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sordidmusings · 1 year

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Age Gap (Buggy x Reader)

A/N: for @soft-mafia since she wanted more age gap Buggy! Mostly bulleted like a headcanon but has two little drabbles sprinkled in cuz I couldn't help myself. I will be posting a continuation of this actually writing out the scene mentioned at the end, but I wanted to get this out now.

Word count: ~2.6 k

Warnings: obviously an age gap but the younger one is mentioned to be in their 20s, fem!reader, NSFW mentioned at the end, alcohol consumption, probably (hopefully) silly humor, the touch starved shows hardcore for a second there, tried my best to get Buggy right but you know how it be especially because he exists as an amalgam of LA and anime Buggy in my brain

Now come get y'all dopamine

I imagine you joined Buggy’s crew largely looking for that found family goodness then found out how much you’d never been taken care of and how much you craved it

One day while going through the different acts you were learning from the crew trying to find what stuck, you took a decent fall. Not the kind that breaks bones, but the kind where you just gotta lay there a sec and recalibrate how you got to this point

After some laughter (I mean come on it is a crew curated by Buggy and they could tell it wasn’t serious), the nearby crew surrounded you to check on you. While you were breathlessly saying you’re fine from your position on the floor, they parted to reveal the Captain coming to your side:

Buggy bent down to loom over you. The shadow he cast over your face was a welcome break from the bright overhead lights. You just wished that the way they haloed him didn’t make it so hard to see the laughter on his face.

“Good form! I think we could just throw you around to see you flail like that as your act - you’d be our finest comedy routine.” His voice was thick with sarcasm and giggles. However, his detached arms were gentle when they lifted you from the floor. They changed to posing outstretched with his hands on your shoulders and he walked into them to reattach. He looked you up and down before circling around you, all the while his hands were nudging you this way and that for his inspection. Once he was back at your front, he changed to brushing some dirt from your arms and shoulders. You didn’t speak for fear of interrupting this attention you were receiving from him. He seemed to suddenly snap to clarity anyway.

“RIGHT.” Vocal control? Who is she? Buggy doesn’t know her. “So either get better at what you’re doing or actually fall on purpose. Wouldn’t want you fucking up that money maker.” He was already walking away when one detached hand gave your cheek two brisk pats and he made himself scarce.

It was obvious to you and everyone else how much you ate up his attention. The soft look you were still giving the direction he went in was damn near sickening. It was then you understood your purpose here - becoming Buggy’s spoiled lapdog.

Luckily for you, that was also the moment Buggy realized how his body buzzed when he touched you and how he lit up when you looked up at him with pretty, wide eyes.

Unluckily, he also decided that being near you would lead down a dangerous route of him needing more and more of you and he was positive that he was just being some old creep over a pretty little thing like you.

This led to a game where Buggy would try to keep you at arm’s length while he battled both his own desire to be around you and your seemingly supernatural ability to just appear next to him at all times.

He wasn’t great at the arms distance thing even when he thought he was nailing it because nailing it to him was being in his natural space as the center of attention and only checking (immediately and desperately) that you were watching and approving of whatever he was doing. The way his head would always snap to you for your reaction was neither subtle nor discouraging to your rapidly growing infatuation.

You decided that orbiting his personal space wasn’t working well enough. Sure, he’d give you a hit of what you wanted with some fleeting touches and mostly disguised compliments but you needed more. Hurting yourself intentionally so that he would take care of you didn’t seem like a sustainable option, so you settled on playing his own game. Time to practice owning a room.

This could be a dangerous game to play. You were certain that blatantly taking the spotlight would just make him upset with you not that you’d mind him taking that out on you. You settled on more subtle things like spreading your attention more through the crew instead of mostly on him, being more focused and daring in your training, participating more in the many games that broke out when the alcohol did, and dressing a bit more intentionally (whether that’s flashier colors, eye-catching accessories, bold makeup, new or intricate hairstyles, etc.)

The boldest card you played was feeding more into any of the flirting you received.

He has a freak show, yes, but have you ever seen how fine circus performers are?? Full fun costumes are It and also the tasks they have to perform either help them get conventionally attractive bodies and/or the rizz that comes with performing feats (just look at the traction Fryboy has gained with women like damn why he kinda-). Due to that, you’re around attractive people all the time.

While the flirting is for the purpose of pushing Buggy’s buttons, you must admit that it wasn’t a hard habit to keep up and may help inflate your ego.

Your attempts have mixed results. Buggy’s desire to claim you grew but so did his insecurity

In his mind, you look more natural next to one of the younger lookers in his crew while he’s certain the pair of you must look ridiculous together. It’s this very insecurity that’s gonna make it necessary for you to bluntly and shamelessly throw yourself at him both repeatedly and with no room for questions:

You have no clue what else you can do to get through that thick skull of his. You’re on your knees, quite literally at that. You figured that kneeling in front of that circus throne while he’s laid himself all over it would be enough to break the man. Enough to break any man, really, but he’s still finding ways to deflect you.

Buggy nodded his head to a nearby open seat. “You know they made chairs to be comfortable and your dumb ass is on the floor. That drunk already?” he snorted. Maybe choosing to do this during one of the many celebrations (you think this one is for one week of no one pregaming for show runs. ironic.) was a bad idea. You had been banking on some drinks loosening up whatever was holding him back. It always made you snicker when you entertained the idea of it being from a sense of propriety. Checking in on the situation, you could see how all the chaos going on around you two made it easier for him to keep his eyes off of you and his ears unfocused. Earlier, you had counted it as a plus that working up a buzz would help you bulldoze through his stubbornness. You had forgotten that any alcohol in your system would make for the perfect excuse for him to write you off.

“I’ve barely started my third drink,” you started with a pout, “and I’d be ashamed if that’s enough to get me drunk after all the time spent on your crew.”

“Then you are just being stupid.”

You huffed and rolled your eyes. Okay. Attention didn’t work. Compliments didn’t work. Kneeling didn’t work. Time for some big guns.

You shifted to the side so you’d be sitting towards your left hip with your bent legs beside you. Your drink found its way to your right hand but, most importantly, your chin found its way onto Buggy’s left knee. It brought you so close to where you’d really like to put yourself to work, and, man, was the temptation strong with the way his right leg was slung over the armrest of his seat. How did he expect you to stay away when he was serving himself up on a platter like this?

Buggy was definitely giving you his undivided attention now. His gaze was dark and slightly accusatory. The lighting matched with his makeup made him look more dangerous than usual. The nerves it sent through you might have had you back right off. Instead you held your ground because you saw his pulse hammer against his neck. You saw his throat bob as he swallowed. You saw his pink tongue contrast with red as he licked his lips and gave a shaky exhale.

While you were starting to settle into your bold move, Buggy was becoming more and more antsy. His grip on his glass became white-knuckled under his gloves, and he tried to give himself time to think by taking a huge gulp of his drink. Why did you have to look at him like that? So pleading? The angle from his lap made your lashes darken your eyes and it was impossible for him to keep the image of your hooded gaze about a foot closer to him out of his head. What did you want from him? You’d denied his accusations about money or intel so what the fuck could it be? Was this a game? Get in the pants of the Captain for preferential treatment and go back to whoever else you had in your palm on the crew to laugh about him falling for it?

You noticed his mood turning sour so you decided to interrupt whatever was tumbling around his head. “I think I could get much more comfy right here.” To prove a point, you dragged your chin to his inner thigh, right above his knee, and snuggled your cheek into his leg. His pants weren’t the softest against your skin but he was so addictingly warm through them. Your eyes briefly fluttered shut to enjoy the sensation before you looked back up at him and flirtatiously said, “I’m comfiest next to you.”

His hands itched with the need to grab you by the hair and force your face right where he needed you. Instead he scoffed at you. “Suuuuure. And why’s that, princess?”

“You make me smile,” you admitted immediately. His startled gaze met your lovesick one and you realized what you said and how quickly you said it. Too close to emotionally vulnerable; time to backtrack a touch. You want to get the role as his trophy before you even attempt to approach the title of Love of His Life. “You also said that you take care of your crew and I’m on your crew, right? So you’ll take care of me.”

The cheeky smile you spoke through melted him. An achingly deep sigh left him while his right hand detached from the arm to deposit his drink on the floor next to you. Quickly, it flew back to its limb. Both of your hearts pumped fire through your chests as he reached that hand out towards you. Buggy took his time stroking his fingers from your forehead into your hair. When his palm came down to join the gesture, you were very happy to realize that his hand was just as warm as the thigh still under your cheek. You shuffled closer so your legs squeezed in between his foot and the left leg of his throne. Buggy shuddered when he felt your fingertips graze the back of his calf and spread out like a star so you could grab it. Using your new grip, you snuggled more firmly into his leg and let yourself buzz off of getting this new touch from your Captain.

Ulterior motives be damned, Buggy couldn’t give them any credence when you looked so happy to sit at his feet and receive such a simple touch. He should probably laugh and call you a needy puppy to regain some control over the situation. Instead, he slipped his hand down the side of your head. He massaged his fingertips into the base of your skull and said, “I’ll take care of you, little star.”

Once he has accepted that you’re serious there will be jokes about the dynamic but do not be fooled - he can only dish it out and WILL spiral if he receives any type of comment about how much older he is (the word geriatric is punishable by death)

Sometimes the joke is him patronizingly treating you like a child (you almost socked him right there at the dinner table when some food came at your face with accompanying airplane noises)

Sometimes it’s calling you a gold digger (“then where’s my allowance, huh?” “OH so my gIFTS AREN’T ENOUGH FOR YOU NOW? YOU were the one ACTUALLY CRYING over me buying you that wonky ass stuffed seal with the lopsided face!!” “HIS NAME IS JERRY AND YOU WILL SHOW HIM SOME RESPECT”)

Sometimes it’s just dumb shit like pointing at the type of girl’s clothing store that has made a contract with God to own all the pinks and pastels the world has to offer before turning to you straight faced and asking if you want to stop in to look. Any way this man can think to goof, he will.

And it’s tooooootally a coping mechanism to process the fact that he’s nearly forty and dating a twenty-something and not at all because joking around with you has become one of his basic survival needs

The dynamic ends up helping both of y’all feel special - you have a hot, boisterous, spotlight-stealing pirate captain pampering (and then making a mess of) you while he gets a beautiful, capable, eye-catching young thing looking at him like he hung the stars in the sky

Nothing goes to Buggy’s head more than when you walk into a room full of people, attractive ones especially, and only see him.

He loves anything that makes it obvious to others that you are his, whether that's him draped over you, you draped over him, red stains on the back of your hands, your shoulders, your cheeks, your forehead, your neck, having his jolly roger on your outfit, having you in his hat or coat

This very much extends to him wanting anyone and everyone to overhear you in the bedroom. Everyone should know you're his and he's the only one who can make you feel so good

Don't worry, they'll also get the message that he's yours from all the moaning and praises

He gives you endless pet names but always comes back to “sweet stuff”, “sweets”, “princess”, “star”, “prima donna” (affectionate), “prima donna” (derogatory), and anything preceded by “little” (“little showstopper”, “little tease”, very rarely “little girl” if he feels especially like exerting power over you)

He prides himself on making you feel cared for and safe. Instead of feeling like a chore he has to do because he’s in the ‘older man’ role, he loves the way you preen under his attention and how you happily return the favor.

When in the Cross Guild Era, Buggy started going to all meetings with you by his side then on his thigh. It was a good defensive strategy because the other two seemed more hesitant to throttle him if you were in the way, but lets be real this man is also clingy and loves showing you off too.

At first he found it offensive that Mihawk and Croc were so disbelieving at the sight of you happily perched on your captain’s lap but then it made him the smuggest motherfucker when he would see their eyes trail over you knowing that they can only look and he can touch however he wants. This leads to him pushing until he hit your boundary at leaving very visible marks on you

One time he fucked you stupid right before a meeting so that you wouldn’t think about the bite mark surrounded by red makeup that kept playing peekaboo with your shirt collar (or the red smears between your thighs that showed whenever you shifted your legs)

#buggy x reader #buggy the clown #one piece #one piece x reader #buggy one piece #opla buggy #buggy x you #buggy x y/n #my writing #fem reader #afab reader #x reader

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killerlookz · 2 months

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You and Your Friend | Joost Klein, Ski Aggu

description: joost klein x f! reader, ski aggu x f! reader- Upon seeing each other for the first time in a year after a hook-up, lingering tension remains between you and Joost, leaving his friend Aggu to decide to play matchmaker for you two in a rather unusual way.

content: 18+ smut, mdni, threesome, unprotected PiV, cream pie, oral (both m! and f! receiving) spitroasting?? i think that's what its called, a little orgasm denial, f!overstim, a tinge of jealousy (less than I originally planned cos its been a min since i wrote something without angst lol), drinking, aggu being a complete sneaky little bastard/kind of convoluted plot bc of it, mentioned that reader has moved to LA but no nationality or country of origin is assigned to them. not super proofread

THIS FIC CONTAINS RPF AND HAS BEEN TAGGED AS SUCH... IF THAT MAKES YOU UNCOMFORTABLE DO NOT INTERACT, PLEASE BLOCK THE RPF TAG AND MOVE ON. DO NOT SHARE MY WORK ON OTHER SOCIAL MEDIAS OUTSIDE OF TUMBLR EITHER IN SCREENSHOTS OR IN ITS ENTIRETY.

word count: 9095

The bitter taste of liquor drips down your throat, an uncomfortable warmth invading your abdomen as the liquid reaches your stomach. Your muscles tense, your eyes forcing shut, an involuntary twitch trembling through your nerves. With a groan of disgust you slam the shot glass down on the marble counter in front of you, your eyes finally opening as you do so.

Music thumps around you, pouring from expensive speakers throughout the impressive expanse of the house you currently stood in. Party-goers intoxicated on the finest substances money could buy surrounded you, their loud voices almost rivaling the music.

Since moving to Los Angeles parties like this had become your thing, mansions in the hills that you could't dream of affording had practically become your second home. Vague connections with the music industry, and being a friend, of a friend, of a friend had managed to get you in just about anywhere. You were working your way up to becoming a well-known socialite, minus the usual rich parents and nepotism.

Parties like this were usually your thing, making drunken connections and inching your way up the city's social totem pole, all while having the time of your life. Today seemed different, the liquor wasn't hitting you the same, the music didn't sound right, and engaging in conversation felt like a chore. Being fresh-faced and hot in Los Angeles, you had become far too used to the world being yours, but not tonight. Tonight the one thing you wanted was too far out of your reach.

Last year one of your friends suggesting a surprise vacation had landed you in Berlin, and a night of clubbing had landed you in bed with a particular Dutch musician. His name was Joost, relatively unknown outside of the Netherlands at the time, he and a friend who called himself Ski Aggu had been out celebrating having a number one hit in Germany. It felt like fate that he had ended up at the same club where you had been, and it didn't take much for him to charm your clothes off. Both he and Aggu were far different than the musicians you had met in the states. Confident, but not full of themselves like you had been used to, both men had actually given you the time of day, they were interested in you beyond what you could do for them sexually. Truth be told you would have been happy to go home with either of them that night, and you wondered if Aggu had been the one to take you to bed if you would even be in the predicament you were in now.

You and Joost had kept vague contact since the night you hooked up, how could you not? He was an exceptional lay, fucking you like the two of you were long lost lovers, making you cum over and over until you collapsed into a whimpering mess in his arms. It felt far too sweet for a one-night stand, and, perhaps stupidly you had thought there was something more there. Hence, your lingered contact, an occasional text here and there to catch up on how things had been, a phone call on an even rarer occasion.

You hadn't exactly expected him to blow up in the way that he did in the year since you last saw him, a spot competing on Eurovision, and a subsequent disqualification put fame right at his finger tips. Still, even with his newfound success, and much less "low-key" life, which had resulted in your contact with him reaching a screeching halt, you still refused to believe that you were nothing more than a one-night stand. That fact alone had made tonight just about impossible for you. Never in a million years had you expected Joost to be in the States, let alone one of these parties, this was your territory. But, there was no denying that was the case as you tried your hardest to prevent your gaze from wandering across the room towards where you knew he had been standing. You tried your hardest to rack your brain on who he could have known here, but after his stint as a Eurovision contestant, you shouldn't be so surprised, sure he now had connections far wider than you could imagine. Though, you found it charming how he still traveled with that same group of friends he had when you met him in that tiny club in Berlin. And certainly seeing Joost again would be a much more charming experience if he had actually bothered to glance your way at least once tonight. But you had no such luck.

Leaving your empty shot glass on the marble countertop, you decide to drag yourself off to another part of the home, somewhere where it isn't so crowded, where you can have some space to think, to breathe. Usually on nights like tonight, ironically enough thinking was the last thing on your mind, but now, you had felt like you needed somewhere to escape to where you could hear your own thoughts. Maybe then, in the comfortability of your the presence of nobody else but yourself could you once again bring out that messy party girl who was screaming to be let out of you.

An empty bedroom had become the perfect place for you to wallow in your self-pity for the time being. The music still thumped in your ears, albeit more muffled now, and the voices of party goers were nothing but a dull hum. You let yourself fall onto the large bed, your body hitting the thick, surely all-too-expensive comforter. You stare at the ceiling, contemplating your next move, never in your life had you felt like this when it came to a guy. Never had you let yourself second guess whether you were worth a man's time, of course you were worth it. But with Joost, you couldn't help but lose the self-assurance you always had, for once, you found yourself actually caring about what someone else thought of you. Your stomach churned at the thought, getting all self-conscious over a guy you barely knew was surely a major blow to your I don't give a fuck reputation. For the first time since you had moved to Los Angeles, you had been humbled.

"Oh, shit." A vaguely familiar chuckle travels from where you think the door to the bedroom is. The accent in the voice is apparent, even in those two short words, enough for you to be almost-certain of who now occupies the bedroom with you. Almost-certain isn't enough, however, and straining slight due to your tipsy nature you sit up from where your back rests against the bed.

Your suspicions are immediately confirmed upon getting a glimpse at the other person in the room.

"Aggu!" You grit your teeth, attempting a smile, and immediately you regret your decision to address him by name, positive he had probably completely forgotten who you are. You cross your legs and sit up straight.

Aggu smiles back, leaning against the door frame,

"Am I interrupting something?" He asks, a little confused, but amusement still written all over his face. "Waiting for Joost?" He laughs. He did remember you.

"Joost?" You scoff, trying your hardest to pretend that the idea of you wanting anything to do with Joost was ridiculous, "No." You shake your head, hopefully hiding your bitterness behind a polite smile, "I didn't even know he was here."

Aggu smirks, forcing a tension into the room. Watching as his lips curl your jaw clenches, your fingers digging into the thick fabric of the comforter.

"Blödsinn." (nonsense) His tone is disapproving as his arms cross, you don't understand a what he says, not that you can concentrate much on whatever comes out of his mouth with the way his bicep muscles strain against the tight fabric of his t-shirt. You wonder briefly if he has always been this fit, if you had been too busy drooling over Joost last time you saw him to realize.

"Sorry," Aggu chuckles, clocking your lack of comprehension, "I mean to say you're full of shit."

"What," Your eyes widen, muscles tensing, "No, I'm not." You're instantly defensive, which you're sure gives yourself away entirely.

"I have working eyes under those ski goggles" He uncrosses an arms, pressing a finger under his eye, tapping twice. There's an odd sweetness about his condescension towards you, like he's slowly, wordlessly beginning to understand your situation.

"Hm?" You hum, barely loud enough for him to hear, your eyebrows furrow for a moment- right, your face returns to a more relaxed expression, you had forgotten about his ski goggle shtick, and perhaps you could consider yourself lucky for the only two times you had seen him in person had been without his goggles.

"Unless it's me you've been oggling all night." You and him both know that isn't true, you can tell in the way he speaks, it's more of a suggestion. You shrug, letting a sheepish look fall on your face in pretend innocence.

"Joost and I... only hooked up that one time," You say, your voice indicating you had little regard for the situation, perhaps you weren't such a bad liar after all, "But maybe I wish it was you who I had gone home with instead." At least that wasn't entirely a lie, at least even now Aggu seemed willing to give you the time of day, even if he had only stumbled into you on accident.

You let your eyes widen, suddenly looking up at Aggu from your spot on the bed through batted lashes, a pout forming on your well-glossed lips, and there she was, that messy party girl inside of you, finally crawling her way out. Slowly, you uncross your legs, letting your thighs part slightly, though not quite enough to get a glimpse of anything up your skirt.

"Ja?" Aggu's eyebrows raise as he slowly lifts himself from against the door frame, walking towards you. "Guess you don't feel the same about that night as Joost does then."

"What do you mean?" The words fall from your lips before your brain can even catch up, and she's gone, the simple sentence knocking you down once again. Had Joost actually enjoyed that night as much as you did?

"Joost isn't the type to kiss and tell." His arms crossing again, he's much closer to you now, "But after a night like that I think he had to."

"A night like..." You're suddenly worried about what Aggu had heard about that night, trying to remember if anything particularly crazy happened, nothing stood out, though maybe you and him did not have the same threshold for what would be considered "crazy."

"Don't want to say too much," He trails off for a moment, letting his mouth once again curl into a smirk, "Just something about the best sex of his life."

Your entire body is hot, burning, the best sex of his life? You could say the same, and the expression that forms on your face threatens to let Aggu know as much.

"Yeah?" You let a smirk settle on your face, your confidence finding you once more, "Can't say he's the first I've heard that from."

"So, you're really not waiting for Joost up here? No plans to relive that night?" Aggu asks, like he didn't believe you the first time you said so. You simply shake your head in response. "A shame for him then." Aggu says matter-of-factly, "Not interested in topping your performance from last time?"

"I'm afraid he's the one who isn't interested." Your vulnerability surprises you, but you cannot say your intentions are entirely pure, thinking if you told the truth, that his best friend didn't seem to be interested, your chances with Aggu would increase tonight. If you can't have one, why wait around and deny yourself of the other?

Aggu shakes his head, "You sound certain."

"Believe me," You sigh, "I've got the memo, no response from him in weeks and he hasn't even looked at me since he got here, I'm certain."

"Maybe I wouldn't be so sure," He teases, "Jealousy is an excellent motivator,"

"Jealousy?" You perk up, interested, immediately picking up what he was putting down.

Aggu nods slowly, "And if it doesn't end up as a motivator, I'm sure we'll have a good time either way." He seems so much taller now that he stands right in front of you, lustful eyes staring down at your spot on the bed, "I get my best friend laid, I get laid, and you get laid, looks like we all win."

And why have one or the other when you could have both?

"Right," You murmur, choked in the moment, "Winners." Your luck had suddenly turned, the prospect of what was in store for you tonight makes your muscles tense, your thighs squeezing together, forced shut from their parted position.

Aggu's hand slips to your chin, his thumb pressing against your lips, you're like putty in his hands the moment he touches you.

"Ah," He smiles, noticing the way you melt under him, "You weren't lying when you said you wanted me to take you home."

"Not at all," You breathe out, your muscles relaxing, allowing yourself to enjoy the warmth of Aggu's touch. You lean into his hand, and pucker your lips, pressing a kiss to his thumb. Aggu drags his finger against your bottom lip, pulling it down and forcing your mouth into a pout,

"C'mon," He urges, "Let's go downstairs before we take things too far."

You nod, staring up at Aggu silently, waiting for him to help you up. He does so quickly, reaching a firm hand out for you to grab.

The music becomes more apparent as Aggu leads you out into the hallway, even more so as you head back down the stairs to where the bulk of the party-goers reside.

It's almost embarrassing how quickly you're able to spot Joost, though not fully allowing yourself to wallow in the shame of how desperate you were for him, you chalked it up to him not having moved too far from the last place you had seen him.

Joost doesn't seem to notice you and Aggu, however, as the pair of you step in the room, your hand still in his.

Sparked with an idea, you rip your hand from Aggu's, instead turning toward him. You ruffle your hand through your hair, before lowering your fingers to your lips, swiping a thumb hard enough to just barely smudge the color that stains them. Lowering your hands even farther you slip one of the straps of your top down, letting it hang off your shoulder.

"What's that for?" Aggu asks over the music.

"Giving myself the I just had sex look."

Aggu snakes a hand onto your waist, "Maybe I should have just fucked you upstairs then."

His straightforwardness knocks the breath from you for a split moment,

"The time will come," You say sweetly, reaching a hand up to ruffle his hair, attempting to get him to match your mild state of disheveled.

Aggu's eyes flick towards Joost, who's sitting on a couch across the room with his friend Apson, who you remembered vaguely from last year.

"Why don't we go take a seat, hm, looks like there's room for only one more."

You bite your lip, ready to fully lean into the jealousy act.

With his arm around your waist Aggu walks you over to where Joost had been sitting, still even with the assurance of someone who knew actually knew Joost leading you, you can't seem to quell the small pang of anxiety that rings somewhere deep inside you.

Finally it seems Joost takes his first good look at you tonight, a look of amusement on his face as he sees you walking over with Aggu.

"Where have you been, man?" Joost laughs, averting his gaze from you, speaking solely to Aggu.

"Around," Aggu responds flippantly, "Hey, you remember y/n, right?" His grip tightening around your waist, "You two met last year." With his free hand Aggu points between the two of you.

Joost's eyes widen, clearly unsure of what game Aggu was getting at here,

"Ja- uh ja," Joost clears his throat, his eyes quickly darting to you, "Nice to see you again." He nods, an uncomfortable smile pressed to his lips.

"You too," You respond cautiously, feigning disinterest, only a polite grin gracing your lips.

Aggu takes a seat next to Joost before grabbing your hand,

"C'mon sit down," He urges, pulling you onto his lap. After you're settled on his lap Aggu turns towards Apson, "Hey, Appie you remember y/n too right?"

A large grin forms on Apson's lips, a chuckle threatening to spill from his mouth,

"Ja, oh I remember." You watch as Apson gently judges Joost, his elbow poking at Joost's ribcage. You suppress a smirk as you realize how far news of you and Joost's hookup had spread in his friend group. Joost sends Apson a quick glance, one that says knock it off, but it doesn't tame the smile on his face.

"So," Joost speaks quickly to avert the topic from Apson's recollection of the night you and Joost had hooked up, "How have you been?"

You nod, humming pleasantly, "Good," you pause for a moment, racking your brain for what else to say, "Life's been, fun. How about you, things seem interesting in your world."

"Interesting is-eh, definitely a correct word to describe it." He agrees, "I'm grateful though, you know, with everything, it's cool."

"Absolutely," You lean back on Aggu, letting your back rest on his chest, letting your ass settle in his lap, "You must be tired from everything, no?"

Joost shakes his head, "Overwhelming a little," He pauses, "But not tired, I have good stamina." Oh he sure did, that you knew for sure.

"I see Aggu has been busy too," You pull the conversation away from Joost, "You have a new album coming out soon, right? Oh what's it called again?" You ask, turning your head down towards Aggu, placing a hand onto his chest.

"Wilmersdofrs Kind," Aggu smiles, a hand sneaking its way around your front and onto your thigh.

"Ah, and what does that mean?"

"Wilmersdorf's Child." He answers, "You know, Wilmersdorf, is an area of Berlin, maybe next time you're in Germany I could show you around." His grip tightens on his thigh.

"Oh Aggu," You gush, "You are such a sweetheart. I'd love for you to take me sightseeing." Normally, acting like this towards someone you barely knew would make your stomach churn, but the way you notice Joost clenching his jaw when you flick your eyes in his direction makes all the over-the-top flintiness worth it. Besides, it wasn't like it was a challenge to flirt with a man as good looking as him.

"Speaking of traveling," Joost pipes up, "Have you ever been to the Netherlands?"

The muscles of your mouth pull upwards, funny how eager Joost seemed to talk to you now that you were sitting on Aggu's lap, the pair of you flirting aggressively.

You shake your head, "No, never." Keeping your responses short, you don't want to give him too much too soon.

"Have you ever thought about coming to the Netherlands?"

"Depends," You bite your lip, "Do I get to have you as my tour guide? Or are you too busy for me now, Mr. Eurovision." You tease.

"Never too busy, If Aggu doesn't mind me co-opting his tour guide position." Joost shoots Aggu a glance, the pair of them communicating silently, though you cannot quite read either of their expressions.

"Never too busy?" You ask, "Could have fooled me."

"Y/n," Aggu lightly scolds, gripping your thigh

"Um," Apson speaks all of a sudden, "I think I'm going to go-uh- over there, I think Alanis was calling my name." Apson loosely points in a random direction, one where Alanis certainly is not standing. But without another word he's hurrying off the couch. The three of you watch as he scurries off into the direction he pointed in before returning to the conversation.

"What?" Joost furrows his eyebrows, and in an instant you're ready to abandon the whole jealousy act now that you have an opportunity to let Joost know exactly how you had been feeling. But Aggu's fingers gripping into the flesh of your thigh make you think twice, perhaps letting your frustrations out right now would further harm your chances of the night ending the way you want.

"Nothing," You purse your lips, "Just seem like you have a lot on your plate."

"I don't mind making time for you, if that's what you want." And all of a sudden your mouth goes dry and you're not so sure you're talking about traveling anymore.

"Yeah," Aggu interjects, "I'm sure she'd like that," His hand traveling closer to your inner thigh, forcing your body to tense up, "And, I don't mind sharing my position as tour guide." I don't mind sharing are not exactly the words you want to hear out of Aggu's mouth, after all the entire point of this was to make Joost jealous. But you trusted Aggu to read Joost better than you could, even if it did disappoint you how quickly he loosened up on the jealousy act.

"Joost," Aggu speaks again, "Why don't you move over so y/n can actually have a seat."

"Oh," Joost whips his head around to look behind him, realizing with Apson's absence the seat next to him is open. "Ja, sure."

You turn towards Aggu, confused, but all he responds with his cocking his head in the direction of the now empty seat between him and Joost.

Admittedly, a little disappointed, you lift yourself off of Aggu's lap, settling onto the couch. Still, Aggu's hand immediately returns to your thigh.

You're suddenly very aware of yourself, your position between Aggu and Joost, and you wonder if this had been the plan the whole time, if Aggu had intentionally wandered off upstairs in search of you, if he even had any intentions of trying to make Joost jealous in the first place. Had they planned to share you this entire time, from the second they laid their eyes on you tonight?

The thought has you sucking in a sharp breath, one that clearly concerns the both of them,

"You okay?" Aggu asks, caressing your thigh.

"Yeah," You assure, nodding, more than okay, but you decide to pounce on this opportunity to get the two of them away from the crowd, "It's just kind of loud, do you think we can continue this conversation upstairs?"

Joost and Aggu share knowing glances, "Of course," Joost affirms.

You're back in that bedroom, those four walls suddenly feeling familiar as you find yourself back on the bed once more.

"Aggu, can you close the door? It's still kind of loud..."

Aggu, having just barely walked in the room obliges, shutting the door behind him as he passed through the doorway.

Your body tenses at the sudden realization of you being alone with Aggu and Joost, unsure of how to take this where you want it to go. But as your eyes flick between the two of them a familiar feeling sinks in you, the world is yours once again. You settle into your spot on the bed, feeling a little bad for whoever this bedroom actually belonged to. You lean back, propping yourself up with your forearms, your legs still hanging off the bed.

"Are you two just going to stand there?" You giggle, a little surprised that both of them seemed to be frozen in place. Joost looks around, unsure of himself, his line of sight meeting Aggu as he turns to the side.

Aggu cocks his head towards you, "You first," He smirks in response to Joost's uncertainty, "Show her how bad you want her." Want you?

"Yeah," You catch your bottom lip in your teeth, "Come show me." You let your eyes settle on Joost. He seems so much taller than usual as he walks towards where you rest on the bed. You can't help but part your legs almost instinctively, allowing him to stand between them once he gets close enough.

You await his next move as you stare up at him through your lashes. Joost quickly looks back at Aggu once more, motioning with his head for him to come closer,

"Sit behind her, so she can lay on you." It felt a little strange to be talked about in the third person, but it only affirmed that tonight was about you, both of them there for no other reason than to please you.

Aggu agrees, making his way to the bed, sitting behind you, resting on his knees, positioning himself so one leg is on either side of you. His hands are familiar as they find themselves on your torso,

"C'mon," Aggu urges, "You can lay back, Hasi." (bunny)

You let Aggu prop you up with his body, no longer relying on your forearms for support, you're more upright now. Aggu's breath is hot against your neck, the tickling sensation sending shockwaves through your nerves, forcing a twitch from you.

"She's so sensitive," Aggu chuckles, noticing the way you squirm from nothing but his breath grazing your flesh.

"Don't I know it," Joost smiles, clearly remembering this wasn't the first time you had found yourself in such a position with him. Joost reaches a hand forward to hold your chin between his fingers.

"Lay back a little more," He says, a request to both you and Aggu, one to which you both oblige, letting your body slip down further as Aggu adjust's his position. "Good," Joost smiles before patting your thigh with his free hand, "Now bend your legs for me, schatje." The nickname makes your heart skip a beat, recalling his past use of the word. You oblige without a word, kicking off your heels and pulling your legs from where they hang off of the bed, shuffling further back against Aggu so you have enough room.

Your skirt slides up your thighs as you bend your legs, knees now pointing upward. Joost removes his hand from your chin, sinking down to his knees in front of you, his eyes more at level with your crotch now than with your face. It's nothing he hasn't seen before, but it had been so long, you're left feeling exposed, especially as the flimsy fabric of your lacey thong left very little to the imagination.

A content smirk rests on Joost's face as he slides a hand up from your ankle to your calf, taking his time to caress your skin. As Joost slowly teases the lower half of your body, Aggu takes it upon himself to work on your upper body, his hands sliding to the bottom hem of your shirt.

"Arms up," He simply says, and no questions asked, your arms are in the air, allowing Aggu to pull your top over your head. Your back briefly parts from his chest to allow him to fully take your top off, discarding it somewhere on the bed. Your decision to forgo a bra tonight only leaves you even more exposed.

Joost's averts his eyes from your inner thighs, a look of content settling on his face,

"Missed seeing this pretty body," His hands slip up higher on your legs, "Imagination could only get me so far."

The implications of Joost's statement makes your head spin, he had been thinking of you, just as you had been thinking of him.

"Isn't she pretty?" Joost prompts Aggu,

Aggu hums in response, though it comes out more like a low growl as his lips near your neck, "Absolutely gorgeous."

Sitting up a little higher on his knees, Joost begins to press small kisses to your legs, beginning just above your ankle, up to your knee. Each tiny peck against your skin increases the tightness that builds in your abdomen, desperate to feel Joost against your heat as his head inches closer, and closer.

By the time Joost reaches your inner thigh, his small pecks have turned into sloppy, generous kisses, using his tongue more than he was his lips. Aggu made similar work of your neck, nipping at your flesh with his teeth before carefully soothing each bite with his tongue, finishing off each blooming red blemish with a prolonged kiss.

Only a few minutes into this ordeal and you were already a mess, squirming and whimpering before either man had properly touched you.

You feel Joost's hands on your outer thighs, pushing your skirt up to your hips. Your panties or what little of them there is are on full display, Joost's tongue darts out of his mouth, wetting his soft pink lips at the sight.

A hand falls from where it rests at the hem of your skirt, lightly grazing your fabric-clad crotch, causing you to suck in a gasp. Joost chuckles at your reaction, his hand returning to the thin lace. Joost presses a thumb to your clit, rubbing slightly through your panties. The sensation is barely stifled by the fabric, his circular motions sending jolts through your entire body, each action only making you crave him more.

With each gentle rub you feel your arousal growing, the tight lace pressed against your hole growing damper by the second. You buck your hips forward, desperate to feel more of Joost.

"So impatient," He clicks his tongue.

"I think a year is long enough for me to wait," You sigh.

"What do you think Aggu?" The mention of his name has Aggu pulling away from your neck, "Should we make her wait any longer?"

"Nhn-nhn," Aggu's chin bumps against your cheek as he shakes his head in disagreement, "Give her what she wants." A breath of relief exits your lungs at Aggu's words, "I want to hear how pretty she sounds as you fuck her on your tongue."

"Can't argue with that," The pads of Joost's fingers finding their way to the crotch of your panties, swiftly pulling them to the side. The air that surrounds you is cold against your wetness, forcing you to clench around nothing. "Relax," Joost mumbles, "It's just me," head creeping forward toward your inner thighs.

A sudden kiss against your clit forces a sharp breath down your throat. Joost continues to tease with small kisses until his tongue flattens against you, licking through your soaked folds, the action completed by his lips capturing your swollen bud, lightly sucking.

His tongue was just as perfect as you had remembered it being, immediately forcing you to buck your hips forward to feel more of him. Joost is able to read your cues, pressing his tongue harder against you, his movements becoming more forceful as he continues to lick at your folds.

In the meantime, Aggu had returned his lips to your neck, continuing his pattern of biting and sucking. The sensation of both his and Joost's mouths working on such sensitive parts of your body is enough to make you worry about cumming entirely too prematurely.

Aggu's hands make their way around to your front, his large palms groping at your breasts, squeezing at the supple flesh. While one hand continues to palm at your tits, the other pinches the hardened surface of your nipple between his fingers. The feeling forces you to arch your back, pushing you further onto Joost's tongue. A strangled squeak is all that can escape your throat in response.

Joost's tongue laps at your slit with all the intent to bring you to orgasm as quick as possible, eager to give you just exactly what you want. But you're determined to make this moment last as long as possible, unsure of when the next time you would have the pleasure of being with two men such as Joost and Aggu at once would even be.

Still, your desperation to deny your orgasm for as long as you can, doesn't stop the way your legs shake under Joost's touch. His tongue so skillfully applying the perfect amount of pressure to where you need him most.

Joost momentarily stops his careful licks to fully press his mouth to you, once again letting his lips surround your clit, first softly kissing, then sucking at the sensitive nerves. Your hands find themselves tangled in Joost's hair, dancing between pulling at the strands, and pushing his head further down on you, begging him to apply even more pressure.

Joost presses his tongue to you once again, licking down to your aching hole, first teasing around it before dipping in. You groan at the sensation, hips bucking as you fuck yourself on Joost's tongue.

Aggu takes advantage of how low Joost's mouth is on you now, a hand trailing from your breast down to your mound. Careful to not get in Joost's way, he places a single finger to your clit, rubbing soft circles.

You cannot believe the pleasure you're feeling, unlike anything you had experienced before. Both Aggu and Joost seemed exceptionally skilled at what they were doing, as if they had known your body forever, knowing exactly what to do to push you closer and closer to the edge.

It's almost a struggle to keep your legs open, the only thing keeping your thighs parted was Joost's head between them. You don't know how much longer you can hold out, not with the way your entire body trembles with pleasure, both Joost and Aggu trying their absolute hardest to reach that state of bliss.

"You close, sweetie?" Aggu mumbles against your neck, the vibrations from his vocal cords sending shivers down your spine. You don't really even have to respond, not with the way your unrelenting moans speak for you. "It's okay, you can let go baby, I'm sure Joost would love to feel you cum against his tongue."

Aggu's words conflict you, wanting to cum for Joost's sake, but wanting to hold out for your own. Your eyes screw shut, knowing you won't be able to hold off much more.

Aggu's once-soft circles against your clit soon speed up, becoming rougher, all but begging you to cum for him and Joost. Your body is so tight, your pussy clenching around the warmth of Joost's tongue, with a final whimper you're sent over the edge, squirming in Aggu's gentle grasp as you reach your high.

"That's right," Aggu mumbles, sensing your orgasm, your body trembling above him. You cannot control the sounds that escape you, they're dirty, like something straight from a porn, except for you they were real, one hundred percent the result of Joost and Aggu's touch.

Your twitching begins to slow as your orgasm rolls over you, your breathing becoming labored, head falling back against Aggu's shoulder. Your legs quickly fall from their bent position, hanging off the bed once more when Joost finally removes his head from between your thighs.

Joost's glasses are fogged, and the most content look is pressed against his lips, which glisten from your release. His tongue glides over his glossy lips, before pulling in with a happy hum,

"Just as good as I remembered."

You need a moment, unable to speak as you catch your breath, slumped against Aggu's chest.

"Don't tell me you're tired out already," Aggu chastises.

"No," You sigh, your chest rising and falling rapidly, "Just need to catch my breath."

"Oh," Aggu whines, almost mocking, "Can you catch your breath while you get on your hands and knees for me, schatz."

You nod quickly, lifting yourself from Aggu's chest and rolling over, plopping stomach first on to the comforter. The mattress dips slightly as Aggu shifts positions before getting off the bed to stand behind you.

"C'mon," Aggu taps your ass, "You can get up."

Slowly, you rise up from your position laying flat on the bed, resting on your forearms you get onto your knees, arching your back, forcing your ass into the air.

"Good," Aggu muses, his hand smoothing over your ass, allowing himself a moment to ogle at the sight in front of him.

The mattress dips again, the movement drawing your curiosity, raising your head. Joost now shared the bed with you, shuffling to sit in front of you on his knees.

"Think you can take us both?" Aggu asks, the sound of metal snapping behind you, which you recognize as a belt buckle unclasping.

You swallow, head trailing up to look at Joost, his hands reaching for the buckle of his own belt. You blink a few times, processing the thought, both of them at once.

"It's just a simple yes or no schatje," Joost removes one hand from his belt to place his palm to the top of your head, lazily petting down your hair and to your cheek. You lean into his touch, nodding,

"Mhm," You hum, "Please." You arch your back a little more, head slipping down, leaving Joost's grasp.

Joost's eyes leave yours, flicking to where you presume Aggu is, giving him a nod.

"Okay," Aggu sighs, his hand settling at your waist, "Let Joost start first."

You continue to stare at Joost through heavy lashes, watching as his hands play with the large metal buckle of his belt. You bite the insides of your cheeks at the prospect of what's to come, Joost's fingers slowly slipping into the waistband of his jeans, then his boxers, pulling them down at the same time.

Your breathing loses its pace for a split moment as Joost's cock springs free from the confines of his clothing. He grips the base, palm slowly sliding up its length until he reaches the tip, his thumb circling the slit, spreading the small clear pearl of pre-cum around the soft pink flesh.

"Up on your hands, a little higher," Joost says, your current position so low on the bed making what he wanted to do impossible. Eager to take him in your mouth, you straighten your arms, resting the weight of the front half of your body in your palms. "Perfect," He mumbles, hips rocking forward until the tip of his cock reaches your lips.

You let your tongue slip forward, just barely parting your lips, licking the slit ever-so-slightly, gathering the salty taste of pre-cum in your mouth.

"Come on," Joost says sweetly, "Open those pretty lips," Guiding his cock with his hand on the shaft, he drags the tip over your lips, urging you to open up. You have no desire to tease him, simply lowering your jaw to take him into your mouth.

You let your lips capture the tip, sucking slightly, immediately making Joost groan before you've even taken him all the way in. His hips buck forward, pushing himself further into the warmth of your mouth. As he pushes into you, you point your tongue upward, licking a stripe against the vein that runs down the bottom of his cock.

He doesn't push all the way into you, stopping about three-fourths of the length of his cock before rocking his hips backward, pulling out of your mouth.

At the same time, Aggu's hands find themselves at the waistband of your skirt, slowly pulling it down to your mid thighs, your panties following shortly after.

Aggu mumbles something in German, but from the tone of his voice, you can assume whatever he had to say was good. His palms find there way to the back of your thighs, both his thumbs pressing against your cunt. The feeling of Aggu touching your already sensitive pussy causes you to whimper, sending vibrations down the length of Joost's cock as he pushes himself back into your mouth, making him mutter.

Using his thumbs Aggu spreads your folds, then running a single thumb through your arousal, teasing slightly. As his thumb just barely hovers over your entrance you instinctively rock back, wanting to feel him inside you.

"Joost was right, you are impatient." He teases, "Lucky for you, I can't wait any longer."

You're unable to respond, not as the most of the length of Joost's cock is down your mouth, tip teasing your throat. Both Joost and Aggu at once already felt all to overwhelming, and Aggu wasn't even inside of you yet.

You jolt forward once you feel the tip of Aggu's dick, slip through your folds, gathering your wetness. Your sharp movement forward forcing Joost further down your throat, causing you to gag and quickly pull back.

"Careful," Joost warns, "Don't need to take so much." Despite the dirty situation you're in, Joost's caution to keep you comfortable is oddly heartwarming, only urging you to want to pleasure him further.

With no warning from Aggu, he pushes into you, causing you to once again moan around Joost.

"Fuck," Aggu mumbles, already seeming content, with just the tip inside of you. With a strong grip on your waist, feeling like his fingers are about to bruise your soft skin, Aggu continues to push his hips forward, slowly allowing you to take him. Your eyes shut tight as you stretch around his length, your fingers gripping the comforter at the initial sensation.

Both you and Aggu let out a deep breath as he bottoms out into you, having finally adjusted to him. Just as slow as he pushed into you, Aggu rocks his hips back, pulling out, allowing you to feel all of him against your walls.

Aggu groans, "So good," He sighs, "Already is perfect, sweetie." He thrusts into you again, a little harsher this time now that you've adjusted to him. His thrusts push you further onto Joost's cock as he's attempting to pull out of you, causing Joost to pause for a moment, allowing each of their paces to adjust to match each other, so they aren't playing an awkward game of tug-of-war with your body.

After a few strokes each of them are able to synchronize with each other, both of them fucking into you, and pulling out at the same time.

Your knees are already weak, your wrists sore from the position you're holding yourself in. Every single sensation feels all too overwhelming, you could just collapse right then and there, into a trembling mess on the bed. Though you won't give up so easily, needing at the very least to be fucked by Joost too, no matter how bad you'll be squirming and whimpering under him.

Joost soon begins to lose pace with Aggu, his breathing becoming more present, his heaves in and out filling the room. You're sure he's going to be finishing down your throat any second, but in a move that surprises you, he entirely pulls out of your mouth with a final groan. The action forces you to look up at him, wondering why he had decided to stop. His lips are parted, glasses slipping down his nose as he looks down at you, you can see his eyes full of lust even through thick lenses.

You pout slightly, your gaze being enough of a question to prompt an answer from Joost,

"Focus on Aggu, liefje," He urges, chin cocking upward in Aggu's direction, "Didn't want to spoil my turn with you." His mouth quirks up in a smirk. Lazily, you nod, unable to even really think about that now, not as Aggu slams into you at a now more vigorous pace,

"Might get that turn soon," Aggu grunts, his tone indicating a clenched jaw and gritted teeth. The sound of Joost's breathing escapes your ears, now only able to focus on the filthy noises Aggu's movements produce. The sounds of your slick coating Aggu's cock with each thrust, the smacking of his hips to your ass, his low grunts and your strangled moans, it makes the booming music from downstairs sound like nothing more than a dull whisper.

Joost looks down at the two of you in amusement,

"You're so good," He beams, "She's good isn't she?" His question pointed towards Aggu

"Fucking perfect," He agrees, "So wet and warm," His palms tighten on your waist, "Pussy squeezing me just right."

You're drunk on their simple praises, and as Aggu's newfound grip on you only pulls you further back onto his cock, you're unsure of how much longer you'll be able to hold off. With each forward thrust Aggu hits the perfect spot inside of you, fucking you like he knew your body intimately.

"Aggu," You sigh, "I think-"

"Uh-uh." Aggu tuts, cutting you off, "You can't"

His small command is enough to almost bring tears to your eyes, unsure you could control your impending orgasm at all.

"I'm sure Joost would much prefer if you'd make a mess on him instead," Aggu coos, "Think about that, baby, could you hold on for him?"

You can't make any promises, but an unsteady hum of agreement leaves your lips, your fingers digging so hard into the comforter they ache.

"Don't worry," He breathes, "I'm almost there." The slaps of his thighs against yours losing a rhythm, his strokes becoming long and lazy. You're almost there too, and as you clench your jaw and shut your eyes you can only hope that he finishes quick enough that you don't have enough time to reach your orgasm.

And in almost an instant your wish is granted, Aggu reaching his orgasm with a drawn out groan. He stops thrusting, keeping himself bottomed out in you, his hips pressed right against your ass as he finishes into you, warm ropes of cum coating your walls. He can't keep his balance much longer, nearly folding over on top of you as his chest rises and falls against your back.

Your pussy clenches around him, aching at the now lack of stimulation. Aggu steadies himself, placing his hands on either side of you to relieve some of the weight on your back. As Aggu regains his composure he places small, slow kisses to your shoulders, before slowly lifting him self up.

You whimper as Aggu slowly pulls out of you, feeling his release drip down your folds.

"All yours," Aggu lets out a low chuckle, "I'll leave you two lovebirds alone once I catch my breath."

Lovebirds didn't exactly seem like an apt word for you and Joost now, but still the phrase brings a slight warmth to your cheeks.

Joost chuckles back, his palm finding your cheek,

"You need a minute?" He rubs soft circles to your lips with his thumb.

"N-no," You stutter out, truthfully, needing him as soon as possible. Despite Aggu stopping, you know the second Joost touches you'll be close again once more, and you're desperate for your orgasm.

"Okay" He whispers, "Get on your back, liefje. Lay against the pillows."

You let out a sigh of relief at Joost's preferred position, at least letting you relax into the bed. Your legs slightly confined by your clothing still pulled at your thighs, you slowly crawl up the bed, turning over to lean against the thick, surely unnecessarily expensive pillows.

You return your vision to Aggu once more who's slipping his belt back through the loops on his jeans, then ruffling a hand through his hair, his composure mostly regained by now. A large grin spreads against his face, "Enjoy your night." He winks towards the two of you, leaving the room.

"Is that Aggu's idea of playing matchmaker?" You let out a tiny laugh. Joost chuckles in return, furrowing his eyebrows,

"Yeah- I-uh think so. Is there a match here to be made?" Joost moves closer to you, a hand pressed against your thigh. His words make you tense,

"I don't know," You sigh, "Was pretty mean of you to ignore me when you got here tonight." You're half teasing, half serious.

"Ignore you?" He asks, an eyebrow raising.

You let your lip fall in an exaggerated pout, nodding.

"Oh," He whines, almost mockingly, "I'm sorry," He shakes his head, "I didn't hurt your feelings." His hand raises higher up your thigh, "Arme meisje." (Poor girl)

His patronization is sweet in an odd sort of way, knowing that beneath his mocking exterior he is actually apologizing for ignoring you.

"Let me make it up to you now, hm?"

"I'd like that." You breathe out, settling further onto the pillows.

Joost smirks, "I'll do that then," His hands finding the waistband of both your skirt and panties, slipping them down the rest of the length of your legs. Once the remainder of your clothes are discarded, Joost works on his own, pulling the white graphic t-shirt he wears slipping over his head. He's just as gorgeous as you remember, wanting nothing more than to feel every inch of his soft flesh. You marvel at his half-naked body, littered with tiny tattoos.

"Come here," You whine, needing him closer.

Joost obliges, leaning forward to hover over you, his hands placed on either side of your body. You're close enough to kiss him now, and you want to, straining your neck to life your head up so your lips can meet his. Joost gets the memo, saving you the strain and lowering his head just enough until your lips touch. You forego small pecks, immediately engaging him in a passionate kiss, one that only riles you up further. You can just barely taste yourself on his tongue, causing you to groan into this kiss as you steady yourself with your hands to push forward and deepen it. His lips are soft against yours, it feels good, you wonder briefly if it would be possible for him to make you cum just by kissing you,

The two of your are already so worked up, wordlessly agreeing to skip the teasing and foreplay as Joost taps your knee, urging you to bend your legs for him. You agree, getting a small glimpse of how sore your muscles will be tomorrow as you move your legs.

Joost breaks the kiss to sit up and watch as he lines himself up with your entrance. He's positioned between your legs, resting on his knees, grabbing the base of his cock.

"Ready?" He sighs, the tip sliding through your folds, causing your body to tremble, pussy fluttering. He only needs a nod from you to begin, pushing into you.

Immediately the pressure is building up inside of you, and with the way that Joost groans above you you know that neither of you are about to last particularly long.

Like Aggu, is first strokes are slow, getting you used to the way you stretch around him. Though it's hard to keep a slow pace as he slips against your walls, slick with a mixture of his saliva, your arousal, and Aggu's release. Soon enough his thrusts build up force, immediately pumping himself into that perfect spot inside you.

You're taken back to that first night the two of you hooked up, his prior experience with you only making him more skillful with his thrusts.

With the pace he builds up with his thrusts, his glasses slip all the way off his face, lightening the dirty moment with a small laugh from both of you as they land on your chest.

"Sorry," He chuckles. You grab the glasses from your chest, gently placing them beside you on the bed.

"Don't be," You grin, "Just a testament to how hard you're working."

And working hard he was, the both of you drinking in the sensation of each other.

"Fuck, liefje," He groans, "You're even better than I remember."

You have to admit you feel the same, as hard as you had tried in the last months to remember the sensation he brought you, nothing could top the real thing.

"Fuck how am I supposed to go back to the Netherlands without this." He cracks a small laugh.

"Guess you'll have to take me with you." You tease,

"Don't tempt me, baby. I'll have you on the next flight out there."

Your briefly imagine the prospect, it was hot, being reckless in such a way, leaving your whole life for some dick, though you couldn't put it past yourself.

With another stroke, your jaw clenches, your body suddenly feeling much tighter than before, a sharp sensation building between your thighs.

"I think I'm close," You're disappointed you aren't able to hold out much longer, but with all the anticipation of the night, you can't exactly blame yourself.

"Good," He exhales, "Good, that's okay, make a mess on my cock baby. I'm close too."

You cannot deny him of that, not when he clearly wants it so bad. His thrusts become more pointed as he reaches his orgasm, they're sharp, and small, barely taking the time to pull out by any substantial length before shoving himself back inside of you. He leans forward a little more, hitting into you at a new angle, the base of his cock dragging against your clit as he pulls out. The newfound sensation is enough to throw you over the edge with ease.

A few pathetic curses leave your mouth, before your vision starts to blur, your orgasm gripping control of your entire body, dulling all of your other senses.

"I'm cumming- fuckfuck." You whine, your pussy beginning to spasm around the length of Joost's cock, gripping him just right to send him into orgasm.

"Shit," He grits, "Me too," His movements sloping entirely as his release starts to pour into you.

Your body trembles under him, tingling with complete and utter pleasure as the two of you both ride out your highs, uncontrollable smiles plastered on both of your faces.

With a few final pumps Joost collapses on top of you, trying his best to keep the full weight of his body off of your chest. Though the weight of him on top of you is comforting, especially as you wrap around your arms around him, his naked flesh sticky with sweat. Despite him being inside of you, you still desire to feel him closer.

A familiar feeling creeps into you, one you cannot tell if it is good or bad, but you know tonight will only force the crush you had developed on Joost in the last year to become more insatiable. You had gotten lucky tonight with Aggu deciding to get between the two of you, but now you needed to figure out on your own how you could possibly make him yours.

"So," You sigh, "Still willing to be my tour guide?"

#joost klein x reader #joost klein x f! reader #joost klein rpf #ski aggu x reader #rpf #joost klein #ski aggu

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tulipatheticee · 2 months

Note

Hi! I had an idea of Eloise x fem reader, reader being Queen Charlotte’s daughter. They get caught together, and readers mother suggests marriage. With that Eloise and reader start the acceptance of the same sex love/marriage.

love story e.b

eloise bridgerton x queen charlottes daughter! reader

synopsis; In the heart of Regency London, Princess Y/N, daughter of Queen Charlotte, and Eloise Bridgerton find themselves entangled in a clandestine romance amidst the glittering balls and gossip of high society. Their love defies conventions and faces scrutiny, ultimately prompting Queen Charlotte to propose a marriage that could change society's perception of same-sex love forever.

word count; 5.3k

master list

a/n; i went a little ham on this one, i was not joking when i said wlw unlocks something inside of me

as always, kinda proof read, kinda not :p

So I sneak out to the garden to see you

We keep quiet, 'cause we're dead if they knew

So close your eyes

Escape this town for a little while, oh oh

In the bustling midst of London’s social season, Queen Charlotte's daughter, Princess y/n, found herself at the centre of attention. Raised amidst the pomp and protocol of high society, she was no stranger to the expectations placed upon her. Attending debutante events was simply another facet of her role as the queen's daughter—a duty performed with grace and an impeccably polished facade.

It was at one such event, a gathering of debutantes adorned in their finest, where y/n first noticed her. Eloise Bridgerton, amidst the sea of hopefuls vying for attention, stood out not just for her striking beauty but for an air of defiance that seemed to hover around her like an invisible shield. Eloise, with her quick wit and sharp tongue, had garnered a reputation as the most outspoken and unconventional of the Bridgerton siblings—a title she wore proudly, much to her mother Violet's simultaneous exasperation and admiration.

From across the room, y/n observed as Eloise engaged in animated conversation with other debutantes. There was a sparkle in her eye and a hint of mischief in her smile that drew y/n's attention irresistibly. Eloise's laughter, free and unbridled, cut through the polite chatter of the event like a breath of fresh air in a stuffy room. For a moment, y/n found herself captivated, her gaze lingering longer than was strictly polite.

Meanwhile, Eloise, amidst the whirl of introductions and compliments, couldn't help but notice the queen's daughter. Elegant and composed, y/n exuded a quiet confidence that commanded attention without demanding it. Unlike the other debutantes who fluttered around Eloise, y/n stood apart, observing with an intensity that hinted at a keen intellect beneath her composed exterior.

Their eyes met briefly across the room—a fleeting moment charged with unspoken curiosity and intrigue. It was a simple exchange, unnoticed by the swirling crowd around them but leaving an indelible impression on both Eloise and y/n. In that brief encounter, something stirred, a silent recognition that hinted at possibilities yet unexplored.

The grand presentation at the Palace was a spectacle to behold. The ballroom was adorned with glittering chandeliers and opulent decorations, filled with the crème de la crème of London society. Eloise stood in line, fidgeting with her gloves as she prepared to be introduced. Her mother gave her a reassuring smile.

“Stand tall, Eloise,” Violet whispered. “This is your moment.”

As Eloise stepped forward, she caught a clearer sight of Princess Y/N, standing beside her mother. Their eyes met once again across the room, and for a moment, the world seemed to stop. Y/N’s gaze was warm and inviting, a stark contrast to the intimidating grandeur of the palace. Eloise felt an inexplicable pull towards her, something she couldn’t quite understand.

Just as Eloise was about to be presented, the attention of the room shifted abruptly. The queens guards charging through the doors, whispers of “Lady Whistledown '' spread like wildfire, next thing you know, the queen is declaring she's seen enough and everyone is dismissed and Eloise found herself relieved of the spotlight as gossip overtook the ceremony. The mysterious writer had once again stolen the show, and Eloise couldn’t help but feel a sense of gratitude for the diversion.

'Cause you were Romeo, I was a scarlet letter

And my daddy said, "Stay away from Juliet"

But you were everything to me

I was beggin' you, "Please don't go, " and I said

The opulent ballroom of Lady Danbury's estate shimmered with the flicker of candlelight and the murmur of polite conversation. Eloise Bridgerton, dressed in an exquisite gown of deep emerald silk that Lady Danbury had insisted upon, moved gracefully amidst the crowd, her gaze sweeping over the assembly of London's elite.

The event was a dazzling affair, attended by the highest echelons of society, each guest meticulously adorned in their finest attire. Yet amidst the glittering array of guests, Eloise's eyes sought out a familiar figure—Princess y/n, who stood with Queen Charlotte, radiating an air of quiet elegance that set her apart from the throng of debutantes.

Eloise couldn't deny the flutter of anticipation in her chest as she made her way towards y/n, navigating the maze of guests with practiced ease. Her heart raced with a mixture of nerves and excitement, unsure of how their conversation at Queen Charlotte's debutante event would influence their interaction tonight.

Meanwhile, y/n observed the revelry with a regal composure, her gaze occasionally drifting towards Eloise amidst the swirl of dancers and the lilting strains of the orchestra. The princess was acutely aware of the scrutiny she faced as Queen Charlotte’s daughter—the expectations of duty and decorum that shadowed her every move. Yet amidst the splendour of the ballroom, y/n found herself drawn to Eloise’s spirited presence and unguarded authenticity.

Violet Bridgerton, determined to secure another diamond among her brood, guided Eloise through the throng of guests towards the queen and y/n. Eloise, begrudgingly adorned in an elegant gown befitting her station, maintained a facade of polite disinterest as Violet introduced her to the queen and her daughter.

"Your Majestys, may I present my daughter, Eloise Bridgerton," Violet announced with practised grace.

Y/n, acknowledging the introduction with a nod, offered a polite smile that barely concealed her curiosity. "A pleasure to meet you, Miss Bridgerton," she greeted eloquently, her voice carrying a warmth that belied her royal stature.

Eloise, though outwardly composed, felt a rush of nerves mingled with an unexpected flutter of excitement. She had anticipated the formality of the introduction, yet y/n's presence seemed to alter the air around her, making her acutely aware of every gesture and fleeting expression.

"Likewise, Your Highness," Eloise replied with a hint of her trademark wit, a small smirk playing at the corner of her lips. "Though I must admit, I am more accustomed to lively debates than royal audiences."

Y/n's smile widened subtly, a glint of amusement in her eyes. "I look forward to those debates, Miss Bridgerton," she replied in kind, a gentle challenge underlying her words.

The exchange, though brief, left an impression on both women. For Eloise, accustomed to the constraints of societal expectations, y/n represented a refreshing departure—an enigma wrapped in regal poise and quiet strength. And for y/n, intrigued by Eloise's spirited demeanor and quick intellect, the encounter ignited a curiosity that lingered long after the ball had ended.

Romeo, take me somewhere we can be alone

I'll be waiting, all there's left to do is run

You'll be the prince and I'll be the princess

It's a love story, baby, just say, "Yes"

As the evening progressed, Eloise and y/n’s paths collided again near the elaborate dessert table adorned with crystal bowls of sugared fruits and delicate pastries. Eloise, emboldened by Lady Danbury’s encouraging nod from across the room, approached y/n with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes, nerves tingling beneath her skin.

“Your Highness,” Eloise greeted warmly, her voice betraying a hint of nervousness despite her best efforts to appear composed.

y/n turned towards Eloise with a gracious smile, her eyes alight with genuine interest. “Miss Bridgerton,” y/n replied with a nod of acknowledgment, noting the subtle tension in Eloise’s stance.

Their conversation flowed with the ease of familiarity yet tinged with the underlying currents of unspoken desire and mutual intrigue. They exchanged pleasantries about the music, the decorations, and the latest society gossip, each word carrying a weight of unspoken meaning that hung between them like an invisible thread.

Eloise, ever the conversationalist, couldn’t resist steering the discussion towards a topic that had intrigued her since their first meeting. “Your Highness, I must admit, I found your observations on the latest literary sensation quite captivating,” she remarked, her tone light yet tinged with curiosity.

y/n chuckled softly, appreciating Eloise’s intellect and the genuine interest she showed in their previous conversation. “Ah, but Miss Bridgerton, I fear my views on literature may not always align with conventional wisdom,” y/n replied with a playful glint in her eyes.

Eloise leaned in slightly, her gaze locking with y/n’s in a moment of shared understanding. “Isn’t that the beauty of literature, Your Highness? It allows us to explore different perspectives and challenge our own beliefs,” she countered, her voice laced with a mixture of admiration and genuine curiosity.

Their banter continued late into the night, punctuated by shared laughter and stolen glances that hinted at a connection deeper than mere friendship. For Eloise, y/n represented a kindred spirit—a beacon of hope amidst the rigid expectations of London society. She found herself drawn to y/n’s quiet strength and unwavering authenticity, traits that resonated deeply with Eloise’s own aspirations and struggles.

In those stolen moments between dances, y/n found herself captivated by Eloise’s infectious enthusiasm and fierce determination. She admired Eloise’s courage to challenge societal norms and speak her mind, qualities that set her apart from the polished facades of London’s debutantes.

As the evening drew to a close, Eloise reluctantly bid y/n farewell with a promise to meet again soon. Their parting left y/n with a lingering warmth in her heart—a feeling that defied the constraints of duty and hinted at the possibility of something more.

Romeo, save me, they're tryna tell me how to feel

This love is difficult, but it's real

Don't be afraid, we'll make it out of this mess

It's a love story, baby, just say, "Yes"

Eloise and y/n found themselves entangled in a web of conflicting emotions and societal expectations. Despite the undeniable chemistry that sparked between them at Lady Danbury's grand ball, both struggled to come to terms with their growing attraction.

In the days that followed the ball, Eloise couldn't shake the memory of y/n's enchanting smile and the way her eyes lit up with intelligence and charm. She found herself stealing glances at y/n across crowded ballrooms, each stolen glance fueling a mix of excitement and apprehension.

Meanwhile, y/n wrestled with her own tumultuous emotions. As Queen Charlotte's daughter, she was keenly aware of the scrutiny her actions faced. The prospect of scandal and disgrace haunted her thoughts, casting a shadow over her budding friendship with Eloise.

Their paths crossed again at another glittering social event, where Violet Bridgerton, ever the matchmaker, introduced Eloise to y/n in hopes of sparking a connection. Eloise's heart raced as she exchanged pleasantries with y/n, their conversation laced with a subtle undercurrent of tension and curiosity.

Later that evening, as they found themselves alone in a quiet corner of the ballroom, y/n couldn't help but voice her uncertainties. "Miss Bridgerton, do you ever feel... conflicted?" she asked tentatively, her voice betraying a hint of vulnerability.

Eloise hesitated, her mind racing with unspoken thoughts. "I... I suppose I do," she admitted softly, her gaze searching y/n's face for any sign of understanding. "This world we live in—it's so... unforgiving."

y/n nodded in silent agreement, her fingers nervously toying with the fabric of her gown. "Sometimes I wonder if... if we're meant to feel this way," she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper.

Eloise reached out, her touch gentle yet reassuring. "I don't have all the answers, Princess," she admitted, her voice tinged with uncertainty. "But I know that when I'm with you, everything feels... different."

Their conversation was interrupted by the arrival of Lady Danbury, who swept y/n away to greet other guests. Eloise watched as Lady Danbury whisked y/n away, her heart sinking with each step that carried them farther apart. Alone in the bustling ballroom, she found herself drawn to a quiet alcove, seeking refuge from the swirl of conversations and glittering chandeliers.

Leaning against a draped curtain, Eloise closed her eyes and let out a quiet sigh. Thoughts of y/n consumed her mind, their unfinished conversation lingering like an unspoken promise in the air.

She traced the intricate pattern of her gown absentmindedly, her thoughts drifting back to y/n's earnest question. Do you ever feel... conflicted? And back to her own comment before the conversation ended, when I'm with you, everything feels... different. How would y/n have responded to that? Did she feel the same way, or was Eloise's heart leading her down a path fraught with uncertainty?

The memory of y/n's smile flickered in her mind—the way it lit up the room, reaching out to Eloise like a beacon in the darkness of societal expectations. They had danced around the edges of something profound, something that could alter the course of their lives forever.

Lost in her reverie, Eloise was startled by the sound of approaching footsteps. She turned to find Benedict Bridgerton, his expression a mix of concern and curiosity. "Sister, are you all right?" he asked gently, his voice breaking through her thoughts.

Eloise managed a faint smile, though her heart still raced with unanswered questions. "I'm fine, Benedict," she replied, her voice tinged with a hint of melancholy. "Just... lost in thought."

Benedict studied her for a moment, his gaze searching. "Is it about the Princess?" he ventured cautiously, knowing his sister well enough to sense when something weighed heavily on her mind.

Eloise nodded slowly, unable to suppress a sigh. "Yes," she admitted quietly. "We were... talking. About feelings, I suppose."

Benedict arched an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. "Feelings?" he echoed, prompting Eloise to elaborate.

"I told her... how I feel when I'm with her," Eloise confessed, her voice barely above a whisper. "But then Lady Danbury interrupted us, and I never got to find out how she feels."

Understanding dawned in Benedict's eyes as he took in Eloise's words. He reached out, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Eloise, you know what they say about the young Princess," he said gently. "She's smart, perceptive. She'll understand."

Eloise managed a weak smile, grateful for her brother's reassurance. "I hope so," she murmured, her thoughts still lingering on y/n's last words to her.

As the ballroom bustled around them, Benedict offered his arm to Eloise. "Shall we join the others?" he suggested, his tone lightening with an attempt to lift her spirits.

Eloise nodded, drawing a deep breath to steady herself. "Yes, let's," she agreed, linking her arm with Benedict's. Together, they returned to the lively gathering, though Eloise's thoughts remained with y/n—wondering, hoping, and silently yearning for their next conversation.

I got tired of waiting

Wondering' if you were ever comin' around

My faith in you was fading

When I met you on the outskirts of town, and I said

Days passed after the interrupted conversation at Lady Danbury's ball, each one stretching with anticipation and uncertainty for Eloise. She found herself eagerly attending every social event in hopes of catching another glimpse of y/n, her heart skipping a beat whenever their paths crossed across the crowded rooms.

It was at a smaller, more intimate gathering hosted by the Featheringtons that Eloise finally saw y/n again. The evening was alive with music and laughter, the air fragrant with the scent of gardenias and the promise of summer.

Eloise stood near the refreshment table, feigning interest in the punch bowl as she discreetly watched y/n across the room. y/n was engaged in conversation with Dowager Violet Bridgerton, their laughter mingling with the tinkling of crystal glasses.

Summoning her courage, Eloise took a deep breath and approached them. "Excuse me, Mama, may I steal the Princess away for a moment?" she asked politely, her voice betraying none of the nervousness fluttering in her chest.

Violets eyes flickered mischievously as she glanced knowingly between Eloise and y/n. "Of course, Eloise," she replied with a knowing smile. "Take her—though I warn you, Her Royal Highness has been entertaining us all evening with her wit."

Eloise felt a rush of relief and gratitude towards her mother as y/n turned towards her, her expression lighting up with surprise and delight. "Miss Bridgerton," y/n greeted warmly, setting down her glass to face her fully. "I didn't expect to see you here tonight."

Eloise swallowed nervously, suddenly feeling the weight of her confession at Lady Danbury's ball. But still she continued to escort the Princess through the crowd until they were outside in the garden, under the nights sky, completely alone.

"I wanted to apologise for our conversation being cut short," she began earnestly, meeting y/n's gaze with sincerity. "I... I meant what I said. About how I feel when I'm with you."

y/n's smile softened, her eyes holding a hint of something that made Eloise's heart skip a beat. "Miss Bridgerton,,," y/n replied softly, her voice barely above a whisper amidst the lively chatter around them. "I've been thinking about that conversation too."

Relief flooded through Eloise as she took a step closer to y/n, their proximity sparking a warmth that spread through her veins. "Really?" she asked, unable to contain the hope in her voice.

y/n nodded, her expression gentle yet filled with a quiet intensity that mirrored Eloise's own feelings. "Yes, really," she confirmed, her hand reaching out to gently touch Eloise's arm. "I didn't get to answer then, but... I feel something too."

Eloise's heart soared at y/n's words, her fears and uncertainties momentarily forgotten in the rush of emotions. "I'm glad," she murmured softly, her gaze locked with y/n's. "I wasn't sure how you'd feel, or... if we could even..."

Before she could finish, y/n leaned in closer, her lips brushing against Eloise's cheek in a tender gesture that sent a shiver down Eloise's spine. "I want to find out," y/n whispered, her breath warm against Eloise's ear. "If we could be something more."

Eloise's breath caught in her throat as she gazed into y/n's eyes, seeing her own hopes reflected back at her. Without hesitation, she reached up to cup y/n's cheek, her thumb caressing the soft skin beneath her touch. "I want that too, Your Highness" Eloise admitted softly, her voice filled with newfound courage and longing.

Y/N smilied, her eyes lighting up. “Please, call me Y/N. Titles are so tiresome, don’t you think?”

Eloise laughed softly. “Very much so. I find this entire season tiresome.”

In that stolen moment amidst the music and the soft glow of candlelight, Eloise and y/n leaned closer together, their lips meeting in a gentle kiss that spoke volumes of unspoken promises and the beginning of a love that dared to defy convention.

As they pulled away, breathless and smiling, Eloise felt a weight lift from her shoulders. Here, in the embrace of y/n's presence, she found not only acceptance but also the beginning of a journey she never dared to imagine—a journey of love, bravery, and the courage to be true to oneself.

They walked together in the garden, the conversation flowing easily. Eloise was captivated by Y/N’s intelligence and wit, and Y/N found Eloise’s rebellious spirit refreshing. As days turned into weeks, their friendship deepened, but so did the confusion. Can this go on forever?

Romeo, save me, I've been feeling so alone

I keep waiting for you, but you never come

Is this in my head? I don't know what to think

The sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm golden glow over the gardens of Bridgerton House. Eloise and y/n sat side by side on the swings, their feet lightly touching the ground, pushing back and forth in a gentle rhythm. The air was filled with the scent of blooming roses and the distant hum of London’s bustle, now just a distant murmur.

"I never imagined finding such peace in the heart of London," y/n remarked softly, her voice barely above a whisper as she swayed back and forth. Her eyes wandered over the garden, where vibrant blooms danced in the gentle breeze, their colours vivid against the backdrop of the setting sun.

Eloise, her legs stretched out in front of her, kicked lightly against the earth to keep the swing moving. "It's my favourite place to escape," she said, a small smile playing on her lips as she glanced at y/n. "Thank you for visiting me here."

Y/n turned to Eloise, her gaze filled with an unspoken tenderness. "I wouldn't want to be anywhere else," she replied, her voice filled with sincerity. She reached out, her hand finding Eloise’s, their fingers intertwining effortlessly. The simple touch sent a jolt of warmth through them, grounding them in their shared moment.

A comfortable silence settled over them, the only sounds the creak of the swings and the rustling of leaves in the gentle breeze. Eloise closed her eyes for a moment, savouring the serenity of the garden and the presence of y/n beside her.

"Do you ever wonder what the future holds for us?" y/n asked softly, her voice filled with curiosity as she turned to Eloise, who was still lost in the quiet of the moment.

Eloise opened her eyes, her gaze drifting towards the horizon where the sun was painting the sky in hues of pink and gold. "I used to worry about it," she admitted, her fingers absently tracing patterns on y/n’s palm. "But now... I like to think that as long as we're together, we can face anything."

Y/n's smile was gentle, her eyes reflecting the twilight’s colours as she leaned her head against Eloise’s shoulder. "I believe that too," she murmured, her voice steady with a quiet confidence. "We'll navigate this world together, Eloise."

In the tranquil embrace of Bridgerton House's garden, surrounded by the beauty of nature and the blossoming love between them, Eloise and y/n found solace in each other’s company. The swings moved back and forth, a gentle testament to their growing bond, anchoring them in a love that defied expectations and embraced the courage to live authentically.

He knelt to the ground and pulled out a ring

And said, "Marry me, Juliet

You'll never have to be alone

One afternoon in the opulent drawing room of the palace, y/n sat with Eloise, their conversation light and filled with quiet laughter. The warmth of the fire crackled in the background, casting flickering shadows on the richly adorned walls. Y/n leaned close to Eloise, sharing a private moment, both girls peppering kisses over each other's faces, enjoying the feeling of being in each other's embraces.

Unbeknownst to them, Queen Charlotte had returned earlier than expected, her steps muffled by the thick carpet. She paused in the doorway, her sharp eyes catching the intimate exchange between y/n and Eloise. For a moment, she simply observed, her mind racing with the implications.

"Miss Bridgerton!" Queen Charlotte's voice cut through the air, startling both young women. Eloise turned pale, her heart sinking as she realised they had been caught. Y/n sat frozen, her eyes wide with apprehension.

"Mother," y/n stammered, attempting to gather her thoughts. "I can explain—"

Queen Charlotte held up a hand, her expression unreadable. "There is no need for explanations, my dear. It seems the situation has clarified itself." She stepped further into the room, her gaze shifting between y/n and Eloise.

Eloise stood, her nerves taut with uncertainty. "Your Majesty, please understand—"

"I understand more than you might realise," Queen Charlotte interrupted gently, her tone softening slightly. She approached Eloise, studying her with a discerning eye. "Miss Bridgerton, do you care for my daughter?"

Eloise swallowed hard, meeting Queen Charlotte's gaze squarely. "Yes, Your Majesty," she admitted, her voice steady despite her nerves.

"And you, y/n?" Queen Charlotte turned to her daughter, her expression softening. "How do you feel about Miss Bridgerton?"

Eloise hesitated for a moment, then took a deep breath. "Mother, I... I care for Eloise deeply. More than I ever thought possible."

Queen Charlotte nodded, her features reflecting a mix of concern and contemplation. "Love comes in many forms," she said finally, her voice carrying wisdom earned through years of navigating societal expectations. "It is clear to me that your feelings are genuine."

Eloise blinked back tears, overwhelmed by her mother's unexpected understanding. Y/n reached out, gently squeezing Eloise's hand in silent support.

“But regardless, you both are participating in acts only those who are married should be. I will not accept a scandal.”

"Mama, what should we do? We can’t imagine life apart!" y/n asked, her voice tinged with hope and apprehension.

Queen Charlotte smiled softly, a glimmer of amusement in her eyes. "Perhaps it is time we consider a different kind of arrangement," she mused, her mind already formulating a plan. "One that will allow you both to live authentically, without the confines of societal scandals, the only right choice in these conditions." She paused (dramatic effect no?)

“Marriage.”

And so, in that serene drawing room of the palace, a new chapter began for y/n and Eloise—a chapter marked by acceptance, love, and the courage to challenge tradition.

I love you and that's all I really know

I talked to your dad, go pick out a white dress

It's a love story, baby, just say, "Yes"

In the warm, inviting drawing room of Bridgerton House, Eloise nervously clasped y/n's hand. The flickering candlelight cast dancing shadows on the walls, adding an air of solemnity to the moment. Around them, the Bridgertons—Anthony, Benedict, Colin, Daphne, and the younger siblings—gathered, curiosity etched on their faces.

Eloise took a deep breath, her heart racing with a mix of excitement and apprehension. "I... We have something to share," she began, her voice steady despite the butterflies in her stomach.

Anthony, ever the observant eldest brother, arched an eyebrow. "Go on, Eloise. What is it?"

Eloise glanced at y/n, drawing strength from their presence. "y/n and I... We've decided to take a step forward together. We're engaged."

There was a collective gasp of surprise from her family. Daphne's eyes widened, her hand instinctively reaching for Benedict's. Benedict leaned back in his chair, a grin spreading across his face. Colin adjusted himself, trying to process the unexpected news.

With the initial shock beginning to subside, the Bridgertons exchanged bewildered glances, each processing the news in their own way.

"Wait, you two are... engaged?" Colin asked, his voice filled with surprise.

Daphne, recovering from her initial shock, spoke gently. "But... how? I mean, are you even allowed to... marry?"

Eloise smiled, a touch of defiance in her eyes. "Yes, Daphne. Queen Charlotte herself has given us her blessing."

Colin, adjusting to the news, nodded thoughtfully. "I see. It's certainly unconventional, but if Her Majesty approves..."

Anthony, ever the pragmatist, chimed in. "Well, then. It seems we are in uncharted territory, but as long as you're both certain..."

Eloise and y/n exchanged a glance, their bond palpable. "We are," y/n affirmed softly.

"Eloise, are you certain about this?" Francesca asked, her voice tinged with concern.

Eloise nodded, her gaze unwavering. "Yes, Francesca. I've never been more certain about anything in my life."

Benedict, always the voice of reason, spoke up next. "Well, this is quite unexpected, but if it's what makes you both happy..."

Hyacinth interjected, unable to contain her excitement. "Eloise, this is incredible news! I didn't think you'd ever settle down."

Anthony, who had been silently observing, finally spoke. "Eloise, Princess Y/N, if this is your decision, then you have my support. Always."

Eloise squeezed y/n's hand tighter, feeling a wave of relief wash over her. "Thank you, Anthony."

As the evening wore on, the atmosphere shifted from confusion to acceptance. The Bridgertons, while initially taken aback, found themselves embracing Eloise and y/n's decision. It was a moment that marked not only a new chapter in Eloise's life but also a testament to the changing times—a time when love was beginning to transcend boundaries and expectations.

Outside, the bustling city of London continued its rhythmic pulse, unaware of the quiet revolution unfolding within the walls of Bridgerton House—a revolution led by two hearts brave enough to defy convention and choose love, in all its unexpected forms.

'Cause we were both young when I first saw you

Eloise stood by the window of their home, gazing out at the bustling streets of London. It had been nearly a year since their marriage, and the city seemed to hum with a different energy. Change was in the air, and she couldn't help but feel a sense of pride in what she and y/n had accomplished together.

The early morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the room. Beside her, y/n stirred in their sleep, their features softened in the gentle dawn. Eloise smiled fondly, reaching out to brush a lock of hair from y/n's face. They had been through so much together—the secret glances, the stolen kisses, the fear of discovery—and yet, here they were, stronger than ever.

Their marriage had sparked conversations across London society. Some viewed it with curiosity, others with disdain, but Eloise and y/n had found unexpected allies among their peers. Lady Danbury, always a force to be reckoned with, had become a staunch supporter, using her influence to deflect any lingering whispers of scandal.

As Eloise reflected on their journey, she couldn't help but marvel at how far they had come. They had faced challenges and uncertainties, but through it all, their love had remained steadfast. They had created a sanctuary within their home, where they could be themselves without fear of judgement or reprisal.

Outside, the city continued to wake up to a new day. Carriages rumbled past, merchants called out their wares, and London life carried on its bustling rhythm. Eloise turned back to y/n, watching as they stirred awake, their eyes fluttering open to meet hers.

"Good morning," y/n murmured, their voice still laced with sleep.

"Good morning," Eloise replied, leaning in to press a soft kiss to y/n's lips. They shared a quiet moment together, the warmth of their embrace speaking volumes where words fell short.

"I never imagined we'd be here," y/n whispered, their fingers tracing patterns on Eloise's cheek.

"Neither did I," Eloise admitted, her heart swelling with emotion. "But I wouldn't change a thing."

They lay entwined in each other's arms, basking in the simple joy of being together. Outside, the city continued its daily hustle, but in their sanctuary, time seemed to stand still.

In the weeks and months that followed, Eloise and y/n continued to navigate their newfound roles as partners in life and advocates for change. They attended social events hand in hand, their presence a quiet yet powerful statement of love and acceptance. Through their actions, they hoped to pave the way for others who dared to love outside of society's conventions.

Occasionally, they would steal moments alone, away from the prying eyes of society, to remind themselves of the bond they shared. Whether it was a quiet evening at home or a stolen kiss in a secluded corner of a ballroom, every moment together reaffirmed their commitment to each other.

Their love story became a beacon of hope for those who yearned for acceptance and understanding. Slowly but surely, attitudes began to shift. Families whispered their support in drawing rooms, friends offered quiet encouragement over tea, and London society found itself grappling with the idea that love knew no boundaries.

As the years passed, Eloise and y/n's love story continued to unfold, weaving itself into the fabric of London's history. They faced challenges and triumphs together, building a life filled with laughter, companionship, and unwavering devotion.

Eloise often found herself marvelling at the resilience of y/n, their strength and determination a constant source of inspiration. Together, they navigated the complexities of societal expectations and personal desires, forging a path that defied tradition and embraced love in its purest form.

And so, in the quiet moments before dawn, as the city stirred awake outside their window, Eloise held y/n close, knowing that their love had not only changed their lives but had also left an indelible mark on the world around them.

I did not plan the lyrics around an epilogue and ran out HAHA oopsie

a/npt2; AHHH how did you guys feel about this, i tried to mot make it rushed i really wanted to start from the beginging and build their realtionship in a way a oneshot can, ive been considering writing a story once im done with these requests so we can get some better romance building then!!

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heartfeltcherie · 5 months

Note

Lucifer x shy Baker reader

very first lucifer story and i can’t tell if i like it or hate it lol but i hope u guys enjoy it!! :)

☾. °. ࿐ ` , •

sugar. butter. flour.

that’s how most of your days went — baking pastries in one of hell’s finest bakeries, serving regular, everyday sinners, to the fanciest overlords of hell. it was tiring work, starting everything from scratch each and every morning and making sure every bite would be the freshest it could be.

you, yourself, weren’t an overlord — just a normal city goer on the streets of pentagram city, doing your job to make a living. even in hell you’re expected to pay rent; but i guess that’s why it’s called hell.

the door chimes, signalling a customer entering your quiet little bakery that smelled of strawberries and sweetness.

“hello, darling” and there he was — lucifer morningstar, the king of hell, himself. you look up from where you were putting the last of your pies in the display case, your cheeks becoming as red as the strawberries you cut up earlier. “oh, your majesty! hello!” you make your way to the front counter, hoping he doesn’t realize how flustered he makes you merely by his own presence.

oh, he absolutely notices. and it feeds his ego tenfold.

he rests his elbow on the counter, resting his chin on the back of his hand.

“i believe i ordered a dozen of your finest cupcakes. shaped like ducks, to be more precise” you chuckle to yourself — who knew the king of hell would get so much enjoyment out of rubber ducks? “let me go get those for you, your majesty”

“oh, dear, there’s no need for formalities. lucifer’s just fine. especially since i’m in here oh-so often” he looks at you with half lidded eyes, raising his eyebrows at you. he knows exactly what he’s doing to you when he speaks in that tone.

you try not to stumble over your own two feet as you get the fancy pink box that has a clear lid, perfectly displaying his highness’s order. you can feel yourself trying not to shake with nerves because satan, he’s so beautiful. “i’m beginning to think you come in here for more than just the sweets i bake” you place the box with fragile goods down in front of him on the counter. lucifer chuckles at your statement, drawing small circles with his pointer finger on your counter. “oh, really? and what makes you say that, hm?”

“i-i don’t know… maybe it’s just an observation, but you come here more than the regulars. and when you do, you usually strike up a conversation with me for hours on end until i have to tell you we’re closed” you chuckle shyly, recalling the countless times lucifer has come in just to talk to you, or give you so many compliments that turn you into a blushing mess.

you don’t understand why he has specific interest in you; he barely knows you, and you him. only in the fairytales in your mind are happily holding hands together.

“oh! haha! that!” he looks nervous, fiddling with his jacket lapels and wiping none existent dirt off his sleeves, not realizing how many times he’s come in just to see you. but he can’t help it, he’s craving the sweetness you give off of lavender and daydreams that it spins him poetic; and he hopes that maybe one day you’ll let him have a taste (you will). “i suppose you just have a way of… drawing me in, i-i guess”

“i just work here, lucifer… you don’t even know me”

“well then, perhaps we should change that then, don’t you think?” you furrow your eyebrows in confusion, tilting your head like a small puppy. lucifer’s heart nearly beats out of his chest. “what do you mean?”

“i meaaan… come by! a-and share some cupcakes with me! and we can also have tea! or chocolate milk! we don’t even have to have the cupcakes! i can get something made for us! michelin-tasting menu, free à la carte!”

you giggle at his excitement and lucifer swears he could listen to that sound for the rest of eternity.

“i-i get off work at five?” you ask with a shy smile, pink dusting your cheeks at the thought of a date with the man you’ve been crushing on for so long. “then i shall see you then, my dear” he kisses the back of your hand with a gentleness that leaves your head spinning as he picks up the box of duck-shaped cupcakes and walks out of your bakery.

please reblog/comment if you enjoyed my work, it’s greatly appreciated ♡

#❥ lexi’s daydreams #lucifer morningstar #lucifer morningstar x you #lucifer morningstar fanfiction #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer morningstar imagine #hazbin hotel #lucifer hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel fluff #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel fanfiction

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idkfitememate · 9 months

Note

Hi! I was wondering if you could write another part for Otter creator! Like maybe them with Furina and Neuvillette having a tea party or something! (Possibly Wriothesley[?]!!), and they start realising more! (If Wriothesley’s there he should be oblivious for a bit!)

The Otter Chronicles Pt. 1

♡︎ « Next Part ⋙

૮꒰˶ᵔ ᗜ ᵔ˶꒱ა Pairings : GN! Otter Reader x Fontaine

૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა W.K. : 1.3k

໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱ྀི১ Tags/CW&TW : Fluff, yandere-ish behavior (really straining the term here), itty bitty bit of angst

“Tea party, hooray!” It was easy to see that Furina was excited.

Because today was the day for your first REAL tea party. Not just locked in a room with her for a day.

And yes you meant a literal day. Like a whole ass day.

Anyway-

Her and Neuvillette were going to FINALLY take you to meet Wriothesley! Yay! It was just a date to take about some royal officiant bullshit you couldn’t bring yourself to care about, but as per usual, they refused to take you out of their sights.

So here you were, getting all dolled up in Lady Furina’s lap. A new bow tie, a fancier hat, and somehow Otter friendly makeup.

Where they found it? You don’t know. Did they make it? You’re 99.9% sure they had it commissioned. Do you look good with cate eye eyeliner? Hell yes.

You were now being carried in the Otter Pack™️ (a rather large and plush satchel that Neuvillette carried around, filled with lush blankets and pillows and only the FINEST toys for you to play with) with your head sticking out of the top, your fur freshly combed and oiled. Neuvillette’s fingers curled through what wasn’t covered by the hat.

Hell, you even had on some adorable golden and lapis embedded clip on earrings - they wouldn’t dare pierce your ears for fear of hurting you and damaging your hearing.

People cooed at you in your Otter Pack™️ and you sucked that shit up, you were basically drowning in sparkles!~ All the while Furina and Neuvillette spoke above you.

“Are we sure we should bring mon preux chevalier? I mean, naturally we should share their beauty with the world but… in a place filled with criminals..?” Furina spoke in a hushed tone, not wanting you to hear her.

“I understand my Lady, but there is no one to trust to take care of them. Who will give them their favorite treats? Shine their coat? Scratch their tummy? No can do it the way we can, Lady Furina. Besides, we are here for only a Tea Party, it should only last around two hours with the matter we must discuss. Three hours at the latest.” Neuvillette replied. Though in truth, he had just as many issues with the whole situation.

It truly was a shame no one was as capable to take care of their darling Otter as them. *Dramatic sigh in French*

Arriving at the entrance to the Fortress of Meropide, the duo were ushered inside and directly into Wriothesley’s office.

“Lady Furina! Monsieur Neuvillette! How nice it is to have you in humble prison. Please, follow me.” Wriothesley smoothly opened the conversation, leading the duo to his tea table. Finally, he noticed the Otter Pack™️.

“*Ahem* I see we have a… guest?” Wriothesley mused. See he hadn’t been on the surface for a bit, and news travels slow beneath the waves, so had had no clue of the big hydro duo’s new friend.

“Yea. This is Le superviseur officiel du jury du palais de justice de Fontaine. La Loutre de l'Opéra Eclipse*.” Neuvillette responded curtly. You chittered happily at the title you had just been given as off the last trial held. And Wriothesley only sweated at the long title.

“I… see. Anyway, if we are ready to begin…” And with that you stopped listening.

You had been here for barely a few minutes and you were already bored. See, usually with Furina, something would be happening. Something spectacular! Or intriguing! Never had you seen her in such a… boring environment. Hell, you could tell she was bored but you supposed that being an Archon came with other bullshit jobs other than being pretty and revered.

You hopped out of the Otter Pack™️ and snuggled up in Neuvillette’s lap, and noticed the extra teacup in front of you. Chittering, you sniffed and licked at it, then curled up once more.

You were trying to hide your boredom, but seemed to be failing as you felt Neuvillette’s fingers comb through the fur on your back. You basically purred at the affection, before sighing. Furina turned to you and called out to you.

“Mon ange? Are you bored? Well I, Furina, have just the cure!~” She said in a sing-songy tune. After, she waved her hand and in a puff of hydro, Gentilhomme Usher, Surintendante Chevalmarin and Mademoiselle Crabaletta were summoned.

You jumped up, messing up your hat and allowing Neuvillette to fix it, before the four of you jumped up to play. The three swam around you in the air while you followed quickly on the floor, causing the three to laugh. Though, Neuvillette noticed something.

Now, already he and Furina noticed you were smarter than other Otters, being able to understand human speech. You could solve puzzles, and once you had even helped solve a rather hard case! But this was… something else.

Gentilhomme Usher, Surintendante Chevalmarin and Mademoiselle Crabaletta and even Singer of Many Waters could speak… kind of. They had their own little babbly language that only Furina could only understand sometimes, and even then it was rocky. That’s why they mostly acted out their wants and needs with over the top gestures… but you.

An otter.

Could understand them perfectly.

You weren’t the only otter they had been summoned around, but then those otter would run away or stay around in curiosity.

But you could understand everything.

You could understand what a god couldn’t.

And that’s when something inside the Dragon Sovereign clicked.

He had been an avid follower of The Creator. The one Above all. Listening gently to all their false promises of bringing his brethren back. If fixing this world of its problems. He would watch as they only cared for themselves. As they punished anyone who went against them. Punished the innocent. As they lavished in the foods and clothes and jewels bestowed upon them by their followers.

Yet the flowers wouldn’t bloom in their presence. The wind wouldn’t blow gently through their hair. The ground and earth wouldn’t stop its quakes. The water would calm its waves. The lightning wouldn’t slow its descent. The fires wouldn’t lower their flames. The ice wouldn’t smooth over and slow the snow.

In fact, flowers would wilt when around them. The wind would whip into windstorms and the earth would rumble with ferocity. Water would rise to heights uncharted and lightning would strike behind their heels. Flame would rise higher and higher and fill the air with ash and snow would turn to hail, ice turning to sharp points around them.

It was the opposite with their darling Otter. He knew something was… not quite right with them. They always had this feel about them.

The melusine would act weirdly about them. Giving them wider smiles and now that he was thinking about it truly… they seemed to always know what they wanted. Even the Clockwork Meka would bow in their presence. When they swam it was always as though the current would work with them, and fish and other creatures of the sea would always surround them, following behind them… almost like…

A veil.

A veil that matched the one their creator always had on in every art of them.

On any statue.

In any painting.

In any description in every book.

They always had a veil.

And glancing at their beloved otter?

Their blue tuff of fur? They lined their back? Combined with the flowing fabrics of their top hat?

Created a veil.

“Excuse me Wriothesley, me Lady Furina must go discuss something. Please keep an eye on ma moitié for us please.” Neuvillette spoke quickly, gently gripping Furina’s arm as she protested, and they both left the room.

You and the three summons looked at the closing office door, then at Wriothesley. He stared back.

“Uhm… hello there, little otter.”

You only chittered in response.

And as Neuvillette and Furina rounded a corner, the Sovereign pressed a hand to her complaining lips.

“My Lady, firstly, my sincerest apologies for dragging you out here. Secondly, I believe I have made a… shocking discovery about our ˈbābē…” Neuvillette’s voice was hushed, making Furina nervous.

“What.. what do you think you found..?” She asked.

“I believe… our darling Otter… is the true Creator…”

໒꒰ྀི˶˙Ⱉ˙˶꒱ྀིა Author’s note : Hehehehe… How will Furina react to this knowledge? What with Neuvillette do with this information? And will Wriothesley ever get over seeing an Otter so close to his Archon? Tune in next week to find out!~

Anyway, I love this and where it’s going! I haven’t had to write any angst and I feel it coming now! Hehehe ૮ ˶´ ᵕˋ ˶ა

* The official Jury Supervisor of the Courthouse of Fontaine . The Otter of the Opera Eclipse

#genshin impact sagau #sagau x reader #sagau #x reader #x gn reader #gn y/n #yandere x reader #yandere x you #Otter!Creator #anon <3 #asks <3

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fionarara · 1 year

Text

+ cherry bomb .

+ GOJŌ SATORU x READER .

+ T W ⇾ 18+ only . smut . sugar daddy!gojo . dilf!gojo . f!reader . implied ddlg dynamics . adult age gap (the amount is your interpretation) . aquaphilia aka underwater sex . praise . a bit of a baby bimbo reader so um dacryphilia, no rly, like i’m talking actual tears, yeah . gojou has a dumb joke (or two) . mention of divorce (not yours) and of gojo’s child (also not yours) . slight size kink if you squint . i feel like both flaunted capitalism and vapid self-indulgence needs a tag here ?? we be explorin dark kink of all kinds on this here blog, right? (｡>ω<｡) . reader has a few nicknames . no beta . and lastly, probably goes without saying but daddy kink, i repeat, daddy kink . oyasumi ✌︎ .

+ A N ⇾ um, istg i totally did not mean to post this dilf!gojo on actual father’s day, h-whoa? but the universe just always has my back i swear, an amazing coincidence as i only realized right before posting, and somehow it feels *symbolic* ?? - this is for the sugar daddy collab by @sleepysnk, ty for letting me join last minute summer ♡

+ W C ⇾ circa 5,500

Zz Zz Zz.

Within your skirt a vibration kicks off.

The ringing of a phone tucked into the waistband against your tummy chimes out its soft little tune where you withdraw it to peek at the screen. Flashing vibrantly across its surface reads ‘DD Gojo’, and the smile unveiling on your face shines as brightly as the reflected device in your palm.

From where you stand on the sidewalk in elegant heels, all dolled up for the occasion, the twilight of dusk is visible on the horizon. The vision of picturesque dark multi-colored hues harmonize nicely with the wafting scent of warm pastries and tea in the air nearby, out from the cafe of the luxury shopping center you’ve been waiting in front of: Gojo’s favorite meeting spot. Whereby inevitably, has become yours as well.

A place you have both frequented together before, where he has showered you with many gifts, many times over, treasured in both of your memories. Cherished adventures built here upon wining and dining at the finest restaurants, playing dress up at the shops amongst extravagance, the cavalcade of glittering jewels and lavish garments–all the things you deserve as far as he’s concerned. He is of the belief that whatever you receive should be nothing but the best the world could ever offer, or at least his wallet, he figures.

And since life has been really tough on him lately–divorce is a bitch, the entire ongoing legal process has been one drawn out migraine–you and your overall companionship are so highly prized, not only in his day-to-day, but because of the new glow you’ve supplied his life. Especially during the last several months of regularly seeing one another after the separation from his marriage.

Unabashed in his absolute fondness for you, he has deemed you his little crème de la crème angel.

You pick up the jingling phone in your hand.

Gojo Satoru seems to be in an especially exuberant and silly mood when his voice forces a notable husky tone, answering your greeting with a fun-loving tease, a low murmur on the other end of the call.

“Ring-ding-dong—is baby ready for my dong, sweets?” He finds himself hilarious, goofy, a laugh ripping out of his throat with audacity, clearly and thoroughly enjoying his own terrible joke.

Wow. There’s that classic on-a-whim, lively, larger-than-life bluntness that comes along with Gojo’s Sagittarius energy you have come to know well: he’s innately playful and comedic, fun, loud, has got a charmingly sharp tongue with no filter—it can sometimes come back to bite him in the ass if he’s not careful—and all of that is blanketed by a sort of fiery sense of passion for the things he loves.

The fact remains that his way of being has always been able to find a kind of carefree humor within you, something so inexplicable. He brings out in you a sense of total ease or lightness you weren’t even sure you were capable of. A kind of untapped, unfettered joy no one has ever been able to touch in you before…

So you’re halfway snickering at him now, amused, but with full-blown sarcasm you reply, “Ha–ha, Satoru, you’re so classy…” then you’re truly giggling, “...just shuddup and get over here already.” You try to restrain the crack of a too-wide smile from spreading across your cheeks, but fail, gloriously.

So you give in to it. Deciding to oblige him, you press the mic of the phone closer to your lips with a hand cupped over your mouth, shielding your next spoken words while you avert your head downward in a play of secrecy. It’s almost a whisper when you respond.

“But…yes, I think that…just maybe, I am ready for it. Got it?”

He’s unable to actually see the minxy raise of your brow shown on your face, but the gesture is not lost on him from the tone in your voice. He hears it loud and clear.

“Jeesus, baby, I’m comin’, I’m comin’...”, the subtle rise of anticipation within him giddy and excitable. "Listen, I’m almost there. My GPS says I’m two minutes away.”

Late afternoon air has you rubbing away chilly goosebumps alive on your skin, particularly your upper arms, to bring you warmth. “Ok, good. Please hurry, it’s getting nippy out.”

“Oh?” Here it comes… “Mm, ya better have nipples out…see you soon.” The sound of a bold chuckle is distorted by the phone speaker before it’s cut off by a prompt click. He disconnected the call in that way.

Already, it is your second humored eye-roll of the evening from his cheeky Gojo-behavior and you haven’t even seen him yet.

Your chest is lighter because of it.

The shopping bags in your grasp shift from two hands into one, your free hand thumbing to find the golden credit card Gojo lent you in the pocket of your jacket. Assuring yourself that it’s still there is important.

Over a month ago, he had broken the news of how meetups between the two of you would soon become more of a challenge, due to court and custody hearings surrounding the finalization of his divorce. You’d be spending a considerable amount of time apart, he’d said. It would be longer than usual, by a whole month, and offered to grant you some form of consolation in return. So the very next day, an express-shipped credit card appeared at your doorstep in the fine afternoon with a letter enclosed. In it, he expressed that you were to use it and shop to your little heart’s content. The only deal was that you would hand it back upon the arrival of this date.

The car that pulls up to double park along the curbside beside you is, without a doubt, the most expensive car you will have ever ridden. It’s new. Gojo had mentioned it last week, making the purchase to lift his spirits and also as celebration for the court case he’d won against his ex. They’d granted him equal joint custody of their child. Actually, his final stop prior to fetching you this evening had been dropping off his baby daughter.

The door swings open on its own, remotely controlled by electronics. In view and resting on the front seat is a tatty teddy bear belonging to his child that was forgotten.

“Oops, lemme move that for you.” Somehow the sight of this tiny plush toy in his large hand brings about the sweetest rush in you for him. The stuffed animal is laid to rest onto the back seat where you also note a hollow purple baby bottle leaking a dribble of spilt milk from its nipple and onto the cushion.

Nineties grunge-rock plays soft on the radio when you climb in. The air is filled with a sweet and peppery, woodsy scent, one you recognize immediately–it’s him, his comforting cologne so greatly missed, only making you that much more aware of just how profound the ache has truly been for this moment to be by his side.

Crawling towards him, you pelt your eager arms around his neck, a way that communicates it has felt like an eternity apart. Both of you have a greater sense of it now, from being in the other’s presence. You can hardly keep your exhilaration in check, not with the soft squeals you let loose on his shoulder. For a moment, together you melt, breathing into each other.

It hangs in the air of the moment as you embrace.

The weight of the wait.

He then cradles you deeper, pulling you into an assertive kiss so welcoming, so sloppy with intention, it’s as if he’s blissfully unconcerned with how messy it is because, finally, you’re here. Letting you know it’s been far too long for him when he’s matting your cheeks with numerous pecks and taking in the scent of your hair.

Withdrawing to observe you, his eyes alight with radiance at the full sight of you, your energy. “God, I almost forgot just how stunning you are. Look at you! Just…incredible.”

The praise washes over you and after exchanging a few more greeting words, of how you’ve longed to see each other, he shifts the car gear into drive.

Buildings whip across the dark sunset and late dusk settles in. The spectacle of nightfall on this ride, of the city through the windshield, excites him enough to ignite a sudden curious stir in his pants. Maybe it’s the prospect of what night can bring with you along after so much distance that has his dick twitch at the thought alone.

And with that, his hand is creeping over to your lap. It should be almost comical when you believe for the quickest moment that his approaching hand would be innocent. One only of affection, to caress you, a gentle expression only in missing you…

But consequently, their energy becomes different—turn into those fingers, the kind you know well that are wanting, possessive. And being able to even think another thought is lost on you before he is squeezing at the thickest part of your inner thigh then slipping under your skirt.

“Satoruuu…wait…” you swat his arm with a light tap, dissuading him from getting too distracted. It’s happened once or twice before he’s lost control of the wheel when attempting something as naughty as this, but it is half-hearted when you breathily urge, “…pay…pay attention to the road…”

Not a moment later, out from the speakers the bass booms more loudly, the volume amplifying higher by the second where the music thumps heavy throughout your body. You locate the outlandish crystal-eyed culprit and his thumb pressing the ‘+ volume up’ button on the steering wheel.

Not only does he have the music blasted, but has the gall to flash a cutesy grin of mischief at you, a most sinful and impish face. That expression is followed up with a playful mocking yell, where the holler of his voice competes and cuts through the music.

“HUH, baby?-! WHAT? I can't hear you!” he teases, then carries on anyway with the slide of his fingers between your pressed thighs. It’s difficult for you not to part them a smidge while the electric feel of his three fingers reaches for your clothed cunt. They press flat against your mound at the first touch, then begin to fondle lightly at the grooves of your pussy, tracing the outer shape of it with his fingertips.

Having some restraint here had been your aim, but tonight you seem to be failing plenty at not completely succumbing to his whimsical charm–it's just been so long since you’ve been near him–you’d almost forgotten how magnetic his presence truly is.

Attempting to keep your desire hidden, you try stifling the puff of air that escapes your throat, turning your head away towards the window, but it is futile. On full display to him now is how unable you are to withstand his spellbinding touch, and he’d spotted it. That little starved expression tells Gojo how badly you’re fiending, it has him lowering the radio, the amplitude of the loud song descending and funneling out of the small space, volume all the way down so he can very clearly hear what his defiance has wrought on you.

Listening to your tiny constrained moans sends heat straight through his abdomen. You do not want to be condoning any of this while he’s driving, but unfortunately for your willpower, you act on instinct when you begin pawing desperately at the muscular forearm connected to strong fingers massaging over the wet spot of your panties.

“Yeahh…you like this, huh? Knew it.”

But, in a moment too soon, he is cut off by an abrupt swerve of the car and you gasp.

“Shit–” he grips steadfast onto the wheel, gaining composure of the vehicle.

“...Alright, alright, you were right. Let’s save this.” Punctuating the final word with one reassuring pat down onto your pussy, it's honestly more like a gentle spank.

You’re pouting, but of course you nod, agree, and settle into the electrically warmed seat produced by the suave leather chair, feeling loosened up.

Safety first.

. + .

The door to Gojo’s opulent estate, only a fraction of what sits on a 22-acre property, welcomes you by the greeting of a polished and suited butler. Warm lighting casts down from the expansive ceiling and it’s the first time this evening you’re able to catch a true glimpse of Gojo’s eyes. They look a bit tired, a tad worn from his recent circumstances, but it is truly a wonder how he can make even a light touch of under-eye bags look sexy.

Walking past the foyer toward the candle-lit living room, you extend him your comfort. Wrapping your arm around the bulk of his bicep, the other palm reaches for the hard pec on his chest to rub soothing circles of understanding.

Here you are at long last, approaching the grand sofa, both of you plopping yourselves atop the plush expanse and seamlessly locking on to one another. He relishes in the beautiful body flush against his.

Encircling his waist with your arms, you find it rather cute in taking note that he is marginally plumper around his middle than before, having developed a more modest weight around his butt and love handles. Though abs of steel still ripple his shirt, the overworked dad you hold in your arms seems to have relaxed a little from the recent stress and you are filled with a sudden pride for him.

A light-hearted joke flickers in your mind of his natural ability to take up space from his energy alone anyway–how you admire it, a part of you secretly wishing you could embody more of that in yourself–but mostly in how you appreciate this bigger physical development in him, because it now means there's a little more of him in the world.

“Shall we toast?” he suggests, so he whips you up a nice pink drink while he sips hard gin on the rocks, leaning back, thighs spread open like an empowered slut.

Curiosity then strikes him when the haul of shopping bags sitting on the floor from your spree earlier this evening catches his eye. “Ooo, lemme me take a peek at what you got.” he sits up and nods, face gleaming.

One by one each item is showcased and he is enthralled by every piece, because of course he is—it’s part of why he adores you, chose you, your keen eye and clear level of taste has always been impeccable, distinct and unique, highly attractive.

Then his heart is increasing in size as you confirm, right here, right now, that those aren’t amongst your only positive qualities when you’re showing him you’d also picked up something for him and had been thoughtful enough to do so. An ornate watch is pulled out of a fresh bag by your delicate hands, that then with a snap is on his wrist, handsome as it glints and refracts in the candlelight of the room.

Your body reaches over the littered items on the elaborate rug, clasping the final shopping bag which houses the bikini you had bought for this reunion by his request.

He whistles at it. “Superb. Model it for me, will you, babe?”

You do. Twirl, shimmy, joke with an exaggerated runway catwalk, giggle, then there’s something visible written on his face and you’re able to anticipate what his next move might be.

Gojo had developed a pension for bestowing you with a few cutesy nicknames in the time spent getting to know you. Amongst his favorites and most frequently used is that of ‘cherrybomb’. Must be a fan of The Runaways, you figured, but it truly came about when, almost exclusively, you began wearing rouge-shade lipsticks in his presence. Perhaps you could make yourself seem a little older, you’d hoped, give yourself a closer touch of sophistication in his world by presenting yourself in such a way.

But mostly he’d donned you with the specific moniker because a smattering of the red tends to end up around the lower half of his dick after he's had his way with you, a faint painted crimson over his pelvis near where it meets the shaft.

You’re halfway through striking a faked model pose when he lifts himself off the couch and approaches. With an index finger so sensual, he presses up into the cushion of your ruby lips, holding tight to your gaze, coaxing you with a query, “So, gonna help daddy feel better now, cherrybomb?"

Then, far into the depths of crystalline aqua you swim, deep into the mesmerizing eyes that lock onto yours and you say nothing; nothing except for an exhale of hot moist vapor releasing onto the firm finger that baits you. The slow lick you give it afterward, dragging your tongue up along the column of his digit, landing at the tip, answers any and all of his questions. He can already feel the swell of blood trickling in to fill up his cock.

The time has come for his hand to guide you through another hallway toward the recently completed construction of a large-scale naturesque onsen the size of a massive pool, installed in the outdoor area beyond the sliding doors. Intending to experience it tonight for the first time was on his agenda, professing his desire to christen the new space with you, right before he glides a magnificent lustered glass door to one side, letting you through.

You step into the open atmosphere: water bedazzled by moonlight, submerged light fixtures softly illuminating a mint-aqua azure-blue glow, steam rising thick as fog. A plethora of tall bamboo trees enclose the surrounding space, a waterfall cascades off a giant boulder just around the bend and beneath your feet and everywhere is an assortment of gorgeous stones varying in shapes, sizes and sorts.

Gojo leans into you from behind when you approach the onsen’s outer edge, planting kisses along your neck. A clean tug at the string of your bikini top by his hand has it flopping off your breasts, exposing them to the crisp night air, amongst the sprinkle of stars hanging in the heavens. Bikini bottoms hit your ankles next and he strips completely, down to his boxers, then to nothing at all. Already he’s rock hard, a cock so upright, it seems it could nearly touch his abs.

A large hand links to yours, leading you down into the inviting water.

"God, you’re tiny next to me." He tells you, loving how much his big build towers your frame, admiring your body from behind as you descend into the blue, bare feet hitting each lowered pebbled step.

Submerging into warmth, it cradles you as you dip in. Vapor floats off the lapping surface where your joined bodies bob together in water, all of your limbs wrapped around him. He wastes not another second longer, gripping you impossibly closer, making out with you, ardently; proving himself to be ever the great multitasker with one hand gripped on your asscheek and another kneading at your breast.

Now the sizzling of your skin isn’t from the heated water alone, for beneath the very surface you simmer for him, a robust flame of aching arousal so unbearable it has you trembling. Shaky and flustered by lust, from how strong hands grope every inch of your body, how his tongue intoxicates you as it rolls fluidly against yours, he senses it all—how overcome you are by need—making him groan with a fire in his belly, as do you, too.

Desire has your spine arching. Legs still grasped to his waist, your ass pops backward as far as it will reach, creating easy access for him where he can trace fingertips along the crack of your ass as a guide, down to the ‘X’ which marks the spot of your slick hole.

Two thick fingers dip up, curl inside you, and plumes of oxygen off your light moans release between whimpers. Like your third eye opening, the instant clarity you receive in understanding how these fingers are able to create such powerful sorcery is made evident now, by his digits making literal magic in you as they fuck you filthy beneath the water.

“Missed you like hell.” He murmurs, then you grip tighter, moaning, sucking a quick bruise on his neck.

Yet all too soon, he notes the angle of his wrist is not ideal, nor the slight pushback from the water. All of it provides much resistance for him to thrust into you at the necessary speed that he knows would truly have you unraveling for him.

A light bulb flicks on in his head.

“Turn for me.” He commands, gentle and true.

In favor of getting you back to the onsen steps without letting you lose arousal, he whips your body around, directing your arms to wind behind his neck, your ankles to wrap around his. With your back meeting his chest, exposed nipples sting wet in the cold bite of the air, wading you through the water. His goal to keep that hot coil of desire burning within you also means his own cravings run high right now, to have you squirming on his fingers from this position, knowing where that button can be pressed upon.

“Thaaat’s it, baby, keep it up for me…” He entices, approvingly, an eager hand reaching from around your hip to the front, massaging over your clit in winding motions of expertise. His game is won when your hips begin to stutter, rocking and chasing for more of his touch and he can sense the steady rhythm of your thighs tensing against his.

Soon, your feet hit the stony steps. Placed on a higher level than him, it gives him reason to bend you over as planned, to hike your ass up above the waterline where it collects just around your thighs. It’s there you are instructed to hold steadfast on the edge of the onsen.

“Good, baby. Just like that.”

He reckons it’s his turn to make you pliant and easy access for himself. From where he stands below, waist deep in water, his face is lined with the entirety of your raw nether-region, anxiously awaiting to eat you out from behind.

But first, the sight of you like this is truly something to behold.

Here is a quick moment of pause for Gojo, caught in admiring the beauty of pearlescent vapors casting heat off of every bit of your skin, dancing upward through the shine of moonbeams contrasted against the darkness.

“Mmm.” There’s a tone of carnal wonder—and just a touch of light playfulness—in his humbled voice. “Your pussy is steaming hot, baby. Literally.”

You whine from the unfavorable lack of contact as he purrs his sweet words. Air is blown over your bare steamy cunt by his lips, cooling it down, watching it clench, eyeing heat vapors disperse around it. Then he gingerly pries the petals of your pussy open, lingers in admiration for another moment longer before finally tugging your thighs backward to strike his face onto the wet folds. He impresses a deep open-mouthed kiss onto it, sucking your pussy slow and deep into his mouth, and you snap—out comes your ungodly cry in ecstasy. He makes it sloppy, purposefully a bit disheveled, all wicked slurps and licks of passion, and a huff from his nose hits your asshole in a stimulating sensation.

The taste of the mineral water mixed with the sweet drip of your cunt thoroughly quenches his thirst for this christening.

Light daddy scruff from his lower face can be felt against you as another slow upward lick nearly grazes your anus. He wants to create a plateau of his tongue stretching across the whole of your pussy, so he’s scooping under to search for your clit and press there, toying with the nub for several long languid beats.

That is until he makes a quicker decision to swap it in favor of shoving his fingers inside you and pump them with force from behind. When you thrust back to help his fingers reach deeper, he already misses his face being trapped and pressed to your cunt, so he moves back to slurping your clit too.

Your head falls forward as you crescendo from tiny whimpers into staccato groans, then sensing him pause for the smallest of moments only to catch a breath where you can feel his rapid draw of air.

He is attuned to when your hips begin gyrating harder onto his sucks, it’s a signal you’re close to your finish. So he doubles down, grabbing hold of your sides in a bruising grip, fingertips digging deep into the flesh of your hips where he forces you tighter onto his face. All that’s left to give is a tiny sting of pain to send you reeling and crying out his name, so his large hand cracks down on an asscheek, several filthy slaps, with the swirl of his tongue still on you.

He alternates, working and circling open your tender hole to motioning down onto pulsating clit-sucks in such perfect rhythm, it’s like the epic beat of a hit song—and in an instant, it must be your favorite tune, because now you’re singing out along with it, belting out with a searing vibrant orgasm that courses through you.

Your elbows and knees wobble, near to collapse, but he’s caught you just in time with a slide of his arm underneath your tummy, holding you up with another hand by your outer thigh.

And you feel entirely supported by him, in many more ways than one.

You’re weakened and topple sweetly into the water, flopping backward into his broad chest. He draws in your back from behind, whispering warmth in your ear. “Daddy’s turn.”

The way your cheeks beam in post-glow daze has him tender-hearted. “Aw, my little cherrybomb…” he brushes away clumped strands of hair plastered to your face, “...like how only I can make you feel?”

Being older than you means he’s more experienced. No one other than Gojo has even remotely had you cumming as hard, so you can't deny his accuracy. You’d never dream of denying it anyway.

“Without question, daddy,” a little raspy voice so sincere, your body twirling in the clear blue liquid to face him outright, telling him point blank, “you’re the only one that has the power to make me feel this good.” Nearly sung like a lullaby off your tongue, you stare up at him with the most earnest eyes.

The sweet innocence of your praise is so astounding it raises his eyelids to widen so greatly until the appearance of the moon’s reflection fully shines in his eyes ; a genuine response to your unwavering devotion. Then it’s gone in a flash, because his eyelids shut when he’s peppering a line of kisses over your forehead and his dick is forcibly throbbing against you.

“Mhm yeah, you feel that?” He sucks on your earlobe, it’s still between lips as his whisper vibrates on the sensitive skin. “Want you bad. Help your daddy out now."

It’s nearly impossible to contain yourself when the all consuming thought and need in this moment is his grown cock in your hand, to supply him with anything and everything that would satisfy him, service him with the utmost amount of pleasure possible it’s as though he would never again know of pain.

Plunging forward and splashing further into the water, you hurl yourself onto him, a hand wrapped around his cock, an arm thrown around his nape. You pull him into another session of sucking one another’s faces, feverish mouths echoing moans into each other while you fist him below the water.

Gradually, the motion pushes him further and further backward until his spine hits an eventual rocky wall, arms-length away from the flow of the waterfall.

Gojo hauls you up by your thighs to wrap over his hips, simply wanting you to feel how hard he is from the outside, skin against skin, tenderly outlining the full protruding length of himself over your folds. Teasing between velvety lips, he’s grinning at how much of your slick can be felt through the water as he rhythmically runs his hard cock to bump up against your clit. Pleasure erupts through you with uncontrollable shuddering, from the remembrance of how unbelievable it could be just to have Gojo rubbing over you, the rush of the hazy memory all comes flooding back to you now.

Your head cannot withstand its own weight any longer, dropping dead into his fragrant shoulder, the scent of his neck driving you to delirium, inducing an almost intolerable desire for him.

“Enjoying yourself?” He chimes, but you are barely able to muffle out an agreement with your mouth muted against his skin. The best you can give is a tiny nod and it feels you’ve mildly blacked-out behind closed lids. “Tell me how much you need it.” He commands.

“I-I…” you start, but it dies in your throat, “...I...I–”

“Come on, baby,” he coos, a little smug, a bit more pride in his request, “I wanna hear it.”

You're at a loss, struggling to form coherent sentences, already helplessly weak from his cock and it's not even inside of you yet.

“...so...s-so bad, please…I–”

A wordless understanding soon emanates between you both, suspended in the air surrounding you. It’s a palpable exchange of etheric empathy. He understands–identifies, since you have never spent this much time apart before and seeping into the gravity of that is also beginning to make him feel dizzied. “That's it…that’s it…you can do it, sweets, you can tell me...” He rocks his taunting hips, hypnotizing your needy hole from the outside with the prodding head of his cock as you try once more to formulate a sensical sentence.

“D-don't think…I've ever…wanted anything–so badly–I-I–”

The more you babble, the harder he throbs.

“Daddy, I just–!” You feel actual tears starting to well up in your eyes, “–missed you so much-!”

An unexpected pang in your chest induces a flood of tears from your lower lash line. It’s only obvious to you now that you’ve been harboring this specific avoided emotion for a while, possibly even weeks. Trying to keep “strong”, convincing yourself you’ve been fine, or shoving down anything that would surface from within you about making the distance a bigger deal than you thought it ought to be.

Feeling so foolish, naive, to be crying with a mix of anguished pleasure for him, you lightly choke on your resistance to all of it, but without any ability to stop it.

He slows, then halts to observe your face, detecting the moisture below your eyes. It catches him by surprise. Concerned for you, he speaks with care.

“Aww, angelll…”

A tear streams down your cheek where he stops it with his lips, kissing it away, and Gojo feels his cock swell harder.

Undeniably horny by your undeniable ache for him.

A hand swipes over your face, shushing you to calm. “Shh…that's alright, okay baby, shh, you did good–so good speaking up for me–letting me know how much you want me…” soothing tingles by gentle scratches of his hands along your back quell you, “...re-laaa-x…shh…that was good enough for me now.”

Your cheeks are burning, born out of the pit of stupidity you feel as it pools in your stomach. Yet still, you continue to tear up, subtle quivering comes in waves over your body and has him offering you more words of comfort.

“...Nnnm…I missed you too, hey, hey–” he cups your face, making sure you’re truly hearing him. “–I did too, I really did…I know, baby, I know…” since you’re already crying, he might as well give you a better reason to, in the only way he knows to make it better, “...missed you somethin fierce…here–lemme show you how much. Come’ere–”

Lining up with your drenched hole, he guides you down onto the smooth stretch of his thick cock and your breath constricts. It has your face contorting from the dizzying nature of it all, denting your nails into his broad back. Gojo’s glimmering eyes connect with yours, reflecting back a shared intensity. Your gazes mirror one another as two pairs of eyelids are drooping together in unison, carefully examining each other’s faces as you adjust to him and he finally bottoms out inside you. But he grants you mere moments before the overwhelming thirst for you is far too irresistible to bear any longer.

He surrenders to the will of his body as if possessed, chasing more of the sweet suck of your cunt in every thrust and now you’re crying from something else entirely. Strong, effortless, determined pumps of his length drive into your core, the way he knows you’ll always end up begging for, although now, no longer does he want to ask that of you.

In this instance, his sole purpose becomes your unspoken bliss, to anticipate your desires without you needing to word them, yearning to spare you any further trace of strain or exertion. He intends to allow you the full sensation of simply craving his strong presence, pistoning into you, to let you relinquish control, entrusting him to tend to every remaining detail of your pleasure.

“Does this make you happier, baby? Hm?” Still carrying you, he turns a 180, switching spots to push your back against the flat rocky surface and ram you up against the wall. “Does it? H-huh? Ngh. Does it make you ha-happy?”

The splishing of the waterfall and his fierce rhythmic grunts are the only sounds filling your ears. You nearly match the waterfall as more tears spill and that’s when you’re sure he doesn’t require a verbal reply. The confirmation of your entire body responding to him renders sufficient, like how your fingers instinctively entwine with his hair, gentle tugs at snowy locks for extra support, you then give a few wobbled nods.

But now he needs a little more support and leverage, gearing up for that one ideal angle in you.

Hanging low and tilted just overhead, rests a bamboo tree. Reaching that one sweet gummy spot inside of you will mean reaching one of his arms up to grab hold of it. Gojo steadily raises both of your connected bodies so both waists together are just a hair above the waterline. He is up on his toes, tight grip on the bamboo culm, when he pounds you to perfection, deep and generous, positively wrecking you ‘till you’re wailing from your finish in blinding satisfaction.

And daddy fucks you raw into the night, again and again, through to the edge of dawn; then later on, when the birds begin to chirp and you are fully spent in his bed – so fucking cute when you’re fast asleep – Gojo realizes he won’t ever grow tired of the faint traces of cherry smeared across his pillows.

. + .

+ link2masterlist .

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buckets-and-trees · 1 year

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Devour: FAT

Fandom: MCU Title: Fat (Devour, part two) Characters/Pairings: mostly-dark!mob!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Word Count: 2k Summary: True achievement in the restaurant industry requires a relentless drive. No compromises. You’ve risen through the ranks, and now hold the mantle of executive chef at Devour - a restaurant now owned by the infamous James Buchanan Barnes. He's just as relentless as you, and he's used to always getting exactly what he wants.

Content Warnings: smut (vaginal fingering), some strong language, mildly dark possessive behaviors

Additional Notes: Sequel to Salt (part one of the Devour series). Filling my tenth square for Bucky Barnes Bingo @buckybarnesbingo - U5 "Kink: Lingerie" and circling back to hit week 6 of Hot Bucky Summer for the prompt "How do you want me?"

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

“What’s that look?” you narrowed your eyes as Stanley’s approached. As Devour’s Maître d’ Stanley was regularly in and out of the kitchen on any given night, but it was the air of intent that had you questioning him.

“Mr. Barnes is dining with us tonight. Just arrived.”

“Right, everyone, the big boss is dining tonight!” your sous chef Charlie called out to the rest of the kitchen.

There was an immediate flare of sound and activity over the announcement, and so you threw your pan down onto the counter.

“Everyone stop – right now. Stop.”

The whole staff turned their attention to you.

You didn’t raise you voice but made sure you spoke clearly. “I will say this one time: if you cook better tonight than you have every other night because Bucky Barnes is here, you better keep that fucking level every minute you stay in my kitchen from here on or else don’t come back tomorrow.” You let your eyes quickly rove over all of them.

You don’t doubt this staff, you’ve worked with them for years – inherited some of them from your predecessor and recruited some of them yourself – and helmed them without questioning their loyalty since taking over the past week. But you’ve made it clear with this statement, letting them know this is the final test of the transition in your eyes.

“Understood?”

“Yes, Chef,” is the assent from everyone.

“Back to it then.”

Stanley raised an eyebrow as everyone got back to work. “You good?”

You nodded. “It’s not his kitchen, it’s mine.”

To his credit, Stanley didn’t push you any further on the matter and took you at your word.

An hour later, the Maître d’ returned. “Mr. Barnes said, ‘my compliments to the chef,’ on his way out.”

You tilted your head to the side and frowned. “’My compliments to the chef?’ That’s it?”

Stanley waved his hand in a vague gesture that indicates that’s the extent of it.

“And he left?”

“In and out smoothly from our new owner is all I want to see,” Stanley said before returning to the front of the house.

Bastard.

You worked to ignore the disappointment that took over the anxious heat that had been simmering in your core knowing he’d finally come back. It had been exactly a week since your debut as the new Executive Chef, meaning it had also been a week since mob boss James Buchanan Barnes came in, dined, bought the place, tripled your salary, and took you apart in this empty kitchen.

You excused yourself, needing to take a walk out back to work off the pent-up energy. Once out in the cooler night air, your hand worked under the shoulder of your chef’s coat to fidget with the strap of your bra. Then you huffed at doing that because it’s now one more thing that reminded you of him.

It had also been a week with an early morning delivery every day of a simple white box wrapped in a silk ribbon, and a set of under garments resting in a bed of tissue paper and two cards – one indicating it’s La Perla lingerie (a quick Google search confirming it was some of the most expensive intimate wear in the world, an Italian line that used only the finest European silks and lace), the other with a hand-written –JBB on it to let you know exactly who it was from. It was more than a little bold to send you something like that, but when you touched the soft, luxurious material with your fingers, you sighed, thinking it would be a shame to waste something so fine. You had tried it on, just to see.

It was maddeningly also the perfect fit.

You rationalized that if he was going to send it, who were you to deny yourself something so nice just because it was a bit audacious? Let him waste his money sending you these gifts.

Today’s set was black silk and tulle. You hated how wonderful it was.

The ticket for his table that night had been dinner for two with a bottle of wine.

You hated that, too.

He returned two nights later. The order brought back by his waiter this time was to “surprise” him. Another table for two, another bottle of wine. You sent the evening’s special.

Fifteen minutes after the plates went out, so did you.

Hell if James Barnes thought he’d dine and disappear again. (It hadn’t been a dine and dash the last time – he dined for free now as the owner, but he the staff couldn’t help remarking on the more than generous tip he still left.)

Again, in one of the more private table alcoves, you knew you were approaching his table with a bit of steam pouring from your ears, but you were not going to be deterred and wanted to strike while your resolve was strong.

Steve was his dining companion tonight, and as he saw you coming, he shot you a very small smile, excused himself from the table, and gestured for you to take his spot across from the mob boss.

“Good evening,” James said, voice low, eyes hinting at a bit of mirth.

“You buy my restaurant, take me in the kitchen, drop off the grid for a week, return to dine with a woman and leave without even a word, then show up here again tonight, and think you can get off without seeing me this time?”

He smiled. “Do you want to know who she is?”

Your mouth snapped shut. You hadn’t wanted to divulge that you knew he’d been here dining only with that woman, whoever she was, or that you cared that he’d been dining with a woman. Except a little of you also did want him to know you didn’t want to be one of a string of conquests.

He slid out of his side of the booth and came around and moved in next to you. “Interesting choice of words there, too: ‘get off.’”

You opened your mouth and closed it again. His eyes were dark with lust now, a smirk on his face, and the air felt suddenly thick around you.

“And she was my sister, by the way.”

“Oh.”

“But you should care. I like that.”

He moved even closer to you and placed his hand on your thigh, just above your knee. He brushed a finger along the side of your neck, and you couldn’t help but shiver.

“Now you said, it’s your restaurant.” His lips moved just to the shell of your ear. “Don’t forget it’s mine, Chef.” His tongue darted out to lick the curve there.

Half a whimper escaped your lips as your breath hitched.

He chuckled in your ear then pressed a kiss to your temple. He lifted his hand from your leg, and reached to the middle of the table where he dipped his finger into the dish of soft herbed French butter, then wiped it over your bottom lip. “This was delicious,” he started. You licked what he’d left on your lips, and you watched him lick the remainder of the butter off his own finger.

“But I bet you’ve got something even more delicious for me.”

You knew exactly what he was going to do, but maybe it was the intensity of his eyes locked with yours that made you remain still, practically holding your breath as his hand moved to the waistband of your pants and inside, going directly for the wetness he was creating between your legs. You shifted, body reacting to allow him more access even though your face burned with the heat of panic, not at all comfortable at the thought that anyone could see what was happening, but also desperate for him to give you the pleasure he was dangling in front of you.

“I remember the taste of your skin, and now I will get my taste of this.”

A full whimper fell from your lips this time, and you closed your eyes as his fingers circled your clit. His other hand came to rest at the nape of your neck as he planted his lips at your ear again.

“How do you want me? I bet you’ve been thinking about it.”

You gasped as he stroked up and down your labia and then slipped his fingers inside your cunt.

“Do you want me pushing these thighs open with my face buried between your legs, eating you out until you cry from it being too much for your over-sensitive clit? Splitting you open with my cock, you caged in beneath me while I fuck you into a mattress? Pressed up against a wall while I fuck you from behind? Have you thought about sitting in my lap and riding me?”

Your head fell forward, eyes closed, and you tried desperately to concentrate on your breathing and controlling the sounds you were trying to keep at by while he worked diligently to bring you towards ecstasy. Every word he said was making it all the more difficult, and you clutched at the edge of the table.

His other hand moved from caressing your neck to slip under the edge of your collar, pulling the shirt back enough for him to hook his fingers under the silky band of your bra. “Wearing what I got you.”

You reached up to grab his wrist and pull that hand away. He didn’t fight it, but he did grab your chin and tilt your face up to his for a fierce, hungry kiss. He bit at your lip, and his tongue coaxed and demanded entry to your mouth. He curled his fingers up against your pelvic wall, finding the sensitive spot there, and your lips immediately parted on a true keen over the sensation he stoked in your core. He swallowed up the noise in his mouth. His tongue stroked yours as expertly as his fingers stroked your heated channel, and within only a few more moments, your whole body seized up and then shuddered in the peak of the orgasm he demanded from you there at the table.

His kiss and his fingers both brought you down softly but quickly, and then he pulled you into his chest, tucking your head under his chin and rubbing small circles at the small of your back as your breathing returned to normal. When he removed his fingers from your cunt, he brought them to his lips, and made a low hum as he tasted your essence on his tongue.

“James,” you rasped.

“Delicious,” he whispered. “Mine.”

“Oh god.”

He snickered. “Nowhere close, you know that.”

You straightened your shirt and adjusted your trousers while he kept his broad torso sideways, and your glad he was so big he truly did afford you a modicum of privacy through the whole episode due to his size.

He pushed out of the booth, then took your hand and helped you out as well. He leaned in to kiss your cheek, but you put your fingers up to stop him. His brow furrowed.

“If I’m yours, I need more than this.”

He cocked his head just a fraction, his expression unreadable, but you saw a glimmer in his devastatingly blue eyes. “More it is, then.”

He pressed a kiss to the palm of your hand then sent you on your way. Steve passed you as he returned to the table and you to the kitchen, giving you a nod.

When you arrived home that night after your shift, something seemed different in your apartment, but you couldn’t put your finger on it immediately. You dropped your clothes into the laundry hamper, then jumped in the shower to wash the kitchen smell off you before bed. It was when you made your way to your closet, wrapped in a towel, that you noticed exactly what it was – you weren’t a slob, but everything was now extremely tidy.

Opening your drawer to get some panties, you audibly gasped.

A drawer cleared of all your old underwear, almost overflowing with new lingerie, and a card with the word ‘enjoy’ and his initials told you everything you needed to know.

He was an audacious bastard.

And when you looked at your phone as you crawled into bed, you had a goodnight text from an unknown number that undoubtedly had to be his. You frowned and did not respond.

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

Link to part three: ACID

#aspen wrote something #devour au #mob boss!bucky #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes au #female reader

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blushk1tten · 8 months

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slut! ꨄ minors dni

— nsfw: schlatt x afab reader, self degradation, praise kink —

slut, whore, clout chaser, dick rider. since publicly revealing your relationship with schlatt, you had heard it all from the internet. for the most part though, you were able to brush it off. after all, you knew the truth and so did schlatt. you loved him endlessly, regardless of his platform. however, for some reason, the hate comments were bothering you today.

the streamer awards had been the previous night, and you had finally convinced schlatt to go in person. so, the two of you had flown to LA, gotten dressed up in your finest gala wear, and had a fantastic time with your friends. to commemorate the night, you had posted some pictures on your instagram. the final picture you posted was of you and schlatt dancing at the afterparty, a bright smile on both of your faces.

while there were positive comments, especially from your friends, the comments from the fans were skewing negative today. some were the usual insults, but others were just plain vile. it made your stomach churn just to read them. worst of all though, it made you doubt yourself and your relationship. were you just tricking yourself into thinking that you weren’t a clout chasing slut?

by the time schlatt returned to the hotel room with the takeout you had ordered, you were curled up on the bed in tears. once he realized what was happening, he quickly put aside the food and climbed in bed with you, pulling you close to his chest.

"what's wrong, baby? 's everything okay?"

you shook your head, pulling away from him. it stung your heart to see the shocked and slightly hurt look on his face. "how can you be with me? how do you know i'm not just with you for fame? that i'm not some clout chasing slut?"

schlatt's face softened at that, realizing what was happening now. he began to gently rub up and down your arms, trying to soothe you. "you're not a clout chasing slut. anyone who said that obviously doesn't know you the way i do. fuck, i had to beg you t' come on my channel and reveal our relationship."

that was true. you had been so scared of this exact thing happening that you refused to reveal your relationship for over a year. still, you could feel that bit of insecurity still nipping at your insides. "how do you know i didn't trick you?"

"because you're a bad liar," he teased gently, finally pulling you back in and pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "you're nothin' that any of those comments say, and if it's okay, i'd like t' prove that t' you."

you thought about it for a moment, then nodded. you needed schlatt right now, pressing you carefully into the bed and showering you in kisses as he made love to you.

with your consent, schlatt began to do exactly that. he carefully removed your clothes, all while pressing kisses to your bare skin. every kiss made you feel loved and revered. quiet whimpers began to escape your lips, making him smile and come up to finally press a kiss to them. "there's my baby. love you so much, doll."

schlatt's clothes came off next, before he slunk down your body and began to press soft, open mouth kisses to your clit and entrance. you couldn't help but gasp and reach out for his hand, clasping it in yours as he dove in more vigorously, making sure to get you nice and wet. it didn't take long for your hand to squeeze his, back arching up and gasping as you reached your first climax.

"shit, baby," schlatt groaned as he climbed back on top of you and leaned in to kiss you, allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue. "you always taste so fuckin' good. you always are so fuckin' good. lemme take care of you."

all it took was another nod from you for schlatt to push in, tangling his hand in yours once again as he began to move. he kept his thrusts slow but firm, making sure to find that spot in you that sent sparks up your spine, "you're so perfect, doll," he murmured softly, leaning in to kiss you briefly and swallowing your tiny gasps. "like an angel. lemme hear you say it. want you to say how perfect you are."

as schlatt squeezed your hand, and you felt his nose brushing gently against yours with every thrust, you couldn't help but give in. "'m perfect. 'm your baby, your doll, your angel."

he gave you another kiss, groaning as he began to speed up. "that's my girl. now c'mon, i wanna make you feel good."

it didn’t take much longer for you to cum, clenching around his cock as he came inside of you and whispered sweet phrases in your ear.

"there you go, shit, that's my angel. you look so beautiful, doll. just keep on milkin' my cock."

afterwards, when you were both cleaned up and lying in the afterglow, you couldn't help but think back to the comments again. this time though, you had a different take. if this is how revered schlatt made you feel all the time, maybe it was worth being a so called slut.

#jschlatt x reader #jschlatt x you #schlatt x reader #schlatt x you #jschlatt hcs #schlatt hcs #jschlatt headcanons #schlatt headcanons #jschlatt smut #schlatt smut #blush ꨄ

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samrsgyi · 1 year

Text

Nancy with a Fem! S/O who loves to cook for them

- Nancy has no idea why you do it, but she doesn't mind at all

- She loves it when you cook for her

- She even does the same thing for you as well

- When Nance always asks," Why do you cook for me?" You always respond with a, " I wouldn't wanna waste my sweet time on my love bug."

- Yes Nancy will get flustered and cover her face in embarrassment and act like you didn't just say the sexiest line in human history

- But she gets you back by pouting and lightly punching you on the arm while her face is red and flushed

- The treats that you make her is like scrambled eggs and bacon, pancakes, and any cheese sandwich

- After all anybody does need a lunch break once in a life time

- Overall just you being a Girlfriend who will care and love Nancy till the end of time

End

#Nancy Mckenna x Fem!reader #la's finest x reader

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lxstfathier · 1 year

Text

Cachorrita

Los Vaqueros x Reader

Headcanons

Summary: you got caught in the middle of the narco violence, losing everything. Thankfully, the vaqueros rescued you and decided to adopt you… as a pet.

Warnings: murder/trauma mentions, pet play, collaring, poly relationship (?), slight smut.

A/N: i can’t stop thinking about Ale and Rudy, they’re both so cute and boyfriend shaped and i love them very much 💗 so i got this silly idea in the middle of the night and decided to write it, don’t ask me what the hell is this, just enjoy it. And please remember that english is not my first language. Hope y’all like it :)

♡ Your parents were killed by el sin nombre, and you were kidnapped for a few days with the intention of human trafficking. Luckily, you were rescued by los vaqueros before you ended up being trafficked for real.

♡ It was nice to be free again, but everything you had ever know didn’t exist anymore. Not even your home. You had nowhere to go, and such a naive little girl like you would be an easy target in Las Almas… again. That’s why the vaqueros offered you to stay with them, in their base.

♡ You accepted immediately. They saved your life, and you would trust them with it.

♡ At first, it was weird to live among military men. Seeing them always with a serious look on their faces and yelling orders was quite scary, but soon you got used to it. You got along with everyone, and they all treated you in the nicest way possible, so it wasn’t as bad as you thought.

♡ They even gave you your own little room!

♡ Once you started to get more comfortable, you gained the confidence to get out of your room more often, exploring the base and helping around with the daily tasks, learning the basic things. And it wasn’t long until you grew closer to Alejandro and Rodolfo, following them around any time you could.

♡ Alejandro thinks of you as one of those stray dogs that Rudy used to bring into the base (in a cute way), that’s why they started calling you “Cachorrita”.

♡ You love the nickname, but you loved it even more when they actually started treating you as a puppy, making sure that you’re always happy and taken care of.

♡ One day, they surprise you with a pretty collar. It’s made from the softest and most finest leather, in your favorite color, and it also has a cute heart-shaped tag that says “Cachorrita” and “Propiedad de Los Vaqueros” in the back. Such a sweet gift. It made you teary. You hugged every single one of them as a thank you and then Alejandro put it around your neck <3

♡ It doesn’t matter if they’re all at the base, or just a few soldiers, you always go out to spend time with them. You keep them company, listen to anything they have to say, comfort them, or just snuggle on their lap while they play with your hair. They say often that you’re way better than a therapy dog, but you don’t really think so.

♡ One time you decided it would be a great idea to cook something for them, so you prepared chilaquiles con carne, and they all went insane, saying that it was delicious, better than the bland military food they were used to eat daily. So now you cook for them almost every day, remembering the recipes your mother taught you.

♡ Even though they all agreed to collar you, only Alejandro is allowed to put a leash on you. He doesn’t do it often, just when he has to do a lot of paperwork in his office, taking you with him to keep you at his feet for hours. “Good girl” he says petting your head while you rest your chin on his thigh. “Keep being obedient and i’ll give you a treat when i’m done”. If he gets stressed, he might use that pretty little mouth of yours.

♡ They won’t hesitate to spoil you. You want new clothes? Stuffed animals? Jewelry? The newest iphone? don’t even worry about it, Ale and Rudy will be buying it all for you.

♡ When they go away on missions, they always text you whenever they can, making sure that you’re fine without them. Rudy always gives you one of his credit cards, telling you to use it if you need something. But you have never used it, you have everything you need at the base.

♡ When they come back, the first thing you hear is Alejandro yelling “Dónde está nuestra cachorrita?”, and you’ll come out of your room as fast as you can, running to them to hug them tight, glad that they’re all safe and sound.

♡ Sometimes, when Alejandro or Rodolfo get horny (which is often), they come to you, and you spread your legs for them, happy to please them however they want. Rudy fucks you sweet and slow. Alejandro fucks you fast and rough. But you like it more when they both fuck you at the same time.

♡ When you get your period, they all treat you as if you were dying, giving you everything you want and need. Alejandro makes sure you have pain pills and a hot water bottle to put on your tummy, and Rudy goes to the store to get more pads and your favorite snacks.

♡ When you wake up in the middle of the night because of your constant nightmares, you sneak into Rudy’s room, getting in the bed with him and cuddling up in his chest. “Qué pasa, cachorrita? you got nightmares again?” he asks, half awake, and when you whisper a “si” he just holds you closer, hearing his heart beat until you fall asleep.

♡ They teach you how to use a gun, just in case. But you really hate it. Those things are heavy and loud and scary.

♡ Speaking of things you hate, you also don’t like going outside due to your trauma. But Alejandro and Rudy insist on taking you out at least once a week, going to the local market for some groceries, and you hold Ale’s hand as if your life depended on it, way too scared to let him go. But, if you behave well, they buy you ice cream on the way back.

♡ You’re not a brat, but sometimes you accidentally do something they don’t like. They’re the military after all, highly disciplined men, and you aren’t used to that. If you do something slightly disrespectful or don’t listen to orders, it will result on Rudy or Ale yanking you by the collar, planting a firm smack on your ass. “Don’t do that again, entendido?”.

♡ You love stealing Ale’s military jackets. They’re comfy, oversized and smell like him. But you didn’t expected him to get you your own jacket, embroidered with “cachorrita” on the front and a bright pink armband that says “emotional support”. And you love it, of course, but that doesn’t stop you from stealing his jackets again.

♡ You have an oral fixation, and Rudy thrives off it, letting you bite his arms, lick his neck or have a really messy and heated up kissing session (if he’s not busy). Sometimes he even lets you suck his fingers, but be careful with that one cuz he might want to give you something bigger to suck on.

♡ If any of Los Vaqueros gets hurt on a mission or training, you will take care of them just like they do with you, not leaving their side until they feel better. You can’t stand seeing any of your -new found- family in pain, makes you feel sad :(

♡ When your birthday comes, Alejandro and Rodolfo enter your room early at morning, singing las mañanitas and giving you the gift they got for you. It’s exciting, so you quickly open the box, eager to see what’s inside. Gasping when you finally admire the pretty set of fluffy ears, tail plug, and thigh high socks with paw print, all in your favorite color. “Why don’t you try it on for us, cachorrita?” Alejandro suggests, and you’re more than happy to do so, already feeling a tingle between your legs.

♡ You’re on birth control, obviously, but Rudy and Ale are already thinking about getting you off those stupid pills…

#alejandro vargas smut #rodolfo parra smut #cod smut #alejandro vargas x reader #call of duty fanfic #rodolfo parra x reader

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jaegeraether · 9 months

Text

Sunsets and footballers (Part 40)

Lucy Bronze x Reader (37) & Alexia Putellas x Character (8)

Masterlist (other parts here)

((**This is my largest chapter so far (5.6k). I hope you enjoy!**))

Alexia didn’t respond, and nobody knew what to do. In fact, nobody had seen her like that before. Eyes darted from Alexia to Ridley and back with worry and confusion. Lucy and YFN met each other’s eyes with equally worried expressions, though they’d both clicked on.

“She’s the girl from the bar?” Lucy asked Alexia.

Alexia hesitated before she nodded.

“Exactly how many people have you told about last night, la Reina?” Ridley asked slowly in Spanish.

“What happened last night?” Oshoala jumped in curiously.

“Asked and answered.” Ridley murmured and gestured to Lucy and YFN. “Just these two then?”

“That was you last night?” YFN asked Ridley. Lucy put a hand on her arm supportively but also because she just wanted to touch her.

Ridley kept Alexia’s eyes as she responded to YFN. “I told you I made a mistake. It wasn’t my finest moment.”

“You can say that again.”

Ridley turned to look at YFN a little hurt. She’s one person she never wanted to disappoint.

“You never told me it was Alexia.”

“You never asked.” She replied with typical Ridley sass.

One of the coaches yelled from the tunnel then, a little annoyed that they were still chatting. Panos and Oshoala left the awkward exchange first. YFN looked to Keira who had backed away a little, seemably deciding it wasn’t the best time for introductions. Instead, she and YFN exchanged a shy wave before she also ducked off into the tunnel.

“Why are you here?” Alexia asked in Spanish, finding her words.

Ridley assessed her expression, before she removed the leather jacket and held it over the barrier for her.

That clicked for Lucy, but YFN wasn’t aware she’d left her jacket behind. Alexia took a step forward and gently took it without touching Ridley.

“Is that all?”

“No, Alexia. That’s not all.”

Lucy knew a little Spanish, but not enough to keep up with how quickly they spoke.

“ALEXIA! LUCY!” The even more annoyed yell came.

Lucy looked at her girlfriend, eyes darting to her lips and wishing she could kiss her in front of the crowd. “Thank you for coming. I’ll see you after?”

“Yes please.”

“Oh and here…” Lucy removed her jersey and gave it to her. “We have two per game.”

YFN blushed at that, sharing a look with Lucy that said she couldn’t believe they were together again.

Lucy grinned and gave her a quick hug before she jumped off of the cooler box and took Alexia by the arm, tugging her towards the tunnel.

“It’s not the time or place…” She murmured to her.

“My number is in the pocket.” Ridley told Alexia as the Barca Captain allowed Lucy to drag her away. She turned to YFN who was pouting at her. “That’s why you wanted to come? I knew you had an alternate motive.”

“No, Blue. I would have done everything the same regardless because I love you and wanted to see you. This was a bonus that I leapt on when the stars aligned.”

YFN couldn’t help but still be a little mad. Ridley knew Alexia was Lucy’s teammate.

She shrugged her jumper off before pulling Lucy’s jersey over her shirt and pulling the jumper back on. Her match worn shirt. It was a little bigger on her but perfect nonetheless. She felt across the stomach of the material, smiling to herself before looking back up at Ridley.

“You really did that last night?” It wasn’t judgemental, it was worried.

Ridley sighed as they sat down again. “You know I sleep around, Blue.”

“But you made her screw another woman?”

“I invited her. Both parties were willing.”

“You really upset her…”

“I really upset myself.”

YFN could see on her face that she was telling the truth and she felt for her. Ridley was a lot of things, but she wasn’t a bad person. She was one of the best, bravest, smartest people she knew, and a lot more caring than she let anyone see. She had wondered before about the type of person Alexia had interacted with last night and now it made sense and to be honest, her theories weren’t wrong.

Ridley held out her arm in a peace offering and YFN hooked her arm through and rested her head on her shoulder. At the end of the day, she was still Ridley, and as broken as she was, she was still going to be an important part of her life forever.

They sat in silence for a little, watching the half time entertainment on the ground before YFN spoke.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“I like my emotions like my water. Bottled.”

Ridley notoriously didn’t talk about anything related to her emotions. The one person in the world she ever spoke about her family and their childhood with was YFN, because she’d been there, and she’d never had any proper relationships to talk about. Any flings, however, she could talk about. Because they meant nothing to her. Alexia was different though, and YFN could see it on her face when she asked the question.

“There’s not much to say,” she murmured as she snacked slowly on her popcorn.

YFN rolled her eyes and a piece of popcorn hit her in the forehead.

“Besides, it seems like you already know?”

“I want to hear from you.”

Ridley sighed and put her popcorn down. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

YFN squeezed the arm she was still holding, hoping to keep Ridley a little warm now that she didn’t have a jacket. She had goosebumps, but she’d never complain, and the Australian flag around her wasn’t helping much.

“I met her in a bar.”

“Your favourite bar that you’re always talking about? With the sex rooms?”

“Do you want to hear this or not?”

She glued her mouth shut.

“Yes, that bar. I knew who she was immediately, and people spoke about her like a goddess, but there’s just something about her that draws me in. I try to ignore it, but it’s still here. I don’t even have to be looking at her to know she’s right there.”

YFN knew that feeling all too well and she looked at the players running back out, her eyes finding Lucy. She had her arm around Alexia’s shoulder, as if to ensure she wouldn’t turn to look at them when she walked out. Lucy did though. She couldn’t help herself.

“Something…perfect. Something I didn’t want to taint. Something I didn’t want to ruin. I still don’t.”

“So you slept around to make her jealous?”

“I always sleep around. But I slept around more at the bar to push her away, and hoping that it would end this feeling.”

“But it didn’t…” YFN whispered as the whistle blew.

“It didn’t, and I kept going back just hoping to be in the same room as her.”

“Oh Riddles…” It was so unlike her.

“I knew I was being stupid so I left. I took that temporary contract based out of Dubai. It lasted five months and I tried to not come back to the bar, but I couldn’t help myself. She was all over the news.”

“You saw her again?”

“Immediately. It’s hard to not see her. And I suppose you’ve heard of our little interaction.”

“The one where you beat someone up for her?”

Ridley hummed in response and took a sip of water, her eyes locked onto the field. Alexia still wasn’t playing, but it wouldn’t be long until she was subbed on.

“Two of my favourite qualities of yours.”

“Aggression? Cockiness?”

“Chivalry. Protection.”

Ridley looked at her then and a few feelings about their childhood sat there between their look. YFN squeezed her arm tighter. Ridley had always been her protector growing up. Now she not only had Ridley, but Lucy also. Lucy, however, picked and choosed her battles like with the restraining orders. Ridley, however, would kill. Hell, she almost had that day. YFN’s eyes fell to the scar on her cheek.

“I don’t like how we match.” Ridley said. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s cute of you to follow my fashion trend, but I almost got on a plane to find her.”

YFN remembered the long conversation she’d had to calm her down. Knowing she had Lucy was the final nail in the coffin that was the end of that conversation.

YFN chose to end that conversation quick. “We have restraining orders now. You disappeared again?”

“I left again, yes. I was worried she’d strike up a conversation with me if I went back again. So I struggled with self-control in Barcelona for a month and luckily for me, another temp contract came up again in Dubai and they requested me.”

“You really are the favourite at work, aren’t you?”

“You know it, baby.”

“And last night?”

“Last night…I saw her in the bar. So I took my friends with benefits up to the rooms to get some feelings out. You know the one, Jessica?”

“I remember you mentioning her.” She meant nothing to Ridley, though they’d been sleeping together casually for a few years now.

“Mmn. Unfortunately, Alexia came upstairs and when I saw her, I couldn’t stop myself.”

She ran her hand through her hair, and YFN had never seen her look stressed before but right now she could see a little of that. “I didn’t force her to do anything, you know.”

“I know.”

“They were both aware and willing.”

“I know, Riddles. I know. They know, too. The issue isn’t that and you know it. The issue is that she felt used by you. It’s not a great way to show your affection to someone…”

“I just wanted to be close to her. It would have been too personal if it were just the two of us.”

YFN looked back out at Lucy, a little peeved that she was now on the opposite side of the pitch. “That’s relationships for you.”

“I don’t want a relationship.” She responded quickly.

“You know that relationship doesn’t mean dating, right? Lucy and I are in a monogamous relationship, but you and I have a relationship also. It’s called friendship. You have relationships with your…women. They’re sexual relationships. And your work colleagues? Work relationships. You don’t need to define it. You can just let it grow and evolve in its own way, you know.”

“I can never give her a partner relationship.”

“You don't know that, because you’ve never tried. And you don’t know what she wants, because you’ve never asked. You’re just scared, Riddles.”

Ridley scoffed.

“I’m being serious. I know you think nothing scares you, but this does. She scares you. She scares you because she makes you feel things. She scares you because you know you could fall for her. She scares you because you’ve never wanted to open up to someone before.”

“I open up to you.” It was a weak argument, and from the tone in her voice, she knew it.

“Not all the way. You always have that control, and you’re worried you’ll lose it with her. But here’s the thing, you’ll never know. Because you’ve never given her a chance.”

“We don’t know each other.”

“You know enough. You speak to each other without speaking. Lucy and I are the same, and it’s the exact reason we got together. Now we learn together and grow together. We’re learning to trust each other with our most personal selves and open up. And what’s funny is that you already know all of this, Riddles. You’re the smartest person I know. You just need me to say it out loud for you.”

They reached the 62 minute mark then and Alexia was subbed on for Claudia Pina and the roars of the crowd were deafening. They watched her as she stood at the boundary with her blonde hair in her signature ponytail as she hugged Claudia before jogging onto the pitch to take her place. YFN saw Lucy jog over close enough to reach her hand out for a hi-five as she came on. Lucy, Lucy. Her heart was so big, YFN wondered how it was hers. Ridley noticed her longing gaze.

“If she hurts you…”

YFN’s head snapped sideways to her. “If you touch her, I’ll beat the shit out of you.”

Excitement lit in her eyes. “Woah there, Blue. That’s the first time you’ve ever threatened me, you know?”

They chuckled together. They knew she would have zero chance against Ridley, though the declaration sure made obvious her emotions.

They watched the rest of the game without any talk of relationships, and YFN couldn’t help some of her attention on Ona. She was small and very agile. She went down hard in the 69 minute mark for a free kick, before she was subbed out at 72 minutes having been the best on field. As she walked off, her eyes drifted up and found YFN’s. She looked down quickly as if she’d been caught, and YFN didn’t have a chance to wave.

At 81 minutes, Alexia went down for a trip after she’d disposed of the ball and she fell backwards, clutching her ankle. Luckily it wasn’t bad and she was back on her feet after retying her shoes, but YFN and Ridley were both tense. She gave her free kick to Caroline Graham Hansen who kicked a goal with a decent deflection off one of the Villareal players.

There were multiple missed shots through the rest of the game, a few by Alexia and a clever backwards flick by Lucy from a corner which left her grinning as she jogged back to her spot after the attempt, but it ended 6-0 to Barca at the 95th minute, keeping them unbeaten for their Liga F season.

After they shook hands, Lucy bounded back over at the first chance she had, this time dragging a cooler like she was a toddler. She jumped up on it and YFN found herself wrapped up in her arms again, this time she was even more sweaty but she didn’t mind. She pulled back and couldn’t help but play with the little baby hairs of Lucy’s that had curled at the nape of her neck during the intensity of the game.

“Luce! Great game, and that flick?!”

“I know! I just hit it wrong and Mapi was teasing me on it.” She grinned. “Come down to the lockers?”

YFN looked at Ridley. “I don’t know if that’s the best idea.”

“You want me to drag you over the rail and carry you down myself?”

Ridley had a good chuckle at that and finally they were properly introduced, though the exchange felt to YFN a lot like two protective men meeting.

“Thanks for getting her here…”

“Anytime. She knows that.”

“And now so do I.”

YFN groaned. Lucy was obviously a little annoyed with her for Alexia, whereas Ridley was just being Ridley. Just a tad more protective.

“Luce, you need a shower.” YFN said, attempting to break the ice.

“You like me sweaty.”

The sexual meaning had her blushing.

“I can’t believe you’re here.”

“You can thank Ridley for that.”

She became more sincere towards her then. “Thank you. Really… thank you.” She turned back to YFN. “How did you get here?”

“Cargo plane. Ridley organised it and picked me up from Valencia.”

“You drove to Valencia from Barcelona?!”

Ridley shrugged. “I like travelling.”

“How much do we owe you?”

Ridley looked almost offended. “Being alive these days is expensive enough.”

“Still.”

“Nothing.”

“Are you coming home on the flight I booked you?” Lucy asked YFN, her arm tightening around her waist. A few fans started screaming for Lucy’s attention around them then, and YFN tried to take Lucy’s lead by pretending she didn’t hear.

“Uh…we haven’t spoken about that.”

“When do you leave?” She looked like she really didn’t want to know the answer.

“My flight out is at 10am.”

It was Lucy’s turn to groan. “But you just got here…”

“LUCIA!”

“LUCY, LUCY!”

The extra excited fans managed to barge into the friends and family section and were barrelling towards them. “Oh shit, you need to go Luce.”

“Grab onto me.” Lucy grabbed YFN and dragged her over the railing with her and when they were down on the pitch, they looked up at Ridley who was expressionless, and surprisingly resistant to the shoving around by the fans.

“You want me down there?” She asked, unworried.

“Yes?!”

“I’ll get the cooler-”

Lucy was cut off by Ridley leaping down and landing with the confidence of a gymnast. They moved towards the pitch and away from the fans.

“10 am?!”

“Yeah.. I need to be at the airport earlier though for the international flight.”

“What about the storm?”

“Storm will be gone by then.” Ridley interjected.

They’d lost one and a half days due to a storm, and the other half a day from YFN making a promise to Kyra. Lucy’s emotions were clearly written on her face. Regardless, she spoke between gritted teeth.

“I’m guessing you want to drive back with Ridley? You haven’t seen each other in a while…”

“Uh…”

There was a pause and Ridley stepped in. “I’m actually staying in Valencia tonight. You two have your fun, and I’ll catch you next time you’re in Spain. Besides, we’ve had our little catch up.”

YFN knew she was lying, but Lucy didn’t and her body relaxed with relief. It meant three more hours together.

“You’re staying in Valencia tonight?” Alexia asked in English, having crept up on the conversation.

Ridley didn’t respond at first, because she knew it was a lie, and Alexia’s expression said that she didn’t believe her.

“I can be.”

“Alexia is staying here too...” Lucy offered.

That got Ridley’s attention. “Really?”

“Si.”

“It’s her grandma’s birthday tomorrow.” Lucy offered again.

YFN smacked her hip lightly, as if to tell her to stop trying to influence their discussion. Cheeky Lucy. She chuckled, relishing the fact that YFN was here with her arm around her waist and Lucy’s slung over her shoulder. It should have been a crime to live in two different countries.

“Is that so?” Ridley asked, switching to Spanish. “Are you free to talk tonight?”

“I can be.”

“Perfect. I can drive you from here if you’d like. There’s a great restaurant in Valencia I’d like to show you.”

“We’re not having sex.”

“Don’t speak too soon, la Reina. We wouldn’t want to make you a liar, now.”

Lucy and YFN’s heads were shifting from one to the other, like a game of tennis, wondering what was happening. It was hard to miss the word sex, though.

Alexia looked as if she was going to change her mind when Ridley spoke again. “Relax, Alexia. I just want to talk. I owe you a proper apology.”

“Okay…” She agreed hesitantly. “But I need to shower and change first.”

“I’ll be waiting for you outside. Message me.”

Alexia wandered off, Ridley’s eyes following every step she took. Lucy turned to YFN and they shared a look.

“I’m going to shower. I’ve booked a seat next to you on the plane.”

“You’re not going with your team?”

Lucy scoffed. “You’re not getting rid of me anytime soon.”

“Do you two need a lift to the airport?”

“Yes, please!” YFN agreed, before she’d realised what she’d agreed to. “Go shower, Luce. We’ll be outside. I’ll be the one with the Australian Flag.”

Lucy swore she’d never been so tempted to kiss her before. She leant forwards and her eyes darkened, but the yelling of the fans close by was too obvious, and she didn’t want to share a kiss with her girlfriend with the world. She deserved her privacy.

“I’ll find you, little one.”

The car ride was the most awkward thing all four of them had ever experienced in their lives. It started off awkwardly before they’d even entered the car, all of them wondering the most acceptable place to sit. They eventually decided YFN in the front with Ridley and Lucy in the back with Alexia was the way to go. YFN stretched her arm out behind her and Lucy tangled her fingers with her own. The ride was nothing but music and Ridley chuckling at the awkwardness until they spoke. Surprisingly, it was Alexia of all people who spoke first.

“YFN, Lucy said you both grew up together?” She asked with a thick accent, gesturing between her and Ridley.

YFN turned in her seat, happy to finally be able to speak to Lucy’s friend.

“Oh, yes. We’ve known each other since we were really young. We went to school together and lived next door to each other.” She looked at Ridley cheekily and she knew that expression all too well.

“Don’t you dare.”

She dared. “I have a few embarrassing stories if you’d like to hear them?”

“I will pull this car over and put you in the boot.”

“She can still hear me from the boot.”

“Not gagged, she won’t.”

“I think Lucy would have something to say about that.”

“Don't make me fight on the side of the highway, Blue. I really like this shirt and besides, you need her in tact for tonight.”

YFN blushed at that. The funny little exchange happened quickly, Lucy and Alexia following it amused. It was clear to see they knew each other very well.

“You know Lucy boxes, right?”

“You know I have two black belts, right?”

“Are they always like this?” Alexia asked.

Lucy shrugged. “This is the first time I’ve seen them together.”

“This is tame, I promise you.” Ridley replied before directing her attention back to YFN. “Your girlfriend can’t save you from this.”

“Ah, you’re just the full package, aren’t you?”

“That is correct. Hard to imagine why I’m single, right?”

“Why are you single?” Lucy asked.

“Give it a minute and you’ll see.” YFN muttered.

Alexia laughed then, and Lucy couldn’t help but laugh with her because Alexia rarely laughed like that.

“You know I put a disclaimer out whenever I introduce you to people?” YFN asked Ridley. Their banter was never-ending.

“Let me guess, ‘The best thing to happen since sliced bread?’”

“An acquired taste.”

“You really are a lesbian.”

YFN groaned. Ridley had always been too quick witted, and she was obviously out of practise having been apart from her in so long. Their two passengers in the back, meanwhile, were loving the experience. “That’s it, I’m telling them the 2am chocolate cake story.”

“Don't start.”

“You know that automatically makes me want to start.”

“There’s a pull over bay coming up.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“I dare all day long, baby. Try me.”

“There’s also the therapist story…”

“You’re going to have to be more specific.”

YFN rolled her eyes. “The rollerblading one.”

“They were heelies, and I still think they’re a trend.”

“Was the Jager bomb in your hand also a trend?”

“You tell me, you’re the one to put it there.”

“It was my attempt to encourage you to open up to him.”

“Do I look like a flower to you?”

“Flowers are pretty.”

“I’m not pretty?”

YFN rolled her eyes. “You ARE pretty. But then there’s that resting face you do…”

“I’ll have you know that has gotten me out of a lot of conversations over the years.”

“You two sound like my brother and I.” Lucy said through chuckles. They were still enjoying the show, it seemed.

“You’re going to have to get used to it if we spend Christmas together.”

“Ridley’s coming for Christmas?”

“It her suggestion, believe it or not.”

“Don’t act like you didn’t guilt me into it…”

YFN chuckled and hit her shoulder.

“In Australia?” Lucy asked, wanting to plan.

YFN turned around to her. “I was thinking of bringing them both over to the UK for a white Christmas actually. Nan and I have never had a white Christmas.”

“Yes! Okay, perfect. I’ll talk to my folks, they’ll love that.”

Ridley looked in the rear-view mirror and found Alexia’s eyes. “What are you doing for Christmas, la Reina?”

“I’ll spend it with my family in Spain I think.”

“Ah.” Was the only response she gave, though Alexia saw a bit of melancholy behind her eyes and she looked back to the road.

Awkwardness out of the way, the rest of the hour-long drive was full of banter and YFN made sure to chat to Alexia and Ridley as much as possible. Alexia, because she was so close to Lucy and Ridley, because it had been far too long.

They were a little late and boarded their plane at the last minute, enjoying every second together. Lucy let YFN have the window seat and took her thigh in her hand, refusing to be parted from her. After being apart, they only had another twelve hours together and from the intensifying looks they shared, they were going to make the most of it.

Lucy had planned on cute lunches and dinners, beach dates and introductions to her team. Unfortunately, time hadn’t permitted that just yet. They arrived home and Narla was on them immediately as they entered, yapping away. YFN knelt down, letting her sniff her before she started to pat her. She followed them around as they settled their things into the bedroom and got changed into clothes for bed. Her energy didn’t last long though, as it was 10pm and dark. Narla went to sleep in her little bed in the living room while Lucy was still showing her around her apartment. It was cute, and typical Lucy. Modern, clean, bare necessities. YFN had a good chuckle at the amount of sneakers she had lined up around the walls in her bedroom. While Lucy unpacked, YFN explored two more rooms, one was a spare bedroom and one was full of boxes of trophies that Lucy had won over the years. She found one in particular that she’d seen in a photo at Lucy’s mum’s house. She remembered her mum showing her through the photo album and explaining that it had been the first trophy she’d won. She pulled it from the box and took it to the kitchen sink where she washed the dust from it and dried it.

“What’s that?” Lucy asked, joining her.

“The first trophy you won…I remember your mum telling me about it.”

Lucy picked up the trophy and looked it over before putting it back down on the counter and shaking her head. She took her girlfriend’s face in her hands gently and kissed her for the first time in a week. They moaned as they softened into each other, relishing the feel and taste of each other.

“Remind me what I did to deserve you?”

“Hm. Well you are pretty good with your mouth…”

“Oh?” She asked as her hands found her waist. “Tell me more.”

“I was talking about the compliments you give me. What were you talking about?” YFN replied cheekily.

“God I should have had sex with you in London.”

“It…wouldn’t have been appropriate.”

“Appropriate? Sex with us is always appropriate. I can fuck you when I want.”

Everything Lucy said triggered that horniness in her. YFN’s breath caught and she bit her lip.

Lucy’s eyes darkened and she moved her head closer to YFN’s, her thumb freeing her lip from her teeth.

“That’s mine. I didn’t say you could bite it.”

She turned towards the counter just to catch her breath, though Lucy liked her out of breath and out of control. They’d both been waiting far too long to be together again. According to their standards, of course. An hour was too long to be apart never mind a week. Lucy came behind her, trapping her between herself and the counter, her arms coming around her to slide under her shirt.

YFN tilted her head back, relishing the fact that she was shorter than her girlfriend as her lips found that soft flesh under Lucy’s chin and settled there. She freed one of her hands and slid it behind her and between their bodies, finding Lucy’s core and teasing her by rubbing her through her pants. Lucy groaned and rocked her hips, finding friction in her hand as she pressed YFN’s body back to her, trapping her teasing hand between them.

Lucy groaned again and pulled YFN’s hand out.

“Unfair.”

YFN sucked on that soft flesh sweetly as Lucy gripped her waist and rocked her hips into her girlfriend’s ass. YFN was in a mood, the same one Lucy tended to drag out of her often, and she braced against the counter, pushing her ass back into Lucy. Lucy gasped and her rocking turned into more of a grinding and she found that perfect spot she could feel through her pants. One of Lucy’s hands slid up the front of her shirt and grabbed her breast roughly, the other following suit shortly after as YFN’s back arched and her hand came up and over her shoulder, gripping the back of Lucy’s hair. Lucy’s mouth found the side of her neck and bit and sucked as a good reminder who was in charge. Her thumbs flicked over her nipples a few times as their little teasing gradually became more out of hand with each grind.

Lucy readjusted at one point and she had YFN bent over the counter, the cool surface hardening her nipples through her shirt as Lucy held the back of her neck down with one hand and her hip with the other. YFN couldn’t help but moan as Lucy’s leg manipulated hers apart further and she rocked her hips forward, grinding her hard into the counter. YFN loved this, the feeling of absolutely no control as Lucy made sure she knew who was in charge. YFN’s upper half moved against the cool countertop almost as if Lucy were actually fucking her.

Lucy leant forwards and kissed her back through her shirt.

“You’re a little tease, aren’t you?”

“I love teasing you…” she admitted and wriggled her ass under the pressure of Lucy’s pelvis, as if to prove a point. She did.

Lucy broke then and gripped one hand in her hair, pulling her torso back up like that, her back arched tight.

“Bed. Now.”

“No, Luce…”

That surprised Lucy. Her hand tightened in her hair and her mouth found her ear, biting the lobe before speaking into it.

“What.” It didn’t sound like a question, but it was. A challenge to say it again.

“P..please Luce.” She begged. “Please fuck me here first. I can’t make it to the bedroom yet.”

She wasn’t beyond begging at this point. Lucy was thinking. She could feel it and hear in it the way she breathed into her ear, like she was fighting herself.

“Please.” She begged again. “I’ve missed you. Please, then you can h…have me whatever way you want me.”

She felt Lucy shiver behind her. “You’re lucky I’m in a charitable mood.”

YFN shuddered as her core ached for Lucy. Yes. Yes.

She wriggled her shorts and underwear down for Lucy excitedly before she was again pressed back to the counter, her cheek and nipples finding that coolness. Lucy’s hand stayed in her hair, holding her down, while her other hand slid down the palm of her stunning ass, right down to where YFN was utterly desperate for her. Lucy’s fingertips touched lightly and noticed YFN’s core was soaked. Dripping. Clenching and unclenching around nothing.

Lucy groaned when she saw how desperate she was.

In any other scenario YFN would have been embarrassed, but here with her Lucy, she was happily surprised that she wasn’t.

“I missed you…” she whimpered again.

Lucy’s jaw locked at those words. She attempted to regain a modicum of self-control, but it was very, very difficult. She didn’t want to fuck around. She wanted to fuck the orgasm out of her so she could drag her to the bedroom and do all sorts of things to her into the early hours of the morning. She tightened her grip on her hair as she thrust two fingers in harshly. She knew her body could handle it. YFN cried out and her body jerked over the counter and then she moaned at the feeling.

“Yes!” This was exactly what she wanted. She’d missed the feeling of Lucy’s fingers. God, they filled her.

Lucy paused for a second, enjoying the desperate feel of YFN’s pussy clenching and unclenching around her fingers.

Then, she began a ruthless assault in and out, knowing it was exactly what she needed. YFN was so vocal, Lucy could barely hear the loud, wet noises of her fingers going in and out of her desperate girlfriend.

“Aaargh…argh yes! Yes! L…Luce! Thank you… argghh fuuuuuuck. Fuck me. Please don’t stop! Please, Luce!”

That encouraged Lucy to fuck her harder than she’d ever done before with her fingers as they slammed knuckle deep into her relentlessly, the pounding sound similar to the strap.

“Please don’t stop!” She cried desperately. “Please don’t stop! P…please! Argh! Lucy!”

Her body clenched tighter than it ever had done, Lucy barely able to move her fingers in and out. Every fibre in YFN’s body locked as she whimpered through that orgasm, Lucy fucking her through it.

Lucy found herself so turned on that she’d barely lasted thirty seconds under her. Oh, tonight was going to be great.

Lucy let her go and pulled her shorts back up.

“I did my job. Now you do yours.” YFN managed to get herself back upright and turn around to her girlfriend. Lucy took her jaw in one hand. “I want you naked and dripping by the time I get in there.”

Lucy had taken the edge off, but YFN was still in a mood, her eyes dark.

“Half done already.” She kissed Lucy’s surprised, horny face and ducked past her to the bedroom.

(To be continued…)

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saintlucretia · 3 months

Text

Melancholy Of a Sinner

Pairings: James Patrick March x Female!Reader

Warnings: Smoking. Alcohol. Mentions of murder. Blood. Killings. Hurt/Comfort. Mr. March.

Summary: Y/N was once James's protege, but got killed by John Lowe.

A/N: I have no idea what is this actually. I'm very unsure about this. Summer vibes yay.

Life became something beyond reality. It was past. Past that faded. Like a fever dream. Something that felt real but wasn't anymore. Cold limbs and infinite longing.

There was no point in food because my tongue had no taste. Fruits weren't sweet, meat wasn't fresh, it all felt dead as well. Maybe that's because I put food in a dead mouth.

Alcohol made my blood colder and sometimes it felt easier to breathe after two glasses of absinthe. But it was probably my imagination.

A few months have passed since my throat was slit. I still feel it sometimes. Cold and rough blade against my skin. Warm and sticky blood on my chest. Smooth and strong hands gripping my shoulders. Nobody could know that John Lowe would get off his bonkers for no fucking reason. Maybe he really believed that I was one of the greatest sinners, who deserved death. Maybe he wanted to be the only protege that Mr. March had. It doesn’t really matter now. I guess they call it the wrong place, the wrong time.

There was little to do at Cortez. The hotel was dying. The only exciting activity here was killing newcomers, but I quickly got bored of it. Killings made sense when I was alive. Now it was just a childish game. Besides, there was no point in getting this place even more crowded.

It was approximately midday. I was walking through a dimly lit hall, passing guest rooms. The carpet made slurping sounds under my shoes, it probably was someone's blood. I pulled out a pack of Lucky Strikes. Nicotine didn't work on my body either, but I liked the habit. I held a cigarette between my lips and tried to light it. The lighter was out. Damn it.

“Let me help.” A deep voice with an almost comical old American accent. In a second a hand was brought to my cheek and lit my cigarette.

I took a deep drag and exhaled a cloud of smoke.

“Thank you.”

“My pleasure, darling.” March chuckled. “Mind my company? Or do you have plans?”

I could see the amusement in his eyes. He found sick pleasure in teasing. Nobody here ever had any plans. We were just walking through the halls and spontaneously murdering poor fellows who came across.

“Stay if you want,” I muttered, exhaling smoke.

“You look like you need a drink,” He said playfully.

“Really?” I asked sarcastically.

I brought the cigarette to my lips again and took another drag.

“Dearest, believe me, a few glasses of the finest wine from my collection, and all your worries will fade away.” James smiled.

I sighed.

“Lead the way.” I took him by the hand.

We slowly walked to his chambers. It was summer. The sun dimly penetrated the threadbare curtains in the hallway. Guests probably were crowding LA beaches. Well, guests that managed to stay alive.

“How long have you been dead already? A hundred years?” I asked and my voice echoed from the walls.

“Something around that number. I see no need in counting. Why so curious?”

“It’s hard to cope with the thought that I am going to suffer for eternity.”

We turned around the corner.

“My, my, such dread thoughts in such a pretty head. Why do you see this as eternal suffering, when it could be an eternal delight?” He sounded amused.

“You can’t be serious.” I sighed.

He chuckled.

"Darling, but imagine the possibilities. You can do whatever your heart desires without worrying about the consequences." James opened the door to his room, letting me go first. "Please, come in.”

The room was dark aside from the light seeping through the curtains, casting a dim glow over the interior. A sense of unreality hovered over the scene, as though the shadows and half-light were playing tricks on my eyes. I have never been here in the daytime. Of course, I have visited room 64 hundreds of times, but it usually was a night business meeting, where we discussed killing plans that I was going to commit. In the daylight it all was different.

"Please, have a seat." He gestured towards the plush armchair beside the bed.

The carpet made a soft sound as James walked over to the small, elegant bar in the corner of the room. The dim light cast strange shadows over the shelves and the various array of bottles, making the place look even more sinister, yet oddly comforting. I sat in the armchair.

He opened one of the cabinets and started to look through his collection of wines.

"Cabernet? Pinotage? Or perhaps a good old classic Bordeaux would be to your liking, darling?" He smirked and took a look at me over his shoulder.

“Your taste,” I answered nonchalantly, looking at the curtained window.

"Glad that you trust me that much." He teased.

James picked up a bottle and took out two crystal glasses. He poured the wine and walked back.

"Only because I don’t care anymore if you poisoned my drink." I chuckled.

He gave me one glass and sat on the bed, in front of me.

“Nonsense, darling.” He laughed, swirling the dark liquid around the glass for a moment, and took a sip. “Poison is vulgar. I’d rather stab you.”

“Vulgar?” I laughed, tasting alcohol on my tongue.

March smiled, his dark eyes glinting in the dim light.

"Poison is rather a cowardly method, you should admit this," he said, his eyes never leaving mine. "Stabbing, on the other hand, there is an art in that.”

“I almost managed to forget how sick you are.” I smiled, crossing my legs.

“Careful, darling. I have a weakness for pretty women with sharp tongues.” He set his glass on the bedside table. “And talking about ‘sick’, my dear,” he said, his tone light and playful, “you have a glint in your eye that suggests you are not entirely repulsed by the idea of being stabbed by me. Not to mention you also find murder entertaining.”

“Don’t put your perverse fantasies on me, March.”

He smiled.

“I got a bit carried away, didn’t I?”

"Oh, just a touch." I chuckled, taking another sip of wine.

“You know, it’s good to have someone with whom I can discuss my… little hobby.”

“Our hobby.” I corrected him. “Even though I am kind of retired.”

He chuckled. I could see him looking at me, studying my every move. I could feel his eyes wandering across my neck, the scar that I didn’t care to cover, my collarbones, and the exposed part of my chest. I was used to men looking at me like I was a piece of meat. But his gaze was different. Gaze of a gentleman, God forbid.

"You know, people call it morbid, but I like to think of it as... artistic.” He said, his voice low, almost whispering. James leaned forward, his hands resting on his own knees. "There is something so... intimate about it, don’t you think? Taking someone’s life."

“Twisted perspective,” I said, lighting another cigarette with matches that were on the bedside table.

March leaned back, a sly smile playing on his lips as he took a sip of his wine.

"Perhaps." He set the glass back. “But tell me, love, aren't we all twisted in our own way? You, me, and everyone who has ever stepped foot in Cortez."

I chuckled softly at his statement, the smoke curling up towards the ceiling.

"I suppose you’re right. I think I lost my grip on 'normal' long ago."

I took a drag, holding the cigarette with my fingers, and looked out the window. It became lighter as the sun was starting to peek past the curtains, casting a warm glow across the room.

“I am glad that you died,” he said quietly.

I looked at him puzzled, my hand frozen holding the cigarette between my fingers.

"Is this your strange attempt to comfort me?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. “Because I thought I was an extension of your career.”

March chuckled at my question, rosing slowly and towering over me beside the armchair. He reached out and gently traced the scar along my neck.

“You were way more than that, darling.” He said, his fingers tracing the rough skin where the blade cut my throat.

My breath hitched slightly as his cold fingers brushed over my skin. The touch felt almost intimate.

"Enough lies, I was nothing more than just a toy soldier on your board game," I said, exhaling a cloud of smoke.

"Maybe in some way you were, but I would never compare you to a pawn though." He said, his fingers tracing lower and stopping on my collarbones.

The sun was shining in stripes between the curtains, falling over the bed and over his face, lighting up the dark irises of his eyes.

"You always had the makings of a queen." He took my hand and left a light kiss on my knuckles.

"And I thought The Countess was supposed to play this role," I mumbled nonchalantly, taking a drag of my cigarette and averting my eyes from his gaze.

I sensed his discomfort as I mentioned her. James leaned in, his face dangerously close to mine. He took the cigarette from my fingers and brought it to his lips, taking a long drag. He exhaled a cloud of smoke in my direction. “Darling, you know very well that she is nothing more than a part of my past.”

“How touching,” I commented.

March raised an eyebrow at my sarcasm. He took another drag from my cigarette, his eyes never leaving my face.

"You’ve never seemed to be jealous, darling, and now I hear bitterness in your voice. What has changed?"

He took his glass of wine and swirled the liquid around, watching it slosh inside of the goblet. I sighed, leaned back in the armchair, and pressed the cold crystal of my empty glass to my forehead.

"Don't tell me you have grown fond of me." He whispered, his tone slightly mocking.

I let my head fall back on the back of the armchair, my eyes gazing aimlessly at the ceiling. The shadows from the curtains danced across the wall, a constant reminder of our ghostly existence. Maybe I deserved suffering. All murderers do, don't they?

I forced myself to chuckle. "Don't flatter yourself. Your change of attitude merely amuses me." I replied.

I watched him take another drag of my cigarette, the smoke curling around his face. I couldn't help but think how he looked like a fallen angel. A damn handsome one. I always admired him. He was my mentor, he taught me everything I knew. Sometimes I looked up at him like he was my God. After all, I had no one except him.

I watched his dark eyes, trying to decipher what he was thinking.

"You seem distracted," March said, his eyes scanning my face.

My hands were shaking. Damn, I needed a cigarette. I looked up at him. Without a word, he handed me the cigarette. His fingers brushed against mine fleetingly as I took it. I exhaled a shaky breath and brought it to my lips. The familiar smell of tobacco filled my lungs as I inhaled deeply.

"Tsk-tsk, darling, you look like a junkie craving their dosage." He said in a condescending tone.

“So what?”

“Cigarettes will not give you what you are craving.” his voice low.

"And what am I craving then, oh, wise one?" I retorted, taking another drag of my cigarette.

March chuckled, sitting back on the edge of the bed. He knew that I depended on him and his opinion. And he used that.

"You and I both have never had a normal life." He said. “You crave peace.”

"And what makes you say that?" I snapped. I inhaled another lungful of smoke and exhaled it out angrily. "You don't know what I want or need."

March chuckled.

"Oh, love, I know exactly what you need," he said. His voice was velvety. “I met you as a scared little girl and now you are a strong and independent woman. I know you very well. I practically made you who you are right now.”

I scowled at his last words. My fingers tightened around the cigarette, knuckles turning white.

"It was easy to manipulate the little girl." I snapped, my tone cold and harsh. “But you can’t do this now.”

March just sat there, his eyes fixed on me, that damn smirk still present in his expression. Like he was enjoying my anger. He was stronger. I felt my eyes treacherously filling with tears.

James got up and approached me, towering over me with his tall stature. “Shh, little girl.” He took the cigarette from my shaky fingers, put it in the ashtray, and pressed me against his chest, his arms wrapping around my frame.

I buried my face in his chest, trying to hide the tears that quietly rolled down my cheeks. My body trembled slightly. I wasn't the type to get hysterical. At least, not one of those who become hysterical while crying.

"I thought I was over this," I whispered, my voice barely above a faint. “I don’t want to be dead. I don’t want to be alone.”

March didn't say anything. He just held me there, one hand holding me against him, the other caressing my hair. I couldn't deny how good it felt to be held like that. Like I was something precious. I closed my eyes, my fingers digging into the fabric of James's shirt. His lips pressed against my hair, and he inhaled the scent of it.

“You can handle it. You are a strong girl,” he whispered. “You always were. That’s why I picked you.”

I hated myself for being so vulnerable. Especially in front of James March. Disgrace for a killer. I have always known that I could never be greater than him. But now I probably don’t even deserve a place at The Devil’s Night.

I looked up at him. “I'm sorry for disappointing you.”

March shook his head, a flicker of something uncertain passing through his eyes.

"You never disappoint me, darling," he said.

James cupped my face gently in his hands and brushed the remaining tears away from my cheeks with his thumbs.

"You committed six murders, being only twenty years old, dear. I am very proud of what you have become.” He smiled gently.

I leaned my cheek into his warm palm, taking a ragged breath. “I shouldn’t have cried in front of you,” I whispered, my voice hoarse.

“There is nothing to be ashamed of, dear. I’ve always known that you are sensitive underneath your strength,” He gently stroked my hair. “That’s why I decided that it would be better for you to stay here with me.”

I froze. “What do you mean?”

“You must understand, I couldn’t let you die anywhere else.” He pulled me closer, his thumb brushing against my bottom lip. “So our friend John just helped me with this problem. But it's okay now, you don't have to worry.”

I felt like my heart died once again.

“No.” I pulled away from him in fear. “No no no. You couldn’t-”

“I could.” He grabbed my wrists firmly, holding me in place. "And I did."

“You ordered him to finish me?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper.

“Darling.” He cupped my cheek gently. His voice quickly changed back to soothing.

I grabbed an empty glass from the bedside table and smashed it on the edge of the table. The remained part of the crystal glass was sharp enough and in a second I stabbed it into James’s throat.

Blood gushed out of the wound, staining his shirt a dark color. March staggered and fell onto the floor with a gasp. His hands clutched at the wound on the neck. I stumbled back, staring at the image in front of me. The glass shattered into a million pieces. They glittered like little diamonds against the dark carpet. His blood slowly drowned little crystals.

I stood there watching him dying, knowing that he would return in seconds. I pulled out another cigarette and lighted it.

“Feel better now?” I heard his voice behind me.

I shrugged, inhaling the tobacco from the cigarette and exhaling it out. I didn't look back at him.

"A little bit," I answered.

“You have an eternity to forgive me, darling." I felt his hands on my shoulders. “And you know that I can wait.”

I stayed silent for a moment, taking another puff from my cigarette.

"I'm not sure if forever is enough," I muttered.

“I'll always be there anyway,” he said and I felt his lips on my cheek. “I love you.”

One single tear silently rolled down my cheek and disappeared under my chin. Probably I loved him too.

#james march #jpm #jpm x reader #ahs hotel #ahs fandom #american horror story #james patrick march x reader #james march x reader #evan peters

90 notes · View notes

dollfaced-erin · 8 months

Note

Ngl the sugar daddy jing yuan reader fic lowkey intrigues me, like why did Jing Yuan resort to something as finding a sugar baby? Was he stressed over something as well? A relationship problem? Was he that lonely?? I feel it would be nice to explore!

i love this request. it took me a while to find the right songs and good scenarios, but i got you covered, bby ! I MIGHT NAME THIS SERIES THO ! it's a WIP obv unless until i finish the main storyline and will take longer time to accommodate to unlike the main story (and that one already takes an eternity) do enjoy the treat !

Taglist : -

@rebeccawinters , @nayukiyukihira , @pix-stuff , @fluffy-koalala , @swivy123 , @starxao , @kaoyamamegami , @kimura-uzuri , @rsvye , @seikouryuu , @just-here-reading , @matsulovesyou, @sincerely-aaronette , @prettyliliy , @chibiduck , @hermosacolibri , @la-diablas-thingz , @farelady-fate , @everi-eve , @shadowfoxey , @helloyuki , @immahuman , @samptlay , @boomie-123 , @airentia , @eden-absorbed

𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘 𝖙𝖔 𝖓𝖔𝖙𝖊 ! : ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴀ ᴍᴏᴅᴇʀɴ ᴀᴜ , ᴊɪɴɢ ʏᴜᴀɴ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ , ᴅᴏᴇꜱ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏʀʀᴇʟᴀᴛᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏʀɪɢɪɴᴀʟ ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴅʀᴀɢᴏɴ'ꜱ ᴄʀᴀᴅʟᴇ

𝖙𝖗𝖎𝖌𝖌𝖊𝖗 𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌 ! :

ˢᵗʳᵉˢˢ , ᵃⁿˣⁱᵉᵗʸ , ᵐᵉⁿᵗⁱᵒⁿˢ ᵒᶠ ˢᵉˡᶠ ʰᵃʳᵐ , ᶜᵒᵐᶠᵒʳᵗ ᵃⁿᵍˢᵗ, EXTRA LONG.

Another day...another report.

Scratch that. There were hundreds of reports on his desk as is. And they were piling as time grew on. Not like it would ever stop. They just kept adding up, accumulating like the spam emails in his iMac monitor before him.

And his secretary was of no help either. Sure, she did her work mighty fine ! Being on time, punctual, taking all the calls and planning his meeting and fixing up his schedule. But that makes him feel more annoyed than ever.

She's just too punctual. And she expects him to be like that too.

She was always rushing him to do his work, always nagging him on and on to pay attention to the business proposals, to look over the reports, remind him again and again that he had lunch with the Lead Researcher from that growing Space Research Centre built under the name of one of the most well-known geniuses known to mankind.

Herta's Space Research Centre...and her Lead Researcher who was currently managing the Centre on her own... Asta...

What time was the meeting again...?

"Remember ! You have a meeting with Lady Asta from the research center at 2pm this afternoon ! Don't be late ! It's a crucial investment !" He heard Fu Xuan's voice ring in his mind.

Oh...2pm. He had time before that.

He sighed in his chair, leaning back into his leather chair as he ran a hand through his messy silver hair. Lazy golden eyes glanced at the time showed on the standby mode on his monitor...

"1 : 45..." he read aloud, his voice carrying his lazy tone through the silent room.

He thought about it.

1 : 45 ?!?!

He never bolted out of his seat faster than he ever had before.

"Hahaha !" The man laughed as Jing Yuan retold the tale of the earlier day. A hand landed on his back, slapping it playfully as his friend found humor in his troubles.

"Don't laugh, asshole." Jing Yuan said, a frown of frustration on his lips. But it slowly curled up into one of amusement seeing his friend like this.

"You're really finding my concerns entertaining, don't you ?"

"Sorry, sorry. My bad." The man said, raising his cup of alcoholic beverage to his lips, sipping it elegantly.

"But then, what happened ? You rushed out of your building to the meeting place. Did you see Lady Asta ?" Blade asked, looking at his friend with a smirk on his lips.

"Oh, you bet. I found her as soon as I got there. But fortunately for me, she had just arrived herself. So, I wasn't too late, nor did I make her wait." Jing Yuan said with a relieved sigh.

The two were meeting up in quite the high-class bar. Somewhere that had classical music playing, dim lighting, expensive drinks of the finest quality, quiet chatter and the clinking of glasses and extravagant attire. It wasn't your average bar. Heck, there were barely any ruthless drunkards in places like this, those who caused ruckus when they drank too much.

"But Fu Xuan, that girl..." he pondered, shaking his head at the mention of his secretary. "She really needs to learn how to loosen up and stop asking me day after day when will I hand my company over to her."

"Oh ? She's blatantly asking you to make her the heir to the corporation ? Very...brazen, of her." Blade said with a furrow of his brows and nodded his head.

"It doesn't get any easier, Blade. Believe me." Jing Yuan sighed.

It was just another day in his life. He was the CEO of one of the top companies in the country, or even the world ! The Xianzhou Alliance was branched into 6 franchises under one brand, though usually known individually. Fanghu, Luofu, Zhuming, Xuling, Yaoqing, and Yuque.

And Jing Yuan just happened to be the CEO of the Luofu branch, also being the youngest and one of longest reigning ones at that. Not only that, he was known for his good looks, his intellect and gentlemanly manners.

Blade just happened to be his friend from college and was the main mechanical engineers for the bigger productions of the company, building his name to be known far and wide for a man as young as him. He was known as Yingxing, formerly. A nerdy young man that loved art.

But after a certain incident, he dyed his hair black and changed his alias to Blade before joining a group of debt collectors that made quite the name for themselves.

The Stellaron Hunters.

Jing Yuan sighed, raising a hand at the bartender for another glass of bourbon. He needed a little more liquor to forget the tension that night.

"So, of course the meeting didn't end there, right ? I heard that Herta was planning on opening a university to give opportunities to more...brilliant minds. Perhaps they wanted to collaborate with the Intelligentsia Guild ? Heard they too opened up a new university recently." Blade asked, pouring another glass of Koshu sake for himself.

He wasn't too much of a fan of the harder liquors. He loved to savor his drinks and take his time relishing in the bitter taste. Like the little things around him. He loved to watch drama unfold, especially if he wasn't involved in it.

Even better if he was the cause behind it.

But he wouldn't do that to Jing Yuan. His dude needed a break. Especially since they have known each other for a couple of years now.

"Yeah." Jing Yuan said, nodding his head at his friend. "I suppose you could put it that way. Lady Asta wanted to meet up to ask about the funding for the research in the space station. Now that you mention it, I think she also said something about investing for the university ?"

"I don't know anymore, Blade..." Jing Yuan sighed, hand over his eyes. "After that meeting i came back to more papers and reports. Then tomorrow, the meetings and the negotiations...the business proposals, photoshoots and interviews and not to mention the stalkers recently. Fu Xuan is literally gonna snag my ass one day if she really thinks I'm as incompetent as I look, I swear to the Aeons..."

He let out a tired chuckle, leaning over and setting his elbow on the table. His friend looked at him worriedly, knowing that it might not sound like much, but for Jing Yuan to openly admit his problems like this...

"Why don't you ask her to loosen up your schedule ?" Blade asked him softly, a hand on Jing Yuan's back.

"And listen to her lecture me about time management ? I'd save at the very least 2 hours of my time reading reports." He chuckled dryly, shaking his head and pulled his hand away from his eyes.

"That's not gonna work, Blade. She'll say I have nothing better to do in my time anyway...I go home with those uncompleted documents but I still have to keep thinking how I'm going to arrange my thoughts for tomorrow."

Then they heard a small commotion. There was a man slamming his hand onto the table, and a young lady before him. She looked firm and resolute, not even flinching as the man before her expressed his distaste and anger to her.

"For the last time, I'm saying no. I told you, I don't have the money for it !" The young lady said calmly, her hands spread in front of her to exaggerate her point.

"You brought me here, and then expect me to sign up for Herta's Space Research school to study biotechnology under Madam Ruan Mei ? Do you have any idea how crazy the fees will be ?" The girl asked again, folding her arms over her chest as she merely glared at the man that stood in anger before her.

"Plus you know that I'm already struggling with fees in the Yaoqing Academy is already crazy enough. And that's with scholarship. I'd then have to pay Yaoqing for stopping halfway and my scholarship, then pay the registration fees of Herta's school."

"Imagine having to go to some prestigious, preppy place filled with studying, that I don't even have time to go work to buy myself dinner." The lady stressed with a shake of her head.

"But this is your opportunity !"

"I...I cant afford it..." she admitted softly.

Jing Yuan's gaze softened as he looked at this troubled lady. He wished he could help, watching her being pressured like this. But he wasn't a charity... if he helped her, many more would come to him for the same reason...

But it was a waste that a beautiful young lady like her didn't get the opportunity she deserved. She looked like she was well-versed in studying, and going to Herta's university would secure her a bright future working with the Intelligentsia Guild, or Herta's Space Station or the research facility, or even the IPC !

"I cant keep dating someone who doesn't have standards, (Y/n). My family will look down on me ! And I'm always paying for you when we go on dates, you never spend for me !" The man said with anger present in his tone. Then the young lady before him bit her bottom lip, her eyes trailing off somewhere else.

"Wh-what did you expect from dating me ? You know I'm poor. I work part time at a cafe, juggling assignments, bills and chores. I...I cant always have the luxury of spoiling you ! And you yourself wanted to go on dates, promising me that you'll handle the bill." The lady said, tears in her bright eyes.

"Or not you'll never go on dates with me !" The boyfriend exclaimed, making the girl, (Y/n), feel even guiltier.

Then he slammed his hand again on the table. "Enough ! We're over. I cant keep dating a leech who'd do nothing to improve her life even when there's a path !"

Then the man stormed off, leaving the lady alone and humiliated in the middle of the expensive bar with all eyes on her. She didn't care about that, she was mainly troubled on the fact that she'd have to cover the bills herself...

'How interesting...' Jing Yuan thought to himself as he looked at the pitiful lover.

She was a beautiful young lady, perhaps around 22 years old ? She seemed pretty young. Perhaps she's in the middle of pursuing a degree ? To change majors means she must be pretty early into the registration. Foundation, perhaps...

She looked very ordinary, unlike the others in this bar. She had beautiful (h/c) hair, the brightest (e/c) eyes that shone under the warm lights of the bar. But she looked tired. She was broke. Wallet, and heart.

Jing Yuan couldn't hold back anymore. He didn't like seeing a young woman as innocent as hardworking as her getting dumped just because she didn't have the money. What kind of asshole does that, anyway ?!

Jing Yuan got up from his place, ignoring Blade's voice of questions as he walked over to the young woman who sat alone.

"(Y/n), right ?" Jing Yuan asked, and she looked up, those bright (e/c) eyes, glistening with tears as she sadly looked into his warm honey eyes.

(Y/n) seemed startled and quickly wiped her eyes. "Yes, th-that's me." She said, nodding her head.

"See, I don't do this often, but..." Jing Yuan started as he sat before her. "I'm quite certain the entire establishment heard what happened between you and...well...your...ex lover...?"

He grimaced a little at the word 'ex', knowing it must still be a touchy subject for her. But she didn't seem to mind and just nodded her head.

"Yeah, I saw this coming, obviously." (Y/n) said with a light chuckle. "I knew we weren't going to work out. But he was persistent, constantly egging me on and on to date him, that one day I just said yes."

"Well, it seems like you're going through a rough patch, and I know you just want to head home and sleep it off. So, I want to help you out." Jing Yuan said, taking the bill on the table and reading out the receipt list.

"Let me pay for tonight."

(Y/n)'s eyes widened as she looked at him, blinking owlishly as she heard his offer. This...this random man was willing to pay for the receipt ? The orders she didn't even indulge in ? She felt guilt eating away at her stomach, making her fidget in her seat.

But what choice did she have...?

That's right. She didn't.

So she nodded her head.

"Wow, didn't know you could be quite the gentleman, oh CEO Jing Yuan." Blade said as his friend came back after seeing off the woman named (Y/n).

Jing Yuan nodded his head, feeling a light blush dust his cheeks from the teasing manner of his friend. But he brushed it aside quickly, composing himself to wish away the blush as quickly as it came.

"I just couldn't leave her there. It would be quite...distasteful." Jing Yuan said, taking his seat back next to Blade.

"Mm...but she was quite the catch, wasn't she ? Too bad she ended up with a sorry excuse as a boyfriend as him." Blade said with a laugh, his Adam's apple bobbing as his voice rumbled.

"She was indeed beautiful, yes." Jing Yuan said softly, nodding his head as he reminded himself of the young woman. "It was funny how she didn't even recognize who I am. Most young women would."

He caught Blade smirking at him at which he quickly composed himself with a fake smug smile back on his lips.

"Anyway..." Jing Yuan said, looking at Blade with raised eyebrows. "How are things with you and...Dan Jia ?"

Blade immediately was caught off guard with the question, his pale face dusted with a red blush that went all the way up to his ears. Dan Jia was one of the heirs to a multi-billion organization that was partnered with the Xianzhou Alliance, more known towards their love of arts and entertainment.

And Dan Jia was the woman that had loved him before and after his change. The only person who understood and still stood by him no matter, and it wasn't like any one could oppose her, anyway.

"A-ahem...Dan Jia and I..." Blade stuttered, turning away for a moment as he slowly sipped at his drink.

"We...got engaged." The male said and Jing Yuan glared at him.

"And you didn't even tell me ?" "I was going to when you were in a more chill mood ! Don't blame me trying to be considerate of your feelings !"

Then Blade got an idea. He smiled widely, looking at his friend before uncharacteristically clapping his hands, something he did when he had a mind-blowing revolutionary thought. Usually it meant good news for the company, or friends, so Jing Yuan was very intrigued to hear.

"How about you find a lover ?" Blade asked with a pat on Jing Yuan's back.

Jing Yuan had never heard a solution so stupid from this former engineer before. He sighed, and slapped a hand onto his forehead.

"No no, hear me out for real here." Blade said, trying to pull back Jing Yuan's interest. "If Fu Xuan says that you have nothing to do in your free time, find someone that can act as something to fill in time you need. You cant put hobbies, because hobbies are meant to be something to be done in your free time."

"But what if you had a commitment ?"

Then Jing Yuan looked at Blade like he made the best idea ever. That actually made so much sense ! But...

"What if I get even more stressed from it ?" Jing Yuan asked, looking at Blade.

"Based on the trends right now, students are more frequently found on dating sites, and you could start from there. Give Fu Xuan some reasons to throw her off the scent and make sure she doesn't schedule every second you manage to breathe in the aircon of your private office." Blade explained again, his hands making and tracing gestures onto the surface of the bar top.

'Students, huh...? Perhaps...he might even...' Jing Yuan wondered.

"You mean, be a sugar daddy ?" Jing Yuan asked with a raise of his eyebrow, and his friend laughed.

"Not necessarily." Blade said. "Give it a feel, take on a few blind dates. You have nothing to lose. If it doesn't work out, tell it straight, then proceed to leave."

"You know how happy I am with Dan Jia. Perhaps it's also time for you to find someone too, Jing Yuan."

So he followed the advice of his friend. Blade was right, he didn't have much to lose if he played his cards right and used his professionalism right.

He downloaded the dating app. And to make things look a little easier to filter the horny, money-hungry women who never left a shred of decency on their profiles, he put on the status of 'CEO. In need of a sugar baby, willing to spend time with me.'

He kept swiping left, left and left. The ones he swiped right on were also just as unsavory, so he kept searching. Until he saw this one account he felt drawn to.

And swiped right.

After a bit of talking, they decided to meet up at a student friendly cafe as to not pressure her. He was feeling quite peppy about it, a light blush of happiness on his cheeks as his feet tapped impatiently on the wooden floors of the cozy cafe.

He made sure to dress casually, a mere dark grey sweater and a pair of white slacks. His hair was still in it's usual messy style, but he tried to make himself look a little presentable, tying it up into a ponytail. It was still messy, but he tried.

He was meeting up with a young lady who was a student in need of help for her tuition loans and apartment bills she couldn't handle on her own. But though she reached out to him, she was often times hesitant to find a 'sugar daddy'.

His heart was pounding in his chest. He never felt this excited before. It had been long since they started talking and she was finally comfortable with meeting him after so many times of denying.

Then he saw her. The girl he was waiting for, shyly enter the cafe with reddened cheeks as she tucked back her (h/c) hair that fell over her face from lowering her gaze so much.

"M-Mr. Jing Yuan..." She greeted as she pulled the seat before him.

"Miss (Y/n). What a pleasure."

He had been searching for her all this while, and he finally found her.

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