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#Leather Laptop Shoulder Bag
bestjournalcovers · 5 months
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Unveiling the Essence of Style: Leather Messenger Bag For Men
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Introduction
Welcome to the epitome of sophistication and functionality - the leather messenger bag for men. In the realm of accessories, few items exude the same level of timeless elegance and practicality as this quintessential piece. Join us as we delve into the intricacies of this must-have accessory for the modern gentleman.
The Charm of Leather
Craftsmanship Redefined
Crafted from the finest leather materials, messenger bags for men are a testament to unparalleled craftsmanship. Each stitch is meticulously placed, ensuring not only durability but also a touch of artisanal finesse. Unlike synthetic alternatives, genuine leather messenger bags age gracefully, developing a rich patina that tells the story of its wearer's journey.
Timeless Appeal
In a world dominated by fleeting trends, leather messenger bags stand as timeless classics that defy the passage of time. Their classic silhouette and understated elegance make them a versatile accessory that seamlessly complements any attire. Whether paired with a tailored suit or casual jeans, a leather messenger bag for men adds a touch of refinement to every ensemble.
Versatility Personified
From Boardroom to Bar
One of the defining features of leather messenger bags for men is their ability to transition effortlessly from professional settings to casual outings. Equipped with ample storage space and organizational pockets, these bags are designed to accommodate the needs of the modern man on the go. Whether you're heading to a business meeting or meeting friends for drinks, a leather messenger bag ensures you do so in style.
Tech-Savvy Companion
In an increasingly digital world, messenger bags for men have evolved to cater to the needs of the tech-savvy individual. With dedicated compartments for laptops, tablets, and other gadgets, these bags offer both protection and convenience for your electronic essentials. Say goodbye to bulky laptop bags and hello to streamlined sophistication with a leather messenger bag.
The Sustainability Factor
Eco-Friendly Choice
Concerns about environmental sustainability have prompted many to seek out eco-friendly alternatives, and leather messenger bags fit the bill perfectly. Sourced from responsibly managed farms and tanneries, ethically sourced leather minimizes environmental impact while supporting local communities. By opting for a leather messenger bag for men, you're not just making a fashion statement; you're also making a conscious choice to prioritize sustainability.
Longevity Guaranteed
Unlike mass-produced accessories that quickly wear out, leather messenger bags are built to last a lifetime. Their inherent durability reduces the need for frequent replacements, contributing to a more sustainable consumption model. With proper care and maintenance, a leather messenger bag becomes a cherished companion, growing more beautiful with age and embodying a legacy of quality and longevity.
Conclusion
In conclusion, the leather messenger bag for men is more than just an accessory; it's a symbol of timeless elegance, versatility, and sustainability. Whether you're a professional navigating the corporate landscape or an urban adventurer exploring the city streets, this iconic accessory serves as the perfect blend of style and functionality. Elevate your everyday look and make a lasting impression with a leather messenger bag that speaks volumes about your discerning taste and refined sensibilities.
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Elevating Style: The Timeless Appeal of Leather Messenger Bags for Men
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Introduction:
In the realm of men's fashion, certain accessories stand out for their ability to effortlessly blend style and practicality. Among these, the leather messenger bag for men has emerged as a timeless classic that transcends fleeting trends. But is a messenger bag stylish? In this article, we explore the enduring allure of leather messenger bags and why they remain a stylish choice for men seeking sophistication and functionality in their accessories.
Icon of Timeless Elegance: Leather messenger bags are synonymous with timeless elegance, boasting a classic design that exudes sophistication and refinement. Crafted from premium quality leather, these bags acquire a rich patina over time, enhancing their character and charm with each passing year. Unlike trendy accessories that may lose their appeal after a season or two, leather messenger bags age gracefully, becoming cherished companions that tell a story of enduring style.
Versatility in Design: One of the key reasons why leather messenger bags are considered stylish is their versatility in design. From sleek and minimalist designs to more rugged and distressed finishes, there is a leather messenger bag to suit every taste and preference. Whether you prefer a classic briefcase-style messenger bag or a modern crossbody design, the wide range of options ensures that you can find the perfect leather messenger bag to complement your individual style.
Practicality Meets Sophistication: Beyond their aesthetic appeal, leather messenger bags offer practicality and functionality that elevate their status as stylish accessories. With multiple compartments and pockets, they provide ample storage space for essentials such as laptops, tablets, documents, and personal belongings. The adjustable shoulder strap ensures comfort during daily commutes or travel, making leather messenger bags a practical yet sophisticated choice for men on the go.
Complementing Every Ensemble: One of the hallmarks of a truly stylish accessory is its ability to enhance any ensemble, and leather messenger bags excel in this regard. Whether paired with a tailored suit for a business meeting or worn with jeans and a t-shirt for a casual outing, a well-crafted leather messenger bag adds a touch of class to any outfit. Its versatility allows it to seamlessly transition between different settings, making it a versatile accessory for every occasion.
Conclusion:
In conclusion, the question of whether a messenger bag is stylish can be unequivocally answered in the affirmative. Leather messenger bag for men epitomize timeless elegance, versatility, and practicality, making them a stylish choice for discerning gentlemen. With their classic design, enduring quality, and ability to complement any ensemble, leather messenger bags continue to be a staple accessory that adds a touch of sophistication to every look. So, if you're considering investing in a leather messenger bag, rest assured that you're making a stylish and timeless choice that will stand the test of time.
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Exploring the Demographics of Messenger Bag Wearers: A Focus on Mens Leather Messenger Bags
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Mens leather messenger bags have long been a staple accessory in the world of fashion, embraced by a diverse range of individuals for their practicality, style, and versatility. However, when it comes to understanding who wears messenger bags, particularly mens leather messenger bags, several key demographics emerge. Let's take a closer look at the individuals who gravitate towards these iconic accessories and why they continue to be a popular choice.
Professionals On-the-Go
One of the primary demographics of mens leather messenger bag wearers comprises professionals who lead busy lifestyles and require a practical yet stylish way to carry their essentials. From corporate executives to creative professionals, men's leather messenger bags offer a sophisticated solution for transporting laptops, documents, and other work-related items while maintaining a polished appearance.
Students and Educators
Another demographic that frequently opts for leather messenger bags is students and educators. With the need to carry textbooks, notebooks, and electronic devices to and from school or university, a durable and spacious leather laptop bag is essential. Mens leather messenger bags provide ample storage space and a timeless aesthetic that appeals to students and educators alike.
Urban Commuters
In urban environments where public transportation and walking are the primary modes of transportation, leather messenger bags for men reign supreme. Urban commuters, including city dwellers and professionals who navigate bustling streets daily, appreciate the hands-free convenience and comfort offered by leather messenger bags. The crossbody design distributes weight evenly, making it an ideal choice for those constantly on the move.
Fashion-Conscious Individuals
Beyond practical considerations, many individuals are drawn to men's leather messenger bags for their inherent style and sophistication. Fashion-conscious individuals who prioritize aesthetics seek out leather messenger bags men as a way to elevate their outfits while making a subtle yet impactful statement. The timeless elegance of leather adds a touch of luxury to any ensemble, making it a favorite among those with discerning tastes.
Outdoor Enthusiasts
While Rustic town leather messenger bags are often associated with urban settings, they also appeal to outdoor enthusiasts who appreciate their rugged durability and functionality. Whether embarking on a day hike, camping trip, or outdoor adventure, men's leather messenger bags offer a reliable way to carry essentials such as water bottles, snacks, and maps while blending seamlessly with nature.
Conclusion
In conclusion, the demographics of Rustic towln leather messenger bag wearers are diverse and varied, reflecting the broad appeal of these iconic accessories. From professionals and students to urban commuters and fashion enthusiasts, men's leather messenger bags cater to a wide range of individuals with different lifestyles, preferences, and needs. Whether for work, school, travel, or everyday use, messenger bags remain a timeless and versatile accessory that continues to captivate wearers around the world.
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leathermessengerbags · 5 months
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Mastering Style and Function: A Guide to Wearing a Messenger Bag with Panache
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In the realm of fashion and functionality, few accessories strike the perfect balance quite like the messenger bag. But while its practicality is undeniable, mastering the art of wearing a leather messenger bag with style requires a touch of finesse. Fear not, for we're here to guide you through the ins and outs of rocking this iconic accessory like a true fashionista or fashionisto.
Embrace the Cross-Body Chic
The quintessential way to wear a messenger bag is across the body, with the strap slung diagonally from one shoulder to the opposite hip. This not only distributes weight evenly but also adds a dash of urban-cool to your ensemble. Adjust the strap to ensure the bag sits comfortably at your hip, allowing easy access to your belongings without compromising on style.
Mix and Match Materials
When it comes to leather messenger bags, variety is the spice of life. Experiment with different materials and textures to elevate your look and add visual interest. Classic canvas exudes a casual vibe perfect for everyday wear, while leather lends a touch of sophistication that effortlessly transitions from day to night.
Size Matters
Consider the size of your mens leather messenger bag in relation to your body and the occasion. Opt for a larger bag with ample storage space for daily essentials like laptops, tablets, and notebooks, ideal for work or school. For a more streamlined look, choose a smaller bag that holds just the essentials for a night out or weekend adventure.
Coordinate with Your Outfit
Coordinate your leather messenger bag for men with your outfit to create a cohesive and polished look. For a casual daytime ensemble, pair a canvas messenger bag with jeans and a T-shirt for laid-back charm. Elevate your office attire with a sleek leather computer bag that complements your professional style. Don't be afraid to play with colors and patterns to add personality to your outfit.
Experiment with Styling
Get creative with how you wear your brown leather crossbody bag to suit your personal style and mood. Wear it messenger-style across the body for a classic look, or sling it over one shoulder for a more relaxed vibe. For a fashion-forward twist, try wearing it on the back like a backpack or carry it by the top handle for a chic handbag alternative.
Own Your Look with Confidence
Above all, wear your leather shoulder bag with confidence and swagger. No matter how stylish your outfit or accessory may be, confidence is the key to pulling off any look with panache. Rock your leather laptop bag with pride, and let your individuality shine through.
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creativeartandcraft · 5 months
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Handbag Cowhide Hair-On Tote Bag Shoulder Bag 
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mensmessengerbag · 1 year
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The Essential Accessory: Men's Messenger Bags
A Rustic Town mens messenger bag is more than just a functional accessory; it's a style statement that seamlessly merges form and function. This versatile bag has stood the test of time, making it a favored choice for men of all ages and professions. In this article, we'll delve into the enduring charm and versatility of men's messenger bags, helping you understand why they are a must-have addition to any wardrobe.
Timeless Elegance: The defining feature of a men's messenger bag is its classic and sophisticated design. Crafted from high-quality materials, it exudes an air of timeless elegance that complements various outfits and occasions. Whether you're heading to the office or a casual outing, this accessory elevates your style effortlessly.
Ultimate Functionality: Beyond its aesthetic charm, a men's messenger bag is highly functional. Multiple compartments and pockets offer efficient organization for your essentials, such as laptops, documents, and personal items. The adjustable shoulder strap ensures comfort during daily commutes.
Variety of Styles: The world of men's messenger bags offers a range of styles to cater to different tastes. From classic flap designs to sleek and modern aesthetics, there's a bag to match every preference. Vintage-inspired options add a touch of nostalgia, while contemporary designs cater to the fashion-forward.
Durability and Longevity: Men's messenger bags are celebrated for their durability. The premium materials, when properly cared for, not only withstand the rigors of daily use but also develop character over time. It's an investment that not only lasts but gets better with age.
Choosing Your Perfect Bag: When selecting a men's messenger bag, consider factors such as size, material, and style. Determine the bag's intended use, whether for work, travel, or casual outings. Ensure it complements your style and offers the storage capacity you require.
In conclusion, a mens messenger bag is a testament to timeless elegance and practicality. It enhances your style, protects your valuable items, and keeps you organized during your daily endeavors. Elevate your everyday look with the perfect men's messenger bag, a reflection of your unique style and a companion that stands the test of time with Rustic town leather products.
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Leather and Fabric bag ,leather handbag,leather tote bag,specialr bag,laptop Bag women
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oglobalmart · 1 year
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desire4leather · 2 years
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Best women's leather bags
Find the best women's leather bags that are the perfect bag for all your daily adventures. These versatile, durable & best women's leather bags feature a zippered closure on the top and two slip pockets on the front for carrying small essentials. The perfect bag for the fashionable and confident woman who needs a place to keep her essentials organized. Keep your things organized and secure with this premium women's leather bag.
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harryslittlefreakk · 8 months
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my policeman
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Summary: Harry is the police officer assigned to your case, though you are inexplicably drawn to one another 🤭 this will be the first instalment of a new series (if you guys like it lol)
Warnings: age gap romance, Harry is approx mid 40s and MC is early-mid 20s 🥰 smut!!
A/n: I hope you enjoy!! I really like this idea & the storyline so far for these two
You can join my taglist here! And my masterlist is here!! Happy reading 🫶🏼
“I need to speak to someone please, I’ve been mugged.”
You were panting, having run the ten minute journey to the police station from the bus stop. Someone had snatched the bulky work bag from your shoulder as you walked, then fled down a side street before you’d even had time to comprehend what had happened. Your natural instincts were to just run, and that’s exactly what you did. You ran until you stumbled through the police station doors, your heart still pounding with adrenaline.
“Styles!” the man behind the desk called out, an outstretched arm directing you to a closed door. You shuffled over, legs jelly after your spontaneous sprint. You weren’t sure whether to go through the doors or wait there, and the officer behind the desk had his back to you. But as you shifted awkwardly, the doors swung open, revealing possibly the hottest police officer you’d ever seen. He was old, older than you’d usually be interested in, but there was something about him. He was stocky and toned, grey streaks peppered through his deep brown curls. He smiled at you and extended his hand. "Officer Styles, but you can call me Harry.” Officer Harry Styles, the world’s sexiest police officer. You followed him down the corridor, into a tiny room with only a desk, a chair and a small sofa. It was cold and clinical, four grey walls lit by the same sort of lights you’d find in hospitals. It made you uneasy, but Harry’s eyes were laced with warmth as he looked over at you. "First of all, are you okay?" he asked, his voice gentle.
You whispered a quiet “yes”, your response barely audible, but Harry caught it. You felt vulnerable now, having been too close to danger and not realising it at the time. You’d lived in London for years, heard so many tales of rape and mugging but never experienced it yourself, or had it happen to someone close to you. You were lucky to only have your work bag taken and be left otherwise untouched, but you couldn’t help feeling shaken by the encounter. “I was mugged,” you told Harry.
“Did they hurt you?”
“No. Just took my bag.”
“M’sorry that happened to you,” he said. There was a slight northern twang to his voice, the kind that suggested he’d been in London long enough to start losing it, but been in the North long enough for the accent to be stubborn. “Did you get a look at them?” he asked, tapping his pen against the sheet of paper in front of him.
“No, they were already running before I turned around.”
“Where did it happen?”
“The bus stop near Florence Gardens, going towards the station.”
“What did they take? Any valuables?”
“My work laptop. And my lunchbox,” you told him, corners of your mouth turning up slightly at the thought of the thief finding your leftover pasta. “They were in my rucksack, I had my phone and keys in my pocket.”
“What does the bag look like?”
“Black, it’s leather. I can show you?”
You pulled up a picture on your phone and handed it to Harry, watching as he wrote down the details.
“Alright, give me 10 minutes to file this, okay? You’ll be okay waiting here?” He handed the phone back to you and stood up as you nodded, then strode toward the door, the glinting badge on his chest catching the light. You’d never had to deal with the police before, and always been a little bit scared of authority figures. But Harry was warm, he made you feel safe despite the circumstances that had brought you to the police station.
It wasn’t long before Harry was back, a thick puffer jacket now covering his torso and a huge tote bag slung over his shoulder. He reached out and gently placed a comforting hand on the back of your seat. “Come on, my shifts over so I’ll walk you home.” You smiled as you followed him out of the room, grateful beyond words for his company.
“Do you not have worse crimes to solve than my stolen lunchbox?” you asked him as you walked, somehow comfortable in his presence. “Not anymore,” he told you. “Been in the police for 25 years now. Did a lot of that but wanted to settle down the last few years, s’better for me like this.”
“Guess it’s nicer for your wife that you’re not out chasing murderers,” you quipped, earning a chuckle from Harry. "Yeah, m’sure she’d appreciate it if she hadn’t divorced me already," he said with a small smile. “I’m sorry,” you told him, glancing over to try to read his face. Truthfully, you were excited by the idea of him being divorced. It didn’t mean he was single, and it definitely didn’t mean he’d be into you, but it was one less hurdle in your mind. "It's alright," he said. "Sometimes things jus’ don't work out, you know?”
“Mm, I know. My flat’s just down here,” you pointed the way to Harry. He walked you all the way to the doorstep, staring up at the building. “It’s not the best area,” he told you. "Be safe, okay? If you need anything, or remember anything, don't hesitate to call," Harry told you, a touch of protectiveness in his tone as he took out his phone. He sent a text to your number so you could save his, then watched as you opened the front door. “Thank you Harry, for everything,” you smiled. “I’m only a call away,” he said, rubbing a hand on your forearm.
Jesus Christ. You collapsed against your front door as you got inside, heart racing from just a gentle touch. You’d get mugged every day if it gave you the chance to be around Harry more. The thought of seeing him again made your head pound, the fear and violation you felt earlier in the evening long forgotten.
Maybe it was a reaction to the weirdness of your evening, maybe it was a way to work through all the emotions you were feeling, but you found yourself reaching for your vibrator as you stepped out of your work clothes. Harry was all you could think about, his hands trailing down your body, his fingers pinching at your nipple, his mouth pressing hot kisses across your abdomen. You could almost feel him hovering over you, so close and yet not close at all. He would be authoritative, demanding you press the vibrator to your clit, his fingers beginning to pump inside of you as you writhed on the bed.
You were moaning into the ghost of his mouth, his nose brushing against yours as your core tightened, a rush of emotions filling you to the brim. It was too much, your toy working at your clit with the idea of Harry’s ringed fingers pounding at your pussy, your free hand gripping onto his loose curls. You were coming faster than you ever had, hips bucking as you screamed out his name.
It was borderline insane. Coming so fast and so heavily for a man you barely knew, crying out his name as if he were here, riding you through your high. You felt almost dirty as you chucked your vibrator to the side, too mentally preoccupied to even shower or eat before climbing into bed. You just wanted to dream of Harry, try to work through your delusions before you had to see him again.
Your thoughts of Harry came and went over the next few days. Your manager had suggested you work from home for a few days, your only route home from the office marred by your mugging. The four walls of your apartment felt too small, too closed in even before you had an imaginary Harry following you around. You’d tried to push him out of your mind, desperate to avoid a crush on a man you hardly knew. You did this all the time, it was a symptom of being chronically single. As soon as a man showed kindness towards you, you fell in love. Harbouring a crush on the police officer working on your case was bad news, and yet as you thought about him, his name flashed up on your phone.
“Hey, y/n. How are you?”
“I’m okay, you?”
“Better for hearing your voice.” You could almost hear the smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth. “Listen, do you have time to swing by? Wanted to update you on a few things.”
“I can come now?” you offered. Working from home was slow, and you’d already completed your tasks for the day. So how could you wait any longer to see Harry again?
You looked over yourself in the mirror as you put the phone down, tightening your ponytail and smoothing a hand down the front of your top.
Harry was waiting in the reception area when you arrived at the police station, a big beaming grin sitting pretty between his dimpled cheeks when he saw you. Truthfully, he could have spoken to you over the phone, but he wanted an excuse to see you again. It was silly, childlike even, the way he’d racked his brain for reasons to call or message since he’d dropped you off at home a few days ago. He felt ridiculous, far too giddy over a girl far too young for him, but he couldn’t get you off his mind.
“We think we’ve located your bag,” Harry told you as he ushered you into the same room as before. “Really?” you squeaked. “It’s not 100% yet, but we have had a few more reports of thefts in the area. We’ve tracked down an address, and we’ll be going in this week.”
“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” you grinned, throwing your arms around him before your brain could stop you. Harry chuckled, wrapping a strong arm around your shoulders. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, before freezing. You’d both suddenly remembered where you were, who you were, and yet neither of you wanted to step away.
Harry gently squeezed you before saying, "It's all part of the job,” a small smile on his lips. There was something unspoken in the air as you stepped back, your gaze meeting his. “Sorry,” you muttered. His eyes were soft as he looked at you, reaching out to gently tuck a loose strand of your hair behind your ear.
“You don’t have to apologise,” Harry told you, his lingering touch burning against your skin. You stared at each other wordlessly for a moment, tension heavy in the air, until a familiar call of Harry’s name broke the spell. You stepped further away from him, glancing down at the floor as the professional mask settled back into place on Harry’s face. “Thank you, Harry. I’ll see you later,” you smiled, turning your back on him.
You needed to distract yourself, arranging a last minute girls night to take your mind off of Harry. And yet, it was as if the universe was playing a cruel joke on you. The man you were specifically going out to forget was standing on the doorstep of your apartment building, hand poised to buzz your intercom as you opened the door. “Harry-” you started, unable to find any other, better words.
“Come to dinner with me,” he said, gaze trailing up and down your body. You were wearing your ‘good’ jeans, the ones that sucked you in in all the right places yet showcased your curves in all the best ones. You had more makeup on than he’d seen you in before, though your freckles and beauty spots still peeked through. The oversized leather jacket slung over your shoulders obscured the top half of your body, but Harry didn’t need to see any more to know just how good you looked. “Please,” he added, holding up a single red rose.
“Dinner with you,” you repeated, a little stunned by his offer. “Dinner.. with me. Should we say it once more for good luck?” Harry laughed. “Maybe once more,” you smiled, pulling your phone from your back pocket. need to cancel, something came up x you sent quickly to your best friends. “Where are we going?” you asked Harry, eyes locking back onto him as he walked back down the path. “In first, questions later,” he told you, unlocking his car and opening the passenger side door for you.
“You’re acting very murdery for a man of the law,” you laughed, sliding onto the seat. “It was a test, and you failed. Should never get in a strange man’s car,” he joked.
The drive was mostly silent, except for the rhythm of Harry’s fingers tapping against the steering wheel. You were suddenly nervous, mouth dry and heart pounding as you watched the city become a blur. The sun was starting to set overhead as you drove further from home, street lamps and homes beginning to light up around you. Harry glanced over at you, brows furrowed as he tried to read the emotion etched onto your face. “You okay?” he asked, resting a strong hand on your knee.
“Shy,” you smiled weakly. It had only just hit you that you didn’t know Harry at all, couldn’t even think of anything to say to cut through the silence. You wanted the evening to go well, wanted to explore the connection you felt with him. But if you stammered and stuttered all night long, you’d have to go into hiding before a future with Harry even became a possibility.
You watched him as he drove, brows knitted in concentration as he navigated the busy streets. You hadn’t even paid attention to what he was wearing before, and as your eyes wandered over his body, your jaw went slack.
Harry wore a loose white dress shirt that although slightly oversized, seemed to fit him perfectly. He’d left the top few buttons open, allowing glimpses of his toned physique. As he moved his hands around the steering wheel, the material of the shirt shifted, revealing intricate tattoos that adorned his arms and chest. You’d seen a couple on his arms, but the amount that littered the tanned skin of his torso made your heart race. With each tiny movement, his tattoos peeked through the fabric, muscles flexing underneath the inked skin. He was handsome in a way that was new to you, rugged and yet soft.
There was something about his age that drew you to him, his years on you more a challenge than anything. He clearly knew how to act and had no problems going after what he wanted, a world away from the men you knew who were all still stuck in their fratboy mindsets.
“We’re here,” Harry said, resting a gentle hand over yours to pull you from your daydream. He’d pulled up in front of a quaint pub. The bold blue exterior was littered with bright flowers in hanging baskets and window boxes. A crowd of merry customers had spilled out onto the pavement outside, the warm glow from the pub washing over them. “This is so cute,” you told Harry, following him through the open door. “Officer Styles!” a man called out from across the bar. Harry greeted him with a firm handshake, turning his ear to the man’s mouth to hear him over the music. It wasn’t long before he turned back to you, grabbing a hold of your hand to lead you up the stairs. “I did some work for the owner,” he told you, pulling open another door. “Don’t live far from here so I come often now. Good food and good views,” he smirked, stepping out of the way to reveal the scene set up for you.
The balcony was slim, only just wide enough to fit two small tables. One was set up for dining, a bottle of red perched among ice in the middle. The other was covered in candles, wax dripping around a beautiful bouquet in the centre. It was secluded and romantic, the dream setting for your first date with what could be your dream man.
You talked and laughed for what felt like forever, voice hoarse from giggling at Harry’s jokes. The sharing plates he’d ordered sat cold and forgotten in front of you both, almost empty glasses stained pink from the wine.
A hint of a smirk played on Harry's lips as his eyes trailed over yours. “Quickfire round, since I have a feeling you won’t let me kiss you until we know each other better. Family?”
“My brother’s younger, he’s in uni. Parents live by the coast,” you told him, heat rising through your core at the very idea of kissing him.
“My mum lives up north, got an older sister too. Hobbies?”
“I like painting. Don’t do it as much anymore but..” you let your voice trail off.
“But you’re going to paint me?” Harry grinned, turning his back to you and peering seductively over his shoulder. “Draw me like one of your French girls,” he drawled, a mocking glint in his eyes.
“Nuh uh. Got to answer or you’ll never get that kiss.”
“I don’t have hobbies. I like working out and like puzzles,” Harry shrugged.
“Typical old man hobby,” you laughed. Harry chuckled and shook his head. "Well, maybe I am an old soul trapped in a sexy young body," he replied with a playful grin. "Can't complain about that, right?"
You nodded, still amused by his choice of hobbies. "You’re right, I can’t.”
As your conversation continued, you and Harry discovered more and more about each other. Your dreams, fears, and your favourite childhood memories. You laughed and shared stories, the connection between you growing stronger with each passing moment.
“M’not ready to let you go yet,” Harry smiled, looking out over the river. It was almost totally dark now, the last rays of evening sunshine nearly vanished behind the horizon. You smiled back at Harry. “"I'm not ready to go either," you admitted, rolling your bottom lip into your mouth as you looked over him, taking in the beauty of the scene. He was the definition of a silver fox. You’d noticed heads turning as you left the pub, young (and older) women captivated by just a glance of Harry. Being the girl on his arm felt good, even if it was just for the evening.
“Let’s walk,” Harry told you, his fingers intertwining with yours. You strolled down the riverside hand in hand, chatting mindlessly. Harry shared stories of his childhood, his years working for a local bakery before he moved to London and joined the Met.
You felt so much comfort and warmth as you listened to Harry. His stories painted vivid pictures in your mind, a glimpse into his past giving you some understanding of the person he was. As the two of you continued walking, the sound of the flowing river created a soothing backdrop to your conversation. The setting sun was casting a golden glow over your surroundings, and you couldn't help but feel a growing connection with Harry. It was as if time stood still, and the world around you faded away, leaving only the two of you in that moment.
You found yourself opening up to Harry, sharing your own stories. He listened attentively, his eyes filled with genuine interest and understanding. It was refreshing to be with someone who truly cared about getting to know you on a deeper level.
As the evening progressed, the conversation shifted towards more lighthearted topics. Laughter filled the air as Harry recounted some of the funnier people he’d encountered during his career. His animated gestures and contagious laughter made it impossible for you not to join in. There was a boyish charm behind his manly facade, and the more time you spent with Harry, the more you realized how effortlessly he made you feel at ease. There was a natural chemistry between you, a connection that went beyond words. It was a feeling of familiarity, as if you had known each other for years.
As darkness began to envelop you, Harry gently squeezed your hand, bringing your attention back to the present moment. You both paused, eyes trailing over the other’s features under the moonlight. Harry tugged on your arm quickly, pulling you towards the wall. Your heart quickened as his gaze fell to your parted lips, his body gently pressing your back into the brick. The light cast a soft glow on his face, lust etched into every line on his face.
You felt as if you were floating somewhere outside your body as Harry leaned in, his warm breath mingling with yours. His lips brushed against your own, gentle yet filled with an insatiable longing.
You responded eagerly, your hands instinctively finding their way to his waist. The kiss deepened, becoming a dance of lust and unspoken desires. Harry's lips moved against yours with a hunger that matched your own, his hands roaming your body. It had been a long time since a kiss had ignited a fire within your core, and yet you were burning brighter with every touch.
The taste of him was intoxicating, warm wine, sweetness and desire on his tongue leaving you breathless. He pressed you further into the wall, your bodies molding together perfectly as if they were made to be intertwined.
It had started to rain at some point, though you were too consumed by the raw passion that existed between you to notice the soft raindrops running down your skin. All you could focus on was Harry’s tongue licking into your mouth, a silent promise of the yearning and desire that he felt for you.
He pulled your bottom lip into his mouth before you both pulled away, breathless and panting. The world slowly came back into focus, but the sight of Harry before you nearly made your heart stop. The rain had soaked through his shirt, the thin material now translucent and dipping and weaving over his toned abdomen. His curls were slick against his forehead, raindrops lingering on the end of his eyelashes. His jaw was tense as he looked over your face, one hand gently grazing your waist. He was mesmerising, powerful and yet vulnerable as he stood soaked through in front of you.
You reached out with a gentle hand, pushing the wet curls from his face. But just as your swollen lips parted to speak, the heavens opened above you. It was as if someone had thrown a bucket of water over you and Harry, raindrops pelting you from every angle. You looked at each other in shock, a laugh tumbling past your lips.
Harry grabbed a hold of your hand and ran, the sound of your footsteps slapping against puddles breaking the silence of the now empty streets. You were barely able to hold yourself upright from laughter, falling into Harry’s body as your legs carried you closer to the car. His grip tightened on your wrist, guiding you through the dark paths.
As you reached the car, Harry fumbled with the keys, his hands shaking from the sudden cold. You stood beside him, shivers of adrenaline running through you. The rain smacked against the roof of the car as Harry unlocked it, pulling open the door for you. Even in the pouring rain, he was still a gentleman. You slid in quickly, the sudden warmth fogging up the windows.
You sat in silence for a moment, eyes trailing over each other as you caught your breath. A smile played on Harry’s lips as he looked at you, his hand coming up to brush your sodden hair from your face.
There was no way you could sleep. You’d been tossing and turning for at least an hour, the ache in your core too much to sleep on. All you could do was replay the evening in your mind, wondering exactly how you ended up alone in Harry’s bed.
“Here,” Harry handed you one of his T-shirts and some pyjama bottoms. “Shower’s through there, get yourself warmed up.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead as you headed into the bathroom, a tiny sigh of disappointment slipping past your lips. You were desperate for him to join you in the shower, craving more of his touch. A night of stolen glances and gentle touches had you burning up even before the kiss, but after seeing what Harry’s mouth was capable of, you were dying for more of him.
As the water washed over you, all you could think about was Harry’s lips on yours. The hunger in his eyes before he kissed you, the taste of red wine on his tongue.
“Would you not get in trouble for this?” you asked Harry, hands wrapped tightly around the hot chocolate he’d handed you. “Maybe. But once we have your stuff back, the case is over. They can’t say anything then,” he shrugged, turning to lean against the kitchen counter. He got more handsome every time you looked at him, as if that were even possible. Now, standing there with his old man plaid pyjama pants and a T-shirt tight against his muscular frame, you were left pressing your thighs together to keep the heat in. The anticipation was almost too much to bear, adrenaline coursing through your veins.
“Can’t sleep either, huh?” Harry smiled from the sofa. You almost jumped out of your skin at his voice, having tried your hardest to creep silently into the kitchen. He looked adorable, tucked under a thick blanket with his long legs squashed up at the end of the sofa. “Just needed water,” you told him, grabbing an empty cup from the counter.
“Why don’t you want to share a bed with me?” you suddenly burst out, turning on your heel to face him. You weren’t going to beg, didn’t want to whine, but the words came out before you could stop yourself. Harry chuckled, padding over to join you by the sink. He pushed a strand of hair out of your face, cupping your cheek with his free hand. Pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, he whispered, “come on,” his voice low and husky.
You followed Harry out of the kitchen and back up the stairs, watching as he sat down on the edge of the bed. He patted his legs, signalling for you to join him. You straddled his thick thighs, eyes fixed on his as he looked over your body. In only his t-shirt and your tiny panties, you’d never looked more delicious to him. “I didn’t share a bed with you because I try not to sleep with women on the first date,” he told you, slipping a hand under your t-shirt before holding your waist with a firm grip. “And I wouldn’t be able to resist if I were in bed with you.” His eyes came to rest on yours, his pupils blown under thick eyelashes. “You don’t have to resist, Harry,” you replied, your voice small, barely slipping out past your heart pounding in your throat. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, one hand toying with the curls at the nape of his neck. His hand moved further up your body, thumb running over your nipple.
“Y’so beautiful,” Harry cooed, pulling your t-shirt off in one quick movement. He sat back for a second, an arrogant smirk pulling at the corners of his lips as he gazed over you. Hunger was written all over his face, the intensity of his gaze sending a shiver down your spine.
He leaned in, his lips soft as they brushed against yours. Gentle, yet fuelled by desire. His tongue moved around yours, a delicate dance that left you breathless against his mouth.
Harry’s hands roamed your exposed skin, tracing patterns of heat and need. His touch was electric, insatiable as he gripped and groped at every bit of skin he could reach. He moved with purpose, tracing the curves and contours of your upper body. Every touch, every stroke, sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body.
His lips left yours, trailing a path of fire down your throat, a trail of goosebumps left in their wake. His breath was hot against your skin, his lips smooth as he suckled and nibbled at the sensitive flesh.
You shifted slightly on his lap, his hard cock nudging at your folds through his pyjama pants. The room was filled with a symphony of whispered moans and ragged breaths as you rubbed yourself on him, the soft scratch of Harry’s pyjamas between your thighs only adding to your desire. You needed him in a way that transcended reality, a hunger that went beyond the physical. Your yearning was deep in your soul as Harry’s hands continued to explore you, his touch more than just a physical sensation. It was a language of its own, speaking unbridled passion.
He wrapped an arm under your hips, lifting you up just enough to slip his pyjamas down his thighs. His cock sprang up between the two of you, grazing your entrance. You whimpered as his tip touched you, your head falling onto Harry’s shoulder. He stroked a hand down his shaft, hissing as his thumb brushed over the angry tip. He started to move you, not expecting you to want to ride him, but you wrapped a firm hand around his neck and shook your head softly, pulling your face from his shoulder to meet his eyes. “Like this, Harry,” you whispered, shifting in his grip until his head lined up with your folds. You pulled your panties to the side, your juices warm against his head.
“You’re on birth control?” he asked, voice strangled as he resisted the urge to push into you. You nodded, sinking down slowly until his thick cock was deep inside of you, splitting your walls wide open. A deep cry fell from your lips as you stilled, his shaft throbbing as it settled into you.
“So fuckin’ tight, kitten,” he drawled, lips planting hungry kisses along your jawline. His eyes were fixed on the mirror behind you, watching his hand grip onto the curve of your ass. His free hand slid under you, easing you up ever so slightly. You could feel him everywhere, in your stomach and in your throat as he pushed deeper into you. Your walls were threatening to burst around his shaft, the size of his cock scratching an itch you never knew you’d had. It was pure ecstasy.
“Harry,” you whined, gripping him tighter as you pushed your hips upwards, starting to find your rhythm. The burn was white-hot in your core, tingles of pleasure spreading through your body as you bounced up and down on his lap. Your nails raked down his back as he fucked into you, deep whines and moans being pulled from your mouth every time Harry’s cock hit your sweet spot. His strong arm was guiding your hips up and down, his free hand still exploring your body as he pressed kisses along your throat. You still wanted more of each other, still searching each other’s bodies as if you had been starved of touch for years.
You were as close as you could be to him, your bodies melding together with every push of his hips. Your clit was rubbing against the fabric of your panties with every movement, every slap of your cheeks against his groin sending you further into your spiral.
“You’re mine, all mine, huh?” Harry mewled against your skin, his lips moving down to find your nipple. He sucked and licked around the bud, his lips swollen and hot. “All yours,” you whined, your orgasm creeping up on you after Harry’s dominant ownership. He held you tightly, your trembling legs heavy on his arm despite how light you felt. You were sure you could take flight in that moment, pleasure coursing through you with every buck of his hips. You threw your head onto his shoulder as you came, a strangled cry pushing past your dry lips.
Your walls tightened around his cock, his lips pressing a tiny moan into your skin. He flipped you over once your breathing slowed, the new angle pushing his cock deeper into you. Harry splayed a hand across your stomach, feeling where he was fucking into you. His eyes were dark as he looked down at you, watching the way your tits bounced with every rock of his hips. His thrusts started to get sloppier, his hips knocking into you harder as he came close to his high. You could feel him throbbing inside of you as he panted, jaw slack as he pulled out of you quickly. One hand stroked the length of his cock as he came, his come splashing violently all over your chest. You released the hand gripping his shoulder to swipe a finger through the puddle, licking it from your fingertip hungrily. “So fuckin’ perfect,” he drawled, chest heaving as he watched you.
You were more content in that moment than you’d ever been, silently thanking whoever had decided to steal your bag. If it was all an insane plan to get you here, covered in Harry’s come, you’d thank them every day for the rest of your life.
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smuttyaf · 11 months
Text
I Hate You
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𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰; 𝐟𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐛𝐨𝐲!𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲. 𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐞
wc: 5.4k
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“If you don’t stop I’m going to jam that pen through your ear.”
That makes the curly brunette man take his thumb off the button, eyes shifting to give a sidelong glance at you, his mouth slightly agape as he takes in the words.
You had enough of the fingers drumming against the wooden table, the shifting around in his seat constantly, and you definitely had it when he begin clicking his pen away as if you weren’t beside him through this whole class.
“I wanna see you try.” He whispers back, his head turning to smirk at you as his pen now taps against the table gently. Oh, did you want to ring your hands around his neck.
Harry Styles, the man on campus that everyone is friends with and the one that has all the ladies gossiping about. Despite him being known for his social life he also was part of a fraternity. They were popular for throwing the most outrageous parties but also pulling the stupidest pranks throughout the year— you absolutely despised them. Sloppy drinking, chain-smoking, and making themselves look like complete idiots streaking during the schools football games.
So when you walked into your English Lit class and your teacher decided to sit you next to each other for the whole semester, you wanted to claw your eyes out. Every class he would come in and purposely let his bag hit your head, his feet kicking the leg of your chair as his knees would dig into your lower back before taking his seat. At first, you paid no mind to it because it was a tight space to fit in, however when it became an everyday occurrence and his sarcastic smile and fake tone of apologies would start you would just roll your eyes.
But, him sitting next you in class wasn’t the worse thing… It was the fact that your dorm roommate was dating one of his fraternity brothers. So nearly every weekend or event that they hosted, you always managed to get dragged along to have him pick on you.
You didn’t like Harry at all. You didn’t like his stupid curls, his laugh, or tattoos that make him look like a unfinished scrapbook, and you definitely did not like the fact that he stares back at you as if you were a joke.
You squint your eyes at him and press your lips together, your fingers that were pressed into the keys of your laptop curling in on themselves as you resist the urge to strike him.
“Easy there,” He chuckles, his eyes flickering to your balled up fists before turning his head towards the teacher, the grey haired man stands in front of the podium making drastic gestures with his hands. “You wouldn’t hurt me, now would you?” Harry questions, his pen going behind his ear as he closes his laptop and notebook, stuffing it into his bag.
Before you know it, Mr. Dawson is announcing the homework for over the weekend while telling everyone he’ll see them Monday. The seat next to you pushes away from the table, and you feel his feet kick your chair and knees dig into your back. Only making your fists grow even tighter, you plant your feet flat on the carpet and push your chair against his bent legs, that makes a groan escape Harry’s lips as you stand with your closed laptop and bag, eyes staring into each other as you look at him amused.
“You wouldn’t hurt me, now would you?” You mock him before tugging off to the library.
Why couldn’t you have one encounter with him were he wasn’t a complete dickhead.
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White mini skirt and matching tube top cling to your skin, the pink cropped leather jacket shifted tightly on your shoulders as your feet tip toe towards the mirror to see yourself. You thought you looked stupid, but Faye thought otherwise.
“You need to dress like this more,” She insisted, her brown eyes wide as they scaled your body. You shook your head and groan.
“Like a joke?” You sigh, your head leaning to the side as you looked at your figure. You were never one to dress in revealing clothes, you loved crewnecks and cargo pants, especially your Converses and Vans.
“Hey!” Faye says while giving you a puzzled look.
“You know what I mean, this stuff looks good on you… not me…” You say, body now turning in the mirror to see your side profile.
You had no choice but to dress as if you were a plastic doll. The Barbie movie just recently came out which made Faye’s boyfriend, Niall, think it would be a good idea to throw a party insisting everyone dress up as if they were in “Barbie’s Dream House”. That’s why you’re standing in the mirror, white opened toed heels and curled hair staring back at you as Faye tried to make you look like Biker Barbie.
“You look hot Y/N, don’t overthink it,” She says while taking your shoulders in her hands and shaking you gently, making you let out a nervous laugh.
She’s right, don’t overthink it, you’ll most likely be surrounded by dim lights and drunken bodies that no one will even notice your change of appearance.
However, despite those words that played over and over again in the back of your head, your thoughts begin to fill as you stepped into the house. Each person you passed by, gazing their eyes over your skin, lazy smiles sent your way while winks would drop other times, and you just simply wanted to disappear.
“Let’s go get a drink,” Faye yells in your ear over the pumping music. You nod your head in agreement and made your way into the familiar kitchen.
“Fancy seeing you here!” The usual Irish voice of Niall calls to Faye as he brings her into embrace. You let a small smile slip on your lips before you see Harry next to him with an amused face.
As Faye and Niall chatted with each other while taking red cups apart to pour liquor in, Harry stepped closer to you; his curls are tossed away behind his ears as he had a sleeveless light blue jean jacket with matching pants on, his tattoos exposed and glistening against the lights.
“You look good for once!” He quips, his red cup knocking against his chest. The smile falls from your lips as you send daggers at him.
“Do you ever shut up,” You say, your eyes tearing away from him and to the red cup that Faye hands you.
“Hey! I was being nice for once!” Harry chimed, lips dropping into a pout as you watch his free hand raise to his chest in hurt. Instead, you ignore him and pay attention to whatever Faye was talking about but that doesn’t last long when you feel a finger poke your hip and you’re glaring back at the tattooed man.
“Am I not Kenough?” He questions, and that only makes you snort as a laugh trails out after, understanding his reference. “There it is,” Harry grins as he takes a drink from his cup. You only roll your eyes and focus back on the previous conversation.
“Whatever,” You mutter while taking a sip of your overly strong drink.
Soon that cup turned to four more, the overthinking thoughts about how embarrassing you thought you looked tonight slipped your mind as you were dancing with the cute boy in your Social Science course, your hands wrapped around the nape of his neck as he runts his hips against your backside.
For once, you were actually happy that you came to the party and drunk more than your normal limit. You were fed up with school and with midterms around the corner, you needed this type of fun. As you felt the room beginning to twist in your version, you turn around in Caleb’s hold and let your hands rest along his chest.
“Tired?” He questions, brown eyes peering down at you as his lips tucked into his teeth. You nodded your head in response, your finger tips feeling over his flannel as you lean into him.
“Let’s go upstairs Kels,” Caleb leans down and whispers but that only makes a frown tug on your lips.
“Kels? I’m Y/N.” You state, tone filled with annoyance that the man you had your eyes on in class had his elsewhere. You feel his head move away from your ear, his eyes raking over your face as a goofy grin begins to spread.
“Oh! Y/N! You look so different… you’re not dressed like a boy, I like it!” Caleb says, only making your stomach twist in disgust.
“Yeah…” You say, small smile replacing the frown as you feel yourself step back from his touch. “I’m just gonna go to the washroom,” You rush, tearing away from his hold and not waiting for his response.
You felt your throat begin to swell as you tried to push your way through the mess of people on the makeshift dance floor. You’re not dressed like a boy. Was he serious? That’s what he thought when he saw you? Even the fact that he called you someone else’s name! You wanted to crawl into your bed and die.
Shouts begin to ring out as the floor vibrates, everyone jumping to the party anthem playing which only makes your exit out of the living room worse. You felt your cheeks heat up and tears at the brim of your eyes, just wanting to go to the bathroom as soon as possible to let them escape.
But just your luck, as the chorus rings through the air the floor boards pound under your heels, you feel cool liquid running from your chest to your stomach. Brown booze dripping on the burrowed two piece outfit and at that point you feel your ears burn, and if you could grow horns out of your head you’re sure they would be there.
Your gaze turns away from your sticky stomach and towards the culprit who spilled it on you, your eyes meeting the familiar green ones who sits next to you in English. As your lips press together and your finger nails leave indents in your skin, you watch Harry’s eyes bulge and his mouth drop in complete shock.
“I— I’m so sorry.. I d—didn’t mean too—“
“I hate you.” You spew, cutting him off and giving him an icy glare. Your body immediately brushing past him and traveling upstairs to get away from the party that you now wished you didn’t attend at all.
Of course, Harry had to be the one to top off this moment and ruin your outfit that you know you’d have to pay Faye back for— because this was definitely not coming out. You could handle his kicking and snarky comments, but draw the line at him completely damaging something that didn’t belong to you.
You were pissed, drunk, and wanted to be buried six feet under; but instead you stomped your way up the stairs and into an empty bedroom.
Looking at yourself in the mirror, you see the stain taking up the white material, only making your eyes press shut as you feel tears begin to trail down your cheeks. This was so embarrassing; first you’re wearing something you wouldn’t ever step out in, you finally have a moment with the guy you’ve been staring at since the beginning of the semester— just for him to say you dress like a boy! And to top it off, now you have a full cup of god knows what all over you. This night sucked.
“Y/N…” You hear Harry’s voice behind the door with a knock. You open your eyes and roll them, throat letting a sigh slip out as you run your fingers against your cheeks, wiping away the tears.
“What.” You say back, turning around to rest your back against the sink.
“I—I’m being so honest with you, I didn’t mean to spill my drink on you, I promise, it was a mistake.” Harry said behind the door, his voice muffled but you can tell for once he actually sounds sincere, but who knows he also could be faking it to make you feel better.
“Sure Harry,” You called back, hand leaning down as you rake your fingers through your hair, the tear streaks drying on your skin and making your cheeks feel tight when you speak.
With surprise you heard the rumble of the door knob and soon is faced with Harry who actually has a sad look written on his features.
“Ever heard of privacy,” You mutter, your eyes tearing away from his and looking at the white tiled floor.
“It’s my bathroom,” Harry responds, only making you suck in your breath and fingers drum against the porcelain sink, not realizing it was his room you escaped too.
“I’m sorry. I’ll leave.” You rush, eyes still down as you break away from your stance and move towards the door. That only makes Harry stand in front of you and block your movements.
“No it’s okay don’t worry, it’s my fault. Believe me Y/N, I really didn’t mean to fuck up your outfit.” He says, genuinely which makes your gaze tear and lock with his. Your breath catches in your throat because for once he doesn’t have a menacing look.
“Okay.” You say, lips being sucked into your mouth as your stare never wavers.
“L—Let me get you a change of clothes,” Harry urges, his feet stepping back as he makes his way out of the bathroom and walk over to his dresser. This makes you trail behind him as your hands tug at the bottom of the dirty skirt riding up.
“Oh spare clothes of the girls you sleep with, yay,” You sarcastically remarked, heels clicking against the floor boards as you followed him.
“Ha ha.” Harry says, his voice serious as he dug into his top drawer and pulled out a plain black tee. That only makes you chew down on your lip, your fingers taking the garment in your hand, eyes running over how big it is compared to your frame.
“Trust me, everyone will be too drunk to remember what people were wearing tonight,” He spoke, both of his hands going to either side of him as he leans against the dresser, and maybe it’s the alcohol in your system but the way he is against the furniture with his jacket opened displaying his tattoos, has your mind forgetting about his treatment towards you over the past few months.
“I figured,” You mumble as you tear the t-shirt away from your chest and your eyes flicker between it and the brunette before you. “Uh.. can you turn around?” You question while beginning to shrug off the pink leather jacket.
“Nothing I haven’t seen before,” Harry scoffs while tearing his tattooed arm off the dresser and letting his hand cover his eyes. You scoff while kicking off your heels and tugging the damp clothing off your skin. “What?” Harry counters, you see his eyebrows push together in his palm as he questions your response.
“I just dress like a boy… that’s all. I bet I’m not exactly the girl you look at…” You mumble, the feeling of the clean fabric running down your skin makes your fingers gaze over it.
“I think you dress cute,” Harry confesses. The compliment making your cheeks heat up and your palms grow with sweat. You really shouldn’t even be glowing from his words. This was the guy who tormented you since September; hitting you with his book bag, giving snarky comments and mean jabs. Why are his words making butterflies erupt in your stomach.
“You’re just saying that, let’s not forget what you said in the kitchen…” You respond, leaning down and picking up the drenched clothing and balling them together. “You can look now.” You state, as you see him put his hand down and give you a bright smile. The way he’s acting so different from what you’re use to, maybe it’s the alcohol in both of your systems.
“You know I was just teasing… but why does it even matter?” Harry ask, that only makes your eyes tear away and look at your polished toes running over each other against the dark hard wood.
“It’s nothing… it’s whatever really,” You sigh, fingers now playing with the ends of his shirt.
“Is that what the guy you were dancing with told you?” Harry asks, only making your head snap up and send him questioning gaze.
“You were watching me?” You inquire. His turn to now dip his head down and avoid your eyes.
“I wouldn’t say that… I just noticed, that’s all.” He says, his head swinging a bit as he lifts himself off the dresser and makes a step towards you, his hand taking the wet clothes.
“Promise I’ll get the stain out,” He remarks, a goofy look on his face and that only makes you smirk.
“Make that promise to Faye, not me.”
“Fuck… She’s gonna have me dead.”
The two of you erupting in drunken laughter at the image of Faye seeing her ruined garments, just knowing the screaming match she’ll have with Harry.
“Why can’t you be like this all the time?” You asked, your hand reaching to your chest as you try to regain your breath.
“You’re the one who hates me,” Harry says giving you a pointed look. “You’re the one who’s mean to me.” You remark your chin tilting as you stare up at him.
“You can’t even blame me,” He smiles while rolling his eyes, his arms crossing over each other and the heat of him radiates onto your body. “You’re cute when you’re mad.” His head leaning down and placing a small peck on your lips.
You were stunned in place, your eyes still open as he continues to place small kisses on your lips. As you leaned in closer to him, his hands tore away from his chest to drop the clothes and hold your hips. What the fuck was actually going on right now? You were really kissing Harry and it felt good— you didn’t want to admit.
The peppering kisses turned into lips syncing onto each other, your eyes now fluttering shut while your hands lie on his inked chest. It felt so wrong but the way his lips tasted of cherry coke and rum, you wanted to get drunk off it.
Deep breathes and needy hands were soon shared between the both, your fingers were now running through the hair on the nape of his neck while his roams your backside. The way his huge hands were pushing your cheeks and shoving you closer to him made you wet.
You pulled away from his lips, a string of saliva linking you too together which makes Harry smirk, his eyes glossy and lips bruised red. You wanted to fuck him so bad.
“You’re a shit kisser.” You remark. His smirk falling as his hands tighten around your ass.
“Shut up,” He mutters before pressing his lips roughly against yours, his fingers slipping deeper to cup your bum, some digits gliding over your heat only making you whimper at the touch.
His tongue tangled with yours as his chest closed the space left between you two. Harry’s weight molding onto you as he forces you to take steps back until your knees hit the bed frame and you’re falling back onto the mattress. You let your elbows push you up on the bed, your eyes locking with his as he lowers himself on you, his lips pressing back against you as your thighs bring him in.
His clothed member pushes against your heat which only makes a whimper escape, you still can’t get over that he has his tongue in your mouth but now you’re making him hard. Was this really the same guy you were cussing at just a few hours ago.
Harry’s hands move away from your shoulders and spread to where your thighs hold him, the way his hands feel running down your skin has you pushing yourself deeper into his touch.
“Easy there…” He mutters against your lips when he pulls away, his lips traveling to your neck to then run over your clothed breasts, his eyes looking to yours as his lips gaze your nipples. You wanted to moan at the sight, the way his curls surrounded his face, his green orbs staring back at you while he descended down your body.
“Harry,” You whisper when you feel his breath rush over your stomach, his hands slipping under his shirt and feeling over your hips before playing with the band of your panties.
His response to the call of his name, was peeling the material down your legs and his mouth pressing open kisses onto your hip bone. Your heart beat was making your chest hurt from how nervous yet excited you are; was this really about to happen?
Your question was soon answered when you felt his breath against your heat, his hands pushing the shirt over your hips as you watch his curls brush against your inner thighs when you feel him lick a stripe up your folds. This made you dig your teeth into your bottom lip because, yeah this was happening.
Green eyes looking back at you as his tongue runs back up your slit to let it circle around your clit, lips suckling on the nerves before dangling it with his tongue again. This made your head knock back and your eyes flutter shut, he was teasing you, like he always does.
His mouth repeats those motions as moans tremble from your lips, head resting on your shoulder as you look at him sucking your folds. You let your free hand run through his hair, tugging at it lightly.
“I know you can do better than that.” You remark, eyes batting at him slowly as you push back down on him. In that moment you swear you watched his eyes glaze over a different shade, his hands gripping against your hips roughly as he lets his tongue delve into you.
Thick and slicked with spit his muscle flexed it’s way between your folds, his nose rubbing against your clit as he licked into you, humming against your heat as his nails left indents in your skin. Words can’t even express how it felt, the way his tongue just roamed inside you so wickedly that it had whimpers and moans leave you.
The view of him was even better, his eyes fluttering as he looked like he was pleased with the way you tasted, his hair falling over his forehead. The look of Harry between your legs only makes you moan again and squeeze your thighs against his face, his fingers bruising your skin from how hard he’s holding you.
You let your back completely fall to the mattress, both hands now carding though his hair as you let your hips roll against his mouth, his tongue now lying flat against your heat as he lets you ride him. Hips running up and down the expanse of his muscle, clit smoothing against taste buds as you work yourself on him, Harry’s mouth moaning against your pussy as he peeled his eyes open to stare at you, the sight making you moan immediately.
You were too tipsy to even comprehend that this was actual reality; you were suppose to hate Harry, despise him! Yet, he was between your legs and sending shockwaves throughout your nerves.
Fingers tighten in the curly locks as your hips stutter and jerk on his tongue, the sinking feeling in your abdomen tightens as your orgasm creeps upon you. The feeling of his fingers pushing down on your hips making you seep deeper into the mattress, and moan at the roughness of his touch.
The ball in your stomach begins to build, your chest breathing in shallow breaths as your thighs twitch, his tongue licking you into bliss. Just as you feel the nerves in your stomach nearly burst, the heat of his muscle tears away and makes a cry leave your lips while Harry placed wet kisses up your body.
“You didn’t think I was gonna let you get off this easy,” Harry hums against you, his hands leaving your hips and letting it rake his shirt over your head. They then go to take off his jacket and tug his jeans down, your hands immediately going to peel his boxers down his thighs.
“For someone who hates me so much, you really want my dick right now,” He mutters, his hand going to his exposed member and rubbing himself, the sight making you clench your legs.
Now, you can really see what the girls on your campus were talking about; the way his hair dropped in loose curls surrounding his face, tattoos that flex so nicely in the dim lighting of the room, and the way he’s staring at you like he’s craving you. You finally see it.
Harry lets himself run against your heat, his head lying on your clit and rubbing over it only making you suck in a breath. He was pressed so nice and warm against you while toying with your nerves. Seconds later, he leans down and lets drool slip from between his lips to trace down his dick to drip between your exposed folds. You wanted to look at this sight forever, but you hate the fact that you like this so much but can’t help but too, Harry was hot you had to admit.
The thoughts leave your mind when you feel his head slip into you, edging himself back out slowly before continuing to seep back in. Once again, he was teasing you but you had enough with this game since you just wanted the feeling of him inside you finally.
You let your hands dig into the sheets while moving your hips down on him, his dick slipping deeper into you which only elects moans from both of you. The thickness of him buried around your tight walls sends a blissful sensation of yourself stretching around him, your mouth hangs slightly open while your eyes flutter.
Harry doesn’t take the chance to tease you anymore, instead he slips all of himself inside of you before drawing back slowly and sinking into your dripping pussy. His head leaning down to lay in the crook of your neck and press kisses against the skin there, while he continue to peel his hips back and dive back into you.
“Pussy feels so good,” Harry grunts into your ear as he begins to pick up the pace and smack his hips against yours.
Your eyes peel open and let your hands rest along his ribs, your head knocked back into the pillows and gaze caught between the loose ringlets of his curls and the popcorn ceiling, as the sound of the wetness between your legs is accompanied by the slamming of his hips fills the room. You couldn’t remember the last time you had mind blowing sex like this, it must be months now. But, the wait was definitely worth it, because the feeling of Harry’s dick diving into you while his grunts and moans filled your ear was something that you wanted to last forever.
Yet, you still couldn’t believe it was him doing this to you. You don’t think you’ll ever get over this. The man you’re suppose to hate is filling your walls and captivating every cell in your body to fall under his spell.
“You fill me up so—“ You’re words being cut off when you feel Harry pull himself out until his head is breached and thrust back into you, the motions repeating themselves which only makes your mouth hang open and your nails sink into his skin.
Completely cut off guard by the change of his rhythm, you were starstruck. Your eyes fluttering close and letting him do absolutely whatever he wanted to you, just accepting the fact that he was digging into you so deliciously that you had no words to express what you were feeling.
The smell of rum and cherry fills your nose as you feel his lips link with you, his mouth moaning when your tongues lock together, hips never stopping their tantalizing movements. The feeling of him filling up your pussy with his thickness, the way you managed to become more wet by the different flow of his hips, the way his body heat covered you like a blanket.
The familiar feeling of your climax welcomes you again as Harry keeps on thrusting himself inside of you. The ball in your stomach, unraveling with each stroke only making your thighs clench tighter and pull him into you more.
“Mhm… you like me fucking you?” Harry breathes against your lips only making you cry out in frustration as you feel yourself beginning to come apart underneath him, and the fact that he’s talking to you like this is only bringing it on even more.
You nodded your head silently, eyes fluttering open to peer into his olive ones while his bushy eyebrows were knit together.
“Answer me,” He continues his hand that was by your head wrapping around your throat and you knew just by the feeling of his fingers against the skin there, you were done.
“Yes,” You cried out, eyes never tearing away as you felt the bundle of nerves in your stomach burn inside you. Your legs shaking, thighs wrapping tighter around him and nails now dragging down his sides tiredly as the feeling of pure euphoria washes over you.
Harry thrusts however never slowed down, he kept the rhythm while staring down at you, his teeth biting down on his bottom lip as he watched your face go through phases of pleasure. Your fingers leave his back and trail to his neck, legs hanging loosely around him while you stare back up at him, the beating in your heart slowing down compared to the way it was erratically beating before.
“You’re so hot when you come all over me,” He mutters, his head dipping down and now sucking bruises onto your skin. Butterflies spread in your stomach and to stop a smile from forming you bite the inside of your cheek.
His hips begin to slow, breath blowing over you shallowly and the feeling of him sliding between your walls steadily, only making you crane your neck to the side to get him to look at you. Harry tears his head away from your neck, his lips stuck between his teeth and brows still furrowed.
“Fuck,” He grunts, the feeling of him buried in your heat immediately withdrawn as his warm seed spills on your stomach. You watch his chest heave up and down as he regains his breath. Soon, the warmth of him leaves your body as you watch him sit back on his knees, his arm reaching over to his discarded shirt you once wore and wiping away the fluid.
“Seems like you just make a mess everywhere you go,” You remark, that only makes Harry let out a small laugh before tossing his shirt on the floor. He tugs his boxers over his hips and kicks the rest of his jeans off, you let yourself slip into the sheets while he lies next you.
The room grows quiet, the only sound being heard is the party downstairs. Now your thoughts run wild, you’ve sobered up a bit but still in a daze, wondering if Harry is regretting what just happened.
“Are you going to go back to hating me after this?” Harry asked, his voice deep as he turned to look you.
Fingers twisting together, you let your gaze turn away from him and look at the sheets before you. If you were being honest, you were more confused then anything about what this meant and how you felt towards him now; you couldn’t explain how you felt, still stuck between the way he treated just hours before to how he made you feel just minutes ago, how can you explain what you feel?
“You’ll just have to wait and see…”
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wileys-russo · 5 months
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the one where the kids go bowling II barça femeni
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part of the 'pollito' universe, stuck tiny silver flash the one where the kids go bowling II barça femeni
"-and you will message me once you finish up and get to jana's, sí?" you pushed off alexia's hands which fixed your necklace so the clasp wasn't showing with a huff.
"sí ale! por favor can i go now?" you groaned, hovering by the door with an overnight bag in hand feeling like a little kid going to a sleepover as alexia fussed over you.
it was jana's birthday and she'd invited a few of the younger girls to go bowling and out to dinner, offering for you to spend the night at hers with bruna and ona which you'd happily accepted.
with all of the girls backing you up and promising to keep an eye out for you and vicky, the captains had no choice but to agree though you knew you largely had patri to thank for that who shockingly had been the voice of reason in the scenario.
"sí, enjoy yourself but do not do anything i wouldn't do nena!" the older girl warned as you heard olga snicker from the sofa and you leaned around alexia to shoot her a grin which she returned with a wink, mouthing for you to have fun.
"don't listen to her! bad influence." alexia tutted ushering you out the door and glaring playfully at her girlfriend over her shoulder who blew her a kiss and turned back to typing away at her laptop perched on her knees.
"alexia!" you whined as she grabbed the back of your jacket to stop you racing off, following after you to bruna's car who paled at the sight of her captain gesturing for her to roll down the window which she did.
you managed to tug yourself free of the catalans iron grip, slipping into the backseat beside ona. "hola alexia." bruna swallowed nervously as the corner of the older girls mouth tugged upward a little in amusement.
"feliz cumpleaños superestrella!" bruna sighed in relief and loosened her grip on the steering wheel as alexia's stern facade melted and she gave jana a dazzling grin where she sat in the passenger seat.
"gracias ale." jana returned the grin gratefully. "no invite for me to come bowling? the disrespect for your captain chica's." alexia tutted, pushing away from the car with a wink.
"no abuela's allowed!" you called from the back with a grin, smacking bruna on the shoulder and ordering her to drive as alexia shot you a glare and opened her mouth to respond, bruna pulling out quickly from the curb before she could do.
"if she makes us run extra laps for your mouth pollito i'm gonna kill you!"
~
"hola mis chicas!" you launched yourself into the middle of the small group of girls who'd already arrived and were sat in the booth by your designated lane, groans of pain greeting you where you'd landed on them, shoved to the side as ona bonked you on the head with your bowling shoes and handed them over.
you let out a yell as no sooner did you bend down to lace them up a body slammed into you nearly taking you off the bright blue leather lounge entirely.
"lópez!" you shoved her back, the two of you wrestling around for a moment before salma stepped in to break it up and sent vicky off for her turn.
"you know you are supposed to knock the pins over bru, sí?" you teased as the girl bowled a zero and stomped back to the lounges with a scowl.
"sí its not like golf bruna, lowest score loses not wins!" jana added on sitting down beside you with a smirk as bruna flipped you both off and sat down herself with a huff.
you all cheered as vicky bowled a strike, taking a photo for your social media and squealing as janas hand moved to brush the back of your neck as she set something down behind you.
"why is your hand so cold! dios mío." you cringed at the icy tips of her fingers as jana laughed and prodded at you. "this is yours." jana tapped one of the bright red slushees she'd put down and poked your cheek before getting up to take her turn.
what she failed to mention was the utter importance that you drank only the slushee which was yours.
but too busy laughing at your friends woeful attempts at bowling you grabbed jana's without realising, frowning a little at the odd taste but unsure what flavour it really was you paid it no mind, sticking your bright red tongue out at vicky who giggled and did the same.
vicky was also too busy laughing at ona who routinely bowled gutter ball after gutter ball and swore so much that a mother on the lane over came and gave her a talking to about family friendly language, the older girl going bright red and stammering out an apology.
what your friends failed to mention was why it was so important the two of you drank the slushees that were given to you, and that was that on a perhaps poorly minded decision the older girls had snuck in a flask of vodka and spiked their slushees.
not enough to get them drunk of course just...a little pleasantly buzzed.
but with you and vicky having little to no experiences drinking, the small amount of alcohol had gone right to your heads though neither of you had tweaked the reality of your situation just yet.
which is why you weren't sure what was so funny as you stood to take your turn to bowl, or why your fingertips suddenly felt weird and your legs a little tingly, or why you couldn't work out which lane you were supposed to bowl in given you had to squint to narrow it down from three to one.
"apresúrate pequeña we have dinner reservations at eight!" jana groaned impatiently, tapping her foot with a roll of her eyes as you closed one of yours to try and stop the lanes from moving.
giving it your best go you wound up and let go of the ball, tripping over your own feet and crashing to the ground with a thump as the ball sailed up and over the gutters, landing in the lane of the group beside you who jumped in shock.
you felt hands on your body trying to help you up an voices muffled like your head was underwater but their faces were a blur and all you could do was giggle, poking at the weird blobs in front of you as a warmth spread through your body and you let out a loud and sudden peal of laughter.
"is she..." salma trailed off with wide eyes at bruna who was on your other side helping you up. "no. she can't be? hers and vickys didn't have anything in them, we made sure." bruna denied with a firm shake of her head though as vicky fell off the edge of the lounge with a giggle her certainty faded.
"what is wrong with them?" esme asked worriedly, helping vicky up as you were sat back down and went limp, closing your eyes and giggling to yourself at nothing, enjoying the feeling of the warmth sitting comfortably now in your rosy red cheeks.
with the other girls distracted arguing over who spiked what you sat up and grabbed your slushee, downing the last few mouthfuls as your elbow brushed jana's side and she turned.
"aye pollito no!" the birthday girl groaned snatching the now empty cup from your hand, vicky already having finished her own as she tried to stand up to take her turn and promptly fell right back down nearly into emse's lap.
"sniff that bruna. idiota i told you this was a bad idea!" jana seethed smacking the younger girl across the back of the head and shoving your empty slushee cup in her face which indeed smelled like vodka, esme doing the same to vickys which was the same story.
"me? this was your idea amiga its your birthday!" bruna scoffed as the two began to bicker, ona trying her best to break it up as you took the opportunity of them being distracted to sneak off, suddenly having an overwhelming urge to run away.
knocking your knee against vickys she shared your grin, the two of you dropping to your knees and crawling away to the booth beside your own lane, grabbing one anothers hands with a giggle and racing off.
"hey vuelve aquí!" salma noticed the back of your heads race off and yelled out, yanking the others up as ona stayed back to reset the lanes so you could all leave.
you and vicky didn't make it far, tripping over your own feet and grabbing out for her to steady you, instead accidentally pulling her down to the ground with you as the two of you collapsed into a pile of giggles and hiccups.
bruna apologizing quickly to the staff who wandered over to check everything was okay jana and esme hauled you up as salma grabbed vicky, ona joining her as the group made their way out of the bowling alley.
"mierda i don't feel good." vicky mumbled and salma barely turned before the younger girl threw up the entire contents of her stomach onto the asphalt, bright red bile pouring from her mouth as everyone cringed and you took the brief moment to again run off.
"chica no!" jana moaned in annoyance dragging her hands down her face, her and bruna racing off after you as the others hung back to look after vicky.
"can't catch me chica's!" you sang out with a wild grin, racing between parked cars and ducking and weaving your way to escape the two older girls chasing you down.
"i don't think we're making that dinner reservation amiga." bruna doubled over trying to catch her breath as jana just missed you, groaning tiredly as you took off again with a joyous whoop but then suddenly you stopped, careering over and vomiting up your own bright red bile making them wince in disgust.
"we need back up, now."
~
when mapi had seen jana's name and number flash on her screen she'd frowned, assuming it was just an accidental call and letting it ring out, returning to the crossword on the table in front of her.
but when it rang again curiosity got the better of her and she clicked accept and tucked it into her shoulder. "hola jana? está todo bien?" mapi had questioned with a frown.
"vale vale slow down chica, she is what?" ingrid looked up at this, sitting up from where she'd been sprawled out across their lounge reading a book, sending her girlfriend a curious look whose frown deepend.
"vale. have you called alexia? oh, i see. sí message me the address and i will leave now amiga, get them some water, small sips." mapi sighed, sending ingrid an odd look as the norwegian snapped her book shut and pushed up to her feet as mapi uttered a few more words and hung up the phone. "whats wrong amor?" ingrid asked as mapi tucked her phone into her pocket with a sigh.
"believe me mi vida, you do not want to know."
~
jana could have cried in relief when she saw mapi's car pull up, the girl parking and making her way over as bruna rubbed your back and vicky was slumped into salma mumbling nonsense with a giggle every now and then, both of you having spent the last ten minutes voilently throwing up until there was nothing at all left in your stomachs.
"what happened?" the older girl sighed at the sight in front of her, wincing as all of the girls launched off with their own recall of events. "mi dios chicas, one at a time! bruna, go." mapi rubbed her temples and waved as everyone fell silent bar yours and vickys giggles.
"we didn't mean to mapi, promesa. we just wanted to have a little fun and we only put the alcohol in our drinks. but they got mixed up and they both ended up drinking the spiked ones and now they're drunk." bruna winced at the dissapointed sigh that came from the defender stood in front of her.
"i will take pollito home and she will stay with ingrid and i. who is looking after vicky? should i call patri?" mapi asked with a raised eyebrow as a chorus of no's rang out, nobody wanting to involve any of the captains.
"she will stay with me, esme is too." salma confirmed as mapi nodded, wincing as the girl in question lurched forward and threw up again. "you might want to take a bag in the car with you." the older girl suggested pulling a face as everyone got to their feet.
"vamos pequeña, up we get!" mapi grunted grabbing your hands and pulling you to stand as you giggled and your legs gave out, jana steadying you on your other side as she and bruna helped walk you to mapi's car.
"we really are sorry mapi, it was a complete accident." bruna blushed bright red as you were buckled into the back seat and mapi slid into the drivers seat and lowered her window.
"you did the right thing by calling me amiga's. but this stays between all of us, nobody else in the team will ever never know this happened or i was here. vale?" mapi warned sternly as both younger girls nodded hastily making the defender soften and chuckle a little.
"feliz cumpleaños jana, i do not think this is a birthday you will forget anytime soon mi amiga."
~
"oh dios mío pequeña, stay still!" mapi groaned, grabbing the collar of your shirt as you tried to race off again, the car ride seemingly recharging your battery as you were giggling and babbling nonsense the entire elevator ride up.
hearing her voice on the other side of the door ingrid hurried to pull it open as mapi wrestled to get her keys from your grip where you'd snatched them.
"liten!" ingrid gasped as mapi pushed you inside her apartment and you tripped over your own feet tumbling to the floor and sprawling out on the hardwood giggling to yourself.
"is she-" ingrid realised offering you a hand up which you battered away as you rambled something inaudible in spanish and covered your face with your hands, body shaking with laughter.
"drunk? sí." mapi sighed watching you with a shake of her head before catching ingrid up on the nights events which had lead up to this. "alexia is going to flip." ingrid whistled knowingly, mapi cursing as your leg lashed out to kick her in the shin and you laughed.
"el diablo." the defender huffed, ingrid gently pushing her back as she went to advance on you, your usual love language which would have meant mapi kicking you back hardly appropriate right now.
"alexia will not know, i already messaged her from pollitos phone saying she arrived to jana's. she is a good kid, this is the first time anything like this has happened and really it was an accident." mapi sighed, a small smile curling onto her lips as you spotted bagheera wandering out of the bedroom and gasped crawling across to him on your elbows.
"maríaaa!" you sang out suddenly breaking the two older girls out of their conversation. "sí pequeña?" mapi sighed with a smile of amusement, shaking her head at the way bagheera had settled himself on your chest.
"i'm hungry make me food." you demanded, giggling at nothing as your fingers felt tingly and you ran them through bagheeras soft fur. "what have you eaten today kjære?" ingrid interrupted before mapi could.
"i made avocado toast and eggs this morning but we-oh we were supposed to go to dinner! its janas birthday!" you clapped excitedly and sat up, scaring bagheera who jumped about a foot in the air and scurried off back to the bedroom.
"they'll be picking me up soon-oh mierda!" you swore as you tried to stand and the room span, sending you tumbling right back down onto your ass with a groan of pain followed by a fit of laughter.
"vamos estúpido, we need you in one piece por favor." mapi chuckled moving to help you up, slinging your arm over her shoulder and maneuvering you to lay down on the sofa as ingrid started to make you some toast.
"maps...the room is spinning make it stop!" you whined covering your face as the defender patted you on the head with a smile. "sí pollito, you are drunk. remember this feeling the next time someone ever offers you a drink!" mapi chuckled and you let out a deep sigh, removing your hands and rubbing your eyes furiously.
"i'm not drunk!" you scoffed once the room stopped spinning, wiggling your toes which felt all tingly and electric. "sí mi amiga you are, do you remember the red drink from bowling?" mapi asked gently and you looked at her like she had three heads.
"i haven't been bowling! i tried to go and you manhandled me onto the lounge and now my legs won't work. are they broken?" you began to panic as the pins and needles spread and your eyes widened.
"no idiota, they're not broken." mapi laughed, moving to massage your knees as you sighed in relief and ingrid chuckled from the kitchen.
"maría." you started as mapi hummed still massaging some feeling back into your tingly legs. "i love you, so much." you sobbed out, mapi's head whipping sideways in shock as you started to cry.
"i know we fight and mess around but you're like a big sister to me and i love you so much!" you sobbed out, sitting up and throwing your arms around her neck as the defender bit down on her lip to stop from laughing, rubbing at your back.
"i think we've moved through the stages. from giggling, throwing up, running away, falling over to sappy mess." mapi spoke to ingrid as you cried into her shoulder and the norweigan set down a plate of toast on the coffee table.
"ingrid!" you sobbed letting go of mapi and opening your arms as the brunette stifled a laugh herself and allowed you to wrap her in a tight hug. "i love you both so-oh toast!" you spotted the plate behind their backs and wiggled free reaching out for it.
"imbécil." mapi mumbled with a chuckle as you munched away happily, eyes beginning to droop with each minute that passed as your giggles returned, both girls sitting beside you on the lounge as ingrid clicked the tv on.
"so...vamos whose dropping me to bowling?"
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bits-and-babs · 1 year
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✦ 𝐁𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐈𝐒𝐌 𝐎𝐅 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄 ✦
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– KINKTOBER DAY 8: ROLEPLAY
könig x reader | smut, 18+ | 1.2k words
summary: as with all of your bedroom antics with könig, you plant the seed. but when he finally succumbs to your devious plan, you struggle to withstand the heat.
cw: f!reader, roleplay hostage situation, faux attack, faux disregard for partners comfort (könig cares a lot though, i promise) oral sex (m receiving), rough oral sex, face slapping, rough deep throating. 
⇽ KINKTOBER MLIST | DAY 9: WITCH!READER ⇾
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The answer is unyielding and finite; ❝ no ❞. 
König was consistent in his promise to separate work from pleasure, so to speak. He refused to amalgamate something as pretty and delicate as you with something as ruinous and hideous as war— as his job. 
KorTac and Task Force 141 were unaware of your existence. König assured you it was for your protection. The less his allies knew about his valuable and beloved, his adversaries knew little still. Despite this, he offered you insight into his hostile world through a minute embrasure; the Scottish bomb disposal expert, Soap, the handsome Gaz who König colloquially named ‘helicopter boy’. Ghost. 
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Still, he insisted upon keeping you pure. Scratch free, barren from the agonising shrapnel of grief and the devastating shells of brutal warfare. 
So when you pose the idea, quiet and shy in your approach, of König wearing his tactical uniform and treating you like a captive… The ‘no’ is adamant. However, as with everything you do or say to König, the idea worms its way into his mind. 
Days pass, but the thought seems to stick with König. He’s unsettled, fidgety almost. You suppose he thinks he’s being subtle, but with a frame as enormous as König lugs around, it’s almost impossible for the pitiful giant to do anything indistinctly. One nervous bob of his knee appears to set off avalanches in Tibet. 
When you return from work, everything is still, and abnormally quiet. It’s unusual for the house to be vacant upon your return from work, König always at the door as if ready to spring and remove the damn laptop bag that threatened to pop your shoulder from its socket as though it were an incendiary with a lit fuse. Nevertheless, the lights are off today, and the TV is silent. 
Creeping forward into the apartment, the door slowly swings shut behind you. The click of the lock setting into place isn’t alien to you– but neither is it, it seems, to your attacker. Poised and lethally swift, your assailant leaps from the shadows of the dimly lit apartment and smothers your mouth before a scream can even bubble past your trembling lips. Soft hushes breathe against your ear before terror can truly kick in, a familiar lilting accent turning your knees soft beneath your weight.
“You are to do as I say when I say it, Meine Perle.” König sounds so relaxed, as though he’s not breaking a sweat beneath the tactical vest you can feel digging into your shoulder blades. With a fizzling arousal skittering up your vertebrae and trembling beneath his touch, you nod your head slightly. It earns you praise, whispering a quiet ‘good girl’ against your hairline. 
So in tune with König’s non-verbal commands, you kneel as though he had barked the order when you feel him tap your shoulder absentmindedly. It’s foreign, the disregard König shows to your knees by making you settle on the hardwood floor in front of the entrance door– usually he would situate a pillow beneath you to ensure you didn’t bruise. Not today. You were his hostage. His plaything. 
Gazing up at the startling bulk of the behemoth standing before you, a thrill prickles at the nape of your neck when you watch him unzip his camo trousers deftly. It’s as though your taste buds tingle with anticipation as König pulls his already leaking cock from them, the leather of his gloves protesting quietly as he grips his length hard. 
“Open your mouth.” It’s an order. A threat. Excitement rouses between your thighs as you do just that, gazing up at your captor demurely and situating your palms on your lap. He’s unforgiving, winding your hair around his fingers and violently pulling your mouth onto his twitching cock. 
You barely register what’s happened before the rumble of his groan reaches your ears. A quiet ‘fuck’. 
Then he’s pushing, using the heel of his palm on the curve of your skull to sink you down his length before you’re ready. Firm, velvety flesh hits the back of your throat and sends you reeling, tears welling in your eyes as you gag around him, attempting to draw back. 
“Stop,” he barks, the frigidity of his tone triggering sparks in your abdomen– so unlike König. He halts your retreat, shoving you forward onto his cock until your nose is buried in the thatch of dark curls at the base of his shaft. Salt burns in the back of your throat, and tears spill down your cheeks. There’s a gleam in his eye that tells you he’s grinning. 
“If you value the air in your lungs,” König murmurs, voice sticky and thick with arousal as he rocks his hips slightly, your nose bumping his pubic bone and the head of his dick nudging your at your gag reflex, “it’ll do you good to stay put.” 
Heaving breaths through your nose, you flinch as König raises his leather-clad palm. It strikes downwards, connecting with your cheek harder than you suppose you’d both anticipated– because König lets out a sadistic groan of bliss, head lilting to the side slightly as he tries to bury himself further down your throat. It crushes your nose into his abdomen, and you feel the skin stretched above the bridge wrinkle. 
“Shit–” you hear him heave, the fingers in your hair tightening mercilessly, “I felt that in my cock.” The murmured admission, a slight deviation from that character König was attempting to play. Glee buries itself at the base of your spine, pulses in your clit. 
“Again,” he snaps back into character, with his dick buried as far down your throat as possible. Again, he lifts his wrist, bringing it down with a brutal smack against your cheek. The skin prickles, and you heave against the intrusion of his cock until tears spill down your cheeks. 
König’s lungs rattle with the force of his growl. His eyes are dark behind the mask, pleasure swallowing the pretty jade-green of his irises and he watched you choke on his length. 
Of course he’s getting off on you kneeling in front of him, dick buried in your throat and making a mess of your work makeup— but he can feel the vibrations of his slaps in your mouth around him. It’s making his nostrils flare; you can hear it. 
“A-gain.”
The crack that sounds against your cheekbone this time makes you whimper with the pain that follows. König loses control of himself, it seems, grasping desperately at your skull to hold you in place while fucking into your throat wildly. His head rolls back, grip bruising as his whole body seems to seize. 
Cum spills down your throat, heavy and thick and plentiful. König sounds almost pained by the force his orgasm is ripped from him, groaning loudly and high pitched to your ears as you gag around him again, the squeezing of your throat muscles adding to his bliss. 
“Hah—“ he gasps, pulling himself from your mouth to allow you to breathe. It’s not pretty, the ridiculous sounds of your frantic breathing, but when König kneels in front of you and cradles you in his massive arms, you feel precious. Priceless. 
König presses kisses to your temple, pushes your hair from your face and tells you just that. 
“Meine Perle.” 
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littlereddream · 1 month
Text
Biomimicry, anyone?
Reader is gn in this one, little coffee shop meet cute with Jason and reader. I didn’t even know biomimicry was an actually major prior to looking a few things up for this fic. The more you know!
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Click.
Click.
Click.
Scratch.
Nope, no good.
Riiiippp.
One more try.
Scratch.
Pause.
Shhhhk!
With a groan, you fall back in your seat at the booth, hoping the paper you’re glaring at can feel enough of your frustration to suddenly supply you with all of the answers to your problems. It wasn’t like you wanted to be sitting in an empty cafe close to midnight working on homework for a class you don’t even take. You thought you’d be done hours ago, the assignment seeming so easy when your friend initially begged you to do it for her so she could attend her sister’s wedding.
Said friend fully neglected to let you know that the assignment required detailed notes from the related four hour long lecture. The same notes she forgot to give you before apparently losing all signal that would allow her to send them to you.
So.
Teaching yourself the lesson from a class you’ve never even considered taking isn’t the easiest task. It’s time consuming, exhausting, and, most of all, boring. It’s what has you offhandedly doodling alternative ideas for your celebrity signature in the corner of your page. At least, that’s what you were doing before you pressed the pen into the page too hard and tore half of it apart.
The old woman who runs the cafe took pity on you ages ago, supplying you with an endless amount of white macadamia cookies while you work. On the house, she insisted. The green discoloration on the edge of the cookies told a different story of her reason for giving them away so easily.
You pick up the pen to try again, this time turning your attention back to the assignment directions sitting on your laptop screen, when a bell chimes into the otherwise quiet space.
The later the night, the fewer customers visit the shop. Most people don’t dare tempt the idea of walking this end of the city, especially not when it’s this dark out. The civilians feared the criminals, the criminals feared the Bats. It’s that same, seemingly endless food chain that has every sensible person who can help it steering clearly of nightly escapades.
Clearly, the man who just walked in has just as poorly sensible as you.
He’s the typical, shady Gotham figure. Thick jacket, hood turned up, hands stuffed into pockets, and head angled down. He’s either about to pull out a weapon to threaten Miss. Aublergine with or demand a pre-agreed upon payment from her.
Neither of those possibilities warrant the old woman’s response. It’s enough to ease your tension, the way she lights up entirely upon seeing him.
You’re sat close enough to hear most of their conversation, abandoning the tricky assignment in favor of listening in.
“You! I’ve been wondering when you’d stop by this week,” she scolds, pulling out a small paper bag from under the counter to drop fresh, warm chocolate chip cookies into.
You can’t really see the man’s face from where you’re sat, but you can make out the minute shrug of his shoulders.
“Got busy,” he says.
You can see him pull out a leather wallet, but Miss. Aublergine is quick to slap away his hand from dropping cash into the tip jar.
“I’ve told you, I don’t want your money. If you really want to pay me back, get the loner sitting back there out of my shop so I can close already.”
She’s leveling you with a knowing look, hands on her hips and a single brow raised, and you drop your gaze back to your laptop. Either you were too obvious of an eavesdropper or she had the eyes of a hawk. Probably a mix of both.
“Yes, okay, message received. I’ll head out now,” you mumble.
While you’re busy gathering all the papers in a neat stack, you can just barely make out the muted conversation happening some feet away. Not enough to understand what’s being said, unfortunately. A few seconds later, footsteps echo over tile to where you’re sat, and worn out boots enter your field of vision. Hoodie dude.
You look up, right into alert green eyes. Green eyes that are focused on the laptop still out on the table.
“Need any help?”
Huh?
Oh.
“Not unless you happen to know anything about biomimicry,” you huff.
He smiles, and what a sight it is indeed. “I do, actually. Mind if I…?”
Too late, you realize that he’s gesturing to the empty seat next to you. At your nod, he lowers himself down.
With his help, the missing lecture notes suddenly don’t seem all that important anymore, every gap in your resources filled by the knowledge he just happens to have. He seems engrossed in the work, hardly paying attention to you next to him as he explains everything. At some point, his hood comes down. At another, your shoulders relax.
Somewhere between both of those points, you’ve both inched a little closer.
No one else enters the cafe for the entirety of the time you and him are sat together. It’s like the world around you has gone silent, sound itself pausing to give the both of you space to breathe.
And then you’re shutting the laptop with a relieved sigh, paper written and assignment finished. Neither of you move right away, but soon enough you start to pack the laptop away with the rest of the papers. It gives him an opening to stand, and when you look back up, the hood is back on.
“Thank you,” you say.
He seems genuinely surprised that you’re still talking to him, enough for his response to take a second longer than it should.
“It’s no problem. Glad I could help.”
He steps back a little, giving you enough space to slide out of the booth yourself.
“You really did. I have no idea how I was gonna get that done myself. Before this, I had no idea biomimicry was an actual major.”
He angles his head to the side a little. “Not your homework?”
“Nope. Friend of mine needed help.”
He gives an understanding nod, and the two of you are thrown back into silence. With a glance outside, it seems the night’s only gotten darker.
“I gotta head out, thanks again.”
Slinging your backpack over your shoulder, you’re stopped by his hand around your wrist. It’s instinct to snatch your arm back, but by the look of his face, the way he’s staring at his hand like it doesn’t belong to him, he hadn’t even realized he’d done it.
“Sorry. I just- sorry. Um.”
Somewhere outside, far off into another block entirely, a car alarm echoes down the street.
“You’re walking home?” He asks.
To give the random, still suspicious stranger who helped you with homework the answer to a possibly identifying question, or not.
“Yeah?”
He looks uneasy at that, eyeing the street outside the glass windows like they’re personally whispering threats into his ears.
“It’s late.” He points out.
“I noticed.”
“Dangerous neighborhood.”
“Noted and confirmed.”
He sighs, rolling his eyes in a way that suggests he’s seconds away from dragging a hand down his face.
“I’m saying, you shouldn’t be walking alone.”
Suspicious, suspicious man.
“Walked here just fine, didn’t I?” You reply.
He gives you an unimpressed look. “At a much earlier time, I’m sure.”
Finally, you decide to do you both a favor and beat at the bush instead of around it.
“If this is you trying to walk me home, I think I’m gonna pass. I appreciate the offer and all your help, but I don’t even know your name and I’d rather take my chances walking alone.”
Too harsh? Maybe. Possibly. He did just help you. Should you take it back? Say something else to soften your words? He doesn’t give you the chance to.
“Oh, right. I got it, no problem. Sorry. Be careful, no shortcuts,” He rambles, sincere and apologetic. You almost feel bad, if not for the fact that Gotham’s taught you how much better it is to be safe than to be sorry.
Just as you’re about to leave, a cough rings out from behind the register. There’s the old lady, hacking up a storm and making odd flapping motions with her hands. What- oh. She’s waving you over.
It takes five seconds for you to cross the distance over to the counter and one second for Miss. Aublergine to pull you closer by the arm to where you can just barely hear her whisper.
“Jason has been coming here almost every week for the past few months. He always tries to tip me extra, sometimes comes in with his brothers or sister,” she trails off, taking a second to return to her original thought. “Point is, I know him. He’s a good kid, not a single bad intention in him. Let him walk you home,” she hisses.
You falter, looking behind you to where the man—Jason, apparently— is closely examining the specks of dust on a nearby table. His gaze lifts to catch yours, then immediately returns to the table. He’s as bad at hiding his eavesdropping as you are.
You trust Miss. Aublergine. You know she wouldn’t throw you to the wolves if she knew better.
One last encouraging look from Miss. Aublergine has you turning back and walking over to where Jason is now overwhelmingly interested in the marble tile. You stop in front of him, aiming for an easy smile.
“Still up to walk me home?”
With a matching smile, though it seems like it takes a little effort, Jason nods.
“Of course.”
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notsopersonalcharlie · 3 months
Text
Honey Belle
Biker!Bucky Barnes x fem!reader fluff - Part of the Biker!Bucky Series
One part lead-up to the future and one part how Bucky and belle met.
Warnings: Mentions of sex and alcohol, discussion of a past relationship that bordered on abusive (non-binary reference), more car talk because i love mini coopers.
Note: My apologizes because i lost all my progress on this when i was about halfway through. Also I just have brainrot about them now sorry in advance.
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"No no no no, please baby you can make it its just a litt-" The engine shuddered and then gave out. You groaned, banging your head against the steering wheel as you pulled off to the side of the quiet street. It was getting stifling in the car very quickly. The heat wave was precisely why you needed to take Baby Blue in. Your phone showed another mile and a half on the map you saved. This shop was in some dead end town, but it was the only one that had agreed to service the vintage coop.
"Couldn't have saved me the walk?" you asked to the car as you grabbed your bag and hauled it over your shoulder. You scrawled a note to leave on the windshield and began down the straight road. The trees on either side provided some shade, but there was no sidewalk, so as you continued you could peek back at your car and to check on any oncoming traffic.
The first signs of life you saw came ten minutes into your walk. You hadn't gotten far. It was sweltering and you had to leave straight from work, so your shoes were the least comfortable thing to walk in as you sweat.
Two motorcycles were headed your way, and to your surprise they both stopped. One was wearing a light brown leather jacket, and he pulled off his helmet immediately. He had blond hair and a kind looking smile, but you were also alone in a mysterious location with no signal.
"Hey, you alright?" You stared at them, and took a step back when he took a step toward you.
"Uh-"
"You had an appointment at the Howling Commando? Twenty minutes ago? Blue vintage Austin Mini Cooper?" The other guy had popped up his visor, but hadn't taken off the helmet yet. His blue eyes were sharp, watching you. You took another two steps back.
"Buck, lose the helmet," the blond guy admonished, "We work there, you said when you called that you were worried about the heat and the engine, so when you no-showed we thought you might have gotten stuck. I'm Steve. We talked on the phone the first time I think, and then you talked to Yelena to get the details." The other guy pulled off his helmet and you thought your heart might stop. Sure the blond, Steve, was handsome in a clean cut preppy kind of way, but this guy looked like he walked out of one of the fantasy books your read as a kid. Dark eyebrows slanted over his bright blue eyes, his scruff adding to the rugged look he was sporting. He waved, a shy smile slicing away the fear you had held entirely. It changed his face, you wanted to make it happen again.
"Bucky. We'll get you all fixed up."
-/-/-/-/-
"Belle, ya home?" You looked up from your laptop. You hadn't been able to pull yourself away from the document you were building for the new hires.
"Yeah- I- oh shit. I forgot to start dinner." You turned to find Bucky stepping through the doorway from the kitchen. His grease stained tshirt was tossed over his shoulder already, leaving all his tattoos on display. One in particular always caught your attention, the sketch of a mini cooper right over his heart.
"How many time do I gotta tell you?" He asked, dropping the shirt in the hallway before coming over to you. You stood, tilting your chin to look up at him as he wrapped one arm around your back and cradled the back of your neck with the other.
"You don't have to worry about that stuff, honey. I'll take care of dinner. Finish up your work, it'll be done in no time."
"I need a break, baby, seriously. I'll help." His eyes narrowed.
"You sure?" You nodded, turning back to hit save and taking his outstretched hand to go back into the kitchen. You chopped veggies while he marinated chicken and he told you about his day at the shop. It was a familiar routine by now, three years into your relationship, but you couldn't help but feel the guilt in your stomach again. He spent all day on his feet.
"Hey, lose the face." You looked up at him.
"What?"
"I can feel your thoughts from over here." He set down the spices, rinsing his hands and patting them dry before coming over to you and wrapping you up in his arms. He was anything but weak, and carefully lifted you onto the unoccupied part of the counter and stood between your legs, looking you dead in the eye. You blinked slowly, trying not to fall into the trap of his icy-blue silence. It was impossible.
"I just feel bad is all, you spend all day on your feet and working and then you come home and make dinner. It feels, not fair." Bucky tilted his head to the side, eyebrows up. It was a conversation you had all the time, and you knew how he felt about it. He did serious very well, even if you knew there was a smile lurking just behind it.
"You know that's not how I feel. I love taking care of you. You work so hard every day trying to change the world for the better. I go dick around with my friends all day playing with cars." You snorted.
"I'm serious! My number one and most important job is taking care of my girl. I will make you dinner every night for the rest of our lives together, if that's what it takes to prove it."
"You don't have to do-"
"Nope, you're banished from the kitchen. Go feed Alpine. Get lost." You laughed, taking his face into your hands before he could lift you back off the counter. His lips were warm and soft, and his hands wrapped tighter around your middle as you tilted your head to deepen the kiss before pulling away. You rested your forehead against his, breathing in the smell of motor oil and coffee.
"I love you, James Barnes." He gave you that sweet smile, the one that transformed him into an entirely different man.
"I love you, honey belle. Now get the fuck outta my kitchen."
-/-/-/-/-
You woke up and stretched, yawning as your rubbed your eyes and sat up. And then you became aware again that you were not in your own room and you were laying in an empty bed. You glanced around, noting the distinct lack of a tall tattooed biker who had left hickeys on your chest and had all but fucked you to sleep the night before.
In his place lay a small gray cat, it sat up when you did and surveyed you before jumping gracefully off the bed and leaving out the open door. You stood up, glancing at yourself in the mirror. You were wearing a shirt that said the Howling Commandos Garage and Bar on the front. It was well worn and soft, with little frays on the bottom and the collar. Your hair was a mess and you smoothed it out before following the cat into the rest of the apartment. Your clothes which had been strewn across the living room were neatly folded in a pile on the back of the couch, and there was a note scrawled on top.
Had to head off to fix up your baby. Coffee in the pot. Stay if you'd like. Bucky
Bucky looked wistfully down the block at his apartment building.
"What is your deal today, Barnes?" Sam asked. He was newer, and Steve had brought him in to tend bar, but also help with the books at the garage. Bucky grumbled that they didn't need new people, and Steve returned with patience that just because Bucky didn't want to make new friends, didn't mean they didn't need new staff.
"He's got a crush," Steve laughed from the other side of a pickup.
"I'll have you know I sealed that deal," Bucky shot back. There was a thunk sound and then Steve appeared over the hood, rubbing the top of his head.
"What the hell are you doing there then?" Bucky shrugged.
"She was still asleep. I left her coffee and a note." Sam snorted.
"See her never."
"Her car is literally right in front of me."
"She's gonna take it somewhere else," Sam shot back. Bucky's eyes narrowed, dropping the wrench he had on hand. He was starting towards Sam when a new voice echoed through the garage.
"I would really appreciate it if you fixed my car, not got blood on it." You strolled in the front of the garage and Bucky considered falling to his knees and begging for you to stay with him forever. You were wearing your jeans and sandals from the night before, but on top you had on his Howling Commandos shirt with the original design and logo. You were holding one of the mugs from his kitchen and had an easy smile on your face.
"I thought I'd come check on the progress on my baby. Maybe learn a thing or two." Steve smirked at Bucky and turned back to his work. Sam had suddenly made himself scarce into the office.
"Sure thing, but can't let you learn too much, you might notice some things going wrong just so you can stop by to see me." You nudged Bucky with your elbow, taking a sip of coffee as you followed him back to your car.
"I don't know, I think I could have other reasons to stop by and see you."
-/-/-/-/-
You woke up to sunlight coming in through the open curtains. Bucky was sound asleep on his stomach, face pressed into his pillow and his arm thrown over you. After a moment of relishing the cuteness of him keeping you close while he was asleep, you slipped out of his grasp and headed for the kitchen.
It was mostly clean, and you started a pot of coffee for the morning before tidying up just a little bit more. Bucky had slipped in after you fell asleep. He was working the bar when you left full of a burger and with kisses pepper to your nose promising he'd be home soon. The rest of the staff had ribbed him endlessly while saying goodnight to you.
You grumbled to yourself about having to wake Bucky's whining ass up to take you to work when you noticed something on the counter. Your car keys. Trying not to get your hopes up, you peeked out the front windows and let out a squeal when you saw your car sitting in the driveway, a comically small bow on the hood.
"Wha-Who's there?" Bucky ran out in just his boxers, fists up prepared to fight an intruder apparently, but instead got a chestful of you.
"She's done?" It took him a moment to register what who you were and what you were referring to.
"Huh? Oh. Yeah, belle, she's done." You threw your arms around Bucky's shoulders, squeezing him tight.
"Thank you thank you thank you! She'll run for another three years? No problems?" Bucky held you tight, sleep already returning as he nuzzled against your neck.
"Even better. She should be alright for at least another five to ten." You pressed kisses to his face and then his hands, and kissed him goodbye for the day. Your outfit for the morning was already hanging in the bathroom and it made your morning to not have to pack extra clothes for the bike. Instead you put your coffee in a to go mug, your lunchbox in your purse, and headed for the door. The car started up with a hum and you patted the dash, turning on your favorite radio station and rolling down the windows on your way to work.
-/-/-/-/-
You sighed on your way into your apartment. Bucky said he was headed over after you left, and now you had to clean up and start on dinner. Work had been exhausting, and you had found yourself fixing other peoples' work first thing in the morning, which put you back on your own deadlines.
Still, you tossed your bag onto the black hole chair of random items in the bedroom and changed out of your work clothes into something comfy for movie night. You had bought all the ingredients for homemade pizzas over the weekend when you were ambitious about when you were going to get out of work.
"Five minutes on the couch," you muttered to yourself, "then back to work." Five minutes quickly turned into doom scrolling until Bucky knocked on your front door.
"Shit." You jumped off the couch and started pulling things out of the fridge frantically to make it look like you had already started the process. The knocking grew frantic after a minute and you rushed to the door. Bucky's eyes were wide, but he relaxed when he saw you were fine.
"Sorry, I didn't hear you." His soft smile melted your nerves a fraction, and he leaned down to press a kiss to your lips.
"You had a long day, I understand." He followed you into the kitchen, and you frowned at the array you had pulled out. Sure you had the pizza dough and sauce but also a jar of pickles, some miso, and a block of tofu.
"What were you planning on making?" Bucky asked, examining the contents of a mystery tupperware.
"Uh..." You considered coming up with a lie about cleaning your fridge, panic welling back up that he would be upset you had gotten sidetracked away from making dinner.
"I... I'm sorry, I panicked when I heard you because I hadn't started making dinner and I knew you would be hungry so I just started pulling things out of the fridge and I..." you could feel yourself beginning to ramble into a spiral.
"Woah! Woah, belle, calm down. It's okay!" Bucky came around the counter, hands on your shoulders to ground you.
"It is really okay, belle, I know you had a long day. You don't have to make me dinner. I mean it. You work long hours and clean up other people's messes all day." You could feel tears prickling at the corners of your eyes and looked down at the logo of some motorcycle brand on Bucky's shirt.
"You just work all day at the shop and I know that can be exhausting, so I just wanted to make you food so you'll be..." you trailed off. So he would be what? Had never gotten pissed at you because dinner wasn't on the table or that you didn't get him his drink before yours. He had never thrown his empty can in your direction when you didn't get a new one for him before it was empty. Bucky called your name, pushing your chin up to meet his eyes. They were big and blue and full of concern that grew when he saw the tears in yours.
"Honey, where is this coming from? We could have ordered takeout for all I cared?"
You swallowed and took a deep breath.
"My ex, they were blue collar. Worked in construction. They didn't... they thought I should do all the housework and make dinner since I sat at a desk all day. They would get... angry when I didn't or said I was too tired or it wasn't ready when they got home or I ran out of their favorite drink and... I just want you to be happy." Bucky's frown had deepened and the concern in his blue eyes had turned to anger.
"Where are they now? Who would ever do that to you?" His head turned to see if he could spot any memory of them in the apartment. To your surprise it made you laugh to see him be so protective over something that wasn't there.
"Long gone. I moved states away to leave them. It's why I've been working so much, honestly. When I switched positions I had to do it for a cut, since at the headquarters I was making more. I don't regret it for a second though." You were looking at him now, sincere. If you never moved you wouldn't have been looking for an apartment when your car overheated and you had to go to the Howling Commando. You would have never met Bucky or found an apartment a few blocks away from the bar and him.
"I'm glad you made it here too," he said finally. He wrapped his arms around you, big arms keeping you safe and his chin on your head grounding you to him.
"I know you spend every day working super hard with people you don't really like. I know you love what you do, but I would never hold any of that against you. I spend every day working with my best friends for as long as or short as I'd like. If you never cook me dinner again, I would still be happy as long as we get to sit down and eat together." He paused, and you could feel his heart beat a little faster, a shift in his posture. For the first time:
"And I love you." Your heart leapt, the tears that you had been wiping against his tshirt flowed again.
"I love you too, Bucky."
-/-/-/-/-
You texted Bucky on your way out of work, and blessedly got into your own car with air-conditioning and seatbelts. Not that you didn't trust Bucky or that you didn't like to ride with him, but it was nice to have a seat to sit in.
You began the journey home, it feeling a little longer than it had for the last few weeks when you clung to Bucky's middle with your eyes closed. You were most of the way home when a telltale rumble of motorcycles started up behind you on the long empty road. It reminded you of the first time you rode with Bucky, down this very same road when your car broke down and he took you back to the shop with him while Steve waited with the car. He had said, after securing his extra helmet to your head, that it would be only time you ever rode without the proper shoes or pants on. You had responded cheekily, since he was hot and it didn't seem like it could hurt the speed at which your car got fixed, that he was suggesting that there would be another time. He had followed that with a quick, "I have your phone number. I find another time."
The bikes were getting closer, four of them, and to your surprise Bucky wasn't with them. Steve and Sam rode on either side of you, offering salutes. You couldn't identify who the two behind were but you could tell one of them was Yelena or Natasha. It was not a regular procession, though when they did see your distinctive car when out riding, they always did stop by for a wave. Instead of leading you home, Sam and Steve guided your car to the parking lot at the Howling Commando. The fairy lights were up for the summer and a few of the regulars were already outside enjoying the weather.
"I was going to go home first you know," you whined at Steve, tossing your blazer into the passenger seat before getting out of the car.
"I think this is more important," he said, turning you away from the bar and toward the shop. The garage doors were open, but inside was obstructed by the shadows from the sunset. When you stepped in you froze. The cars and equipment had all been cleared out and a beautiful flower arrangement was across the floor, Bucky was standing a few feet away, looking nervous as the first time he came to pick you up for dinner. He spotted you and swallowed, standing up straighter as you walked towards him.
"Bucky..." You didn't have the words to say as you joined him in the array of flowers.
"Belle. I love you, I have loved you since the minute I saw you on the side of the road. From the second you wrapped your arms around me on my bike for the first time. The first night we spent together and every night since then I have known that I would spend the rest of my life with you. I promise I will make dinner every night if that's what it takes." You grinned at the little inside joke, tears pouring down your cheeks as he got down on one knee.
"Make me the happiest idiot in the world and marry me?"
"Of course I will. I love you."
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