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roosterforme · 10 months ago

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Always Ever Only You Part 27 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley just needs your full attention long enough for you to tell him what's bothering you, and for you to pick out a new car. He comes home from golfing completely unwilling to let you gloss things over, but the conversation veers off course once again when you share some big news.

Warnings: Swearing, smut, oral, pregnancy topics, angst, fluff

Length: 5400 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Always Ever Only You masterlist. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32

By the eighteenth hole, Bradley was restless. This was taking forever. He somehow forgot how meticulous Bob was when he teed off, adding probably a full hour to the golf outing. He bit his tongue and fought the urge to tell Bob to move things along so he could get back home to you. When he left hours ago, you were still sound asleep, and he was concerned that you weren't feeling well. He was also completely fed up with the way you were avoiding conversation.

He played through the last hole as quickly as he could, and when Jake and Javy suggested grabbing lunch and a beer, he made his excuses and a quick exit. "Next time. And it'll be my treat. But I need to get home."

"Angel's got you so pussy whipped," Jake drawled as if he wasn't currently driving his car around complete with a car seat for Jeremiah.

"Do you ever hear me denying it or complaining about it?" Bradley replied as he set his clubs in the back of the Bronco. "I don't think she's feeling great, and I need her to pick out a new car. I'm getting fed up with her dragging her feet. So she's picking something out today."

Jake laughed as he opened his car door. "Yeah, go try to show her who's the boss, buddy. Good luck with that."

Bradley grunted and rolled his eyes. You and he were a team, and if he had to demand that you hear him out, then he'd get his way about it. He was absolutely unwilling to return to a place where the two of you weren't communicating well. But as he drove back home, he was starting to get more annoyed. He already asked you so many times to tell him what was bothering you and what was on your mind, and each time, you'd burst into tears. He didn't even know what the hell he was doing wrong.

"Fuck," he growled as he pulled into the empty driveway, honestly kind of missing your little shit mobile since it had made you happy. Today was his mom's birthday, and he wanted you to have a good day, but if he pissed you off, then he pissed you off. He was armed with his phone browser open to two options that would just have to be good enough. He left his clubs in the car as he strolled up the walkway to the porch in his white golf pants and floral print shirt. He would just have to get you to accept the fact that a new car needed to happen.

"Sweetheart?" he called out when he opened the door. You and Tramp both came running into the living room. "Hey, we need to talk about some of this shit. Right now."

"Okay, but-"

"Please," he said firmly, holding up one hand. "Just let me say what I need to say, alright?"

You were bouncing on the balls of your bare feet with your hands clasped in front of you. "Okay," you agreed, your voice breathy and light. All he wanted to do was collect you in his arms and smother you in kisses, but he couldn't get sidetracked right now.

Bradley closed the distance to you but planted his hands on his hips. "I love you so much, but something is not working right now. And I'm not going to let us fall apart again. Ever. I want to talk it through right now, and I need you to participate. Starting with your car."

You reached out and let one hand rest on his abs as your lips parted, but he shook his head.

"No, seriously, Baby Girl. I will do anything to make you happy, but could you please, please just pick out a car? I don't like leaving you home without one." He paused to lean in and kiss your forehead briefly. "I found a brand new, red Honda Civic with all of the same features as your old one. Same transmission, sunroof, everything. And it's on a lot in Chula Vista. We could go look at it right now."

"Bradley, I don't think that's a good idea," you told him, smiling up at him. He felt his resolve fracturing, but he kept going.

"Well, something has to give here! That's the best I can come up with. Unless... you want to go with the blue one I found online which is exactly the same as the one that I totaled. Same model year and everything, but it's in Maine. If you really want it, we can fly there and drive it back. I already talked to the owner about the price."

"Bradley, I don't want that one either."

He tipped his head back in frustration as your hand caressed him through his shirt. "For the love of god, Sweetheart, I am trying my best here. And you're giving me nothing. And it's not just the car," he snapped as he met your gaze again, eyes wide looking up at him. "You yelled at me for buying the wrong coffee when I thought they just changed the label, and you fell asleep while we were mid conversation. And I hurt you when we were having sex, but you wouldn't even talk about it afterwards. I need you to tell me if I'm not doing it for you, because I don't want to keep fucking this up!"

"You're not fucking anything up," you promised quietly. "You're not, Roo."

He examined your pretty, eager face and shrugged. "Then just tell me what's going on here."

You bit your lip and closed the remaining inches between your body and his, and then you smiled up at him so brilliantly, his breath caught in his lungs. As you carefully wrapped your arms around his waist, you said, "I'm pregnant."

He was frozen in time and space, barely able to process your words as his belly swooped and his heart raced. Pregnant. You were pregnant? He swallowed hard as he let his forehead rest against yours, trying to formulate words.

"Baby Girl, are you really? Pregnant?"

"Yes," you whispered, and Bradley had you in his arms, making you squeal as he lifted you up in the air.

"You're pregnant?" he asked again, beaming at you as you wrapped your legs and arms around him.

"I'm pregnant!"

"Holy shit!" he nearly screamed as you buried your face in his neck and laughed in delight. "Holy shit! You're pregnant!"

He didn't know what to do with himself as he held you tight against him, imagining a baby in your arms. His baby. And your baby. Something the two of you had been dreaming about for so long. The one thing he'd had to make himself understand he didn't need at the cost of a happy marriage, but that he'd still yearned for.

Your happy laughter and whispered words had his feet moving toward the bedroom. "You're going to be a dad, Roo."

He set you down on the bed, covering your body with his large one, careful not to hurt you as your sweet lips met his. "I love you so much," he murmured between kisses that left him breathless. "I fucking adore you, Sweetheart."

You whimpered as he slowly let his hand drift down your body before inching your shirt up and running his knuckles gently along your belly. He kissed you hard on the lips one last him before easing his body down lower, kissing your sternum on his way to your belly button. He thought about the future as he said, "And I adore you, too."

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You ran your fingers lazily through your husband's soft curls as his big hand rested on the middle of your belly next to his cheek. He was a little sweaty and still wearing his golf clothes, but everything was just perfect. The edge of his mustache tickled your sensitive skin as he whispered, "I love you."

Everything made sense now which made you feel more settled. Honestly, this was much better than the flu that you thought you had, and you giggled. "You'll be the best Daddy, Bradley."

He looked up your body before kissing you a dozen more times all over your abdomen. Calloused fingers stroked your skin as he looked at you with those big, brown eyes you were completely addicted to. "Fuck. I'm so excited. I don't even know what to do with myself," he told you as you sat up and climbed onto his lap. "You took a pregnancy test?"

"Yes. I had one tucked in the back of the bathroom closet that I bought a few months ago," you whispered, brushing his scarred cheek with your lips and the tip of your nose.

"Where's the test?" he asked, scooping you up in his arms again as you told him it was in the bathroom. "I want to see it." You'd managed to pick it up off the floor earlier before examining it for about five minutes with tears in your eyes before you left it on the vanity. And now Bradley set you down, but he kept one arm around you as he picked it up. "Two lines means you're pregnant?" he asked, looking at you in reverence.

You nodded and whispered, "Yes," and then his eyes filled with tears. "Oh, Roo."

"Sweetheart. You're pregnant," he said so softly. "We're going to have a baby."

"Yes," you confirmed as you wiped at his tears with your thumbs while he held onto the test. "I realized when I woke up that my period was late, and then I threw up. A lot. So I took the test."

He sucked in a deep, shaky breath before he kissed your forehead. "Do you remember what today is?"

You let your cheek come to rest on his chest as you said, "Of course I do. It's your mom's birthday. I already bought everything to make filet mignon and crab cakes for dinner. But I guess we ended up with a birthday present?"

With lips pressed to your hair, he muttered, "She would have loved this. She would have loved you almost as much as I do. And she would have been a good grandma."

And now you felt more tears stinging at your eyes. It had been nine months of trying for this moment, which wasn't extravagantly long in the grand scheme of things, but it had been stressful and hard on your marriage at times. Bradley was your teammate, and he'd worked as hard as you had to make sure the two of you made it back to a good place.

"Can we go to the store?" he asked suddenly. "Buy some more pregnancy tests so I can be here when you take one? And get some ginger ale if your stomach is still upset?"

"Yeah," you said with a laugh. "If you want."

"I want," he replied immediately, taking you by the hand and leading you toward the front door. His cheeks were flushed pink, and he was all smiles as he stopped on the driveway next to the Bronco and gasped. "The Bronco, Sweetheart."

"What about it?" you asked as he slowly backed you up until your butt hit the passenger side door. Bradley caged you in with a predatory glint in his eye before kissing your forehead softly. But you felt so calm as his hand slipped underneath your shirt, his thumb rubbing soft circles on your belly.

"A Bronco is the solution. It's so clear now. We'll swing by the Ford dealer after the drug store. And then we can drive home in two separate Broncos so you can take the tests. And then we can make my mom's birthday dinner."

Your lips parted, but no words came out, and Bradley dipped his head down to kiss you. He was smiling against your lips as his arms snaked around you. "Another Bronco?" you whispered. "You think?"

"Mmhmm," he hummed as his lips skimmed your cheek. "A lot more indestructible than your old thing. I'm not going to let our baby ride around in a little compact car death trap on wheels. Let's get a second Bronco."

"It wasn't that bad," you muttered, only slightly offended as you recalled the gigantic hole that he'd put in the bottom of your car with his foot. "Are you sure you don't just want to have access to drive two Broncos instead of one?"

Bradley leaned on one forearm against the door, still stroking your belly with his thumb and keeping you calm. "We need something big enough for a car seat to fit comfortably. If you don't want a Bronco, I think you should still consider another SUV. Preferably one I can actually fit in."

You looked up at his handsome and eager face, excitement bubbling under the surface of his expression. He was clearly as excited as you were about the positive test, and he just wanted you to be happy. Hell, he'd offered to drive a car back from Maine with you barely an hour ago. Before he even knew you were pregnant. You were still having a hard time wrapping your mind around it yourself.

Tears stung your eyes, and Bradley's smile faltered a little bit. "Listen," he whispered, kissing your forehead. "Anything you want to drive, okay? Anything you want. But I think we need to look at the safety ratings and all that shit if you really want a compact car again."

"I don't want a compact car again," you hiccupped. "I was trying to tell you that earlier. We can go look at Broncos. I'm just so emotional. I can't seem to control it. But at least I know where it's coming from now."

Bradley smiled as he pulled you away from the door before opening it, and then he buckled you in. "It's coming from the little Bradshaw bun in your oven, and I couldn't be happier."

-----------------------------

Even the brief walk around to the driver's side door felt like too much, because Bradley didn't want to stop touching you. As soon as he could, he slipped his hand in yours once again and smiled at you before backing out of the driveway. He'd been ready for this for a long time. He knew he'd always been a step ahead of you; his desire to date you exclusively startled you at first, but he knew pretty early on that you'd be wearing his mom's ring eventually. He was ready for this day before you were, too, but he had tried his best not to rush you here. As soon as you told him you stopped taking your birth control back in November, he was ready for you to be knocked up the next day.

But now you were, and he was looking forward to all of it. The arguments had been worth it. The way he fucked things up before had been worth it, because both of you worked hard to fix things which told him you were unbeatable.

"We're going to be awesome parents," he said, making you laugh as he parked at the pharmacy. When you tried to climb out your door, Bradley tugged on your hand and whispered, "Come over here. I don't want to stop touching you. I don't want to let go of you."

You willingly crawled onto his lap and let your cheek come to rest on his shoulder. "Don't let go of me."

"I won't," he promised, stroking your belly again like he just couldn't help himself. "Hey, should we call your parents this weekend and tell them the news?"

You pulled a few inches away from him with a little pout and shook your head. "I think it's too early, Bradley."

"Oh. Right," he replied, suddenly embarrassed that he wasn't sure about all of the timelines and exactly what everything meant.

"You know," you added softly. "In case something... happens to the baby. It's still so early. There's still a good chance that something could go wrong."

Bradley's body felt like it was sent into a freefall just thinking about anything happening to either of you. He held you tighter and kissed you a little rougher than he meant to, making you moan as he shook his head. "No. Don't say that." His voice was thick with emotion as he squeezed his eyes closed. "Don't say that, Baby Girl."

"Okay," you whispered, taking his face in both of your hands and caressing him with your soft and steady fingers. "I won't say it again." You kissed his lips and his scars as you pushed your fingers gently back through his hair which was probably already a mess from golfing earlier. But the more you touched him, the better he felt, and he took a few deep breaths as you said, "But I'm already so attached right now that it's a little scary. Already attached to the baby and the idea of you being a daddy."

"I am too," he promised as he opened his eyes to see you so close to him. "I'm so ready for this."

You kissed him one more time as you whispered, "I love you." And then you led him inside as he remembered all the times he played with Jeremiah and changed his diapers and read him books. Oh shit, he was so excited to have it for himself, he scooped up at least ten pregnancy tests while you laughed and chased him up to the registers.

"Do you think that's enough?" you asked sarcastically as he leaned down to kiss the top of your head.

He picked some bottles of ginger ale out of the small refrigerator case next to the register as he said, "Listen, I missed the one from this morning, so you owe me. Just humor me, okay? I want to watch those little lines show up with my own eyes."

As he reached into his pocket for his wallet to pay for the collection of tests, he realized he was still wearing his golf clothes and shoes. In all of his excitement, he'd forgotten to change. And now he was getting excited all over again as he inserted his credit card and looked at you. Should he get you right home to take the pregnancy tests? Take you to bed and show you how attached he was, too? Visit the Ford dealer?

He groaned, knowing the Ford dealer was going to win out since he actually had your attention on the new car right now. "Here," he told you, handing you the bag as he buckled you back in again. "Drink one of the bottles so you'll have enough pee for the tests while I drive us to look at the new Broncos. Start thinking about what color you want."

"Red," you replied immediately. "It's what I had before, plus it's your favorite color."

"Fuck," Bradley practically whined, lacing his fingers with yours. "A hot, pregnant wife, a baby on the way, and two Broncos in the driveway? This might be the best day of my life so far. I don't know how much more I can handle here."

You laughed as he kissed you all over your face, resting his hand gently against your belly through your shirt. His to-do list was growing by the minute, and he was a little alarmed that his heart rate was elevated with no signs of slowing down, but every time he looked at your face he said, "I love you."

------------------------------

"It's just butter, Bradley," you said as you watched him trying his best to help you cook Carole's birthday dinner. "How are you this bad at melting butter?"

He shot you a playful glare before moving to stand behind you at the stove, wrapping his arms around you so that his hands were resting on your belly. "I'll just watch the pro then."

You shook your head, still a little startled by everything that happened today. An hour at the Ford dealership and the two of you left hand in hand after paying a deposit for the red Bronco that they were going to acquire for you from a dealer in northern California. Then you came home and took ten more pregnancy tests while Bradley sat in the bathroom with you, shooting you his big, soppy brown eyes filled with tears while he smiled. They were all positive, and they were all still lined up on the vanity, and you were pretty sure he kept occasionally sneaking off to look at them.

As you turned the crab cakes over in your cast iron pan, you whispered, "I feel like your mom is watching over us somehow."

"Oh, I have no doubt," he replied immediately, holding you a little tighter and nudging your sore breasts. "Goose, too. But especially her, on her birthday. She'd have been a mess over this news."

You set the spatula down and had to close your eyes. Your hormones were all over the place, and this was the thing that sent you immediately into a fit of body wracking sobs. "What's wrong?" Bradley asked with concern, turning you around and inspecting your hands. "Did you burn yourself?"

"No," you wailed. "I'm just so happy, but it's not fair that your parents aren't here. Like I can deal with the fact that I never got to meet them, but this is so not fair! And I'm sorry, but I can't control my emotions at all."

He pulled you closer and let you cry, kissing your ear and whispering that everything was going to be okay. As you got your breathing under control, he said, "If you're this emotional at like five and a half weeks, I guess I better buckle in for the ride."

You glared up at him before he leaned down to kiss your tears away with a smile, and you let him take the brownies out of the oven and load a plate with dinner. With your hand held in his, Bradley carried the meal to the table, but he led you to the piano instead of one of the chairs.

"Remember how to play it?" he asked softly as he took a seat and patted the bench next to him. You needed a short tutorial, but he was as patient as ever as he reminded you of the notes. Then you helped him play and sing Happy Birthday to Carole even though it wasn't perfect, and at the end he whispered, "Thanks, mom. Let's go eat, Baby Girl."

You sat perched on his lap like always, mouth watering as you looked at the steak and crab cakes. Everything looked amazing, and you were starving. "How does it taste?" you asked as Bradley took three bites of dinner in rapid succession.

"Fucking incredible," he replied as you cut yourself a piece of steak. It was buttery and delicious, and it practically melted in your mouth. You moaned as you tried the crab cakes, and they were pretty good, too. About halfway through the meal your stomach lurched, and you turned to look at Bradley.

He smiled at you as you shook your head and said, "Oh no." You practically fell off of his lap as you ran for the hallway bathroom, barely making it in time to empty the contents of your stomach into the toilet. He was right behind you, rubbing your back as you sat down hard on the floor and caught your breath.

"This is a pregnancy thing, right?" he asked softly. "Morning sickness?"

You nodded. "I think so. I was going to call my doctor on Monday anyway and tell her about my positive tests, but I'll tell her about this, too."

Bradley collected you in his arms and asked, "Are you hungry?"

"Starving," you whined, letting your forehead come to rest against his sternum.

"I have an idea," he replied. A few minutes later, you were sitting on the couch with a plate of crackers smeared with peanut butter in your hand and the trash can on the floor in front of you. Bradley finished eating the plate of Carole's birthday dinner, and now he was working on cleaning up the kitchen while he dug into the tray of brownies. You gingerly bit into one of the crackers, and your stomach growled but didn't lurch. So you kept going.

It took you an hour, but you finished the whole plate as you thought about how things would change around here with a baby involved. Nothing seemed too startling though, probably because you'd been subconsciously looking forward to this for such a long time. You knew Bradley was as well. And the way he came out to check on you several times as he cleaned up the house had you swooning over your husband a little bit.

You shared the last cracker with Tramp and then stood to take your plate to the kitchen where Bradley was leaning on the island looking at his phone. "What are you doing?" you asked him.

He looked up at you and blushed a little bit. "Looking at crib bedding," he replied, and you practically tossed the plate at the sink before hurrying to his arms. "You feeling better?"

You nodded. "Crib bedding?" You were instantly melting into his touch.

"Yeah. I thought we could do airplanes?"

You whimpered against his muscular chest as he pocketed his phone. "Yes, Roo, we can do airplanes."

He rubbed your back as you tucked your hands up inside the golf shirt he had been wearing all day and let your fingers skim along his abs. "I'm just really excited about this," he said, voice full of emotion. "All the baby stuff. And a nursery. I was already thinking about finishing the attic, but now we should definitely do it so your parents can stay up there when they visit their grandchild. And we can get those convertible car seats for both Broncos. And we should probably start looking at daycares before the baby is born. Like the really good daycares, you know?"

"Oh fuck," you moaned as you looked up at him. "Bradley. You're incredible." You rubbed yourself against the fly of his white pants, and both of his eyebrows shot up.

"You want to?" he rasped, and you started pulling him toward the bedroom. "Last time we had sex, I hurt you, Sweetheart. I don't want to do that again."

"You won't," you promised as you tugged off his shirt. "You won't, because I know what's going on now."

He nodded and reached for his pants zipper as you quickly got yourself undressed and climbed into bed. Bradley watched you as he struggled with his shoes and socks before he could take his pants off, and the two of you shared a laugh. Then you bit your lip as his hard cock sprung free, practically vibrating with anticipation as he plopped down on the bed on his back.

"Come here," he whispered, but when you started to straddle his hips, he shook his head. "No. Up here." You leaned down to kiss him, and he welcomed you with a smile on his face, but after his tongue tangled with yours he broke the kiss. "I want you to sit on my face."

"Oh," you gasped as he reached for your butt and pulled you up until you were straddling his neck. Then his mouth was on you, and you were reaching for the headboard with one hand as your fingers grasped Bradley's curls with the other. He was so gentle, kissing up and down your most intimate parts before separating you with his nose. "Oh my god," you whined as he nudged your clit and looked up at you before starting to suck.

You were already pulsing around nothing, your fingernails scraping along his scalp as you rolled your hips gently against his mouth. Bradley licked you up and back before sucking gently again. The more aroused you got, the more your boobs hurt, but it wasn't as bad as last time. Not when his mouth was doing everything to make you wetter as he gently ran his hands along the backs of your thighs and your butt.

It would have come as no surprise to you if he told you that you were dripping wet now as you whispered, "I want your cock."

Bradley practically growled as he released you, his mouth glistening as he licked his lips. "Only if I'm not going to hurt you," he reiterated, voice deep and gravelly as you moved further down his body. "Stop me if I am."

You lifted his length and slipped him slowly inside you as he grunted and propped himself up on one hand. "Feels good," you promised him as you pushed and pushed until he was fully seated. His eyes were big pools as he hesitated a bit before kissing the valley between your breasts, his lips feather light. And that was exactly what you needed as he brought his other hand up to your belly.

"I love you," he whispered, letting his lips barely caress your nipple as you rocked slowly. "I love you so much, Sweetheart."

When his tongue grazed your breast, you whined for more, so he took your nipple between his lips. Instead of sucking, he let his tongue drift along lazily as you barely rocked your hips backward and forward, playing with his hair. "I love you, Daddy," you told him as you smirked.

He looked up at you as he released your breast and gently started to lick your left one as you cupped his cheek. Between kisses and soft nuzzles, Bradley poured his heart out to you as you enjoyed the feel of him, thick and delicious inside you.

"I'll take care of both of you. Always. I'm going to love you forever. I'll never stop. You're perfect. So fucking perfect. I can't get enough. I can't wait for everything."

You were barely moving on his cock when you came hard, your nipples wet to the cool air from his saliva and your fingers gripping his hair. "Bradley. Bradley. Bradley," you panted, squeezing him so tight as you pulsed around him.

He grunted, watching your face as he let himself come undone, too. He was still breathing heavily as he leaned back against the pillows, and you sank down on top of him. "I didn't hurt you?"

"Not at all," you promised. "My breasts are so tender, but that felt amazing."

"Got it," he whispered, nodding as he wrapped his arms around you. Very slowly you let your body press to his, careful to get into a position that didn't make you want to wince. "I can be extra gentle," he promised. "I can be anything you need. Anything either of you need."

A chill rippled through your body at his words, because you knew they were true. You leaned up and looked at his handsome face, cheeks flushed and lips softly parted. When you kissed him, he tasted like you. His softening cock was still inside you, but neither of you made any move to get cleaned up quite yet.

"You can't stop touching me, can you?"

"I can, Sweetheart. I just don't want to," he replied softly from where he had his face buried against your neck. "Hey, we should go to bed early since you've been so tired. Maybe the baby needs the extra sleep."

"Oh," you gasped, pulling back and examining his face. "Early." You figured you had to be between five and six weeks pregnant, but the last time you had your period, it had come early.

"What?"

Your mind was swirling as you did the math, and a smile broke out on your face.

"What?" he asked again, looking at you in puzzlement.

If your period had been early, then you were probably only still ovulating for the very first day that Bradley had been home from his special mission. You started laughing as you kissed him over and over again before rolling onto your back and cracking up.

"Tell me," he said, rolling to his side next to you as he started laughing, too.

"Oh my god, Roo," you wheezed. "I think you got me pregnant when you totaled my car."

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A BABY!! A BRADSHAW BUN IN THE OVEN! MOM AND DAD! Do you want to read more of the pregnancy adventure? I hope so. The fact that this has been planned out for the past year is just wild to me, and I'm so happy I got to share it with you. Thanks for everything @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 28

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761 notes · View notes

ultravioletrayz · 10 months ago

Note

So my idea for degradation fic involving Miguel would be something like this- (also please keep an open mind this idea is kinda out there)

So lets say Miguel is your mentor and you are so eager to please and do good work. You have always been kinda good at everything so people complementing you and telling you how great you are is nothing new. But Miguel is different, he's hard to please. So when you do something right he's not complementing you and that is odd for you, and when you mess something up well...he's quick to criticize you. this stirs something within you.

So you keep trying to please him and he's not into it he just keeps bringing you down and reader is starting to like it, sometimes wanting messing up. So lets say reader makes a big mistake on a mission and Miguel is ready to yell and degradant them but reader is getting turned on by it and Miguel noted it so he starts to degradant them more and it starts getting into NSFW territory. while he's getting into it he's just saying filth to you. "your so such a needy slut" "look at you getting turned on while I bully you, pathetic" "you want to be a good girl? you want me to praise you? too bad...now open..." *spits in readers mouth*

then if you can end it off where reader in passed out and thats when he's sweet in the aftercare when she dosn't know. he will open up to her one day just not yet.

Not even gonna lie, if Miguel was a meanie towards me i wouldn’t know whether to cry or cum.

Pairing: miguel o’hara x f!spiderperson!reader

Warnings: 18+, degrading kink, rough sex, fingering, orgasm denial/mild edging, getting bent over miguel’s desk, marking, clit slapping (like, once), pull-out method, absolutely terrible and rushed ending, miguel being mean, horny, and ultimately just socially-awkward

Summary: you strive for perfection in all areas… until the opportunity arises where doing the opposite will give you access to the perfection inside your mean boss’s boxers.

A/N: before anyone tries to come for me for making miguel seem like an asshole in this fic, ik that this isn’t entirely true to miguel’s character. however, i’m horny and dgaf. enjoy!!

Word Count: 3K (unedited)

For as long as you could remember, people would refer to you as ‘gifted’. It was as though everything you attempted to achieve was accomplished with ease. In your world, on the days when the Society was a distant memory and you were given the opportunity to act as a true Friendly Neighbourhood Spider-Person, you practically lived in a bubble of praise. Surprisingly, the media worshipped you, recognising you as the hero you are. Locals chanted your name, asked for autographs, and even demanded you accept gifts and tokens of appreciation every time you were spotted in your costume on the streets.

Although you forced yourself to stay humble within the public eye, you would be lying if you tried to convince yourself that the compliments and special treatment didn’t make you feel good, didn’t push you to be a better superhero for the sake of the citizens who practically worship the ground you walk on.

Which is the primary reason why having to tend to work and assignments at the Spider Society caused you so much misery. When you were first recruited, a few other Spider-People had mentioned how short-tempered and cold the boss is, but you had expected to win him over with your natural, over-achieving flare. That goal was quickly crushed when you met Miguel O’Hara for the first time. He had immediately lectured you on certain habits he had observed from footage of you fighting crime at home, giving you strict instructions on how to be better at your job. From then on, you’ve tried your best to view his constant criticism as a positive and value his (poor) attempts at mentoring you.

It didn’t take long for you to realise that he wasn’t really trying to help you, and he was just a grumpy asshole as everyone had warned and wanted you to follow orders rather than going out and trying to prove yourself constantly. Lately, you’ve been slipping up, making mistakes. You had come to terms with the fact that Miguel wasn’t interested in showing you any appreciation or praise for your hard work, and it had begun to affect your performance on missions, bringing you to this point.

“What the hell was that?” Miguel snarls at you, his platform lowering as he slams his fist on his desk and glares at you, his sharp red eyes burning holes in your pretty, sad little face. You had almost let an anomaly get away, blinded by your insecurities and Miguel’s lack of interest in your skills, you would have destroyed an entire universe if it weren’t for the backup Miguel had sent you.

“Miguel, let me explain-” You start, being cut off by an angry huff from Miguel.

“I’m sick of the excuses. I don’t care about how you handle shit in your own dimension. When you come here and are trusted to keep the multiverse stable, I expect you to do as you’re told. Unless the small task of containing the minor anomalies I assign you is too much to handle?” Miguel scoffs, shaking his head as he looks you up and down.

The look of disappointment on his tan, chiselled face would usually have you on the verge of tears, but as you’ve grown accustomed to his harsh beratement, it’s begun to have a very different effect on you. You can just imagine him, brushed back curls dishevelled and clinging messily to his face as he pounds into your needy pussy, whispering absolute filth into your ear as he uses you to get off. The thought has you practically soaking through your Spider-Suit, causing you to instinctively squeeze your thighs together as you force yourself to keep your gaze from dropping to Miguel’s broad, muscular physique. As his glare intensifies and he rolls his eyes at your subtle movements, you know he’s got you figured out.

Miguel’s heightened senses pick up on your current state of arousal, the scent of your slick making him dizzy as it clouds his mind. He had always beaten himself up about how harsh he could be towards you, reflecting on his cruelty to such a pretty girl with shame and regret. But finding out that you liked being treated so poorly by him, it has him going fucking crazy.

“Por el amor de Dios,” (for fuck’s sake) Miguel hisses, taking a step towards you, looming over your smaller form with a judgemental scowl plastered on his face. “You’re pathetic. Risking everything we work for here, just so that you can imagine me yelling at you while you finger-fuck yourself at night?”

Your eyes widen, his words reigning true as they hang in the air of the room. Yet, you make a miserable attempt at denying the accusation by shaking your head softly and taking a step back. Miguel only moves closer to you, intimidating you with his mere presence as his scowl curls into a cruel smirk.

“No me mientas, hermosa,” (don’t lie to me, beautiful) He whispers, one of his large, calloused hands grabbing your face and pulling you back towards him, fingers squeezing your cheeks as his breath hits your skin, sending shivers up and down your spine. “You’re usually so eager to please me. Did you think I was stupid enough not to notice when you started messing things up?”

“Miguel-” You whine, voice muffled due to the way he squishes your cheeks together, making your pretty lips jut out in a sad little pout.

“It always annoyed me how bubbly and determined you are,” He admits bluntly, sharp red eyes scanning your face, before trailing down to watch the way your thighs rub together in a pitiful attempt to alleviate the arousal coursing through you due to his relentless disparagement. “But I didn’t think you’d resort to acting like a dirty whore just because I’m not impressed by the ‘Friendly Neighbourhood’ act.”

His free hand trails down your body, fingers gliding between the valley of your breasts, down your stomach, and stopping just above the crotch of your Spider-Suit. He chuckles lowly as he watches the way you squirm in his grasp, hips attempting to roll against his hand for any kind of friction.

If we had to be completely honest, he actually enjoyed watching you work. You really are gifted, always applying yourself to missions. When he heard you would be handling an anomaly for him, he would feel relieved, even proud. But he knew that any compliments he gave you would just be lost in the sea of praise you already received. So, in order to set himself apart, he decided he was going to be a complete dickhead to you. He figured bullying you would motivate you to seek him out in a crowd, make you strive to impress him and show off to him, and ultimately bring the two of you closer. It was shameful, how awful he is at making first impressions, that he’d rather hurt a beautiful young girl’s feelings as opposed to being a reliable boss and potential friend. But now knowing that he hadn’t completely ruined his chances at getting closer to you, he was certainly going to take full advantage of this new development.

“Now look at you, you don’t wanna be a good girl for me anymore, nena?” Miguel teases, grinning as he sees the need and innocence in your eyes as he releases your face with a harsh push. “You wanna be a dumb little slut for your fucking boss, instead?”

You want to say no, want to deny his harsh words and hopefully gain back some of the dignity he was stripping away from you, but your body yearns for Miguel’s touch, his degradation fueling your most carnal desires, and you nod your head frantically. Miguel sighs at your eagerness, tapping your cheek firmly as he wraps a hand around your throat, not applying any pressure but allowing his thumb to lazily stroke the side of your neck.

He leans in to bite your bottom lip hard, causing you to cry out in pain and open your mouth. He takes the opportunity and slams his plump lips against yours, tongue intertwining around yours inside your warm mouth as he groans into the sloppy, demanding kiss. His hand drops from your throat as his bulging arms tuck themselves underneath the fat of your ass and he lifts you up, carrying you over to his platform and dumping you on top of his desk, lips never leaving yours. Miguel’s razor-sharp claws protrude from his fingertips, slicing through the material of your Spider-Suit and prompting a startled yelp from you as he rips your clothes right off your body.

The matching set you have on underneath has his dick thrumming in his suit, and he almost loses sight of his initial plan in a desperate temptation to worship your gorgeous body and shower you with the praise that he knows you deserve. But he wants to be different, wants to hold a special place in your heart, and this was the only way to do it.

“You wore these for me, didn’t you?” He hisses flippantly against your lips, throwing the rags of your once cute little Spider-Suit across his office, before tearing your bra open from the middle with just the strength of his grip, claws retracting back into the pads of his fingers. “Puta de mierda.” (fucking whore)

Miguel flips your body over on his desk with ease, your face now pressed against the cold, hard material as Miguel leaves a trail of deep bite marks and hickeys across the exposed skin of your back, making his way down to your clothed pussy at an agonising pace, your ass wiggling enticingly to try and convince Miguel to give you what you want, what you need from him. Miguel peels your soaked panties off of you, tossing them onto his desk chair for later, as his fingers run up and down your already dripping folds, causing him to chuckle to himself.

“I never would’ve pegged you for a girl who gets off on this kind of thing,” Miguel whispers as his fingers explore your wetness, his tone much softer as his sharp, red eyes admire the way your body looks bent over his desk. He snaps himself out of his trance, opting to tap on your clit harshly with his fingers to bring himself back to a place of lust and callousness, and to tease you further.

Miguel dips his two fingers into your cunt, making you moan and cry out, your hands gripping the edge of Miguel’s desk as you push your hips back to fuck yourself on his thick fingers. He pumps his digits in and out of you at a leisurely pace, curling them to hit that sweet, gummy spot inside of you each time they delve deeper into your pussy. Miguel groans at the way you clench around his fingers as he thrusts them into you, his knuckles drenched in your arousal as he watches the way you grind against his hand when his thumb rubs your pulsing clit to stimulate you further.

You’re completely falling apart at his touch, the way his fingers deliciously stretch your hole making you see stars as you approach your climax. Just as you’re about to cum, Miguel pulls his fingers out of your cunt and gives your clit a harsh slap, making you whine as your entrance twitches at the sudden loss.

“Sluts don’t get to cum ‘til I say so, muñeca.” Miguel taunts, disabling his nano-tech suit, the holographic material dissolving and revealing his tall, tan, muscular, the mere feeling of him towering over you from behind making you moan against his desk. He holds his fat, stiff cock in one hand, dragging it between your folds and gathering the slick trickling down your thighs as he scoffs at the way you tremble and spasm at his touch. “Especially sluts like you.”

Miguel plunges his dick into your pussy aggressively, bottoming out in one harsh slam of his hips against your ass and causing you to scream, his hand coming down to cover your mouth and muffle your echoing moans as he delivers fast, disciplining thrusts into the depths of your core, tip kissing your cervix with each frenzied movement. His cock rams into you mercilessly as he digs one hand into the plush of your waist while the other holds your head up, the two fingers he was using to play with your pussy forcefully entering your mouth. On instinct, you wrap your lips around them and suck the remnants of your essence off of his skin, moaning and choking on his thick digits as Miguel’s length stretches you to the brink of what is possible for your tight little pussy to handle and his balls slap against your puffy clit.

“Pussy was fucking made for me,” He grunts, delivering a smack to your juicy ass, the sting making you whine against his fingers, saliva dribbling down your chin and saturating the desk below your face. “Squeezing me so tight. It’s a shame that this pretty cunt can’t make up for how shit you are at your job. Maybe I won’t bother assigning you missions anymore? I’ll just call you in when I need a hole to fuck.”

Wow. He really did think of you as useless. You had always considered yourself to be good at what you do. At home, you were a hero. Here, bent over your boss’s desk and being fucked so mercilessly, you felt like nothing but a whore. You cry, tears rolling down your cheeks as you moan and squeal with each thrust of Miguel’s thick cock into your hungry pussy. Despite your underlying feelings of shame for your recent failures as an employee, being fucked like a slut by the very man you’ve been fantasising about since the first time you had the displeasure of meeting was able to snap you out of your sadness and overwhelm you with passion.

Hearing you sob around his fingers fills Miguel with a sharp pang of guilt, but he brushes it off and pounds into you harder to remind himself of his end goal, breaking you down until he can make you his. If you really were as into his cruelty as you seemed, he was going to give you exactly what you so desperately needed.

“Mig-Miguel, I’m- fuck! I’m so close.” You whine, his fingers in your mouth making your voice come out as a spluttering cry.

Miguel pulls his soaked fingers out of your mouth and holds your waist with both hands, fucking his cock impossibly deeper inside of you as the sound of skin slapping against skin and both of your desperate, breathy sounds of pleasure fill the dark office.

“Beg for it, amor.” He whispers against your ear, his chest pressed flush against your back as he nibbles at the smooth skin of your neck as his dick moves in and out of you at a brutal pace, the veins of his thick length caressing the warm walls of your pussy as he smushes his tip against your sweet spot with each thrust.

“Please, Miguel! I promise I’ll do better. I won’t make another mistake again, I’m gonna be so good, I swear! Better than I’ve ever been!” Your breathless pleas make Miguel feel a conflicting surge of both guilt and power. He watches the way your back arches and your thighs shake as you try so so hard not to cum, to be a good girl for him and follow his orders. At the end of the day, you just wanted him to like you, to see how good of a hero you are, and he knew that. Which is why he’s finding it so fun to toy with you like this.

“Shh, I know. I’ll let you cum, sweetheart.” Miguel coos, tugging on your hair so that he can reach your face and plant a kiss on your tear-stained cheek, his soft, long-awaited act of reassurance contrasting the lewd sounds of squelching as he fucks you with mind-numbing intensity.

He reflects on his words as he listens to the way his unexpected words make you cry and whimper, and part of him regrets the way he approached your relationship, wishing he had just been honest with you and praised your efforts from the start, rather than being cruel and bending you over his desk to fuck you so harshly. But the way you tighten and pulse around his sensitive dick brings him back to the present, and he gives your waist an encouraging squeeze.

The tiny action of consolation has you spiralling, your vision going spotty as you squirt around Miguel’s fat cock, squeals and moans leaving your glistening lips as your whole body twitches with the all-consuming sensation of your release. Watching as you come undone, Miguel feels himself rapidly approaching his own release. He curses and pulls out of your sopping cunt, watching the way his leaky tip shines with your juices. It sends Miguel over the edge. He lets out a sharp whimper as he cums all over your round ass and your spine, thick globs of his climax staining your sweaty skin and making you exhale shakily.

The sex and your crying make you pass out on the desk, and Miguel quickly covers you up and carries you to his quarters, laying you down in his bed and tucking you in. He whispers a quick apology to you, letting his cruel persona disappear and showing you how much he actually values you as a colleague and person when he thinks you’re asleep, but you hear everything.

Maybe you didn’t really need to be praised by Miguel to know that you were good enough. And maybe he didn’t need to be so afraid of showing you that appreciation. For now, though, the angry sex would be a pleasant memory for both of you, in an odd way.

“Get some rest, cariño. You deserve it, for being such a good girl.”

I FINALLY FINISHED IT OMG. Thank you all for being so patient 💜💜

#ultravioletrayz #miguel smut #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o’hara smut #spiderman 2099 smut #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel x reader #𖤓uv-c𖤓

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dira333 · 7 months ago

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Big, butiful and nice - Fatgum x Reader

I have carried this idea with me for a while. This features a single Mom! Reader, so if kids aren't your thing, you don't have to read it. Pure Fluff. Tagging @missalienqueen @bbglay @pixiesavvy @itsyoursunshinebabe @marti-mp4

“UP! UP!” Chubby arms reach for him and huge eyes twinkle up at him over a row of missing teeth.

“Oh?” Toyomitsu reaches down and picks the little girl up. “Who are you?”

“Etsuko.” She tells him proudly, trying to reach for the zipper of his costume.

“Hi, Etsuko. Where is your mommy?”

“Dead.”

He stills. Oh.

“Etsuko?!” A woman in a business suit rushes around the corner, spots the little girl and halts. “You can’t just run off!”

It’s only then that you notice him - not that he’s trying to hide in his big form.

“Oh! Oh, I’m so sorry, Mr. Fatgum, Sir! I was just showing Etsuko the on-site childcare when she ran off! Please, let me take her, I don’t know why she bothered you.”

“Big!” Etsuko explains simply. “I can see the world!”

“Yes, you do!” Toyomitsu bounces her once, twice and revels in her giggles. “And don’t worry, it happens.” He transfers the little girl to your arms, watches with fondness as she immediately snuggles into your side. “Your…?”

“Niece, Sir. She’s my niece. I just… uh, I just transferred this week and this is all pretty new for us, but I promise we’ll be totally professional from now on.”

“Oh, please don’t.” He laughs, waving his hand, “That’d be boring, right?”

You look a little dumbfounded. It’s pretty, he notices, when your features soften. When you’re not constantly focused on looking all-serious.

“Boss?” A voice asks from the other end of the hallway. He turns to see Kirishima, all dressed up in his costume and eager to get going. Toyomitsu nods and turns back to you.

“I guess I’ll see you around. And Etsuko,” he boops her nose, “Keep smiling, okay?”

“Mr. Fatgum, Sir?” Toyomitsu looks up from his Desk and the assortment of food spread across its expanse.

You’re dressed in a different suit this time, the dull grey color of it making you look like a banker coming to collect his soul. He shivers.

“I have the analysis. Do you want to go over it now or later?”

“If you don’t mind me eating while you talk, we can go over it now.”

You nod and slip into the chair on the other side of his desk.

You’re a professional, he can tell. You stick out of their agency like a sore-thumb, but you’re probably also the voice of reason they need the most.

Yes, he’s on Number 58, but he’s also too slack with his employees. Lord knows there are many things he could improve.

You show him charts and numbers, studies and graphs. You’re smart, he can tell, to the point that he can’t help but interrupt you.

“Did you just do that calculation in your head?”

“Oh… oh yeah, it’s my… it’s my Quirk.” You explain, seemingly embarrassed by it. “I’ve got a computer for a brain, basically.”

“That’s cool.”

You shrug. Your eyes flicker to the Takoyaki. He pushes them towards you, silently offering them.

“Oh, no, I shouldn’t.” You wave your hands but he shakes his head. “Take one. Tell me about yourself for a bit, will you? You transferred here from Endeavours Agency, right?”

“Yes.” You nod, still eyeing the Takoyaki. He picks one up and hands it to you, watching the emotions flicker over your face. Eventually, you pop it into your mouth and chew and he’s lucky to have been watching because happiness flickers over your face like a shooting star over the night sky.

“Another?” Toyomitsu hands you another one. It doesn’t take long for the dish to vanish.

You must have been hungry, or maybe it’s just your favorite dish, but the food has softened your features, blurred the harsh lines that you draw yourself in.

“My sister died unexpectedly. I don’t know who Etsuko’s father is, but my parents died when I was a teen and I’m the only one she has left. I did love working for Endeavour, I really did, but it’s no place for a single mother. I heard you offered on-site childcare, so I applied.”

“And what do you think of us so far?”

“Well,” you reach for your tablet again, but he stops you.

“Without the numbers, please?”

You hesitate for a second. “It’s… it’s warm, I guess. Everyone’s really nice here and no one minds when Etsuko runs off yet again, coming to find me in my office. I know it’s my job to look for opportunities to improve your brand and your agency, but I am constantly at odds.”

“Why is that?”

“If you could have an Agency like Endeavour, would you do it if it meant giving up all the things that make you special?”

He considers it. If there’s no on-site childcare at Endeavour’s, and he’d have to give this one up, quite a few of his employees would fall away. Like Kuno-kun, who brings in his daughter and his wife’s homemade baking. Or Noda-san, who knits scarfs for everyone in the winter and who’s using the child-care for her grandsons.

There’d be no longer the laughter of children heard in the hallways, no more drawings handed over at the end of a semester.

“No, I don’t think I’d want to give that up. At least not all of it. But we could find a compromise, I guess. Make the best of what we are. If that means we’ll stay at Nr. 58, I’m fine with that. Being a Hero doesn’t mean to have the highest rank, but to save the most people, right?”

Surprise flickers over your face.

It’s gone as fast as it came but he likes to believe that he made an impact on you.

“How are you all doing today?”

Almost fifteen children surround him. The older ones are holding back in favor of the younger ones, he can tell, but they’re all so eager to tell him about their adventures.

“One after the other, okay?” Toyomitsu settles on a nearby chair. “But first we have to ask: who’s our newest member?”

Etsuko steps forward. Her hair is pulled up into little pigtails and she looks adorable.

“Hi, Etsuko. Do you want to sit on my lap today? You have to be careful though, because if you lean too much into me, I might suck you in.”

Her eyes widen, but the kids around her giggle. “Do it!” They tell her. “It’s so much fun.”

So she does, giggling almost hysterically as the fat absorption kicks in. Only her head’s left out, her pigtails whipping around as she shakes her head, giggling.

“If you want out, all you have to do is tell me, okay? No kicking.”

She nods.

At the end of this month's visit to the children, he leaves with a hand full of drawings and one sucker, tucked into his hand by one of the older children.

Toyomitsu’s almost down the hallway when he feels someone tugging at his legs. He turns to see Etsuko toddling after him. She reaches for him.

“Up?” She asks and he can’t say no to her big eyes and her small pout.

If he walks around the agency for a bit with her sitting on his shoulder instead of directly taking her back, that’s his secret and his secret alone.

Months pass.

Toyomitsu implements the first of your proposals. His ranking moves, slowly at first, until he finds himself at Nr. 35.

Etsuko has begun sneaking into his office once a week, handing him a drawing or a slice of fruit, left over from her lunch. Sometimes he lets her sit on his lap, listening to her talk about her day.

Certainly, you must know about it. How else could she bring in expensive chocolates one day and have your handwriting on her drawing the next, clearly pointing out that the yellow blob is him?

He’s been thinking a lot about you lately.

More than he should about one of his employees.

But he likes the way you talk, all serious one second, rattling down numbers and statistics, until he makes a joke and you can’t stop giggling, your voice suddenly smooth and soft.

He likes the way you look in the early mornings when Etsuko’s done her best to make you late, when your hair’s not done up perfectly and you’re missing your usual makeup. Or when you’d been with her for lunch and no one’s told you yet that there’s a sticky handprint on your blouse or your skirt is wrinkled, no doubt from Etsuko pulling on it.

You love your niece and he loves to see all signs of it, like an imprint you cannot wipe away.

So far, you haven’t shown any signs of interest in him.

You’ve started calling him by his last name, though, foregoing the “Sir” for most of the time.

But that doesn’t mean that you’d consider a date with him, right?

Or is he starting to get delusional?

“What do you think, Daddy?” Toyomitsu freezes.

Etsuko’s sitting on his lap, fingertip moving over one of her drawings as she explains.

It had been a perfectly fine moment up until now.

“What did you just call me?”

“Daddy!” She looks up at him, grinning so wide it must hurt her face. “Because you’re my Daddy.”

“I… well…” He struggles. He doesn’t know what to say. “Etsuko, you cannot call me that.”

“Eh? Why?” She pulls at his shirt. “Are you not my Daddy?”

“No, Etsuko. I’m not your Daddy. I like you a lot and I want to be your friend, but I’m not your Daddy.”

Her eyes start to water and he can feel himself panicking. He’s normally not that bad with kids, but this… this is just catching him on the wrong foot at the wrong time.

“Look,” he tries to explain. “It’s like with your Aunty, right? She loves you a lot, but she’s not your Mommy.”

“But you’re my Daddy!” Etsuko’s hands are balled into fists now. “Mommy said that Daddy was big and butiful and nice! You are my Daddy.”

“Oh, Etsuko.” Toyomitsu pulls her in, realizing her mistake. She’s crying into his shirt now, her tears more fueled by confusion and anger than real sadness. He lets her cry it out before he picks her up.

“I think we need to talk to your Aunty for a moment about this, okay?”

He hadn’t thought your face could turn any more serious, but he’d been mistaken.

There’s no softness left in your features as he explains. Etsuko’s sitting on your lap now, face snuggled into your blazer. He’s pretty sure that’s going to leave stains, but he’s also sure he shouldn’t point it out right now.

“I didn’t know,” you say. And “I’m sorry she bothered you this much.” And “I will make sure this doesn’t happen again.”

At some point he realizes that you’re no longer listening to him, ears closed off from his explanations. He can do nothing but leave you, wondering if he’s just ruined everything that could have possibly been.

For the following week, he gets no visits from Etsuko.

Toyomitsu does not dare to visit her in childcare either, unsure of what you want.

But he’s got an appointment with you on Thursday that he puts all his hopes on.

When you come in he can tell that you must have spent an extra minute preparing yourself beforehand, because there is no hair out of place and you’re wearing lipgloss like battle armor.

He feels wholly unprepared for this fight, even less so after losing a quarter of his body fat in yesterday’s fight.

But the sight of him, so much smaller and thinner than you’ve gotten to know him, seems to soften the resolve in your eyes.

“Are you okay?” You ask.

“If you refer to my body, I will be. I have to eat a lot in the next few days to get back to my usual form, but it’s nothing I can’t handle. If you refer to something else… No, I’m not okay with how this played out.

“About that…” You gingerly sink into your chair, hands folded over your lap. You’re not looking at him. “I did some more research. I should have done that ages ago. I… I’ve found Etsuko’s father.”

His heart beats painfully.

“Who is it?”

“His name’s Kan Sekijiro. I don’t know if you know hi-”

“Vlad King?”

“Ah, yes. So you know him?”

“I know of him. One of his students interned here. He’s… did you contact him?”

“Not yet.” You purse your lips. Considering that all Etsuko knew about her father… I am sorry that she got you confused. I know this is highly unprofessional and-”

“I don’t care.”

You still. Your eyes flicker over to him.

“Look,” he leans forward, can’t help it. He needs you to understand this. “This isn’t just Etsuko’s doing alone. I like spending time with her. I could have stopped anytime, bring her back every time she came over to my office. I didn’t put a stop on it and maybe I should have, but I…”

“What?”

“I have to preface this by saying that I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, or… or put you in a tight spot because I’m your employer, but-”

“Spit it out.” Your words are harsh and rushed and he can tell you regret them the second they leave your mouth. But you’re right. He’s stalling.

“I am interested in you.”

Your jaw slackens, your features soften with that well-known dumbfoundedness.

As you bury your face in your hands, he can feel his heart sink. Fighting criminals is so much easier than facing rejection.

“Are you okay?” He asks when your face doesn’t come back up. You nod into your hands.

“Are you sure? You’re not looking too good there.”

“It feels like my Quirk is overloading. I am…”

“Overthinking? I am familiar with that. Not that I suffer from it, but you’ve met Suneater, I guess.” He tries to joke, make light of the situation. It’s what makes you finally lift your head.

“If you’re serious,” you bite through your teeth, “About this. About… Etsuko and me. I… I’d take you out to dinner.”

Toyomitsu blinks. He’s expected everything but that.

“Are you serious?” He asks and you groan.

“No, I mean yes. But… you know how much I eat, right?”

You huff, looking away. He’s not the worlds expert in flirting, but you do look kinda flustered.

“I might have looked up All-You-Can-Eat-Restaurants ever since I’ve gotten to know you,” you mumble and the pout on your lips looks eerily like Etsuko’s.

“I’m home!” Toyomitsu calls out from the Genkan.

To his surprise, no tiny feet come running. When he peeks around the corner he finds you curled up on the Couch, an open book next to you on the floor. You must have fallen asleep reading.

“Hey,” he cards a hand through your hair to wake you gently. “Shouldn’t Sekijiro be back before dinner?”

“What?” You try to wipe the sleep from your eyes while snuggling into him. “Oh, no, he called before I took a nap. He’s bringing her back after Dinner. Apparently, they’re making pancakes.”

“Ah, did you tell him to bring leftovers?” He jokes, chuckling when you nod earnestly.

Life is good.

He’s got a wife and a daughter and his daughter’s father has turned into a good friend.

He’s got a job he enjoys, a Quirk he can rely on and so far he’s been able to stay himself.

There’s not much he’d wish for nowadays.

Well, except maybe some more food.

You’re still on the Couch when he walks into the kitchen, fully intending to make Dinner as soon as he’s gotten a little snack from the fridge.

But inside the fridge is a huge box. He furrows his brows and pulls it out. He recognizes the branding, but you only buy a cake at this bakery for important dates, like your wedding anniversary or Etsuko’s first day in kindergarten.

“Baby, did I miss an event?” He asks, flipping open the lid.

“Why do you ask?”

“There’s a cake in the fri-”

“Don’t open it!” You yell, rushing over. But the lid’s already open. The buttercream frosting is light blue and the icing a dark blue. Big, bold letters write out “World’s best Dad!”

“This is nice,” he says as you reach him, clearly out of breath and a little haggard. “But you didn’t have to buy an expensive cake to let me know. Not that I mind. Or is it for Sekijiro?”

“Ah,” your face is doing some weird contortions.

His eyes flicker back to the icing and something in his head clicks at the color.

“Taishirou, I’m pregnant.”

#my writing #fatgum x reader #fatgum #mha x reader #mha fluff #fatgum fluff #taishiro toyomitsu #toyomitsu x reader #toyomitsu fluff #toyomitsu taishiro x reader #taishiro toyomitsu x reader

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carmenized-onions · 6 months ago

Text

Doing Too Much. | House Call

logline; Appliances can reach their breaking point, when you push them too far. Same goes for people.

[!!!] series history, this is the sixth; First, Second, Third, Fourth, Fifth

[New Thing!!] Spotify Playlist, if you like to listen while you read. I listen to it when I write :) Constantly gettin' added to.

portion; 4.8k

possible allergies; eatin' meat, besides that, we're pretty good actually. did somebody say calm before the storm....?

pairing; Carmen ‘Carmy’ Berzatto & Fem Reader (no pronouns, but girl is said a couple times, i believe.)

After this chapter, I'm entering my era of couch hopping as I move to a new city n start a new job. I'm really excited for the chapter after this one, so hopefully I actually get time to write it-- But that's just my lil warning if you're left rereading for like two weeks </3 But I'll def be stalking my activity/inbox so please do yap to me

Monday morning. The next morning after everything. Well, closer to noon than morning, at this point. You’re supposed to have, what, a work ethic this week? After the most insane weekend of your life? No. You’re lazing around and doing fuck all. No matter who calls. Well… Not completely no matter, but like, most people.

When you check your phone, you’ve gotten a text at 6:43 A.M. Unknown number. Ah. Carmen. You put him in as Carmy, and put his nickname as ‘Mister New York’. Listen, old nicknames Mikey ingrained in your brain die hard.

It’s a simple text, deeply un-romantic.

‘Connections Puzzle #342’

Then, four lines of four perfect categories. Flawless. Purple first, even. The hardest category. And then,

‘Morning’

Stupid. Incredibly stupid, to be enamoured, by this. You reply,

‘Good morning!’

‘Connections Puzzle #342’

And then a failed jumble of coloured squares, you get one out of four categories. What the fuck is 'dogleg' and since when has it meant taking a sharp turn? You follow that up with,

‘Fuck you.’

Aside from Carmen, you’ve actually gotten texts from a couple people. Your boss at Eden’s asking if you’re alright. What the fuck did Cicero say? Oh well. You tell him you’ve ‘been better, been worse. Will be okay by next week.’ Perfectly vague, and you still get wired your cheque and tip out. Alright, maybe Uncle J does deserve your free labour.

Speaking of, the next text on your itinerary is from Uncle J, just info for the winter nuptials of Vinnie and Mira. Oh yeah. Three-hundred guests, you remember that part. You also remember him saying it’d be an ‘easy gig’… He did not mention you’d be the only bartender. This is going to be a nightmare. Oh well. You text back that despite it being an open bar you get to put out a tip jar. He just reacts to it, ‘haha’. That sounds like a yes to you.

And then, adorably, a selfie from Syd, wearing the collar and pins you’ve gifted her, under a green sweater. Cutie. You hype her up accordingly.

Besides some texting though, Monday is relatively unbusy. No calls. No emergencies. No businesses knocking down your door for your services. You’re thankful for a break, letting the inertia set in, finally being able to relax after fix after fix after—

Tuesday comes, you get sent another perfect round of New York Time’s Connections around half past six in the morning, along with a good morning text. And again, you fuck it up. You send him your Wordle results this time, as an act of rebellion. You then ask,

‘How’s reworking the menu going?’

‘Hard to say’

‘Ask me tomorrow’

God he’s an awful texter. Horrifically dry. You know you’re down bad beyond a belief when you find that endearing. You spend Tuesday drowning and pruning your plants after depriving them for so long.

Plus working on your art piece for Carmy. You’re pulling out old film photos, a canvas, and a load of bleach—It’s like high school art class all over again— Surprise surprise, the handyman who loves to up-cycle is a mixed media artist. Who could’ve guessed?

While trimming a photo, an exterior of The Beef, a picture frame on your wall falls down behind you, you tut, turning your head to it, chastising the air. “Mikey! It’s a copy, relax! I’ve still got the original print…”

There’s every chance you’re insane— No, you’re definitely insane. But you’re allowed to be, your best friend died, you’re allowed to talk to the air as if he’s still around. Sometimes the timing of doors swinging open for you and things falling down are just too uncanny to not be a ghost.

Wednesday arrives, and again, just after 6:40, Connections results. And the Wordle, this time; plus a ‘Good Morning’. It looks like this is simply just your thing, now. Every morning, the second both of you get up, you send each other puzzles and wish a good morning. You don’t mind that. It’s nice to have a ‘thing’, with someone. With Carmen.

Part way through the day, around two o’clock, you get another text. Two, actually. From Carmen, in quick succession.

‘Are you busy?’

‘Don’t worry if you’re busy. Can call Fak’

You’re quick to reply, frankly deeply offended.

‘Are you fucking firing me????’

‘I’m gonna get ready. Text me details’

While getting dressed, you watch three dots bubble, bubble, bubble… He’s taking forever, just don’t look at it, you’ll get anxious for no reason. No jumpsuit today, you’ve got to switch it up every now and again. Navy cargo pants with the perfect number of pockets and zippers, and an orange Chicago’s Kindest shirt, tucked in. Hm. Looking in the mirror, hickey is still there. Lighter, but there. Foundation? No. You’ll sweat it off and that’ll just bring up more questions. If Syd asks you’ll just tell her you fell down the stairs… On your neck. She's not the type to confront anything remotely sexual anyways.

Speaking of Syd, before Carmen can text you back, she calls you, which is fair— Don’t leave a Carmen to communicate. You stick your phone in the crux of your neck and answer while you pack your utility belt. This feels nearly nostalgic. “What’s fucked?”

Carmen is in the background; you can hear the tail end of a sentence, grumbling. “—Don’t call—”

“My life.” She responds without missing a beat. “And also, Carmy’s stove and oven.”

“Oh.” You squint. “What the fuck happened?”

“Overuse? I actually don’t fucking know, it just stopped working. We plugged it in and out— He even reset his apartment’s breakers. I dunno what’s wrong with it. It’s probably got something to do with him putting his fuckin’ jeans in there.”

“…He what?”

You can hear him in the background, again, clearer this time, grimacing, “What are you doing to me?”

Syd does not mind him at all, continuing, “I know! He’s fucking weird!”

“He’s extremely weird.” You like him a lot. “I’ll be over soon, were you guys like, mid-cooking?”

“Yessir.”

“Christ, alright… I think I have a dual burner hot plate laying around somewhere, you want me to bring it—”

They both speak clearly this time, together, “Please.”

You’ve got a pile of things to give to them anyways, and maybe you miss Carmy’s face. Just a little.

Instead of just buzzing you in, Carmy comes down for you. When he sees you through the door window, carrying a cardboard box, he almost breaks into a full run. He’s somehow opening the door, grabbing the box from your hands, and chastising you all at the same time. “You should’ve left it in the car, I would’ve—”

You step in through the entryway and kiss his cheek, cutting him short. You can’t help yourself, it’s the first time you’ve seen him since and you feel like a giddy teen. The teenage girl in your head is no longer just in your head, she’s fully manning the station. “You’re very sweet. But it’s also not heavy.”

When he continues to be frozen, the regret starts to mount, “Is—Sorry, is that okay to do—?”

“It’s very okay to do.” He manages to reply, with haste. Nodding to himself. “It’s good.” He nods again, then marches off, expecting you to follow to the elevator. You do.

“What floor?”

“Eighth.” He sniffs; you press the button. He stands next to you, looking you up and down. He astutely observes. “Orange.”

“Yeah.” You smirk, looking back at him, “Turns out, businesses can have two colours in their designs.”

What’s a little roasting of fellow small businesses between two not just friends?

“Oh yeah?” Coy, smirking. Oh no. You’ve gotta get the teen off the controls. He tilts his vision to stare at your jacket. Ah. You opted to wear your Carhartt instead of his jean jacket.

“Didn’t wanna give Syd more questions.” She already guessed you’re a sugar baby, you don’t want to wrap Carmen in on that too. Especially since ideally in a month or two he’ll be your boss. Hm. The Bear is going to need an HR.

He hums, nodding. “We’re not telling Syd?”

“What’s there to tell?” You grin, crossing your arms. “You suddenly have free time, Bear?”

He takes a beat, thinking, then just takes a deep frustrated yet amused exhale. “I’m gonna fuckin’…” He can’t think of a threat. “…Get you.”

You snort, “You’re gonna get me?”

“Fuck you—!” “You’re gonna fuckin’ get me, Bear?”

“I—” He tries to hold a straight face, it doesn’t work. “Yeah, I am.”

“Can’t wait.” You nod, grinning, turning back to the doors. “You told me to ask how menu’s going tomorrow.”

“I did.”

“It’s tomorrow.” The door dings, opening on the eighth floor; you step out together. He switches his grip to hold the box in one arm. Alright Biceps, we don’t need to brag here...

“It’s… We’re getting there.” He grimaces. “Syd’s recipes are always… Almost perfect.”

“Ah.” You nod, you know your friend well enough to know where this is going. “And she fucks up one thing hard?”

“Mhm.”

“And when you tell her it’s okay and give her a hand she just feels worse?”

He nods. A touch surprised you’re right on the dot so quickly. “Everything ends up perfect, but I think she’s finding the edits…”

“Demoralizing.” You walk down the hall together, he nods. “I know what she needs, I’ll find an in.”

“You always do.” He hums, you walk just a touch ahead of him, unknowingly walking past his door. He pulls you back by the back of your jacket, making you stumble back into him. This seems to be this villain’s intention; as when you turn around, he’s quick to grab your chin and kiss you.

“It’s very good.” He emphasizes, again, before opening his door and acting like everything’s totally normal and fine. Since when did he turn the tables and make you the desperate one? Son of a bitch.

Ah. Actually, subtract any attraction you had in this moment— He lives like this? Books on the floor, by the window. Jeans on the dinner table, because they were in the oven. The kitchen actually looks alright— You’re almost certain that’s purely for utilitarian purposes while they’re working on the menu. This motherfucker better have a bed frame or him asking you to sleep over would be downright offensive. God, he’s wonderful. God, you’re an idiot.

You find Syd at the table, moping, head in hands. Carmen sets the box down, sitting beside her. You pat the top of her head. She silently moves one of her hands to go over yours. You nod. The silent exchange of girls who know.

“Yeah?”

She nods, grumbling. “Yeah.”

Carmen has no fucking idea what’s happening and he’s never been more intrigued by a near wordless social interaction in his entire life. What? You’re not even making eye-contact. What the fuck is happening?

You fish through the box with your free hand, grabbing a pot. You place it in front of Syd. “Look.”

She peeks through her fingers. A tiny but flourishing nursery pot of basil sits before her. You speak. “You’re gonna hyper-fixate on this basil I’m gifting you, and then you’re gonna crack back into it with the dual burner until I’m done fixing the oven.”

She nods, putting her hands in her lap, “Yes, Chef.”

You pull out a second nursery pot, setting it down for Carmen. “For you.”

“What for?”

“Basil grows like a motherfucker and it’s getting unhinged. I need to start pawning off to people that’ll make good use of it. A-K-A, chefs.” You look at Syd, pointedly, “Talented chefs.”

You hand off the heating pad— Wrapped in brown paper with a card tied to it, to Carmen. “For Nat.” You add, when he looks confused, “Can’t imagine I’ll see her sooner than you will.”

He looks even more confused, when you hand him a spray bottle full of reddish water. It’s one of the good spray bottles, too. Continuous. Carmen wouldn’t know the difference, but you do. “Rosemary. —Water, that is.”

He squints; you clarify, gesturing to your own hair. “You mentioned, losing hair, so— Thought I’d make some, with the trimmings of rosemary I had. Got ginger and cloves in it, too.”

Why have you trapped him in hell? You’ve remembered such a specific off hand from days ago and acted on it? And he can’t express the grandiose level of affection he feels right now? Are you serious? You’re the devil. You’re absolutely the devil. He just coughs out a ‘thanks’.

“And, the pièce de résistance,” You pull out the old ass, boxed up double burner countertop stove. “A stovetop that ideally fuckin’ works. It was my single claim to fame in my college dormitory.”

Carmen’s already opening the box. Sydney smirks, curiosity peaked. “Was that legal?”

“You a fuckin’ RA?” You grin, poking her forehead. “It was not. And that’s exactly why everyone loved me— Didn’t serve them fuckin’ hot pockets.”

The configurations of Carmen’s apartment would be great for literally any occasion besides the current one. The kitchen is narrow, and so, when you pull out the stove to check the back, there’s an estimated no fucking room left for Carm and Syd, so they sit at the dinner table with your stove top. You’d think they’d look like they’re doing a cute hot pot. No. They look like two conflicted and confused twelve-year-olds working on a science project.

So do you, honestly. Wiring is definitely more your speed than plumbing, but if you’re being honest, this is the first oven you’ve worked on without your dad, and you’re having a hard time remembering everything. There’s a lot of embarrassed Googling on your phone, when you're sure they’re not looking. They can’t know you’re even slightly incompetent!

You’re pretty sure it’s just a couple damaged wires, fried from overwork— Easy fix, if you had wire. You don’t. Slightly harder fix. But soldering is your bitch really, you’re in your bag. You look stupid, wearing chunky goggles and a respirator, but you’re in your bag, baby! What’s that one saying? Skills make you hot? That’s not a saying.

But it is true. When Carmen’s able to peer into the kitchen, quickly looking over his shoulder when Syd takes a moment to write a measurement or direction down, you look stunning. Respirator and all. You just look correct there, in the kitchen. His kitchen. So stunning he feels guilty. Do you find it annoying? Constantly fixing errors behind him? Probably. You say it’s not a lot of work, but that can’t be true.

“How’s The Bear, ‘sides menu rework?” You ask, raising your voice in the kitchen.

“S’good.” Carmen. “I’m in hell.” Syd. Not hard to tell which statue is lying, here.

Syd stutters on, “Nat’s takin’ care of baby Michaela— Which is very good and—and cool, actually.”

“But?”

“But we’re back to handling the business side entirely ourselves, for like— The next month. Maybe two? Fuck, are we doing the wedding without her?” Sydney almost burns her sauce, Carmen’s quick to move it off the burner.

He mutters, “Don’t even start to think about it. It’s gonna be fine. We’re gonna figure it out.”

“Oh yeah, wedding— Have you gotten your menu yet?” You call from the kitchen, muffled by your respirator.

“Oh my god!” Sydney exclaims, and Carmen is wincing. She can’t tell you things are going wrong; doesn’t she know that? You’ll fix it, if things are wrong. You always fix it. Fix him. You’re gonna put him in your phone as Carmy Bad News. If you haven’t already. Start a support group with Tif.

Syd continues, “They’re so fucking particular and somehow also vague—Like, ‘we want salmon and chicken’ for main course— What kind of preparation? ‘Surprise us!’ Okay, how about roasted chicken—? ‘Mmmm, no, not that’. I’ve been told ‘non quello’ at least ten times in the last four days.”

No, you’re witty. Bad News Bear. Fuck, that’s definitely his name in your phone, isn’t it?

“Fuckin’ nightmare. Y’know, I’m the only fucking bartender? For like three hundred guests? Thank God they’re not asking for a custom cocktail or anything, I’d lose my shit.”

Sydney laughs, and she steps back into her flow easily, reducing the sauce without burning it, now. She looks more serene than she has in days. What? How are you doing that? What are you doing? Are you casting a spell?

“Can you even fucking imagine what their couples’ cocktail would be?”

You groan from the kitchen, laughing in return, “Not you too, Syd! Must you make me work!?”

“C’mon maestro, make a cocktail!”

“Bleh. Uh… They give long island iced tea energy, but it’s a wedding so— Like a boozier negroni?”

“That sounds fucking disgusting.”

“I didn’t say it’d be good, I said it’d be their couples’ cocktail.” You’re both giggling, like school girls. It’s like you said— You become teens, together.

Despite the fact that Syd is making an incredibly complex dish, and you’re fixing an oven—His oven— Ridiculing the other impossible tasks set out for the both of you… Despite all of that, you’re laughing.

Carmen is, what, nearly thirty? A restaurant owner, with a full crew, who attends Al-Anon, and is only now truly registering the power of an unsolvable burden being shared. Not fixed, shared. Talking. Laughing. God, this all comes so easy to you, doesn’t it?

You finish soldering, test each burner, and the oven— All working, thank God. You quietly cheer in the kitchen, removing your respirator and goggles. “We’re good here! Fixed!”

“C’mere!” Syd calls out to you, and so you do. Eagerly. She hands you a fork. Unprompted, she does the thing. You’d missed the OG, really.

“Beef Oxtail, pressed in a Foie Gras casing, seared. Basted in a King Oyster mushroom sauce. Pureed greens on the side.”

“I never know what the fuck you’re saying.”

She pushes the side of your face with the palm of her hand. “Put it in your mouth and chew.”

You want to make some sort of kink joke, but you respect the already struggling man in the room and take a bite. Hm. Hm. You put a finger over your mouth, swallowing. “...Now it might just be my unrefined palate.”

“That’s why we have you try it.” Carmen pipes in. Syd nods, following. “It’s important to know the baseline.”

“…It’s got like,” You hand the fork to Syd so she can try it, while you think. “A bit of a bitter aftertaste? Which might be the… goal?”

Syd spits it out the second it touches her mouth, she shouts your name, your actual name— A rarity. She’s so terrified that she forgets the Walk-In bit she’s been in on all week. “I just fuckin’ poisoned you— Oh my god?! Are you good? That was— Fuck! You swallowed that?!”

She grabs your face like a concerned mother, also maybe to check if you have superpowers, you’re not sure. All you know is there’s a golden opportunity to make another sex joke and you have to hold back. Life is so unfair.

Carmen takes a quick taste, also spitting it out. “I’ve got it, Chef, don’t sweat.” Immediately looking to the drafted recipe card to see where they went wrong.

Syd almost squeezes your cheeks like a stress ball but thinks better of it, letting go, groaning, beyond frustrated at this point. “You shouldn’t have to fix it— I should fuckin’ have it, at this point.”

Carmen's trying to ignore how much he relates to the sentiment. He's not the focus, right now.

“We make mistakes, Chef—” “Syd.” You snap your fingers, pointing to her, interrupting Carmen. “Can you help me grab something, from my car? It’s kinda big.”

Carmen’s quick to chime in, already going to untie his apron, “I can—”

“No!” You look at him pointedly, trying to communicate through look alone. He kind of gets it? “It’s… Girl stuff.”

Syd squints. “You need me to help you carry a big girl thing?”

“…Are you fuckin’ helping or are you gonna poke holes?”

“What are you actually dragging me out for?”

“Technically I do actually need your help grabbing something, it’s just not a girl thing. And it's also not from my car.”

“Oh?”

You walk out of Carmen’s building with his keys, and gesture out to every apartment buildings treasure trove— The spot everyone throws their furniture when they move out and don’t know what else to do with it.

“Bookshelf!” There is actually one pristine looking bookshelf, a cheap one, definitely just something from IKEA. But it’s better than the fucking floor. “I spotted it on my way in, we’re gonna bring it up for Carm.”

She groans, hating the concept of manual labour, but still walks with you and grabs one end anyways. “Why didn’t you make Carmen carry his own bookshelf?”

“Because you need a fuckin’ pep-talk.” You pick the other end of the bookshelf up. It’s thankfully not that heavy. You walk backwards so you can keep facing Syd.

“…I don’t—” “Yes the fuck you do.”

She kisses her teeth, you frown. “What’s up, Adamu?”

“It’s just fucking annoying— I keep, I keep fucking it up. I keep—Keep—”

“Doing too much.”

She gives you a look, ‘are you serious?’, type look. You continue. “You’re doing too much. You’re not cooking like you.”

“I can cook like Michelin—”

“I never said you couldn’t. Watch your step.” You interrupt, walking over a bump in the sidewalk. “You can do star level shit, Syd. But that’s a grade, not a type.”

She kind of reels, at that. You continue, “You cook great complex dishes, you always have, I’ve tried them. But now, you’re all caught up trying to prove some shit, to Carmen, to—to— Who gives stars? The tires guy?”

She laughs, almost dropping the bookshelf. “Yeah, I’m trying to impress the tires guy.”

“Fuck you.” You snort, stepping up the stairs. “What I’m trying to say is, you should make what you want to eat, not what you think you should eat.”

She nods, you stop on top of the stairs, both taking a second to breathe. “…Thanks.”

You nod back, hands on your knees for a second before standing back up, opening the lobby door. “I’ll always be your cheerleader, Syd.”

“More like coach.”

“Can you let me have one hot girl career, please?”

When you get back up to Carmen’s, he’s already grimacing. You and Syd are split apart by the bookshelf standing between you in the hall. “Fuck is this?”

“It was free and I’ll clean it!” You press your hands together pleading. “C’mon, you can even put your jeans in it!”

“Jeans on a bookshelf?”

You turn to Syd. “Better than the oven.”

“I think he’s doing that to dry them.”

“I think it’s ‘cause he doesn’t own a dresser.”

“It’s both.” Carmen clicks his tongue, single-handedly picking up the bookshelf and carrying inside. Alright, does he need to show off this much? Whatever. It’s definitely not making you feel any type of way at all.

You squint, watching him walk further in his apartment, and then to Syd. You speak at the same time. “He stays doing too much.”

As promised, you wipe down the bookshelf, making sure it’s free of grime and roadside pests. Syd and Carmy work together in the kitchen, with a now functioning oven. You load the shelf up with the books on the floor— Thankfully they’re piled into categories already, so you don’t have to bother him about that.

You’re tempted to clean his living room, but that would probably be rude, right? Don’t want him to take it as you saying he’s a slob. But they are taking a while… Alright, you’ll just throw out trash. You won’t fold blankets or pick up dishes or anything. Just trash! No big! He can’t be mad at you for that.

You pile together the garbage, then sneakily throw it out in the kitchen trash can as fast as you can, before he looks. He’ll think he’s just sleep cleaning, or something. “How’s it goin’ in here?’

Carmen pipes up, eyes focused on the dish as Syd plates it. “Good.” Syd holds the plate in one hand, and silently corrals you with the other to sit at the table. You do. She sets it down the plate before you, handing you a fork and knife.

You look up at her expectantly. She shakes her head. “Eat first, this time.”

She looks serious, so you nod, cutting into the dish. It’s different from the last one. Instead of oxtail, it’s pastry. Or at least, a puff pastry exterior. You’re pretty sure it’s Pillsbury, you remember Carmen buying that, the other day, on your excursion.

Inside it, you believe is the beef oxtail, there’s other things, too. Some sort of sauce, some greens— Oh well, no time to bask in the cross section because Syd looks like she’s about to explode. You take a bite. You nod, chewing.

Syd starts, “Searing the duck caused the bitter taste— So instead of- Of searing the outside, I coated it in the mushroom sauce, the greens— Not pureed, this time, for texture. Your basil, too. There’s a crumble of feta, for a subtle tang. And then wrapped it all together in puff pastry, and baked. It’s sort of like, a varied take on a beef welling—”

“You made a fucking gourmet hot pocket?” You swallow, wheezing. The second you say this, Sydney’s focused face beams, laughing, like she’s just pulled off the most perfect prank of all time.

Carmen was so intrigued and focused on Sydney’s explanation, that you watering it down to hot pocket and being right makes his entire system reboot. He cannot stop smiling, aghast. He's been helping Syd make a hot pocket for the past hour?

“I told you to make what you want and—” wheeze “—you make a fucking hot pocket?!” You double down, laughing with her, she’s trying to defend herself but she can’t stop wheezing in tandem.

“I— I can’t fuckin’ stand you!” You snort, covering your face with your arm. “I hate your ass, oh my God, Syd.”

“Did—” snort “What did you think?” She recovers, slowly but surely.

You shake your head, handing her the fork. “It’s sick, Syd, obviously, it’s fucking perfect… Chef.” You tack on at the end, almost forgetting. “I’m not gonna be able to have an actual hot pocket, ever again. You’ve ruined my life.”

She takes a bite for herself, nodding. She does a small cheer, pumping her fist. “Let’s fucking go.” She points her fork at you— Purely on muscle memory, and you both instantly remember the days of her testing out recipes and you pairing them on first taste. She’d point her fork to you like a microphone. It was a fun game between two nerds.

It’s a reflex response for you, even now. “Barolo. Savory, dry, red. A young one, though. Light body. Could also do an Amarone, if you’re not buried in money.”

She hands the fork off to Carmy to try it, then writes the pairings down, mumbling, amusement still in her voice. “How the fuck do you do that?”

“I honestly don’t know. I think I have some wires crossed.”

“Fire, Chef.” Carmen swallows his bite. “We cannot call it a hot pocket on the menu.”

“Then what’s the point!?”

Leaving Carmen’s place is objectively the most awkward experience— But also the funniest. You offer to wait for Syd and drive her home— You’ll need a second to pack anyways while they make their business plans.

When you do offer, of course, Carmen stutters short, almost asking you again to sleep over or at the very least stay late, but saves it, realizing himself.

Syd accepts the ride offer. You pack up and wait for her to be done. When she is, Carmen offers to carry your things down with you both, in which Syd accuses him of thinking you’re both weaklings— He does not have a defense case for this, he has to let you go. You can tell he wants to kiss you at the door, and you do too. Sadly, you’re equally down bad, but he can’t know that…

You say your goodbyes, Syd helps you load your tools and hotplate in the trunk of your car. Your phone vibrates. Text from Mister New York.

‘Look up I’m on the balcony. 8 floors.’

You look up, sure as shit, he’s out there, cigarette in mouth. Unlit. He waves, you wave back. He texts again, in rapid succession.

‘Thank you’

‘For helping Syd’

‘And the oven and the hot plate and the bookshelf (not necessary)’

‘nbd + I think it’s v necessary’ Does Carmen understand acronyms? You’re risking it, here.

‘and cleaning my trash’ Sonofabitch.

‘ah fuck. I don’t think you’re messy!!! I just wanted to help!!!’

‘I know. You’re you. Be safe.’

Oh goddammit, stupid dry texter, saying something so gah. You jump as Syd taps the roof of your car behind you, getting your attention. Watching from a far distance, Carmen laughs, though you don’t notice it.

“Are we going?”

“Yes! Sorry!” You hurriedly pocket your phone, waving one last time as you get in your car. Syd sits beside you in shotgun, her pot of basil sat safely in her lap. You drive off.

You’re half way down the road, when Syd pipes up again. “So y’all are fucking, correct?”

You almost brake check the guy behind you.

“How do you fuckin’ do that!?”

the opening is dedicated to my dear friend and i who have sent our wordle results to each other everyday for the past like year and a half.

Things of note, one - people usually skip the shit up top-- I made a spotify playlist! Listen if you like, I'm not your dad.

Two, I know this is a self insert right, i know what I set myself up for-- Do you know the hell i am in as a syd x carmy girl writing scenes with both of them and it NOT being them? What have I done, to myself? The only coping mechanism I have is imagining in this universe Syd is a lesbian. And that is helping.

The hot pocket recipe-- Who fucking knows, if that would taste good? I think it would? In theory? I fucked with a dish from Daniel NYC, to make it into a bit. Would it work? ....Beef wellingtons do, I can't see why this can't???? Idk man.

Rosemary water w cloves and ginger does fucking work btw. I am part of the so stressed out i lost my hair brigade. Also basil does grow like a motherfucker.

We're seein' a little bit of that tenseness that comes with being in an 'almost relationship' both of them feel like they've got something they can fuck up now. Poor birds. They'll be okay. Probably.

I'm really excited for the next chapter, I don't wanna give shit away, but it's gonna be,,,,,, different. I haven't seen anyone try this kinda formatting on tumblr before, and I'm excited to see what you think. Between my moving and how complex the choreography of it is gonna be, it's gonna be a much longer minute between this chapter and the next, I fear. But listen, you already knew your ass was gettin' spoiled with a chapter every two days. Hehe.

As always, please come yap to me in the replies/inbox/dms/reblogs. I love to hear thoughts!! It sustains me, baby!!

Next Part

#carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto imagine #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmen x reader #carmy berzatto #carmy x reader #the bear fanfiction #the bear x reader #the bear #the bear fx #carmy the bear #carmen berzatto x female reader

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poisonedjoinery · 10 months ago

Note

Hello beautiful, just wanted to thank for writing stories and giving us reader some of your time. I don't know if you are open for requests but I give it a try. 🤍🙏 I'm in desperate need of a voightx reader fic, angsty hurt and comfort and fluff. Maybe you like my idea or get some inspiration to write something similar.

The reader is working with intelligence and Voight is instantly taken aback by her appearance. She is also attracted to Hank. But they keep their feelings for each other hidden. One night the goes out for drinks and in their tipsy state the reader and Hank make out.... The next day Voight is giving her the silent treatment and is also cold and unfriendly to her, just ignoring the fact they kissed. His unfair behavior goes on for days until she gets him to talk to her, telling her that is was was mistake and she should move on leaves her feeling more hurt and heartbreak than ever. The situation is also taking a physically toll on her, with no appetite and her deathly sick appearance the team instantly worries.

We all know Voight would think he can't give her what she needs or be good enough fir this kind and beautiful girl.

Later on there's a guy hitting on her and Voight pushes her to date the stranger (secretly dying from jealousy, but believing another man can give her all she needs). The date ends catastrophic when she realizes that the guy drugged her, secretly and in panic she calls voight in her dizzy and weakening state and manages to tell him the bar they're currently. Not able to defend herself in her drugged state the guy is able to drag her to his car in the parking lot. She's struggling and fighting for her life, he gets frustrated and beat her up..... Voight comes just in time and keeps the guy from kidnapping her. Nearly conscious and beaten Hank takes her to his house to attend her injuries and to take care of her. Some fluffy end in which he admits his feelings for her... 🤍🙏

Currently I am sucker for caretaker fics, with sick and hurt reader. The intelligence team would be soo cute taking care and at a Hank Voight who hides his feelings and worries for the girl just get me 😍

I am soooo sorry for this long request, but I have this idea in my head since forever and I just needed it to share, in desperate hope a talented writer might create a good story. Don't hesitate to tell me if this sucks.

Lot's of love 🤍

Eat the World Raw

Authors Notes: This is an anon request, of super protective yet jealous Voight. I hope I have done your request justice anon, my apologies for the serious delay on this I have a hideously busy job these days and I find it hard to find writing time.

Summary: Reader is a new starter on the Intelligence Unit, and is instantly taken with Voight. After sharing a drunken moment, Voight pushes reader away. But a panicked phone call changes everything.

Warnings: Mentions of drink spiking and assault. Angst and fluff too. If you feel there should be any other warnings, please do let me know.

Gif by: @shelby-love

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Hey Boss, the new recruit is here." Antonio called out to Voight, as he walked you to your new desk. Dropping your bag to the side, you pulled off your coat.

"Thank you Detective, I appreciate your help." Smiling, Antonio nodded his head,

"Call me Tonio, everyone else does. Come on, we can get you some coffee, you're gonna need it." Nodding, you followed him to the break room. Tonio gave you the rundown of the most recent case the team was working on. A gang was currently running drugs through the city, and the intelligence unit was still unsure of how they were managing to go undetected.

"Wow... that sounds like a lot. You know, I worked a case once where a gang was using the postal service to distribute their drugs. The leaders brother used to work for them, and kept a master mailbox key." Antonio looked surprised,

"Huh... that... could actually be plausible."

"'TONIO!" Whipping his head round, he watched as Voight stalked in, a deep frown on his face.

"I thought you said the new starter was... here..." His voice trailed off as his gaze focused on you. You felt your breath leave you, as though you had been gut punched. You'd been told a lot about Voight, had been told what a hardass he was. Never taking no for an answer, scaring off more teammates and pissing off coworkers more than anyone else in the CPD. What you wasn't prepared for, was for how handsome he was. Yes, he was at least twenty years older than you but you couldn't help yourself, you let your eyes roam over him. From his boots, all the way to the black button down shirt with a black leather jacket over the top.

Clearing his throat, Antonio stepped forward.

"Boss this is (Y/N). I've already brought her up to speed with the case, and she's actually given a decent idea of how the drugs could be being moved around the city." Antonio frowned, looking at Voight, and then to you.

"Boss?"

"Huh... yeah?" Clearing his throat, Voight gave a tight smile and held out his hand.

"Nice to meet you (Y/N), glad you're all caught up." Averting his gaze, he rubbed the back of his neck.

"Uh... Tonio, I need you to run down a lead. It's the one that Ruzek brought us yesterday, take the newbie." Looking back up at you, he gave a small smile and quickly turned around heading back to his office.

"Um... he seems... intense." Your voice sounded shaky. You quickly took a large gulp of coffee, wincing as it scolded your throat.

"Yeah he um... I think he's a bit stressed right now." Tonio frowned, then quickly smiled.

"Okay, let's go." Striding back out, you grabbed your coat and badge. Risking a quick glance behind you, you saw Voight in his office watching you.

--------------------------------------

The case took a nasty turn. The gang that was peddling drugs, seemed to have looped kids into their dealings. Picking the weak and neglected kids whose parents wouldn't give a shit as to their whereabouts. You kept your head down, working hard and not getting underfoot. Learning the ways and methods the team worked, but you could start to feel the pressure of this case sinking into your bones. You felt angry that innocent kids were being used, and made to believe that they were cared for. You rubbed your face, the night had settled around you causing the light from your screen to become harsh to your eyes.

"Hey (Y/N), it's late. Come on, we're all going for a drink." Glancing up, Halstead smiled from his desk as everyone else pulled on their coats, shutting down their computers. huffing out a sigh your stretched.

"Yeah sure... okay sounds good."

You all headed to Molly's, grabbing a booth in the back you sat and powered through a few beers. As the mood lightened, jokes started to fly around along with casual conversation. Soon you found yourself laughing at Ruzek and his ridiculous stories.

"There room for one more?" Glancing behind you, you found Voight staring down at you intently. Swallowing hard, you nodded and shifted your chair over.

"Sure thing Boss." Voight grabbed a chair and sat next to you.

"Thanks, and when we're not on shift, you can call me Hank." Smiling, you took a sip of your drink. Feeling more confident, mainly because of the ten or so beers flowing through you, you leant in closer to Voight.

"Thanks. So... Hank... how has your day been?" Smiling, Hank watched you for a moment, then lent in further.

"Well it has been busy... but I think we are making good progress, and the drinks are certainly helping right now." With that he took a large gulp of bourbon, causing a colour to rise in his cheeks.

The night continued, with the team drinking and laughing. The more you drank, you found yourself relaxing into your seat which incidentally lead to you leaning further into Hank. You enjoyed the warmth that came from him, the smell of his cologne, the deep laugh that vibrated out of his chest. You tried not to squirm as you felt yourself becoming flushed with excitement.

"Okay guys... I need to get to bed. I'd like it to be at least a month before I drunkenly embarrass myself. " The others laughed and jeered, trying to persuade you to stay as you pulled on your coat.

"I'm gonna head off too, (Y/N) I'll walk you out." Waving bye to everyone, you headed to the door, your mind racing at the thought of Hank being so close behind you. Rummaging in your bag you found your phone, pulling up a taxi app.

"How you getting home?" Looking up, you smiled and showed him your phone.

"I was going to get a cab."

"Ah, don't worry about that I'll give you a ride. Come on."

"Oh you don't have to..."

"I know I don't have to, but I want to. It's late and I can at least know you're safe." Dropping your phone back into your bag, you pulled your jacket closer around you.

"Then lead the way Boss." Smirking at him, as he raised an eyebrow, he lead you across the street to his truck. Climbing in, you sank into a soft leather chair. The air was heavy with Hanks smell, and coffee.

"So... where do you live?" Shutting the door behind him, Hank started the truck and turned on the heater. Giving him your address, you pulled your seatbelt on. The drive was quiet, but not uncomfortable. Hank maneuvered the truck smoothly through the light city traffic, occasionally asking you questions about your previous jobs. Before you knew it, you were outside your house. Stopping the truck, he placed his arm behind your chair, quietly watching you.

"Thank you, Voight. I appreciate the lift."

"You're welcome sweethear'." You felt a heat creep over your face at the endearment. You dropped your gaze not wanting him to see.

"Well um... goodnight. I..." Before you could finish your sentence, Hank had tilted your face up, his hand remaining under your jaw.

"Just... a taste." You blinked and felt as his lips pressed against yours. Moaning quietly, you reached your hand up grazing the back of his neck. Pulling him in closer to you. You're not sure at what point it happened, but you ended up pulled into Hanks lap, slowly kissing him for what felt like hours. Humming quietly, he pressed his head against yours.

"I um... I should probably go. I need to be fresh for tomorrow... I don't want my boss to get pissed at me." Smiling, Hank let you shift out of his lap and into the passenger seat again.

"I'll see you tomorrow."

"Bright and early boss." Climbing out you headed into your house, Hank remaining outside until you had locked your front door. Hank rubbed his face and pulled his truck out onto the main road. What the fuck had he done.

-------------------------------------------

The next morning Hank got to the office bright and early. He didn't want to be disturbed by anyone. This case was starting to piss him off, and he didn't want to fuck around chasing any more dead beat leads. He noticed as the rest of the team trickled in, all of them having a haggard look that suggested they'd all drunk a bit too much last night. He noticed how you watched him through the blinds of his office, like you was waiting for him to call you in for a chat. He probably should talk to you, but he just couldn't do it right now. He was too pissed at himself to even consider having a civilised conversation.

He made sure he kept busy for the rest of the day, he didn't want to speak to anyone unless needed. He chased down lead after lead until he managed to find one that was promising. After ten hours, and a painful conversation with a local informant, Voight managed to track the ring leader down and haul him and his gang into lockup. He left Antonio and Burgess shutting down the lab, and bagging up evidence.

"(Y/N), with me." nodding quickly, you followed Voight out into the stations car park.

"I'm sorry about last night, I shouldn't have... I shouldn't have kissed you."

"I didn't mind Hank, I actually enjoyed..."

"No... it won't be happening again. I am too old for you, and I won't be able to give you anything that you want. So it's best to just... forget about it okay." It killed him to see the pain and hurt in your eyes.

"Hank I..."

"It was a mistake (Y/N), okay?" He didn't meant to raise his voice, but he saw the anger building in you.

"Not a problem Boss, I've already forgotten." Watching you march back into the building, he groaned inwardly, kicking himself for his tactless approach.

For the next few weeks, Voight watched as you worked alongside the team, effortlessly working leads and solving case after case. He couldn't stand how pale you had become, how when everyone else had lunch you seemed to find a reason not to eat with them.

"(Y/N), eat something will you. I don't want you passing out on shift." Whipping your head round, you glared at Voight as he stalked past you. Grinding your teeth, you forced yourself to answer.

"Sir." Grabbing your coat, you nodded to 'Tonio.

"I'm heading out for some food, want anything?" 'Tonio shook his head,

"Na I'm good, thanks (Y/N)." Nodding, you headed out.

You didn't realise how hungry you were until you were half way through a footlong sub from the local deli. Your stomach ached in protest and delight at the amount of food you were consuming. You couldn't help but think about how Voight had kissed you that night, it had felt glorious. You hadn't dated anyone for a few years, hadn't really had the time. You'd enjoyed your job too much. But when Voight had kissed you, you felt a new rush, a new thrill. Then the fucker had ditched you.

"Asshole." Throwing your rubbish in the bin, you headed back into the office. Taking the stairs two at a time, you wasn't focused on the people around you and you slammed into someone.

"Shit... I'm sorry I wasn't watching." Glancing up you found a guy in front of you smiling.

"(Y/N)! Christ I haven't seen you in years." Focusing on the face attached to the voice, you saw it was Jacob. A guy you had gone through the academy with. Huffing out a breath, you gave a wane smile.

"Hey, Jacob. How you doing?" Nodding, he grinned, stepping closer to you.

"Yeah I'm good thanks, I'm working over with homicide now."

"Sweet." You shifted your gaze, looking up to where you wanted to go. He glanced behind you, eyes going wide.

"Are you... you up in Intelligence?"

"uh-huh."

"Holy shit that is amazing, I've heard Voight is a right hardass... is that true?"

"I can be when pushed." Jacobs eyes widened as he spun round.

"Um... sorry Sir, I didn't mean anything by it." Smirking Voight clapped him on the shoulder,

"Don't sweat it. (Y/N), when you're ready we've got a lead to run down." Turning, Voight headed up the stairs to the rest of the team.

"I should head up." Moving to follow Voight, Jacob caught your arm.

"Hey do you fancy grabbing a drink tonight, after work?" Glancing up the stairs you saw Voight had slowed down, probably trying to over hear your conversation.

"Um... yeah I'll uh... I'll let you know. Big case, not sure what time I'll be finished."

"Yeah... yeah okay sounds good." Heading up the stairs, you caught Voights eye.

"Hey... you dating that guy?" Frowning, you glanced up at him.

"I... no I went through the academy with him. He just asked if I wanted to meet for a drink."

"Hmm... you should go. You're a young woman, you should get out from behind the desk." Watching him closely, you leaned in looking for any hint of a joke.

"You... okay sure, why not." Turning on your heel you marched into the office heading straight to your desk to phone Jacob. If Voight insisted you go, then you'll go. If only you'd turned round, you'd have seen the fury burning in his eyes.

-------------------------------------------

Checking your reflection, you smiled. You'd picked your best emerald green dress, it dipped low at the front and hugged at your hips just right. You felt good for the first time in a while.

"Forget Voight." Grabbing your coat and bag, you headed out the door.

You found Jacob at the bar sipping on a beer, spotting you he grinned.

"Wow... you look amazing!" Grinning, you pulled your coat off and placed it over the bar stool.

"Thank you, you scrub up well yourself." Gesturing to the bartender, you ordered a red wine.

"Cheers." Taking a big sip you smiled. You looked around the bar, seeing all the different people chatting and drinking. You felt yourself relax a bit into your seat.

"So... how's your case going?" Looking up, you were stalled for moment.

"Uh... yeah it's going okay. It's a tough case but we're getting there." You didn't overly want to chat about work, as it reminded you of Voight. Jacob seemed to get the hint as you didn't expand any further on the subject. You sat quietly for a moment, just sipping on your drink. After a while, you both seemed to just relax into a conversation, reliving the academy days minutes passing into hours.

"You feeling okay?" Jacobs voice seemed to pull you out of a blurred moment that you didn't remember going into.

"Hmm? oh... yeah I'm fine, I'm just... gonna head to the bathroom okay?" Smiling, he nodded.

"Okay, well uh... shall we head out after this? Maybe find somewhere to get food?" Standing up, you nodded holding onto your chair for dear life.

"Yeah that's fine." Grabbing your bag, you headed to the bathroom, feeling your legs wobble and your head start to swirl. Pulling in a deep breath, you focused on the toilet door, not wanting to look more drunk than you were.

Pushing open the door, you leant on the sink and stared at your reflection. Your pupils looked blown, but you couldn't tell. You couldn't focus. You tried to remember how many drinks you'd had, tried to remember anything but it was all becoming a hazy dream.

"Shit.." Stumbling into a toilet stall, you locked the door behind you and rummaged in your bag pulling out your phone. You truly hoped you'd punched in the right number.

"(Y/N)?" Hanks voice cut through the phone, relief flooded through you.

"Han..k... I need... come help... been drugged."

"Where are you!" You felt yourself slowly drifting off.

"I... I'm ... bar...South side... bird...bird... Spar..." Your voice drifted off,

"Bird... the Sparrow... you at the Sparrow!"

"Yea... bathro." Your world went black.

Voight drove like a madman, sirens blaring not caring who he cut off in the process. Hold on, please god hold on. The streets were a blur as they flashed past him in a haze of lights and noise. Pulling into the car park, Voight spotted a guy hauling a woman to his car. Stepping out, he recognised it as Jacob. Picking up his pace, he started towards him catching your voice as he got closer.

"No... get off you sick fuck."

"Stop struggling... you know you're going to love it." Hank watched as you swung at him catching him in the mouth, but it didn't stop there. Jacob slapped you, and punched you in the stomach. Hank was at his back within seconds. Grabbing him by the hair, he slammed his face into the side of the car, continuing to punch him as he slid to the ground. He wouldn't have stopped, could have killed him had it not been for your voice calling to him.

"Hank..." Looking behind him, he saw you stirring on the floor blood pouring from your mouth.

"Shit... (Y/N), I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." Scooping you up, he carried you to his car putting you in the passenger seat. Peeling out of the car park, he sped away from the bar. Glancing over at you he took your hand,

"Hey, (Y/N) stay awake alright. We're nearly there." You let your head lull to the side, the warm air from the heater and the blow to the head making you sleepy.

"Where's there?" you murmured out.

"Home."

-------------------------------------------

Waking up, your head felt heavy, your vision blurred. Rubbing a hand over your face, you realised you no longer had your dress on but a soft t-shirt with the letter CPD stamped on the chest. Your body ached, and yet you felt content in the soft confines of the duvet.

"Hmm... s'good."

"(Y/N)?" Glancing to the side, you found Voight sitting in a chair next to your bed.

"Hey, um... what am I doing here?" Reaching out, Voight took your hand and held onto it gently.

"You rang me last night, you went out for a drink with the Jacob guy and ah... he um... he spiked your drink." Frowning, you tried to remember but all you could think of was the toilet stall you had sat in.

"I got there just as he was dragging into his car, but you resisted and uh.. he hit you a few times."

"I um... christ I don't remember much I'm sorry Boss. Guess that's why my head hurts hmm?"

"What! No, don't be sorry, that scumbag is the one who should be sorry not you! I'm... I'm just glad I was able to get you out before... well I'm glad I got to you." Smiling you squeezed his hand with yours,

"Thanks Boss."

"'Tonio checked into your boy, and he's not a cop, well not any more at least. He didn't make it passed being a beat cop, he assaulted two women so he got fired." You felt your stomach churn.

"Well... maybe next time I should get you guys to run a background check on whoever I plan on going for a drink with hmm?" Dropping your head back into the pillow you winced as pain flared through your eyes. Looking around the room, you saw that it was rather warm and, oddly enough, cosy.

"We won't need to do that." Voight sounded a little nervous, something you had never thought he could be. Tilting your head, you gazed at him intently,

"And why's that hmm?"

"Because I'm not a creep who preys on women, so you'll be safe."

"Wha..?" Sighing, he shifted out of his chair to sit on the edge of the bed, running his other hand over your hair. It only occured to you now that this was Hanks house, Hanks bedroom, Hanks shirt that you were wearing.

"I shouldn't have encouraged you to go on a date with that guy. What I should have done, was date you myself. But instead I... I got nervous. Nervous that you'd see I wasn't anything but an old, beat up cop too stuck in his ways to make you happy in the ways that matter." Sitting yourself up, you leaned into Voight and kissed him. You wasn't sure how long it lasted, or when he had gently pushed you back leaning into you. Running your hands up his arms, you traced your fingers over his broad back. Breaking away, you pressed your head against his,

"You know, you never even asked what makes me happy. If you'd had just asked, I think we would have saved a lot of time... and spiked drinks." Smirking at him, he shook his head.

"Yeah I know, I'm a dumbass." Laughing at him, you brushed your hand over his jaw.

"I'll let you off, on one condition." Voight raised an eyebrow, and hummed quietly.

" You um... take these jeans off and stay in bed with me for the day hmm?"

"Yes Ma'am, you don't have to ask me twice." Standing he slowly unbuckled his belt, and unbuttoned the jeans. You felt a heat build in your face and stomach. This was going to be... an interesting day.

#hank voight x reader #hank voight #chicago pd #antonio dawson #voight x reader #hank voight fanfic #hank voight fan fiction #chicago pd fanfic #chicago pd fic #voight fanfic #fanfiction #one chicago #anon ask #anon request #anon answered

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spidermans-l-o-v-e-r · 6 months ago

Text

Rainy days

Will I edit this now that I’m posting it here? NOPE

Pairing: Steve x Bucky x Reader

Word Count: Hmmm I don't even remember when I wrote this

Notes: Man we aint gon talk about when I'm posting this

Today was a shit day. Brad from accounting spilled his coffee on your brand new white shirt, your boss called you in to tell you the deadline had been moved up a week and a half, there was no toilet paper in the bathroom and to top it off you’d grabbed the wrong lunch that morning and ended up with a leftover container of plain spaghetti noodles instead of your onigiri you’d make last night.

“This day literally could not get worse. I truly don’t think it could like what could actually happen” You grumbled as you got into your car, slamming the door shut. You pushed the break and hit the button.

Nothing.

You pushed the break and the button again.

Nothing.

Famous last words as they say.

“Are you shitting me!?!?” You screamed at the top of your lungs, you kicked your feet and slammed your hands into the steering wheel

“What did I do! What did I possibly do to deserve any of this!” You screamed to no one as you sobbed in your car. Was it a bit dramatic? Yes. Did the sky decide to just open the flood gates at that exact moment? Also Yes.

You stared blankly at the rain, watching it stream down the windows. It was heavy and unforgiving as thunder cracked above you, you looked down at the heels on your feet, your brand new light pink ones. The weatherman said it was supposed to be a sunny fall day. It was supposed to nice and cool and dry. Comfortable even.

You laid your head on the steering wheel and just sat there, listening to the rain fall. If you weren’t so broken it would have been peaceful. You tried the button one more time and it still wouldn’t come on.

You reached blindly for your phone and grabbed it, punching the favorites button and holding it up to your ear.

“Hey Doll, are you on your way home yet?”

You sniffled and shook your head, not that Bucky could see you.

His tone changed quickly to worry “Y/N? Where are you?” You heard his voice a little further away, he was already searching for your location.

“You’re still at work? You got off 20 minutes ago is everything okay?” You can hear him moving around knowing he’s already ready to head out of the door and take out anyone he needs to.

“Can you guys please come pick me up.” Your voice is wobbly and small “My car broke down in the parking lot. I’m okay I’m safe I just need you to come get me.”

“We’re already in the car, we’ll be there in…what seven? Eight minutes?”

You hear Steve’s voice “Like seven”

“Yeah seven minutes okay? Keep the doors locked and stay alert”

You smirked a bit. Your workplace was 15 minutes from the house. 22 ish if the lights were in a mood. “I promise I will, see you soon.”

Steve and Bucky arrived in exactly seven minutes. You heard the tail end of Steve’s conversation as they approached the car, umbrella’s in hand. “Okay we’ll wait… thanks for the lights” Tony was a sweetheart sometimes. Bucky unlocked the doors and opened your side up, he leaned against it as he held an umbrella.

“Your escorts have arrived” he smiles a bit at you. Steve is behind him frowning, you know you look awful right now your makeup ruined your shirt ruined. But it’s not really meaning much now that they’re here. Bucky unbuckles your seatbelt for you and holds open his arms.

“C’mere doll..” his voice is soft as he hugs you to his chest, Steve comes around and squishes you between the two of them.

“You’re okay baby girl we’re here now”

You cry into Bucky’s chest as they hold you, Steve pulls you away and guides you to their car, opening the door for you. Tony had finally taken away Steve’s tiny ass car privileges. He bought him a truck fit for two super soldiers and created an entire course for Steve to practice driving with it. You remember relaxing with Pepper in lawn chairs while sipping on drinks as Tony had a whole aneurysm teaching him to drive. Bucky sat in the tailgate occasionally breaking up fights but sipping on his own drink as well.

Steve got in the truck after you, pulling you into his lap and holding you tightly to his chest, you melted into his ridiculously comfy chest, his large pecks plush and comforting. He chuckled and stroked your hair, kissing your head.

“You warm enough? Do we need to turn on the heat?”

“Trust me I do not need the heat with you furnaces in here”

Bucky started up the truck and turned on his music, something soft, something he’d play often when you couldn’t sleep. You never knew what it was but it was nice, something from another time.

“Tony should be here any minute now and then we can leave” Steve says as he puts his legs up, cradling you against his body. You lay there for a bit, still sniffling against Steve’s chest. He chuckles as he keeps stroking your hair

“Come on beautiful, it’ll be okay.”

It’s quiet for a bit as you all wait, Bucky and Steve making light conversation and you chiming in a couple times but not really saying much. They’re a little worried, they know it was just a bad day but they can’t help it.

Tony arrives 15 minutes later all ready to take your car away and work it over and see what happened. Bucky gets out and handles everything for you. The car gets loaded onto a truck and taken away to his workshop. Tony reassures you from his own car that he’ll send a car for you first thing in the morning and that you’ve been called out of work for the next week. You look out of the window and smile

“Tony thanks really but I can’t be out that long I have a project to work on and-“

Tony puts his hand up “Don’t worry I’ll have someone else on that tomorrow. I bought the company! You just rest up kid!”

Your mouth drops and before you can even protest he speeds away and Steve yanks you back down into his lap. Bucky starts up the truck and starts on his way, driving the three of you back to your shared apartment.

Once back home Bucky starts a hot shower for you and Steve goes into the kitchen immediately. He says he’s got a surprise for you for dinner and to go take a nice long shower. Bucky surprisingly keeps his hands to himself, making sure you’re nice and clean and taken care of, giving you soft kisses and little caresses.

“I know what’ll make you feel better” Bucky comes up behind you as you’re putting your hair serum in, he kisses your bare shoulders softly and puts his arms around you, watching you comb your fingers through your hair.

“What’s that?” You ask as you look at him in the mirror. He pulls open one of the drawers in front of you and takes a bottle of lube out. Your eyes go wide as he leads you into the bedroom, letting your towel drop.

“I know you’re tired and hungry so while Steve is cooking for you let’s just cuddle okay?” He pushes you back on the bed carefully

“Why do we need that?” You point at the bottle “for cuddling”

“Because it’s your favorite kind of cuddling.” He jokes as he takes off his boxers he’d put on when he went to see if Steve needed help, you bite your lip as you look at him, trying to keep your eyes on his. He smirks as he pours lube into his hand, coating his cock in it as he rubs it slowly. You drool a bit as he gets nice and hard, his cock glistening in the light. You squeeze your thighs together and he leans down, giving you a kiss as he eases you onto your back. He pours more lube onto his fingers and spreads your lips, rubbing it up and down teasing you before carefully sinking his fingers in, they go in easily and your hips buck. He chuckles as you fuck your self on his fingers, moaning softly as you tighten that coil in your belly, winding it up tighter and tighter. His thumb rubs your clit as he pumps his fingers in and out and you moan louder, your hips losing control as you cum over his fingers, he keeps pumping you through your orgasm, grinning wickedly as he watches the way your body reacts to his fingers

“Good girl, cum for me so I can make sure you’re wet enough.” He praises as you lay there, your body jello, your legs trembling. He pulls you up on the bed so your head is on the pillows. He strokes himself a few more times and gets on the bed with you, kissing your hair. He wipes his hands on a napkin from the bed and throws it into the trash can

“Nice shot” you giggle and he smiles, adjusting your body again so you’re facing him. He grabs your leg, lifting it up and positions himself between your legs, his head teasing your entrance as he pushes into you. You let out a long, low moan as he fills you to the hilt. He puts your leg back down and you adjust yourself a bit, your head nuzzled into his neck.

“Thanks Doll” he whispers in your ear as he pulls a blanket over the two of you and wraps his arms around you. You’re practically purring as he rubs your back while kissing your head. “We can stay just like this. You take a nap, you deserve it.

“You want to stay l-like this?” You blush as your cunt squeezes around his cock. He nods as he groans softly, adjusting himself again.

“You need a nap sugar and I know this always makes you feel better… let me do this for you”

“Oh and this has nothing to do with how it makes you feel?” You smirk as you snuggle into him again, closing your eyes.

“I didn’t say it didn’t make me feel amazing” he chuckles, pushing his long hair back. “Do you want to talk about it?”

You sigh “what’s there to talk about? Today was shit. I can’t believe Brad wasn’t looking where he was going he never looks where he’s going! A-and he ruined that new shirt you and Steve got me I can’t stand that asshole! I have absolutely no idea what the hell is wrong with my car-“

“Tony’s handling that” He interrupts and you smile

“Do I need to pick the color?”

“Yes and if you’d like a specific model let him know.” He chuckles as you roll your eyes, adjusting again. You move your hips a little, rolling them on his cock and he looks at you, raising his eyebrow

“He doesn’t have to do that… I can just get it fixed.” You ignore the look he’s giving you and keep gently rolling your hips.

“It’s not often an Avenger gets a happy ending Y/N… let alone two. Let him take care of you. You know how much he loves you”

You run your fingers through his fluffy hair and smile “Maybe we can invite him and Pepper over sometime for dinner”

Bucky nods, kissing your neck gently. “Yeah I think he’d like that..” He moans in your ear as you keep moving your hips on his cock, it’s not enough to make him cum but it’s enough to keep him nice and hard inside you. You feel him, warm and thick, filling up your insides. You can feel the way your tight hole stretches around him, his balls pressed against you he’s so deep. They’re so full and firm against you, you can’t help but dream about them exploding inside you, breeding your tight cunt like he loves to do.

“Are you feeling any better?” Bucky asks, his voice husky as you reach down to rub his balls between your legs. Your breath hitches as you feel them

“Y-yeah I think I am”

You're just starting to massage his balls when there’s a knock at the door. Steve stands in the doorway, in just an apron, and your mouth drops wide open.

“S-Steve?” Your voice cuts out

“I thought it would cheer you up!” He grins widely as he brings a tray into the bedroom. Bucky pulls out sighing loudly and you whine as you sit up without him. He sits up and picks your waist up, using the metal arm, it sends a chill through your hot body and sits you right back down on his cock. You cry out and he chuckles, holding your hips in place.

“I hope you’re hungry, I made lasagna” he sets the tray in front of you and Bucky but neither of you can concentrate on anything but him. God that man’s ass was something else. You can practically feel Bucky throbbing inside you at the sight of him, you’re both drooling over him.

“I think I’m hungry for something else” You mumble and Bucky nods against your shoulder

“Definitely hungry for something else”

#steve x bucky x reader #bucky barnes #rhys writes #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x reader #bucky x reader #steve rogers #marvel mcu #mcu fandom #mcu fanfiction #mcu fic #smut #mcu smut #words by rhys

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mrsparrasblog · 8 months ago

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STRIPCLUB GHOST

I think he wouldn't go to a Stripclub in the Canon but my brain was working again lel. You can find more on my A03: Mrsparras

Moving to England to study abroad has always been your biggest dream since you were a child, so when you graduated and were old enough, you did it. You blessed Erasmus that you wouldn't have so much debt—well, at least you thought so, but in the end, you couldn't make ends meet.

So you decided to search for a job that you could do while studying that also fit with your busy schedule, so you started to work in a strip club in Soho under the promise that you would only be a waitress and nothing more.

You stood behind the bar counter wearing the skimpiest clothes you had and prepared drinks, and to your surprise, it was fun. Even watching the stripper from far away gave you straight-up BI panic; they were also beautiful and mature.

Surprisingly, you even got a lot of tips despite not dancing half-naked around the pole. The customers all called you Angel; being the youngest and most unattainable had its perks.

One day there was a new customer who wore a Ghost mask and was a brick house of a man. He was nice to you despite looking scary.

"Come on, Bunny, tell me why you are doing this," he asked while you served him a glass of his favorite Bourbon. He was nice, always left you a good tip, and was generous. So you didn't feel the urge to lie to him; why should you?

"I need to pay bills; food and rent are expensive in Manchester."

"I see," he said, leaving this time a 60-pound tip on his 18-pound Bourbon.

"Sir, it's too much."

"It isn't Bunny; buy yourself something nice with it, okay?"

And you did buy yourself a proper meal after a long time of only eating pasta with pesto, and it was delicious.

The next day, when you went to work, you got an offer from your boss: 500 pounds for a private striptease, 120 pounds more if it turns into a lapdance. You never wanted to do this; you couldn't dance, and you were insecure about your body. But it was easy money, and you could always bottom out if it was too much for you.

"The man left this costume for you behind." Your bodyguard gave you a bunny costume with bunny ears, white soft lingerie, and a bunny tail. Oh god, what a freak. Problem No. 2: It was at least 2 sizes too small, making your tits almost fall out.

You were curious to find out who specifically requested you, and when you walked into the private room, you saw Ghost. You were smiling; you knew you could trust him, and you would lie if you said you didn't develop a crush on him the last few weeks when he slowly became your regular.

"Ghost"

"Bunny"

"So, um, do you want me to dance?"

"I want you to be comfortable, but yes, I would love watching you dance."

So you began to dance awkwardly at first, but then you enjoyed it, dancing around provocatively, shaking your ass a bit in his reaction, and he enjoyed it. The half-hour stopped, and you were a bit sad.

"It was fun, Ghost."

"It was Bunny."

You thought it would be the last time you did this, but when your bodyguard told you Ghost requested you for the rest of the week, every day your vagina made this weird butterfly-clenching thing. You would dance for him every day.

So you began to dance with him every day, even being bolder and giving him a lap dance. You touched his strong abs while circling your hips around him. You were afraid that the fabric wasn't thick enough to hide your throbbing cunt.

"Love, please don't move," he whimpered.

You looked at him in confusion and asked, "Did I do something wrong?"

"Bunny, no, just don't move."

You felt his massive erection under you, and you grinded against him again. "Do you mean because of this?"

"Stop it. I don't want to use your poverty for my gain."

"Did you call me a prostitute?" You asked him, feeling completely furious, and you would have fucked him even despite the money.

"No Bunny I'm just saying you're too good for me, okay? Im a dirty man; men like me aren't made for little sweet girls like you," he said before leaving you in utter confusion, horny, and alone.

You didn't think he would return the next day, but he did, and you refused his cash this time before going to the private suite with him.

"Why do you refuse my money? You need it, and I have enough of it."

"I don't want you to see me as a prostitute."

"I could never see you as less than an angel."

This time you didn't strip for him; you just sat on his lap and talked. He told you that he works as a police officer, even though you thought this was a lie, and you told him all about your native country, how you moved here, and how you loved it.

"All I'm saying is I don't think sex is good enough to pay for it," you claimed while laughing. The erection pressing against your thighs was something you already got used to.

"Then you were with the wrong men before Bunny; sex is great."

"It's okay"

He laughed, "You never had an orgasm before ?" his fingers trailed down on the thin fabric of your pants.

You blushed immediately and shook your head, grinding against his fingers for the smallest friction.

"That explains why you are so desperate, Bunny," he chuckled and left.

The next day, one day before your day off, you went to work again, instinctively walking to the private room where he already sat, this time shirtless. He was the picture of a perfect man with strong abs, and a blonde happy trail down to his thick erection that was only covered by his briefs.

"Sit down and give me a lapdance, please, Bunny."

You sat down on him, but this time he grinded against you, not you against him. You would love that sudden change, but you were a bit mad that he left you yesterday after calling you desperate.

"Tell me you want me, and I'm all yours."

"I don't want you," you lied to him.

"I think you want this, bunny. Don't lie to yourself." He leans in close, his hot breath tickling your ear. "I can see it in your eyes. You want me to fuck you hard and make you scream."

"No"

"Yes, you do," he insists, pulling down your costume to expose your bare ass. His hand traces the crack in your ass before dipping between your cheeks, pressing against your entrance. "Admit it, bunny. You want me inside you."

"No, I don't want you," but your body betrayed your stubborn act. You were soaking wet and a moaning mess for him. He was so hot and big, and all you wanted was to let him take care of you. Let him show you what a real man is.

"Lie to me again, and I'll make sure you regret it." His fingers begin to probe, seeking entry into your tight little hole. "Tell me, bunny. Have you ever been taken like this before? Fucked raw by a real man." He laughed at you, his voice sounding mean and dominant to his usual nice behavior. Maybe he had a stressful day, but did you care about what made you so lucky today?

"Good," he growls, finally pushing past your resistance and forcing his middle finger inside you. "Because I'm going to make sure you scream for me." His other hand moves up to grope one of your breasts through the costume, pinching the nipple hard.

"Oh fuck, Ghost."

"That's it, bunny. Let me hear you," he demands, adding a second finger to stretch you wider. His thumb rubs over your hardened nipple as his fingers thrust deeper, searching for that sweet spot inside you. "You like that?"

"No," you moaned.

"Lie to me again, and I'll gag you," he warns, pulling his fingers free with a wet pop. "Now tell me the truth." He grabs your chin, forcing you to look him in the eyes. "Do you want my cock inside you?"

You were thinking of lying again only so that he could gag you, but you needed him right now more than you needed anything in your life before. "Yes"

"Good girl," he praises, lowering his mouth to capture one of your nipples in a hot, sucking kiss. His other hand slides down between your legs, rubbing against your pleading clit.

"You've never felt anything like this, bunny?" He purrs against your skin, "You just want me to shove my cock inside you and claim you as mine, don't you?" He already knew the answer, and he was determined to give you your real first orgasm.

"I never felt like this before, Ghost."

"That's right," he agrees, standing up and pushing your legs apart. His hot breath is fanning across your wet folds as he stares down at his prize. "You're going to feel even better when I'm buried balls deep inside you."

Your pussy clenched and throbbed, and now he saw the evidence of your lust.

"You see, bunny," he says with a chuckle, "your body knows what it wants." His thick cock is at your entrance now, slowly pushing inside. The head teased the tight ring of muscles before finally breaking through with a small groan from both of them.

"Oh god, it's too big." It was bigger than the dildo that you had at home, but you liked the burn and to be filled.

"That's because you've never had a real man inside you before," he growls, starting to thrust deeper. Each movement hits your sweet spot and makes your insides clench around him. "You like that, don't you? Feeling my cock stretching you out?"

"Ghost, im going to cum," you whined as he started to stroke your hard nub while he fucked you restlessly.

"Good," he says, picking up the pace. His hips slam against yours as he takes you hard and fast. The chair creaked under their combined weight. "You're mine now, bunny," he pants out between moans. "Say it."

"Im yours, Ghost," you moaned. He continued the abuse on your pleading clit, leaving soft hits on it before starting to circle it again how you liked it. He read you like a novel that needs to be analyzed. He tried to interpret every movement of yours and intesed his flicks against your clit until you finally came, screaming and crying. Your head fell against his neck, and you bit it like a feral animal. Fuck you thought what has gotten into you.

"There's my good girl," he murmurs, he leaned down to kiss you roughly. His free hand squeezes one of your breasts as his cock continues to pound into you. "This is how a real man fucks." Simon picks up the pace even more, grinding against you as his hips smack against your perfect ass.

The head of his cock hits that sweet spot inside you, again and again, sending waves of pleasure through your body. "Fuck,"

"Ghost, please." You started to whimper, being completely cock drunk.

"Please, what, bunny?" he asks between moans. His thrusts become even more erratic as he loses control. "Do you want me to cum inside you?" he asked while his eyes turned darker at the thought of claiming you as his, his little innocent bunny.

"Yes"

"Yes, bunny?" he asks teasingly. His free hand left your breast to snake down between your legs, teasing at your clit. His cock is throbbing inside you as he takes you harder than ever before.

"Yes, yes, please." You started to beg, and you felt a bit pathetic.

"Yes, what, bunny?" he asks, his voice rough with desire.

"Cum inside of me, Ghost."

"You want me to cum inside you, bunny?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper. His thrusts become even more erratic as he nears his climax. "Tell me how much you want it."

"So much, Ghost," you whined.

"Tell me you're mine," he demands, his voice laced with need. His cock is throbbing inside you as he reaches his peak, filling you with his hot cum. "Say it, bunny." You were in orgasmic bliss, clenching around him as he erupted inside of your willing womb. You took everything of his big cock and cum so eagerly, almost greedy, afraid someone would steal it from you. I'm yours."

"Tomorrow at 8 p.m., I will pick you up; we are getting dinner."

You looked at him confused, and he only chuckled, "Did you think I fucked my perfect girl and let you leave then? No, we are going out; well, only if you want to go on a date with this old perverted dog."

"It depends on whether you are ugly behind the mask."

"Quite the opposite, love."

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littleplantfreak · 4 months ago

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Chatterbox Pt. 1 - SFW

>Their calling/texting habits, especially with a partner that loves to be on the phone for hours (part two with the others dropping tomorrow I promise!!)

Hayato Suo - Phone? What phone? Just kidding. He texts a regular amount, but if you wanna be on the phone for a while, his limit is usually an hour unless you're both planning a date or something. He'd prefer to be with you in person otherwise. Invite him over~ He'll bring snacks and drinks for you.

Sakura Haruka- Better on calls than he is on texts for sure. Takes a long time to figure out what to talk about when you two do have calls. Likes to keep them half an hour or shorter regularly. If it's a special occasion or you're on vacation, he doesn't mind if the call goes longer, wanting to hear your voice even if it's only been a day since you left. Accidentally calls you on facetime a lot instead of like...a regular call. So you just see his ear or neck, or it's just completely dark.

Nirei Akihiko - Can talk for hours without fail. He does have an exact bed time that he sticks to though, so while he wants to keep talking, he's about 2 minutes from passing out on the floor. Has call parties that are so chaotic but insanely fun that everyone ends up cracking up during. Added Sakura to one of your calls before, but then Sakura thought you were WITH Nirei. "Sakura-san we're all on different phones." "But you both sound like you're in the same room???"

Kiryu Mitsuki - Calls you when he's gaming and you both just stay on the phone as a way of hanging out. Sometimes forgets you're on the phone and starts humming one of the osts and it sounds sooo nice. He'd sleep with the call still going if it wouldn't completely drain his phone battery. Depends on the day, but when he hasn't seen you in a bit, he's like "Just come over please."

Tsugeura Taiga - Loves calls too. Will call you when he's working out to show you that he hit his new goal. "Babe check out my form, let me know if you think my posture's off" And your just on facetime while he's in his local gym? He asks the people he's with if it's alright first though. Loves chatting or listening equally, so if you just want to hear his voice? He's got plenty to say.

Sugishita Kyotaro - He'll listen if you wanna chat as long as you want, he just doesn't say much. If the call goes on longer than 2 hours he might end up falling asleep. He has to be extra careful with his phone because he's prone to breaking it. It's got the strongest screen protector and case known to man. Actually waterproof at this point probably. Likes to send one set of character emojis when texting and just that set. He's got a special ringtone for you set, and answers it on the first ring every time.

Hiragi Toma - He's fine with calling or texting, but doesn't wanna be on the phone forever. If you have something to say, that's one thing, but if you're gonna talk his ear off, he's also one to just want you to come see him. Actually takes cute candids (unlike Ume who is a menace with them) and has one as your contact pic. Sometimes he looks at it and his stomach feels just a bit better during an attack.

Umemiya Hajime - GOSSIP GIRL FR! He's on the phone with you for hours telling you the juiciest secrets he's found out during the day. If you call him up at 3am cause you had the wildest dream? He's answering and talking about it with you until you're ready to fall back asleep. Has the UGLIEST candid of you you've ever seen and it's your contact pic smh. He has other ACTUALLY cute pictures of you on his phone but he's adamant that you look beautiful in all of them. If he's busy doing something, he'll pass his phone around to either his friends or Kotoha and the kids when he's home to keep you company. Kinda like those "Hey can you watch my boss for me for a second?" Tiktoks?

#Wind breaker #Wind breaker headcanons #Wind breaker x reader #I'm not tagging everyone sorry im tiiiiired #This is me btw im the chatterbox #i love being on the phone for hours its my love language. I actually suck at texting and shit im so dry most of the time #My all time highest score is about 6 hours for one call #also this is one of those ones where like....if i dont do headcanons for ur fav....just message me ill make them like SNAP #i have yet to get use to the chaos of discord ironically #i have to try harder though!!#oh i forgot my writing tag agian #mari writes

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yndrgrl · 8 months ago

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"please don't go, i love you so, my lovely"

~++~*~++~

[welcome] to my blog! how are you feeling today? i am the owner of this blog, feel free to call me whatever you want! i go by all pronouns, but people mostly use she/her haha. my specialty is yandere (obviously) but i do love me some good cutesy romance! when i'm not writing, you can find me on a mat wrestling, lifting weights at the gym, or at my desk journaling :)

[warnings]: i will say that my yandere works are fairly soft compared to other yandere interpretations, but i will warn you that i typically write obsessive behaviors, stalking, & smut. any other warnings you should be aware of are included in the fanfics themselves.

~++~*~++~

[masterlist]: all my fics are located below :)

LONG ASS FICS.

"i think about you all the fuckin' time" -> link

your classmate, yandere! bakugou, has a major crush on you. nsfw.

"so tell me, if you feel the same" -> link

bakugou had a glowup during summer break. sfw.

"i want you. all of you" -> link

new bf! bakugou helps his bunnygirl gf, you. nsfw.

"you think you're all that?" -> link

yandere! bakugou uses you to get to your friend but falls for you instead. nsfw.

"you're just our type" -> link

you gym crushes, yandere! kiribaku, finally make a move. nsfw.

"you know, it's rude to stare, y/n" -> link

your new job is to nanny yandere! aizawa's cute kid. nsfw.

"i'm busy fucking! " -> link

you are promoted to assistant for your boss, yandere! bakugou. nsfw.

"just swallow your pride & ask like a good girl" -> link

your enemy, yandere! bakugou, is possessive over you. nsfw.

"you think you're so clever, huh?" -> link

your mission, as a spy, is to bring mafia boss, yandere! dabi. nfsw.

-more coming soon... <3

CUTE LIL DRABBLES.

"an idiot" -> link

bakugou has a crush on you, & you're dense. sfw.

"oh, how i adore you, y/n" -> link

you & bakugou's relationship dynamic. sfw.

"no one calls me sweet, like... ever" -> link

you believe that bakugou is too sweet for you. sfw.

-more coming soon... <3

HEADCANNONS FOR YO ASS.

"you better stfu or else you'll be in so much trouble" -> link

step bro! bakugo x step sis! reader. nsfw.

"tell me you're mine forever, baby girl" -> link

dilf! bakugou x barista! reader. nsfw.

"wonder how far you'll go to stop us" -> link

bullies! kiribaku x reader. nsfw.

-more coming soon... <3

~++~*~++~

[i will not write] the traditional yandere x darling stuff where the yandere tortures their darling. i also do not write heavily forced nsfw content & heavily unwilling reader because i want my fics to be indulgent, not traumatic. i also refuse to write homophobia, racism, any sort of hate towards a group of people, p3do shit, necrophilia, scat, urine, & feet (it freaks me out haha).

[i do write] dark romance, bdsm, degrading & praising, somnaphilia, dom/sub dynamics, power play, voyerism, abo stuff, other au's, & reasonable age gaps (teacher/student, boss/employee, etc). i will write coercion & light unwilling-to-willing reader. if i didn't mention anything, but you want me to write some other kink, feel free to message me & i'll let you know if i'll write it or not :)

~++~*~++~

#masterlist

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loveshotzz · 1 year ago

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bouncer!steve x fem!reader Steve’s night

🎵 I finally found someone that can make me laugh, hahaha you so crazy, I think I wanna have your baby. 🎵

summary: you’ve got a crush on the new bouncer at The Foxy Lounge. turns out he’s not very good at his job.

word count: 13.6k

warnings: 18+ 90’s AU// Steve is in his early 30’s, Your date gets drunk and says some night nice things, some mild violence (bar fights), possessive steve, fingering, smut (p in v) cream pie, ass eating (f! receiving), oral (f! receiving), dirty talk.

authors note: part two of Whatta Man (steve’s night) you don’t need to read eddie’s to read this one it’s just a little more fun if you do. i’ve seen other writers repost their work after it’s been flagged so here I am. I worked on this for months. please be kind.

The perks of moving into the apartment that presides above The Foxy Lounge were vast for a single girl like yourself, but the perks of becoming friends with the bartender that worked there seemed to make them endless.

Memorized orders and free drinks when he was feeling nice (which he almost always was), he wore the crown of wingman of the century with pride, Eddie always made sure you had a good time. It was days like today that were your favorite though, heading home from a shitty morning shift at work, you weren’t surprised when you tugged on the front door an hour before open and it wasn’t locked. The annoyed look on his face told you he wasn’t either. An irritated groan leaves his chest at the carelessness of the owner and your landlord before popping the caps off two beers with ease. The loud clink of metal to glass echoes in the empty bar, as he flips his bottle opener between his fingers like muscle memory stuffing it in his back pocket.

“He’s gonna get us robbed one day, and I’m just gonna take my favorite bottle for damages and let them have the rest at this point.” His smile shows the lack of truth behind his words when you sit in the stool in front of him.

“Lucky for the both of you, it’s always just me.” Winking when you take a swig, the bitter liquid and the company eases the bad day out of your bones almost instantly.

The beginnings of a relaxed sigh start to push past your lips when the jarring sound of his rings slapping against the wood of the bar to the tune of a drum roll has you tense right back up. You’re unable to stop the slam of your beer before deadpanning, “you know I hate when you do that-“

“My best buddy Steve starts tomorrow night, I finally got Rick to say yes.” Eddie’s excitement has him vibrating when he cuts you off to tell you the news of the latest Foxy Lounge employee. “You’re gonna have such a crush on him. I’m calling it now.” The smirk on his face and the arch of his brow dare you to challenge him as he leans forward into your space.

Rolling your eyes with a snort, you start picking at the white sticker wrapped around the bottle.

“As if you know my type, Munson.” You can’t control the twitch of your lips the second the words leave your mouth when you finally dare to meet his amused gaze.

Eddie knew your type better than anyone else. Watching the men and sometimes women you’d bring upstairs weekend after weekend. He had you pegged and the Cheshire smile on his face told you he knew it too.

“I can hear it now.” He changes the pitch of his voice so it sounds like a bad version of yours before he continues with an exaggerated batting of his lashes, “Oh Eddie, Steve is just so dreamy. Do you think he thinks I’m cute? Will you talk to him? Come on Eddie!”

“I do NOT talk like that, asshole!” Launching a handful of bar nuts at him, he raises his hands in mock surrender shaking out the few that got stuck in his hair with a booming laugh.

“I don’t think that's a nice way to treat the guy who not only didn’t kick you out but also gave you a free beer before we opened, sweetheart.” His dimpled grin and perfect smile almost has your stomach in butterflies.

“I basically live here, besides your boss is the one who left the door unlocked. Maybe it’s a good thing you’re upping your security around here,” you tease, gulping down the rest of the beer before sliding the empty bottle over.

“We’ll see about this Steve guy you won’t shut up about, who knows Eddie, maybe it’s you who’s got a crush.”

Sweeping up the mess you made behind his bar he smirks before wiggling his brows.

“Everyone’s got a crush on Steve, baby.”

The pink fluorescent lights of the Foxy Lounge sign that hangs outside your window paints your studio in a blush tinted glow. It bleeds through the sheer floor length curtains, softening its harshness in a way that you liked. The darkness outside always makes it shine brightest around this time, a constant fight with your overhead lamp before bed. Your eyes catch the glaring red numbers on your clear digital clock reading 8:45pm.

Shit. You’re late.

No Doubt’s I’m Just A Girl plays loud enough through your boom box speakers to drown out the murmurs of the bar downstairs that spill through the slight crack in your bedroom window. You finish the last touch ups to the bubble gum colored gloss that coats your lips, smacking them together loudly. You give yourself a sweet smile in the mirror before fluttering your lashes for good measure. The finishing touch.

Finally feeling ready enough to leave, you adjust the black velvet choker around your neck with lavender painted nails. They highlight the lime green tube top that wraps around your chest as you pull at your black maxi skirt that sits above your hips hugging your curves just right.

You give yourself one last once over while you slip on your clunky Steve Madden slides, telling yourself the whole time you didn’t get all done up for the new bouncer. Instead you tell yourself it’s because you want to get lucky with the guy that invited you to get last minute drinks conveniently at the bar you above.

Turning around to give your studio apartment the safety check, you shuffle over your baby blue carpet with loud clacks from your sandals to hurriedly straighten your pink comforter and snuff out your incense. Grabbing your bag, you rush out with a flip of the light switch, only getting two steps away before having to pop back in to grab your keys hanging by the door.

The platforms on your slides are heavy as you make your way down the staircase, the narrow hallway bouncing your steps off the walls despite the cushion of the ugly brown carpet. One hand on the banister and the other dragging along the wall for balance, you pick up your pace barreling towards the door. Pushing it open with more force than normal, you hit something on the other side, hard.

An oof and the sound of plastic skidding across the sidewalk is followed by the crash of a stool that must’ve belonged to whoever was sitting on it. Stepping onto the pavement with a clack from your sandals, you stop in your tracks when you see his broad shoulders first. Bent over, you watch him collect what looks like an orange Tamagotchi, stuffing it quickly in his back pocket before brushing the dust off his dark denim clad thighs. The way he fills his jeans has your mouth dry up and his muscles flex under the black cotton shirt that wraps tight around his torso, the seams barely containing what’s underneath. Turning around he runs a big hand through his honey colored locks that stop just below his ears, pushing the fly aways from his face while the shine of the street lamp highlights his cheekbones and sharp jaw.

God you hated when Eddie was right.

Hazel eyes rake over your form while yours follow the freckles that run along his neck that lead to small moles placed like a cluster of stars along his jaw. His chiseled nose runs down a narrow line with lips tinged pink like his cheeks. The expression on his face going from irritated to flirty in a matter of seconds flat, the whites of his teeth showing when he gives you an easy smile.

“I’m - oh my god, I’m so sorry. I’m running late and no one is ever sitting there and I - Are you okay?” Talking a mile a minute, you hate that he has your nerves getting the best of you.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Raising his hands up to stop you, the press of your thighs is instant when you see the silver band wrapped around the thickness of his middle finger. “No apologies necessary, it was an accident, honey.”

The endearment leaves his mouth while his lips turn his smile crooked, and it makes you dizzy. Bending down to grab the stool off the ground, a matching chain slips out from under his shirt and the glow above gives you a glimpse at the patch of thick chest hair hidden from sight.

“Besides, it’s not the first time a pretty girl has knocked me on my ass.” Folding his arms across his pecs, he leans against the brick of the bar crossing his legs at the ankles. The black boots that cover his feet look big and menacing despite his disposition.

Biting your bottom lip into a smile, you look up at him through shy lashes and you swear you hear him sigh at the sight.

“Well as long as you’re okay-“

“Steve,” he offers his name with a flash of his teeth again, a spark lighting in his eyes when he sees the way you react to it.

“Well you’ll probably see my face around here a lot,” you say, doing your best to ignore the way your cheeks burn.

“I sure hope so.” Pulling a toothpick out of his back pocket, he slides it between his lips. Jaw clenching when he bites down on the wood while his eyes roam your curves again before offering you another grin.

It makes you do one thing a man has never made you genuinely do. You giggle. Tucking your hair behind your ear, you hardly recognize yourself anymore.

“I was gonna say, 'cause I live upstairs.” Your voice is sweet despite the roll of your eyes, his jaw clenches against the wood. He liked that.

He only breaks his stare to follow the path of your finger, his eyes lingering on your open window for a second before bringing all his attention back on you. The tension grows even thicker when he kicks off the wall, realization hitting him. The soles of his boots are loud against the pavement when he closes the distance between you with two long strides. Getting close enough to smell the cinnamon on his breath, and the expensive cologne that lingers on his bronzed skin, you forget all about your date waiting for you inside.

“Eddie’s told me all about you.” Using the tip of his tongue, he pushes the toothpick to the other side of his mouth, his smirk telling you all you need to know.

“That’s funny, Eddie’s told me about you too,” you lick your lips, tasting the fruit of your gloss as you look up at him from under hooded shimmering lids, “Steve.”

He inches just a little closer to teeter on the edge of what’s appropriate before responding, “Oh yeah? Did you like what you heard baby?”

His smile is as sinful as it is blinding. A darkened gaze locked on yours as he pulls the tooth pick out his mouth letting the sharp end snag his bottom lip before stuffing it in his back pocket again.

The electricity in the air sparks and fizzes, standing close enough to see the freckles that line his nose and the specks of glitter smattered in a similar pattern on your cheeks.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” Raising an eyebrow, your response has him sucking his teeth before rolling his tongue against the inside of his cheek accepting your answer with a nod of his head.

Pulling out a small red flashlight with a soft click of the button at the end, white light floods the dark. The beam roams over the expanse of your body with a purposeful path before stopping at his outstretched hand.

“I.D.?” Amusement evident in his voice, he wiggles his fingers at you keeping up with his charade. The motion daring to make a mess of your underwear.

You try to cover up your laugh with a fake scoff, making it come out loud enough for him to snort. Your lips twitch as you try to fight the losing battle with the smile threatening to break across your face.

“What? I need to be careful here sweetheart. It’s my first night, I gotta make sure you’re really who you say you are, and not just some pretty girl trying to flirt her way inside.” He keeps the perfect poker face while he tuts at you to hurry up for the invisible line behind you.

“Would it have worked?” you ask handing him your driver’s license, wincing internally at the picture he is about to see.

Brushing his fingers against yours when he takes it for closer examination, he huffs out a laugh before looking down at you with a smug grin.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” He winks like an expert before making a big show of bringing your ID close to his face like it might be a fake.

Tsking to himself as he reads it over, he peeks over at you with a sly smirk. “A whole year older than me. Good for you, I like older women.”

Closing the space that developed when you had to dig in your purse, you snatch the plastic out of his hand, relishing in the way his breath hitches because of it. “I’m shocked you can read Steve, Eddie’s taste can be a bit…shoddy.”

“I think I’m pretty good at it actually, I’m good at reading a lot of things.” Ignoring your jab he’s quick to regain his confidence. “Things like, I don’t know, body language.” The spice of the cinnamon returns when he pulls out his toothpick again. He flashes you his pearly whites when he bites down, keeping his eyes locked on yours, a silent dare to prove him wrong.

Like magnets finding each other, the toes of his boots brush against your sandals. When did he get this close again?

Mariah Carey’s Fantasy cuts off any witty response that sits on the tip of your tongue as the bar door creaks open, rudely snapping you both back to reality. A boy who looks barely above the legal age is the culprit for popping your bubble, stopping dead in his tracks when the flirting bouncer’s attention redirects itself to where it should be. You already miss it.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold up, punk.” Grabbing the kid by the collar of his shirt, he mutters a ‘shit’ under his breath.

You take a step back, your eyes meeting Eddie's from inside, the commotion catching his and a few other patrons' stares, including your date.

Oh yeah, you had a date.

“I’m gonna need to see some I.D.” Steve’s voice drops deeper after he clears his throat, if his tamagotchi didn’t beep right after, signaling it’s need to be fed it would’ve been more intimidating. Your own digital pet buried at the bottom of your bag probably doing the same, already reborn fresh this morning from forgetting it at home while at work the night before.

“Umm, you see, I left my wallet at home,” the kid starts to stammer, the metal of his braces showing when he gives the bouncer a nervous grin.

Almost forgetting he had an audience, Steve’s eyes meet yours, softening before that million dollar smile takes over his handsome face.

“You’re free to go in. You know where to come when you wanna talk about all those things you liked hearing about me.”

Your stomach flutters despite the roll of your eyes at his words and you're reminded crossing the threshold that you’re here to meet another man, already scolding yourself for not taking Eddie’s warning seriously.

“I bet you’d like that wouldn’t you, Steve?” You linger in the door frame, looking at him from over your shoulder, and it makes the corners of his eyes crinkle.

“You already know the answer to that, gorgeous.” His toothpick switches sides again before finally going back to doing his job, tugging the kid closer.

“I.D. or no entry dick head.”

Despite there being no line outside, the bar was pretty full. The low buzz of conversation before the drinks really start to hit filling the crowded space. Mariah finishes her last high note when your eyes connect with Eddie’s before meeting Devin’s. He’s dressed like Danny Tanner and it makes you cringe. Pushing up his wire frame glasses, he waves so eagerly the Salmon’s that cover his dress shirt look like they're swimming in the background rapids with the movements of his arm. He’s completely oblivious to Eddie mocking him behind his back, mouthing ‘DORK’ with a shit eating grin before finally attending to the girl with smeared makeup that had been desperately trying to get his attention from the other end of the bar.

You take a deep breath, readjusting the strap of your bag before you push your chin up making your way over. Determined to have a good time, you put on your best face, returning his wave with forced enthusiasm while Steve’s smile etches itself into your memory permanently.

Paula Abdul’s Vibeology starts pumping through the speakers around you, the sticky floor vibrating with the bass under your sandals as you sway your hips to the beat. He stands up when you approach his spot at the bar and you notice his button up is tucked into mustard colored corduroy slacks, and it makes you miss the tight fitting denim of the man outside even more. Shaking your head to try and get rid of all the thoughts swirling in your head about the guy you weren’t on a date with, you desperately try to match Devin’s excited energy when he opens his arms for a hug.

“I was starting to get worried you were standing me up.” He laughs nervously as you tuck yourself into his chest. Your eyes peek over his shoulder meeting Eddie’s again as he slides your favorite drink over (tequila and pineapple), and god you wish you hadn’t.

Wiggling his eyebrows, you flip him the bird behind Devin’s back watching the bartender pretend to catch it and put it in his pocket making your eyes hit the back of your skull.

“No, sorry, I just lost track of the time.” Not a total lie you leave out the fact that you forgot about him completely just a few minutes ago. Pulling away, you avoid his eyes, too scared they’ll give you away.

“All is forgiven, pretty lady.” He bows slightly, and you have to ignore the way Eddie snorts as he walks past with hands full of Miller Lite.

“You’re so sweet,” cringing at how fake your voice comes out but Devin doesn’t seem to notice as you both take your seats, knees barely touching between the space of the stools.

“Thanks for agreeing to drinks tonight, I’ve been wanting to ask you out for a while now. Just didn’t know, w-with office etiquette a-and all,” stuttering, his nerves get the best of him. He tries to hide it behind a sip of his beer.

“No, I’m, I’m glad you did,”you lie, your eyes flicking to the door one more time before grabbing your drink. An awkward silence settles between the two of you as you press your lips to the rim to slurp at the top to prevent any spill over.

God, you already want this to be over.

The conversation does get easier after your first drink, the flirting a little less forced as your hand finds its way to squeeze his thigh when you laugh at something he says that’s only half funny. Choking on the foam from his beer from your sudden touch, he wipes his mouth bashful from his outburst. Eddie murmurs a “go easy on him tiger” when he gets you a refill, earning him your bratty tongue.

“So you transferred here last year from Portland, right Devin? What’s it like over there?” Resting your chin on your knuckles, you look up at him from under your lashes enjoying the way it makes his breath catch.

“It was- It was a lot different from here…”

Finally on your A game, you try not to pay attention when the front door opens behind your date. It’s to no avail when you catch his figure in your peripheral and you can’t fight it anymore. All the progress you’ve made going out the window when Steve makes his first reappearance since your arrival.

Toothpick replaced with what looked like Big Red chewing gum, his hazel eyes scan the crowd before landing on you. The smirk that you’d been trying to forget tugs at the corners of his lips, and any luck that Devin might have had with you tonight disappears like that.

The bouncer looks pointedly at the man beside you, sizing him up, smile stretching wider when he assesses his threat. Leaning against the wall, he crosses his arms across his chest so the sleeves of his shirt look like they are being pushed to their limits as the muscles in his biceps flex. Hips pushed out in a way that’s daring you to look below his waist, he throws you a wink with a snap of his gum.

“...So yeah, that’s the long and short , it,” Devin finishes with a proud smile and you just nod, not catching a single word he said.

Steve’s stare is relentless, and your body responds to it without you having to even meet his gaze. His tongue swipes across his bottom lip, jaw clenching with every hard chew of his gum. Pushing himself off the wall, he starts a slow walk towards you. Big heavy steps bring him closer, every thud of his boots making your thighs clench, as you try desperately to stay concentrated.

Your date’s in the middle of another story that sounds like white noise, your lack of attention making him a babbling mess. He doesn’t notice the way Steve stops next to him first, giving him a once over from up close to make sure he wasn’t missing something from afar before coming up to you with the kind of smile that’s dripping with trouble.

“....So the logistics of it are kinda crazy when you think-“

“Just checking on my pretty new friend over here,” Steve cuts Devin off, not interested in anything but you. His large hand finds the small of your back, his palm almost big enough to cover the exposed skin between your skirt and top. It sends a shiver up your spine that the pad of his thumb soothes when it rubs circles over your sprouting goosebumps. “Having a good night, baby?”

The pet name falls so smoothly off his tongue that it takes Devin a minute to realize that it even left Steve’s mouth, a scowl souring his face when he sees the way your eyes glaze over looking up at the bouncer.

“Yeah, I’m having a real nice time Steve.” Sucking your bottom lip between your teeth, he notices the subtle way you lean into his touch. Your body needy for more.

“You better be.” He winks, letting the blunt ends of his nails scratch along your back before adding salt to Devin’s wound, “And you know where to find me if that changes.”

There’s a knowing smirk that plays on the edges of his mouth, biting his lip he finally tears his eyes away from you to give a head nod to the date you’d forgotten about for the second time tonight. Steve tosses him a wink too, a gesture that makes Devin’s jaw clench. Steve opens his mouth to say something that was sure to piss him off more, but he’s cut off by the sound of Eddie’s rings slamming hard on the bar behind you.

“Dude! What the fuck are you doing inside? Do you know how many people have walked in without getting checked? It's PEAK hours!” The bartender's eyes are frantic, fingers running through his curls as he yells at his friend. “Quit flirting and go do your job. Also, is that a fucking kid man?”

Eddie points to the boy that the bouncer stopped earlier who was snooping around abandoned tables in search for leftovers he was definitely not of legal age for, Steve’s cheeks tint the color of your lipgloss when he looks at you with sheepish eyes. The confidence he was dripping with disappears into embarrassment while doing his best to ignore the smug look on your date’s face.

“Calm down man, it was three minutes! I’ll get rid of the fuckin’ kid. Again.” He rubs the back of his neck as he walks away, stalking towards the boy who looks like he’s seen a ghost. “Hey asshole! You must’ve grown eight years in twenty minutes for me to be seeing you here!”

The boy raises his hands up in surrender slowly backing away, giving Steve an opportunity to turn around to toss you one last smile and wiggle his fingers at Devin before focusing on the high schooler who is already halfway out the door. The kid's walk turns into a run when Steve cracks his knuckles for show, following him out with long strides, disappearing back outside and out of sight.

You’re left with awkward silence between you and your date as Eddie stomps away muttering under his breath. Devin clears his throat, twirling his beer, the glass against the wood making a sound that starts to grate on your nerves. He’s daring you to look at him. The huff he exhales afterwards begs you to look. Your mind races with ideas of how to get out of this and when you dare to finally take a peek, he’s looking forward, emptying the last of his bottle.

“I’m gonna go smoke a cigarette!” You blurt out, grabbing your bag and leaving no time for a response. Your sandals clack as you power walk to the door. To Steve.

The summer night is sticky on your face when you step out of the bar, the sound of a girl’s sniffled “You’re right Steve” directing your stare to the bouncer you were looking for. Sitting on the very stool you knocked him off of, his big boots sit on the lowest footrest with his knees spread wide. Inviting. His eyes connect with yours, widening a bit when you smirk at him while getting yourself comfortable on the brick wall on the opposite side of the door. Digging your cigarettes out of your purse, you notice the girl next to him has mascara running down her cheeks that she only makes worse when she wipes them with the back of her hand.

“You know Maryanne, it sounds like this isn’t the first time he’s done this to you. I think it’s time to kick him to the curb. You deserve better.” He speaks to her like they’ve been friends their whole lives and you have no idea how he’s learned so much about her in the few minutes he’s been outside. Crossing his arms as he leans back enough for the legs of the stool to pull up, he catches himself with his shoulders against the wall behind him.

“He sounds like a chump if you ask me,”you chime in, lighting your cigarette. Steve’s smile shines under the pink luminescent sign above him when he hears your voice. The wooden legs of his stool smacking loud against the cement when he pushes off the wall.

She’s startled by your sudden appearance, not noticing when you came out - too lost in her own world. She gives you a weak smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes before she nods, tugging at her high pony and somehow making it higher. The sequined scrunchy in her hair catches the street light as she tries hyping herself up to return to whoever was making her cry inside.

“He is a chump, but most men are.” She sighs, her shoulders relaxing a little more as she calms down.

“You’ve got this honey, tell him to fuck off and go home with Lisa if that’s what he wants so bad,” Steve champions, patting her on the back, a new layer to Maryanne’s story being revealed. His eyes flick back to you as you take a drag, the mossy green going dark when he watches your cheeks hollow.

“Thanks for listening Steve, I’m gonna go back in now.” She wipes her nose one more time, before giving you a polite head nod.

“Have Eddie make you something sweet, and tell him it’s on me.” The bouncer winks, giving her the boost of confidence she needs before opening the door you just came out of. Monifah’s Touch It adds to the tension between Steve and you when it leaks out of the bar as she disappears inside. The bass thumps against the brick, leaving the song just muffled enough to be background noise when it closes behind her.

The air is heavier, thicker with something you both know is there. Playing hard to get, you don’t meet his gaze, despite feeling it over every curve and dip of your body. Inhaling another hit of nicotine, you lift your head up to exhale the smoke into the dark sky, extending your neck for him to see before you finally give in and chance a glance in his direction.

He looks far too handsome, smiling wide when you meet his eyes, all his perfectly white teeth baring themselves at you in a way that makes your legs shake.

“Missed me already baby?” His feet hit the sidewalk, his man spread somehow bigger this way as he scoots closer to the edge of the stool.

“You’re not very good at your job, are you?” You grin, successfully dodging the answer he already knows as your head hits the side of the building. Tilting your chin in his direction with your lip tucked between your teeth, you catch his narrowed glare.

“Nice try sweetheart, I used to watch Road House, religiously. I learned from the best. I’m just distracted,” the buttery smoothness of his voice returns, the last of his sentence coming out in a purr.

“Distracted?” You quirk a brow, not giving into him just yet.

“Yes, very much so and I regret to inform you that it’s all your fault too.” He sticks his bottom lip out at you in a pout, earning the giggle he’d been trying to get again since he first heard it, even if it's accompanied by your pretty eyes rolling in the back of your head.

“I’m on a date, Steve.” Even though you know it’s a weak comeback at this point, you still give it and he doesn’t miss a beat.

“Where? I don’t see him.”

Your cheeks heat up at his observation so you take another drag of your half smoked cigarette to try and hide the way he’s affecting you.

“I’m supposed to be quittin’, but you’re makin’ it look too good, pretty girl. Let me have a puff?” His question is an invitation, making the first move to call your bluff, to get you closer.

“Is that why you seem to have a cinnamon addiction?” you tease, not surprised when you kick off the wall accepting it with a smirk and an exaggerated sway of your hips.

He licks his lips while his eyes roam the length of your body unashamed, one large hand raking through his hair when you stop close enough to smell the topic of discussion on his breath.

“Could be addicted to worse,” he murmurs, not sure where to look having you between his legs like this.

“It’s a Newport, S‘that okay, Steve?” you ask him from underneath flirting lashes. His breath hitching before a sly smirk spreads across his pink lips.

“More than okay baby.” He leans closer, fingers wrapping around the plush curve of your hip to anchor you in place.

Tipping up on your toes, your hand comes down on his thigh making the muscle flex against your palm, your touch sending shocks through the rough denim while the other holds the gloss stained end up to his mouth.

Steve holds your stare when his lips wrap around where yours just were. His nails dig half crescent moons into your exposed skin as his cheeks hollow out. You can feel your heartbeat between your legs, your brows meeting in the middle when he tugs you even closer before tilting his head up. The thick expanse of his neck on full display as he blows out his drag, adam's apple bobbing in the light making the moles dance across his skin.

“The strawberry really sets it off.” He grins as his hand dares to slide down the top curve of your ass, making it his new home when you make no moves to get away from him.

“Thanks, it’s my favorite gloss.” You shrug, pretending to unphased by his teasing, but the mess in your panties would give you away if he could see.

“Maybe I could get a better taste,” his words are bold, but his free hand is bolder. Soft fingertips play with the top hem of your skirt, daring to dip under the fabric every once and awhile and he swears he hears you whimper.

“You want more?” Your voice comes out small, dripping in honey just for him. You know what he really wants, but he’s not gonna get it yet.

“God, if you’ll let me honey.” There’s a light squeeze on the dough of your ass, and it makes you flutter around nothing.

You lean in slowly, your hand moving further up his thigh watching the way his chest starts to rise and fall from it. Stretching the cotton of his shirt with every breath. The fingers that had been exploring the top of your skirt start a path up to the bottom of your top. A low hum coming from under his breath when the sweetness of your body lotion hits his nose.

His eyes shut when your faces get close enough that he feels like he can taste the strawberry that he wants so bad. He doesn’t notice when you pull back at the last second to replace your kiss with another puff until your cigarette shoves past his puckered lips.

When he opens them, he’s met with your giggles, a sound he wants on a loop. He pretends to glare, still taking the hit you were offering him, exhaling it through his nose like an angry bull. He opens his mouth to chastise you but the beeping of his digital pet interrupts his intimidating moment again.

“Gotta get that?” Your lips twitch while you try to contain your laugh, flicking the cigarette onto the street.

“Listen, my best friend got it for me. I thought it was incredibly stupid, and I definitely told her it was too.” The hand on your waist leaves to dig his Tamagotchi out of his front pocket. “But now I’m attached to the little guy.”

The key chain sized toy lights up in his hand, as he starts to feed it with a press of a button.

“Mine died yesterday,” you admit and the laugh you’d been fighting off echoes loudly when he looks up at you horrified.

“What? Do you have it with you now?”he questions as the small happy tune plays signaling that his pet is fully satisfied.

“She’s somewhere in my bag, don’t worry she was reborn this morning,” your words don’t reassure him considering they seem to need food every thirty minutes and you haven’t pulled it out once since he’s met you.

“Sounds like you want her to die again to me.” Steve’s very real concern about your Tamagotchi has you smirking.

“They die so easily, you’re telling me yours hasn’t died?”

Your jaw drops when he shakes his head ‘no’, a smugness taking over his handsome features.

“Steve, that’s like really hard to do.” You don’t know whether you should be impressed or roast him but when his hand grips at your ass one more time you decide it’s the first.

“Better give her to me for the night baby, I’ll keep her nice and healthy for my favorite girl.” Stuffing his back into his pocket, he holds his palm open for you in a vow to keep your digital pet alive and an excuse to see you later.

Rolling your eyes playfully, you obey his wishes. Digging to the bottom of your bag till you find your purple one. The screen already going off, and the muffled beeping that signaled the need for it to be fed finally becomes loud enough to hear.

“See! I told you. On the cusp of death already.”

You drop it in his hand, right as an older trucker comes barreling out of the bar reminding you where you’re at and that Devin is still waiting inside. Again.

“Fuck, I should go back in.” You sigh as your fingers play with the seam on the leg of his jeans.

“Go back in and tell that guy to get lost,” the bouncer almost whines, his grip on your hip tightening before he lets you go.

“Steve,” you huff but the smile on your face gives him hope.

“Just saying sweetheart, could be fun.” He shrugs, putting on an air of nonchalance while your Tamagotchi dangles from his thumb.

You both know who you really want to go home with tonight.

The bubble you and Steve are in pops as soon as you get back inside The sound of the distant cars on the freeway and Steve’s voice is replaced with Return of the Mack and the crowd that was at a simmer when you first got here is now at a full boil.

You have to get rid of Devin.

He’s right where you left him, hunched over and twirling his beer bottle on top of the bar. You notice the three empty shot glasses before you see Eddie dropping off another one while giving you the kind of eyes that say ‘Come take care of your date’ as he walks away. Taking a deep breath, you make your way towards him going over all the ways you can let him down easy while your nerves drown out the little bit of guilt you had for ditching him.

“Heeeey,” your voice is high pitched, awkwardness dripping from its tone when you finally return to your stool next to him.

Crickets.

You freeze - he’s ignoring you. How can you get rid of him if he’s ignoring you? Your eyes shift around the bar nervously, offering an awkward tight lipped smile when anyone meets your stare. You search for Eddie again, hoping to silently ask for help but his back is to you, clearly putting the moves on a girl at the other end.

“Devin.”

You hope that saying his name will elicit the desired response but that dwindles quickly when he chugs the rest of his beer, continuing his charade and keeping his gaze forward before slamming the empty bottle down.

“I’m going to the bathroom,” he grumbles, irritation laced in every word before he pushes off the stool still not meeting your eyes.

You wait till he’s out of earshot before you let out a groan, your long disappearance clearly pissed him off. Propping yourself up by your elbows on the sticky bar, you close your eyes, rubbing your temples while you try to think of the right way to go about this. Eddie’s knowing chuckle is the last thing you want to hear but that’s just how the night is going now.

“You pretty little scoundrel!” He slaps the spot in front of you forcing your eyes open, his smile only widening when you glare at him.

“He’s so pissed and now thanks to you,” gesturing towards the empty shot glasses Eddie gets rid of with quick hands, you avoid the real reason, “He’s gonna be trashed!”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa sweetheart. I’m not the one who can’t keep their hands off Stevie boy. And on a date too? Tsk tsk tsk.” He crosses his arms with a shake of his head, “Now you broke poor Derek’s -“

“Devin.”

“Whatever - fish guy’s heart. Aren’t you in a little predicament hmm?” Eddie hums the last part, but you can see the excited glint in his eyes. He loves watching your escapades.

“Listen,” you can’t help the giggle that bubbles past your strawberry lips under his knowing gaze, “When you told me he was hot Eddie, you didn’t tell me he was that hot.”

Smirking, you enjoy watching the way his face contorts knowing that was a damn lie.

“Are you kidding?” He throws his hands in the air, giving you the reaction you were baiting him for, “It was the first thing I told you.”

You laugh loudly at his exasperation with your antics, almost forgetting about Devin entirely for the third time tonight.

“Have fun figuring out this little love triangle you’ve created, I need to get to the rest of the paying customers so I can get back to that hottie at the end of the bar.” He points to the girl he was talking to earlier who’s sipping a drink she looks surprised to even like.

“I bet you aren’t charging her for anything are you?” You narrow your eyes playfully, cackling when he rolls his waving you off as he walks away.

Sliding off the stool, you tug up your tube top, ready to give it to Devin straight, more than eager to get back outside again.

“I knew the guys in the office said you were easy, but I didn’t think you’d be spreading your legs for anything that walked on our date.” Devin’s voice comes as a surprise, but the tight grip on your arm pulling you to him is an even bigger one.

Searing rage fills every part of your body at the fact that he put his hands on you, palms flat on his chest, you use all your strength to shove him away. Shock paints his features, not expecting you to fight back so aggressively. All the drinks he’s had make him stumble back, losing his footing almost falling into the couple next to him.

“Well I’m sure as shit not spreading them for you!” you spit, looking him up and down with disgust before putting a finger in his face, “And your shirt? It’s fucking ugly.”

You give him one last once over before shaking your head and walking away. Heading back towards the entrance, you notice Steve inside again. A hard glare is set on his face, nostrils flaring as he zeros in on Devin behind you who’s still trying to regain his balance.

God, it’s the hottest he’s looked all night.

Steve’s hazel eyes meet yours and they instantly soften when you can’t help but smile as he opens the door for you.

“Thanks Stevie,” using Eddie’s nickname, you run your hands across his chest when you walk by, just to add salt to Devin’s wound.

The flush that paints his cheeks tells you how much he likes it.

“When I told you to ditch your date, I didn’t mean to fist fight him, honey,” he teases, following you outside, letting the chipped red door shut behind you and muffling the sounds of the bar again.

“He got mad about my little disappearance before I could let him down easy.” Turning around, you bite your bottom lip to try to hide your growing smile.

“Poor guy.” Steve grins before taking the two steps to close the gap, to crowd your space. Cinnamon fanning across your face, “Never stood a chance.”

It’s harder for you to breathe when he looks at you like he wants to kiss you, but before you can respond, the door flies open.A drunk Devin stumbling out with a glare breaking you two apart.

“Of course, of FUCKING course. Not even two seconds later? You really are a slut, huh?” Devin seethes, stumbling out onto the sidewalk.

“I’m really going to need you to watch your mouth champ. No need to call girls names. You’re a big boy.” Steve’s tone is condescending as he squares up, making sure you’re behind him.

“You think you’re so fucking cool,” Devin scoffs before hiccuping, “Careful with this one, she’s probably sucked your buddy’s dick inside too.”

“Yeah, that’s enough, asshole. Go home, before I have to beat some respect into that ugly skull of yours.” Steve cracks his knuckles again, but it doesn’t have the same effect as before, Devin only raising his eyebrows at the bouncer.

“Respect? That’s funny. The whore behind you hasn’t heard of it.”

Steve loses his cool and like a flash he’s on him. Pulling his fist back Steve moves just a little too slow and Devin clocks him right in the jaw. The sound of bone against bone echoes loudly into the night. Stumbling back, Steve cradles where an ugly bruise will start forming in the morning, rubbing it out. He cracks his neck before barreling towards Devin, taking him down to the ground like a football player.

In a flurry of fists and cuss words, Devin somehow gets Steve pinned. The alcohol and anger flowing through his system turns him into The Hulk. Your screams for them to stop fall on deaf ears while they continue to roll around on the ground. Panic sets in when you realize neither man is going to stop. Doing the only thing you know how to do in these situations, you get Eddie.

Frantic, you open the door, ignoring the fact that Third Eye Blind is playing at the exact worst time, you scream Eddie’s name loud enough to silence the bar.

“Eddie! It’s bad. Steve needs you!”

He looks up from a clearly flirtatious conversation with the girl from before, both of their eyes landing on you as you get your friends attention. He grumbles, grabbing her hands saying something to her that makes her nod bashfully before jumping over the bar top. Jogging out the front, he towers easily over the two men, neither one of you bothering to check the red heads I.D. that walks in after you.

“The first fucking night man!” Eddie yells at Steve, grabbing Devin by the back of his shirt pulling him off the bouncer with ease, but not before Steve gets one more cheap shot in.

He wrestles against Eddie’s grip for a second before finally giving up with a hiccup, hocking a loogie in Steve’s direction.

“You done?” The bartender's face is unamused, as he waits for Devin to nod. “I never wanna see you or your shitty ass style at my bar again. Beat it bozo before I give you a matching black eye to go with the one Steve gave you.”

Two against one is too much for Devin to take on, so he raises his hands up in surrender when Eddie lets him go. Rolling his tongue against his cheek he shoots you one last glare before turning on his heel. Flipping everyone off as he starts down the sidewalk. Steve returns the gesture, spitting at his retreating form.

“You good?” Eddie asks, extending his hand for his friend to take.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m good. Just hate that guy.” Steve mumbles, looking everywhere but at you while he straightens his shirt and dusts off his jeans with bloody knuckles.

“Your hand dude, I can’t have you bleeding all over people I.D’s. and I know Rick doesn’t have a first aid kit. At least I’ve never seen one.” Eddie rubs the back of his neck, stress coming in the form of knitted brows.

“I’ve got one,” you mumble, finally finding your voice and the bartender claps, wiping his hands clean of the situation.

“There, go play nurse with lover boy and get out of my hair tonight. I’m like this close,” he pinches two fingers together to show “to scoring and you both have been fucking it up every chance you can get. I swear to god.”

Eddie waves you off as he makes his way back in, and you can feel the shift in energy between you and the bouncer you’ve been wanting all night.

Steve’s quiet the whole walk up the stairs to your apartment, fuming with anger and embarrassment, the confidence from before gone while the bruise on his jaw deepens and he cradles his bleeding knuckles.

“This is me,” you break the silence cringing, your voice amplified in the walls of the narrow hallway while you dig out your key.

“Thanks for this, angel,” his words come out in just above a whisper but at least it’s something.

The endearment has a smile creeping across your face and you finally dare to turn around to get a look at him after you hear the click of your lock. You press your back against your open door, it’s your turn to extend an invitation.

“Anytime Stevie.”

His face softens the minute he lays his eyes on you again, jealous of the way you bite your bottom lip sweetly, he wishes it was him.

You let Steve into your world one heavy boot at a time, locking the door behind you. Watching the way his dimmed eyes brighten, curiosity winning over any leftover irritation. The ghost of a smirk twitches at the corners of his lips while he walks the small space of your studio taking everything in. The neon sign outside your window is the only light that illuminates it, shadows dancing off trinkets on shelves and pictures on walls, he was getting a glimpse of you.

He stops in the middle of your room, right at the edge of your bed. The dark denim and leather that cover him are a stark contrast against your baby blue rug, but you think he looks like he belongs here. You watch the way he takes in your hastily made bed, licking his lips when he sees a pair of panties that didn’t quite make it in the laundry basket in the corner. The radio you’d forgotten to turn off plays a commercial, filling the space between you, and you aren’t prepared for when he puts his full attention back on you again after not having it for the past twenty minutes. Your body responds immediately to the playful glint in his eye.

“Cute place, for a cute girl.” He grins, running his good hand through his hair before he walks over to the window to take a look at your view.

“I bet you say that to all of em’,” you tease because it’s easier to do with his back to you. Making your way to the bathroom, nerves burst like butterflies in your stomach.

“You’re the only one baby.”

His response is quick as he turns around, the flirting you’d grown accustomed to coming back like a raging storm. He watches your hips while you walk the short distance with a heavy stare that covers every part of you. Leaning against the door frame with your curves on full display, something shifts behind his eyes. Flipping the lightswitch, white beams break apart the pink, highlighting even more of you for him to drink in.

“Come on handsome, let’s get you patched up.��

His cheeks flush at the new nickname and it's his turn to bite his lip in a shy smile for you.

It doesn’t take more than a few steps for his long legs, the wood creaking under his weight. Pressing your back to the frame, he stops in front of you with one foot over the threshold and the other still in your room. He takes up so much space. His biceps flex when he reaches for your hip, tugging you even closer, you can smell the menthol still lingering on his breath. On instinct your palm hits his chest, muscles dancing under heated skin as you tilt your chin up to meet his eyes. Squeezing at your softness before he speaks, he lets his middle finger dip under the top of your skirt.

“I really meant it when I said thank you back there. Just need you to know that.” His finger dares to dip lower, rubbing circles that make your back arch, hips pushing forward on a search for his. The curve of your stomach touches the cool metal of his belt buckle and the heat of his body sets fire between your thighs.

“I know you did,” your voice is sweet for him, the tone you know he likes while your hand moves down the dip between his pecs, “Thank you for sticking up for me.”

You can feel the coarse hair that starts at the top of his belly button where your hand stops, and you swear you feel him twitch in his pants. A second one of his fingers finds its way under your skirt and another subtle tug gets you even closer. So close that all you’d have to do is stand on your tiptoes for your lips to touch.

“Anything for you, pretty girl,” he breathes, spice and tobacco taking over. His adam’s apple bobs when he catches the way you start staring at his lips, the gloss on your own shimmering in the new light.

“Anything?” Quirking your brow with a smirk, your innuendo makes him moan and his hold on you tighten.

“Absolutely.” Ducking his head lower so his nose brushes against the bridge of yours, he dares you to make the first move.

“In that case…” Pressing your toes down to push yourself up, the playful glint in your eye goes unnoticed by him.

Your lips are a ghost, his top one barely brushing against your bottom, it's enough for him to taste the strawberry he wanted more of outside but not enough to satisfy. His eyes flutter closed waiting to feel their full plushness but your words bring him back to reality.

“Sit on the toilet for me.”

The specks of emerald shine again when his eyes snap open to see you flat on your feet with a grin. Groaning loudly with fake irritation, he lets go of you in exasperated defeat, letting his head fall back and hit the wood of the frame.

“What? We came up here for my first aid kit, didn't we?” You giggle after you say it, you don’t mean it.

“Sure, sure, yeah, yeah.” Nodding, he runs a hand through his hair while he looks around your bathroom.

It smells like your coconut body wash and it drives him crazy. He takes an unexpected step forward, his hand finding its way back to your hip to push you against the wall. One heavy boot between your wedged sandals, getting just close enough to kiss you. Is he going to?

It's your eyes that flutter closed this time, your fingers wrapping themselves around his belt loops again. He’s tentative with his injured hand when he uses it to cradle your jaw. His palm is soft as it covers half your neck, his thumb pushing up against your chin to tilt your face up to his. He runs the tip of his nose along your cheek and you feel your knees start to get weak, a whimper begging to fall from your parted lips.

“If that’s the only thing we’re here to do then we should get to it then, huh?”

Just as quick as he invades your space, he leaves it. The porcelain of your toilet seat cover clunks loudly when he drops himself on it. Spread out like on the stool outside, he takes over the room, leaving you to catch your breath with a smug grin.

It’s a staring contest with narrowed eyes after that, but the twitch of your lips tells him you aren’t actually mad. He snorts when you clear your throat to regain your composure, purposely ignoring the obvious when you bend over to open the cabinet under the sink, pulling out the bright red zip up bag.

“We need to wash your knuckles first, then I’ll put some ointment on them and wrap it up for you. We’ll keep it that way for the night and we can check on it in the morning.” The words leave your mouth before you can stop them and he catches the slip up instantly.

“Oh? You need to keep me overnight for observations?”

You bite your lip to try and hide your smile, grabbing a washcloth running it under hot water instead of looking at him.

“You know what I meant, I’ll come check on it tomorrow when you get to work.” You don’t even believe your lie, and the toothy smile you catch from the corner of your eye tells you he doesn’t either.

“But nurse, I don’t know. I think I should stay, I got hit in the face too. Concussions you know? I really shouldn’t be alone tonight.” He lays it on thick, eating up the way he sees you loving it spreading across your face when you ring out the soapy rag.

You don’t try to hide it when you finally face him, or when you settle between his legs for the second time tonight. The new position has him eye level with your chest, easier access to his lips. You hold your palm out for him, your hand disappearing completely when he drapes his wounded one over it.

“Concussion, huh? Are you feeling light headed Steve?” You play along giving your best impression of a medical professional.

He hisses when you press the damp cloth to his knuckles, sucking in air between his teeth when you start to clean. The soothing circles the pad of your thumb rubs on the side of his hand is almost enough to distract him from it.

“Yeah, but that started before I got hit.”

You finally dare to meet his gaze, a flattered smile spreading wide across your face that you try to play down with a roll of your eyes.

“Hmmm,” you hum to yourself, deciding not to give in just yet as you switch from the rag to the ointment, getting the bandaging and medical tape out.

“I mean, you’re the professional honey. You tell me.” You feel his good hand tug at the bottom of your skirt while you smear the neosporin on his knuckles with a q-tip, his long fingers flexing at the cooling effect.

“It started before you got hit?” You question with a fake pensive expression, gently taking his palm in your hand to start the wrapping process.

“Yeah, you see, this girl hit me with a door earlier. Knocked me clean off my stool.” He makes the motion of him falling with a swipe of his hand, “ and I haven’t been the same since if I’m being completely honest.”

It takes everything inside you to not give him the satisfaction of a laugh, the way you met coming back to the forefront of your mind.

“Some would argue putting your stool in front of the door like that is kinda stupid, but that's just my professional opinion.” Your shrug earns a loud laugh from him and you relish in it, promising yourself you’ll get him to do it again.

“All done.” You let go of his hand and he already misses you holding it, but the proud look on your face is a good distraction while you admire your handy work.

He holds it up, and you still can’t get over just how big they are. Curling his fingers in before extending them, he only winces slightly from the pain. The pressure of the bandage already helping. He jumps slightly when the backs of your fingers smooth over the fresh bruise forming on his jaw, the stubble tickling your skin. His eyes watch yours as they rake over the damage, the softness of your touch almost enough to make his eyelids heavy when you stroke the sore spot again.

“What do you think, huh?” His question comes out quiet, the playful edge gone while both his hands find the back of your legs. Rough fingertips run up your calves, catching the bottom of your skirt as they go, “Are you gonna keep me baby?”

A shiver runs up your spine when he hits the back of your thighs and you feel yourself getting pulled closer. He drags his nose up the bare skin of your sternum while his hands grab doughy handfuls just below the curve of your ass. The sound of your moan when his fingers get high enough to just barely graze the soaked material between your weakening legs sends him into overdrive. Growling, he nips at the tops of one of your breasts.

“Come on, tell me, what’s it gonna be?” Despite trying to sound confident, there’s a desperation in the way he asks. He knows you want it but he needs you to say it.

It’s when his fingers slip under the lace trim of your panties that you finally give in with a gentle grab of his chin. His eyes are black when they meet yours, the ends of his nails digging into soft skin.

“Yeah, I’m gonna keep you.” You give into an urge you’ve had since you laid eyes on him, tangling your fingers in his hair as you spread yourself open for his hands to wander.

He doesn’t hold back anymore and you’re reminded of just how tall he actually is when he stands up. His actions are quick and with purpose, the strength you knew was behind those muscles showing itself when he lifts you onto the edge of the sink with your skirt rucked up to your hips. He man handles you in a way no one ever has and you feel it light a fire in your gut. Impatient for his next move, you grab the collar of his shirt while his hands spread wide over the tops of your thighs, your lips finally getting to do what they’ve wanted all night.

It’s soft at first, both of you moving slow as you figure out what the other likes, careful not to hurt his jaw. One of his hands finds its way back to your cheek, the pad of his thumb rubbing the length of the bone while his tongue begs you to open up. He traces the top of your lip, shuddering at the taste of the strawberry and it makes him wonder if your skin tastes like the coconut he smells.

You give him the access he wants, your tongues meeting in the middle, making the fire that had been begging to consume you pour out from your fingertips that bury themselves into the roots at the nape of his neck. You need more. The hard length that has been fighting against the denim of his jeans presses hard into where you want his attention, your legs wrap around him - silently begging him to do it again.

One arm snakes around your lower back, holding you flush against his chest, the grind of his hips giving you the friction that makes you keen. A moan and a breathless “fuck” is what breaks your lips apart when his zipper catches your swollen clit with just the right amount of pressure. He uses his new found freedom to kiss down the length of your jaw, humming against your heated skin when you tilt your head to give him better access to all the sensitive places he can’t wait to discover. He sucks the soft spot behind your ear when you meet the next roll of his hips, your slides falling loudly off your feet to the tile floor.

“Steve,” his name comes out in a high pitch whine when he starts sucking a bruise in a place you know you’ll have to try and cover up for the next few days. He was marking you, and you could care less. You hold him there, encouraging more as his teeth graze your pulse point, a “baby” slipping past his lips when he finally pulls away.

He meets your eyes with flushed cheeks and messy hair and the kind of hunger that makes you melt.

“Let me take you to bed, let me take care of you,” he’s panting, his hold on you tightening so you can feel just how bad he needs this. A smirk spreads across his swollen lips when your hips shift in search for more, giving him the answer he needs along with the nod of your head.

Just as easy as he lifted you on the sink, he carries you to the bed, big hands cradling thick thighs before he lays you on your back. Your giggle fills the space in between heavy pants before TLC’s Creep starts playing over the speakers of the radio. His hands find their way to the bottom of his shirt, pulling it over his head and you watch an expanse of new freckles and moles get revealed to you. You want to kiss them all. They dot the spots next to the dark hair over his belly button while the thick thatch of chest hair you’d only gotten a glimpse of glistens with beads of sweat in the glow of the Foxy Lounge light.

His jeans hang low enough for you to get a glimpse of the veins protruding from the V shape that leads to the part of him that’s sure to make you forget your own name. His grin is cocky when he recognizes the expression on your face. Grabbing your ankle, he pulls you closer to the edge of the bed. The bottom of your foot resting on the soft hair of his chest while long fingers hold you in place. He keeps his eyes trained on yours while he starts to trail wet kisses down the inside of your leg. The stubble covering his jaw scratching along his path in the best way. He stops when he gets to the soft skin of your knee, nipping playfully, he smirks at the squeal it earns him before he drops your leg in favor of curling his fingers under the top of your skirt.

You lift your hips for him without him having to ask, and the flash of his teeth is almost enough to blind you. He’s slick with his movements, taking your panties too. You hear his breath catch in his throat when he sees the effects all his teasing has on you. His fingers grip at your thighs before pulling your sticky skin apart with a lick of his lips.

“Look at you baby, all this for me?” The last part of his question comes out in a groan when he swipes the pad of his thumb against your bundle of nerves, kicking up in his jeans when your legs shake in response. “So sensitive too. Let me make her feel good, yeah?”

He swipes his thumb against your clit again making your eyes shut tight and your hips buck.

“I need to hear you say it.” He keeps rubbing circles, applying just enough pressure for you to forget how to speak, “Come on, be a good girl for me.”

His other hand pulls down your tube top, breasts spilling out in the blush light for his eyes to devour. He groans at the sight, his other hand coming up to cup the soft flesh feeling the way your nipples pebble against the warmth of his palm.

“Steeeeve, please.”

You’re whining for him and it makes his brows pinch together, feeling drunk off you.

“God angel, you’re fuckin’ beautiful you know that?” He emphasizes his question with his hands, giving your sides a squeeze while his eyes roam every dip and curve of your body. “Turn around for me? I wanna see all of you.”

The look on his face makes you decide that you’ll never deny him anything he asks, giving him a nod, you run your hands up his arms, nails dragging across the light hair before you push yourself up to get on all fours.

You feel completely exposed to him like this, all the secret places of your body on full display. He’s quiet for a minute and it’s almost enough for your nerves to get the best of you until you feel his palm find the apple of your ass. Fingers digging into doughy flesh, a groan loud enough to drown out the music erupts deep from his chest.

“Baby, baby, babyyy,” he emphasizes the last endearment with another handful before pulling your cheeks apart to get a better look at your dripping cunt, “Prettiest pussy I’ve ever fuckin’ seen.”

Your hips wiggle at his words, your walls fluttering around nothing while the cool air from the overhead fan hits your heat, sending goosebumps dancing across your supple flesh. A dark chuckle leaves him when he sees how much power his words have over you. His knees hit the side of the mattress, one hand hooking around your hip while the other runs down the dip of your spine giving you a light push when he hits your shoulder blades until you're bent over for him.

“She likes when I talk to her, huh?” his voice is low, mesmerized when you start dripping on the bed for him and he’s barely touched you, “She likes when I call her pretty doesn’t she?”

The moan that leaves your mouth is pathetic and he wishes he could record it.

“Playing hard to get all night, but look at you.” His good hand comes down hard enough on your ass for the fat to jiggle and you to fist handfuls of your comforter because of it, “Making such a filthy mess and I haven’t even put my mouth on you yet.”

His grip is rough when he tugs your hips, the outline of his dick pressing into you, the denim scratching against your clit in a way that has your eyes rolling in the back of your head.

“Tell me how much you want my mouth baby, tell me how much you want me to make you cum.” He grinds against you again, only this time making sure to apply the kind of pressure that makes your back arch.

“Fuck - Steve, please I want it. I’ve wanted it all night. I’ve wanted it all night,” you're babbling as he circles his hips, fingers kneading your soft skin.

Satisfied with your answer he mumbles a “so good for me” as he pulls away he gives you another light slap to your ass - signaling for you to scoot up, your mattress dipping behind you when he gets on his knees.

Big hands spread you apart, your forehead hits the comforter when you feel the heat of his breath against your slick folds. Your walls flutter, begging for his attention when his tongue runs a long stripe up your slit. He hums at the taste before he does it again, this time making sure to circle your clit before lapping up everything you were drenching him with like he was thirsty for it.

“Oh my god,” you huff into your blankets, toes curling when he starts an assault against your bundle of nerves, the pointed tip of his nose pressing deeper into your entrance as he gets lost in the sounds he’s pulling from you.

His fingers stretch across the tiger stripes on your butt cheeks, pulling you even further apart to give him better access. The coil inside you already threatening to snap when he sucks hard on your clit. He lets it go with a loud pop, smirking to himself at the way he has your body shaking from overstimulation already.

“Taste so fuckin’ good. Strawberries, just like your lips.” He groans, inhaling your scent like a man starved, his good hand coming down on your cheek again only this time a little harder pulling out another broken moan from you.

“Can I taste all of you pretty girl?”

There’s zero hesitation when you say ‘yes’, in fact it’s a little desperate. He could have whatever he wanted from you now. Not even sure what he means, your brain’s too fuzzy with lust to comprehend anything until you feel the tip of his tongue circle a place you’d never let anyone else go before.

“Holy shit - Steve.” The new sensation sends another wave arousal to your dripping core, a needy whine following it when he does it again.

“This okay?” He kisses the curve underneath the apple of your cheek, the softness of his voice comforting you while he checks in.

“God, it’s, it’s -“ He gives you another kitten lick and it makes your eyes roll in the back of your head, “It’s more than okay - Jesus Christ.”

Too lost in the feeling of him testing the tightness of you with his tongue, you aren’t expecting his thick finger to start circling the entrance he’d been neglecting, the one you need him to fill the most. Your silk walls welcome the intrusion with ease, the stretch only stinging a little when he pushes to the last knuckle while his tongue starts getting a little more bold. Your back arches when he groans against you, curling his finger to hit the spot only you’d ever been able to find with ease. He adds a second digit when you start bucking against his face, the new addition almost makes you run away. He tsks at you from buried between your butt cheeks, one large hand locking you in place when he starts feeling you get close.

“Give it to me,” he demands, coming up for air. Fingertips relentless against the spot that has you squelching loudly.

His mouth returns to the sensitive part of you, tongue circling your tightness in a way that has you finally snapping. Your walls constrict, wrapping around his fingers while your vision goes white. Your body freezes, the orgasm overwhelming your muscles with a violent shake, his name falling from your lips like it’s the only word you know. You feel him grin against you, the movements of his fingers only slowing down but never stopping, milking every last drop you give him.

“So good, so pretty when you cum baby,” he mumbles praises, his lips kissing anywhere they can reach while your body comes down from its first high.

You feel his weight leave the mattress, hear the metal of his belt buckle clinking followed by the low thump of his jeans hitting the floor. You find enough strength to look over your shoulder and it’s enough to make you whimper. Steve’s big. Dark hair at the base, it’s thick and curved, the pretty pink tip leaking just for you. The long vein that runs up the side pulses when he gives it a couple of tugs before his knees hit the mattress again.

His hands spread over your hips pulling you closer before he starts trailing kisses up your back, the silver of his chain making you shiver as it runs up your spine till his lips stop right at your ear.

“You ready for me?”

Your eyes meet his and they’re pitch black, tucking your bottom lip between your teeth, you know yours looks the same when you give him a nod but you know that’s not going to be enough for him.

“Come on, you know what I need,” his tone is mocking as he grabs his cock at the base, swiping his head through your folds, smirking at the way you try to suck him in, your body greedy for him.

“Please, please, please, please.”

All your self respect goes out the window when he pushes the tip in and you can’t stop repeating yourself. The stretch is already bigger than his two fingers and he wasn’t even half way in yet and for a brief moment you wonder if he’ll even fit.

“Fuck - baby.”

He moans as he pushes further, sheathing himself half way and he feels the way it makes your legs shake. His hand sneaks around your waist to find your clit, slippery fingers rubbing circles to get you to open up more as he rolls his hips one more time bottoming out. He groans so loud you’re sure anyone who might be smoking outside of the bar can hear him.

“Holy shiiiit, I’ve never had pussy like this.” He stills, adjusting to how tight you feel, and it’s his turn to babble as you constrict around him making him twitch - dangerously close to cumming already.

“You feel so good Stevie,” you whine as you push back against him, taking his length even deeper, feeling every curve and ridge of him against your walls.

He pulls out half way before slamming back in and it makes him curse under his breath before he does it again, only harder.

“God, fuck- this is all mine now, yeah?” he mutters, an angry edge to his words when he thinks about Devin getting to do this.

“Mmhmm,” your answer is automatic, no thoughts behind your eyes while his cock fills you in the way you fantasize about when you touch yourself.

“That’s right baby, it’s mine. You’re mine.”

His thrusts get aggressive as he gets closer to his release, your slick making it easy for him to slide almost completely out before pushing back in. The rough hair covering his pelvis rubbing your clit at the same time his tip reaches the same spot his fingers pulled your first orgasm from.

“Shit, Steve, right there.” Your jaw goes slack, eyes closing tight when he hits it again, your words spurring him on while he tries to re-grip his hold on your sweat-kissed skin.

“Yeah? you want more?” He makes sure to put all his attention where you want, slowing his hips just enough to hit it even harder. “I’ll give you more.”

Steve tilts his head to the side watching how you wrap around him, and the way he barely has to push back in, your greedy walls doing almost all the work when he finds the perfect pace that has you twisting the sheets.

He huffs out a cocky laugh and it makes you tighten in response, tears pricking the corners of your eyes.”Yeah, I know baby. I know. You gonna cum again for me?”

“Uh-huh,” you manage to get out with a nod but it’s not enough for him, he needs you loud enough for Devin to hear from across town.

The sound of skin slapping against skin drowns out the music, keeping his stamina up despite the twitch of his cock, he bends over, somehow getting deeper, the cool metal of his chain dragging across your back while one hand snakes under your waist. His fingers are unrelenting when they find their way to your puffy clit again, applying just enough pressure to get your legs to shake for him.

“I’m gonna ask again, are you gonna cum for me?” He keeps his voice even, but he knows he’s not gonna last much longer, especially not when your cheek hits the mattress and you meet his eyes looking like that.

“Yeah, god, yeah Steveee! Please, please, please.” You don’t even know what you’re begging for but it makes Steve’s resolve break.

The moan he lets out is loud enough to echo off your wall, warmth flooding your insides as he cums hard enough to collapse against your back. It’s enough to send you over the edge for the second time. Your walls fluttering enough to make his nails dig crescent moons into your hips with a low “fuck” escaping him as you milk him for more with the sweetest chant of his name he’s ever heard.

“That’s it baby.” He coos lips placing sloppy kisses along the your shoulder blades when you collapse against the mattress, your bodies tangled in a way you don’t have the energy to leave quite yet.

The radio cuts out leaving just the sound of the two of you trying to catch your breath, you can faintly hear ‘Pony’ playing from the bar below but the sound of a car driving past quickly snuffs it out. You feel his nose nudge against your ear, a slow lazy smile creeping across your face when his lips brush your temple.

“I don’t think you have a concussion, but you better stay the night just in case.”

His laugh vibrates against your back, a toothy grin pressed to your skin.

“It’s always better to be safe than sorry,” he agrees. The response you somehow managed to conjure up gets lost on your tongue when both your long forgotten Tamagotchi’s go off in his abandoned pants in a matching tune you’d never heard before.

“Our babies need daddy, honey,” he groans, slowly lifting himself up on his elbows.

You roll your eyes with a snort as he trails kisses down your back only wincing slightly when he pulls himself out. Folding your arms under your head, you still can’t bring yourself to move, but the view of him naked and still semi hard while he holds the two digital pets in his hand with a confused expression isn’t one you really can turn away from.

“What?” Your curiosity is piqued when his eyes grow big.

“No fuckin’ way,” he mumbles more to himself than you, “I didn’t even know they could do this.”

“What??” The irritation is clear in your voice, the feeling of being left out turning you into a brat.

“Umm, I think they had babies… yep. Marty definitely got her pregnant.” The smile on his face gives away just how excited he actually is and you hate to admit that it’s contagious.

“Well we’re gonna have to figure out a child support plan I’m afraid. Daisy’s a free woman Steve.” The serious delivery makes him do a double take before he narrows his eyes.

“Child support? No, we're raising these kids together. So I’m gonna need you to care a little bit about keeping her alive. It's not just you here honey.” He tosses you the toy before jumping back on the bed pulling your body into his chest with ease, “I’m afraid you’re never getting rid of me.”

---

#my writing #steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington one shot #eddie munson

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canirove · 5 months ago

Text

Rice, Rice, baby | Chapter 1

Summary: Liv and Declan, Declan and Liv, or the story about how a born and raised Tottenham girl falls in love with an Arsenal player... and its consequences.

Author’s note: Best way to celebrate my birthday? By sharing a new story about my beloved 🥳🫶🏻 I started writing this story back in October after making this gif (that's how Declan looks on this first chapter), and I got so inspired that I even managed to write like a script with everything I wanted to happen from beginning to end, which doesn't happen very often or never tbh 😅 I hope you like it as much as I do, and as always, thank you for reading! 💜

Next chapter

Masterlist

"And don't forget about the national team staying with us next week. We need to be at our best, the club wants them to keep coming here and not go back to Carrington or any other training centre" our boss says.

"We always are at our best."

"I know, Alex. But you know what I mean.”

"Yeah, we have to kiss their asses" he mutters.

"Shh" I tell him, hoping our boss hasn't heard him.

"You know it's true" he whispers. "Since we don't have enough with our princesses, now we'll have new ones. And I'm sure they are even more annoying."

"If you dislike football and this job so much, why don't you quit?"

"I don't dislike football, Liv. I dislike football players, it isn't the same” Alex says. “And I don't quit because Tottenham is the team me and my dad support, they happen to pay really well, and I need the money. Besides, what will your dad say? He helped me get this job, I can't disappoint him."

"He'll survive" I chuckle.

"I don't think so. If I'm not here, who will make sure his daughter doesn't end up sleeping with a football player? Especially now that we are gonna have some Arsenal ones in the building. They are the enemy."

"That is so stupid."

"The rivalry between Tottenham and Arsenal isn't stupid, Liv. Please show some respect."

"Whatever" I reply, trying to focus again on what our boss is explaining.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"Ready to meet our new princesses?" I ask Alex.

"No."

"Well, too late. They are here" I say when the doors of the cafeteria open and the players from England's national team start walking in, Harry Kane leading them.

"Urgh, not him" Alex groans.

"Shut up and get to work. And don't forget to smile."

"I don't want to smile at him. Or at any of them."

"Hello, guys. Nice to see you again."

"Harry, hi!" I say. "How are the Germans treating you?"

"Good, all good. How are you around here?"

"All good too" I smile. "Same as always?"

"Same as always, Liv."

After Harry some other players like Rashford, Stones or Bellingham also come get their orders, and then…

"Hi, what can I get… you" I say, getting lost in the most beautiful blue eyes I have ever seen.

"A latte, please" he smiles.

"A… a la… a…" I mumble.

"Liv… Liv… Olivia!" Alex says, hitting my arm.

"Ouch! What?"

"His order" he says, nodding towards the blue eyed God in front of me. "Didn't you hear him?"

"I… Yes. A latte."

"That's it" he smiles again, the most stupid giggle ever leaving my mouth. What an amazing first impression, Olivia.

"I… Umm…" I mumble again.

"Liv, hey! Long time no see!"

"Madders, we saw each other three days ago" I say, my brain remembering how to work after hearing his voice.

"It feels like an eternity" he smiles. "Have you met Dec yet?"

"Uh?"

"Mr. Declan Rice. The most expensive English football transfer in history" he laughs, wrapping his arm around the blue eyed God's neck and messing up his hair, somehow making it look even better than it already did.

"You… what?"

"You hadn't recognized him?" Madders says. "I know he's had a big glow up, but he hasn't changed that much since the Euros."

"Yeah… I…" I say, feeling my cheeks on fire and the stupidest person in the world. How did I not recognize one of England's best players?

"Anyway, can I get the same as always?"

"He asked first."

"But he plays for Arsenal and I am a Tottenham boy, Liv. What will your dad say?" Madders smirks.

"Her dad?" Declan asks with a confused look.

"He's been working for Tottenham since before we all were born and hates anything Arsenal" Madders explains. "So if he finds out that you are favouring him over me…"

"You are so annoying, James" I say, rolling my eyes.

"Yet you love me" he smiles. "So, can I get my usual?"

"No" I say, turning around and getting Declan's order ready.

"You are so rude, Olivia…"

"Yet you love me" I reply, making Declan laugh. "Your latte."

"Thank you, Liv" he smiles as he takes his cup, our fingers barely touching but being enough to make my face burn once again.

"You're welcome" I giggle. You are so lame, Olivia. Dear God.

"Can I get my coffee now or are you gonna keep smiling at each other like two teenagers in love?" Madders asks.

"What?" Declan and I say at the same time.

"Flirting with an Arsenal player, Liv… What will your dad say?"

"Shup up, James" I say, turning towards the coffee machine to hide that my face now must be the same colour as Declan’s Arsenal shirt.

"You are an idiot, bro" I hear him say before walking away.

"What? Why? What did I say? Liv, hey. What did I say?"

"Just go drink your coffee, James" I sigh.

"But…"

"Go."

"You two are so weird… Made for each other" he winks, making me roll my eyes again.

Once I'm done with all the orders, I can't help but check around the cafeteria looking for Declan. During the Euros he had already caught my eye, but he didn't look as hot as he did right now. He was definitely aging like fine wine.

When I finally spot him, he's sitting next to other Arsenal players, a soft smile on his lips while sipping his coffee. And then… Then he turns to look at where I am. At me. And his smile grows wider, making my knees feel like jelly.

"Best coffee ever" he mouths, remarking each word.

"Thank you" I reply, definitely smiling like an idiot.

"Olivia, Olivia, Olivia…"

"Holy shit, Alex" I jump when I hear him next to me.

"Flirting with an Arsenal player at work? And him among them all? Your dad is gonna be so disappointed…"

"Shut up, Alex" I say, giving him a push that doesn't move him from where he is standing. "I'm gonna go check that we aren't running out of anything, you know how picky the boss is with that."

"Yeah, run away."

"Fuck you" I reply, showing him my middle finger and hoping no one from the national team has seen it. The least thing I need right now is someone complaining to our boss because of my bad behaviour.

As I leave, I can't help but look at Declan one last time, and to my surprise, he also is looking at me. And when our eyes meet…

"Holy shit" I whisper. Can you get turned on by a wink? Because I'm pretty sure that just happened.

#declan rice #declan rice fanfic #declan rice imagine #declan rice x reader #football fanfic #football imagine

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allthelovehes · 7 months ago

Text

Enemies at Nine, Lovers by Five* | Part 2

Summary: Harry and Y/N suddenly need to fly out to Portugal for work and their boss only booked one (twin) room because the hotel was overbooked..

Pairing: Coworker!Harry x reader

Word count: 6.2K

Warnings: Unprotected sex, smut, slight dom if you squint, mentioned being a good girl maybe once, Y/N is a bitch but she likes it rough.

Support my work by joining my Patreon!

A/N: I'm still very new to this enemies to loves trope so if its not as good, please don't come for me. Also, let me just tell you once again.. Wrap it before you tap it :')

The next day when Y/N arrives at work, Harry is already seated behind his desk. She doesn't even look at him as she sets her belongings down and settles into her own chair. The silence between them is deafening, and the tension is palpable. It's obvious that they're both thinking about what happened last night, but neither of them is willing to bring it up. It's as if they have silently agreed to pretend that it never happened.

It's a tense morning, but they somehow manage to finish the presentation they had to prepare for the board meeting later that day. After lunch, Y/N is seated in the conference room, anxiously waiting for the meeting to start. Harry is sitting next to her, his posture dominant and confident. He is sitting in the exact chair he pushed aside just hours ago to make room for him to kneel down and eat her out. Y/N swallows hard and forces herself to focus on the matter at hand.

The rest of the board members enter the room, and the meeting begins. Y/N starts the presentation, her voice shaking slightly as she talks about their company's progress. Harry watches her, his eyes glued to her lips. He can't help but imagine her beautiful mouth wrapped around his cock. He shifts uncomfortably in his seat, willing himself to stay focused.

Harry gets up and walks over to the large screen, touching the small of Y/N's back in the process. It's the briefest of touches, but it sends a jolt of electricity through her body. She can feel her cheeks flushing, and she prays that no one will notice. Harry takes over the presentation, his voice steady and authoritative. She can't help but admire his confidence and command. She wonders if he feels the same way about her.

After the presentation is over, the board members file out of the room, their voices low and murmuring. Harry and Y/N are left alone once again. They gather their things and make their way to the door. Just before they exit the room, Harry turns to Y/N. He doesn't say anything, but the look in his eyes tells her everything she needs to know. He wants her. And he's not going to stop until he has her.

Y/N swallows hard, her heart racing. She knows she should walk away, but she can't. She wants him too, and he is literally blocking her only way out. Her breath quickens, and she feels her resolve crumbling.

“You did so good.” Is all he says, before he exits the room, leaving her alone with her thoughts.

Y/N has to admit to herself, his praise turns her on. She knows she should not allow this to happen, but she can't help herself. He's all she can think about. She makes her way back to her desk and finds Harry already returned to his own desk in front of hers.

“Do you want a cup of coffee?” She asks, trying to act normal. Although this isn't normal for her at all. Y/N isn't the type of colleague to retrieve coffee for her coworkers. She prefers to be the one receiving it, not the one bringing it.

“Sure.” Harry says, his tone is neutral, not betraying any of his emotions. Y/N nods and leaves. The moment between them doesn't go unnoticed by their colleagues, and she can hear them whispering amongst themselves.

Y/N returns with two cups of coffee and hands one to Harry. Their fingers brush, and she feels a shiver run through her body. She hopes he doesn't notice.

“Thank you.” He says, his voice barely above a whisper. “Y/N.”

The way he says her name sends shivers down her spine. She can't help but remember the way he moaned it last night, his voice thick with desire. She bites her lip and turns away, willing herself to calm down.

“You're welcome.” She replies, trying to keep her voice steady. She busies herself with her work, but she can't focus. All she can think about is Harry and what happened between them. The memory of his touch and the way he felt inside her are burned into her mind, and she knows she will never be able to forget it. ***

“Fucking hell.” Y/N curses as she opens an incoming e-mail from their boss.

“What is it?” Harry asks.

“Check your mail.”

Harry does and curses too. The client for which they are currently working was supposed to fly in for their final presentation. Now they have to fly out to the client instead.

“That means we're going on a trip.” Harry says.

“I hate travelling.” Y/N groans.

“Come on, it could be fun.” Harry replies.

“Fun? I can't stand travelling and flying. It's the worst.” Y/N replies.

“Then let me distract you.” Harry whispers.

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, you know exactly what I mean Y/N.” Harry says.

Y/N feels her heartbeat speed up, her body instantly reacting to his words. She knows exactly what he means, and the thought of it excites her. But she can't. Not again.

“Don't.” She says, her voice barely audible.

Harry doesn't say anything, just stares at her. His eyes are full of promise, and she can't resist. She knows she shouldn't, but she wants him. And he wants her too.

The e-mail also said how they can drop by their boss' office if they have any questions, he's supposedly available until 5 PM. Y/N and Harry make their way there. Even though they don't have any questions they knock anyway.

“Come in.” Their boss' voice sounds muffled through the closed door. Harry opens the door and Y/N quickly slips through, he swiftly closes the door behind him after he takes a good look at her round ass.

“Hey guys, thanks for stopping by. Let me just finish this e-mail real quick and then we can talk.”

He's sitting at his desk typing away furiously on the keyboard. It gives Y/N and Harry time to sit down on the couch on the other side of the room. Y/N is aware of how close they are, their bodies are nearly touching. She can feel the heat radiating off of him and it's driving her insane.

After a few moments, their boss ends his typing and comes over to sit across from them, facing the couch. He claps his hands together and begins to explain more details about the trip.

“So, we're going to have to fly the two of you out to Faro, Portugal. Your meeting is at the Ocean Mar hotel, which is also where you'll be staying. Unfortunately, they didn't have a lot of room options available so we had to book you a twin room instead of individual rooms. I know it's not ideal but hopefully, you guys will still have a great trip. You can put all food and drinks on the room's tab and they will just add it to the bill at the end of your stay. Do you have any questions so far?”

“Twin room?” Y/N says, almost like a question. She glances over at Harry and tries not to blush at the image of sharing a room with him.

“Yes, that's right. Two queen beds. Now, with the potential hotel mix-up, there is a chance that there may be some other rooms available last minute, so they are keeping an eye out and will try their best to switch you if necessary. But they also had to be upfront about their current room inventory for booking purposes, so I didn't want you to get your hopes up too much.”

“No, that's okay. I understand. Thank you.” Y/N says quietly. The thought of sharing a room with Harry, even a room with two beds, is a lot to process. They might have fucked once, but they aren't really the best of friends.

“You're welcome. You'll be flying out on Friday, so make sure to pack accordingly. You'll have some time to do some sightseeing if you'd like, the hotel is in a pretty nice area, and it's very touristy. And the big meeting is on Monday. Therefore we booked a return flight on Tuesday morning.” Their boss continues.

“Sounds good, thanks so much.” Harry replies, always the professional.

“Of course. I know this all happened last minute but I think you'll have a great time! I'll look forward to hearing all about it when you guys get back.”

“Thanks again!” Y/N says, and she and Harry get up to leave. They walk out of the office and back to their desks to pack up their stuff.

“Looks like we're going on a little vacation Y/N.” Harry says, grinning at her.

“Looks like it.” She replies, returning his smile. She can't deny that she is secretly looking forward to it. ***

Before they know it, it's Friday afternoon and they're heading towards the airport. Their boss arranged a taxi to pick them up and drive them there. Y/N is a wreck because she hates flying. She takes a deep breath as the plane gets ready to take off, gripping her seat and trying to relax.

Harry offers her his hand, which she gratefully accepts. They share a look as the plane takes off, and Y/N feels like maybe this flight won't be so bad after all. As the plane climbs higher into the sky, the tension between them builds. They are holding hands, staring at each other, both of them clearly thinking the same thing.

As the plane is in the air, the captain's voice comes on over the loudspeaker to welcome them.

“If I could have your attention, please. Welcome aboard EasyJet flight 239 to Faro, Portugal. My name is David, and I'll be your captain for today. The weather looks perfect for the trip ahead, and we're anticipating a smooth ride. Please enjoy your flight and thank you for flying EasyJet.” The voice cuts out as the plane stabilizes.

“See? That wasn't so bad.” Harry says. Y/N smiles, but she's not entirely convinced yet.

Harry orders himself a bottle of wine and offers to share it with Y/N. She reluctantly accepts, seeing as they are in fact, on vacation, and she could use a little bit of help to relax. The flight is about three hours long and goes fairly quickly. The wine helps, and they end up making a decent dent in the bottle.

Y/N is feeling relaxed and a bit tipsy by the time the flight ends. The cab pulls up and it's a short drive to their hotel. They check in and go up to their room to drop their bags. As Y/N opens the door and looks around, she finds that her stomach does a little flip. Sure enough, the room contains two beds, but they are quite close together. She swallows and tries to tamp down the feelings of excitement and anticipation growing in the pit of her stomach.

Harry doesn't say anything, but she can feel him watching her. They put their things down, quickly freshen up and head down to the restaurant for some dinner. After dinner, they decide to walk around the city and see some of the sights. It is relatively late at night but the sun is still setting and the sky is beautiful, and the temperature is warm and not too hot.

Y/N can't help but notice how close she and Harry are walking to each other as they make their way along the narrow streets, the sidewalks only big enough for two people to walk shoulder to shoulder. She tries to ignore the feeling and tells herself it's just because they need to stay close to make room for the other passersby. But the feeling lingers, a flutter of excitement.

It almost feels like they are two completely different people now that they are in a foreign country, with a warm summery breeze blowing through the air, the sound of music and laughter in the distance. Everything seems romantic and fresh, the air itself feels charged with possibilities and tension. It's as if they both subconsciously feel this and it makes it easier for them to navigate their strange new dynamic.

After their little stroll around town, they return to their hotel and head up to their room. They both take turns to use the bathroom and get ready for bed, not sharing a word with each other as the reality of sleeping just inches away from each other starts to set in. Before going to sleep they both sit down on their own bed, on their own respective sides.

Harry and Y/N finally lie down on their own beds in silence, both tired from the day's excitement. As Y/N pulls the blankets up and tries to get comfortable, she can't help but toss and turn, unable to find the perfect position. She sighs loudly and shifts again, her mind racing.

“You okay?” Harry asks, his voice low and deep.

“Yes. No.” She replies.

“What's wrong?”

“I'm fine, I just can't seem to fall asleep.”

“Me neither.” Harry replies. Y/N laughs softly. She can't believe that she and Harry are having this conversation, and can't believe that she's even admitting that she can't fall asleep. She turns around and finds Harry already staring at her, his eyes dark and full of intensity. Her breath hitches as the weight of the moment settles upon them.

“I think it's the plane.” She whispers, half-hoping that he'll leave the subject alone.

“You think?” Harry chuckles, he already knows she's full of shit. It's like he can feel the tension running from her body. “Y/N.”

A jolt goes through her body at the way her name sounds coming out of his mouth, the roughness and almost demanding tone. “W-what?”

“Come here.”

“Harry...”

“Come here.” Harry repeats, raising his voice slightly, letting his tone show how serious he is. And damn her but the dominant edge does something to her. She bites her lip and gets up to join him on his bed. He already has his duvet pushed to the side. When she finally slips underneath, he immediately gathers her up in his arms and buries his face in her neck. She doesn't fight it, instead, she wraps her arms around him and enjoys his warmth.

Luckily both of them had the decency to wear pajamas. Y/N is in a silk shortama set and Harry is wearing a plain white shirt and some sweat shorts. Being this close to him feels dangerous. He smells so good, and the weight of his muscular body pressed against hers is intoxicating.

“Thank you.” Y/N whispers after a few minutes of silence.

“For what?” Harry asks, his voice thick and laced with sleep. She shrugs.

“Just... for understanding. For not being mean to me.” She says.

“Mhm, see, you got that wrong there. I've never been the mean one.” He mumbles against her neck.

“Excuse me?” She replies, sounding as offended as a sleepy person can be.

“You're not a walk in the park, love.” He chuckles as he snuggles her closer to his chest.

“And you are?” She manages to get out, stifling a yawn.

“I guess not. But who cares? We're in Portugal, might as well have fun.”

“Fun.” She repeats softly.

“Yeah. For example, what's it called when you fuck your coworker and then you're sent off on a work trip and end up in the same hotel room?” He says, his lips now grazing the shell of her ear.

“A disaster?” She whispers.

“Or fun.” He hums before a big yawn escapes his mouth, shortly followed by her own.

Both of them stay quiet, with Harry holding her tightly and Y/N enjoying his embrace. Harry doesn't show it, but his heart is hammering in his chest. He knew that inviting her into his bed would make them repeat the past. Even as the distance between them closes, he tries to keep his cool. He fails. Miserably. He plants his soft lips on top of hers and kisses her.

Softly. Innocently.

“Goodnight, Y/N.” He says as he disconnects their lips. ***

The next morning Y/N and Harry wake up tangled in each other's limbs. And as if she doesn't remember what happened last night, Y/N freaks out. She throws a handful of curses around and rushes into the bathroom to freshen up.

“What the fuck are you doing in my bed?” She shouts at Harry through the door.

“Well, for starters it's my bed. You joined me in my bed.” He replies. She can basically hear him smirk. Fucker.

“Whatever.” She says. She opens the bathroom door and comes out with her toothbrush hanging from her mouth. “I'm mad at you.”

“Come back to bed, you're overreacting.”

“You jerk.”

“For the last time, it was your ass that came into my bed. Now, for the love of God, stop being such a bitch or do you need me to boss you around again?” His voice rings like a gentle threat. She smacks her lips together and avoids eye contact.

“No.”

“Jesus Christ, woman. I've been nothing but nice to you and you're...” He scoffs and it feels like she's back home. She can't help but grin. A small grin, but it's there. He notices and scowls at her. “Now you're laughing?”

“Harry, just...”

“Don't make me drag you back to bed so I can fuck a little sense into you because I promise you I will if that's what it takes.”

Y/N walks back into the bathroom to wash her toothbrush. “Get the fuck over yourself Styles.”

“Have it your way.” Harry growls from the bed. The tension in the air changes. He's fully aware of the fact that he basically threatened her but she loves it. Fuck, she even hopes he'll do what he said. Before she knows it, Harry's behind her, holding her in his strong grip, her back to his front.

“Ready to apologize?” He whispers, his lips brushing the shell of her ear. She closes her eyes and leans back against him, relaxing in his arms. She can feel the press of his hard cock against her lower back, and the knowledge that she turned him on sends a thrill through her body.

“I'd never.” She whispers, teasing him. She knows that Harry loves a good challenge. His hand comes around her throat, long fingers wrapping gently around her neck. She breathes a sigh and stretches her neck, looking at him from the corner of her eyes. Her body is completely surrendered to him, and a light shiver runs through her.

“I wasn't joking, Y/N.” He squeezes her neck slightly. “Do you need a reminder?”

“Of what?”

“Of how much of a good girl you can be. Or how submissive you actually are. How your pussy practically drips when someone touches you exactly the way you need.” His low voice rumbles through her.

“Fuck, Harry.” She gasps, arousal pooling between her thighs as his words send a jolt of desire through her. She can't help but arch her back, exposing her neck and pressing her ass against him even more.

His lips latch onto the exposed skin of her neck, sucking a mark into her flesh. He tightens his grip on her neck slightly, her breath coming in short gasps. Harry growls, mumbling darkly against her skin. She tries her best to stay standing, especially as her knees threaten to buckle under the touch of his hand. “Such a good girl. Undress yourself and go lie on the bed, now.”

She nods, his hand dropping from her throat as she moves toward the bed. Harry's eyes never leave her, watching as she strips down to her underwear. She settles on the bed, unsure of where to position herself. Without another word, Harry walks towards her, a dangerous glint in his eyes. She swallows hard as he grabs the neck of his shirt to pull it over his head.

“Let me make myself clear.” Harry's voice rasps. “You're going to be nice to me from now on. Especially here in Portugal. Do I make myself clear? I don't feel like wasting my time here when it could be so, so sweet.”

Y/N stares up at him, transfixed. Her lips part, her eyes wide as he slowly starts pulling down his sweat shorts. The realization of what is about to happen sinking in. Harry was on the rougher side with her the first time they fucked, but she didn't know he could be this dominant, this aggressive, and god did it turn her on.

Without another word, Harry stalks over to her and grabs her wrists, pinning them above her head. He presses his hips down against hers, his naked body flush against her almost-naked one. His lips claim hers in a rough kiss, and Y/N can't help but moan into his mouth. “You like that, don't you?”

Y/N nods, whispering a soft yes.

Harry trails his lips down her jaw, peppering open-mouthed kisses along her neck. He finds his spot below her ear and starts to suck a dark mark there. He doesn't care about the visibility of the marks as their meeting with the client isn't until Monday. Y/N's breath comes in sharp pants as she tries to stay still, her mind going fuzzy with desire. Harry lets her wrists go but the fear of punishment makes her not move them away from their position.

“Mmm.” He hums, obviously pleased with her obedience. Harry grazes his lips over the top of her chest, reaching around to unhook her bra and slide it off. Her body arches up into his, craving his touch. He continues his trail of kisses, leaving a wet path as his mouth finds one of her sensitive nipples.

He swirls his tongue around the hardening peak, kissing and biting gently. He shifts his hips slightly, sliding one of his legs between hers. He glances up at her, her eyes already closed in pleasure as he moves his hands to pinch at her other nipple.

Harry's hand trails down, fingers fiddling with the hem of her panties. Slowly he removes them, revealing her already wet cunt. Harry smiles and sits up to admire her exposed body. “Turn around.”

She immediately rolls over onto her stomach, burying her face in the pillow. Without warning, Harry spanks her, causing her to yelp and lift her head from the pillow. “Fuck.” She moans, the burn of his hand on her skin spreading a wave of pleasure straight through her.

He growls, unable to tear his eyes from her perfect ass. Y/N moves her hands to grip her fingers in the soft blankets beneath her, as Harry suddenly pushes his middle finger into her dripping centre. Her hips jerk against the bed involuntarily, seeking more contact.

“You're soaking, baby.”

“Fuck, Harry, please.” She whispers, beyond turned on. He starts a torturously slow rhythm, sliding his finger in and out of her warm cunt. She buries her face back into the pillow again and braces herself for a second spank that never comes.

“It's pathetic how wet you get from basically nothing. Just let me play with your nipples and you're gone.” He grabs her ass, his thick fingers digging into the soft flesh. “But you like that, don't you?” He finishes by giving a firm smack to her asscheek, causing a whimper to escape her lips.

“I want to hear you. Lift your face, love.” Harry whispers. She lifts her head, propping her chin on the edge of the pillow. Harry raises his body up on his knees, one hand still dipping his fingers in and out of her pussy while the other hand comes around to cover her mouth.

As Y/N tries to silence her whimpers, Harry easily slips another finger inside her slick entrance. She moans louder now, the vibrations reverberating through Harry's palm and urging him to go deeper, faster. He dips his head down to lightly bite her shoulder, earning him another deep moan as his rock-hard cock presses into her buttcheek.

“Let the neighbours know how much you enjoy getting fingered. Make sure they hear just how much you love my touch.”

“Fuck, Harry. You feel so fucking good. Oh!” She cries out as Harry increases his pace, moving his free hand down to her hip, gripping her roughly. He quickly removes his fingers from her sloppy pussy and Y/N whines at the loss.

“Did I ask you to complain?” He asks as he grabs her hips with both hands and juts her upward. Her ass now up in the air with her chest still pressed into the sheets. It feels submissive, her ass being up as if she is presenting her pussy to him. Not like he needs her to, he knows exactly where her pussy is.

“N-no.” She manages to answer.

“Good.” Harry grabs his cock, already leaking pre-cum and lines himself up. Without any warning, he thrusts into her, moving his hands from her hips to her waist, thrusting in and out at an ever-increasing speed. The lewd sound of skin slapping skin echoes in their hotel room and her eyes squeeze shut, as Harry does not hold back, pounding her into the mattress.

Y/N lets out a loud groan, burying her face in the pillows again to muffle her cries. But Harry's having none of it. He collects her hair and wraps it around his left hand, firmly yanking her head upwards, forcing her to keep her head up. A gasp escapes her lips, and her hands scratch at the blankets.

“Mmm, fuck!” She whines, her eyes tearing up from the feeling. Pleasure flows through her. She doesn't think he's ever fucked her this hard, and damn is she enjoying it. He's hitting deep spots inside her cunt she didn't even know existed, and the bruises he is sure to leave later are absolutely welcome.

Harry's thrusts continue, showing absolutely no signs of slowing. His cock pounds in and out of her, eliciting a high-pitched whine from her with each thrust. He pulls on her hair harder, angling her head so he can see her face as she's struggling to keep quiet. She keeps her eyes tightly shut, trying desperately to mask her groans of pleasure.

“Tell me how much you like taking my cock.” Harry says, his voice strained. “Tell me how badly you needed this. Tell me how much you love being my little slut.”

Y/N's body heats up at his words, her toes curling, and she silently curses him for making her talk. “I-I needed- ah- this so badly.”

“Shit, baby, yes. Say it again.”

“God, Harry, I need you- s-so fucking bad. Fuck.” She writhes beneath him, trying to escape the delicious torture. His pace is unforgiving, and his force hits her in just the right spots. His thrusts jerk her whole body, the loud smacking of their sweaty bodies colliding the only sound filling the room.

“Oh God!” She moans loudly, as Harry wraps one arm around her torso and pulls her up, his hand resting dangerously low on her throat.

“You need this, huh? This little cunt needs to be filled up?”

“Ah! Fuck, Harry.” She murmurs before a broken moan falls out of her. Her right hand holds onto his wrist tightly and her head falls back against his shoulder, her jaw slack in pleasure. She can feel her orgasm building within her, as this new position allows his dick to hit her G-spot repeatedly, shooting pure euphoria through her.

“Mhm, do you feel it? Right here?” He asks, one of his hands slipping down her body and pushing down on her lower stomach. She gasps, tears pooling in her eyes at the sensations he creates. Harry's hand slips further down her body, eventually reaching her most sensitive bundle of nerves and pushing gently against it.

“Ah!” A choked cry leaves her mouth and she freezes in his arms. She tries to catch her breath but all she feels is pleasure. Before she can stop herself, her head starts rolling against his shoulders, her mouth dropping open in a silent scream.

“That's it, baby. Come for me, wet my cock.” He groans in her ear as her hips start jerking, and her loud moans fill the room. “C'mon, scream for me.”

Y/N thrashes her head, eyes squeezing shut. A harsh cry leaves her as his rhythm continues, but her movements lose the rhythm, becoming uncoordinated. White light fills her vision, and an earth-shattering climax hits her, rolling over her and stealing her breath. Her orgasm floods her veins, every nerve ending lit up in ecstasy.

“Ooh fuck. Har... Shit!” Her hoarse voice bounces off the walls, the strength quickly leaving her body. Harry's arm stays tight around her, preventing her body from falling down onto the bed.

Harry removes his fingers from her clit, and Y/N relaxes into his embrace, humming happily as she catches her breath. Harry takes the opportunity to let her fall back down onto the mattress, his hands holding her hips steady as he slowly keeps thrusting into her.

Y/N cranes her neck around, her face flushed and expression smug. Harry tightens his grip, as he forcefully pushes his dick into her once more, her head falling forward at the feeling. Before he pulls out, slapping her ass once more before he roughly pushes her onto her back.

She is positioned with her shoulders on the edge of the comfortable bed, causing her head to hang slightly. She groans, her arms reach back to grab a hold of the blankets beneath her. Just as her grip tightens, Harry grabs her knees, pulling them apart and position her feet on either side of him, spreading her thighs apart.

He lines himself up with her wet entrance and pushes back into her, the new angle causing his dick to brush her sweet spot over and over again. She throws her head back, as her breasts bounce on her chest and she lets out a loud groan. Harry raises her leg up, her calf on his shoulder, foot resting on his collar bone.

“Holy shit.” He breathes, eyes firmly locked on her chest, and how erotic she looks. Her eyes meet his in surprise. She cries out in pleasure as Harry thrusts into her deeply. “You're so fucking perfect.”

She closes her eyes again, unable to handle the intensity in Harry's face as he whispers words of praise, calling her perfect, telling her how good her pussy feels around his dick. Harry grunts and the sound mixed with her pants, curses, and moans fills the room.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” She moans as his thrusts quicken, his brows furrowed and eyes closed tightly in concentration, and then moans spill from his lips.

“I-Oh my god-fuck baby, you feel so fucking good...”

“H-Harry.” She whines, voice uneven. She closes her eyes, feeling her inner walls flutter around Harry's thick cock. Harry readjusts his grip on her hips, pulling her closer. He moves one of his legs, widening his stance to give himself better leverage. To allow his thrusts to grow faster and stronger, Y/N's quiet noises change. They turn into loud moans and choked whimpers.

“T-too- Oh, too much.”

“You can handle this.” He croons, his voice strained and heavy. She nods, and Harry quickens his pace even more, angling his dick so he constantly rubs against that one spot. “God, your tits look so fucking good with how much they move. Drives me crazy.”

Her nipples are hard, grazing her skin and sending white-hot pleasure coursing through her. Harry reaches down and cups one of her breasts, her hand coming up to join him. She moans and writhes beneath him, throwing her head back when his thumb moves over her nipple, teasing it.

She whimpers, pussy clenching around his cock, suddenly overwhelmed by Harry's assault of pleasure. As soon as Y/N realizes what's happening, she brings her hand to her clit. She slips her hand between her thighs and starts circling her clit in a continuous pattern. She moans weakly, feeling herself clench down on Harry, letting him know how much his actions were working.

“Did you ask if you could do that?” Harry grits out, his hips pounding into her relentlessly. Y/N shakes her head but refuses to stop. Her fingers never break their movement.

“You're about to come again, aren't you? Holy shit- oh my fucking... Fuck, you little slut.” He whispers harshly, but he couldn't care less about her getting herself off at this point. She would if he'd stopped her, but it was undeniable that it turned him on, even more, knowing how eager she was to be stimulated while he took what was his.

“P-please, H.”

“Mhm.” His hips stutter slightly, as his focus wavers for a split second. “Do it.”

She whimpers, as she continues rubbing. Her hand moves in time with his movements as Harry gives himself completely over to lust. He slams his hips into hers, burying himself to the hilt on every thrust. He swears loudly, breath heavy and panting. He can hear her fingers on her clit rubbing incessantly, making it harder for him to hold back.

“Jesus Christ! It's... Fuck... Baby. Let go.”

A long, high-pitched moan falls from her lips as she throws her head back, cunt clenching around Harry's throbbing cock as she rides out her second orgasm of the day. Her right hand flies away from her clit as Harry sets a quick, punishing pace. She knows he is almost there, just needs a little more.

“Harry. C'mon. Come inside me.”

“Fuck, Y/N. You know I can't.” His mind is frantic, her words bring him one step closer to tipping over the edge. “That little mouth of yours will have to do it.”

It takes her a couple of seconds to realize what he means. She slides off the bed, a pleasurable shiver running through her, straight to her core as her feet touch the cold floor. It doesn't help her overheated body at all. She slowly gets down onto her knees. Her gaze meets his and the world stops for a second as their eyes meet, the tension running high between them.

Y/N is completely in his element now, not just doing what he wants but giving herself over fully. Harry reaches down, wiping a strand of hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear before grasping the back of her head. He runs his thumb over her lips, caressing her skin before pushing her lips apart. She slowly licks her tongue over his thumb.

“Good girl.” He quickly pushes his length into her mouth, straight to the back of her throat. His eyes roll back as he struggles to control himself. Y/N gags, her eyes watering up. Harry reluctantly pulls back just far enough to let her breathe through her nose.

The taste of her essence combined with the salty taste of Harry's pre-cum fills her mouth. She eagerly hollows her cheeks as Harry pumps his hips against her, not allowing her much time to think or move. She rolls her eyes back into her head, and she loses herself to her pleasure as he chases his own climax.

“Oh fuck. I-shit...” His thrusts are growing slightly uneven and without warning, he thrusts all the way into her mouth and pushes down on the back of her head, forcing her to take his entire length. His warm cum spills into her, thick and sweet on her tongue. Y/N eagerly swallows him down, looking up at him with teary eyes.

Harry shudders at the feel of her throat against his sensitive tip. His breathing slows slightly. “Ah.” He winces, letting go of her head and sliding out of her warm mouth. Causing a string of saliva mixed with cum to connect the tip of his dick to her mouth.

She sits down on the hotel room floor on her knees, panting for breath and her head spinning as she attempts to collect herself. Harry slides his finger over her chin, collecting some of his semen which is still dripping down her chin and sliding it onto her lips. She eagerly licks her mouth clean and the sight makes his blood surge through his veins, his heart thudding away in his chest.

“Good girl.” He presses lightly against her lower lip, but his eyes remain trained on hers. Y/N's expression softens, and as Harry removes his finger from her mouth, she lets her head drop down as if she can't even stand looking at him anymore. But the slightest tinge of pink on her face betrays her.

“Looks like you actually enjoy doing what I say.”

Y/N chuckles as her mind begins to race again. Suddenly she doesn't mind one bit that she has to share this room with Harry for the next couple of days.

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