#and i wanted to ask if they would like to swap seats with me so they could sit together

[klausysworld]

Hello there. I hope you're doing well. I didn't notice if you were taking requests, but my birthday is on January 9th, and I wanted to ask for a birthday request. I want to request birthday smut with Klaus. I'll leave it up to you, but could you add being tied up, blindfolded, breeding kink, and maybe it results in pregnancy? I'll leave the plot up to you. If you could do this, it would be a great birthday present. If you can't, I understand.

Happy Birthday!!!

Sensual Night

Klaus had been trouble since the moment he'd woken me up. His hands had been sliding along the skin of my thighs all day, his fingers tapping on my flesh as he eyed me through his lashes.

"I assure you, after dinner you'll get your real present, love." He murmured, leaning down to kiss my lips deeply, his tongue swirling around mine and making me drunk on his taste.

I got a different gift each hour of the day, ranging from a teddy bear to a sapphire necklace.

We went out to dinner with the whole family, Elijah and Rebekah giving heartfelt speeches between courses. By dessert Klaus's hand had worked its way under the skirt of my dress, his long slender fingers toying with the lace of my underwear and occasionally brushing over my wetness as if to prove the affect he had on me.

One of his hand held the bag of presents from his siblings and the other had a firm grip on mine as he lead us toward the hotel he'd booked. The woman at the desk practically jumped out of her seat when she saw Klaus's face, immediately getting the penthouse key card and offering to carry the bag of gifts but Klaus refused and took me himself.

The 'room' was absolutely beautiful. A suitcase of our things was already up there, and Klaus had me by the hips.

"Your birthday is definitely not over yet, my love. Not even close." He grinned, such a cruel grin as he stepped forward, guiding my steps backward until my shins hit the edge of a bed.

"You've already given me so much." I whispered but I couldn't help the smile creeping on my lips.

"I'd give you anything and everything." He murmured, his voice so low it made me groan as he shoved me back, my back hitting the mattress with a soft thud. I bit my lip as I looked up at him, letting out a squeal when his body hovered over mine. His hands yanked his own shirt off before he bent down, his mouth grazing the skin of my neck.

Wet kissed marked down between my collar bone and his warm tongue wetted the skin of my breasts before his teeth got to work, one button at a time until the front of my dress was completely open.

"I might never get over how gorgeous you are." He groaned, his teeth tugging at the thin material of my bra. One harsh jerk of his head had the fabric tearing and leaving me completely vulnerable to his mouth.

My eyes closed, a soft sig leaving my lips when his tongue enveloped my nipple. I was already soaked from dinner, my nipples had been hard almost the entire day. My body finally receiving the attention only he could provide was making my cunt weep.

It wasn't long before his mouth swapped over to the other breast and his hands were dragging my panties off my ass.

Our eyes met as he lifted his head, his lips swollen as he stared down at me hungrily, that same hunger he held when he was about to devour some poor soul. My hand reached for his face, letting him nuzzle into my palm like an animal.

"I love you." I whispered and a soft rumble vibrated through his chest and to me.

"I love you more." He countered making me smile again.

Fingers wrapped around the length of my wrist, pulling my hand from his face. Those blush lips of his kissed the veins along my inner forearm before his other hand grabbed the other. Both my wrists were lifted above my head and he leant down to suck his possessive marks into my neck.

"I have a few more little gifts for you, sweetheart. Sit up." He ordered, getting off me and leaning off to the side of the bed. I pulled myself up like he asked, doing one better and resting on my knees. A second later a thin black box was placed in front of me, Klaus's blue eyes staring back at me with dark intent.

I fiddled with the lid, pulling it off and looking at the neatly folded, soft, pink strip of material inside. "It's silk." Klaus revealed as his hands lifted the fabric up and brought it just in front of my face. "Close your eyes, love." He instructed but his voice was soft. I nodded and let my lips shut, only a second later feeling the gentle touch across my skin. I tried to see a moment later but darkness kept me from doing so. I breathed slow, my hands reaching to feel Klaus and he chuckled softly. "Those hands are the next to go, my love." He purred against my ear causing a shiver to run along my spine.

"What- what do you mean?" I asked quietly despite my body already thrumming with excitement; I knew exactly what he meant.

"Don't play coy, love." He breathed, I could hear the smirk on his face. "Don't fight me, be a good girl and you'll be satisfied." He chuckled, his hand stroking the skin of my back. "Hands and knees."

I did as told, settling on all fours before both my wrists were grabbed again. My face hit the bed in front of me, a huff leaving me and I knew he was grinning.

"Good girl. Stay still." He murmured, his hands pushing my thighs apart so that I could feel how spread out I was for him.

Both my wrists were pulled together, the same fabric that was tied round my head now bound my hands together too. I felt my lower abdomen tighten pleasantly at the mere idea of what was to come. "Klaus..."

"I know." He mumbled, I felt his hot breath of the base of my spine before his lips pressed kissed the skin of my lower back, down my ass before his tongue licked a long strip through me from behind making my legs quiver and my body to jolt.

"Oh-" I gasped and he hummed, his mouth moving sensually against my pussy. "Klaus..." I panted, my mouth open and pressed against the bed. "Oh fuck!" I whimpered.

"Mmm, someone's needy on her birthday." His voice chuckled from behind me before my clit was trapped in a pool of heat. My knees slid further apart making him chuckle as I got lower to the bed. "You're making it hard to taste you, sweetheart."

"I can't-" I moaned, struggling as his fingers dug into my hips, lifting me back up. His hand pat the top of my ass gently before sliding up my back, his hand touching one of mine and squeezing gently.

"Listen to me, love. Tell me exactly what you can hear hm?" He directed and I did as he said. My senses focusing more as my sight was limited. I could hear him breathing, the soft rustle of the sheets. My own breathing was the loudest, the air was blowing against the bed in fast puffs.

"Just us, I hear us." I mumble, my brows pulling together under the silk blindfold. "Your- your breathing is so steady."

"No love, yours is just a mess." He chuckled, his hand squeezing my hip. "What do you smell?" He asked and I focused again.

"Your special occasion aftershave" I whispered and he laughed.

"Can't even remember the name?" He teased and I shook my head. "Even though you picked it for me? How peculiar. Don't worry, love, you won't forget my gift to you."

I smiled to myself, feeling his hands stroke my sides.

"Now tell me what you feel." He uttered and just as I opened my mouth I felt him there, right where I needed him, pushing into me.

"Ahh..." I shuddered and he let out a soft groan too.

My hands clenched, my wrists tugged at my restraints weakly as he pushed the first few inches in. The stretch was so beautifully familiar. One of his hands wrapped round both my wrists, pushing me down into the bed so my back was curved in.

"What was that, sweetheart?" He grunted and I resisted a whimper.

"You- I feel you." I whined and he pushed harder, my face squishing into the bed. "I- I feel a sting, but I like it." I uttered and he hummed.

"I know you do, you like being bound and helpless; don't you love?" He murmured darkly and I couldn't help but nod. He chuckled again as his hips rose against my ass, his hips making a soft 'clap' against mine. I felt myself tighten, holding onto him as he slowly sheathed in and out.

"Mm...Klaus" I moaned, clenching without control and his breathing started getting a little messier. The rhythm of him moving inside of me was making me borderline scream against the mattress I felt his hips stutter and I panted, smiling slightly into the bed. "Please..." I whispered. "Please"

"I know sweetheart. You want to feel me don't you, love?" He chuckled, his voice hoarse now. He knew what I wanted and I knew he loved it to. "Ready, love?" He grunted and I nodded eagerly. "Gonna fill you up-" He groaned and I arched deeper, feeling him snug against me.

"Babies..." I uttered. "Gonna get me pregnant this time, please?" I whimpered and he let out a guttural sound.

"Yes, sweetheart. That's right- that's it" He moaned, his hand squeezing my wrists so tight they burned. My whole body felt as though it had fallen apart as he came and my pussy pulsed at a constant speed until I could finally focus on something other than how my body felt.

I could hear Klaus panting, feel his warm breath against the back of my neck before he shifted. His body wasn't so close, I couldn't feel his skin stick against mine. But I could feel his cock leaving me, a weak cry leaving me as I felt myself ache without him.

The ribbon around my wrists went loose, my arms fell to my sides. My body was lifted and I was settled back down on my side, his body holding mine to his front. A moment passed before a cool wetness wiped over my thighs making me flinch slightly. "Shh, it's just a baby wipe, love." He murmured. I nodded in faint understanding, being less cautious as he finished cleaning me.

The blindfold was finally removed, my eyes squinting a little before I gained my sight fully and I could see him properly.

His lips pressed a soft kiss to my forehead, then my cheek and down to my lips. The warmth of his mouth was always so comforting, the feel of his lips on mine, tongue around mine. He pulled back after a few minutes, allowing me to suck in a breath.

"Happy birthday, my sweet love." He uttered and I smiled.

"Thank you, Klaus." I relaxed back, my head going back down onto the pillow beneath and he hummed.

"You need a break, love?" He asked, a slightly amused tone.

"We're still going?" I asked, looking up at him and feeling a little giddy.

"You think I'd leave you to sleep after that? It's your night all night."

"All night?"

"All night."

"Do you think...maybe..." I trailed and he hummed, kissing the corner of my lips.

"I promise to put a baby in you tonight, my love. You'll be swollen with child before morning."

Klaus never failed to impress, especially not on my birthday.

[the-casbah-way]

i suppose i owe it to myself to not die but also to stop talking myself out of things that might make me happier because i would be a much better person for everyone around me if i were able to navigate the world in the way i want to because insecurity and bitterness and constant suicidalness do just make you not as kind sometimes i think. i would like to be confident enough in myself to speak and be seen and therefore be as kind as i feel i am on the inside. i hold back so many things because i am scared of being perceived so maybe if i let myself do the things that will help me be ok with being perceived then i will put more good out into the world. i always get hung up on the fact that i so badly want to be good and kind and i care so so much about other people but as it stands currently most people would not really bother too much if i wasn't here anymore because i'm so cut off from everything emotionally and physically. someone send me c.300 quid so i can pay for therapy and you can stop being subjected to posts such as these, by the way.

[chimivx]

“…i want you, bless my soul…”

Four months.

You met him on your first day in your first class, your professor the agitated type, the kind that gave you piles of homework with every lesson. He sat beside you, slipping into his chair right before the syllabus slid onto the table in front of you.

Dark hair cut short in the back lived a little more free in the front, on the top, growing into a messier, curlier mop as the weeks drew by, on and on. Tall, broad, and most definitely strong as hell, he was gorgeous. There simply wasn’t any other word for it, he walked into class every week with his golden skin aglow no matter where the sun lived in the sky. You’d be lying if you said your stomach didn’t twist in knots watching his wide eyes scan the room, standing there near the doorway in a white t-shirt and dark blue denim jeans clasped to his waist with a leather belt.

What in the fucking Calvin Klein ad just walked in here?

Don’t sit next to me, don’t sit next to me, please don’t-

He wore Dior Sauvage, just enough of it to charm your eyes in his direction, the two of your glances meeting for only a few seconds, yet long enough to know that this was going to be a long semester.

After that first week, that first class, he showed up on time, sometimes even earlier than you, and sure enough he’d be in that seat and he’d offer you the tiniest smile while he pushed in his chair to let you pass behind him.

Did he own any clothes that fit?

It felt like every week he’d have on a new shirt that clung to him like seran wrap, every little chiseled sculpted by Michaelangelo notch in his body, his chest, completely and utterly visible. As if he didn’t know it, more than enough time in class he’d spend with his hands behind his head, his biceps tightening in his sleeves, bulging beneath the fabric that you waited to see rip.

Too often you’d have to tear your eyes away, too lost in wonder as to what kind of marvel sat beside you. Six foot something, perfectly built, not only did his appearance alone catch you off guard, but his ability to be so gentle. A smiley, sappy giant full of tooth rotting sweetness. Each raise of his hand, how he toyed with his pen between his firm fingers, the way he’d listen to other people speak — his eyebrows pulling up in the center, his eyes widening with wonder. He’d keep to his space, never once invading yours. Respectful, he knew to say hello, goodbye, would ask you quiet questions, like what page number you were on, and he’d give you thanks into oblivion.

It wasn’t until a month or so had passed that you realized it. One morning you stood in front of the mirror for too long, put a little too much effort into your makeup, into your hair. Spritzing a bottle of perfume to your wrist that you saved for special occasions, when the glass tapped back onto the shelf and you dabbed your wrists together, you gasped.

Damn.

Swapping the lacey sweater for something more casual, you know, for class, you pulled half of your hair up and back, letting some of it hang forward, praying to anyone who’d help that it didn’t look like you woke up before your alarm to get ready for a class you half cared about.

He noticed.

He sat down, walking in a few minutes after you, and his eyes lingered in your direction. Not that you could tell, nor were you paying attention, you were sitting backward in your chair with your nose in your phone. It wasn’t his fault he wasn’t good at being nonchalant like you’d been for nearly two months now.

Besides, it didn’t work. He didn’t say a word the entire class, only his hello and his goodbye.

It didn’t upset you. That’s what you told yourself, the lies you fed your brain to pretend to feel better. It didn’t upset you, he was a boy in a class you didn’t see anywhere else on campus. He probably had a girlfriend. Look at him, listen to him, he definitely has a girlfriend.

By the next class you were back to the usual, the snoozed my alarm twice before getting up in a rush, a hoodie and baggy jeans. Hair thrown up, makeup minimal, you accepted your fate.

You weren’t expecting him to be in the room first, you’ve narrowed down his time frame of entry, typically within ten minutes of the lecture starting depending on when you’d arrive. He was five minutes too early. Giving him the tightest smile, you shimmied behind his chair and mimicked his greeting, shoving yourself into your seat, not prepared for fifteen minutes of silence with him beside you.

Nose in phone, nose in phone.

It was all you could do to keep from gawking, for some reason he was fresher than normal. Black t-shirt, denim jacket on the back of his chair, silver jewelry hanging off of him. He wore a different cologne, one you couldn’t pick out, but god it was delicious you wanted to lick it straight off his neck. He definitely sprayed it to his wrists too, typical, you could lick it off of him there too, why not. Maybe even his chest. No- anything beneath that shirt that should be squeezing the air out of his lungs was lethal, how was every muscle visible? How could he walk around like that, he had to know that-

“Did you do the homework?”

Great.

You didn’t dress yourself up to keep the giddy high school level crush on the DL, but the way you jumped at his words and your cheeks warmed definitely helped. And, yes, you were staring.

“I, uh, yeah, I did.”

If he noticed anything, he didn’t show it.

“Mind if I see it to make sure I got it right? You’re better at this than I am.”

Juvenile, all of it, from the way he checked his answers to the way he slid your notebook back over to you with a shake of his head. Nothing else was shared, the class had begun and he focused on your irritating professor who assigned similar homework for the third week in a row.

Holding onto the way he spoke to you, the soft tone, the warmth in his eyes, the subtle graveliness he forced but then got rid of when he answered questions aloud, you truly felt seventeen years old all over again.

He asked you a question.

He talked to you.

Did he spend more time on how he looked for you?

No, it’s for his girlfriend. The one he definitely has.

The girlfriend that he-

“Whatever perfume you had on last week… I liked it.”

He didn’t say goodbye. He didn’t wait around for you to say anything. He scooped his books into his arms, and he walked out of the classroom, leaving you in absolute shambles. Nerves lived within you for a week, so many nights spent lying awake thinking about him, what he said to you, what you were going to do. If you wear the perfume again you’re setting yourself up for exposure, you may as well just tell him you have a crush on him to his face. But, then again, if you didn’t wear it, you’d lose his interest. He wouldn’t think you had an interest in him, and what if he told you that because he does have an interest in you?

Oh god.

What if he knows?

You wore the perfume. One spritz of it over your heart before you left your room, enough that he’d just be able to tell if he paid as much attention as he suddenly seemed to be.

Early again, beating you to a class you tried to get to even earlier today, you did not miss the small smile that pulled at his lips as you slipped behind his chair. It was the only thing shared all class, a smile somewhere in between lessons when he caught your eye. He had that same cologne on, the one from last week, the one that had you envisioning what it’d be like to have your tongue dragging all over his body, it was hard to not look at him.

Oh, he definitely knew.

And so it began.

For another month, perfume and cologne alike, worn every class, you started to share more than smiles. He’d lean your way for questions and answers, would ask about the homework, the assignments, sometimes when he didn’t even need it, asking for an answer he already had scribbled on his paper. Fighting the nerves, the way your belly filled with butterflies and did cartwheels within you, you started to share more than just classroom talk. While you worked you chatted, you learned where he was from, where he came from, where you came from and why you both were here.

He was funny.

Funny in the way he didn’t know he was funny, oftentimes asking you what he did to make you laugh like that. You’d cover your mouth and pray the giggles away, unable to tell him how adorable he really was.

He filled every shoe you profiled him with. Kind, sweet, funny, gentle giant.

Chiseled chest his cologne, the one you loved, radiated from.

But you didn’t figure that out until the following month.

Month four.

Four months was all it took, and he was yours.

Class whispers turned into coffee dates. Coffee dates turned into homework dates, which turned into dinner dates.

By the end of the third you were wrapped in his sheets, wrapped in him, cologne on your tongue and lips pressed to his, whispering confessions of how long you liked each other but both felt too nervous to say anything. Reveling in pride, that you weren’t as obvious as you thought yourself to be, his sparkling grin overtook his face and he whispered two words that cradled your heart.

“I knew.”

[l0vergirlsw0rld]

Need fluff with logan and a southern reader pretty pretty pls!!!

I’m from a hawt place so a winter man in a winter cabin is needed right about now. Please can I request headcanons or a one shot about the reader that bakes him so many sweets/makes so much food for winter he gets chubby and notices, maybe they swap recipes or bake together? Just so much domestic fluff

It’s a primal need to see this man happy, unbothered in the Canadian wilderness, thriving with anything his heart wants and I know I can make that happen lmao

taste of home

bigdaddy!loganxsouthern!reader

a/n: i got so inspired by this request that I started and finished in one session! was definitely needed to whip up some cute cozy feel feel-good after the hours of writing smut for Ravish. thank you for the request, my asks are always open! hope y'all enjoy it! <3 a/n: i got so inspired by this request that I started and finished in one session! was definitely needed to whip up some cute cozy feel feel-good after the hours of writing smut for Ravish. thank you for the request, my asks are always open! hope y'all enjoy it! <3

wc: 1k

18+ MDNI | sexual themes, FLUFF, the name daddy is used.

summary: Y/N has been a little homesick lately and found a temporary cure through baking for Logan.

"What're you getting all dolled up for?" Logan cooed from the doorframe he was leaning on, his arms crossed. 

Your eyes met his reflection in the mirror of your vanity. 

"Nothin', just felt like being pretty." You smiled up at him as you put on your pearl earrings. 

It was true, you had nowhere to go. Logan's cabin was located in quite literally the middle of nowhere. Miles and miles of trees surrounded the property secluding you both from any and all civilization. 

Back home, it was part of your routine to get ready for the day even though all you'd do was stay home. There was something fulfilling about looking your best every day: if you looked good, you felt good.

You had felt a little homesick lately.

 Logan had dragged you deep into the Canadian forests for the winter because he couldn't stand the southern heat that you were used to. At first, you weren't a fan of the idea, but seeing as how happy it made Logan, it made the move all worthwhile.

He'd let go of his negative ways, he was now affectionate, talkative, and adventurous. His being away from all the stress allowed him to show you some of his other colours and vibrant ones at that.

"What do you always say... as pretty as a plum?" He snorted.

"As a peach. It's pretty as a peach." You giggled. 

"Well then, darling, you're as pretty as a peach." He corrected himself, pushing off the door frame and walking up behind your chair.

"Why thank you, Daddy," You blushed as he placed a gentle kiss on your exposed shoulder. 

"God, I love it when you call me that." He groaned into your skin, giving you a soft bite. 

You giggled from the slight pinch and finished getting ready with a few final pats of powder. 

"Mmm, as much as I'd want to do that with you right now, know what day it is. It's my baking day, Lo'." You tipped your head back and pressed a kiss to his stubbly cheek. 

"Can't you do it tomorrow baby?" He huffed.

"You know it's tradition, Sunday is baking day. Do you want more sweets or what?" You raised an eyebrow. 

"Yes, mam'." He chuckled, taking a seat on the bed and letting you get to your  work station.

He knew how serious you got about your baking, it was your primary way of curing your homesickness. 

You'd always keep a pitcher of sweet tea in the fridge and cupboards stocked with fresh bread and goodies. Logan could not bring himself to complain, he had developed a major sweet tooth since being with you. Every time you'd make new batches they would be gone in a matter of a few days. It's as if he'd eat one each time he'd pass by them. 

You didn't mind though, it warmed your heart to see how much he enjoyed your baking. Often you'd find some powdered sugar left in his beard. 

"You should watch it with those," You'd warn him as he devoured them, one by one. 

"I got bones of steel. No need to worry baby, sugar is the last thing that'll take me out." He mumbled with his mouth full, not being able to control himself around your delicious treats.

His favourites were your peach cobbler, lemon bars and peanut butter-chocolate fudge. Those were also conveniently the easiest ones to make. You had tried to teach Logan how to make them on his own, but it never stuck. 

"Why are they flat like pancakes? I followed your recipe," He had come to you while you left him unsupervised in the kitchen. You put your embroidery down and peered into the baking pan. 

"Did you use baking powder?" You poked the gooey top of his 'cupcake.' 

"Yes." He grumbled.

"Are you sure it was baking powder and not baking soda?" You tasted the batter, making a face. Salty.

"There's a difference?" His eyebrows furrowed.

Baking didn't come naturally to Logan, and that was okay. You had your strengths and he had his, which is what made you two work so well together. 

You spent the entire day working up a storm in the kitchen. 

Multitasking the different steps for each recipe with ease. You had spent so much time of your life baking that tackling multiple projects at once didn't even make you break a sweat. Logan turned his leather armchair to face you from across the house so he could watch you. 

He enjoyed watching you get lost in your little head as you worked. The way your plump lips wrapped around your finger when you taste-tested the recipes, making sure they were just right for him. The slight lift of your dress as you bent over to grab some pans from storage. Your flushed skin, glowing underneath the kitchen light. That little sigh of relief would escape you as you tied your hair up from the heat of the oven. Just like that, silently, he'd ogle you from his corner, sipping his favourite whiskey, and watching his favourite doll. 

Of course, at any chance he'd get he'd be there to come help you when you needed him to reach some things that were too high up or lift the heavy sac of flour on the counter for you. 

Today, you had made the biggest batches yet, pans of cooling sweets covered your entire kitchen surface. 

"Whoa baby, what're you feeding, the army?" Logan teased as he walked by shirtless. 

When you first started seeing Logan, he was in optimal shape. He was nothing but an angry mess of hair and muscle. But since he moved you into the cabin, he had started putting on a few extra pounds, most likely from his overconsumption of your treats. 

"No, I'm feeding a Wolverine that's clearly getting ready for winter." You teased back, poking his stomach. 

 He stopped in his tracks and peered down at his hair-covered gut. 

In no way shape or form did he look bad with the added weight, if anything you like him having a few extra layers? 

"You callin' me fat?" Grinned mischievously. 

"I was just playin- ah Logan!" You gasped as he threw you over his shoulder with a swift motion. Holding your ass right next to his face with his arm. He hoisted up your dress with his free hand, revealing your white bow panties. Your legs kicked in protest. 

"Daddy, stop it- you're not fat-" 

"That's not very nice baby, gonna need to punish you." He chuckled giving you a hard spank on the cheek, then placed you back down. 

"Now if you will excuse me, I've gotta get ready for winter." He winked as he grabbed the cookie closest to him. Sinking with teeth in it with that smile you oh so fell in love with. 

🏷️: @babey-fruit-bat <3

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[jarofstyles]

Leather & Lace

Hello my angels and welcome to Leather and Lace!!! We’ve got a very cute 3 parter (I’ve finished writing it) coming in for you guys. We love a good grumpy x sunshine and couldn’t help ourselves writing another one. Please leave us feedback! We love to hear from you

Check out our Patreon for early access to parts 2&3, as well as 170+ exclusive writings!

Wc- 8.2k

Warnings- oral sex, praise kink, soft Dom h, opposites attract, cum play/swapping

---------

“How can you be this happy in the morning?” Harry grunted, hoodie pulled over his head as he sat down next to a bubbly Y/N. Her couch was comfortable but it didn’t make up for the fact that he was at her flat at 8 in the morning. 

“It’s not that early, lazy bones.” She hummed, tucking her legs under her as she sat down on the other side. “Thank you for coming to help today, by the way. I know you don’t like getting up early.”

He really didn’t, was the thing. He hated it. Harry only had so many days off and after working a long shift bartending last night, the very last thing he wanted to do was help someone unpack in their new flat. He’d rather claw at concrete than be awake right now, rather eat a raw egg, rather go through tattoo removal. If it was anyone but Y/N he would have laughed in their face at the mere ask. 

But it was her. It was twinkly eyed, pouty lipped, warm hearted Y/N who had asked him a week in advance and promised him a bagel with cream cheese and an iced coffee for brekkie, whatever he wanted for lunch, and ‘whatever he wanted in general!’. Little did she know he was going to say yes anyway, considering he knew he couldn’t say no to her sweet little ask with her smaller hand on his tattooed arm and wide eyes peering up at him. He wasn’t someone who liked to do things for many people without there being some sort of monetary gain, but this was different. 

Y/N had somehow latched herself onto one of the grumpiest bastards in the area while she herself was one of the sweetest girls he’d ever seen. Rarely spoke a mean word of anyone (except when they hurt someone close to her), went out of her way to help anyone who needed it and always wanted to be a shoulder to cry on. He’d seen her take money from her own wallet to cover someone’s bill when they were short, even seen her rush to help an elderly man across the street. It got her into trouble sometimes which was why he was glad that he’d been the hip she’d chosen to attach to. 

Their first interaction had been him sitting in the courtyard of their uni, listening to music under the tree. He’d had his sketchbook in hand, doodling in between classes when he looked up to see a girl with a pretty yellow bow in her hair offering him a cupcake because he looked ‘sad.’. He had been sad, actually, but that was pretty much his normal resting face. He’d tried to blow her off but she’d taken a seat next to him, introducing herself and telling him about her own day to ‘distract him’. He hated to admit that it worked. 

From then on, she popped up everywhere. At first he’d been a bit worried that she was following him but it truly was a coincidence. Y/N had found her way under his skin, wriggled her way into that cold heart of his and made it warm up just a little each time she came around. At some point she’d become a daily fixture in his life, her texts lighting up his phone with emojis and telling him to meet her at the cafe or the library- and for some reason, he followed.

“Mmm. Know y’wanted me here to see me get all sweaty. If y’wanted to see my tats and muscles so badly, you coulda just said so, Sweets.” He smirked, watching her eyes widen. So easy to fluster. 

“No! Stop teasing me, s’not nice.” She grumbled, poking his knee with her socked foot. She’d chosen lavender striped ones today. “I don’t have a lot of strong friends, you know that. Niall’s comin’ by after work to help you put the bedframe together and move the books from the car. Besides, I’ll let you sleepover and everything after we’re all done. I know you loveeeee my bed.”

He did. But more than anything he liked laying in said bed with her. Harry had a hard time admitting he had begun to gain feelings for the girl but deep down he knew he did. He liked that she insisted on cuddles, curling her leg around his and nuzzling her face into his chest, or even better yet the crook of his neck. Loved when she’d sleepily ask him questions about his life and tell him facts about her own. She resembled a tiny kitten while sleepy, insistent on getting all of the pets and attention. 

Harry had decided he wasn’t the relationship type after his last girlfriend had cheated on him with his old best mate- but meeting Y/N had reminded him of the die hard romantic that laid underneath the surface. All the hard work he’d had piling up bricks on top of his red, bleeding heart had seemed to be consistently excavated by the pastel wearing girl who still enjoyed the fairy lights he used to see online in those aesthetic bedroom photos. It scared him a bit at first. Even now, he was nervous about the idea of getting closer to her than they were now because her heart was a tender and precious thing and he didn’t necessarily trust himself not to hurt her- but then again, he knew he’d do miles better than anyone else could. He’d spent the time learning about her as the months went by, listening to her drawl on about the pinterest boards she made, her dream finds she always looked for at the thrift stores, her least favorite reality TV contestants, which pastries she found to be too dry at the cafe and which had the best level of moisture, what blankets she liked, every little tidbit he had stored away in his brain to use at a later date. 

No one would be as protective of her as he would be, which was why lately he’d been entertaining the thought of perhaps moving past the point of no return and trying to see if maybe, possibly, perhaps.. They could be more. 

It had come with a lot of deliberating but he’d come to understand that if he failed, Y/N wouldn’t caste him to the side. She’d never in a million years abandon him like he feared, which only gave him more motivation to go for it though… He was still biding his time. He had to let her get settled here before he shook up her life a bit more. 

They were opposites, the sweet girl and him. Harry was quite literally the bad boy cliche of everyone’s after school special’s dreams. His hair was long and curled, brushing his jaw. He went for darker clothing, usually his ripped black skinny jeans and a band tee but sometimes more eccentric with some silk and leaving his tits out when they went on a night out. His nose had a simple black hoop, his nails painted and chipped though this week they were a bubblegum pink, a la Y/N’s expertise. His body was hard from the gym he liked to frequent and inked, only getting more every month. He wore the occasional eyeliner when he felt spicy. That was only the physical things. 

Sometimes he wondered why she felt drawn to him, as she said. He was dark and moody with a darker sense of humor. Somewhat of a pessimist, he expected the worst from people and tended to stay away from them the best he could. The opposite of a social butterfly, he only usually went out in the past for a drink or to get his cock wet, never for the pleasure of interacting with people. Even then it was rare considering he did quite well in the hookup area being a bartender himself. 

Harry often wondered how and why she felt the pull to be around him and why she felt so at ease in his presence but he figured it had to be that he’d knocked the lights out of a bloke in her philosophy class who’d been riding her ass. He’d made the wrong decision of cornering Y/N at a party Harry had been dragged to, touching her a bit too much and not listening when her smile became thin and she backed away from him after giving a rejection much too polite than the man deserved. There had been no hesitation in laying him out, tugging Y/N into his side and demanding she stay with him for the rest of the party after she insisted she didn’t need to go home. 

Funnily enough she’d been a hit with his own small group of friends, everyone also feeling the same sort of kindred protection over her. Not many people were genuinely warm and fuzzy in the way she was. 

Y/N was… She was the sun, she was a cinnamon roll fresh baked on a sunday morning, she was a kitten sprawled in a sunbeam. All the good things, he could find a way to relate them to her. That probably should have been the indicator he had feelings for her far sooner than he’d ever let himself admit, but she had taken the time to crack him open. 

It was hard to stop thinking about what made her both his opposite and so special. Harry dwelled on how soft her clothing always was, both in color and texture. She liked those pastel colors and fuzzy cardigans, hair bows and those signature mary janes with the tiny heels. Lip oil as opposed to lip gloss because it was ‘too sticky’ but still dragged all his attention to her lips and made him wonder if it really tasted like tangerine like it smelled. 

Her touch was gentle and tender, cautious at first but as soon as she got the go ahead, she showered you in attention. At least, she did to him. Brushing stray hairs out of faces and wiping crumbs off cheeks, she had little sense of personal space once granted permission. She’d been mindful of his distaste for touch at the beginning but once he’d leaned into it, the girl had no qualms about straightening his shirt or leaning into his form, hell- there had been a few times she’d helped herself to his lap when there was no other seating option. Usually that was when she was tipsy considering she would most likely be a little shy sober, but that was something he enjoyed. 

The light to his dark, he doubted anyone else could make him feel the way she could. Hence why he was up after only getting 4 hours of sleep, sipping the coffee she’d gotten him. There was little he wouldn’t do for a hint of her smile. 

—--

“Babe, you’ve got t’make a decision.” Harry said gently, placing the large mirror down and leaning it against the wall. 

“I know, I know but… It’s bad luck to have your mirror facing your bed.” She wrung her fingers together. “I’m sorry, H. I know I’ve been a bit of a pain in the rear today. I promise m’not trying to, but It’s my first place and I just want it to be perfect.” Her head looked down, making his heart squeeze. 

God damn it. Leave it to her to make him feel like he’d kicked a puppy. Sighing, he tugged the bandana on his head back into place and approached her, placing his hand on her shoulder. “M’not upset with you. Promise. I just think you’re overthinking it a bit.” Her superstitions did tend to make her feel a little squirrely sometimes and he knew it.  “We’re gonna make it look perfect. Incredible, even. Reckon the magazines will be calling you up to feature you, but we can’t just have a freestanding mirror slab.” He’d picked it up for her off of craigslist just a bit ago. Even if it wasn’t a dodgy listing, he wouldn’t let her go on her own. That’s how people got kidnapped. 

“Ugh, I know.” She groaned, flopping into his chest. Never mind it being sweaty, she rubbed her nose between his tits and let out a tired groan, her hair smacking his chin. It’d been tossed up in a very messy bun that was a bit lopsided but made her look doubly as cute, though he didn’t tell her that. “Why don’t we mount it to the back of your door then? Not facing your bed, or another mirror.” 

He could almost hear her brain going as she mulled it over before he felt the nod against his chest. “That will be good, I think. I love that idea.” Y/N had been going back and forth over design choices with him all day as if he had a clue about interior decor, but he had appreciated her caring about his opinion nonetheless. “That can be the last thing we do. Niall’s fucked off somewhere futzing with the books so we can eat after that’s done.” 

The thud of his heart against her ear was steady as he gently ran a hand over her shoulderblade. “What’s on the menu?” 

“Think we’re ordering pizza because I know m’too tired to cook which means you lot have to be too.” She chuckled, finally prying herself out of his chest and blinking up at him.”Then we can go to bed.”  He was thankful her ear was away from his heart so she couldn’t hear the way it stuttered. You’d think after sleeping in her bed a multitude of times that he’d get used to the sound of that sentence but it still did him in every time. 

“Okay. I can run and pick it up after I mount this to the door if you call it in.” He knew she wouldn’t want to go. It was visible on her face how tired she was and it melted him internally. He knew that she’d be a little snuggly menace tonight and fuck if he wasn’t looking forward to it. “Gonna run into the pharmacy t’grab some body wash for here, if thats okay?”

“Course it is.” She beamed at the suggestion, making him happy that he’d even brought it up. Y/N used to suggest he sleep heer a lot before and he’d refuse, thinking she was just trying to be polite- but she really did enjoy him staying with her. “I liked the pomegranate one you used last time, just sayin’.” Patting his chest she moved from his grip, heading to grab her phone. “Normal for you?”

“Yeah, love. Same as usual.” He rubbed over the achy spot in his chest that she’d left by pulling away, looking forward to sleeping tonight so he could feel it fill back up.

—-----------

Harry had grabbed the pomegranate bath stuff. He’d grabbed the whole line, actually, the shampoo, conditioner, body wash and some sort of ‘skin buff.’ Whatever that was. 

Y/N had squeaked as he showed her, along with a pack of the makeup wipes she usually used and he’d steal. He’d figured it was about time to be the one to buy the replacements. “Ah! And you got the face mask I like.” Her eyes were wide and bright as she bounced on her toes, smacking a kiss to his stubbly cheek before looking back down at the holographic packaging. He’d hoped he had gotten the right one when he’d seen a sale on them when on his way to the check out counter. It was worth the little bit of money to feel her lips for a moment. “Thank you, H. You’re the best, as usual.” 

“The hell am I?” Niall scoffed, wiping his hands dry after washing them. 

“You’re great too, but he got me the face masks I like and they usually sell out. So he’s a bit higher up in points today.” She placated him, brushing past him to put them in the bathroom. “Harry, plate up the pizza, pretty please!”

As soon as she had disappeared, Niall shot him a look. “When are you two gonna make it official?” He whispered. “The heat eyes bouncin’ off the both of you is sickening at this point. She’s turned you soft.” 

Harry settled with a glare, placing two slices on the paper plate and sliding it over to him. “Eventually. Her whole life is shifting. Can’t do shit right now without rattling her.” It was the first time he admitted or even hinted at having feelings for her besides point blank telling anyone who came around that she wasn’t available. Y/N didn’t know he did that though. 

“Thank fuck you don’t still have your head up your arse. I was worried you’d never admit you’re gone for her.” He faked wiping sweat off his head making the other man roll his eyes. “She’ll be happy, H. You don’t have to worry about her rejecting you. Just go on and do it. She talks about you like you hang the moon every night at this point even when you aren’t around.” 

A weakness he’d spotted, Harry stood a bit straighter before leaning in. “She does? What does she say?” Oh, he hated how desperate he sounded to hear the answer but the fluttering in his stomach made him insisting on finding out. 

“Oh, how thoughtful and kind and generous you are and how you’re the best person she knows, all of that. She stares at her phone and waits for texts from you when she comes out and you’re working, gets these huge smiles or giggles when you do. or tries to get everyone to move the party to your bar.” 

That last part, he’d hoped for. He liked the idea of her wanting to be physically close to him and suggesting everyone come and see him, but knowing she did the same thing he did when waiting for messages from him soothed a piece of him. He wasn’t alone in it. It was hard sometimes for him to decipher her behavior considering she was genuinely so friendly with everyone and he didn’t want to flatter himself and think it he was special… but apparently he was. 

He didn’t have a chance to answer when Y/N glided from the bathroom, finding her spot on the kitchen barstools. “What did I miss?” 

“Nothin’, Babe. Just chatting shit.” He murmured, sliding her a plate with her pizza of choice on it. “Figured we’d go to the grocery tomorrow, yeah? It’s a bit sparse in here with the food.” He had the next day off and intended on spending it with her. They’d made lots of progress today and had 80% of the place unpacked, but he knew she liked those restocking videos online. “Think they’ve got those organizers back in stock.” 

“Oh!” She gasped.”Yes, you genius. I’ll need your help though, strong man. I like the one trip wonder.” It was a tease considering she knew Harry hated making multiple trips up with bags. 

“Lucky for you, you’ve got a lift now and I’ve got that collapsible wagon.” Reaching out he gently flicked her nose for being a brat. “So we won’t have t’worry about that.” 

—-----

Y/N was either very oblivious or a tease. Harry could never fully figure out which one. 

He sat on her bed, messing with her telly when she emerged from the shower in her little cotton shorts and one of his shirts. It was one he’d just been looking for last week, actually, an old Iron Maiden one with a few holes in the collar area. Unmistakably his. The faded gray complimented her skin, looking extra cozy on her as her powder blue plush bunny slippers flopped against the ground and she made her way to her skincare desk. 

“You little thief.” He grumbled from the bed, leaning against her headboard. “I was searching everywhere for that last week.” Though he had narrowed eyes she would know he was only teasing. 

“You left it with me, remember? I ended up packing it so I wouldn’t forget it but… It’s super comfy.” She smiled guiltily at him, spinning in her chair. “Is it okay if I wear it? It still smells like your cologne and it helps me sleep sometimes…”

Ah, a shot to the heart. 

Y/N didn’t know what it did to him to know he was an aid in good sleep. That it both made his heart stutter and his cock throb at the sight of her wrapped up in his clothing like she had all the rights to it. Like he was her boyfriend and she liked to wear it to remember him. Her scent had a similar effect on him, leaving it in his sheets when she stayed over,  “Totally okay, lovely.” He smiled gently. “M’just teasing you. Though it does wonders for my ego to know you like my cologne that much.” 

He knew he was making her a little flustered considering she didn’t look right at him, but he thrived off of that. Knowing he made an impact on her like that made him feel just a bit more confident that she felt similarly to him. There was no answer from her, but he wasn’t done with her quite yet. Standing up with a groan, he made his way over to her little makeup and skincare set up, placing his hands on the back of her chair. “What are you putting on your face?” He asked curiously, looking over her head to the products she had neatly organized.

“Well, first I wipe with one of these toning pads.” She opened the little tub, using a tiny pair of clear tongs to grab one. “You don’t want to be sticking your fingers in there and potentially making them all dirty so it came with this little thing. You give it a few passes over your t zone.” She showed him as she did it, Harry watching diligently in the mirror. 

“Mmm. Then what? You’re always doin’ all of this fancy stuff to your face. Figure that's why your skin is so pretty.” He let his fingers fiddle with a few strands of hair. 

“Thank you.” She said sheepishly, picking up a smaller tube. “Um, I use this undereye cream to help with puffiness and brightening. Its soothing. I apply it with the smallest finger though, because while I’m not afraid of wrinkles it’s the weakest fingers and the skin under your eyes is more delicate.” 

Huh. “Didn’t know what.” He was actually learning something from this. 

“Mhm. Why do you think I tell you to go gentle when you use the makeup remover?” A smile tilted up one side of her lips a bit further, eyes focused on the mirror in front of her. She pretended not to notice the slight shiver he gave her when he leaned down, letting his face get more level with hers- but he did. He noticed anything he could. “A-And then I use some vitamin C stuff for brightening, a serum and a cream. I use the little fan to make it dry faster so it isn’t sticky.” She pointed to the mini pink fan he’d always noticed. He’d just assumed it was for when she got hot. “Do you… Would you like me to use some of it on you when I’m done?” 

She sounded hesitant to ask which he understood. Not a lot of the guys in their friend circle would want that, but he wasn’t that insecure about himself that he’d say no to someone pampering him. Especially not when it meant Y/N getting close to him. “Sure, sweets. I’d love that. Reckon my skin needs it.” 

“What do you usually do with it?” She asked curiously, meeting his eye in the mirror. 

“Makeup remover, wash my face, that cream you left at my place if I remember.” 

“It’s not fair you have the skin you do.” She huffed, shaking her head. “Cruel, actually.” It kind of was. He got long lashes too, which she always complained about. “Go and wash your face first, heathen.”

Harry let out a small laugh before going off to do that. Returning with a fresh face, he stood in his prior position, watching her finish up the routine before holding the fan closer to her face to finish it off. It was an interesting process he hadn’t paid much mind to before, but then again, she didn’t bring every single thing to his place either. 

After putting her hair up in a claw clip, she stood up from the plushy chair and motioned for him to sit down. He did as asked, feeling her residual warmth as she lined up the products for them. “Okay, so we start with the toner pad.” She gently pushed him to lean back in the chair, her face coming closer to his as she delicately swiped it over his cheeks and nose. He was getting an up close look at her, noticing the scar near her eyebrow and a few spots on her face. It made him warm up a bit, being able to see her so close when she was awake. Usually this level of observation was reserved for when she was asleep. “Oi, keep your head up.” 

“Sorry.” He laughed, avoiding the impulse to move the chair back and forth. He liked to swing on it at times. 

“Wait- how about this.” Without giving it much thought, she gripped the chair and swung it over to turn his body to the side, helping herself to straddle his lap. “This seems a little easier, no?” Fingers gently tipped his chin up, eyes focused on her motions. 

Harry’s breath had disappeared. No longer available, he felt her sitting on top of his thighs, innocent as ever as she went through the motions. Tender with her movements and pressure, she was treating him like porcelain while giving him a little makeover. He should be focused on how nice the products felt on his skin, but his mind was elsewhere. 

She smelled amazing, as usual, but having it this close up was a little hard for him. Yes, she sat on his lap before- but not in his shirt, with her thighs on display and tiny little shorts. She didn’t straddle him before either, didn’t let his mind wander to places it shouldn’t. All his energy was focused on trying to ensure she didn’t feel the stiffy that was quickly growing in his pants. 

“I can’t believe how good you’re being for me, H.” She whispered. “No whining or anything.” Her smile was soft as she wiped the serum over his face. “You’re so pretty.”

Fuck. He swallowed thickly, trying desperately to not let his cock construe those words into the filthy praise kink he had, but it appeared to be a bit too late for that. She had no idea what she was doing to him and he didn’t want to be a perv, but god damn. If the girl continued, there would be no denying that he’d cream his damn pants. Being pet on, feeling her brush his hair off his forehead while she stroked his face and adjusted his position to where she wanted… He was only so strong. “Thanks.” He murmured, trying to keep his composure. 

“Of course.” She beamed, seeming pleased. “I’m surprised you’re letting me do this, but you’re full of surprises.” It seemed like she didn’t know the battle he was facing internally, which was his goal, but that was soon to be ruined. “Hold on a second.” Shifting slightly on his lap, she stood up momentarily before sliding further up. “Sorry, I was falling down a bit-” 

Harry hadn’t meant to, he really fucking didn’t. But she sat right on top of him, squirming a bit. Giving his dick a bit of friction, making his hands grip her hips and sit her down hard to stop the movement. He couldn’t open his eyes, couldn’t face her as he heard the hitch in her breath. “Fuck, I’m sorry. Sorry, I didn’t- I promise m’not being a creep or anything.” He winced. “Just been a while and uh-” 

“Hey, it’s okay.” Her voice rang out, fingers brushing through his hair. “H, look at me. I’m not mad.” Of course, her words were sweet and syrupy, going right to his dick yet again. Y/N had no fucking idea how much she effected him, how many times he’d thought about her in this positon and how guilty he felt that he’d turned a sweet moment into something like this. “C’mon. You don’t need to be embarrassed.” 

He took a moment before opening his eyes, looking at her face. Studying it, making sure she wasn’t uncomfortable. Her hand cupped the side of his face, a slight pout on her pretty lips. Y/N didn’t seem upset about it, seeing as she sat still and could most definitely feel his cock under her. He could feel her cunt over him, hot through the fabric and he was doing everything in his power to be fucking normal. 

“There you are.” The tables had finally turned. Harry was the shy one in this moment and Y/N was the one seemingly not freaked out. “It’s a natural body function, H. I know you’re not some kind of perv. I sat on your lap, remember?” She soothed his nerves. “Besides, I’m flattered. Was beginning to think you thought I was some kind of troll or something.” The smile kicked up on her face, but his frown deepened.

“The fuck? Why would you think that?” Brows furrowed, he didn’t like that she thought he didn’t find her attractive. He called her pretty quite a bit. 

“Well, I’m not your type. You go for all those tattooed girls with the bad ass attitudes, which is cool cause I think they’re hot too but… I’m all soft and squishy, y’know? I like the soft things, kinda the opposite of you so I just thought I wasn’t someone you’d be attracted to. M’nothing like what you go for.” She didn’t seem offended by this, rather stating it matter of fact- but Harry couldn’t believe how wrong she was. He had to wonder how long she thought this. 

While he was secretly pining after her, she was thinking he was going off to get blowies by the girls that flirted with him which, sometimes he did. At the beginning of their friendship, he tried to stave off those feelings for her by getting someone else underneath him, fucking away the frustration but he learned fairly quickly that none of it did much when his mind was on someone else. It’d been months at this point. Sure, he liked a bit of flirting to boost his ego, but that was only when Y/N was preoccupied. 

“Well, you’re wrong.” He said sternly. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Dunno where the troll idea came in when m’always staring at you.” He scoffed. “No more of that bullshit. Wouldn’t be hard if I didn’t think you were stunning. Trust me.” In fact, she was the only thing that got him hard these days. Thinking of her mouth, her thighs, her tits, her ass, anything. Even her hands, for fucks sake. “Don’t ever doubt how beautiful you are t’me. Pisses me off.”

“Sorry.” She bleated, pouting back at him. “I didn’t mean to. It’s just.. You call me pretty but I never would have thought you meant it like that. I like that you let me cuddle you and stuff so obviously I know you aren’t repulsed by me but, I dunno.” She swallowed, looking down at his bare chest. “I’m sorry for getting you… if you’re uncomfortable.” 

God, he was mucking this up wasn’t he? He shook his head, letting his thumbs rub over her hips as he softened his face. “No, sweets. Don’t apologize. S’not a big deal, I’m not mad at you. Just don’t like the idea of you thinking poorly of yourself. You’re fucking stunning.” So stunning that his cock was still hard under her. “I’ll go take care of it when we’re done, but no more squirming. Okay?” Squeezing her, he tried to rectify the situation. “No more fussing.” 

“But…” Y/N’s lips twisted slightly, sliding her hands down to his shoulders. “That’s not fair.” 

Harry blinked a few times, looking her over hesitantly. “What d’you mean? I’m okay, pet.” 

“Well, It’s my fault that you’re like this.” She protested. “I can fix it, if you want. Haven’t given too many blowies before, but I can take instruction pretty well.”

Harry truly thought he was dreaming for a moment, his face hot as she gave him an innocent look. Like she meant it, though it slightly embarrassed her for not having a lot of experience. But feeling her shift on him clued him back into reality. This was real. “You- You don’t have to do anything for me, Y/N.” He was holding on by a string. “You didn’t mean to do it. It’s not your responsibility to get me off just because my cock’s got a mind of his own.”

Y/N huffed again, shaking her head. “I want to. Can I?” Her face shifted slightly. “You’re not making me do anything. It would make me feel better If i could take care of you.” Her eyes met his. “I mean it. Promise.” 

And god, if Harry was a stronger man he’d lift her off his lap and insist on taking care of it himself. He’d explain that it could make lines blurry and he liked her a bit more than a friend and they’d have that talk. But he wasn’t a stronger man, and she rolled her hips on him again with a hum, making his head fall back when she repeated the action. “Fuck.” He whispered under his breath. “As long as.. As long you’re sure. I don’t want you to regret it or anything.” 

“I won’t.” She peeped. “I like making you feel good, Harry.” Her face seemed brighter as she watched him nod.

“Go on then, sweetheart.” He sighed. “I’ll show you what I like.” 

Never in a million years had he expected her to be visibly excited, slipping off his lap and on to her knees in front of him. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Eyes looked up at him with curiosity, hands running over his thighs as she waited for direction. He’d dreamt of this so many times, stroked off in the bathroom to this very mental image to get his load out quicker. His cock pulsed inside his sweats. This was really happening. “M’not wearing briefs under these.” He warned, pushing the waistband down as he slowly tugged himself out of the pants. His hand was slightly shaky ass he gave himself a squeeze at the base, a soft hiss leaving his teeth when her hand covered his own. 

“I’ve only done it a few times but…” Her eyes widened. “Yours is the prettiest I’ve seen.”

And fuck if that didn’t get him going. Harry took pride in his dick, as a lot of men did, but to get that compliment was better than anything else. His hair was normally trimmed shorter, but it had been a while. It was groomed a bit at the base, his happy trail leading up his stomach. “Thank you.” He mumbled, removing his hand and letting hers take over. Y/N was eager and that much was obvious, feeling her give him a few strokes as she shuffled closer in between his spread thighs. “I- I probably won’t last long. I wasn’t lying, it’s been a while.” And he’d imagined her in this position so many times that he was programmed to get off to it quickly. 

“That’s okay. You’re quite big so it’ll be better for my jaw.” She giggled. Fucking giggled while her thumb rubbed over the slit, making him shudder. He’d always imagined she’d be much more shy in this situation, but again he was proven wrong. “What do you like?” 

Honestly? He could cum just like this. Her stroking him slow, looking up at him with that pretty little face. Splatter her pretty face with pearly strings leaking from the slit of his cock, let it drip down her cheeks and chin. But she wouldn’t like that answer. “I’m okay with anything you give me, but I… I like to hear you.” He swallowed, a shaky exhale leaving his nose. “And uh, a bit wet. If that’s something you’d like.” 

Y/N looked like she was taking note, nodding at his words. “I want to know what you like, m’okay with anything.” She smiled. “I knew you had to be big cause.. Y’know you’ve got the energy. And I’ve felt it a few times when we cuddle, before you wake up. It’s just different to see it.” Y/N leaned her head on his thigh, continuing to jerk him off. “I’ll probably choke a little bit, cause you’re the biggest I’ve taken. It’s okay though, I’ll be fine. I’ll pinch your tummy or somthin’ if I need a second to breathe.” 

Who the fuck was she? Y/N had never, ever shown or hinted at being filthy in her life, but here she was. Talking about choking on his cock. He throbbed in her hand, making her eyebrows raise. “You liked that. Noted.” Leaning forward, she kept eye contact with him as she dragged her pink tongue from the base up to the tip, letting it sit there for a moment before she pulled away, giving him a few more strokes. “You can show me what you like too. Don’t be shy about it, H. I want you to feel good.” 

Harry nearly lost it as he watched those gorgeous lips purse, spitting right over the tip. It slipped down his length before her hand caught it, stroking and spreading it over his cock. Filthy, filthy things filled his tongue immediately, but he tried to pace himself. “Fuck me…” He whispered, gently gathering her hair in his hand. “I didn’t know you had this in you, gorgeous.” It nearly bowled him over. “Can you.. Take it in your mouth. Suck the tip for me. I want to see that.” 

Normally, he had no problem being a cocky, arrogant man. He was dominant most of the time with his hook ups- but Y/N wasn’t just a hook up to him. She was special. He didn’t want to do a single thing to potentially fuck this up. He wanted her to like this, to see how much he liked it too. She had no problems following instructions, the man watching as her lips stretched around the tip and dipped down a bit as she suckled on it. A soft hum left her mouth and vibrated over him as he curled the hair around his fist, making him groan. “Yeah, jus’ like that, angel. Fuck.” He kept his eyes on her as she bobbed shallowly, taking moments to rub her tongue over his leaking slit. “You’re so good, so sweet t’me. Can’t believe you’re doin’ this.” 

Y/N pulled off the tip, lips wet as she peered up at him. “I’ve thought about it before.” She whispered, lapping over the side of his length. “Wanted to see your cock. I knew it’d be pretty.” 

What the fuck? Harry’s brian felt fried, completely caught off guard by this information. Sure, he had thought maybe once or twice she was teasing him but it wasn’t often. Y/N was just so sugary sweet and kind, a slight air of innocence, and… Now she was telling him she’d thought about sucking him off before. “You have?” 

“Mhm.” She stroked him a bit firmer, the slick sound of her hand around his wet cock getting louder. “I heard.. Heard rumors and felt left out. You like me the best but you never asked me to do anything.” Rubbing the tip over her pouted lips, Harry was shocked yet again. 

“Cause y’mean more to me than any of the other people.” He swallowed. “Too fuckin’ sweet. I like you the best, you’re right but.. You’re my sweet girl. Didn’t want t’use you for anything like that. Would break my heart if I hurt you and you’d not want to see me again.” 

“What if I wanted you to use me?” She asked, peering up at him with those eyes. They drove him absolutely mad. “I know you wouldn’t hurt me unless I asked, H. You’re so good to me… I just want to be good for you too.” Taking the tip back into her mouth, she pushed herself down further and he felt his stomach clench. It took him off guard, feeling the hot mouth take him down and bob herself against him, a soft hum vibrating over him. 

“Oh- Fuck.” He let out a broken groan, leaning further back into the chair. “You are, baby, you fucking are. Hot little mouth… shit.” She whimpered around his cock at his words, sucking a little harder as her hand stroked the rest of him. She liked that. “What is it, hm? Like when I call you baby? When I tell you how perfect you are?” His words got a bit darker. He was slipping into another headspace and Y/N seemed to be coaxing it on. 

She did a half ass nod, not pulling off his length as she continued. Harry wouldn’t have guessed in a million years that she’d be a greedy girl like this, but he was incredibly thankful that she was. “You are. Such a good girl, so gorgeous with your mouth stretched around my cock. Didn’t know you were gagging for it, baby. Should’ve told me.” He chuckled darkly. “Wouldn’t have wasted my loads in the shower before comin’ t’bed with you. Could’ve pushed into your needy mouth and let you swallow it down.” 

Y/N moaned around his prick, eyes watering slightly as she looked at him. He’d never seen a better sight. “You’re so beautiful, angel. So pretty. Didn’t know such a filthy thing could have you lookin’ even more beautiful.” His throat felt thick as his cock throbbed in her mouth. “Fuck, you don’t even know how many times I’ve thought about it.”

Y/N pulled off, panting slightly as webs of saliva connected her mouth to his cock. “How much?” Her voice was a little hoarse, but he could hear that she was desperate to know. “You- You could have. I don’t want you to waste it anymore.” There was the tiny bit of shyness coming back in. “If umm, if you think  I’m good enough at this. I’ll do it.” 

“Fuck me, baby.” His thumb wiped over her spit soaked lips, breaking the threads of spit as he caressed her cheek. “All the fucking time. S’the only thing that gets me off.” Confessions he hadn’t thought he’d be saying so soon, let alone before he’d ever kissed her, spilled from him. “You’re doing amazing. More than good enough, too fucking good for me.” He couldn’t believe she was offering. “You sure you want t’be the one to take care of it?”

“Yes, I want it. I don’t want anyone else to do it.” She pleaded. “I’ll be the best for you. Just- you can tell me and I’ll suck you or, or anything you want.” Harry tested it, gently pushing her head back towards his prick- which she immediately took back in her mouth. The perfect, wet heat bringing him back to that filthy place in his head. 

How could she think he could ever say no? She’d been his weakness since she brought him over that damn cupcake. 

“Oh, sweet girl. Anything?” He cooed. “Dangerous thing to promise me. Don’t want anyone else to do it either.” His breathing was getting harder, trying not to thrust his hips up into her mouth and make her take it all. Sure, she’d probably do it, but he still felt the need to be delicate with her. “Take a little more for me, baby. Just like- there, there you go.” He praised, mouth falling open as she did exactly what he wanted. “Gonna make me cum.” 

This felt a million times better than rubbing one out in her bathroom. His legs were near vibrating, the wet sound of her mouth taking him down and the clicks of her hand stroking his spit soaked cock filling her bedroom. This was the last thing he’d expected was her on her knees for him tonight and part of him wasn’t convinced it wasn’t a wet dream, but he was thanking whatever higher power that was up there that his sweet girl had a dirty side to her. One he wanted to be the only one privileged enough to see. 

“In my mouth.” She gasped, pulling up for a moment. “Want to taste you. Please?” 

How could he ever tell her no? 

Pushing her back down on his cock, he let his hips rise up and shallowly thrust into her mouth as she moaned around him, drooling down her chin and letting him use her the way he needed to get off. The best part was knowing she was enjoying it so much. It was a miracle he’d lasted this long already, but he attributed that to shock. She was dirty, his sweet girl, choking slightly on his cock as the tip hit her throat, but she made no move to want to stop. 

His last straw, though, was feeling her hand over his balls, whining around him as he let out his deepest groan yet. It was sloppy and messy and so fucking good that he felt lightheaded, tummy hot and legs weak as he felt himself approach his end. “Fuck, jus’ like that, your fucking mouth is perfect… fuck, fuck, fuck, baby- M’gonna cum, gonna cum, gonna-” His voice failed as his head fell back, lifting his hips as his cum began to pour into her mouth. Ribbon after ribbon coating her throat, pulling back a bit to get it on her tongue while she worked him through it. 

He didn’t realize he had so much in him, but perhaps it was just Y/N that made him cum this much. This hard. His ears rung a bit, curses leaving his mouth as he watched her mouth open and hand stroke him to see the pearly mess on her tongue. At the last little bit,he used his grip on her hair to tug her up to his face. 

“C’mere, sweet girl. Share with me, don’t be greedy.” holding her face while the other had her hair, he pulled back into his lap and her mouth to his and groaned as she licked over his tongue, sharing the remnants of his load with him. It was something a bit nasty and deprived, he knew, but Y/N merely moaned back, her clean hand curling around the back of his neck. 

The kisses slowed from frantic and hot, to softer, slow and sweet. Pecking her lips over and over again, her whimpers melted into giggled as he untangled from her hair, sliding his hand under the shirt she had on to get some bare skin on his fingertips. “Sweetest thing, most beautiful girl.” He murmured between kisses. “Thank you. Best I’ve ever had.” 

“You’re jus’ saying that.” She whispered, though the smile was difficult to wipe off her face. Obviously she liked praise just as much as him. 

“Nope. Mean every word.” He confirmed, rubbing his nose over her cheek. “Thank you, baby. Felt so damn good, can’t feel my legs now.” Harry’d never felt like this after a blowie, both in his legs and the fondness he felt for the girl. If there had been any doubts about his feelings for her whatsoever, they were shattered. He was so far gone for her, it was pathetic. 

“Good.” She smiled, feeling the kiss to his cheek. “I need to finish your skincare, though. So tuck yourself back in, cause m’gonna do that and then brush my teeth again. Though.. I can tell you’ve got a good diet. Tasted nice.” 

Though Harry knew cum never really tasted good, he was chuffed that she hadn’t minded. Even more, that she hadn’t minded indulging in sharing with him. “M’not selfish, I need to help you too.” He reminded, though she merely shook her head. 

“I’ll take a raincheck. M’so tired now, and I want to enjoy it fully.” Pecking his cheek in return, she picked up the moisturizer. “Think you need a lip mask too. Thankfully, you’re in the right hands.” 

Harry was sometimes a selfish lover with hookups and he could admit that, but with Y/N he never wanted to be that way. He wanted to make her feel good, but he could wait. It only made him anticipate it more- there would be a next time. 

“Okay, sweets.” He chuckled. “Do whatever you’d like.”

[xhazzz]

Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Reader

Bagman

warnings: none.

summary: the cute blonde pilot trying to get your number. and you’re Maverick’s daughter, btw.

a/n: hi to anyone who’s reading this, its my first post so i hope you like it. This might be the first part to a small serie about how you and hangman fall in love. Anyway, enjoy. ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIST LENGUAGE, so feel free to correct me if there’s anything wrong :)

masterlist || request’s are open

READER’S POV:

Being back home felt strange, like traveling back in time. I remembered how, when I was a kid, my dad and Uncle Goose would sit Bradley and me on the piano and play and sing for hours. Now, here I was, standing behind the bar helping Penny on a busy night.

The Hard Deck was packed—classic for a Friday night. The jukebox music blended with the chatter of the crowd. The place had been full of naval aviators for over an hour, most of them still in uniform, using it as a strategy to attract women. I recognized a few faces—besides Bradley’s���since I had snooped through my dad’s files on the pilots he’d be training.

“What do I have to do to get the pretty girl behind the bar to give me another round?” one of the pilots asked, leaning his elbow on the bar and placing his empty beer bottles in front of me.

“Maybe you just need to ask nicely,” I said with a smile, grabbing the bottles to swap them for fresh ones. His uniform tag read “Seresin”. He was one of my dad’s squadron members. I wouldn’t deny it—he was very attractive: blond, green eyes, and every bit the charming prince. “Here you go, handsome.”

“Thanks, sweetheart,” he said, taking the beers but staying put, leaning against the bar more comfortably. “And if I wanted your number, would I just have to ask nicely for that, too?”

“Is that the line you use on all the girls?” I teased, crossing my arms over my chest.

“You think I’m one of those guys?” he said, pretending to be offended as he took a sip of his beer, never breaking eye contact. “Ouch.”

“I know pilots. You all pretend to be charming and different from the rest,” I replied with a sigh, wiping the bar with a rag. “You think you’re irresistible and that every girl falls for you—even with a stupid mustache, like Rooster’s.”

He glanced over, laughing, and spotted Rooster playing pool with the other pilots.

“The problem is, you’ve only met Chicken. I’m way better than him,” he said, making me pause and lean on the bar in front of him. Bradley had already told me about him.

“You must be Bagman,” I said, laughing.

“Hangman, sweetheart,” he corrected instantly, winking. Okay, he was very attractive. “How do you know my callsign?”

“Oh, trust me, I know way more than you think,” I said, winking back before turning to serve some other guys who had come up to the bar for refills.

It took me about five minutes to serve everyone, and the whole time, I could feel his eyes on me as he sipped his beer, patiently waiting for me to finish.

“So, since you know who I am, maybe you could reconsider giving me your number,” he said, leaning closer from the other side of the bar.

“I don’t know. I don’t think you’re ready for it.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw my dad walk in and head straight for the bar to take a seat.

“Hey, darlin’. You know my usual,” my dad said with a smile.

I started preparing his whiskey the way he liked it, aware that Hangman was still waiting at the bar.

“I think I’m more than ready. It’s not every day I meet a gorgeous girl like you,” Hangman said. “All I’m asking for is your number—or at least let me buy you a drink.”

I laughed, shaking my head. Poor guy had no idea what he was in for. I garnished my dad’s glass with a slice of lemon and set it in front of him.

“Thanks, sweetheart.”

“No problem, Dad,” I replied, turning to face the blond pilot with my arms crossed. He took a sip of his beer and nearly choked.

“Dad?” he asked, glancing between me and my father.

“Is there a problem, Lieutenant?” my dad asked, taking a sip of his drink.

“No, sir.”, he replied, pressing his lips together.

“Then you’d better keep your fake charm away from my daughter,” my dad added.

I burst out laughing and leaned over to swap out the pilot’s beer.

“I told you, you weren’t ready for my number,” I said with a smirk before walking away to serve someone else. After saying goodnight to my dad, Hangman finally moved over to the pool table where Rooster and the others were.

“Poor guy, Dad. You scared him,” I said, approaching my father.

“I don’t care. No one’s good enough for my little girl,” he said, rubbing my arm affectionately. “Besides, if he’s really interested, he’ll have to work for it.”

The rest of the night passed quietly, picking up glasses and serving drinks until Penny told me I could clock out. Every now and then, I caught the blond pilot glancing my way, and I couldn’t deny I felt a little disappointed when he backed off after realizing my dad would be his coach. Maybe he was a jerk, like Bradley said.

After saying goodbye to Penny and my dad, I grabbed my denim jacket and stepped out of the Hard Deck. My ears welcomed the silence after the noise inside. As I walked toward the street, I heard someone coming out behind me.

“Hey, wait,” Hangman called out. “Have you reconsidered giving me your number?”

“You never quit, do you?” I laughed, crossing my arms.

“Not when it comes to the prettiest girl in the bar,” he said, mimicking my stance and stepping closer.

“You don’t even know my name—and I don’t really know yours, either, Bagman.”

“Hangman. And it’s Jake,” he said, closing the distance between us and extending his hand.

“Nice to meet you, Jake,” I said, shaking his hand. Mine was noticeably smaller than his, but they fit perfectly.

“Now that we’re properly introduced…” he started, still holding my hand.

“If you figure out my name, maybe I’ll give you my number,” I teased, pulling my hand away. “Goodnight, Jake.”

I took a few steps away and glanced back at him. He stood there, shaking his head and laughing softly, hands on his hips.

“Hope you’re free tomorrow night, sweetheart,” he called out loud enough for me to hear as I walked away.

“We’ll see, Bagman,” I replied.

__________________________________________________________

JAKE’S POV:

“Give me 200 more, Hangman,” Maverick shouted with a grin on his face, standing in front of me. This man was enjoying himself.

“What’s up with you, man?” Fanboy asked after finishing his push-ups. “Is it because of that girl last night? The one who didn’t give you her number?”

“She’s not just any girl, dude,” I replied between sets. “She’s Mav’s daughter.”

“No way,” my friend said, laughing. “Maverick’s daughter is what’s got you so distracted today?”

“Shut your mouth,” I muttered, noticing Rooster laughing at me from a distance.

By the end of the day’s training, we were all in the locker room, peeling off our flight suits. While everyone else was chatting about who should buy drinks tonight, I couldn’t stop thinking about her. Not just because I didn’t get her number—though, to be honest, that didn’t happen to me often—but because she was truly stunning. I knew that the more I saw her behind the Hard Deck bar, the more she’d catch my attention.

“So, Hangman… last night you met Daddy’s little girl,” Rooster teased as he pulled on a clean T-shirt, followed by one of his ridiculous Hawaiian shirts. “Must be the first girl who didn’t fall at your feet.”

“Don’t start, Chicken,” I shot back, slamming my locker shut and leaning against it, arms crossed. “I’m sure that happens to you all the time.”

“You wish,” he said. “At least I can call her whenever I want.”

Rooster closed his locker and started walking out of the room.

“Don’t you dare, Bradshaw. I saw her first,” I said, following after him.

“God, how old are you? Eight? What is this, ‘I saw her first’?”

“Shut up, will you?” I sighed. “I can’t deny I’ve been thinking about her all day, and I don’t even know her name. But you, my friend, are going to help me.”

I threw an arm around his shoulders playfully, and he shrugged me off, pushing me away.

“So now we’re friends?” he scoffed, crossing his arms. “Y/N would never go for you anyway.”

“Y/N,” I repeated, biting the inside of my cheek with a grin. “Even her name is cute.”

“She’s not going to be one of your one-night stands, got it, Bagman?” Rooster said, walking toward the exit again.

“Come on, Bradshaw, I just want to take her out to dinner,” I said, trailing after him.

“Why don’t you ask Mav for her number? I’m sure he’d be thrilled to give it to you.”

“Don’t be an idiot, Chicken. I’ll buy you a drink too if that’s what you want.”

Bradley let out a laugh, raising an eyebrow.

“You’ll buy all my drinks this week, and I’ll give you her number,” he said, challenging me.

“You’re insane. I’m not paying for all your drinking this week.”

“Then I’ll call her and ask her out myself,” he said, pulling out the keys to his old Bronco and heading toward it.

Was it worth paying this idiot for Y/N’s number? Even knowing she might turn me down again—and that her dad would punish me in every damn training session? Screw it. I’d take the risk.

“Deal,” I said, catching up to him at his truck.

“What?” Rooster asked, incredulous.

“I’ll cover your tab this week, as long as you give me her number and stay out of my way, Chicken.”

The idiot just laughed, pulling out his phone and typing on it. Seconds later, I got a notification—he’d sent me her contact info.

“Pleasure doing business with you, Bagman,” he said, climbing into his truck. “And just so you know, I wasn’t planning on asking her out. She’s like a sister to me, you idiot.”

“You’re an asshole, Bradshaw,” I shouted as he drove off.

______________________________________________________

READER’S POV:

I had just gotten out of the shower when my phone started ringing. “Unknown number.”

“Hello?” I answered, putting it on speaker while wrapping myself in a towel.

“Hi, Y/N,” said a voice on the other end. It was the blonde pilot from the Hard Deck.

“How did you get my number, Bagman?”

“It’s Jake to you, sweetheart,” he said. Even though I couldn’t see him, I knew he had that stupid grin on his face. “So, are you finally going to let me take you to dinner?”

“Don’t you ever get tired?” I asked, sitting on the edge of my bed.

“Not when it comes to the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

I laughed and stayed quiet for a few seconds.

“Pick me up in 30 minutes. I’ll send you the address,” I said, smiling.

“At your service, ma’am..” he replied, and I hung up.

It was just dinner with Hangman. What could possibly go wrong?

[hocktuah]

ｃａｓｕａｌｔｉｅｓ

☆ ｎ. ｈｉｓｃｈｉｅｒ ☆

summary: you & nico agreed to keep things casual, but ten seconds into the third period of tonight’s home game & a costly injury changes the fate of your affair indefinitely. (warning: mentions of bodily injury, allusions to smut, and a reference to my blurb, ‘learning the game’ — read at your own discretion!)

genre: angst + happy ending

word count: 3.9k

You swear the last eight seconds were a nightmare Nico would wake you up from with his husky voice and dewy lips against clammy skin. As the gaps between his eyelids remain dazed, and the grimace on his face persists, though, you find yourself pinching the skin on your forearm for confirmation. What you just witnessed on his flat screen wasn’t a figmentation—the team captain you love was undoubtedly harmed on the ice. It is a vast juxtaposition to the end of the second period, where he’d scored his second natural hat trick of his career and beamed under the rain of toques, baseball caps, and what looked to be a fairly immodest brassiere. You take no acknowledgment of the last-mentioned and instead celebrate with him as though you are in the rink with the rest of the chanting crowd. At one point, you whipped out your cell phone and texted him: So proud of you, call me when you can! <3 In the quiet apartment located on the outskirts of New Jersey, you cheered boastfully during the swap of the goalie nets, and squealed to nobody in particular, “That’s my boyfriend!”

There was nobody you could announce it to. As far as your friends and family know, your relationship with Nico hasn’t passed into the territory of exclusive, which was true at the start. A few coffee dates here, and a Sunday hike there are all that you’ve indulged their prying ears in for the last year. The late-night phone calls, extra team hoodie with his last name and number emblazoned on the back, and key to his home you now shared stayed confidential. Even Nico’s teammates–the ones he would go as far as to call “brothers”--probably knew less than your mother did.

The idea of keeping your relationship private never bothered you much, though. You’d never been the type to kiss and tell. (A hottie lamottie ice hockey captain is no exception.) Plus, Nico’s inclination to protect you from both the limelight and vulturous media teams made the option to object when he insisted it would be best for the two of you a moot point. Were you exhilarated by the late-night rendezvous spent in some hole-in-the-wall dive bar, or the thrilling mission to keep what you two had like a dirty little secret? Not necessarily. But you trust him with your whole heart, and that is reason enough for you.

★☆★☆★ ★☆★☆★

“Any reason for the undercover gear?” Nico’s eyes did all the gesturing for him as he viewed your ensemble. He vowed to be the only person present at The Prudential Center (or “The Rock” as he refers to it) for your private tour of his workplace. True to his word, the arena is soaked in an eerie silence with only two bodies occupying it. Minus the rooting fans, referees and red uniforms, it could pass for a game night. He refused to spill how he managed to have this okayed by the building owners, management, etc. You remembered him shrugging at your gawk when he first proposed it, flashing his teeth as he answered, “Perks of being captain.”

This time, it was you who played innocent. As you stared up into his curious eyes, you hoped he wouldn't read your lustful intentions easily. “Just wanted to try something new.” The khaki dress mimicking a trench coat skirted your calves as he guided you past the bleachers, penalty boxes and player seating. When you adjourned to the locker rooms, an unmistakable flare of sweat and metal singed your nostrils but Nico paid no mind to it. As long as he’d been working here, he’d probably ask what smell you’re referring to if you commented on it.

“Alright, Schatz, let’s put some gear on you and I think you’ll be ready to skate.” Nico unlatched the hinge to a spare locker, where spare padding was stowed away from prying eyes. While his back was toward you, a tentative hand began toying with the bound knot at the front of the gown. “I hope you don’t run cold, I forgot to sneak an extra pair of gloves in here since the last game. What are you wearing under there anyway?” He turned back to face you and stiffened at the sight of your naked figure, and the aforementioned dress forgotten in a pile beside you.

“Oh…” He didn’t hesitate to approach you with a slow-building smirk. Mirth lingered in his eyes as his fingers took purchase of your hips and drew your body closer to his. A chill trickled down your spine from the icy fingerprints that left indents on your skin, and you could feel your nipples begin to harden with the lack of cloth. Scratchy chuckles echoed throughout the room, as desire rolled off of you in waves. The mutual yearning was palpable in his voice.“Guess that answers my question.”

“What can I say? We wagered. And I’m a woman of my word.” A delighted hum escaped him, as he started rubbing teasing circles in the spaces of your lower ribs.

“That you are.”

The wager in question was a spur-of-the-moment stake you offered last night prior to the game. You were wishing him luck from the other side of the phone after flipping to the channel the game would be broadcasted from, and his confidence was deflating by the second as he rambled on about how the last few practice days were going awry, and the games before those were an even bigger shit show. He needed motivation, and you were elated to offer it.

“Why don’t we make things interesting?”

“What do you mean?”

Biting your lip, you asked him “Is anyone around?”

“Just me. Why?”

“Every goal you score, I’ll reward you.”

“Reward me, huh?” His voice morphed into a more uppity tone. “How so?”

“Use your imagination. And tell me what you come up with…good luck, baby.”

“Wait, Y/N-” You hung up the phone before he could ask if you were insinuating what he thought you were. No more than an hour later, he’d be scoring the first natural hat trick and beaming for two different reasons.

“I’ve thought of a few different ways you could reward me…” his hot breath and coarse mustache tickled the shell of your ear as he pressed a kiss below it. “You ready?”

“I’m all yours, cap.” Minutes later, the placid locker room was overflowing with moans and pants and other debauchery.

★☆★☆★ ★☆★☆★

“I’ll tell you now folks, this is the nastiest hit we’ve seen one of the Devils take in a while. Let’s see that again.” Per the commentator’s cue, the television and all its high-definition project the casualty from a new (and arguably better) angle. The rubber puck glides in the air of the rink after being whomped by the stick of an opposing team member. Against the wall of the rink, Nico never takes his eyes from the disc until the last moment, when a burly player sporting a jersey of differing colors checks him harshly against the bordering plexiglass, and the wobbling saucer collides into the shield protruding from his helmet.

You couldn’t hold back your wince at the gruesome replay, much like analysts who are now rattling off about a possible power play for the home team. You wish to see how bad the extent of his injuries truly are instead of what caused them with a small clue that “Hischier will be taking a visit to the sports med in the dressing room for that one.” The camera cuts back to his red jersey retreating past the stands as he clutches his side and limps away with assistance from one of the refs. When the cameraman pans over to the sanitization team scraping crimson droplets from the ice, you are already exiting the door with Nico’s car keys clutched in a fist.

Amidst your night drive to Prudential Stadium, you listen hopelessly to the radio static while flipping from station to station. The dimly lit street lamps and traffic only build your anxiety to new heights, as you cruise through any side roads at her disposal. “Come on, come on…” you murmur, unsure if the plea is for the next station to be discussing tonight’s game or hoping the wind will catch your begs and carry them to Nico’s ear. The unharmonious crackling and overplayed pop hits persist, before being broken up by two familiar voices.

“...been a monumental night for the New Jersey Devils as they’re close to celebrating the fifth win of their season.”

“Yes.” You hiss victoriously.

“And it looks like we’re still waiting on an update from the medical team on the captain, Nico Hischier, who took a pretty hard hit earlier tonight.” A knot slowly tightens in your stomach as you press your foot to the gas pedal and barrel through a yellow light. “It didn’t look pretty when he was being escorted off the ice, and I know some fans watching the game tonight are pretty devastated. The rest of the team is staying determined though, as the opposing player at fault only got put in a two-minute penalty during the powerplay at the beginning of this quarter.” Your grip around the steering wheel tightens.

“Bastard shouldn’t be allowed back on the ice at all.” You spit.

As you navigate through the congested arena’s parking lot for a free space, you feel foolish. What would he think to see you in person at one of his games? Drawing unwanted attention and interrogative questions about the relationship that neither of you had discussed proper answers to is all the reason for keeping this affair hush-hush. Would he pretend like you’re just another fan in the crowd supporting her home team? Would he drop his eyelid in a wink and skate off with a smug smirk? More importantly, what would you do in that position? How would you even get inside without a pass—

How are you expected to be let inside at all?

Before you can fall victim to a deeper thought spiral, the sound of your boyfriend’s name brings your attention back to the radio.

“And it looks like the medical team is coming to us with an update on Hischier. We’ll be back with that after these messages from our sponsors.”

“Unbelievable.” You scowl and lean back against the rough polyester car seat. The silence and not knowing are becoming torturous for you minute by minute. Sparing a glance in the rearview mirror, red watery eyes woefully greet you. “Please be okay, baby, please…” You cry out, yearning for his warm embrace or his fuzzy voice to sing you a lullaby or scruffy beard to tickle your skin in between relieved kisses. “Please be okay.” Your voice comes out raspy as you turn your gaze to the glove box. Feeling sticky and snotty from the tears, you unlatch the compartment’s handle and relish in the sight of his secret stash of drive-thru napkins. Your clammy, trembling hands grab a few for good measure but halt at the sight of a red, velvet cube peeking out of the rest of the impromptu tissues.

You peer from car window to car window, observing the empty parking lot and settling your gaze back on the box. Wasting no more time, your napkin-free hand rushes to grab it and flick on the interior light in the process. You fling the lid open and almost begin crying again. The gemstone encrusted in diamonds glints beneath the yellowed wash, and it takes little time to deduce that the ring wasn’t a simple splurge, but one of the first steps to forever with Nico.

As the commercials over the radio conclude, your phone begins buzzing in sync with it. Jumping in fright, you delicately close the box to tuck it away in your hoodie pocket. The phone illuminates the inside of the car even more with a photo of Nico taken just a month ago.

★☆★☆★ ★☆★☆★

His eyes peeled open at the sound of a camera shutter, and your whispered swears. The cool bed sheets splayed over your bodies coaxed him awake, as he exhaled sharply through his nose, and while you fiddled distractedly with the volume of your phone, Nico took the chance to tighten his hold on your hips and position himself above you. You squeaked between devious giggles, hand still clutching your phone with a small smile. He drew his face closer to yours and relished in the sweet aroma of your conditioner. In a few instances, his hair reeked of the same sugary fragrance and you had to bite back a smile at his usual excuse: “s’not my fault yours smells better.”

“Whatcha doin’?” He asked innocently.

“Nothing.” Your response was just as harmless, but his eyes flickered down to the phone being pressed further against your chest, and he quickly became skeptical. He emitted a low hum, and you bit your lip to shield a grin.

“That so?” He tried again.

“Yup.” The answer is curt and accumulated more suspicion when complemented by reddened cheeks. Another low hum escaped him as he nuzzled his bearded face into the crevice of your neck and shoulder. After he pressed a chaste kiss to your skin, he rambled something in German, far beyond your comprehension.

“Du hast glück, dass ich dich liebe, Schnügel.”

“You love me and want to…snuggle?” You tried translating anyway and earned a few quiet laughs in response. The vibration of his laughs against your body kindled a homely warmth in the depths of your stomach. You never dealt with the fabled butterflies when it came to Nico, only a burning comfort that never seemed to be extinguished.

“I want you to show me what you’re hiding.” He once again attempted to reach for your phone, which you slid beneath the pillow, barely out of his grasp.

“Uh-uh, don’t think so.”

“Is it a sequel to Hockey for Dummies?” He guessed. You scoffed and shook your head.

“Nope.”

He gasped and raised his eyebrows. Something tantalizing swirled in his eyes as he continued to prod, “Is it…a naughty picture of you?” His voice lowered to a whisper.

“No.” You whispered back and giggled, squirming embarrassed beneath him. “You got to see all of me last night, anyway, perv.”

“Can’t blame a guy for trying.” He shrugged. “So what is it then? Do you have a secret shrine dedicated to me that you’re adding to, or something?” You snorted and rolled your eyes.

“If a couple of old t-shirts and a bottle of your shampoo count as a shrine, then yes. That’s precisely it.” He gasped.

“That’s all?” Feigning agony, he flopped down to his original spot on the mattress. Like a soldier wounded on the battlefield, his hand that was once teasing the skin around your hip reached up to clutch his heart. “Here I was, thinking you truly loved me. I have books you’ve read, a blanket you’ve knitted, even the perfume you wore to dinner last night.”

“Maybe because I brought that bottle of perfume over last night, you goof.” The knitted blanket was gifted to him last winter by her, too. You’d be more offended had he not mentioned it. Playfully, you poked him. “Anyway, I’d probably have more of your stuff to show off if you…” Your voice trailed off, as did her gaze on the comforter still haphazardly covering them. Nico knew where you were going with the sentence, though. He admitted to you and himself on several occasions you weren't deserving of the commute to his home, nor the excuses of work always getting in the way of nights they could be spending together at your humble abode. And humble, it was. The first night he stayed over at your studio apartment he felt like he’d been crammed into a pintrest-ified dollhouse. You argue that the limited space makes it more “cozy” .

“I know, meine liebe, I know." His hand rose to entangle in her locks, and the feeling of his digits as they ran through her messy tendrils was near orgasmic. You reached to reclaim her phone beneath the pillowcase and frowned at the screen which still displayed a photo of him as he blissfully snoozed.

“Sometimes it gets hard, not waking up next to you.” The realization dawned on Nico, then. This was not about having two separate places to talk, eat, and sleep together whenever they preferred. It’s about the fact that they have not discussed narrowing it down to one. He shifts his gaze to the nightstand, where your retainer case stayed. Then they flickered to the top drawer of his chest, where a piece of your cheeky briefs dangled precariously on the corner. Your body wash settled in the corner of his bathtub rail. You, a mesmerizing sight to behold as you laid lackadaisical in his shirt and under his sheets. Nico concluded he didn’t want bits and pieces anymore. He wanted the whole damn package. He wants all of you.

“Come on, up.” He insisted as he jostled her arm.

“Huh?” Confused, you followed his lead and crawled out of bed anyway to join him at the foot of it. “Where are we going?” He couldn’t hide his grin. There had been no him or her since their first month together. It was always both of them.

“To make a copy of my house key for you.” Your eyes widened, and now he’d felt unsure for jumping at the opportunity. “Unless you plan to pick the lock every time I’m not here–”

Your body collided with his in an instant, aglow with radiance and devotion for the man that stood in front of you. “Yes, please.” You answered as though it were a proposal, rather than a gentle command on his part.

Proposal. He pondered the word to himself on the drive to the nearest handy store, sparing glances at you every few moments that you weren’t looking back. Is that what’s next for the two of you?

“Did you want to stop for coffee on the way? You never got to make your morning cup.” You gently reminded, before adding with a sly smirk, “Plus, we did keep each other up pretty late last night.”

But Nico didn’t need to keep second-guessing with you.

All the answers were simple because all of them were yes.

★☆★☆★ ★☆★☆★

Through her discovery and onslaught of tears, you muster a fond smile and answer the call.

“N-neeks?” You get out through stuttering breaths.

“Love, are you crying? What happened?” You wanted to hug him and slap him across the face at the same time for the idiotic question.

“What do you mean ‘what happened?’ Twenty minutes ago you got slammed to the floor and a hockey puck to the face, that’s what happened!” You catch a quiet wince on the other end of the line and are now wanting to slap yourself. “Are you okay?”

“I’m…I’m fine.”

“Nico…”

“I swear I’m okay. Just had a bruised rib and a couple of cuts on my cheek. The sports doctor just left and cleared me for our game two weeks from now.”

“No broken bones?”

“Nope.”

“Heart’s still beating?”

“It better be, or my girlfriend’s gonna kill me.” He coughs out a few laughs, but you can feel the hurt behind them.

“Um…I was so freaked out when I saw them lead you to the dressing room that I drove here.” You sniffle, looking up at the car’s roof.

“Wait you–you’re at the stadium right now?”

“Yeah, pretty stupid of me considering I can’t go inside.” Nico wants to ask what’s stopping you before it dawns on him; you have no ticket, no pass to the locker rooms, not even acknowledged to be related to any member of the team like the other WAGS (“As in Wives and Girlfriends” he remembers you telling him).

“Meine Liebe, where are you parked?” Amidst all of the turmoil tonight’s put the two of you through, you manage a dry laugh.

“Nico, you can’t sneak out in the middle of your own game.” Part of you hopes his injury warrants omitting the post-game interviews, photo ops, and everything else in between, so you won’t be wasting much more time in the humming car.

“What? No, of course not.” He insists, “I’m sneaking you in.” Your laughter turns to a choke.

“Excuse me? That’s a ridiculous idea!” You want to add the fact that nobody would recognize you, let alone be as amicable as they are to Nico. As pure as your intentions are, you’re still a stranger. A foreign body. (And to some very appreciative fans, a threat.)

He exhales something between a breath of relief and a humored laugh. You hear it bounce off of the locker room walls. “Petal, I don’t know if I can hide you any longer. I-I don’t want to. Do you?” He volleys you the question, and the weight of the velvet box nestled in your pocket increases ten-fold.

“No. I don’t think I’ve wanted us to be a secret for a while…” You admit through a wobbling lip.

“Where are you parked?” He asks once again. The buzzer sounds through his end of the phone, and this time you aren’t reluctant to answer.

His appearance was like a car wreck you couldn’t look away from. The disheveled hair (once slicked and combed) and patchwork of bandages and bruises on ivory skin was gut-churning to view up close, but before you could properly scold him, his swollen lips were greeting yours in a sentimental reunion. Bodies we’re filing into the corridor as you did so. A chattering stream of staff, coaches, players, and WAGS come at you head on like a wave.

“Woah, Hischier! We leave you alone for half a period and you manage to find a girlfriend?” A deep, accented voice slices through the invisible line your mouths convene at, and you turn your attention to the source. A brawny figure topped with blonde hair marches up to you in a striking red jersey matching Nico’s. You glance at the number 63 on his sleeve, and it only confirms your assumptions. Jesper Bratt was exactly as Nico described him to be, chaff jokes and all.

Another body donned in red pushes past Jesper’s to stand before you. He leans down, and says with a monkeying smile and voice just loud enough for those around to hear, “Ma’am, if you’re in any danger, blink twice.” You glance down at his sleeve, too. 86. Luke Hughes, you think, or is it Jack?

“Oh, fuck off!” Nico’s arm stretches out to shove him away, before situating the limb around your waist. When his hand bumps into a firm object poking out the side of your pocket. He stiffens beside you immediately, and you gulp as if you’d done something worthy of punishment. Of course, you were going to bring it up one way or another to him later in the night after all the post-game chaos had ticked by, but you suppose him finding out this way works just as well. The players forming a crowd around the two of you only grows, and they’re too caught up in laughing at their antics to notice their captain’s ungiving posture.

“Well, you gonna introduce us, or what?” Luke, (definitely Luke) queries. In the center of eyes and lingering questions, Nico’s whiskey ones connect with yours for a silent proposal. Without wasting any more time, you nod.

“Everyone, this is Y/N, my fiancée.”

[gguk-n]

Helloo! can you please do a red bull reader fem with multiple wdc x jungkook with him being jealous of her friendship with Max n charles? there friendship is like crackhead fluff types

thank you

Hope I did this justice

Driven By Jealousy

Jungkook had some time left before he was supposed to enlist, so he was ticking stuff he wanted to do with his girlfriend off of his list.

1.Go to watch a movie in a movie theatre. Jungkook was in Spain, ARMY were pretty good at recognising him but some how, the skies were shining down on him and he didn't get recognised once. He would've booked the place to themselves so that they would have their privacy but Y/N wanted to experience a full movie theatre. So, that's why they were sat together as the movie started until Y/N's friends showed up. Now Jungkook was sat trying to fight for her attention. He knew they were all just friends but a part of him was petty, he might have made her swap seats so that he could have her all to himself.

2. Go out for a romantic dinner . Jungkook was a romanticist at heart. He had planned a fancy dinner out at Y/N's favourite sushi restaurant in Japan after the race. He opened the doors for her, he pulled out a chair for her. They were eating their sushi while Y/N went on an on about her race and Jungkook listened with the biggest smile until her phone rang. It had been vibrating with messages but she was too busy to notice. She answered the call; "Hey Y/N, I know bad time but I think I left my charger in your room" Max said. "Do you need the key?" she asked. "Yes" he sheepishly answered. "I'll be there in half an hour" she said. Jungkook had a whole date planned and right now Max was getting on his nerve. The date did derail, they drove to the hotel, Jungkook opened the door for Max to grab his charger, he didn't let Y/N get out of the car since he could do it faster. The real reason was, he didn't want Max to see how pretty she looked right now, he had enough competition as is.

3. Go and watch your girlfriend race. Ever since they had started dating both of them wanted to tell people. Keeping their mouth shut or having the other drivers keep their mouth shut was a difficult task. So, Jungkook was finally at the RedBull Hospitality as Y/N's plus one. There was buzz at the race, news spread like wild fire that Y/N was dating the Jeon Jungkook of BTS. Jungkook was stood at the side watching his girlfriend laugh with her teammate Max. He watched how Max's hand would linger for a little longer than he would like, he watched her laugh really hard as they were on the driver's parade. Sometimes, Jungkook felt like she smiled more with them than with him. He couldn't help but be jealous, there he said it, he didn't think he was that type of boyfriend but apparently he was, he was a jealous boyfriend. Y/N noticed the way Jungkook would start pouting when her attention wasn't on him.

"Your boyfriend is shooting daggers at me" Charles commented as he helped Y/N get up on the bus. Y/N turned around and smiled at Jungkook, "He is not" she replied. "Oh he is" Max corrected. "That day when I needed my charger and he came, I thought he would kill me for disrupting your date" Max elaborated. "He couldn't hurt a fly" she chuckled. "I'm gonna place my hand on your waist, then I'll tell you to turn around, you should see his eyes" Lando said placing his hand on her waist, "Now" Lando said and Y/N turned around. She saw Jungkook look at Lando angrily but his eyes softened as he noticed Y/N looking. She smiled and then turned around to them, "Well, I find it cute. He should be angry at any man trying to touch me" she stated. "That's all fun and games, until one of us ends up dead in a ditch" Charles laughed. "You guys over estimate my bunny, he's too cute" she cooed. "Both of them are hopeless" Max lamented shaking his head.

After the race, she had come looking for him; he was sat in the driver's room all pouty and huffing. "Is my baby jealous?" she asked sitting on his lap. Jungkook placed his hands on her waist, she smelled of champagne and sweat; "You smell like alcohol" he sniffed. "Your favourite" she laughed. "Hey" Jungkook whined. She cupped his cheeks and kissed his lips, "You're cute when you're jealous" she commented. "You make me so drunk" he smiled back. "No changing the topic, Kookie. I love you and only you. Those guys I've know them since I was in diapers. They are like the annoying brothers I didn't ask for" she explained. "I know, but they get to have you all the time" he pouted. "Aww, baby. Well, you get to have me for the rest of my life" she smiled triumphantly. Jungkook blushed and pulled her in with a kiss, "I think I should let them know who you belong to" he hummed nipping on her neck. "What happened to Koreans being conservative?" she groaned. "Not the time or place" Jungkook moaned grinding up against her.

[alkelkha]

𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐄𝐓. chapter three

relationship — jinx/powder x fem!blk coded reader

contents&warnings! : wc: 2.7k | post season 2 | lower-case indented | fluff | angst and i'm not comforting you this ch | lowkey unreliable narrator (jinx) | sexual tension if you squint | swapping spit with candy | beach episode | reader is implied to have big boobs | author attempt to write bpd splitting | reader and jinx get into an argument | not everything is sunshine and rainbows, friendship takes work and patience | not beta read | yes i am making this up along i go | PLEASE GIVE ME IDEAS FOR FUTURE CHAPTERS |

❛❛ OF COURSE, WE'RE FRIENDS ❜❜

WEEK ONE

after the two of you ran until the sunset it was awkward from there. jinx felt guilty— which she knew she shouldn’t, but she couldn’t help it. she practically begged you to be her friend and now chickening out like a pussy every time you get close.

she didn’t know how to be a friend. what does she do? give you hugs? scary!

you on the other hand?

you got comfortable immediately, going to the shop every day, hanging out with her rambling, and asking questions on her latest projects. jinx tried doing the same but there was this twisty turny feeling in her stomach when she tried. she was scared of how you would react.

she wants this. she wants your friendship, she needs it.

maybe it was because she finally cared what someone thought of her. someone that wasn’t silco or vi or isha.

she had to be vulnerable. 

fortunately, you didn't have any of it. you were the type of person to confront the problems ahead. communication was important to you which jinx hated, but appreciated simultaneously. it was beyond uncomfortable. at least it told her how much you valued this friendship between the two of you. you were willing to work things out.

“what does this device do?” your hand ran over the contraption, and with one move, you were covered in glitter. you slowly turned to jinx, looking at her with a deadpan, “don’t laugh—“

jinx nearly falls off her seat from laughing.  

this was painfully new to jinx. being called a ‘friend’, calling someone else her ‘friend’ was treading on unknown territory.

the way bubbles that formed in her heart the day she said yes burst every time you smiled at her as she ranted. that was sweeter than any candy you've given her.

you listen to her when she talks. you laugh at her dumb jokes. you walk with her around the plaza. you stay with her while she works on one of her (harmless) gadgets when you don’t have work. 

she was starting to understand the hype around having a friend. who knew sharing meals with someone made food taste even better? having a friend meant she could talk for hours on end and be met with a voice that wasn’t tearing her down.

is she doing it right? maybe. she isn’t sure herself.

grabbing a cloth, you wiped down your face. it didn’t help much. powder’s laughter wasn’t any help either. 

“you’re helping me clean that up, sprinkles.” powder tosses you a broom with a grin on her lips.

WEEK TWO

stalking your friend is totally normal. there’s nothing wrong in making sure your friend gets to work safely, especially when there’s a gang after her. besides, is it really stalking if she’s hiding in plain sight? she just so happened to blend in with the colorful scenery of flosnum. much like herself, flosnum loves colors.

pink and orange powder that you can get from kicking plot plants. beautifully painted murals. colorful homes. it was a colorblast.

and just like the good friend she is, she knows your schedule by heart!

you wake up around seven am, ready for the day at about eight-thirty, do a bunch of random stuff after that, and show up at her house or shop at eleven am to hang out. on weekends and wednesdays, you work the afternoon shift. mondays and fridays are your days off. the rest you work at night.

you can't blame her for it, she has no idea what she would do if you got hurt. she’s finally settling down, and that took 10 mental breakdowns.

sometimes, while following you, she'll get distracted and end up at the ice cream truck. after trying out all the poor old man could offer, cotton candy became her favorite.

what was she doing again? oh yeah!

your work was demanding, which is odd because she’s been at bars. hell, she grew up at one. she knew what they were like, and it certainly wasn't supposed to be what you were doing. she had never seen a bartender work so hard. powder was pretty sure the job wasn’t supposed to be this intense. 

SEVEN CHIMES was just like its home flosnum with a mature air. paper lanterns that would illuminate a variety of colors and shadows of white stars on the ceiling some days. weekends it would be packed and that was one of those days. 

you were exactly the same while you worked. the customers loved you. even if they were drunk, the only type of handsy they would get is an arm swing around your shoulder. 

your coworker, stella is what you called her, kept your eyes on you a bit too long. stella’s eyes trailed your body up and down before meeting powder’s.

they locked eyes. 

with a smirk, stella broke the contact eye.

.

.

.

okay, what the fuck was the smirk about?

powder slumps down in her seat from the corner of the bar. she already knew she wasn’t going to like her. who the hell did that girl think she was? does she want to fight? because powder will! feeling her eyes twitch she looked down to slip on her pink fuzzy drink.

“baby blue?”

jinx's eyes shot up to the voice. it was you! in all your glory, the blue light hitting your pretty dark skin, wearing that smile the same way you wore the stupid bronze turtle necklace around your neck. pretty.

after she was done checking you out a frog got fixed in her throat. she's been caught. wait! it’s not the end of the world yet. she could just brush it off as a simple visit! perfect plan.

“why did you tell me you were here?” you sit down on the opposite side of the table as her. “stella told me 'a certain blue-haired girl' had been 'keeping her eyes on me.'”

ohhhh, so that’s why she smirked.

snitch.

“just wanted a drink.” powder shrugs and keeps sipping down her drink. 

“you could’ve said hi, ya know? now i feel bad for you sitting here all alone.” you frown.

“you say that like i’m going type of loner!” powder scoffs. you raise an eyebrow as if you’re saying ‘are you not?’.

she furrows her brows, “i am not!” she defended herself.

“i never said—“

“you were going to!” 

you leaned back and sighed. that struck something in jinx. she’s got you annoyed.

shit.

now you were probably thinking of breaking it off with her and never seeing her face again. she should’ve known. she shouldn’t have gotten attached. “I’m sorry—“

“come on blue,” you interrupt her, getting out of your seat. “my shift just ended, and i’m starving!” you take her cold hand in your warm one, pulling her out of the bar.

WEEK THREE

blue was mysterious— was.

this girl bounced off walls. no filter. talks back to old mean people who gave you a hard time. she had to be constantly doing something or doing nothing. no in-between. you adapted to it.

she's unlike anyone you’ve ever met. 

the shop you gave her? now her hideout. she completely renovated it in her own style. remember that broken illuminating sign? now the sign had no words it was a…

monkey?

you think it was. you saw it often in her work. you’re guessing it was her signature. 

you liked moments like this. standing behind her, brushing her short hair mindlessly. her hair grew really fast, it was almost to her shoulders now.

jinx tinkered on the glitter bomb that exploded in your face three weeks ago. her tongue stuck out the corner of her mouth in concentration.

it was odd. her hair. not that it was bad, she somehow pulled it off amazingly, but you can’t help but think that this was a recent cut. “why did you cut your hair this way?” you asked.

she pauses her work and looks up, leaning back in her chair to get a better look at you. “what, don’t like it?” your heart jumped at the sight of her.

she was so cute. wide pink eyes, blue eyeshadow, dark lipstick, and glitter stains on her face. 

“no, just curious,” you spoke softly. powder’s eyes trail away from you as she thinks about whether she should answer your question.

in the meantime, you noticed some dark grease on the corner of her mouth. it was nagging at you, she was dangerously close to eating it if she were to lick her lips.

taking your thumb you lick it and then wipe it off of her. the action caused her to scrunch up her face a bit but she didn’t pull away. “it was a weakness.” she answered your question, “my hair was wayyy too long, practically dragged it on the ground.” she shrugged still looking up at you. 

“plus, i needed some change.” jinx made her hand into a gun and slowly raised it up to you, “pow.” she pretended to shoot you. 

“shooting me now?” your voice amused, raising a brow at her.

“you should’ve dodged it,” she shrugs, looking back down to her work. she set it down on the workbench and spun her chair around, “now you’re dead,” she got up from her seat to get another tool. "sucker."

“i thought you liked me!” you grumble, her back was now turned to you. 

“just a little.” she plays into it and turns around. 

her eyes widened to see you point a sucker to her head, with a smirk on your face, “now, you’re dead.”

“oh, so that’s how you wanna play, princess?” she puts her hand on her hip.

“you started it, cutie.” you unwrap the sucker, placing it in your mouth.

she narrows her eyes at you with a frown. a cute frown. you could tell she wasn’t really angry. she takes the sucker out of your mouth and places it in hers. 

your breath hitched. this should not be affecting you the way it is. the heat that coursed through your body went straight up to your face. jinx leaning closer didn’t help, you could envision her tongue swirling around the candy.

oh fuck.

WEEK FOUR

the warm softly grainy sand slipped between jinx’s toes as she stood barefoot on the beach. the beach was bustling. children darting around, teenagers around playing volleyball, and locals dancing to the music that filled the air.

she sits down on the blanket you placed down. “you’ve gotten tanner, blue.” you say as you just finished applying sunscreen on yourself.

she didn’t even know what sunscreen was until she crashlanded her. “you used to be a ghost, now look at you.” she wasn’t tan, she was still pretty fair, but she wasn’t as white as a ghost the first time she got here.

you sat on your legs in front of her with your hand lathered up with sunscreen. you slowly approached her giving her the time to pull away. she didn’t. you applied the sunscreen on her tattooed arms.

jinx didn't need you to do this. she could’ve done it herself, but your touch was nice…

also because of the view it was giving her. “now, where have you been hiding these bazongas!?”

"I've had these the whole time" you deadpan at her, get up and crawl away to the other side of the blanket.

"never out in the open like this!" she bursts out laughing at your reaction. “wait, wait! come back, pretty lady!” she grabs onto your wrist, pulling you closer. 

she was terrifyingly strong for someone so thin. “you’re no better than a man!” you yelp but don’t pull away (not that you could). 

“can a girl appreciate some beauty?” she huffs, wrapping her arms around your waist and pulling your back to her chest. “not my fault they’re right in front of me.” she pokes at them. jinx bit her lip to contain her laughter.

the clear blue water shimmered in the sun like it was a jewel. jinx clung onto your back, arms around your neck, and legs wrapped around your waist. fun fact! jinx can’t swim. “you’re such a baby.” you giggle, she puts her cheek on yours.

the both of you spent the time in the ocean teaching her how to swim or trying to kill each other by splash wars (you almost went blind because of her).

it was sunset. the both of you laid down on the blanket under you, looking up into the now pink sky. powder held onto your hand and you gladly held it with the same intensity.

“i like this, toots.” she turns her head to you but you don’t seem to notice. your eyes were fixated on the sky, you hand slightly loosened your grip.

your face drops into an annoyed expression, “i like this too.” foolishly you let out a tired sigh.

jinx's mind swirls.

she lying to you! she doesn’t mean it, do you see the way she replied? you’re such an idiot for trusting her. she’s probably only hanging out with you out of pity.

jinx shook her head, “you sure? you don’t sound like you did.” her voice offended.

you finally looked back at her. “sorry, baby blue. i’m just tired—“

she scoffs. “tired? tired of me? i thought we were having fun!” she sat up.

taken aback by her reaction you quickly backtracked what you said. you didn’t want to make this any worse. you got up to level with her, “no, no. of course not tired of you. i love hanging out with you, baby blue.” with that you seemed to get through to her, her face relaxed.

she’s tired of you. she’s tired of you. she’s tired of you. she’s tired of you. she’s tired of you. she’s tired of you. she’s tired of you. she’s tired of you.

jinx’s jaw clenches. why would you be tired of her? that doesn’t make sense! she’s made sure you had fun this whole time. yeah, at the beginning of your friendship, she chickened out a bit but you forgave her. yeah, she would pull stupid pranks but you love them. so why would you be so rude?

she looked into your warm eyes. “you’re lying to me!” she rips her hand away from yours. why are you lying to her? jinx’s eyebrows furrowed, jaw tensed and her forehead held creases.

“i’m sorry, blue. i just got stressed—“

“if you were stressed why would you come here in the first place? if you’re not having fun just say so, you didn’t have to fake it and lead me on the whole day.” she stood up and you did the same.

“what?” like an idiot, you laugh at the situation happening right now. “i never said all of that. honey, if you let me finish my sentence you would understand.”

now she’s laughing at you, she’s not even trying to hide it!

“shut up!” jinx shouts and you quickly pipe down. her breath came out in heavy pants. hands trembling over her ears. her mind was in overdrive. she was thinking about everything. about how you hate her. about how this was doomed from the start.

she should’ve known, no way someone would actually want a genuine connection with her. it’s not like you could ever understand her.

she points her finger out accusingly, “you think this is a laughing matter? you think i’m a joke!” 

your voice got caught up in your throat. this was insane. she was insane. she was just making up things on the spot to play the victim. you suck in a breath and shake your head. “what’s wrong with you?”

those words left like a gunshot to her heart. 

told ya.

jinx. 

not that you had to work hard to get to this point. wasn’t like she liked you to begin with.

hot, frustrated tears welled up in her eyes, her nails dug into the palm of her hand, letting blood drop freely onto the blanket under the two of you. an uncomfortable silence hung in the air, thick and stifling.

her glare at you intensified, a flicker in her pink eyes of… betrayal? a step back, followed by another, soon, she left you alone on the beach.

this was a mistake.

TAGLIST: @millie2point0 @powderbomb-jinxed @velvetinkbym

[stevieschrodinger]

Part One ThirtyFive

prompt from @justsearchingformystory and @starthecozy

Eddie’s speaking and reading and writing and all that stuff has come on massively, but he still doesn’t quiet grasp all the nuances of...well, humans. So, sometimes he does things that are just...kind of slightly to the left of normal.

He hasn’t yet grasped that he is really, really not at all subtle. Steve hopes he never works it out, prays quietly that Eddie remains brash and obvious for the rest of their lives. Eddie has a catalogue from somewhere, one of those cheap badly printed things you pick up at the mall. They’re everywhere this time of year, trying to pressure people into buying yet more gifts. Like stuff is the only thing that could possibly bring happiness at Christmas.

He sits close enough to Steve that they’re squished together, flipping the pages. He’s pretending to look but the way he’s holding the book, it’s more like he’s showing it to Steve.

“I like this sweater,” Eddie says, not at all nonchalantly, and then he stares at Steve. Waiting. Holding the page open to show a man and a woman in matching sweaters.

“Yeah, not really your style any more babe, but I’m sure you’d look great in it.” It does, in fact, look exactly like the kind of thing Steve would wear.

Eddie blinks, and Steve knows his plan just hit an unexpected roadblock. Steve can almost hear Eddie thinking. Then he frowns, and turns the page.

“A remote control car,” Eddie reads carefully, “comes with batteries,” he’s showing Steve again.

“I guess you’ve never had anything like that,” Steve grins sweetly, already sensing Eddie’s growing frustration. Whatever the opposite of subtle is, Eddie is it, “I could get you one for Christmas, if you like,” Steve offers, trying to play this as normal as possible, doing his absolute best to school his expression. He’s not sure he’s succeeding, but Eddie doesn’t seem to realize, so near enough.

Eddie turns a couple of pages, “snow chains?” He’s frowning at the book now, “what are snow chains?”

“For the car tires, so you don’t slip around in the snow, I’ve already got some,” Steve smiles sweetly. Eddie’s frown deepens, and he abandons his tactic, and the magazine, heading off in a huff.

Steve wakes up slowly. It’s not urgent, part of his brain telling him that it’s just Eddie that woke him. He can feel Eddie holding his hand, doing something, and Steve shifts sleepily under the covers, blinking his eyes open just as Eddie shuffles something into his pocket. Steve frowns, Eddie’s already dressed. “What you doing baby?”

Steve rubs his thumb between his fingers, rubbing away the ghost of Eddie’s touch, “nothing!” Eddie replies, way too fucking fast, and way way too enthusiastically.

“Uh hu, that isn’t suspicious at all. You’re dressed.”

“Yeah,” Eddie leans over and kisses Steve on the forehead, and when Steve presents his cheek, Eddie kisses him there too, “Chris will be here soon, we’re going Christmas shopping.”

Steve yawns, “can I tag along? I could do with getting some gifts.”

Eddie immediately looks shifty, “uhm, no.”

“I know you’re getting stuff for me baby, you keeping it secret?”

“Maybe.”

“How about I call Robs, I can do some shopping with Rob, you can do some shopping with Chrissy, and then we can swap, I need to get Rob something.”

“And I want to get Chrissy something,” Eddie smiles, seeing Steve’s plan, “you gotta get dressed.” Eddie drags the covers unceremoniously off Steve, making him groan at the loss of comfort, “I’ll call Rob, going soon.”

“Okay okay. I’m up, I’m up,” Steve groans, dragging himself out of bed as Eddie thuds down the stairs.

“Can we get lunch?” Eddie asks, leaning forward as far as he can given his seat belt. Chrissy is driving, so the girls are sitting in the front, “the food court,” he says, with the utmost reverence. Steve remembers very fondly the first time Eddie went to the mall, wandering around with Steve, mouth open, not sure where to look because there’s just so much stuff. Technically it wasn’t the first time Eddie had been to a mall, since Steve carried him through half of Starcourt when they made their escape, but Steve’s pretty sure Eddie doesn’t remember much of that. To be honest, neither does Steve since he was high on Russian drugs and beat all to hell.

The nearest mall is now near the city, so that’s where Steve took Eddie. And then he saw the food court for the first time. Eddie had made a noise Steve’s sure he’s only ever heard when they’ve been having sex.

Chrissy laughs, “of course we can.”

“Okay,” Steve checks his watch, “we meet here at twelve thirty, get lunch, then trade off, yeah?”

Robin salutes him, “aye aye captain.”

They go opposite ways, Robin immediately quizzing Steve, “so what is Eddie getting you?”

“I...actually have no idea. He’s brought his savings with him through, so,” Steve shrugs, “he’s got to buy for his secret Santa too.”

“Who did you get?”

“I am not telling you-”

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours-”

Steve shoves her, laughing.

They don’t mean to find Eddie and Chrissy, but as they walk into the store and spot them, Steve and Robin both instinctively duck down out of the way, hiding.

“Oof, I hope that isn’t for either of us,” the sweater Eddie is holding up was an almost rabid confusion of pink and yellow.

They can hear Chrissy and Eddie laughing, “oh no,” Robin sighs, “they’re going to weaponize the sweater.”

“We should go, there’s no way I’ll be able to act surprised.”

Robin breathes deeply through her nose, trying to see where they’ve gone now, “okay, I think we’re safe, pretty sure he left the sweater.”

“Doesn’t mean they won’t be back for it,” Steve grumbles.

“They’re late,” Steve checks his watch. He isn’t worried; Eddie’s with Chrissy, and it’s only the mall.

“Not that late...there they are,” Robin goes on tip toe, waving to get their attention.

“Where’s all you stuff?” Steve can’t help but notice they’re empty handed.

“In the car, hidden from prying eyes,” Chrissy tells them with a knowing look.

“It’s a secret, Stevie,” Eddie informs them solemnly, “Chrissy is keeping my gifts at hers. We can wrap them in the dark.”

Chrissy snorts a laugh, “no honey, we need to keep Steve in the dark.”

“Right right,” Eddie frowns vaguely, but clearly has other priorities, “lunch food?”

Steve collapses onto the couch, simply walking around all the stores can be exhausting, maybe because of all the thinking and planning involved. Steve managed to get a couple of records and band shirts for Eddie; things he knows he will like.

His guitar playing has been coming along too, Eddie picking that up just as fast as everything else, and Steve managed to find a book of Metallica tabs at the record store, plus a red guitar pick necklace that he’s certain will be a winner. The red plastic has the faintest of sparkles to it, and Eddie is such a magpie Steve’s sure he will like it.

“Close your eyes Stevie love!” Eddie hollers through the house.

Steve snorts a laugh, but does as he’s told, not moving a muscle otherwise, still slouched on the couch, “okay! They’re shut!”

He can hear Eddie moving around, rustling things on the coffee table, “okay, open.”

Eddie’s laid out a bunch of...stuff...on the table. Crafty looking stuff. In the middle there are two Christmas stockings, the kind you hang on the mantle. One is red and green candy cane stripe, and the other a dark blue with little glittery starts printed all over. They look extremely cheap, but no less charming for it, “what are we doing baby?”

“We’re going to make hot chocolate, I got fancy marshmallows, and we’re decorating our socks.”

“Stockings.”

“Sure. That.” Eddie has scissors and felt and a little bottle of Elmer’s glue. There are tacky plastic gems with paper backs, and sheets of little foil stickers; angels and snow men and Christmas trees and stuff. “They have to have our names on, so we can cut out letters?” Eddie holds up a little sheet of colored felt material.

“I...you know. I’m pretty sure I see your vision, this looks fun. Lets go and make the hot chocolate.”

The smile Eddie gives him is brighter than the godamn sun, and they end up making out in the kitchen, waiting for the milk to heat.

Part ThirtySeven

[slytherinzz]

Shared thoughts

Summary: After years of friendship you and Ominis still remain blissfully unaware of eachothers feelings. Thats until an unwelcome encounter get's on Ominis's wrong side. Mentions of confrontation, jealousy and his skill of Legilimency.

Pairing: Ominis Gaunt X F!reader

A/n: requests are open :)

The Great Hall was alive with its usual hum of chatter and clinking cutlery. Seventh years hurriedly swapped notes on the upcoming Charms exam, their laughter mingling with the crackling of enchanted torches. Across the Slytherin table, Sebastian Sallow watched his two closest friends with a knowing smirk, his fork abandoned on his plate.

Ominis Gaunt sat poised as always, his fingers resting lightly against the edge of the table. His head tilted slightly toward his longtime friend, MC, who was describing—animatedly and a little breathlessly—her latest escapade sneaking into the Restricted Section. Sebastian chuckled to himself as he noticed the way Ominis shifted closer to her, his usually composed expression softening ever so slightly. And then there was MC, who casually brushed her hand against Ominis' sleeve, entirely unaware of how her touch lingered.

“You two are ridiculous, you know that?” Sebastian’s voice cut through the moment.

Ominis turned his sightless gaze toward Sebastian, his lips curving into a faint frown. “I don’t know what you’re on about, Sallow.”

Sebastian raised an eyebrow, but before he could retort, a voice interrupted.

“Excuse me, MC , might I have a word?”

Leander Prewett stood a few feet away, his Gryffindor tie slightly askew and his trademark cocky grin plastered on his face. Sebastian visibly stiffened, while Ominis'fingers curled subtly around the edge of his plate.

You glanced at Ominis before reluctantly nodding. “Sure, Leander. What is it?”

Leander wasted no time. “I’ve been meaning to ask—you and I, how about we go to Hogsmeade this weekend? Just the two of us. I’ll buy you a Butterbeer. Maybe a chocolate frog if you’re lucky.”

Ominis' grip on the table tightened, his jaw clenching.

“Leander, I don’t think—” you began, but he cut you off.

“Oh, come on. I’ve seen you around. You’re clever, funny, and—well, let’s just say you’re easy on the eyes. I have been dying to feel the warmth of the Hero of Hogwarts all to myself. You would like it! What do you say?”

The discomfort rippled through you. Your stomach churned, your mind screaming, Go away. Please, just leave me alone.

Ominis shifted in his seat, sensing your unease. He had long trained himself to tune out the cacophony of thoughts that his rare gift, Legilimency, could bring. But now, feeling the weight of your silence, he focused. With a single deliberate pull, your thoughts poured into his mind.

“Why won’t he stop? This is mortifying. I don’t want him—I don’t even like him. He makes me greatly uncomfortable. Why can’t he ever take no for an answer?”

Ominis' blood boiled. The protective urge surging within him overpowered his restraint. He rose to his feet, his usually measured voice laced with ice. “Prewett, she’s not interested. Step away.”

Leander scoffed, his grin faltering. “I wasn’t talking to you, Gaunt. Maybe let her speak for herself.”

“She already has. You just don’t listen.”

Leander’s face twisted in annoyance. “And what’s it to you, anyway?”

“It’s everything to me,” Ominis snapped, stepping closer. His usually calm demeanor cracked, the frustration and protectiveness spilling out.

Leander’s arrogance flared. “Oh, I see how it is. Guess the rumors about you two are true. Well, maybe she should find someone with a little more—”

Before he could finish, Ominis; wand was in his hand, and Leander’s was out just as quickly. Spells flew, sparks illuminating the hall as students scrambled to clear a path. his calculated precision clashed against Leander’s reckless force. Leander feeling he would lose against the Gaunt boy, he decided to play dirty and and do what Ominis would never expect coming to him.

A fist collided with his face. Busting Ominis' lip.

The room gasped. he staggered back, blood trickling from his lip. But he didn’t falter. With a flick of his wand, Leander’s flew out of his hand, clattering to the floor.

“Enough!” Professor Sharp’s voice cut through the chaos. He stepped between them, his glare sharp enough to pierce steel. “Both of you—my office. Now.”

Later that evening, you dragged Ominis into the Room of Requirement, your hands gripping his arm as he dabbed at his split lip with a handkerchief.

“You didn’t have to do that, you know,” you muttered, guiding him to sit on a plush sofa conjured by the room’s magic.

Ominous tilted his head toward you. “He deserved it. You looked miserable, and he didn’t stop.”

You sighed, dabbing at his lip with a damp cloth. “Still. Now you’re hurt.”

He gave a soft chuckle, the sound rumbling low in his chest. “It’s just a scratch. I’ve had worse.”

But as your hands lingered on his face, brushing against his jaw, your thoughts betrayed you. Without meaning to, he slipped into your mind again.

“He looks so good like this. Even with the blood—no, because of it. Merlin, what’s wrong with me? I love him too much''

Ominous jerked back, his cheeks flushed. “I—I shouldn’t have done that. I didn’t mean to—”

You frowned. “What are you talking about?”

He hesitated, his voice barely a whisper. “I read your thoughts.”

Your eyes widened. “You… what?”

“I’m sorry,” he blurted. “I’ve never done it before. Not to you. But I couldn’t help it, and then—”

You stared at him, processing his words. Then, slowly, a smile tugged at your lips. “Ominis… I don’t mind. If anything, I’m glad you know.”

He froze. “You are?”

You nodded, your voice soft. “You’ve always been there for me. You’ve always protected me. And… I think I’ve loved you for it. For a long time.”

Ominis breath hitched. “You have?”

You leaned closer, your hand brushing his. “Yes. And if I’m not mistaken… you feel the same.”

He didn’t respond with words. Instead, he closed the distance, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was soft yet desperate, as if he’d been waiting years for this moment.

When you finally pulled away, his forehead rested against yours. “I’ll never read your thoughts again,” he promised. “But for what it’s worth… they were beautiful.”

Your cheeks burned, but you couldn’t help but laugh. Knowing he felt the same.

You pulled him back into another kiss, your hands tangling in his hair, and for the first time, both of you stopped thinking.

[octoberautumnbox]

Discordant Waltz: Juicy Juicy

Oh Sieun (Former IZ*ONE/Soloist Jo Yuri) & Male Reader

Categories/warnings: smut, public sex, blood, clothed sex, hair pulling, blowjob, cowgirl, friends with benefits, fuck buddy

Word count: 1.9k

| Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 (coming soon) |

a/n: i just really wanted to put this out, i think atp I can't write consistently like I used to before all this shit happened. we'll just see how it goes from now on but i swear i still have a bunch of fics i wanna write :))))

bathroom 3rd

sieun fckbd, 2:43 pm

pushy. omw

You, 2:43 pm

The warm, unconditioned air hit you like a brick wall when you first stepped out of the classroom, but with the cool breeze and shade, you really didn't mind any further.

You head for the rendezvous lazily, though it nags at you why she would want to see you during school hours. 

Sieun was leaning against the empty bulletin board between the male and female restrooms when you found her. She was ethereal and fleeting, like a poster from a magazine you weren’t supposed to buy. 

There’s no response from her as you took your careful steps towards her. She looked worried and lost in thought, like something shook her on a deeply personal level. Not that it mattered to you; neither of you were supposed to care about each other in that way.

"Can I help you?" She jumps and stares wide-eyed at you, evidently so surprised that she didn't even see you coming. Apologetically, you push up her chin and force eye contact with her, which pulls her back down to Earth.

"Great," she sighs, relieved, "you're here. Come on!" 

You suddenly find yourself getting dragged by the collar into the women's restroom and shoved into one of the stalls. You're pushed and forced to sit down onto the toilet seat, and your fuckbuddy promptly gets into her own position, straddling you and wrapping her arms around your neck.

This isn't anything new, and by now you know what she's asking for. Place both hands on her ass, feel up her cheeks through the baggy PE pants she loves wearing for some reason. She dives in and captures your lips with hers, and savoring the feeling of your tongues on each other and swapping spit. 

Carelessly you reach under her pants garters and under the waistband of her boxers, fully relishing how her smooth skin and plump ass feels in your hands. She breathes heavily under your touch, and moans spill from her lips with every squeeze. 

"Sorry about the boxers by the way," she whispers, breaking the kiss. "I didn't plan on this." 

You take her lips again, feeling her breath growing less and less stable against yours. "It's fine, baby. You okay?"

She tries to act tough with her retort, but her blushing gives her away. "Less talk, more getting your cock hard enough for me to choke on." 

You estimate a solid minute of making out and groping her ass while she grinds on your clothed dick, making sure she feels you getting harder for her.

Once she's had her fun, she gets up and hurriedly unzips your pants. Meanwhile you work on stripping her of her own pants, yanking off her boxers at the same time. Her wet, pink pussy comes into view, and you place a thumb on her clit to rub while she works hard trying to strip you herself. Noticing she's fumbling and having trouble with your belt, you unbuckle it for her and get up, so she makes quick work of pulling everything off of you. You sit back down onto the toilet and feel the cold ceramic seat on your thighs.

“Thank you. Do you have any other questions?” Sieun asks, but her interest lies elsewhere. She eyes your stiffening cock hungrily while licking her lips. 

Without waiting for an answer, she squats down between your legs and places the tip of her tongue right on the slit of your dick, giving it tiny licks. She allows her saliva to run down from her tongue, watching you watch her start to pleasure you. 

She takes your cock in her hand and starts to jerk you off in long and slow strokes. Her lips hover over your tip, still letting her saliva drip down, and you feel her handjob getting slicker. Between the feeling of her spit coating your cock and the pure visual of her heavenly face in front of you, you grip the toilet seat to try and delay your orgasm just a bit longer.

Satisfied with her work and how your face contorted in pleasure to what she’s doing, Sieun begins her monumental task of taking you into her mouth. She kisses your tip before taking your head between her plump lips. She gives it a little suck before withdrawing, licking her lips, and going back for more. You notice her free right hand working between her legs and tweaking her clit, and just then she moans a small “mmh” onto your head as she goes deeper with her blowjob to half your shaft. 

Unfortunately for her (or perhaps fortunately, you know how sick she is in the head), just half your shaft reaches to the back of her mouth. The sensation of her tongue tracing the veins around your dick sends a shock wave of pleasure up your spine, causing you to reach out and grip a handful of her hair. She looks up at you, expectant and pleading, as you watch her insert two fingers into her dripping pussy. 

Instead of forcing your cock into her throat though, you pull her head away by her hair with a jerk. She gasps at the sudden rough treatment, but displays her submission by panting with her tongue out like a dog. She hasn’t stopped fingering herself, and this lets you know what she wants next. 

Hand still tangled in her hair, you pull her up to your eye level. Take her onto your lap and position your cock onto her wet folds, and earn a groan from her as she relaxes onto you. 

Sieun reaches under her jacket and, you guess, into her bra before pulling out a condom. Seeing you surprised, she smirks at you and rips open the packaging with her teeth.

"You always know how to get me riled up."

She expertly rolls the rubber onto your throbbing cock. She holds your chin up the way you did with her earlier, and she makes you watch as she lets a line of her spit fall from her tongue to her open palm. Finally she rubs it all over your cock, giving it a few pumps while making sure it's lubricated and ready for her.

You grab her by the hips, savoring how her smooth skin feels on your hands, and pull her back onto your cock. She gives in and, carefully but not too much so, she lowers herself onto your dick. She shuts her eyes as you feel yourself sliding into her, first the head, then the shaft, and even more after that, all the while you guide her down by her hips. 

"Never fucking gets old, you stretch me out so well…" Her breathy and quiet voice tells you she's close. She bites her lip and tries to make eye contact with you again. In the split second that you do, you're reminded that Oh Sieun is gorgeous in her own right, and that you're lucky you get to have her like this at all. You admire her big brown eyes, how they shut as she lowers herself onto you, how her lips part as she lets out a deep sigh.

Sieun is dazed; you know she's getting even hornier with you. She's straining herself to keep quiet, knowing that just one mistimed yelp might be all it takes for someone to get curious, check out the bathroom, and catch the two of you red-handed. Despite that, she soldiers on, lifting herself up before letting herself drop again. As she does, you feel her velvet walls clench tighter around you, and you resolve to place your hand over her mouth. Getting the message, she goes for another bounce on your cock, more careful than anything to keep the sound of her skin on yours to a minimum. You hold back yourself, trying to match her control despite the mind-melting pleasure you get from her tight, needy pussy.

You watch as she lifts herself up again. You take a deep breath into your lungs, knowing that you can't hold back much longer: you need her just as much as she needs you. Hands firm on her mouth and hip, her head lolls back as she prepares to take all of you into her again. 

She crashes down onto you like a meteor, sending waves of pleasure throughout both your bodies. With your common sense leaving you, you thrust up into her, reaching a depth she's never experienced in this life until now. She jerks her head in surprise to face you, and almost immediately her eyes point up and then roll to the back of her head. She groans against your palm before developing into a full-blown scream you both were lucky to have muffled. Her cunt squeezes your throbbing cock as it convulses through her orgasm, squirting her cum all over your crotch and waist. 

Don't relent, she loves it when you don't. You thrust up into her again, forcing more of your cock into her heat and vying for your own release. Sieun struggles to scream louder into your hand as she loses her mind to the pleasure.

You thrust harder up into her, matching how tight she's clamping down on you. Inadvertently she makes up for it with how much of her love juice is spraying onto your crotch and lap. Snake a hand across her back and onto her shoulder, and with your other hand on her mouth, pull her down.

Her teeth find your palm an easy target, biting down and drawing blood. She could do nothing else, completely victim to the immense orgasm you were subjecting her to. Fight down your pain; just a bit more. 

It arrives when you least expect it to, and you're sure deep down inside whatever's left of Sieun is thanking whatever god she believes in that you're about to let her go. Your dick throbs with each spurt of cum you shoot into the rubber, unintentionally also hitting her good spots even more. She leaks more and more of her juices onto your lap, and as you look up you find she's also started to cry. You almost feel sorry for her, if not for how unbelievably and blissfully elated she seems to be getting fucked out of her mind. Your blood shows itself, from your palm and dripping onto Sieun's jacket. 

Both your climaxes end gradually, bringing you down from the highest of highs. Your arms fall exhaustedly to your sides and you lose all feeling in them. Sieun collapses face down on top of you, limp and out of breath, but still finds the tiniest bit of strength to nuzzle into your neck. Extend your last greatest effort, swing your arm over the small of her back and hug her. 

“You good?” Your tone is casual, like she didn't just have the orgasm of her life. She weakly nods into your neck and puts a kiss right on your pulse.

~~~

You find yourself walking back to the classroom, unaware of how much time has passed. The sun hides behind a fair bit of cloud cover, and the breeze seems nippier than you remember. 

Sieun is long gone, off to wherever she was before. Hopefully, nobody notices her limp, nor the red stain on her jacket. Above all, you hope nobody questions the hand mark over her mouth. 

But deep inside, you kind of do. She wouldn't be able to say it, but she'll know it's because she gave herself to a man that makes her feel complete.

~~~

| Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 (coming soon) |

a/n: this was something i wanted to write for a long time, im really glad i got to do something like this now :) thanks for reading!

[lightseoul]

you're losing me

synopsis. bakugou proposes to you. you give him an unexpected response.

cw. gn!reader, pro-hero!katsuki, aged up (28 yrs old), some cussing

word count. 2.5k words

“Where is everybody?”

You ask as you look around the barren restaurant, which, on most days, is jampacked with high-profile customers. How Bakugou was able to get you both a table is beyond you.

“Don’t mind ‘em,” he says before dipping down to finish the rest of his soup. “They’re just a bunch of extras anyway.”

You merely hum in response.

A moment passes with the both of you finishing your appetizers when a question dawns on you.

“By the way,” you start, “what’s the occasion, Kats?”

At that, he frowns. “What, you’re saying I can’t treat my partner whenever I feel like it?”

You snort. “I don’t mean it like that. It’s just that we don’t usually opt for extremely overpriced restaurants.”

You gesture to your evening gown and his suit. “We don’t usually dress up either.”

“Yeah, well. Just go with it, okay?”

You stare at him for a beat before deciding to let it go.

“Okay.”

You’re down to the last bite of your dessert when Bakugou clears his throat. You look up, only to be met with the familiar expression of nervousness decorating his features.

It’s how he looked at you back when he first asked you out three years ago.

“You alright?” you ask.

He nods, “Peachy. Just need to tell you something.”

Almost instantaneously, your heart picks up its pace. You brace yourself for bad news.

“What is it?”

At your query, Bakugou suddenly stands up and circles your table, stopping right in front of you.

And before you could even comprehend what’s happening, he’s already on one knee, holding a small velvet box.

“Y/N.”

At the mention of your name, your heart doubles up its pace.

He continues, but your head is pulsing and your ears throbbing so loudly that you can barely make out the speech he’s currently giving you. You feel lightheaded, as well as the tears welling up in your eyes, clouding your vision.

He sounds uncharacteristically shy when he finally says, “Will you marry me?”

That’s the last thing you hear before you black out.

You’re met with a blinding white light when you come to.

You strain to sit up in order to look around, the movement causing Bakugou, who is on a stool beside your bed, to stir awake.

“Hey,” he says gently. “Take it easy.”

Robbed of all words, you nod, taking heed and slowly lifting yourself up into a seated position.

“Where am I?” you ask.

“The nearest hospital from the restaurant,” he explains. “You fainted.”

“Seriously?”

He nods, face stern. “Thankfully I was able to catch you before your head could hit the ground. We just need to run a few more tests before you get cleared for discharge.”

And with that, the elephant in the room remains as evident as ever.

“Look, Kats,” you start, “about earlier—”

“Let’s not talk about it right now,” he cuts you off. “Come on, let’s get you ready for discharge.”

You barely catch him before he goes to work the next day.

Bakugou’s not a morning person—you found out about that a week into dating him when you noticed how curt his messages were in the mornings—yet he’s now up at 6:24 AM, darting in and out of the rooms in your shared apartment, getting ready for the day.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he’s rushing to leave.

“You’re awake,” you say lamely as you enter the living room.

He grunts in response, attention directed to the duffel bag he always brings to the office on patrol days.

You want to ask him why he’s up this early, but ultimately decide against it. Instead, you say: “Did you pack your lunch already?”

“Yeah,” he gestures to his bag, “It’s in here.”

“Okay.”

You stand awkwardly by the door as you watch him zip his bag and adjust his civilian clothes that would be swapped in for his winter costume later.

He then walks up to you and presses a kiss on your forehead—so tentatively it makes you ache.

Since when did he get so hesitant with you?

“I’ll go then,” he announces.

And before you know it, the front door shuts, his perfume leaving a nostalgic fragrance in its trail.

Only then do you realize that I love you’s were not exchanged.

The days after are unremarkably the same.

He’s been getting up extra early so that by the time you wake up, he’s already on his way to the agency.

On top of that, he’s starting to work overtime now, too.

Lately, he’s been arriving home as late as almost midnight.

You try to wait up for him—you really do—but with your own work to get to the following mornings, you just couldn’t sustain that arrangement.

And so you rarely see him.

But to your relief, despite everything that’s gone wrong with Bakugou since the night he proposed, you still fall on the same bed at the end of the day.

Albeit his back is turned against you. Still, you’re grateful. There’s a certain comfort that blankets you whenever you’re near Bakugou, and that hasn’t changed one bit.

Not wanting to make him uncomfortable, you mirror him, your back now facing his.

Which is why you don’t notice it until you hear a gasp.

Propping yourself up on your elbow, you look at Bakugou, who’s now sitting upright, chest heaving.

Quickly, you rouse yourself, facing him. “What’s wrong?”

He inhales deeply as his eyes dart towards you, beads of sweat now decorating his forehead.

“Nightmare,” he croaks.

At that, you grab his ice-cold hands, squeezing them in yours. “Do you want to talk about it?”

A beat passes before he reluctantly shakes his head. “It’s just the usual.”

The usual. Being held hostage by that monster, getting kidnapped, being responsible for All Might’s—

“It doesn’t matter if it’s new or not,” you retort, squeezing his hands again in an attempt to anchor him to reality. “I’m here to listen, alright?”

Bakugou hesitates for a second before nodding, a pained expression written across his face.

He starts to lean in closer, probably to drop his head at the crook of your neck like he usually does when plagued with nightmares, before hesitating and leaning back.

“Okay.”

The next morning, you wake up not only to an empty bed, but an empty house.

Still half asleep, you trudge your way toward the kitchen, where a bento box is sitting on the island. On top of it is a sticky note that reads:

Going out w the guys after shift. Don’t wait up.

Your heart sinks at the thought of not being able to see Bakugou for the day.

Still, maybe he needs this night out.

You wouldn’t want to spend time with the person who rejected you either.

With a heavy heart, you get ready for the day yourself.

Work is the least of your concerns this morning, but you figure you have to go. You could use some distraction to take your mind off your crumbling relationship.

You’re in your bed reading that non-fiction you’ve been putting off for a while now when your phone rings.

You reach for your phone, eyebrows furrowing at the sight of Kirishima’s caller ID.

Huh.

You press the green button after a few seconds of letting it ring. “Hello?”

“Hey, Y/N!” a cheery voice greets you. “This is Kirishima.”

“Hey, Ei,” you start, weirdly nervous. “How are you and the rest of the squad?”

“Actually, that’s why I called you. Can you pick Bakugou up? He’s so drunk.”

Your Katsuki? Drunk?

For some reason, the idea of talking to a drunk Bakugou, who also happens to be the bluntest version of himself, elicits an unpleasant feeling in your gut.

“Really?” you ask, voice small. “How much did he drink?”

“Not a lot, but the alcohol percentage of the ones he downed are pretty high.”

When you don’t respond for a while, he pipes up with: “Y/N?”

“Yeah, I’m here.”

Kirishima sounds unsure when he asks, “Is everything okay with you guys?”

“Yes, Ei.” No, Ei. I inadvertently rejected his marriage proposal.

“Okay, that’s good to hear,” he starts. “It’s just that he barely mentioned you when he was still sober—which is a rare occurrence, if you only knew. He only started calling for you when he was three glasses in.”

Despite yourself, your stomach flips in delight. He’s still thinking about me, you think to yourself.

“Anyway, as I was saying, are you good to fetch him?”

“Yes,” you stand up and grab for your keys. “I’ll be there in fifteen.”

You’re situating the car in your designated parking space when Bakugou finally stirs awake.

Once you’re parked, you turn off the engine before you reach over the console to unfasten his seatbelt. Yours follows shortly after.

You look at him, whose eyes are still closed.

“We’re here, Kats.”

At the sound of your voice, his eyes shoot open and he examines his environment, alarmed. Once he catches sight of you, though, he visibly relaxes.

Only to straighten up in his seat, stiff and unable to look you in the eye.

“You didn’t have to, uh,” he stammers, struggling to formulate coherent sentences. “Get me. You didn’t have to get me.”

You shoot him a small smile. “It’s okay. I don’t mind.”

He doesn’t say anything after that, eyes trained on your car’s windshield.

A moment passes before he speaks again.

“My mom made me do it, you know.”

You stare at his side profile. “Made you do what?”

“Propose to you.”

“Oh.”

He shakes his head, almost in disagreement. “The old hag really wants me to get married. I told her we didn’t have to get married because we’re happy the way things are and that shit is just for formality. Told me I’d be missing out on you wearing a wedding dress.”

You snort, “That’s what convinced you to ask me?”

He grins. “Nah. I just realized I wanted to get married if it was to you.”

Before you can even react, Bakugou shifts in his seat, breaking eye contact.

“It was stupid of me, though.”

Your stomach drops in anticipatory dread. “Stupid of you to what?”

He chuckles, although he seems anything but happy. “Was stupid of me to think someone like you would say yes to someone like me.

“I—” he stutters, “I wouldn’t marry me either.”

Your eyebrows furrow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He sighs, “Just…who the fuck do I think am, proposing to you? I was a horrible person who fucked things up so many times growing up. Maybe this is karma biting me back in the ass.”

“Katsuki.”

“You can do way be—”

“Katsuki!”

He jerks his head to face you, bewildered and eyes glassy.

You reach over the console to hold his scarred hand, staring him down.

“Look at me.”

He does so.

“You’re not that person anymore, alright?” You squeeze his hand, “Please don’t do this to yourself.”

Under the intensity of your gaze, Bakugou can only nod in affirmation before you engulf him in your first hug in what feels like weeks.

“Come on,” you say when you finally part, “Let’s get you ready for bed.”

Bakugou sleeps like a baby by your side that night. Meanwhile, you stay up until the wee hours of the morning, tossing and turning, unable to fall asleep.

He thinks you don’t want to marry him.

Your heart aches at the very thought of him grappling with the most false of all statements.

You want to marry him, you really do, but all your fears suddenly rose to the surface and enveloped you the second he went on one knee.

And that’s what you’re planning to confess to him tonight.

You wait, wrapped in the thickest jacket you own, seated on the bench for Bakugou to come. You left him a note alongside his bento box earlier this morning—a note that says to meet you at the indicated address.

Lost in your thoughts and in your internal monologue, you startle when somebody sits next to you.

You look to your right, only to see Bakugou in his thickest jacket, a gray beanie covering his ash blonde locks, cheeks pink from the cold.

“Do you remember this place?” you ask, voice quiet.

He scoffs, “Of course I do, dumbass.”

At that, you chuckle. “This is where we had our first date.”

He grunts in agreement. He doesn’t say anything after that.

A few seconds pass before he finally pipes up with: “So why did you bring me here?”

Your heart’s pace quickens at the query.

You gulp, although your voice still ends up shaky. “I wanted to apologize.”

“You have nothing to apologize for.”

You shake your head, “You don’t understand.”

He chuckles, that same one that translates to anything but happiness. “I think I do. You don’t want to marry me, I get it.”

“No,” you say, voice louder. “I want to marry you.”

At your admission, Bakugou turns to look you in the eye. The hopeful expression on his face is staggering, you want to curl up into a ball and cry. “What?”

“I said,” you repeat, “I want to marry you.”

His eyebrows furrow. “Then why have you been acting like you don’t?”

At his question, you can’t help but clench your eyes closed. This is too much, you think to yourself, but you owe Bakugou the truth.

“I’m just scared, Kats. Truly. I—” you stammer, “I just can’t shake off the fear of losing you one day. And I know your capabilities and I know how hard you work. Just that—I don’t know. The fear of seeing you killed one day is paralyzing.”

Bakugou reaches out to you, and you let him wipe away the tears that are now falling down your cheeks.

“I’m scared, too,” he offers. “But I don’t know.”

He shakes his head, “I’m more scared of not being with you.”

At his confession, you can’t help but smile. “I think that’s how I feel, too.”

You rest your head on Bakugou’s shoulder, your hand in his. You stay like that for a few minutes before you pull away and turn to regard him again.

“Can we start over?” you ask, “I want to propose to you soon.”

Bakugou smirks, nothing but elation on his face. He takes your other hand and squeezes it.

“Not if I propose to you first.”

tagging. @katsukis1wife @rinalou @loverboyrin @brunnetteiwik @beabe19

as always, reblogs, comments, and tags are appreciated <3

[incendiobrock]

Driving Lessons {Chris Sturniolo}

Request: Linked here!

Prompt(s): A teaching B to do something and B totally fails + "Hey, hey, don't cry"

Warnings: slight language (only like one word tbh), nothing but fluff!!!

You and Chris had been dating for almost a year. More often than not you were the designated driver, especially when Matt wasn't available to drive, since Chris had never gotten his license. Chris would always check with you to make sure you didn't mind driving him around, either offering to take an Uber or just waiting until Matt was free.

"If you don't feel like it please just tell me. I really don't mind waiting for Matt..." Chris spoke softly, feeling bad that he had woken you up early this morning to ask to drive him to the doctors office for an appointment.

"Baby, it's no problem! If you wait on Matt you're going to be late. Let me get dressed and then we can go, okay?" You reassured him, knowing that this wasn't the first instance he had felt guilty for asking you to drive him somewhere.

Eventually, Chris' guilt was getting the best of him. He needed to learn how to drive, even if it scared him, because you deserved to be driven around too. So, one night as you were laying on the couch together, basking in each others company, he had asked if you would be able to help him practice his driving. You happily agreed, offering the use of your car in case Matt and Nick needed to use the van.

It was late by the time you had pulled into the empty Target parking lot, thinking it would be the best place for Chris to practice driving. Chris swapped seats with you positioning himself behind the wheel of your car. You watched longingly as he readjusted the seat and the mirrors to his height, his tongue slightly poking out over his bottom lip in concentration. "Okay, I think they are good." He said, letting out a nervous sigh.

"Okay babe, we can do this at your pace don't stress too much. I know you'll do great!" You said, rubbing his left arm as he took a hold of the steering wheel, placing his hands ten and two. "Alright, I'm just going to drive around in a big circle?" He asked, staring straight ahead at the empty lot. You nodded in response, removing your hand from his upper arm so he could focus.

His hand found the gear shift, putting it into drive and gently pressing his foot down on the accelerator. As he made his way through the parking lot you couldn't help but look up and notice the stars decorating the night sky. Since you were normally the one driving you couldn't pay attention to the little things that made a night drive so enjoyable; like the stars and moon, or the way the cool night air felt if you cracked the windows. Chris successfully made a loop around the parking lot, beaming with joy at his accomplishment.

His nerves left his body as he continued to make his way around, beginning to zig zag down the rows. He began to get a hang of how the car moved when he would turn the wheel, or how much he needed to step on the gas in order to go an acceptable speed. Chris felt himself relax more and more as his fear of driving began to dissipate.

"Do you want to try something else?" You asked him, admiring how good he looked in the drivers seat of your car.

"What do you have in mind?"

"You could try reversing the car, maybe practicing how to back into a parking spot?" You suggested, reminding him that nobody else was around and that this was just to get him more comfortable behind the wheel.

"Okay, now cut the wheel to the left a little bit more," You instructed, trying to help Chris reverse into a space. His hands glided across the wheel, veering it to the left as he peaked out the rearview mirror. The car jolted forward slightly as Chris slammed onto the breaks. "Oh my god, what was that?" He asked, panic rising in his voice.

He immediately put the car in park as you unbuckled your seatbelt and made your way out of the car, Chris following your actions. You made your way to the back of the car and noticed a Target cart that must've been left out of the cart corral. "Fuck, baby... I'm so sorry. I-I swear I didn't see that behind us." Chris began to apologize, a lump forming in his throat as he noticed the small dent that was in your bumper from the impact. "Oh Chris, it wasn't your fault. The cart was probably just in your blindspot." You replied, unaware of his distressed state. You pulled the cart to the side, moving it out of the way of your car.

Chris stood there silently, feeling horrible about denting your car after you trusted him to drive it. Any ounce of confidence he had gained going around the parking lot earlier was now non existent. Tears filled his eyes as his bottom lip quivered. "Hey, hey, don't cry Chris..." You said, finally registering that he was upset. Quickly, you made your way over to him and pulled him into your arms. His arms snaked around your waist as you cradled his head into your shoulder, smoothing over his hair with your hand. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to dent your car..." His voice trembled as some stray tears hit your shoulder.

"Baby, I know you didn't mean to, please don't cry. I promise you it's okay." You soothed, wishing he wasn't being so hard on himself. When you had first started driving you couldn't even drive above 20mph, he was already doing way better than you and it was only his second time behind the wheel. He pulled away from the hug, keeping his hands on your waist as he looked into your eyes. You gently wiped some tears out from under his eyes, feeling your heart break at the sight of your defeated boyfriend.

After Chris had calmed down you both made your way back into the car. He took his spot back in the passenger seat as you reclaimed the drivers side. Without saying anything, Chris leaned over the center console, capturing your lips in a sweet but firm kiss. You knew it was his way of saying 'thank you', not only for the driving lessons but also for not freaking out about his little accident.

"I love you." You said looking into his eyes as he kept his lips a few inches from yours.

"I love you more." He countered, appreciating how he got so lucky with you. He was ecstatic about the fact that you were his, and nobody else's.

"Alright, let's go to the gas station. I need to get you a celebratory pepsi for facing your fears and practicing your driving!" You said, trying to lighten the mood.

"And some candy?" He asked, jokingly pouting his lips at you.

"And some candy." You giggled, making your way to the nearest store.

[kaciebello]

Wrong address

Masterlist Delivery Express ✿ Summary: The reader sees an opportunity to run an untapped market in Hogwarts.  She just wishes people would put the proper address on it. Warnings: mention cigarettes, no use of y/n Authors note: English is not my first language, so I apologize for any mistakes beforehand. I want to spread this into a one-shot series. Proofread by me and me only (Ｔ▽Ｔ) • Previously: Left on delivered • Next part: Too many voicemails word count: 1.1k

notes to deliver: 365

It wasn't hard to find the Slytherin boys, usually you could hear them from miles away. That is why sometimes when they want to keep their business private, they sneak into the room of requirements. Not only was it soundproof, but no one just stumbled upon it. Most importantly nobody knows they hang out there. Or so the thought.

The giant door slides open revealing a makeshift sunroom. Nobody should have been able to find them there, yet they are not surprised when they see a certain Hufflepuff girl with a yellow bow in her hair. She was fondling a note in her hand looking at it confused. She steps into the room as a door closes behind her, making her way to the number of sofas in the room. The room senses her presence, makes sure there is room for her, and even goes as far as giving her a cup of tea.

“ What you got there mail girl?” asks Draco before closing his eyes and soaking up the artificial sun. Maybe he won't get sunburned from this one. 

“ Note for one of you…” all attention was on her now. Curiosity reeks from the boys. They are not strangers to being delivered notes or letters from the girl. If anything, it became like a norm at this point. Not that they ever respond to any.

“Well dont keep us on the edge of our seats. For who?” Says Mattheo eager to open it and read it.

“That's the point. I don't know.” She says and sighs. Promptly burying her head in her hands. Eager glances are swapped for confused ones.

Various versions of ‘Why do you mean you don't know.’ leave the boys. She just looks at the note before speaking.

“ I usually have people write to who on the folded note. and you know, that system works! Sure, some people mix Fred and George but who wouldn't.” She pauses, thumbs of agreement. She fips the note. “ This one is addressed to ‘ the cute guy from Slytherin’.”

“Oh sunshine, isn't it obvious? Give me the note.” Theodor says reaching for it. Blasie stops him with a disgusted look. She knew this would happen.

“Like hell it's you, if anyone here is cute it’s me!” says Draco no longer behaving like a cat in a sun but one that is about to pull out its claws. One by one the boys got increasingly offended if they were not suggested by the others. The girl places the note in her lap and reaches for her tea. It was amusing to see her fight for the title of the cute boy in Slytherin. And some people say they are dangerous.  Tooning them out, she looks around the room to admire it. 

“Sunshine.” Says Lorenzo making her turn back to them and pay attention. 

“ Give us the note.” He says, his eyes were a tad bit crazy. She shakes her head and places the cup on a table. Sometimes her friends scared her, not for the reason many people thought. Looking closely at all of them. They all had the same look in their eyes. 

She gets up and swiftly moves to stand behind a sofa, making sure there is some barrier between her and them.

“Sunshine, give us the note,” he repeats extending his hand to her. She just takes a B-line to the door. A crashing sound behind her made her clutch to the note in her hand. A few steps before the door Mattheo appears and blocks her way. She knew better than to start backing up so she turned and made her way to the glass door that seemed to be leading outside. She however could never outrun 5 boys in their prime, no.

A decision was made right then and there. When she can feel Draco catching up to her, she ducks—Draco completely misses her and runs into the glass door. She however was already running to the fireplace. She was a few steps from it when Lorenzo jumped out of nowhere and tackled her on the floor. Making sure to turn them around so he sounded her fall. The note slips from her grip. The two groan on impact.

“Bro that was unnecessary.” She whines and rolls at her friend. Sitting her to him while he lies on the floor with a smile.

“Yeah, but I got the note…” He says and looks in the direction the note has fallen. His smile drops when he sees it. The note has landed in the fire just as the girl intended to. The sides curled and ashy, there was no saving it. A victorious cheer leaves the girl, while others groan in frustration.

Looking around the scene, some pillows were thrown on the ground. One chair was flipped over and was lying on its side. Draco was holding his nose as Blasie helped him up. Something told the girl his father won't be hearing about this one. Overall it looked like someone casted Bombarda in the middle of the room.

Turning to the friend next to her, making sure he's okay. He just waves his arm at her and jumps up. Before helping her up. In the meanwhile, the rest have sat down in their previous spots. Mattheo flicked his wand to clean the room up a bit. 

Silence sat among the friends. A new batch of tea was made, and they all tried to figure out what just happened. The only sound in the room was the fire cracking, the remains of the note still visible. It's Blaise who breaks the silence.

“Um, that was…” He swallows the rest of his thought, opting to just nod his head.

“Man, we should have read it together, just aloud.” Says Theodor, pulling out his cigarette and offering it to anyone willing to take one. Nods and hums of agreement were heard from the boys.

“You know, the girl that gave it to me was very cryptic.” She says sipping on her tea and swapping the smoke away occasionally. Their ears perked up but they were still licking their wounds to pay proper attention.

“ She said, and I quote. ‘ You know who’ and winked before running away.” She pauses to take a sip before continuing. “ I think she wanted me to give it to the one I thought was the cutest” Lost in her thoughts, her gaze remained on ashes. She did not even notice that the chatter stopped.

Silence from the boys. Until.

“Well, who do think it's the cutest?” She just sighs at the question. Here we go again.

notes to deliver: 364

Tag list: @daisiesformylove, @klimovatereza-blog , @lafrone , @enfppixie , @rafegfs , @frogtape , @lovelyygirl8

[prettiestofpisces]

Breanna Stewart x Reader

nsfw 18+

💋: angst, car quickie, college stewie

⋆ ★ let me know if this is absolutely garbage and what to fix, you won’t hurt my feelings…muah

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

you knew what breanna wanted when she asked if you were up.

“i want to come see you.”

you stared at the message contemplating if you wanted to get hurt yet again.

fooling around with thee breanna stewart, uconns mvp, was not for the weak. especially when she was up to no good. she wanted you for one thing and one thing only.

you two had met through mutual friends and as you attended her games your eyes lingered on breanna more than you’d like to admit. afterwards when all your friends would gather breanna couldn’t help but surround herself by you, asking where you were. becoming closer and closer you no longer needed a group of friends as an excuse to find your way back to one another. you two could enjoy each others company alone and conversate about life outside of basketball and aspirations while never getting tired.

spending sacred time together also meant there were hidden glances and touches that lingered that therefore only progressed.

after games there were no more nights out on the town but rather nights in with just the two of you that held no more innocent touches but instead the most ravishing sex you’d ever had.

after a hard loss breanna would be in distress and fuck you like there was no tomorrow. her pent up frustrations released into the rough kisses she gave you and forceful fingers rammed into your cunt.

however when they won, which was quite often, she’d treat you like a princess. holding your face in her hands pecking your lips and running her fingers through your hair.

nights like these you couldn’t help but to think you were in love. and sooner or later you’d be able to call breanna yours.

but those were not her intentions as breanna claimed this was just “for fun.” occupying her time and yours.

you should’ve known, you should’ve known she never had love for you once she orgasmed and rushed to put her clothes back on, never looking back.

but sex and to feel good clouded your judgment so now you’re here in the passenger seat of a 2005 toyota 4runner with the curly brunette in the drivers seat.

“why couldn’t i have come up again?” she questioned.

“because my roommate is sleeping B” you sigh and roll your eyes.

you lie between your teeth when in reality she begged you not to go downstairs. but you were consistent in telling your roommate you were only going to “talk” some things over, and to not worry.

as the stars twinkle breanna simply hums and scans your body, taking in the tight shirt which exposed your hardened nipples and short shorts that revealed your plush thighs.

“you look good” she mumbles.

“thank you B” you say flustered and unable to make eye contact. you look at the clock on the radio that illuminates the time, 12:37.

“look it’s late stewie and i’ve-“ she cuts you off to then grab your face, bring it close and whisper “so we need to be quick.” not able to resist, your breath halters and lips depart, you nod in agreeance and your facade faded.

breanna waste no time in securing your mouths together and playing with your bottom lip.

you whine, unsure of where to put your hands in which they result on her shoulders. sticking your tongue in her mouth they swirl together.

swapping spit was not in your night time regimen, but, you couldn’t resist all 6 foot and 4 inches of breanna. after some minutes of making out stewie grabs hold of your waist hoisting you up and over the middle console onto her lap. as you both release from the kiss a pop could be heard and you get settled in your new positions. breanna she pushes the seat down and back creating more room.

panting, you grind your clothed pussy on hers and slowly take off your top. breanna however quickly attaches one hand on to your tit and her lips on your neck. she sucked and scratched until after leaving a dark mark on your collarbone, satisfied. Leaning back into the seat she takes her shirt own off leaving just the black nike sports bra you knew all too well. in comparison she watched you struggle to manipulate yourself to take your shorts and panties off, a smile washing over her face.

you look at her with an annoyed expression and set yourself back on her lap, clit now exposed.

you look at each other in content.

“sit on my face” her grin widens

“hmm?”

“i said, ride my face, hard”

a puzzled expression takes over, and your nerves chewed you up.

in attempt to put your concerns at ease, stewie takes hold of you waist once again and forces you to move up over her chest.

seeing how bad she wants this you readjust some more and settle down to feel the immediate wetness of her tongue on your lips. hands still on your waist they move your hips back and forth and in circles along breannas lips, tongue and nose.

your hand makes it way to the window leaving a condensated print.

“B you make me feel so good” you moan and move harder, squeezing your eyes shut.

she chuckles and the vibrations tighten the knot in your stomach.

“o-oh my god”

“suck my clit harder please”

“mm fuck-“

dirty words expelled from you uncontrollably while stewie took one hand away from your torso to slap and grab your ass.

you yelp and just like that your orgasm was approaching.

everything on breanna is long, her arms, legs and especially her tongue. she stuck the muscle right in your pussy and with a few more pumps, in and out your orgasm hit you like a brick wall.

sliding off her face and back on breannas hips you cup your cunt as all the feelings became too much.

“you’re shaking” stewie says with a laugh.

“no shit B”

“we can really do this more often”

as stewie kisses you gently, reality then hits. more often meaning, late night calls and quickies.

your eyes taking in all her features glistening with your slick made you contemplate whether you’re able to really say goodbye and let her go.

“um- no B i don’t think we can…”

it’s breannas turn to then look puzzled.

her large palms move from your waist to the small of your back and rub the area in undetectable patterns.

“i-i don’t want to continue this.”

in search for your clothes you return back to the passenger seat.

“what?” she says plainly.

you slip your shirt and shorts on “i’m tired of doing this with you, pretending like i don’t want something more!”

breanna whips her head at you, eyebrows raised

“it pains me we’re so intimate but i can’t say you’re mine” you clutch your chest ready for whatever dismissive excuse she was about to give you. but instead she rubs her face and closes her eyes “okay.”

“okay?! breanna are you fucking serious?”

you’re hurt.

you never called her breanna, only “B” and on rare occasions “stewie.”

She blinks in disbelief “i truly don’t know what to say but i think it’ll all hurt your feelings.” she combs her fingers through her messy curls and you watch as the digits flex.

the words coming out her mouth sounded so good in her northern accent but their meaning sending you in shock.

you nod with wide eyes unsure of how the only person you had been so vulnerable with couldn’t give you the time nor day.

you simply get out of the suv holding back tears. on route back to your apartment, stewie watches your hips sway and you turn around to spit

“fuck you.”

you hear the engine to her car start.

she wasn’t going to call for you? yell out and tell you to come back?

no.

but she does wait until you’re in said apartment to speed away. leaving you to climb back in bed sobbing silently.

although the next morning you wake to a text reading

“i’m sorry.”