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heytheredelulu · 6 months

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Good Girl.

Bucky Barnes x Reader

18+

Word count: 1.2k

Content warnings: oral sex (m receiving), pet names, size kink (like one comment), daddy kink, saliva, fingering, cum play, praise, begging, dirty talk, degradation (calls reader a ‘slut’), dom!bucky/sub!reader, he gets kinda rough

I apologize in advance for this but this picture made me feral.

“Please.” You whimper.

You squirmed impatiently from where you kneeled, your cheek rested against one of Bucky’s thick thighs as he looked down at you with a smug smirk painted on his face.

“You’ll have to do better than that, baby girl.”

He runs his large hand through your hair, smoothing it back off your face. “C’mon angel, like you mean it.”

You huff, your breath ghosting across the dusting of dark hair along his thighs as you stare hungrily at his cock where it stood impossibly hard and merely inches from your face.

So close you could taste it.

But only if you begged him well enough.

“Please.” You whisper, tearing your focus away from his beautiful dick and glancing up at him with longing eyes. “Please let me suck your cock.”

The hand that was so tenderly caressing your hair just moments ago snatched a handful by the roots and drew you forward, dragging your face along his heavy sack.

“I said, like you mean it.” He repeated firmly.

“P-please daddy!” You whined. “Please let me suck your cock. I need it, please!”

He let out a breathy chuckle and released his grip on your hair, leaning back in his seat and stroking himself lazily. “Good girl.” He said in a low voice, tapping the weeping tip against your bottom lip.

“Open.”

Your jaw fell slack immediately and you barely had enough time to suck in a breath before his hand was in your hair again, twisting your locks around it. He pushed your head down firmly, the tip of his cock brushing against the back of your throat and triggering a gag that had you drawing back slightly on instinct. His grip on your hair tightened.

“No, you can take it baby.” He murmured, lifting a hand to stroke your cheek with his thumb. “I know it’s big, angel. But you’re my good girl, you can take all of my cock, can’t you?”

You hummed at his praise, and inhaled through your nose, relaxing your throat enough to allow yourself to take him to the base, his pubic hair brushing against the tip of your nose.

A low rumble of satisfaction rose up from his chest at your warm, wet mouth taking his cock so well. “There you go. I knew you could do it.” He crooned, pulling you back by your hair before forcing you back down again.

You hollow your cheeks, bobbing up and down rhythmically as your tongue slid across the underside of his shaft. His head falls back and his grip on your hair loosened as he let out a moan so sweet that your pussy began to ache with need. You curl your hand around the base, pulling off of him with a wet ‘pop’ before descending on his cockhead, swirling your tongue around it.

You pump him with your hand, his length slick with your saliva and tease his slit with the tip of your tongue, groaning at the taste of his salty precum.

His eyes are locked on you, committing your every move to memory and you can feel it. Your eyes flick up to meet his and you hold his gaze as you flatten your tongue and lick up the full length of him. The look on his face as he watches you has your wet cunt clenching around nothing, desperate for stimulation. His brows knitted, his lips parted as he draws in shaky breaths only serves to spur you on further and you descend on him again, clenching your thighs together in an attempt to soothe the needy throb between your legs.

The way you’re squirming on your knees isn’t lost on him and he grunts, reaching out to brush your hair back from your face.

“Touch yourself, angel.”

Your eyes snap up to look at him as you work your mouth on his cock and he tilts his head to the side. “I want to watch you touch your pretty pussy while I fuck your mouth.” He breathes out, carding his hands in your hair again. You moan in response, widening your stance and dipping your hand between your legs, slipping two fingers between your folds.

He assumes control now, bobbing your head up and down on his cock by your hair to allow you to focus on chasing your own pleasure while he uses your mouth to reach his.

You gather your slick and rub circles on your clit, your whole body nearly thrumming with sensation from how wet and desperate you already are. You moan loudly around his cock and he gasps, tipping his head back. “You’re so horny, aren’t you?” He asks, tightening his hold on you. “Sucking my cock probably has you soaked, doesn’t it? Fuck, you’re such a slut.” He groans, beginning to rock his hips in sync with how he’s moving your head.

You moan again and slip two fingers inside your cunt, pumping them in and out, curling them to try to hit that sweet spot. He holds your head still and fucks himself up into your mouth, working to match the pace at which you’re vigorously fingering yourself. He’s panting, thrusting erratically with his head resting against his shoulder as he watches you touch yourself. His cock hits the back of your throat over and over again, saliva pooling in your mouth as you gag and dribbling down your chin, making a slobbery mess all over his balls.

”You’re so perfect. You take my dick so well, baby.” He mumbles. You hum and fuck your fingers into your cunt faster, bringing your other hand down to massage your clit. “Fuck. I can hear how wet you are.” He groans, his biceps flexing as he keeps your head still, reveling in the soft squelching noise of you pumping your fingers into your pussy.

“I’m gonna come, baby.” He moans, his hips stuttering and his cock twitching against your tongue. “You don’t get to swallow until you come.” He warns, choking back a shout and pushing your face down to meet the base of his cock as it throbs and fills your mouth with his warm, salty cum. You release him and lean back on your heels, opening your mouth so he can see his pearly white seed on your tongue while your fingers work you towards your own orgasm. He leans forward with his elbows on his knees, his chest rising and falling as his breathing begins to steady in his afterglow.

The way he’s watching you is almost like a predator watching its prey. His eyes are hungry and his mouth is agape, his tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip. You feel that familiar sensation blooming low in your abdomen and you work your fingers faster on your clit, chasing the pleasure rising up your spine until it bursts and floods your entire body with white-hot euphoria.

“Swallow.” He commands, reaching out and cupping your jaw with his hand. Your mouth snaps shut and you swallow, the taste of him lingering on your tongue.

The corners of his mouth twitch up into a smirk and he leans down, pulling you into him and pressing a kiss to your temple. “Good girl.” He whispers against your ear, goosebumps crawling across your skin in response. “Such a fucking good girl.”

#bucky barnes #james barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfiction #dom!bucky #marvel smut #avengers smut #smutty fanfiction #bucky barnes oneshot

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brokenmenswhore · 3 months

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potions | regulus black

pairing: regulus black x fem!reader

summary: regulus invites his potions partner over to his family home to “help her practice”

warnings: DUBCON (MDNI 18+), choking, smut, rough sex

────── ☾ ──────

When Regulus invited you into his home to use his in-house potions lab, you were suspicious. Regulus always had a darkness to him, and as your potions partner, he was never cruel to you, but he wasn’t the type to make such a kind gesture.

You accepted, knowing you could really use the extra practice. Regulus was talented at potions, and you felt bad that you were barely any help in class. As strange as it may be, you figured some extra time would benefit you, and Regulus could teach you and thing or two, if he felt kind enough to do so.

“Come on in,” he said, gesturing you through the door.

You smiled as you followed him through the house, the lighting almost as dark as his all-black outfit.

“I keep my potions stuff in here,” he said, pushing open the door to his bedroom.

“In your bedroom?”

“Mhm,” he responded, completely nonchalant about the fact you were in his personal space, while you felt it was a little strange. You didn’t know him too well, though you were attracted to him, and now you were only a few feet away from his bed.

He walked over to the table. “You coming?”

You swallowed and approached him, looking at the large collection of jars and ingredients spread out on the table.

“Should we maybe let your parents know I’m here? That there’s someone else in the house?”

Regulus chuckled. “The only other person here is my brother.”

“Sirius is here?”

Regulus shot you a look. You and Sirius had a weird past- you hooked up a few times at parties, you caught feelings and he didn’t, and you never spoke again. It was all ancient history, but you still tried to avoid being around him at all costs.

“Why does it matter?” Regulus asked.

“It doesn’t,” you spoke in a small voice, drifting your attention to the table, “so? What first?”

“Figured we could maybe just make sure you’re set on ingredients,” Regulus said. Everything he said was so dry, low, and monotone, and it sometimes made conversation hard.

“I think I’m comfortable with the ingredients side of things,” you told him.

“You’re not.”

You furrowed your brow and looked at him. “Yes, I am.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Yes I am!” you fought, “I know my own skill levels, Regulus.”

“I don’t think you do.”

He was so nonchalant about everything, reorganizing ingredients and setting up potion recipes as he spoke, as if anything he said didn’t matter.

You sighed and gave up fighting it, letting him take control and decide where to go from here. There was no point in going back and forth on the same thing over and over again.

“How about we just start with Shrinking Solution?” Regulus asked.

“Fine by me,” you answered.

Regulus backed away from the table, watching you do nothing. You looked back at him. Did he expect you to just do it?

“Well?” he said, “make the potion.”

You sighed. Sometimes he was so annoying and condescending. You looked at the unlabeled recipe and removed 7 red rose petals from a case of singular petals.

You began to drop them one-by-one in the boiling water. You looked at Regulus, who nodded at you to keep going. “How difficult,” you said sarcastically.

Remus folded his arms in front of his chest, watching you carefully.

You added five drops of essence of violet, stirring counterclockwise exactly twelve times.

“I don’t remember shrinking solution having essence of violet,” you told Regulus.

“Are you claiming my recipes are wrong?”

“No, I’m just saying.” You sighed and continued with the recipe, counting out 4 cloves and prepping canary flight feathers.

He didn’t say a word, just watching you make the potion, until you had completed the instructions.

“I also don’t remember it being pink,” you pouted, looking confused at the pot.

“I could have sworn this potion had daisy roots somewhere-“

“Would you relax?” Regulus questioned.

“Something just feels off about it,” you said, inspecting the liquid.

“Does it smell right?” he asked.

You leaned in and sniffed. The potion smelt like lavender, vanilla, freshly cut grass, and all your favorite smells.

The smell maintained throughout the smoke that you breathed in, overtaking your senses and filling your lungs. “Fuck that smells good,” you giggled.

Regulus crept behind you as silently as he could. When you stood up, he was directly behind you, your back almost banging into his torso.

You spun around to meet his gaze. “Can I help you with something?” you asked.

“I don’t know, can you?”

Your eyes locked for a moment, and you were suddenly overtaken with adoration.

“I think I probably can,” you said, all logic going out the window as the potion took over your emotions, your focus completely on Regulus.

“Atta girl,” he tsked, gripping your waist as he looked down at you. “How you feelin’, pretty girl?”

You were overcome with intense emotion, but you fought to remain grounded in reality. “You motherfucker,” you said, letting Regulus know that you were aware he had you make the wrong potion. This was not Shrinking Solution, this was Amortentia.

“No idea what you’re referring to,” he said.

“You know,” you started, twirling his already wavy hair in your fingers, “you could have just asked if you wanted me.”

“Now could I?” he asked, intrigued and eager to hear you continue talking.

“Mhm.”

“I thought I wasn’t your type.”

“Why?”

“You slept with my brother, did you not?”

Your eyes widened a bit. “And you know that how?”

“He’s my brother,” he said, holding you closer to him, his tone finally lifting to a bit lighter of a place, “and I’ve been keeping tabs on you.”

You giggled. “Have not.”

“I have been,” he admitted, “had to make sure you weren’t fucking anyone who didn’t deserve you.”

“I haven’t been fucking anyone,” you told him honestly.

“I know.”

“You wanna know why?”

His gaze darkened.

You sighed, “the only person I’ve wanted to fuck is standing right in front of me.”

Regulus growled, gripping your waist even harder and pulling you even closer. “Then what did I do all this work for? Getting you over here, the Amortentia, you’re telling me I worked for it for nothing?”

“Maybe,” you giggled, amused at how much thought and planning went into getting you here. You weren’t obvious about your attraction to him, but it couldn’t be that hard to notice.

“I feel drunk on you,” you admitted.

Regulus smiled. You had never ever seen him smile before. You didn’t even know he was capable.

“You’re so pretty when you smile,” you said genuinely, a hand moving upward so you could run a thumb over his cheek.

He couldn’t help himself anymore, he crashed his lips onto yours. Your hand found it’s way to the back of his head, holding him closer. You whimpered into the kiss, desperation overtaking your body. You couldn’t help it, the scent of the potion was still filling the room, and you were consumed in Regulus.

“I want you,” you said in between kisses, eager to finally get what you wanted.

Regulus didn’t break the kiss or loosen his grip on your waist, but instead inched you closer and closer to the bed. You felt the back of your knees hit the mattress, and you jumped up, attempting to land on the mattress, but Regulus caught you, forcing you to wrap your legs around his waist.

He leaned over you, your back touching the mattress as you kept your legs around Regulus. He remained standing, the small of your back at the edge of the side of the bed.

Regulus finally broke the kiss, running his hands all over your body and inspecting every single inch of you. “I’m gonna make you scream so loud that Sirius will realize what he’s missing.”

You couldn’t help it, you started laughing. Your heightened emotions won, and the more you tried to stay quiet, the more hysterical your laugh became.

Regulus slapped your thigh. “What the fuck is so funny?”

“You.”

“Shut up,” Regulus demanded, kissing you to distract you from the hysterics in your brain. You melted back into him, forgetting why you were even laughing in the first place.

You were still having too much fun to let him win so easy, and you liked watching him work for it. “Make me.”

Regulus cocked his head to the side. “What did you just say?”

A giggle threatened to leave your lips. “I said make me.”

A hand suddenly squeezed around your throat, not completely cutting off your breath, but stopping your giggling.

Regulus flashed you a wicked smile. “That seemed to work, didn’t it?”

“Y-yes,” you squeaked out.

Regulus moved a hand in between your bodies, cupping your heat from on top of your underwear. You inhaled sharply, desperate for any sort of friction.

Regulus tucked his fingers into the band of your underwear, collecting your wetness with his middle finger as he traced it in between your folds. A sigh of pleasure escapes your lips, and Regulus watched your face intently.

You thought he was going to continue on like this, slowly working you up until you were ready for him, but Regulus had other ideas. Without warning, he shoved two long fingers inside of you, his palm resting on your clit and circling, as his fingers pumped in and out of you.

Your body responded, back arching off the bed, a hand still around your throat. You squirmed a bit, unable to stay still from the sensation.

Regulus watched your chest rise and fall as your back arched and fell, his cock hardening as he watched what he did to you.

He curled his fingers, hitting that gummy sweet spot within you, causing your walls to convulse around his fingers. “That’s it, pretty girl,” he cooed, “come for me.”

His words undid you, the coil of tension within you breaking as you came on his fingers, whines and whimpers constantly filling the room as you calmed down from your high. He pulled his fingers out of you, never breaking eye contact as he sucked your juices off of them.

Once his fingers were licked clean, he unwrapped your legs from his waist, removing his hand from your throat.

“Stay,” he commanded as he untied his pants, pushing them, along with his underwear, down enough to free his hard and swollen cock.

You let out an audible gasp at the size.

“What? Too much for you?”

“How-“ you didn’t even know what to say, “how is that gonna fit in me?”

“I think you’ll be fine, pretty girl.”

Regulus held his palm in front of your mouth. “Spit.”

You did as he said, and he used your spit to wet his cock, lining up his tip with your entrance.

“You want this?” he asked.

“Yes, Reg,” you replied.

Regulus almost showed you mercy when he heard the nickname, it just sounded so pretty coming from you, but he still didn’t. “Beg for it.”

You nodded your head no in protest.

A hand grabbed your face, pushing your lips out and positioning your head so that you had no choice but to look him in the eye. “Beg. For. It.”

“P-please, Regulus I n-“

Regulus slapped your cheek, hard. You gasped at the pain, almost stunned that he did such a thing.

“Use that pretty little nickname you called me.”

“Please, Reg, I need it, p-please-“

Regulus shoved his length into you, a moan of his name leaving your lips.

“Fuck, Y/N,” Regulus growled, setting a steady pace as he pumped in and out of you. He tugged at the bottom of your dress. “Off.”

You did your best to pull your dress off without interrupting his pace, struggling for a minute but eventually succeeding. Regulus leaned in and bit at your bra strap, snapping it back onto your body. He kisses the top of your breasts, shoving your nipples out of the cups, his tongue immediately sucking on one of them.

“Fuck!” you cried out, the pleasure of his mouth on your breasts and his cock splitting you open, and the scent of the potion still filled your nose, almost feeling like too much.

“Louder,” he demanded, serious when he said he would make you scream so loud that Sirius could hear you.

“Fuck, Reg!” you screamed at the top of your lungs, his pace quickening as you did so.

“Good girl,” he praised.

He sucked a sweet spot on your neck, your head rolling to the side to give him even more access.

He was slamming into you, the bed squeaking as your body rocked back and forth. Your legs were weak as they fell off the side of the bed, but Regulus didn’t want the position to change. He grabbed both of your legs, positioning them over his shoulders and fucking into you even deeper.

You squeaked and whined, not even capable of any genuine moans anymore.

“You gonna come again, huh? All over my cock?” Regulus gasped out.

“Mhm.”

“Words, pretty girl.”

“Y- yes!” you squealed, your high hitting you again as you squeezed his cock, a groan leaving Regulus’s mouth as he fucked you while you came, pace never faltering as you attempted to come down from your high.

Regulus was still chasing his own, his lips enveloping yours in a heated kiss as he snapped his hips as fast as he could until he came inside of you, erratic breaths and sighs spilling into the kiss.

“Fuck,” he said, running his fingers through his hair that was sweat slicked and falling in front of his face.

“God, I needed that,” you said, attempting to catch your breath as Regulus laid down next to you.

Regulus didn’t respond, he just stared at the ceiling, calming himself down.

“Reg?” you asked.

“Mhm?”

“You didn’t bring me here just to fuck me and piss your brother off, right?” you asked.

Regulus turned to you. “Do you think that low of me?”

“No. I’m just curious,” you explained.

“No, I didn’t bring you here to piss my brother off,” he answered, “it’s just a massive, massive plus.” He rolled over the placed a kiss on your lips.

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gagerestate · 2 years

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Website: https://www.gagerestate.com/

Address: Essex, United Kingdom

Phone: +44 1376 795592

WhatsApp : +44 07548 964 747

Located in Essex UK, Gager Estate was created out of a lifelong passion for growing flowers and produce.

Our main aim is to provide UK gardeners with the highest quality bulbs and bare-root plants. But most of all, to give back to the community in whatever way we can.

We grow produce to give to our local food banks and the flowers grown are given to the local community CM8.

QUALITY BULBS & BARE-ROOTS

We supply only the best quality bulbs & bare-roots to our customers.

WE LOVE OUR PLANET We use recyclable packaging & materials whenever we are able.

EXCELLENT CUSTOMER SERVICE

We are here to help you with all your queries, questions and advice.

Business Email: [email protected]

Business Email 2: [email protected]

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/GagerEstate

Twitter: https://twitter.com/gagerestate

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tonytomeo · 9 months

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Bare Root Begins As Christmas Ends

Bare root stock is exactly what it sounds like. Now that nurseries and garden centers are no longer selling Christmas trees, they have plenty of room for bare root stock. All sorts of deciduous fruit trees, a few deciduous shade trees, shrubs and vines, and even a few perennials can now be purchased while dormant and without the cumbersome media (soil) that the roots need at all other times of…

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fadedncity · 11 days

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wc: 1.6k (teaser)

pairing: jeno x fem!reader

cw: supernatural!au, werewolf(lycan)!jeno, vampire!reader, natural enemies to lovers/forbidden love type of situation, injuries, blood, full fic tags: smut, angst, mention of death and family loss, flirting, sexual tension, teasing, pet names, oral sex, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, way more plot than i expected, plus more

a/n: hey yall so i finished this fic a while ago and it’s just been sitting in my drafts and then i was kinda unsure whether i wanted to post it but i still might. so lmk what you think!

TUESDAY [3:31 AM]

Rain pours in sheets, pelting against your skin. Your footsteps are silent as you sprint through the underbrush, hot on the heels of the Lycan ahead of you.

Even with his head start, it took you no time to catch up to the him. Your pace matched his as you zeroed in on his steady breathing and rhythmic drum of his footfalls. Lycans are fast, and he hadn't even shifted forms yet. But still, you had no trouble keeping up with him.

All the while you closely trail the Lycan, you're cautious of your surroundings, keeping your ears peeled for any sign of a presence accompanying you both in these woods.

Just as you were about to fall in line with him, an unexpected sound sliced through the night—a whistle, followed by the unmistakable twang of a bowstring.

An arrow whizzed past your head, embedding itself in a tree trunk to your left. Stopping in your tracks, you tilt your head, seeing sparks and smoke emitting from the arrowhead now embedded into the old pine tree. But you aren't given any more time to investigate as you're tackled to the ground by the Lycan.

Before you could push him off, his body shields you from the explosion of blinding light so bright you could've sworn it was day for a split second.

He just saved you.

"Are you okay?" Jeno asks, rain dripping from the ends of his hair as he stands from the dirt.

"Yeah," you nod, hesitantly taking the hand he offers. "Thanks," you say, looking at the tree bark melting off the trunk.

The humans have UV explosives. Great.

Both you and Jeno hear the sound of cars approaching from the nearby road and take off running again. Without a word, you plunge deeper into the forest, your movements synchronized with Jeno's by necessity.

"How did they even find us?" Jeno asks, looking over his shoulder, his voice barely audible over the rain.

"I was just going to ask you the same thing."

The hunters were relentless, their shouts echoing in the distance, along with the pounding of their boots. You moved swiftly, navigating the maze of branches and roots with an ease born from decades of practice. The forest seemed to close in around you, the trees pressing in like silent sentinels bearing witness to your flight.

Then shots start firing off, the sharp cracks of bullets cutting through the air. It sounds like they were coming from every direction, the rain making it harder for both you and Jeno to locate where the hunters are.

A bullet soars past you and stops whistling in your ears when it hits flesh, tearing through skin and muscle. Jeno beside you roars out in pain and begins to slow down as the metallic taste of blood enters the air around you. You shoot him a look of concern over your shoulder.

"I'll be fine," he says. But when you see his hand pressed to his shoulder, blood seeping from an injury that should've already started healing, you know he's far from okay. "We need to get out of these woods," Jeno winces as he applies pressure to the gunshot wound.

"I know a place not too far from here," you tell him.

[6:37 AM]

The moon's silver glow was waning, giving way to the first light of dawn. The storm had passed, leaving the forest dank and muddy. Urgency rose as you were closing in on daybreak. You and Jeno raced through the forest, the scent of his blood and sweat mingling in the damp morning air.

Jeno's breath was labored, each step accompanied by a pained grunt as he pushed himself forward. The wound on his shoulder, though not fatal, was slowing him down.

"The sun's gonna be up soon," Jeno pants, his voice weary.

"I know," you raise your eyes to the sky, "But we're almost there."

As you ascend the mountain, you spot the entrance behind a thick curtain of ivy and moss. The camouflaged door was almost invisible against the rocky face.

The two of you approach the fortified door. But not before you start to feel the uncomfortable sensation of pins and needles all over your body, a warning of the daylight's deadly approach.

The air grows warmer with the first rays of sunlight piercing through the treetops, casting long shadows stretching like skeletal fingers across the ground, leaving you exposed. You scream out in pain just before you can reach the door, feeling the severe burns blistering across your body under the sun's relentless gaze.

Without hesitation, Jeno quickly removes his jacket and throws it around you, shielding you as best as he can from the searing sunlight.

You reach the door with trembling hands and enter the security code to unlock it. You hear the mechanism click and attempt to push the door open, but it remains stubbornly shut. The hinges, unused for so long, now rusted, obstruct your entry.

"It's stuck," panic edges your voice.

Using his good shoulder, Jeno presses his weight into the door, helping you push it open. The thick metal gives way with a heavy creak, welcoming you inside. The moment you both are through, Jeno slams the door shut behind him, enveloping you in the safety of darkness.

The flickering emergency lights cast long shadows across the walls, the only source of illumination along the steps down to the bunker. You can hear the sounds of the forest growing distant, muted, and distorted through the layers of earth and stone as you descend further down.

With the adrenaline from the chase already simmered down, the reality of your situation sets in. Here you are, a vampire, with Jeno, a lycan, forced into hiding together by humans hunting you both. The silence stretches between you, heavy with unspoken words only filled by the sounds of Jeno's steps behind you.

Your burns are already beginning to heal now that you're out of the sunlight. The cool, dim interior of the bunker feels like a sanctuary, the pain in your skin subsiding by the time you lead Jeno into a high-ceiling room.

"Thanks, again," you break the silence, returning his jacket. Even in the shadows, you can see Jeno's eyes examining your burns. "I'll heal," you assure him. "You, on the other hand, aren't for some reason."

"I'm fine," Jeno lies.

"You're not. You're still bleeding out. I can smell it."

Jeno stays silent, knowing there's no use in arguing with you.

"I'll go see if I can find the generator and a med kit or something," you say.

The underground facility is large enough to house an entire clan and well-equipped for emergencies. Or at least it had been once. The walls, thick and impenetrable, provide a sense of security, but the darkness within was oppressive, the silence deafening.

You move through the narrow corridors, blindly navigating yourself through the place. The emergency lights give off a faint glow, barely enough to see by. The bunker has an air of abandonment from years of sitting unused here. Cobwebs clung to the corners, and dust motes danced in the faint light.

You quickly locate the electrical room and, after a few tries, manage to get the generator running. The lights flicker on, and the air kicked on, ventilating the compound. As you make your way back down the corridor, you pass the uniform lockers, and just with your luck, you find a med kit sitting at the bottom of the cubby. You grab it and hurry back to where Jeno's waiting.

You find Jeno right where you left him; leaning against the wall, face pale and drawn, sweat glistening on his brow, damp clothes clinging to his defined muscles. From where he stands, the light casts deep shadows across his face, highlighting the strain etched into his features.

"Sit," you say, opening the case of medical supplies on the table.

"I can do it myself," Jeno mutters, though his voice lacks conviction as he weakly pushes himself away from the wall.

"You look like you can barely stand on your own. Just let me patch you up so you can at least stop bleeding all over the place," your words are punctuated by the snap of latex gloves you slip on.

Jeno has no energy to protest. He drops his jacket onto a chair and peels off his shirt, sitting on the table in front of you.

You don't have much time to ogle over the Lycan's chiseled physique as your eyes are drawn to the skin turning black and blue around the bullet's entry point. In all your years of existence, you've seen some pretty bad shit. But even this sight—Jeno's bloodied and seemingly infected shoulder, is enough to make even you wince.

"There's no exit, which is probably why you're not healing. Whatever specialized bullet hit you is still in there," you observe, examining the injury closely.

"Great," Jeno groans, throwing his head back. "Think you can get it out?"

"Sure, but it's not gonna be fun," you tell him.

"Let's just get it over with."

a/n: please lmk what you think! if i do post the full fic it is 11k so be weary 😭 thank you for reading! <33 feedback is appreciated!!

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a-lexia11 · 25 days

Text

Full of love (Out of love part 2)

Leah Williamson x reader (past)

Alexia Putellas x reader

Word count:3,4k

Summary: Y/N joins Barcelona and moves on from Leah, starting fresh with her new teammate, Alexia.

Part 1

I stood in front of the mirror, staring at my reflection as I adjusted my training jacket. Arsenal’s crest was stitched proudly on the chest, a symbol of everything this club had meant to me.

But now, that symbol felt more like a weight pressing down on my heart, reminding me of the past I was trying so desperately to move on from.

Every day I saw her—Leah. The woman who once held my heart so effortlessly, and now… now she was just a constant reminder of everything I’d lost.

It wasn’t her fault. She fell out of love, and in the four months after our breakup, I did everything I could to avoid her. I avoided all communication and took steps to ensure I wouldn’t run into her, desperate to move on.

However, the process of healing felt impossible when every practice and every match forced me to face reminders of her and our past.

Seeing her every day only deepened my struggle and made it harder to move forward.

Arsenal used to feel like home. But after the breakup, the halls felt colder, the pitch less welcoming. I couldn’t breathe here anymore.

Not with her around every corner, every locker room laugh a reminder that things would never be the same.

That’s when Barcelona came calling. At first, I didn’t even entertain the idea. Leaving Arsenal? It felt unthinkable.

But as the days went on, the idea started to take root in my mind. Maybe a fresh start was what I needed—somewhere far from the memories of what was and what could never be again.

As we gathered in the meeting room, Jonas finally signaled for me to speak. I rose from my chair, feeling the weight of the moment press down on me.

Facing my soon-to-be former teammates, I took a deep breath to calm my nerves. “I want to let you all know that I’ve decided to leave Arsenal and join Barcelona,” I began, my voice wavering despite my attempt to stay composed.

The room fell silent, and I could feel the intensity of their gazes on me, adding to my already heavy heart.

As I spoke, I couldn’t help but glance at Leah. Her expression was one of pure shock, her eyes wide and unblinking.

My heart sank seeing her reaction. I knew this news would be hard for her, but seeing her so stunned made it even more difficult.

Beth, one of the first to speak, broke the silence. “Are you really sure about this, Y/N? Barcelona is a huge change,” she said, concern evident in her voice.

“Yes,” I replied, my throat tightening. “I’ve thought about it a lot. I need a new challenge, and moving to Barcelona feels like the right step for me right now.”

Beth nodded slowly, and I felt a mix of relief and sadness as she stepped forward to hug me. “We’re going to miss you so much, but I understand,” she said softly.

One by one, my teammates approached, offering their hugs and words of support. It was comforting to see their understanding, but my heart ached every time I glanced back at Leah.

She remained still, her face a painful mask of disbelief and hurt. I could sense the weight of her silence, and it was harder to bear than any of the farewells I was receiving.

The room was filled with quiet exchanges, but Leah’s reaction was like a heavy shadow over the whole moment.

After exchanging heartfelt hugs and brief conversations with everyone, the room gradually emptied until Leah and I were left alone. I took a deep breath and walked over to her. “Leah,” I said softly, my voice barely above a whisper.

She looked up, her eyes meeting mine, and rose from her seat, moving closer. “Y/N, you can’t just leave. Arsenal is your home, your family. We’re your family,” she said, her voice trembling.

“I know,” I murmured. “But you need to understand that I can’t heal here. Not with you here and the memories of us everywhere I turn. It feels like a huge part of me vanished when we broke up. Arsenal no longer feels like home; something has fundamentally changed. I’m not happy here anymore, and I need to address that. I can’t just stay and be miserable.”

Tears welled up in Leah’s eyes, and she quickly blinked them away, her expression a mix of sadness and confusion. “Are you leaving because of me? We can still be close, even if we’re not together. I can still make you happy as a friend. You don’t have to leave.”

I reached across the table and gently took her hand, squeezing it reassuringly. “Staying friends will only complicate things for me, Leah. I want you to know that I will always care about you, but this is something I have to do for myself. I need to find a way to move forward.”

Leah nodded slowly, her voice barely audible. “I understand. But that doesn’t make it any easier.”

“It won’t be easy for me either,” I admitted, feeling a lump in my throat. “But I genuinely believe it’s the right choice.”

We stood in silence for a while, the weight of our shared history hanging between us like a dense fog. The moments we had shared, both the good and the painful, seemed to fill the space around us. Finally, Leah broke the silence with a sigh. “When are you leaving?”

“End of the season,” I said quietly. “I want to make sure I finish things here properly, give it the closure it deserves.”

Leah nodded, her eyes reflecting a mixture of resignation and sadness. “Okay. I suppose… I’ll see you on the pitch.”

As she leave the room, I felt a poignant blend of relief and sorrow. Leaving Arsenal was going to be incredibly challenging, but it was a necessary step for me. Deep down, I knew it was the first step toward rediscovering who I was and finding a new path forward.

——

Arriving in Barcelona was like stepping into another world. The sun, the colors, the energy of the city—it was everything London wasn’t.

Where London had been gray and heavy, Barcelona was vibrant and alive. I could feel the warmth seeping into my bones, thawing the parts of me that had been frozen for so long.

Keira Walsh, my longtime friend and teammate, was a lifesaver. From the moment I arrived, she made sure I felt welcome, dragging me out to explore the city, introducing me to all the best spots for tapas, and always being there with a supportive word when the homesickness hit.

She also offered me a wealth of advice on how to prepare for my move, including tips on learning Spanish and some key Catalan phrases.

She shared detailed insights about the Barcelona players, explaining their personalities, who among them speaks and understands English, and any other relevant information that might help me adjust.

Her guidance was incredibly helpful in navigating both the language and the dynamics of my new team.

Being here felt like a long-awaited breath of fresh air, as if I’d finally found a place where I truly belonged. It wasn’t just the environment that comforted me; it was the way I started to see myself again.

Slowly, I rediscovered the ability to love myself, something I had lost along the way. I began to value who I was, embracing my flaws and strengths with a renewed sense of appreciation.

This place didn’t just offer me a new perspective; it helped me rebuild my self-worth, allowing me to recognize how much I truly deserved.

There was also Alexia Putellas. I had played against her before, but knowing her as a teammate was a different experience entirely.

She was captivating—on and off the pitch. Confident, graceful, yet surprisingly down-to-earth. I found myself drawn to her in a way that both excited and scared me.

One day after training, as we were packing up to leave, Keira caught up with me, a mischievous glint in her eye. “So, Y/N, how are you settling in so far?Are you enjoying Barcelona”

“I’m good,” I replied, slinging my bag over my shoulder. “The city’s amazing. And the team… well, you guys have been great.”

Keira grinned. “And how about Alexia? You’ve been spending a lot of time with her.”

I rolled my eyes. “Keira, don’t start.”

“I’m just saying,” she teased, nudging me playfully. “She seems to like you. And you could use some fun.”

I sighed. “It’s not that simple. After everything with Leah… I’m not sure I’m ready for something new.”

Keira’s expression softened. “I get that. But Alexia isn’t Leah. She’s different. And maybe… maybe this is exactly what you need.”

Before I could respond, Alexia appeared beside us, flashing me that disarming smile of hers. "Hola, Y/N. Keira. What are you talking about?"

Keira grinned and said, “Oh, nothing really. Y/N was just telling me that she’s interested in trying out the new tapas restaurant that recently opened near your place. You know that place right? You told us about it the other day?”

I looked at Keira with a puzzled expression. We definitely were not talking about that restaurant at all, and her comment seemed to come out of nowhere. What is she up to?

“Oh yes, I know that restaurant!” Alexia said with a bright smile, turning to look at me. “"Es realmente bueno” (It’s really good)

Then Keira said, “I have a great idea. Why don’t you two go to that restaurant for dinner tonight? I have other plans, but Y/N could use some company.” Her grin was almost too wide, and it dawned on me what she was really trying to do.

I should have seen this coming,Keira is playing Cupid and is trying to set me up with Alexia.

Alexia raised an eyebrow, glancing at me. "Dinner is good. Do you want to, Y/N?"

I hesitated, my thoughts racing. But when I looked into Alexia’s beautiful hazel eyes, something inside me shifted. Perhaps Keira was right—maybe this was just what I needed.

“Sure,”I said, smiling back at her. “Dinner sounds great.”

——

Dinner with Alexia was… easy. Comfortable. We talked about everything—our careers, our families, our favorite places in the city. She made me laugh in a way I hadn’t in a long time, and for the first time since my breakup with Leah, I felt a sense of peace.

As we walked back to my apartment that night, the city lights reflecting off the cobblestone streets, Alexia turned to me, her eyes serious. “Y/N, I really enjoy spending time with you” she said softly “Sé que has pasado por mucho, pero… me gustaría conocerte mejor. Si tú quieres, claro”she continued in Spanish. (I know you’ve been through a lot, but… I’d like to get to know you better. If you want to,of course)

I spent countless hours learning Spanish, and even though I don’t speak it frequently, I can understand it well.

It was easy to grasp what Alexia was saying; her beautiful Spanish accent and soft voice made her particularly clear, unlike some of the other girls on the team.

Fortunately, Alexia was always there to help with translations.

I looked at her, feeling the warmth of her words settle over me. “I’d like that too," I admitted. "But I need to take things slow. I’m still figuring myself out.”

Alexia nodded, her smile gentle. “Of course. We’ll take it at your pace. Sin presión” (No pressure)

——

From that night on, things between us progressed naturally. We spent more and more time together, both on and off the pitch.

She showed me parts of Barcelona I hadn’t yet discovered, and in return, I found myself opening up to her in ways I hadn’t expected.

One evening, after a particularly intense match, Alexia invited me over for dinner at her place.

As we sat on her balcony, the city stretching out below us, she turned to me, her eyes searching mine.

“Y/N, sé que todavía estás sanando, pero quiero que sepas... estoy aquí para ti. Para lo que necesites.” (Y/N, I know you’re still healing, but I want you to know… I’m here for you. Whatever you need.)

I looked at her, feeling a swell of emotion in my chest. “Thank you, Alexia. That means a lot.”

She smiled, reaching out to take my hand. “No rush. No expectations. Just us, taking it one day at a time.”

In that moment, I realized that I was ready. Ready to let someone in again, ready to embrace the possibilities that life in Barcelona had to offer.

And with Alexia by my side, I knew that I was on the path to something new—something good.

After my breakup with Leah, I recalled my mom telling me that someday someone would be gentle and soft with my heart.

I think that day has finally arrived.

——

Months passed, and Barcelona truly became my home. I was thriving, both on and off the pitch, and my relationship with Alexia had grown into something deep and beautiful.

But then, Keira mentioned that Leah was coming to visit. The news sent a ripple of unease through me, but I tried to push it aside. I was happy now. I had moved on.

I haven’t spoken to or seen Leah since the small farewell party the team held for my departure to Barcelona.

Throughout the evening, Leah and I deliberately avoided each other, not exchanging a single word. We only said our goodbyes at the end of the party.

She gave me a brief pat on the shoulder and wished me good luck in a tone that was both distant and polite.

Since then, we haven’t communicated at all, and it’s been several months.

Leah arrived in Barcelona on a Friday, and Keira suggested we all meet up after our match that weekend.

She didn’t mention Leah’s visit much beyond that, and I appreciated her subtlety. I was nervous enough already.

That night, we all gathered at a cozy bar near the beach, the soft hum of Spanish guitar music filling the air as we celebrated our victory.

The place was packed with teammates, everyone in high spirits. I felt a warmth in my chest as I looked around the room—this was my new family.

Alexia was by my side, her arm draped casually around my shoulders as we chatted with a few of our teammates at the bar.

The comfort of her presence, the way she made me feel secure and valued, was something I hadn’t experienced in a long time.

But then, I saw her. Leah, standing by the door, scanning the room until her eyes landed on me.

Leah made her way over to where we are, and I felt Alexia’s arm tightened around me,pulling me closer.

“You’ll be okay, mi amor?” she whispered softly in my ear, her breath warm against my skin. I nodded and reassured her, “Yes, don’t worry.” With a comforting smile, Alexia pressed a gentle kiss to my forehead.

Then, with a subtle but supportive nod, she stepped back and walked over to join the others, giving us a much-needed moment of privacy.

“Y/N,” Leah said, her voice a little shaky but warm. “It’s good to see you.”

“You too, Leah,” I replied, trying to keep my tone light. “How’s London?”

“It’s… London,” she said with a small smile, though her eyes were distant. “How about you? Barcelona seems to suit you.”

“It really does,” I admitted. “I love it here. The city, the team… everything.”

Leah glanced around, taking in the lively atmosphere. “I can see why. It’s beautiful.”

There was a brief silence between us, and I could feel the unspoken tension lingering in the air. This was Leah—the woman who had been my world, and now, she was just a memory I was trying to move past.

But seeing her here, in this new chapter of my life, felt weird.

“So… Alexia?” Leah asked, her voice hesitant. “You two seem close.”

I glanced over at Alexia, who was chatting with Keira but still keeping an eye on me. I nodded. “Yeah, she’s my girlfriend.”

Leah’s face tightened ever so slightly, though she quickly forced a smile. “That’s… that’s great. I’m happy for you, Y/N. Really.”

“Thanks,” I said softly. “She’s… different. It feels right.”

Leah looked down,playing with her fingers “I’m glad you found someone who makes you happy.”

I wanted to say something comforting, something that would ease the sadness I could see in her eyes, but I didn’t know what.

We weren’t those people anymore—the ones who could heal each other’s wounds with just a few words.

“Um… how about you? Have you found someone?” I asked, my voice filled with curiosity.

“Um… not yet,” she responded quietly, almost in a whisper. “I’m trying to put myself out there again, but it’s been challenging.”

I nodded understandingly, offering a gentle smile to encourage her. “I’m confident you’ll find someone, Leah. You’re an incredible person, and anyone would be lucky to have you in their life,” I said, hoping my words would boost her spirits and provide some comfort.

As the conversation began to wane, I felt a soothing touch on my back. Turning around, I saw Alexia standing there, her expression tender with a soft smile.

She looked at me with warmth before shifting her attention to Leah, greeting her with a gentle and kind smile. The moment felt comforting, a subtle but meaningful gesture in the midst of our conversation.

“Leah, it was really good to see you,” I said, meaning it. “I hope you enjoy the rest of your time here.”

“Yeah,” Leah replied, her smile a bit forced but sincere. “It was good to see you too, Y/N”

I gave her a small wave before turning back to Alexia, who wrapped her arm around my waist again, pulling me close.

As we rejoined the conversation with our teammates, I felt Leah’s eyes on us, but I didn’t look back. This was my life now, and I was finally ready to embrace it fully.

——

As the night wore on, I found myself sitting on the balcony of Alexia’s apartment, the cool breeze carrying the scent of the sea.

Alexia joined me, handing me a glass of wine as she sat beside me, her presence grounding me in the moment.

“Estas bien” (You okay?) she asked softly, her eyes searching mine.

I nodded, taking a sip of the wine before speaking. “Yeah, I am. It was just… strange, seeing Leah again. It brought back a lot of memories.”

Alexia nodded, her hand resting gently on my knee. “Eso es comprensible. You two were together for a long time.” (That’s understandable)

“Yeah,” I said, staring out at the city lights twinkling in the distance. “But seeing her tonight made me realize something. I’m not that person anymore. I’ve changed, and so has she. And that’s okay. We both deserve to be happy, even if it’s not with each other.”

Alexia smiled, her eyes soft and full of understanding. “You’re right. And from what I’ve seen, you’re doing an amazing job of finding your happiness here.”

I turned to her, feeling a rush of affection. “That’s because of you, you know. You’ve made me feel… whole again.”

She leaned in, brushing her lips against mine in a tender kiss. “Y tú has hecho lo mismo por mí, bebé” (And you’ve done the same for me, baby.)

As we sat there together, wrapped in each other’s warmth, I realized that I had finally found what I had been searching for.

A new beginning, a new love, and a new sense of self. Barcelona had become my home, and with Alexia by my side, I knew that the future was bright.

And for the first time in a long time, I felt at peace.

Leah’s POV

FIN

#woso community #woso #woso soccer #woso appreciation #futfem #women’s football #woso x reader #fcb femení #leah williamson #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson imagines #awfc x reader #awfc #woso one shot

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urhoneycombwitch · 2 months

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Ok ok hear me out I have a different idea now after reading your phone sex blurb

What about after Eddie comes back from his tour they're out with friends and some other girl is chatting him up, trying to rub up on him in front of reader. And she wants to stake her claim but she can't because he's not hers, not technically; and he isn't into the other girl's attention because he just wants reader, but he can't be too earnest about that bc it'll scare her off.

Do I want them to grind on the dancefloor or have sex in the bathroom? Yeah maybe

foreword: more roommate!Eddie x reader filth. secret situationship fucking at a party style. ty anon <3

wc: 1.8k

cw: secret FWB, Reader with breasts + vagina, femme pet names used, fingering (R receiving), the return of Eddie Cums-In-His-Pants Munson, wee bit angsty, lots of hidden longing

____

This party is the most sound your apartment has ever heard- speakers thrumming bass lines through the floorboards, drunken friends’ laughter echoing off walls.

You and Eddie planned ahead, started plotting weeks ago to bribe various neighbors in the building to avoid catching a noise complaint- scratch brownies for the floor below, some pre-rolls handed off across the hall, party invites extended to whoever was in earshot.

Informal karaoke kicked off around midnight, as the room rose in heat from extra bodies and alcoholic flush; Robin and Steve are bringing down the house on the other side of the bathroom door, charming the crowd with a belligerently intoxicated rendition of a Beastie Boys hit.

Eddie’s got you pressed against the sink, your ass to the unforgiving marble of the counter while he teases his teeth over the skin of your neck.

“No marks,” you whisper, fist seizing up at the root of his hair, tugging. He stifles a moan into your skin while you continue to tell him off, voice just under the protective layer of music. “It’s bad enough there’s only one bathroom in this place. Someone’s bound to notice we’re both gone-”

Eddie suddenly drops to his knees, nosing at the strip of skin above your jeans that he lifts your shirt to reveal. Your breath stutters, and he grins before popping the button with his teeth, chocolate eyes eclipsed by the black-lust of his pupils.

“No one’s gonna hear you, ‘cuz you’re not gonna make a sound. Got it?”

The gush of arousal that meets Eddie’s fingers is invitation enough. You rock into his hand, and he angles his fingers up- you take two of them like a dream, as if your cunt had just been waiting to be filled by those long, dexterous digits, cold rings quickly warming to the skin-temperature of your thighs.

“That’s it,” Eddie mumbles, never more mouthy than when he’s face to face with his favorite pastime. And then, as if reading your mind- “Been waitin’ for me all night, hm? Poor thing. So wet…”

Outside, the song rises into a fast guitar solo bridge, quickening along with your breaths. Hoping there’s enough sound barrier, you brace yourself with one hand on the counter while the other buries itself into the heat of Eddie’s scalp.

Soft, dark curls slip between your knuckles, your thumb brushing gently under the layer of bangs to touch the bare skin of his forehead. It’s too tender, too endearing for what the moment calls, in direct contrast with the way Eddie’s plunging into you, the insistent, budging slope of his nose near the pounding apex of your thighs.

“Becca’s gonna notice.” Your thumb tracks a path to Eddie’s temple, so now you’re just cradling his head as he fingers you into oblivion. “You know- ah- Becca? The girl from down the hall that you invited, specially?”

If it wasn’t for the public setting, you’d take more time to calculate which buttons of Eddie’s to push; as it stands, you’re sort of flailing around in the dark, hitting random ones and seeing what lights up.

Seems to do the trick, though- in one fluid motion, Eddie shoves your jeans the rest of the way down and takes one of your knees over his shoulders, giving himself enough room between your legs to dip forward and latch onto on your clit.

His plush lips suck, fervently, in time with the rhythm of his curled fingers, managing to hit into that gummy spot that buckles your knees.

“Well Becca- isn’t- here, right now,” Eddie says, around lapping mouthfuls of you, hand on your hip near-bruising with the force it takes to keep you upright. “Besides, she invited herself.”

“I dunno… you seemed pretty excited to see her.” The muscles of your abdomen clench, then release, your head tipping backwards to thunk against the mirror.

There’s an arch in your spine, now, enough space for Eddie’s hand to migrate from your hip to low back, pulling you more insistently onto his tongue and fingers.

In response, the spot behind your navel tightens again, pleasure swelling with the music. It’s irritating that Eddie thinks you’ll drop the subject in favor of an orgasm, so you aim for another button, lashes fluttering at the ceiling, voice stretched thin as your resolve- “She gonna stay the night? Use the same bathroom you’ve finger-banged some other b-”

The wet, hot pressure on your clit disappears, a whine of protest crawling from your throat before Eddie can smother it with his palm. Luckily, the living room speakers are kind of shitty, crackling with feedback as the song reaches fever pitch volume.

Eddie’s fingers still within you, stretching to depths that make your eyes roll back as he rises to cover the length of your body with his own. His hand is big and warm over the lower half of your face, breath an angry huff by your ear as he growls, low- “It’s probably in your best interest to not finish that sentence.”

It’s some consolation that you have the option to bite. Tempting as that is, you let your glare speak for itself, brows knitting together as Eddie draws back to look at you.

There’s a bead of sweat running down the side of his jaw, disappearing into the curls he’s let loose for the night. The eyeliner you’d carefully applied for him pre-party is blurred from the humidity and exertion, a rosy flush in his cheeks to match.

Eddie crowds your vision, close enough for you to note the tiny freckle under his left eye twitch, and for a moment, everything is just him- all you can see, hear, touch, smell, dopamine flooding in a head spin of hormones that respond despite your best efforts to tamp them down.

The background noise fades away, and it’s just you and Eddie, panting and straining against the other. A squelch, as he adds a third finger, your breasts pushing into the solid expanse of his chest as you squirm up, mindlessly seeking release.

“Be good and come ‘fore this song is over,” he’s saying, thick fingers scissoring, your resounding moan stifled by his palm. “Then I’ll kick everyone out and let you come again.”

It’s the promise of another that undoes you, thighs shaking with the growing wave, lashes tickling Eddie’s knuckles as your eyes slam shut.

He keeps all the points of pressure that you need, plus more- hips pinning the frenetic rolls of your torso, tips of his fingers coaxing bright spasms from the channel of your cunt, forehead pressed like an anchor to your own as your body sings.

The whole time, he’s talking you through it, deep timbre just for your ears with rasping praise and encouragement. “Oh, fuck, sweetheart, that’s it. That’s it. Good. Let it all out. S’just me here, yeah? Just you and me. Fuck…”

By the time your hearing returns, Eddie’s dotting soothing kisses up the curve of your neck, apparently trusting you enough to let his hand drop from your mouth. You take a few deep, shuddering breaths, hand still buried in Eddie’s hair like a lifeline.

He doesn’t seem to mind, taking his sweet time pulling out of you, disentangling himself with lingering touches to any remaining bare skin.

While he tugs your shirt back into place, you turn to face the mirror, smoothing over flyaways and making sure you look somewhat presentable. You let Eddie’s hands roam as your heart rate stutters, working itself back down to normal while he refixes the button of your jeans.

His chin settles on your shoulder, arms twining around your middle; you let him take some of your weight, relaxing into his hold, eyes catching his in the mirror as you ask, quietly, “You want me to wingman for you? She seems nice. And it’s never a bad idea to sleep with someone who lives in your building.”

Eddie snorts, your dry attempt at a joke working wonders, grin on its way to devastating greeting your reflection. “You seriously think I’m the one who needs help? After the time I just showed ya?”

“Well based on my limited data-” your hips grind backwards without warning, and Eddie stiffens, smile slipping from his face as your own wicked grin takes over- “-I’d say you’re the one who came in his pants just from touching me.”

You wriggle in his arms to turn around, noses bumping, lips hovering in a not-quite-kiss as you whisper, “Say please and I’ll run and get you some new pants. Hand-delivered.”

Even with the wall of party noise, there’s a distinctive click as Eddie’s jaw ticks. He acquiesces, though, stopping somewhere just shy of grateful to grit out, “Please.”

You hum, pleased and thoughtful, leaning out of his space to lift a brow- “I think Becca’s into blue-collared boys.”

This fact, you’re basing off the one time you saw a UPS guy at your neighbor’s door. Sounds a lot better if you act like you know what you’re talking about, though, as if the list of things you know about Becca is longer than black hair and occasionally receives packages.

Distance, safety, one and the same, even though what your body begs for is to get closer, to soak all your senses in Eddie again. You wind a particularly pretty curl of his around your index finger. “Those khakis you wore once to Robin’s grad party and then never again- bottom drawer?”

When Eddie nods, he fixes you with a glare, nostrils flaring like he’s about to tell you off.

Before he can, though, you’ve wriggled from his grasp, reaching for the door handle with strict, hissy instructions about locking it after you’re gone and only opening for your special knock.

He obeys, deadbolt sliding into place, door swallowing the noise of the party in your absence.

It’s just Eddie now, leaning into hands over the sink, breathing hard like he hasn’t already blown a load three minutes ago.

The entire length of his middle fingers shimmer in the light, still coated with your arousal.

Eddie’s mouth waters. He thinks about you; how for a second, you were the only thing on his mind, how rare that is, for him to be so singularly focused.

Then he thinks about Becca. And stupid tight fucking dress pants.

The sink water gushes to a start as he jerks the handle on, sudsy hand soap scrubbing away at the smell of you, carrying it down the drain.

By the time you’re back, dreaded pants in hand, Eddie’s fixed an easy smile on his face, bickering at the ready. Almost normal, and certainly familiar.

It’s just simpler to keep some distance. Close quarters aside.

#lu’s anons #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson smut #roommate!eddie #roommate!eddie x reader #mdni #eddie munson x you

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r0ugesun · 2 months

Note

Hi I was wondering if i could request (pure smut) of Aemond going to the brothel to meet Sylvie and instead finding reader and continuously going back just to see the reader instead and then maybe when Aegon finds out and starts mocking him, reader defends Aemond and Aemond just walks away as if reader meant nothing to him even though he was inlove with reader?

Pls and thank you 🥺

Thank you so much for requesting forgive the delay I kept re writing to make sure it was what you wanted I hope you enjoy it <3

Aemond Targaryen x Brothel! Reader

Synopsis: Prince Aemond Targaryen seeks solace at the House of Kisses and encounters you, a captivating courtesan. A night of intense passion reveals his hidden vulnerabilities, leaving both of you grappling with unspoken desires and the lasting impact of your brief, powerful connection.

Aemond strode through the Silk Streets, his boots thudding rhythmically against the cobblestones, a steady thump echoing in the narrow alleys, his destination clear in his mind. The brothel was not a place he frequented often, but tonight was different. He had arranged to meet Sylvie, the madam, for an escape from the burdens that weighed heavily on his shoulders.

He entered the dimly lit corridors of the House of Kisses, his long cloak trailing behind him. The upscale brothel was a place of sinful indulgences and hidden desires, a sanctuary for those seeking pleasure in the arms of another. He had come to see Sylvie, the madam, for reasons he barely understood himself.

"Prince aemond" Sylvie purred as she approached him, her hips swaying provocatively.

“Come, I have something….special prepared for you."

as he entered the private chambers, he found not himself and the sultry proprietress alone, but you a young woman draped in silk, your eyes gleaming with a mixture of curiosity and confidence.

"Prince Aemond," you purred, reclining on the plush cushions with a grace that spoke of practiced allure. "Sylvie told me you might be in need of something… different. I know it’s not to your usual likings but I assure you, I can be of great service to you."

Aemond paused, his icy gaze sweeping over you. There was something different about you, something that stirred a flicker of interest within him. He had meant to leave, to dismiss you with a curt word, but found himself rooted to the spot.

"You are not what I expected" he said, his voice cold and measured. Sylvie only smirked and looked between you two.

"Disappointed?" you asked, a sensual smile playing on your lips as you rose to your feet, the silks clinging to your curves in a tantalizing display.

"Intrigued" he admitted, the word slipping out before he could stop it.

“I’ll leave leave him in your care then y/n, do tend to him properly”

You moved closer, your steps deliberate and confident. "Then stay a while, My Prince. Let me show you that there's more to life than duty and discipline."

"And what might that be?" he inquired, a skeptical eyebrow arching.

"Pleasure" you replied simply, your voice a seductive whisper. "A man like you needs more than just sex, I can do so much more."

Aemond's gaze lingered on you, the warmth of your proximity sending an unexpected shiver down his spine. "You speak as if you know me."

"I know enough" you said, your fingers lightly brushing against his arm. "Enough to see a prince burdened by expectations, hiding behind a mask of indifference."

"And you think you can see through that mask?" he asked, his tone both challenging and curious.

"I can see the man beneath it" you replied confidently, your eyes meeting his with unwavering intensity. "A man who craves more than what‘s been given to him, what he thinks he’s been denied."

"You're bold" he remarked, though there was no disdain in his voice.

"You appreciate boldness" you countered, your lips curving into a playful smile. "Otherwise, you wouldn't be here."

Aemond couldn't help the small smirk that tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Perhaps you're right."

"Let me show you how right I am," you said, stepping even closer, your breath warm against his skin. "Trust me, My prince. I can show you exactly what you need."

He hesitated, a war of thoughts playing out behind his eyes. But the allure of your confidence and the promise of something more something he had denied himself for so long proved too enticing to resist.

"Very well" he agreed, his voice softening.

You took his hand, guiding him to the plush seating area. "Tell me, Aemond," you began, your fingers deftly unfastening his cloak, "when was the last time you let yourself lose control?"

He watched you, captivated by your every movement. "It has been... a long time."

"Then let tonight be different" you whispered, your lips grazing his ear. "Let go of all your burdens and lets lose ourselves, together."

"And what makes you think I can do that?" he asked, his voice low, almost teasing.

"Because, deep down, you know you want to" you replied, a mischievous glint in your eyes. "Why else would you be here? So, tell me, my prince, what do you fear more: losing power or never gaining it?"

He regarded you with a mixture of admiration and wariness. "You play a dangerous game."

"Mm I do love to play" you said biting your lower lip. "And I believe you are a more than willing participant."

"You presume much," he said, though his tone lacked any real reproach.

"Do I?" you challenged, running a finger down his chest. "Or perhaps I'm just giving voice to what you already know to be true."

"indeed?" Aemond, catching your hand and holding it gently. "But there is more to me than you might think."

"And more to me than meets the eye." you replied with a smile. “Let’s unveil those layers together.”

You guided him to the bed, sitting him down, the silken sheets cool against his skin. As you began to unbutton his shirt, he caught your wrist, holding it firmly but gently. “Sylvie brought you for me….but you’re unlike all the others around here…” he murmured, his gaze intense.

"And you are unlike any man I usually service" you replied, leaning closer, your lips a breath away from his. “Let’s find out what occurs when two contrasting worlds collide.”

Aemond's breath hitched as you kissed him, the sensation a mix of softness and fire. He responded in kind, his hands moving to your hips, pulling you to straddle his lap. The kiss deepened, becoming a dance of tongues and lips, each trying to outdo the other in passion and intensity.

You pulled back slightly, your lips brushing his ear as you whispered softly, "Tell me, my prince, what can I give you? What do you desire?."

"You," he breathed, the word escaping his lips before he could stop it. "All of you."

"Then take me" you urged, your voice low and enticing. "Take what you think you deserve."

He needed no further encouragement, his hands moving to your bare back, peeling away what little cloth covered you to reveal the smooth, warm skin beneath. You moaned softly as his lips found your neck, his hands exploring every inch of you.

Aemond groaned when his lithe fingers found his way to your cunt, feeling your warmth and wetness. His touch was both gentle and demanding, sending shivers through your body. You gasped, arching into his hand, your own fingers digging into his shoulders as he teased and caressed you.

His breath was hot against your ear as he whispered, "such a wet cunt"

You rolled your hips on his fingers gasping, most men never bothered with your pleasure and if they did they were clumsy and left you unsatisfied, this was different, he was different.

A smile curled on your lips as you gazed darkly into his eye, “your fingers are skilled” you whispered teasingly. “But it’s not your fingers I truly ache for”

You shifted, pushing him back against the bed, stripping him of his clothes, your movements slow and deliberate. Aemonds eye widened and his lips parting slightly at the sight of you, he watched with a mix of lust and fascination as you undid the laces of his small clothes, freeing his throbbing cock.

Your hands caressed his chest soothingly, your nails scraping lightly over his skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake. “Look at you...you resemble a marble statue come to life, like a god in human flesh” you said in awe.

Aemond’s breath caught in his throat, and for a moment he looked almost vulnerable.

“They say Targaryens are closer to gods than men” you whispered.

“And what do you think?” His voice coming out more gentle than he intended.

“I think-” you guided his hands to your hips, you spread your knees further apart until your entrance was right above his cock. “If the gods truly look as divine as you, I’d spend my life begging for a glimpse of their glory”

Aemond groaned when you slowly lowered yourself onto him, moaning as you did, inch by inch, savoring his length and girth until you finally reached the base, you both sighed in pleasure.

You leaned forward until your lips almost grazed his “Tell me My Prince, are you going to take what’s rightfully yours?”

He groaned, gripping your hips tightly “yes, that and so much more”

Your lips curved into a smile, leaning back once again, you sat on the heels of your feet and began bouncing on his cock “A-ah fuck” he rasped out, the pleasure of your tight cunt overwhelming him. “Fuck just like that” he hissed.

You couldn’t help the moans that escaped your lips at the feeling of his throbbing cock inside of you, unlike the rehearsed moans you usually make for gold, this was no act. The thick head of his cock dragged deliciously against that sweet spot inside you.

“so big, feels so good inside of me my prince” you whimpered.

Aemonds moans grew louder, his hands gripping your hips even tighter as he tried to match your rhythm, the lewd sound of wet skin slapping against each other echoed around the room.

“You and this little wet cunt” he hissed, his voice dripping with lust. Catching you by surprise In one swift motion, flipped you over on your back, he lifted your thighs up and positioned you into a mating press.

His hips pistoning his cock into your cunt with a fervent urgency, each thrust stretching you to the fullest.

Aemonds breathes where heavy and ragged, his eye locked onto yours as if looking for a sign of feigned satisfaction. “Tell me” he demanded in between labored breaths, “tell me how much you want this”

You arched your back, meeting his thrusts with just as much desperation, with a wicked smile you moaned out “I want to feel your cock inside me all night, my prince, I’d even beg if it wasn’t so beneath me”

He growled, your little act of defiance sending pleasure straight to his cock head “what if I told you I could make you beg?” He teased.

“It’s usually the other way around for me, my prince” biting your lips as his thrusts grew harder. “But i would be more than happy to let you believe I would if you keep this up”

Aemonds eyes darkened with pure desire “you need not say anything your body is all the praise i need”

Your moans grew louder, you could feel your cunt clenching around his cock “I’m so fucking close” he said voice rough, all you could do is moan in response.

With a final, breathless cry, you reached your climax, the intense waves of pleasure crashing over you and pulling Aemond with you. His release followed moments later, his body shuddering as he came inside you, his grip loosening as he surrendered to the overwhelming sensation.

You both lay there, your labored breaths and chests heaving in unison. The room was filled with the afterglow of your passion, the once frantic rhythm now replaced by the slow, steady cadence of both your breaths.

Aemond's hand gently stroked your side, his touch tender and reassuring.

You turned your head to meet his gaze, a satisfied smile on your lips.

"That was quite the experience," you said softly, your voice carrying a hint of playful satisfaction.

Aemond's eye, still heavy with the remnants of his desire, softened as he looked at you.

his voice was low and filled with admiration. "I don't think I've ever felt like this before."

You traced a finger along his jawline, your touch light and teasing.

"You’re not what I was expecting when the madam told me about you" you replied with a smirk "but I’m not complaining."

He chuckled, his breath still uneven but his expression relaxed, pulling you closer. “I suppose I should take that as a compliment.”

“You’d be wise to,” you said, tracing your fingers lightly over his chest. “I’m usually not this generous.”

Aemond’s gaze softened, and he regarded you with a mix of amusement and admiration. “And here I thought I’d be lucky to impress you.”

“Oh, you’ve definitely impressed me,” you said, leaning in to kiss him softly. “Just remember, next time you might have to work a little harder to keep up.”

He smiled, his hand gently caressing your back. “That’s a challenge I’m looking forward to” he said with a grin.

Each night after that was a blur of passion and desire, each touch and kiss pushing you both to the edge and beyond. Aemond had never felt so alive, so free from the constraints of royal duty and expectation. With you, he could be himself, and that was a gift beyond measure.

As dawn approached, you lay entwined in each other's arms, the room filled with the scent of sex and sweat. Aemond traced patterns on your back with his fingertips, his mind awhirl with thoughts and emotions he had long suppressed.

"Why do you do this?" he asked suddenly, his voice breaking the comfortable silence.

"Do what?" you asked, your head resting on his chest.

"Live this life," he clarified. "A life where you give so much of yourself to others."

You sighed softly, your breath warm against his skin. "It’s not a life I chose for myself willingly. It’s hard But in giving, I also receive. I have bread and a roof over my head and I even have my fill of baubles and trinkets, that’s more than a women like me deserves.

"I think you are deserving of more than you realize" he remarked, a hint of tenderness in his tone.

"And you are kinder than you appear," you replied, lifting your head to meet his gaze. "There is much more to you, Aemond. More than you let on"

"And you think you understand me?" Aemond finished, his voice tinged with curiosity and vulnerability.

"I understand enough," you replied, your fingers tracing the scar over his sapphire eye. "Enough to see the man behind the mask."

From that night onward, Aemond found himself returning to the House of Kisses more often than he cared to admit. Each time, it was you who greeted him, your witty banter and sensual touch breaking through the walls he had built around his heart.

One evening, as you lay tangled in the sheets, your fingers tracing the lines of his face, Aegon burst into the room startling you both, he was reeking of wine. "Little brother," he slurred, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "You've become quite the regular here. ‘S unusual for you to indulge in another whore." He laughed crudely

“Did you tire of the hags old cunt, is that it??

Aemond's jaw tightened, but before he could respond, you sat up, your eyes flashing with defiance. "Prince Aegon," you said voice steady,

“If you’ve come to belittle and provoke, you’re not going to find what you’re looking for”

Aegon laughed, a harsh, mocking sound. "Defending him, are you? How sweet. But tell me, does he care for you as much as you care for him?"

Aemond stood, his expression a mask of indifference.

Aegon chuckled, his eyes filled with malice. "Don’t tell me that my dear brother has fallen for a common whore" he doubled over laughing.

Your temper flared, and you sprang from the bed, standing between the two brothers

“Aemond doesn’t come here to entertain your drunken taunts.”

Aegon raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "Touchy, aren't we? Tell me, how much coin does he pay you for your loyalty?"

You stepped closer to Aegon

"Enough, Now, leave this is a place of business." You said through gritted teeth.

“You’re right brother I shouldn’t keep coming….ive strayed far from my duties”

Aegon looked between you and Aemond, his amusement gone and replaced with boredom, he sighed and walked out.

the room fell silent. You turned to Aemond, who had remained silent throughout the exchange. His face was now a icy mask of stoicism

“Aemond…” you began.

Aemond’s gaze was unwavering, his voice as cold as ever.

“This is not the place for personal entanglements. My position… they come first.”

The hurt in your chest was sharp and immediate, but you fought to maintain your composure. “I see,” you said, forcing yourself to sound calm. “I understand Prince Aemond.”

the sting of his rejection burning deeply. But you didn’t let it show. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself against the pain.

You’ve been at the mercy of men with fragile egos in the past. Never again. Not with him.

you saw Aegon’s squires entering the room, their eyes full of youthful curiosity and a hint of mischief.

With a practiced sultry smile, you approached them. “Gentlemen, I see you’ve come to visit, is it your first time? I’m more than willing to accommodate your needs.”

The squires, clearly taken by your beauty, looked at each other with a mix of nervousness and eagerness. You offered them your services with a grace that belied the pain you felt inside, focusing on your work and pushing the hurt to the back of your mind.

“Prince Aemond, if our business is concluded could you make your way out please?”

Aemond watched the interaction helplessly, the tension between you palpable. Then, without a word, Aemond walked away, his footsteps echoing down the corridor, leaving you with the bitter taste of unspoken and unresolved longing.

You had defended him, shown him your heart, and yet he had walked away, as if you meant nothing. But in your heart, you knew the truth. You had touched a part of him that he kept hidden from the world, and no matter how much he tried to deny it, he loved you.

680 notes · View notes

perlelune · 9 months

Text

no body, no crime | Coriolanus Snow | v.

Your childhood friend returns from his exile in district 12, but he's not the sweet, quiet boy you once knew anymore.

Warnings: NON-CON, Plinth!Reader, Gaslighting, Drugging, Murder, Forced Marriage, Forced Pregnancy, Loss of Virginity, Somnophilia

This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.

𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

Grandma’am’s dissonant notes fill your room as you lie on the bed. The old woman’s wobbly soprano has been the background noise to your awakening this early morning.

At least it diverted you from your dire thoughts.

You rose with low spirits, defeated. You didn’t dare leave the cover of the warm blankets.

You’ve stared at the ceiling for so long, the flower patterns have morphed into smudges of pale color swirling in your vision. It’s all you did the entire morning. Stare at the ceiling while awful thoughts collide in your head. Perhaps for hours. You’re not sure. Time has been a foggy concept as of late.

You can’t even remember when everything started spinning out of control. The beginning of your unraveling.

The day before Coryo held you as you wept in his arms. For a while, in the warmth of his embrace, the uproar in your head fell silent.

Now it’s all noise again. Chaos. You have no desire to climb out of bed, face the day. Perhaps it makes you a bad guest. But hiding is easier. So it’s exactly what you elect to do.

Hiding until it becomes an impossibility.

Or until the door knocks in that case.

The sound startles you.

You don’t answer. Instead, you burrow yourself further beneath the sheets.

The knock starts again. Stubbornly, you ignore it.

“I’m coming in,” a familiar, airy voice announces.

The creaking of the door reaches you and your brows crumple. A slight weight plops on the mattress, making it dip under you. You freeze, willing yourself to remain still.

A delicate perfume hangs in the air. Guilt seeps through you. It’s not like she’s done anything to you. If anything, she’s been kind. It’s about the hot layer of shame that has grown thick roots into your being.

Her gentle lilt flutters above you.

“I won’t move until you talk to me; I’m worried.”

You gnaw on your lip. The seconds stretch to minutes, arduously long, seemingly endless as she remains on your bed. It dawns on you how deadly serious the older of the Snow cousins is. She will not go away until you speak to her.

Besides, your mother’s voice echoes somewhere in your head. Your behavior is ill-fitted for a lady. Here you are, a guest in someone else’s house, acting like a petulant child.

Though you balk at the prospect, it’s time to face the world.

You huff out a quiet sigh under your breath before peeking above the blanket.

“Tigris,” you mumble.

Her thin blonde brows are pinched.

“You missed breakfast,” she notes. She tilts her head, scrutinizing you as her frown deepens. “First dinner, now breakfast. It’s becoming a habit.”

Concern glimmers in her honey orbs. Your chest squeezes. The last thing you want is for someone else to feel terrible. You push the blanket further away from you, sitting up as a contrite smile tugs your lips.

“Sorry.”

Tigris’ slender fingers latch onto your forearm.

“Don’t apologize. Just keep me company today.”

You attempt to deflect, “What about Coryo?”

The blonde releases a deep exhale, crossing her arms in frustration. You’ve gazed upon a similar crease on Coriolanus’ face before.

“He barely has time for me these days. Between his work with Dr Gaul, the University and…” A small smile plays on her lips as her voice trails off. “You of course.” Your cheeks heat at her implication. Of course, you’re aware of Coriolanus’ dedication to showing up for you as of late. But it never occurred to you that it could impede on Tigris’ time with him. It saddens you.

From what you recall of the glimpses of them you caught growing up, there was a time the two Snow cousins were inseparable. After all, ever since they were young, Tigris has been everything to him. A mother, a sister, a best friend. It was clear on Coriolanus’ face too. Fondness was etched on his face whenever he looked at his cousin.

She leans over you, her tone pleading.

“Come on, I really need a friend, and something tells me you do too.”

Shoulders sagging in surrender, you concede, “I’ll get dressed.”

She leaps to her feet, a victorious smile breaking onto her face.

“I’ll have the maid bring you some food before we go,” she sings. “When’s the last time you ate anyways?”

You purse your lips, shocked at the realization of how long it’s been since your last meal, eating having toppled to the bottom of your list of priorities the last two days.

You give an honest reply.

“I…can’t remember.”

Concern scrunches Tigris’ angular features once more. She then takes her leave and you glumly get ready for the day.

Food is brought up to your room. You nibble down every bite of cheese, bread and eggs until you’re full.

You find the massive trunk Coriolanus had the staff carry up to your room. You marvel as you peer inside, rummaging in search of an outfit for the day. His thoughtfulness astounds you. You don’t deserve a friend like Coryo.

Once you’ve removed your night robe, it pools at your feet. Your stomach sinks at the sight of your bare form. Bruises still speckle your skin. They are starting to fade but the ones on your hips and thighs are still quite prominent. The thought of Coryo touching you this way crosses your mind and you shudder.

You know you shouldn’t feel this way.

It’s like your friend said. It’s better that it was him than some stranger with nefarious intentions. After all, you were both drunk. You both didn’t mean for it to happen. It’s obvious Coriolanus is as inconvenienced by this as you are.

You should move on, let the incident scatter amidst the unfortunate mistakes of youth. It’s what common sense dictates. Otherwise guilt will chew you to the bone.

But you can’t.

Every time you think of that night, you’re unsettled, an inkling of wrong humming through you.

It haunts you. Though you wished it didn’t.

The remainder of the morning is spent with Tigris. The two of you scour the city in search of various fabrics and items her boss, Fabricia Whatnot, asks her to collect.

It’s a nice change of scenery and you welcome it.

You even get to see Tigris work on a dress, a magnificent wedding gown whose sight stirs a bittersweet feeling within you. It reminds you that your own dress was ruined, a matter you’ve yet to solve.

…If there’ll even still be a wedding.

As the afternoon sun crests to a scorching peak in the bright blue sky, she offers to stop by a café which you readily accept. You both sit beneath a wide umbrella on the outdoor terrace.

You take small bites of your petit fours, the sugar melting on your tongue providing much needed comfort.

“Does your grandmother do this every morning?”

Tigris’ lips pause above the rim of her porcelain cup, her honey gaze widening at your question. Realization then lights up her face.

“Oh, the singing? Yes, almost.” A fond smile spreads onto her thin lips. “Grandma’am likes to reminisce about the glory days of our family, you know…before the war.”

Your brows furrow.

The glory days...

Could the days before the war truly be referred to as that? The people of the Districts were forced to serve the ever-growing needs of the Capitol citizens, reaping no benefits from their hard work and being kept docile by the perpetual threat of execution.

Exactly like now.

You hardly see the glory in that. Maybe for the victors, the ones who get to stand atop the mountain while others try to claw their way up from the bottom until their hands bleed.

But, as usual, you don’t voice your treasonous thoughts, simply nodding in response.

Tigris and you both relish the comfortable silence for a while. She doesn’t urge you to talk and you’re grateful for that. Idle talk is an arduous task when constant worries gnaw at your mind.

While she may not know the depth of your predicament, you appreciate that Tigris picks up enough not to prod.

“It’s nice here, isn’t it?” she says. “Quiet. I like to come here when I need a moment to myself.”

Your gaze roams across the luxurious garden near the café. You get lost in admiring the pretty flowers and the swan fountain. It reminds you of your own garden, your beloved roses, probably withering from neglect. You’ll need to tend to them soon.

“It’s beautiful,” you admit. You nibble on your bottom lip before your eyes find hers. “I’m sorry for being…difficult this morning.”

Tigris’ shoulders heave as she replies nonchalantly, “It’s quite alright.” Mirth sparkles in her amber orbs. “I’m sorry for dragging you all over Panem to run those errands.”

You give a small smile. “It’s fine. I enjoyed the distraction.”

You look down and fiddle with your napkin, arranging it in different positions several times in your lap.

“Is something the matter?”

Tigris’ abrupt inquiry makes your head snap up.

You hesitate beneath her compassionate stare. After a long, quiet minute, your shoulders slump.

“I just loathe that I am such a burden to you and Coryo,” you mumble.

Tigris tilts her head, genuine confusion scrunching her features. “A burden? Don’t be ridiculous. You could never be that to me...” Her slender hand reaches across the table to drape over yours. “And even less to Coryo.”

A wry chuckle leaves your lips. “Well, he’s got better things to do than taking care of me.”

She shakes her head.

“Taking care of you is a pleasure to my cousin.”

You wince. “I very much doubt that.”

Tigris’ head lowers, her hand rising to her mouth to dampen her chortle.

“What’s so funny?” you ask, frowning.

“It’s just…you really don’t see how much you’re changing him?” She studies you momentarily before heaving out a long exhale. “Can you keep a secret?”

“Of course,” you reply immediately. She smiles.

“I haven’t seen him focus on something other than his ambitions in so long…not the way he focuses on you.”

Your jaw hangs slack at her admission.

She pauses, seeming to mull over her next words. “Coryo…when he returned from his service in District 12, he was so different. I thought all the warmth in him was gone, that he was becoming like my uncle.” A distant, sad look dims her eyes. “A cold, calculated man. But when he’s around you…" Fondness illuminates her face while she gauges you. "I don’t know, it's almost like he’s back to his old self. The little boy I knew, sweet and caring. My little Coryo.”

Her fingers tighten around yours as she beams. “You’re good for him, so don’t worry about being a burden. It couldn’t be further from the truth.”

Tears of relief almost spill from your eyes at that but you swallow them.

Instead, you return her smile. It may have been at the behest of your dead brother but you couldn’t deny how comforting Coriolanus’ presence has been, his friendship the silver lining above somber clouds. Coryo is the only one who gladly listens when you talk about Sejanus and how much it aches that he’s not there anymore, his passing having left a void that can never be filled. It’s too painful for your mother and your dad’s in plain denial. If it weren’t for Coryo, grief would have eaten you alive, you’re certain of it.

It’s hard to picture your life without him in it now, in some form or another. In fact, you don’t think you even want to. You may have lost a brother but the gods were merciful and granted you another.

After you leave the café, you and Tigris take a leisurely stroll through the Capitol’s streets. The talk you had with her rejuvenated you. For the first time since that awful night at Clemensia’s, you feel a bit more like yourself.

All is well until someone strides out of a bakery, someone you know too well. The sight of the familiar face freezes you in your spot.

Your eyes then lock from across the street. You watch the recognition dawn on his face.

He starts making his way towards you.

A surge of panic bleeds inside you. You briskly grab Tigris’ hand.

“Let’s go,” you urge, already pulling her in the other direction.

“Wait…what?” Befuddled, Tigris lets you drag her along as you start racing through the streets.

You don’t dare look behind you, your heart thundering inside your chest.

You dive into a busy street. The crowd cloaks you as you zigzag between bodies. Strangers give you dirty looks but you don’t care, focused on running as far away from who you saw as you can.

You and Tigris end up in a narrow alleyway, catching your breaths behind a dumpster.

You shoot worried glances at the other end of the alleyway. You lost him, you realize. A strange blend of emotions fills you, every single one carving a larger hole inside your chest.

“Who was that?” Tigris asks between uneven breaths.

Shame swells within you as your gaze lands on the cobblestoned floor.

“My fiancé,” you reply.

“Hey.” Your head lifts from your knees, your eyes traveling to the blond head peeking through the slight opening of the door.

Concerned cobalt orbs study you. You avoid his scrutiny by focusing on a random spot on the bed sheets. He enters the room. As he sits at the edge of the bed, you bring your legs closer to your chest.

His soft tone breaks through your hazy train of thoughts. “Tigris told me what happened.”

You unleash a shaky breath before finally meeting his gaze.

“I’m a coward,” you say.

His hand rises to cradle your jaw, his thumb collecting an errant tear you didn’t even realize had spilled over. “You’re not a coward,” he assures.

Your lip wobbles. Of course you are. You saw William, your own fiancé, and ran away from him. Who does that? An idiot and a coward. But you didn’t know what else to do. You panicked. When his beautiful green eyes locked with yours, all you could think about was those same eyes filled with hate and betrayal if he ever learnt what you did.

“I am,” you affirm.

Coriolanus strokes the side of your face, his tone growing firmer, “It’s a tough situation…”

His sentence is halted by a loud banging downstairs.

Your eyes go wide.

“What’s that?”

The faint echo of your name being yelled from outside reaches you. Your heart leaps as Coryo’s features go taut, his jaw clenching.

His lips stretch in a tense smile.

“I'll go check. Stay here.”

“I’ll come.”

You jump from bed and make a beeline for the door. He tries to placate you by holding your shoulders, blocking the exit with his towering frame.

“Princess, I don’t think-”

You glower at him. You can’t run forever.

“You can’t stop me, Coryo.”

Tension hangs in the air for some minutes, thick and electric, before he relents with a deep sigh, “Alright.”

Heart in your throat, you take slow steps down the stairs. Coryo trails behind you in silence.

Your name’s uttered again, the door rattling as he bangs against it. You flinch.

Trembling feet drag to the front door. Your hand spreads over the wooden carving. You take a deep breath before hesitant words stumble out of you.

“William, you can’t be here.”

“I love you. Of course I should be here.”

Unwavering determination vibrates in his tone. Guilt flares within you. You swallow the impending rush of tears. You don’t deserve him. He’s good, kind, honest…and you’re a liar.

“I saw you with that girl, Snow’s cousin. Talk to me, baby, please.”

“I just need a little time...alone.”

“What? Is this about the wedding preparations? Is it your parents?” He sounds confused and hurt. Your heart wrenches. You’re hurting him. It’s exactly what you meant to avoid. “Whatever it is, we can fix it. We can face anything as long as we’re together.”

The desperation thickens in his voice.

“Come out. I just want to see your face, please.”

“I…”

Your fingers hover above the gold door knob. But your hand is snatched by long, stern digits before it can fully wrap around the handle. Coryo tugs you away from the door. You gasp as his deep voice resonates in the lobby.

“You need to leave her be. She told you she needs space, William,” he says.

“Snow!” A mirthless chuckle ripples from the other side. “I knew it had to be you somehow.” You leap as the hinges of the door shake as William’s fists slam against it once more. “What did you do to her?”

Tears well up in your eyes.

“Right now, it’s you that’s hurting her,” Coriolanus says, his fingers curling around yours. “What kind of husband-to-be doesn’t respect his future wife’s wishes?”

Your brows collide. You wish he didn’t speak like that. After all, you’re the one at fault. But fear keeps the words chained to your throat.

“I just need to see her, please,” William insists.

Your stomach lurches. This is insane. Your fiancé is on the other side of the door and you won’t let him see you.

Maybe William’s right. Maybe talking to him will fix everything.

You sniffle and wipe your tears. You take a solid stride towards the door again, fingers ready to open it.

“I think I should, just for a few minutes.”

Your decision is made but Coryo’s hand cinches around your wrist. This time his hold is much firmer, on the cusp of painful in fact.

You grimace as he draws you away from the door, near the stairs.

He bends over you to whisper hotly, “To tell him what, princess?” Angling your chin upward, he sighs. “That you gave me something you denied him all this time? After just a few drinks?” Heat nestles in your cheeks. It is true. Both you and him got near that point so often, but you were adamant about waiting for your wedding night. It was your excuse every time. You doubt he’d take it well if you told him what occurred. While you want to believe your relationship will survive it, Coriolanus’ words are tossing fuel on every insecurity within you. Your confidence wavers, your hand sagging in his hold.

Coriolanus’ intense blue gaze is hard on you as he continues, his raspy tone low and foreboding, “Or perhaps, you’ll make up a lie? You really think he won't see it on your face?” A contrite expression settles on his handsome features. “You wear your emotions on your sleeves. He’ll know right away.” His thumb sweeps over your cheek to wipe a lone, stray tear. “William seems like a good man, but such a betrayal…it’d break the two of you before you even began.” He leans closer, his lips ghosting over your earshell. “He will never forgive you.”

All hope shrivels inside you, the last remnants you still held onto crumbling to dust.

You almost made a mistake. Of course Coryo’s right.

“Do you trust me?”

You give a frantic nod, releasing a shuddering sob.

He smiles at your response.

“Then go upstairs,” he instructs. “I’ll talk to him, fix everything.”

Seeing you linger at the bottom of the stairs, longing gaze darting to the door, Coriolanus squeezes your hand in reassurance.

“Don’t worry, princess. I’m going to make sure you still get to have a wedding at the end of this.” His smile grows wide. “I promise you.”

You search his face. Confidence radiates from his expression, planting the belief that he’s right deep within you. You shouldn’t have doubted him. Coriolanus has gone to great lengths to help you. Even now, he’s protecting your future. It’s more than one should ask of a friend, yet he’s doing it for your sake.

“Thank you,” you say. His hand slackens around yours, a satisfied glint dancing in his cobalt gaze. You rush up the stairs, not daring to look back in fear you falter once more.

#dark!coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow #hunger games #coriolanus snow x reader #tbosas fanfiction #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #dark!coriolanus snow

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thef1diary · 4 months

Text

Baby Jr | Five

— Corked Confession

series masterlist

warnings: 18+ allusion to smut (barely)

pairing: carlos x fem!reader

wc: 2.2k

As the soft, golden hues of the evening sun filtered through the windows, casting long, dancing shadows across your living room, you found yourself perched nervously on the edge of your couch. You found yourself idly playing with the soft material of the cushions, tracing the intricate patterns repeatedly. With each twist and turn of the fabric, your mind wandered, flitting from one thought to the next like a restless butterfly.

The room was enveloped in a hushed stillness, broken only by the rhythmic ticking of the clock on the wall. Each tick felt like a heavy weight on your shoulders, amplifying the tension that hung in the air as you awaited Ava's arrival.

You shifted uneasily, the tension coiling in your stomach like a tightly wound spring. Unable to sit still any longer, you rose from the couch with a sigh, tossing the cushion behind you. You began to pace the length of the room, the soft carpet muffling the sound of the footsteps as you moved back and forth in a nervous rhythm, allowing yourself to let your mind wander.

The entire day, you filled every passing hour with the relentless task of avoiding Carlos at all costs. You threw yourself into your work, burying your emotions beneath a mountain of tasks and responsibilities, hoping to drown out the nagging thoughts that threatened to consume you.

But now, once you returned home, there was no escaping the stark reality of your situation. You stood in the dimly lit living room as the events of the day replayed in your mind like a broken record, each moment etched into your memory with painful clarity.

You couldn't shake the feeling of guilt that gnawed at your insides, knowing that you were keeping such a life-altering secret from him. But the fear of his reaction, of the inevitable confrontation that would follow, kept you rooted in place, trapped in a cycle of uncertainty and anxiety.

Finally, the doorbell rang, breaking the heavy silence that hung heavy in the air and you felt a surge of both relief and apprehension flood through you. It was as if the weight had already begun lifting off your shoulders, knowing that Ava's arrival signaled the beginning of a conversation you had been dreading yet desperately needed to have.

You opened the door to find Ava standing there, her expression a mixture of concern and determination. She stepped inside and immediately pulled you into a tight hug. "I'm here," she said softly, pulling back to look you in the eyes. "Let's sit down and talk."

Leading her to the couch, you noticed that Ava had brought a bottle of wine with her, a ritual for your gossip sessions. She set the bottle down on the coffee table, smiling warmly. "I figured we could use this tonight," she said, her tone light. "It always helps us unwind and talk things through."

You felt a pang of sadness as you looked at the bottle. "Actually, Ava, I can't have any wine," you said quietly, taking a deep breath to steady yourself.

Ava's brow furrowed in confusion. "Why not?" she asked, her concern deepening.

You took another deep breath, trying to find the right words. "Ava, there's something I've been hiding, something that's been eating away at me," you began, your voice trembling slightly. "I didn't know how to tell you, but I can't keep it to myself any longer.”

Ava leaned in closer, her eyes never leaving yours. "Whatever it is, you can tell me," she assured you. "I'm here for you, no matter what."

You nodded, grateful for her unwavering support. "I know, and that's why I need to be honest with you," you said, your voice steadying. "Ava, I'm pregnant."

Ava's eyes widened in surprise, her hand instinctively reaching out to grasp yours in a gesture of comfort. "Oh my god," she whispered, her voice filled with shock.

As tears pricked at the corner of your eyes, you reached for the small cardboard box on the coffee table and opened it, revealing the first pregnancy test you've taken. With trembling hands, you carefully lifted it out and showed it to Ava.

"This is the first one," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Ava took the test from you, her fingers brushing against yours in a gentle gesture of support. She studied it for a moment, her brows furrowing in concentration as she noticed the faint lines that indicated a positive result.

Her gaze flicked up to meet yours, her eyes full of concern, "Are you sure?" she asked, her voice gentle.

You nodded, reaching back into the box to pull out the rest of the tests. "I took ten pregnancy tests," you said, your voice growing more frustrated with each word. "I peed on ten fucking sticks, and they all said the same damn thing." You laid the tests out in front of her, each one displaying the unmistakable positive result.

Ava looked at the tests, then back at you, her expression shifting from concern to empathy. She reached out and placed a comforting hand on your arm again. "How are you feeling about all this?" she asked softly.

You took a deep breath, the frustration and fear you had been holding back threatening to spill over. "I have a human being growing inside of me, Ava," you said, your voice breaking. "I'm not okay."

Ava's eyes filled with sympathy as she listened to you, her hand still resting on your arm. "I can't even imagine what you're going through, but it's okay to feel like this, it's a lot to process."

You nodded, tears welling up in your eyes. "I have a small human being depending on me to grow strong and healthy for a whole nine months," you continued, the weight of your words sinking in.

"What's to stress about, right?" you shrugged, a sad smile growing on your face.

Ava pulled you into a comforting hug, letting you rest your head on her shoulder. "You don't have to do this alone. I'm here for you, every step of the way."

You pulled back slightly, wiping away the tears that had started to fall. "Thank you," you said, your voice shaky but grateful. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

She smiled warmly, "luckily, you'll never have to find out."

Ava paused for a moment, then gently asked, "So, who's the father?"

You hesitated, your heart pounding in your chest. "It's Carlos," you finally admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Ava's eyes widened slightly, "Carlos? Like the Ferrari driver Carlos?"

You eyed her oddly, managing a small smile despite your anxiety. "No, his father, you idiot, of course it's the Ferrari driver Carlos."

Ava shoved your shoulder playfully while rolling her eyes. "That actually makes so much sense," she said thoughtfully.

"What do you mean?" You asked, raising your eyebrows.

"All those times he made excuses to take you away from us and how you guys are always together. I didn't know you guys were dating," she explained, and you winced, hoping that it wasn't too obvious to the others.

You shook your head. "No, Ava, we aren't dating..." you trailed off, letting her piece the information together.

Her eyes widened as the realization dawned on her. "Wait, you're not dating but..." she paused, her eyes flicking between your face and the pregnancy tests on the table. "So it was just..?"

You nodded, feeling a lump form in your throat. "It just happened, and now I'm, well, you know."

"Wow," she said softly. "That's a lot to take in."

"Tell me about it," you replied, your voice tinged with both sarcasm and anxiety.

Then, she let out a small laugh, trying to lighten the mood. "Fuck, you're actually pregnant, huh?"

You couldn't help but smile a little at her attempt to make you laugh. "Yeah, I really am," you said, feeling a bit of the tension ease.

Ava glanced at the wine bottle she had brought, then stood up to find a corkscrew in your kitchen before opening the bottle. "Well, I guess that means I'll just have to drink your share of the wine too," she said with a grin.

You chuckled, feeling a bit more at ease. "Guess so."

Ava's expression grew serious again. "Does he know?" she asked gently.

You shook your head, the weight of the secret heavy on your shoulders. "Do I have to tell him?" you asked, your voice filled with uncertainty.

Ava took a deep breath, her expression serious but kind. "I think he deserves to know, no matter what you choose to do," she said softly. "It's his right to be aware of this."

You felt tears welling up in your eyes. "I'm scared," you whispered.

The enormity of the situation, the uncertainty, and the fear of Carlos' reaction weighed heavily on you.

"It's okay to be scared," Ava said, her voice steady and reassuring. "But I'm with you every step of the way. We'll figure this out together."

Ava's presence, her understanding, and her unwavering support made you feel a little lighter, like a small burden had been lifted off your shoulders. You knew there was still a long road ahead, but with Ava by your side, you felt a flicker of hope. Despite the fear and uncertainty, you found comfort in knowing you weren't alone in this.

She reached out and squeezed your hand once more before sitting back with her glass of wine, teasingly taunting you as she took an exaggerated sip which earned an eye roll from you.

"Okay, now that we've got the serious stuff out of the way, I have to ask... is Carlos good in bed?" She wiggled her eyebrows playfully, lightening the mood.

You couldn't help but laugh, a small bubble of amusement breaking through your anxiety.

"Seriously?" You asked, shaking your head.

She placed her wine glass on the table, speaking with loud hand gestures. "I mean he's got to be considering he fucked a baby into you, but c'mon spill the tea!"

You smirked, deciding to have a bit of fun with her. "Well, since you want to know, he's very, very good. Like the way he moves... it's like he knows exactly what I want before I even do. Ava, his hands are fucking magic. He knows how to touch me just right, and oh my god, don't even get me started on his tongue—"

Her eyes widened, her hands flying to cover her ears. "Oh my god, stop! I didn't need to know that much!" she cried out, her cheeks rusted with a light shade of pink. "He's my colleague, basically my boss, or whatever for crying out loud."

You burst out laughing, feeling a sense of relief as the tension in the room dissipated.

Placing your hand on her shoulder, you pretended to be serious. "Oh no, you asked so now you're getting all the details. I mean, have you seen those arms? They aren't just for show, when he lifts me—"

Ava squealed, her hands still over her ears, but her laughter couldn't be contained. "Stop, stop, I don't need to picture that."

"And his neck," you continued, ignoring her protests. "I know they train it and all, but holy shit it's thick, like the kind you just wanna kiss over and over again. And the way he whispers in Spanish—"

Ava's eyes widened even more, and she quickly reached over, covering your mouth with her hand to stop you. "Okay, okay! That's enough! I get it, he's amazing in bed. Spare me the details!"

You laughed against her hand, your eyes sparkling with amusement. Ava finally let go, shaking her head as she laughed. "I don't know why I asked," she muttered. "Now I'm going to have to avoid him at work without blushing like an idiot."

You grinned, "well, you did ask about it."

She rolled her eyes, then settled back on the couch. "Alright, no more bedroom stories. We need to figure out what you're going to do next. Like, telling Carlos."

Your smile faded as you thought about the upcoming conversation. "Yeah, I know. It's just... I'm terrified of how he's going to react."

Ava looked at you with concern. "How bad could he react? I mean, he's always been such a decent guy. And if he does react badly, I'll be right there to smack some sense into him."

You couldn't help but laugh, despite the anxiety gnawing at you. "I appreciate the backup. I just... I don't know. I guess I'm afraid he'll feel trapped or something."

Ava leaned forward, her eyes earnest. "Listen, he's got a right to know. And you're not alone in this. No matter what happens, you've got me, and we'll face it together."

You took a deep breath, trying to let her words sink in. "Thanks, Ava. I just hope it goes okay."

"It will," she said confidently. "And if it doesn't, well, I'll be there with you, and we'll deal with it together. You're stronger than you think, and Carlos might surprise you."

You nodded, feeling a bit more reassured. The evening continued with more supportive words from Ava and plans on how to approach the conversation with Carlos. As daunting as it felt, knowing you had Ava's unwavering support made it a little less terrifying.

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#babyjr fic #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz fic #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz fluff #carlos sainz fanfic #f1 fluff #f1 imagines #f1 series #f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #thef1diary fic

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