#P happy with how it's turning out so far! bottom jaw has been giving me some trouble tho

[starakex]

This week I've started working on the head base for Zeke! Real excited to finally work on a more "standard" head shape for a change.

Still needs some shape adjustments and finishing up the mandibles before moving on to the fur!

[boldlyvoid]

forever is the sweetest con | Chip Taylor x Reader

18+

Summary: Reader's dad is a carpenter; sometimes he takes on apprentices and sometimes, if they're lucky, they get his daughter's number at the end of their training. Chip Taylor, however, hits the jackpot when her father invites him over for one of her homecooked meals.

Warnings: reader's mom passed away, mentions of parental death, strangers to lovers, random acts of kindness, mutual pining, falling in love, steamy make-outs, oral sex (male and female receiving), fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, dirty talk, sub!chip, food mentions, praise, love confessions.

word count: 6.2k

a/n: thank you @samuel-de-champagne-problems for requesting a chip fic!! i am in love with him and also yes this plot is something that happened to my parents, however, my mom is still alive and my dad does give my Instagram out to the men who subcontract for him lmao!

Her father was a carpenter, and he often took on apprentices. You see, he had to learn everything on his own to make his way in life and support his family, he was willing to help other men do the same thing. And so every night he would come home from work and talk about whatever idiot he was teaching this week.

“His name is Chip,” her father emphasized the p with confusion, “what is that even short for?”

“It’s short for Charles,” she couldn’t help but laugh, “is he at least more competent than that Mason kid?”

“Much!” He rolled his eyes, “although I did have to teach him how to put crown moulding in today, he’s a quick learner and you can tell he’s just following what they teach at the schools but I know the hacks.”

“I know, Dad,” she smiled. “Is he cute? Single?”

She’s been on dates with most of the guys he’s worked with, mainly because they went to her high school back in the day, but also because her father was trying to play matchmaker. Ever since her mother died, she’s been taking care of him and he just wanted her to have some fun outside of the house. She needed a life in his eyes.

She was content working at the diner and serving people food all day just to come home and take care of her father. He worked hard to make sure they stayed afloat after her mom, the least she could do is make him dinner and a sandwich for lunch the next day.

“He is actually,” he shrugged, “he’s a yes man, you’d probably really like him.”

“Why’s that?” She asked, waiting for whatever snide comment he was going to make to jokingly piss her off.

“Your aunt Lisa only married your uncle Jason because he was a yes man and she could wear the pants, and you’ve always been just like her,” he explained it nicer than she expected.

“Give him my number next time you work with him?” She asks nicely, taking his plate from the table and moving it to the sink.

“Good luck chip,” she hears him mumble under his breath.

It makes her laugh, she loves her relationship with her father and the friendly environment they were able to keep after everything that’s happened to their family. They always laughed together, he was always cracking jokes and even when they were shouting obscenities at each other it came from a place of love, “fuck-head” was a term of endearment in their home.

—

He brings Chip home with him without telling her, she’s been home all day cleaning the house; her hair is a mess and she’s all sweaty, and he really is cute. She made enough food for an army so it wasn’t a problem in her father’s eyes, saying “doesn’t she always look beautiful? It’s fine Y/N.”

“Yeah,” Chip agreed with a small smile and a blush that roared red down his neck. "You're very beautiful."

She cleans up a bit before dinner, brushing her hair and changing into a nice sundress. She adds some perfume and shakes the anxiety out of her body, he was just one of her dad’s friends from work. And he happened to be incredibly adorable.

Returning to find them talking about how he fixed their frozen pipes in the winter with a hairdryer. It was the most basic shit to her and yet Chip was fascinated like he’s never heard any of these things before. He’s holding a beer in his hands with a leg crossed as he leans on the sofa and he’s so cute…

He’s in his work jeans and his shirt is all sweaty, and his hair is curled on the ends from all the hard work. His hands are dirty and he smells like sawdust and home. She’s not listening to a single thing they’re talking about, she’s just staring at the way his face moves when he talks and how sweet his laugh is.

He loves dinner, he’s beyond thankful and even more so for dessert. She made homemade banana bread with the bananas they had, they were going to go bad if she didn’t. It wasn’t anything special but he acted like she made his whole day.

He helps bring all the dishes into the kitchen, standing beside her as she fills the sink with water, “do you have a towel? I could help dry.”

“I know where everything is, how about you wash and I dry?” She compromises with a smile, and he’s more than happy to oblige.

She learns a little about him, he’s kind and friendly and he seems to crave the feeling of family that being in her home provides. He doesn’t want to stop washing dishes because then he has to go home, and he doesn’t look like he really wants to do that either.

“Do you need a ride home, Chip?” She asks as he lets the sink water out, “I was thinking about going to get some ice cream if you want to join me?”

“I would love to,” he smiles again, “thank you, Y/N.”

—

She understands everything when she drops him off at his tiny, little, run-down apartment; he’s going to be all alone as soon as he leaves her car and she hates that for him. He was so nice it was hard to believe that he didn’t have a nice partner and a house and kids by now.

“I wouldn’t mind if you came over for dinner after all your shifts with my dad? Just text me before so I make enough dinner?” She offers with butterflies swarming in her stomach.

“You’re too kind to me,” he replies, unable to meet her eyes as she turns to him.

“I just want more time to look at you,” she teases, “you’re really handsome.”

He lights up, “you think so?”

She nods with a small laugh, pushing air through her nose as she leans in more, “and you’re nice and funny, and your voice is cute.”

He’s stunned as his eyes flick back and forth from hers to her lips, his lips are parted as he tries to breathe but fails, he looks like no one has ever told him that before.

“Are you working with my dad tomorrow?” She changes the topic so that he can focus once more.

“I should be,” he replies just soft enough for her to hear.

“Would you like a sandwich for lunch? My dad said often the guys don’t bring that much with them to eat, I wouldn’t mind making you a sandwich too?”

She’s not sure why she feels the need to take him in and care for him but she does. She wants to wrap him up in a hug and make his meals and tuck him in at night. He just has this aura that calls for love and she desperately wants to give it to him.

He leans forward and kisses her, she kisses back instinctively and reaches to hold his face. His cheeks are soft as she runs her thumb along the skin, she pulls back only to press a few more pecks to his lips.

“You're something else,” he whispers against her lips before stealing another kiss.

He’s sweet, he tastes like vanilla ice cream and she just wants more. She kisses him again and again, eventually licking at his bottom lip and desperately whining to make out with him. She hasn’t felt this needy since she was a high schooler, but something in Chip made her feel alive.

She is leaning so far into his space she might as well get into his seat too. She moves to kiss his jaw and down his neck and he’s nothing but hands as he feels all over her back.

“Do you want to come inside?” He whispers, scared but just as desperate as she is.

“I shouldn’t,” she says before continuing her trail of kisses down his neck.

She can’t leave any marks because her father will know, but she also doesn’t care. He’d probably just give him a high five and move on with his day. She wanted to be even closer to him, she wanted to sit in his lap and kiss him for hours just because she could.

“We don’t have to do anything,” he tries to persuade her, “it just might be more comfortable for this?”

“Alright.”

He holds her hand on the walk up to his apartment, she likes how much he already feels like hers. He shows her inside and before the door is even closed she’s connecting their lips once again. He moans into her mouth at the feeling of his back colliding with the door and her hands are immediately roaming his shirt.

He’s such a good kisser, he is gentle and soft, he isn’t overly eager and controlling. He lets her explore and slow it down as she presses in closer to him and his hands wander to her hips. She places one of her thighs between his and grinds herself even closer to him.

He’s hard against her hip and the prospect of sleeping with him is so enticing but she knows she can't, at least not yet. It would be too quick, she wants to just appreciate him like this. Her kisses trail from his lips to his ear and he’s still a whining mess, but he’s completely still as she sets the pace of her grinding. He’s not pushing her to do anything or move this along, he’s just letting her explore everywhere… he’s so different.

“I don’t want to have to do laundry tonight,” he whispers with a smirk, moving his hands down to block her from grinding on his erection anymore.

She just undoes his belt and pushes his jeans to the floor before resuming the same position as before, this time she pulls her dress up and rests the clothed tip of his cock in just the right spot under her.

He’s holding her closer again, his arms wrapping almost all the way around her as his big hands grab handfuls of her skin in a desperate attempt to be closer to her. She keeps kissing his neck, they’re more open-mouthed and breathy than she intends but he just feels so good under her.

No one has ever made her feel this desperate before, something about him made her want to devour him whole. His sounds were delicious, his skin even more so, she couldn’t help herself from nipping and sucking at his neck as he made more beautiful noises.

She was so close and she could tell he wasn’t far behind, “let go, Chip,” she whispers in his ear, “cum with me.”

She grinds down hard one final time and he’s a shaking, moaning mess. It’s the feeling of the wet patch in his underwear and the feeling of him shudder that sends her over the edge, panting into his neck as they hold each other close against the door.

He turns them around, taking her by the waist and manhandling her until she’s the one against the door. His lips are on her neck and it’s like his orgasm has only enticed him to go further, “you’re too good to me.”

“You deserve good things Chip,” she whispers as her hand comes up to grip his hair as he continues to kiss her neck.

“Let me say thank you,” he whispers as he drops to his knees and pushes her dress up as she reaches to pull it up for him.

She spreads her legs as he moves her panties to the side and dives in. Spreading her with two fingers he sucks her clit into his mouth first and she tugs on his hair so tight he moans against her. Sending another shockwave through her body as he built another orgasm up.

He’s so good with his mouth, her legs are quaking as she tries to stay standing against the door. She can feel him everywhere but it’s still not enough, she wants him deep inside of her but she knows it’s way too soon to even be doing this. She has never gone this fast with someone before but she couldn’t stop, he felt too amazing.

“Chip,” she chanted his name, tugging on his hair tighter to get him to moan against her and send her over the edge once again.

She ruts against his tongue, fucking his face as she rides it out and he is more than happy to keep going as long as she wants him to and it feels so good she might just stay there. But the twitches get too intense and the whine she makes lets him know she’s done as he kisses back up her body.

Supporting her against the door, he presses his body against her once more. Taller than her, he tilts her chin up so she can look him in the eyes, his chin and nose are glistening with her cum and somehow he’s still cute.

She kisses him on the lips quickly, “when I can feel my legs again, I need to head home.”

When she leaves, she just sits in her car for a few minutes as she settles even more. Then she heads to the grocery store on the way home to get nice things for his sandwich tomorrow, because any man who can make her cum twice in 10 minutes deserves the best sandwich.

—

Waking up at 6 in the morning to make sandwiches is normally a chore, she sometimes makes them the night before so she doesn’t have to worry and can sleep in, this morning she wants to put all the tender loving care into these lunches. Her dad has noticed, he’s eyeing her down from the living room as he has his morning cereal and she knows he wants to ask.

“I didn’t sleep with him if that’s what you’re wondering.” Her voice is just loud enough for him to shoot her a listening glance.

“Oh, but you’re making him a sandwich?”

“You should see his apartment complex,” her expression drops, “ and after the way he devoured dinner last night, I just knew he hasn’t been taken care of in forever. And he’s so nice?”

He smiles, “your mom did the same thing for me.”

“You’ve never told me the story,” she reminds him.

He gets up and walks over to the kitchen, leaning against the counter so they can look at each other. His expression is soft, he’s an overly kind man and it was the thing she loved most about him.

“Your grandfather and I worked at a company making refrigerators, I was new to the state and had nothing and so he brought me home for dinner,” he smiles at the memory.

“Her parents got divorced soon after and her mom was having trouble with the bills so I moved in and I helped, and every morning your mom woke up and she made me a sandwich as a thank you.”

“Oh,” she smiled at the recollection, they really were having the same little love story. “Well, I’m thinking about making fish for dinner, would you ask Chip if he likes it? I’ve invited him over for dinner after all his shifts with you.”

He laughs in a huff, he’s proud of her— and himself. He finally found a good one for her.

—

She outdoes herself for dinner. The food is amazing, the table is set, and she’s all dolled up for him. Her dad thinks it’s cute and he doesn’t mind being the third wheel, they all talk to each other like he’s been having dinner with them for years.

He helps clean up after dinner and her dad falls asleep watching Jeopardy in the living room like normal. She wraps her arms around his waist and rests her head on his back while he’s still doing the dishes, he’s still all sweat from work but she doesn’t care, she wants to give him a hug.

“What’s this for?” He whispers, placing a wet hand over hers on his stomach.

“Do I need a reason to hug you?” She counters.

“No,” he turns around in her grip so that he can give her a real hug. Wet hands on her back and everything.

She held him there, leaning against him as he leaned against the sink. His heartbeat was quick and he still smelled like sawdust and hard work, but he was warm and soft and it felt so right to just be there.

“Are you working with my dad tomorrow?”

“I will be for the rest of the month,” he confirms her hopes; he was going to be around often.

“Would it be alright if I asked you to stay the night?” She whispers incredibly soft for only him to hear.

He nods against her before taking her hand and leading her outside to the porch. They close the house door softly and then she’s back in his arms, “are you sure?”

She looks up at him and he’s even more beautiful today than he was yesterday, “I can take you back to your place to get some things? It would be nice to send you off to work in the morning.”

“You’ve decided that I’m yours now, haven’t you?” He teased her with a smile, perfectly fine with that.

She nods again, “you could move in tomorrow if you wanted, I’m not sure what’s possessed me to take you in like this, but I really don’t want to let you go.”

He delicately places his hands on her cheeks and pulls her into a kiss, it’s soft and short and he’s quick to look at her again.

“You can have me,” he whispers, “forever, if you want.”

It makes her laugh, “that's the sweetest con you know, you promise yourself to me forever and yet you have no idea if you can stay that long.”

He nods in agreement, “what if I promise my hardest to stay?”

“Okay,” she smiles again, leaning forward and kissing him again, finally.

—

The month is coming to an end and he’s slept beside her almost every single night, and even with that, they’re still taking it slow. They go on dates on the weekends, they make out in her car, he drives her to work, she kisses him at the door every morning he stays with them and they’ve done almost everything but have sex together.

They didn’t feel the need to yet, everything that was leading up to it was fun and interesting. She’s enjoyed sneaking around with him to get each other off back and forth, like an adult game of tag.

She’d blow him in the car on the way back to his apartment after dinner, or he’d come and pick her up after a shift at the diner only for them to end up making out in by the back door, and his hand always ended up in her panties. It was an interesting month of getting to know each other, but she wanted more now.

Her dad is going out of town on a fishing trip with his buddies this weekend, she’s booked time off and Chip has no idea what is in store for him. She plans a dinner, she gets all dressed up for him, there are candles and music and it’s perfect.

He’s amazed by the whole thing and she can really tell he’s been mostly alone for his whole life, he looks at a simple home-cooked meal like it was a million dollars and he was beyond grateful for everything. He almost cries he’s so thankful for the time and effort she puts into taking care of him.

He goes to pick up the plates and bring them to the kitchen as soon as their meal is over, “ah, ah, what do you think you’re doing?”

“Cleaning up for you?” Chip answers with a nervous tone that she hasn’t heard before.

“Don’t you want dessert?”

“I can bring it out for you, stay there,” he offers and then frowns when she stands anyway.

“You’re looking at it,” she whispers as she enters his space.

She takes the dishes from his hands and places them on the counter before wrapping her arms around him, “my dad isn’t going to be home until Sunday night.”

“Oh,” he whispers back before his hands reach for her ass and he’s picking her up.

Her legs wrap around his waist and she grips his shoulders for dear life as he hurries them up the stairs and towards her bedroom.

He’s incredibly strong for such a skinny guy, although he was filling out the longer he knew her. He makes it up the stairs and through her door as she gets a head start at kissing his neck until he has her pressed against the door.

“What’s with you and doors?” She teases as he rests her back on her feet, she draws him in closer to her so their chests are pressed together and she can look up into those sweet honey brown eyes.

“I’m just impatient.”

“Too bad, baby,” she teases, “I’m making you take your time with me tonight.”

“Yes ma’am,” he responded with a smirk, “I’m here to please you,” he whispered as he leaned in more.

Attaching his lips to her neck he kissed towards her ear, “to thank you,” he took a fistful of her hair and moved it out of the way before kissing down towards her shoulder. “To show you how much I appreciate everything you do for me.”

She pushed him back enough to get Chip to stop kissing her neck, instead, pressing her lips against his. Kissing him deeply before running her tongue across Chip’s bottom lip as a request to make out with him.

Making out with Chip was something she did often, yet it felt like not enough every time. His plump lips and velvety soft tongue, soft touches and rough stubble rubbing against her chin and cheeks.

He smelled like oak after a storm, it was warm and electric and delicious. She dipped her face into the curve of Chip’s neck and took a whiff before attacking him with open-mouthed kisses.

He giggled, his hands her hips now, the pads of his fingers going up and his nails trailing back down over the fabric of her dress, the perfect motion to make the hair on her body stand up.

She reaches for the hem of his shirt and pulls it up, separating from his neck so she had room to pull it off of him before reconnected their mouths. Kissing him deeply then pushing him onto the bed, watching Chip get comfortable before she crawled on top.

They wasted no time getting back into the groove of things, tongues clashing and hips grinding, soft moans in each other's mouths, hands roaming everywhere. She reached between them to undo his belt and the button of his jeans so his dick wasn’t rubbing against the zipper. Making out like that was some of the most fun she ever had, she could do it for hours on end.

She pulled back, kneeling above Chip, she grabbed his open belt and pulled it through all the loops and chucked it towards the floor. She massaged her hand over the bulge in his pants as she got closer to his crotch, watching as Chip threw his head back to moan.

She fiddled with the waistband, wanting to pull them down, Chip lifted his ass up ever so slightly for her to do so, she pulled his pants and boxers all the way off and threw them to the floor as well. Spreading Chip’s legs and taking him in her hand, finally. She dipped down ever so slightly and licked the tip and he let out a beautiful cry as his hips bucked. She loved his noises, she loved seeing what new ones she could make and he was more than willing to show her.

Chip gasped and reached out to grip her hair, she took that as an invitation to suck his dick, she wrapped her mouth around the tip, slipping her way down as far as she could go before bobbing back up. It was slow and sensual, she made sure to cover all of him; jerking what didn’t fit in her mouth, dipping down even further to kiss his balls and suck one into her mouth.

The people she’s been with before had never been reactive, they either gave her praise or roughly directed her deeper and deeper till she choked. Chip was different though, making soft noises that sounded like ‘yes’ and ‘god’, his little gasps and stutters of breath were the cutest things. It just encouraged her to do it more.

She pulled off, looking up at Chip who was just staring at her softly. If she knew anything about giving a blowjob she knew what her face probably looked like.. eyes blown out in passion and lips swollen bright red. It was a sight he loved to see, his hand slipped down to cup her cheek and then down to his chin where he used his thumb to brush her bottom lip.

“Beautiful,” he whispered.

She crawled back up and sat on his hips, taking the hem of her dress in her hands and pulling it over her head. She was wearing a nice matching underwear set for him, nothing too fancy because she knew it would just end up on the floor anyway.

She leaned back down, attaching their mouths once again, he wrapped his arms around her back and slowly rolled them over safely. Now on top of her, looking up into Chip’s eyes was a blessing. He blinked a few times, making sure it was real and he wasn’t dreaming that the most beautiful girl in the world was looking at him like that.

“What do you want me to do?” He asked gently with pleading eyes that let her know he was desperate to touch her however she pleased.

“Make me yours, Chip.”

“I think you always have been,” he replied.

His beautiful sweaty curls drooping over his eyes, she smiled as she brushed them back. Petting his face softly as she looked at him, he was so beautiful. The light was bouncing off the wall just enough to illuminate him.

“How do you want to do it?” She whispered.

“Let’s just go where the rhythm takes us,” Chip’s voice dropped low as he did, pressing their chests together, close enough to kiss as he rubbed their noses together softly.

She kissed him, wrapping her hands around his neck and pulling him in more. He squeezed his arms between her back and the mattress, wrapping himself around her. he decided to reach into her panties with his free hand.

He took a moment to admire her chest, she had caught him staring before. He constantly used them as a pillow, he wanted to touch them so badly, so she leaned forward and let him unhook her bra. Pulling it from her body and towards the floor.

She could sense his hesitation, taking both his hands off her sides and guiding them to her breasts. He whimpered as he felt them, she closed her eyes at the feeling. A small moan escaping her lips as he groped her. His big hands felt amazing, so strong and gentle, rough and yet soothing. Perfection against her skin.

She leaned back against the bed then, leaving him sitting up on her hips. Her boobs flattening out into a funny shape as she laid back, making her smirk in embarrassment. Only making Chip love them more, diving in and kissing the newly exposed skin.

He dragged his bottom lip over her skin between kisses. Leaving a trail of where he’s been already. She had a hand in his hair, holding it out of his face as she watched him.

Panting as she tried to grind up against him, the arousal in her core was overpowering. She needed to feel more, she wanted all of him. She was addicted to him already, hoping she’ll have forever with him.

She was too hot, feeling the sweat gather behind her knees as she tried to find more friction against him. She didn’t mind all the exploring he was doing, it was a wonderful appetizer, but she was nowhere close to being full.

He pulled back then to sit on his knees between her legs before Chip slowly slipped her underwear off. Raising her hips softly before resting her ass back in his lap and spreading her legs.

Fully on display for him, she played with her nipples slightly. Knowing how much he loved her boobs, watching her with a slack jaw as his hands ran up her legs.

He snapped back into the moment when she pushed her ass down against him, a whimper slipping past his lips as he placed his thumb on her clit, rubbing gentle circles into the bundle of nerves.

With his pointer finger, on the other hand, he traced around her entrance, not pushing in, just exploring the wetness as it dripped out. She tightened up on command, seeing his breath hitch as his finger almost slipped in.

“Please?” She begged, arching her back more so that he could finger her.

“Can we try something?”

“Yeah,” she nodded, resting on her forearms as she leaned forward.

“If I lay back would you, um,” he couldn’t say the words. They felt too filthy leaving his mouth, pointing at his face instead.

She sat up then, pushing him back against the pillows and settling herself over his chest and gripping the headboard for support, Chip wrapped his arms around her hips and guided her forward more.

Her legs were already trembling in anticipation as she hovered over his face, feeling his breath right on her core, Without warning, he sucked her clit into his mouth.

“Fuck,” she gasped as she smacked her forehead against the blocked window behind her bed, hoping to god no one could see through the blinds.

He pushed one finger in as his tongue played with her clit. She couldn’t help rocking her hips against his face, helping him get deeper inside of her. He curled his finger, lightly fucking her with it as he sucked, licked, kissed her pussy.

She was a mess, shaking over top of him as she tried to keep her orgasm in. Not wanting to cum yet, wanting to feel all of him inside of her before she did that. So he added a second finger, making her cry out in pleasure against the window without even trying.

Her orgasm ripped through her as she fucked his face, holding his hair with one hand as the other steadied her on the headboard. She couldn’t believe how intense it was, almost knocking the wind out of her as she road it out on his tongue.

He smiled against her, kissing her clit once more before pulling out and helping her back towards his lap. She wasted no time hovering over his cock as it strained on his stomach.

“Do you want to?” She asked, trying to control her breathing but still looking like a panting mess as she anticipated him.

“I’ll always want you,” he assures her with the sweetest smile.

She wraps her arms around him and rolls them over once more, he adjusts between her legs and drags himself along her overstimulated clit, she shudders at the feeling and then laughs at her own reaction.

“Ready?” He whispered.

She nodded, feeling Chip push in, she reached for his hands where they rested on her hips and interlocked their fingers. He bottomed out and dropped to hover over her, bringing their interlocked hands over her head.

She reached up to kiss him, Chip pushing into the kiss and making her settle into the pillow once again. It honestly felt like a movie scene, a first time between two star-crossed lovers. He pulled out ever so slightly before thrusting in again, she gasped against his mouth.

Chip trusted more while she pushed her hips into it as well, an offbeat rhythm developed in pure ecstasy. She let go of Chip’s hands to snake them around his waist, to run her fingers over the soft and slightly chilled skin of his back. Feeling the bump of his spine as Chip ducked into the crook of her neck, placing kisses along her collarbone.

Chip changed the position of his thrust as he wrapped his arms under her, arching her back ever so slightly to reach the bundle of nerves that left her a quivering mess. Y/N, in response to the added pleasure, ran her sharp nails down Chip’s back and he groaned at the feeling, “do that again.” he requested.

“Like that?” She asked, dragging his nails down him once more.

“Yeah,” Chip moaned, dark and deep.

The feeling of pure bliss overtook her body with each thrust, warm chills ran through him with each brush of his thumb on her clit. Every kiss to her neck and squeeze around her waist made her feel like she was on fire.

The hairs on her arms stood up, goosebumps formed along his forearms. Chip kissed from her neck to her nipple and took the hard nib into his mouth causing her to moan like she never had before.

“Chip,” she panted, pulling Chip’s face back up to his.

His eyes were absolutely blown out in pleasure, those golden wonders he used to stare into were now replaced solely by the pupils. She ran her thumb across Chip’s cheek before reaching to the nape of his neck to pull him into another kiss. Open mouths pressing together, hot air on each other's faces as they panted to the pleasure.

She was in heaven.

Her orgasm bubbled in her stomach, “are you close?” Chip whispered right beside her mouth, kissing her cheek lightly after.

She hummed, unable to speak with the mass amount of pleasure coursing through her body. Chip fucked into her a bit harder, a tiny bit faster, hitting her g-spot dead on each time to the point the nerves in her thighs were quaking uncontrollably.

She was so close, Chip used 3 fingers to quickly rub over her clit before she threw her head back with a shout. Cumming with her eyes pressed shut, pleasure coursed through her body stronger than she’s ever felt it before.

Nothing had ever made her cum that hard, ripping through her like her soul was leaving her body. She dug her nails deep into Chip’s skin holding him close to his body while he kept thrusting.

A high-pitched gasp left his lips, close to her ear as his hips sputtered into her’s one last time.

She still hadn’t opened her eyes, her breath rigid, she felt winded. Chip had stilled as he came inside of her and then collapsed into her, deadweight laying on her.

Chip mustered enough energy to prop himself upon his arm and look at her. Using his free hand he ran his thumb against her bottom lip once more to get her to open her eyes.

“Hi,” he whispered.

“Hi,” she replied with a smile.

“You okay?” he asked.

She nodded, smile growing, “that was amazing.”

“Better than you hoped?”

“I’ve thought of doing this for the last month, I knew it would be amazing but I never imagined it would be that good.” she complimented Chip, “I think I died when I came, no joke.”

He laughed, dropping himself back into the crook of her neck. He kissed her more, up to her ear and across her jaw to her lips. Soft small kissed followed by a long-drawn-out one. Chip pulled their lips apart with a smack.

“Let me clean us up,” he said.

At that moment she realized Chip was still in her, soft and all. He pulled out slowly it was always such a weird feeling to be empty again. He sat up and made his way off the bed, he went to her bathroom.

Coming back still naked, his dick bobbing between his legs, she loved the view. He had a thing of baby wipes with him, knowing exactly where she kept everything in her bathroom by now.

“I can do it,” she suggested, reaching for them.

Chip pulled them back away from her, “I want to.” he said softly.

Running the cold wipe over her soft skin, Chip looked mesmerized. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered.

“Thank you,” she replied with a shy smile, “can you come back up here now?”

He tossed the wipes onto her night table and cuddled right back into her naked body, she held onto him tightly so he wouldn’t escape. She knew he wouldn’t, but she loved him so much she never wanted to let go.

“I love you, Y/N,” he whispered into her neck. “It’s okay if you don’t feel the same yet.”

“Are you kidding?” She laughed, pulling back so she could see his face as he looked up at her. “I think I’ve been in love with you since you walked in and said I was beautiful.”

He reaches for her cheeks and pulls her in for another kiss, “I’m going to love you forever.”

The words used to scare her, but now she looks at him and thinks they might be right for them.

“Forever it is, then.”

taglist: @g0lden-cth @doctorspenceryeet @samuel-de-champagne-problems @reiding-recs @shemarmooresfedora @spencers-dria@reidsfish @manuosorioh @mochionly @jswessie187 @k-k0129 @calm-and-doctor @blanchardsbk @thatsonezesty13

[criminalmindzjunkie]

Reassurance

masterlist

part one

Summary: Spencer feels insecure, and Reader puts his worries to rest. 

A/N: I got several requests to write a follow-up to Avoidance , and after writing almost the whole entire thing, only to scrap it all because it was literal trash, here we are! I initially planned to go a different route with this, but it didn’t flow right and I ended up changing the entire plot line somewhere along the way. I really like how this turned out, and I hope you guys enjoy it, too!

Pairing: sub!Spencer/femdom!Reader

Content warnings: cursing, Spencer being insecure, hand job, oral sex (male receiving), anal fingering, pegging, light degradation, Spencer experiencing sub-drop

Word Count: 6k

           Spencer’s lips drag against mine at a slow, deliberate pace as I sit perched on his lap, my hands tugging lightly at where his hair curls at the nape of his neck. One particularly harsh tug has Spencer gasping into my mouth and tightening his grip on my hips, pulling me down until I’m fully sat on his lap. The bulge tenting his slacks comes in full contact with my clothed core and I hum appreciatively against his lips.

           “Getting excited there, baby?”

           Spencer lets out a whine of protest when I pull away, leaning forward in an attempt to reunite our lips. I press my hand flat against his chest and push him back until he rests against the couch cushions.

           “I thought you wanted to watch a movie tonight?” I ask him, my lips curled up into a knowing smile. Spencer’s thumbs begin to rub soothing circles into my hips as he fixes me with a shy smile.

           “Maybe later,” he replies, sheepish. He looks breathtaking - bathed in the soft glow of the lamp light, shadows dancing across every perfectly chiseled inch of his face. Faint purple bruises dot the underside of his jaw line, remnants of the last time we had been afforded enough time to get tangled up under the bedsheets. I press my thumb to one of them, applying just enough pressure to cause Spencer’s breath to hitch. In another day or two, the purple and yellow discoloration would be gone, leaving no trace of our time together.

           I release my hold on his jaw and make a mental note to see to it that he has another set of pretty marks before the weekend is over.

           “Later?” I lift the hand that was splayed across his chest until I’m able to fiddle with the top button on his dress shirt. “You talk as if you have something else you’d like to do first. Care to share?”            Spencer squirms underneath my gaze, eyes flitting between my lips and where I’m pressed firmly against his erection. I watch him flounder to come up with a response before deciding to forgo words completely and rut himself against me, eyelids fluttering closed as he lets out a low whine.

           I click my tongue at him and raise up until my center hovers over him, torturously close but not quite close enough to touch.

           “What’s the matter, Doctor? It’s not like you to be at a loss for words,” I taunt as I pop open the last three buttons of his shirt. Now that the milky white skin of his chest is on full display, I waste no time in dragging my fingernails from his collarbone down to his navel, light and teasing. The action elicits a shiver from Spencer, who looks up at me with glossy eyes and blown pupils.

           “P-Please,” he stutters out.

           “Please, what?” I prod, cocking my head to the side. “Tell me what you want, baby.”

           Spencer’s tongue pokes out to run across his bottom lip.

           “I want you,” he breathes out, low and sultry. “Now. Don’t wanna wait.”

           I let out a pleased sigh as I lean forward to capture Spencer’s lips in a heated kiss. Spencer’s quick to reciprocate, eagerly licking into my mouth as soon as my lips brush against his.

           It’s not long until I feel the hands on my waist begin to tug me back down onto his lap, eliciting a giggle from me.

           “Such a needy little thing,” I murmur against his lips.

           Usually, a comment like this would be met by some sort of mumbled affirmation. But this time, as soon as the words leave my mouth, I feel Spencer’s whole body tense up beneath me.

           “Does… Does that bother you?”

           I pull away and give Spencer an inquisitive look.

           “Does what bother me?”

           Spencer averts his eyes, “That I’m so submissive.” He spits the word out like it burns his mouth – like it’s something to be ashamed of – and I can’t suppress my frown.

           “Why would that ever bother me?”

           Spencer gives a feeble shrug of his shoulders, still refusing to pull his gaze from where it rests on the floor.

           “I read an article in Psychology Today that discussed a survey in which 172 German adults completed a personality questionnaire and then measured their own preference for a dominant partner. Not only was the general consensus that both genders prefer dominant partners, the participants also agreed with statements like ‘a very nice partner is often boring’ and ‘I feel attracted to assertive partners.’ So, it’s only natural that you might get tired of me always being such a pushover and search for a more exciting partner than can keep you stimulated-”

           I clamp my hand down on Spencer’s mouth, effectively ending his self-deprecating rant and forcing him to look up from where his eyes were burning a hole into the floor. When I know he isn’t going to try and continue down that particularly awful train of thought, I remove my hand.

           “First of all, you are not a pushover. Insinuating that you are a pushover would also be insinuating that I’m taking advantage of you. Do you feel like I’m taking advantage of you?” Spencer’s eyes grow wide and he frantically shakes his head.

           “Absolutely not. I… I love what you do to me – with me. What we do together. I-I just want to be sure that you like it to. That you’re not just humoring me until someone who can actually give you what you want comes around.”

           I feel my mouth fall open from shock somewhere during the middle of his spiel. He can’t actually be so oblivious to the fact that I enjoy the hell out of our sex life, can he?

           Apparently, he can and he is, because Spencer takes my silence as affirmation.

           “I could try? To d-dom you, that is. I’ve been reading up on it and-”

           “Spencer, where on earth did this come from?”

           Spencer blinks hard, “I told you – I read it in Psychology Today.”

           I shake my head at him and slip off of his lap and onto the couch cushion beside him.

           “No, that’s not what I meant. What made you think that I’m not happy with our sex life?”

           “N-Nothing in particular,” Spencer stammers. “I just know that I’m not exactly the most masculine guy, and I want to make sure that you’re, you know… happy. With me.”

           And there it is.

           I reach for Spencer’s hand and link our fingers together.

           “This wouldn’t have anything to do with that comment Derek made this morning, would it?” Spencer doesn’t answer, but the way his eyes drop to his lap tells me everything I need to know. I tighten my grip on his hand. “You know he was just messing with you, right? As out of line as it was, he was just being… Derek.”

           “He wasn’t wrong, though. I am extremely docile – along with a litany of other very passive traits. I’m not strong or assertive or confident like Derek; I’m basically the complete opposite of the ideal male partner. All I’m good for is spouting out information that’s only sometimes useful. No wonder you don’t want to-” Spencer clamps his mouth shut and his cheeks burn red. ���Forget it. C-Can we pretend this conversation never happened?”

           “No wonder I don’t want to what?” I prod, brows furrowed in confusion. But still, Spencer refuses to meet my eyes. “And as far as all the other stuff goes, it doesn’t matter if you’re assertive or strong. I prefer my sweet, gentle boy over guys like Derek Morgan, any day. My ideal male partner just so happens to be pretty boys with curly brown hair and massive IQs, not aggressive alpha males with overinflated egos.” I bring Spencer’s hand up to my lips and place a gentle kiss on his knuckles. “I’m being serious, Spence. There’s a lot to love about you.”

           Spencer’s next words are hushed, so quiet that I almost don’t hear him when he says, “Then why haven’t you told anyone about us yet?”

           In the two months since our first time together, neither of us had been brave enough to broach the subject of what exactly we were doing. With neither of us quite sure how to go about defining the relationship, we’d fallen into a sort of routine. Whenever it came time to pair off for the night and retreat to our hotel rooms, Spencer and I always made sure that we were paired together. Hotch never seemed to care – he was just happy that we weren’t walking on eggshells around each other anymore - and the others were kind enough to keep their suspicions to themselves. On the weekends, or really any time that we weren’t working a case, time off was spent in each other’s company, be it at Spencer’s place or mine. Days full of impromptu adventures to farmer’s markets and niche antique shops devolved into passionate nights spent learning every inch of each other’s skin until no stone was left unturned. It was the perfect arrangement.

           Or at least it would’ve been, if Spencer and I hadn’t managed to fall half way in love somewhere along the way. It was glaringly obvious early on that it was way more than just sexual chemistry that kept us both coming back for more, but owning up to that fact was a whole other issue that neither of us was ready to deal with.

           Until now, apparently.

           “I-I mean, we haven’t talked about what exactly this is, so I wasn’t quite sure how to go about that,” I stammer. “But now that you’ve brought it up…”

           Spencer finally looks up and his eyes are filled to the brim with equal parts fear and hope.

           “I-I really want there to be an us,” he whispers. “I kind of thought that much was obvious.”

           “And I thought the fact that I have absolutely zero complaints in the bedroom was obvious, but here we are,” I tease, and Spencer lets out an involuntary giggle when I poke at his side. “I want there to be an us, too. And for what it’s worth, I like you just the way you are, Spencer Reid - just so we’re clear.”

           “Really?” Spencer persists. From anyone else, it would seem like they were fishing for compliments, but from Spencer? I knew my sweet, darling boy just needed some reassurance.

           I lean forward and capture his lips in a long, languid kiss.

           “Really really,” I mumble when I pull away. “Have I done a thorough enough job drilling that into your head, or do you need some more convincing?”

           “More convincing,” Spencer replies as he ducks in for another kiss. “Lots and lots of convincing.”

           I smile against his lips, “That’s good to hear, because I sorta had a little something special planned for you.”

           “Something special?”

           I slide my hand from its place on his knee until my fingers glide across the tip of his clothed cock.

           “Remember that thing we talked about last week?”

           I can feel the way Spencer’s cock twitches under my hand and I have to bite back a smile.

           “Y-Yeah?”

           I give his bulge a light squeeze that has Spencer moaning low in his throat.

           “Only if you want to. There’s no pressure at all. I don’t want to do anything you’re not comfortable with. I’d be perfectly fine if you just wanna watch that movie and cuddle a bit - you know that right?”

           “Yes, but I still want to,” Spencer chokes out. “Very, very much.” And then he’s bringing a hand up to cup my face before slotting our lips together again.

           The kiss is sloppy, seeing as we’re both much too excited to worry about being precise. Spencer spends time exploring my body with his free hand, starting at my hips and then dipping underneath my t-shirt. Spencer’s hand is just shy of skimming over my bra when I pull back and he lets out a frustrated whine when I pull his hands off of me.

           “I wanna ask you a few things before we do this, okay, baby?” Spencer flushes a deep crimson as he nods. “Have you ever experimented with any sort of anal play before?”

           “N-No, I haven’t. Is that okay?”

           Spencer Reid, you are going to be the death of me.

           “That’s perfectly fine, sweet boy,” I coo. “I’m just trying to get a feel for what’s going to be the most comfortable for you. We’ll start small and work our way up, okay?” Spencer nods, prompting me to tack on an, “Assuming that you want to, that is. This is all on your terms, and I need to make sure that you know that nothing’s going to happen that you don’t expressly consent to first.”

           Spencer’s lips pull up into a sweet smile.

           “I know, and I trust you,” he says. “And I consent to it. To all of it.”

           “You’re gonna have to be a little bit more specific than that,” I chuckle. “What exactly are you consenting to?”

           Spencer shifts in his seat, “Y-You know.”

           “Yes, but I want to hear you say it, baby.”

           Spencer gulps hard, “I-I want you to fuck me. Please.”

           I let out a satisfied hum and remove my hand from Spencer’s lap.

           “I want you to go to the bedroom and take off all your clothes. Then I want you to lie in the center of the bed and if I walk in and see you touching yourself, I’ll walk right back out and I won’t touch you for a month. Are we clear?”

           “Y-Yes, Miss.”

--

           I spend much longer than necessary in the living room, sitting on the couch and scrolling through my phone for nearly ten minutes before getting up and making my way to the bedroom. The anticipation is half of the fun, in my opinion, and I take great pleasure in imagining Spencer squirming against the sheets, desperate for me to walk through that door.

           I rid myself of my skirt and blouse as I make my way down the hallway, leaving me in only my panties and bralette. I can hear Spencer’s heavy breathing before I even reach the bedroom, and it makes my stomach flip excitedly as I push open the door.

           Spencer lays in the middle of the bed, hands grabbing at the sheets as he rolls his hips in vain. His cock stands painfully hard, leaking precum and bobbing up and down with every motion of his hips. Spencer doesn’t see or hear me when I come in – his eyes are closed tight and his bottom lip is nestled between his teeth, blissfully oblivious as he ruts up into nothing.

           “It seems like my poor, needy boy has worked himself up into quite a state.”

           The sound of my voice startles him and he immediately halts the movement of his hips. Spencer’s eyes watch on and I walk over to the night stand, taking my time as I remove a bottle of lube, my harness, and the newly purchased dildo bought especially for my sweet boy.

           Spencer’s eyes linger on the silicone member, wide and curious as I set the items on the bed and crawl in between his legs. He spreads his legs without being prompted, leaving him completely exposed to me, and the action makes my heart swell with pride. My good boy has learned so much in the past two months.

           “M’gonna suck that pretty cock of yours now, and I want you to keep your hips still. Can you do that for me, baby?”

           Spencer nods frantically, “Y-Yes, Miss. Please – I need your mouth. I’ll be still, I promise.”

           I let out a pleased hum as I take him into my hand, dragging my fist up and down, spreading precum across the entirety of his length.

           “I know you will, baby. You’re always so good for me. So eager to please.”

           I lean down and begin placing kisses to the sensitive skin of his thighs, all while continuing to work my hand against him. I nip lightly at the skin above his right hip and Spencer sucks in a ragged breath when I suck a pretty purple bruise in the very same spot. It contrasts starkly with his porcelain skin, and I enjoy the way it looks so much that I continue until a plethora of love bites litter his inner thighs. When I finally sit back and admire my work, Spencer’s writhing so pitifully against the mattress that I decide to put him out of his misery.

           Spencer devolves into a whimpering mess the moment I take his tip into my mouth, his head thrashing wildly against the mattress when I swirl my tongue around him. I take my time with him, not at all rushing my descent onto his cock, choosing instead to tease him with a slow, steady pace. If Spencer minded my slower than usual pace, he didn’t say so. He was too busy choking out an unrelenting string of the most wanton moans I’d ever heard as he watched himself disappear into my mouth.

           I decide now is as good a time as any to up the ante and I pull my mouth away from him.

           “W-Why did you stop?” Spencer stutters, chest heaving up and down.

           I raise an eyebrow at him, “Are you being ungrateful, Doctor? Because if you are, I could always just leave you here like this - cock hard and leaky with no way to get off other than your own hand. That wouldn’t be nearly as fun as having me fuck that pretty little ass of yours.”

           “No, please! I’m so sorry,” Spencer mewls. “I’ll be good, just please don’t leave!”

            I loosely grasp Spencer’s cock in my hand and run my thumb across his slit.

           “You sound so pretty when you beg, baby. I can’t wait to hear how pretty you are when you’re begging for me to fuck you harder.”

           Spencer’s eyes roll back into his head and his mouth hangs open, panting hard.

           “I want it so bad. Please, please, please, Miss.”

           I use my free hand to reach up and push two fingers into Spencer’s mouth, “Suck. I want them real nice and wet so that I can use them to get you ready for me.”

           Spencer moans around my fingers, laving his tongue around the them as he hollows his cheeks. When I retract my fingers from his mouth they’re practically dripping and I reward his effort by tightening my grip on his cock.

           “Good job, baby. Are you ready for me to finger that tight little hole of yours?” I ask him as I release his cock and grab the bottle of lube. I drizzle a healthy amount onto my fingers before dragging one across his puckered hole, eliciting a high-pitched cry from Spencer.

           “Yes!” Spencer gasps as he attempts to wiggle closer. “So ready for you, Miss. Use your f-fingers on me, please!”

           I start by slowly pressing one in, so as not to overwhelm him, and to my endless delight, it glides in almost effortlessly.

           “Already so ready for my fingers, Doctor. You sure you haven’t touched yourself here before?” I ask as I begin to work my finger in and out in slow thrusts.

           “N-Never. O-Only you,” Spencer stutters out between moans. “C-Can you add another, Miss?”

           I pull my finger out, only to add another and resume my efforts at a slightly faster pace. Spencer’s back arches up off the bed when my fingers brush against his prostate and he lets out a half startled, half delighted yelp.

           “Oh fuck!” Spencer moans as he grinds down onto my fingers. “Again, please, Miss!”

I comply, and with every press of my fingers against the fleshy bundle of tissue, Spencer’s body jolts from the sensation.

           “S’that feel good, baby? Do you like how my fingers feel?”

           “Oh, God, yes! F-Feels so good. Never felt like this b-before,” Spencer sobs. “I-I’m getting close, Miss.”

           “I didn’t say that you can cum, baby. I wanna save that for when I’ve got my cock buried inside you. How’s that sound?”

           “Y-Yes, Iwantitsobad,” Spencer slurs, his words running together as he draws nearer and near to the end. “Want you to fuck me, Miss! Please, I’ll do anything-”

           I take pity on him and withdraw my fingers, which makes Spencer keen in protest.

           “Calm down, greedy boy. Just gotta get ready so I can give you what you want.”

           I crawl off of the bed and step into the harness, fastening it in place and making sure that the dildo is secure before I crawl in between his legs. Spencer watches on with rapt fascination as I pour lube into my palm and work it over the silicone cock until every inch of it glistens.

           “What’s your color, baby?” I ask as rub the tip of the cock over his hole.

           Spencer’s breath catches in his throat and his whole-body tenses with anticipation.

           “So green, Miss. So fucking green,” Spencer whimpers.

           I raise a hand up to his hip and begin to rub soothing circles into the skin there.

           “Gonna need you to relax for me, sweetheart. Can you do that?”            Spencer bites his lip and nods his head. I watch as the tension begins to melt away, and when I see him relax back into the mattress, I bring up my hand to stroke his cock. I keep my touch light, barely applying pressure – I knew if I applied too much, Spencer wouldn’t be able to hold out longer than a few thrusts. He was already teetering on the edge as it was.

           Mine and Spencer’s eyes meet and he smiles up at me, dopey and drunk from pleasure, and it’s all the permission I need. I press into him slowly, and I’m left in awe as I watch Spencer Reid completely unravel beneath me.

           “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” Spencer curses, head flying back and hitting the pillows. It never ceases to amaze me at how fucking responsive he is, and tonight is no exception. It’s like his body is a live wire, trembling beautifully as I press in further and further and further. I stop just shy of being fully sheathed inside him, trying to allow him a moment to adjust, but Spencer seems to have other plans.

           “Keep going, Miss, don’t stop, please! I want all of it, please give it to me! I can take it, please let me show you!”

           He looks up at me and those beautiful brown eyes are so wild, so positively feral that I can’t even entertain the idea of denying him any longer.

           Spencer looks positively ruined by the time I bottom out inside him. His hair sticks to the sheen of sweat that gathers on his forehead, and his lips look positively abused from the way he’s been biting down on them. His eyelids flutter closed every few seconds, and every time he blinks them back open, I’m able to see that his pupils are so blown that his eyes look almost black.

           I pull back until all that’s left inside him is the very tip of the cock, and just as he opens that bratty little mouth to beg for more, I give particularly harsh thrust of my hips until I’m fully sheathed inside him. Spencer lets out a surprised cry as I set an unforgiving pace, all the while still loosely jerking him off as I bury myself inside him again and again and again.

           “Yes, yes, yes, yes!” Spencer chants loudly, face contorted beautifully in an expression of pure ecstasy. I spare a brief thought to Spencer’s poor neighbors and make mental note to invest in a ball gag.

           “S’that feel good, baby? You look so pretty taking my cock like the good boy you are. My pretty little cock slut. Such a shame nobody’s fucked you like this before,” I hum as I focus my attention on the head of his cock, thumbing lightly at where he leaks for me.

           “D-Don’t want anyone else, just wanna be good for y-you. Wanna m-make you proud,” Spencer whines, tripping over his words as he struggles to form a coherent sentence. The sentiment sends a jolt of heat down to my already soaking core, but I do my best to ignore the slickness running down my thighs for the time being. Right now, my only focus is the boy chanting my name, praying for a type of salvation that only I can give him.

           I smile down at him and my hand drifts lower to where I’m steadily thrusting in and out of him. Spencer’s body jolts as the pad of my thumb brushes against the sensitive skin of his hole.

           “Of course, I’m proud of you. Look at how well you’re taking me, baby. It’s like you were made to take my cock,” I praise him.

           My words, mixed with the way I’m working both Spencer’s cock and his tight little ass, seem to be getting the better of him, because Spencer doesn’t even try to formulate a response. He just continues to let out strangled moans that almost sound like sobs as his hands grasp at the sheets until his knuckles turn white.

           It doesn’t take long until I feel the muscles in Spencer’s stomach and thighs begin to tense, and when his cock twitches in my hand I can tell Spencer won’t last much longer.

           “Are you gonna cum for me, baby?” I ask him as I grind my hips against his, and Spencer’s reply comes in the form of an incoherent, garbled moan.

           “What’s the matter, baby? Have I fucked you so stupid that you can’t answer me anymore?” I taunt him. I use the leverage I have from the hand placed on his hip to propel myself deeper. “Is my poor dumb baby incapable of replying?”

           Spencer makes a feeble attempt at a reply, “P-Please let me – f-fuck – cum! Oh, God, m’socloseMiss. Harder, please!”

           I take a minute to bask in the way he’s completely fallen apart at my hands - relishing in the way his eyes are glossy and dark with lust, in the way that his chest is flushed a deep red, and in the way that precum beads at the tip of his cock, aching for a release. He looks beautiful like this, whining and squirming, hips grinding down in search of more, more, more. I’d never imagined in a million years that I’d be so lucky as to see the illustrious Spencer Reid fucked absolutely senseless, but here he was, waiting for my permission to throw himself off the edge and into the best kind of oblivion.

           “Cum for me, pretty boy,” I say in the softest voice imaginable. “Show me how good you are.”

           The tension that had been steadily building since the first press of my lips against his snaps in an instant, and copious amounts of cum spurt out from his cock, painting his chest in thick, white ropes. Spencer chants out muddled thank yous as I fuck him through his release, pushing in and out of him in shallow strokes as slowly comes back down from the high.

           When his breathing slows down to a normal rate, I pull out of him, quickly freeing myself from the harness and tossing it aside to be dealt with later. I crawl up until I’m at eye level and begin pressing soft, sweet kisses to Spencer’s face.

           “You did so well, Spence,” I murmur against his skin. “You’re amazing, baby. Thank you so much for trusting me to be with you like that.”

           Spencer lifts a shaky hand to my hair and pulls me down into a heated kiss. I indulge him and pour every ounce of passion I have into my efforts, hoping to express my gratitude with every swipe of my lips against his. And when I pull away, my pretty boy smiles up at me, sated and full of adoration, and it’s beautiful.

           “D’you think you can handle taking a shower with me?” I ask as I pull away, and Spencer gives a shy nod in response. He sits up in the bed and swings his legs until his feet hit the floor. I’m just about to stand when his hand comes down on my wrist to stop me.

           “What about you? You didn’t . . .”

           “Don’t worry about me, sweetheart. Tonight was all about you.”

           I move off of the bed and help him to his feet, holding him steady when his legs begin to shake. “Might be a little sore for a while, but it should go away within a day or so.”

           I help him to the bathroom and turn on the shower, and when it’s warm enough I rid myself of my bra and panties and motion for him to join me. I urge Spencer to step under the spray first, but his arms snake around me and pull me with him.

           Spencer nuzzles his nose into the crook of my neck and he lets out a deep sigh.

           “You okay, bubs?” I ask him as I tangle my arms around his torso and begin to rub soothing circles into his back.

           “I just feel a little… down? I-Is this a sub drop? I read a little bit about them, but I don’t k-know…” he trails off, sniffling pitifully against my neck. “I-I just know that I want to hold you. Is that o-okay?”

           My heart lurches painfully in my chest as his voice wavers, and I pull back just enough that I can look into his weary eyes.

           “Baby, that’s more than okay. Sub drops are a perfectly normal thing to experience, and I’ll be right here to hold you for as long as you need. I’m not going anywhere.”

           Spencer’s eyes fill with tears and he makes no attempt to hold them back, choosing to let them fall freely and mix in with the water pouring from the shower head.

           “T-Tell me you want me,” Spencer begs, lip wobbling pitifully. “I-I just feel like I’m not good enough for you, and I know it’s all in my head, and I know how you feel about me, but I just think it would help if you just… s-said it. Please?”

           I feel my heart break for the man that stood before me. The implication his words carry - that this wonderful, kind-hearted, extraordinarily gifted man could ever think so little of himself – was enough to bring tears to my own eyes. I swallow down the lump that forms in my throat and, with all the sincerity I can possibly muster, I reply.

           “I want you, Spencer Reid. I don’t want anyone else – only you,” I tell him, never once breaking eye contact. “For as long as you’ll have me, I’m yours.”

           Spencer chokes out a weak laugh, “And if I want you forever?”

           I nudge his nose with my own, and the act feels almost more intimate than everything that preceded it.

           “Then forever, it is,” I murmur. I press a chaste kiss to his lips before pulling away and reaching for the shampoo. “Now, turn around, pretty boy. Let me pamper you.”

--

           “Y/N!” Penelope calls out, sauntering over to me in a flash of hot pink taffeta. I’m in the middle of throwing my satchel over my shoulder when she runs up to me, excited smile on her face. “Me, you, JJ, Elle, and a bottle of tequila. You in?”

           On a normal day, the answer would have been a resounding hell yes. But today? I let my eyes wander over to where Spencer lingers near the glass doors, trying to look like he isn’t listening in. Very subtle.

           “I’m gonna have to pass on this one, Penelope.”

           Penelope’s smile transforms into a pout.

           “This is the third weekend in a row you’ve ditched us!” she whines, stomping her kitten heeled foot like a petulant child. “Either you’re avoiding us or you’ve got some secret lover we don’t know about. And if that’s the case, then we have a whole other problem, because that’s the kind of thing I expect to be told about immediately.”

           The giddy smile that stretches across my face gives me away before I even have the chance to open my mouth, sending Penelope into an absolute frenzy.

           “Oh my God, I cannot believe this. We’ll talk about how angry I am about being kept in the dark later because right now, I need details,” Penelope gushes. “Who is he? Where did you two meet? Is he hot?” Penelope barely gets the words out before she’s shaking her head. “Wait, that’s a dumb question. Of course, he’s hot - just look at you. Do I know him? When do I get to meet him?”

           I can’t help but laugh at Penelope’s enthusiasm.

           “Slow down, Pen,” I chuckle. “I didn’t tell you about it because it’s still relatively new, and it wasn’t until this past weekend that we finally decided to put a label on it.”

           “A label? Does that mean this guy is your boyfriend? Oh my God, I thought this day would never come,” Penelope sighs dreamily. But the far-away look in her eye quickly fades and Penelope begins to grill me with renewed fervor. “Y/N, you have to tell me who it is. It’s like, practically a crime that I’m only just now hearing about this, so you owe me this much. And I’ll be needing his first and last name, along with a DOB so that I can run a full back ground check ASAP. Don’t even try to talk me out of it – we deal with enough freakiness during our day jobs, and I insist on making sure the freakiness ends there.”

           I can feel a flush spread over my cheeks and I fiddle with the strap of my bag.

           “I, uh, don’t think a background check is going to be necessary. You know this guy pretty well already.”

           If Penelope had been worked up before, she was practically vibrating with excitement now.

           “I know him? Oh my God, this is so huge. Is it Brendon from down in sex crimes? Or maybe James from counter-terrorism?” Penelope muses aloud, before her eyes go almost comically wide. “Holy hell, it’s Anderson, isn’t it?”

           “It definitely isn’t Anderson, or any of the others, for that matter,” I laugh. “Do you want a hint?”

           “What I really want is for you to just tell me, but if you insist on dragging this out then yes, I would very much like a hint!”

           I cut my eyes over to where Spencer stands, and it’s impossible to miss the giddy grin on his face. So much for trying to remain subtle, Doctor Reid.

           I fake like I’m looking around for anyone within earshot before motioning for Penelope to lean in. She’s quick to comply, and I do one last exaggerated sweep of the room.

           “Alright then, here’s your hint,” I whisper into her ear. “He’s got an IQ of 187, and he’s a pretty kickass magician.”

           I lean back and adjust the strap of my bag, sparing one last, parting glance at Penelope, whose jaw is practically on the floor.

           “See you on Monday, Pen.”

           “W-Wait, are you serious?” Penelope calls out after me. “Reid is your mystery man?! Y/N, get back here right now and explain yourself! Derek, did you hear that?!”

           By the time I reach Spencer, Penelope’s voice fades into background noise as I focus all my attention on the way he smiles down at me. I link my hand with his and I’m vaguely aware of an increase in volume coming from Penelope’s direction, but I ignore in favor of smiling back at him.

           “You ready to get out of here, boyfriend?”

           Spencer squeezes my hand in his and he nods.

           “Ready when you are, girlfriend.”

-

-

-

taglist: @90spumkin​​ @moon-light-jukebox​​ @jessalyn-jpeg​ @pinkdiamond1016​​ @itsametaphorbriansblog​​ @eldahae​​ @itsmytimetoodream​ @kasaikawa​ @shadyladyperfection​

[keilemlucent]

mean to me

( r18+)

hawks | takami keigo x reader

ao3

word count: ~3.5k

daddy’s a bit mean

warnings: daddy kink, light bdsm in terms of dynamics, use of a safeword, spanking, light degradation, choking, a smidge of age play, subspace, aftercare 

...

oh, more daddy kink brain rot? nice. have a little snack, loves 💕enjoy!!

...

Keigo owned you, passively and completely. 

His hands settled on your hips far too easily, like they were made to lay along the curves of flesh. There might as well have been imprints of his slender fingers with the way they squeezed and held you as often as they did. You weren’t made in your shape for him, but rather he worked you into whatever form he wished. 

You loved every moment of it, love him.

Sat up in his lap with Keigo was upright as well, his wings remained tense and flattened against the headboard. They twitched every so often as your cunt fluttered around his cock, but his resolve remained firm and he remained largely still. 

“K-Keigo, please—“ Your voice wobbled as your fingernails dug into his shoulder.

He quieted you with a slap to your thigh.

“You can’t expect me to give in if you don’t even speak to me proper, right, little bird?” Keigo was obviously being harsh, this was a ‘punishment’ after all. Though, in many ways, it was more of a test of will for the both of you.

Keigo showed his own exertion and restraint on every facet of him. 

His muscles were bunched, poised and more than ready to pound you into oblivion (If only you’d been good that evening, but you hadn’t, hence why you were in the situation that you were).

His expression was desperate, but still so fucking smug. The quirk in his swear-coated brow spoke volumes about how smitten he was to keep you wanting and warm around his cock.

“You’re mean,” You tried to spit, but it left you as more of a whine. 

“Am I?” Keigo raised an eyebrow, tapping your cheek with a single finger, “I think you’ve earned this treatment.”

You definitely did, but you wouldn’t admit that to him.

Your thoughts had wandered all throughout the day to him, and it was only natural that you sent him at least a dozen very whorish photos of yourself in the new, big mirror Keigo had purchased for the two of you.

(Specifically for ‘fucking’ reason, but once again, besides the point.)

You sort of did deserve to be teased. The pictures were meant to work him up, but you hardly expected the treatment you were receiving. 

There was a wordless, nagging ledge in the back of your skull that kept you from finding a more comfortable, softened headspace, leading to any number of slipups.

Namely, referring to Keigo by his name and not the title he loved to brandish. 

“I’m sorry—“You started to say before Keigo moved his slender finger to your lips, slipping the digit into your mouth and pressing down on the flat of your tongue.

He went far enough back to gag you, tears welling at the corners of your eyes.

“‘I’m sorry’,” He mimicked, rolling his eyes before giving your cheek a few forceful pats. “Not gonna cut it. Apologies need to be genuine.”

He rubbed just below your eyes, smearing away any wetness and giving you a sinful grin, “You can’t just be a crybaby and expect me to give in. That’s not how this works.”

Sometimes, it did, notably. Keigo would crack on plenty of days if you got weepy, the reason didn’t matter too much. He only liked seeing you hurt if he had full control of the situation and could drag you back easily.

Your tears only egging on his insults. You tried to ignore the burning in your nose, sucking down any potential cries welling up in your throat.

You must’ve looked pitiful.

And Keigo must’ve loved it.

He was clearly in a particularly nasty mood, a bit more vindictive than a normal night.  Less softened and crueler.

A normal punishment would’ve been pulling you over his knee for a tender lesson that involved turning your ass hot and red. Maybe a bit of writing lines, a dash of extra chores (in that sinfully short and ruffled apron Keigo purchased for you) while he supervised and directed you as needed.

He’d never simply sat you on his cock and refused to move or let you move.

It felt a bit odd in your gut. 

If your mind had fallen deeper, you would’ve enjoyed this more. If your psyche had been floating as you both liked, his cruel words would’ve felt so fucking good, but at this point, you felt nothing but burning shame as you tried to hold yourself together beneath his words. 

Keigo noticed to some degree. He was so tuned to you and your body and expression, he could write a damn novel on the way each angle of your lips and crinkle of your eyes meant a different complex emotion.

And you had no doubt he could see you struggling with this punishment more than normal. 

You shifted your knees, trying to ease the ache of your burning thighs. It earned you a hard slap to your ass, one with enough force that Keigo had to brace your waist to keep you upright. 

“Behave,“ He warned, pulling his fingers from your lips to smear spit on your inner thighs, close enough to your pussy to make your breath hitch. 

You should’ve known not to try and defend yourself, “I wasn’t gonna—” 

“Nope, stop whining,” Keigo gave your thighs a series of sharp pinches and twists. “None of that, you aren’t getting shit.”

Keigo was being mean. 

So mean, it made your chest hurt.

Maybe you were slipping deeper, maybe not to the right place, as your head fell forward to his shoulder, a little weak attempt at hiding your budding, fatter tears. 

“P-please be nice,” Your whispered, hardly audible. “Please.”

Keigo clicked his tongue, slapping your already reddened ass, “Do you think you deserve me being ‘nice’?”

“I—“

You didn’t get a chance to answer as Keigo delivered a quick succession of spanks, all of which had you tensing around his cock and clutching at him and the headboard. Little cries and wails slipped from your slip-slicked lips, all falling on what you assumed were unhearing ears.

“You don’t deserve anything but this, little bird,” Keigo hummed. He punctuated his words with another stroke. “You just love being a little cocktease, isn’t this what you wanted? Sitting on my dick and having your fill?”

No, this wasn’t. You thought the handful of pictures you sent him, draped in one of his own shirts, would get you ponded into the mattress, not held on his cock without a hint of agency or kindness. 

Tears leaked from your eyes, even as you tried to wipe them away as fast as you could manage. 

His hand reared back, poised for another spank—

And you hurriedly gave him two firm and clear taps to his shoulder, “S-sunset, sunset.”

He froze mid-motion. 

“D-daddy, I’m s-sorry,“ You clung to his shoulder and rocked yourself. “It doesn’t f-feel good.”

You felt him take a few measured breaths, hand returning to your hips to press into any knots he could find. The deep inhales were surely meant to calm him from his own high. 

His entire mood shifted nearly instantly. Keigo jolted to rub at your lower back, up and down your spine. 

“No need to be sorry, dove,” He whispered, pressing a few kisses to the side of your head. “I’ve got you. Do you want to lay down?”

You shook your head, laying your hands over his, pressing them into your hips more firmly.

Keigo sweetened, even more, expression creasing with concern, “Can you tell me what doesn’t feel good?” 

“U-um,” You swallowed, withdrawing from the safety of his neck to meet his gaze. His pretty ambers were sharp, watchful, and immediately tender as they met your own. You licked your lips nervously, trying to find proper words, “Doesn’t feel... normal.”

“Does something hurt?” Keigo inquired, tucking some sweat-matted hair behind your ears. He dropped a few kisses around your face, stilling your both as was needed. 

You shook your head. 

“Not the right headspace?” Keigo asked, catching on quickly and speaking softly. 

You nodded, pressing your nose to his cheek, “Uh-huh.”

Keigo knew you better than you knew yourself in moments like this.

“I see why you didn’t appreciate me being so mean,” Keigo clicked his tongue, smoothing a hand over your naked waist.  “I’m sorry, little bird. Do you want to stop, or do you want me to help you?”

You thought for a moment, worrying your bottom lip.

“Can you h-help, daddy?” You kept your words as soft as you could. “I-I’ll be good this time, promise.” 

Keigo practically purred, content either way, but happy to help you settle. This was as much for you as it was for him. 

“You’re already good,” He shifted beneath you, some of his own bound up tension releasing, “Of course, little bird. I’ve got you now.”

There was an unspoken apology in words, one that was felt a moment later, as he pressed his lips to your, cupping your jaw with tender hands.

His thumbs wiped away any residual tears as you pressed closer, burying your hands in his hair. His feathers shifted and rippled nearby, his cock twitching inside you. 

“You hold on good to me, okay?” He murmured against your lips, holding you close as you massaged through his blonde waves. “Nice and tight, perfect.”

You nodded as if you’d ever let go.

Carefully, he repositioned the two of you. Your shaking thighs were given rest as he tipped you onto your back, helping you flatten atop the sheets. His cock remained buried, still hard, and somehow, Keigo’s will to not rail you remained intact.

It was surprising, given how impulsive he was so often was.

Then again, Keigo liked doing this, liked holding you close and tender while stroking the part of your mind that needed to feel smaller, weaker, and taken care of well and thoroughly. In turn, you held the part of his mind that desperately couldn’t stop taking care of others, that self-sacrificial nature that needed an outlet that was healthier than throwing himself at the evils of the world without pause. 

In the cultivated home you two had made, you cared for each other how the other needed.

“Here’s what I’m thinking,” Keigo hummed, hovering over you, splaying your legs out with wide palms. “You’re gonna listen really well, and I’ll let you have my cock like I’m sure you want, understand?”

You nodded, trying to muster up some self-confidence.

Keigo looked smitten with himself once more, though his features and poise were slack and gentle. Any of his earlier meanness had dissolved, tucked away for another night where you both could handle it.  

He nosed against your cheek, dragging his lips across your jaw to the shell of your ear. His hand drifted over your navel, higher to tease your yummy and then to your tits, twisting a nipple before he delicately laid his fingers, one by one, around your throat.

He gave a preliminary squeeze, watching your reaction. 

You swallowed around his hold, taking a shaking breath at the pressure.

“Does this feel nice, little bird?” 

“Uh-huh,” You nodded, his hold tightening a moment later. 

“Good, perfect,” Keigo grinned against your skin and nipped at your ear. “You’re doing so well.”

The simple praise made you shudder.

Keigo pressed his lips to your own, holding around your throat firmly and unwavering, throat, applying pressure just right to make your head spin.

The moment he pulled away, eyes shining, he let up.

You took sucked in a quick inhale, just before he kissed you again, repeating the pattern. Mounting, delicious pressure on your throat with each kiss, with just a moment or two or reprieve that he gave you.

It sank you perfectly. 

He kept at it, dragging you to arch underneath him with just kisses and tongue, pulling your breath from you with his hands and his own quiet groans.

If you tried to chase his lips, he easily pushed you back into the sheets, bearing down on you with the weight of his chest, wings fluffing up and fluttering. A quick nip or two had you lax into the mattress within moments.  

It was all so perfectly enough, your head spinning with each of his touches. 

And finally, he pulled away, both of your lips kiss-bitten and pupils wide and black.

“There we go,” He stroked the side of your face, kissing down your neck to your collarbones. “A little bit mean, a little bit nice. You did so well— such a good girl.“

The praise made your cunt tense, fingers curling at the base of his wings. 

Keigo looked equally as content as you. He wanted to see you slip and puddle beneath him. As much as he still had a mean streak for the day, he could channel it elsewhere, pepper it in as needed. Not teasing you at all would be sin. 

“C-can I have your cock now?” You asked, voice high and sweet. Your gaze was reverence itself, all for him.

Keigo chuckled, rolling his hips just the /slightest/ bit, “You’ve got it already, greedy girl.”

Your frowned, eyes already growing wet, “That’s not w-what I mean.”

“That’s too bad,” Keigo sighed, rubbing little circles along your hips. “Guess this is all you’re getting.”

“N-no!” Your voice almost broke as you tried to tug him closer. “I want you to be fuck me, p-please, I’ll do whatever you ask!” 

“You should already be doing that,” Keigo snorted, stilling any movement. “I don’t know if you really want it.”

Of course, he knew how much you craved him, he could see it in every twitch and desperate whimper that got caught in the back on the back of your tongue. 

“I do!“ You tried to move your hips against his own, but he held them flat and steady.  “Please, please, please—“

Keigo paused, tilting his head slowly and regarding you with pensive eyes. 

You reached out for his wrist, pulling it to your lips to lay gentle kiss after kiss over the skin. The touch, no matter the setting, always had him shuddering. Keigo was a whore for many things, but genuine, heartfelt affection was reliably near the top of the list.

Still— 

“Bribery?” He snorted. “Cute.” 

You were getting desperate. Tears started to leak from you once more, sobs held themselves in the back of your throat. The stretch of your cunt had started to burn. The lack of touch anywhere near your sex made you so needy, it hurt.

“D-daddy, please—!”

And you started babbling. 

It was Keigo’s favorite thing to see you so desperate and wanting that you lost the ability to have coherent thought beyond wanting him in the rawest and unbridled way.

Your words were dribble. Pleads and begging that your floating little mind drew up without pause. Details and filth that he’d coaxed from you so well, he couldn’t help but be burningly proud. Each word was so shameless, it made Keigo’s his split into a cocky smile. 

Losing yourself beneath him, good and proper. And you hadn’t even been fucked yet. 

“There we go,” Keigo hummed, groaning as he fucked into you once, hard and deep to where the top of his cock brushed against your deepest parts. “Let go for me, little bird. Daddy’s got you.”

And he did—

And you knew it. 

And so with the next slam of his cock into your cunt, you let your eyes roll back into your head and be enveloped by sensation. Heat buried in your yummy, slick dripping from his cock, sticky the skin that was shared between the two of you.

You both dissolved into the other.

Keigo didn’t hold back, all of that pent up stress and anger projected into the cant of his hips, the grip that bruised your hips, and the way his wings arched and stretched to the ceiling. 

He muttered to you and himself, cursing with each thrust about how much he ‘deserved to have your tight little cunt—his tight cunt however he wanted’. About how your body and all its curves and features were ‘his, only his’ and he could fuck you in and fuck you up in whatever way he pleased.

Each dripped word pushed you hotter and hotter. 

You drowned so pleasantly in his words as your peak snuck to hit you hard and fast.

You were so pleasantly high on him and his words and body, you didn’t notice his hand slipping between your bodies, hiking your legs over his shoulder in one motion, and circling and tugging on your clit the next.

Keigo might have commanded you to come, you couldn’t tell. The moment he gave your clit the slightest cruel twist, sweet pain igniting, your vision went white and you wailed.

Your nails dug into the base of Keigo’s wings, pushing him over the edge in the same breath as you. He cursed, loud and breaking as his arms collapsed on either side of your head.

He didn’t fuck you through his own orgasm, just pressed the tip of his cock to your womb and circled your clit as you twitched and cried, all for him.

And things stilled.

Your legs were lowered, your gooey mind understood. You pawed at the wetness on your face, a mix of tears and dripped sweat between the two of you.

As Keigo slipped out of you, after so long, you hissed, cunt sore and thighs aching.

“H-hurts,” You murmured, tugging Keigo closer, though he’d hardly gone ar. 

Keigo hushed you, stealing a kiss or two before rolling sideways onto the sticky sheets, tugging you to his chest.

His hand slipped between your legs, pushing a bit of leaking cum back into your sore cunt, as he so often did after stuffing you so full. Kindly, he rubbed at your thighs, any of his earlier snark gone.

“Does this feel better?” He smiled into your hair, you could feel it. 

You made a noise of affirmation, all you could muster, and leaned into Keigo, properly sated. 

Your eyes went half-lidded, exhaustion and euphoria holding you equally. After the teasing and torture you’d endured on Keigo’s cock, you imagined you’d be walking oddly for at least a day, and sore for a few more. 

You frowned, Keigo beaming you a smug smile and tugging you closer, “Something wrong, little bird.”

“D-daddy,” You huffed, patting his chest weakly. “You were so mean!”

“And you,” Keigo tapped the tip of your nose, “did a perfect job at telling me it was too much and didn’t feel good. I’m so proud, you do so good for me.”

Part of you wanted to be a brat with him, puff and sulk a bit more, but you couldn’t muster up the will. Keigo knew that praise made you the sweetest and happiest you could be and consider how he had struck a few nerves, enough to make you light-safeword, you deserved it all.

You grumbled in the back of your throat and buried your face in his chest.

“Will a nice massage and a warm shower make it up to you?” Keigo asked, the pads of his fingers flitting down your spine, less for comfort and more for looking for any visible bruises or scratches. 

“Almost,” You sniffled. “Can we watch a m-movie too? I can make tea.”

“That’s a given, we can snuggle all night, little bird, I’d like that very much,” Keigo sighed with his own contentment. “And I’ll make tea too.”

You let out your own trail of high laughter as Keigo peppered kisses wherever he could, heaping you with sweetness as his wings, still trembling from orgasm, fluttered with his happiness. 

“I can pick you out a nice, comfy outfit—  maybe those cute, toasty stockings you like so much,” Keigo knew how to stroke the most melted and small parts of your mind, so well. You fell into his offer and kisses with a smile.

“Your favorite stockings? The knit ones?” You teased, nipping at his jaw, and letting your own touch drift and linger around the tender flesh where the base of his wings met the muscles around his spine.

(Keigo wouldn’t admit it to many, but they ached most days. His body, though trained immaculately, wasn’t truly meant to bear the weight it did.)

(But, you were happy to lift some his own burdens.”

You massaged the flesh, touch firm even through Keigo’s initial arch and startled jolt. 

“Can I rub some of that oil on these too?” You murmured, tangling your sweaty legs together. “You’ve been working too hard lately, daddy. They’ve gotta hurt.”

“Hm,” Keigo cupped your jaw, drawing your face away to nuzzle your noses together, something warm and so precious, you only saw it in his most comfortable moments. “Aren’t I supposed to be taking care of you?”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t help,” You wanted to, you liked to, and you liked seeing daddy— Keigo, relax after scenes, sessions, and long days. “Please?”

“Of course, dove,” Keigo’s eyes crinkled at the corners, with a smile all for the two of you. “Let’s lay for a little longer, alright?”

His touch, honeyed and kind without a hint of teasing, drifted to the lowest part of your back, finding the roots of your tension and tending to them, as you tended to his. 

You were happy to tangle with him, content and intertwined. 

 ||||||||||

thank you for reading!! 💕

ko-fi 

[bubblegumbi0tch]

The Vacation

Warrings: Creampie and public sex 

"Ladies and gentlemen, please clip on your seat belts and get ready for the time of your lives. The safety precautions are as follows on the screen. Thank you for flying with Peach Aviation, where every journey is exciting. The flight attendant's voice echoed throughout the airplane. After clipping on your seat belt for the landing to Brazil where Oikawa was taking you, you turned towards him. "You seriously want me to believe that this was spontaneous and not a planned vacation." Yup!" He stated, popping the p. "You seem thrilled today." You reported. "Obviously, you have put up with me for four years, and you are still here. "He smiled softly up at you. "Plus... There's the fact that I am about to get some." "Who said that? What makes you sure you are going to get some?" You unclipped the belt and got up, taking hold of your handbag next to you.

"What?! Seriously Y/N…princess?" He followed you out of the plane. What you saw in the open-air took your breath away. All around you, there are lush green mountains, sounds of seagulls, and the waves crashing entered your ears. The beautiful architecture is all around you. You turned around to face Oikawa, only to bump into his chest. His muscular arms wrapped around you stable. "Took your breath away, didn't it?" He questioned. "Happened to me too, just like the very first time I saw you, in that little black dress and heels during one of my first games, I knew I had to have you." He smiled down at you. It's beautiful, Tooru. I don't have words to explain, but it really is." You stated. "I know. When I talked to Hinata about a good place to take you, he recommended a nice beach. We visit him before we go. He stated. "Happy Anniversary, princess. "He whispered you. "Tooru, I don't know what to say. You really didn't have to do this." "You could express your gratitude by giving me a Thank-you kiss for one! "He smirked. You kissed him with all the emotions inside you. At that moment, it was just you two, two lovers kissing without any care, as their lips tangoed perfectly together. 

"You want to spend all your weekend here at the airport or actually go down to the hotel?" He pulled away. "It's a  five-minute walk from here." "Let's go!" You exclaimed excitedly and then dragged him down the out of the airport you're rolling luggage in hand and to the pathway, half cemented and half not. You marveled at the beauty of the scenery. It was stunning. The birds chirped, and the wind blew perfectly. He clasped his hand into yours. According to Oikawa, you were the prettiest girl he's ever seen. As the two of you walk both near the hotel's main doors, Oikawa checks in, and the bellhop gets your bags. As you open the door to your room, Oikawa suddenly stopped and turned to you, only to pick you up by the knees and the shoulder, bridal style. 

You squealed in surprise. "What in the heavens are you doing, Tooru?" You threw your head back in laughter. Carrying you inside our room, what else?" And then he spun around, with you in his arms. 

"Tooru !" You squealed again. 

"Keep practicing princess, you are going to need it tonight." This caused your checks to heat up. 

As Oikawa walked in further inside the room, your eyes slipped onto the glass wall on the opposite side, which gave you a perfect view of the ocean. 

"You know only married couples do this?" You questioned as you walked over to the wall. 

You heard him shuffling but paid no heed; you were far more invested in the view. "I know, but you have to admit you like it. Imagine being Mrs. Oikawa … Oikawa (y/n) has a nice ring to it, don't you think" he smiles. You nod at him. "Now, love, why don't we head over to the beach? We can watch the sunset together. As the both of you get changes, Oikawa's jaw drops the second you walk out of the bathroom wearing a bathing suit that hugs you in all the right places. Accentuating the best parts of your body. "Wow (y/n), you look amazing." You see his eyes sparkle a light blush cover his cheeks. You smile at him as he holds your hand, leading you down to the beach. 

As you walk down to the beach, you hear the gentle washing of the waves sings a lullaby to your ears. You have always loved the sound of the ocean, so serene yet holding so much power. 'Thank you again for bringing me here, love.' You tell Oikawa as he sets up a towel. "Anything for you princess you how much I like to spoil you." The two of you are sat on a towel by the beach, watching the sun paint its oranges and yellows in the sky. You were distracted by the sky that you didn't see Oikawa get up on one knee; he holds your face in his palm, gently Turing you to him. "Y/N L/N, my girlfriend, my love, and my heart. I know I am not the most deserving man on this planet. I have made my fair share of mistakes. But you have changed that. You have been a source of light in one of the darkest periods of my life, so today, I am asking you will you let me be your light? Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?" By the time his speech ended, tears were streaming down your face.

"Yes! Yes! Thousand times, yes." You nodded. 

Oikawa got up from his position, grabbing your hand and slipping on the diamond on your finger. 

"You have made me the happiest man alive on this planet, Y/N." He stated. "I love you, Mrs. Oikawa."

"And I love you, Mr. Oikawa." He pulled you into a deep passionate kiss, your saliva mixing. When you pull apart, a string connects the two of you. You look around and notice that you two are the only ones left on the beach. That "Let's go swimming princess" he starts running towards the water. You feel your feet sinking into the soft sand. You pad after him towards the calm, beckoning water. Oikawa smirks at you. You screech into the quiet beach when he all of a sudden picks you up and carries you bridal-style into the sea. Bringing you further into the sea and complaining about the cold water. A droplet of water is trickling along the edge of his jaw; your focus is transfixed at its smooth descent to his chin. Your bodies are bobbing with the calm waves, up, down, up, down. 

Then your eyes lock, you feel a heat building up inside you. Oikawa looks at you and sears a mark in you, and it's burning like the flames of hell all the way down to your core. With the side of his finger, he doesn't need to so much as touch you to tip your head up his way because that's how willing you are. One tilt, that's all it takes to kiss him right now. His fingers are sinking into your tender waist, and immediately you need to feel inside you. "I love you, princess" He slides his cheek against yours and traces the bridge of your nose with the tip of his. He dips his face in closer to your lips, nearing one another. You taste the sea on his lips, salt, and cold. It feels like diving into the ocean, plunging into the deep blue, and simply allowing your body to be swept away. His kiss is greedy, hungry, willing you to submit to him and follow his lead. 

Legs wrapping around his torso in the water, his hands caress up your thighs to your ass, digging into your plump flesh with an ardor that releases damp arousal from your slit. Your own fingers grope down his chest and toy with his hair, scratching and tugging. When he nibbles on your bottom lip, and you know that you're done for. You melt like putty in his control, meeting his tongue with soft obedience you don't usually exert. Tooru .' You gasp into his mouth. 'I told you that you were gonna be screaming my name tonight, (y/n).' he says before diving back into you. Those words send the possessive animal in your mind wild with satisfaction. 

Because yes, he's all yours tonight. When you feel his stiff length poke underneath you, your cunt is set ablaze with desire. Desire to sink down onto him this instant and have him pound into you amidst the ocean until you both feel faint. The desire for him to break you in half with all his might, make your eyes water with from the pleasure he stabs into you. He holds you as the both of you walk to shore together. Lips never leaving one another's. His mouth travels down to your breasts, and he doesn't hesitate to devour them from your bathing suit, suckling angry red/ purple marks down your cleavage and around your nipples. Though clothed, the prominence of his big cock burrows between your wide-open entrance, rubbing against your bikini-clad clit and making you thrust your hips further into him. 

Enjoying the euphoria from his touch, you don't realize you're on land until he gently falls onto his knees and carefully places you on the towels below him. You pull him by the neck onto you. As he kisses a torching trail down your wet body, your mind is somewhere else in heaven that worships your fiancé Oikawa. His large hands kneading your exposed breasts, the wisp of his breath tingles down your stomach, tying a knot in your core. His teeth, he obscenely tugs lose the string that ties your bikini bottom together. The fabric falls loose lifelessly, revealing your soaking cunt, shimmering with want for him.

‘So wet (y/n) .’ He muses as he kisses your pelvis, finger stroking up your slick to gather the liquid of your arousal. Then he prods his finger into your mouth, your tongue compliantly lapping up your own taste, salty from the sea. 'Who made you this wet, mmm?'

'You.' You're practically pleading as he sucks viciously at your inner thigh, so close to your weeping pussy. I want you to scream my name by the time we're done." When he first links his lips to your clit, your hips buckle upwards, and fingers fly to entangle his chestnut hair. Sucking harshly on your sensitive bud, all you're capable of is squirming and writhing underneath him. The sensation of his mouth sucking on your succulence sends a shot of ecstasy down your quaking legs. Your head feels dizzy.

'"Fuck!' You whine. "You like that, princess ?' When he looks up at you, a wet smirk on his lips breathing hot air into your cunt, a coil winds in your stomach. T-Tooru.' Your grip on his hair tightens.

Then he's gorging you like a feast, tongue fluttering on your swollen bundle of nerves, your kryptonite, teeth scraping along your folds seductively. After several licks of your entrance, he pushes two digits into your gummy cunt. The ease in, lubricated by your moist walls that welcome the pressure of his intrusion into you like the open sea. He draws wide circles inside you, and it feels like your innards are being stirred to perfection by a metal rod. In the meantime, his assault on your clit doesn't falter, rhythmically hitting his tongue against you. Allowing the vibrations of his humming to penetrate your core. Looking down, this is simply the most beautiful sight you've ever witnessed. Oikawa's brown eyes glimpsing up at you hungrily, face buried nose-deep in your pussy. Hands gripping under your thighs that are rested on his shoulders, the beautiful scenery of the sunset, its glow onto you, and the ocean in the background play a symphony to your moans and his filthy slurps.

Suddenly, an explosion of pleasure arrives at your clit. 'Oh, fuck yes!' You screech, throat raw from the pure elation that washes over you. The throbbing in your cunt releases at his continuous friction, pulsating so wildly you think you will burst. His fingers pump out your high as he sucks one last time, long and hard, on your beating clit. 'Ah… Oh my god… Tooru…' he emerges from between your legs to breathe. You watch as your fluid dribble down his chin lewdly, your thumb swipes to catch the wetness.

'How was that?' Untangling his arms from your legs, he walks up on his elbows to meet your lips in a tender kiss.

'Wow.' You utter against his mouth, eyes rolling to the back of your head for dramatic effect. 'Let's continue back in our room.' Quickly you do up your bikini, impatient for more.

Without needing another word, Oikawa sweeps you into his arms, gathers all your belongings, and hastily carries you back to your hotel located just a minute away from the beach. Although, it takes much longer than a minute for you to arrive, seeing as multiple detours are made along the way, fondling behind a tree, kissing in the elevator, and missing your floor. 

And when you're finally in the confines of your shared room, he pins you to the closed door, not even bothering to switch on the lights, lips latched onto your magnetizing neck. Your wrists trapped in his grip against the hardwood, you ache to touch him as his teeth find your earlobe. Nipping at your soft round flesh, a pleasant shock is sent down your spine at the twinge of pain. 'Tooru…' You sigh. He pulls away to stare into your beseeching eyes. 'What do you want me to do to you, princess?' His voice is a low grumble of dominance, digging its talons into your brain.

'I want… I want you to fuck me until I cry.' In the dark of the room, your attention flickers to the sunset terrace outside. 'Right on that balcony over there.'

Something in his eyes ignites at your suggestion. Filled with lust, he brings you through the glass door that opens to the fresh setting night. 'You want me to fuck you right here, princess? For everyone to see?' Danger lurking one kiss away, you sense the precarious position his mind is at. So you reach down and grab his hard cock over his shorts and tip his mind to a carnal desire. 

'P-please, Tooru.' The name is the last straw for him. His breath hitches as you tug down his pants and allow his enormous cock to spring free. Spinning you around roughly, he bends you over onto the rail of the balcony and strips off your swimsuit in one deft gesture. From here, you have an unobstructed view of the coast, lined by bustling bars and closing restaurants. The neighboring terraces are a meters away; if anyone walks out now, they would horrifically witness Oikawa about to pound into you from behind. Your heart is beating in the excitement of the risk as well as the anticipation of his cock. Not being able to see him, he can thrust into you any moment now; he must be reveling in such control he holds. Then you feel it, his large thick round tip pressing against your entrance curiously. Your legs shake expectantly while fresh arousal leaks out of you, mixing with his precum he's plowing into you. 'Begone more time for me (y/n). Please, Tooru.' Allowing the words to drag out on your tongue, you twist your neck to look at him with large pleading eyes. He looks like a king, towering over you with this much assertion, relishing in the power he holds above you in this very moment. 

Hands holding your hips in place, he slams his thick member into your gaping tight pussy in one forceful plunge. You can't help but cry out at the sheer stretch of your walls he's spanning. fuck, he's so big he makes it feels like your first time together all over again. All you think at first is an incredible cinching of your core, the ache of him impaling his rigid shaft through the resisting pressure of your tight pussy. He's fucking massive. He seems to know it as well because he gives you a second to adjust to his size, palm scaling smoothly up the hill of your back to gather your hair in his hand. Then he is pummelling into you, hips slapping against your bottom, ringing such vulgar sounds in your ears. His cock, hard as if carved from marble, piercing through the pain and molding a thing of sweet, sweet pleasure inside you. You grip the rail so tight its edge gouges marks into your skin, your head hung low between your tense arms.

'Fu-uckk princess, you ohhh feel so good around me," he groans. At this angle, his cock is curving up the wrong way into you, jabbing in places that make you go crazy. A part of your soul is no longer with you, propelled elsewhere by his ceaseless merciless attack on your pussy. You feel a sting on your butt. He spanks a searing hot mark into your ass cheek. The sharp pain is refreshing alongside the dull ache behind the euphoric throb he is penetrating into you. "Princess, I love hearing your whimpers their so cute" Another slap echoes in your ears, and you welcome it by curving your back more to tip your tush higher for him.

'Tooru, you fuck me so good.' you egg him on further, stroking his ego as your tight squishy walls are clenching his dick. Pounding into you with such vigor and violence that your folds are beginning to sting. 

Moans that fall from his lips tingle at your clit, which you start to play with to add to your stimulation. Another smack on your ass, this time so surprising that you scream out. 'Yes, be loud for me. Let everyone hear how good I make you feel.' He coaxes. Oikawa begins to slow, which you know is a sign that he's close but doesn't cum yet. He bends over you, your hair still tied around his wrist, and nips at the shell of your ear. You've never known your ear to be such a sensitive area, for when his tongue flickers at your inner shell, a shudder convulses through you. Leaving slobbery kisses down the curve of your shoulder. 

You wanna Finish on the bed, princess ?' You nod, and Oikawa embraces you from behind; his strong arm comes under your cold lonely breasts that perk up at his attention, his wet cock sitting between your red ass cheeks. The hum of his deep rasp on your neck sends your head lolling back onto his sweat-covered chest. His lips seal yours as he walks you back into the room, leaving the glass door open for the night breeze to grace you. Amidst the rough sex, you treasure such a soft, delicate moment on your tongue, delighting in the way the tips of his fingers trace up your side. When his hand slithers up to your face, you melt into the warm flesh of his palm, mouth opening up for him to unfurl into.

Then the back of your knees hit the bed, and you know it's about to begin again. Without breaking the union of your lips, you clamber onto the sheets with his frame hovering over you. Grappling on his neck, you drag Oikawa on top of you as your head sinks down onto the plush of the pillow.

He sucks on your plump bottom lip one last time before pulling away. Fluid still profusely oozing out of the slit of his tip, he perches between your legs. 'How do you want it, my future wife?' His tone is endearing, yet eyes his eyes are hungry.

Impatient for him to fill you to the brim again, you lift both your legs up for him to grab and place onto his shoulders. 'Like this please, husband.' That's all you have to say for him to grunt okay and push deep into you, knees digging into the mattress. In this position, his cock reaches your cervix without hindrance, his swollen head slamming into your end every thrust he gives. It's a different type of ache this time, more targeted at the one sensitive spot inside you. As he continues, you thrust into you, balls swinging at your ass, a build-up of sensitivity gathers at your core.

You feel it approaching, that imminent contortion of your cunt, looming over you, on the brink of toppling your senses.

'Keep going.' You whimper the filthy feeling of his prick hammering so fast into you enough to bring tears to your eyes. You try to keep them open, watch his tongue poke out in concentration as he watches your body quiver under his. But the intensity of his fucking is truly too overwhelming that a single droplet leaks out and flows down your temple. 'I'm so close.' Oikawa moans, pecking the bone of your ankle. Something ruptures within him; with an even more arduous determination, he drives into your walls like a crazed beast. The sole purpose now is to reach the climax awaiting him; he spreads your legs open wide before him and rabidly plunges his twitching cock.

And for the second and third time this night, your orgasm hits you, one immediately followed by the other. 'Tooru, I'm-' You're a crying thrashing mess beneath him, drool dribbling out of your mouth and teary eyes, the ecstatic pleasure obliterating your mind into ruins as your cunt erupts. The string of profanities that leave you sound incoherent to your own hearing.

You won't be able to walk straight tomorrow; you're sure of it.

Oikawa watches you break on his cock, walls tightening impossibly around him. "(Y/n) I'm gonna cum. Can I cum inside you?" His thrusts start to get sloppy than what they were from the beginning. He starts to pound into and with one final thrust, he shoots his cum in spurts deep inside you. He pulls himself out a string of cum attached to his tip. He sees you haven't moved in your original position, still dazed out from what just happened. He spreads your puffy lips apart. He sees his cum seeping out of you and onto the bed. Oikawa leans down and touches your cheek; you snap out of your trance. "amazing, Tooru." You were too tired to finish your sentence. Oikawa smiles "you were fantastic; I'm so lucky to have you as my future wife." He kissed your temple and carried you off to the bath. 

Requests are open ᡕᠵ᠊ᡃ່࡚ࠢ࠘ ⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊ࠢ࠘𐡏⊹ ♥︎

[talesofstyles]

Happy Anniversary

look, we all need lawyer harry in our lives. and we need to shag him in his office at least once. this piece is a mix of pure filth in his office and cute dad harry moments with his little girl at home. anywaay i’ll just shut up now. hope you lot like it! xx

[4k]

Balancing two cups of coffee and a yellow folder in your hands, you stride off the lift and onto the 30th floor of your building. Your own office is just two floors below on the 28th, but you have a meeting scheduled on this floor in about twenty five minutes and you thought it would be nice to surprise your husband before you head to the conference room together. To maintain your professional image at work, both of you don’t make it a habit to pop into each other’s office even though you work in the same building unless it’s absolutely necessary, but today you thought you’d make an exception since it’s your anniversary after all. And you sure he wouldn’t mind.

Hell, you know he’d be elated.

You gracefully navigate through a sea of cubicles, stopping for a second here and there to greet back some of your colleagues as you make your way to Harry’s office in the corner. He got the corner office a little over two years ago after he got full equity partnership, and God, you love Harry’s office. There’s not much of a difference regarding the interior with yours, but the view is ten times more spectacular.

You stop as you hear your name being called, and as you glance to your right, you see his secretary smiling at you. “Hi! Happy anniversary!”

“Thanks Claire,” you smile back at her. “Is Harry in?”

She nods. “He’s got a conference call earlier but I think he’s done now.”

“I’ll be quiet just in case then,” you reply, walking past her. “See you!”

You shut the door with care and slowly turn the lock as you enter Harry’s office. You can see that he’s frowning ahead in that silent way he gets when his brain is dealing with some huge, knotty problem, but as he looks up from his computer and sees you, the frown immediately turns into a grin. “Hi wifey.”

“Hey,” you feel a pleased little smile coming to your lips as you creep along the edge of his desk until you’re in front of him, turning around for a second to set the cups of coffee and your folder on the table. “Got you some coffee, thought you’d need it.”

“Thank you my love,” he reaches out, curling both of his hands around your hips. When he looks up at you, he’s smirking. “I think we both do.”

His eyes are sparkling as he licks his lips, scanning the length of your body. Without a doubt reminiscing last night after you tucked your little girl in bed and had a little pre-anniversary celebration right there on your kitchen island. 

It still gives you jolt sometimes, the way he’s looking at you, as if he’s looking at a breathtaking piece of artwork. You feel like you’ll never get used to it even after four years of marriage and two years of being together prior to that. It never fails to make your heart skip a beat every single bloody time.

It’s not much help, the fact that he’s in a suit. You see him in a suit every day yet it never gets old. Whoever invented the phrase ‘a man in a suit is to a woman what a woman in lingerie is to a man’ is brilliant and you can’t agree more with them. Your favourite piece of clothing on him is a long sleeved button-up shirt, and you’re pretty sure it has something to do with your attraction to your husband’s shoulders. There’s just something with the way they look when he’s taking it off — and how much you enjoy unbuttoning it. And when you layer a coat on top of that, it’s like getting to enjoy it twice. Like a very beautifully wrapped gift that you just can’t wait to rip open. 

You choose his left thigh to sit on, the one with a tiger tattoo hidden underneath his black trousers. Your favourite thigh. His face is only inches away from yours, you can just smell the scent of his Armani aftershave and hear the crisp cotton rustle of his shirt as he moves.

“Happy anniversary,” he mumbles against your cheek. His lips warm against your skin, and you can feel he’s smiling as he layers kisses down your jawline.

“Four years,” you turn your head to have a proper look at his face when he’s done doting on your face. Your fingers dance along his jawline this time, before sliding back into his hair. He lets out a happy sigh when you rub his scalp, leaning closer to lock your mouths in a sweet, light kiss.

“Don’t chuck me just yet,” he jokes, and you can feel the words said against your lips at the same time as you hear them.

You give him another quick kiss, giggling as you pull away. “Don’t worry,” you shake your head. “Not for another fifty years.”

“Make it seventy, will ya?” A sly smile playing at the corner of his lips.

“Sixty five,” you deadpan. “Give or take.”

He’s chuckling as he lets one of his palms slide up your leg, the other running down your back, stopping just above your arse. His grins widen when he doesn’t feel anything else beside your work dress covering them. “You’re not wearing anything under this?”

“Not a stitch,” you murmur.

“Fuck,” he breathes heavily just inches away from your ear, sending a ticklish sort of shiver through your whole body. “We’ve got a meeting in twenty minutes.”

“We can do the whole ‘make love and explore each other’s bodies’ thing later tonight,” you shoot him a smirk as your hands wander south to undo his belt buckle, turning around to straddle him and letting him pull your dress up until it’s bunched around your hips. “Now you just have to quickly shag the hell out of me.” 

Harry growls in your ear as you unzip his trousers and reach inside, feeling him go from interested to rock hard within seconds, and the sound of it makes your core flex around nothing. He adjusts himself in his chair, pulling down his boxers just enough to get his cock out before he settles back, giving the full control to you.

You hold onto his shoulder with one hand and lift your hips, not wasting another minute before you let him in with a quiet moan. He’s nibbling your bottom lip before tracing it with his tongue.

“Fuck, love,” Harry swallows every small sound that you breathe, crafting them into a low, desperate moan that rumbles from his chest. “So bloody wet f’me.”

“Been thinking about you all morning,” you whisper in his ear, your voice as seductive as he’d ever heard, making him growl and shift his hips upward. 

You lean back with your elbows on the edge of his desk, letting him have a better view of where he disappears so deep inside of you, filling you nearly past your limit.

“I love you,” he groans softly, biting his bottom lip as he brings his thumb where you need it the most, pressing down in small circles. 

“Oh, fuck,” you moan, one of your elbows slipping off his desk but he is quick to catch you. You’re about to protest when he moves his hand up instead, his fingers digging into your hips, but the feeling of him basically shoving you down onto his cock definitely making up the loss.

He lifts you up without warning before setting you down on top of the scattered draft contracts and financial reports on his desk. He is far from gentle, every thrust sending you further and further across his desk that he needs to pull you back. Every drag of his cock out of your sensitive core sends delightful shivers of euphoria racing through you.

You desperately try to find something, anything, to hold onto. His arms, his shoulders, finally settling with hair as you pull him down by his tie closer to you. With a gasp of his name, you fall into bliss. Your eyes closed as he kisses you intensely, breathing against you deeply as he lets go of himself, spilling all he’s got into you.

He chuckles against your jaw as you both try to even your breath, giving you one last kiss. He pulls out and quickly reaches out for tissues to clean you properly before wiping himself and tucking his dick back into his trousers.

He gives you a moment to come down your high, certainly not complaining about the view of you laying on top of his desk with your dress still bunched up around your hips. There’s no way he can look at his desk the same again.

He reaches out to help you to sit up, stealing another kiss or two as you try to stand. Your legs are quivering and his lips quirk into a gentle smirk. “Are you alright, sweetheart?”

“Yeah,” you nod as you adjust your dress and fix your hair. “How do I look?”

“Freshly fucked,” he teases you, but hastily amends himself when you look like you’ve seen a ghost. “I’m joking, I’m joking. You look amazing as always, my love.”

“Oh shit,” you mutter as you glance towards the clock. You quickly grab your yellow folder and your cup of coffee and head towards the door. “We need to go. The SC and HSBC people and the insurer must already be in the conference room by now.”

“Wait,” Harry suddenly stops you as you walk towards the door. Pulling you close, his eyes fixed on yours before he leans even closer, giving you a wink before he whispers, “you’re the best fuck I’ve ever had. Happy anniversary.”

***

“Mummy!”

You’re smiling through the mirror on your dressing table at the reflection of your two and a half year old peeking her head into your room. She’s wearing an adorable pink smocked dress with the cutest fabric bow at the back and she’s clutching a painting she must’ve just done. 

“Hi poppet,” you turn around to smile at her, opening your arms to sweep her into a hug.

“Mummy, look!” She proudly shows her painting. “It’s a pish!”

She still can’t say ‘f’ so she always pronounces ‘p’ instead, and both you and Harry can’t get enough of her baby talk. She grows way too fast but the way she talks reminds you that she’s still pretty much your baby. And you love it.

“Wow,” you gasp admiringly. “That’s a beautiful fish, my love. Shall we put it on the fridge later?”

“Uh-uh,” she nods as she climbs onto your bed. When you’re sure she doesn’t need your help climbing up, you turn your attention back to the mirror and continue with your makeup.

“Where’s daddy?” You ask her, glancing towards your bed where she is sat before you do your eyebrows.

She shrugs casually. “Seepin?”

Honestly, she is so petty. You wonder where she gets that from. Now every time you ask her about Harry she’ll say that he’s sleeping. It all started the other day when Harry was putting her to sleep. Minnie was telling him about her day but Harry was so tired that he fell asleep on her bed in the middle of the story. And you can’t really blame Harry because as much as you love your daughter, you know she sucks at telling stories. It takes ages and there are so many times where you smile at her but actually all you want to do is to yell ‘GET! TO! THE! BLOODY! POINT!’ (but of course you don’t do that, that’ll make you a terrible parent). 

You laugh and shake your head. “No he’s not.”

You barely finished your sentence when Harry walks into your room. He’s changed out of his work suit and into his fancy one. It’s slate gray from Prada, with an unbuttoned black shirt underneath (that you’ll definitely ask him to button them up later just so you can unbutton it for your pleasure). He looks so dashing that you can’t help but stare through your dressing table mirror.

“There you are,” he strides to the bed before plopping himself down to sit beside Minnie. “Turned my back for a second and you already ran off.”

Minnie giggles as Harry attacks her with tickles. “Daddy!” 

“Oh, I almost forgot,” Harry suddenly stands up, walking towards his wardrobe and takes out a wrapped box before walking back towards you. He’s smiling sheepishly. “I know we said no gifts, but I can’t resist.”

You roll your eyes comically. “I knew it.”

“Open it,” he hands you the box, before leaning in to kiss your cheek. “Happy anniversary.”

You can’t believe your eyes when you open it. It’s a black Alexander McQueen dress. The black Alexander McQueen dress. The one that you’d been saving for and promised yourself that you’d get it as a reward after you’re done with the big case at work that you're currently working with Harry, because it’s the biggest case you’ve ever had, and it’s just so stressful that the idea of a reward is basically the only thing that keeps you going. 

“Harry,” you look at him, dumbfounded.

“Thought you’d like it,” he smiles at you as he sits back down on the bed, and Minnie quickly sits on his lap.

“I don’t know what to say. I mean… how-”

“Darling, you’ve been looking at that dress on the iPad before bed every night this past month,” he chuckles. “Hope you like it?”

“Of course I like it!” You grin. “I love it! Now, I knew you would get me something anyway even though we clearly said no gifts, so I got you something as well.” 

You head to your wardrobe and rifles at the back behind your shoes. As you turn, you’re holding the wrapped present and you hand it to Harry.

“You shouldn’t have, darling,” he shakes his head, smiling at you. “But thank you.”

“Open it, daddy!” Minnie exclaims excitedly and Harry nods.

He sets it down on the carpet and carefully opens the wrapping paper. “A suit carrier!”

“Now it’s not as fancy as the dress, but I know you need a new suit carrier. You’ve got your old one for ages.”

Harry buttons your lips together for a proper kiss, earning a shriek of “eeew!” from Minnie as she closes her eyes with both of her dimply baby hands, and you both can’t help but laugh. 

“M’gonna get you!” Harry playfully growls and catches her into his arm before she gets the chance to run away, kissing her little face over and over. It’s the sweetest sight and seeing them together always makes you more broody than you already are.

“Daddy, stop!” She giggles as she tries to hide her face from Harry who is now trying to blow raspberries on her cheek.

You take the dress that you were going to wear back into your wardrobe and pull out your new dress from the box instead. And as you slip into your brand new dress, both your husband and your daughter are looking at you like you hung the moon.

“Wow!” Minnie gasps. “Beautiful, mummy!”

You smile sheepishly. “Thank you, my love.”

“Mummy’s hot isn’t she, Min?” Harry nudges Minnie gently, tilting his head towards you.

“No!” Minnie frowns. “Mummy’s not hot. She’s warm. Mummy gives warm hugs,” she enunciates carefully.

Both you and Harry are dying with laughter. “You’re right, you’re right,” Harry hastily amends. “Mummy’s warm. Sorry.”

You check yourself once again in the mirror and you finally put on your lipstick, before quickly realising that you’ve made a mistake. Minnie has been obsessed with your lipsticks these days that you can’t put it on without her asking to do the same.

“Mummy!” She yells in delight as she spots the lipstick. “Miiiine!”

“Minnie,” Harry turns to her, scolding her gently. “We don’t say ‘mine’. What do we say?”

“Please mummy?” She looks at you with puppy dog eyes. “I do it, please?”

You just can’t say no to your little girl. So all you can do is just sigh and sit her down on the dressing table, helping her to put on the lipstick. When you’re done, she gasps admiringly at her own reflection in the mirror and you can’t help but chuckle.

“Beautiful!” She exclaims. “Like mummy!”

“You are, my darling,” Harry walks towards the dressing table and stands behind Minnie, squeezing her from behind and kissing her on the cheek. “Just like mummy. Gonna be a little heartbreaker, aren’t you?”

Minnie lets out another fit of giggles as Harry blows raspberries on her neck. And Harry’s about to give her another kisses attack to her cheeks when suddenly the doorbell rings and Minnie’s eyes light up. “Auntie Gem!”

“Shall we go and say hello?” 

***

Harry is taking you to Wolseley in Mayfair, one of your favourite restaurants which also happens to be the place where you went on your first date. Technically it wasn’t a date, it was supposed to be a dinner meeting with some other people from the firm who were working on the same case with you and Harry, but one of them was stuck somewhere dealing with an even bigger case, and the other one had to go home for family emergency, so that left only you and Harry to deal with it. 

You’re looking at your husband in front of you as you take a sip of your champagne. He’s clearly trying to ignore his phone, but after the 10th time it vibrates, he gives up.

“It’s Halford isn’t it?” You ask him, guessing the person who’s been texting him for the past hour.

He nods, taking a gulp of his champagne before finally setting his phone down. “What?” He’s gazing at you, a quizzical expression on his face.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You still think they need to go with the merger,” he accuses.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You don’t have to, it’s written all over your face.”

“Fine,” you give up. “Since you insist, I still stand by my opinion. There’s no way out of it. They need to accept HSBC’s offer to merge.”

“Are you insane?” He looks at you in disbelief. “There’s no way Standard Chartered people would accept that. Halford would never say yes to that!”

“Harry, SC is going bust,” you retort. “They’ve been in denial long enough, don’t you think?”

Much to your surprise, he suddenly smiles.

“What?” You look at him in annoyance.

“I’ve missed this,” he’s hiding behind his champagne flute but you still see him smiling. “

This time you give him a quizzical look. “What?”

“This,” he makes elaborate gestures with his champagne flute before taking another gulp. “Working on the same case together. Reminds me of the good ol days, you know?”

Of course you know. That was how you met, in a conference room (in fact, it was that very conference room you both went to earlier today), working on a case together. You didn’t particularly get along well in the beginning, and that’s just to put it nicely.

“Darling, I love you,” you begin. “But I don’t really like working with you.” 

He laughs. “Oh come on, I’m not that bad!”

“Minnie is the only case that I actually enjoy working with you.” You roll your eyes comically and Harry can’t help but snort.

“Speaking about that kind of case,” he clears his throat before he begins. “I know it’s been perfect. You, me, our… case. But, I s’ppose we could, um, try for another case now?”

“Harry,” you reach across the table to squeeze his hand. “I’d love to have another… case. But,”

“Oh.”

“No, listen to me,” he breaks off into silence and you feel terrible at how hurt he sounds. “I’d love to have another baby, believe me I do, I really do. But right now we’re both just so caught up with work that we barely even see Minnie. I want us to try and learn how to have a better work-leisure balance before we go through that again.” 

You sigh in relief when he finally smiles at you. “I understand.” 

“Christmas,” you say out of the blue and Harry looks at you in confusion. “Christmas. Let’s try for another around Christmas. Which gives us around six months to figure this work-leisure thingy. That’s enough time don’t you think? Or when we’re done with this Standard Chartered case. Whichever comes first.”

“Darling, there’s no need to rush,” he assures you. “Honest. I’m ready when you are.”

“Actually there is,” you joke. “I’ve still got some vouchers for Mothercare that’ll expire by December next year.”

He chuckles. “So I’ve got to knock you up by March the latest?”

“No, February,” you reply and Harry appears a bit bemused. “Minnie was born way past her due date and I’m almost sure this one will come late too. We need it to be born before December, because- what?”

“Nothing,” Harry grins wider. “It’s just crazy, you know. Us. This. If someone came to this very table back then and told us that in six years we’d come back here to celebrate our four years wedding anniversary and talk about having a second baby…”

“Oh my god, I’d be livid,” you can’t help but laugh. “God, I hated you back then. I thought you were the most arrogant bastard I’d ever met.”

“Look at us now,” he makes another elaborate gesture with his champagne flute. Clearly making reference to that Paul Rudd meme.

“Who would’ve thought?” You laugh, playing along.

***

It turns out that Harry has another surprise for you.

After dinner, instead of driving back to your home in Kensington, he drives you both to Covent Garden instead. Turns out he’s booked a room in Rosewood for the night, and he didn’t want to say anything because he was sure you would say no. And he’s not wrong. You’ve never been away from Minnie overnight ever since she was born, and you would definitely overthink it and ended up saying no.

God, you love your husband.

The suite is amazing. It has panelled walls and plush sofas and a massive bed that looks insanely cosy. Now that you’re here, you’re fully convinced that it is not a crime to have a night off, and that Minnie will be just fine. In fact, you’re almost sure that she’s having a better time with Gemma than she is if you and Harry had stayed home. Gemma adores Minnie and Minnie is obsessed with her.

Harry hands you a glass of wine as he kisses your neck lingeringly. “The bath is ready.”

“You’ve got a text,” you murmur, tilting your head towards the coffee table where his phone is.

“Don’t care.”

“No, you do,” you insist. “Just look at it.”

He rolls his eyes but he listens to you and walks towards the coffee table. He grabs his phone, taking a second to read before he looks at you in astonishment.

“Oh my god.”

“What?” You play it cool, trying not to smile because actually you’ve read the notification about three minutes ago.

“Look,” he says, showing his phone to you.

Halford (Standard Chartered)

Harry, we’ve had our internal meeting and we’ve come to a decision to proceed with the merger.

You grin. “I don’t like to say I told you so.”

“You fucking love to say that,” he’s beaming at you. “Sweetheart, I know you said we can try when this case is over, and it is now. But just so you know I’m happy to wait til Christmas before we try too. There’s no rush.”

“Just shut up and put a baby in me, Styles.”

[magicforjournals]

The Green Dress (A Story About Loki) Chapter one : Him

Summary : A love story between a simple girl and Loki. Having been friends with Natasha for a couple of years now, you were used to her meddling in your love life. You and Nat met back when she was “working” for Tony; both of them had attended the opening of the new school, which you worked at, dedicated to Stark. She had walked over to ask if you needed help with anything as you were setting up the donations table. Your friendship developed from there on and you basically became sisters. You don’t think, however, that she was ready for how Loki changed your life.

Warning : None

You smile as you look down at your phone, which was ringing on your desk. Of course, Nat would call you right as the school day ends.

“Hey! What’s going on?” You say as you answer the call.

“Why do I only work with children?” Nat whines. “Don’t get me wrong, I love my job! But God, I wish I didn’t have to babysit them, you know.”

“I know hun, but are you honestly that surprised?” You reply as you’re picking up your class material and shoving everything in your bag. “How about I pick you up from work, and we go out for some drinks? I don’t have any grading to do today!” That was a rare occurrence. You usually had so much work. Your students were some of the more gifted ones in the entire school, and you always had extra work for them to do, meaning more work for you.

“Damn, you’re either slacking or you’re very efficient teach! We are having a party tonight at the compound remember?” Shit, you had forgotten about it. Who the hell has a party on a Thursday night?! And of course, you had promised the Avengers you’d attend… smart.

“I didn’t forget,“ Lies. “I have to go home and change, I’ll head over right after.“

“I stopped by your apartment to grab your clothes for you already,“ Nat says, all giddy. “I told you that giving me a key was a mistake. And I’m parked outside, no drinking and driving tonight! So hurry up, it’s freezing out here!” Oh God, why were you not surprised that she had done all of that?

“You’ll be the death of me Romanoff. I’ll be out in a sec then,“ you sigh. This woman was sometimes too much.

You chuckle as you finish packing your bag and walk out, locking the door to your classroom behind you. As you open the door to the outside, a chilling breeze greets you, making you shiver and shut your coat closed against your chest. As you make sure your car is locked, pressing the button three times just to be sure, you see Nat waving at you from the driver seat of her car. You think about the first time she told you about her job and her past, both of you drunk in your living room, swapping stories. Of course, your past wasn’t as rough as hers, but still, you felt connected to her in many ways. She quickly became your best friend, and the one you called after each miserable date, or whenever the awful guy you were dating dumped you. After your last breakup, around 8 months ago, she had vowed to find you the perfect man. She had talked about setting you up with one of the Avengers, but nothing had come of it.

“You look exhausted! What the hell did those kids do to you today?!“ Are the first words Nat greets you with when you open the car door. Geez, you didn’t think you looked that bad.

“You look nice too Nat!“ You smirk back, tossing your purse on the back seat.

“Get in loser,“ She answers, smiling. This friendship is definitely one of a kind! As you get in, you see that Nat seems a little on edge - almost nervous. This is odd. Usually, Nat isn’t the nervous type. She starts driving away, and you lean back on the leather seat, wondering what is bothering your friend. You know not to pry sometimes but this is different, she almost seems excited?

“Spill it Red“ You finally say.

“Ok, I’ll tell you, but don’t be mad at me ok?“ She replies in a small voice, a guilty look on her face.

“Oh no, I don’t like when you make that face. What did you do this time?“ You’re even scared to ask that.

“Steve is gonna be there tonight.“

Steve… Steve Rogers, the man you’ve had a HUGE crush on since the day you met. He was just so sweet and so considerate. And hot. Oh God was he ever hot. You’ve dreamt of climbing him like a tree and feel his strong hands on your body, around your neck. Nat had once tried to talk him into asking you out, but he never did. He didn’t want to force you into this crazy mess that was his life, that much he had told you face to face. From that day on, you rarely were in the presence of one another, not that you’ve been avoiding him nor he avoiding you, it just happened that way. There still was this weird feeling, tension between you guys, and being in his company made you sort of on edge. It was crazy, you knew nothing would happen between the two of you.Nat was still hoping however.

“That’s ok Nat. I’m over it. Why do you feel bad though? About the fact that Rogers is gonna be there?“ And then it hit you… She had picked out your outfit for tonight. “Oh no, Natasha, what did you grab out of my closet?“ You ask, panic in your voice.

“The green dress.”

You nod and sigh in relief. Ok, that wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be. You liked your emerald green dress. It was a little dressy, off the shoulder, hugged all your curves, but it was nice! It made you feel beautiful and powerful whenever you wore it too. “Oh, and Thor is apparently bringing his brother too. They’re trying to rebuild their relationship, or whatever. I still don’t trust Loki, but Thor seems adamant that he’s changed, so we’ll see.“ Natasha adds, shrugging her shoulders, quite indifferent about the situation and making the turn on to the road to the compound, stopping to scan her ID at the gate.

You hadn’t met Loki yet. In the past couple of years, you had of course heard about Loki Laufeyson, the villain that tried to take over Earth. However, to you, it seemed that he was a misunderstood child and was finally lashing out after all those years. Guess you’ll be confirming your suspicions tonight.

Natasha pulls up in her parking space next to Tony’s multiple cars and you both get out, just chatting about your day at school, how your students are advancing rapidly. She cares so much about your job and your kids, it’s endearing. She would’ve been a great teacher, a mother even, if she hadn’t been brought up in that place… You subconsciously shiver at the thought of the Red Room Natasha mentioned once a long time ago, but that bit of information was forever etched into your brain.

As you walk into the building, making your way to Nat’s little apartment, you guys bump into Pepper, her arms full of documents and looking a little frazzled.

“Woah, you okay there Pepper?“ You ask, instinctually reaching out to help her.

“Yeah,“ she sighs, out of breath. “Just taking care of some business for Stark Industries. Tony had to sign a couple of things for me to go ahead with the deals.“ Poor Pepper, she worked so hard as the CEO, she often forgets to take time for herself.

“Why don’t you come by my place, we’re getting ready for the party tonight. You could use a drink Pep, seriously.“ Nat replies, taking the papers out of Pepper’s arms. “I’ll ask someone to drop these off at your office. Door is unlocked, you guys go, I’ll meet you there in a second!“ She nudges you and Pepper down the hall.

You’ve always liked Nat’s small studio apartment, it was cozy and peaceful. Like promised, Natasha met up with you guys after only a couple of minutes and you three started getting ready for the party, drinking, doing your makeup - something out of a bad rom-com honestly.

“So why are you guys having this party again?” You ask as you’re walking down the stairs to the living room/bar idea. Nat had done your makeup, (she was so talented honestly!) and you were wearing that green dress she had also picked out for you, you felt beautiful and you were excited to let loose on a Thursday night (you still thought that was weird), your week had been rough so far.

“It’s to celebrate Maria’s birthday, she didn’t want to do anything huge so we thought she’d like to hang out with friends.” Pepper replies.

And friends there was, everyone was there. Even Bucky! You hadn’t seen him in a while, he stayed away often, trying to figure out where he fits in this new life of his now. Nonetheless, you always enjoyed his company, he was quite funny and you were happy to see him again.

As you reached the bottom of the stairs you scanned the room, looking for Steve, hoping that tonight’s interactions with him won’t be too weird, when you land on a pair of stunning blue/green eyes just staring at you. Almost immediately, you feel your heart flutter and your stomach twist, a warm feeling spreading inside of you. Who was that? Your eyes start moving down the stranger’s face, below his mesmerizing eyes, framed by thick black brows, there was a straight nose, thin but beautiful lips, dimples as he was smiling at you, a strong jaw…

“That’s Loki,” Nat whispers in your ear. “I don’t know why Thor thought it’d be a good idea to bring him tonight.” She keeps talking, but you don’t hear anything. All you see is this fascinating man, who is smiling kindly at you from across the room, a spark of mischief in his eyes.

So that’s him. Loki.

[thran-duils]

Lost In Zero Gravity (P.15)

Title: Lost In Zero Gravity (Part Fifteen) Summary:  Fem!Reader x Mob Boss!Tony Stark x Mob Boss!Steve Rogers.  Reader is a call girl who runs high end parties. She catches the attention of Tony Stark who invites her back to his room with his friend. She might have performed too well because she becomes their new favorite play toy and they don’t like to share. Words: 3,145 Warnings (for the fic in entirety): Smut, prostitution, infidelity, angst, domestic violence, stalking, possessive behavior Author’s Note: The reader here is someone who celebrates Christmas, just a heads up!

Part Fourteen || Part Sixteen || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

Something touched your face and you jerked awake, blinking in alarm.

“Shit, sorry,” you heard Tony say as you came to clearly. You exhaled sharply hearing his voice, relaxing back down onto the couch. He was trying not to laugh and failing. He brushed at your forehead again affectionately and said, “Look at two of my favorite girls snuggling on the couch together. A nice thing to come home to.”

You turned your head, seeing Luna was curled up behind your back against the back of the couch. Tony reached behind you, petting her. She got up immediately and crawled up onto your side to get more, stretching her back legs. Tony obliged and she stuck her tail up before hopping down to the ground and sauntering off.

“Well, she got tired of me quickly,” Tony said sounding sour. “Little bitch is holding a grudge I was gone for a week.”

You sat up and moved your pillow, waiting for him to sit down. He simpered in response, “Well, at least one of you still wants my attention.” He sat down and you laid back down, using his thigh as a pillow. “And it’s the better looking one, so that bodes well for me.”

Considering you had fallen asleep, the movie had gone back to the main menu and was playing on loop.

“Interesting choice,” Tony commented seeing it.

“Polar Express has become a classic for Christmas,” you told him seriously. “And I fell asleep on it. And I did want to watch it.” You reached for the controller and started it over.

“Is there a reason for that…? Should I be prepared to be bored?”

“I had watched about three other Christmas movies before this and I was really relaxed,” you returned.

Tony admitted, “Fair enough.” He looked around the room and said, “You really went to town on the decorations.”

“I had a lot.”

“Looks like my tree was the perfect thing for your ornaments. Perfect gift giver.”

You snorted and said, “Is that you digging for a ‘thank you’ again, Santa?”

“Yeah, maybe,” Tony answered, his hand coming to your waist. “Where are my cookies in thanks?”

You turned your head to look up at him and asked, “Do you really want me to make you some cookies? Because the only ones I can make on a whim right now are peanut butter.”

Tony smirked, gripping your side. “No, sweetheart. Thank you for being so on the ball though and ready to indulge my whims. You’re a treasure. But I ate enough desserts and bullshit at Disneyland to last me for months.”

“Did you have fun?” you asked, turning to look back as the movie started over again.

“Mhm,” Tony nodded. “Loved standing in lines for an absurd amount of time not only for rides but also for pictures with people pretending to be characters. But it made the kids happy, so that’s what counts. And before you even ask, yes I did use a Max Pass. The waiting was still atrocious.” Before you could ask anything else, he cleared his throat, “How was it here?”

“Fine,” you answered, giving a slight shrug, not offering anything else.

You were truly sore from how much sex you had been having. Steve had wanted to go at it every day the last week and he made sure it happened, alternating between rough and caring. It was lucky, for him, that his wife was gone for the majority of the week, so he was able to come here every day after he got done with business.

“Hmm, sounds like I should pry more but doesn’t sound like you also want to talk about it,” Tony commented quietly. “Conundrum.”

The feeling riled up again to speak to someone about the gala. You pushed away from him, pausing the movie, and he leaned his head back, looking at you with narrowed eyes at your sudden movement.

“Steve was really horny this week. Like every goddamn day kind of horny. So, I’m pretty sore and tired,” you told him. He rose his eyebrows in response, and you said, “You asked me to elaborate, so I am. Also, I don’t know how he’s feeling because he’s been forcing me against tables but then being gentle other times. It’s very hard to read. He really hurt my hip against the kitchen table.” Tony looked concerned, his mouth opening like he was going to ask a question, but you pressed on, wanting to mention this to him, “And that guy from Monaco was at the gala we went to and he was watching me.”

Tony cocked his head. “What?”

“Laurie. That French guy.”

That caught Tony’s attention and he asked seriously, “He was stateside? At the gala?”

“Yes. Is that not normal? Cause he was looking pretty creepy.”

For a split second, you saw genuine apprehension in his face. But, Tony cleared his throat and adjusted in just another second, the mask coming up. He forced a smile, covering up the concern that had been there moments before, and said, “It’s fine. Just weird that he was watching you is all.”

You did not believe him for apparent reasons, mainly his body language. And he changed the subject quickly, “I brought you some gifts over here in this bag, but you can’t open them until Christmas.”

Holding back a sigh that he had brushed it off so easily, you asked, “Did you wrap them?”

“No,” Tony admitted, and you frowned. He explained, “Definitely paid to have that done.” He noticed the look on your face and asked jokingly, “Is that going to be a problem? I can send them back to the park.”

“No. It’s just astounding to me that people don’t like wrapping presents. It’s one of my favorite things. Make sure they look perfect.”

He leaned over the side of the couch and dug through the bag he must have placed down when he came in. “Speaking of cookies…” He came back up with a plain box and handed it to you. “That one you can open now cause it’s perishable.”

You took it from him, opening the box to find Mickey gingerbread cookies and an assortment of other Christmas decorated fudge and cookies.

“Don’t make yourself sick,” Tony commented.

“What a dad thing to say. Have you not left that mode?” you retorted, shooting him a look.

“I see your wit hasn’t lessened. Why do you try to push my buttons?”

“Because it’s fun,” you told him and he sucked his bottom lip in at that slightly, watching you.

Taking one of the pieces of fudge, you closed the box and put it on the coffee table. You took a bite and then held out the other half to him. He leaned forward, taking it, his lips wrapping around your fingers. You smirked at the flirtation, savoring the piece in your own mouth.

“Too bad you’re feeling sore,” Tony said after he swallowed his piece. “That was mighty rude of Steve.”

“Quite,” you agreed.

“Well, we will just have to wait then. Let you get good and limber again. That should take what/ A night?” You snorted at that. “What? I can be patient. And thoughtful.”

Satisfied knowing he was not going to try to push you tonight, you laid back down, tucking yourself back under the blanket, snuggling up on his thigh.

“I’m glad you’re back,” you told him sincerely as you started the movie again.

You felt his fingers caress your side at that.

<><><>

“How was it here?” Tony asked the next day at the office, as Steve placed a coffee on his desk from the intern that had gone on a coffee run for the office.

Steve shrugged, “Alright. She was well behaved. We went to the gala. And I spoke with Richard there, got that all sorted out. He’s going to open up the port when we need it.”

“Anyone notice you two speaking about that matter?” Tony questioned.

“Of course not. Everyone had their noses too far down in their drinks.”

Tony snorted in response before he asked, “Did you notice Laurie?”

Steve’s brow furrowed. “Laurie who? Capron?” Tony nodded. Steve shook his head, “No. Why?”

“Y/N did. He was watching her.”

“Okay?” Steve said slowly, not getting it. And he should not because Tony had omitted the part about the bet when he mentioned to Steve that Laurie had been displeased he was meeting with Alexandre.

“Well, you know how I raced?” Steve nodded in acknowledgment. “He challenged me. Laurie did. Wanted to bet on Y/N.” Steve’s lips parted, vexation washing over his features. Tony said quickly, “That’s why I raced. I wasn’t gonna leave it in the hands of that random person they were having race for the company.”

“Why didn’t you tell me that?” Steve demanded. “Tony, what the fuck?”

“It wasn’t relevant. I won, didn’t I?”

“Why did you accept at all?”

“Because you know he would have just asked to take her right then. You know him. And I didn’t want to start that shit right there in front of all those cameras or put Y/N in that position or embarrass her.” Tony exhaled sharply and leaned forward over his desk, “Just… keep your head on a swivel. I don’t like that he’s stateside. He was really not happy about that meeting with Alexandre.”

Steve’s jaw was tight staring Tony down before he finally sighed, “Fine. Yeah. I’ll… we’ll figure out what he’s doing here.”

<><><>

“I still can’t figure out what to get you for Christmas,” you told Steve, watching him from the bed. He had come home during the day for a quickie. He had stayed away for a few days, much to your muscle’s relief.

“You don’t need to get me anything,” Steve told you as he pulled his pants up, working on his belt. “You’re enough.”

Picking at the sheet, you stared down at it, chewing on your bottom lip. Steve was moving around getting ready and he broke the silence, “What’s on your mind, Y/N?”

“Are you going to let me go home for Christmas?” you asked, looking at him hopefully.

Steve stilled for a moment in buttoning up his shirt, his eyes running over you there. You did not break eye contact, wanting to make it clear you were serious about this.

“I have been thinking about that,” Steve admitted. “Most of the guys have family they want to be with. You wouldn’t have anyone here – that I would want to be here that is – to watch you anyway.” Steve gave a tight-lipped smile. “So, my hands are kind of tied here.”

Hope was blossoming in your chest.

“I need to talk to Tony about it. But there will be rules. You’d need to check in regularly. It’d be a short trip. A couple days.”

“That’s okay,” you said eagerly.

Steve’s eyes crinkled and you closed your mouth, trying to relax again. He watched you for a few more moments before he went back to finishing buttoning up his shirt. He grabbed his suit jacket off the back of the chair and put it on too.

Coming over to the bed again, he gave you a kiss. “Don’t forget to wash the sheets before Tony gets home.”

“I will,” you said to his retreating back.

<><><>

You walked up the front steps, already hearing the chatter from inside. You could see some of your family in the living room window, laughing, already playing games. That was a Christmas Eve tradition. Taking a deep breath, you opened the front door. You had not called your grandma to tell her you were coming. The only ones who knew were a couple of your cousins you had reached out to.

When they noticed it was you, there was a chorus of happy greetings.

A wide smile coming across your face, you said hello in return as one of your aunts brought you to her, squeezing you close. Your bag fell by the wall by the door and you left it there to make the rounds.

Your grandma and grandpa were both in their respective chairs, your grandpa excited to see you. You made sure to hug him tight, kissing him on top of his head.

Turning you looked at your grandma. You had not spoken to her since you had left here weeks ago.

You asked gently, “Merry Christmas. How are you?”

“Better now that you are here, dear,” your grandma answered sincerely, a warm smile gracing her lips.

You broke at that, closing the space between the two of you and you wrapped her up in a tight hug. She held you back in return, and you blinked back tears knowing what she had said when you saw her last was true about her not being upset with you. Steve and Tony had not ruined your relationship after all.

<><><>

You looked down at your phone on the table and saw Tony was calling. You quickly snatched it off the table to avoid your cousin from seeing the name. One of your uncles had just begun to serve dessert. You had agreed to texts, not calls. What was Tony doing? You had just texted them an hour ago, sending them a pic that you were really at the house.

Getting up from the table, you said, “I need to go to the bathroom.”

“Well, hurry back! You don’t wanna miss my cake!” your uncle said as he cut in, placing another piece on a plate to distribute.

You smiled, “Of course not. It looks delicious.”

Turning away from the table, you saw the call had already gone to voicemail, much to your worry. But he was already calling again.

Coming into the hallway, you brought the phone up to your ear and answered in a hushed tone, “Hello?”

“There you are,” Tony responded, sounding taut. “Thought you were ignoring me and I was going to be pretty fucking irritated.” He sounded well on his way to being drunk; you knew the switch in his voice by now. “Make me regret letting you go off at all.”

“Well, I’m here. I’m at the house.”

“I know you are, sweetheart. I just… you’re gonna find a private space for yourself and then call me back on FaceTime.”

“What? Why?”

“Because I’m horny, Y/N and I needed a distraction for a moment. Get the tension out of myself. I hate the missus family. Go to the bathroom or something and give me a show.”

“Tony,” you hissed into the phone as you continued walking down the hall and the staircase leading to the lower part of the house. “We are in the middle of dessert. That’s—”

“You’re wasting time,” he interrupted you. “I’ve got to get back to this stupid party sooner rather than later. I’m already halfway worked up. Don’t leave me hanging, love. I just need to see you. Real quick. Promise. Call me back.”

He hung up the phone and you stared down at it dumbly for a few moments before letting out a strangled, frustrated noise. Your hand gripped the newel post as you propelled yourself down the staircase to go to the bathroom downstairs. Not following what he was asking would only get you in trouble and really make him regret letting you come here and have him refuse you in the future.

You locked the bathroom door for good measure. Turning around, you took a deep breath, trying to relax. You had given shows like this before, it was not foreign to you. All he wanted to see was you playing with yourself.

Pressing the callback for FaceTime, he answered, “Thank god. What were you doing?”

“I had to go downstairs,” you told him.

Fortuitously, you were wearing a skirt and it was loose. You pulled your underwear down, kicking them off. Taking your top off, you tossed it by your underwear. Looking around the bathroom, you looked for something you could use to prop up your phone and you spotted a small statue. Snatching it off the shelf, you sat down on the ground, your back against the tub. Using the statue, you propped the phone to point towards you and you spread your legs.

“Yeah, that’s good,” you heard Tony say softly and you could hear him already starting to jerk himself.

Your hand came to your pussy and you ran your fingers slowly up and down, not moving past your lips yet.

“How do you think I taste?” you asked, stroking slowly.

“So fucking good,” Tony returned, strained.

“You like tasting me?”

“It’s my favorite.”

Pressing one finger in, you moaned lowly. Your fingers came up to your mouth and you sucked on them before coming back to your clit, circling quickly.

“I wish it was you,” you keened, your fingers delving deeper.

“Fuck, me too,” Tony husked, speeding up.

Freeing your tits from your bra, you played with them, moaning as your fingers moved quicker. You kept your voice low as you teased him, hoping that no one would come up to the door. You had chosen the bathroom at the back of the house for a reason; the bigger one was closer to where everyone was.

Tony let out a groan as you described how wet and hot you were for him.

“I’m yours. All yours,” you told him, sultry.

“Shit, baby, I’m so close,” Tony groaned.

“Come for me, please,” you half whined, spreading your lips further apart to give him a better view inside. You continued encouraging him, circling your clit quickly.

“Fuck!” Tony exclaimed, shuddering breaths leaving him, and you knew he had finished. Your hand slowed and you waited until you were sure he was done before you dropped your hand. Picking up the phone, you covered your pussy again. The phone was pointed up at the ceiling; he must have laid it down on the counter.

After a few moments, he exhaled deeply, “Christ. Thank you, baby. That was good.” He picked the phone back up and said, “I gotta get cleaned up. Don’t forget to text. Have fun at your party.”

He hung up and you let out a breath of relief that he had one, gotten off, and two, no one had interrupted you.

You got yourself straightened out again, remembering to flush just to keep up the allusion. You did wash your hands though for real before leaving the bathroom.

“Thought you fell in,” one of your cousins joked when you appeared back in the dining room.

“No, sorry to disappoint,” you returned, pulling your chair back out and you sat down, picking up your fork. Everyone was almost done or already done. You took a big bite and chewed, savoring it. You gave your uncle the thumbs up down the table and he looked happy.

~~~

Forever tags: @coconutqueen21 @undecidedsworld

Fic tags: @icant-hangout-imdrumming @oceaniamaddness @multifandom-superlover @imsonick @holl2712 @here4thefanfics @agustdowney @fanofalltheficsx @buttercandy16

[powerosewaterpuff]

this idea for a fic/short fic came completely from a tiktok from @ fixation_or_infatuation on tiktok who has such awesome content so P L E A S E go check them out!! and thank u so much for the idea bc legit this made me so happy hehe

(also soft dad Bruce rights ok? oK I CLOSE MY EYES AND EARS TO CANON AND SAY FUCK THAT NOISE BRUCE IS A GOOD DAD FIGHT ME ON THIS HE IS A GOOD DAD WHO IF HIS SON CRIED FOR SOMETHING HE WOULD TURN THE EARTH OVER ON ITS ASS TO FIND IT FOR HIM PERIOD POINT BLANK. HE LOVES HIS CHILDREN OK A Y?? OH ALSO U CAN RIP DICK BEING AN ESL KID OUT OF MY COLD DEAD HANDS OK? OK :) )

“-uce. Bruce? Bruce! Bru-uce! Bruce, I adopted a chihuahua and named her Georgina, what’d you think of that?”

“Hn?”

Bruce shot his head up, realizing he had made the foolish mistake of zoning out through an infamous Dick Grayson tale, that always required every form of attention necessary at all times. He could feel himself chuckle inwardly, as he saw his ward’s little pout as he chewed away at his tortellini, directing a solid stare of expectation at Bruce.

“You really need to sleep more, do you know that?” Dick hummed, raising a little eyebrow at Bruce, which was a facial expression that looked far too adult on his baby cheeked face, and it looked far to Bruce-esque for his own liking.

“Even if I didn’t know that, I’d always have you to remind me, don’t I?” Bruce teased, stirring up a bright giggle from Dick that simply filled his chest with a rush of warmth that he had never really felt before. He loved hearing his laughter, no matter where or when and whether it was a rarity or not, but it always felt just a little bit more special when Bruce had been the one to cause it.

“At this point, I would consider myself your own personal alarm cloc-Bruce, can I please wake you up singing Christmas carols tomor-Why? I have a beautfiul and spec-tac-u-lar voice, thank you very much!”

Bruce didn’t bother suppressing a teasing eye roll, as Dick’s voice sounded like glass being rubbed against a cheese grater when he tried to hit all of Mariah Carey’s notes. He did, however, nod slightly at Dick to congratulate him on his proper pronounciation of ‘spectacular’, which was a word that Dick usually had a hint of trouble with. It was a small action, but one he hoped Dick would understand.

“Anyways, can I ask you a question?” Bruce’s eyebrows curved upwards in question, just a smidge, as he pushed his plate of food aside and leaned closer across the table to give Dick his complete focus.

“You already did,” Dick rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to retort but Bruce cut him off, “However, what’d you need?”

Then, there was something Bruce never really thought he would see for as long as he would live. It was Dick Grayson, the beam of passionate sunshine himself, squirming shyly in his seat and chewing on his bottom lip. If Bruce wasn’t the master of supressing emotions then he would’ve been throughly surprised by this display.

Dick Grayson was simply not shy, not in the very slightest. He was bolsterous and bold with just a hint of cunningness behind it, but he certainly was not shy. This, of course, caused Bruce to begin categorizing all the possible problems there could be. He ran through them over and over in his head, trying to suppress an inexplicable feeling of dread and fear that was coursing through his chest only slightly, but still present.

Dick took a deep breath, and Bruce could feel himself holding his almost inadvertently.

“When Superman comes today, d-do you think I could get an autograph,” Dick spluttered out, saying it almost too fast that Bruce barely understood what had been uttered. He did feel himself take a massive sigh of relief, even though what replaced the dread in his heart was just a prick of bitterness. Dick had never asked for Batman’s autograph.

“If Clark’s alright with it, then I don’t see why not, chum.”

Then, like a burst of light on a cloudy evening, Dick jumped out of his seat and went around the table straight into Bruce’s arms for a full koala hug.

Bruce, who still wasn’t fully accustomed to such open and loving acts of affection, froze for just a slip of a moment but then melted into Dick’s hold, as he usually did. There was just something magical, dare he say, about his wards (sons) hugs.

Dick then propped his head onto Bruce’s chest, and beamed up at him with stars glittering in his eyes, “Thank you, B!”

Bruce yearned to say something, to say anything along the lines of; Of course, I would bring the moon down if you asked me too or I love you so much that your very laugh eases this knot in my chest that has never been able to budge.

Bruce only managed a meager, “No need to thank me, chum.”

Dick, who had been completely content with the answer given even though he shouldn’t have been, placed his hands onto Bruce’s shoulders and flipped into a handstand position. He then curved his body around enough to sit onto Bruce’s broad shoulders, which in full honesty, didn’t surprise Bruce at this point. He had become labelled as the ‘jungle gym man,’ which was a nickname graciously given to him by Dick himself.

“Now, ride my steed! To Alfie!”

Bruce prayed inwardly that Clark wouldn’t have to be a witness to this mayhem, because it really would lessen his fearsome status in the Justice League.

•••••••••••

Bruce was not jealous.

He simply was not and it didn’t matter how many side eyed stares Alfred shot his way, Bruce was a perfectly fine without a sliver of jealously.

It’s hero-worship, it’s just complete and utter hero-worship.

From the moment Clark Kent had stepped through the Cave’s doors, Dick had been unable to contain his sheer excitement as he bounced on the balls of his feet. The two had hit it off better then anyone Bruce had ever seen before, gabbering on about nothing and everything all at the same time. Now, Bruce was not upset about this, because Dick deserved someone who could give every inch of love he so generously gave back to him. Clark was just that person, as the Boy Scout himself matched wits with Dick far easier then Bruce had ever been able to do.

That didn’t mean it didn’t hurt any less.

“Master Bruce?”

Bruce swiveled his chair to face Alfred, as he sorted out the rest of his paperwork.

“Have you seen Master Dick since our guest left? I’ve been unable to locate him since then.”

His jaw clenched slightly, as he racked his brain around everytime he had seen Dick between the forty minutes since Clark had left and that moment. He felt his heart sink when he realized he hadn’t seen a trace of Dick since the Kryptonian had left.

Fuck.

Bruce hurried up to the third floor of the Manor, and felt his heart that had sunk into his gut shatter at the sound of a faint whimper slithering up to his ear from the bathroom across the hall. He gently walked towards it, slowly but surely turning the knob only to peer his head in, as not to startle Dick.

Dick was curled up into a ball across from the sink, small sobs heaving from his little chest as he desperately tried to push the oncoming flow of tears away with his palm. His cheeks were marred with fresh tear stains and his eyes were a leaning towards the pinker side as fresh tears began to bubble to the surface.

Bruce wasted absolutely no time as he skidded to the floor in front of Dick, gripping his wards shoulders tightly. Dick raised his head slightly, looking all the more ashamed for being caught crying which weighed down on Bruce like the weight of the ocean.

“Dick, what’s wrong?” Bruce whispered, wishing he could erase every inch of sadness off his face, “Please tell me what’s wrong, chum.”

Dick bit his lip, chewing on it for a bit, which Bruce recognized as one of Dick’s nervous habits. He made a note of that, just in case.

“I-Bruce, it’s stupid, alright? I-I’ll get up, I’m sorry for sitting on the bathroom flo-.”

“Dick,” Bruce huffed, firmly pushing Dick back onto the ground as he moved his hands to cup Dick’s cheeks, still filled with baby fat, “Nothing you say is going to be stupid. I want to know what’s wrong, alright?”

Bruce was not one to plead nor grovel, no matter how much life pressed its dirty heels into his back he never swayed. However, seeing Dick crying was such a weak point to him that it unnerved and horrified him. (It was probably why his nightmares had all had one consistent theme of Dick being in some sort of danger that Bruce could not save him from.)

Dick practically melted into Bruce’s hold, and nuzzled his face into his palm as Bruce wiped away stray tears. Fuck. Bruce needed to hug Dick more, or just show any shred of affection. He just wasn’t used to having to show an abundance of physical affection to someone, and had forgotten how much he had craved for it when he was younger, starving and hungry for shreds of affection he wasn’t expecting to receive, until he simply became numb to it. Dick really deserved someone better, and Bruce knew this more than anyone else.

After taking a shaky breath, Dick peered up at Bruce as he blinked away tears, “Promise you won’t think it’s stupid?”

“I promise,” Bruce vowed as he rubbed his thumb across Dick’s cheeks comfortingly.

“Do you remember how I wanted Superman’s autograph?” Dick mumbled softly, sniffling slightly. Bruce nodded but mentality cursed himself a thousand times for not realizing that Dick hadn’t asked a single time for an autograph from Clark.

“I-I really wanted to ask him! I kept waiting and waiting but I just couldn’t do it, b-because I thought he might find me annoying. I really, really wanted him to like me, Bruce! I thought he might get upset or get annoyed by me because I talk so much, so I just couldn’t do it and I don’t even know why I’m crying! He was so nice to me but I just really got scared a-and my tongue got tied like-like a knot! Does that make sense? My tongue was like this big heavy knot and it was stuck to my mout-Why am I crying!”

Dick tried to suppress a rising sob, as he covered in his eyes in shame. Bruce gently let go of his cheeks and spread his arms out gently, with the offer standing clear. Dick flung himself into Bruce’s waiting arms and buried his face in the crook of his neck, as he continued to try to mumble out a few words and hiccup. God, it was enough to make Bruce’s chest ache, as he rubbed soothing circles into Dick’s back softly.

“Clark would never find you annoying, not in a million years. Dick, can you look at me for a second? Clark would never find you annoying, and I don’t know a single person who would,” Bruce stated firmly, as he cradled Dick in his arms and shifted him so he would be facing him, “Dick, Clark would give you a thousand autographs if you asked, and do you want to know something? There’s nothing wrong with being a little shy, and you have nothing to be ashamed of, nothing at all.”

Dick sniffled a bit, as he snuggled closer to Bruce but he stayed quiet, which worried Bruce more so then it should’ve.

“You know, I get shy sometimes too,” Bruce confided quietly, as if it would provide some sort of comfort to Dick. It proved to work as Dick sat up with a start, glancing up at Bruce wirh furrowed brows.

“It’s never this emotional, but you know what? I think it’s better you let it all out, then trying to bottle it up inside,” Bruce murmured, pushing Dick’s fringe back. He saw a pensive look set into Dick’s features, and was met with another soft hug.

Dick was going to being the reason Bruce’s heart burst, he was sure of it.

“You’re the best, Bruce.”

Oh well, Bruce didn’t need a heart anyway. Not if he had Dick with him.

•••••

Bruce leaned over his phone, dialing a number into it as he kept his ears open to the sound of the tap shutting.

He had gotten Dick to wash his face a bit, with Alfred stepping in to look after him while Bruce made some executive calls.

The phone beeped for a bit. Beep. Beep. Beep.

“Hello? Bruce?”

“I’m going to say this one singular time, are we clear? You are going to fly over here and give Dick the best goddamned autograph you have given a person but you are going to let him ask for it first, then you’ll be on your merry way unless he asks you to stay for dinner, clear?”

“I-.”

Bruce ended the call, satisfied with the answer he was given. It still stung just a bit that Dick wasn’t demanding a Batman autograph, but he would make sure his ward (son) was as happy as can be, even if it meant letting the Boy Scout take his place as Dicks, ‘Favourite Adult.’

It was worth it, if he could make sure that brilliant smile was always there.

Fin

(P.S. Later that night, when Bruce was tucking Dick into bed after shutting The Vevlveteen Rabbit and setting it onto the nightstand, he noticed Dick was happily gripping the signed Superman card tightly in his hand. He shoved back his exasperation, but couldn’t help but give a raise of the brow when Dick asked if he could buy a Superman backpack.

“You already sleep in Superman pajamas, I think the commodities can stop at that,” Bruce suggested, ignoring the fact that Dick probably had no idea what that word even meant, “Would you not want any other hero?”

“Nope, he’s my favourite. Oh-Besides you, of course!” Dick hummed, as he used his other arm to grab Zitka from behind him, as casual as could be.

Bruce, on the other hand, had just had a bombshell dropped on him. A happy bombshell. A pleasant bombshell. A bombshell nonetheless, though.

“I wouldn’t get your merch, though. I have the real thing, and he’s my bestest friend in the whole wide world. Don’t tell Wally that though!” Dick exclaimed, pointing an accusatory finger at Bruce like the most important part of that sentence was the warning of not to tell Kid Flash, and not that Bruce was his ‘bestest friend in the whole wide world.’

(Not father. Never his father.)

Bruce was silent, but leaned over to give Dick a peck on the forehead and a rare but soft smile. One he really only reserved for Dick and Alfred. He couldn’t afford to be selfish, this was enough for him. This was absolutely enough for him.

Dick returned his smile with one that shone brighter then all the suns Bruce had seen in his life.

Bruce really adored this kid.)

AND THATS IT HEHE PLEASE EXCUSE WELL EVERYTHING ABOUT THIS FIC I WROTE IT AT 2AM AND WHILE I CONSIDERED POSTING IT ON AO3 (my account is ordinarilyspeaking btw :) ) I DECIDED TUMBLR IS WHERE IS POST MY 2AM THOUGHTS ANYWAY SO WHY THE FUCK NOT SO YEAH IM GOING TO GO PROCRASINATE MY ASSINGMENTS SOME MORE SO THANK U SO MUCH FOR READING HEHE!

[nalgenewhore]

pretty boy

rowan x lorcan, modern au, 1789

“Rowan,” Emrys says, exasperated, “you volunteer for the tutoring program. You don’t get to choose who you tutor.”

Rowan makes a frustrated sound, glancing over his professor’s shoulder out the window. Lorcan Salvaterre, in all his 6-foot-9, black jean jacket clad, and toothpick chewing glory, leans casually against the podium. 

He must feel Rowan’s glare on him, because he looks up and sends Rowan a wolfish grin, winking once. It makes the silver-haired boy’s cheeks pink and snap his eyes back to Emrys. “Emrys. We hate each other.” 

The kind man shrugs, picking up a student’s paper and idly glancing through it, “I don’t care. He asked for help and you’re help. Go along. I hear he’s rather impatient. Apparently he’s got a temper, too.” 

“I hate you,” mutters Rowan, comfortable enough with his favourite teacher that he has no qualms with lobbing halfhearted insults at him. 

“You seem to hate a lot of people. Bye-bye, now.” 

Rowan rolls his eyes and grabs his tote bag, heavy with his books. With a muttered prayer, he walks out into the lecture hall, arching an unimpressed brow at the unmoving boy, “Well? Let’s go, we don’t have long.” Rowan turns neatly, not bothering to wait and see if Lorcan follows as he goes. 

He’s a little disappointed to hear a soft snort and long legs eating up the distance between them. “You’re kinda mean, you know that, Whitethorn?” 

“I’m not the one who broke someone’s knee because he looked at me wrong,” Rowan snaps, sending Lorcan a harsh look. 

It seems like that was the wrong thing to say because the lazy, warm grin slides off Lorcan’s face and his dark eyes harden. The muscles around his jaw feather, the toothpick snapping in half. Lorcan spits it out into the trash and looks forward, not saying another word. 

They walk in silence to the library and Rowan wishes for some unknown reason he could take the words back. 

Lorcan, as always, is sullen as he drops into a seat. His posture is terrible and Rowan half-wonders how he could be comfortable wedged in the corner between the wall and his chair. He stretches his legs out, crossing them at the ankle. Lorcan pulls out a pack of gum, unwrapping a stick and popping it in his mouth. 

As if it’s an afterthought, Lorcan asks, “Do you want some gum?” 

Rowan pauses in pulling his textbooks out, nodding slightly, “Yes. Please.” When Lorcan passes the stick to him, and their fingertips brush, lightning seems to zap up Rowan’s arm. He hides it as best he can, bending his head until his cheeks cool. 

Fuck. He hates Lorcan Salvaterre. 

+*+*+*+*+*+*

The next time, they meet in the library. 

Lorcan is less sullen today, his long hair shoved into a messy bun. He’s still got a stupid toothpick caught between his teeth, but he pays attention. 

As Lorcan pores over an essay of his that had been handed back, Rowan studies him. 

There’s a crease between his furrowed brow that Rowan wants to smooth away and his bottom lip is tucked between his teeth. After a few minutes, he mutters a curse and digs something out of his bag. Lorcan glares at Rowan while he opens the glasses case and pulls out a pair of round, wire-framed glasses. 

He practically dares Rowan to comment on them. Rowan rolls his eyes, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m not gonna tell anyone you wear glasses.” 

“You better not,” Lorcan says in response, a cheeky light sparking in his eyes. 

“I hate you.” 

“Mm-hmm, I’m sure you do.” 

“I do,” Rowan insists, sitting up straight. “I loathe you, I despise you.” 

Lorcan barely nods, focusing back on his text and using a chewed-up pen to make revisions until the entire page is practically hidden by blue ink. “Very convincing, Whitethorn.” 

The way his last name rolls off Lorcan’s tongue… Rowan hates it. So much, he hisses, “Stop calling me that.” 

“What, your name?” Lorcan still doesn’t deign to look up at Rowan. It only infuriated him more. He’s even too angry to care that his pale cheeks are no doubt flaming red. Lorcan finally looks up, catching Rowan’s flushed skin, “Oh, such a pretty boy when you’re mad.” 

“Shut up, whore.” 

Lorcan laughs, leaning forward with a wide smile, “Whore? Really? I’m a whore?” 

“Yup,” Rowan says, popping the ‘p’. “Whore.” 

“That’s not even true! I haven’t slept with anyone.” When Rowan arches a brow, Lorcan amends, “At this school. Nasty. I have standards.” 

Something about his standards makes Rowan’s heart ache a bit. He scowls, hating that he’s hurt that Lorcan all but implied he was beneath Lorcan’s standards. “You dated Elide for a year. You two never slept together?” 

Lorcan wears a shit-eating grin, but it doesn’t exactly reach his eyes, “Nope. Never, not once.” 

“Why?” 

He leans against the desk, looking up at Rowan through his thick lashes. Rowan swallows once, unnerved by the look in Lorcan’s eyes. “You know,” Lorcan begins casually, “if you buy me a drink, I might just tell you all my secrets.” 

“You’re such a pig,” Rowan hisses, checking his phone for the time. Lorcan notices the action and draws back in mock offence. 

“Rowan Whitethorn! Are you waiting for this to be over?” 

Rowan gives him a flat look and Lorcan shakes his head slowly, “Wow. You’re breaking my heart, pretty boy.” 

“Don’t call me that.” 

“But you’re so pretty.” 

“Do your work.” Lorcan grins as he passes his pages over. He stands up, grabbing his bag. “Where are you going, we’re not done yet.” 

“Oh, I think you’ll be very happy with my progress, Whitethorn,” he teases, bending down to kiss Rowan’s cheek, “See you next time, pretty boy.” 

He’s gone before Rowan can yell at him and Rowan sits there, dumbly lifting his hand to press his fingers against the tingling spot where the kiss still lingers. 

It’s a few minutes later when he looks down at the paper, reading through it. It’s good. Really good. 

Rowan wants so badly to hate Lorcan Salvaterre and yet… 

And yet. 

+*+*+*+*+*+*

“No.” 

“Yes.” 

“No, I’m not going with you.” 

Lorcan pouts, making his eyes big and wide, “C’mon, please? Just for a bit! It'll be fun, I promise.” 

Rowan crosses his arms over his chest, narrowing his eyes, “No, I’m not going to the party. And not with you.” 

With a loud and tortured sigh, Lorcan slinks down in his chair, petulantly knocking his foot into Rowan’s, “Come with me to the party.” 

“No. Pay attention.” 

Lorcan kicks him again, whining, “C’mon, please?” 

Rowan sighs, moving his foot away and idly flipping through a book, “No.” Lorcan kicks his foot repeatedly, over and over and over until finally Rowan lets out a curse in the Old Language, “If I say yes, will you stop kicking me and pay attention?” 

“Yes,” Lorcan says, sitting up straight. His eyes are bright, excited, even, “Do you really mean it? You’ll go with me?” 

Rolling his eyes, Rowan nods, “Yeah, now do you work.” 

“Wow, so bossy.” 

“Oh gods, I hate you.” 

“No, you don’t.” 

No, he doesn’t. 

+*+*+*+*+*+*

Rowan laughs drunkenly as Lorcan cheers his beer pong victory with Fenrys, the two friends launching into a complicated handshake. 

It ends with an aggressive chest bump that sends Fenrys sprawling on his ass. Lorcan stands over him, laughing loudly and helping his friend up. Fenrys searches for another partner as Lorcan stumbles over to Rowan and flops down on the couch beside him. 

“You wanna know something, pretty boy,” Lorcan slurs, his eyes hazy. “It’s a secret,” he whispers in an exaggerated tone. “Very secret.” 

Rowan arches a brow, “I like secrets.” 

Lorcan nods, breathing in deeply, “You wanna know why I really beat that guy up? He deserved it.” 

“Really?” 

“Yup, he really did,” Lorcan nods again, his eyes growing sad. “I didn’t mean to break his knee. He just… he was saying he was gonna out me. Someone told him I wasn’t really dating Elide and we were each other’s beards and… I didn’t know how coach was gonna react, you know? So I just… kept him silent.” 

Rowan doesn’t know what to say, instantly sobered by the depressing secret. “Lorcan, I… I don’t know what to say. I’m sorry.” 

Lorcan waves his hand, picking at the hem of his oversized t-shirt. “‘t’s fine. It was a long time ago.” He sighs, nudging Rowan’s leg with his foot, “You wanna know something else?” 

“Is it sad?” 

“Mmm, maybe a lil pathetic, but I don’t think it’s sad,” Lorcan says, rolling his head against the couch to look at Rowan. 

Rowan nods, feeling fuzzy, “Tell me!” 

“I don’t need a tutor. I’m actually really good in that class.” 

He sits up straight, too far gone to connect the dots, “Well, why would you get one then? That’s not very smart.” 

Lorcan sighs, “Really, Ro? You can’t figure it out? Thought you were supposed to be the genius.” When Rowan stares at him blankly, Lorcan sighs again, the sound tortured, “Hellas below, pretty boy, I like you. I, like, like like you. I wanted to see you more. So I asked Emrys for a tutor.” 

“You like like me? Really?” 

“Mm-hmm. You’re, like, my favourite person in the world.” 

Rowan gawks, blinking stupidly. “Shut up.” 

“What, why?” 

“‘Cause you’re making fun of me again,” he grumbles, angry that his heart did a little jump when Lorcan said it. “It’s not very nice.” 

Lorcan sits up straight, reaching out to gently cup Rowan’s neck. His eyes are hazy, but true and open. “Ro… it’s not a joke. I wouldn’t make fun of you.” Rowan rolls his eyes and Lorcan laughs softly, fixing it, “Like this. I really, really like you. I mean it.” 

“Really?” 

Lorcan only nods, his thumb idly stroking over Rowan’s jaw. He folds a leg underneath him so he can properly face Rowan. 

With a shaking breath, Rowan puts his cup down and fists his hands in Lorcan’s shirt, pulling him close. Lorcan takes the invitation to fit his mouth against Rowan’s, kissing him deeply. Rowan whimpers slightly, looping his arms around Lorcan’s head. He tastes like shitty beer and something sweet and Rowan whispers softly, “I like like you too, L. A lot. And you look cute in glasses and I’ve never hated you.” 

“I know,” Lorcan says smugly, pulling Rowan onto his lap. “Who could hate a face like mine?” 

“Gods above,” he mutters, nipping at Lorcan’s lower lip, “maybe I do hate you.” 

“No, you don’t.” 

“No.” Rowan pulls back, softly brushing Lorcan’s hair back and looking down into his eyes, “I don’t.” 

+*+*+*+*+*+*

just a lil something soft :) i’ve been working. on something. 

@mythicaitt @ladyverena @keshavomit @empress-ofbloodshed @ladywitchling @darklesmylove @shyvioletcat @the-regal-warrior @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln @thewayshedreamed @sassyhobbits

[keilemlucent]

hands on

(r18+)

ao3

eraserhead | aizawa shouta x reader

word count: ~2k

anon asked: You could write something with Aizawa about how the reader might have just had their first kid or gained a lol weight/ their body has changed a lil and Aizawa just can’t get enough of it/ can’t keep his hands off you anymore??? 👀

oh say LESS (this was one of my baby warm up pieces, so unbeta’ed. enjoy!)

warnings: chubby reader, just smut, just nice cute p*rn

||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||

Wintertime was somewhat miserable, that was a given. Snow and cold would roll in, making the outside somewhat unbearable for any length of time. It was far easier to cozy up inside, especially when it was with you.

Shouta had called off patrol, having gotten injured enough the night prior for it to be warranted.

(You also bribed/nagged him with a new, warm recipe in exchange for self-care and an evening in, but that’s beside the point).

He’d spent most of his day off napping, lying on the couch half asleep. You hardly minded, working away in the kitchen and whispering idly to the cats. You both knew he needed the rest.

It was later on, in one of his more wakeful moments, that Shouta noticed something.

You had gotten... thicker.

It was probably your more sedentary tendencies during winter, and the fact that you had been cooking more, but it was undeniable that you had gained a bit of weight.

Shouta watched you from the couch, feigning sleepiness so he could drink in his new discovery.

You were only wearing one of his big t-shirts, soft with use, and a cute pair of panties from an older lingerie set, colored a cute baby pink. With so little on, it was easy to see the new roundness of your middle. Shouta felt his dick twitch at the thought of leaving the plushness of your inner thighs painted red and purple by his mouth. He just loved the way your skin bruised so well for him.

Fuck.

You stretched up to a cupboard, a high one. Your shirt slid up as well, showing more of your winter weight and God, Shouta was losing it. How had he not noticed?

The meat of your hips was thicker, love handles more prominent, maybe carrying a few extra stretch marks. Shouta swore he could see the extra chub of your stomach.

All he wanted was to worship your new flesh and skin while buried in your cunt.

The thought made his cock leak.

He was up in an instant, sliding behind you as you moved down from the cupboard.

You jumped a little when you felt his hands sliding over your hips through your shirt.

Turning, you flashed him a cheeky grin, “How are you doing, sleepy?”

“Very good,” Shouta practically purred, squeezing you. “Need any help?”

You leaned back into him, tilting your head to press a nip and a kiss into his jaw, “I’m alright. Food should be ready pretty soon.”

Shouta very much wanted a different sort of meal than the one you were so diligently preparing. He had other appetites to sate.

“How long?” He pressed a kiss to the shell of your ear, relishing the way your body fell back into him.

“Mmmmmm,” You hummed, looking back at the oven. “Maybe half an hour. Why?”

Shouta was already lifting your shirt to get to your squishier bits.

His hands went to cup your ass, making him damn near moan at the feeling of his fingers sinking into the warmth of your skin.

Had you always been this soft? It was winter, your skin should’ve been far drier. Then again, Shouta had been busy lately. Perhaps he hadn’t been tending to you and your body like he should’ve been, making it all the easier for your incredibly cute weight gain to pass him by.

He doesn’t waste any time, hauling you up by your ass, forcing your legs to wrap his waist. You let out a shocked gasp, hands going to clasp behind Shouta’s neck to keep some semblance of balance. It’s not like Shouta would ever let you fall, but the sensation of suddenly getting dumped onto the kitchen island was a bit jarring.

“S-Shouta?” You asked as he gently pushed you down onto the icy granite of the countertop.

God, his dick twitched at the slight tremor in your voice. Your shoulders hit the countertop as he licked a stripe up the fragile skin of your neck. Your hands were wound into the back of his shirt, legs trembling around his waist.

His hands were all over you.

Your shirt was pushed up to your neck, the cold air biting at you just as much as Shouta was. His worn hands couldn’t stop finding new places to touch. They sought out and claimed every bit of new flesh they could, squeezing and leaving crescent imprints.

The way he already sunk into your body made him melt. You were all warm sounds and keening moans that certainly hardened his cock just the same.

His hands skirted over your tummy, feeling the extra fat and squishing it between his fingers. Shouta was surprised as stuttering, low whine came from your mouth.

Oh.

Your head turned bashfully to the side bottom lip caught in teeth while you absolutely trembled.

Shouta ran a hand over your curves once more, taking careful note of how your eyes squeezed shut and your thighs clenched around his waist.

You were very into this too, weren’t you?

Shouta gave a low chuckle, leaning to lick and kiss up to your tummy and chest, hands all too happy to keep up with your mutual desires. Dinner be damned, snow outside forgotten; you were to be fucked well and proper.

“W-what brought this on?” You managed to ask, breath hitches as Shouta slides his hand over your sex.

He toyed with the elastic at the seam of your panties, humming, “Just noticed how cute you are.”

You rolled your eyes at that, half-snorting and tangling a hand in Shouta’s dark hair, “I think you notice that most of the time. Why jump me during dinner?”

Shouta hummed to himself for a minute, thumb rubbing over your clothed clit. You shook against him, head falling so prettily against the island beneath you.

“I just really love all of you,” Shouta’s voice came out husky and low as he left a sharp bite on your collar bone. “Just realized there’s a little more to love, hm?”

That made a blush of pure crimson dance over your cheekbones as you turned your head from him. Just bashful enough to be cute, and still very into things if the pressure of your thighs on his waist was any estimate.

Your attention was quickly brought back to him as he pulled your panties to the side to slip two thick fingers into your sex.

“Fuck, Shouta!” You cried out, back arching as his fingers curled.

His free hand took to massaging any part of you that it could. Your nipples were rubbed raw by toughened thumbs and your love handles would certainly be bruised the next day.

His fingers pumped slowly in and out of your cunt, stretching and spreading you just enough to be ready for his cock. Shouta truly wanted nothing more than to be buried within the plushness of your thighs and pussy, but he wasn’t about to prepare you half-assedly.

You melted over the counter for him, breath coming out in cute puffs and gasps. Shouta lavished you with kisses to your tummy and thighs, drowning in every part of you.

He withdrew his fingers with a pop, sucking them clean. You whined so sweetly for him, starting to sit up, eyeing his obvious bulge with hungry eyes.

“Not today, kitten,” Shouta purred, rolling your shoulders back into the island. “Maybe later if you want a snack, hm?”

The high, sweet noise that came strangled from your lips made him fuckingmelt.

Shouta didn’t even bother fully taking off his sweats. He just pulled the fabric down enough for his fully hardened cock to pop up.

You visibly gulped.

“I’d love to give you a taste,” Shouta licked his lips at the thought of your pretty mouth stretched around his cock. “But, you do have dinner in the oven, hm?”

You could only frown for a moment before Shouta hiked your legs over his shoulder. Your feet hooked behind his head, trying to drag him closer to you.

You whined, slicked lips parted, “ P-please, Shou’ ”

“Hmmm?” Shouta hummed, pressing a stray kiss to the underside of your breast. Your legs were pressed against your heaving chest as you shook (already) for him. “Want my cock, kitten?”

You nodded quickly for him, shifting your hips with impatience. You normally were more well behaved than this, but Shouta decided to indulge you this once. You were certainly indulging him, letting him throw you up over the countertop while in the middle of cooking.

Shouta was sure you'd complain a little bit about whatever slick and sweat was left on the countertop. He was also sure that you’d have no qualms with licking it up yourself if he gave the incentive of getting his cock down your throat.

But, that was for later.

Shouta teased along your folds, laying a hand flat on your pudgy stomach. He eased in slowly, letting out his own shaking cursed as he felt you physically fill up for him through your tummy.

“ Fuck,” It was all he could push out as you clenched down around him, pulling him closer.

You pulled him into a sweet kiss, one hand loosely cupping his jaw as he slowly pulled back.

He left hand-shaped bruises on your hips as he squeezed down your rounded hips, eyes rolling back in his head as he thrust quickly and harshly back into you.

You let out your own lovely, keening stream of sounds as he began to pound into you.

It was almost overwhelming to Shouta, how much of you he wanted to feel and hold of you at the same time. One of his hands stayed constantly clutching at one of your love handles, while the other greedily felt up the rest of you.

He gave soft encouragement to you, pouring like sweet cream from his lips; all loving remarks and sentiments about your body, the way it looked, and felt against his own.

Sweat dripped down the bridge of his nose as your slick dribbled (as prophesized) onto the countertop below. Your back arched so well for him as his thumb drifted over your clit a few times.

“Do you want to come, baby?” Shouta’s voice oozed over you, all low and rumbling. Your hold on his shoulders tightened as you nodded, pulling at him to press your lips together.

Shouta obliged.

You kiss him with everything you had. He could tell by the way your hands tugged in his hair, tongue licking into his mouth as you moaned and cried for him.

His torso pressed down into the meat of your own, squishing you in the counter as he fucked you without rest. His hand felt and squeezed whenever they could, drinking in every morsel of your figure. It just made his dick get harder even as he was plowing into you. He was only spurred by feeling the way your cunt fluttered and dripped for him.

The pads of his fingers circled your clit, pressing and keeping rhythm as you so beautifully came undone.

Shouta’s free hand gripped your hip as you came for him, bearing down on his cock as he stilled in tandem. He couldn’t help his own release when you just were so fucking stunning. Having you spread out for him, slick skin pressing to his own, already had him halfway from the start.

You kissed Shouta again as he fucked into you once, twice, and a third time as your shuddering sex milked his cock dry. With a soft sigh, you pulled away, eyes shiny.

You gave him a cute smile, breathlessly kissing the corner of his mouth.

Shouta did his best to help you lean forward, sitting on the countertop.

“So,” Your voice was scratchy as you beamed at him. “Dinner?”

As fate would have it, your timer went off a moment later.

Shouta could only chuckle, smothering you in kisses, unable to keep his hands off you for long.

[harrysgoldenbum]

Want You pt. 2

Sorry for the delay, but having you internet crash does that to you. I hope you like pt. 2 ;) The last and final part should be up tomorrow... hopefully! thanks again @andwhenshesays @for-fucks-sake-h and @oh-honey-styles for letting me join the fun!

Catch up: Part 1

--Y/N gives in, but things don’t go as planned--

Word count: 2.6K

Warnings: Smut

Y/N is going to have to get a new vibrator. All week she has imagined Harry pleasuring her. Y/N would make herself cum multiple times and she still was not satisfied. Even temporary. She’s been thing about how Harry’s lips felt against her skin. The words he whispered to her. 

She laid there in bed with her hands holding her vibrator between her legs. She imagines Harry’s perfect lips trailing down her neck to her chest. She imagines what it would feel like for him to suck on her hard nipples. She imagines him looking down at her, chest glistening with sweat. She imagines what his cock would look like, and how it would feel as he fucks her to oblivion. 

But, she absolutely hates him. 

But the pulse of her pussy makes it hard for her to think of anything else. She doesn’t want to fantasize about her best friend’s ex-boyfriend fucking her… or her fucking him. Y/N knows that Harry didn’t cheat on June but that doesn’t mean that he didn’t hurt her. He is everything that she doesn’t like about a guy. He has an ego that’s the size of the universe, and he thinks that all women want him. 

She suddenly drags her vibrator down her fold and slides it into her. Y/N shudders and bites her bottom lip. She tries to move past the thoughts that will piss her off, she pulls her device out of her cunt and slides the smooth surface over her clit. She gasps out in pleasure. Once again her vibrator enters her pussy and Y/N imagines it to be Harry’s cock. 

“Oh! Fuck!” She calls out. Moving her hands faster and faster. She believes that Harry would only fuck her hard and fast.  

Dragging the device over he clit again, Y/N loses all control. She starts to pluck her own nipples and starts to thrust upward, toward her pleasure machine. She wishes Harry was here with her right now. She wishes it was him bringing her closer and closer to her orgasm. 

“Fuck! Fuck!” Y/N shouts, she fists her bedsheets, her wetness dripping down onto them. She gets closer and closer to her finish. She can just picture his cocky smirk as her drives into her. Flicking her clit one last time, Y/N cums. Hard. 

“OH GOD!!!” she shouts.

She is in a daze for the next few minutes. Y/N takes her time to come back down to earth before she gets up to go to the bathroom to clean herself. 

By the time she gets back, her phone has lit up by a text message. 

Harry: I guess we both like sleeping with our windows open. You sound so hot fucking yourself. I am rock hard right now. 

Y/N freezes,  moisture starts to collect between her legs once again. She contemplates on sending him a message telling him to come to her apartment, but she gets another text. 

Harry: I bet you were thinking about my dick just now. Tell me Y/N how badly do you want my hard dick?

And just like that, annoyance flares up in Y/N. Consuming any feeling she was having for him in that moment. 

Y/N: Do yourself a favor and quit flattering yourself. Your dick has nothing on my vibrator. 

She slams her phone down on her dresser and climbs into bed. She tells herself that she hates Harry Styles and hopes for a peaceful rest of the night and sleep. Y/N doesn’t get what she wanted. Harry Styles followed her into her dreams. 

~~~~~~~~

“I think the universe is trying to tell us something.” 

Y/N spins around in her bar stool and finds Harry Styles standing in front of her dressed in dark jeans and flannel with half the buttons unbuttoned. She bites her lip and takes a deep breath. He looks damn good. 

“Is the universe trying to tell me that you are officially stalking me?!” 

He leans onto the bar counter and laughs. “Nope,” he says popping the p. “Just another coincidence.” He points to a group of guys that occupy the high tables in the middle of the bar. “It’s one of my mate’s birthday, so we are out celebrating.”

“I’m meeting my sister here for a few drinks and dinner… if she gets here on time.” Y/N tells him with a shrug. Turning away from him, secretly hoping her sister won’t see her with him. She can already hear the questions she would ask. 

“Whatever the reason, I am happy to see you” Harry grins. 

Y/N feels butterflies erupt in her belly as she looks at Harry from the corner of her eye. It has been a bit over two weeks since their last conversation and she hasn’t heard from him since. Many times, Y/N would type out a message to send him, only for her to delete it. She had even gone as far as considering knocking at his door. She had gotten used to the attention he gave her, and his flirting did help with her ego. 

She goes to say something, only to be nearly pushed out of her chair and nearly into Harry. Harry steadies her with his large hands. 

“Oh, shit! My bad,” the large man said, even though he was trying to look down her top. “Let me buy you a drink babe,” he offers as he goes to touch Y/N. 

Before she can say she not interested, Harry wraps his arm around her should and faces the guy. “Back off man, she’s with me.” 

Shocked, Y/N looks at Harry and looks pissed. 

“Shit! Okay, okay.” the man turns to leave.

Y/N shakes his arm off her and looks at him. She doesn’t know what to do. So she just sits there and stares at him. 

“Another reason not to hate my guts,” Harry starts. “I will fight assholes that bother you.” 

Y/N is just about to say thank you, but Harry’s friend comes over and leans heavily on him. 

“Are you gonna stand here and talk to this pretty girl all night or are you going to get drunk with us Styles? Because you have fallen behind.”

With a small smile, she tells Harry to go and have fun, just as her sister walks into the bar. 

~~~~~~~~

Y/N and her sister are just about done with their dinner when she gets up to use the restroom. In the hallway, she sees Harry coming out of the men’s room. He stops a few feet away from the restroom doors and waits for Y/N to reach him.

“How was dinner?” he asks. 

“Alright, same questions and same answers. Tried the steak salad.” Y/N said vaguely, even though throughout dinner, all Y/N could think about was Harry sitting a couple of yards away from her. 

“You know I can grill a delicious steak.” Harry steps closer to her, their chests nearly touching each other. Y/N’s breath falters. “If you’d give me a chance… I’ll make it worth your time.” 

“Why are you doing this,” she whispers. “What do you want from me?”

Harry’s eyes trail across her face. “You really don’t know, do you?” 

Y/N frowns at his question. She starts a different conversation with him. “Okay, look I admit, maybe you aren’t that bad of a guy. But I usually don’t go for the arrogant, overconfident dude who sees himself as a gift for the female race.”

A grin takes over his face and a low chuckle leaves his mouth. He looks so happy, Y/N’s breath catches in her throat.

“You should stop fighting it, love.” He looks pleased with her confession. “I already heard you through the window how bad you want it.”

With a scowl, “You know that isn’t going to help your case.” 

Raising his hands up as an act of surrender, “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

With a sigh, Y/N roles her eyes. She looks into his eyes and as cliche, as it sounds, gets lost in them. Both Harry and Y/N don’t know how long they stand there, in each other’s presence. It wasn’t until someone bumped into Harry’s shoulder do they break away from each other. 

With a heavy sigh, Y/N breaks their silence, “There’s still June.”

Harry stiffens at the mention of her name. 

“Looks, it’s been six months and yeah we didn’t end on the best terms, but I never lied to her. We would have broken up anyway. She wanted to move across and I didn’t. It wouldn’t have worked out. 

Y/N takes in every word, it was almost like he was pleading for her to believe him and to give him a shot. Like he was begging her not to hold this against him forever. 

Pushing the subject of June out of her mind, Y/N tries to focus on something else. Anything else. “You don’t even know anything about me,” she starts. Trying to come up with reasons why they won’t work as the last stand of defense. 

“So give me the chance to, love.” 

Just as she is about to respond, Y/N’s sister comes in looking for her. “Oh! There you are! I’ve been waiting for you! I was wondering where you disappeared to! I have to get home Jack has an earache and Danny is hopeless with the baby. Do you need a ride?” 

With a glance toward Harry, she tells her sister that she will be right out. As her oblivious sister leaves, she turns back to Harry. “I’ll see you around Harry.”

He leans down and kisses her cheek and steps out of her way. 

~~~~~~~~

Y/N wasn’t sure about what was going on. Were they on a date? She looks at Harry from the corner of her eye. He’s sitting on her couch watching a movie. Y/N isn’t even sure what movie is playing, but that’s the only source of lighting in the room. 

He had stopped by to drop off more of his baked goods. This time it was red velvet cupcakes with buttercream. (Y/N had texted him to tell him how much she had liked his coffee cake.) And somehow that led to her inviting him in for a movie. 

They were sitting close to each other but they were not touching. Harry hadn’t tried to put the moves on her yet. The way he was sitting, it clearly indicated that his focus was solely on the movie. 

She let her eyes roam over his side profile. His defined jaw, his straight nose, his tattooed arm, and his plump lips. When she was least expecting it, Harry starts to turn his head toward her. She quickly shifted her eyes to the TV, hoping that he didn’t catch her staring at him. 

She knows that she is overdoing the ‘hard to get’ challenge she had set up for him. At this point, she doesn’t care anymore. She knows that he isn’t Prince Charming, nor is he her White Knight. But she wants him. She wants him to fuck her. 

Taking a deep breath, she leans forward and places her hand on his forearm. Harry looks at her with confusion. Y/N looks into his eyes before she lowers her gaze to his full lips. 

She moves toward him slowly, wanting to pull his lower lip into her mouth. When she is no more than a half an inch away, he turns his head. Completely stopping Y/N. 

Shocked, Y/N freezes. Suddenly the humiliation catches up to her, she pulls away and crawls to the farthest end of the sofa. 

“Oh my god… oh god!” She mutters running her hands through her hair. 

“Y/N,” Harry begins in what sounds like a patronizing voice. She wants her living room floor to swallow her whole. 

“Shut up!” she snaps. “Shut the fuck up! Get out Harry! Get out of my house!” She can’t look at him. She wants to erase this moment from her life. “I can’t believe you get me to the point where you’ve got me so worked up and actually want you, and what do you do?! You reject me.” 

“Y/N,” he tries again. This time just a little louder. But Y/N still can’t look at him. 

“Please leave,” she begs. 

Before she knows it, Harry is pulling her leg and she is flat on her back. He settles between her legs. 

“Will you listen to me!?” His hands move toward her shorts and he pulls them down her legs. 

She gasps in shock. Her heart beating so fast she is worried she might pass out. Y/N is left in her cotton panties and her baggy shirt. Harry pulls his own athletic shorts down and once again places himself between her legs. 

“You don’t think I don’t want this?” He growls in her ear, he presses his rock hard cock against her. His heat and the friction caused by his rutting has her crying out in pleasure. 

He pushes against her again, Harry feels her wetness seep as it through her underwear. Y/N is overwhelmed by the pleasure he is giving her. The way he moves his hips has her panting in minutes. She circles her legs around the back of his thighs and starts to follow his rhythm. Amplifying the euphoria. 

She has never enjoyed dry humping so fucking much. 

“Harry!” She cries out when he moves his hand down and into her panties. He finds her clit and starts rubbing in a circular motion. 

“I love hearing you say my name,” he pants. He drops his head to her neck and starts to press kisses along it. “Is this what you wanted,” his growls when his pleasure starts to overtake his body. He pinches her nipple through her shirt. 

Y/N arches toward him. She feels hollow, empty, like something important is missing. “Oh god!” she moans. 

“What,” Harry whispers, “huh? What’s the matter? You want my cock?”

He starts to hump her faster. “Is that what your needy pussy wants?” 

Y/N cries out as she cums. Her orgasm washes over her and she watches Harry through her lowered eyelids. He ruts against her once, twice, three times before he cups himself and cums in his had. 

He cleans himself up and pulls his shorts back on. Y/N feels like her body is floating like she had no control over it. 

Nasty thoughts start to invade her and she does what she can to push them out of her mind. 

“Don’t feel like you have to stay until the movies over,” she forces out, “we both got what we wanted.” 

Harry’s face crumbles. Hurt, he pulls away and sits up. Not looking in her direction. 

“What?!” Y/N snaps defensively. “You didn’t want to kiss me. So I don’t expect you to want to stay and cuddle.” 

Harry stands from his seat and starts to walk to the door. Just as he is going to open the door, he turns to face her. “I didn’t kiss you Y/N, because when I kiss you for the first time, I want it to be real. I want you more than an easy fuck.”

The words shock Y/N. She stands and looks at him. Really looks at him. 

She took to long to respond, so Harry opens the door and looks at her one more time. “Don’t worry, I won’t get my hopes up on you wanting the same thing from me that I want from you.”

He closes the door softly, leaving Y/N alone in her apartment. With one thought ringing clearly in her mind. Harry Styles was not who she thought he was. 

 Part 3 Here

[terracottaalchemist]

Merry Christmas @hexalianrebel-blackfeathers !!

I'm a little rusty with my writing but I hope you like it! Happy Squealing Santa

Special thanks to @ticklygiggles for organizing everything❤️

🎁🎄🎁🎄🎁🎄🎁🎄🎁🎄🎁🎄🎁🎄🎁🎄🎁🎄

The Grand Highblood was a name that churned every sane troll's stomach. Ruthless, unpredictable, purple blood twisted inside him, cold, fueling a strength only rivaled by the Royal seadwellers. Signless could deal with the cruelty of the Empress, handle the attacks from his voilet oppressors, but not this. Nothing could have prepared him for this.

Signless tugged once again at the sharp, iron cuffs on his hands, thick and noisy in the silent cell. He had always known that one day his luck would run out, that he would finally be captured, but there was gratitude in his heart that the subjugglers left his friends and followers alone. So long as he kept quiet, he would be executed with the knowledge of where Dolarosa, Deciple, and Psiioniic were going safely tucked in his soul.

His feet were bound in frigid chains, sharp on the bones of his ankles. A small light shone overhead, enough to glint off the rusted bars, but not the concrete floor. He could see every exhale curl through the air in white smoke. So cold.

At the very least, Signless could hear every time the guard came within 20 meters of his cell from the sheer weight of his leather footsteps. His stomach gurgled for more of the grub paste he'd been given yesterday, but his tongue prickled preemptively with the phantom taste of bitter acid and bile. The guard stepped into view behind the row of bars, but there was no grub paste. Just keys as they jangled around the lock on the door, which opened with a piercing whine. The guard grunted, motioning with his hand to come closer, clutching a familiar black cloth.

Two guards, ahead and behind him, led Signless through the halls on two chain leashes. The blindfold was tied tightly to his face, forcing his focus to the tiles under his bare soles, the rough material of the unwashed trousers he was given, and the chains. As they climbed an oak staircase, the temperate rose to a more comfortable chill. Signless sighed, but chokes on a sudden, harsh tug backwards. They stopped. A hard knock rang against wood close to his head, but he couldn't move away if he tried. The door opened with a dull click and Signless was lead inside.

Living all his life as a renegade, Signless considered his senses to be rather sharp. But he was preoccupied with the chains on his wrists being pulled over his head so harshly that his heels barely brushed the floor. Far too preoccupied to hear the even more massive boots against the floor until they were far too close.

"That's enough, motherfucker."

That voice. Everyone knew that voice. Signless shifted his weight back, but the chain holding him up was taut and heavy. He hung there, swaying, like an oink beast carcass.

The blindfold was yanked down to his neck, colours and lights striking his mutated eyes. Signless blinked into focus, and took in the sheer sight that was The Grand Highblood. Doubling Signless' height, his wild hair framed his shoulders and wavy horns, adding even more height. Blood-curling, white paint stuck to his face, applied with careful detail to resemble the teeth of a deep-sea horror. With a sway in his step, The Grand Highblood began circling around his prized prisoner.

"You're real fuckin' short, aren't you?"

Signless turned to look at him, but kept his mouth shut. There is only one reason to keep a troll like himself alive, after all, even if it's only for the time being. He would not crack. He couldn't. A sharp slap cut across his cheek, the mark flushing an offensive red. Signless hadn't even see him move.

"Let's make one thing motherfucking clear," Grand Highblood spat. "When I ask you a question, you best give me an answer. Understand?"

Signless licked his lips, his jaw pulsing from the single, half-hazard strike. "Yes."

"Good." He pulled the blindfold back up with a single claw, this time allowing more light to seep through. There was a snap of fingers, a grunt of acknowledgment, and the rough scraping of wood on stone as some sort of furniture was dragged closer, just out of Signless' kicking range.

"Now then, let's not waste any more motherfucking god damn time." The three seconds of silence stretch between them, tensing like a rubber band until it snaps around the Grand Highblood's words. "Where are your apostles?"

Signless gripped back his displays of relief. His friends had not been found, nor will they be without his help. He was the only one on Alternia that knew where they were, and he swore to keep it that way, regardless of the cost.

"Maybe you didn't hear me." He circled again, but much slower, coming to a stop directly behind Signless. "Shit, I'm feeling downright merciful today, so I'll repeat myself one more motherfucking time. Where are your fucking apostles, mutant?"

Signless forced down a shiver, tugging gently at his wrists one more time. Not a chance.

"I was hoping you'd say that. Now I get to have me some motherfucking entertainment!"

Sharp, unkept nails skittered up his defenceless sides, forcing a surprised giggle from the preacher's lips. What on Alternia?

"Honk! Look how sensitive you are! Your skin is even weaker than that of a Rustie, already turning red. What a motherfucking miracle! It must be my hatching day all up in this bitch!"

Signless squirmed, feeling 1000 times more exposed than he did before. Every memory of being tickled absolutely senseless flashed through his eyes, each filled with more tears than the last. Psi had been his most common assaulter. On the bright side, no bodily harm would come to him this way. He just had to bear it until he finds a way to escape, and said escape won't be hindered by serious inquiries. A slight grin tugged at his lips as he clenched his jaw. A little tickling never killed anyone.

Without warning, two pairs of knuckles slotted themselves between his grub scars and dug furiously. Lightning shot through his nerves straight to his spine, his sense of touch heightened by the loss of vision. A guffaw tore out of Signless' throat before he could clamp his mouth shut, as he kicked off the floor to escape the sensations. It tickled so bad, so so bad. But he wouldn't dare laugh.

"Oho, a fighter! You can try that shit for now, but once you're all burnt out, you'll break easy. You're helpless."

Signless bit his lip harder, calves and shoulders quickly protesting all his movement. The knuckles dropped to his bottom ribs, continuing their ministrations. Finally, laughter broke free like water to a dam, harsh and powerful with the pressure. Shame burned his cheeks. Signless spun sideways to throw off the attacker's hands, but Grand Highblood quickly dragged him back into place. The millisecond of relief only allowed him to regret thinking this form of torture would be easy.

"Ha! You think you can escape, bitch? You're weak. I don't even know your worst spots yet."

"Hahahahahaha, oh fuhuhuck!" Nuckles turned to claws as they traveled up and down his sides, spidering quickly. Down to his hips, up, down, up, down, and up further to his lower ribs, still buzzing and flushed. Suddenly, each trip down was a promise to explore higher and higher, until both hands slid way too high to attack his armpits.

"AHAHA! No, nohoho fuck ohofff!" Signless squealed, thrashing as best he could but failing to lower his arms at all. He curled one knee up as high as he could, but it only threw him off balance as pain stabbed at his shoulders. He was truly, utterly, trapped.

The Grand Highblood chuckled darkly behind him. "Is it too much already? How motherfucking pathetic."

His fingers skittered across his torso and sides for what felt like hours and hours, until Signless' laughs became gasps and chokes, eyes falling in and out of focus. Whenever he got even slightly used to the sensation, Grand Highblood would just switch spots.

"HAHA....ahaAA.. p.. ehehaha .pleheheease!"

"You know how to make it stop, motherfucker. Where did they run off to?"

The temptation was there, as much as it pained him. The tickling was too much, he was going crazy. "I-ahaha! C-c-ahan't!"

A rough growl cut through the air, and the tickling stopped. The hands held his ribs roughly, but he finally caught his breathe in progressively deeper inhales. The relief was short lived, however, as two more footspets got closer. Probably more guards, but he still couldn't see for himself.

Seconds later, the tickling resumed threefold. Thirty fingers danced across his skin, in his armpits, ribs, and the rest were fluttering across his belly and squeezing his hips. He heard a girl chuckling at him, and a small "oh" from a young man.

Kids, 8 sweeps at most. With renewed energy, Signless' bucked hard, shaking his head side to side as he began kicking at whoever was in front of him. The first missed, but the second came into contact with a clothes torso. Instead of launching his assaulter back, his ankle was yanked forwards and caught between their body and arm. Stupid highblood strength!

Sharp nails teased his arch skillfully and he shrieked.

"Ooh, boss! Looks like I found a good one!" She said with more giggling.

"Good work, bitch. Keep it up," The Grandhighblood repied.

With one foot in the air, Signless' struggling turned into pathetic twitches and jolts. He scrunched his toes as hard as he could, but the girl simply pried them back and continued. When she reached under his toes, tears started forming in his eyes.

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHA- AAAAA NOHOHOHO!! nOT THEEEHEHERE!"

"Not where? Here? Are your toes reeeally bad? Is that a really /ticklish/ spot for you?" She teased.

Heat dripped down his neck in embarrassment, even his back began flushing.

"Oh, do you not like that word? Tickle? But you're so ticklish! Tickle tickle tickle, I bet it feels sooo baaaddd~"

"Aha, hahaha! Dohhohoon't!" He pleaded.

"Don't what?"

"Mock meehehe!"

He could feel the venom dripping from her voice. "Mock you? If you wish!"

"Enough, child." The Grand Highblood interrupted. "He needs to focus."

She didn't respond but she dropped his leg. His hypersensitive toes barely brushed the floor before she yanked his other from underneath him, raking her nails over his entire sole hard and fast.

At the same time, the quiet boy shifted his hands down to squeeze at Signless' defenceless thigh.

"NOOOOOHOHOHOA! HAHAHAHA!"

Grand highblood continued to switch from spiders to digs and jabs at his armpits, while the other two scratched and squeezed his shaking legs and feet. After only a few minutes, white flickers of light bloomed under Signless' eyelids, head spinning as it forced his every breath out in raw, desperate laughter. His lungs began to burn.

"no- hahahhaha, nnhaha..noho more..no mohohoore!"

"You can make this all go away, motherfucker. Just tell is where they are and we'll stop."

"haha....n..no.."

"We won't stop until you're fucking dead. But it's gonna be a looking time till this gets you. Weeks, maybe even months"

Signless shuddered, body limp from exhaustion as all three of them tickled both his sensitive sides without care for his pleading.

"Or, you could spare yourself all the trouble now...and we'll make sure your end is swift and painless. You're finished anyways, and we'll find your followers with or without your help. So why suffer?"

His eyes rolled around in his skull, head pointing with blood lacking oxygen. His laugher fell quiet ages ago, but as it became silent his senses began to fail.

"Where are those motherfuckers hiding?"

Body numb and buzzing all at once, Signless forced one last breath through his aching throat, before the sweep lull of unconsciousness took him.

"..if that's what it takes, I will be their sufferer."

[somethinginthewayiam]

Midnight training session

(This is a continuation of Midnight tease and part of the Midnight-series)

Pairing: Henry x reader

Warnings: kissing, (not so) light smut

Words: 1974

Summary: You were the last one at the training hall, working on your sword fighting skills, always failing at one certain move, which made you curse out loud in frustration. Henry heard you when he walked by and wanted to help you out...

a/n: After writing Midnight tease and setting the scene at a Witcher boot camp, I had some other ideas for (rather dirty) moments between Henry and reader. So, here’s your next adventure together!

PS: tag list is always open!!

tag list:

@omgkatinka​

“Shit”, you grunted in frustration as the sword fell out of your hand again when you spun around. Why could you just not get it right?

The trainer has shown you the move multiple times in slow motion, explained to you every step of the way, every hand move and still, every time you spun around, your wrist got twisted too far and your fingers opened. You had even pulled up the video of Henry explaining his sword fight on YouTube on your phone.

You have been in the training hall for a few hours now. It was almost midnight and everybody had long left the training grounds and gone back to the house. You knew it would probably be better if you gave your arm some rest and continue tomorrow, but you also knew you wouldn’t be able to sleep if you couldn’t figure it out and get it right at least one time. There was a big fight scene rehearsal with a lot of people coming up in a few days and you would be the center of the fight. Pressure was up.

You took a sip from your water bottle and shook your hands to relax them. You made big circles with your arms back and forth before you picked up your sword once again.

“Okay, it’s just you and me, buddy”, you said to your sword. Alright, now you lost it completely.

You took a deep breath and tried it again. This time you came almost all the way around, your sword still in hand and a smile started to form on your face, but before you could finish your move, the rubber blade hit your calf and it got thrown out of your hand. AGAIN.

“FUCK!”, you screamed out in frustration towards the ceiling. You were so angry at yourself that you kicked the sword so hard, it slid over the floor towards the exit.

“Bad day?”, you heard from the door and spun around. You saw Henry standing there, your sword at his feet. “You could say so”, you said and bent down to grab your towel. You patted down your face and rubbed the sweat off your neck.

You watched as Henry put his foot under the sword, kicked it up and caught it with his hand. He made a few overhand swings as he came towards you.

“Showoff”, you said as you threw your towel back to the ground. “Sorry, it’s automatic by now”, he said with an apologetic grin.

“You’re still up?”, you asked him, your breath quickening as he came closer to you. “I was finishing up my workout and was on my way back when I saw the light in here. And then I heard you cursing”, he smiled lightly. “Sorry about that”, you apologized.

“Your technique is pretty good, but you’re standing wrong”, he told you and pointed at your feet with the sword in his hand. “If you widen your stance, your body has more stability and can focus on wielding the sword instead of keeping you up-right”, he told you and showed you how to stand.

You mimicked his stance and closely watched as he spun around with the sword, perfectly maneuvering it through the air, completing the move you always failed at.

You could really see the way he was holding the sword and how easy his movements looked, how much practice he had put into it.

“Now you try”, he said and handed you your sword. You felt a bit embarrassed by performing your barely existing sword skills in front of Henry.

You tried to remember everything he had just taught you, but it fell out of your hand again. “Try again, you almost had it”, he said as he picked up your sword and handed it to you.

You took a deep breath, closing your eyes for a second to visualize the movements you wanted to complete just as your trainer had taught you. You got into a wide stance, pulling all the strength you had left after a long day of training, and spun around with your sword. Your fingers holding on tightly to the handle, your wrist twisting just enough and when you came back around, you not only had your sword still in your hand, your stance was also strong and balanced.

You were so happy that you finally got it right, you let your sword fall to the floor, turned around and jumped into Henry’s arms with excitement. He automatically wrapped his arms around you as your legs wrapped around his waist and laughed with your cheering.

“YES! Finally!”, you called out and held on to his neck as you threw your head back laughing. “Thank you so much”, you said when you looked back down at him and before you knew what you were doing, you bent forward and just kissed him. It was out of pure joy and totally unintentional. You were aiming for his cheek, but he turned his head and it landed on his lips.

When you pulled your head back, you both looked at each other surprised.

You unwrapped your legs from his waist and he put you back down. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to…literally jump you…and kiss you, I’m sorry”, you said and took a step back. “It’s okay, really. We already did worse stuff”, he said and you thought back to last night when you two, out of nowhere really, had masturbated in front of each other in the bathroom.

“Yeah, about that…”, you said and felt your cheeks burning up. “That was so…I never do things like that, really. It was…”, you paused at a lack of words. “Hot?”, Henry suggested, almost a shy smile on his face. “Yes, it was”, you nodded and a shy giggle escaped your mouth.

“Well, I can’t say I haven’t done things like that before, but it’s definitely been a while. A long while”, he made sure to let you know.

You haven’t spoken to each other all day as each of you had different trainings and tasks to fulfill all over the camp ground. You didn’t know how he would want to treat your last night’s encounter and you thought it was better to act like it never happened. Only up to this point, you hadn’t been a 100% sure that it actually happened.

As the silence between you two got longer and, for you, uncomfortable, you picked up your water bottle from the floor. “Okay then…I’m just gonna put that back and then I’m off to bed”, you said and motioned over the training mat and sword before you stuffed your water bottle and towel into your training bag.

“Let me help you”, he said, grabbed the mat and walked over to the equipment room. You collected your sword and followed him.

While he put the mat back on the stack, you placed your sword in the locker with all the other training swords.

When you turned around, he was right behind you. The only light in the little room came from the open door connecting to the training hall. You looked up and vaguely made out his facial expression.

Unintentionally, you licked your lips and bit down on your bottom lip. Henry’s eyes darted down to your mouth and back to your eyes.

“I-I just wanted to let you know, that, uhm, about what just happened, I won’t invade your personal space like that again, if you’re worried about that…”, you stuttered your way through your sentence as he was so close to you in the little equipment room.

You felt his hands on your hips and gulped. Having him so close made you nervous. Contrary to last night, you were fully aware of your surroundings and sort of clear-headed.

“Did I give you the impression that I didn’t like it?”, he almost whispered and you could feel his breath on your face.

“N-No?”, it was more like a question. “And last night, it was me that invaded your personal space…in a way”, he said with a low voice, his thumbs running tiny circles on your hips.

“I didn’t mind”, you whispered and looked up at him. “I just wanted to say about the kiss before…”, your voice got lower with every word. “That wasn’t a kiss before”, he told you and his right index finger softly ran over your temple, along your jaw and under your chin, tilting your head up.

He slowly lowered his face towards yours. You closed your eyes in anticipation.

The next moment you felt his lips brush against yours, soft and gentle. You opened your mouth automatically and his tongue glided along your bottom lip, caressing it. You hummed against his lips.

Your hands found his big, upper arms, holding on to him as you felt your knees getting weak.

His hands cupped your face, caressing your cheek bones with his thumbs. Your tongue darted forward, looking for his. He sighed at the feeling and his tone made your fingernails scratch his skin.

He tried to hold himself back, but you tasted so good and he loved all the little sighs and sounds you made while his tongue explored your mouth, dancing with your tongue.

You moaned against his lips, pressing yourself hungrily against him. Your hands moved to cup his face while his arms wrapped around your back, holding you tightly against him.

Your kiss turned hungrier and more passionate by the second. Right then and there, you were asking yourself if it was possible to climax just from kissing?

You squirmed in his arms, pressing your pelvis against his, desperately looking for some friction. Henry moved his hands to your ass and picked you up. You immediately wrapped your legs around his waist again.

He walked backwards until he felt the stack of mats in his back and sat down with you on top of him. He leaned back until his back was flat on the mats, scooting up and pulling you with him. He kneaded your ass over your tight fitness leggings, pushing your hips back and forth on his hardening cock.

Your fingers ran through his hair, tugging at the strands while grinding your hips down on his crotch, feeling how hard he got for you. He had his strong hands on your hips, moving you how he needed you and it was exactly what you needed too.

Both of you were panting heavily as you pressed your heated center onto his big bulge, humping each other fast and faster.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum”, you said, almost in surprise. Henry only grunted in response and pushed your hips back and forth forcefully. Your moans got caught in your throat when your orgasm rushed over you and a warmth spread all over your body. Henry bucked his hips up when he came in his pants and you squealed when you got lifted in the air for a moment.

 “Wow, I haven’t dry-humped someone since high school”, you said when you were lying next to him, trying to catch your breath again.

“Well, it wasn’t that dry”, he said and looked down at his crotch. A wet stain had formed and you couldn’t tell if it was from him, from you or an accumulation of both.

“Sorry”, you said and shifted your hips, feeling your soaked panties between your legs. “I need to take a cold shower”, you said and got off the mats. “I need one too”, he said as he got up and your eyes met. “I meant alone”, you clarified. He playfully pouted at your words.

You leaned over and gave him a quick kiss, before you basically ran out of the equipment room, collecting your training bag on the way.

When you finally got to bed after your shower, it was almost 1 AM.

Here is Part 3 - Midnight stroll

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: Love, Maybe? {38}*

Chris Evans X Reader OFC Vixen Giovanni

Warning: Cursing, Plot, Heavy Angst, Mild NSFW

Word Count: 4.1K

Summary: After a night of drunkenness you wake up next to warm, hot as hell body, a migraine and no memory of the night before. When you come to realize that the hot body belongs to none other than Hollywood’s golden boy Chris Evans you freak out. As events unfold you become even more panicked to find out you got married in your drunken haze. What else is there to do but get it annulled, right? Before walking away, you share one more night of molten kisses and passion. Three years later you are still living with the repercussions of your brash decisions, but the surprises don’t stop there. The past has a way of coming back and have you questioning is this fate that you’ve been running from, hell could it have been love, maybe?

NOTE: **Italic texts is an inner Vixen thought. Bold Italic texts is an inner Chris thought. 

**Loosley Edited/Proofread**

**Slightly Interactive***

Thank you guys for reading!!!! If you enjoyed this please LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG. 😊❤❤️

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 38: Reality Check

-Chris-

 “No, don’t do that sweetheart, you’ll fall in.”

 From what he knew about her already he knew she wasn’t going to listen. Sure enough, she leaned forward over the wooden path trying to reach something in the water and sure enough, she tumbled headfirst into the water. He couldn’t help but laugh as he ran to her.

 “Really Christopher, you laugh at your daughter?”

 “I told her not to do it.” She popped her head up laughing up a storm. “See, she finds it funny.” When he looked at you, you were shaking your head.

 “Not funny, she could have drowned.”

 “Oh stop it, she can swim.” He plopped her onto the blanket on the shore and sat.

 “I otay mama.” She grabbed two strawberries and munched them as he wrapped her in a towel.

The three of you sat and ate the picnic lunch you’d so expertly made and enjoyed the sunshine and the beauty of the day. When he’d brought up showing Ella the lake you reassured him it was a great idea. The way she loved water it would have been a waste not to show her. She loved it. She splashed and was even able to swim around thanks to the calm waters. They’d played together, and she climbed all over him having him pretend to be a tree then a giraffe and finally a water horse. It was great being with her.

 With each passing day, she gave him more and more confidence with his parenting and let him get closer and closer. Now she didn’t just run to you for comfort or when she was feeling shy, she ran to him and asked for him. It overjoyed him. He hoped she could tell how much he wanted her, how much it meant to be her dad.

 After she ate, she whined for the whole thirty minutes she had to wait to get back in the water. Once the time was up she ran away heeding your warnings to not go too far. He watched you lean back onto your elbows then look to him.

 “What?” He shook his head and continued eating his apple.

 “Uh no, that was a clear something look. What is it?”

 “It’s nothing. You just—I like what you’re wearing.” He really liked it. The two-piece wasn’t skimpy but it wasn’t modest either.

 “You like what I’m wearing?”

 “Yeah, orange is a good color on you.” He wasn’t lying, it was true. It complimented your skin and made you even more gorgeous.

 You snorted and smiled. “Thanks.”

 “No, thank you.” He looked to Ella in the water and he could feel your eyes roam his body. He decided to give your moment to gawk. When he looked to you, you were laid back with the sun beaming down on you. The sun loved you.

 “Come pway mama, da-da.”

 “Coming baby.” You stood and walked toward the shore where she sat but he didn’t move.

 “You’re not coming?” You looked back at him. He was enjoying the view too much to get up.

 “No, I am, just—enjoying the view.” Your jaw dropped as you looked at him making him smile.

 “Watch it.”

 His laughter was loud. Tossing the apple to the side, he ran to you and wrapped his arm around your waist and carried you the rest of the way to Ella.

 The three of you played in the water and laughed and screamed to your heart’s content. He used his muscle to manhandle you and Ella and she loved every second of it.  Every time he tossed Ella into the air he could literally see your heart leap into your throat. It was hilarious. You had to know he would always catch her.

 When Ella got tired of playing with the two of you she went off to the shore and played in the mud and collected rocks. She could easily entertain herself. It left the two of you slightly alone a few times. He knew you didn’t want to give Ella any confusing visuals so for the majority of the time your interactions were flirtatious but never overtly inappropriate. He tested boundaries by slyly touching you here or there but always remained respectful. After a little while, it was like a game of who could touch the other without being obvious. He was wining, you were still a giant ball of mystery with how you held yourself reserved all the time. It drove him insane. He wanted to know how you felt.

~~~~~~~~~~~

 -Vixen-

 You opened your eyes to see both Chris and Ella peacefully sleeping. A little after midday the three of you took a nap in the boathouse. You were the first to wake evidently. Chris was laying on his back with one arm across his forehead and of course, that was the position Ella was in. you smiled at yet another similarity. He couldn’t deny her if he wanted to. It was clear he didn’t want to. Rather than running from any responsibility, he was steadily piling more and more on. He wanted her. if he was to be believed he wanted you too.

 Sighing, you stood and carefully walked out and onto the wooden planks and gazed out over the water and the orange glow of the sun on the water. This place was beautiful, and you were going to miss it when you went back to LA, and then San Francisco. You sat and dipped your feet into the water and for the first time thought about going back to reality. It was easy to mistake LA for your reality, but it wasn’t, San Francisco was. How was this little family thing going to work then?

 When you felt him behind you, you didn’t jump or feel any alarm, your body was used to his presence. You took a deep breath when you felt his lips press to your neck then your shoulder and you couldn’t suppress the moan that escaped.

 “Do you know that you two sleep just alike?”

 “We do?” You nodded and again he kissed your neck.

 “It’s cute. You have an actual mini you. She looks, laughs, sleeps and eats like you. Her sweet tooth is uncontrollable another thing you share, and God her eyes. Kristella was the right name for her.”

 “It’s surreal,” he responded then kissed your shoulder. “Today was great, right?”

 “It was. She loved it. Good call.” He began tracing lazy patterns in your skin and you settled back into him and enjoyed the perfectness of the day.

 The silence between you stretched as did the comfort.

 “I’m so happy and grateful to get a second chance not only to be Ella’s father but with you. Thank you.”

 Looking over your shoulder you met his eyes and searched them trying to find any hint of a lie, any hint that he was lying but once your eyes met you knew he wasn’t. Your heart fluttered yet again forcing you to take a deep breath.

 “Why couldn’t you have been this way three years ago?” Chris shook his head and a look of remorse washed across his face.

 “I was stupid, a dick who couldn’t see what was right in front of me.”

 “Which was?”

“The woman of my dreams. Everything I didn’t know then I wanted, everything I wasn’t ready to see. I’m ready now Vixen. I know it might be too little too late, and reap what you sow, and I agree. Honestly, I deserved to lose you back then. As much as it hurts to accept; you were right. I wasn’t ready, not for this or—you. I would have screwed it up, I would have hurt her.”

 His candor shook you. it shook you so much that you had to look away or else you’d say something you couldn’t take back. His hand on your chin stops you forcing you to not only keep contact with his eyes but to also full on face him. When you were fully turned sitting on his lap with his arms securely wrapped around you holding you against him you knew what was going to happen before it did.

 “I’m sorry for hurting you. I regret it on my long list of regrets. I’m ready to be her father, I’m ready to be in her life, ready to step up in any and every way you want. After seeing your world in San Francisco, I know you don’t need me, you don’t need my money, my influence, my connections or lifestyle. I know you can honestly take me or leave me, but I am ready for you and everything I opted out of three years ago, everything I felt and saw but ran from. I want to be in your life.”

 He took a breath and searched your face before he continued.

 “You’re so hard to read all the time it really gives me anxiety. I have no idea what you want, how you feel, if you feel anything. Tell me, please.”

 You crash your lips to his and kiss him with every emotion you felt. You didn’t want to talk, not with your mouth as least. There had to be a way to answer him, to show him. as you kissed him he kissed you back. You kept your moan low while your hands traveled down to his swim trunks. You unlaced them and freed his straining cock. When your eyes met he saw your intention, he knew what came next and he didn’t protest, he just pulled you down onto his need and laid back onto the wooden planks. Hopefully this was enough for him, hopefully he could hear what your mouth didn’t say.

  -Chris-

As he looked out over his backyard he smiled at his family and yours. This was a long way from the first time they got together. Now everyone was laughing, talking and genuinely looked to be enjoying themselves. As he flipped the meat on the grill he smiled and finished his beer. He found you in the crowd laughing with his sisters at the same moment you looked over to him. your smile turned bashful before you bit your bottom lip. That bottom lip drove him crazy and would probably be the death of him. You looked away and went back to your conversation.

 “How’s everything over here, son?” your father approached him and looked at the meats on the grill.

 “Good, sir. Another few minutes and they’ll be ready to come off.”

 “All right sounds good. How are you doing?”

 “Good. Are you doing okay sir?”

 “I’m good, just wondering when you’re going to tell my daughter you’re hopelessly in love with her.”

 He nearly choked on his beer. What’d you say to that?

 “Uh, well sir,” he cautiously began.

 “You can call me Carmine, we’re family.”

 He smiled and nodded. “I appreciate that Si—Carmine.”

 “So talk to me. Why haven’t you told her yet?”

 “It’s complicated.”

 “Why? Yes I know she can be intimidating and appear cold and closed off but I assure you, it’s an act.”

 He smiled because hearing that made him feel a lot better for some reason. It meant that you weren’t that way with just him. if your family saw it too you were this way with them too.

 “How uh, how exactly do I work around that?”

 “Simple. Trust. Show her she can trust you. if you get that squared away then the rest comes easy,” Carmine assured.

 “I think I already fractured that trust.”

 “What’re you doing about it?”

 “Trying to rebuild it. I have no idea it’s even working. She’s still so distant,” he confided.

 “I’m sure it’s working. The thing with Vixen is she has the best poker face, but with every poker face, there is a tell.”

 “What are her tells?”

 “Her actions. If her words say one thing or nothing but her actions are clearly speaking then I’d follow her actions. Like with her giving you more and more freedom with Ellie Bellie shows she trusts you with her. you found a way to lower her fierce mama bear exterior and let you in for her. I wouldn’t worry too much about it. what is meant to be will be.” Carmine leaned back and groaned as if he had not one care in the world.

 “Just remember, I don’t own any guns, but I know how to kill a man with my bare hands in twenty-nine different ways if you ever hurt her.”

 “Got it, sir.”

 Carmine nodded and walked away leaving him with his thoughts once again. He was so lost in them he didn’t hear you come up.

 “You wouldn’t last a minute in my kitchen gazing off to nowhere while precious meat was on the fire.” He smiled and looked you over.

 “Precious meat huh.” You snorted and shook your head.

 “You’re such a horny teenager.”

 “Enjoying yourself?”

 “I would be enjoying myself a ton better if you would hurry up and feed me.” Again he smiled and stepped closer to and went to your ear.

 “Follow me upstairs and I’ll feed you,” he whispered. You smiled.

 “You got yourself a date—later. Until then hurry up, we’re hungry.” You walked off to join everyone else.

 Fifteen minutes later he brought the meat over to the table and everyone helped themselves. You made Ella a plate and he made you a plate. Conversation never died down and the laughs kept coming, it was great that everyone got along, it was what he wanted when he brought you here. He wanted his family to love you as much as he did.

 The vibrating in his pocket had him groaning. He’d tried to ignore it for the last hour, but it kept buzzing and buzzing. He ignored it again and looked up to see you looking down at your phone with a confused expression.

-Vixen-

As you stared at the message from Kassius confusion filled you.

 Kassius MSG: Is it true?

MSG: Is what true?

 You drifted off to the side as you waited for Kassius’ reply. When his message came in it was a link. You clicked it and immediately the cover of a tabloid magazine popped up and it was you and Chris on the cover. You were sitting together in a restaurant laughing together, it was the bakery from San Francisco. The headline read “Chris Evans Bombshell, Secret Life Exposed.” Your jaw dropped and you looked up to see Chris digging his phone out his pocket with his eyes on you before he looked down to his own screen.

 When you looked back to your phone you scrolled through the article. They’d uncovered your identity and even had pictures from Vegas three years ago. There were pictures of the two of you at the altar, pictures of your marriage certificate, pictures of a still from your wedding video with both of you showing off your rings. When you saw pictures Ella you freaked out.

They had it all. As you continued to skim the long article they broke the news that he’d been married for the last three years and that it was a secret. The more you read the more your confusion and alarm rose. They’d dug up where Ella was born, tried to speak to nurses and the hospital. This was invasive as fuck and you weren’t down with it.

 You looked up and saw a freaked out look on Chris’ face. you saw him take a step to you, but you got another message. You were so confused as to why the article was speaking in present terms. They didn’t mention the divorce papers at all.

 MSG Kassius: Channel sixty-one, right now.

 You walked toward the TV that was mounted in the corner and that was when the staggered beat of TMZ came on. They were running the same exclusive.

 “Again, exclusive breaking news. Chris Evans, Captain America, the man everyone loves is off the market ladies. You heard it right. These pictures that were taken a few days ago show him on an apparent date with a beautiful mystery woman. The two appear to be having a great time, but she’s not a mystery, Chris knows her well. She’s his wife. You heard right, Chris Evans is married and has been for the last three years.”

 “What!” It was Lisa who shot to her feet first. All eyes went to Chris then to you and back to Chris.

 “We’ve uncovered the wedding pictures, the marriage certificate, and the lady’s identity. She is Vixen Giovanni, she’s a local San Franciscan who owns a successful restaurant there and is in the works of opening the anticipated Giovanni’s here in LA. The two also share a daughter, you got it a love child who is around two years old. The timing lines up with their wild Vegas wedding.”

 The only thing you heard was the blood pounding in your ears but you saw the chaos unfold around you. the parents were on their feet and the siblings were looking around and between you and Chris waiting for an explanation. You saw their lips moving and knew they were speaking but you didn’t hear any of them. You looked back to the TV and just zeroed in on the images of Ella they were plastering all over the screen and pictures of your restaurant and you through the years. It was a major invasion of privacy. Suddenly the narrative changed and the images on the screen were of the two of you in the dancehall in San Fran. 

Images of you dancing together and laughing with your faces close together than kissing were everywhere. Through all of that, there was no mention of your divorce. You looked to Chris who looked stressed as fuck. When your eyes met you saw something in his eyes that didn’t sit well with you.

 “Chris! What the hell are they talking about? It’s all lies right?”

 When neither of you made an effort to explain they became more livid.

 “Okay look wait, everyone calm down,” Chris began. Nexus took up Ella and rocked her hoping to keep her calm.

 “Calm? Christopher Robert Evans, if you don’t explain!”

 “It’s true.”

 That was all he got out before all hell broke loose. His mother gaped at him and your mother’s jaw dropped.

 “Vixen!

 “Chris, I wasn’t there. We weren’t there, none of us were there to see it. how could you do this!?” Lisa looked hurt but furious.

 “Chris--,” she began before she stopped.

 “Maw I know, I know. I’m sorry. It was a spur of the moment thing, we were both drunk and just did it. we didn’t think about it or anything. It wasn’t a conscious decision either of us made,” he explained.

 “So you married my daughter on a whim when you weren’t in your right might? She wasn’t worth a sound decision?

 “Dad--,” you began attempting to smooth things out but he held his hand up to you stopping you.

 “No sir, it’s nothing like that. You know what I think about your daughter. This was three years ago, we both were—look we know there’s no excuse for it and we’re sorry.” He looked to you no doubt pleading with you for help, but again you saw something in his eyes.

 “Nothing to say Vixen? You got married without me there, without your mother. How could you do this?”

 “Mom, everyone. Let’s take a breath. Yes, we did this and I understand how you feel. You have every right to be angry. What we did was stupid and irresponsible, we both know that, right Chris.”

 He nodded.

 “We should have told you guys the same time we told you about Ella. For me I knew you guys would be mad, I knew neither of you would understand and I really didn’t want to disappoint either of you because I got drunk and did something reckless. Back then you guys know I did reckless things for fun and I knew you both wouldn’t like it.”

 “Same here, I should have told you. I’m sorry.”

 “Wow, you married a complete stranger, then had unprotected sex with them and produced a child. My god Chris,” Lisa said as she paced the floor.

 “The thing that they aren’t revealing, and I don’t understand why. We’re not married anymore. A few days after we got married we filed for divorce. We both signed the papers and handled this,” you explained.

 The silence around you was the calm before the storm.

 “What!” There were several voices that screamed it. It looked like that nugget made them even angrier.

 “What do you mean?”

 “I went to LA shortly after and we filed with Chris’ lawyer. It was taken care of.”

 “So first you irresponsibly get married, irresponsibly have sex, then get a quickie divorce and decide to lie about it for three years?”

 They way they said it made it sound like the two of you were children and made questionable decisions. Across the way Chris rubbed his forehead.

 “Vixen, I don’t know how you could do this. You were married and you threw it away. You had a husband and now it’s all wasted.”

 You were confused. She was pissed you got married and now pissed you were divorced. You couldn’t win with her.

 “Actually,” Chris began. All eyes fell to him, but he avoided your eyes as he looked to be thinking about something. When his eyes met yours, you had a bad feeling.

 “The reason why they didn’t break the full story is because that is the full story.”

 “What?” Chris slowly walked to you, but you stepped back cautiously.

 “You’re right, we signed the papers and I thought they had been filed, all this time I thought it went through but Sherman called me a few weeks ago and told me that because of some things he was going through he didn’t end up filing the papers. He went to rehab and then left LA for a while. They sat in his desk all this time. I didn’t know Vixen.”

 As he spoke he kept trying to get closer, but you didn’t allow him to. A plethora of emotions filled you, shock, confusion, disbelief, hurt, anger, disappointment and a slew of other things. The one that was prevalent was hurt. He’d lied to you and kept something super important from you. something that you had every right to know. The last few weeks flashed through your head, every moment with him, every kiss, every time you slept together. It all felt manipulative now.  You began to wonder if he had an agenda this whole time.

 You didn’t know what to say, so you didn’t say anything. You walked away inside and upstairs. There you found Nexus and Ella in your room watching TV and laughing together. The minute you walked in Nexus went on alert.

 “Is everything okay?”

You pasted a smile on your face and nodded. “Perfect.”

 You walked to the closet and pulled out your bags and began packing them. You didn’t bother folding anything, you just threw things in not caring if they wrinkled or got ruined. you went through the room like a hurricane and just dropped everything in your bags. After twenty minutes you were done then you walked into Ella’s room and tried to keep your tears in. you packed her things and pressed the button you had that made you able to push things to the side.

 When you finished you walked back into your room and scooped Ella up. “Nex, when you are leaving can you bring the rest of her things?

 “What happened? What’s going on?”

 “I have to go, please don’t make this a thing.” She nodded understanding you were trying to keep this as calm as possible. You walked out and down the stairs and out the front door.

 “Wayo we go, mama?”

 “On a trip princess.”

 “Da-da come?”

 “Nope, it’s just you and me, like it’s always been.”

 You put the bags in the car and when you shut the trunk there was Chris coming toward you.

 “Vixen wait, don’t go. Please. Please let me explain.” You ignored him and walked around the car the opposite way then opened the door and put Ella in the car seat. Throughout the whole action he continued to plead.

 “You can’t just leave. What about the last few days, the weeks we’ve worked to get here. Don’t I deserve a chance to explain?”

 Sliding into the passenger side you tried to shut the door but he held on to it.

 “Vixen, don’t do this, I’m sorry.” You pulled it free and slammed the door then took a breath and drove off.

 You had no idea where to go but you knew you couldn’t spend another minute there with him. 

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

***If you want to be tagged please SEND AN ASK SO IT WILL BE EASIER FOR ME TO KEEP TRACK OF. Thank you for reading!!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

TagList:

@airis-paris14 @thiccdaddy-mbaku @wakandas-vibranium @wakanda-inspired @theunsweetenedtruth @ashanti-notthesinger @reignsxjackson @halfrican-heat @ambthegamer @simplyyamberr  @muse-of-mbaku @sisterwifeudaku @mejustme06  @ilcb7 @leahnicole1219  @destinio1 @maliadestiny @drsunshine97 @blowmymbackout @purplehairgawdess @thehuntoyobun @wakandamama @wakandawinning @profilia @zxddy-panther @h-challa @babygirlofwakanda @misswakanda2018 @ororowrites@hutchj @myfavemarvelfanfics @lavitabella87 @afraiddreamingandloving @autumn242 @purple-apricots @skysynclair19 @hersheyskissesss-blog @blue-ishx @90sinspiredgirl @tchallaswife @tchallamakesmeh0lla @turn-thy-paige @blackchickfics @blackpantherismyish @inlovewithmakeupcomicsanimelove @naturally-bri @flawlesslybeautiful14 @qweentbh@lunaerly @theoutereffect@twilight-sapphire-lover @pupyluv247 @stark-red19 @cockyboysandsugarism@maverickabull @madbadsiren @aykanna @myaw731 @ruruly20 @mixedmelanin @brittyevans @bezzywazhere@laketaj24  @soulsparker @theresnomoregoodones @syreanne@loveandcigarillos @heyauntieeee @heybriheyyy @wakanda-bcth @uhlxis  @maliadestiny @dadinhas-heat @yaachtynoboat711 @geeksareunique @bultalongthewayside @ajspencer1892 @captiansaveasmut @imaginewhoever @terrablaze514 @starsshines-blog @scrumptiouslytenaciouscrusade @darkandlovely94 @sithlordslut @wavyyc @naturalistamisslyn @nigarachi15 @madamslayyy @blackandfair @kreolemami @mylastnameisthe-fish @kaykay0829@chaneajoyyy @tequilajay27 @blacklotus-of-the-black-kingdom @slimmiyagi @im5ftbutmythroat66 @jaeee-http@madhatterhelsing @sunflowerpsalms @wakanda-shit-is-that @deliciousstreetkidcroissant @jecourt @vebner37 @disneysdarlingdiva @melaninmarvel @alanastormborn@dolphinpink310 @yourwonderbelle  @ohleucothea @queentearra @bitchbetterhavemydinner @fentybabyy @kaykay4454fan @priya212 @kitkit1690 @chrismarcs @beautycomesindifferentformsworld @blackpantherimagines @ovohanna24 @sweetpeachjones @kslo000 @nubian-queen18 @omgsuperstarg  @airis-paris14 @sisterwifeudaku   @mejustme06 @ilcb7 @leahnicole1219 @destinio1 @drsunshine97  @blue-ishx @inlovewithmakeupcomicsanimelove @prettyprincessushio @treeondrea  @ursapharoh05  @blackpinup22 @kaytauru @big3gocandykahn @kissingpineapples @wildaboutchrisevans   @fitfineandstayingalive @misspooh @michele-onel @gorjiss @blacklotus-of-the-black-kingdom @muva-milaje @limbo-limbo-limbo @awkwardlyabstract @blxck-brxndie  @meeky-imagines @inlovewith3 @metalarmlover @mellowjellow6 @scrumptiouslytenaciouscrusade @thatrandomhetaliachick @missdeerstalker15 @ursapharoh05 @treeondrea @ovohanna24 @marvelheaux @romanceoftheeveryday @mufasathatniggatho @cltex84 @sweetbearcolorgarden @msincognito67 @mosagram @lunaerly @mar-ta-3 @ljstraightnochaser @lewatigress @akimi-youngblood @bekahdean87 @jasmindaughteroftheworld @cocooned-butterfly @emoniclark22 @chereedrop619 @theblulife @niggarachi15 @drsunshine97 @msincognito67 @missdeerstalker15 @wakandamama  @avenger-marvel-fan @arieljamiyla @vibranium-soul @monae-boss @queenxchallaxkillamonger@amirra88 @jaeee-http @omg-itsnadi @fonville-designs @sydneebleu @cherrystainedlipsbaby @behindthesehazeleyes27 @areubeingserved  @kelbabyblue @academic-glowup  @patzammit @yourwonderbelle @pennywisesmistress @squeackygee @noramushrooms @titty-teetee @ab-baybay @kreolemami @impossiblegiantrebelbasketball @dangerouslovefanfic @heladoom @renesmeeharelds @zaddysqueen7 @alyxkbrl @hello-therree @taylorveebee @a-dizzle777 @deidrashouseofpain @coldmuffinbanditshoe  @evemej  @chaselovinggert @ben-wyxtt @designerwriterchic @chrisgalore @jennmurawski13 @rynabarnesrogers @yunggyeezyy @kemkem101 @dearkyrainez @minton131@momobaby227 @jesseswartzwelder @briellableu @browneyes9125 @mjey12  

[starkerforlife6969]

Starker- Anger

very loosely based on Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington from Stranger things. 

TW: Please be careful! Explicit abuse, parental abuse (tony’s dad, Peter’s step dad), violence, Tony punches Peter in the face once, both peter and tony are being abused by their parents, unhealthy coping mechanisms, brief mentions of homophobic slurs, somehow a happy ending, high school au, just- be careful, my lovelies! 

Tony’s known pretty boys like Peter Parker his whole life.

They aren’t worth the paper they’re printed on, and they are printed on paper: stick thin and flimsy. Two dimensional, boring, shallow, materialistic. They’re a dime a dozen back in Phoenix, and frankly, Tony wasn’t impressed with them there, so here, in this dreary little town where school spirit and pep leaks outside of the school’s hallways and into the streets, where popularity matters deep in the suburbs the same way it does in the classroom, Tony really isn’t impressed.

Pretty boys like Peter Parker are pretty, and that’s all they’re good for. A bit of eye-candy.

The bubbly-blonde, cotton-candy cheerleader who’s been assigned to showing him around the school, does so with an enthusiasm that’s borderline revolting. “There are loads of school clubs, you should totally join, like, all of them! Peter’s on the committee, and he’s so open to new ideas, if you think of a club just run it by him! He’d be so happy to! He also hosts these, like, killer parties! And it’s always open invitation, Peter’s house is totally lush, he has this huge pool and his parents are like, never home-“

Jesus Christ, it’s all so inane. Tony reaches for his cigarettes and the girl stutters to a halt as she watches him light it up right there in the hall. Her eyes are wide with awe- rimmed with arousal and wrongness. Tony resists the urge to smirk. It’s all so easy. Cookie-cutter town like this, where the most popular guy in school is on fuckin’ committees for school clubs, he’s not surprised that dark, slicked back hair, black-rimmed eyes and a cigarette will be enough to rework the social structure.

In fact, he’s sort of banking on it.

“Y-you’re not allowed to smoke in here,” she breathes in amazement, and Tony chuckles, fumes curling around his jaw.

“Yeah, sweetheart?” He says around his cigarette, giving her a wink. “You gonna tell on me?”

She shakes her head, hair swishing with her promise, and when the tour ends- she races off, no doubt, to tell the food chain of the cafeteria what she’s witnessed.

* *

Maria cries that night, when Howard kicks Tony’s face so hard he can feel his eye bulge a little.

Tony wants to tell her not to cry. He wants to gather her into his arms and spit blood and say I told you he wouldn’t change just because we’ve moved states. He can’t change, mom. He won’t change.

He loves her for loving him. He hates her for not saving him.

He swallows down putrid blood and sleeps in his car.

When he wakes up, there’s fresh bandages tucked into his glove compartment, a packed lunch, a blanket draped over his shoulders and a post-it note that says (in handwriting that trembles) that maybe he shouldn’t come inside for breakfast. I love you, sweetheart. I’m sorry. Mom xx

* *

The rumour mill has been churning, and when he walks into school with his shiner, it just spins even faster.

People gape, a few, braver ones, flutter over, hovering, but not quite speaking.

Tony feels pretty damn good. It’s nice to feel handsome. Powerful. Nice to know that somewhere, he can exude a little control.

But to be King, there has to be a de-throning.

“You,” he drawls, slamming a locker shut and narrowly missing a freshman’s fingers. “Peter Parker, where is he?”

The freshmen swallows hard, shrinking into his neck. “Uh-uh- p-probably in the a-art rooms, T-Tony.”

Tony grins, and pats him on the cheek. The boy already knows his name. Everyone must.

Without another word, he turns and heads for the art rooms.

When he gets there, his breath catches in his throat.

Dappled in sunlight, twisting spirals of cedar hair, amber eyes and practically drenched in a golden aura, is Peter Parker.

He’s frowning at a canvas, and it makes Tony seethe.

Pretty boys like that are all the same. Oh, is his biggest fucking problem the fact he can’t decide what to paint? He certainly doesn’t have any money issues, not if the expensive shoes are anything to go by. The designer jeans, the pink sweater with the ruffled lace collar.

Tony hates him. Fucking envies him. The sight of him- so beautiful, so serene- so troubleless, he has everything. He has everything. No doubt two parents who adore him, a nice house, money, talent, beauty- a future. And everyone here adores him, fuckin’ thinks he hung the moon in the sky.

“You think you’re worth anything?” Howard sneers, jabbing Tony’s shoulders hard enough to bruise. “You ain’t worth a damn thing, sport. You’re worth shit.”

“Well,” Tony smiles, all mean and sharp at the edges, and feels a vicious sort of victory in the way Peter jumps.

Like he’s not used to be snuck up on. Like he’s not used to being scared. “Oh, you scared me,” the boy laughs, a blush on his cheeks, “you must be Tony-“

“You’re as pretty as they said you were.” Tony continues, because he doesn’t want to hear Peter’s sweet voice. Doesn’t want to hear another word out of his mouth. “Prettier, even. They don’t do you justice.” He trails his fingers across still-wet canvases drying on easels, smudging and ruining the paintings.

“Hey, I think- you’re not supposed to touch those,” Peter points out worriedly, pearly teeth nibbling at his bottom lip. “You might accidentally-“

Tony moves so quickly it must look like he’s teleported. He backhands Peter so fucking hard, it’s so fucking satisfying, and the boy topples to the ground gracelessly.

There’s no movement for a long moment, before the boy lets out a strangled gasp, wrenches himself away.

Not far enough. Goddamn, he’s so weak. How can anyone be this weak? Tony knows to cover his head, to curl up in a ball, but Peter’s splayed out and defenceless.

Tony reaches down to grab him by the designer sweater, lifting him clear off the ground as Peter winces and recoils. The mark on his cheek is darkening rapidly, an ugly scarlet. “You run this school, Parker? You their precious king?”

“What? No! I…” there are tears sparkling in his eyes, he even cries like a Disney character. “I don’t- I don’t understand, please don’t-“

Begging never stops anything. Tony drops him and punches down in one swift motion, right onto Peter’s stomach- forcing all the air out of him, along with a pitiful whimper. “You ain’t king of shit, you get that, Parker?”

He doesn’t stick around for an answer, not that Peter could give one, with the way he’s wheezing, and he strides out; fingers streaked with paint and blood.

* * Peter doesn’t come into school the next day, and all eyes are stuck on Tony.

They’re not all as admiring anymore, but they are intimidated, and that’ll do. The girls still flock to him, the younger students still flee.

It’s easy to dethrone. History makes it look hard, but it isn’t.

“Liam’s throwing a party next week,” Cindy says over lunch. Tony’s sitting at the “popular” table. It looks like all the others, but the people there are substantially more attractive. He’s sitting where Peter usually sits, that much he can gather, and the students (his subjects) whisper with nervous fear. “You should totally come.”

“Maybe,” Tony murmurs, but he will go. Anywhere that isn’t home in the evenings. Anywhere else.

*** Tony feels good on Friday.

His dad is out of town on business, and he and his mom ate take out in front of the tv and didn’t have to worry when they spilt some on the rug.

He parks his beat up car in one of the teacher’s spots, and his entourage rush to greet him and update him on the gossip and prattle on about things he doesn’t give a shit about.

That is, until one of them says-

“Peter’s back in today.”

And that, Tony has to see.

He’s not technically in AP english, but he winks at the receptionist and she buckles like everyone does.

Peter sits at the front of the class, scribbling notes furiously, and looks entirely put together in a white chiffon blouse and green slacks. The bruise along his cheekbone is horrific. Darker and splotchier- there’s a tiny little cut above his left eyebrow- Tony doesn’t remember doing that, but that happens sometimes. He hits a little harder than he means to.

Seeing it is a weird feeling. It makes disgust well up inside him, something horrible and tortured screeches to be let out, and on the other hand-

He’s a king looking down on the enemy wounded.

Peter doesn’t look up at him once during the class, even though he goes out of his way to be annoying and aggravating.

The teacher kicks him out eventually, and when the bell rings, he waits by Peter’s locker.

The boy approaches cautiously. He’s alone. All alone. High school fans, so fickle, Tony tuts.

“Parker,” he grins, watching as Peter twists open the combination lock. “Finally decided to come back.”

“I guess so,” the boy says quietly, demurely, changing out his books. He has hard copies of everything, all brand new and shiny. They don’t look like the torn up, hand-down charity shop copies Tony uses.

Tony waits, but Peter offers nothing else. He feels too sharp around the edges, he feels like he’s shattering. “Well? Aren’t you gonna tell on me or some shit? I haven’t heard a word.”

“You want me to tell someone you attacked me?” Peter clarifies curiously, looking at him with huge, honey eyes. It’s like someone bottled sunlight. Tony’s winded by the sight of them.

“I-“

“What would that achieve?” Peter asks, blatant with honesty and genuine inquisitiveness. “It wouldn’t make you stop. It might get you suspended, maybe expelled, but then what? Not like you couldn’t come and find me outside of school. Then I call the police? Try to get you arrested for assault? You’d be released in a year anyway, and then what?”

Tony snarls, banging his fist against the lockers so loudly the entire hallway falls silent. He leans in and spits into Peter’s face: “How about some fuckin’ gratitude that I didn’t leave a mark, huh, pretty boy? Where’s my thanks?”

Peter doesn’t step away. He looks up and juts out his chin in a way that’s meant to be intimidating but is more endearing than anything. “Thank you.” He whispers. His lower lip shakes. “Thank you for what you did to me.”

“Don’t fuckin- stop cryin- get up! Get up!” Howard yells, hauling Tony to his feet. He stumbles, unable to stand, and Howard shoves him against the wall. “Fuckin’ ingrate, say thank you- thank me for taking the time to fuckin’ teach you!”

“Thank you,” Tony manages around a sob, sliding to the floor and bursting into tears.

Tony staggers back hard.

He’s not-

He’s not.

*** Pretty boy Peter is a bug under his skin.

Tony can’t stop thinking about him. Can’t stop wondering where he is, how he is.

Jefferson High is a huge school, but the fields and playgrounds are bigger, and that’s where students spend their time.

Tony finds Peter every lunch time, curled up in the big chairs in the library, buried in a book.

Sometimes he’s wearing oversized cream sweaters, sometimes when it’s hot, he’s in some fancy lace get up, and Tony eyes the smooth, soft skin on display. Sometimes he’s almost asleep, looks so peaceful and cosy (Tony wants to reach out and gently, gently touch) sometimes his eyes are moving so rapidly, his lips parted in exhilaration, fingers clumsy as they hurriedly turn the page that Tony would give anything to know what he was reading.

For Peter to tell him what interested him so much.

As it is, he doesn’t approach. Just watches from the shadows for as long as he can, before slipping out undetected.

He’s particularly good at that, thank years of practising.

The swarms that once worshipped the boy never hang out with Peter anymore, but oddly enough, Peter doesn’t seem to care, or even notice.

Tony can relate to that. Losing Cindy the air-head might actually be a relief. He’s tried to shake her off, but she latches like a leech.

Instead, Peter spends his time with a dreary-eyed girl. A girl Tony knows gets called dyke by the guys in the shower-room.

Tony doesn’t join in their bantering over jokes like that.

She’s cool, though, and clearly doesn’t give a shit. She’ll be something big when she’s out of here, and Tony wants to her see her succeed. Wants to flip on his television set one day in a few years and see her face.

When he gets home that night, he has the book Peter was reading at lunch tucked under his arm (the librarian too, is a sucker for his eyes).

Howard glares at him, kicks at him when he walks past like he’s a mangy mutt, but he makes it to bed and he flips on the switch, snuggled into threadbare sheets, and he reads.

*** Amidst the thrum of music, the boozy smell of alcohol, and lipstick on the back of playing cards, Peter Parker shows up to Liam’s party.

Tony’s halfway through a keg, but he’s not feeling the effects (so what? He’s built up a bit of a tolerance) and people are chanting King Tony! when he spots wavy brown hair and pretty pink lips.

He follows without even meaning to.

Peter’s face is healed now, back to as beautiful as ever. Tony heals fast too.

“Parker,” he greets, when Peter helps himself to punch. “You showin’ your face here?”

Peter smiles. “I was invited.”

That surprises him. “Really? Who’d wanna be seen with a nobody like you?”

“Liam and I go back.”

Well damn, not as fickle as he’d thought then. Anyway, the sight of Peter is thrilling. It’s troubling. “Get the fuck out,” Tony orders, because a rather large part of him wants to- wants to kiss-

“I was just leaving.” The boy corrects, turning away.

There’s a welt on his back.

It peaks out behind the strappy, vintage style blazer. But only just. It’s been cleverly covered up, if Tony wasn’t so familiar with the sight he’d never have spotted it and-

He reaches out, calls for Peter to stop- wait-

But he’s already gone.

*

It’s an obsession.

But it keeps him from the house. He drives around town slowly, cigarette hanging out the corner of his mouth, arm hanging out the window of his car, and he coasts through fancy neighbourhoods, sees wholesome families praying before eating their dinner in their grand dining rooms.

He hates them.

He spots Peter’s pretty red Camaro parked in the driveway of an enormous house.

He parks around the block, comes back, and lingers.

It’s totally normal. The curtains are shut, but Tony can see enough. They have neat hedgerows, cultivated fox gloves, and a bird feeder out front. There are three cars parked neatly, Peter’s, a blue beetle, and a large jeep, all lovingly taken care of and gleaming in the evening light.

The kitchen curtains have charming little frogs on them, the mat out front says welcome.

He can’t have seen a welt on Peter’s back, because that doesn’t fit.

It fits Tony. With his beaten down house, lack of kitchen curtains, lack of prayers, his scratched up, junkyard piece of crap, his bruised knuckles and his split lip.

He’s wrong.

*** His mom’s been saying that Howard’s getting worse.

Tony zones her out. She says stuff like this all the time. Other times she says he’s getting better, then he’s getting worse, but she never does a fuckin’ thing about it.

When he staggers out of the house at three am, bleeding bad, throbbing all over, and he falls into his car- can hear his mother screaming, can hear Howard demanding him to get back inside, he steps on the gas and tails it.

He’s driving to the hospital, hardly able to see through the blood and the pain and the black spots dancing across his vision, when he crashes into a street lamp.

It’s not a bad crash. Another dent in many, he thinks, but he suddenly feels warm all over.

He’s cosy. He could fall asleep.

*** When he wakes up, he’s on a cloud. He’s floating on air.

He blinks and there’s a warm, gold light, and two, beautiful honey eyes.

He’s in heaven.

But that can’t be right, he’s a piece of shit.

“You got that right,” comes a chiding, slightly teasing tone, and he squints against the dimness to see Peter Parker above him, dabbing at him with white cotton buds.

Feeling seems to come back all at once. First, an ache that drags through his whole body, then the blinding sting of whatever hell fire Peter’s putting on his face, third, that Peter’s straddling hm, and it’s a really rather nice hot, weight.

“Mm, baby,” he groans, sliding his coarse hands up Peter’s bare, smooth thighs, “this is a pleasant surprise.” He bucks his hip a little, feels his clothed dick nestle between two plump cheeks. He gets a little burst of pleasure that’s such a fucking relief from the pain that he grinds upwards again.

Peter’s hand is firm on his chest, pressing him down into the bed, not cloud. “You’re hurt, Tony. One problem at a time please.”

Problems. Damn. He has a lot of those.

“Tell me about it,” Peter sighs. “I’ve parked your car at the drive-thru theatre. I left a note at the lamppost. I hope no one minds.”

Tony blinks, dazed, and watches as Peter tends to him. It reminds him of that film his mom used to watch all the time, the fuckin horrible one with the dancing and the singing and the monster.

Beauty and the Beast, his mind supplies.

Peter’s face isn’t pretty. It’s beautiful. Dimples and prominent cheekbones, lovely eyebrows and long lashes. He has freckles and a beauty mark on his jaw, perfect for kissing. His forehead is creased in concentration as he works on Tony’s face, his tongue resting on his lips.

Tony may not be in heaven, but he is looking at an angel.

“Do you really…” he whispers, reaching up a clumsy hand to stroke tenderly at Peter’s face. The boy doesn’t even flinch. “Did you really have a…a belt mark on you…”

Those eyes snap to him, a vulnerability come to light, a hidden truth revealed.

Then they darken, and look away. “You need to get your rest.”

“It doesn’t make sense,” Tony croaks, eyes burning, “you’re perfect. It’s not meant to- not meant to happen to perfect people, only- only broken ones, like-“

“Nobody’s perfect,” Peter whispers wisely, dabbing cream onto his fingers, and then onto Tony’s face.

“Who does it to you?”

“Step dad,” Peter shrugs, “he never hits her, though. I think he misses his own son.”

“I’ll kill him for hurtin’ you, I swear,” he slurs, filled with righteous ire. Who could hurt such an angel-

“That’d be hypocritical.” Peter muses, opening a pack of antiseptic wipes and swiping at Tony’s temple. He’s good at this. He must be well-practised.

Tony drowns in self-loathing. “I’m a shit.” He hisses, “I’m a shit, I’m sorry, but my dad-“

“I understand.” Peter nods, fingers stroking through Tony’s hair. “I empathise. I don’t forgive you. Not yet.”

“You might, though?” Tony urges, craning into every touch. “Maybe?”

Peter grinds down once, making Tony’s dick jolt with arousal. “Maybe.” He whispers.

*** Tony hates his anger management counsellor so fucking much.

But Howard hates him going, so Tony always shows up on time.

Peggy is patient and understanding, but no-nonsense.

When he shows up with bleeding knuckles and a jagged cut on his arm, she offers him a lemon sucker and shakes her head.

“He started it.” Tony hisses, taking a sherbet and sucking on it.

She doesn’t say anything.

“It wasn’t Peter, if that’s what you’re thinking. I would never hurt Pe- I haven’t ever hit Peter again.”

She’s silent.

He feels like a kid. He hangs his head on his chest. “I get so angry.” He whispers.

“And does violence make the anger go away?”

He nods, looking at her through tears. He cries so much nowadays. Peggy says it’s a good thing. “It turns it into power.”

Peggy looks at him, urging him to get there on his own.

“It’s not power,” he mumbles, lemon on his tongue, “I feel helpless.”

“We all do sometimes, Tony,” she smiles, and offers him another lemon drop. “I want to talk about your mom today. About the things you think she likes best about you.”

Tony wants to run and hide, but instead he sits and listens.

* Sometimes, when Peter reaches over to hold Tony’s hand, Tony yanks it away, his whole mood sours, and he storms out.

He always comes back though. Shame-faced, small, and he reaches out for a hug and Peter gives it to him.

He yells sometimes too. When he’s trying really hard not to, it slips out. Horrible things, things he doesn’t mean, things he wishes he could take back but he fears are going to hang there in the air forever.

He always cries afterwards, and calls Peggy.

Peter yells too, from time to time, when he’s fracturing a little, when Kurt presses where it hurts.

Tony holds Peter tight when that happens, kisses his hair all soft and gentle in the ways he never thought he could be, and promises that they’ll both do better. They’ll both be better.

Peter sees Stephen Strange, a counsellor on the other side of town.

Peggy thinks it’s a good idea for Peter and Tony to heal independently of each other, just in case they become a support system for one being, rather than two people.

Strange says you shouldn’t feel guilty for lashing out. Peggy says you should apologise if you’re sorry.

Peter kisses the hollow of Tony’s throat and says: “I want to tell you all the things I love about you.”

By the end of the forty-minute list, Tony has to cut Peter off, because he can’t hear him over his own sobs.

After a month of no violence, Tony’s greeted to Peter covered in flour and icing, holding a poorly shaped cake that says one month of peace is groovy baby.

They eat it in an old tent, camped out on the edge of town. The cake is disgusting, and Tony’s new favourite. 

They have sex in the grass and Tony kisses Peter’s new welt, and says that he deserves so much more than this.

That, if he likes, Tony will try to give it to him.

**

They have a modest house in a modest town. They have curtains with kangaroos on them, and no dining table- just a coffee table with bean bags in front of the television.

They have one nice car that they share.

They have friends.

They meet each other in the drive way, both on their way home from work, and Peter blushes when Tony holds out the bouquet of tulips. “Pretty boy,” Tony grins, as Peter buries his face in the petals. “I heard from a little birdie that it was your wedding anniversary.”

“Mm,” Peter giggles, “that’s weird. Me and my husband promised each other no presents.”

“Ah,” Tony sighs, drawing Peter into his arms, kissing him silly for the whole neighbourhood to see (not that they haven’t seen it before. It’s stupid and reckless but it’s a good town). “So, if we go inside, there’ll be no freshly baked cake on the counter, right? You didn’t sneak home on your lunch break to bake me something?”

Peter sighs. “Who told?”

“Becky. She can’t keep a secret, Pete.”

Peter laughs, and they thread their fingers together and head inside.

It’s not a perfect ending, but it’s happy. They fight, sometimes. They tremble. They remember things they wish they could forget. They break down on the side of the road. They spend nights in motels.

But those are fewer and farther between. And in the end, they always come home- to each other.

The cake is terrible. It always is. But Tony eats every single bite.

It’s the same recipe as the one Peter made all those years ago, after one month of no fights.

It’s stale and it brings back so many memories.

“Is it good?” Peter asks worriedly, putting the tulips in water.

Tony takes a huge bite, and shakes his head in wonder. “Yeah, baby,” he whispers, “even after all this time, it’s still really, really good.”

He thinks it always will be.