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sweetestdesire · 2 months

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JUST A KISS

WARNINGS: hair pulling, extreme domination, degrading speech, innocence kink, etc. 18+ readers only

PAIRING(S): Trevor Zegras × Fem!Reader

SUMMARY: in which all Fem!Reader wanted was a kiss.

"It's strange that in the three years we've known each other we've never once tried to get it on." Trevor absently stroked Y/N's hair, his fingers combing through the strands. She laid with her head on his lap and her legs extended along the length of the couch. "Why's that, do you think?"

The sound of cheering drifted from the game playing on the TV and empty dishes from their takeout dinner littered the coffee table. The curtains were closed, a lamp on the side table throwing a wide arc of light over his living room.

Y/N smiled, her eyes drifting shut as his fingers raked through her hair. "Because you're a shameless man-whore who uses phrases like 'get it on.' That's why."

Trevor chuckled and toyed with the sapphire stud in her ear. "That explains why you haven't thrown yourself at me. Pretty judgmental on your behalf, by the way, but it doesn't explain why I haven't tried to lure you into bed."

Y/N opened her eyes and looked up at him, taking in his messy hair, his sensual mouth and eyes. His good looks combined with his outgoing personality meant most women wanted him within five minutes of meeting him. He'd always used his warmth and charm to his advantage, so why had he never tested his abilities on her?

It didn't take her long to come up with the reason for his behavior. "I think it's because you respect me." Y/N said.

Trevor let out an amused breath. "I don't want to sleep with you because I respect you?"

Y/N smiled at the humor in his tone. The more she thought about it the more it made sense. He had so many options when it came to women that he'd never needed or wanted to push the boundaries with her. Their friendship had grown and she now counted him as one of the most important people in her life. It would only take one quick test to prove he felt the same way about her.

She pushed herself up to a kneeling position and faced him, wrapping her fingers around his wrist. "Watch, I'll prove it to you." His expression turned wary as she guided his hand towards her. "Touch my boobs." Y/N said.

Trevor let out a shocked laugh and lifted his arm above his head. "No! What the fuck, Y/N? I'm not touching your boobs."

Y/N arched her back, pushing her breasts out in invitation. It took all of her control to keep the smile from her face. She shouldn't enjoy teasing him so much, but the look on his face was priceless. "Why not?"

"Because..." Trevor's gaze roamed her body, drifting over the t-shirt moulded to her breasts, moving further down to the legs revealed by her black shorts. His chest rose and fell with deep breaths. His hand flexed in hers, still above his head. He took a slow tour back up her body and met her eyes again, letting out a frustrated breath. "Because you're good and decent and I fucking respect you, okay? Jesus Christ, Y/N. You've given me such a hard-on."

Y/N released his wrist, trying her damnedest not to laugh. "Sorry."

He flicked a sideways glance at her and nudged her leg with his knee. The barest hint of a smile appeared. "I can tell when you're being sincere, you know. That's not your sorry face."

Y/N let out the laugh she'd been struggling to hold in and relaxed beside him, resting her hand on his thigh. "You're the one who should be apologizing. You don't want to sleep with me because you think I'm too nice. How insulting is that?"

"Let's not start hurling accusations, okay? You called me a dirty man-whore."

"I did not say 'dirty,' and I mean, if the shoe fits, I don't know what else to tell you."

"That's it." Trevor growled and dragged her over him to straddle his thighs, grabbing both of her hands in his. He held her still and stared her down, attempting a glare that didn't look as scary as it was supposed to because he kept fighting against a smile. "Take it back, Y/N."

Y/N couldn't resist sending him a smirk just to stir him up some more. "Or what?"

He'd placed her too far back on his legs for her to feel his erection, but after seeing the heat in his eyes she'd bet almost anything it was still there. A sudden urge came over her to slide closer and find out for sure. "I'll hold you down and tickle you until you do. We both know how that'll turn out."

Y/N had always ended up a squirming mess on the floor with tears streaming down her face. She had no desire to be put through that again right now. She shook her head swiftly and clamped her elbows against her sides. "I didn't mean what I said, okay? You're pure and wholesome and proper."

"Too late now, my feelings are hurt. You're going to have to find a way to make it up to me."

Y/N snorted and tried to pull her hands free. "I bet I can guess what you have in mind."

Trevor tugged her towards him and smiled as he kissed the tip of her nose. "If I didn't know better l'd think you were coming onto me. It's a pity you're not my type."

"You might want to tell that to your little friend. I don't think he got the memo."

Trevor let out a bark of laughter. He released her hands and curved his palms around her waist, pulling her closer. She settled over his lap, the snug position leaving no doubt about whether or not his erection had subsided.

His laughter quietened and the mood shifted between them. Their eyes met and she smiled, overwhelmed by the affection she felt for him. Y/N reached out to stroke his cheek and he moved his head slightly, as if he wanted to turn his face into her palm but thought better of it.

"Have you ever wondered what we'd be like together?" Y/N asked softly.

His thumbs swept over the curve of her hips. "I told you before, you're kind and sweet and all I want at this point in my life is wild, no-strings-attached sex. Those two don't go together."

"You've never once thought of me in that way?"

His gaze flicked to her mouth. "I mean, l've pictured you naked if that counts."

She tucked her hair behind her ear. "Really?"

"Yeah." Trevor reached up and tapped her chin with his forefinger. "Oh, c'mon. Don't look so pleased with yourself. I'm a man, it's what we do."

Y/N let out a breathy laugh and tipped her head slightly to one side, her gaze traveling over him while she tried to decide if her next question would cross any kind of line. "Will you let me try something?" She asked. "Just out of curiosity?"

"Such as?"

"I want to kiss you."

His eyes narrowed. "Why?"

"I don't know, I guess I just want to know what its like between us. Just one kiss, nothing more. You can even hold my hands again to make sure I don't feel you up."

Trevor raised his brows. "And what if I want to be felt up?"

She raised her brows back at him. "Then you can let go of my hands."

Trevor kept his eyes on hers and grabbed her wrists, guiding them behind her back. He clamped them together at the base of her spine, holding her tightly. The change in position caused her breasts to thrust out mere inches from his mouth. His gaze lowered for just a fraction of a second, letting her know it hadn't gone unnoticed.

Her attention dropped to his lips. Y/N tried to imagine what it would feel like kissing him for the first time in a way that wouldn't be classed as platonic. His mouth was firm and sensual, so inviting. Why had she never noticed that before? Her humor disappeared and she swallowed hard. Trevor watched her closely, his eyes taking everything in.

"What?" Y/N asked, feeling as if she'd suddenly lost her footing.

"Nothing. It's just..." Trevor gave her wrists a firm tug and she sucked in a breath. "This is turning you on."

She let out a harsh sigh. "I can't help it. I'm a woman, we get turned on over a new pair of shoes. It doesn't mean anything."

His mouth lifted at one corner. "You realize this is going to change everything between us, right?"

Y/N shook her head. "It won't. I care too much about you to let that happen." She moistened her lower lip and leaned closer. "I know you feel the same way."

"Still, Y/N."

"Relax, Trevor." She pressed her lips to his cheek, letting them linger there for a while, soaking up the warmth of his skin.

Faint traces of his clean, crisp cologne drifted towards her, teasing her senses. His free hand swept up and down her arm, leaving shivers in its wake. Y/N leaned back and took her time looking him over, drinking in the view of him while she decided where her mouth should go next.

Trevor gazed up at her, his expression filled with amusement. "Are we done?"

Y/N smiled and touched her lips to his cheek. "Not even a little bit."

She grew bolder and moved her mouth to his neck, leaving a trail of light, sucking kisses over his throat; a gentle lick here, a nibble there. His pulse beat strong and steadily, his chin lifting to allow her easier access. Her mouth travelled up to the curve of his jaw and his whiskers prickled against her lips.

Y/N pressed a soft kiss there, then another, reveling in the masculine feel of him. "You smell good." She said, nuzzling his throat.

His response vibrated against her lips. Y/N nibbled his ear and flicked her tongue at the lobe. She knew she shouldn't torment him in this way, but the more she touched him, the more of him she wanted to touch. His hand kept both of hers secured behind her back and she strained against his hold, needing physical contact with him.

Her breasts pressed against his chest and a low growl rumbled in his throat, her heartbeat quickening at the sound. Trevor's grip tightened, his strength causing a sudden, inexplicable craving inside her.

"Y/N, if you don't get this over with quick," Trevor said, his voice growing huskier, "I might get the impression that you're a fucking cock-tease."

Oh, God. The sound of his deep voice uttering the word 'cock' had a jolt of pleasure rushing through her. Y/N pulled back to look into his eyes, surprised by the need she saw there. With his clenched jaw and his steely hardness beneath her, she knew it would only take the slightest encouragement from her to throw them both into chaos.

Her hands jerked in his, she wanted them free so she could touch him. Somehow knowing he wouldn't let her go only heightened the confusing feelings crashing around inside her. His hips shifted beneath her, bringing her into closer contact with his erection. Her breathing turned shallow and she closed her eyes, fighting the need to moan.

How could Y/N be feeling this way when they'd barely touched? She hadn't even kissed him properly yet. It suddenly hit her and she drew in a sharp breath.

"I lied, you know." Y/N said, opening her eyes and staring at him in wonder. She'd not only fooled him with her words, but herself as well. "I want more."

"I know." Trevor released her wrists and they sat watching one another. The tension in the air had become unbearable. "Don't blame me when it all turns to shit."

"It won't."

"We'll see." Trevor sank his fingers into her hair, dragged her against him and crushed his mouth to hers.

Y/N barely had time to brace herself before it all spiralled out of control. She hung on and kissed him back, thrusting her tongue against his. One hand plunged into his hair while the other wound around his neck. Her knees clamped either side of his thighs and she pressed down against his erection. His answering groan had desire surging inside her. There were no teasing touches now; it was all heat and hunger. She wanted him. She wanted all of him.

Trevor slid one palm down her spine, curving over her ass. He squeezed her flesh and moved his mouth to her throat, leaving quick kisses over flushed skin. "Fucked if I know what's happening here,” he said, lifting his head to look into her eyes, "but God, do I want you."

The intensity in his gaze left her breathless. Y/N gasped and pressed her mouth to his, her tongue plunging between his lips, her hands roaming his body. Heat radiated off him and his muscles flexed beneath her fingers. His strength aroused her in a way she'd never thought possible. She hadn't looked at him in this light before. Now she couldn't imagine seeing him any other way.

Trevor's mouth left hers just long enough for him to grab the hem of her t-shirt, drag it up her body and toss it aside. She sat before him in her shorts and a blue lace bra, her hair draped over one shoulder, her lips swollen.

Breathless and needy, Y/N reached for him again. Trevor groaned and kissed her hard, flicking open the clasp on her bra and whipping it from her body. His hand closed over her bare breast, massaging her flesh, his thumb sweeping across her nipple. A thrill shot through her and she pressed herself to him, holding him tight. Her tongue caressed his, her fingers digging into his shoulders.

Trevor pushed himself off the couch and took her with him. He helped her to her feet and worked on her zipper, shoving her shorts and panties over her hips. He pulled her to him again, giving her the impression he didn't want to let her go for more than a few seconds. It only made her want him more.

"Oh, God. Trevor, I need you so fucking bad." Y/N stepped from her puddled clothes and grabbed fistfuls of his t-shirt, peeling it over his head.

Their lips met again and she poured everything into the kiss. Y/N fumbled with the button on his jeans, dragging them open. Before she could free his erection, he lifted her in his arms and gripped her ass.

"Bed." Trevor said against her mouth. "Upstairs."

Y/N clutched his body, linking her ankles at his back and sinking her hands into his hair. Trevor walked with her into the hallway, took a couple more steps towards the stairs. She slid her fingers into his pants and clasped his erection, squeezing his length.

Trevor let out a deep groan and shoved his boxer briefs over his erection. He stood with her wrapped around him, one hand clasping the back of her neck. The other hand gripped his cock, rubbing it slowly up and down her damp pussy.

Y/N tucked her face in against his throat and released a strangled cry as he guided it inside her. She pushed her hips towards him to meet the thick glide of his cock, her eyes closing as he filled her. Exhilaration and arousal had her pulse racing, her skin flushing. Her stomach reeled with pleasure.

Trevor pulled back and drove into her again, his breaths harsh, his body tense as she took him in. He made his way to the foot of the stairs and leaned down, his palm flattening against a carpeted step while his other hand took her weight.

Y/N felt the press of the stairs against her back, the tension in his muscles beneath her fingertips. She lifted her chin and looked into his eyes; they were fiery in their intensity, roaming her face, her breasts, taking everything in. He sank into her and retreated again.

"Fuck, Trevor. You feel so good." His thrusts pushed her back against the stairs, the carpet abrading her skin. His chest brushed against her nipples, hardening them to tingling points.

Trevor watched her closely, spotting the tears on her cheeks. She could barely hold her eyes open from the pleasure, but she noticed the worry come across his face. Y/N moaned lightly, trying to signal him she was okay. He leaned in and kissed her, his quick breaths expelling against her cheek. The sensations overwhelmed her. She needed to cum. She needed it so badly. He plunged inside her over and over, his movements so deep, so forceful, she knew it wouldn't take long.

Y/N hooked her hands over the backs of his shoulders and met his thrusts with bucking hips. A groan rumbled in his throat and he kissed her harder, his fingers gripping her ass. His speed increased and she felt it building inside her. Her stomach dipped and her back arched. She tore her mouth from his and tilted her head. Trevor's lips moved to her throat and she dragged in a breath as it came over her. It crashed in a wave that sucked her under, had her shaking, pulsing around him.

"Oh, God." Her thighs clenched and she held on tight. The tip of his tongue traced the length of her throat. Desire surged and her hips lifted. Y/N let out a loud sigh and collapsed, trembling, against his supporting arm.

"Shit, Y/N." Trevor's thrusts eased to a slow grind and he pressed his mouth to hers.

His lips moved softly, his tongue caressing hers. Knowing he was close had excitement building inside her all over again. His stomach muscles tightened and with a quiet groan he shuddered and came inside her. Y/N's eyes closed and her heart pounded as he gave one final shove, his sound of surrender one of the most erotic things she'd ever heard.

"Cum for me, baby." Trevor managed to stutter out. She all but screamed in relief as the words registered.

With perfect timing, waves of pleasure rolled through her body, pulsating through her core. Y/N cried out as she stopped fighting. He kept her leg in place as her orgasm took over, her juices pouring out of her and soaking the carpet beneath her.

"Good girl." Trevor's voice sounded far in the distance despite their closeness, his praise only heightening her climax. She almost felt like she was almost going in and out of consciousness as she rode out the longest and hardest climax she'd ever had.

Even after everything they'd shared, after everything he'd made her feel, all she could think now was more. His mouth leit hers and she wrapped her arms around him, resting her lips against the racing pulse in his throat.

Her eyes remained closed as she panted, trying to catch her breath. She moaned loudly as Trevor slowly pulled his cock out from her throbbing, sensitive pussy. Exhaustion over took her, her mind and body felt different than they ever had.

"Y/N, are you alright?" Trevor whispered to her gently. She nodded as best she could, unable to find the words.

Trevor braced himself on one elbow while he recovered and Y/N's eyes opened as the silence settled over them. She considered how this might change their relationship, her stomach churning at the thought of what he might be feeling right now. He'd warned her it would change everything between them, she just hoped it didn't change things for the worse.

Y/N whimpered as she felt him scoop her up in his arms and place her into his lap. She buried her face in his chest, his warmth like a security blanket around her. She felt like she was going through every emotion imaginable, like everything in her needed that release.

Trevor rested his forehead against hers and Y/N held her breath while she waited for him to speak. The seconds were torturous as they ticked away. His palms clasped her face and he eventually let out a sigh.

"What the hell was that?" Trevor whispered.

Y/N let out the breath she'd been holding, the humor in his tone helping alleviate her fears. She bit her lip and smiled, trying to control the hope rising inside her. "I don't know, I've never experienced anything like that before. I wish l'd thrown myself at you years ago."

Trevor chuckled and kissed her cheek, his lips lingering on her skin. "It answers one question at least." He said.

"What's that?"

"You look even better naked than I imagined."

Y/N laughed and threaded her arms around his neck, pressing a quick kiss on his mouth. When she meant to pull away, Trevor cradled the back of her head and urged her closer, taking the kiss deeper.

Their lips moved together, his hand sinking into her hair to keep her near. The warmth of his touch eased her worries and set her mind at rest. They both cared about one other, of that much Y/N was sure. With that as a basis to build on, she knew they'd find a way to make this work.

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trashmouth-richie · 7 months

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𝚕𝚎𝚝’𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚔𝚎𝚎𝚙 𝚜𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚎

older! college coach! steve x fem! reader

summary: your mysterious coach was always hot headed and pushed you harder than the other girls, after losing an important game, you both find ways to release your frustrations.

triggers: 18+ ; steve is thirty and reader is early twenties and plays basketball in college. smut, light use of pet names, no y/n, steve is a dick to reader and has a huge one, biting, hickies, p in v no condom. Very slight mention of blood, indication of simp behavior at the end.

“Hustle girls!”

“Box her out!”

“Are you fucking kidding me 22?”

His workout tank was ringed dark around the hem of the neck, glistening drops of sweat travel from the column of his neck down into the gray cotton blend fabric.

He was pissed. When wasn’t he?

A rogue strand of hair escapes from the style he had down to a science, red blotches flashed across his cheeks and neck, veins poked out from his vacation tanned skin.

Last night's game ended horribly. And today you were all paying the price for it.

With only 10 seconds left on the clock in the 4th quarter, the play he had drawn up on the marker board was the exact same one you had been practicing since your first year at college. Only this time you were getting the ball after Mel faked to Blair, with just enough time to shoot that beautiful three point shot you had been perfecting since high school.

The squeak from the black expo marker under his thick fingers wrote out his code: Hawkins for the play that was drilled into your brain by coach for the last year.

“Run it just how we’ve been practicing, I’m telling you it’ll work.”

Mel’s fake out didn’t work and you had gotten the ball late. Each dribble from the floorboards into your sweaty palm felt like a heartbeat. The girl guarding you swatted at the ball, missing just barely as she attempted to make a steal, trying to force you to foul her when she had the ball to waste more time and grant you your fourth foul, ending your playing time.

A quick move around her and a cross to your left hand had her stumbling over her ankles like Bambi, and you cut to the three point line, lined up your Nike’s to the hoop like your dad had taught you, and arched the ball into the air.

The buzzer was blaring when the orange ball left your finger tips, tongue poking out and your ponytail fluttering behind you. the gymnasium lights were hospital white, piercing your eyes and making you see dots as you landed on your feet, your competitor reaching for the ball at the last second.

Anticipation filled your lungs as the ball circled around and around the rim. The girls and coach all rose from the bench and waited with hands on their heads or holding hands watching the ball spin.

And with a sick twist, it fell out. Landing to the floor with a silent thud as the bleachers erupted into a nascar loud roar.

Bulldogs: 60 Pirates: 58

He was furious.

Clipboards snapped on his khaki thighs as you all sat on the wooden benches of the sweaty walled locker room. He didn’t yell, he didn’t speak to anyone other than glaring into the ceiling.

“Pack your shit, bus leaves in five.”

No times for showering or debriefing, you and your teammates were hustled to the bus as he snapped his fingers, let’s go let’s go let’s go!

Refusing to let the bus driver stop to get water or any sort of snacks on the way home. “They don’t deserve it.” He preened, looking at your sad faces with a disapproval that cut so deep it had some of the girls in tears.

His mossy green eyes stopped on yours and the disappointment brewed to hatred, his eyes burning emerald, he blew air through his nose and clenched his knuckles, “none of them.”

Mel had thrown up twice during Coach’s infamous Hellfire Sprints. Her and her boyfriend Trevor, who was practically your 5th suitemate, had stayed up until dawn doing pulls from a tequila bottle and hitting his dab pen.

You hadn’t slept either.

Laying on top of your comforter with wet hair and lotion slicked skin, racking your brain with how the shot felt a tiny bit off from your fingers, how coach’s eyes looked like a fucking demon’s when he glared at you on the bus.

How the Sunday morning practice, which was usually laid back and games of pig and watching game tape, was going to be hell on earth.

“22 if I have to tell you one more time to move your ass I’m cutting you from this team do you hear me?”

You rolled your eyes as you pushed yourself faster to touch the black line, beating out the other girls by a full few seconds.

After the sixth set of sprints he had you all go to the workout room and max out on squats. Your legs shook and nearly buckled under the heavy weights. And all he did was stand behind you and tell you how pathetic you looked, he shook his head and scoffed.

“We’re gonna stay here all day til you rack this up, don’t care if you fall on your ass— you’ll do it.”

His breath fanning your ear drove you mad. Spearmint gum and that rich boy cologne he always wore stung your nose as you grunted in defiance.

Through bared teeth and burning lungs you extend your legs to stand.

You wanted to kick him in the dick, make him shut the fuck up for once, but you bit your tongue. Driving the bar up and slamming it loud against the rack Looking back at him with a glare in your eyes, you wouldn’t let a single tear wet your eyes, never giving him the satisfaction.

He looked you up and down quickly, but his eyes felt like hot pokers dragging against your skin. Before he crossed over to another one of your teammates to add more weight to their bar, he dipped his head, and muttered just above a whisper, “Thatta girl.”

You didn’t know much about him but what you did know was that he kept to himself.

Coach Harrington was only a few years older than you, he had a small mustache that he more than likely grew to make himself look a little older than he was.

From what your suitemates had found out by spending hours scouring online archives from his hometown local newspaper to his social media footprint that didn’t exist— and even going as far to stalking his ex girlfriends Instagram— he had played college ball at Perdue for two years before blowing out his knee and ending a full ride scholarship and any rumored possibility of making it to the NBA.

From locker room gossip, you had learned that he drove a black Jeep Wagoneer, and lived in one of the newer apartments downtown.

The university had paid double what they had for the last coach's salary to get Harrington through the doors. The athletic director, Mr. Hopper, had picked him to coach because he was one of the best. But all he was to you was a fucking asshole.

The other girls had ooed and awed over him, the other teams coaches flirted with him before the games, trying to get his number and find out more about the brooding coiffed hair hottie. And maybe you would feel different about him if he wasn’t such a raging prick.

But he wouldn’t budge.

He didn’t get personal with anyone on the team, barely even talked to his assistant Dustin. Refusing to call anyone by anything other than their jersey number or their last name.

Practice lasted for three hours. And by the end of it his voice was hoarse and gruff. Having screamed practically during the entire time.

It wasn’t anything new. He was always high strung and losing his shit when it came to the girls, but mostly you bore the brunt of his anger.

He always used you as an example on what not to do.

“You’re doing it wrong 22,” he’d bellow, his voice echoing loud across the empty gym, his arms crossed tight across his chest, muscles popping under the strain of his tight gray shirt, “drive to the left then cut right, this isn’t fucking hard… do it again.”

You did as you were told, fighting through anger that seeped through your skin and riddled your face with shaking muscles of anger, a twitch to your eye.

You were pissed and had had enough. Not only were you the youngest captain your school had ever seen, you were averaging triple doubles nearly every game.

Showing up to practice early to shoot free throws and leaving late to make sure all the equipment was put away. Spending weekends in the gym running drills or pushing weights instead of at the nearest rager popping pills and snorting coke like everyone else your age.

You put in the work and it showed, but he couldn’t see it.

It was equally frustrating and heartbreaking.

When practice was finally through and all of the girls had either thrown up, left mid practice to go to the nurse or screamed that they were quitting, the locker room was an endless groan. Muscles were slicked over with the menthol burn of icy hot, and sore shoulders wrapped with bags of ice. Tape was torn from ankles and jammed fingers wadded up and tossed into a nearby waste bin. Sniffles were heard from some players and you stood in a sports bra and shorts when Coach Harrington entered the locker room.

“Don’t get too comfortable, we’ll be back here in 3 hours to run more Hellfire Sprints.”

The girls groaned and slammed lockers, bitching under the breath.

“Hey!” Coach Harrington shouted, a thin vein bulging in his forehead, matching the ones in his arms, as he stood with his hands on his hips, the retro fit of his athletic pants swishing under his thick hands. “You want someone to bitch to? You can thank your captain.”

The room falls silent as all eyes land on you. And your breath hitches in your throat, cheeks burning with embarrassment.

“Me?” You question, “what the hell did I do?”

“The question you should be asking yourself is what you didn’t do. How did you sleep last night knowing you blew that game for your teammates?”

A gasp escapes from your lips and you stare at your Air Forces to hide your pained expression.

“Now, the rest of you get recharged, be back here at 5 o’clock, I don’t want any excuses.” As the room starts to file out, through the heavy wood door, Coach Harrington still stands in the middle of the room, eyes burning holes into your skull, “22 meet me in my office in 10, we need to discuss your position on this team.” He turned on his heel and headed through the doors, pushing them open with a straight arm and his pants swishing down the hallway,

You wait til everyone has gone, Mel giving you a slap on the shoulder, her skin unusually pale on her olive complexion under her charcoal braids, “good luck.”

Lifting your chin you nod and wave, throwing an oversized crew neck over your head and pushing your arms through the holes. Gym bag strewn over your shoulder and you pull your socks up a bit before making the long trek down to Coach Harrington’s office.

Contemplating what you would do when you walked through his office and he kicked you off the team, your long basketball career over because your coach couldn’t fucking stand you.

Never in all your life had you had a coach like him. He pushed you to the limits and started to make you despise the sport altogether.

And since you were about to be booted off the team, you didn’t have anything to lose.

The gold plate reading: Coach S. Harrington- Women’s Basketball on the large mahogany door nestled between the cream cinder block walls almost made your stomach lurch. He never asked anyone to come to his office, not even when Zoey got pregnant last semester and had to quit.

Nerves shook your fist as you knocked on his door, your other hand fumbling your car keys around the silver ring.

“Yeah.” He barked curtly, anything but friendly.

Turning the enormous brass knob, you keep your eyes to the floor when you step into his office. For being down an abandoned hallway, it was almost cozy. The walls were painted fire engine red to match your school's colors. His college degree was framed and hanging on one wall, along with signed pictures of Michael Jordan that you knew cost more than your car.

The oak desk was neat with a MacBook and cup of pens and pencils. A markerboard hung the expanse of one wall covered in scribbled plays and code names.

It smelled like musky expensive leather and cologne and neatly stacked paper Pictures from his glory days were on the shelf behind him, and he cleared his throat when you stared at him flying through the air towards a hoop.

His hair was messy, tufts of brown sticking up, like his fingers had been raking through it so many times out of frustration that the flexible gel wasn’t holding anymore.

He peers at his screen without making eye contact with you, fingers tapping noisily on the keys.

“Do you hate basketball?”

His question has your head spinning. And when you don’t answer right away he asks again.

“N-no,” you stutter, voice shaky and on the verge of screaming at his stupid question.

“Sure about that?” He seethes, still not looking up from his laptop as he clicks away furiously on the keyboard, “The way you played last night could have fooled me.”

Moon shapes indent your palm as you try to keep it together without ripping his head off like a praying mantis “It was a mistake.”

“We don’t make elementary mistakes,” he says slamming his laptop closed and peering over his desk at you through his thick eyebrows, “a fucking third grader could have ran that play better than you did.”

Your throat is dry and chalky as you try to stick up for yourself, being accustomed to keeping rage boiled hot in your belly, “I-I’m..”

His torment continues, pointing around the room at the awards from the last few years, “We’re a nationally ranked team, and your performance last night was embarrassing, and pathetic!”

A single tear threatens to slip down your cheek, and he notices the watery look in your eye, and licks his lip, but he keeps going.

“I expected more out of you, 22– you let your team down last night, and most importantly, me.”

You burst before the dam does, annoyed and sick of his threats, sick of his constant nitpicking of every move yoj make, “That’s not anything new.”

“Excuse me?”

“You treat me like I’m a dog! It’s almost like you want me to quit, you don’t bitch at any of the other girls like you do to me, and I’m tired of it!”

“Watch your mouth.” He points, eyes squinted and nostrils flared.

“No! I work my ass off for you, come in early and stay late. My game has improved and I’m top of the charts for scoring and rebounds, yet you fucking hound me and are constantly cutting me down.”

He doesn’t say anything so you keep going.

“Last night could have ended with us winning and you wouldn’t give a flying fuck, you’d still make us run your dumbass drills, you’d still wake up and find something wrong with what I do— stop taking your failed career out on me!”

he slams his fist into his desk and stands up quickly, the picture frames wiggle as his chair hits the shelf. He crosses the small office in one long legged step coming to stand before you as your back hits against the heavy door, he points a thick finger into your face.

You struck the last fragile nerve he had like a guitar player busting a string playing a solo. Any reserve he had left was gone, his eyes clouded over into hue deeper than a dark forest.

His hot breath fans your cheek, spearmint intensely strong with each bite of his words.

“Don’t you ever talk to me about my personal life again, you got that? You,” he surges pointing into your shoulder, “are supposed to be a leader for this team, and right now you’re acting like a spoiled fucking brat not getting her way.”

The tear you were holding back spills over over your lashes and, his eyes break from yours to watch its southward path on from your cheek to your chin. A low grown rumbles in his throat.

“I’m not a brat!” you scream at him, wiping your cheek hastily, “you’re crazy, and we all hate you!”

His eyes stay moody and dark as he peers into your face down the slope of his nose, “really?” he says no louder than a whisper, “you hate me huh?”

A thick hand wraps around your ponytail, and his body crowds yours into the door, back flat as it would go despite your curves.

Your breathing is erratic, bubbled into your throat with anxiety like you might throw up. His face is so close to yours you can see the definition of each of his eyelashes, and tiny flecks of gold in his eyes.

He’s staring at you with pure hatred, like he’d kill you if ever given the chance, and you’re almost embarrassed by the way your pussy clenches.

“Say it again,” he murmurs, mouth barely moving and barely an inch from your own, his eyes only leave yours when your mouth opens to speak.

“I fucking hate you, Coach Harring—”

His mouth slams into yours with such force your teeth clack together and the taste of blood trickles on your tongue. Your back is pushed flush against the door, likely to bruise from the force alone.

His full weight is pressed against you, his taut body firm and rocked with muscles. He locks your hips in place with alarge hand, fingers gripping your skin beneath your sweater.

Firm and taking what he wants without a second thought, his lips are intoxicating. The roughness of his mustache tickles your lip in an itching way, more than likely leaving a burn behind in his feverish take on your mouth.

His hair is soft in your grip, and you nearly roll your eyes thinking about his hair care routine, but you find yourself rolling your eyes in a different way when you feel his cock bulging through his pants.

Thick and heavy against your thigh, if you had to take a guess it was probably as veiny as his forearms were. And you stifle a moan when it kicks up.

His teeth bite at your lip and you yelp in pain, a noise that only drives him further into you, his hand tightens around your ponytail and yanks your neck further back so your head hits the door.

His shirt is fisted into your hand and you pull him further into you, sliding your tongue against his—sharing the taste of your fresh blood and his spearmint spit.

You scratch at his scalp with your dull nails and he fights back a melty groan.

“Such a fucking brat.” He breathes, as his fingers work the hem of your crew neck up, his fingers feel like lightening strikes against your body, and you welcome the dulled pain with a moan, “Need’t be put in your place.”

You whine when your sweater hits the ground with a soft thud and the cool air of his office ices over your still sweat slicked skin. His lips suck deep bruises into your throat, and his fingers dip into the waistband of your shorts, shoving them down in a hurry.

Expert fingers find your clit and he smirks when you whine for more, “thought you hated me?”

You pout when his fingers come to a halt, eyes flicking open to see his confidence boasting on his stupid perfect face.

“But this pretty little pussy doesn’t, does she baby?”

“Coach,” you moan out for him, his title on your lips in a sloppy whine make him harder than he’s ever been.

His thick fingers dip into the silky warm folds of your pink pussy. The combined noises you make, echo loud in his office. “Fuck baby,” he groans, his fingers sucking up into your gummy walls, he pops them out licks the juicy wetness of your arousal from them. “So wet honey, all this for me?”

Your fingers pinch at his sweats and pull them down in a swift motion along with his boxer briefs. He’s hung more than you thought. Making any guy you had been with previous look like something in a funny museum.

His abs are sculpted and dip into a hard cut v, leading to a small patch of trimmed hair, housing the longest, thickest dick you’ve ever come across.

And you were right it was veiny.

The pretty mushroom pinked head was presenting a pearl of pre cum, so pretty it could make an angel cry. When you try to lower yourself to wrap your lips around him, he stops you.

“Not today,” he groans, fisting his hearty length, your eyes going dumb watching him, brain numb and drunk on him already, “not enough time.”

He wraps your legs around his waist and hoists you up against the wall, your bare back stings against the rough cement wall, he’s grabby, his lips pressing heat into your neck, his moan tingling your skin.

With a quick shift of his hips, your tight pussy sheaths his thick cock. And you scream out.

“Shit, fuck honey..” he’s fighting to keep composure as you are practically lifeless against the wall. His thrusts are filled with purpose and want as your ass is slammed harder and harder into the wall, clapping along like a round of applause, ankles crossed around his lower back at your Nike socks and the laces of your air forces bouncing in tandem.

He’s sweaty and grunting, with each pull from his cock brings more deep and pretty noises from you and he sucks into your shoulder again, knowing damn well his mark will last for weeks. One you’d have to explain to your friends and your teammates, and your boyfriend.

He didn’t know if you had a boyfriend and frankly he didn’t give a fuck, you were his for the time being and he would do as he pleased.

He was fucking you stupid and you were letting him, holding his neck in a lazy grip as he hammered into you, and when you tightened around him, he knew you were close, “look at me,” he begs of you, “you’re gonna come for me, yeah?”

“Yes,” you choke out, barely registering what he’s saying from the tight coiled pleasure of your orgasm ready to fire away.

His cock drags slow as your eyes connect, yours lazily spilling over with fresh tears, “who’s makin’ you feel this good, 22? Huh?”

“Y-you Coach!” you whine, nearly ready to crumble under his thick fingers when he rubs your sensitive clit.

“What was that baby girl?,” he croaked, holding back his release, “couldn’t hear you.”

“Oh fuck oh fuck mmm you, Coach Harrington! Fuck I’m coming!”

Your orgasm breaks and it’s like a dam has busted, his dick is soaked by your arousal and he’s losing any bit of cockiness he had left when your face smooths and your lips blur a pretty round ‘o’ as you hum and your body tingles.

He follows not far behind you, muttering sentences that make no sense, drunk on your pussy as he paints your walls with his release.

You’ve never seen him look hotter, his forehead rests on your chest as you both catch your breath. For a split second he shows you a sly smirk, like he actually was enjoying himself.

“you might just be my fav-”

before he can finish, before he can pull out and offer you a towel, a loud knock scared everything in him stiff. Besides his cock that went instantly soft.. his blood ran cold.

His face stares at the door, and you stare at him, your grip on his shoulders tighten.

“Steve?”

*let me know your thoughts on this, should there be a part 2? I love hearing your comments ♥️

#steve x female reader #steve x you #steve harrington fanfic #steve fanfic

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walker-extended-universe · 2 years

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I guess Trevor got out on good behavior or something. Good to see he’s moving on from Stella though

#walker #trevor strand #if amazon's gonna shove this in my face i'm going to have fun with it #i think i'm funny

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bedsyandco · 1 month

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𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 - 𝐭𝐳𝟏𝟏

✰ PAIRING — fem!reader x trevor zegras

✰ SUMMARY — in which trevor tells his gf about a dream (or vision) he had!!

✰ CONTENT — established relationship. just plain old fluff!!

✰ WC — 1K

✰ NOTE — missed my annoying little guy (affectionate) and this was the result. I hope you enjoy <3

You would have never expected Trevor to be the needy one in your relationship. In all your previous relationships, you’ve always been the one who was the most affectionate, the most “clingy.” It was obvious to you now how much more invested you were in those relationships than your previous boyfriends.

From the first moment you met Trevor, you could see that he had a lot of energy. He was bouncing from person to person, chatting animatedly, and he didn’t sit still once that night. Not until the party had died down and the room was nearly empty. And even then he had sat himself on the couch and talked his head off to the girl that sat next to him. You didn’t mind though, you still found his rambling equally endearing today as you did that night.

So maybe it shouldn’t have been such a surprise that all that energy Trevor has, directly got invested into you and your relationship the second you started dating. From planning spontaneous dates every other night, surprise love notes in your car, flowers every time he went to the grocery store, hands constantly on your body somewhere, and kisses always being pressed to your skin, it was safe to say gave as much as he received, if not more.

“g’morning baby,” trevor says, his voice still husky with sleep. he tightens his arms around your waist and pulls your body into his, wrapping both his legs around yours as he presses a kiss to your head.

“good morning trev. sleep well?” you ask, running your hand through his messy strands and he tries to snuggle even closer to you, his head resting on your chest, half of his body covering yours.

“mhm” he hums, pressing a kiss to your collarbone.

it always started like this. a kiss here and there. you knew soon enough trevor would be pressing kisses everywhere, until that wouldn’t satiate him and he’d start getting this mildly annoyed expression on his face. hoping it would encourage you to replicate the kisses on his body too. not that you needed much convincing.

“I had a really great dream. I was sad I woke up for a moment until I saw your face,” Trevor mumbles, tracing your nose, and you smile, pressing a kiss to his head.

“What was the dream about?” you ask and Trevor opens his eyes slowly, lifting his head to he can look down at you, meeting your eyes.

“Actually I don’t like calling it a dream. Let’s call it a vision,” Trevor says and you smile

“A vision?” you question, amusement clear in your voice and your eyes and your boyfriend nods

“Yeah. Dream sounds far off. Vision is something I know will happen one day,”

“Okay. What did you see in this vision,” you ask

“We were sitting on this porch. It was a huge porch, like one of those old big farm house porches you know. And you were wearing one of your big colourful ugly sweaters-“ he says and your gasp cuts him off

“You said you liked them!” you say and Trevor laughs softly.

“I do like them, baby. They have character,” he says and laughs even harder when you hit his shoulder softly

“Saying something has character is just another way of saying it’s ugly,” you say, pouting slightly and Trevor smiles, his eyes swimming with adoration as he presses a soft kiss to your nose

“You make anything and everything look good. Even sweaters with character,” he says and you just shake your head unable to keep your smile from mirroring his

“Anyway, so you're wearing one of your big colourful ugly sweaters and these white fuzzy socks. we’re sitting on this porch swing, your feet in my lap. There’s this lake nearby, and it’s early morning. And the sun rises perfectly over that lake and I probably would’ve thought it’s the prettiest view I’ve ever seen if I didn’t get to wake up to your pretty face every day,” Trevor says, a look of awe on his face and he gently caresses your cheek and you swallow thickly

“Trevor,” you whisper and he kisses you softly

“Wait, I haven't gotten to the best part yet. We’re sitting and watching the sunrise and I’m telling you something, probably spewing a bunch of nonsense like always, but I’m making you laugh so it doesn’t really matter. And as you’re laughing, the cutest little girl runs up the stairs towards us. And she looks just like me, but God the laugh, that was all you baby. I wish you could’ve heard it. It was like liquid sunshine in a bottle. And we just sat there watching the sunrise together,” Trevor says, his serene expression changing when he sees the tears, you didn’t even know had fallen, on your face.

“Why are you crying sweet girl,” he asks, kissing your tears away and you take a shuddering breath

It wasn’t what he had said that made you emotional necessarily, although it did make your heart clench with the utmost joy to think of that future with Trevor. It was the expression on his face while he relived this dream, this vision, with you. The sheer bliss on his face, the softness of his smile, the adoration in his eyes. The way he so clearly and visibly yearned to have this with you. The confidence in his voice that he knows this isn’t just some far fetched dream, but something that will become reality for both of you one day.

“I love you so much Trevor. There’s no words I can use to make you understand how much,” you say and he smiles softly, kissing you again

“I love you baby. Endlessly. you and your ugly sweaters,” he says and you laughs

“I’m gonna throw those out now,” you say and he gasps dramatically

“You can’t! How are we gonna recreate my vision without the ugly sweater? It’s a crucial piece” he says and laughs as you playfully push his face away.

#trevor zegras x you #trevor zegras x y/n #trevor zegras fanfic #trevor zegras fic #trevor zegras x reader #trevor zegras fluff #trevor zegras imagine

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adorethedistance · 8 months

Text

I Love You - Trevor Zegras x Reader (18+)

Hockey Masterlist

Warnings: swearing, SMUT, oral f!recieving, rough sex

Words: 1956

Summary: When Trevor accidentally lets it slip that he's in love with you, the heat of the moment confession turns into the fuck of a lifetime.

A/n: I wrote this piece in one sitting and decided to not proof it extensively lol. It's not bad tho so enjoy! Minors DNI pls pls pls

“Spiderman would not beat Captain Marvel in a fight!” I sit up to passionately declare to an amused yet startled Trevor. As I sit up to straddle his hips, he subconsciously draws his legs up to rest against my back. Trevor looks at me with gentle shock, clearly not expecting me to get so fired up about the statement he’d just made.

I’d been laying with my head on his chest for a while as he and I talked about the wonders of growing up. Then, somehow, the topic of aspirations led to childhood, leading to superheroes, and now to hypothetical super battles. Once the initial shock wears off, Trevor’s eyes flash with stubborn delight and he pushes back.

“Spiderman would absolutely win.”

“Why?” I ask, preparing to deconstruct any argument he throws my way.

“He’s got Spidey-sense so his reflexes would be quicker.”

“Okay, that doesn’t mean shit!”

“Why not?!”

“Because Captain Marvel has actual powers and MCU spidey only has spidey-sense, which is really just mega anxiety.”

“No way!”

“You’re just mad because I’m right. JAMIE?!” I scream into the empty hallway. “Oh my god, wait, he’s not even here!” I begin wheezing laughing at my own brain fart. Trevor also begins to laugh, though it’s clear he’s laughing at both my wheeze and the embarrassing moment beforehand.

“I told you he’s out with some of the guys.”

“I forgot to ask, why didn’t you go with?”

“Because I wanted to see you,” he says as if that statement didn’t just make my heart swell a million times larger.

“Not that I don’t appreciate your choice, but you never miss guys’ day.”

“What? Yes, I do!”

“When?” At my question, Trevor pauses still trying to come up with an answer. “See?”

“Well, I’ve been trying to make more of an effort to spend time with you...”

“What? Why?”

“Because I love you!” Trevor and I both fall silent for a moment. Lips slightly parted in surprise.

“Did you just-?”

“I don’t think so-”

“You totally did!”

“Well…” He trails off again, “I do.”

Reaching forward, I extend both arms to hold his face and I lean down to kiss his lips. The kiss deepens as it lingers and I hum a happy sigh into the connection. Trevor finds our passionate rhythm and his hands that were originally resting on my waist trail down over my hips and onto my ass. I can feel him fighting a smile through the kiss, which causes me to smile. The small laughs between us are gone just as fast as they came, and I keep one hand on Trevor’s cheek while the other slips into his hair. Gripping my hand in the strands on his neck he moans softly into the kiss.

The heat of the moment leads me to begin grinding down on him, desperate for any sort of friction that could provide release. I trace the tip of my tongue down his neck, nipping soft bits of his skin between my teeth. Trevor groans at the sensation in tandem with the movement of my hips. The sound is so erotic it makes me want to ravage him immediately. I pull off of his neck for a brief moment to mutter,

“Bedroom. Now.” And Trevor doesn’t need to be told twice. He sits up sliding one hand under my ass and the other across my back to carry me from the couch to his bedroom. I marvel at how strong he is, how effortless the motion is for him. Trevor tosses me down on his bed with ease, a lustful smirk occupying his features as he admires the sight of me between his unmade sheets.

Before either of us can say a word, I’m tearing his sweatshirt and the soft baby tee underneath it, off of my feverish body. The choice to forego any kind of bra was purely coincidental. Or maybe I knew deep down that I needed him this bad. Regardless the action leaves us both topless, and his smirk now grows into a lustful grin.

“Fucking hell, I’m a lucky guy,” Trevor says as he takes in the sight of my bare chest. I remain laying down but extend my hand to reach for him. Trevor takes the cue, interlacing our fingers before dropping his head to pull my right nipple into his mouth. I gasp softly as he sucks the hard bud, grazing the flesh with his teeth, causing me to moan fully.

“Fuck.”

He puffs a small laugh of arrogance before harshly sucking a love bite into the side of my tit. He works quickly, placing a kiss on the mark once he’s finished before repeating the motion on my left side. I tangle both hands in the back of his hair. Gripping the tufts for my own expression of pleasure. My hands idly follow as he pulls off of my tits and leans up to kiss me once more. He sucks my bottom lip roughly before kissing his way down the length of my body.

The kissing ceases as he encounters the waistband of my pajama shorts. Hooking his fingers in the band he looks up, pausing for a moment to check in. I nod a fervent ‘yes’ and that’s all the encouragement he needs to yank off my shorts and my thong in one swift motion. He discards the clothing somewhere behind his body, staring down before meeting my eyes once more. He wordlessly quirks a brow. Such a fucking tease.

“Please,” I say, knowing exactly what he wants to hear. Trevor happily obliges, roughly lifting my legs. He braces himself with one hand on the underside of each of my thighs, pushing them so that my knees flank my marked breasts. His head dips lower. Licking the surface of my pussy with his wide tongue. I breathe out a pleasured sigh at the first contact. He continues licking up and down the length of my sex, lingering at the top to swirl his tongue on my clit. I moan softly at the action, causing him to swirl harder before sucking the sensitive bud into his mouth.

“Ah, Trevor!” I whine as he continues to pleasure me. His hands drop from holding my thighs to then open me up more, momentarily pulling off of my clit. The right hand spreads my pussy apart while the left lifts from above; I shudder at the feeling of the crisp air against my exposed clit. He snickers darkly before licking the bud, causing me to cry out in pleasure.

“Oh fuck!”

His pace quickens. The movement speeds up as I feel my high building further and further. And just as fast as he had begun, he pulls away from my core once more.

“Agh, you dick!” Trevor just laughs and fake pouts at me.

“What’s wrong?” He asks snarkily and I roll my eyes. The act is surrendered without much of a fight as Trevor unties the drawstring on his sweatpants and drops them. His boxers quickly follow; he's already the hardest he’s ever been. I sigh at the sight and then scooch further down the length of the bed. With my hips right on the edge of the mattress, he reaches down to slowly trace his tip through my slick folds. He moans at the initial contact. I can feel myself getting wetter as he does. The things this boy’s moans can do to me is humiliating.

Then, Trevor gently pushes the tip into my dripping hole. He takes a moment, allowing me to adjust to his size before pulling back out again. He fucks in and out of me with the tip until I whine out of impatience. Trevor takes the hint and without a moment to spare immediately pushes all the way inside me, bottoming out in one quick movement. I groan out a cry, relieved to feel him again, but desperately wanting more.

“Fuck me, please,” is all I have to say before he begins thrusting in and out. The pace of his thrusts are steady and wonderful. If I’d know he could fuck like this from the beginning, I wouldn’t have wasted time playing false modesty. He continues to fuck into me, moaning at the sensation in time with his thrusts.

“Harder,” I sigh and Trevor merely smiles. He thrusts with a bit more force but I can tell he’s holding back. “It’s okay,” I say tauntingly, “You won’t break me.” Trevor seems ignited by the promise and begins to fuck harder and deeper. I loudly moan out with each thrust, reveling in the pleasure of feeling him inside me.

I can feel my orgasm building but before I can utter another encouragement he pulls out completely. “Wha-” I try to ask but Trevor quickly uses his impressive strength to rough flip me over. Laying face down, on my stomach, he grabs my legs and pulls me back to the edge of the bed. From where he stands, he pushes back in to fuck me harder and faster from behind. I cry out in immense pleasure and reach my right hand out behind me. Trevor interlaces our fingers and uses the position to pin that arm on my back, using that as leverage to go harder.

I could scream with how intense the pleasure is. As he continues fucking me I feel my high building once more. Trevor senses my peak through the way my pussy is clenching his dick, and he begins moaning louder at the sensation. Fucking faster and harder, he holds one hand on my back, the other on my shoulder to keep my from moving away from the end of the bed. I use my free hand to grip the fabric of his sheets in my fist. Each thrust gleaning a louder, more intense cry than before, building higher and higher.

“Oh my god, I’m gonna cum.” I squeak as he fucks me hard. The swelling mix of his pants and moans indicate he’s also close.

“Fuck. Me too, babygirl.”

“Please please please please please,” I whisper as I near my high more and more. As my orgasm envelops me, I go silent reaching for the peak of my high. The intensity of my squeezing around his dick amplifies, and the added friction is enough for him to climax simultaneously. He doesn’t let up his pace, allowing the both of us to release at the same time.

“I’m cumming I’m cumming I’m cumming,” I whine as he twitches, jerking slightly as he finishes inside of me. The both of us finish with a symphony of moans and whines, falling into one another’s pleasure as we do.

Trevor then pulls out of me and collapses on the bed beside me. As I turn over, I feel his cum start to leak out of me but I’m too exhausted to do anything about it. When I finally muster the energy and look up at his sweating face, I smile and laugh breathlessly due to the rush of endorphins.

“Holy shit,” I say as best as I can with my dry mouth.

“That was easily the best sex we’ve ever had.”

“Agreed.” We fall silent again for a brief moment, Trevor resting his eyes in the interim. I look at his handsome face and smile as I think about how he’s completely and utterly mine. “I love you, Z.” His eyes flutter back open and he smiles sweetly. He sits up to look at me fully and say,

“I really am the luckiest guy in the world.” Trevor then leans down and places a soft, lingering kiss on my lips.

“I’ll get you a towel and then you should probably pee.”

“And they say chivalry is dead.”

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