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#crossing my fingers that the others print out just as well
danothan · 2 years
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ohhh my god i think i can finally be done with this first batch. my body and brain ache… on to batch 2!
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wrongplacerighttime · 3 months
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fratboy!harry x you
hi hi! its been awhile. finally finished this after 3834273 weeks it feels like. its also my first reader fic so....hope you like it HAHAHA.... :)
the one where your friends introduce you to Harry, you go on a trip and things get interesting. featuring a lake house, hiking, and a cherry sucker.
wc: 5.8k
tw: smut 18+, spanking, choking, light dom!harry dynamic, brief clit slapping, brief face slapping, lil bit of cum play, size kink, breeding kink if you squint. idk if i missed anything but as always let me know if i did :)
cherry sucker
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Finding solace in the chirping birds and chattering on the street that could be heard from your open window, you stood in front of your closet, clad in a little white tank and baby blue undies, preparing your bag for a camping trip you and your friends had planned. Spring semester has concluded and this trip will commemorate the start of summer vacation. You daydream about the sun glistening off the ripples of the lake water, the smell of the grass wafting in the wind as the sun warms the earth while you pack your bag. 
While you were excited for summer, you wanted to get a head start on your reading for fall semester. You had a textbook or two in the bottom of your bag—poli sci books, because you had heard the professor was relentless with his lesson plan and you wanted to go in with no surprises. You hear the faintest footsteps down stairs, growing louder the closer they drew up the stairs. Your door swings open and Faye strides through, red hair flowing behind her at the pace she was walking. She comes up behind you, smacking your ass making you yelp. 
“Faye!” You squeal, clutching the cheek that was now turning red with your best friend's hand print. 
“I’m so envious of your ass, I just had to.” She falls backwards on your bed, arms sprawling beside her. “It’s just so tempting.” She giggles and you turn back to your closet.
“I’m so glad we actually have time to see each other now that classes are over. School’s been so busy I feel like all I’ve done is sleep and go to class.” 
“Is that why you have a fucking textbook in your bag?” Faye raises her eyebrow at your duffle and picks one up. “Russian socioeconomic structure? What even is this?” 
“It’s for Professor Sykes. I’ve heard he's brutal and I want to be prepared.” 
“You are not bringing this. You have a whole summer ahead of you to study.” Faye scoffs, pausing for a moment. “If you bring this book on this trip I’ll throw it in the lake myself.” 
“Then you’ll owe me $200. Besides, what if I get bored?” You cross your arms over your chest and Faye looks at you like you’ve grown another head. 
“There’s a lake! A lake!” She throws her hands up in the air, laughing at your determination. You bend down, opening your drawer and pulling out a skimpy yellow bikini to throw in your bag. “By the way, Josh is bringing a friend. His name’s Harry…Styles I think. Do you know him?” You shake your head. 
“Know of him, don’t know him though.” 
“Oh. Well he’s single…and kind of hot.” Faye giggles and you shake her head again.
“No thanks. I’m not really into the dating scene right now.” 
“No one said anything about dating. Just maybe for a little…fun.” This time, it’s your turn to look at Faye like she’s the one who’s grown another head. “Fine. If you don’t want to…maybe he’ll be our third.” She wiggles her eyebrows and you widen your eyes in horror at her suggestion of asking Harry to join her and her boyfriend in their sexual endeavors. 
Before you can get another thought in, heavy footsteps clamber up the stairs and it’s Josh, Harry in tow with a backpack slung over his shoulder and suddenly your room feels very small. Josh flicks his eyes to you, smiling and sitting next to Faye on your bed. 
“Pauly and Alex are on their way. We’re putting all the shit in their car and you guys are gonna ride with us.” He says, gesturing his finger between the two of you and you nod. The window open brings a warm breeze into the room, blowing your sketchbook pages until it lands on one with a drawing of a man. 
Not just any man…it was your ex. Your eyes flick to everyone and you rush over to shut it before anyone can catch it. It was an old drawing, and a hobby you hadn’t picked back up since things ended and you really didn’t feel like rehashing the breakup with Faye. Faye wasn’t the biggest fan of him, and for good reason after he cheated on you with the TA in one of his classes last semester. 
Harry stands in the doorway, chewing gum between his molars, his jaw flexing and glances around your room—the bedroom of a girl whom he’d never met, and it felt very personal…like he was getting a peak into who you were as a person. An overflowing bookshelf, handmade drawings stuck to a corkboard on the wall over the desk. Faye and Josh were talking in hushed whispers and he tilted his head to the side as he had the perfect view of your ass as you were turned around and facing your desk. He smirks at the red hand mark left there, and he could feel his cock twitching in his pants at the thoughts running through his head. He drops his gaze as you turn back around to walk towards your closet again. His eyes meet yours and you smile, a greeting showing you were just being nice, and he wonders if you always walk around half dressed in front of strangers. He clears his throat.
“Sykes next semester?” He asks, voice with a hint of an accent you weren’t expecting and you nod. 
“How’d you know?” He gestures his elbow towards your bag, the textbook on top of your clothes and your mouth forms and “O” and you nod.
“He teaches that entire fucking book every year. It’s such a snooze fest.” He pauses. “Do you like Russian literature?” You nod again, gesturing to your bookshelf filled with classics and fantasy and romance. You had a few authors on the shelf, but not as many as you would like. He brings his backpack around to his side, unzipping and reaching in. He pulls out a tattered book, crinkles in the cover and the corners turning up, all characteristics of a well loved piece and hands it to you. “Read this instead. A lot more interesting.” He smirks and your gaze drops to the words on the cover. A collection of poems by Anna Akhmatova. In the short conversation you were having you didn’t realize that you had been left alone with him. He smiles, a sly grin spreading on his lips almost like he knew he was about to be a menace. 
“By the way, blue looks good on you.” He flicks his gaze down before meeting your eyes again. You feel your cheeks burning instantly as he walks out the door laughing to himself as he stumbles his way down the stairs, leaving you to finish packing alone.
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The car ride to the cabin had everyone buzzing with anticipation. Faye had called shotgun, and you and Harry shared a look when she did. He smirked and you looked away and quickly climbed into the backseat. The entire ride you were consumed with a nervous energy that you couldn’t quite place. Harry had his hand splayed out on the seat beside you and when he leaned forward to talk to Josh, the tip of his pinky barely brushed your skin and you tried not to think about it too hard for the rest of the ride over.
It took no time for you to clamber out of the car and claim your room inside for the weekend. Tossing your bag onto the floor by the door, you flopped down on the fluffy mattress holding the book Harry lent you to your chest. You were fiddling with the cover when Faye waltzed in and leaned against the foot of the bed. 
“Get up. We’re going on a hike.” She said giddy with excitement and you cocked your eyebrow at her. 
“Think I’ll pass.” 
“Not an option. Everyone else is going.” She crosses her arms and leans on the doorframe. 
“I didn’t bring shoes for a hike.” You half laugh at her with a shake of your head and she narrows her eyes. 
“You can wear a pair of mine. Let’s go.” Faye gestures and you groan, tossing the book back onto the bed with a soft thud against the duvet. You pad down the hallway after her, slumped over feigning protest like a toddler and she hands you a pair of her sneakers once you reach her room. Slipping them on, you plait your hair behind your head quickly and messily as you find your way to the foyer where everyone is gathered and waiting to leave. None of them look thrilled either as they follow Faye out the door to the path behind the house.
The June sun was high in the sky and the only reprieve you were able to get from the heat was the occasional shade of the trees along the path. You and Harry had fallen behind, the rest of the group up ahead and through heavy breaths you would sneak glances from the corner of your eye as the sun glistened off the light sheen of sweat coating his shoulders and his chest. He had popped a cherry sucker in his mouth not long ago and you watched as he moved it from one cheek to the other with his tongue and caught your mind wandering to what his tongue might feel like running along the expanse of your skin. You walk in silence, hands brushing slightly from the uneven terrain and you want to apologize for repeatedly bumping him but you don’t. 
“Does she always make you do shit like this?” He huffs from behind you, stepping over a fallen limb.
“Unfortunately.” You grumble back, trying not to roll your ankle stepping over rocks bigger than the palm of your hand. 
Even though this hike was the last thing Harry wanted to be doing, he couldn’t deny that he enjoyed your company, though little conversation had been exchanged since the moment in your room. His eyes trailed over your body, noticing the bead of sweat rolling down your chest and his tongue darts out over his lips, wanting nothing more than to trail his tongue down the same path. He watched the way your thighs flexed as you stepped over limbs and branches and he thought about them wrapped around his waist, driving into you over and over while your fingers leave marks over his torso. He pulls his shirt over his head, unable to take the heat of the afternoon any longer and he tucks it into the waistband of his shorts. He’s noticed you watching him too, stealing glances out of the corner of your eye and biting your teeth into the pillowy flesh of your bottom lip. He’s convinced that he could do anything and you’d melt into the palm of his hand, so desperate to please him and be good for him. He smirks to himself as you divert your eyes ahead, away from his now bare torso and towards the ground. 
He looks at you briefly before his eyes flick ahead, and you don’t know that he’s judging how long it would take for your friends to notice if he pulled you out of sight for a moment.  He decides it’s worth the risk, lightly grabbing your arm and pulling you behind a nearby tree. You feel the bark against your back as he cages your head between his arms and you look up at him with wide eyes. All you can hear is the pounding of your heart against your ribcage at his close proximity. 
So close you can smell the cherry on his breath, hear the faint sound as the confection clatters against his teeth. Your eyes focus on the white stick poking from between his lips and he watches you. His hands dig into the roughness of the oak and his chest pressed against yours. Suddenly the heat of the afternoon feels suffocating. He brings his own hand to his mouth, plucking the stick from between his teeth and the sticky residue touches your lips. Upon instinct, your tongue darts out to collect, catching the sweetness and savoring it for a moment. 
“Open.” His voice is low and gravelly, and for some reason you find yourself obeying his command before you can even think too hard about it. Your lips part and you stick out your tongue in anticipation, a smirk playing on his lips as he watches you and he hums. “Can y’hold this for me, puppy?” 
A heat swirls in your core, and without noticing your thighs clench together and a whine escapes your throat as you nod. Harry places the sweet candy on your tongue and your lips wrap around the stick slick from his own salivation. “Good girl.” He mutters, stepping away and creating space between the two of you. You snap out of the trance you seemingly had fallen into and scurry away, catching up to your friends and leaving him laughing behind you. 
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Nightfall comes before you have a chance to think about it. You had taken a quick nap after you returned from the hike and it was much needed, considering your mind was going haywire and you just needed a break from your thoughts drifting to Harry. It was quiet out here, you and Harry the only ones left sitting next to the fire Josh and Pauly had started a couple of hours ago. You were huddled up under a blanket, the air blowing off the lake making it feel colder than it actually was. Frogs were humming by the water and the crickets were chirping in the grass, the sounds of nature around you made you feel calm. You had the book Harry had loaned you resting against your thigh as you read the prose on the weathered pages. Harry had his head leaned back, fingers weaved together on his chest with his eyes closed. Occasionally you would peek over at him and he seemed tranquil. You weren’t sure why he was still here with you, but maybe he was just enjoying the fire like you were. You had purposely avoided him after the incident on the hike, the memory still causing an arousal to pool beneath the denim of your shorts and you tried like hell to push it from your mind.
“Let’s swim.” He states, pulling you from your thoughts. You raised your brow at him, a quizzical look. 
“I’ll pass.” You blow out a laugh and he turns his head towards you then. 
“Why? Faye and Josh are off somewhere, probably fucking, and Pauly and Alex are doing bong rips inside. Not really a fan of that…they're incessantly annoying when they’re high. So let’s go swim.” He says nonchalantly, shrugging his shoulders as if it was the most sound choice of activity for this time of night.
“It’s cold, and I’m actually enjoying this book of poems you lent me.” You tell him, and because you’re not looking at him at that second you don’t see the way the corner of his mouth twitches into a half smile. 
“Anna Akhmatova is interesting. But you have all weekend to read it.” He turns to face you then, you catch the movement out of your peripheral.
“I also have all weekend to swim.” You tease him. He’s silent for a moment and you turn the page to read the next poem. He shifts in his seat. 
“Alright. I didn’t want it to have to come to this…” He says, sighing. He stands, making his way over to you. Before you can process what he’s doing, he snatches the book and throws it onto a neighboring chair. In one swift movement, he picks you up, throwing you over his shoulder as he walks towards the dock. You thrash and kick but it’s no use, not when he’s stronger than you’ll ever be. 
“Harry! Put me down!” You exclaim, laughing in the process and you feel his chest against your thighs. He doesn’t respond. “Okay! I surrender. I’ll swim with you. Please just don’t throw me in.” You try to reason with him and he stops, pausing his movements and taking in your words. He plants your feet on the weathered wood, and you look up at him with narrowed eyes as he smiles down at you, a crooked grin that had your knees feeling weak. “That wasn’t funny. I don’t have a swim suit on either.” 
“I guess that gives us a perfect excuse to go skinny dipping then.” He states as if there’s nothing wrong with that scenario. 
“Respectfully, no. I’ll swim in my clothes.” You counter back.
“Sweet girl, it’s nothing you or I haven’t seen before. Be mature.” He teases and you want to laugh, but you cross your arms over your chest, instinctively making yourself smaller. He hooks his fingers in the waistband of his shorts before looking back at you, noticing your hesitation and he stops. “We really don’t have to if you don’t want to.” He puts his hands on your arms, and you shake your head, looking out at the ripples on the surface lit by the moon. 
“No it’s—I’m not—it’s fine. I want to. I just haven’t really taken my clothes off in front of a guy in—since…” You pause, collecting your thoughts before looking up at him. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t know why I’m being this way. I think I’m just nervous.” 
“You don’t have to feel that way around me. Promise.” He smiles and turns back around, pushing his shorts down so you have a view of his bare ass. Your cheeks redden as you avert your gaze elsewhere, and he jumps into the water with a splash. You can’t see him, not until he pokes his head back up and shakes the water from his hair. “It feels great.” He covers his eyes with his hands. “I won’t look if you don’t want me to. Not until you’re in the water.” He says and you nod, and then realizing he can’t see you clear your throat. 
“Okay.” Your voice feels small. Hesitantly you unbutton your shorts, sliding them down along with your underwear and pulling the sweatshirt over your head leaving you bare and exposed, and you hoped and prayed that Alex and Pauly weren’t watching out the window. You drop it to the dock, your clothes and his making separate piles, taking a step towards the edge and looking down into the water. Here goes nothing, you say to yourself and leap in. And he was right, it really did feel great. It envelopes around you as you swim upwards and breach the surface, wiping your eyes and opening them. He’s there in front of you, a smile plastered on his face. 
“See, s’not so bad, right?” He asks and you shake your head again as you tread the water. And you both stay like that for a while, swimming and floating. He floats on his back and you try a little too hard to not let your gaze travel south, focusing on his face and how content he looks with his eyes closed. You’re too busy staring at the tattoos littering his torso when he says something you don’t quite catch.  
“Hm?” Your gaze flits back to his face and he’s smiling. 
“I said,"Do you like what you see?” He laughs and you can feel your cheeks redden because he caught you staring at him. 
“I’m sorry.” You apologize sheepishly and he swims over to you, closing the distance and you bite back a grin at the close proximity. 
“Don’t need to apologize, sweet girl.” He says, his voice low and he brings his hand up to thumb over your lips, parting them before his thumb runs over your cheek. “Be lying if I said I haven’t been staring at you all night.” He confesses and you think if you were nervous before, then you’re not sure what you’re feeling right now. It feels like a stampede of elephants is running through your belly as he runs the backs of his fingers across your cheek. You decide to just rip the bandaid off and go for it. Your hands find his face and you crash your lips to his, and he’s taken off guard but the next second his hands dip under the water and he pulls you into him, the warmth of your bodies melding together underneath the surface. Upon instinct, your legs wrap around his waist as you push your chest into him, causing him to tighten his grip on your waist, dimpling the skin beneath his fingertips. 
It was almost like neither of you needed to speak, once the kiss had broken you both swam fervently towards the dock. He hoists you up by your waist, quickly dressing just to go inside and get undressed again. He pulls you by your hand towards the cabin, and you say a silent prayer that your friends who were in here made their way outside. 
By the grace of some higher power, the house was empty and the air inside was cold and smelled of the aftershocks of bong rips and a half smoked joint. Harry pulled you down the hall, into his room, and shut the door behind him with a click of the lock. 
He smirks and he pushes you down into the bed, hair wet and sticking to the skin of your neck. He crawls over you after pulling your shorts off and throwing them somewhere across the room, slotting a knee between your thighs and instinctively you grind against him, gripping onto his biceps. He hooks a finger in the waistband of your panties and slides them down your thighs in one swift move, and you kick them the rest of the way off in anticipation.
“Been thinking about taking those off since I saw you prancing around your room in them this morning.” His voice drops an octave as he ghosts the tip of his nose along your cheek , tracing the outline of your jaw as you desperately move your hips seeking for any friction it would give you.  He pulls back, looking over your features and you can see his pupils blown from his own pleasure. 
“Look at you.” He coos, clicking his tongue behind his teeth. “Taking before I can even give anything to you, so selfish.” He purrs, and somehow the tone of it makes you stop, halting the movement of your hips. 
“No. Go ahead, angel. Wanna watch you get yourself off just from riding my thigh. Need it so bad, can’t even help yourself.” He coos, but his tone is condescending and you almost question him. He raises a brow, running a thumb over your cheek delicately. The harsh tone of his voice and the softness of his touch playing mind games with you. “Do it. Be a good girl.” He encourages you, and you feel like it’s a trap. 
“N-no. Want whatever you wanna give me. I’m sorry. Won’t happen again.” You pout your lower lip out and he thumbs over it, pulling it down before it bounces back into place. You like that he takes initiative, being dominant over you like it comes so easily for him. He can see the wheels in your mind turning and he cocks his head to the side. 
“What?” 
“Nothing. Just never done this before. Never had someone be…” You trail off, but he nods like he already knew what you were going to say. 
“I see. Sweet girl’s never had someone take control over her?” You shake your head. He rolls his lip between his teeth, eyes flittering around your face. “But you crave it, don’t you? Just wanna be a cock-drunk little slut? Wanna have someone filling you, telling you what to do?” His words penetrate your brain and your eyes flutter closed. “Answer me. Is that what you want?” He demands and you nod, faster than you ever have and he flashes his pretty smile at you. 
“Yes. Please.” Finding your voice, begging him. He shifts, pressing his thigh into your center and a whimper falls from your lips, the heat growing between your thighs. 
“Go.” He leans down, pressing his lips to your pulse point and trailing kisses down your collar bone. Slowly, your hips begin to move and you’re almost embarrassed at your arousal coating his skin, glistening in the soft glow of the lamp. You push the thoughts away, focusing on your pleasure as you feel his hardening length against your thigh, pressing into you. You reach down, palming him through the material before he grabs your wrist and pins it above your head. “Didn’t tell you you could touch.” He mumbles against your skin and you whine in protest. Your hips move faster now, and you’re so close. Just as you’re about to tip over the edge, he pulls away and your lungs deflate, a breath being taken away from you. He stands over you, pushing his shorts down and your eyes widen at the sight of him. You want to reach out and grab him, pump his cock with your hand but you refrain. He leans over you again, planting kisses down your chest and dipping in the valley between your tits, his nose ghosting over your skin. 
“Want you to tell me red if you wanna stop, okay? Green if you wanna keep going. Got it?” He asks and you nod. He peeks up at you through his lashes and cocks his brow. “Words, puppy. Can’t hear a nod or a shake.”
“Yes. I’m—yes. Got it” You’re breathless with your answer. He peppers small kisses over your navel, gripping your hips between his fingers as his head dips lower, kissing the insides of both thighs, trailing his tongue over your skin and purposely skipping over your weeping hole just to make you squirm under his grip. He parts you open then, collecting your arousal on his tongue and the wicked sensation makes your back arch from the bed, pushing your core closer to him and he forces you back down. 
“Uh-uh. Stay still or I’ll stop.” He mumbles, and a whine bubbles in your throat. He laps lazily st your core, circling and flattening his tongue over your clit as you try your hardest to keep your hips still. His fingers dimple your skin, digging into the muscle underneath. He knew he was gripping hard enough to leave small bruises in the shape of his fingertips, and he wanted to. Wanted you to remember his head between your thighs as you shattered just from the flick of his tongue against your sensitive bud. You’re a mess of moans and panting his name over and over. He pulls your clit between his teeth and your hips jolt upwards and he pushes you back down to the mattress. He pulls away, and your chest heaves at the loss of contact but a cry escapes your throat when he lands a light smack to your center, and the pain morphes into pleasure as tears well up in your eyes at the sting.
“Told you to stay still. Can’t follow simple directions, angel?” 
“M’s—sorry.” You gasp and he glances up at you, noticing your wet lashes and he props himself up on his elbows. 
“What's your color, sweet girl?” His tone is gentle, planting a soft kiss to the top of your thigh and peeking up at you from under his lashes.
“Green.” You answer eagerly and he smiles against your skin, crawling back up to level with your eyes. His lips find yours and you open, allowing him to push his tongue into your mouth against your own, the room around you melting away. It’s slow, sensual and full of desire. He doesn’t pull away as he lines himself up with you, the tip of his cock teasing your aching hole and you move your hips trying like hell to get him further inside. 
“So needy.” He mumbles against your lips and pulls your bottom one between his teeth, nipping gently. He pushes into you slowly, your mouth dropping open as he lays his forehead against your collarbone. “So tight, sweet girl. I don’t think m’gonna fit.” He pushes into you further, teeth marking your skin as he groans against your skin and you whine at the sting of him stretching you. 
“Fuck, Harry.” You whimper, he cages your head between his hands, holding himself up as his biceps flex and extend, the sinewy tissue underneath his skin prominent. He looks down between your bodies, where he's halfway sheathed inside your pussy and he chuckles, a breathy laugh that morphs into a sigh. 
“Pretty little pussy looks so pitiful like this. Can’t do it, puppy.” He pants, and you know somewhere in the back of your mind that he’s just playing a part, but it doesn’t stop the cry that escape from your throat as you beg him to fuck you. 
“Please, Harry. Need you. Want you so much. Can take it, promise. Please.” You look up at him with wide eyes and he admires you for a moment, taking in the pout playing on your pretty mouth that he just wants to kiss away, the tears welling in your eyes that he’ll wipe away if they fall. The need in your voice letting him know you’d do anything he asks of you in this moment. 
“Alright, I’ll give it to you. Gonna go slow til you’re all stretched out f’me.” He palms your thighs, hiking them around his waist and continues to fill you, your head lulling to the side as your eyes flutter closed and your jaw falls slack when he reaches to the hilt, balls resting against your ass as his head falls back. “So fucking good, angel. Look at me, wanna see those pretty eyes.” 
So you listen, do the best you can to force your eyes open as he starts to rock his hips into you, pulling out to the tip before filling you up again and again. He hikes your leg over his shoulder, kissing down your calf as he sets his rhythm, going deeper from this angle. His eyes never leave yours as he groans and nibbles on your skin, peppering small bites and then soothing with his tongue. He hits the right spot every time, and when your eyes finally betray you and fall closed, you feel a smack land on your cheek. Not hard, but just enough to sting and you whimper. 
“Thought you were a good girl.” He says through gritted teeth and he drives into you harder. 
“I-I am. Want to be good for you.” He grunts at your response, he pulls out and flips you over before pulling your ass up in the air so you sit on your knees with your face down in the mattress. He palms your ass, landing a smack to your cheek. He rubs over the spot gently, soothing as you push closer into his touch and he's climbing behind you, lining up and pushing back in and it feels even better from this angle. Hitting every spot just right and you swear you see stars. He reaches around you, pushing on your tummy just under your navel and wraps his other hand around your throat lightly, pulling you up. 
Your back is flush with his chest, skin sticking together from the light sheen of sweat coating both your bodies. One hand squeezing the sides of your neck and the other pressing still on your belly and he nips at your ear.
“Can feel me all the way in your tummy, can’t you? This is what you like right? Nobody’s ever had you like this have they?” He whispers and you shake your head. His hand finds yours and he brings it back to the spot just below your belly button. “Feel that? Feel me so deep in this pretty pussy. Gonna get you all full of me, fill you with my babies.” He grits and squeezes your neck a little harder, the corners of your vision darkening before he lets go and you take in a full breath, feeling high on him…and he’s all you know. His words, his hands roaming your body and his cock stretching you. 
“Harry, I’m so close.” You breathe out and he grunts, lips ghosting over your shoulder blade. 
“I know…can feel you squeezing my cock so tight angel. C’mon. Cum for me.” He encourages you and you shatter around him, pussy pulsing around him bringing him to his own release as he paints inside you. He wastes no time pulling out and you topple over from your legs feeling weak and he dips down behind you. You feel him dripping out of your hole, and his fingers spread you open. Pushing one inside with no warning, he fucks his cum back inside of you with his fingers and you hum, unable to make any other noise and he chuckles behind you.
“Like being filled like this? Look so pretty full of me, dripping out of you. Never gonna forget it.” He mutters, planting a kiss on the small of your back before standing. Finding the energy to roll over, he offers his fingers to you and you take them between your lips and taste the mix of both of you on his fingers. He curses under his breath at the sight of you, feeling his cock twitching back to life and he pulls them away to stop himself thinking about fucking you again and again.
You slept in his bed that night.
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The weekend ended all too quickly, and you were half asleep in the back seat of Josh’s car with your head resting on the window, holding Harry’s book on your thighs and fiddling wither cover, something you had become accustomed to as you read the prose on the pages or when you closed in while engaging in conversation. Truthfully, you didn’t know if you’d see him in that capacity again after this weekend and didn’t know if you wanted to go back to being strangers that passed each other in the economics building on campus. 
Josh pulled up to the house you and Faye shared, and Harry follows you out of the car. He retrieves your bag from Pauly’s car for you, carrying it up to your room and putting it down on your bed. You almost felt like you were having deja vu, the scene similar to one from Thursday afternoon, except this time you weren’t half naked in front of him and he wasn’t just a stranger in your room anymore. You look around, then to the floor before meeting his eyes and he smirks as he leans against your doorframe. 
“Here.” You hand him the book but he puts his hands up, shaking his head.
“Keep it.” He says, and you almost refuse but accept it anyway. He bites the inside of his cheek, shifting his weight and shoving his hands in his pockets. He steps closer, brushing your hair behind your ear as you look up at him. “Don’t be a stranger, angel.” 
“I won’t be.”
He leaves you there, standing in the middle of the room with his book clutched to your chest with a cheesy grin plastered on your face.
And you knew it wouldn't be the last time you saw Harry Styles.
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dinozarr · 8 months
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“YOU SOUND SO GORGEOUS, DARLING.”⠀⠀⠀⟡⠀NANAMI
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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀“Shhh~ sweetheart, you’ll wake the neighbors,” kento’s strained voice purred into your mouth, your equally hot breaths fanning against one another’s face after every rut he thrusted into you.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀one of your arms was stretched back completely, knuckles painted white as your fingers curled into the fabric of the couch you were seated on. the other was wrapped around kento’s head, fingertips entwining within his distressed curls. one of kento’s large arms was slithered around your waist, his grip all too firm as the other hand simply rested against your ass cheek that had nothing more than a tomato-red hand print practically engraved onto it.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀the tip of his pulsating erection hit your cervix so beautifully, cries of ecstasy hiccuping from your mouth each time he pounded his hips into your own. nothing could’ve prepared you for the absolute beat down your dripping cunt would receive when you accepted kento’s offer of having a few drinks at his place. it all happened so fast. within a few sips and you two were at it like rabid animals.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀“you sound so gorgeous, darling~” he continued to compliment you, giving into your gut-wrenching praise kink that had your stomach churning every time he spoke dearly to you.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀the way he alluded you was completely unlike how he was abusing every last inch of your sopping pussy. the girth of his over-average dick stretched you out wonderfully, your eyes rolling back all the while you rested your forehead against his own. with each hip snap nanami gave you, his grasp around your waist tightened—almost as if he were to let go he’d lose you.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀the veins that protruded his leaking erection raked your clenching walls with ease, whimpers of mercy exerting your sweet swollen lips. kento couldn’t help himself. the way you acted so pristine and elegant in front of everyone, yet was the complete opposite when behind closed doors had driven the man mad. he wanted nothing more than to rip your prissy little blazer suits to shreds in front of everyone and show them how much you enjoyed taking every last inch of his dick.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀he wanted his shape to be engraved into you. for every time he slid through your folds, your body would instantly recognize him and suck him in completely. well, more than it already does. he craved for littering your silky skin in bite marks so that every person you ever crossed paths with would know who was fucking your pathetic cunt, and how good he was treating it too.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀no matter how many times he denied it, he found himself smiling at just the scent of your infamous perfume. how it suffocated his entire existence and even left trails on all pieces of clothing he’s ever worn to work. whenever he saw you, it was like restraining a tiger fighting himself so he wouldn’t attack you with his lips and strip you to nothing but your bare, beautiful body.
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NOTEZ : erm !!! all of these professor nanami drabbles will be in the same universe with the same reader, so do with that info what u please.
© TAKST4Z 2023 — all rights reserved. mature discretion. please do not plagiarize or steal any of my works or grapnics.
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heartateasee · 2 months
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“Intraoffice”
ceo!harry x you
Word Count: 13k
Warnings: a handjob, some comeplay, fingering (f receiving), brief spitting and protected sex.
Plot: Your previous CEO was retiring, and Harry is taking his place. Neither of you were expecting each other to be so young, and after while, you begin to develop a flirty friendship within the workplace. One business trip causes all those feelings to come to fruition.
(I stumbled across this TikTok account the other night, and it caused me to spiral. So, this is the result of that 🤭 Big thank you to my bestie @finelinenina for giving me some ideas for this one as well 🫶🏻)
ꕤ • ꕤ • ꕤ • ꕤ
To say that you were going into work nervous today would be an understatement. Today was the day you were going to meet the new CEO of the company, and you were praying to whatever was above that he was kinder than the current CEO - your boss. It wasn’t that he was necessarily a mean man, Mr. Crawford, but he was older, and he liked for his assistant to not be seen or heard. He expected for you to get the job down silently, and while being invisible. It took you a little bit of time, but for the most part, you had your day down to where you and Mr. Crawford never crossed paths - something he very much appreciated.
His coffee was on his desk, as well as a print out of his meetings for the day before he even stepped foot into the office, and by the time he did, you were already behind your own desk working on other tasks. When lunchtime came, you had his lunch hot and ready, once again on his desk, before his late morning meeting finished. And then when it was time for his afternoon coffee, you snuck it into his office during his after lunch meeting.
The other assistants commented on how odd it was that Mr. Crawford made you arrange everything while he was out of his office, and you felt the same way, but it was just routine now. Hell, you had been doing it for the past four years since you were offered the position right after you had completed your internship. It was just normal now.
So this morning, you placed two cups of coffee on Mr. Crawford’s desk as you knew the replacement CEO would be with him, and you printed off two copies of the day's meetings since he would also be shadowing him all day. You didn’t really mind if the new CEO wanted you to be invisible as well, but you hoped that maybe you would start having a little bit of appreciation thrown your way instead of just being met with silence.
Just as you had turned on your heel, going to exit the office, you heard Mr. Crawford’s voice which caused your eyes to widen. He was earlier than usual today, and that caused your heart to race a bit. The last thing you needed was for him to scold you in front of your new boss.
“And just in here is where your office will be,” Mr. Crawford stepped into the doorway, and you stood there like a deer in headlights - fiddling with your fingers behind your back. “Oh, Y/N, I was hoping we’d catch you.”
You had to force off an expression of confusion at his words as you knew he was probably trying to make himself come off as a better boss. “Good morning, Mr. Crawford. I’ve just placed your coffees on the desk, as well as your schedules for the day.”
“Thank you,” he nodded at you before moving out of the way, and it was as if time stood still once the man behind him was revealed. “This is Mr. Harry Styles. He’s going to be your new boss as of Monday.”
He was young - way younger than you anticipated. With cropped curls and moss colored eyes, you truly found yourself in a bit of a trance looking at him. He had plush, pillowy looking lips with a nose that looked like it had been sculpted by the gods. Fuck, it was honestly as if every part of him had been sculpted by the gods.
“Mr. Styles, so nice to meet you,” you extended your hand to him. “I’m Y/N. I’m looking forward to working so closely together.”
Harry smiled at you, and once he took your hand, you immediately felt a warmth spreading all over your body. “Wonderful to meet you, Miss Y/N. Thank you for the coffee.”
You felt your face flush at his politeness before your hold dropped. “Of course, that’s what I’m here for,” you flicked your eyes between the two men before giving them a nod. “Well, Mr. Crawford, you know where to find me if you need me.”
As you went to leave the office, you could feel Harry’s eyes following you, and you peeked over your shoulder - confirming that he was indeed still staring. You subconsciously bit down on your bottom lip as you quickly looked away to avoid drawing attention from Mr. Crawford. Once you were back at your desk, you let out a deep breath as you stared at your computer screen.
Harry wasn’t at all what you were expecting, and little did you know that you weren’t what he was expecting either. 
ꕤ • ꕤ • ꕤ • ꕤ
It had been a couple of weeks now that Harry had been your boss, and he honestly hadn’t seen or heard you much. Occasionally you would have to call into his office to let him know that he had a call, or he’d approach your desk if he needed to have a meeting rearranged, but other than that, the situation was very much like the one when you worked for Mr. Crawford.
This morning, however, Harry made it a point to get to the office almost ten minutes earlier than usual. He wanted to try to catch you, to see exactly why you had been avoiding him. He wasn’t really aware of the fact that this is how you did things previously considering Mr. Crawford seemed more than elated to have caught you during your initial introduction. He thought that maybe you didn’t like him, and if that was the case, he needed to make things right.
He greeted a few people as he walked through the lobby, heading towards his office where he hoped you’d either be, or he’d be able to already be there before you came in. As he got closer to his door, he could hear slight shuffling, and he quietly poked his head in to see you organizing his meeting schedule, while placing another stack of papers down beside it. He figured those were the contracts that had been finalized for him to sign. His coffee was still in your hand as you did this, your bottom lip tucked between your teeth in concentration.
“Good morn-”
Harry couldn’t finish his greeting as a scream left your lips, and you jumped, spilling his coffee all over the front of your dress. You gasped as the hot liquid seeped through the fabric, and the paper cup was quickly dropped to the ground as you tried to pull your dress away from your chest. Thankfully you were wearing one with a high neckline so you wouldn’t be exposing yourself, but the material was a cream color, something you normally knew better than to wear given how clumsy you were.
“Oh my god!” Harry exclaimed as he walked forward, and without even thinking, he wrapped his hands around your wrists, assisting you with pulling the fabric away from your skin. “Y/N, I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“It’s okay,” you sucked in a deep breath as the burning sensation began to fade away, and you swallowed harshly. “It’s fine. I’m a klutz anyway. I’ll make sure to get you another coffee as soon as possible. Thank god it didn’t get on your documents.”
Harry’s eyebrows narrowed as you spoke, and he shook his head. “I could care less about the documents. I’m not worried about them or another coffee. How’s your chest? Did it burn your skin?”
Your eyes darted down to where only you could see the exposed skin from you dress still being pulled, and you shook your head. “It doesn’t look like it,” you dropped your hands, causing Harry’s to leave your wrists, and the damp dress clung to your abdomen once again. 
“Please, take the morning to go home and change and to regather. I can’t tell you how sorry-”
“Oh, I won’t need to go home. I keep a spare change of clothes in my desk. Like I said,” you spoke as you lifted your hand above your head before pointing down at yourself. “Klutz.”
Harry couldn’t help but chuckle softly at your gesture, and he pursed his lips to the side. “Alright then, how about this? You go ahead and change, and then we’ll go out for some breakfast so I can make this up to you.”
“Breakfast? But you have a meeting at-”
“Reschedule it,” Harry said as he tucked his hands into his pockets. “We’re going to the diner down the street. You’re my new meeting.”
Your stomach formed a knot when you heard his words, and you finally found it within yourself to clamp your jaw shut. “Yes, Mr. Styles. I’ll just be a few minutes. I won’t keep you waiting long.”
“Y/N,” Harry stepped forward, and you looked up at him with round eyes. “You take all the time you need, okay? I’ll wait however long if it means you’ll feel comfortable again.”
Words escaped you at that point. This was your boss, and you had never had a man show this much concern over you before, not within the first couple weeks of knowing each other at least.
“Mhmm,” you hummed out a squeak before quickly leaving his office. 
You made your way over to your desk to retrieve the extra black trousers, and the maroon colored jumper stashed away in your bottom drawer before making your way into the employee bathroom.
Pulling your stained dress up, you grimaced as it stuck to you slightly since it had just barely begun to dry. You grabbed some paper towels and ran them under the water for a few seconds before beginning to wipe over your chest, and some of your abdomen until you were rid of all the sticky substance.
You pulled on your clothes quickly, not wanting to make Harry wait too much longer, and you exited the bathroom.
Once Harry saw you back at your desk, he left his office as you made the phone call to reschedule his morning meeting to tomorrow instead since you knew he had an opening. You watched as he grabbed your dress from where you had it laying over the back of your chair- eyebrows narrowing as you saw him drape it over the crease of his arm.
You hung up the phone and placed the strap of your purse over your shoulder. “What are you doing with my dress?”
Harry smirked softly before tilting his head towards the elevators. “Ready to go?”
You nodded in response, and then the two of you were down and out of the building - heading down the street.
“Which diner did you want to go to? I can call ahead and make sure a table is ready,” you stated, fumbling to get your cell out of your purse.
“That’s not necessary, Y/N. If we have to wait, we’ll wait,” Harry shrugged as he started to guide you down a side street, and you began to look around.
“Mr. Styles, I’m not trying to overstep here, but I don’t think there’s a diner down this street.”
“I’m not heading for the diner right now,” he shook his head, and you only walked a few more paces before he was opening up a door to a shop.
He lifted his eyebrows in encouragement for you to step in first as he held the door open, and you did so. Harry followed close behind, and you watched as he approached the counter.
“I’ll need this garment dry cleaned, please,” you heard him state before he was handing your dress over to the elderly woman helping him. “Do you think it could be finished by tomorrow?”
“Oh, Harry, I’ll have it done for you by this evening,” the woman cooed, reaching across the counter to pinch one of his cheeks.
You watched him smile, his deep dimples denting into his skin as he left out a soft laugh. “You’re too good to me, Muriel. We’ll be back whenever you give me a call.”
At this point, you were floored. Not only was he so apologetic about the spill that he practically begged you to join him for breakfast, now he was getting your dress dry cleaned?
Once you stepped back out onto the street, you started back in the direction you came from.
“You really didn’t need to do that,” you told him as you pursed your lips to the side. “I could’ve just taken care of it at home.”
“Nonsense,” Harry said, glancing over at you for a moment as you crossed the street. “If I hadn’t startled you, the coffee wouldn’t have been spilled, therefore, I wanted to make it right.”
“I really need you to stop blaming yourself for that,” you laughed softly as you continued down the sidewalk - not realizing where you were stepping was a bit unlevel.  
It caused your ankle to slightly roll, and you let out a yelp as you tripped. You braced yourself for impact with your lids shut tight, but instead you were met with a solid chest and an arm around your waist. You blinked your eyes open to see Harry looking down at you - his eyebrows up on his forehead.
“You weren’t joking when you said you were a klutz, were you?”
You felt your cheeks flush before shaking your head. “No, I wasn’t.”
You both shared a chuckle as you separated, and you were grateful to see that you were approaching a diner not too long after your stumble. The last thing you needed was to trip over another uneven sidewalk, or even worse, your own feet. 
Just like before at the dry cleaners, Harry held the door open for you, and you immediately walked over to the host stand - a habit of yours to just do this on your own. Any time Mr. Crawford held a dinner at a restaurant, it had always been your responsibility to make sure they knew you were checking in for their reservation.
“Hello, we’d like a table for two please,” you greeted her with a smile, and watched as she gathered a couple menus before nodding her head for you to follow.
Looking over your shoulder, you saw Harry watching you intently, and you tried to swallow down the nerves starting to bubble in your chest. You had never seen someone look at you the way he did before. You weren’t sure if it was a good or a bad thing, to be honest, but all you knew was that it made you nervous. 
The host set your menus down on the table of a booth, and you and Harry both slipped into the opposite benches. You tried your best to focus on narrowing down what you wanted, but this was an unusual circumstance. Never once were you asked by your boss to go to breakfast just the two of you, and as appreciative as you were that Harry had asked you, it was unfamiliar territory.
“Do you see something that you think you’d want?” Harry spoke up after a few minutes, and you flashed your eyes up to him over the top of your menu to see that his were already on you. “If not, we can go somewhere else.”
His need to make sure you were constantly comfortable was so foreign that you could hardly wrap your head around it. You realized it had been a few moments since he had asked his question, and you had remained silent. “Oh no,” you shook your head before clearing your throat. “This is perfect. I see a couple things that are peaking my interest actually.”
Harry smiled at you, and you felt a fluttering in your lower stomach. “Get whatever you’d like.”
It was only a few minutes later that a server came over to the table, and Harry ordered a carafe of coffee for the two of you, as well as two waters before extending his hand over to you - asking you silently to order your food first.
“I’ll take the breakfast sampler, please,” you stated, looking over everything that came on it so you didn’t miss any of the options. “I’ll take one sausage and one bacon with that, sunny side up eggs with white buttered toast and hashbrown casserole, please.”
Handing your menu off to the server, you turned your attention back to Harry. His eyes were darting over the laminated paper in his hand before he looked to the server. “You know what? I’ll do the same please, but instead of the sausage and bacon, could I have a bowl of fruit with that?”
The server nodded, taking Harry’s menu as well before walking away from the table.
“For a second I thought you were going to break your vegetarian status,” you said playfully as you leaned forward onto the table - intertwining your fingers together.
Harry mimicked your actions, and you caught sight of the cross tattoo on his hand. You knew he had another right along his wrist as you could see glimpses of the ink sometimes, but you always wanted to ask him if he had any others. 
“As much as I do miss bacon, I’ve been going strong for too many years to break it now,” he smirked, and you were slowly feeling more comfortable with the one on one time together.
You weren’t a nervous individual by nature, to be honest, however, you did tend to be particularly quiet. You’re sure a lot of that had to do with the fact that’s what was asked of you for the past four years. Once conversation struck, and you were interested, you could hold a proper interaction.
“Didn’t mean to tempt you,” you giggled before biting down on your bottom lip.
Harry noticed that was something you must do subconsciously, but he found it alluring. 
The server came back with your two waters, two mugs and the carafe of coffee - setting it all down on the table alongside sugar packets and cream. You and Harry both went to reach for the carafe, fingers brushing against each other, and you pulled your hand back quickly.
“Sorry,” you muttered, dropping your hands into your lap, but Harry held that coy half smile as he poured you each a cup of coffee.
“How do you take yours?” Harry asked, as he set the carafe towards the end of the table against the wall to have it out of the way.
“Two sugars and just a splash of cream, please.”
Your eyes were fixed on his every move as you watched him pour the contents into the mug before he pushed it over your way. He pulled his own mugs towards him - not putting anything in it, as always. 
“Thank you,” both of your hands cupped the warm mug, and you fought off a hum at just how wonderful the heat felt against your palms.
The hustle and bustle of the diner blanketed over the two of you, and for a minute your attention was caught by just how quickly all the servers were moving around to make sure everything was getting taken care of in a timely manner.
“Y/N,” Harry saying your name caught your attention, and you looked back over to him. “Can I ask you a question?”
Your eyebrows furrowed before you gave him a nod. “Yeah, of course.”
“Have I done something to make you not like me?” Harry asked, tilting his head to the side.
Your eyes widened at his question, and you quickly shook your head. “No, not at all! Why would you think that?”
“Well, I never see you.”
You were caught so off guard. Him not seeing you made him think you didn’t like him? You thought you were doing him a favor by not being an interruption. 
“Well, I just thought that maybe Mr. Crawford had talked to you before he left, and maybe you wanted me to keep doing things the way he liked,” you explained.
“Which was?”
It was then you realized that Mr. Crawford didn’t tell Harry at all about how he really didn’t want you being present around him. It was a bit shocking to you that he wouldn’t have mentioned that, considering a lot of businessmen had that preference, and it seemed to be a little hard to find assistants who would obey that rule so well. 
“He didn’t really like seeing me,” you shrugged. “Or hearing me either. That’s why I always have your coffee, schedule and any documents you may need to take care of on your desk and ready to go before you’re there. It’s also why your lunch is delivered while you’re in your late morning meeting.”
An expression you really couldn’t make out rested on Harry’s face, and since he didn’t speak, you continued.
“If I had to run things to his house after work, I’d use my key to let myself in, drop off whatever he needed, and regardless of whether or not he or his wife were home, I would be in and out. It took a little while to get used to, but once I did, it was easy.”
You watched as Harry lifted a hand to run it through the front of his curls, and you forced yourself to look away from the flex of his bicep as he did so. “God, Y/N, I’m so sorry. I had no idea that’s how you had to do things when he was around. I can promise you that’s not how you have to be with me.”
Slipping your eyes shut, you couldn’t help but let out a small sigh of relief. “Oh, thank god,” you giggled before looking at him again. “It was easier with him because I had his routine down. I was guessing every day with you.”
Harry’s heart skipped a beat at the sound of your giggle. It was hard for him to believe someone couldn’t want you to work around them and do your job properly. From the little bits of you he had been able to see, you seemed like the perfect employee. 
“So with that being said,” Harry started. “I’d like my morning cup of coffee after I’ve arrived at the office.”
You opened your mouth to speak, but Harry held up a finger to stop you. “And I’d like to prepare it myself in the kitchen with you, as you prepare your own. Then from there, we can go back to my office, and you can walk me through the meeting schedule for the day. You don’t have to worry about ordering me lunch anymore, I can take care of that myself.”
“What about your afternoon cup of coffee?” You blurted out, making Harry smile even wider than he already was.
“Can I be honest with you?” He waited for you to nod before proceeding. “I was only drinking about a quarter of it before dumping it out. Coffee that late in the day would keep me wired all night.”
“Mr. Styles,” you gasped, jaw dropping. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“It seemed a bit impolite, you know? I felt bad that you had gone through the trouble of making it for me, and I didn’t want to just waste it. It also felt wrong to tell you to stop when I thought it was something you enjoyed doing for me.”
You wanted to respond again, but the server was back - placing the appropriate sampler in front of the two of you. You both thanked them as they walked off, and you shook your head as you reviewed the newfound information from him in your head.
“Mr. Styles, I-”
“Y/N.”
“Yes?” You looked at him as he sent you one of the most gentle looks you’ve ever seen.
“You can call me Harry.”
ꕤ • ꕤ • ꕤ • ꕤ
In the few months that followed your breakfast “meeting” with Harry, the two of you developed a really great work relationship. The truth was, the two of you knew that this was a full on friendship as well at this point, but keeping things professional was necessary. If you texted after hours, it was about work only, and if you saw each other outside of the office, it was at work oriented events.
Regardless of that, you each had gotten in the habit of doing little things here and there for each other. You never made a big deal about it, neither of you would tell the other it was you who did it, but you both just knew. 
The first time Harry did something unexpected for you was about a month after your new work agreement. That morning you had noticed that the pink peonies you had in your vase on your desk were on their last leg, and you frowned as you tossed them into the trash. 
“Maybe this time I can get yellow ones,” you had told Stella, the assistant who worked at the desk right next to yours. “I wanted them the first time around, but they were all out.”
That afternoon when you came back from having lunch with Stella, you saw that your vase was full of yellow peonies. Your mouth gaped as you raced over to them, running the tips of your fingers over the soft petals. It was then you caught sight of Harry leaning against the doorway of his office out of the corner of your eye, and you looked over to him. He tucked his hands into his pockets as he gave you a smile, and you stared into his eyes as you gave him a knowing one back.
A couple of weeks ago you walked into the office on a Monday after having a relaxing weekend of self-care, and as you met Harry in the kitchen for your usual cups of coffee, you watched his eyes light up as he took you in. “You got your hair done,” he said, grinning from ear to ear.
“You noticed?” You couldn’t help but laugh when you asked. You were so surprised.
“Yeah,” he nodded, the tip of his tongue running over his bottom lip. “It looks really good, Y/N.”
You had blushed furiously that day that you were surprised you didn’t combust into flames.
The vibe between the two of you had floated over into flirting territory probably more times than it should, but you both were responsible enough not to take it any further. Sometimes the flirting involved little remarks, or long glances, and even sometimes Harry would take your breath away with a small squeeze to your hip as he moved behind you to reach for something.
You both felt incredibly comfortable around each other, but regardless of that, you had turned Harry’s invitation down for dinner at his house a couple of times. He would only ever offer when you would come by his house after work to drop something off for him, or when you needed to pick something up to be delivered over the weekend. As much as you wanted to tell him yes, you knew it wasn’t a good idea. The last thing either of you needed was someone finding out that you were spending personal time outside of work. 
Of course he was the CEO, the one calling most of the shots, but he still had his own people to answer to. You didn’t want to get the two of you in trouble, and Harry didn’t either - that’s why he understood every time you would decline. No matter how many times you had rejected the offer, Harry couldn’t find it in himself to stop asking, and part of him hoped that one day would give in.
Harry had noticed so many little things about you during the time you had spent together. The way you ate crunchy cheetos with chopsticks so you didn’t get your fingers dirty while working was adorable to him, and he picked up on the way you would slightly scrunch up your nose when you were working on a spreadsheet that was proving to be troublesome. 
He noticed the way you came into work each week with a different color of polish coating your impeccably manicured nails. When you told him that you did them yourself one day when he complimented the small polka dot designs you had adorning each of your ring fingers, he was floored. He had become completely infatuated with your presence - if he was going to be completely honest. 
That’s why as he stood at the bar with a pint in his hand and his eyes set on you speaking with a man he didn’t recognize, he felt an uneasiness in his stomach. The office had gone out for drinks at the usual spot on a Friday afternoon to celebrate an easy and successful week, and most of the time you were attached to Harry’s hip, however, there seemed to be a law firm that was also occupying said bar.
You had been speaking to this same man for about fifteen minutes now, and Harry watched as he moved slightly closer to you over time. You weren’t a very big drinker, Harry knew that. You’d always have one cocktail while out with everyone, and you’d sip on it the entire time - finishing it up just a few minutes before you’d announce you were leaving.
So, when Harry saw the man gesturing to your drink, clearly asking if you’d like another, his hand tensed around his cold glass before he brought it up to take a large swig of his beer.
He saw that you politely declined, and luckily the man honored it and didn't push. If he had, there’d be a serious problem.
For the remaining hour that you both were at the bar, Harry had managed to get himself properly wasted. It made him sick to watch you openly flirt with some else when all he wanted to do was to be able to do that with you. 
It wasn’t until you walked over to the bar to stand next to Stella for a moment to pay your tab that the man walked back over to his friends. Harry watched him closely, and his stomach churned as he watched the way the man tapped each of his colleagues and pointed at you. The men surrounding him, both younger and older, eyed you up and down like a piece of meat. 
Harry quickly asked to pay his tab, scribbling a hefty tip and his signature on the receipt just in time as he saw you walking back over to the asshole who had every ounce of your attention. After what Harry had just seen him do, there was no way he was going to let you leave with him.
Just as the man was beginning to ask for just your number, Harry practically stumbled up next to you, and your eyes widened as you quickly wrapped an arm around his torso - having him fully lean into your side.
“Harry, you alright?” You asked with narrowed brows.
As you studied him, you could see that he was more drunk than you had ever seen him. Hell, you had really only seen him tipsy before. This was extremely out of the ordinary for him.
“Yeah, ‘m alright,” he slurred just slightly, but he still managed to stay poised. “Jus’ wanted to come and check on you.”
Your eyes flitted over to the man, and you sent him a weak smile. “This your boyfriend?” The man asked, and you heard Harry try to stifle a laugh in the back of his throat before you saw a look take over his eyes - as if a light switch had gone off.
“Actually, I am,” Harry nodded, and your lips parted at that response. “I am Y/N’s boyfriend, and if you’ll excuse us, I think it’s time we went home.”
The man scoffed, and Harry watched as his eyes now looked over you with disgust. “Pretty cheap of you to flirt with me for the past hour when your boyfriend’s in the same building, but I guess I kind of understand if he gets this wasted and ignores you all night.”
“Hey, that’s enough!” You snapped, speaking up before Harry had a chance to - even though his mouth was open to do so. His body was clearly working on a delayed system. “You don’t get to speak about him like you know him. You don’t know him at all.”
Shaking your head, you tightened your arm around Harry’s waist as he threw one of his around your shoulders, and as you began to walk away, Harry turned his head to look at the man with a smirk.
“Oh, and one more thing!” You spoke up as you turned around, talking a bit louder so the man could hear you over the music, causing the attention from some of the other patrons to be on you. “Your cologne fucking reeks - smells like a cat pissed all over your suit.”
Harry’s eyes widened, and he let out the loudest cackle you had heard within your time together as you pushed open the front door to the bar. As you headed down the street, you could barely walk in a straight line due to having your tall British boss clinging to your side.
“I’m gonna drive you home, okay?” You told him as you approached your car that was parallel parked on the street. Using your free hand, you fished your keys from your purse and unlocked the car before helping Harry into the passenger seat.
Once he was good and buckled, you shut the door and rounded over to your side. You slipped inside and turned on the car as you felt Harry’s eyes lingering on the side of your face. 
“Let me know if you’re going to get sick or something, alright? I’ve never seen you drink this much before,” you commented as you pulled out of your spot and started down the roads towards his house.
Harry didn’t live too far from here, probably around five minutes maximum, so you really didn’t mind taking him home.
“Yeah, but ‘m not gonna get sick. I have an iron stomach,” Harry stated as he patted his palm against his covered abdomen. “Haven’t puked from drinking in years.”
The car ride was silent except for the light music playing on the radio, and at first you thought Harry had fallen asleep, but when you glanced over, he was just staring at his hands in his lap. 
Once you pulled into his driveway, you got out and went over to his side to assist him - supporting him in almost every way as you stepped up onto his porch. You got his keys out of his suit jacket to unlock the door before the two of you were heading inside.
“Didn’t like that guy talking to you,” Harry mumbled as you tossed his keys into the bowl on the table near the door.
“Oh, really? I couldn’t tell,” you laughed sarcastically. You weren’t irritated by any means, but it was all just a little confusing to you why he was acting that way. “Called yourself my boyfriend.”
Harry hummed as he nodded, as you started up his stairs to where you knew his bedroom was. “I could be, you know?”
“What?” You looked over at him quickly, stopping the progress you were making on the stairs.
You soon realized that was a big mistake as Harry started to sway, and your eyes widened as you started leaning backwards. “Okay, hey!” You exclaimed, pulling him forward again before continuing to walk. “About sent us down the damn stairs, Harry.”
“I said, I could be your boyfriend,” Harry repeated himself, completely ignoring the almost tumble once you got him into his bedroom.
“Alright, big guy,” you couldn’t help but let out an actual giggle now as you patted him on the chest. “I’m going to lay you out some pajamas, and you’re going to change while I go downstairs and get you some medicine and some water. Then I’m gonna get you tucked in and leave.”
“I mean it,” Harry’s eyebrows narrowed, clearly offended even in his drunken state that you weren’t taking him seriously. “I like you, Y/N. You’re so beautiful, and you’re bright - you light up a whole room when you walk into it.”
Never once did you know that’s how he felt, but you obviously couldn’t be sure given his current alcohol level. “Harry,” you said softly as you guided him to sit on the end of his bed. “We can talk about this more when you’re sober, alright?”
You almost felt guilty. If this really was how he felt, you were sure this wouldn’t be the type of situation for him to tell you. You knew how Harry was just from the little things he had done for you over your time together. He was sentimental, and he treasured when things were genuine. This isn’t how he would want this to go.
“No, no,” Harry reached forward to wrap his arms around your waist, pulling you into him which caused you to gasp. He rested his forehead against your stomach, but you kept your arms limp by your sides. “The thing is, ‘m too much of a coward to tell you when I’m sober. Never been so intimidated by someone in my life.”
You? Intimidating?
Yeah, he was definitely letting the pints and shots he had do the talking.
“Look, I can initiate the conversation next time we see each other that way we can ease into it, but you’re going to regret doing this right now.”
Lifting his head, Harry stared up at you with his droopy green eyes. He moved one hand to rest on your hip, while his other just barely reached to wrap around the back of your neck. “Thought about kissing you,” his lips rolled into his mouth for just a moment before continuing to speak. “Think about it all the time.”
The truth was, you had thought about kissing him too, and you’re sure if you were the one spilling your guts right now, you’d use the same phrasing - you thought about it all the time.
“Come on, H,” the nickname you rarely used slipped from your mouth as you tried to calm him down a bit more. “Let me get you some pajamas so you can change.”
You wrapped your hands around each of his wrists to break his hold on you, and you walked over to his dresser to pull out a pair of joggers and a shirt. 
By the time you turned around, Harry was on his back still fully clothed with his mouth wide open. In the twenty seconds it had taken you to get him proper pajamas, he had passed out.
“You’ve gotta be joking,” you mumbled as you walked back over to him, tossing the pajamas onto the top of the dresser before doing so.
Lowering yourself to the ground, you untied each of his shoes and slipped them off of his feet before tossing them to the side. You stood up, tugging his body around so you could at least get his suit jacket off. Unfortunately, the rest of it would be staying on. You didn’t feel comfortable changing him without his permission as this situation had never happened before.
With every bit of strength you could muster up, you pulled Harry further back onto the bed so that his head was on one of his pillows, and you tucked him underneath the sheets. 
You went downstairs to grab the glass of water that you had talked about before, as well as two Tylenol and a granola bar. Going up to his bedroom one last time, you placed all the items onto his nightstand, and retrieved his phone out of his jacket pocket to plug it in before you exited the house all together.
You weren’t sure if Harry was going to remember this evening or not. And you weren’t really sure if you wanted him to.
ꕤ • ꕤ • ꕤ • ꕤ
“Y/N, are you almost ready?” You heard Harry’s voice, followed by a tapping of knuckles against your hotel room door.
You and Harry were out of town for a work event, and you were just putting the finishing touches on your look, however, you hadn’t been able to put your dress on yet as you just finished curling your hair.
Making sure that your robe was tied securely around you, you walked over to the door and opened it - your jaw immediately dropping as you saw how delicious Harry looked in his suit.
“Oh my,” you gasped before you could stop yourself, but once your eyes met his, you cleared your throat. “You look spectacular, Harry.”
You could see a pink tint washing over his cheeks, and it was then you noticed the garment bag he had draped over the crease of one of his arms.
“Thank you,” he smiled before tilting his chin towards the bag. “I know you probably brought your own dress, but I saw this the other day when I picked up my suit, and it reminded me of you.”
You watched as he extended the garment bag to you, and you shook your head. “Harry, I don’t know if I could-”
“Please, Y/N, it would mean a lot to me if you’d wear it. If you don’t like it though, you don’t have to.”
You wanted to ask how he knew your size, but you figured he made a mental note when taking your dress to the dry cleaners that one day. 
Sucking in a deep breath, you took the bag from him. “I just need to change and then I’m ready to go.”
Harry nodded. “Take all the time you need. I’ll wait for you down in the lobby. Do you want me to order you a quick drink?”
“That’s okay,” you shook your head. “I’ll have a drink at the event.”
Harry knew that would probably be the only one you’d have for the evening given your track record. “Well, I’ll leave you to it.”
You kept your eyes on Harry’s retreating frame as he walked down the hotel hallway, and you sighed as you shut the door.
It had been a few weeks since Harry’s confession after the bar. When you saw him at work on Monday, he apologized profusely for how drunk he had gotten, but he also thanked you for getting him home. You didn’t want to just flat out ask if he remembered what happened by reciting exactly what he said, so you asked him if he remembered almost pulling the both of you down the stairs instead.
That’s when he confessed he didn’t remember a thing after approaching you at the bar. Since he didn’t remember anything, you decided that you’d leave it. It was probably for the best anyway, and you didn’t want to embarrass him.
But the truth was, Harry lied.
He remembered everything, which shocked him given how drunk he was, and he was so ashamed of himself. He couldn’t believe that he rambled to you about how he felt, how he wanted to be your boyfriend. Not to mention he spilled that he thought about kissing you all the time.
Harry knew it was wrong to lie to you, considering it wasn’t like you could forget what happened. Technically neither could he, but at least he could act like he did.
The fact that you accepted the dress made him happy. There had been a weight in his chest since everything happened because things didn’t feel like they used to between the two of you, and he had no one to blame for that by himself. He didn’t lie about how he came to find the dress though. He really did see it in the window a couple shops down from where he got his suit. He just hoped that you liked it.
Leaning against the bar in the lobby, Harry had ordered himself a short glass of tequila on the rocks - just something to ease his nerves as he waited for you. He was hoping the fact that it was just the two of you on this trip that things could go back to the way they were. You were here together for the weekend, just arriving today and then heading home Monday morning.
He missed the playful banter between the two of you, but most of all, he missed your giggles. He had only heard one or two since that night, and it was eating away at him that he was the reason they went away.
Just as he was sipping the rest of his drink, he heard the clicking of heels against the tiled floor of the lobby, and he turned to look towards the elevators.
Harry thought he was going to fall through the floor just at the sight of you in that dress. He watched as your eyes searched around before falling onto him, and you sent him a small smile as you started to make your way over. 
“Wow, Y/N,” Harry met you halfway, having finished off his drink and already paid his tab. “You're stunning.”
You knew you were blushing due to his compliment, so you tried your best to change the subject off of your appearance.
“Let’s just hope I make it through the night without breaking an ankle in these heels,” you joked, causing a soft laugh to leave Harry.
“I’ll make sure you’re steady on your feet, don’t worry.”
You each took a moment to take each other in once more before Harry was extending his arm out to you. “Shall we? The car is waiting out front for us.”
Your eyes dwelled on his arm for a moment before you closed the gap between the two of you completely, cupping the crease of his elbow as he started to lead you towards the doors of the hotel.
Once outside, the driver opened the back door of the car, and when he went to extend his hand for you to take for assistance while getting in, Harry made it a point to stand right in front of him and offer you his hand instead. You couldn’t fight the small smirk that pushed its way forward, and you took Harry’s hand before entering the back seat.
You slid all the way over, watching as Harry got in right behind you, and the driver shut the door.
“Didn’t want him holding my hand?” You asked, raising a brow.
Harry rubbed his hand along the back of his neck before shrugging. “I guess not.”
It reminded you of him saying he didn’t like that man talking to you at the bar, and for some reason, the thought of him being jealous over you caused a new feeling to ignite in your stomach.
Did it turn you on?
You were drawn out of your thoughts as you heard the driver’s side door shut, and you started off towards the event venue.
“Nervous?” You questioned, knowing this was Harry’s first big event since taking on his position.
“A little bit, yeah.”
But not because of the event. He was nervous because of you.
“Me too,” you confessed, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “I haven’t been to an event like this in a while. I’d come along with Mr. Crawford, but I’d stay at the hotel.”
Harry’s brows narrowed. “He didn’t allow you to accompany him?”
“No, not seen and not heard, remember?” You shrugged. “It’s okay though. I used to just order a bunch of room service, or I’d pay the hotel spa a little visit. He covered all the expenses which was the silver lining.”
“But still. That’s awful to make you travel all this way for you not to be able to participate in the main reason for coming.”
“To be honest, I probably would’ve had a terrible time. He was no fun,” you laughed softly, causing a small smile to grace Harry’s lips. “Not like you.”
“You think I’m fun?” Harry tilted his head to the side playfully.
“Definitely the most fun boss I’ve ever had. But I’ve only had one other than Mr. Crawford, and that was when I worked at a clothing store,” you joked.
“You wanna know a secret?” Harry asked.
Your stomach swirled a little bit at his question, but you nodded. “Sure.”
“I’ve never been a boss before. I wasn’t CEO at my last office even though I was practically doing the job. The other guy just got to be the face for all my hard work.”
“Oh my god, Harry, that’s awful,” you shook your head. “That’s seriously messed up.”
“It was, but I would’ve never left had I actually been the CEO, therefore, I would’ve never met you,” the words slipped from Harry’s mouth before he could process, and you watched as his eyes widened.
His slip up caused your heart to flutter, but you couldn’t allow yourself to get too giddy over it. Harry made it clear that his confession that one night was just drunk rambling, so it was clear your affection wasn’t reciprocated in the same manner.
“Very true,” you decided to finally respond after a moment. “I could’ve had another Mr. Crawford if it weren’t for you.”
The conversation came to an end as you approached the venue, and Harry got out of the car first - extending his hand out just like he had when you got in. You took it, and once you were out of the car, he offered you his arm just like he had back at the hotel, and your hand once again made its home in the crease of his elbow.
The two of you walked into the building, and when you saw just how many people there were, you subconsciously curled yourself into Harry’s side a little more.
“Lots of people, yeah?” Harry asked, and he turned his head to look down at you. Even with your heels, he still stood taller.
Biting down your bottom lip, the two of you ran your eyes over each other's faces before you answered. “Mhmm.”
You noticed the way that Harry’s eyes focused in on your mouth, and for the first time, you wished he’d actually kiss you. You wanted nothing more than to feel his lips against yours, but you knew it was wishful thinking.
“Mr. Styles!” The call of his name caused the two of you to separate, and you looked over to see the investor who had invited you to this event. “And Y/N, you look amazing.”
The man placed his hand on your hip, and leaned in to press a kiss against your cheek. Your eyes flitted over to Harry as he did so, and you could see his fists flexing by his side.
“Nice to see you again, Mr. Noble,” you said once he pulled away from you. “Thank you again for the invitation.”
“Of course, Harry here was also very insistent that you be joining him, even though it was already my intention to have you here.”
You could see Harry’s cheeks flush as Mr. Noble spoke, and you knew that wasn’t necessarily something he wanted you to know.
“Well still, I appreciate it very much.”
Mr. Noble nodded before extending his hand behind him. “Bar is all the way in the back, and there’s servers walking around with hor-d’oeuvres, so please, help yourselves.”
Once he walked away, you looked over to Harry. “Should we get ourselves some drinks?”
“Sure,” Harry placed his hand along your lower back as you made your way through the sea of people.
Just the smallest touch from him could warrant butterflies flying in your tummy, and as much as you loved it, you also hated it. You hated it because you knew those butterflies would never lead to anything. Sometimes you wondered if you’d be stuck with this stupid crush on your boss forever.
“What would you like to drink?” Harry asked you once you approached the bar, and you knew you needed something strong to ease your mind.
“I’ll take a whiskey on the rocks.”
Harry’s eyebrows raised at that, and part of him wanted to question you about it, but he decided against it.
“A tequila on the rocks, and a whiskey on the rocks, please,” he spoke to the bartender for the two of you, and you turned your attention to the floor of people conversing around you.
It wasn’t until you felt the side of Harry’s finger gliding against the outside of your arm that you looked back to him, and you saw he was extending your drink out to you.
“Thank you.”
You took it from him, taking a large sip to start which caused you to wince.
“Everything okay?” Harry’s face showed his concern.
“Just a lot of people,” you repeated his observation from earlier, and even though Harry didn’t believe you, he let it be.
“Ladies and gentlemen, dinner will be served in ten minutes!” The announcement rang overhead, and you felt Harry’s hand against your back once more.
“We should find our seats.”
ꕤ • ꕤ • ꕤ • ꕤ
You ended up having another whiskey, which Harry knew was extremely unusual for you, and it caused him to worry. Even though you still seemed just fine, he didn’t want you overdoing it. You had mentioned to him once that you didn’t like the feeling of being drunk, and that’s why you only ever stuck to one drink.
The event had wrapped up, and you and Harry found yourselves back in the lobby of your hotel.
“Feeling okay?” Harry checked in on you as he pressed the up button for the elevator, and you nodded.
“Just fine,” you answered, which was the truth.
The extra drink didn’t have you feeling very different, it was just helping you calm those nerves that had been wracking your system for the past few hours.
As you both stepped into the elevator, you ran your hands over your dress which had you realizing you hadn’t thanked Harry for buying it for you.
“This dress is so beautiful, Harry,” you told him, and he looked over at you as you did. “Thank you for buying it for me. I know it must have been expensive.”
Harry waved his hand in the air softly while the other stayed tucked into his pocket. “I didn’t even think about that when buying it for you. Just saw it and knew you had to have it.”
“It’s probably the prettiest piece of clothing I own now,” you laughed, which brought a smile to his face.
The elevator doors opened, and you both started towards your rooms which were right next to each other. After fishing your room key out of your clutch, you turned to face Harry for a moment.
“I had a really good time this evening. I hope that you did too.”
“I did,” Harry nodded. “It was nice seeing them raise all that money for charity, and I was happy to be a part of it.”
Part of you hoped he would have complimented the company he had instead of just speaking about work, but you didn’t know why you had expected that to begin with. 
He’s your boss. That’s all. 
You had thought for a moment there that it was maybe leading to something more, but with the way Harry had been acting ever since the night you took him home, you knew that was no longer the case.
“Well, goodnight,” you said softly, forcing a smile on your lips before swiping your key and entering your room. 
Your mood was officially deflated, and you hated that you felt that way. You had no right to. You indulged too far into the fantasy you had created in your head. You had no one to blame for that but yourself.
Sighing, you tossed your clutch onto the dresser with your room key before heading into the bathroom. You reached your hands behind you to pull down the zipper, but it wasn’t budging.
“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” you huffed as you turned and looked over your shoulder in the mirror so you could properly see the zipper, and it was then you noticed it was caught on the fabric of your dress.
You closed your eyes as you took in a deep breath as the realization that you were going to have to ask Harry for help dawned on you.
Grabbing your room key, you walked out of your room and over to his door. You had your fist raised above the wooden surface for a few seconds before you finally found the courage to knock. At first you didn’t hear anything, and you thought maybe he was in the shower and couldn’t hear you. You couldn’t bring yourself to knock again, in case he had heard it and was ignoring you, but just as you turned to walk back to your room, you heard the door open.
You looked over to see him standing in the doorway, and you couldn’t help but drop your jaw as you saw that he was just wearing a pair of joggers low on his hips. 
Your eyes ran over the ink that was etched into his skin, particularly the ones that draped over his hips, and the large butterfly on his stomach.
“I-I’m sorry,” you stammered, clearing your throat once you forced yourself to look at only his eyes. “My…my zipper. It’s caught.”
Harry’s eyebrows knitted together as he stepped to the side. “Come on in - let me have a look.”
You walked into his room, and you glanced into the bathroom to see that his toiletry bag was open.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt,” you stated, figuring he was just about to get in the shower.
“Nonsense, Y/N, you’re not bothering me. There’s no need to apologize. Turn around so I can see.”
Swallowing harshly, you turned around and brought all your hair over one of your shoulders so he had proper access to the zipper. You soon felt his hands on you, one cupping your ribcage while the other fiddled with the zipper.
“Oh, I see,” he mumbled, and you knew he was mostly talking to himself.
His hand gave your ribcage a small squeeze before he brought it up to meet the other one. You felt a bit of tugging for a few seconds before the sound of the zipper being pulled down filled your ears, and you felt the dress loosening against your torso.
“There you go,” Harry whispered, and you felt his fingertips dancing along the tops of your shoulders.
You kept your back to him, looking at him over your shoulder as you licked over your bottom lip. By the look in his eyes, you could tell he was pondering over something, and you couldn’t seem to stop yourself before speaking.
“Are you thinking of kissing me?”
Harry’s lips parted at your words, and you held a hand up against the top of your dress to keep it in place as you turned to face him.
“You told me you think about it all the time that night,” you told him, and you could feel your heart pounding against your ribcage. “And I should have told you that I think about it too.”
Stepping forward, Harry got rid of all the space between the two of you as he brought a hand up to cradle your chin in his palm. “Y/N, please don’t be playing with me.”
You shook your head as you let your freehand glide over the forearm of the hand connected to your face. “I’m not, Harry. I know it’s wrong, and that we’d be stepping over a line, but I can’t help it. I’m so enamored by you.”
Your breath caught in your throat as Harry moved his face forward, but you felt him tilting your head to the side - giving him full access to one of the sides of your neck. His lips grazed your skin, and as little as the contact was, you couldn’t stop the moan that left you.
“Please,” you pleaded, wrapping your hand around his wrist and giving it a squeeze. “Please, Harry.”
It was then that his lips fully connected to your neck, and he kissed his way down over the top of your shoulder. Your fingers dented his skin as he then made his way back up to your jawline. “Tell me what you want, Y/N.”
“You,” it came out as a whine unintentionally, but you couldn’t help it. You were a woman blinded by your want for him. “I need you.”
All time stood still as Harry’s mouth finally met yours - causing you to let out a small gasp. He took this as an invitation to seal his lips around your bottom one, and he lightly sucked it into his mouth. Another moan left you, and it was then you moved your hand from your chest - your dress falling to the ground around your heeled feet as you pressed your body against his.
Harry’s hands then grazed down your body until they met the rounds of your ass, kneading them softly before he dropped them lower to the back of your thighs. He was then lifting you off the ground, and you wrapped your legs around his waist - ankles crossed along his lower back as he walked you over to his bed, and you kicked your heels off your feet.
He laid you down gently right in the middle of the bed, and you finally opened your eyes to see him hovering over you. His eyes were drinking you, and you could tell he was admiring your breasts as they heaved up and down from the deep breaths you had to remind yourself to take. His cross pendant swung back and forth before resting against your chest when he leaned down to place another sweltering kiss on your mouth.
You couldn’t believe this was happening. Something that you had imagined in your mind for so long was now becoming a reality.
Your hands trembled as you brought them up to rest on his pecs, and you could feel that his heart was pounding just as hard as yours.
“Y/N, I have to tell you something,” Harry pulled away from your lips with a soft smack, and you couldn’t help but panic at his words. “I lied.”
You waited a moment before speaking. “You lied about what?”
“That night. I do remember confessing everything to you, but I was so embarrassed that it felt better for me to act like I had forgotten it. I was so nervous that I had ruined everything, and I thought lying would make things okay. I was wrong for doing that.”
“And you meant what you said?”
Harry nodded. “Meant every fucking word. I’m crazy about you.”
This time you initated the kiss as you wrapped one of your hands around the back of his neck, and you brought his mouth down against yours once more.
Your other hand journeyed down his chiseled chest to the waistband of his joggers, and you tugged at them - signaling that you wanted them off. Your eyes were closed as you felt him moving around, but they shot open when you could feel his hard length resting against your stomach. You had expected him to be wearing underwear.
Disconnecting your mouths, you looked down to see his cock - hard and leaking against your skin.
“Sorry,” he blushed furiously as you briefly looked up at him before looking back down. “I’m just so turned on right now. I’ve thought about this for so long.”
“Me too,” you nodded, running your tongue along your cheek before you reached down to wrap your hand around his shaft.
Keeping your eyes on his face, you watched as Harry’s eyes fluttered shut, and his breathing deepened once you began to work your hand over him. “Feels so good.”
“Yeah?” You let your hand leave him for just a second to spit into your palm before you started your movements right back up. “Can’t even fit my hand around you, Harry. You’re so big.”
Your dirty talk shocked him. For someone so quiet and reserved in the office, you sure did have a way of speaking in the bedroom.
“Pretty little hand just squeezing me, hm?” Harry knew he could dish it right back to you - the thought of the two of you going back and forth causing another blurt of precome to drip from his leaky slit. “I could come just from this, to be honest. Fucked my fist so many times thinking about you. Felt wrong to moan your name, but I couldn’t help it.”
“Thought about me while touching yourself?” You earned a nod from Harry in response. “Thought about you too when I’d have my toy sucking on my clit. I always pictured it was your perfect lips playing with me. I would moan your name too. I had to. I could only get off when thinking of you.”
“Who knew you were so dirty?” Harry chuckled, pressing his tongue against the inside of his bottom lip. “You’re so fucking sexy, Y/N. My little minx.”
You couldn’t help but giggle at that, but you nodded as well. “Just yours. Only want to be yours.”
Your hand began to work him faster, and you moved your free hand down to swipe your fingers along the precome that was continuously dripping onto your stomach. Harry’s eyes were glued to your every move, and you bit down on your bottom lip as you smeared his arousal over his lips before slipping your fingers between your own.
“So yummy,” you commented as you held his eyes. “I can’t wait to taste all of you.”
“Fuck,” Harry groaned before licking over his lips. “You’re going to make me come.”
“Please,” you mimicked your plea from earlier. “I want it all over my tummy.”
“Want me painting your skin with my come?”
“Again, I need you to,” you moved your legs around to where one of Harry’s toned thighs was pressed right against your covered cunt.
You began to rock your hips back and forth, a hardy moan flooding out of your throat as you did so. Your clit was throbbing - begging for attention as your hand continued to glide up and down Harry’s prick.
“Oh my god,” Harry gasped, and you looked up just in time to see his eyes shutting again with a slack jaw. “For fuck’s sake.”
It was then you felt his come shooting out, coating your stomach and even reaching up to your breasts as you rode him through his orgasm. Once you knew he was finished, you couldn’t help but tighten your hand once more, and you watched as you milked another string of come from him.
“Jesus, Y/N,” Harry dropped his forehead against you, but he kept his torso hovering yours.
Still mesmerized by his load on your stomach, you didn’t even notice his hand had slipped between your legs until you felt his fingers gliding through your drenched folds - your underwear tenting around his hand.
“Oh,” you whimpered, tossing your head back. “Feels good.”
“Barely touching you, baby,” Harry chuckled as he used his index and middle fingers to spread you apart - the pad of his thumb pressing down against your pulsing clit.
You moaned as he began to move his digit in circles, and your eyes followed him as he leaned down. Sticking out his tongue, he licked over your nipples, cleaning up his come as he sucked on them. It caused you to clench down around nothing, and you could feel yourself growing wetter by the second.
“Yes,” you gasped as his teeth grazed against the pebbled bud.
“Like having your little nipples played with, honey?” Harry asked, smirking up at you. “Pretty little things they are. I knew they would be. Pretty nipples, and a pretty pink pussy. Never seen something as pretty as you in my life.”
“And I’ve never seen something as pretty as you,” you breathed as he started giving attention to your other nipple as well.
Soon his mouth had worked to clean all of his come off of your skin, and it was then that he moved his hand around to have his middle and ring fingers slipping inside of your welcoming entrance while his other hand pulled your underwear off.
“Christ, Y/N,” Harry groaned, shaking his head. “You’re so fucking tight.”
“It’s been a while,” you confessed as you bucked your hips up against his hand - feeling the heel of his palm against your clit.
“How long?” Harry began to move his fingers with more purpose, and you choked as a moan got stuck in your throat.
“Three…three years.”
Harry’s movement stilled, evoking a whine from you as you snaked your hips around.
“You’re serious?”
“Yes,” you swallowed, using this little pause to try and catch your breath. “Haven’t had anyone since my last boyfriend. I don’t go out much, and I don’t like dating apps. I haven’t really had the opportunity to meet anyone.”
Harry leaned down to massage his lips against yours briefly before pulling back - knocking his nose against yours. “I’m about to give your the best fucking of your life, you understand?”
Another moan left you at his words, and you nodded. “Please.”
Harry’s fingers left you, and he got off the bed to walk over to his wallet on top of the dresser. You watched as he retrieved the square foil package from it before he climbed back onto the bed over you.
“You’re sure about this?” Harry asked. “This…this changes everything.”
“I’m sure,” you reached up to wrap your arms around his neck. “I’ve wanted you for so long, Harry. I know that I want this.”
“I’ve wanted you too, Y/N. You have no idea how badly.”
You heard the sound of the package opening, and you looked down to watch Harry roll the rubber over his length - him having grown fully hard once again.
“Ready?” Harry lined himself up with your entrance, and you felt his head pressing just lightly against your fluttering hole.
“Yes, yes. Please, fuck me.”
With the angling of his hips forward, Harry’s tip entered you, and you groaned as you felt him stretching you completely.
“Gotta relax, honey,” Harry’s hands reached down to massage your hips. “Breathe in with me. I’ll count. One, two, three, four, five.”
You each let the deep breath back out, and he smiled down at you.
“Again,” he instructed you, but this time, he began sinking his length inside of you as he spoke each number. “One, two, three, four, five.”
Eventually he bottomed out completely, sheathed inside your warm cunt, and you felt yourself clench down around him.
“You’re so big,” you whimpered, nails digging into his biceps. “Never had anything this big inside me before.”
“Never? Not even a toy?” Harry asked as he drew his hips back before thrusting in again.
“No,” you shook your head. “My biggest is hardly half your size. I’m not the biggest fan of dildos or vibrators. My suction toy gets me off just fine.”
“Well, I don’t think you’ll be needing that too much anymore,” Harry laughed as his hands now cupped your breasts. “I’ll make sure you’re satisfied every damn day.”
He gave you three aggressive thrusts as he spoke those last three words, and you felt your eyes roll into the back of your head. “Yes.”
“That sound good to you, baby?” Harry started up a steady pace - his balls slapping against your rear entrance as he did so. “Have you coming on my fingers, my tongue or my cock every day? You’re never going to go without, understand?”
“Mhmm,” you mewled, arching your tits further into his palms. “I understand.”
For a few moments, only soft moans and heavy breathing filled the room, accompanied by the sound of your skin slapping together as Harry satiated your sexual hunger. You had never been fucked like this before in your life. He was taking you with such precision - each of his thrusts filled with a purpose. The purpose being to get you off by any means necessary.
“You know what else I’ve thought about?” Harry asked after capturing your lips in a brief kiss. “Thought about taking you in my office, especially on those days where you wear those tight pencil skirts, or those flowy dresses, and I think about bending you over my desk - taking you from behind.”
“Yeah?” You stared up at him. “Thought about taking you at work too. I thought about - uh - riding you as you sit in your desk chair, and I wouldn’t even care if people heard. I see the way Darlene in marketing looks at you. I’d want her to know it was me who got to have your cock.”
Your words caused Harry to give you an extra hard thrust, and you could feel his tip punching against your most sensitive spot.
“I would hope they all hear,” Harry tilted his head down, spitting against your clit before beginning to use the tips of his fingers to play with it. “Hope they all know it’s me who gets to fuck you this good.”
“Promise me,” your hands found their way to Harry’s back, and you dragged your nails down his skin. “Promise me you’ll fuck me in your office first thing Tuesday morning. I’ll wear my prettiest underwear - just for you.”
“Better be just for me,” Harry growled as he smacked your wet pearl. “I’m the only one who gets this cunt now.”
“The only one,” you agreed. “I don’t want anyone else. Just you.”
“And I only want you. God, I can’t believe this is happening right now. I’ve finally got you underneath me.”
“Want to stay underneath you,” you babbled as you felt heat pooling in your lower stomach. “Harry, I’m close.”
Harry’s fingers applied more pressure to your clit, and it was then that your orgasm washed over you. You could feel yourself gushing past Harry’s covered cock - your body trembling as your knees squeezed against his hips.
“Oh my god,” your head lulled to the side as you started to come back down. “I’ve never come so hard in my life.”
“Look so pretty when you come,” Harry shook his head, still not believing that he was seeing you like this. “It’s a fucking honor to see something as gorgeous as that.”
You started to lift your hips up to meet his movements, and you could feel yourself clenching down around him again. If he kept this up, you’d definitely be having another orgasm before you were finished.
“You feel so good around my cock, Y/N. Never had a cunt fit me so perfectly. Take a look.”
One of Harry’s hands cupped the back of your neck, and he sat up just a bit as he pulled your head up. You peered down, spreading your legs further as you watched his thick cock glide in and out of you.
“Look at that,” you bit down on your bottom lip, a whimper leaving you as you couldn’t find it in yourself to look away. “Just clinging to you, huh?”
Harry hummed in response, and you could feel his thrusts growing a bit uneven. “I’m about to come, baby.”
“Me too. I’m going to come again, Harry. I want you to come with me.”
After a few more thrusts, you felt absolute pleasure blanket over you for the second time, and you watched as your orgasm coated him completely. It was then you looked up to see Harry’s face contorting once again, and this time he looked even more glorious than before as he emptied himself inside of the condom.
Making sure that you both rode your highs out completely, Harry continued his movements for just a few more seconds before he collapsed on top of you.
Your bodies were sticky with sweat as you clung to each other, and your fingers played with the hairs at the nape of his neck. This all felt so right - that the both of you were exactly where you needed to be in each other’s arms
You opened your eyes when you felt Harry’s head tilting up, and you both smiled at each other. “Hi,” he said, fingertips dipping into the ridges of your ribs.
“Hi,” you giggled, and you saw his face brighten even more at that. 
“I missed that sound,” he told you. “It’s one of my favorite things.”
“Well, I think you’ll be hearing a lot of it now,” you smirked, pushing some of his curls off his forehead.
“I can’t wait.”
Harry gave you a quick kiss as he pulled out, and he helped you into the bathroom before giving you privacy to clean yourself up. He discarded the condom in the trash can before slipping back into his joggers.
Once you were out of the bathroom, Harry’s eyes ran over your naked form as you approached him. You threw your arms around his neck to bring him down for another kiss as Harry rested his hands against your hips.
“So, I guess now if someone at the bar asks if you’re my boyfriend, you don’t have to lie this time,” you teased.
“Oh yeah?” Harry’s smirk that you’ve come to love so much crept its way into his lips. “So, I’m your boyfriend now?”
“Mhmm,” you hummed. “If you want to be.”
“Are you kidding me? Been dying to be able to say that and actually have it be real. I wanna fucking tell everyone that I’m yours, but I’ll make sure we’re careful at the office. It’ll all work out.”
You both shared another kiss before you just hovered your lips over his.
“So…round two?”
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macfrog · 4 months
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psyche and cupid | one shot
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happy valentine's, beautiful people. i love you with all of my heart. xx shoutout to @familyvideostevie for putting joel's slutty little thigh holster into my head and, well. yeah. pairing: jackson!joel miller x fem!reader summary: valentine's day with joel doesn't go to plan. warnings: part two never happened!!!!! abby who!!!, established relationship, cursing, half joel pov, unspecified age gap, hints to reader having a sliver of ptsd, jesse is alive and well because he is my prince and i said so, reader has dark pubic hair, masturbation, somnophilia (not discussed in this fic but she is a-ok with it) and therefore dubcon, sprinkle of praise kink, oral (f!receiving), someone comes in his underwear, these two goofballs are big in love word count: 5.5k
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It’s not in his nightstand.
Not hung over the newel post, either.
He said he left it on the kitchen counter yesterday, right after he got home; said he woke up this morning and it was gone. And then he muttered something of an accusation that someone had tidied it away and forgotten where, and that started a whole new argument.
You know what, Joel? You’re following his tall figure as it sways down the hallway, his strides longer and considerably smoother than your flurrying shadow in his wake. Maybe if you weren’t going out today, we wouldn’t be having this problem.
His chin tilts upward, salt and pepper scruff angled to the ceiling with a ha slung from his throat. Yeah, he tosses a glance over his shoulder, we’d just be havin’ it tomorrow, instead.
You scoff in response, stepping where his boots lift off from, following the heavy thud thud thud like a cat at his heels until he’s rounding the corner towards your bedroom.
You pass over the messy trail of your jeans and Joel’s pajama bottoms, your underwear and his leading in a trail to the unmade bed – sheets like a rippled wave painted golden by the dawn.
The two of you split off – Joel lifts the cotton and watches it float back down over the flat of your mattress. Nothing.
You take the closet – the squeal of metal on metal harsh in your sleepy ears as you shove the hanging clothes aside, swiping around at the floor. Also, unsurprisingly, nothing.
Deflated, you straighten, stars peppering your vision and a tatty sleepshirt pinched in your fingers. Led Zeppelin – some band Joel was into before everything went to shit. You’ve listened to him out on the porch before, plucking strings in time with the record wobbling on the turntable inside.
The collar torn, sleeves pecked with holes, print lost to the years and the dryer – but each time you drape it over your shoulders, he smiles and hums some song from a world you’ll never know.
It’s sweet, when you’re in the mood to be wooed.
Which, incidentally, is not right fucking now.
His eyes flit down to the peeling, grayscale image – and that same smile attempts to bloom on his lips. That’s cute, but it ain’t my holster, pretty bird.
His smirk dampens quickly when he looks back up, snuffed by your stony expression.
You whip the tee down to the foot of the bed. You are a piece of fuckin’ work sometimes, do you know that? you growl, storming by him for the en suite.
Joel’s rough hand slips around your wrist, tugging gently but letting you drag him through to the bathroom.
Just go, Joel, you groan, the chill of the room prickling goosebumps on your naked legs. Give  me some peace and quiet. ‘s not like I’m gonna be seein’ much of you today, anyways.
Is that what this is about? His voice echoes in the morning blue, round in your ears as you hang your head over the sink. Pickin’ a fight ‘cause you’re pissed I’m goin’ out?
I didn’t start the fight, you protest. You’re the one who lost his holster.
Didn’t lose it… he mumbles, lips closing around the sentence when he catches your glare in the mirror. He crosses one ankle over the other, toe of his dusty boot on the cracked tile, and sighs. What do you want me to do, baby? I gotta do my job.
On Valentine’s Day? When I worked extra to get it off, and you can’t even get your brother to swap one shift?
Joel’s expression seems to stiffen, tense with a realization that you know, and now he knows, too – he should’ve had days ago. A weighty breath falls from his nostrils, admitting some kind of defeat, and then he’s wandering carefully over to you, two hands curved over your shoulders.
He lowers his forehead onto the nape of your neck, a slow breath which flutters the loose collar of the flannel you’re wearing and sweeps down your spine. I’m sorry, pretty bird. I didn’t know it meant that much to ya.
It doesn’t, you admit, adding, usually. I just thought we could have a day to ourselves, for once.
He’s nodding, sweep of his fringe tickling the slope of your skin. It’d be a lot more romantic than spendin’ it with Jesse, that’s for sure.
Your bodies fall together with a shared laugh, a bright and charming thing in the dull bathroom light. Joel kisses the soft cushion of your shoulder and hooks his chin over, beard grazing your skin.
I’ll be back before you know it. ‘n then we can do whatever the hell you got planned for us, hm?
He’s steady behind you when you lean back, turning to place a damp kiss to the hinge of his jaw. A reply, a plea – a promise.
In the echoing dripdripdrip from the faucet, Joel pulls apart from you, two fingers pinching the hem of your shirt to pull you back into the bedroom.
You wanna walk me to the gate? he asks, pulling the zipper on his jacket.
What about your holster?
He smiles. I’m sure I’ll survive without it. C’mon. Put some pants on.
February is bitter even by Jackson’s standards – a bite of ice in the air which numbs the tip of your nose and stings the helix of your ears. The chill slips a long, sharp finger down the collar of your – Joel’s jacket, and you wrap the baggy canvas tighter around yourself.
Told you to wear som’ thicker. Joel sighs, grip light around the strap of his shotgun. His elbow nudges into yours, a wide arm wraps around your shoulder and draws you flush against his side. Head on back if you’re cold, he says, rubbing until the friction warms your upper arm.
I’m fine, you lie, eyeing the line of horses up ahead. The eager crunch of their hooves in the frozen ground, the pinkish light on their backs from the sky flooded crimson overhead – a warning from the horizon, you think.
It seems to agitate the animals as much as it does you, their heavy heads tossing nervously, ears flicking and inky eyes blinking.
Jesse meets you by the paddock, slipping Joel the reins of his horse with a curt nod, before hoisting himself atop his own.
It bleats from your lips before you can hold it back. Be careful.
Your frozen fingers claw around the zipper of his coat, tugging it upwards until it brushes against his bottom lip. The weather gets bad, you turn back. Okay?
He’s nodding, paying half his attention to your words, the other half to the little crease between your brows. Sure could use my holster against the cold, baby, he mutters, smirk lifting his cheeks and folding similar creases at the corners of his eyes.
Your eyes narrow, palms landing flat against his strong chest. Home soon?
He hums a little laugh, lips ghosting across your temple as he shifts by. Home soon, he mutters, breath steaming against your cold skin, and he leads the mare off towards the gate.
There’s a lot about Joel you admire.
Each part of him like a pebble stolen on a hike; some more jagged, a little more weathered than others, some well-rounded and smooth to the touch. Each one turned and turned and turned between your fingers until you’re fluent in every pore and vein, then dropped into your pocket alongside the others you’ve collected.
Clacking against one another until you arrive home, coat heavier with the happy burden of how much you love him. The same weight you feel behind your ribcage when you think too much about it.
He takes good care of you – has done since you first happened across one another. As if hanging his hunting jacket over your frail body was a wing over your shoulders; as if, from then on, you would never make a single move again without your grizzly bear of a man making it first.
Quiet about it, sure. Subtle. Opens the crook of his elbow for you to hook your wrist around as you wander through town together, and waits until you’re under the cover of nightfall or behind the close of your front door to do much else.
Asks with little more than a fleeting glance if you’re okay; a squeeze of your knee under the table in the dining hall. A conversation shared between closed lips and the meeting of his honey-flecked gaze, and yours. A language which lives and dies with the pair of you.
He’s guarded – and for all that he’s been through, you figure you can allow him that. Allow him his private peace. For all that he says without saying, all he does without making some big song and dance of it – there hasn’t been a second since you arrived here on the back of his horse, that you haven’t known he loves you.
It’s in him like it’s in you. A fever which broke at the first touch of his hand and yours, the first meeting of his warmth and your chill. Two opposites – cooling the painful sear in his heart, warming the barren frost in yours. Something sewn deep into your flesh, carved right through to the hollow of your bones.
And Jesus, if it doesn’t drive you fucking insane.
The front yard needs tidied up after winter, you notice, as you scuff your way up the path towards the porch. Once the last of the snow dries up, you two can get to repairing the damage done by the blizzards and the gales: fitting new shutters, planting new bulbs.
A cycle you’re still getting used to: the upkeep of a place called home. The strange feeling of having someone you call the same thing.
Your extra shifts at the stables and Joel’s long mornings out on the trails mean your home has gone neglected for a few days. Dishes and cutlery left in the sink, a pile of laundry slowly sprouting to new heights like a wild plant each time you cast a wary glance at it.
It’s not like you’ve much else to do, given Joel won’t be home for at least another couple hours. So you shuck off your jeans, letting the tail of his shirt dangle from your behind, and pick your way around each room – wiping counters and dusting corners, humming along to the crooning old records as they spin in the background.
Playing house at the end of the world. Pretending to listen for the tired exhale of a yellow school bus, mimicking the electrified babble of radio presenters between each track.
The bedroom is arguably the worst offender. Bedsheets used a few days too long, clothes strung across the floor – the relics of a late one at the Tipsy Bison. It’s no wonder you’re so fucking tired.
Echoes of stumbling footsteps and hushed, drunken giggles loop your ears, the groaning bedsprings and blunt thud of the headboard. You pluck the underwear and socks one by one, your body wincing around a satisfied ache still lingering, and shuffle over to the laundry hamper, lifting the lid to –
The dopey smile on your lips dissolves instantly. You gotta be fucking…
The buckle glints in the light, silver blinking up at you from its bed of dirty laundry. The tan strap coiled and neatly slung through its fastener; the pouch empty. Awkward and ashamed, lying there in front of you. Apologetic, almost.
Your eyes roll closed; a short, hot breath seeping past your lips. A silent promise embedding beneath your tongue to take him by the sleeve as soon as he crosses the threshold, force him to lift the lid himself. An I told you so already brewing in the pit of your stomach.
The holster’s actually pretty heavy when you lift it up in the light. Leather a little worn, stitching frayed where it should clip around his belt.
It’s the size and width of him: a thick, toned thigh slotted inside the loop of leather, fixed by fingers long void of feeling when he’s been riding to the outpost, chasing infected, plunging his knife deep into their necks.
Patrol was never your thing. Joel took you out just once – but there are cracks in your past which threaten to split you in two, it seems, the longer you spend outside the settlement walls. Phantoms which follow close behind in the form of snapping twigs, of the wind rustling in the trees overhead. Shadows living in your periphery with curled sneers and spits of filth.
You lasted twenty minutes, that first and only day, before Joel had your horses tied together and your body shelled in his own, taking you straight back home.
But the thought of this around his thigh, the thought of him adjusting it to the waistband of his jeans; his hand floating down to settle gently atop it when he’s listening for danger approaching, two fingers slipping into the trigger guard.
It…stirs something.
You pad over to the bathroom, hopping as you step into the strap. He wears it on his right leg, right? You pull it past your ankle, ball of your foot slamming clumsily back down on the tile.
Adjusting it to fit your thigh, you bunch the hem of his shirt in one fist and stare back at your reflection. Her nervous stance, hips swaying left to right as she peruses the figure opposite.
Who is she, this mirage – naked thigh decorated with her man’s leather, fingernails tracing the messy stitching and imagining the weight of his gun, keen in the pouch?
A strange aura of possession about it, like a part of him locked firm around a part of you, from however many miles away. You swear you can feel the ghost of his warmth on the inside of the strap, wrapped around your sensitive skin.
Yeah.
Stirs something, alright.
Joel’s been gone little over an hour. He’s probably at the outpost by now, logging All clear and pretending to let Jesse take the lead. Wide shoulders swaying as he wanders from room to room, a careful scope of the valley from each window, tongue tracing the bottom of his teeth.
Ridges of his knuckles white around the grip of his shotgun, squinting down the barrel. Lines drawn between his brows and at the corners of his eyes like scores on parchment, focus and concentration tight on his face.
You sink back into the cradle of your bed, that divot where his body and yours meet each night. Each part of you intertwining with a part of him: the place where you become one. His smell and your touch, your giggle and his teeth.
A sudden, powerful thing which hammers through your veins and jumps your body for a few seconds – you pull the first orgasm from between your legs within a matter of minutes. The sight of his shirt disturbed over your stomach, the feeling of blood squeezing past taut leather enough to throw you under by itself, never mind the fast snap of your fingers deep inside your body.
Another – slower, lazier, still vibrating from the first – then almost a third, but the crinkle of sheets at your ears, the pillow-soft landscape beneath your heavy body, begins to sweep you off somewhere.
And in as little time as it took to entice you into the water in the first place, you slip beneath the waves.
The house is quiet when he finally makes it home.
Jesus, Joel thinks, what a shift.
Not one infected the entire run, he can’t quite believe – but Jesse caught his palm on some warped sheet of chain link fence, then almost passed out when he looked down and saw the scarlet seeping from his shredded skin.
The pair sat for half an hour, unsheltered in the unforgiving wind, waiting for the kid’s head to stop spinning and the cold to rob the feeling from his hand.
All Joel wanted was to get home to you. You, and your hips swaying as you stand by the stove, and his hands kneading into the velvet plush of your waist, and the smell of burnt sausages and spatter of angry oil from the pan.
He’s so late. He said he’d be as quick as he could, said you’d barely know he was gone, and he’s so fucking late.
But he’s here now, at least.
He’s home.
As he kicks off his boots, snow sprinkling from the soles onto the doormat, he notices the absence of your arms around his waist. The missing weight at the back of him, no ear flat against his spine and hands interlocked above his belt. No relieved, I missed you, no nuzzle of your head under his arm.
The house is still and dim. The turntable spins in the corner, a dead crackle playing nothing for no one. Joel sniffs, eyeing the room and its new, orderly form: the books slotted neatly on their shelves, the rings of coffee wiped clean from the table.
Lifting the needle from the record, Joel calls out, Baby?
Maybe you’re in town somewhere. Maybe you’ve gone to spend the morning with the horses. But then, you would’ve been watching for his arrival. Would’ve skipped out from the stables and swung around his body, a gleeful smile and an outstretched hand. Take me home, cowboy.
And you wouldn’t have left the lights still burning, the player still turning. Your coat is still on its hook, smaller and brighter and where it belongs on the right of Joel’s. The cushions on the couch are fluffed and smooth, perched contentedly in place; the curtains draped in their tie backs.
You’re home. You’ve been home all morning.
So where the fuck are you?
Joel crosses over to the bottom of the stairs, blinking up at the painted cowboys and horses staring down from the landing. Calls your name, a faint singsong as he slowly ascends the stairs. You up there?
Down the wintery dull hallway to the bedroom door, figuring he knows the answer. And he’s right, isn’t he, when he nudges the door open and peers inside, spots the tiny lump of you in your double bed. Sunk deep into the mattress – covers you’d come in here to change, swallowing you whole.
A crooked, exhausted smile pulls across his lips; his thumb hooks around a belt loop, knee cocking.
You’re so…perfect. So heavenly, so still like this – stretched out on your front, breathing in the scent of his pillow and breathing out little puffs of air.
Joel leans over you, a heavy hand pushing into the mattress above your shoulder, and runs a featherlight knuckle over your cheek.
Pretty bird? he whispers, lighter than the long breaths from your sleep-swollen lips.
You don’t stir. No movement, save for the rise and fall of your shoulders wrapped up in his flannel.
Joel feels a pang of guilt, numbed only by the chill still through his body: he woke you this morning, before even the sun had lifted her head. Had you hunting all over the house with him, for some dumb holster that he wound up not even n–
His eyes trail down the shape of your body, draped in the sheets like white marble carved into the round shape of something beautiful, hands following the curve of your thigh. His wrist freezes when it meets the odd bulge of something, an awkward bump beneath the cotton.
He peels the sheet back, lifting it from your shoulders, your waist, your hips – until your angled thigh lies on full display for his feasting eyes.
His fucking holster…wrapped tight around your fucking thigh.
A disbelieving laugh at first – a She told me so, before he notices the indents in your skin, the stretched leather snug around your leg, riding higher than it should at the doing of your slumber.
Christ, baby, he breathes, stare glued to the folds of plaid hooked around the belt loop. Following the tatty hem down past your hip, along the underside of your ass – riding up some, right where your legs part.
And between them, all sheer and thin, twisted around itself and slipping between: your underwear. The threading of pubic hair peeking over the frilled hem of it; the sight filling Joel’s mouth with saliva.
A heavy heat forms in his jeans, an irritable weight which aches when he moves; which hardens when he pictures the image of you in his bed, his shirt, his holster wrapped around your thigh – playing with yourself while he’s been gone.
Fuck. Fuckin’…shit.
He lowers, running lips he knows are freezing cold along the burning surface of your skin, tongue slipping past his teeth to drag a wet trail along your thigh.
Your leg shifts under his touch, the startle of his chilled fingertips behind your knee, nuzzling of his nose where the holster sits smugly on your thigh. Smelling like leather and salt, the sticky sheen of sweat still glowing on your skin.
Joel takes your waist in two hands – he can’t fucking help himself, can he? – and turns you, patiently, watching as you roll onto your back so he can drag you further down the bed. Tongue flicking at the corners of his lips, thirsty for something he only wants you to feed him.
Slow, slowly. Every effort put into not waking you, to keeping you in this peachy haze between asleep and awake; your movements long and staggered, held firm against the mattress by the weight of your doze.
With a sigh, your jaw turns to one side. Joel pulls you in, kneeling at the edge of the bed with your socked feet resting on his shoulders. His shirt gathers around your waist; your hips and the thin twine of your underwear spotlighted by stripes of weakened sunlight spilling in through the blinds.
Oh, pretty bird, he groans, slipping his open palms under your ass, rough and squeezing the pillows of flesh in his hands. This all for me?
A moan wrapped in a hefty breath twists from your lips. Your knees fall limp; legs open almost eagerly, like your body inviting him in. And he accepts, takes it with eyes blown black and hungry lips parted – leans in and nestles his nose against the thrumming heartbeat pounding through your clit.
Such a good girl, he whispers, closing his lips in a kiss over your clothed mound, and your hips jolt.
You’re so fucking warm. So wet; sticky and so ready for him. He kisses your folds, suckling gently and letting his tongue dart along the inseam of your lips in flicking movements – collecting the taste of salt and feeling his cock throb against rough denim.
Off? he asks – you and the room and himself – fingers hooking around the underwear rolled on your hips.
When your back arches, body feeling the loss of his tender kiss, rolling like a wave seeking to crash against the steady rock form of his – he smirks to himself.
Joel nods. Off.
He takes his time peeling them from your body, watching as more and more of his paradise is revealed. The waves of your folds, the sheer glisten of arousal along them; the dark hair peppering either side as damp and slick as the skin beneath it.
Your panties drop from a hooked finger without a sound and he turns back, hovering over your waiting cunt with wide eyes and a slack jaw. Out front, voices call back and forth to one another – some neighborly greeting and affable conversation – but Joel doesn’t hear. Deafened to anything but the sound of your sighs and his own blood hammering through his ears.
It’s a little rushed, a tad rough, the way he presses his lips back to yours. The way his beard grazes against your most sensitive spot, and the gasp he swears he hears lift from your tongue.
But fuck, he’s missed this, the way he always does – without knowing, without actively thinking about it, without knowing it was even at home waiting for him. If his mind weren’t on an entirely different planet right now, he’d curse that goddamn chain link for holding him up, for keeping him away longer than thirty seconds from the sweet little angel resting in his bed, and the sweet little pussy between her legs.
He parts your thighs wider, tongue dipping lower and deeper as he laps at your core, almost fucking panting against it.
You squirm lazily beneath him, shoulders tensing and untensing, a half-limp wrist lifting to pet his hair and an attempt at his name between your lips. Joel, you whimper, thick with sleep and something more dangerous.
I know, baby, he’s telling you, I know, and his tongue slips inside again. His hips grind into the mattress, cock an agonizing stiff against the sturdy edge. He can feel the wet in his boxers, the precome sticking to the inside of the cotton.
Fuck, he wants to be inside you so badly, so desperately.
Another gasp sputters across your lips, cut short in your throat when his teeth bump against your clit.
Too hungry, too brash, he thinks. You’re too soft, too open for him to let it go to waste. Not like this.
He pulls back, a filthy thread of arousal and saliva between his open lips and yours, and places a sodden kiss to the inside of your thigh.
But you whine, you poor little thing – your head twisting to the other side, a second hand now blindly surfing across his shoulder, past the brush of his beard and sifting through his still-chilly hair. The loss of attention to your pussy aching between your legs; your hips lifting weakly to meet the scratch of his chin again.
And that same sound – that same Jo-oel – a sound like song, like saccharine dripping over his shoulders.
So, he lifts a hand – two middle fingers coming together to push open your cunt, instantly sliding in knuckle-deep. Sucked in by the wet mess left behind by his lips, stretching you out with slow, round movements.
You’re slowly stirring, blossoming from your sleep and turning slowly back into this world. The cold edges seeping in, the warm flush of pleasure sharpening at their meeting. He’d do anything, he thinks, to keep you here; keep you teetering on the edge, tangled up between your world and his.
J– oh, fu-uck, you whine, and he can tell you’re still blinkered by sleep. But you grind on him again – a long, languid movement which seems to spatter out at its end when the coarse hair of his beard catches against your clit.
The breath stops in your throat, punching out in a shuddered moan. Joel could come just from the sound of it.
You gonna give me one, baby girl? he pleads, forearms clamping down on the underside of your thighs. Desperate – desperate to feel you, hear you, taste you as you come undone. Just one.
You’re writhing around beneath him, as needy as he is. A winding which matches his, coiling at the bottom of your stomach; a feeling which pulls at the corners of your lips and shocks them into a smutty, half-conscious smile. Your eyes roll back, fluttering open and then snapping shut when the light floods in.
There, you say, clearest so far, movements the strongest he’s felt. Your fingers root in his hair, rough over his scalp. Keep – keep doin’ that.
Joel smiles against your mound; a cocky thing, emboldened by the sound of that little Texan twang, the curl of an accent which doesn’t belong to you. Rather, a result of your years spent with him, watching the way his mouth shapes the words, learning the low swing and swirling melody of his tongue.
As if he’s as alive within you as he is within himself; every little thing Joel knows is him, injected into your bloodstream – his dry wit, his blunt honesty, his thick fingers and his insatiable tongue.
He slips in a third, flicking them perfectly inside of you. Beckoning your release; tongue sitting in wait, a resting point for you to grind your clit against.
And he wants it as much as you do: wants to feel the clamping of your body around him, wants to taste the flood of your orgasm as it shocks through every bone in your body.
Wants to pull three soaked, pruned fingers from your pussy and slip them over your tongue, letting you clasp your fingers around his wrist; watching the half-dozing flutter of your eyelashes as you suckle on them and make those pretty little sounds for him.
Your hand knots tighter in his hair, pelvis circling steady against his suckling lips. He can smell it on you: smell the need seeping from your pores. The sleep spilling from the corners of your mouth, the happy whimpers and quiet cries for more, more, Joel, more.
And – Shit, he breathes against you, feeling a sudden rush of electricity he knows all too well between his hips. Not now, not now not before he’s been inside – Shit, baby, gotta let me go.
You whine in refusal – a petulant sound, all stubborn and greedy. ‘m so close, I –
Pretty bird, he groans, lifting his jaw. He places a messy kiss to the crease between your core and your thigh, wrist stammering with his sudden movements. You gotta – you gotta let go, you’re gonna make me come –
You’re echoing him, mumbling the words gonna, gonna come – fuck, Joel, ‘m gonna –
Shit.
Not – Fuck – not right n– Christ, baby girl, you’re gonna – you’re –
Your walls spasm, clamping and relaxing, squeezing around his huge fingers. But it’s not that – it’s not the gush of warm fluid which seeps from between your legs, coating his knuckles and dripping into his palm.
It’s not the arch of your back, the way your breasts lift to the ceiling and his shirt slips below one nipple. Not the way your head rolls back against the mattress, a broken moan tearing in shards from your throat.
No.
It’s the way your hands leave his hair in an instant, and grip around the leather on your thigh. Skin stretching thin over your knuckles, thumbs between the strap and your sticky skin; hips still riding out your high as you ground yourself, holding onto his holster.
And it makes Joel come. Hard.
Harder than he knew possible, grinding against a mattress and the inside of his fucking jeans.
He falls forward, breathing a guttural moan into the soft swell of your stomach below your navel, fingers hooking into the baggy shirt around your arms.
Shitshitshit, he pants, feeling the warm ejaculate spurt from his cock and all over the inside of his boxers. Oh, fuck, baby. Fuck me.
His hips shudder a few more times, pressing hard into the edge of the mattress before he’s coming down, slowing to a stop – still a leaden weight on your stomach. His cock almost painful, overstimulated and oversensitive.
But then – something gently tittering. A bird singing, cooing above his head. The ground beneath his temple shakes, tremors with laughter. The dust twinkles in the sunlight, now brighter, golden, streaming through the window.
You’re awake.
Joel drags his gaze upwards, bleary and glazed with sex, and catches your eye.
Feel good? you ask, sifting hair away from his damp forehead. When was the last time that happened? Fourteen?
I don’t wanna talk about it, he mumbles into your belly.
Your chest jumps, a laugh which echoes into Joel’s ear. Tastes that good, huh?
It takes a mighty effort for him to push up on his palms, slowly crawling up the length of your body until his elbows plant firm into the mattress either side of your head. He groans as he lowers his lips, parting them to let you slip your tongue inside.
The kiss is slow, tender. Your bodies melding together, teeth clacking and jaws moving in sync. A sharp taste, sweet with a singe of bitterness to it. Perfect, you think, smirking against Joel’s cool lips.
He pulls away, lips tickling the tip of your nose deliberately.
With a giggle, you push on his chest. You should shower. You smell like patrol.
Joel cocks an eyebrow. You comin’ in with me?
Nope. I got even more laundry to do now, old man.
He entertains the quip with a subtle smile, a thing which softens the creases on his face and lights a twinkle in his eyes. Quietly, genuinely, in a way which makes your heart ache a little, he whispers, Sorry I was workin’, pretty bird.
You shrug. ‘s okay. You made up for it. And – I found your holster. You lift your knee, letting the buckle shine in the sunlight.
You did that, Joel agrees, nodding and glancing down at the thing. He hooks a finger around the strap, giving it a little shake. Maybe I oughta lose it more often.
Hm, you shrug, or I can just keep it safe for ya. Looks good, don’t it?
He feigns a disappointed smile, a resigned sigh before he looks back up.
Better ‘n when I wear it, he admits, and his lips crash down to yours again.
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miguelhugger2099 · 2 months
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Punk!Miguel who’s proud of his tattoos. At least most of them. He has some professionally done and others were stick and pokes from when him and Gabriel were younger.
Punk!Miguel who watches you with a smile when you touch up and down his arm. He hides the shivers down his spine when your perfectly manicured pink and green nails rake across the art decorated on him.
“What’s this one?” You poke at a terrible done smiley face, it was a little blobbed but barely noticeable with the much nicer ones done around it.
“One of the first tries my brother did on me when he was starting out.”
“And you kept it?” You tilt your head with a scrunch of your nose. Miguel laughs.
“Sentimental value.”
You scoff. “No way.”
“Yeah, way.” He takes your hands and pulls you closer, lugging you forward onto his lap where you belonged. Getting yourself comfortable you placed your hands on his chest.
“Are you just gonna have them on your arms?” You ask, tugging down his shirt for a peek at any new ones. Miguel smirks and stops your peeking by tsking and shaking his head—a knowing look on his face.
“Course not but tattoos cost money, babe.”
“You should get one of me.” You pout your lips, crossing your arms that makes you seem snobbish.
“What? Like get one of your face?” He laughs and leans back on his hands.
“No! Like—I dunno! Something sentimental about…me?” You look away, feeling the prickling embarrassment crawling up your neck. “Never mind!”
“Oh, so you want to be on my body, huh?” He teases, taking your hand and sliding it under his tank top to feel his warm stomach, faint dips of abs.
“You know what I mean!” You whine, feeling frozen with him holding your hand in place. He can’t help but find you adorable. Letting go of your hand to come around your waist as he leans up again, one hand coming down to cup your ass. He swallows your squeak with a kiss, unable to stop himself from biting into your sweetness.
Punk!Miguel who—even if he teased you about it—actually adored the idea of having a tattoo of you on him.
Punk!Miguel who thought day and night of what could represent you. Flowers he felt was done often, your name was cute but basic and anything else could very well be mistaken for something else. He wanted something that was obviously you.
Punk!Miguel who was rearranging his room again, bustling through various boxes for some spring cleaning.
Punk!Miguel who found his box of memories from when you two first began dating. It had been filled with all your gifts and letters you’d given him—every last piece saved securely in the corner of his room.
He smiles as he opens the box up again. Some pieces of papers falling out and the little broken keychain you got to match with him until it snapped when he accidentally sat on it.
He sits at his desk, flipping through the pages and tiny plushies you’ve given him. His heart swelling at the swirls in your writing with blue ink—the bunny pen you always wrote with.
The smile on his face continues as he reads through your words of love for him—words that you often found too difficult to say. He slams his forehead on the desk, blush coating his cheeks and ears while he groans loudly.
Each letter you’d given him ended with a print of your kiss mark at the very bottom. Some of it was a matte red, others was a faint glitter stain, but most of it was a soft pinkish color. The kind that was glossy and gave you just enough color that it looked tinted and natural.
His finger grazes the mark, an idea popping in his head.
Punk!Miguel who goes to a tattoo shop he was very well acquainted with, with an artist he knew extra well.
He slams his arm on the counter where a man was behind it, sucking on a lollipop and doodling in his sketchbook. The guy raises an annoyed brow.
“Do you have any space open for a walk-in client?” Miguel asks with a smirk.
“I don’t have space for annoying ones.” He sighs and puts his drawing pad away.
“I have money this time, Gabri. Plus, family discount.”
Punk!Miguel who is both afraid and excited to show you what he’s done to himself. He feels his heart hammering while he preps himself to show you. He’d done the aftercare as precisely as possible, taking extra care of it because this was no ordinary tattoo.
Punk!Miguel that lets you take off his shirt when he tells you he’s gotten a tattoo of you.
Punk!Miguel who smiles with amusement when you gasp and hit his arm that you were joking before! That tattooing is a permanent thing! He tells you that he knows.
His heart stills when you eyes land on his chest. On his left side, where his heart would be was your kiss mark. Just like the ones you left on the letters you used to give him.
You touch your lips subconsciously, your other set of fingers hovering over his lifted skin. You look up for permission and he nods, brining himself closer.
You marvel at the piece of work that replicated your lips. “Oh, Miguel…” You sigh, blinking back tears.
“Are you getting emotional?”
“No!”
He brings you to his chest in a tight hug, your hand still resting beside your kiss mark now permanently etched on his person—a permanent reminder that he is yours and that he loves you.
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beastaarz · 9 months
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white tee. sasuke uchiha.
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˖  ࣪  ⭒ ◞ warning ━━━ fem!reader, boyfriend!sasuke, mating press, choking, dacryphilia, cream pie, breeding, lots of dirty talk cause why not, sasukes mouth is filthy, praising, sub!reader, pleasure!dom, overstimulation, clit rubbing, face grabbing, slight manhandling, pet names < pretty, baby, princess >, black coded, lowercase intended.
# . summary : he loves fucking you on the couch,
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"unh, fuckkk." your breathy whines filled the air with your glossy, plump lips parted slightly, pretty ( e/c ) eyes averting hesitantly to the small pudge evident on your stomach. the swift, and deep thrusts of his thick tip against your gummy cervix has the both of you panting softly, his now rosy cheeks becoming more evident.
"sasuke." you slur once again, completely drunk off of his cock and the way he would roll his hips with your own. tears well up slowly in your eyes from the pressure, meaty legs folded up over your shoulders as he bullied his cock into your creamy cunt. "'s too deep, feel it in my tummy."
"hm? you feel me in there?" he asked placing his hands on the print in your stomach, voice calm and monotone as ever, with a small drop of breathiness from his poor attempts to try & not bottom out while he was deep inside of you. it was just so wet and tight, and so fucking warm. at this rate, you were going to drive him crazy.
you responded with a eager nod, only getting a cocky and smug smirk from the onyx haired boy, along with his large hand wrapped tightly around your neck, causing you to choke out a broken moan, though it sounded much like a wheeze from the tightness. a creamy ring coated his thick cock, watching himself disappear into your soppy hole feeling the blissful way your leaking cunt clenched around him.
"look how good you’re taking me." he grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at the way he rammed his throbbing cock into you.
you've already came multiple times on him, making a huge mess on his white tee shirt as he rammed and bullied his cock into your pussy. the wet, and downright nasty sound of skin clapping filling his ringing ears, feeling the way your ass smacked against his abdomen harshly, balls slapping against your ass. boobs jumping from the impact, though he kept the comforter steady from the steel grip he had around your bruised neck.
"mm shit, princess. so fucking tight around me. look at 'er." he rubbed his free lankly fingers over your swollen bud as you drooled slightly in the corner of your plump lips, tongue freely out and eyes crossed dumbly. "creaming all over my dick like this. wanna fill her up." he almost groaned when you began fucking him back, your fingers clawing into the couch he was fucking you into. he watched the way your plush thighs jiggled as he slammed his hips into your own, also catching the way your arms and knees grew weak from holding them up. he didn’t care though. he wanted to use you, and he was going to do exactly that.
he shoved two fingers into your mouth, feeling the way you immediately wrapped your wet tongue around them, sucking and slurping causing a grin to grow on his face. "good girl." his words making you feel tingly.
he felt his balls grown heavy and tight, sinking his pearly whites into his pink bottom lip as he stared down at you, onyx eyes lidded and hazy. shoulder length hair falling in his face as he abused your cunt even more, letting his spit drop onto your clit as he rubbed and played with it. your pussy squelched all around him, his thick cock coated in your slick making wet noises. "mhm hear that baby? that's all you. so wet. so pretty." only thing these words did was arouse you even more, making it easier to slip inside of you.
"hng . . . keep fuckin' my dick back like this. jus' like that, baby. 's all yours. make it wetter." he pushed your legs further over your shoulders with his free hand, causing you to scream, tears rolling down your face whilst he continued to choke you with the other. he loved hearing your loud cries for him, all it did was stroke his massive ego. you sobbed as he pounded mercilessly into you, pussy swollen and sore.
"oooohh, yesss." you mewled feeling the overstimulation he was putting you through, as you let him abuse and use your cunt, feeling your stomach tighten into a knot for the 10th time already. you felt the way his hips began to stutter against yours. you can tell he was about to cum. right inside of you. "ooh shit, g'na cummm!" you chanted continuously as you felt a huge wave of pleasure hit you like a brick as your ass clapped against his pelvis, the squelchy sounds of your dripping cunt filling your ears and dropping onto the floor.
his onyx eyes glared into your own, his jaw clenching as his thrusts grew sloppy, but his pace never faltering. "me too, baby. gonna let me come inside?" he asked, though he already knew the answer as you brokenly whispered out sweet nothings as you nodded eagerly. "let it all out, pretty." is what you heard before you released your climax, feeling a huge wave of white ecstasy fall over your frame, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you clawed your way into your fluffy couch. you heard a loud groan emerge from him before the feeling of your cunt getting filled up with his kids filled your body.
the both of you panted softly as he fucked his seed into you, making sure none of it spills out. he spilled everything inside of you, watching as yours and his juices leak into the corners of your clit. he closed his eyes, and kissing all your face.
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all rights reserved / © beastaarz.
ttm, wattpad / @ beastaarz.
an : first blog. hope ya liked :)
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virgincels · 4 months
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SCHADENFREUDE !
ft. leon s. kennedy x fem!reader
tags. p in v, kidnapper/victim relationship, stockholm syndrome, he puts u in the trunk of his car :3, sorta painal, squirting, slapping/hitting a lot.. of it, not non-con or dub-con but he keeps calling it that idk, painful sex, suicide mention cuz it’s leonnnn, sadism
note. haiii a follow up to rotten luck title has nothing to do w the fic i think :3 his character changes like every 5 mins im sorry .. readers character changed a lot too omg just blame it on stockholm! umm sorry for any mistakes please ignore them :3 rbs and feedback so appreciated :3
rotten luck
tumblr removes fics that use, for example, tw non-con and any nsfw tags in general from the tags. for this reason, as i’d like my fic to appear in the tags, please understand that this fic contains dark content under the cut. reading this comes at your own risk.
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“What’re you doing?” With a foot in the door, Leon spots you hunched over the mantlepiece.
You jump like you do when he makes a noise over thirty decibels. Luckily, you’re housebroken now, just about, so there’s no piss. Or tears. He has no desire to deal with tears. Or piss or any fluid for that matter. Leon has bad days, and then he has worse days, then there are awful days– It’s only a bad day, but that doesn’t mean he wants to spend his time forcing your head into a puddle of your own piss. Fundamentally, piss is not his concern, he’s potty-trained and has been for a good thirty-four years. He’d like to think a good forty-three years, but he was a criminal bedwetter up until the ripe age of twelve. Foster system does that to you. You make the piss Leon’s concern when you do it on his floor–
“What’re you doing?” Leon asks once more when he wrenches himself away from his piss tangent. He decides to let you off for not answering the first time ‘cause he’s generous like that. Quietly, as everything you do is scarce and ghostlike, you point at the printed photos on his mantle with great interest. There’s three because Leon only really gives a shit about three people. They shouldn’t be out in the open like that. Leon doesn’t remember leaving them out, so he’d like to blame you, but maybe this is a sign of early-onset dementia.
“Who’s she?” You nod to Ashley first, pressed to his side so tightly, so lovingly, so sure that he loves her bombardment. Her affection, whatever it is that she insists it is. He thinks back to tearing her from the clutches of emaciated beings and wonders how he can stand here so normally. As if nothing ever happened. Ashley’s name is the one in the back of his throat, shattered and bloody like glass in a domestic dispute. Then again, he is face to face with his kidnapping victim and all. So it’s not very normal when he looks at the bigger picture. Far from normal, abnormal at the very least. Fucking deranged might be the right term.
“My ex,” Leon lies to see the look of disdain that crosses your face, the unpleasant curl of your lips that irons out when he pets your head. Whether it be for him or Ashley, he wouldn’t like to know. “Joking, baby, I saved her,” Leon settles on saved because there is no other way to explain it, and because he would love for you to know that they’re not his other kidnapping victims and that you’re his one and only kidnappee and he might be impulsive, but he’s not stupid enough to take pictures of and with kidnapped girls. Well, Ashley was a kidnapped girl, not his kidnapped girl, however.
Leon is very feminist, rescuing slender-ankled maidens is his speciality, you’re just an outlier. “I saved her,” he says when you nod at Manuela next, and then for Sherry, he pauses, “I saved her.” Sherry’s face goads him into cowardice, blowing his brains out is difficult when she’s sitting on his shoulder at all times like a Vatican cherub, covalently bonded to his heart or his soul. Whichever matters after you die. “You want a picture too, baby? Autograph?” He kisses your kidnapped little fingers with the guilt of a man who has been pointlessly guilty all his life - now literally guilty by CJS standards for the four months you’ve been captive.
You smile at him, and consequently his drops. “I’m good,” you say, smiling your real smile. It upsets him. “I’ve got the real thing.” When you talk too much he remembers that you’re not a toy or a plaything or anything of the sort. That you’re a real girl.
Sometimes Leon has these moments of startling clarity. You kidnapped a girl ‘cause mommy didn’t love you enough, but daddy hit you hard enough to knock the functioning parts of your brain out of place. You kidnapped a girl ‘cause you got touched back in boot camp, ‘cause you’ve seen a couple hundred people die.
At this point, he simply can’t move on, but he can give up. Every night the gun under his pillow digs into the hollows of his skull. It’s just that Leon can’t leave you, his lucky little girl, he feels responsible for the state you’re in. Stockholm and all. That wasn’t his intention, he’d rather you be dead out of sheer terror, your frail little heart would give out mid Leon’s fucked up chimaera that is part nasty, hot sex and part brutal beating and the most he would have to do is bury your bones in his backyard.
Pretend you never existed. Your name fades into obscurity like every other name does. Your face is just another face. And no one truly cares in the end. America’s love is limited, its affections will go elsewhere, to a prettier kidnapped girl in California or a younger one in Maine. The police will pass you off as a runaway soon enough, and no one would ever have to mourn a bodiless casket. What a mess. Leon didn’t mean to be so charming, didn’t mean to make you fall for him, he didn’t know girls these days were so into getting raped on the daily. Now he’s facing the repercussions of his sex appeal. God forbid he exists in sexy peace.
You gotta make everything his problem, don’t you? Lucky little thing. Leon wonders if you’ve ever had to do anything for yourself. Wonders, ponders, thinks, but he won’t pry. ‘Cause it makes him feel, like, really fucking sucky. That he plucked you out of your perfect little life ‘cause his life is the shittiest little life in this piece of shit world.
He struggles to even utter your name– Your name, god, he bets it was picked out so delicately, so carefully– And that pisses Leon off ‘cause his dad named Leon after his favourite hooker, remove the A from Leona and there you have it! Italian enough for his ma too, hit a perfect sweet spot. Now he’s upset, the perennial guilt has wilted and he’s just fucking exasperated by you. By your luck. By your shamelessness. What twisted little bitch sits there and gloats about having the real thing in reference to her kidnapper. In actuality, it’s Leon that has the real thing.
Leon knocks you down like you’re made of styrofoam. That little yelp never gets old. You see, he’s been struck by this awful migraine and he wants you to feel the same. You should ache like he does, but you don’t ‘cause you’re young and healthy and he makes you go to bed at an appropriate time ‘cause it’s his duty as your kidnapper to make sure you don’t die out of neglect - death via beating is fine and understandable.
You sit at his feet so sweetly, a stray dog that’s wandered into the shrine of a lonely god, curling up at the foot of a wooden statuette to seek some form of solace. Unfortunately for you, Leon is no god, just a normal man with a heart and a soul and a dick that thinks for itself. He does what any man with a dumb dick would do - grabs you by the ankle and lugs you towards the bedroom like a deer carcass. It’s slightly comical, and he knows that ‘cause he hears you giggle a little.
“Rape is nothin’ to laugh about, sweetheart,” Leon says ‘cause that’s the plan, he drops you down on the bed with a thunk. Is it even rape when the other party, a very much kidnapped party, is enjoying it? Truly, you suck the joy out of his life.
“Sorry, Leon,” you go slack and stupid the second he gropes your tit, he’s not one for foreplay, it bores him most days. He’ll eat your pussy ‘cause he likes the taste, but he’s old and his cock is on its last legs and the moment his shit jumps to life it’s best to get it in ASAP.
“It’s okay, baby,” Leon lifts the hem of your shirt, “I know you’re really fuckin’ stupid, so don’t worry ‘bout it, yeah?” God, he’s way too nice. He pulls the shirt over your head and you’re left bare.
“Thank you, Leon,” You’re well-mannered, he’ll give you that, polite little thing, it's terribly endearing, has the walls of his gristly heart caving in.
“You’re very welcome, baby,” he hums, unzipping his jeans to get his dick out before it ultimately droops. Your cunt is sopping, takes to his fingers easily, he curls them upwards to hear those slick clicks. “Spread ‘em.” Leon taps your thigh, and you bend your knees outwards, a foot flat on the bed. It’s nice that you’re wet for him and all, does wonders for his ego, but loose holes are no fun.
“Not there,” you’re so cute when you whine, would look so cute stuffed in the trunk of his car, god. He’d even put a pillow between your thighs to give that cunt some friction. Keep you entertained while he drives aimlessly.
“Baby, you should know better,” Leon chides, spreads your ass and eyes up your tighter hole. “Didn’t ask you, did I?”
“Nuh-uh, Leon.” Comes your automated response.
“What did I tell you?”
“Don’t speak unless spoken to,” you relay the words like you’re reading from a rulebook.
Creepy. Makes him shudder. Maybe Leon did Stockholm you purposefully, he didn’t expect you to respond so well, he was just saying shit. Like, shit that comes out of his mouth when he’s horny, and your sick little brain took his word as law. So, like, that’s your fault and you’re making it his problem. ‘Cause everyone loves to make everything Leon’s problem.
“God, you’re such a clever girl, baby,” he coos because he is so kind and gracious, giving out praise left and right. The tip of Leon’s cock is sticky, drags it through the seam of your cunt to part your folds, kisses your clit with the fat head. There’s a slight gape to your puckered hole when he grabs your ass cheek to open you up. Leon’s forced his way in countless times before, it’s no different this time. With a cock lubed by precum and your drippy cunt, he pushes into your asshole mercilessly.
“That’s a cute face, sweetheart, you gonna do that for me again?” Leon asks, taking a handful of tit as he admires the pain washing over your face— The divot between your brows that he smooths over with his thumb, a quivering bottom lip, eyes screwed shut ‘cause you’re trying to take his fat cock like a good girl should. You make it so easy to hurt you.
“Leon,” you whimper when he bottoms out. His cock kicks inside you, he pulls out to be mean, carves out space and your hole flutters ‘cause it’s so empty— Leon forces his way back in, till the ring of muscle swallows up the base of his cock, and his balls smack wetly against the fat of your ass. Two fingers find their way into your sloppy pussy once more, he feels the ridges of his cock through the spongy, thin walls of your cunt, and you’re liking it too much, fucking him back far too enthusiastically when his thumb presses down on your pulsing clit.
“You’re gonna cum like this, sweetheart,” Leon tells you matter-of-factly, removes his fingers with a pop! and wipes the milky cream dribbling down his wrist on your tummy. “Can you do that for me?”
“No, Leon, I can’t,” you shake your head, trembling fingers wrapping around his wrist to guide him back to your puffy clit.
“Yes you can, baby, you’re gonna do it for me aren’t you?” He tuts, breaking free from your sorry excuse of a grip to lay a firm smack on your jaw. It sends your head to the right, hears your neck crack, he’s sure. “We don’t use words like ‘no’ do we?”
“No…”
Aw, that was a trick question— He gives you another smack to force your head to the left. A little brain damage goes a long way. Keeps you obedient. When you get over the dizziness and face him head-on, you try to blink away the tears to no avail, they roll down your cheeks in pearlescent blobs. Clicker training is unneeded when you have a firm hand. It’s worked so well, any mention of your life outside of the time spent in his home and he’s punching your lights out, now you talk to Leon about Leon, and you think of Leon, and you fuck Leon and you love him– Jesus, okay, he did Stockholm you real fucking bad. No wonder you’re so weird.
Leon rabbits into you, short and shallow thrusts ‘cause it’s harder for you to breathe that way with his cock constantly pushing and jabbing and— Fuck, he’s practically reshaping your insides at such a brutal pace.
“I knew you could do it,” Leon snickers, presses hard on your abdomen to help you cum— And you’re so cute when you do, writhing and lifting your hips up and just looking a little stupid. There’s a stuttered breath, then you’re squirting in sharp bursts, from his cock in your ass alone. “There we go— You did it, baby, did so well—“ He is so fucking sweet to you, talking you through your high and shit. “You love getting your ass fucked don’t you?”
When you don’t respond, too busy trying to recover from an orgasm that’s left you boneless, Leon knocks some sense into you. “I do,” you gasp, teeth clattering like they always do when he hits you. “I do, Leon, I do, I love it— Love you.”
Holy shit. He hates it. That’s what drives him over the edge, that’s what makes him fuck his load into your ass till it’s dripping back down his shaft, that’s what gets his legs all shaky? It sickens him.
“Do you love me, Leon? I love you so much, Leon,” you mumble to him feverishly when he dips low to rest his forehead on yours, a hand on your cheek.
“You’re growing on me, baby,” Leon says, kissing the spot on your cheek he hit less than a minute ago. “Go clean yourself up.” He checks his watch while you limp off to the en-suite. “I’m headin’ out soon.”
“What?” You poke your head past the door frame, genuinely distraught at this revelation. “But you just got home, Leon, I was so bored— Can I come with you?”
“Are you dumb, baby?” Leon blinks at you, and he knows the answer is yes already.
“I’ll just miss you, like, lots ‘n lots.” You’re padding towards him, seating yourself on his lap. He puts his hands on your hips to draw you in, you breathe in his scent. It can’t be pleasant, but you get something out of it. “I want to come with you, please. I won’t run away, Leon, I like it with you.”
“I know you won’t run away,” he hums, squeezing your hips. “What would you do without me? You’d just miss me, baby.”
“And I’m gonna miss you when you go now, Leon.” Your arms loop around his neck. This is fucking disgusting. You’re not his girlfriend, but his literal kidnapping victim and he’s all loved up, letting you stroke his hair and kiss his neck— Fuck, he hates it, hates that he likes you so damn much.
It’s not like he could get away with it. Claire’s got, like, a database in her head for all the fucking women in the world. One look at your face and she’ll know. And how the fuck are you meant to play that off? Bringing a missing girl as your date for the night.
“You can come with me,” he agrees, just not in the girlfriend way, but in the appropriate kidnapped girl way. With a gag in your mouth and your hands behind your back, tucked into his trunk like a cute, fleshy suitcase.
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Zip ties are best, rope comes second, and Leon’s tie is probably not on the list of best kidnapping tools. He just wasn’t prepared to take you with him. He’s fairly new to the whole kidnapper thing, it’s quite exhausting.
The sun sets early these days, and it’s not like Leon lives in a crowded area. Only sign of life on the street is him. And you. Panties stuffed in your mouth as a makeshift gag, wrists tied together with the tie Hunnigan got him for Christmas. You could spit the panties out at any minute, but you don’t. You could break free from the shitty knot he’s tied, but you don’t. Leon must be good at this manipulation thing ‘cause you’re so damn docile, letting him lay you down like a corpse, move you around like one.
“All good?” Leon asks, tilts his head to the side as you stare up at him with glassy eyes. Not all good. You’re terrified. He can tell. You still nod though. “Good.” He kisses your head, then shuts you in.
Leon is already a bit of a nervous driver. His windows are blacked out at least. He always feels like he’s doing something wrong. Like there’s drugs planted in his glove compartment, or he’s got blood money on the backseat, or a cute girl in the trunk— Which he does, but he doesn’t usually have a cute girl tied up in the trunk. He usually does get a ticket or two though, able to charm his way out of it, flash his ID.
There isn't a single noise from you, not even a thump, and it worries him. Leon considers pulling over, but he drives on white-knuckled and shaky. Hopes you haven’t rolled out without him noticing. Been flattened by a truck. Jesus Christ, he thought something about this would be gratifying, but his nerves have spiked and unlocked a new level of anxiety. He should hand himself in right now– Obviously, he doesn’t do that, and he parks up outside Claire’s apartment instead, and he is going to check on you, he is, he was–
“Oh, hey you!” Sherry takes him by surprise, her hand is small in his, but it’s calloused. Doesn’t feel like it did when he held it the first time. Even smaller and bloodied. When she smiles at him, soft wrinkles form. “You’re on time,” she comments, and he wants to die because there is a girl in his trunk.
“Right on, kiddo!” He says to Sherry who is thirty-seven and married. Leon would like to think he does well in high-pressure situations, he does do well in high-pressure situations. That’s a fact. He’s great in end-of-the-world-type scenarios, great at saving America from impending doom, he could do it with his eyes closed– Facing the closest thing you have to family not as yourself, but as a creepy, old rapist is insanely difficult and he would prefer to never do it again. However, he is exactly that, plus a kidnapper, so Leon will continue to do it for the rest of his days.
“Are you okay, Leon?” The corners of her lips are downturned– She knows, oh god, she knows, and she’s never going to look at you the same, and she’ll hate you for the rest of her life– “You’re not sick, are you? I heard there was a bug going around, Jake got sick today that’s why he couldn’t come.” Fuck Jake. Leon dislikes him. Her hair is longer, long enough to fall over her shoulders. He’d tell her to cut it, in their line of work it’s a risk, but she looks how she used to look, and Leon can’t say anything to her.
“No, I’m just, I’m cold, it’s cold, right? It’s cold out here, let’s go inside– Claire’s waiting,” he says very smoothly, totally without a single fumble.
“What is up with you?” Claire scans his guilty face when she opens the door, scans it like a robot, not like an observant human. She steps aside to let Sherry in, kissing the shorter girl’s cheek, and then she blocks Leon from entering. “My pipes are bust, Leon.”
“Okay? Can’t help you with that, babe.” Leon is not a fucking plumber. Doesn’t look like one in the slightest. He’s handsome like a washed-up actor, he knows that much is true, does not fit the bill for a plumber.
“You look like you need to shit really bad.”
“God, I don’t, I’m just fuckin’ cold.” Leon shows her his shaky hands as proof. It’s not proof ‘cause these are kidnapper shakes.
Claire stares at him. Ineffable. Unflappable. She scares the shit out of him, might really end up on her busted toilet if she scrutinises him to this degree all night. “You sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah, I’m good, I’m great– I’m cold, I’m fine,” he says normally because he is a normal man with a heart and soul and dick and balls and credit. All the shit normal guys have. And a girl in the trunk, he’s got that too. The cast-iron doubt in Claire’s eyes has Leon on edge for the rest of the night. It never dissipates. Or she’s just looked that way her whole life and Leon’s overthinking it.
“Nah, Leon hates those, don’t you?” Sherry nudges his shoulder.
“Huh?” Leon says intelligently, he’s painfully aware of his blundering efforts at socialising. Painfully aware of you. In his trunk. Cold, scared, and wet ‘cause you’re fucked up. He hates a lot of things like assless chaps and seven-eleven beer and swans. He drinks seven-eleven beer anyway. Does not wear assless chaps though. And he’d prefer to keep it that way. Swans piss him off ‘cause they're beautiful and violent and beautiful things should be passive like you are. Beautiful things were put on this earth to be gawked at. Beautiful things belong tied up in his car.
“Parrots,” she smiles at him again and he’s hit by a wave of nausea.
“What about ‘em?”
“Me and Jake want to get a pet, I’ve always wanted a parrot, you promised to get me one when I was a kid,” Sherry says, it’s not even to guilt trip him, just factual, but Leon feels like the shittiest guy alive, he’s very good at feeling bad.
“I do hate them,” Leon confirms, “They talk too much.” Pets are pets. They roll over, show off their bellies, wag their tails, they shouldn't speak.
“That’s what I like about them!”
Leon gets a headache when you speak for even a minute, that’s why he couldn't deal with a parrot. Or any pet other than his lucky girl ‘cause at least she’s smart enough to know when to shut up.
“It’s not like they talk a lot.” Claire fills her wine glass for the nth time. “They speak when spoken too,” she says while blinking at Leon so directly he thinks she might’ve put cameras in his house to see if he’s being as feminist as he claims he is. “And you can teach them names, I think it’s cute.”
“We took care of a puppy last year, a friend’s one, but Jake doesn’t like dogs at all. Poor thing, she got car sick when we took her out, she was in the back on her own, and she must’ve been so scared-”
A dog in the back of a car all on her own. God, doesn’t that sound familiar? Did you get car sick? Should he have checked up on you? Fuck, you might’ve choked to death on your own car sickness by now. The clock ticks and Leon checks his watch about ten times within five minutes. He can’t leave first. He never leaves first– Oh, fuck, but what if you’re fucking dead? He prays you aren’t. He would appreciate it if you were alive.
“I don’t… I don’t feel great,” Leon says not convincingly when he stands up, then he bends to kiss Sherry on the head. “I love you, sweetheart, we’ll catch up next time, alright?” And he doesn’t give either of them a chance to respond properly. Collecting his keys from the table, his jacket, his gun.
Leon, don’t you want to finish– Leon, you’re leaving– Call me when you get back– I’ll miss you, Leon– Text me back– Should you be driving–
He would love to reassure Sherry, tell her that he’ll miss her so much he could die and that he promises to text Claire back on time, and that he’s perfectly capable when it comes to drunk driving. but he’s pretty sure he’s got a missing dead girl in his trunk. Leon wonders if they can see him clearly from Claire’s fifth-story window. They don’t care about what he’s doing, but the probability that they might be able to see what he’s doing, acting all shady, is scary. The street lights flicker, and when he opens the hatch, he’s bathed in the glow of your halo. Hail fucking Mary and Joseph and Jesus. You’re there, eyes frantic, and very alive, panties still stuffed in your mouth. Could’ve spat those out by now, but you’re a good girl.
“Fuck,” Leon sighs, he smiles like he loves you. “Hi, baby, did you have fun?” He hunches over to get a better look at you, you’re in the position he left you in, on your side, balled up, almost foetal. He slaps your tit, pinches your cheek, pokes your ass like he’s giving you a physical. You shake your head. “No?” Leon pouts at you, then he leaves you in the dark by slamming the lid. The thrill has sorta settled in, or he’s just tipsy, ‘cause he’s giddy about it, about having you back there. Highways are fairly empty at this time, and so now that he’s boosted by you not being dead and cognac, Leon parks up on the side of the road. Opens up his trunk, again, it’s the most he’s ever used it, shit is gonna fall off its hinges.
“You saved me,” you say when he takes your spit-soaked panties out of your mouth. “You found me, sir, I was so scared, I-I thought I was going to die in here.”
Leon’s confused for a second, then he gets it. You’re roleplaying as… as a kidnapping victim. Which you already are. So it’s like the Droste effect, or holarchy, or more simply a thing within a thing. You’re letting him take on the hero part, which he’s most familiar with, he’s good at being the good guy, that’s why Leon is a pretty crummy kidnapper. “I saved you,” Leon says flatly, he goes with it. “You should suck my dick to say thank you.” He didn’t mean to say that so soon, he was gonna play along for longer, but you made him really fucking hard just then. Teary-eyed, snotty, looking so cute and sweetly kidnapped.
Waiting for your response isn’t his style. Leon had his dick out before you even spoke, he was planning on just stuffing it in your mouth, but you went and made up a little story in your head to get him even harder. He shuffles forward, wipes the tip on your lips, slaps it on your cheek.
“C’mon, open up, baby.” You nose at the underside of his cock, then take him into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks and giving it to him so well, how he likes it, choking once you get to the balls. Leon places a hand on the back of your head, forces you still as he pounds your throat, hearing you gag and heave brings him comfort, ‘cause you're struggling and he loves to make you struggle, loves to make you work for it. You've had it too easy, and now you’ve started liking the sex (read: rape), so Leon’s glad he can hurt you without you getting off on it. “Okay, okay, that’s enough, baby, you can stop that now,” Leon says like he wasn’t skullfucking you into a coma, his cock slips past your lips, strings of saliva beading your chin, your neck, your tits.
The trunk is kinda small, when he puts you on your front, your head rests on the backseats, and your legs dangle over the edge. “Can you untie me, sir?” You ask in a scratchy voice, throat shredded.
Leon ignores you. He’s busy scoffing at how fucking soaked you are, misses the days he had to spit on your cunt to get it wet, when he felt all big like his cock was imposing ‘cause you were so dry he had to force his way in, and you would scream so loud it sliced his skin, and he would groan for that contrapuntal effect ‘cause hurting you is the best thing he’s ever felt. Better than opioids, better than regular sex, better than a scalp massage, better than anything that feels mildly great.
Your cunt swallows his shaft too well, and it is hot to know you’re so far gone now, but would it kill your pussy to show some form of resistance? He knocks his hips forward so hard the car jolts, thrusts all his weight into you, so his cock is doing nothing but harm, breaking your cunt in, going past your cervix, womb-fucking and all that good shit. It doesn’t get further than your cervix for obvious reasons.
‘Cause his dick is not a knife, it’s a dick and it twitches when you clench. He likes having a dick, he likes to fuck with it, likes to stick it in places it shouldn’t be, likes to disfigure and wreck and ruin with it - fly in the ointment is that it’s not immune to stupid, sloppy holes that beg for it. Leon shudders, keeps himself buried to the hilt, rolls his hips forward so the tip jabs the fleshy, firm opening of your cervix in painful grinds.
“Leon,” you wheeze, twisting like you’re getting exorcised, “Leon— Leon, it hurts—“
“I know, baby,” Leon pats your ass, giving a sharp thrust forward to make you sob. “Keep talkin’ to me like that, turns me on.”
“Hurts so bad, hurts, Leon, ‘s gonna– ‘s gonna kill me, Leon– Don’t wanna die, I don’t wanna die, please–”
“Shit,” he laughs breathlessly. That was hot. Girls begging for their lives ‘cause his dick is too good. When you turn to glance at him over your shoulder, his hips stutter. “Fuck, baby– You look fucked.” Like you’re terrified of him. That's how it should be. “Don’t go pushin’ me out,” Leon grunts, words punctuated by strokes that have you reeling in all the worst ways.
“I can’t–” Your head bumps the seats when Leon knocks you in the back of the head. Hard enough to stun you into silence.
“Can’t run from it, can you?” Leon bites down on your shoulder, momentary relief from the cruel drag of his cock inside your sticky cunt, now you can focus on his teeth. How he might tear into you. Eat you up. “Gotta take it for me, baby, ‘cause that’s what you're good for. No brains just got a stupid little cunt.” When he cums, you arch into him, and he fucks into you with all he’s got, till you’re stuffed full of his seed. Something to keep your belly warm for the ride home. Leon should get an award for being this considerate.
“Leon, can I sit in the front?” you sniffle, pathetic and floppy and orgasmless.
He sneers at you. “Do you want me to get caught, sweetheart? You wanna get taken away from me?”
“No, Leon…”
Click!
That was cathartic. Leon’s glad you’ve still got pain receptors, you’re not totally gone, clinging on for dear life, but still afloat. He carries his little body bag to the door. “Want a photo?” Leon sets you down on the ground, you cling to the back of his shirt as he struggles with his jammy lock.
“Oh, yeah!” You light up, “‘Cause you saved me!”
“Yeah, baby.” Leon ushers you inside. “I saved you.” From the boot of his own fucking car.
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neonghostlights · 5 months
Text
Part one, Part two
“Absolutely not,” you snapped out quickly.
Robin relayed the message to Dustin before she nearly dropped the phone.
“Why would you do that?!” She yelled and your heart dropped into your stomach.
“What happened? What did he do?” You asked, rushing to the phone to try to hear what was going on on the other side.
“When she goes after you don’t expect us to save you,” Robin told him before slamming the phone down.
You looked at her expectantly.
“He gave Eddie your number. He’s going to call you at eight o’clock tonight,” she said like she was breaking the news that your dog had run away.
“No,” you shook your head aggressively.
“It’s too late. He’s going to call you tonight.”
“Then I’m not going to answer.”
“What if this is the only way you’ll ever get closure and don’t look at me and tell me you’re over it because we all knows you’re not. It’s been six years and no one has even been able to say his name in front of you until now,” Robin looked at you with pleading eyes, begging you to give him a chance.
You chewed on your lip for a moment, “I don’t know.”
“Why don’t you go home, think about it and when the phone rings tonight then you can decide.”
“How did you get so smart?” You said with a smile for the first time today.
Robin shrugged as she started furiously dialing numbers.
“Who could you possibly be calling now?!” You exclaimed, throwing your hands into the air.
She held a finger up to you, tucking the phone under her chin. “Hold on I gotta tell Steve.”
-
You paced your living room again.
It was 8:02 and you thought that maybe Eddie wasn’t going to call like he had said he would.
It wouldn’t be the first time he let you down.
The phone rang and you jumped, frozen as you stared from where it hung on the wall, like it was a wild animal that was going to crawl off the wall and attack.
It rang once, twice, three times before your feet crossed the carpeted floor and you picked it up.
“Hello?” You said with a shaky breath.
There was the sound of rustling papers on the line and a few muttered words before a woman spoke.
“Hell, my name is Jane and I am with Mr. Munson’s management company,” she said in a chipper tone.
Confusion wracked your body followed by devastation. He was never going to call. Why would he want to talk to you? You had been foolish to get your hopes up again.
“Can I help you?” You didn’t mean to sound like you had an attitude but you were very very pissed.
“I’m calling in regards to the photograph that was printed. I’m sure you have seen it by now as well as the story that was printed. I’m going to cut to the chase since I’m sure you have more important plans for your Friday night besides talking to me but we just wanted to reach out to you to check in and see if any one had reached out to you directly regarding you and Mr. Munsons past relationship,” she droned on like she was reading a script. You wondered if she had called Eddie’s other two exes and you were the last, the least important.
You processed what she was saying, cogs turning in your tired mind.
“Let me get this straight, you’re calling me to make sure I don’t talk to the media about Eddie? You’re worried I’m going to tell everyone how he broke my heart?” You finally bit out.
“As I’m sure you know in the industry and the sake of his career-“
“Fuck off,” you snapped before slamming the phone down.
-
“What did she say?” Eddie said between biting his nails, a nervous habit he had picked up.
Jane sighed and rubbed her temple before tapping her fingers on the glossy table in the conference room.
“I wish you wouldn’t have put me on the spot like that. What happened to you talking to her?” Jane scolded him with a raised brow.
“I got nervous,” Eddie admitted. The plan was for him to talk to you, see how you were doing. But all of that went out the window when he heard your voice on the other end and before he knew it he was shoving the phone into Jane’s hand. “I wish you would have asked her how she was instead of immediately making it about business.”
“Eddie, of course this is about business. This about your career. You do not have the best track record with women and the fans are starting to notice. You don’t want to lose everything do you?” Jane asked as she got up and gathered her things into her bag.
“I’ll have the legal team reach out to her. Maybe they can scare her with a defamation law suit if she talks to anyone,” Jane muttered mostly to herself as her heels clicked towards the doorway.
Eddie’s chest ached at the thought of the mess he had gotten you into.
“Eddie,” Jane said as she stopped in the doorway and turned to face him. “You asked me to fix this and that’s what I’m trying to do.” She turned again, waltzing out of the room with a sense of finality.
Eddie dropped his head to his hands, his mind reeling with thoughts of you despite the years of trying to drown your memory away. This time it wouldn’t be so easy to let you go. He would have to find a way to talk to you, even though he wasn’t brave enough to do it over the phone.
There’s more to it after this I promise
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jobean12-blog · 7 months
Text
That's the Way Love Grows
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader (Beefy!Plant dad!Bucky AU)
Word Count: 1,687
Summary: You and Bucky have your first official date this weekend but he can't wait to see you so he shows up at your apartment on his bike...a dream come true.
Author's Note: Missed him so I wanted to write a little something with plant!dad Bucky again! Hope you all enjoy! Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰 You can see the shirt he is wearing HERE.
This is part of my plant!dad Bucky AU. It can be read alone but here are the first two stories for him:
Rooted in Love
Love in Bloom
Warnings: soft and sweet fluff and plant talk
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‘Hey doll face. What are you doin’ right now?’
The moment you see his name your whole face lights up just like the screen of your phone.
‘Just being lazy.’  You reply and send him silly emoji’s to go along with your text.
‘Well….’
The next message comes through and you wait, staring at the text bubbles for what feels like an eternity.
‘I’m outside your building.’
You drop your phone and run to the window, pushing the curtain aside and looking through the glass.
He’s leaning against his motorcycle, long legs crossed over the ankle and his leather jacket pulled tightly around his biceps.
His fingers twinkle with a wave.
You open the window.
“You wanna go for a ride?” he yells up.
You stare at him for a beat, trying to sear the image into your brain and then answer back with, “yeah I do!”
You don’t even have to think twice about it.  
He whoops and throws a fist in the air.
“Make sure you wear jeans and a jacket doll.”
A few minutes later you appear at the double doors of your apartment building. Bucky rushes over and pulls one open, stopping dead in his tracks when he sees you.
“You look gorgeous.”
Your thank you is lost when he steps into your space and drags you into his chest, kissing you hard and fast.
“Sorry,” he murmurs when he pulls away.
“For what,” you whisper, leaning into him.
You toy with the zipper of his leather jacket and then slowly pull it down, spreading the sides open to look at his shirt.
“I had to see if you had another funny plant shirt on,” you giggle.
You smooth your hands over his chest, mostly just so you can feel the hard muscle beneath, but also so you can read the print on the fabric better.
“Things I do in my spare time…” you start. “Water plants,” and you press your finger to the first picture of a potted plant on his shirt. “Repot plants, propagate plants, buy plants, rearrange plants…” Each time you read it’s with a press of your finger and as you get closer to his abs he starts to laugh.
“I’m kinda ticklish,” he admits.
You pay him no mind and take extra care to wiggle your finger over the last picture and it’s text.  
“Talk with plants,” you finish with a smile. “That one is my favorite.”
He smirks and slides his arm across your shoulders, walking you toward his bike.
“Speaking of plants…” he hums. “There’s something I…”
As you get closer to the motorcycle you press a hand to his chest to stop him.
“Wait.”
Your words make him swallow hard.
“Our date isn’t until Saturday,” you say quietly. “Are we still on…or?”
His brows draw together and he crushes you against him. “Doll…”
He kisses you again, slow and sweet this time but it steals your breath just the same.
“I know we have our date this weekend, but the moment I left your apartment the other day, all I wanted was to see you again. I couldn’t wait any more. So I thought we could go for a ride.”
His confession makes you melt further into him.
“Ok,” you breathe out. “I’m so happy you’re here.”
He takes your hand and pulls you the rest of the way to his bike, holding up a finger as he turns to his saddle bag and opens it.
“I have something for you,” he says.
He takes out a small bag and reaches inside it. When his hand reemerges he’s holding a small potted plant.
Your smile grows as he begins to explain what it is.
“It’s from my jasmine plant. I repotted this piece in one of the cat planters I got from Etsy…thought you would like it.”
He starts to look slightly shy, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand as his eyes fall to the plant.
“Bucky,” you squeal. “It’s amazing! And so cute! I love him!”
“Phew,” he laughs. “And don’t worry I can help you take care of him.”
“Ok good, because I know jasmine smells beautiful and I’d love to have one in my apartment.”
With one more quick kiss he places the plant back in the secure bag.
“Should I bring him up?” you ask. “I don’t want him to get hurt.”
“I always carry my smaller plants on my bike. As long as you position and secure them right, it’s fine.”
With a lopsided grin he kisses your cheek then grabs his helmet.
Lifting it up he carefully places it on your head and buckles the chin strap.
“What about you?”
“I’ll be fine,” he answers. “I won’t go too fast.”
With that he grabs the zipper of your jacket and pulls it up to your chin then throws one leg over his bike with an easy swing.
He holds his hand out to help you on the back and you immediately wrap your arms around his chest and press yourself into his back.
“Hang on,” he says, “and if anything is wrong just give me two squeezes.”
You nod into the soft leather of his jacket and hang on tight.
He revs the engine and pulls away from the curb, being mindful about his speed and remembering that you’re putting full trust in him to keep you safe.
He’s in complete control and the ride is smooth as he traverses the curves of the streets until the Brooklyn Bridge lights up the night sky as it comes into view.
The smell of salty air hits your face as you get nearer to the ocean and when he slows down and rolls into a darkened spot under the bridge you can hear the water break against the rocks.
He shuts the engine and plants his feet on either side of the bike and then reaches down to tap your leg, signaling you to get off.
With careful movements you put one foot on the ground and do an awkward hop to get your other leg up and over the seat without hitting him in the back.
You manage not to hit him but your legs are slightly wobbly, still vibrating from the ride and your knee buckles.
“Eeeek,” you screech, the sound echoing under the bridge and causing some hidden pigeons to squawk and flap away to a safer spot.
Your fists grab handfuls of air but Bucky somehow manages to dive and catch you around the waist with his metal arm.
“You okay?” he asks, his grip tight.
He waits, staring at you with concern in his eyes.
“I’m good,” you say on an exhale.
He relaxes slightly and releases you to adjust the handlebars and put down the kickstand. Once the bike is secured he gets off gracefully and helps you out of his helmet.
You look around and smile. “This is an amazing spot.”
“Isn’t it,” he echoes. “Just lemme get a blanket.”
He opens the saddle bag and sifts through it.
“Can you please check if my plant is ok?” you ask, smiling sweetly when he winks at you.
“Just fine doll,” he tells you after he shines his phone light into the bag. “Now come ‘ere.”
He takes your hand and leads you over to a clearing closer to edge of the water.
“Careful here, watch your step.”
He assures your footing with a firm hand at your back and once you’re settled on the blanket he follows and makes himself comfortable.
“Thank you for comin’ with me tonight doll.”
“Thank you for asking me. It’s beautiful here.”
You look out over the water, the city lights shining like diamonds across the vast blackness and dancing along the small waves.
“Yeah it really is,” he murmurs.
You can feel his eyes on you and realize that he’s complimenting you instead of the stellar view.
A small laugh bubbles up in your chest. “Have you used that move before?”
He drops his chin to his chest and chuckles. “Aw man. I haven’t but it’s that bad huh?”
You run your fingers along a strand of hair that’s fallen in front of his face before tucking it behind his ear.
“Not bad at all. In fact I think you’re really sweet.”
His eyes bore into yours. “I think you’re perfect.”
His hand reaches out to trace your lips, the pad of his thumb rough against their softness and once he’s relished in their flawlessness he slides his hand along your jaw to cup the back of your neck.
The small space between you disappears and you press your lips to his. Your hands weave into his hair and you gasp out his name, the sound igniting him. His tongue slips past your lips but he takes his time, teasing and nipping even as he tastes you.
He pulls you closer, sliding you into his lap and smoothing his free hand up your back.
The shock of bright lights shines through your closed eyelids and you jump in surprise, breaking the kiss. You lay your hand over your squinting eyes as Bucky looks over his shoulder, hissing at the brightness.
The car stops for a moment, the headlights boring into your small hidden space, and then thankfully it turns back to the street and drives off, returning you once again to the quiet of the night and the sounds of the ocean.
Bucky turns back to you, your eyes meeting.
“Hey,” he whispers as he traces the curve of your jaw.
“Hi,” you answer before peppering his scruffy cheek with kisses.
When your gaze finds his again he asks, “will you watch the sunrise with me?”
You nod and then wrap your arms around his neck, snuggling against his shoulder and breathing him in. A breeze blows over the water, carrying the chill of night and you shiver in his arms. He tucks you closer and grabs the blanket to wrap it around you both.
“I promise I’ll keep you warm,” he whispers as his head dips and he brushes his lips to yours.
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@book-dragon-13 @hiddles-rose @randomfandompenguin @goldylions @kmc1989 @lizette50 @buckysdollforlife @blackwidownat2814
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thewriterg · 6 months
Text
𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐧’ 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐨𝐬 chp.1
pairing(s); simon ‘ghost’ riley x fem!reader, johnny ‘soap’ mactavish x fem!reader, kyle ‘gaz’ garrick x fem!reader, john ‘bravo six’ price, werewolf!soap, harp crow hybrid!gaz, dragon hybrid!price, wraith!hybrid (?) ghost, phoenix!hybrid (?) reader
summary; new recruits, questions, and a bag of tricks
warning(s); monster au, dark twisted themes, normal cod violence, firearms, knives, combat, pinning (?), poly themes, death, r call sign is flatline, blood consumption, eventual smut, kissin, and language
A/n; my toxic trait is starting a new series before finishing my other ones 😊 | chasin chaos masterlist
“Sergeant Mactavish, Werewolf.” The brunette held his hand out clawed fingers reaching about for the lieutenant who barely spared it a glance before looking back towards his sergeant and captain who smirked or started back at him smugly your presence lacking completely which was uncommon even if you weren’t meeting the eye he could feel your presence today it was gone but he temporarily stopped himself from dawning on it while words spewed from his lips
“Where’d you find this guy?” The gruff voice drizzled over the sassy reply made Gaz bight back a chuckle
“At the end of a rainbow” The harpy replied smartly his arms crossed over his chest feathers lying delicately over the surface of his forearms slightly lighter than the ones on his back where his wings sat it’s trail coming curtly to an end when it reached his the front of his wrist that damned fitted cap resting around his head in its common home ground talons tapping one of the many quills the sound almost sounding if he were thunking a table having his feathers harden on command just for the sake of it a quirk you could say
“Worth his weight in gold mind you” Price offered eyes not looking up from some type of notes he were reading over thick pear and moss mixed green colored horns sitting adorned on his well kept hair curling slightly forward and up Ghost could tell he was wearing an older shirt since there were two holes cut out instead of one for his stray wing that still sat strong spar bones matching the color of his horns and furless tail while the mainsail resembled a more dirty rag cream color
“They said it not me” Soap grinned mock waving off the compliment quirking the damned thick bushy brow of his the only one with a slit slicing right through the point of the arch while the hulking man sighed heavily dragging a hand over his covered face balaclava with a simple print of his actual hard mask a skull
“Fuckin’ hell… you follow orders?” The muffled voice was not a mere obstacle for the hybrid to hear the slight pointed ears on the side of his face doing their job well to listen
“I well trained if that’s what you’re asking. Sit, stay, paw, jump, roll over, I know ‘em all.” The brunette looked off mocking a ponderous expression counting off on his fingers the canines in his mouth slightly showing even though they were retracted
“Real bag of tricks, aren’t you?” The instinct in the sergeant perked up as you suddenly trailed beside ghost surprised that he hadn’t been able to pick up your presence or at least your scent quicker like he had with Ghost especially since they were so… different not having a face to match with your cooled voice since it seemed you also favored a balaclava yours simply plain black yet he didn’t mind just gave him two sheets to play at once…
Raking eyes over your figure the man determined you were a looker for sure yet he didn’t miss how the other silently agreed
“My apologies miss, I dinae get your name” Soap stated a now gentle smile resting on his face that you seemingly ignored accent seeping through a little more and as more time went on the more he could smell the authority coming from you and Ghost it was a little less than Price yet more than Gaz and the other recruits around base
“Depends who you ask. What’s the role you’ve had in your pack?” You questioned eyes low that he could see through the gap in your mask where your sight shone through staring him down almost as if you could see right through his soul yet he kept his quirky grin Mohawk stopping just below the base of his neck a small piece of stray hair lying against his forehead thick fluffy tail perking up slightly swaying against the back of his thighs cargo pants dipping in the back just below his tail
“I’ve been in a few packs could be an alpha, beta, omega if you wanted me to… but I seen you have your roles sorted. I’ve got no problem bein’ ah pup miss” You roll your eyes at that while the brunette winks you swiftly trail away dragging Ghost away with you picking up Price on the way while both men let you drag them along their hulking figure’s towering over your back boots slightly thumping against the floor before your figures disappear within the halls he turns to the crow who’s fiddling with the screen of his phone
“You ever feel left out of somethin’?” Soap questions and Gaz suddenly stands a small smirk on his face as he rakes his eyes over the wolf before shaking his head
“There’s enough for everyone to get their fill, you’ll be next soon enough” Without an explanation the sergeant was already trailing away opposite of where you had gone leaving him alone
But never for too long
⋆.ೃ࿔*:・⋆.ೃ࿔*:・⋆.ೃ࿔*:・⋆.ೃ࿔*:・⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
“It’s rude to stare sergeant” Ghost grunted gruffly after jamming his janky locker shut barely giving Soap enough time to look at his shadows slipping from under his glove some looking like it was traveling farther up almost resembling veins while the rest began to make a small cloud on his wrist until he shoved his sleeve over the sight unapologetic about the whole thing barely looking over his shoulder to acknowledge the wolf as he stood behind him
“Just tryin’ ta figure you out, Lt.” He grins tail becoming livelier as it perks up behind his back before it reluctantly lowers still up and lively
“I’m well traveled, seen a lot of things, met a lot of people. Never smelt anythin’ like you… or Flatline for that matter” A slightly clawed finger rests curled on his chin tail gently flapping up and down it had been a little over a week since he was recruited it didn’t take long for him to find out your name or call sign that might have well been your name since no one seemed to know it just by the brief description of eerie, bold eyes, and a mask to cover you face, he got the answer of either Ghost or Flatline
“Hell of a compliment soldier” The blonde resorts almost sarcastically finally looking over his broad shoulder to lock eyes with the brunette and he waves him off finally stepping closer to the skull mask wearing man deciding by his side was the best place to stand and if he noted the smoke trying to spill from his pockets where he had his hands shoved deeply he didn’t say anything about it
“Och, you know I dinnae mean it that way. Can’t blame me for bein’ interested, I never packed with a wraith hybrid before… or a phoenix thought they were bedtime stor-”
“Not hybrids” Ghost cuts off the scott before he can dig any deeper and he furrowed his eyebrows questioning if he had heard right if his ears were failing him or not with a small ‘what’ spilled from his lips
“We’re not hybrids.”
“No shit? What the hell is tha’ like?” Swiftly Simon was in front of him eyes bold yet precise slicing right through him while Johnny’s gaze slightly widened at the quick movement his boots not even so much a squeaking against the ground a bit of the air currents flowing against Soaps slight shorter form
“You ever shut up Mactavish?” He somewhat seethed and the wolf was back to sly grin in less than minute, the grin that showed his canines in the full well kept facial hair adorning his structure even more, the grin the wraith wanted to wipe of his fucking face to be exact.
“Only when people make me.” Soap implied looking up slightly to address his superior with a voice that would make other feverish or peely in his terms that damned drunken grin still on his lips while Ghost practically stared him down eyes slightly squinted thoughts brewing behind those sharp, precise eyes of his that the Scott couldn’t wait to hear of tail swaying behind him with a bit more speed than before but of course his Lt. was a tease and put all his weight on one foot to turn walking out of the locker room without so much a grunt but he liked the chase
And so did superiors
⋆.ೃ࿔*:・⋆.ೃ࿔*:・⋆.ೃ࿔*:・⋆.ೃ࿔*:・⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
“It’s an in and out mission that I’m sure you could do on your own, however I don’t need higher ups on my ass about favoritism. You’ll grab a few normals and head Midwest in the states to Chicago. One out of three missiles resigns with one of the biggest weapons busts in America that’s supposedly on its way over to Russia package delivery for a friend of ours… Makarov.” The air in the room shifted at the name drop of a once friend fallen foe even though You and Prices shoulders were up at the mere mention of Russia itsself you had a love hate relationship with meeting room as you got passed a file over things you truly didn’t need to go over things that a rookie could even fill in the blanks for
“This will either be the easiest sail of your life or your standing on the line of death, you all know your first priority even though I know you don’t want to hear it. Push come to shove the normals go first.” The older short cut haired woman looked at You, Price, and Ghost especially Soap noticed it confused him at first the wraith and phoenix at least, two lieutenants in such a small base or at least a small base that wasn’t Air Force but it made sense to him shortly after when he peeked in on occasional training sessions thought out a week You and Ghost switched groups between normals and weaker hybrids both favoring one group more than the other deep down and then at the end of the week bring them together to spar
“Wheels up at 04:00 tomorrow I’m sure you’ll have your picks by then.” Laswell sighed looking around the table for any objections your sitting between Soap and Gaz while Price and Ghost are sitting on the opposite side of the rounded table one of your legs are crossed under your form while the other is propped up you have your arms wrapped around it and your covered chin is lying on your knee and without another word she grabbed her laptop and exited room something about a ball and chain to her desk
The wolf and harpy are first to get up from their seats and the winged hybrid doesn’t go before gently brushing his fingers against your arm migrating towards the exit even though he’s stopped shortly by a shit eating grin and swaying tail conversation quickly taking place between the two
“So, what do you think?” Price hums both him and Simon approaching your seat as you began to stand rolling your shoulders eyes low beneath your mask it was still early in the day only 13:27 you had a training group normals at 14:15 sharp anyone who was a minute late got to run laps around base even if they weren’t hybrids or the ‘superior’ race in the field you couldn’t determine if you were fighting a hybrid or a normal and if you babied them because they were weaker than a super they wouldn’t have a fighting chance against one.
“He asks a lot of questions” Ghost responds curtly while the older man takes no offense to it producing a chuckle from the back of his throat taking out a cigar from his breast pocket in his vest holding out the thick brown lump filled with nicotine out to the blonde who responded by taking out a silver lighter snapping the cover back quickly as it produced a flame its front covered by an ace card with its main attraction being a skull the drug lights aflame a small hissing sound coming from it when the salt and pepper haired hybrid took a drag
“Comes with the package. Wolves don’t like uncertainty in the pack dynamic.”
“He knew you and Gaz before he transferred, didn’t he?” You spoke up squinting your eyes at your captain eyelashes mere meters away from kissing your cheek standing the only way he could get a read on you and Simon he usually says ‘those eyes can tell you everything and nothing all at once, just gotta watch em.’
“Yes, but you’re both hell of a new variable” Price admits before smugly nudging your shoulders with his strong single wing while Ghost crossed his arms over his chest you roll your eyes stepping away from the pair
“Save your verdicts until you see him in action, he’s a vision in the field.”
⋆.ೃ࿔*:・⋆.ೃ࿔*:・⋆.ೃ࿔*:・⋆.ೃ࿔*:・⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
Hey… how yall doing 😅
I haven’t posted since October I missed you writers!
Ermm I’m a year older —Nov 8th— happy belated birthday to me
And that’s about it 😭
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glassartpeasants · 17 days
Text
How to Love .03
Trafalgar Law x F!Reader
Warnings: Fluff, angst
A/N: Sorry that it's shorter then normal but i can not tell you how hard i had to grind to get this shit out.
~~~
“Law? You alive?” Soft fingers could be felt gently skimming against Law’s forehead, making him lean into their warmth before his eyes snapped open.
Jumping up, Law looks around his room before seeing you kneeling down beside his bed. His heart slowly calms before finally finding the words to speak. “(Y/N)? What are you doing in my room?”
“Well, good evening to you, too.” Rubbing his eyes, Law looks at you with a confused look.
“What? Evening?” Turning to his alarm clock, he sees it’s 8 am.
“We had a power outage due to an unexpected storm last night. I thought you might have already fixed your clock, but I was wrong.” Law jumps out of his bed and opens his curtains to see a beautiful sunset staring back at him.
“Why didn’t you wake me earlier?! What time is it?!”
“It’s currently 6 pm. Also, I thought you were actually trying to catch up on sleep.” Standing up, Law looks at (Y/N) in bewilderment before pacing around.
“I have stuff I need to do! Shit, I need to pay bills.”
“Done.”
Stopping in his tracks, Law stares at you. “What?”
“I said done. I paid them.”
“I also made a sheet with finances on everything I know we’ve spent at least together in the last month. I didn’t go through your mail. Went grocery shopping and cleaned the entire house. I did save some financing things so we can go through them together.”
“I-”
“I did everything.” A silence covers Law and you as you both look at each other.
“Why?”
“You always work so hard! I don’t think I’ve ever seen you sleep in once since I’ve known you! For a doctor, you think you’d take care of yourself more.” Law watches as you cross your arms.
“I…Thank you.” Law says in almost a whisper. “But never let me sleep in again.”
“But you look so refreshed! Even if you got wild bedhead.” You tease. Law grumbles before trying to flatten his hair, only for it to bounce back. You can’t help but giggle.
“Maybe if you take a shower, it’ll fix it.”
“Alright. Now get out.” You can feel Law push you out of his room before closing the door.
“What? No ‘Thank you for waking me up (Y/N)?’” You say sarcastically.
“I would have said that if it wasn’t 6 pm!” His voice rang from behind the door.
“So ungrateful!” You chuckle before walking away towards the kitchen. The smell of dinner is too much to resist.
As soon as Law heard you walk away, a loud crash and curse left your lips.
“Fuck! Bepo, no!” Law quickly put on a decent shirt before running out to the dining room. His jaw dropped as he watched you holding Bepo, who had a whole grilled fish in his mouth.
“Spit it out! How dare you eat my fish, you asshole! I thought we were cool!” Law was speechless, so he watched his cat and roommate fighting over fish.
Turning your head, you saw Law just standing there. “Law! Help me! Little shit has my food!” You get a good grab on the fish, and just as you think you’ve gotten it, Bepo takes another bite.
Law can’t help but stiffle a laugh as he watches you fight with Bepo. When you finally lost grip of the fish, Bepo made a break for it, which led you to begin chase.
“Damnit, cat! Give it to me!” Law hears you yell from down the hall. Chuckling, Law moved to what used to be the dinner you made. Paw prints everywhere as well as nibble marks from Bepo’s teeth. White cat hair covering every inch of food.
“He’s never jumped on the table and ate our food before. What’s gotten into him?” 
He could hear you stomping and cursing your way back to the kitchen, telling him that you were unsuccessful in your mission. When you entered the kitchen, you stood beside him and looked at the mess Bepo had reduced dinner to.
“Looks like he ate good tonight.” Law chuckled, trying to lighten up your now-soured mood.
“He probably just gained all the weight we’ve worked so hard for him to lose! Why would he do this? He’s never done this before!” You whine. With a frown, you begin to clean up the ruined dinner.
“This fucking sucks. I spent so long on this dinner for you, and he came along and ate it!” Law’s eyes widen upon hearing your words.
“You made it for me?” Law watches you stiffen before going back to normal posture.
“Yeah, I did. I wanted you to have a stress-free day, but Bepo decided to be an asshole and destroy dinner!” You sigh as you throw away the destroyed food before putting the dishes in the sink to wash.
“I don’t wanna order takeout 'cause I know you don’t like fast food. I just…” You sigh as you try to figure out what to do.
“Takeout is not that bad. We can order something and watch TV…together?”
Feeling your heartbeat pick up its pace, you gulp before answering. “You sure? I don’t wanna force you to eat food you don’t like just to cheer me up.”
“I’m sure we can find something. I think Olive Garden delivers?”
“Olive Garden, huh? Never took you for a pasta fan.” You joke, trying to lighten up the mood.
“I’m a sucker for restaurants who put actual effort into making their food.”
You laugh. “And our old classmates said you weren’t funny.”
“What? Who the hell said that?” Law’s offended tone made you smile.
“Doesn’t matter. You're a doctor making big bucks and saving lives while they're cleaning Mcdonald's bathrooms for quick cash.” Law couldn’t help but feel a slight smile tug at his lips from your words.
A laugh escapes Law’s throat. “I guess if you think so, that’s all that matters.” Law pauses as soon as he realizes what he’s said. Yet he doesn’t see how his words bring a smile to your face.
~~~
You can’t help the smile that sticks to your face as you work endlessly to fulfill customers' orders. Your mind is running with the thought of Law and his smile.
“What’s got you all smiley?” Killer asks you as he cleans the counter.
“What? Am I not allowed to smile?”
“You are, but that’s not a regular smile you got on your face there.” His words make you stop in your tracks as you snap your head in his direction.
“You have someone on your mind, don’t you?” You can practically hear the smirk behind his mask.
“You don’t know what the hell you're talking about, Killer.”
“I bet it’s Law, huh? Doesn’t shock me. You’ve been his roommate for about five months and went through a breakup together.” You hit Killer in the arm.
“Shut up! What if someone hears you!” You whisper with a burning face.
“Afraid he’s gonna show up and hear me saying the truth?”
“Killer, if you don’t shut up, I’m going to murder you.” Killer only laughs as he looks at you.
“Yeah, okay (Y/N). Whatever you say.” You huff as you look down at the clean coffee machine in front of you. Killer’s words bouncing in your skull. You didn’t want to admit it, but maybe Killer was right. Perhaps you were falling in love with him again.
“I did have a thing for him in college. Before dating Eustass. I ended up falling for him during our time together working on that project.” Killer stops cleaning as he looks at you. Silent but wanting to hear your words.
“I don’t know what it was about him, but by the end of the project we were grouped together for, I had ended up falling for him. Hard. It took me a lot of convincing, but I thought that maybe he liked me too.”
“Did he?”
You stay silent before answering. “ I guess not because my best friend asked him out, and he said yes.” A deep pang shot through your heart as you remembered.
“She had told me afterward that she liked him since we started college but never told me until I talked to her about asking someone out. I didn’t say Law’s name, but he was the one I was talking about.” Sighing, you grip the counter.
“Her telling me she’s liked him since we started college broke me. How could I try dating the man I liked for a whole semester while my friends liked him from the beginning? It broke my heart to hear him agree to be her boyfriend. Having her bring him around was like torture the first few months.”
“While I, of course, never acted out of place with Law while he was with (.....), I only managed to get over him when I heard him say ‘I love you’ to her. That was when I knew I had lost. After a few months after that at graduation, I begin to date Eustass. After that, we slowly stopped talking and only saw each other when it was with (.....). Until five months ago.”
“When you caught Eustass and (.....)?”
“Yeah…When I caught them.” Your heart burns at the memory, but not as bad as it had been before. What used to be a stab in the heart now felt like a bee sting.
“How am I supposed to tell him that I’ve fallen for him again? What if he doesn’t feel the same? How am I supposed to live with him? Not to mention, ruin a friendship.”
“I suppose that does complicate things.”
“I don’t understand. How come this has to happen? It’s like the universe is doing this to fuck with me. Shoving something in my face that I want something I can’t have.” Killer stays quiet as he listens to you speak.
“It’s easier just to shove them down before you end up hurt.”
~~~
“Is that a smile on our grumpy doctor's face? What’s got you all happy?” the charge nurse teased Law.
“Your the second person to tell me that, and it’s annoying me.” The nurse chuckled.
“Oh, please, Law. Everyone can see you’ve got something on your mind, or is it…someone?” The nurse watches as Law tenses, and his cheeks dust pink.
The nurse squeals. “It is!” She claps her hands in excitement. "You have to tell me! I promise I won’t tell anyone!”
“No! I’m not telling you anything!” Law whisper yells.
“Aw, why not? I could give you advice!”
“I’m not telling you about my personal life! So stop asking!”
Huffing, the nurse gave up. “Fine! But here, there is a 3rd-degree burn case in room eight. Says a new co-worker turned up the coffee machine too high, and when it accidentally spilled on her hand, it scalded her.” Law snatches the clipboard and narrows his eyes at the nurse before making his way to room eight.
Opening the door, he expected anyone but the person before him. “(Y/N)?!”
“Hi, Law,” you chuckle nervously. “I didn’t know you worked in the ER.” Law can hear the nervousness in your voice. His eyes scan your body before seeing your bandaged hand. He carefully grabs your hand and looks at it.
“How did this happen?”
“A relatively new co-worker put the coffee temperature too high, so when I went to pour it and accidentally spilled some on me, it got all over my hand and burned it. I didn’t think it was that serious initially, but Killer made me come in. And now it turns out I have a third-degree burn.”
“Does it hurt?”
“No. Not really.”
“Well, you're an idiot for not coming in sooner.”
“It didn’t hurt other than the initial pain of being burnt!”
“That’s cause it burnt away your nerves!” Your shocked expression told him all he needed to know. Law sighs as he examines your burn. 
“It’s definitely a 3rd-degree burn; you're gonna have to keep it bandaged and change it at least once daily. It’s not big enough to need surgery, but it’s still gonna scar. Drink a lot of fluids. I’m prescribing you an antibiotic to prevent infection.”
“Alright. Good thing I live with you. You can help me with it all.” You say with a smirk, causing him to roll his eyes but with a smile. 
“But forgetting about me, how’s your day going? Did you drink your fluids?”
“I’m the doctor, and you're the patient. Don’t try that with me.” Law chuckles.
“You seem to be popular with the ladies' Law. A lot of nurses are looking at you from outside the room.” Law’s head snaps to the doorway to see a few nurses sticking their heads into the room through the doorway.
“I’ll be back.” You giggle as Law walks away and out the door.
Leaving the room and closing the door, Law turns his head to the nurses. “What are you doing?!” Law whisper yells at them.
“She’s the one that's got you all smiley, isn’t she?!” The nurses squeal.
“No, she isn’t! She’s just my roommate until she finds a place she can afford!” Law tries to defend himself, but the pink that swarms his cheeks tells the nurses everything.
“She is! And you're even roommates with her! That’s perfect! Come on, you have to ask her out on an official date!”
“That’s not happening! God, you people are so nosy!”
“What’s stopping you-”
“I’m not her type, alright?” Law snaps, causing the nurses to hush.
Running a hand through his hair, Law sighs. “I’m not her type, so even if I did like her, she wouldn’t say yes.”
“How do you know?”
“I went to college with her. That’s all your gonna get.” Law runs a hand through his hair.
You rotten his brain and wormed your way into his heart. Somehow, in the semester-long project he did with you all those years ago, he ended up gaining feelings for you. There was just something about you. The way you laughed, your smile, how you always seemed as happy, the list could go on.
He was sure you liked him too. How you looked at him couldn’t be anything other than it, right? You’d scoot closer to him when you both worked on the project—texting him about things other than the project. Bringing him food you had made.
He wanted to, oh, how he desperately wanted to ask you out. So when he got a note on the desk he always sat on had a note that said to meet him at the park, he was so sure it was you. It had your handwriting and everything. It had to be you. And when he saw (.....), your friend instead of you, he was shocked.
She had told him that you had written the note for her cause she was too scared to do it during school hours. She had even joked about a double date with you and a guy you were thinking about asking out. He felt his heart break when he heard it. Did he really jump to conclusions and think you liked him when you could have just been friendly?
All these thoughts ran through his mind that day. He didn’t know why at the time, but he did say yes to (.....) asking him out on a date. Possibly to forget the pain he felt? A distraction? He didn’t know.
But now, those feelings he thought were snuffed out reappeared stronger than ever. He wanted to be with you all the time. All he could think about was you. Even worse than college. His dreams were filled with images of you. He heard your voice when you weren’t there. Almost everything reminded him of you. He could look at a cloud and somehow be reminded of a memory you two shared.
Ever since you moved in as well, his diet has gotten relatively healthier. While he still drank coffee and energy drinks nonstop, you always ensured he ate. Hell, you’ve even started making him lunches to bring to work two months ago when you found out he usually didn’t eat anything during his shift. He couldn’t help but chuckle cause with every lunch came with a terribly drawn Bepo picture on whatever color sticky note you had. Each one he kept in his desk drawer.
“Law! What do you want for dinner?” You yell through the rooms door to Law, causing him to be pulled from his thoughts.
“Just roommates, huh?” One of the nurses asked with a smirk while the others held smug grins. They could easily see through the stoic doctor's facade. 
“Just roommates.” Law glares before entering the room to answer your question.
“I give it another month before he caves.”
“I say two. He seems to be pretty worried about his friendship with her.”
“True, I say three, though. Gotta give him time to boil in his feelings for a little longer.” The nurses converse with each other as they try to sneak peeks at the doctor and the cause of his smile.
~~~
“Law, hurry up! It’s about to start!” You yell to him. The sound of his footsteps rings throughout the apartment, letting you know that he heard you.
“I’m coming. I’m coming. Give me a second.” Chuckling, Law sits down next to you on the couch. 
“I’m so excited! I can’t believe they’re making a Sora: Warrior of the Sea show! You know what that means, right?” You squirm in your seat in excitement. 
Putting his feet up, Law looks at you. “ What does it mean?” He says with a smile.
“That means every Thursday we get to hang out and watch a new episode! Doesn’t that sound awesome?” You can feel your heart beating out of your chest from happiness as you smile brightly at him.
Law looked down at you and felt his heart leap. You were so excited to be near him. Telling him how you couldn’t wait for it to be a common occurrence. Despite him telling himself not to go down this road again. He couldn’t help but imagine how it’d be if you two were an actual thing—feeling your warmth against his cold frame, holding you close. Laying down next to you at night, hearing your soft breaths. Being able to admire your calm features as you sleep. And even feel your lips against his.
Law could see you sitting next to him, so close your thigh touched his. You didn’t seem to notice or care, which made his heart beat in his ears. He couldn’t even pay attention to the show, as he was more focused on you and how close you were to him. There was an itch inside him, telling him to do something. Now would be the perfect time to make a move, even if it was small. So, taking a breath, he took the risk.
Law moves his arm up slowly before laying it behind you on the couch. His heart beats rapidly, as he pretends not to notice he’s done it, giving you quick glances to see if you’ve noticed anything. So far, to him, you haven’t
But you noticed right away.
You were screaming internally with excitement and nervously biting your tongue. Could it mean he liked you too? Was it an accident? Either or made your heart beat against your ribs. Your head spins as you try to act cool and not show how excited you were to have him so close to you.
If he had made a move, then who were you to ignore it? So, with an internal deep breath, you lean back against his arm. His warmth makes a shiver run across your spine. It felt as if your face and body was on fire from his skin touching yours. You curled your toes in your socks as you tried to contain a steady breathing.
You take a swallow the lump in your throat as you decide to take a jump of hope. With a sharp intake of breath, you lean closer into Law, placing your head on his shoulder. His cologne flooding you like a calming aroma. In his arms felt like a dream come true. Laying against his shoulder as his arm laid behind your head. 
Even though the you told yourself that you wouldn’t fall for Law or act on your feelings, sometimes it’s okay to lie. Even if it’s to yourself.
~~~
Taglist:
@yuki190 @stachelrose @loraleiii @axcel-lucci @st4rfevrr @rexspersonalhell @nanapurinpurin @elen-alambil @starlightkitten19 @bby-deerling @queenofthekill @chaes-tea @emmaiscool22 @shuujin @augustanna @likeliterallywtf @iraaiitz @cherrybomb5000 @lavenderkaye106 @jabean @wrennyx @jamaicaa-blakee @ashortdork @kat2tired @nerdgeekandeverysweet-blog @getsue @kaptain-rebekah @reigenmagnet @rebeccawinters @keenzinemugstudent @mydearlybeloathed @firefistussy @throne-inmyside @littleleelee @thepurpleempath @yuji4lierrr @whodissbitj @slut-for-buck @ihatespidersdie @bluebunny002 @gabi-moureira @blairbellerose @luciledreamz @mrstraffy @yukiyury @lunalovesthe-moon @kenqki
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spockandawe · 8 months
Text
Double edit: actually, that's enough of that.
Edit: I was expecting maybe thirty notes tops. This is a surprise, and one that doesn't delight me. If I hear about any harassment stemming from this post, I'll be more pissed at the harasser than the person this is about.
God. Dammit.
I hate this, let's just out that out there! I'm unhappy that I'm talking about any of this, I'm unhappy there's an issue that's come up at the intersection of media preservation, respecting authors, and one of my favorite book series. And I'm unhappy that I've censored the names in the screenshots I'm about ti post! I'm not happy that I'm helping to slide consequences away from someone who thought this was an acceptable thing to do to a modern working author. But I'm even less happy this is something that happened in the first place, and I'm VERY unhappy the original post has been deleted without a whisper of accountability or apology.
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And here's a partial screenshot of the IA page, which has since been removed. I get the excitement to share something you love with a new audience. This isn't the right way to go about it.
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First, if Martha Wells' patreon is still in place, I encourage everyone in the strongest possible terms to go sign up for it. It'll charge you one dollar. I've been a member since probably 2018, and I mistakenly believed it was locked to new members (it's labeled 'Currently Closed To New Patrons') until I had reason to look it up last night, when I tripped across this reddit post from earlier this year.
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Now. I was looking it up because of this sudden patreon message:
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Even if the patreon goes away, I still recommend that people sign up. Explore the stories! They're very fun! Even though the patreon has been dormant for years, I've loved having that repository in place.
In fact, in the interest of full disclosure, what kept me from immediately reblogging last night is that I've felt the same archival urges! I bound a hard copy of these stories earlier this year, and let me quote my own words from that post:
I live in a state of perpetual low key stress over the impermanence of digital media and that goes extra for sites that aren’t designed to work well as archives. I hope, desperately, that someday Martha Wells publishes more raksura, maybe even including these stories! I will buy it immediately. No thoughts, wallet empty. I own all her other raksura books in literally three formats, fingers crossed that by printing this, I can actualize a formal official printing of these stories by the author 😂
So. Archiving, yes. But especially with a living, working author, I would never DREAM of posting a public free-for-all with IA and mediafire links. My most charitable interpretation is that OP thought it was fine since the stories were "free," even though the writeups acknowledge that access costs a dollar. Ao3 is also free. Reposting someone else's fic is still understood to be a dick move.
Last night i was left kind of stunned, and I was hoping to see some kind of response from op this morning taking responsibility, and was... disappointed to see that the post was just deleted. The IA listing was deleted too, and I hadn't actually looked up the mediafire post yet but I'm guessing it's also been nuked. Out of curiosity, I wanted to see if there was anything more in the comments, so I found a surviving reblog. And there was!
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So I'm writing this post because I'm... frustrated. Taking down the files is a good step. Posting them publicly was a worse step, but hey. I still more than understand if Martha Wells still deletes her patreon. I don't understand what sending her files of her own stories is meant to accomplish, but whatever. Ascribing a profit-driven motive is driving me up a wall, though. She's financially stable. I read her email, and what i see is frustration that even though it only cost a dollar to access 62k of her work through her own chosen location, control of her writing is being forcibly removed from her. I'm sure that seeing copies sold by third parties wouldn't help, but I don't think that's the root issue.
This is a fandom-heavy website, I'm sure most of us have seen posts about not reposting art when you can share directly from the artist's blog. I've seen posts about stop copying your ao3 faves over to wattpad just because you like reading there better. At a fundamental level, I read the message from Martha Wells as a deep frustration at having no way to share her creative work without someone removing control of it from her hands. And I don't know if there's any way to really take back that damage.
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owliellder · 8 months
Text
Two's A Crowd
College Bully! Leon Kennedy x fem! Reader
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MDNI 18+
(Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5)
Description: College is proving to be a lot harder than you imagined. You cannot fail this math class. So when you've tried everything else, a well-known student is recommended to you by your professor for tutoring lessons, not really leaving you with much of a choice but to work with him.
Warnings: Not proofread, No Use of Y/N, Dub-Con, Unprotected Sex, Bullying, Yelling, Cursing
Tags: College AU, Bully! Leon, Shy! Reader, both are in their early 20's, Leon is Rude AF in the beginning, Loss of Virginity, Oral Sex, Fingering, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Additional Tags to be Added
Author's Note: I've been late posting this entire series 😭. i explained a bit when anon asked, but i LOST my compression gloves and got a new pair relatively quick on top of my $200 medication 💔 my wallet is in shambles guys
ANYWAYS thank you all for sticking around and bearing with me!! i kiss and hug everyone!! even though i haven't responded to comments lately, i read every single one and it always makes me giggle ♥️♥️
Cross-posted onto AO3
Chapter 5
The drive back to your university with your mom was excruciating. You hadn’t told anyone what’d happened which meant you had to keep a happy demeanor around them throughout the holidays up until now. Dread had settled in your stomach once the drive began and continued to spread the closer you got, similar to when you’re headed to the doctors or the dentist, just a million times worse.
Texting Ella and Sky had helped a surprising amount, turning the majority of your anxiety into rage. Ella was furious when she found out, so her fury, and Sky’s, quickly became yours.
They hyped you up, ready to be at your side and assist in tearing “that shitty fratfuck” to shreds. The support meant so much after everything, especially after the reality of it all set in; you’d seen the picture via snapchat from someone you didn’t know, so how many others had seen it?
Your worst fear was being seen as easy, being used like you were. But you weren’t, were you? Your friends had made sure to try and convince you otherwise, you had to give them that, yet even with the facts laid out in front of you, it was still hard to divert your thoughts away from that ever-looming self-doubt.
Seeing the campus come into view only served to solidify those thoughts and feelings. No matter what Sky and Ella had tried or are willing to do for you, it just wasn’t enough to fix what’s been done.
Your mom helped you bring your suitcase up to your dorm, giving you a tight hug and a kiss on the temple before saying goodbye and heading on her way. Playing okay around your family all winter break was exhausting, so you just chose to sit in silence on your bed instead of unpacking your stuff. Always prepared, you wanted to get here a few days early, using unpacking and settling back in as an excuse, when really you just needed time to collect yourself before the inevitable happened.
He was here, and you were sure he’d seek you out eventually once he spotted you, or maybe when one his friends did and the word made its way back to him. Whichever way it happened, you knew it’d be unfavorable. 
“Hey,” Ella’s voice from the doorway caught your attention, “you look miserable..” How hadn’t you heard the door open? 
“I am miserable, but uh.. let’s just pretend I’m not, okay?” You replied, barely cracking a smile as you glanced up at her. 
She gave you a weak laugh in return, letting the door close as she slowly sauntered over to you, plopping down right next to you on the edge of the bed. “Fine, yeah. You haven’t shown me your schedule yet, by the way.”
“Oh, right-” you paused to reach over and grab your bag, rifling through the various papers in there until finally pulling out the schedule you printed out a couple weeks back. “It’s mostly the classes that aren’t fun.” You stopped to look at your schedule for a brief moment before passing the paper over to Ella, who quickly snatched it from your hand.
She squinted dramatically, holding the paper only a couple inches away from her face. “Yeaaah, these aren’t the best. At least it looks like you’ll have the majority of your pre-reqs out of the way for next year though.” Her observation made you chuckle with a nod.
“Which is what I’m trying to do. Work myself to the bone now, chill out later.” 
“Don’t kill yourself trying to do everything in one fell swoop.”
“I promise I won’t Ella, this is just how I-” A knock on the door drew both yours and Ella’s attention away from each other, an immediate scowl settling on her face. You wanted to ask, but it seems she already knew what you were going to say, quickly shushing you in a hushed voice, “Sky won’t be here until tomorrow night. Don’t answer that.”
You paused, thought for a moment, then nodded once with pursed lips. Ella was a pretty serious person, the mom of the group you could say, so when she pulled that tone, you knew better than to test it. Besides, you didn’t want to see who or what was on the other side of the door, you needed more time.
The next day was a little better, if uneventful. You finally brought yourself to unpack your suitcase, a chance to reorganize everything since you’d gotten a few new things over the holidays. Ella stuck close, bringing food up and into your dorm to take advantage of the empty mini fridge while the two of you binge watched a few random movies.
You stayed cozied up in your bed, having already mapped out and memorized your walking path for each class; longer, less foot traffic to and from. All you had to do was get through the rest of this year, that’s all. Little extra walking never hurt anyone, right?
When classes actually started, the long and complicated walks actually worked for a time; no one gave you strange looks, no one tried to talk to you, and it was pretty quiet. Scenic. But everyone knows everything good must come to an end eventually, and of course it had to be when you were just starting to forget all of this mess.
He caught you between classes. Scenic walks backfired massively when you realized there wasn’t anyone else around on that part of campus. Guess you didn’t think this one all the way through.
You couldn’t help but notice he looked pretty roughed up, sporting a few bruises along his cheekbone, a split lip, and a healing black eye. Seems he’s been busy over winter break.
“Listen, please listen-” Leon pleaded, holding his hands out in a weak attempt to trap you in the hallway. All this did was make you even more uncomfortable. “I know what I did was wrong, but I was not the one who sent that picture around, I swear.” You just stood in place after a few tries to get around him, giving him an almost bored stare. He didn’t really expect to finally catch you, so he stumbled over his words as he continued to ramble.
“I-.. I’m so, so sorry for doing that to you,” he slowly lowered his hands back down to his sides once he was sure you’d stay to listen, “I know that what I did was terrible, and I mean it when I say that I am sorry. I wish there was a way to turn back time and undo it, but I can't. I can't even explain why I did it in the first place, but that's not an excuse. I just- I messed up big time and I was- am stupid for letting it happen.”
To you this seemed sincere, but you really couldn’t be sure and it was safe to assume it wasn’t. Leon managed to trick you for months, who’s to say this wasn’t a trick as well? 
Your look turned skeptical, crossing your arms tightly against your chest with a shaky breath. Despite handling this better than you thought you would, it was still nerve wracking having this kind of talk.
“I'm not good at this, but I'm more than willing to do whatever it takes to make things right, if that's even possible..” Leon breathed out, panting as he tried to catch his breath after talking so fast. “I managed to uh-.. to find everyone who had the picture and I made them delete it.”
“I made them delete the picture.” He repeated, taking another moment to breathe before suddenly looking down to yank something out of his pocket. “I-I got your uh-.. these-” 
Seeing him hold up your panties so casually made you gasp, immediately looking around the hallway to make sure it was still empty before shooting him a glare, whispering a harsh “Put them back! Put them back!” which made him scramble to hide them in his pocket again. 
“Right- right, sorry! Sorry…” Leon was sweating at this point, growing increasingly anxious under your gaze. He didn’t want to mess this up any further, but man he was doing a pretty shitty job at that right now.
His hands were shoved into his pockets as well, both of you blushing with embarrassment, and also shame on Leon’s part. Once he managed to slow his breathing, he started to talk again, a noticeable frown tugging at the corner of his lips. “You don’t.. have to forgive me or anything, I just wanted to make sure you knew that hardly anyone knows and-” His adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed dryly, turning his head to the side to look at the wall, “.. and that I’m sorry. I really do like you, I guess I just took a little too long to realize it…”
You made another quick glance over your shoulder before looking back at the man trembling in front of you who was still avoiding your gaze. You wanted to hate him so bad, so bad, but it was hard when all you could see was the Leon who was so sweet, the Leon who let you cry to him when the weight of the world was on your shoulders and made you feel so wanted and loved.
“Can we-” you cleared your throat and pulled the strap of your backpack further up onto your shoulder, rocking back and forth on the balls of your feet. “Can we talk later, maybe? Like, in my dorm? I don’t want anyone overhearing any of this..”
Leon perked up when he heard you talk, pulling his hands from his pockets to nervously rake his fingers through his hair, which was now partially damp from the sweat beading off his forehead. “Oh- OH! Yeah, of- of course, yeah, I’m sorry I didn’t- I just needed to-”
You waved your hands in front of your chest, shutting him up so he didn’t spill any further. "And throw those away." He nodded silently, wiping a hand down his face until it settled right in front of his lips, probably knowing he was talking too much at this point. 
There was one more class you needed to go to that day, so you hurried off after telling him to wait outside your dorm until you were done, and he promised he would. Very adamantly, too. At least he held true to his words, standing in the hallway right in front of your dorm room like a lost puppy when you turned the corner. It was cute for a second, though annoyance quickly replaced that feeling as you walked over and let him in.
You weren’t exactly ready to have a full blown talk, but then again, no one ever was. What made it easier was your roommate never returned that semester, assuming she dropped out, so you basically had the whole dorm to yourself for the rest of the year. Or until someone had a roommate issue and needed a change. Didn’t really matter to you at that point.
There was really only one thing on your mind and that was getting Leon to explain this whole ordeal to you. You needed detail, clarification, anything to help you understand what’d been going on behind your back during that time. And he did, telling you just about everything he could; who suggested the bet, who roped him into the idea, the second guessings he had since the start, how he could’ve done literally anything else to avoid the way it all played out, everything.
Obviously you couldn’t just forgive him like that, even though he kept telling you how sorry he was and how terrible he felt about it. You wanted to forgive him, but you weren’t ready, and he understood that. He would’ve been satisfied with any response you gave him, so having been given the chance to really explain and have you listen was more than enough in his eyes.
“And just so you know, my friends aren’t going to let you off the hook,” you pulled your legs up so you were sitting criss-cross on the bed, looking across at Leon who was sitting on the bed opposite of yours.
“Yeah, I know..” he chuckled awkwardly, reaching a hand back to rub at the nape of his neck. “I was honestly expecting them to jump me, but they just give me evil looks whenever they see me.”
You couldn’t help but let out a small laugh, making a mental note to question Sky and Ella about that later. “You’ll never get nice looks from them again and I won’t be vouching for you.”
Leon nodded, silence blanketing the room as you’d finally run out of things to discuss. Though it was awkward, it was nice to have him hanging around again. “Anyways,” you started, standing up from your bed slowly as you vaguely gestured towards the door, “I need to study, sooo…”
“Oh, yeah, totally, uhm..” he followed suit, standing up from the other bed before sauntering over to the door as you held it open for him. He walked out and turned around almost instantly, a small smile suddenly appearing on his face once his eyes met yours, his arms jerking upwards slightly as if to suggest a hug.
“Don’t push it.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
tags:
@kayotee4 @k-fallingstar @bobastayhigh @mi-zer-y @chasingkennedy @l30nva @espressonerd @jjouki @5tarx @bunnybreadloaves @whoisgami @cyanscribe @c4b3r1a @darichvep @mmmangel @kingtacocat @klee-iii @baby--vera @dakiniii @kenma-izhu @aliidarling @leonsmamacita @deadghxsty @nekoheist @dumbassmortal @cassiecasluciluce @iovewilliams @maeplayscello @deddiemunsonsblog @paranoid-but-android @mariesmain @tteokhwaa @bonnibuckets @eilonwykennedy @1dk-anym0r3 @papatyacikcik @animesnowstorm @lexi-zsy09 @mylifedoesntexist @ifeellikedying @yourmommylol04 @ravioli19 @dakiniii @papichulo120627
(few of your blogs won't pop up, i tried though 😩)
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ihavethedreamies · 7 days
Text
Matter of Pride | Hongjoong
Kim Hongjoong - ATEEZ
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Rating: M (18+) MDNI
Word Count: ~5.9k
Pairing: Lion-Hybrid!Hongjoong x Gazelle-Hybrid!AFAB!Reader
Genre: Hybrid AU!, Historical?/Ancient?, Reader-Insert, Fluff, Smut, Some Plot, Strangers-to-Friends-to-Lovers
!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!
Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, very tiny mention of noncon, Pet Names (Doll, Sweetheart, Sweet, Love, etc.), Swearing, Kissing, Biting & Scratching & Marking, Bonding/Mating, Heat/Rut, Pheromones, Oral (F! Receiving), Unprotected Sex (This is pre-birth control so…), Monster(?)!Hongjoong (not really, he's a lion hybrid)
Author's Note: Okay, here we go lol. This is NOT Omegaverse, but they do both go into rut/heat. They have animals ears and tails and he's got a spiny lion cock. Hongjoong is not necessarily bigger than reality, the reader is just small. I did also imagine this more to be set in the steppe of Central Asia/Southern Siberia rather than Africa.
I am planning on doing the other members, might just take some time since we are in the process of moving. I wanted to get this up sooner as well, but I live in Tornado Country™.
🐕 Yeosang's 🐕
🐻 Jongho's 🐻
I am cross-posting this on Archive. Please reblog! If you know anyone that would like this or future fics but they aren't on here my name and icon are exactly the same on the other site. Happy reading!
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Ever since you were a calf, the elders of your herd told you to stay away from predators. You weren't for sure why thought, since all they told you was that they were dangerous. You found that quite odd considering you were not full animals, and as far as you knew, predator hybrids did not literally eat prey hybrids. There was probably some ancient lore-based superstition or something, and it wasn't till you were older did you really think about the real facts. Despite logically knowing that they weren’t going to eat you alive, you still were a bit scared about meeting a predator.
One day you were traversing the rocky steppe of your homeland, right at the foothills of the mountains. Crouching down, you ran your fingers through the grass, feeling for the tell-tale mound of the root you were looking for. The sun was beginning to set, the cool of late-spring settling in the air.
"No." you grumbled, not feeling anything. Standing back up, your attention was quickly drawn to a new sound. Your furry ear, sticking out from the side of your head, flicked at the noise. The wind shifted and your sensitive smell picked up something unfamiliar, but it triggered a deeper, primal part of you. Predators. Logic tried to fight back against instinct, the sound was voices, not the growls of an actual animal. Still, your heart raced, the sound of blood pumping thudded in your ears. Your furry tail swished back and forth nervously, and despite your apprehensions, you moved toward the voices. Finding a path that led a bit further into the foothills, you saw fresh boot marks. Gently, like doing so would trigger something, you placed your own foot in the print, the size difference was striking. You were not a child, you were actually quite a bit bigger than the other women of your herd, but… A boisterous laugh hit your ears, your head turning toward it on its own, instinctually. Swallowing hard, you followed the tracks and when you came around a large boulder, you peered around it. There was a small clearing created by tall, jutting rocks, and a camp had been set up there. Three figures sat around a firepit, great furry pelts wrapped around their shoulders and necks. Lions. There was a fourth figure, leaning against one of the rocks, making him closest to you. Peering closer, he was beautiful. Sharp eyes and jawline, his hair wasn't as long nor as shaggy as the others. His pelt was much nicer as well, and he was the only one with a tunic shirt on underneath. A large axe-like knife was attached to his belt and he had a deep red cloth tied around his bicep. You felt the end of your tail brushing over the rock as it swayed, your nose twitching as the wind carried their scent. You had a hard time pinpointing the exact fragrance, but the one closest to you was the most potent. And the most pleasant. The three around the fire smelled like the smoke wafting around them, and like sweat and dirt. The other one though, he smelled like spiced tea and fragrant tree bark. The wind shifted again, coming up from behind you, carrying your scent right into the clearing. You barely had time to realize what had happened, trying to back away and completely out of sight, but he noticed. As you ducked to hide, his deep golden-brown eyes met your own. The intense look shot fear through your very DNA and you turned to bolt, using your species' long and fast legs to sprint. You didn't make it very far though, and the back of your tunic was seized and you bleated as you were hauled back. Turning to look at your captor as best as you could, it was the handsome one. He smelled even better so close and looked even better. Your face was hot, for many different reasons, and you wondered if he could smell your fear. Was that an actual thing?
"What's wrong Hongjoong?" One of the other lions called and he was able to hide you with his own body. He wasn't as big as the others, but still a good seven or eight inches taller than you.
"Smelled a doe, I'm going to see if I can get her." He shouted back and they went back to their raucous conversation. The lion holding you wrapped his arm around your middle rather than gripping your tunic and easily carried you around the boulder fully and down the slope. You hung there, not sure what else you could do, and he only let you go when he got to the end of the path that led you in.
"S-sorry!" You spun around to face him, not trusting him at your back, "I wasn't eavesdropping!"
"I'm not worried about that, doll. Be glad the smoke covered your scent for the others."
"W-why? Would they…" You swallowed hard, your quivering obvious to him. So were your twitching ears, and he could see your tunic shifting from your wagging tail.
"Would they eat me?" Your question threw him off, to the point that he flinched back.
"What?" He huffed, "No, of course not. Is that what you were told?" You shrugged, feeling embarrassed now.
"That's not what I'm worried they would do to a cute thing like you." Your arm reached around your back, twisting so you could wrap your fingers around the end of your braid, tugging on it. You couldn't meet his gaze, especially because you understood his implication. Also, you weren't sure how you felt about him calling you cute.
"What are you doing around here? What herd are you with?"
"I was gathering herbs…I'm with the gazelle herd southwest of here." You motioned vaguely behind you.
"What were you looking for?"
"Valerian root. It's too early for the plant to be flowering so it's hard to find." He didn't reply for a bit, glancing behind him.
"There's a big tree, east of your village?"
"Y-yes?" You were a little concerned he knew the area so well, but at the same time if they knew where your herd was, and had left it be, it was probably okay.
"What else have you been looking for?" His change of subject caught you off guard, but you answered.
"Meet me at that tree tomorrow evening, and I'll have some for you. Don't come back this way, those others aren't safe."
"You are, though?" Your question didn't sound as bold as you wanted it to. He chuckled a bit, then exhaled hard through his nose.
"Short answer, yes. I don't want to be working with them, but I don't have a choice right now."
"What do you want in return?" You asked, why would he help you just to be nice. It would be a lot of work to gather the herbs you were looking for.
"We'll see how hard it is, then I'll tell you. Deal?" He held his hand out and you eyed it. Finally, taking it, the strength behind the grip jolted you.
"I'm Hongjoong. Do you have a name I can call you?" He smirked softly and you pulled away from the handshake like he had burned you suddenly.
"(Y/N). About this time?"
"Sure, doll. Now go home, and don't come back here." Hongjoong stepped back and nodded for you to do so. Turning back to look at him a few times as you went, you trotted back home, your bag lighter than you had planned on it being.
All through the next day, your eyes kept flitting to the sun behind the clouds, waiting for it to reach the right point in the sky. You were glad you were the head healer, if you had not come back with a good haul before your mentor retired, she would've swatted your hands. In the beginning, it was weird to return to an empty tent, but after nearly six months, you were used to it. It wasn't like she was dead; it was just weird she wasn't there anymore. Your hands moved on muscle memory as you worked through the day, thoughts spiraling, always returning to the image of the lion you met the day prior. It didn't help that he was so attractive, the encounter would have been significantly less captivating without that factor. It was clear he didn't like his comrades, even past that, his appearance was very different from theirs. He had been standing far away from them as well and had even lied when he found you.
The closer toward the horizon the sun grew, the more distracted you were, and you were so antsy that for the last hour before the designated time, you stood at the edge of the village. Some of your herd had questioned your odd behavior through the day, and you brushed it off, telling them you were thinking hard about where to find more herbs. That time of year was difficult with so many different plants sprouting up, and most people accepted your reasoning. Only your mother wasn't convinced, but she also knew not to press too hard, or you would lose your patience. You didn't have too much of that.
From where you were standing, you could kind of see where the tree was, well, the rock that was hiding it. It was behind the big rock. Glancing up at the darkening sky, you could finally see the twinkling of the northernmost star, and you started to trek out. After you descended the slope, and gotten over the hill after it, you knew you were out of sight, and broke into a quicker pace. For some reason, you were excited. Was it the thrill of doing something that others would frown upon? Was it that you got to bask in the presence of the extremely attractive lion once more?
You reached the boulder faster than normal, it seemed your body was just as eager, and had decided to move faster than your brain realized. Swallowing hard, your hand brushed over the smooth stone surface as you moved around it, peaking around. Feeling a small sense of déjà vu, when you could see around the rock, you saw him under the tree.
"There's no need to hide, doll." His voice was warm and you giggled a little in embarrassment, fully coming around. Right when you got close enough, he took a bundle off his shoulder, leaves poking out from the leather wrap. Taking it gently, you crouched down so you could untie it and look. You gasped seeing everything that was there. Not only did he find everything you needed, but there was also a lot there.
"H-How did you get so much?" You looked up at him from your squat and he shrugged. No verbal response, but you were too grateful to question.
"H-here." You reached into your own bag, your string of coins jingling as you pulled it out.
"No, (Y/N). You don't need to pay me."
"But!" When you moved to give him the coins, he wrapped his fingers over yours so they wrapped around the metal pieces.
"What do you want as payment then?"
"Don't worry about it."
"I have, um. I have this mulled wine my grandfather made…" You went back to your bag, going to unite the cord of the wineskin.
"No."
"Um, okay, I have…" You shuffled stuff around in your bag, looking for the flute you still didn't really know how to play.
"(Y/N). You don't have to give me anything, it’s fine." He was closer then, trying to get you to stop your frantic search. His fingers went to your chin, forcing your head to tip back so you could meet his gaze.
"A-are you sure?"
"Yes." He dropped his hand and stepped back once more, not wanting to make you uncomfortable.
"N-nothing?" You felt bad, it would have taken hours to gather that much.
"If you really want, you can sit and talk to me for a bit?" He suggested and the request flabbergasted you.
"Really?" Hongjoong hummed with a nod, turning so he could move to the tree, sitting at the base in a divot in the large roots. Sitting down next to him, you truly felt small then, scratching at a root with your blunt fingernail. Your eyes went to his own hands, sharp claws sat at the end of each finger. You also had noticed when he smiled, his canine teeth were bigger and sharper. His golden-blonde hair, rounded ears, and tufted tail all screamed that he was a lion, even if his demeanor didn't. He wasn't scary, but he was majestic and beautiful.
"Have you ever met a lion before me?" He rested against the tree trunk and you shook your head.
"Have you ever met a predator?"
"Not really. Just seen them from afar." You picked at a dried bit of some poultice you had made that was stuck on your tunic skirt.
"You weren't as afraid as I thought you would be, then."
"If it had been one of the others, maybe."
"Why was I different?" Hongjoong's gaze on you made your face hot, you couldn't return the look.
"You could have given me away to the others, and you didn't." Yep, that was it. Nothing more to it.
"That's it?" He sounded a bit disappointed.
"Why didn't you?"
"I told you; I don't care for them."
"Then why are you travelling with them?"
"It's hard to be a solo male out here. It's easier to work with a group before I try and get my own pride."
"Oh. So, like, a bunch of wives?"
"More like two or three. Not like full lions, but..." He didn't sound super eager for that.
"Are all lion hybrids like that?"
"More or less. Never appealed to me much, to be honest."
"Really?" This piqued your interest, and you didn't dwell too much on why.
"It's rare for lions to have one spouse, out in the wilds anyway. I've debated leaving for the capital, but…"
"Why not?"
"I don't mind living off the land, but I don't know where else to go to find a wife. Most lionesses also want to be in a pride, like some ancient call."
"Huh."
"Are gazelle monogamous?"
"Hybrids are. Have a shit ton of kids though." Your response made him laugh; the sound rumbled through you.
"Can you roar like a full lion?" You were too curious. You needed to know.
"Uh, no. Can you actually bleat like a full gazelle?"
"Not really…" Now you felt stupid, ears flicking nervously. Your tail thumped a bit on the ground, your eyes meandering down to look at his. It was much longer than yours, like his full animal brethren.
"What about you?"
"Me?"
"Do you want to get married and have a shit ton of kids?" You hummed in thought. No. It was more because you didn't want to be pressed into a mold. Most herbalists never marry, let alone have offspring, that was part of the reason you chose the trade.
"No."
"You even want kids?"
"Don't know. One would be nice, but that's not how it works…" You stared in the distance toward your village.
"How many siblings do you have?"
"I'm the oldest of eleven."
"Fuck." He huffed and his reaction made you burst into a guffaw.
"Yes."
"Is your mother…okay?" This made you laugh harder.
"Uh, I can't imagine five singletons plus three sets of twins would make anyone okay."
"Not your ideal future?"
"Oh, fuck, no." Hongjoong smiled at your obvious newly relaxed state. It was then you noticed the sun had set completely, little white stars twinkling in the dark purple abyss.
"I need to get back!" You shot up, retying the bundle he had given you.
"Wait!" He stopped you with a hand on your wrist. Turning to look back at him, he licked his lips, letting you go.
"Can you meet me back here in two days. Same time?" Your eyes widened a bit at the request, but you felt a smile tug at your lips.
"Yeah, I can."
You did go back when he asked.
"You came!" Hongjoong seemed genuinely surprised, standing up straight from where he had been leaning against the tree.
"Of course?" You were genuinely surprised at his reaction, "why wouldn't I?"
"I was a bit worried you only came last time for the herbs…" He wouldn't look straight at you, and you noticed he had something in his hand. It was obviously plants.
"Is that why you brought that?" You pointed to them, and he brought them around from behind his back.
"Y-yeah."
"Hongjoong. You're the first guy that still gave me the time of day after saying I didn't want to have twelve children." You motioned behind you toward your village, "honestly I've been really impatient, waiting for…now." Your face warmed and you swiped your leg back and forth, drawing an arch in the dirt with your toe.
"You're the first girl who didn't look at me weird when I said I only wanted one wife…" He huffed, the confident smirk coming back to his face.
"Is it weird, that we're so different?" You voiced the obvious concern between both of you.
"Maybe. But it doesn't feel like it."
For nearly two months you met at the tree, every two days. One night, under a full moon, when you arrived at the tree, he met you right as you arrived, immediately sweeping you into his arms. A bit shocked, you returned the hug, warmth flooding your whole body. You spoke like normal, sitting together, shoulder to shoulder. That time though, there was something in the air. You couldn't place your finger on it, and when you went to leave for the night, he hugged you once more. When he pulled back, his hand went to cup your cheek.
"I…I don't want to let you go." He barely pulled away from the hug but did release you. His head was bowed to be closer to yours, forehead brushing yours.
"Hongjoong?" You weren't for sure what he meant, considering he literally let you go.
"Run away with me. Come to me. Stay with me." He tilted his head, nose brushing yours, his breath mingled with yours. Tears pricked your eyes, a rush of emotions knocking your breath away as he stole it. His lips were hot on yours and a tear escaped your eye. When he pulled back, his eyes met yours, and he grimaced at your tears.
"Tomorrow. I'll come to you. Here?" You asked, ready and willing. You did want to at least say goodbye to your family, gather your things.
"No. There's a cave near where we first met-"
"Behind the vines?"
"Yes."
"I'll be there."
Your mother didn’t ask too many questions. She knew there had been something on your mind, and she knew and saw that you weren't happy there. You never would be, especially not after meeting Hongjoong. You didn't have the heart to tell your father, so you said goodbye to him like it was any other time you went to gather herbs. It wasn't like you would never see them again, but you weren't sure when you would go back, not sure where you would end up. With one last glance behind you, you left your village, your bag more full than usual, but no one noticed. Standing at the entrance of the cave, you swallowed hard, parting the hanging vines and stepping in. He was there. Of course he was, it seemed he had been staying there. A very convenient hole lay in the ceiling, casting the sunlight in. The whole cave smelled of him, and once he saw you, he moved forward. You gasped, his hands cupping your jaw, lips sealing over yours. That kiss wasn’t anything like the time before. Hongjoong pulled back slightly, just so you could breathe and you whimpered at the loss. Your tail rapidly flitted back and forth behind you, ears twitching just as fast. Hongjoong's spiced aroma had grown stronger, a slight rumbling building in his chest. His hands were still holding your jaw, the claw on his thumb just barely ghosting over your skin. Stepping even closer, your hands fell on his chest, and you marveled at the hard muscle underneath the pelt around his shoulders. The rumble grew stronger under your touch, and you could already feel your core clench around nothing. Swallowing hard, you breathed in his scent, over and over, like it was a drug.
"Fuck, (Y/N)."  He practically growled, one hand moving to rest on your waist. His face buried into the crook of your neck; nose pressed to your jugular. Your blood spiked and you felt your whole body shudder. You were unsure if it was arousal, or a sense of danger, having the large fangs of a predator near your weakest spot.
"You smell so good." Hongjoong groaned, hauling you closer, leaving barely a space between you.
"Like what?" You wanted to add, 'like a meal or a mate?', but didn't want to ruin the moment.
"Like when the apricots blossom." His other hand on your jaw moved instead to the back of your head, the one on your waist to the small of your back. You gasped at the pressure of his body, feeling him growing hard against your stomach. His face left your neck, and he kissed you again. You wondered if that was what the elders implied, being eaten alive. His tongue had easily entered your mouth, swiping over yours, his large canines clacking against your much blunter ones. You had expected his tongue to be rough, but he didn't know yours would be as well, though not nearly as coarse as your full animal kin. It seemed though, that he was literally drooling, the extra saliva made his tongue glide around yours. You whimpered again, the muffled noise was nearly a bleat, and the rumble of his chest nearly a roar. Hongjoong's lips left yours, a strand of spit connecting your mouths, another trail leaving the corner of his mouth. He licked away the extra, breaking the trail, his pupils had narrowed to narrow slits. Your own pupils were blown wide, the black nearly eclipsing the color of your iris. Part of you felt the need to run, flee, that you were being hunted. Somehow though, that thought turned you on all the more.
"Are you sure, (Y/N)?"
"Huh?"
"Once I have you, I won't let you go." His voice rumbled through you, straight to your cunt, and your scent of arousal built to the point you could smell it yourself. The spiced bark of his own aroma filled your nostrils, making your thoughts hazy.
"You already have me." You replied, voice very soft, to keep it from shaking. Your brain didn't register his next move till it was already done, your back pinned to the rock of the cave, his hand still on the back of your head to make sure it didn't smash against the stone.
"Tell if it hurts too bad." His voice was in your ear, nose pushing against the collar of your tunic. Your hands around his neck moved to his upper back, gripping hard into the pelt as his teeth sank into your shoulder. Your eyes rolled back, the stinging pain just aroused you further, and his hips rutted forward once, pressing his even harder cock against your tummy. As his fangs left your skin, he licked over the spot and you flinched at the sting. Just then, his scent spiked, the aroma becoming sweeter, mingling with yours. You knew predators bonded through mating bites, but you had no idea what it would do to your body. Your entire body felt like it was on fire, blood rushed in your ears and a drop of slick started to flow down your inner thigh.
"Gotta warn you, sweetheart." He huffed, a cocky smirk gracing his features, tongue licking over the drop of blood still on his lip. He palmed his hard-on through his tunic pants, "might look a little different than you're expecting."
"Huh?" You weren't fully registering what he was getting at. Hongjoong's fingers wrapped around yours, bringing your hand to his covered cock, letting you palm over him yourself. You whimpered, you had dealt with plenty of naked males being a healer, and none compared. The thing that you noticed really, what he was talking about, were the little spines at the base of his cock and below the head. Your eyes widened, normally that would concern you some, but your body was ready and waiting. Eager even, begging.
"They don't hurt like a full lion, but I wanted you to know."
"I don't care, I just want you to split me open on it." Your bold declaration made him chuckle, his tongue licking against the tip of your ear. It flicked under the touch and the hand at your head brought your lips back to his. He swallowed your mewls, the hand he had on your back moved lower, gripping the base of your tail. When he tugged, a bleat escaped your throat, and his hard thigh nestled between your quivering ones. He immediately felt the heat of your cunt through the thin leather of his tunic pants, your slick quickly dripping over the material.
"You're soaked, love." He pressed harder, your hips jumping, the slight friction intensified by whatever hex he seemed to have you under.
"Sorry, sweet. You're sending me into a rut." His chest was rumbling again, deeper than before, "It'll be hard to hold back." Is that what was happening to you? Was he putting you into heat? Yours were normally extremely weak since you were unmated, and was it much worse because he was a predator? Did your body need to compensate for his own body’s greater power? The hand on your tail moved to cup your butt, then to your thigh, prompting you to pronk up and into his arms. You wrapped your legs around his waist, the bulge of his cock pressing over your bare cunt and you whined, breath hitching. You felt so small then, he easily held you up against the cave wall, broad enough that most wouldn’t even know you were there but your legs around his middle. Hongjoong kissed over your neck, down to your collar bone, rough tongue searing over your skin. Your hands scrambled, gripping and pulling at the pelt around his neck, trying to get it off. He helped you, reaching under to undo a small button and you pulled it up over his head, letting it flop to the ground. His toned arms were fully on display then, the red cloth around his arm somehow made the sight all the better. He never told you what it meant, and you just assumed it was an accessory. Before you could start trying to wrestle his tunic top off, he held you to him, carrying you to a pile of pelts it seemed he used as a bed. Softly, he laid you down on it, but his following movements were anything but. He ripped his shirt off and you didn't get time to ogle his bare torso because he proceeded to literally tear yours off. You had only been in a linen tunic dress, but still the ease with which he turned it to shreds was incredible arousing. His palms were rough against your soft skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake.
"Hongjoo-!" Your breath was kicked from your lungs, vision spattering with dots of light when his tongue buried into your cunt. You hadn't even realized he was down there, hands pressing to your thighs to hold your legs open. Even the slight brush of his lips over your clit as his tongue licked over your walls was intense. A strong wave of pleasure was quickly cresting, your womb pulsing hard, walls clenching.
"Fuck~!" Little bleats and whimpers left you, your tail whacking against the pelts beneath you, dull nails raking through his hair. While you had never had an orgasm, you knew that's what it was. With how quick he brought you up to and over the edge, you knew you were in for a long night. Hongjoong growled, his purr rumbling through his tongue into you, drinking your essence as it squirted from your cunt. Smirking, he pulled back, thumb gathering a drop from his chin so he could lick it off.
"You think your cute little cunt can take my cock?" His knuckles brushed through your folds, careful of his claws.
"Please, need it~" Your foot came up, pressing over his hard-on. He grunted, wrapping his hand around your ankle, forcing it off so he could take his pants off. You watched, hazy eyes trying to focus as the leather hit the cave floor. Your eyes subsequently widened, brain fogging further. Little spines circled his cock, thick and long. Hongjoong kneeled between your legs, spreading them and hooking one of your knees over his elbow to keep you open for him. He chuckled at the twitch your whole body seized from when the hot head met your dripping folds.
"It might sting, love." He warned once more, the thumb of his hand on your waist rubbing small circles over your hip. You nodded, trying to relax but also steel yourself. Yes, it stung, it burned, but it was amazing. Each little bit he sank his fat cock into you, the little spines rubbed and pulled at your walls. Your slick allowed an easy glide, but his own head was swimming from the tight vice of your cunt, eagerly sucking him in. You shuddered with each breath, heat searing through you from your core out, and he was barely half-way in when you felt another orgasm cresting. You thought the pain would diminish the pleasure, but it was the opposite, the burn heated you even further. Hongjoong laid kisses over your shoulder around his mark, letting you adjust to the stretch, even if it was nearly painful for him to go so slow. As the head of his dick pressed against your eager and weeping womb, the little spines at the base brushed your clit and folds, and the final little push finished you off. You threw your head back, eyelids fluttering, nails leaving crescents on his shoulders. He groaned as your tight cunt pulsed around him, more of your slick spurting out from where he was filling you. When the waves of your orgasm faded, you still were shuddering, tipsy on the pleasure.
"Ready, love?"
"Hongjoong~" You mewled, fingers rubbing over his hot skin, blunt nails scratching a path down from where you had them. Your other leg ended up hooked over his elbow as well, and when he pulled out, only about halfway, the little barbs tugged at your gummy walls. He snapped his hips then, burying back inside, battering the fat head against your cervix. He was right, he couldn't hold back. He wanted to start slow, let you get used to it, but he couldn't. The next thrust had no warning, his pace was immediately relentless, your knees pressed up toward your ears. He was fucking you stupid, the noises you let out sounding more and more like your animal kin, bleats and moans melding. Your body had gone limp, only your arms had any strength, hands digging into the pelt under your hips. Your head lolled and your breasts bounced with each thrust. You couldn't think to let him know as he barreled through your third orgasm, more slick gushing from your cunt. His noises were animalistic at that point, anyone passing would think a real lion was rutting in that cave. His tongue ran over his long fangs, saliva spilling from his lips as he growled and grunted.
"Aw, fuck, (Y/N)." He chuckled, burying his cock as deep as he could, pressing those little spines into your groin, pumping your eager womb full. You weren't even sure you could actually get pregnant, but he was bound and determined to fill you to the point that it would leak out of you for days. The heat of his cum inside brought you over the edge too, a much smaller climax racking you. He was still hard as a rock though. You gasped, your lungs spasming as he pulled his cock all the way out, those little barbs digging in. Your world spun, your chest and stomach to the pelts below then, and he yanked your hips up, sinking his cock back in once more. At that angle he got even deeper somehow, each rough plow of his dick battering your back walls. Your vision blurred further, eyes rolling back, fingers futilely digging into the fur below you. His hips pummeled against the skin of your ass hard, the smacking combined with his beastly grunts made your ears twitch. His hand went back to your tail, wrapping around the base, tugging a bit. Shivering shot straight up your spine from where he had you, cunt weeping along with you, tears and drool leaving a puddle on the pelts under you.
"Fucking hell, love. You're so good for me~" He groaned, chuckling as your walls fluttered through another climax. Your cunt and clit stung from the overstimulation, but you needed more, you needed him to pump you full more. The bite on your shoulder flared with heat, so did your skin as his hands wrapped around the small of your waist. His thrusts once again grew unsteady, instead they were hard and shallow, pulling back just enough to rake those little barbs over your clit over and over.
"Fuckfuckfuckfuck." You rambled, vision already spotting with white, then nearly screamed when he came again, spurts of white hot jizz leaking from your hole, not able to handle the amount. Your cunt sprayed out as well, the mix of your release leaving a mess on the pelts. You gasped for air, heart thudding, sweat dripping from your forehead. He was still hard. Maybe that's why your people were warned about mixing with predators. His stamina was a beast in itself.
"Can you keep going love? Lions go for a whole day sometimes." Hongjoong groaned when your cunt clenched again, really hoping you could keep going. His body needed yours, just as bad for both of you, and he wanted to fuck you the rest of the week if he could. He might be able to, you on the other hand…
"Fuck me stupid, I don't- just your cock~!" You whined and moaned, giggling like an idiot as his hips rolled again. Picking back up to his monster pace again. Every drag of his dick seemed to eek a tiny little orgasm out of you, your body strung so tight, it sang with every one of his movements. Your brain vaguely registered as the sunlight faded from the hole in the ceiling, fading to the cool moonlight. You didn't think you could walk for a week after, he had fucked so many orgasms out of and into you, you lost count. Globs of thick seed slipped out of your cunt when he finally pulled out, cock finally softening. Your face was blank, eyes open but barely conscious.
"Sleep, my love. I'll need you again in the morning."
🐕 Yeosang's 🐕
🐻 Jongho's 🐻
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Master-Master List
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anomaly-hivemind · 8 months
Text
Horror Convention || No. 9 Gloryhole w/ Horror Characters x Fem! Reader
Kinktober Masterlist
Word Count: 1995
Warnings: gloryhole, free use, exhibition, overstimulation, large cock, vaginal sex, gangbang if you squint, vagianl fingering, mask kink, stranger sex, cosplaying oral sex, blow jobs, hand job, spit as lube, multiple orgasms,
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You were going to a horror convention, it was your first one and you couldn't be more excited to go. You were wearing a slutty freddy krueger outfit excluding the knife coves because they sold out at the spirit halloween. It was too late to buy any online. You were wearing a ripped up black and red cropped top, a jean mini skirt, some stressed thigh-highs and wedges.
When you finally got inside the convention center, there were a lot of things going on with an unsettling low amount of security personnel around. It was a bit overwhelming but you were going to push through it just fine. It was full of cosplaying horror characters, new and old, popular and niche. Even horror shorts films, tv shows and games.
“Can I take a picture with you? I really like the freddy outfit,” the muffled voice of a guy said behind an old respirator.
Oh yeah sure, I like your outfit too. It's from my bloody valentine right?” you lean into the guy so he could take the photo. The guy pulls you close to him for the picture, then he turns to face you.
“Yeah I've had this for a while now.” he laughs and crosses his arm.
“Well it's super cool, practically identical to the movie.” you look him up and down, he was a carbon copy of the original.
“A bunch of my buddies and staff are hosting an event on the west wing in an hour. You should totally go. “ The Harry warden cosplayer handed a pass for the event. ‘Glory Horror’ printed on the card.
“Yeah I will be there.” you nod and take the pass. You can't believe you got an event pass for free.
=========================================================================
An hour had passed, you had bought a scream poster, a friday the 13th shirt and the regret of your shoe choices. You push past the last part and make your way to the event. It was a ways away from everything else which was a bit suspicious but not enough for you to turn around. You show the bouncer guy your pass and ID, because you guess this is an 18 plus event.
You take a seat in the front, the seats were really comfortable. The lights were dim and the walls around the panel looked sound proof. This was super fancy for a panel. It makes you wonder what's going to happen, especially with how fast the room is getting filled with horror fans such as yourself. Most of them were wearing masks from what you can see in the dark space.
A bright red stage light hits the middle of the stage. The familiar guy from earlier that gave you your pass to this event walks to the center. Two other people dragged something onto the stage behind him, also dressed up, one looked like Amanda the pig from the jigsaw moves or the dead by daylight game. The other person was dressed like the monster from Jeepers creepers. There was a large box with a set of holes of different sizes, odd but you find the tv and cameras placed inside and outside the box.
“Welcome to this year's Glory Horror event. Many of you who know about this event already know what's up, but for our virgin Marys let me explain what’s up.” Harry warden cosplayer says through the microphone, his mask muffling his words.
“We’re going to pick a lucky Slasher Slut in the audience to go into the box.” The man snickered as the crowd went wild. Harry looked into the group of seated people, presumably to find someone to put in the box.
“Anything goes when you're behind the veil.” he points to the closed door.
You look around the audience that you were in and they all seemed excited to either be picked or see who was going to end up being picked. You just stare at everyone in confusion.
“You, are you willing to take a dive into carnal pleasures and try out the box?” He points to you from the crowd, when you point to yourself he nods. You stand up, nerves run down your spine as you walk onto the stage. You were surprised with how excited every person in the audience seemed to be that you got picked.
“What am I supposed to do?” you asked while looking at the box.
“It's pretty self explanatory, but you get in the box, the cameras are already set up, we gave you a screen to see the reactions you're giving people.” You nod at him and step into the box, it was large and you could stand up right without being seen by anyone, not counting the screen that was broadcasting you to the outside.
“You can strip down any point and if you want out of the box just push the button to unlock the door.
“You want me to do what now.” you asked from behind the wall, your voice muffled mostly.
“Strip, take off those slutty clothes and either open that pretty mouth or a hole. Prepared to get stuffed in whichever you choose and you can switch at whatever time doll.
You think for a moment, you could back out right now but a part of you wanted to see what happened. With a shaky breath you take off your freddy krueger fit and finally take off your dreadful shoes. You were just in your bra and underwear, taking a seat on your knees in the middle. The bigger hole was covered with a black sheet.
A knock on one of the sides catches your attention, you turn your head and your eyes widen. A veiny cock filled the hole, making it look smaller than it was and it makes your mouth water. You looked over at your screen to see what you're working with, a guy wearing a Michael Myers mask. Your lip quivers as you wrap your fingers around his length.
His balls twitch as you tighten the grip on this stranger’s cock. You use your saliva to wet the tip of his dick. You hear the faint groan of the Myers look alike, it was hot and a turn on for sure. You take his cock deeper in your mouth, almost gagging on it, using your hand to massage his balls and or stroke the rest of his meaty meat.
Another knock from the others size makes you pull your lips off Myer’s member. Someone else had slid their dick into the other hole, the screen splits so you can see the masked figure. It was Brahms, down to the black messy hair, even matches the drapes decorating the base of this man’s uncut dick.
You take your other hand and start to rub at his cute dick. Both of your hands were being filled with their cocks. You were soaking wet from how hot this was and if your hands went filled you would be touching yourself right now. You placed licks on both the dicks one after the other. Even the thought that there were a bunch of people on the other side of this box, watching and listening or maybe even waiting to take a turn with you.
It was hot, you felt hot and you wanted more of all of it. You squeeze the guys dicks as you jerk them both off with determination. Michael myers’ dick twitching was the only short warning you get before he shoots a hot load onto your chest. Your bra ruined with cum makes you pout for a moment before you take the thing off. You put your mouth onto the remaining man and take him down your throat. Brahms cums down your esophagus, his seed tasting weirdly sweet on your tastebuds.
You lick your lips after pulling away the dicks both gone from the holes, making you sigh. You slide off your panties and just as you thought you dripped in arousal. You rub yourself and let out short moans, a guy that was looking like Jason Voorhees pushed his phat cock through the hole. It looked heavy, craving your touch. You touch yourself with one hand while sucking off this fat dick. Even if you couldn’t fit all or even most of it into your mouth you sure as hell tried. You moan against the length of this Jason.
Your fingers thrust into yourself at a similar pace as you sucked and stroked his dick. You come to a stand and turn around, your wet cunt fluttering with horniness. Lining your slit with a guy who looked like a slasher’s dick. You let out a hearty moan as this fat cock stretches you out. You could feel his dick twitch and the man moan from the intrusion. He bottoms out in you, your walls clench around him and then he starts to move slowly in and out of you. You rub your clit as your hole gets pounded into. Another dick pops into the hole in front of you and wraps your hand around it with hesitation. Peaking at the screen in the box you see that it's a guy dressed up in a ghostface outfit.
“Ohshit ohshit ohfucking hell.” you were on the verge of coming and the mix of a Jason hitting all your spots with his girth was making it harder to focus on stroking the guy in front of you.
You try your best to get the other guy to completion but your own impending orgasm was a bit of a distraction to say the least. This Jason guy’s thrust was getting relentless and it was super hot to say the least. You hold on for as long as you could but when you feel the man’s load start to pool down your leg sends you down the edge. Before you could complain about how fast the guy pulled out another guy pushed into you, somehow even thicker and longer than the Jason guy.
You squeeze the hell out of the ghostface and your thumb pushes on his slit. It makes the guy come all over you and hand it a messy gush. The new masked covered hottie was fast enough to work you past that previous orgasm but Jason had given you but now you were getting a bit overstimulated. The faint tapping of the man's pyramid helmet on the box wall makes you giggle. Yet the humor in all of this was cut short from the brutal thrust this pyramid head was giving you.
You were already about to fall into another climax, you couldn't help but scream out a moan that you're sure everyone in the panel heard. Maybe even people outside nearby could hear your whorish moans and whales. This massive curved dick was rubbing your insides just right and your lower half couldn't take much more of it, not standing up like you are right now at least. You reach another chaotic mind altering, pussy spasming, leg trembling, back arching, toe curling climax that almost gives you whiplash an.
You feel the sticky seed fill your cunt and pull out with lackluster pace, almost like he didn’t want to leave your warmth so it takes a minute or so before he actually does . When the pyramid head finally pulls out, your body drops to the stage ground with a thud. You were panting like a dog, cum was dripping out of you and sticking to your thighs. Your heart is pounding in your chest as you try to catch your breath.
“This is the best Horror con ever.” you say breathlessly, as you look at another dick slipping into one of the holes. Checking your provided inside the box you see who it is, the host of this event… it’s Harry warden.
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