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#if you had more lines maybe you'd figure it out
glorious-spoon · 3 hours
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your way or nothing at all [9-1-1 | Eddie Diaz | 1/1]
1500 words character study | mild angst | weddings | background buck/tommy, eddie/marisol | pre-relationship buddie | not quite a feelings realization for eddie but he's getting there
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In the quieting dark, Eddie lingers by the tables, the empty chairs pushed together in a cluster for a conversation long since abandoned. It's late enough that people are starting to filter out into the night, and pretty much everybody left is crowded at the open bar or swaying on the dance floor. At the high table, Maddie has Buck's suit jacket draped over her shoulders and her cheek tipped against Chim's shoulder, and he's looking down at her with a dopily besotted expression that Eddie can clock even from here.
It makes him feel like—something, some kind of nostalgia for the wedding he never got to have with Shannon. That whole day felt like being hustled through a play that he never learned his lines to. Shannon was three months pregnant and deep in the throes of vicious morning sickness that was not improved by the catering or the stress of the day, so he spent their wedding night holding back her hair in the honeymoon suite his parents paid for and trying desperately to feel like he had a single fucking clue what he was doing. Trying to feel like a man and a husband and a father-to-be and mostly feeling like a complete fraud.
They deserved better. Both of them. Now, in this moment, after this day, it soothes more than it stings to watch Maddie and Chim hold onto each other so easily.
The song changes, and he watches a swirl of motion on the bar side of the dance floor, the particular energy that's easily identifiable as Buck even before he emerges from the crowd. Normally, maybe Eddie would gravitate in, but Buck's got a hand linked together with Tommy's, and they're laughing, and so he stays where he is. Just watches.
It's sweet, a little fumbling as Buck very obviously tries to figure out the logistics of slow-dancing with another guy. Tommy says something in a low voice and settles a palm on his hip, and Buck ducks his head, laughing, and leans into him.
It's sweet. It is. Eddie's throat fucking aches.
He doesn't know why, not really. Maybe it's the smile on Buck's face, wide and giddy and almost embarrassingly bright. He never smiled at Natalia like that, or Taylor. Maybe Ali, but the truth is that back then Eddie wasn't looking for it. Back then, he was so caught up in everything with Shannon, and he and Buck were barely more than friendly coworkers, as strange as that idea seems now.
He probably smiled at Abby like that. Eddie wasn't around for that relationship, only the aftermath, but he can imagine it. You don't hurt that badly when someone leaves you unless you really fucking loved them.
"You would not believe the line for the bathroom," Marisol says from behind him, and Eddie jolts like he just grabbed a high-voltage wire. He tries to spin it into something graceful as he turns to face her, but he's pretty sure it doesn't work, and also pretty sure that he shouldn't be feeling quite so jumpscared at the sight of his girlfriend. His heart is pounding. He rubs his knuckles against his sternum, and Marisol asks, "You okay?"
"Yeah," he says. "Sorry. You startled me."
"No, it's fine." She smiles at him, and it's pretty. She looks pretty, in a blue dress that looks black in this light, little metallic threads picked through and glittering. It hugs the curves of her body in a way that Eddie feels obligated to notice, and so he does, and when he looks her in the eye again she's smiling wider, and that's pretty too and Eddie—
Eddie still feels like a fucking fraud.
"I got you a beer," Marisol says. She's got a glass of wine in her other hand. White wine, lipstick marks on the rim.
Eddie smiles back and takes the bottle she hands him. "Thanks."
"I wasn't sure what you'd want." She grins at him, flirty. "You'll have to tell me if I made a bad guess."
He sips the beer. It's a lager, hoppy and astringent in a way that leaves a bitter aftertaste on his tongue. He takes another drink and smiles around the grimace his mouth wants to make. "It's perfect. Thank you."
The pleased relief in her smile doesn't make the lie feel any better. He takes another sip and sets the bottle down, and Marisol settles her hip against his chair, close enough that he can feel the warmth of her body. Close enough that he could wrap an arm around her thighs and pull her into his lap, if he wanted to do that. He shifts forward instead, leaning his elbows against the table, and she lets out a quiet sound and sets her glass down to sit in the chair next to him. The music switches over from Christina Perri to what Eddie is pretty sure is Savage Garden, and on the dance floor Tommy says something that makes Buck laugh and pull him closer.
"They're cute together," Marisol observes. "Buck and, um… Tommy?"
Eddie's fingers twitch on his beer bottle. "Yeah."
"I didn't know that he was, you know…" she trails off. Eddie looks over at her, and she adds, "Not that there's anything wrong with it! I just, I thought he had a girlfriend."
"They broke up. He dates guys too," Eddie says, more emphatically than is really necessary. Like this is a truth that he's always known instead of something Buck told him two weeks ago in the loft, quiet and careful like he was afraid of how Eddie would react. Like he was afraid of Eddie.
It was a date, we were on a date.
So it's new for Buck, too. Not just him. But still.
It feels like something he should have known.
"Okay," Marisol says. The corners of her mouth tighten, and she takes a pointed sip of her wine. "I didn't know that, is all."
I didn't know either, Eddie imagines saying, but the words strangle themselves in his throat just the same as, Actually, I don't like lagers, and, I don't really want company tonight, did. He wonders how the hell Buck does it—just opens his mouth and lets the truth spill out. Eddie can only manage that when it's for other people. Never for himself.
"Sorry," he says out loud. "It's been… a day."
Marisol's face softens a little, and he feels like shit about that, too. It has been a day, is the thing. He woke up in a bathtub, more hungover than he's been in at least a decade, and after that was a wild goose-chase through the desert to retrieve Chim in time for the wedding, and all that is plenty of reason for him to be off his game now. It's just that somehow it also feels like a fucking lie.
On the dance floor, Buck has his cheek pressed to Tommy's. He says something, and Tommy's shoulders shake with laughter, and then they both turn, moving easily together into a kiss. It's quick and tender, and Eddie abruptly feels like the worst kind of voyeur for watching it happen. He turns his head away and finds Marisol looking at him.
The music changes again. TLC, he's pretty sure, because Chim is deep down a very basic Gen X music kind of guy. Or maybe it was Maddie's pick, who knows. Anyway. It's a little more upbeat, but still slow enough to dance to.
"You, uh." He clears his throat, and finds a smile that feels almost right. "Come on, you wanna dance before they close it all down? They're playing our song."
"This is our song?" Marisol asks, but she's laughing. "I don't even think I was born yet when it came out."
Eddie shrugs and holds out a hand. "It could be our song. Maybe for tonight it's just a good song to dance to."
That must have been the right thing to say. She smiles, sets her wine down, and slips her hand into his, letting him tug her to her feet. They wind their way through the chairs to the dance floor, and under the string lights she settles easily into his arms. 
I know you're gonna have it your way or nothing at all, rasps the singer in a sweetly smoky voice, as Eddie closes his eyes, and sways, and breathes, but I think you're moving too fast.
I think you're moving too fast.
He breathes in, and out, and opens his eyes. Marisol smiles up at him, and he smiles back, then cuts his eyes away. There are still a handful of people left on the dance floor with them: Athena and Bobby, swaying together like they're in their own little world, a couple of Buckley cousins with their dates. Buck and Tommy are gone, though, and Eddie almost cranes his head through the crowd to see where they got to before he catches himself.
"To tell you the truth," Marisol says. "I really don't think this is our song."
"Alright, well, we can find another one," Eddie says, and she laughs and sways into him, and he holds onto her, and when he closes his eyes, it's fine; it all feels fine.
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How I got scammed
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If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:
https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/05/cyber-dunning-kruger/#swiss-cheese-security
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I wuz robbed.
More specifically, I was tricked by a phone-phisher pretending to be from my bank, and he convinced me to hand over my credit-card number, then did $8,000+ worth of fraud with it before I figured out what happened. And then he tried to do it again, a week later!
Here's what happened. Over the Christmas holiday, I traveled to New Orleans. The day we landed, I hit a Chase ATM in the French Quarter for some cash, but the machine declined the transaction. Later in the day, we passed a little credit-union's ATM and I used that one instead (I bank with a one-branch credit union and generally there's no fee to use another CU's ATM).
A couple days later, I got a call from my credit union. It was a weekend, during the holiday, and the guy who called was obviously working for my little CU's after-hours fraud contractor. I'd dealt with these folks before – they service a ton of little credit unions, and generally the call quality isn't great and the staff will often make mistakes like mispronouncing my credit union's name.
That's what happened here – the guy was on a terrible VOIP line and I had to ask him to readjust his mic before I could even understand him. He mispronounced my bank's name and then asked if I'd attempted to spend $1,000 at an Apple Store in NYC that day. No, I said, and groaned inwardly. What a pain in the ass. Obviously, I'd had my ATM card skimmed – either at the Chase ATM (maybe that was why the transaction failed), or at the other credit union's ATM (it had been a very cheap looking system).
I told the guy to block my card and we started going through the tedious business of running through recent transactions, verifying my identity, and so on. It dragged on and on. These were my last hours in New Orleans, and I'd left my family at home and gone out to see some of the pre-Mardi Gras krewe celebrations and get a muffalata, and I could tell that I was going to run out of time before I finished talking to this guy.
"Look," I said, "you've got all my details, you've frozen the card. I gotta go home and meet my family and head to the airport. I'll call you back on the after-hours number once I'm through security, all right?"
He was frustrated, but that was his problem. I hung up, got my sandwich, went to the airport, and we checked in. It was total chaos: an Alaska Air 737 Max had just lost its door-plug in mid-air and every Max in every airline's fleet had been grounded, so the check in was crammed with people trying to rebook. We got through to the gate and I sat down to call the CU's after-hours line. The person on the other end told me that she could only handle lost and stolen cards, not fraud, and given that I'd already frozen the card, I should just drop by the branch on Monday to get a new card.
We flew home, and later the next day, I logged into my account and made a list of all the fraudulent transactions and printed them out, and on Monday morning, I drove to the bank to deal with all the paperwork. The folks at the CU were even more pissed than I was. The fraud that run up to more than $8,000, and if Visa refused to take it out of the merchants where the card had been used, my little credit union would have to eat the loss.
I agreed and commiserated. I also pointed out that their outsource, after-hours fraud center bore some blame here: I'd canceled the card on Saturday but most of the fraud had taken place on Sunday. Something had gone wrong.
One cool thing about banking at a tiny credit-union is that you end up talking to people who have actual authority, responsibility and agency. It turned out the the woman who was processing my fraud paperwork was a VP, and she decided to look into it. A few minutes later she came back and told me that the fraud center had no record of having called me on Saturday.
"That was the fraudster," she said.
Oh, shit. I frantically rewound my conversation, trying to figure out if this could possibly be true. I hadn't given him anything apart from some very anodyne info, like what city I live in (which is in my Wikipedia entry), my date of birth (ditto), and the last four digits of my card.
Wait a sec.
He hadn't asked for the last four digits. He'd asked for the last seven digits. At the time, I'd found that very frustrating, but now – "The first nine digits are the same for every card you issue, right?" I asked the VP.
I'd given him my entire card number.
Goddammit.
The thing is, I know a lot about fraud. I'm writing an entire series of novels about this kind of scam:
https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250865878/thebezzle
And most summers, I go to Defcon, and I always go to the "social engineering" competitions where an audience listens as a hacker in a soundproof booth cold-calls merchants (with the owner's permission) and tries to con whoever answers the phone into giving up important information.
But I'd been conned.
Now look, I knew I could be conned. I'd been conned before, 13 years ago, by a Twitter worm that successfully phished out of my password via DM:
https://locusmag.com/2010/05/cory-doctorow-persistence-pays-parasites/
That scam had required a miracle of timing. It started the day before, when I'd reset my phone to factory defaults and reinstalled all my apps. That same day, I'd published two big online features that a lot of people were talking about. The next morning, we were late getting out of the house, so by the time my wife and I dropped the kid at daycare and went to the coffee shop, it had a long line. Rather than wait in line with me, my wife sat down to read a newspaper, and so I pulled out my phone and found a Twitter DM from a friend asking "is this you?" with a URL.
Assuming this was something to do with those articles I'd published the day before, I clicked the link and got prompted for my Twitter login again. This had been happening all day because I'd done that mobile reinstall the day before and all my stored passwords had been wiped. I entered it but the page timed out. By that time, the coffees were ready. We sat and chatted for a bit, then went our own ways.
I was on my way to the office when I checked my phone again. I had a whole string of DMs from other friends. Each one read "is this you?" and had a URL.
Oh, shit, I'd been phished.
If I hadn't reinstalled my mobile OS the day before. If I hadn't published a pair of big articles the day before. If we hadn't been late getting out the door. If we had been a little more late getting out the door (so that I'd have seen the multiple DMs, which would have tipped me off).
There's a name for this in security circles: "Swiss-cheese security." Imagine multiple slices of Swiss cheese all stacked up, the holes in one slice blocked by the slice below it. All the slices move around and every now and again, a hole opens up that goes all the way through the stack. Zap!
The fraudster who tricked me out of my credit card number had Swiss cheese security on his side. Yes, he spoofed my bank's caller ID, but that wouldn't have been enough to fool me if I hadn't been on vacation, having just used a pair of dodgy ATMs, in a hurry and distracted. If the 737 Max disaster hadn't happened that day and I'd had more time at the gate, I'd have called my bank back. If my bank didn't use a slightly crappy outsource/out-of-hours fraud center that I'd already had sub-par experiences with. If, if, if.
The next Friday night, at 5:30PM, the fraudster called me back, pretending to be the bank's after-hours center. He told me my card had been compromised again. But: I hadn't removed my card from my wallet since I'd had it replaced. Also, it was half an hour after the bank closed for the long weekend, a very fraud-friendly time. And when I told him I'd call him back and asked for the after-hours fraud number, he got very threatening and warned me that because I'd now been notified about the fraud that any losses the bank suffered after I hung up the phone without completing the fraud protocol would be billed to me. I hung up on him. He called me back immediately. I hung up on him again and put my phone into do-not-disturb.
The following Tuesday, I called my bank and spoke to their head of risk-management. I went through everything I'd figured out about the fraudsters, and she told me that credit unions across America were being hit by this scam, by fraudsters who somehow knew CU customers' phone numbers and names, and which CU they banked at. This was key: my phone number is a reasonably well-kept secret. You can get it by spending money with Equifax or another nonconsensual doxing giant, but you can't just google it or get it at any of the free services. The fact that the fraudsters knew where I banked, knew my name, and had my phone number had really caused me to let down my guard.
The risk management person and I talked about how the credit union could mitigate this attack: for example, by better-training the after-hours card-loss staff to be on the alert for calls from people who had been contacted about supposed card fraud. We also went through the confusing phone-menu that had funneled me to the wrong department when I called in, and worked through alternate wording for the menu system that would be clearer (this is the best part about banking with a small CU – you can talk directly to the responsible person and have a productive discussion!). I even convinced her to buy a ticket to next summer's Defcon to attend the social engineering competitions.
There's a leak somewhere in the CU systems' supply chain. Maybe it's Zelle, or the small number of corresponding banks that CUs rely on for SWIFT transaction forwarding. Maybe it's even those after-hours fraud/card-loss centers. But all across the USA, CU customers are getting calls with spoofed caller IDs from fraudsters who know their registered phone numbers and where they bank.
I've been mulling this over for most of a month now, and one thing has really been eating at me: the way that AI is going to make this kind of problem much worse.
Not because AI is going to commit fraud, though.
One of the truest things I know about AI is: "we're nowhere near a place where bots can steal your job, we're certainly at the point where your boss can be suckered into firing you and replacing you with a bot that fails at doing your job":
https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/15/passive-income-brainworms/#four-hour-work-week
I trusted this fraudster specifically because I knew that the outsource, out-of-hours contractors my bank uses have crummy headsets, don't know how to pronounce my bank's name, and have long-ass, tedious, and pointless standardized questionnaires they run through when taking fraud reports. All of this created cover for the fraudster, whose plausibility was enhanced by the rough edges in his pitch - they didn't raise red flags.
As this kind of fraud reporting and fraud contacting is increasingly outsourced to AI, bank customers will be conditioned to dealing with semi-automated systems that make stupid mistakes, force you to repeat yourself, ask you questions they should already know the answers to, and so on. In other words, AI will groom bank customers to be phishing victims.
This is a mistake the finance sector keeps making. 15 years ago, Ben Laurie excoriated the UK banks for their "Verified By Visa" system, which validated credit card transactions by taking users to a third party site and requiring them to re-enter parts of their password there:
https://web.archive.org/web/20090331094020/http://www.links.org/?p=591
This is exactly how a phishing attack works. As Laurie pointed out, this was the banks training their customers to be phished.
I came close to getting phished again today, as it happens. I got back from Berlin on Friday and my suitcase was damaged in transit. I've been dealing with the airline, which means I've really been dealing with their third-party, outsource luggage-damage service. They have a terrible website, their emails are incoherent, and they officiously demand the same information over and over again.
This morning, I got a scam email asking me for more information to complete my damaged luggage claim. It was a terrible email, from a noreply@ email address, and it was vague, officious, and dishearteningly bureaucratic. For just a moment, my finger hovered over the phishing link, and then I looked a little closer.
On any other day, it wouldn't have had a chance. Today – right after I had my luggage wrecked, while I'm still jetlagged, and after days of dealing with my airline's terrible outsource partner – it almost worked.
So much fraud is a Swiss-cheese attack, and while companies can't close all the holes, they can stop creating new ones.
Meanwhile, I'll continue to post about it whenever I get scammed. I find the inner workings of scams to be fascinating, and it's also important to remind people that everyone is vulnerable sometimes, and scammers are willing to try endless variations until an attack lands at just the right place, at just the right time, in just the right way. If you think you can't get scammed, that makes you especially vulnerable:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/24/passive-income/#swiss-cheese-security
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Image: Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg
CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en
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bucketsofmonsters · 4 months
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A Diplomatic Error
cw: enemies to lovers, kidnapping, being tied up, manhandling, size difference, non-human genitalia, oral sex, vaginal sex, unprotected sex
male orc x fem reader
Word count: 9k
You were headed to another counsel meeting. You never really stopped attending them, despite the fact that they never listened to a word you had to say. 
Your father said it was good for morale. You didn’t understand how watching someone sit around and not help was good for anyone’s morale, but you knew better than to question him. 
The halls of the palace were quieter than you were used to. Almost everyone had been called to the front lines, even your closest guards had gone. You weren’t used to walking alone, nor were you accustomed to the typically lively castle looking like a ghost town. 
So now you walked through the castle halls, more alone than you’d ever been before, no one there to wait on you, to protect you, to watch over you. Something in you said it should have felt freeing. 
It didn’t. It just felt lonely. 
As you walked, moving slowly as you wallowed in self-indulgent pity between war meetings, a pair of hands reached out of nowhere, one snaking around your waist to pull you back into the shadows while the other clamped firmly over your mouth. 
When the guards had been sent away, you’d been assured that you’d be safe. It wouldn’t exactly be easy for a hulking orc to sneak in undetected. At least that's what you'd been told. With a massive hand that dwarfed your face locked over your mouth, suddenly the idea didn’t seem so ridiculous.
You thrashed under the figure's unwavering grip to no avail. He easily held you in place, barely needing to put any effort in to stop your desperate bid for an escape. 
You weren’t one for swooning but suddenly a faintness came over you. You reached up to grab at the only stable thing in reach, hands wrapping around the figure’s arm, trying to keep yourself upright. 
Your knees began to buckle and only then, mind slowed by whatever he’d dosed you with, did you begin to suspect foul play. Maybe something on his skin that humans were weak to, maybe something in the air. Was he holding a cloth? You didn’t think so. But then again, he seemed so far away not, even pressed up against you as he was.
You blinked your heavy eyes and when you opened them, you were thrown over a large shoulder. You watched the road behind you as the creature holding you strode along, still blind to what was ahead. His hand was wrapped around your waist, keeping you firmly in place, jostling you only slightly with each step. 
It took you a second to gather your bearings enough to start struggling. Once you did, you started pounding on his back. It was a futile gesture but you were nothing if not persistent. At the very least, he knew you were awake now. 
His shoulder shook under you as he chuckled. “Good morning, princess,” he said, his gravelly voice carrying across the road.
“Put me down, you brute!” you shouted, trying your best to kick your feet under heavy skirts. If you'd known you'd be getting kidnapped today, you'd have worn something lighter. 
He paused and for a moment you thought maybe he'd listen to you. But you knew better than that, knew you'd have no say in any of this.
“As you wish.”
Your feet were planted on the ground, although he still had a heavy arm on your shoulder, holding you in place. A silent promise: you weren't going anywhere. 
You whipped around, eager to see what was in front of you instead of the increasingly distant road you'd been traveling on. 
You got your first look at the front of your captor, no longer flung over his shoulder. 
Despite it being part of the little information you already knew about him, the first thing you noticed was that he was massive. He towered over you, with a broad frame to match. Tusks stuck out of his mouth as he sneered down at you, marring an almost handsome face. 
You’d never actually seen an orc in person and despite years of being at war with them, it struck you suddenly that they were real. They were real and in front of you, no longer threatening figures discussed in crowded rooms you weren’t supposed to speak in but instead a real man in front of you with his hand on your arm. It radiated warmth, applying a firm pressure that told you if he wanted to he could crush you underhand. 
In front of you, next to your very real captor, was a camp. The sort of camp you imagined soldiers slept in. You had no idea which side of the border you were on, disputed or otherwise. You hoped you were still in your own kingdom, but you had no way to know. It all looked the same from here. 
Amidst the massive canvas tents milled a dozen or so orcs. At your sudden appearance, they’d stopped what they were doing, all peering at their new guest. 
As they all stared at you, you panicked. Your feet started moving before your brain did. You managed to slip out from under your captor's grasp just in time to feel his hand dart forward, pushing you into the mud before you had a chance to get anywhere.
As you lay in the dirt, you heard something that sounded like orders being barked in a foreign tongue. 
And then you were being hauled to your feet. You didn’t have the presence of mind to be upset at the manhandling as you looked down at your body, the front of you almost completely covered in mud.  
You didn’t even have time to protest that before he cut you off. “Come on, m’lady. We have much to discuss.”
You crossed your arms, about to demand more respect from him before you were being lifted again and all you could manage was a surprised little squeak.
You watched helplessly as you were hauled into a nearby tent, all of the towering soldiers staring at you as you went. 
You were deposited less than graciously on the floor of the tent, left to flounder and find your bearing on your own as your captor moved to look at you. 
The tents were incredibly spacious, at least for someone of your size, the roof towering above you. 
He leaned down in front of you, tone condescending as he spoke. “Here’s what's going to happen. You’re a bargaining chip for us. We’ll get you home as soon as your father allows it, princess.” He said your title like an insult, spat it at you in a way that made you flinch. 
“And in the meantime?” you asked, trying your best not to look afraid. You'd make your way out of this with your pride intact. Well, as much of your pride as you could still manage to salvage as you stood there, covered in mud. 
You could barely see the deep red of your dress under the grime. You didn’t even know how much of it was from your fall and how much you’d picked up on the road. 
“In the meantime,” he said, “you will sit around until we need you.”
“Perfect.” You stood, futilely attempting to brush off your skirts as you did and taking a step towards the entrance of the tent. “Well, I should go find a place to rest until I am needed.” It was a long shot but you at least had to try.   
Your captor followed you as you backed slowly out of the tent. “I don’t think you understand what’s going on here.”
“What’s the harm in it? Where do you think I’m going to go?” you shouted, gesturing around you at the thick woods. “If I had a death wish, there are far better ways to satisfy it than getting lost in the forest. Attempting to kill you, perhaps.”
He nodded. “It would be more honorable, to die in combat against me.”
You groaned. “Yeah, sure, that’s what I meant. It’d be so honorable of me. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go find somewhere to rest, maybe even clean myself.”
You managed to make it about two steps before his arm wrapped around your waist, lifting you as if you were a ragdoll.
“You’re not going anywhere.”
The words were hissed into your ear as he walked. You thrashed in his grip but it didn’t matter, he hauled you along just as easily. 
You were thrown into a new tent next to a massive wooden pole, staked into the ground in the center. 
He leaned down next to you, grabbing your arm, easily resisting your attempt to pull it away from him. As he easily held your wrists in one hand, the other reached back to pull out a length of rope. His hands were surprisingly nimble, threading rope around your wrists and securing you to the pole at the center of the tent with little difficulty. 
When he let his hands get a little too close to your face, you bit them as hard as you could, locking your jaw down on him. There wasn’t any strategy behind it, you couldn’t escape or go anywhere, but the way he hissed and yanked his arm back filled you with a little bit of self-satisfaction. That had to be worth something. 
He didn’t stick around long after. It seemed you had managed to piss him off at some stage in the kidnapping process. You couldn’t imagine when. 
Your first night in the orc camp was spent restlessly, pulling futilely at your bindings as you sat there on the floor. You tried not to wallow in your misery. This wouldn’t be forever. Your father would get you out of here, one way or another. Until then, you could put on a brave face. 
As the sun began to rise, the orcs’ curiosity in you seemed to reawaken. 
Occasionally a soldier would peek in the entrance of the tent, never for more than a few seconds, or you would see them silhouetted against the canvas, hovering nearby. When you got particularly frustrated you’d shout at them, the snorts of laughter your yelling drew from them only making you angrier. 
But anger was good. At least anger felt productive. 
You’d become accustomed enough to the curiosity of the soldiers that at first, when your captor returned, you didn’t notice it was him. It was only when he strode towards you and began to undo your bindings that you realized who he was. 
The second your bindings were undone, you made a break for it. You didn’t make it far. Your captor held you by your ankle, dangling you upside down, your various muddied skirt layers falling to cover your face as you struggled. 
“This will be easier for you if you behave,” he said, and you could hear a layer of irritation in his voice. 
You would've spat in his face if there weren't layers of fabric hanging in front of you. 
His attempts to right you were thwarted by your thrashing until you figured out what he was trying to do and attempted to still yourself as much as you could, if only to get your feet on the ground again. 
“We’re moving,” he said as you steadied yourself when returned back to solid ground. “I can carry you or you can walk.”
You opted to walk, both to preserve your dignity and to attempt to plan an escape. 
The soldiers were shockingly efficient, completely packing up the camp faster than you’d imagined possible. 
And then you were on the move. 
You had to move swiftly to keep up with them, none of the soldiers willing to slow for you. 
Your captor stayed diligently by your side, occasionally shooting you looks that seemed intended to tell you you had no chance of escape. You ignored him.
After about an hour of moving quietly, out of breath from all the walking, he was the one to break the silence. 
“You’re slow.”
“Your legs are longer than mine. Besides, it's hard to walk when you’re covered in filth” you said, struggling under stiff, heavy skirts. 
“And who is to blame for that?”
You gave him a pointed look. “In fact, I think you’ll find that you are.”
“You shouldn’t have run,” he said with a grunt. 
“You shouldn’t have pushed me!”
He rolled his eyes and then you were being hauled off the ground again. You yelped in protest but were quietly a little grateful as he sat you on his shoulder. If you had to keep moving at their pace all day, dressed as you were, you might’ve passed out. 
It wasn’t your fault you couldn’t keep up with a well-trained group of soliders. If anything, they should be impressed you managed to keep pace as long as you did. 
Your hand rested on his other shoulder as he moved, trying to keep yourself steady, but realistically, you knew he wouldn’t let you fall, his arm holding you easily in place. You were just glad you were being allowed to sit this time instead of being thrown around like a sack of potatoes. 
You spent the rest of the day like that, sitting on his shoulder as they traveled. As the sun began to set and the others began to set up camp, you expected to be set down. 
It seemed you were wrong. 
Instead of placing you on the ground or even tying you up again, he began to pace off in the opposite direction of the rest of the camp. 
Nerves began to take over you. He may have said nothing would happen to you, but you did not relish in the thought of being alone with him, let alone him intentionally dragging you away from the rest of his compatriots. 
You began to squirm again and his arm tightened, holding you in place. “Settle,” he said, his voice low and calm. 
You did not listen. 
Eventually, he did set you down, although you did not think your thrashing encouraged him to do so. 
As he did, you noticed the sound of a swift-moving river just behind you. 
He nudged you towards the river. “Clean. You’re too slow.”
“What?”
“You wanted to be clean,” he said, nudging you again. "You should clean”
“It’s a river.”
He looked at you like he was worried you’d hit your head. “It is.”
“And you expect me to wash in there? It’s full of dirt!”
He chuckled and you considered biting him again. “You’ll survive, princess.”
You groaned but decided that anything was better than the mud you were caked in. It was running water, at the very least. You weren’t certain why, but it did feel a little cleaner that way. 
You considered bathing fully clothed but you’d heard too many stories of women drowning, weighed down by layers of dresses. 
You began to pull at your dress, stripping off some of the upper layers, glaring at your captor as you did. It was too much to ask to be left alone, you knew that much, but it was still humiliating to get undressed in front of him like this. 
You only took off as many layers as you needed to ensure you wouldn’t drown. You were almost fully covered but still, you felt exposed. 
At the very least, he seemed largely disinterested in what you were doing, only sparing you the occasional glance. 
You covered your chest as you moved towards the water. He looked down at you as you did, head cocked to the side. “What are you doing?”
“The skirts are heavy, I can’t wear them in the water or I could drown.”
He scoffed. “Little weakling. That’s not what I asked though, why do you hide? You’re covered.”
“I’m being forced to strip to my underwear, of course I’m covering myself.”
He stared back, clearly still confused, and you realized as you looked at him that the idea of being properly dressed was probably not the same for him. He was covered, but largely in leathers and furs, with far more skin exposed than you would ever have, even now in your underskirts. 
“Listen,” you said, trying not to be too antagonistic, as it seemed he was truly trying to understand. “It’s different for us. Especially for me, I’m supposed to be covered perfectly at all times. Maybe you should give me new clothes.”
“Why would I do that?” he asked dismissively. 
Any patience you’d been trying to put on for him snapped. “Sorry, I forgot you’re a heartless brute, I don’t know why I asked.”
And with that, you stormed off into freezing cold water. 
The mud caking your skin began to wash off as soon as you touched the water and you let out a sigh of relief. The river looked to be snow runoff from a nearby mountain, it certainly felt cold enough for it, but for now all you wanted was to be clean. 
You looked down as you scrubbed at your skin and your skirts and as you did, you realized the whites of your underthings had become translucent in the freezing water. 
You turned and caught him staring, both looking away as soon as your eyes met. You turned your back to him immediately, feeling tears pricking at your eyes, trying to cover it up with the water that was rushing over you. It felt like you had nothing left, like this was the ultimate humiliation.
When you turned back to look at him once more, he was gone, not making so much as a sound as he left. 
You weren’t foolish enough to think he’d truly left you alone, but you appreciated having at least the pretense of privacy. It was shockingly… kind? 
No. You pushed the thought out of your mind as quickly as it occurred to you. You would not start thinking like that, not about the man who had kidnapped you. 
You finished bathing quickly, the chill starting to set into your bones. 
As you waded out of the river, he was still missing. It was evident where he’d been, massive orcs weren’t exactly built for stealth, but still he was nowhere to be found. 
In his stead, you found a pile of clothes lying on the bank of the river. As you lifted them, the first thing you noticed was while they were far too big for you, they were too big by human standards. It was an old shirt, well worn, and a pair of pants you’d have to find some way to tie to keep up properly. They were slightly torn and upon closer inspection, you found speckles of a dark rusty substance splattered across the shirt. 
Someone’s blood. From who’s side, you’d never know. 
You tried not to dwell on what had happened to the owner of these clothes to leave them in the orc’s possession. They were yours now. 
They were far more practical than your fine skirts had been, even if they didn’t quite fit properly. 
As you pulled them on, you hesitated, holding your skirts. You didn’t need them any longer, but it felt like a waste to just leave them here. 
But you had no time for sentimentality right now. You cast them aside, opting to forgo your shoes, despite the lack of new ones. Your shoes from the palace were not exactly built for forests and rough terrain. They’d only slow you down. 
As you finished dressing, situating yourself in the unfamiliar clothes as best you could, you looked around nervously. You could find no sign of your captor amidst the unfamiliar foliage, but you had more than enough reason to doubt yourself. You felt lost amidst the thick trees surrounding you, it was hard to tell where you stood. You didn’t know what to look for or how to orient yourself, trapped in a foreign landscape. 
You did what you could, checking for any onlookers, peeking through the trees, and once you’d made your decision, taking off. 
You had no idea where you were, or where you were running to, but anywhere was better than here. There were surely search parties looking for you and even if you were on the other side of the border, orc civilians or soldiers who were unfamiliar with your status were a better bet than your current captors. 
As your bare feet pounded down on a floor of sticks and rocks, you tried to ignore how cut up they were getting. 
You were faster this way. That was what counted. 
You focused on moving as fast as you could, the determination drowning out the pain until suddenly, the sharp rocks and twigs were underfoot no longer. Your brain took a second to catch up, feet still moving down to try and push off of a ground that was being pulled further and further away.
“Predictable little thing,” said a familiar voice beside you. “What happened to attempting to best me in combat? I didn’t take you for a coward, princess.”
A frustrated scream escaped you, cutting through the peaceful quiet of the forest. 
Despite your protests, he continued to haul you back towards the camp, tying you up as soon as you reached your tent, a practiced routine for the two of you by now. 
You had the night to sleep off your anger before morning came and you were on the move again. 
Your captor did not wait before lifting you onto his shoulder and this time, you did not fight him. It was preferable to running to keep up with them, especially on newly damaged feet. 
It felt strange to sit there, without struggling or screaming, just moving in silence. So instead, you spoke. 
“Do you have a name?”
“Drakar,” he said. His voice was low but with your position atop his shoulder, it was easy to hear him, even over the bustle of moving soldiers. 
“Thank you for the clothes,” you tried again, wanting to start up any sort of conversation to break the silence.
He didn’t even grace you with words this time, giving you a simple acknowledging grunt in return. 
His answers remained brief, with no apparent interest in engaging in conversation. Eventually, you stopped trying. 
When you came to a stop and the soldiers began to set up camp around you, you waited for your chance. 
The second Drakar turned his back to you, you were off. 
Another orc caught you in a heartbeat, hoisting you off the ground until Drakar could come fetch you. 
He dragged you off with a huff, scowling at you as he set you down. “Why do you continue to fight and run? I’ve told you of our plans to trade you, you’ll fare better with us than on your own in the wilds.”
“I have no desire to be a bargaining chip against my own people. Besides, I’m no fool. I know good things don’t often happen to soldier’s prisoners.”
He scoffed. “Your soldiers, maybe. We have honor, unlike them. And you call us the monsters.”
“Monsters? Maybe. Uncivilized at the very least.”
“I assure you, your soldiers in my country are living in no more luxury than we are here.”
So you were still in your country, not yet over the border. If you could just get away, your chances were good. “Well, then they’re uncivilized dogs just like you,” you spat. 
He never seemed to find your outbursts anything other than vaguely annoying or passively amusing. Right now, he seemed inclined towards amusement, despite your latest escape attempt. It was for the best, that tended to work out better for you. It was irritating nonetheless. “Perhaps.”
Your enlightening conversation was cut short as a horn sounded, a familiar announcing horn. The sound of one of your people. Drakar’s head perked up and before you understood what was happening, your legs were being bound together, untethered but severely limiting your movement. You might be able to move like this, but you couldn’t get far. 
He did not feel the need to explain this to you or threaten you with hunting you down, trusting you to come to your own conclusions as he strode off in the direction of the horn. 
You might not be able to run, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t do anything. The least you could do was try to gather information, so you could be useful when you were saved.
If you were saved.  
You managed to scoot your way towards the back of the tent Drakar had retreated to, out of sight of any of the soldiers, just close enough that you could peek under the thick fabric of the walls. 
Drakar’s back was to you. You could barely see the messenger from your spot on the floor, his body blocking your vision. You could just see the tip of a feather, presumably stuck in a hat, bobbing as the messenger spoke. 
As you got close enough to listen in, you caught Drakar mid-sentence. “- does your king think about our terms for his precious daughter?”
You held your breath, trying not to get your hopes up. This was a war. They couldn’t just be giving in to the first demands given. This could be a long, arduous process. You understood that, would never blame him for it. The country came first. 
“The king rejects your terms.” You tried not to let it get to you. You knew this would probably happen, could understand exactly where your father was coming from. The messenger continued on, unaware of your quiet heartbreak. “Furthermore, he would like to close negotiations on this matter.”
You could not hold in the gasp that came at his words. You saw Drakar stiffen and knew he’d heard you, knew he’d figured out exactly what you’d been doing. A moment passed and he untensed his shoulders and continued on. You silently thanked him. You were in no state to face anyone right now. 
“What do you mean close negotiations?” he asked, and you choked back tears. 
You cursed yourself for putting yourself in such a tight spot. You didn’t think you could manage a quiet escape, at least not without being noticed, not in your current state, so instead you sat, a captive audience to a discussion of why your family had given up on you. 
The messenger cleared his throat. “We do not negotiate with beasts.”
“So he chooses instead to abandon his daughter with them?”
The messenger disregarded his words entirely, his voice squeaking as he cried out, “You creatures will pay for the loss of his daughter.”
“She is not lost yet. He is choosing that fate for her, not I,” he hissed out.
“I have said all I was bidden to say. Do you have a message for the king?”
“Tell him if I see him or any of his scrawny little messengers again, I’ll rip them in two.”
With a little yelp, the messenger retreated. Drakar stood for a moment, the sound of his heavy breathing filling the tent. 
After a moment, the canvas of the tent was lifted and your hiding place was revealed. You sat, crumpled, on the ground, bile rising in your throat. 
That was it. There was no one coming. 
He hauled you to your feet, undoing your bindings. 
“What did you ask for me?” you asked as he undid the ropes, keeping you propped up on him as he worked. 
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It does!” you snapped. You needed to know what was so much more important than you, what you’d been given up for. “You will tell me. I’ve earned that much.”
“A full retreat. It never would have been taken, it was just supposed to be a start to the negotiations.”
“Hmm.” It was a ridiculous ask, obviously so. But to dismiss you completely? To not even try?
Drakar pulled you out of your thoughts with a question. “Would you even want to go back now? If I let you go?”
Your brows furrowed. “You can’t let me go. It would show weakness, show you’ll roll over if your terms aren’t met.”
“I know, it was just a question. So what do I do with you now?”
You shrugged. “You could kill me.”
“No. We won’t be doing that. I should have killed him, though. The audacity of them sending a little snot-nosed fool to tell me negotiations were over. I should’ve gutted him.”
“Why didn’t you?”
He spared you a look that said more than you were sure he wanted it to, rage and concern both written across his face. “I had other things on my mind.”
He tried to speak to you again but you’d begun to shut down. It was all too much, you could do no more. 
It didn’t seem too unreasonable a reaction. Your life had just ended, severed by your father without even a real rescue attempt. 
But even if you’d shut down, the world had not. 
And so it continued. Drakar seemed to have decided you were still useful somehow because every day you were hauled along with his troops, and every day you were given your own little tent. 
He didn’t keep you tied up anymore. It wasn’t because you’d become docile, you’d attempted many escapes and he’d found you and brought you back every time. You weren’t entirely sure why you were no longer being tied up. Maybe it was because you weren’t valuable anymore. 
You didn’t fully understand why you hadn’t been killed yet. What more could you do for them? 
As days passed, the grief lessened to more practical thoughts, thoughts about your future. What was there for you now? Why were you still here? What else could they want from you?
You wanted answers. 
You stood and stormed off. Several of the soldiers around you went to grab you until they realized that you were not headed out, but instead towards Drakar’s tent, letting you continue on your warpath. 
You started to shout as soon as you entered the tent and he whipped around to face you. “You should kill me. Why won’t you kill me? What do you want from me? Whatever it is, I won’t give it. I have nothing to give. I don’t understand what’s wrong with you.”
He watched your outburst with a level of amusement on his face that made you want to attack him. “Are you done?”
You ran at him, trying to claw at him, bite him, anything. He restrained you easily, pinning you against him, but still, it fed something in you, trying to do something.
You felt him chuckle behind you and if you weren’t pinned down, you would have attacked him again. 
“See,” he asked, and you felt the rumble of his voice through his chest. “You’ll be fine. You’re a fighter.”
“I will not fight for you,” you spat.
“I don’t expect you to. But you will fight for you. Nothing is over.”
He released you from his grip and before you could decide what to do with your newfound freedom, someone came crashing into the tent, armor shining a bright silver. He stood, ready to attack, sword in hand, but the second he saw you he froze. “You’re dead,” he choked out, words muffled through the metal of the armor. 
You didn’t have a chance to respond before Drakar had thrown him halfway across the camp, orc soldiers rushing over to finish him off. He didn't stand a chance.  
You stared at the spot he had just been in, processing his words, before slowly turning to Drakar. 
“What was that?”
“An attacker. A foolish little man.”
You shook your head. “No not… why did he think I was dead?’
“Princess, the whole world thinks you’re dead.”
You head snapped up to look at him. “Why?”
“Because I told them.”
You reeled back. “Why would you do that? I didn’t ask you to say that.”
“Your people didn’t seem to care.”
“Oh, thank you so much then. As long as they didn’t care, then it’s fine. You speak of honor and then do this. Why? To torture me? Make sure I have nowhere to go and ensure that I know I am not loved?”
You’d had enough of this conversation, turning heel and storming off without another word, set on putting as much distance as possible between you and them. 
You vaguely heard orders being barked to follow you, but that didn't stop you from running. 
It didn’t change anything. No matter how far you ran, you had nowhere to go. 
Drakar didn’t follow you himself, instead sending someone else to do his dirty work. A few orcs stood behind you, easily able to keep track of you and match your pace. 
You weren’t even given a full hour of feigned freedom before one of them had picked you up and started pulling you back towards camp. You fought them the whole way. 
You were set down in front of him, the whole process embarrassing. You straightened your ill-fitted pants as you desperately tried to regain any ounce of dignity. 
Despite your appearance, he didn’t seem amused. “You shouldn’t run.”
“So you saw fit to have me kidnapped? Again?”
“I had to tell them you were dead,” he said, pushing past your outburst.
You scoffed. “You didn’t have to do anything.”
“I have orders to kill you. The negotiations failed, my people wanted you dead. It was the only way out of this for you.”
Oh. There was no reprieve for you on either side. You’d known your father had signed your death warrant with his refusal to negotiate but now the orders had been given. 
“Then why am I still here?” you asked, your voice smaller than you would’ve liked. 
“It is not just. I will not kill you.”
“So what now?”
“No one knows what you look like,” he said, his voice soft and low. “It doesn’t have to be over.”
It didn’t matter. Both sides had condemned you. You had your life, but nowhere you could live it. “I have nowhere to go,” you said, sounding braver than you felt.  
“You’ll find somewhere. Until then, there’s always room for you in my camp. I displaced you, the burden of this wrong falls to me.”
You rolled your eyes. “And none of your men will send word that you’ve kept me here?”
“As long as they get to keep staring at you, I can’t imagine they’d mind.”
Your nose wrinkled at his words. “These are your honorable men? Letting me stay for the right to keep ogling me?”
“It’s not so odd. They’re fascinated by you, such a strange little thing.”
You supposed you were strange and foreign to them, as they were to you. But surely you weren’t the first, not with the combat they must’ve seen. “You’ve seen humans before.”
“Some of them haven’t. At least, not living ones that aren’t trying to kill us.”
“Who said I’m not trying to kill you.”
He snorted. “Well, you’re doing a piss poor job of it.”
“And if I stay? I won’t fight my own people, even if I was trained in combat. You’ll just carry around dead weight?”
“You’re hardly dead weight. I don’t even notice you up on my shoulder half the time.”
“You know that’d not what I mean.”
“I do. There are towns over the border where you could stay.”
You looked up, curiosity gleaming in your eyes. “They’ll take me? A random human?”
He nodded solemnly. “They will, if you wish to depart. If not… I am the reason your people forsook you. I do not regret it, I did what needed to be done, but I regret what has come to pass to you because of it. You’ve faced this better than I ever thought a human would. They’re cowards to have cast you out, I will not follow in their steps. It may not be what you’re used to, I am no prince and we are no humans, but you’re welcome to stay at my home. You will never be a princess again, that was taken from you. I took that from you. It is only fair to give what I can in return. It is not much, but it is what I have.”
You smiled, swallowing down the lump in your throat and willing away the misty feeling in your eyes. “Thank you. I’d love to stay, if you’ll have me.”
It was no great concession from you, you weren’t exactly drowning in options, but it felt like choosing it all the same. It was no less of a choice than your last home had been, born into it and forbidden to ever really leave. 
This was being offered to you. You were being given the opportunity to say no. To run. 
As much as Drakar had angered and frustrated you in the past week or so, you weren’t sure you’d ever been given this much respect. Real respect, not the fake respect of being placed in war rooms and told to be silent. 
You gave him a final nod and a smile, adding a curtsy that you pulled yourself out of halfway through when you thought better of it, tripping over your feet a little as you did. 
His eyes crinkled as he smiled at you and you wondered how you’d never noticed it before. 
You went to bed that night feeling lighter, freer than you were used to. 
As you left your tent the next morning, you almost tripped over a deer carcass left in your doorway. 
You backed away slowly, rushing over to Drakar’s tent. 
He was barely dressed for the day, the sun having only half risen past the horizon, and gave you a smile and a nod as he saw you rush into his tent. “Good morning, princess.”
You barely let him finish his sentence before you blurted out, “Someone left a dead animal outside my tent.”
He froze, his shoulders tensing.
You watched, waiting for a response and getting none, before adding, “Should I be concerned? It felt like a threat. Maybe they don’t like that you lied for me, that you're protecting me. Maybe they don’t like me like you think they do.”
“It’s not a threat,” he said with a swift shake of his head. 
“How could you know?”
He explained it through barred teeth. “It’s an orchish courting gift. You’ve caught someone’s interest.”
Your breath caught in your chest. “Oh.”
“Oh indeed.” None of the tension had left him and he made no attempt to hide his irritation. “It’s odd, an orc taking an interest in such a frail little thing.”
You rolled your eyes. He was clearly upset that one of his soldiers had become distracted with you, maybe even disgusted at the prospect of one of them taking interest in a human of all things. Clearly your bonding the day before hadn’t taken you that far. 
“I don’t know, I’ve heard I can be quite charming.”
He ignored your statement completely, shifting closer to you as he spoke. “You should stay close to me until I can find out who left it and tell them off.” He was being strangely protective almost, the disgust you’d assumed would be there instead entirely absent. 
“Why would you tell off my suitor? Surely I should do that myself. Besides, why do you even ca-”
Oh. 
The reality of why someone courting you would make him protective set in and you looked up at him with wide eyes
You couldn’t help the shit-eating grin that plastered itself across your face. “Well, maybe I’ll accept it. I’ve got no future now, it couldn’t hurt to have a big, strong orc husband.” 
He stood a little straighter as he understood the implication. “You seek protection?”
“Hm, I do, thank goodness I’ve finally found a suitable option, I was really starting to worry.”
Frustration flashed through his eyes as he realized what you were doing. “Fine, we should go find this suitor so we can tell him how graciously you’re accepting this courtship. I, for one, will be glad to be rid of you. Now you’ll be someone else’s problem.” 
“We should. Unless there’s something you’d like to say?”
His nostrils flared as he glared down at you. “Nothing.”
“Are you sure? Nothing on your mind? Nothing like, I don’t know, having feelings for the, what is it you keep calling me? The weakling you kidnapped?”
He avoided meeting your eyes as he spoke. “Your force of will is admirable. The odds were against you but still you fought.”
You fought the urge to coo at him, at how flustered he looked and how it seemed like he was forcing out every word. You had no doubt he would rather have left you an animal carcass. You preferred it this way. 
“I’m going to need you to be more direct than that.” Your voice was patient and kind and you could tell it was making things a hundred times worse for him. 
“I had intentions to look into human courting, to find something familiar for you amidst so many new things you’ve been forced into. But given the situation, I suppose I can just tell you.”
“Tell me what?” you asked. You were going to make him say it, you didn’t care how long it took.
“About my intention to court you.” 
You giggled at his pained face and he relaxed a little, looking down at you with fondness in his eyes. You wondered when that had begun. You wished you’d been paying attention enough to notice. 
“What now?” he asked. “How do your human courtships go? I will do what I must.”
You thought about it, amusement flickering through you at the thought of Drakar trying to uphold the proper etiquette required while courting a princess. But the courting process was long and strained and if you were being honest, you preferred the brutal honesty you’d been given here at camp. “Frankly, I’ve had just about enough of how humans do it. What about you? We can skip the dead animal bit, but what comes next?”
He looked you up and down, some gears turning in his head that you were not privy to.
“I will have to be gentle,” he said, before hauling you over his shoulder and bringing you over to his bed of furs on the floor. 
Your eyes widened as the implication set in. You’d been far from the perfect princess, having your fair share of trysts with guards and servants over the years, but this was a different beast. 
And then he kissed you and you stopped thinking altogether. 
It was desperate and urgent, his lips figuring out how to move against your smaller ones and you reached up, pulling his face closer as he set you below him on his makeshift bed. 
He ground down on you, clothed hips moving to meet yours. Your disparate sizes meant to do so while kissing you he was contorted at a strange angle but he certainly wasn’t complaining. 
He stopped kissing you, rushing to pull off his off pants, and his cock slapped against your stomach, thick and hard and hot and you wanted him inside you now.
But when it fell against you, it hit just above your belly button and you thought that perhaps your eyes were a bit bigger than your stomach.
He seemed to realize the impracticality of it at the same time you did, a hearty laugh escaping him. “Don't worry, princess, I'll get you nice and stretched out.”
You chuckled nervously. “I don’t know if stretching will be enough.”
He slid down, hitching your shirt up and pressing a gentle kiss on your stomach. “I won’t hurt you. If you’re not ready, that’s fine. There are other things we can do.”
He shifted both of you with ease, pulling you to sit on his chest as he laid back on his bed. You looked down at him, brows furrowed. “What about your traditional orc courtship.”
That pulled another laugh from him. “What part of this do you think has been traditional? The closest we got to traditional was when you bit me.”
You flushed red, recontextualizing the memory and wondering how many of the things you’d been doing to anger him had also been part of traditional orc courtship. 
While you were busy blushing, he’d set to work on your pants, wrestling them off of you as he easily manhandled you. You barely helped, halfheartedly kicking them off. You remembered how much you hated being picked up by him when this had begun and how much that had changed. You were loathe to admit it but every time he lifted and moved you so easily, something stirred inside you. 
As soon as he got your pants off you were pulled roughly forward, his hands wrapping around your thighs as he pulled you onto his mouth. 
He ate you out with just as much urgency as he kissed you with, wasting no time before sliding his tongue through your folds. 
His grip was unforgiving, pulling you down so all of your weight was on him. 
His tusks dug into your inner thighs and he seemed to pull you impossibly closer as his tongue thrusted up inside of you. 
Even his tongue was almost too thick, you walls stretching to accommodate it. You hands grasped at his hair, needing something to hold onto. 
His mouth locked over your clit, sucking hard before moving back to thrust inside of you again, hands rising to play with your sensitive bud of nerves as he did. 
As you began to fall apart above him, writhing against the onslaught of sensation, he only doubled his efforts. 
You arched your back, your thighs clamping down on either side of his head, hips shifting with the waves of your orgasm that suddenly overcame you. He was content to let you ride it out, grip loosening to let you have your control as you moans filled the tent. 
You came down slowly and it took a few moments to realize you were still sitting on his face. 
You moved to sit beside him on the furs as soon as you did, your face warming. 
You shifted your head to rest against him, staring down at his cock as you did. It was impossibly hard and practically pulsing with need, and you made a decision you hoped you wouldn’t regret. 
“You know, it can’t hurt to try.”
He sat up immediately, eagerness evident in his face. “You’ll stop me if it’s too much.” It wasn’t a question but a statement. 
You gave him a knowing look. “Of course I will.”
He shifted you, lifting you over him and you were happy to give over control. You trusted him.
It felt even bigger pressed up against your entrance than it had on your stomach and you took a deep breath. You waited but as nothing happened, you realized that Drakar was waiting for your signal. 
No nodded and he began to lower you, incredibly slowly. As it pushed inside, you knew the girth was more than anything you’d taken before, but it was manageable. The stretch bordered on painful but it was slow and careful enough that you had time to adjust. 
And then, as it went further and further, it became too much, 
You winced long before he’d bottomed out, about half of it inside you. It was bordering on too painful and you pressed your hands against his chest, shaking your head. “No more,” you said quietly, already weak from your last orgasm. 
He didn’t seem to mind, holding you steady as he pressed you close to him, muttering quiet praises to you. 
You slowly adjusted, not ready to take more but more than happy with what was already inside of you. 
You shifted your hips a little, pushing it against a perfect spot inside of you, letting out a quiet moan as you did. 
He put a stop to it fairly quickly, holding you still. “I think I’ll just keep you there. You’re perfect, taking me so well.”
You writhed, trying to get the stimulation you were becoming desperate for but he held you steady easily. 
So you tried a new tactic. “Want more,” you said, voice soft and sweet. If that didn’t work you’d try yelling at him, see how that fared. 
“Careful, I promised I wouldn’t hurt you. You damn humans, so fragile.”
“I’m not fragile, you’re just too big.”
“Excuses, excuses.” Despite his words, he began to slowly move, shifting out of you before pushing in again, careful to not push past the point where you’d stopped him. 
He moved you up and down like it was nothing, careful even as he began to speed up, hips shifting a little to meet you, chasing after your warm cunt as he pulled you back up.
His breathing grew shaky as he did and despite feeling overwhelmed with sensation, you fought to keep your eyes open, to watch him come undone. 
As his grunts became more and more unruly, your walls clenched around him at the sight. 
He immediately pulled you up, leaving just the head of his cock inside of you as he filled you with thick ropes of come. 
His breathing was ragged and his grip on you tightened slightly, pulling you even closer to him. 
He looked down at you, eyes softer than you’d ever seen them, before pulling you off of him and settling back with you resting on his chest. 
You made an absolute mess of him as he did, with no chance of keeping the frankly absurd amount of come inside of you. 
He didn’t seem to care at all.
“We’re making a mess,” you said, despite suspecting the objection would fall on uncaring ears. 
“You said you wanted an orcish courting, the mess is traditional.”
You weren’t sure if you were cut out for a traditional orc courting, already squirming as your thighs were coated in his spend. 
But his chest was warm and his breathing steady and you couldn’t help but settle into the comfort of it. 
“I'm gonna fit all of it someday,” you said, meaning it fully.
He laughed. “Brave little thing, aren’t you? Dreaming big.”
You snorted. 
“What happens now?” you asked as you snuggled further into him. 
“You reject that fool's advances.”
You hummed happily. “I will. I guess I’m lucky I caught your eye, don’t know if I would've survived this if I hadn’t”
“I meant what I said. I wouldn’t have let them kill you. It wouldn't be right. And you would’ve managed even without me. You wouldn't be the first human to sneak away to our side.”
That surprised you. “I wouldn't?”
He chucked, hands running through your hair. “You wouldn't. We're a more accepting group, I've found. Although you are a weak little species, we don’t have much use for you. You’re lucky you're pretty or I don't know if we'd put up with you.”
You scrunched up your nose. “You didn’t decide to court me because you thought I was pretty though.”
“No,” he said, like you both already knew the answer. “I decided to court you because no matter how many times we stopped you, you never stopped trying to run, to fight.”
You sat up with a sudden urgency. “If I said I wanted to go home, to my father, would you let me?” 
You watched the panic flash across his face and some selfish part of you hoped it was panic over losing you and not panic over the consequences that could come if you showed up alive after his order to kill you.
He sat with it for a while and you let him, in no rush to pull an answer from him.
Finally, he seemed to find whatever he'd been searching for. “I would.”
“Good,” you said, a smug feeling welling up in your chest, right beside the warmth that had begun to fill you at his answer. “Then I'll stay.”
He tried and failed to hide his smile. “Good. Does that mean you’re done running from me?”
You grinned, knowing full well it didn’t. What would be the fun in that? “We’ll see.”
“I’m sure,” he said as he shifted the two of you, wrapping you up in furs to protect your modesty before picking you up once more, with one arm under your knees and the other below your back, keeping you close to his chest. “Now, let’s get you cleaned up, princess.”
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falling-endlessly · 3 months
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The Finer Things in Death
Alastor x Soulmate!Female!Reader
Summary: An AU where your soulmate's first words to you are tattooed on your body in their handwriting.
Oh dear, where's your smile?
You knew those words by heart. Could recite them backwards, in your sleep even. Those damning words have been inscribed on the inside of your ankle for as long as you could remember, the elegant cursive strokes poking out of your shoe line.
In theory, somewhere, someone else was supposed to be sporting your own neat, boxy handwriting. You'd say you lucked out with yours. Some soul marks were less than pleasant, and others were downright embarrassing (imagine having the words move, asshole written on your stomach for the rest of your life. No thank you).
At least your soulmate was trying to cheer you up, right?
Yeah, but there was just one teeny, tiny problem.
Your soulmate was dead. Long dead actually.
Were they stillborn? Did their toddler self die in a house fire or something? Night after night you laid awake in your bed, pondering what the hell could have possibly happened to have altered the entire course of fate.
All you really knew was that your soul mark was a light gray (indicating a severed bond) instead of the usual inky black, and it had been since the day you were born. Everyone was in shock to see the faint words on your little ankle. After all, how could a soul mark exist if the other person wasn't even alive to speak those words into existence?
Simply put, you were a conundrum, and it had been some time since you had dedicated effort into figuring out why? You'd accepted it. Your soulmate was dead. Life went on.
Besides, you'd spent enough time grieving over someone you'd never met before.
Your lifestyle was not extravagant by any means, but it was comfortable. You had a steady income, lived on your own in an apartment in the city, and survived off of more than ramen bowls. Every day you would come home and read in your little fluffy alcove that you'd built yourself by your window, or pop open a bag of chips (and the occasional bottle of wine, if you were feeling fancy) while you watched the latest crime show releases from your couch.
Yes, so comfortable was your little routine, that you didn't notice the robbery happening in the convenience store you were browsing in, or the stray bullet coming for your head until it was too late. Your skull exploded in a world of pain, eyes rolling back as your body crumpled to the ground.
Dying was an interesting experience, to say the least. Your soul floated from your body, the final notes of music that blasted from your earphones fading into nothingness like the sound of a car driving away.
There was a brief moment where you were struck numb, hovering in the air as you stared down at your glassy eyed corpse, blood pooling alarmingly from the circular shaped hole in your head. You heard screams of the other customers behind you, but they were kind of muffled, like you were underwater.
It didn't last long though, because before you knew what was happening, you felt an almighty tug downwards,  like an anchor had just chained itself to your stomach.
And that was how you ended up in hell. Fun. What were you here for? You had no idea. Maybe God got mad that your teenage self stole a few packs of gummy bears in high school. But a life of eternal damnation and suffering seemed a little harsh, didn't it?
Before you could contemplate the semantics of it though, something...strange happened. Your ankle, right where you'd tried countless times to forget your soul mark existed, was burning like a fucking brand.
You hissed sharply in pain, frantically pulling down your sock to assess the damage. Was the eternal punishment starting already or something? Shit, you had terrible pain tolerance.
But what you saw made you gasp. In fact, you could hardly believe your eyes.
Because in the place of your faded grey soul mark, the letters had been reinvigorated, darkened with a swift hand and—glowing they were glowing holy shit.
"Hah," you huffed in disbelief, shaking your head slowly. "So that was it, huh? I was destined to meet my shitty soulmate in hell this whole fucking time?" You punctuated the last words with a few angry kicks to an unassuming patch of weeds. What a cosmic joke at your existence.
But, like you always did in shitty situations, you gathered all of your raging emotions, stuffed them tightly in a box at the back of your mind, and cooled your head. Freaking out in this place would do you no good.
Turned out hell was pretty much like the world you'd left, except for the fact that you could kill someone on the street and nobody would bat an eye. Like all of the depraved aspects of humanity were on full display now in a somehow still functioning society.
You managed to snag a job at an old record store, the owner giving you one look before grunting and gesturing to the register—but not before lifting his jacket to show you the long assault riffle strapped across his chest. Yeesh, you got the message.
It wasn't a bad job by any means, especially considering where you were. Sure a little boring and monotonous, but you'd restock thousands of old albums if it meant staying away from the overlords.
Oh, yeah, another thing. Overlords were like the big shots around hell. Messing with them usually meant a death sentence, or worse, a contract.
And if there was anything at all that you picked up from all those nights of watching television, it was that you do not make deals with the devil. Really, elementary level shit. And you'd never actually seen Lucifer, mind you, but these demons were probably a close second, right?
Yeah, so really, you were just living a shittier variant of your life on earth it seemed. Repetitive, safe and comforting. You were even starting to like the scent of musty cardboard, as weird as that was.
And once again, all thoughts of your soulmate slipped your mind.
Until one day, when everything went to shit.
****
It started like this: with the sad sight of your empty fridge.
You groaned, dragging a tired hand down your face. Seriously? You thought you'd restocked already, damn it. 
Your stomach growled achingly, and you sighed, wondering if you'd actually die again if you starved yourself. Begrudgingly, you decided that you didn't really want to chance it, throwing on the first set of clothes that you saw and slipping out of your dingy apartment to make a quick grocery run.
You generally hated leaving your apartment, and didn't do so except to retrieve bare necessities or walk across the block to go to work.
Why? Well, see exhibit A to your left: some poor, random demon screeching and running around on fire. See exhibit B to your right: a turf war between two rival gangs. And finally how could you forget, cannibal colony, slurping up intestines like bloody, chunky spaghetti. Disgusting.
The worst thing about hell wasn't the fact that you were in hell, it was the fact that the worst of the worst people were all cramped together like some fucked up refugee camp, and some people were significantly worse than others. Which sucked, for the poor unfortunate souls just trying to get by. Like you.
You sighed, ducking under a stray stream of bullets (you weren't falling for that shit twice) and side stepping pools of blood and guts. Just a regular Monday morning in hell. God damn it.
It seemed luck wasn't on your side though, because an ugly, dog-headed demon blocked your path, sneering down at you smugly. "Hey bitch, it's your lucky day. The big boss is hiring, and you fit the profile."
You clenched your grocery bags in a white-knuckled grip. Nobody would give a flying fuck if you were dragged off of the street in broad daylight. "Not interested."
"Oh it wasn't a suggestion," he chuckled darkly. You tensed as you were surrounded by at least four other demons. Shit, you knew you should have slept in.
"You like apples?" You nodded sharply at the demon in charge.
His face twisted in annoyance. "Why the fuck do y—"
You reached into your bag, before hurling a granny smith straight at his forehead. He yelped as it made contact, stumbling back as he shook his head in confusion. While everyone was still in shock from your weapon of choice, you shoved your way out of the circle, gunning it straight down the street because your second life did depend on it.
"Get her!" You heard a yell of absolute rage, making you shiver. Fuck, that did not sound promising. That apple must have really pissed him off.
Putting your limited aerobics to use, you ducked, dodged and lunged through the crowd like a pro. Your heart pounded wildly in your chest, air burning your lungs as you pumped your legs faster. But of course, your grocery bag ripped open, sending all of your food tumbling and you by extension, tripping and face planting in the dirt rather pathetically.
A meaty hand gripped a handful of your hair, yanking it up harshly. You cried out as he pulled, hands uselessly trying to smack his away, but his hold only tightened. A liquor-filled breath and cheap cologne invaded your senses, making you cough.
"Uppity bitch," he growled, giving your scalp a painful yank for good measure. "You actually thought you could get away? Maybe I should teach you a lesson, huh? Sample the goods."
You froze, every nerve in your body going cold. So far in your stay in hell, you'd managed to avoid the more depraved souls here. You kept your head down, didn't draw attention to yourself, and were mostly left alone. Looked like today, your luck had finally run out.
"Get the hell off of me!" You spat, twisting around vehemently, only for your head to snap to the side as you were harshly backhanded.
"Stop your fucking whining and stay still!" He snapped, narrowing his eyes.
You bared your teeth, snapping at him aggressively.
A round of mocking chuckles went around the group of your kidnappers, the one holding your hair giving you a wicked grin. "Shit, that was cute. Really—"
He didn't get to finish his sentence, because his head exploded. Literally exploded, blood and brain matter dripping from your face. His hand went slack, dropping you on your wobbling knees.
Everyone was silent for a second, staring at the bloody mess where the demon was standing two seconds prior.
And that was when you heard it. Static. Loud, crackling and ominous.
Your mouth went dry. Shit. Shitty shit shit. You knew what that meant. How could you not? The asshole broadcasted his killings all over hell like a fucking psychopath. And now, it was your turn to become hell's gory entertainment. Fan-fucking-tastic.
You stood frozen, breath stuck in your throat as dark, menacing tendrils slowly curled along the walls. A large, grinning shadow rounded the corner, before the culprit himself stalked into view, razor sharp teeth on display as he tilted his head. "Oh," his grin widened. "Am I interrupting?"
"N-No man," one of the braver demons stuttered, taking a step back. "You can have her—"
Splat.
You turned slowly to face the bloody wall, eyes wide in disbelief.
"How distasteful," the radio demon shook his head. "As if I'd participate in your brainless thuggery. No, no. Unlike you gentlemen, I have class. Truly," his eyes lit up like glowing radio dials, a dark shadowy mass rising behind him as his antlers branched out like a gnarled, rotten tree. "Did your mother never teach you any manners?"
Faster than you could blink, the demons around you were reduced to blood, cartilage and splintered bone. The overwhelming irony scent made you want to gag, but you didn't dare move a muscle, eyes fixated on the terrifying sight before you.
When the radio demon noticed your staring, his smile sharpened, antlers shrinking as he leisurely approached you. Oh no. Nononono.
You struggled to keep from hyperventilating, your body going into shock as he leaned into your personal space. Two bloody fingers pushed into your cheeks, forcing your mouth into a morbid, artificial smile. "Oh dear," he tutted in amusement. "Where's your smile?"
You jerked back violently, eyes wide as icy cold realization washed over you. Dread squeezed your lungs as you stared at the grinning, bloody figure of your soulmate in horror.
The radio demon. Psychopath and mass murderer.
Your soulmate.
What the FUCK.
"T-This," your voice shook. "This is not happening."
There was a sudden screech of radio static, before his own eyes widened. Shit. "What," he said sharply. "Did you just say?"
"A-Ah," you trembled, leaning back. Every single nerve in your body was alight, screaming at you to get the ever-loving fuck away from him.  In what was probably the stupidest and most desperate plan of your life, you pointed over his shoulder fearfully. "Look! Another one!"
As soon as he turned his head, you bolted down the street.
****
You slammed your front door closed behind you, double—triple checking your lock before sliding down to the floor in a panting mess.
Immediately you grew paranoid. What the fuck were you thinking? A lock wouldn't keep the radio demon out. You needed fifty more locks and ten more doors. You needed to barricade yourself inside for the next month. You needed—
"Hello there!" An exuberant voice chirped.
You screamed, throwing the first thing you could grab in his direction. He caught the house slipper, inspecting it in amusement, before tossing it over his shoulder.
"My, did I scare you sweetheart? Apologies," he grinned smugly, relaxing in your recliner with a mug of coffee. Your favorite mug.  
You blinked. What the fuck?
"What are you doing in my house?" You squeaked, fingers digging into your welcome mat.
"Oh dear, allow me to introduce myself," he set the mug down on your coffee table, leisurely rising from the couch and offering a hand. "I'm Alastor! A pleasure to be meeting you sweetheart, quite a pleasure."
You didn't take his hand, instead choosing to gape at him like a dead fish.
He retracted his hand, tilting his head with a shit-eating grin. Twirling his cane, he continued like there wasn't just an awkward and terrifying pause. "I hope you don't mind that I followed you! You see, I believe our conversation was cut a bit...short." His eyes glowed as unidentifiable symbols floated in the air around him.
As quickly as they appeared however, they disappeared like they were never there. Jesus Christ, this man was giving you emotional whiplash. "Anywho!" He perked up again, ever the charming grin on his face. "Enough about me! I've yet to catch your name, darling."
Fuck. You really didn't want to give him your name.
But before you could open your mouth, he leaned closer to you, grin widening ominously. "I hope you're not thinking of lying, my dear. I must say, I'm not very fond of that quality."
"Y-Y/n!" You said quickly, raising your hands to shield your face.
There was a slight pause, before a gentle touch swiped at your cheek, retracting after a moment. You peeked your eye open, only to become vaguely ill at the sight.
"You had a little something on your face," he chuckled in amusement, holding out a clump of brain matter. With a swift flick, it was magicked away.
"What do you want?" You whimpered, overwhelmed with the entire situation.
"Oh dear, is it really that strange for me to want to get to know my soulmate?" He tilted his head, leaning towards you uncomfortably close.
"Y-Yes, actually," you stuttered, trying to look anywhere but his prominent red eyes. "I thought you'd do something more along the lines of...killing and eating me." You shrunk back as his grin widened. "Please don't eat me."
"How morbid, I would never!" He waved it away, like the idea was preposterous. "My word! What awful rumors you've been hearing about me!"
"You frequent cannibal colony and I just saw you tear apart six demons like they were freshly baked bread," you stared at him incredulously. "What hasn't been spot on?"
He paused, before giving you a humoring chuckle. "Well it seems your impression of me needs correcting!" Before you knew what was happening, nimble fingers encircled your wrist, pulling it forward gently. He pressed warm lips to the back of your hand, before giving you a charming grin. "Enchantée, ma chère."
You blinked, breath stuck in your throat. "What—What does that mean?"
"Oh, don't you worry your pretty little head about it!" He gently set your hand down, before pinching your cheek condescendingly. "Well my dear, I'm afraid I have other responsibilities I must attend to!"
He stood up with a flourish, leaning on his microphone cane as he smirked at you. "Not to worry!" He snapped his fingers, and a slim, feminine shadow emerged from the ground. "Missy here will watch over you in my stead."
"What? No, I—"
"I'll be back before you know it!" He offered a chilling smile, before melting into a puddle of shadows.
You gaped at the spot where he once stood, trying to process what the actual fuck just happened. Your gaze slid over to the feminine looking shadow, still standing in the corner of your living room. She grinned at your attention, teeth sharpened.
You closed your eyes, head thumping back against your door in exhaustion. 
"I'm so fucked."
****
Enchantée, ma chère : Charmed, my dear
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inkskinned · 10 months
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so one of the things that's so horrifying about birth control is that you have to, like, navigate this incredibly personal choice about your body and yet also face the epitome of misogyny. like, someone in the comments will say it wasn't that bad for me, and you'll be utterly silenced. like, everyone treats birth control like something that's super dirty. like, you have no fucking information or control over this thing because certain powerful people find it icky.
first it was the oral contraceptives. you went on those young, mostly for reasons unrelated to birth control - even your dermatologist suggested them to control your acne. the list of side effects was longer than your arm, and you just stared at it, horrified.
it made you so mentally ill, but you just heard that this was adulthood. that, yes, there are of course side effects, what did you expect. one day you looked up yasmin makes me depressed because surely this was far too intense, and you discovered that over 12,000 lawsuits had been successfully filed against the brand. it remains commonly prescribed on the open market. you switched brands a few times before oral contraceptives stopped being in any way effective. your doctor just, like, shrugged and said you could try a different brand again.
and the thing is that you're a feminist. you know from your own experience that birth control can be lifesaving, and that even when used for birth control - it is necessary healthcare. you have seen it save so many people from such bad situations, yourself included. it is critical that any person has access to birth control, and you would never suggest that we just get rid of all of it.
you were a little skeeved out by the implant (heard too many bad stories about it) and figured - okay, iud. it was some of the worst pain you've ever fucking experienced, and you did it with a small number of tylenol in your system (3), like you were getting your bikini line waxed instead of something practically sewn into your body.
and what's wild is that because sometimes it isn't a painful insertion process, it is vanishingly rare to find a doctor that will actually numb the area. while your doctor was talking to you about which brand to choose, you were thinking about the other ways you've been injured in your life. you thought about how you had a suspicious mole frozen off - something so small and easy - and how they'd numbed a huge area. you thought about when you broke your wrist and didn't actually notice, because you'd thought it was a sprain.
your understanding of pain is that how the human body responds to injury doesn't always relate to the actual pain tolerance of the person - it's more about how lucky that person is physically. maybe they broke it in a perfect way. maybe they happened to get hurt in a place without a lot of nerve endings. some people can handle a broken femur but crumble under a sore tooth. there's no true way to predict how "much" something actually hurts.
in no other situation would it be appropriate for doctors to ignore pain. just because someone can break their wrist and not feel it doesn't mean no one should receive pain meds for a broken wrist. it just means that particular person was lucky about it. it should not define treatment.
in the comments of videos about IUDs, literally thousands of people report agony. blinding, nauseating, soul-crushing agony. they say things like i had 2 kids and this was the worst thing i ever experienced or i literally have a tattoo on my ribs and it felt like a tickle. this thing almost killed me or would rather run into traffic than ever feel that again.
so it's either true that every single person who reports severe pain is exaggerating. or it's true that it's far more likely you will experience pain, rather than "just a pinch." and yet - there's nothing fucking been done about it. it kind of feels like a shrug is layered on top of everything - since technically it's elective, isn't it kind of your fault for agreeing to select it? stop being fearmongering. stop being defensive.
you fucking needed yours. you are almost weirdly protective of it. yours was so important for your physical and mental health. it helped you off hormonal birth control and even started helping some of your symptoms. it still fucking hurt for no fucking reason.
once while recovering from surgery, they offered you like 15 days of vicodin. you only took 2 of them. you've been offered oxy for tonsillitis. you turned down opioids while recovering from your wisdom tooth extraction. everything else has the option. you fucking drove yourself home after it, shocked and quietly weeping, feeling like something very bad had just happened. the nurse that held your hand during the experience looked down at you, tears in her eyes, and said - i know. this is cruelty in action.
and it's fucked up because the conversation is never just "hey, so the way we are doing this is fucking barbaric and doctors should be required to offer serious pain meds" - it's usually something around the lines of "well, it didn't kill you, did it?"
you just found out that removing that little bitch will hurt just as bad. a little pinch like how oral contraceptives have "some" serious symptoms. like your life and pain are expendable or not really important. like maybe we are all hysterical about it?
hysteria comes from the latin word for uterus, which is great!
you stand here at a crossroads. like - this thing is so important. did they really have to make it so fucking dangerous. and why is it that if you make a complaint, you're told - i didn't even want you to have this in the first place. we're told be careful what you wish for. we're told that it's our fault for wanting something so illict; we could simply choose not to need medication. that maybe if we don't like the scraps, we should get ready to starve.
we have been saying for so long - "i'm not asking you to remove the option, i'm asking you to reconsider the risk." this entire time we hear: well, this is what you wanted, isn't it?
#where's the word woman in this u might wonder if u suck#good news i am nonbinary and have a uterus so that is something that can happen#im also gender fluid tho which means im immune to certain psychic damage bc if u call me a woman i'll be like <3 okay <3#writeblr#the tightrope of ''ppl need access to this''#and like also#''what the fuck is going on over there'' is like. so difficult as an activist#i was <3 punctured <3 during mine#and almost bled out on the table :) they didn't have anyone standing by bc it's ''just a little insertion''#so i started crashing and i vaguely remember apologizing for the fuss as i heard my heart rate monitor start going <3 tachycardic <3#she wasn't even a bad doctor tbh#ps btw the reason i even HAD a heart monitor is that i have a genuine heart condition and they knew GOING IN that there was a chance#i'd crash on the table#like my heart just likes to do fun little tricks and <3 stop working <3 (i do not want to discuss the specifics ty i am okay im ontop of it#and they were like 'oh u will be fine' and then she did do a puncture thru my uterus . pop!#and im sitting there dizzy and feeling my heartrate start to drop bc it feels almost. beautiful. like. the whole ground just#woosh! out from under you. and shit is like grey's anatomy. i'm looking up at her grey eyes#she's old she wears this nice shawl she's like got Cool Lesbian vibes and people are sprinting into the room#from other parts of the clinic unrelated to me. while the monitor is like a little aria singing#and shes like hey youre okay stay awake stay with me something went wrong we have to keep trying#and i remember thinking - i was trying to think of nice things. i have so many beautiful places that now overlap#with this terrible memory#i became dimly aware that there was too much on her wrists and hands. like#that was too many liters#and then when they had finished all this. i packed up and drove myself home#i have had (bad thing) happen to me. and the same feeling happened after#that numb almost lamblike bleating. you cry without noise. like. ur body is so shocked and ur mind so empty#you just stare at the road and everything everything is happening behind glass and static and you are standing so far away from it#while you hold ur hands at 10 and 2. and something in ur brain is SCREAMING at you - IT WAS BAD AND IT SHOULDNT HAVE HAPPENED#and ur just watching the alarms in your body going off and youre thinking. a little pinch! ha. i think i just lost something important.
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heartss4val · 4 months
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𐑺 ˖ ࣪ ࿐ྂ I WANNA BE YOURS | percy jackson x gn!reader
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percy jackson looks at you like you were the one who put the stars in the sky.
the son of poseidon gazes at you with so much awe and admiration in his eyes that most people would think you had just defeated a minotaur with your bare hands, or cured cancer or saved the world from total destruction, something that would be remembered for centuries to come. but in reality, all you did was toss a few nuts to the squirrels that scurried around camp. percy jackson looks at you in such a way that even aphrodite herself would point and squeal.
though, he'd never admit to that. the only telltale sign of his infatuation is the rosy tint that creeps up the tips of his ears every time you you pass by, and his lips that struggle to stay in a straight line whenever you flash him that smile—the one that makes his heart leap up and into his throat. even after four years of friendship, percy still hasn't figured out how to sit next to you and not be totally in love with everything you do.
it's as though you have some sort of magic power over him—a power that he's powerless to resist. and as much as he'd like to deny it, he secretly revels in the feeling.
but percy jackson would never confess his desires for you—not when kronos is still actively seeking to wipe out the demigod population. he can't afford to display any signs of weakness.
but it's worth it, he thinks, to risk everything just to wrap his arms around you and plant a kiss on your lips that would set the world on fire. yet he knows he can't—not without endangering you. not without putting you in harm's way. so why is it so unbearable to imagine life without you, when you were never really his to begin with?
and in those moments, when his mind is consumed with thoughts of you, memories of your touch and your gaze playing on repeat in his mind, he's left thinking, 'did i imagine it?' did he dream up the way your touch lingered on his arm as you adjusted his armor? the way you looked at him across the dining pavilion before turning away, as if you'd been caught in the act of something secret and sweet? he must have, right? because you would never look at someone like him with such tenderness. not at someone hot-headed and impulsive, someone with so many rough edges. no, you couldn't have looked at him like that. it must all be in his head.
you couldn't have looked at him the same way he looks at you.
despite his best efforts to conceal it, percy's convinced that everyone can see right through him. he knows that everyone can see right through him. the teasing from his fellow campers has been relentless—nicknames hurled his way, each one more unflattering than the last. romeo, hopeless romantic, loverboy..
loverboy.
he's no loverboy. not some kind of lovesick puppy at the mercy of some unattainable crush. no, that nickname is only reserved for the truly whipped, those who are wrapped around someone's finger, glued to their side at all times. he's no..
and then his head snaps up at the sound of your voice, suddenly alert. and there you are, all dazzling and gorgeous, a beacon in a sea of identical orange t-shirts and jeans. you stand out as though a spotlight has been trained on you alone. which is weird because to most people you're just another camper. albeit, an incredibly beautiful camper, but still, just a camper. so why is he so infatuated with you, specifically?
maybe he is a loverboy.
the realization hits him like a ton of bricks, and he almost groans out loud. can't he just carve his heart out and be done with it at this point? isn't that what the poets do?
but since he never really cared for those dead old men taught in school, like edward allan poe or whatever his name was, he'll settle for just daydreaming now. he'll settle for stolen glances across the room and the brush of your hands as you reach for a book. he'll settle for relishing in your little touches and how your lips shine in blueberry chapstick until he's ready. he'll admire the curve of your nose and the triumphant hugs you give him after your team wins capture the flag. he'll settle for it until it's not enough anymore. he'll settle for it until he needs more.
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The Correct Measurements (Girls Night series) - Max Verstappen
Summary: Max's girlfriend is having a girls night which includes each friend making their own cocktail for everyone to try and while Max tries to stay locked out of the way. But when he hears bickering, that's when he decides to "get some water" and investigate.
Also just a preface for the series, each fic will feature the reader and three friends. I am going to name the friends just becuase I hate the idea of using y/f/n and trying to figure out a way to make it work for three different friends.
Friends names for Max's fic - Rose, Emilia, Josie (used a name generator for these, soz if you hate them)
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"Hello, ladies." Max greets having been allowed the luxury of greeting people into his house.
"Hey, Maxie. I hope you're not planning on sticking around." Emilia teases making him force a smile.
He's not exactly excited about being forced into his sim room while they get drunk. Especially because Josie and Emilia have especially high tolerance for alcohol and tend to try and make y/n and Rose keep up with them.
They're very nice sober but a bit wild while drunk. Plus it's a rare day off and he's not getting to spend it with y/n like he would prefer to.
"Be nice." Y/n laughs hugging each of the girls. "Max knows the rules for girls night. You guys go on, set up for the cocktails. I'll herd him into the sim room."
She finishes hugging the girls then moving to Max who smiles at her as she kisses him.
"Come on, champ. Let's get you on with the Red Line team. I bet they can't wait to be destroyed by you." Y/n smiles taking his hand and leading him through. "We'll behave by the way."
"I know." Max murmurs but sounds entirely unconvinced. "Please take it easy, last time Em got you to drink like she does. You took 3 days to recover."
"I'll be fine. We're making two cocktails each and no extra shots in the cocktails. House rule." Y/n promises him earning a hum before they're in his sim room and she kisses him lightly. "I love you."
"I love you too." Max smiles getting another kiss before she walks out closing the door and leaving him to sigh looking at his sim set up which usually he's happy to see and get on but right now he does sort of have a little bit of fomo.
-
It was about an hour of managing to focus on the screens before Max couldn't stop himself and he finally got up deciding he needed water and they couldn't stop him from getting it.
"Max!" Rose smiles brightly, clearly already drunk while the rest of the girls stop bickering and turn.
"Max..." Y/n starts ready to tell him off.
"I just need some water." Max states in his own defense before catching sight of the cocktails. "That looks nice."
"Do you want to try?" Y/n asks, always ready to offer Max something to get his opinion. Even with the girls around, Max's opinion means more than anyone else's in the room.
Max tries the light yellow cocktail and actually it's not too bad. Maybe a bit too sweet for his taste but not the worst drink he's had.
"It's nice." Max nods then smiling. "Whose is this one?"
"Mine." Emilia smiles brightly. "It's a pineapple vodka cocktail. Has some raspberry liqueur and vanilla in it too."
"Still getting your water?" Josie questions smirking slightly since she seems to be the most awake.
"Yes." Max nods as Rose and Emilia pick up their drinks to move back into the living room, Josie following and leaving y/n with her boyfriend.
"Max, are you feeling a bit left out?" Y/n asks after a few beats of silence while he moves to the fridge for some water. "You know, if you wanted...I might be able to talk them into letting you join just this one time-but you'd have to make cocktails with us."
"I can make cocktails." Max nods which makes her smile.
"I'll ask."
"Ok." Max smiles as she quickly moves over kissing him and practically giving him a shot of alcohol from the residue on her lips. There's definitely no way they are using the correct measurements, Emilia likes to use the "two shots of vodka" meme from vine as point of reference of how to measure out a shot (I really hope you guys know what I'm referring too). But she rushes off and he sighs awaiting the verdict.
"Fine, but he's gotta make 3 cocktails and they can't be repeated of what we've already done." Josie exclaims very dramatically.
Max isn't the biggest drinker because of his job, but he does know how to make a cocktail.
"You're in for the night." Y/n grins moving towards him and picking up the drink she'd left behind. "You have to drink mine for this round to catch up."
Max moves through and while he really wasn't sure what to expect. The bitching between the girls about anything and anyone is actually something he's more than happy to be a witness to, especially because it's a side to y/n that she seems to keep as an exclusive to the girls.
Eventually the Pineapple Vodka cocktail is finished by everyone and Rose gets up to have her turn making a cocktail while y/n leans back on Max for a moment.
"Enjoying yourself? You've been uncharacteristically quiet."
"I'm quiet because I'm enjoying myself. You girls are like a tv show or something." Max laughs earning a hum.
"Can someone help me?!" Rose calls out making Max get up quickly, stealing a kiss as he manages to push y/n back down on the ground.
"You know, he's not the worst addition to the night. His reactions that he thinks we can't see are really adding to the stories." Josie comments earning a smile from y/n.
"And from Rose, we have a Rosé sangria!" Rose beams as her and Max carry the glasses in. Handing them out before they sit down again.
As the cocktails continue and Max takes his turns he does begin to get more talkative, asking questions about whoever the girls are gossiping about.
"Rose, that's diabolical. You can't sleep with your companies rival COO. You'll be like fired." Josie cackles while Max is stunned to a silence since Rose out of all three of his girlfriend's friends, seems to be the sweetest and most innocent in nature. "Unless you're using him for a job..."
"First of all, it wasn't intentional. Second, I'm getting a promotion at work with a very generous raise. I don't need to sleep with someone for a job." Rose scoffs, now slightly more loose lipped with a bit more of an attitude now they've hit the 7th cocktail.
Max is almost certain they aren't going to hit the 11 cocktail count since they already need to aid each other in bathroom trips and Max had taken y/n back and forth at least four times now.
It suddenly dawns on him just how quiet and unmoving his girlfriend has been for a good 15 minutes and looking down at where she's resting on him, he has to smile a little seeing she's asleep.
"Oh dear, y/n's fallen asleep." Max states making the girls who started interrogating Rose about the details of her promotion and raise making sure it met their standards of an acceptable salary for the job she was being bumped up to.
"Oh...poor thing. She never can keep up." Emilia smiles, surprisingly always softening up the drunker she gets.
"I want to wake her up because we're not finished. But she's already drooling on you so I think it's far too late for that." Josie comments then sighing. "Ok, we'll make one last cocktail. Then bedtime. Are you staying out here with us or going to bed, Maxie?"
"I'll stay out here, but I might take y/n to get changed and get into something less...drool covered for myself after the last drink."
He also wants to get y/n to come around enough that he can get her to drink some water at least.
So after one more cocktail from Emilia as possibly the least incapacitated and of course a lot more yapping about anything that they can think of. Max finally gets to lift y/n's relaxed body up from his lap, somewhat stirring her enough for her to question what's happening.
"You need to get changed, baby. And have some water."
Probably not the end to girls night that y/n had envisioned, not even how Max had imagined his evening would go but he certainly has no regrets about it. In fact, he'd deny it to anyone beyond the girls if asked. But he had fun.
"Ok, drink first just in case you're drunker than I think." Max states since if she immediately struggled to actually keep the water in her mouth.
Thankfully she manages a couple mouthfuls, slightly more awake and aware of her surroundings while Max is beginning to feel that last cocktail make a really good effect as a night cap.
"I'm glad you were part of girls night. Even if Emilia and Josie are definitely not going to let it happen again."
"It was nice to get a peak at what happens all the times I'm not there." Max shrugs with a smile. "And they said I can sleep out in the living room with you."
"Good, I want Maxie cuddles." Y/n smiles earning a grin.
They do manage to brush teeth and change before they head out and lie down on the makeshift beds. Though it takes no one very long to get themselves to sleep with the amount of alcohol in their blood. It's a surprise they came back to find any of her friends still fighting off the sleep that is clearly coming over them.
"Alright, girlies. Good night." Rose smiles as they finally turn off the lights earning shared goodnights from everyone else.
"Max, you better not snore." Josie states suddenly after a few beats of silence only for there to be a swoosh and thud. "HEY!"
"That was me. Shut up, because you snore and we're not going to fall for you trying to blame it on Max." Rose giggles while y/n's feels herself squished in Max's arms and within seconds the world has fell away from her into an alcohol induced depth.
Taglist: @namgification @hiireadstuff @jsjcue @geniusalpaca @itsjustkhaos @llando4norris @partyinpitlane @lpab @xoscar03
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murdrdocs · 11 months
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just read all your imagines and they are so good!! just on here to req anything hobie brown related cos god that man is so fine. maybe like a one-shot where they are fwb cos hobie doest do labels but gets jealous and then asks reader to be his gf and then shows her off to everyone. just like really anything u want to write tbh ✨✨
end of line | h. brown
description. being friends with benefits with your best friend, hobie brown, is fun and all, but you start to realize that maybe firm labels suit you better than whatever this is
includes. slight smut SUGGESTIVE 16+, fem!reader referred to as “girl”, fluff, sweet!hobie, pav gwen and miles mention, rockstar!hobie
a/n: i have no words this was supposed to be uploaded like a week ago but then i went to disney so ... sorry yall. also not edited well bc ... disney. edit: title from the song by daft punk bc tron <3
word count: 1.7k+
things are still in your bedroom. they always are right before he arrives.
you're not a psychic, nor do you have a "spider-sense" (which, with the creepy-sixth sense way hobie described it, you don't want one either), but you like to think that you can tell when he'll come by.
nights when you haven't heard much from him, but the sirens seemed to never stop outside, were usually when your window would creek as it slid up.
you listen out for the sound now as you finish painting your last nail. you'd used the quick dry polish tonight, in hopes that you wouldn't have a repeat of last time, when your fingernails weren't dried but hobie was incredibly impatient and when you were done, you'd realized that your right ring and pinkie fingers were smudged.
the bottle's closed, you'd blown on your nail to ensure it dried, and that's when your window slides open.
there's no point in looking back at him when he tumbles into the room. he starts mumbling complaints as soon as the window's closed, the sound of his shoes unlacing padding his words, something about some common thief who hobie was going to let go but then he went and messed with the lady on the street and her cat.
you'd lost the tail end of his words whenever he started walking closer to you. you sat up straighter, pushed everything out of the way, and waited for him to turn your chair around.
which, when he did, you looked up at him, small smile on your lips as you stared into his deep brown eyes.
"how's your night, hm?" he asked, a courtesy before getting to the real action.
you shrugged, pretending to think. "nothing. just a lot of this."
"no smashing societal standards? picking off misogynists one by one?"
a small laugh in the form of a snort from you. "nah. figured i'd take a day off, you know?" the sarcasm dripping from your words. that's not who you were. you wish you could've been like that, could've been like hobie. but there's one spider-person for a reason.
"oh, yeah, uh-huh..." and hobie trailed off as he leaned in, pointer finger hooking under your chin to pull your lips to his.
it always felt good to kiss hobie.
you'd fantasized about it for weeks before it actually happened. he's your closest friend at the moment, and he occupied the title before this arrangement even existed. and of course you had the worry about ruining your beautiful friendship if you became more, fear that you wouldn't be able to go back and you would subsequently lose probably the best friend you've ever had.
but that was no need to worry. because while you could let hobie pull you up and lead you to your bed, sitting back and pulling you into his lap while he kissed you with a tenderness you know so well, you could also just be friends with him, sitting side by side on the couch and having a movie marathon of horrible biopics without thinking about jumping each other's bones.
there's a balance here that you could only hope would've existed.
and it's never thrown off. not even when he pulls your shirt over your head and his full lips find your nipples and the slightly-faded marks he'd left a few days ago. not even when he switches your position, laying you back and kissing down your torso until he can bury his head between your legs. not even when you whine and cry just a bit, slightly begging for him to pull his suit off so he can fuck into you in a way that only he can.
you try not to think about the equilibrium of your relationship with hobie when your legs hook around his waist and the heels of your feet dig into your lower back. you try to solely focus on the way his cock fills you up perfectly, mostly long with the right amount of girth for your walls, tip reaching deep within you in an almost mind bending way.
but you can't help but think about the way hobie doesn't do labels when he helps you to your bathroom, where he lets the shower heat up while you sit in a shirt he left behind a few days ago when he'd shown up as just hobie brown and not spiderman. you can't help but think about being hobie's girlfriend when his big, veiny hands run along your skin after the shower, smothering you in shea butter as you struggle to hold your eyes open. and you don't bother attempting to fight off the lasting thought of being hobie's while he hums an unknown song to himself with your head on his chest, the deep sound of his voice and the vibration of his chest lulling you to sleep.
you need to be someone's.
the friends with benefits scenario was fun, it worked, it was glorious, but you don't think it's for you. and labels aren't for hobie.
so, you look elsewhere.
you're at hobie's show, standing in the back of the pub with a drink you weren't interested in, with some guy you really weren't all that interested in, either. but he smelled nice, and he seemed nice, and you were just looking to broaden your horizons just a bit.
you and hobie weren't exclusive, but maybe it's a little wrong to flirt with someone else at his show. but you were slightly upset, and craving attention, so it didn't matter.
not until hobie got off stage.
it took a while for him to roam over to you, but even then you were still entertaining the other guy. giggling, tilting your head, batting your eyelashes, your hip popped out and a manicure, that was still fresh, blinging as your hand rested on the bone.
he greets you with a term of endearment that he uses often, but it feels different in this circumstance. you tell yourself that it feels different because you want it to feel different.
"oi, babe! who's this bloke?"
his arm slings over your shoulder and you tense under it. your hands folding over your chest, your smile tightening a little.
“uh this is steven.” your hand reaches out to point to the man, a tight lipped smile spreading onto his lips.
“steven …” hobie repeats the name slowly, and without looking at him you can tell that he’s eyeing the guy up and down.
the air is stiff, the three of you are silent, and unfortunately, steven takes the hint to dismiss himself, and you instantly turn to hobie, a scowl on your face.
“what the fuck, hobes?” you’re pissed, but the nickname still slips off easily.
hobie shrugs and reaches into his back pocket, a cigarette appearing and he sticks it between his lips. instantly, your fingers pluck it out from his mouth, instead putting it in your own back pocket.
instead of looking upset, hobie looks amused. his hands reach out to grab your waist, and you want to give in, but you try to push his hands away instead.
hobie lets you, and you don’t know if your happy or upset with that.
“what’d you mean?”
you stare at him, deadpan, then gesture to where steven had walked away towards.
“you just cockblocked me!”
a cocky grin, almost a little condescending. “i didn’t ‘cockblock’ you, babes. you weren’t trying to get with that guy.” your eyebrow lifts and you can see realization come onto hobie’s face. “oh … you were?”
“yes! of course i was!”
“but why? you are i are together.”
“sure, hobes, but we’re not ‘together’.”
“yes we are.”
“no, we aren’t.”
“why do you think that?”
you suddenly feel a little insecure, eyes scanning the thinning crowd, ears noticing the way the volume in the pub is lowered. “because you’ve never put a label on it, bee.”
another layer of realization. hobie’s hands coming to your waist again, but this time you let him pull you in.
“i didn’t know we needed a label. but you’re my girl. and i’m your guy.”
your body heats up and you bite down onto your lower lip giddily, peeking up at hobie through your lashes.
"thought you didn't like relationships?"
"labels. i don't like labels."
there's a disruption in the atmosphere. goosebumps raise on your skin, the hair on the back of your neck sticks up, and even if you weren't aware internally, the way the magazine you were previously reading floats above the table would've tipped you off.
the portal opens shortly after, but you knew it was coming. it took hobie a while to tell you that he was spiderman, longer to convince you that he was spiderman, and a while longer to convince you of the existence society, and even though you know, you still get a little shocked whenever a portal opens.
he comes through first, thud of his heavy boots against the floor of his flat. the spoon in your mouth clings against the side of the bowl, your free hand reaches out to the tv remote to pause the episode as you look over at hobie.
"oi, didn't know you were still here." is all he says before he's walking over, pulling his mask off on the way, and leaning down. your head tilts up instantly to meet his lips in a kiss, your body warming with the way his hand pushes into the back of the couch, slender but muscular form caging you in.
you expect him to sit beside you and force you to give a recap of the episode, but he stands back, and then three other people come through the portal.
"oh ... are we expecting guests?" surprise sits in your words, the tone amplified when hobie takes your bowl of cereal out of your hands to finish it off himself.
"right," he speaks through mouthfuls, saying your name as an introduction to the other three. "this is pav, miles, and gwendy. spider people." you nod, waving at each.
"this here, is my girlfriend." three sets of spider-eyes widen with the admission and you can already sense what's coming.
"wow, you're pretty. 's nice to meet you."
"i knew it! i could sense the tension as soon as we got here."
"you have a girlfriend? wait. i thought you didn't like labels."
a small smile on your face as you tuck your hands in the pocket of hobie’s sweatshirt that you wear.
in coordination learned from how close you two are, you speak at the same time.
"he doesn't like consistency."
"don't like consistency, mate."
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sttm99 · 4 months
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Bakugo understands that he spends a lot of money on you for just being his personal assistant. But he can't help it.
You honestly deserve it. You're smart, responsible, diligent. You're a hard worker with principles, and your work ethic is something he respects.
It didn't matter how many people were against him promoting you from secretary to PA so soon in your career. Your work was top notch, and you kept him organised.
Sure, you were pretty as well, a sight for sore eyes, really. But that wasn't his fault, was it? It wasn't your fault either.
It's not like you came into work every day with full glam, diamond earrings, or elaborate hairstyles.
It had pissed him off at first, when people demeaned you or underestimated your work because of your looks, especially when he knew you worked so hard so you wouldn't be considered some dumb corporate bimbo.
But now? Now he loved it. He loved when he had clients over, and they'd do a double take when he sent for you to take notes or deliver documents to his table.
He'd noticed the modesty with which you'd dressed when you first started working for him, how you tried to dim yourself with drab colours that obviously washed you out, or plain hairstyles.
Not like it stopped anybody from being able to tell how pretty you were.
But after, when you'd started garnering his attention and racking up more bonuses from your diligence, he began noticing you wearing nicer things.
Of course, you had to up your wardrobe once you were promoted to the role of Personal Assistant to one of the biggest heroes in Japan. But that wasn't it.
Bakugo loved seeing you walk in with a new shirt or new shoes or new earrings after he'd rewarded you a bonus or a pay increase. There was a sort of high he got, knowing that you took care of yourself with the money he gave you.
Oh, he spoilt you rotten.
Month end rewards became the norm for you. He just closed a hefty advertising deal? Best believe you were getting a cut out of that. He was given a bottle of champagne as a gift? You're drinking it with him in his office.
Sure, it may have seemed a bit inappropriate to some people; him locking the doors and closing the windows, and having you sit on his lap prettily whilst he poured it out into a flute for you.
Sure, it was inappropriate for him to have his hands up your skirt as you recounted the month end figures for him, but you were comfortable that way. He was, too. Oh, so comfortable with your hands inside his trousers and his teasing at the lining of your panties.
He was just taking care of his best employee.
And maybe he did spend a lot of money on you, but you had to keep up appearances. He needed you looking your best when you were next to him.
It wasn't his fault you were so beautiful that brands reached out to him to get you to model for then after seeing you appear in some pictures by his side.
It wasn't his fault that he couldn't get anyone else to come with him to the Hero Gala. Besides, you're meant to be with him during these things to take notes for him. So having you as his date was basically killing two birds with one stone.
"Your assistant's fucking sexy," Kaminari whispered into Bakugo's ear, both of them watching you go to order a drink for your boss.
Bakugo smirked to himself, his eyes raking over your body, clad in the tight fitting dress he'd bought for you to wear. He'd also bought the earrings you had on, and the shoes and the necklace. Sure, it cost him quite a lot, but he just couldn't help it when you looked so good.
"She's single, isn't she?"
Now, that had him snapping his head in Kaminari's direction. "Don't even fucking think about."
Kaminari whined, "But why? She's your assistant, not your sister or your girlfriend."
"She's my assistant," Bakugo seethed, standing up from his seat. "She's my employee, and I won't have you lowering her efficiency." He murmured as he made his way to where you were.
You smiled brightly as you turned around to see him, handing him the second glass of champagne in your hands. "You look like you'd rather be somewhere else." You laughed softly.
He grinned down at you before downing the drink quickly. "I would," he said before dropping his glass back on the bar. "Come on."
He spoilt you rotten, but he couldn't help it. You looked so beautiful in your tight dress and pretty hair and beautiful face.
Sure, being seated on the sink and having your legs spread before his lips in the bathroom at the Hero Gala may have been a tad inappropriate, but how could he stop himself?
You were quivering for him, thighs pressing down and shaking on either side of his head, and your fingers gripping harshly at his hair, pulling him even closer as you rutted your heat against his lips.
He let out a desperate groan, burying his face deeper into your cunt, eating you out shamelessly, hungrily.
"Fuuck..." He growled into you.
You'd been so shy the first time he had his way with you, refusing to touch him, grind on him, behaving so meek and cute.
Now look at you, so selfish and desperate, almost suffocating him as he feasted. He spoilt you rotten, sure, but you deserved every morsel of it.
"Katsuki..." You whined desperately, your back arching off the mirror, the hand not pulling at his hair tightly gripping the edge of the counter. "Katsuki, I'm so close... I'm so fucking close, baby-"
His hands dug into the flesh of your ass, pulling your harsher into him, your clit pressing against his nose as his tongue made a meal of you. He was always so desperate for it, digging the wet muscle so far into your pussy you saw stars.
And he was messy too, his saliva and your arousal staying your thighs, dripping from the marble counter unto the ground as he ate from you.
Anyone who came in after would probably be able to tell from the smell of the bathroom alone. The cum leaking unto the floor would only solidify it.
But the thought of someone finding out that your boss had his face buried deep in your pussy wasn't exactly what you were thinking about when you came for him, hard and rough, your hips shaking and raising off the counter as you rode out your high.
"We shouldn't be doing such during events, sir." You whispered to him as you both walked down the corridors back into the hall where the gala was being held.
He had his large palm over your ass, groping you just in the dark of the hallway, letting go just as you stepped into the crowded hall.
"Just be a good girl and wait for me to fuck you on the way home, hm?" He smirked at you, a small sheen still visible on his lips.
He never cleaned his mouth properly after eating you out during such events. It was inappropriate, sure, but he just couldn't help himself.
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kisses4choso · 1 year
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#PRETENDING TO BE YOUR BF!
SYNOPSIS: you're in a sticky situation and need somebody to help you get a creepy guy away from you. are they up to the challenge? OP CHARACTERS: ZORO & SANJI WARNINGS: nicknames?
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a creep had been following you around the town the strawhat crew had been visting, and nothing you said would keep him away. going into stores and diving into crowds, you hoped maybe you'd lose him, but he proved to be extremely stubborn. "like i said sir, i have a boyfriend!" you had told him for the hundreth time, but he didn't believe you. "c'mon, we both know you're lying, sweet thing. just give me a chance, yeah? i'll show you a nice time," he said, and you were just about to start yelling until you spotted--
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ZORO. he had no idea you were around, as he had gone into an antique shop not too long ago to find new sword sheaths. even with his back turned towards you, you decided he was your best shot. you made a bee-line for the shop and the guy followed closely behind.
"like i said, sir, i have a boyfriend," you said, gesturing towards zoro in hopes his stature would scare the creep off. however, the pirate didn't turn around, engrossed by the sheaths and other looms in the shop.
the stranger frowned at you, clearly not believing your lie. it hurt you to have to rely on zoro, as he wasn't the brightest in times like these, but it was all or nothing.
"zoro!" you exclaimed, and he turned immediately at your voice, taking in your desperate look. "you said you would catch up with me, i've been waiting for you."
he was unsure how to respond, gulping as you latched onto his arm, and he almost expressed his concerns, but he was beat to it by the stranger.
"this is your boyfriend?" the guy asked, still a bit skeptical but intimidated nonetheless.
the pirate looked the villager up and down, trying to figure out how to react appropriately to this. no matter how much he racked his brain, he couldn't find an answer. however, if you had been as bold as to claim zoro as yours, he trusted you had a reason to do so.
"and who are you?" your --pretend-- boyfriend asked, guarding you with an arm as you stepped behind him, away from the stranger's much-too-curious eyes.
before the creep could answer, you decided to torment him just a bit, "i dunno, he's been following me for hours now. i was scared."
zoro's gaze hardened at that, the grip he held on his swords tightening, "is that so?"
"no! no, i'm sorry, man. i didn't know- listen, i'll leave, alright?" and as soon as the words came out of the villager's mouth, he was gone.
"sorry, zoro. he scared the shit out of me, i thought maybe i'd find sanji in the crowds somewhere to help me, but there's so many blonde people here, you have no idea."
he nodded slowly, very aware of your arms wrapped around his and your slightly trembling fingers. he took a deep breath before turning back around to sort through all the trinkets he'd found.
"it's not your fault. but, maybe we should travel in pairs from now on. i don't want another idiot bothering you until you're practically shaking."
"i am not shaking," you said, to which he sighed, gathering his items and leaving a few coins on the counter. you continued, "but you're pretty scary, y'know?"
"i would hope so, in situations like these," he gave you a lopsided grin, "but seriously, we should just travel together. i don't mind playing pretend for you."
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SANJI. he was busying himself at a food market, bargaining with the poor vendor for a discount. he turned around before you even called him, having a sixth sense for your presence. he smiled widely at you, calling your name loudly.
"sanji, my darling," you cringed at your own voice, the sickly sweet nickname dropping hesitantly from your tongue, "i missed you."
the cook didn't miss a beat, "i missed you much more! what do you think, gorgeous? broccoli or cauliflower?"
"uh, both?" you said, still spotting the man now on the opposite side of the street, watching intently.
your blonde "boyfriend" nodded, turning his attention to the vendor he had previously been arguing with, "perfect, i'll get both, ma'am!"
you saw the stranger slowly come closer towards you, and you decided to take action by hugging sanji tightly.
he complimented you instantly on the perfume you were wearing, and he kept talking but your attention was fully on getting away from the stranger.
"sanji?" you whispered, suddenly interrupting what was probably a declaration of love, but it wasn't like that was a rare ocassion anyway.
"yes? i hate to ruin the moment but you're not usually this affectionate, not that i mind, i mean--"
keeping your position in his arms, you reached up to whisper in his ear, lips brushing his cheek from the proximity, "there's a guy that's been following me and i need your help."
he ignored the brush of your lips, an action he surely would've fainted for in any other circumstance. his energy shifted from a playful one to something much more urgent, "are you alright?"
you smiled at him, an assurance that you were fine, just freaked out. you moved away from him, opting to stand at his side and hold his arm.
"can you see him?" sanji asked, paying the lady for the vegetables he purchased and grabbing a hold of the bags you carried.
"yes, behind us, the guy in the blue shirt," you discretely pointed him out, sanji followed your gaze and he let out a laugh.
"him? he thinks he has a chance... with you? how sad. want me to go talk to him?"
you held sanji's gaze, considering his offer, but ultimately deciding against it. if it broke out into a street fight, you'd bring attention to the strawhats, and then you'd probably be reported to the marines.
"no, could you just..." you hesitated, focusing on the cigarette in between sanji's lips to distract yourself from the creep's stare, "pretend you're madly in love with me, or something?"
the cook took the cigarette from his mouth and dropped it to the ground, putting it out so you wouldn't be bothered by the smell of smoke, "you're making it too easy for me. guess my acting skills won't be needed this time, hm?"
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komelrebi-san · 5 months
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gojo satoru is such a dilf, oh lord
oh no, i'm so whipped for this guy i think i might be mentally insane because how does he have the ability to make me so delusional can someone get me a gojo where can i get a gojo
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tw: MDNI!, age gap, single-handsome-neighbour trope, gojo is a rich single dad and his daughter is so damn cute, dom! gojo, fingering, slight choking, drinking, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap kiddos!!), size kink, tummy bulge, daddy+mommy dynamics, oral f! receiving, praise kink, semi-public sex (idk if it counts??), lmk if there's more!
don't like, don't read.
a/n: oops, sorry this was accidentally a bit longer than i thought it would be lmfao. pls comment/dm if you want this to be made into a full oneshot!
you, fresh out of college and just landed a well-paying job, managed to afford a house in a newly built expensive condominium. the apartment next door was uninhabited, as far as you knew. though, you were told otherwise when a little girl tugged on your hand as you walked by the playground in your condo, saying that she didn't know where her daddy was.
perhaps, for a second, you'd cursed to yourself at how careless and heartless the parent must be to have neglected their own child, especially a child as cute as this one! her hair was white as snow, shining gently in the sun; her eyes were a sharp blue, twinkling cheekily as she tugged on your fingers with her small hands. feeling yourself completely beaten by her puppy eyes, you decide to stay with her until her father arrives.
and oh, goodness, to think that all negative thoughts you had about the parent would completely disappear at one glance.
because fuck, he's gorgeous, he's the prettiest man you've ever met. and conveniently, his daughter happened to be the spitting image of him.
but wait, he lives next door! he just moved in.
at first, he was just a friend - a soft-hearted man who looks way too young to be in his early thirties: the kind that always called you over to hangout when his daughter comes because he knew you adored her chubby cheeks and grabby hands; the kind that always offered to help you with work and groceries and whatever that needed fixing in your house; the kind that always cooks for you or buys an extra serving of food on his way home from work.
but somewhere along the lines of knowing him, something sparked between the both of you (and it may or may not have been first planted in both of your minds by his fatally cute daughter, when she asked if 'the pretty lady next door will be moving in').
but it probably started on the night when he put his daughter to bed slightly later than usual, and invited you over for a drink.
there's nothing wrong with that...right?
wrong!
maybe it was the alcohol in your system, maybe it was the yearning for affection, maybe it was the ache for a proper relationship. but you'd told him what happened when he asked why your hand kept going to your neck when there's nothing there.
cheeks flushed, you'd told him how your ex cheated on you with one of your closest friends from highschool. and somehow you can't stop reaching for the necklace that you used to never take off, the one he gave you for your one-year anniversary.
and sometime after that, it led to you sitting in gojo's lap, lips against his with his large hands dangerously low on your hips. sure, it felt wrong because he already has a daughter whom you can't adore more than you already do, it felt wrong because he was like, what, 10 years older than you? and it also felt wrong because you're sure you shouldn't be kissing him when his daughter is sleeping peacefully in her bedroom just down the corridor.
but hell, it felt good too. because god, you swear this man is so damn fine - his eyes in the prettiest shade of blue possible, his soft white hair, his tall lean figure that he hasn't failed to maintain despite being a single dad in his early thirties, his large hands and, oh goodness, his voice. you're positive that you probably almost died on the spot when you saw him in a suit, veiny hands reaching to tug his tie loose with an almost wolfish grin on his lips as he said hi too you.
so, in conclusion, he's the biggest dilf you've ever met and goddamn there would never be a smash or pass judgement for him, because he is and always will be smash.
(oh, and there was this once he got grumpy and pouty because of his friend that came over...what was his name again? geto, was it? anyway, geto was really nice towards you, but gojo got pissed about it. but then again, gojo looks really cute when he's angry.)
and so, it happened.
---
dilf! gojo that never fails to give you the sweetest compliments and cutest pet names that leaves you blushing profusely. oh, he's such a menace, he thinks that you're so cute when you blush so he just ends up teasing you all the time. it's never 'y/n', it's always gotta be 'sweetheart' or 'honey' or 'cutie', or at the very very least 'n/n-chan'.
dilf! gojo that thinks it feels so natural to call you and his daughter 'his girls', curtsy of that one time when you dozed off with his daughter on your lap as you babysat her. 'my little girls look so adorable,' he'd say, sitting next to you while swinging an arm around your shoulders and pulling you into him.
dilf! gojo that is simply casually affectionate towards those close to him, and it multiplied when it came to you, it just felt so natural. forehead kisses, head pats, hair ruffles (oh god, his big hands, sheesh). it felt right to sling an arm around your shoulder or around your waist.
dilf! gojo that loves hugging you - it's not even that sexual, he just loves having you close to him, feeling your warmth and your sweet scent envelope him, feeling your body right up against his. he thinks that you fit perfectly in his arms (bonus! if you're short, bc he likes to prop his chin on your head).
dilf! gojo that insists you call him 'satoru'.
dilf! gojo that just simply can't stop thinking about you after that kiss, because holy fuck your lips taste so good, felt so soft against his. you looked so small and delicate in his lap, he thinks he can't possibly forget about the sight. you look so pretty when you're blushing and tugging him in for another kiss, wait no, you look so pretty all the time.
dilf! gojo who doesn't fail to notice how you got upset when he asked you to babysit his daughter as he'd be away for the night on a date. oh, the pout you tried to hide. of course he noticed it, because he knew that you want him, and fuck, he wants you too. so bad. so, so bad (but still, you looked so terribly cute as you fixed his tie for him).
dilf! gojo that came back as early as possible, heart almost jumping out of his chest when he realised you'd already put his daughter to bed. oh, you looked so beautiful as you waited for him to come back, sat on the couch with a book in your delicate hands. and he wanted, no, needed to explain to you that you're all he wants, who the fuck cares about that girl he was set up with?
dilf! gojo that just simply couldn't hold himself back as he saw your lips part in shock at his explanation as to why the date was so boring. of course it was boring, she isn't you, and she will never be you. why would i be looking for someone else when i've got my beautiful girls waiting at home for me? he'd say. and it's true.
dilf! gojo that just climbed on top of you and smashed his lips into yours. holy shit, it felt so good, it's just like what he'd been chasing after since that drunken kiss with you on his lap.
dilf! gojo that is so intoxicated by your taste, your scent, everything about you. one his hands cupped your face, the other traced up your thighs. though, he doesn't forget to ask for your permission, a smile curving onto his lips when your hips buck up into his hand, a breathy whimper of 'yes, please' falling from your lips.
dilf! gojo that is so obsessed with the way your juices taste. just from licking his fingers, he was tempted into licking a long stripe along your folds, groaning when quiet whines and whimpers bubble up your throat. if he had the patience, he'd eat you out for hours...but not today, because his cock was so hard that it practically hurts, begging to be released from its restraints.
dilf! gojo that swore if he was any less of a man, he'd have cummed immediately as he slowly pushed his big cock inside you, groaning when you clamped down on him. ah, but you can't be too loud, because you'd wake his daughter. so he settled on wrapping a large hand around your throat, squeezing just so very slightly, his touch gentle but dominating.
dilf! gojo that possibly just got harder upon seeing your small figure beneath him, back arching up and head thrown back. there was a bulge in your tummy. fuck, you're taking me so good, sweetheart. such a good girl for me, oh shit. he'd say, lips on your neck, his other hand gripping your waist.
dilf! gojo that rutted into you harder and faster when he heard you call him daddy. fuck, everything that left your lips always sound so pretty. yeah? you want me to make you a mommy? fill your cute little pussy to the brim with my seed? yeah? you gonna be a good girl and take all my cum? you want me to breed you, yeah? he'd pant, moving his away from your throat to knead one of your tits, crushing your lips with his to muffle your moans.
dilf! gojo that came inside you with a groan, painting your insides white with his thick sticky seed, reaching for that spot deep inside your pussy that made you see stars.
dilf! gojo that thinks you look so pretty, fucked out and panting, tongue lolling out of your mouth and cunt clamping down on his dick like a vice, both your juices spilling out of you.
dilf! gojo is serious about wanting you and wanting to be with you.
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eternalxvenus · 1 month
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⇢ ˗ˏˋ broken promises pt. 2 ࿐ྂ
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summary: Rafe promised to take you out and spend your birthday with you, but you don’t hear from him all day and then suddenly he shows up at your door trying to explain. (this is part 2 to the birthday girl angst blurb! i changed the title for the series so it was more appealing)
cw: mentions of drug use, angst, nothing crazy (yet lmao)
wc: 1.2k
notes: i'm excited to write this since its my first series! lmk if there's anything you guys would wanna see in future chapters :)
previous chapters: part 1
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You wake up to your alarm droning on annoyingly and feel around aimlessly with your eyes closed to turn it off. Once you had finally woken up on your own accord, you realized you should talk to Rafe. You hadn't spoken to him or left your house the last few days. Obviously, you missed him, but you just felt so hurt and angry with him.
After getting ready and using makeup to look a little more alive and less blotchy from crying so much, you decided you'd go up to Tannyhill to try and talk to Rafe. You left your house, hopped on your bike, and started towards the estate. The whole ride there, you just kept going over what you wanted to say but nothing seemed right. Before you knew it, you were at the front entrance.
You walked inside and heard voices in the distance coming from upstairs. Once you made your way upstairs, you heard the voices more clearly coming from Rafe's room. It was Rafe and another person whose voice you couldn't pinpoint.
"Come on, man you gotta understand where I'm comin' from. I've just been stressed out. Nothing a good time won't fix."
You looked into the room and saw Rafe sitting with some guy you've never seen. There was a table in between them that had some rolled-up bills and coke sitting on it.
You walked inside the room, still unnoticed until you spoke. "Hey, Rafe."
Both of their heads snapped in your direction, and Rafe immediately shot up, walking towards you.
"Shit... I uh- I didn't know you were coming over." He looked back at the man who just sat there unbothered. "Barry, can you uh give us a minute..."
"So let me get this straight, you went to a party and got high, missed my entire birthday, and after I tell you I'm pissed off your next line of action is to get high again with your drug dealer, right?"
Before Rafe could speak, Barry grabbed his stuff and started walking out. "A'ight man hit me up when y'all are done dealing with this shit."
Rafe waited until he thought Barry was far enough before closing the door and speaking, "Can you blame me? I don't hear from you for days so I assumed you didn't wanna be with me anymore! I tried to talk to you and you straight up ignored me."
"I was angry Rafe! I just needed some time to myself. That doesn't mean I'm breaking up with you and it doesn't mean you should start doing drugs again when that is quite literally what we fought about." 
This definitely wasn't how you imagined this conversation going. You didn't want to argue with him but your pride wasn't going to let you just back down.
"If you wanted space you could've told me," he sighed. "And I am sorry that I got high at that party and I'm sorry I missed your birthday okay? I want to make it up to you."
You walked over to the bed and sat down for a moment with your head in your hands. You loved Rafe, you really did. But you didn't want him falling into his old habits and lying to you about it.
You both sat there in silence as you thought about what you should do and what you should say.
"Rafe I... I think we should just take some time apart. Get our heads straight and figure out what we want-"
He walked over and sat next to you his eyes wide. "Baby I want you, I want to be with you."
"I wanna be with you too, Rafe, but I have conditions. I don't want you doing coke anymore. I don't like the person you are when you get like that. I know you get stressed and feel like it's your only option but you have me. Or maybe try weed and see how that works for you. I also don't want you hanging with Barry anymore. Non-negotiables."
He nods "I swear I'll work on it and I'll talk to Barry. I swear."
You stand up from the bed getting ready to go out the door. "Rafe... I'm gonna go stay with my parents on the mainland for a few days. I'll be in contact but please try your best to just leave me be. Get clean, for good, and I'll let you know when I'm back and we can figure everything out. Okay?"
He shakes his head. You can see that he's angry and confused, your heart just aches. "The mainland? What- why? Just stay here, I don't understand-"
"Please, Rafe. This is what we have to do okay?"
He took a few deep breaths and ran his hands through his hair. "Okay... okay. When you get back, I'll have made it up to you. Just promise me we aren't over." 
You could see the tears that formed in his eyes and had to fight back your own. "We aren't over just yet." You gave him a kiss on the cheek before leaving his room and heading home.
⭑*•̩̩͙⊱✩•̩̩͙⊰•*⭑
You were finally off the ferry and on the mainland to stay with your parents. You really wanted to talk to your best friend to get advice so you asked her to pick you up. By the time you reached your house, she was all caught up. Your parents weren't home so you both went straight up to your childhood bedroom.
"Damn... I didn't think he got down like that." Niki looked at you slightly surprised. "Honestly though, it sounds like does care about you, even if he did fuck up."
"Yeah, I know he cares I just... I don't wanna have to worry about shit like this. Whenever he's all coked up he makes irrational and bad decisions. I'm just worried he'll do something and end up in jail or worse."
"You just have to let him know that. Make sure he knows your anger comes from a place of care. If he feels like you're just judging him, it'll probably piss him off."
You sigh and groan into your pillow. "You're right, thanks Niki."
"Don't mention it. Now, let me catch you up on the mainland gossip!" she squealed.
⭑*•̩̩͙⊱✩•̩̩͙⊰•*⭑
Niki had gone home and you were getting into bed, ready to sleep after what felt like an exceptionally long day, when your phone chimed. You looked and saw you had a text from Rafe.
Rafe: hey I just wanted to make sure you made it to the mainland safely.
You: yes I did, i'm at my parent's house, thanks for asking.
Rafe: of course, goodnight
You: goodnight
Placing your phone on the dresser, you're thankful he doesn't push the conversation further. You decide you'll only stay here for three days before going back to the island to figure things out with Rafe. You just hope he can work on staying clean and that you can go back to being together like normal. 
As you closed your eyes, ready for sleep, you heard another chime from your phone. You groaned before picking it up to check.
Topper: hey we need to talk, it's about Rafe.
part 3
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likes, comments, and blogs are greatly appreciated!
taglist: @readingsmuts @1aarii1 @bingbongbum @stargirlsturniololover @babygirl229 @poisonedsultana @rafescamshoe
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gurugirl · 1 month
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ex-boyfriend's dad!harry part 4
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Summary: You and Harry are both missing each other and despite Tyler's sudden interest in talking to you, Harry's determined to finish what you both started.
A/N: This is the final part! I have more blurbs and extras up on Patreon if you'd like to see more of them! xoxo
Word Count: 10k+
Series Warnings: explicit content, smut (including anal, rough blow jobs), age gap, angst, daddy kink, dom/sub dynamics, spanking, choking, slight degradation, use of small implements (collar and leash, anal plug)
Part 4 Warnings: 18+ only, smut (including anal sex), daddy kink, angst, age gap, sub/dom dynamics, uncomfortable confrontation, fluff!
ex-boyfriend's dad!harry masterlist
. . .
Harry didn’t want to push. He knew that you two were treading a delicate line. You were so much younger than he was and you were his son’s ex-girlfriend. This wasn’t an easy thing to navigate emotionally. He was having fun, but he hadn’t anticipated you suddenly feeling whatever it was you were.
He thought maybe he’d done something wrong at first. He thought maybe he moved the scene along too quickly because he had been eager to get to the good part. He couldn’t wait to press his cock into your other hole. You wanted it so bad and he really wanted it too.
But of course, he wanted it. He was a man who loved the female form. A man who enjoyed sex. Kinky sex. A man who adored anal sex as long as the receiver adored it just as much. So maybe that’s what it was. Perhaps he rushed you along too quickly.
So if you needed space to think about what had happened, he’d give it to you. But what he wouldn’t do was pretend nothing had ever happened between you. That would be too easy. To have a fun little thing with a beautiful younger woman and then suddenly back up and cool off and then – poof – strangers.
He could let you ghost him. He could move on and chalk up the time you spent together as just a little fun fling. No one would ever need to know. That would certainly be tidier. And he’d be able to maintain the relationship with his son as it was before you’d come along. It could just be a fun little secret that he looked back on fondly as he moved on with his life.
He could do that. But he wasn’t going to do that.
Why? Because somewhere along the way he accidentally started to let his big, heavy emotions come alive with you. It was an accident. But he couldn’t help it. Harry’d always been a lover. Someone who enjoyed sex, sure… but he was also someone who enjoyed the relationship that went with sex just as much.
And it wasn’t like he hadn’t had easy flings before; One-night stands and no strings attached relationships. But that wasn’t always possible with him. It wasn’t possible to feel nothing with you. It was quite the opposite.
He started imagining your smile and the way you made him laugh while he was doing mundane things like laundry or typing up an email at work. He began to imagine you waking up in his bed every morning with your croaky little voice and sleep lines on your face smelling like warm sheets and that unique scent that was just… you. He would be in the middle of watching something on television and feel the need to text you so you could turn it on and watch it too because he knew you’d love it.
So yeah. He started to really like you. As more than he should. It stung him a little to know you needed space to figure out whatever it was that went wrong. But he wasn’t going to stay away forever. He’d let you process but he had things he needed you to know and he’d never forgive himself if he didn’t at least tell you what those things were. You’d probably reject it all. You’d probably tell him that wasn’t what this was at all. You’d probably end it right then and there and that would be okay. If you didn’t feel the way he did that would be fair enough, Harry figured. But he wasn’t going to let things fade away and fizzle out. He was going to make you hear him out and if you didn’t like it then he’d step back and respect your wishes.
“Think I’m gonna call Y/n,” Tyler spoke as he walked into the kitchen behind Harry.
He turned to look at his son with confusion, “Why?”
He shrugged, “I feel like breaking up was a mistake. She probably regrets it too. I’ve been thinking a lot and I feel like I kind of just threw away everything because I was too scared to try stuff with her. I don’t know if I’ll ever find someone like her again. I was talking to Jay about it and he told me I was an idiot for letting her go like that. He said that a lot of girls don’t even really enjoy sex that much and if I had to pick between someone that’s into all kinds of weird things and someone that’s not into anything…” Tyler sat down at the kitchen table as he looked at Harry, “… that I might be better off with someone like Y/n. Because she loved sex. That’s for sure.”
Harry sighed and shook his head as he looked out the window over his sink. His son was still so stuck on the wrong reasons for your breakup. You didn’t just break up with him because you were sexually incompatible. You broke up with him because he was kind of a dick to you. Jealous all the time, manipulative. But of course, Tyler didn’t know his dad knew some of those details. You had told those things to Harry.
“She was a great girl, Ty. Do you think that’ll be enough for her to see you again?” Harry swallowed. He hated this. Hated that his son still had feelings for you. Hated that he missed you so bad and it’d only been two days. Hated that you hadn’t called or texted.
“I hope so. I miss her, ya know? Tried seeing this one girl a couple of weeks ago but there was just no comparison. Kept thinking of the way Y/n did certain things a lot better. I still love her too. I have to at least give it a shot.”
“You seemed so upset by her when she broke up with you. Kind of surprised by this a little.”
He really didn’t want Tyler calling you and mucking things up. It was selfish of Harry to think the way he was but if Tyler was still in love with you and tried reaching out that could be it for Harry. That would just complicate things further. But what could he do really?
“I was mad at first but I think the time apart helped me a little. And maybe her too. Maybe she’s missed me just as much, ya know? And she’ll want to compromise a little? Like we were together for 2 years. Almost two years. It would have been two years tomorrow actually so I was thinking about just giving it a shot. I’ll see if she wants to meet up tomorrow or something.” Tyler looked at Harry, “Should I get her flowers? Maybe make some grand gesture to show her how I feel about her? Jewelry even?”
Harry sat down at the table, his brows stitched together as he swallowed down the lump he felt in his throat., “Don’t buy her jewelry. What if she’s not interested in anything anymore? Don’t make any rash decisions, Ty. Okay? Just…” he sighed as he was about to give his son actual advice, against his better judgment, “Take it slow with her. Call her and see if she wants to meet up first. Flowers could be nice if she does. But don’t expect anything. Don’t push her.”
“Okay. So flowers might be good. Yeah. Okay,” he stood up from the table and pulled his phone out, “Would a text work? Or should I call? I should call shouldn’t I?”
Harry watched his son pace in the kitchen with his phone in his hand. Tyler was looking for advice from the wrong person but Harry wasn’t going to tell him that.
He couldn’t stop Tyler from reaching out to you and he couldn’t stop you from agreeing to meet up with him if that’s what you chose. But that didn’t mean Harry wouldn’t do something rash. Something he might regret in the long run. But sometimes those heavy and deep feelings you get for someone can make you do crazy things.
. . .
You were shocked to see the text from Tyler. And a missed call with a voicemail. You’d been busy with work all day so when you were finally seated in your car and the quiet of the day could sink in you hadn’t expected to see anything from him. He hadn’t been on your mind at all.
Please call me back. I’d like to talk about how things ended. I miss you.
You sighed and put your phone down into your cup holder. Tyler was not the man you wanted to hear from. Not anymore. Now all you could think about was Harry. It’d only been a couple of days since you’d seen him. You figured if you could hold out seeing or hearing from Harry for a little longer, your feelings would start to evaporate and then you could move on. You didn’t want to get your heart broken by your ex’s dad. And you were sure that’s where things were headed with you two.
You imagined scenarios where you told Harry how you were developing feelings for him and it would go one of two ways.
The first more likely scenario had Harry gently letting you down. Telling you that you were amazing (because he was so sweet like that) and that you had your whole life ahead of you but that you were too young and deserved to be with someone you could share your life with in a healthy way. That he never intended for feelings to get involved. Plus he would remind you that you dated his son and he couldn’t very well get into some kind of serious thing with you. Ever.
The second very unlikely scenario had Harry admitting his own feelings to you and telling you that you two could make it work despite the age gap and despite the fact that you dated his son for almost two years. He would hold you close and tell you all those sweet things you wanted to hear and he’d make love to you after, full of promises and he’d tell you not to worry about Tyler.
So to see that you’d gotten a text from his son and not him was disheartening. You were absolutely no longer interested in Tyler. In no way was there any love left for him. His father, however? You were dipping your toes into those messy feelings of attachment that started to ebb on the L word. You weren’t ready to face that thought quite yet though.
You decided to listen to his voicemail. Mostly so you could just clear the notice from your phone and get it over with.
“Y/n, hey, it’s Ty. I’m sure you’re busy with whatever right now but I just needed to call you and tell you a few things. I miss you a lot. I realize that I kind of fucked up. I think we can still work things out if you want to try and compromise on a few things. Ya know? And… Oh! Guess what tomorrow is? It would be our two-year anniversary. I don’t know if you even care or not but I still do. I was hoping to meet up with you. Just so we could we could talk. No pressure. But I think we owe it to ourselves to just give it one more shot or at least hear me out in person. Call me back, please. I miss you, Y/n.”
You rolled your eyes and leaned your head back into the seat of your car. You didn’t want to see Tyler at all. You thought it was interesting that he assumed there was anything left to salvage after the way you broke up with him. And you’d forgotten about the 2-year mark. Harry had basically taken over your thoughts. You wondered what Tyler would think about you then. You laughed to yourself at the idea of you telling Tyler the kinds of things his dad had done to you. Surely then he’d despise you and move on.
But you’d never tell him those things because Harry wouldn’t like that. And you never wanted to do anything to disappoint Harry in any way.
On your drive home, as you felt the stress of your day begin to fade you wondered if it would be a good idea to see Tyler. Perhaps you could just meet him somewhere public, let him talk, and then set the record straight once and for all. You had zero intentions of getting back with him. That was just no longer an option. Not after Harry. Not after anything actually.
And when you heard your phone ping with a text you groaned. God was he persistent. You just needed some time to think first.
You didn’t owe him anything. You could just ignore it and move on but you were one of those people who felt like others deserved to be heard out whether they deserved it or not. You had dated the guy for almost two years after all. And maybe the smallest part of you hoped he’d tell Harry he was meeting with you. You weren’t sure why you hoped he’d tell his dad. You didn’t know what that would achieve. Just the notion of contact even if indirect perhaps.
But when you pulled your phone out of your cup holder you were surprised to see that the new text wasn’t from Tyler. It was from Harry.
H: I know you’re just getting off work right now. Hope you’re okay and that this isn’t overstepping but I miss you and would like to see you so we can talk. There’s a lot I need to tell you. Whenever you’re free.
Your heart leaped and your breaths grew shallow as you read his words twice more. You hadn’t expected him to reach out to you. It felt like such odd timing but you quickly text him back as you sat in the parking lot at your apartment.
You: Hi. I’m okay and you’re not overstepping at all. I was thinking of texting you soon. What are you doing tomorrow night?
You felt shaky as you stepped out of your car and made your way up to your front door, all the while checking your phone to watch the screen and see that he was typing a response. You were giddy. Beyond excited.
H: No plans tomorrow night. What’s on deck?
You let out a puff of breath as you entered your apartment with a cheesy grin.
You: I’m going to Bet’s Bar with a few friends at 8. Just super casual. But maybe you can meet me there and we can get away to talk a bit? I’d like to see you too.
This was one of those nights out that you’d been dreading. Your friend invited you with two of her friends who you didn’t know all that well. So it was already going to be awkward. But if you had the opportunity to scoot off somewhere and cozy up at the little table with Harry that could make the night so much better. Especially if you could leave with him after.
H: Yes. Okay. I can meet you there. Would you like me to come at 8 or do you want to spend time with your friends first?
You typed your response quickly.
You: Come at 8 if you want. I’ll tell my friends you’re going to be there too. They won’t care if we get a different table to talk.
Your heart was pounding in your chest. But that’s how it always was when you made plans with Harry. But this time felt different.
H: Great. I’ll see you at 8. I’m looking forward to seeing you.
You grinned and peeked into the kitchen to see your roommate cooking something.
“Hi Goose! What are you making? Smells good.” You leaned over the pot she was stirring.
“Marinara. For pasta. Thought we could stuff our faces on starch tonight if you want.”
“Oh that sounds fabulous,” you grinned at her and looked down at your cell phone. “I’m gonna go changed and then I’ll be right here to help you eat this,” you laughed as you walked to your room.
Somehow texting with Harry and knowing you were going to see him tomorrow made you feel more confident in calling Tyler back. You needed to get it over with.
The phone rang twice before he answered, “Y/n! Hi! How are you?”
“I’m good. Got your message and figured it would be nice to talk. Like you said.” He already sounded too keyed up which meant he had false confidence and probably thought this meant more than it really did.
“Where are you? Can I meet you somewhere?” Yup. You called it.
You pinched the bridge of your nose in annoyance as you shook your head, “Not today, Ty. I just got off work and–“
“Okay. Tomorrow then?”
God was he pushy. And he was crazy for thinking you’d spend a moment of your precious Saturday with him.
“I’m busy tomorrow. Uh… how about lunch on Monday? I can take an hour and we can grab a bite somewhere.”
“Monday? Well, what about Sunday? I feel like I deserve more than an hour, Y/n.”
You laughed, “I don’t agree. Monday at lunch is doable for me. Sunday I’ll probably be nursing a hangover. I’m going out with friends tomorrow night and I won’t be in the headspace to talk to you on Sunday.”
“What friends?” He sounded exasperated.
You rolled your eyes, “Does Monday work or not?”
You could hear him mumbling something. Probably about how rude you were or inconsiderate because he always thought he was owed more than he actually was.
“Sure. Monday lunch. So like, 12? Where should we meet?”
“Yeah. 12 works. You choose the spot. Okay?”
“Okay. Y/n, look… I feel like you and I can start thinking about what we can do to make this work–“
“Tyler, I just got off work. Can we talk about this on Monday?” You hated cutting him off. Even though he was an ass it made you feel bad for being so short with him.
A heavy sigh came through the receiver, “Fine. I’ll see you Monday.”
You tossed your phone to the bed and changed into comfy sweats before joining Goose in the kitchen.
“Was it loverboy?” Goose teased as she sat the wooden spoon down and looked at you.
“Loverboy?”
“The man that’s been coming over. I have no idea what he looks like or what his name is,” she laughed, “But I know you call him Daddy.”
Your eyes widened and you balked a laugh, “Oh my god. You heard that?” You put your hands over your eyes and groaned, “I’m so sorry…”
“Don’t be sorry. I don’t care. You’re usually pretty quiet but sometimes I can hear things. I’ve definitely heard you call him Daddy, though.”
You couldn’t believe that your roommate had heard you. You realized that sometimes you could tend to make more noise than you meant to because you couldn’t help it with the way Harry fucked you or played with you.
“Still. So inappropriate. We try to be quiet. But… we’re sort of taking a break right now.”
“Really? I’m sorry. Sometimes a break is good, though, yeah? Plus you just got out of that relationship with Tyler. Which, good for you by the way. I never liked that guy.”
You laughed and pulled down a couple of pasta bowls, “Yeah… Tyler was good at first but it got to be too much for me to deal with.”
You and Goose (her real name was Oris) sat and ate pasta and chatted about your love lives. It felt good to talk about what was going on, even if you didn’t give her all the sordid details about Harry, just talking about it helped give you a different perspective on things. A good venting session was exactly what you needed. It was time to be honest with Harry. If you didn’t do something or tell Harry what you felt you’d most definitely lose him. And tomorrow you’d get that chance to come clean to him. At least it would be you being honest and true to yourself. And Harry deserved your honesty at the very least.
. . .
You kind of went overboard. Dressing yourself in your favorite dress that showed off your assets, shoes that flattered your feet and ankles, a little gold necklace with a heart charm, your special going-out perfume, and makeup just so… Everything looked good. You were smooth and moisturized, smelled great, and to be honest you felt great too. You were hopeful. The more you read over the texts from Harry the more confident you were that he’d be going back to your room that night. Or maybe you’d go to his. Didn’t matter to you. As long as the night ended with Harry wrapping his arms around you and telling you he wanted you just as much as you wanted him. That was really all you wanted out of this.
H: Really excited to see you tonight, baby. I hope you know that.
That text from Harry before you were about to leave had you jumping up and down in your bedroom with a hot face and a pounding heart. And he called you baby? You were ridiculous but who could blame you? It also had you feeling a bit extra cheeky suddenly so you added one more little accessory to round it all off. You weren’t sure Harry would encounter the little thing but you sure hoped he would.
Bet’s Bar was one of those spots that was kind of classy based on the décor and the drink menu but the reality was that the place was more of a dive under the façade. The tables and floors were usually sticky, the drinks were watered down, the music that crackled over the old speakers was loud so you had to shout to be heard, and they had crappy bar food that you imagined was bought frozen and then heated up in some cheap toaster oven that had one side heating up more than the other before being served as “gourmet”.
“Oh shit, Y/n! You look hot!” Your friend spotted you as you walked into the bar. You were looking all around for Harry but didn’t see him yet.
“Thanks,” you grinned shyly; Acting as if it were by complete accident that you were perfectly put together.
“Let’s get a photo before we all get wasted. We’ll do a before and after,” she laughed as she stood in the middle with her phone out, you on one side and her two friends on the other.
Everyone took turns looking at the picture to make sure it was worth of being posted on Instagram before she posted it.
Your first drink was a seltzer with lime. You did not want to get drunk. If you and Harry were going to talk you needed to be clear-headed. He also had a rule which was established when you first started seeing him, that if you had too much to drink, sex was off the table. So, a drink or two at most for you. You were more interested in where the conversation would go with Harry than getting drunk anyway.
“So where’s this guy?” One of the girls asked.
You tapped your cellphone to see that it was 8:15, “He should be here soon.”
Though you were a little nervous that he wasn’t right on time. You hoped everything was going to go as you imagined. But of course, when did that ever happen in life?
And at 8:30, just as you were tempted to text him to see if he was okay, you saw him walking in through the front doors, looking like sex on legs. The man was just stunning. Dark curls swept up, a button-up shirt not buttoned all the way so you could glimpse the sparrows and top of his pecs with that light scattering of masculine hair, his white gold necklace with the cross dangling between to remind you of what you were missing. The shirt was tucked into dark trousers that accentuated his thighs and glutes and of course, the unmistakable natural bulge he sported at the front.
You gulped as you waved at him to get his attention. You couldn’t hide the pleased grin on your face or the relief you suddenly felt at his arrival.
Turning on your stool to face him he sauntered up to you with deep dimples scored into his cheeks next to his gorgeous smile and he leaned down to hug you, his cologne making your eyes roll into the back of your head.
“Missed you, baby.” He whispered against your ear before standing up and taking you in with his starlit green eyes. You gently grasped onto his fingertips looking up at him, “Missed you too.”
You both kept your gazes pinned for a minute until your friend broke the moment, “No wonder you dressed like you’re going for a model shoot,” her cackle had you rolling your eyes but you turned to smile at her.
“This is Harry,” you gestured at him and then pointed at each girl, “And Harry this is Seleh, Quinn, and Lirica.”
The girls all waved and grinned before you hopped off your stool and grabbed your seltzer telling them you’d be back in a bit and that you and Harry needed to talk privately.
He followed you to a small high-top table with two stools at the edge of the room and pointed at your drink, “What are you drinking?”
You looked down at your glass and back up to Harry who hadn’t yet sat down, “Oh it’s just a seltzer. I didn’t want to have too much. Haven’t had a real drink yet.”
Harry’s pink lips curved up into a smile as he nodded, “Okay. Well, I think I’m gonna go up and order a beer. Would you like me to get you something?”
You pursed your lips in thought. You didn’t want to have anything that would get you drunk fast, “A beer for me too. Maybe like a Guinness?”
“I’ll be right back.”
You could tell right away that Harry was there because he really did want to see you. He seemed excited too, which gave you more hope than was probably a good thing. It was always a bad idea to get your hopes up but it was hard to not imagine this night going very well already.
Harry walked back to your little table and sat your Guinness down in front of you and moved his stool next to yours, “Okay if I sit a little closer?”
You nodded, “Of course it’s okay.”
Harry settled himself on his stool and his knee brushed into yours, “I know I said I’d be here at 8 but thought I’d give you at least a little time with your friends before I came in and took you away.”
“Oh, it’s fine. Really. I’m just glad you’re here.”
Harry watched you take a sip of your beer and took a gulp of his own, “So, how have you been? I know it’s only been a few days but felt more like a few weeks if I’m honest.”
Your eyes softened as you shook your head, “I guess I’m… well I missed you. I felt like I needed to think about how I was feeling about everything but I have clarity now and…” you laughed, “I agree. It felt more like a few weeks than just a few days. Too long to not see you.”
Harry’s gaze wandered over your face, “It was too long. Didn’t like it at all. You wanna talk to me about what happened?”
A sigh fell from your lips as you looked down at your pint glass, “I’m worried that if I tell you then you’re not gonna like it and that’ll be it. No more of this,” you looked at him as you gestured with your finger between yourself and Harry.
“Okay. So you had a few days to think about whatever it was and you said now you have clarity. Yeah?”
You nodded.
“Well, that sounds like a positive thing overall. Do you want to tell me what that thing is? I’d really like to know.”
The music was obnoxious and it was hard for your brain to keep your thoughts in a straight line, or perhaps it was from the way Harry was looking at you. He always observed you in this way that had you heating up and wanting to crawl inside of his heart and stay for eternity.
“I started to have feelings for you that you probably don’t return. I was worried I was getting too attached.”
Harry nodded shallowly as he kept his eyes on yours but you noticed his shoulders relax a touch. As if he might have anticipated you telling him something different. “I see. Why would you think I wouldn’t also start getting attached?”
“I don’t know. I mean… I guess I can’t read your mind so–“ You shrugged your shoulders.
“Exactly. You would have no way of knowing unless we talked. And now we’re talking. So this is good.”
You smiled and felt Harry’s thigh nudge into yours and you could tell he did it on purpose when his grin stretched wider over his face.
“See, when you told me to leave that night, I thought I’d done something wrong. Thought I moved things along with you too fast. So it wasn’t that at all?”
Your eyes widened at that realization and you shook your head, “Oh god, no. No, absolutely not. It was me being overly emotional and feeling things that I wasn’t sure were good or not. I didn’t, and still don’t know, whether or not we’re just kind of having some fun or if there could be, you know, more?”
Harry raised his brows at you and took your hand in his, “More?”
You looked down at where his thumb was tracing over your knuckles, “Yeah.”
It was silent for a moment. You didn’t know if you’d totally turned him off by that idea or not. But you knew it had to be said. It had to be out there because you’d drive yourself mad if you didn’t say something. And the longer it was silent the more you felt that awkward embarrassing heat cover your thighs and boil in your tummy.
Until you looked up at him and his expression was kind and gentle and you knew you had nothing to be embarrassed about with him.
“So you’re saying that you don’t want this to just be casual anymore. You want something a little deeper because you’re developing feelings?”
You nodded as you worried your bottom lip between your teeth.
“Baby,” Harry’s deep voice came out like silk as he moved his free hand up to cup your face, “That makes me so happy to hear. I didn’t want to overstep and make you uncomfortable but I tried to show you how I was feeling. I thought it was too much for you and that’s why you wanted me out. That I was coming on too strong.”
Shaking your head you pressed yourself into his palm at your cheek, “No. I thought I was just making things up in my head. That the way you were with me, the way you looked at me and everything… that I was crazy to think it meant more than what we were doing.”
His smile softened as he cocked his head, “And what is it that we were doing?”
You laughed, “Well it started out as just having some fun I guess…”
He nodded, “Yeah. But then what happened? Hmm?” He ran a thumb over your jaw, “We started to get to know one another. Things got more intimate between us. Isn’t that right?”
You felt so relieved that you were having this conversation with him in this way. That he was touching you and looking at you in that way you loved, “Yeah, that’s right. I was worried it was one-sided, though. Didn’t want to assume you felt it too.”
Harry tutted at you, “Should have talked to me. You’d have learned I wanted more as well. But now you know. Now we both know it wasn’t one-sided.”
You nodded as your smile widened, “Now we both know.”
You let a sigh out through your nose as you turned yourself into him and felt your heart thudding in your chest. Harry leaned in, pushing his nose into yours, “I want you, Y/n. I want to be with you,” he spoke against your lips before he dotted a gentle kiss to your mouth.
Your hands found his shoulders, “I want you too. I only want you, Harry.”
Those final words spoken were like a breaker switch that illuminated the space around you and lit up streets and parks miles away. His lips began to move with meaning as he opened his mouth and ran his tongue against the split of your lips and you parted for him, lapping your own tongue against his.
You were breathless and dizzy and overjoyed. Harry felt the same way and all you had to do was tell him that night. You’d wasted so much time in turmoil over false thoughts. Ideas you’d made up in your head about him. But this was real. He was here and he was yours.
But the moment came to an abrupt end when Harry’s body was jolted, his warmth removed from you and you heard an umph! fall from his lungs when his stool scraped on the floor.
You gasped when you saw Tyler with rage in his eyes as he stood with Harry’s collar grasped in his hands, “What the fuck is this? I came here to surprise you Y/n. Saw you tagged in an Instagram post and was gonna make some romantic gesture, but looks like my old man beat me to it.” He looked between you and Harry as he spoke.
Harry was standing up in front of Tyler and you quickly scrambled off your stool to help. You weren’t sure what you were going to do to help but you’d think of something.
“Tyler stop!” You spoke loudly and as forcefully as you could muster.
“What do you mean stop? You and my dad are making out in public when you knew I wanted to see you,” he turned to look at his dad, “You know how I still feel about her. You knew we spoke on the phone yesterday!”
“Calm down, Ty. We’re not doing this here,” Harry warned. He kept his arms to his sides not wanting to hurt his son. Not yet anyway.
“Oh come on! This can’t be for real,” Tyler let go of Harry’s shirt and gestured at you and his dad.
“It is real. This happened. I’m sorry but it did, and I don’t regret it,” you watched Harry as he said it. The admission of what had been going on behind Tyler’s back, all out in the open for everyone to see now.
Tyler looked at you in confusion as he shook his head, “Tell me you haven’t been fucking my dad.”
You shrugged and pursed your lips together as you looked back up at Harry again. He stepped back from Tyler, tucking you in to his side protectively, “I’m sorry you found out this way. It was only a matter of time.”
“Only a matter of time,” he shook his head and ran his fingers through his hair, and then pointed at you, “Is this the chick you’ve been fucking? I’ve been overhearing you two in your bedroom, and it’s been her all along?”
You closed your eyes and looked down. That was embarrassing. You figured he might have overhead a thing or two but now that he knew who it was… And to be fair, you’d only slept over at Harry’s a few times simply because you didn’t want Tyler hearing it or recognizing your voice.
“Tyler, you need to go. You’re making a scene and you’re embarrassing yourself,” Harry spoke.
“Yeah. I’m embarrassing myself?” he balked sarcastically, “You’re here with my girlfriend under your arm acting like you know her better than I do–“
“She’s not your girlfriend anymore, Ty. Go home.”
A woman walked by the table and looked at the three of you as she passed, breaking the strange tension and making Tyler’s stance loosen as he took a step back, “This is insane. You two,” he pointed at you and Harry, “Have you fucking lost your minds? I’m done.” He looked at you, “You and I are done, Y/n.”
“That’s exactly right,” Harry said calmly, “Now you need to go, Tyler.”
“Fuck you, Y/n. You’re trash, you know that? There’s no way he can give you what I did,” he spat.
“Stop! Enough!” Harry’s voice raised at Tyler’s insult of you.
You were used to insults from him but it didn’t stop your face was boiling and feeling that anger and frustration that you used to feel so often with him as it started to crawl up your spinal column and spread over your shoulder blades.
“Is it enough, dad!? You’re fucking the girl I’m in love with. What kind of father are you? Garbage, both of you,” Tyler stepped in closer but Harry tightened his grip around you and angled you away from Tyler’s reach.
“If you get any closer to her I’ll have you flat on the floor in under two seconds. Back the fuck off and get out of here! We’ll talk about this later.”
You’d never heard Harry’s voice so full of fury. The furrow in his brow and the look in his eyes would have been scary if they were aimed at you.
“You know what? Fine. This was a waste of my time.” He looked at you and pointed, “You were a waste of my time. Two-fucking years and this is how you repay me? I regret everything that happened between us. I’m out of here.”
Tyler turned and walked away, his middle finger shining under the dim overhead lights of the bar until he made his way out of the door.
Harry pulled you in front of him as he looked down at you, “Are you okay, Y/n?”
You nodded up at him, “I’m fine. I can’t believe that just happened.”
Harry shook his head, “I should have figured he might do this. I’m sorry, baby.”
You could have purred at the baby. It was like Harry could erase all the stress and anger and turmoil you’d felt at once. His green eyes and soothing voice had you feeling comforted.
“Let’s go. I wanna leave,” you spoke as you smoothed your palms up his cotton shirt, “Will you come home with me?”
Harry nodded and took your wrists in his hands before kissing your lips softly in answer.
You left your unfinished beers and told your friends you were leaving. There were two guys at their table already and none seemed too upset that you were ditching them. Which you figured would be the case anyway.
It felt like you had seltzer in your veins as you climbed into Harry’s car with him. He kept his hand over your bare thigh as drove the short distance to your apartment.
“You sure you’re okay?” He asked you with a quick glance before training his eyes safely back on the road.
“I’m fine, Harry. You make me feel really safe.”
You watched as his dimples appeared from the big smile he had on his face. Biting your lip, you thought about him finding your secret other accessory. It was hard not to think about it every time you sat down. And the bucket seats in his car had you sitting in a way that you were pressing into it and it was already doing things to your brain and your body.
The moment you entered your apartment and closed the door behind you his lips were on yours again. His big hands pulled you into his body, squeezing at your bum as you slid your arms over his shoulders and moaned. But he was moaning too.
Three days. It had only been three days and this was the result. But maybe it wasn’t just that it had been three days without him. Because you’d gone longer between seeing him. You knew it was because it was three days of uncertainty. For you and for him. You both were in a state of limbo during that time and it had been your fault.
“Um, hey…” The sudden voice of your roommate startled both you and Harry. You’d forgotten all about Goose to be honest.
You laughed and Harry pulled your hand into his, “This is Harry. Um…” You looked up at him as you spoke.
“Oh, this is Harry. Okay…” she grinned.
You nodded, “Yeah. He’s uh… And, oh! This is Goose, or Oris, but she goes by Goose,” you looked from your roommate to Harry.
He reached a hand out toward her with a smile, “Nice to finally meet you.”
“Likewise. Now I have a face to go with… well I mean now I know what you look like,” she laughed, “But um… I’m just leaving. I’m going to stay over at a friend’s tonight so,” Goose looked at you, “Enjoy.”
“You don’t have to go,” you spoke as you watched her head toward the door.
“I think I do, actually. No offense but, I don’t know if I’m in the mood to listen to you both going at it all night. But seriously, it’s fine. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She walked around you and closed the door behind her, leaving you and Harry alone.
You looked up at him with a knowing smile, blinking your eyes at him, and stood to your toes to continue kissing him.
You weren’t sure what had crashed to the ground as you and Harry began to claw at one another and bumped into your coffee table when he walked you to your room with his mouth on yours. Everything was frantic and began to move on fast forward.
You hardly remembered pulling at his shirt and attempting to push it up so you could feel his warm skin and kiss him properly all over. You didn’t even realize that you’d pushed him down so that you were straddling him and attacking his pecs and his abs with your mouth and your tongue.
But when he laughed deeply, the sound vibrating from his chest as you began to unhook his belt, you opened your eyes and looked at him and realized what was going on, “Sorry!” You laughed in a panted breath.
Harry’s smile told you that he was not offended, “Sorry for what? Baby you can have me however you want. I was just a little surprised when you pushed me down is all.”
You laughed as you looked down at him. You were excited. For everything. That he felt the way you did, that you didn’t have to hide now that Tyler knew, that he was there with you in your apartment, in your bed…
“I think I should apologize for all of this. For what happened,” you cupped his jaw, “Because this could have all been avoided had I just said something to you like a grown-up. We were both on the same page but I made things worse by keeping it in and freaking out.”
It shouldn’t have come as a surprise to Harry when you began to move down his legs and take his pants with you. He watched you climb between his bare legs and then palm over his bulge as you looked into his eyes, “Gonna make it up to you. I’ll never do that again. I promise I’ll always talk to you.”
Harry grinned and put his hands behind his back to cradle his head, “What are you planning to do to make it up to me, then?” He had a pretty good idea based on the way you were rubbing over him and slowly making him hard in his underwear as you licked your lips.
“Anything you want. Figured I’d start here,” you dipped your fingers into the band of his underwear and raised your brows, “Is it okay?”
Harry’s laugh had you grinning wide, “Yes, baby. You can get me naked if you want. You have permission to do anything you’d like.”
You loved the way he looked. His strong core muscles flexed as he lifted his hips to help you remove his underwear. You dragged your palms up his strong thighs and toward his cock before you cupped a hand under his balls and lowered yourself to him, jutting your tongue out and softly licking the skin on his sac. You reached up a hand upward, wrapped your fingers around his shaft, and began to stroke him from tip to base and back again as you moved your lips over his balls.
Harry enjoyed having his balls licked and so that meant you liked it too. He’d wiggle the slightest and work to keep his thighs spread so you could really get in there and wet every inch of him and then suck them into your mouth gently.
“Y/n… baby…” he breathed out and you looked up at your gorgeous man enjoying the things your mouth did to him.
Licking upward, from his balls all the way up his long shaft to his tip he put his eyes on yours as you dotted hot kisses over his velvety skin. You kept your fist around his base as you swirled your tongue over his frenulum and dipped it into his slit just enough to get that reaction from him you loved.
He bucked his hips softly and gasped before you wrapped your mouth around him and lowered down his cock, finally getting to smooth your tongue up and down his length until his tip pressed into the back of your throat.
You were able to maintain eye contact at first. He kept his hands behind his head as he watched you suck him off with his lips parted.
But when you pulled off of him and you were getting that dizzy, pliable feeling you always got when you needed him to start taking over Harry could tell it was time to assist you.
“Want me to help, baby?”
You nodded, saliva coating your chin, “Please, Daddy.”
So he helped because he was a gentleman of course. With his hand cupping the back of your head holding you down and his hips thrusting up into your mouth he groaned as you gagged and sputtered around him.
You felt the brush of his pubic hair on your nose every time he worked his cock down your throat, making you wretch and gurgle. But the sounds of pleasure falling from his chest, growing more and more intense had you only opening wider, wanting more.
When he lifted you off of him you could hardly see with the glaze of tears in your eyes. Harry’s voice was soft as he helped you out of your dress and you clung to him to hold steady with each piece of fabric that was discarded.
“Such a pretty dress, baby. Wore It for me?”
You nodded and chuckled softly, “Just for you, Daddy. Hoped you’d like it.”
“Oh, I love it. Knew the minute I saw you it was for me. But this is better,” he cupped your tits in his palm as he moved you down to the bed on your back before licking at your nipples and then kissing his way up your neck.
He planted soft, wet pecks to your skin and over your lips before he worked his way down your body slowly until he’d gotten between your thighs and nudged your legs apart.
But he stopped his fluid movements and the brushing of his hands when you looked down at him with a teasing grin, knowing what he just found. Your secret accessory. A pink jewel anal plug.
His chest was rising and falling heavily as he pressed over the pink jewel that was sticking out from your ass and then looked up at you, “Also for me?”
You nodded, “Always only for you.”
Harry’s brows pinched together as he looked back between your legs and smeared his thumb up your labia, glistening with arousal. He dipped down and ran his tongue between your pussylips and up to your clit, smacking it into his mouth and making you moan loudly at the sudden sensation.
His mouth kissed and pressed and his tongue laved and circled every sensitive bit of your vulva. But it was the repeated lapping at your clit and the soft but greedy suckle that had you jerking your hips up and whining.
“Want you, Daddy… Please… Your cock…” You babbled out your words and Harry sat back, his thumb still circling your clit.
“Yeah? Want me inside of you, baby? Can’t handle anymore of this?”
“I want to feel you close to me…” You panted.
Harry ran his hands up your skin and over your neck, one hand wrapping around the front of your throat and the other groping your tit as he kissed your lips and he ran his solid cock through your slippery folds.
“How do you want me, baby? Like this? Maybe you want to be on top this time?”
Part of you wanted him to just fuck your ass. But you did want to feel him in your pussy first. Needed to feel that intimate connection, that stretch…
“On my tummy. With you on me and holding me close.” 
Harry groaned and sat up as he pushed you to your tummy and crawled over your back, making you spread your legs as he ran his cock against your pussy before slowly pushing his wide crown through your slick muscle, expanding your entrance and spreading your vagina with every inch he pushed in until you were whimpering at the depth of him.
He pushed the front of his thighs into the back of yours, “Like this, baby,” speaking lowly into your ear as he pressed his chest into your back and tucked a hand under your hip so he could finger your clit as he began to roll into you, pushing in and in, his solid girth splitting you in two and making you tremble, “Yes, Daddy!”
Harry didn’t fuck into you hard. He didn’t rail the life out of you as he did so many times before. No, this time his movements were slow and languid. Meaningful. Powerful.
“You’re such a good girl, Y/n. Made just for me, baby… Fuck…” he spoke into your ear as he pressed in, your anal plug being nudged into with every rock of his hips.
“I need you, Daddy… I need you…” you didn’t know exactly what you meant when you moaned your words but they were the truth. You did need him. Never wanted to be without him again. Never wanted to go through the torture of not knowing what was going on again.
“Yes, baby. Daddy needs you too, honey. I need you so much… every part of you…” you could hear the strain in his voice, “You’re mine, Y/n. You know that right?”
You could have died right then. That was all you needed in life. Self-actualization realized.
“Yes, Daddy… ohhh ffuuuuu! I’m yours. All yours…” his harsh thrust had your mouth dropping wide and your limbs quivering as he smoothed his fingers over your clit. You couldn’t stop it. Could help the ridiculously loud gurgled moan that fell from your mouth as you began to spasm around him.
“Just like that… Daddy’s cock feels so good doesn’t it baby… Oooh shit, little girl… Yes, there you go…” he coaxed you through your orgasm with soft words as you felt like you could vanish into thin air. He brought his free hand around to the front of your neck as he continued nudging deep into your tummy and panting in your ear.
His hips were pasted to your ass as he ground in, making your plug shift inside of you and you gasped. You wanted more. He had his hand around your throat, just there – not squeezing, and the feel of your plug…
“Daddy…” you panted, “Will you fuck my ass? I want it so bad.”
Harry puffed a laugh against your neck and kissed your jaw, “You sure, honey? You’re not too tired after that?”
You turned yourself to look at him, “Please.”
And how could he say no to you when you looked at him like that? When you called him Daddy and rounded your eyes and squeezed your cunt around his thick shaft.
He licked his lips as he slowly pulled his throbbing cock out of your pussy. He was so close to coming just then. So close to his release he was thankful for the moment it would take to remove your plug.
“This is so pretty, baby,” he spoke as he twisted and began to pull at it to remove it from you. “Gonna look even prettier with my cock in there. Sure you’re ready?”
You groaned and nodded, keeping your body twisted to look at him behind you, “I’m ready. So ready for it.”
Harry poured a very healthy amount of lube over your anus and smeared it all around your tight hole and then dipped his fingers inside to press the slick liquid as deep as his fingers could push it.
“Already nice and relaxed…” Harry commented as he pulled his fingers out. You were ready. You were sure of it. Harry might be a bit bigger than your anal dildo but you knew you were going to love it.
Harry pulled at your hips to angle you up for his access as he softly caressed your bum with one hand and used his other to grip his twitching cock. He smudged his tip to your hole and delicately pressed in, keeping an eye on your reaction as you arched your back and moaned, “More…”
You heard him chuckle as his tip finally breached the space into your anus, opening you up and making the breath catch in your throat at the initial burn and achy stretch.
“Color?” He spoke in a panted breath, already fucking out of his mind at the view he had.
“Green, so green,” you choked out.
He continued to press in until the burn you felt disappeared and that familiar fullness that you loved from your dildo began to take over.
“Ahhhhh!” Your voice was guttural as Harry slid back and then pushed in again.
He got into a very gentle pace, in and back, in and back, until your toes were curling and you were starting to see stars, “Fuck! Daddy!”
Harry stayed silent behind you as he worked himself in, rolling gentle, easy, and cautious thrusts as his face twisted up in ecstasy. He didn’t want to hurt you. He would allow himself to fuck you harder after a few tries, but this first time he was going to be a gentleman with your tight hole.
You reached between your legs and began to toggle at your nub and you choked out a gasp as you whined, “It feels so fucking good…”
Harry could hear the way your words came out shaky, like you were crying but he was quite in tune with your movements and you were very obviously enjoying every thrust he issued. Not to mention how you were already rubbing your clit and your legs were starting to shake. All good signs.
Harry’s groans were timed with his thrusts and they grew deeper and louder as he got nearer to his release. He was already throbbing and twitching and he was positive he was smearing precome inside of you as his balls tightened.
But then suddenly you howled as your muscles tensed and tears fell from your eyes. You could hardly maintain control of your limbs as you shook and convulsed.
Harry stopped his movements as he watched you fall apart and it was one of the prettiest things he’d ever seen. Watching you lose it as you rubbed your clit and cried, his cock lodged into your ass, your thighs quivering… But he gulped down his instinct to pump his come into you. He wasn’t sure if you were okay with that or not. He was sure you wouldn’t mind but it hadn’t been discussed prior so he’d hold off til you gave him permission. Coming inside of your bum would be a bit of a different experience than it was in your pussy.
He closed his eyes and tilted his head back. He had to will away his strong urge as you slowly calmed and moved your hand away from your bundle of nerves. But the moment he could tell you were good, he pulled out and pumped his cock in his hand, spurting come on your ass and your back as he coughed out a loud moan that filled the room.
You turned to watch him in his orgasm as you felt his warm cum spray over your skin. His chest was flushed and his strong biceps and triceps were flexing as he stroked his long shaft. Beautiful in every way.
When he opened his eyes and looked at you he was flushed and panting and as sexy as anything you’d ever seen. You pushed yourself up to your knees and turned to him, pulling him down to your mouth.
You were still a little shaky as you clung to the back of his neck and he puffed a laugh against your lips when he rubbed his hands up your sides and then down to your ass when he dredged his fingers through his come.
You laughed with him but he continued kissing you anyway, despite the mess he’d made and the sticky come all over his fingers and your back. The kiss was hot and soft all at the same time.
Those deep and viscous feelings were coming to the surface again. Your heart pounded heavy in your chest as your brain swirled with thoughts of only Harry. Of him being yours and you being his. Of sweet things and real emotions you could finally express freely. Because you knew he felt it too.
“Well, that was fun. Don’t think I expected this day to turn out so perfectly,” he grinned as he parted from the kiss.
You smoothed your hands to his jaw and looked at him dreamily, “Better than I imagined. So much better. I’m so glad you’re here.”
Harry’s nose poked into yours, “Baby, I’m glad I’m here too. I do have one thing I need to say, though.”
Your heart dropped for a half second as you pulled away and looked into his eyes, unsure of what he needed to say.
“Be my girlfriend?”
You sputtered out a laugh of disbelief, “Of course. Figured that was already established.”
The right side of Harry’s lip quirked up, “Well it certainly is now. Plus now I can tell everyone you’re my girlfriend if we make it official.”
You ran your hands over his strong pecs and nodded, “Yeah? You wanna tell everyone?” You took one of his hands and brought it up to your mouth as you proceeded to lick his come from his fingers.
Harry let out a shallow laugh before he groaned as he watched you, “I am definitely telling everyone you’re my girlfriend.”
You smiled as you ran your tongue over his knuckles and looked up at him, “I like the sound of that, Daddy.”
A/N: Hope you enjoyed the series! 💕 xoxo
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xtra7s · 3 months
Note
Could you do an enemies to lovers smut for Renee rapp? I can't find anything like it for this woman, and it's been sitting in the back of my brain for WEEKS🤣
𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐚𝐝𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐑𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐧
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Pairing: Renee Rapp x gn!reader
Sypnosis: Renee and Y/N, past broadway rivals, meet again at a party.
Content: Renee Rapp x gn!reader, fingering, cunnilingus, alcohol
Word Count: 2.7k
a/n: sorry there isnt much enemy to lover action, im completely writer blocked and I hope you enjoy. Not proofread
masterlist
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The room pulsed with energy, and at the center of it all, Renee Rapp held court. Her laughter rang out like a melody, drawing attention from all corners of the glamorous party. Suddenly, a familiar figure appeared in the crowd, and the atmosphere shifted. Y/N, now 23, stood there, an unspoken challenge in their gaze.
"Well, well, if it isn't Y/N," Renee smirked, her eyes narrowing playfully. "Thought you'd be off somewhere trying to steal the spotlight again."
Y/N chuckled, unfazed by Renee's jab. "You know me, always craving the attention you seem to think you deserve."
The tension between them crackled like electricity, the memories of their past rivalry bubbling to the surface. They exchanged pleasantries with false smiles, each word laced with underlying competition.
"Still riding on that role you stole from me, Rapp?" Y/N quipped, a sly grin playing on their lips.
Renee leaned in, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "Oh, please. I didn't steal it; I earned it. Unlike some people who rely on sympathy and mediocre talent."
The banter continued, their words cutting deeper with each exchange. It was as if the years had melted away, and they were back on the Broadway stage, fighting for the same spotlight. The party became a battleground, and every smile, every gesture, was a carefully calculated move in their ongoing verbal duel.
The party raged on, the music pulsating through the crowded room. As the night wore on, the competitive banter between Renee Rapp and Y/N took an unexpected turn. Glasses clinked, inhibitions faded, and the tension transformed into a different kind of electricity.
"Admit it, Y/N," Renee slurred playfully, leaning in closer. "You always secretly admired my talent. It's okay; I get it."
Y/N's eyes sparkled with mischief as they responded, "Oh, please. I only admired how you managed to talk your way into roles you had no business getting."
Laughter erupted between them, a shared understanding weaving through the alcohol-induced haze. The lines between rivalry and attraction blurred as they engaged in a tipsy dance of words and glances.
Somewhere in the midst of the chaos, they found themselves in a quieter corner, away from the prying eyes of the party. The air was thick with laughter and a lingering tension that seemed to pull them closer.
"I'll have you know," Renee began, her tone low and teasing, "I could still outshine you on any stage, even in this state."
Y/N chuckled, the sound rich and warm. "Challenge accepted, Rapp. But first, can we agree that we were both robbed of that role we fought over?"
Renee's eyes softened, and she nodded, a shared nostalgia washing over them. "Yeah, maybe we were both deserving. Broadway politics can be brutal."
As the night deepened, the flirtatious banter continued, their words becoming increasingly laced with innuendo. The competitive edge now carried a hint of something more, a mutual attraction that had been buried beneath years of rivalry.
"I have to admit," Y/N admitted, their gaze locking with Renee's, "you clean up well when you're not trying to sabotage my career."
Renee smirked, leaning in even closer. "Maybe I should sabotage something else instead."
The playful banter took a more seductive turn, and the air became charged with a different kind of energy. It was as if the years of rivalry had paved the way for a newfound connection – one that went beyond the stage and into the realm of shared secrets and stolen glances.
The raucous sounds of the party faded into a distant hum as Renee Rapp and Y/N slipped away, finding refuge in the dimly lit hallway leading to the bathroom. Y/N shot a mischievous smile at Renee, a glint of playfulness in their eyes.
"I need a moment to touch up my makeup," Y/N said, their voice low and suggestive.
Renee raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on her lips. "Well, I'm not one to let someone go to the bathroom alone, especially if they might be up to something."
Y/N chuckled, leading the way into the bathroom. The air was charged with anticipation, and the fluorescent lights flickered overhead as they entered the small space. Y/N turned to face the mirror, pretending to focus on their makeup, but their eyes locked with Renee's in the reflection.
"You know," Y/N teased, their voice a sultry whisper, "I never thought I'd find myself in a bathroom with you. The stuff of dreams, really."
Renee chuckled, closing the distance between them. "Dreams do come true, especially when you least expect them."
As Y/N applied lipstick, Renee couldn't resist the temptation. She gently turned Y/N around, their eyes locking with an intensity that sent shivers down both their spines. The playful banter had shifted into a charged moment of unspoken desire.
Renee, with a smirk that conveyed both confidence and mischief, pushed Y/N gently against the bathroom wall. Y/N's breath caught, their heartbeat echoing in the confined space. The flirtatious tension reached its peak as Renee leaned in, her lips dangerously close to Y/N's ear.
"You talk a big game, Y/N," Renee whispered, her warm breath sending shivers down Y/N's spine. "But I wonder if you can handle me."
Before Y/N could respond, Renee closed the remaining distance, capturing Y/N's lips in a passionate kiss. The bathroom seemed to fade away, and all that remained was the electric connection between them. Y/N responded eagerly, their hands finding their way to Renee's jaw, as Renee holds their waist.
The kiss was a blend of years of rivalry, newfound attraction, and the intoxication of the night. The world outside the bathroom ceased to exist as Renee and Y/N lost themselves in the heat of the moment.
As they finally pulled away, breathless and flushed, the playful banter had transformed into a silent understanding. The bathroom had become a secret haven for a connection that went beyond the stage, leaving both Renee and Y/N wondering what the encore of this unexpected night would bring.
The remnants of their passionate kiss lingered in the air as Renee and Y/N pulled away, their eyes locking in a shared moment of realization. A playful grin played on Renee's lips as she looked into Y/N's eyes.
"Feisty," Renee remarked, her voice low and teasing. "But I have a feeling the night is just getting started. How about we continue this at my place, hm?"
Y/N's heart raced at the suggestion, a mix of excitement and curiosity dancing in their eyes. "And why should I be inclined to go, Rapp?"
Renee leaned in, her breath warm against Y/N's ear. "My place isn't too far from here. It's quieter, and we can continue our little encore without any interruptions."
A sly smile tugged at Y/N's lips. "Should I be concerned?"
Renee chuckled, her fingers lightly tracing Y/N's jawline. "Only if you can't handle a little adventure. Besides, it's just a short cab ride away. What do you say?"
Y/N hesitated for a moment, the magnetic pull between them undeniable. "Lead the way, Rapp. Let's see what kind of encore you have in mind."
As they exited the bathroom, the party continued to buzz around them, oblivious to the clandestine connection that had formed. Renee intertwined her fingers with Y/N's, leading them through the crowd with an air of confidence. The night held the promise of something unpredictable, and neither of them could resist the allure of what awaited at Renee's house.
Outside, the city lights shimmered, casting a romantic glow on the streets. Renee hailed a cab, and as they slid into the backseat, the anticipation grew. The ride was filled with stolen glances and the lingering heat of their earlier encounter.
Arriving at Renee's apartment, the door closed behind them, sealing the promise of a night filled with passion and shared secrets. As they stepped into the dimly lit space, the chemistry between Renee and Y/N ignited once again, setting the stage for an encore that would be remembered long after the final curtain fell.
As soon as the door closed behind them, Renee couldn't resist the temptation any longer. She pressed Y/N against it, her hands sliding up their waist and pulling them closer. Y/N let out a gasp, their hands gripping onto Renee's shoulders as they looked up at her with hunger in their eyes.
Renee kissed down their neck, nibbling on the sensitive skin and earning a moan from Y/N's lips. She had always been fascinated by the way someone's reactions could change when she kissed different spots on their body.
"Bedroom" Renee murmured, pulling Y/N by her right hand to Renee's bedroom. Renee pushed Y/N gently onto her bed, their bodies sinking into the soft mattress. She climbed on top of them, her lips never leaving their skin as she kissed and nipped along their jawline, down their neck, and across their collarbone.
Y/N's hands roamed up Renee's back, pulling her closer as they let out soft moans. The room was filled with the sound of their heavy breathing and the occasional gasp as Renee's lips found new spots to explore.
Renee's hands slid under Y/N's shirt, her fingers trailing over their skin and eliciting shivers from Y/N's body. She leaned in to capture Y/N's lips in a deep kiss, their tongues dancing together in perfect rhythm.
As the kiss intensified, Renee's hand traveled lower until she reached the waistband of Y/N's pants. She paused for a moment, silently asking for permission before continuing. Y/N responded by arching into her touch and pulling her even closer.
Their clothes were soon discarded in a frenzy of passion, each touch sending sparks through their bodies. They explored each other with an urgency that couldn't be contained any longer.
With each passing moment, the intensity between Renee and Y/N only grew stronger. They were lost in each other, their bodies moving together in a perfect rhythm.
Renee's lips trailed down Y/N's chest, leaving a trail of kisses and bites along the way. She stopped to pay special attention to their breasts, kneading them roughly as she attached her lips to one of Y/N's nipples.
Y/N let out a gasp, their hands gripping onto Renee's hair as they arched into her touch. The sensation was overwhelming, causing them to moan loudly and lose themselves in the pleasure.
As Renee continued to lavish attention on Y/N's body, her hand traveled down between their legs. She ran a finger through Y/N's folds, teasing them with gentle strokes before delving deeper.
Y/N's hips bucked against her hand, their breath coming in short gasps as they became lost in pleasure. Renee slipped two fingers into them, increasing the pressure and speed until Y/N was writhing beneath her.
The room was filled with the sounds of their moans and heavy breathing as they moved together in perfect harmony. Renee knew exactly how to touch Y/N to drive them wild, and she took great pleasure in doing so.
Their eyes met for a moment before Y/N leaned down to capture Renee's lips in a passionate kiss. Their bodies moved together with a newfound urgency, both desperate for release.
Renee moved Y/N up the bed with no resistance from them. She trailed kisses and gentle bites down their body until she reached their thighs. Gently, she hiked their legs up onto her shoulders, exposing them completely to her.
Y/N let out a gasp as Renee's lips found a particularly sensitive spot on their inner thigh, sending shivers through their body. They could feel the heat building between their legs as Renee continued to leave a trail of kisses and bites along their thighs.
Without warning, Renee's tongue darted out and flicked over Y/N's clit, causing them to cry out in pleasure. She continued to work her tongue expertly on Y/N's most sensitive area, alternating between soft licks and hard sucking motions.
Y/N's hands gripped onto the sheets as waves of pleasure washed over them. They were completely at Renee's mercy, lost in the sensations coursing through their body.
As Renee continued to pleasure Y/N with her mouth, her hand slipped upwards to find its way inside of them once again. She worked her fingers in perfect rhythm with her tongue, driving Y/N closer and closer to the edge.
With one final thrust of her fingers and a flick of her tongue, Renee brought Y/N over the edge into a mind-blowing orgasm. They cried out in ecstasy as they rode out the waves of pleasure coursing through their body.
Renee didn't stop there though. She continued to kiss and lick at Y/N's sensitive areas, prolonging their pleasure until they couldn't take it anymore.
Finally, when Y/N was spent and breathless from their release, Renee made her way back up their body to capture their lips in a deep kiss once again. Their bodies were still humming with energy as they kissed each other passionately.
Renee's body was still humming with pleasure from Y/N's expert touch, but she couldn't resist the invitation in their words. "Let me make you feel good, Renee," they murmured, their voice filled with desire.
With a lazy smile, Renee shifted over to give Y/N more space on the bed. She watched as they trailed a hand down her naked body, causing shivers to run down her spine.
Their lips found hers in a sloppy kiss as their hand continued its journey downwards. Renee gasped into their mouth as their fingers brushed against her sensitive skin.
Without hesitation, Y/N slipped their hand between Renee's legs, finding her wet and ready for them. They rubbed her clit gently before slipping a finger inside of her. Renee moaned into the kiss as pleasure shot through her body. They knew exactly how to touch her, and she could feel herself getting lost in the sensations.
Their kiss became more urgent as Y/N added another finger, thrusting them in and out of her with perfect rhythm. She could feel the heat building within her once again, and she knew it wouldn't be long before she reached the edge.
Y/N broke the kiss and looked into Renee's eyes with a mischievous grin. "Do you want me to make you cum baby?" they murmured against Y/N's lips.
Renee let out a pathetic yes, unable to form any sentences as pleasure consumed her body. Y/N leaned down to capture one of their nipples in their mouth, sucking on it gently while their fingers continued to work their magic between her legs.
It didn't take long before Renee was crying out in pleasure, waves of ecstasy washing over her body. She clung onto Y/N tightly as she rode out the intense orgasm that had been building within her.
As Renee came down from her high, she pulled Y/N up to her level and captured their lips in a passionate but lazy kiss. She could taste herself on their lips and it only added to the feeling of intimacy between them.
Renee reached over to grab a discarded blanket from the floor and pulled it over them, covering their naked bodies. She held Y/N close to her, enjoying the warmth and closeness.
"God, that was amazing," Y/N murmured against her lips, still catching their breath.
Renee smiled and brushed a strand of hair out of Y/N's face. "You were amazing," she whispered back.
They fell into a comfortable silence, content with just being in each other's arms. Renee couldn't remember the last time she had felt so relaxed.
Eventually, they drifted off into a peaceful sleep, their limbs intertwined and breathing in sync.
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ovaryacted · 29 days
Note
I know you have a lot of asks so you don’t need to write anything for this but I wanna give Leon some good aftercare.
Like?? Imagine giving this man the best orgasm he’s ever had. He’s overstimulated, cum too many times and his brain is just not working afterward. He’s fizzled out and so vulnerable
Imagine taking him to a nice warm bath where you wash his skin and hair. He’s out of it, still feeling the aftershocks of ecstasy. Maybe he looks at you with half open eyes feeling nothing but goodness and love for once in his life.
You make him feel so wanted when you give him aftercare. Like? Touch his face, kiss his skin and tell him you love him.
He practically MELTS under your care.
I’m willing to bet he even gets somewhat emotional about it. After he’s bathed and dried off, if you let him lay his head on your chest, he might cry a little bit.
I mean, you are doing this because you love him. You’re not just taking something from him and leaving. You’re staying right there to make sure he’s ok. That he knows he’s loved.
It’s just a pretty picture, you know?
-angsty anon
MDNI/18+. NSFW.
Ah yes, the classic Leon Kennedy x overstimulation combination, one of my favorites. I always love the aftercare aspect of things, just being able to take care of him and make him feel loved and safe. I love that shit because it is what he deserves. For the record, I imagined RE4R Leon while writing this, don't ask me why, but that boy deserves a nice hug okay.
-
Leon's body is limp on the bed, completely drained both literally and figuratively. His mind had turned to static, damn near wheezing against the mattress as his heart still felt like it was beating out of his chest. You gave him a run for his money, fucking him until he couldn't fuck back and his soft cock twitched against his pelvis.
You hovered over him and caressed his cheek gently, offering him a soft smile as he caught his breath.
"You okay?", you whispered to him, hearing him hum and making you chuckle. You tried your best to read him when he was like this, so deep in the haziness of his mind that he needed a little help coming back to reality.
"Do you want me to run you a bath?", you asked him, getting a shake of his head in response. "What about staying here for a while? Would that work?", and that got you a nod, so you gave him what he wanted.
You didn't hesitate when his tired arms wrapped around your waist, bringing his face to nuzzle into your chest. As he brought himself as close as he could to your body, you ran your fingers through his blonde hair, pushing it back and scratching his scalp. Sometimes he needs the extra time to cool down before anything else, and you'd happily grant it to him.
His breathing evened out after a couple of minutes, your nails gently scratching his neck and shoulders, running lines up his spine and making him hum in delight. He'll open his eyes after a while, placing a soft kiss on your neck and you took that as a signal that he was a bit more coherent.
"You doing alright baby?", your voice was just as soft as your touches, Leon sighing against you and slowly blinking like a cat.
"Mhm. Can we take that bath now?", he asked, so gently one would think he was a child, but the tone of his voice only made you smile.
"Yeah, come on", as carefully as you could, you'd bring him in towards the bathroom, filling up the tub as Leon stood closely nearby. He doesn't take his hands off you and doesn't venture off too far, affectionately grazing your hips and thighs like a needy puppy.
It's not long before you both sink into the bath together, calming lavender and chamomile filling his senses and wrapping him up in comforting warmth. You sat on top of his lap, rinsing his body off and running some water over his head, caressing his face as if he were a porcelain doll.
Leon's mind is empty, just your presence alone doing wonders to soothe his hyperactive nervous system. You leave soft kisses over his face, on his forehead and eyelids, followed by his cheeks before going to the tip of his nose and his lips. He lets you do it, his eyes closed as he enjoys the much needed attention.
You're so gentle with him, treating him with a certain kindness he hasn't experienced in a long time, probably ever until he met you. For some reason his breath hitches and gets caught in his throat, his chest starting to tighten and before he realizes it he's crying. One would think he was upset or hurt, but what he really feels is gratitude, thankful that another human being wasn't treating him like an object meant to be used and discarded.
You don't flinch away. You don't leave. You simply wipe away his tears and remind him of the truth.
You're safe now.
It's okay. I'm right here.
I love you. So much...
It's things like this that make Leon wonder how he managed to find someone willing to ease his burdens, to remind him of the humanity he thought he had lost years ago. He doesn't say anything until he's back in bed with you, his skin moisturized from when you rubbed your lotion and body oil all over him and dressed him in some baggy clothes.
You find yourselves back in your previous positions, legs entangled in the sheets and his head resting against your chest. He's already half asleep after everything, and as he answers the call to slumber, you catch the mumble that slips out between his lips as his eyes close.
"I love you too"
531 notes · View notes
moonchildstyles · 5 months
Note
For a possible smutty gravity blurb: maybe something they haven’t tried before?? Like maybe flower watches one of his streams or something and he’s talking abt some type of kink/situation they’ve never done before and she gets all nervous bc she wants to do that but she’s kinda insecure bc why is he talking about it on stream but not to me??? And so maybe there’s a wholesome communication moment butttttt they end up doing that thing:) idk just a thought hehehehe
cw: anal play involved!! if that makes you uncomfortable please skip :)
wordcount: 10.2k+
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The end of autumn chill swirled around (Y/N) in a fluttering gust, the ends of her hair being lifted along the sweeping breeze. Her nose felt chilled, among the elements, any bare swatch of skin prickled with goosebumps. Despite her hand being exposed to the elements, she didn't notice much of that cold with the way Harry had it wrapped in his own. Walking her out to her car, he swung their hands between them in a juvenile show of affection. Since he started, she hadn't been able to wipe the smile from her face. 
Looking up at him, seeing the tip of his own nose flushed with a chill to match that of his cheeks, her grin widened. He still had his glasses on from class, a heavy cardigan on his torso with his curls still a bit loose from his morning shower. 
"What?" he asked, glancing down at her with a wide smile, his dimples and bunny-like front teeth on display. 
"Nothing, just looking," she muttered through the curl of her lips, "You're working tonight, right?" 
"I am, yeah," he sighed, "Sorry." 
Creases pulled her brows into a furrow. "Why are you sorry? It's your job, don't be sorry." 
"I know," he drawled, the same way he always did when she had to remind him that there was no reason for guilt tied to his line of work. "But, I was wanting to spend time with you tonight instead." 
Bumping his shoulder, her gentle scolding tone melted, "You know, I could still come over." 
A shy flush bubbled to the surface of his cheeks, painting him a deeper shade of red than the wind could accomplish. "You'd distract me too much." 
"I think we could still get through," she teased, her voice lilting as she bumped her hip against his once more. 
"Maybe, another time, flower," he murmured, looking down at her with an expression she figured was better suited to the man on camera and not the physics tutor he was during the day. 
"Another time, then," she agreed, pushing back the sudden need to squirm as his eyes traced down her form. 
Approaching the parking lot, her car in the lucky space close to the building, (Y/N) pretended as if she didn't cut her pace to make slower strides. She wanted an extra couple of seconds with him, even if it meant walking like the people she complained about on campus between classes. 
"Did y'still want me to call you before bed?" 
"Yes, please," (Y/N) answered, "If you're not too tired, anyway." 
"Never too tired for you, love." 
Thinking back to the first days of knowing Harry, remembering the way he struggled to meet her eyes or would flush immediately when she said something as simple as his name, it was hard to compare him to the version that stood before her now. Openly flirting with her and agreeing to another time where she could sit in on one of his cam sessions and distract him for fun. It was no wonder she had never seen the obvious signs tying the camboy on her computer to her physics tutor. 
"Get home safe, yeah?" he murmured to her, stopping at the bonnet of her car. Using his hold on her hand he turned her to face him. 
"I'll text you," she smiled up at him, rising to her tiptoes for a moment to press her lips to his in a small kiss.
Harry chased after her, unwilling to let the kiss end just yet. He won his reward of an extra peck before she started pulling away. He'd been late to his afternoon classes one too many times after walking her back to her car, claiming he just wanted to make sure she made it there alright when they really ended up spending time kissing until his cheeks were flushed. 
"Go to class," she reprimanded him, drifting away from him towards her car. 
Keeping his hand clasped in hers, Harry elongated that contact until he couldn't anymore, his fingertips grazing hers before they dropped to his side. "Love you." 
"Love you, too, H. I'll see you tomorrow." 
A toothy grin spread across his cheeks as he looked at her, his eyes impossibly behind the lens of his glasses. "See you tomorrow.
She gave him a tinkling wave as she stepped into her car. He would stay there until he saw her pull out of the lot, keeping to his promise of ensuring she started her journey home safely (he knew too many statistics about driving accidents to freely let her go without being there in case of emergency, he'd said). But, even as she pulled out of the lot into the main road, she could see him in her rearview mirror, standing with his hands on the straps of his backpack, wide grin on his mouth. 
There was the tutor version of him again; the one that was soft and smiley, shy and wrapped in sweaters. She was going to have to tune into his stream tonight to get the other side of him.
—————
While tuning into Harry's shows were something that she always found fulfilling, there was something especially satisfying now that she knew who he was and knew him as more than just a faceless crooner. Though, she could admit, she still felt a bit shy when she logged in. 
However, it didn't take her long to sink into the night session when she tuned in after putting away her study materials for the night. Checking the time, she knew Harry would be in the middle of his stream then, the temptation too much to ignore before she was logged in and watching him as he cooed and moaned for the camera. 
By the time his screen was pulled up for her, his tip meter was already full and over the edge, his shirt off and his hand wrapped around his cock though his boxers were still on. She knew this routine—it was one of her favorites, anyway; he was in the mood to tease the audience tonight. He was going to coax them into begging for him, asking for more of daddy before he would be so inclined to give it. His chest was flushed a warm red, complimenting the black tattoos inked on his skin. Blocks of muscle were bunching and straining, his abs shining with a layer of sweat. The camera had almost everything in view, going as high up as to capture the line of his throat before cutting off at his jaw.
Plugging her headphones into her ears, she heard the labored sound of his breathing, the rich gravel of his town heavy on his tongue, and the slick sound of his fist passing over his length. 
She had her hands on her keyboard, reading to type something out for him to test if he had his eyes on the chat, but she stopped short when he resumed talking. He was detailing out a fantasy for them, one she had never heard fall from his lips before. 
"Would you like that, baby?" he asked, words drawling and dripping out of his mouth, "You'd let me try with you? You'd let me play with your cute little ass?" 
Just out of view of the camera, he threw his head back, his breathing labored. She could see the stretch of his neck, flushed with his Adam's apple bobbing. His hand on his cock quickened, his fist slapping against his skin. 
"You'd let me do that?" he continued, his voice completely breathless with his chest heaving, "Let me fuck you from the back and see where else you could take me? Play with you a little?" 
With a fluttering blink, (Y/N) couldn't take her eyes off of what her Harry was doing on screen. Though he'd never brought it up to her before, it didn't take much for her to picture what he was offering for the audience. 
She could be on her hands and knees for him, Harry kneeling behind her with his thighs smacking against the back of her own as his cock sank in and out of her pussy. Her heart was in her throat when she pictured him spreading her cheeks apart and thumbing at the second entrance he was speaking up, the second place she could "take" him like he said. 
Is that something he wanted? He wanted to play with her, see what else he could mold her body into doing for him, see what reactions he could garner from her? 
"You'd love it, sweetheart, I promise. I'd be so gentle, so gentle," he rambled, his voice sounding airy and lost the longer he sat with his fantasies. "I can put in a couple of fingers, show you how good it feels. I think I could make you cum like that. You want that?" 
Her designated nickname pricked her ears. He didn't even know she was tuning into the show yet, having been frozen since he started speaking with no comments in her name being sent through the chat yet. He was thinking of her?
The idea made her thighs tense, her stomach squeezing into a tight knot. 
There had never been a time in her life that she had considered allowing anyone to feel around anywhere other than her pussy, but the thought of Harry wanting to feel and touch her everywhere plucked at something in her. Leave it to him to make even the most unappealing of things into something she could see herself wanting. 
"Fuck you everywhere, sweetheart, that's what I want" he groaned, the pace of his hand on his cock causing the band of his underwear to slip low enough to show off his length. "Gonna cum jus' thinking about it." 
Sucking in a deep breath, (Y/N) listened to his breathing hitch and shudder, changing to match the heavy pace of his hand on his cock. He really was going to cum, that much she could tell. His abs were tight, skin flushed, and the base of his cock tight from the sliver of skin she could catch on screen. 
"C'mon, sweetheart, tell me you'd let me try with you. Let me have more of you."
 His chat was flooded with responses, going way too fast for (Y/N) to even attempt to concentrate on. She could imagine it was filled with the confirmations that he wanted, dirty promises that any of these audience members would spread open for him at any given moment. His tip meter had well exceeded the goal amount, the donations and tiny messages attached seemingly only urging him on. 
All (Y/N) could give her attention to was the amount of times he uttered her nickname, asking her if she'd let him try his fantasy with her. That he promised that he would make it good for his sweetheart, that he'd be as gentle as he could be when sinking his fingers in and fucking her everywhere he could reach. 
She felt as if she were out of her body, watching as he plucked down the band of his boxers. His heavy cock bounced up against his stomach before he caught it in his slick fist. His length was wet and flushed, precum pooling on the tip and dripping down his shaft. She was sure her mouth had dropped into a gape. This fantasy had elicited that kind of reaction from him. Her tummy tightened at the thought.
Though she was aware he was talking, spinning a story for his viewers to be entranced with, (Y/N)'s own head was spiraling around her own story. 
Would he help hold her hips up when she couldn't anymore? She already felt full enough with his cock inside her, how much more would she feel with him like that? With his stamina, how long would he have her buried against the mattress, opened up just for him? 
Before she could even be aware of the moment, she heard a familiar gasp in her headphones. Her eyes refocused on the screen, Harry's cock spurting with ropes of cum. Strings decorated his chest, slicking over his tattoos in milky pearls. He groaned, chest heaving with blushing skin. His throat was bobbing, the skin stretched with the very ends of his hair visible on the edge of the screen. She could picture his eyes closed, lavender eyelids fluttering with dark lashes. His mouth would be set into a gape, a pinch between his brows.
One of these days, she was going to end up going to his apartment after one of his streams. It wasn't fair that he was able to perform like that and she wasn't in his bed at the end of the night. 
Harry recovered soon enough, cleaning off his chest and giving his signature send off for the night. 
(Y/N) was still far from joining him in that headspace even when the screen blacked out, his page settling for the night. Her brain was still where he was describing his fantasy, where she could picture herself on all fours for him. 
Replacing her laptop lid and sliding the device away, she rolled onto her back in the folds of her comforter. Staring up at the ceiling, she attempted to gather her bearings. 
Now that more of the lust and the initial intrigue began to wane, she was left with a question. 
Why wouldn't he tell her about this? Obviously, he had quite the feelings towards this fantasy, given the fact he was so worked up, cumming before she even really had a chance to catch up. Why was his first choice to share this with strangers on his stream as opposed to telling her?
To be fair, it was a rather intimate dream, even more than what they usually did with one another. But, considering the details of their relationship—her being an avid viewer of his before knowing his identity, Harry being an active cam-personality, as well as the time they sexted with one another before even knowing who they were—there were very blurry lines when it came to what could be "too much". 
She hoped she had shown that she would be open to trying anything for him, just the same way he is with her. 
Their phone call tonight would be interesting.
—————
"Hi, flower."
Snuggled in her duvet, (Y/N) relaxed into the mattress at the sound of his voice. "Hi, H. What are you doing?" 
"About to fall asleep," he shared, his voice decidedly deeper than usual, "What about you, love? Y'get all your studying done?"
"Mhm," she hummed, casting her mind back to the hours before she tuned into his stream. They didn't seem so important compared to everything that happened after she slid her textbooks out of the way. Harry didn't even know yet that she had been present during the show, and she wasn't sure if she wanted to tell him. A part of her wanted to wait and see if he would broach the subject of everything without her having to bring it up. "How was your show?" 
"Short," he laughed, the sound a warm vibrato, "I got too worked up and barely made it through a half an hour." 
"Yeah?" she prodded, hoping to open up the conversation for him, "What happened?" 
"Jus' m'imagination running a little too wild," he sighed, paraphrasing everything she had already heard through her headphones, "Thought about you a little too much, of course." 
The timber of his voice fell as he spoke his last statement, enticing her through the phone as if that was a hard task for him to pull off. His voice was what paid half of his bills anyway—his body handled the other fifty percent. 
(Y/N) felt a tad on the breathless side when she spoke next, settling back into the way she had integrated herself into his story; she could still see herself on her hands and knees, spread open for him with whines falling from her lips. "What do you mean?" 
"You know what I mean, sweetheart," he drawled, the smug smile on his lips audible through the phone, "You've seen the shows; you know what I think about when it comes to you." 
It was hard not to get wrapped up in his words. Even with the small plan she had in her back pocket, this being her attempt to gather more information about the fantasy she shared with strangers on the internet, it was all too easy to fall into that soft, velvet coated space with him where his words were like silk and honey dripping over her skin. He knew exactly how to talk to her. 
"Yeah," she swallowed, closing her eyes with her cheek mushed against her pillow, "But, was something different about today?" 
Harry hummed as if he were considering her question. This would be the moment, she figured. This would be when he'd bring up the fact that he wanted to try something new with her, lay her out on his bed and take her in every way he could. 
"I jus' think I miss you, that's all," he told her, deflating that anticipation ballooning in her chest. "I feel like 's been a while since I've had you all to myself, don't you think?" 
Truthfully, they spent the entire weekend at his apartment, studying and working on papers in-between cuddles on the couch and romps in his bedroom. 
"I think, we had all weekend together," (Y/N) laughed, teasing him some as if she still wasn't itching for alone time with him. 
"I guess we did, huh," Harry joined in, "Jus' not enough for me then, I guess. You've spoiled me, now I'm always going to want more." 
That declaration pinged in the back of her mind. He wanted more, that's what he's said in the stream. He wanted more of what she had to give him. 
"I can do that," she answered instinctively, her voice a bit breathy over the line. 
"Yeah? Gonna keep spoiling me?" he teased, his demeanor decidedly much more light-hearted compared to the creeping in of lust into her tone. 
"I'll try." She'd try to be everything he wanted, she decided. She was going to be the place he indulged and shared those intimate stories with, not the internet. 
A soft sigh sounded on the other line. "Y'always do, flower," he crooned before a yawn cut him off, "'M about to fall asleep, love, 'm sorry." 
"Don't be sorry," she rushed out, feeling guilty now that she's trying to extract information from him when he started the call telling her just how sleepy he was, "Go to sleep and I'll see you tomorrow, right." 
"See you tomorrow," he confirmed, his voice heavy and dripping, "Love you." 
"Love you, too, H. Goodnight." 
Harry shared a final goodnight with her before the call ended with (Y/N) left in her lonely bedsheets and the new facet of him she learned today. 
Her eyes shuttered to a close as she sunk into the silence of her bedroom. She hadn't been lying when she said that she would try to do that—be that—for him. Why he didn't tell her in the first place, wasn't something she could dwell on at the moment. She needed to focus on plucking up the courage to do what she promised. 
—————
"I'm still coming over tonight, right?" 
Harry's smile bloomed over his lips, dimples deep in his cheeks. "Of course," he murmured, dipping his head down through the open window of her car to press a kiss to the apple of her cheek, "Should jus' live there, if you ask me." 
(Y/N)'s own lips were curled into a soft smile as she looked up at him. This wasn't the first time nor would it be the last time she heard of this want of his. "We'll see," she settled, "Let me know when you're back then I'll head over." 
"I will," he smiled, pressing another delicate kiss to her mouth before pulling away. "I love you." 
"I love you, too," she cooed, "I'll let you know when I make it home." 
He murmured a small thank you against her skin before pulling away. He waved a goodbye at her as he stepped back from her car, giving space for her to pull out of the parking lot. 
Flicking her gaze to the rearview mirror, Harry nothing more than a cardigan covered figure that grew blurrier and blurrier until she took the turn to leave him out of her sight, (Y/N) could feel her heart rate spike. 
She had a plan. The idea of setting it in motion elicited that nervous excitement in her. All she wanted was for it to go along without a hitch, and spend a special night with Harry. 
When she laced this whole thing together the night before, she decided that when she went over that night, she wouldn't even really address what she had heard him say in the stream. She would initiate everything, pushing a little bit for the taboo idea he had shared, telling him that she wanted to try something new with him. She would tell him that she wanted to give more of herself to him. 
It wouldn't take too much convincing, she figured. She already knew he had quite the affinity towards the idea of trying out both of her entrances. All she had to do was frame it with all the confidence she could muster. 
And, maybe a cute set of lingerie she had bought with him in mind. 
—————
The soft sound of lips parting and coming together once more filled Harry's apartment, the television screen a plain black as (Y/N) didn't want to waste time playing pretend with a movie night or watching an episode of their show. Instead, she didn't take much time before she was climbing atop his lap on the couch, her thighs astride his hips and Harry's hands on her waist.
"Sweetheart," he sighed into her mouth, his grip on her waist tightening as if she would slip away without him, "I've missed you." 
(Y/N)’s own hands cradling his jaw, thumbing at the planes of his cheeks. Tipping her head in an effort to deepen the kiss, her tongue sweeping across his own, her nose the side of his own. "I missed you too, daddy." 
She could feel the way his title affected him, his cock hard and heavy against her own core. He used his hold on her as leverage to help grind her down against him, (Y/N) practically able to feel the ridge of his head and the pulse of his heart through the thin fabric of her shorts. His grey sweats left little to the imagination. 
"Say it again." 
Moaning into his mouth, a crease knitted her brows the further she sunk into the moment. This was her chance, she was vaguely aware of. She was so ready for him, she lacked those nerves that came with vulnerability and she doubted Harry would be self-conscious enough to deny any indulgence into his fantasies. 
"Daddy," she moaned, leaning into him that much more. 
Snaking a hand down his form, (Y/N) followed the line of his shoulder down to his forearm. She reached to grab at his wrist before guiding his hand down lower on her body. Harry pliantly let her move him until they reached the full of her ass, the plush skin denting under Harry's fingertips. She pressed back against him, encouraging him to grab and play with her just like he said he wanted. 
Harry was all but melting between her thighs. His kissing was growing lax and heavy, his tongue playing with her own in languid strokes. His heartbeat was racing but there was no urgency in the way he handled her. He luxuriated in every touch, every stroke, every grab. 
It didn't take long for him to bring his other hand down to match the first, gripping her bottom in the span of his palms. Her skin felt flush everywhere he touched her, making it easy for her to push back against his hands and urge him to take the more he had been searching for. 
"What's gotten into you?" he murmured, his voice heavy and watered down through the interrupting kisses. "Not that I don't like it, but you're being different, sweetheart." 
To his credit, she was definitely going out of her way and initiating more, asking for more, doing more than she ever had before. She was always perfectly content with Harry calling the shots and sinking into that persona he felt comfortable in when it came to the bedroom. While she wasn't planning on taking that power from him tonight, she still had an end goal in mind that she was willing to guide him into meeting her at. 
"Sorry," she answered, taking her lips to the corner of his mouth as they caught their breath, "I can stop. I just didn't realize how much I missed you, that's all." 
"No, no, don't slow down," he urged her, pulling her flush against him with his hands on her ass, "Jus' want you to talk to me. What do you want? What do you want daddy to give you?" 
Traveling down his neck, her lips never left his skin as she dragged a string of kisses over the slope of his throat. "I want to try something new," she whispered, hiding in his neck as she spoke. 
"New?" he clarified, his voice vibrating through his throat, "What do you mean, hm?" 
Was there a pretty way to phrase what she was going to ask for? (Y/N) wasn't sure, but she was going to try her best. As lusty as she was, she still was a little too shy for the more vulgar of phrases.
Instead, she pressed her bottom back against his palms, the ridges of his palms and the digits of his fingers could be felt through her sleepover shorts. "I want more of this," she told him, nose skimming his hairline with her eyes shuttered closed. "Inside." 
All at once, clarity seemed to move into Harry. 
Shifting his hold on her, one palm returned to the curve of her waist and the other landed on the back of her neck. He drew her away from her hiding place, forcing her to meet his gaze. 
The lush green of his eyes had been depleted into something dark and foresty, a thin ring around a dilated pupil. 
Fluttering her eyes in a blink, she dropped her gaze down to the swollen pillows of his lips. "Why'd you stop?" 
A lopsided curve tugged at the corner of his lips. His hand on the back of her neck shifted until he was cradling her jaw in his palm, thumbing at dip under her chin. "Wanted to talk to you for a second, that's all." 
Her heartbeat sped up in her chest, though no longer because of the lust she had feathering through her veins. "About what?" 
Amusement flickered through his gaze. "About what y'jus' said to me." 
Underneath her, Harry looked every bit the boy she had met in her physics course, the one that was too shy to meet her eyes and overly apologetic any time he had to scoot past her. He was the one that had tutored her through the toughest lectures and exams, willing to take his time and teach her things she wouldn’t have understood without him. She remembered him with flushed cheeks and chunky glasses, always warm under a heavy cardigan and a shy smile. 
But, he wasn't acting like that boy. He was acting like the performer he was on screen. He was coaxing and teasing her, easing her into spilling her guts and cumming for him the second he requested as much. It wasn't fair; he was too cute, making her feel so safe to let go and be whatever she wanted to be, but entirely too hot to let her hand a clear head. 
When she didn't answer, the cam performer continued, "Y'said y'wanted more of this, right?" He emphasized his question with the hand on her waist sliding down until he was warming the curve once more, fingers denting the soft flesh.
With a flutter of her lashes, (Y/N) gave a quiet nod of her head. 
Harry hummed at her nonverbal answer. He tipped his chin and pressed a small kiss to her lips. It was a distraction as he led both his hands to sit on her bottom. This time, he made a point of sliding them under the hem of her shorts, skin to skin. 
"What did y'mean by inside, flower?" 
(Y/N) bought herself time by pressing another lingering kiss to his lips. There was that bashfulness rearing its head once more. She would have to tap into his confidence if he wanted her to be blunt. 
"You know," she murmured as if that were a real answer. 
"Do I?" he prodded, smiling into their kiss, "Because I think it sounds like y'want me to play with your cute little ass. Is that right?" 
Her chest expanded with a shuddering breath. "Uh-huh." 
Buttoning his mouth against hers one more time, he shared a quick kiss with her before pulling away. His pupils were still dilated and warm, but something was decidedly softer when his gaze met hers. 
"Is that why y'seem so nervous, right now?" 
(Y/N) clammed up at his words. He wasn't supposed to be so observant. 
"I'm not nervous," she argued, her hands falling to the planes of his chest. 
"Yes, you are," he countered, just as sweet as he smiled up at her, "And that's okay. I jus' want to know where your heads at. I didn't know y'ever wanted something like this." 
She shrugged, dropping her eyes to where her hands rested on his chest. She could feel the hard muscle underneath the soft fabric of his top. "I only want to try it with you." 
"Yeah?" he said, sounding a little too cocky to be safe, "And why y'didn't y'tell me before?" 
Before she could think much better of it, the adrenaline and endorphins in her system doing their job, (Y/N) fired back, "Why didn't you tell me?" 
She watched as Harry's brows creased at her words. "What do you mean, love?" 
Floundering over her words, (Y/N) knew she couldn't stop here. She had already started, there was no way of stopping in the middle of it all. "I saw your stream the other night," she blurted out, getting it out of the way and off of her chest, "The one where you talked about this stuff." 
Realization dawned on him then. "I didn't know y'were listening to that one." 
"I was going to comment or say something so you knew I was there," she explained, "But I had come in halfway through and you were already talking, and I've just never heard you talk about wanting that before. I was... surprised."
"Bad surprised or good surprised?" 
"Good surprised," she admitted, peeking at him through her lashes, "But, a little bit bad surprised because I had to hear about it through a stream and not from you." 
Adjusting his hold on her, Harry held her with an arm looped around her middle with his other hand still warming her jaw. Hugging her to his chest, she had no choice but to look up at him and meet his eyes. "I wasn't trying to keep anything from you, you know." 
"I know," she reasoned, understanding that part of his job was that it was an outlet for some of the more vulnerable things he hadn't admitted aloud yet, "But it sounded like you were talking about me, and when we talked later you said you were thinking about me while you were streaming. If I hadn't been watching, though, I still wouldn't have known." 
He took in her every word, listening to what she had to say before speaking. "I don't want to push you too far, that's all. I like what we have—I like making love to you,"—the phrase always brought a smile to his face when he said it, especially when (Y/N) grew shy—"and I didn't want it to be any different."
Pursing her lips, (Y/N) attempted to understand what he was getting at. "So, you don't actually want to? It was just a stream thing?"  
"Oh, no," Harry stopped her, a huff of his laughter fanning across her skin, "I definitely want to, trust me. I want you to want it too, and not jus' because y'feel like it would make me happy." 
"I feel like we do a lot of things because we know it makes each other happy, though," she started, maneuvering her arms until they were looped around his neck with her fingers edging into his hairline on the nape of his neck, "I don't think that's a bad thing as long as we're both comfortable, right?" 
"You do watch scary movies with me," he smiled, drawing a small breath of laughter out of her lungs, "But this is a little different, don't you think? I don't want to do anything with your body that you're not one hundred percent excited for. 'M only happy if you are too." 
Rolling her lips between her teeth, she leaned into his hand on her jaw. "I am excited, though—I want to do this. I just wish you had told me first." 
"Me too," he smiled, "Promise I wasn't trying to hide anything from you, I was only trying not to scare you." 
"I know," she murmured, turning her face until she pressed her lips into a small kiss against his palm, "I'm not scared—you already promised you'd be gentle." 
His grin widened at her reference to his stream, surely remembering his own fantasy in detail now that she was offering it up. "I did, didn't I?"
 "Mhm," she hummed, using that hold she had around his neck to draw him nearer, "You said a lot of things." 
"And, you liked it." 
"I did," she confirmed, the tip of her nose grazing his, "You don't make it sound scary or gross, or anything?" 
"Yeah?" he laughed, tipping his chin until he could press a tiny peck to her lips, "How do I make it sound?" 
"Really hot," she admitted, "I forgot everything I studied about as soon as I started listening to you." 
Harry gave a disapproving hum, teasing her. Resting the pad of his thumb against the full of her lips, he kept her from kissing him again, leaving her to listen as he spoke. "We'll have to work on that again later then, won't we? Go to the library again for some motivation?" 
The reminder of the time they had gone to the library and Harry helped her through that mental block with his hand between her legs was enough to get her squirming in his lap once more. He had to know exactly where her mind had gone when she saw his grin stretch his dimpled cheeks. 
"But, I should probably take care of you now," he mused, finally slipping his thumb from her lips as he smeared a kiss across her pout. "Y'deserve it for being so patient and talking to me about what you want." 
"I do," she absently agreed, melting into him. She was willing to take whatever he would give. 
(Y/N) indulged in the pillow of his lips, parting her mouth and taking the taste of him across her tongue. It was easy to slip back into that place with him, where her thoughts were wisps and her desires were candles lit aflame. His cock was still heavy in his lap, right where her core was resting with spread thighs, his lips still swollen, and skin still warm. 
"I love you," he murmured on a breath, breaking away though he didn't stray too far from her with his forehead resting on hers, "Let's go to bed, sweetheart." 
She let out a dreamy okay, following after him once he had her settled on her feet, back towards his bedroom. They didn't bother to close the door behind them, in too much of a rush before Harry was roughly handling her to be tossed amongst the folds in his bedding. 
A bright peal of laughter fell from (Y/N)'s lips at the act, her eyes creasing and cheeks split wide. Harry climbed his bed with a matching smile, hovering over her. 
"So pretty, you know that," he crooned, dropping a kiss on the apple of her cheek before he began his own pathway across her skin. He followed the soft planes of her face, grazing her eyelids and the bridge of her nose. (Y/N) couldn't help the soft breaths of laughter that followed the more affection he piled on her. 
"You're pretty," she answered through her smile, placing her hands on his cheeks to keep him from straying too far once he finally rested on her lips. 
A sly smile on his mouth kept her from getting a real kiss from him. He was bubbling up with something, she was sure. 
"I know," he teased, "You think 'm pretty enough to play with your cute butt, so." 
"Don't say it like that," she whined though her complaint held no grit through her toothy smile. She made a halfhearted attempt at pushing him away, though Harry stayed right where he was above her. 
"Am I wrong? I seem to remember a certain conversation we had just a minute ago." 
She didn't bother to answer him, instead smushing her lips against his in a silencing kiss. It was a bit off center, not quite matching up with her nose smushed against his cheek, but that didn't matter much to either of them. Harry happily fell into the contact without a single complaint.
Soon enough the silly kiss had melted into something serious, warm and languid. He laid heavily between her legs, his cock straining against his sweats with her loose shorts doing little to cover herself. His chest was pressed against hers, heartbeats side by side with every breath marked by the extra push of his blocky muscles against her breasts. 
By the time her breath was taken from her lungs, Harry pulled away first. He skimmed his kiss-swollen lips over her skin until he was hovering by her ear. "Y'really want to try it out tonight?" 
It didn't take a second thought before she was nodding her head.
"We'll go slow, (Y/N)," he cemented, pulling away to match her eyes intensely, "Jus' tell me to stop if you change your mind." 
"I will," she answered, knowing he wouldn't move on until he had that verbal confirmation from her, 
He gave her a pleased smile before he dipped down and pressed another small kiss to her lips. "Flip over for me, sweetheart." 
The flames in her stomach pitched into a bonfire at his command. That had been exactly what she was picturing. Harry gave her space to roll onto her tummy, helping her move until she was on her knees with legs spread and cheek pressed against his pillow. 
"This alright?" he checked in, dragging his warm hands down the backs of her thighs. 
She nodded with a pleasant smile on her mouth. "This is how I pictured it," she murmured.
Harry's touch solidified at her words, less glancing fingertips and more weight on his palms as he caressed her skin and felt every inch of the plush fullness. "You pictured it?
Her ribcage practically rattled against her heartbeat as he started pulling down her shorts and panties. He helped her navigate pulling them off of her bent legs and ankles with the way her mind was too preoccupied. Why didn't she just show up naked? It would have made this so much easier. 
"Uh-huh," she breathed, answering his question, "I-I wasn't sure what you had in mind, but I hoped it was like this." 
Harry hummed, bending down to press a kiss to the small of her back. He pushed the hem of her loose shirt up, revealing more and more of her skin though they were both too in a rush to take the time to completely undress her. Soon enough, Harry's shirt joined her shorts and underwear on the floor, his sweats and boxing being all that clothed him for the moment. 
"I have lots of ideas, sweetheart," he murmured, starting a path of planted kisses on the hills of her spine. "We'll only get through a couple today, but if y'like it, we can try so much more." 
The promise that there was more he wanted to show her, more times that she would be wrapped in his sheets, more of him that she would accept without a doubt, was enough to get her pussy fluttering. 
Going down the line, Harry started kissing over the globes of her bottom, delicate sweeps of his lips over the sensitive skin. She couldn't help the goosebumps that touched her skin, unfamiliar with the feeling of anything other than his strong hands skimming this part of her. 
"Gonna eat you out first, okay, flower?" he crooned, his words fanning out across her skin, "We'll start there, and we'll see how you feel." 
"Okay, Harry," she sighed, trusting him from where she lay with her cheek squished into the pillow and eyes fluttering to a close. The only thing she didn't love about this position: she couldn't see him. 
A beat later, she could feel the warmth of his breath fan across her core. She tensed some at the surprise, feeling her insides squeeze knowing that he was that close. She only had enough time to register that exhale before the flat of his tongue was licking through her wetness. Her own breath was sucked out of her lungs at the first touch against her clit, her folds being spread wide open around the width of his tongue. 
Sagging towards the bed, she arched her back that much more for him, presenting any and everything for him. Harry wrapped his hands around her thighs, palms warming the tops while his fingers wrapped around to the side insides and dented the delicate skin. His grip was steadying as he pointed the tip of his tongue and explored her opening, her walls pulsing. 
An all too smug breath of laughter fell from his lips when he pulled away. "Feeling good, sweetheart? Tell me." 
"So good, H," she bubbled immediately, no other thoughts attempting to take over at the moment. 
"Who?" he pressed, his hands on her thighs tightening though he didn't dip back down to her pussy like she wanted. 
"So good, daddy," she corrected, all but keening into him, hoping she gave the right answer and would feel more of him sliding through her folds and tasting her wetness. 
"That's better, sweetheart," he praised her.
With that, Harry's tongue was once more slipping through her wetness. He smeared his tongue across her core, taking in everything she had to offer while leaving a mess behind, comprised of both her slick and his saliva. Wet sounds filtered through his bedroom, along with the heady breathing coming from her and the contented noises coming from Harry. 
By the time (Y/N) had her slick covering her thighs, enough wetness to make her worry she was going to start dripping over his bed (though, seeing as how he enjoyed making her squirt, she doubted he would have minded), Harry began focusing his tongue over her pulsing entrance. More and more slick wept from her hole as he pointed the tip and slipped inside amongst her tight walls. She shuddered at the feeling, her breathing hitching as she attempted to bring in a deep breath. 
Before she could even register that she was missing contact on her clit, his fingertips were pressing against the bud. Tight circles were drawn around the top of her slit, her legs beginning to shake now that there was so much moire to focus on but less room in her brain to spare. He kept his other hand steady on her thigh, keeping her from falling while simultaneously being her grounding anchor. 
Her wetness dipped down his fingers, tainting his palm with a thin glimmer. Harry pulled away for a heartbeat, his breathing heavy. She could imagine the shine on his chin and nose, the flush to his cheeks, and the way he would be staring at her with intensity in his eyes. She could feel that heated gaze as his fingers trailed through her messy slit. 
When he reached her hole, he lingered for only a second before he was skipping upwards. Though (Y/N) knew this was coming, she still felt her heart skip a beat, her breathing shatter as she waited with bated breath.
He brought his slick fingers to her second entrance. In an instant, (Y/N) felt herself tense up, the foreign feeling shocking her. 
"'S alright, flower," Harry crooned to her, his words fanning across the rounded globes of her ass, "Jus' relax. 'S only me, and 'm going to be gentle, remember?" 
"I remember, I remember," she muttered in a rambling blurt. Honestly, if she had been asked what exactly she was remembering at that moment, she wouldn't have been able to give a straight answer. 
Working her through that initial shock, Harry circled his slick fingers around the puckered skin, delving his tongue back into her pussy to give her something familiarly fantastic to cling to. Her legs took as she took in the duo of feelings, her clit being laved over by his tongue with a part of her she never thought could be stimulated now pulling the breath from her lungs.
"Still feeling good, love?" he asked, drawing away for just long enough to ask before he was licking through her folds once more. 
It didn't take a second thought before she was breathing out, "Uh-huh, uh-huh." 
There was nothing else for her to say—especially if she wanted to sound coherent. Though it was still odd, the feeling of his wandering fingers, every pass of his fingertips over the tight opening had a pulse ringing through her insides. The flames in her stomach were tight and warm, coiling into a burn. 
"I knew you'd like it, sweetheart," he mumbled against her pussy, "Told you I'd be gentle. Jus' wanna open you up a little for me to fit a finger in, is that okay?" 
(Y/N) felt her eyes squeeze to a shut, creases knitting her brows together. "It's okay," she breathlessly answered, half-parroting his words back to him as that was all she could process in the moment. 
A groan rumbled through Harry's chest, the sound vibrating over her core. "You want that? Want me to finger your tight little ass, love?" 
Until Harry, those words would have turned her off, had her curling in on herself and ending whatever encounter had gone south, but hearing the vulgar request in his dulcet tone, rounded with lust, had both her entrances pulsing around nothing. 
"Tell me you want it, sweetheart." 
"I want it, daddy," she breathed out, a short whine cutting her off when he thumbed at her slick rim, trying to spread her open just like he said, "Please." 
"You're doing so good, my love," he murmured, dropping a kiss to the sensitive crease just between her thigh and the slick spread of her core. "'M going to give you everything y'want. I jus' need you to relax." 
Bringing her bottom lip between her teeth, (Y/N) sagged towards the mattress. She thought she had been relaxed, easing into everything and welcoming his touch. "I-I'm trying," she whined, "I thought I was doing good." 
"You are, flower, I promise," he soothed her, another kiss to the slick skin, "Y'might be thinking about it too much, that's all. Y'need a distraction, don't you?" 
(Y/N) didn't want to be distracted from a single touch he gave her, if she was being honest. She wanted to feel everything, know where his hands were, and find what she liked most. But, she supposed she might be too aware of every graze of his fingers, her body instinctively tensing and moving. 
"I think you do, sweetheart," Harry continued when he didn't get a response. 
The bed shifted behind her then, his hand stilling on her backside before she could feel his hips pressing against her ass. His thighs were lined up against her own with his hard cock sliding through the wetness of her folds. 
A gasp fell from her lips, the tip of his heavy prick nudging her clit. She felt her insides pulse, including the already tight hole he was trying to work open. She keened back against him, slicking his shaft and the trimmed patch of hair at the base. 
Smug laughter sounded behind her, Harry sounding much too pleased with himself and the reaction he could garner from her. 
"Stay still for me, love," he instructed her, "'M gonna help you." 
The steadying hand he had placed on her hip disappeared then, instead fisting at his cock before he was nudging the head into her entrance. Slick with both his saliva and every weep of her wetness, he slid in with no problems, a wet slap sounding once he bottomed out. (Y/N) reveled in the familiar feeling of fullness, completely spread wide open for his cock to push through her tight walls. She could feel the ridge of his head, the length of his veins, the slight curve that aimed him perfectly at the soft spot on her walls. 
She would never be used to the depth he reached in her, remembering the way he had teased such a thing on a stream before they even knew one another. She had figured it was nothing more than fantasy talk back then, something to get his viewers going as well as feed into something Harry could cum to. Now, she knew that was all very much the truth, feeling the stretch in her own body as if he were nudging as deep as her stomach. 
"Better, sweetheart?" he muttered, rearing his hips back before thrusting forward. He kept her on balance with his hand returning to her hip. Slick noises erupted around his cock as he sunk in, his hips slapping against her thighs. 
The pads of his fingers circled her back entrance through his distraction, though her attention had trouble splitting between his heavy cock and the foreign touch. She could feel the way he did his best to gently spread her open, easing her into being able to take one of his thick fingers.
"B-Better, daddy," she cried, reaching blindly for this hand on her hip. She needed something gentle and familiar, she decided. 
Harry welcomed her innocent touch, lacing their fingers together over the full of her hip together though her hold was decidedly looser given the monumental distractions she was going through. 
"Good," he huffed, matching that of a particularly hard thrust he gave. 
In that same moment, (Y/N) could feel the tip of one of his fingers slide inside her untouched opening. She gasped, mouth dropping open into a gape. 
It was more startling than anything, the small intrusion causing her body to tense up. 
"No, don't do that, sweetheart," Harry gently scolded her, keeping the pacing of his hips as he fucked her pussy, "Stay relaxed for me. You're doing so good, no need to be scared." 
She wanted to listen to him, she really did, but she didn't know how to relax. All she could manage was closing her eyes, flexing her fingers around his own, and focusing on the familiar parts of his touch. She tried to right her breathing, fix the uneven shuddering and replace it with something steady and consistent. 
"That's so much better, sweetheart," he cooed, dropping down to press a kiss to her shoulder, "Keep going, love. 'S jus' me." 
While she didn't feel as if she were relaxing any considering how tightly wound her tummy was and the pulsing of her walls, she was happy to hear that she was easing up for him. Her efforts increased tenfold when that same slick finger pushed deeper inside of her, the knuckle of his digit catching before he could go further. 
(Y/N) couldn't have prepared for how full she felt with his cock running through her walls and the small intrusion of his finger in her backside. The pace of her breathing she had tried to curate, the even intakes and exhales, was thrown out the window the second she allowed herself to take in the full breadth of that feeling. 
She could feel him everywhere: the slap of his thighs against the back of her own, his hand in hers, his cock spreading her open, and his finger venturing into her ass for the first time. 
There was no room in her head for anything but him; no wispy thoughts or anything that could form coherent words. She was drifting through his bedsheets as he did as he pleased with her. 
With her attention only on him and he he felt, she could feel the twitch of his cock through her walls, everything stretched so tight around him. He barely stroked his finger through her back entrance, pulling it out the smallest amount before pushing back through. He was curating two opposing rhythms, leaving a part of him inside her at all times. 
The thought had a broken moan leaving her lips.
"Fuck, you're so hot, baby," Harry muttered, the burn of his gaze trapped on her ass, "Gonna make me cum just from seeing my finger in your ass." 
"I-I—" she floundered, unsure of where her mind was as well as the moisture in her throat, "I-I want—daddy." 
A particularly harsh thrust was delivered, the bones of his hips pressing hard into her thighs. Another tiny bit of his finger sunk into her backside, enough to have (Y/N)'s back arching. 
"What do you want from daddy, sweetheart?" he asked, his voice strained and thin. His composure was waning. 
What did she want from him? What else could he give her that she wasn't already reveling in?
"C'mon, love," he coaxed, though his voice was decidedly harsher than she'd heard it before, "Don't go dumb on me yet. I still wanna hear my smart girl talk to me." 
If he thought that would help clear her mind, he was sorely mistaken when she felt another gush of her wetness seep around his cock, her clit throbbing, and walls pulsing around everything inside. He could barely move his finger though the fact that she was aware it was inside was just as effective as feeling him slide through her virgin opening.
"Oh," he sighed, bottoming out with hard and fast thrusts against her, "You liked that, my love? I'll have to remember that, won't I?" 
"Uh-huh, uh-huh." (Y/N) nodded her head with only half of her attention on what he was saying. 
He pulsed his hand around her own, keeping her steady and with him. "We'll have to save that for next time though, sweetheart. I think you're about to cum with daddy, right?" 
That was what she had wanted. The last thing he could give her was his release landing across the backs of her thighs. She could only blindly nod against the pillow, her hair sure to be a mess by the time she would actually start to care about anything other than her lust-filled body. 
"I can't last much longer, love," Harry started, his words emphasized with the way he had to grit them out, "But, I need you to cum first. Wanna see you cum with your pussy and ass filled with me. Make me proud, sweetheart." 
For (Y/N), time stopped right there. All that she was aware of was the man at her back and the perfect ribbon in her tummy that had unraveled in the most spectacular of fashion. Her mouth dropped open to a silent gape, nothing coming out given the fact she couldn't take any air in. Her head was cloudy and warm, matching the rest of her body. Points of clarity came in the form of Harry's hand on her hip, the tap of his balls against her clit, and the sharp unfamiliarity of the stretch of her second entrance. 
That was the only reason she was aware of the fact he had pulled out. She mourned the loss of him inside her—in both places—until she felt him cum against her pussy, warm ropes sticking to her skin. The mess between her legs was now a perfect miss of the both of them, dripping down the inside of her thighs.
Aftershocks came in the form of lingering spurts from Harry, and (Y/N)'s walls pulsing around nothing. She couldn't be sure when she returned to the land of the living, but when the details of Harry's room came back into focus, she swore her vision was sharper. There was a joke about good sex there, something about Harry being her cure-all, but there was no way she could even attempt a tease at the moment. 
She knew Harry was with her once more when he dropped down to press a set of kisses on the small of her back. His hands were on her hips, one still holding tightly to her own, while the other kept her steady as she began to lose her balance and sink towards his bed.
"You with me, (Y/N)?" he murmured against her skin, his voice gruff.
Flexing her fingers in his as a response, (Y/N) gave a small nod. "I'm here." 
"Oh, love," he sighed, draping himself over her back, his lips pressing to the line of his jaw and soft of her cheek, "You did so good, I love you so much. Did that feel alright? I didn't hurt you right?" 
"No, no, I felt really good," she breathed, a soft chord of laughter swaying out amongst her words, "I think I almost blacked out." 
"Oh?" he sounded, his own peals of laughter following right after, "In a good way, right?" 
Letting go of his hand, (Y/N) brought it up to pat at his cheek. "In a good way." 
"Good," he crooned, pressing a gentle kiss to the palm of her hand before he started extracting himself from her. "I'm gonna get some things to clean us up, 'kay? Stay right here." 
He must think he's so funny, she thought, but she didn't have it in her to play his back and forth at the moment. He could win this round.
By the time Harry returned with wet cloths and a pair of his shorts for her to borrow, all of the slick release coating her core and the inside of her thighs had cooled. It was an uncomfortable feeling that he took his time wiping away. He eased up around her sensitive spots, apologizing with kisses to the backs of her thighs and promises to be gentle. 
"Did y'really like it, (Y/N)? Everything we did?" Harry asked after a moment, wiping down the insides of her thighs. 
She bit at the full of her bottom lip, unsure of how to articulate what she had experienced. "It felt weird," she started, unable to find any other word to describe how she felt, "But, I liked it—a lot. I think it helped since it was you, and I love you, but it was... good." 
"Jus' good? I thought y'said you almost blacked out?" 
Blindly swatting behind her, she landed her hand in the soft swirls of his hair. She playfully pulled at the strands. "I'm too tired to play right now, stop," she laughed.
Her reprimanding hold of his hair turned into gentle carding through the curls as he took care of her. A beat passed, Harry finishing cleaning her up before he helped her into her borrowed shorts. Collapsing onto his bed, her back bouncing over the springs, she figured laundry, including the clothes on the floor, would have to wait for now.
Hovering above her, Harry looked to her with his clear green eyes—the same ones she had seen that first time in her physics class after he had taken a leap and took the seat beside her. She would be eternally grateful he had the confidence to do as much, otherwise she would have never learned just how many greens were in his irises.
"Really," he started out, voice gentle and quiet like a secret, "'M really happy y'felt good. It obviously worked very well on me too." 
(Y/N)'s lips turned into an amused smile as she reached up and pushed back the flop of curls covering his forehead. "See, this is why you tell me things like this first—not the stream." 
It was a lighthearted tease that had his mouth splitting into a smile, bunny teeth and dimples on display. He dropped his head to press an innocent kiss to the tip of her nose, though it wasn't quite as effective through his smile. 
"I've definitely learned my lesson, flower," he murmured.
(Y/N) could only tip her chin and press her lips to his. 
—————
this is.....very different SHFUSHFSUH thank u sm for reading, thank you to whoever requested, sorry for any mistakes and if theres any other ideas anyone else wants to see please send them in!
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