#i have work i need to do and notes i need to take and i miss my partner a lot ; ; ; ; ; ; ; ;

[pedgito]

𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒 | Harry Castillo x reader

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summary | Five years of being his assistant and five years of failed attempts at finding love with your help, but maybe the obvious answer has been there the entire time. Alternatively, you fucked your boss? Uh-oh.

author's note | harry...randy...who knows. i'll change it if needed but given the name tag, this is what i'm sticking with for now. skip the lecture about not writing until the movie is out, this isn't hurting anyone so don't bother me about it, xo. the horny demons always win. i listened to this song i repeat while i wrote, felt fitting.

content warning | 18+ MDNI, power imbalance (boss/assistant), work wife/work husband type beat, mentions of failed dating, being superficial, mentions of sugar daddy things, expensive gifts, reader is a godly assistant with a will stronger than mine, he smokes, they drink, sex while inebriated, he's down so bad, also oral!, tense morning after, open-ended

word count — 4.5k

You knew him better than anyone.

From his breakfast order down to his specific choice of underwear, like you weren’t making the weekly purchases and filling up his rarely used fridge in the apartment that was way out your price range, arranging his schedule down to the minute, booking his flights, packing his bag.

Really, Harry should just marry you.

…it was more of a joke, but you’ve teased him about it once or twice.

He called you his work wife anyways, but in reality, you were just his assistant.

He did trust you with his life, though.

More importantly, his love life.

“Kim flaked,” he tells you over coffee, perched at his kitchen island as you typed away on your laptop, looking up briefly with eyes that begged for him to explain, he does and makes a show about, mimicking a more feminine voice as he relays the message she gave him, “same song and dance—you’re great and fun but I can’t do anything serious right now,”

“Were you nice?” you ask curiously.

Harry rolls his eyes at that, like it was a stupid question to ask. But, eventually he nods.

“Did you ask questions?” you continue, fingers folding over the screen of your laptop to close it.

“Plenty, she works in finance, loves the color blue, wants to travel,” he could go on and on, throwing his hands up in defeat before they slump to his side, “maybe I should try out a real matchmaker—not that you’re bad at it—”

“You think I’m bad at it,” you smile knowingly, “don’t you?”

“No,” you’re unconvinced, “besides—you’re my assistant, I never meant for that type of responsibility to fall on you, you know?”

“I’m doing both of us a favor,” you remind him, “I think…it just takes time.”

And fortunately, all you had was time.

It felt pointless for Harry to spend a chunk of cash to have someone pair him up with the supposed love of his life, though you knew that money wasn’t a problem, you felt a weird responsibility to protect him, unsure how quickly someone would take advantage of his kindness.

“There’s a gala,” you tell him offhandedly, “next week. I already cleared your schedule for it. I think…maybe you should just peruse this time.”

“Peruse?” he chuckles, eyes creasing in amusement, his crow’s feet deepening with the emotion, “You’re a control freak, you sure about that?”

“That’s just mean,” you retort, “you’re paying me anyways—if you didn’t like it you’d fire me.”

He knew you were right, sipping quietly at his coffee in response.

He was frustrating, predictable, and painfully superficial. 

Every date was an exercise in appearances—perfectly tailored suits, dinner at the most exclusive places, charm turned up to eleven. And yet, none of it ever stuck. He was overcompensating and you weren’t sure why.

He was a good guy, down to his core, and in the five years you had worked with him there was never a moment you thought he didn’t deserve love, he was perfect. Too perfect.

That was the problem.

“You know, you’re like prime age to be a sugar daddy,” you tease him, knowing how he felt about the topic, “there’s plenty of apps that I can—”

“You’re relentless,” he grumbles, “if you ever did that, I’m firing you on the spot.”

“You wouldn’t,” it was a gentle challenge, smirk flashing across your face as he returned it with fondness, “without me you would crash and burn, Mr. Castillo.”

And he knows it.

–

The gala is a bust.

So, as a bandaid to his wounded ego, you order takeout and keep him company in his big, lavish apartment—it wasn’t the first time, it wouldn’t be the last.

You knew what the issue was, but there was a sinking feeling in your stomach that told you he wouldn’t receive the information well.

It was after every failed date, every expensive dinner.

They saw him at the surface, the charming man with an easy, warm smile.

You saw the man who kicked his shoes off and stripped himself of his suit jacket the second he walked through the door, who couldn’t resist a late-night binge of his newest streaming obsession, someone who insisted on stirring his coffee counterclockwise because it made it taste better, a man would text you pictures of squirrels in the park that he would feed on his way home.

It wasn’t that you were pining over him. You just knew him better than anyone.

“Why are you so dead set on marriage?” you ask him over dinner, turned toward him on the couch as he reaches for the remote to pause the show on screen.

He’s had this conversation before, but he’s never asked you any questions on the matter.

“What’s your opinion on it?” he’s avoiding, clearly, but you’ll bite.

“I don’t date, I’m not interested, signing a piece of paper isn’t going to signify my feelings toward someone if it came down to that,” you admit, “I’m not cynical, marriage is fine, but this stuff takes time,”

“Well, I’m not getting any younger,” Harry gripes, arms reaching over the back of the couch as he mirrors your position.

“Oh, please,” you scoff, “you’re forty-nine.”

“Almost fifty,” he corrects, “I’m ancient.”

“O-kay,” you sigh, “do you want honesty?”

“I’d hope you were being honest with me all the time.”

“No,” you laugh softly, “like…brutal fucking honesty?”

He’s silent, but attentive. 

“You keep choosing women who treat you like they’re next getaway vacation and you fall for it every time,” his forehead creases at the words, looking hurt by your words, “I see your bank payments every month, the activity—”

“It’s not like money is an issue,” he defends, causing you to sigh dramatically and fall back against the arm of the couch in faux distress.

“This is impossible,” you groan, staring up at the ceiling before you feel his hand circle around your wrist, tugging gently,

“Okay, I’m listening,” Harry says softly, pulling you upright, “I’m sorry—I am.”

“You want it to work so bad,” you tell him, “I see it—every time you approach someone you put on that smile and it works, but you’re giving so much and yeah, maybe some of them like that, but I’m sure a few would just enjoy a nice dinner here, or something simple. I think you forget to realize that someone can just be interested in you, for you, not for what you are or have,”

It’s profound, the way his face softens at your words, his touch still lingering around your wrist.

You’ve never even considered or entertained the idea that you might find Harry attractive or even attainable—for one, you had signed a contract that agreed to a professional work relationship, as a benefit for both of you, not that he ever had any intention to begin with.

You’ve been with him for so long, it feels, a fresh and young mind to help keep him active and busy, constantly refreshing ideas and helping him not feel like he was stuck, and you were damn good at taking care of him when he’s often tended to neglect himself.

The only thing you know is that he’s never looked at you like that.

Like you could see straight through him, all his flaws on display.

But, that was because you knew all of them.

You knew everything about him, even the worse bits.

His bad habits, his self-inflicting ones, everything that he refused to bring to the surface.

Harry’s fingers still lingered around your wrist, the weight of your words sinking in. 

But then, just like he always did, he broke the tension with a huff of laughter and frowns as he brushed you off.

“You just think I’m a sucker, don’t you?”

You shook your head with a faint smile, returning your arm to your lap.

“No—I think you like to see the good in people. So much good that you’re willing to ignore red flags.”

“Jeez,” he chuckled, clutching his stomach like you had physically wounded him, “that hurt.”

You shrugged and reached for the remote to resume the picture on screen, “You’ll survive.”

–

It was your day off—Sunday, the one day.

“Have you seen my cufflinks laying around?” he asked over the video call, “Shit—my tie, too. I can’t find it anywhere. I thought you said you laid it out for me.”

“No, I said I had it hung up and for you to lay it out before you showered,” you correct him, laying tiredly on your couch as you watched him search around frantically, hair damp and his bare shoulders on display, only catching the briefest glimpses of the towel around his waist as he turned the camera around, “Waitwait—go back!”

“There’s no fucking way you saw it,” Harry argues, “I’ve been looking for the last ten minutes—”

“In the pocket of your suit, the tie is there,” you tell him, “and given that you probably tossed the suit on the bed like you always do, the cufflinks are probably somewhere hiding under the blanket,”

He tosses you against the mattress, your screen succumbing to darkness as you wait, some shifting of the sheets before you hear him make a sound before he appears again, cufflinks pinched between his fingers and a look of defeat on his face.

“What would you do without me?” you ask with a cocky grin, finger hovering over the end call button as he shakes his head.

“What was this for again?” Harry asks curiously, laying you down upright as you caught a glimpse of his bare chest as he shrugged the crisp, white button down over his shoulders.

“It’s a charity auction, your favorite,” you chirp, “and you’re flying solo, so—don’t do anything stupid or…crass,”

“If I paid you double a day of work would you go?” Harry asks after a long pause, glancing down at the screen, “Triple?”

“Triple?!” you gawk, “see—you’re insane, this is what I’m talking about,”

He chuckles despite your response, “You’re good at keeping the sharks away,”

There were particular hawking businessmen who made it their mission to hunt Harry down at events and keep him occupied, eager to do business, whatever it may be—you were the unspoken master of redirection, as much as he refused to admit it.

“Can we grab dinner on the way?” 

“Burgers?” Harry asks, perking up slightly.

It was a constant go-to for you and him.

You nod through the screen, “Don’t even bother with the tie either, I’ll do it.”

–

“I can’t believe you roped me into this on my day off,” you whisper at his side, earning a half-smirk from him.

The charity auction was as lavish as you’d expected.

Crystal chandeliers, gold accents, and far too much champagne and hors d'oeuvres. 

Harry’s hand found the small of your back the moment you arrived, steering you through a sea of designer gowns and tuxedos, feeling uncomfortable in the tight dress and stilettos that you only wore on rare occasions, biting at your heels.

“You’ll survive,” he grins, grabbing you both a glass of champagne and pressing it into your waiting fingers, “I’m gonna…peruse, alright?”

“Don’t say it—that just makes you sound like a creep,” your face scrunches up in disgust as you sip at the alcohol, “just go—go, I’ll…handle everything else.”

The evening passed in a blur of small talk and polite smiles, but somewhere between the endless speeches and bidding wars, you found yourself on the balcony, the cool night air a welcome relief in the stuffy ballroom.

You smell him before you see him, the thick and rich scent of his cologne so familiar you swear you could find him on that alone, turning over your shoulder to see him closing the door quietly, cigarette pack tucked in his palm as he approached with a neutral expression.

“You okay?” you ask, leaning against the railing of the balcony.

Harry sighed, rubbing the back of his neck and then plucking a single cigarette from the box, “Honestly? I’m just tired of it.”

“The auctions? Charity?” you inquire, a small smile tugging at your face.

“All of it.” He looked at you, his gaze lingering as he lit the tobacco, “The events, the dates, searching for—I don’t even fucking know at this point,”

“The offer stands…” you say jokingly, though he knows exactly where this is heading.

“If I wanted a sugar baby I’d find one.”

Your eyes roam over his figure as he puffs at the cigarette, pulling a deep laugh from his chest before you’re pushing him away playfully.

“Let’s go,” he tells you with a deep sigh, stubbing out the end of the cigarette and tucking it away for later, tossing his arm over your shoulder as he readied to guide you through the crowd, always protective in spaces like this, another thing that was special to him.

–

The ride home is quiet, like it always is, both of you sitting in the backseat with the partition up, watching as he looked through his phone with a scowl, occasional typing and sending a message.

Eventually, he looks at you.

“Thank you,” He says with a soft tone, “I know this isn’t your favorite thing to do.”

You tilted your head into the headrest and smiled, crossing one thigh over the other as you worked at your heels to remove them, “Oh, it wasn’t that bad—the free alcohol is always a plus.”

He chuckled at that, silently helping you remove your shoes with a soft squeeze to your foot.

That was normal—but, it forces you to pause.

His natural instinct to help, to touch, to comfort you.

Your brow furrows at the gesture before you shake it away, blaming it on the buzz of alcohol in your system, watching as he continues the gesture with the other foot.

“Having you there makes it bearable, is all,” he explains, looking up at you briefly as he undid the tie around your ankle, “you…calm me, I guess.”

You swallowed. Hard.

The warmth of his words lingering in your chest, in his touch against your ankle, “You’d do the same for me.”

And he would—if you ever needed anything, anything, Harry was there.

“Yeah,” he agreed quietly, “without question.”

The sincerity caught you off guard. 

You turned to study him, the familiar slope of his nose, the line of his jaw. There was something about the way he looked tonight—tired, maybe, but softer. 

And he keeps looking at you, checking.

The car moved smoothly through the dimly lit streets, the city blurring past in streaks of gold and blues and reds. The hum of the engine was steady, the faint sound of music barely audible from the front, through the glass, the back lit up dimly by the trim of lights on the roof and door.

Harry leaned back, one hand moved against the seat, his other hand dragging slowly over his thigh—restless. 

Instinctually, without thinking, you reached for his hand.

It wasn’t purposeful. Just a simple act of absentmindedness.

You’ve done it a hundred times before. 

Tugged at his sleeves to fix his cufflinks, brushed lint from his lapel or pants, adjusted the collar of his shirts. Constantly fixed his hair, touching him wasn’t new.

His skin was warm. Not hot, not cold.

You felt the slight twitch of his hand, like he was debating whether to move. Instead, his fingers shifted, just a fraction, enough that the edge of his thumbnail brushed over the inside of your wrist.

The contact was thoughtless, nothing.

But, in the same moment, it felt like everything.

The way his eyes watched the movement, roamed your body like they had before but with a different implication, his eyes half-lidded and relaxed, wondering how much alcohol he had consumed himself—this wasn’t friendly.

And it definitely wasn’t professional.

Harry’s gaze was on you now, your face, as you couldn’t tear your eyes away from his hand.

Then his thumb moved. 

Up. 

Barely. 

A soft drag along your pulse.

It was half a decade of avoidance, defeat in his heart and mind, and fear in your own.

Broken, by the car rolling to a stop outside of Harry’s apartment building.

“We’re here, Mr. Castillo,” the voice of the driver came from the front, a nod of acknowledgement as his hand slipped from yours.

“Oh, hold on,” you were scooting aside to let him out, readied for the next stop as he cocks his head toward the building, “I’ve got something for you—I’ll drive you home, don’t worry,”

“Harry,” you stress, looking down at his hand that waves you toward him, extending out for you to grab, insistently as his fingers wiggle in wait.

Turns out, he wasn’t totally lying.

That something was accompanied by a seven thousand dollar bottle of Leroz Aux Brulees—you knew that because you had purchased it during his trip to France, the supposed city of love.

“I’m going to murder you,” you tell him as he places the bottle on the counter and keeps the closed case of mystery at his side, “hide your body, flee country—I hate surprises, you know that.”

“I think you’ll like this one,” he grins, popping the cork on the bottle and pouring two hefty glasses, eyeing the deep red as it glugged into the glass.

“You know, if you wanted company you could have just asked,” you tell him, “I get it, you’re lonely,”

He knows you’re only teasing but it stings nonetheless, both of you taking a long and heavy sip as his fingers swirl over the velvet casing before he’s pushing it over quickly, tapping it with his fingers, “Open it,” he encourages, eyeing you over the rim.

You place your glass down and pry it open slowly, carefully, like you were deconstructing a bomb, but as the piece inside comes into view you find yourself at a loss for words or thoughts.

Your eyes are wide, staring up at him with parted lips that tingled from the lingering alcohol, knowing you should have cut yourself off at one glass of champagne and refused to come inside, that you should have just went home and enjoyed what little bit of the day you had left to yourself.

Now, you were looking back at a necklace so delicate you were afraid to stare at it too long, embedded with a cluster of diamonds and nearly two years of your rent if you were doing the math correctly in your mind.

Always about the numbers, Harry constantly teased.

“I saw how you looked at it the other day,” he admits, “and I owe you a hell of a lot more, but it…I’m trying to say thank you for…being you,”

“I’m not taking that,” you refuse with a laugh of disbelief, sliding back over to him gently, downing the rest of your wine in one go to forget how fast your heart was beating in your chest.

“You are,” Harry insists, “consider it a bonus—Christmas is in a couple months, too.”

“You know…this is exactly that kind of stuff a sugar da—”

Harry makes a noise, shaking his head.

You bite your lip in thought, ignoring his subtle annoyance at your comment.

It was fucking beautiful, really.

You sigh, using one finger to turn the case back toward you, examining it closely.

Quietly, Harry presses his glass into the counter and rounds the edge toward you, his chest at your shoulder as he reaches for the jewelry, working carefully at the clasp before he’s motioning for you to relax your shoulders.

It wasn’t the stillness of the moment, but his touch, again.

He’s methodical in the way he touches you, dragging his hand around your neck as he fits the necklace into place, his fingertips pressing against the column of your throat in a way that tickles slightly, shifting uncomfortably until you hear the faint click and he breathes behind you, hands resting at your shoulders.

You’re not sure why he hasn’t moved, but you find yourself turning to speak.

“I’m just going to call an uber,” you tell him, “probably shouldn’t drive since we’ve both been drinking,”

“Yeah,” he agrees, but it sounds hollow, his eyes not following you as you move.

You hop from the chair and bend down to grab your shoes, but his hand is curling around your bicep and pulling you up and he’s staring again, the charge of his touch sending a jolt through your body as freeze,

“Come here,” he beckons, too natural.

And you listen.

He’s soft, every part of him. Skin, clothes, hair, lips.

He’s kissing you gently, like you might break, but you can tell he wants more.

Needs more.

“Are you going to regret this tomorrow?” you find yourself asking as he parts from you, licking at his lips as you both take a breath, letting the moment settle.

He shakes his head, “Are you?”

“Maybe,” you answer honestly, “maybe…not—fuck, I don’t know,”

“It doesn’t have to mean anything,” he promises, but you knew that was a lie.

Still, you nod in understanding.

–

He’s so tender with his touch, slipping you out of the dress in the dim light of his room.

Even softer as he guides you to your back and spreads himself on his belly between your legs, fingers interlocked with his at your hips as he buries his nose between your folds, his tongue splitting your cunt open in a sharp gasp that has you throwing your head back. His lips traced a slow, deliberate path down your body, igniting sparks along every inch of your skin. 

He kissed along the curve of your thighs, teasing, tasting, until the tension was unbearable and with each flick of his tongue, each gentle suck, it pulled you deeper into a haze of heady desire. 

This was reckless, dangerous, but neither of you found the moment to pause and think.

You wonder if things had been building to this for a while—if it was always supposed to happen this way or if he was acting off of greed; lust and companionship, even if just for a night.

You know you can ask him to stop at any point and he would, but even as his tongue brings you to your first orgasm of the night and he’s guiding you to your stomach, reaching blindly into his bedside table for a foil wrapping the crinkles loudly in the silence, you want this.

It was embarrassing how badly you wanted this.

He fucks you slow, too. 

It was torturous, his chest flat against your back as he palms his cock and feeds it into you.

You don’t talk, neither does he.

But, his low moans and stuttering breaths speak for him.

If you could see him, you’d know how furrowed his brow would be, a hand sliding over the curve of your ass until he can reach your thigh, beckoning for you to raise it without speaking.

You oblige, the angle of his thrusts changing on a dime.

“I can’t believe you’re real sometimes,” he admits like he’s confessing a sin.

“Please,” you plead—please stop talking, please keep going, please fuck me.

You couldn’t decide.

You feel him nod where his forehead is pressed between your shoulder blades as his fist curls into the sheet beside your head.

“Another, gimme another,” he pleads, the fingers on his other hand curling under your neck to life your chin, not expecting to meet his eyes as he leans over you.

The expression on his face so raw it makes you flutter around him, his lips parting in a deep, guttural groan, “I know you can,” he nods hurriedly.

And damn, does the praise work.

Your whimper breaks him, breathing out shakily as you locked eyes when he comes, slow and forceful thrusts until you’re nothing but an exhausted pile of tangled limbs.

“Greedy girl,” he comments through the haze, a weak giggle bubbling from your chest.

He pulls out slowly, a low grunt as he does so.

You’re not sure when you fall asleep, but you wake to a startling amount of weight over your stomach, an arm splayed possessively, the faint outline of a ring as you drag your hand over the limb.

It’s only as your eyes pry open that reality hits you, stumbling out of bed quickly.

No…nononono, where the fuck were your clothes? Jesus.

You stumble around half awake, searching for the silk dress on the floor, feeling accomplished when you find it and hastily redressing yourself as Harry stirs in bed, encouraging you to hurry, to slip out before he can say anything.

Your shoes are already on and you’re reaching for the doorknob when the voice comes, the weight of the necklace that still remained on your neck, two empty glasses of wine on the counter, a night of hasty choices and urgency laid out like a crime scene as his voice rings out from behind you, pleading.

“Don’t—don’t go,” Harry begs, “You don’t have to go,”

So much of this was wrong—it complicated everything.

Your life, your job, your relationship with him.

He can see you slipping, fingers inching toward the knob as he approaches you in a hurry, barefoot and shirtless, the kind of scene you shouldn’t be comforted with, like this was all normal to the both of you.

You’ve seen him like this a thousand times, but not when he’s looking at you so vulnerable, heart tore open and stapled to his chest, beating against your own as his hands splayed out over your cheeks.

“I don’t regret it,” he assures you again, “so please—stay, okay?”

“What changed?” you ask, voice trembling, “Five years, Harry. Five.”

“I’ve been running in circles this entire time,” he admits, “you know it—I know it.”

You had been there the entire time, learning every part of him without judgement, cataloging his flaws and skills, learning how he ticked and what motivated him. You had never quite settled on the ideal person to fit in his life as his partner, it surely wasn’t you.

It couldn’t be you.

“Please, don’t go,” Harry echoed once more.

The sick, cruel joke of it all was that this was your job. 

You had nowhere to go. If it was any other morning, you would just be arriving, leaving his breakfast in the kitchen and starting your day.

You nod solemnly, “Of course, Mr. Castillo.”

It was painstaking, forcing the mask back on.

But, you couldn’t deal with this now.

Or ever, even.

Harry looks at you with a confused sadness, thumbs rubbing at your cheekbones before his hands fall to his side.

You’d figure this out, you always did.

[midnight-shadow-cafe]

Heyyy! I had this rlly funny idea but the TF 141 separately (and maybe König, you can decide if you add him w/ the 141 fellas or not) with a reader that's like 4'11-5'4 (maybe shorter) who's really sassy and a big smart mouth, but is just so sweet to them, but will absolutely bite someone's head off if they tried something (they do say dynamite comes in small packages lol) I hope ur having a good day and if you don't wanna do this u can ignore meeee luv ur work <3

Small but Mighty

Pairing: Task Force 141 + König x Short Sassy Protective Reader

Warnings: Strong language, threats of violence (but mostly comedic), reader is a menace but soft for the boys, fluff, crack, mild innuendos, reader is short but acts like a guard dog.

Author’s Note: I relate to this, I’m short and sassy so this request was so fun. I loved it so much-

Summary: You may be small, but your attitude is huge. You’re fiercely loyal to the team, the first to bite someone’s head off if they so much as look at them wrong. But with the boys? You’re their sweet, doting little powerhouse—when you’re not threatening to fight them for teasing you, of course.

Masterlist

MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Simon first met you during a mission briefing, and it was like watching a rabid chihuahua getting ready to tear into someone. You were barely scraping 5’2” in combat boots, standing next to a man twice your size who had just questioned your skills.

"Listen here, you oversized fuckin’ tree stump," you snapped, arms crossed as you glared up at the guy. "I may be small, but I can still take you down in two moves, so shut your damn mouth before I put you on your ass."

Ghost, standing behind you, simply tilted his head in mild amusement. He expected the guy to laugh in your face. Instead, the man hesitated, clearing his throat before muttering something about just joking.

That was when Ghost knew you were dangerous.

But what surprised him even more? How goddamn sweet you were to him.

"Si, did you eat today?" you asked one evening after a mission, voice softer than usual. You were sitting beside him, legs tucked beneath you, hands busy cleaning your weapons.

Ghost barely had time to answer before you shoved a protein bar into his hand.

"Eat. Now."

He looked down at the snack, then back at you, unimpressed.

"You’re bossy for someone I could put in my pocket."

You scowled, jabbing a finger at him. "And you are grumpy for someone who clearly needs food."

Despite himself, he found himself smirking beneath his mask. He peeled open the wrapper, taking a bite while you nodded in satisfaction, muttering, "Damn right."

Yeah. You were something else.

——

John "Soap" MacTavish

Soap loved that you were a walking contradiction. One second you were cussing someone out for looking at him wrong, the next you were fixing his hair with the gentleness of a mother hen.

He thrived off riling you up.

"Oi, short stack," he called one day, smirking as you turned around, already glaring.

"What did you just call me?" you demanded, hands on your hips.

"Short stack," he repeated, grinning. "Like a pancake. Wee but fiery."

You stomped right up to him and jabbed a finger into his chest. "Listen here, Johnny, I may be short, but I can still take you—"

Before you could finish your sentence, he scooped you up and threw you over his shoulder.

You let out an indignant screech, kicking your legs wildly. "PUT ME DOWN, YOU MUSCLE-BRAINED MANWHORE."

Soap was cackling, patting your thigh. "You’re cute when you’re angry."

"I’M GONNA KILL YOU."

He eventually set you down after getting a few light punches to his back. But later that evening, when you checked in on him, making sure he was hydrating, making sure his injuries were tended to, he couldn’t help but grin.

You were his little menace, and he wouldn’t trade you for the world.

——

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Gaz thought you were the funniest person alive. He wasn’t sure how so much attitude could be packed into someone your size, but it worked.

Especially when you went feral on his behalf.

It happened at a bar, where a stranger had started getting way too handsy with Gaz. You, standing nearby, immediately clocked the situation and marched over, eyes blazing.

Gaz barely had time to react before you inserted yourself between him and the stranger, glaring up at the taller man like a pissed-off gremlin.

"Take your hands off him before I break all ten of your fingers," you snapped.

The man blinked. "And who the hell are you—"

You grabbed the dude’s wrist. Twisted just enough to make a point.

"I said," you growled, voice low, "take. Your hands. Off."

The guy yanked his hand back and bolted.

Gaz just stared at you, shook. "Damn," he muttered. "Didn’t know I had my own personal attack dog."

You turned to him, smile sickly sweet. "Only for you, babe."

The whiplash was insane. But he wouldn’t trade it for anything.

——

Captain John Price

Price thought you were adorable.

He’d never say that to your face—he valued his life too much—but he thought it.

You had this habit of defending him when you thought someone was being disrespectful.

One day, some new recruit made the mistake of talking back to him. Before Price could even react, you stepped up, arms crossed, expression like a storm cloud.

"That’s Captain Price to you," you said coolly. "Show some respect before I have to teach it to you."

The recruit, visibly confused about being threatened by someone a foot shorter than him, just mumbled an apology and scurried off.

Price chuckled, shaking his head. "You’re a menace."

You shrugged. "Just looking out for my old man."

His eyebrow twitched. "Old?"

You grinned up at him, innocent as a damn angel.

He sighed. You were gonna be the death of him.

——

König

König was, at first, terrified of accidentally crushing you. You barely reached his chest, and he swore you had to be some kind of mythical creature because how could something so small be so loud?

But then he saw you threaten someone for him.

It was during a mission when someone made a snide remark about his size, thinking he couldn’t hear. You did, though.

"Hey, dipshit," you snapped, whirling around. "Say that again, I fucking dare you."

The guy stammered, confused. "What—"

"You heard me. You got something to say about König? Say it to my face."

The man immediately backed down.

König stared at you, stunned. "You… defended me?"

You turned to him, expression soft. "Course I did, big guy. Nobody talks shit about my team."

His brain short-circuited.

Later, you noticed him being extra gentle with you, like you were something precious.

"König," you asked, squinting up at him.

"Yes, kleine maus?"

"…Are you petting my head?"

"Ja."

You sighed. "Fine. But only because you’re my favorite giant."

Hope you enjoyed! Please consider liking and reposting! -Midnight💜

[science-hoes]

Angel Kisses

Dr. Michael “Robby” Robinavitch x Reader

Warnings: graphic medical descriptions, needles

A/N: I thought this fic would be a little less fluffy and more spicy but I just can’t help it. Plus I love Noah Wyle’s barely there freckles. I feel like this isn’t my best work because I had severe writers block. Hope it’s good enough for yall tho 💕

My Ko-Fi :)

—

The Pittsburg Trauma Medical Center was rumored to be the 9th level of Hell. So when it was time for you to begin your schedule for trauma surgery, you prayed for a different hospital. Literally any other hospital.

But there you were, in the depths of the Pitt, working your fifth 12 hour shift of the rotation. Only 1pm, but you felt like someone had changed the clocks because there was no way that the day was only halfway done. You were reading a pediatric patient’s CBC results, getting ready to tell your senior attending for the day, Dr. Jack Abbott, that the child is anemic. But Dana’s voice distracted you:

“You can’t even stay away on your day off. Do you have a life besides the Pitt?” She said to someone out of your view.

“Trust me. This is a last resort.” You heard a man respond, the voice slightly familiar.

You turned around and saw Dr. Michael Robinavitch, the senior attending from your first four days of working here. He didn’t look too different out of his scrubs and navy hoodie that he wore at work. Black joggers and gray long sleeve athletic shirt that hugged his waist…really nicely.

“Last resort for what?” Dr. Frank Langdon called out from where he sat at his desk, charting his patient case.

“I fell of a ladder and tore up my back on the fence in my backyard.” Answered Dr. Robinav- Dr. Robby, you had to remind yourself. “I need stitches, but I can’t reach the cut.”

Langdon winced and leaned back in his chair. “Need me to stitch you up?” He asked.

Dr. Abbott walked up to the desk near Langdon and laughed. “No, he wants his friend to stitch him up. Right, Robby?” He joked, referring to himself.

Robby laughed and crossed his arms, biceps straining against the fabric of the athletic shirt. Damn. “Friend is a strong word. I don’t have friends.” He said with a smile.

Langdon scoffed. “We went fishing last weekend. What does that make me?” He asked.

“I prefer the term ‘coworker that I hang out with sometimes outside of work.’” Robby said, but you could see the teasing in the way his eyes crinkled.

Dana rolled her eyes. “You are all annoying me. Jack, go stitch him up so he can get out of here and rest.” She said before walking off to a patient room.

Robby shook his head. “No, no, just let a med student do it. Good learning opportunity.” He said.

“No med students today. Only interns.” Langdon mumbled as he continued typing on his computer.

Robby clasped his hands together and held them close to his chest. “Even better. I would love for my scar to be in a straight line.” He joked.

Abbott looked to you, who had been watching the group interact from a couple of desks over. Your face flushed slightly, realizing you probably look like an eavesdropper. He motioned with his head toward Robby. “Why don’t you take our patient to holding and fix him up? I’ll take the CBC results.” He said.

“Yes, sir.” You answered, almost a little too seriously. The Pitt was an intense environment, but these attendings did not have the same egos as the ones from your last several rotations.

Robby chuckled at your earnestness. “Hear that, Langdon? ‘Yes, sir.’ You should be taking notes.” He ordered facetiously, pointing his finger at the senior resident.

Langdon looked up from his desk as you began walking with Robby to the back of the Pitt where the holding rooms were. “You know, we tell all of our patients over 65 to be very careful when doing yard work.” He called out.

Robby shot him a bird without turning back around. You smiled at the banter, not used to the lax interactions between physicians of different ranks. Once you made it to the room, Robby sat on the bed, and you grabbed a standard suture kit.

“Is it on your back?” You asked, turned away from him.

“Yeah. I’d do it myself if I could reach it. I managed to cover it up though.” He said.

When you turned back around, his tight fitting shirt had been peeled off his upper body. Holy shit. In the last five days, you didn’t really give yourself time to fantasize about your attending. He was handsome for sure and charming when he wasn’t jumping down a resident’s throat (yet he still had the patience of a saint). His abdomen was well toned, and his chest was smooth. Not what you expected based off his hairy forearms and face.

You must have been staring too much because Robby’s shoulders hunched, as if trying to subtly cover his exposed body. “Let me just take a look at the cut.” You said, trying to come back to earth. You moved to the edge of the bed and removed the bandage that he had placed himself.

You could see the blood that had leaked through the dressing, but you were not prepared to see the extent of the cut stretch across the majority of his upper back. “Oh, shit.” You swore.

Robby chuckled. “That’s not a comforting thing to hear from your doctor.” He said, shifting uncomfortably as the cold air of the hospital struck the wound.

You shook your head in a panic. “Oh, no, I’m so sorry. I wouldn’t say that to a normal patient.” You covered for yourself.

Robby shook his head. “No, no. Listen. You’re taking everything a little too seriously. Just relax. Roll with the punches. That’s the only way you’ll survive down here.” He explained.

You nodded, taking in a stiff breath anyway. You disposed of the bandaging and picked up the lidocaine syringe. “Okay. I’m about to start injecting lidocaine around the cut. You’ll feel the burning more than the needle.” You said. You placed one gloved hand on his back, giving yourself a guide while you held the syringe in the other.

“90 degrees or 45?” He asked, making you freeze in place.

You paused for a moment, almost afraid to say your answer in fear of being incorrect. “90.” You answered.

“Why?”

At this point, the needle was hovering just an inch above your first injection site. “Recent studies show that patients report less pain with a 90 degree angle.” You said, confident in your sources.

Robby smiled, but you didn’t see it. “Very good.” Was all he said.

You injected the first round of lidocaine, and he hissed at the burning around the open wound. You kept moving around the cut, injecting small doses. “You’re doing great, Dr. Robby.” You praised, just as you would with any patient.

“Fuck, I say that to patients all the time. No wonder it makes no difference.” He grumbled.

You smiled slightly and injected the final dose. “All done.”

Robby let out a heavy breath, hanging his head as the skin slowly numbed where you worked. You began to open the suture kit and sort out its contents on the metal tray near the bed.

“What stitch?” He asked.

You grabbed some gauze and antiseptic from the drawer in the room before returning to his side. You cleaned the skin around the wound where the blood had dribbled down his back in a mix with sweat from working outside.

“Running stitch. The cut is long but not at risk of tension.” You answered. Robby nodded in approval. You carefully started on your first stitch, delicately inserting the curved needle into his skin. “So, you were on a ladder?” You asked.

Robby huffed in slight irritation. “Yeah. Trimming some branches that were reaching over the fence into the neighbors’ yard. I misstepped on the way down and lost my balance.” He explained.

You grimaced. “That sucks.” You said matter of factly.

“Yeah. Maybe Langdon is right. I’m getting too old for that kind of stuff.” He said with a chuckle.

Your hands carefully moved as they continued to sew. “You don’t look old.” You said.

Robby smiled to himself, not expecting you to respond at all. “You think so?”

“Yeah.” You said, glad he couldn’t see your involuntary blush. As you continued to stitch, you noticed all of the spots and marks that dusted his back and shoulders. “I like your freckles.” You noted.

Robby’s mind halted. It was a compliment he had never received. Your words went straight to his chest, and for the first time in a very long time, he felt flustered.

“My freckles?” He repeated.

You smiled and nodded. “Yeah. You got ‘em on your face too?” You asked.

Robby turned his head, not to present his face, but because he was still surprised and wanted to see if you were being genuine. And there they were. A light scattering of freckles across his cheeks and bridge of his nose.

“Yep. They’re precious.” You said after inspecting and returning back to your stitching. Robby’s face flushed, and you could especially see it in his ears as you worked. “You know, my mom used to tell me that freckles were angel kisses. Every time I got a new one, I thought an angel had kissed me. I went an embarrassingly long time into junior high before realizing it was just a tall tale.” You explained.

Robby smiled at the charming story, feeling an unusual feeling of comfort. “My grandmother used to say the same thing.” He said.

You grinned. “Looks like the angels couldn’t get enough of you then.” You teased.

Robby chuckled and ran a nervous hand across the back of his neck, careful not to pull against the skin as you worked. “How’s it looking back there?” He asked, trying to continue conversation.

“I need to run about five more stitches. Then you’ll be on your way.” You said.

He nodded and folded his hands in his lap. “Are you working tomorrow?” He asked.

You thought for a second, honestly not sure. “I don’t think so. My first off day since I started.” You replied. “Are you?”

“No. Seven on, seven off.” He said.

You pulled at the last suture and cut the remaining thread. “All right, Dr. Robby. You’re all cleaned up.” You announced.

“Great.” Robby hopped off the bed and stood up straight, popping a few kinks in his back from being hunched over. He towered above you, losing the intimacy that you temporarily had. “Take a picture and show me.” He said.

You pulled off your gloves slowly, unsure of how to respond. “Of the stitches?” You asked, afraid that he was going to grill you for sloppy suturing.

“Yeah, just to see the damage.” He responded.

You pulled your phone out and stood behind him. Fuck, even his back looked good. You snapped a picture and zoomed in to show him your work. Definitely saving that for later. “Does it look okay?” You asked timidly.

Robby nodded, impressed. “Actually yeah. Don’t think I could’ve done it better myself.” He complimented.

You laughed in relief. “Oh, good. I still need more practice on different suture patterns. I’m just lucky you were a simple case.” You said.

Robby looked down to you, letting his eyes linger as he watched you put your phone away. “If you aren’t busy tomorrow, maybe I can give you a masterclass. All ER docs have to know every suture.” He offered.

You looked up to him, suddenly very aware that he was still shirtless in front of you. You smirked and crossed your arms. “Sure. But only if you teach me just like this.” You said, looking him up and down. “You know, because you’ll need to let those stitches breathe.”

Robby grinned. “Wow. That was pretty smooth.” He admired.

You shrugged. “Just rolling with the punches.” You responded, repeating his quote from earlier. “Give me a call tomorrow.”

And you left. Robby stood there, smiling to himself. He pulled his shirt on and walked out to the desk hub. Langdon was still charting, but caught the attending before he snuck out. “What’s that goofy smile for?” He asked, even though he knew the answer.

Robby shrugged, hands in his pockets, unable to shake the smile off his face. “I don’t know.” He said before walking away to leave.

Abbott leaned against a desk near Langdon. “His ears are red.” He noted. “That motherfucker is in love.”

[bluebirdsfeathers]

Her Office

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Relationship: Ceo!Wanda X Butch!Loser!Reader

Summary: Wanda tried to get to know you a bit better before you start working together but an innocent question bring out painful memories.

Words: 2.1k

Warnings: age gap relationship (R is early 20s, W is like 40), Past verbal and physical abuse, Slight hinted at homophobia, Mommy issues bc i have them too, power imbalance?

A/N: sorry this took so long. uni is really kicking my butt right now and just when i thought i'd have time to write my research supervisor gives me a 400+ page book to read.

Inspiration

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

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──────･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

“I can’t believe you’re abandoning me… and for my sister!” Pietro joked as he helped you clear out your desk. You’d made yourself at home over the past few months working for him. You were sad to be leaving but excited to be working for Wanda, also incredibly nervous, like throw up into the recycling bin near the printer nervous. Not that that had happened of course.

“But seriously, we are going to miss you down here. Don’t go forgetting about us.” He patted you on the back handing you the last of your stuff.

“How could I forget you? I’ll be down here like every other day wont I? Wanda visits all the time.” you reply with slight confusion. Wanda was always coming down to check on things, like she must do with all the departments. You assumed most of your job would be to accompany her many visits around the building. Staying close and taking notes on what she says like you’d seen Theo do.

“Yeah, she definitely was just coming down here for routine check-ins.” Pietro mumbled with the faintest air of smugness of someone who knows something you don’t has. Before you could register what he said, the doors on the far side of the room swung open and in came Wanda.

 Her stride exuded confidence as she made her way over to you and your now empty desk. Her hair was slightly messy, shirt untucked, and instead of her usual high heels she wore flats.

“Got everything?” She sounded short of breath, like she had just been running. “The elevator to my office is being inspected so we’ll have to take the stairs.” Without another word, Wanda started walking back towards the door pausing to look behind her when she sensed you hadn’t moved. “Come on those 15 floors won’t climb themselves.” Suddenly her slightly dishevelled appearance made sense. You took a deep breath and gave one last look at Pietro, who seemed to be going to great lengths to not laugh at his sister, before following Wanda.

The stair well was in stark contrast to the rest of the building. Tall grey brick walls and bright white lighting. It seemed to also double as extra storage space judging by the stacks of boxes and pallets back here. You only seen them briefly while getting your monthly fire safety talks from a very unenthusiastic Dr. Banner, who once again felt the need to remind the group he had much more important things to be doing than this. As much as you found the man funny, he’s short temper made him a little scary at times.

People yelling had always been something you weren’t fond of. Your mom had always been so angry with you for not behaving like she wanted. The constant being told to sit, speak, and act ‘like a lady’ throughout your childhood had led to so many arguments. Femininity was just something you never had an interest in and the pressure to fit in from your family only made you reject it harder.

This never made the yelling easier, instead it had only made you desperate to avoid that sort of conflict. Wanda yelling the other day had scared you in a way you hadn’t felt since you were a child, and you were now desperate to make sure you were never on the receiving of her rage.

“Y/n, careful.” You had been so lost in thought you’d missed a step and stumbled forward. Wanda who had been talking non-stop about how inconvenient the elevator maintenance was stopped to help you pick up some pens that had fallen from the box you were carrying. “Do you need some help with that? It looks heavy.”

You saw this a challenge.

“No I’m fine, I’m very strong.” Wanda gave you a smile as she placed the pens back into the box touching your hand as she pulled away before turning around to continue climbing the stairs. Your face immediately flushed red.

“Only 4 more flights to go.” Her voice echoed off the bare walls was she turned another corner. You let out a sigh, the box was actually really heavy.

Once in her office you placed the box on an empty desk in the corner of the room. It was pushed up to the window and gave you an amazing view of New York. It was only then you realised how high up you were.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Wanda came up behind you making you jump slightly, all this achieved was making the red head chuckle slightly. “You’re so jumpy you know that?”

“I’ve been told.” You gave a small smile. Being alone with Wanda was terrifying and exciting all at once. The reality of the situation hadn’t really sunk in till just now. It was going to be the two of you, alone, very often from here out.

“Can I ask you something?” You nervously asked fiddling with the hem of your shirt not daring to look Wanda in the eyes. Her beautiful green eyes.

“Of course you can, darling.” Her final word rattled about in your brain momentarily making you forget what you even wanted in the first place.

“What you said, before,” Finally a coherent thought, “about wanting me, from the start. Was that true?”

“Yes, why would I lie.” Wanda raised an eyebrow giving you a no-nonsense look that you couldn’t if it was fully serious or not.

“No, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that! I just, why didn’t you? You know, pick me the first time?” It was definitely a word salad that came out your mouth, thank God you were better at writing than speaking. “I’m sorry I don’t mean to pry…” you added after Wanda took a second to respond.

“No, no, don’t apologies…” She took a deep breath as if debating what to say. “That first day, I thought you had potential,” she began, clearly choosing her words carefully, “I just wanted to, see if you had what it takes to you know, be mine.”

“Be… yours.” The words caught in your throat as swallowed hard, struggling to speak.

“Be my intern, my assistant.” Wanda rushed to clarify but something inside you felt like her previous words were more honest. Not that you would dare push her on it. “And being my intern comes with a lot of responsibility, so I hope you are ready.”

“Yes ma’am.” You say saluting the older woman, who found the action quite amusing. “What do you need me to do first?”

Turns out Wanda didn’t want you to do anything just yet. Instead the two of you sat across from each other in the strange living room area of her office. Wanda lent back into a large leather armchair while you sat on the edge of the couch, almost velvety, black sofa.

She offered you a tea or coffee but instead you opted for the remnants of the energy drink you had tried to chug on the train this morning. Your choice in beverage clearly wasn’t approved by Wanda but she did little to stop you besides remind you of their negative health effects.

She asked you questions about yourself, clearly wanting to get to know you better but you held back from answering her questions too honestly, scared of being fired or disappointing her which was somehow worse in your head. They were all basic questions, and you asked some back at her.

She wanted to know about your favourite meal, how to you travel to work, where are you staying, and when you were going to get some proper work shoes. Your real answer being when they made comfortable ones but instead you opted to say when you get your next paycheck.

Then she asked something that caught you completely off guard. “How is your relationship with your family?”

“My family?” You repeat to make sure you were hearing things right.

“Yes, your family, you are one of the only interns not from a known family in the city, you mentioned you aren’t from New York originally, they must be proud of you?” Wanda spoke with a warm smile.

You hadn’t noticed but during the conversation you had leant back into the couch. It was like she had given you permission to relax for a change. You didn’t understand why but talking with Wanda made you feel comfortable, almost too comfortable at times making you need to remind yourself she was your boss.

“They umm,” your mind went to the argument you’d had with your father when you told him you were going to university miles away, almost across the entire country, “can we talk about something else.” Your voice shook slightly at the memory.

How angry he’d been, how angry he always was. The same with your mother, always so resentful, never protecting you from him. You spent your first semester coach surfing with a black eye till you had enough money to afford to rent a shitty little apartment.

“Sweetie, it’s okay.” Wanda had seemingly caught on that something was wrong and moved to sit next to you on the couch. She placed her arm around you and pulled you into a side hug that made your whole body tense. “For what it’s worth, I’ve seen your grades and watched how hard you work. I’m proud of you y/n.” Her voice had the same warmth as earlier, it was sickeningly genuine to you.

All you wanted to do was melt into her arms, but you couldn’t this was your boss. She was just being nice, there was no way she would let you get that close to her under regular circumstances. You told yourself you wouldn’t let yourself get attached. You’d seen how ruthless she could be, and it terrified you to think of being on the receiving end. Catching feelings would just make your eventual fuck up ever worse.

Besides there was no way in hell CEO Wanda Maximoff, multimillionaire Wanda Maximoff, Old enough to be your mother Wanda Maximoff would ever have feelings for you in return.

“I need to go to the bathroom.” You stood up as quickly as Wanda grip on you allowed. “Sorry.” You hurried to the small bathroom in the corner of the room, locking the door behind you before allowing yourself a moment to cry.

Cruel words from you parents fought the gentle reassurance Wanda had given you. You took a moment to collect yourself. Taking several deep breaths and trying to get rid of the redness in your eyes with a little cold water from the tab.

The bathroom, like everything in Wanda’s office screamed sophistication. The mostly white tiles with the smallest hint of red complemented the plush red hand towels, and several well looked after plants littered a shelf above the toilet. Most surprisingly was the shower and clawfoot tub in the room. Did she actually use them? Or where they just there because they could be?

Finally you were ready to leave the bathroom, stepping out you saw Wanda quickly look away from your direction. Had she been watching the door the whole time?

“Y/n, feeling better?” you gave a weak nod. “Good, right back to business then, first order is sorting out… this.” She pointed towards you clothing. Since Pietro had never required you to dress professionally, you had never updated your wardrobe. You wore the same baggy, teen boy esc clothing you always did.

“Yeah, I thought that would be a problem, sorry about the way I dress. I just…”

“No I like the way you dress.” Wanda cut you off. “I mean, you dress fine, it’s just not… appropriate if you are going to be accompanying me to important meetings and such.” You couldn’t tell if you were imagining it, but you could have sworn you saw a small blush creep onto the older woman’s face.

“Right, there should be a measuring tape in the third draw of the left cabinet in my office. I have some work to get on with you can’t help with.” Wanda began quickly pressing the button of the, hopefully, now working lift.

“I want you to measure yourself and note it down. I’ll sort you out some more work appropriate clothing.” Before you could ask any other follow up questions the doors to the lift opened and she rushed inside, disappearing almost immediately.

Walking into Wanda’s office you looked out at the city, everything seemed so quiet, so still from all the way up here. Grabbing the measuring tape you sat down at your desk, getting your phone out to look up exactly what measurement you need to give her. You’d never had to think about measurements when buying clothes before. Your face flushed a bit think about the idea of Wanda choosing you some clothes. Hopefully she wouldn’t put you in a pencil skirt, or God forbid heels.

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Tag list: @wandaslittlehorns @starfire1008 @mirage018 @viosblog112 @nebthetautora @ciaoooooo111 @cowboy-hunter @htinha157 @the-falling-avenger @reginassecretlover @canyonyodeler @mrsromanovaa @loneliestafterparty @imawandasimp @caramelcat123 @marvelwomen-simp @reginassweetheart @unadulteratedballoonduck @kei034 @coollemonsaresour 

[smileysuh]

eat it

🌙 starring. Jaehyun x afab!Reader 

🔮 preview. “I mean, what if we make a deal? For every ‘A’ you get on these three tests in November, I’ll eat you out till you’re begging me to stop. And in December, if you pass your physics final with a grade above eighty-six percent, I’ll fuck your brains out.”

tw/cw. Unprotected sex, pussy eating, foreplay, face grinding, dry humping, breast worship, fingering, squirting, dirty talk, using sex as inspiration to study, no nut november, blue balls, dirty talk, praise, multiple little sex scenes, big dick Jaehyun, slight phone sex, mentions of masturbation, teasing, etc… I pet names: (hers) baby.

👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 4.5k

🍭 aus. Uni au, fuck buddies to lovers, no nut november, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. Short but sweet :) was missing Jae

One:

Jaehyun can tell something is off with you, and despite you being someone he holds at a distance with the label ‘fuck buddy,’ he actually cares about what’s going on in your head, especially when it’s clearly taking away from your enjoyment of him.

He’s not the type to bring something up mid fuck session, but when you both finish, he takes the opportunity to address it.

“You seemed distant today,” he notes.

You release a deep sigh. “November is coming up, I’ve got three big tests and then finals in December, and I’m just… I’m feeling overwhelmed.”

The two of you had decided to keep a purely physical relationship with the idea of focusing on school. You both feel as if you’re too busy with your studies to put as much effort into dating as you’d like, so you’d come to an agreement to fuck whenever you’re both needing it, and keep other things as surface-level as possible.

Despite this arrangement, Jaehyun knows he would be the biggest asshole ever if he didn’t act as at least a friend to you. He has massive emotional walls that he keeps fortified, but there’s no harm in checking in with you. Besides, stress relief is a cornerstone of your relationship, and if his cock couldn’t dristract you from the issues in your life right now, maybe being an avid listener can. 

“What class?” he enquires.

“Fucking physics,” you groan, falling back against your bed and covering your face with a pillow.

There’s a reason Jaehyun had chosen Marine Biology instead of a more mathematics-based science when he got to university. Hell, the intro to physics class in first year had nearly killed him, so he understands where you’re coming from. 

“Well…” Jaehyun swallows thickly. “My frat is doing the whole ‘No Nut November’ bullshit, and we both know I don’t like to lose… but just because I can’t fuck you to destress you, doesn’t mean I can’t eat you out and make you cum as a reward for doing well in classes.”

“Huh?”

Jaehyun laughs, shaking his head. “I mean, what if we make a deal? For every ‘A’ you get on these three tests in November, I’ll eat you out till you’re begging me to stop. And in December, if you pass your physics final with a grade above eighty-six percent, I’ll fuck your brains out.”

You stare at him, the cogs of your mind working clearly behind your inquisitive eyes. “What if we agree on an above eighty average instead of eighty-six?”

“Nah, has to be eighty-six, what kind of floozy do you think I am?” Jaehyun jokes.

“Uh… the kind that just dicked me down without me needing an eighty-six average?”

Two:

It’s November, and while the idea of using Jaehyun as encouragement to study had seemed like a good plan to begin with, you find yourself distracted by the notion of him. Numbers and calculations give way to thoughts about the frat boy studying marine biology, and after struggling with it for an hour, you give yourself a breather to unpack everything.

You and Jaehyun have had an on-again off-again fuck buddy relationship for a little over a year now, and in that period, you’ve fucked only a handful times. With Jaehyun, things are strictly business. There’s not much foreplay, not much chit-chatting- it’s entirely about you both getting your rocks off as stress relief, then going your separate ways.

There’s a part of you that’s always thought extensive foreplay is less of a fuck buddy type of deal, and more of a budding relationship experience, which is why it’s generally been off-limits.

Having a man’s dick in you is one thing, having his mouth on your pussy while he’s neglected, looking up at you and doing his best to make you cum without any pleasure for himself- well, that’s something else entirely.

Neither you nor Jaehyun like to be selfish in this arrangement you have, it’s always a mutually beneficial interaction.

But… if you let him eat you out for doing well in physics… if he doesn’t get to cum or be touched at all… then that’s you being selfish, and the flip side is, he’s being selfless with you. 

Selfless has never been a word you connect to the idea of fuck buddies- and sure, some men love eating out women, some men get super turned on from that, but… you worry you’ll just be blue-ballsing the poor man. 

You never want to blue-ball Jaehyun. Despite your relationship being surface level - except for when he’s buried in your guts - you care about him. And you think it’s this care that has made you put up walls.

You’d agreed when you’d met that neither of you wanted a relationship. You wanted easy sex when it was convenient to you both. No strings attached, no emotions, no foreplay- although, that last caveat was never something verbally agreed to or discussed, moreso of an offshoot of the entire arrangement. 

In an odd way, letting Jaehyun eat you out while he gets nothing in return will be a new stepping stone for your dynamic, and you’re not quite sure where the path it creates might lead. 

Three:

You open your door with a grin, holding your most recent test in your hand. Before you can even tell Jaehyun the good news about your eighty-six percent - on the dot, mind you - score, he’s grabbing you and pressing his lips to yours.

A laugh tumbles out of you as you drag him into your apartment, kissing him back eagerly while the door shuts.

He feels so good, and your body immediately reacts to him, your nipples pushing up against the fabric of your thin night shirt. Jaehyun notices, because his hand comes up to cup your breast, his thumb brushing against the bud and making you moan.

When his lips move to your throat, you take the opportunity to speak. “You don’t even know what score I got on my test.”

“You wouldn’t have called me over if you didn’t get an eighty-six or above,” he notes, breath hot against your neck as he licks at your sweet spot.

“What if I brought you here to beg, to plead for that eighty average to be acceptable?” you tease.

“Begging is really not your style,” he insists, his hands moving down to your sleeping shorts to roughly tug them down.

“Looks like I won’t have to beg for this, though.”

“A deal is a deal,” Jaehyun tells you in the most earnest tone, and it makes you giggle.

“Let’s go to my bedroom.”

“No, I’m eating you out here.”

A moment later, he’s lifting you, setting you onto your kitchen island. The cold surface feels good against your hot skin, and it’s hard to breathe properly as Jaehyun pushes your thighs open.

“Lay down,” he instructs, “and let me give you your reward.”

Four:

“So… This time, I got a ninety,” you tell Jaehyun, holding your phone close to your chest so he can hear you clearly as you meander around your apartment.

“Well, look at you go.”

You can hear the smile in his voice, and it has your body tingling with excitement. “When can you come over?”

“Just finishing up a few things,” Jaehyun explains. “How about nineish?”

“But that’s a whole four hours away!” you groan.

“Somebody is eager.” 

You swallow the lump in your throat. “I was sitting in class and taking the test and all I could think about was your mouth.”

“Yeah?”

“Was getting so wet while doing fucking physics calculations- thinking about your tongue, and the way you hold me down when I cum. You’re a guy who just knows how to eat it, and it’s kind of making me go crazy.”

“Did I mention I’m at the gym right now?” Jaehyun asks, releasing a choked cough.

You grin, moving to sit on your couch. “Gonna sport a stiffy while doing bench presses, Jae?” 

“Pretty close to that, yeah.”

“All I’m saying is- you could be a great tutor, if you gave out sexual favours to all the cute girls who need help.”

Jaehyun laughs. “I feel like that would put me on a career trajectory that has nothing to do with marine biology, and I’m not spending all this money every year just to not use my degree.”

“True, true,” you sigh. “Anyways, I guess I’ll be waiting to see you at nineish.”

“Try not to touch yourself before I get there,” Jaehyun warns. “Or it defeats the purpose.” 

Five:

You’d been shocked to discover upon receiving your third test back, that you had somehow managed to score the highest in the entire class. And now, you’re even more shocked to find that Jaehyun has a few cunnilingus tricks up his sleeve that he hadn’t shown you in your first two strictly oral encounters.

His face is buried between your thighs, his lips wrapped around your clit while his fingers are pumping into your wet core. He angles his digits upward, crooking them in a way that has your whole body tingling-

He’d told you he wanted to make you squirt, you know, as a real celebration after your high marks, and at first, you hadn’t quite believed it would happen.

You’ve never squirted, and no man has ever taken the time to work that sort of thing out of you-

Yet here you are, feeling the first few dribbles splooshing out of your core and onto Jaehyun’s fingers.

It’s an intense pressure, but a completely welcomed one, and it makes your entire body tense with pleasure as he continued to finger fuck wetness out of you, his mouth never leaving your clit.

The sounds you’re making are obscene, but you can’t help yourself, can’t bring yourself to care about noise complaints or people hearing you-

You deserve this after scoring so well on your physics test, and you’ll be damned if you tell Jaehyun to stop or slow down.

“Fuck,” Jaehyun groans, pulling away from your clit to look down at you. “That’s it, baby, let it out.”

God, his dirty talk? It’s gotten better- or maybe you were both just not very verbal before, maybe when things were strictly business you were both holding back a lot of talents in the sexual scheme of things.

You release a whimper, more squirt gushing out of you and onto his hand.

“You look so fucking hot like this,” Jaehyun tells you, his mouth returning to your clit.

The past few times, losing yourself to him eating you out had been easy- but this time, you’re aware that finals are looming on the horizon. You’re not going to see Jaehyun for a couple of weeks, and after pleasure like this, you’re not sure you have the patience to wait that long.

You’re also keenly aware that this will be the third time Jaehyun leaves your house with blue-balls, and while he doesn’t make a big deal about it, you still feel bad.

This whole thing has definitely gotten more complicated, and you have the sneaking suspicion that when finals are over, and you finally get to fuck- they’re going to get a whole lot more confusing.

Six:

Jaehyun is about four hours into studying for his marine biology final when your ringtone sounds through his room.

He releases a groan, because sure, you’re a welcome distraction- but the mere thought of you is enough to give him a half chub and about two hours of distracted thoughts.

“Hey,” he sighs, answering his phone and putting it on speaker next to his text book.

“Hey,” you respond. “Studying?”

“Yup, you?”

“Trying to study,” you release a deep breath. “So… No Nut November has been over for a couple of days, how are you feeling?”

Jaehyun groans, putting his head in his hands. “Like I’m about to bust.”

“So come over?”

Jaehyun’s gaze turns to his phone. The temptation is overwhelming- and he can almost imagine how good your wet pussy is going to feel around his cock- how big his load is going to be when he buries it deep inside of you-

“We both know I can’t do that,” he sighs.

“Why not?”

“I told you, I’m not a floozy.” Jaehyun can’t help the chuckle that escapes him at his own words. He kind of enjoys this whole teasing game of not being the guy who puts out unless you do well on tests. He also kind of enjoys it when you release an irritated sigh.

“Be serious,” you insist.

“In all seriousness,” Jaehyun says. “We both know we can’t see each other until after our finals in three days.”

“But three days is so long away! That’s like seventy-two hours from now!” 

“You’re not going to be awake for all seventy-two of those hours though,” Jaehyun grins.

A grumble escapes you. “You know what I mean.”

Jaehyun can feel his cock beginning to rise in his pants, and he knows he has to cut this call short-

“Well, if you’re not going to come be my stress relief, maybe I’ll have to do it myself,” you tell him.

“Huh?”

“I’m rubbing my clit right now, and you wouldn’t believe how fucking wet I am for you. Been thinking about you for hours.”

“Fuck,” Jaehyun groans.

“It would be an awful shame if you didn’t come and fuck me stupid.” 

“I’ve got to go,” the marine biology major says, and it takes every ounce of his determination for the words to leave his lips.

“For a frat boy, you can be such a prude, Jaehyun.”

“I’m just focusing on something we both agreed a year ago. We both said school comes first. We both said grades above sex, and I’m just keeping us both in line with that intention.”

“I’ll try not to be too upset about this, because you’re right, and I hate that you’re right,” you sigh. “Good luck studying, I’ll see you in seventy-two hours.”

You hang up, and Jaehyun lets out a breath he hadn’t even known he’d been holding.

He looks down at his rock hard cock, which is pressing up against the fabric of his sweat pants, and with one last surge of determination, he goes back to his text book. 

Seven:

You finished your final two hours ago, and you’re now just laying on your couch. Your mind is pretty much blank, your body exhausted- and that’s when there’s a knock on your door.

You release a groan, forcing yourself to your feet.

While you know you’re going to see Jaehyun sometime soon, you definitely don’t expect him to be on your doorstep, and you’re at a loss for words as you stare at him.

“How bad was your final, baby, you’ve got a whole ‘thousand yard stare’ going on,” Jaehyun grins.

“You’re here,” you force out, so shocked that you still don’t know what to say.

“I’m here, and even though your final is done, it looks like you need stress relief.”

A tingle rushes through you, and you nod eagerly, pushing your door open wider so he can enter your apartment.

“How- how was your final?” you ask.

“Wasn’t so bad,” he shrugs, “And don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying marine biology is easy, but it’s not physics.” 

“Jae?”

“Uh huh?”

“I’m so exhausted.” The words come out of your mouth and you break a little, your shoulders slumping. “I won’t have results for a couple of weeks and I don’t know if I did well, and I know you have this whole, ‘I’m not a floozy’ running joke thing-”

“Baby, I’m here to fuck you, don’t worry about getting an eighty-six percent, I’m taking care of you right now even if you failed. Do you think you failed?”

“I don’t think so-”

“And you were highest in your whole class on the last test, so let out a breath, shake off the anxiety, and for the first time in two months, let’s just enjoy fucking, okay?”

“Okay.”

You let Jaehyun grab your hand and he leads you to your bedroom. Once there, he begins to kiss you. He cradles you against his chest, and it’s the most passionate lip lock you’ve ever shared with the marine biology major.

His hands stroke your body, and it’s not some quick tearing off of clothes- no, this time, it’s clear he wants to go slow. 

You stroke his muscles, massaging his shoulders through the heavy fabric of his hoodie. The motion makes Jaehyun groan, and he removes the layer, tossing it onto the floor before wrapping you in his arms again.

One of his hands moves to cup your cheek, and he slowly guides you to your bed. He lays you down before getting on top of you. Your thighs wrap around his hips, and you groan at the first amount of pressure on your sleeping short covered core.

The kiss deepens, but it’s not the kind of erratic and eager lip lock, it’s calculated, passionate, and in a way- loving.

Jaehyun cares about you, of that, you are certain. He cares enough to make this experience an act of worship, of self care, to balance out the absolute shit show that was your physics final, and you really appreciate the attention to detail that he’s putting into this.

His hand slips under your shirt, toying with your breast.

You’d been planning on having a nap, so you’re only wearing a shirt and shorts, no underwear or bra, and the sensation of his fingers playing with your nipple is the most relief you’ve had in a week.

You whimper, breaking the kiss to wiggle under him, hoping for more pressure on your pussy.

Jaehyun’s lips move to your throat. “Proud of you,” he whispers. “I’m sure you did well today.”

You don’t even know what to say, all you can do is moan in response, your brain too fried from your exam to think of words.

“Gonna get you naked,” Jaehyun tells you next. “You good with that?”

“Yes, please.”

Jaehyun pulls away, adjusting so he can slip your shorts off. You work on your shirt, and in moments, you’re naked for him. Then, Jaehyun begins to strip, joining you in nudity before getting onto the bed again.

His lips find yours, and his hand slips between your thighs. His fingers tease your clit, making you whimper against his lips.

If this was Jaehyun from three months ago, his cock would already be inside of you, and you’re reminded again that a November full of foreplay has changed your relationship. He’s more caring with you now, and you kind of love it, especially after the day you’ve had.

His digits slip into your pussy, working you open, and his palm continues to put the right amount of pressure on your clit.

His mouth moves to your throat, giving you space to moan and fill the room with sounds of pleasure.

He begins to do the motion he did when he made you squirt, and soon, that pressure in your abdomen is reaching a breaking point. You can feel the small gush as it wets your inner thighs, pleasure consuming you with the release.

Jaehyun descends to your breasts, sucking on your nipple gently before continuing to kiss down- he gets all the way to your pussy, and he pulls out his fingers in favour of licking your slit.

You whimper desperately as he takes position between your thighs, hands massaging the muscles there and keeping you pinned as he eats you out.

When you look down, you notice his eyes are closed. He’s fully immersed in the act of pleasuring you, and it makes everything feel better.

You give in to the sensation, mind going blank, body going numb except for the feeling of intense pressure that’s beginning to build in the pit of your stomach.

His lips suction around your clit, tongue flicking the sensitive bud, and your own hips begin to wiggle. You’re grinding down against his face, breathing hard as your orgasm becomes closer and closer-

There’s a difference between squirting and a clit orgasm, and while squirting had felt really good, this is about to feel even better.

You try not to put pressure on yourself, and that’s something you’ve learned this past month with Jaehyun.

He could stay between your thighs for half an hour and not get upset that you haven’t cum yet- however, you know it won’t take that long.

You give in to the feelings in your body, focusing on the pleasure as it builds and builds-

“Jae,” you whimper. “I’m close!”

He growls against your clit, sucking even harder, and that’s when you explode.

You release a gasp, the tension in your abdomen snapping as your clit begins to throb, sending delicious pleasure surging through your entire form.

Your thighs threaten to close around Jaehyun’s head but he holds you steady, working you through your orgasm.

The feeling of his tongue on your core isn’t one you ever want to give up, and Jaehyun’s the type of man who doesn’t like to lose- no, he continues to eat you out until you’re finished, until you’re pushing at his head, begging for his cock.

“Please, Jae,” you whimper. “I need you so bad.”

“I need you too, baby,” he nods, swallowing thickly as he adjusts on the bed, getting between your thighs again.

He looks down at you as he positions the head of his cock against your pussy. 

There’s a wordless agreement between the two of you as you stare into each other’s eyes, and Jaehyun slowly pushes into you.

You gasp loudly at the stretch, grabbing at his shoulders to steady yourself.

Nothing but fingers have been inside of you for a month, and the stretch is perfect as Jaehyun’s large cock fills up your core.

“Good?” Jaehyun asks with a grin.

“So good!”

His lips find your throat, and he sucks on your sweet spot, making you grip his shoulders even tighter.

Nothing has ever felt this intimate. You’re clinging to Jaehyun like a life line, your hearts trying to push through your pressed ribcages to meet, as if they were always meant to be one.

There are a thousand emotions bubbling up inside of you, but none of them can be vocalized, all you can do is pant in his ear as he lavishes on you, taking away all your stress. 

He begins to fuck you, starting slow as your body adjusts. You can hear him groaning as he licks your sweet spot, the muscles of his shoulders tensing with effort as he holds himself over you.

You get the sneaking suspicion that he’s very much holding back- that this slow build up is torture for the man who hasn’t gotten his cock wet in over a month.

“Let go, Jae,” you whisper, stroking his hair. “Fuck me stupid, you promised you would.”

Jaehyun releases a groan, pulling away from your throat to look down at you. “After all of this, we need to talk.”

“Huh?” your heart sinks in your chest.

“It’s nothing bad,” he’s quick to assure you, obviously having read your scared expression. “Just, fuck- look, I’ve been thinking- this month has proven we can get good marks and also be fucking, be more than fucking- and I just- I was thinking maybe we could try actually dating, if you wanted.” 

“Jae-” your voice cracks.

“You don’t have to answer now-”

“Let’s do it,” you nod. “I want to try that with you.”

“Thank god.” You can practically see the relief in the way he exhales, and then he presses his lips to yours, beginning to fuck you even harder.

You wrap your arms tight around his shoulders, kissing him deeply as he rails you. Your whole bed is shaking with each powerful thrust, and the pleasure of his cock inside of you mixes with the emotional ecstasy that had been triggered by the notion of dating.

You seriously feel like you’re on cloud nine, and it’s such a massive contrast to how you’d felt even an hour ago.

This man can change your entire mood, and you kind of love that. All your stress has melted away, because of his targeted effort to lift you back onto your feet after such a devastating final exam. 

He cares about you, you can feel it in the way his hips move, the way his lips caress your own. You can even hear it in his deep groans, all his inhibitions going out the window as he gives himself to you completely.

There’s also something to be said about fucking missionary.

When you’d first had sex, you’d done it doggy, not wanting to be staring at each other, not wanting to feel too emotionally connected as you looked into each other’s eyes-

So much has changed in the best possible way, the two of you pressed chest to chest, pressed so tight it’s as if you want to consume each other.

You’re connected, like puzzle pieces, and each thrust has Jaehyun hitting a spot deep inside of you that makes you feel so completely whole.

You’re both gasping into your kisses now, the tension rising by the second-

“Fuck, I haven’t cum in so long-” Jaehyun groans, breaking the kiss to press his forehead against yours.

“Then fill me up, Jae,” you whimper, stroking his hair and strong shoulders. “Give me all of it.”

“Fuck.”  

“I want this,” you tell him. “I want you so bad.”

He lets out a shuddery breath, and then he kisses you, grunting deeply- the last three thrusts are powerful yet erratic, and his entire body shivers as he falls over the edge. You can feel him filling you up, shooting rope upon rope of cum deep into your core.

Your legs wrap tightly around his hips, keeping him buried to the hilt inside of you, and you press kisses along his face, stroking his hair.

His orgasm lasts five or so seconds, and you can tell from the tension in his muscles that it’s an intense one. He all but slumps over you when he finishes, breathing hard against your skin as he buries his face by your throat.

“Fuck.”

“You can say that again,” you laugh. 

Usually, when Jaehyun and you finish up having sex, he immediately goes home and you go to shower, but today, you hold him close, keeping him wrapped in your embrace.

Neither of you say anything as you wait for your hearts to slow down, and you continue to press little kisses along his skin.

“How about we shower then cuddle and watch a movie?” you ask.

“Baby,” Jaehyun releases a small chuckle, “I would love that more than anything.”

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🔮 preview. “This is how you inspired me to study when we first started dating,” you point out. “Encourage yourself with pussy. Get some good sucking now, fuck me stupid, and then, use that as fuel to get your studying done.”

cw/ tw. Unprotected sex, oral, blow job, hand job, masturbation, use of toy/vibrator, multiple reader orgasms, sucking Jae off while he studies, multiple sex positions, dirty talk, praise, rough sex,  etc…   I petnames. (hers) baby.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.5k I teaser wc. 110

🌙 starring. Jaehyun x afab!Reader

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You can tell that Jaehyun is struggling. His end of the year final is coming up, and he’s as anxious as you’ve ever seen him. 

You’ve done your best to support him with studying, but after everything you’ve learned at the start of your relationship last year, you think you might just know the best way to help him focus.

“Jae?” you call, looking at your boyfriend as he studies at the table by your bed. “How’s it coming along?”

He releases a deep sigh. “Not great.”

You approach him, resting against the table. “Anything I can do to help?”

“Probably not,” he groans.

“Are you sure about that?”

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[killerblackberrypie]

I had a couple big success traps in highschool:

-one massive binder, all subjects in it. (This was before laptops, I took all notes longhand.) It was awkwardly large but also really, really hard for me to lose, and I didn’t.

(I still do this. My student notebook is one notebook with all my kids in it. I take notes longhand. I’ve forgotten it once in the last 2 years.)

-backpack got loaded the night before and stashed somewhere I had to look directly at it and walk right past it as I was leaving the house.*

I have a few ongoing ones now:

-one half the double kitchen sink is for dishes. There is ALWAYS an empty sink. If there is an empty sink, cooking or washing of large dishes can still happen- if both sinks are half full of dishes, dishes must be managed prior to cooking and sometimes that is just Not Happening. While something simmers, though, it’s easy enough to unload/load dishes without it feeling like an extra chore.

-mostly, things live where they are used. There is as little “putting things away” as possible- still working on what this means for things like important mail.

-you will never remember, no matter how important. Write it down, NOW, and if you think of it now and can take care of it now, do it now.

There are two time settings, now and not-now.

20 minutes from now is not-now.

So is 20 years. (Not an exaggeration- there is a piece of complicated paperwork my mother has been trying the get me to deal with for. twenty. years. I need to do it. It implies a whole bunch of other complicated steps. Yikes)

*Mom & I had a little tussle over this- occasionally I’d find my backpack removed from the Can’t Fuck It Up spot and placed in my room, which confused me. I would immediately replace it. The last time this happened, I put it back where it went, went elsewhere in the house, and then found it back in my room again. I went to put it back where it belonged and mom went “what are you doing??? I just moved that to your room AGAIN! That is your backpack, it goes in your room!!” I explained that I was Being Responsible, whereupon she said “Oh. …..but it’s. On the floor. You can’t have it on the floor….but I guess we can find you a stand or something.” So there was a little shelf-thing for my backpack after that.

When I was a kid I kept failing classes because I'd lose my homework. I'd finish it, but between the dining room table and the classroom it would just walk away. Sometimes it ended up in my backpack, sometimes it didn't; sometimes I finished the homework at school and it got home in my backpack but wasn't there the next day.

To attempt to address this, my parents got me a neon orange folder to put in my backpack; it was my homework folder, all homework was to go into that folder and that folder only, and it was to only come out of that folder when it was being worked on. I was to put homework in the homework folder as soon as it was assigned and if I'd worked on it, put it back in the folder as soon as it was finished. The logic here was that using the folder was supposed to be automatic, and you wanted a bright color so it wouldn't get lost in the depths of a backpack.

I think I lost about eight of those before my parents stopped buying orange folders.

So it was very frustrating to search "how to be organized at work as an adult with ADHD" only to get a list that said "set alarms and write things down and try to make friends with a more organized person" which was immediately followed by tips to help your ADHD child stay organized and the one right at the top was to put their homework in a bright folder so they couldn't lose it.

If you have been harmed by the ADHD Tips Industrial Complex you may be entitled to a packet of fun-dip and a cactus cooler as consolation for losing your homework folder again.

[missadangel]

MAKE HIM DISLIKE LOVE YOU

Harry Castillo x Reader (The Materialist)

Chapter 1: Blind Date

series masterlist

Summary: You work as a housekeeper in a rich family's mansion and often have to deal with their spoiled daughter. One day, she asks you to pretend to be her on a blind date with a guy her dad picked out for her. Your mission is to make him not like you so he won't want to marry her. But here's the twist: will Harry end up hating you, or could he actually fall for you? That's the real question. Warnings: 18+ (smut, MDNI) kinda romantic comedy stuff, fluffy, angst, lying, soft and caring Harry Castillo, wealth, expensive gifts, drinks, money, cars, language, sexual tension, piv sex, kissing, Word Count: 4.8k for now, There will be a part two if you guys like it, but I'm not sure about the rest. Sorry for the poor writing; that was quick. authors note: I am not sure about his name. If there's any update, I will edit. English is not my native, so please be nice; this is my third fanfiction. Thank you for the reblogs, comments, and likes. Love you all!

"Ugh, this dress is so last season! Are you serious? Everything here is out of style—get rid of them! Call Elliot and have them send me another dress, or I'm going to be really pissed!"

As if tossed at you like a used handkerchief, another dress worth thousands of dollars—perhaps only worn once—landed in your hands. You sighed as you looked at the elegant dress you were now holding, the Gucci label glinting under the light.

"Story of my life," you mumbled.

Working as a housekeeper in a millionaire's house was hard enough, but dealing with his spoiled and ill-tempered daughter was exhausting. Yet you were determined that it would soon be over. You could no longer endure this physical and psychological torture. With the money you had saved, you planned to open your own restaurant—fulfilling your dream. You just needed to save a little more and hang in there a bit longer.

Your boss was a decent, kind man, but his daughter was so unbearable that every housekeeper assigned left the next day.

How do you even tolerate her? 

Because you didn’t have the luxury of quitting and waiting for a new job. You were still young and trying to establish yourself in the business. The extra pay you received was simply to endure her antics. Your kind millionaire boss had even promised you all the support you needed, suggesting you could quit your day job and focus solely on managing his daughter’s affairs. But how could you have known it would be so challenging? Still, you managed to get through each day and believed you could endure this for just a little while longer. After all, you had survived three challenging years already, right?

The mansion was enormous, and everything inside was meticulously organized. Everyone—housekeepers, gardeners, cooks, and even the owners—followed a disciplined daily routine. 

Except for the young lady of the house.

You never knew when she would wake up or come downstairs to join her family at the dinner table. She was stubborn, mean, and unpredictable, and you had to manage her behavior just as you managed her dresses, her dates, and her friends. Because you were responsible for her, there were times when you wished you could handle all the housework yourself and let someone else take care of her demands. Despite being just an ordinary housekeeper, your name was the one that echoed the most throughout this vast mansion.

Why? 

Because the young lady constantly called on you to fulfill her never-ending requests. And it was one of those moments again. Since it was evening, you guessed she was probably getting ready for a night out at the club, and you felt a surge of annoyance as you rushed to her room.

"I can't believe I was a size 8 before starting this job; now I'm down to a size 6," you mumbled to yourself, quickly making your way up the stairs.

One of the cleaners dusting the vases in the hallway shot you a wink and let out a sigh. Man, you’d do just about anything to be in her shoes, just taking care of that vase!

As soon as you knocked on the door, the young lady Melanie opened it, pulled you inside by the arm, and slammed the door shut behind you. You were taken aback—had you made a mistake? It had only been two hours since you last saw her; you had picked up her clothes off the floor and taken them to the laundry room. She had seemed content, busy texting on her phone. What could have possibly happened in such a short time?

“Is something wrong?” you asked, your eyes wide. For some reason, she looked super tense and nervous.  

“You’ve gotta help me,” she said almost desperately, which caught you off guard; it was pretty rare for her to ask for help like this, very rare.  

“Of course, if I know what’s going on…” 

“Remember that thing we did with the senator's son? I need you to do something like that again.”

You froze for a moment. She was referring to something you had helped her with before—something you weren't very proud of.

“Oh, but—” you frowned. “You said I’d never have to do anything like that again.”

Years ago, you had done your best to disguise yourself as Melanie to turn off the senator's son and prevent him from marrying her. It had worked, but lying to someone was a real headache. Thankfully, Melanie's father hadn’t suspected a thing, but the thought of risking it again felt scarier than anything else.

“I know, I know, but I’m in a tough spot. My dad has been speaking with a matchmaker again to arrange a match for me. After the scandal at the club last time, he's determined to marry me off for sure. Please, I need your help.”

How could she still act so childish in her late twenties? As she looked at you with those pleading eyes, memories of all the times she’d yelled at you and scolded you flashed in your mind. It was fine when you were more like her special assistant instead of just a housekeeper, but now it feels like you’re just a toy to her. When she wants to have fun, she plays with you—almost like you’re her little slave or something.

“I’m not here for that,” you said firmly. “That is not my job.” Your patience was running thin, and this was just too much.  

“But you’re supposed to help me,” she shot back, stubborn as ever. “And it’ll be easier this time, I promise.” 

You narrowed your eyes and said, “We got caught last time when the guy found out and cursed both of us. Do you have any idea how hard that was for me? And if your father discovers what we’re up to this time…”

She replied with a grin, “We won’t get caught this time because I already sent them my photo instead of yours. Besides, you know how my father is strict about always having my picture removed from newspapers and magazines.”

“You did what?” you wailed.

“Chill, it’s all figured out. I’ve been working on this since last week. You’ll have dinner with the guy, pretend to be me, scare him off, and boom! He won’t want to hear my name again. Easy peasy!”  

You rolled your eyes. “But he’s surely seen your photo somewhere; he can’t be that clueless.”  

“No, he’s a very busy businessman. He has lived abroad for years and has just returned from France. He’s looking to set up his business here in New York,” she said as she opened her laptop and pulled up a webpage with information about the man. “It seems he’s also looking for a suitable match,” she continued, glancing at his photo and pursing her lips.

You froze when you looked at the photo; he wasn’t at all what you expected. He appeared to be a mature, charismatic, and intelligent man. But how could you sit opposite this man and pretend to be someone else? The thought made you shudder, raising the tiny hairs on the back of your neck.  

“As you can see, he’s much older than me. I don’t think he’ll tolerate disrespect. If you’re disrespectful to him, he might get annoyed and just leave the table,” she said with a chuckle.

You laughed too, but for a different reason. You were sure that if she went to the meeting herself, he would get up and leave when he saw her personality.  

“I think you should go; maybe he won’t like you,” you suggested.  

She narrowed her eyes at you like she'd just caught you saying something crazy. “He won’t like me? Seriously?” She flipped her hair over her shoulder with a cocky grin. “Anyway, I can’t risk it. I don’t want to marry him or anyone else, and I definitely don’t want to be stuck in the same room with that old man.” 

As if I want it so much, you thought.  

“Come on, please do this for me! I promise I’ll be good; I won’t make you work too hard. I’ll ask Dad to give you a nice raise,” she said, clasping her hands together and trying to look cute.  

Well, good raise would mean you could quit your job and bail out of here earlier, right? You crossed your arms and glanced back at the laptop screen, staring at the photo of that guy—Harry Castillo. You made a decision that you had no idea would change everything in both his life and yours.

“Fine. When’s dinner?” you said, feeling a bit anxious.  

“Oh, you’re the best! I knew you couldn’t say no!” she said excitedly. “This Saturday.”  

“But that’s only two days away,” you pointed out, feeling even more nervous.  

“Don’t worry, I’ll get you all set. Just make sure you displease him,” she grinned.  

You sighed deeply, already sure you’d regret this choice.

“Don’t you think this dress is a bit… exaggerated?” you muttered, looking at yourself in the mirror.  

It was an elegant burgundy dress—strappy, satin, and adorned with pearl details—the kind of designer item you could never afford, even if you worked your entire life.  

“Am I trying to make him hate me or make him fall for me?” you asked, frowning.  

Melanie rolled her eyes. “Don’t worry; he’ll never fall in love with you,” she said arrogantly. This was typical behavior for her, so you chose to ignore it. “As much as you want to annoy him, remember that you represent me. I don’t want anyone gossiping that Melanie Johanson is wearing a lame dress,” she continued while picking out a matching purse.  

“But everyone knows I’m not you, except that poor guy.”  

“I don’t suppose you were planning to wear one of your own skimpy outfits,” she remarked. “Do you want our game to be exposed?”  

That was too much—being scolded and being forced to do something so ridiculous for this spoiled girl.  

“Fine, go to that dinner yourself then,” you said, slipping off your heels.  

She grabbed your arms. “No, no, no, please. Okay, I’m sorry I was rude. But I need you; no one else would do something like this for me.”  

“It’s good that you realize that,” you muttered.  

“Here, take this; it’s time,” she said, giving you a smile.  

Honestly, putting up with Melanie’s constant demands, cleaning up after her, and covering for her felt like child’s play compared to what you were facing tonight. 

A nice raise, you keep telling yourself trying to soothe yourself. I’m doing this for my restaurant; I’ll get it started someday.

The restaurant was one of the most famous, expensive, and luxurious places in New York—somewhere you would never normally set foot in. But tonight, thanks to Melanie’s name, you could easily get in. You were overwhelmed by the incredibly polite behavior of the restaurant staff.  

Melanie may have been extravagant and reckless, but she had thought of almost everything for tonight—from the driver who brought you here to the all restaurant staff. 

All this effort was for one purpose: to rid herself of the matchmaker’s match.  

When they took your fur coat at the entrance and told you that Mr. Castillo was waiting for you, you took a deep breath. After one step inside, when you saw him, you nearly backed away. Harry was busy on his phone, scribbling notes in his small notebook. He looked really sharp and stylish—way more handsome and appealing than in the photo.

Damn.  

You wanted to escape; you wished to put an end to this nonsense before it even began. Without realizing it, your feet started to move backward. Just then, you turned around and accidentally bumped into the waiter behind you, causing him to drop the champagne glasses he was carrying on his tray. The glasses shattered, and champagne spilled all over his outfit. You cursed yourself for the mishap.

Before you could even respond, the waiter apologized. “No, it was my fault; I’m sorry,” you said nervously, trying to wipe off the champagne from his clothes.

The other waiter and the staff stared at you in shock. 

Yes, you were a wealthy lady now, but what harm was there in being polite?

"No, ma'am, I should have been more careful," he said before turning and walking away.

"Miss Johnson?" said a soft, deep voice. 

You turned around to meet him and felt almost breathless. There he was, few inches taller than you, with broad shoulders, curly hair, deep-set brown eyes, a sharp nose, and an attractive appearance. 

"Melanie, right?" 

"Y-yes," you stammered, batting your eyelashes. 

And that smile! For a moment, the world seemed to stop; all the sounds in the restaurant faded, and you almost forgot why you were there. 

"I'm Harry," he said, holding out his hand. It took you so long to look at his face that you nearly forgot to acknowledge his hand. He laughed again, that wonderful smile lighting up his face. "My hand has been waiting for a while," he said teasingly. 

You felt your cheeks flush as you realized what he meant. "I'm sorry," you replied, quickly reaching out to shake his waiting hand. His hand was big and warm. "I hope I didn't keep you waiting too long," you mumbled, feeling embarrassed. You knew you needed to work up the courage. 

“Not really,” he said with a grin. “Shall we head to our table? Or do you want to stay here all night?” 

“S-sure,” you said sheepishly. 

Well, there wasn't much you could do about it. This wasn't just about him being wealthy or handsome. Even if it was a fake date, it had been years since you'd been on a date, and you didn’t know many men in your life. 

Dinner was harder than you expected. Even though you and Melanie had practiced what you should and shouldn't say, your fears came to light. Harry seemed kind and understanding, and it was difficult to lie to him, which made you hate every minute of it. It got worse when he started grilling you with questions, and you weren't sure how much longer you could keep up with this silly game.

When you excused yourself to go to the restroom, you called Melanie. 

"What do you mean he hasn't left the restaurant yet?" 

"I don't know; the conversation got a little long, and he kept asking questions about me, I mean you." 

"Do something to make him hate you already!" 

“But how? Throw wine at him? This is all ridiculous. I think we should just tell the truth.”

"Don't you dare!" she barked.

Her voice was so loud that you had to smile apologetically when the other women in the ladies room looked at you strangely, hearing your end of the conversation. 

"What am I supposed to do? Our plan isn't working." 

“What's up with this guy? He should’ve bailed by now.” Melanie grunted.

“He seems nice—I doubt he’d be rude like that.” 

“Rude! That’s the ticket; just be rude enough that he can’t stand it.” 

“What? Seriously?” 

“Yep, you heard me. Just be as rude as you can.” 

You let out a sigh, really wishing you could just bang your head against the wall right now.

“I said do it, or you'll ruin everything. Call me when you’re done.” 

“But what am I gonna— Hello? Darn it!” 

Beep… Beep… Beep… 

She hung up. 

You’ll have to be rude, how wonderful! But she was right; you needed to get rid of this man for the night to end and for you to return to your normal life. Why did he have to be so nice and kind? If he could ever act like a jerk, you would have done it by now, but he was just too sweet. As you looked in the mirror, you thought of all the rude things a lady wouldn’t normally do. Ah, that sounds familiar; it reminds you of Melanie herself. The very thought of her actions made you smile nervously. You took a deep breath and left the restroom.

Encouraging yourself, you gazed at Harry's handsome face from afar.

You can do it, you can do it...

Your first move: act indifferent.

You changed your facial expression as you approached the table and deliberately looked away from his face. He was smiling warmly at you. No, you couldn't look at him; it would only complicate everything. You were about to apologize for being late, but no, you can’t. Instead, you pulled your chair noisily on purpose, scraping its legs on the floor to create an annoying sound. You sat down and crossed your legs, positioning your body so it wasn't fully facing him. Harry seemed surprised by this sudden shift in your mood, but he didn’t comment.

A little later, as your desserts were served, he looked at you, “I like chocolate cake too, especially with pistachio sauce. We have similar tastes,” grinning at you.

You looked at him and then at the waiter. “I don’t want this,” you said angrily.

“But ma'am, you ordered it,” the poor man replied sheepishly.

“I’ve changed my mind,” you said. “I’ll go with the tiramisu,” you added after a quick look at the menu, making sure to glance away casually.

“Sure, I’ll change it right away,” he said, taking your plate and walking back.

“Are you all right?” Harry asked, concern creeping into his voice.

“I’m great,” you lied, forcing a fake grin.

He didn’t ask any further questions, but he seemed to suspect something had changed. When the waiter brought your dessert, you decided to eat it rudely. You were sure Harry would be disgusted as you devoured your dessert quickly and rather rudely as if you were starving. You didn’t look at him again until you finished your plate. When you finally glanced up, your stomach feeling a bit nauseous, the look on his face was not what you had expected. He was smiling at you admiringly.

What the hell was that? 

Shouldn’t he have shown disgust or displeasure, just like the people at the next table who were staring at you with disdain?

But not Harry, not him. Why, God, why? 

As if teasing you, he laughed and reached for a napkin on the table, wiping the remnants of dessert from the corner of your lips. “You’ve got quite the sweet tooth, don’t you, sweet girl?”

How could he be so nice, even after everything? 

“Want to eat mine too?” he joked again. Clearly, you were amusing him instead of grossing him out. Ugh, just what you needed. Why was this so hard? 

“It’s the cream in it,” you said, a bit defensive. If you were going to get into a battle of words, you might as well dive in. 

When he looked at you, confused, you thought you saw a glimmer of hope. Maybe you could annoy him with your gourmet knowledge. 

“The Marsala wine is in the cream; it’s a secret recipe,” you said, trying to sound smart. 

Harry paused eating his dessert, rested his elbow on the table, and gave you an admiring look. “Interesting. I didn’t know you were into cooking. That wasn’t in the info.” That familiar warm smile was back.

Crap. Another mess-up. 

“I get it—you’re keeping it under wraps from your dad. I want you to feel comfortable talking about your hobbies when you’re with me.” 

When you’re with him? Damn, that was supposed to be the first and last time you saw him. You started playing with your fingers in your hair out of nervousness. 

Think, think, think. All you had left was to use the only card you had.

“Look, Harry, I’ll be frank. I don’t plan to see you again.”

Suddenly, he stopped. “Didn’t you like me?” he asked softly.

Was it possible not to like this man? But damn it, you had to lie. You looked away; it was hard to read his expression.

“You’ve probably heard about me from the tabloids. I’m not the type of woman to get attached to just one man. My father put me up to this matchmaker thing; I didn’t intend to.” You admitted this indirectly. He deserved a little honesty, didn’t he? “I’ve had and will have many men in my life. I don’t plan to get married. I mean, you’re not special. I don’t want you to get the wrong idea.” 

When you looked at his face timidly, you realized you got the reaction you had been waiting for since the beginning of the night. His smile vanished; his expression hardened, and the color of his eyes darkened. 

But why did your heart squeeze when you should have felt relieved?

When they brought your coat, you thanked them and turned to Harry for the last time. You would probably never see him again. You felt fortunate to have had the chance to meet and get to know this man, even briefly. He would probably forget you anyway; why would he remember you? 

“Can I give you a ride home so we can end things on a good note?” he asked, sounding a bit unsure.

You definitely didn’t see that coming. You paused, trying to figure out what to say. It would’ve been easier to just say no, but his eyes were so mesmerizing that if he’d asked you to spill all your secrets right then, you might have done it without even thinking.

“Sure,” you replied, feeling shy.

When the valet brought Harry's car around, your jaw dropped. This black, late-model Mercedes Benz S was probably worth hundreds of thousands of dollars. Your interest in cars stemmed from your childhood; your mother always complained that you didn't like dresses and jewelry like other girls—rather, you liked cars. It was clear you were different, and you had always been that way.

Just like the situation you found yourself in now. Maybe there was something wrong with you.

The two of you were silent the entire ride. You didn’t look directly at him, but you could feel his gaze on you out of the corner of your eye. However, you were more captivated by the interior of the car. When would you ever get to ride in such a luxury vehicle again? It wouldn’t hurt to take a closer look. As you glanced towards his side to check out the control panel and see how much horsepower the car had, he caught your eye, causing you to quickly turn your head away. You had to suppress your curiosity.

"We’ll turn right here," you said as you approached the junction. Down the street, the giant mansion loomed, so close to your destination. You stole a quick glance at him, realizing this might be the only time you would see this man in person. You wanted to remember his handsome face. 

Suddenly, Harry slammed on the brakes, and the car screeched to a halt. Your eyes widened in surprise as you looked at him, startled that he had stopped so abruptly near the mansion. What had caused him to suddenly halt? He didn’t say a word, just stared at you, and his eyes seemed to communicate something intense. Was he angry and no longer wanting your company? 

You unbuckled your seatbelt and reached for the door handle, only to find it locked.

“Stay still,” he said as he unlocked the car doors. 

What was he implying? He walked around the front of the car, reached your side, and opened your door. 

Was this chivalry? If so, why did he stay away from the mansion?

“Aren’t you getting out?” His voice was kinda cold.

You didn’t know how to respond. You stepped out of the car without saying a word.

“Thanks for the ride—” 

Suddenly, he grabbed your arm—not roughly, but with a firm, questioning grip. His gaze was intense, but why did he look that way? Had he figured it all out? Maybe he was about to confront you for making a fool of yourself. After all, you had been willing to be open, and now you felt you deserved it. But you didn’t have the courage to meet his eyes, so you lowered your head. 

“You were lying, weren’t you?”

Shit. 

You swallowed hard; this was the moment you had dreaded.

“I-I…”

What were you going to say? How would you even say it?

You were fucked.

Suddenly, Harry pinched your chin with one hand, forcing you to look at him while his other hand rested on your waist. He tilted his head toward you, his hot breath brushing against your face, making your heart race. His lips were dangerously close to yours, and you could feel your throat going dry. What the hell was he going to do? Kissing you or scolding you? After what felt like an eternity, he pulled you closer by the arm around your waist and kissed you.

It had been a long time since you kissed someone, so you were almost shocked by his sudden kiss. No matter how hard you tried to stop yourself, you finally closed your eyes and surrendered to him completely. Your surrendering gave him courage and he deepened the kiss, his hot tongue licking your lips and forcing them apart. While his expert hand lingered on the swell of your breasts teasingly, you moaned and opened your mouth for him and when his tongue touched yours, you could still taste the chocolate from the dessert he had just eaten. 

But suddenly, Harry pulled his head back, breaking the kiss and all contact. Instinctively mesmerized, you leaned forward, eyes closed and mouth agape. When you finally opened your eyes, you caught him snickering, and as the embarrassment of the situation hit you, you wished you could disappear. You instinctively pressed your hand to your burning lips and pressed hem together. Harry licked his lips and grinned. "Just as I predicted. You lied to me. There's no way another man has touched you recently."

For a second, your mind went blank, and you just stared at him, blinking in confusion. What the heck did he mean by that? "Y-you... w-what..." Great, now you couldn't even put together a simple sentence.

What next?

Just then, your phone started ringing. When you opened your purse to get it, Harry reached for it before you could. Fortunately, you had saved Melanie in your phone under a special nickname, not her real name. Harry laughed, raising his eyebrows in surprise and amusement. "Trouble?"

Yes, you had saved her as trouble.

"Can you hand my phone back, please?" you said, holding out your hands, but he caught them with one hand and gently pushed them away. 

“Your trouble can wait,” he said, rejecting Melanie’s call. He dialed a number on your phone, but realized what he was doing when his own phone started ringing.

“There, now you have my number,” he said, handing your phone back to you.

You frowned and grabbed your phone angrily, "What makes you think I’d actually call you?" 

Harry shrugged, pursing his lips. “Shouldn't I call you before I come to pick you up for our next date? I guess I could just come by your house and honk the horn instead.” 

“What?” you exclaimed.

He grinned.

You took a deep breath to release some of your tension. “Harry, why are you doing this? There won’t be a next date; I told you that.”

“One chance,” he said firmly.

“A chance of what?” 

"I want you to give me a chance. A real date. If, at the end of the night, you still feel the same way, I promise you’ll never see me again."

You shook your head. "But why? You’re a man who can have any woman you want. You’re rich, handsome, and kind—why waste your time on someone who doesn’t want you?"

You saw something in his brown eyes, something you couldn’t quite identify, but it was intense. “Because you're different from others,” he said sharply. “True, women are not unattainable for me; they are always around. But what I want is someone special, and I feel that you are the one. There’s something about you that has ignited something in me I haven't felt in a long time. I must admit, I'm surprised; I never thought I’d be attracted to you after reading the news about you, but it seems I was wrong. Can you give me a chance? Please?”

Oh, Harry, there’s so much you don’t know, you thought. Your heart was fluttering at the thought of saying yes, but how could you? How dare you? You weren’t Melanie, the daughter of a wealthy businessman; you were just an ordinary girl.

“You know I won’t leave without hearing your answer, right?” He grunted.

Just then, you heard a car approaching, and you freaked out. That was Melanie’s dad’s car. Your heart nearly stopped.

“You have to go, like, now!” you yelled in a panic.

“First, say yes,” he replied, frowning.

"Si, yes, okay, alright! But please, go now!" you urged, pushing him toward the back of his car. He chuckled in response.

You crouched down to hide your face as the other car drove toward the mansion and pulled him down with you.

“I want you to know I’ve never done anything like this in my life,” he admitted, snickering.

“Is that so funny?” you snapped.

"Okay, I get that you don’t want your dad to see us like this, and I’m curious why, but since you said yes, I’ll be a good guy and leave."

“Yes you do that,” you said with a sigh.

Harry took his phone out of his pocket and waved it before getting into his car. “You’d better answer it when I call,” he said, getting inside. He winked at your puzzled expression and started the engine. His car quickly disappeared from sight along the road. You turned toward the mansion, exhaled deeply, and murmured to yourself.

“I'm so fucked.”

thanks for reading, likes, comments, reblogs are appreciated ❤️

[ofstarsandvibranium]

I Spy With My Little Eye

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: Joaquin Torres x F!Reader

Summary: Joaquin got you a little present for when he's away on missions for a longer time.

A/N: This is based off a tiktok I saw about a husband bothering his wife with the Ebo Bot while he's deployed

"...Joaquin, what is this exactly?" you look at the device inside the box.

Your boyfriend looks at you excitedly, "It's a little robot that I can use to communicate with you while I'm away on missions."

You pull it out along with instructions, "Honey, this is sweet and all, but our phones work just fine."

"But our phones don't roll around looking all cute like!" You watch as he downloads the required app and sets up the bot. Soon enough, the round, white and black bot is rolling around your living room floor. Joaquin controls it from his phone.

"See!" He then taps his phone again, "And I can talk to you through it like this!"

Honestly, you still didn't see the purpose of the bot, but it made Joaquin happy and it provides another form of communication with him while he's away.

"It does look pretty cute," you say, giving him a soft smile, which makes his own smile grow wider.

__________________

You're in the kitchen cooking dinner for yourself when you hear the rolling of wheels, "What's cookin', good lookin'?"

You chuckle and look down at your feet. The ebo bot is angled up at you as your boyfriend speaks through it, "Making soup?" Joaquin asks as he notes the pot in front of you.

"Close. I'm cooking stew."

"All of that for you?"

You roll your eyes, "No. I'll eat what I can and then I'll freeze the rest to eat for another time. Or if you want to eat it when you come back, all you have to do is heat it back up."

"Oooohh smart."

"Everything going okay?" you ask as you go back to cooking.

"Yup. Probably will be back in a day or two....can you pick me up and put me on the counter?"

You snort, "Really? Why?"

"So I can get a better look at your beautiful face, obviously." You hear the grin in his voice.

You roll your eyes again but you oblige. For the past few missions, Joaquin has used the ebo bot to talk to you, mess around, and be a little nuisance. You could tell he was enjoying it way too much.

"I hope Sam never gives you your own Red Wing. I can't imagine the nonsense you'd pull with something more advance," you smirk at the bot that rolls around the counter beside you.

"I've already asked and he refuses to give me one."

You laugh, "As he should! You're a menace with this little thing," you gesture to the bot with the wooden spoon in your hand.

"I'm just making sure you're not lonely when I'm away!"

"Baby, I love you, but we both know you're the clingier one between us."

You laugh as the bot turns around and rolls towards a corner, appearing as if Joaquin is pouting.

"Take it back."

"No, because it's true! And I didn't say it was a bad thing, Joaco!"

"No, no, no. It's fine. Screw me for being super duper in love with my beautiful and amazing girlfriend." he proceeds to roll towards the edge of the counter and you stop him.

"You're so dramatic," you say with a smirk as you pick up the bot and raise it to eye level.

"But you love me."

"Yes, I do. Very much," you kiss the bot and set it back on the counter, "Were you going to watch me eat dinner?"

"Nah. I'll let you go. I need to work on reports or Sam will get on me again."

You snicker, "Alright," you set the bot onto the floor, "Love you. Bye!"

"Love you! Byyyyyeeeeee!" he elongates the word as rolls all the way back to the dock, causing you to laugh to yourself.

[cressidagrey]

The Queen of Romantasy and the Race Car Prince - Chapter 22

Pairing: Lando Norris x Elizabeth "Lizzie" Treshton (Original Character)

Summary:

Elizabeth Treshton—bestselling romantasy author, queen of fae heartbreak, and sworn devotee of a carefully structured routine—never expected her service dog to abandon protocol and diagnose a Formula 1 driver with something. But that’s exactly what happens when Mara the wonder-dog ditches Lizzie’s side to aggressively alert to none other than Lando Norris in the middle of a coffee shop.

Warnings and Notes: 

Mention of epilepsy and service animals. I don't myself suffer from epilepsy, so I asked my IRL friend, who thankfully was nice enough to let me ask her all the questions I could come up with. The rest I asked Reddit. So everything that's wrong...that's totally my fault and not on purpose.

We are wrapping up loose plot threads so: Hungary 2024, WHICH I FIXED (kinda). My questionable understanding of racing strategy? Crocheting.

As always big thanks to @llirawolf , who listens to me ramble

Radio Transcript – Hungarian GP 2024 Driver: Lando Norris (#4, McLaren) Lap: Mid-race, after McLaren undercuts Oscar Piastri

RACE ENGINEER (Will Joseph): “Lando, box this lap. Box, box.”

Lando: “…You’re kidding. You’re actually kidding.”

Will: “Lando, we need to cover the undercut. Box now.”

Lando: “Yeah, I bet we do.”

[Lando enters the pits, swaps to fresh tires, and rejoins ahead of Oscar Piastri.]

Will: “So, uh, we’re seriously doing this? We’re actually undercutting Oscar?”

Will: “Affirm. We need to consolidate track position.”

Lando: “Oh yeah? That’s what we’re calling it? Consolidating?”

Will: “Lando, we’ll discuss later. Focus on your out-lap.”

Lando: “No. I want you to tell me right now why we did that. Because Oscar was ahead. Oscar was faster. So tell me why we just screwed him over. 

Will: “It was the best call for the team.”

Lando: “Oh, was it? Because last I checked, ‘the team’ includes Oscar, and you just threw him under the bus. And for what? Because from where I’m sitting, you just played us against each other for no reason.”

Will: “Lando, we need to manage the race. We’ll discuss later.”

Lando: “No, we’ll discuss now. Because Oscar went to bat for me when it mattered. He stood up when you lot wouldn’t. And this is how you pay him back? By screwing him on strategy?”

Will: “Lando—”

Lando: “I’m giving it back.”

Will: “Lando, we need you to maintain position.”

Lando: “Like hell I do. Tell Oscar I’m lifting into Turn 1.”

Will: “…Understood.”

Lando: Oscar— (lifts off the throttle, lets Oscar pass him back easily before Turn 1) —deserves better than whatever the hell that was.

Will: Lando, we didn’t ask you to do that.

Lando: Yeah? Maybe you should’ve thought about that before you made me the bad guy.

Will: This isn’t necessary—

Lando: No, what wasn’t necessary was playing stupid games with two drivers who actually trust each other. Fix your priorities.

***

Lando Norris – Post-Race Interview | 2024 Hungarian Grand Prix

Interviewer: Lando, P2 today after a tough fight with Lewis Hamilton. It was an intense battle right to the end—how are you feeling?

Lando: Yeah, I feel great! It was a proper race, a hard fight from start to finish, and I loved every second of it. I mean, Lewis is one of the best to ever do it, so going wheel-to-wheel with him like that, having to really work for that P2—it’s what racing is all about. I think we put on a good show today.

Interviewer: We heard some interesting radio messages during the race, especially around the swap with Oscar. Can you talk us through that situation?

Lando: Honestly, I just want to talk about how incredible Oscar was today. He’s been mega all weekend. He got pole, he had insane pace, and to take his first win—it’s so well deserved. I’ve been saying it forever: Oscar is that guy. He’s quick, he’s consistent, and I’m just really happy for him. It’s a huge moment.

Interviewer: Of course, but just to clarify on the swap—there was some tension on the radio. Did that impact your race at all?

Lando: Not really. My focus was on getting the best result for the team and making sure we maximized what we could. At the end of the day, Oscar won fair and square. I had my own battle with Lewis, and that’s where my head was. We went at it for a good chunk of the race, pushing each other to the limit, and I managed to come out on top. That’s what I care about—proper racing on track. That’s what people should be talking about.

Interviewer: Still, there were some discussions about team orders—

Lando: Listen, I’m not interested in making a big deal out of radio messages or politics. What matters is the racing. And today, we had an incredible race. Oscar got his first win, McLaren got a 1-2, I had a great fight with Lewis, and we showed what we’re capable of. That’s what people should be focusing on. That’s what matters.

Interviewer: Fair enough! A brilliant result today. Congratulations, Lando!

Lando: Cheers, mate!

Comments: 

@/F1Fanatic99: Lando just straight-up refusing to engage in drama and instead hyping up Oscar and talking about racing? That’s my driver. 🧡 @/HamiltonGOAT44: Lando vs. Lewis was the battle we all deserved! Absolute class from both of them. @/NorrisNation: Lewis made him work for it, but Lando held his own. That was racing at its finest. @/PiastriP1: Lando literally said “I’m here to race, not talk” and I respect that so much. @/WDCOscar: We should be talking about how good Oscar was today, not team orders drama. Lando gets it. @/DriveToThrive: Lando dodging those drama-baiting questions like he's defending P2 against Lewis Hamilton. @/TeamOrdersSkeptic: I mean, it’s cool that Lando’s focusing on the positives, but McLaren kinda did him dirty, no? @/NotABot23: Maybe, but Lando said he didn’t want a free pass. He’d rather earn his position. @/OscarWins: At the end of the day, Oscar won fair and square. Even Lando said it. @/F1Conspiracies: He’s dodging the team orders talk because he doesn’t want to cause problems, but let’s be real—McLaren needs to sort their priorities. @/AntiTeamOrders: Lando acting like nothing happened when McLaren literally screwed him over lol. @/JustHereForDrama: He’s so media-trained. Wish he would just say what he actually thinks. ↳ @/McLarenStan: Or maybe he actually thinks Oscar deserved the win and doesn’t care about the radio stuff? @/HungaryGP2024: The real headline should be "Lando Norris beats Lewis Hamilton in an on-track battle," not whatever drama people are trying to stir up.

@/GridGossip: “He stood up when you lot wouldn’t.” 👀 Lando, bestie, you can’t just drop that and move on like it’s nothing. ↳ @/McLarenMafia: WHO didn’t have your back, Lando? Say names. ↳ @/F1Conspiracies: I wonder what that is about…and I have the bad feeling it’s the whole Lizzie situation… @/OversteerAndTea: So we’re all just supposed to ignore that Lando basically said McLaren didn’t back him up, huh? @/FormulaWhispers: What was going on behind the scenes that made Lando say that??? ↳ @/InsideThePaddock: Oscar has more backbone than people realize. Him going to bat for Lando is NOT nothing. @/F1InsiderTea: McLaren’s PR team is SWEATING right now. ↳ @/OrangeDrama: Like, are they just hoping we all move on??? Because I have QUESTIONS. @/PitWallMess: Oscar and Lando are such ride-or-dies for each other. It’s everyone else I’m side-eyeing. ↳ @/McLarenMasterplan: We need the full story. Spill, Lando. Spill. @/TeaAndTelemetry: Lando is never that blunt unless something seriously pissed him off. ↳ @/DataDorkF1: Oscar was the only one on his side and Lando made sure we knew it. That says A LOT.

@/DTSWriters: This better be a whole episode in the next Drive to Survive season because I NEED DETAILS.

@/OscarPiastriUpdates: This is the first time in history a driver has voluntarily unfucked a team’s strategy mid-race. Historic behavior.

@/TireDegEnthusiast: McLaren really thought they could manipulate their drivers like chess pieces and Lando just said ‘no ❤️’

@/F1TeaSpiller: This isn’t just about the race. That “Oscar stood up for me this week” line? Oh, Lando’s making a STATEMENT.

@/PurpleSectorStan: The way McLaren’s radio was DEAD SILENT after Lando gave Oscar the place back. They knew they fumbled.

****

The apartment was dimly lit when Lando stepped inside, exhaustion settling deep in his bones. He set his bag down by the door, stretching out his shoulders as he made his way toward the living room. Lizzie was curled up on the couch, her laptop open in front of her, but her fingers weren’t moving across the keyboard. Instead, she was watching him.

"Hey," he said, offering a weary smile as he settled down beside her. Her gaze trailed over him from head to toe, taking in every little detail. He'd never quite appreciated how perceptive she was before.

“Hey,” she said softly.

He leaned back into the couch, closing his eyes and exhaling. For a few moments, silence filled the space between them. He could hear the hum of the laptop’s fan, the distant sound of cars from outside, the sound of their breathing.

Finally, Lizzie spoke. “You were brilliant this weekend.”

He cracked an eye open, looking over at her. She was watching him with something akin to awe, her expression almost reverent. He wasn’t quite sure what he did to warrant that look. “Was I?” he asked, trying for nonchalance but lacking even half of the energy to pull it off.

"McLaren 1-2," she told him softly, one hand reaching out to cup his jaw and he leant into her touch.

Yes. McLaren 1-2.

Not thanks to the team.

"I watched everything," Lizzie admitted quietly. "The radio. The interviews."

Lando inhaled sharply but sighed. "Figured you would," he told her.

She ran her thumb over his cheekbone, a simple touch that made his exhaustion recede just a fraction. "You were incredible," she repeated softly. "Even when you were getting screwed over on strategy and had every reason to be angry, you just..." She exhaled. "You handled it so well. You were incredible."

She hesitated for a moment. "Did...McLaren didn't have your back." It wasn't a question.

It shouldn't surprise him and it didn't. Liz was too smart for her own good. Of course, she would pick up on that. Just like the press had picked up on it, even when he hadn't outright said what it was, that had happened...people weren't dumb. They would put together the pieces into something resembling the truth.

Still.

Lando sighed, running a hand down his face. "Liz-"

She shook her head. "I thought...I don't know, that maybe they just wanted to take their time to handle things after Silverstone. But that's not what happened, is it?" she asked him softly.

Lando clenched his jaw, looking away. He didn't know how to explain it without making her feel worse.

Lizzie’s voice was quieter when she spoke again. “Did they… did they try to stop you from saying anything?”

He swallowed, trying to figure out how to answer. “I-” he stopped, biting his lip. Honesty was the best option, wasn’t it? He took a deep breath.

“They tried. It was...it was a bit of a clusterfuck.”

Lizzie’s breath hitched slightly. “And Oscar?”

Lando huffed a small, almost amused breath. “He blackmailed them.”

Lizzie blinked. “What?”

"He told them that if they didn't release a statement condemning the abuse, he'd go back to tweeting like he did for Alpine," he recounted with a snort.

Lizzie stared at him before bursting into a fit of giggles. She covered her mouth, trying to keep herself from laughing. Her laugh was like music to his ears and some of the tension left him.

He grinned at her. “Yeah. And you know the funniest part?”

Lizzie shook her head, biting down on the edge of her hand to suppress a laugh. She looked adorable like that, her cheeks flushed from her little bout of giggles, and he was struck with the sudden urge to wrap her up in a tight hug. So he did.

She melted into his arms, burying her face against his shoulder, her giggles muffled. It took her a moment to regain her composure, and she gave a little sigh, pulling back just enough to look at him. “What's the funniest part?”

Lando grinned, shaking his head a little. “It worked.”

Lizzie stared at him, mouth parted.

“He actually threatened a multimillionaire team with Twitter,” Lando snickered. “He threatened to unleash an online world war and they caved like that.” He snapped his fingers, making her laugh again.

Lizzie ducked her head, her shoulders shaking with suppressed snickers. “Oh my God.”

Lando laughed helplessly, pulling her back toward him, wrapping his arms around her waist. She was warm, her body pressed flush against his. He took a deep breath, the scent of her filling his nostrils.

Lizzie grew quieter and looked at him. "Did...did they...was it because of me?"

Lando felt something twist in his chest. “What?”

She swallowed. “Did all of this—did they hesitate because of me? Because I’m the one people were targeting?”

Lando immediately reached for her hand, squeezing it tightly. “No. No, Liz, don’t do that. Don’t make this your fault.”

She looked down at their intertwined fingers. “It just… feels like I made everything harder for you.”

Lando’s grip tightened. “You didn’t. They did. The people who went after you, the ones who treated you like shit—they’re the problem. Not you. Never you.”

Lizzie let out a shaky breath. “I just… I didn’t want this to be a thing. I didn’t want you to have to put out a statement or make it worse—”

“You shouldn’t have to,” Lando interrupted, his voice firmer now. “You shouldn’t have to explain yourself, or justify your existence, or convince people that you’re worthy of basic human decency. That’s not your job.”

Lizzie bit her lip, still looking uncertain.

Lando exhaled. “Liz, Oscar didn’t do that because of you. He did it because it was the right thing to do. Just like I spoke up because it was the right thing to do. And if McLaren didn’t have our backs, then that’s on them. Not on you.”

Lizzie nodded slowly, eyes shining. “I just hate that you had to fight for it.”

Lando lifted her hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. “I’d do it again if I had to.”

Lizzie let out a shaky laugh. “You’re stubborn.”

“You love it.”

She sighed. “I really, really do.”

He shifted a bit, pulling her onto his lap without thinking about it. She came without a second thought, settling on his thighs with ease. He wrapped his arms around her waist lightly, feeling the warmth of her seep into his skin.

She let out another shaky exhale, letting her head drop against his collarbone. He pressed his lips to the top of her head, wanting to soothe the worry out of her.

She felt so small in his arms. It made him want to cling to her, to shield her from the world and all of its bullshit. The urge to protect her was almost overwhelming.

"I made something while you were gone," she admitted, her voice muffled against his shoulder.

Lando quirked an eyebrow. “Oh?”

Lizzie hesitated for a second before reaching behind one of the couch cushions. When she turned back, she was holding something small in her hands—something that made Lando blink in surprise before bursting into laughter.

It was a tiny crochet version of Oscar Piastri.

Complete with a McLaren race suit and a little black and orange Pirelli cap.

Lando took the tiny Oscar from her hands, holding it up to inspect it. “No way.”

Lizzie grinned, a little sheepish. “I was stress-crocheting. And, well… given everything, I thought it was fitting.”

Lando laughed again, shaking his head as he turned the little figure in his hands. “He’s gonna lose his mind when he sees this.”

Lizzie smirked. “You think?”

“Oh, definitely,” Lando said. “He’ll pretend he doesn’t care, but he’ll be secretly obsessed with it.”

Liz looked pleased with herself. She leaned in to get a better look at the little figure in his hand. "I think it might be my best one yet," she told him with a smile.

Lando grinned, gently placing the little crochet Oscar on the coffee table before pulling her close again. Lizzie went easily. She draped her arms around his shoulders, her legs resting on either side of his. She draped herself against him like she always does, her body melting into his.

It had been a long few weeks. But somehow, sitting there with Lizzie—holding something she made with care, thinking about the people who had stood by them—it didn’t feel quite so heavy anymore.

***

Lando should have realised that it was going to happen one of these days.

So he wasn't that surprised, when the door to the McLaren Sim room swung open, and Oscar stepped in with a purpose. He barely acknowledged the engineers outside, his usual easygoing demeanor absent. The door clicked shut behind him, and the air in the room felt heavier.

Lando spun around in his seat, sensing the shift in the atmosphere. Oscar’s eyes pinned him to the spot, laser-focused on his every move. Lando couldn’t quite read the expression on his face, but there was something serious in the set of his jaw and the gleam in his gaze.

“Hey,” Lando said cautiously. “What’s up?”

Oscar folded his arms, leaning against the wall. "I heard the radio."

Lando shifted in his seat, feeling the back of his neck prickle. “Yeah. That.”

Oscar didn't say anything, just watched him with a hawk-like gaze. It was making Lando’s nerves itch.

He cleared his throat, trying to keep his voice even. "So you heard all of it then, huh?"

Oscar nodded, his eyes never leaving Lando’s face. "Yeah. Every word."

Silence fell between them, thick and heavy. Lando fidgeted with the hem of his hoodie, his fingers drumming an anxious rhythm against the fabric. He knew Oscar was waiting for him to say something, but the words felt stuck in his throat.

Lando ran a hand down his face. “Look, mate—”

“I didn’t do anything special.”

Lando blinked, caught off guard by how bluntly Oscar said it. “What?”

Oscar pushed off the wall, shaking his head. “You made it sound like I did something extraordinary, like backing you and Lizzie was some massive thing. But it wasn’t, Lando. It was just the right thing to do.”

Lando didn’t respond right away. Instead, he stared at the dashboard of the sim rig, feeling the weight of the last few weeks pressing on his shoulders. “Look,” he finally said, “whether you think it was special or not, you had my back. And I need you to know that I’d do the same for you. Always.”

Oscar scoffed, almost amused. “I know that.”

“No, I mean it,” Lando insisted, standing up. “What happened in Hungary? That’s not how I want to race you. If I gain a position on you, I want it to be because I overtook you—not because the team screwed you over.”

Oscar raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth tugging up into a small smirk. “Are you worried you won’t be able to overtake me without a little help?” he asked, a mocking tone in his voice.

Lando shot him a look. “You know that’s not what I mean, you muppet.”

Oscar rolled his eyes. "You know, It wasn’t exactly hard. Lizzie’s great. And you…” Oscar hesitated before adding, “You’re my teammate. That means something.”

Lando swallowed, something settling in his chest. “Yeah. It does.”

A moment passed, quiet but not tense. Then Lando leaned over, rummaging in his bag. “Anyway, I got you something.”

Oscar raised an eyebrow. “If this is some weird way to thank me, I swear—”

Lando pulled out a red-and-white packet and tossed it over.

Oscar caught it, glancing down. Tim Tams. His eyes immediately lit up. “No way.”

Lando grinned. “Figured your maiden win deserved a proper celebration.”

Oscar inspected the packet like it was the best gift he’d ever received. “Alright. You’re forgiven for embarrassing me on the radio.”

Lando smirked. “Knew that’d do the trick.”

Oscar was already tucking the Tim Tams under his arm when Lando pulled out something else.

“Oh, and—Lizzie made you this.”

He handed over a tiny crochet Oscar, decked out in a McLaren race suit with a perfectly detailed little Pirelli cap.

Oscar stared at it. “She made this?”

Lando nodded. “Yeah. She crochets when she’s stressed. Said she needed something to focus on.”

Oscar turned the tiny figure over in his hands, running a thumb over the stitches. It was absurdly detailed—clearly made with care.

“She really didn’t have to,” he muttered.

Lando shrugged. “You didn’t have to either. But here we are.”

Oscar glanced up, expression unreadable, before slipping the crochet figure into his pocket. “Well,” he said, smirking slightly, “at least I got Tim Tams out of it.”

Lando rolled his eyes. “Never doing anything nice for you again.”

Oscar tore open the packet, popping a biscuit into his mouth. “Sure, mate. Whatever you say.”

***

YouTube Transcript - Belgian Grand Prix Fan Stage 

Interviewer: "Lando, Oscar, after Hungary, there was a lot of speculation about your dynamic, especially with the radio messages and post-race comments. Can you clarify—was there any tension?"

Lando: [shrugging] "We talked. We’re fine."

Oscar: [grinning] "Yeah, Lando even got me Tim Tams and a tiny crochet Oscar, so I think that settles it."

Interviewer: [laughing] "A tiny crochet Oscar?"

Lando: [smirking] "Yeah. Well, technically, Liz got it for him. She crochets when she’s stressed, and I guess Hungary was stressful."

Oscar: [holding up a hand] "For the record, it’s actually very impressive craftsmanship. It even has little details on the race suit."

Lando: [mock serious] "Yeah, she put more effort into it than McLaren did into our strategy."

Oscar: [choking on a laugh] "Jesus, Lando."

Interviewer: [laughing] "Okay, so no hard feelings?"

Lando: [firmly] "Oscar deserved that win."

Oscar: [grinning] "And now I have a tiny yarn version of myself to prove it."

Interviewer: "Alright, good to know things are all settled!"

Comments: 

@/F1Fanatic99: Crochet Oscar is probably better at strategy calls than McLaren. Just saying.

@/GridGossip: Someone better crochet a tiny Lando next so they can be besties IRL and in yarn form.

@/WheelToWheel: If Oscar doesn’t start bringing Crochet Oscar to every race, we’re gonna have a problem.

@/McLarenUpdates: Crochet Oscar is just proof that Lizzie is the best thing to ever happen to the McLaren garage.

@/EpilepsyAwareness: Imagine explaining to someone in 2018 that F1 Fandom would one day be obsessed with a crocheted version of Oscar Piastri.

@/SilverstoneStan: Crochet Oscar is a cultural reset. Every driver needs a tiny yarn version of themselves.

@/SpeedDemon19: New F1 tradition: every race winner gets a crochet version of themselves. Make it happen, FIA.

@/McLarenSuperFan: The fact that Lizzie made that is so cute. She really said 'supporting my boyfriend and his bestie through yarn.

@/MaxsOrangeArmy: Oscar got a trophy AND a tiny crochet version of himself? Peak career moment.

@/PitStopChaos: Lando’s next merch drop better include tiny crochet drivers or I’m rioting.

@/ChaosInTurn1: Lizzie is out here supporting Oscar more than McLaren did. Queen behavior.

@/F1Wifey: McLaren strategists should fear the WAGs, they have more team loyalty than half the pit wall.

@/WheelToWheelGirl: The fact that Lizzie crocheted through the McLaren strategy disaster is sending me. How much yarn do you think she used during Hungary?

@/RacingLogic: Oscar acting like a proud dad over his little crochet Oscar is the most wholesome thing to come out of this entire mess.

@/ToxicMcLarenFan: I NEED TO SEE THE TINY CROCHET OSCAR, PLEASE, OSCAR, I AM BEGGING.

@/SilverstoneElite: McLaren PR scrambling to figure out how to monetize Crochet Oscar as we speak.

@/PaddockInsider: Not Lando shading McLaren’s strategy while handing out handcrafted emotional support Oscars.

@/PitLaneDrama: The way Oscar is so proud of his tiny crochet self… we need a picture IMMEDIATELY.

@/FIAConspiracyTheories: Okay but McLaren better start strategizing as well as Lizzie crochets.

@/FastAndFearless: Petition for Lizzie to start selling crochet F1 drivers because I NEED ONE. @/McLarenPanicDepartment: Lando: ‘She crochets when she’s stressed.’ How much yarn does she go through dating him???@/MaraForPresident: LIZZIE MADE OSCAR A TINY CROCHET OSCAR??? SHE’S THE REAL MVP.

[fishmech]

no thank you i also used to work in both onsite and call-based tech support so your attempt to pull rank here means nothing to me.

the described scam has nothing at all to actually do with the computer or the internet.

most likely the caller did not even say anything specific at all about the computer the old person had. before computers were widespread this exact same scam would usually be something about a nonspecific debt or impersonating an aspect of the phone company or any other thing a person might conceivably have. in fact they still do this all the time! and the idea with this category of scam is that you just keep trying to deploy the low effectiveness but also cheap hook until someone bites and pays out a

also once again: it does not matter that widespread personal computers were not around when "old people" were young. it doesn't matter either that they were around before perhaps you were born. this does not make either group less or more able to deal with technology! that is just dumb media spin, and besides that it misses that we are not talking about something that just showed up 5 years ago or whatever, these are things that have been in the average person's life a solid decade plus. these are things people have used at work before they retired. your brain doesn't stop handling doing new things just because you're old or it didn't happen to be around when you were very young.

also you do "balance a checkbook" frequently, most likely. you have surely checked your balance on a banking app or website or a phone call in the past year at least once when deciding to buy something. probably even occasionally noticed you had less money there than you were expecting, and went to check for any fraudulent purchases or subscriptions that you forgot to cancel. that's what you did with a physical checkbook too! in-between visits to a physical bank branch to check balances or receipts of bank statements in the mail, you would write down what you'd written each check out for, in order to know your expected balance once all the checks went through. absolutely nothing special there, you probably make note of when you buy things anyway and have a tough estimate of how much cash you have between actual balance viewing too! that's the same shit. after all, many transactions that happen instantly from your perspective can still take a few hours to days to pop up on your online banking balance so even diligently checking that every few hours is still going to have some edge cases you'll need to remember to avoid an overdraft. you're not using a physical check and a physical checkbook to do it but debit transactions are handled exactly the same over the same payment rails the physical checks were.

😭

[mercy-burning]

R & R

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: A week away from work has you and Spencer trying new things... Category: SMUT (18+) Content: Strong language, cockwarming, piss kink. unprotected p in v sex, pure filth with a little domestic fluff sprinkled in Word Count: 1.6k

MASTERLIST

NOTE: Don't know what came over me this afternoon... Not proofread, probably not my best work, but I had a vision and I needed to put it to words. Enjoy :)

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

A day off—a true day off—from working at the BAU is extremely rare, especially considering all the little things that pop up in between cases, like requests from other departments and endless piles of paperwork. Even when you technically have a day or even a weekend off, there's always someone calling to ask for a second opinion on something or for a confirmation that you sent in a report of some kind. Bottom line: There's always something.

So, when the only 'something' is an official request from the Bureau to do 'nothing' for a week, you take it, albeit warily.

The first two days, it was hard not to keep anxiously waiting for the phone to ring, but now that there's been four of uninterrupted FBI-mandated rest & relaxation, you're starting to consider yourself spoiled.

The mornings are slow and lazy, but then you and Spencer are out of bed and rummaging through the apartment by noon, making food and making each other laugh and tidying things as they come along. And then the afternoon creeps in before you know it, and the natural thing to do is settle down with a book or a movie or a couple episodes of some mindless television.

The undercurrent of worry that your job might call you in is still there, hiding in wait under blankets and wandering hands and in the low hum of the box-fan in the corner of the living room, but it remains unspoken between you.

By the time nightfall rolls around, it's a sort of relief; To know that another day has really gone by without having to answer the call of responsibility.

You celebrate by wrapping yourselves up in each other. Whether it's in the shower or on the couch or back in bed, or sometimes all three in one night, this little part of your routine feels the most like a luxury. It's uninterrupted, thorough, and utterly indulgent.

Currently it's the morning of the fifth day, and something about Spencer's touch and the way you're leaning into him feels less indulgent and more hedonistic. The phone could ring and you would simply silence it, your pleasure preserving importance over literally anything else—even your job. You're convinced a hurricane could swoop on through the city and you still wouldn't give up your spot in this bed unless you were forcibly removed.

A spark lights up in your chest as you feel Spencer wake beside you, his hand sliding and draping itself over your hip to pull you impossibly closer. Memories of the night prior dance around in the air between you, until you feel yourself becoming squirmy. Needy.

You can sense his need too, in the way his fingers grip your body and in the beating of his heart against your back. His breath is hot on your neck, and then his dick is hardening against you.

"I want you inside me, but I think I'm still too lazy to do anything about it," you admit cheekily, warming at the way he laughs in response.

"Well, good morning to you, too..."

Still, he doesn't protest. His hands are lazy but gentle, guiding you around so you're straddling him, chest to chest. You take a moment to look down at him, grinning as he takes your face in his hands and grins back.

"Hi."

"Hi," you giggle back through a kiss, laughter dissolving into a soft whimper as he expertly slips a hand between you and helps himself slide right into you.

"Fuck, you're wet already," he sighs against your lips.

You slump your weight forward and rest your forehead to his, welcoming the fullness below you. "Always wet for you..."

He hums, low and guttural, and you feel like you're sinking further down. You snuggle close, burying your face into his neck. He lays there under you, unmoving aside from his hands as they trace the dips and swells of your body. Your back, your hips, your thighs—anywhere he can reach.

Your breathing becomes one, and it's the most intimate form of indulgence you could possibly dream of.

You never want it to end.

Occasionally you'll squeeze or shift your hips, and Spencer will whine, and after the fourth time, you can't help but laugh.

"What's the problem, pretty boy? I've never known you to be impatient in the morning..."

"It's not that," he chokes out quickly. You lift your head to meet his eyes, and the movement of your bodies together causes him to make another sound. You raise an eyebrow and he knows he's caught. He surrenders, sighing out with an incredulous laugh to the ceiling. "I've really gotta pee."

The sentence coming from him makes you laugh again, and your body moving on top of him is enough to make him hiss out as he grips your hips to keep you still.

Something about it, the desperation in his face as he squints, chin jutted up to the air as he tries so hard to refrain, sends a jolt of a thrill through you.

"Well, I don't wanna get up..."

It's his turn to laugh now. You can see the sensation is making it harder on him, but still he doesn't make any quick efforts to move. You use that to your advantage, dropping your voice and leaning down to gently lap at his throat with the tip your tongue.

"And you don't seem like you want to get up, either..."

You punctuate your words with a tight squeeze around his cock, and he actually moans, his grip on your hips tightening enough to leave marks from his nails.

"Fuck, you're killing me," he whines, the sound of his desperate voice lighting you up from the inside out.

You can't take it anymore, unable to keep your hips from rolling into his. Despite your protests to get up, you manage to sit upright, putting in the work to slowly ride him.

Spencer cries out, throwing an arm over his forehead. You can tell by his expression and the sweat forming over his bare chest, that he's trying not to let go yet.

"It's okay," you tell him, gently pressing your hands just below his hips, using his body as an anchor instead of the mattress while you ride him. "You don't have to fight it, baby..."

He cries out again, the sound somewhere between a laugh and a moan. Your name and a string of curses are next, the syllables a beautiful, desperate warning.

"It's okay," you whisper, and you sit down hard, staying there and grinding your hips in small, slow circles as he stutters his final warning—an, "Oh God..." to the morning air.

He still tries to hold back at first, small bursts of warmth filling you deep from within. But you smile and lift up slightly just to fall back down, encouraging him with a gentle pleasureful flutter of your eyes to the back of your head. "Yes, yes, yes," you whisper, sucking in your breath and circling your clit with your fingers. "That feels so good..."

The pressure builds inside you, between your muscles clenching and your orgasm impending... And of course, there's the warmth that literally fills you to the brim and cascades down your thighs. Spencer's warmth.

You feel him physically relaxing as he continues to release, his hands finally coming up to caress your skin once more, roaming your thighs and your hips, and then what he can reach of your breasts.

He manages to sit up once the flood has subsided, his new prime focus on getting you to fall over the edge. You shift, losing momentum for just a moment before you finally settle into a new rhythm, his body rocking up to meet yours and keep you from falling over. You're riding him with frenzy now, fully awake and alert and so damn close to Heaven, you can practically taste it.

The sounds your bodies are making are wet and lewd, and as Spencer pulls away slightly to reach down and massage your clit, you manage to catch a tiny glimpse of the mess he's made, the visual of dark spots in the navy sheets—a vivid manifestation of his pleasure and desperation—sending you over the edge.

You kiss him through it, swallowing every groan and every breath until you feel him still and come inside you soon after—a different, more familiar warmth, and still just as exciting.

You could never not feel anything but excitement when being with him in any capacity.

The two of you are collapsing not long after, and while you're content, you're also a little worried that you might have pushed him a little too far out of his comfort zone; He's usually quiet after sex, but not this quiet. He hasn't said a word.

Spencer seems to sense this worry, his arms holding you close in a reassuring hug. "You learn something new every day," he muses, not judging but embracing as he kisses your temple.

You can't help but smile, especially when he continues with that occasional irresistible sass in his tone that suggests you've inconvenienced him, but not enough to be entirely pissed. With incompetent law enforcement it's serious and incredibly sexy, and he knows how you feel about it. So, with you, he makes it playful. Loving, even.

The thought is enough to make you shed any sort of worry and settle yourself deeper into his embrace. You let the words light you up and make you laugh, reveling in them even though you know it's a not-so-subtle nudge in the direction of actually getting out of bed and starting the day.

"Guess it's a good thing we were gonna do laundry today, huh?"

[ddejavvu]

Hello i had an idea for a Spencer fic! So the BAU team have a party and Spencer's sitting by himself cause he doesn't drink and he feels awkward and reader goes to sit with him to comfort him about how he doesn't have to drink to have fun. They spend the rest of the night together and Spencer asks if they could hang out more at some point :,)

Spencer's not alone, but he's not exactly with the group, either. He's sitting at the end of the table, and you remember Penelope had been with him at the start, but now she's several shots deep in Emily's lap, trying to peer down Morgan's shirt.

Spencer's tapping a long, lithe finger against the table like a metronome, his plush pink lip tucked beneath his front teeth as he stares into his water glass. There's shrieking and laughter from the opposite end of the table but you vacate your seat, beelining for the BAU's youngest member.

"You're not drinking, Reid?" You maintain a slight air of professionality, forgoing JJ's nickname, 'Spence', because you're still less than a month into joining the team. Spencer's kind with you- everyone is, but you're trying not to overstep.

"Oh, I'm not much of a drinker," He smiles, his chin angled up slightly, "I just prefer water."

"I don't blame you. Drinking makes me sleepy." You admit, "I'd pass out in half an hour if I tried Rossi's concoction."

"His cocktails are lethal," Reid's nose wrinkles, "He says it's because he's an old man and he needs the strong stuff. I just think he doesn't like having to pay attention to any of us when we talk."

"Both are probably true," You take the seat across from Spencer at the vacant side of the table, "You don't bring anything else to do? I know you usually carry a book with you."

"It's in my bag." Spencer grimaces, "Everyone always makes fun of me when I read instead of drinking, so I don't anymore."

"Go get it." You urge, "I have one in my bag too. They could- y'know, make fun of us."

Spencer's eyes narrow in thought, his brow furrowed slightly as he glances past you at the rest of the team. They're not paying attention to either of you anymore, too caught up in their own fun, and he reaches for the bag draped over the back of his chair.

It's thick, heavy, and looks like a volume that should be gathering dust in a magic library. But he opens it to a page near the beginning, and is already turning to the next before you can wrench your book out of your own bag.

You settle into the groove of reading, a comfortable silence that Spencer looks much happier with than sitting alone. He turns pages faster than you can fathom, and it's incredible to know he's reading every word the same as you are.

"You know," He starts, his eyes still on the page, "There's a nice cafe a few blocks down from work. I go there and read on Saturday mornings if we're not on a case. It's quiet, it's- good for reading." He chances a glance up at you, and finds you hooked on his every word.

"Yeah?"

"You should come with me sometime." He notes, his voice purposefully casual, "Uh, they have good croissants."

"I like croissants." You smile, "I'm free this Saturday, Reid."

"You can call me Spencer," He offers, "Uh- Morgan has his phone out."

Morgan is, in fact, taking pictures of you and Spencer with your books out, and you're sure they'll appear in your team group chat within the minute. But you don't care, and you knock your foot against Spencer's beneath the table.

"I'll be there at nine, Spencer."

[em1i2a3]

Party 4 U

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Warning: 18+ Minors DNI, Swearing, Established Causal Relationship Between Bucky and Reader, Avengers live in the tower all together. Smut; Dirty Talk, Fingering, Rough Sex, Light Choking, Biting, Overstimulated Bucky and Reader, Unprotected P in V sex (Wrap wrap wrap it up!), A hint of aftercare because aftercare is hot :D

Author's Note: Thought I’d do something a bit lighter than my other one-shots I’ve been working on (they’re all very long, so I’m trying to give my brain a break to write happy little stories!). I thought this would be the perfect time to write something based off of Bucky’s birthday since it was last week! I know it’s a bit late, but I did my licensing exam that day and I have been reeling from the passing mark, and celebrations really crowded my time lol. Anyways! I hope you guys enjoy!! And thank you so much for all the love you guys gave to ‘My Desire,’ do not fret, I will give y’all that little continuation (currently have it on my writing list :))

Word Count: 12,241

“I’m not going to let you go until you agree that you’re not going to throw me a party.” Bucky insisted, his arms tightening around your waist, holding you against him as you tried to playfully break away from his broad half naked body, your shirt riding up in the process, exposing your lacy underwear. He leaned his chin on your chest, staring up at you, admiring the fact that you thought you were going to be able to get out of his trap without agreeing to what he said.

”Bucky, I gotta meet Stark, you have to let me go.” He smirked, his blue eyes glistening slightly in the lighting of his room, darting all over your face before leaning in to give you a gentle kiss, his hands grabbing onto your butt, kneading the flesh beneath his palms, earning a sigh from you. He pulled away for a moment.

”There’s absolutely no way you’re meeting with Stark, there’s too much opportunity to plan a party.” He joked, peppering kisses along your face. You laughed at the wetness of his lips, bringing your hands up to his cheeks, caressing them, his eyes returning to yours, a hazy smile pulling up onto his face as his stubble scraped against your palms.

“You’re the only person that I know who doesn’t enjoy celebrating their birthday.” You replied, shifting on his lap, earning a small hum, the warmth of you pressing against his boxer shorts, feeling the muscles of his thighs flexing beneath you.

“Doll…When you’re turning an age that makes it look like the cake is on fire because of how many candles you need to put on it, birthdays really become a let down.” He explained, as you trailed your hand up to his hair, pushing the damp strands back out of his face.

“Well, that’s why we are just going to put the numbers on it instead of a bunch of candles.” You joked, your fingers tracing across his lips. Bucky let out a small rumbling laugh, his tongue darting out to lick the tips of them playfully.

”You’re absolutely relentless.” He murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your palm, “You really want to celebrate me that badly huh?” You could feel your heart skip a beat, your stomach fluttering from his words.

”I mean, someone’s gotta make you feel special. Might as well be me.” You replied, shrugging at him, your hand returning to his cheek, scratching at the stubble.

”You always make me feel special though.” He replied, quietly. You smiled at him, giving him a small kiss on his lips.

”Guess I better keep my track record going then hmm?” You could see his cheeks blush a dull red, as he shook his head, his fingers brushing along your thigh, skimming the lace of your underwear.

”You’re really not going to give up?” He asked, his eyebrows raising at you.

”I think you know me better than that, Bucky.” He let out a long sigh.

”I’m in a casual fling with a menace.” You grinned at his comment, leaning in, his breath hitting your lips.

”Takes one to know one.” Bucky narrowed his eyes, his arms tightening around you even more, just to make sure you didn’t forget the situation you were in.

“Just remember you have to somehow escape this to be able to plan your little party.” You tilted your head back slightly, tapping a finger against your lips.

”Hmm…I’m pretty sure I can manage.” You quipped, bringing your fingers over his thick shoulders, tracing down the ridges in his skin. Bucky opened his mouth to respond, but that was when you struck. In one swift movement you brought your hand down to the sensitive spot right below his ribs, pressing into it, tickling him. He yelped, his body jerking involuntarily, his grip on you loosening just enough so you could slip off his lap, and off the bed. A victorious smirk draped on your lips as the look of shock came onto his face.

”Did you just-“

“It’s pretty easy to know where you’re ticklish Bucky, I’m very observant.” You cut in, giving him a wink, grabbing your sweatpants off the ground, and quickly shimmying into them.

”I’ll get you back for this. Don’t worry.” He warned. You smiled at him.

”I’m sure you will,” You replied, tying the strings of the sweatpants as you opened his door, “I’ll see you later?” You asked, eyebrows raised, watching him closely, seeing the way he fought back a smile.

”…Yes.” You grinned at the way he responded under his breath.

”Good.” You said softly, slipping out from the room, closing the door behind you, still feeling your body buzzing from the aftershocks of your little evening rendezvous. You barely made it three steps before you spotted Natasha leaning against the wall, watching you with an amused expression, her arms crossed over her chest.

”What?” You asked, feeling your cheeks heat up under her gaze.

”You two never cease to amaze me with how much sex you can have in one day.” She commented, you let out a small laugh.

”Come on, it’s not THAT much.” You shot back, causing her to raise her eyebrows.

”Yeah? Let me rifle off the list of just today, you guys took a shower together…”

”Hey, we just do that to save water.” You interrupted, “And because it’s nice when someone can reach your back.” Natasha shook her head.

”Then you guys ran off to ‘train’, now you just came out of his room. You guys are like bunny rabbits.” You laughed a bit, scratching the back of your neck.

”I mean…Can you blame him? He’s making up for lost time.” Natasha snorted.

”Lost time?” You shrugged, feigning innocence.

”Y’know, the seventy-plus years where he was either frozen, brainwashed, or avoiding human interaction?” Natasha huffed out a laugh, shaking her head at you.

”Right, because obviously, the best way to make up for decades of trauma is to rail your girlfriend at every possible opportunity.” You smirked.

”Hey, I’m just doing my civic duty to the country to keep Bucky Barnes happy and stable.” Natasha laughed.

”Happiness is one thing. You two go at it like you’re training for the Olympics.” You pressed your palms against your face, feeling the heat in your cheeks.

”Are we really still talking about my sex life over here?” Natasha shrugged.

”The whole team talks about it. Clint calls you two ‘Barnes and Noble’ because of how much time you spend in each other’s rooms…That and you guys don’t really keep your little sexcapades a secret.” You sighed.

”Fantastic…Well…I have to go get Bucky’s birthday present from Tony, so hopefully you guys will get a much needed break from us.”

————

By the time you reached Tony’s lab he had been waiting for over twenty minutes, leaning against his workbench, sipping coffee from his mug, slurping loudly to annoy you.

”You’re late,” He remarked, “Got distracted?” You sighed, walking over to the workbench, taking a seat on one of the stools.

”Of course I did. But you would know that because you probably saw me stumbling out of Bucky’s room on the cameras.” He held his hands up in defence.

”Hey hey, I’m not that concerned about you and the soldier frolicking around like two teenagers. You’re both adults…Well, he’s technically a fossil, but still. You’re free to do whatever you’d like.” You let out a small laugh.

“Sure…Sure,” You sighed, looking at the content strewn about the workbench, your eyes falling on the long black velvet box with a silver bow on it, “Is this it?” You asked, pointing at it before picking it up.

”Yep, straight from Wakanda, pulled a few strings for you so you could get the best of the best for him.” You dragged your fingers across the velvet box, “I did the engraving for you.” He added, as you cracked it open, your breath hitching in your throat. It was everything you had described.

Inside, nestled against the silk black lining, was a custom vibranium combat knife, black and gold like Bucky’s arm. At the bottom of the handle was an engravement with his initials, J.B.B, and along the spine of it , were two sets of coordinates carefully etched into the metal, one for Brooklyn, and one for Avengers Tower. One for where it all started for him, and the other for where he found himself again and built something new. Tony could see your eyes light up at the sight.

”Pretty nice hmm?” You swallowed hard, nodding.

”He’s gonna love it.” Tony huffed, leaning back against the workbench, taking another sip of his coffee.

”You know, for someone who insists that this whole thing is casual, you sure put a lot of thought into that.” You exhaled sharply, snapping the box closed.

”Don’t start.” Tony smirked at your reaction.

”Just making an observation, kid.” You rolled your eyes, slipping the box into the pocket of your sweatpants.

“It’s just a gift.” You said, as if you were trying to convince yourself too.

“Right…Because people definitely get custom-engraved, sentimentally-loaded, personally-designed weapons all the time for their totally casual, not-at-all serious partners.” You stared at him, shifting slightly at his call out.

”Well, what matters more than your over analyzing is that he’s going to love it.” You paused, “Oh, and by the way, I’m going to be throwing a little party for him tomorrow, if you don’t mind of course.” He sighed.

”I don’t really have a choice do I?” You shook your head.

”Not really. You’re welcome to come by the way.” You said jokingly, “Just try not to scare off the guests.” You added.

”Please, I’m the life of the party.” You stood up from the stool.

”Yeah? Tell that to the last one where you made Peter cry during beer pong.” Tony laughed.

”Hey, I was teaching him the life lesson of losing.” You snorted, shaking your head, “If he couldn’t handle one loss, he’s got bigger problems.” You smirked.

”I think it was the hangover that really got him, but anyways, I gotta go hide this and start getting everything together. Thank you again, and please thank Shuri too.” He nodded.

”I’ll see you at the party.”

————

When you returned to your room you were thankful that Bucky wasn’t in your bed just yet, it gave you the opportunity to hide his gift in your closet, underneath a bunch of junk he wouldn’t care to look through. Satisfied with the hiding spot, you stretched out your back, grabbing a pair of shorts, and a t-shirt. You swapped your outfit to your sleeping clothes, knowing Bucky would be here soon. You pushed your hair out of your face, throwing yourself down on your bed, crawling under the blankets, getting comfortable before turning on the television, absentmindedly flipping through channels.

The familiar creak of your door opening echoed through your room, seeing Bucky slip in. He had a habit of just letting himself in, never bothering to knock. He was wearing a pair of black sweatpants, and a grey t-shirt that clung to every muscle on his body. You liked it when he wore casual clothes, he looked comfortable.

“Comfy already, huh?” He asked, seeing how settled in you were, your body tucked under the thick blankets, leaving only your head exposed. You smirked at him.

”Well, some of us don’t take an hour to get ready for bed, princess.” He huffed out a laugh, shutting the door behind him completely.

”Very funny.” He said, reaching for the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head in one swift motion. You tried hard not to stare, but every time you saw him shirtless it was like the first time all over again, the way you felt your heart race when he revealed himself to you, when you ran your hands over his broad expanse of skin, kissing everywhere you could. It was hard not to be enamoured by him still, and he always caught you looking at him, with your bottom lip tucked between your teeth. He smirked, his cheeks turning a blush red, as he slipped under the covers beside you, propping himself up on his elbow.

”Always staring.” He commented, as you nudged him with your foot.

”I’m just admiring.” He let out a low hum, watching as you turned onto your side to face him, his arm curling around you, to bring your body close to his, feeling his hand slip beneath your shirt, resting on your back. His sweet aftershave tickled your nose, as his scent completely engulfed you; woods, pine and a little bit of salt.

“Oh really, I guess we have different definitions of admiring.” You felt his fingers tracing slow lazy circles against your skin, as his vibranium arm slid beneath your pillow.

”And what’s your definition?” Bucky’s blue eyes flickered over you, the corner of his lips twitching up.

”My definition? When someone appreciates something from a respectable distance…Not when they’re eyeing me like a snack every time I take my shirt off.” You let out a mock gasp, pressing a hand against his chest.

“You think I’m looking at you like a snack?” He nodded, as your legs snaked around him, his thigh resting against the seam of your shorts. “Don’t discount yourself so much…It’s more like I’m looking at you like you’re a full-course meal.” He laughed nervously at your correction, still getting flustered at the way you flirted with him, shaking his head.

”You’re ridiculous.” You smiled up at him, running your hand along his chest.

”I love how flustered I make you when I say stuff like that.” He rolled his eyes.

”You do know women back in the 40’s weren’t as forward as you, right? I’m allowed to blush.” You shifted a bit, so his thigh was slotted more firmly between yours, feeling the way his muscles flexed at the contact, as a warm heat curled low in your stomach.

“I’m sure they were saying it about you behind your back.” You whispered, his fingers trailing up your spine, his nose brushing against yours, lips hovering just out of reach.

“Oh yeah? You think they were writing about me in their diaries?” His voice was smooth, sultry in a way that was slow and steady. You breathed in his breath, tilting your head slightly.

”Please…With that face? Those baby blue eyes? They were probably clawing at each other to talk to you.” You responded, your fingers trailing down his chest, grazing over the muscles of his stomach.

”Man…You really think I was a heartbreaker back then huh?” You let out a soft laugh, your hand settling on the waistband of his sweatpants.

”I don’t think…I know.” Bucky shook his head, his fingers flexing against your back, pressing you closer to him, dragging you on his thigh in the process, needing to feel you on him, your lips parting slightly at the friction, his fingers grazing down your flesh to hold your waist gently.

”Well, I guess it doesn’t really matter now, does it?” His chest vibrated against yours, his breath tickling your skin, as his lips brushed against the corner of your mouth, your fingers curling around his waistband.

“And why’s that?” You asked, his lips pressing against your jaw gently.

”Because the only person I want thinking about me like that now…Is you.” He whispered, your teeth biting the inside of your bottom lip, his words pooling in the pit of your stomach. Now you were the one who’s cheeks were on fire. He was always like this when it was just the two of you- soft, unguarded.

”You think I spend my time daydreaming about you?” You teased, shifting against his thigh again, getting even closer to him, if that was even possible. Bucky exhaled sharply at the sensation, his grip on your waist tightening.

”I know you do,” He countered, watching as you leaned your head back so he could get access to your neck, your flesh prickling up at the way his hot breath fanned out over the expanse, nipping gently with his teeth, “Just like I think about you all the damn time.” Your fingers curled tighter around his waistband.

”All the time, hmm?” You murmured, your heart pounding against your chest, feeling his vibranium arm move out from under your pillow, slipping under you so he could shift on top of you gently, without putting all his weight on you, your leg perched on his waist

”Mmhmm. Didn’t you ever wonder why I always found an excuse to be around you?” You let out a soft laugh.

”I figured it was because you liked to annoy me.” Bucky pulled back, shaking his head.

”Well that too, but it was mostly because I couldn’t stay away.” You couldn’t help but smile at the way he whispered like it was some sort of secret, a hidden anecdote, even though you had known right away that he had feelings when he began wanting to be around you more. You ran your hand up his chest, tracing over the faint scars that had mapped out pieces of his past. Your touch was always gentle, reverent in a way that made him immediately settle. You leaned in, placing a kiss on his chest, right near his vibranium arm.

“You’re such a sap.” He let out a soft chuckle.

”I can top what I just said by a mile if you like sappiness.” Your lips tilted against his skin, pressing another lingering kiss to the same spot before lifting your eyes to meet his gaze.

“Go on…” You encouraged, watching his lips curl into a lopsided smile, as he brought his hand up to cradle your cheek, his vibranium hand slipping down to the top of your shorts.

”I used to think about this…” He admitted, the cool metal sliding beneath your waistband, against your skin, but not going to where you wanted him the most, not right now at least, because he always took his time with you, “Touching you like this…Having you like this.” His words sent shivers down your spine, the rasp of his voice vibrating against you, as his thumb traced the shape of your lips, his heavy-lidded eyes watching, feeling your hips moving up towards his touch, trying to guide him to where you wanted his hand.

“Bucky…” You breathed out, saying his name like it was a prayer on your tongue, your grip on his waistband tightening even more, feeling his vibranium hand travel lower into your shorts.

”Every night…I would think about what sounds you’d make if I touched you like this.” He confessed, his fingers grazing against your clit, your back arching towards him a small gasp escaping your lips. He always found a rhythm that made you squirm, and tonight was no different, he wanted to draw this out as long as he could, and wanted to unravel you in all the ways possible. His lips covered yours, swallowing another gasp that nearly escaped your throat, his tongue slipping into your mouth, desperate to taste you, as your hips moved against his fingers, adding additional pressure for yourself. He pulled back, out of breath, his eyes searching yours as your hand came up to hold the back of his, leaning into his touch.

“God you’re so beautiful...” He whispered, moving his vibranium hand lower, gathering your arousal on his fingers, before slipping two of them into you, a moan escaping your throat, trying to let it out quietly so nobody would hear. Your back arched towards him, your lashes fluttering closed, feeling his cool metal fingers curling slightly inside of you, moving them with agonizing slowness, so you could feel every ridge of the vibranium. He knew that if he wanted to he could make you finish in a minute because of how familiar you were to him, but tonight was not one of those nights, he just wanted to be close to you, wanted to cherish you for the night. He savoured every soft sound that slipped past your lips, as he leaned down peppering small kisses along your hot cheeks, trailing down the side of your throat, his stubble scraping over the skin, another breathless moan escaping you.

”I could listen to you all fucking night.” He commented, his hand falling from your cheek, coming to cup the side of your neck, “But I also would like you to look at me please…” He added, his thumb stroking a slow, deliberate path along your throat where your pulse pounded against his touch. Your eyes, still heavy with pleasure, fluttered open, meeting his gaze, a small smile draped on his face.

”That’s it…” He praised, his lips grazing your temple, your hips bucking against his fingers, your walls tightening around them, “That’s my good girl.” He whispered, his voice thick with affection, as he pulled your shirt off your shoulder, so he could gently suck on the skin of your collarbone, knowing exactly where your weak spots were, the speed of his fingers slowly increasing.

“Is this what you think about when you’re alone? My hands on you, my fingers inside you, stretching you…Fucking you.” You shuddered against him, the deep, raspy tone in his voice sending shivers down your spine. Bucky’s control was maddening to you, it was perfectly measured, and perfectly torturous. You reached for his bicep, your nails digging into the warm flesh, while you continued to roll your hips against his hand. You needed more, and you weren’t above begging for it.

“Bucky, p-please.” You gasped, your voice trembling, your heartbeat shaking your chest just enough that it was intruding on your speech. Your thighs tightened around his waist. “Fuck please…I need you to go faster.” He hummed against your skin, pulling away slightly.

”You sound so pretty when you beg.” He whispered, his hot breath sticking to your bruised skin, as he appeased your request, his fingers curling more inside you, picking up the pace a bit, knowing that you would be writhing beneath him in an instant. He could feel you tighten around him, your body arching beneath him, your legs squeezing his waist, pressing desperately into his touch, into him. His movements were precise, like he knew your body better than you did, like he wanted to pull every sound from you. Your nails dug into his bicep even deeper, gripping him like he was anchoring you as he pushed you closer to the edge.

“Bucky holy fuck.” You wept, your breath coming in short, uneven breaths. He pressed a gentle kiss to your collarbone, before bringing his mouth to your ear.

“You gonna come for me baby?” The rasp of his voice was all consuming, his words curling around you, pulling you into the heat of the moment, your body meshing with his. You could feel his lips press a small, wet kiss against the spot just below your ear, “Answer me sweetheart.”

“Y-Y-Yes, Bucky…Fuck.” You moaned, and then you fell off the edge. A sharp gasp escaping your throat, your body tensing beneath him, pleasure crashing over you in waves, shaking beneath him, clenching around his body and his fingers. Bucky didn’t stop, he didn’t look away, he drank up every second with joy flashing in his eyes. He loved giving you pleasure, and this was the payoff, watching you unravel, feeling you tense around him, and dig your nails into his arm.

“So perfect.” He whispered, hearing you let out a small whimper, hypersensitive to his touch, still pulsing around him, your body trembling as the aftershocks of your orgasm rolled through you slowly. You tried to catch your breath, feeling Bucky running his thumb over the column of your throat, watching you patiently, his body heat against yours, his mouth pressing soft kisses to your jaw, his fingers slipping out of you slowly.

“Still with me?” He asked gently. You swallowed, forcing your eyes open to meet his dark blue ones.

”Y-Yeah.” You managed to force out, a smirk coming up on his lips, sliding his hand out of your shorts, bringing it up into your view, showing it glistening with the evidence of your pleasure, as he slowly cleaned them off with his tongue, humming in approval.

”Always so sweet.” You were wrecked by the sight, the coil in your stomach already reigniting. You wanted to return the favour immediately. You released his bicep, your hand tracing down to the waistband of his sweatpants, making your intent clear, but the moment before you could untie the knot, he stopped you.

”Not tonight.” He murmured.

”But-“

“Uh-uh…I just wanted to take care of you tonight, that’s all I wanted…” He whispered, leaning in to kiss you, tasting yourself on his lips, his wet fingers coming up to caress the side of your neck, as he slipped off to the side of you, pulling away from the kiss.

“Fine…But tomorrow I’m definitely getting you back.” He held his hands up in defence.

”You can do whatever you want, I promise, I won’t stop you.” A slow, calculating smirk formed across your lips, narrowing your eyes at him

”You better not.” You warned, your fingers trailing up the rigid planes of his chest. He let out a low chuckle.

”I mean it…You can have your way with me however you want.” You hummed, your mind already spinning with plans. He caught the look on your face, the way your lips curved, how your eyes darkened with lust behind them. He let out a breath of laughter, “And you’re already plotting something, so I guess I’ll take that as a success.”

————

When you woke up the next morning, Bucky was gone. He had left a note on his pillow, scrawled in his messy handwriting, telling you Steve and him had plans and that he would be seeing you tonight. Thankfully, you already knew about this, because you were the one that had set this up to get him out of the tower, it was to buy you time to get his party together. You slid out of bed, rolling your shoulders, shaking the exhaustion out of your body, a soft sigh escaping into the air as you slipped out of your room. You moved through the hallway, and into the living room. It was a controlled mess of decorations, with boxes of supplies stacked on the table and strewn about the floor. Natasha stood in the middle of it all with a coffee mug in hand, sipping slowly, her eyes settling on you as you came into her line of sight.

”Good morning sunshine. You look like a wreck.” You pushed your hair out of your face, making your way to the kitchen.

”Thank you, Nat. I had a late night yesterday.” She smirked over the rim of her mug.

”Let me guess, you were up giving the birthday boy his special gift?” She teased, as you poured yourself a cup of coffee, shaking your head at her.

”You’d be surprised to know that I was in fact not doing that.” Natasha raised a brow at her.

”Yeah? Then why do you look so tired?” She asked. You opened your mouth to answer, but before you could Wanda sauntered into the room, a knowing smirk playing on her lips, cradling a steaming cup of tea in her hands.

”Cause they were busy running the bases and not hitting home…If that’s what the term is of course.” Natasha choked on her coffee, her head snapping at you laughing a bit.

”Oh…So you guys didn’t have sex, you just ran the bases, is that a normal occurrence?” You groaned, rubbing your forehead with one hand while the other clutched your coffee mug.

”You two are relentless, you know that?” You commented.

”Well you never spill the beans about it, and we’re all curious because we literally hear you guys. So what do you expect us to do?” Wanda asked, taking a seat on the couch.

“Yeah, and on top of that I’m more curious about the dynamic here. You guys say you’re casual, but you sleep in each other’s beds every night, and are pretty much attached to the hip.” You sighed, putting your coffee mug down on the counter.

”We are casual…We have an understanding, an agreement, it’s plain and simple. Keep things light, have fun, and don’t make things complicated.” Natasha hummed.

“Right…Even though he worships the ground you walk on.” You rolled your eyes.

”He doesn’t worship me, he respects me, yes…But worship is extreme.” Wanda let out a small laugh.

”He absolutely does, you’re just blind.” Natasha took a sip of her coffee.

”He looks at you like you’re a miracle. He tracks you across a room like you’re the only person in it, and not only that but he stares at you…” You laughed a bit.

”Bucky always stares though, you guys are being dramatic.” You exclaimed, picking up your coffee mug again, taking another sip.

”Are we though?” Wanda challenged, tilting her head, “Let’s run through the facts, shall we? He only sleeps in a bed when you’re in it, he only lets you touch his vibranium arm, and he gets jealous when you’re talking to other guys…Remember that time we all went out to that bar downtown and that dude came up to you and hit on you? Then he was all broody for the rest of the night until you gave him some attention?” You groaned, putting the mug down again.

“Okay, fine…He got a little tense that time, but that doesn’t mean anything, he’s always been protective, you guys both know that.” They both sighed in unison.

”Fine, but what about the other things we listed for you…He’s vulnerable with you, he’s not like that with any of us, except Steve.” Natasha chimed in, as your fingers drummed against the countertop.

”Listen, he trusts me, that’s all there is to it. You guys are really looking too deeply into this, and I’m really not in the mood to defend our dynamic right now, so can we just call this a stalemate?” Wanda looked over at Natasha, then back to you.

”Stalemate it is…But just know, that when the whole casual thing implodes, we’ll be the people to say we told you so.” Wanda explained, your eyes glancing over at Natasha who smirked, taking another sip of her coffee.

”And we’re not going to be nice about it.” Natasha added.

————

The three of you worked for six hours decorating the living room, transforming it into something that actually looked like a party instead of a chaotic mess of things that got thrown together at the last minute. Banners were hung, the furniture was rearranged to give everyone more space to freely move around, and twinkling lights were strung up around the room to give it more of a laid back look. A giant “Happy Birthday, Bucky” sign stretched across the wall behind the bar, and the tables were lined with food, drinks, and an impressive-looking cake that looked too massive for the amount of people that were coming. Clint said bigger was better, so you couldn’t fault him for making that choice. Guests began to arrive soon after, which was your cue to go get changed before things got too chaotic.

You slipped into your room, shutting the door behind you, with your pulse thrumming in anticipation. You opened up your closet, pulling out the clothes that you already had set up for yourself. It was simple, a black wrap dress, thin and silky, with a deep v neckline that showed enough to tease, and a tie that held it all together. You had also prepared what you would be wearing under the dress, a matching set of black lace lingerie, delicate, and intricate, designed with the sole purpose of temptation.

You ran your fingers over the soft lace, your body already humming with excitement. The bra barely covered anything, the sheer fabric teasing more than it concealed, while the matching thong sat perfectly against your hips, accentuating every curve. The final touch was the lace garters that held up your thigh-high stockings, the tiny clasps clicking into place as you adjusted them.

Satisfied with how everything looked, you slipped into the silky wrap dress, the fabric cool against your skin. You tied the knot at the side, securing it just enough to stay in place—but loose enough that a single pull would undo everything. It was perfect, not too fancy, but not too casual, just right for the occasion, and for the after party. Just as you were putting the last touches on, your phone buzzed on the nightstand.

Steve: Just pulled up with the birthday boy, hope everything is ready, he was becoming suspicious.

Your lips curled into a smirk.

You: Everything’s ready, you can come up whenever you get here :)

You put the phone back onto the nightstand, doing one last check in the mirror, adjusting the dress slightly so it fell perfectly on your body, sighing, before making your way out into the hallway. You could hear chatter, it sounded like during the time you were in your bedroom more guests had arrived, which brought you some comfort that people got your invitations. The second you turned the corner into the living room you spotted Peter hovering near the snack table, eyeing the cake, his fingers twitching at his sides like he was restraining himself from stealing a piece. You shook your head, going over to him, sneaking up behind him.

”Don’t even think about it, Spider-Boy.” Peter practically jumped out of his skin, spinning around so fast he nearly knocked over a plate of appetizers. His face flushing a deep shade of red, rubbing the back of his neck, knowing that he was caught red-handed.

”I wasn’t doing anything…Okay, m-maybe I was thinking about it but I wasn’t actually going to do it.” He stammered, glancing between you and the cake behind him, “It’s just right there, and it does look quite delicious.” You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Mhm…” You responded, knowing he would continue to dig his own grave. He rocked back and forth on his heels.

”Alright, in my defense, Clint did say it was big, which means we would have extra cake, so a tiny little bite wouldn’t have been missed.” You raised your eyebrows at him.

“It would be noticed. You’re not that sneaky, and I would also tell Bucky it was you.” Peter’s eyes widened.

”You wouldn’t.” You smirked, leaning in just enough, lowering your voice.

”Oh, but I would.” He groaned, “It’s called having self-control Peter, you gotta try it sometime.” You commented, patting his shoulder. Before he could argue Natasha’s voice rang through the room.

”They’re coming up! Everyone shut it and get into place!” The room instantly fell into a frenzy. People scrambled, ducking behind furniture, moving into place near the bar, and switching off the overhead lights so only the twinkling decorations remained. You hurried into position, standing near the center where you’d have a perfect view of Bucky when he walked in, hiding behind the coffee table to be sure he wouldn’t see you, your heart pounding in anticipation as the elevator dinged.

”SURPRISE!” The room erupted into cheers, party poppers bursting into the air as Steve used Bucky inside. You could see from where you were that Bucky looked completely caught off guard, his brows furrowing, scanning over the room, taking in the decorations, the banner, the crowd of people waiting just for him. Then, slowly, his expression softened.

“You guys…” His voice quieter than expected, almost uncertain, nervous even, but there was such warmth in his gaze that you could tell he was touched by the gesture. Steve wrapped his arm around Bucky’s shoulders, grinning widely.

”Told you we had plans.” He said, laughing a bit as Sam walked up to him.

”And by we, he means her.” He nodded in your direction, Bucky’s gaze following, landing on you in an instant as you rose from your spot, with your hands up, ready to claim innocence. You could see his eyes roaming over your outfit, the way your curves were accentuated, and the amount of skin he was able to drink in.

”I know you didn’t want a party…But I just couldn’t resist.” You said, moving towards him with your lips forming a small smile. Bucky let out a soft laugh, crossing his arms over his chest as you took up the space in front of him.

”You really did this all for me huh?” You shrugged playfully, tilting your head up to meet his gaze.

”Of course I did.” Bucky sighed, shaking his head, his blue eyes flickering at you.

”There was no need to go through all this trouble.” You reached out, brushing your fingers over his forearm.

”I wanted to do this for you.” His gaze scanned over the room again, taking in the way everyone was gathered just for him. It was almost overwhelming that people cared about him enough to show up, and he could feel his heart clench in his chest just thinking about how much work you put in to get everything together within the day basically.

”Well…I’ll admit it's very nice.” He said softly, you smiled up at him, fingers still resting lightly on his forearm, dragging up the skin, causing goosebumps to form.

“Nice? That’s all I get?” You teased, tilting your head to the side, “I was hoping for spectacular…Incredible…Maybe even the best party you’ve ever had.” Bucky let out a huffed laugh, shaking his head at you.

”Alright…It’s perfect. Happy now?” Your fingers trailed a little higher up his arm, nails skimming over the fabric of his shirt, feeling the way his muscles tensed every so slightly beneath your touch.

”I’m getting there.” You murmured, biting back a smirk. His tongue darted out to wet his lips.

”You enjoy torturing me, don’t you?” His voice is quieter now, his eyes roaming over you discreetly.

”I enjoy making your birthday special…How I do that is a different conversation entirely.” He squinted at you, shifting his weight, stepping just a little closer, his body brushing against yours, testing the waters.

”You keep talking like that, doll, and I’m gonna start thinking you have some alternative plans for me tonight.” He whispered, his breath hitting your cheeks, causing them to heat up.

”Mmm, and what if I do?” You responded.

”Then I’d say you’re playing a dangerous game.” He murmured, his eyes darkening just a little in the lighting, “And I gotta warn you, I don’t like losing.” A knowing smile danced on your lips.

”Well too bad for you, cause I always win.” His fingers twitched at his side, his metal hand flexing slightly before he let it settle on his hip, like he was physically restraining himself from acting on whatever thoughts were running through his mind. His gaze flickered down, just for a moment, taking in the way the silky fabric of your dress clung to your frame, how that little tie at your hip was just begging to be undone, how the lace of your bra peaked out from the neckline, teasing him, tempting him.

”You really like pushing me, don’t you?” Your smirk widened, tilting your head, your lips almost touching his jaw.

”I just like seeing how much you can handle.” You could sense the lust filling up in Bucky’s eyes, the way they softened, the way his pupils dilated, the hint of blush that dusted his cheeks…You were making him frustrated, and you were enjoying every second of it. Before he could push the moment any further, a loud cough interrupted.

”Alright you two, break it up. No need to eye fuck in the middle of the party huh?” Sam said, wrapping his arm over Bucky’s shoulders, pulling him away from you slightly, hearing him let out a low groan.

”You’ve got the worst timing, Wilson.” Sam grinned, completely unfazed.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ve heard it all before. But considering you two were about five seconds away from turning this party into an erotic novel, I figured I’d save everyone the secondhand embarrassment.” You smirked, crossing your arms over your chest.

”Jealous, Wilson?” You asked, raising an eyebrow at him, causing Sam to bark out a laugh.

”Of what? Watching Barnes go from brooding soldier to a lovestruck fool in real-time? Not in the slightest Y/N.” Bucky scoffed at the comment, shaking his head before sending you a side glance.

”We’ll take this up later.” He murmured, your smirk widening.

”I’d be disappointed if we didn’t.” Before Bucky could say anything else, Sam tugged him toward the bar, waving a dismissive hand at you.

”Go on you little troublemaker, let the birthday boy have a drink before he explodes.” You watched them walk away, Bucky shooting a small glance over his shoulder, before he lost you in the crowd. You bit your lip, feeling your stomach twist, the excitement already building inside you.

The party continued in full swing, laughter and conversation filling the room, but despite the crowd, the music, and the drinks flowing freely, Bucky was the only thing on your mind. Even from across the room, you could feel his eyes on you. Every time you glanced in his direction, you found his gaze lingering, burning into you with an intensity that made your skin prickle. He wasn’t even trying to be subtle about it, and neither were you.

Then finally, you caught him while he was alone, leaning against the bar, with his fingers gripping the edge like he was physically restraining himself. You knew it was your chance to strike. You approached slowly, his eyes on you immediately, watching as you got through the crowd with ease. Finally you were in his space again.

”Enjoying the party?” You asked nonchalantly, swirling your vodka cran around in your glass, taking a small sip, licking the excess off your lips. Bucky gulped, his eyes flickering from your lips to the curve of your throat, down to where the silky fabric of your dress dipped just enough to tease.

”Am I enjoying the party?” He repeated, his voice rough, like it had been dragged over gravel. “I think you already know the answer to that.” You tilted your head, playing innocent.

”Oh? And what could the answer be?” Bucky exhaled sharply, as he leaned down, his breath hot against your ear.

”I haven’t been paying attention to it because I’ve been looking at you all night.” Your fingers toyed with the rim of your glass.

”Good.” Was all you could muster up to say, seeing his eyes darken, his hand clenching around his whiskey. You took another slow sip of your drink, watching him, before stepping closer, pressing your body against his, barely. You could feel his body tense up beside you.

Your nails dragged lightly up his skin, trailing the veins of his arm, over his shoulder, then lower, ghosting over the solid plane of his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your fingertips. He was crumbling, and you were enjoying every moment of it, because to you, the lust and his burning need for you was intoxicating. His breathing was uneven, and warm against your skin, as he cleared his throat.

”Y/N…If you keep touching me like this, I’m not going to be responsible for what happens next.” You revelled in the way his voice dropped an octave, straining, like he was barely hanging on. You got onto your tiptoes, leaning against him, your hot breath hitting the shell of his ear.

”Then don’t,” You whispered, letting your fingers trail down his stomach, his abs tensing beneath your touch. “Meet me in my room in five minutes.” You added, pulling back to see the way his jaw clenched at the instruction. His chest rose and fell in deep, controlled breaths, like he was trying to steady himself, but you knew…You had him in the palm of your hand. His eyes flickered to yours, dark, burning, full of heat.

”Five minutes?” He murmured, confirming it with you. You smirked at the way his voice cracked slightly, nodding.

”Don’t make me wait, birthday boy.” You replied. Before he could say anything else you turned on your heel and walked away, swaying your hips deliberately, knowing full well that his gaze was on you. Your heart was pounding with anticipation as you slipped through the crowd, weaving past the tipsy guests, going down the hallway, glancing over your shoulder, right as you entered your dimly lit room, closing the door behind you.

You let out a long exhale, tilting your head back to chug the rest of your drink, the anticipation building inside you like a burning coil. You walked over to your bed, grabbing his gift off the mattress, and hiding it in your nightstand, not wanting to give it to him just yet. Finally the door clicked open behind you, and before you could turn around the soft thud of it closing sent a shrill up your spine

“I think I waited four minutes,” Bucky rasped, pushing his hair out of his face, “Hope you don’t mind.” You smiled.

”Couldn’t even make it to five hmm?” You teased, keeping your distance from him.

”Not when I knew what was waiting for me in here.” You hummed, seeing his muscles tensing up. He was barely holding it together, and you were loving how worked up he was. Your fingers toyed with the knot of your dress, teasing without even touching him.

”Go sit on the bed.” You instructed softly. His eyes flickered with something dangerous, something dark, but he obeyed. Without a word, he walked over to the bed, turned and sat on the edge of it, his legs spreading slightly, his forearms resting on his thighs as he watched you with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine.

“Good boy…” You praised, already seeing his pants tenting from his erection. His chest rose and fell slowly, but you could see the tension in his jaw, the way his lips parted slightly, like he was on the verge of saying something, maybe begging even.

But you weren’t going to make it that easy for him.

You let your fingers slowly pull at the knot of your dress, watching as his eyes followed the movement with rapt attention. The silky fabric loosened, slipping off your shoulders before it cascaded down your body, pooling at your feet. His breath hitched audibly when he saw what was underneath, the intricate black lace, delicate and form fitting hugging every dip of your body, leaving just enough to the imagination to drive him insane. You took your time stepping forward to place yourself between his parted legs, your body just inches from his.

”Fuck Y/N…Look at you.” He whispered, his eyes roaming over your body. You reached out, breaking the touch barrier, letting your fingers gently travel down his shoulders, feeling the tension coiling beneath his skin, the ridges of his muscles twitching under your touch, dragging your nails down the fabric of his shirt before reaching the hem of it, tracing your fingers along it. You leaned in just a bit.

”Take it off.” Your hot breath stuck to his cheek, as you moved back, seeing Bucky’s jaw clench, seconds before he obliged, pulling off the shirt in one smooth motion, throwing it to the side, pushing his hair out of his face, his hands scraping against the stubble on his cheeks, his gaze never leaving yours. You took in a deep breath, your hand pressing against his chest, feeling the heat that radiated off him, the straining of the muscles from the resistance he was still putting up. He took his bottom lip between his teeth, looking up at you with pleading eyes.

”Can I touch you now?” You held his gaze, seeing the sheer desperation in his eyes, glimmering behind his blown out pupils. Your touch trailed up to the side of his neck, feeling his pulse bounding against your fingertips.

”You can touch me…” A sharp exhale left his lips, his hands shooting out before you could change your mind, immediately pulling you closer to him, his fingers digging into the lace on your hips. He placed a discreet kiss to the soft flesh of your stomach, before wrapping his arms around you to pull you onto his lap in one swift motion, your knees settling on either side of him, cushioned against the mattress beneath you, a soft giggle escaping your lips.

”Who gave you pointers on how to tease me so well?” He asked jokingly, his hands sliding up your back with slow, delicate strokes. You smirked.

”I know what makes you bounce off the walls, Bucky, I don’t need someone to teach me how to tease you…” You replied, feeling him placing open mouthed kisses along your collarbone, wetting the skin, each one sending tiny sparks down your spine. His hands stopped at the clip of your bra, tracing the trim of the lace with his fingertips as he hummed against you.

”Well you’re a fucking professional.” His tongue poking out to trail up your neck, your nails digging into his back, “And I can’t help myself because you are impossible to resist.” He whispered, his breath cooling the path of saliva on your skin. His hands, both warm and cool, pulled at the fastening of your bra slowly, loosening the garment, letting it slip from your shoulders. You slid your arms out from the straps, moving back to throw it off to the side, returning to him quickly, pressing your chest against his, your hearts beating in sync. He tilted his head up, his lips meeting yours, a slow-burning intensity pooling in the pit of your stomach. The kiss was deep, and unhurried, the both of you moving your hands along each other, touching every expanse of skin that was exposed. You opened your mouth for him, letting his tongue slip in, the taste of whiskey immediately hitting your senses, as you rocked your hips against him, earning a groan from Bucky, his hands slipping down to grip your hips tightly. You pressed against him even harder, adjusting your position so there was more pressure on his erection that was straining against the fabric of his pants.

Bucky’s breath hitched in his throat, feeling the heat of your core pressing against him, the friction alone making his head fall back slightly, pulling away from the heated kiss in the process, exposing his throat to you. His breathing picked up just a little faster as you leaned in, your lips ghosting against his jaw, while you ran your hands down his chest, reaching for the buckle of his belt.

“Y/N…” He moaned breathlessly, his fingers digging into your hips even more.

”Shh,” You whispered, placing an opened mouthed kiss against the side of his neck, your teeth grazing over the semi-healed bruise you had left a few days prior, a smile ghosting over the skin, knowing you had him right where you wanted him. Your fingers moved quickly, undoing his belt, pulling it free in one smooth motion, the leather slipping through the loops with a soft swishing sound, throwing it over to the pile of clothes that continued to grow. His chest heaved, feeling your fingers returning to the button and zipper of his pants, your hands dipping beneath the fabric to feel the warmth of his skin, and to push them off his hips. He lifted himself slightly, holding you with one hand as he pushed the pants down with the other, shaking them off his legs, his eyes still locked onto yours, bringing your body back down to his once he shook the fabric off his legs, his mouth meeting yours again in an all encompassing kiss, the both of your releasing harsh breaths, adjusting yourselves.

Your hips shifted against him, feeling a damp patch seeping through the fabric of his boxers, evidence of just how worked up you had gotten him already. You smiled into the kiss, pulling back to meet his gaze, a grunt escaping his throat.

”You’re fucking killing me here Y/N…Please god…” He whimpered, so desperate he felt like he was choking on his own breath. You reached down, dragging your fingers over the growing wet patch, over the outline of his cock, watching the way his eyes fluttered closed, his hands flexing against your waist.

“Let’s take these off hmm?” Your voice remained so calm, yet his actions were so hurried that you were almost thrown off him because of how quick he shifted his hips up to help you push his boxers down. The second the last barrier for him was gone, his hands were immediately grabbing at your thighs, dragging you close to him, pressing you down over the soft, warm skin of his erection, the wetness from his precum causing you to shiver, knowing he was aching to be inside of you. You could hear his ragged, labored breathing, his vibranium hand splaying over your lower back, locking you into place so you didn’t move against him, like he was going to cum at any time because of how worked up he was. His forehead rested on yours, closing his eyes tightly, like he was trying to refocus, or distract himself from the overwhelming sensations that coursed through his veins. You reached up, pushing his hair away from his cheeks.

“I think I’ve tortured you enough hmm?” You teased, your voice dripping with satisfaction, seeing his eyelids flutter open, his gaze dark and hazy.

“You really have, I don’t think I’ll last long.” He admitted, his fingers trailing up your thigh to the lace trim of your underwear, “Can I please take these off?” He asked, his tone on the brink of whining. You nodded, only to hear the distinct rip of lace as he tore the side of them right at the seam, moving to the other side to do the same, taking the fabric off completely, letting it fall somewhere behind you.

”Bucky!” You scolded, breathless, looking down at him, seeing a smile coming up on his face, his hands slipping around to palm the curve of your ass, bringing you against him again.

”I’ll take you shopping tomorrow,” He murmured, his lips carefully dragging across your jaw, “You can pick out as many pairs as you want…But I gotta warn you, I might just end up ruining all of those too.” He added, massaging the supple flesh of your ass, before sliding his hands onto your thighs, shifting beneath you, adjusting himself. His pupils were completely blown wide, engulfing what little blue he had left from his irises, his lips were parted, and he was blushing so much his cheeks looked like they were suborned. You could feel his hands trembling against the flesh of your thighs, his body strung so tight that he was on the verge of snapping at any moment.

You shifted, lifting yourself just enough to reach between the both of you, your fingers wrapping around his cock, feeling how thick, and heavy he was in your grasp. Bucky let out a sharp, strangled moan against you, his fingers digging deeply into the soft flesh of your thighs, your thumb running over the tip, spreading the precum that dripped from it along the head, watching Bucky’s jaw fall open.

”Fuck, please, please, I’m gonna lose my mind Y/N…I need you so bad.” The words came out so jumbled you could barely make it out, all you could hear was how his voice was cracking, like he couldn’t take it anymore. You could feel your face heat up at how frustrated he was, as you slowly guided him against you, letting the head of his cock slip down your folds so he could feel how wet you were for him, the anticipation burning between the both of you.

Then you gently lowered yourself down onto him, taking him inch by inch, craving the stretch that his well endowed member provided every single time without fail. You could feel his arms tighten around you, as he let out a shuddered gasp, his forehead falling onto your shoulder, his breath coming in short uneven bursts. Once he was fully seated inside of you, pulsing faintly against your walls, he let out another shaky breath.

”Stay still…” He rasped, his voice wrecked, “Just for a m-minute…Just…Fuck I just need a moment.” You nodded, feeling him trembling beneath you. You smoothed your hands up his back, his muscles flexing slightly, his hot breath hitting the top of your breast.

“Fuck…Y/N…You’re gonna push me over the edge if you keep touching me like that.” You smiled down at him, pressing a soft kiss to his temple.

”Sorry…” You whispered, halting your movements, just settling your hands on his skin, feeling his heartbeat slamming against your chest. He let out a long shaky breath, his hands coming back to hold onto your waist. You could feel the tension coiled tight inside him, the pulsing of his cock, the way he lifted his head up off your shoulder and kissed the side of your neck.

“It’s never felt like this before…” He admitted, still taking in sharp breaths. You leaned back, looking down at him, pushing his damp hair off his sweaty forehead, watching the way his eyes fluttered closed at the sensation.

“Well I did work you up quite a lot, I don’t do that often.” You explained, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, “We can go slow though, maybe it’ll help relieve a bit of the tension.” You suggested gently, seeing his eyes slowly flutter open, looking up at you with a glistening gaze, his fingers squeezing the flesh on your hips softly.

”O-Okay.” He stuttered, holding you close as you shifted above him, moving your hips slowly, pulling off him before pushing back down, listening to him take in sharp breaths, a moan falling from his lips, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed hard.

“Jesus…You…” He cut himself off with a groan, his arms wrapping around you, pulling you against him even more. You leaned down.

”I what, Bucky?” You whispered, teasing, continuing your slow movements above him.

”You feel…” His words caught again, feeling your hips roll against his, drawing another sharp exhale from him, his eyes flickering up to yours, “You feel so good.” You reach out to him, holding his cheeks in your hands, leaning down to place a heated kiss against his lips, his mouth opening for you immediately, so your tongues can intertwine in a sloppy battle of dominance, your movements picking up in pace, a moan escaping Bucky’s throat, his hips pushing up to meet yours, the both of you pulling away from the kiss, lips swollen, your mouths glistening from the wetness of your tongues.

”I can’t believe this is all for me.” He rasped, one hand sliding up to cup your jaw, pulling you back down into another bruising kiss, moaning into your mouth, the hand on your jaw moving lower to hold your throat gently, squeezing just a little, making your breath hitch.

”I’m so fucking lucky…You’re so fucking perfect like this.” His hips snapping up to meet yours, the tip of his cock pressing against your cervix, a shiver rolling down your spine with how deep he was.

“Bucky…” His name spilled out from your lips, the tone in your voice triggering something in him. His vibranium arm wrapped around your waist, guiding your movements as he continued to thrust up to meet you, getting deeper each time, bottoming out.

“Tell me that no one makes you feel like this.” He whispered, holding your throat still, tightening just a little to heighten every sensation that wracked through your body.

”No one,” You breathed, “No one but you, Bucky.” A deep, satisfied groan rumbled from his chest, his lips returning to yours, his desperation evident in the way he kissed you, in the way he moved inside you, staking his claim, even though he already knew he had you just where he wanted you, feeling you slowly surrender to him, just like he surrendered to you long ago. He held you in place, rutting up into you, dragging you closer to the edge, making you tremble in his arms, your nails scraping down his back.

“You’re all fucking mine.” He growled, nipping at your bottom lip, soothing the sting with his tongue, “Fuck…I can’t believe I get to have you like this.” He moaned out, feeling your walls clench around him, the sound of his skin slapping against yours echoing through the room. Your nails dug into his shoulders, a whimper escaping your lips, his teeth scraping over the column of your throat, his eyes staying on yours, every single nerve ending setting on fire in your body.

“Bucky…” His name tumbled from your lips, in a breathless, broken moan and it sent his self-control out the window, his hips snapping up to meet yours, pulling you flush against him. His vibranium hand pressing against your lower back, keeping you in place as he drove into you, deeper, harder, sending wave after wave of pleasure crashing through you.

Your body arched, your breath catching in your throat as your orgasm tore through you, so intense, so overwhelming, that a soft, choked sob escaped your lips. Tears welled in your eyes, spilling down your cheeks, the sheer force of your release leaving you utterly undone. Bucky could feel your walls tighten on him, saw the way your body trembled above him, heard the way you gasped his name and clung to him, making his head spin.

“Fuck,” He growled, his fingers digging into the flesh of your back, burning himself inside you, as his own release took him under, his body tensing beneath you, groaning into the curve of your neck. You could feel his warmth filling you up in hot ropes, his body jerking against you to push his cum deeper into you. He sunk his teeth into the soft flesh where your neck and shoulder met, trying to hold himself still, trying to ground himself.

Then he felt it, the slight shake of your body, the uneven breaths…A sniffle. He pulled back immediately from your skin, looking up at you with his brows furrowed, catching sight of your glistening face, your lips parted as you tried to catch your breath.

”Shit,” His voice instantly changed, laced with concern, his hand coming up to cup your face gently, his fingers feeling the dampness your tears had left in their wake, “Y/N…Fuck did I hurt you?” He asked, panic flickering behind his blown-out pupils, his thumb wiping beneath your eye. You shook your head quickly, letting out a breathless laugh.

”No, no,” You whispered, your voice still shaky from the aftershocks, “It was just so much all at once…In the best way possible.” You could see relief wash over his expression, though his eyes still searched yours, making sure you weren’t lying to him. His lips parted like he wanted to say something, but instead he just pulled you closer, pressing soft, lingering kisses along your damp cheeks, your temple, your jaw, anywhere he could reach, tasting the saltiness of your tears.

After a moment, he shifted, lifting you effortlessly as he stood up, climbing onto the bed fully, laying you against the mattress, pulling out of you slowly, before the both of you intertwined your bodies, side by side, still keeping the close proximity, his arms tangling around you. He pressed absentminded kisses against your forehead, letting the silence stretch between you, his thumbs wiping off the remaining dampness that coated your cheeks. You hummed softly, your fingertips tracing the lines of his abdomen, feeling weightless against him.

“We should probably head back out to the party soon.” You murmured, though there was no real conviction behind what you said. A groan rumbled in his chest, as he buried his face into your neck, kissing the flesh.

”I don’t think I’m gonna be able to move for at least fifteen minutes.” He admitted, the both of you laughing together in unison, as you reached up to run your fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp.

”I agree with you there, honestly…They probably already know where we are anyways.” You said, feeling his arm curling tighter around you.

”Oh they definitely know,” His voice was laced with exhaustion, but also with deep content, not having a care in the world at this point, only focusing on you.

“Doesn’t matter anyways…They knew we were gonna end up like this.” He nodded.

”Yeah because you’re a little sex maniac.” You rolled your eyes playfully, leaning into him, your heart racing at the way he continued to hold onto you, running his hands over your body, in a soothing caress. But then, a thought flickered in your mind…His gift. You had nearly forgotten in the haze of everything that had transpired.

You shifted slightly, reaching over him, opening up the drawer of your nightstand, feeling around for the long velvet box. Bucky turned himself, seeing what you were reaching for, his brows pulling together.

”What’s this?” He asked, as you handed it to him, sitting up a bit.

”It’s your real gift…” You informed, seeing Bucky smirk at you.

”Are you telling me the mind-blowing sex wasn’t the real gift?” You laughed, feeling your face heat up as you shook your head at him.

”No no…That was the pregame for this.” He squinted at you curiously, before he cracked open the box, his eyes immediately widening, sitting up instantly, his warmth leaving you, staring down at the box, at the knife it held. You sat up with him, shifting closer, resting your chin on his shoulder. Your arms wrapping around his stomach, paying attention to the way his fingers traced the engravings. Bucky swallowed loudly.

”These are coordinates?” He asked, and you nodded, pressing a soft kiss to his shoulder blade.

”The top one is for Brooklyn, and bottom one is for Avengers Tower…Brooklyn because that’s where you grew up with Steve, and here because it’s where you found yourself again…Where you found home, where you…” Found family, found belonging , found me, you thought, letting the sentence kind of trail off, not being able to finish it. There was a long moment of silence where neither of you said anything, as his fingers traced over the engravings, again, and again, committing them to memory through touch alone, his shoulders rising and falling with each breath he took.

“You really put a lot of thought into this.” He said, breaking the silence, trying to process everything.

”Of course I did,” You replied softly, your arms squeezing around him, “It’s you.” Another stretch of silence followed again. You were about to say something, maybe to lighten the moment, tease him about how he’d better not lose it, when he suddenly set the box down on the nightstand and turned toward you, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you against his broad chest. The embrace was firm, his face burying itself into your neck, as he took in a deep breath.

”God I love you…” He whispered so quietly that you almost missed it. Your heart nearly stopped. It slipped out of him like he had been holding it in for so long, and judging by the way he said it, he felt like now was the best time. You pulled back slightly, just enough to see his face, the look in his eyes breaking you, seeing the exact moment where the panic set in.

”i-I didn’t mean…” He sucked in a sharp breath, shaking his head like he was trying to backpedal, attempting to put the words back into his mouth, “I mean, I did mean it but…Fuck I didn’t mean to say it like that, I…” His fingers twitched along your back, pulling back a little more so you couldn’t feel his heart hammering against his chest.

”I-I don’t want to freak you out, I’m not trying to push anything, I swear I just…” His eyes darted over your face, trying to read your expression. He acted like he’d just detonated a grenade and was waiting to see if you were going to run.

“Bucky.” You whispered, reaching up to cup his face between your hands, your thumbs running over the stubble on his cheeks, watching him shake his head.

”I’ve been wanting to say it for so long,” He admitted, “But I didn’t want to make things weird, and I didn’t want to lose you…I didn’t want to ruin what was happening between us…” You felt your heart clench at his words, the admission hitting you in waves, the questions beginning to flood your mind. You wondered how long he felt this way, or how long he kept these feelings from you. Of course you knew he liked you, he wouldn’t have agreed to the casual relationship if he did, but you wanted to know when he started feeling love for you.

Slowly, you pressed your forehead against his, feeling the heat of his breath against your lips, his figure shuddering at the contact, thinking that this would be the last time he was going to be this close to you.

”Bucky.” You murmured, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, letting it linger, soothing the panic that was rolling off him. When you pulled back, his lips parted, and his eyes opened to search yours. He was about to say something but you interrupted.

”I love you too.” You added, a smile slowly coming up on your face, his eyes leaving yours for a moment.

“You don’t have to say it just because I did,” He murmured, his voice so quiet it almost didn’t reach you. Your heart clenched at his vulnerability, at the way he still thought this might not be real. You ran your thumbs over the stubble again, leaning down to look into his eyes.

”I wouldn’t do that, Bucky...” You replied, feeling his fingers twitching along your back.

”So…You really mean it?” He asked. You let out a soft laugh, nodding as you pressed another kiss to his lips, slower this time, more intentional, hoping that it would drive home the point. You pulled back slightly.

”Yes…” You said, pecking his lips again, “I’ve been wanting to say it too, I just didn’t know if you were ready to hear it.” Bucky let out a shaky exhale, his forehead dropping against yours.

“God, you have no idea how long I’ve been holding it in,” he admitted, voice thick with emotion. His arms curled around you, pulling you in impossibly close, like he was trying to mold you against him. “I thought maybe I was imagining it, you know? That maybe I was just reading too much into things, seeing what I wanted to see.” You smiled at the way he explained himself, the nervousness that still ran behind the words.

”No, I was definitely dropping some hints.” For a long moment, neither of you spoke. There was no need to. The silence wasn’t heavy or uncomfortable, it was charged, filled with the unspoken understanding between you, the realization that this was no longer just casual, that it had never really been.

Bucky shifted, pulling you onto his lap again so that you were straddling him, his hands cradling your face, thumbs brushing over your cheekbones. His blue eyes were impossibly soft as he studied you, like he was trying to memorize every single detail. “I was so scared,” he admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t want to ruin this.”

Your fingers traced along his jaw, tilting his chin slightly. “You didn’t ruin anything,” you reassured him, smiling softly. “You just made it better.”

Bucky let out a shaky breath before he leaned in, capturing your lips in another slow, lingering kiss. This one was different from the others—not rushed, not fueled by lust or desperation, but something deeper. His lips moved against yours gently, savoring the moment.

[riddlesbunny]

Busy Woman

summary: As a dedicated Ravenclaw, you have no time for distractions, not even the charming Theodore Nott… unless.

pairing: Theo Nott x Ravenclaw!Reader

word count: 1.8k

warnings: Explicit smut, mentions of alcohol, fingering, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, p in v sex, lmk if I missed anything pls 18+ MDNI

note: send requests :))

Although you aren’t a fan of stereotypes, there is no denying the sorting hat chose the perfect house for you. You take great pride in your smarts and aim for academic excellence.

Extracurriculars, as far as you’re concerned, are just that—extra. And you have little interest in anything that pulls you away from your studies. Even when your housemates try to get you to join clubs or attend social events, you usually politely decline.

You have high standards for yourself, and there is no shame in that. If you want a successful career at the Ministry of Magic one day, you need to keep a steady head on your shoulders.

However, you aren’t a total prude. One evening, curiosity got the best of you and led you to a party in the Slytherin common room. You were overworked, on the verge of being burnt out, so when one of your girlfriend’s invited you to a party you couldn’t bring yourself to decline.

To make a long story short, you ended up taking one too many shots of firewhisky and landed yourself in Theodore Nott’s bed.

Before that evening you would have considered Theo an acquaintance at best. He was in a few of your classes, you had worked on a few projects together, and even occasionally engaged in small talk. But since the party he’s barely even looked in your direction. Which was fine. Right?

Days later, as you’re busy editing your Potions essay, a shadow falls across your paper. Looking up, you meet the familiar green eyes of the Slytherin boy. He hesitates before speaking, causing your anxiety to spiral.

“Did you need something?” You blurt out.

“I need your help,” he admits, “I’m struggling in Transfiguration, and McGonagall suggested I find a tutor.”

You’re caught off guard because let’s be honest: there’s no way this is just about tutoring. Not with the way he’s looking at you, all lazy smirks and knowing eyes, like he’s already expecting you to say yes. Like he already knows you won’t say no.

And he’s right. You should say no—because the last time you let yourself get caught up with Theo, you ended up tangled in his sheets and completely at his mercy, but you won’t. You can’t.

After a long pause, you nod, “Alright. I guess,” you shrug, “you can come to my dorm tonight.”

His expression softens with relief, “thank you, bella! I appreciate this, truly.”

You sit on the edge of your bed, nervously twisting the hem of your sweater between your fingers.

You had agreed to this. Invited him, even. But now, as you wait for Theo to arrive, doubt creeps in. What if this is a mistake? What if things became more complicated than they already were? You had spent so much time convincing yourself that what happened at the party was nothing—a fleeting moment, a distraction you couldn’t afford. Yet here you were, heart racing, palms slightly clammy.

Your thoughts are interrupted by a swift knock.

You swallow hard, forcing yourself to stand. With one last deep breath, you cross the room and reach for the door handle, fingers trembling slightly.

And then, you open it and there is Theo, looking handsome as ever, leaning against the door frame.

“Ciao, bella signora,” he greets with a smile. Hi, pretty lady.

"Thanks for doing this," he continues, his voice deep and warm. His eyes scan over your body quickly before settling on yours again.

"Hey,” you swallow, “no problem." You try to play it cool, but your breath hitches as he moves past you into the room.

Theo brushes past you eagerly, “so, where do we start?" he asks, turning around, his dimples making an appearance. His large frame seems out of place in your small room.

"Let's sit here," you say, patting the spot next to you sit on the bed.

He sits down beside you, leaving enough space that you could mistake it for being polite. But not too much. His leg rests just inches away from yours, and you can feel the heat radiating from him.

You start by explaining the basics of Transfiguration, your fingers instinctively moving through the air to illustrate your points.

Things are going fine until it is apparent that Theo is bored. He uses his quill to pester you. Lightly brushing it against the tip of your nose, then down the curve of your jaw.

"Would you quit it?!" you snap at him but he only grins wickedly at your reaction.

“Just trying to keep things interesting, fiend for learning," he replies smoothly.

Your cheeks flush red as he drags the feather lightly across your lips. Before you know it, the quill has dropped and his hand takes its place.

Tension fills the rooms and although you want to berate him again, you don’t.

Theo slides his thumb over your bottom lip, tracing it before gently pushing it inside. Instinctively, you suck on it, betraying yourself.

"There’s the good girl I know,” he murmurs.

His thumb strokes your tongue, exploring the soft warmth inside. His other hand joins in at tormenting you, sliding up your thigh slowly until it reaches the hem of your skirt.

Theo's fingers slide higher, pressing gently beneath your skirt. Your breath hitches when he finds the damp fabric of your panties and his eyes gleam darkly, as if questioning how long you've been wet.

He removes his thumb from your mouth and replaces it with his lips, capturing them softly. You lean into the kiss, craving more as his tongue parts your lips while his hands explore your body like a sculptor, feeling every contour and curve. He slips one hand between your legs, cupping your pussy roughly through the damp fabric of your panties.

You whimper as he grips the front of your panties, pulling sharply until they rip away easily. His warm hand presses against your bare mound and he chuckles approvingly at how wet you are for him.

Two thick fingers rub along your slit, spreading your wetness all over.

"Mmm," he moans, grinding his palm against your clit. He hooks those same fingers into you, filling you up as sets a steady pace pumping his digits in and out of you.

You gasp at the sudden invasion, your hips bucking forward as his arm pins you down.

"Look at that tight little hole sucking my fingers in so greedily, who knew you were such a dirty little slut under all that prude charm?" Theo growls, before adding a third finger.

Stretching you wider as he pumps into you with vigor. "I bet you're just dying to have my cock buried deep inside you," he says, his eyes never leaving yours.

You groan in response, nodding. Theo smirks at your eagerness and slowly withdraws his fingers. He pushes you back onto the bed and unbuckles his pants, revealing his massive cock to you.

He kneels over you, your legs spread wide. You look up at him, meeting his gaze as he slowly guides himself to your entrance. He toys with you, rubbing his head against your clit and swollen lips.

“Please, Theo…”

Theo grabs your legs, folding them upwards so that your calves rest against his chest. His grip tightens, holding you in position as he teases your dripping entrance once more.

Theo looks directly into your eyes as he finally enters you, his thick cock stretching you open. A low moan escapes your lips as he sinks deeper, the top of his cock already hitting your sweet spot.

You feel yourself tightening around him, so snug that each thrust sends waves of pleasure coursing through you. Theo lets out a groan as he drives into you relentlessly, the force of his thrusts causing your body to shift up the bed as wetness pools from your core and down your ass cheeks.

Your pathetic cries fill your tiny dorm room as Theo pummels you mercilessly, his heavy balls slapping against your ass with each powerful thrust.

"Fuck, I missed this pussy, bella. Y'know that? Been thinkin' about you every night since I fist got a taste."

Your cheeks burn at his words.

"So. Fucking. Tight,” he grunts through gritted teeth between thrusts.

You bite your lip, stifling another moan as Theo pushes into you even further. Sweat beading down your forehead, threatening to cloud your vision.

"Oh god... I'm gonna-" you cry out loudly, digging your fingernails into his forearms as an intense orgasm rips through you.

Theo doesn't let up, he keeps fucking you hard throughout your climax, your pussy clenching tightly around him. "Bloody Hell," he swears, pounding into you as your muscles ripple with aftershocks.

"Please, Theo I can't take it anymore!" you cry out, but he is relentless, "keep taking it, baby. Let that pretty brain of yours turn off for once.”

He increases his pace as his thumb finds its way to your clit and he works the digit in circles around your sensitive bud, matching the rhythm of his thrusts. His cock pounds into you, filling every inch of your pussy— you’ve never felt so full.

Your tits bounce wildly as Theo's tempo increases, his efforts fueled by primal desire. He drops your legs and grips your hips tightly, changing angles with ease. You’re so overwhelmed that it almost hurts. Your body tingles with anticipation as Theo continues to plunder you. Every nerve ending is on fire, your brain hazy with lust, you are nothing but a babbling mess.

That familiar feeling of euphoria burns within as white hot electricity crashes over you.

“Yes! Yes!” You chant as Theo increases speed again, lifting your ass up slightly for better penetration.

Your soaked pussy clings to him, each stroke drawing wet sounds from your joining.

"You're close," you pant, barely able to form words as his thick length fills you completely, "that’s right mi amor," Theo grunts, slamming into you with newfound urgency as he leans down, gripping your hair and pulling you into a bruising kiss.

"Cum with me, bella," he demands against your lips, "c'mon, one more, you can do it.

Your nails dig into Theo's shoulders as your orgasm rips through you like a thunderstorm, sending shockwaves through your entire body.

Theo lets out a guttural groan, his balls tightening as he releases hot streams of cum inside you. He throbs deeply within you, savoring the sensation of your snug walls milking him dry.

Theo collapses onto you, panting heavily as he tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear. He pulls out slowly, watching as his spent cock pops free from your swollen folds.

"Thank you," he murmurs, "for everything."

This was only the beginning of your very complicated relationship with Theo Nott.

[kisakis-boyfriend]

A Taste of Pleasure

Author's Note: Mydei…Mydeimos, my darling — he deserves to have his holes wrecked and a belly full of cum~ I finished this just in time for his banner, good luck to everyone pulling for our pretty prince 👍

Pairings: Mydei x male reader

Warnings: Male!reader, dom/top!reader, sub/bottom!Mydei, anal, rough sex, (self) cum eating, semi public sex

Once — that was enough to change the course for the rest of the night.

He teased you once, in the middle of the bathhouse, and you took that personally. Mydei's teasing sounded more like a provocation than playful banter, anyways, but when you knew him so intimately, nothing could fly over your head.

The calm surface of the water was interrupted by ripples as you and Mydei stood up, dripping water onto the bathhouse tiles as you walked down the hallway towards your private bath chamber. The halls are bathed in a mellow orange glow, creating a comfortably warm atmosphere for the guests. Flames dance every time you pass them by, flickering against the cream coloured walls.

The door opens smoothly, and you step inside, with Mydei following suit. The complementary bathrobes that the bathhouse provides still drip with water, though, at this point, it's much cooler than the lukewarm bath that's a part of your room. Mydei has stepped farther into the room than you have, and his muscles flex from the stretches he's doing, showcasing his back muscles beautifully.

“Here, let's get you out of those wet clothes before you catch a cold, hm?” you say with a smile, prompting your lover to turn around and eyeball you curiously. He likes to say that you dote on him too much — that he doesn't need someone to baby him, or invest so much time and effort into doing anything for him — but Mydei makes no effort of his own to truly stop it. He may grumble like a cheeky lion cub, but your lover allows you to undress him in that same careful manner that you always do.

And when your hands linger on his arms, tracing the veins and curves of Mydei's muscles, his expression softens just the slightest bit. Relaxing into your warm touch, Mydei hums, almost silently, as his bathrobe drops to the floor below. The, rather loud, wet plap it makes as it hits the tile certainly doesn't fit the mood…but you don't let that throw the moment off track.

“Much, much better~” you comment. Letting your eyes drift wherever they so please on your lover's body. Small water droplets slide down Mydei's solid abs, enchantingly working their way towards his–

“My eyes are up here.” His words draw your attention up to his face, where Mydei has narrowed his golden eyes in mild annoyance. “Watch it.” he warns — though you easily deduce that there isn't an ounce of malice, nor true anger in those two words.

You gingerly place your hands on his cheeks, squishing them ever so slightly. “What? Am I not allowed to admire my prince's handsomeness?” You tilt your head, brushing the pads of your thumbs along Mydei's soft cheeks. “Don't tell me you're getting shy now…?”

Mydei scoffs, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “Whatever. Shouldn't you take your clothes off too? Or do you want to be the one who gets sick?”

“Then…” his breath hitches as you move one of your hands to the nape of his neck, scratching the smaller hairs that grow at the hairline. You lean in a bit, whispering a simple; “will you take them off for me?”

At this, Mydei gulps, searching your features for anything: a sign of trickery, a hint of playfulness, a little bit of bashfulness, even. He finds none of this, and concludes that your request is sincere. So, your lover uncrosses his arms, and hooks a finger underneath the thin sleeve on your shoulder, helping you pull your arm through the hole until it's free. Then, he mirrors the way you undressed him earlier; sliding the wet garment down your torso and hips, and letting it (once again…loudly) drop to the floor.

His gaze drifts down, taking note of how the sunlight reveals the light sheen of water still clinging to your stomach from the wet clothing. Drifting down further, Mydei's gaze lands on your–

“Hey, my eyes are up here.” Mydei quickly snaps his attention towards your face, his lips parted in disbelief. He frowns, huffing as his usual expression returns. “Not so easy to keep your eyes off of someone you really love, is it, De?” you wink at him, smiling so smugly it makes Mydei sick. No matter how much he hardens his demeanor, or creates a barrier between himself and everything and everyone else, you find a way to see through it, and tease him for his true feelings any chance you get.

“We should dry off now, love.” you say, leaning in for a kiss before you search for some dry towels. ......Except that one kiss turns into a couple kisses, then a couple more… and another one for good luck… and another kiss because Mydei's hands are guiding you closer… and just one more kiss, because his lips taste so damn good.

“Ah… mmm… y/n–” your beloved softly moans every time your lips part ways. He's almost breathless, getting a bit dizzy as your mouth sneaks away to leave a few kisses on his jawline and neck, before slinking back up to devour his lips once more. Mydei's attention shifts fully towards you, heightening his senses so that the slightest touch sends a tingle down the back of his neck.

You're not too different right now either — the only thing that your eyes are able to focus on is your darling, Mydei, blushing like a beautiful rose petal, and one well-timed, precise touch away from letting you have your way with him. And, right on cue, you trace Mydei's v-line, dragging your finger down lower, but stopping just at the base of his cock. You repeat this a couple more times, and that's all you needed to do to break through that final barrier of his.

“Enough– just…touch it already!” He barks, gripping your hips a little more desperately than he'd admit. You oblige him, and finally wrap your fingers around your beloved's cock; now standing fully erect and ready to be used. Although, he's in for a surprise, if he expects to find relief so easily.

Using that sweet tone that your darling secretly adores, you ask Mydeimos to turn around for you, and he complies like it's nothing. With his back now resting against your chest, your equally-as-erect dick brushes against Mydei's hole, rubbing in between his cheeks while you subtly hold his pecs. “Is this ok?” you confirm. And Mydei answers with a pitiful strain in his voice — evidence of how much you've made your lover crave this spontaneous fun. It's all too easy to knead his chest whilst sucking on his neck, earning the prettiest noises from your muscular boyfriend.

Your hands soon work their way downward, holding Mydei's hips while you pull back so that you can work your cock inside of him. Mydei groans as you push inside, acutely aware of how his body has a tight grip around your length. Still, even the shallow thrusting, and the head of your cock brushing against his walls gets your darling's heart rate up. He reaches up, behind his arm, grabbing at your bicep as he pleads; “Don't go easy on me, y/n — not after you wound me up so much–”

“nngh! Mm yeah… that's it…” Mydei drawls, tilting his head back while your hips move at a more fulfilling pace. Those firm, yet squishy pecs draw you in again, enticing you to squeeze Mydei's chest and play with his nipples until he's bucking his hips — chasing a touch that isn't there because his cock is the only thing not being stimulated.

So, you take that as a cue to give little Mydei some much needed attention. Stroking his length at a painfully slow pace, all while your own cock feels like it's about to explode. A single string of translucent fluid drips from your beloved's slit, dangling there while you jerk him off until you're creating squishy wet sounds with every stroke. But, you refuse to let him cum.

At this, Mydeimos growls, gritting his teeth as he attempts to hold in his release obediently. A task that's not exactly easy when his lover is pounding into him with great strength, at the moment. “Haah… harder! Harder! ah-aAAHH!!” With a moan so loud it almost hurts your ears, Mydei shivers as a warm stream of cum flows into his ass.

Panting is all that he can muster at the moment, seeing as his dick is now red and throbbing wildly in your grasp. You're still denying his orgasm, yet you won't stop stroking his length–

After what feels like an eternity of standing here while you tease his cock, Mydei's thighs begin to shake, and standing upright becomes harder and harder to do. You can see your beloved leaning forward, gradually buckling under your excruciating, torturous touch, until he's sunk to his knees, taking you down with him. Though, you can work with this just fine too~

“Fffuck! You're…relentless– gnngh!” He rasps, biting his bottom lip when you push right back inside, and begin slamming into him once more. His nails scrape against the tile while his entire body jerks forward with your every move, and Mydei can't even form a full sentence with you fucking into him so hungrily. Sweat begins to gather on Mydei's forehead, causing his bangs to cling to his skin, while the rest of his hair covers the lewd expression painted onto his face — features twisted into a picture perfect image of what pleasure must feel like.

Your expression isn't too different either, as you find yourself lost in the moment, connected to your lover in the most intimate, and literal, sense. His body is almost hypnotic in the ways it responds to your actions: Bouncing back on your cock even though Mydei's thighs wiggle like jelly. Back muscles flexing as his body arches whenever you hit that special button inside of him. Shoulders hunching when you lean over to kiss Mydei's pretty neck or back. Your darling's head flying back when you cum once again, hissing at the feeling of your warmth coating his insides — all as Mydei's cock weeps from the lack of attention and release.

As breathless and pliant as your beloved is at the moment, you're easily able to flip him onto his back, taking note of how his chest rises and falls with every deep breath. You swipe some wet hair away from his mouth, and cup his reddened cheek as you say; “How are you holdin' up, De?”

Mydei groans, arms going limp against the floor and retorting, “Haaah…just warmin' up…haha.” His body folds over with ease, feeling like a featherlight doll that you can maneuver however you so wish. In this new position, Mydei's knees are tucked right next to his head, and his cock hovers over his open mouth. The reddened tip of his length brushes against his reddened lips as you once again roll your hips into him, hitting his sweet spot each time.

With what little strength your beloved has left, he braces his hands against the ground, keeping himself planted in this spot and allowing his head to remain in place. Your grip on his legs tightens, and Mydei can tell that you're about to cum again.

You notice the glimmer in his eyes when he realizes that, and decide to give him what you know he craves the most in this moment. “Stick your tongue out for me?” you ask sweetly. Mydei obliges instantly, resembling a dog in the summer heat as he exhales visibly hot puffs of air. You push down on the back of his legs, and Mydei's wet tip brushes along his tongue, causing him to squeeze his eyes shut momentarily as the salty notes of his precum cover his tongue.

“Fuck! Cum for me, m-my love…” You blurt out. Mydeimos sucks on his own tip mindlessly, taking every deep thrust of your cock until you spill inside of him one last time. His mouth immediately floods with every drop of pent up lust that had been building inside. Eventually, his dick pops out, and Mydei continues cumming on his own face and cum-covered tongue. It's possibly the most obscene thing you've ever gotten your partner to do — and neither one of you wants this special moment to end.

Unfortunately, you don't have unlimited stamina, and it would seem that you reached your limit for today. As has Mydei, judging by his glassy, unfocused eyes. You gently unfurl his body, allowing him to lie there and gather his surroundings. Mydei had swallowed his cum almost immediately, but the rest of it remained on his pretty face, sticking to his cheeks, lips, eyelashes, and even in his bangs. You can't help thinking that this is the prettiest sight you've ever laid your eyes upon. It's definitely something you'd like to see again in the future, if your darling is up for it, of course.

[rysingsun]

Some relatively low effort meals I make when I just really am Too Tired (note: not chronically ill but hopefully these are still helpful to those that are!).

Just going to assume you already know how to make sandwiches. PB&J, peanut butter & banana, or grilled cheese (level it up by buttering the bread with garlic butter and using colby jack cheese) are my go-tos. BLTs are reserved for when I can put in a considerable amount of energy and effort so I’ll leave that recipe out.

Microwave Quesadilla

- 2 Tortillas

- Shredded Cheese

- Shredded Chicken or Ground Beef (optional)

- Garlic Butter dip (optional)

- Sour Cream (optional)

Put shredded cheese between two tortillas. Add meat if desired (canned chicken is a godsend but make sure it’s drained and dried out as much as possible). Cook in microwave. It tastes like sadness but it’s better than not eating. Dipping in garlic butter or sour cream makes it taste slightly better.

Stovetop Quesadilla

For a better tasting quesadilla, melt butter on frying pan and cook on there instead. However— this will take 5-10 minutes to cook instead of less than one, will dirty a pan, spatula, and potentially pizza cutter/cutting board in addition to your plate, and that’s time in front of your stove that you’d likely need to stand for. Medium-low heat. If the bottom is golden brown and the cheese is sticking to the tortillas it’s time to flip it.

Better Canned Green Beans

- Canned green beans

- Garlic powder

- Basil

Cook green beans in microwave. Add garlic and basil. Mix.

Loaded Salad

- Lettuce

- Shredded Cheese

- Ranch (or preferred dressing)

- Bacon Bits

- Cucumber Slices (optional— requires prep)

Put it all in a bowl, grab a fork, and eat.

(Loaded) Baked Potato

- Russet potato

- Butter or margarine

- Salt

- Pepper

- Shredded cheese (optional)

- Sour cream (optional)

- Bacon bits (optional)

- Gravy (optional)

Stab holes all over potato with fork. Five minutes in microwave, flip, cook five more minutes (note: time varies based on potato size). Cut down the middle, mash sides down flat. Add butter/margarine, salt, and pepper. Shredded cheese, sour cream, gravy, and bacon bits are all optional toppings.

Pistachio Salad/Pudding

VERY mixed opinions— people either love it or hate it— but it’s a low effort dessert for events.

- 24 oz cottage cheese

- 1 can pineapple chunks with juice

- 1 package instant pistachio pudding

- ½ or ¼ bag small marshmallows

- 8 oz cool whip

- Cherries (drain & dab with a paper towel)

Mix all (except cherries) together. Decorate top with cherries. Chill for 4 hours.

Chicken (Bacon) Ranch Wrap

- Flour tortilla

- Chicken strips (cook from frozen or just use some leftovers from a restaurant!)

- Ranch

- Shredded cheese

- Lettuce

- Bacon bits (optional)

Drizzle ranch onto tortilla. Add broken up chicken strips, lettuce, cheese, and bacon bits. Wrap like a burrito.

General Tips

Preserved bacon bits are great to have in the pantry. Not as good as fresh ones but it’s one less thing to prep and adds protein to lots of dishes!

Canned chicken and canned tuna are both good options for the same reason as the bacon bits!

Never underestimate the power of throwing food together and mixing it up. Some good combinations I’ve stumbled across with leftovers are: 1) BBQ Beef & Rice: White rice, ground beef, and honey BBQ sauce, 2) Breakfast Couscous: Chicken flavored couscous, scrambled eggs, bacon bits, pepper, parsley, thyme, chives.

If you’re not watching your sugar, whipped cream and sprinkles turn yogurt into an extra special treat! Don’t skimp on toppings that you like, pile on the cheese, or sauces, or whatever (as long as it actually makes it taste good)! (I struggle to eat enough calories so I do what I can to encourage myself to eat even a little more food)

Remember: not only is it easier to eat if the food tastes good, but your body won’t absorb many nutrients if it doesn’t!

Write down the recipes that work for you on a document that you can revisit. It’s good to remind yourself that you have options! Best of luck and I hope you find recipes that feel manageable and taste like life’s worth living!

"quick meal for when you're low on spoons!" *involves chopping vegetables* *uses a stove* *includes condiments* *involves letting something set/rest/simmer* *requires multiple kitchen items that will need to be washed* *estimated prep time: 30–45 minutes*