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#i like to think i will come back to this one day but that's just wishful thinking tbh
gurugirl · 1 day
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Sex Tutor
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Summary: Harry's got a reputation on campus and you're curious to know if he can help you.
A/N: Requested! Thank y'all for being patient with me! Hope you enjoy! This will be 2 parts!!
Word Count: 10k
Warning: smut (oral sex), fluff, praise kink
. . .
“Yeah… that was good. I liked it.”
That wasn’t the reaction you were hoping to get. You thought Gunther would be a lot more enthusiastic after coming in your mouth and you swallowing him down. You gave it your best work. You even choked a couple of times and you did hear him moan once or twice. But that didn’t feel like enough
You wanted to ask him exactly what went wrong. Tips on what he liked and didn’t. What you could do better next time… But instead, he just smiled and kissed your cheek, avoiding your mouth because obviously kissing the lips that had just sucked his cock would be gross.
So you left his dorm feeling a little disappointed in yourself. Annoyed really. You wished you were more bold and could just ask him what he wanted, what he liked most. You complained to your roommate even. She loved giving advice so you were always venting to her.
“Well, you know there’s like this guy on campus who will walk you through that kind of thing… a sex tutor if you will. Let’s just say that he comes highly recommended. I know someone who hung out with him a few times, and she learned so much about her body and how good sex could feel without coming but he always made her come every time, and no man has ever done that to her before she told me.”
“A tutor for blow jobs?” You scrunched your face and giggled.
“Well, blow jobs and everything else really. I don’t know. He gets around and they say he’s very knowledgeable about the body and sex. I think he’s like getting his masters in sexual health or something?”
You shoved at her shoulder and laughed, “Oh my god I don’t think so. That sounds crazy. He’s probably some weird pervert or something.”
Your roommate turned her cellphone screen to face you, showing you an Instagram page with a photo of a very attractive young man you’d seen on campus a time or two.
“That’s him?” Your eyes widened as you looked from the photo to your roommate.
“Yup. He’s not a weirdo either. I hear he’s super respectful and smart. Plus the bonus is that he looks like this.”
You nodded. That certainly was a bonus. Harry Styles. You knew about him from the student council. He did a lot of volunteering on campus and he was a graduate student so you didn’t know him all that well, being only a sophomore yourself, but it was hard not to at least know the name and the face. He was popular. Clearly far more popular than you even realized.
And you definitely weren’t going to reach out for a “session”. That just felt silly. Though, you couldn’t say you weren’t intrigued by the idea, it just wasn’t for you. Except that when Gunther didn’t text or call you back for three full days, the whole time you wondered if your blow job was that bad. So when he did finally text you back to make plans for the following week, you felt like you were being given another chance to prove how good you could be. And maybe a lesson or two could be useful.
Reaching out to him via DMs on Instagram felt so unserious but you still did it. You cringed as you hit send and read over your message three times.
Hi! I heard you give special “tutoring” sessions and wanted to know if you have some time to meet with me to set something up? Let me know if it’s okay.
You couldn’t believe you were doing this, reaching out to a stranger for, basically, a booty call. But apparently he was used to it and had no qualms about responding to you in less than thirty minutes. As if he was running some kind of business.
Hi! Happy to meet up with you either tonight or Friday night. The initial meeting should only take like 20 minutes, somewhere public so you feel comfortable. I’ll ask you a few questions and then we’ll set up a private one-on-one session together if it makes sense for both of us. No pressure ever. Whenever you’re ready.
Private one-on-one session. You rolled your eyes as you read over Harry’s response.
Tonight is good for me if you can fit me in. Whatever time you want.
You didn’t know what to expect. You imagined he was cocky since he was apparently so good and sought after. Perhaps he would take one look at you and turn around. You were sure he had a say in who he “tutored”. Doubted he took on every single person who reached out to him.
Your roommate said he was respectful but you would place money on the fact that he was probably full of himself, being that he was a self-proclaimed Sex Guru. You were preparing yourself for someone with a larger-than-life personality.
You kept your outfit casual, not wanting to look like you were trying too hard. Jeans and a hoodie. Though you did shower and put on nice panties and made sure you smelled good. Just in case. One never knows when they are due to visit with a sex tutor.
Maud’s was one of your favorite spots on campus. They had the best iced matcha latte and that’s just what you ordered yourself when you arrived. You sat down at a small table and faced toward the door so you could keep an eye out.
You were looking down at your cell phone when you heard the chime of the door. Flitting your eyes up and away from the screen of your phone you scanned the entry and spotted him right away.
He was wearing a black pullover hoodie and jeans. His hair all tousled like he’d just finished a “tutoring” session. You raised your hand to wave at him and catch his attention and he grinned as you stood up but he gestured for you to stay seated, “I’ll be right back. Just gonna order a drink.”
You were already feeling hot and embarrassed. God, what were you doing? The man was sex on legs and that deep, raspy voice he just spoke to you with had your insides twisting and turning all mushy.
When he returned he had an iced tea and he sat across from you. The smile on his face was kind. Open. It set you at ease a bit.
He took a sip through his straw and you noted the rings on his fingers and the nail polish on his nails, “So, Y/n. It’s nice to meet you in person. What are you majoring in?”
Okay. Small talk. You could handle that.
You told him your classes and what you were majoring in and then asked him the same and when he explained he was going for his doctorate in psychology with the intent to become a sex therapist you felt your heart thump wildly. He was gorgeous and going for a doctorate. The man was so beyond out of your league that you wondered why he was even sitting at that table with you entertaining this silly request of yours.
“Wow. That’s… I’m impressed.”
He grinned and you saw a dimple carve into his cheek, “Thank you. I’ve worked really hard to get where I am. Still working, though. So let’s talk about what you want. What things are you interested in getting some guidance on?”
Here it was. The moment you’d been dreading. But also what you were most curious about.
“Well, I’m seeing this guy and,” you took a breath. It was embarrassing to say it so casually at a café on campus of all places.
Harry reached toward you and placed his warm palm over the top of yours, “Hey, I know this feels weird. Doing this. I’m not going to pressure you to say it if you find it’s too uncomfortable but just know,” he dipped his head down to meet your gaze with his brows gently raised, “Everything you tell me here will be kept confidential and private. I’m not going to make fun of you or compare you to anyone else. If you change your mind, that’s okay too. I want you to feel like you’re talking to a friend. Okay? It’s up to you how much or how little you say. We move at your pace.”
You let out the breath you were holding and smiled. He was so – nice. He made you feel so at ease.
“Thank you. It’s weird. Yeah… but I think I’m okay. I want to do this. I want to be better at like,” you looked around yourself and lowered your voice as Harry moved his hand from yours and you settled your gaze back on his, “Better at giving blow jobs. And maybe like initiating more?”
He nodded, “Okay. Have you ever given a blow job before?”
You nodded, “Recently. The guy didn’t seem very enthusiastic about it so I didn’t know if I did something wrong.”
He took a sip of his tea and his green irises bored into yours, “I can tell you one thing I know that is true for nearly every single male I know; they love getting head. Even if he wasn’t vocal he probably really enjoyed whatever you did. Does that make you feel better about your skill level?”
You puffed out a laugh and saw the smirk on his face. He was trying to get you to smile, “I don’t know. Probably. I’m sure I’m overthinking it but I just wanted… like I want to be really good. Want to know tricks to get a real response.”
“Did the guy you’re seeing orgasm?”
You nodded again.
Harry’s grin softened, “Then you did as good as you could have. Goal achieved. He orgasmed and you made that happen.”
“But I want to be better. Like… I really enjoyed what I was doing. Made me really… well���” you looked down at your empty mug and sighed, “I felt like I enjoyed it more than he did.”
He nodded and licked his lips and if you didn’t know any better you’d say he was kind of checking you out. You weren’t wearing anything revealing but he seemed to keep dropping his gaze to your lips and neck. But you figured that was because he was still getting used to your face and he was sussing you out a bit to see if he wanted anything to do with you beyond this conversation.
But that was true. He was checking you out. He saw your Instagram pictures before he contacted you (always his first step) and thought you were cute and wouldn’t mind seeing you in person. He certainly wasn't disappointed by you when he saw you either. You were cute and a little nervous and when you started talking about how you enjoyed giving that loser a blow job he couldn’t help but shift his eyes down to your mouth and imagine what your lips would look like on his cock. He wondered if you’d be just as eager to suck him off as you seemed like you were for the other guy.
Now, Harry was a polite and nice man. He was as respectful as they came. But he was still a man with a very high sex drive and he couldn’t help it. He did enjoy having sex and he got a lot of ass because he was good at what he did. And he was under no allusion that it also didn’t have anything to do with how attractive he was. Because of course, it did. He was aware of the way women looked at him and all the whispers about him on campus. And most of the time the sessions were just fun sex more than anything else. However, he happily gave guidance when needed.
And this time he was feeling pretty gung-ho to see what you could do. He’d like to get started right away, which normally he’d wait until after the initial meeting before jumping into it but there was something about the way you were looking at him, your eyes hungry and inviting…
You watched Harry shift in his chair and look around the café before he looked back at you, “What are you doing right now? Like after this?”
“Oh… nothing. Was gonna read a little, prep for a test I have on Monday. But…” you shook your head.
“Would you be interested in going somewhere more private? My studio is at the off-campus university apartments. Twenty-minute walk from here.”
Was he…? You scrunched your brows, confused at the sudden invite to his place.
“It’s up to you. I’m not rushing you or anything I just have a free evening and you seem really enthusiastic and I’d like to kind of get a feel for what we’re working with. If you think you’re ready.”
You nodded, “Okay. I mean… yeah. So no roommates?” You laughed nervously as he stood up and it was the first time you let your attention fall to the space at his crotch, to which you quickly bobbed your eyes back up to his face as you stood.
“Nope. Co-ed apartments. No roommate. Super private.” He didn’t miss the way you scraped your eyes over his torso and down to the spot on his jeans where his zipper was.
So that was that then. You’d be getting a lesson sooner than you imagined. And when you walked the twenty minutes through campus and the street that was just adjacent to the cafeteria you could almost hear your heart pounding. He was taller than you expected. He easily kept the conversation alive with small talk. He seemed so confident and easygoing. You tried to let that charisma and charm soak through your veins so that you weren’t as nervous as you felt, but it was impossible. You were about to go into Harry Style’s apartment alone and probably give him a blow job.
Harry waved at a few people on your way up to his floor. He was clearly popular. You wondered if anyone knew what might be happening. Why you were with him and why you were following behind him like you were a pup being trained and he was carrying a treat.
“Here she is,” he opened his door and gestured for you to walk inside. Neat and tidy with stacks of books and lots of plants. Some plants hanging, most potted, and on the floor or on tables. You noted he had no television and that there was a big partition that separated the small living space from what was probably where he had his bed. The kitchen was organized with open shelving and he’d bought a wire rack and it was stacked full of packaged foods, spices, oil, and other things to cook with at the top and at the bottom with pots and pans and a blender with its cord neatly wrapped around the base.
He excused himself to the bathroom while you looked around. There wasn’t anywhere to go really. There were two doors in the whole place. The bathroom door and another one, which you assumed was a closet. The kitchen area was open to the small living space.
When Harry emerged he sat down on the couch, which looked well-worn. You wondered how many people he’d had over and on that very couch. He sat with his legs spread and drew his arms over the back of the couch and just watched as you stepped in closer toward the small coffee table, “I like all the plants,” you commented.
He nodded and you clasped your hands behind your back in wait for what would happen next. You didn’t want to look again at his crotch. But the way he was sitting made it hard. He took up so much space on that couch and with his legs spread open like they were, it was almost as if he wanted you to.
“Gonna sit with me? I’m not gonna do anything if you don’t want.”
You nodded and sat down, keeping your limbs close to your body and separate from him. You didn’t want to invade his space or get in too close. Not yet anyway. Not until he invited you. Or rather, until he told you what to do next.
“Everything I said at Maud’s still stands. If you change your mind that’s fine. I’m not going to be mad.”
You turned to look at him and swallowed. The guy was out of this world. Simply delicious looking. “Okay.” You spoke in barely above a whisper.
Harry leaned forward, putting his elbows over his knees as he kept his eyes on you, “Is this how you usually initiate?”
You raised your brows and shook your head, “What?”
“You said you wanted to be better at initiating. So far, I’m not getting any signals that you’re interested. Could be your first problem. Try relaxing a little, Y/n. Sit back and unhook your fingers. Loosen your shoulders. Not only will you feel more settled, but you’ll make the person with you feel better too. Which could push you to naturally begin conversation or movements that encourage contact.”
“Oh. Okay,” you sat back into his couch and loosed your hands, relaxing your posture, and looked at him, “Like this?”
Harry grinned and let out a small laugh, “Perfect. Now at least it appears you’re not scared of me.”
“I’m not scared,” you quickly shook your head.
“I didn’t think you were. But your body language was giving closed-off signals. Which could appear to some like fear or discomfort.”
It made sense you guessed.
“I see. So, relax and it makes everyone feel better.”
He grinned, “So tell me what normally happens when you’re with someone and it leads to something sexual. Set the scene for me.”
You cleared your throat and decided to use your last time with Gunther as the example.
“Well, we were in his dorm room listening to music and laughing about something–“
“Back up a little. Did you invite yourself to his room? Did he invite you? What happened before you got to his room?”
“Oh, uh…” you pursed your lips in thought. “Well, we were out with two mutual friends. At a bar. Gunther, his name is Gunther, he was kind of flirting with me and I liked it. We didn’t really know each other all that well before but I always found him interesting. And so… he was flirting with me. Complimenting me. Things like that. Then he asked me to go back to his room with him. So, I sort of figured something would happen,” you shrugged. You didn’t know why it was so weird telling him all those details but it was.
You recounted how Gunther had made all the moves; kissed you first, groped you and then somehow it ended up with you sucking him off while he laid back on his bed and you were between his legs.
“And… he didn’t return the favor? Like you didn’t get anything?”
You shook your head, “I mean, I didn’t ask. He got off and then that was it really. I left not long after.”
Harry frowned, “Okay. And did you hope he’d do something in return? Like, use his hands or his mouth on you? Did you want more?”
Another shrug of your shoulders, “I mean… I didn’t expect it. Thought maybe next time we could do more? I don’t know.”
“You didn’t expect it. But would you have liked it?”
Nodding your head you looked away from his eyes, “I guess.”
“Did it turn you on?”
Another embarrassing thing to admit to someone you hardly knew. You nodded again, “It just all happened really quickly. I kind of thought things would take longer and we’d chat and maybe he’d have me stay longer and then… well anyway. It was like a total of thirty minutes or something that I was in his room.”
Harry sighed and crossed his leg over his thigh toward you, “And you really want to give Gunther the best head you can? The guy who wasn’t worried about your own needs? Seems very selfless of you, Y/n.”
You let out a breath and laughed, “I know. I just want to be good at it. And that was the first time we did anything so I figured I’d give him a pass.”
“That’s very thoughtful of you. Gunther is lucky you’re still willing to give him another shot.”
“I guess I thought if I was better he’d want to do it more and maybe then we could do other things too.”
“I’m going to be honest, Y/n,” Harry stretched his arm across the back of the couch, “You’re very cute and you probably won’t need to worry much about initiating most of the time. Like, for me, all you have to do is look at me with those pretty eyes and I’m ready to do whatever you want me to.”
It had been a surprise to hear that. You weren’t sure what to do with that information but you couldn’t help but smile to yourself as you looked down at your lap.
“But a good start is to keep eye contact. At least enough to indicate interest. Can you look at me?”
Lifting your gaze to his he grinned, “There we go. So pretty.”
You shook your head, “I’m sure you say that to everyone.”
Harry lifted his hand to your cheekbone, “No. I don’t. And I don’t do this with just anyone either. Sometimes I turn down a request. I don’t tell them why but… There’s gotta be attraction on my end as well. And I find you very attractive, Y/n.”
You swallowed down the saliva in your throat and blinked for a break in eye contact before biting your lip.
“Now, even though we’re here for one thing, I do have opinions on matters of the heart and relationships. And frankly, I have to be honest about this Gunther, guy,” he dropped his hand, making his fingers brush down your cheek until he was no longer touching you, “I don’t like that he didn’t offer to get you off too. That’s a big red flag in my book. I feel it’s important to give and to receive unless it’s explicitly stated at the beginning. But you told me you thought you’d get more. And that bothers me.”
“Well, he’s a nice guy. I think he just wasn’t thinking…”
“He wasn’t thinking about your needs. That was selfish of him and something to watch out for. We can give him a pass for the first time, but if you see him again and he still doesn’t think about your needs, I’d hope you’d end that relationship and seek someone who’s willing to be less selfish with you.”
It surprised you that Harry was saying that about Gunther. But perhaps he was right. You did leave his dorm that night quite disappointed.
“I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable. I know you barely know me but that’s just my take. I’d never not offer to return the favor,” he kept his eyes on yours and you swore his lips were suddenly a shade darker. They looked like the perfect lips to kiss.
He grinned when he noted where your eyes were homed in on, “Do you mind coming closer? Feels like you're still too far away.”
You puffed out a nervous laugh as you scooted your bottom in closer toward Harry. His arm was draped over the back of the couch behind you and you felt the warmth of him before you felt his fingers graze the back of your neck.
 “So, I can kiss you? Can we start there?”
You breathed out through your nose and smiled as you nodded and kept your face angled toward his. He watched as you hesitantly put your palm on his knee and he put his hand over yours, “You’re a natural. See?”
Another soft laugh fell from your mouth as Harry’s face drew in closer to yours and your heart stopped as he nudged his nose into yours and you felt his soft lips smush against yours.
It didn’t take long for you to start feeling that familiar heat between your legs as he ran his tongue against yours. It felt so intimate… not like a tutor lesson or anything of the sort. It was you and a handsome man making out on his couch as he pulled you onto his lap. It felt real.
For some reason, you imagined it being a little more dry. Like a real lesson. Like he’d pull his pants down and tell you what to do and show you what he liked and what really made men go wild. You hadn’t imagined kissing being part of the equation for some reason.
“Did he tell you how soft your lips are or how those sweet little noises coming from your mouth drove him crazy?”
He spoke his words between kisses and you were going to pass out. Because no, Gunther gave you no compliments once you got into his dorm room.
You shook your head as you parted from the kiss, your eyes on his.
Harry’s eyes roved your face as he softly dragged his thumb back and forth on your jaw, “I don’t like him one bit. You deserve someone who’s going to tell you how good you are and how good you make them feel.”
He softly pressed his lips against yours again, the kiss heating up into a frenzied pace once again as you stuffed your fingers into his hair and then you felt the bulk of his erection under your thigh when you moved in closer.
Parting from the kiss you looked down and then back up at him and he just smiled. Like it was the most normal and natural thing ever. Which… it kind of was.
“Got me all hard already,” he slid his thumb from the edge of your bottom lip inward and you moaned, “Just like that. You’re already better than you think you are. You’re driving me crazy, Y/n. I want to see what these lips look like wrapped around my cock. Can we do that?”
You nodded and began to move off of him but Harry took your hand in his, making you pause, “I’ll let you get me off if you let me get you off too. Okay?”
Your eyes widened, “Really? I thought this was just for–“
“I have a method and it always includes getting the other person off too. Or at least making them feel good. Unless you don’t want that. That’s okay too, but I would prefer to touch you as well.”
“Okay,” your words were breathy as he helped you off his lap, keeping your hand in his but then he stood up and you watched as he ran his free hand over his crotch, “Is it okay if we do it my bed? A little more space there. Think it’ll feel less rushed.”
Obviously yes. You wouldn’t dream of saying no to this man. Not that you wanted to.
The space behind the partition was just a bed and one side table. His bed was neatly made and there was a plant hanging by the opening of the partition. He gestured for you to follow him onto his mattress and he placed his back at the wall, where he had no headboard.
Kneeing up to him you were feeling shy again and he leaned forward and cupped your face with one hand, “You’re doing so good. If you need to stop at any time just say the word. I’m not here to make you do something you don’t want. Okay?”
You nodded, “Yeah. I know. I trust you.”
“Good. Just wanted to remind you is all. I don’t want you to feel like you have to keep going even if I’m enjoying it, which I have a feeling I’m gonna like whatever you do to me.”
You giggled and nodded. He was fluffing up your ego and you hadn’t even really gotten started yet.
Harry started to push his jeans down, lifted his hips to get them off his legs, and then kept his eyes on you as he held his hand out for you to take, “Come here.”
You put your hand in his and let yourself get pulled between his legs as you looked down at the sizable lump under his boxer briefs, “Can we take your jeans off? Kind of want to have you in my lap a little while before we get down to it, yeah?”
You nodded and unhooked your button before pulling your zipper down. Harry’s hands found your hips as you tugged your jeans down and he helped you out of them, leaving you in just your hoodie and panties. Like Harry. He was just in his boxer briefs and his hoodie too.
You crawled into his lap, your thighs straddling his, and sat down as Harry smoothed his hands up and down your thighs, “There we go. This feels nice, having you close like this,” he ran his palms toward your bottom and then back down your thighs to your knees, “How are you feeling?”
You put your palms on his shoulders, “Good. Feel good. And you?”
“I’m feeling great. I’ve got you here in my lap,” he brought a hand up from your thigh to your face, his fingers sliding behind your ear with his thumb at your cheekbone, “And I like you. I think this’ll be fun. Just want you to feel at ease with me.”
You shifted on his lap, getting in closer, “I do feel at ease with you, Harry. You’re really nice.”
“Good. That’s what I want to hear,” his voice was soft as he gently pulled you towards him and pressed his mouth against yours again. His kiss was soft and sultry. Harry was far more sensual than you imagined he would be. Lots of soft touches and reassuring words. And his mouth against yours was addictive.
You moaned when his thumb ran along the edge of your panties at your thigh and you rocked your hips down, pressing your panties-covered pussy over his erection.
He inhaled softly through his teeth and lowered his mouth to your neck where you were melted into him. His warm mouth sponged wet kisses down your pulse point as you lowered a hand to the top of his cock.
He sighed when you began to rub your palm over him and you began to move back. You were ready to get him in your mouth.
“You can bring me out if you want. Or I can do it. Whichever you’re more comfortable with.”
You bit your lip and continued palming over him as you kept your gaze focused on his, “I’ll do it. Do guys like that more?”
He grinned and the dimples that carved into his cheeks had you swooning, “Yeah. Maybe. Depends on the guy but it can feel like the girl is really excited, like she can’t wait – the enthusiasm is nice. For me? I do like it more. But honestly, I wouldn’t complain if you wanted me to do it myself.”
You nodded in understanding as you focused on the dark green material of his underwear and reached toward the waistband. You looked up at him once more to check in and he just gave you a singular nod to keep going so you did.
The material was warm and stretchy. And you loved the way it felt to run your palm up the length of him, before peeling the fabric away and slowly revealing his cock. His tip was thick and smooth and dark pink. And then his shaft was girthy, quite meaty really, but so stiff. And when you’d pulled his underwear down far enough you took the whole of him in and it was… well it was a bit overwhelming. There was no way on God’s green earth you’d be able to stick that whole thing in your mouth.
“You don’t have to have it all in there. This isn’t a porno. I don’t need you to choke on it or anything like that. Use your hands and your mouth, as long as it’s nice and wet it’s gonna feel really good.”
You nodded. It was a relief that he wasn’t expecting you to deepthroat that thing, “Do you like it when someone can take it all the way?”
Harry breathed a laugh out of his nostrils, “Well… only if the person giving head likes that kind of thing. I would never enjoy it if someone wasn’t into that. But yes. I do rather like it. Not more than any other type of blow job, though.”
You gulped and continued palmed at his length softly. Harry kept his eyes on you to watch how you’d do it. To see what your go-to move was and when you made no move he finally spoke, “Go in however you want. Let’s see how you normally go about giving a blow job.”
“Okay. Yeah…” You took a deep breath and lowered yourself down as he fixed his feet flat on the mattress with knees bent upward, making space for you to fit between his thighs. First, you spat over his tip and used your hand to rub your saliva down his shaft. A quick glance up at him and he looked like he was enjoying it.
After spitting another glob over his slit that clung to your lips a little longer than it did the first time things were feeling much wetter. You stroked along the full length of his cock, from base to tip, tip to base, and back again as you lowered further, getting your lips just over his tip, and looked up at him, swiping your tongue over his crown. Smooth and warm. Adjusting your hips you got into a better position and gripped his base with both hands as you began to take him in your mouth. Your tongue cupped the underside of his cock as you dipped down and pulled up, suckling at his tip before repeating.
Harry’s fingers gently pushed at your chin, “I’d like you to do one thing for me, Y/n…” your eyes shot up to his, “Can you keep your eyes on me, just like you’re doing right now?”
You pulled off and nodded, “Yeah. Sorry.”
Harry tutted at you, “You didn’t do anything wrong. Just really fond of your pretty eyes. Personal preference is all.”
Keeping your gaze on his you kissed his tip softly and slowly before tonguing at his frenulum. It was a good thing you were looking at him in that moment because the expression on his face as you ran your tongue along the underside of his cockhead was lascivious and the sudden heat between you two might not have been noticed if you hadn’t been looking at him.
When you lowered your lips over him again, hollowing your cheeks and cupping the underside of his dick with your tongue, he palmed over your cheek and softly thumbed at your temple, “Y/n… fuck… that’s really good. Keep looking at me like this pretty girl.”
The soft touch from his hand and thumb on your face was full of affection and made your heart thunder in your chest. It made you dizzy the way he was looking at you. It was such a lewd act but somehow filled with tenderness.
The drool that leaked out of your mouth and down his shaft allowed your hands to slip around his base, twisting as you bobbed over the first bit of him with your mouth. It seemed like he was really enjoying what you were doing. Having your eyes on him while you were doing it felt more encouraging than embarrassing.
And Harry was very much enjoying what you were doing. He wasn’t all that picky when it came to getting blow jobs. Why would he be? Some hot girl wanted him to show her how to be better? Well, he rarely did much in the way of making someone any better than they already were.
Harry never intended to be known as a sex tutor or a sex guru. He was just a guy who loved sex. A guy who was patient and who really did care about the person he was with, even if it was just a one-time thing (which most of them were). And his line of studies gave him insight many lacked. The more he slept around (safely) the better he got and the more he understood. He put into practice the things he learned in his classes and when he was a Junior after a string of hookups with a group of very popular seniors he started to get a reputation.
It started with comments and discussions on the size of his cock. Then it eventually escalated to him being very good in bed. And how he could always make a woman come (he didn’t always make them come but he certainly tried and he learned the art of allowing sex to just be something that felt good and intimate and didn’t have to end in that elusive orgasm every time).
The first girl who was bold enough to ask him if he’d help her get to know her body better, had told him how she heard he was the best… and that had caught off guard. But he gave it a go. And he wound up enjoying the whole thing so much that when another girl asked him for help he decided there was no harm in going along with it.
He wasn’t trying to take advantage of anyone, as some jealous of his prowess would make it seem. No, he just really wanted to help, he loved that connection and to have it end with sex (in whatever form) was never a bad thing. Mostly he was just having fun and if he could use some of his knowledge and give someone confidence by the end of a “session” then so be it.
When you sucked around him, slurping noises came from between your lips and the skin on his shaft and he moaned, “Oh that’s good…” He gently placed a hand at the back of your neck and nudged his hips upward the slightest when he felt his cock start to throb and balls tightened.
Harry pulled at you to bring you up so you slid your lips from his tip and looked at him with pretty rounded eyes as you sat on your knees.
“You’re perfect. If I had you sucking me off like this every day I’d have no complaints. That’s the work of someone who’s into it and I can tell you are. Got me so close to coming already,” he took your hand and kissed the tops of your knuckles. Yeah, you were already smitten with him. But maybe that was just because you liked his praise so much.
“Thank you,” you grinned shyly.
Harry took the hand he kissed and brought it down between his legs, sliding your fingers on the underside of his balls, “There’s this spot right here. Kind of smooth. Feel that?”
You nodded.
“It’s called the perineum. This spot,” he pressed the pad of your middle finger over the area of skin, “Feels really good when you rub it gently. Especially while you’re also giving a blow job. Maybe take my balls in your palm a little to massage them and then move to the perineum. Just about any man you suck off is gonna absolutely love it. It’s also a really good trick when you just want the guy to come already, ‘cause maybe he’s taking too long,” he grinned.
He dragged your hand up to cup his scrotum and you kept your eyes on his as you softly squeezed. Harry’s brows narrowed and his lips parted, “Let’s do that yeah? Wanna give it a go?”
Nodding, you lowered yourself again, your lips parting around his crown as you gently massaged his balls and kept your eyes angled up toward his. You kept one hand at the base of his shaft and felt the full, warmth of his sac in your palm before you pulled off of his cock and dropped your lips down to his balls, kissing the skin all around and skimming your tongue through every crevice and wrinkle, wetting him on all sides.
You remembered you were supposed to be looking up at him and when you saw his face it only egged you on. His soft groan and pink puffy lips parted in lust with hooded eyes so you wound your tongue down further and pressed the tip of your wet muscle to the spot he called the perineum.
“Fuck! Yes…”
You liked that reaction. So you did it again and used your hand on his shaft to continue pumping him in long strokes as you pressed over the small strip of skin under his scrotum before you brought your tongue all the way up over his balls and to his base. The pre-come dripping from his tip made things wetter as you slid your palm over him.
You kept one finger on his perineum and then brought your mouth back over his cock and the desperate whimper that fell from his lungs made you feel giddy. You sucked him in and flicked your sight up to him but his eyes were closed. You could feel his legs trembling as your shoulder was pressed into his inner thigh. Gently you brought your hand over his scrotum and massaged as you worked his tip with your lips and tongue.
He placed both of his hands on either side of your head, “Y/n… yes… honey I’m gonna come. That’s so good. You’re so good for me… holy shit… where do you want me to come, huh?”
You were kind of amazed at how he was so melty and whimpery from the blow job you were giving him. You lifted and looked up at him, “Just come in my mouth. Want you to feel good.”
He nodded as he panted and you put your lips back on him, lowering down and sucking as you used your tongue to apply pressure to his crown. Continuing to play with his balls and peek up at him you saw the moment his face scrunched up and his lips dropped open wide. No sound came out at first but you tasted the first pump of his come down your throat and then felt his big cock throbbing against your tongue and it was the hottest blow job you’d ever given. And you weren’t even receiving… the reaction he gave you had you so turned on and so dizzy that you felt the need to take him deeper.
You forced yourself down further, feeling his tip nudging and spurting at the top part of your throat and you swallowed around him before sputtering slightly.
When he finally began to moan it was deep and throaty. His head was tilted back, facing the ceiling as he pumped into your mouth and down your throat. The hands he held at the side of your face were gentle and honestly? You were in heaven. You could do this with him every day if he let you.
And you tried not comparing Gunther to Harry but it was hard. Harry was so masculine and his cock was prettier and much bigger. With Gunther, you could almost take all of him in your mouth without much issue. You didn’t but you probably could have. Harry was a different story. His big cock filled up all the space in your mouth and he smelled so good too. It was a mix of what you assumed was his natural smell with a clean powdery soap.
But it was the moans Harry was making that had you feeling so worked up. He really enjoyed your blow job and that was all you needed to feel good about yourself and your ability.
Harry’s moan quieted into a simper as you continued dragging your tongue along the underside of his cock until he lulled his head forward and looked down at you, “S’good. Fuck that was good.” He prodded at you to bring your mouth off of him and you sat back with a proud smile.
He leaned forward to pull at the back of your neck and smash his lips against yours. You clung onto his shoulders as he positioned you next to him on the bed on your bottom and then he ran his hands down your sides and pulled at your sweater, “Can we get this off?”
You gripped the bottom hem of your hoodie as Harry sat back and peeled his sweater off over his head, making you pause so you could devour his chest and his arms, and his abs with your eyes. The tattoos that were scattered over his body and on his arms were no surprise. You’d heard through the grapevine about his tattoos once your roommate told you about him. And you heard he was fit. But this? He was the perfect amount of muscled and beefy. He was lean but he appeared well-fed. Broad shoulders, pecs you could bite into…
You gulped when you felt Harry’s big hands smoothing up and down your limbs as he absorbed the sight of you before you finally pulled your sweater off and then unhooked your bra, holding the cups up against your breasts for a moment to make sure he was still in it. Because maybe your body would be a complete turn off but his expressive face did all the talking and he moved his hands up your hips as his irises roamed over your skin.
“So pretty, Y/n,” he spoke like he knew you needed the reassurance. Which you did. So you slowly lowered your bra and pulled the straps from your arms and almost immediately Harry ducked down and kissed your right nipple while his hand palmed at your left tit. He moaned against your soft flesh and you felt cool air hit your skin in the path where his tongue laved against you.
A soft gasp fell from your lips when he wrapped his mouth over your nipple and looked up at you from his spot, pink lips suckling at your breast. It was almost as if he needed to make sure he was doing what you liked. As if the man wasn’t some kind of expert.
Harry’s bulky body moved over you and his hands brushed over the skin at your sides and down to your hips where your panties clung tight. You lifted your hips, ready for him to take care of you, ready to have him pull the last bit of fabric from your body and Harry grinned at you.
“I’m gonna pull these down, okay?”
Nodding you laughed in slight nervousness. You weren’t sure when you’d gotten so eager but giving Harry a blow job had made you a bit insatiable and all of the nice things he said about you, how good you were... Your insides were aching and you knew you were probably already wet, the crotch of your panties was warm against your skin.
And as he slowly dragged the material down your legs he kept looking up at you. A little bit of reassurance that he was only going to go as far as you wanted.
Paying close attention to his eyes you watched him drag his gaze over all your crevices and then up to your tits and then your eyes as he licked his lips. He wrapped a hand on the underside of your calf, lifting your leg the smallest bit as he tucked himself in closer, his shoulders pressing into your thighs.
The warm, soft kisses he dotted on your inner thigh as he looked up at you made you feel worshiped. Like he was savoring the moment and was going to take his time with you.
“Y/n, I just want to make you feel good. Tell me if you don’t like something or if you need something more okay? Because you did so good for me and I’m gonna be dreaming about those lips on me. Just want to make you feel as good as good as you made me feel.”
Harry could tell you liked a bit of praise. A compliment here and there was easy enough to throw in because it was all true. You were very good and you were so pretty and now he was going to return the favor as best he could.
When you felt his tongue swipe up through your crease you moaned faintly as you kept your eyes on him. And when he dug in more, attached his lips to your pussy, and began sucking at you the groan that fell from his chest rumbled through your core and you held on to the back of his head as you arched your back off of the pillow under yourself. His lips slicked up and down, tongue pressing at your clit and then he moved, bringing his arm in and you felt his fingers prodding at your entrance as he looked up at you, pulling his mouth away from your pussy, “Tastes so good, Y/n. Could bury my face here all day long. You mind if I finger you a little? Would that feel good?”
He ran his digits through your folds like he already knew your answer and you nodded quickly, “Yeah. Okay. If you want.”
He grinned before you felt him push his middle finger past your opening and then he watched the face you made as he curled his finger up in your magic little spot. The one only your rabbit vibrator seemed to be able to hit.
You gasped and with that, he brought his lips back over your clit and got to work. His dark curls were smooth and thick between your fingers and the way he kept pulling his gaze up to yours as he licked into you was naughty. The whole scene was something from a dream. There was something so soft about how he kept his eyes on you to check-in.
You’d had a couple of guys go down on you before but they had no idea what they were doing and you weren’t sure if it was just supposed to feel like slippery nothing gliding over your labia or not. But now, with Harry doing the work… well you realized what it was actually meant to feel like. And Harry was not giving you slippery nothing.
He seemed to enjoy it as well which made your heart lurch in your chest. Especially with how he was moaning into you like you tasted good. And he had told you as much, which… that had you on edge already.
When Harry slid in a second finger he opened his mouth wide and tongued up from where his fingers were pumping into you to your clit.
You couldn’t help the pathetic moans that were loudly bouncing off the walls of his studio, “Oh god, Harry…”
But the thing that was really seeping into your skin and your veins and making your heart pound was his eyes on yours. You couldn’t get over it. It was so intimate and sexy and the gushy noises coming from your slippery pussy were lewd and dirty. It was the perfect juxtaposition of just nasty enough but also sweet and soft that had you spiraling.
When they tell you that the biggest part of getting turned on is all in the mind, that’s absolutely true. Harry was a master at it. You weren’t sure you’d ever been so turned on with any man before. He really knew which buttons to push and all the right things to say.
“Fuck, that’s good… holy shit, Harry…”
He loved hearing you whine his name and the feel of your hips bucking upward in tiny bursts. You were one of those girls that was going to have an orgasm, he just knew it. The way you kept getting wetter every time you shot your eyes down to his was a big telltale sign. Some didn’t like the eye contact but he loved it and so did you, clearly.
He moaned into your pussy and swallowed you down as he worked his tongue in teasing circles around your clit before wrapping his lips around you again and smushing down over you with just the right amount of pressure.
The arm he had under your thigh he wrapped under your lower back, pulling you in closer if that was possible, as he continued fingering you with his other hand. The man was unquenchable. Like he needed to stuff his face in as close as humanly possible. Like he needed to suck you dry and make it so that you never forgot his name.
Your insides were melting for him. His fingers were magic inside of you and it had your brain all fuzzed out and blurry. But the way he rolled your clit under his tongue was divine, otherworldly… he knew what he was doing with that big mouth of his.
You gasped and looked back down at him again and his eyes were already pinned to yours.
“Oh… gonna co… oh fuck, gonna come…” you felt like you were being lifted into the air, levitating and vibrating off the bed and out of the atmosphere as he kept his fingers and his tongue steady. But when he moaned deeply into your cunt, that low resonate sensation traveling from your clit to your core and through your tummy made you lose control.
You didn’t realize you were yanking his hair as your legs quaked and your body liquified under him. But it didn’t deter him. He watched you unravel, tits bouncing and back arching as you orgasmed into his mouth and he curled his fingers up against your g-spot as you clamped over his digits.
If he didn’t have his mouth occupied he would have praised you more in that moment. Told you how pretty you were and how good you did for him. But he waited until you began to slowly come back to earth before whispering into your ear the sweet things he knew you’d like to hear.
He laid next to you and grasped your face, kissing your lips softly as you sighed, “So fucking good. What a pretty orgasm that was, Y/n…” He spoke between kisses.
“Did that all for me? Yeah?”
You couldn’t answer him. Not in that moment. You’d just melted and dissolved and had only begun to re-solidify and become a real human with lungs and limbs and skin and pores again.
“You are really fun to eat out, Y/n. Tasted so nice and you sound so sexy when you come. You can call me anytime you need a release okay?” He continued kissing your cheek and your lips as he spoke softly.
Harry didn’t rush you out like you thought he might. He rubbed over your tummy and kissed your breasts softly and ran his lips up the side of your neck as you slowly opened your eyes and sighed.
“Feel okay?”
You nodded and smiled, “Really good.”
“Stay as long as you want. Okay? No rush. We can even grab dinner together if you want or I can make you something.” Harry wasn’t sure why he asked you that. While he didn’t usually rush anyone out, he didn’t typically offer food or dinner either. There was just something about you that compelled him to ask. Perhaps he hoped you’d stick around a bit longer.
You sat up, “Oh. That’s really nice of you. But… maybe I should probably head back. Get some schoolwork done.”
You’d have loved to stay for dinner but you also didn’t want to get your feelings mixed up for a guy like Harry. Not that there was anything wrong with him, but you understood what this was. A one-time thing. Something fun where you got to learn a thing or two. If you stuck around too long you’d probably just want more. And that would only end in heartbreak for you. Because Harry was kind of the ideal guy in a lot of ways.
“Of course. Just thought I’d ask.”
There were no hard feelings for this kind of thing. Harry wasn’t offended that you didn’t want to stay. He’d had a good time with you and he was almost certain you had a good time as well. And that was just about all one could ask for.
Harry let you use his bathroom to clean up and get dressed. And as you did so you thought about how Gunther didn’t even offer you anything to eat or to stay after. In fact he didn’t even ask if you wanted to use his bathroom, when that would have been nice after giving him head. Because even though Gunther didn’t really touch you, you were still wet, and walking back to your dorm with wet panties was not a nice feeling. Especially when you didn’t even get anything out of it.
You’d be wary of Gunther. You’d give him another shot because you were a nice girl but you weren’t going to ignore the concerns Harry had. Perhaps Harry was right.
When you stepped out of the bathroom Harry handed you a glass of water, “Drink a little before you head out, and what dorm do you live in?” He looked down at his phone as he asked.
“Oh… uh the Millennium dorms near the arts building.”
He nodded as you took a gulp of the water and he showed you his phone, “Uber will be here for you in three minutes. I’ll walk you down, okay?”
“Wait. You didn’t have to do that! Um… I can walk or get an Uber myself it’s–“
He shook his head and grinned, “I know I didn’t have to but it’s getting late. Don’t want you walking twenty minutes by yourself. Who knows what could be lurking out there,” he laughed.
You pointed at him, “Fine. But I’m gonna pay you back. Next time I see you okay?”
“Not necessary. Now come on,” he playfully swatted at your bottom and directed you toward his door, “Let’s go downstairs and wait for…” he looked at his phone, “Rebecca in a white Trail Blazer.”
PART 2 COMING SOON
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sttoru · 1 day
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⠀ 𝝑𝑒 ⠀⠀ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. you show your husband some affection, thinking you two were alone - only to be interrupted by your son.
tags. dad!toji fushiguro x wife!female reader. fluff, suggestive. mentions of toji developing / having a dad bod. & reader having a mom bod. reader gets called ‘princess, mama (by gumi)’. baby gumi waking up bcs of a nightmare. excuse me - not beta read bcs i was half asleep when writing this rt_t
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“tooooji,” you smile as you enter the kitchen. you’ve put megumi to bed - finally - and have the chance to spend some one-on-one time with your dear husband. both of you deserve the rest after a hard day of work.
toji has been putting the dishes back in their designated spots whilst you were away. the dark-haired man turns his head to the side once he feels a pair of arms wrap around his waist. a small grin tugs at his lips, “missed me, princess?”
you roll your eyes. even if years have passed since your marriage, toji has not stopped using that specific nickname for you. he loves calling you ‘princess’, because that’s what you’ll always be to him. in his eyes, at least.
“mhm,” you decide to indulge him. you bury your face into his broad back, feeling the muscles he’s worked so hard on obtaining. after megumi was born, toji did let himself go for a bit, but that is a good sign.
it means he’s content with his life - this peaceful life that he’s settled down for with no regrets. no more being reckless, no more battling for money; he’s now got a family to come back home to after all.
“is the little brat asleep?” toji asks while putting the last dish away. he’s visibly enjoying your warm hands that have slid under his shirt. your skin is so soft to the touch compared to his.
you chuckle and nod to his question. “gumi’s sleeping like a baby,” you rub your husband’s stomach gently, feeling the little bumps of his fading abs. you’re loving his new body - just as much as toji loves yours.
toji turns around to face you, desperately needing to return the favor. he can’t get enough of being with you. his rough hands grab your waist and bring you closer against his body, until your chests are nearly touching. he lowers his head to your neck, “that means i can show my wife how much i love her, yeah?”
you shiver at how toji’s voice turns from soft and gentle to sexual and husky. big hands find their place on your tummy, massaging the loose skin with its stretch marks. you can hear your husband’s breath hitch. “fuck,” toji swallows his spit, his fingers moving to grasp your hips.
toji loves how your hips got wider after you’ve given birth to your child. every change in your body, whether big or small, is completely welcomed by him. your body has blessed toji with a son he loves and he’ll forever be grateful for that fact. the least he can do is take his time to appreciate you.
“so beautiful,” toji sighs as he leaves soft pecks on your neck and throat. his fingers are working their way down to your thighs and ass—not leaving a single patch of skin untouched. his lips eventually find yours and you melt into his embrace.
it’s getting heated and the tension is palpable. toji’s about to lift you into his arms when you catch a glimpse of a short figure in the doorway. your eyes widen and you immediately detach your lips from your husband’s.
toji quickly catches on and sighs. he cocks his head to the left, the sight of his toddler standing at the doorway coming into view. “damn kid,” he whispers, nearly pouting because of the interruption. you playfully slap his bicep—a warning to fix his potty mouth in front of megumi.
“h-hey, gumi,” you say with an awkward giggle, walking towards the child. you fix your shirt in the meantime, straightening the material. you crouch down to megumi’s level and pat his head tenderly, “what happened? why are you out of bed?”
megumi stares up at you with teary eyes. he’s clenching onto his dog plushie, hugging the stuffed animal to his little body. you can easily guess that he’s scared—probably because of a nightmare. he’s been getting those more frequently.
though, instead of explaining himself, megumi searches for answers to something else. he points at his dad who’s leaning against the counter with his arms crossed. the toddler then looks back at you like he’s made some big discovery;
“mama papa kissing!”
you nearly choke on your spit. megumi’s a clever little boy and it shows through his advanced vocabulary. you’re surprised that he’s learnt what that meant already. you try to deny what your child said, “no, uhm, mama and papa were just hugging!”
toji snorts at your half assed excuse. he lazily walks over to you two, hands in his pockets. he bends forwards and looks megumi in the eyes with a huge smirk on his face. “yeah, we were. ‘n you totally ruined it,” he utters without any shame and menacingly sticks his tongue out at the little boy.
you hiss and lightly shove toji—he cannot take anything seriously. you’re trying your best to distract megumi’s attention from what he’s seen his parents do, to what his reason is for waking up.
“did you have a nightmare again?” you coo and pick your son up. he instantly snuggles up to you and presses his face against your chest in search of comfort. you smile and can conclude that your assumptions are right.
you pet megumi’s head whilst softly humming one of his favorite lullabies. toji watches your interaction with his son and his mood softens once more. he silently hugs you from behind—also wrapping an arm around megumi—turning it into a little family group hug.
“y’re all right, buddy,” toji mutters to megumi and the little boy sniffles in response, “mama ‘n papa ‘re right here.”
after a couple minutes, you carry megumi back to his room before putting him down in his bed. your husband stands next to you as you make sure your kid is tucked in properly.
megumi stares up at you with a sniff and you nearly melt at the adorable sight. you brush his bangs out of his eyes and kiss his forehead, wishing him a good night. the toddler nods and hugs his plushie to his chest again, still a bit shaken up from the nightmare. however, he’s doing a lot better after he got comforted by both his parents.
“sweet dreams, gumi,” you whisper and rub megumi’s cheeks with a fond smile on your lips. toji simply stares at you conversing with megumi—his face showing little to no emotion. though, from within, toji is absolutely in awe at your motherly personality. you’re the perfect mother.
megumi gets drowsy and tosses onto his side so he could be more comfortable. he struggles to open his eyes, but manages to look at toji. the little boy pouts and points another finger at his dad, this time drowsily warning him, “papa no kiss mama, ‘kay?”
that comment catches you off guard. you’re embarrassed by the fact that megumi still remembers what he’s seen in the kitchen. you try to clear your throat and explain yourself, but toji’s one step ahead of you. he silently mimics megumi’s words and rolls his eyes—
“yeah yeah, whatever. i won’t,” toji promises his son. the toddler clearly inherited your husband’s protectiveness. you chuckle at the playfulness between the two, enjoying the jokey banter the father-son duo have each time.
megumi huffs in victory and nods. he can sleep in peace now, knowing his dad won’t try anything funny with you. he closes his weary eyes and is asleep within just a few seconds.
you stretch your arms and sigh in content. you can’t help but chuckle once you notice how megumi’s fallen asleep with a tiny smile on his lips. you give the child one last forehead kiss before leaving the room in silence.
toji follows right behind you. now that his son is sound asleep, he doesn’t have to keep his promise. technically— he wasn’t planning to anyway.
“c’mere,” your husband mumbles and grabs your hand. he pulls you into a tight hug, hands instantly roaming your body which he admires so much. he plants his lips onto yours not a second later.
you smile into the kiss, finding it funny how toji couldn’t keep his (fake) promise for even one second. he would die if he actually couldn’t kiss you, and that isn’t even an exaggeration.
toji pulls back after a moment and smirks at you—those bedroom eyes of his very telling.
“so, where were we?”
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landosjpg · 2 days
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so high school | ln
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the one where you feel like a teenager in love.
lando norris x fem!reader
word count: ~1.0k
warnings: fluff, smut (MDNI, +18), public masturbation, fingering, orgasm denial
note: i’ve been listening to this song on repeat for almost a week now, it’s so catchy and the GTA lyrics made me laugh so i had to write something inspired by it. it’s short but i hope you enjoy :) not proofread
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being in love had never been as easy as it was with lando.
you had been in love before, sure, but your heart beat in a different rhythm whenever he was around.
you both had felt the spark between you the very first time you met. you could swear the sound of his laugh would always be your favorite song and something as simple as the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled made the butterflies in your stomach flutter all around every damn time.
“come on, tell me again!” your voice was high-pitched, it always was when you were with your boyfriend.
you heard lando let out a chuckle at your insistence, his body spread on the couch as you rested your head on his lap. his hand found yours, fingers entwining under the blanket that covered your body and you gave him a little squeeze, encouraging to tell you once more what you were asking.
“alright, alright,” he facetiously rolled his eyes, earning a giggle from your lips. “i thought you were the most beautiful girl i’ve ever seen.”
you had heard his first impression on you about a thousand times before, but it always brought a smile to your face, being reminded of how enamored he was with you since the very first night.
“fuck, i could barely sleep that night because you wouldn’t leave my mind,” and you had felt the exact same thing.
you two had just clicked instantly, your friends surprised at the chemistry of the both of you.
despite of how crowded the club was that evening you met, it had felt like no one was around you. endless conversation and laughs that seemed to never cease lured you away from the presence of everyone else, and when his lips finally met yours hours later you felt your heart exploding. your bodies moulded together as if you were made to each other, smiles and soft giggles breaking the kiss every few seconds.
and wrapped in his arms you felt like you were sixteen again; and admittedly, no one had ever loved you quite like him before.
୨୧
for the almost eight months that you had been together, you and lando had always loved to invite your mutual friends over during the weekend. at the end of the day, they were the reason you two had met in the first place, and there weren’t enough words in the english language to just show how grateful you were.
every few saturdays all of you would reunite in your —his —living room, a few bottles of alcohol and snacks set on the tea table as you played some stupid drinking game. after that, you would just play the first movie that one of you could think of, lights off as everyone settled either on the couch or, most likely, on the floor, a little too tipsy to even bother getting comfortable.
that night it was american pie playing on the big screen as you cuddled into your boyfriend’s embrace under the soft blanket; it was chilly, the cool summer freeze making you need to cover the bare skin of your legs.
you softly sighed as your leaned your back to his chest as his arms circled around you; and then one of his hands was creeping under the blanket, fingers gently brushing the skin of your thighs.
you smiled at the comfort of his warmth, eyes fixed on the screen mindlessly.
but lando had had a little too much to drink that night, so his fingers slowly moved up, up, up, until they found the seam of your shorts. and the innocence of his previous touch was immediately thrown away the second you looked up to his face, eyes furrowed in confusion, just to meet his smirk.
“what are you doing?” you whisper-shouted, your thighs closing together as he tried to get closer to where he knew you wanted him.
and he shushed. that sly grin of his not leaving his lips.
you bit your lower lip and complied, legs slowly giving him access to your core as your eyes went back to the movie. with slow, teasing movements, he managed to push your shorts and your panties to the side, fingers finding the nub of your clit with ease. this was the most patient you had ever seen him, the tip of his digits slowly rubbing circles on you as he pretended to watch that stupid movie, not even looking at you.
your breath got heavier and unsteady as he touched you at a tauntingly pace, inaudible to everyone else thanks to the loud volume of the tv.
but when he slid his fingers down your folds, coating them in your slick before slowly pushing two of them into your hole, you couldn’t help a gasp from escaping your lips.
you felt your face heating up when the sound earned a look from some of your friends, and you tried your best to cover it with a chuckle. that scene better had been funny, you thought.
lando, however, seemed to find your situation hilarious. you looked up at his smile as he kept fucking his fingers into you slowly, and you could tell he was trying his best not to laugh.
as the seconds passed, stifling your sighs was getting harder and harder, your walls already clenching around your boyfriend’s digits. your fingers wrapped around his wrist, warning him that you were close, and that’s when he stopped.
the withdrawal of his fingers almost made you whine, and you shot a glance at him, this time, a disappointed one. he seemed to like how you responded, because his smile widened and he lowered his head to press a gentle kiss to your temple.
“later, baby. i want to hear those pretty sounds you make when you come,” he whispered into your ear before leaning back on the couch again, shamelessly cleaning his fingers on your thigh and leaving you craving his touch even more.
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badjokesbyjeff · 9 hours
Text
There were three race horses; ernie, bill, and ted. 
the three of them were good friends; they enjoyed racing each other and generally won and lost to each other equally. every evening, after the races, they went to a local bar to relax and drink some beer. they would often discuss racing techniques, their families, etc.
one season, bill wasn't doing so well. he rarely beat the other two, and was worried that he'd be sent to the glue factory if his luck didn't change. one night, at the bar, he talked with ernie and ted about it.
"you know, guys, i just can't figure it out," he said. "everything's fine at home; the kids are doing great, my wife is being nice, the bills are paid, my mother-in-law rarely visits - nothing could be better. maybe i'm just getting old. if things don't pick up soon, they'll send me to the glue factory."
the bartender, a big llama from peru, overheard the conversation. he looked around, to make sure nobody else was listening, then said, "hey, pal, i got something for you that'll make you feel like a young colt again." he reached under the bar and pulled out an unlabeled bottle of beer. "here, drink this; i guarantee you'll start winning again. come by each night for a week and I'll give you one. if it doesn't work, i'll give you double your money back!"
bill looked at ernie and ted, who only shrugged, then drank the contents of the bottle. "oh, just one thing," the llama said, "it'll make your ass itch, but that's okay; it's just a side effect. don't worry about it." the three horses stayed a few hours, played a few games of pool and darts, and went home.
over the course of the next three days, they went back to the bar each night, and bill continued the regimen of mystery beer. his racing times did improve! he was slowly moving back up in the rankings, and was soon back into the top three with ernie and ted. bill was ecstatic, and thanked the llama profusely.
"hey, my pleasure," said the llama.
a few weeks passed by, and ernie started slowing down. after losing three races in a row, he sobbed to himself, "i just don't get it. my life couldn't be better. i can't believe I'm getting old! they'll send me to the glue factory if i don't get back in the groove!"
that evening, at the bar, he told the llama bartender about his troubles, and asked if he too could try the mystery beer. "okay, but remember, it'll make your ass itch - but don't pay it no mind. it's just a harmless side effect."
"no problem. it'll be worth it to get back in the groove," ernie said.
a few days went by. ernie's ass did indeed itch, but after a few more days, his races improved, and he was back in the top three with bill and ted.
at the bar one evening, ernie bought a round of beers for all the horses, and thanked the llama profusely.
"i just can't believe how great that mystery beer worked!" ernie said. "you're sitting on a gold mine, there!" the llama said it was his pleasure, don't worry about it, etc.
a few more weeks went by, and now ted started slowing down, losing races. he, too realized that he'd be shipped off to the glue factory unless his races improved.
"say," he said to the llama one night after a particularly humiliating loss, "i think i need to try that mystery beer too. they'll ship me off to the glue factory for sure if I don't start winning again."
"no problem," the llama said, pulling out an unlabeled bottle. "here. come back every night, and i guarantee you'll be back in top form again, or i'll give you double your money back."
over the course of the next few weeks, ted's races continued to improve until he was back in the top three with bill and ernie. he pranced into the bar, full of vim and vigor, and thanked the llama profusely. "you know, my ass itches a lot; it's almost unbearable. but i can't thank you enough. they would have turned me into glue by now if it weren't for you. anything you want, let me know and i'll see what i can do."
"no problem," said the llama, "i make this beer at home using an ancient inca recipe. it's just my way of thanking my regular customers for their patronage over the years."
"i'm not kidding," ted said, "this is the greatest thing that's ever happened to me. anything, you name it, anything you want, let me know, and it's yours."
"well, now that you mention it..." the llama began -
right then, a greyhound walked up to the bar. he was obviously depressed.
"barkeep, give me something strong. i'm on a losing streak you wouldn't believe," the greyhound said.
ted looked at the greyhound, then at bill and ernie, and said, "hey, look! a talking dog!"
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a-b-riddle · 22 hours
Text
Part Five
Can't stop thinking about the attempt of reconciliation and reader ain't having it. Our girl is going to be wilddddd y'all. Also goodnight. See y'all tomorrow (maybe)
You call Meredith when you get home.
You. Are. Fuming. She's not sure she can ever remember a time you using so many swear words at one time.
How fucking dare them? Immature? You're the immature one? You were the one trying your best to salvage four failing relationship meanwhile none of those assholes could be bothered to try and keep one. They had one person to manage: you.
"I wanna go out this weekend." "Wear something tight and borderline risk indecent exposure."
"You know what I always say," Meredith begins. "The best way to get over someone-"
"is to get under someone else." You finish. You weren't exactly keen on the idea of bringing someone to your bed just yet, but a little attention would do you some good. "I don't want to fuck someone just yet." You admitted. "I'm more on the getting drunk and making out."
"I didn't know we resorted back secondary school heavy petting?" She teased.
"University, Dear." You corrected. "I didn't peak until after I graduated."
"No." She argued. "You didn't put your books down long enough to realize that boys actually wanted to fuck you." You were glad she couldn't see you roll your eyes. "Saturday work for you? I have a late night Friday and won't be up for it."
"That works."
"Sorry." She apologized. "I plan on getting you absolutely smashed so I need to be ready to play the nanny. I know how you love to get drunk and run off."
It was true. You had always found it hilarious when you were drunk to just run. Quite literally run away. It got to a point during university where Meredith would handcuff you to her so you didn't stray.
"I won't run." Your sober mind promised.
"Uh huh." Meredith's tone told you that she knew that was a load of shit. "I'll text Tabs. Let her know the plan."
The next day at the shop was pretty uneventful. No more unexpected visitors. You still had them all blocked. Not caring if now they decided to offer up some bullshit apology.
Months. This had been a steady decline for six months. A text or a simply sorry won't fix this. You weren't sure anything could.
But it didn't matter. You were done and they obviously were too.
You had picked up enough take out to feed a family, but you didn't plan on making your lunch before work or cooking when you got home. The rest of the week you planned on just going through the motions until you could go out Saturday and hopefully get everything out.
You weren't paying attention as you walked down the hallway to your flat. Fishing in your purse for keys. You were at almost at your door when you saw him.
Sitting next to your door was a familiar face. A face you felt you haven't seen in forever.
“What are you doing here, Kyle?" Your voice was flat as you continued to blindly try and find your keys with one hand. Fuck. You really need to clean out your purse...
“My key wouldn’t work.” He explained. "So I’m out here.”
"I'm aware why you're not in my apartment since I changed the locks," you said, trying to keep your irritation at bay. "What I am asking is why did you come here?"
"You won't return any of our messages."
"You're all blocked, so technically I didn't really get any messages." "Besides, you don't get to complain to me about not responding to texts, Kyle Garrick." Your fingers finally wraps around them. God bless. "If you're here for your things, it'll have to wait. I have to sort through everyone's shit and I don't know whose is whose."
"We need to talk." He explains as you put the key into the lock, opening the door.
"Nah," you say scrunching your nose in that way he used to adore. "I'm good. But you can swing by tomorrow and pick up your things if you'd like." You say before trying to shut the door on him. You were stupid in thinking you could be faster than him.
Dammit.
"I know things haven't been good and I've definitely could have been better,'' he admits. "But can you at least try and let us apologize? Let us try and work it out."
"No." You answered, trying to close the door. Not caring if you had to resort to kicking his shins to get him out.
"Why not?" He countered.
“Maybe because I've already tried, Kyle?” You gave up on trying to shut him out. You were strong, but he didn't have any issues in besting you. “Because I actually tried with you. With all of you. You didn’t need to come here giving me excuses about your life being hectic because I’ve made the excuses for you.” You didn't miss how he practically flinched. He had always blamed his busy life. Family. Work. You stopped caring about whatever excuse he gave you and realized it was just that. An excuse. “I’ve been telling myself for months that everything you guys didn’t do for me wasn’t because you didn’t care about me. It was because of the stress of your deployments is the reason none of you tell me when you get back from until it’s time to fuck. I tell myself it’s because of the fucked up situation of me being with all of you that makes it awkward to meet your families. Families you all have that I now know I’m not worthy of meeting.” He wanted to correct you. You were. You were worthy. He was an idiot. “It’s not that I need your excuses to make me feel like what you did was justified. No matter what it was, it was apparently to you because you did it.”
He took a step back, processing everything you had said. He had been selfish. You were the reliable constant in his life. Someone he believed he never disappointed. Someone he couldn't disappoint no matter how many times he fucked up.
You took the opportunity to slam the door. Quickly turning the lock before he had a chance to open it back up.
God...
That felt good.
You had spent that evening collecting their thing in case Kyle did show back up tomorrow. You wouldn't make their lives easier by sorting all their shit and organizing it. Everything. One box. Let them figure it out. You almost had a mind to add a shirt that you knew didn't belong to any of them just to have them argue over it. Or least make them think there was someone else...
You were almost tempted if not for the premise that you wanted them to realize this was their fault. Their fuck up. But now that you were officially all broken up, you were free game.
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navybrat817 · 1 day
Text
In a Red Dress
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Summary: Bucky has to debrief after a mission, so you decide to stop in for a visit. In a red dress.
Word Count: Over 3k
Warnings: Established relationship, explicit sexual content, unprotected vaginal sex, possessive behavior, dirty talk, flirting, teasing, slight feels (it's me, okay?), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).
A/N: Happy FriYAY! I started this in January for @tumblin-theworldaway and finally finished it today. Love you, Aqua! I hope you can relax soon. Could be considered a follow up to With a Bang. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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Your heels clicked along the floor as you left the elevator, reminding yourself for the umpteenth time that it wasn't Bucky’s fault that his team extended their mission for another day. Unforeseen circumstances were to blame, completely out of his control. You also couldn't hold it against him that he had to debrief after he messaged you that he arrived back home safely and unharmed. It was part of the job. Still, you missed him and wanted a bit of attention.
Which was why you showed up at S.H.I.E.L.D. in a silky red dress and Bucky’s dog tags under your coat. No bra, no panties. Which he realized when you walked into the conference room, unannounced, and removed your coat.
It was fun to put the fire in his steel eyes.
“Welcome home, Bucky,” you smiled as the room went silent. “Don’t mind me. Keep doing what you’re doing.”
Your burly boyfriend was out of his seat and didn't tear his gaze away from you, the tension thick as you tossed the coat away. Today was a good day for your self confidence. You wore it like a second skin, feeling as beautiful on the outside as you did inside. You knew you looked good enough to eat and you wanted him to devour you.
And as much as you loved him in his black shirt and tactical pants, it hid the wall of muscle you wanted to trace with your hands and tongue.
“Hey, baby. Fancy seeing you here,” he said, his eyes dropping to your chest. Your nipples hardened against the fabric and you wished he’d latch his mouth to them. “And speaking of home, I thought I was going to meet you there.”
Your shoulder lifted in a shrug. “I got impatient since you were late. Plus I wanted to show you my dress,” you said, doing a happy twirl. It was reminiscent of New Years. The soft fabric hugged your body tight like your black dress did, but this one left little to the imagination. “What do you think?”
Steve, ever the good friend, averted his gaze, but a scowl crossed Bucky’s handsome face when you both realized that other agents looked your way. You hadn't expected to be the center of attention for anyone else, but it didn't matter to you if others looked. Why would you want them when Bucky had you under his spell?
At least they were smart enough to look away when Bucky’s metal hand clenched.
“Well? Do you like it? I thought the dog tags were a nice touch,” you added, running a finger along them when he remained silent. “They really do go well with everything.”
“Come here,” he said, beckoning you with a metal finger. You knew he meant business when he didn't use his dominant hand. “Now.”
You maintained an aura of innocence as you walked toward him, watching him his lips as your hips swayed.
“I can see your nipples through your dress,” he said low enough for just the two of you, but poor Steve with his enhanced hearing likely picked up on it. “And I’m pretty sure I didn’t give you permission to wear a dress like that in front of other guys.”
Any other guy who said that to you would've been smacked, but hearing it from him only made your eyes fill with amusement as you tilted your head. “I didn’t realize I needed your permission to wear this, Sergeant.”
“Baby,” he whispered. You knew what calling him by his rank did to him.
“I should be able to wear what I want and when I want to. We both know that,” you continued, sliding your finger down his chest instead of poking it like he expected. “But you have my permission to break someone's fingers if they try to touch what belongs to you. Because I do belong to you.”
Your declaration fueled the fire within. There was no hesitation on your part. No doubt. And after being apart for a short time, you wanted him to hear you say you were his girl.
“Yeah, you do. You’re mine,” he said with a raspy touch of confidence that would’ve soaked your panties had you been wearing any. “And I’m all yours, but I still need to debrief.”
You huffed, but the conviction in his tone was admirable. “Fine. I’ll just wait here,” you said when he frowned. Both of you knew the classified information wasn’t meant for your ears, yet no one spoke up for you to leave. Were they afraid of pissing your boyfriend off? “You know, I really do love that grumpy look of yours. It gets me so wet.”
Bucky’s cheek twitched when one of the men coughed. “You're being a fucking tease.”
“Is it teasing if I let you have me?” You asked, tapping your chin. “Teasing you would be letting you go to bed with blue balls.”
Wordlessly, he lifted a hand and clutched the dog tags. He yanked on them hard enough to move you closer, his eyes not leaving yours when you gasped and shivered from the heat-filled look. You considered it a win that you didn’t collapse. Because he was going to destroy you and you’d love every second of it.
“Be very careful what comes out of your mouth next, baby,” he warned.
You smiled, more than ready to give him one more push. “I’m more interested in what’s supposed to go inside my mouth.”
His nostrils flared when you opened your mouth and showed him your tongue and throat. He put a hand on the back of your neck and tilted your head back, lightly nipping at your skin below your jaw. “I should put you on your knees and fuck your throat in front of everyone. Or put you over my knee and spank you ‘til you squirm. Show ‘em that you really are mine.”
You giggled, a soft and tempting sound. “Why fuck my throat when my pussy is nice and wet for you?”
“Gentlemen. I think the Bravo Conference Room is available. Let’s finish this up there,” Steve announced, his chair scraping against the floor and pulling you out of your spell. “Told you that you should’ve just gone home, jerk.”
“Fuck off, punk,” Bucky said, keeping a firm hand on you so you couldn’t look at any of the men filing out. The smirk he gave you was nothing short of predatory once the door clicked shut, leaving the two of you alone. “Since you need my cock so badly that you can’t wait until I get home, bend over that table and let me give it to you.”
Your giggle quickly died in your throat when you realized he was serious. “You’ve never fucked me in one of the debriefing rooms. Someone could walk in,” you reminded him.
Yeah, you showed up wearing what you did. Yeah, you teased him. But it was all in good fun. He wouldn’t actually fuck you on the table.
Right?
Your cheeks grew hot at the next words out of his mouth. “You think I give a shit about if someone walks in?”
He let go of your neck and grabbed your wrist, carefully dragging you to the table. You loved every part of him, but something about his unashamed want of you made your heart soar. Maybe it was because of how much he healed and allowed himself to have a piece of happiness. That some part of him from his past, the man he used to be, surfaced and blended in with who he was now.
Heaven sent and survived the depths of Hell.
“Now, I should spank your ass raw for this little stunt you pulled. Letting them see you in this dress,” he said without any real threat behind his words. “But I won’t do that until we’re home.”
“Yes, Sergeant Barnes,” you smiled, expecting him to bend you over. But he brought a hand to your cheek instead. “Bucky?”
His gaze moved to your lips as he murmured, “Not fucking you until I kiss you.”
His mouth met yours not in a frenzy, but with a smile. The kind that told you how happy he was to be back with you. It wasn’t long before he shifted, the hand on your cheek slipping to your chin so he could deepen it. The soft slip of his tongue ignited your entire body, feeling his heart beat faster as you brought a hand to his chest. A reminder that he was alive, home, and loved you.
You loved him, too.
Your eyes stayed shut for a few seconds after he pulled away. “Missed you, Bucky,” you whispered.
“Missed you, too,” he said, his voice rougher than before. “Now bend over.”
The air rushed from your lungs at the switch from want to tenderness to need, your chest pressed against the table as he pushed your dress. Part of you wondered if he would’ve made good on his threat and fuck you in front of the other agents. He liked to toe the line of wanting to show others you were his and not wanting them to see intimate parts of you.
Which made you wonder what he’d do if someone walked in. He said he didn’t give a shit, but would he stop and try to cover your body with his own? Or would he keep fucking you?
You wouldn't mind either way.
“Spread ‘em,” he ordered, which you immediately obeyed. The low whistle made you shut your eyes before he dragged a finger along your exposed slit. “Didn’t even bother covering your pretty pussy with underwear. Probably best since you would’ve ruined them with how wet you are.”
“You’ve ruined all of my panties, Bucky,” you said, the distinct sound of his belt buckle and pants zipper making you moan. “And I’m ready for you to fuck me.”
“Yeah? Your pussy ready to stretch around my cock?” He asked, making you shriek when he unexpectedly brought his flesh hand down hard on your ass. He only used the metal when you were in real trouble. “You better not have fucked yourself with a toy before you got here.”
“I didn’t! I haven’t even touched myself,” you promised before he stretched over your back. “I just need you in me.”
“That’s what I like to hear. And though you interrupted my debriefing and I may need to stab a teammate or two, you’re still my good girl. And good girls deserve rewards,” he growled in your ear, nipping it for good measure as you moaned. The head of his cock teased your entrance, your core clenching in anticipation. “I’ll fuck you and you’ll come all over me, just like you want and just like I need. And you’ll take it ‘til I’m done with you.”
You reveled in being his good girl, even when you were bad. How no one else could take his cock the way you could. How he made you soak your sheets day and night with your essence because being fucked by Bucky Barnes made you gush like a geyser. It was obscene.
“I’m your good girl and I’ll take everything you give me,” you said sweetly, knowing he’d fuck you whether you said it or not. “So let my pussy welcome your cock home, please?”
The soft kiss to your neck was almost like an apology before he pushed into you, both of you moaning. He’d check later to make sure you weren’t sore since he didn’t stretch you at all, but the slight ache when he bottomed out always bordered more on pleasure than pain. The overwhelming sensations of him inside you made your eyes roll back and he hadn’t even started thrusting.
“So fucking warm. And wet,” he grunted in your ear when he finally moved, his pants rubbing against your bare thighs. “Jesus fuck, you’re soaking me.”
Bucky robbed you of your breath when he leaned up and gripped your hips, hammering into you. You tried to grip the table, but all you could do was let him pull you back and forth. He was relentless like this, powerful, dominant. Making you take it, just like he said you would. Funny how minutes ago you were the one confidently teasing him and now you were a whining, needy mess. All because his cock shut your brain off.
You didn’t need to think like this anyway. You could be his doll, just for him to play with and love. In your pretty red dress or nothing at all.
“Harder, Sergeant,” you begged, your moans spurring him on.
“Not hard enough for you? Needy little thing,” he groaned, the sound of him burying himself inside you over and over echoing in your ears. “Missed this cunt. Missed you.”
Your pussy gripped him tight, the heady bliss making your vision blur. “Missed you. M… Missed your cock,” you slurred.
He chuckled, not slowing his pace as he leaned back down to tickle your cheek with his scruff. “So fucking cute when you get drunk on my cock.”
You wondered some days where he learned to talk dirty before you remembered that you had a large hand in that. He loved telling you how greedy your pussy made him. How he loved watching his spend slide out of you so he could fuck it back in. How he’s shocked some days that he can fit inside you, so he must’ve turned you into a perfect cocksleeve.
His cock made your mind down, but your pussy made him run his mouth.
“Gonna make you sit on it when we get home. Fuck, gonna make you ruin the sheets when I fuck you into the mattress,” he rambled, making you moan louder. You didn’t care who heard. Let them hear what he did to you. What he turned you into: his needy slut. “Tell me you want it.”
“I want it,” you moaned, his thrusts pushing your breasts harder against the table, your nipples hard and aching for him to touch them. He would later. You could wait. But you couldn’t wait to fall over the precipice. “‘M gonna come.”
“Do it. Won’t stop you,” he encouraged. He no doubt felt how close you were with how you clenched around him, your back starting to arch. “C’mon, baby. Come all over me.”
Your eyes fluttered as your body tensed, your walls pulsing around him your orgasm surged like a tidal wave. The ripples tore through you, ebbing and flowing as you moaned his name. If you could drown in pleasure, you’d want his name to be the last word that spilled from your lips.
“That’s my girl,” he praised as your limbs went lax.
You throbbed around him until he pulled out, making you whimper since he didn't come. You wanted him to finish inside you. He had you on your back with your legs spread wide before you could beg for it, keeping your dress up as he speared you once again. He thrust fast, needing his release just as badly as you needed yours.
“Need to see your face when you milk my cock,” he grunted, licking his thumb and bringing it to your clit. You whined, jerking underneath him as he rubbed the swollen nub. “Oh, stay still. You can give me one more.”
You almost denied him before you felt the coil tighten within you again. You never thought you could have back-to-back orgasms until you started sleeping with him. But it shouldn’t have surprised you. He played you like his favorite instrument and you were his good girl.
You could give him one more.
“Come with me,” you panted, staring into his darkened eyes as his face twisted in ecstasy only you could provide him. “Please.”
He couldn’t resist that last bit of begging.
The waves crashed again, adding to your first high, as his mouth opened in a groan, filling you in hot spurts. Watching him tip over the edge was a sight to behold, his cheeks tinged as his hips stilled and both of you tried to catch your breath. He laid across you after a moment, the weight of him making you sigh.
“Welcome back,” you smiled as your breathing evened out.
He stayed inside you as he brushed his lips against yours. You were going to make a mess all over the table when he pulled out, but it was worth any grief either of you got. “Good to be back,” he whispered, his hand on your cheek again in a tender display as his eyes scanned your face. “So beautiful.”
“Me fucked out or the dress?” You smiled.
“Both,” he smiled back, your face warm.
“Thank you,” you breathed, your heart still racing fast. You suddenly wished you were in bed so he could properly hold you. But he’d have you home soon enough for that. “Hope I didn't get you into any trouble,” you added. That was the last thing you wanted to do.
“Steve gets it,” he assured you, briefly closing his eyes when you brushed your fingers through his hair. “I’m sorry we got back late. He’s right. I should've just gone right home.”
Your heart clenched a little at that. Missions were important and not easy on either of you, but it was his job. “It’s okay. I’m just glad you made it home safely,” you said, arching your back. The table wasn't exactly comfortable, but you were too fucked out to care.
You also didn't want to be apart from him since he was back.
He wrapped an arm underneath you to ease some of your strain. “Still teased me by showing up like this. I might fuck your throat and put you over my knee tonight,” he groaned, squeezing a breast through your dress before he straightened out the dog tags. “But then I’m going to hold you after and not let go.”
You smiled, looking forward to it. “Yes, Sergeant.”
And you'd be sure to thank Steve later for clearing out the room so you could welcome your man home.
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Nothing to see here, lovelies. Go about your business! Hehe. 😇 Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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erwinsvow · 1 day
Text
introducing... bitchy reader!
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rafe never pays attention to sarah’s friends. new yet similar faces seem to make the rounds through tannyhill every week; the place was a revolving door. the occasional familiar girl would say hi to him, which would of course be ignored since he doesn’t care enough to say hi back.
so naturally, you become the exception to his little rule.
you and sarah are on opposite sides of the counter, flicking through magazines and taking sips from overpriced iced coffees, when he overhears a conversation that makes him stop and listen.
“-and he’s not like topper, like, at all. he’s really nice and actually talks to me instead of at me-”
“wow,” he hears you say, dragging out the syllables and sarcasm dripping from your voice. “such standards you have. no, really.”
“shut up. he’s totally sweet-” sarah says, but you interrupt her.
“he’s, like, totally a dirty pogue.” that catches his attention—not just the fact that there’s something going on between his sister and some pogue, but the way you say the sentence, how the words sound coming from your mouth. 
you nearly sound like rafe.
“that is so rude-”
“what? i’m just being honest. i’d be a bad friend if i didn’t tell you the truth.”
“what truth?” his sister questions.
“that you’re settling for some pogue boy because you’re bored of top. i get it. if i was dating him i’d be bored enough to fuck a pogue too.”
rafe cringes at the topic even though your word choice makes him laugh—topper is boring, though he doesn’t think he’s heard anyone else bring it up until now. he steps back into the doorway, watching the two of you. the crass words are coming from you, dressed in a sunny yellow dress and tapping pretty pink nails against the counter. 
“hey! i’m not bored-”
“you mean, you like hearing about his boat and golf every single day?”
“he has other hobbies! like-”
“like what?” you pause, watching sarah’s expression before giving her a pointed look—a look that says told you so. “who are you really trying to convince right now?” you flip through another magazine, finding something that must have caught your eye. you lift it to show sarah—some pinked striped pajamas and fuzzy slippers on the pages. “don’t i totally need this?”
“shut up.”
“that’s what someone says when they know the other person’s right,” you say with a mocking smile, setting down the magazine. he’s watching the whole thing—you’re funnier than he would have thought. “and if you change your mind just go to country club. top’s dime a dozen there.” the two of you start laughing. 
“i’m not gonna change my mind-”
“that’s what you said when you started dating topper,” you say it deadpan, and rafe holds back a laugh.
“-because he’s really nice. he’s a good guy.”
“ugh, sarah. making out with a dirty pogue at a bonfire is one thing. you’re talking like you’re in love. get a grip.”
“what? what’s so wrong with that?” sarah asks, taking a sip of her drink.
“because you can’t be in love with someone you have to hide your valuables around.” that’s when he decides to walk in—sarah sputtering on her drink while you roll your eyes.
“and what’re you girls talkin’ about?” rafe asks, and two sets of eyes turn to look at him. you look at him a little confused—in all the years you’ve known sarah and times you’ve been at tannyhill, rafe’s never once spoken to you.
“i don’t think it’s any of your business-” his sister says, and then he rolls his eyes. you interrupt right away.
“sarah, it’s okay.” you turn to rafe, looking right at him and leaning in a little like you’re gonna tell in something. “it’s really not any of your business.”
blank face, trying to be annoyed but not actually feeling annoyed, he stares back at you. his sister laughs stupidly, heading into the living room. she leaves you alone with rafe in the kitchen, but as you grab your drink and try to follow sarah, rafe says something.
“y’know i heard that shit you were sayin’. you’re funny, kid.” you turn back to look at rafe.
“thanks. i wasn’t joking.”
“yeah. good. at least one of my sister’s friends has ‘er head screwed straight.” you laugh, but the look on your face says you didn’t think it was funny.
“are you trying to compliment me? by insulting all my other friends?” he wasn’t expected that retort.
“no. no, i-”
“maybe if your friend wasn’t such a shit boyfriend, sarah wouldn’t be talking to some pogue. but hey, what do i know?”
“hey, kid, i-”
“don’t call me that.” you roll your eyes, walking to the living room without even glancing back at rafe. he calls out after you again.
“so have you?” you pause, turning again.
“have i what?” “made out with some pogue at the bonfire.” he shrugs. “that’s what you said to sarah, isn’t it?”
“again, how is that any of your business?” you ask, cocking your head at him.
“that’s not an answer.”
“i don’t owe you an answer. but for the record, no, i haven’t. i actually have standards.” he doesn’t miss the remark and what it says about his sister.
“good,” rafe says, looking at you. his eyes rake over your body before he can stop it—your short hem, the jewelry dangling on your wrists and neck, the heels even though you hadn’t gone anywhere.
“shut up. weirdo.” you walk to the living room where sarah’s waiting for you.
rafe’s gonna have a hard time staying away from you.
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462 notes · View notes
pomefioredove · 2 days
Note
Okay but imagine one of the guys actually win the prefect, and they just go rubbing it on the others face by making them wear their respective form uniform.
Except Kalim, he would probably just make them have a sleepover every night and paint each other nails.
ohhh see now I'm imagining all the alternate routes this could take... okay okay I'm so here for this. like half of the cast would totally make them wear the uniform just to rub it in, the other half would just be crazy about seeing them in the dorm uniform at all. I DO have some thoughts on this concept alone... and I'll make another part later yk yk
summary: joining their dorms + wearing the uniforms. a proper ending to this type of post: short fics characters: ace, deuce, jack, epel, riddle, ruggie, azul, jamil, kalim, vil additional info: yuu is gender neutral, ruggie is cute, azul is the cutest, vil enjoyers come get your food, maybe a little ooc for some parts
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If you thought it was bad before, the news that Malleus intended to marry you made everything about twenty times more chaotic. Bids were upped to insurmountable sums, rumors were spread like the plague, fights were raging through campus as the deadline to donate approached. Even Crowley was starting to feel a little antsy, despite all of the brand new amenities he had already ordered for his office.
Finally, the day came. The announcement was held in the courtyard, where just about any student who had stakes in the matter had shirked whatever after-school responsibilities they had to gather. The prefect themselves was nowhere to be found, though only few noticed their absence.
"Maybe it'll be nice," you say to your direbeast companion, the both of you tucked away in a dark corner at Ramshackle.
"It'll definitely beat living in this dump. You think they got good food in Diasomnia?" Grim murmurs.
You grimace. "Uh... sure. I can't imagine they wouldn't, right?"
Crowley clears his throat, pulling a thin, delicate envelope out of his coat pocket while the crowd eagerly watches on. He takes his sweet time opening it, much to everyone's utter dismay, and when he finally withdraws the contents the entire courtyard falls quiet enough to hear a pin drop.
"And our winner is..."
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First Year's Ending
"Ace Trappola, Deuce Spade, Jack Howl, and Epel Felmier. Congratulations! The prefect will be ready at Ramshackle for your collection this evening. I trust you'll sort out the details..."
The four freshman look between each other, a mix of awe and shock on each of their faces.
Everyone else is staring daggers at them.
Vil is the first to speak. "How?"
"We may or may not have sweetened the deal with a few exclusive bonuses," Ace snickers, crossing his arms. Vil rolls his eyes. Deuce sighs.
"We'll be Crowley's new slaves for months after this..."
Jack grumbles from the back of the four. "Well, it was worth it. Imagine if someone underhanded and dishonest had won, and-"
"Yeah, yeah. Whatever,"
The four pause, looking between each other in silence. Then, finally:
"So who will they be staying with?" Epel asks, catching Vil's attention again.
"Excellent question, Epel," the housewarden smiles, stepping back into the conversation. "We would be more than willing to accommodate the prefect at Pomefiore. Our dorm far outshines the others."
Leona growls. "I heard that. Besides, why should you be first in line? We've already housed them before, they were plenty comfortable then,"
"As I recall, you forced them into servitude as penance for staying," Riddle snaps. "Not exactly the friendliest host. I think they would be much more comfortable at Heartslabyul."
The four freshman can only watch in silence as the housewardens break out into bickering with one another about who's dorm is best.
"Soooo..." Ace starts. "Maybe we should rotate?"
Deuce sighs. "For once, you actually have a good idea,"
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Riddle's Ending
"Riddle Rosehearts, congratulations! I'll alert the prefect at once," Crowley says, immediately turning and disappearing into the crowd before anything can get ugly.
It doesn't exactly come across as a surprise to anyone- Riddle closely calculated his spendings, taking into consideration Leona's overconfidence, Malleus' stranger proposal, and Kalim's over-enthusiasm.
Of course, with some additional prodding about how no other dorm is responsible enough to handle another person like Heartslabyul, Crowley finally gave in.
And now, you're sat in front of the dorm's rose gardens, suitcase in tow as you make no apparent effort to walk in.
"Thought I'd find you out here," Trey says, taking a seat in the grass next to you. "Feeling okay?"
"Nervous," you admit.
Trey chuckles, much to your annoyance. "I promise there's really nothing to be nervous about. Riddle is really quite happy you're here,"
You find that a bit surprising, though you suppose it's hard to tell when he's excited. He always has this impression of deep psychological stress on him that makes him difficult to read.
"Is he?"
"Oh, yeah. He's been running Ace and Deuce ragged getting ready. He really wants to impress you," Trey pauses with a small smile. "You'll get used to the order of things here in no time. And if you ever need any help, you've got me, Cater, Ace, Deuce... I'm sure even Riddle will take it easy on you."
You smile in return. "Thanks, I-"
"Prefect!" Riddle storms out of the front doors, looking rather well-dressed for a simple Tuesday afternoon. "You were expected four minutes ago! I've taken the liberty of finding your measurements, so your dorm uniform is already ready and inside!"
Yeah. Excited, right. You give Trey a little look (to which he only waves merrily) and start off behind the housewarden.
For a moment, as you follow him, you could swear you catch him humming and smiling. But before you can say anything about it he catches Ace messing with your dorm uniform and starts shouting.
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Ruggie's Ending
"And the winner is... no... this can't be right..."
Crowley clutches the paper, bringing it close to his face. He clicks his tongue, murmuring to himself.
"Um... Ruggie Bucchi, everyone!"
The news sends a shockwave through the audience, and everyone turns to the sophomore at the back of the courtyard. The sudden shift in energy is enough to make him drop his sandwich.
"Damn it..." he grumbles, picking it off the ground and swiping the dirt off of it with his sleeve. "Still good, eh?"
"Are you deaf?" Leona glares. "You're just embarrassing yourself now, and me by association."
Ruggie raises an eyebrow. "What? Oh, the lottery-thingy? I'm pretty sure Crowley misread that. He's going senile, y'know,"
Crowley crosses his arms, begrudginly handing off the paper to Azul in the front. He adjusts his glasses.
"It says Ruggie Bucchi,"
"Then someone mistyped it! I'm telling 'ya, there's no way I managed to scrounge up enough before the deadline. I was digging between couch cushions by the end of it,"
Leona looks as if he's about to smack him upside the head. "Would you just get up there?"
"Geez, alright. But don't blame me when someone comes around with the right winner later," he says, trudging to the front of the crowd. "So what do I gotta do?"
"Erm... the prefect is waiting at Ramshackle. You'll collect them and return to Savanaclaw, where you'll be responsible for handling the details."
"Sure, whatever. Let's get to it, then,"
---
Even your surprise is palpable, though you suppose it could be a lot worse. Ruggie has been a pal before, helping you out at Sam's and convincing Leona to let you off the hook when you accidentally annoy him.
Though, he himself seems less than pleased as you step out of your new room in Savanaclaw, dressed in a slightly too-big uniform.
Leona smirks as if watching something amusing and claps, slowly. "Looking good. See, none of those other pompous outfits woulda looked half as nice on you. Nice work, Ruggie,"
Ruggie rolls his eyes and leans back against the wall. Leona excuses himself to find somewhere warm to nap, leaving you two to stare at each other.
"So... what's wrong?"
"Hm?"
"I mean," you say carefully. "You don't exactly seem excited about winning."
"Oh," Ruggie shrugs. "That's cause I didn't. Guys like me don't win anything. I'm sure someone will come to give you away to the right winner tomorrow."
The thought doesn't sit well with you- you're already here, after all, and Grim is gorging himself in the lounge, and you really-kinda-don't-mind Ruggie winning.
"Well, I hope not,"
He raises an eyebrow. "You know I can hardly afford to take care of myself, right?"
"So then we're even. Just don't make me go through all that bidding stuff again," you sigh. "Let's leave it at that."
A brief, though comfortable silence falls over the two of you, and then he grins. "Alright, then. I can live with that,"
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Octotrio's Ending
"Azul Ashengrotto!"
Azul's immediate reaction is to collapse. he hadn't really realized how much stress the anticipation was causing him until suddenly his knees were buckling like he was learning to walk on land all over again.
Floyd grabs his shoulder to keep him upright and Jade joins the scattered applause.
"Don't look so pale, Azul. I'm sure this will prove to be a worthwhile investment," he says, folding his hands neatly in front of him.
A part of Azul knows that Jade isn't referring to anything financial, but he doesn't say a word about it.
"Besides," Jade goes on. "It'll be nice having another member of my club."
Both Azul and Floyd groan in unison.
---
Floyd gives you a standing ovation when you walk into the Mostro Lounge, fully dressed in the provided dorm uniform.
Azul, on the other hand, looks away entirely.
"It feels too long," you say, staring at the bottoms of your pants. You're not exactly in a place to complain, so you keep your voice meek.
"We can make the necessary adjustments," Jade says, walking into the room with a tray of tea, his all-too-knowing smile as unnerving as ever. "You look very nice, though. Wouldn't you say, Azul?"
The merman's eyes immediately turn away from Jade. "Hm?"
"Tell the prefect they look nice, Azul,"
Floyd laughs from across the room, clearly enjoying the spectacle. You tilt your head to the side like a curious puppy, not exactly sure what this banter is about. But it's not your place to pry, either.
Azul's face is beet-red. "You... look nice,"
"Thank you,"
"So are they gonna work or what? I'm tired," Floyd whines, lying on one of the couches and kicking off his shoes.
Azul grimaces. "Don't do that, that's disgusting. And I thought we should let them adjust a few days before giving them the option of working,"
"Option?" Jade's grin widens. "My, aren't you feeling generous?"
"I... assume this process has been rather jarring. I don't want any of my employees distracted or mopey. Is that right?"
You blink. "Uh... yes. This whole thing has been pretty terrible,"
Azul nods in acknowledgement as Grim tumbles in the room, wearing a brand new purple and silver-streaked bow. "Can't believe you guys had one of these 'jus lying around! I feel like a million thaumarks!"
You chuckle and scoop him into your arms. "You look very handsome. Just like Azul,"
Azul can feel his soul leaving his body and has to swiftly turn around to face the wall so you can't see him blushing. Floyd laughs.
"Oh- oh I meant the bow looks just like Azul's outfit!" you correct yourself. He pretends he didn't hear anything at all.
Jade breaks the awkward silence with a chuckle. "Ah, what fun this will be. Now, I think it's only appropriate that we give these two a proper welcome dinner. Prefect, do you care for mushrooms?"
Floyd and Azul groan in unison.
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Jamil's Kalim's Ending
"Kalim al-Asim!"
Everyone could see that coming from a mile away. The disgruntled mumbles and groans of the crowd are drowned out by the cheers and claps of one sophomore, practically jumping up and down in the middle of the crowd.
"Yes! Yessss! This is going to be so much fun!"
Jamil suddenly looks exhausted.
Kalim runs to the front of the crowd, shakes Crowley's hand, steals the envelope from him, and sprints the rest of the way to Ramshackle.
Your moping is quite abruptly interrupted by a procession of loud knocks at the door, and after managing to summon your courage, you answer them.
"Wh-"
The very second the door is open, a familiar ball of energy is in your arms, squeezing you tightly.
"I wonnnn, prefect! I won!"
Your eyes widen. "You- you-"
You breathe a sigh of relief.
Out of everyone who threw their name in the hat, you couldn't get much luckier than Kalim. Financial problems? Gone. Loneliness? Blown away in the wind. Your chances of getting assassinated...? Well, let's hope Jamil is in a good mood.
Your uniforms are ready, measured to the exact inch, sitting on a set of mannequins that greet you as soon as you're inside.
Jamil is hovering behind one of them, picking at the sleeve of your school uniform for stray threads. He gives you a sideways glance, not exactly looking happy.
"My two best friends in the whole world in the same dorm!" Kalim claps. "You have to try on your dorm uniform, you'll love it! Oh, let me get you some new sheets- we have silk!"
He bounds off down the hall, leaving you alone in the lounge. The silence is thick and uncomfortable.
"Yeah, I'm outta here," Grim says, walking off in the opposite direction.
"Grim!" You whisper-shout.
"It's a preventative measure! No cracker-dry mouth for me!" and with that, he's gone.
Jamil smirks slightly, turning his attention back to sorting the uniforms. "You should get changed while you still can. I have a feeling Kalim will be attached to your side for the rest of the evening,"
You're pleasantly surprised to see how well the dorm uniform fits you, and your return to the lounge is accompanied with a little smile. The fabric is light and breezy, perfect for the dorm's usual weather- you could certainly get used to the perpetual summer.
"Fits well, I presume?" Jamil asks. "You certainly seem to be in high spirits."
"It could be worse,"
"Much worse," he agrees.
A silence falls over the two of you. Eventually, he sighs to himself, watching you out of the corner of his eyes.
"If you ever need a break from Kalim," Jamil says tentatively. "I could certainly find a way to distract him. Just so you know."
You understand the nature of his offer immediately, and though you know it's wrong, you don't exactly say no.
"...Thank you, Jamil,"
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Vil's Ending
"Vil Schoenheit! Thank the sevens..."
Though he walks to Ramshackle to collect his prize with a sense of ease, Vil admits that there was a brief moment where he felt anxious about not winning.
Standing in that crowd, surrounded by royalty and nobles, his chances were higher than most but certainly not assured. The very thought of you being stuck with someone other than him was enough to send a shiver up his spine.
After all, how many people on this campus would you feel comfortable with taking your measurements? None, none but him.
"Hold still," he says for the millionth time. "I'm almost done."
Vil insisted on taking your measurements himself, and you had no qualms about that. After all, things could be worse.
"There. I'll have these sent out right away. Pomefiore has many students of your size, so it's likely we'll have a spare uniform for you. That is, until I can have one custom-made,"
"You really don't have to..."
He raises an eyebrow. "Of course I do. You're a Pomefiore student now, I expect you to present yourself like one,"
A knock at the door pulls your attention away from him, though it's Vil who answers it.
He returns to you, dorm uniform in arm.
"That was fast," you say, accepting the bundle of clothes.
"Punctuality is important. Now, get changed, I want to see what I'll have to adjust for you,"
Waiting for your return is almost as nerve-wrecking as it was waiting for Crowley to call out his name. Vil can't be sure why exactly you're making him so nervous now, but it's all he can do to keep from showing it.
The dorm uniform- which you've dawned before- is just as comfortable as you remember. Warm, but not suffocating, soft but durable.
Vil stares at you for a short while before saying anything, simply drinking in your presence.
"Come here. I need to have a look,"
You inch forward, standing in front of him as he turns around you in circle, inspecting every inch. "Well, it fits much better than your last,"
He pauses, stopping in front of you. You look down at your feet, feeling as nervous under his analytical gaze as ever.
Vil chuckles, cupping your chin and tilting your head up to meet his eyes. "You look wonderful. I'll have to help with your confidence, though,"
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Good Ending
"And our winner is... M-"
"Crowley!" a loud voice resonates from the very back of the crowd. The sound of hurried footsteps follow it as Trein and Crewel show up on scene.
"We're... we're kind of in the middle of something-"
"You are absolutely not. I cannot believe I had to find out about your little scheme from Trappola and Spade, of all pups," Crewel grimaces. "Are you well?"
"Well I- I-"
"Called it," Ruggie grins. "Totally senile."
Leona rolls his eyes. "Oi! Just read the damn paper!"
"Absolutely not. This is a highly immoral and borderline illegal offense," Trein crosses his arms. "You will all be refunded promptly. Now return to your studies!"
The crowd slowly dissipates, murmuring amongst themselves. Crowley remains in front of the well at the front of the courtyard, kicking the ground with his hands behind his back, like a child being scolded.
Both Trein and Crewel glare. "If you were having such issues with the prefect's expenses, you could have asked,"
"In what universe is giving them away to teenage boys a sound idea?" Trein grimaces. "I can overlook many of the things you do, but this is far too much."
"But-"
"That's enough," Crewel snaps his pointer against his palm. "If the prefect is causing you such troubles, we'll be glad to take them off your hands. In fact, I've already had the necessary legal papers drawn. I've always wanted a pup of my own, you know."
---
A gentle knock at the door rouses you from your melancholy and after some lengthy pestering from Grim, you finally go to answer it.
Outside is none other than Ace and Deuce, looking rather somber.
"No- don't tell me," you say. "I don't even want to hear it."
Deuce sighs. "It's not that. The whole thing got canceled,"
"No- wait, canceled?"
"Someone got caught with their hand in the cookie jar," Ace snickers, but quickly clears his throat after Deuce gives him a sharp glare. "Crowley's negotiated a different solution to the problem."
Deuce nods. "Hypothetically... how do you feel about being adopted?"
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enwoso · 2 days
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BORROWED. NOT STOLEN - alessia russo
*i have quite a few alessia fics that im working on atm but if anyone has any requests for players then lmk because im open to write for other players<3*
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"LESS! hurry up man!" you shouted across the room as you stood watching your girlfriend dawdle down the stairs. you and the blonde had been asked to film a diary room episode together — a way to document any world cup memories.
where the pair of you would sit down and basically talk about camp and other things until the media team had enough content.
watching as alessia walked down the stairs scrolling through her phone as a small smile was on her face which to you felt like years but finally after ten minutes it wasn't even two she had made it to where you were stood.
"i think i've aged about fifty years in the time it's took you to walk down fifteen steps!" you huffed as alessia looked up from her phone slotting it into her blue england shorts, smiling as you shaking her head a little at your dramatics.
"yeah? you look it too!"
you knew that was coming, rolling your eyes and smacking the blondes shoulder pushing her slightly as she held back her laugh.
"baby, i'm joking" she said while swinging her arm and wrapping it around your shoulders, pulling you closer to her as she placed a soft kiss to the top of your head as you began to walk towards where you were filming.
"your lucky i love you russo!"
you sat down first on the couch as alessia slotted down comfortably beside you, as she sat a little lower making sure her head rested on your shoulder making you look like the taller one when in reality it was the polar opposite.
"okay, you ready?" you asked the blonde after being given the run down from the camera men as the cameras began to film.
"hi guys, i'm y/n.." you smiled waiting for alessia to say her name but instead there was an awkward pause until a yelp escaped the blonde from you elbowing her in the ribs in order to get her attention.
"ow! what was that for-"
"introduce yourself!"
you cut the blonde off as she held her side dramatically even though you had barely touched her. "you said you were doing the introductions!" alessia defended herself.
you sighed, "no i said i would- oh nevermind,, im y/n and that's alessia" you smiled at the camera, pointing at yourself and then at alessia who looked confused.
filming got to a great start, and it got to the point where you actually forgot you were being filmed, "OH my fear of spiders is totally normal, at least i'm not scared of turkeys" you teased. it being your turn to poke fun of the blondes fears as she had just spent to last five minutes poking fun at your totally normal fear of spiders.
you began to recount the story of the other day, when the two of you were out on a walk in your down time in australia.
"no did you not see them, they did start and charge at us!" she defended as you gave her a side eye look, "i wouldn't say charging"
"oh i would!"
"it's was walking and minding its own business!"
"yeah.. but it did look us in the eye."
"then you began to use me as a shield as you hid behind me" you smirked, knowing the blonde was a lot taller then you and your small frame was never going to protect her from anything. "well i wasn't getting eaten by a turkey! england wouldn't have there stargirl then" she defended herself as you scoffed rolling your eyes at her cocky comment.
"oh so instead i'm just turkey bait to you,, cheers less!" you rolled your eyes as she began to plead her case of 'that's not what i meant!' as the filming carried on.
"in the eighty-" you began talking as alessia looked at you not that she was listening and you could tell.
"did you come in here with that cap on?" she asked you, making you stop your story as you looked at her with a strange look.
"yeah?" you responded as she looked at the black cap that was on your head, snatching it from your head and messing up your hair in the process and then placing it on her head instead.
she turned around, and back giving you a dramatic pose as she looked at you with a serious look trying to hold in her laughter. "do i look good?" she asked as you nodded, alessia beginning to pose more.
"here comes the vogue model!" you whispered, still loud enough for people to hear you. "think this suits me" she says to herself as your still smiling and laughing at your girlfriends antics.
"do you just want my entire wardrobe?" you jokingly asked knowing the blonde had quite a few of your clothes in her wardrobe however realistically it was nothing compared to amount of clothes you had 'borrowed' from the blonde.
"i've only got your cap!" she smiled turning to look at you, "and anyways your one to talk, there my joggers!" she said pointing to the grey joggers you were wearing. you gasped, "they are not, these are actually mine ms russo"
the blonde's eyebrows rose as she smirked pointing to the initials that were embroidered next to pocket, "AR, yeah?" she hummed a smirk on her lips as she knew she had caught you in the act of stealing her clothes once again, as you paused for a minute coming up with your next line.
"th-that means nothing, it just the brand name!" you scoffed coming up with a half-assed excuse as alessia rose her eyebrows trying her best not to burst out laughing.
"mhm, what brand?"
"oh not sure, mum bought them for me for christmas!"
you sighed throwing your hands in the air, as alessia began to laugh not being able to hold it in any longer as you rolled your eyes playfully as her.
"you've stolen my hoodies though, and it wouldn't surprise me if you were wearing my socks!" alessia pointed to the black adidas hoodie you were wearing and then to the white adidas socks you were wearing.
shaking your head as you began to plead your innocence once again, "the hoodies borrowed, not stolen." you began really emphasising the word borrowed. "and the socks are actually mine!" you smirked as alessia hummed side eyeing you.
"really?"
"yes!" you say looking at the camera but mouthing 'no' but alessia can't see as she's sat slightly behind you. "doubt that!" the blonde mumbled as you turned to her and began to laugh.
"no.. th-there actually georgia's but i don't think she knows" you say in between giggles, exposing yourself meaning georgia will definitely know because even if she doesn't watch the video on youtube, alessia will make it her mission to tell her.
"so the two huge suitcases you brung to australia" alessia began as you turned to her and slotted back into the gap at the side of her, nodding slowly unsure as to where she was going with this sentence. "what did you actually bring, because i think i'm yet to see you in your own clothes." alessia continued.
"as if you didn't bring three whole suitcases with you!" you defended yourself, as her and katie had packed enough for the two of them two move to australia as everyone else in the team had two bags.
"yeah, but i haven't been living out of someone else's wardrobe for the past two weeks like some"
"i did bring clothes! these slides are mine!" you smiled bringing your cream slides into the camera angle, as you tried to bargain your case when in reality you just liked to wear your girlfriends clothes — they were comfy and as a big bonus they smelled like her.
"your such a big dope!"
"your big dope though." you smiled looking at alessia as she too had a huge smile on her face as the blonde  brought you closer to what you thought was a hug instead she was putting you in a headlock.
"thanks for watching, i've been-"
"ALESSIA MIA TERESA RUSSO! let go of me now!”
"i've been alessia and she's been y/n!"
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heavenlyhischier · 2 days
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𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐞 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐬 𝐋𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐬 | 𝐋𝐮𝐤𝐞 𝐇𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐞𝐬
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word count: 4.9k
summary: The one where you run into the guy who makes you believe in love all over again.
warnings: kissing, strangers to friends to lovers where they’re both a little oblivious, game mentioned is the game against philly with luke's ot goal
note: no angst?? who am i?? thank you maddy for answering my questions about luke so i could make this as accurate as possible ily
Someone once said that love comes when you least expect it and when you’re not looking for it, but you used to never believe that. You used to think that love was something you always searched for in others, that love was something everyone wanted, but you stopped believing that after it kept leaving you stranded and broken. You stopped looking for romantic love, choosing to believe that maybe it wasn’t meant for you, until one day when you’re quite literally trampled by the boy that made you believe in it all over again.
Walking the path near the water was one of your favorite pastimes since you’ve moved to the unfamiliar city. It was something that always brought you a sense of serenity whenever reality became a little too overbearing, or when you just needed a space to breathe after a particularly straining day at work. It was also your favorite way to start off your day whenever you had the time. Always a coffee in hand as you savored the peacefulness before the day truly began.
Today was one of the fortunate days when the weather wasn’t too cold that you needed more than a light jacket when you stepped outside. There weren't many people out and about as the sun had barely risen, but there were still a handful on their morning jogs or simply relaxing on the benches as they read a book. You had only looked away from the path in front of you for a brief second when you collided with something, or rather someone, and it sent your barely drank coffee to the ground, spilling all over your shoes.
“Shit,” You heard a boyish voice exclaim, his hands grasping at your biceps to keep you upright, “I’m so sorry!”
You knew it wasn’t on purpose, but you couldn’t help but grow a slight annoyance as you stared at the dropped drink. It wasn’t entirely his fault because you weren’t paying attention either and it wasn’t like you had just bought the coffee, you were just slow to drink it. Looking up at the person in front of you, your breath hitched in your throat when you saw one of the cutest guys you’d seen in the city yet. Though he looked slightly familiar, you just couldn’t place where you might have seen him.
He had a sympathetic, small smile on his face as he awkwardly dropped his hands back to his side. He had a beanie covering his hair, but there were a few strands of curls that had managed to poke out from the thick material. You were close enough to him that you can see a small scratch on the bridge of his nose that looked almost fully healed. He was quite a bit taller than you as well, his anxious eyes peering down into your own as you slowly blink at him.
“Are you okay,” He spoke again, gaze briefly filtering down to your shoes.
“Yeah,” You sigh as you step away from him, “I’m fine, but my shoes might not be.”
The both of you let out awkward chuckles before you bend down to grab the cup, slightly frowning to yourself as you bring it to your chest. When you meet his eyes again, he looks as if he was contemplating something by the way he keeps looking all around you. His hands were shoved in the pocket of his hoodie as he shifted his weight on his feet. The air is a little awkward as you think about just walking away, but he speaks before your feet ever move.
“Let me buy you a new drink,” He suggests, his voice slightly quieter than before as if he was nervous, “It’s the least I can do.”
“Oh, no you don’t have to do that,” You shake your head, “It’s no big deal. It’s just a coffee.”
“Please,” He tries, not wanting to press so hard enough he comes off desperate, “It looked almost full based on what I can see on the ground.”
You couldn’t help but notice his shy smile and hesitant eyes as he waited for your response. His cheeks and nose were slightly pink from the wind that refused to stop whipping at any exposed skin it found. He was sporting a nervous half smile as you mulled the option over in your head, trying to gather if there was any plausible reason to not let the cute boy with a crooked smile buy you another coffee.
“I guess it wouldn’t hurt,” You agree, a smile of your own toying on your lips as you keep your gaze on him, “But only if you tell me your name first.”
“Luke,” He lightly chuckled, taking his hand out of his pocket, extending it for you to shake, “Yours?”
You gingerly took his hand in your own as you told him your name, ignoring the way his touch made your cheeks heat up and butterflies fill your stomach. You retracted your hand quickly, moving it to grasp the cup with both hands as you gestured for Luke to lead the way. You catch the way his eyes briefly dart to your cup before he began to walk the direction you had been coming from.
The two of you fell into a bit of an awkward conversation, him asking you if you were from the area and him telling you that he wasn’t either. He told you that he played professional hockey for the Devils and it clicked in your brain that that was why he looked familiar. You had seen him on TV, but you weren’t involved in the sport enough to put a name to his face. You teased him a little and playfully asked if he would get you tickets to a game, but the speed at which he said yes shocked even himself.
When Luke was handing you your new drink, that was when he told you that he was already running a bit late to some sort of meeting with his team and as much as he’d like to stay, he had to leave. You would be lying if you said you weren’t a little disappointed at the news, but you ended up exchanging phone numbers before he was rushing away, still not entirely looking where he was going. You watched him leave with a smile on your face and a sort of hope filling your chest that you hadn’t felt in a long time.
The two of you had began texting each other so often that people started to ask questions. Though it had only taken three days of you quietly giggling to yourself for your roommate to ask who the guy was. Whereas for Luke, it had only taken Jack until after practice the day he had met you. Jack had never seen his younger brother rush to check his phone while still in full gear before so quickly, and that was how he knew.
You didn’t see Luke for nearly two weeks after you had initially met courtesy of the stars, also known as his games and your work schedule, never aligning in the right way. When Luke had texted you after one of his games asking if you were free the following evening and you finally got to answer with a yes, you grew excited, and also extremely nervous.
He had given you the option to go out and do something, or to come over to his place and the two of you could order food and watch movies; just hangout, he had said. You ultimately decided on the second option since the weather had grown colder and you weren’t necessarily in the mood to join the crowds of people in the city. He subtly mentioned that his brother would be gone so it would just be the two of you, and the thought made your cheeks warm despite knowing he had no underlying intentions.
When you had texted Luke to tell him you had finally found a parking spot and he told you where to go from there, you had to take a small breather in your car to get yourself to stop shaking before finally going into the expensive looking building. You were so focused on taking in all of the little details inside the lobby that you weren’t paying attention to where you were going and ran straight into someone’s chest.
You let out a surprised squeal as you squeeze your eyes closed at the impact, fully prepared to go stumbling backwards, but you never do. You can feel their hands on your hips, the pads of their fingers slightly digging into the skin separated by the material of your shirt. The soft laugh that filtered through your eyes made your eyes snap open to see a familiar face sporting an amused smile.
“At least there’s no coffee this time,” Luke teases, keeping his hands on you a tad longer than necessary before he pulls them back to his own body.
“Shut up,” You mumbled, hoping he didn’t notice the tinge to your cheeks, “I was looking at the stupid fancy decorations. I didn’t know you were going to be down here.”
“I noticed,” He chuckled, “You thought I wouldn’t meet you down here?”
“Well, no. You gave me the apartment number so I expected to meet you there,” You shrugged, forcing your gaze away from him and to your feet.
“You would’ve thought it was weird if I didn’t give you the apartment number,” He raises his eyebrows even though you aren’t looking at him, “Besides, sometimes people have trouble finding the door. It’s a little confusing.”
When you had reached the floor his apartment was on and saw that it was only one big hallway, you couldn’t help but give him a confused look. It wasn’t confusing at all, especially given the fact that his door was only the second one on the left. You could tell he was purposely avoiding looking in your direction as he pushed through the door, holding it open for you to slip inside, and you chose to let it be.
The rest of the night was spent with the two of you talking about anything that possibly came to mind once you got through the brief bout of awkward tension, and you quickly found that Luke could talk forever. He talked about his teammates and family in a way that made you smile because it was clear he truly loved and looked up to them. You told him about your family back home and why you moved and the way he was hanging on to every word made you flustered because no one had ever cared enough to listen to you that way.
By the time the night was winding down, you were close enough to him on the couch that your thighs would brush together and his arm was slung around the cushions behind you, but not touching you. There was a movie playing on the tv in front of you, but you would be lying if you said you were paying attention to it. All you could think about was how things with Luke flowed so naturally and how you hadn’t felt this comfortable around someone in so long that you forgot the feeling even existed.
The two of you began hanging out regularly after that, never doing anything more than something you would do with a friend, but you could feel your feelings for him grow with each passing day. It started off as small notions and things you could brush off, but then you found yourself thinking of him no matter what you were doing. You were always seeing something that reminded you of him or something that made you think ‘oh, Luke would love that. I can’t wait to show him’. However, you were far too scared to let yourself believe that he would ever feel the same, so you swallowed those urges and went on as if nothing had changed.
When Luke had asked if you would be interested in going to one of his games, you thought nothing of it. You had told him that you would gladly go, but you would only need one ticket since your roommate worked most evenings and you didn’t necessarily have anyone else to go with. He told you not to worry about that and he would figure something out for you before he asked for your email to send the ticket. What he meant by that, you weren’t sure, but you didn’t ask questions.
You asked your roommate to help you with your outfit before she left for work that day, wanting to make sure what you wore wasn’t too much but also wasn’t sloppy. Once she had settled on something that adhered to your standards, she managed to leave enough time for her to help with your hair as well. She could tell that you were nervous based on the way your hands were constantly fiddling with each other and by the way your already clumsy habits seemed to increase by the second.
You weren’t entirely sure why you were so nervous. It wasn’t like this was the first time you were hanging out with Luke, and it surely wasn’t going to be the last. For some reason, him inviting you to one of his games felt different, but then it made you queasy because you began to think about how many girls he had invited before. By the time you were on your way to the arena, you had managed to calm yourself down enough that your heart rate was almost back to normal and your self sabotaging thoughts had been long forgotten.
Luke had taken the liberty of reserving parking for you, which you tried to deny but he said he had already done it so there was no room to argue. The parking garage was full of people in various jerseys for both teams as they made their way into the arena with you following suit because you had virtually no idea where you were going. You were so focused on looking at section numbers that you kept bumping into people, quiet apologies tumbling from your lips as you rushed away from their pointed looks.
Eventually, you found the correct section and showed your ticket to the usher at the top of the stairs before following his direction as you walked down. You stopped at the row your seat was in, your eyes falling on a group of women as they talked and laughed with one another, and you suddenly felt a wave of insecurity wash over you. They clearly knew each other, and you were there by yourself, and on top of that, they were absolutely gorgeous.
You took a deep breath before you shuffled down the row and to your seat, trying to ignore the way their voices grew quiet whenever you sat down. You could feel their eyes on you as you kept yours on the rink, watching as they set up the net and as others filed down towards their seats before the game started. It wasn’t until you felt a gentle tap on your shoulder that you turned to look at the one sitting right next to you.
“Hi,” One of them greeted, a bright smile on her face, “I’m Nicole!
You let out a shaky breath as you took her hand, giving her your name before returning her smile. The way her eyes lit up and she briefly glanced at the girls around her with a subtle smirk threw you off, but she was quick to ease your confusion as she moved her focus back to you.
“So you’re the girl Luke won’t stop talking about,” She playfully teases, “He made sure Jesper told me you would be coming and to look out for you so you weren’t alone.”
You can’t stop your face from heating up by being identified as ‘the girl Luke won’t shut about’, and judging by the way the other girls looked at you, it seemed to be a universal experience. They went around and introduced themselves, and their children, to you before they began to ask you questions. They started off with the easy questions such as your career, if you were in school, if you were from the area, if you were a big fan of hockey, but they quickly transferred the topic over to your relationship with Luke.
“We’re just friends,” You meekly said, eyes darting away from them as you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth.
“But you like him,” Cat asks as she raises her eyebrows, though her tone hints that she knows the answer to that.
You briefly hesitated, not sure what your response should be, but you were very graciously saved by the music blaring through the speakers followed by the announcer's voice. You hastily turned towards the ice, thanking whatever higher being saved you from the embarrassment of admitting your feelings out loud.
As the game started, you caught yourself really only focusing on Luke rather than the puck itself. If he wasn’t on the ice, you were leaning towards the girls beside you to ask questions about the game you didn’t entirely understand. When he was on the ice, you flinched every time he got hit a little too hard, or when he would trip over seemingly nothing and fall on the ice. Although, you did know to join in on the collective booing whenever he was sent to the penalty box for a bogus call.
The game ended up going into overtime with Luke, his brother, and team captain on the ice as they stood opposite the Flyers players. Your hands were clasped together as you leaned forward, waiting with baited breath as the puck dropped on the ice. You watch as they skate towards their net, hastily trying to get the puck from the other team. You’re not sure who managed to get possession, but the next thing you know Luke is taking a shot that ends up in the net to win the game.
You jump out of your seat as you scream, your eyes not leaving Luke as he learns forward into a celebratory bow that you’re positive he did when he was at Michigan. A fact you knew after you asked him “if he was even good at hockey” and he proceeded to show you his highlight reels for the next hour. His team rushes towards him with giant smiles on their faces as they crowd around him, the arena filling with cheers so loud that it made your ears ring.
By the time things had calmed down, Nicole was the first to tell you that you were supposed to go with them down to the locker room. You walked through the arena with them, only briefly stopping to talk with security because you didn’t have the correct pass. The area outside the locker room was buzzing with life as various friends and family members of the team waited for the guys, their voices meshing with the loud cheers from inside.
The guys slowly began to trickle out of the locker room clad in their fancy and expensive suits, dopey grins on their faces. You stayed tucked between Cat and Nicole as they talked, but you were only halfway listening as you kept an eye out for Luke. Some of the guys you only vaguely remembered from pictures or videos Luke had shown you, but most you knew with confidence because of how often their names popped up in conversation.
When you finally saw a familiar head of curls walking through the doors, it was a bit embarrassing how quickly a smile grew on your face. He wasn’t even looking in your direction, instead animatedly talking to his brother who had seen you, a slight smirk on his face. The girls had stepped away from you, knowing looks on their faces when Luke finally looked in front of him to see you standing there waiting for him.
If they thought Luke was excited before, it was absolutely nothing compared to the look on his face when his eyes landed on you. He quickened his pace, leaving his conversation, and his brother, behind as he only focused on getting to you. You were painfully aware of the multitude of gazes on you, the attention beginning to slightly overwhelm you, but all of the worry disappeared the moment Luke wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close to him.
“Congratulations on your goal,” You mumble with your head pressed against his chest, your arms draped around the middle of his frame.
“Thank you for coming,” He quietly says, his hold on you subtly tightening as he lets out a deep breath.
You can barely hear the quiet whispers of those around you over the blood pounding in your ears, but you didn’t mind them anyways. Right now, all you wanted to focus on was the way his arms felt around you and the way his entire body seemed to relax under your touch. While physical touch with Luke wasn’t uncommon, it still gave you a small sense of hope that maybe everyone was right and maybe he did like you back after all.
“Jack, you might need somewhere to stay tonight,” You heard one of the other guys tease from behind him, making your face heat up as you stepped away from Luke. Though he doesn’t entirely break away from, keeping his arm slung across your shoulders as he turns to look at his teammates.
“Oh, I planned for it don’t worry,” He laughs as he shakes his head, “You picked a good first game to come to. Luke played his ass off.”
“I always do,” Luke quickly defended himself, his voice slightly raising and his posture straightening the smallest amount.
“Yeah, but you really did tonight,” Dawson pressed with a mischievous smile on his face.
“You guys are annoying,” Luke rolls his eyes, “I’m starving, so we are going to leave. I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”
Your gaze snaps up to Luke as he briefly looks down at you with his usual half smile, but the sound of Jack calling out to him briefly moves his attention back to his brother. You let your eyes fall back to the ground in front of you, your mind running a mile a minute as you try to ignore the way he’s slightly grazing the skin above your collarbone with his fingers. Your breath hitches in your throat, the skin involuntarily raising in wake of his touch as you try to keep yourself outwardly collected.
“Hey,” Luke’s voice breaks through the thin barrier keeping you composed, “You ready? I figured I’ll drive so you can put the chipotle order in and we can pick it up on our way back to my apartment. Is that okay?”
“Yeah, of course,” You breathe out, giving him a small smile.
The two of you bid goodbye to the others, but not before they could pass on teasing comments or not so subtle winks as you passed by them. Luke had dropped his arm from your shoulders, a small absent feeling settling over you when he did. He asked you if you ended up having a good time and if the girls were nice to you, which you, of course, told him that you did and the girls were extremely welcoming and kind.
When Luke had climbed into the driver’s seat, he fished his wallet out of his pocket and handed you his credit card with the subtle threat that if he didn’t see a charge on his card for the food that he would buy you the expensive hoodie you had looked at a few days ago. You rolled your eyes as you took his card, not knowing that he had already bought the hoodie anyway and was waiting to give it to you.
By the time the two of you had picked up your food and were back at his apartment, your nerves from earlier had almost entirely disappeared and things felt normal again. Before the two of you started eating, he went into his room to change, and he returned with a random pair of sweatpants you had forgotten you bought last week and a shirt you’re positive was his. He waited for you to come back before he started eating like he always did, but you couldn’t help but feel like the air surrounding you felt slightly off.
You couldn’t tell if you were overthinking things or if something really was wrong because you still felt that way when the two of you moved to the couch. Luke still sat in his usual spot directly next to you, but he was barely focusing on the movie. His eyes kept darting around the room and he was nervously chewing on his bottom lip. You wanted to ask him if he was okay, but you kept your eyes on the TV until he spoke up.
“Can I tell you something,” Luke nearly shouted, slightly startling you out of your spot on the couch, “Shit, sorry. I didn’t mean to yell. I just– I need to tell you something.”
Your eyes were wide and full of confusion, and slight panic, as you spoke, “Yeah, of course. You can tell me anything.”
You watched as he took a deep breath, slightly turning his body so he was facing you completely, and you couldn’t help but let an almost painful sense of worry envelope you. You were running over every possible scenario you could conjure in your mind, but they were all so negative that you had convinced yourself what he was going to say was too.
“This might screw everything up and if you never want to talk to me again, that’s fine, but I can’t ignore it anymore,” His voice was serious, yet thick with an emotion you refused to place, “After I scored tonight and all the guys were around me, all I could think about was you. Not even just you being there to see it, but celebrating with you. Seeing your smile. Hugging you. Kissing you.”
He said the last part so quietly that you almost didn’t hear him, but you did. Those two words rang in your ears as you looked at him, your mouth slightly dropped open as the ability to form a semi coherent thought in your mind suddenly fleeing. You wanted to respond, to tell him that it was all you could think about too, but your mouth and brain were far from cooperative.
Your silence was slowly suffocating Luke, and he quickly wishes he never said anything at all. To him, he knew it was a long shot that you felt the same way he did. Early in your friendship, you had let it slip that you weren't looking for a relationship and you wanted to focus on yourself. He knew that, but he couldn’t keep his feelings to himself anymore.
“I’m sorry,” He backtracks, shaking his head, “I shouldn’t have said anyth–”
You cut him off by surging forward and slamming your lips on his own, not trusting yourself to accurately say everything you felt. Luke’s reaction was almost instantaneous, his hands grabbing at your hips and pulling you onto his lip as he kisses you back. The metaphorical wall that had been keeping the two of you as friends crumbled beneath you as you pour everything you felt for him into one kiss.
His hands had moved to the small of your back, pulling you so close that there wasn’t even a millimeter of space separating you from him. Your hands were looped around his neck as your mouth moved against his own, and you couldn’t stop yourself from carefully grasping at his curls. Luke groaned against you, and he knew he had to stop before he took things too far on his living room couch.
He pulls away from you, his heavy breathing falling in sync with your own as he drops his head to your shoulder. You can feel his chest rise and fall against you as you attempt to gather your thoughts and tell yourself that this was real. That it actually happened and it wasn’t something you had dreamed up again, but you were suddenly shaken from your thoughts when Luke harshly snapped his head up to look at you.
“Wait, does this mean you like me back,” He asks, feigning a sense of seriousness, but you can see the smile threatening to shine through.
“You’re an idiot,” You playfully roll your eyes at him.
“Maybe, but I’m your idiot, ” He counters before his eyes slightly widen as he hesitantly continues, “Right?”
“Yeah,” You chuckle, a small smile decorating your face, “You are.”
The two of you spend the rest of the night wrapped up in the other, the movie halfway forgotten as you found yourself with your lips on his more often than not. You were selfishly thankful that Jack had been telling the truth when he said he found somewhere else to stay. The uninterrupted time you spent in Luke’s arms allowed you to truly soak it in. To relish in the fact that you had finally found someone who made you believe that love did exist, and you owed it all to one spilled coffee.
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Stuck like glue
Request: "I'm going to scream your domestic character joining coop on his travels from her cabin is SO good 😭 I was wondering if you would write something with the same character in her cabin when coop turns up from nearby having taken one too many bullets? Or maybe he's sick and needs some jet. Some hurt/comfort fluffy sweetness" A/N: Thank you to the awesome anon who sent the idea! Maybe not AS fluffy as we wanted, but there's for sure some soft Ghoul going on in here. And, oh yeah, the reader has a dog now. No description of said dog has been given, so please imagine as you'd wish. Tags: Fallout, Cooper Howard, Cooper Howard x F!Reader, Cooper Howard x You, Ghoul x Reader WARNINGS: Canon-Typical language and violence, brief mentions of sexual interaction. Summary: Your favorite Ghoul needs to be patched up after a spat with some Raiders, and you always know just how to make him feel better.
Word Count: 2.0k+
Gif credit to @elisefrost from this set
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You’re outside attempting to hang clothes to dry when you hear it. 
The soft but distinct sound of jingling metal comes from behind your cabin. You set one hand on the pistol strapped to your thigh and walk in that direction, eyes peeled for any movement. A bark echoes the sound from your porch, and you snap at your four-legged companion in an attempt to get him to stay. 
“Tiger!” You hiss. “Quit!”
 He relents with an indignant huff and returns to the porch, while the metallic noise keeps up in a steady pattern, akin to the cadence of a slow walk. You tilt your head at the thought and eventually move the hand off your pistol; only one person would dare tread this close in broad daylight with such carelessness.
“Coop?”
You don’t see him anywhere, but you’re almost certain it was the sounds of his old spurs that caught your attention. 
“Cooper if you’re tryna scare me, you know I'll gut you.” The threat is an empty one, but saying it gives you some hope that it’s indeed him and not a Raider or Slaver looking to score some loot. 
“No need, babydoll.” His voice sounds ragged, tired. “Don’t think I could scare a bunny rabbit at the moment.” 
You follow his voice to your left, and find the Ghoul leaned up against a tree. He’s practically swaying in the breeze, very apparently unsteady. You rush over just as he slides down and collides with the dirt.. 
“Cooper! What happened to you?” 
Your hands flutter up and down his arms, brusquely checking for any injuries. Nothing obvious jumps out at you, but he heals fast and external wounds are rare. A wheeze claws its way up his throat and morphs into a hacking cough. You recognize the sound as the need for a Vial, and grab at his bag. 
“Do you have any on you?” 
A stuttered cough answers. “Fresh out… s’why I came here.”
Your stash of Vials had been growing just about as long as you’d known Cooper. When you traveled together, he’d hand some off to you for safekeeping, and there always ended up being extras. Upon your return home, he’d tell you to keep them. It wasn’t shocking, given that he found his way back every couple of days.
“Alright, come on.” You crouch down and position yourself beneath Cooper’s arm. 
You can tell he’s weak by the way he leans into you, knees wobbling relentlessly as you pull him up. Another round of coughing wracks his body and you squeeze him reassuringly. 
“Couch isn’t far.” You chose your words carefully, avoiding any inkling of pity. Having an already deteriorating Ghoul is enough, let alone a defensive one who hates being pitied. 
Cooper does his best to keep up with your steps, but his movements are sloppy and uncoordinated. You can feel the heat radiating off of him through his jacket and hear him wheezing beside your ear. Stepping onto the porch gives him some trouble, but you manage to haul him up and inside the door. Tiger whines nervously, circling the pair of you as you trek inside. The Ghoul collapses onto the couch as soon as it’s within reach. 
After making sure Cooper’s not going to slide off the couch, you continue to the med-kit in your makeshift kitchen. The Vials are hidden at the very bottom, wrapped in cloth for extra cushion to prevent shattering. You decide there’s more than enough for him to take two, and carefully extract the mysterious chem. 
Cooper’s laid out on his back when you return with the Vials. One arm is thrown over his eyes and the other dangling off the side of the couch with Tiger perched beneath. The dog nuzzles his favorite person’s hand for attention, and it elicits a chuckle from you. Even as the only conscious person in the room, you were still second in Tiger’s eyes. 
“Coop.” You shake his shoulder gently. “Hey. Hey. Where’s your inhaler?”
You nudge his hat away and he blinks slowly. “Mmm.”
“Ok then.” You mutter and pat down his jacket, searching for the contraption he always carries. The coat yields no results, and you pat down his pants until you feel it tucked away into the pocket at his hip. “Finally.”
Cooper shuffles ever so slightly when you slip your hand into his pocket. “H-hey now. I know you love me, baby, but I-I ain’t got it in me right now.”
An errant smile pushes its way onto your lips. You snap the meds into place on his inhaler 
“Open up.”
He fails to heed your instructions, and you ultimately end up forcing the inhalant into his mouth. It never works instantly, but within a minute or so of administering it there’s movement. One of Cooper’s hands lifts to cup yours, puffing on the inhaler again. 
You release your hold on it and rock back onto the balls of your feet. It’s then you take note of the holes in his clothing, and run a hand down his chest. There’s numerous holes, some as big as your finger and others no larger than a pinhead. 
“Cooper, what happened to you?” You sit on the edge of the couch beside him as he takes his first deep breath without Chems. 
“I just turn’d in a bounty and some Raiders jumped me.” He looks down at your hand on his chest. “Bastards shot me ten or eleven times. Damn buckshot got me good.”
You nod. “I can tell. You were in a bad way, Coop.”
The Ghoul sits up slowly beside you so his legs can swing off the couch. “I’ll be good as new, soon as this stuff starts workin’ good.” 
Tiger hops up on the couch next to him, tail wagging with excitement. The dog licks your cheek on his way to Cooper and pushes his nose into the Ghoul’s shoulder. You chuckle at the interaction, patting the dog’s shoulders. Coopers are still hunched with exhaustion, and his deep-set eyes look even more so. 
“Well until they do, you rest.” You stand, glancing out the still-ajar door. “It’s getting dark anyway.”
Cooper, as usual, opens his mouth to protest. If there’s anything he hates, it’s feeling useless. 
“No arguments.” You point a finger at him. “I mean it.”
He grumbles, but relents. “Fine. Only if you turn somethin’ on that ol’ TV of yours.”
The television turns out to be a perfect method of relaxation. You have to remove Cooper from the couch temporarily, but wrestle it into the pullout bed form and line it with blankets. The Ghoul had given in to his exhaustion rather easily at the prospect of a comfortable bed and kicked off his boots to climb all the way in. You hung his coat on a nail by the door, but made sure to leave his guns, lasso, and assorted weapons within arm’s reach. The TV played some old soap opera from before your time while you snagged a couple of hard candies- a luxury item, as the nearest settlement called them- and made to settle in. 
Cooper had managed to prop himself against the back of the couch, feet kicked out down the length of the thin mattress. Tiger, seeking attention as per usual, is curled up against his right leg. A wet nose rests just beneath Cooper’s knee and twitches in interest when you unwrap the first candy. 
The Ghoul might as well be a dog himself for the way his ears perk at the sound of a wrapper. 
He watches intently as you very gracefully clamber to sit next to him. You pop the fruit-flavored candy in your mouth and scoot around until you find comfort. In this case, it’s leaned up against the Ghoul beside you, head dropping onto his shoulder. His breathing is still shallower than you’d like, but a vast improvement from where it was when he’d shown up. 
“You ain’t gonna share?” 
You open your fist and offer up one of the candies. “I suppose I could. But only for you.”
A smirk twists the corners of his scarred lips. You poke at the candies and attempt to read the labels to no avail. 
“I’d offer you a choice of flavor, but…” You shrug, looking back up to your Ghoul. “Slim pickings.”
He lifts a bare hand to your chin, tilting up. “I think the pickin’s are just fine.”
You smile and lean in to meet him, lips falling into a familiar dance.The hand on your chin slides down to grip your nape and holds you firmly in place. It’s not long before the candy is gone from your mouth. Its remnants remain, mingling with the taste of gunpowder and smoke. A few moments pass before you decide to separate
“Miss me much?” You inquire, cuddling yourself down into his side. 
His arm raises to accommodate your body and lowers it back down to encircle your shoulders once you’re settled. “I always miss you darlin’. For a variety of reasons.”
You hum softly, “Yeah? Why’s that?”
Cooper’s hand trails up and down your arm, leaving wide trails of gooseflesh. “Well, the main one happens to be the lack of entertainment.”
You scoff. “I’m your entertainment?”
“Fuck yeah, you are. ‘Specially when you’re hollerin’ at scavengers and shootin’ anything that moves.” The Ghoul chuckles to himself. “Or trippin’ over a sleeping yao guai.”
You shove him playfully. “That was one time, and I shot it dead anyway.”
Cooper pulls you towards him, and you shift until you’re between his legs, chest pressed against his back. “That you did, sweetheart. I ain’t forgot.”
He grabs the nearest blanket and tosses it over your entangled bodies. You curl to the side and rest your cheek to his chest. Tiger shuffles his body with a huff, apparently frustrated with the lack of attention.
“What would you do without me?” You tap his chest gently, relishing in the warmth he produces. “Other than get eaten by a yao guai?”
The Ghoul scratches Tiger’s head. “Prolly go feral. Chase around some folk to scare em’.”
You know he’s joking, but the thought of losing him to ferality scares you to no end. Particularly since he’s just shown up on death’s door and almost hacked a lung onto your floor.
“Don’t say that.” You lift your head to catch his eye. “Please.”
Cooper may be a gruff old Ghoul with a dreadful outlook on the world, but he softens ever so slightly at your words.
“You know I don’t mean it, sugar. You’re stuck with me, whether you like it or not.”
Two scarred fingers hook beneath your jaw and pull you back up to his lips. It’s tame at first, but the Cooper you know wastes no time making an appearance. His teeth nip at your lip gently and one rough hand slides up your side until it cups your breast. You press into him eagerly, climbing upwards until your thighs slot around either side of his hips. He responds by grinding them into you, delicious friction warming you from head to toe.  
Tiger decides he’s disgusted at this point, and hops off the couch with a comical groan.
Unbothered, one of your hands latches onto the lasso that is tossed on top of his pile of weapons. You loop it around his neck, gripping either side of the rope and pulling him in. Cooper smirks against your mouth. 
“Oh I love being stuck with you, Cowpoke.” You whisper against his mouth, earning yourself a quick bite to the bottom lip.
The Ghoul grins and quickly shows how much strength he’s regained by reversing your positions. He snatches the rope faster than you can react, and wraps the fingers of one hand loosely around the column of your throat. There’s just enough pressure to shoot a pang of arousal between your legs. Cooper knows you’re squirming, and presses a knee there to relieve some of the ache. 
“Glad t’hear it.” He murmurs into your neck, “‘Cause I sure as hell ain’t goin’ nowhere.”
And you wouldn’t have it any other way.
-------------------
thanks for reading, much love ❤
Read More: Fallout Masterlist
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Flavors of Fate (Max Verstappen x Female Reader)
Genre: Fluff Word count: 3,1k
Recently laid-off chef, Y/N, unexpectedly meets F1 racer Max Verstappen during a late night beer run. As Heinekens flow and culinary tales are exchanged, sparks ignite in the most unexpected of places. But just when Y/N thinks life can't get any more surprising, Max presents her with a proposition of a lifetime.
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In the bustling heart of Monte Carlo, the rich aroma of sizzling spices and savory meats permeated the air, mingling with the lively chatter of diners and the rhythmic clinking of silverware. Y/N, a spirited chef, commanded the kitchen of “Casa del Sazón,” one of the city's trendiest Mexican restaurants. However, her world was about to be turned upside down.
It was supposed to be like any other night, certainly a pretty average day at first. Y/N navigates the controlled chaos with finesse, her apron adorned with the vibrant colors of her culinary creations. Suddenly, her boss strides into the kitchen with a grave expression etched upon his face. “Y/N, can I have a word?”
Y/N pauses mid-stir, concerned at the serious tone in her boss's voice. “Sure, what's up?”
She saw him taking a deep breath before continuing, “I'm afraid I have some bad news. Due to financial constraints, we have to make some cutbacks, and unfortunately, your position is one of them.”
Y/N's heart sinks as the weight of his words settle upon her. This kitchen had been her sanctuary, her canvas, where she painted with flavors and spices, infusing each dish with her passion for Mexican cuisine.
Her lips curl into a disbelieving scoff. “You must be joking,” she mutters, her voice tinged with a mixture of bewilderment and frustration. “I mean, seriously? I'm the backbone of this kitchen!”
With a swift motion, she reaches out to turn off the stove, the flames extinguishing under her command as if echoing her simmering anger.
Her boss's demeanor softens with empathy, his expression reflecting the weight of the situation. “I know this is hard to hear, Y/N,” he begins, his voice carrying the burden of the decision he's been forced to make. “But in times like these, tough decisions have to be made for the survival of the business.”
Y/N's eyes narrow in response, she meets his gaze with a steely resolve. “Survival of the business, huh?” she retorts, her tone laced with sarcasm. “Well, good luck surviving without me, then.”
She folds her arms across her chest, a defiant stance against the unfairness of it all. “Just remember,” she adds, her voice dripping with sass, “when this place goes down in flames without me, don't come crawling back asking for my recipes. You'll have to figure out how to make your own mediocre tacos.”
Y/N's hands move with purpose as she swiftly gathers her belongings, her apron discarded with a frustrated toss onto the nearest countertop. The once vibrant kitchen now hums with tension, the air thick with the weight of impending change as the other kitchen staffs glance nervously at each other.
As Y/N moves to leave, her boss, panic evident in his voice, steps forward in a desperate attempt to salvage what remains of the evening's service. “Y/N, can't you just finish your shift tonight? It's just one last night,” he pleads, his eyes beseeching her to reconsider.
Y/N halts in her tracks, her gaze locking onto his. “Oh, hell no,” she replies, her voice dripping with venom. “I've had enough of this circus. I'm out.”
With a dismissive wave, she brushes past him, her footsteps echoing against the tiled floor as she makes her exit. The boss's pleas fall on deaf ears as she strides out of the kitchen, leaving behind a wake of uncertainty and a boss grappling with the consequences of his decisions.
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Y/N storms out of the restaurant, her frustration visible with each brisk step she takes. Swearing a colorful string of curses under her breath, she heads straight for her regular liquor store. She definitely wants to forget what just happened. And nothing makes her happier than some good beers.
As she enters, the familiar jingle of the bell announces her arrival, chiming merrily in contrast to her sour mood. She’s met with the welcoming smile of Shay, the cashier she's come to know all too well from her frequent beer runs.
“Gimme all the beer you got,” Y/N grumbles, her tone laced with frustration.
Shay chuckles knowingly, leaning against the counter with a sympathetic look. “Rough day, huh? Sorry, hon, but we're fresh out of Heineken.”
Y/N's shoulders slump in disappointment, but Shay's next words lifted her spirit immediately. “But hey, there's another store just down the road that might have what you're looking for. They always keep a good stock of imported beers.”
Y/N's face lights up, relief washing over her. “You're a lifesaver, Shay!” She then blew her a kiss before looking for that store that Shay mentioned.
__________________________________________
Max reaches for the last pack of Heineken, his fingers closing around the cool, familiar shape of the bottles. It's been a long day at the Energy Station, and he's been looking forward to a quiet night in, just him and a cold beer.
As he makes his way towards the cashier, his thoughts already drifting to the comfort of his couch, a woman bursts into the store, her hurried steps echoing through the quiet aisles. She makes a beeline for the cashier, her urgency unmistakable. Max pauses, his curiosity piqued by the sudden commotion. He watches as the woman and the cashier exchange words, their conversation animated and lively, a stark contrast to the tranquility he had anticipated for his evening.
“Apologies, ma'am,” the cashier offers with a sympathetic smile, “—but it appears the last pack has already found a home with that gentleman over there,” he explains, gesturing discreetly towards Max.
He watched her groans in frustration, running a hand through her hair as she tries to come to terms with her string of bad luck. “Seriously? Is there nowhere in this city that has what I'm looking for?” she laments, her voice tinged with exasperation.
Observing the woman's defeated demeanor, Max pieces together her quest for Heinekens. He watches as she wearily settles into an empty chair in the seating area, He can't help but feel a pang of empathy for her obvious disappointment.
After paying for his beers, Max makes a spontaneous decision. With a determined stride, he approaches the woman, a gentle smile playing on his lips.
__________________________________________
The soft glow of overhead lights casts a warm ambiance over the store, lending an air of intimacy to the otherwise mundane surroundings. Y/N sits slumped in her seat, her shoulders sagging, gaze fixed on the floor as she tries to shake off the frustration of her failed beer hunt.
Just as she resigns herself to her fate, a voice breaks through the silence, pulling her from her thoughts. Startled, she looks up to find none other than Max Verstappen standing before her, a friendly smile gracing his features.
“Hey there,” Max greets her, his tone warm and inviting. “I couldn't help but overheard you were in need of some Heinekens. Mind if I share mine with you?” He says, motioning to his pack.
Y/N blinks in surprise, her eyes widening as she recognizes the famous Formula 1 driver standing before her. She can hardly believe her luck as she nods eagerly, a grateful smile spreading across her face.
“Wow, I-I mean, sure! That would be amazing,” she stammers, her cheeks flushing with a mix of disbelief and excitement. “Are you positive? I don’t want to impose.”
Max waves off any notion of inconvenience with a casual shrug, his easygoing demeanor putting Y/N at ease. “Nah, it's no trouble at all. I know how it feels to crave a nice beer,” he reassures her with another grin, genuinely happy to lend a hand.
Taking a seat across from her, Max settles in comfortably, his posture relaxed as he leans back in his chair. The atmosphere around them seems to shift.
With a smooth motion, Max reaches into the pack, retrieving a cold bottle of Heineken and sliding it across the table to Y/N. Her eyes follow his every movement.
As they both crack open their drinks, the sound fills the air with a satisfying echo. Y/N takes a long sip, relishing the refreshing taste of the beer as she savors the moment.
Max then fixed his gaze on Y/N with interest. “So, what's the deal with you?” he asks casually. As if speaking to an old friend.
Y/N chuckles softly, a playful glint dancing in her eyes as she considers his question. “Well, where do I even begin?” she replies, her voice tinged with amusement. “Let's just say today has been a shitshow for me.”
Max's laughter fills the air, a genuine expression of amusement at Y/N's blunt response. Slapping his knees with a grin, he nods in appreciation, recognizing a kindred spirit in her straightforwardness. “I like your style,” he remarks with a chuckle. “I'm a straightforward person myself.”
As he twirls the bottle in his hand, Max leans in with fresh interest, his eyes glued on Y/N as he beckons her to share more about her day. “Yeah, tell me more about it,” he encourages, his tone inviting. “I'm all ears.”
Y/N takes a long, satisfying sip of her beer before launching into her tale. With a sassy tilt of her head, she re-meets Max's gaze head-on. “I'm a chef, you see. Or, well, I was a chef before my boss decided to give me the boot a few hours ago," she explains.
“No way," Max exclaims, his eyes widening in disbelief. “You? Fired? I can't believe it!”
Max point his bottle at you, “I mean, look at you! You've got 'chef' written all over you! I'll admit I myself can barely cook a decent omelette without setting off the smoke alarm. My kitchen skills are sadly nonexistent.”
Y/N raises an eyebrow, her expression playful yet pointed, “Are you one of those dudes who thinks that cooking is just for women?”
Max feigns offense, clutching his heart dramatically. “No, no, no! It's not like that at all,” he protests, his tone exaggeratedly wounded. “I just... I've always been more of an expert in the fine art of ordering takeout,” he admits with a sheepish grin.
Y/N can't help but tease, her tone dripping with playful sarcasm. “Ah, so the kitchen gossip about the Dutch thinking of eating as a chore because their food is sadly unseasoned is true then, huh?”
Max's eyes widen in mock indignation, his hands flying up in protest. “Hey now, that's not fair!” he exclaims, his defense genuine but laced with humor. “We have some amazing dishes back home! It's just... a different flavor profile,” he insists, though the twinkle in his eye betrays his amusement.
Y/N chuckles softly, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she playfully reassures him, “Oh, don't take it to heart. I'm just teasing.”
Max grins back before noticing that they’ve both finished their drinks. With a practiced motion, he reaches for another bottle, popping it open with practiced ease and sliding it across the table to Y/N. She tilted her head, signaling her thanks.
They enjoyed a minute of comfortable silence before he speaks again, “So, where did you work as a chef?”
Her expression thoughtful as she considers his question. “I used to work at Casa del Sazón,” she replied. “I’m sure you’re familiar with it.”
Max nearly sputters out his drink, his eyes widening in a manner that is almost comical. “Ain't no way!” he exclaims, genuinely surprised by the coincidence. “I'm a regular there! The food is crazy good!”.
Y/N's eyebrows shoot up in surprise, her lips curling into a pleased smile at Max's enthusiastic endorsement. “Well, fancy meeting one of my regulars here.” she exclaims as she throw him a wink.
Max can't help but sing praises for the food, mentioning several of his favorite dishes with childlike enthusiasm. “Seriously, your enchiladas are out of this world,” he declares, his eyes lighting up. “And don't even get me started on the carne asada tacos–it’s like sex on the mouth.”
Y/N's smile grew with each glowing review that Max threw her way, her pride in her culinary creations evident in every word he speaks. “I'm thrilled to hear that you enjoy my cooking that much,” she replies.
As Max raises his hand in a playful salute, Y/N can't help but chuckle at the gesture. “Well, it's an honor to meet the person behind it all,” he says, his tone sincere as he acknowledges Y/N's talent.
Max's keen observation doesn't miss the subtle shift in Y/N's demeanor, despite her attempts to mask her sadness. He notices the flicker of melancholy that crosses her face, a shadow cast over her previously lively demeanor.
Concern creases Max's brow as he watches Y/N's mood darken, his own heart going out to her. With a gentle touch, he reaches out to lay a reassuring hand on her arm, silently offering his support.
Surprised by Max's comforting gesture, Y/N hesitates before tentatively laying her hand on top of his, half expecting him to pull away. Instead, he surprises her by squeezing her hand back gently, his touch warm and reassuring.
Feeling a sense of comfort wash over her, Y/N opens up. “Sorry for souring the mood—“, but before she can finish her sentence, Max cuts her off with a gentle shake of his head.
“There's no need to apologize,” he reassures her, his voice soft but firm. “Your reaction is completely normal, Y/N. It's not healthy to ignore what you're feeling.”
Y/N offers a grateful smile, touched by Max's kindness. “Thank you for being here with me, Max,” she says sincerely. “I'm sure you had other plans before I came crashing in.”
Max's response is immediate, his smile bright. “Ahh no worries at all. Honestly, this unexpected turn of events has been a pleasant surprise,” he replies.
Y/N's eyes flick to the clock on the wall, her eyebrows shooting up in surprise as she realizes the lateness of the hour. “Wow, it's already 2 am,” she remarks.
She then turns to Max, a sheepish smile playing on her lips. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I think it's probably time for us to call it a night,” she says, her tone apologetic. “We've been here longer than I realized.”
Max's own surprise mirrors Y/N's, his eyes widening in realization as he takes in the late hour. A smile tugs at his lips as he considers the passing of time, a testament to the genuine enjoyment he's found in your company.
“Shit, you're right,” he agrees, his tone filled with slight amazement. “I can't believe how quickly the time flew by. I guess that just goes to show how much I've enjoyed talking to you.”
Y/N's cheeks flush with embarrassment at Max's admission, but she can't hide the glee in her smile. “I, uh, I enjoyed talking to you too,” she admits.
As Max and Y/N stand up, a sense of reluctance hangs in the air, a silent acknowledgment of the inevitable end to their impromptu evening together. With a shared sigh, they make their way towards the door, their steps in sync as they exit the store together.
Once outside, the cool night air envelops them, a gentle reminder of the world waiting beyond the confines of their shared moment. Max offers a small smile as he turns to Y/N, his gesture a silent offer of assistance.
“Can I help you find a cab?” he asks, his tone gentle. “I want to make sure you get home safely.”
Y/N shot him a grateful smile as she accepts his offer. “That would be great, thank you.”
As Max reaches for his phone, ready to call a cab, his movements falter as his gaze meets Y/N's once more. There's a flicker of determination in his eyes as he speaks, his voice steady despite the sudden shift in the conversation.
“I must ask you this,” he begins, his words measured. With a deep breath, he takes the plunge, offering Y/N an unexpected proposition.
“I know it's a bit different from your previous job, but... would you consider being my private chef?” he asks, his tone earnest as he lays his cards on the table. “I want to test the waters and see if we can make it work.”
The air around them crackles with anticipation as Max waits for Y/N's response, his heart pounding with a mixture of nerves and hope. He knows it's a bold move, but something about Y/N's presence fills him with a sense of certainty. The fact that her specialty happens to be his favorite cuisine is also a huge bonus.
Y/N's eyes widen in surprise at Max's unexpected offer, her heart skipping a beat as she takes in the magnitude of his gesture.
“Max, thank you,” she breathes out. Without hesitation, she wraps her arms around him in a tight embrace, her heart overflowing with emotions.
Caught off guard by Y/N's sudden hug, Max feels his cheeks flush a deep shade of maroon. He tries his best to hide it, but the pounding of his heart is so loud, he's certain that even Y/N could feel it reverberating against his chest.
As Max feels Y/N's embrace, a sense of contentment washes over him, enveloping him whole. Lost in the moment, he finds himself unconsciously pulling her even closer, savoring the feeling of her in his arms. In that fleeting instant, Max realizes just how nice it feels to be hugged by her and how he would very much like to repeat this over and over.
When Y/N pulls away, Max can't help but feel a pang of loss at the sudden absence of her warmth. He finds himself craving more of the contact, a yearning stirring within him as he reluctantly lets her go.
Max's heart skips a beat when she asks him to put his number on her phone, his lips curling into a loopy smile. “Sure,” he replies eagerly, his fingers dancing over her phone as he quickly adds his contact information and hands it back to her.
As their fingers brush against each other in the exchange, Max can't shake the electric thrill that courses through him, a silent promise of the possibilities that lie ahead.
“I’ll ring you up tomorrow.” She said, bringing another shit-eating grin to Max's face.
“I'll hold you to that,” his tone mock threatening as he pretends to wag his finger at her. “And don't forget, I have a particular set of skills. I will track you down if I have to. Monaco is not a big country.”
Y/N lets out a laugh as she playfully rolls her eyes at Max's faux threat. “Your wish is my command,” she replies, her voice filled with mock obedience. “As long as there's another session of beers with a side of Max Verstappen, of course.”
“Deal,” he shots back, eyes dancing with mischief. “You can have it however you want, so long as you keep feeding me with good food. I am a man of simple pleasure, Y/N.”
“That I can do Max, that I can do.”
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leviismybby · 1 day
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Young thug Levi being your baby daddy? He makes sure that you and the baby always get what you need, he never wants you to end up in a situation like his mother so he provides for you and your daughter. When he goes above ground, he comes back for you two and assures that you are safe in the walls. This causes an argument between you two especially because Levi still refuses to be with you despite everything.
After that argument, you two don't talk for a few years, you co parent with him and Levi always makes time for his daughter, he keeps that part of his life a secret. Its when Levi learns that you found someone new, he starts getting salty. One time he comes over while your daughter is at daycare, his eyes piercing through you. "What? You think that man can be a decent husband?" You roll your eyes at his bitter tone. "He is just a guy I know. We aren't together and it's none of your business even if we were." Levi gets a little angry at that. "None of my fucking business? You're the mother of my child. It's all my business."
It isn't long that he has your arms pinned above your head, his cock pouding ypu deeply. Your moans make him go even more crazy, he missed you. "Yeah? Can he fuck you like this huh?" He grabs your jaw making you look at him as he fucks you faster, his hands holding your hips firmly. "You feel so fucking good, baby." When he feels your pussy clench around his length, he presses his hand on your clit, applying pressure and you cum around him, eyes rolling back, your nails digging into his back. Levi fucks you for a little longer, his orgasm approaching. He cums inside of you, kissing you sloppily on the lips.
After that day, he comes to you see you more often and it's no surprise that a few months later, your belly is swollen with his child again.
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amourane · 2 days
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hate the way you smile
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pairing: theodore nott x fem!reader
genre: fluff, angst, comedy, e2l + childhood enemies??
w/c: 4.7k
summary: from the second you met theodore nott you knew that your life would be torturous and that the boy would never leave you alone but maybe forever isn't so bad with theodore nott.
warnings: none just a lot of bickering
a/n: omg this one is a bit long but i finished it!
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From the moment that you met Theodore Nott at the bright age of five you knew you would hate him forever. Maybe it was the way he would sneer at you with distaste or the way he would mock you for being a big crybaby whenever he took your toys. All you knew was that you simply loathed his presence.
Your families had been friends and they had initially thought that you and Theo would get along since you were both the same age. What they didn’t expect was the young boy to rip the heads of your dolls and proceed to mock you for crying your heart out. Yet even with all of your constant bickering your families still met up every holiday, bringing the demon child with them to torment your life.
Since that day your childhood was filled with cruel laughter and the mischievous eyes that would watch wherever you went.  At age seven, Theodore Nott found it appropriate to fill your bathtub with toads causing you to shriek out in terror when you opened the bathroom door, and him, to run away with glee at your horrified face. At age nine, he thought it would’ve been funny to surprise you by dumping a bucket load of pumpkin juice all over you and he cackled at your expected screams of anger. What he didn’t expect was for you to retaliate by smashing a tray of cauldron cakes into his face. 
Needless to say the war between you two started way back then and it had continued, the only difference being that now you both were more mature and civilised and there was no room for childish pranks.
“Suck my cock you mangled prat, I hope you trip and fall to your death you insignificant shit goblin!” 
At least so you thought.
You made a move and lunged for Theodore Nott’s throat as anger flared in your eyes. No one paid mind to the scene that was unfolding before them afterall it was a common occurrence for the last six years. 
“You enchanted my hair green!” You shrieked as you shook the brunette violently. “Are you out of your mind Nott? I thought we agreed we wouldn’t mess with each other’s appearances, what happened to that?” 
Theodore simply smirked and you felt your fury bubble inside you. He tilted his head to the right and acted as if he was actually pondering your question. If you could you would have been breathing flames as you felt yourself grow more livid as every second went by. 
“Hmm…I like your hair L/n, really suits the whole vibe you’re going for, don't you think bella?” Theo flashed you a wicked grin as he reached out to twirl a lock of your hair between his fingers. You slapped his hand away.
“And what vibe am I going for Nott? Please enlighten me since you apparently are the one making decisions for me.”
You should’ve just walked away. You really should’ve just cursed him out and gone to Madam Pomfrey for some sort of remedy instead of staying and entertaining whatever shit-faced idea he had come up with. The moment you saw the smug smirk that spread across his face and the dangerous twinkle in his eyes you knew he was going to spew some absolute bullshit. And you were right.
“Well obviously it’s a statement declaring that you’re mine, why else would you dye your hair to match my house?” The Slythering feigned disbelief, clutching his hands to his chest innocently. “But Salazar, I didn’t know you would be so bold about your feelings towards me bella.”
You felt heat rise and settle on your cheeks as you tried to come up with a colourful comeback to wipe the stupid smirk off his face but the words die in your throat. It was against your will but you could feel your face growing hotter as he continued to stare at you with that flirty glint in his eyes. Your brain spluttered to a stop and you scrambled desperately for something to say.
“Fuck you Nott.” You seethed before storming away with your hands balled into fists. You could hear the whispers of students and you could feel their stares as you stomped to the infirmary, determined to find some way to get your hair back to normal. 
Theodore Nott was the biggest pain in the arse you knew and he had never stopped being one. You still remembered when you had received your letter to Hogwarts and he had scoffed at the sight asking why Hogwarts would want a half-wit like you. Needless to say your parents weren’t surprised at the cries that erupted a second later from both you and him.
Throughout your years the two of you had become known for the obvious tension and pure hatred you harboured for each other though it did seem to lean on your side a bit more than it did to his. It had been the same for the first three years, bickering, pranks and whatnot. Then fourth year came and the scrawny boy you once knew had magically grown much taller and his face had lost a lot of the baby fat it once had. All at once Theodore Nott became one of the most sought after boys in Hogwarts and it only made you loathe him more. It made his ego triple in size and it made him much more flirty towards everyone but you seemed to be his number one target. All you wanted to do was to take your wand and puncture that bloated head of his.
Though his appearance changed he still was the boy you knew since you were a child and whenever he smiled you could see the same boyish grin he had way back when he was five. He had always been the same but now he just had a much more pretty face to disguise the fact he was a blithering idiot.
Theo watched as you stormed off, his smile never once leaving his face. He loved to mess with you purely to see the visceral anger that radiated off you every single time. The way you would try to stare him down but the action proved useless as he was much taller allowing him to simply look down smugly. It amused him to see how your reactions never changed. 
Ever since you were five you held the same expressions: whenever you were mildly irritated by him you would chew on your bottom lip, whenever you were pissed your eyes would double in size and you’d look like a fire-breathing dragon, and whenever he made you upset you would stare blankly without a word. He’d only ever made you truly upset once and when seeing your face he knew he would never do it again because even if the two of you bickered and fought he would never hurt you.
“Sometimes I think you’re secretly dating because you should see the way you’re daydreaming hopelessly while staring at L/n’s retreating figure Nott, you look like a bloody imbecile.” Draco slapped Theo’s back startling him out of his own thoughts. He scoffed after realising what his friend was implying.
“Oh Salazar’s balls I think I’m going to regurgitate my breakfast. You’ve gone insane if you even think for a second there’s a chance I fancy that creature.”
Laughter erupted from his friends and they continued to mock and tease him obviously not being mature enough to handle the situation with grace.
“I would rather shag the giant squid than date L/n and I’m sure the feeling is mutual.”
Mattheo hummed to himself and smirked. He placed his arm on Theo’s shoulder. “Well then can I ask her out? She’s real hot and I think she’d be interested.”
“L/n might be stupid Riddle but she wouldn’t ever go out with you or even give you the time of day. So don’t even think about doing it.” And with that he left and his friends exchanged knowing glances before bursting into another fit of laughter at their friend’s own obliviousness.
//
This was so not your day. 
Never in your life had you forgotten to hand in homework yet one silly slip up had cost you to spend your free afternoon in detention. It wasn’t your fault you had mixed up the dates on when the transfiguration homework was due. 
You begrudgingly opened the classroom doors, finding a seat to sit down for the next hour. At least you were able to catch up on some other classes while you were in detention otherwise you thought you would’ve gone mad. You looked around the classroom save for Professor McGonagall who had already greeted you when you walked in there was no one else there. 
It hadn’t even been a minute when the doors burst open to reveal a very tall and very smug Slytherin.
“Mr Nott, glad for you to join us, find a seat please.”
Theo's grin faltered as his eyes locked onto yours, a flicker of confusion dancing across his features before it was swiftly replaced by his trademark smirk. He made his way toward you, closing the distance until there were mere centimetres separating you from him.
“Now L/n, Nott, I have important business to tend to so I assume the both of you are mature enough to sit through this detention. I hope that I don’t hear about any incidents when I am gone.”
It was as if your nightmare had all of a sudden come to life as you watched McGonagall leave the classroom. You tried to protest but it fell upon deaf ears as the professor had already left the room, leaving you stuck with your nemesis.
You whipped your head to face the brunette, irritation flashing in your eyes. Why had he chosen to sit next to you when there were plenty of other seats available? The classroom was far from crowded, yet here he was, invading your personal space with his mere presence
“Why are you sitting next to me Nott?”
“Why can’t I? Do you happen to own every seat in this classroom?” He teased. “I didn’t think you did, so I’m going to sit where I want.”
You grumbled under your breath at his stubbornness, getting up to pack your things. “Fine, but then I’m moving.”
Before you could make your move, Theo reached out and grabbed your arm. “Hey slow down, I have a perfect seat right here.” Your irritation flared at his audacity, and you shot him a scathing glare as he gestured to his lap with a smug smirk. “Why don’t you-”
“Nott, if you seriously propose that I sit in your lap I will hex you to oblivion.”
“Okay!” Theo held his hands up in mock surrender, his expression feigning innocence as he cocked his head to the side, the smirk never once leaving his face. “Stay here, I won’t bother you, I swear.”
You eyed him cautiously, your scepticism evident. You weighed the options before you reluctantly sat back down. “Fine.”
A quiet hush befell the classroom and all that could be heard was the scratching of quills on parchment. That is until you were interrupted by a persistent poking sensation that disrupted your concentration, each jab of the quill more annoying than the last. You clenched your jaw as you tried to ignore Theo but you knew he wouldn’t stop until you gave him attention and there was no way you were giving him the satisfaction of reacting. So he continued to poke and poke and poke. 
His incessant poking finally pushed you over the edge, prompting a sharp hiss of irritation from your lips. "What?" You snapped, unable to contain your frustration any longer.
“What are you doing here?” 
If there was a competition for incompetence Theodore Nott would sure have won first place.
“Detention obviously.”
“Oh you know what I meant, why are you in detention? Did you do something stupid? Wait, you do that all the time I forgot.” You rolled your eyes, resisting the urge to roll them right out of your skull. "Tell me, bella," He continued, his voice laced with faux innocence. "I don't bite."
“Forgot my homework.” You reluctantly mumbled under your breath, feeling all too claustrophobic at how close he was to you. “Not that big of a deal.”
“Oh but it is.”
“What does that even mean, Nott?” Your eyes narrowed. Theo’s face twisted into a playful smirk and he was so close that you could practically hear his heart beating.
He chuckled, undeterred by your hostility. "But it's not like you to forget your homework," He teased, leaning in closer. "There must be something distracting you. Perhaps... thoughts of me?"
As if on instinct your hands reached out to push the unbearable boy away from you and you immediately got up at his incredulous words. You saw the way laughter bubbled and slipped from his lips, mocking you which only added more fuel to the evergrowing fire.
"In your dreams, Nott," You retorted, your voice laced with venom as you rose from your seat, your movements quick and determined. "I would sooner volunteer for a Dementor's kiss than waste a single thought on you."
Theo’s smirk only widened and his eyes gleamed with mischief. "Oh, believe me, the feeling is mutual," He quipped, his voice dripping with amusement as he rested his chin on his palms, his gaze never wavering from yours.
You huffed out an angry breath before picking your stuff up and stalking to the opposite end of the classroom. Luckily, he didn’t follow and you were left in peace for the rest of the detention.
//
It had been a week and a half since your detention yet Theodore Nott hadn’t approached you once since. In fact, you hadn’t seen him around school a lot, not that you were paying attention of course. It was just weird. Usually his face would pop up in front of you multiple times a day yet he was nowhere to be found. You had even lingered around the Slytherin table at lunch to see if he would show up but he never did. 
There was this sick feeling in the pit of your stomach. Even though you did despise Theo you had known him since he was a kid and he never was one to skip lessons much less disappear for over a week. Even his Slytherin friends didn’t know where he went.
That is until today. The moment you had walked into the dungeons ready for your Potions lesson you spotted him. There was a part of you that hoped you would see him today, after all he was your Potions partner. But there was something wrong. His face looked gaunt, pale, sapped of life and his eyes were merely blank as he sat unmoving. His usual demeanour was replaced with one of hollow emptiness.
“Where have you been Nott?” No response. You frowned as you looked at him, he seemed to not even hear you. “Nott? Have you suddenly become deaf?”
“It’s none of your business.” He snapped voice obviously laced with malice as the words cut through the air. The sharpness of his tone caught you off guard, a twinge of hurt gnawing at the edges of your consciousness despite the fact you both had said worse to each other.
You chose to ignore the fact that Theo was obviously in a sour mood and sat down beside him, unpacking your things. There was nothing special about the lesson, nothing that you needed to particularly pay attention to. Not that you did since you were too focused on trying to figure out what was wrong with your partner. Theo didn’t look okay, not in the slightest. He seemed exhausted and his sluggish movements proved you correct as he diced the various ingredients. 
You were in the middle of stirring the cauldron when Theo dropped a dandelion root in the mixture causing it to bubble and spit. The concoction spilled onto your hand and you shrieked at the sudden burning sensation that seemed to consume your hand in flames. The sensation is unbearable, a sharp, burning agony that seems to penetrate deep into your very bones. By now the whole class had stopped to look at you not fully registering what had happened. You turned to Theo, tears threatening to fall from your eyes at the pain but he stood there frozen, an expression you couldn’t decipher on his face.
“Theo-”
"Fucking hell, L/n." He spat, his voice dripping with disdain. "Would it kill you to not be such a clumsy moron? You could've hurt me as well. How can you even call yourself a witch?"
His words were sharp and spiteful. Through the many years of knowing Theodore Nott he had never blamed you for something he did. He might have been an incorrigible prick but he would still apologise if he had ever hurt you genuinely. But as you looked at him you couldn’t recognise the cold harsh look he gave you and you bit back your tears. You wouldn’t cry in front of him. 
Despite the fact your hand was in pain you felt something tighten around your chest and it made the air around you feel thick as if you couldn’t breathe. You stood up angrily, opening your mouth to snap back but your vision starts to fade, black spots invade your senses and that was the last thing you remember before you tumbled to the floor.
You woke up a few hours later as you felt the sun shine on your face. You blinked, disorientated, as you tried to get used to your surroundings. The familiar walls of the infirmary materialised and you felt some ease at knowing where you were. Confusion still gnawed at your mind as you struggled to piece together what had happened. How had you ended up in the infirmary? And why did everything feel so hazy, as if viewed through a foggy lens? 
Your gaze drifted to your hand, the source of the searing pain. And there, wrapped in a pristine white bandage, lay the answer to at least one of your questions. The memory flooded back in fragments, disjointed and incomplete.
Theo's careless mistake, the scalding mixture splattering across your skin, the sharp cry of pain that had torn through the air, all of it came rushing back with startling clarity.
“Miss L/n you’re awake!” Madam Pomfrey’s voice cut through your thoughts and you saw the woman make her way towards you hurriedly. “That was a terrible burn you had, lucky I had some burn-healing paste on me otherwise you would have had an ugly scar.”
You were still a bit dazed, trying to piece together how you even managed to make your way here. You distinctively remembered collapsing to the floor but that was where your memory stopped and it refused to give you any more.
“Sorry Madam Pomfrey but do you know how I got here? I really can’t seem to remember.”
“Oh dear.” The nurse frowned at your condition. “Mr Nott brought you here. He’s been here the whole afternoon. He's only just popped to dinner. I'm sure he’ll be back. Merlin, the boy did look worried.”
You resisted the urge to scoff at her words. Theodore Nott, worried. Not a chance. He probably only brought you here because Slughorn insisted, and he couldn't risk getting on the professor's bad side. No, you highly doubted he cared about what had happened to you.
The memory of his harsh words repeated in your head like an echo that refused to go away, a reminder of his indifference to your situation. And yet, despite your efforts to brush it off, a bitter laugh escaped your lips. Why were you even upset? After all, the two of you were experts at hurling mean insults at each other. It was practically a pastime. 
Rather you should have been mad at the fact he was the one who caused you to get this injury anyway. If it wasn’t for his stupid mistake you wouldn’t be in this predicament. Then again, you remembered his movements, how his usual nimble fingers were fumbling the ingredients, how he stared at the pages of his book as though they were in a foreign language. Something wasn’t right.
“You’re awake.”
The words startled you and you spotted the Slytherin boy approaching your bed as his face held the same blank expression as before. He sat down beside you and your eyes narrowed. You shuffled away, not wanting to be near him.
“I’m sorry.” He murmured quietly and the words caught you off guard. “These past few days just haven’t been the best and-”
“That’s your excuse?” You bristled at his pathetic apology, hoping that you had misheard what he had said. “You mess up our potion resulting in me getting hurt and then hurl insults my way trying to blame me for what happened. And you think simply saying ‘I’m sorry’ is enough? Using the excuse of having a few bad days as your way out?”
He stayed silent allowing you to continue.
“Theodore Nott, you always were an idiot.” You spat, the words tinged with disappointment. “But I never expected you to be such a heartless prick.”
As the final syllable fell from your lips, a heavy silence settled over the room, punctuated only by the shallow rise and fall of your breath. You held Theo’s gaze and as you studied him you noticed something you had failed to notice before. The dark circles that marred the skin beneath his eyes, the redness that rimmed their edges. The weariness that had been etched into his features. 
“I went home.” He finally said, breaking the silence with his words. “Father sent a letter saying it was urgent, that I needed to return home at once.”
You felt yourself deflate and your gaze softened. Theo and his father had never been on the best terms and ever since his mother died they drifted apart even more. Suddenly his attitude made sense and you felt the guilt seep into your senses.
“Turns out his urgent matter was that he found himself another potential wife. Some poor woman to endure his torture and he wanted to happily announce it to his son. He burnt all of my mother’s belongings and if I hadn’t stopped him he would’ve gotten rid of her grave as well.” Theo scoffed bitterly and you saw the way he was trying to stop the tears from falling. “That bastard calls himself my father but not once in his life has he ever cared about me.”
A heavy silence enveloped the both of you as you sat not uttering a word. You knew that he had always struggled with the strained relationship with his family. The death of his mother had resulted in Theo being distraught for weeks as he relived the nightmare whenever he closed his eyes. 
“I’m not going back there. I’m never setting foot in that house ever again.”
You placed your hand on his shoulder as you tried to offer some sort of comfort. His eyes locked with yours and you saw how his tears glistened as they fell silently. You felt ropes tighten around your heart and you squeezed his shoulder gently. It had been a long time since you saw Theodore Nott cry. It was a rare sight but that was what made it that much more painful.
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t know.” You whispered. “I honestly…I’m so sorry Theo. He really doesn’t deserve a son like you. You’re incredible, you know that? You might be irritating and loud and downright infuriating at times but he doesn’t deserve you because you’re amazing Theodore Nott. And, Merlin, if I’m saying that then it must mean a lot because we both know my word is golden.”
You offered him a small smile and your heart warms when you see one tug at his lips too. He looked away for a second and you saw his eyes land on your bandaged hand and he winced.
“I really am sorry for messing up our potion. I didn’t mean what I said, you’re a brilliant witch Y/n, you always have been. I was just being a prat, I’m really sorry.”
“It’s fine, it’s honestly nothing bad. My hand will probably already be back to normal, I heal quickly you know.” You paused as your smile faltered and you chose your next words carefully. “If…if you don’t want to return to your house, you can always go to someone else's.”
Theo chuckled as he shook his head. “No one is going to accept me into their house without turning me into my father.”
“I will.” 
Silence. Theo looked at you, confusion clear on his face but your gaze was strong and he could tell you had meant what you had said. You felt yourself flush at his stare and you realised your hand was still on his shoulder and you quickly removed it.
“Accept you into my house I mean. My parents love you and you know they haven’t been on good terms with your father ever since what happened. We would be more than willing to take you in.” You watched as his face contorted into expressions that you couldn’t formulate. “That is if you promise not to fill my bathtub with toads again.”
Laughter fell from his lips, cascading like a melody. He lifted his hands to wipe away his tears that had been streaking down his face. His eyes no longer held the blank emotionless look but rather a certain warmth that you had missed seeing. Your grin widened upon hearing the sound and you found yourself joining in.
“At least you look pretty-”
Your words were cut off abruptly as Theo leaned in, his lips capturing yours in a sudden and unexpected kiss. You froze, unable to comprehend what exactly was happening as disbelief rippled through your body. His hands found their way at the back of your neck and you feel his thumb caress your cheek tenderly. You were still in shock when he pulled away and the last few words of the sentence you were about to say tumbled out of your mouth.
“-when you cry…”
You blinked as your mind tried to grapple at what had just happened. Theodore Nott had just kissed you. Theodore Nott, the boy you had despised since you were five, had just kissed you. He kissed you. Kissed…you. Immediately, your body erupted into flames and you felt your face flush hot at how close the both of you were.
“Your body temperature has risen extremely quickly.” Theo teased and you felt yourself grow even hotter.
“Shut it.”
“Like you’re actually a human radiator.” He continued undeterred by your glare.
“Nott if you don’t want to lose your head I would advise you to shut up.”
Theo grinned and you felt your heart stutter at the sight. “Oh so now I’m back to being Nott? What happened to Theo?” He said his name in a high pitched croon in an attempt to mock your voice and you smacked the backside of his head which only encouraged his laughter.
“You’re actually going to be the death of me.” You groaned as you slumped back down the bed, pulling the covers over your face as a feeble attempt to hide yourself from the pretty Slytherin.
Theo poked your arm and you peeked out to find him staring at you with a bright grin on his face. 
"Don't worry." He reassured you, his voice light and teasing. "I'll make sure to stay by your side forever and ever, like a blood-sucking parasite."
“How romantic.” You drawled as you rolled your eyes, trying to maintain a facade of annoyance as you retreated under the covers once more.
“Aren’t I just?” 
You ignored Theo’s playful whines for you to let him see your face. Your heart threatened to break out of your chest as you tried to calm yourself down. But even so, you were unable to stop the grin that spread across your face. Maybe, just maybe, forever wouldn't be so bad with Theodore Nott by your side.
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a-b-riddle · 1 day
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Part Three
Warning: If you don't like Taylor Swift, you're not gonna like this chapter that much, homie. But So Long, London is so fitting for this drabble series. (I guess a series since it's longer than a drabble at this point)
Can’t stop thinking about reader just trying to move on
You had to remind yourself several times not to check in with the guys. It had almost become second nature doing something big like this. But going to another country…
Not that they would care. You told yourself. It was for the best that way.
The expo went better than you expected. You didn’t believe that there would be a line out the door of eager readers wanting to read your book, but you got a decent amount. More than a few told you they couldn’t wait to read it. Several asking for photos and asking questions on any future books, a spin-off or even continuing the series.
When one a particular large group of girls your age asked for a group photo, you could have cried. They were had found each other in an online book club. You had given them your book several months ago. All copies signed with a note thanking them for taking the time to read what you had poured your heart into.
You had spent a large chunk of your free time talking to them. Bonding more so as women than over your book.
"Have you listened to Taylor's new album?"
It had only been out for two days and you had been able to avoid it like the plague. You didn't need to even listen to 'So Long, London' to know it would fucking gut you. So you would enjoy your time in the states. Save the listening experience for when you were packing up their stuff.
They had posted and tagged you before continuing on with the rest of the expo. You had reposted the photo to your own social media. Or at least one attached to the pen name you had crafted. You only had twelve thousand instagram followers, but it was something.
The first day was much like the second. You had attended several Q & A sessions with a panel of more experienced authors and managed to go to a few meet and greets. Before you knew it, it was time to pack up shop.
The agent the publishing house had assigned to you had stuck with you for most of the day. You were able to pick her brain a bit about new ideas for possible future plot lines and her thoughts. Overall, the trip was great.
Not only were you able to make great connections and take a lot back home with you to reference, but for a few days you forgot what waited for you back home. Or rather what wasn't waiting for you.
By the time your plane landed back in London you could barely hold yourself up. You left the expo, went straight to the hotel to shower, pack and head to the airport.
Your flight was delayed. Your luggage was taking forever to get onto the belt. It was only seven, but fuck if you weren’t ready to just call it a day. Tomorrow you would have to start again. Opening up the shop. Coming back to an empty flat. Maybe start gathering up the items the boys had left behind.
Should you give them in separate boxes or just one giant one and let them sort it out themselves? It was easy to discern whose sweatshirt and t-shirts belonged to who, but when it got to things like socks and chargers...
Yeah.
They could sort it themselves.
You could drop it off at Kyle's when you knew he would be at the gym. He was good at avoiding you anyway.
It wasn't until you stood in your apartment did it hit you.
You were alone.
For the first time in over a year you couldn't call one of them over to soothe that ache of loneliness.
For the first time in over a year, you had to relearn how to handle just being alone.
You usually showered at night. Washing away the grime of the day before settling into bed. But today was a new chapter. You woke up wanting to start it on a good note. Plus you went straight to bed after getting home so you still had a bit of airport funk on you.
It had been a week. One official since you had sent that text nailing the coffin shut. You had touched base with your friends who didn't bat an eye at you dating four men at once. They liked them, even if Simon scared them. You didn't give them the details of the breakup or the cause. You were pretty private in your problems and if you wanted relationship advice, you would seek an unbiased unopinion.
You had a good group of friends, but the moment you told them that you were well and truly heartbroken, they would insist the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else. Something you were nowhere near ready for.
So you needed to look like you had your shit together. You put on a dress that was feminine and, most importantly, comfy as fuck. An A-line floral frock paired with a light sweater and some white trainers. You knew a few of your friends would be stopping by for tea so you need to look like you were taking the separation well. Even if you were barely holding it together.
With makeup and perfume on, you started the early morning stroll to your shop.
You loved openings. Starting up the register and selecting the playlist for today. Picking out the essential oil to put in the diffuser even though you mostly stuck with a lavender and vanilla blend during the spring months.
For the morning you stuck with a Taylor Swift Instrumental playlist you had found initially for studying, but you liked the peaceful feeling it brought. Even when it covered the most gut wrenching songs.
You had started to collect the online orders that had accumulated over the last week. Sending out the e-mails alerting to your patrons that their orders were ready for pick up. Luckily you weren't set to receive a delivery until tomorrow.
It was eight and everything was set. Although not many people came to a bookstore at eight in the morning, it really didn't bother you opening up that early considering you were the only employee that was on the payroll. It gave you the possibility of making money, but mostly you spent the morning reading or writing.
You flipped the sign over from CLOSED to OPEN. Ready to start take on the day.
You had turned the kettle on in the back room when your friends had stopped by around lunch. You always said it was just tea, but you always had an array of snacks on standby for you all to munch on.
Meredith was complaining about what a dick the new client at the law firm was being. An absolute slime who had been married to his wife for almost twenty-five years before he decided to fuck his twenty-two year old assistant.
Tabitha didn't want to talk about work. To her, her career in tech was just a paycheck. She did what she needed to do and left when she was done.
You talked about the expo and how your book. Although neither of them really read, they had promised that they would read your book. You didn't hold your breath. They had reposted your posts as well as making ones of their owns in celebration of you. Words of praise about your dedication and hard work.
You realized that even though they couldn't give you the support you needed as readers, they supported you blindly. You could have written absolute garbage, but they would still support you.
You talked about how many people liked your book and wanted pictures and to sign their copies.
Then came the question you had been rehearsing since you had texted them a week ago. They both shared a look before Meredith finally asked.
"How are you holding up?" You gave a half-smile and a shrug. So perfectly rehearsed in your head you were ready to deliver your lies lines.
"I'm fine," you lied. "It was just fading so there isn't much of a difference, I guess." Not necessarily a lie. "We just wanted different things and were on different paths in life." Not a lie. "It's for the best." You weren't sure if that last one was a lie or not just yet.
They both shared a passing look before returning their gazes back to you. "You know you can come to us about this stuff." Tabitha's hand reached across the table, placing a hand on top of yours.
"It wasn't going to work out." You added. "Situations like that don't and I should have known better."
"A situation?" Meredith asked. "When have you ever called it a situation?"
"It always was one."
"I love you enough to call bullshit." She raised her eyebrow at you, crossing her arms over her chest. "You loved them and you need to stop pretending this is easy."
"You're a divorce lawyer, Mere," You reminded. "You see marriages fall apart every day."
"I do. I get to see from across the table how a woman is still willing to take her cheating arse of a husband back. So the fact that you went from on cloud nine with all of them to not even talking about the break up is concerning to say the least."
"Tabitha," you looked at your only ally left. "A little back up would be nice."
"I'm with her on this one." She confirmed. "You loved them. Not that I cared, but if you weren't talking about books or the shop, you were talking about them. What you did, where you went. How they fucked you."
"I think I'll miss that part the most." Mere sighed. "I lived vicariously through you."
"You know you could actually date people." Tabitha suggested.
"I'd rather live with chronic carpal tunnel than a man." You almost choked on your tea. If you were wearing pearls you would have used the comedic relief of clutching them to break the awkwardness of the current topic of conversation.
"That should be put on a t-shirt." You suggested
"I wouldn't mind it on a welcome mat to be honest." Tabitha added.
"But in all seriousness, cut this bullshit." Meredith gave you an sympathetic smile. "We're here. Good, bad and ugly."
You returned her smile. "I know."
You had closed up shop for the evening. Your lunch had gone longer than expected so now you were left doing the dishes and clean up during closing. You were setting the last cup on the drying rack when you heard the front door chime.
Shit.
You must have forgotten to lock the door when you turned the sign.
“I’m sorry!” You apologized, making your way out of the back break area and to the front of the store. “We’re-”
“Closed.” He said, locking the door behind him. “I saw the sign.”
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okwonyo · 3 days
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comfort of a bed ✴︎⠀ ( 엔하이픈 희승 ) non-idol au established relationship fluff 0.3k + cw. not proof-read skinship | library
thinking about heeseung, who loves the comfort a soft bed, warm covers and the relaxation that comes with the turning off of the lights. he loves sleeping at the depths of night and waking up in the late afternoon. all the above were enjoyable before, but now that he had a taste of doing all of this with your body pressed against his, he can’t let go.
would get whiny and pouty when you get up before he does, although most of the time it’s caused by your unbearable need of water in the middle of the night, would get awoken by the slightest movement of yours. “why do you hate me?” i can imagine him saying; hand holding your wrist firmly, voice cranky and still filled with sleep, messy hair all over his barely opened eyes. “no.. baby, come back..” he would tell you, desperately trying to pull you back in bed, despite you assuring him that you are just a bit thirsty.
your first mistake would be thinking that he would give up if you tell him that he can get out of the bed he cherishes so much, to come with you. he obviously would take your words to heart, walking close behind you to the kitchen: one hand in yours and the other rubbing his eyes — would stumble over his own feet at some point, as you would be his only compass in the complete dark. would hum in agreement when you propose him some water then would stop drinking immediately when he ears you snorting at the ridiculousness of the situation.
he would be the one to lead you back to your shared bedroom, a sudden wave of enthusiasm watched over him by the thought of sleeping in your arms only. a idiotic smile would grow on his face while he gets under the covers, matching well with the cartoon-like sigh that would leave his mouth when he would rest his head on your chest — trust me, he won’t wake up until two in the afternoon the next day.
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