#Lea Imagine

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

just for tonight

a/n: sure, I was vigilantly working on a different wip (a very long one that needed a lot of strength to get through) but then this whole fantasy came to me and i just couldn't stop myself... at least i downgraded the idea from a full-fledged series (which i sadly very much do not have the time for) to just a slutty little one shot in an au that i can always pop back into whenever the itch pops up (or when anyone has a slutty request for it hehe).

summary: before you could even consider the possible consequences, a desperate request then fell from your lips, “well, what if I’m not asking you to be with me? What if it’s just for tonight? What if I’m only asking you to be with me for one night? Would you give me that?” you blinked up at him, scarcely breathing at all, “would you be mine just till the sun comes up?” 

warnings: bodyguard!bucky barnes x reader, smut, reader's mom is the british ambassador to france, age gap (10-15 years), tattooed!bucky (both a metal arm and tattoos as picked in a poll by you), beefy!bucky, forbidden romance, posh political party, alcohol consumption, wet dream, lingerie, stockings, one night stand (except we already know those fools can't keep it to just one night), kissing, dirty talk, manhandling, size kink, oral, fingering, impact play, squirting, gaping, belly bulge, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie

word count: 4907

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“You sure, you don’t want some?” you squinted over at your bodyguard as you lowered the champagne flute from your lips, “this shit costs more than my dress, which is really saying something,” you pointed to the red silk gown that hung from your frame, “this is Dior.”

“I’m good, miss,” Bucky uttered, tight-lipped as always. 

“Right, sorry,” you sat the glass down at the tall table you stood beside, “can’t drink while on duty.”

Posh parties such as the one tonight were always a bit of a drag to get through. Even though you’d been hauled along for most of your life, they’d never gotten any more amusing. 

But when your mother hired Barnes to be your personal bodyguard a few months back, the thought of getting dolled up just to have a bunch of provoking politicians talk your ear off about ideas you’d never in a million years support, somehow didn’t seem as bad as it used to now that he was constantly at your side. 

It had been a little incident involving your phone getting hacked, an explicit video nearly getting leaked, one that had been made for an ex who lived in another country to make the distance more barrable, and a few threatening messages from the perpetrator that had been the reason for your new shadow. 

Though you’d been resistant at first, storming into your mother’s office to state that you were a grown woman and didn’t need a babysitter just because someone tried to exploit an old sex tape that in your opinion wasn’t even that big of a deal, swiftly got squashed when a then stranger cleared his throat behind you and shared the more gruelling threats that had been made alongside the hacking. 

You’d hoped and prayed that he’d turn out to be a pain, that his personality could squash the feelings that fluttered inside of you whenever you looked at him, but unfortunately, he wasn’t an asshole. He was quiet, professional to a fault, but he wasn’t a dick. If anything, all of the silence and all of the glances to always keep track of you made the crush worse. It made you feel as if you were in a Jane Austen novel, reading between the lines of subtext your unreliable brain came up with.

“You tired?” he asked as a yawn rolled out of you. 

“Mhm,” you hummed behind the palm you had brought up to your lips. 

“The car’s ready to take you back to the embassy whenever you are.” 

A grateful smile twitched at your lip as you offered him a small nod of confirmation, “I’ll just go tell my mom.”

The ambassador, your mother, had her back turned to you as she talked business with a small group of people even though the hour had grown late. 

You waited for a sliver of a break before you tapped her on the shoulder and whispered in her ear.

“Hey, mom?” her palm found yours as she turned to look at you, “I’m gonna head home.”

“Oh, alright,” she leaned in and pressed a small peck to your cheek, “see you tomorrow, love.”

“Bye,” you gave her hand one last squeeze before heading out of the elegant venue, your guard still only a few paces behind you. 

A dusty drizzle met your skin as you exited onto the midnight streets of Paris. The sensation made you want to walk home, though you still followed Bucky to the black car already waiting and slipped in when he opened the back door for you. 

The light from the city reflected on the back of his metal hand as it gripped the steering wheel. You could faintly spot the prominent veins on the other one dance beneath the inked skin as it did the same, tattoos you still ached to discover just how far they stretched beneath his dark suit. 

Though soon your gaze flickered away from his silhouette as he drove, and fluttered out to the glittering cityscape rolling by, the vision of which swiftly lulled you to sleep. 

When you arrived home, Bucky’s steely eyes found your slumbering form in the rear-view mirror. You didn’t rouse when he opened your door and carefully picked you up into his arms. You didn’t wake either as he carried you inside, all the way up to your bedroom, and layed you down on your bed. 

Gently, he removed your heels and quietly placed them down on the hardwood floor before he grabbed your duvet and tugged it over your form. 

But just as he moved to leave your side, half asleep you caught his hand.

“Don’t go…” you murmured hazily, eyes still shut. 

And so, he didn’t.

Bucky simply reached for the tufted chair nearby and, as silently as he could, scooted it closer to the bed. 

Barely an hour passed before you woke. 

Before you even blinked open your eyes, your fingers began to slide down your body as the sinful dream you’d been blessed with still lingered in your foggy brain. 

Though when your eyes did flutter open and discovered the star of the dream sitting in a chair right next to you, your hand halted its voyage, and you sucked in a startled breath. 

“You okay?” he asked softly as you blinked a few times. 

“Uh,” the throbbing that still lingered from the dream probably wasn’t going to fade any faster with him sitting there with his unwavering stare, “yeah, I’m–, uhm…” you propped yourself up on your elbow before sitting up more, “I’m fine.” 

“Did you have a nightmare?”

“No, it wasn’t a–…” your sentence then crumbled as you sucked in a breath, “what are you doing watching me sleep?”

As you met his gaze, he then uttered, “you asked me to stay.”

Your eyes then widened, “I did?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh…” though you couldn’t recall, heat still began to bloom on your cheeks, “I’m sorry, I didn’t–”

“It's alright,” his shoulders offered a faint shrug. 

Averting your gaze, you noticed that you were still in your dress. You weren’t quite sure if it pleased you or not that Bucky didn’t try to strip it off you, though it was probably less the moral intentions and more the fantasy of him peeling it off of you that swayed you. 

“Were you just planning on sleeping in that chair all night?” you asked. 

“No,” he shook his head, “I wasn’t planning on sleeping at all.” 

A tinge of guilt stung in your chest, “I’m really sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking, I must have been asleep or something…” you then swung your legs over the side of the bed and got up. As your fingers raised up to pluck off your sparkling earrings, your feet began to carry you in the direction of your wardrobe. Dropping the jewellery off in a small porcelain bowl on the opposite bedside table, you then glanced back at your bodyguard and said, “you don’t have to stay any longer, you can go back to your room and get some sleep.” 

Offering you a nod, he then began to walk towards the door. 

Though, as you reached back to undo your dress, you abruptly uttered, “wait,” and he stopped before his steely fingers could enclose around the door handle. Turning to glance back at you, a bold request then hesitantly fell from your lips, “could you maybe help unzip me?”

He barely made a noise, simply hummed quietly in response before his slow stride carried him towards your frame as it twisted for your back to be turned to him.

When you felt his touch on the zipper, tugging it down ever so slowly, your breath came in ragged, and your eyes fluttered shut. You swore you felt his radiating heat seep into you as he exposed more of your goosebump-ridden spine. 

As the straps tumbled over your shoulders, your hands came up to your chest to hold it up even though you wished for nothing more than to let it drop before him.

And when the zipper finally reached its end, he lingered right behind you just long enough for you to catch the tether of it. Slowly, as if you were dealing with a skittish bird, you rotated around. You didn’t dare to look him in the eyes as you let yourself follow that magnetic pull you’d been trying to keep at bay. Your gaze flickered up to his lips as heated puffs of air seeped from your lungs and you slowly, hypnotically, inched closer. 

But then Bucky opened his mouth and said in a soft and quiet tone, “what are you doing?” making you halt, though not pull back. 

“Please don’t act like you don’t already know… I know you do…”

“You can’t,” he uttered, though didn’t move to walk away either as he captured your gaze, “we can’t, alright?”

“Why not?” you breathed, your eyes returning to his lips, “is it really that important for you to stay professional over everything else? Or is it that I’m just a job to you?” your heart felt as if it was gonna beat straight out of your chest, “you know I like you, I know you do. You notice everything, so of course you know. Am I right?”

A long exhale then flowed from his lungs before the faintest of nods tilted his head, “…yeah.”

“And I have eyes too, I’ve seen the way you look at me,” a shiver trickled down your spine, “so, are you really gonna just stand there and pretend you don’t feel something too? Just go back to your own room and continue to protect me like nothing’s going on?”

“Y/n, I can’t be with you,” he shook his head heavily, “you know I can’t.” 

Can’t or won’t?

Before you could even consider the possible consequences, a desperate request then fell from your lips, “well, what if I’m not asking you to be with me? What if it’s just for tonight? What if I’m only asking you to be with me for one night? Would you give me that?” you blinked up at him, scarcely breathing at all, “would you be mine just till the sun comes up?” 

As if your quiet whispers melted him completely, your bodyguard breathed, “…fuck…” and the next thing you knew, he’d grabbed your face and seized your lips. 

It was like something inside of him had snapped, something you had shattered, with the way that he kissed you as if he’d been drowning and your lips were oxygen. 

As you lost yourself in the sensation of his tongue dancing across your own, you let the red dress drop down your body, passed the sheer stockings that clung around your thighs, to the floor. Like fire, one of his hands disappeared from your cheek and ran down your frame, grazing over the black lingerie that was now exposed.  

Though heated and hungry at first, the kiss soon softened into lighter pecks. 

With his metal hand, he held your face close to his as he withdrew from the kiss, an action you weren’t quite ready for as you dreamily trailed after him a bit, longing for his lips. 

“Are you sure this is what you want?” his hot breath fanned across your features. 

“Yes,” you whispered swiftly. 

But as you dizzily blinked up at him, he simply hummed for you to elaborate, “hm?”

“Yes, I want you,” goosebumps tingled across your skin. 

“You want me to what?” his thumb swiped over your cheekbone. 

“I want you to–, to–…” you fumbled as you felt your desire drip and soak your panties, making them cling to your aching core. 

“To what, huh?” 

“To–… fuck me,” the embarrassingly desperate words tumbled out your mouth. 

“You want me to fuck you?” his unwavering stare briefly dropped to your parted lips.

“Yes,” the syllable rushed out of you. 

“Say it again,” he tilted his chin. 

“I want you to fuck me.”

“Louder,” his feet began to shift, causing yours to shuffle back as well. 

“I want you to fuck me.”

“One more time,” his hand had dropped down to your jaw and his fingers curled slightly to dent your soft cheeks. 

“I want you to fuck me, please!” 

With the hold he had on you, he swiftly dipped down and pressed his lips to yours once more. The world then fell out from under you as his grasp scooped down your frame and plucked you up.

Your arms tangled around his neck right before your back collided with the closet door and your lips tilted away from his as a short squeak slipped out. The distance however lent Bucky to let his kisses dance down the length of your neck and across your cleavage, so perfectly framed by the sheer fabric of your bra. 

Though the hickeys he began to plant across your skin made your eyes roll in your skull, your fingers still captured his tie and tugged him back up for your lips to crash against his. As you moved to push his blazer off, his sturdy grip on you shifted though still held you close as the jacket fell from his burly frame and your palms swiftly scooped over his broad shoulders and down his chest, now one layer closer to letting you actually get to feel the furnace roiling beneath.

Cupping his face close, whimpers seeped out of you and vibrated against his lips as his fingers dug into your ass and rubbed your barely covered cunt over the palpable tent in his pants, your want surely drenching through your thin underwear and marking him as well. 

You almost didn’t realise that Bucky had moved till he dropped you down on the bed. Taking a step back, his tongue briefly flicked across his breathless lips as his fingers lifted to tug his tie off. 

Staring directly into your soul, he uttered, “take your bra off,” as he tossed the tie to the floor and your fingers scrambled to fulfil his request. When you flung the lingerie to the ground, right next to his crumbled tie, the cool night air kissed your pebbly nipples and Bucky let out a murmured curse right before bending down to press his lips to yours. 

Balanced on your elbows, you parted your lips and let his tongue sweep across your own. His touch coasted down your frame, barely granting your tits any attention before his grasp hooked around your thighs and yanked you closer to the edge of the mattress. A surprised yelp escaped you at first at the sudden shift, but as the sting of saliva, that had lingered and connected you from your sloppy kiss, snapped back against your skin, the short cry morphed into a fizzy giggle. 

The light laugh however faded away when you watched him sink to his knees at the foot of the bed. Your legs curled up even further on either side of you, though you weren’t quite sure if that was you or him pushing them up and cracking you open that much more. You could feel his breath hit your pantie-clad core as his gaze fixated on the soaked spot right over your puff. 

When his palm slid up your inner thigh, he only had to reach out his thumb for the broad pad to ghost over your covered slit. His eyes swiftly flickered up to capture yours, checking your reaction as you began to squirm from his feathery light touch. 

Hooking his finger in the gusset, he pulled it to the side and a glossy string stretched out and clung to the fabric as he revealed your glistening pussy. 

A breathy moan billowed out of you as he began to touch you, rolling your little pearl beneath his touch. Finding your eyes once more, he held your gaze as he then leaned down to press a gentle kiss over your clit. 

“This okay?” his voice vibrated against your bundle of nerves, making you twitch. 

“Mhm,” you nodded foggily, “you can do anything you want.”

“Anything?” his lips twitched into a smirk as his fingers stretched from where they were clutching your panties to brush over your button.

“Yeah,” you breathed, “fucking anything.” 

Your mouth then hung agape at the sight of him dipping down to ruthlessly taste your desire. It didn’t take long before he lost himself in you so fiercely that he momentarily leaned back only to rip your underwear off. Both of his hands curved around your bottom, raking across your skin as he drew you even closer to his tongue and dragged it through your wet folds.

Bumping his nose against your clit, he let himself make out with your cunt a moment longer before planting a farewell peck over your pearl and pulling back. A dollop of spit dropped from his lips down onto your pussy. Catching the drop with his fingers before it slid away, he rubbed it into your own juices and made you that much more of a mess. 

“O-oh,” you moaned as he slowly slid a long finger into you after teasing your weepy entrance enough to make you shiver. 

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he groaned at the soppy sounds his efforts conjured.

Craning down to kiss your clit sloppily, Bucky then slid his ring finger in beside the other, curving them gently as he reached even deeper. 

When he momentarily retracted his digits to land a small tap over your puffy petals, the smile that bloomed on your face only egged him on further. Plugging you back up, he then retracted and repeated the slap though with more ferocity. 

Your head began to lull a bit as he brought his vibranium digits down to roll your clit and his fingers began to fuck you harder, not faster, but with an intent that made your pussy sing for him. 

With your thighs trembling, they nearly slammed shut as you felt the end near, but your bodyguard only slid his strong metal forearm over your legs, hooking it right under both of your bent knees, to keep you spread nice and open for him. 

The veins on the back of his inked hand popped from how fiercely his fingers rocked within you. 

Stretching his thumb up to strum your clit, he tried to sneak a third finger inside of you as he felt your walls begin to flutter around him. 

“That’s it, I’ve got you,” as he always did in every manner, evidently. A smile curved at his lips as your eyes fluttered closed and a symphony of moans flowed out of you with every last tender stroke he offered you to carry you over the edge, “atta girl.”

Melted against the sheets, you caught your breath as he planted one last peck on your inner thigh before standing back up. 

Slowly, with his gaze ever glued on you, he unbuttoned his shirt, gradually revealing the silver shine of the dog tags that hung from his neck and the tattoos that sprawled across his skin. Going all the way up from the hand still shiny with your essence, the ink swirled up his right arm, across his pecs, down his back and even curved over to his left shoulder and intentionally tangled into the gnarly scares sprouting from the border of his prosthetic. 

When the button-up hit the floor, his fingers drifted down to unhurriedly remove his belt, pulling it out of the loops, he let it join the shirt before he undid his pants and let his cock spring free. 

“Jesus christ…” your jaw couldn’t help but drop to the floor as your eyes fluttered at the intimidating reveal. 

Noticing the anxiety that peeked through your lust-ridden expression, his low voice found your ears, “what? Did you change your mind?” 

“No, I just–…” you couldn’t tear your eyes away from his fat cock as it throbbed before you, “I got a bit nervous all of a sudden.” 

“No reason to be nervous, baby,” he breathed out a smile as his fist curled around his girth.  

“Oh really?” you nearly began to laugh. 

“You’ll be fine,” drool threatened to escape the corner of your lips as he slowly began to stroke himself, “trust me.” 

“Really? Because I’m not so sure I’ll be able to take that…” 

“You will,” he uttered calmly as he dipped down to give you a kiss, “don’t worry,” a hand slid into your hair as he cradled your face and ushered your gaze to find his, “you know I’d never hurt you, right?”

“Yeah.”

“So, you’ll be fine,” his thumb curved to sweep over your cheek a few times. 

“Yeah,” you gently nodded and repeated after him, “I’ll be fine.”

“That’s my girl,” he smiled. Kissing you once more, he then pressed a peck to your forehead before his grasp found your hips and he suddenly flipped you around, onto your stomach. 

Helping you up onto your hands and knees, a hazy smile stretched across your features as he bent down over you and pressed kisses all along your spine. Dragging his bulbous tip through your sopping folds, he then teased you for so long, never granting you any more than a dizzying nudge, that whines began to escape from you.

“P-please,” you heard yourself beg as your fingers bunched up the sheets. 

“What?” he continued to flick and tap your swollen clit with the head of his heavy cock.

“I–I want it–, plea–, please fuck me,” you blubbered desperately. 

“Oh, now you want it, huh?” you could hear the smirk that dominated his face, “suddenly not so nervous anymore about me stretching you out, are you?”

“Bucky, plea–, o-oh–,” you felt your limbs tremble beneath you as he slipped the very tip inside. 

His efforts were so slow at first, gradually giving you more of his length and just shallowly fucking you till you blossomed and opened up for him. 

Gradually, his thrusts began to ease from a mind-numbingly slow pace to something that truly scrambled your brain. You soon lost yourself completely to the molten sensation of his fat girth steadily splitting you open. 

Though when he finally bottomed out within you, a shrill gasp slipped out passed your lips and your frame shuttered beneath him. 

Drawing his hips back just enough for you to regain the ability to fill your lungs with oxygen once more, you heard him murmur in your ear, “what, is it too much dick for you?” retraining his thrusts slightly, he kept his tip from kissing your cervix, “that better or is it still too deep for you?” his hands dented your hips.

“N-no, no, it feels so good, it’s just–,” a whimper slipped out of you and broke up your slurring, “you’re so fucking big, I’ve never–,” you felt like you could feel him all the way up in your throat, “no one’s ever been that fucking deep before.”

One of his hands curved down to your clit at the exact same time as your own did. As they met, he let your own fingers swirl over your puffy pearl as his simply lingered, till he suddenly grasped your wrist and gently led it away from your pussy, further up to your lower stomach. 

“That deep?” he pressed down on your palm and let you discover the dull bulge that formed in your belly at every one of his dizzying thrusts, “has no one ever stuffed you that full before? Not even one of your pretty toys you play with so often?”

“Nuh-uh,” you panted as his warm contact dissipated from your spine and he straightened back up. 

A gravelly moan slipped out past Bucky’s lips as he glanced down to see how tightly your creamy pussy was gripping onto his cock. Your fingers returned to the sheets as his wide palm came down to slap your ass, your back arching at the impact and consequently angling his efforts so that the details of his dick brushed against your g-spot in the most heavenly way imaginable. 

He only buried himself inside of you a few more times, his heavy sack tapping against your buzzing clit at every electric buck, till your pussy gushed around his fat girth. 

“There you go,” he pulled out only to insistently flick your puffy pearl with his tip, “fucking hell,” he then plunged his cock all the way back in before dragging it back out, “keep going,” ushering more squirt to drizzle out. He kept up the overwhelming pattern till your pussy stopped gushing for him, till he’d pushed you through the overstimulation and your cunt slowly began to relax again for him. Eventually, when he steadily withdrew from you, he craned his neck to relish in the way your little hole had stretched out and accommodated so well for him, it even winking sinfully at him every time he pulled out, “good fucking girl,” he growled at the sight, “told you so, you’d do just fine,” your shaky frame jolted as he slapped your ass again, “look at you now fucking gaping for me, christ…”

With a ring of your cream staining the base of his cock, he let himself return to your warmth for longer than just a few seconds, fucking you with such ferocity that your pliant form, still molten and unsteady from your second orgasm, collapsed onto the mattress below. 

Though he successfully caught you before you could slip off his cock entirely, he still let you drop down on the bed, though softened the fall for you, before he followed suit. 

The weight of him on top of you felt so comforting and soothed on your tingly skin.

“You okay?” he kissed your cheek before spreading your stocking-clad legs with his own. 

“Hm,” you nodded foggily and felt yourself drool onto the sheets as he squished you further into the mattress.

Your shaky moans filled the bedroom as he slid back inside, “fuck, you feel so good…” sloppily nipping just below your ear before he picked up his pace. 

The chain that dangled from his neck felt cool on your skin and acted as a stark contrast to how hot his body felt pressed against your back. 

“You think you can be a good girl and cum for me again?” he groaned into your ear as his efforts echoed sloppily, “let me feel that pretty pussy squeeze around me one last time?”

“I-I don’t know,” you trembled beneath him, every one of his deep thrusts making you jolt and gasp for air as he was practically splitting you in half. 

“You don’t know?” he sweetly whispered in your ear as he curled his arms under you. One hand slid under your tit and caught your pebbly nipple in a rude pinch while the other soared down to your sore and swollen clit, “can you try for me? Try and cum again,” your eyes had fallen completely shut, so your whole reality had just become Bucky’s reassuring weight, his tantalising efforts, and his sinful whispers that seeped directly into your soul, “try and squirt for me one last time, sweetheart.” 

And so, you did. It didn’t even take that long before you tumbled over one last time and your pussy creamed for him, drenching the already damp sheets beneath you, as he swiftly came as well, throbbing deep within your clenching cunt and filling your little hole up to the brim till it tried to leak and escape around his girth.

His heavy pants faded from your ear as he slowly crawled off of you, cascading a tender trail of kisses all the way down your body till he gently retraced his track of pecks and settled down next to you. Fluttering your eyes open as his palm slid up to your heated cheek, he gazed into your hazy eyes for a moment before leaning in to softly press his lips to your own. 

You wanted to curl in closer to his frame, but your body was so exhausted that you could barely raise your pinkie finger. Fortunately though, as you layed there in wordless wonder, Bucky’s arms draped around you as he scooted in close, hugging you to him and gently caressing your skin as you continued to blink back into his ocean eyes, not uttering a word out of fear that you’d ruin the blissful moment.

After perhaps a small eternity had passed, he briefly raised his head up slightly to catch sight of the small clock on your bedside table. 

“There’s still a few more hours left before the sunrise…” he settled back down beside you.

“Oh, yeah?” a soft smile tilted up your lips as his touch began to travel south. 

“Yeah,” his lips gently parted in a silent moan as his fingers slid through your sore folds. His stare was transfixed on how your brows knitted together and a quiet hiss slipped out of you as he swirled over your sensitivity, playing with the hot load he’d pumped into you as it slowly leaked out, one of his digits too brash not to try and stuff it back inside, “what do you think?” sharing your breath, he inched in and let his nose nuzzle against your own, “do you want me to be yours just a little bit longer or would you rather I’d return to my own bed?” 

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[leascorner]

j.b.b. | Been dreaming about you

Summary: "I had a dream about her..." Steve only frowned even more - how was that a bad thing? "y'know," Bucky added with a tilt of his head, trying to accentuate what he meant. He didn’t want to say it out loud; it was already as embarrassing as it was.

Pairing:  Bucky Barnes x f!reader

Warnings: Angst with a happy ending, miscommunication (or no communication at all), Bucky depreciating himself, mention of war injuries, mention of physical attraction, mention of nudity and sexual act

Word Count: 2.7k

Masterlist

Bucky stopped at the doorstep as Y/N’s laugh made its way to his ears. 

His eyes immediately found her, sat down at the kitchen’s bar, a box of cereal in her hand. She was heartily speaking with Sam, and like any time she was talking about something she was passionate about she was speaking with her hands. Bucky couldn’t make out what they were discussing, something about milk and cereals that seemed to leave Steve, sat with them, totally unbothered.

While he really needed a cup of coffee before Tony’s briefing, he hesitated to go in. He wasn’t really in the mood for small talk - truth was, these days, he wasn’t in the mood to talk at all, especially to Y/N. Eyeing the coffee machine Y/N’s had her back turned to, he decided she was way too into her conversation to even notice him. He could just go in, take his coffee and leave. 

Yeah, it was a solid plan. 

Though it was without counting on Sam calling after him, as soon as he put a foot in the kitchen. Y/N turned to him right away, her face lighting up.

“Hi!” She greeted him, a big smile on her lips that Bucky tried very hard not to look at all.

Bucky only responded by a sharp nod and nearly run to the coffee machine. Her smile faltered slightly at his cold attitude. She watched him get himself a cup of coffee for a second more before she looked back to her own cereal bowl.

Steve frowned to the exchange; he was used to Bucky and Y/N being quite friendly towards each over. Ever since Bucky had been back in the country, Y/N had been part of his rehabilitation protocol. While Tony and Bruce were working on reversing his trigger words, Y/N was working with Bucky as a physical therapist, to try and fix his chronic right shoulder pain. She had been an army physical therapist, serving one tour in Afghanistan, and was specialized on injuries that led to limb amputation.

While the beginning had been complicated - especially due to how unstable Bucky was at the beginning, Y/N had succeeded on getting Bucky to open up to her. The last months, Steve had even found out Bucky was more eager than before going to his PT session. Whenever Y/N was around, Bucky - who normally wouldn’t stay in the common room and much preferred to stay in the quiet of his own room - would linger a little bit longer with them. Despite whatever Bucky would say, Steve just knew his friend had a crush on Y/N (by judging how red his face turned that one time Steve asked him, it was a pretty good crush). 

The blond watched as Bucky left rapidly after he got his coffee. Y/N too had watched him, Steve realized when he turned to her. Her face was wearing a small frown, and her eyes were fixed on the last place Bucky could have been seen.

“You alright?” he asked.

As always, Y/N looked back to him and smiled. She didn’t fool him though. Steve didn’t know what was wrong and clearly, she didn’t know either.

Over the next week or so, Steve found himself with a lot of déjà-vu.

Y/N would enter in a room Bucky was in and he would magically disappear. Bucky would find whatever good excuses not to do his physical therapy session - volunteering for missions he didn’t even have anything to do with in the first place. He even wouldn’t put a foot on the twenty-six floor - where Y/N had her office - if he knew she was most likely to be there - that was to say, basically every hour of every week day (Yes, Y/N had a slight work addiction).

It was clear for Steve now, Bucky was avoiding Y/N for whatever reason. Even Tony had asked if everything was alright between the two and he wasn’t the one to notice a lot of things about his own relationship - let alone other people’s relationship.

That morning, Steve had finally decided he would clear the air and talk to Bucky. He had asked him to join him in the kitchen for a coffee and this was of course at this exact same moment, Y/N had decided to get out of her office for some well-deserved break.

When she entered the room, Bucky looked like a deer caught in the headlights and stayed frozen in his seat, he didn’t have time to flee this time. Though he had been avoiding her, Y/N still seemed to be happy to see him.

“Hi!” she greeted them with a smile on her face. She picked her favorite cup from the cupboard and put the kettle on. She turned to Bucky naturally while she waited for the water to be ready. “How is your arm?”

“Well, actually.” Steve had barely heard Bucky as he mumbled.

“No pain whatsoever?”

“Nope.”

“Cool then!”

Y/N smiled as Bucky turned his attention back to his cup of coffee. She rolled on her feet, probably searching for a topic to continue the discussion - this was the most words they had exchanged in the last two weeks. She seemed to search and search again, but nothing came to her mind.

The sharp sound of the electric kettle stopping seemed to bring her back on earth. She looked at Steve and then back to Bucky, who was looking at everything but her. Again, Steve saw the way her smile faltered from his friend’s attitude and as her heart seemed to drop further in her chest. She was hurt he was pushing her away.

“Let me know if you need anything.” And without yet another glance at Bucky, she left. Totally forgetting about the cup of tea she was making.

Steve watched her go and then turned to Bucky, eyebrows furrowed. "What's going on between you two?"

Bucky looked up, eyebrows raised as if he was surprised Steve even asked about it. He didn’t even try to explain everything was fine and the blond didn’t know if it was because to him, everything was actually right, or because he was even surprised anyone had noticed his attitude.

“Don’t look at me like that. I know you were lying. It still hurts you.”

“’M fine,” Bucky muttered, eyes going back to his cup of coffee.

"Every time she is around lately, you just... disappear."

Bucky swallowed, hard. So it was that obvious. He really thought he was being subtle. He was such a nobody at the compound that making himself even smaller that usually, nobody noticed. Of course not.

"I had a dream about her..." Steve only frowned even more - how was that a bad thing? "y'know," Bucky added with a tilt of his head, trying to accentuate what he meant. He didn’t want to say it out loud; it was already as embarrassing as it was.

Oh! Steve seemed to understand.

"What's wrong about that?"

His friend gave him a knowing look. What was wrong with that? What was wrong with THAT? He had imagined kissing her, touching her, caressing her. He had seen what he imagined she looked like without her clothes on. It had felt real, so -so- real.

It had been a little bit more than two weeks now and he still remembered every little details. No matter how busy he was keeping his self, he still had flashes of it at the most random times of the day. At night, he couldn’t close his eyes without reliving the scene, feeling her hands on his body and so he lived of no sleep and a lot of black coffee. He couldn’t concentrate on anything, it was driving him crazy.

Now, he couldn’t look at her without thinking about this. He tried his best not to be in the same room as her or not speak to her. The simple thought of being near her was overwhelming, let alone to have her touching him during one of his physical therapy sessions.

"Bucky, that's fine. She is one of the nicest person I know. She will tell you if that makes her uncomfortable, you'll talk about it and that will be fine."

Bucky groaned. There was no way he would admit this to her; this was already as embarrassing as it was to discuss this with Steve. He had been used to the other way around. In his past life, he had been the one giving Steve advices on how to act with the ladies, even setting him up on blind dates. Somehow, he felt like he was this thirteen-year-old looking at pinup posters in New York streets again.

"And you never know, she might be interested after all."

"How could she?” Bucky huffed, disgusted with himself. “Have you looked at me recently?"

When Bucky finished his cup and turned to Steve, his body language was indicating he was done with this discussion. Steve looked at him with one of his signature sympathetic glances. To Bucky, it felt more like pity than anything else. Steve was pitying him, old poor brainwashed Bucky, who had been kidnapped and forced to do horrible things. Hydra had made him a living time bomb and he felt it more than ever now.

"Come on Bucky, you know that's not true!"

Too late, Bucky was long gone.

Bucky felt like he was cursed.

He had been trying to avoid Y/N. Just for a little bit longer, just for as long as he couldn’t forget about their dreamed intimate moment. Yet, he continuously found himself in situations where she was too. Like when Tony invited her to their weekly catch-up on how they were planning to remove his trigger words from his head. Like when Sam invited her to the team dinner.

Or like today, when he found himself in the elevator... Alone with Y/N.

They stayed silent for most of the ride. After the last few weeks of she couldn’t get Bucky to talk to her despite her best effort, Y/N seemed to be out of subjects to discuss and preferred looking at her hands. A minute before they arrived on the first floor though, she couldn’t help turn to him and ask the question that was burning her lips for a few days now:

"Did I do something wrong?"

Bucky looked up from his own feet to frown at Y/N, a couple of steps from him. He had purposely left a lot of space between them when she boarded the elevator, but even from where he was, he could still smell her perfume and somehow feel her skin touching his.

He frowned at her, as if he didn’t know what she was talking about. Y/N looked frustrated, even angry at little bit, and she had every right to be. They went from seeing each other twice a week for physical therapy session and sharing a few moments on every occasion they got to nothing at all.

She had replayed the events in her head, trying to find what she could have done wrong, and she just couldn’t make out what had happened.

"Your arm, it's bothering you, I can see," she pointed out. Even if he didn’t want to talk to - and even look at - her, she continued to watch out for him. "Why don’t you just come to me?"

"It's fine," Bucky sharply answered. A little too harshly.

The look of hurt on Y/N’s face made Bucky’s heart break. He knew he was unfair to her, yet he couldn’t admit what was going on. She was a too good person to be around him, a poor fuck-up man and a world known assassin.

Despite everything he was putting her through, Y/N didn't want to admit defeat and after the initial shock of the ton he had used to talk to her, she was ready to speak again.

“Please, just don't,” Bucky spoke more softly this time just at the same time as the elevator doors opened.

“Bucky, I-”

But he was gone before she could say anything more.

Y/N was now avoiding him like the plague.

At first, Bucky had been relieved. Now, his heart only sunk when they shared a look and Y/N was quick to look away. He was longing to see her yet whenever he would go up to her office, she wasn’t there. She didn’t venture to the compound’s kitchen any longer; and he knew it because a small coat of dust had started to cover her favourite cup. He had even tried to ask Steve how she was doing, but the only answer he got was always a “why don’t you ask her yourself?” - after the way he had talked to her, Bucky couldn’t bring himself to do it.

As usual, Bucky would be having his last coffee of the day during his afternoon break, just before he would go meet the team for a strength training session at the compound gym. Steve and his reusable water bottle stomped into the room and huffed finding Bucky here. He continued his way to the water dispenser to fill it. Bucky watched, frowning, as he pushed the button so hard it nearly felt off. His annoyance was irradiating all around him and Bucky didn’t remember to have seen him so… sulking before.

“What’s going on?” Bucky asked his friend’s back.

Steve’s shoulder dropped as he seemed to take a breath in. He turned slowly, a shadow on his face. His water bottle was very close to being overfilled and his hand also very close to crush it.

“Y/N has resigned,” his voice was a bit deeper than usual, “effective immediately.”

“I don’t understand-”

“She is leaving, Bucky.”

The information seemed to get to Bucky’s brain in an instant. He immediately got up, literally throwing the stool he was sat on away. He run to the elevator and when it didn’t come quick enough, he decided he would run up the stairs to the level Y/N’s office was on. He ran up the corridor and nearly took the door of his office off the hinges while opening it.

Y/N was there, putting the last books she had on her shelves in a box. She stopped in her tracks from the surprise of the brutal intrusion and gave him a dirty look.

“I really don’t have time for this.”

Her voice was cold and sharp, and Bucky wondered if that was how he had talked to her. It hurt him so much to see only anger in her eyes and to know that everything they had shared was lost. All because of him.

And that was probably why he spoke without thinking:

“I’m attracted to you.”

Y/N dropped the book she had in her hand. She looked at him - he looked at her – and Bucky didn’t let any time for her to open her mouth to speak. He didn’t want to lose the courage he had gather to open up his shell.

“I’ve been attracted to you for… well, since being back, but I only realized this wasn’t just a crush – Peter told me that word – until very recently.” He breathed shakily. “I didn’t know how to handle. This (he gestured between the two of them) is much more than just physical attraction. I have feelings for you and I shouldn’t be feeling that.”

“Bucky…” Y/N sighed, getting around her desk to approach him.

“You and I know, I can’t be feeling like that,” Bucky repeated while Y/N shook her head. “And I am so sorry. I know this doesn’t change how badly I have acted towards you, but I hope with time that I can earn your trust again.”

“I am pretty sure we had this conversation before,” Y/N told him, putting away a string of his hair. She was now in front of him, so close to what they had never been in the last few months. “You can’t decide what other people can think or feel. I know it’s easier to push people away when things get tough, but we need you to tell us what is going on in this brain of yours. Okay?”

Tears in his eyes, Bucky nodded. Y/N smiled at him sweetly and all of his problem suddenly seemed to have disappeared.

“I understand this can be a very difficult thing to hear, but you are a good person, Bucky. Whatever happened to you doesn’t define you.” She hugged him, so hard, as if they were reunited after a long time away. “And for the record, I also have a crush on you.”

[cherienymphe]

There Will Be Blood

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Reader x Lady Margot Fenring

Summary: Knowing that you are too afraid to ever find yourself alone with the Harkonnen heir, Lady Margot secures his heart's desire for his celebration day.

warnings: Dub-Con (use of the voice), blood, knifeplay, choking, threesome, mentions of cannibalism, non canon ages, spoiler free

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies 

⭑

“She looks almost good enough to eat,” were the words that reached your ears in that low timbre, head tilted as he gazed at you. “I don’t know whether to feed her to my darlings…”

The feeling of his finger underneath your chin was almost nonexistent as he tilted your head up. You were too anxious to look away—his reputation preceding him—and even if you wanted to, you couldn’t. You felt paralyzed, held captive by that dark blue gaze you swore was actually black as night in certain lighting.

“…or make her one of them.”

You swallowed at that, and you didn’t miss the way his eyes followed the subtle movement.

He was referring to his ‘pets’ as you knew he sometimes called them, the three strikingly beautiful Harkonnen women with an appetite for human flesh. The thought of being killed and fed to the women in question made your heart skip a beat…but the thought of being added to his harem made you shudder.

…and you couldn’t tell if the feeling was good or bad.

Hands slid over your shoulders from behind, making you shiver again, and your lashes fluttered at the feeling of soft lips grazing your throat. You faintly tried to remember how and why you ended up here, and you could only recall staring into enticing blue eyes. Her familiar face was all that stood out in your memory, features soft and lips curved into an even softer smile. With all of that being said though, you couldn’t remember your thought process behind following her perfect figure down the hall.

Lady Margot Fenring—golden-haired and willowy with that Bene Gesserit serene repose about her that you found subtly disturbing.

Usually.

In this moment, her calm disposition and quiet authority made your heart race. She was a comforting contrast to the man before you, his intense gaze and sharp features serving to make your imagination run wild with what he was capable of. He was so different from his brother, vastly so from his uncle, but he still possessed similarities with the two that made you nervous all the same.

Especially with his hand so close to your throat.

“This one isn’t for consumption.”

Her lips brushed your skin as her soft and even tone filled your ears.

“Not in the literal sense, at least…” mirth colored her voice at this remark. “I saw you watching her.”

Those words made your heart sink, and you were sure that the brief stab of fear you felt passed through your eyes.

Feyd-Rautha was psychotic. He was the kind of man that would kill someone solely because he felt like it. He had an animalistic stare that made alarm bells go off in your head, telling you to never take your eyes off of him—to always keep him in your line of sight. He was the kind of man you couldn’t let your guard down around.

He was the kind of man you didn’t want watching you.

As if he could read your worrisome thoughts, a glint passed through the man’s eyes, and he leaned in closer. Not one to conceal his feelings in any situation, his expression twisted into one of amusement, a sight that made your hair stand on end. Those soft hands slid over your shoulders and down your arms, gently caressing them.

Don’t be afraid.

A voice that didn’t sound like your own filled your mind, its influence settling into your bones and deep into the crevices of your subconscious. You felt yourself relax, felt the tension leaving you, and her soft hum had you leaning back into her chest. You didn’t want to be afraid, and you felt confident in repeating those words to yourself, confirming that there was nothing to be afraid of.

“You want her,” her fingers grazed your jaw, briefly touching his own. “…but she fears you far too much to ever find yourself alone with her.”

“I like them afraid.”

Those words made you blink, your lips parting at the sincerity in them. By the way he held your gaze, you could tell he wanted you to know he meant it, but that voice in your mind assured you that you had nothing to be afraid of. Not when he leaned in closer, and not when his hand traveled from your chin and down to circle your neck.

“You get too excited,” the blonde woman steadily told him, a hint of authority in her voice. “You would kill her.”

Her fingers on your jaw forced you to turn your head, making you look at her, and when she kissed you, you welcomed it. It was a comforting kiss, one that relaxed you further, and you couldn’t help but to close your eyes and bask in the feel of her lips touching yours. Your skin grew warm, and you touched her arm.

“I’m here to keep you in line.”

She spoke the words into your mouth, but she wasn’t talking to you.

Feyd-Rautha’s lack of protest or anger at her words gave you the impression that you were being included in something that already existed. He let her kiss you, the heat of his gaze burning a hole into the side of your face as she drew you in closer. The feeling in your chest was both light and heavy, and you felt as if you couldn’t get close enough to her.

Lady Margot had an aura about her that you’d always been ensnared by—the way she talked, the way she swayed when she walked, and especially the way those attentive eyes watched everyone and everything so closely. She smelled fresh and crisp, an airy feminine aroma filling your nose as her hand rested on the side of your throat, Feyd-Rautha’s arm long falling back at his side.

When she pulled away, only the tip of her nose lightly touched yours.

“He wants you to touch him.”

Her voice reverberated in your mind, influencing your thoughts and movements, and you found yourself turning to look at the man in question. Your advance was slow, hesitant in reaching out to place your hands on the black fabric of his shirt. He visibly shuddered at the contact, and despite the fact that you were clothed, you felt vulnerable and naked underneath his intense gaze.

“This one is fragile, Feyd-Rautha,” amusement danced around her words. “You have to play gentle if you want to keep her.”

Almost as if he wanted to defy her, his hand quickly wrapped itself around your throat, forcing you closer. Your heart stuttered at the action, and despite that brief bout of adrenaline—your body’s way of telling you that you were in danger—that influential voice in your mind told you that you were safe. Your breathing was shallow as you looked at him with wide eyes.

His own gaze traveled over your form, his perusal slow and his hand tightening. You reached up, grabbing his arm, and the noise of protest he made was a cross between a grunt and a hum. His nose touched yours, and when he spoke again, it sounded like there was gravel in his throat.

“Do you fear me?”

The thought settled in your mind that he wanted you to say yes, and so you did, barely whispering it.

That pleased him, and he presented you with a terrifying smile. His fingers were pressing into the skin of your neck, and his blue gaze studied yours, eyes flickering between your own. There was a carnal excitement there that told you he lusted for more than just your body, and when you winced at the grip he had on your throat, it only grew.

“Good,” he praised in a guttural tone.

Kissing Feyd-Rautha was nothing like kissing Lady Margot.

It wasn’t meant to be a gentle and comforting experience, but instead one that forced you to face every one of your discomforts head on. His teeth pressing into your lips, his hand cutting off your airway, the lack of warning as he pushed you back. Every action was designed to make you squirm, and despite that feeling, heat still settled in the pit of your stomach as his weight pressed down on you.

Lady Margot’s gentle touch made your leg tingle. She was pulling on it, making room for him while her other hand grabbed your arm, and you shuddered at the feel of her lips kissing a path to your wrist. The contrast in their efforts made your head spin, and Feyd-Rautha’s constricting grip on your throat only disappeared when his lips replaced his hand instead.

Pain blossomed beneath where his teeth were, and you gasped, chest arching up into his involuntarily. His hands on your frame were tense, like he wanted to twist and tear you apart, but something disallowed him from doing so. When he kissed you again, the pain in your neck lingered, flaring from spot to spot, and you didn’t doubt that bruises would be there.

When you were forced to sit up, the soft and thin fabric of your dress was pulled at by two sets of hands. A feminine touch loosened the back, her lips following behind where his once were, soothing the irritated skin there. He, on the other hand, was yanking your sleeves down, and the sound of a slight tear or two in the fabric could be heard.

The cold air hit you for half a second before a warm mouth covered a sensitive bud before it even had time to harden. The sharp feeling of his teeth pressing into the skin of your breast made you shy away, but with Lady Margot at your back, you had nowhere to go. Her lips along your neck and shoulder was a welcomed feeling, a soothing contrast against the pain the Harkonnen man was inflicting. It almost faded to the background completely when her hand found its way between your thighs.

Your lips parted, and your lashes fluttered, and you couldn’t help but to lift your hips. Her fingers were soft against your skin, the appendages sliding between your folds and stroking you. One of your hands reached down to rest on hers, riding along with her ministrations while the other reached up to grip the arm of the man intent on breaking skin.

The feel of Lady Margot’s fingers pushing into you and curving against your walls made you circle your hips.  The pain and pleasure were starting to blend together so closely that you couldn’t tell what you liked and didn’t like. His teeth scraping down your torso had your breath hitching, and the Bene Gesserit woman behind you hummed when you clenched around her fingers. It sounded like a noise of approval, and when she spoke, her tone and words confirmed that suspicion.

“She likes that,” she mused, her free hand coming up to run over your chest. “She’s starting to like the pain.”

She was right.

Almost as if that triggered something in him, the blue-eyed man relinquished control completely, fingers digging into the tops of your thighs as he pulled you forward. The action caused you to collapse, your head resting in Lady Margot’s lap as he finished removing your dress, the fabric falling around you in tatters. There was only a brief bout of alarm when he brandished a small blade from his waist.

There was that voice again, settling and taking up residence in your mind, telling you not to be afraid.

Pain flared along your skin in a singular path as the tip of the blade just barely grazed your flesh. It was so sharp that a thin line of blood followed the weapon’s descent, but it was gone as quickly as it came as his tongue slipped past his lips, ingesting your essence and soothing that sting. Your eyes closed, and you welcomed her kiss as she leaned over.

Feyd-Rautha’s own lips kissed you too…just before he sank his teeth into your skin.

You were given bites and nips between the kisses—along your hip and along your thighs and eventually in between your thighs. Your hips lifted, and your back arched, and you unintentionally bit Lady Margot’s lip. She smiled into the kiss, and you knew that she could taste the same blood you felt on your own tongue.

Feyd-Rautha was a mad man between your legs, tongue and teeth playing with you, the blade in his hand pressed against your thigh. The soles of your feet pressed into the bed, wanting to both run away from the pain and run towards it. Every shallow cut made into your skin was soothed by his tongue almost immediately, and you wanted to be embarrassed by how wet their combined ministrations made you.

When you found yourself on your knees, the blade at your throat and his naked chest at your back, you could see the way Lady Margot’s gaze held his. Her face was serene and thoughtful, almost as if she were having a silent conversation with the man at your back. The sharpness of his blade drew blood, and by the way his free hand smeared it along your skin, you knew that it turned him on.

“Gentle,” she reminded him, standing.

He wasn’t so gentle when he pushed his way into you, making you sharply inhale, but the blade remained light against your throat. You tilted your head back, both to relieve the sting and because the feel of his cock sliding into you had you submitting. His own deep grunts were right at your ear, and his bloody hand trailed down your frame to roughly knead into your skin.

The sound of skin slapping against skin made your ears twitch, and when he roughly pushed you down with a hand on your back, your fingers twisted into the sheets of the luxurious bed. Your head was bowed, forehead grazing the fabric as he fucked you, power and aggression driving every thrust. Lady Margot was right, you were afraid of the Baron’s sole heir, positive that you’d never find yourself alone with him before today.

Even if you doubted it, you would have never guessed this is how he’d choose to spend his birthday celebration. While fireworks were exploding and food and drink was being passed around, Feyd-Rautha was spending his time burying his cock in you. His fingers twisted painfully into your hair, making you yelp, and the sound only made him fuck you harder.

“Are you still afraid of me?” he roughly asked you, and when you started to nod, he pushed your face down into the bed.

Understanding what he wanted, you managed to force out a small affirmation.

“Yes,” you choked out.

The low laugh that he let out was menacing, and he was aggressive in pushing you onto your back. His hand was tight when it found a home on your throat, pinning you in place as he snapped his hips into yours. The force was enough to make you wince, and his brutal treatment didn’t go unnoticed, the blonde woman coming up behind the man.

Her gaze found yours, holding it as she whispered something into his ear that yours weren’t privy to. Her beautiful hands came around to slide along his smooth chest, her lips still brushing against his ear. Her lips traveled to his throat as he pulled away from you, pulling out and allowing the other woman to guide him to sit back.

He was uncharacteristically still as he watched her take his place.

“Come.”

Her simple command was impossible to disobey, and you sat up, doing as she said. With a hand on the back of your head, she guided you towards the man, an imposing urge to touch him descending over you. With your hands sliding along his lithe frame, her fingers applied pressure, and your head lowered.

Your lips stretched around him as you tasted his cock, tongue flat and cheeks hollowed. Feminine hands were gliding over your curves, fingers eventually sinking into you again. You closed your eyes at the feel, relaxing and heart calming at the 180 from Feyd-Rautha’s earlier brutality. At the thought of him, you peeled your eyes open, looking up at him from beneath your lashes.

It amazed you, how he could be so dominant and forceful with you but so obedient and almost subdued with her. With one look into his eyes or the feel of her hands against his skin, he became a momentarily tamed wild animal. The feral glint in his eyes couldn’t be done away with, the desire to cause pain coloring his features whenever his gaze connected with yours.

As Lady Margot gently curved her fingers into you, you found yourself craving that feeling again.

Your neck and torso still faintly stung from where his blade had drawn blood, and you got the feeling that your skin was already starting to bruise from where he’d tightly held you. You recalled her earlier words, about her presence serving to keep him in line, and your mind lingered on the aches you felt from what he’d done while she was here. You wondered what would be in store for you should he ever get you completely alone.

You suspected that she was right.

He would get too excited…and probably kill you.

When his lips curved into a small smirk, you knew then that your thoughts were written on your face—along with your fear. His hand on your head made you nervous, and still you slid your mouth up and down the length of him. You could feel yourself dripping down your thighs, Lady Margot’s soft ministrations stroking that fire deep within your stomach. It made you moan around him, and if possible, you swore Feyd-Rautha’s eyes darkened at both the sound and feel.

“She would make a well-behaved pet,” he haughtily said.

The way he stared into your eyes told you that was meant more so for you than her. They both shifted, leaning in and you heard them kiss above your head.

“I knew that you would enjoy her,” the blonde woman confidently said, her even tone unable to hide her satisfaction. “Provided you don’t break her.”

When she pulled away, she pulled away from you too, and with a hand on your chin, she lifted your head. She guided you to kiss him, her own lips resting against your cheek, her soft voice telling you not to be afraid. You wanted to listen, your own mind agreeing, and so you welcomed the pain when blood bloomed along your lips.

Feyd-Rautha enjoyed the taste, roughly grabbing your hands and pinning them behind you at the small of your back. He didn’t tell you to lie down, instead making you, and you winced at the feel of your hands trapped beneath your own body. His lips were stained red when he pulled away, and your mouth parted into an ‘O’ shape when the head of his cock started to stretch you out again.

You were completely powerless—at his mercy—and you cried out at the rough curve of his hips. He looked vicious above you, focused not on chasing his high but on seeing the register of pain on your face instead. That was what brought him pleasure, watching you wince and squirm beneath him and his intense thrusts. If his hand wasn’t on your throat then it was yanking your hair or digging into the soft flesh of your breast.

He seemed to like the sight of marking you up whether it be with his teeth or his hand…or that blade.

He held it against your throat while he fucked you, sometimes sliding the flat part down your chest, blue eyes transfixed by the metal pressing against your skin. Occasionally he’d turn it, the edge grazing you, making a cut just shallow enough and then he’d lean down to taste you. Spots of his own flesh was marred by your blood, and he obviously didn’t care as he smeared it over both of you with every movement.

With your hands free, you clutched onto the sheets, eyes rolling into the back of your head. His hands were painfully tight on your waist, keeping your hips lifted for him as he thrust into you. Lady Margot—silently and appreciatively watching—slid her hands along the bed to grab your hands. Her fingers intertwined with your own, holding them down, and you welcomed the gentle kisses she placed on your wrists and then your cheek before finally your lips.

The man above you made a noise of disapproval, and after some time, she granted him what he wanted, his own rough lips replacing hers. You panted into the kiss, tasting your blood on his lips, and you felt almost delirious. It was a constant cycle of pain and pleasure that had you chasing him when he started to pull away. The laugh he gave at the sight told you his thoughts on the matter, but you didn’t care how much power you were giving him.

His gaze suddenly lifted, and his thrusts didn’t stop as he faced Lady Margot. You felt hypnotized as you watched them, eyes focused on the way Feyd-Rautha stuck out his tongue, elongating it in a way you didn’t think possible. The willowy woman had let you go, taking his own blade and dragging the edge of it down his tongue.

It was then that you realized the man inside of you enjoyed pain almost as much as he liked inflicting it.

You wondered if that was why he was so submissive towards her, why she could order him around and why she was so confident that she could keep him in line. You were unsurprised when they kissed, the brutal man kissing you after a while when they finally parted. You swore that his blood tasted completely different from your own.

A thin layer of sweat coated your skin, and you felt almost completely spent. You were sure that the celebration of his birth was still being had while he chose to celebrate between your legs. His strength and the knowledge of how easily he could snuff you out played a part in the way you clenched around his cock. You could feel that you were close—and so could he.

His hand completely obstructed your breathing, and you could only hold onto his wrist. With every thrust into your cunt, the heat in the pit of your stomach grew. Your heart was racing, and your eyes struggled to remain open, and your toes curled as he stretched you around him. A noise of appreciation reached your ears, and for a moment you wondered if he was going to snap your neck.

He could do it. The strength in his hand told you so and that he would probably barely exert himself doing so. You felt your neck strain underneath his fingers, and your nails drew blood over his skin. You knew he liked that because he kissed you again. Your shallow breaths hit his face, and just as you were on the verge of passing out, you came.

…and his hold loosened.

The rush of air into your lungs coinciding with the release of pressure inside of you made your world momentarily go dark. All you could feel was the snug fit of his cock—and the way your walls fluttered around it—and his teeth against your lip. You could faintly feel softer hands on your face, and a choked moan left your lips his hips continued to connect with yours.

His hand tightened again just as your vision started to return to you, and the smile you were met with was chilling. So turned on by watching you straddle death, the fearsome fighter came too but much more violently. He practically growled above you, the noise so animalistic and inhumane sounding. Your neck almost cracked beneath the force of his hand, and the overstimulation from the feel of his cock made you want to clench your thighs together.

You were struggling to breathe when he stilled, chest burning, and when he roughly let you go—pushing himself away from you—you gasped for air. You turned on your side, sweaty and bloody and feeling like you couldn’t breathe deep enough. A hand smoothed along the side of your face—a feminine hand—and when you looked up, the blue-eyed man was cleaning his blade with a crooked smile, terrifying teeth on display.

“I think I will keep this one.”

[changetyre]

Grid Uncles Ⓢ

SUMMARY: Max brings his first daughter to the grid for the first time and it doesn't go exactly as he imagined. Part of the Verstappen Family Verse

WARNINGS: None? Too much fluff.

A/N: This was requested over to me on Wattpad and it's a series I've expanded on over there which I thought to bring over to tumblr since I love it so much ;)

"But what about this one? You love wearing this one because it looks like Papa right?" Max held up the tiny Red Bull shirt in his hands. 

You laughed watching your daughter giggle laughing at her dad too adamant about wearing her orange McLaren shirt gifted to her by her uncle Wando as she called him still having trouble pronouncing her Ls. 

"What even is this? My own daughter cheering for the rival team?" Max turned to you. 

You shrugged. "You made her a fan, she picked a team, now deal with the consequences." 

"Papa up." Your daughter giggled making grabby hands at her dad too oblivious to how offended he was with her choice of attire. 

Max had been waiting for this day for the longest time, the day he'd finally be able to take his first daughter to work with him. When Lea was born you'd agreed that you would wait until she was at least 2 to take her to a race and since she turned 2 just before the Monaco GP Max thought it was the best race to take her being home. If she got too overwhelmed you'd agreed that you'd walk her back home and have her watch the race from your balcony like you'd done the year before. 

Cherishing every moment Max had with her Lea hadn't yet met the other drivers except for Daniel (Lea's godfather), Lando, and Checo who had been amazing at helping Max navigate the nerves of being a first-time parent. 

But practically from the day Lea was born, Max had put on races for her, despite the fact she couldn't physically watch them yet he put them on and you'd noticed that when Max was away for races Lea would find comfort in watching races stopping her from crying when she was having rough days. 

So Lea was beyond excited even though you were almost sure she hadn't quite grasped this sport's magnitude. Yes, Lea would watch Max on TV putting on his helmet and driving around and shouting Papa whenever he or his car would appear on screen but besides that, she truly had no idea about the other aspects of it, the loud noises and the crowds you were extremely nervous about. 

"Ready to go, love?" Max walked to you holding your daughter in his arms. 

"Ye-" 

"Yes, papa go." Lea interrupted answering the question as if it was meant for her. 

"I'm papa's love Lea." You spoke to your daughter. 

"No mama! My papa." Lea furrowed her brows wrapping her tiny arms around Max's neck possesively. 

Max laughed and your jaw dropped 'offended' at your daughter's attitude. This had been a problem for the last couple of weeks Lea suddenly became incredibly possessive of Max, not liking when you would hug or kiss and she would get jealous and upset when she caught you doing anything of the sort. 

"She's a daddy's girl just like her mom." Max joked. 

"MAX!" you slapped his shoulder gasping loudly. 

"NO MAMA!" Lea shouted at you upset for hurting her papa. "No hit papa." She started sniffling. 

"Lea I'm sorry Papa said something naughty but I shouldn't have hit him." You tried to comfort your daughter. 

"Papa okay?" Lea cupped Max's cheeks in her tiny hands. 

Max faked a pout. "Papa's okay baby," Max reassured his daughter who turned to glare at you with a pout just like her dad's. 

"Okay, big babies why don't we go before I make anyone else upset." You rolled your eyes at the antics. 

____________

"You ready?" Max asked you, looking back at you sitting at the back with Lea through the rearview mirror. 

You sighed. "Ready as I'll ever be." despite it being a short way for your and Lea's protection Max had decided to drive into the track. You unstrapped Lea from her seat and waited for Max to come around and open the door for you. 

As soon as he walked out there were already multiple screams and camera flashes calling for his attention. Max opened the car door and took Lea into his arms extending his other arm to help you out and shut the door behind you. 

Max kept a tight grip on you and Lea as you walked into the paddock, luckily Max had asked for extra security and they were closely around you preventing fans and cameramen from getting close to your family. 

"Papa." Lea got upset at all the camera flashes and screams for her dad's name burying her face into her dad's neck. 

"It's okay baby we're almost there." Max started questioning himself, was it a bad idea to bring Lea into a race already? 

You made it into the paddock fairly quickly and you could see Lea's head perk up. "PAPA Unco WANDO!" Lea screamed in joy recognizing the logo from the McLaren building further ahead. 

"We'll see him later Lea." Max laughed cheering up at his daughter's joy. 

She was about to get upset again as you walked into the Redbull motorhome but lucky for you someone came to save the day before Lea could start throwing a tantrum. 

"Oh my god!" Even if he wasn't right around the corner that loud laughter could be heard from a mile away. "Is that my favorite goddaughter?" Daniel asked loudly getting Lea's attention. 

"DANNNYYY!" Lea screamed squirming in her dad's arms as she tugged to get down. 

Max winced at the sharp scream in his ear before placing her down and letting her wobble the rest of the way to her godfather. 

"She's your only goddaughter Daniel." Max reminded his best friend. 

"That's why she's my favorite." Dani's smile looked wider than usual as Lea wrapped her arms around his neck tightly. 

"Yeah well, you're not her favorite." Max was still offended by her choice of attire. 

"Uh, Lea what's this?" Daniel took in her attire. 

"Unco Wando." She clapped excitedly. 

Daniel turned to look at you both disappointed. "You guys obviously didn't meet her expectations she had to be a fan of someone else." You joked. 

"AHHHH PAPA CAR!" Lea screamed excitedly once more as she noticed the 2 cars sitting in the garage. 

"Hello, princess." Checo walked over after hearing Lea's loud personality. 

"Unco Cheto!" Lea smiled high-fiving Checo who held his hand up high for her, he then greeted you and Max. 

"Has she had the tour yet?" Checo asked. 

"Not quite yet, just got her but am planning to do so now." Max smiled excitedly. 

"Lea why don't we go explore?" You asked your daughter still in Dani's arms looking around at everything, her mind must have been working overtime trying to make sense of all the screens, people, and noises. 

She nodded extending her arms and letting herself fall forward into your arms. "We'll see you guys later." You waved goodbye to Dani and Checo for now as you stepped into pitlane to walk along the garages which were still closed for fans and there were only a few cameramen around. 

You started walking down and Charles was the first to spot you. "Oh hello!" Charles walked over greeting Max before greeting you with a kiss on each cheek and finally pinching Lea's cheeks who suddenly got all shy and flustered, her face growing red. 

"Lea say hi." you laughed at her shy personality coming out which was rare in her. 

"hi." She giggled before burying herself in your neck. I guess she wasn't immune to Charles Leclerc's charm either. 

"Lea this is Charles." Max tried to get his daughter to interact. 

"I'm Wea." She finally pried herself away from your body but still avoided Charles's eyes. 

"Wow, what a beautiful name." Charles complimented her which caused her to go into another fit of giggles, you thought it was hilarious but you could see Max didn't find it quite as amusing. Before he could say anything Carlos had appeared. 

"Is this Lea?" Carlos asked excitedly. 

"Yes, it is." You smiled proudly. 

"Wow, hi darling I'm Carlos." He extended his hand.

"Hello." She extended her tiny hand letting him shake it. 

Carlos wasn't able to say much else before her absolute favorite person appeared a few seconds later. 

Everyone was startled covering their ears as Lea let out yet another even louder screech at watching Lando come out of his garage. "UNCO WANDOOOOO" She squirmed in your arms. 

You couldn't let go of her here because of all the cables and machinery around but as soon as Lando heard her yells he didn't hesitate to run over. 

"Wow, that explains the shirt." Carlos laughed. 

As soon as Lando was closer you finally put Lea down who ran with all her might up to her uncle. "My baby." Lando scooped Lea up into his arms. 

"Unco wando," Lea said in the most love-filled tone hugging Lando before laying her head down over his shoulder making everyone aww at the action. 

"I missed you so much." He whispered to her as he walked closer to the group that had formed. 

"wook!" Lea showed him her shirt proudly. 

"Wow, who got you that?" He gasped surprised. 

"You." She laughed at her uncle's antics. 

"Lea, do you want one like this?" Charles asked her pointing at his own shirt. 

"Lea's face went red again this time she hid in Lando's neck. She still nodded fiddling with her shirt nervously. 

"What's this about?" Lando asked unamused too. 

"I think someone has a little crush on Charles." You laughed. 

"No one's allowed to give Lea their team shirt, she won't even wear mine." Max crossed his arms annoyed. "And you stay away from my daughter." Max pointed at Charles who put his hands up in surrender laughing as he walked back into his garage with Carlos.

Lea wouldn't leave Lando's arms now so you continued touring the garage with him, Lea met a few more drivers who all were happy to meet her, Lea especially liked meeting George and Alex but not for them but for their girlfriends who happily played with Lea. Alex and George knew they were in trouble as now their girlfriend's baby fever was high. 

"You have a beautiful family." Daniel patted Max on the back as they watched you placing Lea inside Max's car. 

Max nodded proudly, looking at his wife and daughter with so much love. "Might get a little bigger in a few months." Max broke the news. 

Daniel's head snapped over to his best friend.  "No way," Daniel whispered excitedly. 

Max's eyes beamed proudly just about making out the bump you hid with your puffy dress, watching as you subconsciously placed a hand on your stomach as you leaned down to your daughter's eye level. "Lea's gonna be a big sister," Max confirmed. 

"Congratulations man, you both are amazing parents." Daniel hugged his friend tightly. 

Once Max turned his attention back to you he saw your gaze was meeting his again. You blinked 3 times shutting your eyes a little tighter, a little sign you and Max had made years ago, a way to say I love you when he couldn't hear you over all the noise. Max repeated the action to you, but mouthing those three words to you anyway. 

Everyone might have thought winning a championship was the best feeling in the world for a man so dedicated to motorsports but being able to watch his daughter grow up with the love of his life...he'd give up his entire career just to see that every day. 

[leaentries]

WORLD OF FIRSTS - MATT REMPE

SYNOPSIS: matt wants his girls first time to be perfect

WARNINGS: swearing, sexual content, fingering, p in v, unprotected sex (pulling out), taking virginity, incredibly sappy matt, he’s just a big ball of love, not proofread

WORDCOUNT: 2.96k+

You took a deep breath, staring at your reflection in the mirror. Eyes alighted with fresh mascara and cheeks adorned with blush; you were ready for the night. You knew what was coming, yet the nerves still boiled inside your belly. Matt was nothing but courteous toward you, never pressuring you into anything. He promised he wouldn’t ask until you brought it up.

What is “it” one may ask? Sex.

You had never planned to end up a twenty-old-virgin, yet here you are.

It’s not for the lack of opportunities, not in the slightest. Sure, you’ve had the offers of hookups or one night stands with random men from the bar, but that just wasn’t your style. You weren’t holding out for marriage, per se, but you did prefer to wait until you felt it was the right time. In all honestly, it started to feel like that day would never come. At least, until you met Matt.

You had met Matt after securing a position on the Ranger’s media team, inevitably catching the eye of the 6’8 hockey player. His once confident demeanor was dwindled down to a blubbering mess the second you talked to him. Poor boy, don’t judge his size and skill on the ice, he was still just a kid who was head over heels for a girl.

Once he finally mustered up the courage to ask you out, it only progressed from there. You could hardly keep your hands off each other, taking to exploring other aspects of one another’s bodies. The first time things got a little too heated, you managed to break away and explain things to Matt. He clung to your every word, noticing the way you anxiously fiddled with your fingers.

Being the respectful guy that he is, he nodded understandingly, reassuring you that it was okay. He even pinky promised you that whenever you decided to go all the way, he would make it the most romantic experience you could dream of. And, he definitely tried his best.

You walked into his apartment on that clear Thursday night, only to be met with candles, all of your favorite scent, lit around almost every room in the place. Your eyes widened at the effort he clearly put in for tonight, not truly expecting it.

You turned to face your boyfriend, who stood biting his lip nervously, “Matty..” You cooed.

He walked up to you, wrapping his arms around your waist, “I promised you I’d make it special.” He quirked his head to side amusingly, “You know I can’t break a pinky promise.”

You smiled up at him, finally being able to take in his attire. His soft grey hoodie hung loosely over the black sweatpants that adorned his muscular legs. Matt’s hair was tousled, clear evidence of his hands carding through the brunette locks in his worried state. You could practically feel your heat melting with the warm drips of love that filled every fiber of your being.

His eyes raked down your body, adam’s apple bobbing roughly as his gaze lingered on your breasts a tad longer than considered polite. The rise and fall of your chest began to increase as his hands trailed under your shirt. Matt’s thumbs rubbed soothing circles against your bare sides.

“We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to, baby.”

His reassurance brought an extra blanket of comfort, but also even more solidity that he was the right one.

You shook your head lightly, “No, I want to. I want to do this with you.” You tilted your head up more, now fully looking him in the eyes, “I trust you, Matty.”

He leaned down, taking your lips into a soft kiss. Although it was gentle and sweet, it conveyed how much care Matt had for you. All of the unspeakable things and unsaid words were passed through this simple kiss.

Your hands moved to grip his biceps as his tongue slipped delicately into your mouth. His hands pulled your hips closer to his, a small gasp leaving your mouth as his hardening bulge pressed into your soft tummy. He took the opportunity to lick at your teeth, a low groan leaving his chest. Matt finally pulled away, eliciting a whine of protest on your end.

He chuckled lovingly, “Don’t worry, baby. Just wanna take you to the bedroom first.”

You nodded, swallowing nervously. Matt intertwined your hand with his, leading you through the apartment to the main bedroom. Upon entering, you felt your breath hitch in your throat. There were more candles, except this time they were accompanied by slightly crumpled rose petals that had been haphazardly thrown about the bed and hardwood around it.

It rendered you speechless.

Matt’s eyes scanned your face, still not fully convinced everything was good enough for you, “I’m sorry.”

Your eyes darted towards him.

“I-it’s not how I envisioned everything, the roses weren’t in season apparently, and the vanilla candles were all I could find at the store to match. I should have tried harder or-”

You cut him off, “It’s perfect.” You reached for his fingers, pulling his body into yours, “It couldn’t be more perfect.”

A conflicted sigh left his mouth, his bottom lip swollen from the anxious biting. You lifted your arm up to cradle his face, “I promise,” You forced him to lock pinkies with your other hand, “I pinky promise.” You reiterated.

His eyes searched yours for any discomfort or hesitation. You gently pulled his face down into a confirming kiss. You let your hand fall from his face, fingers cascading down the tense muscles of his chest and abdomen. You tugged on the bottom of his hoodie, signaling that you wanted it off.

Matt smirked as he pulled away, “I figured I’d be the one undressing you first.”

You smiled, kicking his foot lightly in retaliation, “Well, since somebody won’t take charge, clearly I’m gonna have to.”

With this, something darkened in Matt’s eyes, his smirk only growing. He quickly discarded the unwanted material, revealing his toned torso. You immediately reached out to run your fingers through the dips and divots of his stomach. His skin was warm against your fingertips, the muscle smooth under your touch. He watched your hands move, stomach tensing as you brushed over sensitive areas.

He grabbed your hand softly, just as you reached the waistband of his sweats. He brought your hand to his lips, placing a kiss on each fingertip, “So” on your thumb, “eager,” on your index finger, then following with the last three, leaving a lingering kiss on your pinky. Your breath picked up as he trailed his kisses down your palm, sucking gently on the pulse point in your wrist.

“Matt,” You sighed, the pressure building between your thighs becoming overbearing. The room’s temperature seemed to rise with each kiss he laid upon your skin, igniting tiny fires in every vein. You could practically feel the desire pounding in your ears.

Matt leaned down further as he stuck his nose into your neck and jaw, burying his face there for a moment. You brought a hand up, tangling it in the hair at the nape of his neck. The locks were soft between your fingers and you tugged lightly. His mouth started to suck teasing kisses and red blotches into the supple skin causing you to deliver a harder tug on his hair. Matt let out a loud groan, and with panic, you let go.

“I’m sorry, Matty,” You brought his head up, “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

He just laughed, “Hurt me? Baby, you couldn’t hurt me if you tried.” He took your hand, placing it back in its previous position, “And, for the record, I was into it.”

Your cheeks burned at his confession, but you believed him, especially with the evidence straining against the material of his pants. Matt resumed his attack on your neck, only this time he worked his way down until he was met with the collar of your shirt.

His hands hesitated for a moment at hem, his eyes looked to yours before moving forward. You nodded, giving him the consent. He gently pulled the shirt over your head, tossing it somewhere on the floor. His eyes immediately drifted to your breasts, his tongue darting out to wet his lips.

"Go lay on the bed," Matt rasped.

Not wasting time, you quickly crawled on the bed, leaning against the soft pillows. Matt kneeled down on the mattress, body coming to slot in between your legs. His calloused hands rested on your thighs, running seductive patterns into the plushy skin.

"So pretty like this," He panted through his need, "All laid out just f'me."

You whined, hips bucking with a mind of their own. The deep carnal desire was becoming too much, the new ache of want echoed through your bones. You shook with anticipation.

"Please, Matty," You begged, "Need you so bad."

"Use your words, pretty girl," He encouraged, "Tell me what you want."

You huffed with embarrassment, not yet used to having to voice your needs. Matt watched you closely, enjoying the flustered look on your face.

"I need you," You managed.

He tsked, "Gotta tell me exactly what you need, baby. Wanna give you what you want."

You swallowed the whine that bubbled in your throat, barely managing out your words, “Need you to touch me.” You grabbed his hand and placed it between your legs, “Need you to touch me here.”

“Fuck,” Matt mumbled under his breath. The feeling of your wet cunt through the fabric of your leggings was enough to have his cock weeping. He leaned down to kiss up your stomach, making sure to give the tops of your breasts attention. By the time he reached your lips, you practically inhaled him. You were desperate for him, and your body’s response betrayed any attempt to cover it up.

Matt’s hand snaked behind your back, fumbling with your bra clasp, his brows furrowed as he tried to focus on kissing you and unhooking it at the same time. Not breaking the kiss, you sit up slightly, reaching behind you to help him out. The second the hook popped off, Matt eagerly discarded the item. His breath stopped as he took in your breasts. Even though this wasn’t the first time he’d seen them, they never failed to make his stomach swirl and his cock throb.

His head dipped down to take a nipple into his mouth, tongue circling the peaked bud. Your head fell back against the pillow as you arched your back, pushing your tits further into his mouth. A load moan escaped your throat as he bit down gently.

“Fuck,” You panted, “Matty, need more.”

He smirked against you, fingers treading down to hook themselves on the waistband of your leggings. He sat up on his knees, before looking to you for permission. You nodded eagerly, the fiery desperation for him greater than anything you had ever felt. He slowly pulled them down, tapping your thigh lightly in order for you to lift your hips. Matt helped thread your ankles through, tossing the material with the rest of your discarded clothes.

Your legs instinctively fell apart, putting your glistening cunt on display for him. Matt could have sworn he’d cum in his pants right then and there. He sat for a moment, taking in your body. He took note of every curve, mark, and scar that littered your skin. He wanted to remember them forever.

Becoming impatient, you tugged at his drawstrings, “Don’t just stare. Want you inside of me.”

His body immediately fell to trap yours, his lips so close you could feel them as he spoke, “Can’t say things like that, baby. Or else this gonna be over far sooner than we’d like.”

He pressed one more searing kiss to your lips before dropping a hand between your bodies.

“Gotta stretch you out, okay?”

You nodded, wanting nothing more than for him to touch you where you needed him most.

His hand brushed against your clit, making you jolt with pleasure. Matt prodded at your entrance with his middle finger, before slowly slipping the digit into your slick walls. He quickly found a steady rhythm, your arousal seeping onto the bed sheets.

You bucked your hips as the pleasure coursed through your body. Matt took this as a sign to add another finger. He continued to work you up, gently adding a third. As soon as he sped up his fingers, you ground yourself down against the heel of his palm, the stimulation almost sending you over the edge.

"Matty," You cooed, "M' gonna cum."

And just as you began to ride to that peak, Matt removed his fingers. You almost let out a whine of protest, but the sight of him sucking your essence off his fingers had your soaked pussy clenching around nothing. Matt lifted himself above you once more, holding up his weight.

"You ready, pretty girl?" He asked, "We can always stop and watch a movie if you'd rather do that. I won't care, I promise."

You looked him dead in the eyes, "Matthew, I mean this in the most loving way, but please just shut up and fuck me."

He laughed as he took your lips into a hot fight of tongues and teeth, he mumbled against your lips, "I love you, woman." With that, he sat up and quickly threw off his sweats and boxers in one go. His cock slapped proudly against his abdomen, drops of pre-cum already seeping from his swollen tip.

He aligned himself, before slowly starting to inch his way in. Matt watched your face intensely, watching for any signs of you wanting to stop. You let out a gasp, the initial pain catching you off guard.

Matt leaned down to plant kisses all over your face as he eased himself in further, "I know, I know, baby. You're doing so good f'me." He hushed out, "Taking my cock so well."

You both let out moans as he sunk in the final couple of inches. You panted, overwhelmed by the way he split you open.

"You doin' okay?" He managed through gritted teeth. The tight grip your cunt had around his cock was almost too much for him to deal with.

You nodded, the dull pain finally fading away into need, "You can move."

He swallowed harshly, before pulling out gently and sheathing himself back in fully. Matt did this a few more times, or at least until he had a reign on his hormones. The feeling of being buried inside of you had his mind in a frenzy, wanting nothing more than to fuck you until you couldn't remember your own name. But he knew there would be time for that later, right now was all about you.

Matt reached up to intertwine your hands, his thrusts slowly getting faster and harder. You moaned loudly as the tip of his cock nestled so deliciously against your g-spot. Waves of pleasure surged through every sense you had, until all you could focus on was him. He intoxicated everything. There was only him.

Low groans left Matt’s mouth, his heavy breathing picking up as he tilted his hips in order to reach deeper into you. Your jaw fell slack, your grip on his hand tightening with the intense pressure in your lower belly. It spread from the tips of toes all the way to the tops of your ears, consuming you completely until the only thing still holding you to earth was Matt. His groans turned into breathy whines as he neared his peak, but he was determined to have you finish first.

Matt snaked a hand down your body, to rub sloppy circles on your clit. The added stimulation had your eyes rolling back and a loud cry leaving your mouth.

“Come on, pretty girl. That’s it, cum all over my cock.”

The sounds of his hips slapping against yours, paired with his encouragement finally broke the knot that had been tightening in your gut. Your moan fell silent as the force of your orgasm hit you like a truck. Blinding white pleasure danced through your body, your pussy spasming rapidly around Matt’s cock. Just your facial expressions alone were enough to send him toppling over that edge as well, his cock twitching as he quickly pulled out. He stroked his cock until ropes of white painted your stomach and chest, the warm liquid dripping down your tits.

Matt’s chest heaved as he fell beside you, rubbing soothing patterns into your hair. He whispers sweet nothings to you as you slowly came back to reality. You tilted your head to look up at him, smiling softly.

He placed a sweet kiss on your head, “There’s those beautiful eyes,” Matt cradled your face with one of his large hands, “You feeling okay? I wasn’t too rough was I?”

You shook your head, “No, everything was perfect. You were perfect, Matty.”

He smiled lovingly at you, eyes looking at you as if you’d hung the moon. He placed another kiss on your temple, before getting up and grabbing a towel to clean you off. Once his spent had been wiped off of you completely, you grabbed his wrist, tugging him back down to lay with you.

“Baby,” He laughed, “We gotta get you in the shower so I can clean you off.”

You groaned in displeasure, “In a minute, just wanna cuddle with you first. Want you to hold me.”

He fell into place behind you, pulling your body snugly against his, “If I ever say no to holding you, you have my full permission to kill me on the spot.”

You just grinned, burying yourself further into his warm body.

[meazalykov]

so so kind

lea schuller (platonic) x lena oberdorf (romantic) x reader

summary: your jealousy blinded you from the support you had all along

warnings: jealousy, injury

the weight of the match against wolfsburg hangs heavy on your shoulders as you step onto the pitch, the red and green spreaded across the crowd gives you motivation. 

normally, the energy from the german stands fuels you, pushes you to play harder, faster. 

but today, the noise fades into a distant hum, overshadowed by the anxiety gnawing at the edges of your mind. 

you’ve played for bayern munich frauen for a while now. it's been four years since you left arsenal as an eighteen year old, hoping to find something new outside of your childhood club. 

every time you wore a bayern kit, you felt right at home. 

but today feels different—unsettling.

lena, your girlfriend, isn’t on the field with you. her mcl and acl injuries wil her on the sidelines for nearly the entire season, and the absence of her steady presence beside you has left a void. 

ever since she transferred from wolfsburg to be closer to you, her girlfriend of three years, you were excited to have her as a teammate. a little too excited. 

when she got injured during the national break before the olympics, your heart broke for her. she is the last person to deserve that robbery.

but still, it’s more than just missing her support; it’s the knowledge that she’s out there somewhere, watching, unable to join you, unable to share the intensity of the game and having to watch instead. 

lena likes watching games, but she hates watching when she knows that she should be out there. you feel the same for her. 

as you take your position in midfield, your eyes involuntarily search for lena on the bench. she’s sitting there, her leg propped up, her gaze fixed on the pitch with a look of hope. hoping that bayern will win– you don’t think that you’ll get used to that look, considering that lena was your rival for years. 

your heart aches seeing her like this, sidelined when you know how badly she wants to be out there. 

but before you can dwell on it, you catch sight of lea standing nearby, sitting beside your taller girlfriend and laughing at something lena said. 

lea didn’t start this match, so she sat comfortably on the bench planning to watch the first half before being subbed on in the second. 

lea’s always there, isn’t she? always so close to lena, so touchy and affectionate in a way that feels foreign to you. 

it’s not that you don’t trust lena—you do, more than anything. but the friendship between lena and lea has always made you uncomfortable, even though you know it’s irrational and stupid of you to feel.

a few weeks ago, it was a casual evening at giulia’s after a long day of training. everyone was relaxed, laughing, and enjoying the moment.

 but as you stood by the kitchen, pouring yourself a drink as sydney begged for you to try a pastry that she made, you couldn’t help but notice lena and lea across the room. they were sitting close together on the couch, lena’s arm draped casually over lea’s shoulders as they talked, their heads bent close in conversation. 

they were smiling, laughing at some private joke, completely at ease in each other’s company. lea smiled brightly as lena suddenly bursted out in laughter at something. 

the sight of them like that, so comfortable and familiar with each other, sent a very sharp ache through your chest. you felt a knot form in your stomach, a mix of jealousy and insecurity tightening around your heart. suddeny, sydney’s pastry wasn’t important or on your mind. 

you knew it was irrational—lea was lena’s best friend, nothing more—but that didn’t stop the doubts from creeping in, from making you question your place in lena’s life.

you tried to shake it off, and tried to focus on sydney again, but the image of them together wouldn’t leave your mind. it felt like a dark cloud had settled over you, dulling the joy of the sunny evening. 

you forced a smile when sydney turned around from the oven and handed you the brownie in a pink napkin, pretending everything was fine, but you could feel your mood slipping, the heaviness settling in your chest as you chewed on the chocolate dessert.

too busy staring at your girlfriend and her best friend, you didn’t notice some of your closest teammates, georgia and sam, coming to sit next to you on the kitchen island. 

georgia and sam had always been perceptive when it came to your feelings. they followed your gaze to lena and lea, then looked back at you, their eyes softening with understanding.

“y/n,” sam said quietly, her voice low enough that only you could hear, “you okay?”

you nodded quickly, not trusting your voice to stay steady. 

“yeah, i’m fine,” you replied, but even you could hear the unconvincing tone in your voice. 

“come on, we can see something’s bothering you. what’s up?” georgia raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. she gently nudged your shoulder. 

you sighed, knowing there was no point in trying to hide it from them. 

“it’s just–” you couldn’t say, but instead nodded toward lena and lea. 

sam expressed an “ohh” facial expression, while georgia nodded her head. 

“i know they’re just friends, but sometimes i can’t help but feel… i don’t know– jealous? i don’t know.” 

georgia and sam followed your gaze again, watching lena and lea for a moment before turning back to you. 

“i get it,” sam kerr said softly. “but you have nothing to worry about. lena’s crazy about you, everyone who knows her can see that. and lea? she’s known lena since they played at essen. they’re close, sure, but they don’t have feelings for eachother– if i knew or suspected that i would tell you. you’re the one lena’s in love with.”

sam’s words were comforting, but the ache in your chest didn’t fully ease. “i know that,” you whispered, more to yourself than to georgia and sam. 

“it’s just hard sometimes, seeing them so affectionate like that.”

“trust me, y/n. lena’s yours, and she wouldn’t trade what you two have for anything. see– she's looking at you right now.” georgia says. 

you look over at lena and she smiles at you, waving and happy seeing you in conversation with georgia and sam– she doesn’t know what you’re talking about though. all you do is give a light smile before lena turned away to talk to tuva, who sits by lea and lena. 

“thanks, georgia and sam. you guys don’t understand how much i needed to hear that” you nodded, giving a light smile at them as you swallowed the lump in your throat. 

“anytime,” sam replied with a smile, then nudged you playfully. 

“i would suggest talking to them about it.” georgia adds on. 

“i can’t– lena’s gonna think i am a jealous insecure freak and will leave me. i can push it down, don’t worry.” you ramble. 

“don’t. that's how resentment starts. don’t be mad at me, but i think that is happening now.” georgia said with concern. 

at this point, sam gave a sympathetic smile before walking away– being called by klara in another room to check out something. 

“you think so?” you ask. 

“yes, you need to talk to them as soon as you can. now come on, let’s get back to the fun. no more people watching.”

you managed a small smile, letting her words sink in as you tried to push the insecurities aside. it worked, temporarily. 

back to the pitch– the whistle blows, signaling the start of the match, and you push everything else aside, focusing on the game. you will not let their moment affect yours here. if your mistakes from that cost you a loss for bayern, you’d risk your starting spot next game. 

for a while, you’re lost in the rhythm of the game, your focus sharp, your movements precise. you channel all your energy into the match, letting the intensity of the game distract you from everything else. the ball at your feet, the opposition pressing, the cheers from the bayern crowd—it’s all that matters in this moment.

you dribble around a few defenders in green before shooting the ball. you put your hands up when the ball reaches the back of the net– goal!

everyone gathered around you for a hug. you smiles in joy before jogging back to your spot. 

lena smiles at you and puts her hands up in her heart. you stop jogging, now walking, and put your hands up into a heart as well. a camera captures you putting up an “L” with one hand and your other hand making an “O”.. fans will obsess over this later. 

after halftime, you’re on the pitch when lea comes on. you didn’t show any emotion, hoping that lea makes an impact like she usually does on the pitch. you’ll give her that– she is a damn good striker. 

after wolfsburg conceded a corner kick, you stood by the back post. 

the ball is kicked by giulia and you unplant your feet– thinking of going for a header. 

the ball soaring through the air toward you. you leap up, determined to make the play, but lynn from wolfsburg shoves you mid-air.

it’s a hard, intentional shove, and you’re caught off balance. 

time seems to slow as you lose control, your body twisting awkwardly in the air. you crash into the goalpost with a sickening thud, pain exploding in your head, the metal reverberating as you flop onto the ground. 

the world goes blurry, and the sounds around you fade into a muffled haze. you’re vaguely aware of hitting the ground, of voices shouting around you, but everything is distant, as if you’re underwater or in a cave far from society.

nobody noticed at first, since the ball was kicked into the goal by lea. she didn’t care to celebrate when she noticed your injury. 

you were barely moving, which freaked her out internally. 

a voice cuts through the fog in your head—lea’s voice. she’s there, crouched beside you, her hands on your shoulder, her face pale– just like yours– but with worry. 

“stay with me, y/n. stay awake,” she’s saying in german, her voice shaking slightly. 

you try to focus on her, but it’s hard, everything spinning and out of focus. you catch a glimpse of her wide, panicked eyes, her grip on your hand tight, almost desperate, as if she can keep you tethered to consciousness by sheer will.

the weak hand of yours touches lea, signaling that you have no energy to talk. that knock fron lynn took all of the wind out of you. it was rough, the yellow from the referee proved that. 

you’re dimly aware of the medics rushing over, of being lifted onto a stretcher, but all you can think about is how lea is holding your hand, refusing to let go until she’s forced to step back. her concern, her fear, is palpable, and it cuts through the haze of pain and confusion. 

it’s a stark contrast to the distance you’ve been trying to maintain, a reminder that maybe, just maybe, you’ve misjudged her and her intentions with your girlfriend all along.

later, when the dizziness has faded and you’re back in the locker room with an ice pack on your head, guilt gnaws at your gut. 

lea didn’t have to help you—she could have stayed on the sidelines since you wanted distance from her, but she didn’t. she was there for you, just like she’s always there for lena. and that’s when it hits you: lea has never hated you. she wasn’t trying to steal lena away from you. you’ve been so blinded by your own insecurity that you couldn’t see it. you’ve let your fears create a wedge between you and lea, and it’s been unfair to both her and lena.

you know what you have to do. so, after the match, you ask lea to your house. she would probably be there anyways, since it you and lena’s shared home in the bavarian countryside.  

luckily, lena had a doctor’s appointment at bayern– so she had to stay behind and encouraged you to go home since you’re tired from the match. 

it’s awkward at first with lea, the two of you sitting across from each other in the cozy living room, the tension thick in the air. 

you internally freak out when you realize that you’ve never had a real conversation with her before, not like this. now, the words feel heavy on your tongue. 

you take a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. the silence in the room feels heavy, almost suffocating. you’re sitting across from lea, her eyes steady and patient, waiting for you to speak. 

this conversation is long overdue, but it’s hard to find the right words. finally, you break the silence.

“lea, i– i need to be honest with you about something,” you begin, your voice wavering slightly. 

“i’ve been carrying these thoughts around for a while, and i think it’s time i finally tell you– or rather ask you.”

lea’s expression is gentle, her gaze encouraging. “you can tell, or ask me anything, y/n.”

“do you like lena?” you ask, your eyebrow knitted together as lea’s face fills with confusion. 

“as my best friend, yes, anything more– i don’t.” lea answers, not trying to show that she is nervous about the upcoming conversation. 

“it’s about… about how i’ve been feeling lately. about you and lena. i know it sounds silly, and i’m trying to work through it, but—”   you pause, struggling to find the right words. 

“seeing you two together, so close, affectionate and so comfortable, it stirs up this weird knot inside me. i keep thinking, what if one day, lena decides she doesn’t need me anymore? what if she doesn’t love me anymore? what if she… decides she’d rather be with you?”

lea’s eyes widen slightly, and she opens her mouth to speak, but you hold up a hand to stop her. you need to get this out, to lay everything bare.

“i know it’s irrational,” you continue, your voice cracking. “i know you’re her best friend and that there’s nothing more between you two. but every time i see you two together, laughing and being so affectionate, it feels like a reminder that i might not be enough. it’s like there’s this part of me that’s afraid lena might see something in you that she doesn’t see in me. and that thought… it terrifies me. i don’t want to be fooled, if there are feelings between the both of you– just tell me and i’ll get out of the way.”

you look down at your hands, unable to meet lea’s gaze. the vulnerability of your confession makes you feel exposed, raw.

“i’ve been pushing you away because of these feelings, and i know it’s not fair to you. i thought that if i kept my distance, i wouldn’t have to deal with these insecurities. but the truth is, i’ve let it affect my relationship with lena, and with you– and it’s not right.”

lea’s silence stretches on for a moment, and you’re not sure what she’s thinking. when she finally speaks, her voice is soft but firm. 

“y/n, i had no idea you felt this way. i’m really sorry if i’ve contributed to those feelings. but i want you to know that lena and i have known each other for years, and yes, we’re close, but that’s all it is—a close friendship. our friendship doesn’t change the fact that lena loves you. she’s never looked at me in that way, and she’s never given me any indication that she wants anything more than what we have as friends.”

you glance up, meeting her gaze. there’s sincerity in her eyes, and it’s a comfort. “but you’re right,” lea continues. 

“i’ve seen how much lena loves you. it’s obvious to everyone around us. i care about lena deeply, and because of that, i care about you too. i’ve always wanted us to get along, but i didn’t know how to close the distance between us.”

“i’ve been so caught up in my own fears that i didn’t see things clearly. i’m sorry for the way i’ve treated you.” you swallow hard, trying to process her words. 

lea reaches out, placing a comforting arm over your shoulder. “i’m glad that you found a point to start talking about your feelings now. i want us to be friends, y/n, and i want to support you and lena, not be a source of conflict.”

your heart warms as you listen to her. “thank you, lea. it means a lot to hear that from you.” 

lea smiles, a warm and understanding smile. “there is no problem, i promise. we both care about lena, and that’s something we have in common. we can use that as a way to become close.” 

you nod, feeling a sense of relief and clarity that you haven’t felt in a long time. “yeah, i’d like that. thank you for being so understanding.”

“anytime,” lea says with a reassuring nod. “now, there is just one thing—” 

your heart sunk, afraid of what lea might say. 

“you have to talk to lena now about this.” lea says, firmly. 

“i will.” you swallow.

when lea leaves your home, you feel lighter. 

just a couple of minutes later, lena comes through the door. relieved seeing you resting on the couch. 

you and lena are curled up on the couch in your shared apartment, the room dimly lit by the soft glow of a lamp. darker from when lea was there. the day has been long, and the tension between you has only recently begun to ease after your conversation with lea. 

"are you okay? I saw that hit you took from lynn earlier, is there anything you need?" lena asks, rubbing your head.

she hated that she could only stand and watch as the medics surrounded you earlier. she was glad that you had lea, sydney, pernille, and georgia watching over you.

lena’s presence beside you feels comforting, then it feels the same as it did before your conversation with the blonde german. what if lena doesn’t react so kindly? 

your girlfriend isn’t mean, so you take a deep breath, preparing to share your feelings with her.

"I am okay--- but lena,” you start, your voice quiet but steady. 

“i need to talk to you about something that’s been on my mind.”

lena looks at you, her expression soft and attentive as she plays with the hair in your ponytail. “what’s on your mind, love?”

you hesitate for a moment, then continue, “it’s about you and lea. i talked to her earlier and for a while i’ve been struggling with how close you two are. it’s not that i don’t trust you or anything—it’s just— i’ve felt this knot of jealousy and insecurity whenever i see you two together. i know it’s irrational because you;ve been friends with her since even before we knew each other, but seeing you so close with her, it makes me wonder if there’s something i’m missing.”

lena’s eyes widen with concern, and she reaches out to gently brush a strand of hair from your face that fell out of your ponytail. 

“y/n,” she says softly, her voice full of warmth. “you’ve been feeling this way? i had no idea.”

you nod, trying to hold back tears. 

“i’ve been pushing myself to stay calm and rational, but it’s been hard. i guess i just needed to hear it from you. i need to know how you really feel about lea and why you two are so close.”

lena pulls you closer, wrapping her arms around you in a comforting embrace. 

“lea and i have been friends for a long time, longer than you and i have been together. she’s like a sister to me. we’ve shared so many experiences, and that bond is deep and meaningful, its not going anywhere. but that doesn’t change how much i love you.”

you rest your head on her shoulder, feeling the warmth of her body against yours. 

“i understand that, but sometimes it feels like i’m competing with that bond. it makes me question if there’s a place for me in your life where i’m not overshadowed by your bond with her.”

lena kisses the top of your head, cheek, and nose– her touch tender and reassuring. 

“you’re not competing with anyone, y/n. my friendship with lea is important, it doesn’t come close to what i have with you. my love for you is different—it’s deeper and more significant. our relationship is something i cherish and prioritize above all.”

you close your eyes, letting her words sink in. “i needed to hear that. thank you for being so understanding. it’s just hard sometimes, seeing how easily you connect with her. maybe i didn’t understand because i’ve never had a close bond with a friend like you do with lea”

lena pulls back slightly to look into your eyes, her gaze intense and filled with sincerity. 

“i want you to know that my connection with lea is like that of family. it’s a bond that’s been built over years, and it’s special, but it’s not a reflection of how i feel about you. there’s no comparison. my love for you is above anything else– ever since i met you”

the taller girl takes your hair out of your ponytail gently– your hair falls down from the hair tie and she runs her fingers gently through your hair, her touch soothing. 

“if you ever feel uncertain or insecure, please talk to me. i want us to be open with each other. and remember, you’re my priority. nothing and no one will ever change that.”

you nod, feeling a wave of relief wash over you. “i will. i just needed to know where i stand with you.”

lena smiles, her eyes warm and loving. “well you aren’t  standing now– but you’re sitting right here, with me. and that’s exactly where we belong.”

you lean in for a kiss, feeling the connection between you deepen. the reassurance and physical affection from lena makes you feel grounded and loved.

authors note: wrote this on vacay but had to fix a ton of it since it was originally on my phone LMAO

my master list is here if you want to read more fics <3

[ink-witch111]

Have some more Lea.

[telanadasvhenan]

Slaps my lavellan this bad boy can fit so many abandonment issues

edit: uploaded the right picture lol

[katelynnwrites]

kiss you | lea schüller

warnings: ~

word count: 325

summary: you really, really want to kiss your girlfriend

a/n: this is me contributing to the lack of lea fic content on this app

you’ve had an overwhelming desire to kiss lea from the instant she scored the goal that put germany ahead of poland.

in fact, you would have kissed her on the pitch itself had the two of you not agreed to be private with your relationship.

private but not secret.

so you settle for cradling her face in your hands and pressing your forehead against hers. the both of you close your eyes for just a moment, one moment to soak it all in.

how you feel about your girlfriend is far from hidden but the gesture isn’t too public a show of affection that it reveals everything.

rather impatiently, you wait till after the celebrations with the fans are over and lea is walking down the tunnel to reach for her hand and spin her around.

your girlfriend gasps, clear shock on her face for a moment before she realises that it’s you and smiles.

‘sorry but i just couldn’t wait any longer. can we please kiss meine liebe? i’ve been wanting to kiss you since you scored that beautiful goal.’

the striker blushes but smirks, ‘and what if i say no?’

it takes an incredible amount of self control on your part not to beg and instead utter a soft, ‘please?’

lea’s crystal blue eyes sparkle with mirth and she giggles, letting her hand cup the back of your neck as she brings you in for the kiss you have been desperately hoping for.

‘better?’ she whispers against your lips, as she draws back minutely after a few seconds.

struck speechless by the blonde’s gesture, all you can do is nod rapidly to convey the boundless amounts of affection you hold for her.

the sudden fluttering of butterflies in your stomach does not help you but you think lea understands, from the way she touches her lips against yours once more before holding your hand in hers, all the way to the locker room.

German Translation:

meine liebe - my love

[totaly-obsessed]

Lea Schüller Appreciation

woso appreciation masterlist | with @alotofpockets

And a special place for these:

[kettsuper]

terrifying trio

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

some things are worth it

a/n: so, because i haven’t been able to stop thinking about this guy, especially in this au (literally had multiple dreams about him this past week) i rewatched the longest ride for the yeehaw vibes and this fantasy popped into my head.

summary: “oh, yes you do,” you tilted your head, “you flirt with me all the time, I know you do, I’m not some sheltered little virgin, I know what it looks like when someone likes me!” you felt the truck roll to a stop as you spoke. 

warnings: farmhand!tyler owens x farmer’s daughter!reader, smut, farmer au, bull rider!tyler, takes place before the previous fic in this au, secret relationship, bull riding (except i'm a suropean who has no idea what she's talking about, so apologies for the errors), love confession, secret relationship, kissing, clothed sex, car sex, size kink, manhandling, dry humping, dirty talk, handjob, fingering, thighjob, pussyjob, just the tip, overstimulation, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, why do i keep writing for this dude in the middle of the night?

word count: 4238

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

masterlist | join my taglist

“Hey,” Tyler cast you a glance as you came bouncing towards where he still worked, tinkering with the tractor that had quit halfway down one of the farm’s golden fields. 

“Hello,” you blinked down at him. A rusty toolbox was planted in the wheat by his kneeling form as he fiddled away at the machinery.

“You need help with something?” he kept on twisting a bolt. 

“Oh, no,” a shy giggle bubbled out of you, “my mom just sent me down here to invite you to stay for dinner tonight. She made a pie for dessert and everything, or well, we did, I helped… it’s rhubarb, if that can help sway you.”

“Rhubarb, eh?” he puffed out a short chuckle. 

“Yeah…”

Briefly glancing back over his shoulder at you and the way your flowy dress caught on the wind, he uttered, “I’d love to, Y/n, but–, uhm… I can’t tonight.”

“Right,” you exhaled, a nod swiftly accompanying your words, “you already have plans, of course…”

“Tell your mamma I’m sorry,” he tried to soften the blow, “next time, yeah?”

“Yeah…” you breathed, and as he returned his attention back to the machine, surely assuming that you’d bid him adieu and saunter back towards the main house, you instead shifted to lean against the tractor, “so… what are you doing tonight?”

Briefly glancing up at you, a soft smirk appeared on his lips as he purred, “you’re awfully nosy.” 

“Just tell me what your plans are,” you rolled your eyes. 

“Bull riding,” he informed you, “I ride on occasion, tonight being one of those times.”

Sucking in a breath, you uttered, “of course you do…”

Halting his tinkering with a chuckle, he pressed, “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“No, you just got adrenalin junky written all over you, so it checks out,” you gestured towards him and he let out a small laugh, retroactively confirming your accusation. As he shifted to look for a different tool, you opened your mouth once more and asked, “can I come?”

“Come what?” his concentrated gaze didn’t meet yours. 

“See you ride.”

Tyler’s eyes then snapped up to find yours, “you wanna come see me ride?” hesitation suddenly washed over his usually confident features, “uhm… I’m not sure your daddy would like that.”

“What? Me being around a bunch of rowdy and probably drunk strangers or going somewhere to see you?”

A warm chuckle then rumbled in his chest as a gentle shake found his head, “you’re trouble…”

“Is that a no?” you tilted your head in hope. 

“No…” he slowly exhaled and met your eye once more, “no it is not.”

You cheered for him at first when his name was announced and you caught a glimpse of him behind the fence, he even found your eyes in the crowd a moment as you clapped in anticipation. But then when it actually began, you stopped breathing entirely. It didn’t matter that he only had to stay on the beast for a few seconds, your heart still wouldn’t start beating again even after his boots were back on the ground and a proud grin stretched his lips. The petrified expression plastered on your features didn’t fade even when he found you afterwards and offered you a ride back home.

“You okay?” his deep timbre ripped you out of your stormy thoughts. 

Twisting your neck to blink over at him behind the wheel of his truck, you hummed, “huh?”

“You’re not usually this quiet,” he pointed out. 

“Oh… I’m just tired, I guess…” you lied, averting your gaze before you then heard yourself utter, “hey, can I ask you something?”

“Shoot,” he held his eyes on the road. 

“How is it that you haven’t been hurt yet doing all of that?”

“Oh no, I have,” a soft chuckle bubbled out of the daredevil, “just not hard enough to stop me from getting back up.” 

A murmur then escaped your lips, just beneath your breath, “either that or you’re just too determined for your own good…”

“Maybe,” he cast you a glance and smirked slightly at the embarrassment that washed over your features at the realisation that he’d heard you, “but then again, determination isn’t always a bad quality to have.”

“It is if it could get you killed.” 

“Oh, how unromantic of you,” he puffed, “I could think of a handful of ways dying would be worth whatever goal you were going for,” his eyes momentarily flickered back to you in the passenger seat beside him. 

Holding his gaze a second before he redirected it back upon the dark road, you felt goosebumps tingle your flesh. 

“Hey Tyler?” you breathed, unsure if you were able to stop the words about to flow out your mouth. 

“Yeah?”

“Are you ever actually gonna do anything?” your vulnerable question was barely audible. 

Not yet catching onto your subtext, he inquired, “about what?” 

Staring over at him, you uttered, “me.”

His eyes immediately fluttered back to find yours, gazing back at you a second before it faltered, “I–… I don’t know what you mean...”

“Oh, yes you do,” you tilted your head, “you flirt with me all the time, I know you do, I’m not some sheltered little virgin, I know what it looks like when someone likes me!” you felt the truck roll to a stop as you spoke. 

His firm grip stayed on the wheel long after the car had halted.

“Y/n, I–…” he tried, though gave up in a soft sigh. 

As he refused to meet your stare, you felt your stomach begin to flip.

“Oh…” you then breathed, blinking down at your hands as they fiddled with the fabric of the sundress that you wore, “unless I apparently don’t, I–… you know what? Forget it, I’m sorry,” your eyes squeezed shut at the mortification, “let’s just go back to the farm and pretend I didn’t say anything…”

Though his grip didn’t shift away from the wheel, didn’t drift down to twist the key and restart the engine. Instead, to your surprise, you saw him in your periphery twist towards you before you felt his hands come up to cup the sides of your face and pluck it out of hiding. 

Pulling you towards him, he then pressed his lips to your own, rendering you reeling to claw your way out of the stunned pit his bold actions had cast you into. 

As one of your palms slowly floated up to rest against the back of one of his, a soft sigh flowed from your form as you melted into his warmth. 

However, before you sank in and lost yourself completely, you felt him withdraw, though still remained close, letting his nose ghost against your own as he exhaled, “this is a really bad idea… we shouldn’t… I can’t afford to lose my job.” 

“Why would you think you’d lose it?” your fingers curled around the back of his hand in a plea to keep his touch glued to your heated cheek. 

“Have you met your father?” he scoffed softly, “I should be grateful if he only fires me and doesn’t outright kill me.” 

“He wouldn’t do that.” 

“You sure about that?” Tyler half-joked before slowly retracting even further. 

Blinking back at him, your lips still tingled from his kiss as you quietly said, “…I thought you were the one who just insisted that some things are worth dying for… I guess you just have to decide whether or not I could be worth that kind of risk…” 

A gentle chuckle then bubbled out of him as he gazed back at you in amazement, “you sound like a fair maiden 500 years ago,” twisting his fingers and tangling them in your own.  

Puffing out a laugh of your own, you defended, “well you started it!” before you felt one of his palms slide to the nape of your neck and tug you back in for another kiss. His lips felt like fire, though the slow smouldering kind that licked you up and ignited your entire soul, “if you don’t think it’s worth it,” you breathlessly uttered against his kiss, “then you should probably stop kissing me like that…” 

As a gentle smirk tugged at his mouth, he answered you not in the form of words, but instead drifted his hands down your frame and scooped you closer, plucking you up and lifting you into his lap, wasting no time at all to claim your lips again.

It didn’t take long after you settled above him, the wheel of the truck poking the lower part of your spine, that the slow peck evolved into something more, something else. Something that had muffled whines crawling up from the depth of your lungs and vibrating against his tongue as yours desperately danced against his own. Something that had you rolling your hips and grinding down against the hardness poking your panties so perfectly beneath the billowy fabric of your dress, the material of which had begun to ride up as Tyler’s wild touch began to wander over the curves of your frame. 

Panting into his mouth, your head started to lull slightly as you rocked down against him, the sensation being nearly too much to stand in the way it was both overwhelming yet also not at all enough. Nevertheless, if he gave you the chance, you’d surely be able to cum just like this if he let you, if he told you to desperately rut against him like some animal in heat, then you would, because that was just the effect he seemed to have on you. He was always able to turn your brain off with but a glance and nearly cause you to faint if he ever flashed you a dazzling smile. 

To say you had it bad was the understatement of the century, but evidently, and thankfully, you weren’t alone in the predicament. 

Snaking a hand down in the non-existent space between your frames, you found the bulky buckle of his belt and began to undo it. 

“Please,” you panted, your tone sounding downright pathetic, “I wanna–, can I touch you?”

And before you could fumble to do it, Tyler didn’t hesitate to undo his jeans and seize your hand, stuffing it into his pants and guiding your fingers to engulf his girth, squeezing them lightly around himself for but a moment before his touch then faded and he left you to your own devices.

“Oh, fuck–,” he growled, his hot breath fanning against your skin, “just like that.”

His cock throbbed in your palm as he kissed you once again and let his wide hands raked down to your ass, kneading your softness as he groaned against your lips.

But he didn’t let your zealous touch stretch out for that long before you heard him crack the door directly to his left open. His grip on your bottom locked securely as he got out of the truck, effortlessly carrying you with him as he made his way around towards the back.

His hold on you stayed fast as he flipped open the bed of the truck and plopped you down on the ledge. A soft giggle bubbled out of you, even as your hands came up to cup his jaw and he slotted himself in between your parted thighs. 

“Shit…” he exhaled as his gaze fluttered down to spot the damp spot decorating your underwear, neatly on show as your sundress had ridden up even further. Your legs dangled slightly off the edge as his touch then reached down to trace the mark of desperation, your bottom lip swiftly getting trapped betwixt your teeth as he rubbed you through the soaked cotton, “guess you really do have a thing for me, sweetheart,” his teasing touch traced your core as the sodden fabric clung to you, “I mean, not that I didn’t already have my suspensions…” 

“You knew?”

“You’re not exactly subtle when it comes to these things,” he chuckled before letting his fingers dip into your waistband, “it’s cute,” he smiled as your eyes fluttered when his digits swept through your folds, scooping back up to your puffy pearl as it buzzed beneath his caress, “I always enjoyed all the random little reasons you came up with just to have an excuse to talk to me.”

“Okay, I know they weren’t always that smooth,” an embarrassed heat sparked in your cheeks, “but it’s a lot harder than you’d think it is.”

“Oh, I know,” he stated casually, grinning at the way your eyes suddenly grew, “what? Did you really think I just happened to always have some work in the barn whenever you went for a ride?” one of his long fingers then eased into you, causing your mouth to fall open in a silent gasp. 

“Wait, seriously?”

“And the time I needed your help learning the system in the tool shed?” another one of his digits found its way inside of your cunt, rendering you a panting mess in his grasp as he leisurely pumped his fingers in and out, stretching you till your pussy sang out for him, “I already knew where everything was.”

The reply that was ready on your tongue swiftly fizzled out and became a forgotten relic as his touch then dissipated and instead floated down to where his jeans were already half undone. Tugging it the rest of the way open, he then stuffed his hand inside and freed his cock. Like a moth to a flame, your eyes couldn’t help but stare, yearning as you watched his cock throb in his tight fist. 

“O-oh, fuck…” the curse flowed out your lungs as your gaze stayed glued, nearly drooling as he suddenly hooked his grasp behind one of your legs and yanked you closer, causing you to tumble back onto your forearms as he manoeuvred your core that much closer to him. Hooking his fingers in the material of your panties, he slid them down your legs and, to your amazement, stuffed them into his pocket. As he then began to tap the hefty weight of his length down against your puffy petals, causing glossy strings of your desire to cling onto him and keep you ethereally attached, your eyes snapped back up to find his and the same whimper left your body once again, “oh, f-fuck…”

Trailing the bulbous tip through your wetness, he teasingly nudged the head against your swollen clit fiercely enough to make your whole frame twitch beneath him. 

“God… you feel so good…” he groaned, staring down at how his fat cock slid through and parted your glistening folds.

“Uh, Tyler–,” you begged hazily, your little hole winking every time he denied it any attention, “p-please–”

“What is it, baby?” he cooed smugly, “you want me to fuck you?”

“Uh-huh,” you nodded foggily, your gaze flickering back down to watch his teasing. 

“You wanna know what my cock feels like inside your pretty little pussy, huh?” his touch then dented your thighs, pressing both of your legs together, enclosing them around his girth and resting your ankles atop one of his broad shoulders. 

“P-please–”

“Is it all you’ve been thinking about?” the softness of your thighs interlocked around him lend him to snap his hips against yours and freely fuck your folds, the underside of him sliding against the seem of your cunt, “what’s been occupying that brilliant brain of yours?” he smirked and you couldn’t help but rock back against his efforts, “because it’s all I’ve been thinking about… how warm you must feel around me, how tight, how fucking wet, how–, fuck!” he then moaned as the way you’d needily tilted your hips up towards him lend his length to accidentally catch your leaking hole and sink in just the slightest bit till he halted his movements.

A shuttering gasp escaped you as well at the sensation as he’d nearly caused tears to roll down your cheeks from how badly you wanted him. 

As he caught your eye, his grip digging into your legs in order to hold on to his last strand of self-control, you panted up at him just as he was about to pull back out, “don’t stop.”

Staring down at you, absorbing your every reaction, he slid the tip back out, but so painstakingly slow that it caused your eyes to roll in your skull. 

“But what if I did though? What if I just stopped, right here, right now? Just drove you back to the farm and left you a needy little puddle just like this?”

“No, don’t stop! Don’t–, I–…” your walls clung around his girth, “please just keep going, it can just be the tip, I just–, don’t stop…”

When just the memory of him kissed your entrance, he gently sank back in and stuffed the bulbous head inside your cunt, “you sure you just want the tip?” he slowly found a pattern, fucking you with just the essence of him, “you sure you don’t wanna feel me so deep inside of you that you won’t be able to walk afterwards? That you’ll still be able to feel what we did for days and days?”

Blinking up at him, your legs trembling against his chest, you breathed, “I–…” till your dizzy head began to rock in a nod. 

“Yeah?” he cocked his head and flashed you a smug smile, “then beg for it.”

“Please fuck me–”

“What was that?”

“F-fuck me–”

“What, like I am right now?” he rolled his hips to just shyly plug you up. 

“No, fuck me for real,” your words felt not your own as they desperately flowed out of you, “fuck me exactly like you’ve been dreaming of since we first met, since you first–, ah!” all of the air was then forced out of your lungs as he slammed the remainder of himself all the way inside, stretching you wide of him and letting the tip, the very part of him that had been driving you mad, kiss the deepest part of you and cause your eyes to flutter shut. 

Your knees bent and crumbled down to curl up beside your chest as he meticulously slid halfway out, only to jam his dick back inside. 

He was practically growling above you, sinful grunts rhythmically flowing from his lips at every one of his frantic thrusts.

“Oh my god,” you cried beneath him as your cunt swiftly began to flutter around him, “you f-feel so–, so–, g-good!”

“Oh yeah?” he smirked and then perceptively asked, “are you gonna cum?” leaning down over you as he kept up his efforts. 

You tried to offer him an answer, but in the blissful abyss he’d cast you down in, you could only nod and squeeze your eyes further shut. 

“Then look at me, baby,” you sensed his fingers curl around your cheek, his reach dipping into your hairline, “be a good girl and look at me when you cum around my cock,” and when you managed to force your hazy eyes to blink back open, he stared back down at you as your cunt clenched down around him so fiercely that you nearly forced his girth out entirely, “there you go, fuck…”

But as your high began to melt away into sensitivity, the blonde farmhand didn’t slow his efforts in the slightest, moaning above you as he also was too close to cum to simply stop.

“Tyler, it’s too–,” you whimpered, your thighs shaking on either side of his frame as the creamy aftermath of your orgasm created a ring around the base of his cock and aided his erratic efforts, lending the entirety of his length to plunge back into you with such ease, even as your walls quaked and squeezed tightly around him. 

“Shh, you can take it,” he uttered hazily, “fucking take it, fucking–, ahh!” his hips then shuttered as he tumbled over the edge and pumped you full of his hot load. 

When Tyler one day had an errand to run, some thingy he had to pick up at a neighbouring farm, you hadn’t really paid attention to that part, you had kinda just stopped listening after the discovery that you would get to tag along simply because the neighbour knew you better than him. 

So, once you were both waiting on the ground for the farmer to return with the item, just a curious look to make the time pass by morphed into the pair of you full-on wandering around and being more nosy than what was good for you. 

Though the snooping halted once you pushed open the door to the westernmost barn and discovered a DIY contraption that tickled Tyler’s nostalgia. 

It was a tin barrel, strung up with ropes and tied to a few beams, though he still had to open his mouth for you to fully understand how it was a homemade training tool for when you first began learning how to ride a bull.

By then, some of the fear you’d felt the night you had watched him ride had overflowed and spilt out, which surely also was the reason behind why he suddenly insisted on you hopping on and letting him try to teach the terror out of you. 

“So, like that?” you asked, one of your hands hovering above the one you clutched around the makeshift loop tied around the uppermost quadrant of the barrel you straddled. 

“Almost, you’re only allowed to hold on with the one hand,” he pointed out and you swiftly adjusted, raising your left hand up high just as you remembered he’d done, “yeah, there you go.”

“So, just eight seconds like this?” your thighs squeezed around the drum as Tyler gently tugged on one of the ropes, only making you sway slightly. 

“Yeah,” he nodded as you glanced over at him, “and then there are other things that can get you more points, like how well you hold your balance and if you’re able to control the bull or not, those kinds of things.” 

He then caught you off guard by pulling on the rope a little rougher and offering you a much harsher and more realistic buck of the barrel, though, to your shock, you reacted to it surprisingly well, clenching your thighs and tightening your grip. 

“Atta girl,” he grinned at the startled chuckle that bubbled out of you, “see? It’s not so scary. You’re a natural.”

“Or maybe you’re just going easy on me…” you pointed out, reflecting on how the love you’d had for riding horses since a very young age surely kicked in and aided you in this skill as well. 

“You’re doing great,” he stated, his stare staying glued to how your body and hips swayed borderline sensually to the rhythm he kept up, “relax, give in to the movements more.” 

“How?”

“Just–…” he sucked in a breath, “pretend that you’re on something else…” a sly smirk then spread across his features before he uttered, “pretend that it’s me you’re riding.”

You then promptly felt heat begin to rise in your cheeks, as it became impossible to keep up your concentration on the task at hand and swiftly heard yourself shriek, “oh my god, Tyler Owens!”

Letting go of the rope, he stepped closer to you and enjoyed your flustered visage, “or better yet, maybe I should just let you hop on and teach you that way,” he let his palm slide up your leg as he came to stand beside you. 

“You’re ridiculous!” you laughed.

Snaking his hands around your waist, he then effortlessly lifted you back down onto the ground and uttered, “you love it.”

As you felt his breath fan across your features, your giggle got caught in your throat and faded away as you gazed back at him. 

“Yeah, I think I might…” you then whispered before he crashed his lips against yours. 

His boots then began to shuffle as yours did as well, letting him shift you till your spine collided with the gate to one of the empty stalls in the dusty barn. Pushing you up against it as he ravenously kissed you, one of his wide palms then swooped up from his fast hold on your waist to caress the soft peak of your boob through the thin layer of your tanktop. 

A breathy moan couldn’t help but slip up from your lungs when his kisses then faded from your lips and began to dance down the side of your neck. 

“Okay, easy there, tiger,” you caught his head in your hands as his sloppy pecks fluttered against your rapid pulse, “we can’t do anything here.”

“Oh yeah?” he cocked an eyebrow as he peeked up at you, “is that a dare?”

“No,” you chuckled, then reminded him of your neighbour, “he’ll be back any second.”

A groan then seeped through his grin before he pushed himself off of you, “fine…” yet still held his burly arms stretched out and fast on either side of you, supporting his weight against the half wall behind you and doing his very best to stop himself from diving back in.

But then you slowly let yourself float back into his space, “hey,” and tilted your chin to catch his gaze, “I said not here, not that we shouldn’t give it a try…”

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble

[leascorner]

b.b. | With child

Summary: He was so absorbed by his own created misery; he hadn’t actually thought about what you could be thinking. How hard was it for you to congratulate all of your friends on their pregnancy, to watch over all of his nieces and nephews? It was all within easy reach and never really yours.

Pairing:  Benedict Bridgerton x f!reader

Warnings: angst ('cause I can't write anything else), alluding to sex (no description whatsoever), discussions around pregnancy, pregnancy, mention of alcohol.

Words Count: 2.1k

Author's Notes: Had this in the work for the longest time. I was actually thinking to publish it for his season (#4 I hope!). But we got new stills of Season 3 and it's nearly Valentine's Day so... Enjoy!

“Are you-” you asked when you noticed your sister-in-law had let her glass of wine and her plate untouched.

Your words stayed lost on your tongue, yet Daphne, sat in front of Benedict and next to you, knew exactly what you were about and nodded slightly, tears in her eyes. You let out a small cry of excitement and leant in to hug her. While you wore the most delighted expression, Benedict’s heart sunk a little at the news.

His sister was with child. Again. She was the second women of his family to be expecting this year, while he had yet an exciting news to share himself.

You both had wed a little over than a year and a half ago now and were yet to be blessed with a child. You were doing your best, of course, but none your efforts had been fruitful so far. Benedict did not mind; he had waited his whole life to meet you, he definitely could wait a little bit longer.

He did not mind, or so he thought…

Tonight, he thought life was particularly unfair to him. Every pregnancy announcement was only nourishing this harrowing feeling in his chest. All he could feel was his siblings’ bliss and it made him sick to the stomach. Yes, he was sick with jealousy - and ultimately selfish. He just couldn’t wait to feel your belly growing, to hold your children, to watch them playing around with their cousins, for them to grow older and become adults themselves. Just this simple thought made his very own heart felt extremely heavy.

Politely and quietly, he raised his glass wishing his sister a healthy pregnancy, before drinking away his sorrow.

The ride home that night was particularly quiet.

Silence had never been a thing between the two of you. Benedict was usually the most talkative, telling you about his days, about whatever painting he was going to paint, about that book he had been reading. You would listen, looking back at him with your big bright eyes and a soft smile onto your lips. Other times, he would watch you pacing back and forth in his study while passionately debating about politics. He would be drawing imaginary circles on your soft skin as you were lying in bed, you telling him about another one of your days chaperoning one of his sisters. He would listen to your laugh at one of his jokes. Even your fights would be followed by soft apologies, quiet words, whimpers, and love.

On the contrary, that night, the air was thick with something he couldn’t quite describe, and the coach was wrapped up in dark clouds, a genuine storm in the awakening. Sat on the opposite side, you were looking through the window, your face only light up by the few shines of the full moon. Benedict was so focused on his own thought that he didn’t realize you hadn’t had a word for the rest of the night.

He was so absorbed by his own created misery; he hadn’t actually thought about what you could be thinking. How hard was it for you to congratulate all of your friends on their pregnancy, to watch over all of his nieces and nephews? It was all within easy reach and never really yours. It only made him angrier at the entire world. Why couldn’t they let you live this as well?

He would have liked to discuss this with you - his regrets, his hope - but he was too afraid you would realize what a failure he was. How disappointed with him you were. How you would hate him for not being able to offer you this. So, he sat back in his seat and watched out of his own window.

When the coach stopped in front of your residence, Benedict got out first, offering his hand to help you getting down the small step like he always did. You smiled at him, thanking him politely, and let go of his hand as soon as your two feet were on the ground. It didn’t mean anything, he tried to reassure himself, you needed both of your hands to grab the tissue of your dress to prevent the hem from getting wet and dirty. Yet, he couldn’t help the sharp pain in his chest.

Silently, he followed you inside, hat in his hands, jaw locked. You were welcomed as usual by your housemaid, who got both of your coats and stayed there, in the uncomfortable silence, arms full, waiting for one of you to dismiss her. As you took off your gloves and didn’t dare look at Benedict, he nodded sharply to let her know she could go and watched her somehow disappear in an instant.

Suddenly, it was only the two of you again and it was all too much for him. He couldn’t breathe properly; his chest being crushed by the invisible weight of his sorrow. He couldn’t bare staying with you one more second. He needed to get out of here.

“Good night,” he said firmly, before walking to his study.

Would he have looked back he would have seen you watching him disappear in the corridor. You, all alone in the middle of the hall, arms dangling. He would have seen the frown on your face and the hurt in your eyes. Would he have looked back he would have run back to your side. Instead, he did none of that. He continued marching, head up high, trying to escape his own misery.

You sighed before turning in the opposite direction and to your shared bedroom.

Benedict went to bed less than an hour after you.

He had been haunted by guilt as soon as he had reached his study, sadness evaporating once he had stepped inside the room. Instead of turning back and chasing after you, he had tried to put his head in order. He then had tried painting whatever he was feeling, but he could only stay in front of his white canvas, terrified of laying his brush on the cotton. He had tried writing it, but he couldn’t concentrate enough; his thoughts always drifting to you, alone in your bedroom. He had then settled on having a drink to wait long enough for you to fall asleep before he could go to bed - his other option would have been to sleep in his study if he got too drunk, which he did not.

He had thought long about the whole situation. It wasn’t like you were not trying. Sometimes, even with doing the right things, it didn’t happen. He would need to accept this. And he couldn’t continue being a terrible husband. It wasn’t your fault; it wasn’t anybody’s fault actually. What he knew more than anything though was that he loved you. Whatever would happen, he could not afford to lose you.

He had decided he would come clean tomorrow, but for now, he only wanted to sleep with you by his side.

In the dark of your room, Benedict undressed and lied besides you as silently as possible.

All he could hear was your uneven breathing; whatever dream you were having did not seem to be pleasant. He reached out to your arm, hoping that you could feel his presence through his touch and know he would always be there for you.

It wasn’t until your body was rocked by a hiccup that he understood that you were not having a bad dream, you were crying.

“Y/N?” he asked, lying on his side to face your back.

“I am so sorry,” your voice was only a whisper.

He gently made you roll on your side. Even in the dark, his right hand was able to find your face and his thumb to rub the tears away. Before he could ask what was wrong, you spoke:

“I am so-” You chocked on – yet – another sob and it took you a couple of seconds to even out your breathing so you could speak properly: “So sorry- for not being able to get you- get you what you ever wanted.”

“My love,” he sighed, grabbing the back of your neck to bring you closer. Instinctively, you hide your face in his chest, and he started stroking your hair to try and calm you. “My love, do not ever feel guilty on this.”

“I have tried every tea, every method that is supposed to help,” you cried some more.

It broke his heart to realize the burden on your heart - of course, if he was feeling it, you would have too. He finally understood how selfish he had been, how centred on his own pain he was and so oblivious to yours. It had never been a subject between the two of you, but it was slowly crushing you both.

“My love, this is not your fault.”

“You don’t see the pity in their eyes. You don’t hear them whisper.” You sniffled against his chest, arms wrapped around his waist. “We are even blessed Lady Whistletown has not written about us.” He heard the frustration in your voice and the ton of it made him understand how you had tried to suppress the guilt but failed. It pained him that out of all of this, it was you who were the one being charged guilty by everyone - you included. As if you couldn’t imagine it being his own fault. As if you couldn’t imagine it being anyone’s fault but yours.

“Perhaps, I-” he stopped, running a hand through his hair out of frustration. “I drink loads of Colin’s stupid tea; I paint with all sorts of chemicals substance. Perhaps, I can’t-”

“Ben, of course, no!”        

“Perhaps we won’t ever-” he confessed, but he couldn’t even say it out loud. It was all too much.

You moved against him, and he felt both of your hands grabbing his face, your forehead resting again his. He felt your hot breath against his skin, and he hugged you tighter, crushing your bones, making sure you were close.

He had you, he kept repeating himself. It was all that mattered. Of course, it was a dear wish of his to see mini versions of yourselves running around, but not at all costs. He wasn’t willing to sacrifice what you both had, right here, right now.

“We are both healthy, it is more than all I could ever wish for.”

“Will this ever be enough for you, though?” you asked so quietly he nearly did not hear you.

Benedict frowned. Was it really what you thought? That he would leave you? That your own self was not enough for him? He had been an even more terrible husband he had thought to lead you thinking this. He had failed you on so many levels.

“I was so absorbed by my own desire of having my own family,” he whispered back like he was telling you a secret, “I never asked if you also desire to have children of your own.”

“Ben, of course, I want your children!”

Benedict wanted to express how grateful he was to have you in his life, but no words came to his mind at that moment. He only reached out to your lips, trying to express how much he loved you.

If he could not tell you, he could still show you…

Hours later, while you were lying in bed, your head on Benedict’s chest, his left hand drawing invisible love words on your back and the other holding you close, he thought that there was nothing else he would like to do than stay with you, like this, forever.

“We should just take some time away from here.”

“What do you mean? The season only began-”

“To hell with worldliness. Some time away, just the two of us.” The sun was slowly peeking through the blinds, its yellow light was painting on your naked skin a glowy spectrum. “I heard South of France is particularly beautiful, this time of the year.”

Your chin on his chest, you looked back at him, eyes bright. He was looking at you the same way you had catch him do a million time: a soft smile on his lips, his eyes filled of this spark, shinning only for you. You didn’t care how beautiful France would be, he was the most beautiful view you had ever laid eyes on.

His hand brushed some hair out of your face, and you grabbed it to kiss his knuckles.

“France, it is then.”

Little did you know, you would be coming back home a few months later, bearing your own little miracle.

One of the many to come.

[slut4msby]

don't fuck your co-workers. kuroo tetsurō x fem!reader

+ tags & warnings; heavily suggestive, implied smut, use of the word "slut" like once & reader deffo sleeps around

+ a/n; listen to the title guys, don't fuck ur co-workers pls its not good and this does include dating, it's BAD (been there done that). also this is my longest one-shot yet (wc; 1544) AND first none inarizaki one-shot I AM A CHANGED WOMAN

Don’t fuck your co-workers.

That is the one unspoken rule of the workplace, right? It ruins the dynamic and adds unneeded tension to an already dreaded environment. But what if having sex with your coworkers is the only way to make it to the top. You were smart, you knew that. But more than your brains you had the looks. And even more dangerous, you knew how to use them. Use them to your advantage. Low of you? Maybe. Did it work? Yes. 

You can’t help but let out a sigh at the emails sitting in front of you. Who knew having a job meant you would actually have to do work. Maybe becoming a sugar baby would have been the easier option. As the music plays throughout your headphones, trying to find some motivation to respond to the endless company emails that sit in front of you. Maybe you should just walk out now and marry rich. 

“L/N-san? Are you good?” Your coworker says as he walks past your desk.

Your head darts up, looking at the handsome figure in front of you. Kuroo Tetsurō. One of the men in the building you have yet to sleep with. Kuroo was seen as higher than you in the business, so maybe getting in bed with him would give you a better chance at being the business woman you had dreamt of. 

“Earth to L/N?” Kuroo says again, this time waving his hand to get your attention.

Crap. You had zoned out. You nod your head in response. Kuroo peered down at you with confusion. “Actually, Kuroo-san, can you give me a hand responding to this email? I am unsure what they are asking…” you manage to spit out.

“Oh sure, L/N.” He walks next to you, leaning down looking at your monitor. It was an email from a random sports team. Even Kuroo could agree this email was confusing. As he read the words on the screen, you turned to look at him. He looked hot whilst concentrating. Actually, he had always been hot. But one step at a time, right? 

“Oh I see what they are asking now.” Kuroo then goes on to explain the email and how he would respond. You couldn’t help but look at him through your eyelashes. Maybe you were having too much fun sleeping around in the office. Call it what you want, but it gave you some fun and it was efficient. Almost all of the men fell under your control, all of them but Kuroo Tetsurō.

 You could tell Kuroo was paying attention to what you were doing, and he couldn’t deny his attraction to you. Ever since you were hired. Starting off as the pretty secretary all the men would flirt with on their way in. Leaving you coffee and treats each morning. All of the men but Kuroo, who tried to show zero interest in you. Keeping your relationship strictly professional. It wasn’t because he did want anything to do with you. He wanted everything to do with you. However when you had first walked in the building Kuroo was seeing someone, a lady who would often pop in. She was beautiful, sweet and funny. Everyone loved her. However, you started seeing her less. And eventually not at all. Of course this was strange, you happened to ask Kuroo one morning when he walked in when he casually mentioned their breakup. It was sad, but also gave you an opening. You know you should listen to girl code or whatever, but he was too good to miss out on. Maybe your morals weren’t there, but fuck morals. 

“Ah! I get it now, thanks Kuroo-san.” You say shyly, maybe he liked the more innocent approach? “I’ll finish it off now.” You smile.

“No worries, L/N san.” He responded, “If you need anything else I’ll be in my office.”

Good to know.

You looked at him once again, with an innocent look in your eyes. This worked on everyone else in the building. Why not him? The day continued as you answered emails, all your coworkers leaving the building as the sun went down.

“Bye Y/N!” Your coworker Rin said as he walked past. Now it was just you and Kuroo. After your encounter today you were determined to get something out of him. At this point it didn’t mater if fucking Kuroo lead to a promotion or not. It was more like your personal mission, the only thing to satisfy you. Was it a sexual fantasy? Essentially. I mean Kuroo was toned, he had dark hair and dark eyes. Kuroo exerted a mysterious and intriguing vibe. But on top of that Kuroo was funny, smart, cunning, and powerful. He wasn’t head of the JVA but he was high enough where if you convinced him to put in a good word your business woman fantasy would become more than true. 

You got up from your desk, adjusting your skirt and fiddling with the buttons of your shirt. Each step brings you closer to Kuroo as you knock on the door to his office. “Kuroo-san? Are you still here?” You ask softly, as you slowly open the door you see Kuroo sitting in his seat. His laptop closed. 

“Oh hey L/N-san did you need something? I was just getting ready to go home.” Kuroo replies, staring at you. Staring at you. If he didn’t know any better he would have eaten you alive. Your hair now slightly dishevelled, your blouse slightly unbuttoned leaving your lacy bra and cleavage on display, your skirt hugging your hips perfectly, and the thigh high boots making your legs look ever so sexy. Kuroo swears you didn’t look like this last time he saw you. He had heard rumours of your escapades, seeing you know he didn’t blame the men you toyed with. If he could, he would take you right here right now.

“Oh, I just kinda felt scared and lonely by myself. Pathetic to admit I know…” You admit with a very vulnerable tone. It wasn’t a lie, you were lonely and a little scared. You slowly start walking over to Kuroo’s desk, he slowly gets up and walks towards you closing the gap. “Kuroo-san? Why do you keep calling me L/N-san? You refer to everyone else by their first name? Everyone else refers to me by my first name…”

Kuroo knew the reason. It was so he formed no unneeded attachment to you. He already felt attached. For why? He will never know, since the day he met you even being in a relationship he wanted you. Maybe that was part of the reason Kuroo had broken up with his partner, but who knows? Anyone would be naive to deny the sexual tension between you and Kuroo. Maybe it was finally his time to strike? 

“Well why do you call me Kuroo-san, y/n.” He says his hand now on your face, tilting your head up to look up at him. God he looked good. “You call everyone else their first name.”

“I-I don’t know Ku-Tetsurō.” You can’t help but stutter. You were usually the dominant one but something about him made you weak. He had full control over you right now, and you enjoyed it. You know if someone walked in it would be over. You had fucked multiple co-workers before, never in the office. You weren't sure if Kuroo wanted you like that, right here and right now.

“You know, Y/N I have never been the biggest fan of my name… Yet it sounds so pretty when you say it, princess.” He says moving his face closer to yours. God that nickname made you have butterflies, made you want to give him everything right now. 

“Tetsu-” Kuroo cuts you off.

“But I am not going to act dumb with you right now, sweetheart. I know what you have been up to. I know about Rin, Haru, Emori, Yuto, etcetera. About you being the office slut.” He says into your ear softly. “Don’t think I am like one of them Y/N.”

You weakly nod.

“And you know this is wrong?” Kuroo asks.

Another nod comes out as you look up at him with doe-like eyes.

“So, why do you continue?” Kuroo questions.

“I wanted none of them, none of them satisfied me, Tetsurō.” You weakly admit.

“And you think I can do that?” Kuroo responds.

“I know you can, Tetsurō.” 

Kuroo began kissing up your neck, your arms wrapped around his. He slowly lifted you up, your legs wrapped around his waist. The kiss now moving to your lips, desperate. You both knew how long you wanted this, since the day you sat down as a secretary. It was even better than he could imagine, your lips soft and tender. You tasted like the watermelon lip balm he would watch you apply. Wishing it was him touching these lips instead.

It was wrong, oh so wrong.

“Tetsu- I need more than this.” You whine, pulling away for some air.

“I know, princess. Why don’t you pack up and we can go home, hm?” 

An offer you couldn’t refuse.

Lets just say, you got that promotion and so much more.

©slut4msby

[changetyre]

Big Sister Ⓢ

SUMMARY: Max and y/n navigate through telling Lea she'll be a big sister and meeting Ivy. Part of Verstappen Family verse

WARNINGS: None? Pregnancy, Birth.

A/N: *Requested

"Lea baby can you come here a second?" You sat down with your husband on the couch in the living room where your daughter happily played on the carpet.  

"You start." Max quickly whispered. 

You both had been discussing for a while how you were going to tell Lea she was a big sister, it seemed like the news couldn't come at a worse time since Lea was having a faze of being extremely possessive of her parents, and even watching Max play with other drivers kids made her sob in anger. 

So the thought of telling Lea she would now have to permanently share her parents for the rest of her life didn't seem like the best news to tell her. 

"Mommy come play?" Lea whined instead of listening. 

"Lea please come here we can play in a second," Max repeated firmly. 

Lea knew this meant it was a last warning for her to listen and reluctantly got up to go to her parents. 

"Papa up." Lea tapped Max's lap. 

Max picked his daughter up before setting her down on his lap facing the both of them. 

"So Lea, Papa, and I have some news to share with you okay?" You watched as your daughter nodded fiddling with her dad's fingers obviously oblivious to what was to come. 

"Lea you know how much we love you right?" Max asked his daughter. 

"More than life!" Lea cheered happily used to hearing it from you both. 

"Exactly and you know nothing will ever change how much we love you right? Because you'll always be my baby Lea." You added. 

Lea nodded still keeping her gaze down to her fiddling hands. 

"Okay, you can tell us how you feel about it Lea but there's no need for you to throw a tantrum okay?" Max asked his daughter who nodded once again. 

"Okay Lea mommy is pregnant okay...which means you're gonna be a big sister soon." You laid it all out. 

Both you and Max held your breaths expecting a big reaction from your daughter...she continued fiddling with her dad's fingers and Max was about to ask if she had even heard before Lea shrugged. "Okay." she simply said. 

Both you and Max shared a look of uncertainty, she didn't look either angry or happy, she was just...indifferent.

"Lea, do you understand there will be some changes soon?" Max asked his daughter. 

"Yeah, uhm but Papa I want to keep my cars...I can share dolls but not cars." Lea casually chatted with her dad. 

"uh yeah okay." Max was unsure of how to reply. "That's okay I think baby won't be able to play until she's a little older but thank you for sharing your dolls." Max looked at you as if asking for some guidance to which you shrugged. 

You both had prepared for any big reaction but had no idea what to do with this calmness. 

"Okay...good job Mommy." Lea placed a kiss on your cheek before hopping down from her father's lap. "Can I go play now?" Lea asked to which you both nodded unsure of what else to say. 

____________________

"Max" You shook Max awake after spending the last hour walking around in pain and timing your contractions, figuring out if it was finally time or not but once it got too painful to move you knew it was time to wake up your husband. 

"y/n?" Max muttered sleepily. 

"Max it's time." You voiced the seriousness of the situation. 

"Mhm, it's time." Max readjusted his sleeping position before settling to sleep again. You looked at your husband confused before he jumped out of bed. "OMG IT'S TIME?!" He asked loudly now wide awake as he faced you and placed a hand on your stomach watching you groan in pain at another contraction. 

"Shush you're gonna wake Lea, Let's go...I texted the boys, Lando should be here any minute." You told Max as he rushed to get some sweats and a hoodie on. You had made a plan that once it was time you'd let Daniel and Lando know so that they could stay with Lea while you and Max headed to the hospital. 

Max ran to grab your hospital bags before rushing to grab the car keys and a other few things before helping you into some more comfortable clothes all while reminding you to do the breathing techniques you'd learnt. 

As if on queue Lando rushed in with his emergency keys. "Lea is asleep we're headed out now." Max kept his voice down. 

"Okay, good luck, text me." Lando hugged his friend and then placed a quick kiss on your cheek before you both headed out. 

Once at the hospital thankfully everything was quick and straightforward, unlike your first pregnancy where the birth took a little longer than you would've liked. It only took a few hours before you and Max were holding your newborn baby girl in your arms. 

"She's so perfect." you sniffled as you looked down at your baby girl who took hold of your finger with her tiny hand. 

"She really is." Max wiped his own tears, it always amazed Max how he felt like he physically had no more love to give between his wife and daughter but looking at his newborn it was like his love expanded a thousandfold. 

Max was distracted by the sound of his phone ringing looking down and seeing a FaceTime call from Lando. 

"Hey is everything okay?" Max answered worried about how his now older daughter might be coping now that she should be waking up. 

"Yeah, Lea wants to know her mommy is okay, I tried to distract her but she won't eat breakfast unless she knows her mom is fine," Lando explained as Max heard his daughter crying in the background. 

Max looked at you asking for your permission, you quickly nodded and Max brought the phone towards you being careful not to show your bare chest. "Hey." Lando gasped in awe seeing the newborn in your arms. 

He almost got too distracted before remembering he was meant to pass the phone to Lea. Walking towards her he pointed the screen to a crying Lea who quickly calmed at seeing her mom with her new baby sister. 

"Lea baby meet Ivy." You spoke softly to your daughter. 

Lea was entranced by the baby in your arms. "Hi Ivy...I'm Lea your big sister." Lea spoke softly matching your tone. 

Ivy cooed making your heart swell at your two daughters communicating. "I think she wants to meet you, baby." You smiled. "Are you okay my darling? We'll be home soon okay." You reassured Lea. 

"I'm okay mommy, Danny said he'd bring me doughnuts." Lea smiled brightly, Max couldn't help but laugh at his best friend's behavior knowing it was always a danger to leave Lea alone with her godfather. 

"Of course, he will..." you laughed too. "Lando?" 

"Yep." Lando popped back on the screen immediately smiling down at a now happy and calm Lea. 

"Max wants to ask you something." You winked before gesturing for Max to turn the phone back around. 

"Hey, man...uh." Max scratched the back of his neck nervously never really being good with sentiments. "I was wondering if maybe you'd want to be Ivy's godfather?" Max asked his friend a decision that seemed obvious to you when you first realized the connection Lando had with Lea and how easily you would trust him with her life just like Daniel.  

"Uh-" It was hard to gouge Lando's reaction without seeing his face. "Yeah, man...I'd love to." your heart swelled again at hearing Lando unable to hide his shaky voice as he began crying. 

"Unco Wando!" You heard Lea's concerned voice calling for him. 

"I'm okay baby, it's happy tears," Lando reassured her. 

"Papa bring momma and baby sis home soon!" Lea called for her dad. 

"I will Lea...I promise you I will." Max felt like his heart could burst surrounded by the people he loved the most.

______

"And this is Chals caw, and this is Danny's caw, OH OH this is Papa's caw!" You watched with pride as Lea showed her baby sister her toys despite the fact Ivy's eyes were shut and she was fast asleep in her baby rocking chair. 

"I love you." Your husband whispered in your ear as he walked behind you wrapping his arms around you being careful not to squeeze. 

"I love you more...and I love them like I never knew I could love before." You leaned your head back on his shoulder as you both just took in how gentle Lea was being with her sister. 

"She's going to be such a good big sister." Max smiled. 

"She already is." you acknowledged. 

"What are we gonna do about him?" Max asked as you both turned to a snoring Lando on the couch. 

"Give him a break my love he's barely slept a blink in 2 days worrying about us and looking after Lea." You felt bad for the young man. 

"hmm...he really does love us doesn't he?" Despite struggling with verbally expressing love Max knew Lando was indispensable in his life. 

"He's family." You watched as your husband laid a blanket over him. 

"Yep...he's family." he laughed before joining his two daughters in whatever game Lea had made up for them.

[leaentries]

NEVER MEANT FOREVER - QUINN HUGHES

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SYNOPSIS: there was no way quinn would ever have feelings for his best friend, never.

WARNINGS: angst w/ happy ending, misunderstanding, alcohol, drinking, getting drunk, loser guy harassing reader in a bar, reader breaks a bottle over a loser guys head, reader gets punched, quinn pulling a colin bridgerton (iykyk), swearing, reader gets into an accident, non-life threatening injuries, protective quinn, not proofread

[4.39k+]

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“You know, the longer you stare at her the more pathetic you look.”

“I’m not staring.” 

“Really? Cause I don’t think you’ve blinked in the past ten minutes.” 

With rolling eyes, Quinn finally tore his gaze away from where you stood, enticed in an animated conversation with a random guy. He looked to Jack with an unamused face, hands twirling the straw that danced with the ice of his empty rum and coke. Irritation stirred at the back of his neck, causing him to grunt as he stretched out the muscle. As annoying as Jack could be, he wasn’t necessarily wrong in this situation. 

“Can you blame me?” Quinn barked, “She’s over there smiling with some jackass she’s never met before.” 

Jack just let out a cackle that, to Quinn, reminded him far too much of their father, “It’s called mingling, Quinny.” He slapped a hand firmly onto the older boy’s shoulder, “We came here to have fun and that’s exactly what she’s doing.”

“Well, she could at least be smart about it and not talk to strangers.” He placed the tip of his straw into his mouth, blowing into the empty cup. Quinn knew he sounded like a whiney toddler, but he couldn’t seem to bring himself to care. Not when it came to you. You had been by Quinn’s side since he got drafted, recently having been hired onto the Canuck’s marketing team. It was all too easy for the boy to immediately cling to your side since both of you were new to living in a new country by yourselves. The both of you found a special solace with each other that could only be described as “home.” At least, that’s what it felt like to Quinn. 

You had become a rock, a symbol of strength and perseverance through his rookie year, and that only seemed to grow stronger with each passing season. He found himself falling reliant on you and your presence, through the little things you would do, such as bringing him lunch when he had been going overtime on the ice or simply helping him clean up the mess of his apartment. Whatever it may be, Quinn couldn’t push away the feelings he had associated with you and your relationship. However, all he could chalk it up to was that you were his best friend, nothing more. 

“Said the world’s biggest introvert,” Jack remarked, “Dude, if you don’t want her to flirt with other people then grow a pair and ask her out.” 

This statement had Quinn’s eyes bulging and shards of ice shooting through the straw he had placed in his mouth. He turned his head, partially to cover his cough, but mostly to hide the red that bloomed on the skin under his stubble. Quinn felt a twang of panic surge through his stomach, nerves spiking. 

Now if you ask Jack, he’d say Quinn was stupid, which could be the only reason the eldest brother let the phrase fall from his lips. 

“Ask her out?” He asked with disbelief, “We’re just friends, I could never be into Y/N like that. Never.” 

Jack felt his own eyes widen at Quinn’s words, coughing awkwardly as his gaze fell behind the brother’s right shoulder. Quinn’s brows formed a deep ‘v’ as he turned around. He swallowed thickly, suddenly feeling his mouth run dry. His throat felt as if it was closing, a gate to the words that wanted to chase after you. He watched the way your eyes filled with an unknown emotion, your shoulders slumping as you made a b-line past him. Quinn’s body was screaming and fighting against his skin to run after you, yet he stayed put. He sat firmly in that chair and watched you run out of that god-forsaken bar. 

He felt as if he was watching his heart rip from his chest and walk away. And in some ways, he was.

-

You felt stupid. 

Stupid for letting yourself feel things for him, stupid for getting close to him, but most of all, for thinking you actually had a chance.

You had been excited to go to the bar that night, having gotten the invitation from Quinn that morning. Admittedly, a sparkle of hope glimmered in your chest every time he invited you somewhere. What started as a casual outing between friends, developed into something far more. His hand would often find home on the small of your back, guiding you and keeping you close if it was crowded. Always taking the liberty of ordering your drinks and food because he somehow managed to remember them all. Beyond all of that, he cared for you. He put in the effort to hang out with you, to check up on you, something that many others lacked in doing. However, all of this seemed pointless now. Empty promises and misread signals now resided where the longing and hoping used to live. 

You could feel your resolve break the second you heard Quinn say those words to Jack. Embarrassment consumed you, and an uncomfortable burning painted your skin red. You felt your heart fall to your ass the second he turned back to look at you.

The worst part? He didn’t even care. 

Quinn made no moves to check up on you later that night after you’d found a ride home, nor did he the following day. Two days eventually turned into a week, and you’d officially gone without speaking to Quinn longer than before the two of you had met. Your heart ached every time your phone lit up, hoping his name would appear under your notifications. You grew tired of waiting, tired of the itch that seemed to cover your fingertips every time you hovered over his contact. 

After the seventh night, your girlfriends decided you needed to quit sulking and go out. And, as if scripted, the familiar knocks at your apartment door announced their arrival. You opened the heavy door, as your two closest friends barged their way in, practically pushing you over. The searing squeak of the metal hinges were begging for help as the door heaved open so quickly. You smiled as they ran to your kitchen, grabbing the tequila bottle, which just so happened to already be on the counter and a few shot glasses. 

“Get your ass over here, y/n/n, we are pregaming this shit.” Demanded Willa, one of your close work friends. She had been there the night everything went down at the bar and didn’t hesitate to get you the hell outta dodge the second she saw tears welling up in your eyes. 

“Do we have to?” You droned, “I want to at least be able to walk to the bar without falling over, Wills.” 

She just rolled her eyes, swatting her hand through the air as if it were your words, “Just one, pretty please?” Her wide brown orbs were rimmed with amusement, clearly getting a kick out of your hesitance. Unfortunately for you, the shit-talking brunette also knew that you were very easily peer-pressured, at least when it came to her. 

“Aren’t you gonna try to convince me to drink too?” You questioned the ginger sitting to the right of Willa. 

Duke just grinned, her freckled cheeks rising to meet her sapphire eyes, “Don’t need to, Will’s already got you covered.” 

You sucked in a harsh breath, giving in to the liquid temptation sitting on the cool granite countertop, “Fine,” You waltz over, snatching the shot glass out of Willa’s hand, “Bottom’s up, bitches.” You guzzle down the shot, the burn almost mute at this point. The situation with Quinn, paired with the off week the Canuck’s had, it was horrible timing for you. But proved to be great timing for the local liquor store. 

Managing to take another shot, you all quickly go to your room to finish the final touchups for your nightly escapades. Duke hooked her phone to the speaker, playing the shared playlist the three of you had, specifically for nights like these. You could feel the tension from the past week melt from your body as you jumped around with your two best friends. 

After the first few songs, you settled down into a comfortable chatter, talking about nonsense as you curled your hair on the ground by your floor-length mirror. Willa sat on the bed, legs crossed as she did her eyeshadow in the camera of her phone and Duke somehow wriggled her way onto your dresser, feet dangling as she sat back against the tan walls. She had never been one to overly dress for clubbing, but her style suited her. 

“...and then he told me that I had a pretty voice,” Willa giggled as she rambled about her newest boy toy. As much as you loved the girl, there was no denying that she got around, but you’d never judge her for that. In all honesty, it was almost refreshing to hear about her many rendezvous, giving you insight into a life you could never live. Not that you wanted to, the thought of jumping from guy to guy made your skin crawl and dread fill your throat. You were more of a one-stop-shop kind of girl. 

“Which one is this again?” Duke’s voice slurred slightly, a tell-tale sign she was already tipsy. 

Willa rolled her eyes, “Duke, have you not been listening this whole time?” 

Duke slumped over to her side, “Sorry,” She snarked, “I’m sure this guy is fantastic and will be the one to get you to walk down the aisle.” 

The brunette scrunched her nose up in disgust, “Ew, not a chance.” 

You just laughed at their banter, finally curling the last few pieces of your hair. Duke turned her attention to you, eyeing you up suspiciously. “You seem rather quiet, y/n/n. Is everything okay?” At her words, Willa looks up from her phone, brows furrowing as she waits for your answer. 

You manage a nod and a half-assed smile that wouldn’t fool them from a mile away, “Yeah, I’m all good. Don’t worry about me.” 

Duke gave you her “don’t lie to me” look, which almost had you spouting yout guts out to them about Quinn, but Willa managed to beat you to the punch.

“Is it Quinn?” She asked, voice uncharacteristically serious. 

You just sighed, giving them the answer they needed. Willa moved off the bed, sinking onto the floor beside you, “Look, I know we are normally supposed to gang up on the guys that hurt us, but coming from someone who watches the two of you interact on a daily basis,” She paused, thinking of the right words, “I think you should text him.” 

Your eyes widened at her statement. Usually, Willa was very anti-man, in the sense that she would smite anyone who looked at you wrong, so hearing her tell you to reach out to him was shocking, to say the least. 

“Why would I do that? You heard what he said about me at the bar. He made it very clear he would never have feelings for me.” 

“All I’m saying is, you never even gave the guy a chance to explain himself, that’s all.” Willa’s voice was resolute. You just nodded, taking her words into consideration. Maybe you’d text him, but not tonight. Tonight was your time to let loose, to have fun. The calm before the storm that surely awaited the second you clicked the call button under Quinn’s name.

-

Getting out of the Uber, Duke grabbed your and Willa’s hands, leading you to the front of the line. 

“Duke? The line starts back there,” Willa said, pointing back to the line that wrapped around the brick exterior of the bar. 

With no reply, Willa just huffed and continued to let Duke lead the way. The redhead turned sharply on her heel, “Stay right here a second, I’ll be right back.” 

“Du-” You cut yourself off. She was gone before you even had the time to call out her name. You looked around, leaning up against the wall. You let your head fall back, blowing out a deep breath into the night air. Despite it being warm outside, your skin erupted in goosebumps, no doubt due to your outfit, which didn't serve as much insulation. Willa groaned, slumping back next to you. She took this moment to bring up the one guy you were trying to avoid thinking about for the night. 

“Do you wanna know why I think you should text him?”

“Depends,” You snapped, “Are you gonna give me an actual answer?”

She nodded, not at all phased by your attitude. Having worked with you for 6 years, she had gotten used to the front you put up when you were frustrated. 

“I think you should text him because I think he was lying.” 

Your eyes snapped to her, and you shook your head in confusion, “Why would he have any reason to lie?” 

Willa shrugged her deep-brown shoulders, “Because I can see the way he looks at you. Y/N if you actually paid attention to the way he treats you, you’d understand where I’m coming from. That boy doesn’t just see you as a friend.” 

Your body tenses, scared to ignite that flame of hope again, “That still doesn’t explain why he would have lied about it and made it seem that dating me was a fate worse than death. You didn’t hear him, Wills,” Your voice dropped, “He was being serious.” 

She turned her body to face you completely, her arm now fully rested against the copper-toned brick, “Maybe not, but you didn’t see his face when you ran out of there. He looked like someone just killed his dog.” 

You huffed, annoyed at the whole ordeal, “Then why didn’t he just come and tell me himself?” Your teeth bared down, sending an almost painful tick through your jaw. 

“Now that, I don’t know. I just said he wasn’t being honest, not that he wasn’t a coward.” 

You couldn’t help the puff of amusement that escaped your nose, Willa now sounding more like her usual ball-busting self. Just as you began to grow impatient, Duke emerged through a side door, ushering you two inside the building. 

“What the hell, D?” You asked, very concerned and slightly worried about the fact that you were sneaking into a very infamous bar in downtown Vancouver. She just rolled her eyes and continued down the long hall until you reached the end. A dark metal door with a keypad served as the only barrier between you and the dance floor just beyond. Duke quickly typed in a code, the door making a dull ‘click’ signifying that it was unlocked. 

Before the three of you made into the main floor, Willa grabbed Duke’s arm, “What the actual fuck is going on?” 

Duke laughed at your faces, her husky voice echoing through the, otherwise, empty hallway, “Remember how I mentioned I was seeing someone new?” You and Willa nodded simultaneously, “Well, he happens to own this place and gave me the code for whenever I wanted to bring some friends.” 

You felt all your worry ease from your bones, no longer nervous about getting kicked out, “You know you could have just told us that.”

Duke chuckled as she opened the door for you all to walk in, “I know, but where is the fun in that?” 

Walking into the crowded room, you could already feel the smile forming on your face. Maybe your friends were right about getting out of the house. The DJ on the big stand played some early 2000’s songs and you fought the urge to scream along. You laughed as Willa immediately dragged you to the floor, Duke running off to find her mystery man. You threw your hands up, swaying your hips to the beat of the music. It was intoxicating, being able to let loose and not feel the pressure of everyday weighing down on your shoulders. For once in the past week, you could confidently say, you weren’t thinking about Quinn Hughes. 

After an hour or so, you and Willa managed to push your way through the crowd, desperately needing a drink to soothe your sore throats after all of the screaming and singing. On your way to the bar, a large frame steps in between you and Willa, her body quickly blending in with the sea of people around you. You look up to the man who all but blocked you, noting the devious glint in his eyes. His light hair was cut short, not complimenting his crooked nose or the way his lips turned up. There was something about this man that made your hair stand straight and your gut clench. 

“I saw you dancing with your friend, you looked really good out there.” His rough voice almost made you cringe. You looked over his shoulder, eagerly trying the find Willa or Duke. 

“Uh, thanks,” Your hands picked at the fabric of your dress, nerves now on edge. 

“Wanna show me some more moves?” He bent down next to your ear, “Maybe something a little more personal?” 

His words shot panic through your body, a shiver of fear running up your spine, “I’m actually trying to find my friends right now,” You say curtly, hoping he’d catch on and leave you be. “So if you’ll just excu-” However, he proved to be more stubborn. The man quickly grabbed your wrist, stopping you from going anywhere. Your eyes widened in terror, breath picking up as you rapidly searched for someone to help you. As you tried to pry your arm from his grip, the man let out a sound that was borderline animalistic. 

“You’re not going anywhere, sweet cheeks.” He smiled wickedly at you, his perfect teeth almost sickeningly white. The nickname made bile rise in your throat, stopping any screams or pleased for help from coming out. Seeing a nearby table with empty glasses, you quickly reach to snatch one, not missing to smash the bottle down onto the man’s head. His hand loosened around your wrist and you took the opportunity to tear away from his grip. 

“You little bitch!” He snarled, starting after your retreating form. 

You turn back, noticing the man growing closer on your heels, you try your best to escape him but he grabs your shoulders roughly. As he swivels you around and you reach a hand up to scratch down at his face, aiming for anything to get you the hell away from him. Tears shook through your ribs as a fist came hurling at you. Blinded by the anxious sobs, your head flew back at the impact of the punch. Everything around you went blurry, sounds mixing. A high-pitched ringing echoed through your head, all of your senses seemingly disappearing. At first, you don’t register what happened, but the searing pain on the left side of your face has your mind crashing back into reality. Fresh tears well in your eyes as you stumble away, the man having appeared to run off. 

You manage to get to the bar top, Willa sprinting over the second she notices your bruised and bloody face. 

“What the fuck happened?” She thundered, anger plastered all over her delicate features. 

You couldn’t answer over the deep sobs that racked through your entire body, the pain in your face growing worse by the second. 

“Shh, shh, it’s okay. We’re gonna get out of here,” She soothed as she pulled you into her body. She quickly took her phone out, presumably to call someone, but you were too focused on getting the hell out to notice. Once you got out of the building, Willa guided you to sit on a nearby curb, letting you lean onto her body as you stared blankly into the black asphalt of the road. You somehow managed a breif recap of what happened, Willa beyond furious, her brown eyes dark with anger. You were so caught up in your head, that every echo or screech sent your muscles tightening and body flinching in response. You whined at any subtle movement in your face, the pain had you hoping to the universe nothing was broken. 

“I called Duke to let her know what happened, she said she’s gonna have her boyfriend look through the cameras to see if they caught anything.” You could only break out a weak nod, not wanting to aggravate your injury any more than it already was, “I also called Quinn.” 

Your head shot up, but only earned a deep whimper out of you as the pain shot through your face and down your neck. Willa just gently guided your head back down to her shoulder, running a hand through your hair.

“FIghting or not, Quinn is still one of your best friends. Are you seriously gonna tell me you don’t want him here?” 

If you had the energy to argue, would you? Probably not. Willa always managed to see right into you, and blame it on the injury, but you wanted nothing more than to feel Quinn’s arms wrapped around your body. You remained in that positon until you heard heavy footsteps hurrying towards you. Picking up your head, you couldn’t fight off the rush of relief you felt when Quinn came up beside you. 

“Who did this to you, baby?” He rasped breathlessly. The boy inspected your face closely, not even noticing the nickname rolling off of his tongue and maybe if you weren’t so uncomfortable, you would have acknowledged it. 

You shrug, swallowing the fresh batch of tear that threatened to fall, “Some random guy,” Your voice cracked, laced with emotion and pain, “I was just trying to get a drink.” 

Quinn pulled your body into his, making sure to be careful with your head and face, “Oh, baby,” He cooed, trying his best to keep his voice soft through the anger that coursed in his veins. He stroked your hair soothingly, letting you grip tightly onto his hoodie, “It’s okay, pretty girl. I’m here now, no ones gonna touch you.” Quinn’s words grew sharp with venom at the end of his sentence. He couldn’t describe the feeling he got when Willa had called him. All he knew was he needed to get to you, and he needed to get to you fast. Did Elias give him a weird look for bursting out of the room at record speed? Yes, but Quinn didn’t give a fuck, not when you were hurting. He would gladly burn down the city if it meant protecting you from the vile monsters like the man who put his hands on you. However, Quinn knew that wasn’t possible, so he settled for what he could do, and that was keep you close to him for as long as he could.

You’re not sure how long the both of you stood there, but the night began to grow colder and a chill ran up your neck. 

“You cold, pretty girl?” His voice asked softly, placing a kiss on your forehead. You nodded, not quite ready to try and speak again. “Okay, come on, I’ll take you home.” 

Bidding quick goodbyes to your friends, you let the comfort of Quinn’s body and hands guide you to his car. Luckily he hadn’t parked very far. In all honesty, he hadn’t really parked at all, far too busy rushing to get you. He helped you in, turning on the heat to the exact temperature you would always pick when in his car. The engine hummed to life as he gripped the steering wheel in one hand and intertwined your fingers with the other. 

The ride back to your apartment was silent, but the unspoken words hung heavy in the air. Neither of you spoke until he walked you up to your place, helping you inside and locking your doors. The both of you stood awkwardly, not knowing how to address the tension. Biting back the pain, you decide to break the ice.

“Why did you say it?”

Quinn let out a shaky breath, “I don’t know.”

“That’s not good enough, Quinn.” You quipped, shaking your head in annoyance. 

“I-I don’t know why I said it,” He replied desperately, “I guess I’m a coward,”

You scoffed.

“But what I do know,” Quinn looked deep into your eyes, “Is that I didn’t mean it.” He grabbed your hands, his warm palms encasing the bitter cold that nipped at your fingertips, “Jack caught me off guard and I didn’t want to admit to myself that I’m in love with my best friend.” 

Your eyes widened at his confession, but before you could speak, Quinn continued, “So here I am, because I don’t want to be a coward anymore and I can’t live without at least telling you how I feel. Because even if there is a sliver of a chance you might love me back, then I have to take it.” 

You were speechless. For the first time in your life, Quinn Hughes had left you speechless. When he got no response, he nodded glumly, taking that as his que to leave. Your mouth gaped as you screamed at your mind to say something, anything. Whatever it took to stop your boy from leaving for good. 

“I love you too,” You squeaked. 

He stopped in his tracks, body turing back to face you, “You what?” He whispered, not believing his own ears. 

This time, your voice came back full force and even the pain in your cheeks wasn’t gonna stop you from saying those five words, “I love you, Quinn Hughes.” 

It took three stride for Quinn to make it back in front of you, his hand gently cupped your non-injured cheek, eyes darting down to your lips. 

“Can I kiss you?” Quinn’s voice was timid, as if he was scared you’d break if he talked normally. 

The only answer you gave was colliding your lips with his. The kiss wasn’t exploding fireworks, but rather a ‘welcome home’. The taste of morning dew and the comfort of a freshly made bed. He tasted like the honey you’d put in your tea and felt like the warmest fire on a winter’s day.

Quinn Hughes was a man of many talents, a man of many things, but home was definitely number one.