#...she says„ lying to herself„ like a liar

[themoonking]

finally finished the priory of the orange tree after putting it off for like a year, and putting aside the fact that it's insanely boring, way too long, and the romance is lackluster, it certainly was a choice to, in a book at least in part about finding common ground and coming together, basically go "religion a is correct and good and its believers can continue on their merry lives, but religion b is a 100% incorrect wrong bad lie founded by a wrong bad misogynistic lying liar, and everyone who believes in it should convert and in fact we're going to end the book by heavily implying that the recently-converted queen is going to slowly but surely pressure the entire country to convert because their faith is wrong and bad". like that was certainly a decision that samantha shannon made.

[dream-eating-youkai]

this exchange is so fucking funny to me like Clara's like "but like. what if i lie to you what then" and Aglaya's like "you can't lie actually" and Clara's like "Fuck you I can lie whenever I want I do it all the time"

[icybreaths]

"Do you ever see someone so pretty, you need to chew through a two-by-four to cope?"

|| Asks || @kegarre ||

"Yes." her response is flat, immediate. She already had someone in mind...

"I'll go on really long walks away from everyone and tear up a bag of jerky until I feel sort of normal again, and then go home and drink about it and question my life decisions."

"Why do you ask? Someone on your mind?"

[just-aake]

Detecting Love

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: A person with the power to detect lies meets the spy who has been trained to lie her entire life.

Warnings: fluff, light angst

Words: 6169

You have the power to detect lies. 

Now, it’s not exactly strong enough to be a hero, but you can honestly say that it has been useful in your life. 

Sure, it gets annoying at times, but one of the many lessons you’ve learned is to ignore minor instances of dishonesty — white lies or small things like that — since it helps reduce unnecessary confusion or chaos with others.

People lie. That is an undeniable fact of life.

And while one may believe that being able to detect such things is great, the truth is there are times when you find yourself resenting your power. 

Because, of course, everyone experiences moments when they wish that someone important to them isn't lying.

Like when your fiancée tells you she loves you.

There wasn’t really a malicious reason behind why a usually affectionate statement suddenly became so hurtful.

There was no cheating.

There was no fighting.

It was just another one of the many lessons you’ve learned in life.

That sometimes…a truth can also become a lie.

It’s just unfortunate that this lesson happened to you in such a way.

These kinds of moments make you wonder if maybe it’s better that people shouldn’t always know when someone is lying to them.

Then they don’t end up alone, drinking at a bar late into the night, trying to numb the pain of a broken heart.

You let out a heavy sigh as you stare at the pair of rings resting on the bar top, remembering the conversation that ended with one of them being returned to you. 

It was a heart-wrenching discussion where your fiancée confessed her steadily changed feelings for you, leading to the resolution to remain friends. 

And while neither of you is completely at fault for why things ended, you can’t help but blame your stupid power for putting you in the situation in the first place. 

You sigh heavily once more before swiftly downing the glass the bartender had set in front of you.

At least your current attempt to drown your sorrow is going well, judging by how the rings start to blur in your vision.

With a sad sigh, you reach for the rings to put them away, but in your clumsy state, one slips from your grasp and tumbles to the floor.

Just as you move to retrieve it, a hand beats you to it. 

Looking up, you find a red-haired stranger standing before you, offering the ring to you with a charming smile.

She looks familiar but the drunken haze in your brain makes it hard for you to remember where you’ve seen her before.

“Here, you dropped this,” she says, her voice low and smooth.

She’s beautiful and her voice sounds perfect. You think to yourself as you take the ring from her.

She chuckles lightly, “Thanks.”

Oh, did you say that out loud? You must be more drunk than you thought.

The woman offers her hand to you in greeting, and with a confident smirk, she introduces herself.

“My name’s Natalie. Natalie Rushman.”

Immediately, a red aura surrounds her, causing you to roll your eyes and return your attention back to the bar. 

“Liar,” you mutter tiredly as you gesture to the bartender to close your tab, not really in the mood to deal with any more lies tonight.

At the corner of your eyes, you see the stranger give you a slightly impressed look.

Ready to leave, you stand up quickly from your seat.

However, the action makes the room suddenly spin in your vision, causing you to stagger backward. 

A hand steadies you, resting gently on your back, and you unconsciously lean back against her surprisingly strong frame for support.

There’s a soft chuckle near your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Let me try again,” she whispers smoothly, guiding you upright and turning you around to face her.

Offering her hand once more, she reintroduces herself.

“My name’s Natasha Romanoff. I’m here to recruit you to work for the Avengers.”

You blink slowly, trying to comprehend her words through your drunken haze. You wonder if the alcohol is affecting you more than you thought when no red aura appears this time at her words.

Chuckling to yourself, you shake your head in disbelief, unfortunately worsening the pounding in your skull. 

Work for the Avengers? That has to be a lie.

Before you can think about it any further, you feel yourself falling once more, unable to remain upright.

Strong arms catch you, and as your consciousness fades, you see a blurry glimpse of her striking green eyes before succumbing to darkness.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

You wake to the pounding in your head and the bright sunlight streaming through your window. Turning away, you groan into your pillow, remembering that your fiancée – your ex-fiancée – would typically close the curtains before leaving for work.

Now that she’s gone, you’re going to have to adjust to living alone once again.

A cup being placed on the nightstand startles you into sitting up, as you turn in surprise to find the beautiful red-haired stranger beside your bed.

“For your headache,” she explains, placing some medicine next to the cup.

Your mouth hangs open as you struggle to remember the events of last night, some of which are honestly a blur. 

You examine yourself, checking your clothes and finding them unchanged from the previous night, and then you scan your surroundings again and realize in relief that nothing was out of place.

Well, except for the presence of this stranger in your home, who’s patiently waiting for you to gather yourself.

Searching through your drunken memories, you think you vaguely remember meeting her last night. She had mentioned her name was — Nata…? 

“Natalie?” you ask with uncertainty.

At her raised brow, you quickly apologize, feeling bad for not remembering correctly.

“I’m sorry, I can’t seem to remember, but did we…did something happen between us last night?” you ask hesitantly.

Her face twists in genuine sadness and disappointment, causing a panic to run through you as you struggle to recall what could’ve possibly happened between the two of you for her to have such an expression.

“I’m hurt,” she finally says, placing a hand on her chest, “And after you even said that it was the best night of your life.”

Seeing the familiar red aura appear around her at her words, you let out a brief sigh of relief before realization sets in, and you give her a hard glare.

“You’re lying.”

Her hurt expression quickly morphs into an impressed look, and you are slightly startled at how effortlessly she was able to shift her emotions. 

The woman straightens her posture and crosses her arms, adopting a commanding stance that seems more likely her typical demeanor.

“So it’s not just luck,” she remarks, studying you curiously. 

At her words, you quickly rise from your bed in confusion.

However, the action causes you to wince in pain at the pounding in your head. 

Shutting your eyes tightly, you hold your head in comfort and lean lightly on the nightstand for support. 

As you do, your hand brushes against yesterday’s newspaper that you had been reading moments before your ex said those fateful three words that led to the heartbreaking conversation between the two of you. 

When the pain subsides, you slowly open your eyes, catching a glimpse of the front page before doing a double take.

The front features an article about the opening of the new Avenger Compound, including a photo capturing the Avenger members posed in front of the completed building. 

What catches you off guard is the uncanny resemblance between one of the Avengers in the picture and the woman standing before you.

Pointing at her in disbelief, you stammer.

“You’re…,” then, gesturing at the newspaper, you continue, “…her?”

She doesn’t respond to your question but instead nods toward your other room, inviting you to follow.

“Let’s talk,” she says, heading toward your door, then gestures at the medicine on your nightstand. “But drink those first.”

After freshening up in your bathroom, you take a moment to stare at your reflection in the mirror, noticing the remnants of last night’s tears in your slightly puffy, red eyes. 

Sighing, you brush away the depressing thoughts of your failed relationship before taking the medicine and exiting your room.

You are greeted by the sight of your unexpected guest comfortably seated at your kitchen counter, flipping through a magazine with casual disinterest.

“You’re Black Widow,” you say confidently this time, positioning yourself on the opposite side of her.

She closes the magazine with a snap, placing it on the table before clasping her hands atop of it and meeting your gaze.

“It’s actually Natasha,” she corrects you, before nodding at you. “And you’re Y/n L/n.”

“How did you…?”

She holds up a wedding invitation draft, displaying you and your fiancée’s names printed in fine lettering. 

Realizing that she must have been snooping around your things, you give her a disapproving glare, snatching the card from her hand and hastily stuffing it into a drawer.

Feeling a mixture of emotions—irritated, sad, hungover—you turn to the fridge, deciding to make breakfast to give yourself some focus. 

After you retrieve the eggs and other ingredients, you heat the stove before glancing at Natasha briefly, asking, “So, what does an Avenger want from me?”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see her resting her head against her hand, watching you with interest.

“I told you yesterday,” she replies.

You roll your eyes, giving her a deadpan look, knowing she’s aware that you don’t remember.

“Remind me again.”

Natasha gives you an amused smirk, straightening up in her seat. 

“Alright, I’m here to recruit you, more specifically for a sort of managerial position at the new Avenger Compound.”

Furrowing your brows, you question, “Why me? I don't have experience with that sort of thing.”

“But you can tell when someone is lying, can’t you?”

Pausing briefly in your cooking, you contemplate her words and its possible implications. Not many people know about your ability, and you don’t think you did anything to reveal it to the spy who’s currently staring expectantly at you.

So, in response, you shrug, replying as casually as possible. 

“I guess you could say I’m good at reading people…psychology degree and all.”

A silence ensues, broken only by the sizzling of your cooking, until Natasha finally nods, seemingly accepting your explanation.

You breathe a silent sigh of relief, returning your attention to your current task.

But then she pulls out a folder filled with documents and places it on the counter, causing your nerves to rise again.

“Well, you’ve helped solve hundreds of cases with your interviews of the suspects,” she remarks casually, flipping through the folder before glancing up at you through her lashes. 

“100% accuracy rate in the information that you provided to the detectives,” she continues, nodding at you in acknowledgment. “For a part-time profiler, that’s impressive.”

“Thanks,” you respond with a polite smile, but beneath the surface, a hint of suspicion creeps in as you begin plating the meal you made.

Natasha closes the folder with a definitive snap, making you look at her. 

“You could say it’s almost impossible,” she muses, before a confident smirk forms on her face, and she tilts her head at you with a raised brow in challenge. 

“Unless there’s some way you can guarantee that they’re telling the truth.”

Honestly, you should’ve known better than to think that the experienced spy hadn’t already completed thorough research and investigations into you and your powers before meeting with you.

If anything, this was likely just a test for her to confirm what she already knows about your abilities.

Sliding a plate across the counter to Natasha with a pointed glare, you relent, deciding there’s no point in denying it anymore.

“Fine, what do you know?” 

Instead of responding, Natasha’s gaze lingers on the plate before her, a hint of confusion in her expression. 

Her plate holds a fluffy omelette accompanied by a side of crispy bacon and a slice of golden-brown toasted bread.

As she glances back up at you with a questioning look in her eyes, you take a seat across from her, setting down a similar plate in front of you before also placing a stack of fluffy pancakes at the center.

“What’s this?” she asks, gesturing to the meal.

“Breakfast,” you reply bluntly, taking a bite from your plate.

Natasha raises a brow at you, remarking plainly, “It’s noon.”

“Brunch then,” you correct with a roll of your eyes.

Natasha's lips quirk up in amusement, and she shakes her head.

“Thanks, but I’ve already eaten.” 

The red aura appears around her, and with your mouth full of food, you give her a pointed glare.

“Right,” Natasha says in realization, remembering what you can do. She pulls the plate closer to her with a soft thanks. 

The atmosphere that followed was unusual but surprisingly not awkward. Despite being practically strangers, you find yourself slightly comforted by Natasha’s presence. 

If she wasn’t here, you probably wouldn’t have dragged yourself out of bed today after what happened yesterday.

After a moment of eating, Natasha breaks the silence.

“So, how can you tell when someone’s lying?”

Pausing to contemplate your answer, you wipe your mouth with a napkin before responding. 

“Well, when someone lies, there’s always this rush of chemicals that happens in their bodies,” you explain. “It ends up causing the typical indicators — things like fidgeting, sweating, or tone changes in their voice.”

“I didn’t do any of that, yet you still knew I was lying,” Natasha points out.

“No, you're right,” you admit, nodding. “You’re a perfect liar.”

From what you have seen so far, every expression and comment of hers appears genuine and honest, and if it was anyone else, they’d probably believe anything she says.

However, thanks to your ability, you know better. 

Gesturing at her, you clarify, “You still give off the same chemical reactions though, and I have the ability to see that.”

Natasha leans back in her seat, crossing her arms as she processes your explanation.

“It’s mainly visual then,” she concludes before asking curiously. “You don’t even need to hear what they said to know that they’re lying?” 

You nod, ruefully adding, “Yep, my world’s just filled with people glowing red at random.”

“And how long does this ‘glow’ stay around them?”

“Depends,” you reply with a shrug. “Usually not long, maybe a few seconds.”

Natasha hums in interest, tapping her chin, her brows pinching lightly in thought.

You can’t help but smile amusedly at the sight. 

For a person who has such an intimidating reputation, the spy in front of you right now looks kind of cute rather than scary.

After a moment, you break the silence this time.

“So, what’s the job?” 

Natasha’s eyes focus back on you at your question.

“Nothing too complicated,” she assures. “You’ll be in charge of interviewing the new employee candidates and conducting continuous reviews of the current ones.”

“You mean like screening them?” you ask, tilting your head in confusion, already aware of the rigorous and difficult process required to work at the Avengers buildings. 

“Don’t you guys already do extensive background checks before hiring people? Why do you suddenly need me?”

At your question, a charming smile appears on her face, effortlessly shifting her expression like before, though now you understand she’s just hiding her true feelings about the situation.

“That’s confidential.”

You scoff in disbelief and cross your arms.

“You do know that just makes it harder to trust you, right?”

Natasha mirrors your posture, her pretty grin still in place, masking any other emotions.

“Fair point,” she admits. “But to be honest, you should never put your trust in people like me anyway.”

“People like you?” 

“Spies,” Natasha clarifies as she begins to gather her empty plate and utensils. “Which is one of the types of people you’d be looking out for in this position. Their deception skills would be on a similar level to mine.”

You chuckle at that, causing Natasha to pause in her actions, raising a brow at you in question.

“Sorry, but everyone lies, whether you’re a spy or not,” you tell her, standing and taking the empty plate from her with a small smirk. “You’re just slightly better at it.”

A tiny offended look slips through Natasha’s expression at your little jab, her brow furrowing for a brief second.

Your grin widens at the sight of seeing a glimpse of her real self as you turn to place the dirty dishes in the sink.

Natasha quickly regains her composure, moving around the counter to lean back against the table next to you.

“In any case, the decision is still yours. I’ve already confirmed your abilities. It’s up to you to decide if you want to accept.”

At her words, you pause to consider your options. 

A new job working with the Avengers is a great opportunity, but it would be a significant change in your life. 

Then again, you’re already facing a huge change.

Your eyes unconsciously drift to the drawer next to where Natasha is leaning, where the wedding invitation draft remains, and your face twists in sadness at the memory. 

You guess it wouldn’t hurt to add a career change alongside your new relationship status.

At least this way you can still earn a salary while also distracting yourself from the depressing thoughts of your failed engagement. 

“Okay,” you decide, meeting Natasha’s gaze with a sigh, “I’ll take the job.”

“Great, I knew you would be agreeable,” Natasha remarks, extending her hand to you.

A red aura appears around her, causing you to huff and roll your eyes.

You take her hand in yours, giving her a tiny glare.

“Liar.”

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

“I don’t remember agreeing to this.”

You say that as you dodge another swing from Natasha, ducking under her arm to get behind her, only for her to twist her body around and deliver a kick that you narrowly block with your arms. 

Still, the impact has you stumbling back.

“Really?” Natasha asks with an innocent tone as she circles you. “I thought I mentioned to you that training was a part of your employment.”

A red aura begins to appear around her, but you don’t have time to comment before she swings her leg at you again. 

You catch it against your side with a small grunt of pain.

Having been a profiler for criminal cases before, you do have basic defense training, and you always believed that you could hold your own against most aggressors. 

At least you used to.

This current fight is making you reconsider your skills.

With her off-balance position, you attempt to throw her to the ground, but Natasha swiftly regains her footing, catching herself on her hands and executing a fluid movement to flip upright. She then bends low, sweeping your legs out from under you.

You land on the mat with a groan, feeling the impact reverberate through your body. Another pained breath escapes you as Natasha expertly pins you down.

You catch the faint red aura fading from her before throwing your head back against the mat with an exhausted sigh.

“You’re such a liar,” you breathe out, your voice tinged with both exhaustion and playful accusation. Closing your eyes, you take a moment to catch your breath.

Natasha's laughter fills the air, resonating above you, her amusement infectious and drawing a small grin from you. You peek open your eyes, watching as she disengages from atop you and heads over to her water bottle at the side.

“I’m a spy. It comes with the job,” she says casually, taking a sip.

“Okay, and I’m basically just HR,” you counter, pulling yourself upright into a sitting position. “So how does combat training fit into that?”

Natasha gestures towards you with a sweep of her hand.

“You need to be prepared to defend yourself if you ever expose someone dangerous and find yourself without backup,” she explains.

“That’s unlikely considering I haven’t even encountered anyone suspicious since I started,” you remark with a sigh.

It's been a month already, and you're starting to question if your presence here is even necessary.

Before you can dwell further on your thoughts, the cold touch of a metal water bottle against your cheek startles you.

Recoiling, you look up to see Natasha holding it out to you.

Raising a brow, Natasha waves the bottle lightly in offer.

You snatch the bottle from her with a tiny glare, but she only smirks in response.

Apart from the new job, the other surprising addition to your life is your budding friendship with the Avenger. 

After the whole recruiting ordeal, you honestly expected to only have passing encounters with her at the compound.

However, to your surprise, on your first day here, Natasha was the one who volunteered to give you a tour of the place, and in the days that followed, the two of you would often share coffee and chat before you had to head off to your respective jobs.

Those regular interactions with her also earned you a fearsome reputation among the other workers, which actually works out in your favor since they’re already nervous by the time you call them in for a review. This way they are more likely to slip up and reveal anything they may be hiding.

But, like you said, you haven’t found anything substantial yet.

With a heavy sigh, you pull your knees to your chest, resting your forehead against them, feeling the weight of failure bearing down on you.

Then you hear Natasha plop down beside you.

“Back when we met, you asked me why we needed you,” she begins.

Curious at her words, you turn your head slightly to glance at her, waiting for her explanation.

Natasha leans back on her hands, her gaze fixed on the ceiling as she continues to speak.

“A couple of months ago, our surveillance revealed that someone within the compound staff was plotting an attack during the opening ceremony of the new building. However, we couldn’t confirm who it was without risking exposing that we knew of their plan."

Your eyes widen in confusion at the revelation. From what you remember, the opening ceremony was a success. There hadn’t been any news of an attack that day.

“But you caught them, right?” you inquire.

“No,” Natasha responds, shaking her head before meeting your gaze. “You did.”

Surprised, you straighten up, giving her a questioning look.

Natasha offers a small smile, elaborating, “You had recently interviewed him as a suspect for another case, and in your notes, you labeled him as dangerous and untrustworthy, despite everything about him proving otherwise.”

“And you believed me?” you ask incredulously.

Natasha shrugs, “Well, I had no other leads at the time anyway.”

You scoff in exasperation at her teasing, playfully pushing her away.

She chuckles softly before adopting a more serious expression.

“Trust in your abilities, Y/n,” Natasha says with a genuine tone. “If it’s you, not finding anyone suspicious is a good thing.”

You watch her closely, waiting for the red aura to appear.

But as a couple of seconds pass and nothing changes, you tuck your forehead back against your knees, this time to hide the smile threatening to spread across your face.

“Alright, break’s over,” Natasha announces, giving your back an encouraging pat. “Let’s go again.”

You groan in reluctance, remaining in your curled-up position.

“Come on,” Natasha urges, her tone coaxing. “I’ll go easy on you this time.”

You don’t even need to look up to know the red aura is surrounding her.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

“What’s this?”

Natasha's voice draws your attention away from the task of pouring cooked popcorn into a bowl.

She's sitting on your sofa, examining a small, elegant card that you had accidentally left on the table.

Widening your eyes in realization of what she’s found, you hurry over to her, but her narrowed eyes tell you that she has already read the names on the card.

“She’s inviting you to her wedding?” Natasha exclaims, disbelief coloring her tone. “It’s only been a year since your breakup, and now she’s already getting married?!”

Sighing in disappointment, you had hoped to keep this information from Natasha, who developed a strong dislike for your ex after you shared the details of your breakup during one of your girls' nights.

Placing the bowl of popcorn on the table, you take the invitation from her hand and head to the kitchen, intending to tuck it away in a drawer. 

As you slide it open, you catch the sight of the old wedding draft buried at the bottom, which causes a tiny pang of sadness in your chest at the memory of that time, of how everything changed so suddenly.

You can't help but wonder how your life might have unfolded if your engagement hadn't ended.

Would you still have accepted Natasha's offer if you hadn't been seeking a distraction from your failed relationship? 

“You’re not thinking about going, are you?” Natasha's voice interrupts your thoughts. 

Glancing up, you notice a peculiar look in her eyes, though it quickly shifts to a neutral expression at your gaze.

After a whole year of spending time together, you could tell underneath her impassive expression that she was upset about something; though, you figured it was just outrage at the situation.

Tossing the invitation into the drawer and shutting it, you offer her a small reassuring smile before returning to your seat beside her to start the movie.

“No, of course not,” you tell her.

As the opening scenes play, you maintain a normal, nonchalant expression, aware of Natasha's gaze still lingering on you even as the red aura fades from around your body.

After a while, Natasha huffs in disbelief before finally settling into the sofa, pulling the bowl of popcorn into her lap.

“You better be sharing that, Romanoff,” you tease, your eyes fixed on the screen.

Natasha scoffs before tossing a piece of popcorn at you.

“Of course, I will.”

Just as you're about to turn your head to look at her and confirm her honesty, she swiftly shoves a cushion pillow to the side of your face, blocking your view.

After a few seconds, she releases it, fluffing the cushion casually before leaning her head against your shoulder and tossing another piece of popcorn into her mouth.

You chuckle at her antics, amused by her playful behavior, before returning your attention to the screen.

A few days later, you find yourself standing on the outskirts of the wedding area, observing as servers and workers hustle to complete the finishing touches.

A sad, bittersweet expression tugs at your lips as you recognize familiar details chosen by your ex, mingled with hints of a stranger’s preferences in the decorations.

To be honest, you don’t intend to stay for the wedding. You're just here to confirm something for yourself.

Taking a deep breath, you close your eyes, conjuring your ex’s face in your mind, and whisper to yourself. 

“I’m in love with her…”

Opening your eyes, you exhale slowly, a content smile on your lips as you notice the red aura surrounding your skin. It's a relief to be able to find closure regarding your feelings for your ex.

“You know, I don’t need powers to know you were lying,” a voice remarks from behind.

Startled, you turn to find Natasha approaching.

She stops beside you, her gaze fixed at the scene ahead as she accuses, “Saying that you weren’t going to come here.”

You look at her briefly before returning your attention to the field.

“I got curious about something,” you admit. “Figured that this was one way to confirm it.”

Excited and happy chatter fills the air as your ex appears, surrounded by friends and family.

Suddenly, thoughts of what-ifs from the other night resurface, prompting you to ask out loud unconsciously before you can stop yourself.

“Do you think I should’ve just pretended that she was telling the truth at that time — when she said she loved me?” you ask Natasha. “Maybe it might’ve worked out between us if I just kept my mouth shut.”

There’s a beat of silence before Natasha finally responds, her tone tinged with wistfulness.

“From my experience,” she begins, “I can tell you that living a lie would not make you happy…no matter how much you wish for it to be true.”

You chuckle lightly, “You’re probably right.”

“Of course I am,” Natasha says confidently.

A comfortable silence falls between you as you both observe the preparations from a distance.

“She is a fool for letting you go, though,” Natasha suddenly adds, her tone casual.

You laugh softly, gently chiding her, “You can’t call the bride that on her wedding day.”

“Alright then,” Natasha concedes, turning to you. “You’re an even bigger fool for coming here by yourself.”

She returns her gaze to the field, muttering under her breath with a hint of irritation, “…still visiting the one who broke your heart.”

Amused, you tilt your head to catch her eyes, chuckling at her words, as you tease, “You know, it almost sounds like you’re jealous.”

When Natasha doesn’t respond or look at you, you raise a brow in surprise and poke her side. 

“Wait, seriously, are you jealous?”

She swats your hand away.

“Stop that,” Natasha reprimands, before gritting out, “I’m not jealous!”

A small grin forms on your face as you notice the red aura appear, causing Natasha to roll her eyes and walk away.

“I’m leaving,” she declares firmly.

“Aww, come on, Natasha,” you call as you trail behind her.

Glancing back at you and seeing your pleased expression, she points at you in warning.

“That smile better be off your face by the time I pull up, or else you’re walking home,” she states before continuing on her way.

Watching her go with a fond smile, you find yourself softly repeating the words.

“I’m in love with her.”

Looking down, your smile widens when you don’t see the red aura appear, confirming what you already knew about your feelings for the red-haired spy.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

As you sit in your office at the Avenger compound, you feel a sense of fatigue wash over you at your busy schedule of back-to-back interviews.

Across from you, the final candidate squirms in her seat, clearly nervous under your scrutinizing gaze. 

A chill sweeps through the room, courtesy of the cold blast of air from the AC, and you can't help but regret your decision to have it set so cold, a choice originally intended to maintain an intimidating atmosphere during interviews. 

With a sigh, you reluctantly pull your hands from the cozy warmth of your hoodie pocket and turn to the next page of questions.

"Let's talk about handling confidential information," you begin, your voice cutting through the tension in the room. "Can you share a time when you had to ensure the secure handling of sensitive data?"

The candidate responds with some slight hesitation, but you sense it’s more from her nerves than any dishonesty, so you continue, moving on to the remaining questions.

Luckily, the rest of the interview goes by quickly and smoothly with her answering the other questions without any problems.

However, now comes the final question of the interview.

“Among the Avengers, who do you consider to be the hottest?”

Clearly caught off-guard, she stumbles over her words, “W-what?” 

Maintaining your serious demeanor, you repeat the question.

“Who do you believe is the hottest Avenger?”

After a moment's pause, she softly answers, “Black Widow..."

Setting your clipboard down, you extend your hand.

"Thank you for coming. It was nice meeting you," you say, signaling the end of the interview.

As she thanks you and leaves, you flip to the last paper on your clipboard, revealing a sheet with tick marks beside the names of your Avenger friends.

With an amused smile, you add another mark at the end of Natasha’s already leading line.

“I don’t think that last question was approved by Steve,” a voice accuses from the doorway.

Glancing up, you see Natasha leaning against the frame, her arms folded.

You shrug in response, “Makes it more interesting though.”

Natasha hums curiously before moving to your side, perching on the edge of your desk. Her narrowed eyes fix on you.

“Is that my hoodie?” she asks in suspicion as she tugs at your sleeve.

“Maybe,” you reply, hastily pulling the hood over your head to conceal your guilty eyes.

Natasha had left the piece of clothing at your place after her last visit, and given the chilly room, borrowing it seemed harmless enough.

“Don’t you have a briefing to get to?” you deflect, attempting to change the subject.

Natasha huffs knowingly before responding, "I had some spare time, so I came to bother you."

"I’m honored," you quip sarcastically, though inwardly your heart warmed at the fact that she thought of you.

Natasha chuckles lightly, then gestures towards your clipboard.

"Ask me some questions," she prompts, her tone playful yet eager.

Deciding to indulge her, you reach for your clipboard and adopt a serious demeanor.

“Name?” you begin.

Natasha shoots you a deadpan look, prompting you to show her the document with the question written on it.

“If they lie about their name, then that’s a red flag already,” you defend, giving her a pointed look.

“Natalie,” you mock.

Natasha chuckles, shaking her head at the memory before extending her hand.

“It’s actually Natasha,” she corrects, playing along.

Skipping past the other general questions, you delve into more targeted inquiries related to threat assessment.

“Have you ever been associated with any extremist or radical groups or organizations?” you ask.

“If you consider working undercover to gain intel on them, then yes,” Natasha responds without hesitation.

“Have you ever participated or been involved in any violent behavior where someone was hurt?”

This one makes her pause for a moment before she finally admits softly, "…yes."

As the questioning continues, Natasha's playful demeanor gradually fades, replaced by a rueful tone.

By the time you reach the final question, she places her hand on your clipboard, gently setting it down on the desk.

"Maybe these questions aren’t meant for people like me," she says sadly, her tone filled with regret.

Observing her disappointed expression, you scoot closer and rest your hand on hers to draw her attention.

“Do you still want to hear my final assessment?” you ask gently.

After a contemplative pause, Natasha nods, curiosity evident in her eyes as she gestures for you to continue.

“Well, based on your answers,” you say with a dramatic pause, flipping through the papers before shaking your head firmly.

“Absolutely not. Extremely dangerous. Definitely a high-risk candidate.”

Natasha huffs in disbelief at your teasing and gives you a playful push. As your laughter subsides, you soften your tone, meeting her gaze sincerely.

“But…I’d trust you,” you admit genuinely.

Natasha's eyes widen slightly before she averts her gaze, clearing her throat. Her fingers toy with the clipboard, flipping to the last page and seeing the score sheet, before chuckling in amusement.

Turning back to you, she tilts her head with a raised brow.

“I don’t get the special question?” she asks.

You take the clipboard from her, offering a knowing look as you begin to organize the documents on your desk.

“I think we both already know your answer to that question,” you reply.

“Then ask me another,” Natasha insists.

Her request makes you pause as you ponder what to ask. Only one thing comes to mind, the question you’ve been hesitating to ask her for a long time.

Meeting her expectant gaze, you find yourself wanting to know the answer, despite the fear in your mind at the possibility of causing another big change in your life again.

Summoning your courage, you face her directly.

“Would you…,” you start, faltering momentarily before gathering yourself with a deep breath.

“...would you say ‘yes’ if I asked you out on a date tonight?”

There's a moment of silence, and just as you consider retracting the question, Natasha reaches out and adjusts the hood atop your head.

Perplexed by her action, you watch her suspiciously. Then, in one swift motion, she pulls the hood down over your eyes, obscuring your vision.

“No,” her voice responds to your question.

Hearing her stand, you quickly remove the hood to see Natasha already making her way out of the door, but before she disappears from your view, you catch the red aura surrounding her slowly fading away.

As an excited smile spreads across your face at the revelation of her true answer, your phone on the desk pings with a new message. Glancing at the screen, you see a text from Natasha.

I’ll pick you up tonight. 

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Part 2

a/n: Thank you for reading! I know I said I was going to take a little break, but I had some time so I ended up finishing this and decided to post it now instead of later.

[foldingfittedsheets]

I’ve always been a pretty good liar. As an adult I’ve come to a moral place in which I don’t use that skill set unless it will explicitly benefit someone. But when I was a kid all bets were off.

I think tiny child me was doing their little autistic best but recognized that some situations would be best navigated by lying as telling the truth never netted positive results. Whether it was because my needs often went unmet or ignored, or because I didn’t see any reason not to lie if it would be more favorable, I’m not sure.

This is the story of my proudest lie. The best lie I ever did. A lie that looking back I still go, damn, I was eight.

Our story begins in second grade. I was eight. My school was having a book fair and I spent my small stipend on Gulliver’s Travels. No idea why. Lacking further funds I wandered the fair and came upon the greatest sight known to man. Frog erasers. They were so cute and I was extremely into animals of all kinds.

The whimsy. Who could have known they made erasers in such wonderful shapes? I mourned that I’d spent my money already, and played quietly with the little frogs in their bin. That’s when I was approached by a few other kids from my class.

I didn’t know most of them very well, but enough that it was civil when they asked me, “Are you going to buy those frogs?”

“I’d like to,” I admitted, “but I spent all my money.”

“Why don’t you steal them?”

“I thought about that, but I don’t have pockets.” Indeed, stealing had crossed my mind but it had been a brief temptation. I wasn’t even scandalized that the other girls suggested it.

“Caitlin has pockets,” the leader of the pack said. And indeed, Caitlin in her purple overalls did have pocket space for two frogs. So Caitlin and I became partners. My role in the escapade was just... wanting frogs and walking out with her. We stole two frogs, a yellow and a purple, and united by the misdeed we played together with them at recess despite not really being friendly prior.

After lunch I was called from class to the library. The principal herself was there waiting for me. She had a somber air, almost mournful that she needed to punish me. It was self evident to me that I was here for frog crimes. Caitlin had cracked and taken the fastest route to forgiveness- snitching on an accomplice. Despite the fact that my role was just: wanted frogs, I knew I was going to be in trouble.

Now, I could have told the truth. Pulled a Caitlin and ratted on the girl who told us to steal them. But clearly I’d still be in trouble for having gone along with the morally bereft plan. I was mad at Caitlin for telling but not enough to foist the onus back into her.

“Do you know why you’re here?” The principal asked kindly.

“Is it about the frogs?”

“Yes, Caitlin told us you stole the frogs.”

I quivered my lip and drew myself up indignantly. “I didn’t steal them!”

She blinked at my vehemence but since I looked near tears she carefully asked, “What happened?”

“I really wanted the frogs, but I didn’t have any money. So I asked the librarian if I could take them and bring the money tomorrow! But she was really busy and lots of people were talking to her, and she said yes! But maybe she was saying yes to someone else? And I thought it was to me but Caitlin didn’t, but I was going to bring money tomorrow!”

The principal. Was flummoxed. This was a situation in which I clearly thought I’d done no wrong, in which she couldn’t prove I had done anything wrong, and which the librarian would almost certainly not be able to weigh in. She regarded me not with suspicion but rather vaguely confused as to how to handle me.

I got off with a slight warning that I should pay for things before taking them, despite not having been the one to take things in the first place, and the frogs were confiscated.

I was vaguely worried they’d call my parents but years later when I admitted the story to my mom as an adult she laughed herself sick and said she’d never gotten a call.

[golden-cherry]

deal - cl16 (24/?)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.

Chapter Summary: Furniture shopping is more exciting when there's talks about buying new stuff - like a bed.

Warnings: 18+ (mentions of smut), fluff, Kika is the bestest friend on this planet

Word Count: 3.4k

series masterlist

previous part

A/N: hello loves! part twenty-four is here and I hope you enjoy it! feedback is appreciated!!!

The fact that Kika is just lying on your bed instead of snuggling up completely in your fluffy blanket is a miracle. 

"I liked the light blue mom jeans best," she says as you stand in front of the large mirror leaning against the wall next to the door to your room and look at yourself. "With the white oversized turtleneck - smash."

You look at her through the mirror. "Haha."

"I'm serious." She leans on her elbows and tilts her head. "If you wear white sneakers with it, it'll even work with the sandwich method. I've seen it on TikTok. And I swear to you - people will turn their heads to look at you."

"I don't want people turning their heads at me," you confess quietly, adjusting the soft fabric of your top. "I just want to look halfway okay."

"Trust me. You look more than okay."

After Kika and Pierre have stormed your apartment with their spare key - which at first annoyed you, but in the next moment made you feel quite relieved - your girlfriend has taken it upon herself to unpack your suitcase and pick out an outfit for you that matches your trip to the furniture store.

Unpacking your suitcase simply consisted of pulling out one item at a time and tossing it aside if it didn't meet her expectations. The pile of clothes next to the bed is the result of her search.

" Let it go," she warns you as you adjust the position of the hem of the sweater on your shoulder. "You look good. When I think about my first outfit as Pierre's girlfriend - it was pure horror."

"But I'm not a girlfriend," you reply as you reach for the jeans Kika is holding out to you. "I'm his friend. His roommate. Nothing more," you exhale, "and nothing less."

The Portugese woman watches you slip into your pants. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Caught off guard, you look at her. Are your feelings for the Monegasque so obvious that she can even see it on your face? Is your affection written all over your forehead? You can't name your emotional state, you can't say a word that could even begin to describe what you feel for Charles - but there's no question that it's definitely something other than pure friendship. 

No matter how often and vehemently you try to convince yourself that Charles is your friend, you are an incredibly bad liar. 

"I remember being incredibly nervous the first time we went out in public. I think I changed outfits three or four times before I was halfway happy."

Oh.

You sit down on the edge of the bed with her. "I want all of this. I want him." You clear your throat as Kika gives you a meaningful look. "His friendship, that is. And I'm also willing to take the risk of people not liking me and talking badly about me." You clasp your hands in your lap.

Kika sits up straight. "But?"

You curl your lips into a thin line. "I - I don't know." How do you explain to her that you're worried that his fans could dislike you so much that they doubt Charles? You're going public as friends, something that bothers you a little more than it should. But the Monegasque has also said that people will think what they want. 

What if they hate you so much - your looks, your mediocrity, your being - that Charles catches on and he realizes they're right in their opinion?

"I just want to make a good impression."

Your friend reaches for your hand. "You will. And after all, you're just friends. The public's opinion isn't all that important." You don't see her look, which says so much more than what she actually says.

"Right."

Kika lets go of your hand and stands up from the bed. "I'll be with you the whole time. We'll work it out. I promise." She tosses her long hair over her shoulder. "So, let's get going. This room is pretty bleak and could use some color," she says before pulling you off the bed and out of the room.

As you slip into your shoes at the front door, the men join you.

"So, Pierre and I are sitting -" Charles begins, but suddenly stops when he sees you. His eyes wander over your body and goose bumps spread along their path. He remains silent until Pierre nudges him. "Uhm, sorry. Yes. We - um - we're both going to sit in the front of the car because -" He scratches the back of his neck nervously, but can't take his eyes off you. "The plan is for Kika and you to go through the furniture store together and Pierre is coming with me. Just so that we are seen together as little as possible, but are still out and about together," he explains. 

You understand why this is all going to happen. He wants to protect you and you want to let him, but you can't stop your heart from getting a little bruised. 

When Kika notices your offended look, she crosses her arms in front of her chest. "So much planning for simple shopping with friends? Is that really necessary?"

As you look up from your shoes, you look straight into Charles' beautiful green eyes. Something that looks exactly like how you feel flickers across his face. "It is." He stands up straight. "Shall we?"

Kika smiles gently at you. "Let's liven this place up a bit, then." She grabs Pierre's hand and together the two of them walk out of the apartment towards the elevator, while Charles and you stay behind. You both look after them. 

"Is everything all right?" asks the Monegasque and stands next to you. 

"Everything's fine," you answer him curtly. You don't dare look at him. 

"Y/N," he says as he gently grasps your wrist and turns you towards him. "Mon amour, you know why I'm doing this, don't you?" His hand slips a little lower so your fingers can intertwine.

"'Mh-hmm." 

"Hey." His other hand rests gently against your cheek, making you look at him. "Hey." His thumb gently strokes your cheekbone. "I'm trying to protect you. That's my priority. Making sure you're okay is my priority. And if that means we can't walk through any stores next to each other for now, just so the public can get used to you, then I'll put up with it." His gaze twitches briefly to your mouth. "Even if it's not what I want."

You nuzzle your face against his warm hand. "And what do you want?" you ask softly. 

"You." 

His answer makes the blood sizzle in your veins. It feels as if the warmth of his skin is burning through your face, as if the nerve endings under your skin are sending little electric shocks through your muscles and forcing your heart to stop. You take a deep breath.

"I want you near me." He squeezes your hand twice before pulling away. Your skin feels cooler without his touch. "But I'm responsible for what happens in public. And I don't want to risk anything happening to you because of me."

You nod weakly before wordlessly following the befriended couple. You hear Charles behind you, but you don't wait for him as you walk quickly to the others. The atmosphere in the elevator is tense as you are transported towards the underground garage, but no one tries to ease the tension. Kika and Pierre look at each other a little uncertainly, something that doesn't escape your gaze, and you can't blame them. The situation is just awful.

Pierre has thought far ahead, because when he presses a button on his car key, a large SUV opens up in the underground parking garage, sure to fit some decorative items. Charles' Ferrari, or God forbid your old Renault, might have been able to fit a picture frame, or at most a small mirror. 

You sit behind Charles, who has taken a seat in the passenger seat. Kika and Pierre are talking through the rear-view mirror while you look out of the window.

The longer you think about what Charles said - or didn't say - the more uncomfortable you feel. The hem of the sweater seems to have slipped, the collar feels too tight and the sleeves are scratching your elbows. You're not sure what you were hoping for, what the right answer would have been. But you're not particularly happy with the one you got. 

You also want to be close to him, permanently. And you can also understand why the plan involves you staying away from each other inside the furniture store. But is that really necessary if you're just friends? Has he done something similar with his other female friends, or are you the only one who has to put up with this fuss? 

Your thoughts are going round and round in your head, but as if by magic they suddenly come to a standstill. But it's not magic, it's Charles' hand that has squeezed past his seat on the right and is now gripping your leg. You feel his fingers slide under the fabric of your jeans, where they rest against your calf. 

You try to regulate your breathing, but you can hear the blood pounding in your ears. Charles touching you is nothing new. You've been touching each other non-stop since last night, which doesn't help your feelings or your friendship, but it still feels indescribably good. 

It feels right the way his calloused hand wraps around your soft calf. It felt right the way his thumb stroked your cheek. It felt right to lie half-naked next to him in bed. 

It felt right to want him as something more. More than a roommate. More than a friend. 

And that's exactly why you slide your foot towards the car door, so that Charles can touch you more easily. You block out the voice that keeps whispering hypocrite to you as best you can. And the warmer his skin feels on yours, the tighter his fingers close around your calf, the better it works. 

"I'll let you both out right at the entrance and we'll park in the back of the parking lot," Pierre interrupts your thoughts before they're no longer PG. "You can go inside and we'll follow. That's the easiest way."

"Thank you very much," Charles says. "I'm sorry we're shamelessly taking advantage of you."

Pierre has to grin. "You're welcome to give me a position in Bahrain, then we'd be even."

"You'd have to get close to me on the track first."

The two men argue amicably until the car comes to a halt in front of the deserted entrance. Just as you are about to open the door, Charles's fingers gently squeeze your leg twice and you have to suppress a smile, otherwise Kika would tease you endlessly. As you both get out and the car drives away, she latches on to you. 

"Are you ready?" she asks as you walk towards the glass door together. 

"Definitely."

Kika has very good taste in decorating and if she hadn't become a model, she could definitely have worked at Ikea putting together those fake rooms. As you push a shopping cart in front of you, she skips through the aisles, grabbing anything that matches in color or style. Picture frames, vases, mirrors and fake plants that would look good on the windowsill in your room. 

She's examining which of the candles in front of her would go better with the vases in the shopping cart when your cell phone vibrates in your pocket. 

Charles: If one of the candles burns down our apartment, I'll have to charge you rent. 

Confused, you read the message before looking up and around. Charles is standing about twenty meters away from you, smiling at you over the shelves. You bite the inside of your cheek.

You: You don't need my money, Mr. Ferrari. After all, you make millions a year. 

You raise an eyebrow challengingly as Charles reads your message. You can see his grin clearly, even from this distance. 

Charles: If you burn down my expensive apartment, I'll have to find a new one, and they're not exactly cheap in Monaco, as you know. 

You: I thought it was our apartment?

Charles: If you let it burn down, you're welcome to keep it.

You: So you'd let me keep it? Our apartment?

Charles: I'd give you anything, mon amour. You just have to ask for it. 

You don't have time to think about his answer because Kika throws a stuffed animal dinosaur in your face. 

"Are you done flirting?" she asks, playing annoyed. "I'm trying to decorate your room and you'd rather flirt than help me."

You feel the blood rush to your face. "Excuse me?"

Her grin almost reaches your ears. "Gotcha."

"You can't possibly have caught me doing something I wasn't doing," you try to wriggle out of it, but Kika has bitten down like a little terrier.

"And why are you looking like you've eaten the last spoonful of tiramisu without asking if anyone else wants the rest?" 

"I haven't eaten any tiramisu," you defend yourself and hug the green stuffed animal tightly to your chest. 

"Not yet," she says gently and puts one of the candles in the cart with the rest. "But I'm afraid you could get diabetic if you're not careful with the tiramisu. A small piece is fine, but a double portion could almost be too much." 

You narrow your eyes. "I haven't eaten any tiramisu." Without taking your eyes off her, you put the green dino in the shopping cart too. "And I don't intend to."

"You're a bad liar," she says and stands next to you, wrapping her arms tightly around you. "But that's all right. I still love you. And when your room looks really cool soon, I'll take the outfit pictures for my Instagram in front of your mirror."

She gives you a peck on the cheek and you roll your eyes. "Charles was right. We need to change the locks, then you can't disturb us anymore."

"Disturb? Disturbing what? Eating tiramisu?" she grins and you would have loved to suffocate her with the green dino. Apparently Kika can read minds, because she quickly lets go of your arms and continues to skip happily through the corridors while you follow her with the shopping cart. 

"How much do you think the things you picked out for me cost?" you ask her as she picks out more plants.

She takes a look at the shopping cart. "Something between two hundred and five hundred euros," she replies with a shrug.

"Kika, that's too much. Way too much," you try to stop her as she walks over to the rugs on display. "I can't pay for it. I'm unemployed, remember?" You're about to turn the shopping cart around and return the selected items to their rightful places, but Kika stands in your way. 

"Charles offered to pay for this," she says, confused, resting her perfectly manicured hands on the metal grille of the cart. 

"He what?" you ask, looking around in the hope of spotting Charles somewhere. But he's nowhere to be seen.

"Pierre sent me a text message to leave the car at the checkouts when we're done. He said that Charles wanted to pay for it and that we should wait outside for them," she explains, tilting her head. "I thought he would have told you. I know you're unemployed, but because of the text message, I thought that - I assumed we could just pick out nice items without looking at the price."

You run your tongue over your teeth. "Give me a moment, please," you say briefly and leave her standing there with the shopping cart. 

You walk through every aisle, looking over every shelf in the hope of seeing Charles standing somewhere. And when, after ten minutes, you spot his brown curls in the furthest corner of the store, you don't care if the two of you are seen together. He's standing in front of a gray, hip-high box spring, with nice, dark bedding and comfortable-looking pillows placed on it. When you stop next to him, he doesn't look at you.

"I want to buy a new bed," he begins the conversation. "The one I have now is too low for me. What do you think of this one? I've tried it out. It's really comfortable and the perfect height for -" He falls silent before he can finish the sentence. 

"Kika says you want to pay for my things," you change the subject without answering his question. You don't take your eyes off the bed either. 

"That's correct."

"I don't want that," you say tersely. "I don't want you to pay for it."

"But I want to," he replies, looking at you out of the corner of his eye. "Think of it as a gift."

"As a gift?" You raise an eyebrow. "As a gift for what?"

"For your friendship."

"You can have my friendship without buying me new things," you assure him, but you fall on deaf ears. 

"But I want to. I have so much money that I can't spend on my own, so I want to buy you nice things." He leans a little towards you so that your hands touch. "How expensive are the things? One thousand, two thousand euros?"

"Kika says five hundred at most."

"Then think of it as a small, early Christmas present," he says gently. Before you can object, he continues. "I want you to feel comfortable and if it costs me some money, then so be it. And it won't hurt my bank account in the slightest. So just say thank you and accept the gift."

"Thank you," you whisper reluctantly, but you know that it wouldn't do any good to go against his wishes. "Did you find something you want to buy?"

He smiles. "This bed, apparently. And bedding. And a mirror."

"Doesn't sound bad. I just hope you have as good a taste as Kika. After all, our things have to match," you joke.

Charles turns his head in your direction. "Then lie down on the bed, mon amour. I'd like to see how you look on it before I spend thousands of euros on it." As he says it and his fingers curl around your wrist, that feeling blossoms in your chest again.

You want to throw him on the bed in front of you, kiss him until you can't breathe and touch him until you can see stars. You want to feel his warm skin under your fingertips, feel his muscles tense as he pulls you on top of him and presses you against his firm body. You want to feel his weight on you as he lays you down on the bed and his lips trail down from your mouth. You want to - 

"Do you really think I'm going to try sleeping without you again when we've figured out that we both sleep better when we're together?" he asks, gently stroking the thin skin on your wrist with his thumb. You hope he can't feel your racing pulse underneath. "When we first met, you said that you hadn't had a decent night's sleep in a long time. And if it means I have to hold you in my arms so you can get a good night's sleep, then so be it. And it's not as if I don't enjoy having you close to me."

Before you can answer him, you feel a person standing at your other side and when you look, Kika is standing there. Her gaze flickers briefly to your hands before she turns to the bed as well. "Do any of you fancy a bite to eat?" she asks. "There's a restaurant nearby that serves incredibly good tiramisu. And it's never busy. We can go there if you like." She turns slightly in your direction and nudges you. "What about you? Do you want some tiramisu?"

More like a need than a want.

[mattyriddlesbitch]

could you please do one where theo nott boasts about his hickeys from us to his mates and then we hear him and drag him upstairs and he goes all subby :)) btw love ur posts!!!

I would dieeee if you wrote about a needy Theo who is eating the reader out and he enjoys it so much he finishes without even being touched. I love when he’s subby

I combined these two asks, so I hope you guys like it!

Liar

Theodore Nott x F!Reader

Warnings: Cussing, oral(female receiving), shoe humping

18+ Minors DNI!

You had just entered the Slytherin common room when you heard Theo’s friend teasing him about the hickeys, but instead of getting flustered, he bragged about it.

“Yeah, I made my girl feel so good, she couldn’t contain herself. Needed to leave her mark.” Theo said with a smug smile.

That’s not what you recall, though. You recall teasing him by kissing and biting his neck until he begged to fuck you.

So you came up behind him and wrapped your arms around him sweetly. “Oh, I don’t think it went that way.” 

Theo looked at you with wide eyes, surprised you were there and that you were about to call him out. “Ah, doesn’t matter.” He tried waving off your statement dismissively.

“It doesn’t? But you’re bragging about it, love. It apparently does.” You smile at him.

His friends were laughing. “Stop.” He whispered to you.

“Upstairs. Now.” You whispered back to him and he didn’t even hesitate before letting you pull him to his dorm.

You closed the door and crossed your arms. “So, you think it’s okay to lie about me now?”

“You know how the guys are.” He tried shrugging it off.

“Do I need to remind you of last night? Of how I had you begging?”

He swallowed, his eyes looking down. “I could use a reminder.”

You rolled your eyes and sat down on the edge of the bed. “You want me to make you feel good after what you just pulled?”

“I’m sorry, cara mia.” He said, kneeling in front of you.

“Doesn’t sound sincere.” You tsked.

“Please, bella, I’m sorry, I won’t lie again.” He started rubbing at your thighs.

“If you want me to make you feel good, beg.”

“Please, please, make me feel good, principessa.”

“You can use my shoe. I’m not doing any work after what you pulled.” You said, leaning back on your hands.

His eyes widened, clearly not expecting that answer.

“Go on. Give yourself some relief.” You tilted your head expectantly.

He looked humiliated but moved to rub himself against the toe of your shoe, whimpering at the contact.

“Needy boy, willing to get yourself off with just my shoe. If only your friends knew.” You say mockingly.

“Please let me fuck you, cara mia. I’ll do everything. Make you feel good.” He begged, a moan escaping his lips as he kept humping your shoe.

“I don’t know. Gonna make me feel so good, I can’t contain myself?” You asked, using his words against him.

“I’ll make you feel so good, please.” He said, pressing kisses to your thigh.

“You can eat me out.” You said, spreading your legs for him. “But you can’t touch yourself.”

“Deal.” He said, wasting no time in nearly tearing off your panties. He buried his face between your thighs, licking at your cunt eagerly as he wrapped his arms around your thighs.

“Fuck. That desperate, baby?” You teased, tangling a hand in his hair.

He just moaned into you.

“You’re so fucking good at this, Theo. You like pleasing me?” You asked, tugging his hair gently and he looked up at you.

“Fucking love it.” He replied quickly before going back to licking at your clit.

“Better use of your mouth than lying about me, right?” You smiled at him and he nodded, sucking at your clit.

He kept licking and sucking, desperately trying to get you off, his own moans and groans nearly overpowering yours. You came with a cry of his name and some curses, body trembling as he helped ride it out. He pulled back and pressed kisses to your thighs to help calm you.

“Fuck. You still want me to make you feel good, baby?” You asked, cupping his cheek.

“No need.” He said, smiling a bit sheepishly.

“What do you mean?” You asked curiously.

“I might’ve…already…” He looked down and you followed his eyes.

“Oh.” You said once you saw the wet patch on his pants. “Just from giving me head?” You smiled.

“Yes?” He answered but in more of a question.

“I love the power I have over you.”

Taglist:

@jeannie-beannie @yourenogoodforme @mixvchelle @helendeath @evaslytherpuff

@ireallyneed-somesleep @soaked4abby @hpnsfwaddict @mayamonroem @motherfing-stargirl

@dracoslovergirl @littlemadamred

Let me know if you wanna be added!

[disneyprincemuke]

mrs all american * archived.

who is that guy in the andretti racing garage?

pairings: bother figures x fem!driver, 4lyfers x fem!driver

notes: lOLSIE OXOXOXOOXOOXOXO tell me if u want their smau too?? hehehehe

(series masterlist) | (📂 the sophomore year)

alex tilts his head, approaching his friends gathered right behind a crowd that’s formed in front of one of the racing hospitalities in the paddocks. “what are we doing here?”

“same sentiments,” george mutters, craning his neck to try and look over heads to see what’s all the commotion about. him and lando had been having a chat while walking in from lunch when they were greeted by a large crowd gathered and chatter filling up the air. “we’re just as curious as you.”

“but you lot were here first?” alex asks, scrunching his nose again, looking between his friends. “did andretti manage to score some big name or something for the weekend?”

“brad pitt, you reckon?” lando asks, raising his eyebrows. “nah, i don’t think so. has to be someone else.”

“maybe it’s just rocky causing terror to everyone again.”

george and lando exchange a stare and ultimately shrug with a nod. it’s not entirely impossible that it’s not the brand’s own driver who’s gathered a big crowd to watch her do something stupid.

“hey, why are there so many damn people? i just wanna take a nap before the parade.” the 3 turn around, shocked at the presence that’s announced itself behind them. the andretti racing driver stands in front of them, hands on the straps of her backpack as she looks at them curiously. they furrow their eyebrows. “what?”

“you’re not the one that’s causing all the commotion?” george tilts his head, pointing at the crowd of cameras and paparazzi behind them.

she shrugs. “i guess not. what’s going on?”

alex sighs, widening his eyes. “we have got no idea. we’re just nosey,” he takes a sip from his drink, “will you tell us when you find out later?”

she shrugs nonchalantly with a small smile. “sure. i’ll see you lads later for the parade.”

“are you hiding someone from me?” the girl, who’s just walked into the pitlane to head to the grid for the driver’s parade takes a step back with a clueless blink. “max keeps pestering me about the guest for tonight.”

she shrugs, eyebrows furrowed. “why do you just assume i always know more than you?”

liam shrugs as well, frowning. “i don’t know. there’s just so much commotion on our side of the paddocks today and i’ve got no clue as to why,” liam says with a frown.

realistically, she feels bad lying straight through her teeth to everyone. but she doesn’t need anyone messing with her when the truth happens to come out before the race starts. it’s just not something she thinks she needs.

besides, everybody will find out after the race. she will just explain herself then.

“i’ve got no idea what’s going on with our garage today,” she takes a sip from her pepsi, blinking at liam innocently. “guess we’ll find out later?”

“find what out?” oscar tilts his head as they come to a stop right by him and lando, waiting for the truck to start their lap around the track.

“why we’ve been so crowded with paps today,” liam frowns. “i’m not the centre of attention and it’s simply absurd.”

lando sighs, shaking his head. “i know. i’ve barely seen a camera pointed my way today and it’s our grand prix race. something is not right.”

she shrugs with a small grin. “someone kinda famous, i guess.”

“it’s not jacob elordi again, is it?” carlos pokes his head between lando’s and hers, furrowing his eyebrows. he turns to her, met with an unamused stare and head tilt. he shrugs. “just curious. who knows if you’re seeing him again?”

she looks around their huddle, suddenly greeted by curious stares and raised eyebrows. she throws her arms in the air and shakes her head. “i’m not seeing jacob again! i haven’t seen him since the miami race last year! please let it go!”

alex narrows his eyes down with a small smirk. “you sound like you know something about andretti’s special guest.”

“you liar!” liam screams.

“i don’t!” she turns to liam with her arms in the air. she turns to alex and scowls. “why are you stirring drama? i don’t know anything about who andretti’s decided to give their stupid pass to this weekend, okay?”

alex hums, pressing his lips together. “that’s not what logan told me.”

“why would logan know anything about andretti’s guest this weekend? i’ve barely seen him.”

he shrugs, “i really thought that would break you.”

“nice try,” oscar sighs, shaking his head. “you really don’t know anything?”

she shakes her head. “i really don’t. now can we please talk about something else?”

“i’ll see you later after the race?” a soft, familiar, higher-pitched voice says. “don’t forget to watch me, okay? remember: i’m in the andretti car. don’t watch the red bulls or the ferraris, just me. you’re here for me.”

liam presses his ear against the door as if he could somehow make out who’s speaking to whom inside the room.

you can only imagine his shock when he hears a man’s voice from the other side of the door. “suddenly i’m an andretti supporter. i don’t even like ferrari.”

he hears her laugh, followed by footsteps approaching the door. “i’ll see you later, my. love you.”

the door clicks, prompting liam to hurl himself towards the stairs leading downstairs, stumbling and sliding down a couple of steps. liam pulls himself up with the railing, trying to ignore the way he can hear the confusion as the door closes.

“what are you doing?”

liam hops up to his feet, one of his foot sliding off at the edge of the steps. he coughs to cover it up and shakes his head. “i’m just super excited to be racing in vegas.”

she tilts her head and furrows her eyebrows. “are you sure? is something wrong?”

he shakes his head. “nope. nothing.”

perhaps she will break the news to him after the race? he doesn’t think he’s ever heard her say that phrase to anyone, much less know anyone called ‘my’.

“you don’t have anything to ask me?” she bites down on her lip, trying to keep the laugh in.

truthfully, she had heard the door rattle a couple of times and assumed that liam was being nosey outside her driver’s room. she’s more surprised that her teammate is not probing her for a more defined answer other than a shrug.

“i guess,” liam shrugs dejectedly.

he just wants her to tell him instead of having to ask her outright.

“alright, mate,” she laughs, furrowing her eyebrows. “by the way, you’re coming for ice cream tonight, right? i’ve got someone i want you to meet.”

another podium finish. it’s absolutely nothing to do with the fact that she’s got a special guest in her garage watching, the car was just good.

she knows that because liam’s finished directly behind her. she would have given him the podium if sebastian hadn’t insisted that there’s jo driver swap necessary and that it would only be riskier to do so.

she climbs out of the car, eyes crinkled towards the team gathered behind the barriers for her. she tears all of her headgear off and immediately runs forward to where her team is gathered.

“amazing!” sebastian screams, arms wide open as she approaches them. “good job, kid!”

she screeches, hopping over to where they are with her fists in the air. “i know! i literally love vegas! year after year, all vegas gives me is bangers!”

she jumps into sebastian’s arms, cheering along with her team of mechanics with their arms wrapped around her as well. “yay! another podium for me! suck it, oscar!”

“oscar catching strays,” liam mutters, tapping her on the shoulder and holding his arms out to her. throwing his arms around her, he sighs exasperatedly while a smile. “i know you had someone in your room earlier.”

“i know. you rattled the door with all your moving,” she whispers back before pulling away. she drops her head slightly as a blush slowly creeps up her cheeks. “i’m seeing somebody.”

“i also know that,” liam grins, a hand still on the small of her back. “do i get to meet him?”

“obviously. do you know how difficult it’s been to keep him out of your sight all day?” she snorts, rolling her eyes. “i promise you’ll get to meet him.”

“if i didn’t know you were a good driver, i’d have thought you made it to the podium just to impress me.”

“it’s just luck, i guess.” she grins giddily leaning in as he holds both hands up, grabbing her cheeks. “thanks for coming to watch my race.”

“absolutely. thank you so much for inviting me over.”

she scrunches her nose, hands lifted slightly behind her as she leans in with puckered lips. she’s turning 22 in a couple of weeks and the fact that this is her first public relationship ever is still new to her.

truthfully, she wasn’t even planning on dating any time soon. she’s gone 5 years — almost her entire life — not finding herself with a boyfriend, what harm would it do if she went on longer without one?

but she coincidentally found herself laughing a little too hard at his jokes and now here she is, lip locked in her garage with some guy she swore annoyed her.

“ew!”

“fuck off!” she says immediately, pulling away and whirling around with red cheeks. her hair is dishevelled, stray hairs on her face and cheeks getting redder by the second. “what are you, 12?”

max raises his eyebrows with an amused smile stretching his lips. he tilts his head to the side and ignores the driver in front of him. “who’s this? i’m max,” he holds his arm out, “i can fight.”

“max!” she shrieks, pushing max’s arm away before it can be grabbed cordially. “what is wrong with you? that’s not how you introduce yourself!”

but as she’s preoccupied with max, to her horror, she’s turned back around and the other 3 have already surrounded the poor boy with furrowed eyebrows and questions spilling on their lips.

who are you, where do you live, what’s your intentions with rocky, how long have you known her? and this is exactly why she hesitated even bringing him to the race to watch her.

“hey, what are you doing? stop doing that!” she cries, running back around to try and shoo off alex, george and lando who have well invaded her boyfriend’s personal space. before she can take 3 steps away, max grabs her shoulder and yanks her back toward him to hold her in place. “you guys are embarrassing me! you’re worse than my siblings!”

“oh, you’ve met her siblings!” alex cheers for a moment before wiping the smile from his face. “so? what are they gonna do to protect you? they’re so much younger.”

“hey! those are my sisters and brother you’re talking about!”

“ah, you get what i mean,” alex waves her off, snorting softly. he returns his attention to the boy with a small amused grin. “so? you plan on answering our questions, mate? we’ll be here all night if you don’t.”

the brunette grins. “i’m milo manheim, i’m an actor. i’m,” a blush creeps up his cheek as he bites back a smile and points over at the girl still in her race suit, “she’s my girlfriend.”

“girlfriend?” lando screams incredulously, throwing his head back in disbelief. he turns to the girl and points at milo. “you found yourself a boyfriend? did you use our advice?”

she stares at them, blinking with a toothy and fearful grin. “why… would i use your shit advice?”

“hey, what are you– oh, hey! you look–” oscar cuts himself off with a loud laugh before turning to his best friend, “oh, you little sneaky shit! no wonder you’ve been keeping your mouth shut the entire evening! it’s the guy you h–“

“guys!” she throws her arms in the air. “give me a break, please! at least let me sp–”

“how long have you guys been dating?”

“dating?” oscar asks loudly, blinking rapidly. all this is new to him. she’s always been pretty secretive and private about her dating life, so it’s not a shock that everything is only unveiling now for her.

“have you made her cry yet? every tear is one punch i get to throw without you running off to the media crying about it, kid,” max says firmly, shoving her aside so that he could take a step forward towards milo.

“max! he has not–”

the younger boy grins and puffs his chest proudly. “of course not! we’ve been going out for a couple of months, around 5 or 6?”

“wow!” george cheers, turning to her in amusement. “that’s long! you kept a secret that long?”

she shrugs. “lily knew.”

“lily knew?” oscar screams, arm darting out to punch her shoulder. “why didn’t you tell me?”

“because then you’d tell logan and lando, and then it wouldn’t be a secret anymore,” she explains, throwing her arms in the air with a knowing stare. “i don’t see the problem, really. mick knew too.”

“mick found out before me?” george shouts. “unfair!”

she shrugs again. “he saw us at the hotel lobby last night.”

“why are there so many people in my garage?” sebastian walks in, tapping his phone against his palm. “hi, milo.” he looks at the crowd of excess drivers in his garage and lifts his hands in the air to continue his interrogation. “anyone plan on answering me?”

“we’re having a meeting,” lando answers, not even sparing the older man a glance. he keeps his stare on milo. “so how did you meet?”

“we met at the eras tour in the private tent!” oscar cuts in with an amused stare. he blinks. “i gotta find logan and tell him.”

“tell me what?”

she throws her arms in the air. “did you guys agree to come to my garage after my podium just to piss me off or something?” she shouts, hands balled into fists and she stomps a foot into the ground. “what is everyone doing here? why are we having a gathering?”

“i was gonna congratulate you on the podium,” logan mutters. he trails off as he meets the familiar pair of brown eyes, the only person in their makeshift circle not in a race suit, and tilts his head. “what are you doing here? don’t i know you from somewhere?”

a silence falls in the garage, the chatter from outside the only thing that anyone can hear. max and alex share a look, then glances over at george who lifts his eyebrows with a shrug.

milo blinks. “i’m–“

“rocky’s boyfriend!” lando cheers, holding milo’s shoulder and pointing excitedly at the young boy next to him. “you didn’t know?”

“nobody knew,” she grins, explaining through gritted teeth. “except seb. cause he’s the one that let this happen.”

“rat!” max screams, whirling around to sebastian. “you said you knew nothing about who andretti’s guest is!”

“i was sworn to secrecy if not i might wake up bald tomorrow!” sebastian suddenly screams in defensive. “i don’t wanna be bald! don’t you think i haven’t thought of telling anyone?”

logan grins, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion. “i didn’t know you guys were talking.”

logan scratches his elbow as he turns to oscar, tilting his head and pointing between her and milo as if to ask if he’d known about it. in return, oscar shrugs.

“wait,” max shakes his head. “this is actually a thing? you guys are actually boyfriend and girlfriend? like it’s official?”

her and milo share a look. she turns to max and nods. “yeah?”

“you hesitated,” george points out. “why did you hesitate?”

heads turn to one of the men in papaya, a giggle bubbling from his stomach as he points between them. “i see what’s going on — you haven’t talked about it, have you?”

“what?” she sputters, rolling her eyes. “that is absolutely none of your business.”

oscar giggles. “but we’re right, aren’t we?”

george throws his hands in the air. “guys, leave them alone. this is seriously none of our business.”

“but i wanna know!” max whines, stomping towards milo. “how did you guys meet?”

“eras tour,” milo grins widely. “then she went home and stalked me — liked my picture from like 2021.”

“no, i didn’t!” she shrieks, hands coming up to shield her flushed cheeks away from everyone in the room. she runs over to milo and starts to push him towards the doors that lead to the paddocks. “don’t tell people i did that!”

“oh, that’s so embarrassing!” oscar tugs at his hair then hunches over as he no longer can contain his laughter. “rocky, no!”

she scratches her head and darts back towards oscar. “oscar!”

“she didn’t like me very much at first,” milo points out, grinning at her.

“oh, we know,” logan grins, folding his arms over his chest. he glances at the girl cowered next to sebastian, forehead resting on her race engineer’s arm with her hands still cupped over her cheeks then looks at everybody else. “she told us how annoying you were for like 20 minutes after the concert.”

she sighs and just drops herself into squat. “yeah, whatever.”

“mate!” liam grins, pushing the door open of their hospitality home. “i’m liam! it’s so nice to finally meet you.”

he says that as if he hadn’t just found out of his existence literally 2 hours ago.

“aw, absolutely, man,” milo grins, taking the hand that offered to him. “she talks about you all the time.”

“yeah, how fucking irritating he is,” she scoffs, throwing her head back. she steps forward and breaks their hands apart from one another, quickly wrapping her hand around milo’s arm. “let’s go for drinks!”

“really? drinking in vegas?” liam snorts, raising his eyebrow at her. “shouldn’t you have learned your lesson by now?”

“what lesson?” mick hums, appearing behind them. “drinks, right? celebrate rocky’s podium or something?”

“your lesson? what did you do in vegas that’s naughty?” milo teases, furrowing his eyebrows and looking down at her. “you did something stupid, didn’t you?”

she blinks. “yeah, i almost got married in vegas this time last year.”

“married?” milo repeats with a laugh. “to whom? and what do you mean almost? it didn’t happen?”

mick sighs. “we were bested by sebastian — a lesson about drinking too much or something like that. we still engage in black out drinking though.”

the girl cheers with a soft laugh, holding a hand up and immediately receives a high-5 from the older driver.

milo laughs, wrapping an arm around her. “that’s actually kinda funny.” he looks at mick, already well acquainted from their impromptu supper in their hotel room the night before. “she is my girlfriend now though, so…”

liam scowls, looking between the 3 of them. “you guys just made it super weird.”

— bonus

“you seriously didn’t know?” oscar blinks, starting to walk away from the williams racing home alongside his friend and girlfriend, towards the exit of the paddocks to meet their friends. “you guys have been acting so weird lately.”

logan shrugs. “i bet ylona knew. they’ve been hanging out a lot lately.”

lily grins, peeking from oscar’s side to look at logan. “she does. rocky told us she was seeing somebody after they first kissed that one time in new york 2 months ago.”

“2 months ago,” logan puffs his cheeks out and shakes his head, “wow. good for her, honestly.”

“yeah,” oscar hums, “you’d think that she’d actually end up that crazy cat lady if she never finds a decent man.”

lily laughs, squeezing oscar’s arm. “we’ve hung out with him a cou–“

“you what?” oscar scowls, taking a step away from her. “what’s with all the secrecy? are you even my girlfriend anymore?”

“you say ‘we’,” logan huffs. “you’re telling me you guys reeled ylona in without either of us knowing?” lily nods. “assholes!”

taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mindless-rock @vellicora @leilanixx @ironmaiden1313 @angsthology @cherry-piee @christianpulisic10 @elliegrey2803 @33-81 @darleneslane @nikfigueiredo @happy-nico @namgification @localwhoore @notawc @sadg3 @kazuha-pista-badam @mellowarcadefun @megatrilss1885 @peqch-pie @woozarts @meadhbhcavanagh @2bormaybenot @a-disturbing-self-reflection @inejismywife @love4lando @louvrepool

[stargirlstabber]

obedient little bitch

featuring. alpha!konig x omega!reader x alpha!ghost

cw. !smut; mdni! a/b/o dynamics, oral (m! giving and recieving), throat fucking, breeding, cockwarming , threesome, stomach bulge, a little dub-con, face sitting, a bit thigh riding, fingering

a/n. i present you a masterpiece which was written by my bestie, who doesn't have a tumblr acc ^^ copy/pasted it and did some changes. credit goes to my lil pookie baby :3

~Ghost POV~

It was just another day like many. Get up, eat, patrols and missions, repeat. Boring and draining until I walked down the halls with a college of mine ,Konig. Despite us both being alphas we got along...well most of the time.

Most of us here were alphas ,we had an omega here a year ago as far as I remember but he died on the battle field. To no ones surpise being honest.

Walking down into our quarters, it felt like every nerve in my body was suddenly on edge ,I looked over at my friend. I could only see his pupils delate and the way he was beginning to sweat under his balaclava before both of us knew exactly what drove us wild...only a sweet and innocent little omega in fresh heat could cause something like this.

Neither of us wasted any time to follow that sweet ,sweet scent of pheromones in the air. To our suprise, the alluring smell brought us right to our room. So our little cadet was indeed just an omega that hid herself from us what a naughty ,naughty girl...

Quickly bursting into the door we already saw her on the bed ,panting ,sweating ,curled up on her bed with a nest built of our clothing. I could already smell that sweet cunt calling for me.

Before I even registered it ,Konig had ripped off his balaclava ,barley able to contain himself from pouncing on this sweet little thing. I would be lying if I said I didnt want to sink my teeth into that delicate little neck.

Smirking ,the both of us hungrily walked over to her. The fear yet begging to be knotted in her eyes was all we needed to know. Neither of us had to say a word before that obedient little bitch in heat rolled onto her back ,exposing that cute tummy.. which soon will bulge with cum...from us.

"Please- I.." ,she panted ,begging softly , "I don't know what's going on.." "A first time heater hm?.." ,Konig chuckled darkly ,the thrive to ruin that innocent litte slut was written all over his face.

She nod pathetically ,whining softly for us. My friend was the first to climb onto the bed with her ,quickly getting rid of his ,either way ,sweaty shirt. I could hear him growling before he went down on her. Grabbing her by the legs and dragging her towards him ,pulling her onto his lap. And fuck would I be a liar if this didn't turn me on ,but I decided to be patient for now ,sitting down on the edge of the bed while slowly palming my already hard cock through my pants.

Konig on the other hand wasn't patient ,he quickly got to work and pulled off her shirt ,as she wrapped her delicate arms around his neck he began to grope those perfect breasts. Not to big ,not to small ,perfectly fitting into the palm. And shit ,it almost made me cum on the spot when I heard her moan and his silent groan fill the air.

"I bet those nipples are begging to get sucked hm?... Little Omegas like you are always so sensitive in their heat.." ,he chuckled before unclipping her bra ,throwing it off to the side. Damn was it a sight to see those perfect tits bounce slightly, begging to be sucked. And rather quickly was their wish acknowledged as I heard Konigs slurps fill the air. Watching her arch ,throw her head back and whimper as her hands tangeled into his hair.

It was to much. Even if I wanted to be patient I simply had to ,pulling down my pants and slowly teasing my sensitive tip with my thumb. My friend on the other hand rolled her sensitive nipples between his fingers ,pulling and pinching them, earning moan after moan from that eager little omega.

Mindlessly, she began to grind her hips along his tigh. "That sweet little pussy must be begging for friction." ,I tought to myself. "Yeah ,you like riding my thigh?" ,Konig groaned ,flexing his thigh before grabbing her hips , controlling the pace as he slowly dragged that delicious cunt along his thigh. It was one hell of a show to see these two get all hot and bothered. Like a real time porn, but better of course, and I was defenetily not complaining.

Watching my friend drag his tounge between her tits before sucking on one of those nipples ,hell ,what would I give to suck on those breasts. I heard him groan as he moved his hand down ,his thumb finding her sweet little clit. Rubbing tight circles into the sensitive nerve bundle ,adding to the sensation of her slick folds dragging along his thigh.

This was simply to much , I wasn't able to control myself any longer. I had to get a taste of that sweet wetness. "Move man." ,I growled under my breath as I stomped over, snatching that sweet omega from his lap and throwing her onto the bed and ripping off any remaining clothes that could get between me and my meal. "Damn ,someone's hungry" ,Konig snickered. His voice thick with lust and desire.

It was his time to wait and watch while I had my fun. She looked all shy ,rubbing those soft thighs together in desperate need of friction. Laying down on my back I pulled her on top of me ,my hands locking around her thighs as I pulled her dripping cunt to my face ,yet she pulled back ,hesitating.

"I'll suffocate you..." ,that sweet thing mumbled nervously. "Even if you do ,that horny slut would die a happy man ,now sit down." ,Konig demanded while pushing her hips down. I felt her weight on me ,yet it didn't bother me. She earned herself a groan once I let my tongue run through her folds and those plush thighs locked around my head.

I was eating that sweet pussy like a starved man ,lapping between her entrance and that soft clit ,licking ,teasing ,sucking those sensitive sweet spots. I couldn't see ,but I felt her arching her back ,moaning and crying my name while her delicate fingers ran through my hair. It felt like she tried to shove my face deeper into that sweetness and let me tell you ,I was surely not gonna complain.

"Fuck- you taste so damn good.." ,I rasped ,getting lost in the moment before I felt someone grab onto my exposed dick ,slowly dragging their hand along my shaft. I mindlessly bucked my hips up into the delicious friction until something clicked.

This wasn't this sweet omegas hand ,the hand felt way to rough and big for that ,her hands were still tangled in my hair anyway. And once I heard that motherfucker groan ,I knew it. "Konig-!" ,I snarled. That bitch only chuckled in response. "Relax..keep licking that cunt clean while I work on some...business" ,he snickered before my eyes almost rolled back. The sensation of his warm mouth greedily welcoming my tip ,his lips wrapping around my length ,swallowing inch after inch ,painfully slow.

I never tought I was intrested in men but damn was that tall-ass good at sucking cock. While Konig seemed to be enjoying his meal, I was enjoying mine. Meanwhile my hands got to work too ,two of my fingers finding their way into that little pussy ,rubbing and stimulating her g-spot, while sucking on her clit did wonders and slowly worked that tightness open.

Heavy slurps filled the room as Konig had managed to swallow all of me ,his tongue massaging the underside of my shaft ,bobbing his head up and down as his hand gently squeezed and played with my balls. Shit-..I knew my family jewelery was sensitive but fuck, Konig took it to a whole other level.

That cocky fuck has been edging me for a while now ,no matter how much I bucked my hips he would always stop sucking last second. "Shove his fucking head down-!" ,I snarled between licking those tasty juices.

And ta-da. My obedient princess obeyed in no time ,grabbing onto Konigs head and shoving it down ,all the way till his nose touched my pubic bone.He gagged loudly ,his pretty throat tightening around my thick shaft. Fuck ,I could've came right on the spot. What little pleasure can do to a women ,mindlessly obeying commands. Either way ,I was just as eager to taste her cum so I let my fingers work quicker.

"I'm gonna- Simon please ,please-! I'm gon-!" ,she cried out. And before she could even finish her sentence I felt her walls almost crush my fingers. Her juices flew out of her and right onto my eager tongue. I quickly swallowed up all of her sweet juices.

Konig in the meantime continued to slurp around my shaft ,I could feel his saliva dripping down between my legs. I don't even care to be honest ,spit running out of his mouth and all over me. With a finally squeeze of my balls ,I came ,harder than I expected.Konig groaned and gagged around my twitching cock as ropes of warm white cum slowly ran down his throat. And before I had to even say a word ,he swallowed.

That sweet omega was panting ,almost limp as she barley had the strength to keep herself upright. And once Konig released my shaft I settled her down on the bed. "Let her head hang of the bed." ,my friend rasped with a smug grin. And so I did. Moving her either way limp body so her head hung off the bed slightly.

I didn't care what Konig had planned. What I cared for was this pussy. Grabbing her thighs and spreading them pretty once more as I grabbed my dick ,slowly teasing my tip around her entrance. That sweet yelp was all I needed to know before I slid the tip in. That slut was so wet it slid in like butter. Her thighs trembeled in my hands as I slowly inserted inch after inch.She arched her back of the bed ,panting like a dog while her eyes rolled back.

"Cute slut.." ,Konig cooed before rubbing his tip with pre over her lips. "Now say ah~..." obediently ,she opened her mouth ,placing her hands against his thighs before letting him stuff his dick into her mouth like some cheap whore. She gagged ,yet I heard her submissively slurp and suck his cock. And taking by the way he groaned and bucked his hips, Konig loved it.

Those tight walls wrapped around me- fuck I felt like a virgin again ,getting pussy for the first time was nothing compared to this hot ,tight little cunt. She had adjusted enough in my eyes before I began to gently pull out and slam back in. Her whole body rocked forward ,and watching those tits bounce? Incredible. My hand moved between our connected bodies to rub her clit. My goal was to leave a mark on that body. My dick reaching depths she probably didn't know existed.

Fucked from rear and front she took it like a slut. Our pretty little slut at that. It didn't take long before Konig shoved his cock balls deep into that sweet mouth ,groaning out "cumming-" ,before slowly pulling out of her mouth. "Good girl.." ,he praised while gently caressing her throat.

His sharp gaze now lingered on me as I fucked this pussy into exercy. She was a moaning mess ,arching her back before she came without a warning ,probably to dumbfucked to get a proper word out. The way that already tight pussy gripped my cock made it feel like she was crushing it. Which ,to no ones suprise ,made me cum at that tightness. I let her ride out her delicious high by lazily rolling my hips into hers ,rubbing her clit raw until she jerked away at the slightest friction.

I pulled out slowly ,watching my cum ooze out of her little hole. Now as I looked at that sweaty ,fucked out mess of an Omega ,her tummy indeed had a slight bulge from my cum nestled inside her. "Ah ah ah..dont waste those precious juices." ,Konig spoke sofly yet with a chuckle before he pulled her into a spooning position. Slowly inserting his thick shaft into her twitching hole ,stopping any cum from seeping out further. She moaned at the sensation yet stayed limp and all cuddly in his arms.

"Cockwarming eh?" ,I teased. "What can I say ,I like a warm ,tight pussy wrapped around me." ,Konig snickered back before beginning to caress her hair. A little cuddle session after this didn't sound too bad...so I decided to join them ,getting next to our well bred little omega and wrapping my arms around her.

[luveline]

Do you think maybe you could do a quick Miguel fic of him being supportive/comforting to spider-girl cause she’s been working too hard and stretched herself a bit thin trying to make everyone happy? I’ve read all your Miguel stories and it feels like it fits LMAO (I love love love all of your stuff btw you’re one of my fav Miguel writers)

thank you for your request! grumpy miguel comforts a tired spidergirl. 1.2k

Miguel doesn't bother looking down at the thwipping sound of a web connecting with the platform. You're the only person he knows well enough, who knows him well enough, to come up without asking. 

"Woah," you say, pulling yourself onto the platform with altogether too much force, taking a running stumble at him as you try to keep your balance. 

Miguel puts a hand out to catch you without looking away from his screen. "Careful." 

"Thanks, handsome," you croon, though it's missing its signature pep. 

Miguel does look up, then, dragging his attention from the monitors to rake it over you. You have your mask on, which is odd but not unheard of, and your posture is tight. The majority of your weight is being held on one foot, and when he follows your leg upward, your thigh is curving outward. How weird. 

You pull away from him gently and shimmy over to the desk you've stolen, a mountain of your things that topples intermittently lying in wait for your return. As soon as you approach, the flying droid you take on missions whizzes into the air and dances around your shoulders, not unlike the way you move yourself. 

"Come over here," Miguel says. 

"No," you say primly, "you're in a strange mood." 

"You've been here for two seconds," he says. If he were in a strange mood, it's not as if you could've already gathered that from so little observation. 

"Yeah, and you're not usually eager to have me near," you say. True and untrue. 

"Come here." 

You sigh and approach him as though he's dragging you, reeling you in, every footstep heavier than the last. Miguel grabs you by the shoulders when you're close and stations you neatly in front of him, thumb quick to find the seam of your mask and slide beneath. 

You squint at the sudden light of the room, unmasked, though your expression quickly relaxes. "You want to kiss me," you guess, saccharine sweet as you tilt your chin upwards. 

Miguel dodges your feigned kiss. You aren't wrong about what he wants, but you haven't identified his main priority, which is to find out why you'd been wearing the mask in the first place, and why you're walking like your converse shoes are full of cement. 

You're very, very tired, evidently. You look exhausted. Miguel has seen you run down before, you stretch yourself thin often, and you do it without complaint, but this is a new level. His heart actually hurts in his chest, he's that gutted for you. 

Miguel glares at you. "What, you're not sleeping?" 

"Oh, don't, handsome," you say, moving as though you're going to walk away. 

Miguel takes your face into his hand and keeps you where you are. "Hey, answer me." 

"Of course I'm sleeping," you say. You won't meet his eyes. Liar. "You're a tyrant." 

Be that as it may, Miguel wants what's best for you. He draws a line under your dark circles with the pad of his thumb, feeling the puffy skin regretfully. Carefully, so carefully, he traces the line of a tear unshed from the corner of your eye to the corner of your lips. 

"Not enough, then." 

You look at him funny. Your bottom lip twitches, and every ounce of his cool dissipates as you frown and lean forward, pressing your face to his chest. 

"I'm busy," you confess in a murmur, your arms hanging loosely around his waist.

Miguel takes it for I'm really tired. He hesitates, looking down at you, your smaller stature, feeling the weight your letting him hold up for the trust it is. You're tired and you're telling him, even though he had to prod. 

Miguel hugs your shoulders. You sag like a popped balloon. 

"I'm busy," he says, though he amends quickly at the sudden rigidness of your back under his hands, "I'm busy, and I still sleep. You have to sleep." 

"If I want to… to make time for me, I keep staying up late, you know? I've been training, and helping Hobie Brown take down the establishment–"

"What?" 

"–and I was trying to make that cover for your wristband but I keep getting it wrong." You stop suddenly. Your hand screws tighter into his front, fingers digging ineffectual against nanotechnology. "I'm useless, even when I try." 

"Why would you say that?" he asks quietly.

"I can't get things right. I want to do everything. I want to get better at fighting so I can come with you. I want to be a good friend to Hobie. I want to make you things 'cos you deserve them. I'm sorry. I just make everything worse."

Miguel let's you wallow for a moment. He's no stranger to self-loathing. It can feel good to simmer. He rubs your back inchingly slowly, not sure why he's letting himself, not sure why he's holding back. 

Miguel takes your shoulders into his hands and eases you back, ducking his head to meet your eyes. Forcing you to listen. "You don't make anything worse. You're tired, and being tired makes everything feel worse than it is. You're not the problem." 

Your cheek lists down to your shoulder. "You're being nice." 

"You don't have as much effect on things as you think," he says, ducking his head again to look you straight in the eye. "I mean that in a good way. You aren't hurting anyone. You can say no." 

"I don't want to say no." 

"You have to." He's tipping into tenderness now, plummeting fast and hard. "You need to look after yourself if you want to look after other people," he says. He wonders if what he's about to say is fair, but he's so unhappy with your obvious rampant fatigue that he decides he can live with the bad karma. "What if I need you to come with me to the next anomaly recovery? And you're too tired to stand? You'd have me go by myself?" 

"No." 

"Exactly, so do the right thing and sleep." Miguel says it simply, pulling away, pulling back, physically and emotionally. He likes you more than he should but being vulnerable is difficult. He hides behind a facade —your problem is ridiculous, and he doesn't want to talk about it anymore. 

You see straight through him. Hear the unsaid please. "I will. I'll go to bed… Thank you, Miguel." 

The facade slips as Miguel gives your bicep a warm squeeze. He turns away from you without another word, redirecting his attention on the screens, your presence like a thrumming he has to fight to ignore. 

"Bye, handsome," you say, stepping sideways off of the platform. He relaxes at the sound of a web sticking and your footsteps as they lead away. 

He rubs the bridge of his nose. 

"Inspiring," Lyla says, appearing from nowhere, a delighted, smarmy smile flickering across her face.

"That is getting so old," Miguel complains.

"Deprogram me, then." 

"Would if I could." 

"Ah, but then who would witness your frankly embarrassing attempts at comfort?" 

Miguel tries to catch her like a moth. She scoffs and leaps between his fingers. 

[alixra]

away game | paige bueckers

summary- paige is away at a game and calls you.

word count- 1.1k

UConn had just beat Maryland. A much-needed win after a tough loss against NC State.

You hardly knew anything about basketball. But you had found interest in the sport after falling in love with one of its biggest stars: Paige Bueckers. You had been dating her for roughly seven months. And you couldn't be happier.

Her schedule did make things difficult. She almost always had to be on the road for an away game. And if she wasn't, she was either at practice or working out. The two of you found ways to make it work. No matter how much you missed each other.

It had been two hours since the game ended. And you were awaiting a call from Paige. It had become a routine for her to call you every night when she was away. Even if it was for a short period.

Your phone began ringing, and you tried not to squeal in excitement.

"Hi, baby," Paige said as soon as you answered.

"Hi," you said through a smile. "How did your game go?"

"Good, I'm tired."

"You should be. You did amazing," you stated.

Paige's heart fluttered at your praise, "Thank you."

"Of course." You replied, comfortable silence taking over the phone call.

"What are you doing?" Paige asked, breaking the quiet.

"Homework," you groaned, causing her to laugh. "Where are the girls?"

"Oh, they went out. I'm the only one still here."

"Why didn't you go with them?" You questioned.

"I didn't feel like it," she explained. "I had something else on my mind anyway."

"Like what?"

"You," she smiled.

You giggled, glad that she couldn't see the blush on your face. "Oh really?"

"Mmhhmm," she responded proudly.

"I was thinking about you too."

"Yeah?"

"Yes," you whispered, lying on your back.

The atmosphere shifted, going from lighthearted to intense in mere seconds.

"I wanna hear your voice," Paige confessed, her hand resting on her stomach.

"Ok," you smiled. "What do you want me to say?"

"Tell me how good I did again."

Your grin widened, "You did so good. And you're so amazing and so perfect. And so hot."

Paige smirked, focusing on the last part of your sentence. "I'm so what?" She teased.

"So hot," you repeated, your voice serious compared to her playful one.

Paige cleared her throat, her hand getting close to her pants. "Thank you," she said, her voice huskier than before.

It was silent for a little before you spoke, "Paige."

"Yeah?"

"What's the real reason you didn't go out?" You inquired, knowing it wasn't like the party animal to not want to go out and get wasted.

"You know me too well," she smiled.

"I do," you responded, smirking triumphantly. "Now answer my question," you said firmly, noticing Paige was trying to get you off-topic.

Paige licked her lips, "Because I wish you were here."

"To do what?"

She opened her mouth to speak, but her words stuck in her throat.

"Come on, Paige. You can tell me."

"I just missed you," she replied stubbornly, slipping her hand underneath her sweatpants.

"Oh yeah?" You asked, picking up on the way her breath hitched out of nowhere.

"Yeah," she responded. Trying to control her shaky breath as she rubbed her clit through her soaked underwear.

"Liar," you stated.

"How am I a liar?" She replied, keeping up the innocent act.

"Because I know what you're doing right now."

She had now moved past her underwear, her fingers inching closer to her aching entrance. "What am I doing then?"

You smiled, taking your bottom lip in your teeth, "Touching yourself."

She chuckled breathily, "You caught me."

"I did," you replied. Your stomach tightened as you thought about Paige touching herself to your voice.

"Keep talking," she struggled to say, not trying to hide the quiver in her voice anymore.

"Why?" You asked, even though you knew what she wanted.

"Just- please," she whined. The faint sound of her fingering herself is prominent in your hearing.

"Do you do this a lot?" You questioned, giving in to her request.

"Only when you're not around," she responded.

"What do you think about?" You asked, already knowing the answer.

Her breathing was getting heavier now, "You."

"Why?" You inquired, enjoying making her say what you already knew out loud.

She huffed, "You know why."

"No, I don't," you lied, "Tell me.”

"Because you're pretty and hot," she practically whined. "And you have such an amazing body."

"I do?"

"Yes!" She responded, her tone more amped up now.

You couldn't help the way your hand drifted downwards. The throbbing between your legs is too intense to ignore.

"You close, baby?" You asked, now touching yourself too.

"Yeah," she moaned.

You sat your phone down on the bed, right beside your ear. "Hold on a little longer," you instructed.

You moved your hand from your clit to your dripping slit. Too impatient to wait any longer, you slipped two of your fingers inside yourself. Imagining that they were Paige's instead.You let the sounds she made bring you closer and closer to the edge. A few moans escape from your lips as well.

"Fuck," she murmured, aware of what you were doing.

"I love you," you exhaled.

"I love you too," she said, her voice strained.

You slid your fingers in and out of yourself, using your thumb to rub your clit.

She inhaled sharply before speaking again, "I'm gonna cum."

"Me too," you agreed, gritting your teeth.

Paige let out a long groan, finishing. Meanwhile, your orgasm was quickly approaching. You let the sounds of her riding out her high tip you over the edge, a string of curse words falling from your swollen lips. It wasn't one of the best orgasms you've had. But the mere idea of Paige made it enjoyable.

Silence rang throughout your ears as you let out a satisfied sigh. The only sound coming from your phone is your girlfriend's heavy breathing. Several minutes passed, the two of you simply listening to each other breathe.

"Y/n," Paige whispered.

"Yeah?"

"I was just making sure you were still there," she said, and you could tell she was smiling.

You laughed, "I'm here."

"Don't leave," she pleaded.

"I won't.”

"Thank you."

"Anytime," you responded.

Either way, you loved falling asleep on the phone with Paige. You loved the adorable sound of her breathing and how comforting her presence was. Even if she wasn't physically with you, you felt safe and secure.

"Goodnight, beautiful," she murmured, already half asleep.

Butterflies swarmed your stomach, "Goodnight, even more beautiful."

She laughed softly before submitting to sleep. You rolled over on your back, squirming around as you got comfortable. You relished in the warmth and coziness of your bed, thinking about how lucky you were to have your girlfriend.Your eyes felt heavy, and you yawned as you fell asleep, wishing that Paige was next to you.

[imtryingbuck]

Eleven

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Summary: Bucky comes from a well respected family, he falls in love with a girl who prefers the simple things in life. Follow their journey through the years.

Word count: 2,511

Warnings: fluff, angst, heavy use of pet names, nothing to major I don’t think.

A/N: No description of reader other than she has curly hair.

Masterlist   Series Masterlist

“I would like to adopt her”

~~~

It’s been nearly four years since Y/n was adopted by Howard and his wife Maria at first she was confused about what was happening when she had to leave Bucky’s home and go with Howard.

The couple already had a son named Tony who was ten at the time, at first he was distant with her until he heard crying during the night, he listened out to see if his mother or father would go and check on her upon hearing nothing more other than her whimpers he climbed out of his bed and made his way into her room.

“It’s okay you’re having a bad dream. Wake up Y/n.” He stayed with her until she fell back to sleep, softly stroking her hair as he read her the bed time story his mother was reading to her earlier that night.

Tony grew to be overprotective of his little sister.

He didn’t care about starting fights when he heard she was being bullied at school, glaring at those who stared at bit to long for his liking. Though he would never admit to it but he was actually jealous of Y/n’s friendship with Bucky and Steve, especially with Bucky.

Her first Christmas spent with the Starks was magical to her; the huge Christmas tree, the pretty lights, the food and the presents. So, so many presents.

As the years passed Howard and Maria watched proudly as Y/n came more and more out of her shell, became independent. They found out that she was quite a cheeky little girl cheeky monkey Howard called her, she would always stick her tongue out at him after he called her that. Maria loved it when Y/n would sit in between her legs and toss her hair back a silent way of asking her to play with her hair. They loved her equally as much as they loved Tony. 

“Ducky get back here!” She screamed.

“No!”

“Why?”

“Because you’re going to hit me!”

“No I’m not I promise” liar liar pants on fire she sang to herself.

Bucky stopped running slowly turning to face her with his eyes squinting. “Bunny I told you I know when your lying”

“Ducky.” Her hands going to her hips as she cocks her hip to the side just like she had seen her momma do “I’m not lying I swear it, just come here”

“Say please”

“Please”

“Say Bucky’s amazing”

“Bucky’s amazing”

“Now say I love Bucky so so so much”

“Eww I’m not saying that!”

“Then I won’t come to yo-“

“I love Bucky so so so much. Happy?”

“Yep” Bucky grinned as he walked over stopping in front of her “ow ow, Bunny stop! You said you wouldn’t hit me!” He cries out.

“You. Pushed. Me. Over. In. The. Mud!” She says smacking him.

“It was funny”

“Was not! Now I’m dirty and momma won’t like it”

“Aww. But it was funny though you have to admit”

It…it kind of was.

“It’s not funny and you have no right in touching her” Tony says loudly walking over from where he was sitting.

“I-I…we were just playing”

“We were just playing” Tony mocks “you could have really hurt her”

“I would never hurt Bunny”

“Her names Y/n. Repeat after me Y/n”

“I know what her name is Tony”

“Well stop calling her that ridiculous name-“

“Hey! I like when he calls me Bunny, Tone why are you being mean for?”

“He should be hanging out with kids his own age”

“I’m a year older than her…”

Tony stands there and raises an eyebrow, glancing around the yard he pulls out a cigarette out of its packet “I don’t care stop hanging around my sister”

“You’re not allowed to smoke! Momma said it’s bad”

“Like I care! You” he points at Bucky “don’t talk to my sister ever aga-“

“Shut up Tony, he’s my friend”

“You’ll stay away from him Y/n/n” 

Making a show of herself getting closer to Bucky she took his hand in hers “No. You don’t get to tell me what to do!”

“Listen here you little brat you’ll do as-“

“Ducky…”

“Yeah”

“Run!”

“Get back here Y/n!”

Hand in hand they take off running back into the house with Tony close behind them. 

“Woah woah slow down kiddo’s”

“Sorry Mr George”

“Sorry dad” they call out at the same time.

“Momma, momma Tony smoking again!”

“What?”

“Me and Ducky was playing outside and Tony said the Ducky can’t call me Bunny anymore or be my friend anymore and he pulled out that white stick that he’s not allowed to have” she breathes out, slightly out of breath from her running.

“Ma…she’s lying” Tony speaks hesitantly as his mother glares at him.

“No she’s not!” Bucky’s quick to defend Bunny.

“Y/n sweetie why don’t you and James go back outside and carry on playing, I’ll call you in when lunch is ready” Maria says softy yet leaving no room to argue.

“Bu-Y/n I’m really sorry for pushing you over, I-I was just playing” Bucky says once they’re back outside.

“What did you just call me?”

“Y/n…”

“No no no I’m Bunny to you”

“But Tony said-“

“Ignore Tony! Please Ducky” 

“Okay”

“What’s my name?”

“Miss poo poo pants” he grinned.

Y/n loved going to school even though she had no friends and was bullied quite often. She tried desperately to make friends just like Maria told her to do but none of the other kids wanted to be friends with her.

She was that one kid who was always alone and sometimes often seen talking to herself, she would run from one class to the next just so she wasn’t late and ate her food in the bathroom.

Despite always being alone she loved school.

One time Maria made her go to a sleepover that she wasn’t invited too, Maria spoke with the girls mom and that Friday night she was taken to the house for this sleepover.

It was a nightmare.

The other girls didn’t speak to her, they didn’t let her join in the fun activities. When it was time to sleep she settled down in her sleeping bag and feel asleep, waiting for the morning to come so she could leave.

When she woke her heart broke.

They had cut all her hair off.

“W-why di-did you do t-t-this?” She stuttered out, gripping the pile of hair they had cut off.

“It’s funny” one of the girls giggled.

Y/n grabbed her things and ran out of the room and down the stairs passing the mom on her way out, missing the grin on the woman’s face. She sat outside the home waiting for her momma to pick her up, tears streaming heavily down her face.

“Y/n? What-“

“T-they cut my hair off momma”

“Sweet baby come here”

Y/n climbed into Maria’s arms clinging on for dear life. Her hair was so long and curly and she loved it, it now came to her shoulders and was cut messily.

“I’ll get my friend to do it properly, okay? She’ll make it look nice and we’ll get ice cream afterwards yeah?”

“M-my hair momma”

“I know baby, it’ll grow back I promise”

Maria’s friend did in fact make her hair nicer but the problem was that it was now a little bit shorter than what the mean girls did. Y/n shook her head at the opportunity to get ice cream, all she wanted to do was go home and get into bed.

“What happened angel?” Howard asked when he came out of his office - the one place Y/n wasn’t allowed to explore - concerned and shocked at seeing his daughter red eyed and short hair.

“They cut my hair off because it was funny”

“Did you want them too?”

“No dada I was asleep”

“Oh angel.” He kneels down in front of her, his hands cold as he presses them on both sides of her head. “You still look very pretty”

“But my hair looks stupid”

“It doesn’t look stupid darling”

“It does!”

“No it doesn’t. Don’t try and argue back missy. I wouldn’t lie to you Y/n you know this”

“Sorry dada, can I go to bed please?”

“It’s okay and you can, I’ll wake you up when lunch is ready okay”

“Okay” she rushes off upstairs and to her bedroom, climbing into her bed she laid there and with shaky hands she ran her fingers through her hair. Crying as she dreads Bucky’s reaction, knowing he loves her long hair.

Bucky walked into Howard’s house with Steve next to him, wondering where Bunny was.

“She’s in the backyard boys“

“Thanks Miss Maria” they call over their shoulders already making their way outside.

“Hi Bunny”

“Hi Ducky, hi Steve”

“Why do you look sad?” Steve says after he said his greeting.

“Why are you wearing your hood up?” Bucky then questions.

“Please please please don’t be mad”

“Why would I be mad Bun?”

“Because-“ her hands move towards the hood and slowly pulled it down, eyes casted downwards. “-of this”

“Bun…” Bucky gasped with furrowed eyebrows.

“I’m sorry” she cries.

“You had your hair cut?”

“I didn’t want to I swear!”

“Why did you let your ma do it then?”

“I didn’t, she didn’t, I was at a sleepover and the girls did it. They cut my hair wh-when I was asleep Ducky”

Bucky moved closer to her and wrapped his arms around her as she cried. “It’s okay Bunny, it looks nice. Doesn’t it Stevie”

“Super nice” Steve agrees.

“It looks stupid!”

“It doesn’t”

After pulling away Bucky wiped the tears away and frowned, he always hated seeing her cry because he didn’t know what to do to make the tears stop from falling.

“Do you want to carry on playing fairies?” He asked knowing that she loved playing that game.

“Okay”

They played for hours, Bucky missing the way her hair flowed behind her as she ran. Missing the way it would always tangle itself around her body.

He didn’t know these girls who did this to his Bunny but he hated them.

“Bunny guess what?”

Lifting her head off the ground she looked over at him “what?”

“It’s nearly Christmas”

“I know, I’ve been good this year have you?”

“Of course. What do you think Santa will bring you?”

“A pony”

“A pony? How will Santa be able to put a pony on his sled Bun?”

“Magic” she says as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“Magic?”

“Yep, what do you think Santa will be bringing you?”

“A bike”

“You already have one…”

“I know but I want a new one”

“Oh. Well I’ll be getting a pony and you’ll be getting a bike because we’ve been really good this year”

“That’s true”

They both lay back down and carry on watching the fluffy clouds go past. Y/n really hoped that she was getting a pony whilst Bucky was also hoping the same thing for her.

“Duck”

“Bun”

“Will you be spending Christmas with us again?”

“I’m not sure why?”

“I want you to”

“Why?”

“Because your smelly”

“That makes no sense”

“You don’t make no sense”

They fall back into silence as the clouds go by.

“Bun”

“Duck”

“We’ll be friends forever won’t we?”

“Of course”

“Good, that’s good”

Silence takes over once again.

“Duck”

“Bun”

“I love you”

“I love you too”

“Good, that’s good”

Silence takes over once…again.

“Bun”

“Duck”

“My ma’s having a baby”

“What?”

“Yeah she’s having a baby”

“I want one”

“You can’t”

“Why not?”

“Your not married”

“Oh. Well can you marry me?”

“Why?”

“So I can have a baby”

“Okay”

“So…are we married now?”

“Yeah I think so”

“Good, that’s good”

“Should we tell our parents?”

“Okay”

Bucky stands up first and hold his hand out for her to take, hand in hand they head inside to where their parents were talking.

“Ma dad uncle Howard and Aunt Maria me and Bunny have to tell you something” Bucky starts, gaining the attention of all four adults.

“What is it son?”

“We’re married” Y/n beams.

“Oh really? Since when?” Howard chuckles.

“We were outside and Bunny asked me if we could get married so we did” Bucky continues.

“Why did you want to marry Bucky darling?”

“So I can have a baby” looking at Winnie and Maria who start to choke on their drinks.

“Do you know where babies come from?” George says as he pats Winnie on her back.

“The belly” the two kids reply in unison.

“Do you know how the baby gets there?”

“No…”

“You’ll have to kiss each other” Howard says.

“I have to kiss Bunny?”

“I have to kiss Ducky?”

All four adults stifle their laughter as the kids pull away from each other pulling disgusting faces.

“Eww I’m not kissing him!”

“I’m not kissing her!”

“That’s how babies get in the woman’s belly” George chuckles.

“I don’t want to be married to you anymore Ducky”

“Good I don’t want to be married to you either”

“Look Bunny I got a new bike!” Bucky says as he speeds past her on his new bike.

“That’s so cool can I ride it?”

“Okay but you have to be careful I don’t want you falling off like last time”

Bucky hops off the bike and waits for Y/n to come over and helps her get onto the bike. He holds on until she’s gotten the hang off it.

“I’m riding it Ducky! Look” she squeals.

“I’m looking, I’m proud of you Bun” just as he says them words she starts to wobble and falls off. “Bunny! Christ Bun are you okay?”

“I broke your bike Ducky I’m so sorry” she cries as she clutches her knee closer to her chest.

“I don’t care about that, are you hurt?”

“My knee. Ducky I’m so sorry”

“It’s okay-that’s a lot of blood” he pales at the heavy flow of blood streaming from her injured knee.

“Is-is it going to fall off?”

“No, well it shouldn’t do.”

Lifting her up he helps her walk in to the house, he calls out for Maria who comes rushing over and paling when she sees the blood flowing down her daughters leg, picking her up she rushes her into the bathroom where she can clean up the wound.

Bucky felt really bad for her falling off his bike especially since this time she had hurt herself, last time it happened luckily she fell off and landed on grass, the only injuries that was done was to her dress.

Watching as she limped out of the bathroom he rushed over giving her his arm to lean on.

“I’m really sorry Bunny”

“It’s not your fault. I’m sorry I broke your bike”

“It’s not broken don’t worry”

During dinner Bucky asks Y/n if she had gotten a pony from Santa, shaking her head sadly she carried on eating.

“When I’m older I’ll buy you a pony” he promises smiling when she smiles up at him.

<Previous   Next>

Tags: @cjand10 @unaxv @mcira @bisexualnikkisixx @kneelforloki @kandis-mom @sagebarness @sandyruston @scott-loki-barnes @nikkivillar @saltedcoffeescotch @scentedharmonymiracle @examinarei @sarcastickiddo @sadboiabby @unholyhuntress @8crazy-freak8 @ijustneedpopcorn @moonbeampillgoth @imcinnamoons @elmo-1066 @violetwinterwidow01 @suz7days @adoredire @ozwriterchick @randomrosie01 @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @emerald-writes @justafangir1

[skipper1331]

Loving Esme // Esme Morgan

a/n: based off this and this request:)

Loving Esme was the easiest thing in the world and always had been.

You fell in love with her the moment you saw her.

Back then, you didn‘t know what love was and neither did she, but you knew that she was special.

The two of you became friends in an instant as you shared the same interests and hobbies. You wanted to spend every second of the day with her, play football, read books or no matter what. As long as Esme was there, you were the happiest girl in the world.

With 15 you realized that the feelings you had for the blonde weren‘t just friendly but much more. It scared you.

Age 15

"How do you know if you like someone?" you asked Esme who was sat at her desk, doing some homework while you relaxed on her bed. "Well, I think you should feel butterflies, that weird sensation in your stomach when you are near that person. But you should also feel nervous and shy, afraid what to say because you want to impress that person. A racing heart and sweaty hands is also a sign yet always feeling comfortable and secure in their proximity. If you like someone that someone could never do anything wrong because they are too perfect to do anything wrong. Their laugh is like music to your ears, the sound of their voice is angelic and the slightest touch of skin burns your skin…" Esme told you as she didn’t even look from her work.

To you, it sounded like Esme talked about the feeling of being in love like she had read in her many romance books. What you didn’t know nor did she realize was that she in fact described the things she felt when she was with you.

When no answer came, the blonde turned on her chair, looking directly at you "Do you like someone?" a frown displayed in her face.

"No"

Lie.

Esme turned back on her chair, trying to focus on her work. You had lied to her, you have never done before. Why now? Did you like someone? Why would you lie about that? Why would you lie to your best friend?

Silently, you slapped your forehead. You were such a bad liar and Esme knew you better than anyone. Of course, she knew you were lying, her eyes gave it away.

Why couldn't you tell her the truth?

You felt exactly as she had described.

Because you had these feelings for her.

Those feelings got exposed two weeks later.

Bothered by your lie, Esme couldn’t think about anything else. Did you realize she talked about you? Are you in love with someone?

The two of you didn’t hang out as much as before. It felt weird not seeing each other every day - the blonde always some excuse ready. She didn’t understand her behavior but she felt like that was the only way to protect herself. She didn’t realize that that was the cause of so much pain. Her own pain and yours - she never wanted to hurt you.

When you asked if she wanted to hang out because you missed her, she already had plans.

"Sorry, mum asked me to help in the house today. Maybe tomorrow" she said, not looking in your eyes, her voice higher than usually - she was lying.

"Fine" you replied grumpy, walking away. Why was she lying? Did she not want to be friends with you anymore? Have you done something wrong? The defenders eyes followed you until you were out of sight.

You deliberately walked the longer way home to calm down. Unfortunately it didn't work as your frustration was still very present. It wasn't just the frustration that was bothering you, but the warm feeling that filled your heart when you thought about Esme, even though you were annoyed with her.

You had to talk to her, you couldn’t leave it the way it was at the moment. It not only annoyed you but hurt too.

"Where are you going?" your mother asked as you marched down the stairs, determined to talk to Esme - to get your girl.

"Esme‘s"

-

You knocked on the door like your life depended on it, knuckles already red when finally someone opened it.

"Y/n? What are you doing here?" the person you wanted to see answered, "come in" as she stepped aside, letting you enter her home, your second home.

"Your mum isn’t here" you stated, "you‘re alone at home."

Shamefully, the blonde looked down on the floor, "i am"

"You lied to me"

"I didn’t mean to" the blonde started to walk to her room, not wanting to discuss this with you right in front the front door as one of her family members could come home any second.

Following her, "Why did you?" your voice was quiet, afraid of the answer.

"You lied to me too" she defended herself, pacing around in her room, "why didn‘t you tell me you like someone?" she asked, catching you somehow off guard. You knew that she had caught you lying that day. "Who do you like?"

"You lied to me, because I lied to you, is that what you‘re saying? Esme! What kind of behavior is that?" your voice started to raise, the built up frustration discovering the surface.

"And what is yours?! Since when do you lie? You‘re the worst liar I know!"

"Of course I am! I hate lying, especially to you! It was a reflex" you tried to explain, arms flying wildly around.

"Reflex?" Esme’s voice lowered, not liking the loud shouting atmosphere.

"Yeah" you shrugged your shoulders, your voice dropping quite as well, "I lied because I panicked. And I panicked because the- the feelings you explained, I feel them. For you" your heart stopped beating, your hands shaking, mind spinning. Did you really just admit your feelings?

"I love the way you laugh, I love the way you smile, I love the way you talk about the world, i love that you‘re the most supportive, sweetest and caring person I know. I want to be around you all day long because you make me happy and nervous. I don’t want to be your friend, i want to be much more."

Because loving Esme was the easiest thing to do.

The widest smile appeared on Esme’s face as her eyes shone with so much happiness, "can i take you on a date?" she smiled, stepping closer to you, slowly taking your hands.

Your smile matched hers when you heard her question, "yes please" you answered, standing on your tip toes to press a kiss to her cheek. She blushed furiously in response.

"I really didn‘t mean to lie, i was- jealous of you possibly liking someone that isn‘t me"

Age 17

"Do you want kids in the future?" your girlfriend asked as the two of you laid in the garden, stargazing. Your head rested on Esme‘s shoulder, her arm wrapped around you as your legs tangled together.

"Yes, a boy and a girl" you replied sheepishly, the stars so clear, "the boy as the firstborn, so he can protect his little sister"

The sweet girl giggled "small perfect family" yet secretly loving the idea as she imagined little yous running around.

"Do you ever want kids?" you prompted yourself on your elbow to look at the blonde - she looked breathtaking under the moonlight. "I want everything you want" she was completely lost in your eyes, their sparkle something magical as her hand reached up to brush the loose strand of hair behind your ear. She was falling in love with you all over again.

In that moment, no words were exchanged, the loving looks telling more than words ever could. Leaning down, you pressed your lips against the defenders, the butterflies erupting in your stomach as your cheeks caught fire - nothing could compare to the sweet kisses you shared with Esme.

Loving Esme was the easiest thing to do.

Age 20

Sitting next to Esme‘s family in the family and friends section of the stadium, you waited for the Manchester Derby to start. You were wearing your girlfriends jersey, her name and number across your back which always made her heart melt. You looked so cute in sky blue.

You loved derbies almost as much as Es did, the excitement and enthusiasm radiating off her body weeks before match day.

You cheered for the tall blonde as if you were her biggest supporter - which you were, in fact and always had been.

Every time she won the ball and each clean tackle made your heart swell with pride. That was your girl!

The game was thrilling as City and United had their chances. Games like these were always intense, both teams wanting to show what colour Manchester had.

The game ended in a solid 2-0 win for the sky blues, your girlfriend already happily walking over to you after she had shook hands with her opponents and talked to her friends for a few minutes.

"Hello my love" she smiled, her voice raspy from communicating on the pitch. It made your knees buckle every time.

"Hey my superstar" you grinned, leaning up to kiss her. Immediately, her arms went around your waist, pulling you close as took in the atmosphere.

"Marry me" she whispered, completely dazed "I want you to be my wife"

Confused, you took a step back. Was she high? "Are you messing with me?" you chuckled nervously, eyes darting around her face, searching for any signs of joking.

"No. Seeing you in my jersey, with my name on your back - i want it permanently. I have the ring hidden in my car since months, but it never felt like the right moment. But now it does. I know this isn‘t the way you probably wanted to get propo-" you launched forward, cutting the blonde off as you connected your lips in a public appropriate kiss which was yet passionate.

"Ask me"

"Will you marry me?" she asked, eyes locking with yours at each word.

It didn‘t matter if it was the way you imagined that she would propose,

it didn’t matter that it wasn‘t the way she had planned to propose,

all that mattered was that it was the just two of you.

"Yes!"

And loving Esme was and always had been the easiest thing to do.

Age 26

"Did you ever believe we'd make it this far?"

Three years ago, your beautiful baby boy greeted the world. He looked like a mini version of Esme - blonde hair, eyes sky blue.

He was playing in the sandpit in your garden while Esme and you had an watchful eye over him, her arms wrapped around your stomach, head resting on yours.

"Mama! Mommy! Look!" proudly, he showed you his sandcastle, the boy more interested in building stuff than kicking the ball - Esme had tried often enough to play with him but he just wasn’t a footballer.

"I always believed in us" you replied, melting further in her touch after both of you had answered your son.

"Let me rephrase it, my love. Did you ever think our dreams would come true?"

Her fingers drummed softly on your pregnant belly, declaring her question.

Your firstborn was a boy, always like you wished for. And in not even two months, your baby girl would greet the world - the fairytale you always wanted.

"Yes, because loving you was the easiest thing to do."

[myahs-delulu-palace]

Human or Doppel…?| That’s not my Neighbor| Francis Mosses x F! Reader OneShot

———————————————————————

After another stressful day of work as a doorman, [Name] reaches her apartment and go inside, she finds Francis sitting on the sofa reading a book. [Name] remembers buzzing him in earlier but can’t help but get a little paranoid now…what if he was being a really perfect doppelganger? Just waiting to strike…she starts to tense up a bit at the thought.

Francis takes his eyes off his book once he realizes [Name] came home, but he could tell something was off already.

"Mmmm Darling? Is something wrong?" he asked when he saw her staring at him.

[Name] snaps out of her trance. "Oh uhm…nothings wrong, just tired from work today…those doppelgangers are a lot of work…" [Name] didn’t want him to know what she was actually thinking…if she did, and if he was actually a doppelganger…she’s be fucked even more early…

Francis sets his book aside and gets up. He slowly walks towards her. She can smell a milky smell from him. He wraps his arms around her waist. "Mmmm…Are you sure everything is alright? You have a serious look on your face."

[Name] forces a smile as she looked at her husband’s tired eyes.

"I’m sure, I’m fine honey…" she was obviously lying, a whole ass fetus could tell she was lying…[Name] was a really bad liar when she’s nervous.

Francis could see through your forced smile. He was starting to worry. "Mmmmm…You don’t look fine darling. Are you sure nothing is wrong? I’m getting that feeling that you have been having doubts about me being a Doppelganger..."

[Name] froze…'fucking hell…how did he figure it out so quick!?' she thought to herself. "What…? What uhm…what makes you think that…?" She was still tryna lie even though she was caught so easily.

Francis noticed her sudden change in behavior. This confirmed his suspicions. His expression softened as he tightened his arms around her. "Darling....the past few days...I could see it in your eyes. I could see that you have been having doubts about me. Am I wrong? Please don't tell me.....you think I'm a Doppelganger..."

[Name] looks at him for a bit deciding whether or not to tell him the truth…Francis sensed her hesitation and gently lifts her chin up. He gently looks into your eyes and softly says.

"Darling, please.....don't be afraid to tell me the truth. I can tell you have doubts about me. I know that there are many Doppelgangers out there and you have encountered them at work. Darling...please tell me the truth. Is that...it? Do you think I'm a Doppelganger?"

[Name] sighs and nods her head finally admitting it. "I’m sorry Francis…it’s just…this job and these doppelgangers…they’re getting to my head…these doppels are getting smarter and smarter and it’s making me paranoid…"

Francis sighs as he gently rubs her back. He kisses your forehead and holds you tightly. He whispers into your ear. "I understand Darling. I understand your fears about the Doppels. But I promise you one thing. I swear to you, that I'm not a Doppelganger. I'm real. I'm not a fake. I'm a real man who loves you. I'm your husband..."

[Name] sighs as she lays her head on his chest for comfort, she was glad her paranoia was wrong…she really needed to relax right now after this stress…

Francis can tell that she was overwhelmed with everything. He rubs his fingers through your hair gently and speaks in a soothing voice. "Why don't you forget about your work for the time being and just relax. I'll make you hot cocoa with chocolate milk just the way you like it, sound good?"

[Name] lifts her head up to look at Francis in his eyes again. "Yes, thank you Francis…I’m lucky to have you…" Francis softens with a smile as he continues to stroke her hair. He leans in and gently kisses [Name]’s forehead. He breaks away with a soft chuckle.

"Mmmm....I'm lucky to have you too Darling. I'll be right back with the cocoa okay?" [Name] nods as Francis let her go, she walked to the living room and sat on the couch waiting for her dear husband to come back.

In the kitchen, Francis mixed the hot cocoa. As he mixes the cocoa on the stove, he hums a tune to himself.

Five minutes later, Francis brings the mug of cocoa to the living room. He walks over to the sofa where [Name] is sitting. He sits next to her and gives her the mug. "Here you go Darling. Fresh hot cocoa for you with extra chocolate milk. Just the way you like it.

[Name] takes the hot cocoa carefully and blows on it a bit before drinking it, it tasted sooo good! Francis made the best hot cocoa. “This is making me feel better already, I love you Francis…thank you again for comforting me…”

Francis smiles softly as he watches her drink the hot cocoa. He wraps his arm around her waist and brings her close to his chest. "Mmmm...I'm so glad. Glad that I could reassure you. I'll always be here for you whenever you are feeling nervous. I love you so much Darling...I really don't know what I would do without you in my life...You're everything to me."

Francis' words made [Name] blush as she cuddled next to him on the couch and continued to drink her hot cocoa, they remained next to each other the rest of the night…

———————————————————————

I just thought, “this will make a great fanfic! :p” and now here I am on the toilet writing this out. Hope you enjoyed reading! I’ve been dying to make a “That’s not my neighbor” story and I finally made one! I would’ve made a twist ending but decided to just go wholesome if that’s alright. Maybe I’ll make an alternate ending…

[ghostkennedy]

I Would Never Let You F**k Me

~Leon Kennedy x fem! Reader~

Word count: 1196

This is my writing for @myrarenee ‘s ask that I have copied below:

This isn’t really a question but I think a Leon Kennedy smut where he hacks his best friends camera system and watches her fuck herself with his names on her lips. And one day she get snippy and says “id never let you fuck me” or something of the sort. He just grips her jaw and says “Sweetheart, I’ve been watching you fuck yourself while moaning my name.” “Why don’t we make it real this time”

!!!!!!!MINORS DNI! GHOSTKENNEDY IS STRICTLY 18+!!!!!!!

“But our babies would be so cute. It’s theoretical, you can agree to a stupid deal that probably won’t come to fruition,” Leon teased you. The both of you lazily sat on the couch, watching some shitty rerun on TV that you weren’t really paying attention to. You’d be lying to yourself if you claimed this whole conversation between the two of you didn’t make your heart flutter in your chest. He’s your best friend, the only guarantee in your life. Everything could go to shit and Leon would still show up and show out for you. You’d been crushing on him since the two of you met so many years ago.

He could so easily jokingly flirt with you, because unlike you, he wasn’t repressing feelings in order to preserve your friendship. You’ve fucked up so many things in your lifetime and you refused to let Leon be another one. All you could do was shake your head, “We are full ass adults, Leon. You don’t need some agreement with someone to marry and have kids if you don’t have it figured out in ten years. You’ll find somebody and will breed your spawn, you will be just fine.”

You stared at Leon as he pouted at you. Once this man had his mind set to something, it was impossible to persuade him another way. You sighed before speaking, “You do realize babies don’t magically appear right? Like we’d have to have sex to make one. Me, you, fucking. That thought alone should be enough to get your mind off your ridiculous deal.” He gasped and acted horrified at the mere thought, clutching his chest causing you to laugh hysterically. 

“Are you trying to hurt my feelings? I don’t think I’m that bad in bed, good god. I think we’d figure it out just fine,” he continued to insist on his idea. All you could do was roll your eyes at him. “Hey don’t roll your eyes at me! I haven’t had any complaints from the ladies who have taken a ride on the Leon-” you couldn’t bare to let him finish his sentence.

You snapped, “Just drop it okay? I would never let you fuck me.” Your tone was so much harsher than you intended, but you were desperate to drop this conversation. You didn’t want to go there with him right now. It’d be putting too much at stake and you couldn’t allow anything to ruin your friendship. A hurt look washed over Leon’s face and you felt so guilty. You were getting ready to apologize, to back track, maybe even just agree to his little idea, but then a smirk slowly grew on his face. He can be so confusing at times.

“Liar,” he suddenly proclaimed and you cocked an eyebrow up at him. You were ready to ask him what he meant by that before he continued on, “What do you think about when you touch yourself, hmm? And don’t fucking lie to me.”

You blinked at him, trying to comprehend if he really just said that. “Excuse me-” you started, ready to give him an earful about how inappropriate his behavior was. How none of that is any of his business.

He wasn’t having any of it though. He reached out for you, gripping your jaw tightly, making you stare right into his eyes. “I’ve been watching you, watching how you fuck yourself while moaning out for me. Moaning my name and holding back all those little noises you make. Watching your face as you cum while begging me to fuck you. So yes, you are a liar. How about you be honest with me and tell me exactly what you think about while touching yourself and maybe, just fucking maybe, I’ll give you what you’ve been wanting,” he said in a low, husky voice. Between his firm grip on your jaw and the way he was speaking to you, your traitorous pussy was becoming wet extremely fast.

“How?” you questioned him in an embarrassingly shaky voice. Your throat had run dry, your body slightly trembling as your nerves grew and your anxiousness peaked.

He snickered at you, “Yeah, the government training didn’t teach me anything. Surely, I wouldn’t be able to hack into some pesky little cameras. I gotta be honest sweetheart, the security system you installed is a joke. Someone could so easily access them and watch all the dirty little things you do when you think no one is watching.” With the grip he had on your jaw, he slowly pulled you closer to him until your faces were just inches apart. “Now, you still haven’t answered my question. Cmon, it’s just me, you can tell me,” he told you in a condescending tone.

“I-I,” you struggled to speak between your dry mouth and jumbled thoughts. He gripped your jaw tighter, raising his eyebrows as if he was daring you to test him. “I think about what it’d be like if you tied me up and did whatever you wanted with me,” you tried to turn your head away to avoid his gaze, but his grip on your jaw only got tighter. He gently nodded his head, encouraging you to continue. “I think about you forcing your cock down my throat and telling me how I’m such a good girl for you. About how pretty your cock must be. How you’d spank me if I disobeyed you,” you spoke softly and he hummed in response.

“Sometimes I fantasize about you bending me over and fucking me roughly in front of others. Showing them how well I take your cock. How hard I let you fuck me,” you confessed as you both slowly leaned in closer and closer to each other. “You’d mark me up so everyone knows I belong to you. You’d make sure every step I take for the next week reminds me of you and your cock,” you told him as he closed the gap between your mouths.

His hand slipped from your jaw to your hair as he pulled you impossibly closer. The kiss started slow and sensual, but quickly turned messy and desperate. Leon didn’t leave a single millimeter of your mouth untouched by his tongue.

Without breaking the kiss, he pulled you on top of him to straddle him. You wrapped your arms around his neck as his hands traveled down your sides until they landed on your ass, giving your cheeks a tight squeeze in his big, strong hands. You couldn’t help but whimper beneath his touch.

He pulled away from the kiss, a line of saliva still connecting your mouths together as you both greedily sucked in breaths. Leon reached his hand up, breaking the line of saliva and running his thumb across your bottom lip. He slowly pushed his thumb past your lips and you instantly wrapped your mouth around the digit, sucking it as you stared into his eyes. A moan slipped past his lips at the sight of you like this.

“What do you say sweetheart? Why don’t we make it real this time? You can show me just how much you’d never let me fuck you.”

~masterlist~

[gurugirl]

Relax | bfd!harry

best friend's dad harry x reader

Summary: Fae asks you something that you aren't prepared to answer. You and Harry discuss what to do next.

Word Count: 4.9k

Warning: 18+ only, smut, lying, cheating, age gap, angst

Best Friend's Dad!Harry Masterlist

“It’s like pulling teeth to get any info from you about this mystery man. You can’t even tell me what his name is?” Fae was sitting across from you at the little café you both loved. You had a coffee and bagel and she was drinking her matcha. You hated the conversation. Hated that she was so observant. Hated lying to her.

“I just don’t think it’s worth mentioning. It’s… not serious.” That was especially hard to say. Because it was serious. You were in love and Harry was already making plans to talk to his wife. You were both so serious, in fact, you were willing to sabotage your relationship with Fae. Harry knew it wouldn’t go over well but he didn’t want to not be with you. And it was the same for you. Even if Fae was mad at you and never talked to you again, you couldn’t see yourself ending it with Harry just to keep your relationship with Fae.

At the beginning, of course, that was always the plan. That what you and Harry were doing was short term and Fae was more important to you than he was. You’d end your little thing with Harry and both go your separate ways to never speak of the bad thing you’d done together. No one would be the wiser.

Except it never stopped. You never ended it and Harry wanted more of you. But when he told you he’d fallen in love with you and admitted to not wanting to touch his wife again…

“Tell me his name. Come on. I need to know how to address this rich mystery man. You’ve been seeing him for a while too. And I know you’re more serious about him than you’re letting on.”

You sighed and looked your friend in the eye and made up a name, “Henry.” God, you were the worst liar. Couldn’t even come up with a name that wasn’t similar to Harry’s.

Fae squinted at you and sipped her matcha. She kept her eyes on you as she placed the mug down and nodded, “Henry. Interesting.” She sighed and closed her eyes and then looked back at you, “I need to ask you something and I need you to be honest with me. I… some information has come to light and… I hate to accuse you but you are being shady about all this kind of and…”

You swallowed thickly as you listened to Fae bumble about what she needed to ask you. You felt your heart pounding in your chest and braced yourself for the direct hit.

“He’s older? Right? Like… your dad’s age.”

You blinked and tried to steady your hands around your mug as you nodded.

“Okay. And he’s married?”

You let out a breath and pinched your brows together, “What? Why would you say that?”

“His name’s not actually Henry is it?”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck…

You thought you might pass out. You thought you might fall to the floor and crack your head open and that would be a good thing. To avoid this question. You knew what was coming next. This wasn’t good and you were cornered. You wouldn’t be able to lie to her anymore if she called you out for seeing her dad. Which you knew was just about to happen.

“Fae! Y/n! Hey, it’s crazy to see you two here!” Saved by the fucking bell. The bell being an old friend you and Fae used to hang out with. Beverly. She had moved away a few years ago.

She pulled up a seat and sat down with you as Fae gave you a look that told you the conversation wasn’t over. She was going to extract the information from you sooner or later. But you knew that would happen anyway. You and Harry were gearing up to tell everyone. You just hadn’t imagined it being this way.

Beverly started talking about herself, what she’d been up to. You were not all there and could barely pay any attention to her words as you kept glancing at Fae and trying to think of an excuse to get out of there so you could dodge Fae’s interrogation.

You made small talk quickly and then stood up, “I… uh… I have to go. I’ll call you Beverly! We can catch up soon. And I’ll talk to you later, okay?” You looked at Fae as you spoke the question.

You left your half-eaten bagel and rushed to your car. You tried to make it look as if you were calm and normal but you knew Fae had seen the tremble in your hands and it was very unlike you to get up and leave mid-conversation. Especially when she knew you had nowhere to be.

You called Harry and left a voicemail. He was at the office that day and you knew he’d be busy. He had a bunch of things for a work meeting with some investors that were visiting so you didn’t expect to hear from him right away. And you didn’t. In fact, it wasn’t until his day was over at work that he finally called you back.

You were in a bit of a panic when you answered his call. Because you’d been ignoring Fae’s calls and texts all afternoon. You felt awful. Felt like you were going to spiral and have a panic attack but Harry’s voice on the line gave you some solace.

He sounded calm. Which helped you feel more at ease, “Have you heard from Fae? Or your wife?”

“No. I mean…” he paused, “Fae called me and left a voicemail but I haven’t listened to it yet. Why?”

You sighed and told Harry about your morning with Fae and the kind of questions she asked you.

“And she’s been calling and texting ever since and I’ve been ignoring her because I think she knows, Harry. I don’t know how but she did say some information had come to light and I don’t know what that means but–“

“Baby. Breathe. Calm down. I’m coming over okay?”

“No! She might see your car here and what if she stops by? She knows something! She’s onto–“

“Y/n. I need you to calm down, baby. I am coming over. If she stops by then she stops by. We can handle this. It’s going to be okay.”

You paced and kept looking out your window to look for Harry. Or even Fae. You weren’t sure if she worked that night or not but you wouldn’t put it past her to show up unannounced.

Harry’s knock on your door startled you. You were in your kitchen trying to distract yourself when you heard the knocking. You looked out your peephole first just to make sure it was him and quickly let him inside.

He had a serious look on his face as he sat his briefcase down and pulled you to your couch to sit with him. You knew he found something out. And now you were reeling with nerves.

You sat on the cushion but Harry pulled at you, “On my lap,” murmuring his words as you were brought to his thighs and sat over them. He wrapped his arms around you and kissed your forehead, “Fae does seem to know something. I listened to her voicemail. Someone saw us together. A friend of her mom and mine.”

“Wait. So… She knows? Like for sure?”

Harry sighed, “Maybe not for sure. But the description of the man, which is obviously me, matches and they saw my car too.”

“And… your wife? So she…”

Harry nodded and thumbed over your jaw softly, “I think so. She’s the one who found out and told Fae. As far as I know. Haven’t spoken to either of them. I can’t think of who would have seen us.”

Suddenly you recalled the week prior when Harry dropped you off and picked you up from work, “My boss. Caressa Fiedler. Does that name sound familiar to you?”

“Yeah. Okay. That makes sense. She must have called my wife. Maybe… told her she saw me.”

You sighed and rubbed your hands up Harry’s arms, “She did see us. She asked if you were my boyfriend but she said you must not be the person she was thinking of because you’re married. So I thought she would just drop it.” You put your hands over your face and groaned, “I’m so stupid. Should have known she wasn’t going to just let it go. That she would figure it out.”

“Hey…” Harry peeled your hands off of your face and wrapped his hands around them, “You’re not stupid. We didn’t expect any of this. But it’s okay. We’ll be okay.”

Harry was soft and patient with you for the rest of the night. He made dinner and kept you close. Kept reassuring you that you two would be okay and it would be worth it all in the end.

And it was the first time that you’d slept in a bed with him that you didn’t have sex. Harry held you close and kissed you but the comfort of his arms around you was all you needed. And it seemed to be all he needed as well. You could tell he was trying to be strong but he was upset too. He was nervous. Your little bubble was about to burst and things were about to get very difficult. But there was no reversing it. Even if you and Harry did break up and stay away it was too late. The damage was done now.

Fae didn’t stop by that night. You kept imagining her banging at your door and telling you both to open up. You imagined her seeing Harry’s car out front and knowing what was going on immediately. Knowing 100% that you and her dad were doing something very wrong and very stupid.

You woke up early the following morning to Harry’s phone chiming with a message. Three in a row. He kissed you and yawned as he rolled over to pick up his phone and sat up. You watched his face as he read the texts and he frowned before looking at you.

“I don’t want you to worry, baby. Okay? They don’t know for sure yet so we can still control the narrative but we need to figure out when to do this. And I mean,” he swallowed and sat his phone down, “It’s gonna be soon. Because that was my wife. She wants to talk.”

You sat up and set your gaze on the painting you had framed above your dresser, “You think she wants to talk about this?”

Harry took your hand in his, “Yeah. She said she talked to Caressa in her text and mentioned that Caressa is your boss. So… she’s letting me know that she knows something. Or she’s assuming she knows something.”

“Already…” you whispered the word as you looked down at your lap in shock. It felt like you’d just begun your tryst with Mr. Styles. But it had been months. Almost six. And you loved all six of those months with him so much that you were about to hurt your best friend and disappoint so many important people in your life because it was going to be worth it. You hoped. It had to be.

Harry pulled you into his side, wrapping his arm around you and leaning back into your headboard, “I love you, Y/n. Whatever you want to do is what we’ll do. Okay? If you want to do it today, or tomorrow, or next week… doesn’t matter. You tell me when you’re ready.”

You turned your face to press into his arm and whined as you spoke, “I don’t want to hurt anyone. Let’s just go away,” you looked up at him, “Like… a little getaway first. Just us. So we can clear our heads and decide the best way to do this and… then we tell them.”

Harry nodded and soothingly smoothed his hand up and down your back, “Sure, baby. If that’s what you want. How about tomorrow afternoon? Can you take the weekend off?”

You nodded, “Yeah. I have Sunday off already. And tomorrow. So I could just call in on Saturday.”

“Then let’s do that. We’ll leave tomorrow. Go out of town. Just me and you.”

You had to work a full shift knowing Caressa had said something to Harry’s wife about you and her husband. But you were curious to know if Caressa learned that the man you were with was indeed who she thought it was. It was possible it was all just speculation. You were certain Caressa hadn’t gotten a good look at Harry. And she didn’t seem all that sure when she asked you about it.

You continued to ignore Fae’s texts and calls but you didn’t know what else to do. Things were getting very complicated. As if they hadn’t been before. But now your silence was probably a dead giveaway to Fae about what was going on.

You packed a bag and weren’t sure what you needed for your little getaway. Harry said he’d take care of the trip details because he didn’t want you stressing or worrying about anything.

He picked you up at your apartment after you got off your shift. The plan was that you would stay at his house. Your car would stay at your apartment and then the next day, Friday, you and Harry would be off on your little getaway and return Sunday evening.

“You’re all wound up, Y/n.” Harry rubbed your shoulders when you two got to his house. He sat you down in a kitchen chair and began to massage your neck gently, “What can I do for you to make you relax a little?”

You shook your head, “Nothing probably. I’m trying to keep myself sane. Just… happy to be going away with you.”

You learned that Harry was taking you to Quebec for the weekend. A nonstop flight would have you there in only a few hours and you two could walk through the pretty city hand in hand and no one would ever know you were with a married man. A man who was not married to you. No one would even care probably. You knew no one in Quebec. It sounded quite ideal actually. A stroll through Old Quebec, romantic dinner, a cozy little hotel room with a big bed, a few bars, and maybe some shopping. You could finally act like a regular couple before it all blew up in your face.

Harry leaned down and kissed the space on your neck below your ear, “I can think of at least one thing that might help you relax a bit. Could help distract you. Relieve some of this tension,” he squeezed your shoulders softly and then slid his hands to the front of your neck and tilted your head back so he could kiss your mouth.

And you found yourself in his big bed before you could even think about what was happening. He took his time with your body. Removing your clothes piece by piece and kissing your soft skin.

“Just lie here, baby. Let me take care of you.” He whispered against your breasts and nosed at your plush skin as he made his way down your body. You could feel his warm skin, his eyelashes, the scruff on his face, his moist lips, and his tongue. His hands.

You were under him completely bare of clothes, while he was still fully dressed. You tried relaxing and letting go. Tried to just let him take over your body and do all those magical things he knew how.

“Still tense, my love,” he looked up at you and ran his hands over your stomach, “Don’t worry. Gonna make sure you feel so relaxed when I’m all done. Okay?”

You nodded as you watched him lower his face between your thighs. He put his hands on your ass and lifted you up toward his face as he pasted his mouth to your cunt. The look in his eyes on yours as he ate you out felt so animalistic. He was determined to get you off. Your thighs were over his shoulders and your hips were lifted up by his hands holding you steady as he fucked you with his tongue and his lips.

“Ohh!” You moaned and closed your eyes when you felt his tongue swirling over your clit in a rigid pattern.

Soon you had forgotten all about what was making you so upset because Harry’s mouth and tongue parting your crease was all you could think of. All you could feel. His moans vibrating off your bones and through your insides had you panting and squirming.

When you had your first orgasm you clenched your thighs together around Harry’s head but it didn’t stop him from working you to your end. Until you were laughing and biting back loud cackles.

Harry lowered your bottom down to the mattress slowly and sat up to look over your pretty body with a moan, “Fucking gorgeous,” he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as he settled back between your legs and pushed your thighs up to your chest. Slowly, and softly he pushed two of his fingers into your cunt knuckles deep. You gasped and watched him but he looked like he was on the job. His brows were stitched together as he watched his fingers disappear and over and over again inside your pussy.

He let out a breath and licked his lips. He looked horny. Looked like he was aching to be inside of you. “You can fuck me, Harry,” you breathed as you bucked your hips upward.

“Oh I will, honey. Just need to make you come again. Want you all over my bed and my hands first. Okay?” His breaths were heavy. You knew him well. He was probably making a bit of a mess of his underwear with precome dribbling out of his pretty tip.

You moaned and nodded. His fingers always felt so good inside of you. Always reached into your bits just right. And you knew you’d be all over his bed and his hands just like he wanted. You were wet. You could feel it dripping down your cheeks. He liked it when you left a little spot under your bottom. Loved getting you all worked up and sloppy.

He gave your clit a moment to recover as he slipped his fingers in and out and watched you. Watched your shiny arousal coat his fingers and knuckles and palm. The sound of it was dirty and gushy.

“Harry!” You shouted as you lifted your neck to look at him when he began to fuck his fingers into you faster. The deep ache had you feeling that tightness in your core that only came about when you squirted. And you weren’t much of a squirter. Except Harry could make you squirt. He didn’t always do it because it was messy and it wasn’t better than an orgasm (you preferred to just come without squirting usually) but you knew that’s what he was doing. What he was aiming for.

“Hold on baby…” he spoke his words with clenched teeth as he looked from your face to your pussy. He released your legs and continued poking into you with his fingers at a fast pace as he added his other hand and quickly rubbed over your clit.

You began to shake and moan loudly, “Harry! Oh god!”

“Fffuck…” Harry groaned as he watched little splashes begin to spurt out and then he pulled his fingers out of you, a gush over your thighs and onto his comforter, and bits of your creamy dribble on his hand. He continued rubbing over your clit as you shouted uncontrollably and released involuntarily.

You kind of hated squirting. Though it did always leave you feeling limp and pliable after. Kind of wore you out. The biggest reason you hated it was that you weren’t in control of your body. The way you trembled and how loud you were… of course the spraying liquid part was uncomfortable too. And it didn’t always result in you actually having an orgasm. It was just really intense and it didn’t hurt, but it felt strange. Felt like something forced out of your body without you doing it.

You gasped and heaved your chest as Harry wiped you up. Your clit was sensitive and you jumped when he dabbed at you, “Sorry, baby.” He laughed. He wasn’t sorry. You rolled your eyes at him and shook your head.

“Feel a little better?” He asked you as he tossed the towel to the floor. You nodded.

“Yeah. But I want your come. That will really seal the deal for me.”

Harry breathed a laugh through his nose as he stood from the bed and removed his clothes.

“Gonna give you whatever you want, baby. Want my come? It’s all yours anyway,” he smiled at you, those dimples digging into his cheeks. God you loved him.

Harry crawled over you, his dick swaying as he adjusted himself above you. And you were right. He’d been steadily leaking precome. His cock was damp. You grasped him in your hand and sat up, “Let me have a little,” you dipped down and swiped your tongue over his slit and then stuffed him into your mouth as deep as you could get on the first go.

Harry whined and reached his hand to the back of your head, “My angel girl. Fucking perfect, baby,” You drooled a bit, saliva dripping down his shaft as you bobbed over him and sucked him in, swallowing what you could down your throat. You loved the taste of him. Loved how warm he was in your mouth.

Suddenly Harry pushed you up so you were forced to release his cock, and his face was flushed as he breathed heavily, “I want that pussy. Okay? Need to be inside of you.”

You nodded and sat back, “How do you want me?”

His soft smile widened, “Was just gonna ask you the same. What do you need right now?”

You shrugged and put your hand on his thigh as you looked up at him, “You could do anything to me, Harry. I love how you fuck me no matter what position.”

He groaned and pulled you into his chest before he pressed his mouth against yours. You felt every ounce of his love as he slowly kissed you, his tongue smoothing into yours, his lips puckering around yours and his hands holding you close. Harry was on his haunches, legs folded under himself as you climbed over him and rocked yourself into his cock.

Harry put his hands on your ass and smushed you into his shaft as he continued kissing you slowly.

You both writhed together, your labia kissing his foreskin, wetting the underside of his cock as you lid yourself against him. But then he leaned into you, making your back hit the mattress. Your thighs were still over his as he thrusted gently through your folds until he had pushed at you so he could finally fit himself into your hole. Slowly pushing past your little wet muscle and spreading your insides apart as he drove into you.

The whine that fell from his mouth had you popping your eyes open to make sure he was okay. Harry’s mouth was dropped open in a small smile and his eyes were closed as he tilted his head back and began to fuck into you deeply. You grasped onto his thighs and put your feet flat on the mattress and worked yourself over him, circling your hips slowly as he buried himself into you with his hips rocking forward. You pushed against his thrusts as he fucked into you. You wanted it to feel so good for him. Wanted him to explode into you. Wanted him to come harder than he ever had.

Harry opened his eyes and finally looked at your face, “Fuck, baby. That feels so good.”

You nodded and continued circling your hips, “I know it. Feels perfect with you inside of me like this.”

He massaged his hands slowly up your thighs to your hips and tummy. He leaned over you as he continued rolling into you and grasped your tits in his palm. With his angle over you, his pelvis jammed into your clit with each rock of his hips and you moaned, gripping his thighs harder to keep your clit pressed into his body.

“Oh god… Y/n your pussy is just begging for my come. Needs to get filled and loaded. Yeah?”

“Yes! Harry, I need it… Need you to come inside of me. Want you to feel good,” you breathed your words as Harry released your tits and grabbed your hands from his thighs. He pressed your hands down into the mattress next to your head and didn’t let up from shoving himself into you with each thrust.

Harry moaned lowly as he kept his eyes on yours. He wanted to watch your face as he fucked you. Wanted to see you come on his cock. He enjoyed watching you come undone. Loved how affected you were by him. Harry’s tip reached deep as he kept his hips pasted against yours, stuffing himself inward until he couldn’t get any deeper. His back and his arms were flexing with every move into you. His solid body above yours slowly started to tremble with ecstasy.

“Oh! Harry! You’re really in there deep, oh god…” your body was receiving all of him. His cock slipping deeply inside, his eyes on yours, his hands grasping your hands, his pelvis nudged into your clit…

“I know baby, feels so good with my cock in there like this doesn’t it?” His words were tensed as was his body as he spoke. You could tell he was about to burst. But he was a gentleman so he’d always make sure you came first.

Harry had repositioned you so that you were flat on the mattress and he was in between your spread legs as he railed into you deeply and slowly. His grunts were getting louder as he neared his end, but he kept his eyes on yours and his hands held your own down, his fingers between yours.

“Yes! Oh fuck,” you felt the blissful beginning of what you knew would be a big orgasm. Something that would have your body wrecked when he was done with you. Which is exactly what he intended.

The slick gushing noises that came from between your bodies told you that you were drenched and soaking the blanket under you. You couldn’t tell at that moment but it would be all wet and need to be cleaned up before you could lie in it for bedtime. Which tended to be normal when Harry fucked you like he did.

“Fuck, honey…” Harry groaned softly and ground into you, his pelvis against your clit. He kept himself buried into you, his hips pressed into yours until you snapped and cried out.

“OH! Harry!” Your brain melted as you spasmed around his cock and gasped for breath. The intensity of your orgasm was everything you needed. You could feel him moving inside of you as you clamped over him tightly and he groaned out as he began to come.

His thick, hard cock pumped into you. He moaned deeply in rhythm with his thrusts and pressed his mouth over yours as he slowly calmed from his exquisite orgasm. He loved fucking you and coming in you. And every time you two had sex it only felt better.

“Oh honey, so fucking good,” he kissed you and released your hands, putting his finger up to your face and gently cupping your jaw as he rutted into you one last time for good measure.

You yelped a laugh at his movement and wrapped your legs around his low back kissing him back slowly as you put your arms around his back.

Everything felt so safe and perfect with him. You knew that things were about to get hard but you knew you could get through it if you had Harry by your side. He promised you things would be okay and you believed him. Believed that he was right. How could you not believe him? What choice did you have anyway? You two were going to have to go through with what was to come and it was definitely coming. The breaks could be applied and there was no stopping Fae and her mother from finding out the whole truth. And now that they suspected you and Harry were fucking? It was only a matter of days probably.

Harry laughed softly and spoke into your ear, “Don’t fall asleep just yet my love. Need to clean up and change the sheets.”

You groaned and opened your eyes, “Not my fault. That’s all you.”

Harry nuzzled his face into your neck and kissed your skin, “I just want you to feel good and sleep soundly tonight. Hate seeing you worried.”

You tightened your arms around him and hummed, “Same. I just want you happy, Harry.”

Harry pushed himself up and smiled down at you, “I am happy, honey. I’m so happy with you.”

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