#when i have to just accept that. she had a boyfriend. she may very well be very happy with him. she might be straight! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

smutoperator · 1 month

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Love In An Elevator

Jo Hyewon (Zoa) x Male Reader

Tags: big tits, DSLs, elevator sex, facefucking, facial, fast-paced blowjob, first date, girlfriend, high-intensity sex, jerking off, long legs, pussy eating, restaurant, (lots of) riding, (lots of) spitting, teen, titfucking, visual

Word count: 4924

Zoa is a hidden gem. Her visuals are stunning. Beautiful deer-esque face, long legs, big and ripe boobs—she's got everything. You couldn't believe it when she accepted your proposal to date her. There might be idols who are more famous than her, but to you, she was the prettiest, without question.

You took Zoa to your favorite top-rated restaurant on your first date, wanting to impress her. Zoa gushed at your proposal, feeling really lucky she got to have a boyfriend who would take her to the best places and enjoy experiences she thought she never would.

When Zoa was eating, you couldn't stop staring at her; she was just so stunningly beautiful that she demanded all of your attention at all times. But one part of her body caught your attention the most: her big and ripe boobs under her white shirt, which made it very easy for you to see. Zoa may be just an 18-year-old teenager, but her mature personality also shows off in her sexy body, with her already having the features of a fully grown adult woman. And to you, none were more noticeable than her tits.

"Let's share this moment," Zoa said, running towards the restaurant's elevator to take a picture of herself. After she was done, she sent you the selfie. You were disappointed you couldn't see her striking face, covered by her phone, but the other parts of her body looked better than ever, as you drooled over how her navel was popping out just above her jeans and how long her legs were as she took a full-body shot at the elevator. You still couldn't believe this girl was your girlfriend; she just looks so pretty. You, for sure, would go to all lengths for her. Zoa is really that girl.

After you paid both their restaurant bills, you two entered the elevator, where she had just shared her picture, and left the restaurant. "What did you think of today's date, Zoa?" you asked her. "It was really great; I feel so overwhelmed by the way you were so kind to me and treated me like a princess," she replied. "Well, you are indeed a princess and the most beautiful woman in the whole world," you complimented her.

The elevator door closed as the machine started to go up, and you two continued to chat. The way Zoa laughed caught your attention the most; she truly had the cutest laugh you had ever heard. However, the happy mood between both of you was about to change in a hurry, as the elevator lights started to falter and suddenly the machine came to a halt.

"I'm scared," Zoa told you, as the elevator was now stuck and only the emergency lights were working. "Don't be; we'll be out of here soon," you said, trying to calm her. "I hope so; I don't like being trapped with nowhere to go," Zoa said. "I'll make sure this will go by quickly," you told her.

Easier said than done; you guys had been trapped for a while in the elevator after you said those words. The once calm and collected Zoa was starting to lose her cool, and you were running out of ways to keep your girlfriend calm. The hugs and kisses you gave her just didn't work anymore, and you could see the first tears forming in her eyes. You needed something better.

"It's getting really hot inside here; I'm starting to have a panic attack," Zoa told you. These words set your alarm bell off. You had to act quickly. At the same time, Zoa looked hotter than ever in that white shirt and jeans. But if she was feeling so much heat, you had found a solution to cool her down.

You took Zoa's jeans off, leading her at first to instantly react and cover her beautiful legs. "What are you doing, baby?" she asked. "You said it was getting too hot, so I'm helping you," you told her as you also started taking your shirt off. Zoa provided a helpful hand, and soon you were naked from the torso up while she was from her legs down.

You kept advancing on Zoa's tall, sexy body, aiming next at the spot that had taken most of your attention at the restaurant: her big and still-growing tits, sucking the area around them with her clothes still on. Meanwhile, you reached into her lower backside, running your hands all over her ass and taking her panties off. Your bulging erection under your pants was already touching the entrance of her pussy, making her moan for the first time.

More kisses ensued before you lifted Zoa's shirt slightly up, unveling her sexy belly button as you started fingering your hands all over her young pussy. With just a couple fingers inside, you were impressed by how warm and tight her hole was. You two kept kissing each other as you kept running your left hand in her legs and pussy, while she placed her right hand straight at your already throbbing boner.

Zoa increased her soft and angelic moans as you inserted a third finger in her vagina, getting louder as you started going up and down her tight pussy with them. Her legs closed around them, and she started sweating a little before you took them off her hole.

Next, you took Zoa's white shirt off, with her already unhooking her bra for you to get easier access to her big, young tits. Zoa may be the one called the giant baby, but you were the one acting like a baby, sucking her milkers in a way you had never done to your mother's. You had never seen such firm and ripe boobs like hers; truly, there isn't a single part of Zoa's body that isn't visually striking.

You kept bombarding Zoa's right boob with suckings and kisses while running your hands all over her left tit before pinning her against the elevator wall and groping both of them, leading to her giving you the biggest smile since you two had started dating. Zoa was now completely naked and submissive to you; her natural body was beautiful from head to toe, with no flaws whatsoever.

As Zoa's nipples got erect from your stimulation, you moved down her hot body, exploiting other areas. At first, you sucked the bottom of her boobs before giving a long lick between them, starting all the way down her navel and going all the way up her chest. You repeated this move multiple times, each time getting longer until you licked her from her pussy up to her mouth. Zoa being roughly the same height as you helped a lot, as once you were finished, you just needed to go down a little bit to suck her perky tits once more.

You go on your knees as Zoa spreads her left leg and her toe on the opposite wall of the elevator, while her hands hold the support with all her might as you start eating her out. After your fingers, it's your tongue that gets to know how warm Zoa's pussy is, with her enjoying every second of it as her moans get more and more frequent.

You run your tongue all over Zoa's pink teen pussy, exploiting her folds to the fullest. You start wondering which lips are better, the ones in her mouth or the ones between her legs, as you worship her pussy and move your tongue faster and faster over it. Zoa gets overwhelmed by the speed at which you eat her folds out, turning herself into a moaning machine as you keep going on.

You start making different moves all over Zoa's pussy, kissing it and spitting on it as well. But as she gets wetter inside, your urge to fuck her pussy grows. But first, you go back to do so with your fingers, making her squirt her teen juices all over them. "Oh Shit," Zoa curses and finally says something. As you simultaneously tongue her clit while penetrating her, her moans get louder, and she almost loses her balance. Sensing she is getting wetter and warmer, you increase the pace of your finger-fucking, pushing your beautiful girlfriend to the limit.

"Fuck. AHHHHH!" Zoa screams as you go full-speed with both your hands and mouth. Her pink pussy had never been stimulated like this before, as she has to use all her strength in that confined space she finds herself in not to fall down. But you don't stop, twisting your fingers inside Zoa's pussy and keeping an eye out for different angles to attack her warm hole before pulling out and going all-in with your mouth as you grab her legs and pin her down even further against the elevator wall.

You reach for Zoa's left boob as you keep eating her out. Her soft milkers are perfect for getting groped and honked hard, and her nipples are harder than ever. "Please, please," Zoa begs as you show no signs of slowing down, worshipping her hot body and especially her warm pussy.

"Yes, oh fuck," Zoa says as you move your fingers back inside her pussy, which is now a dripping wet mess. "Yes, keep going," she continues as she closes her eyes, her athletic figure trembling as you put her close to cum with just your hands and mouth. "Oh my God, shit" she continues as you finger-fuck her faster than ever, panting and moaning and grabbing her boobs, just trying to survive your early attacks.

You kiss and worship Zoa's perfect pussy, now also fondling her tits at the same time, paying extra attention to her nipples as you touch them nonstop. You then attack her clit with your tongue, challenging Zoa to stay with her leg up as you see her body shaking harder than ever. Zoa tries not to lose her breath, her body aching with pleasure at each tonguing you give her. But she can't last for long, as you go back with all your four fingers inside her, twisting them all over her pussy and finally making her cum for good.

As Zoa releases her juices out of her pussy, you worship it with tons of kisses, then move up her body to lick her fit belly, giving special attention to her navel. As you fully get up to kiss her and grope her big tits, Zoa starts unhooking your belt and taking more initiative, quickly unleashing your big cock out of your pants.

Zoa gets on her knees and furiously sucks your dick. You can tell she's not that experienced, going very aggressive on your shaft and popping it in and out of her mouth. But that's not important to you, as her mouth is even warmer than her pussy and watching that doe-eyed deer with those amazing dick sucking lips work on that prick is extremely hot. Zoa keeps licking your shaft and sucking your tip hard, her lips fully wrapped around your pole as her head starts bobbing. "Keep sucking it, keep sucking it," you tell her as she looks up and gives you a naughty stare and jerks your shaft, driving you insane with her speed. She puts just the tip inside her mouth, but that's enough to send shivers down your spine.

Zoa gets sloppier and bobs her head deeper against your cock. "Oh yes." You approve of her blowjob skills just as she gags and opens her big eyes, spitting on that dick shortly after. Her fast-paced work on your cock continues as she jerks it off frenetically before using her mouth to warm your shaft up, bobbing hard as one of her hands grabs your thighs and the other grabs your balls.

As Zoa gags on your cock, a string of saliva connects her DSLs to your throbbing tip. Your relief is short as she goes back to attack, doing to your cock what you did to her pussy: licking, sucking, throating, spitting, and using every move she knows. It's even better when she does all that with her big eyes wide open, staring at you, as you can watch her sexy empressions while sucking you off.

You can't resist for long, grabbing Zoa's head to start fucking her face as your cock rips through her DSLs, tying her hair up with your own hands to see more of her beautiful face gagging on that dick and her doe eyes rolling out of pleasure. As soon as Zoa coughs on your cock, you rattle it inside her mouth, hitting her warm walls left and right before she finally pulls out of it and gives a massive spit on your shaft, going back right after as you grab her hair and dunk her face against your balls multiple times, teaching her not to be such an aggressive cock-sucking whore as you spit in her mouth right after.

Zoa makes a mess out of your cock as the facefucking continues, her chin full of saliva that drips out of her mouth as she gets sloppier and sloppier and turns your dick into a wet mess of spit. Now it's your turn to get aggressive, as you grab her head hard and thrust inside her mouth as if you were pounding her pussy full speed, moving your hips at a fast pace as you place your right foot right at the elevator wall, and splitting her dick sucking lips open with no room for any air to enter her mouth.

After rattling your cock inside her mouth once more, you kiss Zoa passionately, tasting her sloppy and cock-flavored mouth to the fullest. Zoa kept jerking you off as you were doing it, and as soon as you pulled out of her mouth, she got back into her aggressive cock-sucking, trying to prove to you she could be your cute-looking, slutty girlfriend. "Holy shit," you said as Zoa engulfed your balls and took your cock full length in her mouth for a few seconds before her lack of experience did her in and made her gag and get out of breath. And every time she pulled out of your cock, she spat on it, quickly turning it into her signature move.

Zoa kept bobbing hard on your cock and filling it full of saliva. You couldn't complain, as you weren't going to need any lube to enter her tight, warm pussy soon after, just letting her do it as she pleased and getting your cock wet and sloppy. "Bad girl," you said as you got back to fuck her face, and once she gagged, you gave it a lot of slapping with your dick, showing her who was the real boss. "You really like to spit on that cock, don't you, you tall young whore?" you asked her, noticing how often she did it.

As Zoa got up, still jerking your cock off, you spat in her mouth. "You are getting too slutty for my liking," you poke at her, even though you really enjoyed it. "Now turn around," you say as you pin her against the elevator wall. Zoa knows what's coming, lifting her long left leg once again and placing her left foot and right hand on the elevator's handrail. In just a couple seconds, your wet cock easily slides inside her tight teen pussy. "Oh fuck, oh shit" Zoa says as she feels your shaft penetrating her.

Knowing she had already shown how much of a whore she is, you give Zoa no room to breathe, attacking her tight pussy hard from the start and kissing her as you pump her warm hole. "Ah, ah, ah, ah," Zoa softly moans as you turn her into your cocksleeve, fingering herself to get that extra pleasure, now holding both hands against the handrail to take the pounding you are giving her. "FUCK!" she screams as her cheeks start to clap and you grab her tiny waist for a better grip, manhandling her pussy full speed. "SHIT," she keeps screaming as you get addicted to her pussy and can't stop fucking her hard. Even though her insides are perfect, Zoa is truly a flawless woman, the daughter of Venus, the goddess of love.

Zoa has a hard time staying up in just one foot; you fuck her so hard she has to cling onto every support of the elevator, which itself starts to swing a little with the force of your rough poundings on her. "Yes, oh yes, oh yes," she says as you spank her ass and show no signs of slowing down. You had never fucked a girl on your first date, and the thought of fucking her in such an unconventional space turned you on a lot.

"Shit, you're fucking me so hard; don't stop," Zoa told you. And no, you were not going to stop. If it depended on you, that elevator would never go back to work again, and you'd just fuck Zoa to eternity. As you start groping her tits and add extra stimulation, Zoa spreads her cheeks to ease the pressure on her already tightening walls that you kept shaping to the format of your cock.

Zoa's left leg finally gives in as she places it back on the ground, giving you a better angle to grab her butt and hold it as you keep fucking her, now in a standing doggy position that made her look so submissive and slutty, as her vocabulary got reduced to just three words: fuck, shit, and yes.

You kept spreading Zoa's ass cheeks and pumping her warm pussy hard while also grabbing her hair and making those cheeks clap at each thrust, discovering how quickly a teen pussy can turn into an addiction that can make even the calmest men turn into raging animals who furiously pound them. Zoa gets firmly grabbed by the waist as you destroy her fuckhole nonstop, testing how hard this young whore could take your big cock fucking the shit out of her. Meanwhile, Zoa's big, ripe melons are now swinging hard, giving you the perfect opportunity to grope them and feel how hard they try to escape from your grasp every time you pound her.

Zoa regains her strength and lifts her leg up again, allowing your cock to penetrate her even easier. She gets very needy and clingy, turning her cute face in your direction and hugging you as you are still fucking her hard, looking for you to kiss her as much as you can. As much as Zoa may love your cock, she loves your touch and kisses even more, and she just wants to be a good girlfriend. And you give her what she wants: kisses up top, dick at the bottom, making the elevator make a lot of noise as you two hit its walls with your intense fucking.

As you're finally done pounding Zoa, she turns around and gives you a torrid kiss. "Am I a good girlfriend?" she ponders in her head. But you don't give her many seconds to think, instantly lifting her body up and pinning her back against the elevator's wall, forcing her to hold both hands hard into the handrail as you fuck her in a face-to-face position with both her feet up in the air.

"Oh yeah," Zoa says as she fingers her pussy and her feet reach the wall on the other side, landing close to the elevator's buttons. You truly couldn't do this position with a girl shorter than her, feeling blessed for Zoa being so tall and perfect for it.

"You don't get to have it so easy," you tell her, placing her right leg over your shoulder instead and pressing her even further against the wall, giving her a rough but very passionate missionary fucking that sends her over the moon, with Zoa giving you a kiss every time she's not moaning like a submissive slut. "AHHHHH!" Zoa's loud screams come along with the loud noises of her body banging against the elevator's wall as she gets ragdolled and enjoys it to the fullest.

It turns out such a position ends up being too demanding, not only for her but for you as well, as you get Zoa back on her feet and compensate her with another passionate kiss. This time, you let her fully spread her legs and hook them to opposite sides of the elevator, giving you the perfect view of her body, but especially her face, tits, pussy and thighs as you resume fucking her, now with one hand grabbing her head to kiss her and another groping her tits.

Zoa gets increasingly clingy, hugging you and pushing your body even closer to hers. She wants your touch, your cock, to be your cute girlfriend but also your slutty fucktoy. As the hard pounding finally starts to get you tired, you decide to try something different: lying on the elevator's floor as you look up at her goddess-esque tall body, sliding just under her long legs.

You don't even need to give a command; Zoa already knows what to do. She moves a couple steps and squats down your cock, letting herself get fully impaled. At first, you think of telling her to turn around to see her face as she rides you, but as soon as Zoa starts clapping those cheeks against your hips, you feel very appreciative of the back view she gives you, enjoying her beautiful long hair, her toned ass, and her sexy back to the fullest.

Zoa shows no mercy for your cock, riding it hard from the start. "OH MY GOD," she suddenly finds herself screaming, but doesn't slow down. She wants to prove to herself that she can tame any cock. Her moans get louder and screamier as you grind your teeth, trying to hold as hard as you can not to shoot inside her warm hole. Her tits get very bouncy, but you can't see them, and she uses the handrail to her advantage, holding onto it as she keeps bouncing on your cock.

"Wow, I never knew you could ride a dick like that," you tell her. Truth be told, not even Zoa did. Her moves are very spontaneous, the ones of a girl still discovering the pleasures and intrincacies of sex. At times, your cock feels like it's too much for her still-young and unexperienced self, but she's a strong girl ready to blossom and won't stop. The more she feels challenged, the more she wants to ride you, and the harder she goes.

Zoa stays on course; she knows that the elevator won't be turned off for long and wants to bounce as many times on your cock as she can. She starts fingering her pussy, getting wetter, and allowing your prick to slide up and down her easier. "Ah, God," she moans, riding it as fast as she can. The more you hit her sensitive cervix, the better.

You can't be just a bystander to Zoa's pleasure and decide to teach her a lesson, lifting both her legs up and regaining control of the pounding. "Oh yeah," Zoa says as you start pumping her hard back again and destroying her pussy, which has become an addiction to you. The warmth of her hole makes you go feral once more, pounding Zoa balls deep and making your cock fully disappear inside her vagina. It turns out she really likes it rough, as her cunt gets much juicer the moment you go back to manhandle her.

Zoa's pussy burns and clenches all over your cock, forcing you to pull out quickly after just a couple minutes of pounding not to cum inside her. Maybe you need to take it slow. As she turns around, she goes back to sitting on that cock, allowing you to have a full frontal view of her perfect body. "Just ride it as hard as you can," you ask her as you spank her ass. Zoa obliges, this time tilting her body as she clings onto yours and bumps her bouncy chest against it.

"GOD!" Zoa screams as you keep hitting her ass and turning it red, but that only makes her increase her intensity and go full speed against your throbbing pole, bouncing on it as if she wants to snap it in half. "Whoa," you say as Zoa now pushes you to the limit—that perfect, tight pussy biting your cock and sliding up and down—is really just too much for you.

You push your cock up Zoa's pink pussy and put a pair of fingers up her asshole, attempting to slow her down, but she won't cave this time. Zoa wants that cock deep in her pussy at all costs and keeps bouncing. Her hair covers her face, she grabs the handrail hard, and one of her hands is now in her ass to provide her with some extra impulse. "Holy shit," you say as Zoa keeps smashing your cock like nothing. You just decide to grab her by the waist and aid her, pushing her body down your shaft with even more speed, even if it makes you give in and cum inside her.

Zoa's tits are like a pair of pinballs bouncing hard as she places her hands on your chest and stares at you. Her doe eyes are fully bright; she hasn't felt this excited in a long time. Even as you push her closer to you and tilt her body sideways, she never stops. "Fuck, fuck, yes, I want that cock deep in my pussy," she tells you as her cheeks make a loud noise, clapping on your balls.

"Bad girl," you say once again as you slap her ass. Zoa agrees; she's a bad girl, a cock-craving slut, and a teen whore. As she pulls out of your cock a little bit, you think her bombardment is over, but after just two seconds, she has already regained strength to sit back on that cock. It's the only thing she wants now: cock, cock, and more cock. "OH. GOD. FUCK. AH. SHIT." These are the only words that come from Zoa's mouth, as she keeps using your chest as an impulse for her crazy bouncing.

More than 10 minutes have passed, and Zoa just doesn't seem to stop. You push up once again and try to challenge her, as one of her hands is still on the handrail while the other holds your body, but Zoa has won the battle. The truth is, you can never challenge a K-pop idol when it comes to stamina. It's futile.

As Zoa finally climbs out of your cock, she still has her hands on it, always jerking it off at every chance she gets. You stand up to kiss her, still recovering from her crazy ride, but she never gets her tiny hands out of that dick, getting on her knees shortly after to taste her pussy from it, her doe eyes looking more focused than ever. With the way she gags on it, takes it deep in her throat, and jerks it off, it's like your ride never ended. But you can't lie, you love how aggressive she is, taking every second of this elevator fuck session as if it were the last. "Oh yes, fuck," you say as Zoa engulfs that pole all the way deep in her throat in a way many seasoned veterans would be unable to.

"Fuck my face again," she says. Suddenly, that little inexperienced teen is long gone, and she is now giving you orders. She should really respect your seniority, shouldn't she? But you said to hell with it and just gave Zoa what she wanted. You just couldn't say no to the most beautiful woman on the planet, grabbing her head and shoving your big cock down those DSLs until she coughs.

You move back to the elevator's floor, and Zoa follows you as you now penetrate her in a spooning position. Romantic kisses up top and hard pumpings at the bottom ensue. One of your hands grabs her boobs, the other her neck. Zoa can only say "yes" at each pumping and moan like a whore, especially after you move your hands down her body all the way into her wet pussy. You have to grab her long legs to go faster, putting her on the edge. Her pussy tightens as you choke her and muffle her moans with your thumb in her mouth.

You keep pumping Zoa nonstop. "Right there, right there," she says before screaming hard as she cums. She then ties her hair up and gets on her knees, placing her big tits right between your dick and moving them up and down your shaft as you passively watch, searching for that cum. "You want my cum, you little whore?" you ask her. "Yes, baby, all over my pretty face," she says, keeping her aggressive titfucking session going. As you were already on the edge, she promptly gets her wish as seven gravity-defying shots cover her beautiful face full of sperm.

Zoa doesn't even get to enjoy the massive cumshot you gave her, as the elevator starts working again shortly after, leading both of you to get dressed in a hurry and act like nothing happened, with her cleaning her face of your cum just in time to emerge out of it.

It's going to be hard to top your first date.

#zoa smut #weeekly smut #female idol smut #girl group smut #kpop smut #male reader smut

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bluewxrld07 · 18 days

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love ain't so pretty (Luke Hughes)

Warning(s): angst, gold-digger accusations, self-doubt, insecurity

Summary: Y/n is a hard worker. She may not come from a family of wealth, but she doesn't let that define her. Until Luke says something inn which that something is said in a way he can never take back.

She was so overstimulated. She was tired, she was sweaty, she had stains on her shirt from a spilt coffee mishap.

Yet she still had that smile on her face as she greeted and bid farewell to regulars and other newer customers. Y/n wiped the sweat dripping from her forehead away as she finished wiping down one of her last tables for the night, pocketing the leftover generous tip she was left.

As she brought the dishes to the back and hung up her apron, she saw one of her closest coworkers, Grayson, making his way towards her.

"We're going out tonight if you want to join? Just to Don's down the street." he tells her as she helps the chefs with putting dishes in the sink.

She purses her lips. "Not tonight-" her coworker groans. "I promised Luke I'd come home tonight and watch the rest of the Frozen four game. UMich plays tonight, so he invited some of the guys over and wants us all there to watch it."

Grayson puts his hands on his hips and looks her up and down. "Girl, you are absolutely smitten by this man."

Y/n rolls her eyes, feeling her skin heat up. "He gets me what can I say. He's the first guy who likes me as a person. Not as just something with tits and ass." She jokes, earning a playful shove from him.

They laugh. "Hey those guys back then were fine as fuck and you know it." He shoots, earning a defeated sigh from her as she grabs her belongings.

"Yeah yeah, that was back then. I'm happier now," she chuckles, giving Grayson a hug. "Tell your man of the night hi for me though." she jokes, earning a snort.

"Oh you'll bet hearing about it tomorrow don't you worry." Graysons calls out to her as she walks off.

As she drove home that night, she felt more of the fatigue slipping in from her twelve hour shift, her feet beginning to slowly throb from being on them nonstop.

She knew she would regret taking another twelve hour shift for the fifth day in a row, but in all fairness she knew her paycheck was going to look super nice. Not that she minded working anyway.

Y/n has never had things come easy to her. She came from a family of the lower class, and she had done what she could to support them while also getting her education.

When it came to college, she knew that she wanted nothing more than to graduate with her Bachelor's degree in health science. That all came to an end when her mom died, and her father was struggling to pay bills. So she put her dreams and scholarship acceptance letters aside, putting her family first and working her ass off.

Now she was working as one of the partial owners of a very beautiful restaurant, making a decent amount of change and ignoring what everyone had said about her decisions of not going to college. Sure she still wishes she could have experienced the college life, but she knew that this life was better than spending the rest of her life paying off student loan debt.

She worked hard to get where she got to, and working where she does is what caused her to meet her now boyfriend of almost three years, and she would be damned if she would let Luke be the only one making the money in their relationship.

He has always made comments about how he could be their income, but it always needed with her saying she wanted to make her own money. As well as knowing she would get bored not doing something with her life, and she couldn't face the thoughts of him thinking she would become too reliant on his money.

She snapped herself out of the darker side of those thoughts, knowing she does work hard.

Y/n lets out a sigh of exhaustion as she made her way up the stairs towards her and Luke's shared apartment, the sounds of the guys voices being heard as she got closer to their place.

The girl opened the door quickly to not disturb their conversation being had in the other room, shutting it quietly as she took off her shoes.

She set her keys and purse on the rack, making her way down the hall and pulling her hair into a knot on the top of her head.

The guys chuckles and conversations dying down a bit as she cam into view, everyone giving her warm welcomes and 'hello's. She exchanged a few hugs and greetings to the Devils players in her household, soon making her way behind the couch to hug her boy from behind.

Luke lets out a chuckle as he felt Y/n bury her face in his neck and place a kiss there, his fingers caressing her wrists that were around his neck.

"How was work, baby?" he asks softly, she hums.

"Busy. Long. Grayson asked if I wanted to come out with him and the rest of the crew, but I just could not. I'm so tired."

"How many hours did you work today?"

"Close to thirteen. I covered for Miriam because her son was sick." she sighs, laying her chin on his shoulder.

Luke places a few chaste kisses on her cheek and temple. "You definitely deserve a drink or two though."

"Yeah, but I wanted to come watch the game with you and the boys. I also don't get paid till tomorrow, so I'd rather just keep the money spending to a tighter budget." she explains, earning a grin from Luke.

"I could've sent you money, love. You never go out really," he assures her, but she shakes her head and stands straight. She squeezes his shoulders.

"Not the point, baby. I don't need you spending your money on me. I make my own money, I don't want to rely on you, you know how I get with you spending money on me." she says, placing a kiss on his head.

Luke just sighs, and looks up at her. "Why don't you go shower, and I will grab you a drink and something to eat for when you get back out here?" he suggests, she grins down at him and nods.

Y/n walks off to their shared bedroom and into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her to strip down.

The warm water instantly helps sooth her muscles and pains, earning some decompressing sighs of relief from her as she washes herself clean.

Once she is done, she steps out and heads towards the mirror to do her nightly routine. She shrugs on some cropped sweats and Luke's sweatshirt that was hanging up, brushing her hair after.

As she opens the door that goes back to their shared room, she sets her towel on her desk chair and goes to place her phone on the charger.

She pauses when she hears something from one of the guys, in which it makes her frown.

"Why didn't she go out tonight?"

She hears Luke sigh. "I don't know. She said something about not getting paid till tomorrow and being tight on her budget."

One of the guys snort. "What does she do?"

"She's a partial owner and full-time manager for that nice restaurant down the street overlooking the bridge."

It's quiet for a few seconds. "That's it? Nothing special?"

"Really? I thought she did something else," one guy chuckles.

"Nope, she's just over there." Luke answers quietly.

"No wonder she is tight on money. I thought she went to college and got a real job or something."

"I didn't know you'd stoop down to lower-class type girls Lukey," a guy jokes, making Y/n's insides churn.

"I don't that's the thing," Luke laughs, Y/n instantly getting closer to the doorway to hear what else he has to say. "She could definitely use the money I make here and there. She doesn't make shit compared to what I get."

Y/n's blood runs cold.

She knows she is not professional sports player, but she does make a decent amount, so hearing Luke say that makes her heart ache. The man that was supposed to stick up for her and love her regardless was saying things like this when she wasn't in the room. Who knew what else he was saying when he wasn't around her.

"Wouldn't you be worried about her becoming a gold digger though, man?"

Luke scoffs. "I mean yeah of course, but she's got this thing where she needs to prove to whoever that she can make money. So she will never accept a dime from me. She barely pays for our rent here, she pays a good forty percent. But without me around who knows if she'd have a roof over her head."

Y/n didn't even realize she was crying until she felt the drops hitting her toes, the girl instantly wiping at her eyes.

She couldn't listen to any more of their conversation, instantly heading towards their closet and grabbing whatever she could fit into the duffel.

If he was going to say this about her, making her sound like she could be so broke and so homeless if he wasn't around. She didn't want a man like that in her life.

Y/n grabbed her phone and charger, slipping on a pair of socks and her jacket before walking out of their bedroom.

She stormed down out past the group sitting in the living room, noticing Luke in the kitchen in her side view. She beelined towards the hallway that led to their front door, putting on her shoes as she heard Luke say her name.

"Where you going? I just finished making you your favorite!" he says in an excited tone. Luke's smile falters as he sees her puffy and red splotched face.

"Baby? What's going on?" he asked, as he began to walk towards her.

She just shook her head, grabbing her purse and keys. "I can't do this." she scoffs with a sniffle.

"Do what? Hey, hey, hey," he says, grabbing her waist to turn her back towards him as she begins to open the front door. His face falls completely at the sight of her broken one.

"I won't be some fucking charity case for you," she snaps. Luke's face frowning. "What?" he asks.

"I make more than enough money to be financially stable on my own fucking feet. I don't need you feeding some fucking lies to your so called friends that I can't pay shit. You chose the rent split percentage. You chose how much you wanted me to pay because you wanted to spend more on me."

Luke's face was white. "Y/n I-"

"No. I'm done Luke. Go fuck some high-class bitch that can afford everything you can and more. We're over."

Before Luke could get another word out, the door slammed in his face.

Luke backed away from the door silently, his figure coming into view to the boys who heard the door slam.

"Luke you good?"

He ran his hands through his hair, his eyes still locked on the door in hopes she would come back. Tears threatening to spill in his eyes.

"Luke?"

He turned away and towards the kitchen, swiping the glass on the counter away and letting it shatter on the fridge.

"I fucked up. Big time."

#hockey boys #angst #luke hughes #y/n #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes imagine

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colourstreakgryffin · 3 months

Note

Hello !

Could you please write some headcanons with Alastor and m!reader as his S/O , where reader is a fallen seraphim / ex - seraphim?

Thank you in advance !

Hmmm! Okay! I actually wanted Alastor discovering his partner is a Fallen Angel for a while now. I can imagine what would happen… but uh, anyway. Let’s try this out, shall we? Alastor is now my primary Hazbin Hotel man, which I don’t mind! I love this man!

Alastor- Lies and Deception

Why… why would you lie?! Why did you lie?! Why did… Alastor can barely process what he just learnt. His beloved partner, his cute sweetie. A affectionate polite man, you. You’re not a demon at all, you’re an angel and you were a high-level angel as well. Charlie isn’t the only one who finds out her partner is a angel, Alastor did too

“A-Al! I can explain… I just—” “Save it, Leitore. I don’t want to hear from you” and with that, Alastor goes back down to Hell. Not hearing you out, despite when you try to explain yourself. It hurts your soul seeing your boyfriend, now, so closed-off, cold and disinterested

Alastor refuses to talk to you and when he does, he is quite passive-aggressive but yet, he can’t bring himself to be insulting. He is more business than emotions and comes off as very apathetic. It’s just because he doesn’t know how to act around you anymore with this grand discovery drilled into his head

He avoids you like the plague after the incident in Heaven and Adam revealing both you and Vaggie’s angelic origins to the Group

Alastor had ended up just like Charlie. Both him and Charlie are struggling with learning that their partner lied to them and hid their true selves for so long. Unlike Charlie, who vents to Alastor about Vaggie all the way to the Cannibal Colony, Alastor tries to not focus on you… he doesn’t want a reminder

However, he is eventually talked into trying to make it up with you by his dear friend, Rosie. She reminds him that you’re his lover and that he can’t just shut you out over you not trusting Alastor to not throw you out if you told him the truth… oh, Alastor could kiss Rosie right now! But, he can’t. He needs to make up with you after the weeks he’s spent ignoring you

Like Charlie, Alastor brings over a little gift. Surprised to find out that you’ve gotten back your angel wings after so long of merely looking like an average sinner. Three feathery sets, they are gorgeous and they make your eyes pop. Alastor may not like that his lover is an Angel and he’s a true Demon but that shouldn’t keep you two apart… and after Rosie’s talk, it won’t

After quite the long private talk with you and much forgiveness and acceptance and promising, Alastor is once again, by your side and holding your hand. He was harsh in the past about what he considered a betrayal but he has heard your side of it and forgiven you for lying to him. Not everybody is perfect

Alastor may or may not play with your reborn and re-gained angel wings when he is bored or waiting. You’re always right next to him so he’ll just run sharp long clawed fingers through the gentle feathers and be enamoured by how incredible it feels. Alastor also may just take an nap on your back with how comfortable those wings of yours are

Alastor is your sweet devil, a truly corrupted evil monster but he has an opposite in the man you are, a more pacifistic and harmless soul. Just like Charlie and Vaggie but swapped, you and Alastor are the higher-up Angel-Demon gay couple. Alastor is unredeemable and won’t be going to Heaven whilst you, a being of Heaven, is stuck down here in Hell

Alastor much prefers you stay in your original look but now, that also includes the Seraphim wings. Just keep them out of the way whilst you walk and Alastor is completely content with it. He just has to get use to having an angel in the Hotel… he has to get use to having TWO angels in the Hotel

Trust me, Alastor won’t ask about life as a Seraphim in Heaven. He doesn’t even care about it, he doesn’t care what dropped you into Hell. He only cares that you’re in Hell and that you’ll stay in Hell, stay with him. That’s all he’ll ever ask, but if you want to talk about your past in Heaven, he is all ears

Alastor, also, may not be perfect but he is doing his best to accept the reality that you had to lie to him and now that, you’re both cleared it up with one another. Now, you can be 100% honest with each other

Alastor is encouraging to you, encouraging you to let out your angelic origins and not be frightened by all the Sinners. Everybody in the Hotel knows you and Vaggie are from Heaven, just embrace it. He is embracing it one step at a time

“Oh… darling. I know I was quite harsh to you. I was just upset, I thought the man I loved was against me and I was trying to kill me from the inside. I understand you didn’t want to tell me and that’s okay… we’ll get through this little bump together”

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soleilceirinen · 3 months

Text

Scaredy Cat | modern!Tommy Shelby x fem!Reader

Summary: your boyfriend and your cat don't get along, they hate each other. When you have to travel for work and there is no one else to take care of your cat except for Tommy, you can't help but worry. What will you find when you return?

Warning: mentions of past animal abuse (not anymore), the cat gets sick, Tommy swears as usual, etc. If some of this might trigger you, don't read. There are mentions of smut but no real smut.

A/N: English isn't my first language, sorry if there are mistakes!

Peaky Blinders Masterlist - Cillian Murphy Masterlist

Tommy was very good with horses. Sometimes, just to tease him, you liked to call him 'Horse Whisperer Tommy'. He didn't find it funny at all. The truth is that he didn't get along so well with cats.

At least, this man was incapable of getting along with yours. And it was funny because most of the time he reminded you of an angry cat himself, the rest of the time too, being honest. Sometimes, when you were on the couch watching a movie with Tommy lying on your chest and you scratched the back of his head right where his hair was shorter, you would swear you could hear him purring, melting under your touch.

Your cat liked to make things difficult. The first time Tommy stayed over at your house, the cat took the space on the bed between the two of you, making it clear which was her territory and that you were hers. Every time he tried to get closer to you he was met with an outstretched paw that pushed him to the opposite side of the bed. You thought it was funny, he not so much. When you woke up you found Tommy's suit jacket full of orange hairs, crumpled on the floor. To this day the jacket still had traces of cat hair.

Moreover, how could you forget the day when Tommy was working on his laptop from your house and the cat bit the corner of the screen? Needless to say, Tommy couldn't continue working on whatever he was doing, which pissed him off so much, because the device stopped working. Your cat spent the rest of the day with a satisfied expression on her round face.

The rest of the time, the poor creature just hissed at Tommy every time she saw him. Eventually, she ended up accepting that neither of them were going to disappear from your life. At least you hoped it wouldn't happen in a long time.

From the bedroom you heard your boyfriend talking, his deep voice too low to understand his words. You assumed that he would be talking on the phone, always busy with work, even in his sleep he kept mumbling meaningless phrases.

You headed to the kitchen, after a long day at work you couldn't wait any longer to have dinner. Your cat appeared out of nowhere and began to walk between your legs, creating infinity shapes and wrapping her long tail around your calf. You bent down to scratch her belly when she leaned on the floor in the middle of the kitchen.

"You're so cute," you said in a childish voice, earning a sideways glance from Thomas, full of resentment.

"Cute my balls," he spat.

The cat looked at you with her eyes wide open, as if she were asking you ‘did you hear what he said?’ You jumped to your feet and put your hands on your hips, looking at Tommy with a raised eyebrow. "May I know what's the matter with you?"

“Your cat, Y/N,” he muttered, turning to you with his hand in front of his face. On the back of it was a deep cut, no, it was a scratch. "Look what the evil’s spawn has done to me."

You glanced at the cat one last time, she looked back at you and licked her paw innocently. Letting out a sigh, you took Tommy's hand in yours to inspect the wound.

"What have you done to make her do this?" you asked cautiously.

He responded with a huff. "Nothing. She came out of nowhere and jumped at me with her claws out."

You nodded in silence and began to disinfect his hand. Your cat was like that, she didn't like men. Actually, she only liked you. Sometimes you wondered if her bad attitude was due to her previous owners, who didn't treat her very well. The thought of someone mistreating your cat filled you with sadness as well as anger. Fucking bastards.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, to him and to her, a tinge of sadness in your voice which didn't go unnoticed to Tommy.

When you finished covering his scratch with a bandaid, Tommy grabbed you hand in his and gave it a loving squeeze before continuing placing the food on the dinner table.

You had always liked animals, when you were little you weren’t allowed to have pets because your brother was allergic to them. So, the moment you got a job in the city and moved out on your own, the first thing you did was go to the nearest shelter to adopt a kitten.

That was the initial idea, to bring a small cat home and raise it. However, when you saw the sad eyes of the orange cat watching you from inside her cubicle, you had the feeling that you were predestined to end up together. She was already an adult cat at that time but that didn't matter to you.

At the shelter they briefly told you that her former owners, whoever they were, had mistreated her and left her abandoned, half dead in a garbage can. A homeless man searching through the trash found her and took her there, where she was taken care of until she luckily recovered. You couldn't be more grateful to that stranger who cared enough to rescue her. Unfortunately, two years had passed since then and no one had wanted to adopt her.

She instantly won your heart. You took her home and named her Cat, like Holly Golightly's cat in Breakfast at Tiffany's. Plus, both of them looked alike. Of course, Tommy complained that it was a ridiculous name for a cat, similar as if he called one of his horses Horse.

A couple of weeks after the scratching incident with Tommy, you were notified that you had to travel to another city for a week on behalf of the company you worked for, which was great because it gave you the opportunity to explore new places. The disadvantage was that your cat was old and had to take a pill every day, for life. You didn't trust anyone to leave them in charge of such a task, but not going on the company trip would mean losing the opportunity to receive a promotion in the coming months. You didn't know what to do but you had an idea.

That night Tommy was going to visit you, so you would make him a suggestion.

After having dinner, Tommy and you started kissing passionately. Everything with him was very intense. His warm, calloused hands ran along your sides under your shirt, leaving a trail of goosebumps over your soft skin. Your fingertips scratched the shaved sides of his hair and he let out a moan, pressing his lips harder against yours, never breaking the contact.

You were starting to feel his bulge growing against your crotch, so you moved your hips against him, enjoying the friction. Now you were the one who let out a moan of pleasure.

“Fuck,” he murmured, burying his face in your neck as he panted. "Can't you make her leave, or at least make her stop staring at me like that?"

You looked at him slightly confused, following his gaze to the cardboard box where Cat was lying with her head resting on the edge of it, watching you without blinking. It didn't matter how many beds you bought her, none could beat the cardboard box. Rolling your eyes, you placed a hand on your boyfriend's face and caressed his sharp cheekbone, trying to get him to focus on you again.

"Just ignore her. Look at me," you said softly, kissing his jaw.

Tommy pulled away from you and sat on the sofa, running a hand over his face. "I can't, love. She's looking at me, killing my mood." He shrugged, looking sick.

You sighed, mentally saying goodbye to any possibility of Tommy fucking the hell out of you. "How bold she is, daring to look down on the great Thomas Michael Shelby."

He gave you a wide eyed look before frowning. "Are you making fun of me? Hey, where do you think you're going? Taking the beast to another room?"

"I'm going to get some water."

Once in the kitchen you took a couple of deep breaths, gathering the courage to talk to him. It was your opportunity to convince him to stay with Cat. You returned to the living room and sat next to him, crossing your legs on the sofa.

"Tommy, do you remember my work trip?"

He looked at you with a blank face for a few seconds until a spark of knowledge shone at the back of his eyes. "Yes, you're going away for a week. Is that right?"

You nodded, biting your lip. "Can I ask you a favor?"

His expression changed to one of suspicion. Usually you didn't ask for things, you didn't hesitate, so he knew you were about to ask him to do something he wouldn't like.

"It depends".

"You have to come in the morning to feed Cat, but not too much because she eats it all and gets sick," Tommy opened his mouth to complain but you were faster, placing the palm of your hand over his lips before continuing. "At night you come back and give her the pill with a bit of soft food, you have to pay attention and make sure she has swallowed it, okay? Also, change her water, because when she has it for more than a day she won’t drink it."

He gave you a small kiss on the palm of your hand. You removed it and looked at him through your lashes, expectantly.

"Anything else?" he asked, feigning boredom. You smiled. It had been very easy, you hadn't even had to convince him.

"Yes! You have to clean up her cat litter."

The day of your trip, you left everything ready so that when he arrived at night, Tommy would find things easily.

He opened your apartment door and stuck his head in doubtfully, there was no sign of the furry little beast. He was having flashbacks to the last time he stayed over, when Cat started running around the house making weird noises as if she was possessed by Satan himself. Tommy still felt chills remembering how the cat jumped into the bedroom moving sideways with her tail twisted while she howled. You couldn’t stop laughing, used to see your cat doing that almost every day, but Tommy kept saying that he witnessed a demonic possession that night.

But at that moment there were no howls or strange noises. In fact, everything was quiet. One of those silences that he had experienced so many times in his life before. The kind of silence that does not bode well. Tommy squared his shoulders, he wasn't going to get carried away by his superstitious ideas. It was just a cat. He would come in, give her the pill and some water, and then he would leave. Fast and clean.

As he approached the corner where the hallway turned to the left at a ninety-degree angle he stopped. Your cat liked to hide there before jumping like a lion hunting for its prey on Tommy's legs. He still had the scar from the last bite, he didn't want to take another one.

This time he was prepared. With a quick movement he stood on the next section of the hallway. But there was nothing. Frowning and feeling a bit ridiculous, Tommy walked through the house looking for the little beast until he found her lying on the sofa.

The cat was curled up in a ball, her head resting on the armrest. Only her green eyes moved following Tommy's movements as he approached her. She seemed kind of off and Tommy couldn't help but feel a tinge of empathy.

“Do you miss Y/N too?” he asked out loud. The cat blinked weakly. "This place feels weird without her around, huh?"

Tommy didn't know what to expect, some kind of reaction or something. The cat remained still, staring at the wall. He gave her one last glance, shrugging and heading to the kitchen. You had placed a note on the refrigerator door with more instructions, attached with a magnet in a miniature version of the Eiffel Tower that Tommy brought you from Paris.

He ran his fingertips over your handwriting, thinking. He was going to take you to France the next time you had holidays. The rest of the refrigerator was covered with polaroids of you smiling at the camera, the two of you together, you with your friends and family... and the cat.

'Ah yes, the cat.' Tommy remembered, turning around.

The food and water bowls were full, as if she hadn't touched them all day. That was strange, the feeling of something not going right increased. Grabbing a clean bowl, Tommy put some soft food in it and inserted the pill, completely camouflaged, before placing it on the floor in front of the sofa.

"Eat," he indicated authoritatively.

He was a man used to being obeyed in everything, everyone did except you. You were the only one who could handle him like a rag doll and he wouldn’t complain. There was no doubt that this cat was yours, she didn't even look at the food.

Tommy grunted, losing his patience. He grabbed the bowl with one hand and the cat with the other, pushing them together as much as he could. The animal did not resist, after a few minutes a third of the food was gone, including the pill, but she refused to swallow more. "As you wish," he murmured, leaving the remains of food next to the other bowls.

When he looked into the small laundry room where you had the cat's litter box, his heart skipped a beat. Everything was a mess, the floor was full of poop and vomit.

"Fucking hell," he muttered under his breath. Then he returned to the living room, ready to give the cat the reprimand of her life but stopped short. He hadn't noticed before but there were also traces of vomit on the living room floor. "Shit."

Just then his phone started ringing. Your name appeared on the screen. He cleared his throat and answered.

"Hello Tommy" your voice sounded happy although somewhat tired. "How are you doing, honey?"

"Good. I gave the pill to the beast, don't worry. Are you okay?" He spoke as fast as he could, trying to move the conversation away from the cat.

"Yeah, it's a little boring you know, all day in meetings and now they want to go to have dinner but I don't feel like going. I haven't been able to call you all day, as you can see I haven't stopped.” You let out a small laugh. ”Hey Tommy, thanks for taking care of Cat. It means a lot to me. I have to go, they came to pick me up. I love you!"

You hung up the call before he could say anything back. Leaving the phone on the coffee table, he walked into the balcony, feeling the cold wind against his skin.

Tommy leaned on the balustrade as he lit a cigarette, smoking slowly. You didn’t like him smoking inside the house, or smoking in general, but that was his problem and you couldn’t change it. This way the balcony became his territory. Once he finished, he went back inside, closing the door behind him. The last thing he needed was the cat jumping out the window.

He started cleaning everything the best he could while debating whether to call you again and tell you everything, that something was wrong with your cat, or try to fix it on his own. Yes, he would do that better. Tommy was a man of resources, he wasn't going to ruin your trip and worry you if he could take care of it.

After making sure everything was clean and the cat had food and water, he left your house, relieved that he wouldn't have to spend another second alone with that animal.

When he returned the next day and found both the food and water intact, he headed to the living room, where Cat was still lying in the same position as the day before. He felt his soul leaving his body.

Tommy swallowed and sat on the couch next to the cat. He approached his hand slowly to touch her soft fur, expecting the cat to hiss like she always did when he got too close to her. That would mean everything was fine. But that didn’t happen, the feline's only reaction was shuddering and letting out a pitiful whimper so soft that if he hadn't been sitting next to her, Tommy wouldn't have heard it.

Shit, shit, shit. He covered his mouth with his hand, his brain working at maximum power. He had to do something. Being aware of how important that cat was to you, if something bad happened to her... he didn't even want to imagine your reaction.

Without wasting another second, he dialed May Carleton’s number, the veterinarian who sometimes treated his horses. After explaining the situation, she told him to bring Cat into the clinic to take a look at her. Tommy picked up the cat in his arms, wrapped in a blanket, and held her to his chest like one does when cradling a baby. The poor thing let him do it, too weak to complain.

The drive from your house to the clinic was frantic, Tommy drove like a madman and once there he skipped the line in the waiting room, entering directly and leaving the bundle on the metal table. "Thomas, you can't sneak in like this," said May while putting on a pair of clean latex gloves.

"It's an emergency," he said, pointing to the metal table.

The vet's expression changed from annoyance to concern the moment she laid her eyes on the poor creature. "Okay, Thomas. I'll take over from here, why don't you wait outside?"

It turned out that she had eaten some plant that's poisonous to cats. This had caused her intestine and some other organs to inflame, or something like that. At least they had discovered it in time to help her.

The first thing Tommy did when he got back to your apartment was throwing away all the plants. The second thing was not taking his blue eyes off from Cat for a minute during the next three days.

At the end of the week you couldn’t wait any longer to go back home. You called Tommy several times but he didn't pick up the phone. Every time you had talked to him in the past few days he always told you that everything was going great. You had a hard time believing it. In about twenty minutes you’ll be home and you could finally hug your baby Cat and take a shower, in that order.

You stopped at the entrance of your home, leaving the suitcase and your shoes next to Tommy’s. He's here after all, you thought. The lights were off, all of them except for the one in the living room. You walked towards there and what you saw made your heart fill with love.

Tommy was on the sofa, fast asleep. Curled against his side was Cat, sleeping too. She was holding Tommy’s hand between her paws. You covered your mouth with your hand, hiding your smile. They were too adorable. Never had you thought the day in which the two of them could get along would come. Seeing them sleeping together seemed like a dream.

You took your phone and started taking pictures of them. The next week you would print one to put it on your fridge door, a new moment to remember.

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby #tommy shelby x y/n #modern!tommy shelby #thomas shelby imagine #tommy shelby one shot #tommy shelby fluff #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders au #peaky blinders modern!au #modern!au #soleilceirinen writes

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chrisevansonly · 6 months

Text

𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒌𝒔𝒈𝒊𝒗𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒄𝒓𝒂𝒛𝒚 | 𝒐𝒔𝒄𝒂𝒓 𝒑𝒊𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒊

☁︎ oscar piastri x female reader

☁︎ oscar is experiencing thanksgiving with your family for the first time….and boy is it crazy

☁︎ no warnings just fluff and maybe a tad overwhelmed oscar lol

☁︎ i can’t believe october is starting to come to an end, these little fall fics have been making me so happy, i think ill do another one in december too to get ready for christmas 🤭 p.s thanksgiving in canada is beginning of october in contrast to the USA which is end of november in case you’re confused :)

Thanksgiving was a little chaotic in your family, when everyone gathered together and all sat down for the annual fall meal, only this year it was your boyfriend Oscar’s first time attending it with you. He knew you got your vibrant and extroverted personality from your parents, but now that he looks back on it, he’s pretty sure your entire family played a part in it.

“Oscar when do you and my little sunshine plan on having children hmm?” your grandma asked, causing you to choke on your water

“Nana!”

Oscar laughed patting your back gently to help with your coughing

“I think whenever the time is right, we’re in no rush”

“Well you’re only getting older!”

You shook your head at the old woman’s antics your mother stepping in before you

“Mom, leave these two alone, they’re both still in their early twenties, no babies for them, eat your turkey”

“Never too early to have a baby, such nonsense!”

Leaning over to Oscar you looked at him apologetically

“I’m sorry, she’s very persistent”

He only smiled, kissing your forehead as he squeezed your knee under the table

“I don’t mind at all, it’ll happen someday anyway”

The two of you may have been young but you both knew that you were endgame for each other, there was no one else on earth more perfect for either of you, and everyone was starting to see that.

“So Oscar, i’ve been watching your season, looks pretty good this year”

It was your father’s time to chime in, Oscar nodding as he gave your father 100% of his attention.

“Yes, it’s been going really well, the car feels good this year, so i’m looking forward to finishing the next few races and then having some time off” he replied, a bit hesitantly as he always did with your dad

“That’s good to hear, I’d love to come see a race sometime”

You smiled

“You should come to Las Vegas with us dad! You and mom have been wanting to go back there so why not?”

In hindsight you should have asked Oscar first if he was okay with this, but knowing him, he wouldn’t mind at all. He loved spending time with your family as much as you did with his.

“Oh that’s a great idea honey, i’m sure we can figure something out!”

The rest of dinner went off without a hitch, calm conversation and laughter shared between everyone, you could already feel the classic thanksgiving hangover hitting you as you lounged on the couch tucked into Oscar’s side, your eyes heavy and tired.

“NO YOU JUST SLAPPED ME WITH ANOTHER PICK UP UP 4 IM GONNA KILL YOU!!!”

Oscar laughed hearing your little cousins playing uno in the other room as you rolled your eyes. If anyone was the loudest on these holidays it was the kiddos.

“YEAH WELL YOU JUST SUCK AT THE GAME THEN!”

It wasn’t long before your aunt went in there and told them off, quiet chatter resuming after the mini scream fest over the classical card game had ensued. Truth be told you were nervous for Oscar to experience thanksgiving with your family because you weren’t always put together and fancy, you were loud and energetic, your family loved playing games, having treasure hunts and playing games of charades.

You knew deep down it wouldn’t everyone’s cup of tea but Oscar wouldn’t have it any other way. He’d never felt more comfortable and at home like he did with you when you visited your family. It made him feel normal and accepted, he didn’t have to worry about the media, the race track or the constant murmurs going around the paddock.

“How was your first thanksgiving experience love?”

He smiled down at you, his finger tips running up and down your back

“I loved it, really it was so much, I can’t wait to keep experiencing this craziness with you”

“Oscar loves the thanksgiving craziness…never thought i’d say that”

The Aussie laughed leaning down to kiss you

“Well now I get to experience a different craziness from yours everyday”

“Hey!”

You frowned jokingly but he was quick to once again bring his lips to yours, deepening the kiss enough to have your face flush, thankfully your family too enamoured in their own activities to notice your little display of affection.

“I love you and all your craziness darling, it’s what makes you, you.” he stated softly, taking his time to admire you

“I love you more.”

Oscar had all he needed right in front of him, he’d never felt more welcomed and appreciated than he did right now, curled up on the couch at your parents house after a delicious dinner, something he would continue to be apart of for years…and years to come.

#rueswrites #ruesanswers #ruesanons<3 #ruesasks #oscar piastri x y/n #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri fluff #oscar piastri drabble #formula 1 masterlist #formula 1 fanfiction #formula 1 fanfic #oscar piastri f1 #f1 drabble #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine

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anantaru · 1 year

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THREE SECONDS

— ꒰ synopsis ꒱ — as your relationship was ready to take the next step, itto wanted you to meet his granny who had raised him for the majority of his life and was beyond thrilled to show you where he grew up in as a child, or especially how cozy his old bedroom seemed to be.

— ꒰ a/n ꒱ — this fic stems from a little thirst i wrote a while ago and since i adored that idea so so much i just had to make a whole one shot for it, didn’t expect it to get so long though, still, enjoy! <3

— ꒰ word count ꒱ — 5.9k

— ꒰ warnings ꒱ — [ex]plicit, fem! reader, messy, whiny itto but also rough itto, riding, fingering, he's insatiable, the horny took him hostage, slight size difference (i mean he's huge), semi! public + his granny is next door preparing dinner.

arataki itto, the one, the only— a man, who could never be easily defeated in the eyes upon his very self.

by the same token, he, in no circumstances regarded anything as a real believed problem which he would have to face in his life sooner or later on, to a higher notice, was he someone who'd pick out the clear positive in most heeded aspects and proceed to give his furthermost, unswerving best.

for you, he was everything and anything, all at once. The bordering, ingrained proximity between you both could have been esteemed like a mind altering drug— neither of you was marginally capable to keep a distance between each other, not when your relationship carried on to bring forth the best of your abilities.

arataki itto— the love of your life, your soulmate, a man who, to the actual core, triumphantly won your heart and sung a promise to protect it from danger of any kind.

be that as it may, tonight, your entire relationship had all gotten a different meaning in his life because of an undisclosed exponent, itto came into hazardous contact with his first real enemy in a long time— the name of the weighty villain was well known, ponderously soliloquized upon the brimming nations of teyvat, the revolting mischief;

anxiety.

now, to remain logical and give the full picture— today was the prized day where you were going to lastly make acquaintance with the person who had raised him for the larger number of his being— his granny, who graciously took him in as a little oni and fondly watched after him with peerless faith and love in this world.

and despite that, unbeknownst to itto, you were, without no holds barred, feeling the same level of distress. It wasn't unnatural to sought after such a devoted step in a relationship— on the flip side can it become undoubtedly frightening and alarming, singularly when it was a striking indicator to remark just how dead serious you both conceived your relationship and its fancied continuance.

when the evening befell the nation of inazuma in its brilliant illustrious artistry, you had met up with your timid boyfriend to then, fidgety stride to his grannies small sized house which had been a partially shade far outside of inazuma city.

your zooming thoughts— like cannon balls, were in abysmal need of required relaxation, in reality, you truly had no reason to be this frightened because even though you had never met her prior to this day, you heard nothing but subliming wonderful deeds about the woman in question, her accepting care and understandings, the way she did not see any differences in humans and oni— viewing them as equal.

"hey no sleeping!" itto suddenly barks, "wait wait are you feeling sick? we can turn around and sit for a while." oh, he sounds nervous but you insist you're fine, because truthfully, you had just reached your destination and you won't be defeated by something as insignificant as nervousness— it's alright, yet you wonder if your hands could please stop sweating so much? ignore it ignore it, there's no way back now.

in front of the door made of otogi wood, your boyfriend lessened his handsome face to meet you, holding your pretty eyes with his diamond shaped pupils. You easily allow yourself permission to cross the fleeting words in your thoughts to run over his question, what he had asked was indeed chucklesome, in a way that you weren't for certain if the spelled out sentence was solely pointed towards your person or if he was in reality questioning himself. "yes i'm alright— are you though?"

the jocular idea of turning around did not cross your mind, not when you came this far and speaking forthcomingly, the pronounced concern on itto's scrunched expression was much larger and dignified than your own, yet despite that, said tangible worry wasn't one bathed in hesitancy or doubts, more— in an enthusiastic procedure that you were, at last, meeting such an important person in his life.

"of- of course i am!" he blabbers, "do i not look okay?!" yeah.. he must be thoroughly relaxed, right? that must be the obvious case, though he was actively waving his hand in the air— yet in front of his cheeks, he made sure he's covering himself, so you wouldn't get a singular chance to catch him blush in a full scarlet pitch, "why— why the hell shouldn't i be?"

"you seem nervous." you bluntly stated but teased, firmly deepening the eye contact and archons, how flustered itto could become when you won't tear your enthralling eyes off him, "— or scared." you carry on to unfitly taunt your lover, sneakily drawing down a firm grin but leaving your brows quirked up light heartedly, "whenever you're experiencing one of those two emotions, your voice gets a little higher, you know?"

"wha-" he interjects, "it doesn't!" for a crisp second, itto came to terms with his graspable frame of mind— because why should he hide his agitation from you? and then the straightforward tension that had been viciously eating him up from the inside out ceased to exist, "not true!" now, come now, "not me!" it had blurred itself out when he got ruminated with a sudden contagious laugh from you while caressing his arm to soothe his worries once more.

"yeah, i can see that." these are some mean turn of events to play with your boyfriends sensitive feelings like that, he figured, so he let his strong hands shelter your soft cheeks in a heart beat, "i'm never scared of anything." he's unnerved, back to his confident self.

"never ever ever, in a million ever never years!"

"you're crazy." you laugh and offer him a signature smile, freely blustering out a sheltered breath as you humanely lean into his left palm— itto flashes you his pearly white teeth and his thumb was lightly tapping on your plump bottom lip before placing a sensual kiss on top.

curiously enough, he never missed the chance to do that, to flip his thumb over your lips with a large smile, so he could lead you through what he was originally planning to do— to smooth you.

"lets get moving m'lady." he refrains, behaving a split amount differently, in all respects energized, "we're already in front of the door."

"you know what i meant!" he pipes up in an immediate rebuttal while angrily stomping his feet on the ground, banteringly pinching your hip, "ouch!" you loudly squeak out in surprise but itto was quicker— because he directly then knocked on the wooden door so you couldn't get back at him without letting his granny see it too.

his coruscating eyes, they expectantly bunch up while actively awaiting for his granny to open the large door to his childhood home, the place, were no matter what past memories, whether good or bad, had been crafted.

"dear, is that you itto?" you paid attention to an older ladies puny asserting voice upon a small space between door and frame, revealed was a short and on the face of it, feeble woman, appearing from behind. "granny! oh granny!" itto loudly cheers and muses, "you sure took your time granny!" this was an all in all cherished attribute you treasured about itto's entire personality— while surely, it by no means has been spread amongst the crowds that he was known for his loud and sparkling persona, but observing his innocent delight when encountered with his parental figure, openly fostered a total gladden in you— it's because you love him, just how he was.

in redirected regard of your own self, you didn't dare to move a single inch— as if frozen to the cold ground, though be that as it may, you could proceed with your reasoning and refer to it as the 'not well regarded accessory' to your continuous pestering tenseness that wickedly sauntered through head to toe.

but on a positive note, it was beneficial enough for itto to be this tall and large in comparison to your own frame, meaning you were capable to easily slip behind his back in hiding.

"this is who i've been telling you about." damn it, a genuine smile plucked the outer region of his lips as he largely stepped aside to reveal you like a gift from the heavens, his hands embarrassingly pointing towards you.

before you can say anything at all, itto had gladly taken over the role of the awkward introduction process himself and introduced you to his lovely granny.

again, thanks to the electro archon for your perfect boyfriend.

"it is such a deep pleasure of meeting you, dear." whatever it may be now, the woman conveyed an immediate tranquillizing quell which had brightly subdued your tensed muscles. "the pleasure really is all mine, miss!" extending your hand to her, she slowly lunged forward to shake it as you introduced yourself again.

now, in retrospect, this entire time, you had been tremendously nervous— highly strung, repeatedly shifting in your shuddering stance from left foot to right foot, right foot to left foot, though now, as you walked into her small home— with itto being a gentleman and closing the door shut behind you both, you at present had felt like you were truly welcomed in her abode.

(major mental sticker for the next time: don't let the useless negativity consume your goddamn mind, okay?)

well, back to business.

throughout the time, itto's sizable hand was, no matter what, situated solidly on the region above your behind, lovingly stationed on your lower back while he guided you to the homely warm and restful living room.

when you listlessly skimmed through the many decorations of the place, you discovered a framed picture of itto as a child next to his granny, it wasn't difficult to see their emotions through the stilled memory, both were marvelously happy and utterly fulfilled— grateful, with a squishy onikabuto plushie being sponged and pressed into itto's chest.

how long have you been staring at the frame? you can't recall, but fortunately to you, you got drawn back to the present reality when your boyfriend pinched your arm. His grandma— such a warm hearted lady, had affectionately assembled two beverages meant for you as she further beckoned you two to take a seat on the mellow couch.

"this is quite embarrassing." she weirdly was in a panicked stance about something rather awful, even going as far as to idly enclose her slender arms around herself, shaking, "what is it granny? are you sick?"

itto pucks himself into the seat with concern, yet striving to stand up right again and aid her in whatever was the critical problem at hand, "oh no! dear." she worrisomely shakes her head and her cheeks irradiated a scarlet tint, "but the dinner isn't ready yet!"

"that's all?!" itto exhales enormously from his chest— to a greater extent, one could say he was about to pass out from the thought of having something serious happen without him being in on it. Despite your rocky state of emotions from beforehand, you were now hopeful and viewed this polished opportunity as your sweet time to shine.

"can i be of help?" you bring forth self assured confidence in your tone color, "i might not be as skilled as you but i can try!" sliding the glass back on the coffee table, you were ready to get up and aid in the kitchen— it was not a big deal and you were always happy to help, especially when it was someone who was regarded as the closest family member to your boyfriend.

having said that, the wishing reply you had longed for, wasn't actually what happened, "there's no need dear." she sweetly giggled around her words, being truly flustered to the core by your sweet attempt to help her out, pretty much warming up with you already— you were lovely in her eyes, "and i'm certain itto desperately wants to show you around, isn't that right?"

you, of course, won't argue with that, "so damn right!" itto was full of happiness, and now, he's pushing himself up from his seat, additionally inviting you over to grab onto his hand so he could lead you around everything, "there's much to show after all!" with your hands quietly placed on your thighs, you feel nothing but giddy and take his palm, but rationally, you'd rather spend time with her so you could get to know her better.

that certainly was the best idea, but inside of you, the sultry skittish feeling of watching itto like that— so happy and excited, was priceless in your very eyes, maybe ... you could sneak in a few fleeting kisses before having to come back, hmmm, this does sound quite bewitching now, doesn't it?

on the way out of the living room, you were met once again with objects from his past, all pridefully shown and displayed around the tiny corridor he was leading you in. Next, on the very left, you found yourself in front of a wooden door that wasn't like any other, it was, quite frankly, messed up with what seemed to be symbols clumsily drawn on with a bunch of pencils— very itto typical, you humbly added.

"there we go." he's so excited, happy, euphoric— are there any other ways to possibly describe his emotions right now because in itto's perspective none of them were doing it justice, "the room of a real oni!"

"aww!" you accept the entry and let him close the door, leaving you both sheltered in place. his room was bigger than you had actually expected; a small, cleaned bed lovingly decorated with two larger plushies on top— one specifically caught your eyes, it was the same one that you saw earlier on the picture with his grandma, the onikabuto exemplar, while the other was funnily resembling a ruin guard of some sorts?

without much to say, both were worn off, he must've played with them in his childhood days.

"what do you think?" he quirks a brow, "to be honest, i was a little worried it wouldn't do me justice." you roll your eyes in the back of your head, what a guy.

at the prospect of being quite the stunner at taunting or playing with your boyfriend, you breathe out euphorically before speaking again, "the bed is so tiny, how little you were itto!"

"tiny?! it's not tiny!" he stomps forward, "this isn't tiny! or is it?"

was this the beginning of a heated debate? not really, but maybe a little. to elaborate himself further without requiring words, itto was swift and eager to carelessly wind away the dear plushies to awkwardly drop his wholeness onto the frail bed and archons— let it be known that the old woman outside had trouble hearing because those damned squeaking sounds were violent, dropping off the walls with an intensity you haven't heard before.

was itto about to break the bed? no no, you suppose. hopefully not.

"looky looky." he thoughtlessly leans back into the silken cushions but props himself up with his elbows so his pretty view on you would turn out even prettier, "it's large, just like me." — how can this man be for real sometimes, you wonder, snorting out a silly laugh on how impossibly comical he looked right now, with the majority of his legs hanging out of the bed frame.

"it sure does." you feign your engaging sentencing, silently getting close and walking towards him to sit, somewhere— which, uh, wasn't possible because he took the entire space.

literally, how could he not?

so, instead, you had, emphasizing heavily on the 'had', resulted to therefore straddling his hips with your thighs on each side of him. You're leaning forward and to that— your dress instantly responded with unknowingly pining up and revealing more of your smooth legs. Due to this unseen course of events, itto thumbed down entirely, now laying flat with you mounting on top.

the shallow heave that unbuttons from his throat when you declined your head to sweetly plant a semi innocent kiss on his lips, it was overflowing with tension, beyond wishing, so he leaned in— one kiss, two, one more? perhaps a couple.

in a profound refrain, you found yourself relaxed, making out with itto, still largely gentle and shy— if only he wouldn't have began to skim over your body with his hands, up and down in circles, his palms were seizing the movements of you, heatedly glissading over your exposed skin until looming them further back to greedily grab a fistful of your flesh and knead your ass to drag you close.

on purpose or not? but your cunt was now directly brushing on top of his member.

"mmh." you inaudibly whimper into his mouth as you coincidentally rub down on his groin, "ah— i'm sorry." he speaks and unexpectedly drags your pussy over his hidden cock. "fuck-" normally, you're so so careful— fuck, you wouldn't, right? do it on purpose, never.

amusing, you, as a matter of action, did not miss how tensed up itto was, how overwhelmed with the budding pressure in his pants.

how ... he was in his old bedroom, giving his almost painfully growing erection the thing it desired, from you, his cute darling. His breathing had been erratic while his digits further altered your flesh to keep you stilled but surely pressed right on top of his swelling cock.

rationality, here we go, "w-wwwait." his cheeks had a sudden burn with an equal amount of both a higher consciousness of euphoric bliss and clear embarrassment, itto figures that— archons, he might already be done for, the 'little' problem in his pants, how was he supposed to get rid of it before dinner?

"sorry." you cheekily coo and bit your lip back at him, "but you're comfy." cozily wrapping your arms around his neck, maybe another kiss will do it, so you sloppily go down and pull away with a sharp tug on his lower lip. You smile, although sheepish, "we should get up." and whisper the evident.

but unmistakably, if you would've acted out on what you were manifesting, or that you were more than certain you had wholly slicked up your thin panties by now— sensing them stick on your core, you would've blindingly leaned in to whatever you were attempting to do this second.

"wait." oh? this tone was different and you liked it— remembering the cause of it too. Much deeper was the timbre and not in his usual airless color, because itto was dead serious in his shaking utterance, a single word demonstrated a devilish command, "i'm a little—" you follow his eyes with your own and watch the mess in between your sticked together bodies— your dress had been draped up even more and was now pressed up, resting right above the beginning of your ass while itto's pants were extremely tight.

he embarrassingly looks up at you with hesitancy, "oh you know- i think i need a second." and he forcefully exhales his words from his tight chest, "but you are- fantastic." and prolongs his trembling heave right after, "and warm." while he closes his eyes, only a short amount because he had to catch your hips and stop them when you tried to move.

"what are you?!" he groans so loud, too loud— shameless, as you were quick to shush his noisy tongue with your hand clutched around his needy mouth, "shhh, don't talk." you coo, "don't say anything." and he listens carefully, with wide opened eyes, nervously gulping down the assembled saliva, "let me help you out, okay baby?"

finally, fucking finally, he thought, "c-careful." itto mumbles into your hand as you used your other to clumsily open up his pants— pulling down his, with pre cum drowned, boxers, at last freeing his erect cock that was plopping out of the garments.

it's heavy, shading red and the deep blue'ish broad veins on the underside of his girth left nothing left for imagination— your mouth practically watered at the filthy, sinful sight, but it's so tasteful and you wanted to please him right away, maybe suck him off and let him fuck your face, but now— not now, his grandma was literally in the next room and preparing dinner for you, right, almost forgotten!

lets just get this quickly over with and help your handsome boyfriend with his not so little problem— later on there was still additional time, you can always fuck at home, real messy and loud— leaving yourself to him so he was able to pump his seed into you and let it ooze out again.

"ah- baby." his voice sounded impatient and a bit whiny, "it hurts." he grits his teeth and his cheeks burn up, he lifts his hips and softly grinds into you while keeping you down, his face was incredibly red and even the tip of his ears had now visualized the exact same color. There's no way he didn't spend time to think about it too— about the shared fantasy, about pistoling his cock deep into your spongy cunt, it makes him question himself if he can actually pull it off, in this small room with the bed squeaking at every move.

the delirious flutter was risky, but worth it?

"okay, you know what?" he spills out, chasing more relief, "just the tip." he whines, "only the tip, please!" you curiously readjust yourself to rut your cunt on him— on the brink of turning brainless yourself. "you know we wouldn't stop." but the mental image of his tip splitting you roughly had you close your legs around his body, shoving your pussy on his bare cock again.

"but it hurts-" and you shake your head, just wanting to scream that it hurts you too, "i know baby but we can't."

one hundred percent a bad idea— that's what it was in an outer perspective, but how could you ignore his mushroom tip leaving itself get messed up by your arousal— how now, he nudged himself into the flimsy material of your panties to rub his length within your folds, spreading them apart, loving your wet cunt, "five seconds." you can barely hear him say it, "just five seconds." archons, where were the infamous rational thinking skills when you were in dire need of them?

fuck this, rightfully so, "three." now, you start to bargain for the tasteful prize, "four." and itto was determinedly stammering right back at you while his mouth was still covered by your hand. You both cannot believe each other, truly, how desperately needy you were, at this point barely caring anymore when he slowly bumped his drenched cock into your pussy— your underwear by now fully slipped to the side.

"three seconds!" — "oh man .. fine."

you drop your weight before he could finish his words, catching him so off guard was rare in it's own glorious state and you‘re taking his tip further, making the man underneath you deeply groan into your hand. "shut up itto!" you laugh and embarrassingly snort a little, "i'm sorry!" this whole lively situation had a comical sense to it because when else are you fucking your boyfriend in his old bedroom— in a bed that was way too small for any of you, but maybe that's the fun part of being this close together, fusing your skins as one.

you go silent, overwhelmed and shaking, to counter attack your natural body reactions you forcefully bite down on your bottom lip to withstand the upcoming moans, "fuck, fuck!" for comfort, you lean into him as his tip naturally slips in and out of your warm pussy, in and out, in and out, catching a glimpse of his already hooded eyes. "only the tip." you jokingly repeat, "mhm the tip." he moans back into your hand while you felt him drool on you— because there you were flaunting your tits at him, rigidly pressing them into his chest with your pointy nipples finding friction.

itto shuts his eyes on the sprouting frustration closing around his belly, "mhm, i can't believe this." he almost laughs, as if to ease you both down in his own silly ways, "me neither." he further molds his hands over your hips to hold you in a precise way. Truthfully, your trembling thighs were burning and sore, firmly splattered with arousal and exposed to him.

the position you were currently in wasn't kind to you, if anything it was becoming harder to remain focused so you wouldn't end up suckling in more inches without realizing.

you carefully move away your hand and give him enough space to breathe more sizable and damn— the sight in front of you was a fucking longed one, downright unreal, it wasn't able to be somewhat framed or painted into words.

itto whatsoever, his face had spiraled into complete redness, granted, he was trying his utmost finest to be good and not greedy, though the punishing demonstrated fantasy of bulging his cock into your sensitivity was always there— his shaking hands clearly giving it away.

"ah- this is awesome!" itto clears his throat and needfully runs his knuckles over your skin, reaching your behind— two of his fingers ran down to your folds to spread them and leave him with more room to stay inside, "yeah.. this is better." he heaves and you whine because it really does feel better that way— you've been plenty wet by now and if you weren't this patient, you surely would've fucked him into oblivion by now.

you hide your pleased face in his neck, "i can't believe we're doing this." and admit, arching your back a little (for good measure) before slowing one of your hands over his damp forehead where a couple of his hair strands were sticking onto, due to the excessive amount of sweat, "i think I'm dreaming!" though it's stupefying, itto gladly relishes in the smug satisfaction, claiming you one inch further, a bulged type of sweet and honeyed pride was delivered when he let you do it— slurp up one more inch, ambling his hips differently for a finer angle.

you kiss itto's lips to soothe his gravelly groans, in addition to your own squeaky huffed out cries— he's so big and heavy that when you move just a little, it's as if he's strapping you off every single inch of control in your body, as if he's, on purpose, targeting the plushy splotches in your walls.

you grab onto another inch as he passionately groans into your mouth— more please more, bracing yourself, letting his tongue run free into yours, he continues it, pitching his hips further and spreads his thighs to rub you into him while his eyes flicker with lust and so do yours.

you just cannot think straight anymore, it's not possible nor required, you are so fucking fucked right now, both deliriously good and blazingly bad.

itto thinks it still isn't enough, his big cock was tingling in your walls and it should be criminal on how fucking fine your closed insides were, ravenously bordering on him and gripping him— it doesn't even compare to other instances in his life because you both couldn't keep your hands to yourself and wanted to straight up— lose your minds and bodies.

a hiss spills from his throat and it appears like your legs are about to give up on you— your tits too, bounce in tune to your actions and surge eminent bliss into your veins. You find yourself entranced when he crowds you and your toes curl at another easy shove forward.

the painstakingly grab on your hips was to leave bruises, his knuckles turning white and his dick shimmers with your arousal that you sink down further.

you adjust and squeeze around him, bending over when breaking off the kiss, your wet lips twitching in a shameless grin as itto chuckled right under you. The lower side was rammed with your transparent liquids puffing out your pussy— itto's eyes were blown wide and he makes sure to always remember to stretch your ass while you look so adorable above him, creaming on his cock that was now completely clashed into you.

hold on.

what happened to the three stated seconds? or just the tip?

three or none, oh no— not this, please no, archons above please send us mercy because how much fucking time has passed since you started this succulent and mouthwatering gamble?

"fuck— just like that." itto mouths without a single care behind those eyes, "you're the prettiest baby, you know that?" he lifts himself into you and turns the bed into nothing more than a squeaky noisy problem. It could've turned out real embarrassing if not one of you had turned on your hazy braincells.

"itto wait!" you foolishly whine, "shit, too loud!" he bottoms out and smacks his balls into you, remembering the obscene situation as the bed loudly creaked. "shit, shit shit." your mouth clashes onto his with saliva bubbling out of the outer parts of your lips. Yet you don't stop, instead you grind your pretty cunt on him and smear his filth over your soft walls.

"do you think?" you're concerned for the obvious, stilling yourself, "no no, don't worry baby." itto speaks up, "are you sure? we were very loud right now." he captures your body in between his arms to twitch inside your core, you on the other hnd never adjusted to his large dick— you just couldn't stop pulsing on his length, it's swilled with your liquids. "i got you, i'm sure she didn't hear anything."

while you do want to place your greatest trust into him, you weren't stupid, but amidst the sinfulness of it all, you nod your head at him. "we need to finish this quickly." whispering from above, your warm breath fans over his skin.

itto doesn't answer, there was no need for it, not now at least. He reaches up to lift your chin to lead you towards his lips and you cry into the sloppy kiss while his other hand dampened down on your folds, roughly stimulating you with his knuckles. "i- fuck, i-got-you." he finally says in between groans and urges you to continue, "i'll make you cum on me." his words came out in a stitched together grunt.

his mind— it was gone and clouded and another moan leaves him right after at the galvanizing sight of you. Itto braces himself and leads you to heaven, it's overbearing and frustrating, but the new punctuated jolts were closing down on your sensitive cores, they were tempting and pressing on your beating thuds.

all you could think of was for him to please please go faster, but it wasn't possible, not anymore. okay, well, it was but, you would equally be busted and you were sure the embarrassment of being caught by his fucking grandma during the act alone would give you terrible nightmares for years on end.

his knuckles dig into your shining folds and rub you fiercely while taking you with his cock. By how rough itto was fucking you now you had to close your hand around his mouth again so he could freely grunt and moan— vocalize his pleasure to you so you can latch onto him finer, constrict on his shaft and milk him dry until he's wet of a white ring of arousal, the clear determination to finally cum was genuinely all you both could think of.

you cry yourself into his shoulder when he pulls you to him, fisting his palms into your draped up dress to practically rush you back and forward— using you as a fucktoy to drench his cock in. His hips are stuttering and you knew he was close— because in truth, you were too, the continuous intrusion of his sensual tip on your pleased insides felt so fucking fine you thought you were actually going to tear up from it.

it's when it began to burn as he continuously smacked his hips into you, both tightly squished into each others embrace and melting into your bodies. You were drooling on your entire chin and then it happened, bringing you back to the overstimulation which was twice as powerful, twice as deep— pulling out your climax from your strangled rooted core as you violently clenched on his heavy cock, your orgasm thundering over you.

"too much, too much!" you whisper cry on him and itto plants one of his hands on the back of your head to squish you close as he climaxed too, sealing his lips as you pressed your hand into him. "I'm so close— so close so close." his hips were still going but slower, his calloused palm holding you down, guiding you where he required you to release his seed, paint your walls with silken white and calm your inflamed skin.

"fuck!" he moans and his eyes roll back, "inside— im inside you." itto feels empty but fulfilled, the compressed position was in any other occasion insanely unfitting and uncomfortable, but for you there wasn't a better one. His breathing was hot and the entire room smelled of sex and filth, the spilling ropes of cum were seeping right out of you.

the both of you were utterly panting and damn, itto came a lot, cummed as deep as he could and his grunts were still there— low and under the shadowy rasps, leaving it to you to finish him and he relishes in it, entirely, when being milked by a warm cunt such as yours, a claimed one, by him alone.

it's silent before your thoughts come back swirling, heated but never forgotten, you prop yourself with your arms and smile at him, but then it hit you.

"no no." you panic and your eyes glue down on your not so innocent lower region, "we made a mess." he smirks back at you, all puffed out and blowing. "how do we cover that?!"

you lift your hips and are now presented with the post nut problem, vision still glassed up and shaded by how good you were being fucked just moments ago. "wait let me-" itto helps you lay down while he sits up on the bed, his cock limply coated in arousal, "do you need- uh, wait!"

he swiftly searches around the room and finds a towel, hastily handing it to you, "thanks." you shyly mumble, still sore, "how do i look?" you ask him jokingly while fixing your make-up simultaneously to rubbing off the crumbling perspiration on your body.

"like you just had the best orgasm in the world." he sings, putting up his pants while helping you as much as he could. "you're one to talk." you tease, breathless and still hot, pulling down your dress as itto reaches out his arm to you, aiding you to stand up.

a hand falls heavy on his palm and you curse yourself for not figuring out sooner that you were thoroughly sore and done— swelling and used, especially your muscles were burning, searingly aching, "oh— easy now." itto could do this all day, watch you fix yourself after he fucked your brains out— minus the doing it in his old bedroom. His inflated ego breaks records, "are you okay?" but the concern in his voice was sweet, "y-yes."

"lets eat dinner then!" you almost forgot about that.

he rubs his belly and you nod your head in agreement, spouting out a wheezy laugh while you began to fix his hair, "— and hope your grandma didn't hear a thing." and end his sentencing at last.

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leviscolwill · 8 months

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glue song

pairing: trent alexander arnold x reader

summary: after going picnicking with your little cousins, you feel like your relationship with your boyfriend has taken a new step (wc: 1k)

contents: established relationship, talk abt having kids, so fluffy you might die in it, suggestive ending i guess ??

note: i'm in a trent mood lately, just look at him being so babygirl. i want to be his controversially young gf so bad (gasly core)

reblogs and feedback are very very much appreciated 🫶

now playing: glue song by beebadoobee and clairo

when your cousin asked you to babysit her kids for the afternoon, you immediately accepted. you were very close to your family but still felt like you didn't see your cousin or her twin daughters enough so you jumped on the occasion.

trent had already met your family quite a few times but when you told him the news, he was already planning the whole day ahead wanting to make the most out of the afternoon you'll spend with olivia and amalia.

he'd prepared custom sandwiches for them according to their taste and he forced you to bake cookies with him for them.

"come on it'll be fun." he practically pleaded.

"but trent you know that we can't bake to save our life."

"we ? who is we ? i'm a great baker." he replied side eyeing you while grabbing every ingredient needed. it was the truth, sort of. trent was not a great baker but he was definitely better than you, his cookies were edible (most of the time) and even good, sometimes.

but baking with trent was always a hustle, you tried to focus on the recipe while he wanted to wing it, saying it would taste better this way.

"you should listen to the real chef here love, it's not a big deal if we don't put the exact same amount of vanilla you know. now, be a good sous-chef and grab the whip for me please" he told you with a cocky grin, he knew how you would react to his words, exactly how he wanted you to.

you grabbed the whip only to playfully hit his shoulder with it while trent dramatically whined that you wanted him injured for the start of the season.

it didn't surprise you that your boyfriend was this excited about spending his day with actual kids, the way he was behaving like one right now.

after at least an hour of battling with trent, and cleaning your flour-maculated kitchen, your cookies were ready. and after tasting one (for research purposes, of course), you could say they were good, 'probably the best thing ever baked' in your boyfriend's words.

after a while, your shared house's doorbell finally rang, and trent nearly jumped out of his seat to open the door, you followed him and welcomed your cousin and her 7 year old daughters.

"thank you so much for babysitting them today, they're very happy to see their favorite aunty and uncle." your cousin beamed while giving you their bags, heavy with toys.

"we're also happy to spend some time with them, we have a great afternoon planned." you replied with a smile. trent who had his hand on your waist was quick to agree with you too.

after olivia and amalia hugged their mum goodbye, trent was already grabbing your bags full of sandwiches, sweets, and freshly baked cookies.

"uncle trent did you know my team won the school's football competition in may." amalia beamed at trent while she told him how she scored the winning goal for her team, thanks to her sister's brilliant assist. seeing trent and your little cousins get along this well made your chest feel warm at the scene, you almost wished for today to never end, although it was far from over.

once you settled your large blanket in the park, your boyfriend chose. you gave olivia and her sister their sandwiches with a kiss on their forehead. you turned around to take your own when you met trent eyes and his lovesick smile.

"why are you looking at me like that ?" you asked him with a shy smile as you felt the blush creep up your cheeks.

"do i need a reason to stare at my girl now ?" he answered, quickly pressing a kiss on your lips.

"ewww." olivia covered her eyes in disgust, while amalia pretended to throw up.

you laughed at their dramatic reactions and took a bite of the sandwich prepared by trent.

after the girls finished their sandwiches, they tasted the homemade cookies and absolutely loved them.

"of course they're perfect, they were made by liverpool's best baker." trent beamed pointing at himself. you rolled your eyes while olivia and amalia laughed at his ridiculous claim.

when it was finally time to go, you cleaned up everything while your cousins started walking to the car holding each other's hands.

"come on let's go home, my three princesses." he said, while bringing your hand to his lips to kiss the back of it and kiss the side of your head while you started walking, holding hands like teens.

after your cousin picked up olivia and amalia, and thanked you again, the house seemed oddly silent. not the awkward kind of silence but a comforting one, the kind of silence you often shared with trent when words weren't needed.

"i really had fun today you know." trent broke the silence, stroking your hair.

"yeah, i noticed that, i'm glad you get on well with them."

"i think you'd be a great mum." he said almost in a whisper. you did not expect this. trent and you have been together for over a year already, but you've never had this talk.

"are you trying to tell me something ?" you asked, looking up at him.

"i don't know, not really, i was just thinking that maybe-" you put an end to his suffering quickly when you noticed his stammering.

"i'm joking trent... i think you'd be a great dad, the best actually."

he looked at you lovingly and kissed you in a manner that was definitely different than when the girls were here.

his kisses started trailing down your neck as you moved your head to the side, implicitly telling him to keep going.

"should we start practicing then mmh ?"

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charlesf1leclerc · 9 months

Note

hey! i saw the request open and i was wondering if u could do an ollie bearman x reader who is younger than him, maybe 2/3 years (1 is ok too if you’re not comfortable with 2/3) and she’s like the youngest leclerc (if it’s possible) their relationship is private.

they decide to go public to stop the random shipping with other girls that some fan do (maybe the reader/ollie are annoyed or think it’s disrespectful) but she’s also scared/insicure that the fans would hate/judge her for being younger that ollie or something like that

thank if u do it!!

Summary- a beach vacation with you and Ollie and the leclerc fam and the Insta post from hell

Warnings- reader is 16 Ollie is 17, fluff and poorly edited that’s about it.

Authors note- I don’t know seeing the leclerc family and girlfriends out on holiday might of added to my inspo for this hopefully it’s what you wanted tho. Ps this is only part 1 of your request 😉

It was currently summer break the best time of the year in your opinion. You got to spend time with your family and of course your boyfriend Ollie. As you were keeping your relationship out of the public it was very hard for the two of you to find time outside of the track together just the two of you in love. It was a troubling topic, the topic of announcing your relationship as you were already in the public eye because of your brothers you knew the hate their girlfriends received just for being their girl friends. Ollie was so well known in the racing world he was so talented so you knew that there would be a commotion if you and he announced you were dating and that did scare you a little. You weren’t going to lie you were hesitant to even date ollie at first you thought he was so handsome and kind but he was 17 almost turning 18 and you had just turned 16 it’s not that big of a gap but with him turning 18 soon you knew you would get hated on for dating a guy older then you and being labeled to young. Surprisingly the leclerc brothers Arthur Lorenzo and Charles all got used to it pretty quickly and have become supportive of your relationship, at first of course they were hesitant being your brothers and all they didn’t think anyone was good for their little sister especially another driver who could crash at any minute and leave their sister alone in tears. But they liked Ollie, especially Arthur who was very close with him from prema so naturally everyone got along well. You and Ollie had been dating for about 7months now, it may be to early to say but you were definitely in love with the boy. Your family had been kind enough to offer you to bring Ollie along on the family vacation considering that their girlfriends were also going to be their, so you both happily accepted a week in the sun, with your family what could go wrong.

Well……

It was a warm day on the beach, everyone was relaxed and tanned that’s for sure. You were in your floral bikini lying down on a beach towel scrolling through your phone. Ollie was having a dip in the ocean along with your other brothers and a few of the girlfriends but some opted to stay on the sand. As you scrolled through Insta you stopped when you saw the page of a F1gossip sight you normally wouldn’t click on them because you already were involved in the world so you knew the truth and didn’t need to read a page of mostly lies. When you clicked on the page a post captured your eye it was of Ollie so naturally intrigued you took a closer look only to see it was a post about dating rumours with another girl something about her being seen out and about in the Ollie bearmans jumper so they had to be together, she was pretty, really pretty and that did look like his jumper, of course this couldn’t be true he’s with you and all this information is coming from the people who though Fernando and Taylor swift were a thing so it can’t be right, right.

You were to engrossed in the picture that you hadn’t noticed Ollie come out of the water to sit on the towel next to you.

“ the waters amazing, you should come in with me babe” he kissed your cheek

“ hmm” you questioned look up at him

“ I said the waters amazing “

“ that’s nice” you nodded focusing back on your phone

“ ok, hey what’s wrong, you know you can tell me anything” he stroked a piece of your hair back behind your ear.

“ it’s nothing, it’s silly”

“ nothings silly if it’s making you upset, look where we are I can’t have you upset on this beautiful holiday, so tell me”

You couldn’t find the right words to tell him without being upset or offending him so instead you handed him your phone with the post up for him to see.

He took the phone from you a scrolled through the photos and then turned to look at you.

“ babe.. I promise you Im not with that girl , that’s not even my jumper because mine is sitting happily in my wardrobe at home, I promise the only girl I spend my time with is you”

“ I know it just makes me…. I don’t know I just want to be the only girl they ship you with, I know that sounds bad”

“ it doesn’t sound bad I want that too because you are the only girl I love , but we can’t control what they post or what they say we just have to trust each other that those posts are fake I could never love anyone as much as I love you” he rubbed your cheek

“ I trust you O i do but it’s hard hiding all the time I don’t want to hide” I sadly laughed

“ me either lest reveal our relationship to the world” he scooted closer towards you

“ but I don’t want that either I don’t want all the hate comments and everything that comes with having a public relationship I just want you”

“ well this is a bit of a dilemma I don’t think we can have both as much as I would like love” he laughed

“ I know we… we’ll just wait a little longer to reveal it and for now I’ll deal with seeing those posts”

“ I’m sorry”

“ Ollie you have nothing to apologise for” I curled into him

“ I know but if I wasn’t in the public we could have a normal relationship”

“ hey my brothers are in the public to nothing about my life is normal I promise this isn’t all you”

We both sat in silence wrapped up in each other for a moment

“ now did you say something about the water being nice” I giggled

“ yes it’s amazing let’s go”

He grabbed you by your legs flinging you over his shoulder running towards the Crystal blue water before dunking you in.

“ oh your gonna pay for that Ollie!” You screeched.

Happy in your little vacation bubble just you and your family no one else no cameras no press. But that wouldn’t last long.

#charles leclerc x reader #f1 x reader #f1 #lando norris x reader #x reader #arthur leclerc #formula 1 #charles lecrelc #fanfic #charles leclerc x you #blurb #my fic #ollie bearman fluff #ollie bearman x you #ollie bearman x reader #ollie bearman #ollie bearman imagine #drivers

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goldengalore · 1 year

Text

Scandal

An anxious!reader fic.

Summary: Harry faces the biggest scandal of his career when a popular influencer claims that the singer forcefully entered his home and attacked him. Y/N sets on a mission to clear Harry’s name.

Word count: 11.4k

Warnings: anxiety, physical violence, mentions of domestic violence, nonconsensual kiss, cheating, toxic masculinity, angst, smut (a bit of domrry and subrry)

A/N: Lots of protective!harry in this one. Pay attention to the warnings. Characters make some serious (false) accusations towards H. If anything makes you uncomfortable, click away! Otherwise, enjoy this angsty fic :)

***

Y/N doesn’t like parties.

Even when she was a little girl and her parents would invite all their extended family over to celebrate her birthday, her tiny self would cry and complain until one of her parents scolded her to shut her up. As she grew older, she developed methods of alleviating the discomfort brought on by social events—the main one involving alcohol.

Calling her an alcoholic would be inaccurate because the only time she ever really drinks is during social situations. In fact, she can go for weeks and months without drinking if she doesn’t have to attend a social event. Still, she knows it’s not healthy nor very effective. All it does is reinforce her belief that she can’t socialize without using alcohol as a crutch, worsening her anxiety in the long run.

Recently, she has decided to start overcoming this habit by completely avoiding alcohol before and during social situations. At first, she wanted to limit herself to one drink, but she knows that the suppressing effect on her overactive nervous system will be enough to lure her into having another, then another… then another.

Tonight is her first chance to put her new rule into practice. It’s her best friend Rosie’s birthday. Her fiance, Colin, threw her a surprise party at his house. Now, Y/N may despise parties, especially the big, extravagant ones that Colin likes to throw, but she is willing to sacrifice a part of her sanity for the people she loves, like Rosie.

Because they’re in LA and Colin is an influencer, most of the people he invited are also influencers of some sort. Y/N warned Harry about this, but he still chose to come along, much to her relief. Surprisingly, aside from a few people asking for a picture with him, he has managed to keep a low profile. He also knows about Y/N’s new rule for herself and has agreed to help her abide by it, even going as far as not drinking himself, though she told him that wasn’t necessary.

Now, while they’re conversing with a small group of people—or at least Harry converses while Y/N mostly just listens and nods and tries not to think about how badly she wants to go home—someone offers Harry a drink and she notices him hesitate for the briefest second before saying no.

“H, you can have a drink,” she tells him in his ear a minute later. “Seriously, I don’t mind. I promise you’ll still be the best boyfriend in the world by the end of the night.”

He smirks. “I’m going to need that on a mug or a t-shirt or something, you know, just so I don’t forget.”

“Fine, you’re getting that for Christmas this year, but that’s all you’re getting.”

He places a hand on his chest. “I would gladly accept that as my only gift.”

She rolls her eyes at his dramatics, smiling all the while.

“All right, I’ll grab a drink then, if you insist,” he says.

“Good. I’m going to use the washroom. Meet you back here in five?”

“Deal.”

They both go their separate ways—Harry to the bar and Y/N to the washroom. When she finds it, she opens the door and instantly regrets not knocking first. Next to the toilet is a girl kneeling on the floor with a guy’s dick in her mouth. And not just any girl, but a well-known Instagram model whose face Y/N has seen many times before.

“Shit, sorry! Sorry!” Y/N blurts out, quickly pulling the door shut. It’s only after the door closes that her brain registers who the guy was. He had his back to her, but the dirty blonde hair messily styled around his head gave him away.

It was Colin. Rosie’s Colin.

At first, she stays frozen in place, too shocked to move, but then she sees the doorknob twisting from the other side and suddenly snaps out of it. Her legs start taking her away from the washroom.

“Y/N!” she hears Colin shout from behind her.

She walks faster, pushing through the crowds of people, with no plan for where she’s headed. Eventually, she ends up out in the backyard by Colin’s pool, thinking she must have lost him somewhere in the crowd. But then the glass door slides opens and out comes Colin. He closes the door before walking over to her. The light from the pool reflects off his pale face. His blue eyes are wide and frantic.

“Look,” he starts, “what you saw back there, it wasn’t— We weren’t— It wasn’t—” He pauses before starting again, “She’s just a friend.”

She scoffs at his lame defense. “Do all your friends give you blowjobs?”

“She wasn’t giving me a blowjob.”

“Oh, so your dick just fell into her mouth by accident, is that it? How stupid do you think I am, Colin?”

In the time she has known him—which hasn’t been for very long, since he and Rosie only started dating eight months ago and got engaged three months into their relationship—she always got the impression that he views her as a naive little girl. People often make assumptions about Y/N based on her quiet, reserved nature, like that she is uptight or that she knows nothing about sex or the world. It never fails to annoy her.

“I don’t think you’re stupid,” he says slowly, patronizingly, which only contradicts his statement. “You just… You think you saw something you didn’t see.”

Her eyes narrow. “That sentence doesn’t even make sense.”

She can see him struggling to find more ways to gaslight her. When he realizes he can’t, he just says, “You can’t tell Rosie.”

She doesn’t reply, doesn’t feel the need to. And Colin clearly doesn’t like that. He begins walking towards her, eyes darkening dangerously. She takes a few steps backward, thinking he’ll stop, but he doesn’t, not until she’s right at the edge of the pool with no more room to move back. He looms over her, all six feet of him.

“Did you hear me, Y/N?” he asks, his icy gaze boring into her.

She’s not sure where her boldness comes from in that moment, but all she says in response is, “Fuck you.”

Suddenly, he grips the back of her neck with both hands and smashes his lips against hers forcefully, shoving his tongue into her mouth. Y/N recoils so hard that she would have fallen back into the water if his hand wasn’t gripping her neck so tightly, holding her against him. She lifts her right foot off the ground and swings her leg back before driving the toe of her boot into his shin as hard as possible.

He grunts in pain and releases her, shouting, “Stupid bitch!”

She sidesteps him so that she’s no longer balancing on the edge of the pool and vigorously rubs her mouth with the back of her hand.

Clutching his shin, he pins her with a menacing glare. “You’re not going to say a word to Rosie,” he says between gritted teeth. Then he places his foot on the ground and limps back into the house.

Y/N doesn’t notice she’s shaking until he’s gone. She stays outside a little while longer to gather herself and suppress the nauseating feeling induced by having Colin’s lips on hers. Then she heads back inside to find Harry.

He has a drink in his hand now, and he’s talking to a couple of regular, non-influencer-looking people. As he lifts up his arm, she snuggles into his side, wrapping her arm around his back, resolving to stay there for the remainder of the night.

She will tell him what happened. Just not now. Not with Colin watching her from across the room with Rosie under his own arm, as if he didn’t just cheat on the poor girl and then proceed to kiss her best friend.

She will also tell Rosie what happened. Colin can try to intimidate her into silence, but it won’t work. Rosie will find out. Y/N will make sure of it. She just won’t unleash the devastating news on Rosie’s birthday with all these influencers surrounding them, eagerly awaiting some drama to go down so they can use it as “content.”

The party is nowhere close to done when Y/N and Harry decide to head home, but they’re both spent and ready to crawl into bed. They find Rosie to say their goodbyes, and Y/N tries to rush the process before Colin can show up.

“Happy birthday, girlie,” she says while giving Rosie a tight hug—tighter than usual after what she discovered tonight. “I love you.”

“Love you too. Thanks for everything.”

Unfortunately, right as the two friends are pulling out of their embrace, Colin appears at Rosie’s side.

“Colin told me that you helped plan this whole thing,” says Rosie.

“Yeah, Y/N was great. Couldn’t have pulled it off without her,” Colin tells her. Then he looks at Y/N. “Thanks for keeping it a secret from this one.” He points his thumb at Rosie, laughing easily, but the threat behind his eyes as he stares at Y/N is unmistakable.

She just gives him a tight smile, resisting the urge to slap the cocky grin right off his face. Then she says to Harry, “Let’s go.”

“Thanks for having u—” Harry begins to say to Colin and Rosie, but Y/N grabs his arm and starts dragging him away before he can finish his polite farewell.

Once they’re outside, she lets go of his arm and he gives her a puzzled look.

“What was that about?” he asks as they walk to his car.

“What?”

“Seemed like you couldn’t wait to get the hell out of there.”

“Oh, you know how I feel about parties.” She leaves it at that for now, and luckily, he doesn’t press any further.

He’s had a couple drinks, so Y/N drives them home. As soon as they enter Harry’s warm, empty house, she says, “H, I need to tell you something.”

“Hold that thought, lovie.” He holds up his index finger. “I really need a wee.”

He dashes off to the bathroom by the stairs. Meanwhile, Y/N heads to the living room and flops down on the couch, feeling exhaustion take over her after what transpired tonight. Just as she’s thinking about how she’s going to explain everything to Harry and how he’ll react, she hears the bathroom door open.

Harry joins her on the couch and says, “Right, what did you need to tell me?”

She takes a deep breath. “Something happened at the party tonight.”

“Okay…” He swipes his hair back, gazing at her intently.

“I caught Colin cheating on Rosie with another girl.”

He raises his brows, his expression growing serious.

“After I saw it happen, I walked away and Colin followed me out to the backyard. He tried denying it, but I obviously wasn’t falling for it, so then he said I can’t tell Rosie and he…” She pauses, hesitates. The memory of the repulsive kiss makes her stomach turn again. “He grabbed me by the neck and kissed me—”

“He what?” Harry’s brows climb even higher.

“—and I kicked him in the shin and then he left. I honestly think the kiss was just him trying to make me feel small and intimidate me into not telling Rosie.”

Harry’s usual easygoing demeanour has completely evaporated. His hands curl into fists on his thighs. His jaw clenches and unclenches, as his hard gaze fixates on the coffee table in front of them.

“That piece of shit,” he mutters. “That fucking piece of shit.” He closes his eyes. “Jesus Christ, Y/N, I’m going to—”

“H,” she says, placing her small hand over one of his fists, “I know you’re pissed off right now, but I need you to help me figure something out here.”

He looks at her, eyes softening. His fist opens and turns to grasp her hand. “Of course, whatever you need.”

“I need to tell Rosie what happened. I’m going to do it tomorrow. I’m going to tell her what I saw in the bathroom, but I just don’t know if I should mention the part about him kissing me. She’ll already be devastated to hear that he cheated, and I feel like I’d be adding unnecessary pain by mentioning that. What would you do if you were me?”

“I would tell her everything,” he replies. “Every detail. She deserves to know exactly how much of a prick he is.”

That’s exactly what she expected him to say. Nodding, she says, “Okay. Thank you.”

His anger seems to return after that. He rubs his free hand over his jaw, shaking his head. “It’s awful, what he did to you. And Rosie. Neither of you deserve that.”

She feels so fortunate to have him in that moment. If he wasn’t at the party tonight, she’s not sure what she would have done. Surely, she would have managed one way or another, but knowing that Harry was in the house, even when Colin was cornering her out by the pool, gave her a boost of courage—something she only realized later when she found her way back to him.

Now, she scoots closer to him and wraps her arms around his torso, squeezing him tightly. He squeezes her back.

“Can we go to bed? I’m exhausted,” she tells him.

“Yeah, absolutely.”

***

The following day, when Y/N informs Rosie of Colin’s infidelity, she breaks down into tears before Y/N has even finished explaining what she saw in the bathroom. Her best friend seems so distraught, sobbing and barely forming coherent sentences, that she decides not to follow Harry’s advice about mentioning the kiss.

Before Colin came along, Rosie was always an intelligent, rational human being, the type to think long and hard before making any major decisions. When he appeared in her life, it was like she lost all sense of logic and reason within a matter of weeks of knowing him. Things moved so rapidly between the couple. Y/N thought Rosie was joking when, three months into their relationship, she revealed that Colin had proposed to her and that she had said yes.

Y/N could never understand the hold that this guy had on her friend, but for the most part, it seemed harmless. Until now. Watching someone she cares so deeply about fall apart right before her eyes drives a sword through her heart.

She offers to spend the day with Rosie at her apartment, suggesting that they binge-watch some trashy reality show while munching on their favourite comfort foods, but Rosie says she needs some time alone to process everything. Respecting her wishes, Y/N reminds her that she can call anytime she needs to talk, then heads home.

That night, she’s sitting in bed with Harry, both of them immersed in their own books—him, a romance novel and her, a mystery novel—when her phone buzzes with an incoming call from Rosie.

“Hey, Ros—”

“What the fuck, Y/N?”

Rosie’s hostile greeting makes her pull the phone away from her ear for a second.

“You lied to me.”

“I— What?” Y/N’s uneasy tone draws Harry’s attention away from his novel.

“Colin told me you kissed him.”

Her heart sinks to the pit of her stomach. Immediate regret settles in at not telling Rosie about the kiss. She played right into Colin’s hands. “That’s not what happened, Rosie.”

“Oh, really?” She hears Rosie let out an unamused laugh. Then she hears his voice in the background, whispering something to Rosie. Y/N’s hand digs into the bedsheets, scrunching them between her fingers. Harry reaches for her hand and pulls it into his lap.

“He kissed me,” she states. “He’s just telling you it was the other way around to cover his ass after cheating on you.”

“He never denied cheating on me. He admitted to it.”

Y/N is genuinely taken aback by this, unsure how to respond.

“He said you walked in on him in the bathroom and then you walked away. When he found you later and tried to explain himself, you came onto him and told him that if he fucked you, you wouldn’t tell me that he cheated.”

She scoffs, shaking her head in disbelief. “And you believe that? C’mon, Ro, you are so much smarter than this.”

Once again, her ears pick up on Colin mumbling something to Rosie.

“What lies is he feeding you now?” she asks.

“He thinks we should talk in person,” says Rosie. “All three of us. I agree. I’m at his place right now. Come over and let’s hash this out.”

She closes her eyes. “Rosie, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“What are you so scared of, Y/N?” Colin says into the speaker now, all loud and smug and condescending.

She feels Harry’s hand squeeze hers now.

“I’m giving you a chance to explain your side of the story,” says Colin. “And maybe even apologize.”

She huffs, “Apologize?”

“For trying to get between me and Rosie. She forgave me. Maybe she’ll forgive you too. But that won’t happen if you don’t come here and talk to us.”

Y/N’s blood is boiling. How could Rosie forgive him? It makes no sense. Yet again, she finds herself baffled by Colin’s hypnotic spell on her best friend. Except this time, she is also concerned for Rosie’s safety. Because if he could persuade her to forgive him for cheating, God knows what else he can make her do with the right amount of manipulation and coercion.

“Fine,” she says. ��I’ll come.”

“Good girl, Y/N,” says Colin.

She almost hurls. And she knows Harry heard that too from the way his hand tightens around hers. She hangs up.

Before she can say anything, Harry states, “I’m coming with you.”

“I don’t know if—”

“It’s not up for discussion, Y/N. I already know I can’t convince you to not go, so I’m going with you. That’s it.”

“Fine.” She’s too tired to argue, and if she’s honest with herself, she’s relieved that he’s coming. Colin is bigger than her and has proven that he has no respect for her boundaries. If she has to swallow her pride and admit that she needs her boyfriend there to protect her just in case, then so be it.

Harry softens when he realizes how overbearing his words sounded. “I won’t do anything, I swear,” he reassures her. “I’m just going to make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid.”

She nods. “Okay.”

On the drive to Colin’s house, Y/N gives Harry a rundown of the fabricated story that Colin has planted in Rosie’s head. She also mentions that she no longer feels safe leaving Rosie with Colin.

The house looks desolate tonight, a stark contrast to the previous night when it was filled to the brim with people and music and drugs and alcohol.

Rosie is the one who opens the door for them. Her puffy, bloodshot eyes convey that she hasn’t stopped crying today. Her dark brown hair falls in messy waves around her shoulders. She seems surprised to see Harry, but amidst the surprise, Y/N detects a hint of relief as well. The same relief that Y/N felt when Harry said he was coming with her.

Rosie leads them into the kitchen where Colin is slouched in a chair at the end of the dining table, his hand wrapped around an open bottle of whiskey on the table. A sickening smirk begins to form on his face when he sees Y/N, but it falters when his gaze falls on Harry.

“Why’s he here?” he says, turning his chin up at Harry.

“It’s fine. He can stay,” says Rosie. She sits on a chair that’s already pulled out from under the table, angled towards Colin.

Y/N grabs another chair and drags it far away from the table to maintain a fair distance from Colin. Meanwhile, Harry just leans against a wall off to the side, crossing his arms loosely over his chest. He’s dressed in a blue Adidas jacket and black gym shorts that he threw on before coming here. A hair clip keeps his curls up and away from his face.

“Harry, you wanna sit?” asks Rosie.

“I’m good, thanks.”

The group stares at each other. Y/N at Rosie. Colin at Y/N. Harry at Colin.

After a prolonged silence, Rosie finally says, “Okay, who wants to start?”

“Y/N can start,” Colin answers immediately.

There’s no doubt in her mind that this is merely a tactic to convince Rosie that he has nothing to hide and that Y/N is the one who should be explaining herself.

She clears her throat and shifts in her seat, trying not to let Colin’s annoyingly persistent gaze get to her. “Okay… Well, Rosie, like I said on the phone, I never kissed Colin. He kissed me and I pushed him away and he—”

“Why didn’t you mention any of this earlier?” Rosie interjects. “When you were at my apartment this morning and you told me that he cheated, why didn’t you mention the kiss?”

“You were so upset. I didn’t want to make it worse. I should’ve told you and I regret that I didn’t, but honestly, I just didn’t want to hurt you even more.”

“How am I supposed to believe anything you say now?”

Y/N frowns at her. “Because we’re best friends? And we have been for years? Way longer than you’ve known him.” She glances at Colin.

“He told me the truth. The whole truth. Something I would’ve expected my so-called best friend to do.”

Y/N just sighs and leans back in her chair, silent now as her mind grasps for some way, any way to convince her friend that Colin is the liar here.

Rosie turns to Harry now. “Did you know about this?”

He nods. “Y/N told me everything when we got home last night.” He pauses before adding sincerely, “She’s telling the truth, Rosie.”

“You weren’t even there when it happened. How can you be so sure?”

“Because I know her. And you know her. And we both know she’s not like that. You can call me biased, but it’s very clear to me which of these stories is the more plausible one.”

Y/N notices a subtle shift in Rosie’s expression, as if Harry’s words have actually made her see things from a different perspective. While she’s glad that at least Harry can get through to her friend, the fact that Rosie is quicker to trust Colin or Harry over her is maddening. She and Rosie have had several conversations over the years about people not believing women unless a man backs them up. It’s rather hypocritical of her to be doing the very thing she claims to be against.

Colin, who was previously slumped in his chair with a look of indifference, sits up when he realizes that he might be losing Rosie.

“What are you even doing here, man?” he asks Harry. “This has nothing to do with you.”

“I disagree.” Harry’s relaxed disposition seems to irk Colin even more. “Oh, and you should know,” continues Harry, “that neither of these women feel safe being alone around you, which says a lot about the piece of shit you are.”

“I never said I don’t feel safe around him,” Rosie argues unconvincingly.

“You don’t need to. It’s pretty obvious. And Y/N said—”

“You should really stop believing everything your whore of a girlfriend tells you,” Colin interjects.

A tense moment of silence hangs in the air before Harry pushes himself off the wall and strides over to Colin.

“Harry,” says Y/N in a warning tone, her heart speeding up as she watches Colin rise to his feet. The two men are face-to-face with only a few inches of space between them. Colin is as tall as Harry but with considerably less muscle on his body. However, that doesn’t eliminate Y/N’s concerns about her boyfriend getting hurt. “Harry,” she says again, pleadingly this time.

“Don’t worry, love. I’m not going to do anything,” he tells her, still sounding calm as ever. The only indication that Colin’s words have gotten to him is in his fists, which are clenched so tightly at his sides that his knuckles have lost colour.

“Yeah, he’s not,” says Colin, the smugness returning. “He doesn’t want to ruin his nice guy image. Isn’t that right, Styles?”

Harry lets out a brief, unamused laugh through his nose, then steps back, turning around to go back over to the wall. As he’s walking away, Colin says, “You know, now that I think about it, I should’ve just fucked your girlfriend when I had the chance. Show her what it’s like to be fucked by a real man.”

Now that Harry is turned away from Colin, Y/N can see his entire facial expression, including the rage that swims beneath the tranquil surface. His chest rises and falls with deep, controlled breaths. His eyes find Y/N’s.

“We’re leaving,” he states firmly. “Now.”

“What are you so scared of, Styles?” Colin goads him, the same way he did to Y/N over the phone. “Worried you’re gonna end up in the news for socking me? ‘Mr. Treat People With Kindness loses it on innocent civilian.’” He cackles at his own dumb joke.

Harry pinches the bridge of his nose, his patience visibly diminishing.

Y/N stands and turns to Rosie. “You’re coming with us.”

“What? No, I’m not.”

Losing her composure, Y/N presses her hands against the sides of her head, which is pounding at this point. “Oh my God, Rosie! What kind of hold does this guy have on you?!”

“I just want to talk to him.” She rises to her feet too.

“Why? So he can tell you more lies and manipulate you—”

“Oh, don’t act so fucking righteous, Y/N! Let’s not forget that you lied too!”

“I was trying to protect you! I’m not going to apologize for—”

“Colin, stop!” Rosie’s attention has shifted to the guys, who are now going at each other. Or at least, Colin is going at Harry with his fists, but Harry blocks each and every blow either with his arms or by ducking out of the way completely.

“C’mon, hit me!” Colin shouts desperately, swinging and missing, then swinging and missing again. “Don’t be a fucking pussy! Hit me! What are you waiting for?!”

At the next swing, Harry grabs Colin’s arm and twists it behind his back, spinning him around, then kicking the backs of his knees to make them buckle. Colin collapses face-first onto the hardwood floor. Harry falls on top of him, still twisting Colin’s arm behind his back at a painful angle while pressing his head down into the floor with his other hand.

Colin cries out in agony, struggling underneath Harry’s weight. “Get off me, asshole!”

“Are you gonna stop?” asks Harry.

“You’re breaking my fucking arm!”

“Are you gonna stop?”

“Get off—”

“Are you gonna stop?”

Colin, finally realizing that he’s no match for the man holding him down, surrenders. “Yes! Yes! Fucking yes!”

But Harry doesn’t let go immediately. Instead, he leans down to Colin’s ear and says in a low, chilling tone, “Good boy, Colin.” Then he lets go.

He stands up, fixes his jacket around his torso, and turns around to face the women as if nothing just happened. “Y/N and I are leaving,” he tells Rosie. “You can come with us if you want. It’s your call.”

“I’m staying,” she replies, wincing a bit as she stares at Colin writhing on the floor.

“Okay.” Harry walks over to Y/N, grabs her hand, and starts pulling her towards the door, much like how she dragged him out of the party last night but with more urgency.

“I think he broke my arm,” they hear Colin whine pitifully as they leave.

Harry doesn’t release Y/N’s hand until they reach the car. Once they’re seated inside, she instantly starts assessing his appearance to check if he’s hurt anywhere, but he seems entirely unscathed. You wouldn’t even be able to tell that he’s just been in a fight.

“Are you okay?” she asks just to be sure.

“I’m fine,” he answers, securing his seatbelt before starting the car.

“That got way out of hand.”

“I wish you’d just left with me when I said so,” he mutters, eyes focused on the road ahead.

“Harry, I didn’t want to leave her with him. I still feel awful about leaving her there.”

He takes a right, exiting Colin’s street. “What else were we meant to do, Y/N? Drag her out against her will? You think she’d still talk to you after that?” He scoffs.

His unusual harshness is making her feel even worse about a situation that is already difficult to grapple with. “No, of course not,” she says, a lump forming in her throat. “I understand why we had to leave her. I’m just saying that it fucking sucks, okay? The whole thing fucking sucks and I hate that my best friend is in the middle of it all and I can’t do anything to help her. I’m probably going to lose the only real friend I’ve made in my adult life all because of some fucking douchebag and I hate it, I hate him, I—I—” She breaks down then, her face falling into her hands as she sobs.

Anger is a strange emotion. When it’s there in full force, consuming you from head to toe, it leaves little room for anything else—anxiety, grief, and despair included. Then once it disappears, all those other emotions come hurtling in from all sides, crushing you beneath their weight.

Harry pulls over to the side of the road. “Y/N.” He turns to face her and carefully pries her hands away from her face.

She tilts her head back against the headrest, squeezing her eyes shut, tears falling unhindered.

“Hey, I get it,” he speaks gently. “I know it’s a shitty situation. I know you want to protect her, the same way I want to protect you, but you can’t save someone who’s constantly refusing your help. It’s not your fault, my love. You’ve done everything you can.” He holds both of her hands in one of his while using the other to wipe her cheeks. “I’m sorry for being harsh with you. I just hate the idea of you getting hurt. I’m sorry.” He kisses her hands several times.

“It’s okay,” she whispers, opening her eyes to look at him. She grabs a wad of tissues from the box on the dash and clears her throat before saying, “Thank you for being there tonight and handling everything so well… And not killing Colin, even though I wouldn’t have blamed you if you did.”

“Trust me, I wanted to. The prick needs someone to teach him a lesson. Unfortunately, that can’t be me.”

“I don’t know. I think you taught him pretty well that he’s not as man as he thinks he is.”

He smirks, and it’s the first sign of any pride he feels about overpowering Colin. He looks back at the road and says, “Let’s go home.”

***

It’s been a couple days since the incident at Colin’s house. Y/N hasn’t heard from Rosie again, nor does she expect to. Now, it’s the middle of the afternoon and she’s working on a new commissioned drawing when she receives a call from Jeff.

“Hey, Y/N, I’ve been trying to reach Harry all day,” he says when she picks up. “Is he with you?”

The urgency in Jeff’s voice makes her stop what she’s doing. “Uh, no, he’s out golfing with some friends. Why? Is everything okay?”

“Have you been online at all today?” She barely has a chance to answer before he says, “Sorry, dumb question. Of course you haven’t. That’s why you’re so calm. Anyway, there’s this guy, some TikToker, making some serious allegations against Harry. His name is Colin Rogers. Does that ring a bell?��

She sighs and closes her eyes. “Yeah. That’s Rosie’s fiance. What’s he saying about Harry?”

“To give you the CliffsNotes version, he’s saying that you cheated on Harry with him a few nights ago, and when Harry found out, he forced his way into Colin’s house and beat him badly enough to cause bruises and bleeding that landed him in the hospital.”

“Oh my God.”

“Like I said, that’s the CliffsNotes version. I skipped out a lot of details. It’s… bad. And he has a witness corroborating his statements.”

She frowns. “What witness?”

“Your friend Rosie.”

Y/N facepalms and groans in frustration.

“Now, we know all of this is bullshit, right?”

“Yeah, that’s not what happened,” she confirms.

“Which explains why he didn’t say a word to the police and went straight to his little Internet followers. Now it’s all anyone is talking about.”

“Are people believing it?”

“Some are. Some aren’t. That’s usually how it goes.” He sounds tired. “Look, I need to run, but I’ll send you an article detailing everything Colin said. I hate to give these tabloids any clicks, but this article is pretty thorough. Please tell H to call me when you hear from him.”

“Will do.”

Jeff sends her the article a few seconds later. She takes a deep breath before opening the link, a sick feeling settling in her stomach.

The clickbait headline reads: Harry Styles’ first big SCANDAL! Read more to find out how the “As It Was” singer ASSAULTED TikTok influencer Colin Rogers in his home.

As Y/N scrolls through the article, she finds that Jeff was right. It’s bad. Very bad. There are clips from Colin’s TikTok where he describes in exaggerated detail his manufactured version of events from that night. In the clips, you can clearly see dark purple bruises on either side of his head and around his eyes as well as his neck. His lip is badly cut, the surrounding region swollen and puffy. Even his nose is bent at an odd shape, signalling a possible fracture.

Y/N recalls how desperately Colin was trying to provoke Harry that night, saying degrading things about her to get under his skin. He even alluded to Harry ending up in the news for hitting him. Colin may be an arrogant dickhead, but apparently he’s not stupid. He was planning this out in his head even then—how he would use that situation to publicly smear Harry’s reputation along with Y/N’s.

As another one of Colin’s TikToks plays, she sees him hold up a small object. Harry’s lion ring. Colin says he found it after Harry left his house, claiming that it must have fallen off during their altercation. But Y/N knows that’s a lie because Harry wasn’t even wearing any rings that night. He was, however, wearing rings the previous night at Rosie’s birthday party. It had to have slipped off his finger at the party without him knowing.

The ring is the only “proof” Colin has of Harry being at his house at one point. Other than that, he presents no solid evidence to back up his claims, but of course, anyone who has spent even a week on social media knows that it does not operate on facts and evidence. People’s insatiable hunger for drama trumps the truth in most online spaces.

Harry gets home from golfing a couple hours later, and Y/N sits him down to explain everything. By the end of it, he is befuddled and speechless. It takes a while for him to gather his thoughts, at which point he says he’s going to make some calls to Jeff, his publicist, and a few others on his team to get their input.

He disappears into the study for the next few hours, his deep voice occasionally carrying over to Y/N, who is working at the dining table. The sun has gone down. She contemplates getting started on dinner when Harry emerges from the study.

“Hi, baby,” she says.

He walks over to her and kisses the top of her head before taking a seat next to her. She notices the fatigue on his face.

“How did the calls go?”

“We’re releasing a statement tomorrow,” he says. “It’s been drafted up already. Just explaining what actually happened that night and making it very clear that I was invited into the house and the only time I touched Colin was to defend myself, but his injuries were not my doing.”

“Can’t you also sue him for defamation? Is that what it’s called?” Suddenly feeling self-conscious about her lack of knowledge on the law, she adds, “Sorry, I don’t know much about this stuff.”

He smiles sweetly. “It’s a bit early to take that step. Jeff thinks the statement might be enough to make Colin retract his story. I’m not so sure.” He shrugs. “I guess we’ll see.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Nope, you just keep being your lovely self.” He pokes her cheek.

“Well, Rosie’s over on her Instagram, trying to convince everyone that Colin’s telling the truth. I feel like I should say something too, like maybe—”

“Darling, trust me,” he interrupts. “There’s no need. My team will handle it. They know what they’re doing.”

She bites her lip and lets out a soft sigh. “Okay.”

“And let’s stay off social media for a while, yeah? Just to keep our sanity intact.” She knows he’s mostly saying this for her. He hardly uses social media unless it’s to catch up with his loved ones, and while she also isn’t on there that much, she struggles more than him when it comes to ignoring people’s opinions online.

“Yeah, definitely,” she agrees.

But later that night, while she’s lying in bed and Harry is finishing up his nighttime routine in the bathroom, the urge to look online strikes and she can’t resist. She opens up the hellsite known as Twitter and doomscrolls through the shitty takes of people who clearly don’t know a thing about Harry but have been desperately waiting for something like this to come out about him just so they can jump on the bandwagon and “cancel” him and pile on the hate like their life depends on it, despite the fact that none of them know what they’re talking about and—

“What are you doing?” Harry’s voice startles her. She quickly turns off her phone and looks at him standing next to the bed in just his Calvin Klein underwear, which does nothing to hide his prominent bulge.

“Nothing,” she replies.

He gives her a skeptical look.

She sighs. “I’m sorry! It’s like a car crash that I can’t look away from… Except I’m involved in the car crash and I didn’t even get the worst of it.”

He climbs onto the bed, gingerly plucking the phone out of her hands and placing it on the bedside table. Then he lies on his side next to her, propped up on one elbow. Y/N gazes up at him and shakes her head in awe at how laid-back he seems.

“I don’t understand how you’re able to stay so calm in just about every situation,” she says. “It’s infuriating and hot at the same time.”

He chuckles. “I just try to remind myself that these people don’t actually know me, so there’s no point in letting their opinions get to me.”

“You say that like it’s the easiest thing in the world.” Thanks to her social anxiety, Y/N has spent the better part of her life obsessing over what other people think of her, whether it be her loved ones or the random stranger that cashed her out at the grocery store. She has always yearned for the kind of cool indifference that people like Harry exude even in the face of immense scrutiny.

“I’ve had practice,” he says. “You’ll learn as well.”

“Yeah? Will you teach me?”

“Happily.”

His gaze shifts down to her lips, and he leans down to kiss them, soft and slow. Meanwhile, his finger traces along her jaw and down her neck until his hand comes to rest on one of her breasts. She’s not wearing a bra, and her thin shirt hardly acts as a barrier between his large hand and her supple skin. He squeezes her lightly in his palm, keeping his kisses and touches gentle, like he’s handling an expensive piece of porcelain.

For a moment, her mind drifts off to the comments she read online. She cannot fathom how anyone could believe that this man—this gentle, patient, loving man—would ever do the things that Colin accused him of.

It turns out that her mind isn’t the only one wandering off to other places because Harry suddenly pulls away and says, “Sorry to bring this up, but I…” His jaw clenches. “I just hate that he put his filthy hands on you.”

“I know,” she whispers, reaching up to weave her fingers through his curls in a soothing gesture. She had no idea that Colin’s actions towards her at the party were still bothering Harry.

“And with the press being all over it now, I almost wish I’d just beaten the living shit out of him. I mean, everyone thinks I did anyway.”

“Yeah, but that’s not you, H.”

He just shrugs.

Y/N sits up and tugs at his briefs. “Take these off.”

His brows perk up at her demand.

“I’m tired of thinking and talking about Colin,” she says. “So, let me give us both something else to think about.”

A smirk forms on his lips as he hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his briefs and pulls them down his legs.

Before he entered her life, Y/N would never take the lead during sex. She always felt like she lacked the self-confidence required for that, but then again, none of the men she’d previously slept with were ever willing to let her take the lead anyway. They were the type of guys to feel emasculated by relinquishing control to a woman, though they would never admit this.

Harry was different. He was equally happy to lead and be led, to give and to receive. That alone made sex with him an ethereal experience.

Now, once Y/N also strips naked, they rest on the bed with their positions reversed—him on his back and her propped up next to him. Her hand cradles his jaw before she leans down to kiss him. Then she brings her hand to his semi-erect cock, wrapping it around the base and stroking softly until he grows stiffer in her palm and starts leaking precum. She strokes his balls as well, drawing more fluid from his tip that she then uses to get his dick nice and wet.

Harry is ogling her exposed breasts now in that way he does when he really wants to suck on them, so she slides up the bed, allowing him to take them into his mouth. When she gives his cock a firm tug, he moans around her nipple. The sensation causes her own wetness to pool between her legs.

He continues licking and sucking on her tits, grazing his teeth over them ever so slightly. The pleasurable feeling momentarily distracts her from her task, but then she returns her attention to his needy cock twitching in her palm. She jerks him faster, moving her hand up and down his pinkish flesh with just enough pressure to turn him into a moaning mess under her. Her nipple falls from his mouth as his lips part.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he pants. “I— Wait, stop. Stop.”

She immediately stills her movements and starts to ask what’s wrong when he flips them over so that he’s on top of her.

“As much as I was enjoying that,” he says, “I want to feel your pussy on me when I cum.”

His erection prods her thigh as he hovers over her, his legs wedged between hers. He reaches down to her cunt, feeling the wetness that has accumulated there. She can see it in his eyes, in his blown out pupils, that he really wants to put his cock in her right then, but he takes a minute to toy with her clit and heighten the anticipation for both of them. At last, he grabs his cock and starts guiding it into her sopping pussy.

He pauses once he’s inside her and brings the hand that was playing with her clit up to her mouth, pressing his damp fingers against her lips until she opens up and takes them into her mouth.

“Wrap your legs around me,” he says.

Still sucking his fingers clean, she wraps her legs around his hips.

He grins at her quick compliance. “Such a good girl.” Then he emphasizes, “My good girl. Isn’t that right?”

She nods, closing her eyes as he grinds his hips down into her.

“Mhm. All mine.”

Her pussy contracts around him. Keeping his fingers in her mouth, he retracts his hips and thrusts back into her. She whimpers and wraps her arms around him, nails digging into his back muscles as the rhythm of his thrusts increases in speed and urgency.

He pulls his fingers from his mouth to place that hand on the bed for extra leverage. With her mouth free, all she can do is moan his name and cry out from the intoxicating feeling of his cock ramming deep into her cunt with every thrust.

“Look at you,” he coos. “Taking my cock so well. My perfect girl. My dream girl.”

His voice and his cock are the centre of Y/N’s universe right now; nothing else matters. Her orgasm is just around the corner, building rapidly in her core.

“Ready to cum all over my cock, Y/N?”

“Oh yes, please, yes—” She gasps as his hips rock into hers at just the right angle to push her over the edge. Her whole body locks around him—legs around his hips and arms around his back.

Harry grunts with one final thrust before letting himself go, filling her up with his seed. His body relaxes on top of her. She eases her grip on him as well. Their breathing slowly returns to normal, the rising and falling of their chests syncing up.

It’s hard to think about anything else after that. She wants to stay like that forever, with him covering her like a weighted blanket, his length gradually softening inside her. She even starts to drift off after a few minutes until Harry lifts his head to look at her.

“Hey, don’t fall asleep on me yet,” he says. “Let’s get cleaned up.”

She groans as he rolls off of her. He chuckles at her reluctance and drags her out of bed with him.

***

The viral storm rages on for days, even after Harry’s team releases the statement. Contrary to Jeff’s predictions, Colin doesn’t retract any of his claims and instead doubles down on them even harder, emboldened by the blind support of his followers.

Y/N and Harry block it all out. While she found it difficult at first to look away from the trainwreck, she was eventually able to redirect her attention to her art instead. For several days, the couple remains in their happy little bubble, unbothered by the incessant buzz of the online world.

That bubble pops on one sunny Friday afternoon.

Y/N is in need of some new art supplies, and Harry is in the mood to add to his vinyl collection. They decide to make a whole day out of it, visiting the art supply store and the record store before wandering around a few other places. One shop specifically dedicated to vintage home decor catches their attention, and they end up spending over an hour in there, walking through each aisle like kids in a candy store.

Harry is usually the first one to notice when they’re being watched or followed; they often joke that he has a third eye on the back of his head. Today, however, Y/N is the first to notice the two girls who keep showing up in or around the same aisle that they’re in.

Harry’s eyeing an antique candle holder set when she leans over to him and says quietly, “I think you have a shadow… Two, actually.”

He follows her gaze to the two girls idling at the end of the aisle. When he lifts his hand to wave at them, they seem to freeze in place like a couple of deer in headlights.

He turns back to Y/N. “I’m going to go say hi.”

She nods. “Okay, I’ll wait outside. Take your time.”

It’s a beautiful day out. Not too hot, not too cold. The cusp of spring. Perfect for a light sweater, but even in her long-sleeved shirt, Y/N feels nice and snug. She stands in front of the shop, the bags containing their new purchases hanging from her arm. She tilts her head up towards the sun and closes her eyes for a minute.

“Y/N Y/L/N?”

Her eyes snap open at the sound of her name. A short, balding man dressed in all black stands before her.

“Uh, y—yes? Do I know you?” she asks, giving him a once-over.

He smiles. “No, but I know you.” Suddenly, he pulls a big professional camera out from behind his back and brings it up to his face with the lens directed at Y/N to capture her reaction as he says, “Ms. Y/L/N, how do you feel about the allegations made by Colin Rogers towards your boyfriend Harry Styles?”

She tenses.

Y/N has always hated being the centre of attention. Of course, when you’re dating a global superstar, it’s inevitable. However, over the course of their relationship, they haven’t had too many run-ins with the paparazzi; Harry has become rather skilled at avoiding the pests.

She wonders how this guy figured out their whereabouts, but considering how much time they spent inside the shop, it wouldn’t be surprising if an employee, or even the two fans Harry is currently talking to, tipped him off.

When she doesn’t respond to his question, he says, “Colin claims that Harry has a short temper and is a lot more aggressive than he lets on. Is this true, Ms. Y/L/N?”

She looks over her shoulder at the shop windows to see if Harry is on his way out. Whenever she tries to step back or turn away from the annoying pap, he finds his way right back in front of her with his camera shoved in her face. Flashbacks of how Colin cornered her by the pool at Rosie’s birthday party flicker in the back of her mind.

She continues ignoring the intrusive questions until he asks her, “Has Harry ever hit you, Ms. Y/L/N?“

The question is so jarring that it almost feels like someone knocked the air out of her lungs. “Excuse me?”

The man seems pleased to finally get a reaction out of her. With a casual shrug, he replies, “Just felt the need to ask since the new claims came out.”

Her heart pounds in her chest. “What new claims?”

“A source close to you and Harry says that she’s seen him lose his temper with you on more than one occasion and—”

Her face contorts in disgust. “God, you people will believe anything! No, he hasn’t hit me. He would never. And the fact that you would ask any woman a sensitive question like that while filming her without consent is disgusting.”

“So… Are you denying the claims, Ms. Y/L/N?”

What do you think, dumbass? she wants to say, but she refuses to give him any more content. Of course, that only makes him more persistent, and yet again, the camera is far too close to her face.

“C—can you get that out of my face please?” she says, less assertively than she would have liked, but her anxiety is rising with every passing moment and the only thing on her mind at this point is how to slow down her heartrate before she passes out.

Suddenly, a ringed hand appears from the left side of her vision and shoves the camera down and out of her face.

“Whoa, don’t touch the equipment, man!” the pap shouts angrily, clutching his precious camera to his chest.

Harry steps in front of him, towering over his short figure. “When someone asks you nicely to get the camera out of their face, you get the camera out of their face. It’s not that complicated.”

The pap takes a step back, raising his hands by his sides. “Calm down, pal. What, you gonna hit me too?”

Harry just scowls at him, then turns to Y/N with concerned eyes. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, let’s just go.” She reaches for his arm.

Not wasting another second, they start walking towards Harry’s car parked down the street. The pap is relentless, following them all the way there.

Right as Harry presses the button to unlock the car, he says, “Harry, any comments on the new claims about you hitting your girlfriend?”

Harry freezes in his tracks and turns around. “What did you just say?”

“H, let’s just get in the car,” Y/N pleads.

“Not my words, man,” says the pap. “Just saw it in the news today. A source close to you said—”

“A source close to me.” Harry scoffs and rolls his eyes. “Yeah, right.”

“You can look it up if you don’t believe me. I’m trying to help you, man. Colin Rogers is dominating the narrative. This is your chance to say your piece—”

“Right, well, here’s my piece then.” The pap raises the camera to his face again as Harry says, “Colin Rogers is a narcissistic, misogynistic, abusive pile of shit.” Leaning towards the man, he adds, “And so are you.”

And with that, he gets into the car and so does Y/N. She’s still shocked about what he said to the pap, not that it wasn’t deserved. He’s just always so stoic in these situations, and it’s the first time she has witnessed him break.

They ride silently for a while until Harry says, “People are saying I hit you? What the fuck? What the actual—”

“Okay, wait,” she says, placing a hand on his arm. “We don’t even know if he was telling the truth. He could’ve been making it up to get a reaction out of us. Let’s not jump to conclusions.”

This is new to Y/N, being the calm one in a crisis. More often than not, Harry is the one talking her anxious self down from the proverbial ledge instead of the other way around.

He doesn’t speak for the rest of the ride, but she can tell his mind is spinning. Once they reach home, she heads upstairs to change and put their shopping away. When she comes back down, Harry is sitting on the couch, leaning forward on his thighs with his phone in his hands. His face is set in a deep frown.

“He was right,” he says without looking up from his phone as she approaches him. “People really are saying that.”

She sits down next to him and gently pulls his shoulder to make him rest back against the couch. He sets his phone aside and rubs his hands over his face.

“Y/N, they think I’m some kind of monster. They think they need to, like… save you from me, as if I would ever hurt you…” Finally, he looks at her. “You know I would never hurt you, right?”

Her eyes widen. “Yes. Oh my God. You don’t need to tell me that, Harry.”

He sighs and tilts his head against the back of the couch. “Out of all the things people have said about me over the years, this has got to be the worst.”

She brings her hand to his jaw, his stubble scraping against her fingers. “Baby, look at me.”

He tilts his head down again to meet her gaze.

“These people don’t know you,” she says, using his own wording. “They’re just a bunch of trolls that feed off drama. They don’t care about the truth. They don’t care about ‘saving’ me. It’s all just an act. And in a few days, they’re going to move on to some other celebrity gossip that catches their attention. Meanwhile, the people who do know you are still going to see you as the big softie you are.”

The look in his eyes is still one of utter defeat and hopelessness, which makes her worry that her words have had no impact on him.

“Do you want to talk to someone else about it? Like Jeff?” she asks.

He shakes his head. “Don’t wanna talk to anyone. Just wanna lay here with you if that’s okay.”

“Of course.”

She lies on the couch and lets him rest his head on her chest, his arm wrapped around her middle. She tries to think of some other comforting words she can say to him but then realizes that she doesn’t have to fill the silence. Sometimes, the act of just being there for someone is far more comforting than any words can be.

***

Y/N is getting worried about Harry. A week has gone by and he has hardly left the house. Between the two of them, he is by far the more outdoorsy one, but even she has been outside more times than him this past week. He hasn’t been eating much, claiming that he’s “just not very hungry.” She often wakes in the night to find him lying there, just staring up at the ceiling, and has to coax him to sleep. She doesn’t even hear him singing in the shower like he normally does.

It crushes her to see him so low. She wants to single-handedly take down every person who has made him feel this way.

The day after the incident with the pap, she made the dangerous decision to see for herself what people were saying online. Most people seemed to recognize that these new rumours about Harry hitting Y/N were completely out of character. Despite how private they are about their relationship, people know that he practically worships Y/N from the way he talks about her in his music.

The ones who believed the rumours were a small, but vocal, minority. Harry’s fans were trying their best to drown them out, like it was their full-time job, and while Y/N feels grateful for them, she wishes there was more that she could do to help.

Today, she somehow convinces Harry to go on a walk with her around the neighbourhood. Intent on not being recognized, he opts for the most indistinguishable clothing that covers him from head to toe, combined with a hat and sunglasses. He even keeps the hood of his sweater pulled up over his hat.

“It’s so warm out,” she says as they stroll down the sidewalk. “How are you not dying in that?”

He shrugs and kicks a rock in his path. “Dunno.”

Most of his responses have been like that lately. Short, indifferent. She doesn’t take it personally. After all, she behaves in a similar way when her anxiety has her in its grips. And anyway, even though he doesn’t talk much these days, he hasn’t stopped being affectionate or reminding her that he loves her.

When they return home from their walk, Harry immediately removes his hat and sweater, confirming that he was indeed too warm in that. She makes a comment about craving a cold smoothie, and he offers to make one for her as well as one for himself.

“I can make them,” she says. “It was my idea anyway.”

He shakes his head. “No, I was a dick on our walk. Need to make up for that.”

She gives him a look. “H, you don’t need to make up for anything.”

“I do though,” he insists, walking off to the kitchen before she can protest any further.

Suddenly, her phone goes off in her back pocket. She pulls it out. It’s Rosie. For a few seconds, she vacillates between picking up and ignoring it. In the end, she picks up.

“Hello?”

“He broke up with me,” says Rosie.

Surprise, surprise, thinks Y/N. “Did you call to tell me that?”

“No, I… I need to confess something.” Her voice trembles as she states, “I—I’m the one who told the press that Harry hit you.”

Y/N lets out a sigh and leans against the small table in the entryway of the house. “I already knew that, Rosie.”

“You did?”

“‘A source close to me’? Not a lot of people can say they’re close to me, so it was kind of a no-brainer.”

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I’m going to tell everyone that it was all a story, that none of it is true.”

“It’s a bit late for that.”

“You have no idea how sorry I am. Colin got in my head and he—”

“Did he tell you to say that Harry hit me?”

“W—well, no…”

“So that was your own genius idea?”

She says nothing.

Y/N closes her eyes, trying to sound as firm as possible as she says the next few words, “Okay, Rosie, I need you to listen to me closely… I don’t ever want to see you again. I don’t ever want to hear from you again. And don’t ever come near me or Harry ever again. Do you understand?”

Rosie’s answer arrives in an ashamed whisper, “Yeah.”

She’s about to hang up, her finger hovering over the little red icon, then she lifts the phone back up to her ear. “One more thing. How did Colin get those injuries?”

“Um, he went to that bar on Jacob Street that night after you and Harry left. He got wasted and got into a fight with a guy almost twice his size.”

Y/N knows exactly which bar she’s referring to. Now that she has the information she needs, she bids her now ex-best friend a final goodbye and hangs up. Tears prick the backs of her eyes as she realizes that the longest friendship of her life has just come to a calamitous end.

She places her phone on the table and looks up at the ceiling to keep the tears in. Then a pair of arms wraps around her waist from behind. She looks over her shoulder at Harry.

“I’m sorry, my love,” he says. “I know she meant a lot to you.”

She smiles sadly, a tear escaping the corner of her eye.

“Look at us. We’re just a couple of sad people, aren’t we?”

She laughs. “No! I refuse to label us as sad people. We’re just going through a tough time and we’re going to get through this.”

“Yes, we are.” He gives her a kiss on the cheek. “I’m actually thinking of going back to therapy. It’s been a while.”

“That’s a great idea. I should probably do that too.”

Later that afternoon, Harry falls asleep while reading a book on the couch. Y/N takes this as her chance to chat with Jeff about something that’s been on her mind since her conversation with Rosie.

When Jeff picks up her call, she doesn’t even wait for him to speak before she says, “I know how we can prove that Colin’s lying.”

“Uh… Okay, elaborate.”

“I spoke to Rosie today and she told me Colin went to a bar that night where he got into a fight with someone and ended up with those injuries. I know which bar it is. If we can go there and get security camera footage from that night, we can prove that Colin was lying all along.”

“I see what you’re saying, but we can’t just walk into a bar and ask for their security footage. We’re not investigators.”

“Okay, but don’t you know someone who can do that? You’re an Azoff. You have connections, don’t you?”

“Yeah, in the entertainment industry, Y/N. Not in law enforcement.”

She releases a heavy sigh. “C’mon, Jeff, there has to be something we can do with this information… If you’re not going to help, I will go to that bar and steal that footage myself.”

“Don’t do that,” he says quickly. “Look, I’ll see what I can do, okay?”

“Thank you.”

There’s a pause before he asks, “How’s H doing?”

“Not great. He’s really torn up about what people are saying, especially the rumours about him… hurting me. Which is exactly why I need to clear his name. I know some people will still say nasty things about him—that’s never going to stop—but…” She bites her lip to keep herself from getting emotional, which seems to be happening a lot lately. “Harry has been there for me through so much. I need to do this for him.”

“He’s lucky to have you.”

She smiles. She didn’t know she needed to hear that until now. Ever since this mess began, a part of her has been blaming herself for putting Harry through this hell because Rosie and Colin never would’ve entered his life if it wasn’t for her. While she knows that it’s not her fault, sometimes her insecurities get the best of her.

“Thanks, Jeff,” she replies.

***

Not even twenty-four hours later, the bar footage is released online. It spreads like wildfire, turning all of Harry’s critics to ashes and causing irreparable damage to Colin’s credibility.

Y/N messages Jeff to commend him for retrieving the footage so fast.

Y/N: YOU’RE AMAZING I OWE YOU

Jeff: You can repay me by drawing 100 portraits of me that I can hang around my house

Y/N: On it 🫡

Even Rosie sticks to her word by announcing on her social media that everything she said was a lie, which adds another nail in Colin’s coffin.

Over the next few days, the ominous cloud that has been hanging over Harry and Y/N’s heads finally clears. Harry is back to being his bubbly, radiant self, lighting up every room he walks into. Life feels like it’s returning to normal, at last.

Tonight, they’re at dinner with Jeff and Harry’s two other managers, Tom and Tommy. It’s not a business meeting; Harry was just in the mood to treat the people who continue to support him both professionally and personally. Lately, Y/N has been feeling motivated to overcome her discomfort around eating in public, so she agreed to tag along as well. Towards the end of their meal, Jeff raises his glass and clears his throat to get everyone’s attention.

“Okay, we need to make a toast to someone at this table,” he states. “Not you, Harry. Don’t get too excited.”

Harry’s in the middle of sipping his drink, so he just flips his friend the middle finger, which Jeff graciously returns.

“This is a toast to Y/N and her investigative skills,” Jeff continues, now looking at Y/N, who is completely caught off-guard by this gesture. “She was the one who figured out how He Who Shall Not Be Named got his injuries. And she came up with the idea of getting the security footage from that bar.”

Everyone is staring at her now, including Harry. His eyebrows are raised in surprise as he asks, “That was your idea?”

“Oh, I— It was nothing,” she says modestly. “I didn’t even do much.”

Then Jeff reveals, “She even threatened to go to the bar and steal that footage herself if I didn’t help her.” He points a finger at her. “The lady knows how to get what she wants.”

Her cheeks flush red. “Okay, that might have been a bit dramatic, but I just couldn’t let Col—” She suddenly remembers their unspoken rule of not referring to Colin by name and corrects herself, “Sorry, I couldn’t let He Who Shall Not Be Named get away with smearing Harry’s reputation, so...” She shrugs, taking a sip of her water in a futile attempt to hide the blush on her face.

Harry smiles and squeezes her knee under the table. “Thank you, lovie.”

“Maybe we need to get Y/N on the team,” says Tommy.

“Oh yeah, she’s basically my guardian angel,” says Harry, winking at her. “Might as well.”

Y/N just laughs and accepts the praise, not bothering to hide her reddened cheeks anymore. She might hate being the centre of attention, but at least this is a good kind of attention.

“To Y/N, everyone!” says Jeff, lifting his glass up in the air.

“To Y/N!”

***

Thank you for reading! For more anxious!reader and other fics, check out my MASTERLIST

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highonmarvel · 4 months

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Hi there! May i please request a mob!steve x reader where the reader used to be with him but when she found about his mob life she left him so like the HR he decided to ruin her life and one day he just shows up in her now downgraded apartment and manipulates and gaslights her into coming back to him, and she just goes back because she’s just in a vulnerable place

Feel free to add your own spin to it btw love your work soo much! Especially the biker!bucky 🤗

oh, i like this! and thank you so much for the love! i hope you enjoy. and i apologise for taking over a month to get back to you, shit’s been wild for me. okay, here we go:

Easy Luxury

Steve Rogers: You find out how your suspiciously wealthy boyfriend makes his money, and have to start over without it.

content warnings here!

It was never manipulation, it was a deep understanding that enabled him to know what you needed before you even opened your mouth, a symptom of being the blond-haired, blue-eyed boy next door type. Naturally, he knows what’s best for you, you’d never have to question him. And you didn’t.

Steve was suspiciously wealthy for such a humble and down-to-Earth guy, but you didn’t question it; his expensive car, his shiny watch, his high rise penthouse, his seemingly endless cash, you didn’t read too much into it, you just enjoyed his presence, and his luxury didn’t hurt either; anything you wanted, and things you didn’t, Steve gave to you, and you accepted gratefully. He even insisted you live closer to him until he didn’t have so many people coming in and out of his apartment for something he never quite explained, and then you could move in with him. You live in a nice ass building a block down from him, making for easy visits, curtesy Steve.

You sigh as you place your bag down in the lift on the way up to the top floor, excited to surprise Steve. You had head to see your parents for what was supposed to be two weeks, but after just one you’d had enough, and you missed Steve.

You excitedly bounce on your toes as you pick your bag up again, the elevator numbers just a few ticks from the top. With a wide grin, you stare straight ahead as the the doors open, and that smile immediately drops.

Right in the middle of your living room, Steve is ripping the teeth out of a guy tied to a chair. Even the back of his shirt is bloodied, and there’s so much blood on the floor you have to assume there have been many other people in this man’s position in the time you’ve been away.

“You fucking rat,” he grunts as he pries the man’s mouth open again and sticks an adjustable wrench into the back of his cheek. It clasps onto one of his wisdom teeth and Steve pries it out, and you can tell he’s satisfied despite his back facing you. The man lets out a bloodcurdling scream and Steve tosses the tooth onto a pile of at least five others.

“Workin’ for the Starks, huh?”

The Starks are a well known mob family in New York, and if they’re Steve’s rivals then…

You gasp out loud.

Steve whips around, and his face, though covered almost entirely in crimson, goes pale.

“Baby! You’re back early.”

You finger flies to the close button for the doors, pressing furiously as if that’s gonna make it happen faster. Steve races towards you, calling your name as you anxiously push the button at lightning speed. At the very last split second, just before Steve can stick his hand between the doors, they shut, and the lift begins to descend. You hear Steve’s frustrated “Fuck!” and banging above you as your stomach sinks with the elevator.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, what can you do? Steve had convinced you to quit your job, you pretty much lived exclusively off of him, but you can’t possibly stay with him, yet you’re rendering yourself homeless if you leave.

Once you get to the ground floor, you race out the door, leaving your bag behind and ignoring a concerned look from the doorman as you dart out. You phone buzzes in your pocket, and you know it’s Steve. You ignore the vibrating phone call and run towards your apartment. You’re sure you have some money cobbled together from Christmas cards over the years. No way in hell you can pack your things, and you know you’ll have to get rid of your phone, but you need at least a little bit of cash.

You’re sure you’re on the verge of dying from a lack of oxygen as you make it to your apartment and slam the door behind you, locking it, too, though you doubt that’ll keep him out.

You’re furiously rummaging through drawers when a gentle rap at the door makes your soul damn near leap out of your body.

“Honey?” Steve calls, voice calm as ever, as if he didn’t just commit such unspeakable violence, and who knows what fucking else he’s done that you’ve never seen? And how did he get here so quick? Is he still covered in blood and spit and flesh and evidence from his torture?

You try to tune him out as you look for the last of the envelopes to add to your small pile, but you can’t ignore his gentle voice trying to coax you into a state of relaxation he would soothe you into when your anxiety became too much to bare.

“Sweetheart, let’s talk about this.”

“Go away!” you manage to shriek through hyperventilation.

“Don’t do something stupid,” he warns, voice low in a way you’ve never heard him use before, and if you were terrified before, you were on the verge of a heart attack now.

With a few envelopes and no way to escape, you run to the window and peer down; you’re three floors up with some soft patches of grass beneath you. You don’t have time to even calculate it, surely adrenaline will get you through the pain if you’re severely hurt. You’re working up the nerve, and just as Steve busts the door in, yelling your name, you jump, luckily landing on your feet, but falling soon after, and briefly wondering if you’ve dislocated your knee as you scramble to stand and start running.

Steve shouts your name from the window but you don’t even look back, just running to God knows where. You’re sure you’ve run full speed for more than half an hour when, by such luck, you stumble across a really cheap looking motel. Just as you throw some cash to the guy to give you a key, you feel around in your pockets for your phone, panicked, and for the first time in your life, you’re glad to have lost it. He can’t find you now, at least not by tracking, you hope. Though you might have expected to be plagued by insomnia due to your stress, you pass right the fuck out as soon as your head touches the crusty pillow on the room’s stained mattress.

***

The sun isn’t out when you snap your eyes open, it couldn’t have been more than six hours since you ran away, then, but there’s no sign of Steve, and you let out the biggest breath of relief there ever could be. You head to the bathroom to shower and think of your next move, but it’s so filthy you wonder if you’re only making yourself dirtier by stepping in. You’re sweaty, and your body is physically tired from the sprinting. You flop onto the floor as you try to consider your next move. You’ve got an old friend living in Queens! You haven’t spoken to her in years, literally since high school, but since then she had practically been living on her own and raising herself and her sister, you can’t imagine she’s moved since then.

You have to walk a ways before you manage to get to an area you can hail a cab, and that takes a little more effort than you would have liked to exert. By some grace you manage to remember the address, and as you pull up, the house looks pretty much the same as all those years ago, giving you a glimmer of hope.

You drag yourself to the front door and manage to knock despite your weak body.

The door opens after a few moments to reveal the red hair you haven’t seen in forever, yet still, she looks virtually the same.

“Natasha!” you say as you collapse into her arms.

“Oh my God!” she cries, but she catches you with ease, “What are you doing here? What happened?”

You can barely speak, but she seems to somewhat understand as she leads to you to her living room and gently sets you down on the couch. Her blonde sister comes running into the room, eyes wide and panicked.

“Yelena!” Natasha calls, and hurriedly says words in Russian you could never understand. Yelena leaves and returns with a cup of water, which you gratefully accept, not realising just how thirsty you actually were. You gulp down the water like a dying fish and Yelena immediately leaves to get you another.

Sitting down and not on the verge of dehydration, you can speak, but your voice is still hoarse.

“I’m sorry for dropping in like this—”

“Don’t ever apologise for coming to me,” she cuts you off sternly, nearly angrily, like she’s irritated you thought you could ever bother her. She was this way in high school, but still, you haven’t spoken in years and years, and you feel bad for that. You know she can help you, or she’ll try to do everything in her power to do so, but you can’t let her get involved in mob business… like you were, unknowingly.

“I’m just in a rough spot,” you say, nodding thanks to Yelena as you take the second cup of water and down it even quicker than you did the first one. She sits down next to you, concerned, as Natasha is seated across from you on the opposite couch, leaning forward, forearms on her thighs as she listens attentively, “Don’t have a job or a place, or anyone else I can go to. I’ve got a bit of money, can you help me find a cheap place?”

“Just stay with us,” Yelena says, sitting up straight.

“Yeah,” Natasha agrees, “It’s clear there’s a lot going on, please, don’t be alone right now. You can stay here, I can help you get a job.”

Even after all this time, she treats you so beautifully, but you can’t let her get wrapped up in this; if Steve finds you, he might hurt Nat and Yelena, and you’d never be able to live with that (and maybe you won’t have to if he kills you too).

“No!” you say, a little louder than needed, causing the pair to give you strange looks, “Please,” you say, speaking softer now, “If you want to help me, can I just use your shower and you help me get a place? I know you know a lot of people.”

You can tell she wants to protest, but Nat only presses her lips into a thin line and exhales through her nostrils, nodding before standing up.

“Okay,” she concedes, “Yelena will get you some fresh clothes and I’ll make some calls.”

“Thank you,” you say, with more sincerity than you ever have in your life. Yelena helps you up, and you want to protest, but realise you’re a lot weaker than you thought, and you can’t tell if it’s mental or physical exhaustion.

You have to sit down in the shower, rinsing the stickiness off of you and watching it float in the few centimetres of water before being whisked down the drain.

You’re steadier on your feet once you’re clean and dressed, and you pop into the kitchen just as Nat hangs up her phone.

“Okay, I’ve got somewhere $95 a month, but it’s not great.”

You shake your head, “It’s perfect, thank you.” You counted around $650 in your cash, but if you get a job you can make it work.

“But you’re not leaving before you eat.”

Eating breakfast with Nat and Yelena takes the weight of the world off your shoulders, the three of you laughing about events from a decade ago with the same vigour you did when they first happened. But you can’t shake the feeling you have to leave, quick.

You’re nearly done helping the pair clean up when Nat comes up to you.

“Hey, what’s your number? We should stay in touch, even if just for a few months, just so I know you’re okay.”

“I lost my phone,” you sigh.

“I’m drop in every once in a while then, okay? And you can’t fight me on this. I’m honestly really worried about you,” she throws her dish rag over a chair and walks up to you, holding your shoulders as she looks into your eyes, “But I’m so glad you came. I’m always here for you. So is Yelena.”

You look to the doorway Yelena’s leaning against and she gives you a smile, but it’s a little sad.

“Thank you, Nat. I love you, so much. And I’m sorry it’s been so long.”

“These things happen, it’s fine. I’m just glad you’re in one piece. Looks like you had a hell of a night.”

You laugh shakily and nod, “I did. I’m surprised I didn’t dislocate a knee.”

“Oh my God… okay, conversation for another time, let’s just get you into your place. Do you have anything we need to take?”

You literally have no earthly possession with you at this point besides the envelopes, which you tuck into the inner pockets of Nat’s biker jacket she’s lending you. You refused to take any clothes other than one other pair of pants and a t-shirt, but Yelena promised she’d wash your others and bring them back, though you’re not even sure you want them anymore.

“I’ll be back with them tomorrow,” she says as she closes the door, leaving you alone in a flat you’re sure has mould.

There’s only a couch, a mattress, and a clock you’re not sure if displays the correct time, which is more than you were expecting. You flop down onto the slightly dirty couch and run your hands over your face. Now fed, hydrated, and somewhat rested, you can’t think of anything else to distract you from thoughts of Steve…

Okay, you’ll try to find a job tomorrow, for today, there’s nothing more you can do but try to sleep, even though it’s not even midday yet.

***

As promised, Yelena drops off your clothes the next morning, with the tears poorly sewn up, but you thank her for the effort and encourage her to leave the building before you do, in case Steve is watching, but you don’t cite that reason.

Half an hour later, you stride out, taking a walk down the dodgy streets, and luckily, you come across a bakery with an “URGENTLY HIRING” sign in the window. Your little streaks of luck would mean much more if it wasn’t overshadowed by everything else, and your luck ends when you’re half way into the interview.

“What?!” you gasp, trying to lean over to get a better look at the computer screen the interviewer (who’s just some teenager, probably a temp) is trying to shield from you.

“Ma’am, you have a charge for robbery, we can’t hire you.”

You exit in a daze, nearly numb at the realisation Steve would go this far. Why not just kill you? If he was worried you’d go to the police (the thought had never even crossed your mind until this moment), he’d just fucking kill you, or kidnap and torture you, he wouldn’t just leave you to rot out in the real world, that’s too risky.

You sadly make your way back to your flat, and who’s there when you open the door?

Steve stands with a crisp blue shirt in the centre of the room, and what can you do about it.

You fall to your knees and sob, face in your hands as you try to take in your fate. What did he want with you? You want to say you swear you’ll never tell anyone, that you haven’t told anyone, but you can’t speak through your gasping sobs.

“Hey, hey, hey,” he coos, slowly making his way over to you, like he’s worried he’ll scare you off, “It’s okay, don’t worry, I’d never hurt you, baby, you weren’t supposed to see that, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you, I didn’t want to hurt you, ever, but I have.”

He sighs, and you manage to look back up at him, a somber coat over his blue eyes.

“And look at you,” he gently raises your arm to trace a finger over scrapes and scratches you guess are from darting through narrow alleyways and through thick bushes, “Baby, and look at his,” he gestures around him to the damp flat, and you sniffle, “You can’t stay here, come back, I’ll take care of you, like I always have.”

“Th- the arrest—”

“I had to do that, baby, I’m sorry. I just had to. If you were with me that never would have happened, see? And it can all go away. Honey, I’m offering you the world, all you have to do is come with me.”

With teary eyes you look around. You can’t live here too long or you’ll get some kind of mould poisoning, you can’t get a job, you can’t endanger Nat and Yelena…

“Okay,” you sigh, defeated, and just as Steve starts to smile, there’s a knock at the door. Natasha calls your name and you tense up, Steve looks down at you with his head cocked to the side.

“I think you better answer that, sweetheart. Tell her you’re not gonna be here anymore.”

He pulls you to your feet and you gulp as you lean your head against the door.

“Yeah?” you answer.

“Let me in.”

If Steve sees Nat, he’ll know who to look for if you try anything like this again. But he’s sitting patiently on the couch, and he nods towards the door, beckoning you to open it. You take a deep breath and crack it open a bit.

“Hey, what’s up?” you think you say, but you can barely hear your words over the pounding of your heart.

“Is everything okay?” she asks, and you shoot a glance behind you, which you immediately regret when Nat bounces on her toes to get a look.

“Yeah,” you block her vision and bring her attention back to you, still trying to keep the door as close to closed as possible, “I… I have to go…”

“What?” she asks, “You just got here, what’s changed?”

“Things have worked out, it’s all good now, don’t worry—”

You freeze as you feel Steve behind you, his tall frame casting a shadow over you and Nat. You shut your eyes, willing this to be a trick of light or a hallucination due to stress, it can be anything but real.

“Hi. Steve Rogers,” he extends his hand, and Nat tentatively takes it, in only a way you know — to everyone else, she wouldn’t seem cautious, but you saw the clench in her right knee that gives away her switch to defence.

“Natasha Romanoff.”

Fuck, Nat, why did you say your name!?

“Nice to meet you. Don’t worry about her, she’s in good hands with me.”

She nods.

“Steve, could you go get my clothes for me? I think they’re in the bathroom or the bedroom, they’re the only two other rooms.”

He nods and turns away. Once he’s out of sight, Nat’s expression turns panicked as she scans your face, noticing tears welling. She doesn’t say it, but you can tell she’s pleading “Come with me.” You shake your head and quickly wipe away the tears before they fall, just as you hear Steve’s approaching footsteps again.

You shut the door just as he exits the bedroom with your neatly folded clothes from your recent run.

“Natasha washed these, I assume? Or was it Yelena?”

⍟

[taglist; @cjand10]

#dark!steve rogers #dark!steve rogers x reader #dark!steve rogers x you #dark!steve rogers x y/n #dark steve rogers #dark steve rogers x reader #dark steve rogers x you #dark steve rogers x y/n #dark avengers #dark!avengers

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jeanboyjean · 5 months

Text

you're the worst - ft jean kirstein. mdni!!

summary: you and jean are rivaling lawyers on the partner track and it’s your firm’s xmas party. what better way to prove you’re better than him than to fuck him?

content: (nsfw) f! reader, rivals to lovers, coworkers, fucking at your work christmas function … in a storage closet!! f! oral receiving. p in v. unprotected sex oops. big dick jean, light choking

a/n: inspired by (actual irl) boyfriend's beef with his coworker. she recently got a promotion over him and he wont shut up about it so i was like wait … i gotta write this down this is a great idea HOLD AWN. their xmas function is next week and theres always drama!! enemies to lovers is THE TROPE for meee so i may expand on this later on and make a long fic but for now this is it. ty to @gallliard + @cowgirlikets for beta reading bc im goofy!! tag: @poopwons

2.7k words

String lights twinkle from the ceiling as people mill around you. Music is thumping from the large speakers near the DJ stand as you make your way to the bar to get another drink. Your law firm’s annual christmas party is in full swing right now and it's around halfway through the night - about the point where everyone’s finished their dinners and washing them down with drinks. The cocktail tables you had initially stood around at the start of the night, schmoozing with partners, have been cleared to form a crowded dance floor. You carefully thread your way between your coworkers while they let their hair down after yet another busy year.

When you finally reach the bar, you flag down the bartender and order another drink. In the holiday spirit, the firm had requested custom themed drinks and he sets down a very festive vodka cranberry in front of you. You're taking a sip, turning away to lean your back against the counter when a figure next to you catches your eye.

You sigh. It’s your coworker, Jean Kirstein - a.k.a the bane of your existence.

The two of you had joined the firm at the same time as new grads and had moved up the ranks together. Now, he’s your biggest competition, the one thing standing in the way of you becoming junior partner. He’s good, you’ll give him that. You both are. The two of you are the firms biggest rising stars, pulling clients and racking up billables like it’s nothing.

Unfortunately, he’s also a bit of a dick. At first, you couldn’t tell if his cocky persona had been an act, but after working alongside him these years, you’ve just come to accept that he is naturally a loud, smug asshole. The breaking point had been when you had stayed up late one night in your third year, working on a proposal, only for Jean to rock in the next day with his own that overwrote everything you had done. You’ve never really forgiven him for stealing your thunder and have used every opportunity you can to shine over him. Since then, he’s been nothing more than your rival and enemy. This was even more so lately, what with the announcement coming up next week to reveal who would be getting a promotion.

Jean turns his head to follow the bartender and meets your eyes. You quickly turn away and sip your drink.

“Hey,” you hear him say. He’s moved across to stand next to you, leaning his side on the counter.

Inwardly, you tense a little, always on guard when he interacts with you. “Hi Kirstein,” you say stiffly. “What’s up?”

“Just thinking how good it’s going to feel when they call out my name for junior partner,” he grins smugly.

You roll your eyes at him. “Yeah, in your dreams.”

“Not my dreams if it’s a fact,” he sings and you bristle at his words. There’s no way he could know this for a fact. Everything’s been kept under wraps and you know you have just as much of a chance as him. You both went well over budget and the partners love you equally. It’s anyone’s game at this point.

He laughs. “I’m just kidding. I’m 99% sure it’s gonna be me but who knows what could happen. You might still have a shot.”

“Fuck off, Kirstein,” you snap at him, getting ready to leave.

“I’m kidding! I’m kidding!” He waves his hands. “It could be either of us. Or maybe even Reiner might pull an undercover steal and take it from us.”

You can’t help but laugh at his words. Reiner’s good but he’s far from partner material so you know Jean's taking the piss.

Jean straightens up, demeanour becoming a little more serious. “You know … I think it might actually be you this time.”

Your eyebrows raise. “Are you playing mind games with me, Kirstein?”

“Nah. I think you deserve it, that's all. You worked really hard on that last merger with the Reeves company and it paid off. All the partners are raving about it.”

His voice is sincere for once and your mouth hangs open in shock. You can’t remember the last time you had a conversation with Jean that wasn’t the two of you throwing jabs back and forth. It’s no secret to anyone that you can’t stand the other’s guts.

It's strange. For some reason, he's smiling at you and that fact that you don't feel the need to snap back at him makes you want to smack him.

The lighting at the bar brightens up his sandy brown hair like a halo around his face and his eyes glow as they stare intently at you. Fuck you Jean Kirstein and your perfect hair and your perfect face.

“You look nice today,” he admits, gaze travelling down to give you a once over. The surprises won’t stop coming.

“Yeah, you clean up well too I guess.” It's not a lie - he's definitely attractive. The problem with Jean though is he knows it. You have to be careful with what you say so as to not feed his already bloated ego.

He smirks, obviously pleased by your admission. He hums, eyes wandering around at your surrounding before landing back on you. There’s a split second where you swear they flicker down to your lips briefly. “You wanna go dance?”

Your eyes widen in surprise. “You want to dance ... with me,” you say flatly, eyebrows furrowing.

“Yeah, why not?” He gestures to his body. “You know you want to.”

You roll your eyes. “Fine, Kirstein. I’ll indulge you this one time since you so clearly want to.”

Whirling around, you down your drink then stalk away to the dance floor. You hear him snicker behind you as he follows. Once you find a free spot, you turn to face him, suddenly a little unsure. He’s got a devilish grin on his face as he steps in closer to you. His hands come to rest on your waist and your body lights up at his touch. Hesitantly, your arms come up to wrap around his neck as you let the music guide your body, alcohol pumping through your blood.

After a few minutes, his head dips down and you shiver when his nose grazes your neck. Lips at your ear, he murmurs, “I mean it by the way. You look really good.”

“Don’t tell me you have feelings for me now, Kirstein,” you say in response, trying your hardest to hide how his words rock you to your core. He doesn’t say anything and just laughs, shoulders shaking.

When you look up at him, his eyes are fixed on you, glowing molten lava. Your breath catches in your throat. It feels like the world disappears beneath your feet as you find yourself trapped in his gaze.

Wanting to break free of the moment, you spin around. His hands are still on your waist so you find yourself pressed with your back against his chest. His grip tightens, hips still rocking to the music. You let yourself be moved along too, trying your best to calm your racing heart.

The song is slow and bass heavy, soulful vocals crooning - a little sensual for a conservative law firm like this. When the last few notes trail off, his head drops again to your shoulder and you can feel more than hear him groan.

“Shit,” you hear him mutter. He goes to move away from you but it’s too late. There's an unmistakable hardness pressing firm against your ass. You still and slowly turn to face him.

He has the decency to look embarrassed now, sheepish expression on his face as he puts his hands up in surrender. “I’m sorry, I just got carried away. Please … pretend nothing happened.”

You stare at him, blood thumping in your veins. Despite everything, heat pools in your stomach while a wetness builds between your legs. You shake your head and grab your hand. “Let’s go.”

“What-”

You drag him through the crowd, turning into the corridor towards the bathrooms. With a tug, you pull him into a storage closet and shut the door behind you. He looks at you in a mix of confusion and curiosity. “What are we doing in here?”

You roll your eyes and step in towards him. “Do you want to do this or not?”

His eyes widen and they flicker from yours to your mouth and his breath catches in his throat when your tongue slides out to lick your lips.

Without a word he closes the distance between the two of you. His hands come to grip your jaw as he presses his mouth hard against yours. You share a messy kiss, your hands tangling in his hair, his sliding down your body.

He places wet kisses down your neck as one hand cups a breast, the other groping at your ass. You moan, head falling back as he sucks into your sensitive skin and pinches a nipple through your dress.

“I want to take this off,” he almost pleads, tugging at the fabric. “Can I take it off?”

You nod, letting him unzip and feeling it fall to the floor. His eyes roam your body. “Fuck. You’re so hot,” he groans.

He walks you back until your back hits the closed door behind you. Kisses trail down your body as he falls to his knees and hooks a leg up over his shoulder. He licks a wet stripe up your inner thigh, pulling your underwear to the side to reveal your glistening folds. Wasting no time, he dives forward to lick at your wet slit.

“You taste so good,” he moans into your skin. You’re breathless above him, eyes screwing shut with pleasure as he works his magic.

He takes your sensitive clit into his mouth, swirling around with his tongue and sucking. A finger dips into your folds and you clench tight at the intrusion. He curls it inside you, searching for the sensitive bundle of nerves and it’s obvious when he finds it because you jerk above him, moaning in delight. You feel his lips lift in a smirk and he’s relentless now. Another finger joins and he’s pumping, massaging your slick walls, still sucking at your clit. Your toes curl, heat building in your core.

“Come on, pretty girl. I want to feel you cum on my face,” he moans into your soaking cunt. At his words, it only takes a little more before you feel yourself let go and your orgasm takes over. Waves of pleasure rip through you as you pulse and squeeze around him. Your knees buckle and he catches you with one hand, pinning your hip against the surface behind you.

He grins as he removes his fingers, sucking them clean before wiping his face with the back of his hand. He stands, pulling your face into a messy open mouthed kiss. It feels nasty, the way you're panting into his mouth as you taste yourself on his tongue.

You reach down to palm at his crotch, feeling his hard cock straining against his pants. Eagerly, you pull them down and release him, feeling him hot and heavy in your hand. With all of his arrogance, you had been sure he was overcompensating for a lack of something downstairs but now you're sorely (or maybe thankfully) mistaken. He's easily the biggest you've ever had.

“Shit, I don’t have a condom,” he says.

“Oh,” you say in response, but all you can think is, damn he's big. You shake your head. “I’m clean and on the pill so I’m fine if you are.”

Jean grins. “Sounds good to me.”

He kisses you again before spinning you around to face the door. Your hands fall in front to catch you and he presses into your back. His cock is hard against your ass and he takes a moment to grind against you slowly. He guides it with his hand to slide a few times over your slit, gathering the wetness. You hold in a whine, already a little overstimulated when he finally lines himself up and pushes in slowly. There's a little resistance but you relish in the feeling of stretching around him.

“So tight,” he moans into your hair, cock throbbing inside you.

Jean moves slowly to begin with, letting you adjust to his size but it’s not long before his pace picks up and he’s fucking you in earnest. His hips thrust against your ass, cock sliding in and out, reaching areas you didn’t think were possible. You moan as you rock back into him, desperately meeting his movements.

Your head falls back onto his shoulder and your eyes screw shut as you feel him driving in relentlessly, letting your body go limp in pleasure. One of his hands grips the door next to yours, while the other reaches up to wrap around your throat to hold you up against him. He’s only resting his hand there really, but it makes you clench around him even tighter.

At the sensation, he hisses, hips stuttering. “Oh, you like that?” His hips snap in hard. “I knew you would, you dirty girl.”

His fingers tighten around your neck, lightly cutting off your air supply. It’s enough to make your head spin, stars forming in your vision. He pants into your hair, softly muttering curses as he pounds in quicker. You’re at his mercy now, moaning freely, as your orgasm builds again.

Legs shaking in the effort to hold yourself up, you lose yourself in the moment. Electricity streaks through your body, lighting up all of your nerves. The lack of air is making your limbs tingle, heightening your senses. The hand he’s using to steady himself falls down to your hip, sliding down to your pussy. You jerk when his fingers find your clit, the pleasure almost too much to bear. With a few quick circles at your sensitive nub, you're crying out as you cum around his cock. Your walls clench tight, uncontrollably and your hands claw at the door.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he moans, hips stuttering, all finesse out the window. “You’re squeezing me so tight. I’m gonna fucking come.”

He fucks into you without abandon, using both hands to grip your hips tight enough to leave bruises. He pounds into you relentlessly, the slick sound of your skin meeting each other filling the air, before burying into you all the way as he cums. His hips falter and slow as he reaches his high, spilling deep inside you. His forehead drops onto your shoulder, as he tries to catch his breath and carefully, he pulls out, his cum leaking out of your cunt down your thigh.

You fall forward, catching yourself with your forearms against the door. You turn around to face him. His hair has fallen out of its careful styling, a few stray strands sticking on his damp forehead. He grins at you, blinking slowly, lids heavy with contentment. You’re a little surprised when he dips down to capture your mouth in another kiss. His lips are more gentle now, movements softer as his hands lightly hold your jaw. When he pulls away, you’re breathless and frazzled, completely taken aback by the entire sequence of events.

“You good?” he asks you, eyes twinkling with mirth.

You nod in response, racking your brain to think of something to say but coming up empty.

“That was so hot,” he says in your silence. “I knew all that tension between us would lead to something great.” He smirks. “Didn’t think it would be so easy to get you like putty in my hands.”

You straighten at his words, batting his hands from your warm cheeks. “Fuck off, Kirstein. It was just unexpected. You’ll see. Next time you’re the one that’s gonna be putty.”

His chest heaves with laughter as he bends down to pick up your dress and hand it to you. “Next time, huh? Good to know.”

“You're the worst,” You groan, making a face at him as you step into your dress and slide the straps back up over your shoulders. You turn around, holding your hair up with your hands to let him zip it back up.

A shiver runs down your spine when his fingers graze your bare skin. He presses a light kiss against the side of your exposed neck. ��Let’s get back out there then,” he murmurs into your skin.

You pretend your legs don’t buckle a little at the feeling of his touch and shake yourself off, smoothing down your dress. You can still feel the ghost of him inside you and his sticky cum dripping down your inner thighs.

Next time, Jean Kirstein. You’ll see.

#attack on titan #jean x reader #jean kirstein #jean kirschtien #jean kirschstein #aot x reader #✎ . chloe wrote smth

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viviennevermillion · 9 months

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hello!! i'm absolutely in love with your writing and your posts!! (they're so inspiring seriously)

anyway- i was wondering if i could request Blade with a chronically ill s/o? no specific illness required! just the reader generally being under the weather a lot and exhausted, and how he reacts & takes care of them :)

thank you!! have a lovely day/night <3

With a chronically ill s/o

✧ ɴᴏᴛᴇꜱ: thank you so much for the request! i feel this bc i've just been diagnosed with two of 'em chronic illnesses (GERD and cough variant asthma) this year and it's been wearing me down before i figured out how to properly manage it. i hope you like this request! also you said i'm converting you to sampo so i'm adding him to this post.

if any readers would like to be on my star rail taglist, feel free to notify me (+ for which characters you want to be tagged). if i find you're on my dni, i will block instead.

✧ ɴᴏᴡ ᴘʟᴀʏɪɴɢ: i'll be there — gabriella bee

✧ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ: blade, sampo

✧ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: none

Blade is a very patient and attentive boyfriend. He already thinks existence is a pain so he does whatever he can to make sure you feel better and comfortable. When you have a particularly bad day he'll definitely stay with you if you want him to.

When he first learns of your illness, he makes sure to do enough research to understand it. Kafka found him sitting at a desk with a stack of books about your condition to make sure he's prepared for anything. She'd lean against the door frame with a smile on her face, watching him for a moment before making herself known. "That's so sweet of you", she chuckles and Blade turns his head. "Mind your own business."

Kafka definitely snitches and tells you about how much effort he put into understanding you and your condition

He makes sure to talk with you about it as well. He asks you what symptoms you have, how they feel for you and what you found helps you when you feel under the weather.

Literally asks Elio to predict what your condition will be like in the coming days. If it's a day where your illness flares up particularly bad, he makes sure to get all the items that help you and medications you need in advance.

He does not tell you that he does this; you just think the Stellaron Hunters are very medically prepared.

If Elio predicts that you'll have a particularly good day, Blade makes sure to take you out on a date. Maybe a picnic in nature or a nice dinner somewhere where there isn't a chance of someone trying to arrest him.

He listens to what you say you need at the moment. If you need space and rest, he will happily oblige but if you feel better with his comfort, he'll lay down next to you and wraps an arm around you from behind, snuggling close to you.

Blade has a satisfied smile on his face when he finds you in a peaceful sleep despite your symptoms or pain. He presses a soft kiss to your forehead, careful not to wake you. He feels you snuggle closer to him in your sleep and it makes his heart flutter to find a smile on your face.

If he feels like you might need to eat or might be hungry when you wake up, he pays someone to bring you a nice (and suitable) meal to your doorstep. When you wake up, he asks you how you are feeling and tells you that he hopes you had a nice rest while nuzzling your cheek. "I got you lunch", he says softly and exactly in that moment the door to your room opens and you get your meal.

He assists you with whatever tasks may fall on your plate if you're ready to accept his help. He makes sure the other Stellaron Hunters go easy on you and don't give you any tasks that you feel you might not be able to handle on days where your illness flares up.

If you sent him a text message saying you're not feeling well and need his comfort at the moment, he'd literally drop everything to be by your side.

Blade has lived for a long time and he has seen quite a few cases of chronic illness so he's fairly adapt at being there for you. He's worried about you sometimes but he also knows you're living with chronic illness every day, so you know best what helps you and he trusts that you will take good care of things and reach out to him when you need him.

If you need a distraction, he'll be happy to read to you or play a board game with you or take a walk etc.; whatever you feel up to in the moment!

Sampo is super worried about you at first when you tell him you have a chronic illness because he's super inexperienced with the topic and has no idea what to do whatsoever. So he asks you what that means for you and what exactly your illness is, but there's definitely unrest in his voice.

With time, he fusses over you less and learns to correct some of the worst case scenarios in his head when you told him about it. Sometimes you need to bonk him with a "Sampo, I'm not dying" reminder but he's getting there.

Of course he could look up your condition in books and inform himself about it properly like Blade, but this idea does not occur to him. Instead, if you tell him that you're feeling under the weather, he just like,,,, gets everything, just to be sure. He reassures you that with Natasha around, you'll be in good hands and he promises to her not to try and scam her anymore so long as she takes good care of his love.

You text him that you're not feeling well and that your illness is flaring up and two hours later Sampo enters your home with four comically large bags. "Hey love, I'm home", he calls out to you, "I didn't know what you needed, so I got everything to be sure."

And he really did get everything. You rummage through the bags and raise an eyebrow at him like: "Sampo, what in the name of the Aeons is all this stuff?" There's 3 additional blankets, a hot water bottle, several over-the-counter medications, a couple of prescription meds that Sampo swears he "actually had a prescription for, don't worry about where I got them", healing crystals which he knows are "probably a scam, but there's no harm in trying and they compliment your eyes"; herbs, soup and medical equipment.

A lot of it has actually 0 to do with your condition but he wasn't 100% sure, so he just brought it. You may not need a humidifier, but you own one now.

The highlight is when he says "hold up, there's one more thing", exits your place and comes back a minute later with an entire echocardiac machine. You might not even have a heart condition. "Sampo...what- did you steal that?", you raise an eyebrow. "I found it and thought it might be useful, so I borrowed it", he says and kisses you to distract you from the topic.

Needless to say from that day on you only send him out with a shopping list and tell him to only explicitly get what you told him you need.

If you ever have any heart symptoms he's like "See? This is why we have the echo machine." "Did you learn literally anything?", you shake your head and sigh.

Sampo may not be the most adapt at handling your chronic illness, but he's got the spirit and Natasha is willing to explain things to him as well.

Regardless of how you're feeling, Sampo always manages to make you smile at the end of the day.

When you need rest he's more than happy to cuddle you and spoil you. He'd wrap you in a blanket and repeatedly kisses your temple, whispering to you that he loves you. "Don't worry", he speaks softly and kisses your forehead, "Sampo Koski will always be here for you. I'm sure you'll feel better soon. At least you don't have a Stellaron in your body." "What's a Stellaron?" "Don't worry about it."

Overall, he's confused but he's very dedicated.

#honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail fluff #honkai star rail blade #hsr x reader #honkai star rail headcanons #blade x you #blade x reader #hsr blade #blade #sampo koski #sampo x you #sampo #sampo koski x reader #sampo x reader #blade headcanons #sampo headcanons

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theconstantsidekick · 3 months

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heyyyy...how are you doing.????

I was just wondering that if you have the idea of writing one shots for static verse , could you.. maybe write something where static takes Bucky as her date to her Harvard reunion...

may be when she was studying , everyone used to be so jealous of her cuz she is basically a sassy smartass...but now in the reunion they are acting so nice because she is a lawyer/avenger.. Definitely faking niceness...

and Jamie boy being too proud of his girl...

The Class of '92 | b.b

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Stark!Reader, Tony Stark x Stark!Reader (siblings)

Genre: Fluffy with a chance of angst.

Summary: Y/n goes to the Harvard Reunion to reap the benefits of the alumni fees she's been giving out for the last three and a half decades.

(This takes place after the events of Static: Get, Set, Glitch. However, it can be read as a stand-alone piece. But it’s fun. I promise.)

Warnings: Swearing, Mentions of Recreational Drug Use, Mentions of Sex, Minors DNI, 18+ Only.

a/n: I think I strayed a little away from the original premise? I'm sorry?

Bucky Barnes, The Boyfriend (other one-shots) | The Falcon, The Winter Soldier and Static | Static: Get, Set, Glitch | Static Verse Masterlist

If she were being completely honest, she never entertained the idea of going to her class reunions. The whole ‘being-half-alien-aging-like-a-nebula-and-looking-the-same-for-years-on-end’ thing kinda took the wind out of her sails whenever she even thought about accepting the invite.

But that was then.

Now people know who she is, what she is. No more reasons to hide, no Ross on her ass trying to hunt her down for the Accords, no giant purple grape looking alien knocking at the door threatening to burn the world down, no younger brother constantly being confused as her older brother.

Fuck. She’ll never get used to that.

The moment the invitation popped up on her laptop screen, her first reaction was to call Tony.

“You’ve got Tony Stark. I’m probably busy saving the world or curing a hangover. You can leave a message at the beep but I only get back to people if they’re hot. F.R.I.D.A.Y. will delete your message if you’re not. You’ve been warned.” The pre-recorded voice-message cut off with a beep.

Exhaling harshly, she spoke softly, “I was calling to ask you if you wanted to go to my reunion with me. Free booze, snobby assholes, jealous losers who hate me for being smarter, and did I mention the free booze? Totally your scene.” She fidgeted with the folder on her desk, nervous about a voicemail. “But you’re busy… being a dead dick so… So I guess I’ll just skip it this year as well.”

Life had other plans, though.

Well, her beloved boyfriend James Bucky Barnes did.

“I can go with you?” He offered.

“What?” she asked him, confused.

“To the reunion,” he answered easily, his eyes still fixed on the omelet he was making for her. “I can go with you. Can’t guarantee I’ll be as fun company as your brother, but I can show you a good time. Pull out all the stops, be the trophy husband of a lifetime.” He smiled at her then. “Only if you want to, though.”

And now here they were.

“This was a bad idea,” she comments, sipping on her drink.

“Why?” Bucky asks her, more confident than her—which don’t get her wrong was hot as fuck, but very unlike them.

“They’re all… they’re all—”

“Old?” Bucky finished with an amused smile.

She couldn’t help the smile that slipped out.

He looks good, comfortable and sen-fucking-sational. He’s wearing a black tux with a white shirt and black bowtie. She’d been a little too busy trying to decide what to wear to have noticed him changing into the outfit. Eventually, having finalized on a white twill suit and a blood red silk shirt with a matching tie, she stepped out of her room. And he was a fucking vision.

Looking at him might just be her favourite hobby. She could pursue that shit as a vocation.

“That happens sometimes.” Bucky tells her. “People do get old, you know?”

She looks around at the crowd. They’re at the prime location for people watching, standing at the bar, far in the corner of the vast room. The lights are dim, only sprinkles of yellow scattered around the venue, the rest is overshadowed by a sea of ocean blue. So, she takes the moment, the isolation and takes a while to soak in his words.

‘People do get old.’

“Yeah… yeah. I know,” she responds solemnly.

He takes a moment too, not to look at the crowd. Bucky seldom looks at anything with interest apart from her. He does the same now, he looks at her, studying the expression on her face. With his assessment done, he says, “I’ve never seen you nervous before.”

“I’m not nervous,” Y/n bites back, scolding him with absolutely no heat whatsoever.

“I’ve never seen you anxious before,” he amends.

Rolling her eyes, “I’m not anxious.”

“Scared?”

She has to look at him then. Brows furrowed, she frowns.

Bucky throws up his hands instantly, admitting his mistake with an adorable smile.

“I used to steal Bruce’s homemade tacos before he learned to control the Hulk,” she smiles too. “I’m not afraid of anything.”

He takes a step closer to her, his words are softer when he speaks but bold enough for her to hear with ease. Gently placing his hand on the small of her back, he asks, “Then what’s wrong, sweetheart?”

“I wasn’t exactly… well, let’s just say there’s a reason I avoided going to class when I was in college,” she answers. Bucky’s face scrunches up at the insinuation.

But before he can enquire about it any further, before she can warn him, a voice cuts in.

“That was because you used to be a facetious little know-it-all,” the man comments. “You didn’t need the classes anyway.” He smiles, and there is no warmth in it.

Bucky must notice because his arm tightens just a little around her.

This was bound to happen sooner or later. She decides to roll with the punches. She knew what she was getting into when she came here.

“Charles Walton,” she greets him with a smile, just as dead as his. “Been a long time.”

“I’d say the same, but you look exactly the same as you did back then—not a hair out of place. I’m not sure time even passed,” he jokes, or well he tries.

“What can I say? It’s the price of being an Avenger,” she bites back.

He laughs, a hollow thing. “Hey, Milkovich!” He yells out over her head. “Guess who showed up!”

Well, fuck.

That one shout is enough to draw the attention of the entire class of 92. Cause almost instantly there’s a crowd gathered around Bucky and her. There’s chuckles and whispers among them—some are bewildered at her presence while others seem itching to make this a battlefield.

“Ah, the famous Avenger,” a female voice chimes in. “You're famous around these parts, you know?” She takes a couple steps closer to them. Assessing her from head to toe, “Not just for being an Avenger, but being so elusive that you didn’t show up for a single reunion… But at least now we know why.”

“Nice to see you too, Seline,” Y/n tells her, calm and centered.

“Shit, Stark!” Mickey Milkovitch balks. “You look the fucking same!”

And fine, she can take it from Milkovich. The guy was always crass but never rude. He just lacked a fucking filter.

So the smile that she smiles is open and kind. “Thanks, Mick. I could say the same about you.” She’s not lying. The guy looks pretty good for his age… and for the copious amount of alcohol she remembers him consuming during every party and every lecture.

“Not as good as you, holy shit! You really don’t age, do you?” He asks and it’s genuine so again, he gets a pass.

Nodding, “Not enough. My telomeres don’t work right, I think. Rest of me is human… mostly.”

And Mickey seems to take a lot of pleasure in her answer—smiling, he holds up his glass to cheers. She meets him with her own glass.

“Can’t lie, it’s a surprise to see you here,” another woman speaks up. “We thought we’d seen the last of you at the graduation.”

“Sorry to disappoint you, Candace. I saw the invite and I just couldn’t help myself,” Y/n bites back.

“Didn’t have time for us before?” Candace Huston asks.

“Ah.” Y/n never really liked these snobby prep school kids. Even after all these years, they’ve somehow managed to not change at all. She doesn’t know why she expected them to. “I was a little caught up.”

“Saving the world?” Archer Bass suggests, mocking.

“Yes,” Bucky cuts in before she can form some modest version of that answer. She can always count on him to stump the opposition while she reloads. “That’s the day job. Doesn’t pay as well as whatever it is you guys have been doing. And oh! Odd hours, really odd. But it’s good work, wouldn’t you say, sweetheart?”

She smiles, finding comfort in the warmth of his gaze. “Could’ve been worse. Could’ve been a Personal Injury Lawyer.” Bucky smiles at that and fuck if that doesn’t just rile her up. “Oh! I almost forgot, this is my boyfriend—”

She’s cut off by Charles ‘Chickenshit’ Walton, “The Winter Soldier. We know who he is.”

“At least he’s a looker,” Seline snickers. “I’ll give you that.”

“The two of you make a great couple—The Winter Soldier and Static, ex assassin and ex assassin,” Candace adds with a snide smile. There’s more catty bullshit like that from the rest of the crowd but she kinda zones out.

And fuck it all to hell.

Her entire college life was avoiding these fools.

All her life she’d watched shows about the shitshow that is high school. She hadn’t attended it, of course but Harvard was supposed to be her first try. It was supposed to be her playing her hand at being utterly and completely normal, one with the crowd. College wasn’t supposed to be as brutal as highschool but not as uncaring as a desk job. It was supposed to be an easy middle between the two. Part of her was excited even. But the reality wasn’t all that movies made it out to be.

They were snobs, the fucking lot of them. Always looking at every tiny little detail, studying it a microscope, planning and scheming to find a chink in her armour just to break her down. She didn’t understand why then. Why they didn’t like her, why she was the outsider. Because despite everything she wasn’t exactly that different from them, not to their knowledge at least. Howie was fucking loaded, ipso facto she was too. None of them knew her past but everytime they looked at her their eyes were always hungry, always searching for some weakness.

She gets it now.

It wasn’t hunger. It wasn’t some twisted version of distrust.

It was straight up jealousy.

They were jealous of her.

They were jealous of her back then and if possible they are even more jealous of her now.

Y/n just laughs. She can’t help it, okay? It’s hilarious.

She really, genuinely believed at one point in her life that these fucking dipshits would figure out her secret, when all they were looking for was a way to top the class. These are some of the smartest individuals she’s come across—graduates of Harvard Law. Fuck! They were just kids fighting for brownie points when she was fighting for her freedom. God fucking damn it, she’s been so damn dumb.

So she laughs.

Bucky looks at her for a second, raises his brow in concern. She waves her hand at him, letting him know she’s fine. It’s just funny.

“Something funny, Stark?” Archer asks, wearing a smile on his face that contradicts his tone which is just a little too shrill to be considered calm.

She shakes her head but continues chuckling.

“Don’t wanna share it with the rest of the class?” Charles bites. “Guess some things just don’t change.”

Y/n laughs a little harder. “My god, Charlie. You sure I’m the only one not aging here? Cause you sound like a sullen teenager.” She waves off his response before he can even form one. “Anyway, as I was saying, this is my boyfriend, Sergeant James Buchanon Barnes.” She drops a kiss on his cheek. “You can call him Sergeant Barnes… Well, except Milkovich. He’s just Barnes to you, Mick.”

Mickey seems pleased with her words, “Nice to meet you, Barnes.” He extends his hand to Bucky who takes it without hesitation. “Always thought your arm was really cool.”

That one throws Bucky a little. He looks back at her, eyes big and a sneaky curve of his lip. It screams, ‘Where the fuck did you find this guy?’ But like she said, no filter on that one.

“Why does Milkovitch get special treatment?” Seline rebukes her.

Y/n just shrugs. “Cause he wasn’t a dick to me in college?” Isn’t it obvious?

“Excuse me?” Candace exclaims like the hit was personal. “We were never anything but generous, which was more than what you deserved considering the shit you pulled.”

“One, that is wildly inaccurate. You were all dicks, all of you. But I don’t think I blame you for it, pompous kids do what pompous kids see. And two, what shit did I pull?” She waves at the bartender asking for a refill.

“You are seriously going to pretend you don’t know?” Archer throws back.

Taking the last sip from her drink she sets the now empty glass down on the nearest table. “Yes, enlighten me.”

“You were sleeping with Professor Keating to get the answers to all the tests,” Charles answers, disdain clear on his face.

“I—” She looks from his face to Bucky's, who feigns shock before breaking into a smile.

Charles cuts her off. “You hid it well enough but everyone knew you spent most of the free time between classes in his office. You scored well in every single one of his tests, which were impossible to crack and he was always so very eager to call on you in class.” He scoffs. “We were never able to find any concrete evidence to pin you down, we’ll give you that. But that doesn’t mean we were naive enough not to see it.”

“I—” She begins laughing again. “Professor Keating.” Fuck.

“What’s so fucking funny, Stark?” Archer pushes her. Well, he tries but before he can grab the collar he was reaching for, Bucky’s metal arm is already pulling him off.

“Easy there, cowboy,” Bucky warns.

“Get your hands off me!” Archer tries to brush Bucky off, pushing him back, trying desperately to get out of his grip, but come on. It’s Bucky. “What do you think you’re doing?!”

“Saving you the ass beating of a lifetime, buddy boy. Be glad it’s me and not her,” Bucky comments causally as he twists Archer’s arm behind his back.

“It’s fine, Sunshine. Let him go,” she coos at him sweetly.

And because he’s Bucky, he urges Archer to take a few steps away from her and then simply lets him go.

“Are you still mentally unstable?! How dare you touch me? I’m gonna sue your Nazi ass for that!” Archer warns.

“I mean, you can try. But he’s got a great lawyer,” Y/n tells him, grabbing her new drink from the waiter. She takes a sip. “Got him pardoned for countless assassinations. You think assault is where I lose that battle?” The blood drains from Archer’s face, all the color is gone. “And as for the Professor Keating matter,” she giggles again, before forcing herself to compose. “He was ex-KGB. I used to hang out with him after class to find out if he knew the updated location of HYDRA bases.”

“Ex-KGB?” Seline asks, just as pale as Archer.

“You expect us to buy that bullshit story? His name was Arthur Keating for Christ’s Sake!” Candace shouts.

“Which he changed when he asked for political asylum here. His real name was Boris Levitsky. His family was murdered by HYDRA when he couldn’t free some official high in their ranks. After that he was fairly willing to spill all about them,” Y/n explains.

“To a college student?” Charles question, clearly not buying it.

“To an undercover S.H.I.E.L.D. operative,” she corrects.

“You were an undercover S.H.I.E.L.D. operative back then?” Bucky asks her, reclaiming his position next to her with a steady arm around her waist.

“No,” she tells him. “But he didn’t know that.”

Bucky’s face breaks into a proud smile. The sprinkles of yellow around the venue seem to be attracted to her sun. They fall softly on his face, lighting up the curve of his cheekbones, the smile lines around his lips. He seems so much more comfortable in his skin than he used to before. And he shines brighter, if that was even possible. She thinks maybe she’ll have to carry sunglasses around from now on.

“How the fuck did you score so well then?” Seline question, furious at the revelation.

“Did you guys ever think maybe she’s just that fucking smart?” Bucky throws out, kissing her forehead. “My sweetheart’s a fucking genius!” He leans in closer. “A lesser man would be very intimidated by that, you know?”

He’s so close, she can taste his scent on the tip of her tongue. The smell of summer in the woods, and remnants of leather. It drives her insane.

“A lesser man, huh?” She teases. “You’re not intimidated by it then?”

“Oh I am,” he tells her. “Just not very intimidated.”

God, he’s so fucking beautiful.

“Hey! Lovebirds! We’re not done here,” Charles jumps in.

Rolling her eyes and reluctantly turning back to face the asshat, she asks, “What do you want?”

“Winter Soldier here might think you’re all that, but I know better.” He looks like he’s about to spontaneously combust into flames purely out of anger. “You’re not that smart. Unlike you, some of us worked hard to get where we are. We didn’t rely on fake daddy’s money to make something of ourselves.”

Now that’s just stupid. “Charlie… Come on, man. Howard Stark was not my father, he was my best friend, I just needed a cover. And his money got me nowhere. And, and! The fucker went and got killed before I even graduated.” Bucky’s head falls at the mention, but her time at college was too closely knit to his passing for her to not mention it. “But even after all that if you think I got in because he bribed the board—I didn’t fucking graduate Summa Cum Laude by kicking my feet and batting my eyelashes. I barely came to college to even do that with perfect follow through. That was my dropping-acid-and-doing-fireball-shots phase. I’m surprised to be alive, honestly.” She takes a step towards him. “Maybe in retrospect it seems like everything was handed to me on a silver platter now that my life seems so glorious on the outside, but that wasn’t the case, dude. Part of me wanted to be a lawyer so I could fight for my freedom if the time ever came.”

“Freedom from what, Stark?!” He yells out. “Your life is fucking perfect! You’re an Avengers, governments step aside to make way for you. You’ve got a super hot boyfriend who can clearly throw a punch, what more could you possibly want?”

Tony.

I want my brother back.

The answer is right there, on the tip of her tongue. But they don’t need to know it. They don’t really deserve it. Not their fault—most people don’t.

So, instead she steps back, clasps her hands into Bucky’s. “Nothing, actually. You’re right. I couldn’t ask for more.” Someone in the back catches her eye then. “Lighten up, Charlie.” She looks around at the rest of them. “You’re supposed to be the brightest minds of the nation, not petty fucking 6th graders. Lighten the fuck up, kids. I assure you there are worse things to be than fucking Harvard graduates.” She pulls Bucky by the hand and this hunk of a man follows along without an ounce of hesitation, as always. She yells out without turning “I’d say it was nice to see you guys, but it really fucking wasn’t.” But then her steps halt. She turns, “All except you, Milkovitch. It really was nice to see you again. Call me sometime, we should catch up.”

“I don’t have your number,” Mickey replies innocently.

She smiles. “Fine then, I’ll call you.”

“You don’t have my number.”

Her smile just turns mischievous.

Mickey picks up instantly. “Of course,” he says, a little embarrassed. “World class spy—I forgot.”

Hugging the man quickly, she turns and grabs Bucky by the hand again and begins walking off.

“This was amazing! Let’s do this again next year,” Bucky yells out, waving at the gaping faces they’ve left behind.

“Shut up, James.” She hushes him without heat.

“Where you taking me, sweetheart?” He asks, but there is no real curiosity in his question.

So she says as much. “You don’t really seem that curious about it.”

“I’m asking for the fuck of it—to hear you talk. I love hearing you talk.”

“Sap.” She’s smiling.

“I’ll follow you anywhere, don’t care where you take me,” he promises.

They’ve stopped walking, her target is in her eyesight so she’s all too worried. So she takes the moment to drink him in.

“FUCKING SAP,” she chides, pushing him a little.

Bucky (pretends to) stumble. “Only for you. Always for you,” he tells her, honest and true. He covers the distance between them with a few short steps. His hand comes to caress her jaw, gently—always so gently. He leans in. His lips brush against her as he speaks, “Till the end of my days, sweetheart.”

“Till the end of mine,” she corrects him and then closes the gap.

The best thing about kissing Bucky is that it always feels like the first time. No matter however many times she kisses this boy, every time it feels overwhelmingly new. It feels like her mind is melting, like she’s turning to mush under his hands—one flesh, the other metal. He always knows how to give her exactly what he craves, maybe because she mostly just craves him.

With one hand on her cheek, the other on the small of her back, Bucky pulls her in closer. His tongue tastes of whiskey, but his lips are all him. They are delectable enough to eat. It takes everything in her not to bite down too hard. But she can’t resist the urge to pull his lip between her teeth, biting just hard enough to leave them red. He kindly obliges by slipping his tongue into the mix. He’s so hungry for her, he’s always so fucking hungry for her.

Absent-mindedly she thinks maybe he feels it too. The inexplicable newness in the repeated action of kissing each other. Because hunger like that—hunger like his, seems insatiable. She would give away all of herself to it. Let him consume her whole. She will do just that… Just not here, not now.

Reluctantly, with great strength and determination, she pulls herself away.

Bucky, this fucker, whimpers. “What?” He whines.

She can’t help but chuckle. “I need to one thing then we can just get the fuck out of here and do more of that—a lot more of that.”

He pretends to think for a second but she already knows she’s won him over. “Fine,” he says after a beat. “What do you need?”

“An answer,” she tells him, before fixing herself a bit and walking over to the woman who’d caught her eye before.

She’s a tall woman, short black hair—a pixie cut that she pulls off flawlessly. She’s standing alone, smoking in the open area of the venue, looking out at the scene ahead of them.

Y/n approaches her cautiously. “Jeri Hogarth,” she calls out, making the woman turn. “You’re a hard woman to reach.”

“Y/f/n Stark.” Jeri doesn’t even turn to look at her. She keeps on staring straight ahead, smoking. “Did you ever consider, maybe I didn’t want to be reached?”

Y/n lets go of Bucky’s hand, but not before giving it a gentle press as a promise to come back soon. She walks up next to Jeri. “I did consider that possibility, but couldn’t bring myself to care about it, unfortunately.”

And then, finally Jeri turns to look at her, “What do you need for me? I mean it must be something big if you decided to show up here.”

Y/n shrugs. “It’s not big, I wouldn't say. I think it’s more that it’s… urgent?” That seems to intrigue Jeri, she cocks her brow in question. And Y/n answers, “I need to speak with Danny Rand.”

That seems to throw Jeri off. “I—I don’t know where he is. Besides, if you want his business—”

“It’s not about Rand Enterprises, Hogarth.” She clicks her tongue in disappointment. Nothing that fucking arbitrary would bring her here. “I want to talk to Danny’s friend. I want to talk to the Iron Fist.”

“I don’t—” Jeri looks like she’s at a loss for words which, yeah, a fairly new look on her. Y/n had very rarely seen Jeryn Hogarth lose her calm in class. They shared a lot of them, and while she wasn’t exactly kind to Y/n, she wasn’t unkind either.

“I know that you know, Jeri. I also know about Jessica Jones and… Kilgrave.” Y/n doesn’t want to be unkind to her either. “I am sorry about what happened…” Jeri just looks away. “I wouldn’t ask you if it was important, and I wouldn't be looking for Danny if it wasn’t urgent. But I need to talk to him.”

“And you think I can help?” Jeri challenges, finally finding her ground.

But Y/n isn’t here for a fight. “I wouldn’t be asking if I didn’t know you could.”

“Why should I?”

“I don’t have a very good reason for that. I don’t think I have anything of value to you that I could even barter with? But I’ll owe you one,” Y/n offers.

“You’ll owe me one?” She asks, unconvinced.

Y/n shrugs. “Yes.”

“And that’s supposed to be good enough?”

For the second time tonight, Y/n just wears a mischievous smile with furrowed brows.

Jeri seems to understand her without any words being spoken. “Yeah. That’s good enough.” She nods. “Okay, I can try to get a message to him, but there is no guarantee that he’ll respond.”

“He’ll respond,” Y/n answers easily.

Jeri eyes her suspiciously. “So, what’s the message?”

“Just tell him we need to talk,” Y/n answers.

“That’s all?”

“What else am I supposed to fucking say? The peacock rests peacefully in the moonlight?! This isn’t Mission Impossible. I’m not Tom Cruise. I just wanna talk to the dude,” Y/n rebukes.

“Fine,” Jeri tries to calm her down half-heartedly, turning back to the view ahead of her.

“Thanks, Hogarth,” Y/n says one last time before heading out.

Jeri takes out a fresh cigarette and lights it. “Just remember you owe me one.”

With that out of the way, Bucky and Y/n leave the reunion of the class of '92, hand in hand. It’s much later when they’re out for ice cream does Bucky ask the question she had been anticipating the entire night.

“Something was off tonight—before the whole sleeping with the teacher thing.”

She chuckles at his words. “Was there?” She asks.

“Yeah,” he doesn’t let her dodge it. “You wanna talk about it?” He does give her the option to opt out. He’s so considerate, how can she deny him anything?

They are sitting on the curb outside the 24 hour ice cream shop. They are bathed in the harsh light from the streetlight. Bucky, she thinks, somehow manages to still look pretty in that. He has a chocolate ice-cream cone in his hand that’s melting away at a matching speed to the vanilla cone in hers. They’d spent a little too long lost in each other’s mouths to focus on the ice-cream in a timely fashion. Both of them are now trying to furiously make up for that.

It takes her a moment to find the words. “I… It’s hard looking around at the room and seeing so many people who are… who are…”

“Old?” Bucky supplies again.

She shakes her head, laughing and trying to lick the ice cream off the cone—save it from falling. “No, Jamie. Not that.”

“Then?” He prompts, leaning to lick the leftover ice cream off her fingers.

Taking in a long breath, she musters up her courage and begins. “Tony’s the same age as Milkovitch. Or well, Tony would have been.” Bucky’s eyes turn softer in an instant. “It’s weird to see it—people who used to be young, who used to look like me, a crowd that I could have blended into seamlessly become old and gray. I mean, I lived it with Tony but I was there to see it day in and day out. He aged in front of my eyes, so it felt—it felt…”

“Natural?” Bucky offers.

And yeah. Yeah, it did. So, she nods. “Natural,” she agrees. “I remember when I noticed his first gray hair,” she laughs. “I freaked the fuck out but I didn’t want to tell him, cause that seemed fucking shallow, you know? I tried to hide it but man, I don’t think I was doing a good job ‘cause two days later the poor kid had dyed it black—that one single strand.” Bucky laughs too. “I think he figured out why it was freaking me out and that was his way of—I don’t know—calm me down, maybe?” She clicks her tongue at the thought. “The wrinkles were an easy adjustment. It began with smile lines, crinkles around his eyes every time he’d laugh at a joke, so it was…”

“Comforting?” Bucky suggests, once again giving her the words she can’t seem to find.

She rests her head on his shoulder then, “Yes. It was okay after that—especially after Pepper. Watching him age began feeling like a privilege. It felt like he was growing old instead of, you know, dying?”

Bucky nods. “Are you worried about that now? With me?” She punches him in the side. “FUCK! What was that for?”

She pulls back to face him, “I am not thinking about that shit yet!”

“Oh I’m sorry!” Bucky yells out annoyed and animated. “I was just drawing the LOGICAL conclusion to the conversation, but of course, that was stupid.”

“You’re such a little shit, James,” she rebukes him, shoving him and getting back on her feet.

“I’m a shit?! What did I do?!” He gets up as well. “We keep making grand promises about how we’ll love each other to the end of your days because you’ll obviously live longer.”

“BUCKY, DON’T SAY THAT!” She begins walking towards their motorbike parked in the parking lot.

He follows behind, “It’s not breaking news, Y/n! It’s inevitable.”

“Bucky!”

“But I have a plan!”

That makes her halt. She turns to face him, he almost runs into her. “What’s the plan?”

He smiles all cheeky and insolent. “Freeze me for a decade once in a while.” She can’t believe her ears.”Put me in the fridge every ten years or so for a decade and then pull me out. I’m also open to being in the freezer for a year with a two year gap in the middle as well.” She wants to punch him again. “I haven’t done the math on which will make me live longer but both will definitely extend my lifespan significantly.” She is going to punch him again. “I age a little slower anyway, this was I think we could extend this relationship into the next millennium at leas—” She punches him again. “FUCK! WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT ONE FOR NOW?”

Turning around, she begins walking off again. “You’re not ice-cream, Jamie. I’m not fucking freezing you!” She cans the ice-cream in her hand, having lost her appetite.

He follows her again. “I have another plan!”

“Shut up, Barnes!”

“What if we ask Banner to make me body like you guys did for Vision?! Put my consciousness in there?” Bucky asks as they reach their motorbike.

She pulls out the keys, handing them off to Bucky. “What made him capable of emotions was the Mind Stone, you got any spare of those lying around?”

Bucky hops on the bike and then thinks for a second, “Steve told me you guys put Zola in a big computer kinda thing.” She gets on behind him. “What if we did that? I know our sex life might suffer but—”

She punches him right under his ribs..

“STOP FUCKING PUNCHING ME! These ideas are golden.”

She punches him again.

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