#Ex Girlfriend Keeps Coming Back And Leaving Top Useful Tips

[trendywaifus]

i present to you. . .sneakylink! ex girlfriend! robin who’s lovesick and routinely visits you after her tours. if anyone seen the previous ex girlfriend posts, this is a series, ill make a master list on later :) cw: transfem! reader, grinding, top!robin, lovesick! robin, vaginal penetration, petnames, praises, creampie, brief mention of handjob, riding, dry humping

↳ wild nights!

“ mmph, we can’t keep doing this robin. .” you pant, fingernails digging into the leather surface of the couch from robin’s hips rhythmically rocking back and forth against your bulge. she hums, her glossy lips kisses at your cheekbone and down to the corner of your lips. you’ve said those words many times before—this wasn’t new at all. even when her hands are all over you, exploring your pretty body which she already has engraved in her memory—even when she’s whispering honeyed words into your reddened ear as she’s stroking your cock—even when she’s making you feel like you’re heaven-sent and made just for her; you still say those words like your existence together is forbidden?

robin retracts away, just enough for her half-lidded jade eyes to gaze into yours. “ why would you want us to stop, my angel? “ she asks softly, cradling your face in her hands. you lick your lips and her gaze flicks between them and your eyes for a brief moment. “ i. . .just don’t want to get in the way of your dreams, that’s mainly the reason why i. .— “ her lips suddenly seeks yours in a passionate kiss that leaves a twinge of hotness in your belly.

she fastens her pace, grinding down on your clothed length, ripping a moan from you in which she gladly swallows. “ you’re apart of my dreams. “ she mutters in between burning kisses, “ that’s why i come back to you—in hopes of being apart of yours too, sweetheart. “ don’t you understand? you’re like her salvation, a singular warm light she wants to bask in after spending her time in thousands of spotlights.

“ r-robinn. . “ you whine, experiencing a familiar tension in your belly. “ if you keep doing that, i-i might. .mm. .” robin smiles against your lips, her hands snakes down to slip under your shirt to massage your flexed tummy. you can feel her wetness through her ruined panties, making the current wet patch on your pajamas form bigger. “ if you want to release, you can now, sweetness. “

just like that, you did—tipping your head back against the head of the couch, your hips buckles into the halovian woman’s clothed cunt as you creamed in your pajamas. robin coos, whispering sweet nothings against your sweaty skin, planting down sweet kisses that softens your bones. “ such a good girl for me. “ her hand slips pasts the waistband of your pajamas and underwear and smooths her palm over your weeping length as it twitches. she pulls her hand back, her fingers stained with your essence and brings them to her pink lips.

you gulp, watching her sinfully lick her fingers clean, still holding intimate eye contact with you as she does so. the moonlight glow seeps through the closed blinds, illuminating the living room in stripes. despite the glistening halo sitting over her head, wings fluttering about, and areas of her creamy skin beautifully highlighted by the limited moonlight, she looks like the opposite of how she presents herself in the spotlight and to others.

not long after, the mix of you and robin’s clothes are discarded on the floor. she’s on your lap, riding you like she has something to prove. her feathers tickles your skin as she peppers your neck with butterfly kisses. robin’s hands grips your shoulders, hot breath fanning against your skin as her lips part; wet muscle licking at a particular fading love mark. “ i’ll never leave you, “ she breathes and bites her bottom lip to hold back a high-pitch moan threatening to erupt from her chest. “ not when my heart beats for you.”robin’s words leaves your head spinning, your heart dizzy from the genuine devotion and love dripping from her angelic tongue.

your arms tighten around her naked frame, pushing her close to you until your chests are flushed against each other; bodies molding into one. the swollen tip of your cock rubs against the spongy patch of robin’s walls, causing her to squeeze around you. “so tight.”you whimpered, your legs turning jelly from robin’s consistent bounces. her lips desperately finds yours and she tilts her head to deepen the kiss. your chest heaves against hers as her tongue slithers in your mouth, exploring your wet cavern.

your senses is full of robin, your taste, sound, sight, touch—smell. her soft perfume mixed with sweat permeates your nose. you can feel her slick trickle down your inner thighs, gushing pussy greedily swallowing up your cock. her soft moans and mewls muffled by your lips brews a tightness within you. “ ‘gonna cum again. . “ you moaned and robin’s inner thighs firmly presses against either sides of your own thighs.

“ i-i feel it coming too. .” robin pants, pleasure flowing through her veins like a fast flowing river. after a few thrusts of your hips, they stutter irregularly and ropes of cum spills into robin. you held onto her for dear life, squeezing your eyes shut as you release in her. robin follows right after, cumming on your cock, letting out a prolonged sigh of satisfaction and pleasure. a moment of silence settles into the soft atmosphere, only the sounds of ragged breathing can be heard.

“ i love you. .“ the renowned singer breathlessly whispers in your ear for the umpteenth time and kisses your earlobe. you stay silent, mentally gathering yourself to say back those four words that’s weighing on your tongue. her palm rests right above your breast where your beating heart is sitting behind its boney cage. robin sighs dreamily, burying her face into the crook of your neck.

“ i love you too. “ you finally whisper back with genuine affection and robin’s wings flutters with joy as she presses a fond smile against your heated skin.

[yourfavoritewitchbitch]

Gator Tillman x Stripper!Reader

18+ Only! Minors DNI!

CW: Porn w/plot. AFAB!Reader. No use of Y/N. Pet names. Subby!Pathetic!Gator. Gator is lovesick. Mentions of past infidelity (no sex beforehand, but visits the reader on the regular). Girlfriend/ex-girlfriend talk. Oral (m receiving). Unprotected p in v. Creampie. Cocky!Gator at the end. Basically two toxic people.

WC: 4.7K (Oops!)

It had been a very productive night at The Tender Trap. You were just finishing up another set under the rush of the pink and red neon lights, gathering the falling tips by the bucket load as he walked in.

Looking as forlorn as ever, head hung low, his usually slicked back hair falling in and around his face and what looked to be a bruise forming under his eye.

You knew the look all too well. He ordered a beer at the bar and took his usual seat in the back taking up the entire bench, stretching his legs out still in uniform sans his kevlar and service weapon. For someone who liked to stay low key, he sure didn't know how to act the part.

You watched from the corner of your eye as his eyes trailed over you. Taking your time to slowly retreat into the dressing room, swaying your hips not bothering to cover your bare chest as you go.

You enjoyed making him wait, only making him more anxious and grumpy, all worked up just that way you liked.

As you sat at your small station reapplying your lipstick, one of the other girls walked in throwing a smirk your way.

“Your boy's out there looking for you.” She snickered.

“He's not my boy.” Replying flatly.

“You tell him that?” Laughing out, as you caught her reflection behind you.

No. You didn't have to tell him.

Gator Tillman only came around when he was fighting with his girlfriend though it seemed to be getting more frequent. You knew all the juicy, sorted details.

Finally emerging from the back, he was nursing his beer looking at the stage with his head tilted slightly, showing signs of boredom, thumb nail slowly peeling the label on his bottle.

Spotting you, his back stiffened sitting up a little straighter making your grin grow a little wider as you passed other patrons and ogling men vying for your attention.

His eyes remained steady on the stage as you sauntered over, trying to stay aloof as if he weren't here just to see you, pointedly avoiding your sultry gaze.

“Took you long enough,” he sassed, taking another swig of his beer as you sat down.

“Oh, I'm sorry Tillman. Did I keep you waiting?” Sassing right back. “Didn't even realize you were here.” Clicking your tongue.

“Nah, sweetheart, not at all. Enjoyin’ the view, drinkin’ a beer. What more could a guy ask for?” He grinned into the bottle, still looking away from you.

Your hand glides across the top of the padded bench seat, grasping his thigh making him choke on his next swig, quickly pulling the bottle from his lips wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

The glare he sent your way only made you giggle before you spoke.

“What're you in for tonight? Need a chat…” your fingertips tiptoed up the expanse of his thigh, watching as his breath hitched. “Or a little something more?” Licking your lips in anticipation of the inevitable answer.

He pushed your hand away, setting the beer down.

“Can we at least go to the back before ya’ start gettin' all handsy?” He hissed out, finally looking at you.

You scoff, rolling your eyes.

“What’s your problem? Not like your girlfriend or daddy would ever set foot in here.” Getting up as you spoke.

He lightly grabbed your wrist, preventing you from leaving his space.

“Don't. It's just… ya’ know how it is.” Deflecting. His go to before you can get him relaxed.

“No, I don’t know. But,” sighing and melting into his touch. “Come on, you can tell me about it.”

His hand trailed down, gripping yours, letting you pull him up as his large fingers wrap around yours. You'd thought numerous times about how they might feel wrapped around your neck or stuffed inside your greedy cunt.

He held tight, following you into the back, watching the way your ass looked in nothing but the thong you wore, thighs pushed out with the way your tights were digging into the plush of them. He was already hard, anticipation thrumming through him as you led him down the small hall to a private room.

It was a revolving cycle. He'd either fight with his girlfriend or on some occasions, his dad, and come find you. You were a stress relief, a way to blow off steam without any judgment.

Yeah, you might cost him an arm and a leg but you were worth it.

You stopped momentarily, whispering something to the bouncer he couldn't quite discern over the thumping base and loud music this close to the stage. The guy nodded, as you looked back and began to lead him once more, taking him down a hall where the music began to fade.

“Want another beer before we get started?” Calling over your shoulder, an almost predatory toothy grin thrown his way.

“Nah,” answering quickly. It was always the same. He wasn't interested in drinks or waiting any longer.

You enter the very last room at the end of the hall. The same red walls as the club with a small couch situated at the far end and a pole in the middle. The music was filtering in through speakers hung in the corners.

He continued past you making his way over to the couch as you locked the door. Much like in the bar, he took up most of the space. Wide and domineering.

“You never answered me out there. What're you in for tonight?” Taking long, slow strides toward him.

“I don't really wanna talk tonight.” He huffed out, as you stopped short in front of him standing between his legs.

“Someone's really grumpy.” Tilting your head, hands slowly moving up his chest to his shoulders moving your face close to his, nails digging slightly into the leather of his jacket as you trailed small kisses across his jaw.

You pulled back, gripping his chin forcefully making him look up at you.

“That little girlfriend of yours piss you off that bad?” You chuckled, but he found no amusement in your words, moving out of your grasp with a pout. You found him adorable when he was pissed.

“Poor baby,” you tsked. Pushing up and away from him. Giving him a nice sway of your hips as you walked toward the pole, gripping it and spinning back around.

“Now, Gator, how long have we done this little number? Huh? You still trying to play coy?” You began dancing to the rhythm of the music filling the room as he watched you but stayed silent.

“I know when something is bothering you.” You spoke as you continued to dance. He had to adjust himself, cock now straining in the constricting fabric of his cargos, almost painfully.

“If you don't tell me now, you know it'll just eat away at you. You can't even have any proper fun.” Dropping to the floor, crawling toward him at an agonizing pace, never taking your eyes off of him.

You slowly sat in between his legs, hands splayed on either side of his thighs so close to his length, he let out a shuttering breath as you began to lightly outline his cock with your fingertip, feeling it kick up beneath your touch.

Your number one rule was that you never fucked a client. No matter what. Each time you saw him, it became harder and harder not to give in. The way he would fall apart for you drove you absolutely crazy. He was pathetic, in all the best ways.

You laid your head on his thigh, looking up at him through your lashes.

“Gator, baby, tell me what's wrong. You'll feel so much better once you get it off your chest.” Your fake pout and doe eyes were too much.

“Fine. Fuck!” He threw his head back, exasperated because this little game you played wouldn't end until you got what you wanted.

“We fought. Again. We… I… broke up with her.” He sighed, unwilling to meet your gaze.

“Oh.” You lifted your head at that, standing to straddle his lap, legs on either side of his. Shifting to accommodate your frame as you sat down, immediately grinding your hips into his.

“Yeah…” coming out all breathy, as he hesitantly placed his hands on your hips.

“Poor baby,” continuing to move your hips across his lap, his cock hard against you with each pass and swirl igniting something within your own core.

“She… she wanted to get married and I didn't. It would have never worked out. She's just so different from… me.” What he had wanted to say was you. In the back of his mind, he knew this little thing between the two of would never really work out either. He was infatuated with the thought of you. Outside of the club he didn't know anything about you.

“That's such a shame.” Your own words coming out a little breathy, leaning close to his ear, lips pressing right under his jaw. You knew you shouldn't but you pressed in further lips sucking lightly, testing his reaction. When a small whimper escaped him, you only sucked harder, leaving a small mark behind.

His cock twitched, hips bucking up as he pressed you further down searching for more friction, blunt fingertips digging into your soft flesh. You had to bite your lower lip, suppressing a moan before it slipped out. It would be too easy to slip him out of his pants and slide down his shaft, feeling your own wetness pooling in your skimpy thongs, sticking to your folds.

Something, if you admitted to yourself, you'd also thought about numerous times. You'd heard the rumors. You'd felt his cock and knew it was big.

“You like that, Gator? Want me to mark you up? Let that little girlfriend and daddy know what you really like? What you've been up to?” You licked his pulse point, debating on sinking your teeth into his bared throat.

“Yeah.” He huffed out.

“Oh, Gator.” You pulled back, taking a hard look into his eyes. Glossed over, pupils taking over his mossy irises, now almost black.

“You'd regret it in the morning. I'm sure she'd see you and cry and you'll apologize and she'll take you back.” You chuckled, pushing off his chest slightly but he had a firm grip on your hips.

“I won't regret it.” He gritted out, nose to nose with you, lips daring to ghost over yours. “Don't you see what you do to me? I'd let you do anything to me.” Bucking his hips again for emphasis.

You'd done this cat and mouse a dozen times, always ending the same. You'd dance for him, grind on his cock all the while letting his hands roam over your hips and thighs, and even that was pushing it while trying to maintain a level of professionalism. But you always made it fun. He could vent while you'd take his mind off of whatever was bothering him, making him cum in his pants and sending him home.

“I know you would.” Taking his hands and shoving them off your waist. “But I have a rule and I'm not about to break it for you.”

Standing and striding back over to the pole, leaving his mouth gaping to stare after you.

“Why not?” He asks earnestly. As you begin to sway with the song, his eyes suddenly drifting down your hips and legs as if mesmerized by the small movements.

“You know I don't fuck clients. Period.” You shrug, turning back to him. “Even if you are a newly single man, if that's even true.”

He tilts his head for a moment, regarding you.

“You don't think I see the way ya’ look for me in the crowd when you're dancin’ up there? Or try to hold back those moans when you're back here alone with me?” He quickly rose, closing the distance between the two of you, suddenly nose to nose with him again.

“Darlin’ I think,” nose nudging yours. “You want me as bad as I want you. Tell me I'm wrong.” Hands finding your sides once more, bringing you flush to him.

Your hands found their way to his chest, to steady yourself, knees almost going weak at his insinuations. Had you been too distracted letting your facade slip? Had he seen right through you? You weren't sure but he seemed to be quickly gaining the upper hand, which simply would not do.

“Gator, baby, I think you're sadly mistaken. I try to make everyone feel like they're the only ones in the room. It's part of the show.” It slightly gnawed at you, watching the way he deflated at your words, lips pouted and eyes down turned, so utterly pathetic when he's sad.

“Go sit on the couch.” Patting his chest as he stepped away, giving yourself a reprieve in the process.

He sighed behind you, plopping back down on the faux leather seat sinking further into the cushion as you wandered back over taking up residency in his lap once more, facing away from him this time.

You swirled your hips, cock pressed hard against your ass.

“Little help?” Looking over your shoulder at him, wiggling your back. His fingers skimmed up, sending a wave of goosebumps across your skin, as he untied your top.

Lifting it above your head, you rose back up, throwing it across the room and turned back around to face him planting your knees on either side of him. Tits now eye level with him but he was looking up at you instead, making your cheeks heat. Why the fuck was he looking at you like that?

You sat back in his lap, hands roaming up the expanse of his clothed abdomen and chest as you leaned back into him, lips grazing his ear as you spoke.

“Okay Gator, maybe I have thought about you and what this big, fat cock could do to my pussy.” Grabbing his bulge for emphasis, squeezing him through his pants as he released a breathy moan.

“So, I-I was right?” You pulled back to look at him, shit eating grin across his face, eyebrow raised in your direction.

“Don't get cocky, or I'll stop this before we even get started.” Quickly shooting back, as he nodded.

“Good boy.” Hands gliding up under his jacket, pushing it off his shoulders, as he helped you pull it off and toss it somewhere across the room. “Now, lay back and relax.”

Some shitty country song was playing but you found your rhythm anyway, grinding against him. His eyes drifted to your breasts, down to where your clothed pussy rubbed against his cock.

“You fucking anybody on the side or was it just virgin Mary?”

He looked a little surprised by your question.

“Just her, but uh, it's been a while.” Sheepishly answering, cheeks suddenly tinged the prettiest shade of pink.

“Ok, good. I don't have any condoms, unless you brought one?” He shook his head. “I'm clean and on the pill. If you still want to do this.”

“Fuck yeah.” He nodded enthusiastically before you grabbed his chin, forcing him to look up at you.

“Undo your belt and pants. I want to see what I'm working with.” He didn't need to be told twice, hands quickly going to work, pulling his pants and boxers down just enough for his cock to spring free, laying between the two of you. He was much bigger than you initially anticipated. Eyes going a little wide with surprise.

He was long, and thick with a ruddy tip, already leaking a pearly bead at the slit. You licked your lips and looked back up to his smug face.

“Ya’ okay darlin’?” Finding a little humor in your sudden stupor.

Quickly flipping your demeanor smirking up at him, devilish glint in your eye as you moved from his lap to the floor settling between his thighs.

“It's a lot bigger than I expected, Gator. I'm not sure you'll fit.” Looking up through your lashes at him, laying it on nice and thick.

“Fuck, y-ya’ don't think so? My gi… my ex always said it hurt too much. Couldn't get more than half before she was cryin’.” You could imagine. His poor little girlfriend didn't realize what she was getting into with him.

You were anything but a good girl, moving closer to his raging erection and pursing your lips letting saliva pool before spitting it onto his shaft.

“Fuck!” He hissed out looking down at you with hooded eyes, as you gingerly wrapped your hand around him letting your thumb swirl at his head collecting his precum before spreading it down his cock and back up.

He squeezed his eyes shut, throwing his head back onto the couch. If he was this far gone from just a touch you weren't sure he would make it to the big finale.

“Eyes on me, big boy.” Squeezing at the base, eliciting his attention as he looked back to you.

“That's it. Couldn't let you miss this.” Saying with a salacious grin before sticking your tongue out to lick from his girthy base all the way up to his tip. The way he whimpered caught you off guard, sending a fresh wave of arousal straight to your already soaked cunt.

Your eyes never left his as you closed your lips around his leaking head, swirling your tongue and humming around the taste of him.

“Mmmm, Gator you taste so good. Did… what's her name ever do this for you?” You asked, it suddenly occurred to you that he'd never said her name out loud.

He shook his head, swallowing thickly, “No. She thought it was too…” trailing off.

“Too what? Dirty?” Kitten licking at his head before finally taking him fully into your mouth, surprising him as his hips bucked up, shoving him further down your throat, making you gag momentarily, before relaxing taking him a little further.

“Oh fuck… shit… that's… goddamn you're a dirty fuckin' girl.” He gritted out, eyes rolling back, all semblance of composure now gone as you began to bob your head, hollowing your cheeks with your hand stroking what your mouth couldn't fit.

“Wait… wait… slow down,” he suddenly huffed out. Trying to catch his breath, as you stilled and pulled off with a slick pop.

“Too much?” Looking back up at him with doe eyes and lips glistening with his arousal.

“Fuck… just fuck me… please?” He sounded pathetic; brow pinched with frustration at his pleading words. “I've thought about this for way too long. I want yo-your pussy.”

“What a needy baby.” Standing back up and planting yourself back on his lap. Just a thin layer of fabric separating the two of you now as you straddled his cock, feeling the heat of him pressed against you.

He leaned in, lips searching for yours, but you pulled back, hands on his chest holding him there.

“No kissing.”

“You'll fuck me raw but draw the line at kissin’?” Confusion flashing across his features.

“Yeah Tillman, I can't have you falling in love with me. This is a one time thing.” You giggled, pulling his hands up and placing them on your breasts as you began to move your hips, dick catching your clit, eliciting a moan from your lips but you didn't hold back this time letting it escape.

“Ya’ sound so pretty. Can I?” You looked back at him as he nodded toward your boobs still held in his hands.

“Can you what? Use your big words.”

“Can I suck your tits? They're so perfect an’ pretty. You're so fuckin' pretty.” Watching the way he kneaded them between his calloused hands as he spoke.

“Go ahead.” He quickly ducked his head, hand trailing to your lower back pressing you further into him as he sucked one of pert nipples into his mouth, swirling his tongue before lightly biting, making you arch into him before he switched to the other side giving it the same attention.

While he was mildly distracted, you took the opportunity to reach down and slide your panties to the side exposing you fully to him, grinding down once more. He popped off, almost breathless looking down between the two of you.

Wasting no time, you raised yourself up, guiding him to your entrance, letting his tip catch slightly looking him in the eye. You both looked a little desperate.

“You sure you want to fuck me, Gator? This dirty, little stripper? You could go back to your girlfriend right now.” The last part came out a little breathy when you sank down a fraction, but it was enough to slightly short circuit your brain.

“Please.” Slipped past his lips so quietly, if you hadn't been looking directly at him you would have missed it.

You watched his eyes roll back, as you began to slide down his aching cock, moans from both of you filled the air. Inch by inch, you took him further than he had imagined anyone could. If you weren't so soaked and horny you knew it would be a stretch for you.

His hands found your waist, grip tight as he dug into your supple flesh as you continued to sink further onto him.

As you neared the base, his girth began splitting you open in the best possible way as you stilled your movements, giving yourself a moment to adjust.

He refused to open his eyes, as good as it felt, he was afraid if he looked at the way your pussy had engulfed him, he'd burst right then and there.

You saw the way he held an almost pained expression. His jaw was slack, breathing heavily, already absolutely wrecked.

Moving your hips back up, removing him almost entirely, cock head staying buried in your tight heat, you swirled your hips slightly before working back down.

“Oh my God! Fuck!” He all but cried out, whimpering when you took him a little deeper this time, halting when his cock all but nudged at your cervix.

“Fuck! You're so deep!” You moaned out, grabbing his hand, pressing it to your lower abdomen. “Bet you can feel yourself in there? Huh?”

“Jesus Christ!” He hissed, finally looking down to where the two of you connected.

“No, just me, Gator.” You laughed, pushing his hand away, as you started bouncing lightly at first. His cock massaging your inner walls with each delicious up and down motion.

The way your walls were sucking him in, constricting around him with each pass he wasn't going to last long. Luckily, neither were you. You'd worked both of yourselves up into a fevered frenzy, ready to combust.

His cock was brushing that spot deep within you as you slowed down your movements. Grinding more than a bounce, the patch of hair at the base of his cock catching your clit with each pass igniting that spark in your lower belly. You closed your eyes, letting the feeling take over.

“You want me to cum all over your cock?” You rushed out, hand snaking up, pulling at the locks at the back of his head.

“Yes! Oh, fuck!” He whined out, not sure where his eyes should land, switching between your blissed out face, bouncing tits and back to where your pussy was staking claim to his dick. He was ruined.

Your moans grew louder as you neared your impending release, no longer able to stifle them as you continued to ride him.

His grip on you getting harsher with each passing second, sure to leave finger shaped bruises behind as he grew more desperate.

You felt that white hot heat pooling in your lower belly, as his cock continued to prod up against that spot along your frontal wall that made you see stars. You worked your pelvis a little more back and forth, feeling it again and again with each grind.

“Ahhh! Fuck! Gator, I'm… I'm…” You couldn't get the words out before you started to come undone. Your cunt clamped down around him, practically strangling his cock as he held tight to you, holding your hips steady as he began to fuck up into your tight heat, working you through your release and chasing his own.

Your fingernails dug into his shoulders, as you continued to moan and writhe atop him, trying not to collapse, as he used you like his own personal fuck toy.

A few more sloppy thrusts and he pulled you down on him, crying out as he practically impaled you on his length. He felt his balls tighten while letting out a guttural moan as his release spilled into your tight channel, a few more weak thrusts and he dropped his hands.

Too spent, you didn't move right away as you both sat there, chests heaving, trying to catch your breath.

“Shit,” you growled, knocking you both from a peaceful afterglow. You were seven minutes over his time and lucky that no one had started looking for you yet.

You peeled yourself away from him, hissing as he slipped out of you and pulled your thong back into place.

“Why the rush darlin’?” He asked, adjusting himself back into his pants and sitting up.

“You're over your paid time with me, Gator. This isn't a fucking hangout. Let's go.” Finding his jacket on the floor and tossing it directly at his chest as you pulled your top back on.

You reached for the handle once he had straightened himself up, throwing his jacket back over his shoulders.

“Hey, wait.” He called out before you turned the knob. “You goin’ back to work?”

“After that?” You snorted at the absurdity of it. If you didn't get to the dressing room, he'd be dripping down your leg. “Hell no, I've made enough tonight. I'm going home.”

“Yeah, that's good.” Nodding his head. “Ya’ need a ride?” Looking at you a little hopeful after what had just transpired.

“Gator Tillman, such a gentleman?” You chuckled. “Look, we don't have to do this. It was just sex, that you practically paid for. I'm not your girlfriend, I'm just a good time.” You winked at him, turning the handle but before you could open the door, he was behind you, arm outstretched above your head, palm pressed heavy into the wood.

You looked back at him, wondering if you'd suddenly said something wrong but that shit eating grin was back as he looked down his nose at you, eyes full of mischief.

“Thought I'd try to be nice, instead of just suggestin’ I could take you somewhere and bend you over the bed of my truck. But ya’ don't seem to like nice.” His words traveling straight to your core.

“Good to see that cocky demeanor is still intact, Tillman, but I told you this was a one time thing.” You smirked, pushing at his chest enough to get the door open and slip out, leaving him a little stunned. He watched you disappear down the hall, sighing as he made his way back to the front to pay the rest of his tab.

Once you made it to the dressing room you didn't bother cleaning up, pulling off your tights and throwing on some shorts and a tank top while haphazardly tossing your belongings back into your bag as you quickly exited the back.

You knew you'd fucked up. That lovesick look in his eye told you everything. You could eat this man alive, and he would smile while letting you. All without knowing your real name.

But it's just a little fun, right? What's a little more? You'd already broken your first rule, why not make the most of it?

Pleased to see you'd made it outside first, you propped yourself up against the wall close to the alley and lit a cigarette watching the front.

He finally stepped out, keys in his hand walking over to his truck. When he turned his back, that's when you finally spoke.

“Hey, Tillman!” He quickly turned; eyes wide as you strode up to him. “You still offering that ride?”

Tagging some mooties that might be interested: @hellfirenacht @thecreelhouse @xxbimbobunnyxx

[babydollmarauders]

BEGIN AGAIN — NICO HISCHIER

nico hischier x fem!reader

request: “Hi I have another request if that’s okay with you! It’s another Taylor inspired one of course. Could you do a fic with Nico inspired by Begin Again. The ex boyfriend in the song could be Trevor or some other hockey player to add some angst.”

summary: eight months after having her heart broken, y/n regains hope in love after meeting meeting Nico.

warnings: mentions of cheating

notes: this is one of my favorite Taylor songs and i got SO EXCITED when i saw this request! i wrote this with Mat Barzal in mind as the ex-boyfriend, just because i wanted to keep it as someone kinda close to the NJ area, but not another Devil, however i’m sorry if that upsets anyone. he’s only mentioned a couple of times, so if you wanna imagine him as another hockey player named “matt” you have full right to do so.

“it’s been eight months babe, maybe it’s time for you to get back out there.”

logically, i know Nicole is right, but the thought of dating again causes a shiver down my spine. i’ve had some of the worst luck with boyfriends, most recently my ex, Mat. after ten months of dating, in which my friends kept telling me he had too many red flags, i caught him in bed with a girl he used to tell me was like a sister to him. since we broke up eight months ago, i’ve given up on finding someone to spend my life with. but my friends haven’t fully accepted my disbelief in love, urging me to try again, and with how lonely i’ve been recently, i’m warming to the idea.

“you know, Jesper has a teammate i could set you up with. i think you guys would really hit it off. and think about how fun it would be to go to games together!” Nicole speaks again, breaking through my self-pity filled thoughts.

“i don’t know. i don’t know if i wanna date any more hockey players, Nic.” i take my eyes off my half painted toenails, looking at her from across the couch. “i’ve only had bad experiences with them. i think Matt was my tipping point.”

“give them one more chance! they’re not all like that. i think you would really click with this guy. just one date! and if you don’t have a good time then i won’t persist.”

“one date?” i ask.

“one date.” she confirms, i shrug and focus back on my toenails, finishing my painting.

“okay. one date.” i tell her. Nicole squeals and sets her own nail polish down on the coffee table, jumping up and doing a little happy dance. i let out a laugh and roll my eyes.

not too long after our conversation, there’s a knock on my apartment door and Nicole’s boyfriend walks in. i met Nicole about a week after i moved to New Jersey, two years ago. we first became quick friends after meeting at a bookstore and bonding over our love for mysteries. then when she started dating Jesper, he fit right in and our duo has become a trio. they soon moved in together a couple apartments down the hall from me and now it’s become a routine for her to hang out over here while he’s at practice and he comes to get her once he gets home.

Jesper greets me with a hello before kissing his girlfriend on the top of the head. Nicole beams up at him and i feel a twinge of envy settle in my heart. i love their love, and i can’t help that there’s a part of me that feels like i’ll never get that kind of connection with someone.

“babe! you’ll never believe what happened!” Nicole squeals.

“what?” he asks, amusement laced in his voice and a smile on his face.

“y/n agreed to let me set her up with Nico!” he chuckles and looks over at me. i give a dejected shrug and he shakes his head.

“always the little matchmaker.” he chides, amused, before he jokes. “well, come on, you meddler. let’s go back to our own apartment and let y/n/n wallow with her Taylor Swift in peace.”

“i resent that.” i pipe up. but he just raises an eyebrow at me and i sink farther into the couch. okay, so maybe he’s not far off. i do have a habit of cranking up some Red (Taylor’s Version) and getting wine drunk.

Nicole and Jesper leave, with her promising to text me about a date between me and this Nico guy.

and true to her word, i wake up the next morning with a text from Nicole.

From: Nicole

wednesday at noon! at the café down the street! here’s his number: Nico Hischier, (xxx) xxx-xxxx . HAVE FUN!

i have to admit, i admire her dedication.

**

wednesday morning came faster than i wanted it to, and i kept my expectations low, expecting the worst from this date, as usual.

i show up at the café at exactly noon, contradicting my usual early arrivals, as guys never actually show up on time. but when i step into the café, i’m surprised when a handsome brunette stands from a seat at a table towards the back and waves at me with a shy smile. i fail to bite back my own grin as i make my way over to him.

“Nico?” i ask, holding my hand out.

“that’s me.” he confirms, slipping his hand in mine to shake before we drop them and he pulls the other chair out, motioning for me to take a seat. once i’m seated, he takes his seat across from me. “you must be y/n?”

“that’s me.” i nod. “i am so sorry if Nicole forced you into this. i’m convinced the word ‘no’ isn’t in her vocabulary.”

he chuckles and shakes his head.

“no, no. she didn’t. actually, as soon as she told me about you, i asked her to set this up.” his words surprise me, i was under the impression that this was Nicole’s idea. i can’t stop the blood rushing to my cheeks, painting them red.

“oh, i didn’t know that.” i look down at my hands, fidgeting on the table in front of me. “well, uh, tell me about yourself, Nico. the only thing Nicole told me was that you play hockey with Jesper. and i think i’ve deduced from your accent that you’re… Swiss? i think i got that right, but i might actually be horrible at guessing accents.”

he laughs again and my butterflies erupt in my stomach. he has a gorgeous laugh.

“no, you’re right, i’m from Switzerland.” he nods, confirming my guess. “and as you said, i play for the Devils with Jesper. but besides that-”

he continues telling me about himself, and i’m leaned on my elbows, listening to him talk. for once, i’m genuinely interested to hear about the man sitting in front of me. when he asks about myself, i give him all the truths, not holding back from telling him about my interests and family. before i know it, it’s been two hours and Nico is walking me down the block to my car before he leaves for an afternoon practice. we’re walking in silence, and i ponder the idea of telling him about my ex. knowing it might be better to get it out in the air now. but then Nico starts back up our last discussion from in the café, about christmas traditions.

“we have a tradition of watching a movie called Drei Haselnüsse für Aschenbrödel, which i think in english is called Three Wishes for Cinderella. it started when my sister Nina was young.” i push my thoughts away and give him my full attention, engrossed in what he has to say. taking this as a sign to wait for that discussion.

when we arrive at my car, i’m pleasantly surprised that i don’t actually want to leave. unlocking my car, i open my door and throw my purse in on the passengers seat before turning back to Nico, who stands with a small smile on his face and his hands in his pockets.

“i, uh, i’d really love to see you again. if you’re up for that?” i say. his half smile turns into a grin and he nods.

“yeah, i’d like that a lot. maybe next time we can actually go out to dinner or another proper date outing. i’m sorry that today was just coffee.” he says and i shake my head.

“that sounds great but, don’t sell yourself short. i had a really nice time today. besides, i know hockey players don’t always have free schedules but, i really like you so i’ll take whatever i can get. even if it’s just a twenty minute date eating mcdonald’s.” i tell him, shrugging my shoulders as i lean against my car.

“let’s hope it doesn’t come to that!” he jokes, and i let my giggle slip out freely. he shifts his weight back and forth on his feet as we stand in silence for a second, just smiling at each other, content with ourselves. “i better get going, my car is back at the café. but is it okay if i text you? or better yet, call you?”

“i’d love that. but, wait, your car is back there? why did you walk me all the way over here then?” i laugh. “we could’ve parted ways back there! now i feel bad that you walked past your car just to walk with me.”

“i just didn’t want this to end yet.” he shrugs. “i’d do it again if i had the choice.”

his words make me blush and i look down at my feet.

“you text me, or call me, or hell, i’m sure Nicole will gladly tell you where i live. just, don’t ghost me.” i halfheartedly joke. he smiles one last time and shakes his head, starting to walk backwards away from my car.

“oh trust me, you’ve got me hooked now. you’re not getting rid of me that easily.” he calls out to me and i bark out a laugh and slide into the drivers seat, closing the door behind me.

god, i hope not.

[sagesworld17]

could you write a mbappe smut based on the song „shameless“ by the weeknd? tysm i loved ur last smut😻

thank youuu, this was a bit hard but i tried i hope you like it(:

kylian mbappe x reader

!WARNING! smut

Me and Kylian started sleeping with eachother a few months ago. I caught feelings for him but I never said anything because I didn’t think he liked me more than just a friend. Well friend with benefits. I liked him a lot and didn’t want to lose him and make things awkward. And with all that aside I didn’t think I was ready for another relationship after what I went through with my ex. It’s not that I was afraid of love, I was afraid of another heartbreak. And it felt like with him, it would be the worst kind.

“Wanna come over?” i texted him on a friday night. I knew he didn’t have practice that day and we hung out almost every weekend anyways. He texted me not even 5 minutes after telling me he is already on the way.

We were laying on the couch, watching a movie while cuddling. I sat up and kissed his cheek then stood up to grab a glass of water. As I was pouring myself a cup he walked over to me and hugged my waist from behind. I drank half of the glass and sat it down on the counter, turning around to look at him. He cupped my face and kissed me. “Ive been wanting to tell you something” he said out of the blue. “Yeah?”

“I want this… I want us to be more than just whatever we are right now.” My eyes widened with shock and I didn’t know how to respond. “I’m saying I like you and i want you to be my girlfriend.” “I like you too but Ky-“ “But?” “But I don’t think I’m ready for another relationship, I don’t want to ruin something this good and what we have right now is really good.”

He placed his hand on my cheek, rubbing his thumb up and down. “Hey, you’re not going to ruin anything. And I’m not like your ex either. I would never hurt you. I’ll always be there for you, because you’re so special to me. Im all in with you.” He smiled. A smile appeared on my face too and I rolled my eyes playfully at him. “Okay.” I said. “Okay?” he raised his eyebrows at me. I wrapped my arms behind his neck “I’ll be your girlfriend.” and kissed him. He kissed me back and smiled against my lips. He pulled away an inch and nodded his head to the bedroom door. I nodded and he grabbed my hand, walking to the bedroom.

I pushed him on the bed and climbed on his lap, straddling him. We continued kissing, his hands roaming all over my body, exploring every inch like it was his first time touching me. His touch was so familiar, making me feel the most comfortable I have ever felt. I pulled off my shit and moved off of him, laying on the bed. He was right on top of me after taking his shirt off. He kissed down my neck, sucking on my soft spot, marking me as his own. Finally. I tilted my head back as he pushed his hips against me. I reached my hand down and started unzipping his pants, struggling a little. “Let me help you with that amour.” He pulled off his pants alongside with his boxer and meanwhile I took off mine. He alined his tip with my entrance, looking at me for approval. Once I nodded he pushed into me in one fast motion, making me whimper loudly. He started moving slowly, keeping eye contact with me. “Faster” I moaned and he obliged.

My backed arched from the bed, not so quiet moans leaving my mouth and he pushed his hand down on my lower stomach. “Who’s gonna fuck you like me?” His dirty words always turned me on so much when we had sex but this sentence brought me back from the clouds, making me realise I never even want to think about another man touching me. “Noone.” I managed to reply. My breathing was heavy, I was panting and moaning loudly, while he slammed into me, hitting all the right spots. He knew my body so well. But not just that. When he looked into my eyes while fucking me it felt like he also knew my soul and that I knew his. “That’s right ange, now be good and come for me.” he smiled. My legs tightened around his waist. My eyes escaped to the back of my head and I was in the clouds again when I reached my climax. He kept going for a while, searching for his high while I slowly got back to reality. It almost got too much to bare but he finished and pulled out of me, kissing my forehead. He layed down next to me, the room filled with our heavy breathing. I was looking up at the ceiling smiling to myself when he turned my head to him and kissed me. “I can’t believe you’re finally mine.”

Side note:

i had a ton of schoolwork to do this week so I didn’t have much time to write. I will have plenty this weekend and I promise to write the rest of the requests. I also wanted to thank you for the support, it means so much to me I never thought this many people would read and actually like my imagines❤️.

[zendayacs]

It’s not over

A/N: This is literally so late and I’m sorry but Hailee Steinfeld has taken over my life and I love her for it. This is set during Ep. 4 of Hawkeye. 

Pairing(s): Kate Bishop x female reader

Warnings: Kissing and slight drama (literally nothing too bad), mild violence

Word count: ~2.1K

Read on AO3

           Scrolling through your phone sounded like the dream way to end this absolutely horrendous day. Sadly, you would be spending the rest of the night collaborating with an avenger to come up with a plan to save your ex girlfriend. It’s not like you didn’t care, quite the opposite actually, it’s just that you thought that your days of espionage were over, put behind you after you were saved from the red room by the woman you knew as Yelena. But alas, here you sat on your couch, feet propped up on top of the dented coffee table as Kate paced the floor in front of you, trying to absorb the sudden info dump you placed onto her.

“Clint this doesn’t surprise you? At ALL?!?!” Kate exclaimed while shaking her head at you in disbelief.

“I mean it’s not impossible. It hasn’t been that long since Na- Since the red room was taken down. Makes perfect sense. Now. Can we please get back to the plan?” Clint sighs and repositions the frozen bag of margarita mix onto his forehead. “K,  just sit down. Pace anymore and you’re gonna run a hole into the floor.” You sighed as you stretched forward, your heel creating another small dent in the well worn table. “It’s no big deal. I’ll help you and then we never have to talk again. I know how much you care about being around me.” At this you sat forward to grab the computer that was teetering on the edge of the couch deciding that the S key was way more interesting than the sudden look of surprise on Kate’s face. 

Bishop on the other hand raised an eyebrow at the nickname. It’s one you haven’t called her in a long time, and if the dash of pink on her cheeks says anything, she wishes you called her that more often. Kate moves and plops down right next to you on the couch and leans far too much into your personal space before whispering in your ear with a smirk. 

“You know I still care about you right? I’m not the only reason we broke up.” At this you felt your face heat up but luckily the information you had been looking up loaded giving you the chance to change the subject before anything drastic could happen. “Found it!” you shouted before realising the volume of your voice and adjusting it before you moved on. “I found the location of the watch. It seems to be at this address. Not too far from here.” You sit up straight as Clint leaves his spot on the chair to come see the information you loaded. 

“Great! Y/N go ahead and get ready, we’ll leave in five.” You nodded and headed into your bedroom to grab weapons.

“Um aren’t you forgetting about someone.” Kate announces and you turn around and lean into the doorway, amused. 

      “Kate, you're staying here. Y/N and I can handle this.” Clint rolls his eyes as he counts his arrows. Kate goes to protest when Clint cuts her off. “Y/N and I both know what we are doing. You would just slow us down and she is decidedly less annoying.” At that you snorted before turning around and heading into your room. 

     The entire time you get dressed you can hear the two archers bickering and before you know it you, Kate, and Clint are all huddled on the rooftop staking out the apartment across the street. Something about the air seems off to you but you decide to not question it as you’ve already checked all the exits multiple times. Being paranoid seemed like a job requirement sometimes. 

        A couple of arguments later led to the situation you were in now, with Kate being the one entering the apartment and Clint being her lookout. You decided to keep looking around the smaller rooftop as something seemed to tip you off. Just as you rounded the corner something or rather someone, tripped you causing you to tumble into a roll. You quickly stand back up only to come face to face with a masked figure. The figure runs at you again, throwing their entire body at you, causing you to fall to the ground in a disgruntled manner. They quickly jump up before sprinting towards Clint. 

        You steady yourself for a brief moment before running at the masked assailant, throwing yourself onto their back and jutting your legs around their head before slamming down to the ground. You quickly adjust your position to throw a punch towards their head when they shoot something out of their wrists that stuns you and makes you fall back. You shout as you quickly try to get what you recognise to be a widow bites off of you. Meanwhile Clint had managed to shoot a line to the building to give Kate a hasty exit. The widow ran and jumped on Clint, trying to take him down. He was fast but she was better, almost getting the best of him when Kate slid down, catching the person off guard. The widow however took no time dealing with Kate and threw her off the side of the building. You ran to the edge and held onto the falling rope Kate had been attached to. You assessed the situation and gave her your best ‘I’m sorry’ look before cutting the rope and letting her fall through the strangle of Christmas lights and onto the ground. 

“What the hell Y/N?!” Kate screamed up at you, stomping her foot.

“This is too dangerous K. I love you, but go home where it’s safe!” You scream out before turning back to run at your opponent. She’s aiming a gun at Clint and you take no time running and disarming her. You continue engaging her and Clint takes that time to prepare another arrow. The widow is fast though and manages to flip herself over you and dodge the arrow. You run towards her again only to dodge another arrow, this one shot by none other than your ex. You stop for a moment before continuing on. You catch the widow off guard and swing yourself over her left shoulder, grabbing for her head and flipping you both to the ground. You roll away clutching her mask in your hand as you stand up in another attack position. You make eye contact with her and your stance goes from offensive to defensive.

     “Yelena?” You whisper in a quiet voice. She merely glances at you before turning her attention fully back to Kate who is back and now has an arrow aimed at her. Kate decidedly doesn’t take the shot and Yelena takes this as her chance to escape. She runs to the side of the roof and flings herself off. You run to the edge and look over to see if she’s really gone. She is, and you turn back to look at both Kate and Clint, who are in turn, staring at you. 

Clint is the one who breaks the silence. “So kid, do you have something you’d like to tell us?” ~~~~~~         It’s about an hour later and you are sitting in the center of the couch as both Clint and Kate stand in front of you, similar to how a misbehaving child would sit as their parents chastised them. You glance up at the duo through the bag of peas currently resting on your head. “That’s all I know. I swear.” You end your explanation leaning back into the couch with a sigh. You should've made yourself a drink before sitting down, this was not a conversation one should have while completely sober.

“So let me get this straight. That person on the roof-Yelena was it? Was the person to help you escape the Widow program and one day she just disappeared,”

“She was snapped,” you butt in only to receive an eye roll from Kate. Kate glared at you before continuing on.

“Okay so she was snapped so you decided to move to New York which is where you and I met.” “Yea basically.”You nodded.

      Kate rolled her eyes and sat on the sofa next to you and without thinking leaned into your shoulder. You, also without thinking, stretched your arm across the back of the couch wrapping around Kate as she leaned more into your side. Your bag of peas, now forgotten as you used your other hand to tuck a loose strand of hair back behind her ear. Clint looked between the two of you before sighing and gathering his gear. 

     “Sure seems like you two have more to talk about. Kate, we’ll catch up later. I have to go walk the dog.” Kate nodded, her eyes starting to close as Clint walked out of your apartment. Even if you two couldn’t see it, he could, and honestly? He was rooting for it.

     As soon as the door shut, Kate leaned into you more, pressing against you, just like old times. Except instead of talking about the future, you two were about to dive deep into the past. A past full of mistakes and memories some way more pleasant than others. 

It's Kate who decides to  break the silence with sigh as she wraps her arms around your waist. 

       “So where should we start? The part where you broke up with me for seemingly no reason, the part where you’re literally a trained assassin, or maybe we should start with you trying to sacrifice yourself to save me?” Kate huffs angrily as she holds onto you just a little tighter. At that last part you narrow your eyes at her before speaking.

        “I did not sacrifice myself. I happen to be very good at fighting and I let you go because it’s easier to fight when I know you’re safe. I had to be sure no one would hurt you.” Kate scoffs before leaning her head up to look at you. “You do realize the only person who has ever hurt me was you right? Physical pain is fine, I’m used to that but the emotional garbage? That broke my heart. You broke my heart. Didn’t even have the decency to say it to me in person. All I got was a letter that didn’t even seem sincere.” At this she tried to pull away from you, but you were faster. Instead you grabbed her arm and pulled her back into you. She immediately went back into your side, changing the position so her head was angled into your neck. 

       “I. Uh well I never meant to do that. I never meant to break up with you. I’ll admit, writing letters was never my strong suit, but I never meant for you to read it like a break up letter. I owed a favor to a friend and I had to leave to take care of it. I didn’t know how long I would be gone for which is why I left the letter in the first place. When I came back and you were mean and cold towards me, I assumed you finally found a reason to hate me so I never approached you about it. When you called me about helping, I jumped at the chance because I thought we could finally work things out.” You closed your eyes and leaned into Kate’s sudden outburst of affection. “I miss you K. I love you too, but I doubt that’s what you want to hear right n-” You stopped when you felt a soft kiss land at the base of your neck. 

  “Oh you broken girl.” She huffed as she pulled away from you to look you in the eyes. She brought her hand up to wipe the single tear that started to make its way down your face. You leaned into her touch as she moved closer, wrapping her arms around you. You immediately latched onto that and grabbed her. Pouring out everything as if this was the last time you’d see her. She let you hold onto her for a good minute or so before leaning backwards. You mistook this for her wanting to let go so you tried to remove your arms from their spot around Kate. She shook her head before readjusting again so she could press the smallest kisses across the bridge of your nose. She leaned her forehead against yours and sigh. She smiled at you before connecting her lips to yours and it took you only a second to realise what was happening before you kissed her back. Arms winding up to tangle themselves in her hair. You were the one to break the kiss, smiling way too hard to continue like you two were. 

   “For what it’s worth, I think we are both sorry, yea?” Kate tilted her head before leaning in with the intention of kissing you again.

“Yea.”

[universitypenguin]

Bucky Barnes is a Traditional Man

- Bucky Barnes is a traditional man in the sense that his woman comes first.

- You have more doors held open for you than you could have imagined before you began dating Bucky.

- Door to buildings, your car door (always!), he even moves one step ahead of you when you walk down the stairs in heels so he could break your fall, just in case.

- James Buchanan Barnes is quite protective of his girlfriend.

- He’s in love with you and it finally allows some of the deeper wounds from Hydra, from the war, and losing Steve to heal.

- His heart was cold and aching before he met you. Now it’s warm and soft.

- Your perspective on the world is something that attracted him to you in the first place. You’re an optimist in a jaded world and vibrant with life in a way he’s not sure he’s even capable of.

- But somehow, being with you helps bridge the gap. He can look in the mirror and not see the Winter Soldier looking back at him. Instead he sees the man from the 1940s who loved to dance and who hoped to win a boxing title.

- You gave him that man back with your care and affection, even before the two of you fell in love. And he feels such a gratitude for that his heart throbs and his eyes glass over when he thinks about it for too long.

- Bucky is a man in love and you’re happier with him than you ever thought was possible to be. Things are so good between you two; easy, light, and sweet.

- Then one night at dinner Bucky forgets his phone. He asks to borrow your to check the score of a baseball game.

- And he accidentally finds an open porn tab. Curious, he turns the screen so no one else can see and watches. His stomach twists. The appetizer from earlier suddenly isn’t sitting so well.

- Choking.

- You watch porn with men choking their women.

- He’s not judging. He’s really not. But he’d been hoping for something he could replicate for you, and this? He can’t. Not in a million years.

- He’s afraid of hurting you.

- He doesn’t say it out loud because it feels like speaking one of his worst fears into existence. He doesn’t want even the words to pass his lips and take root in your imagination.

- You can’t see him like that. Like a monster. Too many others have and there’s enough truth behind the title for him to sleep well at night, despite all his progress. But most of the time, he sleeps well. It’s because of you and he knows it. Your comforting presence allows him to relax.

- He sleeps in bed with you nowadays. He likes how firm your mattress is.

- He struggles through dinner, the video playing through the back of his mind. When you ask him what the score of the game was he can’t figure out what you’re talking about. It’s an awkward moment.

- The thing here, is that Bucky Barnes is a traditional man. His woman comes first. So he’s going to do whatever it takes to please you and he knows it.

- You always come first. Both in the bedroom and out of it. That’s one of his rules. So he’s already forming ideas about how he’s going to accommodate your kink.

- Two weeks later is your anniversary. He gets flowers, takes you to a nice restaurant and when you get home, brings up the thing.

- “I found your porn open when I borrowed your phone. I’m guessing that you like choking, doll?”

- Your cheeks turn bright red. And you stammer.

- “Hey. Don’t be embarrassed. I want to know this stuff. I need to. How can I please you if we don’t talk about it?”

- “Bucky, you don’t have to... I would never ask you...”

- He smiles. He loves that you’re protective of him in your own way. Knowing this has done a lot for his mental well-being. It makes the relationship between you two solid and strong.

- “I want to give you everything you want in bed,” Bucky says.

- “But you already do!”

- That’s true. Too many of your ex-boyfriends were quick and rough without taking the time for foreplay.

- Bucky is an expert at foreplay. He’s able to build the tension until you fall apart for him is an addiction that he feeds as often as he can. Knowing he provides for your needs like no other man before him is a point of pride for him. (Private pride, that is. Even Sam doesn’t know anything about his sex life. Some parts of 1940’s discretion is very much ingrained in him. It’s not shame. He just likes keeping intimacy... intimate.)

- Bucky is slow and sensual in bed, warm and passionate. With him sex really does feel like making love. It was on your first night together that you’d fallen for him and his patient, gentle way of touching you.

- Orgasming had been so easy when you felt worshiped and safe. And it remained that way with him. Later, these feelings heightened your desire for rough sex with your boyfriend. Because sex with Bucky was a place of security for you. He was utterly harmless towards you and in that context, rough sex would be amazing.

- But things between you two are pretty much vanilla.

- He’s always soft with you. Things can be heightened and swirling with passion, but he’s never show even a flash of aggression or force.

- The super soldier serum means he has stamina for days. He can accomplish and position you want to try, even if it involves lifting you for long periods of time. And there’s no question if he’s going to last. Also, his recovery time is so short “round two” sometimes blurs in with round one.

- But he’s careful about using his strength against you, even more so during intimate situations.

- You’re not “breakable” and he knows that. But you’re precious to him and leaving a mark that isn’t from pure passion would wreck his mental health. Permanently. He’d never forgive himself.

- You know this too, which is why you never asked him to choke you.

- “Baby doll. I want to give you your fantasy. Will you let me? Do you want that from me?”

- You do. You really, really want to be choked by him. So you quietly respond, “Yes.”

- Before he starts, you two sit on the couch and he holds you while you tell him about your fantasies. He takes off your heels while you tell him all your darkest desires. And he gives the sore arches of your feet a massage, listening intently.

- One comforting thing for Bucky is that having been a soldier, he knows how to choke someone. He’ll be able to tell if it’s too much for you. He knows how long before it would damage you. There’s some confidence forming that this will be safe and he won’t hurt you.

- It’s nice that for once his violent past is proving helpful in your relationship. He thought agreeing to choke you might rattle him a little, stirring up old emotions, but it’s soothing. He’s enjoying using what he knows to make this experience good for you.

- He lets things get rough when you go to bed. He doesn’t hold back the passion tonight. Instead, he focuses on eating you to orgasm and holding you on the edge until you pull his hair.

- “Bucky! Please!”

- Then he slides two fingers inside of you and draws fast little circles on your g-spot until you break.

- He lets up on your clit but as the orgasm fades, slides in a third finger and pounds the spot until your pussy creams on his hand and your groans are low and raw, filled with ecstasy.

- “That’s it, doll. Just like that. So pretty when you cum for me. Keep going, baby girl. I’m right here.”

- His metal arm wraps around your waist when you arch your back, holding you so he can keep toying with the spot as your hips begin to jerk away.

- When he’s finally done with your g-spot his hand is drenched. So is the sheet and your inner thighs.

- And you’re gasping for breath from the intense orgasm. When it comes on this hard you can’t really tell if it’s one long orgasm or three separate ones that came almost back to back.

- Bucky takes you in his arms, cooing sweet nothings into your ear.

- It helps you calm down when he talks in a soft soothing voice. The man should narrate meditations.

- His voice is silky and smooth for you, yet rough with repressed need. You can hear the need and it feeds your desire.

- “Please, Bucky. I need to feel you inside of me.”

- You find yourself underneath him, with your legs pushed apart and his body selling between them.

- You love feeling the weight of him on top of you.

- Then, he gently opens the petals of your sex and guides himself inside of you.

- There’s a stretch and burn as he enters you, just like there always is. Your body never quite adjusts to his girth. Each time you have to relax for him.

- He knows it’s a challenge to take him at first. He’s always careful and there’s a tube of lubricant in the side table. It’s not always needed but he’s always prepared.

- His hips begin to roll, and he sets a steady pace that pushes the tip of his cock against your spot with each thrust. At first his thrusts are shallow but as you begin to relax around him he goes deeper. His body moves forward to cover you and he starts fucking you hard.

- Each snap of his hips has you keening. Your body is so sensitive from your earlier orgasms. He keeps up the pace steady and constant until you’re begging. Then he reaches out with his metal hand and covers your throat. At this point, your channel clenches around him, almost in orgasm.

- “You wanted my metal hand baby, didn’t you?”

- Yeah. You had. The idea had fueled your fantasies night after night.

- The cool press of metal into your throat makes you moan and tremble.

- Bucky feels the shiver and worry flashes through his eyes. “This okay, doll?”

- “Yes, harder, please!”

- He can feel your body responding and it encourages him to press down, finally choking you the way you’d dreamed of.

- You orgasm almost instantly as he chokes you through your climax.

- Bucky lets go when your fluttering muscles start to ease. Suddenly he’s driving into you hard. He drops his hand from your neck, needing both to balance his weight as he seeks his own pleasure.

- The wild, rough movement is harder than the two of you have ever gone before.

- Because he’s always been afraid of hurting you with his enhanced strength until he was too far gone to think.

- When his orgasm hits, his sight goes white and he jerks against you, pumping his seed into you. Then he collapses.

- You hold him tight, savoring the press of his body and the feeling of his release inside of you.

- “You okay, doll? I wasn’t too rough?”

- “It was perfect.”

- Your hand strokes through his hair as you lay together in the same position for several minutes. Heartbeats pounding, your minds still struggling to return to equilibrium.

- Bucky recovers first. Damn that super soldier serum. It’s not fair that you’re still limp and dazed.

- He slips out of you and rolls over, bringing you with him. Your head finds its cradle in his shoulder and your eyes drift shut.

- Recovery isn’t going to happen for you tonight. You’re just going straight to sleep. You’ve earned it.

- Bucky shifts you onto your side. He gets up and you hear water running in the bathroom before a cool cloth touches between your legs, cleaning you.

- You murmur a thanks, half asleep.

- He comes back to cuddle you into his arms, adjusting the pillows around you before he lays down.

- When you throw a leg over his hip, he draws you closer so that you’re lying almost on top of him.

- “You make such a good pillow of someone with so many hard muscles.”

- Bucky chuckles and kisses the top of your head.

- “I’m glad. Go to sleep, doll. I love you.”

- “I love you too, James.”

[calif0rnia-lovers]

#1: the proposal | plan b.

pairing: angel reyes x black!reader | chapter rating: 💙

total # of parts in series: 10

join my gc for updates since tags are acting weird

I keep falling for boys and mistaking them for men

series sum: After several failed relationships, you decide that you’re over waiting for Mr. Right to come around and help start a family. In a drunken ramble, you ask your best friend if he’ll be your donor. You didn’t expect him to say yes. As you and Angel enter uncharted waters, you both realize neither of you fully thought the initial proposal through.

words: 1.8 K

What is it they say…hope breeds eternal misery.

Or, as Angel Reyes likes to say, “I don’t know why you’re wasting time on that asshole.”

Asshole is the nicest term you can dub your boyfriend--correction, your ex-boyfriend.

Ex-boyfriend.

It’s strange how quickly two letters--a simple prefix--can change your life.

One minute, you’re joining your boyfriend and his family on a getaway to the beach. The next, you’re being kindly escorted out of a restaurant for tossing a drink in his face.

When you’d left Santo Padre Friday afternoon, you had a single thought in your mind. He’s finally going to propose. The nervous behavior, the talks about moving to a bigger apartment, him inviting you to a weekend getaway with his family.

How else would a rational person explain this behavior?

Well, according to Michael, all of those things do not add up to a proposal. They add up to “softening the blow."

As you sit on the curb waiting for your uber, with Michael's big splurge of the evening in hand--a bottle of Cabernet, you realize his explanation was complete bullshit. How is dragging you to Santa Monica for the weekend "softening the blow?" If he was going to break up with you, he could have done it in Santo Padre.

As you double-check the ETA on your uber, you remember.

Michael didn't drag you to Santa Monica to break up with you. He dragged you to Santa Monica to ask you to "take a break."

Apparently, there's a difference.

As Michael put it, with his birthday fast approaching, he'd had an epiphany. He needed time to "get out there" and "explore" his options.

"We're in our thirties," he'd explained. "We only have a few years left before we're expected to settle down, have kids. I think we should take this time to get everything out of our system, so by the time we come back together, we're ready to start that family you're always talking about."

The nervousness you'd seen the past two weeks? Had nothing to do with hiding a ring, or trying to find the perfect opportunity to pop the question. The nervousness was Michael trying to find the right time to ask you not to renew the lease of the apartment, you share, at the end of the month.

The talk about upgrading to a bigger apartment? Had nothing to do with having an extra room for the kid you've both talked about having. It was so that he could move in with his two best friends.

Michael’s epiphany left you in shock. You were caught between realizing the entire revelation wasn’t a complete joke and realizing you were expected to ride home with his family in the morning. The drink tossing didn’t come until Michael rubbed his hands together, a knowing smile sliding onto his face.

Taking your shocked silence as a lack of protest to his idea, Michael nodded over his shoulder. “You wanna head back up to the room...have some fun our last night together?”

The weight of Samantha--wait. No. Savanna...Sabrina? No, Salena.

The weight of Salena’s body presses Angel into the mattress. Her body is nearly directly on top of his, her face nuzzled into the warmth of his neck.

He’s not used to women sleeping over. Angel has one rule. He wants to sleep alone. Translation, be gone when he wakes in the morning.

That’s why, when he wakes to the sound of a slamming door, Angel is pissed.

His initial thought is that Salena let the door slam on her way out. The only problem is, Salena is still in bed with him--sleeping soundly. If she wasn’t, he would have been up able to react quicker. Because if it’s not Salena leaving, it means that someone is coming in.

“You need to go,” Angel mumbles as he manages to escape her grip.

Salena responds by rolling over and ignoring his request.

When he leaves his bedroom, Angel finds his entire house in darkness. His hand runs down his face as your voice fills the air.

"Ow--shit!" Your keys and purse fall to the floor as you bump into the coffee table.

"Y/N, what are you doing?"

“What are you doing?” You counter the slurring of your speech causing Angel’s head to shake. “...standing in the dark like a fucking creep.”

“Are you drunk?”

Your head shakes. Even if half-asleep, Angel knows you’re not drunk. You’re hammered, at least by your standards. He’s known you long enough to realize you’re a lightweight. A two and a half-hour ride with a bottle of Cabernet meant you were well past your limit.

“And why are you back early--did you drive here?”

“No,” you scoff. “I took an uber obviously--”

A second trip into the coffee table silences the rest of your response.

“Alright, come on--” Angel takes your hand in his, preventing you from falling forward.

“I don’t need your help.” Yanking your hand free of his grip--with more force than necessary--you stumble backward. Between the late hour and his body still attempting to shake off its grogginess, the action is too fast for Angel to predict. “Or any man’s help for that matter...fucking men--always thinking they need to save me--”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about you--and fucking...fucking Michael--that piece of shit...” Despite your previous attempt to escape him, you turn on your heels causing Angel to bump into you. Instinctively, his hands find your waist. An innocent attempt to help maintain your balance. “--I said I don’t need help walking, Angel--”

“Clearly.” The smirk on his lips narrows your eyes.

The pathetic attempt of a shove you apply to his chest is enough to tip your already unsteady balance.

In his defense, Angel isn’t used to “rescuing” you from a drunk faceplant. Usually, the roles are reversed.

It may not be the smartest move, but it’s the quickest way to prevent another one of your escape attempts. Angel tightens his grip on your waist, pulling a small yelp from your lips as he lifts you off the ground throwing you over his shoulder.

The sudden shift in your posture blurs your vision--sending the room spinning. The rush of blood to your head causes your palm to come down hard in frustration against Angel’s back.

“Put me down…” Angel’s head shakes as your slurred speech trails off for a moment. Seizing the break in your resistance, he carries you across the darkened room towards the security of the sofa. “...what the hell are you doing in my house anyway?”

“This is my house.” Angel huffs as he lowers you onto the sofa. “If you get up, I’m not stopping you. I'm serious, I'll let you bust your ass this time.”

But moving from the sofa has already left your mind. Instead, your focus has drifted. Scanning the living room as Angel disappears. Despite his words, you're still not sure why you've ended up at his house and not yours.

“Here drink this,” Angel sighs as he returns. He hopes the glass of water will miraculously sober you up. Between failing to kick Salena out, and you showing up drunk at 3 in the morning, Angel is considering giving up women. At least for a few hours.

Angel’s steps come to a slow halt as he rounds the sofa to find you gone. Somehow, in the time it took him to fill a glass with water, you have slid down to the floor. Your back against the sofa, you’ve given up the impossible task of unfastening your heels. Instead, you’re tugging at them. Groans of frustration fill the air once the heels remain in place.

The shaky breaths and trembling of your fingers widen Angel’s eyes.

“Shit--are you crying?”

“I’m not crying.” The shaking of your head only seems to push the tears out faster. The blurring of your vision makes the task at hand impossible. “I’m not crying.”

“My bad, you’re not crying,” Angel repeats, hopeful it’ll make the crying stop. Handling a crying woman is not his strongest suit. In fact, he tries to avoid crying women at all costs. He focuses on the easier task of removing your heels. He offers you an encouraging smile once he’s done. “See, you’re all good.”

“No, I’m not.” Reaching forward, you grab the nearest heel, launching it as hard as you can. “Michael got me these.”

You manage to grab the second heel before Angel can. You launch it in the same direction as the first.

“I’ve always hated those ugly fucking shoes.”

The second heel doesn’t land in the middle of the floor like its predecessor. Instead, it flies straight into Salena’s arm as she rounds the corner.

“Ow--what the fuck? Angel!”

The overhead light cuts on, temporarily blinding both you and Angel. When you open your eyes, you find a half-dressed Salena standing over you. Your discarded heel in her left hand, her narrowed eyes focused on you.

"So, this is why you wanted me to leave? Your girlfriend is home?"

"Neither of us is his girlfriend, sweetheart." you correct.

“I’m not sleeping in your bed ever again,” you clarify, your voice muffled against your palms. “Not until you wash your sheets.”

In the time it took to get Salena out of the house you’ve found that your body has begun to crash. The idea of laying down the only thought of your mind. That’s why the moment he’s settled alongside you on the floor, Angel’s shoulder becomes your pillow.

“Please don’t say I told you so.”

Passing up the opportunity to be right, is not in Angel’s nature. But one look at you, he’s biting his tongue.

“I never liked him.”

“You've never liked anyone I’ve dated,” you laugh quietly.

“That’s because you only date assholes.”

“Takes one to know one.”

“Exactly.”

Angel's arm drapes around you, the gentle squeeze he gives bringing a weak smile to your lips.

“That’s it,” you sigh. “I’m done dating. Forever.”

“Dating is overrated,” Angel notes.

It’s a phrase Angel has told you nearly a million times over the years. Typically, after you’ve watched him ensnare yet another naive woman with his smile. You typically roll your eyes at Angel's mantra, but right now, you don’t even bother.

“I’m serious, if you see me even blinking at the same guy twice grab me.”

“Yeah, okay,” Angel chuckles.

He knows there's no point in taking the promise any further. If Angel is a cynic when it comes to dating, you’re the poster child for hopeless romantics.

When you fall in love, you fall hard. When you get heartbroken, the fallout hits the hardest.

“I can’t wait until my forties to have a kid.”

“What?”

“I’ll be in my sixties when they graduate high school--my sixties!”

“That’s what this is about?”

“...he doesn’t want kids...at least not right now...he wants time to explore other options before being shackled to me forever.”

“I’m going to kick his fucking ass.”

“When you do, can I watch?”

“Fuck that, you’re getting in a few hits.”

“I can’t believe I wasted three years on him, thinking he was going to help me start a family,” you groan. “When I could’ve just asked you.”

Angel laughs, his smile growing as you giggle.

“I’m serious. Definitely would’ve happened faster.”

“If you want to have sex with me, there are much easier ways--”

“Shut up, it is not about sex,” you assure him as your eyes drift shut. “I actually pride myself in being one of the few women in this town you haven’t slept with. Being immune to your charm is a superpower.”

“You still ended up here tonight,” Angel grins.

You softly smile.

“That’s because you’re my best friend, and you always give the best hugs when I feel like shit.”

series taglist: @youlovetkay @mochachocolatteyaya @chaneajoyyy @sesamepancakes

angel + all mayans tags: @turn-thy-paige @finalgirlhales @jadesid @poetically-0riginal @diaryofkali @babaohhhriley @katastrophic04 @partypoison00 @rose-bliss @mayansxlover @joannasteez @headrushxreeta @brwnlikefoxy @nemesis729 @destiny-tsukino @inyourbackpocketisbutterflies @straightestgay-voice

all stories: @rosieposie0624 @amberritonicole @agoldin @est1887@toni9 @chaneajoyyy @relaxing-najee @awkwardtayler @siempremamita @seize-the-droid @glimmerglittergirl @cutiebubbleboo @pearlkitten33 @tian-monique @megapeacelovemusic-blog @sincerelykas @brattyfics @ladyofsoa@browneyes912 @beiroviski @sadeyesgf @mrsmarvelous1995 @everyhowlmarksthedead @ourlittlesecretsoveragain @demonquartz @appropriate-writers-name @ughdontbeboring @cocotheclown @thesandbeneathmytoes @queenbeered @starrynite7114 @wiccanmetallicrose @tomhardydallasstarsgirl

[rattyoakenbitch]

death note: “mother hen” ₊˚ ⸝  l lawliet x reader

❝love everything you do

when you call me fucking dumb for the stupid shit i do❞

gif credit: n/a

song: melanie martinez - training wheels

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

pairings: l lawliet x reader

warnings: angst, language, slight (but legal) age gap (youre eighteen whilst l is twenty-four), slight injury, attempted sa

summary: you get yourself in trouble and lawliet doesnt take it so well.

You were escorted into the large meeting room where the taskforce was gathered. L was in the center of the room, perched over his desk while watching security footage of Raye Penber, the FBI agent who had apparently been killed by Kira.

Soon as you walked in, all eyes were on you. The taskforce scanned your soaked self from head to toe. Your baggy skater girl jeans were dirty and torn, exposing your scraped up knees.

Your oversized white tee (which wasn't really yours, you borrowed it from L) was soaked with rain water, becoming translucent. Just like your pants, your top was soiled and torn, but more evident due to the lighter color. The hem of the shirt was loose, as if it had been pulled and stretched. White threads hung off the ripped collar that had stretched all the way over your bare shoulder. Your hair was disheveled and drenched, emitting the smell of a wet dog.

The state of your face wasn't any better, if not worse. Thick, red liquid dripped from both of your nostrils. Your undereyes were black and purple, almost similar to L's, the only difference being you weren't lacking sleep. Lips, cheekbones, chin, forehead, nose, all badly bruised and cut up. But your wounds weren't terrible. A first aid kit would do the trick. Watari was quick to grab you some towels, hanging them over your shivering and wet form. Water dripped and trailed wherever you walked but that wasn't even the least of their concerns.

"Sheesh.. Bad day, huh?" Matsuda spoke mindlessly, earning a few angry glares. "Sorry! I-I mean, what the hell happened to you?"

"Y/N! Are you all right?" Chief Yagami questioned, keeping his jaw from dropping to the floor.

"I'm.."

L was quick to hop off his chair and rush over to you, a heavily concerned and wary look on his tired face.

"Y/N, L, come with me," Watari said, taking your arm and leading you to the bathroom. Of course, being the caring boyfriend that L was, he asked nonstop questions along the way.

You tried to give a clear answer, but that wasn't enough to satisfy L. He forgot everything he was doing prior, his priority now being there for you.

You sat down on the bathroom counter while Watari fetched the first aid. L had now calm down, shutting up with the questions, realizing it wasn't doing you any good as you seemed to be weak and still in shock. L stayed close by your side, your injured hand clasped in his. He looked up at you worriedly and lovingly with those tired puppy eyes of his.

"Watari, I'll take care of her wounds. Please, just get some clean clothes for Y/N," L stated, his eyes never leaving yours. Watari silently agreed and left you two alone.

L carefully tended to your wounds, trying not to cause any more pain than you were already induring.

L asked as calmly as he could, "Y/N.. I need to know. What happened to you?"

You sucked in a breath, looking down at the ground, wearing a shameful look on your face.

"I got into a fight with some guys from campus. They teased me, followed me around. One of them was very persistent in asking me out but I told him I was already with someone." L gave you a look, partly of pride that you didn't give in to the boy. "Well I guess that sent him over the edge because him and his buddies jumped me after classes. They took my raincoat, my textbooks, beat me up and left me in the rain. One of them came back and attemped to.."

L squeezed your hand, as a way of letting you know you didn't need to further explain.

"Watari came by to pick me up before he could, you know, 'n scared the guy off."

"Why would they follow you around?"

"Ah, that. I already got in a fight prior to that with one of the guy's ex-girlfriend. She thought we had a thing for each other so she tried to ambush me. I never told you because I didn't get injured, I managed to fight her off."

"You should've told me. You know I worry about you. Especially with Kira around. We're not even sure if he knows we're together. He could use you and-"

You stopped him. "You see why I didn't tell you? You worry too much. Especially with this case, you associate everything with Kira."

"I would rather be paranoid than ignorant. It could still be a possibility. You could get yourself killed."

You rolled your eyes, "Why would that be so bad?"

L was taken back by your words. Despite the situation, you still had a sense of sarcasm. L allowed himself to smile lightly at the comment.

"If I wasn't so busy with the case, you know I'd be by your side at all times, right?"

"I know, but-"

"So that's why I want you here with me at all times. I can't visit you while you're in campus but I can keep you here with me."

"L! Do you know what you're asking of me?" I worked my ass off to get into college, I can't just leave like that."

"Your studying would amount to nothing if you end up dead."

"Wow, that was blunt."

L took both of your hands in his. "For your safety. Please."

You smiled slyly, raising your brow. "Just for my safety?"

L sighed. "And I really miss you."

You giggled, kissing the tip of his nose, causing him to scrunch it up. "Okay, fine, you mother hen."

L blushed, rubbing the back of his head. "I am not-!" He thought for a moment. ".. Am I?"

[random-imagines-blog]

Just in Your Heart {Taylor Swift x ChubbyMale!Reader}

Requested by: @lunchawx Wordcount: 2114 Summary: After five years of dating, you’re finally thinking of making it social-media official. Warnings: Fat shaming.

You weren’t the sort of person that most people would picture Miss Americana herself to date. Taylor Swift had gone out with some of the best looking, or at least according to the media’s standards best looking - men in the world. You didn’t need to go over them. The tabloids did that enough for you on a daily basis. But the point was that you were the opposite of a lot of these men. You weren’t in the entertainment industry. You weren’t rich. You weren’t famous. You didn’t have a six pack or a chiseled chest or that rugged jaw line or any of those things. You had worked your way up to being a curator at a Museum in New York - not one of the biggest ones, mind you, but big enough to where you always had a lot on your plate. You were overweight according to your doctor though you ate healthy and tried to get lots of exercise. And you had next to no social media presence, only followed by your friends and family - not even Taylor as for the most part, you both agreed on keeping you out of the spotlight, much as that sometimes hurt. But then again - you both had been together for five years now, and you weren’t being picked apart by the media. That was nice.

“Do you think that this is folded in enough? I always think of that scene in Sleeping Beauty where they actually fold them in,” Taylor laughed, snapping you out of your thoughts. When you had stopped at the grocery store to get the ingredients for baking night, you of course had seen Taylor on the magazines. Stepping out with new ‘mystery man’ it had reported. It was only her new bodyguard and would be forgotten in a week or so but it was still a bit annoying to be surrounded by rumors of your own girlfriend.

“Yeah, that looks good babe,” You’d say, looking into her bowl. It was cake night in your shared apartment. The whole quarantine thing had the both of you at home a lot more, though you did still have to go to work, so you were trying new hobbies. Baking had been Taylor’s idea, and it was something you had shot down at first considering your weight, but she was so insistant. She had given you those puppy dog eyes you couldn’t resist. Those baby blues had you saying yes every time. “No shells this time?”

“Oh my god, it was one time, let it go,” Taylor laughed, going for the next couple of ingredients. “I don’t think that you put enough chocolate in yours.”

“It’s a light chocolate cake, not a Devil’s Food Cake. I’m still watching my weight, remember?” You kept on whipping the eggs until they were light and fluffy, and then finally folded your own into the rest of the mixture. “This will probably be my lunch tomorrow,” You joked.

“I’ll make you something, don’t worry,” She said, putting a kiss on your cheek, transferring a bit of flour that she had on her nose onto your skin. You laughed and wiped it off. “What were you thinking about?”

“Saw you on the cover of another magazine today,” You said, slipping behind her, taking the chance to run your hands across her waist as you went to grab one of the cake pans you already prepped. “They’re thinking that Greg is your new boyfriend. It’s really throwing them off that you’re not out there dating openly anymore.”

“Oh, that’s hilarious. I’m sure his wife is going to love that,” Taylor laughed, not taking it seriously. Being in the industry since she was a teenager meant that she had to develop that tough skin. You loved that about her. You only wished that you had been able to do that yourself. “Oh, let’s take a picture before we pop these into the oven.”

Always the change of subject. But you gave in, as you always did, giving her a little nod. She pulled out her phone, turned the front camera on, and snapped a picture of her kissing your cheek while the full cake pans were waiting on the counter. You were grinning, you couldn’t help it. Every time that this wonderful, beautiful woman gave you attention, you were fawning for it. You couldn’t wait to make her your wife. Just a little longer. Just getting the ring sized.

And then the pans went into the oven, and you settled back down on the couch, looking for something to watch while waiting for the timers. Taylor went straight to Law and Order. Of course. You even bobbed your head to the theme tune. Her favorite show in the whole world. She cuddled up to you, hand and head resting on your barrel-like chest. When she touched you like this, it was hard to feel insecure. And the way that she looked up at you whenever the screen went dark between scenes - still made you feel like blushing to this day.

Once the timer went off, cake out of the oven, it was the only part of this whole baking thing that you really enjoyed. Decorating. Tongue in cheek, going over the layers with the icing that you had managed to make look tie-dye with different colors. “What do you think, fruit maybe? Some whipped cream?” You looked over to see what she was doing, only to see that she was literally throwing sprinkles on top of the icing. Making a huge mess, but it was cute to see her looking so joyous.

“Whatever you want,” She’d say, bending low, turning the plate to see the other side of the cake, and then threw even more sprinkles. One thing could be said for her method - she was thorough. There was hardly an inch on it that was untouched. You looked back at your own which was looking plain in comparison, and started chopping up some fruit to put on the top. At least give some semblance of it being healthy. That way you wouldn’t feel as guilty when you went to the doctor next and explained what you’ve been eating. “I can’t wait to try yours,” Taylor said, sticking a finger in your spare icing and dabbed some of it on the tip of your nose with a giggle. Her eyes were lit up from the inside out. She looked happy. Truly happy. “Can we take another photo?”

“Can I at least get this off of my nose first?” You laughed. She shook her head no, and this time in the photo, she was licking it right off of you, the cakes on full display in front of you. Your face was scrunched up from the attention on your nose, which made her laugh when she saw it.

“This is really cute. I might even post it,” She teased, tongue in cheek.

“Doubtful,” You chuckled, and grabbed a knife to make the first cuts.

“No, really,” She said, leaning against the counter, looking at the picture on her phone. “We’ve been together five years now and I haven’t really been able to tell anyone but our close friends and family.”

“Does anyone else matter?” You asked, eyebrows furrowed. “Everyone that I care about knows about you. Why does the whole world?”

“I just - I don’t want you to feel like I’m ashamed of you when I’m not. I’d love to start posting pictures of us, like normal couples do.”

“We’re not a normal couple,” You pointed out. She was pouting again, but this time it didn’t look like she was trying to get what she wanted. She looked genuinely upset. You watched her for a minute as she dropped a couple more sprinkles on spots that she missed, trying to keep her hands busy. “Okay. Fine. You can post one tomorrow if you really want. But can we just relax tonight?”

“Okay,” She said, tucking a long blonde piece of hair behind her ear and smiled. She looked happy again. And that’s the way that you wanted to keep her forever.

-

Your phone was left in your office for most of the day while you were working on the usual day-to-day activities of the museum. You had forgotten your little agreement with Taylor the night before, having settled back in for a night of watching Olivia Benson on the television solving cases.

So when you finally had a chance to sit down and look at your phone, you were surprised to see that it was dead. You plugged it into your spare charger only for it to turn on and have hundreds - maybe even more notifications. You had to quickly go into your settings and try to turn them off so that you could have a breath. That was when you remembered, and immediately opened up instagram. 2.6 million follow requests. Jesus. At least your account was on private, who knows what they would have done if they had been able to go thorugh your photos and comment on them.

You’d leave those for another time to deal with. The next time that you were taking the subway and had nothing else better to do. But for now, you went to Taylor’s profile, where you were one of her millions of followers, never anything special until now. The two pictures from the night before, kissing and silly icing on your nose. ‘#bakingwithboyfriend.’

Over three million likes. Comments galore. And most of them were not of the nice and supportive kind.

‘Oh my god, is this some body positivity stunt?’ 'This is literally like three of her exes put together, weightwise. ‘ 'Must be really rich or have great dick’

There were other ones that were much more rude, but you weren’t going to go through them. You couldn’t. You wouldn’t do that to yourself. You put the phone back down, face down so that you wouldn’t have to look at it, or at the very least be a lot less tempted.

“Mr y/l/n,” Your assistant said, poking his head into the office. His face was looking flushed, so that already gave you an idea of what was going on. He already knew about your relationship, but that didn’t stop him from having fan-boy moments whenever Taylor came in. “She’s here to see you.”

“She can come in,” You said with a nod. He popped his head back out and the tall, lithe figure of Taylor, as dressed down as she could be, walked into the stuffy room. She smiled nervously and sat down across from you in the spot where donors or assistants usually would sit.

“You saw those comments, didn’t you?” Taylor said. You simply nodded. “I already talked to my publicist and we’re going to be taking comments off all of my posts. It isn’t right. Any of it.”

“Can’t say that it wasn’t expected though,” You admitted, leaning back in your chair. “I’m not Styles or Hiddleston.”

“That’s why I love you,” Taylor insisted. “You’re not any of those men, you’re you. They’ve got nothing, nothing at all, on you.”

“But I’m apparently three of them,” You laughed humorlessly. “Look, I knew what I was getting into by falling in love with you. I can accept it. Just sucks that the day had come after all.”

Taylor was quiet for a moment, but then she leaned forward over the desk, and took hold of your hands, giving them a squeeze with her well manicured fingers. “You’re everything to me, y/n. And I just want to show you that. I want to show the whole world that.”

“I know. I know,” You breathed out with a sigh. “Were any of the comments good?”

“Selena is going apeshit in the comments. Or at least she was while I was on the way here. Threatening to fight some of the people saying the worst things but I already deleted most of the really bad ones. I have my publicist on it. Some of them were really positive though. You’re really handsome. Some of them are threatening to come after you when we break up.”

“Ha, like that’s ever going to happen,” You said, shaking your head. “You’re it for me, baby.”

“You’re it for me too,” Taylor said, raising your hands up to kiss the tops of them. Your unmusical hands. “So - are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’ll get over it. I guess. More incentive to go to the gym maybe. Gotta show your millions of fans that you can still get a buff guy after all.”

“Don’t change yourself too much,” She’d say, smiling. “You’re perfect. Completely and utterly ... perfect.”

[uncpanda]

Distraction

AN: This is based on my experiences with anxiety. What happens to me is not the be all end all for everyone. 

It had been over a year since it happened. You’d been religious with your medication. It was the anchor that kept this from happening. However, you doubt the makers of your anxiety medication had anticipated it being used for this. You watch as they bring him in. You hover at the edge of the cave, your entire focus on him. He’s bruised, his uniform is ripped, and you’re pretty sure his arm is broken. 

There’s a swarm of people around him, including ex girlfriends. You can feel the panic start to build, as every insecurity starts to rush to the surface. Worst case scenarios start going through your mind, and it takes every ounce of strength to find a small cove and settle there. 

You couldn’t lose him. You’d lost enough people over the years; friends who hadn’t really been friends, family members who were too toxic to be around, and others. You couldn’t lose Dick too. He was one of the few people you had absolute trust and faith in. 

He’d seen what your anxiety looked like, he knew you needed the reassurance, the cuddling, and sometimes distractions. He’d helped you find a therapist, and despite everything he loved you. He’d said those words so many times: everytime he came home, everytime you apologized for something that was outside your control, and just because. 

You push your back against the stone of the cover you’d found shelter in. You bite your lip to keep from sobbing. You swipe at the tears that fall, and take in a staggering breath before biting down again. Exhaustion fills your body, and when a hand lands on your shoulder you startle with a yelp. You look up at the boy who spends more time at your shared apartment with Dick than he does at his own home. It isn’t the first time Damian has seen you have an anxiety attack, but it had only been once and it had been nearly two years ago. 

“He’s going to be okay.” The boy’s voice is a little gruff. You realize that he might have shed some tears of his own. He sits down next to you, leans against you, and pulls his phone out. On the screen is a video of a worst reviewed make-up artist. It’s something that is so far removed from the situation that it takes on your attention. 

By the end of the video you’re in a more focused mindset. You rest a hand on top of Damian’s head for a second and he doesn’t shake it off. He’s the first to stand up, “You know, Grayson really loves you. Made me promise to remind you of it. Did it right before we knocked him out with pain meds. He started waxing poetically all about how far you’ve come, how you’ve sought help to get your anxiety under control, how you’ve started to put yourself out there. He says he’s happy because you’re starting to see yourself the way he sees you.” 

You smile as Damian walks away. You remain out of sight for another hour. You know nothing about anything medical, and you want Dick to be back in tip-top shape. After that you watch from the opening of the cave. Slowly people drift away; back to base, upstairs to the house, to the bunk room in the cave. Eventually, it’s just you and Alfred. You go to him then. 

You sit by his side, rest a hand on his chest, and read a book. Eventually, Alfred leaves too, with instructions on how to call for help if you need it. You’re mid sentence when you feel a hand cover your own. You look down to find Dick smiling at you, “You’re here.” 

“Course I am. I had to tell you that I love you.” 

With a grimace he lifts your hand to his mouth and kisses it, “I love you too. Always.” 

[lazarettta]

I’m Not A Witch

Characters ( Cordelia Goode, Misty Day, and Reader)

Word Count 3k

Warnings (Minor drug use 💨)

You don’t have a bad background, in fact your life is pretty cushy but not without its problems namely...you being able to do things with your mind but you have no control. Thankfully, Cordelia and Misty scoop you up before you head down a path of self-destruction. Platonic af but there could be something if you squint I think 🤔

~~

New Orleans was a world different from New York. A world different. You were born and raised in New York—it was your whole life, and you never really thought about a life outside of the city that never slept. Why would you want to leave the city that everyone wanted to be apart of? Well that's what you thought for twenty-three years.

You lived a comfortable life your entire existence, you didn't have to struggle nor were you ever afraid of your future. Your parents always made sure that you were well taken care of, nothing but the best for you and you knew how fortunate you were especially being a foster kid. You were born to Mr and Mrs Hawthorne, a wealthy couple who couldn't have a baby of their own so they went with the next best thing that money could afford—surrogacy.

It had taken your parents months to find the perfect candidate as Mr. Hawthorne, your father, would use his own semen (yikes dad). But that was all that you knew, you had no idea the identity of the woman they hired to carry you for nine months other than she was the nicest young woman your mother has ever met.

It wasn't a topic that could've been avoided as you got older and noticed that your complexion was a few shades more than theirs. But thankfully your parents were always open and honest with you, even at a young age. Of course you had a nanny growing up, both of your parents were lawyers—their time was always stretched far too thin, but you weren't a neglected child nor were you ungrateful and they loved you so much for it.

Which was why you never told them about your newfound skill when you hit your sweet sixteen—everyone thought the candle that nearly melted your entire birthday cake was a fluke incident but you knew that it wasn't. You had felt the heat of the fire as you watched your father set the tip of the match against the wick of the candle. For a brief moment you wondered what would've happened to your cake if it was on fire, you thought it would look pretty badass. You hadn't exactly expected it to actually happen! But it did and thankfully no one was injured just thoroughly freaked out.

Your parents laughed it off, quite nervously, but you never said anything about it to them and they never really brought it up again anyway. Unbeknownst to them, of course they were always at work and the penthouse housekeeper wasn't required twenty-four seven, you were able to fool around with your newfound hobby with relative peace in your room. Well until you nearly set the place on fire twice in the same month, after that you just went to the roof and googled meditation practices on google.

You only ever couldn't control the fire unless you were an emotional wreck. For two years, you kept that secret to yourself and if you didn't have friends before you sure as shit didn't then. No one really liked you anyway, your parents were richer than most of everyone else's and your parents actually gave a damn about you and not just about how you were going to make them look in the future.

They tried to bully you about your height but you weren't a punk, so that was short lived. Students envied you but that was okay. They didn't have anything to offer you, that's what your mom always told you anyway. Besides there was nothing wrong with being short, it just meant you had more to offer. Of course.

When you turned eighteen, you discovered something else about yourself...and you weren't exactly sure what you wanted to call it but you could always tell if someone was lying to you if you listened hard enough.

You weren't sure how it worked but you never took any real notice to it until your ex girlfriend, and your only girlfriend, lied to you and you felt a bit of a...you wouldn't say it was a jolt but your insides felt the same type of tingle when your foot fell asleep or something.

That's how you figured out your first love (high school, right?) was cheating on you...you hadn't dated anyone after that. How could you when all people did was lie?

And the minute they learned that you were a Hawthorne...it was done. You saved yourself the heartache and just focused on the future. You managed to graduate college a year early and you didn't go to jail for arson, yet.

The older you got and the more you learned about how shitty people could be, meditation and yoga stopped working so well for you and you ended up joining a gym. No martial arts or anything like that, you didn't have the time for it, but you hired a trainer and five days a week that’s what kept you grounded.

Presently...

You weren't currently working, well not anymore. Less than a month ago you were a nurse at Mercy hospital as a CRNA. It was a late night already and an unruly patient was brought in for a gunshot wound. Somehow he managed to slip out of his bonds and before anyone could stop him, the bastard had his hands around your throat and you'd...you just fucking panicked and he ending up burning to death from the inside.

No one knew how it happened they couldn't even prove that you had even done anything, but you were fired on the spot anyway...and your parents had to shovel out a good amount of money and blackmail to keep your name from the papers.

You hadn't searched for a job after that, what was the point? Your name may not have been dragged through the papers but you sure as hell weren't gonna be working at any hospital anytime soon. At least...not in Manhattan.

But after what happened...what you did to that man, the cruelty of it? Why would you? You'd been high strung after that and you picked up a habit you ditched after you left college.

It just helped you regulate your emotions better and to think, plus you just liked the way it made you feel. It also helped with the nightmares that would plague you every night, and the scene was always the same. He was always on top of you screaming to a pain too gruesome for words.

Your parents tried therapy but you were stubborn besides your medicine was better than theirs anyway.

Your father didn't know about your newfound hobby but your mom did, and she wasn't going to tell him either. She was just thankful that it wasn't crack or cocaine—she could deal with her daughter turning into a weed connoisseur. But she would not support an unproductive one.

That was exactly why she was on her way back into the city to your penthouse with two guests in tow. Doing her best not to cry in front of these two women who have proven to her that they could not only help you but take care of you in a way that she couldn't.

But she knew when your birthday cake went up in flames...she had been watching you the entire time, and in that moment...every warning and tale that your birth mother told her came to light. But she made a promise to love you like you were her own, because you were, and she'd love every freaky little tic that came with you.

As a mother it was hard for your mom to accept that this wasn’t something that she could do for you. But she was woman enough not to stand in the way of her daughter's success...whatever it was that you chose to do.

~~

You were sitting out on your balcony wearing your black robe with nothing else on except a pair of panties and your Prince tank top that you should've gotten rid of years ago but it was still one of your favorite—holes and all. You'd been blissfully in your own little world for a few hours now with your iPad sitting in your lap with some Stevie Nicks playing in the background over the speakers coming from inside your penthouse.

It was just the right volume that it wasn't too loud but the city noises didn't drown it out either. You'd just polished off your fourth bowl, something grape...whatever, you were just enjoying your time. You went back to drawing, head bopping softly and you were so lost in your own little world you didn't realize that you were alone in your penthouse. There were three different sets of high heels that you missed though you just about jumped out of your skin when your mother came into view via your peripherals.

“Oh!” you smiled bright and wide, eyes a tad bit low, “Hey mom, what are you...um...who are they?” you sat up quickly, unaware that your robe fell open with the movement and your mom nearly facepalmed. You set your tablet aside, doing a double take at the blonde with the curly hair that was lowkey dancing to Fleetwood playing in the background. You looked at your mom, your smile morphing into a confused frown, “Mom?”

“Sweetheart,” your mom soothed back a long strand of dark hair and cleared her throat softly which worried you even more because your mom was never one to be nervous, ever, “This is Cordelia Goode and Misty Day.”

Subconsciously you reached into your robes pocket and pulled out a bright orange stress ball you got from the bodega for a whopping five bucks. (You had to have been high as fuck not to argue that price down but whatever.) You squeezed it softly, licking your dry lips, “Um...hi? Did I do something to you guys too? If I did I'm so sorry, I—”

“No, baby, no,” your mother sat next to you, quickly fixing your robe and your messy hair and Cordelia's brown eyes shot to Misty, who had immediately stopped dancing, “Just...are you hungry? Orange juice maybe?”

“Mrs. Hawthorne?” you looked up at the blonde woman came up behind your mother with a soft smile, “If I may, in my experience it is always better to just rip it off just like a band-aid.”

“Rip what off?” you pulled away from your mom, scooting away and hated seeing that hurt look on her face but there was something going on, you were not that paranoid.

“Honey, this is just a little intervention and—”

Laughing, you scooted away from your mom again, “What? Mom, it’s just pot—”

Your mom waved away your comment with a roll of her eyes, “Honey, I don’t care about the grass—”

“Then what…”

“Zip!”

You quickly shut your mouth when your mom said that and have you that look, it was one you knew quite well growing up. It baffled you how it was still working on you.

Your mom sighed, “It's just for a little while and I'll make sure that this place is well cared for.”

“Wait what?! You're sending me away??”

“(Y/n).” the blonde, Cordelia, pulled your attention from your mom who was crying, Cordelia sat on the edge of your coffee table carefully while Misty continued to hover in the background curiously, but prepared in case you got jumpy, “We just want to help you, okay? We're not here to kidnap you or harm you in any way.”

“I can't be helped,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes even as the tears spilled over, “I—I don't know what you think you know, Miss Goode but...”

“I know quite a bit, (Y/n),” Cordelia held out her hand and suddenly your stash box flew past your head making you flinch but Cordelia caught it just fine and you stared at her wide eyed, “You and I? We aren't so different and at Miss Robichaux's academy for exceptional young ladies...we teach young witches such as yourself how to survive in the modern world.”

“Witches? You think I'm a witch? No way, mom c'mon...the...the stash box trick was cool and all, but witches? Mom! Mom please, you're not buying this are you?” but even as you questioned it, you knew that they were telling the truth and that's what scared you the most. “How do you know they're not trying to use this for your money?”

“We're not, I promise! We don't need your family's money, (Y/n). All we want is to help you.”

“Listen to her, honey, this is for your benefit, okay? And...these women are very nice people, so don't give them trouble, not that you would, right?”

You looked over your mothers shoulder at Misty, the woman offering you a smile and a playful wink.

You exhaled heavily, your eyes sliding back to your mom, “...and you're not getting rid of me right? Because of...what I can do? Or what I've done?”

“No! Absolutely not, it was an accident! If anything it was the faulty bonds they put that monster in! Honestly,” your mother huffed, “your father and I still have half a mind about suing that hospital…”

“But not without having to drag my name through the mud.” You mumbled, sighing heavily.

“I love you, (Y/n), so damn much. Yes, we would’ve gotten millions but you’re worth much more to your father and I, don't you forget that,” Your mom reached over and grabbed your hand, squeezing gently before standing and quickly gathering her Prada bag, “and...don't worry about your father with all of this. I'll break this to him myself but baby...promise me that you will try?”

You bit your bottom lip, nodding slowly and holding her hand tighter almost painfully so before surging up and hugging your bother tight, and even though she was in high heels your slight frame made it easy for her to catch most of your weight. She hugged you back just as fiercely, kissing your forehead twice before letting you go.

“And here—for emergencies and whatever you might need, honey.” your mom pushed her black card into your trembling hands, the weight of it denser than you expected it to be and it made you laugh, of course your mom would shove money at you. It was her love language, you stopped questioning it a very long time ago but you never took advantage of it. “I love you so so much.”

Cordelia watched the entire exchange silently with an ever curious eye, even daring to risk raising an eyebrow when she saw your mom push that unmarked card into your hands before skirting off. Your mom reminded her a bit of her own mother...money was Fiona’s love language as well.

But your mom was much more pleasant, her love for you blossomed like a rose rather than a thorn bush.

You exhaled shakily, hands fidgeting in front of you, “I...what now?”

“Now we get down to business,” Misty smiled at you, stepping into the space your mom once occupied and took your hands in both of her own, “Your mama is resourceful, she tracked us down and everything, but it wasn't like it was all that hard since Delia and I were lookin' for you too.”

“You...you were?” you looked over your shoulder at Cordelia still sitting on your coffee table, “Why?”

“We heard about what happened to the man at the hospital and even though you weren't named, it wasn't that hard to track you down and we happened to cross paths with your mother.”

“Figures...” you nodded, sniffling again and you quickly pulled your hands from Misty when a breeze hit your skin—reminding you how indecent you were among two strangers.

You fixed your robe again and quickly sat down and Misty followed you down, bouncing slightly almost a little too close—your high was completely worn off at this point, “Earlier you said that you were helping wit...people like me live in the modern world? What?”

“Yes, we help witches such as yourself avoid situations like the one you currently experienced.”

You raised an eyebrow at her wording and she smiled at you when you met her eyes. You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest—appearing unbothered even if you were still sniffling, damn. Your mood swings were going to give you whiplash one of these days.

“You don’t really expect me to go around calling myself a witch do you?”

Cordelia’s eyes narrowed a fraction, “What I expect, (Y/n), is for you to actually make an attempt. There will be rules and the sooner you drop the attitude, the easier this will be for all of us—you especially.”

You opened your mouth to argue back but then you quickly shut your mouth, your mom's words bouncing around in your head to stop causing trouble. Along with the promise you made to her.

Misty was sitting still next to you, and though you couldn’t see it—her eyes were darting back and forth between you and Cordelia with a bit of a grin trying to break free.

“Right, and um where is this school of yours again? If I even agree to this at all?”

Cordelia gave you a look that you couldn't really decipher, “Miss Robichaux's academy is in California.”

Your eyes flew back to hers immediately, “I don't wanna go around calling you a liar Miss Goode, I only just met you...but you and I both know that's not true.”

“Ah, so it is true...you do have some form divination.”

She led you right into a trap and you couldn’t even be annoyed by that, Cordelia was proving to be a lot more than she appeared. “Divination? What is that? Is there anything my mom didn't tell you?”

“Well, she didn't tell us ya favorite food.” Misty supplied unhelpfully, attempting to break the building tension with poor humor. And you couldn't hold back your smile, deciding that you liked her a lot.

“You're a walking lie detector, dear. That's quite handy in today's world.”

Misty chuckled before one of her arms came around your shoulders, “Oh yes, and Madison is just gonna love you!”

“Don't worry, you’ll fit right in.” Cordelia chuckled, still sitting directly across from you and there was a bit of a twinkle in her brown eyes, she knew you were going to be trouble and that she would have to keep a close eye on you. But if there was one thing that Cordelia enjoyed, it was a challenge.

~~

I dunno what I’m doing for real lol it’s 1am and I’m in my garage on a tablet 😅😅I thought this was fun

[muffindaddystyles]

𝑌𝑂𝑈𝑁𝐺 & 𝐵𝐸𝐴𝑈𝑇𝐼𝐹𝑈L 

A oneshot of how you two met in the beautiful city of Italy, how Harry finds you an Angel descended from heaven above that took his hand and became his light. Dad!harry full of fluff..oh yeah dad!harry nation lets rise. .Part two of tooth rotting dad harry of it is here too. young and beautiful (II)

It's Saturday night. Harry and you intentionally have no plans but to loaf around in your guys cosy homely space. The candles flames with rośe tranquilness, the intro to movie watched many times together rolling in. Both of you are snuggled onto large body sucking sea-green velvet couch infront of telly.

His daddy long legs nestled atop your hip hooking around your ankle protecting you from falling if possible (moreso the fact he's extremely protective of you in your pregnancy.) His one elbow snaked around your collarbones which are now hiding underneath soft swelling, his sweater pawed arm sheltering around your huge eight months baby bump slender tender fingers tucked underneath your side.

You relaxes into him, back pressed to his tanned chest and with his chin resting atop your hair whenever he rasped out something it bobbed your whole head.

"Yeh' kay, baby? comfy?" He asks you for the hundredth time now caressing and stroking your chin, then earlobes, collarbones to your belly and the list goes on. It's one of his habits that he doesn't realizes himself more as ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑙𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑢𝑎𝑔𝑒. Harry's love language's physical contact, lots and lots of them. He finds calm in touching you here and there, raking his palms without them knowing their destination. He's cuddly and clingiest when drunk. Although, he has stopped drinking since you both are expecting but the clingy part of him jumped out during this period his only excuses are "wanna stay close to me' three babies." Or "i feel empty when you're even a bit away from me." 

"'M lover, stop worrying." You bring his jaw down with the tip of your pointer finger to kiss his lips gently with a tilt of your chin. He mumbles an anxious "cant." in your mouth running his thumb under the curve of your womb with amiable affection.

You hiss into his mouth when one of your bubba kicks you with ever most force and he pushes away with amused eyes, when he felt the kick against his palm. It's not like it's his first but everything related to his unborn babies muse him to utter excitement and tears of joy.

He shifts a tad resting his a little scruffy cheek against your silken naked bump, you're wearing one of his crotched zinc orange crop top and it bunched up your belly in very much likeness of Harry, he thinks you look so endearingly sexy he could make you use him as many times you want. His ear tucked under the crescent of your chest, "feels like jus' a barrier of skin between us." He bubbles his accent and you smile down at him infectiously. Meanouvering your fingers into his chestnut curls and massaging his scalp that made his eyelids futter into bliss.

There was another visible kick and Harry smoothed down the skin eyes shinning up at you, "a footy champ this one." You sucked your bottom lip trying not break into fits of laughter because from the weight your pelvis muscles has become weak and you end up leaving wet tiny splotches most of the time. First time you had it was two months ago you were fucking embarrassing and couldn't stop crying right after an hour of genuine laugh ofcourse caused by Harry when you guys shopped for babies and he wore that one onesie on his head being all goofy and child of two while expecting two himself.

"How're meh' baby girls. meh' bunnies." He smauched loud wet kisses all over your belly making slobbery snuggly voices to annoy you. You tug at his roots whining loudly because you know the undeniable loving scene of Harry talking to his two daughters will bring you to tears all because of stubborn hormones. Yes, two!

While you weren't even expecting a pregnancy, God said wait for my bumper surprise.

Everyone told your bump looks healthier than normal pregnancies but you ignored it until the day of gender check-up. Harry was ecastatic, fist pumping the air, bouncing with your hands intervined tears bloodshot in his eyelines. So were you...but you had a huge breakdown on the wooden floor of your home's threshold. You were blabbering thousand questions to him, body shaking and fighting to breath.

"I...I can't do this, Harry...too much 's too much." You cried to him that day. But he cradled your face into his calloused palms his temple kissed yours, "ye' can, my sweet girl. we can. wish I could bear one of our baby bunny, it's sad that I cant help ye'. But, it's my promise to be there for you forever and always." He leaned down to kiss you with so much love, more love he was keeping to himself ever since and more more love he can't put into words.

He comes back from your belly to leave a feathery kiss on your lips that makes you yearn for him more and settles back to his previous position, his face shoved into the crook of your neck and he presses kisses to the corner of your lips while your eyes remains glued to telly.

As Sally and Harry bickered in the car you chuckled softly fingers tracing his nose and the mole sheltered under it, "remember how we met?" His breath fanned tickling your cheek heartily when he shook his head with a giddy giggle.

"How could I not? Yeh' were a honey pot and a weepy mess after tha'." He scrunches his nose at you adorably reminiscing the night and series of nights after that.

"It was your fault mister." You twitch your lips turning to his side with his help and his hand sprawled at your back instinctively. "Ye' souvenired t' give a lonely guy like me some company, first." He smiles when you huffed. His beam getting joyously wider when your belly pressed tightly against his's and he kisses your forehead multiple times.

"Who thought that guy escapin' from Gucci's biggest event could be a dad of two girls." You quip playing with his neckline and his chest rumbled with a titter that sent you to cloud nine.

"Not me at all. But, if I could meet him back in time I'll tell him how lucky he's gonna be, how happy he'll be, that he doesn't needs to be a grumpy daddy when he could be a real happy one." His eyes are glassy and you cupped his cheeks placing your lips atop his into a feverish kiss of gentleness.

~𝐹𝑎𝑙𝑠ℎ𝑏𝑎𝑐𝑘 𝑡𝑜 2015~

Gucci's spring festive on full blossom in the most popular old city of Italy, Milan. It's luxurious in all it's glory. A-list celebrities and world claimed most beautiful models. The hall clattered and shushed with talks, rumours, gossips and greets. Then it's fashion and tailored-fitted clothes, formal gowns. Fake smiles. Cold hearts.

On the long dinning table piled with food that sometimes's too difficult to pronounce Harry sat along with Kendall Jenner. His ex-girlfriend and a friend for now. She talks excitedly with the person infront of her snarling rude remarks here and there. Her hand came squeezing his thigh under the table that startled him from his imaginary world. A world where he's at peace, the luxuries doesn't exist and he's nothing but a normal person.

"Huh, love?" He kinks his brows together fiddling with the napkin in his lap and she gave him a furious pout for not giving her full attention, "I was pointing out how fast-fashion brands are shit." She rolls her eyes. Harry can't believe her bratty arse. He shrugged his thigh with a tad more harshness to get rid of her touch.

"Dunno. No' everyone could afford luxury brands." At this the model infront of them cackled more in her mock and sniffed to be polite in the fake hush of the room. Harry's eyes turned glassy and the jade in the murky to the visible irritation at their behaviour. His expressions dark and unreadable under the very less light.

Quiffing his long hickorey curls back he nibbed at his pointer finger's knuckle only to bend it under his chin afterwards, "'m serious." Kendall sighs loudly at this clearly annoyed by the way he's acting and the model infront of him gave him a 'whatever makes you sleep at night.' look and a shrug of her shoulders in arrogance while eating her steak.

Enough. Harry thinks with a grumble struck in his chest. He rakes the chair back that drew some attention but it drifted to some person sharing their experience and all that shit talk again on the loop.

Harry's guard followed him behind pushing the paparazzi away. Flashes in his eyes. Made up assumptions to his ears and shoved up opinions to his chest. He's sick. From all of this. He wants to shout to no-one in particular but himself, he wants an escape. He wants it with his every bleeding cell.

Then he takes a curt turn with a whiplash of his torso to dark alley beside the building from which he just exited and when he reached the end it was blocked by a brick wall so he jumped with ease to other side, his expensive boots scruffing against the gravel. He gave no care to the guard behind him.

He was in a local less populated street. Wider with the bumpy stones and there were people indeed but nobody paid him heed.

He sat on the concrete bench. Flinging his one leg over another hand gripping near his crotch and with a relieved huge exhale of breath he took his phone out going through it. After, so long he feels like he's a free dove who could breath free escaping from it's cage.

He's broken. Empty and in the rough path of his life. He doesn't know how to cope with it. It makes him fuckin' insane.

There's an ice-cream cart few steps away from where he's sitting alone onto bench. His head snaps at the beautiful giggle bouncing through the tangerine sky. He squints his eyes to get a better look of the group of friends crowding near the cart and licking onto their ice-creams.

Your white cotton dress furled with a wave of zephyr and the loose errand of your hair slipping from your low bun cascading around your face while you gave a belly ache laugh to one of your tall friend bopping his nose at his silliness.

Harry stares at the interaction of young people. They're just like him but looks more happy and youthful then why couldn't he?

His eyes are set on a certain figure and that's you still hidden from him as your friend Mona blocked the sight of your perfect view to Harry nudging your ribs.

"Is that Harry Styles." Jo mutters when his eyes fell over him and then he bashfully hisses, "don't look back! Don't look back. You guys are being too specific." Considering yourself stupid you spinned to have an ethereal sight of Harry sitting all by himself on the cold bench, his carved features glowing with the illumination of his phone screen still unlocked while he got distracted by you people.

"Doesn't feels like he's enjoying himself." Mona quipped taking a large swipe of her cold delight. None of them too interested in his wear abouts.

Call it clićhe but you don't have any thought in your mind before you're asking for an ice-cream cone from the ice-cream man heading towards him with your hands occupied with two.

Harry's breath hitching in his palpalating heart at the complete sight of you, for sore eyes for sure. His nerves jittery and knee bouncing in restlessness as you approaches him with a sweet grin. He takes in your complete look. White flowy dress and nude sandals, loop earrings and the bright red lipstick resembling the blood gush of his heart. 'Less is more' making you appear so beautiful.

Harry's so lost in his own brain wrecking that he forgot where you went but you rounds him from behind flinging your left leg on the other side of bench to sit on it with your legs on either side of it, he again startles getting off-guard hastily turning to face you when you tapped his shoulder.

Licking your own vanilla sweetness you forwarded the cone to him a sweet sheepish smile on your glowing hearty features. His body guard instantly changed his position to stop you but Harry gave him a stink eye accepting your offer shyly. Your cheeks heating even in the mild temperature when his supple fingers brushed yours.

"Thank you." His voice timid wiping the corners of his heart shaped lips but you just shrugged your shoulders leaning back with your hand pressed against the bench, "no problem. you're welcome." Harry gazes at your collarbones prodding from the flimsy fabric of your v-line then he shifted his gaze down to his Gucci loafers telling himself not to be a pervert. It's just you're too delicate that he can't stop admiring.

"I like your suit." You compliments him with glinting eyes and his cheeks flushed with shyness mumbling a "thank you." Under his erratic breath.

His eyes flutters and tummy flips when you bring your hand closer to him taking the sleeve of his jacket tugging at it, "it's too graphic you know...in a good way." He finds it endearing that you were this engulfed in just the design of his suit and when you tilt your chin peering up at him, he feels like his brain stopped functioning. He nods eyes still locked to yours and when he sense some coldness dripping down his thumb he quickly ducks down to lick it off causing his sculpted cheek to stroke against your silken ones in utter gentleness.

You gulp timidly sitting back straighter.

"So...? For what stuff you're here for Harry?" He loves the way his name sounds mellow coming from you. He clears his throat unwinding his long legs to stretch them wide and it nudged yours sending jolts to both of you, "uh, 'm 'ere fo' Gucci event." You beam at this shifting closer to him.

"I like the way it sounds comin' from you." He cackles at this running his fingers to tame his matte curls.

His tense demeanor slipping bringing his shy, timid and goofball ones exposed to you. He's himself surprised that all the built up frustration in his nerves drained away from your presence.

Being an art major and a fashion geek you asks him with ferverishness patting his knee, "what was it like? I've heard it's mesmerising." He chuckles at this. He wanna scoff because a sweet girl like you wouldn't last a second there.

"'S okay. I guess." He elevates his shoulder in bored expression and when the ice-cream swipes at the tip of his nose you giggled bunching forward to his side. He smiles down at you squinting his eyes narrow in an accuse.

"And what yer' here fo'? Wait yeh from here?" You bite the waffled cone chewing it. Words muffling with a full mouth, "having a trip with my University's friends. I live in London though. I really really wanted to see Milan. So, here I'm." You make an innocent childish face raising your arms in air to show him and his heart's soothing to peace with every homely action you'd pull to make him relaxe.

Then there was silence that Harry was unaware how to break. He could hear you talking for an eternity. On the other hand you aren't that akward to make conversations with people. No doubt you're shy, and wants your own space to blossom but this one habit of yours is inseparable.

"You know when back home. An ice-cream man would come daily at midnight in summers. Me and my cousins would climb up his bicycle cart like darn monkeys. Pop our heads inside the freezer and annoy the fuck outta him. God I miss home." There's this un-pointable feeling. That's unfigurative to Harry but it's there; of admiration and of endearment. His heart's at cloud nine caressing itself to the pink cotton candy.

His heart reaches out for you from his ribcages as the homesickness glistered in your irises. You weren't obliged to talk to him, to give him company but you still did beacuse beautiful accidents and coincidence happen in the admist of rushed streets.

Harry parted his lips to talk to you more but he has nothing, his life's not unknown by anyone and the normal scenarios of people entertains him so much.

His head snaps when you grin widely at him throwing the last and best of cone inside your mouth. Your small pretty mouth chewing like a rabbit and Harry wants to have a touch, just some to shush the fire in his stomach.

His head snapping when you yelled to children that were skipping on rope waving to them, "hey kiddos! Wanna have some ice-cream!?" They all left their play of galloping running towards you. Harry looks at you wide eyes eating his last bits away.

"Our hotel gave us a coupon for free ice-creams." You laugh standing up and he wants to catch you by wrist to stop you going away from him but when you squeeze his shoulder leaning to whisper in his ear chills ran down by his spine, "will be right back." He swallows thickly nodding eyes trailing to you as you collects all the little fellas to cart.

He watches you. Is she an Angel? A mirage to help him out of his anxiousness? Or a smoke in his mind that'll disappear soon? He thinks picking on his nails. He's not ready to step out of the calm bubble you created so delicately around him. Only if life could be this easier.

He rolls his eyes playfully sucking his lips inside his mouth when he sees you paying extra for more. He looks back to his body-guard. Maybe you didn't noticed him or cares less but Harry's kinda annoyed that he has to be here in such a happy vulnerable moment of his life.

"Thank you nice lady!" Harry chuckles gleefully when all of the kids thanked her licking onto their sweets. "It's okay kids, be careful before I take them back."

Shaking your head you strides back to Harry coming to stand infront of him. You can fit perfectly between his legs if he opened them wider for you, that desireful thought swooshed through his mind but he shakes it away.

"Thank ye' nice lady." He squeaks in high teasing pitch standing up and your eyes widened when he literally towered you fully. Your height differences funny even you're in heels.

"Not you now." You declared with blushed cheeks. His irirses glinted when you fumbled with the sides of your dress.

"So...this's it?" You ask him peering up at him with such gooeness he could whimper. Shivers running down your body as the weather turned rather more chill.

"This's it.." Harry whispers. He feels what? a lump of wetness in his throat? He's at the brink though.

"Thank you for bearing my monkey ass." You guffawed out but he has serenity in his eyes. He thins his lips. "I should be the one to say thanks."

He was taken aback when you hugged him running soothing circles at his back. He inhales your tangerine vanilla scent embracing you fully now. If he could freeze the time he would in a snap. He feels like he's all the way back home after travelling shallow through the whole world.

"It's gonna be alright, whatever it's Harry. It'll be alright. You're gonna be alright. It gets bumpy but you still have so much for you." Harry wants to cry in some strangers arms. He feels so defeated and tired. But, the determination and affirmation in your voice made him think opposite. He'll do it. He can do it.

He didn't let you go first. You untageled yourself from him gently swaying on your feet, taking a step back and he couldn't blink his eyes away from you as you bit your crimson lip.

You take steps away from him eyes still locked to his jade ones and he calls you out through the breeze looking for passing by cars if possible because you're standing in the middle of street.

"Hey, stranger!!!" You tilt your chin in a questioning and shake your head at his lopsided cheshire smile, "forgot t' tell ye'r name!" He yells out in rushed anticipation and anxiousness as if he'd loose you if any minute ticks by.

Goosebumps appears at your bare legs from the chill, "Y/N. Y/L/N." Then you spin around raising your hand high atop your head waving it for Harry.

"Ba-bye. Harry." You says loudly but it doom vacuumed to emptiness once you step inside your hotel's lobby leaving Harry at his own sake again.

Standing still at his spot. Hands shoved into his trouser's pocket and long spiral curls framing his sculpted features he watches you with a furrow of his brows from the glass of hotel. His frown getting deeper when you threw your head back laughing when you bumped into your friend who was coming to find you, you caught his wrist eyes widening at something funny he said and Harry sighs thinking maybe you're just this kind and generous and that he's not a special case in your book.

With an exhausted sigh he makes his way towards his bodyguard who gives him a side mishevious eye, "happy now, Styles?" Harry jabs a shove to his bulky shoulder playfully lips twitching and eyes narrowing, "oh shut up!" His mood more lightened and gleeful than his previous one thanks to you.

***

Next day when Kendall and her friend dragged Harry to fancy the local streets of Milan. Harry had a less scowling face than before. They stopped infront of some shop to buy bagels that someone bumped right square into Harry's back making him stumble a little.

It's you. Rushing out of a pharmacy. Harry's gaze trails from your toe to head and his lips parts in surprise. The whole past night in his lonely hotel bedroom you were his dream of heart and the stubborn thought of his mind while the thump of after party going downstairs kept him occupied and fainted the erratic pace of his heart. Then his brows kink in worry and concern at the grueling sight of you.

You're in a pink sweater and pyjamas. Eyes glassy. Cheeks flushed and blazing. Nose running and hair poking out in every direction. He takes a gentle step towards your astonished figure brewing fingers reaching out to hold you but when you keeps a distance from him his heart falls in his arse, and when you cough in your elbow he realizes that you're maybe cold or having a fever.

"You okay, love?" He asks you. Voice that of honey and panic dripping from his features. You gives him a big smile bobbing your head quickly and he have an urgency not to roll his eyes at you. Because you don't seem okay from any angle!

"'M just having a tiny cold it's not that worrisome." Harry's eyes pops out from his socket at your voice. It's groggy and hoarse not that sweet warm honey that was fusing in his ears last night. "Y/N. You can barely speak, are you sure you're okay?" You try to give him a small smile at his care but it got suppressed by another throat tearing cough. Poor little thing. Harry fawns looking down at you.

At this he abruptly saturates the distance between you two, "note me' number, darlin'. Promise me you'd call me if you feel too sick." You give a glance to his two friends coming by to stand beside him.

"Hi." You greet them in hoarseness and they wince when you forward your hand for a shake making you feel ashamed and embarrassed of your politeness when they didn't accepted it. Harry jaw ticks in furiousness as he glares them it's all adding up to push his nerves now.

He takes your shivering hand with an arch of his brow to his friends in challenging sterness noting down his phone number at your palm. You give him a soft "okie." and a "thank you." waving him and his friends a good-bye. He notices that you're not someone to hold grudges against someone. He knows that Kendall's behaviour throws people off but you didn't seem to mind it too much.

"Who was she Harry?" Kendall asks him chewing onto her bagel. Harry shrugs not keen to spill any precise details, "someone I met last night."

She tries to scrape more from him. "How?" Harry closes his eyes tugging at his roots not ready to snap at her.

Harry thinks many times to say the right words so that she'd shut up but still ends up saying something that infuriated her ego and mock, "she offered me ice-cream—" Her friend scoffs perking his head.

"Mate you're nuts for accepting something from a stranger." Logically yes. But you meant no harm to him. Your eyes were truthful and shined with sincerity.

Harry stays silent walking inside their hotel. The hostess asks them if they'd like to have a brunch.

On the other hand you climbed up the stairs to your room with a lazy gait. Your lungs burning. Once inside your room. You takes your medicine with a shivering body and minus energy to even raise your finger. You want to cry but you give a pep talk to yourself that you're a brave girl squishing yourself in your bed, hiding under three blankets.

There's bright sun outside but still you're feeling like someone placed you atop Antarctica's glacier snatching every clothing item from you. Your friends are all out and you wish you could have them. You hate being sick and alone.

When you woke up again. You felt horrible. Feeling like a truck crushed you underneath itself. When you tried to sit up, you fell back a reckless painful sob erupting from your lungs as with wavering fingers you massaged your sweaty forehead. The sheets under you drenched into sweat and hotness. Panic rising in your chest as your vision blurred with blackness so you dialed Harry's number immediately in the fear someone should be with you in case you faint.

"He—" He was cut off with your loud crying. The fork in his hand clanking against the sleek plate gaining everyone's attention. "'S okay. 'M comin'. I'll be there in no time love." He speaks hastily telling his bodyguard not to follow him with a gesture of his hand while striding to his car in big steps.

"Y/N. Darlin'? Yeh' there?" He asks you with his chest tightening with anxiety when the other end of line was dead as grave, "'m, i'm." Your breath spurts into coughs and Harry sighs sympathetically at your condition. It took him fifteen minutes to reach your hotel.

"Which room?" None of you noticed that the phone was still on line. You were half conscious cheeks soaked and smashed into silk pillow case. "Room number, sweets?" He asks you patiently running through different floors to take care of you as soon as possible.

"2-234.." You stutter. Harry halts in the middle of corridor snapping his head everywhere your room was three rooms away from him.

"Can yeh' stand up for me and unlock the door for meh? Can yeh do that sweet girl?" Harry's standing at your door and your sob muffles into your arm when you shake your head in denial. Luckily the door was unlocked.

"Stupid girl." Harry mutters under his breath pressing the red button when he finally tumbles inside your room. He wants to scold you for not caring for your safety when you're sick, fragile and barely able to stand up.

His heart grips into a knot when you turn to your side. The girl he was with last night long gone. Your lips blue and wobbling. Cheeks red and wet. Sweat sheening. Your body shaking. You could be barely seen from under the layers of blankets.

"Oh sweet girl. 'm so sorry." The mattress dips under his weight and he hovers over you taking you in his arms instantly. Squeezing you tight and warm, it feels good so you cuddles your face into the crook of his neck. He gasps when his hand glides down your back and finds it pooling with so much sweat, and you burning like sun outside.

"You're burnin' love." He says with wide eyes cautiously smoothing his hand at your back to make you feel better.

"It hurts, Harry." Harry pulls you from your shoulders rolling his thumb in the dips to massage them, "where?" Your chest rumbles with another whimper as you bolt your eyes shut.

"Everywhere."

He inquires further and you give a drowsy moan when he expertly massages your shoulders and arms, "did you take your medicine?" You nod at this head falling against his chest and if he wouldn't be so worried about your condition his tummy would've flipped so hard.

"And did yeh' ate somethin' befo' that?" When you shake your head in rejection he again pulls you back looking down at you in offend and shock.

"Y/N..." He warns you with a tough expression. Then he cups your cheeks making you look at him even though your eyes are closed he scolds you strictly, "Y/N you should be kind to yourself too."

"Now. 'M gonna take ye' to hospital." He announces and you squirm away from his grip shaking your head like a child. You hate hospitals.

"Y/N..don't be difficult darlin'." Only if he knew he has to deal with this his whole life. As you try to speak your words swallows back when he snakes his arms under your armpits making you stand up.

"No buts. Look at ye'. Yer condition will worsen if yeh' keep refusin' to go." With your whole weight over his side he makes you sit in the passenger seat, stroking your cheek with his knuckles giving you a reassuring smile and rounding to his driver side.

He keeps on checking you through the whole drive. You're still high on fever when he places his palm at the curve of your neck then at your forehead tsking when you moaned in pain, "'s gonna be alright." He rubs your knee trying to give you a smile through his own anxiousness.

They checks you in the ER. The doctor notes your symptoms on his notepad and Harry gazes you in full concentration sitting right beside you, he has your fingers laced with his's and he's continuously rubbing your back to provide you with any warmth.

"I've a very low immune system since I had a tonsillectomy when I was nine. Had an ice-cream last night and quite often I know I get sick in this season." You toy with his silver rings carelessly. Harry admires you. Dunno why. He just do. Because he thinks he might be falling for the way you talk, you behave and try to remain polite in every circumstances.

"Miss Y/N since you've your tonsils removed your coping mechanism from bacteias's less and you've caught a pneumonia." Your head immediately turns to look at Harry and when he sees that fear in your eyes he unwinds his hand from yours leaning to take your chin, "hey...hey lovie'. It's okay you'll heal in a week."

The doctor hands the prescription to Harry. The next thing he announces makes you sob like a five years old, "no. no. no." You shake your head shrinking back and Harry gives the doctor a sheepish akward smile stroking your hair.

Doctor sighs at your behaviour leaving at last, "the nurse will be here soon to give you injections."

Harry quickly stands up shutting the large curtain that's around the stretcher bed you both are sitting at as soon as he comes back you wrap your hands around his forearm. He hisses when you dig your nails to his flesh your tears dropping at his wrists.

"I don't like needles. I loathe them. They scare me." You sniffle and Harry ducks to your level metting your glossy gaze. He caress your head kissing your hair, "you're so brave. I know it. It would just be a pinch. Ye' can squeeze the fuck outta my hand if yeh want to." He has his fingers tucked under your earlobes as he again and again wipes your tears.

The nurse comes to you shutting the curtains behind her. She's old lady in age and observes the couple infront of her. Well, for her you both are looking like one.

You immediately move back to Harry's side as he's sitting now with his front infront of you, "scared of needles." Harry tells her timidly in a low voice puffing his cheeks a bit in gentility.

Harry saps his opal teeth into his lower lip when you wrapped your elbow around the nape of his neck bringing him down closer to you and your face shoved to his chest near his armpit. His other arm wrapping around your waist to flush you closer to him. He tries to drift your attention to himself whispering sweet nothings into your ear and the nurse awes applying alcohol where she has to inject the needle.

"'S okay. We're gonna get home after this, have some soup, will take a nap, watch some telly...." He smoothes his hand over your spine grasping it softly. You stiff in his genial hold twitching and hissing loudly when the needle was poked and pushed into your delicate skin. His white shirt's completely soaked into your tears now but he doesn't give two fucks.

"Just two more." The nurse mutters and you perk your head away from Harry's chest looking at her horrified, "two more!?" You squeak out hiccuping and Harry has to suppress his giggle at your expense from how adorable you look.

He again shoves your head back in his armpit muffling your huffing and tantrums. "Don't move darlin' don't wanna get yeh' hurt." His hold tight and firm.

"Hurts." You pout and Harry traces it stopping himself to just lean down and kiss it. Nurse left you guys to yourself and Harry breaths loudly grinning at you, patting his thighs standing up helping you too.

"Thank you, Harry." You crane your neck to see him properly rubbing your nose once Harry makes sure you're sitting in his car comfortably.

"No problem, love." He kisses your cheek making your lips quirk up for the first time.

***

You're sitting crossed legs on the twin sized bed of your hotel room. Harry takes a quick glance of you pouring soup into some bowl. Your temperature a little bit coming back to normal, sweat still there as you rests your head back at the board of bed. You're room's nothing sort of luxurious it's dinky and compact.

"Here love." Harry hands you the soup making sure to be careful that you don't get burnt and you takes it from him with a series of appreciation.

"Feelin' better now?" He asks you rubbing your ankles as you places your feet in his lap. Blowing onto your soup and he does the same shoving spoonful in his mouth.

"Way better. Felt like dying honestly." Harry couldn't imagine how bad your condition was he saw it himself and he gives you a weak smile, his man-bun getting loose now.

"Where are your friends? they should have known that you weren't feeling well."

"They asked me but—" Harry's low voice cut you off. In just a day he got to know what your nature's like.

"But you didn't wanted to spoil their fun." You roll your eyes playfully wiggling your toes in his lap to tickle his tummy but he catches them making you squeal through sore throat.

He giggles when you slurp purposedly attaching your lips to the rim of your bowl. Once you're full he places your medicine in your palm and when you makes an icky face he gives you a stern gaze, "uh-huh. Take 'em."

When you swallow the bitter medicines down with a huge gulp of water he pats your head, "good girl." He puts the glass at nightstand. Caressing your jaw, "wanna take a nap?" You nod.

"W-would you lay down with me, ...'s just my body aches and—" You tried to explain without letting heat to creep at your cheeks. He bobs his head furiously more than okay to fulfil your wish.

Without any word he shifts gently to your side getting rid of the hair band that was trapping his long curls into a bun, squeezing into twin sized bed with you, "sorry." he quips when you hiss at his cold bare feet touching your warm ones.

"It's okay." You smile up at him moving closer to him. Sheets rustling underneath as you rests your head over his sprawled forearm. Your bodies reacting automatically like one of soulmates when your knee nudged his legs and he parted them so that you could place your sore one in between them. You molded into him like a piece of puzzle, that was just meant to fill the part of him that was scraped out because of his fate leaving him shallow and empty.

"Sorry for ruining your day." You mumble into his neck fingers brushing the baby curls at the nape of his neck. He shakes his head running his thumb in circles under your hair that were sticking to your neck, "No, thank you fo' makin' my day better. 'M havin' fun babying you." You titters at this and he sighs. There's calm. Heart beats in sync. Yours was racing moments ago. You're tangled into eachother's embrace and he pulls thin blanket ontop of both of you.

You purr wishing he could be always with you at how he's a walking talking heater, "you're warm." Harry senses come to a pause at the kitten voice you just let out snuggling into him deeper and exhaling the breath he was holding in. He melts into you kissing your forehead and petting your cheeks.

"Sleep sweet girl." His breathing lulls you to deep slumber.

***

It's late in night. Harry squints his eyes to street lights coming from the balcony window. He groans and when pushes his face away from you, a huge lovesick smile dances at his lips. He slept so good after so long. Your warmth and sweet flesh pressed into him made him drift to sleep so quick.

He brushes your loose hair back, adorning every feature of you. Fever making you look more glowy and swelly. Then when he leans to kiss your forehead he hears the quite whimper escaping from your lips.

He places his hand at your neck to check and you're again burning. Sighing he wakes you up by smoothing his hands down your arm, stroking your hair gently and tapping your cheek with his two fingers.

You're murmuring weepily in your sleep. "Wake up y/n. It's time for your second dose." He keeps his voice slow not to startle you and your eyelids fluttered taking it's time to absorb his presence.

You shift back against the headrest. He brings the glass closer to your lips after giving you medicine. One hand on your head other making you sip water.

"W-wanna go home. Home Harry." You say in your breaths hiccuping and Harry feels so helpless. He tries to calm you down in every way possible.

He knows you're not talking about going back to London. Your talking about your actual homeplace. Then it hits him, that you're both missing that feeling. Even though you're bubbly, happy and cheerful girl you still miss home as Harry does too. You're perfect for eachother.

He takes you in his arms bringing you back to bed. You hug him close to your heart tearing in his embrace, soft whimpers in his ears that's a knife to his stomach. He pecks the side of your head multiple times.

"Home." You sniff eyes dropping. Harry messages your scalp. Your body moving up and down as he breaths. Your continuous blabbering of 'home' dulls to your sleeping breath and Harry's own eyes craved for more drowsiness with you.

He bolts his eyes shut when his phone vibrates under him. "What!?" He spats whisper yelling, you still over him. He doesn't want to disturb you by any means. Not when you're sick and went back to sleep with so much difficulty.

"'M not coming." He declares dryly as his manager tries his best to coax him back to whatever place they want him asap.

He throws his phone onto sheets cuddling back into you, letting your scent to consume him fully. His heart prancing at the thought of serenity he'll feel while sleeping else it's just jolts of anxiety.

***

Next morning your arms were holding onto nothing, there's no shoulder on which you were crying earlier. The room's dull and sheets cold. Sun refused to outshine for today it didn't got any emarld to beam at.

"Harry...?" You whisper innocently rubbing sleepiness from your eyes and when the silence laughed back at your face you sigh sadly.

You knew from the very start that his presence was just a mere touch of heaven and it's not his fault that you never got to complete dive into him.

It's just you and your homesick soul staring blankly at the flower wallpaper. His soft, giddy vanilla smell hugging you from every side. Consuming your body and you didn't realized you'll miss him until now.

Maybe, you and your love was contagious to him.

.

𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞 a 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞!!! Don't forget to give your feedbacks.

[wannabe-fic-writer]

Natasha Romanoff x Reader : Prove Me Wrong

Summary: She can trust you, even if she doesn’t know it yet.

Warning: 18+ Mental Health, Mentions of Death, Mentions of Violence, Smut

Chapter 12 - Final Chapter

* * * * * *

Natasha’s lithe fingers follow the trail of your spine, her touch on your bare skin gently stirring you from your sleep. 

The touch halts, lingering on a darker spot on your hip. Using the tip of her finger she traces the pattern of the birthmark. 

She hadn’t noticed that before. Just another thing about your body she’d learned in the past few days. 

While you weren’t sex crazed, after your first time together, you and Natasha had become much more sexually active. Almost every available night you spent tangled up in each other. 

That didn’t happen of course until after you’d both had a long and understanding conversation about what had happened. 

Now though, you’re both closer than you had been before, in every way. 

Natasha moves, leaning down to press a soft kiss to the mark on your hip, before curling into your back and kissing your neck. You, basking in her warmth and gentle touch, cuddle back into her and grab her hand, lacing your fingers together and holding it to your chest. 

“Good morning lyubov moya.” She speaks softly, each breath fanning your neck. 

You turn in her embrace, a sleepy smile on your lips,“ morning malyshka.”

A faint blush coats her cheeks as she ducks her head. Making you chuckle and press a kiss to the top of her head, arms tightening around her. 

Looking to the nightstand, your eyes widen when you realize you’d both slept well into the day, the time reading 11:35. No doubt due to the previous nights activities. 

“Tash, we should probably get up.” You tell the woman, just barely upset you’d wasted half the day.

She groans, somehow snuggling into you further.

You didn’t think you’d ever see the day Natasha Romanoff didn’t want to get out of bed. The woman consistently wakes up before the sun rises. 

“Don’t you just want to stay here with me?” Her words are a whisper against your skin and you shiver involuntarily. 

Biting your lip, you try to build a firm resolve in your head, but with the way Natasha’s fingers keeping gently stroking your skin, and the small pout on her lips, you fold.

Playfully groaning, you nod,“ I mean I guess we can stay in bed a little longer.” You look up to the ceiling in fake thought before meeting her gaze again.

"You make it seem as if this isn’t exactly what you want to be doing.” She teases, eyebrow quirked at you challengingly.

Of course she’s right. What right minded person wouldn’t want to stay in the arms of their love. 

Instead of indulging her smug attitude, you lean closer and press a kiss to her lips. She moves to deepen it, her lips adding pressure to yours. And then she pulls away abruptly. 

Eyes wide you back up a little, in case you just did something you shouldn’t have,“ what? What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing I just, I have to pee.” She smacks a quick kiss to your lips and crawls out of bed.

You nod, then watching her sprint to the bathroom. While she’s in the bathroom, you use that time to get up and pull on some clothes, also picking up the clothes you and your girlfriend had discarded last night.

“This does not look like staying in bed.” 

Looking, your eyes move to the bathroom door where Natasha stands, hands on her hips. You can’t stop your gaze from trailing over the woman’s naked body. Every inch of her is beautiful: scars, curves, birthmarks, freckles, everything is breathtaking.

You nod and shake your head at the same time,“ yeah no I- well I was just tidying up is all.”

Green eyes narrow and she points to the bed. With a chuckle you obey, crawling back under the covers, and accepting Natasha into your arms when she crawls in afterwards. 

The both of you sit in the silence, reveling in each other’s embrace. A low hum leaves the ex-assassin’s lips when your fingers graze her scalp as you comb through her hair. The soft affection from you making her smile a little.

“Hey,” she squeezes you gently,“ I love you.”

Smiling brightly, you kiss the top of her head,“ I love you too Tash.”

Just holding her makes you beyond happy and you can’t express how glad you are things worked out. 

Seeing as you hadn’t exactly practiced what you preached, you hadn’t seen the benefits of total honesty with your partner. Now that you’re both on the same page it’s the most incredible feeling.

Natasha’s proven to be the most loving, understanding, and caring woman. Knowing that she can trust you wholly has her acting in a way she didn’t think she ever would. You’d pulled out this childlike happiness that she wasn’t allowed to have in the past. Moments like this: being affectionate and playful, happening more often. 

It’s not until Natasha’s stomach rumbles from hunger that you decide to get up. Leaving her to take a shower, you head out to the kitchen.

“Good morning Buck, Mister Rogers.” You nod to both men. 

They smile back, Bucky good naturedly patting your shoulder as you pass by.

“Looks like you slept well.” Steve notes, earning a scoff and chuckle from Bucky. 

“Or not at all.” 

Wide eyed you look back at the man, who sports a knowing grin. Steve’s cheeks heat up and you refrain from retaliating to Bucky purely for his sake. 

That doesn’t mean a comment isn’t made though.“ Jealous Rogers hasn’t put out yet?” 

All eyes fall to Natasha as she comes in smirking at Bucky and winking at Steve. You sigh, shaking your head at the woman’s antics and focusing on making her something to eat. 

As you cook, you engage in conversation with the three. They make it known that there’s been a spike in missions lately, something to do with some mad scientist over in California. 

Setting a plate down in front of Natasha, you ask,“ so they’re just mass experimenting on people and there hasn’t been any news on it?” 

They all raise their eyebrows at you as you sit to eat as well.“ What kind of news would you expect? It’s not like they’re interviewing the bad guy.”

“Well no, obviously, but if there’s suddenly a bunch of enhanced individuals tearing up the west coast I refuse to believe there are no reports on it. Some kid who saw them and posted about it, a family noticing their relative missing or showing abnormal abilities, hell a news report on some kind of superpowered mugger?” You explain yourself. 

You may not be here as a superhero but you’ve seen the way the public reacts to them. When the Avengers came out there wasn’t a news station that didn’t cover their every move.

“She’s right,” Natasha nods,“ we keep looking at underground channels instead of plain ole media.”

Both men share a glance, Steve then leaning forward and looking at you,“ where would we start?” 

A small chuckle leaves your lips,“ honestly, I’d go straight to social media. I don’t know what kind of programs or whatever you guys use but if you searched a particular word combination,” as you speak you go to wash up the few dishes you and Natasha had used,“ like superhuman + California it’s likely you’ll find something. Everything is always all over social media.” 

“So-”

Natasha quickly cuts Steve off,“ okay okay she’s given us a lead, let’s talk about it with Tony.” 

Both men nod, all of you understanding Natasha’s reasons for stopping it here: she doesn’t want you involved in this part of their work. 

In one of your many moments of honesty she told you that she would rather you not get into that. The team already comes back from missions and lays all that on you and you’re of course in danger enough just living with them, knowing in  depth mission details puts you further in danger and she refuses. 

And you’d also told her you genuinely didn’t want to be that involved anyway. As cool as you’ve seen being an Avenger can be, you have no interest in actually being one. Their therapist is a position you’re more than happy to fill. 

“Fellas, excuse us.” Natasha nods to them, taking your hand and pulling you back to your room. 

You can’t help giggle when she pushes you on to the bed and goes right back to cuddling you like you hadn’t left the bed in the first place. 

That’s where you both stay for the next few hours. Even when you decide to do something else she keeps you in her arms. While you play on your switch she watches over your shoulder, sporadically presses kisses to your neck, and asks what the heck it is you’re doing. 

Until the time approaches for you to get ready for tonight. Pepper had insisted that the couples of your friend group go out for the night. First dinner and then going to a play Tony had scored tickets to.

Wanting to be comfortable and still formal, you decide to wear a black pant suit, the top you choose is a solid black bralette, and you pair it all with a simple pair of black heels. 

“Zip me up?” Natasha steps out of the bathroom and turns her back to you.

As you do so, your eyes roam over her figure in the mirror. How she can make such a simple green dress look so beautifully elegant you don’t know but you love it. 

“You look gorgeous, love.” You tell her, pressing a light kiss to her shoulder. 

She smiles as she looks at you,“ as do you malyshka.” 

Once you both have everything you need, you leave out. Bucky and Steve are waiting for the two of you by the door and together all of you climb into Bucky’s truck.

Everyone meets up at the restaurant and are seated after confirming that they’re a part of Tony’s dinner party.

Admittedly you weren’t too sure about this whole thing for a number of reasons, but your worries fade away throughout dinner. 

There’s an amazing energy flowing through the group. It’s beyond entertaining to see the matching sass between Tony and Maria Rambeau. The woman is just as witty as Carol which makes their interactions with the billionaire very entertaining. 

You find yourself jumping from about three different conversations, one being with Pepper, Laura, and Natasha, the other with Clint, Steve, and Bucky, and of course the one with Tony, Carol, and Maria. 

Funnily enough, the first conversation sounds a lot like what you’d expect to hear from three wives, wine and partner complaints galore, with the guys it’s mainly sports(Bucky and Clint aren’t too happy about the MLB playoffs), and as mentioned, the last conversation is very sassy. 

“-if I can fly my suits I think I can fly a fighter jet.” The man continues is his argument.

With a chuckle, you look at him pointedly,“ Tony, my friend, pick your battles,” then you take a bite of your dessert.

Natasha notices the way your eyes widen and you eagerly take another bite. Her elbow gently nudges you and when she gives the cutest little pout you know what she wants. So you scoop another piece of the food onto your spoon and hold it out to her. 

A hum of approval leaves her and you smile, wiping a spot of chocolate off the corner of her lip, which elicits her to lean in and kiss you. 

The bubble pops when Tony speaks,“ it’s like we aren’t even here.” 

His words make your friends laugh, Pepper reaches over to smack his arm,“ pay him no mind, you two are adorable together.” 

“Natasha and adorable? Never thought I’d see the day.” Tony further teases.

“Hey T, remember when you lost that bet to me and had to wear-”

“Aye aye okay,” he raises his hands in surrender,“ no more teasing I got it.”

Pepper covers her laugh with her hand, knowing exactly what you’re talking about, and everyone else looks at you and Tony expectantly. But you smoothly change the conversation and everyone soon moves past that moment. 

Almost everybody. 

It’s after you’ve sat down at the play venue that Natasha brings it back up. 

The lights dim and she leans into your side, you wrap an arm around her, and the actors walk on to the stage to begin the play.

“Y/n,” she pokes your side making you look over at her, voice a whisper, she asks,“ what did Tony have to wear?” 

Resisting the urge to laugh out loud, you lean over to whisper in her ear,“ assless chaps.” 

Her jaw drops, the corners of her lips lifting in amusement,“ you’re kidding.”

You shake your head,“ it’s a long story but the moral of it is that Tony should not underestimate me.”

Even though your eyes are trained on the play you can feel Natasha still looking at you. 

If you were looking at her though, you’d see stars in those green orbs. Better yet hearts. You would see how absolutely in love with you she is. And she genuinely can’t believe it.

Had anyone told her, when you walked through the compound doors, that she would’ve fallen in love with you she would’ve laughed. And she would’ve been more wrong than she ever had been in her life. Because here she is staring at you like a lovestruck idiot.

You’d managed to come in and completely flip her world upside down. 

“Miss Romanoff, you’re missing the play.” A teasing smile masks your lips as you look down at her. 

Before you can turn away, she’s gently grabbing your chin, and kissing you. 

“Thank you.” Her breath fans your lips. 

“For what?” You frown.

“For proving me wrong. At every turn. You’re the most incredible woman I’ve ever met-”

“Shhhhh.” A voice interrupts from behind you and you turn around to find a frowning, clearly pissed off, older man.

Locking eyes with him you whisper/yell,“ hey buddy my girl’s trying to profess her undying love for me, if you could just not butt in that’d be great.” With a thumbs up you turn back to Natasha,“ as you were saying.”

The woman shakes her head amusedly,“ I love you so fucking much.”

Even though you can tell she has more to say, it’s obviously not the best place for that. Besides you know the two of you have all the time in the world, so you simply kiss her again,“ I love you too.”

* * * * * *

taglist: @username23345 @muffliat-o  @aaron-despair @natasha-danvers​ @wildhoney32 @criminallyhamilton @fayhar @nat-km-mh @chicken-wang09 @trikruismybitch

[hockey-fics]

Do Better ~ Travis Konecny 

Summary: Your relationship with Travis was supposed to be over but seven months later neither of you has been able to find the willpower to stay away from each other.

Warnings: toxic relationship (jealousy, arguments, terrible communication), smut, language. 

Word Count: ~2,800

A/N: Didn’t want to put the effort into making a gif for this one because I’m not super happy with it but I just wanted to post so hopefully I’ll get back into posting more often.

‘Can I come over?’

Such a simple text message that carried so much more than those four words should ever hold. 

Travis. You had broken up with him 7 months ago. Broken up with him 7 months ago and yet the stream of text messages over that time would say otherwise. It was like a highlight reel of both of your lowest moments, clambering for each other in the moments of loneliness. 

‘come over’

‘I miss you y/n’

‘call me’

‘are you up?

‘I need you, trav’ 

‘send me pics please’

There were reasons you two broke up, more than just a couple. But as soon as you would start to feel lonely, wishing you had someone to be with in every sense of the word, those reasons seemed to vanish from your mind. 

They were the nights you would go out to the bar and Travis would get pouty and annoyed anytime a guy so much as looked at you a little too long. When he would find reasons to be suspicious about every male coworker or guy friend you were spending time with. And you weren’t much better. You would find yourself laying in bed while he was on the road, wondering if he was out at a bar flirting with other girls, buying them drinks with his NHL salary. 

Or days when he would come home and barely speak to you after bad games. When you would try your best to be a supportive girlfriend only to get brushed off, like you were simply an annoyance to him. But you could never take the high-road, could never let him have his time to cool off. You always needed to say something and something would always end in an argument. You two yelling at each other till you shut each other up with your lips on each other, clothes being scattered in whatever room the argument happened to be taking place in. And nothing ever got resolved, just a silent agreement to not bring the fight back up. 

You were just as bad though. When you weren’t getting the attention you wanted from him you would turn to other sources. You would act just a little too friendly towards his teammates the day after one of your fights. Or you would make more conversation than you needed to with the waiter at the restaurant, the barista at the coffee shop, anyone who would make Travis jealous. And later that day he would fuck you, hard and fast and make you whimper just who you belonged to. 

As your friends described it, your relationship had a toxic side. But perhaps the most toxic part of it all was that now that you were ex’s the only parts that remained in your connection with each other were the toxic parts. The good times were gone now. The fact that you would only go running to him when you wanted him, needed him, to fuck you like only he seemed to know how to. When he would leave you on read for days until you posted a picture with one of your guy friends and suddenly he was in your DMs faster than you realized he was even capable of typing. When you would go on a bad date and have the Uber take you to Travis’ apartment after it was over rather than your own, using him to deal with the disappointment of the terrible night. When he was on the road and would FaceTime you late at night, his intentions clear and your willpower not strong enough to resist taking your clothes off for him, following every little direction he would mutter to you over the phone in the dimly lit hotel room. When you would post pictures to your snap or insta stories when you wanted him to talk to you but didn’t want to be the one to reach out. 

And tonight was no exception. The Flyers had just won a game, one in which he had played incredibly well. You knew he was looking for a way to celebrate that win and you knew he was hoping it would be with your body. As much as you knew you should say no you simply couldn’t. 

‘yes’ 

An hour later Travis is in your apartment. He’s still wearing his dress shirt and pants, not even having the patience to go home to get changed first. You didn’t even need to let him in, you had never gotten the key you gave him a year into the relationship back. 

“You played well,” you tell him, sitting beside him on the couch as he scrolls through Netflix to pick a movie neither of you would watch for more than a couple minutes. 

“You still watch them all, hey?” Travis mutters, a teasing undertone to his voice. Because he knew you were still in love with you. You knew he was still in love with you too but it still made your blood boil whenever he would insinuate it. 

“I don’t watch them for you,” you state with feigned confidence.

“Oh?” Travis knows you’re lying but he goes along with it anyway. 

“Still think Carter is pretty hot,” you tell him, turning your body to the side to look at him. You had said it once during your relationship, at a bar. You had been sitting beside Travis when you saw Carter walk in, making an absentminded comment about him being hot. It wasn’t even meant to rile Travis up, just an observation. But it ended with Travis pulling you into the bathroom and bending you over the counter, forcing you to watch him fuck you from behind. 

A smirk grows on Travis’ face as he turns to look at you. “You really want me to fuck you like that again, baby girl?”

“Maybe I could get Carter to fuck me like that.”

“Stop,” Travis mutters, voice low, warning. It was different now. There was nothing Travis could really say when you made comments like that, you weren’t his anymore. 

“Make me.”

Travis tosses the remote to the side, giving up on picking a movie. His hands grab your hips, rough as he pulls you across his lap so you were straddling him. His lips are on yours, kissing you with a fiery passion that ignites every nerve in your body. You rock your hips down against him, his grip on your hips tightening as you do. Before you know it Travis is tugging your t-shirt up over your head, fingers grazing over your bare skin as his lips trail down your jaw and to your neck. By the time he gets to your chest he’s sucking and nipping your skin hard, leaving marks that you know will be there for the next few days. He’s making it more difficult for you to be with anyone else, little did he know you really had no interest in being with anyone else at this point. But you let him believe otherwise, because it was more fun for you. 

You start with the bottom buttons of his shirt as he continues to work over your chest, sucking your nipple into his mouth, tongue flicking over it lightly. Your hand cups beneath Travis’ jaw as you tip his head back when you get to the top buttons, moving your hands back to make quick work of the rest of his shirt. His skin is warm as you push his shirt off his shoulders and down his arms. While your movements are slow and deliberate Travis isn’t sharing the same patience. After tossing his shirt to the side his hands are on the waistband of your shorts, pushing them down your legs. And you’ve done this so many times before that you know exactly when and how to shift your legs to make the process easy. 

“Fuck,” Travis groans when he realizes you weren’t wearing underwear. 

You can’t stop the smirk that spreads on your lips, knowing how much control you had over him without even needing to do anything. But just as you were beginning to feel in control Travis runs his fingers along your folds and you’re falling apart at his touch. You lean forward further onto your knees, giving him more space between your bodies to work with. “So wet for me,” Travis mutters, fingers brushing against your entrance before sliding up to your clit. He circles around it till you’re whimpering, begging for more. “Please, Travis, please.”

Travis chuckles quietly and you know he’s fully aware of the power he has over you. But he doesn’t tease you for much longer, his thumb brushing gentle circles over your clit as his fingers find their way back towards your entrance. Your head is on his shoulder a minute later, soft moans filling the room as he presses one finger inside of you, then another. And he uses the rhythm he knows you like to easily work you through an orgasm. “Fuck, Travis, I’m going to-.”

“I know,” Travis mutters, working you through your orgasm with one hand, the other circled around your waist. You let out a string of loud moans, body writhing in pleasure, your legs shaking as they struggle to keep you from completely collapsing onto Travis. “I got you,” Travis mutters, slowly pulling his hand out from between you, his hands tug your legs closer to him, letting you drop your weight down onto his lap. “You’re so fucking hot,” Travis mutters, pushing himself forward on the couch as he grabs your legs and stands up, still holding onto you. 

“I can walk,” you tell him as Travis carries you towards your bedroom. 

“Are you sure about that?” Travis teases, making you giggle as you wrap your arms tighter around his shoulders. 

In the bedroom Travis drops you down onto the bed, pulling you to the edge of the mattress as he gets down onto his knees. He lifts your legs up over his shoulders, lips trailing up your inner thighs as you let out a heavy breath, flopping flat against the bed, head tipped back. When his lips get to your core you let out a shaky gasp, tongue flicking against your already sensitive clit and making your body jolt. His tongue works against your clit as he brings his fingers back to your entrance, gently circling it for a few minutes before sliding two fingers inside of you. Your back arches against the mattress as you clutch at the fabric of your comforter beneath you. “Please…fuck…I just, Trav, please,” you stutter out. 

“What do you need?” Travis asks, pulling back to look up at you. 

Quickly you shake your head, fingers curling into his hair. “No, please don’t stop,” you whine, watching him smirk before he goes back to what he was doing. 

And before you know if you’re being brought to your second orgasm of the night, grasping helplessly as the blankets as your body jolts through wave after wave of pleasure. When Travis finally makes his way back up to your lips, kissing you gently, you realize he still had yet to even take his own pants off. Sitting up you push Travis to his feet, fingers unbuckling his belt, unbuttoning his pants and slipping them down his legs. You run your fingers over his length through the fabric of his boxers, enjoying the sound of his throaty groan. You don’t make him wait too long before you’re pushing his boxers down as well and pulling Travis back on top of you. “I need you inside me,” you whisper and he doesn’t hesitate. He pushes into you, slowly and gently despite the fact that you were so wet and ready for him you didn’t need a second to adjust to the sensation. 

Your hands grasp at Travis’ back, legs wrapped around him as he thrusts his hips into you. After a few minutes he’s pulled back, hands on your hips as he flips you over. Before he even has the chance to say anything you’re on your knees, arms braced in front of you as he slides back inside you. You let out a quiet moan, as he uses one hand on your hip to brace his thrusts while the other wraps around you to brush against your clit. 

Loud whimpers and moans escape your lips, your pleasure getting to the point where it was almost too much. “Trav,” you whine, fingers curled into the blankets as you brace yourself from rocking forward with every thrust. “Travis, I…it’s too much.”

“Pluto?” Travis mutters, slowing down as he waits for your response. It was your safe word, the only way you could convince him to choke you or hold you down when you first brought up the idea of rougher sex at the very beginning of the relationship. 

“N-no,” you stammer, shaking your head. “Keep going.”

“Okay,” Travis mutters, but you can tell he’s being gentler, his hips not carrying as much power with each thrust, his fingers softer and slower on your clit. But you’re brought to another orgasm nonetheless, no longer able to stop yourself from rocking forward as your shaky arms can barely keep yourself off the mattress. 

“Fuck,” Travis mutters, his thrusts getting sloppy. He moves both hands to your hips now, holding you in place as he brings himself to his own high. You can feel him cum inside of you and he’s holding you almost completely still now, breathing heavily in the quiet stillness of the bedroom for a few moments before pulling out ever so slowly. Reaching over Travis grabs the box of Kleenex from your nightstand, easing you onto your back and cleaning you up. “I’ll be right back,” Travis tells you, leaning onto the bed to leave a gentle kiss on your forehead. 

Travis returns with a damp cloth, using it to fully clean you up, his touch soft and gentle. “You should go,” you suddenly blurt out when he pulls away, feeling a well of emotion in your chest. 

“What?” Travis’ voice is full of surprise, looking down at you with furrowed eyebrows. “Like, this second?”

All you can manage to do it nod, feeling the threat of tears. An ache in your throat, stinging in your eyes. 

But you’re not hiding it nearly as well as you think and Travis is pulling you into his chest, arms holding you tight to his body. “What’s wrong? Are you okay? Did I…did I hurt you?”

“No, no,” you assure him quickly, a few tears slipping from your eyes. “I miss you, Travis. I love you. I don’t know, I don’t want you to go.”

“You just told me to go.”

Shoving at his chest you pull yourself away from his grasp. “Because it’s easier if you just go now instead of in the morning. I can’t…I can’t let you stay here and cuddle all night. It hurts.”

Travis reaches back over, taking your hands, trying desperately to maintain the physical contact you kept pushing away. “I don’t have to,” Travis tells you. “I don’t have to leave in the morning.”

“Stop,” you snap, pulling your hands away from him and climbing off your bed. Steadying your shaky legs you walk to your dresser, yanking on the first t-shirt you could find, which just so happened to be one of Travis’ that he left there so long ago you were sure he had forgotten about it. “We broke up, Travis. We’re done.”

“We don’t have to be,” Travis counters as he follows your lead, pulling on his boxers and taking tentative steps in your direction. 

“Yes, we do,” you yell. “We weren’t good for each other.”

“I’ll do better,” Travis pleads, stepping closer to you. “Let’s just try again.”

“It wasn’t just you, Travis. It was me too. You can’t just fix this on your own.”

“Then do better too,” Travis states and you stare up at him blankly, taken aback by him calling you out so directly. 

“I-,” you begin, having no defence for yourself. You couldn’t say that you couldn’t try that. You couldn’t say that you didn’t need to do better. He was right and you either had to accept that or accept that this relationship needed to end completely. “Okay.”

“Okay,” Travis repeats, nodding slowly. “Should we talk about it in the morning?”

“Probably,” you agree, knowing you needed to be more level headed than you were feeling now to have any type of serious discussion. 

“Do you want me to come back in the morning, or-.”

“Stay,” you whisper, reaching over and taking his hand. “Spend the night with me, please.”

Travis nods, letting you guide him back to your bed. The two of you curl up underneath the blankets, falling asleep in a tangled mess together with the promise of tomorrow. Tomorrow. Tomorrow you would figure it all out. But for now, now you were going to do what you always did. Pretend everything was okay. 

[skullrock]

the lesson - Steve x Reader

pairing: Steve x Reader

summary: a continuation of the Faker - you decide to teach Steve how to have good sex. 

word count: 4.2k of pure fuckin smut baby

warnings: SMUT. swearing.

a/n: this is my fucking magnum opus y'all. this is it. it won’t get any better. I have reached my peak. I really hope you guys enjoy dorky and silly Steve learning how to have sex! this was really amazing and fun to write!! there WILL be another part to this so keep your eyes peeled!

===

On a Thursday afternoon, you get a phone call. Sitting up in bed, you grab the phone from beside you.

“Hello?”

“Y/N, I need your help.” It’s Steve.

“What’s going on? Are you okay?”

“I – fine,” he says. “I need your help.”

“Yes?” you say, confused.

“Do you… happen to have… Stacy MacNamera’s number?”

You still, confusion increasing. “Your ex-girlfriend Stacy?”

“Yeah.”

“…You want her number?”

“Yes.”

You drop your head into your free hand. “Steve… why-“

“Look, I’ll cut to the chase,” he says. “Remember our… conversation?”

“The one where I told you women fake all the time?”

“Yeah, that,” he says. His voice becomes soft and you lean into the phone to hear him better. “I want to ask – to see if I was – if she faked it for me.”

You have no words.

“I need your help because Robin won’t –“

“Yeah, no shit, Robin won’t!” You groan, straightening. “What makes you think I will help?”

He pauses. “Um… because – I will really appreciate it?”

“Just ask Nancy. For fuck’s sake, Steve, you can’t just call someone you dated in high school to ask if you dicked them down good enough.”

“I can’t ask Nancy,” he scoffs. “That’s weird.”

“Weirder than asking someone from four years ago if she liked your –“

“I’ll call you back,” he groans, and hangs up.

You slowly put the phone back on the receiver, absolutely speechless. You hope the guy doesn’t stick his foot in his mouth even more so than usual.

===

A knock comes on your door a few hours later. You run downstairs and open it, only to be met with Steve, looking like a lost puppy. You can tell his hand has been through his hair more than a dozen times, and he looks stressed.

“Results weren’t good, huh?”

“Can I come in?” he asks sadly. You relent, stepping to the side, and he heads straight for your couch. He slams his body into it and ducks his head into his arms.

“What happened, champ?” You ask sympathetically, sitting down across from him.

After a moment, he speaks. “She said I was okay. She said when we had sex the first time, she didn’t get the hype.”

You suppress a laugh.

“She said it was mediocre,” he continues, and moves his head to the side to look at you. “She said I was fine with moving my hips, but not much else. And then she said I didn’t know what the – what the -?” He furrows his brows. “The… click? Is?”

“What did you just say?” you ask, leaning forward and almost falling out of the chair. “The click?”

“Is that like, when you know you love someone?” he says, frowning. “Because I think I get the click –”

“Steve,” you breathe, eyes wide. “Steve, you dumbass. Did she say the clit?”

His brows furrow, and then he nods. “Yeah, yeah, the clit.”

“Steve,” you moan, burying your head in your hands. “The clit is a body part, dude. It’s near the vagina.”

“I’m hopeless!” he cries, shoving his head back into his arms. You roll your eyes at his dramatics.

“Calm down,” you say, getting up and kneeling in front of him. You rub his shoulders. “You just need a girl to teach you –“

“You!” he says, bolting into an upright position. “You teach me!”

“What?” you ask, incredulous. “You want me to teach you how to have good sex?”

“Well, yeah,” he says, looking at you like you’re stupid. “It’s not weird, we’re just friends.”

You feel your face heat up. “That’s what makes it weird, genius.”

“It’s like, no strings attached,” he says desperately. “Come on, Y/N, what else are friends for?”

“Your definition of friend is a lot different from mine,” you say, licking your lips nervously. But you’d be lying if you said you didn’t think about it. Steve’s handsome, no denying. But do you really want to have shitty sex?

“I’ll give you all the credit,” he pleas. “Everyone will remember you as the girl who taught me what the clint is.”

You’re curious as to how bad he can be – and maybe it can be cathartic for you. You like helping people. This is just… a bit more help than usual.

“We do it, you don’t tell anyone,” you say. “None of our friends can know.”

“Yeah, yeah!” he says. “That’s fine.”

“But when you start hooking up again, I want the credit.”

“Done, it’s done!”

You sigh heavily, nerves bustling. You get up off your knees and sit beside him. You turn slightly to face him. He looks a bit too excited, and you scoff. “Alright, buddy, I’m teaching you female anatomy, this is strictly professional.”

“Professional, yeah,” he says. “I can be that.”

You sigh again. “Okay. How do you usually start your sexual endeavors?”

He stills, brows furrowed. “Do I tell you or show you?”

“Oh, right,” you say nervously. “I guess you show me.”

He picks up on your nervousness and grins smugly. “This is strictly professional.”

“Shut up,” you hiss. “Just lead me, okay? I’ll stop you when I have critiques or tips.”

“Alright,” he says, and he suddenly grabs you. He pulls you to him, lips on yours.

Your first observation – he’s a good kisser. His lips are soft, and they move purposefully. Honestly, it knocks your breath out of your lungs. Steve’s hands run along your sides gently before resting on your hips, pulling you even closer. His tongue dips out and he licks your bottom lip, so you open. His tongue delves into your mouth, running against yours, and you’re feeling a little too dizzy and a little too hot. His hand rests at the hem of your shirt for a moment before it slides up. His large hand cups your breast and you can’t help but moan, then groan at the smug smile you feel against your lips.

“You’re a good kisser,” you say, pulling away.

“At least I have that goin’ for me, huh?”

You know he notices your red cheeks, but you hope he doesn’t say anything. His hand rests still on your breast and he looks at you eagerly, awaiting instruction.

“Um,” you continue. “Keep going.”

And he does. He lays you down onto your back and goes for your neck next, his lips leaving wet kisses on it. He sucks and bites gently, nearly perfectly. You’re blissed out, holding back your moans because you don’t want to stroke his ego too soon. But then his hands are going towards your pants, and you gasp.

“Woah, buddy,” you say, and he freezes, looking up at you in confusion.

“What?”

“You’re moving too fast,” you say, breathless. “Don’t you work from like, the top down?”

His brows furrow heavily. “No?”

Your brows furrow in response. “You just go for it?”

“Well, yeah.”

“You moron,” you say, sitting up. He opens his mouth to protest, but you throw your shirt off – no bra, as you’d just been lounging. Steve’s mouth drops and his eyes widen, and he’s harder than he’s ever been in a matter of seconds. Your eyes go down to his strained pants and you roll your eyes. “Alright, buddy – it’s just boobs.”

“What do I do?” he asks eagerly as you lay back down.

“Just – come here,” you say, and he does, propping himself up on his elbows. You clear your throat. “Okay, you’re good at using your tongue – at least on the face. So just – use it on – on the nipples.”

He cocks his head but leans down, kissing from your neck down to your chest, tongue occasionally darting out. He gets to one breast and looks up at you uncertainly. You nod in encouragement and he takes your nipple into his mouth. You suck in a sharp breath as he rolls his tongue on it, and then suck in another when he bites it a bit too hard.

“Okay, it’s not a jawbreaker,” you say, laughing. “Gentle.”

For whatever reason, Steve is even more turned on by the directions. It’s been a long time since he’s worshipped a body, and he’s content that it’s yours. His friend. Nothing else. Just his buddy, his pal, his bestie. He smooths his tongue over it and tries again, gentler this time, and it makes you squirm.

“Like that,” you affirm. “Keep practicing.”

Steve runs his lips over your chest, giving you goosebumps, and he does the same gentle treatment to the other breast. One hand comes up and cups your other breast and you nod to tell him you like it. Steve, honestly, is about to lose it, but he makes an effort to focus on how you feel in his mouth instead of how his jeans feel on his dick.

“Okay,” you say eventually, propping yourself up. “Now what, Steve?”

He looks lost. “Um – I keep going down, right?”

“Yes,” you say. “You – literally – keep going down. Have you ever eaten a girl out before?”

He crinkles his nose and you laugh in disbelief. “You’re joking.”

“Well apparently it’s a good thing, since I don’t know what the – Klimt is –“

“Klimt is a painter,” you sigh. “It’s the clit.”

“What’s that stand for?”

“It’s short for clitoris.”

He furrows his brows and looks down at your waistband. You smile. “Strip me, bud.”

Steve takes your pants off slowly – at least he has that part down. He goes to take off your underwear, straining against himself, but you sit up.

“Wait, wait,” you rush. “Take off your clothes now, too.”

He does as he is told – and he makes it dramatic, of course. Shirt coming off slowly, then slowly unbuttoning himself, unzipping extra slow.

“Steve, you don’t have to go that slow,” you say.

“I’m doing it for you!”

“I didn’t ask for a strip tease.”

He rolls his eyes but takes his jeans off. You see how hard he is through his boxers and your mouth automatically waters, but you look back up at his face, pushing the lust down. “You’re that hard already?”

“It’s been a while,” he admits sheepishly. “Boxers on or off?”

“On.” You lick your lips again. “It can cause some nice friction for you, and it makes the reveal a bit nicer.”

He nods and comes back to you on the couch. He looks at you with a cocked head, waiting for instruction. You’re nervous – he hadn’t touched you there yet, so you’re going from second to third base, and you’re doing it with your friend.

“Alright,” you say. “Um – so – you want to start by like, teasing.”

He smirks stupidly. “I don’t think this color of underwear looks good on you.”

“Tease the skin, you moron!”

“I know! Just trying to have some fun, Jesus.”

He scoots himself down, long legs hanging off of the arm rest at the end. It’s probably comical, but the moment his lips start kissing down your torso, you forget the imagery. His lips graze the waistband of your underwear and he stops for a moment before kissing back up.

You sigh a bit. “That’s it, just tease.”

He kisses down over the fabric and your breath hitches. He kisses down your thighs, almost the whole way off the couch. He sighs, irritated, and looks up at you. “Can’t we do this in a bed?”

“No, that’s vanilla,” you explain.

He rolls his eyes. “I am not vanilla.”

“Buddy, if you don’t know what the clit is, you’re definitely vanilla.”

He huffs but you relent. “Alright, we will go to my bedroom. But don’t think this means anything.”

The intimacy of being in your bed does mean something, but you won’t admit it.

When you get to your room, Steve shuts the door before gently pushing you against it, his hands flying over your bare skin. He bites your bottom lip and you gasp, which allows him to snake his tongue inside one more time.

“What are you doing?” you ask against his lips, then add, “I’m not complaining.”

“New room, new moves,” he mumbles, his hands flying up to your breasts. He rolls your nipples in his fingers and you melt into him – this was good.

“As nice as this is,” you say, resting your hands on his chest. “I need to teach you about the clit.”

He nods and you go to your bed, propping yourself up on the pillows. Steve settles between your legs again. You feel embarrassed by how wet you are, but you decide to let him know anyway. “Don’t let this go to your head – you’re really good with your tongue and hands. Can you see how wet I am?”

He looks down at your underwear and groans, nodding enthusiastically. Smirking, he adds, “Is this all from me?”

“I said, don’t let it go to your head,” you respond. You look down at him and bite your lip – Steve thinks it might be the hottest thing he ever saw – his friend, biting her lip, looking down at him with hooded eyes.

“Keep teasing?” he asks.

You sigh and timidly say, “You don’t have to just use lips and fingers, you know.”

He looks up at you in confusion. “You mean – my dick?”

“No.” You shift uncomfortably and finally say, “Your nose.”

“My nose?”

“Yeah, like, you can press it against the fabric –“

Steve tries it before you finish your thought, making you moan. It’s kind of sinful, which makes Steve harden in his boxers even more.

“Like that,” you say, strained. “And when the cloth comes off – you can use it when you – um – eat a girl … out.”

His fingers slip into the band of your underwear. “Can I take them off?”

“Good, you’re asking,” you say. “Yes, you can, and make sure you always ask a girl what she wants.”

He smiles smugly. “What do you want, Y/N?”

You roll your eyes, but the question is undeniably a turn on. “I want you to eat me out.” You pause. “Well, actually, I want you to learn what the fuck a clit is first.”

Steve takes your underwear off and gasps slightly. He has never been face to face with one of these before, and it’s very hot. He stares, mouth agape, and you can’t help but blush.

“Like what you see?” you ask.

“Hell yeah,” he breathes.

There’s an awkward silence where you don’t want to unpack what just happened. Then you clear your throat. “So, um, the clit is like, a nub towards the top.”

Steve nods, fingers going to part your folds, making you shiver.

“A nub?” he clarifies. “Is it this?” His finger brushes over it and you gasp before nodding vigorously.

“Yeah, right there, that,” you stutter. “That little thing is how you make a girl cum.”

Curiously, he presses on it – hard. You jump back and laugh. “For fucks sake, Steve, it’s not a button on a remote. It’s very sensitive, so you have to be gentle.”

“Sorry,” he says quietly, then uses his finger to slowly rub it.

“Circles,” you say, voice straining, and he changes his pace to draw slow circles on it.

You nod. “Yeah, right – oh my god.”

Steve dives in without warning, tongue circling over it gently. He moans into you, hips grinding into your mattress. He thinks you taste good; he thinks you feel good against his tongue. Your hips bucking up into him is a plus, and he wraps his arms around your waist to keep you still.

“G-good,” you stutter. “Good, Steve.”

He’s not completely hopeless – he learned what the clit is and he’s doing a damn good job at giving it attention. Steve inclines his head to go into you deeper, and you gasp at feeling his tongue right at your entrance. Steve’s going crazy over listening to your whines and moans and he goes a bit harder.

“Uh,” you say as he continues, pushing down the moans in your throat. “If a girl is – fuck – about to cum from this – you don’t – shit, Steve – you don’t like – go harder, okay?”

He nods and hums, making your hips buck again. You add, “You can suck on it, too.”

Steve hums again and his soft lips go back up to your clit, wrapping around it and giving it a small suck. A needy whine leaves your lips and he sucks again, tongue lapping as he does it. He thinks it’s cool how it all connects – the clit is like a nipple for the pussy. He wouldn’t say that out loud, of course – he just thinks it’s neat.

“You’re so wet,” he observes. You moan at the observation and hate that you can feel him smile into you. His tongue continues lapping and a sheen of sweat covers your body.

“You can use fingers,” you say. He gingerly adds one, making you gasp then groan. Your hips roll on his finger and he has to stop for a moment to gather himself before he literally creams his pants.

“Are you good?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you breathe, pupils blown. “You’re a quick learner.”

“Keep going?”

“Keep going.”

Steve starts to pump now, going in knuckle deep. His head stays away for a moment, groaning as he looks at your pussy swallow his finger, grinding into the bed again as a strangled moan comes out of him. Then his lips are back on you, sucking and licking as he fucks his finger in and out of you. You’re totally blissed out – if he keeps this up, you’re going to come undone.

“Steve,” you moan. “So good, buddy – add another finger.”

He does as he is told, and you are completely lost in the feeling. Your hand reaches up to play with your nipples and Steve’s eyes almost roll to the back of his head at the sight. He curls his fingers and you cry out. At your encouragement, he continues to stroke, fingers curled and tongue swirling around your clit.

“Talk dirty,” you instruct.

Steve knows he’s good at this; his vernacular is what got him girls in the first place. “Doin’ so good for me, sweetheart, fuck.”

You moan out an “oh”, and Steve thinks it’s maybe the hottest sound ever. “Do you like it when I fuck you with my fingers?”

“Steve,” you gasp, and he grins smugly again. He starts to pick up the pace but then remembers what you said and slows down again.

“I’m close,” you groan.

His pace stutters and his eyes shine. “Are you serious? Are you going to? For real?”

“Yes,” you cry out. “Watch me while I do it, okay?”

Steve attaches his lips to your clit again and you nearly shout. His eyes are on your face the whole time, soaking in how your hands can’t find something to hold on to, eventually settling on his hair. Your fingers lacing in it spurs him on and he curls his fingers just right, tongue lapping gently, and you feel the build in your lower stomach.

“So good, Steve,” you moan. “So good – you’re doing so –“ you choke on a moan. “So great!”

You climax quickly, hips arching off the bed as you do so. Steve tries to hold you down on the bed, but in vain; you’re nearly levitating off of the bed from how good it feels. It’s mind blowing, maybe the best climax you had with a partner. Steve nearly comes from the sight. He has the epiphany that making a girl feel good, seeing her squirm under him, hearing her actually climax – it’s the hottest thing in the world.

Steve pulls his fingers out of you and you twitch from the feeling, panting, wiping sweat off your brow. He sits up and grins cockily at you. But you know he’s close, too, from the large stain on his boxers. It makes your mouth water until you realize there’s probably a stain on the bed, which is exactly why you didn’t invite him up in the first place.  

You can’t help the laugh that slips past your lips, though. “Needy, huh?”

His mouth is on yours in the next instant and you taste yourself on his tongue. You groan into him but push him away slightly. “You do use condoms, right?”

“I already take care of six kids, I’m not trying to become a dad,” he scoffs.

“Condoms are in the nightstand,” you say, head nodding over to the side.

He frowns. “You have condoms?”

You look at him in confusion. “Yeah?”

Steve swallows the jealously he feels, a little saddened at the fact that you’ve had sex more than he has, and with someone else, too. You suddenly jerk and he furrows his brows.

“Aftershocks,” you explain. “My legs are shaking, too.”

“Aftershocks?” he repeats.

You frown. “Have you never had aftershocks?”

Steve shakes his head and you laugh. “I’m about to blow your mind, Steve Harrington.”

That’s all the convincing he needs. He reaches over and grabs the box from your drawer, fumbling with one and rolling it on. You are impressed with his length and width – those weren’t rumors the girls made up, at least. He hisses at the contact of just his own hand, and you realize there’s no way you’re going to cum again tonight. You’re fine with it, but you’re also very excited to see his face when he orgasms within a minute.

Actually, you wish you could bet money on those odds, but Robin’s not here, thank God.

“Are you sure?” he asks. You think it’s sweet that he asks you what you want.

“Put it in me, baby,” you joke, trying to laugh off your nerves.

He takes a deep breath and lines up with you. His eyes meet yours and you nod. He slides in slowly, slowly, and then he bottoms out in you. He gasps slightly and you can see the effort on his face, him trying desperately not to cum. You grind your hips into him, grinning, and he starts to thrust. He reaches you in ways you haven’t felt before, filling you up more than anyone else. It kind of pisses you off, because you never thought Steve Harrington, hopeless fuck, would ever be able to give you such good sex. He rolls his hips back, pulling himself almost completely out before pushing in again. You groan and your stomach flips.

Steve continues for a few thrusts, and you smile wickedly up at him. He falters for a second before you clench your muscles around him – and then he’s coming, hips bucking into yours as he buries his face into your neck. He groans loudly, and it’s actually very hot, and you wish you could hear more of those noises come out of him.

He eventually pulls back and his cheeks are flaming. A look of shame crosses his face and you start to laugh. It’s lighthearted, more with him than at him, and he’s confused before he starts to laugh too. You both laugh until you’re breathless, with him still inside of you, and tears start to run down your cheeks as you struggle to catch your breath.

“Guess I need some work, huh?” he asks once you both calm down. He slips out of you and you groan involuntarily, upset at the loss of contact. He disposes the condom and looks back at you. His breath hitches – you still look beautiful even when you aren’t writhing beneath him, and it takes him aback. But he remembers that you’re his friend and he pulls his eyes away.

“You did good,” you reply. “You did really good. You made a girl come tonight, buddy. You should be proud.”

Steve nods, running a hand through his hair. “That was, um. That was … really hot.”

“Turns out it’s nice to make someone else feel good, huh?”

“Yeah,” he breathes. He goes to grab his boxers but crinkles his nose when he sees the stain on them.

“Gonna have to go commando,” you remark, grabbing a robe and throwing it on. “You’ll be okay, maybe the friction will feel good.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t –“

“I guess you’ll have to come back for another lesson, huh?” you say, smiling. “We should probably perfect the actual sex part and get you some practice.”

Both of your hearts skip a beat at the suggestion, and you pull your eyes away from his, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “You know – if you want.”

“Yes,” he says, a little too quickly. He blushes and looks away. “I mean – yeah, sure. Sounds good.”

“Alright.” You smile at him again. “Now get out of my house.”

===

taglist (join here!):  @harrington-ofhawkins @comedy-witch @harringtonisadingus @sassisaluxury @gothackedalready @willowrose99 @pxtrickhxckstettxr @wolfish-willow @harringtown​ @m-blasterrr​

[et-lesailes]

hot young neighbor

pairing: andy barber x reader

word count: 2233

summary: you’re not expecting such a sexy next door neighbor upon moving into your new home. you already know you want to make a move, but he seems to do it first when he invites you over for dinner.

themes: smut, age gap, oral sex

taglist: @evanstush, @tanyam93, @bval-1, @wonderwinchester, @patzammit, @rohaintahquil, @deidrashouseofpain, @sammyslonglostshoe, @jadedhillon, @bohemian-barbie, @whysparker, @sebastian-i-stan, @sebabestianstan101, @lille-kattunge, @teller258316, @peach-acid, @allsortsofinterests, @xoxabs88xox, @heyiamthatbitch, @cptn-sgrogers, @heyyouwiththeassbutt, @bangtan-serendipity, @troublermalik, @beardburnsupersoldiers, @bookish-shristi, @kind-sober-fullydressed,  @gingerninjaprincess16, @straightforwardly,  @denisemarieangelina,  @frencchfries, @xlanawriter, @littlemoistcarrot, @pottxrwolff, @arianatheangelworld, @ifuseekamyevans, @southerngracela, @nsfwsebbie, @rororo06, @savemesteeb, @raveviolet, @inactivewhore, @hurricanerin, @captainamerica-is-bae, @shaddixlife, @tessa-bl, @marvelouspottering, @pppsssyyyccchhhiiiccc, @thegetawaywriter, @dwights-new-plague, @rynabarnesrogers, @fckdeusername, @doloreschanal, @ssworldofsw

notes: sorry, this was supposed to be posted earlier but my laptop was getting fixed! hope you guys enjoy!

You’re going for a run in your new neighborhood when you see him.

You had just moved in a few days ago, and while you had already gotten to introduce yourselves to a lot of your neighbors, he’s the one you’re most interested in, and haven’t gotten a chance to talk to yet, either. He lives in the house right next door, and you sometimes see him from your window when he’s pulling up in his driveway or on the lawn throwing a football with whom you assume to be his son. You have yet to see a woman around, though, which pleases you.

He’s hot. Sexy, really, you’ve never seen someone as attractive as him. While casually digging for dirt when talking to the other neighbors, you only know his name and his occupation, but nothing about his love life. 

You glance down at yourself, happy that you’ve chosen your cuter workout apparel consisting of a sports bra and matching leggings. Coming to a stop in front of his house, you call out just as he’s about to open his front door, his arm carrying what appears to be takeout. 

“Hey! Sorry to bother ya, I just wanted to introduce myself- I just moved in next door.”

He turns around and although it’s quick, you notice his blue eyes take in your appearance. Your entire appearance. Just what you wanted. A charming but genuine smile crosses his lips, nearly making you swoon. “Oh, hey there! Sorry, I’ve been meaning to come by to say hi. Work’s been crazy this week, though, hence-” he pauses to nod towards the bag, “- Chinese for dinner tonight, no time to cook.” He sets the bag down by the door, though, coming over to you and extending his hand. “I’m Andy.”

Now it’s your turn to eye the perfectly form fitting outfit he’s wearing, that coat, the button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up, the tie, the dress pants. “You must work somewhere fancy, huh?” you tease (even though you already know). Shaking his hand, you reply, “Y/N. Nice to finally meet you!” 

He laughs, and the mere noise in itself is arousing. It’s so warm and deep, you want to hear more of it. “I’m an assistant district attorney. And it’s very nice to meet you, too.” You swear you catch a bit of an emphasis on that “very”, and you smile up at him biting your lip. “I’ll let you get back to dinner, I’m sure your family must be waiting.”

“Actually,” he sighs, looking back towards the door before looking at you, “it’s just me tonight. My son, Jacob- he’s at his mom’s place for the weekend.” He suddenly tilts his head. “Would you wanna join me, actually? I got way too much food, to be honest. Got a little overexcited when I was looking at that menu.”

You can’t believe how lucky you are- sure, you wanted to get to know your incredibly cute neighbor, but you never thought it would happen so fast and so smoothly. “Really? You’re sure? Because that sounds great.” You smile, brushing a strand of your hair behind your ear. “I still have, like, no food at home. I’ll just go take a quick shower first, I’m kinda gross and sweaty right now.” You laugh, and he chuckles too. “Gross? No way. But yeah, sure, come on over whenever you’re ready- I’ll leave the door unlocked.” He gives you a smile and you return it, trying not to look as eager as you are as you turn back to your house to get ready. 

Dinner with Andy is amazing. The two of you sit at his dining table and talk the night away, chatting about everything under the sun. He’s a perfect gentleman, always offering a drink the second yours is finished, urging you to eat more, and not even taking any phone calls while he’s in the middle of conversation with you. After eating, the two of you decide to watch a movie together- it’s Friday night, after all, neither of you have anywhere to be the next morning.

You’re walking to the living room when you notice a family photo on the credenza. “Is this Jacob? And your… ex wife?” you question, picking it up and observing it with interest. “It’s a really cute photo.” He looks over and nods, barely smiling though shrugging slightly. “Yeah. It was taken kinda recently, actually. Laurie and I divorced not too long after…”

“How are you doing with all of that?” you ask softly, coming over to the living room and sitting down on the couch. He aims the remote at the television, currently working on finding the movie you guys had decided on. “Honestly? Fine. Our marriage was a little messy for a while. I think in a way, I was always bracing myself for this to happen.” You listen to him somewhat curious, wondering how on Earth a woman could just let herself lose a man like him. He’s practically sex on legs. 

“So are ya dating again?” you ask playfully, and he glances at you amused. “Hmm. Wouldn’t you like to know,” he replies in jest, and you laugh, nibbling on your lower lip. “I guess you’re not. I doubt a girlfriend would be very happy you invited the new neighbor half your age into your home for dinner alone, hm?” you muse with a smirk, and he scoffs in amusement. “Excuse me? Half my age?” He suddenly pauses and shakes his head playfully. “You know what? Don’t elaborate on that, you’re probably right. But yeah, I’m not seeing anyone right now.” 

“That’s kind of surprising.” You blurt out, unable to help yourself. You’ve always had the tendency to speak your mind. “You’re, like, the most attractive guy I’ve met here.” He blinks in surprise but chuckles lowly, pressing play before coming to sit next to you. “Well. Thank you. And to think my son told me I had to step up my game.” You laugh softly, biting on your lip somewhat mischievously. “Yeah, I think you’re definitely doing just fine…”

He looks down at you, his expression suddenly becoming a little more serious. You’re practically lost in his deep blue eyes, staring back up at him as your heart begins to pound a little. It’s definitely happening. You can feel it. Whether this was always his intention or not, you’re unsure, but you know he wants you just as badly as you want him. 

It all happens so fast. His hands are grabbing your waist and pulling you onto his lap, his lips against yours in a furiously heated kiss, his arms wrapping entirely around you to keep you close to his body. You kiss him back now straddling his lap comfortably, your hands already lunging for the buttons of his shirt to push it off. His grunts of arousal are turning you on more and more, showcasing his absolute need and hunger; it’s clear he's been deprived ever since his divorce, and you’re more than happy to give him what he’s been ravenous for. You let him pull your top off, adjusting yourself so you can remove your shorts. He pulls back and stares at your half naked body, already panting. 

“Fuck. I forgot how sexy girls your age are,” he mumbles as his eyes rake over your figure, hands running up your waist to squeeze your breasts through your bra before traveling down to dig his fingers into your ass. “So damn tight and perky in all the right places…” You giggle breathlessly, unbuckling his belt as you lick your lips. “I think you’ll find I have a lot more… enthusiasm, too.” 

You slowly slide off him, getting down onto your knees in between his legs. He looks shocked but pleasantly surprised when you push down his pants and briefs, his teeth digging into his lower lip in anticipation when you curl your fingers around his thick length. You can’t help but stare a little, somewhat intimidated by his shaft though excited at the same time. Looking up at his expression, you barely smirk. “What’s wrong, Andy? Your ex-wife didn’t like to get down on her knees for you?” You use your other hand to rub his thigh slowly as if to comfort him, leaning down to give his tip little kitten licks. “Mm… because I’d do it for ya anytime…”

He lets out a groan, bucking his hips already in greed. “Fuck, don’t tease, Y/N. You did enough of that today standing outside my house in that tiny little bra and those tight pants.” He mutters through clenched teeth, and you blink before giggling lightly, pumping his base. “Oh? You were checking me out even then, huh?” 

“Of course I was… who wouldn’t be?” he growls, suddenly reaching out and grabbing a fistful of your hair, jerking your head forward. “Suck my damn dick already, honey, I want to fuck the back of your goddamn throat…” 

You gasp slightly but feel the wetness pool between your legs upon the pet name and dirty talk, immediately leaning forward to wrap your lips around him. You’ve never wanted to please someone so bad. He’s older, much older, and all you want to do is impress him. You bob your head up and down as your tongue swirls around his length, enjoying the sounds of his pleasured grunts and groans, looking up to see his eyes practically half shut. “Shit. You’re doing so good, honey, so… fucking good.” He hisses, clenching your hair tighter as he bucks his hips upwards. “Keep going, just like that…”

You feel his cock hitting the back of your throat, your coughs muffled from how full your mouth is. You don’t want to stop, though. You want to do everything you can to please him, to show him just what a good neighbor you are. You keep sucking, peering up at him through hooded eyes, moving your tongue skillfully to draw him closer to his edge. “Oh… oh, fuck…!” he growls, his grip on your hair tightening. “Oh, baby, I’m gonna cum…”

He releases down your throat, his shoulders finally dropping as he releases his hold on your hair. You hum happily as you swallow his load, gasping for air immediately after, your chest heaving up and down. He scoffs in awe as he stares down at you, nibbling on his lip hungrily. “You look so good taking my cock like that, honey. But I want to taste you now.” 

You squeak in surprise when he hoists you up, carrying you upstairs and to his bedroom with ease. You don’t even have time to look around before he tosses you down onto the bed on your back, crawling over and leaning down to leave a trail of kisses all the way from your collarbone, over the tops of your breasts, down your stomach and to the hem of your panties. He playfully bites on the lace to lower them down, making you giggle breathlessly. He stares at your soaked pussy, his blue eyes practically a shade darker from lust. “Look at you. All pretty and wet just for me,” he murmurs, voice dripping with fervor. “Taste me,” you whine, shivering slightly from the cool air now upon your entrance, arching your back desperately. “Please, Andy, I want you to tongue fuck me so bad.” 

He groans just from hearing you. “What a naughty girl. I can’t believe how lucky I am you moved in right next door.” He smirks and leans in, swiping his tongue across your dripping folds. You whine slowly as your eyes flutter shut, fingers grasping the bedsheets. “Mm… something tells me I’ll be here just as much as… at my house…”

“I think so too.” His voice is low and husky, his sharp features displaying nothing but carnal hunger. He nibbles teasingly around the edges of your entrance before pushing his tongue inside, hands gripping your thighs to keep your legs spread apart. Plunging in and out, spitting once to create more wetness and saliva, his tongue travels all over and laps up everything it can get. He’s grunting to himself in enjoyment, his lips even finding your clit as he sucks on it carefully but excitedly, his fingers wrapping behind to squeeze your ass. You can’t help but moan loudly, your breaths airy and uneven, the occasional gasp coming out accompanied by pitchy and pleasured hums. “Andy…!”

“Mm… mmm…. so good…” he mumbles to himself in between, his tongue working your clit and wet core expertly and sending you closer and closer over the edge. “Oh! Ooh… I’m… I’m close…!” 

You finally release and he happily cleans you all up, exhaling deeply as a satisfied smirk crosses his lips. He pulls back only to come lay next to you, his bare chest moving up and down with his irregular breaths and his fluffy brown hair now slightly tousled from his head in between your thighs. You look up at him with an amused and breathless smile, raising an eyebrow playfully innocent as you whisper, “Did I taste good…?”

“Incredibly.” He answers with a low scoff, suddenly rolling over to face you and throwing his arm around you. “You make the perfect dessert. And I think I’m going to want you every night.”

“Well, it’s a good thing I’m right next door…”