#to how how high the bar needs to be set before women can be considered 'paedophiles' and not just 'awww; she's so fond of kids :)' | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

writer-in-theory · 1 year

Text

Swiping Right

Summary: When Steve helps set Robin up on a date from Tinder, he never expected to find a love of his own in her date's roommate. Prompt: “That’s how you do it, Hawkins, that’s how you do it!” // “You can stay at my place.” Pairing: Steve Harrington/Billy Hargrove, Robin Buckley/Heather Holloway Rating: Mature (for sexual humor) Word Count: 9.3k Content Warnings: Mild language, Mentions of Homophobia Read On AO3: HereA/N: This is my sixth fill for @harringroveson-bingo and my first fill for @billyhargrovebingo !! Huge thanks once again to @serenity-lattes and @lcvingprentjss for beta-ing and hyping me up the whole way.

When Steve got the SOS text from Robin, he was sure the worst had happened. Someone had broken into the apartment in the first year of it being theirs, an earthquake had somehow rocked the apartment but not the preschool building Steve worked at, Robin had somehow forgotten she was allergic to shellfish and indulged in some crab.

Instead of finding any of that, Steve walked into their small apartment in San Diego to find Robin face down on the living room floor, arm outstretched above her head and phone resting in it, the screen on to show some app. Both relief and frustration bubbled up in him at the sight of his perfectly okay, if overly-dramatic, roommate.

“Fallen and you can’t get up?” Steve recited dramatically, “You need LifeAlert!”

“You won’t be laughing when your best friend dies of literal embarrassment,” Robin groaned. “I can feel it coming, mortification, the likes of which my Sims have never even dreamed of.”

Steve gently nudged his friend’s side with his shoe, laughing when she let out a cracked groan and haphazardly tried to swat at his ankle. “You’re lucky I was already on my way home. What’s happening?”

He walked the few steps into the connected kitchen, separated only by a little breakfast bar they used solely for coffee. He grabbed a water bottle from the fridge before flopping to the ground by Robin’s head, plucking the phone right out of her hand before she could stop him.

“Hey! No that’s—”

“Tinder? Robs, you did not call an SOS for a Tinder emergency,” Steve cackled, “I know we said we were hopeless, but this is a little much.”

If someone would have told high school Steve that by twenty-three he would be living in San Diego with Robin Buckley, he would have never believed them. Yet here he was, clicking through the multiple failed attempts at conversations with the women Robin had matched with. Most of them were only a few replies long, barely scraping past the awkward pickup lines and ‘how are you?’s to really get anywhere.

“Robin,” Steve sighed, sending her a pointed look when she finally lifted her head off her crossed arms just enough to look at him. “This is tragic.”

“I know that, dingus! I wouldn’t have called an emergency if I didn’t!” Robin shouted, her body springing into action and scrambling to sit cross-legged beside Steve so she could look over his shoulder at her phone. “You have to help me.”

“Me?” Steve laughed, “I’ve struck out more time than I’ve succeeded lately.”

“Yeah, because you suck at second dates.”

“Hey!”

“It’s true and you know it,” Robin countered, and well, Steve couldn’t exactly deny it. He could get the first date with no problem and had plenty of experience doing so. But considering his only long-term relationship had been with Nancy Wheeler during his Senior year of high school, he didn’t have too much experience keeping someone around. “You’ve had more first dates here than I ever thought possible, you have to help me. It’s the Gay Code.”

“Gay Code,” Steve repeated, trying not to laugh but unable to stop a few noises from slipping out. “Sure, Robs, I’ll help. But you owe me, there’s a reason I deleted Tinder.”

And honestly, Steve thought Robin’s profile looked good. He recognized a few of the pictures he’d taken on one of their adventures when she’d unceremoniously tossed her phone at him and demanded a photo. He even made an appearance in one, necessitating a small aside in her bio that they were ‘platonic with a capital P.’ It was the conversations that fell hard, and Steve understood for the most part. Talking to random people on a dating app could get really awkward really quickly, even for someone who enjoyed flirting as much as he did. Then factor that into the fact that Robin was someone who needed to warm up to people—exemplified clearly in the way she had given him only one-word replies for the first two weeks of their ice cream shop job in high school—and it was clear why Robin struggled to find easy conversation with these women.

Steve also knew that, if one of them would just give her a chance, it’d be impossible not to fall for her immediately. It had happened to him directly: going from thinking of her only as his weird band geek coworker to one of the best friends he’d ever had in just a few short months.

“Oooh, Heather Holloway just matched with you,” Steve spoke up in a sing-song voice once the alert flashed up on the screen. “Oh, she’s cute. Careful, Robs, I might steal her.”

“Hey, my Tinder profile is not a way for you to meet pretty bi women, hands off if you’re gonna do that,” Robin countered, leaning forward as Steve began scrolling through Heather’s page. It was clear why Robin had swiped right in the first place—Heather was stunning and carried herself with the kind of confidence that couldn’t be learned. Her bio says she’s a model and she spends her free time volunteering at a youth gym for victims of violence.

“Okay, Operation: Get Robin a Date is a go.”

“God, you’ve been talking to Dustin too much,” Robin groaned, flopping onto her back dramatically and covering her eyes with her arm. “Just tell me the damage when you’re done.”

“You don’t want to know what I’m saying to her?” Steve asked, poking his roommate’s arm when she didn’t budge. “What if it comes up later when you get a date?”

“What makes you think I’ll get a date? She’s a fucking model, Steve.”

“Yeah? And you’re a badass grad student who’s already working on movie sets. Not to mention you have a really, and I mean really, great-looking best friend, and that’s always important in a good relationship,” Steve teased, knowing a lot of this came from some deeper place Robin likely wouldn’t want to examine closely at the moment, not sitting over model Heather Holloway’s gorgeous profile. “I’ll get you a date, leave it all to Stevie.”

“Do me a favor and hit me over the head next time you plan on saying anything like that.”

“Ouch, Robs,” Steve laughed, moving his free hand to clutch his chest while the other hand typed away another message to Heather. “Careful how you talk to the person holding your phone.”

The floor wasn’t comfortable in the least, but Steve stayed there the entire time he spoke to Heather as Robin. He was already sore from spending so much time wrangling the kids at work and the additional floor time would do him no favors, but it was all worth it for his best friend. Robin had been there through everything—shitty mall jobs, even shittier strip mall jobs, bisexual awakenings, and subsequent bi crises, Robin Buckley was there for it all. There was no way he would have made it out of Hawkins without her, so the least he could do was prove that she would find the right person now that they’d both escaped.

“Aha!” Steve screamed the second the message came in, shoving the phone close enough to Robin’s face to make her go cross-eyed. “Give me a crown and call me King Steve, because I just got you a damn coffee date!”

“You didn’t,” Robin exclaimed, yanking the phone out of his hand so she could read it better herself. “Holy shit, Harrington, you got me a date!”

“I know, I know, I’m just that good.”

“Wait, wait,” Robin began as another set of ‘pings’ came in, eyebrows drawing together as she read the new messages. “You got us a date.”

“Robs, what the hell are you talking about?”

“I mean, it’s Tinder. It makes sense, I wouldn’t want to meet up with an axe murderer either.” Robin laughed, typing something back to Heather Holloway from San Diego. “She wants it to be a double date with her roommate and mine. She says he’s cute, you’ll like him.”

“I’m not dating,” Steve said, already climbing to his feet. His bedroom wasn’t far, he could make it before Robin caught up if he sprinted. It had been years since he’d played sports at the level he did in high school, but some of that athleticism must have been preserved somewhere. After all, while he’d had plenty of first dates and flings in the months since they’d moved to San Diego, he hadn’t exactly had anything serious yet. Steve wasn’t sure he was ready, not when he was finally figuring out who he was outside of Hawkins, away from his parents’ influence.

“Please, Steve? C’mon, you can’t drop the ball now. It’s one date, and hey! What if he’s the one and you’re just walking away from him right now?”

Steve sent her a deadpan look, rolling his eyes at the thought that some random roommate of the girl she’d met on Tinder could be his perfect match. “If he was the one, we’ll find each other again later.”

“Steve Harrington, you are not blowing this for me. Do you know the last time I’ve gotten any kind of action? What I would do to get my fingers in so—”

“Lalala nope no no!” Steve screeched, hands flying up to cover his ears in case Robin decided to continue speaking over his shouts, cheeks reddening at the image of his best friend and roommate getting any kind of ‘action’. “Keep it rated PG-13 before I have a heart attack.”

“The point is, I need this,” Robin pressed. “Please? It’s just coffee. What’s the worst that could happen?”

She had a point. Even then Steve knew he wouldn’t refuse her, not when she was making that pleading expression. “Fine. One date, but that’s it, no matter how hot this guy is.”

Steve was going to kill Robin. It would be easy to do considering how much she trusted him. He had no idea how poison worked but he could figure it out before the next time he made their morning coffees, or he could push her down the stairs like some jealous dance student in a dramatic teen movie. Either way, she was a goner because cute did not even begin to cover how attractive this guy was.

Though she’d been a panicked mess the entire walk to the coffee shop, Robin had immediately walked up to Heather the second they got there, leaving Steve to practically gawk at the man standing next to them. He couldn’t be real, like he’d stepped off the cover of some magazine Steve would never have read two years ago because all the guys were too gorgeous to look at without blushing. His shorts were just short enough to make Steve take quick looks at the hem in hopes the guy wouldn’t notice, and the way he’d left the top several buttons of his shirt undone was absolutely sinful. His dark blond hair was styled with just the right amount of messiness, one curl laid perfectly over his forehead in a way that screamed Superman, blue eyes shining bright as he took notice of Steve.

“I guess you’re the roommate,” the man said once Steve dared get close enough. He reached out his hand to shake and Steve thought he might keel over from that singular touch alone, blushing like he was back in high school when his crush noticed him for the first time. “I’m Billy Hargrove, Heather’s friend.”

“Oh, yeah, I am. The roommate, that is. Also the best friend,” Steve managed to get out, tugging his hand through his hair the second the handshake was over. “Steve Harrington.”

Never before had Steve felt so nervous, but he told himself as they were ordering and finding a table nearby the two women that it was all for good reason. This was California, and Heather was a model, and it would only make sense that she would have attractive friends. This was just one date, set up simply to protect their two friends during a Tinder meetup. After coffee, Steve would never have to see this guy again so it really didn’t matter how big of a fool he made himself out to be.

“I gotta say, I’m glad you’re real, man,” Billy let out once they were sitting down with their coffees in hand. Billy had gotten something iced that looked about as sweet as Robin usually ordered while Steve sat with his hands warming around a cup of hot coffee.

“What, you thought this was a catfish situation?” Steve teased, knowing the thought had crossed his mind more than once in the week since Robin and Heather first matched on Tinder.

“Hell yeah I did,” Billy chuckled, fingers gripping a little tighter around his cup. “Robin seemed too good to be true. Fuck, if I didn’t like guys I’d have fought Heather for the date.”

Yeah, Robin was a goner the second they got back to the apartment. Steve nearly spluttered around his coffee at the words, knowing that it had been him behind the entire conversation that Heather had shown Billy. Steve forced out a laugh, hoping it didn’t sound too nervous as he answered, “Yep, yeah that’s Robin. Total catch.”

“Where are you and Total Catch from?”

“Why assume we’re not from around here?” Steve shot back instantly as if he had any sort of problem sharing about his life. He didn’t, not really, though the American Midwest wasn’t exactly the stunning or exciting answer Billy was likely looking for.

“Because,” Billy began, leaning forward and smirking like he had some great secret to share. Steve found himself leaning in too, practically drawn to the other man. “I would’ve noticed a pretty boy like you years ago if you’d been here all along.”

Maybe Steve was the dead one. Maybe he’d keeled over the second he and Billy Hargrove made eye contact, and this was all some dream his mind was drawing up at the end. It was cheesy as hell and there had to have been something else that actually gave him away, and yet the statement was enough to nearly send Steve sprawling on the floor.

“Hawkins,” Steve blurted out before his mind completely blue screened and rebooted. “I’m from Hawkins. It’s this tiny little town in the middle of nowhere, Indiana. The most notable thing about it is the old mall that was built in the 80s. Its theme never changed so it’s like this relic from old times or whatever they’re calling it nowadays.”

“Hawkins,” Billy spoke like he was testing the word out in his mouth. “Well, welcome to California, Harrington.”

“What about you? Are you from here?”

“Born ‘n raised.” Billy flashed a bright smile, all white teeth and the hint of a dimple on one cheek. “I could take you sightseeing like a true welcome, show you everywhere we try to keep hidden from the tourists.”

“We’ve been in San Diego for nine months now,” Steve pointed out, though the image of him spending the day walking around with Billy under the summer sun wouldn’t leave his mind. “I think I know the city.”

“That’s your first mistake.” Billy reached out to rest his elbow on the table, pointing one finger in Steve’s direction. “You don’t know San Diego ‘til you have an expert to show you the real scene.”

“Yeah? You calling yourself an expert now?”

“I know a few things,” Billy returned with just enough mystery that Steve wondered if he wasn’t bullshitting the whole thing.

“Well, then I might have to take you up on that tour.”

“We’ll call it our second date.”

Steve raised an eyebrow, finally beginning to relax into the conversation now that it was clear he could get along with Billy. “Who says you’re getting a second date, Malibu?”

“You do know Malibu isn’t anywhere near San Diego, right?”

He didn’t, but hotshot Billy Hargrove didn’t need to know that. “Maybe not, but I could mistake you for Malibu Barbie.”

“That so?” Billy leaned forward on his forearms then, tongue flashing through his lips for long enough that Steve had to avert his eyes lest his thoughts turn down a very different path.

Steve leaned forward to match him, close enough that with a little more effort he could find out how those lips tasted. “You bet, Malibu.”

Billy’s laugh was unlike anything else Steve had ever heard. It came out in a punch of sound, a little sharp around the edges like he wasn’t quite used to making the noise or like he tried to stop it in the first place. It was a deep rumble Steve was sure he’d feel in the man’s chest if he had the occasion to lay on it—not that he wanted to.

“You’re somethin’ else,” Billy laughed, and Steve couldn’t help but agree with the sentiment.

It was still early but Steve found himself wanting this to go somewhere, despite everything saying that this was too much, too soon. He wasn’t ready to date and yet he couldn’t imagine letting Billy slip away after the ease with which they talked over coffee. Steve hadn’t even noticed how much time had passed until Robin and Heather walked over to their table across the coffee shop, hand-in-hand. The sun was just beginning to dip beneath the horizon, painting the sky with brilliant golds and pinks that always made Steve wonder how the world could exist in such beauty every day.

It only took one look from Robin to tell how well the women’s date went. She was practically beaming, eyes alight in a way Steve was sure he hadn’t seen before. She’d dated a couple of times since he’d met her—even daring a relationship with a girl from back home even when Steve feared even saying the word out loud. She hardly took her eyes off of Heather, only doing so long enough to send Steve a bright smile, the reassurance that she was okay.

“Don’t wait up for me, asshole,” Heather told Billy, knocking his upper arm lightly with her knuckles. They seemed to have their own silent language, sharing expressions with one another that betrayed how long they’d known each other.

“Speaking of,” Robin began, focusing her attention again on her roommate. “Do you have somewhere to stay for tonight?”

He didn’t, not really, but he would be damned if he took away this chance Robin had. Steve could see the look in Heather’s eyes, could see the pleading way Robin looked at him that told him exactly what their plan was for an empty apartment.

“Yeah, don’t worry about me. I’ve got it figured out,” Steve told her, “Have fun tonight. But, hey, don’t have fun in the kitchen! I eat there.”

“Maybe I wanna eat there too, Stevie,” Robin shot back just as quickly, pulling an actual shriek out of Steve.

Billy cackled at the noise, tossing his head back and slapping his hand against his chest like that might force more breaths out of his lungs. “Oh, I like her,” he laughed, “see you later, Heather.”

Steve could feel his stomach swirling with butterflies, like he could feel Robin’s nervousness and joy for her. Maybe he could. Maybe that was the job of a best friend, to feel everything all at once so he’d know how to help her later. It certainly wasn’t because of the man sitting across from him who was now staring at his profile, Steve still turned in his chair to face where Robin had been standing.

“Where are you gonna stay tonight?” Billy asked once Steve finally turned right in his chair, setting his empty cup at the edge of the table as a visual sign he was finished with his drink.

“I don’t know yet,” Steve admitted now that Robin wasn’t around to overhear, “but Robin was excited for today, I didn’t want her night to end yet.”

“You could stay at my place,” Billy offered, immediately causing Steve’s heart to start racing. If getting coffee was too soon, then staying the night certainly was crossing some kind of line Steve didn’t know existed. He’d been with guys before, he’d even had weekend-long escapades that kept him out of the apartment for days until Robin finally called and demanded his ass back home. But Steve didn’t want Billy to be a one-night stand, some fling that he’d reminisce about fondly but without any real follow-through in the end. He wanted more coffee, he wanted to find out more about Billy’s younger sister Max and what it was like growing up ten minutes from the beach, and how he and Heather had met in high school after she moved from the Midwest.

“Not like that,” Billy quickly corrected, apparently able to see some sliver of Steve’s inward panic. “Heather won’t be there, we have a futon in the office if you really hate the idea of sharing a bed, and it wouldn’t be terrible if this date didn’t end.”

Steve scoffed out a laugh, shaking his head at the wording. “It wouldn’t be terrible, huh? That’s no way to win a second date.”

“I haven’t even started trying to win that second date. You’ll have no idea what hit you, Hawkins,” Billy returned, seemingly making the decision for Steve as he grabbed both cups to toss. “C’mon, I even have a bag of Doritos we can share if you’re hungry.”

Steve was helpless to resist, following Billy out of the coffee shop and down the street. The other man told him it wasn’t a far walk, which meant that they’d lived within walking distance of each other for months and had never met. Part of him found relief in that idea, knowing that Billy had never had the misfortune of meeting the nervous, awkward version of him that came straight from Hawkins, Indiana freshly out of the closet with no idea how to act once he could stop hiding.

Another, deeper, part of him ached at the idea that Billy would eventually see that version of him and would have no warning, no clue that it ever even existed. All he’d seen now was cool Steve, the guy who could walk into a coffee shop in muted green pants that Robin said screamed bisexual energy and immediately flirt with the hot guy he’d been set up to go on a date with. Would Billy be disappointed, once that other, far less sure Steve reared his head?

“This is us,” Billy spoke, thankfully stopping the spiral that Steve was nearly sent down.

“You live above a boxing gym?” Steve asked curiously, taking note of the sign that had turned on in the dimming sunlight. ‘Safe Harbor’ was written in blue writing above the first floor of the building, where Steve could make out some boxing equipment just inside though it had clearly already closed for the day.

“I own a boxing gym, really,” Billy answered, hand rubbing the back of his neck like he was sheepish about it. “That one. I own that boxing gym.”

“Oh, that’s cool,” Steve returned, dutifully following Billy around to the side alley where they climbed some stairs to the second-floor apartment. “What made you want to start a gym?”

“It’s a long story,” Billy began, fidgeting with his keys as he fought to find the right one, glancing up at Steve once before letting them both into the apartment. “But Heather came into extra money with her modeling thing, helped me get it started. It’s a place for victims of violence to go, somewhere they can train if they want, and learn some self-defense. Or just a place where they can be around people who give a shit, people who understand.”

The passion laced into every word made Steve think Billy understood those people, too, that maybe a ‘long story’ meant rather that it was a story too dark to tell someone he’d just met. Steve held onto that information, tucking it away to examine later when he could worry over the details on his own time.

The apartment was nice, much nicer than the one he and Robin rented with their spare earnings saved from countless hours in the one movie rental store left open in Indiana. It was decorated cohesively, like the two people living there actually cared about the aesthetics of the place rather than the odd posters and various color themes that decorated Steve’s own place.

“Want a drink?” Billy asked as he crossed to the kitchen, tossing his keys on the counter and immediately grabbing a beer for himself.

“Sure, why not?” Steve returned, taking the bottle Billy offered. They ended up on the couch, Steve sitting close enough to Billy that if he shifted just a little their thighs would press against each other. Already he could feel the heat radiating off of Billy’s leg, like the man himself was a furnace generating heat like that one guy who could catch himself on fire in Dustin’s old comics.

“Did you and Robin meet in high school?” Billy asked when Steve checked his phone for any sign that Robin might not be as okay as she’d been when they left the coffee shop.

“Huh? Oh, yeah, kind of,” Steve laughed, tugging through the front portion of his hair at the memories beginning to resurface. “We knew each other, but I was kind of a dick back then.”

“Stop giving yourself such a hard time, ‘m sure you weren’t that bad.”

“Nah, I was a fucking prick,” Steve answered, “but I figured it out eventually. We had the same summer job once I graduated. We worked in the mall I told you about, scooping ice cream in these godawful sailor uniforms. You have to be best friends after that.”

“Now that I wanna see,” Billy laughed predictably, causing Steve’s cheeks to flush red at the image of standing in front of Billy in those shorts.

“I bet you do,” Steve returned, “lucky for me I burned that thing the second the mall closed for remodeling. Robin and I decided we wanted to keep working together after that, seeing as we were the only queer people we knew of in town.”

“That why you moved out here?”

“Kind of. It was a big part of it,” Steve tried to explain, focusing his eyes on the lip of the bottle in his hand rather than on the intense look from Billy. “I guess it’d be a little too cliche to admit I wanted to get away from my parents, start over out here.”

“It’s super fuckin’ cliche, but cliches exist for a reason.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Steve shrugged, mind already beginning to think of new topics than that of his parents. They hadn’t exactly been proud of him there at the end, from admitting he wouldn’t be attending law school with intention of taking over his father’s business someday to screaming his coming out at a company holiday party when his mother was pissing him off. “What about you? Any cliches I should know about?”

“What, other than being the rugged bad boy with a shitty dad and a charming attitude?” Billy joked, flashing another toothy smile that made Steve feel like he might melt into the floorboards.

“Who said anything about charming?” Steve cackled at the little throw pillow that knocked into the side of his head, sending him careening over onto the rest of the couch. “Fine, fine! Might as well call you Flynn fucking Rider with all the charm you have.”

“That’s fucking right, pretty boy,” Billy laughed.

It was easy to talk to Billy, the pair of them staying up late into the night talking about anything and everything. When it finally came time to go to bed, Steve found he had no trouble shedding his pants and climbing into the empty space Billy left for him in the bedroom.

“I’m glad you made Heather and Robin set up a double date, even if it was to be a protection detail,” Steve admitted.

“I am too,” Billy returned. “I’m glad you’re not a catfish, Steve, and you really are just good.” Steve winced, thankful that his back was to Billy by that point. They weren’t technically catfishes, though the feeling that he’d messed up by agreeing to that point sunk deep in his chest.

“Would it really be so bad if we were?” Steve laughed lightly, as if maybe joking about it might make everything better.

“I can’t stand liars. It’s the worst thing someone could do. How could anyone expect a relationship to last when it’s started off with a lie?”

“Good thing we didn’t then,” Steve wheezed out, lips feeling numb even as he said the words. “I want this to last.”

“Does that mean I get that second date, Hawkins?”

“Hm,” Steve pretended to think about it, body feeling lighter as they strayed away from the previous topic. It would be okay because no one would ever have to know that he’d been Robin for a full week. It was fine, because Billy was everything Steve used to wish for in the middle of the night in a town he thought he’d wither away in, and that meant everything had to work out. “I think you’ve done more than winning a second date, Malibu. I want to keep you around.”

They didn’t say anything else, or dare cuddle, but Steve did find the bravery to press a sweet kiss to Billy’s cheek, falling asleep with the promise of something special growing between them.

“I’m not wearing that.”

“Yes, you are, Steve! Get in it!” Robin shouted, tossing the piece of cloth that could hardly be counted as a shirt at him. “It’s Pride, the one day a year you get to wear whatever the fuck you want.”

“Technically, I could wear whatever I want anytime.”

“Fine, then wear that shirt out to our next double date,” Robin pushed, smirking as Steve’s face blushed pink at the thought of going to dinner in that thing. “C’mon, it’s so cute and I really think th—Billy! Tell Steve to put that shirt on!”

Steve groaned as Billy and Heather walked through the door of their apartment, both decked out to the nines for the parade they all were going to. Heather looked absolutely gorgeous dressed in varying shades of pink and orange, with makeup and a splash of face paint topping off the look in a way that screamed she was a model for a living. Billy looked good too, not even bothering with a shirt and instead rocking just a pair of shorts and rainbow streaks painted artfully over his tattooed skin. Even Robin looked good, dressing more loudly than he’d ever seen her. Steve was certain the little shirt she wore was Heather’s, though considering how close the four of them had been in the past month there really was no telling who actually owned what clothes anymore.

“You should definitely wear the shirt, Stevie,” Billy answered, grabbing Steve’s shoulders and practically shoving him in the direction of his bedroom. “Get on it. You gotta go all out for your first Pride.”

Robin had tried to get him to go that last summer they spent in Hawkins. There was a parade in Indianapolis, and Robin nearly got him to go under the idea that no one from their little town would even be there to recognize him. Still, the morning of as he painted the blue, purple, and pink colors of the bi flag on his cheek he found himself calling Robin, telling her to go without him because he just couldn’t. That was then though, before California and before their own apartment away from all those things they’d left behind. It was before Billy, who pushed Steve in ways no one else had before and made him feel things he didn’t even know could be felt so intensely by one person.

So Steve sighed and put the shirt on. It was tight and practically sheer, ending just under his chest and shining in the bi-flag colors when he moved under the light. It was loud, gorgeous, and perfect. Of course, it was, considering Heather had dragged him out shopping for the thing a few weeks before and didn’t stop until they’d found the perfect outfit for him.

Billy clearly thought so too, blue eyes widening as Steve finally came out of his bedroom wearing his completed outfit. “Damn, pretty boy, you clean up nice.”

“You’re a bit biased, Bee,” Steve laughed, pressing a kiss to a spot on Billy’s cheek that wasn’t swathed in paint.

“Just callin’ it like it is,” Billy called after him, leaving Steve able to perfectly imagine the look he was making behind him. All bright eyes and devilish smirks, maybe even that damn tongue hanging out of his mouth that made Steve way too bothered whenever he dared do it.

“Are we ready then?” Heather asked, pulling her phone away from where she’d taken a picture of her and Robin kissing. She’d already told the group that there would be dozens of pictures taken that day, saying she’d find some people to take pictures of all four of them for their Instagram pages. At this point, Steve might as well hire her as his social media manager for all the work she contributed to his page.

“Let’s go!” Robin shrieked, grabbing Steve’s hand and taking off out of the apartment like they weren’t the ones who’d have to lock up behind the others.

She didn’t let go of his hand for the entire walk downtown, as if she knew he’d take off running given the chance. It wasn’t that he wanted to go—on the contrary, Steve could feel the same excited buzzing in his chest that he’d felt when Robin had found them tickets to his favorite band’s concert last summer. No, he’d been picturing this day for years and now that it was here, today had to be perfect.

Steve could still hear his dad if he focused hard enough like if he blinked he’d find himself back in his childhood living room listening while his dad laid into him about the disrespect and humiliation he’d brought to the family. He’d be sitting there with tears in his eyes, looking to his mother for the support she always gave him but instead only finding cool deference to his father, the same way she’d always done when it came to major decisions for their family.

“Hey,” Robin spoke up, squeezing his hand once like she knew where his mind had wandered off to. “It’s gonna be a good day.”

“I know,” Steve returned, smiling so she wouldn’t worry so much about him, “I know that. I just...”

“They’re not here. Even if anyone from home does see this, we’ll still be okay because we’re having the time of our lives out here.” Sometimes Steve wondered how he ever came to deserve Robin. She was the best friend he could ever imagine, staying right by his side despite all the shit he’d done in the years they’d grown up together. She easily could have made that summer job hell, making fun of how far he’d fallen from the king he’d once been. Instead, she gripped his hand tight and promised everything was okay, that maybe the world did not begin and end with towns like Hawkins, Indiana.

“My turn,” Billy said as he caught up to Steve’s other side, wrapping an arm around Steve’s waist like he was guiding him down the sidewalk. Steve squeezed Robin’s hand one more time before she fell back to walk with her girlfriend, letting her know that he was okay. “You ready, Stevie?”

“Hell yeah I am,” Steve answered having begun to hear the pounding music of the party going on downtown.

Whatever Steve was expecting, the San Diego Pride event was twelve times bigger than that. There had to be hundreds upon hundreds of people in the streets, all dressed in rainbows and bright colors. Someone had handed Steve a flag that Billy tied around his neck like a cape and made Steve feel like some kind of fruity superhero that would make Captain America shake in his boots.

Never before had Steve seen so many happy people all gathered in one space before. Some were dancing, others were marching along in the street in time with the parade. Some were old with little kids running around them, and some looked like they were fresh out of high school and already more sure of themselves than the Steve of that age could ever have hoped to be. It felt a little like a dream, being there surrounded by people who understood, who belonged to each other for this one magical day.

Steve eventually had the courage to whoop and shout with the rest of them, raising his arms and cheering when the parade came by them. Someone waved him over, a drag queen who had one of the kindest faces Steve had ever seen. He barely glanced back at Billy before he was walking over to them, allowing himself to be pulled up onto one of the floats. He laughed and danced along, even tilting his head into the mic to scream out a song about living forever. At this moment, it felt a little like he could.

“That’s how you do it, Hawkins, that’s how you do it!” Billy whooped from the sides, beaming up at Steve like he were the stars blanketing the skies.

“Is that one yours?” someone shouted about the music straight into his left ear. Steve could only grin and nod, captivated by the bright lights, the music, the crowd, Billy.

Billy was in his element too, getting plenty of pictures from strangers who apparently recognized him. He’d explained once that his gym had a lot of queer youth come in, suffering from bad homes or violence from strangers who didn’t understand. He used to run a booth at Pride and had become some recognizable figure in San Diego which made Steve fall in love with him that much more.

Because it was love, as it turned out. It was the kind of love that snuck up on Steve before jumping onto his back and latching on so tightly he had no hope of shaking it off. Billy wasn’t like anyone he’d ever met before. He was tough, full of sharp edges and sharp words, but he was also sweet, caring for people only in the way that hurt people could. Billy made Steve laugh and remembered the little things about him that other partners had never bothered to even ask about. He made Steve feel alive.

He could feel it now, that same electric energy that had first shown in the coffee shop now raging between them. The second the last stranger walked away from Billy, he turned to look at Steve. A brilliant smile washed over him, his entire expression softening as he looked at Steve. It was this alone that made Steve close the distance between them, wrapping his arms around Billy and pressing a kiss to his lips. Billy returned in kind, melting into the embrace like there was nothing else in the world but him and Steve, standing there in the middle of the street while Pride continued on around them.

“That’s a good one, Babe,” Heather cooed over Robin’s shoulder, peering at her phone just a handful of steps away from him and Billy.

“Send that to me?” Billy asked, not daring to remove his large hands from Steve’s waist.

“Of course,” Robin answered. “You both look so cute, you have to post that, Steve.”

“I will, I will,” Steve chuckled, ducking his head enough that some of his unruly hair fell into his eyes. He’d gotten better about accepting shows of affection in public, though the near-constant praise from the others sent him furiously blushing, hardly able to think through the waves pounding in his head. “Heather, do you and Billy want a picture?”

“Actually, I want a pic with you,” Heather answered instead, handing her phone off to Robin. “You are the one who got us all together.”

“I didn’t do anything, you two got together on your own,” Steve returned politely, pulling out of Billy’s grasp just so he could pose with Heather how she wanted.

“Cut it out, Steve, I already told her how you were the one talking to her for the first week because I was too chickenshit,” Robin laughed behind the camera.

“What?” Billy was standing just behind Robin, but he wasn’t laughing like she was. In fact, Steve is sure he’d never seen the man more closed off in the entire month they’d been together. He could practically watch Billy shutter his expression, closing himself off from everyone around them.

And then it hit like a rogue baseball to the chest. He could feel the moment that everything began to crumble around him, helpless to do anything but stare in horror at Billy’s hurt expression. ‘I already told her how you were the one talking to her for the first week.’

“Billy, wait!” Steve called out as Billy began to walk away from him. It wasn’t hard to catch up to the man, weaving through the crowd well enough that he could grab onto his arm to stop him in his tracks.

“Let go of me, Steve.”

Billy didn’t turn around, didn’t face him. His words were harsh, practically gritted out from behind clenched teeth.

“Billy, please. I know it sounds bad but it really wasn’t anyt—”

“I need to be alone right now, Steve. Go back to Robin and Heather, have fun at Pride.”

“What? No, you can’t be alone, not today. Let me just explain and then you’ll understand everything,” Steve pushed, not letting go of Billy’s arm until the man yanked it harshly out of his grip. It was then Billy whirled around to face him, eyes nearly on fire with the rage carried within them.

“What part of leave me the fuck alone can’t you get through your thick fuckin’ skull?” Billy shouted, drawing the attention of a handful of people in the crowd. “I don’t want to see your face right now.”

“Billy, c’mon. It’s not that bad,” Steve groaned, his heart hammering away in his chest as Billy didn’t even dare to look at him. He was staring over Steve’s shoulder, finding some point in the distance to distract himself with.

“You fucking lied to me!” Billy shouted, cheeks turning red from the effort. “You know how I feel about catfishing, and you fucking hid that from me. You did it to my best friend and you hid it for a month because you knew it would hurt me. Did I get everything?”

“I didn’t! We weren’t catfishing, Billy, please!” Steve continued, not daring to walk away now. Something in Billy’s eyes told him that if he walked away now, he might never see Billy again. “Robin was scared, that’s it. She just needed help getting started, we weren’t going to keep doing it. And I didn’t even think it would matter at first! You weren’t supposed to be important.”

“So what, you thought because we had one date you could go lying about something like that? I told you, I told you how serious it was to me and you fucking—” Billy let out a frustrated shout, practically growling as he tugged at his hair. “Are you really stupid enough to think I wouldn’t figure it out?”

“I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry, but you can’t stand here and act like I could’ve known then!” Steve shouted back, feeling his own anger bubbling up to the surface. There was no way for Billy to know how deeply those words cut into him, how badly they reworked old scars that Steve had tried to put past hime, marks from another life. ‘Stupid’ bounced around in Steve’s brain until he found his breath coming in shorter intervals, wondering how he’d fucked up so badly that Billy had figured it out so quickly. He felt bad, he did. He’d considered telling Billy about it for weeks but every time he tried, something in him stopped the words from coming out. He’d hoped the other man would never find out and they could go on like usual, but he should have seen this coming. He should have known.

Of fucking course Steve would ruin the best thing to ever happen to him.

“I didn’t know I’d love you,” he admitted, feeling the words warm up the iciness freezing his chest. “I love you, Billy.”

“I can’t fucking look at you,” Billy muttered, turning away and walking off into the crowd.

Steve vaguely noticed Heather running off in the same direction, and could distantly feel Robin’s hand on his shoulder. There were people giving him sympathetic looks, others coming up to them to ask Robin if he was okay, if he needed anything.

He couldn’t tell any of them that he needed Billy, that he needed to redo this entire day so none of it could go wrong again.

He couldn’t tell them that, even standing amongst a crowd of happy people full of more love than he’d thought existed in the whole world, he felt endlessly, irreparably alone.

It was a week before anything changed.

Steve found a rhythm in his new heartbreak: wake up, shower, go to work, and paint on a smile for the kids who were too innocent to be exposed to such negative emotions. He’d come home and have dinner with Robin and sometimes Heather, never daring to ask after her roommate despite how desperate he wanted to know how the other man was doing. He’d lay in bed for hours, not able to sleep alone after growing so used to having Billy’s strong arms around him.

Then, one night after even the pure exhaustion taking over his body wasn’t enough to force him to sleep, Steve found himself wandering the city. Even at 2 am, the city was still decently alive with people wandering the streets between bars and restaurants open late. Sometimes Steve missed the quiet stillness of nights in Hawkins, where he could walk in the woods with only the stars for company.

Before he even knew what was happening, Steve found himself standing outside of a familiar boxing gym. It should have been closed for the night, but there was a light on revealing a figure standing before one of the bags, light on his feet as he snapped out with punch after punch against the thing.

A little bell dinged as Steve opened the door, letting loud rock music blast against his ears from the stereo system in the building.

“Hey, we’re closed h—” the sentence cut off abruptly as Billy noticed who had walked into the room. He sighed, dropping out of his practiced stance and wiping at the sweat gathered on his brow. “What?”

He didn’t know why he was here. There were a million places Steve could have gone tonight and he’d ended up here, standing in front of the man he loved, loves. There had to be a reason for it, some kind of hope left that the universe was reminding him of.

“I fucked up,” Steve admitted quickly before he could change his mind and run out the door again. “I know I did, and I’m sorry. I should’ve told you sooner.”

“You should’ve,” Billy snapped, busying himself with wiping off with a towel and taking a messy drink of water, some of it slipping down his chin and wetting his shirt.

“I know,” Steve continued, wincing at the still-closed-off look Billy was giving him. The other man was hurting, he reminded himself. This was a man who had experienced the kind of horrors Steve could never imagine, had pulled himself up and out of literal Hell with nothing but his own hands and the distant promise of a better life. This was a man who had continuously been hurt throughout life and still chose to hand over his trust for Steve to watch over.

He couldn’t mess this up now.

“I know I lied to you, but Billy, please, you have to believe me. I didn’t mean to hurt you, it was something silly between Robin and me. If I thought for a second that it would hurt you, I would have told you,” Steve began to explain, allowing the smallest roots of hope to dig deep in his chest when the words made Billy pause his motions. “I love you, Billy. I know I lied and that was really really shitty, but it won’t happen again. It can’t happen again, because knowing I hurt you is destroying me.”

“I just, I’m learning, okay?” Steve could barely breathe, panting a little around his words as he fought to get them out. “I have no idea what I’m doing or even who the hell I am sometimes and I think everything is gonna be a little messy for a while until I can figure that out. But I will, I will figure it out and I want you there with me when I do. You make me so happy, Billy, happier than I could ever imagine being before. I love you, I love you.”

The words seemed to echo around the gym, smacking against every corner and wall until they knocked right back against Steve’s head. Billy still wasn’t talking, wasn’t even moving from where he froze by his water bottle stool. It felt like hours that they stood there, neither saying anything but neither daring to walk away either. Steve wanted to give him time to process, time to think about what was said and what Steve was promising, but eventually, he found himself pleading, “Say something? Anything?”

Billy sighed, which wasn’t perfect but it was progress. He dropped the small hand towel back down on the stool with his water bottle and walked over to where Steve was still standing by the front door. He still wasn’t saying anything, but the moment those blue eyes met Steve’s he gasped, overcome with the relief that Billy could finally look at him again.

“I can’t handle lying,” Billy told him, giving no clues as to where this was going. Steve was along for the ride anyway, blindly running wherever Billy was intending to take him. “Too many people have done it, I can’t.”

Steve could only nod, watching as Billy’s expression morphed into something he couldn’t read. It was too much, too intense to be anything Steve had seen before.

“When I say I need space, I mean it, Steve. There’s...I don’t want to hurt you. When I’m mad, I need to walk away and come here. It helps me clear my head when everything is too much.”

“Okay, yeah,” Steve agreed, feeling the hope beginning to plant itself deep and blossom as further boundaries were laid out. Boundaries wouldn’t be formed if Billy intended to tear the whole structure down, right? This meant they could stay, could work on everything together? “Space. I can do space.”

“Good,” Billy responded, finally a smile lighting up those features Steve found to be so captivating. “Because I really love you too, Stevie.”

It was like Billy had bottled up that feeling Steve felt at Pride and sprinkled it over them now. Every ounce of belonging, and comfort, of joy and love and pride filled him up now ten times stronger than it had then, threatening to swallow him up in the wave if he didn’t learn to float. He couldn’t help the bright smile that pulled on his lips as Billy asked him to stay.

The kiss was messy, teeth clacking together awkwardly through their smiles but Steve didn’t care because he had Billy back, stronger than ever now that they’d worked through the worst of it. There would be more fights in the future but Steve was confident he’d know how to handle them now, that both of them would do better than they had before now that they knew they had each other through it all.

“Come on, you ridiculous hoe!” Robin shouted, cackling at Steve’s shocked expression.

“You’re calling me a hoe now?” Steve laughed at his friend, setting down the next box by the front door. “That’s it, I’m not even gonna miss you.”

“Sure, you’ll be calling me from the car,” Robin returned, and sure, that was probably true. Stebe held out his arms, allowing Robin to cross the room and hug him tightly. “You better call from the car.”

“I will, you know I will,” Steve reassured his friend, blinking away the tears beginning to gather in his eyes. They’d only spent a year and a half in this apartment, but he would miss it dearly despite getting the occasion to visit whenever he wanted. He’d miss making coffee for Robin in the morning and yelling at her for hogging all the hot water in the shower. He’d miss her making dinner on rough work days and her banging her hand on the wall between their bedrooms when his personal dance parties became too loud in the middle of the night.

He’d miss living with his best friend, even though he couldn’t wait for what came next.

“You’re so dramatic,” Heather laughed from where she was packing up the few cups and utensils Steve had contributed. “You’ll see each other at dinner on Friday.”

“But that’s two whole days away!” Steve whined dramatically while Robin pretended to faint from the woe of it all.

“You’ll be so busy unpacking you won’t even notice,” Billy answered when he came through the front door with another one of Heather’s boxes. “Damn, Heather, how’d you get so much shit?”

“Would it be cocky to say the fame and money?”

“Absolutely.”

“Then the fame. Oh, and the money,” Heather grinned, the two of them hugging each other in the process. “I guess I’ll miss you too. Be good, have fun.”

“Miss you too,” Billy told her, ruffling his friend’s hair just to make her screech. “Don’t have too much fun here, we can’t cook dinner here if you’ve torn the place up.”

“Gross,” Robin and Steve both groaned, the smiles never leaving their faces despite it.

“Are you ready?” Steve asked Billy once all of Heather’s things were brought in. It would be weird to come over on Friday and see Heather living in the space he had once occupied, but it was time. He’s sure the two women would have moved in with each other far sooner had they not been waiting for Steve and Billy to be ready too. At least now they could have as much time spent together as they wanted without having to text either Steve or Billy about a sleepover.

“Ready as ever, Hawkins,” Billy answered, picking up one of Steve’s boxes to move it into his own apartment above the boxing gym—their apartment, Steve supposed.

“Then let’s get moving, Malibu. I wanna hit the beach after,” Steve spoke up, pressing a kiss to Billy’s cheek as he passed.

And Billy followed to the tune of Robin and Heather cheering them on all the way out the door of the apartment.

join my taglist here

TAGLIST: @alessiamargaux @minispice-1 @shadetea @emily19990 @alexxavicry @raven2008 @whoringrove @strangerleaves @blackpanzy @goodproofingwater @greetings-and-salutations @doralovesit @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @steddiemunsonharrington @magellan-88 @sideblogforcrimpy-plus @dreamdancerdotfile @lonesomewitchking @mrs-fanfiction-2001 @lancedrawsdrawings @cherry-sorry @dragonflylady77

#harringrove #billy hargrove #stranger things #steve harrington #robin buckley #heather holloway #buckleway #harringrove fanfiction #jay writes in theory

109 notes · View notes

apuckishwit · 1 year

Text

Steve is handling this SO well

Previewing chapter 26 of Rolled a 1 on the Check, Rolled a 20 on the Save, by APuckish_Wit

All things considered, Steve thinks he deals with the realization that, yeah, he’s apparently not as straight as he thought he was his entire life, and it looks like he is going to deal with that right now pretty well.

That is to say, he promptly nopes right out of any thoughts about Eddie, grabs the entire six pack he bought for the week out of the fridge, and starts slamming them back like he’s at one of the ragers he threw in high school again, and spends the next six hours scrolling through anything on TV that’ll distract him. He ends up slumped on his couch, dead drunk, groaning at a competitor on Chopped because they tried to make a risotto for the main course round. Rookie mistake.

He wakes up on the couch the next morning with a pounding head, a crick in his neck, and the cold, merciless truth that Mike Wheeler, of all people, made him realize he’s got undeniable, inescapable, completely-non-heterosexual-in-any-way-shape-or-form feelings for the man who has become one of his best friends over the past few months.

He texts Robin and asks her and Vickie if they want to come over for—he checks his watch—lunch and maybe go shopping for a new couch for their apartment.

Then he screams into the throw pillow that gave him the crick in his neck.

Then he drags his ass to the shower, and, feeling marginally more human, looks into his fridge, deciding on BLT’s for lunch.

Yup. Definitely handling it pretty well.

It’ll take the girls at least an hour to get over here, and the bacon won’t have to go in the oven (who knew baking your bacon was the key to getting it perfectly crispy every time? Not Steve.) until about twenty minutes before they arrive.

So.

With nothing better to do until he can talk to Robin and Vickie, he sets his laptop up on the breakfast bar and, very calmly (see, he is handling this so well) Googles I think I’m bisexual. Pauses. Adds a question mark with a satisfied nod. So well. The top hit is an article from a national health organization that seems to be aimed at people who are ‘questioning.’ Okay, that sounds promising. Seriously handling this so well—just calmly looking up resources so he can maybe have some questions to ask the girls when they get here, just to clarify some things. Not having any of those big panics like he’s seen in movies or on TV. He's positively nonchalant (word of the day a while back—after almost a month of radio silence, his mother had called him. He had just stared at the number for a moment, and then very deliberately declined the call and blocked both of them. He hadn’t even had to think about it, debate about it…he doesn’t need them in his life, doesn’t want them.) about the fact that guys do it for him as much as women.

Or maybe…not?

He reads through the article, stomach tightening at the way he keeps going, “Huh. Huh. That makes sense.” Then he clicks through some of the related links in the sidebar, and kind of falls down a rabbit hole. Wait—it doesn’t have to be, like, 50/50? There can be a, a what do you call it, a sliding scale? It’s normal if you have preferences towards one or the other? Plenty of people get well into adulthood before it even occurs to them to question themselves? He somehow ends up on some forums, reading personal testimonials and he feels like the breath has been punched out of him at some of the stories. It…it makes sense. He feels like he’s reading about himself and…oh, holy shit. Holy shit.

He's not handling this well. He’s not handling this well at all.

But it’s not, like, bad? This isn’t—this isn’t shame or fear or denial churning in his gut, making his throat feel tight and his eyes burn. It’s not a bad thing…how could he think it’s a bad thing when he loves Robin so much it feels like he’s been waiting his entire life to meet her? How could he think it’s a bad thing when Vickie threads her arm through his with a dazzling grin every time the three of them go out somewhere where there’s dancing? How could he think it’s a bad thing when Eddie’s voice is one of his favorite sounds in the world? No, it’s not bad. It just feels so…big. Big in the same way leaving Hawkins was big, big in the same way that Nancy leaving him was big, big in the same way that applying for college was big.

His whole self has just been rearranged, and nothing is ever going to be the same. And yet, it also feels like something is slotting into place, something he didn’t even know was out of joint until it wasn’t anymore. He feels like he knows himself better than he did last night.

Why hadn’t he wanted to examine this more closely? What was he so afraid of?

He’s not handling this well. But he’s not panicking either, he’s not backpedaling, he’s not running. He needs to figure out what this means for him, what the tangled, bubbling mass of feeling that erupted in his chest once he let himself truly think about Eddie means for him.

He forgets to start the bacon for the sandwiches. But it doesn’t matter, because as soon as he lets the girls in, he says, “I think I need to talk about what happened at that club we went to,” and Robin, because she is his best friend, his other half, his fucking (platonic) soulmate immediately sees how shaken he is—not scared, not sad or angry or anything else, but it’s almost too big to feel, this realization—and flings her arms around his neck and leads him to his couch.

“Then let’s talk about it,” she says, steady and rock solid and sure, and Vickie shrugs out of her jacket.

“I’ll handle food,” she says, striding into his kitchen like she owns it. She starts ransacking the cabinet where he keeps all the snacks for the boys and then goes for the one where he keeps his bottle of good wine, as well as the glasses he bought especially for their movie nights. “Booze or no booze?” she calls. And he’s only just barely crossed back into not hungover territory, but he thinks his liver is just going to have to forgive him for this one.

“Booze,” he says, and Robin ruffles his hair. In a matter of moments he’s surrounded by snack cakes, chips, beef jerky, expensive wine, and two of the best friends he’s ever had in his life.

“Spill,” Robin orders, while Vickie pats his knee encouragingly.

He does.

#my writing #Rolled a 1 on the Check Rolled a 20 on the save #steddie #fic preview #stranger things #I love getting to the 'comfort' part of the hurt/comfort

28 notes · View notes

manjiroscum · 3 years

Text

daisy

Character/s: All of Bonten (Haruchiyo Sanzu centric)

Warnings: f!reader, cussing/swearing, praising, choking, exhibitionism, murder, violence, blood, reverse harem, mention of drugs, gagging, rope play/bondage (not reader receiving), forced restraining (not reader receiving), mention of needles/injection, unprotected sex (always practice safe sex). Sanzu is his own warning. Service bottom!reader. Reader might be a bit feral. Minors don't interact.

Synopsis: Sanzu's solo mission went wrong and the reader is here to save the day—or rather, to get things done. Set in the same universe as "for two", although can be read alone.

✃WC: 3.1K

Tokyo's nightlife was at its peak again, from Shinjuku all the way to the high-class bars of Ginza. And as bustling the streets are, so are the nightly activities of each individual—and the worst criminal organization of Japan was no exception other than for their taste of crime rather than your usual drunk businessman after hours.

"What's taking him so long?"

Peeking through your second glass of Bloody Mary, you found Koko groaning at his laptop and close to throwing his earpiece to the ground. Even when you both were in one of Bonten's exclusive bars to relax after a long day, the silver-haired man was not having a swell time judging how his glass of Pinot Noir laid untouched on the counter next to him. The other executives were too drunk or uncaring to see what was causing him distress. They did not need to figure out why though—knowing all too well who Koko was dealing with.

Yet unlike the rest, you would rather have Koko be muttering numbers while sipping his wine than bemoaning his life like he had to watch a stack of cash burn right before his eyes.

"Something went wrong?" you inquired, pushing the straw away from your damp lips to glance at your stressed-out lover. And even as your question was left unanswered, you continued to watch Koko cursing under his breath as he kept his eyes on the screen. The beeping red dot signaled where Sanzu was heading along with the target of tonight's mission.

It was simple, really. For tonight's mission, all Sanzu had to do was lure in a rival gang leader's daughter into the hotel room prepared for them, and execute her. A way to threaten and teach the enemy for the trouble they caused. It is a dog eats dog world after all. And as Bonten's number two, it was a task that he should have already finished before the clock struck one in the morning. Heck, probably even minutes when they began the whole operation at eleven.

However, this wasn't the case much to Koko's frustration as the man acting as Sanzu's accomplice and guide for this important assignment—listening to every word and sound the listening device could pick up attached to the pink-haired man's suit.

"That bastard said this was a one-man job—insisted that he doesn't need backup, yet here he is, still trying to butter up this woman," Koko sighed, shaking his head. "He should've used a drug or anything so we could all call it a day!"

"You worry too much," Ran chastised, swirling the burgundy liquid on his glass as he smirked. Purple irises eyeing up your seemingly innocent white dress that was much too deceiving considering your line of work. You sent him a wink, which morphed his simple smirk into a full-blown smile. "The fucker would have probably done it if he weren't so terrified of receiving [Y/N]'s anger for resulting in underhanded tactics towards other women," he added with a teasing tone. "You know our darling, she gets jealousy easily."

"Why?" Tilting your head, you narrowed your eyes, challenging Ran. Chin propped in your palm, you spoke in a low voice, "Aren't you scared of infuriating me?"

At your question, the older Haitani merely chuckled earning a raised brow from you. Perhaps it was due to your tipsiness that you fell for one of his old traps—one you have avoided for so long, but he was grinning victoriously nonetheless.

"My darling, it's a win for me because you are even sexier when you're angry."

The son of a bitch.

Your retaliation never saw the light of day when the silver-haired man rose from his seat, brows pinched. Biting his lower lip in obvious distress.

"Fuck!" Koko hissed in irritation, yanking his earpiece, and was close to crushing it when you grabbed his arm. Your touch instantly calmed him down as you stared at him in worry, yet more so for Sanzu's well-being.

"What happened to Haru?"

Running a hand through his hair, Koko uttered the words that made your blood run cold and ready to burst out the door of the bar in a second.

"He has been compromised."

Entering Nama Tokyo hotel's glass doors, your red-bottomed heels clicked against the meticulously cleaned floors. Eyes glancing at the impeccable interior design of the hotel's reception area, you adjusted your fur coat and approached the staff behind the desk. The man in uniform smiled, ready to answer every concern you had until you flashed him the notorious ink forever to stay on your skin by opening your coat. Your cleavage would have been enough to distract any horndog, but Bonten's tattoo was a warning sign to run for the hills and not to stick their dicks into crazy.

The man behind the desk was no exception as he froze in front of you, unaware that you were completely unarmed saved for the pocket knife you safely hid under your dress. You beamed at him as sweetly as you can.

"May I have a key to room one hundred and three?"

You didn't have to ask twice. The staff almost threw you the spare key card, close to shitting his pants. Yet, you couldn't even keep up with your calm demeanor as you rode the elevator up to where Sanzu and the target are. Close to cursing out of worry, you almost forgot Koko and the rest of Bonten's higher-ups were listening to you through the listening device Kakucho attached to your coat.

"In case things go wrong, we'll be ready." he uttered softly, clipping the small device, glancing at your composed expression once in a while. "Don't worry too much, baby." Lifting your chin up, Kakucho gave you a small smile and kissed your forehead.

"Sanzu is... Sanzu. He'll be fine."

Sanzu was not fine.

The moment you stepped into the hotel room, key card in hand, you were greeted with the most overpowering perfume wafting in the air with the sound of a male's muffled voice which you instantly knew was Sanzu. Nose wrinkling, you strained your ear to hear any other sound coming from the room beyond you—trying to discern the situation from your spot. Other than a few clothes on the floor and a missing chair from the dining area, nothing else caught your attention. Pocket knife in hand, you gripped the handle until your knuckles hurt.

Based on Koko's report, Sanzu has been knocked out by the rival gang leader's daughter who was supposed to be easy prey. For Bonten's number two to be in a vulnerable situation, the mission has changed from easy to a difficult level akin to finding your way out of a dark space.

A fault of Sanzu's for underestimating her.

"What? You thought I was into the vanilla type of sex?"

Eyes wide as the moon shining over Tokyo bay, you were slightly caught off guard at the question until you heard Sanzu's low growl that was still suppressed. Your legs then carried you to where the bedroom was, greeted to the sight of the woman still in her dress, back faced to you. Sanzu was all tied up to a chair. Rope as red as the fake roses sitting in a vase bound him to the wooden furniture, chest out in display. Pink hair disheveled and mouth gagged with what seemed to be black lace panties.

Her black lace panties.

"Stop whining—"

What the fuck?

Unable to watch any further, you kicked the woman. The action caused her to fall face flat on the carpeted floor with a surprised gasp and groan. Keeping her pinned on the floor with your heels, you then pointed the blade of your knife at her throat. Your free hand gripping her by the hair, you hissed, "What do you think you're doing to my boyfriend, you bitch?"

Sanzu's azure eyes instantly brightened at your entrance, the arduous experience of being restrained for god knows how long has made him itching to hit and kill someone—or to kiss the hell out of you for coming to his rescue. Anything at this point will do, just to release his pent-up frustration from being knocked unconscious by his prey to waking up tied to a chair.

Whether she wanted to respond, you didn't give her the time of day before yanking her up to stand on her own legs. Finding a spare rope lying on the ground, you got to work. Her crying and begging to spare her life was ignored. You then proceed to tie her wrists and legs, preventing her from escaping.

Turning to Sanzu, you then took out the woman's panty, eyeing the spit-covered clothing. With a disgusted expression, you then grabbed the woman by the jaw and forced her to open her mouth. Still sobbing, you shoved the lingerie into her mouth. Her whimpers are now stifled by her own undergarment. You then place your pocket knife on top of the untouched bed, away from anyone's grasp.

"I was going to be lenient with you," you sighed at her tousled form, shaking your head. "Even told him to be gentle..."

"Light of my life," Sanzu breathily stated with a smirk once your gaze fell on him and away from the wriggling woman tied on the floor. "Apple of my eye, thank you for coming here. Could you please release me and we'll leave this room together, yeah?"

"Haru, how did you get into this pathetic situation?" you couldn't help but ask, taking your time by running your fingers on the ropes crisscrossing around his chest. You paid no heed to the pleading look in his eyes, reveling at how defenseless he is. "Care to tell me, baby?"

Sanzu didn't want to. Not with how humiliating it was.

"My one and only, perhaps another time?" Maybe it was the lighting or the atmosphere, but you swore his eyes were glistening as he stared at you earnestly. "Please untie me, [Y/N]."

Seeing how you didn't budge from your spot, Sanzu sighed.

"Baby."

"Mikey is listening, Haru," you whispered, straddling his lap with a wicked grin on your face. Hips moving, you grinded slightly against his clothed cock, purring. "He wants to know how his right-hand man ended up getting tied to a chair and outwitted by his target. Could you please tell me, at least?"

Lightly swallowing at the mention of Mikey and at your request, Sanzu hung his head low in shame. Sanzu exhaled then clicked his tongue out of exasperation at his predicament. "The bitch is crazy. I let my guard down when she said she wanted to shower first, but the moment I turned my back on her, she suddenly shoved a needle into my arm. I then started to get woozy." Sneering at the restrained woman on the floor, he huffed, "If I knew she—"

Finger hushing up the pink-haired man, you didn't have to hear more to figure out she tranquilized him. Eyes glaring at the woman, you scoffed, "I knew it. It's always those who appear innocent to be the most fucked up ones."

"Baby, please untie me now."

Hand cupping his cheek, you leaned down to kiss his forehead in sympathy for what he went through. You masked your annoyance with false pity as you turned to the woman now staring up at you two with immeasurable fear in her eyes.

"You wanted to fuck him so badly, huh? Why? Because he's from Bonten? Did you even know that?" you laughed lightly, hand lowering down to unzip Sanzu's pants and taking his half-hard cock out. "Wish you could ride this dick? What would your father say? Would he kill you if I say you tried to fuck with one of Bonten's men? Sadly for you, it belongs to me. All of them belong to me."

Tongue licking your teeth, you chuckled as you hoped the rest of Bonten listening could hear your statement. "Mine and only mine. For you to even try is a huge mistake..." In a few seconds, you were removing your coat, letting it cascade down to the floor as you faced Sanzu. His eyes were now trained at your chest, wanting to grab them and place his face in between. Your white dress clashing with your bold and sultry demeanor made his dick twitch in your palm, forgetting his embarrassment in favor of basking in your sexy aura.

"[Y/N]..."

Fingers lowering your own panties, you held the white lace in front of Sanzu, who immediately took it between his teeth. It made your heart skip. "You're so good, Haru. Such a good boy and since you are, let me ride your dick... Would you like that? Would you like me to ride your dick and make you cum? Let this bitch know who you belong to?"

This will definitely teach her a lesson.

Sanzu swore his eyes almost rolled to the back of his skull at your words, nodding vigorously. Your panty fell to the ground as he started begging once more. "Yes, yes, please. Baby, I want to feel you. Make me feel better," he almost whined as you rubbed his cock, precum pooling at the reddish tip of his pretty cock. "Only you can make me cum, baby. I want your pretty pussy."

"You want this pretty pussy?" you echoed, giggling softly. Fingering your slick cunt, you wished it were Sanzu's fingers circling your clit and entering your warmth right now. But having Sanzu tied up and withering below you, hips thrusting up in impatience, was more tantalizing. "Want to cum in me?"

"Yes, yes baby. Please!"

Wasting no time, you sank down into his cock with a sigh of content. Sanzu groaned, head thrown back in bliss the moment your warm walls squeezed him tight he almost choked. With how his fat cock split your cunt and reached your G-spot easily, your hand instantly wrapped themselves around his neck as you rode him. Lips moaning his name over and over as you tightened around him, holding onto him for dear life.

"Holy fuck!" Sanzu moaned, drool slipping past the corner of his lips. "Yes, just like that. Baby, so tight! So good! I love your cunt."

"Yeah? This cock is mine, right?" You were practically grinning smugly, knowing the other woman was on the floor, watching intently as you take your man's cock. Hoping it was her bouncing on top of him and not you. "God... Yes, I love your cock. Haru, tell her—tell the bitch it's only mine, Haru!"

"Yes! Only yours," Sanzu hissed, eyes almost white. Hips thrusting up, trying to match your pace. He was close to cumming, the idea of painting your walls white with his thick cum making him delirious. "Fucking hell—I'm close. I'm so close, baby. I'm about to cum."

At his words, you wrapped a hand around his neck and squeezed as you sped up. Thighs smacking against his, the sound of skin slapping with one another so obscene it felt like a scene out of a porn video. But it was real—with you bouncing on top of Sanzu as the bitch who tranquilized him on the ground watched as you take your man.

Sanzu let out a guttural moan, wishing—praying—this would last forever. He only gets to have you once a week, with all the other executives and his own superior having you on their own specific day. One day with you was never enough. You were like a drug and one he would never want to relapse from. He would always come back to you and the fact you knew this made you even closer to being divine in his eyes.

He still hasn't even wrapped his head over the fact that you love him too.

"Cum, Haru," you whined, squeezing him tight. "Cum for me, baby."

And he did. Thick and hot cum sputtering out his cock as he moaned shamelessly, arms wanting to wrap around you if it weren't for the ropes. Hold you in his arms and inhale your scent, burying his nose into your hair. To kiss you until he could taste you at the back of his throat. Mark the skin of your neck to the point it becomes permanent like your Bonten tattoo.

You always said you loved his scars, saying they were beautiful. But he begged to differ.

They would look better when they were covered with your slick as he ate you out.

"Baby, you did so well." Some strands of your hair stuck to your face, sweat glistening from your forehead to the space in between your breasts. Sanzu was in the same state. The ropes were sure to leave marks, but frankly, he didn't care anymore. If anything, he was more thankful this happened to him.

Climbing off of him, you bent down to grab your fallen undergarment. A moan slipped past your mouth at the feeling of Sanzu's thick cum running down your thigh as you slipped it back on. The view of your pussy stuffed with his cum was crystal clear to the woman on the ground who was now wriggling again, hoping to come out unscathed.

But of course, you weren't only here to save your boyfriend.

Hand grabbing your pocket knife from the bed, you sighed and diverted your attention back to the root of all this problem. Knuckles cracking, you then offered her a smile.

"I hope you enjoyed the show, sweetheart."

"Holy shit..." Sanzu cursed when the blood went splattering everywhere, staining the carpeted floor and your white dress he loved. The blade dripping with the woman's blood, forcing you to clean it. Eyes rolling at the lifeless body, you picked up your coat from the floor and cleared your throat. "The job is done, boys. Time to leave before the police come in."

It then dawned upon the pink-haired man that you didn't cum, even after you rode him and let him come undone.

"Baby, what about you?" he asked, watching as you fixed yourself and wiping off the blood which proved to be pointless. "Release me from these ropes and I swear I'll make you cum before those fucking useless policemen arrive."

He knew you had a naughty side, one he always welcomed. So, when you walked up to him with a smug grin, he knew he should've swiped the pocket knife while you weren't looking.

"Here." Pocket knife dangling in front of his face, you grinned before placing it between his teeth. You then kissed his nose and winked. "If you catch me before I leave the building, you can give me my reward, baby. See you."

As soon as you stepped out of the door, your pace quickly sped up—knowing full well it won't take Sanzu Haruchiyo a minute to set himself free after you spoke those words. The listening device long forgotten. The gadget was still attached to your fur coat drenched in blood and relayed everything that transpired to the others in the bar waiting for your arrival.

483 notes · View notes

akaashioppa · 3 years

Text

Forever Will Never Be The Same

pairings: oikawa x reader

summary: The reader finally confronts her husband Oikawa after cheating allegations in the male locker room. angst!!!

warnings: curse words, mentions of the reader having a son with Oikawa, confronting of cheating.

w/c: 1736

A/N: first time writing for Oikawa :)

Haikyuu Masterlist Masterlist

“Everyone get out now!”

Your voice echoed off the metal lockers of the locker room. Eyes widened as you made your way into the changing room, not because of the fact that a girl was entering the male’s locker room. It was the fact that Oikawa (Y/N) was coming to kick her husband’s ass. Just as every man passed you to flee, their musky scent filled your nose making you cringe.

After the final whistle of the game, people were scavenging to take pictures with Oikawa Toru except you. Each morning that you woke your husband up he would give you one of those cheeky grins that he was giving the fans right now, the stupid grin was fake. Laughter, jokes, and cries filled your ears, for what reason? The Great King made his grand entrance back to the court, winning both sets with the help of Iwaizumi. The Great King himself showered his fans with love and pictures while you stood from afar, anger flowing through your veins. Knowing the Poker Face King for ten years and having been married to him for two, it was easy to mimic the grin. As girls would pass by screaming about the pictures they took with him you would shoot them that famous grin.

You timed each moment perfectly, celebrating the win, pictures with fans, interviews with the sports commentators, more fan interaction and now he hits the locker room for a shower. Luckily for you, he was beginning to take his sweaty jersey off, beads of sweat from the previous game were still prominent.

“What are you doing here?” The look on his face was one of a kind, it was a mixture of panic and anger. Nothing to be afraid of, it’s not like he didn’t give you the same look when you caught him at the bar with another woman. Or the time you were driving down the road with his phone constantly going off, every other minute he’d get notifications, this would go on for hours.

The yelling of the men from the locker room made you come back to reality. Have they not seen a woman before or was it because you were standing there looking at their dick prints? A white tint cast over their knuckles from how hard they were holding their towels around their waist. ‘What a sight to see

“You can either tell me the truth or you can tell me the truth there’s no in-between.” You barked at Oikawa, men were still scattering out of the locker room. You barely gave them time to leave before you bombarded your husband with your question.

The panic on his face was quite entertaining, he moved in front of you so you couldn’t see his half-naked teammates running out of the locker room.“What are you talking about!?”

“When were you going to tell me that you went to a nightclub with Iwaizumi!? He told me everything so I’m giving you the chance to come clean about it!”

“I didn’t tell you because I knew you were going to be mad.”

“Did you sleep with her?” You got straight to the point, there was no need for you to sit here and procrastinate any longer. This has been on your mind ever since you got those three attachments from Iwaizumi.

“No” He scoffed, “Why would I sleep with her? I have too much respect for you to sleep with her.”

“Oh really, the way you were holding her waist makes me think differently. The way you kissed her neck makes me want to snap yours!” You held up a photo on your phone with him and another girl at the nightclub. His head was in her neck, you could see that he was kissing on it, his arms were wrapped around her waist but his hands were dangerously low.“Respect? Do you even know the definition of respect because if you did you wouldn’t have me out here looking stupid!”

He sat down on the bench of the locker room, his arms were tightly around his chest. Oikawa was already over this conversation, this wasn’t the first time you blew up in the face about this. Nor the second, he respected you in a weird way. He never laid hands on you, or even yelled at you but he couldn’t keep his hands off other women.

“How do I make you look stupid!? I give you everything you want!”

“Everything but love.” You yelled desperately, the thing about arguing with him about these situations was that he’d always claim that he knew what you wanted. He’d always try to bring light on the situation when he clearly fucked up. He was a great husband, you guys had been dating since high school. Since he got the fame and money things turned upside down, he became a legit monster.

“I show love to you every day, I make love to you every week!” His voice rose an octave, his hand was flying all over the place when he spoke.

You were appalled, sickened, offended, that he could say something like that. It hurts to know that he thinks this way, it almost makes you feel worthless. Does he really consider having sex as love? “That’s not loving Toru, that's lust.”

He sighed, his hands were on his knees, he got up to finish packing up his things. “Well, I’m over it. I don’t want you here anymore. Leave”

“How can you give up so easily on us.” You forced his hands away from his bag, he looked at you with a confused face. You poked him hard in his chest slowly provoking him, “I forgave you so many times after you treated me like trash. All the times you cheated and came home with women’s numbers falling out of your pockets. Many sleepless nights just to make sure that your knee would stop bothering you. I wake up every morning to make you your special breakfast so you can be game ready and yet I haven’t given up on you.”

“I’m just tired of arguing with you. All you do is complain about my lifestyle. If you can’t keep up then we shouldn’t be together. How can I keep consoling you after you get all jealous about me hanging out with fans or me taking pictures with my fans? It’s just toxic (Y/N).” He spat back, he didn’t seem angered. It was more of an annoyed look.

“Because you only hang out with female fans, it’s fine and all but when they’re posting sexual pictures with you, it’s a different story. I scroll down my feed to see you with more women than see pictures of us together. It’s like I don’t exist”

“Whatever (Y/N) I need to get ready for the after-party.”

“What about us? How are we going to fix this?”

“There is no us!” He screamed, his voice echoed off the lockers. He placed his hands on his hips trying to compose himself. “It’s only you and Torio. And me, Torio and volleyball! There is no us, not anymore and that’s it!”

You took a step back, each word was like a dagger in your heart. He would often bring your son into the matter. Ever since your son was born you’ve always felt like you and Oikawa had grown apart. It was like you were forcing yourself to stay for Torio’s sake. There would be days where things were good, on those days you and Oikawa wouldn’t argue. However, when days like this occur he’d make you hurt, you’d always end up questioning your ability of loving. Deep down you felt like you guys were drifting apart but you didn’t want to admit it. It was too painful, Oikawa would have been left if it weren’t for Torio. He wanted his fans and the sports media to look at him as a family man.

“Why is it so hard to ask someone to love me!?” Your breaking point had finally come, you held your hands over your mouth to stop the loud sobs. It was hard to know that your husband and high school sweetheart didn’t want you. You gave up everything to support him with his dreams, family, friends, work, school, and even your fucking sanity and yet she still treats you this way.

He stood there watching you beat yourself down, he didn’t do anything but place a hand on your shoulder. You shrugged it off, the last thing you wanted was for him to touch you. “Listen I loved you back in high school but now high school is over. You’re still basing this love off of that and I’m not here for it. All these insecurities you have are a bit annoying in my defense. Maybe this relationship would work if you grew the fuck up.”

“You can’t give up on us now. We need each other. Torio needs his dad. ” Lie, you needed him. Yes, Torio needed his dad but you needed your husband. It was crazy to think that you would go back to him but it was just your toxic ways. You never loved anyone but him, he was all that you had. Your life that you lived was based upon him.

“Look, we can talk about this later if you want, but right now I have thousands of fans waiting for me to show my face. You can either suck it up and go out there with me or you can hit the back doors and go home.”

“Toru…”

“What do you want?” He groaned, he turned back around with an annoyed face. He was fed up with you and even the situation. You knew he wanted you gone, he was waiting for the minute you’d leave so he could go and party.

Obviously an answer, he was too consumed with himself to even realize that. It was the reason why you came in here yelling at his teammates to leave, you wanted to ask him a question in private. The thought of getting your feelings hurt in front of everyone was not ideal.

“I just asked a simple question. Did you sleep with her?”

You looked up at him for the first him, your vision was blurry but you could see him well enough to see that stupid smirk.“What do you think?”

479 notes · View notes

cafeacademia · 3 years

Text

His Favourite Gal | Part 1

Mob!Bucky x Shy!Reader

Summary: You begin working as a waitress at Bucky Barnes’ favourite club in town. Little do you realise that working on mob territory owned by the infamous King of New York, Bucky Barnes, comes with its quirks and you’re slowly pulled into the mobster life.

Warnings: Fluff, some mentions of drunk people, mentions of crimes (though nothing happens, it’s just mentioned).

Word count: Approx 3700

Navigation

A/N: Hi loves!! This is a remaster of my own original fan fiction that I’ve decided to take from my old blog and (hopefully) improve. I’ve been slowly remastering fics that I am particularly attached to and I worked quite a lot to get this one overhauled and rewritten!! There’s actually very little of the original writing left, it was interesting to see how different my style is now compared to three years ago! This was also my first ever series I’d ever written on my old blog, so aside from the fact that I love the story, it’s special to me in that regard. Enjoy! 💕

If you’d like to join my taglist, you can do so using my taglist form HERE

It was raining when you finally finished your shift three hours later than when you were supposed to be off for the night. It was tiring working for the dingy old bar, it looked just as sad on the outside as it did on the inside, the old brick discoloured, old panelling slowly peeling off the sides of the building. It was a wreck and so was your boss too. He couldn’t have cared less if you worked yourself down to the bone, as long as he had staff doing a job, he didn’t care.

“I’m expecting you tomorrow, we’re opening early.” He had told you on your way out and it took everything in your willpower not to groan and roll your eyes and tell him so eloquently to fuck off. It was almost a relief when you heard the heavy metal door slam behind you as you stepped out of the back entrance. The air was just as bad. It was thick with smog and cigarette smoke and something pungent, an overflowing bin or perhaps an unfortunate street animal, you thought.

You were glad when it began to rain harder. At least it seemed to make most of the drunkards along the main strip try to find shelter instead of bothering you on your walk home.

Pulling your jacket hood up, you stepped down from the doorway and made your way out of the alleyway and onto the back street. It was never good to walk home alone, especially at night and especially in the part of New York you lived and worked in. It was on the edge of mobster territory and while Bucky Barnes, the King of New York owned it, it didn’t mean it was safe at all. It was quite the opposite, the district was prone to all levels of crime, from pickpocketing all the way up to armed robberies, arson and shootings.

But, you realised as you walked up the street, spotting a group of drunk men up ahead, drink men with rifles too, that never ended well, that perhaps mobster territory might not be a bad idea, especially when there were people working for Barnes along the entire street and they were known to keep the peace.

You heard the casino before you saw it, but as you rounded the corner you saw the lights, the late night rain distorting some of the huge party lights that lit up the sky above the building. Stark’s was not the most prestigious club in town, but it was the most respected and most feared. And funnily enough, for a place called Stark’s, the billionaire did not own his own named club. As far as you remembered, you’d seen it in the papers a few years ago that Barnes had won it off Stark in a game of poker. You’d never know if that was really true, but it definitely seemed plausible.

As you passed the casino, you glanced over towards the dark tinted windows, watching as people came and went, mostly men in suits. But you noticed a sign from across the road that was taped onto one of the windows, huge bold letters making you stop in your tracks for a moment.

Waiting staff needed. And you stared at it for a moment, contemplating. You… A bar waitress, surely it was not wise for you to sign up to work in mobster territory. That would definitely land you in more dangerous places than you were already in.

But the longer you stood there and thought about it, you began to wonder if it was actually a good idea. You could at least try, what did you have to lose? And before you could even come to a full decision, it was as it was made for you, because a group of rowdy men walked towards you and you immediately took the decision to cross the road, putting you right in front of the casino.

How bad could it be? The worst that could happen was that you just had to return back around the corner to your miserable little bar job. So, with a sigh, you grabbed the flyer and walked towards the entrance.

The bouncer was huge and intimidating. Of course, you had expected as much with the club having the notoriety that it did. It wasn’t long before you were allowed to enter, the bouncer telling you, “speak to Natasha at the bar”, and as you headed through into the casino, you assumed the absolutely stunning woman behind the bar right ahead of you was Natasha.

The club was bustling with people, though it was not as stuffy and loud on the inside as you had expected it to be. There was a clear divide between people dining and drinking at tables around the bar and the casino side of the club which appeared to be behind a velvet rope and deep burgundy red curtains at either side of the bar. It was far more high end than you had expected, seeing as the outside of Stark’s resembled a kind of fancy nightclub, but you supposed the King of New York did happen to own it.

“Are you here about the job?” The woman at the bar asked as you approached her. You wondered if it was your very casual clothing in such a formal setting that gave you away or the flyer in your hand. Either way, you suddenly felt very intimidated and very underprepared. Perhaps this had been a bad idea. You were a girl dressed in the dregs of your wardrobe while trying to get a job in the most respected club in the entire city. Not likely.

“I saw the advertisement outside, I hope that’s alright.” You said as you lifted the flyer in your hand and she held out her hand to take it from you. “Are you sure? We haven’t had many applicants because of certain activities.” She told you, but you knew what she meant, it was obvious. This part of town, even outside of mobster territory was swimming in crime. “I’ve got nothing to lose.” You replied. And it was true, you did have nothing to lose. No family, no responsibilities outside of your current job, which this would replace, no children, no pets, no side hustles. Nothing. And that probably made you a good candidate.

The woman smiled at you, her lips curving up into a smirk as she took a moment to look you over before she extended her hand across the counter. “Natasha.” She introduced herself, smiling as you shook her hand. “Nice to meet you.” You mirrored her smile and gave her your name before she let go of you. “Let me just get someone on the bar and we’ll talk.” She told you.

And moments later, you were following Natasha through the casino, passing by all of the business men, mafia family members and rich men and women who were chancing it at gambling games. Suffice to say, you felt even more out of place than you had done just moments beforehand.

“Where do you work right now?” Natasha asked as she let you pass her into an office near the back of the building. “I work in an old bar just around the corner called The Rabid Dog.” It was not a pleasant name, it always made you cringe whenever you had to tell people where you worked and you didn’t fail to notice the way that Natasha seemed amused by the name of the bar too.

“So you’ve done bar work? What about waitressing?” She asked as she gestured for you to sit down on one of the chairs in front of the desk. Natasha didn’t sit behind the desk, instead she just dropped down into the chair next to yours and rested one leg over the other as if she was having a casual conversation with a friend. “My bar serves food, so I do it on a regular basis and I also used to work in a restaurant a few years ago.” You explained, but before either of you could say anything else, the door swung open and you nearly fell out of your chair.

“Who’s this?” Bucky Barnes, the King of New York himself asked as he walked through the doorway. What had you walked into? You knew he owned the club, but you’d never expected to actually meet Barnes. “This is our new waitress.” Natasha said proudly as she stood. You knew better than to interrupt, but you gathered that someone must have noticed the look of confusion on your face because just as a second man entered the room, he said, “Does our new waitress know she’s the new waitress?” The second man asked. He was blonde, just as tall and muscular as Barnes, though he looked at you with less of a poker face and more of an amused smirk.

“Really? You just hired her like that?” Mr Barnes asked as he approached you. “I like her.” Natasha countered, both men giving her pointed looks, though Mr Barnes raised his brows and nodded before turning back towards you. “She likes you.” He repeated what Natasha had said. You couldn’t help but send Natasha a questioning glance. She had just met you minutes ago and she’d already analysed you enough to know that she liked you and you wondered if Natasha was much more than just a bar girl.

“Have you done waitressing before?” Barnes asked. “I just asked her that.” Natasha huffed. “Yes sir, waitressing and bar work.” You responded. “And do you have any family?” He asked next. “No sir, none at all.” You replied. “And you know this isn’t the type of job cut out for ordinary people, right? This club sees a lot of things.” Mr Barnes went on. “I do, sir.” You nodded.

“Buck, maybe we should consider-.” But Mr Barnes casually held up his hand to silence his friend. “You’re hired.” He announced, the entire room falling silent and all you could do was stare at Barnes for a moment, stunned that he had just hired you right there on the spot. “I am?” It came out a little more hushed than you had intended, Bucky nodding as he smirked at you. “Whatever your pay is at your old job, I’ll pay at least double, more if it’s not enough. Natasha will contact your old boss and get you ready for your first day.” And with that, Bucky Barnes and his friend left the room and Natasha looked over at you, watching as the astonishment slowly dissipated.

“I’ll let you know when you start work.” Natasha broke the silence and you glanced over at her. “Just like that?” You asked, still surprised. “Just like that.” She responded. “Don’t worry, Barnes wouldn’t keep me around if I wasn’t a good judge of character.” She winked at you and you wondered again if she was something more than just a bar girl.

The job, you realised after your first couple of days working at the club, was far more interesting and a lot more rewarding than your previous job at the old bar. The club was a scene for all kinds of happenings and while nothing nefarious really went on, especially under Bucky Barnes’ nose, you did overhear an awful lot of conversation.

You learned as well in those first few days, that while this was not where Mr Barnes resided, he used the club as a place to carry out some of his business meetings and discussions as well as a place to relax.

Barely a week into your new job, you were getting ready for your shift in the little back room. Lockers lined the walls with a mirror at the side of the door and comfortable benches in the middle of the room. Dressed in a simple, but pretty black dress, you tied the strings of your little demi apron at the back, though you paused, a little startled when the door was abruptly pushed open and Natasha stepped in.

“Barnes needs you.” Nat announced with urgency and you frowned at her. “He does?” You asked. “He needs someone to waitress him and the family tonight, he’s asking for you.” She informed you. “I thought-.” “Yes, I know normally we have security taking orders to the waitresses, but he’s personally asking for you to waitress them tonight.” Nat told you and you paused with a slight air of confusion about you. “Alright, I’ll waitress Mr Barnes then.” You nodded, quickly fumbling with the ties of your apron before you shoved your jacket a bit more firmly into the back of the locker and shut it properly, letting Natasha walk you through the club towards the private dining space they were occupying.

Nat rushed you into the room and closed the door behind you, leaving you to stand rather flustered in front of a cosy looking dining room with a round table in the middle. Bucky was sat at the furthest end of the room, his chair seeming to have a higher back than all of the others. At his left was Steve, who you’d been properly introduced to on your first day at work and on his right was Sam Wilson, who you understood was a very close friend of his.

“Sugar, you made it.” Bucky enthusiastically greeted you as you approached the table. You hoped that you didn’t appear too flustered and intimidated, but you were aware that there was only so much you could play off with smiles when you knew your eyes might give you away. “Good evening Mr Barnes, gentleman.” You nodded, finally taking a step into the room and approaching the table, receiving polite hellos and smiles from all of them. “Are you looking after us tonight?” Steve asked, sitting forward in his seat and casually leaning his elbows on the table. “I am, Mr Rogers.” You nodded, lifting your notepad and pen as if it were proof. “Allow me to introduce you to everyone.” Bucky waved you over to him and you took a few steps towards him as he went around the table naming everyone. It was quite easy to distinguish that the people sitting closest to Bucky were of more importance to him as he listed Clint and Scott, who seemed to be his security and Pietro who appeared at first glance to be a mentee as well as the rest of the group.

“C’mere sweetheart.” Bucky motioned you to come and stand next to him once they were all done ordering food and drink. You stood where he’d pointed to and he turned in his seat to face you. You felt your cheeks warm intensely as Bucky smiled up at you, his eyes so soft and sweet and you questioned for a moment how exactly this man was the King of New York. He was incredibly sweet looking and for a moment you found yourself melting on the spot. “Is that everything, Mr Barnes?” You asked. “Not quite, sugar. Add whatever you’re having to the list, it’s on me.” He grinned at you. “I – uh, sorry?” You asked, a little confused. “Are you sure, Mr Barnes?” You hesitantly met his eyes though you immediately broke eye contact. “Absolutely, please eat with us, doll.” Bucky’s voice went soft as he tilted his head back a little to see you better, his lips pouting ever so slightly. “As you wish, Mr Barnes. Thank you.” You smiled at him, speaking softly before jotting your meal on the notepad and rushing out of the room.

You nearly bumped into Natasha as you made your way towards the kitchen. “He wants me to eat with them.” You blurted out before even making your presence known. “He what?” Nat frowned. “Mr Barnes wants me to order my food and drink and eat with them.” You repeated, more calmly this time. “Really?” She looked at you wide eyed. “Does he not do that with other waitresses?” You questioned, ripping the order out of the notepad and handing it to the kitchen staff. “No, he’s never done that before, never requested it either.” Nat shook her head. “Are you sure?” You surely couldn’t be the only one he’s ever asked. “I’ve worked here every night for three years and not once has he ever requested that.” Nat said with a single raised brow. It was definitely unusual. “I’ll get someone to call for you when the food’s ready. Let me get their drinks together.” She told you, waving you away before she went to look at the order you’d brought in.

You waltzed into the private dining room with a large round tray balanced expertly on one hand. The glasses on top gently clinked together as you walked. Handing out their orders, you took your drink last. You noticed quickly that all the men around the table had shifted and there was now an empty seat next to Bucky. “Come and sit with me, doll.” He patted the empty chair. Steve hopped up to pull it out for you and you obliged, gently sitting yourself down in the chair and turning slightly to face him. You didn’t want to assume you could speak unless spoken to, so you politely kept quiet while Bucky noticeably studied your face. “Tell us about yourself, sweetheart.” He smiled, sitting back in his chair as he picked up his drink and took a sip.

“I’ve been around and lived in a few different places. My parents passed several years ago and it’s just been me ever since, so I moved back to Brooklyn.” You did appreciate the soft look on Bucky’s face as he listened to what you said, almost like he felt sorry for you. Before you could continue though, Bucky rested his hand over yours and squeezed gently. “I’m sorry about your parents, truly I am.” He spoke just above a whisper. “Thank you, Mr Barnes.” You gave him a tight lipped smile. “Call me Bucky. We’re with family, which means we’re all on a first name basis, alright?” Bucky gripped your hand gently. “Alright, Bucky.” You nodded, mirroring his smile.

You told him more about yourself and for a moment, Bucky seemed anything but a mobster. He asked you about the books you liked to read and talked to you about the subjects that seemed to make your eyes light up and your smile a little wider. As the evening drew on, you became comfortable enough to share a few timid little jokes, which elicited chuckles and laughs from even some of the most scary looking men around the table. One of them, Drax, who was terrifyingly huge and angry looking, clapped his hand over his chest and roared with laughter the first time you told a joke, which completely took you by surprise. What surprised you more was how easy it was to make Bucky laugh and how down to earth and sweet he was.

By the time everyone had eaten and spent some time drinking and chatting and enjoying themselves, you had warmed up to all of them, especially Steve, Sam and Bucky. All of them though, were soft and charming on the inside, showing you a side to them you were unsure anyone else in the club was ever going to see. They were intimidating on the outside, exuding a terrifying confidence, but on the inside they were all sweet and gentle and caring and it absolutely melted you.

And after you had said goodbye to all of them and made your way back to the locker room, Clint, one of Bucky’s closer family members, followed you in. “Barnes wants me and Scott to make sure you get home safe.” He told you. “He’s requesting we give you a lift back in his SUV.” Clint added, leaning back against the wall with his arms crossed over his middle. It definitely seemed unusual, especially to be personally driven home. As far as you were aware, not even Natasha, who seemed very close to the family was ever given a lift home. But then again, judging by her reaction to Bucky wanting you to dine with them earlier, you supposed this was all rather new for them, just as much as it was for you. “Alright.” You nodded as you opened your locker, pulling off your apron and putting it away before you took out your jacket and bag, quickly getting them both on before letting Clint escort your towards the back exit.

“Hey doll, hope you don’t mind the spontaneous ride home.” Bucky grinned, far too pleased with himself that he was having his men not only drive him, Steve and Sam home, but also you. Of course it meant he had a longer way home, but Bucky didn’t care. Seeing you all off to your houses was important to him and why seeing you off specifically was important, Bucky was starting to wonder why.

After sliding into the SUV and getting comfortable on the soft, plush seats, you were driven home with gentle, quiet chatter between Bucky and Sam, Steve joining in occasionally until you arrived at your apartment building.

“See you the day after tomorrow, sugar.” Bucky smiled, leaning towards the open door to speak to you as you got out of the car. “Thanks for the ride home.” You waved at all of the men in the car, Scott getting out to escort you up to the front door of the building, the car waiting until they had seen you safely into the building and the door shut behind you.

Sitting down in your bedroom, safely back in your apartment you laid down in the soft blankets, replaying the evening in your head, realising you were smiling to yourself when you remembered that Nat had said no one had ever been asked to dine with Bucky and his family before. It brought warmth to your cheeks as you settled in for the night, looking forward to your next shift at Stark’s.

Bucky Taglist (OPEN):

@losers-official @barneswidow @megantje123 @anchoeritic @struggling-bee

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes x you #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x y/n #mob!bucky #mob!bucky x reader #mobster!bucky #mobster!bucky x reader #bucky #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #james barnes #marvel #marvel fanfic series

553 notes · View notes

ushidoux · 3 years

Text

Kiss Me More - Doja Cat ft. Sza, Ushijima x Reader

Warnings: alcohol and tobacco use, creepy dudes in the club, car sex, nsfw

A/N: I cannot stop thinking about this song smh

---

It’s several minutes past midnight… your mind is hazy, it swims in the scent of the strawberry-flavored shisha that bubbles on the table before you, in the second mixed drink that’s doing a little more damage to your consciousness than it should. You are a well known lightweight, but maybe you willed yourself to be a little more drunk than you should be tonight.

Your hands drape lazily around your friend, and you laugh a little too hard, burying your face in her bare shoulder courtesy of her strapless dress, as you hold onto her for support. Her scent is comforting, not in the same way that Ushijima’s is, of course, but it’s what you need right now. Her hands play with your hair as you move in tune with the music; she wants to beat your situationship into the ground because she knows where your mind is is very precarious right now.

But for now you’re having fun.

Your dress is short and both form-fitting and flattering, and your heels are high. You look absolutely drop-dead gorgeous, and to the dismay of many, you’ve rebuffed every man who’s approached you for a dance thus far.

In this crowded club, with bodies pressed together, heat, sweat and lust abundant in the air, you’ve stayed close to your friends, as though you were trying to stay ‘faithful’... to what exactly?

He was just so… dense. You’d never been so needy before until you’d met him. The feeling of powerlessness to decide the course of things was overwhelming; you always seemed to be waiting for him. Waiting for him to text you, touch you, acknowledge your presence.

Maybe the game you were playing was immature, but it didn’t matter how many times your phone vibrated in your bra, you were not picking up. Not tonight.

Your friend pulled back from your embrace to check a text message and glanced at you for a moment, but you were already off in a spin to the bar just paces away for drinks.

“I’ll be right back~” you murmured, an inebriated grin on your face.

You stumbled shakily past a moving mass of bodies before reaching your destination. Leaning over the bar trying to catch the bartender’s attention, it wasn’t long before you felt a stranger’s arm snaking around your waist.

“What the-”

A quick turn had you facing a sleazy grinned man.

“What are you drinking, princess?”

He was still disgustingly close, enough that you could smell the alcohol on his tongue, but regardless, you smiled sickeningly sweetly, shaking your head before breaking free of his hold.

“I don’t drink actually,” you lied unconvincingly as if you weren’t wobbling on your feet, but you needed something to reply before you marched back over to your friends, sobering up ever so slightly.

Once you’d rejoined your friends, you glanced over your shoulder to see him still watching you, and a shudder ran down your spine.

But you weren’t going to let yet another man ruin your fun.

“Did you call him?” Your friend asked once you’d replaced your arms around her shoulders.

Your eyebrows furrowed angrily.

“No, why would I?”

She sighed, tired of being on her feet, and pulled you down with her to sit before taking a long draw of shisha. Your eyes focused on your other friend who’d come with her boyfriend and might as well have been dry-humping in public, she was that close to him physically.

Lack of ambiguity in a relationship was nice.

Your phone vibrated again, and you pulled it out of your bra in annoyance, setting it on the table face down without checking.

Alcohol was waning in your system and you were starting to feel sad again, but you had been spooked enough by the creepy dude at the bar that you wouldn’t venture for a drink for a while.

Except when you looked up, you realized that that same stranger had now made his way over to you, his smile now replaced with a twisted snarl from rejection.

“Don’t be a bitch, I can see you’re just slightly off from piss drunk,” he hissed, before yanking at your arm roughly, forcing you to let out a yelp.

“What the fuck is your problem?!” Your friend shrieked, her hand raised for a firm slap only for her hand to be blocked by the man who was getting more belligerent by the second.

The pain of the grip he had on your arm was barely dulled by alcohol as you tried to wrench it away from him, wondering how the fuck someone ends up so bold as to harass women in a full club. Your friend and her boyfriend disentangled themselves quickly enough to make their way over to help you, but were beaten to it by the sound of your not-exactly boyfriend’s deep voice.

“If you’d like to keep that arm, I suggest you fuck off immediately.”

Ushijima’s large hand wrapped around the arm that was restricting yours and he wasn’t looking at you, but at the man who was harassing you, his eagle-like eyes narrowed further. Your eyes widened - he hated places like these, when did he get here? How long had he been here? Who was he with?

There was a brief moment where the two stared each other down, but your creep wasn’t able to hide the wince forming on his features as Ushijima’s hand tightened, and his fingers unfurled around yours quickly.

He stormed off, tail between his legs, through the small crowd that had now gathered to observe the scene. Now that the spotlight seemed to be on you, Ushijima interrupted his own glare at the fleeing man to give you a once over to see if you were okay, fists unclenching.

“This is certainly one way to get my attention,” he mused, and your blood boiling immediately, you considered punching him in the face, but your friend hushed you, rubbing the tender part of your forearm.

But you were still angry.

“Don’t you have practice in a couple hours? Why would you waste your time here?”

He pursed his lips somewhat, but giving a clear glance to your friend who shook her head and backed off, he reached for your hand gently.

“Next time, pick up your phone. Let’s talk somewhere privately.”

---

“I wish you would just,” your tirade was interrupted by a single hiccup, “be clear about,” you paused as though winded, but continued, “... whatever the fuck this is!”

You stopped and your words hung in the small space between you. Seated in the passenger seat of his car, you felt like the space was closing in. You hadn’t had tons of dating experience, but you’d had enough to know that it was never a good sign when someone seemed to care less than you did. You’d been dumped before and once was enough.

The way Ushijima had you orbiting around him was embarrassing. Even when you were trying not to need him, you still ended up needing him. Sure, things would have turned out fine most likely even if he hadn’t been there, but still.

Ushijima was quiet, but his eyes remained on you. You hated how comfortable he could feel just staring, relaxed and unmoving like some kind of unnecessarily detailed sculpture.

“What do you think this is?” You finally asked. Your voice was smaller than it needed to be and again, you were embarrassed, but if he meant to break your heart, it would be better to do this when your friends were still around, waiting, and could support you.

Maybe then you could cry for real rather than grieve aimlessly while still locked in some kind of formless relationship.

“I think we’re dating, and I like you and you like me,” he finally replied. “Of course, I can’t speak for you. I hope that you feel the same way I do.”

Your heart stirred ever so slightly, and your fingers found a job adjusting the hem of your dress. Your eyes focused on the curve of your knees. He says the right things, but does he mean them?

“You’re distant. Like you can’t be bothered that I’m around.”

His hand reached out for you, his fingers resting on the nape of your neck.

“I’m here now, aren’t I?” He whispered, leaning in. His other hand closed around your chin, turning you so that you could look at him.

In the moonlight, the hazel of his eyes was especially bright, making your heart pound. His gaze focused on the lower lip that was starting to quiver.

“I want to kiss you, but you’re still upset,” he said suddenly, directly, as though it were the most simple yet frustrating dilemma. “I don’t want you to feel like I’m not paying attention to your concerns.”

“Toshi…,” you were at a loss for words, especially with his lips so close. Your hand rested on his chest.

“Can I show you how I feel?”

You nodded, and his lips found their way onto yours.

His tongue slipped into your mouth like it was home and you accepted him in similar fashion. Your hands made their way around his neck and he hastily pulled you over the car console onto his lap, deepening the kiss as he leaned you against the steering wheel of the car.

It wasn’t long before your body-conforming dress now covered nothing, your breasts exposed for kisses between and around them, for the gentle massage of his large hands. Your back arched as kisses littered your neck, collarbones, arms and the soft part of your belly.

You moaned as he lowered you onto his cock that always craved the pressure of your walls around him, leaning forward and biting the flesh of his shoulder as you endured the stretch. He lay the car seat down flat, engulfing your lips with his before rolling his cock into you slowly, sensually, taking every moment for you to mewl into his open mouth. His fingers dug into the flesh of your hips, keeping you steady as he slammed you down against him, leaving marks that he would kiss away later.

He’d kiss you so many ways for so many days, months, years to come.

#ushijima x reader #ushijima wakatoshi x reader #haikyuu smut #ushijima smut #series: songscapes #not sfw #mae.writing

420 notes · View notes

whisperlullaby · 3 years

Text

Friendly Neighbors

Pairing: Frank Adler x Reader

Words: 2025

Warnings: SMUT (18+ ONLY) Oral (f receiving), choking (kind of), face riding.

Summary: Your neighbors with Frank Adler and can’t seem to think straight around him. His niece Mary likes you and wants you and Frank to hang out so she can see you more.

A/N: This was inspired by a thot given to me by @fluffycutecevans I hope you like it! Thank you to @river-soul for being an amazing beta and friend and for helping me with the ending. All mistakes are my own and as always Minors DNI

You looked out your window and saw your neighbor, Frank, putting his niece Mary on the bus. He was always so gentle with her and you couldn’t help but let out a wistful sigh whenever you saw them interact. Even his reprimands came out more like guidance than punishment. Mary saw you watching and gave you a small wave which you returned. Noticing the exchange, Frank looked over at you and smiled, causing you to drop your hand and offer a tight smile embarrassed at the effect such a simple gesture had on you.

You'd never actually spoken with Frank, you always got tongue-tied around him. You have, however, run into Mary on more than one occasion when she was with Roberta. That girl was smart as a whip and took a liking to you almost immediately. She would invite you over for dinner weekly, which you always politely declined. You didn't know what you would do if you were alone with Frank for that long. The thought brought butterflies to your stomach and a deep want between your thighs.

Friday night rolled around and you took your glass of wine to your front stoop, waiting for Frank to drop Mary off at Roberta's so you could hear about her week. You saw Mary jump down the stairs and giggle as Frank started walking towards Roberta's house. Mary, however, had different plans and doubled back to sit with you on your stoop.

"Hey, can you come over for dinner tomorrow night? Franks making burgers. He makes good burgers and you said they were your favorite so I asked him to make them."

You stared at Mary wide-eyed. "Thank you for the offer sweetheart, but I don't want to impose. Besides I have a drawer full of takeout menus to choose from." You chuckled.

Mary looked past you. "Frank can you tell her that she wouldn't be imposing."

You stiffened and slowly turned around to catch Frank's sly smirk.

"Mary what did I say about bothering the pretty neighbor? Come on we have to get you to Roberta's."

"I have a great idea, Frank. Instead of going out tonight why don't you stay in with," Mary paused to look at you with a mischievous glint in her eyes. "The pretty neighbor."

Your whole body heated up at her statement. For a kid, she was as sly as a fox and too observant. Maybe it was the wine, maybe it was to prove to Mary that women should be strong and confident, whatever the reason you decided to double down on Mary's suggestion. Although if you were being honest with yourself you knew the real reason you wanted to spend time with Frank.

"I would love the company. I have more wine inside and beer in the fridge. I also may have ordered enough takeout for a small army." You bit your lip in anticipation of what Frank would say.

Frank looked over at Mary and then back to you, a smile slowly creeping onto his face.

"We have to get you to Roberta's first." Frank motioned for Mary to come with him. "I'll be back in 10 minutes if you wanna have one of those beers ready for me."

You smiled and nodded. As they headed toward Roberta's house, Mary turned around and gave you a not-so-subtle thumbs up that had you laughing.

You got up and went to refill your glass and grabbed a beer from the fridge. After you set them both on the kitchen table, you went back to the front door to prop it open for Frank. You ran to the bathroom to straighten out your hair and make-up when you heard heavy footfalls coming down the hallway.

“Hello? The door was open so I just let myself in,” Frank shouted through the house.

You reappeared in the kitchen and gave Frank a shy smile.

“Hey, your beer’s on the table. Food should be here in 15 minutes give or take, make yourself comfortable,” you rambled nervously.

Frank chuckled as he made his way over to the table and picked up his beer.

“You’ve made quite the impression on Mary,” Franks stated fondly. “She always talks about the pretty neighbor who teaches her about the stars.”

You let out a soft laugh. “Well, when I was her age I was fascinated by the constellations.”

“Yeah? Tell me more about yourself, sunshine.”

You bit your lip at the nickname Frank gave you. The next 15 minutes were spent talking about your childhood and where you grew up. You learned that Frank used to be a professor of philosophy and after his sister’s passing he gave that up to move here in order to make sure Mary had a normal childhood. As the conversation went on you and Frank seemed to be pulled closer together.

“I don’t know if you noticed. Mary is a bit of a genius,” Frank joked as he finished off his beer, brushing his arm against your thigh.

Flustered, you stood up to go to the fridge and get him another beer. “Yeah, I noticed. She’s a good kid, makes me think about things in a whole new way. I like her.”

Frank smiled as you handed him his beer. His fingers brushed against yours and your breath caught in your throat.

“Why is it this is the first time we’re enjoying each other’s company?” Frank wondered as he opened the beer.

“Oh come on Frank. Have you seen yourself? I’ve seen the Saturday morning walks of shame leave your house. They don’t exactly look like me,” you reasoned, surprised at your boldness.

He considered you for a moment. “You know Mary didn’t give you the nickname ‘pretty neighbor’ I did,” Frank admitted easily.

You looked up at Frank shocked and saw his eyes blown black with lust. There was a knock on the door and you cleared your throat, getting up to answer it. Frank was right behind you, handing the delivery person money for the food before quickly shutting the door.

“You didn’t have to do that. I was the one who ordered the food.”

He grabbed the bags from you and walked over to set them on the table.

“Wouldn’t be much of a gentleman if I didn’t pay for the food, now would I?” He offered.

“Can I ask you a question?” You rushed out, feeling the wine course through your veins giving you a sense of confidence.

He raised an eyebrow at you, signaling you to continue.

“Did you and Mary plan this?”

Frank smiled at you. “I may have suggested to Mary that I didn’t feel like going to the bar tonight, but that she was still spending the night with Roberta. She’s a smart kid, she came up with the plan all on her own. I just didn’t stop her.”

You considered his answer for a moment before you pulled him into a kiss that was filled with urgency and desperation. His hands gripped your waist and pushed you back into the wall, his grip tightening as the kiss grew deeper.

“Bedroom?” Frank asked huskily.

“Down the hall, second door on the left.”

Frank grabbed your hand and led you to the room, pausing every few steps to give you kisses and nips along your neck. By the time he laid you on the bed you were a whimpering mess, and you were sure you were soaked. He unzipped your dress and pulled down the straps with gentle ease. A perfect contrast to the urgency he was just kissing you with.

“No bra sweetheart?” Frank asked with a mischievous glint in his eye.

“It’s 100 degrees and humid Frank. I barely wanted to wear the dress,” you said breathlessly.

“Oh sunshine, I barely want you to wear this dress too.” Frank pulled the rest of your dress off your body.

You grabbed at his shirt and ripped it over his head. You threw it across the room and licked your lips at the sight of his tanned and toned chest. He bent down and placed kisses across your chest, taking a nipple in his mouth flicking the peak with his tongue while rolling the other between his fingers. You arched your back at the sensation and wrapped your legs around his waist. You rocked your hips against his growing erection, trying to provide some relief to the ache in your cunt.

“Relax, sunshine. I’ll make you feel real good,” Frank murmured into your chest as his fingers hooked around the hem of your underwear.

He pulled them down your legs and pressed kisses into your thighs.

“You’re absolutely soaked.” He spread your slick around before taking his fingers into his mouth with a satisfied hum. “Delicious.”

Frank climbed up the bed and pulled you onto his chest.

“I want you to ride my face honey.”

You looked up at him shocked. “I’ve never done that before what if,” you bit your lip. “What if you can’t breathe?”

Frank let out a short laugh. “If being suffocated by this pussy is what kills me then that’s how I go.”

He grabbed the back of your thighs and lifted you up towards his face.

“Go on sweetheart, get comfortable. I’m going to make you come on my tongue then I’m gonna fuck you until you can’t see straight.”

You settled your knees on each side of his face and slowly lowered yourself, still hovering.

“Is this okay?” You asked hesitantly.

Frank gripped your thighs and pulled you down until you felt his nose nudged your clit, causing you to mewl.

“Just like that, now ride my face baby.”

You tentatively rocked your hips against his face as his hands held your thighs in place. His tongue was delving into your wet folds and flicking your clit. You picked up the pace as his tongue moved faster. Soon you found yourself circling your hips as he latched onto your clit humming and sucking, bringing you higher until your orgasm buzzed through your body. Frank’s tongue relentlessly fucked into your core as you rode out your high, and with one final, hard suck on your clit that caused you to whine, he sat up and pushed you on the bed.

“Now, gorgeous, I need to be inside of you.” Frank made quick work of his pants and kicked them into the pile of clothes.

“Condoms are in the drawer,” you panted.

Frank reached into the drawer and pulled out a condom, rolling it down his hardened length. He climbed back over you and lined himself up, slowly pushing in as you arched your back reveling in the stretch.

“Fuck, Frank you feel amazing,” you moaned.

“Nowhere near as good as you sweetheart. You’re so tight, fucking made for me,” Frank grunted.

He started slowly sliding through your warmth until you wrapped your legs around his waist urging him to move faster. As he moved you grabbed his wrist to place his hand around your neck. He gently squeezed the sides of your throat and your eyes rolled back in pleasure.

“Oh, sunshine you look so good under me with my hand around your neck. I’m not gonna last much longer.”

You moaned as his thrusts became harder and more erratic. He removed his hand from your neck and pressed circles on your clit, making you clench around him as your orgasm washed through you. Frank followed closely behind you, stilling as he spilled into the condom. After a moment he pulled out causing you to whimper at the sensation. He tossed the condom in the trash before laying back on the bed and pulling you onto his chest.

“So, do you think you’ll come over for dinner tomorrow night?” Frank asked as he placed a kiss on the crown of your head.

“I think we can make that happen. I hear burgers are on the menu and they are my favorite,” you stated shyly.

“Well my favorite thing to eat is right here,” Frank said as he moved his fingers in between your thighs. “Might just make this my dessert tomorrow night after Mary goes to bed.”

#frank adler x reader #frank adler x you #gifted

404 notes · View notes

theewritingroomm · 3 years

Text

Happy’s Girl

Summary: Happy finally get the courage to ask out Y/N Telford, who happens to be the daughter of none other than Chibs Telford. But neither Happy or Y/N stopped to think about how Chibs would react. Pairing: Happy Lowman x Reader Word Count: 2,583 Warnings: Out of character Happy, kinda. swearing. A/N: Happy is probably written out of character but I just love the ‘he’s a bad guy to everyone but her’ trope. Also, for those that wanted a continuation of THIS Happy imagine, this is the whole one shot. Tell me what you think!! Text divider by: @firefly-graphics

Y/N was walking out of the garage office and making her way to her car when she heard someone calling her name. She figured it was one of the guys coming to ask her about something related to the garage or to ask her if she had seen Gemma. Which she had not. But what she was not expecting was to turn around and see Happy standing there, and not meeting her eye. It confused her, she was used to seeing the killer hold a stare with anyone and not back down.

“What can I do for you Happy?” she asked, “Need something from the office?”

“No, I actually just need to ask you something,” Happy paused, taking a second to look around for others. Y/N waited, hoping he would continue.

“I was just wondering if you’d let me take you out?”

As soon as the words left his mouth Y/N’s stomach erupted in butterflies. She had never expected one of the guys, let alone Happy to be asking her out. Especially considering her father had a seat at the same table and the repercussions for dating his daughter were always great. But Y/N could handle her father and his temper, and neither were going to stand in the way of going out with the guy she had been ogling at for as long as she could remember.

With a smile on her face Y/N replied, “Of course Hap, I’d love to.”

A wide smile broke across his face at her words. “Tonight? I can pick you up around 8.”

“That sounds great, I’ll see you then.” Y/N replied, the smile never leaving her face as she got into her car.

Y/N was putting her earrings in when her doorbell rang. She let out an excited gasp as she run out of her bedroom and towards her front door. Sliding to a stop in front of it she took a moment to gather to breath before opening the door.

“Hey,” she said breathless as the door opened to reveal Happy on the other side.

“Hi,” he replied, nearly as breathless as Y/N had been. “You look amazing.”

“Thank you,” Y/N mumbled as she felt the heat rise to her cheeks as she stepped out of her doorway.

Happy took a step back to let Y/N lock her front door. He took a moment to admire her figure in the jeans that she had chosen to wear, thinking to himself that she was the most beautiful women he’d ever seen, with the best ass he’d ever laid eyes on. But that was something he would tell her later.

“You ready to go?” Y/N’s voice broke Happy out of his thoughts.

Happy smiled and held his hand out for her to take. Y/N happily took it, letting him lead her to the motorcycle that sat next to her car. Happy handed her the helmet that was hung over the handlebars before mounting his bike. Y/N followed him shortly after, buckling the helmet as she slung her leg over the bike.

“Hold on tight,” Happy said over his shoulder, a mischievous twinkle in his eye as he revved the engine of the motorcycle.

Nearly thirty minutes later Happy was pulling his bike into the empty parking lot of what looked like a bowling alley outside of Charming. As the two dismounted from the bike Y/N sent Happy a questioning look, as if to ask why the parking lot was empty.

Happy seemed to catch on because he began to speak, “Buddy owns the place and owed me a favor. Figured we’d get a better chance to be more open if no one else was here.”

Y/N simply nodded, knowing better than to question him as to why he was owed a favor. But she also couldn’t fault his thinking, which is why she did not argue with him when he grabbed her hand and led them to the front door.

The door opened easily, indeed opening to an empty bowling alley. However, all of the lights were on and there was even a table set up at the start of one of the lanes piled with different types of food and drink. It shocked Y/N, as she had just been expecting a simple dinner or movie. She never expected Happy to put in so much effort to impress her.

“Happy, this is...” she began, but was quickly interrupted by Happy.

“It’s nothin’.”

Y/N shook her head with a smile on her face, knowing that this man wasn’t going to accept any compliment or praise from her. And she didn’t get the chance to argue with him as he led her to the table. Once there Happy took a moment to set up the scoreboard for their game while Y/N poured them both a small glass of beer from the pitcher on the table.

“And we’re all set.” Happy spoke as he turned around to face Y/N who was unable to wipe the smile off of her face.

Nearly four hours later the two of them were walking up Y/N’s driveway and to her front door. Y/N was still unable to rid her face of the smile that she had been sporting all night. From the surprise that was the bowling alley to the good food and great company she could not have asked for a better date.

“I had a great time tonight,” Y/N said as Happy walked her to her door after what she would consider a pretty good date.

She turned to face him when they reached the door, smiling up at him. He gave her a small smile in return, the emotion actually reaching his eyes.

“I did too,” Happy replied, taking a step closer to her so she was less than an arm’s length away from him. He reached up to brush a piece of hair out of her face, watching her e/c eyes flash to his lips.

Happy took that as all the invitation he needed to lean down and brush their lips together; not kissing her yet giving her the chance to pull away is she wished. But Y/N didn’t pull away, instead she placed on of her hands on the side of his face, casting one final glace into his deep brown eyes before pulling him the rest of the way to her, slotting their lips together.

It was a soft, deep kiss. One that knocked the breath out of Y/N’s lungs and had her craving for more. Despite the feeling deep within her she pulled away, smiling as she could still feel the kiss on her lips.

“Wow,” she breathed out against his lips, touching her forehead to his.

Happy chuckled, pulled back a little more to look her in the eye, “You wanna do this again sometime?”

Y/N nodded, “Pick me up next Friday at eight.”

As the weeks went on everyone could see the change in Happy’s demeanor, but no one was complaining. They all just wanted to know what girl had Happy so whipped. So, while sitting at the clubhouse bar a few weeks later Tig decided to ask.

“Hey Hap,” Tig started, waving the larger man over, “I’ve got to ask man, whose got you so pussy whipped?”

The handful of men around them laughed, including Jax and Chibs. Happy looked from Tig to Chibs, trying to come up with something to say that wasn’t going to anger the Scotsman. But he soon realized that that was going to be next to impossible as the woman he’s been seeing is none other than his daughter.

So Happy decided to bite the bullet and come clean. He’d rather Chibs knock him to the ground now rather than later, or in front of Y/N.

“Y/N,” he mumbled, knowing that they all heard him. That much was evident by the sound of a chair scraping against the floor.

“My fuckin’ daughter,” Chibs seethed as he got nose to nose with Happy. Happy nodded as the club house went silent. “Ya’ bangin’ my fuckin’ kid!”

“Dating,” Happy replied, not backing down now. “We’re dating.”

Chibs shook his head, anger pouring off the man in waves. “No, end it now. She’s not dating a Son, she deserves more than this life.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Happy began, “She deserves so much more than I can give her, and I’ve tried to tell her than. But she’s chosen to stay.”

Happy took a deep breath, shocked with himself for feeling so many things about this situation and his girl, he wasn’t used to it. “I think I may love her,” he continued.

The clubhouse went deadly silent. No one dared make a sound as the anger rose in Chibs, rather many of them took a step back just as Chibs brought his arm back and slugged Happy across the face, sending the larger man stumbling back a step or two. Gasps and exclamations broke out of the men surrounding Happy and Chibs, waiting to see what would happen next. Many of them expected Happy to come back and lay Chibs out, none of them would blame him if he did. But Happy didn’t do anything but wipe what little blood escaped the cut on his lip.

“I’m not gonna fight you brother,” Happy said, putting his hands up near his chest. “It would kill her to know we went at it. But I’m not gonna lie to you brother, I think I love her.”

Chibs was seething, he didn’t want to hear anything Happy had to say especially when it came to his daughter. His daughter who he loved with everything in his heart, who he so desperately wanted away from the club life, his little girl. He wanted to hit Happy again but knew that he was right it would tear Y/N up. So instead Chibs turned around in a huff and walked away from the group of men, storming in the direction of the office near the garage.

Y/N was sitting in the office with Gemma working on paperwork for the garage when the door opened. Both women looked up from their desks to look at the person who had opened the door, seeing Chibs standing in the doorway.

“Gem, can you give Y/N and I a minute?” he asked with very little emotion in his voice.

The older woman got up from her desk without a word, shooting Y/N a smirk and knowing look over her shoulder. Once the door closed behind her Chibs took a step forward towards his daughter.

“Y/N Telford, how could you not tell me?” her father growled out trying to keep himself from yelling.

Y/N was stunned for a moment. Her father had not talked to her like that since he caught her sneaking out of the house in high school. But she also had no idea what he was talking about, there was a lot that she didn’t let her father know simply because it would give him a heart attack if she did. And she let him know that.

“Dad, I don’t know what you’re talking about,”

“Don’t play fuckin’ dumb wit’ me. I know,” Chibs let out a long, angry breath. “I know your screwin’ Hap.”

Y/N looked at him stunned, “And? We’re dating, what’s the big deal?”

Chibs stood there with his mouth open, stunned himself. He wanted to yell at her but refrained, knowing there was probably already a crowd of bikers standing outside the door.

“He’s a goddamned Son, Y/N! He’s done things that most can’t come back from. He’s just no good for you.”

Y/N shook her head as she stood up from her desk chair. She wanted to meet her dads eye, show him that she’s still the spitfire that he had raised her to be.

“None of that fucking matters Dad. You’re a Son, you’ve done the same things and I never look at you any different.” She took a step closer, “So why the fuck does it matter that its Happy? He’s more than proven that he will be able to take care of me, to keep me safe. And he makes me so happy Dad, isn’t that all you’ve ever wanted for me to be happy?”

Y/N let out a shaky breath, trying to keep the tears from forming or falling. She didn’t want to argue with her dad especially not over something like this.

“Of course, I want you to be happy,” he nearly shouted, “But not with a Son, not with someone who could be putting you in danger.”

“This fuckin’ club is my family because of you and that’s why there’s always a chance that I’m in danger. So why shouldn’t I find a guy who can make me happy and protect me against the people that are after me because of you?” Y/N sighed as she looked at her father. He stood in the same spot with the same amount of rage behind his eyes. “Forget it, I’m not going to keep arguing with you.”

Y/N pushed her way past her father, catching his shoulder on her way to the door. She ripped the door open and watched a dozen men outside attempt to look busy as she stomped through the parking lot. No one attempted to stop her instead letting her storm to her car and peel out of the parking lot. Everyone cut their eyes to Chibs who still seemed to be fuming as the roar of a motorcycle’s engine roared through the air. Signaling Happy had decided to follow Y/N out of the parking lot.

Y/N slammed her front door as she walked into her house her anger at her father coming to the surface. She was livid with her father; he had no right to be that angry at her for dating someone. She wasn’t sixteen anymore, she was an adult who was completely capable of thinking for herself and making her own decisions. She didn’t need her father to tell her want to do anymore, so why he thought he was still able to was astonishing.

“Babe?” Happy’s voice sounded through the house, reaching Y/N in the kitchen and breaking her from her thoughts. However, she did not respond to him scared that if she did she would end up crying or screaming.

“Baby,” he tried one more time as he stepped foot into the kitchen. Once in the kitchen he saw Y/N leaning against her countertop with her eyes closed, practically shaking. As he moved into the kitchen Y/N didn’t react to her boyfriend, not until he was directly in front of her and pulling her into his arms.

“Why does he have to be such an ass?” Y/N mumbled into Happy’s chest as she wrapped her own arms around Happy’s torso.

“Because he wants what is best for his baby girl.” Happy rubbed his hand up and down Y/N’s back as she tightened her arms around him. “And I’m not that.”

Y/N looked up at Happy with wet eyes, the fear of him breaking up with her running through her mind, “But you are Hap, you’re the best guy I could ever ask for even if you are a little rough around the edges.”

Happy cracked a small smile before leaning down and pressing a kiss to her forehead. As he did he thought to himself that they were going to be okay, the two of them would get through this and Chibs would pull his head out of his ass eventually.

191 notes · View notes

roanniom · 3 years

Note

My request is probably so lame lol. But will you please tell us about Valentines Day with Flip? How does he spoil you and make it extra special for you? I’d love it if you could throw in some praise kink and size kink too please!

I love all your writing and you’re so talented! Thank you for entertaining my request! 💛

Hi my lovelies, thanks for your patience with this, seeing as it is coming over a week after Valentine’s Day. I wasn’t 100% I had another Valentine’s story in me after my Clyde and Charlie ones, but I chose to combine these prompts, got a little inspiration today and voila - a sweet and salty Flip one shot was born. Hope you’re cool with me combining and taking a bit from each of these requests! ❤️

Stupid Little Day in February

Flip Zimmerman x Reader

Word Count: 3,890

Warnings: NSFW, PIV sex / semi-public sex / unprotected sex, angst in the form of Flip wanting to love up his lady but having work get in the way

Flip had never intended to find himself in this position. He was a perfectionist, giving everything he had and then some in an effort to be successful in all he did – high school sports, his career at the department, his relationships. It’s why he always tries to make time for the boys, being there for Ron whenever he needs help or just someone to bitch to over a beer after work. It’s why he does his best to shower you with love and affection every chance he gets, bringing home little gifts and spending lazy Sundays doing nothing but you. And he thought that, all things considered, he’d been doing a damn good job.

That is until he overheard you on the phone with your friend the other day. You were twirling the coiled cord around your finger while you lounged on the couch laughing and chatting animatedly. He’d walked by and into the kitchen, careful not to disturb you, but as he cracked open a beer he heard something that made his stomach drop.

“Yeah I know I love Valentine’s Day, but Flip hates it so I can be cool with that.”

Flip had left his beer on the counter and moved silently to the doorway, ears straining to hear the rest of the conversation, mind racing to all the times he had, indeed, condemned the holiday of love as a sappy excuse for bad boyfriends to redeem themselves. A day to stimulate the gift industry. You’d laughed and teased him for his soap box routine and grumpy demeanor but you hadn’t argued.

“Besides, I’ve told you. The man gets me flowers like three days a week. He remembers things, like really remembers things. And he listens. I’d trade fancy dinner, red hearts, and chocolate for him any day.”

And though you’d defended him to your friend, your words had stuck with Flip. He wanted to give you the moon, he would if it wasn’t so damn high up. The least he could do was indulge you in something you enjoyed. You did that for him constantly – sitting through football games, hanging with the boys at the bar, listening to country music though you told him that deep inside it made you want to murder the jukebox. You sucked it up and took it with a smile so you could be with him. Flip kicked himself for not being able to do the same with some stupid holiday.

But at the exact moment Flip vowed to right this wrong, the universe seemed to have made a competing vow to ruin all of his efforts. It seemed that the revelation had come to late, being that it was already the night before Valentine’s Day. He was horrified the next morning to find, after a series of tense calls made at his desk hunched over and hushed so none of the other detectives could here, every restaurant in town was booked full. Which ended up being a moot point because the chief demanded he stay late, regardless of how much he gnashed his teeth.

“Everyone with a serious gal already asked for the night off, Zimmerman. It’s too late now. Guess your gal isn’t that serious,” was the only reply he received.

Head in his hands at his desk, Flip flinched when his back received a firm clap.

“Now I know we’re in the contemplating-marriage-territory here with this girl,” Ron said, pulling a seat up and fixing Flip with a concerned look. “What’s all this about not taking time off?”

Flip repeated the conversation that he’d overheard, sure to explain that he had no intention of disappointing you despite your good nature.

“You do realize that this could easily be remedied by a simple call to your woman, right?” Ron asked as Flip massaged the space between his eyes.

“I wanted to surprise her. Calling at this point feels like admitting defeat.”

“Do you hear yourself? ‘Admitting defeat?’ This isn’t some damn battle, it’s a holiday for a fat little baby with wings.”

“Hey, he does have a weapon,” Flip countered, though this time he cracked a smile. Ron laughed heartily.

“Yeah, one that’s been used to shoot you and your little lady enough to kill a small elephant. You guys are pumped so full of the love juice it’s a wonder you’re able to concentrate on anything else.” Ron turned then and flicked the large stack of files on Flip’s desk with a smirk. “Or maybe that’s your problem, Zimmerman.”

Flip shook his head.

“That might be the case for me, but – ”

“Are you seriously about to argue that she doesn’t feel the same way?”

“How the fuck would you know?” Flip asked gruffly. Ron, used to Flip’s gruffness much as you were, plowed right on through.

“Well besides all the dinner parties and barbeques and nights we all go dancing?” Ron raised an eyebrow with a laugh. “Patrice, man! You think those women get together and don’t talk about us?”

“Patrice has told you things?” Flip’s whole body tensed and Ron was quick to reassure.

“Calm the fuck down, I don’t want any of your dirty details. All I know is your woman is crazy in love with you. I don’t think some stupid little day in February is going to rock your world as much as you think it will.”

“Maybe you’re right,” Flip conceded, putting his head in his hands.

“I’m always right, you just never listen,” Ron said good-naturedly as he headed back to his desk. Over his shoulder he tossed one final piece of wisdom. “Whatever you do, just call her!”

~*~

And Flip did try to call you. Ten times as a matter of fact. It wasn’t until the sun set out the window and he hung up the phone for the tenth time that he remembered you’d had plans to hang out with your mother today. While that probably should have made him feel better – you had filled your day with plenty of things and probably wouldn’t even notice his failed attempt at romance – he couldn’t help but agonize the fact that it proved you had expected so little of him in the first place.

It’s with this on his mind that Flip buries himself in his paperwork. It’s 8pm and every member of the Colorado Springs police force that hadn’t taken the holiday off is out for a dinner break, Flip having sullenly waved them off so he could sulk in peace. He’s neck-deep in casefiles when he hears the sound of footsteps coming in from the bullpen. It was much too soft to be the tread of any of the beat cops he’d expected to see tonight and Judy, the night shift receptionist, wasn’t due in till later.

“Burning the midnight oil there, detective?”

Flip’s head snaps up at your voice to find you leaning against the doorframe to his office, arms folded casually across your chest, cheeky smile gracing your lips.

“Baby, what are you doing here?” Flip asks breathlessly as he makes to stand up. He freezes mid-motion, however, when you hold a hand up.

“Ah ah ah, no need to get up,” you tsk, closing the door with a gentle click and dropping your bag to the floor before making your way over to him. He hesitates but lowers himself back into his seat, eyes trained on your frame slinking toward him. You drop your palms to his desk and hoist yourself up onto it, prowling forward across the surface on your hands and knees toward him. “I heard my man needed some cheering up.”

“You did?” Flip asks, a smirk forming at the corners of his mouth as he leans back in his seat to enjoy what has already been and promises to be quite a show. Legs spread wide and hands gripping the arm rests he hasn’t really even heard what you said. Instead he is focusing every single brain cell on the cleavage that is visible through the red peacoat he’s never seen you wear, chest now slightly exposed as you slowly slide off the scarf you’d used to obscure it.

“Yeah. I heard you wanted to love on me but couldn’t because of work,” you say in a low voice, scooting forward so that one leg dangles off the edge of the desk on the outside of Flip’s left thigh while you place your other foot on the edge of his chair to the right of his other thigh. His gaze flits to the expanse of inner thigh that is now visible to him, your legs bare beneath the peacoat despite the freezing mid-February chill outside. His hand shoots up to smooth over your thigh, warming your skin, just as his brain catches up to your words.

“Now where exactly did you hear that, sugar?” He asks with a small frown. One of your hands reaches out to his shoulder, pulling him in his wheeled office chair closer to you and the desk. The same hand slides down his shoulder to smooth back and forth over the plane of his chest, just as your other hand threads into his hair.

“I can’t go around divulging my secrets,” you say breathily, leaning forward and arresting his lips in a sensuous kiss. You are the first to deepen it, tongue flitting over his lips to beg for entrance before plunging into the depths of his mouth. You kiss him greedily like you’re seeking the breath from his lungs to be the source of your own oxygen. Like the pressure of his lips on yours will warm the late winter cold from your bones. When you slide off the desk and into his lap, straddling his thick denim-clad thighs, Flip moans into the kiss, making you break away with a pleased hum. You relish in the look of his kiss-bruised lips, red and wet from the fervor of your contact. “Maybe cupid dropped by with a little message. Told me to come on down here and drive you wild.”

Flip’s breathing deeply at this point but the new intake of air seems to get the gears moving better in his mind. He frowns.

“And by cupid you mean Ron.”

“Bingo, baby,” you confirm with a smile before pressing a kiss to his furrowed brow. “Don’t be mad at him, though. He told me how you tried to make tonight special for me and that you’d probably bite off the heads of everyone working the night shift if I didn’t make my way down here quick.”

“I set something up. I did what I could, things just kept going wrong…”

“Shhh….” Your kisses migrate from his forehead to his cheek, pressing into his dimples till his frown smooths out and his eyes close again. Only then do you move down to mouth at the column of his throat, pressing your lips to his Adam’s apple. “So how many are there?”

“How many what?” he asks distractedly, eyes still closed.

“Dead bodies of people who had the misfortune to cross paths with my grumpy mountain man?” you ask, the smile clear in your voice though you speak the words into his skin. Flips hands tighten around your hips.

“I’m only grumpy because you deserve the fuckin’ moon and I’m stuck here behind a desk.”

“Well, if you haven’t noticed,” you say, angling in his lap so that your lower back leans against the edge of the desk behind you. “I am also behind the desk with you. So maybe it’s not all bad.”

It is at this point that you pop the few buttons at the front of our coat, allowing it to drop open and reveal the gauzy, see-through red negligee you are wearing beneath. It comes down only to the tops of your thighs, but most important of all, you are completely bare beyond the fabric. Your breasts are held in the negligee’s sheer lace cups, nipples hard, and not a scrap of panties obstructs his view of your cunt, evidently glistening from this angle, even through the garment.

“Sugar.” He intones it soft, deep. It’s a statement. A warning as his eyes slide back up your body to lock on your own hungry stare. “You’re just looking for trouble here.”

With a devious smile you settle forward again, rolling your pelvis this time to rub your heat conspicuously over the growing bulge in his jeans.

“You can punish me later, Flip,” you whisper softly in his ear as you reach down to unbuckle his belt. “When you get home. But for now let me reward you.”

“What’s there to reward me for, darlin’?” Flip asks, helping you rid him of his belt and unfasten the buttons of his Levi’s. He’s not even sure why he’s pressing the matter. You’re here, rubbing your gorgeous body all of his in the middle of his workplace like some fucking fever dream and here he is, practically reminding you of his unworthiness. In some kind of verbal act of self-flagellation.

“Flip Zimmerman,” you chide, even as you pull his half-hard dick out of the opening you’ve made in his pants, careful to keep the rest of his clothing neat. “There’s always something to reward you for.” You begin applying a few measured strokes to his length, squeezing at the base and rolling your wrist to smooth the motion up to his tip.

“Fuck,” Flip grunts quietly, his head dropping to hit the back of the chair.

“This morning you sprinkled cinnamon on my oatmeal. Last night you handed me that lotion that smells like jasmine when I got out of the shower, the one I love so much.” You kiss his jaw as you say this and let your eye lashes flutter against his cheek in the process.

“Those are little things. Nothing,” Flip argues, still mentally kicking himself for the knee-jerk way he keeps dragging this on. Living in this guilt despite your loving ministrations which suggest you feel exactly the opposite.

“They aren’t little to me,” you say, your tone abruptly serious and your fingers digging into his jaw to keep him looking at you. “You read to me on Sunday afternoons. You take me camping whenever you get time off.”

Your tone returns to its original gentleness and you duck your head so that you can nip at Flip’s earlobe. Your hand continues its steady pace on his cock, thumb swirling around in the precum collecting on his tip.

“You fuck me. Good and hard and slow and fast and every which way I need it.” He’s painfully hard now, both from your hand and from your focused attention on him. From the words falling from your lips. He gazes back at you with blackened eyes and massages the skin of your hips and ass with his large, warm hands. You lick the shell of his ear then, marveling in the way it always turns red and hot, regardless of his confidence, regardless of his dominance. “You meet my needs, Flip, every day. And today is just any old day. So just like you do for me, I’m going to meet your needs, and you’re going to enjoy it.”

You say this as you lift yourself up with the muscles of your thighs and line him up with your entrance, sinking down on his cock just as you get to the last few words. Flip immediately mutters a string of hushed curses, fingers digging into your hips through your gauzy negligee so hard you’re already looking forward to the bruises. He breathes through his nose, his labored exhales fanning across your face as you work to adjust to him, eventually swiveling your hips a bit.

“You’re so fucking tight,” he mutters, dropping his forehead to yours. Your face is screwed up in pleasure-pain and you huff out a laugh.

“No, you’re just fucking huge.” Your statement gets a groan from him and you smirk as you begin to lift yourself up and down on Flip’s cock with his help. Your walls pulse, stroking his cock as your tongue moves on to stroking his ego. “You’re so big, Flip. Too big. I can barely take you.”

“You’re taking me just fine, sugar,” he shakes his head, eyes rolling back in their sockets as you grind into him on a down motion. “So wet. This little pussy takes me so well.”

“You fill me up, Flip. Stuff me – ohhh fuck – stuff me so full I think I might burst.” You reach one hand back to grip the edge of the desk for leverage while your other hand digs into the skin of his shoulder.

“Oh for me you do burst, baby. You burst and gush all over me like the good girl you are,” Flip whispers into your clavicle when you throw your head back, an automatic response to him beginning to aid you by thrust up into your quivering cunt himself. This sounds more like your Flip. Confident and powerful. Pressing all the right buttons to drive you wild. “My good girl.”

“I love it when you call me that,” you admit softly.

“A good girl?”

“Your good girl,” you correct.

“My good girl,” Flip repeats and your pussy clenches around him hard in response. So naturally Flip says it again. “You’re my good girl.”

Your breathing has increased rapidly, spurred on in no small part by the way one of his hands has snaked up to pluck a breast from its lacy confines. His head dips to suck your nipple into his mouth and you hum.

“Who’s good girl are you?” Flip asks into your breasts.

“I’m your good girl.”

You begin ridding him harder, faster. The slick seeping onto his cock around your swollen lips indicates that you’re farther along than he’d expect, a suspicion that you soon confirm with a whimper.

“Fuck, baby, I’m close.”

“Really?” he asks, incredulous. He’s used to marathon lovemaking. Even a quick fuck in a bathroom stall usually becomes indulgent for you two, trading speed for roughness and lewdness.

“I kind of…got ready before I – ah! – came here.” You bite your lip as you say it and Flip resists the urge to pull your lip out and claim it for himself.

“And by ‘got ready’ you mean…” he prompts, a wicked smile spreading on his face.

“I touched myself,” you admit, no shame in your words. “I touched myself while thinking about my handsome man and his handsome cock and the way it was going to fill me when I came over here.”

Flip grabs one of your hands then, zeroing in on your fingers. All the while he keeps thrusting up into you, feet flat on the floor and muscles rippling throughout his body with the effort.

“Did these fingers rub your little clit?”

“Yes,” you say, still confident. Flip licks a stripe up your index and middle finger, almost as if doing so would allow him to taste remnants of your essence.

“Did you stuff them inside your pussy. Press that little spot inside you like so much?” As he says it he thrusts up and forward, making his cock drag against your front wall in a way that’s got you buckling in on yourself.

“Oh god oh yes. Yes!” You’re trying to remain as quiet as possible but it’s getting harder by the second. The station was empty save for Flip when you’d arrive but soon other people would return. A fact that made your pussy drool all the more on Flip’s throbbing cock.

Flip watches you fall apart in his arms and speeds up the process by sucking on your fingertips, splitting them apart with his tongue and laving each equally. You swallow a moan as he brings your own wetted fingers down to the apex of your thighs.

“Show me,” he breathes, moving forward to kiss your lips. “Show me what I do to you.”

You begin rubbing your clit just as Flip assaults your senses in all other ways. He captures your mouth in a kiss while simultaneously returning to kneading at your breasts with abandon, tugging and squeezing at the pillowy flesh.

“Did you cry out my name in that empty house when you came?” he prompts. You shake your head feverishly, your thighs shaking around him as your climax nears.

“No. I didn’t cum. I saved that for you.”

In a flash of blinding pleasure, you unraveling on top of him, careful to suppress the reaction to little gasps and whimpers instead of the loud praise and guttural moans you would have preferred to let out. The suddenness of your orgasm catches Flip off guard and he is utterly unprepared for the way your walls flutter and pulse, ultimately milking his cock of his own release. You collapse in his arms with a shaky laugh, one he’s only able to reciprocate when the ringing in his ears begin to lessen and his heart stops trying to pound a route out of his chest.

You both revel in the afterglow for a few minutes after, holding each other like you aren’t in his office in the middle of the Colorado Springs Police Department. Like people aren’t about to file in after their dinner break, bellies full and completely unaware of the fact that Flip had just railed you into next February.

After a while, Flip finally pulls out and tucks himself away, once again the picture of professionalism. Or at least, as much the picture of professionalism as Flip cares to appear, what with his eternal flannel and comfortably warm in jeans, the wet patch of your arousal finally fading. He helps you clean up with some napkins he has stashed in a drawer, ultimately bundling you back up in your coat and scarf. You now look sweet and warm again, a stark contrast to the vixen who had crawled across his desk and stripped for him.

Now descent, you settle back into his lap sideways, opting not to straddle him tis time in case someone did finally walk in. You run a finger through the hair at his chin.

“You said earlier you said you’d ended up setting something up for me. What was it?”

Flip blinks at your question for a few seconds before letting out a laugh that ripples from deep in his belly.

“I sent Jimmy and his brother with a box of chocolates over to the house. They were supposed to sing you a Motown duet.”

“I would pay to hear that. When are they supposed to get there?”

“They’re supposed to arrive right now.”

With that you dissolve into a fit of laughter, falling into his chest as you heave from it. Flip’s arms wind around you and tug you tighter to him. And in that moment, he almost believes in this stupid holiday. Almost believes in the cartoon hearts and the fat little winged baby that flies around shooting people. What else could possibly explain the sharp pain radiating from his chest when he looks at you? The ache that dulls as it floods to his extremities, simmering into a warmth that fills him from head to toe? All Flip can think as he smooths his thumb over your smiling lips is that cupid better have a up-to-date permit for that bow of his.

~*~

Tagging some lovelies <3 (please let me know if you would like to be added to or removed from this list in the future!): @noocturnalchild @thedivinemissn @insufferablelust @historyandfandoms50 @lostinthedrive @thewilddingleberries @edencherries @mariesackler @safarigirlsp @direnightshade @sacklerscumrag @paper-n-ashes @clydesfavoritegirl @wayward-rose @hopeamarsu @thegreenmatt @barbers-glimmerin-darlin @finn-ray-nal-beads @fizzywoohoo @maybe-your-left @aliveandlonely @han-not-solo @morby @mrs-zimmerman @maryforyou @jynzandtonic @renmaulxo @millenialcatlady @equivocalrabbit @soggywhore @foxilayde @mylifeisactuallyamess

#request #queeniebee #anon #valentine's day #flip zimmerman x reader #flip zimmerman x you #Flip Zimmerman/reader #Flip Zimmerman/you #Flip Zimmerman smut #Flip Zimmerman fanfiction #smut #writing #roanniom #tw: semi public sex #cw: semi-public sex

195 notes · View notes

didanawisgi · 3 years

Photo

Martin Luther King Jr., Guns, and a Book Everyone Should Read

BY JEREMY S. | JAN 15, 2018

“Martin Luther King Jr. would have been 89 years old today, were he not assassinated in 1968. On the third Monday in January we observe MLK Jr. Day and celebrate his achievements in advancing civil rights for African Americans and others. While Dr. King was a big advocate of peaceful assembly and protest, he wasn’t, at least for most of his life, against the use of firearms for self-defense. In fact, he employed them . . .

If it wasn’t for African Americans in the South, primarily, taking up arms almost without exception during the post-Civil War reconstruction and well into the civil rights movement, this country wouldn’t be what it is today.

By force and threat of arms African Americans protected themselves, their families, their homes, and their rights and won the attention and respect of the powers that be. In a lawless, post-Civil War South they stayed alive while faced with, at best, an indifferent government and, at worst, state-sponsored violence against them.

We know the Supreme Court’s Dred Scott decision of 1857 refused to recognize black people as citizens. Heck, they were deemed just three-fifths a person. Not often mentioned in school: some of that was due to gun rights. Namely, not wanting to give gun rights to blacks. Because if they were to recognize blacks as citizens, it…

“…would give to persons of the negro race . . . the right to enter every other State whenever they pleased, . . . and it would give them the full liberty of speech . . . ; to hold public meetings upon political affairs, and to keep and carry arms wherever they went.”

Ahha! So the Second Amendment was considered an individual right, protecting a citizen’s natural, inalienable right to keep and carry arms wherever they go. Then as now, gun control is rooted in racism.

During reconstruction, African Americans were legally citizens but were not always treated as such. Practically every African American home had a shotgun — or shotguns — and they needed it, too. Forget police protection, as those same officials were often in white robes during their time off.

Fast forward to the American civil rights movement and we learn, but again not at school, that Martin Luther King Jr. applied for a concealed carry permit. He (an upstanding minister, mind you) was denied.

Then as in many cases even now, especially in blue states uniquely and ironically so concerned about “fairness,” permitting was subjective (“may issue” rather than “shall issue”). The wealthy and politically connected receive their rights, but the poor, the uneducated, the undesired masses, not so much.

Up until late in his life, MLK Jr. chose to be protected by the Deacons for Defense. Though his home was also apparently a bit of an arsenal.

African Americans won their rights and protected their lives with pervasive firearms ownership. But we don’t learn about this. We don’t know about this. It has been unfortunately whitewashed from our history classes and our discourse.

Hidden, apparently, as part of an agreement (or at least an understanding) reached upon the conclusion of the civil rights movement.

Sure, the government is going to protect you now and help you and give you all of the rights you want, but you have to give up your guns. Turn them in. Create a culture of deference to the government. Be peaceable and non-threatening and harmless. And arm-less, as it were (and vote Democrat). African Americans did turn them in, physically and culturally.

That, at least, is an argument made late in Negroes and the Gun: the Black Tradition of Arms. It’s a fantastic book, teaching primarily through anecdotes of particular African American figures throughout history just how important firearms were to them. I learned so-freaking-much from this novel, and couldn’t recommend it more. If you have any interest in gun rights, civil rights, and/or African American history, it’s an absolute must-read.

Some text I highlighted on my Kindle Paperwhite when I read it in 2014:

But Southern blacks had to navigate the first generation of American arms-control laws, explicitly racist statutes starting as early as Virginia’s 1680 law, barring clubs, guns, or swords to both slaves and free blacks.

“…he who would be free, himself must strike the blow.”

In 1846, white abolitionist congressman Joshua Giddings of Ohio gave a speech on the floor of the House of Representatives, advocating distribution of arms to fugitive slaves.

Civil-rights activist James Forman would comment in the 1960s that blacks in the movement were widely armed and that there was hardly a black home in the South without its shotgun or rifle.

A letter from a teacher at a freedmen’s school in Maryland demonstrates one set of concerns. The letter contains the standard complaints about racist attacks on the school and then describes one strand of the local response. “Both the Mayor and the sheriff have warned the colored people to go armed to school, (which they do) [and] the superintendent of schools came down and brought me a revolver.”

Low black turnout resulted in a Democratic victory in the majority black Republican congressional district.

Other political violence of the Reconstruction era centered on official Negro state militias operating under radical Republican administrations.

“The Winchester rifle deserves a place of honor in every Black home.” So said Ida B. Wells.

Fortune responded with an essay titled “The Stand and Be Shot or Shoot and Stand Policy”: “We have no disposition to fan the coals of race discord,” Thomas explained, “but when colored men are assailed they have a perfect right to stand their ground. If they run away like cowards they will be regarded as inferior and worthy to be shot; but if they stand their ground manfully, and do their own a share of the shooting they will be respected and by doing so they will lessen the propensity of white roughs to incite to riot.”

He used state funds to provide guns and ammunition to people who were under threat of attack.

“Medgar was nonviolent, but he had six guns in the kitchen and living room.”

“The weapons that you have are not to kill people with — killing is wrong. Your guns are to protect your families — to stop them from being killed. Let the Klan ride, but if they try to do wrong against you, stop them. If we’re ever going to win this fight we got to have a clean record. Stay here, my friends, you are needed most here, stay and protect your homes.”

In 2008 and 2010, the NAACP filed amicus briefs to the United States Supreme Court, supporting blanket gun bans in Washington, DC, and Chicago. Losing those arguments, one of the association’s lawyers wrote in a prominent journal that recrafting the constitutional right to arms to allow targeted gun prohibition in black enclaves should be a core plank of the modern civil-rights agenda.

Wilkins viewed the failure to pursue black criminals as overt state malevolence and evidence of an attitude that “there’s one more Negro killed — the more of ’em dead, the less to bother us. Don’t spend too much money running down the killer — he may kill another.”

But it puts things in perspective to note that swimming pool accidents account for more deaths of minors than all forms of death by firearm (accident, homicide, and suicide).

The correlation of very high murder rates with low gun ownership in African American communities simply does not bear out the notion that disarming the populace as a whole will disarm and prevent murder by potential murderers.

Centers for Disease Control (CDC) estimated 1,900,000 annual episodes where someone in the home retrieved a firearm in response to a suspected illegal entry. There were roughly half a million instances where the armed householder confronted and chased off the intruder.

A study of active burglars found that one of the greatest risks faced by residential burglars is being injured or killed by occupants of a targeted dwelling. Many reported that this was their greatest fear and a far greater worry than being caught by police.48 The data bear out the instinct. Home invaders in the United States are more at risk of being shot in the act than of going to prison.49 Because burglars do not know which homes have a gun, people who do not own guns enjoy free-rider benefits because of the deterrent effect of others owning guns. In a survey of convicted felons conducted for the National Institute of Justice, 34 percent of them reported being “scared off, shot at, wounded or captured by an armed victim.” Nearly 40 percent had refrained from attempting a crime because they worried the target was armed. Fifty-six percent said that they would not attack someone they knew was armed and 74 percent agreed that “one reason burglars avoid houses where people are at home is that they fear being shot.”

In the period before Florida adopted its “shall issue” concealed-carry laws, the Orlando Police Department conducted a widely advertised program of firearms training for women. The program was started in response to reports that women in the city were buying guns at an increased rate after an uptick in sexual assaults. The program aimed to help women gun owners become safe and proficient. Over the next year, rape declined by 88 percent. Burglary fell by 25 percent. Nationally these rates were increasing and no other city with a population over 100,000 experienced similar decreases during the period.55 Rape increased by 7 percent nationally and by 5 percent elsewhere in Florida.

As you can see, Negroes and the Gun progresses more or less chronologically, spending the last portion of the book discussing modern-day gun control. It’s an invaluable source of ammunition (if you’ll pardon the expression) against the fallacies of the pro-gun-control platform. It sheds light on a little-known (if not purposefully obfuscated), critical factor in the history of African Americans: firearms.

On this Martin Luther King Jr. Day, I highly recommend you — yes, you — read Negroes and the Gun: the Black Tradition of Arms.

And I’ll wrap this up with a quote in a Huffington Post article given by Maj Toure of Black Guns Matter:

https://cdn0.thetruthaboutguns.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/01/huffpo-maj-toure.jpg”

#books #black history #history #american history #Guns #civil rights #constitution #supreme court #gun control #martin luther king jr.#dread scott #concealed carry #concealedcarry #everydaycarry #gun confiscation

288 notes · View notes

realcube · 4 years

Text

Shopping headcanons w/ BNHA 🛍

Momo x Reader

Iida x Reader

Todoroki x Reader

tw// intense money spending 😎, cussing, reader wears a dress-

Momo Yaoyorozu x Reader

Prom in your school was coming up and Momo appeared to be fully booked that day and she felt horrible about it as she really wanted to be the one in all the pictures but..hey, what can you do?

She felt like the only way to make it up to you was by buying your dress and since you hadn’t even started looking yet, she decided to made it a date!

She took you to a designer outlet in hopes of finding you the prom dress of your dreams so that when she sees the pictures of you at prom, she can at least feel like she did something

There were only 5 dress places in the whole outlet though and one of them was for wedding dresses and in all honesty, you didn’t plan on showing up to prom in a gown and veil

However, there were lots of women’s fashion shops so there were a fair selection of dresses in each of those but most of those were party dresses and they were cute but not the sort of vibe you were going for.

Momo didn’t let you look at any shoes though until you found your dress - it was probably for the best though because she said that ( from experience ) the worst situation is when you fall in love with a pair of shoes but can’t find a matching dress; she does want you to suffer the same way she did

You both popped into every store that sold dresses you cam across and Yaoyorozu made you try on every dress you even spared a glance to and then you’d put on a little fashion show for in every shop

Not that you minded though, you actually thought it was quite fun

You also found her little cheers for you absolutely adorable, because every time you’d exit the changing room she’d be like

“Yessss, (Y/N)! That dress is so gorgeous - or that might just be you but that colour really brings out you eyes.”

“Nooo, you can’t wear that to prom. You’ll make all the other ladies jealous!”

“Oh my lord above, that dress makes you look like prince(ss)! I love it! What do you think?” Momo inquired, covering her agape mouth with her perfectly manicured fingers.

You twirled in front of the mirror, admiring the dress from every angle, “I mean, I adore it but..”

“But what, my love?”

You don’t know why you even bothered mentioning it as you already knew what Momo was gonna respond with but you said it anyway;

“It is too expensive.”

Yaoyorozu gasped, taking your hand and looking you dead in the eyes, “My love, don’t worry about it! I doesn’t matter how much it costs, money is but a number. All that matters is that you strut into prom feeling comfortable and beautiful - and you don’t need an expensive dress to look beautiful but it helps.” She giggled, flicking her ponytail over her shoulder.

She always knows what to say-

She ended up buying the dress for you and of course you wore it to prom with the matching shoes, brooch and tiara she bought for you as well.

She’s honestly so extra but that’s one of the many reasons why you love her

Tenya Iida x Reader

I am a firm believer that this man’s love language is receiving/giving gifts

So obviously he needs someone who is on the same wavelength as him..and that’s you!

Every time he goes out shopping with his pals or just by himself - even if it is just to the supermarket - he will die and be resurrected before he leaves the place without a gift for you

Like it can simply be him going out to get groceries and coming back with a bar of your favourite chocolate

Or it can be him going to a designer outlet looking for a tuxedo and coming back with a Pandora bracelet for you

And obviously, you do the same for him so whenever you are on one of your all-expenses-paid vacations with your mother, you are sure to bring back a souvenir for Iida

( sometimes you even forget to buy something for yourself because the first person on your mind is always Tenya )

Now, it was your birthday

And considering he’s already set the bar so high and the next step up from the stuff he had already bought you would be a diamond ring - he was pretty stumped for ideas.

He hated to be unimaginative but it’s not like he had many other options at this point so he settled on taking you shopping for your birthday; at a designer outlet, of course.

It was pretty weird though because him buying you stuff from the love in his heart was different to you asking for him to buy you something - which is what this little shopping trip felt like

Also, it was very awkward just having him follow you around the shops and stuff - like he didn’t even go on his phone or anything, he just followed you and watched you shift through the clothes like 👀

But you couldn’t get mad at him though because every so often he would go off on his own and come back holding a random article of clothing that he thought ‘would look cute on you’ and you found that absolutely adorable.

Especially because 9 times out of 10 it was a very dainty piece and he’d hold it up to himself to demonstrate, as if you were built like him at all.

“I have no idea what these little spaghetti bits are for but I think it is supposed to be worn like this.”

And then he proceeds to wear a thong as shoulder pads

Shoto Todoroki x Reader

he texts you in the middle of the night like ‘hi’

‘hi, Shoto! why are you up so late?’

‘i know the PIN for my father’s credit card’

‘ok-’

‘meet me @ the mall tomorrow @ 1pm

‘why?’

‘we’re going shopping and i will buy that dress you wanted’

usually, you never bought anything. the only time you’d get new clothes was when you got your cheque from your job and most of the time, you’d never accept any gifts or let anyone buy for you

but this was an exception..

of course you agreed, i mean, why would you pass on the opportunity to exploit your boyfriend’s father’s credit card i mean- it’s not like he was tight on funds

so you met up with Todoroki the next day in your usual meeting spot and you showed him the dress you were talking about and he bought it on his father’s card

he told you to go crazy so you figured while you were at it, you may as well get a pair of shoes to match - so you did!

After you had finished up your little shopping spree, Todoroki took you out for lunch at you favourite restaurant

As the day came to an end, you were sitting on a bench in the park with Shoto, eating ice-cream when he turned to you and said, “Happy birthday, by the way.”

“Oh, thank you--wait!”

He chuckled, a rare occurrence but the perfect gift for your birthday. “Your a smart girl, I’m sure you’ve figured it out already.”

“DID YOU TRICK ME INTO LETTING YOU BUY ME STUFF BY TELLING ME IT WAS ON ENDEVOUR’S CARD?!”

“Yes.”

“Good thing I still have the receipt then.”

“Don’t you dare.”

430 notes · View notes

oftenderweapons · 3 years

Note

heyhey! if possible, i’d like to place my order for a strawberry smoothie + spinach & artichoke dip + clam chowder + bbq sandwich. thank youuuu 💕💕

Pairing: Taehyung x reader

Wordcount: 3.3k

Genre: smut. Final fluff. But mostly smut. Pining. Drabble for Bangtan Bistro

Rating: 18+

Tonight we’re serving

- Strawberry Smootie: Kim Taehyung

- Spinach and Artichoke dip: Smut

- Clam Chowder: “What do you mean my meal has already been paid for?” (It’s been rephrased for stylistic purposes)

- BBQ sandwich: Celebrity in Disguise (you need to squint but I swear it’s there just read till the end LOL disguise might have been taken a bit too literally)

TRIGGER WARNINGS: okay, mild alcohol consumption (wine, brandied cherries), swearing, dirty talking, heavy flirting, making out, oral sex (sixty-nine, face fucking male receiving), brief masturbation (male and female receiving), briefest mention of rimming female receiving (just a quick lick *wink wonk*), quite rough sex, manhandling, one degrading comment, impregnation kink and breeding kink, lactation kink (I guess), mild bondage (knees), outright ramming, cumeating and creampie. Final soft, sweet surprise I don’t wanna spoil, I promise it’s a good thing.

Remember to vote for next prompt here and here is my complete masterlist!

Also, lemme self promote my new Taehyung AU

Bfbfhreb there, ready to go! Enjoy 💜✨

Feeling the scorching hotness against your spine was exciting. His eyes were there, planted against the see-through back of your blouse and you could feel them like molten metal dripping down your skin.

He was following the line of pearl buttons tracing your spine, holding close the sheer peacock blue gossamer.

Taehyung licked his lips subconsciously, his mind already wild with pictures of his fingers snapping every button open, one by one.

“Sir, may I ask your order?” A waiter interrupted his musings.

The young man startled. “Steak. Rare. And… Uhm, you do have a Nobile di Montepulciano 2018, right? Just a glass. One for the lady at the bar too. Roasted vegetables with the steak.” He closed the menu and placed it on the table. He loosened his tie discreetly.

The waiter checked the wine chart and confirmed the order. “The steak right away? No appetisers?” He asked.

Taehyung followed you as a polished waitress accompanied you to a table across the room, the iridescent fabric of your top shimmering in a holographic effect under the soft light of the chandeliers.

“No appetisers,” he confirmed, his eyes never leaving you. “About that glass of merlot for the lady. She has moved over there,” he curtly indicated the direction with a nod of his chin. Looking at the waiter he searched the backpocket of his slacks. “Now,” He extracted his wallet, looking for a note and laying a 50,000 won piece on the table. “I know this might come off as rude but I’m asking for more than food, so…” Taehyung let the sentence fall eloquently. “Tell me something about her. Name, phone number, shoe size, I don’t care as long as I get to see her again.”

The waiter’s eyebrows shot up. “Of course, sir. She usually comes here with her friends, but tonight apparently she is by herself. They usually come on Thursday night.”

Thursday, of course.

Taehyung smiled. “Thank you. But I need a bit more than that.”

“I’ll come back with more, I promise.” The waiter bowed politely and left. Shortly after, Taehyung noticed the waiter walking to your table bottle in hand, gesturing to the other table as he talked to you discreetly. From the distance he could recognise a small smirk aimed in his direction, before you turned to the waiter, batting your lashes as you nodded.

He noticed a set of earrings glimmering like twin stars at your earlobes, while a fine thread of diamonds adorned your neck, matching the other pair of jewels.

The waiter poured your wine and leaned towards you, the epitome of politeness as he explained the situation very elegantly.

You were slightly surprised but didn’t let his words sway you too much. Keeping a sphinx-like composure you said something Taehyung couldn’t decipher from the distance, the waiter walking in his direction straight away.

“The lady said she is waiting for you to drink, sir.”

Glass half full, Taehyung lifted it in your direction, waiting for you to mirror the gesture. He cocked an eyebrow as you did, tipping the rim in your direction before bringing it to his lips and taking a small sip, observing your red lips lay on the glass while your neck stretched.

Watching your throat move as you swallowed was a vision too erotic for him to handle, and he politely fixed his stance, trying to alleviate his need.

Just as his steak was delivered, he was struck by surprise as the same dish was served at your table.

If he didn’t know any better, he would have thought it a shame that you and him were sitting alone, ten metres apart at two different tables.

A part of him was pleased to realise that you had specifically asked his exact same order; however, his ego was drastically redimensioned once you started eating. You were a tease, licking your lips as the juices from the meat glistened on the deep scarlet colour of your lip tint. He felt embarrassed at the amount of details he could see now thanks to arousal, feeling like a predator as he studied your hands gripping the cutlery, your mouth opening wide for a bite too big, and the wine. He loved watching you drink. He loved watching the diamonds twinkle as your throat moved.

He was almost sad the moment he noticed you had both finished the food.

“Please, put the lady’s bill on me,” the waiter nodded as he took the empty dishes away.

“She wanted me to tell you her shoe size is seven and a half and that she doesn’t want anything less than six inches.”

Taehyung snickered and looked at the table cloth as he felt his cheeks blush. “I know I’m asking a lot of you, but would you tell the lady that I’m interested in another kind of number?”

“About that, she mentioned 100-85-120. I believe you can understand perfectly.” The waiter commented. “May I bring the dessert chart? Or would you perhaps be interested in today’s special?”

Taehyung nodded to himself. “What about your divine flaming cherry bites?”

The waiter bowed his head in acknowledgement. “For the lady too?”

Taehyung smiled. “Yes.”

The older man was glad to assist the young customer, not at all because of the tip — he would have considered it rude from anyone else, however the warm smiles and the way he used honorifics and register had the man trusting the wealthy, polished kid. He almost felt fatherly sympathy for the smooth charmer sitting at the table: he looked at the woman with nothing but adoration and devotion. There were at least twenty women in the room, some of which had way more skin on show, and way sultrier looks; still, he only had eyes for you.

Once dessert was delivered at both your tables, the flirting resumed, your instincts awakening dangerously as he made a fine work of licking his fingertips, stained with the chocolate sauce covering the brandied cherries elegantly placed on a small pastry basket.

It was your turn to catch fire as you stared at his deep, dark eyes, his unwavering glance, and the beautiful shape of his mouth, his brown, wavy locks pushed back elegantly. He looked like the devil.

And you had every intention of burning in his flames.

As you asked for the bill, the waiter shook his head politely. “The gentleman at the table over there has already taken care of it, miss.”

Your eyebrows shot up before you smirked. “Then I think I should stop by and thank him.”

“He’ll be more than glad, miss.”

“Thank you for your help. I hope your shift will proceed smoothly, mr Lim.” You rose to your feet.

“It is always a pleasure having you here. Greet your friends on my behalf.”

You chuckled gently. The kind, warm man had seen you and your mates come across the foyer so many times, for dinner or for drinks. He always exchanged greetings and was always happy whenever you asked him about his family and the business. “Will do. Goodnight then.”

“Goodnight, miss.”

You took slow steps in the man’s direction, stopping beside him. “I believe I owe you a thank you.”

“No need to thank me.” He said, looking up at you.

“What if I wanted to thank you.” You replied slowly and quietly.

“How?”

“An empty hotel room can be very lonely.” You said, looking at your feet and toying with a keycard in your hands. “I’ve booked a room to celebrate my birthday and let me tell you everything has been so dull so far.” You pouted a little before shrugging casually. “Maybe we could turn the night a little brighter.”

“I am a gentleman, I don’t really like visiting ladies in their private rooms.” He looked away theatrically. “However, how would I disappoint such a refined woman? And leave you all alone on your birthday. I believe that would be unforgivable.”

“Indeed.” You confirmed.

As he stood up, he placed an arm around your waist. “Sorry, I tend to be an old school romantic. Stop me if you feel uncomfortable.”

“I love a bit of romance.” You smiled at him, batting your lashes seducingly. “What brings you here for a lonely dinner?”

“Business.” He replied curtly.

You snickered. “Of course.”

“Floor?” He asked once in the lift.

“Thirty-fourth,” you replied, fixing your skirt.

“Pretty high up,” he commented, pressing the button.

You resisted ten floors before staring at his lips. By floor fourteen his mouth landed on yours, sucking your lower lip, enjoying the plumpness of it before he opened wide, his tongue sliding out and entering your mouth, tickling your palate before swirling round your appendage.

His palm caressed your side, reaching your asscheek and squeezing it, his throat emitting a low hum.

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t hold on anymore,” he apologised as he parted from you once the doors dinged and opened.

You fixed your hair, his hand gesturing for you to lead the way — an excellent excuse to stare at your behind as you walked in front of him.

Once you reached the door, he kissed your nape while you slipped the keycard into the lock. His hands were already fumbling with the tiny buttons before the door would even buzz open.

“You can call me Nymph.” You said, as his hands proceeded working the small buttons.

“Of course. I'm Sir to you.” He stated sternly.

You smiled and shook your head. “Of course.”

You turned around and took off your shirt. “Get yourself naked.” You said distractedly.

He clenched his jaw at your command but obeyed nonetheless. “Nothing less than six inches?” He commented as you slipped off your heels, his glance following the red soles of your stilettos.

With a hand to his chest you pushed him with his back to the wall and teasingly dragged your palm all the way to his belt, lingering there a while before moving further down. “I’m sure you can deliver.”

“In kind.” He smirked, his eyes rolling shut as your fingers teased him over his slacks.

“Naked, now, sir.” You ordered.

“A hungry Nymph we have here.” He commented, undoing his necktie and throwing it on the bed. Next, he only undid the buttons necessary to get his shirt off. His undershirt was gone in seconds, just as your blouse and skirt disappeared, your body clad in a burnt pink silk slip.

Taehyung licked his lips and undid his belt, kicking his slippers close to the door before getting rid of his trousers lightning fast.

“Shall I get on the bed?” You asked, taking a few steps back.

“Oh no. Stay right there, Nymph.” He ordered, standing in nothing but his underwear before placing his hands around your waist and pulling you closer, kissing your neck, your chest, your hardened nipples hidden underneath the smooth silk. He began walking you backwards to the bed.

“Climb,” he purred once the back of your calves touched the mattress, making you turn to face the bed, your body kneeling on the comforter before he pushed your front down, getting you on all fours. He flipped your slip up, exposing your skimpy panties. “I’m gonna rip these.” he growled before biting your ass.

“Don’t. Just take them off.” You replied, turning around to look at him with imploring eyes. You didn't want to ruin the set.

He followed your request, immediately dipping his nose in your wetness once he managed to unstick the fabric from your folds. Shamelessly, he moaned as his tongue went from your dripping hole to your puckered one, laving it lewdly.

“Yes, Sir.” You keened, pushing back against his tongue.

He chuckled, parting from you, standing to his feet and taking off his boxers.

His cock pulsated painfully at the sight of you, at the way you stared at him while he reached the other side of the bed and laid down, settling in the middle, his erection right below your awaiting mouth.

You tried to lower yourself and swallow his tip, however he stopped you. “Get on my face right now, Nymph. I wanna see if you taste as expensive as you look.” He growled.

You simply licked your lips, his cock twitching as your hot exhale caressed his flushed skin. He was so veiny, and all you wanted to do was check if you could feel that against your inner walls. Straddling his face, you settled on top of him, not wasting a second before taking him in your mouth now that he was underneath you, under your control.

He moaned sinfully, his breath hitting your moist skin before his tongue flicked against your entrance, eliciting a contented hum.

For a few minutes all you could hear was the sounds of you sucking his cock, wet slurps filling your ears as your mouth became messy with saliva and his precum. At the same time, Taehyung was enjoying your cunt covering his whole face in juices, while some of his own spit eventually landed on his cheeks, coating his chin and nose too.

He was starved, shameless, wild. He parted from your folds only long enough to say 'naked, now'.

It didn't feel like there was any room for insubordination.

You freed his cock only long enough to remove your slip, sucking it back in your mouth before you took off your bra. As his hands met your breasts, grabbing them with thrilling pain, you felt him push you upwards away from his sex.

“I don't want to cum in your mouth. Gimme that tight, dripping cunt, Nymph,” he growled, touching your clit while his tongue teased the softest flesh of your labia.

“I'm going to ride your face, Sir?” You asked, feeling your breasts starting to bounce as your hips began grinding against him.

“Fuck my face, sweetness.” He replied, your body following his command straight away, your mouth opening in brainless, fucked out whimpers as your orgasm approached.

He kept going.

And even when you started to cum, he went on.

Even when you were humping against him ruthlessly, violently, he continued.

And when he noticed a second high take over, he outright refused to let go, no matter if you cried and begged and yelped.

He only calmed down once he felt you grab his cock and begin to stroke.

He slapped your mound violently, growling minaciously before he pushed you forward, on all fours, grabbing your thighs and opening his legs so that your front fell against the mattress once he pulled your knees from beneath you, placing your drenched core right against his crotch.

His stronger hand spanked your ass. “I told you I want to cum in your cunt and that's what you do?” He hit again. “Touch me so I'll have to cum on my belly like a teen nerd?” Another spank. “Hope you're gonna stay put now.”

He maneuvered the tip to your hole, sliding the head inside.

You purred and whined once you felt him sheathed deep in your core.

The angle was majestic. His upward curve teased the back of your vagina, rubbing against all the right spots, the soft head pressing against the inner nerves of your clitoris.

Just as you tried moving your hips against him, he sat up straighter and grabbed your hips, shoving you on his cock with breakneck speed, making your front burn with the friction against the sheets.

“Sir, please. Please it burns.” You called, desperate after a minute or so, feeling your control slip.

He gave a few more thrusts before he realised you had voiced discomfort. “Inside? Am I going too fast, does it hurt?” He spoke with tenderness and apprehension.

You shook your head. “My chest against the sheets.” You explained with a small whine.

He nodded and laid down,catching your leg and leading it in a half circle motion, helping you roll on your back as you unstraddled him.

However, his kindness was short-lived. As soon as he found your calves beside his chest, he grabbed your ankles and sat up, bending your knees and blocking them with his forearm; his free hand searched for the necktie and, once he found it, he expertly slid it beneath your legs, and then around them, tying a knot above the swell of your calves.

You stared at him with your mouth open, eyes wide and inquisitive before a naughty grin lit up your face.

He rose to his knees, crawling closer to you, bending your knees to your chest and letting your ankles settle over his left shoulder.

“Hold on tight, Nymph.” He said, bracing a hand beside your face as he lined his shaft with your cunt, sliding in effortlessly, grunting at the unspeakable tightness of your sex. “Fuck me so good, sweetness.” He mumbled. “I'm gonna rail you.” He groaned as he felt his balls tighten. “I'm gonna fill you up and watch those tits grow once you're full of my babies.” He teased. “Now you're gonna milk this cock and take every drop of my cum.”

You mewled at his sinful intent, squeezing round him and feeling his hand generously finger your clit.

“Please, fill me up. Please. I want to be heavy with your babies.”

“And you're gonna lactate them.” He whispered darkly at your ear, making the gesture feel so dirty, even though it was just natural mammal anatomy.

“I will, Sir.” You cried out, feeling your end tower over you.

“And once they're done suckling, I'll take my turn.” He growled. He had only maybe three strokes left before he would cum.

“I'm yours. All yours. Please, breed me, Sir. I'm yours,” you wailed, voice close to breaking.

“You are my horny little cumslut,” he snarled before joining your mouth with his, covering both your and his cries as you finally reached the peak.

His cock drilled deep into you as he coated your inner walls in cum, the hotness and stickiness of it pouring out of you and gluing him to your entrance.

It felt magnificent.

“I know you.” He whispered gently at your ear. “My most precious darling.”

You were still drifting ecstatically, your eyes opening slowly, lazily.

“Hello Lace.” He cooed at you, smiling softly. “Welcome back, my love.”

You mirrored his smirk and wiggled your feet against his shoulder. “Hello, my beloved fiancé. Would you please do me the courtesy of untying that?” You arched an eyebrow.

He chuckled and obeyed, almost expecting you to slide off of him; instead, you simply moved a leg to his other side and crossed your ankles behind him to tug him close to you.

“That impregnation thingie really got you going, uh?” You said, wiggling your eyebrows at him.

He nodded and kissed your chest, cupping it softly and pecking your nipples, your skin still flushed from the burning friction and the recent orgasm. “Even though I know you're covered, I find the idea so sexy.” He confirmed, pressing his face to the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent. “You looked very hot in that outfit. It really made me want to seduce you all over again.”

“It was fun watching you act the part. You even tipped the waiter.” You chuckled.

“You told me your measurements, Miss 'no less than six inches'.” He kissed your earlobe. “Do you know they're the combination of the apartment safe?”

You laughed and then quieted down for a second. “I wanted to jump your bones the very moment I saw you.”

“Happy to know my future wife still gets the hots for me.” He commented, matter-of-factly.

You giggled quietly. “I love you.”

He combed your hair slowly, tenderly. “I love you too.”

#taehyung x reader #kim taehyung smut #thebtswritersclub #thetruthuntoldnet #bangtansorciere #taehyung x yn #taehyung fluff

144 notes · View notes

atlafan · 3 years

Text

Burning Love - Part Two

a/n: here’s part two! The dang gif I’ve been using didn’t feel like showing up, but the yoga one actually works for this part, enjoy! Feedback and reblogs are helpful! Support me here if you’re able! (not proofread)

Warnings: cocky!Harry flirting, a whole mess of angst, mentions of blood, fluff, and smut!

Words: 5K

Pairing: Harry x OC (kindergarten teacher Danielle Robinson)

Masterpost

After his date with Danielle, Harry went out to grab a couple of drinks with his friends. This resulted in him going home with one of his usual hookups. He never claimed to be a saint. Shauna was a lovely woman, and usually down to fuck when Harry wanted it. She just happened to be at the same bar as him, and he wanted to make sure she got home alright.

He didn’t kiss her, though, at least not on the lips. He didn’t want to taint the nice kiss he had with Danielle. Harry was just looking to get off, and he didn’t feel like using his own hand tonight. Shauna was going to town, bouncing up and down on his dick, letting out sweet moans. Usually Harry would put a little more effort in, but he was almost disappointed. He’d rather be fucking Danielle. Well, he’d rather be having a nice conversation to her that would perhaps lead to some hot love making because he felt like that’s what she deserved, but still…Shauna just wasn’t doing it for him.

“Is it good for you?” She pants.

“Hm, yeah, keep going, I’m almost there.” He thrusts up into her and her head rolls back. She reaches to rub her own clit, and he spills into the condom. Once they’re both cleaned up, he gets dressed and sighs heavily. “Hey, uh, I don’t wanna be an ass or anything, but I think this is the last time I can do this with you.”

“Oh…um…can I ask why? Did I do something you didn’t like?”

“No, no, you were great.” He gives her hand a squeeze. “It’s just…I met someone, and I’d like to see where things go with her. I wouldn’t feel right if we kept doing this.”

“I get it.” Shauna swallows. “Well, thanks for letting me know.” She sighs.

“Thanks for understanding.” He pecks her cheek. “I’ll see you around.”

As Harry was driving home, he actually couldn’t believe that he fucked someone after going out on a perfectly lovely date with Danielle. He felt like scum, and he was glad he broke things off with Shauna. Harry could be classified as a kind playboy. He fucked, but he wasn’t in the business of breaking hearts. And maybe when he first met Danielle, he would have liked to just take her into her classroom closet and fuck her, but the more he saw of her over the week, he felt a fondness for her start to grow. He’s never really been a one-woman kind of guy, but there was something special about Danielle that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. If he were to ever settle down with someone, he would want to do it with a woman like her. So, he knew he needed to cut the shit, and cut off anyone else he didn’t want to potentially get serious with.

On Monday, between her groups, Danielle was just about to dive into her tuna pita pocket when she heard a knock on her door. She sighs and stands up, wondering who it could possibly be. When she opens the door her mouth falls open when she sees Harry.

“H-Harry, hi.”

“Hi.” He smiles. “Thought I’d pop in since I know this is when you’re usually having lunch. Is that alright?”

“Yeah, come in.” She steps aside and closes the door once he makes his way in. “Did you have a nice rest of your weekend?”

“I did, thanks.” He nods and then smirks when he sees her lunch on her desk. “I interrupted your lunch.”

“I was just about to eat, so you weren’t really interrupting anything.” She walks over to him. “This is a nice surprise.”

“Good, I’m glad you think so.” He wraps his arms around her and pulls her close to him, eliciting a surprised gasp from her.

She presses her hands to his chest as he kisses her. She lets him nibble and suck on her bottom lip again. She opens up a bit to get some air, and he takes this as an opportunity to lick into her mouth. He swirls his tongue around hers, and then goes back to biting her bottom lip before letting her go. She looks at him absolutely stunning.

“Um.” She takes a piece of gum out of her mouth. “I wasn’t chewing this before.”

“S’mine, sorry.” He opens his mouth and sticks out his tongue, and she places the gum back onto it. “Thanks.” He smiles. “Well, I’ll see you later.” He starts to walk away, but she grabs his wrist.

“Wait, is that all you came here for?”

“Pretty much, yeah.” She furrows her brows at that. “Was thinking about how nice it was kissing you the other night, and I really wanted to kiss you again, so I came here.” He reaches to tuck some hair behind her ear. “Is that okay?”

“Well…you could have texted me first. What if I had already started to eat my tuna? I would have been mortified.”

“Then I would have just let you keep my gum in your mouth.” He shrugs. “No big deal, love. Oh, I was also wondering how you’d feel if I came to one of your yoga classes on Friday.”

“You’d…really wanna do that?”

“Sure! I do yoga at home all the time. I meditate too, helps me unwind. I’d love to come to one of your classes, you know, help support. Then we could grab a drink or something afterwards…if you wanted.”

“Yeah! Sure, that sounds great. Um, let me give you one of my cards so you know where the studio is.” She rushes over to her purse and pulls out a card for him. “Here.”

“Thanks, so I’ll see you Friday?”

“Yeah.” She smiles. “I’m glad you came to visit.”

“Me too.” He pecks her lips and then heads out. Just once she’d like to not feel so flustered by him.

On Friday, Harry came to Danielle’s second class, which was at 5:15. He sets up in the back as to not make her nervous, but he still gives her a small wave. She waves back and a few of her friends give her a surprised look. Danielle notices that he’s wearing a long a sleeve tee. What in the actual fuck was so bad about a naked mermaid?

“Good evening everyone, we’re going to get started. Are there any particular areas you’re hoping to focus on?”

“Lower back!” Someone shouts.

“Arms!” Another person shouts.

Danielle gets her playlist ready, and begins the warm up. She has everyone reach above their heads, and then bend at the waist, breathing in and out slowly. The lights in the studio were dim, and the entire environment just felt extremely calm. Harry was enjoying it already. Danielle may have said she liked listening to Harry, but Harry liked listening to her just the same. Some of the yoga moves got more intricate as time went on, but no one minded. It made the cool down all the more rewarding.

“Now, I’d like you all to lay flat on your backs, close your eyes, and just focus on your breathing.” She says calmly and watches to make sure everyone does so. She sits down cross legged on her mat and closes her own eyes. “Let everything else drift away, nothing matters right now in this space.”

After about five minutes of meditation, the class ends, and everyone starts to pack up. Two of Danielle’s friends come up to her, and they share hushed giggles about the ‘cute guy in the back’.

“Shh, he’s coming over here.” She says to them. “Hi, Harry…these are my friends, Jen and Christine.”

“Hi, it’s nice to meet you both. “Sorry if I’m stealing Danielle from your girl’s night.”

“Oh, please, steal Dani all you want.” Jen laughs. “We can survive a Friday night without her.”

“Yeah, you two kids have fun.” Christine winks at Danielle and they both scoot out.

“Dani, huh?” Harry smirks.

“Sorry, you’re not privy to that nickname yet.” She smirks back at him.

He laughs and then leans in to speak closer to her ear.

“Challenge accepted.” He whispers and then steps back, grabbing both of their gym bags. “Do you need to go home first or anything?”

“No, I don’t usually break a sweat doing this.” She chuckles. “What bar did you want to go to? I can just follow you there.”

“You pick, it’s only fair since I picked the last spot.”

“Oh, well, have you ever been to Casey’s? That’s usually one of my go to’s.”

“Yeah, that place sounds familiar. Works for me.” He smiles and they both walk out to the parking lot.

Harry follows Danielle there, and then they both head inside, grabbing a high top to sit at.

“What’s your drink tonight?” He asks her.

“I’d love a vodka-tonic with lime, if you don’t mind.”

“Coming right up.” He says, kissing her cheek before heading up to the bar.

He had left his phone on the table, facing upwards. It wasn’t Danielle’s fault that when it lit up it caught her eyes. It also wasn’t really her fault that Harry didn’t have his texted on private, so she could clearly see what it said.

Shauna: H! Hey, I know you said you were sort of seeing someone, but I miss your cock, baby. I’m not gonna beg, but please consider stopping by tonight…I’ll let you put it in my ass, know how much you like that 😉

Danielle was shocked, to say the least. Although, Harry never explicitly said he was single. And the text from this Shauna person makes it seem like he wasn’t looking to see her anymore. Was Danielle the person he was seeing? It had only been a couple of weeks, he could be seeing a few different women. He liked to do anal…Danielle wasn’t sure if she was comfortable with that. She gets the sudden urge to stand up and leave, run out the door, block Harry’s number and pretend like they never met. But before she can do that, he’s back at the table with their drinks.

“Here you are.” He smiles as he places it down on the table.

“Thanks.” She says flatly. She notices that Harry just pockets his phone without even checking the text, and she scoffs slightly to herself as she takes a sip of her drink. “Your phone lit up while you were at the bar.”

“Oh? I’ll check it later, I don’t really like being on my phone when I’m on a date.” He grins.

“That’s very nice of you, but I really think you should check your phone.” Harry furrows his brows, but takes his phone out. His eyes widen when he looks at the text from Shauna, his mouth falls open, but Danielle speaks before he can. “I just happened to see it, I wasn’t prying. However, I feel really stupid. Here I was, thinking that I met this really sweet guy who’s a little flirty, but really wants to get to know me! You really had me fooled, Harry.” She laughs and takes another sip of her drink.

“Danielle, I’m so sorry you saw that text…Shauna’s just someone I was sort of hooking up with, but the last time I saw her I basically told her I didn’t want to see her anymore because I had met someone…you.”

“That would mean you saw her after our date last weekend, right? Surely you wouldn’t have said something after our first encounter.”

“I’m not gonna lie to you, I did see her after our date, but I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I didn’t even enjoy it. I…I just wanted you, Danielle.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better? Less stupid?” She shakes her head. “Thanks for the drink, but I’m heading home.”

“Wait, please don’t go. You can’t get upset with me over this. If you hadn’t seen the text you wouldn’t have even known about Shauna.”

“Exactly! How many other women are you seeing? Are there other kindergarten teachers you’re trying to fuck? It’s not like my school is the only elementary school in town.”

“No, there’s no one else I’m currently seeing. I really like you, and I’d like to see where this goes.”

“Let me ask you something. If I had been the one to go to the bar, and you saw a text on my phone from some guy that said I could fuck him in the ass if I came over tonight, you’re telling me you wouldn’t be put off or upset?”

“I already told you, I don’t like playing the what if game.” Her face stays cold and stoic. “I don’t know, I’d be more surprised than anything that you were into pegging.”

“God, you can’t take anything seriously!”

“Oi, I resent that. My entire job is serious. I put my life at risk every day that I put my uniform on. I think you’re making a way bigger deal out of this than you need to. You should be happy that I told her to bugger off because I want to be with you.”

“Oh, I should?” Her eyebrows raise. She hops off the stool and grabs her purse. “I don’t like guys who don’t give a fuck about juggling multiple women, or what effects that has on those women. Shauna must still be hung up on you, or she wouldn’t have texted you, Harry. I don’t need to deal with your baggage.” She huffs.

“You’re seriously going to leave?”

“I don’t want to spend another second with you.” She spits. “You’re not who I thought you were, or who I hoped you’d be, and I’m incredibly disappointed.” She starts to walk out of the bar, and he gets up to follow her.

“Would you just hold on a second?!” He shouts over the loud music, but she doesn’t turn around to look at him. He follows her out to the parking lot, and she grabs her pepper spray. He stops shirt and puts his hands up.

“I’m not afraid to use this, alright?”

“Can you just explain to me why you’re so upset about this? I could understand if we had been seeing each other for a while, but we haven’t. Am I not allowed a bit of a buffer to tie up some loose ends?”

“Loose ends?” She makes a disgusted face. “Harry, I’m sorry, I can’t be with a womanizer.”

“I’m not! I’m very upfront with my intentions when it comes to women. I’ve never led a single one of them on. Shauna was a woman I was hooking up with a bit more regularly, sure, but when I spoke with her she said she understood. I was just as shocked as you were to see that text. I’m so sorry you saw it.”

“You haven’t been upfront with me.” She says lowly.

“What?”

“You just said that you’re upfront with the women you see.” She swallows, and lowers her pepper spray back into her purse. “You haven’t exactly spelled out your intentions with me, Harry. I mean, it’s clear you want to fuck me, but what else do you want from me, huh?” Her bottom lip starts to quiver. “I’ve been hurt badly in the past, and I’m not going to let it happen again.” A few tears trickle down her cheeks, and Harry completely deflates.

“Danielle…I…I’m so sorry.” He steps a little closer to her. “I’m really taken with you. I want to keep getting to know you, and date you, and see where it goes. I don’t want to do anything that’s going to hurt you. That’s why I cut things off with Shauna, I swear. I’m really interested in you. When we kissed for the first time in my car, I couldn’t stop thinking about it, and I couldn’t stop thinking about when I’d get to do it again.” He was pleading with her now. He had never been so desperate to keep a woman around in his life.

Danielle sighs heavily. Maybe she was blowing things out of proportion, but that text really put a bad taste in her mouth. However, it’s not like Harry knew he was going to receive that text. If he had, he wouldn’t have just left his phone out like that. He would have been guarding it. He trusted her, and that was the light bulb she needed to go off.

“Okay.”

“Okay?” He says.

“I’ll give you a pass. I suppose it’s not your fault. I just hope you let her down as nicely as you’re saying.”

“I did, I swear I did.”

“Alright.” She nods.

“Would you come back inside?”

“No, I wanna go home.” She takes her keys out. “You can follow me there.”

“Really?”

“Yes…I owe you a second chance. I overreacted.”

“Hey, uh, if that set you off, like, your feelings are valid.” He assures her.

“I can explain more at my place, come on.”

Once they’re both at Danielle’s apartment, she gets them both set up with a cup of decaf before they both sit on the sofa.

“A few years ago…I found out my college sweetheart was cheating on me…because I happened upon a text on his phone. It was usually glued to him, but I had come over while he was in the shower, and…it was awful. I guess I was a little triggered before, even though I didn’t have the right to be.”

“Christ, that’s terrible. I’m so sorry.” He puts his hand over hers and gives it a squeeze. “How could anyone cheat on you, you’re so sweet and bubbly…and nice.”

“That was the problem. I was too nice. He didn’t think he’d ever get caught, and he told me that he didn’t think I’d actually leave him if he did.”

“Sounds like he was taking you for granted.” His eyebrows knit together. “That can really fuck a person up.”

“I haven’t really been involved with someone seriously since.”

“So…you haven’t-“

“I’ve had a few, brief hookups…a few date nights here and there, but I haven’t…I haven’t really wanted to let anyone in.” Her lip starts to quiver again. “And then I met you, and…it just felt so good to feel wanted and I freaked out when I saw that text because I thought this was going to end before it started.” She sniffles. “I’ve spent a lot of time putting myself back together, and it’s so fucking annoying that something so stupid could make me feel so lousy. I know you’re not my ex, but it’s hard not to think that…that-“

“Hey.” He caresses her cheek. “When I choose to focus on one person, I don’t go out looking for anyone else. I know I’ve only known you a couple of weeks, but I can’t imagine how someone could think they needed anyone else when they were lucky enough to have you.”

All of her features soften, and her suddenly frozen heart thaws for him once again. She tugs on the collar of her his shirt and crashes her mouth to his. For once, she’s the one to bite his bottom lip, and he hums appreciatively. Both of his hands cup her cheeks as the kiss deepens, their tongues molding together. She whimpers and moans into his mouth, he was such a good kisser.

“M’sick of being in these yoga clothes.” She breathes as he starts to kiss on her neck. She grips his hair and cranes her neck so he has access to more. “Do you wanna take a shower with me?”

“Are you serious?” He says as he pulls away to look at her.

“Yeah.” She nods and kisses him again. He quickly scoops her up, and throws her over his shoulder. “Harry!” She squeals.

“Which way to your bathroom?”

“Down the hall, through my bedroom.”

Harry finds his way through her apartment, and gets them both into the bathroom. He sets her down so she can start the water. In the meantime, he peels off his shirt, and lets it drop to the floor. Her eyes don’t know where to focus on first. He had so many tattoos.

“God, you’re so beautiful.” She says, and wraps her arms around his neck. His hands travel down to pull at the hem of her shirt, and he lifts it off, revealing her sports bra.

“So are you. Can I take this off?” He tugs at the straps of the bra.

“I’m certainly not planning on showering in it.”

He helps her take it off and his hands immediately move to cup her breasts. They sat a little lower on her frame, and were even larger than he anticipated, but they were hers so he liked them, a lot. He kisses down the column of her throat and down to her chest.

“The water’s probably warm enough now.” She grunts. “Need to get the rest of these clothes off.”

“Couldn’t agree with you more.”

They step back from each other so they can both take their pants off. Both of their eyes drift down for a split second before their bodies collide once more. They nearly trip as they get into the shower and under the warm water. Harry presses her against the wall as his tongue drags along her jaw and to her neck. Her head rolls back as her mouth falls open. He sucks a bruise into the crook of her neck and the gasp she makes fuels him to suck harder.

“Fuck.” She groans.

Harry licks his way down her chest, cupping her breasts so her can suck on one of her nipples. Her hands rake through his hair. He blindly reaches for her shower head and snatches it as he stands up straight.

“Wh-what are you doing?” She breathes as she watches him lower the showerhead, adjusting the setting on it so it sprays a specific way. He doesn’t say anything, he just presses the shower head to her pelvis and slides it over her clit. “Oh…oh!” She clutches at the tile on the wall as best she can. Her legs part just enough so he can maneuver the shower head easier.

He slots his mouth over hers and sucks on her tongue. She felt like she couldn’t breathe in the best possible way. The hand that wasn’t working the showerhead between her legs was planted on the wall next to her head. She couldn’t help but notice the veins in his arm and hand.

“H-Harry.” She licks her lips after he worked his mouth to her collar bone.

“Does it feel good?”

“Yes!” She mewls. Her hands move to his back, her nails clawing at his skin. “N-need more.” She wasn’t exactly sure what she needed more of, she just knew she needed it.

Before she knows it, he’s dropping to his knees, so he can see better, and thrusting two fingers up inside her. He focuses the showerhead on her clit, and her hands find their way to his hair. She tugs harshly, eliciting a moan from him and he looks up at her, pleading with her to do it again. His fingers curl up inside her and it has her panting.

“Oh, fuck! Just like that, oh my god!” She cries out as she comes to her release. He slowly stands back up and her eyes widen as he sucks his fingers into his mouth. He puts the showerhead back as well. She eyes flicker down to his hard, twitching cock. “I think we should get out.” She reaches to turn the water off. “You may be fine with getting on your knees in here,” she says as she grabs them both a towel, “but I much prefer the comfort of my bed.”

Once they’re both dried off, they drop their towels and get onto her bed. He lays back as she shifts between her legs. She rubs her hands up and down his thick thighs, tracing over his tiger tattoo.

“Do you ever, um, think I could see you in your uniform.” She says as she starts to pump him slowly.

“Got a little fantasy, do you?” He smirks.

“I wouldn’t mind watching you slide down that pole.” She smirks back, and then kisses his tip.

“Fuck, just, come up here.” He pats the tops of his thighs. “I need to fuck you before I explode.”

“Oh, yeah?” She licks up and down his shaft. “Wanna feel how tight and wet I am around you?” She bats her lashes up at him and he groans.

“Please.”

“Lay flat on your back.”

“You don’t want me to sit up?”

“No.” She shakes her head as she reaches into her side table for a condom. She rips open the foil packet and slides it onto him. She scoots up his body, that was now flat on the bed, takes his wrists and pins them above his head. She rocks herself back and forth on his cock until he slips inside her. They both moan out.

“Fuck, you like being in control, baby?” He says as he watches her get a rhythm going.

“Sometimes.” She comes almost all the way off of him and then slams back down. “I’m an educator, so I thought I’d teach you who’s boss here.” She leans down and kisses him before sitting all the way back up.

“A lesson I won’t soon forget, eh?”

“You have no idea.” She smirks. “Don’t thrust up into me.” She says as she lets his wrists go. “And keep your hands above your head.

“You’re not gonna let me touch you?”

“I let you get pretty handsy in the shower, count yourself lucky for that.”

She lets her hands fall behind her, planting on his thighs as she starts to bounce up and down on him. Once she feels like she won’t topple over, she lets her hands drag over her breasts, groping herself in front of him. He grunts and grits his teeth as he watches her.

“Like using my cock to get yourself off?”

“Yeah, how’s it feel?”

“You feel incredible, just wish I could-“

“I said don’t.” She warns him just as he was raising his hands, but he sets them back down on the pillows.

She plants both of her hands on his shoulders as she hovers over him. She rocks back and forth on his cock, rubbing her clit against him perfectly. She swivels her hips around on him in circles and she starts moaning.

“Danielle, please, you’re killing me.” Harry groans, sweat was starting to form at his hairline.

“Pretty sure you’re not supposed to address your teacher by their first name.” She says, ghosting her lips over his before kissing him. She moans into his mouth as she comes around him. She grinds against him a few more times, riding out her orgasm. “I know you can ask nicer than that.” She says, nibbling on his earlobe.

Harry was so fucking turned on. He never would have guessed that Danielle was a little kinky, but he was incredibly excited about it, so he plays along.

“Miss Robinson?”

“Yes?”

“May I please fuck you from behind and rearrange your guts?” He smiles at her sweetly.

“You may, but only because you asked so nicely.” She pecks his lips and gets off of him carefully. She gets on all four as he shuffles behind her. He gives her bum a little smack and she giggles.

Harry slides back inside her, a sigh of relief leaving him at the feeling of her warmth around him again. He grips the back of her neck to get a steady pace going. She drops her front half so her cheek is smushes against her pillows. She licks her finger tips and starts rubbing her clit.

“Harder.” She grunts, and he complies.

He gives her hard, deep, and fast thrusts which result in him hitting her g-spot over and over. It feels like an electric shock going through her body, and suddenly she’s seeing stars, coming around him once again. He spills into the condom shortly after due to the way she was squeezing him. She was still moaning even after he pulled out.

“Yeh liked that, huh?” He gives her bum a soothing pat before getting off the bed.

“It was so good.” She mewls as she rolls onto her back.

As Harry goes into the light of the bathroom, he furrows his brows as he takes the condom off. He notices a slight shade of pink on the rubber. He didn’t want to embarrass her, but he wonders if she started her period without realizing it. He picks up his boxers off the bathroom floor and wiggles them up his legs.

“Hey…Danielle?” She hums her response. He thought she looked like an angel, laying peacefully with her eyes closed. He sits on the edge of the bed, placing a hand on her thigh. “Babe, I don’t wanna embarrass you or anything, but I think you started your period?”

“What?” Her eyes open and she sits up. “That’s impossible, I had it last week. What makes you think I started it?”

“The condom was a little pink.”

Her face goes pale, and she licks her lips in thought.

“Excuse me.” She gets up, wrapping one of her blankets around herself as she goes into the bathroom. She sits on the toilet to pee. It doesn’t sting or hurt, but when she checks the toilet paper, she rolls her eyes when she sees the light pink color. It wasn’t period blood. She sighs and flushes the toilet, washing her hands before returning to the bedroom, and sitting next to Harry on the bed. “It, um, it’s not period blood. I…I think I tore a little. You fucked me pretty hard.”

“Why didn’t you tell me I was hurting you?! I would have slowed down or stopped; I feel terrible.”

“Don’t!” She shakes her head. “It didn’t hurt, it doesn’t even hurt now. It’s just been a little while for me, and you’re, um, bigger than I’m used to, and you fucked me hard. I wanted it that way, I’m not upset. It felt really, really good.” She gives him a soft smile. “Sorry if you’re grossed out…”

“I’m not, I just wanna make sure you’re alright.”

“I am…I’m really glad we did that.”

“Me too.” He leans in and kisses her tenderly. “Kinda wanna spend the night with you, would that be okay?”

“How are you at making breakfast?” She raises an eyebrow at him.

“M’aces at making pancakes.” He says with a bright smile. “Do you like pancakes, love?”

She nods her head yes, wrapping her arms around him and giving him quick kisses on his cheek. Did she have sex with him a little faster than she intended? Yes, but it was worth it. She felt incredibly close with him, and she couldn’t wait to see where things were going to go with Chief Styles.

#burning love #harry styles #harry styles au #harry styles imagine #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles series #firefighter!Harry #firefighterry

306 notes · View notes