#And if you found any grammar or spelling mistake

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ᯓ “SAID YOU’RE A WILD

MUSTANG.” ۶ৎ

“everybody said you’re a killer, but i couldnt stop the way i was feeling the day your record dropped.” (LANA DEL REY.)

BY @MZLLSIT!!! ᥫ᭡

ᯓ PAIRING. hwang in-ho & fem!reader

FANDOM. squid game (seasontwo) ꪆৎ

T!W. shameless smut. porn with plot. bathroom sex. slight angst? dom! in ho. oral sex (f!receiving.) praise kink. slight age difference. blood. violence.

GENRE. smut, fluff? (kinda), angst (kinda?.)

SUMMARY. ᝰ.ᐟ chaos erupted after the tight vote between x & o’s, resulting in a bloodbath within mens bathrooms which left five people dead and fondly, you couldnt handle the way the deaths of innocent people racked up just so willingly, leaving you in a helpless and terrified state as the night began to fall. until in-ho spotted by your side in the hell that broke out between the two sides, calmed your panic and took you to safety… a lustful safety.

(THIS IS MY FIRST TIME WRITING THIS KINDA SHIT SO IF ITS AWFUL IM SO SORRY CHAT.. ALSO IGNORE ANY GRAMMAR OR SPELLING MISTAKES!!!! other than that, enjoy.)

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hell. thats what siting in that room felt like for you, mentally praying for the gods above to come and swoop you of your feet and into warmth. and yet no matter how hard you could’ve prayed in that moment, nothing could cure the way your stomach churned and twisted in a million directions all at once as your eyes pinned to the left side of the room where the o’s glared right in your direction, if looks could kill, you would have died the second the boys left the restroom a few minutes ago. some of them covered in blood, eyes dead and predator like while the rest had the look of a frightened child, lost and alone.

everybody knew what was going to happen the second those lights switched off. death lingered and suffocated the air you breathed in, yet far worse was to come, like a storm waiting to crush upon a village.

your back rested upon the wall, watching from afar as your nails dug into the skin of your arms you clutched so tightly to your chest that your knuckles turned white. your mind raced, heart rattling against your chest and sweat began to bead at your forehead as you tried to swallow the dry lump that never seemed to leave your throat. you were going to die in this shit hole, and there was no gods above that could stop that from happening.

the lights flickered off, leaving only the red and blue lights to illuminate the hall of bunkbeds which some still chose to lay in even despite knowing what rampage was bound to happen in just a few seconds. in the darkness of the room you still spotted the sight of in-ho, who’s dark eyes met and softened at yours almost immediately and you refused to look away. he could practically smell the fear radiating of your body from across the small area your group had chosen to stay within, gi-hun sat at his side tightly along with the rest of the group who you found to be the only source of comfort in this hell.

and yet despite the comfort they provided you still sat isolated in the corner at the brink of a panic attack. breathing felt like diffusing a bomb, one hand clutched your chest, trying to relax yourself as your other rubbed your own leg comfortingly. knowing your death was a blink away sent you into a psychotic spiral at the thought that your last breath would be in this room. in this place. in this very moment.

a blood curdling scream erupted around the room, snapping your head up to see the group of o’s charging right into your boundary, screaming and yelling as they pounced onto anyone they could get their hands on.

the lights flickered as the room flipped into a war in the space of a few seconds, sounds of yelling and harsh slashing echoed around. clutching your ears, you rocked back and forward as a loud sob broke up through your throat. “fuck!” you cried into the thick material of your tracksuit, arms covering your head in attempt to blur out the haunting screams that seemed never ending.

“found you, mother fucker!” a voice bellowed toward you, lifting up your glossy ears to stare at player 124 charge at you, face bloodied and covered in a psychopathic grin while in his left palm clutched a shard of glass that dripped crimson blood from the tip. it was no surprise you’d be his circled on his target list due to the fact during the last game, mingle, you shoved his sorry ass out of the room him and his purple headed friend fought so hardly for, which almost costed their lives. now here he is, about to take yours with the same intent you had in that one second during the game.

“i swear im going to fucking slit you in half, bitch.” his words slurred as you stumbled to your feet, not daring to break eye contact while you bit down on your bottom lip that trembled violently.

“fuck you.” you spat, yet your words wobbled along with your legs despite how hard you tried to look ‘tough,’ your eyes still glistened under the flickering lights with tears. nam-gyu howled in laughter, twisting the sharp end of the glass in his hand before his face turned straight in a second. the two seconds he stared felt like an eternity before he charged at you.

yelling, you caught his arm that held the blade pointed at your heart and using your knee you jerked it up to hit in between his legs which forced him to fold over just in time for you to kick him over onto his back. the shard of glass rolled over to the side of his head and in and instant you charged to grab it with shaky legs, only for him to be quicker and yanked at your ankle, shoving you down to the floor.

a slight whimper left your lips tasting the irony taste along your gums due to the impact of you hitting the ground chin first, and before you knew it, nam-gyu had wrestled his way on top of you, using one hand to pin your wrist above your head while the other snatched the shard inches away from your finger tips.

“mm, you’re a good little fighter, huh?” his lips lingered close to your ear while he trailed the sharp end over your face, only grazing your skin slightly. you flinched against his touch, kicking your legs frantically and screaming for help, feeling the tears burn at your eyes. you were fucked, and there was no doubt about it.

feeling your heart thump against your tightened chest, your mind clouded with defeat and you became limp underneath his strength, tossing your head to the side to glance over at the chaos that spread and diseased everyone around you, blood splattered on nearly every wall you looked at while several bodies laid limp , choking on their own blood.

“fucking die, you bitch!” the dark haired man yelled, raising the shard of glass in the air with a smile that sent painful shivers down your spine. and just as you wrenched your eyes shut, the impact of the blade never came. instead, you felt something wet drip down onto your face, pulling one eye open to see a metal poll struck through nam-gyus’s heart before he fell limp ontop of you, his blood seeping and staining your shirt.

opening your mouth to scream, a hand came over to stop any noise from coming out while another shoved the lifeless body of your chest. in-ho stared down at you, blood splattered along his face while his eyes softened at the scene of your shaken face.

“ive got you, ive got you come on.” despite the desperation in his voice his words were none the less slightly comforting despite the chaos around you as he pulled you up from your back where his hand tightening on your wrist and yanked you forward without another word.

you had no time to comprehend what even just happened in that short space of time but you couldn’t help the way your heart fluttered drastically at the way his fingers interlinked within yours as he charged around the bloodbath. his only priority in this devastating scene was to protect you. only you. he couldn’t give less of a shit about the stack of bodies that were growing at his hands as they ran but instead he looked back every second to see if you where still chasing behind.

his warm hand came onto your lower back and pulled you forward through the door that was questionably opened immediately the second the square masked guard caught a glance of in-ho and it made your stomach sink in confusion at how willingly they were to let him through with just a glance. yet your curiosity was died down as in-ho shoved the bathroom door open with his elbow while his other kept firmly on your waist.

your eyes hurt from the bright light on the bathroom, baby pink walls almost blinding you as you adjusted to the sudden change in atmosphere. quiet. silence. and still your heart never slowed down for a second.

“are you hurt? did that bastard hit you?” in-ho cupped either side of your head in his head, tilting your chin from side to side as his eyes glistened with a hint of panic. taking in the scene, you noticed the way his hair was messed up compared to his usual style, his eyebrows knotted into a frown while he examined the features along your face. softly, his finger lingered over a small cut under your eye from where nam-gyu nipped at your skin and you took in the way his jaw clenched just at the sight of blood from your pretty face.

a groan rumbled in his throat, yet he quickly swallowed down his anger to return his soft eyed gaze back onto you. for a split second his eyes glanced down at your lips before returning back to your face. “poor girl.” he coed, it was like his tone was glazed with honey, sweet and sickening as his hand rubbed against your hair.

you can’t deny the warmth that grew in your lower abandonment, and hell did it twist with guilt at the same time knowing lives were being took the very same second your here in the arms of the man who had caught your wondering eyes the second you saw him. still, it felt fucking euphoric to be beneath his finger tips.

perhaps he read your mind because instead of taking his hand away it came to the back of your neck and yanked you against his lips which you were caught staring at the whole time apparently and you tasted the desperation along his soft lips.

his mouth moved harshly against yours, his tongue arching his way into your mouth and finding the warmth of yours while his other hand came to squeeze at bare skin of your waist which made your heart flutter at feeling his cold fingers against the softness of your skin. the world felt like it was spinning beneath your feet, yanking at his dark hair while your tongues battled for dominance.

“you have no idea how badly ive wanted this.” he whispered against your lips and it sent shivers to the bottom of your spine along side the way slick began to form between your legs as he backed you up against the wall.

tilting your head back you let him gain access to your neck and he wasted no time to sink his teeth into the plush feeling of your skin, tasting and licking along the pulse point on your throat which quickened at the warmth of his tongue exploring you. leaving bruises, in-ho stepped back for a moment to admire his claiming all over your skin while you stood breathless under his predatory eyes.

“take off your clothes.” he growled, returning back to the warmth of your neck before you could even respond to which he squeezed the skin of your waist. “don’t make me ask again.”

gulping, you nodded almost a little to quickly and you stumbled to pull down and kick off the material of your trousers that bunched at your ankles to where in-ho’s fingers pressed to your clothed cunt almost immediately.

“all this for me?” he chuckled against your skin, running a long digit along the wet patch on your panties. “fuck, you’re so good for me..” his voice made you clench your thighs around his hand to where he tugged at the thin cloth and ripping it off your body.

gasping, you slump against the wall he backed you up against, making you shiver at the cold material against your bare thighs and ass. “m-maybe we should do this-“ you began to mumble against his grip yet a sharp moan left your lips when a cold finger came to rub against your aching clit.

slowly, the man sunk to his knees in front of you, not once breaking eye contact as he lowered down your body, leaving a trail of kisses behind. taking your hand into his hair, your chest heaved with anticipation while his dark eyes took in the way your mouth draped open at his slow kisses, tossing your head back against the cold tiles as he gently nipped at the silk skin of your upper thighs.

“please in-ho..” you whispered just loud enough for him to hear, your voice croaking with desperation to feel his mouth against you dripping cunt.

“what do you want me to do, baby? use your words for me.” he kept one hand on your hip, using his other to run along the wet slither of your clit that burned for his tongue.

“fuck me!” you cried out, pulling at his dark locks. “fuck me with your tongue!”

“yes ma’am.” you felt him smile against your cunt before he licked a long strip of your wetness from its surface, tasting the sweetness of your slick against his tongue. your body felt like it was on fire with the way his mouth worked its magic on your pussy.

feeling him hum in satisfaction against your cunt sent thousands off sparks up into the pit of your stomach while you moaned out, gripping onto his hair while still pushing his head down further into your pussy while your orgasm began bloom. for a moment he turned his head up to stare at you, lips glossy and puffy from your wetness while he looked at you with a stare that you swore could swallow you whole. and fuck, did it feel like everything around you was twirling on a carousel.

stars started to form in the corners of your eyes while one leg rested over his shoulder, giving him better access you suck you dry, tongue poking into your tight hole which you swear could cum at the way his tongue worked so beautifully up and down your pussy to the point it had its own heartbeat. your mind fogged to the point of realisation as it flashed back to the scene of the guards when they allowed you both to leave the death trap so quickly with just the nod of approval from in-ho. why would they do that? what validation of protection does this man have that nobody else does?

“h-hey.. in-ho?” you managed you gasp out over your wave of moans in which he hummed against your pussy, forcing your eyes to roll to the back of your head. “how did t-those guards just..” he thrusted his tongue so far up into your hole before you could even finish your sentence and you swore you felt you knees buck against his face at the movement, crying out a painful whimper.

his hand dug into the plush flesh of your ass as you grinded your pussy deeper into his face, pulling on his hair the same way his tongue pulled at the strings attached to your heart. riding out your orgasm, you felt your thighs clench around his pretty face that buried in between your legs as you sobbed so loud the entirety of the security guards could probably hear the joyful cries you let out.

with wobbly knees and a head filled with fairies you wrenched your eyes closed, feeling yourself let loose and finally reach the climax of your orgasm as you clenched around his tongue, your cum laced and coated his mouth.

“holy shit..” you panted harshly, chest dropping and rising at rapid speed while in-ho’s face pulled away slowly from your pussy, his glossy lips twisting into a grin before he brought his thumb to the corner of his mouth, licking away any residue you left on his face.

“you taste sweeter than i thought, baby.” his beautiful dark eyes took the view of you in awe, admiring the way your forehead beaded with sweat, eyebrows knotted in satisfaction as you ran your fingers through his hair.

slowly he rose to his feet, taking his finger he sucked out of his mouth with a small pop before tucking a loose strand of your messy hair behind your ear, smiling that sweet smile you remembered and adore all too well.

and just as quickly as he came to scroop you away, he left just as slick without a word, adjusting his shirt on the way out and leaving you alone in the bathroom, trousers bunched at your ankles.

“what the fuck just happened.”

[rhaeheartzsquirrelz]

Sweet

Sevika x Female Reader

Soft, emotional sex with Sevikidiki where you end up sobbing ‘cause she’s too sweet.

Cw: Sex: fingering, strap on, praise. Soft dom Sevika. Sub Reader.

MEN DO NOT INTERACT!!!!!!!

Proofread || Note: It was so fun writing this, I hope you enjoy :) Also, please ignore any spelling/grammar mistakes, i tried my hardest to keep them out!

Her flesh arm wrapped around your waist and you found yourself pinned against her chest. Her lips latched onto hers as she kissed you with an abundance of care and love. Never was there a moment of roughness, of the slightest bit of pain; being a grip or a pull.

Sevika’s hand slithered down to your shorts, entering from your front and pressing against your clit. She slowly moved, causing your breath to heavy and your heart to spike.

Your bedroom was prepared for a movie night, a night where you and your girlfriend could just cuddle. But, things seemed to escalate. There was a change of plans.

The warm light from your lamp illuminated the room, and your freshly lit candles now made the situation much more romantic. The room smelled heavenly, and so did Sevika’s kissing. She was gentle with how much pressure she applied, not wanting to get too intense. You didn’t mind her softness, matter of fact you actually wanted more of it. She’d taken off her prosthetic in order to cuddle with you better. In order to keep away any sharp metals from you. That was the kind of woman she was; only with you, however.

Her middle teased your entrance, finertip going in before slipping right now. She was testing the waters, seeing if you she’d need lube or not— she didn’t. Tongue slipping out of your mouth, lips unattaching, Sevika pulled back with a heavy breath, her eyes opening and she met yours.

“Can I?” Her voice quieter, slightly shaky. “Yeah, I want you to.” And with your approval, she let her finger, carefully, move in. “Y’want me to add another? You don’t have to.” Her grey eyes watching as your teeth sunk into your bottom lip. “Uh-huh, go ahead.” You, barely able to hold yourself together, nodded. A hand on her cheek with the other on the side of her neck, you hold back a whimper as she added another. It didn’t hurt, no, but it definitely took you a few seconds to get used to. Considering Sevika’s fingers were quite large. “Does it hurt? Tell me to stop if y’need me to, alright?” Her dark lips pressing a kiss on your forehead, letting you know you could say no whenever you wanted to.

She slowly picked up her pace, from slow curls to harder ones, the tips of her fingers found her target and she hit it. You clung to her as she did so, moaning into her shoulder all the while having her kiss your neck. “Is this good, baby?” Her low voice vibrating through you. “Yeah. Yeah, it’s.. good.” Awsome was what you wanted to say. It felt awsome.

Her warm breath brushed against your heated skin, causing you to feel hot. Burning hot. The fast beating of your heart and the heavy breaths you were taking only added to the fire; your body was sweating. And the thought of Seika being in you had your mind giddy, had it working extra hard to make you feel good. And you did. Even in the process of making you cum you felt a sort of high you’d only experience with your girlfriend.

“God, you’re so beautiful like this,” she’d whisper with a suck at your neck, leaving a trail of hickeys. “Don’t stop.. Sev.. that’s so.. fucking good— don’t stop, please!” You’d ramble on, jaw dropping at the familiar pooling in your core. “Y’think I would? I’m offended, love.” Her lips hidden and curled into a smile, she was proud of herself.

Your walls squished against her middle and ring, responding to the experienced curling she was doing inside of you. Your girlfriend even commented; “Feeling good? You’re all tight.” And, yes, it made your face feel hot. How could it not? Her smugness added to the sensation she was, lovingly, providing. It was the way she acknowledged how you reacted that made you whine, made you embarrassed. It even made you further more attracted to her.

“My pretty girl’s so close, I can feel it.” Smothering your neck with hickeys and kisses; only so you’d have a constant reminder of her. “Mm-hm, I am.” Your breathless words causing your woman to fasten her pace. “I can’t.. please! god it’s so good..”

Your hands clenched onto her shoulders as you, yourself, clung onto her. A cry of pleasure escaped your lips and your hips slightly shuddered against her as she helped you ride out your orgasm. Sevika even pulled back to see your face, watch as you came all over her fingers, it was a sight she never truly got used to. It was addictive being able to make her girl so happy.

“Perfect. You were perfect.” Slipping out of you and pulling you close with her wrists; her hand avoiding any contact. “How’d that feel, pretty thing?” Lips pecking yours before she gave you a chance to talk. “Like you said, it was perfect.”

A low humm of acknowledgment came from your girlfriend and she nuzzled into you, forehead resting against your shoulder. “It’s only ten. Can I get the strap?” Know this stuff knocks you out in a few.” She was reffering to the fact that she, herself, could have you asleep faster than any melatonin could. “Sure, but only one round.” You were already exhausted from a little fingering, you doubted you could get through Sevika’s pounding.

At your approval, she quickly grabbed, and slid on, the strap. Clicking the belt in place before plopping down next to you. “What position, ma’am?” Tone all teasing as she had a hand on your arm. “Mm.. I dunno? From the front? That’s the easiest?” She nodded in agreement. “You don’t mind if I have on my mech, do ya?” “Nope.”

From the front was what you got.

Ankles on her shoulders, arms overhead, and your body ready, your girlfriend pressed the tip of her strap to your entrance. Her mech and flesh holding onto your thighs as she slowly, and oh so carefully, pushed inside. Sevika’s strap was thick and long, easily larger than her two fingers— and it took you a while to get used to. “Deep breaths, babe.” Flesh hand pressing down on your lower abdomen, it was her way of making you feel more.

“Trying.” Was your breathless response, head tilted to the side to see the bulge in your skin. Sevika only smiled down at the sight, soaking in the way her strap looked with you wrapped around it. “Convinced every inch of you is beautiful.” The woman leaned forward, holding onto your ankles and slowly beginning to thrust. Your body, as usual, recoiled, and your hands clenched onto the the pillow beneath your clouded head.

Your eyes rolled back as Sevika’s hips rolled deep into you, hitting her target all the while rubbing against your tight walls. She could feel the pressure, the repeated squishing everytime she entered, even the way she had to push hard into you. You were wet, soaked, and it made the job easier. Louder, too. The quiet yet noticeable squelching noises from you filled the room, thanks to your girlfriend.

Not even a few minutes in and you were feeling your stomach pool again. The same heat that would make you feel good formed and you found yourself utterly taken away by the sensation jolting throughout your body. Every part of you enjoyed it.

“Close already?” The woman grunted, wrapping your legs around her hips and deciding to pull you against her chest. “I can’t..” you managed to say, barely able to keep yourself composed. “Sev, I.. fuck— it’s too much,” “need me to stop?” She knew you’d say no, she’d never heard the word leave your mouth. “Don’t.. please, I’m close.”

And she didn’t. Sevika never slowed her pace. Her only goal, at the moment, was to make you cum, all the while feeling loved. She showed so by peppering your forehead with kisses, intertwining her fingers with yours, holding your hands above your head, and whispering soft words in your ear. “You’re doing great, love,” she’d say as she pressed a kiss on the shell of your ear. “Gonna cum for me, hm? Go ahead, baby.” All the while pounding into you. “My girl sounds so pretty, don’t you?” As she lets you burry your face into her shoulder and whimper, moan, as much as you wanted to.

Even though your girlfriend was thrusting hard, she wasn’t being rough. She knew how you needed it, how much you could handle. She’d never push your limits, if that had even crossed her mind. “Vika,” your voice shaky as you sniffle against her skin. Her warmth mixing into yours, her grunts sending a light shiver through you, and her breath tickling your neck. “Is something wrong?” Her pace slowing as she wiped at your wet cheek. “No, don’t stop.. please.” Heart racing in your chest as you said those words. You’d repeated them a thousand times; but they really were true.

“Baby, I’m not.” Sevika, though worried, fastened her pace again and leaned on her arms to get a better look at you. Brows furrowed, eyes lidded and wet, lips parted, with your face heated. As cute as you looked, she had to ask the question. “What’s wrong?” Grey eyes staring deeply into yours. “Later.. I’ll tell.. you later.”

There was nothing wrong, just the fact that you were overwhelmed with the amount of care and love she put in every thrust, every touch. It was adorable and just so sweet that it had you sobbing.

Your orgasm was just as good as the last and, afterwards, Sevika slipped off her strap and decided to cuddle you. “Too much?” She asked, voice quiet and soft, “No, I never said that.” Your face showing your embarrassment. “Then, what? Did I hurt you?” your girlfriend had her prosthetic off again, so her flesh hand did most of the touching. “No, you’re just really nice. That’s all.”

“Nice? I’m really nice?” She repeated, “what does that mean?”

“It means I love you.”

“Oh? That’s.. new.” Her brows raised in surprise. “I love you, too. Even though you cry over stupid things.”

“Those were happy tears—“ “Yeah, alright. You had me worried about happy tears.”

[marcyvamp1re-blog]

SILLY LITTLE BAT

pairings ⸺ Yandere! Platonic! Batfamily x Anti-Hero! Fem!reader.

sinopsis ⸺ In the shadowed halls of Wayne Manor, a girl lost among the darkness seeks the connection she never had. Her mother, a kleptomaniac with a broken heart, vanished, leaving only echoes of empty promises. Surrounded by a family that never sees her, her pain turns into a deafening silence. The void left by her past traps her in a limbo of solitude and sorrow.

One dark night, seeking her own way, she became what she once despised. Now, like the albino bat rejected by its own flock, she flies alone in the twilight. Her pale skin glows in the dark, but her heart still yearns for the warmth of a home she never came to know.

warnings ⸺ Dark Themes, Dead, murdering,Disturbing Content, Unhealthy Obsession, Discrimination, Violence, Blood, LGBT Content, Child Abuse, Kidnapping, Implicit Sexual Content, Mental Illness, Addiction, Suicide, Torture, Corruption, Isolation, Trauma, Phobias, Paranoia, Manipulation

Chapter Guide! Pt 2. Pt 3. Pt4

A/N — English is not my first language—Spanish is—so there might be some grammar or spelling mistakes here and there. This is the first part of a story I’m writing for a friend (Isabel, I love you, you brat), and also an experiment to see what it’s like to write on Tumblr. Please support me! :"((

Nobody is coming to save you

Get up.

Your mother was not a good woman, and that was an undeniable fact, heavy as the shadow that covers Gotham City at nightfall. She was a creature of the underworld, one among the specters that wandered under the yoke of crime, walking among dangerous names like Selina Kyle or Harleen Quinzel, yet always remaining in the background, never reaching their fame or infamy.

She was nothing more than a kleptomaniac and a mythomaniac, doomed to live by cunning and deceit. She took advantage of the men who crossed her path, from the lowest criminals, like The Penguin, to the most powerful man in the city: Bruce Wayne.

You never called him Dad. To you, he was always Bruce, and on the rare occasions you addressed him, you did so with distant formality, "Mr. Wayne." Richard, your adoptive brother, found in him a father figure, while to you, he was just another shadow in the mansion, that huge, cold house you arrived at after your mother’s death.

You remember how, time and again, you tried to warn your mother to stop stealing, to stop lying, that those dark paths would inevitably lead her to Arkham Asylum, surrounded by all the lunatics you feared so much, or even worse: to death. But she always responded with a playful smile, stroking your head with her delicate hands, adorned with stolen jewelry and crude tattoos. "Those are just fantasies of an eight-year-old girl," she would say sweetly, while her ring-laden fingers assured you that you needn’t worry, "I will always come back for you," she promised, "because you are the only thing more valuable than any diamond I’ve ever held."

But the cruel truth was that was the last time you saw her. That night she left, and she never returned. It was then that the last vestiges of innocence faded with her absence. From that moment on, you ceased to be a child.

And that was one of the few things you understood with absolute clarity. There were no more empty promises, no more caresses tinged with lies. All that remained was the silence of a life fading away, like a stolen jewel that never returns to its rightful owner.

The only thing you knew after calling the police when your mother didn’t show up after two days was that they found her corpse in a back alley far from Gotham, showing signs of having been beaten and bruised by some underground gang.

Commissioner Gordon searched the entire house for illicit substances and signs of debts to mobsters, but he only ended up finding documents, stolen jewelry, and letters from your mother that were never sent, and most importantly, DNA evidence implicating that the city’s millionaire was your biological father.

From then on, your life was stained with eternal gray, that muted shade that erased all traces of light or shadow. There was no more white or black, only a silent fog that, day by day, enveloped you and dragged you into a madness that seemed inevitable. Gotham itself seemed more alive than the place you called home, although "home" was never the right word.

You didn’t love any of the Wayne family members. Bruce, your biological father, never listened to you. To him, you were always just another shadow, a ghost in the vast mansion that he prioritized over his other children, his "true" heirs. There was always something more important, something more urgent, and your presence faded among the cold walls and the echo of his hurried footsteps. With each passing day, you became more invisible to him, as if your very existence were a mistake he preferred to ignore.

Richard, the perfect brother, was kind on some occasions. He spoke to you courteously, but when you needed him, when you asked him to attend one of your performances, there was always an excuse, something that kept him away, as if your passion and accomplishments were insignificant details in his heroic life.

Jason, on the other hand, despised you from the start. He saw you as an intruder, a child of gold—but not of that pure and valuable gold, but of a dirty and false one, which he always mocked with disdain. And although you never cared for him, when he died, silent tears rolled down your face. It wasn’t out of love, but out of respect for what he represented, for the brutal reality of his fall.

Tim, in contrast, was the most indifferent. To him, you were a nobody, so irrelevant that you weren’t even worth a glance. Spending time with his friends or being the Robin of the moment mattered more than you did. You lived on his periphery, in a limbo where neither your name nor your face seemed to exist.

Cassandra, Stephanie, Barbara… at least they treated you with politeness, but you knew they didn’t really remember who you were. They saw you, smiled at you out of obligation, but deep down you knew they had no idea of your name, your story, your struggle to be more than a shadow in that world.

The worst of all was Damian, your younger half-brother. When he arrived at the mansion, Alfred introduced him to you with that serene formality he always had, and you, driven by an almost desperate impulse, tried to reach out to him. You wanted to offer him the support and affection of an older sister, that warmth you would have longed for in his situation. But all you received in return was a cold response: a katana piercing your abdomen. I wish I could say it was just a metaphor, but no, that wound was as real as the blade that cut your skin.

You would have liked to think that the pain was symbolic, that Damian had only rejected your affection with harsh words or his usual arrogance. But no, it was much more than that. The only thing you received in exchange for your attempt at fraternal love was a stab, a scar you still carry not only on your body but also in your soul. Because in that brutal gesture, you understood that the blood that united you also separated you, sharper than any weapon. And that was how you tried to connect.

You strived to stand out, to learn, to shine in your own ambitions, wishing that your success would be enough to earn you a place, a bit of affection. But no matter how hard you tried, it was never enough. Your talent crashed against indifference, your achievements faded into the air, as if they had no weight in the lives of others.

The only light, the only beacon in that storm of gray, was Alfred. The only one who smiled at you with genuine tenderness, the only one you truly loved. To you, he was the real father, the one who was always there, expecting nothing in return, offering you a silent but firm love. You did call him father, and his presence was the only thing that kept your sanity, the only thing preventing the gray from consuming you completely.

But even that love, so genuine and deep, was not enough to fill the void that your own family left you. And in that void, you continue to float, trapped between the girl you were and the woman you are trying to be, searching for a place you can truly call home.

Y/n's small room, though modest, had always been her refuge. The walls were adorned with unfinished sketches, trophies from various activities, and some paintings she had completed with dedication, showcasing her passion for both manual and performing arts.

The dawn light filtered softly through the curtains, bathing the space in golden tones, giving it a warmth that contrasted with the coldness of the rest of Wayne Manor.

On the desk, a small cake rested on a plate, simple yet made with love. Beside it, Alfred, with his usual understated elegance, watched Y/n with a mixture of nostalgia and concern. He, the only one who seemed to remember her birthday, offered her a delicate professional drawing set, wrapped in smooth, elegant paper.

"Happy birthday, Miss," Alfred said with a gentle smile, although his eyes reflected a sadness that was hard to conceal. "I know how much you love art, so I thought this would be helpful for your new projects."

Y/n took the gift in her hands with a genuine smile. It had been so hard for her to find moments of joy lately, but Alfred's gesture filled her with a warmth in her chest that she hadn't experienced in a long time. She placed the gift into one of the many brown boxes she had prepared for her upcoming move.

"Thank you, Alfred. It's perfect," she said, examining the set carefully, as if each detail were a reminder of the affection he held for her. "It will help me a lot... although, well," she sighed, as if searching for the right words. "Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that." Alfred raised an eyebrow, attentive, as she continued, glancing at the small space that had been her home within the vast mansion.

"Today... today is not just my birthday. It's the day I leave here." Her voice was firm, yet there was a sense of liberation in it, as if this were a long-awaited step. "I am finally no longer a Wayne. I go back to being a L/n."

Silence filled the room for a moment, heavy and dense. Alfred clasped his hands, striving to maintain his composure.

"Miss, I can't help but feel a certain unease hearing this. Are you sure this is what you want? This house, though empty in many ways, has always been your home..."

"Home?" Y/n looked at him with a mix of sadness and determination. "This house has never been my home, Alfred. Not like it was for Dick, nor even for Bruce. I have always been a stranger here, the daughter of a woman who never fit into this world, the bastard child. My mother taught me to find my own path, to not cling to what doesn’t belong to me... and being here, being called Wayne, has never belonged to me." Alfred sighed softly, turning his gaze toward the window. He knew there was truth in her words, but that didn’t lessen the pain of her leaving. "I know it’s hard to understand," Y/n continued, "but for the first time in a long time, I feel happy, Alfred. I’ve graduated, college is just around the corner, and I want to start anew. I want to find what truly makes me, me... not what others expect of me."

The old butler remained silent for a few moments, nodding slowly. He knew he couldn't retain her, that it was not his place to interfere in the young woman's dreams. But still, he couldn’t help but feel a pang in his heart at the thought of the house being even emptier without her. "I just wish you find what you’re looking for, Miss. And if you ever need a place to return to... this door will always be open for you."

Y/n stepped closer to him, gently hugging him, something she had rarely done. "Thank you, Alfred," she whispered against his shoulder. "You will always be my family, but I need this. I need to discover who I am outside of this last name."

The old butler felt the lump in his throat as he tightened the embrace a little longer before letting her go. He knew that deep down, she was doing the right thing. But that didn’t make it hurt any less to see her leave.

"Alfred, can you call the movers? I’ll be leaving tonight," Y/n said as she closed the last box with trembling hands, her gaze lost in the empty corners of the room she once considered her refuge. The butler, ever serene, nodded with his unwavering calmness.

"Don't worry, Miss, I assure you they will be here on time." His voice was soft, almost an echo of the ancient walls of the mansion, as if he himself were part of that structure that had seen so many comings and goings, so many lives broken and healed in silence.

Alfred turned halfway to leave, but Y/n's voice stopped him, broken yet sweet, like a melody at sunset. "Alfred..."

The man turned slowly, his eyes filled with paternal warmth, though always contained behind a formal gesture. "Yes, Miss?" he replied, with that tranquility that had always brought Y/n peace in her worst moments.

She took a breath, feeling how the words she had kept for so long fought to come out, to break the shell she had built since childhood. "I’ve never told you, but... thank you. Thank you for being the father I never had, for being there when no one else was."

For a moment, the silence in the room was heavier than all the accumulated boxes, deeper than any word. Alfred, who had been a witness to so many confessions and secrets in that house, stood still, his eyes shining with an emotion he rarely showed. "Miss," he murmured, his voice slightly choked, "it was an honor and a privilege to take care of you. If I ever gave you anything close to what you deserved, then my life has had true purpose."

Y/n smiled sadly, nodding slowly. "You did, Alfred. You did. And for that, I will always carry you with me, even if I leave here."

The butler slightly bowed his head in respect, swallowing any emotion that might betray his composure. "Wherever you go, you will always have a home here, Miss."

"I know," she said, though in her heart, she knew she wouldn’t return.

And as Alfred left the room to make the call, Y/n let out a long sigh, as if with it, she were leaving behind a part of herself, a part she could no longer carry with her.

Life in Gotham is like constantly walking on the edge of a razor blade. The city never sleeps, always alert, always dangerous, and for someone with the Wayne surname, the risks multiply. It has been a year since you left the mansion, trying to erase any ties that bound you to that life, desperately wishing the name would fade into the echo of the dirty streets and crumbling buildings. But it's not that easy. The name Wayne remains an indelible mark that the media and the people of Gotham refuse to let fade. The forgotten child, the silent accident of billionaire Bruce Wayne. And although you try to live as if you don’t exist under that shadow, the weight of the legacy haunts you.

You left with little, barely enough money to rent a small apartment in one of the worst corners of the city. You share the space with a friend, a plant-loving girl who has filled every nook of the place with leaves and pots, as if trying to make green defy the constant darkness of Gotham. You get along well with her; her love for nature is almost an antithesis to the chaos of the city, and she has taught you that even in the hardest concrete, something can bloom. She always accompanied you on the coldest, loneliest nights, giving you a warmth that, although ethereal, was very welcome. But still, life is not easy. You barely survive, spending the little you have on cheap food and paying the rent. There are days when the cold seeps through the poorly sealed windows, and you wonder if it was really better to be in the mansion instead of this little trench. However, you prefer this rough freedom to the soulless luxury of Wayne Manor.

Freedom, however, comes at a price. It wasn't enough to distance yourself, to change your life, or even to always carry a knife for defense. Gotham does not forget. People recognize you in the shadows, whisper your name, and approach you, sometimes with curiosity and other times with disdain. You have been beaten more than once. Some just for being a Wayne, others because they think they can extort you, even though they have no idea you can barely get by. The scars on your body bear witness to those beatings, but you refuse to give up. You get up every morning, despite the pain, and continue on your way. You don’t need Batman. You don’t need Bruce. You learned long ago that he wouldn't come to save you.

That night, like so many others, you were heading to the subway for your night shift, with the hood of your coat covering your face, trying to go unnoticed. The sound of the tracks echoed in your ears, a constant reminder of the city's hustle. You had gotten used to walking fast, avoiding eye contact, as if each step was a small battle won against the city. But this time, something was different.

"So it was true, the little Wayne girl is roaming the city... how lovely." The raspy, mocking voice rang out beside you, cutting through the heavy air of the train station. The man speaking wore a suit that, at first glance, seemed elegant, but there was something about his extreme thinness, his skin clinging to his bones and his disheveled hair, that made him look more like a specter of Gotham than a distinguished figure. A ghost from the shadows that had stalked you since you set foot on the streets.

If it weren't for his gaunt appearance and unsettling aura, you might have mistaken him for one of your father's employees. "I'm not a Wayne anymore," you said disdainfully, your voice sharp like the edge of a dagger refusing to be touched. "If you want money, I don’t have any. And Mr. Wayne wouldn’t give a cent for me either."

Your gaze drifted to the station clock. 8 minutes until the train that would take you away from this corner of Gotham, far from the shadows and faces that always seemed to recognize you.

The man let out a dry, raspy laugh that sent chills down your spine. "I don’t want your money, pretty girl," he replied, moving closer, invading your space with the same familiarity that Gotham’s filth slipped into every corner. "You’re worth more than that." You felt his calloused, scarred hand rest on your hip, with a pressure that was neither violent nor friendly. The contact filled you with disgust.

7 minutes.

You clenched your fist, your jaw tight as you struggled to maintain your composure. "I don’t want sex either, idiot," you spat, your words loaded with contained fury. Your hand subtly slid toward your bag, where your knife lay, waiting to be used.

6 minutes.

The man didn’t flinch. In fact, he let out a low, mocking laugh. "And I don’t want that either, little girl," he murmured, his cold, deep blue eyes scrutinizing you as if they could read every dark corner of your soul. "I want something more from you."

5 minutes.

"What do you want then?" you asked, forcing yourself to keep your voice steady, even as the ice of fear began to creep down your spine. Your eyes scrutinized him, searching his gaze for any hint of his true intentions, but all you saw was darkness.

4 minutes.

He let out a long, chilling laugh, tightening his grip on your hip. "Do you know what I want, Y/n?"

3 minutes.

His voice dropped, as if his words were a cursed secret the wind refused to carry away. "I want you."

2 minutes.

The world seemed to stop. You knew there was no time to run. There was no time to pull out the knife or to scream. It was as if the clock itself had conspired against you, reducing those last minutes to mere seconds.

1 minute.

The blow was sharp, a flash of excruciating pain at the back of your head. The cold metal of the station, the hum of the city, everything faded abruptly. The last thought that crossed your mind, before the world vanished into darkness, was that this time, you didn’t expect Batman to save you. It wasn’t a mere thief or a street threat that was taking you.

Gotham, with all its cruelty, always had new ways to remind you that there is no escape.

That night, when the Gotham subway stopped at the station, there was no one to pick up.

The mansion felt emptier than ever, like a deserted and cold labyrinth, where each hallway seemed to stretch into an infinite tunnel, devouring the light.

The silence was overwhelming, an oppression that enveloped every corner, as if even the ancient walls had run out of words. It was so heavy that the few who remained in the mansion couldn’t help but move uncomfortably, trying to fill that void with something, anything.

Bruce Wayne walked through those same hallways with a strange feeling, as if something was missing, though he didn’t know what. An unease, a persistent discomfort that he couldn’t shake off.

He had been like this for months, with that absence haunting his mind, a gap he couldn't identify. And then, suddenly, like a gust of icy wind, the truth struck him.

You.

His daughter.

His little daughter.

How long had it been since he last saw you? When was the last time he heard your laughter, the one that always seemed too sarcastic, too filled with resentment? He stopped abruptly, frowning. Why couldn’t he remember you? He couldn’t bring to mind a clear image of your face, not even how you used to look at him... why? How could he have forgotten you like that?

Damn.

It was as if time had stopped. It had been a year, maybe more, since he had really thought about you. He felt a pang of guilt pierce his chest, a heavy, silent guilt that dragged him into the abyss of his own negligence. Not knowing what else to do, he began to check the rooms, one after another.

Each door he opened was another blow to his conscience. Where was your room? The more he searched, the more confused he felt. The mansion was enormous, but how could he have forgotten where you slept? How was it possible that he didn’t know where you lived in the house where both of you grew up? Had you been here all this time?

Each door he opened was identical to the last, as if all the rooms had fused into one.

None showed a trace of you.

None seemed to have a hint of your presence. Didn’t you decorate your room? He thought frantically, didn’t you even mark it as yours? Panic began to take hold of him. Anxiety wrapped around him like a fist tightening on his chest. Were you still living in the mansion? Or had you left without saying a word, like a shadow fading at dawn? But... no, you hadn’t mentioned anything. You hadn’t said you were leaving. Or had you? And if you had, why didn’t he remember? How could he have ignored you for so long that now he didn’t even know if you were still under the same roof?

“Ah!” he exclaimed in a whisper, unable to contain the dread he felt.

Frustration consumed him from within. He stopped in the middle of the hallway, breathing heavily, and the echo of his voice faded into the empty walls. He tried to remember something, anything about you, about the last time they spoke, about how you were... but everything was blurry, as if his mind was betraying him, hiding you behind an impenetrable fog.

How could he have forgotten so much?

He brought his hands to his head, trying to calm himself, but only felt more confusion, more desperation. The mansion, which had once been his home, now felt like a strange and foreign place.

Had you been the one who made it feel like home? The question echoed in his mind, but he had no answer. Just more questions. More uncertainties. Finally, he let his arms fall, exhausted. He had checked almost all the rooms and had found not a trace of you. Not a clue. Not a sign that you had been there. And at that moment, something dark and painful began to settle in his heart.

Had you ever really been there?

Then something caught his attention as he passed by the cleaning room. In a dusty corner, next to a forgotten bag, something was protruding. Something small, old, and faded. He bent down and pulled it from the dirty clothes. It was a stuffed animal, or what was left of one. The faded black of its suit left no doubt. It was a figure of Batman, but worn down by time, battered to the point of looking forgotten.

Bruce's eyes were fixed on the small piece of fabric hanging from the doll's neck. A tag.

Your name.

Your name, handwritten, in ink that was already fading.

Bruce felt a lump in his throat, a mix of guilt and rage. How could he have forgotten something so important?

He clutched the doll tightly, as if doing so would return a piece of you to him, but instead of comfort, he only felt more emptiness. Where were you? He ran to Alfred, who looked at him with a mix of concern and pity.

"Alfred..." Bruce said, his voice breaking. "Where is she? Where is my daughter?"

The butler, with his always serene face, seemed to age suddenly. A long silence settled between them, as if time was fading away. "Mr. Bruce, I didn’t mean to..." Alfred lowered his gaze. "I didn’t want to burden you with that truth, but... it’s time you know."

Bruce felt a chill run down his spine. Truth? What truth?

"She left almost a year ago. She didn’t say where. She just... she took all her belongings, though they weren’t many, and left. She said she didn’t want to be a burden. That you and the other family members had too many things to worry about."

Bruce took a step back, as if the words had physically struck him. Did she have enough age to leave? A burden? Never, not for a second, did he think that of you, of his little daughter who, even though she wasn’t wanted, he embraced under his wing just like Damian.

You were never a burden.

...or were you?

No, he refused to acknowledge it; he just... he hadn’t spent time with you because Gotham needed him!

But when you needed him, where was Batman?

Where was Bruce Wayne when his only biological daughter needed him?

"Alfred, do you know anything about Y/n?" the hero asked, worry clear on his face.

Alfred didn’t look at him; he only stared into nothingness. "...I haven’t heard anything about her for two months...

And honestly... I'm starting to think...

that she might be lost to us forever..."

A/N — This is definitely apart from being my first official Tumblr post, it is also my first DC post and especially the first from the Lord of the Night xD

Don't hesitate to ask me anything if you want.

Isabel, I dedicate this to you, my love. Eat more to be well, you fucking anorexic, don't suck.

take a bath!

inspiration: @acid-ixx with his Again & Again series, @gotham-daydreams' work, @i-cant-sing's work and @klemen-tine's work, be sure to check them out!

[sena-seastar]

Bad Sleeping Habits

Dad!Aemond x Wife!Reader

Summary: Aemond has trouble being firm with your daughter.

A/N: This is just a little drabble I wrote. No beta, so I apologize for any spelling and grammar mistakes!

Aemond had always been a light sleeper, even more so after the birth of your daughter. He had always been the first to wake up and rush to her side anytime she made the slightest noise. So when he heard her shuffling out of bed in the middle of the night, he woke up immediately. He didn’t get up, instead choosing to wait and see what she was up to.

The two of you had been trying to get Daenys into the habit of sleeping in her own bed. To say it was a struggle would be an understatement. The two of you had let her sleep between you a few times, and apparently, she took that to mean she had to sleep in your bed every night.

Aemond didn’t honestly mind it. He loved every minute of it. He knows that once she gets older, he won’t get those moments when he can hold her close and have her sleep in his arms anymore. So he wants to hold on to her as long as he can. 

Aemond kept perfectly still as he felt the blanket at the bottom of the bed being tugged down. He used one of his hands to hold onto it so that it would not completely slip off the bed, as Daenys used it as a ladder to climb onto the bed. He pretends to be asleep, though he cracks his eye open just enough to watch his little girl, in case she slips.

She let out a little grunt as she successfully reached the top. Aemond doesn’t move as she climbs over him, most likely trying to take her usual place between the two of you.

He does his best not to cry out when her knee accidentally digs into the flesh of his thigh. He doesn’t want to frighten his little girl or, even worse, wake you up. So, he does his best to bear the pain.

He waits until she reaches the top of the bed before rolling over to face her. She freezes, her eyes wide open, knowing she’s been caught. Though her shock quickly turns to amusement. Daenys gives him a cheeky smile.

“Why are you out of bed?” He whispers. “Go back to sleep,” he scolds her playfully.

“Nuh-uh,” she shakes her head, making her little silver curls shake side to side.

 Daenys sits back on her heels—a mischievous glint in her eyes.

Aemond lifts his hands, trying to brace himself. He makes it just in time before she throws herself on top of him. Her little arms wrap around his shoulders, squeezing him tightly as she buries her face into his neck. Messy, silver curls tickle his nose. Aemond shakes his head, trying to push her hair away.

“Fine, you can stay,” he sighs, “but your mother won’t be pleased with us in the morning.”

He grabbed the blanket, pulling it over the both of them.

She yawned, nuzzling her cheek against his shoulder. “Night, night, kepa.” 

“Goodnight, my little dragon.” He hummed, gently running his hand over her back.

Aemond stared up at the canopy, and once again, he found himself wondering how he had gotten here. What had he done to deserve such happiness? The man had always known he would marry and eventually have children someday. He was a Targaryen prince, after all. Yet he had never imagined it would make him feel so... content. 

“You spoil her too much,” you mumble drowsily.

Aemond turned his head, finding you with your head still buried in your pillow.

“She’s a princess. It's practically in the job description.” He smirked. “Besides, you don't seem to mind when I spoil you.”

“Fine,” you sigh. “But she’s sleeping in her own bed tomorrow.”

Aemond reached over and grabbed your hand. He lifted it, pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

“Goodnight, my love.”

[writersblockiskillingme]

Hook with the daughter of Ariel or something like that. With them being in a secret little relationship but he’s always trying to come up to her and flirt with her. Maybe Uliana finds out and freaks out the rest is up to you

Secret | James Hook

Pairing: James Hook x fem!reader (Ariel's!sister!reader)

Summary: Once Uliana figures out your secret, everything comes crushing down.

Warning/s: angst, but with a happy ending, fluff, keeping secrets, fight, short fic, possible grammar and/or spelling mistakes

Author's note: It's here, hope you enjoy!! Also, I made the reader Ariel's sister because in my head, it fits the timeline.

Honestly, nobody had any idea how it happened. You were Ariel's sister. He was a pirate. How in the world did you manage to end up together?!

Well... truth to be told... it happened so suddenly, just like when the storm in the middle of the sea happens. Nobody really expects it, but it arrives it crashes you with its whole might. Leaving you breathless.

It was a normal, sunny day when you met him. You were walking down the corridor, just trying to get to Merlin's class. Clutching your book in your hands, you found yourself outside as you came face to face with Hook. In the middle of the courtyard. All alone. His back was turned to you, and with that finding, you felt the sigh of relief leave your body pass your lips. It doesn't matter, you thought to yourself. So you decided to keep walking. You did not want to be late to class.

But it seems like the luck wasn't on your side that day. He turned around and walked up to you as he yelled out.

"Ahoy there, mermaid!" He smirked as your eyes met. "Skipping class again, I see. What's your excuse this time? Lost your voice singing to the fishes?"

James Hook, now leaning against a stone pillar, hook on his right hand and a mischievous glint in his eyes as his eyes scanned you.

"Hook, I unline you, am actually trying to now get there in time." You rolled your eyes at his teasing but decided that maybe it was time for you to finally tease him back a bit. "But don't worry, I've got a treasure map to Merlin's class. Care to actually join me?"

You saw a little tint of blush forming on his face, but you must have imagined it. And just as you thought that this would be the end of your conversation, he did something that left you stunned.

"Merlin's class? That's the real curse of Neverland. But I'd follow you anywhere, little mermaid." He gave you a wink, smirking.

You found yourself blushing, but no... it... it can't be. Luckily, you quickly regained your composure and continued your, playful, rivalry banter.

"You know, pirate, I've heard rumors about your hook. Is it true you lost it in a duel with a giant squid?" You leaned over closer to him.

"Aye, but it wasn't just any squid—it was the one that stole my heart." He smirked as he leaned down, closer to your face. "But now, here I am, a one-handed pirate with a penchant for trouble and a weakness for mermaid smiles."

You found yourself laughing at his flirting. You couldn't help it, it was just so... so endearing.

"Well, Captain, I've got a secret too." You said, with a little smirk planted on your face. "I've hidden my voice in a shell. Only the right kiss can unlock it. Interested?"

And so you did that for a while until you two were actually late for Merlin's class. You walked in, and Hook did not. But there was no way that you would admit to anyone, even your friends, why you walked into the class flushed, cheeks pink, with a stupid smile on your face.

You do, of course, realize that this was a bit abnormal. He was a pirate and part of Uliana's crew. You were a mermaid princess, daughter of the Triton himself. It was not normal, but as the days passed and what was a true rivalry, banter turned into just pure flirting, you found yourself not really caring.

As weeks passed and the flirting continued, somehow, you found yourself having a pirate boyfriend. After all of that, Hook and you started dating. Somehow.

And it was better than you ever expected it to be. You sometimes felt like, outside of Uliana's crew, you were the only one that he was nice to. It was... perplexing. But you loved it.

However, you both agreed that you should keep your relationship a secret for a while for both of your sakes. You weren't dumb. You both knew how your friends would react if you told them that you were dating. So that's how it all started. Secret stolen glances when nobody was looking, passing notes in class, stolen kisses when you were all alone, and, of course, flirty teasing banter.

That's how you found yourself, pressed against a tree in the school's courtyard, Hook with his hand by your head, his hook under your chin, trapping you.

"You're a siren in a landlocked school." He spoke, looking into your eyes. "Your voice could raise sunken ships, and your smile—well, that's my undoing."

"Tell me, Hook, do you ever dream of flying?" You asked as you started to trace your finger along his hook. "Not in a ship, but with wings made of stardust?"

He looked at you, captivated.

"Every night, my dear. And in my dreams, you're the compass guiding me through constellations." He leaned down towards you, your lips almost meating until something happened. Something that would change this forever.

"Hook!!" The terrifyingly hight and mighty voice rang out along the school courtyard.

You both turned around and froze as you came face to face with Uliana, Hades, Maleficent and a few more people that joined the courtyard when they heard yelling.

"But reality has a way of clipping my wings." Hook sighed as he moved away from you slowly, your heart speading up and breaking at the same time.

"Are you out of your mind?!" Uliana screamed. "What are you doing with a mermaid?!"

That's when you noticed something. Yes, Hook moved away from you, but his hand with his hook that was under your chin was now placed on your waist, still holding you close to him.

"Calm down, Uliana." Hook spoke up, looking at him.

"Calm down?!" Uliana yelled, absolutely fuming. "Are you seriously telling me to calm down right now?!"

"Yes." Hook said, "Yes, I am."

"Don't play games with me, Hook." She threatened before throwing a glance your way, smirking as she plotted against you. "If you don't stop doing whatever you're doing with this one, you will no longer be a part of my crew."

A moment of science was heard around the courtyard, and you know that it was over. He couldn't give up on his crew, and you most certainly did not want him to, so that means that your relationship has reached its inevitable end. Your heart was breaking as you looked on the ground, slowly moving away from Hook.

"You won't do that." He spoke up, his voice strong, ringing out. "We won't end our relationship." He turned to you and brought you closer to him once again, smiling at you before turning to Uliana with a determined look.

"You know that you need me whether you liked it or not. So, no, you won't throw me away from the rest of the crew. And even if you do, it doesn't matter. I still have her, and that is something that nothing will be able to change." He spoke as her face was formed into pure shock.

"So good day." He sarcastically bowed before he ruined around with you and walked away.

"Don't worry, she'll come around." You looked at him. "Maybe..."

"I honestly don't really care." He shrugged, his eyes ringing with truth. "I have you now, little mermaid, that's all I need and so much more, really."

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TAGLIST:

@xoxo-h3arts @i-am-fork @a-homosexual-homosapien @snixx2088 @heartsfromcoco @ariaroseloklover @isafran1125 @gayfrog29 @mystic-mae

[cheyisagirlkisser]

Breaking Your Walls: E.W

Content: Ellie Williams x Fem! reader, sexual content, Santa Barbara setting, near-death situation, porn with plot basically, oral sex (r! receiving), tribbing, sex on the shores, may contain grammar or spelling mistakes

݁Word Count: 4.3k

Description: You're used to moving from group to group in California, not wanting to stick around to watch someone you get attached to die. Ellie's on her own revenge mission in Santa Barbara when she sees you in the worst possible situation. You try not to open up to her, not wanting to actually feel something for someone who can die at any moment, but it's hard when she's everything you could ask for. Enjoy!

You were tied up to the wooden beam as it rot along with you. Your wrists were sore and probably red, your mind fuzzy with the blood loss. All of the labor done at the orders of cruel people, the countless hours all spent for naught, only to die on some pathetic wooden stake.

When you left your group, you thought it would be a fresh start. Los Angeles settlements were always safe, but sometimes you craved more. You didn't have a family, so you travelled a lot. It was easier to hop from place to place than to settle down. It was always easier not to fall in love with the people you met or to even feel an attachment to them. So when you left for Santa Barbara, you were feeling that adrenaline from survival. It was quite addictive.

Most people would say that living in a post-apocalyptical reality should not have been romanticized. It was constant grief, violence, and an embarrassing lack of hygiene amongst all people. But those who actually experienced it all knew the bond formed along with the trauma. Maybe that's why so many people willingly left the safety of settlements or mass groups. There was too much routine, and it's almost impossible to get used to not having to rely on pure wit and survival instincts.

There was no denying the dangers of travelling in your world, however. There was no way of pretending, not when you were currently on your death bed. Or more accurately, your death pillar. You only wanted to have another reckless adventure, and look where that got you. You had already accepted the death offered to you upon this pole, however. Now it was only a matter of actually dying.

The sun was constantly beating down upon you, mocking you in a way. You remembered how much you used to love the sun. Your mother would teach you sayings that got you through rather tough times.

"The nights may be rough, and you may doubt you'll even be alive in the morning. However, the sun will always come back out. The day will be new."

There wasn't much to believe in now that the sun was seeming to drain your body of its livelihood even more than you were already enduring. You were starving and you could feel your body giving up on your will to live. The first few days you had tried to escape and found no hope once you watched the other slaves around you practically drop like flies. You weren't even sure how long it had been since you were able to touch the ground. You just hoped the afterlife would be good to you, and maybe you would find your family once more.

You swear you almost saw the pearly gates and for some reason, it hurt. You hit the ground with a thud and your vision was betraying you more than you could ever predict. There was possibly a person standing over you, one who wasn't much taller than you. And then you lost consciousness.

-

You awoke to a cold rag on your face, and you felt some dusty couch underneath you. You were somewhere in California still, you could tell by the window outside and the heat that still harassed your skin. You saw the figure once more and your vision finally adjusted.

She looked unhealthy too, lanky with her ribs slightly visible even through her bloodied tank top. Her hair was messy and an auburn shade that seemed to reflect some reddish undertones when she shifted and the sun hit the strands just right. She looked as if she had been injured, and you were puzzled to how she seemed so unbothered by her state.

"You're awake." She stated as if you didn't already know that. She wore a cautious expression, and you could tell she wasn't keen on trusting you yet. You couldn't blame her, but it was obvious you were also in no position to harm her.

You let out a shaky breath and tried to sit up, but a wave of dizziness fell over you. You were reminded of how hungry you were, and your throat was dry with the need for water. The girl seemed to notice, and tossed you a flask.

"Drink slowly, or you're gonna end up heaving up water. You look like a fucking corpse, you know that?" Her words were harsh but laced with some concern her face tried to lack. You tried to hold back from chugging the water. It was warm and probably not the most fresh, but you were desperate. The liquid went down your throat and you couldn't help but wonder who this angel woman was. She seemed to even match her actions with her appearance; there was just a hint of a flutter your stomach couldn't suppress when you glanced at her. Maybe it was nausea, but regardless, you found her beautiful. Like some auburn-haired savior.

"What's your name?" You asked, your voice raspy with disuse.

She didn't seem to mind. "Ellie. Yours?"

"It's (name)," you replied.

Ellie nodded and and appeared stuck in her own thoughts. You noticed the way she fidgeted with her fingers, and you wondered how someone who looked so intimidating could be awkward. You really, wanted to know what happened to her, given her own brash condition.

"You look fucked up. You should probably eat." She finally commented, and you nodded. You tried not to seem too desperate, but you really needed some sustenance. Ellie walked over to her backpack and picked up a can of beef stew off of the ground. She unzipped the backpack, pulling out a well-used can opener. You tried not to stare too hard at the way her biceps flexed as she moved around.

She returned to you with the can and a spoon, and you noticed how much softer her face appeared than it did when you had woken up.

"Here. Eat slowly, or don't complain if you puke it all up." You couldn't help but smile at the hint of humor in her words, and you tried to savor the feeling of food in your mouth instead of trying to finish it all in under five minutes. She observed, probably wondering whether or not to make any more comments for you to listen to. She knew she should just be quiet, but Ellie had a tendency to not care much. She could be dearly honest when it was needed, even though you looked like the last thing you needed was for someone to tell you that you smelled like body odor and garbage.

"Girls like you end up in groups just like the Rattlers all of the time, you know." Her voice was measured, not knowing why she blurted that out.

"Well, yeah. Anyone around here is vulnerable to them." You defended yourself.

"I just don't understand why you're here, then. I'm assuming you knew about slavers here in Cali. It's swarming with 'em." She raised an eyebrow at you; she couldn't help but wonder just what you were doing here.

"I've lived in California for a while now." You stated as if it was nothing, but Ellie wasn't dumb.

"I could've figured that out, but that means you're smart enough to know better than to travel alone in a fucked up area."

At least with those words, you took a pause. She saw right through you. You cleared your throat further, and spoke again. "I've been travelling along my entire life, I know the risks."

Ellie scoffed. "Yeah, good for you. Knowing the risks doesn't mean running around any less foolish."

"I don't see you with a group. You're just alone as me." You countered, and you noticed the way Ellie's eyes flickered down.

"Yeah, I guess you're right. Sorry.." She sighed and brought a hand to her face, tucking a stray auburn piece behind her ear.

The silence grew uncomfortable. You didn't know this girl, and yet there was something in her mannerisms and words that made you feel that she would not be a passing stranger.

"Hey.." Her voice trailed off as she struggled to find the proper words. "Rest up in here. I'll go search around the area for some supplies. Don't think about moving, by the way."

You wanted to protest and tell her that you could go your separate ways as if she never saved you, but you knew that in your condition, you needed her. For once, you needed someone, and you couldn't just run off to go live your nomadic ways.

You nodded and laid back down against the couch. It was a far cry from new or even clean, but it was infinitely better than a wooden pillar.

-

As the weeks went by, you slowly recovered and gained some weight back onto your body. You knew that soon, you would be able to go your own solitary way again. However, it was annoyingly difficult to imagine doing so.

Over the weeks, Ellie's ways grew on you. It started with her smile and the way her eyes contained a hint of humor throughout herself. It was always small and you had a feeling that once, she was more carefree, but you ask her about that. Only let your heart flutter when she told you a dad joke. From there, it was then her voice and how she rasped on, sometimes not having much to say and other times telling you stories about a small settlement in Wyoming. You told yourself you were just bored from being forced to stay in the home the two of you held shelter in, but you knew damn well it was more than that.

You also knew she loved someone else. A woman named "Dina." She never told you outright, but you could see it in her body language. You were observant enough to notice the way she tried to brush it off, and only ended up looking almost child-like, like a young girl in love.

You tried not to let yourself grow a soft spot for her. She was already spoken for, at least her heart was. You had no place in her life in such a way. But it was just so hard when small moments lingered, increasing in tension. Ellie was everything to a girl that had inextricably nothing, a girl that didn't know what letting feelings linger felt like. In any other condition, perhaps you would've ran off far, far away from this auburn girl. But by some strange inconvenience, by your own body's limitations, you're here with her.

-

You were laid on the couch starting at the ceiling. You didn't know what time it was, but from the window, you guessed it was well into the night. The faint sound of crickets carried throughout the air, and you could sense Ellie's presence on the floor below you. You didn't want to glance over at her.

You could already imagine the way her face would be moonlit from the shine in her eyes, the small pieces of shaded hair, the mold of her face. It was like a being begging to be touched, how inexplicably gorgeous she was. Daydreams of having the chance to tug the strands and make her sigh, to feel her in ways you could only imagine what was like-

Now you were getting ahead of yourself.

You were supposed to be recovering so that you could leave. You needed the sleep, needed the rest for your sore body after being practically tortured for weeks, but you were restless. You let out a soft sigh, giving up. You sat up and brushed through your hair, which was in extreme need of a wash. Then, you got a stupid idea. You knew it was risky, but you were in desperate need of a rinse.

With quiet but inevitably creaking steps, you managed to slip out of the house. From the view, it was clear that you were still in Santa Barbara, just on the outskirts. the moon was the only source of light across the entire view, and you could see the water smothering moist sand at the shore of the beach. It wasn't far; maybe a five minute walk. With a deep breath of courage, you took the walk.

Your body was in much better condition than it was weeks ago, but it still was a far cry from the body it used to be, the one that could handle itself. Now, you felt vulnerable, knowing that if infected were to catch a glimpse of you, you'd have to pull a you and run. You wouldn't be guaranteed an escape, though.

Your shoes made a soft crunching noise against the beach. You kicked your shoes off and then slipped free from your jeans, your shirt, and then finally undergarments. The breeze was slightly cool, but only heightened the feelings conflicting in your mind from being naked on a shore in which anyone could find you. Still, you needed a damn wash.

At the feeling of cool ocean water lapping at your feet, you felt truly alive. The moon was proudly beaming above you. You used to think the moon was like some torturous level to get past, that the sun was your savior. Now, you let yourself absorb soft, cool fragments of luminosity.

Your body was now within the water to your waist. You closed your eyes, letting out deep breaths, before kneeling down into the water. The sudden submergence made you shudder, but you could feel the way the salty water mixed within your scalp and enveloped your body. When you finally surfaced, you were met with the sound of a familiar raspy voice.

"Scared the fuck out of me so you could go skinny-dipping?" She stood at the shore, brows knit together in frustration, but some worry hid beneath it.

You quickly turned around, not expecting to actually be caught. Fuck. Your hands instinctively went to cover your chest, but Ellie only sighed as if she'd already given up on lecturing you. She was used to you by now.

"Mind if I join you?" She already made quick works of kicking off her dirty converse. You only nodded, not knowing what to say. You didn't know if you could handle being naked next to her, but you couldn't explain to her that you had a stupid school-girl style crush on her. Plus, she definitely needed to get cleaned up too.

You could hear the sound of her clothes coming off and then the slight splash of her walking into the ocean. You closed your eyes and dared not to look behind you.

"Your hair is gonna be salty." You jolted when you realized she was right next to you, only a few inches of space between your bodies. Fuck, you tried not to look. It was too hard, though. Only an involuntary flicker, and you could see the way her body was practically sculpted like some goddess. Not in a conventional way, either. Her hip bones were visible through her skin, and you could faintly trace over her ribs with your gaze. Her breasts were small, but they sat beautifully on her body and her nipples were slightly hardened by the breeze. You couldn't fully make out all of her features in the dark, but the was gorgeous. So fucking gorgeous, and you had to look away before you lost your mind.

"Um, yeah. It needed a wash, though." You cleared your throat to compose yourself. Ellie's lips tugged into a slight smile, but she didn't make an effort to comment on your defensive tone.

For a few minutes, all you did was look up at the stars. They were dim, but created a portrait of beacons, and they reminded you ever so slightly of Ellie's face and how you wished to make constellations out of her freckles. The silence was comfortable but left you alone in your thoughts that you wished to hide from. It was even harder to hide from them when Ellie's fingers brushed up against your hand, slightly wet from the salty water.

"What are you doing?" You flinched away out of instinct, and immediately regretted it. You wanted her touch, why did you do that? You hated the barriers you set so naturally, not wanting anybody close.

"I'm so sorry, I just..guess I misread your face." She sounded embarrassed and slightly dejected. You were extremely nervous, not ever even letting anyone see you like this, but you couldn't help yourself.

"No, it's okay. I do.." You trailed off slightly before finding the courage to turn and face her. "I do want you to touch me." You knew you probably sounded pathetic, all shaky and quiet, but definitely certain. It was enough for Ellie.

She turned to you, her body almost grazing yours. She hesitated only slightly, her eyes following her own arm, before she finally let her hands trail up your arms. Her fingertips traced the dip in your collarbone, and you couldn't find it in you to shy away. Even though her touch was innocent, bordering on more than that, it was hard to resist when she was here offering you everything you wanted, and you were subconsciously touch-deprived.

Soon following, her lips grazed over your wrist, her eyes on yours as if seeking approval. Your breath hitched slightly at her implication and you nodded. Her mouth wasn't as slow as her hands, sliding its way up to smother soft, sensual kisses on your shoulders. When her lips met the space between your shoulder and neck, her tongue darted out to taste your salty skin, and you let out a small involuntary sound, a mix between a gasp and a moan. She pulled back to read your expression before her mouth latched onto your neck, her body now pressing against yours. You could feel her everywhere; chest to chest, hips conjoined, and it made your head spin with the need for more.

When her kisses reached your ear, she paused. "Can I kiss you?" Her heated breath was hitting your ear, making you weak in the knees.

You swallowed and nodded, but Ellie didn't seem impressed.

"Say the words." Her voice was a whisper and her words her blunt, demanding. Her tone though, it was laced with sweetness. She could probably sense your inexperience.

"I want you to kiss me." You got the words out, and Ellie was satisfied.

Her lips left soft pecks on your jawline until they reached your chin, and then with her fingers, tilted it slightly so she her lips could taste yours.

The kiss wasn't sweet like in the novels, but rather salty, and her lips chapped. You didn't mind. Her hands found your waist and tugged your body closer until there was no room between your bodies. Her tongue slid between your parted lips, making you let out a soft whine. You didn't fully know what you were doing, but your eagerness made the kiss just as good. Her kisses went from soft and gentle so sloppy, wet, and desperate. Your own hands grasped at her face, needing more. You felt a heat, an ache between your legs, but you tried not to focus on it too much. It was all an overload to you; the way her body rubbed against yours as the two of you moved, how her lips took your bottom one into into her mouth and suckled onto it, the scent of the ocean and the sand between your toes.

Before you could even register it, Ellie was guiding you back onto the shore and laying you down onto the sandy surface. Her body followed yours swiftly, her lips chasing yours back. You were a heap of tangled limbs on the ground, grains of sand stuck to your back and your hair as it was spread out against the sand. Her hips were fit snug between your thighs and her hand moved to hitch one of your legs around her waist. Your moans were swallowed by her mouth, your hands rubbing over her back to find purchase in the situation. None came.

Her lips began trailing from your own to your neck, collarbone, and then shoulders. She paused at before her breath fully hit your chest, making sure you were still wanting her. Your face was flushed even in the night, and your eyes half-lidded. That was enough for her to make contact with your boobs, taking one into her mouth and swirling her tongue around your hardened nipple. You gasped her name, fingers tugging into her hair. You could feel her smile slightly and switch to the other nipple. Her hands held your waist, squeezing it slightly as she finally moved further down. Her tongue swirled around your navel and down to your thighs. When her lips met your left inner-thigh, you let out a short breath, practically panting.

"Ellie..." Your eyes were closed, your body slightly tense in anticipation.

"Do you want this?" Ellie looked for confirmation, her lips now gently mouthing at each thigh.

"Yes, I do..but I've never done this before." You admitted weakly.

Ellie looked up when you said that and squeezed one of your hands with her own. "That's okay. Just relax for me, 'kay?"

You nodded, eyes closed, only relying on her touch. Her hands gently worked to pry your legs further apart, and you allowed her to. Then, you felt her hot breath fan over your cunt, making all blood rush to it, before licking from your hole to your clit, hardly grazing it with her tongue.

You were already wet, but that made you practically Nigeria-falls level flooded. You couldn't hold back the strange, needy sound that left your parted lips. Your body twitched, legs moving instinctively to close, but Ellie's grip on your thighs was strong. She moved to hitch your legs over her shoulders, and kissed at your thighs like a tease once more.

"Just let yourself enjoy it. Feels good, doesn't it?" You couldn't respond, only silently nodding and hoping she could understand the feelings coursing through you. When she felt you relax more, she continued her work.

Her tongue flicked at your clit before slipping into your hole, making your hips jolt slightly. She didn't stop, only letting you feel her mouth against your pussy. Ellie would occasionally let out soft vibrational sounds against you, making your head spin and your stomach flutter. It wasn't like anything you'd ever felt before. You had obviously taken care of yourself before, but having someone else's tongue inside your cunt while your legs squeezed around their head? It was another type of heaven you only understood in other types of senses, not physical pleasure.

If you were even able to think of anything besides the heat Ellie's touch provided, you would've been concerned about how you would be able to fare without this treatment every single day. But you couldn't worry, not when this felt so good. You could only appreciate it for what it was worth, and that felt like everything.

You were growing needier, hips grinding your cunt against her mouth while you chanted her name. "Ellie", "Ellie, oh god..", "Please, I'm so close Ellie-"

Your stomach was all tied in knots, and she was only encouraging the feeling and you wondered just how euphoric it'd be to finally release all over her face, to taint her with your arousal.

Soon, you just couldn't help it; the knots she had you tied up in snapped, and Ellie didn't stop, letting you ride out the high. She could hear your pants, the cries you were letting out, and the way your plush thighs practically suffocated her. All she could focus on was your taste, how you just came from her nose brushing up against your clit and her tongue filling your insides. It made her just as needy as you.

You didn't get much of a break, only some soft kisses to your thighs before she was moving up your body and spreading your wobbly legs to feel your soaked cunt against her own. You whined, overstimulated, and she leaned to nuzzle her face into your neck, spilling apologies she didn't really mean. "Sorry, baby..just need you. It's gonna feel good, I promise."

Her cunt slid against yours, hardly any resistance from the way your cum spread between the two of you. You felt so good against her, your nails digging into your back it was almost painful, yet she wouldn't protest, almost pitying your poor, overstimulated clit.

Your body felt so raw and used up, and somehow it felt even more good than before. The way she used your body for her own pleasure had you whining now, louder than the first time. The squelching sounds of your love-making filled both of your ears, and you could hear every soft huff of Ellie's breath matching the rhythm of her humping.

Soon, the intense overwhelming rawness left you, and you only felt bliss. Ellie seemed to follow suit, her movements growing sloppy and less purposeful. You could feel the wetness between the two of you combine, making the movements even louder.

When it was all over, the only noises were crickets and your heavy breathing. Ellie was collapsed on top of you for who knows how long, and her breath was finally evening out against your neck. She pulled herself up and sighed.

"Fuck."

You laughed at that. "Yeah. Fuck is right."

Her body fell back onto yours, her arms holding you tight. You could feel the uncomfortable feeling of sand covering one side of your body, but you didn't care.

After a while, Ellie asked something that usually would make you run away.

"You wanna maybe..go to Wyoming with me?"

You didn't offer much hesitation.

"Why not?"

[agustdtown1]

FOREVER GRATEFUL | JJK

PAIRING: jeon jungkook x fem!reader.

SUMMARY: jeon jungkook was a man like no other, one that cared for you and your sinful needs more than he should, and for that you will forever be grateful.

WC: 5.6k

WARNINGS: age gap, jungkook’s older than reader (although there’s no mention of a specific age), their relationship is not the healthiest but they manage, jk’s line of work is not specified but it is hinted that it’s illegal, small (very small) mention of blood, pet names (doll, princess, pretty girl…), it is hinted —and mentioned, that reader doesn’t have much experience about sex, smut, pwp (porn with plot because I got carried away, but only here and there), restraining, blindfolding, unprotected sex (be better), fingering, light choking, biting, marking, name calling (slut, dumb), jk cumming inside reader, i kinda rushed the end so it’s not that good tbh. 18+ only!

A/N: so… this is my first time writing for the boys since I created my account, I hope this is not as bad as I think it is and that you can enjoy your reading. Lmk what you think and also, english is not my first language so if there’s any grammar/spelling mistakes pls just ignore them <3!

masterlist

“Stay still.”

A husky voice rang into your ears, making a feeling as warm as the sun start to spread through your whole body; an electrifying sensation running through your veins, while goosebumps found solace on your skin. His voice has always been your favorite sound. The raspiness and low register adorning the man’s voice often got you weak in the knees, whenever he would whisper to you or call your name. And this time was no different, however, it seemed to have a stronger power over you. As magnetic as the voice of a siren, pulling the unlucky sailors out of the safety of their boats and into the depths of the cold water of the ocean; ready to devour them in such a frenzy that the last thing you could hear from the poor men was the start of a plea that would forever be unfinished.

Regardless of the difference between scenarios, the comparison seemed to be fitting. Jeon Jungkook was often described as magnetic, with the words alluring and charming following not so far behind. It would explain why you were found in such an interesting predicament at the moment.

A chill breeze brushing over your warm, bare skin, snapped you out of your wandering thoughts. The indication was short and simple. Discard your clothes from the very first moment you walk into the room and wait for him in bed. And so, your body, as many times before, was left completely exposed to Junkook’s hungry eyes; moreover, his eagerness to devour you was crystal clear, not daring to hide his fervent desire of having another taste of your sweet body. Watching you like a predator would to its prey.

His hands were tingling with excitement, for the future adventure both of you would go through, in a matter of minutes. Tonight, like many others, was dedicated solely to you, to your enjoyment; for you to, once again, discover a part of yourself that has yet to see the morning sun and yet to taste the deliciousness of the unknown. A new experience, a new journey, a brand new feeling for you to replay over and over again in your head, during those painfully lonely nights, when you could only find calmness in the feather-like touch of your fingers, running through your needy and greedy body.

Jungkook, however, knew exactly what he was doing by making you wait until your breaking point, waiting for a whine to fall from your precious lips, or for your desperate hand to reach out to him, whatever happens first, but in a silent plea for even a sliver of his attention. He had memorized every gesture, every reaction, every movement you would do, and it entertained the man more than it should.

“You’re tense.” Jungkook pointed out, easing the knots in your shoulders with his skillful hands. “What’s gotten you this aggravated, princess?”

It was the mocking tone, the graceful touch, or even his inviting eyes; whatever it was, it served as a decisive factor to push yourself forward and wrap your arms around his empty neck, like a snake would with its prey; hard and firm.

Desperate hands were first, then.

“You.” An answer was uttered, yet there was a lack of reaction from the man in front of you.

“Could’ve fooled me.” Jungkook taunted, acknowledging the power he had over you. “But don’t think I have forgotten the order I gave you.”

It left you confused for a good second, before his strong hands reached out for yours, stripping himself off from your needy touch.

“Stay still.” Jeon ordered once again, smirking once you obeyed.

You knew better than to challenge him, knowing that your safest option was to follow his instructions with no objection, if you wanted to get your awaited reward, that is.

Who would have thought that you’d be so accustomed to this routine. If asked, then give. If given, then be grateful for it.

The older man has improved your sex life in a matter of a few months, introducing your inexperienced self to the wonders of healthy and eccentric intercourse. Jungkook has proven to you many times in the span of a few months that your negative expectations of sex were granted by your poorly skilled sexual partners. Never once experiencing a dull moment since you were left in the dangerous hands of Jeon Jungkook.

If asked, then give. If given, be grateful.

Just like a believer would with whatever God sets in their path. Just like a kid would when a gift was left under the Christmas tree. You were grateful. It was easy to be. For it was gratefulness that had been installed within you from the moment yours and Jungkook’s paths have crossed.

Nonetheless, as grateful as you were, the hesitation in the back of your head didn’t seem to want to leave. The more Jungkook gave you, the more you wondered if you deserved it. But it reasoned with you that the true cause for your indecisiveness was the premise under which your relationship with the tattooed man had developed.

They don’t make men like him anymore, it’s what your friend had told you when she first introduced you to him, and it scared you. It frightened you that your only option to survive in such a cruel world was to cling to a man that was yet to explain what his line of work was. But then again, you didn’t want to know.

If Jungkook came back from work, looking unkempt and exhausted it was none of your business. That blood stain has always been on his shirt for all you knew. His sketchy friends have never once disrespected you, and that was enough for the time being. If he has broken the law, you don't need to know.

You would never know.

If asked, then give. If given, be grateful. If grateful, show it.

That’s a matter in which you could actually participate. In fact, it’s the way you were taught to be for the past few months.

You earn what you’re given, so show manners and be thankful.

Don’t question, just take. A mindset that has gotten you to where you were right now. In the bedroom of, by far, the most dangerous man in all Korea. Yet, not once has your well-being been threatened, and for that you're grateful.

And you're about to show it.

“You deserve it.” Jungkook reminded you before straying away to roam through his drawers.

The anticipation was killing you. Your eager eyes couldn’t see past his bare and muscular back facing you. Jeon thrived on the way your lustful gaze would always settle on his body, hence the lack of a shirt. Only a low waisted pair of jeans, that allowed you to see the hem of his Calvin Klein underwear, were preventing you from seeing his firm thighs.

You enjoyed the view, more than you probably should. How his muscles flexed when he moved, and the way his toned back shone under the dim light of the room.

It was such a delectable sight for your painfully sore eyes.

“You ready?” The question snapped you out of your thoughts, making you notice how close he was now.

“Yes.” You answered with light hesitation.

Your major enemy showing up once again: indecisiveness. But that wouldn’t stop you from giving yourself to the man in front of you. Not this time.

“Yes, what?” Jeon insisted. “Don’t forget your manners.”

“Yes, sir, I’m ready.” It fell naturally from your lips.

A satisfied smirk appeared on his face.

“Good girl.”

The dark haired man reached out for your wrists, placing a delicate kiss on both of them before tying them with a silky tie of his, and forcing your wandering hands to stay still once and for all.

“Do you trust me?” Jungkook gently asked.

“No, sir, I don’t.”

It was the only correct answer, and both you and Jungkook knew it.

The moment he earned your trust would be the moment he’d have to leave you behind, to fend for yourself and for you to learn how to navigate through the dark corners of your unlucky life.

Trusting him means leaving your guard down, leaving your guard down means being vulnerable, and Jungkook knew better than to be vulnerable, especially in the type of life he lived in. He didn’t want you to make that mistake, and if it meant giving you reasons to doubt him, then so be it.

“Are you gonna do as I say?” Jeon inquired.

“I will.”

“Good.” He leaned down to steal a harsh kiss from you. “You have no idea how bad I’m going to ruin you tonight.”

A slight shiver ran down your spine, knowing too well that his words were far from being an empty promise.

His tattooed hands descended on your bare body, ever so delicate, ever so tender. A stark contrast to what his real intentions were, and it left you craving more of it. Your insatiable desire for being thoroughly worshiped by his lips, his hands, all of him. It was never enough, and it will never be.

Like a stray dog in need of being fed, you needed his touch to be satisfied. Luckily for you, Jungkook was always a man to deliver everything you asked for, even if not verbally.

His eyes, never swerving from your body, took in all the reactions you gave him; from the way your lips formed a perfect o-shape, freeing the most delicious sounds, to how your back arched oh so naturally when his already trained fingers made their way towards the south part of your body. The place where he would get baptized every night, like a strong believer. Ending his thirst with the holy liquid you would suffice him with, not once asking for anything in return, but thankful of his merciful goddess showing appreciation for his dedication.

The only thing is, you weren’t a goddess and he wasn’t a believer. And the whole scenario was way more dirty in reality than what you’d often fantasize.

“Such a pretty doll.” Jungkook brought you back into reality with his husky voice, “Always so responsive.”

His middle finger traveled down to reach your entrance, teasing you with his light touch. Waiting for your reaction, waiting for you to beg. But just like he knew you so well, it was easy for you to tell when he wanted something from you. So rather than give Jungkook what he wanted, you settled for playing a game that would get you in a situation where not even God would help you.

You moved your hips ever so lightly, testing how far you could go without the tattooed man reminding you who’s in charge. Chasing his touch was easy, attaining it was a whole different story. And it was proven to you that tonight the ball was not in your court, when all you got was a chuckle from the man, while he retrieved his hand and leaned down to be face to face with you.

“Have you not learned anything yet, princess?” His dark voice made you tremble in your spot. “Or have you forgotten how things work around here, hm?”

Unwilling to answer, the only response he got from you was a strained whine, yet Jeon could see the desperation in your eyes, the fervent desire to be ruined by him, to be left defenseless and at his complete mercy. Your body wasn’t yours anymore; it stopped being yours the moment he set his eyes on you.

Jeon Jungkook owned you, that much was obvious. And as terrifying as it was, the fact was equally thrilling.

“How badly do you want me?” He tried again, with a question that drove you crazy. “Be good for me and say the words, princess.”

Wasn’t it evident? People often thought that you were too harsh to deal with, too rude, too much to handle. It didn’t offend you, nor did it crack your heart whenever someone would complain about your hot temper and crude attitude. However, at this precise moment, you were giving the man in front of you exactly what he was asking for, albeit not verbally, but your body was working on its own accord. For every light touch, Jeon would get a shiver, squirming, even a plea from your eyes. Any reaction that was in the books, you were already serving it for him.

Nonetheless, it seemed like you weren’t compliant enough for the older man.

“So bad.” You opted to respond instead, finally giving in. “I need you, I want you. Please, sir.”

It was like music to his ears. Your delightful voice, flying through the room as if it were the sweetest melody. Not even the singing of an angel would achieve the reaction that you were pulling from Jungkook right now. Just listening to you beg for him, that’s all Jeon ever wanted.

“You are being so good and polite, baby.” He praised you. “I’ll give you what you need, but…” The dark haired man drifted off, pulling out a blindfold from the back of his jeans. “I’m afraid we’ll do it my way.”

Terrifying, as looking into the depths of a deserted forest, but it was sinful enough for you to crave it. It was exciting regardless of what the whole ordeal entailed. Therefore, when the tall man approached you, with a silky blindfold resting on his hands, you were ready to follow his orders with no objections.

In a matter of seconds you were deprived of Junkook’s hard features, leaving you with a view of pure darkness, and causing your body to start squirming and moving around due to the anticipation. It was difficult to find calmness in such a stressful moment, but you managed. However, Jeon decided to start toying with you, taking advantage of the fact that you were unaware of your surroundings. And so his fingers commenced a trip down the tender flesh of your neck, rapidly traveling down your collarbones and lightly gracing your nipples, only for later on to pinch both of your buds in a harsh manner, one that ripped a strained gasp out of your mouth.

A sardonic smile took place on his face, however, you couldn’t see it. His free hand traveled up to push your cheeks together, enjoying how plump your lips looked and not being able to resist the urge to bite them.

Your breath hitched in your throat when you felt his teeth sinking in the flesh of your lips, along with the way his fingers were kneading every inch of your body.

“Relax and stay still.” Jeon ordered. “I know you’ll love this.”

His soothing voice was helping you to calm down, but it wasn’t enough. The sensations that were running through your body and the lack of proper touch left you in an unbearable agony. You craved to feel him closer, for his skin touching yours, for his breath mixing with yours while your bodies were intertwined in a passionate race to free both of your souls. What he was giving you wasn’t enough, but then again, when has it been?

A greedy little thing, that’s what Jungkook has always called you. And rightfully so, because you longed for him in ways no one else had done, and it scared him. Jeon was afraid you might be too attached to him, moreover, to your own idea of him. The way you would reach for his hand, almost as second nature, when you were out and about, or how your eyes always gravitated towards his figure whenever he stepped into a room. That terrified him. Because it meant you were addicted to him in the same way he was to you, and that could only mean trouble in the long run.

Tonight, however, was not about his fears and insecurities. Tonight was meant to be for you; to supply you with the utmost pleasure you were able to handle, and even if you couldn’t, Jungkook was willing to give you more than what you asked for. So rather than letting his mind wander to places he wasn’t fond of, the man decided to grant you what you were desperately looking for.

His slender fingers slid into your warm hole, filling you up as best as possible. Moving in ways that would haunt you forever, as a reminder that no one —not even yourself, will be able to touch you and treat you like he could.

“There you go…” He muttered, so close to your ear that made you shiver. “Is that enough for my little slut?”

His husky voice echoed through every corner of the room, pulling a light gasp out of you. It wasn’t strange for you to hear him say such lewd things or call you such unspeakable names, but every single time he did, it awakened a wild sensation within you.

Answering to his question you shook your head no, adamant to get more of him, and desperately wanting to be filled to the brim with something more than his fingers.

“More…” You begged. “Please, more.”

His fingers were avidly moving, pumping in and out of your velvety walls at a steady pace. His touch seemed to be enhanced and it felt much more than any other time. Whether it was because you couldn’t see nor could you touch anything, or because of his skillful movements, you couldn’t tell. Nevertheless, there was no complaint. It felt terribly good.

“Yes, please don’t stop.”

Your whiny voice was making Jungkook experience unspeakable things. He was eager to have you, eager to touch you, eager to have a taste of you. But more importantly, so desperate to fuck you. In the same way he awakened a wild side of you with his dark stare, you drove him absolutely crazy with the little noises you made. Furthermore, having you underneath him, moaning his name while squirming in pleasure, and feeling pure bliss due to how good he made you feel, was boosting his ego.

Jeon Jungkook was a man that always strived to be praised, even for the little and insignificant things. So to say he was thrilled and satisfied by the way you were chanting his name like a sinful prayer, along with how your body was responding insanely good to his touch, would be an enormous understatement.

He was on the verge of losing control and claiming you in such an animalistic way, that would leave anyone who happened to be near his room, concerned for your well-being.

“Have I ever told you how beautiful you look like this?” It was a question that didn’t need an answer.

Jungkook was entranced by the way you were reacting to his touch, watching your skin coated in goosebumps and how your legs would try to wrap around his waist to pull him closer, in need of him. It has always amazed him how innocent and clueless you looked and acted on the daily, yet somehow you knew what to do to make him act up, to drive him crazy. It was as if you were just pretending to know nothing just to tease him, just to make him never leave you, but deep down Jungkook knew you were sincere.

Your life has been tough, to say the least, and he knew you were in need of guidance, in need of someone to hold your hand and walk you through the crude stages of life. Jeon has never told you, but part of the reason why he took interest in you was due to his protective instinct. The older man knew you needed protection, from who or what? It wasn’t clear, but he instantly knew he was the right one to do it.

Oddly enough, there was no one better than the most dangerous man in South Korea to keep you safe.

But the way you would act so innocently drove him crazy.

Even when you tried to act confident, there was this sprinkle of hesitation every time you did something —indecisiveness striking again. And it was difficult to ignore it, moreover, it was difficult to hide it. The man could see right through your weak act, and spot your nervousness from miles away.

Even when you sucked him off in his office after a tiring meeting, he knew you were slightly scared to do such a thing.

Someone pretending to be clueless wouldn’t act as eager and clumsy as you did back then, although there has been some improvement since that time. Your teeth wouldn’t make an appearance anymore, you would use the right amount of saliva to make it messy but still look appealing for Jeon. The man loved how now you use more of your tongue to tease his tip and how far he could go into your throat. But none of that would’ve been attained without his help.

If given, be grateful. If grateful, show it.

It all goes back to the same predicament: you often showing your thankfulness for every little thing Jungkook has done for you.

He saved you, in the same way that a human would take an injured bird into their home to help it heal. Only for the person to cage it after the bird it’s back on its feet. Whereas Jeon Jungkook saved you from your previous way of living, he also owned you, preventing you from leaving his side.

Your broken moan snapped the dark haired man back into reality. His eyes were glazed with lust, looking right down on you and your tempting body.

“Are you close yet, doll?”

He knew you were. Jungkook could feel you clenching on his fingers, but he wanted to hear it from you.

“Yes, I’m so close.” You whined.

Your hands were moving so much, trying to break free from the tie that was preventing you from touching him. Jeon silently enjoyed it, he enjoyed how addicted to him you were, that it was a torture for you to not touch him in any way. You were so accustomed to feeling him, every single inch, that being restrained felt like pure hell.

“Please… More, faster…” You once again begged, and this time Jungkook couldn’t handle it.

Ignoring your protests, he pulled his fingers out, rapidly stripping off the rest of his clothes to position himself in between your legs. Because yes, he was on the verge of losing control before, but now his racional side flew out the window, and so he couldn’t wait a second longer to be wrapped in the warmth of your walls, ready to take him in.

“My sweet girl, don’t be impatient.” Jungkook cooed at you. “I’ll give you something better.”

Without further ado, he thrusted into you with a hard pump. It ripped a moan out of you, making you tug at the tie even more. You were beyond annoyed that you couldn’t touch him nor could you see his beautiful figure while he fucked you, although it enhanced the rest of your senses.

You could hear his little noises more clearly, feel his touch even better than you usually would, and taste him so much more in every kiss he gave you. It was truly a blessing and a curse.

“You’re so tight, Y/n.” Jungkook gritted through his teeth, preventing himself from moving manically just yet.

Jeon could see the struggle in your face, the way you were clenching on his dick so hard that it was almost impossible for him to move. No matter how many times he’s fucked you, you would never get accustomed to his size. But in reality, the actual problem was that the man hasn’t done exactly that in a while.

Truth be told, there was a reason for your eagerness, for your desperation. For your ambition to have more of him. Jungkook has been neglecting you the past couple of days, perhaps not on purpose, but his line of work has required him to travel to the other side of the world for a whole week. And now that he was back you were ready to trap him in your limbs for as long as you could have him.

“I haven’t fucked you in a while that your pussy is already forgetting how my cock feels, huh?” He acknowledged the situation. “Maybe I’ll have to remind this tight cunt who owns it.”

Without a warning, he gave a hard thrust once again, bottoming out. You wanted to tell him that you didn’t forget how big his dick was or how good it felt. Many nights you fantasized about his fat cock pounding into you while the only thing you could use to pleasure yourself was your fingers. It was such a sad comparison, especially because it proved that what he once told you was completely true.

No one will be ever able to satisfy your carnal needs in the same way that he does. No one will be able to make you come undone with their touch. You could only daydream about Jungkook rocking into you hard and rough, during those lonely nights when the only thing you could use was your small fingers.

Luckily for you, now you have it, the real thing. Now you could feel the tip of his cock hitting every right spot the more the thrusted into you. His veiny member slamming over and over into your throbbing cunt, crying for more of him.

“So fucking greedy. My dirty slut can never get enough of me, huh?” Jungkook groaned, “Look at you, already a mess and I’ve barely done anything, sweetheart.”

It was such a true statement. Even if there was no way for you to look at yourself, you were sure of your disheveled appearance. Sweat was coating your skin, making your messy hair stick to your forehead and nape, your lips were now swollen and shiny due to the wet kisses Jeon has shared with you.

But it has always been like this. Jeon always knew what to do, what to say, how to touch you to turn you into a babbling and whiny mess, one who could only chant his name and ask for more, like the little ambitious and greedy girl you were. Regardless of the way you would sometimes demand more of his attention, more of his touch, he loved it. The tattooed man loved how ruined you looked at the end of your rendezvous, staring at your tear stained cheeks and swollen lips. Jungkook was always fascinated by how fucked out you were once he was done with everything, it was his favorite look on you.

“You like this, don’t you? Being used like a fuck toy, not being able to do anything to fight me.” The older man let out a dark chuckle, while one of his hands crept up to wrap itself around your throat. “So defenseless and needy, letting me do anything to you.”

The more he talked the closer you got. You knew it was a matter of time for you to cum. And you couldn’t be more thankful for that.

Jungkook kept rocking into you at a rapid and harsh pace, fucking your brains out while calling you names that he knew would pull a reaction out of you.

“My dumb baby, taking me so well.” He praised you. “You always know how to take my cock, willing to let me fuck this pretty pussy however I want.”

You could only nod, gasping for air and moving your hips to meet his thrusts as best as possible. It was like a race to see which one would finish first, although it was clear that the man ramming into you would not relent until you were crying and shaking underneath him.

“Fuck, you drive me crazy.” He confessed, leaning down to kiss your soft lips.

His free hand traveled down in between your legs to place his skilled thumb over your clit. His movements were like a bucket of cold water poured over your burning skin. It calmed the building fire in between your legs, just as much as it fueled your already approaching orgasm.

“You feel so amazing around my dick.” Jeon hissed over your lips, hypnotized by the way his aching cock would get lost into your soaked cunt.

“Oh god…” You moaned. “Please don’t stop, I’m so fucking close.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” A promise, far from being empty.

It was clear that Jeon was getting close as well by the way he so desperately was pounding into you, moaning lowly and leaning down to bite your neck.

His lips and teeth were doing wonders on your skin, marking you up with his bites and sucking on your flesh as well. Jungkook was devouring you, tasting you, ruining you as he promised.

“Holy shit…” He said in a raspy voice. “You’re all mine, aren’t you? Only I can make you feel like this.”

“Yes, yes, yes…” You chanted back, but it wasn’t enough for him.

“Come on, tell me, pretty girl.” He requested. “Tell me you’re mine.”

“I’m yours. I’m all yours.” You slurred your words out.

It only encouraged the man to fuck you harder, meaner, faster… Exactly how you liked it. Jungkook was aware of it, he knew you like the palm of his hand, and although it was concerning how much he knew about you, it also came in handy in moments like this.

“Shit, I’m gonna cum.” Jungkook alerted you, snapping both of you from your wandering thoughts.

“Cum, inside me.” You croaked out, biting on your bottom lip.

It was a risky request, something that you might regret in the future, not only because you weren’t on any contraception, but it entailed being connected to him in such an intimate way, one that neither of you were ready for.

“Are you sure?” He asked with a soft tone, yet you could hear the agitation in his voice. “Are you okay with… oh fuck, with me cumming in you?”

“Yes, yes, please. Just do it, fill me up, please.” You struggled to say. “I need to feel your cum deep inside me.”

Jungkook felt like dying with the lewd words you were spewing.

You were drunk on the ecstasy of the whole experience. Not being able to look at your surroundings, being restrained, the way Jeon was pistoning into you, hitting spots that no one has ever been able to reach before; the sinful words spilling from his lips, his hand still wrapped around your neck, albeit more loosely now. Everything was clouding your mind and leaving you in such a lax state, that prevented you from forming any coherent thought.

Regardless, your consensual words were all he needed to let go, shooting his hot cum inside of your greedy pussy.

“Oh god…” Jungkook moaned, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

His orgasm triggered yours, throwing you over the edge in a matter of seconds, right after he came. Your whimpers were loud and high pitched, your body was burning and trembling, and you were sure the light makeup you were previously wearing was smudged by now.

You were panting, trying your best to calm your agitated breathing. Jungkook was still inside of you, with his face hidden in your neck, breathing as heavily as you were. Both still intertwined in a mess of sweaty limbs.

After a few minutes where both of you recovered from the intense orgasms you just had, Jeon finally pulled out, separating himself from you. His hands flew up to free yours, making you whine softly; he placed a soft kiss on both of your wrists, making sure the tie didn’t hurt you. The blindfold came off next, and it took a few seconds for your eyes to get used to the dim light after seeing pure darkness.

“How was it?”

A simple question, one that, in the ears of an oblivious listener, would mean nothing. An inquiry that held more significance and concern than a simple are you okay?; it was subtle but it spoke volumes the way Jeon Jungkook would still feel the need to protect you, even from himself.

He never voiced his worries properly, trying to play it cool but secretly concerned that he might have hurt you in any way. The man never learnt how to correctly communicate with others, but he would be damned if he didn’t express how much he cared for you in other ways.

“Amazing…” Was your response, albeit in a hoarse voice.

Your throat was slightly aggravated, feeling terribly dry after attempting to voice the pleasure and enjoyment from the experience, through the small space there was left from Jungkook’s hard grip on it. However, it didn’t stop you from answering his concerns.

Amazing, fascinating.

It was the only way to describe it, your mind was too foggy to think of a proper answer, but by the way he was smirking you could tell he was satisfied with your response.

“Good.” He nodded. “Don’t move, I’ll bring a towel to clean you up and a bottle of water.”

Before he could step out of the room your weak voice stopped him in his tracks.

“Wait…” You called for him.

If asked, then give; if given, be grateful. If grateful, show it.

“Thank you.” A small whisper was all it took for the man to walk back at you, leaning down to place a tender kiss on your forehead.

“Get some rest, I’ll be right back.”

You were left alone in the big room, spread out on the mattress while your mind was trying to comprehend all the events that just happened. Your heart was filled with questions, but you knew better than to ponder over those inquiries.

Jeon Jungkook was a man like no other, one that cared for you more than he should, and for that you will be forever grateful.

[maretinelli]

CRYING FOR EVERYTHING

Lando Norris X fem!reader

Summary: When Y/n is the most soft and crybaby person and this makes Lando laugh, but ends up comforting her when she cries over silly things.

Words: 4.1K+

Warnings: Nothing (??) Just cute and romantic.

Author: English is not my first language, so apologies for any spelling, grammar and slang mistakes that may be in the story. This can be funny but also sad because she cries over everything hahaha

MASTERLIST

Lando turned the key in the lock and pushed open the door to the apartment he shared with Y/n. A sweet, slightly buttery scent hung in the air, but he didn't comment on it right away.

He just smiled as he felt the warmth of home and called out in a light, excited voice: "Honey, I'm home!"

No response.

He frowned slightly and walked into the kitchen, where he found Y/n standing at the counter, staring at a cake. So absorbed in her thoughts that she didn't even notice his presence until she felt Lando's arms close around her waist, his chest warm against her back.

"What's going on here?" He asked quietly, peering over her shoulder at the cake, which looked perfectly baked.

Y/n blinked a few times, her eyes brimming with tears. "I asked for the recipe for the cake my grandmother made..." Her choked voice revealed how much it meant to her. "And I tried to recreate it, but it didn't work."

Lando stepped back a little, positioning himself next to her. He looked intently at the cake before turning his gentle eyes to his girlfriend.

"But he looks great."

She took a deep breath, fighting back tears, but when she pointed to the cut piece, she murmured, "It didn't turn out like Grandma's... And it even sank when it came out of the oven..."

The first tear fell silently.

Lando smiled slightly and took a slice of the cake, tasting it without hesitation. He chewed slowly, enjoying the taste, and then looked at her with a sincere smile.

"It's delicious."

But Y/n just quivered her pout before starting to cry again. "But it's not like Grandma's..." She sniffed, sobbing softly. "I wish you could have the experience of tasting her cake, but she died a long time ago and I don't know how to recreate the family recipes!"

Lando felt his chest tighten.

Without thinking twice, he dropped the slice of cake on the counter and pulled her into a tight hug, wrapping her completely, feeling her small sobs against his chest as she hid her face in her hands.

He stroked her hair lovingly and whispered, in a tender voice: "I know I can't taste your grandmother's cake, but I have something much better..."

Y/n moved slightly, looking at him with moist eyes. "What?"

Lando smiled, gently wiping away a tear with his thumb.

"The amazing experience of tasting all the wonderful cakes you make."

She sniffed, giving a weak smile through her tears, and Lando took the opportunity to hold her even tighter against him.

"And I will taste them all, every time."

Y/n chuckled softly, burying her face in the crook of his neck as Lando continued to cradle her in his cozy embrace.

•••••••••••••••••••••

The light rain beat against the apartment window, a comforting sound that filled the room amidst the soft dim light of the lamp. It was a quiet night, perfect for cozy moments.

Lando and Y/n had spent the day together, enjoying his day off and her vacation. In the late afternoon, they decided to ride their bikes around the city, returning just before the rain started. By now, Y/n had already showered and was comfortable on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, while Lando was still in the shower.

Before leaving, he had told her to start watching the series they were watching together for the third time.

Time passed, and Lando appeared in the living room, drying his messy hair with a towel. He was wearing only sweatpants, leaving his chest exposed to the night's cold.

"Honey, I hope you didn't watch too much without me, or else-"

He stopped mid-sentence when he noticed Y/n crying softly, wrapped in layers of blankets. The box of tissues rested on her lap, and her eyes were red and watery as she stared at the TV with a devastated expression.

Lando smiled, holding back a laugh. But then he put the towel he was using to dry his hair aside and approached his girlfriend.

"Crying over O'Malley's death again?" He said, gently pulling the blanket from her hair and leaning down to place a kiss on her forehead.

Y/n looked up at him, sobbing. "He... he, he..." She tried to speak, but her voice failed.

Lando crouched down beside her on the couch and wiped away the tears that were streaming down her cheeks.

"Breathe, love" Lando said softly, patiently waiting for the outburst he knew was coming.

Y/n sniffed, pulling out a tissue and wiping her nose before continuing, "He was treated like a nobody, and when he was dying, he managed to say he was 007. He... he died to save someone else, Lan..." Her voice wavered, and she looked at him, her eyes bright with emotion. "He died."

Lando bit his lip to contain his laughter.

"Honey... you knew this was going to happen. This is the third time we've seen it."

"But it doesn't make it any less sad!" Y/n retorted, crying softly.

Lando sighed fondly and pulled her into a tight hug. She buried her face in his bare shoulder, sobbing softly as he stroked her sweatshirt-covered back.

"I know, love. But it's just a series. He's fine in real life, filming another movie or something." He murmured against her hair.

Y/n sniffed again, lifting her face and looking at him. "You're cold. So cold." She said with a small sob, looking at his bare chest.

Lando chuckled at the observation and let her pull the blanket away, making room for him. He settled in beside her, pulling her down onto his chest as he slowly ran his fingers through the soft strands of her hair.

"There, now I'm warmed up" Lando joked.

Y/n sighed against him, relaxing a little.

Without saying anything, Lando grabbed the remote and skipped the episode, putting on the next one to avoid more tears.

"Hey!" Y/n protested softly.

"Pretty girls don't cry," he murmured, kissing the top of her head.

And, between one caress and another, Lando smiled as he realized that, little by little, Y/n's breathing was returning to normal, and the sadness of the episode already seemed a little more distant.

••••••••••••••••••••••••

Lando spent the afternoon organizing the apartment. It was rare to have a day off with Y/n, and he wanted to make the most of it. He cleaned every corner, straightened the couch cushions, washed the dishes, and even wiped the floor with a scented cloth. He wanted her to be able to just throw themselves on the couch and cuddle for the rest of the night when she got home from work.

It wasn't long before Y/n arrived, so he lit some scented candles, the same ones she loved and had been buying since before they started dating. The soft aroma filled the room, and he smiled contentedly as he saved the rest to use in the next few days.

As soon as he heard the key in the door, Lando came down the stairs excitedly, ready to surprise her.

"Honey, I cleaned the whole apartment!" He announced proudly, turning to her.

The smile disappeared as soon as he saw her face. Y/n was slowly taking off her shoes, her shoulders slumped, her expression dejected. She left her bag on the table, and Lando knew immediately that something was wrong.

If he knew his girlfriend well, he knew that if he spoke first, she would break down without being able to tell him what had happened. So he waited.

Y/n looked up at him, her eyes watery and her lips trembling before she murmured,

“When I was driving here, I saw two kitten brothers abandoned on the street…” Her voice broke, and a few tears escaped. “I thought about taking them in, but our building doesn’t allow pets, and my parents aren’t home to drop them off…” Her breath hitched, and she nervously picked at her nail polish. “I had to leave them there and just walk by…”

Lando felt lighter. For a second, he feared it was something work-related. But still, seeing Y/n so shaken broke his heart.

"Oh, love, come here" He said, opening his arms.

Y/n threw herself against him, wrapping her arms around his waist and crying softly into his shoulder. Lando wrapped her in a tight hug, running his hands comfortingly down her back.

"How could someone do this?" She sobbed. "To abandon two helpless puppies to die in the street..."

Lando sighed, hearing the pain in her voice. "I don't know, love. But we can do something." Y/n pulled her face away to look at him, and he took the opportunity to wipe the tears that were running down her cheeks. "We can go there and get them!" He suggested.

She shook her head, sniffling. "Lan... I've thought about that. But our building doesn't allow pets, and my parents don't get back from their trip until next week..."

Lando smiled slightly, shaking his head. "No, no, love. You know we're visiting my parents this weekend, right? We can take the kittens there."

Y/n frowned, not understanding. "What do you mean?"

Lando gently ran his thumbs over her cheeks, wiping away the last traces of tears, and smiled. "We can take them there. Flo will love taking care of them, and they'll have a home." Y/n's eyes filled with emotion again. "They only need to spend two days here, the building manager won't even notice. We can buy a carrier. The plane is animal-friendly, and they'll be well taken care of."

Y/n hesitated for a second, hope rising in her chest. "Do you think this is a good idea?"

"Sure. Let's do it."

The tears flowed again, but now they were of relief.

"Oh, okay. Tears again." Lando laughed, pretending to be dramatic.

Y/n lightly slapped his chest, sniffling. "I'm happy now, idiot."

Lando laughed and grabbed Y/n's hand, grabbing the car and apartment keys. "Then let's go, before they run away."

Y/n smiled and hurriedly put on her sneakers. Within minutes, the two of them left the apartment, ready to give their two little kittens a happy ending.

••••••••••••••••••••••

Y/n stopped by her parents' house after work just to say hi, but ended up staying a little longer than planned. They were doing a big cleaning and, among boxes and boxes of souvenirs, they separated some things for her to take to the apartment she shared with Lando.

"This is something nice for you to share with Lando" Her mother said, handing over a large box.

Curious, Y/n took the box without asking much. She didn't know exactly what was in there, but she decided it would be more fun to open it with Lando.

When she got home, she was excited, balancing the box with her computer bag, trying to unlock the door without knocking anything over.

Lando appeared quickly, taking the box from her hands before any disaster could happen.

"Wow, what's this?" He asked, placing a soft kiss on her lips.

"I have no idea," Y/n laughed, setting her bag on the table. "I stopped by my parents' house after work and they were cleaning out the attic. They gave me this box and said it was something cool to share with you."

Lando arched his eyebrow curiously. "Okay, now I'm interested too."

He followed Y/n into the living room, where she sat down on the rug and pulled the box closer. Carefully, she opened the lid and was greeted by a burst of memories.

Inside were several objects from her childhood: old dolls, her favorite shoe as a child, drawings scribbled with crayons and even a small notebook that looked like a diary.

"Oh my God!" Y/n exclaimed, picking up one of the dolls. "I played with this doll every day!"

Lando sat beside her, watching with a smile as she rummaged through the box, each new object bringing back a new memory.

"That shoe..." She picked up the little shoe in her hands, laughing. "I wore it for everything! My mother said I refused to take it off."

"Sounds like something you would do," Lando teased, making her roll her eyes.

She picked up a drawing and laughed.

“Okay, this is a little embarrassing.” She turned the paper toward him. It was a scribbled drawing, clearly made by a child. “I used to say I was going to be an artist, but looking back on it now, I think I was right to choose another profession.”

"I don't know..." Lando picked up the drawing, pretending to study it seriously. "I see great potential here."

Y/n lightly slapped his arm, laughing. But soon the laughter turned into something else.

Every new object I picked up brought a tightness to my chest. She thought her parents had gotten rid of those things years ago. Seeing everything there, intact, as if your childhood was preserved inside that box, was so moving.

Tears began to well up before she could stop them.

Lando noticed immediately and frowned, gently touching her arm.

"Hey... what's up?"

Y/n sniffed and smiled, even as tears fell. "I'm just... I'm happy." She ran a hand over her eyes. "I thought my parents had thrown all this away years ago... but they kept it."

Lando chuckled softly and pulled her into a side hug. "Are you crying because you're happy?"

"Yes!" She laughed between sobs, leaning her head on his shoulder.

He thought it was adorable. He wanted to laugh, because it was cute to see her so emotional, but he held back.

Y/n took the small journal from the box and ran her fingers over the worn cover. "This..." She sniffed. "I wrote about everything. My childhood crushes, my dreams..."

Lando took the diary from her hands and opened it to a random page.

"Today I saw a little dog on the street and I really wanted to take him home, but Mommy said I couldn't." He read it out loud and laughed. "Well, some things never change, do they?"

Y/n laughed, slapping his arm again. "You're insufferable."

"I'm a great boyfriend, actually."

She picked another drawing out of the box and laughed when she saw what it was. "Okay, you'll like this one."

Lando took the paper and widened his eyes when he saw a car scribbled on it. "Don't tell me..."

"Yes. That was my "dream race car" when I was five years old."

He looked at the drawing and then at her. "Can I say something?"

"What?"

"You definitely did well to choose another profession."

Y/n let out a laugh and threw herself at him, making Lando fall backwards onto the carpet with her on top. He laughed and held her tight, looking at her face still wet with tears, but now lit up with a smile.

"I love you" He said, running his thumb across her cheek.

"I love you too."

They stood there, surrounded by the memories of her childhood, while Lando knew that, from that moment on, he was also part of the best memories of Y/n's life.

The Silverstone race has always been special for Lando. Racing at home, with the British fans behind him, was indescribable. But that Sunday was even more magical. He didn't just race, he won.

With an impeccable strategy and aggressive driving, Lando held the lead in the final laps, crossing the finish line first. McLaren erupted in celebration. The fans chanted his name, the car radio filled with the team's cheers and the excitement took over.

In the garage, Y/n watched the moment alongside Cisca and Adam, Lando's parents. They treated her like a daughter, and nothing seemed more right than being there, celebrating with them.

"He did it!" Adam exclaimed, clapping his hands proudly.

"Our boy!" Cisca smiled, her eyes shining.

Y/n laughed, feeling her heart beat faster. She always knew Lando was capable of this. Since the first years in karting, since the difficult days, the doubts, the criticisms, she always believed.

Then the podium ceremony began. As Lando stepped onto the top step and raised the trophy to the British sky, something inside Yin broke. She began to cry softly, overcome with overwhelming pride.

Cisca, who already knew her daughter-in-law well, smiled and pulled her into a side hug. "He deserves it, doesn't he?" The mother-in-law said affectionately.

Y/n nodded through tears. "Very!!"

Without hesitation, she turned around and hugged Cisca tightly, crying on her mother-in-law's shoulder.

"Oh, honey" Cisca murmured, stroking Y/n's back. "He's so lucky to have you."

When Lando returned to the garage, still covered in champagne and with a giant smile on his face, Y/n was still crying.

Adam approached his son and murmured softly, somewhat worried. "She's been like this ever since you stepped onto the podium... And your mother hasn't been able to calm her down."

Lando chuckled, nodding in agreement.

He walked towards them, seeing Cisca still hugging Y/n, who was sobbing discreetly. Her mother also had tears in her eyes, but she tried to stay strong.

Cisca smiled when she saw her son and reached out her free hand to hug him. "I'm so proud of you, my dear" She said, squeezing him.

Lando returned the hug, closing his eyes for a moment. "Thank you for everything, Mom."

Cisca then looked at Y/n lying on her shoulder and made a comment to Lando. "I knew she was going to cry, but I thought she would stop before you arrived."

Lando laughed, approaching his girlfriend's side. "Love..." He ran his fingers through her hair, making Y/n look up with red, teary eyes.

She smiled at him, still crying. "You won at home, Lan..." She said, emotionally. "I always knew you were capable. All your effort paid off. I saw this potential in you from the beginning. I'm so proud of the man you've become, and I can say that because I've been with you for years. Years of being happy by your side and celebrating every victory."

Y/n's words hit Lando in a way he didn't expect. Suddenly, he felt his eyes burn as well.

"Thank you, love" He said, his voice breaking. "Thank you for always being here... I'm also proud of this strong, incredible woman you've become." He pulled her into a tight hug, and now they were both crying together.

Adam, who was watching the scene, widened his eyes. "Ah, there. Now we have two crybabies."

Cisca laughed, wiping away her own tears. "At least they cry with happiness."

Lando and Y/n pulled away a little, laughing through their tears. But when they looked at Cisca and Adam, they realized that Y/n's in-laws were watching them fondly.

"Those two are still going to get married," Adam commented quietly, crossing his arms. But the couple listened.

Cisca looked at her husband and nodded. "Yes, they will. Their love is true. Everyone can see that."

Lando looked at Y/n, who smiled at him. He didn't say anything, but at that moment,

They both knew: One day, this would really happen.

•••••••••••••••••••••••

The apartment was silent, except for the sound of the TV playing some series. Lando was snuggled up on the couch, with Y/n lying on his lap. Her legs were propped up on the back of the couch, while her boyfriend stroked her hair absentmindedly. It was a quiet night, just the way they liked it.

Y/n was on her phone, swiping her fingers aimlessly across the screen, until she found a folder of photos that she kept dearly. A folder full of photos of the two of them since the beginning of their relationship, when they were still 18 years old.

She began to scroll through the images slowly, looking at the younger versions of them. Some were silly selfies, others moments captured by friends. One in particular made her smile—Lando trying to make a face as she kissed his cheek.

Her smile quickly gave way to a tightness in her chest. Tears began to well up in her eyes as memories flooded back. Each photo told a story, a phase of their relationship, and the weight of their years together hit her hard.

Until she stopped at a photo. From the quality, you could tell it was old. They were hugging each other in the middle of the racetrack after Norris' F2 race, both smiling at the camera. Lando held his helmet under his arm, and Y/n's cheeks were flushed, as if she had just laughed.

A sob escaped before she could hold it back.

Lando, who was still running his fingers through her hair, noticed the sound and smiled. "Honey, you don't have to cry just because I stopped stroking your hair for a moment." He joked, without taking his eyes off the TV.

But when another sob came, he frowned and finally looked at her. Y/n bit her lip, trying to hold back the tears, but she couldn't.

Lando paused the series. "Hey, what happened?" He asked softly.

Y/n sat up slowly and handed him her phone. Lando looked at the photo and, as soon as he recognized it, he smiled.

"Hey, our first picture together as boyfriend and girlfriend." He chuckled a little, his eyes filled with nostalgia. "Look how we were still teenagers."

Y/n smiled through her tears and snuggled closer to him, peeking at her phone screen as Lando handed the device back to her.

"I have more" She said, sliding to the side.

Lando watched as she scrolled through each photo, pausing for long seconds on some. Her eyes were shining, full of emotion. Until, upon reaching a specific image, Y/n dropped the phone on her lap and cried.

It was a normal night in Lando's room, when they were still in their twenties. The picture showed Y/n lying on the bed, wearing one of his baggy t-shirts and sweatpants, her hair messy on the pillow. She was laughing, her eyes shining with joy, while Lando held the camera with one hand and stretched his arm out to capture the moment. He was smiling too, his face close to hers, his cheeks flushed as if he had just laughed along with her.

It was one of those spontaneous photos, without poses or worries. Just the two of them, young and in love, living a peaceful and happy moment.

Lando chuckled, turning to her. "Baby, why are you crying like that?"

Y/n raised her head, her eyes red and teary. "Because I love you," she said with a choked voice. "You're the love of my life, Lan. I'm so happy to have been with you for so many years... I... I'm just crying with happiness."

Lando's heart melted. He ran his fingers down her face, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and smiling. "We'll spend many, many years together," he promised. "I don't want any other life than with you, Y/n. You're my best friend, my companion... The person who knows me better than I know myself. I'm so grateful that you're with me."

Y/n cried harder, hiding her face in his shoulder. "I love you so much."

"I love you so much, love" He murmured, holding her close.

After a few minutes, she picked up her phone again and looked at the photos. Now, between one funny comment and another, Lando laughed at her reactions.

"Honey, why are you crying now?"

"Because this picture is perfect! Look how beautiful you are!"

In it, Lando was in overalls, still sweaty and disheveled, sitting on the step of the McLaren motorhome. His smile was huge, radiant, as he held a bottle of water in his hand and smiled at his girlfriend. But the most special detail was Y/n, sitting one step below him, holding his face between her hands and looking at him with a sparkle in her eyes.

Lando hadn't even realized that photo existed. Probably someone on the team had recorded the moment without them knowing.

"You cry over everything, you know that?" He laughed, shaking his head. "And I'm all sweaty in this picture. Far from looking good."

"Oh, mind your own business!" Y/n laughs, pushing him lightly on the couch and making him laugh out loud.

But Lando was already used to that. Since he was 18, he had been dating the sweet girl who cried at everything. At first, he thought it was because of those female hormones, but he soon discovered that Y/n was, in fact, a sentimental girl who valued every detail.

At the beginning of their relationship, her parents had to help him understand this. They said that their daughter had been like this since she was a baby and that when she started crying, it was best to let her get it all out.

Over time, Lando learned his own ways to soothe her. He knew that holding her tight helped. That whispering sweet words in her ear made her sobs lessen. And that sometimes she just wanted to know he was there.

And Lando always would be.

He wouldn't change a thing about her. Because he loved Y/n exactly the way she was.

[theuntoldstorythatneedsawriter]

Wrong name 👕⚽️

Ingrid Engen × reader

warning : fluffy 💭💗

(my first language isn't english, sorry for any grammar or spelling mistakes)

Summary :

You decide to wear Alexia’s jersey to a match, instead of Ingrid’s.

You knew exactly what you were doing when you grabbed the Alexia Putellas jersey from your wardrobe. It wasn’t an accident, and it wasn’t a mistake. You wanted to see how your girlfriend would react. She was always so calm, composed, and never really the jealous type. With this little experiment, you hoped to get some kind of reaction.

As you slipped on Alexia’s jersey, you couldn’t stop thinking about all the different ways Ingrid could react, especially considering you always showed up to her matches wearing her name.

You walked into the stadium with a playful smirk, already imagining her reaction. The energy of the crowd surrounded you as you found your seat, excitement building for the big game. But, even as the match kicked off, you couldn’t focus on the action in front of you. Your mind was too preoccupied with how Ingrid would take this little joke.

When she spotted you from the pitch, there was a brief flash of confusion in her eyes, followed by what you could only describe as irritation. Ingrid’s gaze lingered on you for a moment, you could practically feel her thoughts from where you sat:

Really? Alexia?

As the game went on, you couldn’t help but giggle every time Ingrid glanced your way. Her performance was flawless, of course, nothing seemed to shake her focus on the field. But between plays, when her eyes caught yours again, you noticed a little frown tugging at her lips.

After the final whistle, you made your way to the players’ area, trying your best to hide your anticipation. The moment Ingrid emerged from the tunnel, she let out an annoyed:

-Really?

Cossing her arms, a mix of amusement and annoyance on her face.

- Alexia’s shirt?

You grinned, pretending to be innocent.

- What ? She’s a legend! Plus, it’s a really comfortable.

Ingrid eyes were filled with annoyance but you could still see a playful glint in them.

- I see how it is. Preferring the captain to your own girlfriend, I'm disappointed kjærlighet. (love)

You stepped closer, unable to hide your laughter anymore.

- Don’t be mad. You’re still my favorite player, but I just thought... I don’t know, maybe you’d want a little competition.

Ingrid shook her head, clearly trying to hide her smile.

- Oh, I’m not worried about the competition

She said, stepping closer until she was standing right in front of you.

- I just hope you know who you’re going home with.

Her voice was teasing, but there was an edge to it, a subtle reminder of who you were actually here for. You couldn’t resist.

- Of course I do. The best player on the field.

Ingrid smirked, finally letting her arms drop as she wrapped them around your waist, pulling you in for a quick hug.

- Good

She murmured into your ear, her tone softer now.

- But next time, wear my shirt.

You chuckled, hugging her back.

- We’ll see. I kind of like keeping you on your toes.

As she pulled away, Ingrid rolled her eyes, though you could see she wasn’t really upset.

- Just remember, Alexia might be the captain, but I’m the one you’re stuck with.

You smiled, knowing she was right.

- I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Her hands found your hips, playing with the end of the jersey.

- Take it off.

- What ?

Before you could even processe de information the jersey was off your body. Taking her jersey off, Ingrid handed you her jersey.

- Put it on

- No it's all sweety

She gave you a look that made you put it on immediately, wanting to survive till the end of the night. Once on, Ingrid took a good look at you, admiring your features.

- Better

She grabbed your hand and walked straight to the parking lot, impatient to finally get home. Alexia mouthing a "Good luck" as you pass by, having seen the all thing.

[saiyanprincessswanie]

Rightfully His…

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Word Count: 3028

Summary: You thought your husband was a kindhearted, gentleman who was deeply in love with you. When you catch your husband murdering someone in cold blood you freak out and run away from him. Bucky is in search of you and is determined to find you. Will he kill you or will he claim what is rightfully his?

Warnings: Smut, teasing, rough sex, choking, possessive, mention of killing the reader a few times, pet name (sweetheart), brief violence mentioned & minor character killed.

A/N 1: Thank you to my beta readers @lfnr-blog-blog-blog & @pigwidgeonxo 💜 (any mistakes in spelling & grammar are my own. I wrote this on my phone)

A/N 2: divider by @whimsicalrogers & header by me.

Reblogs & Comments on Tumblr are welcomed and encouraged. 😊💜

I do NOT give my consent to have my work translated or reposted on any social media platform, apps, or third-party sites. If you see my work anywhere besides my personal Tumblr & AO3 accounts, it has been stolen. I will NEVER give written or verbal permission to repost or translate any of my fanfics as they’re MY intellectual property. 🚫🚫

It’s been two and a half weeks since you ran away from him. The life you thought you wanted with Bucky was a huge shame. You thought James “Bucky” Barnes was this kind-hearted businessman who swept you off your feet. He was a gentleman, ambitious, caring, protective, and the love of your life. Whatever you wanted, Bucky made sure you had it. It wasn’t about the money and lifestyle though it was how he treated you. He would worship the ground you walked on if you let him. This man was deeply in love with you and you with him.

Now, it turns out he’s a mobster who kills people for a living. Five years of marriage down the drain because you weren’t supposed to be home yet. You had walked in on Bucky interrogating a man strapped to a chair and begging for his life. That life was cut short in front of you as you let out a scream. Bucky looked up at you with both anger and regret in his eyes. He tried to talk to you but you were scared of him and slept in one of the spare bedrooms. Fearful he might kill you next for what you saw. Not wanting to risk it the next day you left. 

You had taken money from your bank account, passport, and clothes and fled your home. Going from bus to bus you traveled as far as you could from him and decided to stay in a small town in the middle of nowhere. Keeping your head down you rented out a motel room. You kept to yourself and hardly ever left the room. This was a temporary plan as you tried to figure out how to leave the country. Anywhere in the world was better than here. 

Where would you go? Could you move on from this marriage knowing who your husband was? What if he tried to find you? The stress got to you as you ran to the toilet to throw up your lunch. Flushing the toilet you go to the sink to brush your teeth. Your mouth is now minty fresh as you ponder the one question that keeps haunting you. Would he kill you if he ever found you? 

Your hands clenched around the sink as you took in your reflection in the mirror. The bags under your eyes show that you haven’t slept much since heading out on your own. Looking away from the mirror you head into the small room and sit on the bed. Your heart mourns for what could have been between you and Bucky. Now that future is no longer a dream for you.

There was a knock at your door that sent fear down your spine. Could it be him? You shake your head at the thought. There is no way he found you in this little town. Again the knock rang out in your room and you slowly made your way to the door. Looking through the peephole you see a woman holding towels. You open it slowly and are greeted by a friendly voice. 

“I have fresh towels for you hun. I know it’s been a few days since you switched them out.” She reached out to give them to you and politely you took them.

“Thank you, I appreciate it,” you mumbled. 

“If you need anything hun you just call down to the front desk and we will get it for you.” The lady turned around and started to push her cart to the next room.

You closed the door and set the towels down on the towel rack in the bathroom. A knock on your door rang out again and you wondered what she wanted now. Huffing you walked to the door and opened it up. There in front of you was your husband, Bucky. He placed a finger to your mouth to shush you. His deep blue eyes stared into your soul as he smiled at you.

“Hello, my beautiful wife. Happy to see me?” He chuckled as you stared at him in shock.

Bucky started to push his way into the room and shut the door. You wanted to scream for help but it died on your tongue. You walked backward until your legs hit the bed and you sat down, tears falling from your eyes. This couldn’t be real. How did he find you?

Bucky took in your features and sighed. He knew you were tired from running for the last two-plus weeks. He could tell you were scared of him and that didn’t help what he was feeling inside. Bucky wanted to yell at you and curse you for leaving him. But he knew you were too frail to take his anger. So he kneeled in front of you and grabbed your hand. 

“Do you know why I’m here sweetheart?” 

Slowly you nodded your head. “T-To kill me?” The tears continued to fall from your eyes as he just stared at you. There was nowhere to run anymore. This was the end of the line for you. 

There was a long silence between you both before he said anything. “As tempting as that is, no, I’m not here to kill you sweetheart. I’m here to take you home with me.”

You looked at him confused by what he said. “But I thought… I mean I saw you kill someone. Don’t mobsters like to tie up loose ends and get rid of witnesses?”

Bucky couldn’t help the laugh that escaped his lips. “Most of the time, yes. But what you witnessed that’s on me for bringing my work home. Do you know why that man was murdered?”

You shook your head no. Did you even want to know at this point? The less you knew the better it was for you.

Wiping the tears that continued to fall from your eyes, Bucky leaned in to kiss your forehead. “That man wanted to kill you. The thought of you being taken from me forever sent me in a rage. You’re my wife and I love you with every breath I take. I tortured that man until I got him to squeal like the pig he was. His reasoning to kill you was to hurt me and the empire that I’ve built. But I vowed to protect you on our wedding day and it still holds true today. I would rather die than see you hurt on my watch. So please understand why I did it. It was all for you.”

His words started to make you feel sick again. Someone wanted you to die? But who? You were merely a housewife. However, that didn’t seem true anymore. You were the housewife of a mobster who ran an empire in New York. He not only loved you deeply but he also killed for you. Killed in the name of love. 

“Bucky, I don’t know what to say. This is all too much for me to take in. So you just regularly kill people who threaten me? Was this the only guy or have there been more?”

He took a deep breath and exhaled. “This wasn’t the first and probably won’t be the last. It’s the head of a rival mob that wants you dead. That’s why you need to come with me so I can protect you. Can’t you see I need you by my side? I’m asking you to trust me and follow me out of here before someone gets to you.”

“How can I trust you Bucky? You lied about your work all these years and pretended to be someone else. It’s like I don’t even know you. How do I know this isn’t a lie to get me to leave with you so you can kill me?”

Your breaths start to pick up as you start to hyperventilate. You could feel the familiar panic attack start to hit. This was not how you saw this playing out. Bucky helped you with your breathing exercises to slowly calm you down. 

Bucky looked at you seriously. “You can trust me 'cause I’m your husband. I only lied about my job but that was to protect you. I see now I should have been honest with you from the beginning. But you do know me, sweetheart. I’m still the same man that you married. Please stop thinking I’m going to kill you. That breaks my heart every time you bring it up.”

Bucky stands up now and helps you to your feet. “We need to leave now, please.” He all but begs you. 

Catching your breath you look for your bag on the table and start to gather all the clothes and items you brought with you. Within minutes you are packed and Bucky goes to the front door and opens it. His best friend and right-hand man, Steve, looks back at him.

“The coast is clear, boss. Though I’m getting word someone is on their way here now.” 

Bucky looks back at you with his hand outstretched. “Come on, let's go home.”

Hearing what Steve said had you holding Bucky’s hand and walking quickly out of the room. Within seconds you are in a black SUV and being whisked away to the private airport just outside of town. Your hand clenched against his as you reached the airport. There was a private jet waiting on the tarmac as you both walked hand in hand and got on the plane. Within moments the plane was in the sky and you were both heading back to New York.

Exhausted from an emotional standpoint you found yourself in Bucky’s lap on the plane with your head under his chin sleeping peacefully. Steve sat in a seat opposite him and smiled at his friend. “I hope you’re right about this boss.”

When the plane landed Bucky woke you up gently by kissing your temple. Your eyes blinked a few times as you stretched your arms over your head. Bucky grabbed your hand again and you both exited the plane where another SUV was waiting to take you home. Driving back home the SUV pulled up to your house on the outskirts of the city. Exiting the SUV you and Bucky walked up the steps and entered the front door. It was exactly how you left it.

“I’m going to head to the bedroom so I can soak in the tub before bed. Is that alright with you?” You questioned, taking your husband's form in.

“Yes, sweetheart, that’s fine with me. I will be up in a minute or two.”

As you climbed the stairs you headed toward the bedroom and shut the door.

Steve watched you both in silence and didn’t speak until you were out of sight. “Do you think it’s smart bringing her back? She could be a liability. Maybe you should have stuck with your original plan after she left.”

Bucky turned to his friend and backhanded him causing Steve’s face to whip to the side. “The decision has been made and she is home now. I can’t live without her. Maybe if you found love Steven you would understand my decision.”

Heading up the stairs Bucky starts to think things out. Truth is it didn’t take them the full two and a half weeks to find you. As soon as you left New York there was a tail on you. Bucky always made sure someone was watching you at all times. So the first day you stepped into that little town he was notified of your well-being. He gave you two weeks to decide what you wanted to do. Were you going to fly and have him chase you around the globe or were you going to come quietly back home to him? Thankfully, you chose right, and now he has you back in his life again. Plus with you going to learn to trust him again he wouldn’t have to kill you after all. Yes, he contemplated it when you first left but his dark heart was against it from the start. He did love you and couldn’t wait to start a family with you. Now that you know the truth he could make you his Queen.

Walking into the bedroom he closed the door behind him. He could see you in the tub from where he stood and licked his lips. You were always a temptress to him and made him weak in the knees. Bucky was gonna make you his tonight to be sure you were never leaving him again. Slowly he started to undress as he made his way to the bathroom. By the time he stood beside the tub, his cock was rock hard. You stared up at him with doe eyes and exhaled with how big and thick his cock was standing at attention. It was something that still had you aching for him, for that stretch between your legs. 

“Sit forward sweetheart so I can sit behind you. I want to help you relax.”

You did as he said and made room for him to sit down. The tub was huge and could sit you both comfortably. Once he got seated he pulled your back to his chest and kissed your shoulder. His hands started to wander your body as you started making soft noises of pleasure. Every gasp and hitched breath made him want to take you more. But for now, he knew you needed this first to relax your mind, body, and spirit. He caressed your breasts and pinched your nipples, rolling them between his fingers. You arched against him moaning his name softly as his right hand descended your body and to his favorite spot between your legs. His fingers found your clit and started to rub it in slow circles making you whine cause you needed more pressure there. The more he teased you the more you whined against his shoulder. This is how he liked you, a moaning mess who begged for what she needed. 

“Please Bucky, I need you. I have to have you inside me.” Your hips moved to the way he was working you and suddenly he stopped, making you huff in frustration.

“I love it when you beg for me. If I’m going to take you it will be in our bed where I can fuck you like I hate you.” He growled out at you. 

Draining the tub both you and Bucky got out and quickly dried off. Heading to the bedroom Bucky grabbed you by the back of the neck and led you to the king-size bed. Reaching the bed he pushed you face down and grabbed your hips. Before you could say anything Bucky had thrusted his long, thick cock into you hard drawing out a pornographic moan from you. His pace was hard as he fucked you deeply. Your hands dig into the sheets as your husband takes you like a useless whore. His fingers dig harder into your hips as he groans above you.

“Take my cock. Every fucking inch of it.” He breathed out over and over. 

“Fuck, yes, Bucky. More…” you begged. 

Bucky’s left-hand moves to your clit and harshly starts rubbing it. In a matter of seconds, you are moaning his name loud for all to hear. Your walls clenching around him almost taking him over that hurdle but he quickly pulls out and flips you over to your back. He pushes you up the bed a little and re-enters you in one painful thrust. Your legs are around his trim waist while he is battering your pussy using you for his pleasure. His right-hand grabs your neck and starts choking you. Your hands fly up to his hand and try to alleviate the pressure on your neck.

“This pussy is mine. You are mine.” He growls out at you. “If you ever leave me again I swear no one will ever find your body. Do you understand me? Nod your pretty head if you understand.”

You frantically nod your head to the best of your ability. As Bucky pounds into your pussy over and over again. After a few punishing thrusts, Bucky feels your body tense around him as you silently scream your release this time taking Bucky with you.  Bucky lets your throat go as he cums with a roar painting your insides with his release.

You gasp for air while Bucky pulls out of you and collapses next to you on his side. The only sound in the room is you both panting in and out. Sex was always like this between you both, rough, hard, and exhilarating. But when he said no one would find your body if you ever left again made you nervous. Was he just saying things in the heat of the moment as usual? It had to have been ‘cause he promised never to hurt you. 

Bucky got up to clean himself off first then returned to the bedroom with a washcloth to clean you up. He was humming when you both crawled under the blankets to get ready for bed. You clung to his side as you rested your head on his chest. Bucky just wrapped you up in his arms and held you. 

“No one will ever mess with you ever again my love. For if they do they will feel the wrath of me pouring down upon them ten times over. You are my lover, my wife, my everything, and nothing will ever tear us apart again.”

“Yes, Bucky.” A part of you loved knowing he would always protect you. That he had the means to do so. The other part was terrified of what this man could do to not only his enemies but to you. Now you were too scared to leave his side ever again. 

You had drifted off to sleep as Bucky started to put a plan in place if you ever left him again. The house did have a nice basement that he could convert into a living area to lock you away from the world. He would never be without you again. I mean you’re rightfully his.

Updated taglist 2024

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[messylustt]

౨ৎ ‧˚

𝐞𝐥 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐨 (𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐥) — 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐮𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐨𝐧

miguel o’hara x fem!reader. 3.6k words

fic masterlist previous part pt six next part

mentions of injury; miguel be fantasising bout you guys; miguel makes you say spanish sentences that you don’t know the meaning of (i don’t think this is a warning but oh well); please also forgive if there’s any grammar/spelling mistakes (I’m tired af) — after the incident you wake up at HQ, with a note saying your hired status. with confusion you go to speak to miguel. along the way there and back you get your friends acting suspicious. miguel finally begins to accept that he wants to keep you close.

Your eyes slowly blink open, bright light invading your vision. At first you just lie there, no thoughts really occupying your brain.

As you go to sit up, having realised that you're lying on a bed, a hand suddenly rests on your shoulder. You turn to see Hobie. "Careful there, mate, wouldn't want ya knocking out again."

"What..." You drift off, brows furrowing as you rub your temples. "Knocked out...oh." Thoughts, or more so memories, begin to flood your brain. The different universe. Miles. The masked men. The running...and then...Miguel. You remember seeing Miguel, he had helped you, asking you to stay quiet.

You remember the instant feeling of relief when he had spoken, and then the droopy feeling of your exhausted body.

You go to swing your legs off the bed, as you gaze around the medical room. But Hobie keeps his hand on your shoulder. "You've gone through some stuff over the past couple days, take it easy."

"I'm alright...thank you." You nod, giving him a small smile. "Am I back at HQ?" Then you further mutter. "I thought he'd send me home."

"Yeah, me too...but maybe your act of defiance changed his mind." Hobie chuckles.

You go to shake my head. "I didn't mean t-"

"Mean to go, yeah don't worry we knew not long after you disappeared." Hobie interrupts.

You nod, but then your brows begin to furrow. "Wait, how did you know?"

"Miguel actually found out. He got pissed you left a day early. Thanks for that, by the way." Hobie nudges your shoulder gently.

You softly chuckle, though your thoughtful expression stays. "How'd he found out? I could've just gone home. I planned to just go home."

"I think he went to your universe." Hobie says, a sly grin forming.

You stare at him. "Why? To tell me I should have worked that day?"

Hobie shrugs. "Maybe."

You shift your body, so that you're somewhat facing him more. "What aren't you telling me?"

"Hm?" Hobie hums, acting innocent.

"Hobie don't have that expression if you're gonna stay silent." You wave your finger in front of his face.

Hobie stands, putting his hands in his pockets. "I don't know what you're talking about, y/n."

"Hobie."

But he's already walking out he door. "Oh." He pokes his head back in. "There's some lunch on that table there. Be grateful I didn't eat it."

;;

You stare at the note in your hand. It read 'You're not fired as of Tuesday'.

"Peter, hey. Have you seen Miguel?" You ask as Peter nears you, your hand now scrunching around the note. Another god forsaken note.

"Y/n, hey. Glad to see you look less pale." Peter smiles, but you're persistent.

"Apparently I'm not fired?"

"You got your job back, nice." Peter at first doesn't notice your blatant narrowed gaze. But when he does, his smile turns to a frown of confusion. "You don't seem happy about that."

"I'm confused. He isn’t one to mess with people…right?"

Peter tilts his head to the side. "Eh, part of me wouldn’t be surprised if he did." He mutters.

"I mean, not even a day ago he was wanting me gone. Not that much has happened to change his mind." You say.

"Actually a lot has happened."

"Yeah, but that stuff shouldn't change his decision about me working here."

Peter shrugs. "Maybe it did."

"Your elaboration there is great, Peter, thanks." Your sarcasm is clear.

Peter smiles, fixing the spider beanie on Mayday's head, as she babbles on about something. "Go talk to him. Most of the time I can't read him, so I wouldn't have a clue."

"That's why I'm trying to find him." You say, to which Peter answers with "I think I saw him heading to the top floor."

And so you make your way to the stairs to heaven (hell). You had just walked down them in an effort to find Miguel, now you were walking up them...in an effort to find Miguel. This fact only seemed make you even more annoyed with him.

Great, you got your job back, but at this point you needed to know why. You needed to know what made him change his mind that quickly. Nothing else ever has. Miguel has always been one to make final decisions, with not much there to sway him.

You think back to Miguel’s reasoning for his initial firing, as you walk up the steps. It was because of the attack. So why would he re-hire you because of another one? Or more so because of the same masked men who had attacked. Were they even the reason?

Does Miguel think you know something, and is wanting you back to tell him? No—you think to yourself. He wouldn’t re-hire you for that simple reason.

When you reach the top, your gaze gets caught up in a decision of what direction to take. None of his offices were up here. The only place you can think that Miguel would go is his room.

But you pause in front of his door. Did you really want to go in there? He’s clearly not working if is in there. God, but you had too many unanswered questions, so you knock.

It’s silent for a moment, besides your breathing and the distant chatter of spider-people. You go to knock again, but the door creaks open. It’s darker inside, the dim lighting reminding you of one of his past requests. You can remember the feel of his broad shoulders when giving him that massage. The small groans he would let slip.

You had pushed aside that memory, not liking the way it made your entire body buzz. “Miguel?”

Then he opens the door wider, staring down at you. His position was surprisingly relaxed, one arm leant against the doorframe, as he wore those monotoned clothes that brought out his red eyes.

Speaking of those red eyes, you caught them scanning your body, a little too slowly and for a little too long. You gulp, not meaning to come across so nervous.

You hold up the severely scrunched up note. Miguel shifts his gaze to it. “I see you decided to take your annoyance out on that this time.” He comments.

You narrow your eyes. “Why am I not fired?”

“I thought you’d be happy to see that note.” He says, relaxing more against the doorframe.

“No. I’m not happy to see any note.” You say, lowering your arm. “Why couldn’t you just tell me in person?”

“Because I wanted to avoid this.” He gestures to you in general.

“You can’t expect me not to be a little curious at the sudden change of heart.” You say, trying not to let your gaze drift down his body. When he had shifted his shirt rose a fraction, letting you see part of his hips and abs.

Of course he had abs. You weren’t blind to how built he was, but the small visual still seemed to make you blink too many times and your brain re-wire.

“You don’t need to be curious.” Miguel states, his tongue running along his fang as if he were bored, but the expression in his eyes begged to differ.

“But I am.” You say, tucking the note in your back pocket. “Look, it’s beneficial for you if I know the reason. Then I can work on what made you want to fire me and continue doing what made you re-hire me.”

“Don’t do what made me re-hire you.” Miguel quickly answers.

Your brows furrow. “You’re saying that like what I did was bad…Why would you hire me for something you don’t want me to do again?”

“You ask a lot of questions, you know that?”

“Don’t worry, I have a lot more in my head for you.” You smile.

Miguel shakes his head, looking away with a clench to his jaw. The tiniest of smiles edged the corner of his mouth, but with his turned away head you weren’t able to catch it. And when he glanced back it was gone.

“Can’t I do something without being questioned?” Miguel asks. “I mean, you got your job back, you should be happy…and any other sparkly emotion.”

“You should use those ‘sparkly emotions’ more often, O’Hara. You know people who can lead with positivity usually get more people on their side.” You tilt your head with a raise to your brow.

“You do realise going off track isn’t gonna make me tell you anything.” Miguel says.

Your smile falls as you press your lips together with a sigh. Miguel darts his gaze up your form again, checking your injuries. Your ankle was only partially sprained so no cast was needed, but his gaze kept on getting caught up on the small cuts that littered your body. Some faint, some more prominent, like the one on your bottom lip.

Before he knows it he’s grabbing a belt loop of your pants, pulling you slightly closer as he tilts your head how he wants. Your eyes widen at the action as your heart begins to pick a quicker pace. Two of his fingers stay under your chin—keeping your head tilted up—while his thumb hovers over your cut lip, his gaze narrowed in inspection.

“You should make sure that that doesn’t get infected.” He says in a whisper.

You scoff, though it comes out softer than intended, you having to gulp immediately after. You had been right—having him this close was going to give you a heart attack. “That’s rich coming from you.” Your voice has turned to a mere whisper also.

“You keep seeming to forget that you’re only human.” He mutters. “Weak.”

“You forgot annoying.” You mutter back. Miguel meets your gaze and you freeze. He was close. Too close. Because your mind was beginning to fog over as you stared at Miguel’s intrigued eyes.

Then suddenly he says “We’ll continue our Spanish lessons in a few hours.”

“I don’t think that’s necessary anymore.” You say, to which his eyes narrow, his hold still keeping your head tilted up.

“Really?” He sounds disbelieving. “So, you manage to say one Spanish sentence, and that’s it? you’re done?” He tilts his head his eyes darting. “I thought you were more determined than that.”

You narrow your eyes in turn. “And I learnt that sentence from my phone. So, yes, I think I’m fine.”

A small sneering smirk began to curve his lips. “I thought I took your phone.”

Your mouth opens and closes. “I…got a new one.”

“Or…you stole it back.” He counters, raising a brow.

“It’s easier this way. I don’t have to bother you with lessons.”

“But I liked getting something in return.” He answers smoothly.

“You were asking for things anyone could do.” You say.

“But I’d have to pay for someone to give me a massage.” He mocks sadness. “When you were there being oh so nice and generous.”

“I wasn’t being generous. It was apart of the deal.”

“And it still is.”

“No. You firing me, got rid of the deal altogether.” You say, moving to step away, wanting to breath in air that wasn’t getting mixed in with his.

But he pulls you back, tightening his hold on your chin a fraction, one of his fingers dragging to rest on the in-between of your jaw and neck.

“But I re-hired you, which means the deal’s back on.”

“What if I say no to the job?” You suddenly ask.

“Chaparrita, you’re not gonna say no.”

And you hated the fact that he was right. No matter what people said you did like this job, being around all these spider variants. It settled for an interesting life.

Miguel’s finger—that rested by your jaw—started to subtly caress back and forth. It had soon grown into a habit of his, when he got the chance to touch you.

There was almost something soothing about it for him. Being able to feel your soft skin against his claws, that he would usually only use for violence. A contradiction that silently said to him ‘Not everything about you is violent. Not everything has to be’.

And those words only seemed to come up in your presence. At first he had been annoyed by them and that fact. He doesn’t have time or the energy for “feelings” and such. He had to stay focused.

But over—especially—the past few days his annoyance had fizzled away, slowly but surely. Shifting to a feeling that he much preferred, one that made his body buzz with heat. And of course—only in your presence.

So, yes, maybe he did re-hire you so that the masked men wouldn’t be able to find you in your home, but maybe it was also for selfish reasons. Not liking the idea of not seeing you, even if his scowl was still present.

He liked being around you, even just listening to you talk. It all still confused him, but he finally recognised his want for you to stay. To make him feel settled, calm even.

At the end of the day, both his ‘reasons’ for re-hiring you are selfish and he knows it. He wants you close and in his line of vision, and he was going to make sure things stayed that way.

“Alright.” You say, finally agreeing to continuing this deal with Miguel. “But please don’t make me run around endlessly.”

“Have I been?” He shakes his head for you. “No. I’ve only given you easy tasks.”

You don’t why he has but you are definitely grateful. “Don’t use your phone again.” He suddenly says.

“Many people use phones for different thin—“

Miguel cuts in, sparing you an annoyed look. “For Spanish lessons.”

You finally manage to step back, holding in your sigh of relief until you were alone. Miguel watched you intently, catching onto the way your hand began to fiddle nervously with the very same belt loop he had been holding onto.

“I’ll uh…see you in a few hours then.” You say, beginning to step backwards down the hallway. “In the tech room?”

Miguel shakes his head. “It’s still being repaired. Just come back to my room.”

You ignore the flutter in your stomach, as you nod. “See you then.” Then you swiftly turn and head towards the stairs.

Miguel watches you go, his lips curving up into an easy smile.

;;

A few hours later—those hours having been filled with back and forth thoughts—you were walking past all the different spider variants, heading towards Miguel’s room.

You narrowed your feelings down to nervousness, having gone in a roundabout of thinking ‘it’s fine’ ‘I’ll be fine’ to ‘im starting to sweat’ ‘why the hell am I starting to sweat?!’

“Y/n!” A voice stopped you, and you turn to see Miles, Gwen and Hobie.

“Miles.” You smile. “So sorry for practically leaving you back there.” You did feel bad.

“Please don’t. I would have told you to run anyway. Those men were scary.” He made a face which made you chuckle. “They had like….real large claws.”

“Yeah…would much prefer never to see them again.” You half chuckle.

“How are you?” Gwen asks, taking her hood off.

You nod. “Good. Better. Yeah…a lot better.” You glance down at your ankle. “Wish I wasn’t so accident prone though.”

“Nah.” Hobie begins, swinging his arm around your shoulder. “You jus’ have a running theme of bein’ in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“That makes me feel so much better.” You scoff.

“Where are you headed anyway?” Hobie asks you.

“Oh, just to Miguel’s—“ you pause. You were gonna say ‘Miguel’s bedroom’ but then realised how strange that would sound. “To speak to Miguel.”

“I thought you already did?” Gwen asks, brushing her hair from her eyes.

“Yes…but…we have more to discuss.” You nod.

“Like what? Does he want to talk to you about his strange display of worry the other day?” Hobie asks with a sly smirk.

You glance at him, brows furrowing. “Coz that don’t really sound like him.” Hobie continues.

“You’re doing that face again.” You say, narrowing your eyes.

“Am I?” He again prays innocence.

“Yeah, you are. And it’s beyond annoying.”

“Jus’ like I thought he found you.” Hobie mutters almost smugly.

“What?”

In response Hobie just smiles at you, putting his hands in his pockets. You shift your gaze to Gwen, who is looking away.

“Why are you guys acting so suspicious?” You ask.

“We just find it…strange is all.” Gwen says.

“Find what strange?”

“Well…Miguel was the one to bring you in…which isn’t strange, but it was just the way he was acting.” Gwen begins, making your brows furrow further.

“I’m not following.” You say slowly.

“He didn’t really let any of the doctors touch you up.” Gwen continues.

“Then how….?” You’re confused. Because you had woken up with clean cuts and a fixed ankle.

“Ay, what are we all talking about, you guys?” Pav appears, swinging down from a different ceiling path.

“Jus’ about Miguel’s strange actions in medical.” Hobie says.

“Oh yeah!” Pav nods quickly. “He was acting really different. Wouldn’t let anyone near you, y/n.” He gestures to you, to which you raise your brows in disbelief. Then Pav chuckles. “It was almost like he was—“

But Gwen cuts him quickly. “He was just acting different. That’s all.” Gwen spares Pavitr a small glare.

“Okayyy.” You drag out, eyeing them all again. “Right now Miles is the only one seeming to be acting normal. Which I appreciate.” You had begun to back up down the path. Miles spares you a small smile in response.

As you begin to head to Miguel’s room, their words circled your head. What did they mean by ‘didn’t let the doctors touch you up’ or ‘didn’t let anyone near you’. They’re right—that is different from Miguel. So far different that you just can’t seem to believe it.

Maybe they were playing some prank. But even though you can see Hobie and Pav coming up with that joke, you can’t see Gwen getting in on it.

But those thoughts soon drift away as you near Miguel’s door again. You knock, feeling your palms increase in sweat.

Miguel opens the door. Upon seeing you he tilts his head, asking for you to come inside. You do, slipping past him and into the cozy, dim room.

“I hope you’ve come up with some helpful phrases.” You say turning to him. “Because I gave up my phone for this.”

Miguel pulls out a desk chair, taking a seat. You look around, seeing no other chair to occupy. “Use my bed.” He says, gesturing to his ruffled sheets.

You turn your gaze to it, holding down the small hitch of your breath. Why was it hitching? It was just a bed.

You walk over, carefully taking a seat at the edge, facing an already seated Miguel. “And yes, I am better than your phone.” He says, meeting your gaze.

“You sure?” You question. “My phone is pretty helpful.”

“And you’re saying I’m not?” Miguel asks with a small tilt his head. “That hurts.” His dry humour was something that had grown on you. Whether you liked it or not.

“Quiero ir a la feria.” It was a simple beginner question that you repeated effortlessly.

“Quiero ir a la feria.”

“It means ‘I want to go to the fair’.” Miguel explains.

After a few more simple sentences, a idea pops up in Miguel’s head. He probably shouldn’t execute it, but of course he still will.

“Me encantaría usar tu cama para otras cosas.” Miguel says, waiting for you to repeat it.

“Me encantaría usar tu cama para otras cosas.” You repeat, your flow having gotten a lot better.

Miguel’s breathing hitches upon hearing the words. You had assumed he got you to say something simple, along the lines of ‘I am a farmer who plants trees’. But he instead made you say ‘I’d love to use your bed for other things’.

And Miguel should probably stop and move on, but he doesn’t particularly want to. “¿No crees que me vería bonita atrapada entre tus sábanas, Miguel?”

“Aren’t you gonna tell me what the other sentence means?” You ask.

“Repeat it.” Miguel doesn’t budge.

You sigh. “¿No crees que me vería bonita atrapada entre tus sábanas, Miguel?” (Don’t you think I’d look pretty trapped in your sheets, Miguel?) You tilt your head, staring at him. All you know is that you asked him a question, but that’s about it.

Miguel breathes heavier, giving you a once over. “Tan bonita.” (So pretty.) He murmers.

“Do you want me to repeat that too?” You ask.

Miguel chuckles. “That’s fine.” Your words staying trapped in Miguel’s brain, seeming to repeat…over and over.

Miguel’s gaze kept flicking to your lips. Conflicting emotions resided behind this action. He could see your cut, which reminded him of the fact that you got dragged into a mess you didn’t particularly ask for, resulting in you getting injured and down right hunted.

The other emotion veered closer to his reasoning for getting you to say those sentences. He wanted to feel them. Lean closer…and see what they felt like. Maybe he wanted to soothe your cut with his tongue…

“Miguel? Are you gonna tell me what I just said?” You ask, leaning closer to get his attention.

Miguel meets your gaze. “I’ll let you try and figure it out.”

“That’s not very good teaching.” You mutter.

He just shrugs. “Then I guess you‘ll never know.”

“And don’t translate it on your phone.” Miguel says pointedly. “That would make you a bad student.”

You clench your jaw but nod. “Fine…” your gaze shifts to the window, seeing the dark sky.

You quickly stand. “I didn’t realise it was this late. I should go.” You begin to head to the door.

Miguel watches your every movement, until you glance back giving him a small nod. “Thanks for somewhat of a good lesson.”

Miguel just hums with a nod, as you turn shutting the door and leaving. Leaving Miguel to gaze back at his bed and where you were seated.

He had already begun to decide on what he wants in return.

ok, this post isn’t letting me add the colours and now I’m sad

this part was a little less action, coz i wanted focus more on miguel’s fEeLiNgS. coz boy does he have them

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[sena-seastar]

Burning Desire

Aemond x Older!sister Reader

Summary: You rush off to confront your brother Aemond after discovering he hurt your sister, only to find him crying. You are angry at him for what he has done, but you cannot stand to see your little brother suffer.

Warnings:  Angst, Smut, Sibling incest

A/N: This was supposed to be an angsty comfort fic, but it very quickly got out of hand. All dialogue in italics means that the characters are speaking in High Valyrian. I was just too lazy to attempt to translate it. No beta, so I apologize for any grammar and spelling mistakes. (Gif is not mine!)

You stormed through the castle halls, ignoring the maids and knights who quickly stepped out of your way. Usually, you would give them some sign of acknowledgment, but tonight, you couldn’t— not when your anger was boiling over. Your hands trembled with repressed rage, and your fingers curled into fists as you tried desperately to refrain from lashing out. There was only one person who was deserving of your wrath, and you were headed to find him now. 

When you arrived at his door, you entered the room, not bothering to knock. The loud sound of the wooden door slamming close behind you echoed in the air. The room was dark; only a few candles were lit, though they were burning dangerously low. You squint your eyes, searching until you find the silver-haired man hunched over in his chair. Your robe made a slight whooshing sound as you stormed over to his side. 

“How dare you!” Your voice cut through the air like a sharpened blade, every word dripping with venom and contempt.

Aemond says nothing. His head is lowered, and his long silver tresses conceal his face.

“You dare to lay a hand on our sister?! Has she not suffered enough?! And now you wish to send her into battle?!” Your chest is heaving wildly as you lose what little composure remains to you.

Once again, you are met with a deafening silence that angers you even more.

“Have you nothing to say?!” you yell, each word cracking like a whip. Your brows furrow and your lips curl into a snarl.

Yet once again, your words go unanswered. You open your lips, prepared to berate him even more until quiet sobs reach your ears. Your blood runs cold, and you freeze. Aemond’s body jerked with every gasp that escaped his throat. 

“I am alone,” he whispers . “As I always have been.”

His words move you to tears. 

“Aemond,” you whisper, stepping closer.

You reach out a hand to touch his shoulder but pull it away just before reaching him. Your mind is suddenly conflicted. Your rage is quickly converting into sadness with every second that passes. The two of you rarely saw eye to eye these past few weeks. His actions above Shipbreaker Bay had left you horrified. The abhorrent murder of your nephew, Jaehaerys, happened not long after. You blamed Aemond for that and did not bother trying to hide it from him.

Then, Aegon returned from Rook’s Rest, burned and broken beyond repair. Your mother came to you shortly after, sharing her thoughts about what had happened. She believed Aemond to be responsible, but you could not bring yourself to believe it at the time. But as the days passed, you found yourself becoming increasingly unsure. Especially after today, when the horrific details of his actions at Sharp Point reached you. Most days, you could hardly even recognize him—this strange man who shares the face of your sweet little brother.

You take a deep breath before reaching out. Your hand trembles as you place it on his shoulder, but he does not flinch from your touch. He leans into it. Aemond raises his head just enough to look you in the eyes. His face is stained with tears, and his eye is red and gleaming with tears, ready to fall. His silver hair is unusually messy and unkempt. The leather eyepatch is gone, exposing the beautiful sapphire embedded into his eyesocket. It is a sight he has entrusted very few to see.

“I am sorry,” he cried. “I didn’t mean to hurt her.”

“I know,” you whisper, pulling him close.

He buries his face into your stomach. His large hands gripped tightly at your sides, and you did your best not to wince. You lift a hand, brushing down his unkempt hair. You were angry at him. You had come here to yell at him, maybe even hit him, but you couldn’t. Not when it filled your heart with great sorrow to see your brother in so much pain. Your little brother. The boy you had always tried so hard to shield from the cruelty of this world. The boy who had always run to you for comfort after being humiliated by Aegon time and time again.

Aemond continued to sob. His tears made the thin fabric of your nightdress stick to your skin, and the cold wetness sent a chill down your spine. You gasp as you feel him pull you down, sitting you on his lap. He held you close, burying his face into the curve of your neck. Your hands rested against the warm, bare skin of his back as you held him. He must have been preparing for bed not long before you arrived as he was only dressed in a pair of black lambswool breeches.

“You are not alone,” you reassure him, gently kissing the scar that marred his brow. “I am here, as I always have been.”

There is a slight chill in the air, but the heat radiating from his skin keeps you warm. Aemond sniffles but says nothing. You can feel his tears sliding down your neck. You move a hand up to his head, toying with his hair. He nuzzles his nose into your neck, seemingly inhaling your scent. Aemond shifts in his seat, spreading his legs a little wider, making the position more comfortable for you. A quiet gasp escapes your throat as you feel the taut muscle of his thigh pressing into the most intimate part of your body.

The feeling sends a rush of heat through your veins. Your breath quickens as you try to push the sensation aside. Your face burns as shame begins to overwhelm you. He just wanted to be close to you, searching for comfort in your arms as he had done many times before. But your body is turning it into something perverse.

Aemond bounced his knee ever so slightly, almost like a tremble. You squirmed, trying to press your thighs closer together in hopes of stopping the heat growing in your stomach. One of Aemond’s large hands rests firmly against the small of your back. The other moves to grip the outside of your thigh.

“Aemond,” you gasp as you feel his lips grazing against our collarbones.

“What?” He asks, his voice so nonchalant.

“I think I should go,” you replied, trying to stand up.

But his hands hold onto you tight, refusing to let you go. 

“Please stay,” he begged, burying his face into the curve of your neck once more.

“Alright,” you whisper, trying to calm him.

His hair tickles your nose. You lift your head a bit, resting your chin on the top of his head. You trail the tips of your fingers against the muscles of his back. Aemond nuzzles his face against your neck. He bounces his knee a bit harder. You wonder if he is doing this on purpose.

“Aemond, stop it,” you mumble, trying to ignore the fire sparking in the pit of your stomach.

“Stop what?” He asked, ghosting his lips over your jaw. 

“You know what,” you whine.

He ignores you; his lips press soft kisses against your jaw. Aemond bunches the skirt of your dress into the hand that grips your thigh. He steadily inches it up higher. The cold air touching your now bare legs makes the hair on your body stand up. Suddenly coming to your senses, you gasp, slapping a hand over his as the skirt of your dress reaches just above your knees. He tries to continue, but you use all the strength you can muster to keep his hand still. 

“We must stop,” you command, trying to stop yourself from giving in to him completely.

This was wrong. You were both betrothed to other people—him to some Baratheon girl and you to the Lord of the Arbor. They were political matches, as most marriages are. You held no love for Lord Redwyne, but you would do your duty as was expected of you.

Aemond easily pushed past your hand, slipping his hand between your thighs. You gasped, trying to squeeze them together to keep him at bay. Your stomach flutters as his thumb rubs across the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. Your fingernails dig into his forearm. You pull back, and he lifts his head to look you in the eyes. 

He removes his hand from between your thighs, moving it up to your face. You find yourself melting into the warmth of his palm. The pad of his thumb ghosts over your lips, but his eye never leaves yours.

“You were supposed to be mine,”   he says in the gentlest tone.

“Aemond,” you whine, trying to push him away.

But he refuses to let you go. The hand on your back kept you from standing. His fingertips trail down the side of your neck down to the neckline of your nightdress. His touch on your skin leaves you feeling almost delirious. The fire in your stomach is fully ablaze now. You squirm in his lap as his fingers graze over the tops of your breasts. You cursed yourself for this, as the feeling of his tense muscles sends waves of heat straight to your cunt. The hairs on the back of your neck raise. Your eyes close, and you bite your lip to stop crying out. 

“Look at me.”  

It is a command that you are unable to ignore. Aemond is the prince regent. In this moment, he speaks with the king’s voice. His absolute authority leaves you fearful and painfully aroused. Once again, your eyes meet his. He says nothing, simply watching you like a predator stalking its prey as his hand moves over your nightdress, cupping your breast. You gasp, slapping a hand over his. You know you should push him away, but you don’t. 

A chill runs down your spine. Under his gaze, you feel completely exposed, almost powerless—a feeling you usually dislike greatly. You were a princess of the realm and a dragon rider. You were anything but helpless. Yet you find yourself wanting nothing more than to surrender yourself to him, to escape from your worries and sorrows, to be free from all the tiring expectations that have been placed upon you since your birth.

“Am I so hard to love?” 

His voice trembled, as he struggled to hold back tears. The authority is gone, replaced with something much more vulnerable. The sight broke your heart in two. You had always worried about Aemond, your sweet, sensitive little brother. Since he had come of age, he had changed. He was colder and more distant, not just from you but from everyone, even your mother, whom you know he cared for greatly. It was like he believed he had to be this... pillar of strength, or all would crumble.

You remove your hand from his, moving it up to cup the scarred side of his face. You lean down, pressing a gentle kiss on his brow. You have done this so many times over the years, yet it has never felt as intimate as it did now. Aemond closed his eye, leaning into your touch. A sharp pain stabs at your heart as you watch how desperate he is for your comfort.

The hand on your breast slid back down to your thigh. Aemond’s fingers toyed with the hem of your skirt. Your thumb traced down the deep scar that marked his cheek. You lean down, peppering kisses from his cheek to his jaw, where the scar stops. He turns his head slightly, so that your lips hover above his, almost touching. You rest your head against his. His violet eye stared into your own.

“What of Floris? She is to be your wife.” You say, hoping he may come to his senses, as yours have fled from you completely.

“You will be my wife... for tonight.” A single tear drops from his eye as the words leave his lips.

It is such a beautiful, harrowing sight. One that leads you to shedding tears of your own. Aemond’s hands grip you by the waist, hoisting you up just enough for you to straddle him. Your knees rest on both sides of his legs, trapping him between your thighs. A wave of heat runs through your veins as your bare cunt presses against his clothed bulge. He leans forward, capturing your gasp with his mouth. One of your hands cups his face while the other pushes his hair away from his face. 

The two of you shared passionate, frantic kisses. You had not been prepared from when Aemond’s tongue slid into your mouth. You whine, caught off guard, but do your best to follow along with him. You had no experience with such things. The only kisses you had ever experienced came from tall, handsome knights in your dreams. But even then, those kisses were nothing like this. They were short and sweet. A quick peck on the cheek or lips, but this was much different. Aemond kissed you with such urgency, such deep burning desire.

Aemond lifts his hips, pressing himself against you. The feeling of his hard cock pressing against your aching cunt makes you cry out, though your noises are muffled against his lips. The feeling is so foreign, yet exciting, that you can’t stop yourself from reaching down to palm him through his trousers. His hardened cock is thick and throbbing beneath your touch. A newfound confidence blooms in your chest.

A sound rumbled in his chest; his large hands gripped your ample hips. Your hands moved to grip his shoulders as you rocked yourself back and forth, your bare cunt grinding against his clothed bulge. He hissed, knitting his brows together. You watch as his face contorts into one of pleasure. Your own burning desire is growing too much. Your desperate, heavy breaths fill the air as you grind yourself against him even faster, desperate to reach your peak. He looked up at you; his mouth hung open slightly as he watched you use him for your own selfish gratification.

It’s exhilarating- him watching you- seeing you in a way no other ever has, touching you in a way no other ever has.

“You’re doing so good,” he praises.

His praise sends another wave of pleasure coursing through your veins. The room suddenly feels unbearably hot. You’re so close; you can feel it. The pressure building up in your stomach is eager to be released. You roll your hips even faster, harder. But it is not enough. The throbbing in your cunt is almost painful. You are nearly sobbing at this point.

“I want more,” you whine. “I need more. Please, brother.”

“I am at your mercy, sister,” he smirks. “Take what you want.”

You reach down, huffing as you struggle to untie the laces of his trousers. You can feel his chest vibrate against you as he chuckles.

“Don’t laugh at me,” you grumble.

“My apologizes-” he shudders as your hand wraps around his thick cock. Finally freeing him from the confines of his trousers.

A triumphant smile crosses your face. You give his cock a few strokes, admiring the way it stands so prettily for you, so thick and full. Suddenly, you begin to fear the thought of having to fit it inside of you. Aemond seems to sense your worry. His hand cups the back of your neck, making you look at him.

“Take it slow,” he warns.

You nod, lifting yourself on your knees a bit. Your wetness coats your fingers and his cock as you press the tip into your aching cunt. You whine as the head breaches your walls, and you clamp tightly around him. The stretch is a bit uncomfortable but not painful. You may be a maiden, but you still had desires. Many nights, you have had to satiate your hunger with your fingers.

You lower yourself on him slowly. Thankfully, your wetness makes it easier to take him. You take a deep breath as you take him to the hilt. It takes you a moment to adjust to his size. 

“Are you okay?” Aemond asked, his voice filled with genuine concern.

“Yes, I just ... need a moment,” you breathlessly laugh as he lifts a hand to trail his fingers against your jaw.

He nods, raising his chin to kiss gently against the corner of your mouth. You turn your head, pressing your lips to his. A soft tongue gently licks at the swell of your bottom lip, and you grant him entry. The gentleness comes to an end. He licks into you with a fervor that steals your breath away. Your thoughts fade, and you melt into his arms. 

Aemond kisses you like he wants to devour you, and you want nothing more. You lift your hips before lowering yourself. Aemond finally breaks the kiss, and his hands move to your waist.

“Ah-h,” he whines against the corner of your lips.

You begin to move slowly, easing yourself into up and down on his cock. Your eyes never leave him, watching as he presses his head to the back of the chair. His chest moves with his deep breaths, his eye is closed, and his mouth is partially open. He shudders, and a desperate, eager moan emits from his throat. It is a sight to behold.

He lifts his hips, pressing deeper into you, making you cry out.

“Aemond!” You whimper, fingernails digging into his shoulder blades.

His eye fluttered open as he watched you struggle to find the right pace. He gripped your waist tighter, his fingers digging into your fleshy sides. He guided you, raising you up and down on him. The newfound pace made you mewl pathetically, but you were too desperate to reach your peak to care. He called out your name. It sounded almost sinful coming from his lips. 

You drop your head, resting it against his. Your mouth hangs open as you gasp and moan. The faint scent of pine and smoke fills your nose. It’s him, his scent. The smell is almost intoxicating. Your mind is swimming, dizzy from the pleasure of him bucking up into you.

You feel one of his palms cup the back of your neck, pulling you closer. He lifts his chin, closing the small distance between you pressing his lips to yours. You try your best to follow the frantic rhythm he sets. He swallows every sound you make as he holds the back of your neck, refusing to let you pull away—not that you want to. 

Aemond plants his feet on the ground for leverage as he pumps into you. His thrusts are more erratic now as he approaches his end. The air in your lungs is incinerated, and a shameful, high-pitched moan escapes from your lips. You move your hips, rocking against him, dangerously close to finally reaching your peak. 

He doesn’t stop, bucking into you with a force that would be strong enough to toss you off of him if not for the hand holding onto your waist. Your hot cunt clenched around him, the muscles in your legs burned from remaining in this position for so long. 

It’s not fair- how good he is at this- how good he is making you feel. It’s all too much. Your poor wet cunt is overwhelmed with pleasure. The hand on your neck moves down, and the pad of his thumb rubs circles around that sensitive button between your legs. 

“That's it,” he coaxed, his hot breath fans on your mouth. “Let go, give it to me.”

You don’t stand a chance. Not when his cock makes you feel so full, reaching that one spot that makes you throw your head back. One of your hands tangles in his hair, tugging. Your chests’ are flushed against each other as you both rock against each other. You clench around his cock as you finally reach your release, hard and blinding. The world around you seems to disappear. It’s only you and him who matter.

“Ha-ah ... ah,” he sputtered, becoming more desperate.

You cry out as you fill his hot mouth, which latches into one of your breasts. He suckles at your breast like a starving babe. His tongue lashes back and forth around your hardened nipple. The sensation is strange but has you clenching around him even tighter. 

His teeth graze against your nipple. Every grunt and moan that leaves him vibrates against your breast. You can feel his thrusts becoming sloppy and uncoordinated. His cock pulses inside of you, it feels too good. Aemond releases your nipple, resting his forehead on your breast. Choked gasps and grunts slip past his lips as he reaches his peak, releasing inside of you, filling you with his seed.

The two of you stay pressed against each other as you come down for your highs. Aemond’s hips relax, his body melting into the chair. Your body sinks into him, boneless and spent. You lay your head on his shoulder, resting your chin on his collarbone. His fingertips trail over the curve of your back. Your eyes feel heavy as you struggle to keep them open.

“I am sorry for what I’ve done,” he apologized.

“I know,” you reply weakly.

You can feel his warm breath against your ear. His scent, mixed with his sweat, fills your nose, bringing you comfort.

“Our sister has too much of our mother in her. I see that now.”

You frown but say nothing, letting him continue. His lips press against your ear. He nudges your face with his shoulder, making you pull away. He grasps your chin between his thumb and index fingers. Your eyes flicker between the sapphire and his violet iris. You lift a hand to trail your fingers along his sharp jaw.

“But you and I,” he says, rubbing his thumb over your bottom lip. “We are two flames kindled from the same fire. We were always meant to burn as one.”

“Aemond,” you sigh.

“I am afraid,” he admits, rendering you speechless. “I cannot fight this war alone, sister.”

“You are not alone,” you argued. “You have Daeron.”

“Tsk,” he turns his head. “He is still young, as is his dragon.”

“Young or not, Tessarion is still a dragon.”

Aemond says nothing. His eye stared at the plain stone wall of his bedchamber. You watch him silently, trying to read him.

“Come with me,” he asked, turning his head back to you. 

“What?” You gasp.

“Mount your dragon and go with me to Harrenhal.”

“Mother would never allow it,” you shake your head.

“Our mother has made it clear that she does not hold our best interest at heart.”

“She means well,” you protested, trying to defend your mother, no matter how true his words seemed.

“If we do not fight, we will die. Rhaenyra may spare you and Helaena, but she will not be so merciful to the rest of us. She will have to take Aegon’s head, mine, and Daerons's as well. So long as our father has a living son, she will never be able to rule in peace.”

“You don’t know that-”

“I do,” he insisted. “Is that not what our mother has told us our entire lives?”

You blink, and memories of your childhood flood your mind. He was right. Over the years, your mother had repeatedly stressed the dangers that would follow should your sister ascend to the throne.

“Come with me,” he whispered.

Your eyes flickered from his trembling lips to his tear-filled eye. It was not an order but a plea. He was afraid and desperate for aid. You were afraid as well—you had been since Ser Criston placed that crown upon Aegon’s head. It has only been a few weeks, and already, your life has been turned completely upside down. 

You had no desire to fight this war. Many times, you have had to stop yourself from climbing on your dragon and leaving. But you could not abandon your family, just as you could not abandon Aemond now.

You nod your head. He smiled, a look of relief crossing his face. One of his hands finds yours, lacing your fingers together before bringing his lips to yours, giving you one last sweet and adoring kiss. Once he pulls away, you lay your head back down on his shoulder.

“Can I go to sleep now?” You mumble against his skin.

“Yes,” he lets out a breathy laugh. “You can sleep now.”

[starrylanex]

JEALOUSY, JEALOUSY

PAIRING - bucky barnes x reader

SUMMARY - bucky cant help but get jealous at stark’s party as he watches you interact with the others, because all he wants to do is kiss you then and there

WC - 1,1k

EXTRA - one use of y/n, bucky being jealous and overprotective, stark being a smartass,

NOTES - hi angels, if i made a patreon where i would update regularly with longer fics and answer your asks quicker, would anyone support me there too?

PS. - english isn’t my first language so if you see any grammar or spelling mistakes please don’t hesitate to point them out:))

—

the rhythmic pulse of music filled the opulent halls of stark tower, the vibrant lights casting kaleidoscopic patterns across the dance floor. tony stark's parties were legendary, a whirlwind of glamour, extravagance, and hedonism. yet amidst the glittering throng of guests, bucky barnes found himself feeling distinctly out of place.

clad in a sleek suit that hugged his muscular frame, bucky stood at the edge of the room, his steel-blue eyes scanning the crowd with a mix of wariness and apprehension. his grip tightened around the crystal tumbler in his hand as he watched the scene unfold before him.

amidst the sea of revelers, his gaze inevitably found its way to you, the object of his affection and the reason for his unease. you moved with effortless grace, your laughter ringing out like a melody amidst the voices.

bucky's heart clenched painfully in his chest as he watched you interact with the other guests, a swarm of admirers vying for your attention. he knew he had no right to feel this way—no claim over you—but the sight of other men hovering around you like vultures sent a surge of possessiveness coursing through his veins.

"hey there, buckaroo," a voice interrupted his thoughts, and bucky turned to see tony stark himself sauntering up to him, a knowing smirk playing on his lips.

"enjoying the party?" tony asked, his eyes twinkling with mischief and sipping on his own glass of champagne.

bucky forced a tight smile, the tension in his jaw betraying his true feelings. "yeah, it's a real blast," he replied tersely, his gaze flickering back to where you were standing across the room.

tony followed his line of sight and chuckled knowingly. "ah, i see. keeping an eye on y/n, are we?" he teased, nudging bucky playfully.

bucky bristled at the implication, his jaw clenching in frustration. "she's just a friend," he muttered through gritted teeth, though the words felt hollow even to his own ears.

tony raised an eyebrow, his expression one of mock disbelief. "right, just a friend," he echoed, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "tell me, barnes, do you always look at your friends like you want to devour them whole?"

bucky's cheeks flushed crimson at the implication, a surge of guilt mingling with the simmering jealousy in his chest. he opened his mouth to protest, but before he could utter a word, a commotion erupted across the room.

a group of boisterous guests had gathered around you, their laughter ringing out like a chorus of bells. bucky's heart plummeted as he watched a particularly persistent admirer step too close for comfort, his hand lingering on your lower back.

without a second thought, bucky was striding across the room, his jaw set in a steely resolve. he reached you in a matter of seconds, his presence looming over the other man like a thundercloud.

"is there a problem here?" bucky's voice was low and dangerous, a warning laced with thinly veiled menace. winter soldier coming through for a second.

the other man recoiled at the sudden intrusion, his eyes widening in surprise. "n-no, no problem at all," he stammered, taking a hasty step back.

bucky's gaze never wavered from yours as he gently took your hand in his, his touch warm and reassuring. "come on," he said softly, his voice a soothing balm amidst the chaos of the party. "let's get out of here."

you nodded wordlessly, your heart pounding in your chest as bucky led you away from the crowd, his protective presence a shield against the world outside.

as you slipped away into the quiet solitude of the night, the tangled web of jealousy and desire that had ensnared you both seemed to unravel, leaving only the fragile threads of something deeper—a connection that transcended words and boundaries, binding you together in ways neither of you could fully comprehend.

the cool night air greeted bucky and you as the two of you stepped out onto the balcony, the cacophony of the party fading into the distance behind you. bucky's grip on your hand remained firm but gentle, a silent reassurance in the darkness.

"i'm sorry," you murmured, breaking the tense silence that hung between them. "i didn't mean to cause a scene back there."

bucky shook his head, his expression softening as he turned to face you. "you didn't do anything wrong, angel," he replied earnestly, his thumb tracing soothing circles on the back of your hand. "i just couldn't stand seeing you surrounded by those assholes."

a soft smile tugged at the corners of your lips, gratitude warming your heart at his words. "thank you, bucky," you whispered, your voice barely above a whisper. "for always looking out for me.

bucky's heart skipped a beat at the sincerity in your eyes, a rush of warmth flooding his chest. "always," he vowed, his voice filled with quiet determination.

for a long moment, the two of you stood together in comfortable silence, the only sound the gentle rustle of the wind against the city skyline and faded music coming from the party. the weight of unspoken emotions hung heavy in the air.

then, without warning, something came over him, and bucky's hand cupped your cheek, his touch tender yet possessive as he leaned in closer, his lips hovering just inches from yours. time seemed to stand still as you gazed into each other's eyes, the world around you fading into obscurity.

he waited patiently for you to move away form him, to give him a sign that this wasn’t what you wanted, but you stayed still, waiting for him to finish what he started.

and then, with a soft exhale, bucky closed the distance between you two, his lips meeting yours in a gentle kiss that spoke of promises yet to be fulfilled. it was a moment of pure vulnerability, a silent confession of the feelings that had long simmered beneath the surface.

as you finally pulled away, not because you wanted to, but because you had to take a breath, the world seemed to shift on its axis, the weight of uncertainty replaced by a newfound sense of clarity. in each other's arms, the two of you found solace amidst the chaos, a beacon of light guiding them through the darkness.

"i don't ever want to lose you, precious," bucky whispered, his voice barely audible above the whisper of the wind.

you smiled softly, your heart overflowing with emotion as you pressed closer to him, seeking refuge in his embrace. "you won't," you promised, the words a vow etched in the depths of your soul. "i'm right here, bucky. Always. and i dont plan on going anywhere anytime soon."

and as you stood together beneath the starlit sky, your intertwined hands a symbol of the unbreakable bond that bound you two together, you knew that no matter what the future held, you would face it together, hand in hand, hearts entwined in a love that defied all odds.

[writersblockiskillingme]

Peace | Coriolanus Snow

Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x reader (fem!District12!Baird!reader)

Summary: Coriolanus Snow never thought that he would find peace, until he did.

Warning/s: Snow being in love, Snow being Snow, talk about death (reader is alive, don't worry), possible grammar and spelling mistakes

Author's note: Inspired by one and only Taylor Swift.

Our coming-of-age has come and gone

Suddenly the summer, it's clear

I never had the courage of my convictions

As long as danger is near

And it's just around the corner, darling

'Cause it lives in me

No, I could never give you peace

Coriolanus Snow could swear that the rustling of the grass beneath his shoes couldn't be louder as he walked in the Meadow.

However, even though he felt an odd irritation towards that, he felt good. He was finally able to get rid of his Peacekeeper white uniform which he replaced with a simple white shirt and some gray pants that he found. His dog tag was still hanging from around his neck. He forgot to take it off from all of the haste when he was trying to find you as fast as he possibly could once his shift ended for the day.

The wind was dancing gracefully across the leaves on the trees surrounding the always oh so peaceful Meadow just a little outside of the border of District 12.

District 12.

Coriolanus Snow was still a little bit doubtful when it came to the loser District.

He could remember his hated towards, well, everyone and everything when he found out that he was going to be deported for the Peacekeepers. He could still remember that empty feeling when he sat at, what seemed like, the most uncomfortable chair in the world as someone started to cut his blonde locks away.

He lost everything. Every hope for the better.

That is up until it was reported to him that he could chose any District in all of the Panem that he wished.

Coriolanus could've been deported to a nice, clean District like 1 or 2. Yet he chose the poorest District of all. The words "District 12" left his mouth without the second thought when the authorities asked him where he wanted to be deported. He didn't even speare one single thought as he said it.

He asked himself, why did he do it? The question wouldn't leave his mind. It haunted him every day. It clouded his ever racing mind.

Why did he do it?

Yet now, he finally spotted a figure sitting on a giant rock, playing the guitar while muttering the words as she tried to write yet another masterpiece that he was going to cherish forever.

Your hair was flowing around in the wind as your fingers graced the strings of your guitar that Coriolanus got for you from the Capitol.

He tried to stay as quiet as he possibly could. He didn't want this moment to end. He didn't want you to stop singing so he froze once he got close enough so he could listen to you for a bit.

Even the mockingjays on the trees seemed to quiet down as you played the guitar. They were soaking up every melody, every note that you decided to grace the word with.

"And it's just around the corner, darling

'Cause it lives in me"

Your melodic voice rang around the Meadow. So quiet yet so powerful. Graced with softness and pure care. He didn't deserve you. He knew that.

Suddenly nothing mattered anymore. The only thing that truly mattered was the fact that you were alive.

Every doubt he had racing, cursing, his mind vanished forevermore as he listened to you sing and play your guitar, when he saw you performing with the rest of the Covey, your family, the night after he got deported to 12.

Right now, nothing was more important to him than you. He didn't care about his deportation, about Dr. Gaul, about Highbottom.

Maybe he was clueless. Maybe it was his fault for letting himself feel vulnerable in this very moment in the Meadow outside of 12. Or maybe he was just young and dumb for finally letting his guard down... but he felt like there was hope for him at last. Because you were here. You were alive, and if he had to mess up his reputation and lose everything once more just so he could here the sweetest of melodies leaving your lips he was sure that he would do it.

"No, I could never give you peace"

But I'm a fire, and I'll keep your brittle heart warm

If your cascade ocean wave blues come

All these people think love's for show

But I would die for you in secret

The devil's in the details, but you got a friend in me

Would it be enough if I could never give you peace?

Coriolanus felt himself freeze completely.

His brain nor his body was working anymore as he watched the screen along with the rest of his classmates that were chosen to be mentors for this year's tributes in the Hunger Games.

The scene was tough to watch. He wanted to look away yet he found himself unable to do so.

No matter how hard he tried he couldn't rip his eyes away from the screen that showed reaping the tribute he was supposed to mentor.

A girl from District 12.

He felt uneasy the moment he found out who he was supposed to be mentoring, he felt like his hope was lost. His hope for winning the Plinth Prize and repearing his reputation was ruined. He was ruined.

But now, as he watched you step in after your name was called out, he felt unfamiliar feeling of pure warmth growing and spreading in his chest, consuming him completely. The feeling was unknown, it made him feel weak. Out of control. He hated it.

Yet, as Coriolanus watched your hair bounce as you stepped out of the crowd in the middle of the square, he felt like he would fight the devil himself just so he could make sure that you were safe, that you were going to get out of the arena alive.

He watched your expression and your posture. You were trying to appear as calm and unbothered as possible. You were successful in your attempt, but he saw right through it.

Perhaps it was because he found himself in the similar position as he watched you or perhaps he simply observed a bit too closely.

Whatever it was, it did not prepare Coriolanus Snow for what was about to happen.

°

Why am I here? What am I doing?

These are the questions Coriolanus asked himself as he unintentionally, yet at the same time quite intentionally, tried to seek some warmth from his red Academy's uniform in his pathetic attempts to warm himself up a bit in the middle of a very cold night on his way over to the zoo where you were forced to stay before the games started.

The food wrapped in a handkerchief that had his father's initials on it started to feel too heavy in the pocket of his uniform.

Feeling the cold shiver run down his spine he realized that it's not from cold or from the fear of the Peacekeepers blocking his way over to you in the middle of the night. No. It was something else. Something he was aware of, but couldn't yet admit it to himself.

He watched every step he took so as to not startle you in the cage of the zoo.

As he got closer, he realized that he saw a figure in the dark leaned against the bars of the zoo's cage.

It was you, of course. You were looking up at the sky as your hair slightly flew around in the light, cold night's breeze.

At first he thought that his plan to play star-crossed lovers was a dumb call. That it was bad. Mentor falling desperately, hopelessly in love with his tribute was just madness and quite a desperate attempt to draw some good public's attention to give you a shot at surviving in the arena was quite pitiful, truly. Where was his head at, at that moment? Who would ever fall for that nonsense?

But as he saw how the people thrived for a tragic pair of star-crossed lovers and as he realized that good citizens of the Capitol loved a good tragic story, he came to a conclusion that maybe all of this was actually worth it.

More importantly, as he called out your name quietly as to not startle you and alert other tributes he figured that it was a right call after all.

Especially when, even tho a part of him didn't want to, as he came over to you on the other side of the bars, gave you food that he smuggled from the Academy, wiped your long lost tear as it streamed down your beautiful cheek, as he soked in your beauty, admired your gentil kindness and finally as he kissed you like he needs you more than an oxygen that he has to breath over the empty space in the middle of the bars, he wasn't really pretending after all.

Yet when it was time for him to go home just so his absence doesn't go noticed by grandma'am and Tigris, he asked you one thing that was bothering him, eating him alive. One thing that caused him absolute despair from the moment he met you.

"Would it be enough if I could never give you peace?" He whispered in the darkness as he held his hand against your cheek like you were the most delicate rose.

Your integrity makes me seem small

You paint dreamscapes on the wall

I talk shit with my friends

It's like I'm wasting your honor

Coriolanus Snow was hurrying towars the room in the Capitol's Academy in which he will be able to monitor the games along with some of his classmates.

He had to stay at home to help his grandma'am much longer than the would've liked. He was in such a hurry that once he got to the door he literally pushed it open with full force.

He strolled down effortlessly over to his chair so he could look over you as he heard the voice of one and only Lucky Flickerman.

"Now that is an entrance I'm jealous of."

Coriolanus ignored him.

He sat down next to Sejanus Plinth as he reasted his head on his hand as soon as he did that, the look of pure stress overflow his features as his piercing blue eyes locked themselves on the screen watching you.

"I may be wrong." He heard the voice of Sejanus Plinth as he stared at the screen, not looking away. "But it seems to me that you actually, genuinely care about whether or not she makes it out alive."

Coriolanus felt himself freeze for a moment, but he quickly forced himself to gain his composure back.

"I don't-"

"Don't lie to me, Coryo."

He kept his mouth shut after that.

And you know that I'd swing with you for the fences

Sit with you in the trenches

Give you my wild, give you a child

Give you the silence that only comes when two people understand each other

Family that I chose, now that I see your brother as my brother

Is it enough?

Coriolanus Snow could still remember the feeling of slight cold breeze as he hoped off of the train in 12 for the first time ever.

His boots stepped right into mud and he closed his eyes for a moment in slight annoyance. What an amazing way to alive here and do the things he was ordered to do.

He gripped more tightly just in hope to gain more confidence that he could actually pull through with this.

He stepped forward, letting out a puf of breath to steady himself.

Just as he was about to step after the rest of the new recruits as the one who is last in line he heard something that he hoped he would hear again. A voice which belonged to the person for whom he decided to go to the poorest District, paying the last bit of money he owned.

"Coryo!" Your voice shouted and he turned around slowly, almost not believing that you're here.

You ran as fast as you could just to get to him as fast as possible.

Your hair was flying around as your ran, the back of your dress dragging itself after you. The lightness of your steps, the graceful way you carried yourself, your eyes, your lips, you.

You collided against him, throwing your hands around his neck as you gripped on his shoulders as tightly as you possibly could, afraid that he will disappear from your grasp once again.

You looked so out of place. You were like a finest, most beautiful rose of all, but that rose grew in the middle of the mud. It fascinated him.

He wrapped his arms around you instantly, gripping your body strongly yet at the same time gently as he brought you to his body even closer. You felt like if he pulled you any closer the two of you would become one person.

He hid his face into your neck, breathing in your flowery scent. It smelled like home. Home which he was forcefully ripped away from, but now he was finally able to return.

"How did you-? What-?" He stuttered, couldn't get the words out.

"Tigris told me you were about to become a Peacekeeper." You got out, still holding onto his arm, your gripp still tight, afraid of losing him again. "However, Sejanus told me that you would arrive to 12."

This took him a back a little.

"You spoke with Tigris?" He asked, his voice not hiding his utter, but non the less happy, shock.

"We wrote to each other." You answered with a smile. "She's amazing, truly."

He couldn't be happier at this moment, he was so happy that it scared him.

But maybe, as he watched your smile and took your hand into his, pressing your palms against each other, he realized that just maybe life in the poorest District won't be as bad as he was afraid.

But there's robbers to the east, clowns to the west

I'd give you my sunshine, give you my best

But the rain is always gonna come if you're standing with me

One thing was for sure, life after the games was not easy.

You would have nightmares. He didn't know about them, you wouldn't told him. That is up until the rest of your family met up with him on a picnic day.

You looked so tired, so pale, you weren't acting like your usual self. It scared him.

That's when Lucy Gray pulled him aside after she saw his worried gaze on you the entire day. What she told him ripped his heart and shattered every piece.

"She's screaming at night." Lucy Gray whispered just so you wouldn't catch them, not that you could, you were so tired you were barely awake. "She has nightmares about the arena."

When he later on confronted you about your nightmares just so he could help you somehow you broke down.

You told him that maybe it wasn't the best idea for him to be with her. You were sad a lot more often, the screaming because of nightmares and everything else haunted you.

Before you could say anything else, tho. He kissed you like he would die without you.

"You're safe with me." He mumbled against your lips. "We can have a future here together, that is if you will have me."

"Of course I will Coryo, but-"

"No but's, then, my love." He told you, taking the handkerchief out of nowhere as he wiped away your tears that continued to stream down your face.

"Here, away from every harm, away from the games... maybe I could finally give you peace."

Would it be enough if I could never give you peace?

Would it be enough if I could never give you peace?

->

->

->

TAGLIST:

@hellonheels-x @especiallythewomenandthechildren @prettyinsatiable @caroline-books @runningfrom2am @10ava01 @thecrowdedstreetin1944

[gorgeous777]

Sneaking Around, Severus Snape x Fem. Reader

Warning!: This is the first time I've written smut in a few years, so I apologize if it's not very good. And/or any spelling-grammar mistakes.

The following below includes fingering, p in v, somewhat rough sex, and mild degradation. Enjoy!

------------------------

Being around your husband discreetly wasn't exactly an easy feat. Upon his request, you've kept your marriage a secret from the student body. It left things between you private and mostly peaceful. Not that you minded the secrecy. The idea of students spreading unnecessary rumors about the subject didn't sound very appealing. But still, the whole ordeal had its cons. Being affectionate or more-than-professionaly-friendly was out of the question. Though knowing Severus, it was bound to be like that even if you two weren't hiding your marriage. Nonetheless, the way you smiled at him didn't go unnoticed by students. Nor did the occasional flirty comments you left his way.

It rose some suspicion, of course. Suspicion that remained unsolved for the moment. The most widely disliked professor and the nicest together? It didn't make any sense. Merlin forbid a pretty professor like Y/N fancy the dungeon bat that was Professor Snape. You'd overheard the whispers and small talk here and there, and it usually gave you a good chuckle or grin.

Though, like any other thing, it had pros too. Some that gave a thrill or twinge of excitement. Even if it was at the disposal of an agitated husband. Which is what got you where you were right now: sneaking around. Dinner in the Great Hall had ended no to long ago, and student curfew was now in place. Still, there were a few students here and there on their way to their common rooms. You shot them a few warm but awkward smiles as you walked past them. It got you some odd looks, but your focus was elsewhere. Thoughts of him plagued your mind throughout the day. Intimate thoughts. You tried to keep to under wraps, to be calm and not give into temptation. Key word; 'tried'. All the effort needed wasn't there. Being intimate on school grounds was something you normally avoided. The risk of getting caught was huge. Not to mention it put both your jobs in jeopardy. That and your pride. But, as of right now, the risk very much felt worth it.

It was the only thing you could think about throughout the day. During the breaks between classes when you saw him in passing. When you weren't actively teaching. During dinner at the high table when you sat side by side. Surely he couldn't blame you. The way your body felt was out of your control. Not like there was any other man who could satisfy you. Not like him. And so, after a few minutes of awkwardly shuffling about the castle, you found yourself in the dungeons. Frisson coiled through your body as you thought about what was going to happen. With a grin, you pushed the classroom door open. The sound of the heavy wooden door scrapping against the stone floor instantly made the man in the room snap his head in its direction from the shelf he stood broodingly at. A not-so-innocent smile tugged at your lips as your husband gave you a less than pleased look.

"Hello darling" You say while trying to sound like you were up to anything but no good. He quirked an eyebrow at you ever so slightly in suspicion, watching closely as you came into the room and shut the door behind yourself. "...To what do I owe the pleasure of this unannounced visit, Professor?" He finally spoke back after a moment of judgmental silence, his voice upholding its normal monotonic fervor.

A weak, unconvincing chuckle left your mouth as you walked over to him as casually as you could muster. "Oh, nothing. Just wanted to see you is all. Not so bad, right?" Severus' black orbs followed your movements, clearly not impressed. "Seeing as it has evaded me that I didn't marry a woman of sound mind, I will remind you of a previous discussion." In slow, cool steps he came closer to you. And closer. Until the backs of your legs hit the edge of a desk. "..We are to keep a professional air when at work. Is that understood, Y/N?" No response. You stared up at him with an orphic look in your eyes. He was so close you could feel his breath fanning softly against your face.

You swallow lightly, trying to find the words to respond. Though, it was hard, and a shaky exhale came out before anything verbal did. "I.." Your tongue darts out momentarily, wetting your lips. "Sorry." Is all you can muster. Your response was less than satisfactory, and his eyes slowly analyse your face. "Sorry?" He repeats in a slightly mocking tone. You nod your head in response, "Yes." A dry hum came from Severus at your weak confirmation. His lips pursed into a thin line with narrowing eyes. Suddenly, he dipped down and scooped you up in his arms bridal style. He'd made up his mind to something in which you where completely clueless. "Severus what are you-" "Silence." He interrupted.

A small huff of irritation came from you, but you complied with his command without any further protest. Still, that didn't stop the pout that formed on your face. He carries you back to his desk, gently placing you on the edge of it. When you went to open your mouth to speak again, he dipped a hand beneath your dress. Your eyes widen in disbelief and a red color spread across your face. "Tsk." He gives you a scolding look, the tips of his fingers pressing against your damp panties. "Pathetically eager, aren't we?" He said dryly as his fingers snaked beneath the moist fabric and touched your yearning flesh. A sough noise left your lips, earning another scowl from him. "If you had any semblance of self control, you'd do best to keep that pesky little mouth of yours shut." His voice came out like a cold hiss in your ear a he spoke. A stark contrast to his tender touching between your thighs.

Two fingers gently ran along the length of your sensitive flesh before they slowly dipped inside you. A small whimper crept from the back of your throat, and you tucked your face into the crook of his neck in attempt to muffle yourself. His thumb found your clit and circled it lightly as his fingers pumped in and out of you at an agonizingly slow pace. You let out a little whine of protest at his teasing, only for him to make no change. "C'mon Sev, please. Give me more than that.." You plead, getting an amused scoff from him before he responded. "Always the needy one" And with that, both hands came to your hips. They gently grip the waistband of your panties before slowly sliding them off your legs. Your eyes watch his every move intently; hungrily. He frees himself from the tight restraints of his trousers, already fully hard. You part your legs further, giving him room. One hand lifts your dress as his other moves to hold your hip.

"Keep. Quiet." That was the last thing Severus said before he slowly pushed into you. Your breath hitched at the feeling and you body felt like it just burst into flames. Finally. He rocked his hips in a gentle pace, giving you slow, deep strokes. You slid your hands beneath his arms and placed them on his shoulders blades, gripping at the fabric of his robes. He pulled back until it was just his tip in, then pushing all the way back in. It was good. But not the satisfaction you so desperately craved. His breathing grew heavy and his brow furrowed, mean while you felt more needy than you had all day. He was still teasing you. Cruel was the man you married. You buried your face into his neck and bit down on the skin that peeked out from the collar of his robes. He let out a small grunt, snapping his hips forward in retaliation.

A sharp whimper left your lips at the feeling. That was more like it. You bit down harder, trying to get more out of him. "Quit it, you little brat." He hissed through gritted teeth, his hips snapping forward once more. "Stop tormenting me then" You whine back, your words coming out a murmur against his skin. Suddenly he hooked his arms around your thighs and put your ankles over his shoulders. In the process your back fell flat against his desk. He shot a glare down at you as you looked up at him with wide eyes. At this angle, he was able to push deeper into you. His hips moved at a quicker, more rough pace. Tender moans and whimpers left your lips as your face contorted in pleasure. As if your noises weren't enough to give away what the two of you were doing, wet sounds emerged from your bodies joining together, over and over again. His facial expression was that of a sneer, though the look in his eyes was far from it. Heavily lidded and glazed over with lust.

A low moan of his own left his parted lips, his expression relaxing. So much for keeping quiet. A warm knot had since formed in your lower stomach. Growing hotter and tighter with each erratic thrust Severus gave into you. With every one your body rocked up and down against the desk, only adding to that knot. It was like you could feel every nerve in your body buzzing with pleasure. Tensing and curling on one another. Causing your body to tremble with the intense throbbing between your legs. If there was one thing Severus was good at, it was bringing you over the edge. Even at the disposal of his own release. He angled his hips slightly, then hitting that special spot inside you with each snap of his hips. A long, needy moan erupted from your throat. That knot pooling in your stomach grew tighter. Aching like a sore thumb. Pulsing in all the pleasure point throughout your body.

He could feel his own need starting to rise. His hands moved to your barren thighs and gripped them as gently as he could muster in his state. He needed to feel your skin. Warm and soft flesh beneath his large, rough hands. They knead the supple flesh of your legs, squeezing and massaging them. As if he were trying to make a distraction for himself but failing miserably. "I forget how utterly pathetic you can be," He chokes out with small grunts escaping in his speech "like a bratty child begging for punishment". He grits his teeth once more, feeling you begin to clench around him. Clamping down like a hot, slick vice. His words, though somewhat belittling, added to the delicious fever that plagued your body. His voice, deep, almost like a purr. The smooth, sultry tone he took. As if it were velvet or butter. Caressing your quivering core.

And then you finally reach your boiling point. Pure ecstasy rippled through you like a title wave. Crashing through your core a gushing out all over his length. He continued to thrust in and out of you through your release, prolonging your pleasure. Slowly, his movements came to a stop, and the sound between you two faded. Either of your breathing was labored and uneven. A weak whimper left you as he pulled out, leaving you with an empty feeling. He gently set your legs down, to which you slowly began to sit up, only for him to push you back down.

"Lay back down you silly woman, I'm not done with you yet."

[maretinelli]

MARANELLO

Dad!Lewis Hamilton X Mom!fem!reader

Summary: When Lewis needs to go to Italy for pre-season testing and on this trip decides to take Pietra, Marie and his wife to visit Maranello.

Words: 3.6K+

Warnings: Mentions of Italy, cute kids, Pietra jokes, mention of trivia, mention of Mercedes, and mention of a third child. (Who knows, right? Haha)

Author: English is not my first language, so apologies for any spelling, grammar and slang mistakes that may be in the story. This story is part of the universe A NON-SEPARATION because I loved this family and will be writing more. However, it can also be read separately.

Marie: 6 years — Pietra: 4 years

MASTERLIST

Things were better now. Lewis and Y/n had found a balance, they had reduced their workload, prioritizing more time together and with the girls, and that made everything lighter.

As promised, Lewis took his three girls to Maranello. The trip came in handy, as he was testing Ferrari's new car and would have to travel to Italy anyway.

The Italian winter greeted them with a biting cold, but the sky was clear and the sun tried to warm the city. They were already at the Ferrari factory, walking towards the entrance. The girls were beaming with excitement.

Marie, as always more reserved than her sister, surprised everyone with her excitement. She held her mother's hand tightly as she skipped along the path, her eyes shining at the opportunity to learn more about cars.

"And did you know, Mom?" Marie began, looking at Y/n expectantly. "That Schumacher's Ferrari F2004 was one of the most dominant cars in Formula One history? He won 15 races that season!"

Lewis and Y/n exchanged surprised looks.

"Wow! That's really amazing, Marie!" Y/n encouraged, smiling at her daughter, who, a little shy, smiled back.

Lewis chuckled softly, placing his hand on his daughter's head. "You can work as my engineer when you grow up, you know? I think I'll need someone smart like that on my team."

Marie and Y/n laughed together, while Pietra, on her father's lap, remained oblivious to the conversation. Unlike her sister, she wasn't as interested in car curiosities. His eyes were fixed on his father's neck, where his small, warm hands glided over the skin.

Lewis soon realized where his daughter was playing and smiled. It was right over one of his tattoos—the one with his daughters' names on it.

"P...I...E...T...R...A" The girl spelled loudly, catching the attention of her mother and sister, who were walking beside them.

"Very good, P!" Lewis encouraged her. "And what do you think it says?"

The little girl frowned and then smiled proudly. "ROSCOE!"

The three immediately burst out laughing, Pietra looked at each one with that confident smile, thinking she had guessed the name that was written on the tattoo.

Lewis had to pull the youngest up so she wouldn't fall off his lap while still laughing. She was definitely the jokester of the family.

Marie, still laughing, poked her sister in the ribs. "No, P! It says PIETRA!"

The youngest opened her eyes wide and looked at her father in surprise. With a quick gesture, she placed both hands on his cheeks, making him turn his face towards her.

"OH! THAT'S MY NAME!"

Lewis let out a loving laugh. "Yes, that's your name. And right up here is your sister's name, too."

Pietra tilted her head, watching carefully. "But... where is Roscoe's name?"

There was general laughter again. Y/n shook her head in amusement. "Wow, I feel forgotten here. Doesn't my name count anymore?"

Lewis smiled and winked at her. "Of course it counts. But yours is on my chest, right next to my heart."

As soon as they reached the factory entrance, Lewis swiped his ID card, unlocking the door. His photo appeared on the monitor, and Pietra pointed at the screen in surprise.

"Dad! Ferrari is your fan! They put your picture there!"

Lewis chuckled, tilting his head slightly. “That’s just my name tag, little one. If it was Uncle Charles, it would have his picture on it.” He explained briefly.

Pietra nodded, understanding.

As soon as they entered, Lewis placed his daughter on the floor, and the two girls were fascinated by the surroundings. Marie observed everything carefully, absorbing every detail.

An engineer from Lewis soon appeared, greeting the family. Y/n gave an encouraging look to her daughters, who shook the man's hand in a shy but polite greeting.

"Well, Miss Hamilton. Your daddy told me that you were excited to see the Ferrari house, so I'll be your guide today through the factory and the museum." He explained kindly and the girls smiled excitedly.

Lewis and Y/n exchanged knowing looks when they saw the girls' excitement. Marie, always curious, began to ask the engineer questions as they walked ahead of her parents.

"That girl knows more about cars than he does," Lewis muttered, making Y/n chuckle softly.

"I think we should get her into college right away, so she can start working with you as soon as possible."

Lewis smiled proudly as he linked his fingers with his wife's and followed his daughters through the factory.

The girls wore winter clothes, matching in small details. Marie had a red bow in her hair, which held back her mother's straight locks. While Pietra had a red headband in her hair and defined curls, she had also decided to wear her favorite red boots.

She said it was to get in the mood of the team. Lewis and Y/n laughed when she made that statement before they left the house they rented for the trip.

As the engineer led them through the rooms, Marie asked questions with a twinkle in her eye.

"And these parts here?" She pointed to a table with different components displayed. "Are they part of the car's engine?"

The engineer raised his eyebrows, surprised by the intensity of the six-year-old girl's question. He looked at Lewis and Y/n with a smile before gently lowering himself to Marie's height.

"Excellent question! Some of these parts are for aerodynamics, helping the car gain more stability in curves, and others are part of the engine, ensuring more power. For example, this one here..."

He began to explain the differences, while Marie listened attentively, absorbing each piece of information as if she were in an engineers' meeting.

The guide never expected the tour to be more interesting for a child than for adults.

Further back, Lewis and Y/n watched the scene with pride, but also with amusement.

"This sounds like a conversation between two teammates" Y/n muttered, crossing her arms.

"And she could still be right about everything she's saying, which is even more impressive" Lewis added, chuckling softly.

It was then that he realized something. Or rather, he realized the lack of something.

Turning her head slightly, she saw Pietra standing a few steps behind them, staring at the ceiling with her mouth slightly open, completely uninterested in the pieces in front of her and her sister.

He held back a laugh and nudged his wife in the side. "Look at Pietra."

Y/n turned around and had to stop herself from laughing out loud. Pietra was still fascinated by the bright chandelier on the ceiling.

The little girl turned excitedly to her parents and pointed upward. "Look how it glows! Can we have one of those in our house?"

Lewis and Y/n exchanged an amused look.

"And this one is going to be an architect" Lewis joked, chuckling softly.

Y/n laughed too, as Pietra finally gave up on the chandelier and returned to her mother's side, holding her hand as they continued their tour.

Moving on to another room, they passed close to the area where the engineers worked directly with the parts for the Formula 1 cars. The guide looked at Marie with a smile and pointed.

"This is where you'll be working in a few years."

Marie smiled excitedly, and Lewis and Y/n shared a proud look. It was amazing to see the brilliant little minds they were creating.

As they walked down the hallway, an engineer from the Formula 1 team passed by them, patting Lewis on the back and waving to Y/n. Then his gaze fell on the girls, and he smiled.

"Ah, so you must be Mini Lewis 1." He pointed to Marie, who laughed softly. "And you, Mini Lewis 2." He pointed to Pietra.

Y/n and Lewis laughed. But Pietra narrowed her eyes, as if she were analyzing the man, and then extended her hand.

"I'm actually Pietra Hamilton"

The engineer held back his laughter at the cute gesture and shook her small hand. "Oh, nice to meet you then, Pietra Hamilton" He said amusedly.

After he said goodbye to the Hamilton family and walked back down the hall to work, Lewis chuckled and looked at Y/n.

"P is a member of the public." He joked, and Y/n laughed along.

When they reached a room filled with old overalls, trophies, helmets and medals from the drivers who had passed through the team, the engineer turned to Marie with a challenging smile.

"Okay, let's see how much you really know about Ferrari" He said. "What was the team's first Formula 1 title?"

Marie smiled and replied without hesitation: "It was in 1952."

The engineer's eyes widened and he let out a surprised laugh. "That girl is a genius!"

Lewis smiled proudly, placing one hand on Marie's back and the other on Pietra's as he guided them and they continued exploring the room together.

Further back, Y/n gave Lewis space to have a moment with the girls, but smiled at every funny comment from Pietra or every impressive curiosity from Marie.

Suddenly, she felt a hand on her shoulder and turned around, finding a familiar face.

"Angela!" She exclaimed, smiling and hugging Lewis's physical therapist. "I missed you!"

"Me too!" Angela laughed.

"But what are you doing here? I thought you were on vacation."

"I came to bring some documents about the start of the season for the team. Some things related to the training schedule, physical evaluations and adjustments to the pilots' preparation program." She says smiling, still with a hand on Y/n's shoulder.

She and Angela became great friends as soon as they met at Mercedes. The physiotherapist was a great friend of the family and adored the girls. Until then, when Y/n went into labor with Marie, and was in the garage watching Lewis race, the woman helped her calm down and accompanied her to the hospital. She stayed by her side until Lewis left the track and was able to stay by her wife's side while Marie was born.

The physiotherapist was definitely an important part of the family. And Y/n was more than happy to hear that she was back working with Lewis, now at Ferrari.

Angela then pointed to Lewis and the girls. "Looks like today is bring-your-daughters-to-work day."

Y/n laughed. "Lew has wanted to bring them to see the factory for a long time."

Angela smiled, watching the three interact. "Did you know that when Lewis first came here, he said he wanted his daughters to have memories here? He said he wanted them to have the Ferrari as part of their family history, just like the Mercedes was."

Y/n smiled lovingly, watching her husband and daughters from afar. While he laughed at something Pietra had said and Marie was leaning against him looking at the trophies.

Angela looked at the watch on her wrist and sighed. "But unfortunately...I have to go, I still have a flight to catch."

Y/n hugged her again. "We need to schedule a meeting to catch up."

"For sure!" Angela smiled and hugged Y/n too, before saying goodbye and leaving the room.

After leaving the trophy room, the guide took them to a gigantic space where several Ferrari cars were on display, from the first models to the most recent ones.

Marie gaped, putting her hand over her mouth as she looked at everything in awe and walked slowly, as if trying to process all the information her clever little brain had received at once.

Lewis leaned over to Y/n and smiled. "Look at that face. I think we just found Ferrari's new chief engineer."

Y/n smiles lovingly at her eldest daughter, her chest filling with affection. "You should make her your second pilot" She says to her husband and laughs.

The two walked hand in hand, watching the cars and the girls' smiles.

Pietra seemed a little more interested than before, but not to the point of asking questions. She enjoyed racing and traveling with her father, but the technical details were not her strong point. She left that part to her older sister.

Marie, on the other hand, recognized several cars and mentioned old drivers. "That's the car Niki Lauda won the 1975 title with!" She let out an excited squeal.

Lewis and Y/n exchanged an impressed look.

"I think she'll know more than I do soon" Lewis muttered.

While Marie explored everything, Pietra had fun in another way. Looking at all the aesthetics and colors of the cars. Saying that one was beautiful. No, wait! That one was prettier.

"Daddy, take a picture of me with this!" She asked several times, posing next to different cars. Y/n laughed at the poses the youngest made.

But then, in the center of the room, was one of Ferrari's newest models. Pietra looked at him with shining eyes and, without realizing that she couldn't climb, prepared to climb him.

Lewis quickly handed the phone to Y/n and laughed. "Whoa, whoa, young lady. You can't go up there."

He picked her up before she could climb into the show car. Pietra laughed.

"Oops! Sorry, Dad!"

Lewis laughed. "It's okay, little one. Just pay attention to the warning signs." He smiles. And he put her down again, and Pietra ran to Marie, who was still fascinated by the exhibition.

Y/n and Lewis looked at each other and smiled. "This day will stay in their memories forever" Y/n said.

While Marie was still watching the cars in fascination, listening attentively to the curiosities that the engineer explained, the door to the room opened and a relaxed voice caught everyone's attention.

"I hope you're not letting Lewis tell too many stories... He tends to exaggerate when he talks about cars."

Leclerc entered the room with an amused smile, his hair still a little messy from training. His joke got a few laughs and made Lewis roll his eyes, laughing along.

"Look who's talking, the guy who describes every curve as if it were a work of art" Lewis replied amusedly, going over to Charles for a side hug and a handshake.

Charles chuckled and then nodded politely at Y/n, who smiled in return.

The girls, curious, walked over to where their parents were talking. Pietra was the first to speak up.

"You're sweaty!" He said, wrinkling his nose, before shaking the pilot's hand.

Charles laughed. "That's what happens when you spend hours inside a race car."

Marie, more reserved, just waved and said a shy "Hi", receiving a friendly smile from Charles and a gentle greeting as well.

The pilot's gaze then fell on Pietra again, and he noticed the change in the girl's hairstyle.

"Wait a minute... what about your braids like your dad's?"

Pietra crossed her arms and pouted. "Mommy took them off for me. They hurt my head sometimes."

This made everyone laugh, and Y/n lightly ruffled her youngest daughter's curly hair.

Marie, always a little curious to see her father's teammate in racing gear, looked at Charles and asked, "Were you training just now?"

"Yes, I'm done with my training today," he replied kindly.

"How was the car?" Marie asked, her eyes shining with interest.

Charles was surprised by the question, but smiled excitedly. "Oh, he was good today! His balance has improved a lot since yesterday, so I was able to test out some fast laps."

"Did the balance change because of the rear wing or was it more because of the tire pressure?" Marie asked, frowning.

Charles blinked a few times in surprise.

"Wow, that's a great question!" He looked at Lewis. "This is your fault, isn't it?"

Lewis laughed proudly. "Her brain is working at a thousand miles an hour." He said, hugging his wife from the side and running his hand up and down her back, covered by a large coat.

"To answer your question, little Hamilton, it was a bit of both. We adjusted the wing for more stability in high-speed corners, but we also changed the calibration to improve traction coming out of corners."

Marie nodded, absorbing the explanation.

Meanwhile, Pietra pulled her mother's hand, making Y/n duck. "Mommy, why does he talk funny?" She whispers.

Y/n held back her laughter and replied softly, "Because he's not British like us, love. The accent changes depending on where the person was born."

Pietra nodded thoughtfully and went back to watching Charles as he talked to Marie.

After the brief interaction with the driver, the group moved on to another room, where there was a memorial to Niki Lauda. Marie looked around, her eyes shining with admiration.

"Daddy knew him, but I didn't..." She explained to the engineer who accompanied them on the tour. "But he seemed like a nice man, from the stories Daddy tells."

Lewis smiled, but his eyes were filled with emotion. The memory of Lauda always touched him deeply, even more so now that he knew that his daughter also admired the driver. Without saying anything, Y/n rested her head on her husband's shoulder and gently ran her hand down his back, offering comfort.

As Marie continued to gaze at the memorial, the engineer stepped away for a moment and soon returned with an old F1 steering wheel. He crouched down in front of the girls and smiled.

"Want to hold it? This one is an older model."

Marie carefully grabbed the steering wheel and immediately widened her eyes. "It's heavy, isn't it, Daddy?" She turned to Lewis, surprised by the weight of the object.

Lewis laughed and nodded, and crouched down beside her, patting his daughter's head.

As Marie examined the steering wheel with concentration, Pietra approached and asked with her innocent curiosity: "Where is the button to play music?"

Everyone burst out laughing, Lewis had to stand up and rest his head on his wife's shoulder to stifle the laughter he was holding back. Pietra was definitely the most spontaneous little person Lewis had ever seen in his life.

The engineer explained patiently, but smiling at the question. "F1 cars don't have radios for music, little Hamilton, only for talking to the team."

They continued the tour through a few more rooms. Pietra made funny and innocent comments, while Marie patiently corrected her sister and explained each thing. Even though she didn't fully understand, Pietra always nodded seriously, as if it were something very important.

Lewis and Y/n exchanged amused glances as they watched their daughters interact.

At the end of the tour, Ferrari had prepared a special surprise: mini red jumpsuits personalized with the girls' names.

Marie was delighted and clutched the jumpsuit to her chest. "Now I feel like part of the team!"

Pietra spun around with the jumpsuit in her hands before declaring, "I want a matching helmet!"

Lewis laughed and joked, "Hey, one step at a time, little grasshopper." Pietra laughed and spun around again, excited about the gift.

After the tour, Lewis thanked the team and their availability so he could bring his family to see the space where he worked outside of racing. They said goodbye to the engineer and chatted with some acquaintances who passed by the hallway as they walked.

And as they walked back to the car, Marie, who was holding her father's hand and bouncing excitedly, looked at Lewis.

"Dad, I want to live in Maranello when I grow up. I want to study Engineering and work at Ferrari!"

Y/n laughed when she heard this, while Pietra, on her mother's lap, played with the necklace carefreely.

Lewis sighed dramatically. "Oh my God, my daughter is only six years old and she already wants to leave home to study abroad!" He wiped away fake tears, making Marie laugh. "Please, slow down with that intelligence of yours, daughter. You haven't even reached high school and you already want to leave Daddy!"

Marie laughed. "I won't abandon you, Daddy. I love you so much."

Lewis was overcome with emotion and picked Marie up, spinning her around. The girl laughed loudly, full of joy. He hugged her tightly, feeling the immense love he had for his daughters and for the family he was building with the love of his life.

Meanwhile, Pietra, still playing with her mother's necklace, looked at her parents and mischievously declared: "I'm going to leave daddy to study abroad."

Lewis stopped abruptly and put his hand on his chest, feigning shock. While Marie laughed softly and Y/n looked at the scene with amusement in her eyes. "I raise you with love, affection and lots of strawberry ice cream and you treat me like this?!"

Y/n laughed along with the girls. Pietra turned around in her mother's lap, smiling at her father. "No, Daddy, I was joking. I'm not going to abandon you, nor Mommy, nor Marie."

Lewis sighed in relief. "Ah, that's great."

Pietra laughed and looked at her mother, who was shaking her head in amusement.

When they got to the car, Lewis and Y/n put their daughters on the floor so they could get in. Before opening the door, Lewis leaned close to his wife with a suggestive smile.

"I think I want a third mini Hamilton."

Y/n laughed, but felt her heart warm. Looking at her daughters, who were so full of life, and her husband, who was an incredible father and a wonderful partner, she knew that despite the challenges, they were building something special together. With love, patience and unity, their brilliant little minds would one day make a difference in the world.

Author: I'm going to make a masterlist with all the imagines I'm writing for this family, as soon as it's ready, I'll leave it on my Masterlist FORMULA 1