#i have tried going to the gym before and could never keep it up
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better off
simon ghost riley x reader
synopsis: simon and soap discuss their plan to keep reader safe from their enemies.
Link to master list:https://www.tumblr.com/ponyosmom35/733401347573088256/simon-ghost-riley?source=share
Soap set down the phone and looked at Simon, his expression a mix of exasperation and sadness. "Happy now?" he asked, his tone sharp but edged with concern.
Simon didn't respond immediately. He stood still, his face as unreadable as ever. His fingers flexed at his sides as if trying to find something to hold on to. After a moment, he let out a slow, deliberate breath and looked up.
"Yeah," Simon said, his voice flat. "I'm ecstatic."
Soap shook his head, pacing the room. "I don't understand why you can't just go home, get her out of there, and put her somewhere safe while we finish this."
Simon's jaw tightened, his eyes darting to the floor as if it held all the answers. "It's not that simple, Soap. If they catch even a whisper of me going near her, they'll know. And if they know, she's dead." His voice was strained, as though each word was a weight he could barely carry. "Right now, the safest thing for her is to think I'm gone."
Soap stopped pacing, turning to face him. "So what's your plan, then? Once she gets here, we just pick her up and take her to the safehouse? She's gonna freak out, Simon. And when she finds out you're alive, she's gonna bloody kill all of us. She'll never forgive you."
Simon's shoulders sagged slightly, the faintest crack in his stoic demeanor. "I know," he said, his voice quiet. "I know." He exhaled sharply, straightening his posture as if to shake off the weight of his admission. "But what choice do we have, Johnny? It's her life or mine. And I'll be damned if I let her die because of me."
Soap crossed his arms, his brow furrowed. "So, you think sending her on a 'vacation' is safer? Mate, this is fifty shades of fucked up."
Simon's eyes narrowed, his tone cutting. "Watch it, mate. I know it's not a perfect plan. But it's the best I've got right now. As long as she's in the dark and keeps moving, she's safe."
"And if Makarov gets wind she's in the country?" Soap's voice dropped, the gravity of the situation pressing between them.
Simon's voice dropped even lower, cold and dangerous. "If Makarov spots her, I'll bring her in myself. And I'll rip apart every bastard in his crew before I let him touch her."
The finality in Simon's tone ended the conversation. Without another word, he walked to his room, the door closing behind him with a resounding thud. He leaned against the wall, his head hanging low. The weight of it allâher absence, her safety, the lie he was forcing her to liveâcrushed him.
He clenched his fists, the guilt and desperation bubbling to the surface. With a sharp exhale, he slammed his fist into the wall, the pain radiating through his knuckles barely a fraction of what he felt inside. He stood there, breathing heavily, trying to push it all back down.
He missed her more than he thought possible. Every second apart felt like a fresh wound, a new reminder of what he'd given up to keep her alive.
Later that night, sleep found him, but it offered no relief. His dreams turned into a nightmareâher, standing in front of him, her eyes wide with fear. Makarov's men surrounded her, guns raised. Simon tried to move, to grab her, but he was frozen, powerless as the worst unfolded before his eyes. The gunshot rang out, and her body crumpled to the ground.
He woke with a start, gasping for air, his chest heaving as sweat soaked through his shirt. He pressed his hands to his face, the image of her lifeless body burned into his mind.
The rest of the night passed in restless silence. By dawn, Simon was in the gym, punishing his body in a futile attempt to quiet his mind. When his muscles screamed for mercy, he retreated to his office, staring at the live feed from the security camera outside her house.
The sight of her home brought him no comfort. He told himself it was to ensure she was safe, but deep down, he knew it was because he couldn't go a day without feeling connected to her.
As he watched the screen, he whispered to himself, his voice barely audible over the hum of the equipment. "I'll fix this. I'll make it right. And then⌠I'll stay out of her life for good."
But even as he said the words, the thought of never seeing her again felt like the cruelest punishment of all.
#smut#angst#ghost mw2#ghost x reader#simon ghost x reader#ghost#simon ghost riley#ghost cod#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley smut#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley fanfiction#price#soap cod#cod mw2#cod#cod x reader#cod mwii#call of duty#call of duty modern warfare#john soap mactavish
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Maybe I should go to the gym. I bet that's where the Karlachs hang out. o.o;
#bjk talks#i'm a little tipsy don't worry about it#i have tried going to the gym before and could never keep it up#but hm#lol#the trouble is (as one of my stream viewers said a while back) all the hot nice people live outside my house#challenging
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Can you please write an Aaron Pierre smut fic or love story? đđ˝
A/N: Ya'll don't get me started on this man. Just don't. I'm obsessed.
Wild
Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader
Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. SMUT. PWP, cursing, PIV, fingering (female receiving) teasing, size kink, dirty talk, degradation kink if you squint, rough sex, all consensual. Sorry if I missed some, I'm rushing, just let me know.
Summary: You went on a small camping trip with Terry, who graciously helped to introduce you to hiking. After a critter destroys your tent, you stupidly volunteer to share his. Shouldnât be too bad, right?
Word Count: 5,859k
AO3 Link
A/N: THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A DRABBLE. Don't ask for him no more! (kidding, kinda) I will never be normal about him. It just kept going. My shoulder has been on fire for the past two weeks so I'm taking a much needed break. Toss a coin to your blogger by leaving a comment, gif, or unhinged ask.
You stepped carefully along the ground. You made sure not a twig nor rock slipped beneath your shoes as you picked your way through the thicket of trees. Terry gave you a head start, closing his eyes and turning around with a smug look on his face.
Youâll show him though. There was no way he could track you this time. The ground was dry, you didnât step on anything, and you worked with intention. The goal was to get to the river before he could catch up to you.
So far, it had to have been at least fifteen minutes since he started counting. That was a good enough lead, right?Â
You were distracted. But something had to keep your mind off of your pursuer. You and Terry had formed an easy friendship, seeing each other around the gym. When he mentioned hiking was a hobby of his, you mentioned that you wanted to get into it but wasnât sure where to start.
You should have kept your mouth shut. Spending nearly every week up close and personal with him was a new level of personal hell. He was so damn pretty. You didnât often call men pretty, becauseâŚwellâŚbut he was!
The most striking eyes ever rimmed in dark eyelashes as if he were wearing eyeliner. Wide nose and even wider lips. An adorable, incredible smile. You stepped behind a tree and paused for a moment, bending over to grab your knees.Â
Fuck you were out of shape. And trying to keep up with Terryâs tall ass was a struggle. Beyond a struggle. For every step he took, you had to scurry behind. And he didnât believe in breaks. Fuckinâ ex military.Â
You breathed through your nose though that only made breathing difficult. Didnât help that you were horny as hell either. You leaned up and pressed your back against the bark of the tree, hoping no critters tried to ride home with you.
You took off your hat and wiped your brow, looking at your surroundings. The woods itself had thick trees, fluffy leaves, and branches that stretched high in the sky. Dots of sunlight slanted, giving you a peek at the bright blue sky. Terry would call it quits soon. You pouted. This was the second mini camping trip youâd been on with him and you hadnât been able to escape him.
You replaced your hat on your head and risked a glance behind you. No sign of Terry. Good. You grinned and took off again, picking carefully through the woods. The water was close. You could hear the current from where you were.Â
Almost there, oop around that rock, and ahhh, almost stepped on a rock. Ha. In his gorgeous face.Â
You almost laughed but it would give away your position. You pressed your hand to the nearest tree as you swung around it just as strong arms pushed you into the tree.
You screamed as Terry moved in behind you, pressing his chest against your back. âFound you,â he said. His voice was low and deep, emerging from somewhere deep in his wide chest.
You groaned and slapped the tree. âHow the hell did you find me?â You asked.
Terry chuckled and stepped away from you. You missed the heat of his body already. You schooled your features and turned around with a smirk on your face. You folded your arms across your chest so he couldnât see how hard you were gasping for air. For more than one reason.
âYouâre loud as hell,â he said.Â
âWas not! I was being quiet! I made sure I was!âÂ
Terry looped his fingers through his hiking backpack and tilted his head at you. âIâve been following you for ten minutes,â he said.
You looked away, back the way you came. Shit. What did he hear? What did he see? You may or may not talk to yourself to get yourself through shit. You ran through the past ten minutes, trying to think of what you said or did or if you drew any attention to the horrible crush you had on him.
He had to know his appeal. But you didnât want to make him feel uncomfortable. You werenât only friends with him because he was hot. That was loser shit. You genuinely valued his opinions, his outlook. You loved that he had a way of making everyone at ease with just a few quiet words or a playful look.Â
But that goddamn body. You looked back towards his face, because if you looked at his shirt, dripping with sweat, youâd combust on the spot. Terry smirked as if he could read your thoughts and pointed the way you came.
âYou have to be aware of your surroundings if you do find yourself in a situation like this. Itâs not about being quiet. Itâs about moving fast, moving smart, and trust nothing,â he said.
You put your hands on your hips and pouted. âOne of these days youâre not gonna be able to catch me,â you said.
He chuckled. âIâd still catch you,â he said. He smirked and turned around, heading into the woods, away from the water.Â
Youâd just have to train when he wasnât around being a distraction. You sighed, trying to not let the sting of failure drag you into the dumps. You walked behind him, your consolation prize being his nice, gorgeous ass.Â
He wore camo pants and a gray t-shirt, hiking boots, and tall thick socks. The pants really showed off his assets. You bit your lip imagining what itâd be like pressed up against all that piece of man.Â
âKeep up!â He barked out. You huffed and whined, jogging to catch up to him.
âYou do know youâre like, eight feet tall right?â You asked.
He looked at you out of the corner of his eye, giving him an animalistic side eye. His eyes were lethal. Your breathing stuttered and you hoped he didnât hear it because god. âAnd you must be part lion? Part tiger? Yo ass ainât natural,â you said, hoping to diffuse whatever spell he managed to weave whenever he trained those eyes on you.Â
Terry chuckled. âYou trynna say Iâm not human?âÂ
You didnât answer right away, only because you were trying not to huff and puff as you talked. You needed your inhaler, but you also left it in your tent. Yes, yes, you knew it was a dumb move. But hell, there was nothing more embarrassing than having to stand there and use it.
âI meanâŚâ you said, letting the sentence dangle.
Terry gave you that side eye again, his mouth twisted in a frown. You gave him an innocent smile back, batting your eyes all innocent-like. Terry only shook his head, the corners of his mouth drifting down as he tried to hide a smile.Â
You walked together in silence, grateful if only because your lungs were burning. When you decided to go on this journey of getting in shape and getting your mind right, you never thought youâd be in the woods. Let alone with someone like Terry.Â
He was competent, knowing so much about living off the grid and being prepared. He carried all kinds of tools with him. You had a thirst for knowledge, asking him a million questions. He answered every single one too. If you could clone him and pass him out like candy to your friends, you would. There needed to be more men like him.Â
A trail of ripped paper littered the ground like patches of snow in the middle of fall. âNo,â you gasped.
You sped up as Terryâs hands shot out to stop you, but you pushed past him, running towards your campground. Your tent was on the far left, torn to pieces and ripped apart. Your journal had been shredded, ripped apart by some kind of animal. Your clothes were thrown about.
You were only out here for a day and night, getting a tiny taste of camping thanks to Terry. Youâd never been. Growing up an inner city kid, Black parents didnât play that shit. The school yard was your jungle. You were threatened with going to stay out in the woods if you didnât like living under their roof. It wasnât a regular occurrence for you or your friends growing up.Â
The small fire pit had been picked over as well. You made a wailing sound as you tried to gather up the ripped pieces of paper. All those memories gone. All those feelings torn up. Some pieces flew with the breeze and you took off your own backpack, trying hard not to cry.
âYou canât run ahead like that. What if it was dangerous?â Terry scolded you. His voice got deeper, eyes narrow. He bent down to help you pick up the pieces of paper.
âPlease, donât! I got it,â you said. Perhaps a bit harsher than necessary. You werenât going to cry. It was a minor setback. Things happened. You play stupid games and you won stupid prizes.Â
Perhaps your parents were right. You shouldâve kept your ass inside. Without all these damn bugs, and twigs, and fucking leaves tangling in your braids.Â
Terry busied himself with picking through your tent, analyzing what may have happened. Home. When you got home, you would be able to break down. Not here. Not with Terry right there. His ass didnât skip a beat.
âMightâve been a bear. Or something similar looking for food,â he shouted over his shoulder.
You nodded but werenât sure if he saw you. You only wanted to clean up your mess. You had so many ideas you wanted to jot down when you got back. So many observations, thoughts that raced through your mind on your hike. Now those thoughts would be gone too. Terryâs one rule this morning was no cellphone.Â
You could do a day without it. Boy, were you wrong. You made a mental note to keep your journal with you from now on. Or start carrying a smaller notebook for bullet points and then journal at home, like a sane woman.
âYou can take my tent. Iâll sleep out here and make sure nothing circles back,â he said.
You stopped from grabbing the last piece of torn paper from a bush nearby and turned to face him. âI wonât make you do that,â you said.
Terry stood up and dusted his hands, unstrapping his back from across his chest. âI didnât ask,â he said.
You snagged the last piece and carried your pathetic pile to your ruined tent. You liked that tent. You just bought that tent. Did the fucking bear think money grew on trees? You kicked at the black and orange heap and faced Terry.
âI didnât either,â you said.Â
Terry watched you with those deadly eyes as he dropped his bag to the ground. He used the bottom of his shirt to clean his sweaty face. Damn. His words drew your attention back to his face. âIâve been trained to survive outdoors. You havenât.âÂ
You tucked the pile of paper into your ruined tent and then faced him once more. Terry was about to meet a hard rock. âDonât start with the macho act, okay? Weâre adults. Iâm not making you stay outside while Iâm tucked away all nice and toasty in your tent,â you said.
A smile curved his lips as he stepped closer, using his height to his advantage. You had to look up otherwise youâd just be staring at his chest. You stood your ground and tilted your head. He may have the advantage. He may be just as stubborn as you were. But you did not back down. Ever. Some called it a toxic trait but there were other ways to survive. Everybody had something.
Terryâs eyes were even more dangerous up close. Not quite blue. Not quite brown. Some mix of the two that was hypnotizing in the way he coldly assessed you. You didnât know what he was thinking. His poker face was lethal. Not a hint or a clue.
âWhat do you suggest, then?â He asked.
A hotel, a shower, a bed, twenty four hours, and a bottle of lotion. But that was neither here nor there. You licked your lips and blinked at him. âWe can share. Or do you not want my cooties in your tent?â You asked.
That surprised a laugh out of Terry. He shook his head. âFine. But I snuggle in my sleep,â he said.Â
His jaw flexed. He looked expectantly at you, lifting an eyebrow like he expected you to back down. You only raised your chin. âGood, I get cold at night,â you said.
He blinked slowly and nodded, rocking back on his heels before stepping away. âIâll help with your tent then, before we lose the light,â he said.
When he turned around, you sighed quietly. Shaking out your sweaty palms. Oh god. Ohgodohgodohgod. What the hell did you do that for?Â
You berated yourself as you and Terry worked as a team, removing your items from inside and rolling up your tent. He secured it with rope from inside his backpack and you had a wayward thought that made you laugh out loud.
Terry had knelt on the ground, one knee up, as he secured your tent. He looked up at your laugh and you waved him off.Â
âWhat is it?â He asked, a small smile on his lips.
âNothing, itâs stupid,â you said.
âI want to know,â he said.
You pinched your lips, wondering if you should say. Aw hell, you had to get it out now otherwise youâd be giggling in your sleep all night. âYou kind of remind me of Dora,â you said.
âThe kidâs show?â He asked.
You nodded and tried to hold in the laugh, but your stomach cramped from trying. His expression only made it worse as he stared at you like you were crazy. Maybe you were. Maybe you didnât need to be in a tent with him all night.Â
Terry chuckled and shook his head. âMagic backpack?â He asked.
You nodded and burst into laughter. His eyes narrowed but he smiled at you. âCome on, giggles, weâre not done,â he said.
âWork, work, work, is that all you think about?â You asked.
âNo,â he said, his voice low and soft. You tilted your head at him and he gave you a funny look. Assessing you again. He didnât elaborate further as he moved your sleeping bag inside of his tent.
âIâll roll mine in a bit. Letâs clean this up some more before we hit the stream,â he said.
You thought about look on his face as you cleaned up around the campfire. There was no food to be found, so whatever creature or critter that did it, just made a whole lot of mess for nothing.Â
You threw away your journal pages into the small trash bag Terry had tied high in the tree above your campground. He secured it back in place after getting it down for you, gifting you with a side view of his abs. Good god, the man was built in all the right ways. God took his time with this one.
Nice and clean with only one tent now, Terry let you go to the stream to freshen up first. The woods lacked fresh amenities but it was one of those parks that did have strategically placed rest areas. You handled business and then went down to the small stream a ways down from the campsite.
It was within shouting distance and you used the fresh water to clean the sweat from your body. You returned, feeling much better now that your skin wasnât so sticky. Terry went next, disappearing from view and already lifting his shirt.
You took a risky glance over your shoulder, admiring the cut of his back as he stalked through the woods. His narrow hips moved with ease, ass in full view. Your mouth watered as your canine caught on your lower lip. Youâd eat that man alive if given half the chance.
Terryâs head was on a swivel, looking around just on GP. You hurriedly looked away, grabbing your inhaler from your pocket. You retrieved it during clean up but was too nervous to use it in front of him.
Lot of good it did you now, but you took two deep puffs to clean all this fresh air from your lungs. The one thing you did not have in common with your ancestors was a major love of the outdoors. Fuck the air and nature. Give you a hot bath and TV any day of the week.Â
Terry returned and you eased into conversation, talking about your families as the light disappeared. Terry started a fire, stoking it with a stick. You talked about life goals, hobbies, or anything really. Watched as he moved, talked, or the way he laughed. Listening to his voice was soothing. Welcoming. Terry caught fish in the river earlier and cooked it over that fire when it was good and ready.Â
You yawned one too many times and Terry chuckled. âHead inside, Iâll do one last check,â he said.
âWe didnât get to tell any scary stories,â you said.
Terry shook his head and smiled. He was already dimming the fire, carefully stamping out hot rocks in the pit he built. Watching that man build a fire shouldnât have got you that hot and bothered but it did.
âNext time, if youâre up for it.â
âYou never stop, huh?â You asked, sleepily.Â
Terry shrugged. âNot much to slow down for,â he said. He looked at you over the fire. The light from the flames danced across his skin, making him seem even more otherworldly. An understanding passed between you and you nodded, getting up without issue.Â
You patted his shoulder, understanding the note of loss in his voice. Youâd been there. You didnât understand his pain, but you understood loss all the same. You took a deep breath before heading inside his tent.
It smelled like him. Like all, pure male. You whimpered, climbing on top of your sleeping bag. He had a nice tent. Much nicer than yours, even though his was well used. It had been folded and unfolded so many times, the grooves were permanent at this point.Â
His sleeping bag was brown and looked more like a blanket compared to yours. Did his big ass even fit inside of a sleeping bag? How did he normally sleep? Did he have a bed big enough to hold him? Did he sleep sideways?
You were only half sure that he was playing when he said he snuggled in his sleep. He never mentioned a girlfriend or a wife. Did he have big pillows to snuggle? You stared at the domed ceiling of the tent, picturing what Terry looked like at rest.Â
It only made your pussy flutter picturing his smooth, dark skin. Eyes closed. Mouth slightly parted. Did he snore? You probably should have asked that before volunteering to share a tent with him.
The rustle of Terry entering the tent made you shriek and sit up, like you were caught with your hand in a cookie jar. Terry stopped at the entrance and looked at you. âJust me. Do you want me to stay outside?âÂ
âNo. Um. I was just thinking,â you said. Thinking about sucking that â
âAre you sure?âÂ
âYes,â you said, quietly.Â
You couldnât see his face now that the fire was out. He was just a solid wall of black, crab-walking into the tent and then zipping it up behind him. You were acutely aware of every move he made. Every sigh. Every huff of breath.
âGo to sleep,â he said.
âHow the hell do you know Iâm still awake?â You asked.
âYouâre too loud,â he said.Â
You could hear the smile in his voice and you rolled your eyes. âHeard that too,â he said.
âOh, shut it!â You said, rolling over to your side. Terry chuckled as he climbed into his sleeping bag.Â
You shut your eyes and focused on your breathing, focused on falling asleep. Terry made it surprisingly easy. His gentle breathing was its own type of sound machine, lulling you to sleep along with the crickets outside. The soft hum of the water nearby. Before you knew it, you were out like a light.
Rustling jerked you awake. It was hard to truly knock out in the middle of nowhere, next to someone like Terry, and not still be keen to every single sound. You were feeling hot as hell, like you woke up in a sauna.
Terryâs arms were wrapped around you and you were snuggled up under his neck, inhaling his deep masculine scent. You cracked an eye open, though you still couldnât see. Pitch black outside and inside the tent.
Terry hummed as more rustling turned your attention from the fact that he really did snuggle in his sleep. The noise made your heart speed up, clogged up your throat, made it hard to breathe.
Terry tightened his arms around you and drew his face down until his mouth was against your cheek. âShh,â he said, too quiet. You didnât think him capable.
He extracted himself from you, moving in a way that didnât make noise at all. He even managed to unzip the tent without making a sound. He only unzipped it far enough to peek out.
You werenât a damn damsel in distress. So you rolled over, not as quiet as him, and joined him at the entrance. There was enough light from the moon to cast a low glow over the campsite. There was nothing truly out there, but the rustling continued. The sound increased, and got closer and closer.
Your hand flew to Terryâs exposed knee, gripping on for dear life as an actual deer walked out of bushes and sniffed the air. You sighed, deflating against Terryâs side. Terry sighed as well, unzipping the tent more to get a good look.Â
The both of you watched the deer nose around the campsite, likely following the smell of Terryâs good cooking. Itâs ears swayed back and forth, picking through nothing as Terry was meticulous about cleaning up after himself.
âYou were scared,â he whispered, shaking his head.
âSo were you!â You fired back.
âNah, I was good,â he said.
âYou liar,â you said, with a chuckle.
âItâs okay if you were scared, you know,â he said.Â
âAinât nobody scared of no damn deer. And ainât nobody need your protection,â you said. You poked him in his chest. When did he find a chance to ditch his shirt? You had been snuggled next to that hunk of meat and he didnât have a shirt on?!
âNo?â Terry leaned over, his lips grazing your ear. âGo out there and say hi.â He tried to push you out of the tent and you fought him, trying not to spook the deer. One wrong move and the deer took off.
You giggled as you wrestled with Terry. He was so big, you didnât stand a chance. It didnât take much effort to subdue you, but you bucked and wrestled for control. No dice. Terry laughed as he pinned you beneath him, legs spread wide as he scooted in and leaned down close to your face.
âGive up?â He asked.
âLike hell,â you said. You had siblings. You knew how to scrap. Yet, all you did was rub your body against his growing bulge.Â
You stopped wrestling for control. Your breaths were harsh and loud in the stillness of the tent. Terryâs chest rose and fell but he wasnât as loud as you. You stopped struggling against his hold, letting him pin your wrists to the ground above your head.
âHmm,â he hummed, a rumbling sound low in his chest. âAinât that better?âÂ
âTerry?â You asked.
âMhm,â he said, leaning down to rub his stubble across your chin.Â
âKiss me,â you said.
Terry leaned up and kissed you. You moaned into his mouth. His lips were just as juicy, just as lush. Soft to the touch. And he was an expert. Kissing, retreating, licking, retreating, biting, retreating. He drove you wild, not giving an inch. Not giving you any wiggle room.
He completely caged you beneath him. Beneath the heaviness of him. He still had your wrists pinned, so you werenât able to touch him like you wanted. You werenât the type to be agreeable for agreeableâs sake.
Terry growled at your attempts to shake his hold. Shake his control. He bit your lip, hard, and you cried out, ending on a moan. He licked the sting away, kissing down your jaw and to your neck.
âFuck do you do to me?â He asked, more to himself as he kissed and explored your skin. He ground his bulge into your pussy and you whimpered, wrapping your legs around his waist.
Just as he showed you in training, you managed to buck your hips and flip him over. You wailed in triumph, not actually believing that would work. Your breaths were harsh, wild, as you finally got to touch him. Your hands roamed over his broad, warm chest. He took great care of his body.
In a lightning quick move, Terry grabbed your arm and flipped you over to your stomach. He grabbed both of your wrists and pinned them behind your back. You cried out from the force, but it was welcome. Inviting a rush of heat to flow through you, straight to your dripping pussy. You moaned as Terry dropped his weight on top of you.
His dick aligned with your ass and you tucked it higher. He grunted and slapped your ass. âOw!â You yelled, more from surprise. Though the fucker did hurt. With hands as large as his, he managed to cover a wide area of your ass. Leaving behind a burning sting that only made you wiggle your ass against him.
âFighting only turns me on, princess,â he said. He leaned down to your ear and growled. He sounded damn near like a lion. âGive up?â He nibbled on your ear.
âFuck no,â you said and giggled.Â
Terry moved your wrists to one hand, then used his free hand to pull your joggers down over your ass. You whimpered as he caressed your booty, intentionally missing the heated core of you.Â
You moaned, trying to wiggle your ass where you needed him most. All these months of pining, of wanting, of yearning, were coming to a head. All those times training, working beside him, tangling with him were catching up to you, Making you feel like you were going to burn to a crisp.
âUse them big girl words and tell me what you want,â he said.
You arched your back. Begging, crying whimpers escaping you as his big fingers skirted the outer edge of your pussy. The smell of your arousal permeated the tent. There was no way to deny how turned on you were. If you could just, wiggle, and move a little to the leftâ
Terry slapped your ass. âWhat did I say?â He asked.
You groaned. âFuck me!â Your horniness won this round.
Terry chuckled evilly, plunging his fingers into your dripping wet hole. You both moaned at the contact. He went knuckles deep with no resistance. He wiggled two fingers inside of you, making you moan loudly like a slut.Â
âWas that so hard?â He asked, whispering in your ear as he continued to finger fuck you. He fingered you with all the precision he was known for. Immediately making you grind on his fingers.Â
âYou can do better than that. Get that shit you want so bad,â he said. He mocked you, he teased you. Every cry or whimper that came out of your mouth, he responded with an evil chuckle or a moan of his own in your ear.
It was always followed randomly by a growl in his chest. The intimacy of the dark and the wet sucking of your pussy drove you closer to that climax. Barreled into it. Crashed into it. You screamed, loud, calling his name as that climax slammed into you like a truck.
âThere it is. Shit feel good, donât it?â He asked.
You nodded your head, forgetting for a moment that it was dark and he couldnât see you. He released your wrists and then grabbed a handful of your braids, yanking your head back. âDonât it?â He asked.
âYesss,â you moaned, biting your lip and rubbing your ass against him. âOh, fuck me, baby. Now.â
Terry chuckled, smacking your ass. âAs much as I want to, I donât have a condom,â he said.Â
âIâm clean. On the pill,â you said. Thank god for that. There was no way youâd be able to sleep tonight without the feel of him inside of you.Â
âAre you sure?â He asked.
You nodded, feeling your braids pull as it was still trapped in his tight grip. Terry chuckled. There was the sound of sucking. He moaned. âTaste good. Canât wait to get back home and spread you on my bed. Hmm, maybe my dining table. Eat you like the good fuckinâ meal you are,â he said.Â
He moved behind you, lowering his pants. He groaned, rubbing his dick against your folds. Oh shit. He was working with a third leg. âOh shit, Terry,â you moaned. Your belly ached. Hollowed out. You were so empty.Â
âYouâve been driving me crazy wearing those leggings. And that skirt you wore last week?â Terry talked as he rubbed his dick between your legs. You shook. Terrified of taking all that but knew you had to try. Had to relax and let the master work.Â
âWhat took you so fuckinâ long?â You asked.Â
Terry chuckled and smacked your ass, pulling your braids back. You moaned, back arching even more. âThat little attitude of yours,â he said.Â
âFuck yââ
Terry pushed into your wet heat, cutting off all words. You reached back, trying to grab onto him. He smacked your hand away and pushed in further, gaining more and more inches inside of you.
Your legs shook. You whimpered as he retreated and then slammed back inside. He sunk further in, stretching you, molding you around his dick. âOh god, oh fuck, oh god,â you moaned. The delicious burn was too much. Not enough.
Terry moaned, grabbing your hip and pulling you further onto his dick. You didnât think he could fit inside any more. Surely, he bottomed out by now?Â
âNot so tough with some dick in you,â Terry mocked.Â
To prevent you from saying something smart, Terry moved with earnest. His stroke game was as intense as the man himself. His strokes were brutal. Punishing. He groaned with every slide inside of you, making your thighs tingle with pleasure.
âSlam that shit back,â he said.Â
You placed your hands on the ground and threw it back on him, rising up to meet each of his thrusts. Each of his long strokes. Accepting his dick. Accepting everything he gave you.
âTerry! Oh, you fuck me so well,â you said. You sniffled, screaming with every thrust.
Terry chuckled. âI know. Spread your legs wider,â he said.
He stopped stroking so that you could spread your legs more. You moved your feet to the outer edges of his legs. He pushed down on your back, releasing your braids so that you could fall forward. He raised your hips, moving you, manhandling you.Â
Fuck, it felt so right. So good. So natural to be on your knees, ass up in the air, while he went to work. Terry grabbed your hips and moved you one last time. Then, he slammed inside in one rough thrust. You leaned forward, but he snatched you right back.
âNaw, naw. Where you going?â He moaned.
You moaned back, throwing it back but quickly losing the fight. This wasnât some little man you let fuck you. This was a grown ass man. Secure in his businesses.
âFuck, you feel good. So wet. I can barely stay inside of you,â he said. He cursed as he slammed into you like he truly wanted.
âOh fuck, oh fuck. Terry! Terry! Sh-shhâoh thatâs my spot,â you said. He brushed up against a deep spot inside of you. You thought it was a myth. You thought that shit didnât exist. Terry found it without even trying.
âThatâs your spot?â He asked. His deep voice made everything sound more filthy. More lewd.Â
âThatâs my spot!â You squealed.Â
âThatâs my spot now,â he said. No more words were spoken as he hit that spot over and over.Â
Incoherent noises and sounds dribbled from your mouth. Perhaps some spit too. Your essence dripped out of you, flooding his dick as he didnât let up. Didnât stop. Kept hitting your spot like he was at target practice and he was showing out for the crowd.Â
âOh Iâm gonna-Iâm-gonnaââ
âCum on this dick. Let me feel it. Let it go,â he cooed to you.
There was a storm gathering inside of you. It almost felt like you had to pee. âWait-âÂ
Terry moaned. Your cries turned to pleas. It both felt good and sort of hurt. âUhngf-â You exploded, wailed to the high heavens as you came and squirted. âOH SHIT!â
Terry was saying something but you couldnât hear over the sound of your yelling. Your pussy gripped onto him, locked him in, as you came and came. Terry smacked your ass and then thrust one last time before erupting with his own climax. He stuffed you completely.
Hot, thick pulses of cum throbbed inside of you. Your thighs shook. Your body twitched. Your eyes watered. You dissolved into a steaming pile of person as your eyes crossed with intense, whitehot pleasure.
Terry grunted and dropped forward, pushing you onto your sleeping bag. He kissed your damp pajama shirt. Both of you were huffing, out of breath. Thank god for your inhaler. Your lungs would be nonexistent right now.Â
Terry softened by degrees, enough for him to pull out. You moaned as his cum leaked out. Like his dick was a plug keeping it all inside.Â
âThatâs never happened before,â you mumbled. Suddenly feeling shy and embarrassed. You ought to know what that felt like. Yet, it completely caught you off guard.
Terry maneuvered in the dark until he was able to pull you off of your sleeping bag and onto his where it was dry. He rubbed your arms and shoulders. Then, he grabbed your chin and pulled you into a searing kiss.
âIâm honored I drew it out of you,â he said. âWait till I do it again.â
âAgain! Not with that monster!â You yelled and tapped his chest. Terryâs rumbling laugh was everything you needed to hear.Â
He pulled you closer, growling playfully and nipping at your skin. You giggled, trying to wiggle out of his grasp. âAgain and again and again,â he said, kissing and nibbling at you with every word while you shrieked into the night with laughter.
The end.
Who am I kidding? Of course there will be more! The Secret Terry Richmond Files
Taglist: @planetblaque @chaos-4baby @amethyst09 @ciaqui @we-outsiiiide
@browngirldominion @iv0rysoap @thecookiebratz @harmshake @00aijia00
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#Megaminds Secret Files#The Secret Terry Richmond Files#megaminds asks#Terry Richmond x Black!reader#Terry Richmond x Black reader#x Black reader#Terry Richmond x Fem!reader#Terry Richmond x Fem reader#Terry Richmond x plus size reader#x Fem reader#x plus size reader#Terry Richmond fanfic#Terry Richmond fan fic#Terry Richmond fanfiction#Terry Richmond fan fiction#Rebel Ridge fanfic#Rebel Ridge#Rebel Ridge fan fic#Rebel Ridge fan fiction#Rebel Ridge fanfiction#Aaron Pierre#Aaron Pierre smut#the brainrot is REAL
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would you do a james fainting fic đđ
âJames doesnât like you, but heâll come to your rescue. fem, 1.5k The office is hot.Â
James dabs at his neck. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Remus rubbing his eye.Â
âYou okay?â he asks.Â
You look up from the paper on your desk. When you realise he isnât asking you, you look away, your lips pressing into a tight line. James tries not to show heâs noticed.Â
âFine,â Remus mutters. âFucked off âcos of the portal changing again. I hate these long passwords.âÂ
âAre you hot or is it just me?âÂ
You clear your throat. Usually, unless itâs Remus whoâs spoken first or James has said something you find ridiculous, you wonât interrupt. âIâm really warm,â you say, âdo you think I can open the window?âÂ
âLike you can reach it, shorts. Iâll do it.â James jumps up from his seat. Whether youâre short or not has nothing to do with it. James is taller, and he holds it against you diligently.Â
He rounds your desks. The sun is worse on his skin than the heat alone. He canât imagine how awful you must feel to have it on the side of your neck all day; in the half minute he stands there opening the window, the heat makes him queasy.Â
He tugs the blinds down enough to shield you. Itâll help the entire office, he thinks. Not just you. If you thought he was doing something nice youâd only interrogate his motives until you both turned irate, and thatâs the last thing anyone needs today.Â
James isnât sure how you and he ended up not liking one another. Heâs never met anybody he didnât like that wasnât a massive wanker, and you are but youâre not, not really. When you first started heâd actually thought you were cute, and funny, if a little quiet. It didnât matter because James is used to quiet people. But one thing turned to another, heâd used your mug without washing it, youâd left him off of the department emails for the quarter, then the snipping started. Constant nitpicking and bickering. You make it too easy, and so what if he likes how you look when youâre mad? It doesnât hurt anybody to put your mug in the stockroom and your lunch on a different shelf. If anything, heâs keeping you vigilant.Â
You donât look vigilant. You donât say anything as James sits back down, even though he hits his knee for the hundredth time on his desk. You usually love it. Sometimes when youâre tired he does it on purpose to give you a reason to keep going till 4:30.Â
âAre you okay?â James asks finally, eyeing your face. âYou look funnier than usual.âÂ
âIâm fine.âÂ
âAre you sure?â He should stop being mean. You look like youâre gonna pass out.Â
Remus peeks over his computer screen. âYou donât look well,â he says.Â
âIâm fine.â You roll your seat back.Â
James pushes back at the same time. âWait a secondââ
Youâre standing before James can stop you, but he stands up anyways, and he takes your elbow into his hand though he shouldnât. You give him the most peculiar look, almost like youâre enjoying his touch, just for those two seconds, before your chin dips down and your eyes squeeze closed, and all of you goes slack.Â
James grabs you at the precipice of a bad fall.Â
Youâre still as a doll in his hands. He leans back with a quick sigh, his arm curling over the small of your back and upward. Your legs arenât holding your weight, and you begin to slip.Â
James could keep you up, he doesnât go to the gym for nothing, but Remus rushes to his aid and pushes your chair back, helping him set you down on the floor. âWhat do we do?â Remus asks urgently.Â
James puts his hand behind your head. Youâre slack. When he touches your face, your skin is as hot as the heart of a furnace.Â
âCan you get some water?â he asks Remus.Â
James is peculiarly calm. He knows youâre just hot, itâs not uncommon for people to faint in high temperatures, and heâs honestly confident in his ability to look after you. Itâs very sad to see you unwell, of course, and his heart is beating fast as he takes in your slack mouth.Â
âHey, Y/N,â he says, cupping your cheek gently. He gives your face a little shake, reluctant to be rough with you while youâre vulnerable, even if some force would help. âHey, can you hear me? Youâre okay, can you open your eyes?âÂ
Nothing. He leans down a touch to listen for your breath, and itâs fine, if a tad fast.Â
Remus comes back with a cup of water and Sirius, which is predictable but not super helpful. âJesus,â Sirius says. âIâll call an ambulance.âÂ
âSheâll die of embarrassment,â Remus says.Â
âSheâs coming around,â James says, patting your cheek, thrilled when your eyelashes twitch. âI think we should go into the break room, is it empty? We can sit her on the sofa.âÂ
âYou donât think we should do something a bit more drastic?â Sirius asks.Â
James feels rather defensive of you. Remus is right, you would die of embarrassment if they called an ambulance, and heâs sure youâre fine. You have to be fine. âShe just fainted, itâs so hot in here. Go open a window in the break room and weâll wait for her to come around.âÂ
Sirius glares playfully at being told what to do, but he goes, and Remus kneels down beside James with a cup of water. Someone from the front of the office asks if youâre alright, but James misses what theyâre saying as you let out a whine.Â
All of a sudden, his attention is fully yours.Â
âHey,â he murmurs.Â
Your eyes open slowly, lashes heavy like theyâre thick with honey. You take in a deep, deep breath through your nose, and you blink, and you turn into his hand where itâs holding your cheek with all the familiarity of a lover. âJames,â you mumble.Â
His stomach aches. He ignores it. âYou okay? Can you look at me properly? I need to make sure youâre fine.âÂ
âIâm fine,â you say, face pressed to his hand.Â
âJust look at me. Just for a second.âÂ
You pull yourself with clear annoyance from his hand and open your eyes properly. He can pinpoint the moment you realise who he is, how you're touching, and he canât explain the pang he gets when you rush up and away from his touch. âOh, fuck,â you mumble, dropping your head, your fingers to your forehead and your thumb covering your eyes.Â
âHey, donât move around so much.â He continues to be soft. You might have realised who it is thatâs trying to look after you, and you might not want him to, but heâll be damned if he lets your bickering stop him from making sure youâre as okay as heâd claimed to everyone else. âAre you okay?âÂ
âDid IâŚâÂ
âYou fainted. Donât worry, I caught you. Take it easy, okay? Have this.âÂ
He presses the cup of water into your hand.
Somewhere behind him, Remus has moved away, and is seemingly fending off the masses of people coming to offer assistance.Â
You see them looking at you behind him and cover your face.Â
James shuffles forward quickly. âHey, itâs okay. Iâm not gonna let anyone see you. Iâm saving this embarrassment all for myself. Please drink your water.âÂ
âDid everybody see me fall?âÂ
âThey saw us engaged in a loving cwtch. It was very romantic.âÂ
You sip your water. In truth, you donât look much better for passing out, and James canât get the feeling of your face out of his hand. He wants to touch you again, his fingers hesitating an inch from your knee.Â
âSorry.âÂ
âDonât be,â he says. âYou donât control the weather. Do you?âÂ
âOf course I donât.âÂ
âThen why are you sorry? It was alright. You have nothing to be sorry for, okay? We just want to make sure youâre okay. Sirius wanted to call an ambulance,â âyou visibly baulkâ âand I told him no, donât worry. Then all the attention would be on you, and not me for my valiant rescue.âÂ
âWas I heavy?â you ask, your mumbling nearly friendly.Â
âI can bench press two twenty.âÂ
âThat⌠doesnât mean anything to me.âÂ
âYouâre nothing I couldnât handle, shortcake. Do you think you can stand up? Iâll take you into the break room. You can lay down on the sofa.âÂ
You make a soft sound James wonât soon forget and put your hand out for his help. He doesnât have to force you. You donât have to ask. He helps you stand and keeps an arm behind your back, shielding you from the worried and curious gazes of your coworkers.Â
You press your cheek to his chest.Â
Remus looks at you both like youâve been body-snatched, but itâs too late to wuss out now.Â
#james potter#james potter x reader#james potter x fem!reader#james potter x y/n#james potter x you#james potter fic#james potter fluff#james potter blurb#james potter drabble#james potter imagine#james potter fanfic#james potter fanfiction#james potter scenario#james potter oneshot#the marauders#marauders era#marauders
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sundog
prompt: Simon comes across a girl when she's recently been evicted and takes her back to his place, despite her reservations (nsfw, 8.5k) [based on this old post] [on ao3 here]
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The circumstances of your life change so abruptly that you lose sight of it for a moment.Â
Then, youâre out on the streets with the clothes on your back and a suitcase packed so full that a sweater sleeve sticks out where the zippers meet. The locks to your apartment have already been changed. You know because you tried them anyway, desperately hoping that the eviction notice taped to your door might have been misplaced.
Evidently not. The keys donât work. You contemplate chucking them on the walk out, but instead you keep them close like a talisman of protection, though itâs failed to live up to its purpose so far.Â
Youâve got it under control for a day. If by âunder controlâ, you mean experiencing a full body panic attack in the locker room of the twenty-four hour gym down the street from your old apartment. The staff gives you uncomfortable looks when you come in on the verge of tears with your suitcase rolling behind you, but they let you in because your membership is up to date. If you can count on anything in life, itâs consumerism.Â
That doesnât last long though, mainly because a locker and a wood bench wonât cut it in the long term. You sleep in the back of the local library until a stern-faced, if pitying, librarian threatens to call the cops on you. Pity isnât sympathy, evidently.Â
Gym management threatens to cut the lock on the locker youâve been using as temporary storage space. Matter of fact, they say, you canât be using the locker room as your quasi apartment between the hours of nine P.M. and seven A.M. just because everything else in the city is closed. Go home, they say.Â
What home, you donât say, before packing up your things and heading out on your way.Â
If thereâs one thing you can count on, itâs capitalism.Â
You didnât think this kind of thing could happen to someone like you. Someone like you being an ordinary person. Homelessness always felt like a far away concept. But the world is cruel and life is brutal. What you didnât realize before was that, at any moment in time, youâve been closer to poverty than wealth, and here you are now, sitting in the park with your suitcase between your legs, the sun rapidly setting behind you, your phone at ten percent battery, and nowhere to go because your family is, frankly, nonexistent, and your friends, for lack of a better word, have almost entirely washed their hands of you.
Sorry, theyâd say, the frown emoji expressing something like pity at a distance. We donât have a couch to spare.Â
I can sleep on the floor, youâd texted back. Theyâd gotten cagey after that. People like to be wanted only to a certain extent.
You can feel the panic rise up in you, too big to contain. It comes out in the form of blubbering tears and snot running from your nose. Big, hiccuping sobs. Itâs not pretty. Passersby avert their eyes for the most part, save for the ones that eye you with something bordering on perverse delight and thatâs what finally makes you get up and speed walk away, lest they feel compelled to approach you.Â
But even in the tailwinds of summer, it gets cold outside at night. Worst of all, as the evening grows dark, the streets empty out until you canât help but feel like a beacon with your little rolling suitcase. It clatters against the sidewalk as you try to hoof it down the street, looking for any shop still open to loiter in. Most close after nine though. Youâve googled homeless shelters, but the sheer anxiety keeps you floundering around up and down the streets instead.
It feels beyond helpless. Youâre in a state like youâve never been before, crying under a streetlamp because you needed a moment just to get your bearings.Â
What you know now is that this world is a house of false bottoms. You thought the circumstances of your life could never change. You were never well to do, but you were doing well. The sight of the unhoused sitting with their backs to the brick and mortar stores on your walk home or congregated in a park in the middle of the city with their tents and shopping carts used to fill you with immeasurable pity, maybe even a quiet momentâs reflection; now, you see them as kin.Â
Easy, isnât it? To slip between states. To go from solid to liquid to gaseous. Easier than you ever could have expected.Â
When it starts to rain, you almost close your eyes in relief. Anyone couldâve predicted this.Â
You almost donât respond to him at first, keeping your eyes trained on the sidewalk to avoid any bumps. Also, it never pays to look up at a man barking at you, especially not when heâs barking something like, Girl or Bird, turn around.Â
Then he says it again, closer this time, and youâre forced to look up, if only to see whoâs approaching you. Your suspicion melts away to distrust at the sight of the man stalking towards you. Distrust with a touch of trepidationâmaybe outright alarm. Surely no man his size wearing a balaclava tucked into a hoodie straining around his arms would have innocent designs on you.Â
Heâs one of the bigger men youâve ever come across. You look across the street to see if thereâs a bar missing its bouncer, but all the shop fronts are dark like the ones on your side.Â
You donât bolt at the sight of him, but itâs a near thing. He appears from nowhere, and yet thereâs nowhere for him to hide. Not with the size and breadth of him damn near taking up the whole sidewalk. His demeanour and stride evoke such a sense of authority that at first you mistake him for a plainclothes man, and wouldnât that be just the icing on the shit cake of a week youâve been experiencing. But something about him says otherwise.Â
âPlan on catchinâ your death out here?â he asks, and you shiver. Not from the cold, but from the sound of his voice.Â
Youâre not used to talking to strangers. A month ago, you wouldâve ignored the man lambasting you for being out in the rain; maybe crossed the street and hailed a cab instead. You donât have those kinds of options anymore. The only thing left in your repertoire is to shout back.Â
âIâve got mace!â you yell out, your voice a hoarse rattle carved out from hours spent crying.Â
âThatâll do ya fuck all out here,â he says, a touch condescendingly. âYou lost or somethinâ?â
âIâm not lost,â you sniff, rubbing the snot away from your nose with the end of your sleeve.
âThen get home instead of roaminâ the streets. Youâre askinâ to get snatched up, bird.â
The threat of that has been lingering in your head these past few days, even stretching back to the very first moment that you noticed the sign on your door, but now it has its intended effect. You shake.Â
âI canât,â you whisper.
âBloody hell,â he sighs. âWhy the fuck not? Need someone to call you a cab?â
âI got evicted. I donât have a home,â you say, and sniffle when your nose leaks again. Saying it outloud brings tears to your eyes again, a pressure building behind your orbital sockets and down to the tip of your nose.Â
You must look like the saddest thing in the world standing there in the rain under the dim light of the streetlamp, the pole looped with graffiti and old gum. When the man berating you for being out in it takes a step forward, coming into the light, you can finally make out the bored depths of his eyes. A deep brown. Entirely unimpressed with the picture in front of him, maybe even a bit peeved.Â
Your socks are wet and your shoes squelch when you take a step back. You pull the sheer sweater tighter around your frame, but it does nothing to protect you from the damp, frigid air.Â
âYou been out here long?â he asks, taking another step closer. Not tentatively either. His gaze sweeps over you proprietarily, taking stock; his arrogance comes as an afterthought. Heâs not rubbing it in your face that he can do whatever he likesâhe just does.Â
You wheel your suitcase around in front of you to put something between the two of you. ââŚJust today. The gym kicked me out.â
You sound petulant, words chewed between your lips and teeth; begrudgingly admitting to the various pitfalls of your existence. All the bad luck. Itâs shameful to admit to losing complete control of your life.Â
âHavenât ya got any family, girl? Friends? Whatâre they letting a girl like you stay out on the streets for?â
You could be sick on the pavement. ââŚThatâs none of your business.â
His eyes go flat at that, unimpressed. âYou always this nasty to people tryinâ to help?â
And youâre not. Thatâs the part that grates the most. Youâre all soft underbelly; no bark, no bite. Itâs inconceivable that this couldâve happened to youâinconceivable because your head is filled with false promises and mythologies. The myth of exceptionalism. This happens to other people. Not good girls that go to college and get their degrees and find a stable job.Â
Theyâve pulled the rug out from under you so fast that you havenât even toppled over yet. Thatâs how quick it all happened.Â
âWhat help are you?â The bite comes out of nowhere, fueled by bitter humiliation and resentment for the predicament youâve found yourself in. âAre you gonna put me up in a hotel?â
âThink Iâm made of money, bird?â he asks rhetorically.Â
âYouâve probably got more than I have.âÂ
Now youâre weepy again at the thought. Down to your last hundred dollars and youâre in between jobs at the moment. It mightâve been easier to haul yourself out of poverty if applying for jobs didnât require a mailing address. Thatâll be your first priority once you find a place to live. But conversely, how are you meant to find housing with no proof of income? Landlords laugh in your face before slamming the door shut. The conversations are circular, but they always come to a grinding halt; thatâs the only thing youâve learned to expect.Â
The worst part of this whole conversation is that it doesnât follow any of the scripts youâve previously memorized. When have you ever had to deal with a man interrogating you about your place of residence? It makes no sense.Â
Itâs inconceivable to imagine that this is happening to you, but it is. Life comes at you hard, with a razorâs edge. Sharp enough to cut, to lacerate.Â
âYou need a place to stay,â he states bluntly.Â
âItâs fine. IâllâIâll find something.âÂ
âYou could come home with me.â He says it so bluntly that for a moment all you can do is blink. Surely you misheard him. Surely a man of his size and breadth, dark mask obscuring his face, wouldnât be daft enough to ask a woman he found on the street to come home with him.
The offer, as well-intentioned as you hope it is, puts you on edge. âNo, thatâsâŚthatâs alright. I donât want toâŚput you out. I was going to look up nearby shelters.â
âSheltersâll all be full this time of night,â he says. âNever been on the streets?â
You clenched your teeth, nerves starting to get the better of you.Â
âI can go to a church,â you say, voice terse now, frayed with nerves.Â
He snorts. âHavenât been to one in a long time, but pretty sure those close too, pet. Itâs late.â
You sway on your feet, the suitcase at your side the only thing keeping your knees from buckling. Dead ends everywhere you turn. Youâve always thought of yourself as resourceful; that if push came to shove, youâd figure your way out of any sticky situation. That smacks of arrogance now. All your suppositions are dissolving right in front of you, your own self-image along with it.Â
A heavy foot stepping into a puddle brings you back to focus. The masked man is closer now, within armâs reach. Your heart jumps into your throat. He towers over you, monolith man; big as a sequoia, or other deadland creatures that vanish out of sight when you catch a shadow out of the corner of your eye and whirl around to look it dead on.Â
âI canât go home with a stranger.â
You know youâre not supposed to put your faith in strange men. Bad things happen to girls that go around trusting any man that offers up their help.Â
The fist in your chest loosens infinitesimally when the man reaches up to pull the mask off his head. Heâs every inch the brute you imagined in your headâblunt chin and crooked nose, a nasty scar running up his lip. There are scars all over his face, in factâbisecting his left eyebrow and down his cheek. The blond hair on his head is slightly grown out, like heâs used to keeping it neat and tight but itâs been awhile since his head has seen a razor. His beard grows in a bit patchy, the burnish gold of a five oâclock shadow.
You frown. âIs that supposed to make me trust you?â
âWell, now weâre not strangers, are we?â
âThat doesnâtâthat doesnât change anything! I still donât know you.â
He shrugs. Takes a step back. âSuit yourself then. No skin off my ass.â
Your stomach roils, anxiety coming back with a vengeance. You hadnât noticed it recede since the man started talking to you, but you notice its return. When he makes a move to turn back around, you lurch forward, your hand extending out and fisting in the side of his shirt. He pauses, then looks down at you.Â
ââŚWhere else am I supposed to go?â you whisper.
He tilts his head. âCould sleep on a bench in the park.â
You glare at him through tear-soaked eyes. âThatâs not funny.â
âWasnât meant to be. Youâre shit out of other options at this time of night.â
âSo, what? Now itâs-itâs my fault or something?â Â
His eyes donât exactly soften, but they lose their hard edge.Â
âIâm not gonna ask twice,â he says. Not cautioning you, just stating a fact. âYou coming or not?â
Disaster seems like a given at this point. At least you could pick your poison.Â
Words are beyond you though, so you just bite your lip and nod, eyes downcast now.Â
What else is there for you to do but follow him after that? You trail along after him like a sad, wet cat left out in the rain.Â
He finds her wandering the streets with her pretty little suitcase rolling over every bump and crack in the sidewalk and thereâs no fighting the urge to drag her home.Â
She doesnât look like a runaway. Just a poor thing down on her luck. Her cheeks practically glisten with her tears when she looks up at him with her big, pathetic eyes, and it makes his cock plump up against his thigh.Â
Thatâs not what this is about though. Simon presses his hand against his dick to rub out some of the ache while she flutters around the bedroom and reminds himself of that again. He didnât take her home to maul her like a dog. He dragged her back to his flat because she looked wounded and scared out of her wits.Â
He can be good every now and then.Â
âSit down, will ya?â he grunts, tugging her down onto the couch when she flits across the room to grab more of her shit out of her suitcase, glancing down at him apprehensively on her way by. She yelps when he sends her sprawling onto the couch.Â
His flat isnât much. A one-bedroom above a laundromat; eggshell walls and torn up baseboards because he hasnât gotten around to fixing the place up. Itâs better than sleeping on the streets though, he knows that much.Â
Simonâs no stranger to that; if being in the military taught him anything, it was how to survive regardless of circumstances. In the weeks after his medical dischargeâhis knees beyond busted, basically bone on bone, and even these days, though he works more to have something to do than to earn a living, they still scream at him when he puts too much weight on themâhe wandered aimlessly for a bit, crashing on Gazâs couch for a bit and sleeping on benches for a spell after that before finding his footing again.Â
Simon ignores the way that she yaps at him though, used to tuning people out. He flicks on the television and flips to a show that looks vaguely entertaining before getting up and ambling over to the kitchen.Â
âD-do you want me to help?â she asks from the kitchen, tripping over her words in her haste to get them out.Â
She reeks of the need to please. Desperate; cloying, sickly sweet like flowering dracaena. It clings to her like a perfume, silk-wrapped and packaged just for him. It could give a man like him indecent thoughts. His thoughts already tend towards the impure.Â
He must eye her like a ravenous animal because she flinches suddenly under his gaze, eyes flicking away nervously before meeting his again. Good girl, Simon wants to say. Eyes on me.Â
âSit down,â he barks instead, and relishes in the way she sits back down with her hands tucked under her thighs.Â
Sheâs really a pretty little thing. A shame that he found her out wandering in the rain, out where any man with worse intentions could have stumbled across her. The thought alone could drive him to violence. Again he stares at the back of her head and the slope of her shoulders, evaluating. His bloodlust dulls to a simmer. It pounds in his ears like a dull drum, but at least now he can hear again.Â
Anyone else could have found her first, but they didnât. He did. That tempers the homicidal impulse thrumming in his blood. Sheâs in his flat now, freshly showered and skin still damp. When she looks over her shoulder, itâs him she sees.Â
Poor bird with her clipped wings. Sheâs not in danger of flying off anytime soon. The thought placates him. Tucked away in his cage, he doesnât have to rend anyone limb from limb.
Itâs been years since he traded in his fatigues for a hi vis jumpsuit, but some days he misses it so acutely that his hands shake and his vision fades in and out. This is one of those days. He toys with the idea of reaching out to Price in the morning to learn more about her, but then discards the idea. Better if it comes straight from her.
Besides, he doesnât like asking for favours anyway.
âNameâs Simon, by the way,â he grunts, nostrils flaring when he sees her flinch at the sound of his voice. âRiley.â
âOh,â is all she says. He waits a beat.
âGonna give me your name, bird?â
She does, voice squeaky like itâs said under duress. That pisses him off more.Â
He's not much of a cook, but he can whip up something quick, so he tosses one of his frozen meals into the microwave and sits her in front of the TV while she shivers and shakes on the couch.
They eat in silence, the TV on in the background. Itâs the only noise besides the soft sound of her chewing. Simon can tell sheâs gone hungry in recent days by the voracious way she eats, unable to keep herself from shovelling the food into her mouth. She seems almost embarrassed by it after swallowing her last bite, looking over at him from the corner of her eye like a guilty dog. He ignores it, keeping his eyes on the TV instead.
He can tell she wants to say something. A shit childhood and two decades in the military have left him with the ability to sniff out tension, and it comes off her in waves. After putting her plate on the coffee table, she sits back against the couch and squeezes her fists over her lap. Gnaws her lip and casts furtive glances in his direction. When the tears build up on her waterline, his cock twitches.Â
âWhat?â he barks after the umpteenth sniffle, twisting to face her.Â
âIâumâI just wanted to say thank you,â she whispers, her head still tilted downward, trying to make herself small enough to go unnoticed.Â
Simon stares down at her, unblinking. He half wishes sheâd cry a little more, just a few tears to soothe the beast in his chest. Itâs better for her that her eyes remain dry. He doesnât think he could hold himself back if one slipped down her cheek right now. Heâd have to grab her by the nape of her neck and twist her over the side of the couch, shove down both their drawers and feed his cock into the warm, wet slot between her legs. Pummel her little cunt until his spend leaks out in thick, viscous globs, until her thighs shake so violently that only his hands on her shoulders and his shaft shoved deep in her pussy keeps her upright.Â
He can almost smell it from between her legs, throbbing with gratefulness. He stares down unabashedly at the spot between her legs. Let her say something about it.Â
âDonât mention it,â he says instead, tilting his head when her tongue peeks out to wet her lips. ââWas nothing.â
âNo, it was really nice of you,â she insists, speaking more forcefully after gathering up some of her courage. âWhat if IâŚâyou took a stranger into your house.â
That gets the blood pumping. âGonna gut me while I sleep, pet?â
Itâs half deranged that his cock chubs up in his jeans at the thought of his little bird with a knife in her hands, hands dripping with wet, dark blood. He shifts, readjusting himself so the metal teeth of his zipper donât bite into his dick.Â
She frowns. Endearing. âI wouldnât do that.â
âNot really good at looking after yourself, are you?â
âI amâitâs justâŚâ tears build up on her waterline again, âit was one thing after another. I couldnât get it all together.â
Pity isnât an emotion heâs accustomed to feeling. Simonâs not even sure if thatâs what heâs feeling now. Itâs more like the bastard child of pity.Â
He lets her off to bed with a warning not to fuck with anything in his room. She skitters off quickly after that. Her cute little ass follows her into the room until she shuts the door behind her, hiding it from view. He huffs. Being good never gets him anywhere.
He lets her run away though because he canât tarnish everything he touches. Some things deserve to stay polished.Â
Instead, he brushes his teeth and washes the last of the dishes before turning in as well, getting a clean sheet out of the linen closet to drape over himself. The couch isnât nearly long enough for him to stretch out on, not like the king sized bed in his room; thereâs already a spring poking him right in the middle of his back.
Sleep wonât come easy tonight.Â
Simon wakes up on the couch with a kink in his neck. He lays there for several minutes gritting his teeth until the worst of it passes. When he sits up, his back cracks and pops, joints loosening only reluctantly. His age is getting away from him again; the wear and tear on his body finally starting to catch up. Thereâs only so much abuse he can put himself through.Â
The morning races on outside his front door and he has work to get to, but his body orients towards the closed door of his bedroom almost without his say. It creaks as it swings open.Â
In the slowly dimming haze of sleep, he must have subconsciously thought he dreamt the night before because seeing the girl from yesterday curled up in his bed halts him in his tracks. Her suitcase is open on the floor beside the bed. She must have changed into her pyjamas after slinking away last night because he doesnât recognize the little cotton shorts hugging the swell of her ass and the shirt riding up over her belly button.Â
Despite the perfunctory morning jerk he gave himself just ten minutes prior, his cock twitches in his work pants, gaze locked on the underside of her ass, the flesh peeking out from beneath her sleep shorts.Â
The hunger ebbs out of a deep, cavernous hole in him. A heavy, oppressive heat; lust so gnarled and twisted that he hardly recognizes it. He can see it play out in his mindâcrawling over the birdâs prone form and turning her over onto her belly, his knees on either side of her legs, cloaking her. Tugging down the zipper of his pants and wrenching those slutty shorts down to mid-thigh before burying his shaft in her hole. Little bird that followed him home, sleeping in his bed. She should thank him for his help with a wet hole.Â
Simon takes a step into the room and then stops. He wonâtâcanâtâ
His teeth grind together from how hard he clenches his jaw.Â
He stands in the doorway and watches her sleep in his bed for longer than he should. Only when he feels something ugly well up in his chest does he finally bark out her name, snorting softly when she jumps and nearly falls right off the side of the bed.Â
âGet up,â Simon grunts. âAnd make yourself something to eat. Iâve gotta head out.â
He walks away before the befuddled look on her face makes him crack a smile.Â
She tiptoes out a few minutes later, still in her PJs. Her wary glances tick him off. For the effort itâs taken him to keep his hands to himself, he deserves more than her shifty looks, scoring him like he split her little peach open in her sleep. Â
Breakfast is an uncomfortable affair. Itâs partly his fault, but he doesnât apologize for it. They eat in tense silence until itâs time for him to head to work.Â
âDon't think about leavingâany of my shit gets nicked and it's your ass.â
He leaves her with that warning, slamming the door behind him.
Your heart goes quiet at the dawning of your new life.Â
Adjusting to your new reality takes a bit of effort. The first few days with Simon feel tenuous at best. You worry constantly about doing something wrong and finding yourself back out on the streets. Youâre thankful to the point of pandering, apologizing for any sudden move or sound that you make. You can tell it annoys him.Â
The real work is recontextualizing your perception of yourself. The world feels strange now that youâre outside of it; alien somehow. You used to think of yourself as somehow inextricably woven into the fabric of society. The thought of losing everything never even occurred to you. It never even presented itself as a possibility. You worried about homelessness the way people worry about quicksandâin some nebulous way touching on the real without being absorbed by it.Â
And now you are cut from another cloth altogether; abruptly, without any warning. You used to feel like one with the rest of the world, a kind of kinship based less on parentage or ancestry and more on inner nature. Werenât you the same as any of them? But now the drapery has been pulled down and you knowâyou are not the same.Â
Your future used to shimmer under the surface like a bioluminescent fish, but now itâs just a ghost.
He tells you to stay put when he goes to work so you do, spending the days puttering around the apartment, watching TV, and cleaning. Thereâs not much else to do. Itâs almost a relief, to be honest. Youâve spent so much time without a place to call home that the second someone offered you one, the outside world became anathema in your head. You couldnât step foot out of the front door even if you wanted to.Â
Tears well up at the smallest thing. You blubber over not being able to work the coffee machine in the kitchen. When the sound goes out on the TV, you cry so hard that it leaves you woozy. Youâre lachrymose, downtrodden. Soul a startling verdigris; your waterlines might as well be white with encrustations of salt.Â
He must notice the dark cloud following you from room to room, but he doesnât bring it up. Youâd find it tactful, but you know him a bit better than that.Â
Then Simon brings home a cat after his shift one day and you donât know what to say to that.
Thank you doesnât seem to suffice. I love it doesnât cut it close. The truth of the matter is that words only ever approximate the feeling; they can get close enough to give you a glimmer of whatâs stashed inside, but you canât pry them all the way open. So you take the off-white cat from him when he practically tosses the poor thing into your arms, and stare up at him wide-eyed, eyes already watering for reasons once again unbeknownst to you.Â
âThank you for taking him home,â you say, already on the verge of tears.
He stares down at you, unblinking. Youâre learning to read into his silences though.Â
âDonât expect me to take care of it,â he says instead of accepting your thanks. âIf you canât handle it, itâs going back outside.âÂ
You hold the cat tight to your chest, staring up at him with horror until the little beast nearly scratches your eye out in an effort to squirm out of your arms.Â
At first, youâre not sure what to make of it. It canât be a peace offering because, apart from the rare occasions where you manage to get on his nerves (not wholly impossible, but youâre learning how to stay on his good side for the most part), you and Simon get along pretty well. You coexist, at least. He cooks, you clean.Â
Itâs likely a distraction, you finally realize, something to keep you from moping around the apartment all the time, listless and directionless. Despite the fact that youâre no longer in any immediate danger now that you have a roof over your head, misery still clings to you like a second skin. The relative safety of Simonâs flat has actually only given you a chance to really properly mourn the loss of your former life.Â
Training the cat to wear a harness without tipping over (the little drama king) and taking him on his first walk outside (just a little turn around the block, though you half jump out of your skin whenever you cross paths with another person) gives you enough of a sense of purpose to propel you through the next week.Â
You can tell that Simon thinks the cat is more trouble than itâs worth, especially when it decides to fixate on the one person in the flat that doesnât pay it a lick of attention, but still it makes your heart melt to see it curled up by his side when you watch TV together at the end of the night.Â
âIs this normal for you?â you ask, hands folded in your lap.
His gaze doesnât move from the television screen. âIs what normal?â
âTaking in strays.â
He snorts, then takes a second to answer. âNo.â
You wonder if he intends to sound as caustic as he comes across. The truth is self-evident though. Words only mask the real, and the real in this case is that Simon Riley is a man that feeds and takes home strays. He can grumble about it all he wants. Itâs a bit demeaning to think of yourself that way, but once again, the truth is what it is.Â
You study him from the corner of your eye until bedtime rolls around again. Heâs become the most interesting thing in the world to you, through every fault of his own.
If he didnât want you to fixate on him, he wouldnât have left you home alone with nothing else to do.Â
âBird!â Simon roars from the other room. âThe catâs pissed on the floor again.â
You spring out of bed before Simon has a chance to toss it out onto the balcony.Â
It feels temporary up until the first time you use Simonâs address on a job application. It stands out stark on your phone screen, black on glowing white. Youâve always preferred it to dark mode, though that preference has fluctuated in recent weeks as youâve spent more and more time on your phone.Â
This is the first time staring at the screen without blinking for a prolonged period of time that hasnât left you with a throbbing migraine.Â
He tells you to stop bothering him with stupid shit when you ask him if itâs alright to use his address. That answers that. Guilt lingers on the periphery of your mind the first time that you do, but then the application is submitted. An innocuous grey box that redefines your whole world in a way that [Thanks for applying!] doesnât seem to encapsulate.Â
Your old friends come next. They come back one by one, guilty, furtive looks aplenty. You Facetime the one who wouldnât let you sleep on her couch while sitting on Simonâs bed. When she asks you about your living situation, all you tell her is that you found a roommate. It doesnât feel right to give her more information than that. What has she done to deserve your honesty?Â
You manage pleasantries and a half decent conversation, but truth again lingers at the back of your mind. The unspoken reality that this personâsomeone you trustedâcouldâve been there for you in your time of need but chose to look the other way instead. Like taking you in wouldâve been some big, terrible thing.Â
The body forgets everything except what hurts it. The body remembers nothing except what helps it survive.Â
Gratefulness lodges into your heart like an arrow shot from a castleâs ramparts intent on your demise. You could pull it out from the other side and succumb to blood loss, or you could push forward, lay siege to the man hidden inside its walls.Â
And you do. You want to show him every grateful inch of you. Even when it only results in more upset. Simon comes home to the smoke alarm blaring and a small fire in the microwave before he bans you from the kitchen altogether. You only cry for an hour in the bedroom with the door shut before he drags you out to takeout on the table in the living room. Itâs an improvement.Â
âIâm sorry,â you sniffle into your veggie burger, on the verge of tears again when you glance into the kitchen to see most of the mess still there.Â
âItâs fine.â
âI just want toâI wanted to make it up to youâŚfor taking me in.â
âYou donât owe me shit,â he says brusquely, dismissing you. His tone tells you to drop it, but that seems as likely as you growing wings and flying away.Â
âYes, I do. You let me stay here when I didnât have anywhere else to go.â
âIf you want to make it up to me, take care of the cat and stop leaving your shit all over the bathroom. Found your knickers on the floor after you showered yesterday.â
Your face goes hot at that. You have nothing else to say.Â
Your attraction is a banal consequence of living under the same roof as him. There are only so many times he can come up behind you while youâre making your morning cup of coffee and swipe your mug before taking a sip from over your shoulder, barricading you against the counter. Acutely aware of the size of him with the way heâs pressed up against you.Â
You lose your train of thought whenever Simon wanders into a room. He lumbers in like a beast, steel-toed boots covered in mud and dust, ignoring the way you scold him for walking around the apartment in his shoes. Just cocks an eyebrow and stares down at you knowingly, like he can see right through you, knows that youâre only squawking and flitting around to hide the way your thighs rub together.Â
âItâs my fuckinâ flat,â he says instead of pointing out that your pussyâs wet because she knows thereâs a man in the house that could take care of her proper. You know it too.Â
âI live here too, you know,â you huff. âI canât wash the floors every time you come home.â
âThought I was doing you a favour letting you live here.â
His words would fill you with righteous indignation, but they donât because his actions donât line up. You study him like a moth under glass, enthralled by the parts of him that used to frighten you.Â
Itâs more than that though. Heâs wedged himself into the hurt place in your heart, holding it up like Atlas.Â
You really do think that thereâs something so special about him that youâll never be able to articulate. Simon is everything you didnât know you desperately wanted. The longer you live with him, the harder it is to deny how much you need him.Â
You will show your gratitude though. Every tender, aching morsel of it.Â
The little peach she grinds on his thigh is wet and ripe. Simon doesnât tell her that he doesnât need her gratitude; if he wanted it, he wouldâve taken it already. But he doesnât shove her out of his lap either. Itâs not his problem if she thinks itâs necessary or not.
Maybe itâs not solely for his benefit, he concedes when she winds both arms around his neck and pushes her supple tits into his chest, climbing over his lap until her pussy is pressed right up against the cock fattening up in his jeans. She whimpers like sheâs in pain.Â
Must not come a lot; he knows she at least hasnât in recent days. Simonâs always been a light sleeperâheâs sure he wouldâve heard any desperate attempts to get herself off in his bed, the springs creaking under her weight, her hushed, bitten off moans leaking out from under the doorframe. The thought riles him up more than he thought it would.Â
Still, Simon doesnât lift a hand to help the poor bird in his lap as she grinds down on his length. His arms stay stretched across the back of the couch, hips canted just enough to give her a perch and nothing more.Â
She gasps every word into his ear, voice all pitched and breathy. âAh, ah, ahâthank you, thank you, IâŚâcan I please have it? Please, please let me, Simon, pleasepleasepleaseââ
It feels like everything theyâve been through so far has been leading to this. Heâd smelt it coming like blood in the water.Â
All week, his bird has been sitting on her hands and trying not to give herself away. Cloaked in a nervous, frenetic energy. Anticipatory. Sheâd doe-eyed him the night before and begged him to sleep in the bed with her instead of wrecking his back on the couch, but heâd ignored her in favour of watching Argentina decimate Croatia in the semi-finals. It must have not sat right with her though because sheâd been broody from the moment he left for work until he got home, steering him into the kitchen and practically hand feeding him before coaxing him into the living room to watch a movie while she cuddled up beside him.
That hadnât lasted long.Â
âWhatâs gotten into you, pet?â Simon asks, hardly dissuading her when she presses petal soft lips to his jaw and nuzzles, breathing heavily. His heart swells. Desperate little slut.Â
âTook care of me,â she mumbles, almost slurring her words. âAlways taking care of me, Simon.â
Thereâs no denying how hard it makes him to think about being her protector. The littlest things make her smile. Even the bloody cat had her trailing after him for a week straight after the fact, eternally underfoot. Always trying to curry favour. Eager to please.Â
Her worship leaves him unbalanced. Unstable even. A train careening off its track, the massive weight of catastrophe right behind it. The sense that life will never be the same after this. His surface level indifference is underscored by steeled self-control. He keeps his arms on the couch because he knows the second he puts them on her, itâs over. Thereâll be no holding him back anymore, no possibility of him ever letting her go back out into the real world. Lock jawed, teeth sunk into her tender underbelly.Â
âTold you, you donât owe me nothing,â Simon murmurs, curling his hands under her ass.Â
âThenâthenâŚâI donât know, pretend itâs just for me.â Itâs a joke because they both know itâs not just for her. When her eyes sparkle with amusement, his cock throbs.
He lets her ruck the shirt over his head and struggle with his belt until she manages to unbuckle it like he has no say in the matter. Sheâs far less considerate with her own clothes, shucking them off and nearly ripping her knickers in the process, which almost prompts him to take her by the wrists and slow her down. He likes the lace and frills.Â
Itâs a fight to fit his cock into her hole, as slick as she is. Coin slot tight; he almost breaks and tells her to take it easy when she reaches behind her to line his shaft up with her entrance and sits down, just barely stretching around the mushroomed head of his dick before wincing, tears springing into her eyes.Â
Simon does break when she tries to sink down another inch, thighs shaking violently. âRight, get offâyou ainât ready for this.â
âI am!â she insists, face screwed up in a scowl and a bead of sweat dripping down her temple. âJustâI can do it, Simonââ
âNo, you canât. Youâre rushing and hurting yourselfââ
âWait, okay, wait, I canâŚjust give me a minute, okay?â she begs, and he doesnât tell her that heâd give her all the time in the world. Stay on this couch until the flesh fell off his bones. Heâs waited so long; whatâs a little longer?Â
Besides, the sight of her stretching herself out with her fingers is reward enough. She whines into his shoulder and shudders when she has to force another finger in before sheâs ready. Too eager. It could give a man a complex. His blood is already scorching him from the inside out, too hot for his veins. Â
He considers helping her out, but watching her writhe and struggle in his lap is far more enjoyable.Â
He stopped paying attention awhile back, too focused on cupping her tits and running his tongue around the budded areola, sucking her pert nipple into his mouth, but she couldnât have gotten to more than three fingers before running out of patience and lining him up again. This time, she sinks a bit deeper on the first stroke, still choking on her breath but forcing herself to take a bit more.Â
âYouâre alrightâyouâre alright,â Simon murmurs, stroking a hand up and down her back while she impales herself on his length. Sheâs still too tight to take him comfortably, sweats and shakes over him. He pinches her nipple to distract her from the pain and smiles when she yelps.Â
She melts all over him, slick drenching his shaft and lap, her tongue lapping at the sweaty skin of his neck. Honeysuckle fragrant; the sweetest thing heâs ever known. Silken, tight. Fits like a glove around him.Â
He could lose himself in her. Piston into her until the thought of where he begins and where he ends dissolves into the tight warmth between her legs.
His bird is a greedy girl. She uses him like a toy to get herself off, bouncing in his lap and mewling into his ear everytime his cockhead nudges against her cervix. Too big to fit all the way in.Â
âYou do this a lot, pet? Fuck every man that lends you a hand?â he pants, taunting her.
âNo!â she snarls in his ear, feisty and sharp-toothed. Her nails dig into his back, scoring white lines into his skin. The shiver that wracks him is so violent that his arms tighten around her waist reflexively, making her gasp.Â
It doesnât matter whether she does this often or not; the only thing that matters is that heâs the only man that gets to fuck her from here on out. Still, winding her up is half the fun.Â
âPerfect girl,â Simon chuckles, breathless. âMade for me. Got mâself a pet right off the street.â
And he did, didnât he? Went wandering out into the night and came home with a bird fluttering her wet little wings.Â
His conscience is clean. He couldâve tied her down, kept her right where he wanted her (in his bed, his flat, the yawning cavity of his chestâ) but his self-control remains unparalleled. Tough as nails. Strong as steel. And now look at what he has as a reward for his patienceâa fever-hot cunt around his cock and delicate fingernails scratching the base of his skull.Â
A pretty bird thatâs made his chest a cage.Â
The world goes vertical, horizontal. Fluid; sliding away from him. Something crashes in the background, so far off in the distance that he can hardly make out the sound.Â
He opens his eyes to find the ceiling staring back down at him, and then her face, hovering over him on the carpeted floor, her hands kneading the muscle of his chest. Her brows are drawn tight now, pinched. She stares down at him, past him, gaze like a transparent veil.Â
âGiâmeâŚgiâmeâŚâ she pants, barely able to pull herself off his cock.Â
He has to dig his fingers into her ass and pull her off, ignoring the way she whines and begs him to fill her back up. Ignores it because he knows whatâs best for her; knows how to take care of what he owns.Â
When he bucks up into her, she chokes, fingers nearly yanking his chest hair out.Â
âFuckinâ hell, thatâs pretty,â he breathes. Snaps his hips up into hers again, relishing in the way she squeezes tight around him, almost to the point of pain.Â
His pleasure always comes jagged though. Whether the ache of his joints or nails tearing up the skin of his back and chest. Vicious and messyâhow he likes it. She gives him everything he could want and more. The hand dug into his chest right above his heart could pierce right through the flesh and tear it out.
He pulls her all the way off his cock just for the pleasure of hearing her beg him again, then pulls her up his chest and eats her out until the beast in his belly calms down.Â
He yields to her whining only after a good few minutes. Soft bastard. Drags her back down until her soaked hole mouths at the head of his cock and he thrusts back up inside. Home. Itâs his now, whether she likes it or not. Simon guesses heâs lucky that she wants it too; if he had to convince her, he would, but her desperation is just another gift for him to savour.Â
âSqueeze me good, bird. Say thank youââ thank you for taking me home, thank you for keeping meâ almost spills off his tongue, but he reigns it in. She knows what to be thankful for.Â
âNngh, Simon,â she sings, fucking herself on his cock. The sweetest sound heâs ever heard.Â
Simonâs never felt bigger than under his sweet bird. Thighs spread so wide around him that he knows sheâll ache in the morning. Brutish hands groping her thighs and waist and tits, rough against the softness of her skin. Stuffed full of a big cock, not even to the root; she bites right through her bottom lip when Simon pets at the thin skin stretched around his cock, her gaze wounded, overwhelmed.Â
Nearly blacks out at the thought of cramming a finger up there too. Only faint concern for her well-being tamps down the urge.Â
âCome on, fuckâthat good, pet?â
âR-right there, oh god, ohgodohgodââ
He lets her ride him until she comes, until he comes, until his spend is blistering hot in her cunt, drooling down the length of his cock, frothy white with her cream and his come.Â
Itâs a sight to look at. Gets him right in the chest. Nothing like times of yore; this is something with meaning, with feeling. When he lifts her off, his seed trickles out of her soft hole in white globs and makes his chest ache. It doesnât matter whether it takes root or not. All that he needs is already here.Â
Beautiful and rare as a sundog; haloed by light. All this time, he dared not think this could be it.Â
He thinks heâll love her with the same ferocity Icarus had on his descent.
She shivers when he traces his fingers up her spine. âNâmore. Mâtired.â
âWasnât gonna, pet.â
The bedroom then. She twitches in his arms when Simon carries her to bed and pats his chest approvingly when he slides in beside her.Â
He couldâve told her that itâd end up this way. He smiles indulgently when she shifts and splays over his chest, her nose nudging his nipple. Already fast asleep.Â
In the morning, you sit across from him, half a grapefruit in a bowl in front of you and a mug of coffee, black.Â
âI think I want to go back to school,â you say, apropos of nothing. The spoon clinks against the inside of the bowl.Â
âYeah?â he says, only half-listening.Â
âI can always get a part time job on the days when I donât have class. I never liked my old job anyway.â
âDo whatever you want,â Simon grunts. âNot my problem.â
Under the table, your catâs tail curls around your ankle while he waits for you to sneak him the scraps.Â
You smile.
#ceil writing#cod mw2#cod x reader#simon ghost riley#ghost/reader#ghost x reader#simon ghost x reader#simon riley/reader#simon riley x you
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Soap x reader x Ghost
( or just Johnny with anyone) he has oral fixation. Doesn't matter it's a cunt oflr a cock, tit or peck, fingers? Anything he can in anytime anywhere.
He might be sucking on his hoodie string if he's out of gums and idle, but in sex? He gets his partner(s) marked with hickeys and bites.
He's the one randomly biting his partner(s) during the day
if I could reach through the screen and kiss your cheek I would jesus christ
CW: Fem!Reader, Johnny has an oral fixation<3, ambiguous on the relationship dynamic - up to your interpretation, no condom, wrap it before you tap it, Johnny x Reader x Simon
Johnny likes to keep his mouth busy - when he isnât talking heâs got something between his lips. I feel like Johnny was a notorious nail biter growing up. his mother definitely tried to make him stop but eventually gave up because he just kept doing it. he doesnât bite his nails as much as an adult, but every once in a while heâll chew and bite off the edge of his nails
Johnny has a thing for wearing hoodies. theyâre big, warm, comfortable, and the laces for the hood are nice to chew on. he tends to wear black ones to the gym so you canât tell the laces are coated in spit and drool as easily. heâs definitely borrowed a hoodie from Simon briefly only to return it with spit soaked laces. Simon didnât even bat an eye, just shrugged it off and put it on. sometimes Simon gets a hoodie back and the sleeve cuffs have been chewed and slobbered on, but that never deters him from lending Johnny his clothes
Johnny will absentmindedly suck on your fingers while youâre lounging. when youâre cuddled together his mouth is latching onto you, anything his mouth can reach. he doesnât even notice, eyes glued to tv as he uses your index and middle fingers as a pacifier, gently sucking on them and coating them in his warm saliva. heâs so comfortable against you when he does it, eyes half lidded and body limp - he doesnât even register how heâs got your fingers down to the knuckle resting on his tongue
Simonâs neck is littered with hickeys, easily hidden behind his balaclava. Johnny canât help himself, tucked against Simonâs side as he mouths at his throat. itâs nice, Simonâs got his arms around his waist - a nice, secure hold. his brain gets to turn off while he dumbly sucks on his skin, red marks blooming against Simonâs neck and shoulders. it soothes Johnny, lets his mind go somewhere else while he sucks another hickey against Simonâs neck, shifting closer with a small whine caught in his throat
Johnnyâs mouth is all yours to use, heâs begged for you to use it before. sometimes sucking and gnawing on items and clothes isnât enough for him, he needs you. you canât be upset with Johnny, not when heâs buried his head between your legs, lazily sucking on your clit. heâs solely focused on working his mouth, not aware of his stiff cock straining against his pants. heâs got your hips pushed down, ready to eat you out until heâs done. deaf to your whines and pleas, heâs moaning against your cunt as his eyes flutter shut
Johnny whoâs kneeling on the floor, idly sucking on Simonâs fat cock. heâs got a rugby match on the tv, one hand in Johnnyâs hair, the other cradling a beer bottle. Johnnyâs more than content where he is, nose to Simonâs pelvis, jaw slack as he breathes out through his nose. the weight of his cock on Johnnyâs tongue is so good, and Simonâs being nice - hips still and petting him, rough hand gently scratching at his scalp. Simon only thrusts a little when Johnny starts to nod off, eyes drooping shut and drool trailing down his chin
Johnnyâs favorite thing? having to sit still, whining as he watches Simon mercilessly fuck you. Simon told him to be good, gave him two commands. âOpen.â, Johnny was so eager to begin with, thought Simon was going to fuck his face, turn his brain to mush. he was wrong, but equally excited when Simon guided a dildo into his mouth, âSuck, Johnny.â. his heartbeat was rapid, ringing in his ears, whining as he did what he was told. Simon murmured a quick âgood boyâ, leaving Johnny to watch as he filled you. maybe it was mean, but it was doing something to the poor man, especially when he saw a trickle of white bead out of your slit
Simon knew what he was doing, had a plan going into this. watching you writhe beneath him, head dipping down to mark your neck up - leaving his own hickeys to match Johnnyâs. he knows Johnnyâs watching, the way his cock stretches you out, bullies itâs way in and out of you. absolutely filthy, his hips stuttering before heâs spilling into you. just a couple times, he forces his hips to buck again, fucking his cum into you, warmth spreading in your tummy as you cry out. Simon can hear the wet sucking behind him, doesnât have to look to know Johnny has that dildo down his throat, eyes glossy and chin slick
Simonâs nice, lazily pulls out of you after his third orgasm. despite his exhaustion, the overstimulation he feels, he gets up. Johnny canât help but whine when Simon slowly pulls the dildo from his mouth, teary eyes looking up at the Brit. his desperation is sated though, excitement coursing through his veins as Simon gently grabs his chin. âGood mutt.â, voice hoarse, Simon smiles down at him, âGo clean your toy up, yeah?â. Simon takes Johnnyâs place, sitting down. dark brown eyes watching as Johnny settles between your legs, head dipping down to lap at your cunt as you hiccup
#so I saw the visionâŚ#erm#ghoap to soothe the soul#ghoap#ghost#simon ghost riley#simon riley#ghost cod#ghost call of duty#ghost headcanons#ghost x you#ghost x reader#simon riley x you#simon riley x reader#soap#john soap mactavish#john mactavish#soap cod#soap call of duty#soap headcanons#soap x reader#soap x you#john mactavish x you#john mactavish x reader#cod smut#cod#cod thoughts#call of duty#hit post
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tee you know what would he so funny and i keep thinking about? is if you were seen with one of the blue lock menâs friends or teammates, and then thereâs a picture on the news like ây/n cheating on ___?â đ idk i just giggle into my hand at the idea
⊠â§âË âŠăBLUE LOCK + RUMORS THAT YOUâRE DATING SOMEBODY ELSE
⊠â characters ⎠itoshi sae, mikage reo, shidou ryusei ⊠â contents ⎠fluff, gn! reader, established relationships, rather pouty and salty boys <3 ⊠â notes ⎠nauurr this is actually so cute so i decided to turn them into kind of short drabbles w a few boys <3
⊠â§âË âŠăITOSHI SAE.
sae stares at his screen and blinks. you fight back a grin as he rereads the title, trying not to let out a small giggle.
âitoshi sae bested by little brother in love,â he reads blankly, and you almost think he doesnât care if not for the way his hand clutches his phone a little tighter.
âsae, itâs not our fault, okay?â you chuckle, shuffling closer on the bed, wrapping yourself around him, âthe paparazzi just caught us off guard. you know how they twist things for the headlines.â he does knowâbut still, he eyes you from the side before scrolling along the article and staring at more pictures of you and rin walking out of the convenience store.
âyou went with rin? really?â he grumbles, eyeing a picture of you both laughing as you walk out the store. why is it so easy for rin to laugh at your jokes? more importantly, why is it so easy for you to laugh at his?
âwell technically you were supposed to go with me, but you were being grumpy,â you huff, looking at him with raised brows.
itâs rare for both the brothers to be at their old childhood home at the same time, they never really get vacations that overlap enough to visit their parents togetherâand itâs never really been a priority for either of them with such anâŚestranged relationship. but this yearâs a rare stroke of luck, and saeâs mother insists he brings you along with him for the âfull family effect.â
except he rarely leaves the room if not to go for his jog or the gymâand youâre tired of being cooped up indoors all day. so when he opts for staying in to rewatch a match when you practically beg him to go to the convenience store around the corner with you, and rin so graciously offers to walk with you to grab a few things himselfâhow could you decline?
âi wasnât being grumpy,â he says bitterly, âi was busy. itâs different.â
âwell, me and rin had a blast,â you tease, pointing at the pictures on his phone, âas you can see.â
âshut up,â he scowls, locking his phone and crossing his arms. itâs cute to see him like thisâslightly jealous and petulant as he tries to shrug it off like he doesnât care. you giggle, leaning to peck his cheek.
âso? how does it feel to have your brother steal the love of your life?â
âi donât know,â he rolls his eyes, âseems to me like you came crawling right back to me in the end.â
ânot taking it well, huh,â you say amusedâand finally, he wraps a loose arm around your figure as you sprawl yourself on his chest, leaning up to kiss his jaw. âyou know how you can win me back over? taking me to the store next time i ask.â
âoh trust me,â he says with a sour look on his face, making you snort as you poke his nose, âyouâre not walking past that door without me next time.â
⊠â§âË âŠăMIKAGE REO.
reo is distraught.
âlook at these comments,â he cries, shoving his phone in your face.
âreo,â you try to fight back a giggle, reaching over to ruffle his hair affectionately as you try to soothe his crisis, âitâll blow over, donât worry. me and nagi were just getting snacks.â
âyeah but theyâre completely trashing me,â he whines, eyes all but popping out of his sockets as he reads the comments on the twitter post, ââyou know youâre lame when even your money isnât enough to keep someone?â what does that even mean?â
âit means youâre losing your charm,â you tease, cackling when he throws you a soft glare from his spot on the couch. heâs scooches away from you, sitting on the opposite end as he holds up a hand.
âyou stay on your half,â he huffs, âi donât want to sit with a cheater.â
âi didnât cheat!â you snort, âwe went to get snacks for you tooââ
âyeah and you forgot them,â he glares.
âi said sorry!â
âwell, it doesnât help,â he pouts as he turns back to his phone, glaring at his screen as he reads the way some of the comments are now claiming you and nagi are a cute couple. it makes his brows furrow as a vein all but pops in his forehead, making you bite your lip so as not to laugh and hurt your boyfriendâs already painfully bruised ego.
âbaby, you know youâre the only guy for me,â you grin, shuffling over to his side of the couch, giggling as you cling to him while he tries to (gently) shove you off.
âi donât know,â he grumbles, âclearly iâm not since you havenât even defended me in these comments.â
âiâll make sure to tell them your money still has all the appeal,â you grin, earning a sharp look from him as you throw your head back and laugh. âiâm kidding.â
âyouâre not,â he mumbles, crossing his arms. he looks cute like thisâmakes your heart soar as you lean closer and cup his cheeks and press soft kisses along his face. and even as he tries to fight it, he canât help but smile a little and lean into your touch.
âiâll make sure to defend your honor in the comments,â you murmur, biting his cheek playfully. he turns, leans in for a peck to the lips as he sighs.
âyou better,â he mutters, âthese people are ruthless.â
⊠â§âË âŠăSHIDOU RYUSEI.
shidou is a nightmare if youâve ever met oneâmakes your life increasingly difficult because how dare someone write an article that hints that whatâs his could be anyone elseâs?
âwhat do you want for dinner?â you ask, sighing as he shrugs.
âoh, i donât know,â he grins condescendingly, âwhy donât you let your other boyfriend decide?â
âryuseiââ
âif i see him, heâs gonna be one with the concrete, iâll tell you that.â
âdonât even think about getting into trouble. thatâs your teammate,â you pinch your nose, trying to be the one and only voice of reason there evidently is, âwe just saw each other at the store and said hiââ
âwhy did he need to say hi?â he growls, crossing his arms as he stares at his screen again, eyeing the title of the article thatâs single handedly spoiled your afternoon with a moody boyfriend in your hands. âi should teach him a lessonââ
âyou should do no such thingââ
âyou know what? i donât even care,â he says suddenly, and thereâs too much of a wicked grin on his face for you to feel at ease about his sudden turn of mood.
âryusei.â your voice comes out as a warning, but he pays it mind.
âyeah, babe?â he says sweetly, scrolling through his phone and making your stomach churn as you walk over.
âwhat are youââ and then thereâs a buzz of your phone, cutting you off as you hesitantly glance at it in your hand, noticing the mention you have from him. âwhat did you do?â you narrow your eyes.
ânothing,â he shrugs, âjust cleared the air.â
and if you were unsettled before, youâre certainly concerned now because shidou ryusei taking matters into his own hands can only mean a headache for you and serious damage control for his team. you groan, rubbing your temple as you prepare yourself for the worst case scenario.
âwhat could you possiblyâare you kidding me, ryusei? are you out of your mind?â you stare at the picture heâs posted, one of him practically sucking your face off in the middle of god knows whereâwhen did he even get this picture? and who took it? but as quickly as the questions pop into your head, you decide just as fast that you donât even want to know.
âthatâll teach âem,â he grins darkly, and he has the audacity to look proud of himself, earning himself a harsh glare from you. he only snickers, grabs you by the wrist and tugs you onto his lap on the couch. âwanna recreate the picture?â he grins widely.
âno i want to delete the picture,â you grumble.
ânot an option,â he says smugly, and then his lips are on yoursâand even if heâs shaved ten years off your life, you think itâs at least a good thing that heâs back to his usual self.
i want to have a lil salty sae in my bed immediately.
#teepods.writings#hcs.#sae x reader#sae x you#sae fluff#reo x reader#reo x you#reo fluff#shidou x reader#shidou x you#shidou fluff#blue lock x reader#blue lock x you#blue lock fluff#bllk x reader#bllk x you#bllk fluff#itoshi sae x reader#itoshi sae x you#itoshi sae fluff#mikage reo x reader#mikage reo x you#mikage reo fluff#shidou ryusei x reader#shidou ryusei x you#shidou ryusei fluff
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alone.
i wrote this in maybe a half hour and it's very short but i was very in my feels so you get angsty sol as a result before the events of family line. sol struggles. there is change on the horizon, but she doesn't see it.
-----
It was the same every morning, the same every day. A quick knock would wake you, a second knock a few minutes later telling you it was time to get up. Youâd throw on clothes that didnât quite fit with Spainâs climate, tie your hair up in a bun, and go downstairs.Â
Breakfast was always quiet, ever since the first few weeks, when Ingrid had tried to engage you in conversation and you rejected every attempt. Sheâd ask you a question that would remind you how little she knew about your life now. Youâd snap back at her unintentionally, sheâd get angry, and the table would fall quiet. Eventually, it just stayed quiet.Â
Youâd go to school, barely understand a word spoken to you. Scrape by with passable grades, most of the time. Go back to Ingridâs house. Do your school work at the kitchen table, where she could keep an eye on you. Hide in your room until dinner. Hide in your room after dinner. Distract yourself with a mindless show, or more often, a nature documentary of some kind. Fall asleep, dream of lakes and forests and grass and mountains; things that could never be disappointed in you.Â
You went through the motions. Step by step, day after day. Not really living, just existing. Not trying, either.Â
Youâd stop trying a long time ago. Long before Spain, before the small, bland extra bedroom you slept in. Before disappointed looks had begun to come from your sister. Youâd stopped trying when you were still in Norway, still disappointing your parents.Â
Back in Norway, you felt content being mostly invisible. Your parents ignoring you was better than being yelled at, though they still did that a fair amount.There was something about being here, though, in Spain that was just⌠different.Â
Perhaps it was that part of you, little you, who still remembered Ingrid as someone who gave the best hugs and always knew how to make you smile. Little you hadnât ever had much hope in her parents, but sheâd had hope in Ingrid. That part of you clung to the idea that Ingrid could still make everything better, like she had when you were small. No matter how hard you tried, you couldnât let go of that hope.Â
It crushed you, time and time again, when Ingrid yelled at you, or frowned at a bad grade, or sent you to your room for being a few minutes past curfew, without even letting you explain why youâd been late [thereâd been a turtle in the road on your walk from the climbing gym, and it had taken 5 minutes you didnât have to make sure it got across safely]. When sheâd sigh after another weekend passed, and you remained locked in your room. When sheâd tell you to just try harder. At speaking Spanish, at making friends, at school.Â
You didnât have anything left to give. All of your energy was spent dragging yourself out of bed. Why couldnât she see that? Growing up, it had felt like Ingrid had been the only one to see you. Now, though, she was just like everyone else. She saw what your parents saw, you decided. Someone who just wasnât worth it.Â
Ingrid had always loved you. Even when it was hard to believe that your parents did, Ingrid always told you she loved you. She hadnât said it in a while, though. You hadnât heard from your Mamma in weeks, the last text youâd gotten from your Pappa had been scolding you for spending too much money. [Youâd bought Ingrid a birthday present, but he made you return it before you could give it to her].Â
Maybe you just werenât someone who could be loved. You rolled onto your side, covering your ears to block out the sound of Ingridâs loud laughter at something Mapi had said. Tears dripped off your face, and you wished you were 7 again, burying your face in your sisterâs shoulder and knowing that as long as she had you, youâd be okay. That was back when she loved you, though. You were pretty sure she didnât anymore. How could she? When all you did was screw up, who could love someone like you?Â
You werenât 7 anymore, you were 17, and you were all alone. In a house hundreds of miles away from home, with your sister who you felt like you barely knew anymore. All alone. You were beginning to think that was all youâd ever be. Alone.Â
You didnât know a lot of things, though. You didnât know about the book shoved under Ingridâs pillow, about troubled teens. You didnât know that sheâd stand in your doorway sometimes, just watching you sleep. Enjoying that, at least while resting, you didnât frown.Â
You didnât know your Pappa picked up the phone often, but never called, feeling like heâd created a gap he wasnât sure he could ever fix. Didnât know that sometimes your Mamma slept in your bed, remembering the small child that had once smelled of syrup and brought her flowers from the garden.Â
You didnât know that Mapi stayed up late at night, duolingo open on her phone, hoping that maybe speaking a language you understood would make you feel more at home.Â
You didnât know that Ingrid loved you more than her heart could take, sometimes, and that she was just doing what she thought would work. She didnât realize you didnât need discipline, that you just needed a support system.Â
Things would improve, but you didnât know that. As you sobbed into your pillow, you were pretty sure youâd always feel like this; unloved and completely alone.Â
#woso imagine#woso x reader#engen!reader#ingrid engen x platonic reader#ingrid engen x reader#mapi leon x reader#mapi leon x platonic reader#mapi leon x ingrid engen#woso one shot#woso fanfics
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NFWMB - part 2
Summary: âY/Nâs first self defense class leads to some inevitable tension, all of which is thrown out of Y/Nâs mind when she gets an unexpected visit at her office deskâŚâ
Wc: 4.8k
Tropes: boxer!Harry x innocent!reader
Warnings: sexual TENSIONđ, brief mention of SA, blood
A/N: hi everyone! I am so positively overwhelmed by the great response this new series has been gettingđĽš. I have such a good feeling about this and I hope youâll appreciate this little adventure weâre going onđ. Xxx
P.S. I would also recommend listening to âKnucklesâ by the Snuts. Not only because itâs a great song, but along with NFWMB, itâs kinda the theme song of this seriesđ¤.
General Masterlist
Series Masterlist
It was 8:55pm.
Harry had never been so fixated on time before. It was like his brain was counting down each second, even when he was trying to concentrate on quite literally anything else.
All weekend he had been wondering whether or not Y/N would show up tonight. Even though he had other things to do, and plenty of more urgent matters occupying his mind, the thought of her still managed to take up some space.
He hadn't heard from her. Not that it was technically possible; he didn't give him any contact information. God, why was he sweating this so much?
8:59pm.
The gym was entirely empty. He always closed early on Tuesdays. The rest of the week he stays open until 12am. There are more people who go to the gym late at night than he thought, but since he needed to cut himself some slack, he decided to use Tuesdays for that.
Not that he really cut himself some slack. He'd stay and do his own exercises, then stay longer to work on administration. He would eventually go home at around 11pm. Greg scolded him for it, demanding he take some time for himself, but that seemed to be impossible for Harry.
He loved this. He loved helping people and the shitty administrative stuff was nothing in comparison to the smiles he would see on people's faces upon leaving the gym. Whether that was one of the women in his defense classes, or a man who'd reached his new weightlifting goal. He loved seeing people happy.
9:04pm.
A wave of disappointment flooded through Harry's body. He didn't even know why he thought she'd come. It's not like he gave any indication that she wanted to. She actually told him, outright, that she didn't. He needed to check himself into a mental hospital or something... occupying himself so much with a girl he met once. He needed some sort of reality check.
The sound of the reception bell tore Harry from his thoughts, his head shooting towards the hallway where the sound was coming from. His feet began to move before he could even comprehend, and when he turned around the corner, a small sigh left his mouth.
Shit. There she was. Wearing baggy sweatpants and an oversized Rolling Stones t-shirt. Her hair was up in a ponytail, much like it had been the last time he saw her. It still looked different, though, as if she had put in more effort this time. There were no stray hairs, and the ponytail was braided. Her eyes were as big as ever, and he could've sworn they gleamed a bit when they landed on him.
Angel.
"Hi." She smiled shyly, adjusting the strap of her duffel bag that slung around her shoulder. The corner of Harry's mouth tugged up.
"Hi."
She didn't say anything, just stared at him and waited for him to continue talking. Harry, however, was too busy with looking at her that he forgot he should probably say something. It's why it took him a little longer to say:
"C'mon, let's go to the other room."
He waited for her to pace towards him before he turned around and walked to the training room. He tried, he truly did, to stay casual and just keep walking, but he couldn't help it. His head turnedâjust to check, he said to himselfâto see the beautiful woman still walking behind him. She really was here.
Having entered the training room, Harry walked onto the mat, Y/N following him closely. He turned around and gestured for her to put her bag on the ground. She did as instructed, and stood back in front of him. He noticed her posture, the way it was extra straight. She was compensating for the insecurity that displayed in the way she fiddled with her fingers behind her back. She probably thought he didn't notice, but there were mirrors all around the room, so he could see every single part of her.
Harry titled his head downwards and looked at her. He was only realizing it now; the height difference between them. He had seen it last week, but now that he was standing close to her, it was more prominent.
"I want to say beforehand, that during these classes I will have to touch you." He said softly, his voice still in that low baritone. Y/N's lips slowly parted, but no words came out. "Is that okay with you?"
From the way her cheeks flushed after vigorously nodding her head, he could tell she had found her quick agreement to be a bit embarrassing. Harry only smiled.
"Words, please, Y/N."
"Yâyes," She quickly answered, and Harry opened his mouth to communicate his approval, but the continuation of her consent caught him off guard. "You can touch me."
His heartbeat began to pick up a bit, blood rushing towards parts that it should definitely not be rushing to. He clenched his jaw and balled up his fists, hoping the tension in the other parts of his body would refrain his cock from straining too hard against his pants.
Jesus, what was wrong with him? Why was he acting like he just got out of prison?
"Let's warm up." He said gruffly, sounding more moody than he wanted to. Y/N nodded, looking at her feet as she took a step backwards. She waited as Harry walked to the bench to get jump rope. When he walked back and handed it to her, her eyebrows knitted in confusion.
"It's to get your heart rate up. It'll have you ready for the exercises."
"Okay." She took the rope from his hands and got ready, but never started the exercise.
"What's wrong?" Harry asked. Her eyes went all big like it did in that first class.
"Ohâ no, nothing. I was waiting for you. I don't know why... you're the instructor, of course." She was rambling again, shutting her eyes tightly for a few seconds after closing her mouth. Harry bit his lip to keep himself from chuckling at the woman in front of him.
"You know what, you're right, I'll join you. I haven't done my exercises today anyway." He said as he grabbed another rope. It was a big fat lie; he had trained for a good two hours today. But these exercises were harmless fun, and if it would make her feel more comfortable, he'd do it in a heartbeat.
"Would you like some music? I always prefer it because it tends to get kind of quiet in here. But we don't have to. It's really a personal preference." Harry explained, holding up his phone. A small smile appeared on Y/N's face.
"Uhm, yeah, that would be great. What do you usually listen to?"
Harry shrugged. "Uhm, rap usually."
Y/N hummed. Harry squinted his eyes at the woman in front of him, then raised a brow.
"You don't like that, do you?"
"What? No! I don't care, really. You can put on whatever you want." She was quick to defend herself. She wasn't exactly lying. Y/N didn't care, she wouldn't dream of opposing the man in front of her.
"What do you usually listen to?"
"Uhm, I like older music." You confessed. Harry tilted his head.
"Yeah? What kind?"
"Jazz, Soul, classic rock, a bit of hard rock, disco."
Harry nodded, and looked down at his phone to type in something. Y/N frownedâprobably wondering what he was doingâbut a giggle escaped her as 'Let's Hear It For The Boy' started playing through the speakers. Harry's eyes twinkled as he took in the sight of her. He couldn't help but smile pridefully, knowing he made her laugh like that. It felt like an accomplishment.
"Okay, let's begin."
And so, Harry and Y/N began jumping with the jump rope next to each other. He told her to count until fifty out loud, and she obeyed him. By the time they were done, Y/N's heavy breathing made her realize that her physical shape had gotten a lot worse since moving out. She always used to run back when she lived with her parents, she told Harry, but she hadn't found time for it since she'd moved.
They did a couple other warm-up exercises together, and when stretching the final time, Harry dared to comment.
"You're pretty flexible."
Y/N looked up, shrugging at her instructor. "I was a cheerleader back in high school, and I used to do a lot of yoga in college. Maybe it stuck."
"Yeah, probably." Harry nodded, admiring the woman in front of him. She talked so casually about herself. She was actually impressively flexible; it's why he noted it in the first place. She was taking herself for granted, he could tell.
"Okay, let's start, shall we?" Harry said, getting up to his feet. Y/N silently nodded as she followed in his footsteps. "I'm going to teach you some basic things, but I also want to ask you if there are some specific exercises you would like to focus on. If so, we can start by handling those after having learned the basics, okay?"
"Okay." Y/N said, taking a deep breath.
"You can think about it, and tell me next time." Harry added, and as The Jackson 5's ABC began to play, the real exercises started.
Y/N listened intently as he explained her the basic things about throwing a punch. Balance was the most important thing, Harry had said. She followed his instructions closely and stood with her feet shoulder-with apart, her right footâthe dominant one, he told her it had to beâslightly ahead of her left one.
"Good." Harry's sound of approval had awakened something in your stomach. "Now clench your fistâ you have to wrap your thumb around your index and middle fingers. Otherwise you'll break your thumb."
Y/N did as he said, keeping her wrist straight. Her stomach dropped as he let out a disapproving hum. He went to stand beside her as he lowly said:
"Bend your knees."
As soon as the words had left his mouth, Y/N bent her knees a bit. From all the nervousness she kept stretching her limbs all the time, going against his order. Seeing her answer to him so quickly had made him smirk a bit.
"Good."
He didn't miss the deep breath Y/N took as he spoke. She desperately wanted his approval. It was endearing... and other things that it shouldn't be. Harry mentally slapped himself in the face. This was a professional environment, why were his thoughts racing the same way they used to back when he was a teenager? It was pathetic, really.
"Now, when you punch someone, it's important to put your entire body into it. If you punch without moving the rest of your body, it won't have as much of an impact. You have to generate the power from your core and legs. That way, the blow will land way harder." He explained, trying not to smile at Y/N's faint frown as she took in all the he was saying. She was so concentrated, wanting to absorb every piece of information he shared. "Like this."
He showed her what he meant. Y/N nodded and tried to imitate her instructor, but without much luck.
"You don't have to lean forward that much. If you turn with your entire body, it'll do that for you." He said, and had to fight the small grin that threatened to form on his lips when she tried to hold herself back too much this time. She huffed in annoyance.
"How am I ever going to be able to defend myself again if I can't even get a punch right?" She murmured, mainly to herself, as she pinched the bridge between her nose. Harry's ears perked up at what she said.
What did she mean with 'again'? Rage started simmering in his body at the sole implication of someone having done something to this woman that made her have to defend herself. Is that why she was so interested in the class? Why she wanted to learn so bad despite being so shy? Because someone had hurt her, or threatened to, and made her feel unsafe?
"Can I touch you?"
Y/N's gaze shot up to Harry's, keeping them locked for a few seconds before she let out a soft 'yes'. He nodded once, went to stand behind her, and told her to get back into position. As soon as she had, he grabbed her hips. Firm, but light.
"Do it again, slowly."
Y/N did as he said, and let him help her move her body in the right way. Automatically, her foot stayed in the right position, and she wasn't really leaning forward anymore.
"That's it." Harry said proudly. He was kind of caught off guard when Y/N sucked in a breath and turned around, his hands falling off her hips immediately. For a second, he felt bad, not having wanted to make her feel uncomfortable in any way, but when he saw her swallow, biting her lip, he knew that his touch had caused something else.
Fuck. He was definitely better off not knowing.
"Iâ Can I drink some water?" Y/N asked, almost sounding like she was out of breath. Harry did his best not to let it get to his head too much as he nodded, biting inside of his cheek. She scurried over to her bag, and took out a water bottle, of which she probably gulped half down before she set it down on the bench.
"Okay, c'mon. We have a lot to cover." Harry said when he felt she was lingering by the bench too much. She immediately walked back to him, and there was sense of pride that filled Harry's chest. Such a good listener, she was.
Y/N was exhausted. Her first self defense class was finally over, and it was a lot harder than she thought it'd be. They went over the basics of punching, and Harry had decided that she definitely needed to build some muscle. In the end, they practiced half an hour longer than the original hour Y/N thought the class was going to be. The regular classes were sixty minutes, so she'd just assumed.
It was also unbearable. She couldn't believe how worked up she was getting over the proximity between her and Harry. It was embarrassing, she had to be ovulating or something. Of course, it probably also had something to do with the fact that Harry was singlehandedly the most beautiful man she'd ever seen, but she shouldn't have let that distract her from her goal. She needed these classes, she needed not to be weak anymore.
After the class, Harry told her to be here at the same time next week, and she thanked him before walking out of the gym.
Harry probably didn't expect her to still stand outside ten minutes later when he walked out to lock up, but when he noticed the pouring rain, it looked like he understood.
"Did you walk?" He asked casually, locking the door. Y/N shook her head.
"Bike." She pointed to the soaking wet bicycle a few feet away.
"D'you need a ride?" He questioned, stepping towards her. Again, she shook her head.
"It's fine, I'll just wait until this blows over."
As if the universe and the weather were playing a crude joke on her, loud thunder ripped through the sky just as the sentence left her mouth. Harry tilted his head a bit.
"Yeah, no. I'm dropping you off at home." He said, and before she could protest, Harry began to walk away, right into the rain. He stepped into his car and drove over to Y/N, then got out of the car again. As he approached her, he asked:
"Where are the keys to your bike?"
Too stunned to say anything, she just handed him the keys. She was a little occupied with how hot he looked all soaking wet andâ oh Jesus, she needed shock therapy.
She watched as Harry carried the bicycle and out in the trunk of his car. The grey hoodie that he must've thrown on before leaving the gym was a few shades darker now, and strands of his hair clung to his forehead. He made his way to the passenger door, and opened it, a wave of his arm gesturing for her to get in. She ran into the car, the door closing behind her with a harsh thud.
Harry ran around the car and got in himself, closing the door and turning the vehicle on immediately. Y/N's eyes went wide as Harry pulled the hoodie over his head, tugging his t-shirt up a bit along with it. She eyed the tattoos that inked his hip bones. They seemed like... leaves of some kind? She couldn't exactly make it up in such a short time because she shifted her gaze to the car window and strictly kept it there as soon as she'd realized she was staring.
"Where to?" Harry asked, but Y/N only replied with a distracted hum, not daring to take her eyes off the car window. She had never been around someone who'd made her so nervous before. Sure, she'd been awkward a whole bunch in her life, especially around her crushes in high school. But she was 23 now, she shouldn't be behaving like this around men anymore!
"Y/N?" He leaned forward, waving a hand in front of her face. She snapped her head to him.
"Oh, sorry!" She said, her tone revealing how stressed she was.
"It's okay. Just type in your address, and I'll drive you home." Harry answered sweetly. His soft, green eyes made him seem like much less of an intimidating man. That was, until one would look further down his body of course. The man was extremely jacked, and while that was very hot, it could also be quite scary. But she couldn't find any part of herself that was afraid of him.
No, he might've intimidated her, and that might've made her act like an complet fool in front of him, but she wasn't scared of him.
The silence during the car ride was mostly filled up with Harry asking Y/N questions about herself. Where she was from, what she'd studied. She, alike, returned those questions and found out a bit more about Harry's past as well.
The he was a boxer, retired two years ago, and now owned several gyms. Y/N knows she should've been taken aback a bit when she asked Harry's age and he said he was 29, but for some reason it worked the opposite for her.
Was this a topic for therapy?
She hadn't time to think too much of it, as he soon pulled up in front of her apartment complex. They both got out of the car and Harry helped carry her bicycle to a little garage for bikes at the side of the apartment.
They walked back towards the car, both drenched in water by now, and Harry turned around to say goodbye, but Y/N interrupted him.
"What do I owe you?" She asked, not caring that she was standing in the pouring rain and she was shivering from the cold. A sort of didn't want the conversation to end just yet. Harry thought it over for a few seconds, then shrugged.
"Nothing." He said, to which Y/N knitted her brows.
"But I need to pay you for the classes." She stated the obvious, at least she felt like she was.
"It was a try-out class." Harry replied with a smile.
"I already had my try-out class." She reiterated. Harry shook his head.
"That was your group try-out class, this was your private try-out class. Try-outs are always free."
Y/N bit her lip, unsure of what to say to that. Eventually she settled on something in the middle. "Fine. I'll just tip you extra good the upcoming classes."
Harry let out a laugh. "Sure, angel."
She could've sworn that her heart skipped the beat at the sound of that nickname rolling off Harry's tongue. Did he really just call her that? Y/N scanned for answers in Harry's face, and only noticed a slight shock in his eyes, but it was quickly covered up with that casual ease that always seemed to be hanging over him.
"Iâ I'm gonna get inside. Thank you for the ride, and the class."
Harry just gave her a small nod. "Anytime."
With that, Y/N turned around and hurried to her apartment complex, shivering by the time she got inside her own place. Her mind was racing, everything that had happened tonight kept flashing through her brain and it was like she could feel the burn of his fingers on her hips.
This was so unlike her. Unlike anything she'd ever done. Taking this class was a risk, one she'd thought being worth it, because it would bring her safety and security.
But this... these tingling feelings crashing into her like an avalancheâ she hadn't felt like this since college. Hadn't had a crush become so intense in such a short time.
What the hell was she gonna do about this?
All she knew is that she couldn't stop thinking about him. Not as she got in the shower, nor as she got into bed. She kept tossing and turning until she gave into that feeling that had been nagging at her all night, her hand slowly sliding down her belly and to the sensitive ache that had been growing between her legs.
She closed her eyes and didn't even have to try to imagine Harry's hands on her again, the way he'd said those words to her. As if he wanted her to misinterpret them for something dirty.
"Can I touch you?"
"Do it again, slowly."
"That's it."
The sound of his voice ringing through her head had Y/N rubbing her fingers faster over her clit, her legs starting to close from the immense stimulation. Nevertheless, she forced herself to keep them open as she pleasured herself. Small gasps for air began leaving her body as she felt her climax coming closer and closer.
"Sure, angel."
The teasing tone in which he spoke, the playfulness in his eyes and the accent with which he said the nickname, that memory is what made her make a mess all over her fingers. A small moan even left her mouth in the sound of his name, and although no one was there to hear it, Y/N was embarrassed as she went to the bathroom, cleaned herself up, and went back to bed.
She did fall asleep quite quickly after, though. She was exhausted.
The next morning, there was a slight flutter in her stomach and a smile on her face as she opened her eyes. A new reason to get up in the morning had been making its way into her life, and she couldn't feel anything but giddy about it. Having a crush was always fun.
Despite the replaying of yesterday's practice over breakfast, and the heating of her cheeks at the memories of his words in the car on her way to work, Y/N knew that she was playing with fire by letting herself indulge in this crush. She needed to be careful not to let it go too far. A simple crush wasn't a problem, but he was her instructor and if she truly wanted to learn something in those self defense classes, she better separate business and pleasure.
With the loads of work she had to do at work, Y/N managed to drown out most of the thoughts about Harry the rest of the morning. She was finally relaxing after getting some important papers sent overâwhich was a stressful problem, as they had to be sent yesterday but some incompetent idiot messed up, leaving Y/N to solve it by herself first thing in the morningâwhen she got an e-mail from Sophie.
You are invited to
SOPHIE'S 30th BIRTHDAY PARTY
SATURDAY 5 OCTOBER
8:00pm (don't be late!)
Theme: Casino Night
Y/N stared at the invitation on her computer screen, a wide smile covering most of her face. She knew she didn't have any plans, but she still checked her agenda to make sure she was available Saturday next week. She felt like a child who'd just gotten her first ever birthday invitation. It sure felt like that.
Y/N hadn't really had such sweet friends before. Getting along with Sophie had been so incredibly easy and although she always felt like it was too good to be true and there must be some sort of trap, there never was. Sophie just enjoyed Y/N's company, and vice versa. It was like having a big sister and a best friend in one.
About five seconds after silently celebrating having received the invitation, Y/N began to stress about what present she should bring her new friend. It had to be something good. Sophie had earned a lot of money, and could basically get herself anything she wanted, so it had to be more of a sentimental gift.
Y/N had her eyes on a present already. She was very enthusiastic about it; it was something Sophie would really like.
All caught up in the excitement, she didn't notice a tall shadow standing over her until he coughed to get her attention. Y/N looked up, dread filling her stomach as she locked eyes with Oscar. She was still trying to remember how to breathe since her body just shut down out of anxiousness at the sight of him, when he started talking.
"Look, I'll keep this short, because I know you don't want to talk to me," He looked to his left and right before grabbing onto the desk and leaning over it. "but I just want to make sure we're on the same page."
Y/N could do nothing but blink at the man in front of her. What was he talking about, 'same page'?
"Things didn't really go how I thought they would that night, and I've accepted that. But I would appreciate if you wouldn't go around telling people."
"Telling people what?" The words left her mouth before she could stop herself. Originally she didn't want to utter a word in front of this man, nor did she believe she was able to, but this demand of his made her stomach twist. The way he said it, the distaste so apparent on his tongue. As if she were an inconvenience to be dealt with. He'd really mastered that heartlessness that only the cruelest of lawyers could conjure.
"You know what..." He said through clenched teeth, giving her a bit of a warning glare. The anger that boiled within her was new. She had never experienced it in such a large quantity before, and it had her acting out of character.
"What? About you assaulting me?"
The sentence had barely escaped her mouth when Oscar leaped forward a bit, frown so deep that it had made the vein in his forehead extremely prominent. She flinched at the sudden movement, tilting back into her chair. She felt the sped up pace of heartbeat as she clenched her fists, the rest of her body frozen in anticipation of what he was going to do.
"I did not assaultâ" he stopped himself, his crazy eyes calming a bit, as if he realized he was still in the office. "You know what, you can run to whoever you want. This firm trusts me, and they know what kind of man I am, that I would never do such a thing. Either way, itâs most likely not my job you'll be risking by bringing forth such an accusation."
Y/N had no idea what to possibly say to that. Not that Oscar gave her the chance, seeing as he backed away and walked off before she had the chance to come up with something. She began breathing more heavily with every step he took away from her.
Did he just threaten her?
A tingling pain in her hand distracted Y/N from the rabbit hole of thoughts she was just about to fall into, and when her eyes moved to see what it was, she raised her brows at the sight of blood in her hand.
Unconsciously, somewhere in between looking at the invitation and Oscar's impromptu visit, she must've grabbed the pair of scissors that were laying on the desk. She must've balled up her fists so much that she cut her hand.
Staring at the blood, a thousand thoughts running through her head, only one was the loudest.
She needed to get out of here.
Taglist: @meetmeatyourworst @mema10 @seafoamwhispers @namoreno
#harry styles#fanfic#writing#fanfiction#blurb#harry#one direction#smut#one shot#excerpt#harry styles fan fic#harry styles fic#harry styles fanfic#harry styles fanfiction#harry edward styles#harry styles imagine#harry styles one shot#harryedwardstyles#harry fanfic#harry styles drabble#harry styles angst#harry styles writing#harry styles x fem!reader#harry styles x reader
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it's just love
pairings: natasha x reader
word count: 2.5k!
cw: oral (n! recieving), scissoring, internalized homophobia? (nat not knowing who she really is)
From a very young age, you knew you liked girls, you were never interested in talking about boys with your friends. You were awkward around them and didnât know what to say. You once tried kissing a guy to see if you were just sprouting late, never again. You had one or two girlfriends from here and there, but there wasnât much receiving through your giving. Youâd be the one to put all the effort in, to show up and be present, and you were always left hanging. You told yourself when the time was right, youâd find someone.Â
Natasha had an idea of who she was, but growing up where she did, she thought it was wrong. As much as she tried to break through all the KGB ideologies, a few stuck, and unfortunately, the one that would limit her from finding someone to call her own.
She was strict with herself; some may argue that she was too strict, but she didnât like to think so. Having a daily routine made her feel free and able to do what she wanted in the order she made for herself. She had never felt more free, getting out of bed at 6 am to go to the gym, shower, and then attend breakfast. She loved her routines⌠until she didnât.Â
You showed up after a month of you being here, you started working out at the same times as her. She wasnât a fan; she liked you and respected you, but there was something about you that made her feel uncomfortable, like an internal battle. She would often find herself on the treadmill, letting her eyes wander until they grounded on you, whether you were doing curls or crunches or squats, her eyes would be fixated on you. She would realise what she was doing and soon shake herself from her stupor before you noticed. Or so she thought.
You could always feel when Natashaâs eyes were on you. You yearned for it and relished it when your body would slightly heat up from her attention. Right now, Natasha was on the Stairmaster, and you were doing dumbbell squats. You could feel the molten stare of her eyes on you. Before she looked away, you turned to look at her, sending her a wink. Her eyes quickly averted from you to bounce around the room. You smiled, gathering your things and leaving.Â
The next day, Natasha made sure to take the treadmill facing outside the compound. You found it amusing. Little did you know, she watched you through the windowâs reflection.Â
One afternoon, Natasha was sitting in the kitchen doing some work, so you decided to join her. âHey Natasha!â you smile, sitting across from her with your book. She muttered a âhiâ, looking down at her reports. You two sat there for at least an hour or two doing your own thing when Natasha got up packing away her things. âDo you want to go for a walk with me, maybe a coffee?â she asked, looking at you expectantly. âYeah, sure, let me go get my cardiganâ, you smile at her.Â
You two walked and walked and talked and talked. Natasha was telling herself it shouldnât affect her; she was out of that place and shouldnât care. Yet she somewhat found herself caring. âCan I ask you a question?â she asks shyly. âOf courseâ you smile at her. âHow did you.. Like.. when did you know you liked girls?â looking down at her coffee. She almost didnât expect you to answer, yet you did. The question took you off guard a little, until you realised that she was still waiting for you to answer. âI knew when I was little, my friends were going out with boys, yet I wanting to go out with them. I had zero interest in any of the opposite gender and still donât,â you said, looking ahead of you.Â
You knew that it mustâve taken some courage for Natasha to ask you a question like that to keep looking at her; it felt almost cruel, especially when she was asking questions about her sexuality (you figured, anyway). âDidnât any part of you tell you it was wrong?â she asked quietly. You stopped and then turned to look at her, âItâs just love, Natasha. I donât know what you have been told, but love comes in variety, just like everything else. You really neednât worry about what everyone else would say; if you stay true to yourself, youâll find yourself happy, if not, then you will live a sad, miserable life.â you say softly, gently taking hold of her hand, to which she held tighter. âIâm trying to come to terms with it,â she says, looking at you once again. âWhen you do, youâll know where to find meâ, you smile at her.Â
That night, Natasha couldnât sleep; her mind was too loud. She found herself reading poetry of all things, sapphic poetry. She was looking up pictures and watching videos of girlfriends going about their lives all in love with each other, and she found herself wanting that. Over the week, she ventured more and more into the media, absorbing all she could find and educating herself.Â
She was still hesitant, of course she would be, it would take some time to adjust to this ignored and locked away part of herself, yet the more she read into it the more and more freedom she felt. Â
Natasha decided she was going to take you up on that offer, she messages you, âIâll be at your door at 6, be ready.â
When the time rolled around, she was indeed at your door at six sharp, holding a bouquet of flowers. You beamingly thanked her and placed the flowers in a glass on your dresser. Natasha took you on her bike to a nice little restaurant in the city, and then you went to get some ice cream.Â
Over the few weeks, Natasha and you doted on each other, it was nice, happy. You two would work out together, shower, eat breakfast, and then head to the city. You would bring her to the bookstore, where she would find herself looking through Emily Dickinson and Saliva Plath whilst you did your thing. She started to grow quite a collection of books too, thanks to you. She slowly grew to like reading, whenever she had free time, she would have her nose in a book. You two would sit in her or your room and read or sometimes watch a movie. Natasha felt more and more at peace at being in your presence.Â
You guys didnât talk about that conversation you had in the park, you knew she was trying to come to terms with figuring it out, you werenât going to pressure her into talking about it, that had to come from herself alone and unprecedented.Â
Early one morning, you met Natasha in the gym, as usual. She wasnât doing anything though; she was sitting on the benches by the lockers, her hands locked in front of her, looking down at the floor. She heard you come in, and her eyes looked up to meet yours. âAre you okay?â you ask her, coming to sit next to her. She turned to face you, her hands taking yours, intertwining your fingers. âJust let me,â she whispers, looking at you and slightly nodding. Your heart felt as though it jumped into your throat as she inched further and further towards you. First, you felt her lips lightly brush against yours, then you felt her hands holding the back of your head, pressing herself further into you. Your eyes fluttered, your hands moving to hold her arms circling your neck. Her lips were slowly moving against yours, sensually exploring you. You dared to slip your tongue into her mouth, earning a slight whimper in response. You kiss her back, aching to have her in this way, all those looks shes been giving you, made you want her all the more. Her delicate lips work against yours, her own tongue pressing against yours. The kiss turning sloppy as you both try to absorb all each was willing to give.Â
Pulling away, most reluctantly, you whisper âNat.. are you⌠Are you sure, I mean?â taking her face in your hands, thumbs slightly stroking her cheek. âYes, I want to try,â she says, pressing her lips back to you. âTry as in?â you ask against her, holding her hips as she came to situate herself on your lap. âYes,â she whines, her hips lightly rolling against yours.Â
âNatasha, listen to me. Are you sure you want to? I donât want to seem to push you into this.â She looks at you, smiling softly. âI do. Iâve been thinking about it, and I want to,â she says. âYour room or mine?â you ask, standing up and holding her against you. âYours,â she whispers, softly pressing kisses to your heck, her hands wrapping around you.Â
Youâre quick to return to your room, softly depositing her on your bed. The sight of her in your space makes your heart melt. Sheâs quick to pull you down atop her, her arms bracing you against her. You slowly kiss her, trailing your hands up her body. She sighs against you, taking your hands and pushing them onto her chest. âTouch me,â she says hotly in your ear. âI want this. You wonât hurt me,â she continues. Your mouth moves to her neck, softly nipping at the skin, soothing it with your tongue.Â
Her sighs and whines feel like music to your ears. You pull her shirt off, working at the sports bra she also had on. âSo pretty, for me?â your mouth is quick to attach to her nipple, softly stroking your tongue over it, she nods. Your fingers rolled the other nipple, softly pinching it. Her hands scraped through your hair, her hips rising to work against your thigh. âOh, thatâs goodâ, Natasha whimpered. Slowly working over her, you switched to the other one, licking and sucking. âPlease, more, please.â
âSo needy,â you whispered, slowly working at her shorts. She slightly raised her hips further, allowing you room to pull them off. She wore nothing beneath the shorts, which made you groan. âOh Nat, youâre killing me hereâ, you mutter, pushing your fingers through her folds. She was so wet, you nearly came right there and then. âFuckâ she sighed, shivers running down her body. âTell me what you want me to do to you,â you tell her, wanting her to guide you through this time. âMouth, please use your mouth!âÂ
âYes maâamâ you smirk, you take your time travelling down her body, pressing kisses to her stomach, kissing her scars. âYouâre so damned beaufitulâ you whisper to her, she whines, trying to push your head down to her centre. âAnd so impatientâ you laugh, kissing her clit.Â
You languidly lick your way from her enterance up to her nerves. âTaste so goodâ you murmur against her.Â
Her noises are to die for, shes whining, moaning, whimpering below you. âOh fuck, that feels so goodâ she cries, gripping your hair. You fingers come to press against her entrance, slowly pushing into her, your tongue working double time with her clit. âOh yes, fuck, keep doing that!âshe sighs. Smirking against her, your fingers start to speed up, coming to add another in her sopping cunt.Â
Your tongue alternates between licks to slow suckles. Her body started to shake, her hips coming to buck against you frantically. Your fingers continue to bully her walls as she reaches closer and closer to her high. You could feel yourself starting to ache watching her come apart beneath you, makes you feel some type of way you couldnt quite describe. âCum for me Natâ you say, trying to work your fingers at an increased speed, curling them into her.Â
She cries above you her orgasm hitting her hard, her back arches and her thighs tremble as she releases on her fingers. ây/n! Fuck!âÂ
You continue your ministrations, letting her ride out the throes of her orgasm. You slowly take your fingers out, rising up to her. She takes your hand, sucking your fingers of the remaining essence of herself. You groan, feeling her lips around you. Pulling your fingers out of her mouth, you press your lips against her, your tongue working its way into her mouth. She returns it with equal fevour, tasting her self on your tongue.
You gasp when she rolled you underneath her, kissing your neck. âNat, you, dont have toâ you sigh when she licks that sensitive point behind your ear. âCan I try something?â she asks, pulling away from you to look you in the eye. âUhuhâ you nod. She quickly undresses you. You watch her looking at you, the intensity of it all made yout insides feel molten. You had no idea of what she was going to do. But the minute she spread your legs, your head fell back in a groan.Â
You felt her pressing your centre against yours,âOhâ you smirk up at her. She laughs and adjusts her legs, the movement sending a ripple through you. You both moan when she begins to move, grinding aginst hers, the sound is downright shameful as your hands push and pull her hips against you, bucking up to apply more pressure between the two of you. She pulled one of your legs up so your ankle is resting on her shoulders.Â
The newly adjusted position has both of you panting and moaning, rutting against each other. âGod keep going,â you cry when she comes down to suck one of your nipples into her mouth. The added stiumulation making you shiver, your spine feels hot as she works your body like never before. âIâm so close,â Natasha whines against your chest, circling her hips at a renounced speed. âMe too baby, cum with me,â you reply, crying out when she lightly bites your chest.Â
Natashaâs mouth detaches from you as her mouth hangs open in a silent moan, your hands continue guiding her hips as lightning rains down you, sending you into a spiralling storm of pleasure. You feel white hot as you feel natasha release all over you, gripping onto her for dear life.Â
You guys donât know how long you stay like that, until Natasha detaches herself from you and rolls to the side of you. You huff turning to face her âAre you sure that was your first time with a girl, because like wow,â you laugh. âIâve been researchingâ she says, shrugging her shoulders. âNatasha Romanoff, are you telling me youâve been watching lesbian pornâ You giggle when she throws a pillow at your head. âShut up!â she says worming her way into your arms.Â
âDoes this mean i can ask you out on an official date now?â You whisper into her ear. âYes, i think it doesâ she says kissing your shoulder.
welp, i lowkey hate how this turned out đ
#m:works#natasha romanoff#natasha romanoff fluff#natasha romanoff smut#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha x you#natasha x y/n#fanfic#marvel
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Realizing He Loves You. | Haikyuu
inc. akaashi, bokuto, oikawa, iwaizumi, kuroo, kenma
written in 2nd pov (female reader implied)
song recc: my loves get special treatment and all get a song or quote of their own again but just for fun </3 sideways by cleo sol
word count: 1922 words
summary: "when does he realize he loves you/what does he do to show that he loves you?"
little bit of crack? nekoma performs a psychology experiment (??) i just had a little bit of fun writing this and projecting onto like all of them <3 but i just love them all sm and i'm making up for not including kenma in my last post mb guys
akaashi
"don't shorten your speech. i love your details."
if you thought he paid attention to bokuto, youâre not ready for what he gives you
he gives you everything <3 anything you could ever ask for, heâll get you it
heâs always hoping to see you, when he hears a door open, he looks up, hoping it might just happen to be you
it doesnât click at first that heâs purposely looking out for you on instinct, but he starts to realize it as he finds himself orbiting around you more and more
he gives you his full attention whenever you say something, and if you get sidetracked or forget what youâre talking about, you best believe he remembers what youâve already said and will try and prompt your memory by explaining what youâve already told him
will also check in and remember things that you have said in the past, like you told him about a new book you were reading and the next time he sees you, heâll ask you how it's going. or if you guys are too busy and he doesnât ask you about it then, heâll ask you about it another time he sees you. but either way, it always surprises you and touches your heart when he remembers <3
you best believe heâs always making time for you too
burst into the gym, his classroom, or bedroom and heâs already dropping everything for you
âkeiji, youâll never guess what happened!â
âwhat happened, love?â
the moment he probably fully realized how much he loved you was when he started holding your hands to stop you from picking at them
heâs always paying so much attention to you and he cares so much about you that he lovingly tries to stop you from habits like biting your nails or picking at your skin <3
heâll notice that youâre doing it when youâre sitting beside him and with all the care in the world heâll be gently holding your hands, running his own pretty fingers along them and rubbing them
you know heâs doing it to stop you and help you but youâll pout, saying, âthatâs not fair, keiji, you pick at your fingers too :( â
but heâll only smile as he takes his eyes off his fingers playing with yours to look at you, âi know. but you're not allowed to because i love you.â
bokuto
everyone adores you (at least i do)
he couldnât stop talking about you
he didnât do it on purpose, but genuinely just kept bringing you up to everyone because youâre his everything <3
he does it with such love and adoration, the biggest smile on his face that no one can say no to him or interrupt him, they just keep listening
in all sorts of conversations, heâll find a way to bring you into it and people know that if he doesnât have practice, thereâs a 99% heâs with you (that 1% is simply when itâs absolutely impossible for him to be with you
if anyone ever asks him what he did over the weekend, heâs always mentioning you, âmy weekend? oh, my girlfriend and IâŚâÂ
he has literally no reason to be vague heâs so proud of you and to be your boyfriend heâll say it whenever he can <3
and just like how his his energy and determination is contagious on the court, so is his happiness when he talks about you
at some point someone on the team brought it up with a grin on their face to match his purely joyous one,
âman, you really love her, donât you?â
heâd already thought about it a ton before, but to hear someone say it for the first time, it felt different
his face felt a little warm but he couldnât help but nod,
âi do. i love her.â
oikawa
"jupiter couldn't keep me from you / oh, i'm yours."
he realizes it when seeing you makes him flustered and he canât stop thinking about you
definitely talks about you a lot to anyone who he can get to listen
like itâs worse than bokuto
but it goes past that, youâre on his mind all the time, throughout his classes and afterschool
and this is NOT basic i swear let me explain
heâs smiling stupidly to himself all throughout the day, his head filled with moments heâs had with you
theyâre just showing up in his head without him even trying but heâs not complaining
heâll see you in the halls and he just canât stop the smile that spreads across his face
heâll be listening to songs and suddenly heâs relating them all to you, asap he started making a playlist for you as soon as he became the slightest bit interested in you, he just couldnât stop thinking about you but at first he thought it was just normal
but then heâs there, helping clean the floors after volleyball practice and heâs in his own head, a lovesick smile on his face and his heart brimming with adoration for you
seijoh 4 is looking at the scene in confusion and worry, feeling slightly uncomfortable at the sight
âis he really that happy to be cleaning the floors?â
âmaybe heâs imagining that his serve had hit kageyama in the face and not yahaba??â
âit irks me. trashykawa if you donât wipe that stupid grin off your faceââ
suddenly maki and mattsun are holding iwa back by the arms from marching over to the boy who's still stuck in his own world, smiling with a mop in hand
eventually maki pieces it together, the three of them approaching the boy once iwa has found the will to keep the rage inside again <3
âwhose the lucky girl thatâs got you smiling like that?â he asked with a taunting smile
to his surprise, tooru was completely transparent, no jokes or comebacks, a pink hue dusting his cheeks as he rested his chin on the handle of the mop with the same lopsided smile as always, âthis girl iâve been seeingâŚgod, i think i love her.â
iwaizumi
"calling my lover 'mine' but not in the way that my toothbrush or notebook are mine, mine in the way my neighborhood is mine, and also everybody else's, 'mine' like mine to tend to, mine to care for, mine to love. 'mine' not like possession but devotion."
he realized he loved you when he found that he just wanted to do everything for you
the definition of âi know u can do it urself but let me spoil u <3â
he has a list of everything you like so that he always knew what to get you
heâs always coming up with special plans and gifts for anniversaries, birthdays and holidays
i just know he comes up with the best ideas
and i know everyone says this BUT HEâS SO walking on the open side of the sidewalk to guard you from passing cars omg <3
definitely a man whose skipping whatever he has going on that day to take care of you when you get sick or if youâre taking a mental health day
he just wants to make sure youâre completely taken care of and that you know how much you mean to him <3 heâs always reassuring you when you have even the slightest doubt that you are not and will never be an inconvenience or anything of the sort
is 100% holding your bag when you guys are walking at school
and ofc is holding your bags if you guys go out shopping is that even a question??
heâs always asking to take you out places and do something with you
unless you catch him in a gracious mood and give him three good reasons why he shouldnât pay for something for you, youâre not winning
heâs paying and heâs happy to <3 if youâre really adamant about it, heâll let you pay (sometimes) but will still try to get you to at least split it
he loves you so much he will give himself wholly to you whenever you ask for it
he can go from completely abusing oikawa to holding you so gently and speaking softly and lovingly in a split second <3
recovering from his beating, oikawa approached iwa again, as you left to take care of something else, âsheâs really got you wrapped around her finger, doesnât she?â
iwa only continued to watch your leaving figure, âi guess so. but iâd burn the world for her if she asked.â
kuroo
"hold on. hold on. i have to protest. do you think i would choose to live without you?"
he shows how much he cares for you by always making you his first priority
heâs always with you and always on time for you
it didnât really click with him at first but he realized he loved you when he was thinking so much about making sure you knew that you were cared for and that you deserved nothing short of the best, including a man that is always there for you
i feel like tetsuro (with love) is the type of man who shows up late to things unapologetically at least ever so often
but never when it comes to you
expect him to always be there on an agreed time if not earlier
as researchers (the nekoma volleyball team) found in their experiment (completely unbiased and empirical), by just saying that the group was going to hang out and that you were going to be there, he was guaranteed to show up on time. but any other time, if you werenât involved, there was a chance he was showing up at least 10 minutes late
(kenma was most certainly their control group to see what tetsuroâs normal behavior was for the people closest to him <3)
when yamamoto presented these findings to tetsuro himself, he simply shrugged
âso youâll show up completely ready, hair styled and all for her but when it comes to us you come looking like a tornado hit you in the two blocks it takes to get to the convenience store and it set you back like 10 minutes??â
âwell duh, i love her, not you.â
kenma
"so you see her / she's over in the corner / and you can't ignore her / there must be a reason"
he realized he loved you when he noticed that he was always keeping an ear open to listen for youÂ
heâs not used to really working with others. like heâs either listened to (ie. brain of his team) or heâs working independently because heâs not going through the effort of putting up with people
you and kuroo on a good day are the exceptions
bc with you, itâs like he wants to hear from you
he doesnât often love talking to people, and he hates when people interrupt him when heâs doing something, but when heâs playing games and you're around, he has one side of his headphones pushed behind his ear in case you say something to him
even before you guys were dating, when he sat next to you in class, because you sat to his left, heâd only put in his right earbud when he listened to music so he could hear you
and even when you guys are walking together, hand in hand, if he still has an earbud in, he makes sure to walk on the side of you that doesnât have an earbud in <3
before practices have officially started, heâs completely unavailable and does not care for what anyone has to say to him
but then he sees you walking in and heâs got an earbud out or his headphones are pushed to the side immediately <3
kuroo notices this after some time and teased him about it, âoh? you never make an effort to listen to anything I have to say if you have your headphones on. does she mean that much to you?â
kenma didnât even look up from his switch, but there was a small smile on his face at the question, âyeah, she does.â
#akaashi x reader#bokuto x reader#oikawa x reader#iwaizumi x reader#kuroo x reader#kenma x reader#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu headcannons
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Neon Sticky Notes
prompt: ( requested ) reminding your boyfriend you love him one sticky note at a time.
pairing: Carmen 'Carmy' Berzatto x female!reader pairing: Carmy x Peach
fandom masterlist: FX's The Bear
word count: 2.4k+
note: baby gets what baby wants! God, do i hope this is what you want, my baby...
warnings: probably cursing, Carmy needs a nap, men being simps, this is short and sweet! it's FINALLY edited!!!
You knew he was struggling. Worn-out, beaten down, exhausted, run ragged, amuck, and into the ground.
It was evident in the way he carried himself; the prominent bags under his eyes, the way he tossed and turned in bed before being found on the living room couch in the morning. His hair seemed greasier then usual, his skin turning gaunt and grey, and you knew he wasn't making time to eat.
By comparison, you had a simple job, something corporate and in an office. Something that made decent money; something you were good at, something you could find pride in doing.
However, Carmy's job as a chef was different; being more than stressful, and while coupled together for years now, it was still a work-in-progress each time Carmen started on a new venture. Owning, running, and converting The Beef into something "better" should've been no different, only it was - it was totally different. Carmy was frazzled, looking deranged some evenings, as if operating on adrenaline, and you were at a loss on how to help.
So, you resorted to a natural instinct - communicating.
Carmy needed reassurance, he needed support, he needed to be loved for who he is, exactly how he was, in order to keep his head on straight. You never did mind the challenge that was Carmen Berzatto, finding him akin to a puzzle. So, on your way home from work one evening, you stopped at a CVS to grab a pack of neon, multi-colored sticky notes and a brand new Sharpie marker.
You had an idea.
When you got back to your shared apartment, you unloaded the groceries you needed onto the counters before calling Carmy. "Hey, Peaches," he answered on the third ring, usual kitchen clatter in the background, "everything okay?"
"Yeah, all good."
"Sure? Sound outta breath."
"The elevator's broken, I got groceries," you groaned, "and have been skipping the gym for a couple weeks."
He chuckled, "Never skip leg day, baby, you know it's our house motto."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever - hush. I'm just wondering if you had an ETA for tonight? I have an early morning meeting, so I want to go to sleep early."
"Uh," he trailed, a muffled ruffling sounding over the line before a small clatter that made him sigh, "yeah, um, you know what? I really don't know, baby, I'm sorry. You do your thing and I'll be quiet when I get in, just leave my stuff on the couch."
"No, come to bed," you whined slightly, "I miss you."
"Awh, yeah, miss you, too, Peach. I'll be there," he promised.
You finished putting all groceries away; the dishes following, then you got started on prepping dinner. Look, you were no cook - that was all Carmy. But you weren't totally useless in a kitchen, so, you didn't mind taking over most meals now that Carmy was waist-deep in The Beef's bullshit. You played music as you cooked, poured a glass of wine, danced around, and tried to think of a list of encouraging things to remind Carmy. You ate dinner alone, and when done with clean-up, faced off with your sticky notes and Sharpie.
The first note was scribbled and stuck on the covered plate in the fridge: Bone Apple Teeth, Chef!
Then you wrote a note to leave at the door where Carm was sure to drop his keys: make sure you eat the plate I left you!
Humming, you pondered a moment before smirking and writing a third note to be left on the TV remote: I know you too well. come to bed.
Lastly, you wrote a fourth and final note to be left in the bathroom: great job today, Chef! you're killing it!
You were fast asleep when he got home. He found the note in the key bowl, smirking at your kindness and thoughtfulness. Carmy saw the messily-drawn heart and pocketed the note, toeing off his shoes and entering the kitchen. He reheated the plate you left, pocketed the second note after a silent grin of amusement, and when ready, took his hot food to the couch.
Carmy laughed when he found your third note. He left it on the table as he ate, half-watching the news segment he flipped on. When he was full and his plate clear, Carmy turned the TB off, pocketed your note, set everything in the dishwasher, started it, and then went into the bathroom. Another soft chuckle emitted as he pulled the final note in his hand - and you already know he saved it.
When he got in your shared room, he made sure to leave the notes in a random shoe box, stashing it in his closet, changed for the night, and crawled into bed with you.
This was a regular occurrence now: Carmy came home late to a barrage of sticky notes, saved them all, then crashed in bed with you. You missed each other, but understood scheduling just didn't line up right now. It wasn't like you two never saw one another, you still did - but it wasn't like it was. Time together now felt fleeting, as if you had to savor everything, so you made the most of your situation.
Was it overcompensation? Possibly. But Carmy adored your notes.
Sometimes, you'll be sat in the living room, reading a book, working on your laptop, or scrolling Instagram on your phone, while he cooks and he finds a note left on the milk carton that reads: I am UDDERLY in love with you!
Get it? 'Cause cows have udders? You were pretty proud of that pun.
Other times, he'll be up at an unGodly hour, getting a steamy hot shower, and you'll come in to pee. He doesn't think anything of anything until he gets out of the stall only to see a neon orange sticky note on the counter, saying: i love your butt! lemme pinch it!
Carmy feels himself looking forward to your little surprises. Some were funny and a little vulgar, like the note found on the eggs: fertilize MY eggs!
Some notes were more innocent, like the one he found in his shoe one morning, reading: I'm so proud of you. have a great day today!
Some just said: be home for dinner @ 8! making your fav!
Others were found, saying: you're so fucking handsome. I'm one lucky ducky! You even tried to draw a little duck.
Some notes were motivational: you're doing a GREAT job, baby!
Some notes reminded: you have a dentist appt @ 10!
Some notes were sweet: call me during your break, cutie, i miss your voice!
And others found on the bathroom mirror were playful: you look too good today, go change! A second note added: don't need anyone looking at your fine ass! A third: i'm the only one allowed to look #respectfully
Each and every note had a drawn heart, being saved to a hidden shoebox. He found notes in his usual coffee mug, reminding him you loved him. He found notes on his toothpaste tube, telling him he was doing a great job. Cereal boxes now promised Carmy they were proud of him, pastas told him to have a great day, and the light switches assured reminded him how special he was.
The microwave told him you felt blessed to be his and in his jacket pocket, he was told how lucky you are to love him. Some notes swore to him he was one of a kind, others explicitly detailed what parts of him you wanted in parts of you, and a few reminded him of important dates, appointments, deadlines, anniversaries, birthdays, etc..
Sometimes, he found little treats with these sticky notes. Like when you had to make brownies for your little sister's bake sale, you left him a Tupperware full with a hot pink note, labeled: for the love of my life!
And then... One morning, when you got up for work, Carmy was already gone for his day. You went through your normal routine, entering the kitchen with the intention of making a to-go cup of coffee, only to pause and grin when a neon green sticky note greeted you from the stovetop. Written in messy, fresh, black Sharpie was: got you on my mind. love you, be home @ 6 tonight!
Carmy drew own heart and you beamed at the reciprocation. You didn't mind the distance for now, knowing he was busy and it wouldn't last forever; but the fact that he could reassure you as much as you could him warmed your heart. You felt like the Grinch when his heart grew in size, just without the painful grunting. If anything, you felt euphoric from his little note - thinking it was reassuring to still communicate even when your schedules differed.
The day passed sluggishly - only because you were actually excited to go home. Ironically, your last client of the day didn't leave until a little later than scheduled, so, when you FINALLY got off work and made it home, Carmy had beaten you. When you got through the door, you were met with a heavenly aroma; using Gandalf's advice and following your nose to enter the kitchen.
You sighed dreamily when you came to a halt in the doorway, bottom lip trapped between your teeth to attempt and restrain your ecstatic grin. Carmy was shirtless at the stove, stirring a pasta dish to coat it in the sauce of his choice. "Hi, pretty peach," he beamed at you.
"Oh, I've missed this sight," you squealed, rushing to his side to throw your arms around his neck. "Hi, baby, hi, baby, hi, baby," you chanted between chaste kisses to his cheek.
"Someone missed me," he laughed, cheeks blooming a bright red - but not from the kitchen heat.
"I feel like I haven't seen you in forever, and you know I don't do well alone, I need attention," you teased with a pout, his arm slithering around your waist - but a crinkle noise caught your attention. "Woah, hey. Did you get a new tattoo?" You pondered, looking down at his arm that was protectively bandaged.
He smirked and held his arm out, "Wanna take the plastic off for me?"
"What'd you get?"
"Find out," he whispered, staring at you with his intense baby blue eyes; waiting as you calculated your next move. Slowly, you reached out and unwrapped the protective cling wrap, getting to the gauze, then slowly peeling that from his skin.
"Ohhh, my fucking God," you whispered.
"Like it?"
"Are these... My hearts?"
He nodded, "I got 6 of them from your notes tattooed. 'Cause we've been together six years. Figured, each year, I could add one - but you gotta draw it."
"You're ridiculous," you laughed, in minor disbelief. "What made you do this?"
He eased, "You. I've never felt so confident in my life before, and I know you're a huge part of that. It feels right, being with you feels right and I wanted to show you that I see and appreciate all you do." His tone softened, "I wouldn't be me without you, Peach."
"You'd still be Carmy."
"A totally different Carmy, though," he chuckled. "I actually like who I am with you, baby. But look here, I know it's been real hectic lately, sweet girl, with the restaurant, but it's not gonna be like this forever. We're makin' progress, we're gonna get this settled."
"I know," you assured, "'cause if anyone's gonna get this done, it's you. Just don't forget to breathe every now and then - you're drowning in this stress and I need you to stay afloat, Carm."
"I'm good, Peaches, got you on my team so I can't lose," he eased, tucking you into his chest for an embrace. After a minute and a tight squeeze, he sighed, pecked the crown of your head, then mumbled, "Why don't you go wash up? Dinner's almost ready."
You agreed, stealing one last (prolonged) kiss before scampering off to the bedroom. When you got there, you almost tripped when you came to a halt; laughing loudly as the entire bed was covered in an array of neon colored sticky notes. Until you got closer and realized each note detailed a different reason Carmy loved you; from the way you search for him in your sleep to how you resembled a Gremlin if not fed within certain hours. From how you weren't afraid to dress up for the Renaissance Festival to how you throw blankets in the dryer for 15 minutes before movie nights. In fact, "movie night" was on a single note, being a fond yet routine date. You read each note carefully, tears wanting to build but you refused to let them, yet it was difficult when this was the sweetest gesture you've ever known.
Even things you were insecure about, like dimples or weight or hair color, was highlighted as a reason Carmy loved you. He listed your authenticity, generosity, thoughtfulness, charisma, incredible brain but even bigger heart. He praised your wit, your humor; adored your sneezes, and looked forward to coming home every night because he knew he was coming home to you.
You've never felt so loved before, wondering if this was what Carmy felt each time he found one of your notes.
Movement caught your peripheral, and when you looked up, Carmy was leaning in the doorway of the bedroom; arms crossed and lips pulled in a small smirk. He didn't speak, he just stared at you. You were at a loss for words, opening and closing your mouth twice; holding most of the sticky notes in your hands, but then, you settled on telling him simply, "I love you so fucking much, Carmy."
Dinner might've allegedly burned that night, but so did your love and passion for one another. Even the smallest of gestures can go farther than we anticipate, and showing someone you care could be as simple as leaving them notes around the apartment you cohabitate in, on neon colored Post It's.
Wanna know the cool thing about adult relationships? You get to love your partner out loud; being unapologetic in how you emote, and in return, you're loved by them. Each person deserves to be loved in the way they want to be loved - but you know how fucking great it is when two lovers respond to the same language? What I mean is, it could be considered rare that you, who liked to leave notes, would meet and fall in love with someone who liked to collect and read those notes. Your love language was the same as Carmy's, part of the reason you both worked so well together - but also why one day, he'd add plenty more hand drawn hearts to the collection on his forearm.
requesting rules and masterlist
The Bear masterlist
#carmy berzatto#carmy#carmy the bear#carmy x reader#carmy berzatto x reader#carmy berzatto imagine#carmen carmy berzatto#carmy berzatto x female!reader#carmy berzatto x you#carmen berzatto x reader#carmen berzatto x you#carmen berzatto fanfiction#carmen berzatto fic#carmen berzatto#carmen berzatto fluff#carmy fluff#carmy berzatto fluff#the bear#the bear fx#the bear hulu#hulu the bear#fx the bear#the bear fanfiction#the bear x reader#the bear x you#the bear x y/n#carmy berzatto x fem!reader#carmy berzatto x f!reader#the bear carmy
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Kuroo Tetsuro has survived just about a hundred confessions in his lifetime. No, really, he has. He's survived meek, stuttering schoolgirls who bring him boxes of intricately wrapped chocolates, bolder, riskier classmates who offer to fill in the empty spot as his plus-one for school events, even girls from schools they play against who ask for a signature across their tits after Nekoma matches (which he has definitely never taken up before, for sure, not even a question.)
He is rendered speechless for the first time in his life, as he rummages through his brain, looking for the right words to either declare his undying infatuation, or to put together some sort of excuse as a backup plan if his confession goes sideways. Somehow, he fails to do either, which is how the two of you end up stuck inside the storage room of Nekoma's gym, surrounded by the seductive scent of rubber and leather volleyballs, and sweaty, unwashed school jerseys.
It was supposed to be easy, he was supposed to offer to pack up, and wait for the rest of the team to leave first, before ushering you, the team manager, over to him. He was supposed to tell you that he thought you were totally cool (not awesome yet though), one hand pressed up against the wall outside the storage room so his body could lean into it, and the other one spinning a volleyball on his finger like he just #didn't care lol if you said yes or no (which was a blatant lie). After that, since you would obviously have said yes anyways, he was supposed to flick the ball up and catch it with one hand only, flip his hair back like the totally awesome and nonchalant guy he thinks he is (he's not), and give you a wink for good measure, just so you remember how totally hot he is and never lose interest in him. Then, he would retreat into the storage room, and toss the volleyball into the basket with the others, waiting to hear for your giddy skips out of the gym. Once you were out, he would scream and jump like a teenage schoolgirl who just got their tits signed by Kuroo Tetsuro, and go home with a skip in his step. It was a perfect plan, down to the minute details.
Everything went south the second he decided to lean against the wall. It seemed that he had miscalibrated how many inches away the part of the wall that he was planning to lean on was from the door to the storage room. He instead opted to place his entire body weight onto the door that was kept ajar, so as to make sure Kuroo could go inside and toss the volleyball into the basket. It was already too late to salvage his plan when he sensed the shift in his centre of gravity, and the lack of surface beneath his feet as he tumbled straight into the storage room right in front of you. Obviously worried (of course, since you're supposed to be blindly in love with him), you ran in as well, too quickly for Kuroo to stop you before the door slowly swung shut behind your back, drowning the room in a blanket of pitch darkness.
The door unlocks from the outside. The keys are in Kuroo's pocket, which are now stuck inside the storage room that he had to unlock from the outside to keep open so he could toss the ball into the basket with the others after confessing his totally lowkey, "they don't even matter at all" feelings for you. See? This is what happens when Kuroo tries to do new things.
"You sure you don't want the lights-"
"KEEP THEM- nah, just keep them off, I like it better this way anyways."
He will stand in front of the light switch to block it completely if he needs to. He will threaten to strip naked right then and there if it means you will not even try to turn those fucking lights on. His entire body is so fucking red right now it's not even funny anymore, just embarrassing, and really, really lame. On the other hand, you just really want to find your phone, which has miraculously slipped out of your pocket and slid onto the ground of the storage room somewhere.
"Can I at least borrow your phone for a flashlight? I need to find mine, gotta let my parents know I might actually not make it home tonight."
Now Kuroo isn't a selfish person, and he is happy to offer his phone for you to find your own, so long as you don't try to look at him while you sweep across the floor of the room. He is happy to offer his phone, but it is sitting outside on a bench, far away from the horrors of the storage room. His free hand, now clammy and grimy from falling onto the ground and sweating bullets from his embarrassment, reaches up to rub his temples. Not only did his meticulously crafted plan blow up in his face, he now has to spend how many hours stuck in here with you, knowing full well he was going to confess. He can't even offer you help in finding a fucking phone in here. This isn't funny anymore, just humiliating, and really, really, really lame.
"Yeah, uh, that's somewhere outside too, my bad."
You stretch your hands out in front of you, feeling for a cart, or a wall, anything to lead your way. Your fingers manage to graze over the wall, and you almost cry out in relief when you can vaguely tell where in the storage room you are. Pressing your back against the wall, you slide downwards to sit. You don't have a watch, or any indication of time for that matter, but you can tell it's going to be a long night in here.
So why not probe a little further?
"Well, Tetsu, since we'll be stuck here for a while anyways, what were you saying before?"
The way his nickname rolls off your tongue makes him reconsider giving up on his efforts, until the rest of your question ensues. Kuroo can make out where you are from your voice, and he too tries to feel for a wall of some sort to walk along. Instead of a wall, he walks straight into you and trips over, falling into a pile of old jerseys. He isn't even sure how you're sitting here with that chemical weapon right next to you, but this will have to make do for now. He settles himself down beside you, his hand pressing against the ground.
"Me?" Who else? The Boogeyman?
"No, me. Yes, obviously you, dumbass, before you locked us both into this place."
He is sure of one thing: He does not want to confess to you right now. He did, twenty minutes ago, but as of now, he doesn't. His eyes dart wildly from one place to another, looking between nothing in particular in the pitch black room. Fuck me! Kill me now! Put a stop to this never-ending suffering! You think those old jerseys might actually have fatal effects on the human body?
"Nothing, don't worry about it haha it's literally nothing." God he sounds so fucking stupid. Haha? Seriously? Like that's going to save him now?
"Alright, then, guess we'll just sit here in silence for however long it takes until someone finds us. It will probably be tomorrow morning, just letting you know. But that's fine." No, it is not fine. You're itching to know what he was going to say. You're really hoping it's what you thought he was going for, but being hopeful leads to getting locked in a storage room, sitting next to a potential biohazard for the next 13 or so hours.
The motion activated lights outside the storage room shut off, and you can tell that it's dark out by the way that no light seeps through the bottom of the door anymore. Your stomach rumbles, unaccustomed to running this empty at this time of day. If only you can find your phone, which is lying unceremoniously somewhere in this room, and order something. That is your main concern. Kuroo's main concern is something way bigger, and much, much harder to fix. He is locked in a pitch black room with his team manager, who he's been head over heels fawning over ever since they graced the club with their presence. His phone is somewhere outside, which is not ideal. Your phone is somewhere inside, but to find it, you would have to turn the lights on, which is clearly the most reasonable thing to do. Except the second you turn the lights on, you will be able to see how the red from Kuroo's face and neck is slowly, but surely seeping into his white t-shirt, the amount of red enough to begin staining the collar pink, which is also not ideal, and is in fact, much worse.
"God, what the fuck am I doing?" Kuroo's hands travel to his ears, and the tips are smoking hot. He cups them in his palms, before rubbing his face in agony. This was supposed to be easy, and cool, and he was supposed to walk out of the gym with a new girlfriend. Now, he's not even sure when he will get to walk out of this gym. Should he make some small talk? Lie on the ground and sleep? Try to find a bottle to piss in for the night?
"If you help me find my phone, we can order food, and I'm telling you right now I need that, so badly. Can you please just turn the fucking lights on, Tetsu? Please?"
He doesn't respond, partially because he's too scared to, and mostly because he's trying to think of what excuse he can vomit out for being piping red everywhere the second you flick the lights on. He can feel you standing up by the way that your knee makes that little clicking sound when you extend them, the little sound he's heard so many times before during packup. You take one step, two steps three steps, hands outstretched and feeling for the smooth plastic of the light switch. Just as the coolness hits your fingertips, you flick the switch on.
Click!
"I'm like, really into you."
Oh! This was definitely not what you expected! Fuck me! Kill me now! How do you keep it cool when he's sitting right there!
You don't spare a second in turning the lights back off, drowning the room in darkness again, this time to hide your own flushing face. You're supposed to spend the next 13 or so hours in here with this guy, and he's just dropped a bombshell onto you. Not to say you don't reciprocate, because you obviously do (who wouldn't?), but you have to admit, it's a little scary thinking about the possibility of it, and it's really scary when the possibility is confirmed, for better or for worse.
Meanwhile, the possibility has been confirmed for Kuroo, for the worse. Much, much worse. Was it that bad? Was he so pathetic in his antics, that the second he truly meant what he said, you had to shut the lights off? He should've just waited longer, for more signs, or more tells, anything. He should've waited until his chances were maximised, so that there was no margin of error, and he definitely should not have planned to lean on a wall so close to a door that unlocks from the outside. Instead of his carefully orchestrated confession going swimmingly, it is drowning, and it's kicking and flailing its arms and legs everywhere, gasping for air.
"It wasn't supposed to be like this. Sorry. Wow! This is really fucking embarrassing! I need to die, like right now! Feel free to stay on that side of the room, you go girl!"
You try to stifle in a laugh, but it leaves your mouth before you can stop it. Typical Tetsuro, he just can't help but end everything with a joke. Time to test his sincerity.
"Alright, well what if..."
He can hear your footsteps approaching. He shuts his eyes, he's ready for anything. Kuroo has thick skin, he knows it. He's been hit more times that he can count in every single area of his body by the force of leather balls being struck by teenage boys, he's ready for it, trust guys! He's got this! In the bag! (The bag is a soggy paper bag that just broke from the bottom. Everything inside is rolling away from him on the ground.)
Instead of the stinging slap he's expecting, your extended hand brushes his shoulder, and then two hands cradle his face from the sides. The musty air of the storage room dissipates, and he smells chapstick instead, minty, almost unnoticeable. He braces himself. You're about to break his neck, he's sure of it, and honestly, that doesn't sound like too bad of an option right now.
"...I do this?"
Goodbye, beautiful world, and volleyball, and fans asking him to sign their tits. And most importantly of all, goodbye, you.
Then he tastes mint. It's a miracle that you even manage to find where his lips are in the pitch black darkness of the room, but a shot of luck works out in miraculous ways sometimes. This is one of those times. Kuroo has no idea what he's doing. Should his hands go on your waist? Or your face? Or your neck? Why is he thinking about those things right now, as if he can see where you are, and as if you aren't kissing him in the middle of the gym storage room? Fuck it, he just shuts his eyes and lets it happen, placing his hands wherever he can find you.
After all, he's Kuroo Tetsuro, and he just pulled his team manager by locking himself in a room with them on accident at 8pm on a Wednesday night.
"This was all a part of my masterplan, you just weren't aware of it."
"Whatever helps you sleep at night, Tetsu."
âOh, this definitely does.â
You pull him close by his collar, and you can feel the heat radiating off his face. You smirk, canât have a guy like him getting too cocky.
âDonât embarrass me, motherfucker.â
Kuroo grins at your threat. Never has he ever had to make his own confession, let alone receive a threat in response. To be fair, never has he ever been locked in the gymâs storage room with his team manager either. Truly a night of new experiences.
He thinks itâs hot. Like really hot. He might just embarrass you a little once every so often to hear you say it again.
âWhatever you say, princess.â
____________________________________________
Kenma comes in for morning practice the next day, and for once Kuroo is earlier than him, judging by the way that his duffel bag is slouched over the bench, and his regular sneakers are sitting beneath it. Coach has given him the spare keys to the storage room, just in case Kuroo has lost his set again. He goes to unlock the door, seeing that it's closed, which means Kuroo has definitely lost them.
He opens the door to the two of you asleep, half of your body sprawled on top of his, and one of his arms resting inside your shirt, right on the dip of your back, atop a pile of old, musty jerseys. He winces, not at the sight of the two of you finally together, but at the fact that you two have managed to fall asleep in the centre of a bioweapon.
author's note:
i cracked myself up so many times writing this you have no idea, and i hope i have cracked you up too as you read this.
here are the tags!
@chuuya-brainrot @starlysama @bailey-reeds
will see you all in the next one, love u guys, bye bye
#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu imagines#kuroo tetsuro x reader#kuroo x reader#hq imagines#hq crack#haikyuu kuroo#kuroo testuro#haikyuu!!#haikyuu#haikyuu scenarios#haikyuu oneshot#kuroo tetsuro fluff#haikyuu fluff#kuroo tetsuro imagine#kuroo tetsurou#kuroo fluff
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Heyy could u write smth with lando x reader where they're working out together and he's spotting her during her workout and pushing her to the limit keeps saying suggestive shit like "ik u have the stamina for more".
Thx smm hope ur doing good đŤśđź
Warnings: smut, 18+, fingering, dirty talk, praise
Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader
A/N - thereâs a point in the fic which mentions the weight being the same as the reader (Iâve put a *** the start of the paragraph itâs indicated in, please change the weight to your own weight or whatever you please x)
Youâd met Lando in the gym a few weeks ago when heâd helped you with one of the machines, and now ended up going to the gym together. Your sessions mostly consisted of you not truly doing much, a few weights as you watched him and made him laugh instead. âY/N,â he groaned as you sat on the bench, cracking another joke.Â
Lando loved these gym sessions, he loved your company and looked forward to seeing you every time. âSorry,â you giggled, sitting on the weights bench. âYou donât ever do anything,â he grumbled, âyou just sit there and make me laugh, Iâm gonna drop for weights one day,â. You plastered a mischevious grin across your face, brushing your hair out of your face.Â
âWhat are you saying, you want me to do something?â you said jokingly, âMe, whoâs never picked up a weight since I met you?â. He rolled his eyes at your joking words, walking over to you. âCâmon,â he said, taking your hand into his and pulling you up. âLetâs get you doing something, instead of getting me to break my toes,â.Â
In the end, the bench press ended up looking the most appealing, it wouldâve be too hard, and then some exercises  without the need of any weight or equipment. Lando helped you down onto the bench, sliding a few weights off the bar, and lifting it into your arms. âGood girl,â he said, your eyes widening at the nickname.Â
It couldâve been taken innocently, as an accident, maybe, but the way he said it and the expression on Landoâs face very much contradicted such. You brushed it off as an accident or something, lifting the bar up with ease, your arms only shaking slightly with the weight. âTaking it so well,â Lando muttered, kneeling beside you as you tried not to meet his eyes, not wanting to show just how flustered you got from those words.Â
You knew he was doing it on purpose. You could tell. âFew more fâme, then we can do some hip thrusts,â he said, his voice dropping lower than usual. You were gym buddies, sure, but there was no doubt about the slight tension ever since you met. Heâd always been so good looking, especially after heâd finish a workout, all sweaty and shining, and the same for you.Â
âYouâve got more stamina, keep going for me,â he said, hand on your hips to support you slightly. You lifted the weights, ignoring how your arms started shaking form the heaviness of the bar, his hand drawing small shapes onto your skin. âDone,â he said, lifting the bar back onto the rack. You could easily pass off your flustered red cheeks as due to the exercise, instead of Landoâs words.
Youâd teased him equally as much during the past few times, and now you were getting a taste of your own medicine. âSome other exercises,â he walked up behind you, going to the small bench where youâd laid all your stuff. It was the late evening, now, meaning no one was in the gym, most people having dinner, resulting in an empty gym.Â
âPush ups,â he said, thinking of exercises as he laid two mats out together, touching each other, very nearly overlapping due to how close they were. Lando got into the position as you followed, copying his stance. Your arms flexed slightly from the aching of the bench press as you leaned down, before going back. â20, then stop,â Lando said, his body moving way faster than yours.Â
You finished a few seconds after Lando, sitting back up on your knees as you groaned. Lando chuckled his tongue, watching you rub your arms from the strain, a smirk on his face. âAw, someone been slacking so much they find twenty push his hard?â Lando pulled a mock pout as you scoffed, rolling your eyes.Â
âYeah, yeah, shut it Norris,â you said, going back to the list of exercises heâd pulled up. âOh look at that,â he showed you the list, âhip thrusts,â. You raised an eyebrow at his tone, but shrugged. âSure, whoâs going first?â you asked. âMmm, you can,â he said, looking at the rack of weights. âHow much?â he asked, weighing up the small weights. â20,â you said, resting your knees straight, as he placed the weight onto your lap.Â
âFuck,â you cursed, the weight pushing down on your hips as Lando knelt beside you, watching. âDo fifteen,â he said, watching you push your hips up. âYouâre not going down enough,â he said, his eyes narrowing as he watched your hips go up and down. âDeeper, Y/N.â. Your breath caught in your throat at the words, but you finished the rest of the exercise.Â
*** âYour turn,â you said, âwhich weight?â. He hummed, as if thinking, before pointedly saying â30kg,â. Wow, will you look at that? The 30kg appeared to be missing. Well, hidden very badly behind the rack. âYouâre not slick, Norris,â you rolled your eyes, knowing exactly what he wanted.Â
âMe? What would I try to hide?â a sly grin coated his face as you rolled your eyes, watching him get into position. Rolling your eyes, you swung your left leg over his thighs, sitting onto his lap and adjusting slightly. You heard him take a shape inhale of breath as you wriggled a bit, his arms resting on the box behind him, knees bent.Â
âHow many are you gonna do?â you asked, watching as he shuffled beneath you, trying to hide his littleâŚasset. You noticed, definitely, but Lando was just as capable of teasing you as you were him, so you ignored the feeling of his cock against your thigh. âLike, I dunno,â he shrugged, âas much as it takes to get you dripping on me,â. Your cheeks heartened at his words, your hands jumping o cover your face.Â
Lando Norris well and truly had no filter.Â
You gasped as he moved his hips up into you, his body moving smoothly as he went back down, your body bouncing slightly. His eyes were trained on your chest and the way your tits bounced with each movement, feeling the heat in your core. âWet, yet?â he asked, a grin on his face as he moved quicker.Â
You gasped, the only response going gave as he moved you up and down, his hips ricocheting into your body. The vibrations from his chest as Lando moved added to the feelings, your hands gripping his shoulders. âNow?â he asked, this time, you responded with a vehement nod. âGood,â he said, looking over his shoulder, the gym empty behind him.Â
âPerfect,â he grinned, lifting you off of his lap. You watched as he stood up from the floor, sitting onto the work bench, pulling his shorts down as you watched. You were wearing a gym skirt with shorts underneath, the dampness slightly seeping through as you rubbed your thighs together. You couldnât help the filthy thoughts as be slowly removed his shorts, your eyes widening at the size, his cock springing hard against his abdomen.Â
âCâmere,â he said, voice deep as he beckoned you to him, taking your hand and moving it to his cock. âFeels good,â he muttered, letting you pump his cock slowly, his other hand pushing you to your knees. Your hand didnât stop the movements as you sank to your knees, eyes never leaving his as you let him place his hand on the back of your hand.Â
You inhaled sharply as he moved your hand off of his length, taking his cock into his own hand. âLando,â you gasped as he tapped his dick onto the side of your cheek, prompting you to open your mouth. Your lips parted, letting him slide softly into your mouth, your warm tongue welcoming him well.
âFuck,â Lando hissed, holding your head still as he rocked his hips into your mouth slightly, not enough to hurt you, but to give you some sort of restriction, your gags choked round his length. You were hyper aware of his hand running through your hair as your salvia coated his length. He pulled you off of him, going back to the hip thrust box.Â
You sat back onto his lap as he pulled your shorts down, pumping his fingers softly inside of your core. âOh fuck Lando,â you gasped, eyes rolling as he moved in and out of you, his index and middle finger moving apart from each other inside of you, stretching you out almost.Â
âOh shit,â you muttered, clinging to his biceps as he moved his finger, pressing his cock to your clit in the process. He pulled out, quickly replacing his fingers with his dick, letting you sink down. He held you up above him slightly, his hands on your hips as he moved his hips upwards into you.Â
Wow, a workout and sex? Crazy. You moaned as Lando slammed upwards into you, his hands holding onto your waist firmly to keep you from bouncing or moving away, the knot in your stomach building up. âSo pretty,â he gasped as you clenched round him, your eyes squeezed shut, âsuch a pretty thing,â. Your moans turned to whines at his words, your hands clinging to his shoulders.Â
âWanna cum for me, yeah?â he asked, eyes trained on you. You nodded vehemently, squeezing his biceps as he pounded into you, his face unforgiving and merciless. âYouâre so pretty,â he said, words slurring as his thrusts became sloppier and sloppier. âSuch a gorgeous girl,â he gasped, âbeen wanting to fuck you for so long,â. His words were like a double turn on, your high building up with each word, as they got dirtier, filthier.Â
âSaw you once and wanted to bend you over so good,â he said, âwith your little teasing too,â. You moaned again, your high reaching itâs bursting pointing as you gasped, your orgasm washing over you, Landoâs thrusts getting sloppy as his own high washed over him, his head thrown back.Â
Instinctively, you pressed your lips to his neck, nibbling at the sensitive skin, the access heâd given you helping to push him over the edge, his cum spilling inside of you, the thick warm liquid pooling between your legs. âGonna tell my trainer I did some hip thrusts, heâll buy it,â Lando muttered, still teasing after all that.Â
âTell him it was team building,â you giggled as he pulled out of you, grabbing his towel and cleaning up your thighs. âWhat we building here?â he snorted, lifting you slightly to clean your body up. âI dunno,â you shrugged, holding onto his shoulders.Â
#lando norris#lando norris x reader#lando norris imagine#lando norris x you#lando x reader#f1#lando norris smut
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Yandere Boxer x Reader 2
Masterlist Here!! // Previous Part Here!
CW // Nonconsentual touching
A couple days have passed since Vladimir has been on life support. And today he finally woke up.
âDocâŚ?â
You turn your head inhumanly fast when you hear the quiet mutter of the fighter. Rushing over to the bed you get some water and some medicine.
âYouâre finally awake Vladimir. Everyone was worried about you.â You say and lean his bed up so he can drink some water.
Vladimirâs expression remains solemn. Heâs thinking hard about something and it worries you. Vladimir has always been your least favorite guy here at the gym. Heâd sexually harass you and catcall you everyday but heâs still your patient.
âDo you remember what happened? Who did this to you?â You ask him carefully.
The manâs knuckles whiten as his fist clenches and he utters gutturally, âI canât remember.â
You nod in understanding. âThatâs alright. What matters is your recovery.â
For the rest of the day you stay by Vladimirâs side until he was ready to walk on his own. Heâs a tough guy so he was able to get up and leave all by himself. Itâs late at night now though so itâs time for you to wrap it up. You pack your belongings in your backpack but pause when you hear your clinic door open. Facing the door you see Viktor, your ex childhood best friend.
âClinic is closed for the day. Everyone left already so why are you still here?â You ask him.
Viktor just stands there quietly. He looks around the room and shoves his hands in his hoodie pocket.
âJust wanted to check on you.â He says in his deep timbre.
You look at him skeptically. âDo you need something?â
He faces you with a small crooked frown. âNoâŚâ
Viktor has always been the quiet type. Even when he was a little boy. Some habits never change you supposed.
âViktor I know youâre here for a reason. You can tell me.â You say and offer him a rare smile.
The tall man gives a guttural hum before saying, âItâs unsafe for you to go home at this hour alone.â
Ah, so thatâs what this is about. Heâs worried about you. But why now? Here he is wanting to keep you safe yet he brushed you aside in high school like you were a leech. What changed his tune?
âViktor Iâm perfectly capable of going home myself.â
He grunts disapprovingly and takes large steps closer to you making you freeze. His body is so close to yours now. Only mere inches separating the two of you. To look him in the eye you have to crane your neck up just because of his sheer height.
Ever so slowly he puts a large, roughened hand on your shoulder. His expression is sincere as he says, âKroshechnyy (Tiny) please. I canât explain why I did what I did in high school right now. The story is far too long and complicated. And I do apologize for leaving you all alone and casting you away. I donât ask for forgiveness, all I ask for is for you to let me make up for not being there for you.â
You take in his words wholeheartedly and nod in understanding. Viktor is mature, everything he does is with reason and comes with explanation. And there is no hatred in your heart towards him. You could never hate Viktor even if you tried. So you nod.
âOkay. I expect an explanation one day because Iâm worried about you. It⌠really scared me when you suddenly cut all contact. I donât forgive you but I wonât let our past affect our jobs. So letâs just take things slow and build our way to becoming friends again?â
Your answer made the stoic manâs heart soar above the atmosphere. All he can think of is that he has a chance again. He couldnât help but pull you into an embrace. An embrace heâs been thinking of for years. Viktorâs missed your touch, how your body melted against his as you cried into his chest when you ran away from home. Or how youâd cuddle against him while watching an R rated movie when you two werenât supposed to. Heâs missed you so so badly.
You on the other hand felt like you just got swallowed whole by a whale. Sometimes you forget how puberty hit Viktor like a freight train. Unlike when you two were kids his hugs now felt like you were being eaten. Your arms can barely wrap around his torso for goodness sakes! But this is getting really awkward for you so you pat his back with your hand.
âUhm can you let go of me now? Weâre not quite friends yet Viktor. I'm still pretty mad at you.â
The giant lets go of your smaller frame with the face of an injured puppy. Never would you have thought that an ass kicking brutality machine like Viktor would pout.
âIâm sorry. I just missed you a lot.â He mutters with his head down in shame.
"I understand that but you have to understand how I feel too Viktor. You really hurt me back then. So let's just keep our hands to ourselves yeah?"
He nods reluctantly and follows you out of the clinic and into the main gym. All the lights are off, only the ominous glow of moonlight through the windows provides light. Once you two arrive outside you both make your way down the sidewalk together. You didn't have a car or bike so you walked everywhere. It's unsafe but you can't afford safety.
"It's supposed to snow today."
"Huh?"
You look up at Viktor in question. "What did you say again?"
But at that very moment you felt the icy touch of a snowflake land on your nose. And seconds later millions of more flakes fell from the black night sky. Each flake was fat and heavy; not just little flurries of ice. No, this was real snow. And it was damn cold too.
"Oh no I should have taken the bus. Fuck." You curse to yourself. "I'm sorry for dragging you with me Viktor. Go head home now, I can get home myself."
"Don't say sorry. I asked to come with you. My fault." Viktor utters. But you don't hear him well. Instead you utter a quick goodbye and tell him to get home safe. You continue on your way home by yourself leaving Viktor behind. The snow rises on the sidewalk millimeters by the second making your walk more slippery and annoying.
When you arrive at the front door of your cheap apartment a wave of warmth washes over you. Maybe the cold has made you go numb and this is an illusion of warmth. Unlocking the door and going inside you stomp your shoes on the doormat to get the pesky snowflakes off. So does Viktor.
Viktor...
"VIKTOR?!" You shout and look up at him. Low and behold there's the 6'3 boxer right at your closed door. How could you miss him? He's fucking huge!
"There's no need to yell. We are indoors." He mutters and looks around at your messy apartment from where he stands like a statue.
Opening the door with a swing you put your hands on Viktor's chest and try to push him out. "Get out of my house! How did you even get here?!"
He looks at you plainly while you try to push his unmoving form out the door. "I said I would walk you home. Also this is an apartment, not a house."
The door shuts with a loud slam from the sheer force of your swing. "Quit messing with me! You can't be here Viktor! This is my hou- apartment!"
He just looks down at you and nods.
"Viktor! Ugh oh my god you're so freaking dense! I'm a woman." You gesture to your chest.
"I'm aware." He replies, eyes locked on your chest.
"N-NO! Stop looking at my chest!" He doesn't even flinch when you shove your palm in his eyes to make him look away.
"You wanted me to look at it."
"NO I-!" Your arms slap down to your sides. "Ugh... The point is that you can't just be in a woman's apartment. Especially without her permission! You're a man, I'm a woman. It's inappropriate."
Viktor quirks an eyebrow. "What are you implying?" His dark downcast eyes gaze into your own. A mixture of complex emotion stir within yours while there's only one in his.
Pure, Unadulterated, Affection
"Kroshechnyy." He hums gently and twirls a lock of your h/c hair in his finger. He's close, too close for friends let alone work acquittances. You can smell the shower gel and the dupe designer perfume on him. It's intoxicating.
But this is Viktor⌠the same man who one day cut you off and treated you like a stranger. You snap out of your daze and slap his hand away. "Stop that. We're not going there. You can stay here until the snow storm clears. But the moment the last flake falls I want you out."
He smirks and nods with a hum. "Thank you." Viktor hangs his jacket on your coat rack and steps further into your messy apartment. Not wanting him to trip in the dark you flick the light switch on.
Your living room is small. Small couch, small T.V, small dining table in the corner. Thereâs a tower of unwashed dishes in the sink and a bunch of medical textbooks on the table.
âI didnât know Iâd have a guest over so I didnât tidy up.â You say as you scurry around the living space to clear some of the clutter.
âHmm.â Viktor hums. Instead of standing like his usual still self he decides to help you clean, much to your dismissal.
âHey you donât have to do that! I got it.â
âHm.â
Heâs got it.
âNo no donât bother trying to clean that off, itâs been stained like that for months.â
âHm.â
The stain is gone.
It goes back and forth like this for half an hour until your living room is all tidied up. This would have taken you over an hour without Viktorâs help. And you feel bad for having him help but you canât help but feel grateful.
You two are seated at the table. As a subtle thanks to him you give him some left over beef stew which he devours under minutes.
âThank you for helping me clean up⌠I appreciate it.â You thank him shyly.
Viktor looks up at you from his empty bowl. âNo problem. Think of it as a favor between friends.â
The soft smile that grows on your face canât be helped. His words were just so sweet. Viktor really was trying to make up for the past. And you understand he canât tell you why he suddenly shut you out but you do know that the reason was likely for your own good. He did mention he got involved with bad peopleâŚ
But thereâs other issues at hand now. Like sleeping arrangements. The couch is tiny. No way could Viktor sleep on it. You however can kinda fit on it. Well, a quarter of your legs will be hanging off but itâs either that or sharing a bed with Viktor. And youâd rather not.
âSo sleeping arrangements. Iâll take the couch since you wonât fit and you can take my bed.â You say and put away his bowl.
Viktor follows you into the kitchen as you wash the dish. âNo. This is your home. You will sleep on your bed.â
âBut what about you?â You say slightly worried. If he sleeps on the couch heâll get some serious muscle pains. And that isnât good for him considering heâs a boxer.
âSimple. We share bed.â He smiles with a small dopey grin.
âAbsolutely not.â
âYouâre hogging the blankets.â
âĐĐžâ (no)
âYes you are.â
âĐĐžâ
âYou 6 foot bump on a log; I swear to god Iâll kick you off this bed and youâll sleep on the floor.â
âIâd like to see you try kroshechnyy. Also, I am 6 foot 3 inches. Get it correct.â
You groan and turn the other way. It was like you two were kids again, bickering and fighting over who got most of the blanket.
After a large yawn you mumble, âWhatever. Iâm exhausted so goodnightâŚâ
Viktor says nothing in return. After a little under half an hour though you begin to snore softly after succumbing to your slumber. Viktor on the other hand has been wide awake the whole time. Flat on his back he stared at the ceiling waiting for you to fall asleep.
And now you were.
He leans up slowly as to not rustle the covers too much. Your eyes are shut and your lips are slightly parted, a tell tale sign of deep sleep. Slowly and carefully Viktor gets out of the bed. He walks around to your side where you lay asleep and vulnerable. Dark thoughts come to mind. He could do anything he wanted to you. Youâre so small and weak compared to him. Thereâs no stopping him if he just picks you up and takes you home with him.
Scarred fingers gently brush against the plush of your cheeks. Theyâre so soft and warm.
âCute.â He thinks to himself with a smile. Everything about you was adorable. Your protective nature of people because youâre a doctor, your height, your smile, and your personality.
Viktorâs so proud of you. Heâs proud that you were able to make it out of the trenches of their east European town unscathed. Unlike him; he had to go through hell and back just to make enough money for food. He was never book smart like you. He was street smart, but street smarts didnât put food on your plate.
His hands wander to your bare collarbone. Why would you wear such a revealing night shirt in the same bed as him? You were the one going on about how he was a man and you were a woman after all. But here you are seducing him with that low rise silk night top.
âMy beautiful girl.â He whispers lowly while tracing over your skin with the tip of his finger.
âWhat do I have to do to make you mine?⌠Iâll do anything.â
âAnd I mean it.â
#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere x you#yandere imagines#yandere oc x reader#x reader#yandere oc#obsession#viktor markov#silassinclair
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âď¸ ââââââ đđŤđđ đŽđŹđ
âď¸ âââ PAIRING: BANG CHAN X READER X CHANGBIN âď¸ âââ CW: DOM!CHAN, DOM!CHANGBIN, SUB!READER, FREE USE, POLY RELATIONSHIP, MASTURBATION, FINGERING, UNPROTECTED SEX, CREAM PIES, DEGRADING, MANHANDLING, FILMING, CHOKING, DP, FINGER SUCKING, PET NAMES (BABY, DOLL, PRINCESS,), ALLUDES TO AFTERCARE âď¸ âââ WC: 2K âď¸ âââ NOTE: âď¸ âââ 18+ work!! minors and ageless/blank blogs DNI! you will be blocked, put an indicator on your blog somewhere that you are 18+ before interacting with this work/blog
     It was a stressful time for both of Y/nâs boyfriends. She knew it was when a comeback was on the horizon. They needed to put together all their songs with everyoneâs takes and with what sounded best. It would go into the early hours of the morning. Chan always brought work home with him anyway. But now more than ever.
     Even with the soundproofing in the twoâs home studio, she could still hear their frustration as Chan and Changbin went about mixing their tracks. Y/n gave them their space. Only bothering them to feed them so they didnât miss taking care of themselves. She felt bad she could only do so much for them. But both found a way for her to help them out.
     Changbin needed a break from the studio. Walking out into their kitchen and grabbing some water for him and Chan. Seeing Y/n in her own world cleaning up the kitchen with her headphones on. Unaware of his presence or the fact that he was eyeing her up and down since she was only wearing one of their hoodies; and it was barely covering her legs which made his gym shorts tighter.
     âI have an idea,â Changbin said as he came back into the studio
     âLet me hear it,â Chan sighed as he leaned back in the chair.
     âRemember last month when you, me, and Y/n were talking about exploring new kinks?â
     âI thought this was going to be about the song.â
     âIt wraps into it.â
     âAlright⌠and yes I remember the conversation.â
     âRemember what she said she wanted to try?â
     Chan thought for a moment, âFree use? Right?â
     âShe said last night she wished she could do more to help us.â
     Both boys looked at each other and reached a silent agreement. Texting her to come into the studio real quick.
     âWhatâs up?â Y/n asked
     Chan too had to eye his girlfriend up and down as she walked over to them.
     âRemember the other night when you said you wanted to help more?â Changbin asked
     âYeah. What do you guys need from me?â
     âLet us use you till we finish the album?â Chan asked
     Y/n felt her whole body heat up hearing the offer. âAre you guys sure?â
     âA hundred percent,â both said
     âDo you guys want me to stay in the studio or leave you guys alone till you need me?â
     âHow about you stay in here with us for today? Make it easier the first time?â Chan suggestedÂ
     âBe like when weâre at the company. Just chill while we work,â Changbin added
     âExcept weâll just fuck you when we feel like it,â Chan giggled
     âBedroom rules?â Y/n asked
     âBedroom rules. We know all of our yesâ and noâs.â Chan confirmed and Changbin nodded
     âOkay. Should I go grab anything from the bedroom?â
     âNo baby. Just go lay down pretty on the pull-out couch, maybe get yourself ready,â Chan said as Changbin got up and fixed the couch they had. Typically used for naps or when one of the kids was over and passed out.Â
     Y/n laid back on the mattress after Changbin fixed the pillows and walked back to his chair. The two looked at her for confirmation. They had never not made her cum when they had sex. But they honored her wish. They always gave in to what she wanted but rewarded her in the end.
     The two tried working. Bin moved a few things around and made Chan listen. Chan leaned back in his chair with a sigh as he took back the headphones. He couldnât keep his ears from picking up the small noises coming from behind them. The oldest looked back at their girl. Lying back on her phone with her legs bent up on the mattress and spread just enough so he could see her fingers dipping in and out of her little hole.Â
     He got up from his chair and walked over to the pull-out. Grabbing her ankles and pulling her to the edge, her sweater riding up and phone falling next to her as he did. Giving him a good view of her fingering herself and of her wet folds. Chan smiled as he kneeled between her legs.Â
     âOur little whore,â Chan smiles and pulled her fingers out of her. He pinned both her arms down onto the couch before sitting up and pulling his gym shorts and boxers down. Y/n watched his hard cock spring up before he wrapped his hand around himself.Â
     Chan pressed himself against her before pushing himself in fully. Bottoming out in one fell swoop. Y/n moaned as her walls stretched to accommodate him. Chan grabbed her hips and pulled out before harshly pushing in.Â
     âThere we go,â Chan groaned as he got to a fast and rough pace. Hips slamming into her as she bit her bottom
him.Â
     âChannie,â Y/n whined.
     âJust let Channie fuck his stress out on you baby.â
     Chan moved one of his hands up to wrap around her neck. Y/n gasped as his cock pistoned into her, which seemed faster now that he had a hand wrapped around her neck.
     âThere we go, baby,â Chan groaned as his dick twitched inside her.
     Y/n clamped her legs around his only for him to spread her open again, âMaybe we should have tied you up,â Chan smiled
     Chan let up on her neck a bit, letting her get some air in her lungs just as he knocked it out of her. âGonna hold Channieâs cum inside you, huh?â
     Y/n attempted to nod before Chan filled her with his seed. Painting her walls white before pulling out and fixing himself and going back over to the desk with Changbin. Y/n took a second to compose herself before she rolled over onto her stomach and grabbed her phone again. Trying not to focus on Chanâs cum dripping down her leg. Just scrolling through social media.
     She got lost in videos till she felt her bottom half being repositioned and turned to see which one it was. âEyes forward doll,â Y/n heard Changbins voice.
     Y/n turned back to her phone as he spread her legs and arched her back. Y/n scrolled down to another video before she felt his tip pushing inside of her. His hands grabbed onto the fat of her ass, spreading her cheeks apart and watching himself sink into her, some of Chanâs cum getting pushed out. Y/n dropped her head down, keeping her composure as he stretched her just a little bit more.
     Changbin didnât move for a moment. He always liked feeling her around him, even stressed out apparently. Y/n smiled as she lifted her head back to her phone as Changbin moved up to her hips. Pulling out and quickly pushing in again. Hitting hard in her, making her moan.
     Repeating his thrusts as his hips slammed into her. Y/n laid her head on the couch and dropped her phone in front of her. Changbin noticed and leaned over her, grabbing the phone from below and sitting up again. Opening up her camera app, propping her phone in front of her, and pressing record. Changbin sat up and grabbed the back of her neck, pulling her up a bit for the camera.
     âFuck Bin,â Y/n moaned, catching the image on her phone screen.
     âGoing to have a nice memory of this forever,â Changbin smiled
     Y/n gripped at the covers without luck. Bullying her cunt till he spilled inside her. Shoving himself deep inside her as he added his mix of cum to her insides before pulling out.Â
    He watched it drip out of her for a moment before tucking himself back in his pants and returning to his work. Y/n grabbed her phone after a moment and stopped the recording. Her hole clenched around nothing as both their cum dripped out of her.Â
     She felt a little high on the fact they were using her. The idea made her throb when she had originally brought it up. Now she couldnât wipe the smile off her face.
     Y/n laid back down on her stomach. Mindlessly scrolling or playing some game on her phone. Just waiting around for them.Â
     Eventually, both boys sighed behind her then she felt their mattresses dip down on both sides of her.Â
     âDone for the day?â Y/n asked them as she turned her phone off
     âJust with the tracks,â Chan said behind her and wrapped his arm around her waist.Â
     âWanna order in for dinner tonight?â Changbin askedÂ
     âSure. Means I donât have to cook,â Y/n smiled as she turned her body to him.Â
     Chan kissed the back of her head, both of them now pressing up against her. She wasnât unaware of the hardness against her and both their wandering hands. Chan groped her breast over the sweater and Binâs hand grabbed her ass.
     Y/n smiled at the boyfriend in front of her before he lifted her leg. Bring it up his waist before she felt Chanâs dick behind her. Rubbing between her folds, spreading their cum mixture around before he pushed into her again.Â
     âTake two more for us,â Chan growled in her ear
     âBeen so good letting us use you today,â Changbin said before he pressed his lips onto hers. Y/n melted into them. Continuing to let them do whatever they wanted to do to her. Chan thrust up into her from behind as she felt Changbin pull himself out of his shorts.
     Chan moved his hand that was groping her breasts down and bunched the sweater up above her breasts. Her chest pressed up against Changbins as he ran the tip of his cock over her clit.Â
     Chan slowed down his thrusts and Changbin pulled his lips away from her mouth. Chan took the opportunity to push two fingers into her mouth and Y/n wrapped her lips around his fingers.Â
     Changbin moved his tip to her hole currently being filled and slowly fucked. Tip poked her till he slipped inside with Chan. Y/n moaned against Chanâs fingers while Changbin hooked his arms under her thigh and pushed her leg up more. Both shallowly thrust inside her. Bit by bit they worked themselves into her while they rubbed up against each other. Letting their own moans and grunts fall into her ears.Â
     âForgot how tight it is when both of us are in her,â Chan grunted
     âShould do it more often so she can take both of us whenever,â Changbin suggested
     Y/n moaned in agreement as Chan pulled his fingers out of her mouth, resting his hand around her neck, not putting any pressure on it though.
     Both boys had to move slowly but Y/n still could feel both of them throbbing inside of her. She was sure they could feel the other too. Y/n dropped her head, resting against Changbinâs forehead.
     âFeel good baby?â Changbin asked
     âMhm,â Y/n nodded
     âSo good you canât talk now,â Chan said behind her
     âAlways so good for us,â Changbin replied
     Both of them tightened their holds on her as they got closer to their release. Y/n whimpered with each thrust they made into her. Chan grunted as his cum shot up into her again. Both Changbin and Y/n moaned as they felt his cum covering them. Changbin released not long after Chan finished and feeling the same effect. Both stilling inside her, catching their breaths, and coming down from her high.
     âGonna pull out, alright?â Chan told them
     Both nodded at his warning and Chan slowly pulled out of her. Y/n grabbed onto Changbin in front of her.
     âDid so good today princess,â Chan cooed in her ear till he popped out of her and it was just Changbin in her.
     âPerfect today. Binnies gonna pull out too, okay,â Changbin added
     Y/n nodded as Chan wrapped his arms around her tighter. Changbin slowly pulled out of her, Chan kissing her neck and whispering sweet nothings in her ear.
     âCuddles,â Y/n sighed
     âOf course,â Changbin smiled
     âHow are you feeling baby?â Chan asked, pulling her hoodie back down to cover her
     âGood,â Y/n giggled
     âLiked it?â Chan confirmedÂ
     âLoved it. Love you guys too,â Y/n said âCan we go again tomorrow?â
     âHow about you rest up and weâll see,â Changbin suggestedÂ
     âMâkay,â Y/n agreed as she snuggled up to the twoÂ
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Š 2024 MINNIESMUTT. DO NOT COPY, REPUBLISH OR TRANSLATE MY WORK ANYWHERE
#âžââââ [đđđđđ đđđđđđ]#stray kids#stray kids x reader#skz x reader#stray kids x reader smut#skz x reader smut#skz smut#stray kids smut#bang chan x reader#bang chan x reader smut#bang chan smut#changbin x reader#changbin x reader smut#changbin smut#seo changbin x reader#seo changbin smut#seo changbin x reader smut#âžââââ [ 2023; 12 days of kinks]
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