#Like. Everything all on Pa's shoulders
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nomsfaultau · 6 days ago
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wait y'all is it too obvious that Little House on the Prairie inspired The Lambs Wolves Wear?
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my-castles-crumbling · 3 months ago
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meet - Jegulus - November 20th - @stag-microfic - word count: 332
"Dad?"
James looked up from his book to see his sixteen-year old son standing awkwardly in the doorway, looking like he wanted to be anywhere but there. "What's up, Haz?" he asked gently, placing the hardcover down on the table and patting the empty space on the couch.
Harry sat down gingerly and frowned, green eyes troubled. "Don't laugh, alright?"
"Of course," James nodded, frowning. "What is it?"
"Remember when you used to read me stories, when I was little? About people who would go out and meet 'the one' and fall in love at first sight, and everything ended happily ever after?" Harry asked, still looking uncomfortable.
James nodded, not understanding. "Yes...why?"
"What if it's...not like that?" Harry mumbled, looking down at his hands and shifting awkwardly. "Does that mean it's not right?"
Dawning comprehension flooded through James and he tried to answer without seeming too eager. He didn't want to embarrass Harry, after all. "Prongslet, those were stories. You know that your Pa and I didn't fall in love at first sight, right? I mean...he bloody hated me!"
Harry chuckled at that and met his eyes for a moment before again frowning. "But you were an obnoxious arse," he pointed out.
"I was," James nodded, suppressing a laugh.
"And I was a stuck-up twat."
Both Harry and James turned to see Regulus in the doorway, a smile on his face. The shorter man joined the two on the couch and spoke again.
"Harry, love isn't like the stories. It doesn't always fall into place. But if you both want it and work at it, then it's usually worth it," Regulus said, looking over Harry's shoulder to give James a small smile.
Harry nodded and sighed. "Alright. Thanks."
James couldn't resist. "Is he a Slytherin, then?" He asked knowingly.
Green eyes shot up to meet his, a shocked look on his son's face. "How'd you know?" Harry demanded.
It was Regulus who burst out laughing. "Like father, like son," he chortled.
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paddockletters · 4 months ago
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tiny bubbles | charles leclerc
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pairing: charles leclerc x reader
summary: Charles and Y/N give their newborn her first bath, leading to sweet and funny moments .
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“Okay, we’ve got this. We’ve totally got this” I muttered, pacing nervously around the bathroom.
Charles stood beside me, holding our tiny, week-old daughter in his arms, her little fists clenched and face scrunched up like she already knew something was about to go wrong. Despite all the parenting classes we’d taken, nothing really prepared you for the real deal.
“We’ve watched the videos” Charles said, glancing nervously at me as we both stared at the small baby tub in front of us like it was some kind of complex machine. “We passed the parenting course… we’re basically experts, right?”
“Right” I agreed, though my voice was far less confident than I wanted it to be. “How hard could it be? People have been bathing babies forever.”
Charles carefully lowered our daughter toward the water, and I hovered over him, watching every tiny movement. We were both on edge—her little legs kicking slightly as her toes brushed the warm water.
“Is the temperature okay? You checked it, right?” he finally said, testing the water one more time with his elbow. “It’s not too hot, right?”
“I checked it five times, Charles. It’s fine” I reassured him, though I couldn’t help but dip my hand in the water one more time, just to be sure.
Gently, Charles settled her into the bath, and for a moment, everything seemed to be going perfectly. She looked peaceful, her tiny body just floating, and we both let out a collective sigh of relief.
“Are you ready, bébé?” he asked softly, glancing down at her, though it was more like he was asking himself that question.
“Charles, she can’t answer yet” I teased, crossing my arms as I leaned against the counter, enjoying watching him take charge. “But if she could, I’m sure she’d tell you to just go for it.”
“I’m being cautious.” He shot me a mock glare.
“You’re being a dad” I corrected, smiling as he finally eased her into the warm water. Her tiny body floated just enough, and for a second, everything seemed like it was going to go perfectly smooth.
Charles sighed, visibly relaxing as she cooed softly, clearly enjoying the water.
“I think we’re nailing this” he said, sounding like he was already patting himself on the back.
“She likes it” Charles said, beaming as he knelt beside the tub. “We’re doing great.”
I smiled, feeling the tension in my shoulders start to ease.
“See? We’re not complete disasters.”
Just as I reached for the washcloth, our daughter let out a sudden, loud wail, her face scrunching up in protest. Both Charles and I jumped at the sound.
“Oh no, oh no, what’s wrong?!” I panicked, leaning over the tub.
“I don’t know! Maybe she’s cold?” Charles suggested, his eyes wide.
“Quick! Warm water, more water!” I grabbed the small cup nearby, splashing some water over her, but it didn’t seem to help. Her cries only grew louder, echoing in the small bathroom.
“I thought babies liked baths!” I said over the noise.
“Maybe she changed her mind?” Charles replied, a nervous laugh escaping him as he tried to soothe her by gently splashing water with his hand.
At that moment, a tiny fountain of water shot up, and we both froze. I blinked, realizing what had just happened.
“Did she just—?”
“She did” Charles confirmed, his eyes wide in disbelief, as we both stared at the small arc of water.
“She peed on you” I managed, biting back a laugh as Charles just looked at me with a mixture of shock and amusement.
“She’s back to being our calm little angel.” I said, brushing my hand over her tiny foot.
“Well, at least now we know she’s hydrated” he said, his voice laced with sarcasm.
I couldn’t help it. I burst out laughing. Charles joined in, shaking his head as he wiped his arm with the towel.
“So much for being ‘experts’.”
The bathroom was filled with nothing but the sound of our laughter and her quiet little gurgles.
“You think this is funny, huh? Giving your papa a hard time already.” Charles leaned in, looking down at her with a grin.
I watched as he carefully scooped her out of the tub, holding her close to his chest, wrapped in the soft, fluffy towel. She looked so tiny in his arms, her eyes blinking up at him with curiosity, as if she hadn’t just caused utter chaos a few seconds ago.
It's real what people say, it's beautiful to see the love of your life become a dad.
“I don’t think she likes me very much right now.” Charles sighed, shaking his head with a grin.
“Nonsense” I said, leaning over to kiss his cheek.
“I think she’s mocking us” I said, smiling as I stood next to him, leaning my head against his shoulder.
Charles chuckled, rocking her gently in his arms. “She’s going to be trouble, I can tell.”
“Definitely” I agreed. "She’s just keeping you on your toes.”
We stood there for a moment, just watching her, marveling at how something so small could bring so much joy—and so much unpredictability—into our lives.
“She’s going to keep us on our toes for the rest of our lives, isn’t she?” Charles asked, looking down at our daughter with a mix of awe and amusement.
“Definitely” I agreed, gently drying off her tiny toes as she yawned, clearly exhausted from all the excitement.
Charles smiled softly, holding her close as he rocked her in his arms. “I can’t wait.”
“Well” Charles said after a beat, his voice softening as he looked down at her again,
“I guess we survived our first bath.”
“Barely” I joked, but there was pride in my voice. We may not have been perfect, but we were learning—together.
As I reached up to kiss Charles on the cheek, our daughter let out a soft coo, snuggling deeper into his arms.
“Maybe next time, we’ll get through it without any unexpected showers” I teased, and Charles laughed, pressing a kiss to her tiny forehead.
“Next time, we’ll be pros,” he said confidently.
“You sure about that?”I raised an eyebrow.
“No, but we’ll figure it out. One bath at a time.” He gave me a cheeky smile
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bluetimeombre · 6 months ago
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˚ · . Nothing fucks with my baby, ˚ · .
You are Hugh's young controversial girlfriend
[FINALLY! it's here, I have kept you all waiting, I hope I haven't disappointed! I said in the other posts that I wasn't gonna do much smut but I think I went more than even I thought. Got me blushing and kicking my feet. I hope you enjoy, I'm still riding this Hugh train (want to be riding him) who said that?]
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warnings: older man! younger reader! fem!reader. Not proof read. Smut! Penetration, riding, oral (both receiving) praise kink,
Only a bed separated you and Hugh.
"Ok, so we're gonna pick it up from where we left it last time," said the director. "Get ready."
Hugh was in black clad trousers, shirtless, 'sweat' that was really water sprayed. His hair was already messy, perfectly so as if you'd been running your hands through it.
You still had a robe on, your makeup artist touching the highlight to be 'sweat' while Hugh watches every sway of the brush on your cheeks.
The scene was this: Hugh's character seduces yours. Well, there was seduction on both ends, characters or not. It was the first kiss, the first sex scene, the first true intimacy between your two characters. It was hot, heavy, sensual and loving. It was supposed to be all gripping hands and racing pulses, moving bodes and fumbling lips.
But it was the first kiss scene you'd share with Hugh. There'd be plenty more to come, but the director thought it would capture the true emotions of your characters to get it first try.
"Yummy," whispered your makeup artist in your ear as she leant over, slowly un-doing the ties of your robe.
"Play nice," you mutter to her.
"You don't," she winked before parting with your robe, leaving you in your silk nightgown that fell mid-thigh.
Hugh gulped, his eyes raking over you as you smiled. Your nerves were sky high, but Hugh seemed already in character.
He played the groundskeeper in 1930's Britain, best friend of your 'father', playing blackmail and seducing his daughter. You. And boy was it easy for Hugh Jackman to seduce you.
The cast and crew had been great at making the both of you comfortable and you'd all been for dinners, lunch's, cast parties, yoga sessions. They'd done everything to make it comfortable. And it had worked. You and Hugh got on like a house on fire, always around, always laughing. But there were the lingering looks once the laughter died, or the 'goodnights' that lasted longer than appropriate, and the touches, the constant excuse for it.
Maybe it was because you were young, alluring to a man not long divorced from an almost thirty year marriage. Maybe it was because he was everything you ever wanted, but you had a feeling lines were going to be crossed. The pit in your stomach was either dread... or desire.
"Right, all set?" the director asked.
Hugh smiled, patted his thighs and nodded.
You flashed a smile too but wiped your palms down your dress, un-knowingly shuffling it on your chest.
Hugh caught the movement and gulped. He was screwed.
"Action!"
You watched as Hugh, in character, stalked toward you. As scripted, you took a step back, hitting the bedpost but kept his gaze. You were a headstrong character, and you could do that, even if your knees felt weak.
"You er, get dressed for me, pretty girl?" he asked. He slipped his fingers through the strap, fingers caressing your skin.
Your shiver wasn't scripted and as Hugh's eyes flickered to your own, you wondered if he knew that. "You should go."
"Your pa's not home."
"My mother is," you whispered, standing taller on the bed post as if you weren't afraid.
He smirked and dragged the strap down until he could see your bare shoulder. His eyes flickered back up to yours. "Wendy's a nice woman. She doesn't expect much."
A furrow in your brows, as planned. "How dare you-"
Hugh kissed you with such force your head came back to hit the bedpost but his hand was already cupping the back of your head, easing the thump as he pressed you against it.
It wasn't scripted.
His lips were as soft as they looked, mixed with the gruffness of his stubbly beard that dragged over your chin as he dived into you like a man starved of breath. You obeyed his every move, every tilt of his head you followed.
His teeth sunk into your lip and your gasped. His tongue dipped in, meeting yours gently asking for permission.
You grabbed his cheeks, drawing back enough to get a look at him. There was a wild frenzy in his eyes causing them to go darker, but beneath that you saw his concern, his worry that he'd gone to far.
Whether this was acting or not, you didn't care.
You drew him back in, lips smacking as passion pulled both your strings. He groaned as you obeyed him, body flattening against yours.
His hands raked down your shoulders, taking the straps with you as you gasp and shiver. The gown wasn't supposed to come off but at that rate, you didn't care if it slipped a little. Hugh's hands moved down your sides, to your hips, gripping the material and bunching it.
"You," he gasped against your lips.
He met your gaze and you smirked, challenging him. Luckily, it could all work in character.
You had no knickers or anything on. It was all to easy to see the line in the dress if you did.
Hugh groaned and brought your head back to his, tongue wasting no time in sweeping into your mouth, tasting every corner and marking it as your own.
He spun you around until he was against the bed, his knees buckling and falling, you in his lap.
He groaned into your mouth, loud enough for the microphone above you to hear. Your lips paused on his, hands crawling into his hair as you felt it.
He was hard, so incredibly hard.
Hugh's eyes were scrunched shut as you backed away a fraction, his tongue licking at his lips for a taste of you. Your hair was starting to stick to your head from real sweat.
His trousers were pulled over his crotch, highlighting the size of him as your mouth watered and your thighs tightened on him. His gaze was hooded as he watched you in silent awe.
You bit down on your bottom lip as you pressed yourself against him, feeling every ridge through the tiny fabric of your nightgown. God, he couple feel every warmth of you. How much you wanted him.
He pecked your lips and brought your bottom lip out with his teeth. From the cameras and the lights and the amount of people in the room, the sweat on the two of you started to be real, mixed with your pants and soft moans that weren't necessary for the scene but needed to pass between the two of you.
Your fingers dug into the back of his shoulders as your rocked yourself onto him, grinding onto his clothed crotch to feel something.
Hugh kept one hand on the back of your neck, occasionally drifting into your hair and tugging with every rock of your hips.
You wondered if the director would ever call cut and you hoped he never would. If it all ended here. Your only consoling thought was the amount of intimacy scene's you and Hugh would have to share together.
He grabbed you and rolled you over as planned until you were flat, chest heaving with breaths and he was kneeling over you. His hands went to his belt, twiddling to undo it.
In a frenzy of passion, your hands reached out to help, grazing his bulge. He watched you as he finally un did the belt and your nails scraped down his thighs.
Hugh loomed over you, grinding down into your cunt until he could feel how wet you were, his lips coming to your shoulder. He didn't have to bite, but he seemed satisfied with it.
"Cut!" called the director.
Your hands halted where they were in his hair and Hugh fell against you, caging you to the bed as you both panted.
"Well done, guys, that was great, you got it over and done with. Now for the rest of them, but that'll come gradual," said the director as both Hugh's and your team came to the bed.
Still, neither of you moved.
"Gradual, yeah," you panted, your hands still stroking back Hugh's hair until you realised what you were doing.
Hugh kissed your shoulder once before rolling from you and taking the robe offered to him. You took things slower, knees weak at just the memory of him.
You took the robe and wrapped yourself up.
Hugh glanced back at you, not once, twice.
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You’d thought about it all day. Even as you half-heartedly did the rest of the scenes for the day. Your head was only half on set, the other half focused on the feel of Hugh under you.
In your trailer that night you played your music, gripping your hair in one hand and riding your hand with the other, trying to re-make the magic of feeling him under you.
God, how wrong it was. He was your costar. Old enough to be your father and your celebrity crush for god knows how long. You couldn’t be with him even if you wanted to, he’d probably leave the project if he knew how you’d watched every semi pornographic scene with him in it just to get yourself off.
The knock on your trailer altered you.
Quickly you pushed yourself from bed and wiped your fingers on your shorts, rushing to answer the door.
Hugh’s hands were braced on either side of your trailer door, panting as if he’d ran a matharon before turning up at your step.
“Hugh,” you smiled, desperate to act casual. “What’s up?”
He sighed, staring at you dreamily. He didn’t wait for an invite in. “I thought we could practice, some more.”
You looked up at him. You must have looked a mess, flushed cheeks and devilish hair, but he didn’t look much better. He was in a casual top, black sweatpants low on his v-line.
Daring to peak, you could see the indent. He was still hard.
Your thighs clenched in together from the overwhelming heat. “Yeah, of course.”
You sat next to Hugh on the sofa where you’d left your last script. Your thigh against his, his finger grazing your knee.
You cleared your throat, trying to read when all you could do was bask in every little touch from him.
“I can’t stop thinking about you,” said Hugh. His eyes were on you, script forgotten.
Glancing from him to the script, you flicked a page. “I don’t- where does it say-”
With a rough hand, he tilted your jaw to him until your lips were a hairs breath away. His tongue flicked out, darting over your lips, begging. “Honey, I can’t stop thinking about you.”
You gulped, mouth opening for breath or for him, you couldn’t tell which was more important. A hand crept up to cradle the back of his head. “I can’t tell if we’re practicing or not, Hugh.”
His head rested against yours as he moved it side to side. “Whatever gets you to fall in love with me.”
His eyes met yours.
“As if you even have to try.”
Your lips were soft and mouth wide as you received him, tongue gracing his mouth as he grabbed your hips to pull you on top of him, the script crinkling between the two of you. Your hands were in his hair, grown longer for the part, then raking down his neck then over his shirt until you were gripping it in your hands, pulling him closer to you while you lost air.
Hugh pulled back enough to kiss your jaw, biting at the skin.
“Is this-“ you gasped, holding onto his shoulders. Your thoughts weren’t working, nothing was. All you could think was him, his hands on your hips.
Hugh's lips reluctantly dragged away from your skin, as if he'd die to be parted. "Is it what baby?" when he saw your concern, his desire dimmed. All he wanted was for you to be alright. "Tell me," he brushed back your hair, thumb pulling down your bottom lip, after all, he still needed you like you might die tomorrow.
You sat back on his lap, trying to distract yourself from the dampness in your pants. "Is this real?"
"Doesn't it feel real to you?" he laughed, rocking himself into you.
"Is this Hugh?" you whispered, "or just your character."
His eyes softened. Hugh cradled your cheeks, holding you to look at him. "This is me and you, honey. I-I know this all seems sudden, and we can stop if you want-"
"I'm not saying that," you quickly cut him off as he chuckles, pressing a kiss to your neck. You wanted him, even if it meant heartbreak for you later.
He pulled back and looked up at you. "This is me wanting you. As y/n. As whatever you will give me. As my love, as my baby. As- as everything i've been thinking about for months. As everything I've been waiting for, baby," his thumb smoothed over your cheekbones as you nuzzled into his palms. "If i've made you feel like i'm using you i'm sorry, i'm so sorry, but this is real to me."
You glance up at him. Your lips press a kiss into his palm as you hold his hand to you. "Good," you mutter. You adjust yourself, settling down on his lap again until his clothed erection is begging for your wetness. "Because this is real to me too."
Hugh growled and kissed you, all tongue and teeth as he sort to get every piece of you in one. His arms, strong and large, wrapped around your back and held you into him until even when you pulled away to breathe, your breath was full of him.
With his strength, he pushed you down on your sofa, throwing the script behind him and pulling your legs until they were thrown on either side of his hips. He was lucky you were still in costume, your dress riding up to reveal your white panties, with a damp spot.
Hugh lied down, looking at your pussy as his one hand held down your hips, the other crawling up your chest to squeeze your breasts. "This real? This all for me, honey?"
"Yes," you gasp, running your hands through his hair as his salt and pepper beard scraped your thighs.
"You want me?"
"Yes, Hugh."
"How badly?"
"So, so badly," you whisper, eyes shut as his breath fans where you need him most. "Please baby, please."
He kissed over your panties. "So polite, honey. So good for me." He licked a stripe up, letting his tongue swirl over your clit.
Your back arches. As he repeated the motion before hooking his fingers through the band and slowly- agonisingly slowly- pulling down your panties and the scrunching them up in his hand.
He moaned at the sight of you dripping before him. How he had you panting by the smallest touches. You were his to touch. To ruin. To taint with him and only him. "Thought about this cunt of yours more than should be allowed."
You chuckle, propping yourself up to indulge in the sinful image of him between your thighs. "Yeah? Thought about it too."
"Tell me," he said. His eyes were on yours as he peppered kisses on the inside of your thighs, fingers indented into your flesh.
You moan, eyes fluttering shut. You think of every crude images you'd conjured in your mind. Him suffocating between your thighs, you sitting on his face, riding that perfect arched nose. Your mouth stuffed with his cock as he eats you out. Riding him. Up against a wall. Every filthy thing, you wanted to do with him. "Thought about your tongue, your cock, fingers, nose."
He laughed, glancing up at you. "My nose, huh?"
You chuckle with him, falling back and throwing your arms over your face. The laughter catches in your throat when you feel his tongue dive into your folds, the warmth spreading. You moan, legs going to close if it weren't for Hugh tapping them.
"Keep them open baby," his voice was rough in demand as he focused on you. On tasting you, on spreading your folds with his fingers- sliding them in and out to get a feel, as he shoved his tongue in depths you didn't know he could.
You bite down on the back of your hand, but your cry is barley muffled. "Fuck, baby."
Hugh eats you like he's starved man. He moans into your cunt, sending vibrations through your body that he receive gladly. It goes through him like you're one person. He finds himself grinding down on the sofa like a teenage boy. That's what you're doing to him, making him focus on you and not cumming before stuffing you with him.
"Hugh, I'm-" you mutter all too quickly.
"God, can't wait to taste you cum on my tongue, honey," he said. "You want my nose huh?" He stuffs his face into your pussy, tongue flicking up and down your folds as he nudges his nose on your clit repeatedly until he has your thighs shaking.
"Hugh!" you moan, holding onto his shoulder to stabilise yourself.
Hugh slides his fingers into you, using your wetness to his advantage as he continues to work you with his tongue. He slobbers, spitting down your folds and fingers as he works it into you, groaning at the sight. "Can't wait to feel this around me. God, I wanted you on my cock so bad, with the camera's watching, with the crew. Want them all to know an old man like me can have you falling in love."
"Always," you gasp, focusing on the warmth in your stomach and Hugh's fingers curling inside of you. "Want you to take me. Use me. Have me."
Hugh flattens himself against your sofa, groaning, eyes rolling in the back of his head like it's your mouth warm against is cock. He grips your hand that was on his shoulder and holds it until his fingers bleach white from the grip. He rests it on your sternum, looking up at you.
Wisps of your hair stick to your forehead, your chest spilling out the dress and rising and falling as your body trembles. You hold his hand just as tight, if not, tighter.
"Cum on my lips baby, please," he begged. "Want to taste you. Want to make you cum."
It took little more encouragement from you before you came on his tongue, gasping and grasping as you did. Hugh ate it up, licking the mess from your pussy and your lips. It has him quivering and knowing he'll need this taste every day just to keep him sane.
"Hugh?"
He glances back up at you. Your pink cheeks and wide eyes. He grins, licking his lips and wiping your juice from the corner of his lips and licking it from his fingers as he crawls back over you. He nudges his nose against yours and grins at your smile. "That was amazing."
"You're saying it like you just had the best orgasm of your life," you laugh.
His brows rose. "Best orgasm of your life, huh? I can give you plenty more where that came from?"
You smirk, running your hand from his chest to between his legs, rubbing your hand over his dick that trembles at your touch. Satisfaction gnaws at you as you watch his eyes shut and jaw clench.
"Baby, almost had me cumming in my pants like a teenager," he chuckled, shakily.
You tut, sitting up to have better access to his lap. "Can't be having that."
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That's how the rest of the months of filming were spent.
At first, the two of you agreed to take it slow. Little dinner dates, grabbing coffee together and walks in the local parks. Luckily it was known you were filming together and the paps weren't too fussed.
You tried to take it slow, but the sex was anything but.
In the mornings when you were inevitably in the make up chair first thing- as the star of the movie- Hugh would join you, passing you your coffee order and breakfast before taking a seat next to you and chatting away with you and the make-up artists. Even if he wasn't shooting that day, he was there. On the dot. Every day.
Your team of people smirked knowingly even if neither of you confirmed it. But the stolen stares and kind offerings were enough. Surprisingly, nobody warned him about being with one so young and neither you him much older as he was.
Because everyone knew it was true, real love. Because first, it came from friendship.
He helped you with scenes when you asked, helping the emotions play out. Even you gave him new perspectives of looking and taking om scenes. It was refreshing. Life with you was refreshing.
The more intimate scene's became harder, oddly enough. Because you'd get to into it, the director yelling cut several times to tear your bodies from each other. Then, when you were alone at night, you jumped on Hugh, climbing him like a tree.
Sometimes you couldn't wait till night and dragged him into your dressing room, sliding down to your knees and un-doing his belt.
"Eager?" he'd tease.
You wouldn't justify him with an answer. Your hands messaging his balls and tongue licking up his cock until you had him down your throat or stuffed in your cheeks was enough for him.
At the end, you had to stop reading scripts with Hugh as his glasses perched on his nose was too much for you.
Enough times he knew that and would eat you out wearing them. And only them. You'd watch the lenses steam up as he licked and moaned in you until you were cumming over his chin, sometimes landing on his glasses.
"Honey, you're too much," he grinned and kissed you, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.
Dinner nights after long days always ended up with your foot gently trailing up his leg in his dress pants, his hand gripping your ankle as it inched closer to his cock, finger running circles.
Hugh would have to park in the dark and pull you onto his cock, ruining your dazzling dress and tearing the seams of his trousers to have his cock free and nuzzled into you.
One of your breasts was in his mouth as you rode him, his arm wrapped around your waist and helping you move. His cock warm and throbbing inside of you.
"Oh baby," he moaned around your breast, teeth pinching at your nipple. "Grip me like a dream."
His hand gripped your ass, pushing you and pushing you, throwing his head back and groaning out as the car rocked form your hard movements. It didn't matter how many times either of you had each other, it was a constant need never satisfied. You breathed new life into him and he wanted to use it all on you.
"Hugh, I need you!" you whined out even as his cock was deep in you.
But he got it. Because it wasn't enough for him. "I know, baby, I know!" he lurched forward and kissed you as you grabbed his cheek, keeping him there. Your tongues fought as you tried to catch your breath, bouncing on his cock. He growled. You whimpered.
"Fuck me, Hugh," you told him, biting down on his earlobe as you cuddled into him, bouncing on his dick as fast as you could to reach your third high that night.
"Shit, just there- right there!" he held your hips down as his cum spluttered into you, him growling and moaning out your name like prayer. Nobody in the world had been so devoted to something like Hugh was to you.
And the balance was perfect. The next night Hugh would join you in your trailer- where most your times were spent. You were curled into his side as he was shirtless, reading. Those annoyingly attractive glasses still there as he laughed at some parts of the book and you'd ask what it had said and he'd explain it to you while his fingers twirled strands of your hair.
The next day you'd be attached to him all day, lips forming as one as the camera rolled and the director gave you pointers. It was a scene of the two of you in the garden. Both indecent (although of course following Hollywood guidelines) Hugh didn't even let you up from his lap, instead holding you there as you both acted professional and took the director's words. You could fuck him, love him and work with him all you needed.
That night, Hugh would have you on the floor of his trailer, the two of you hardly making it through the door before he had his cock in your mouth, stirring you with his hands in your hair.
"Did so good today, my good girl, working so hard for everyone," he groaned as you chocked around his cock.
You took him deep and took him out, spitting over his cock and working him with your hand. "So big," you mumbled, drunk on having him. You sucked one of his balls into your mouth, devoting attention to both of them.
"Oh, fuck, y/n, you're gonna be the death of me. God, I just know you wanted to ride me with everyone watching, could feel how wet you were."
You take his cum down your throat, licking every last drop before you both fall asleep in his bed to film together the next day.
You both walk on set, laughing, smiling, with coffee in hands and every on set watches and smirks cause they know. Maybe they don't know all the filthy things you get up to, but they can see it's more than just another hollywood controversial talk.
But Hugh is in love with you.
taglist (thank you!): @oatmilkriver, @angstdaddy, @chronicallybubbly, @white-wolf-buckaroo, @th3mrskory, @wolfyychan, @chaimshelii, @wolviesgirl, @haytchee, @aoi-targaryen, @apizzacalledmel, @corvusmorte, @slut4you, @ellak69, (how you're only just on the taglist no idea babe), @wolverigrl
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carnalcrows · 25 days ago
Text
DISCIPLINE - SQUARE GUARD
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pairing: square guard x ftm reader
synopsis: Your superior punishes you for failing at a simple task. What he does however- is far from simple.
content warnings: 18+, trans male reader, clit pinching, fingering, power play, overstimulation, getting caught.
word count: 1.1k
A/N: req
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You trudged through the hallways of the compound, carrying a tray of food, trying to keep your head low. You were a Circle Guard, which meant you had the less glamorous, more grueling tasks. Today, it was the food run, and everything was going smoothly—until it wasn’t.
You took a turn too quickly, your foot catching on the edge of a crate. Time seemed to slow as you watched the tray tip, food spilling across the floor in a cascade of chaos. It hit the ground with a loud crash, attracting the attention of both the players and the nearby guards. Your heart dropped. This was bad.
You froze for a moment, trying to process what just happened, but before you could even react, you heard heavy footsteps. The unmistakable sound of a Square Guard’s boots echoed down the hallway. Your stomach churned as he appeared in front of you, his imposing frame towering over the scene you’d just created.
His gaze locked onto the mess first, then up to you. “Really?” His voice was calm but firm, and the disapproval in it sent a chill through you.
“I—I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—” you stammered, trying to apologize, but your words caught in your throat.
The Square Guard stepped closer, towering over you like a storm cloud about to break. His eyes narrowed as he scanned the mess. “You think this is acceptable?” He was inches away from you now, the intensity of his gaze making you feel small.
Before you could come up with an answer, he reached out and grabbed you by the wrist, pulling you toward the nearby hallway with an almost effortless strength. He wasn’t saying anything, but the silence between you both was deafening.
He tugged you into an empty room down the corridor—no prying eyes, no one to witness your mistake. Once inside, he closed the door with a quiet click, and for a moment, the tension in the air was suffocating. You felt trapped, but not in the way you thought.
"You messed up," he said, his tone low, but there was a dangerous edge to it. "And I don’t tolerate mistakes."
You swallowed, trying to steady your breathing, but all you could do was stand there, nervously fidgeting with your hands. He took a step closer, his tall frame casting a shadow over you. His presence was overwhelming, and you couldn’t look away from him even if you wanted to– before he yanked your mask off your face.
“I—” you started, but he cut you off, stepping into your space and pressing you back against the wall. You could feel the heat radiating off his body, his breath coming fast as he leaned in.
“You want to avoid punishment?” His voice dropped to a whisper, lips brushing your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. "You’re going to learn your place."
Before you could respond, he removed his own mask before his lips crashed into yours with a fierce urgency. It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t romantic. It was demanding, almost desperate. His hands slid up to your waist, pulling you flush against him, as his kiss grew sloppier, more frantic.
Your body tensed for a second, shocked by the suddenness, but then you found yourself responding to the heat, your hands gripping onto his shoulders, trying to find some semblance of control in the chaos. His kiss was insistent, and every time you pulled back for air, he pulled you right back in, almost as if he was punishing you for your earlier mistake with each heated moment.
His lips left yours briefly, but only to trail down your neck, his hands exploring your sides, pushing you harder against the wall. The electricity between you both was palpable, and you couldn’t deny the growing pressure in your chest—the mix of adrenaline, nervousness, and something else you couldn’t quite place.
HIs fingers reached at the hem of your pants– the pink fabric turning red with the darkness of the room. He tugged them down with your boxers almost fiercely, before lifting you up a bit– only to stare at your flushed, dripping cunt.
He paused for a second– before trailing his fingers from your ass to your clit– flicking at the nib. You squeaked– head hitting the wall from surprise.
He didn’t stop– however; he continued his ministrations on your clit, lightly tugging on it and pinching it, while using his other hand to pump in and out of your sopping wet cunt– the squelches filling the tiny room.
Your hands gripped onto his shoulders, feeling your orgasm wash over you like a waterfall– but the other man didn’t stop. If anything, he continued abusing your clit with a fervour, rubbing it even faster than before while adding another finger to your clenching cunt.
To keep you quiet– he crashed his lips onto yours; muffling your sweet noises that he was so desperate to hear– but it was too dangerous now.
You felt your self climax for the second time in about five minutes– your body shuddering as you did so. The other man finally left your cunt alone, slowly pulling his fingers out– but his mouth was still on yours for another minute or so.
He pulled back again, his chest rising and falling as he looked down at you. "I hope you’ve learned your lesson." His voice was rougher now, his eyes dark with intensity. "Don't mess up again."
Before you could answer, the sound of footsteps echoed down the hallway, faint at first but growing louder. You froze, your eyes darting to the door just as it creaked open, and in walked the Frontman.
His cold, calculating gaze swept across the room, landing on you and the Square Guard. He didn’t say anything at first, just stood there watching, his presence alone filling the room with an unnerving stillness. You felt your heart rate spike as the Frontman’s eyes flicked between the two of you, the tension almost tangible.
The Square Guard didn't break eye contact with the Frontman, his expression unreadable as he stood his ground. There was a brief moment of silence as the Frontman simply observed.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the Frontman’s lips curled into the slightest of smirks. "Interesting," he said quietly, as if he was noting the situation in his head.
Without another word, he turned and walked back out of the room, leaving the two of you standing there in stunned silence. You exhaled slowly, the weight of everything crashing down on you.
The Square Guard looked down at you, his smirk returning, though his eyes were still heavy with something dangerous and expectant. "Next time," he murmured softly, "maybe we won’t have to repeat this lesson."
And with that, you realized that your mistake had brought you into a whole new world of complications.
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© carnalcrows on tumblr. Please do not steal my works as I spend time, and I take genuine effort to do them.
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mvrlqni · 1 month ago
Note
in ho protecting fem¡reader when she gets attacked during the fights that break out at night?
꒰ ꒱ — ❝ 𝐈𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐒 ❞
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pairing — hwang in-ho/young-il x reader
synopsis — when screams and people being murdered during the night could be heard, in-ho finds himself staying close, protecting you from other players, especially from one who has constantly been nagging at you.
warnings — blood, violence, murder, swearing, age gap, 20’s reader, 40’s in-ho, spoilers for s2, ooc!in-ho, soft!in-ho, obsessive!in-ho, might have mistakes
wc — 1.5k
AN — made him a tad bit obsessive bc he’s hot
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from the very moment in-ho had laid his eyes on you, he was taken aback. you seemed so delicate, pure, and everything just seemed good about you.
and that was when he promised himself he would look after you.
he would allow himself to get distracted by you, his sole purpose was to find out gi-hun’s plans but he would always manage to find ways to include you. especially in conversations that didn’t even relate to you.
yes, he knew it was unprofessional of him, favouriting a player when the games were supposed to be fair and equal but he can’t help himself when he would mouth off to the guards to give you extra food, he even had them pack you your favourite meal after he found out what it was the night before.
in-ho was becoming obsessed with you and he let it happen.
that night after another voting had been done which ended in a tie, a fight had broken out between the two sides. men came out from the bathroom with blood coating some of their tracksuits and in-ho watched as your eyebrows furrowed, that look you did that had him weak in the knees, making you look as if you were a kicked-aside puppy.
soon both teams were gathered on their own sides, the both of them counting down how many players they have.
“two out of five. that means they lost three people.” a girl informed you all, whilst another—player 380 spoke up.
“then we have a better shot at winning the vote tomorrow.”
“hey, it’s 48 against 47.” jung-bae whispered. “as long as we don’t change our minds, we’ll win by one vote!” he exclaimed and everyone around you agreed quietly.
you glanced towards in-ho, or as you knew as ‘young-il’, and whispered to him, a smile plastered onto your face. “hey, we’ll be going home tomorrow…aren’t you excited?”
young-il snapped out of his gaze and looked back at you. there was silence before he smiled back and nodded. truthfully, in-ho couldn’t imagine letting you go, he would find you either way.
the PA voice spoke up along with the sound of a school-like bell ringing. “attention, please. lights out in 30 minutes. all players, please return to your beds and prepare for bedtime.”
after a few more words with everyone on your side, you all separated from each other. however, as the other group separated too, you could see them staring back at you all as they walked, gi-hun having noticed this as well.
you shivered and felt as your body slowly began feeling uncomfortable, but your hand was soon grabbed by young-il as he offered you a reassuring smile and walked with you.
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before bedtime, you were sitting with your group as usual. “those bastards are acting suspicious. it’s like they’re up to something.” dae-ho began and you quickly nodded in agreement.
“right? they were staring at us the whole time when they walked past, gave me the shivers…” you mumbled as young-il patted your shoulder while jung-bae scoffed.
“whatever those idiots do, once we win the vote tomorrow, it’ll all be over.”
“you think we’ll be okay? they say things were really crazy in the bathroom earlier.”
you looked down and fiddled with your fingers before looking back up to gi-hun when he spoke. “once the lights go out, people on the other side will attack us.”
in-ho watched as you did that face again. his heart thumping in his chest as he did, completely ignoring everyone else as they spoke.
“really?”
gi-hun nodded. “because if they kill us, they’ll be able to win the vote and increase the prize.”
“so what do we do?”
in-ho focused back on the conversation, shifting slightly before voicing his thoughts. “let’s attack them first. they’re probably thinking we’ll just wait for the second vote. we can use it to our advantage. we’ll attack them first once the lights go out.”
“that’s right. it’d be better to attack them first. we have more women and elderly on our side, if we get attacked we’ll be at a disadvantage. attacking them first would give us a better chance of winning.” 049 began with a player agreeing before gi-hun interrupted.
“we can’t do that.”
in-ho feigned confusion and stared at gi-hun. “but we have to get out of here. you said it yourself, saying calm won’t get us anywhere now.”
“that doesn’t mean we should kill each other. that’s exactly what they want us to do.”
furrowing your brows again, you leaned in a bit and looked at gi-hun with that confused look of yours. ““they?””
“those who created this game. those who watch us play. if we’re going to fight someone, it should be them.” he explained.
“where are they?”
gi-hun looked up causing the other players and you to do the same, except for in-ho. “up there.” he looked back at in-ho and continued. “on the upper levels are the rooms they control the games from. the man in the black mask is their leader. once we capture him, we’ll be able to win.”
in-ho pressed on, finally hearing gi-hun’s plans. “how are we going to fight them? they have guns.”
“we’ll fight them with guns too.”
“…um, but we don’t have any, mr gi-hun…”
gi-hun glanced at you and nodded. “we’ll take their guns.”
“from the masked men?”
gi-hun nodded again at the other player as in-ho spoke once again. “that’s too dangerous. even if we manage to take a few guns, we’ll still be outnumbered.”
“what then?” gi-hun retorted looking around at everyone whilst he continued. “are you going to kill each other all night and hope you survive? is that what you want, young-il?”
the two stared each other down before their attention was put onto hyun-ju. “do we…stand a chance?”
“we do if we catch them off guard. out of everyone, they’re the ones who would at least expect us to attack first.” you nodded along and listened. “this is our last chance to end these games once and for all.”
“how are you going to take their guns?”
you couldn’t help but think how serious young-il seemed, almost as if he was interrogating gi-hun.
“once the fight begins tonight, we’ll have our chance.”
“lights out in five minutes.”
a lullaby began playing from the speakers as the timer ticked, counting down the five minutes.
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as soon as the lights turned off, young-il had taken your hand and got you underneath the bed.
screams erupted from your side and you flinched, staying close to young-il while covering your eyes.
it was dark and the screams didn’t help along with the sounds of people getting stabbed, a small whimper left you and young-il gently shushed you.
unbeknownst to both of you, a man who had been constantly harassing you as his way of ‘flirting’ noticed you underneath the bed and had dragged you out.
you screamed as a hand wrapped around your throat and tightened itself, the man in question wielding a broken piece of glass.
young-il’s eyes widened as he immediately got out from underneath the bed. “y/n!” he called out, a snarl leaving his lips as he caught sight of the man.
he punched the man and shoved him away, causing the man to let go of your neck and groan.
you breathed heavily and looked at young-il, watching as he managed to kick the man against the bunk beds.
“you fucking bastard!” the man exclaimed, getting up and charging at young-il with the shard of glass. he only managed to graze young-il with it before being pushed back again, young-il’s grip on the man’s hand was tight as he pushed the glass away from his face and out the players hand.
disarming the player, young-il swiftly bought the man back down, smashing the players head against the bunk bed frames as he did, repeating the same thing.
you looked away as you heard the man’s skull crack, a small groan leaving you before you looked back. “young-il, that’s enough!—”
young-il was completely focused on killing the man, he was already dead by this point but he was fuming with rage seeing the man’s hands wrapped around your neck.
only after a few seconds did young-il stop, dropping the man’s dead body on the ground, blood quickly pouring from the wound. his head was smashed in and the blood covered young-il’s clothes and face.
he breathed heavily before looking back at you, grabbing your hands and bringing you back underneath the bed. “are you alright?” he asked, concern laced in his voice and you nodded.
despite the fact that you’ve just seen this man kill another you couldn’t help but find him more attractive—he did kill the man for you after all…
young-il let out a sigh of relief and you gently caressed his face, a small cut on his cheek from the glass. “your cheek…”
he blushed lightly before letting out a chuckle, grabbing at your hands again. “i’ll be fine, just a small graze, no?”
hesitantly nodding, you stayed close to young-il, his presence almost making you forget that there were people getting murdered just above you.
he kissed your knuckles and wrapped an arm around you. he’ll never let you get hurt and he’ll kill any bastard who even tries to hurt you.
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jobean12-blog · 29 days ago
Text
Make It Last
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader (Mob/Mafia AU)
Word Count: 2.7K
Summary: When the most powerful man in the city wants you, it's hard to say no. Obviously he's hard to resist but considering his significance in the city you can't help but wonder if you're just another piece of arm candy, so if he wants you, he'll just have to wait.
Author's Note: I've been thinking about Mob!Bucky a lot and what it would be like the first time with him. Lovely Sydney @buck-star had sent me a Mob!Bucky thot last week and he's just so yummy! Hope you enjoy, thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the sweet @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰
Warnings: lots of build up and tension to lots of smutty fun. Bucky is dominant but also soft and gives you everything you want. Oral (f rec), p in v (wrap it up but no need here bc it's Mob!Bucky and he's good and already checked you out haha), light praise and overstim, Bucky can't get enough and you don't want him to.
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“It might last longer if he just takes a picture!”
You laugh but you don’t look at your friend even after she makes the joke.
“Why is he even here? Didn’t you tell him you’d be out with the me?” she adds.
At her question you turn to Nat and raise a brow.
“He owns the place. What am I gonna do? Have security remove him for staring too much?”
Nat laughs into her drink but shakes her head. “I guess that won’t work…but it doesn’t bother you at all?”
You give Bucky one more lingering glance then turn your full attention to Nat.
“Under different circumstances it might but it’s sort of my fault that he’s so…worked up.”
“What does that mean?” Nat asks as she leans in closer with a smirk.
You take another sip of your drink. “Well, speaking of pictures…I sent him some while I was getting ready…”
Nat pauses then says, “and? Hasn’t he seen you naked already. You’ve been dating almost a month.”
“We haven’t had sex yet.”
She nearly spits out her drink. “You haven’t fucked that man yet?” She peeks over your shoulder at Bucky, who still has his full attention on you.
“I know,” you sigh. “I can’t believe I’ve lasted this long. But honestly, he’s the most powerful man in the city. He probably has had every woman alive. Why me? I didn’t want to just sleep with him and then…that’s it.”
Nat nods in understanding. “So, you’re making him work for it.”
“Work for it, wait for it…I like him. A lot. And I’m hoping that this shows him I want more than just a good fuck.”
“I bet he’s the best fuck…ever!”
Nat’s words send you into a fit of giggles that dissolve as you feel him approach, the heat at your back followed but a shiver from his whispered words against your ear.
“Enjoying yourself doll face?”
You turn your head, your face so close to his you nearly bump noses.
“I am Bucky, thank you.”
“Good,” he says. “And this is your last drink.”
Your eyes widen at his statement, and you open your mouth to argue but he places a long finger against your lips to silence you.
“I want you completely coherent when I fuck you tonight. I want you to remember everything I do to you.”
With a hard swallow you whisper, “ok,” and your eyes drop to his lips. He kisses you, sweet and soft and way too quickly.
“My car will be outside at eleven.”
He says goodbye to Nat before walking off and disappearing behind one of the doors at the back of the club.
“What was that about?” Nat asks. “You look like you might pass out.”
“I’m going to sleep with him tonight,” you answer, nearly breathless.
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Your eyes roam over his body, his black button-up shirt tucked into black pants. The first two buttons of his shirt are left undone, hinting at the expanse of skin beneath and highlighting the long and muscular line of his neck. The sleeves are rolled up to his elbows and his corded forearms and prominent veins shift as he removes the lustrous watch on his wrist.
You stand and wait, watching him as he slowly stalks closer.
“Do you know how hard it’s been? How hard I’ve been…waiting?”
Your eyes drop to his pants and the clear outline of him pressing along the lush fabric. You reach out, your fingertips just brushing against him and his breath comes out in a sharp exhale.
He wraps his fingers around your wrist and drags you into his chest, pressing you against every inch of him. His lips find yours in a hungry kiss, his hands slowly tracing your curves until they cradle your face.
“Are you finally going to let me have you?” he murmurs against your lips.
Your palms flatten along his chest, and you kiss him softly.
“Yes,” you whisper.
“My favorite word,” he breathes before kissing you again.
His hands move to your back, finding the zipper of your dress and toying with the small piece of metal. You whimper with impatience, and you feel his smile against your mouth before he spins you around, so your back is to him.
Goosebumps break out across your skin as he smooths his fingertips over the curve of your shoulder then drops his hand back to the zipper, slowly pulling it down until the fabric pools at your feet.
He hums in approval, kissing the back of your neck and then the space between your shoulder.
“You’re perfect,” he murmurs, his fingers tracing the lace of your undergarments.
He turns you to face him again and then gently guides you toward the bed, pushing until you sit. He kneels, taking your foot in his hand and sliding off your heel. He repeats the action with your other foot and smooths his palm along your calf with a delicate caress.
“So soft,” he sighs then stands, gazing down at you. “So beautiful.”
He starts to unbutton the rest of his shirt, but you stand to stop him, taking the fabric between your fingers and teasingly undoing the buttons until you can push it off his shoulders.
Your fingertips lightly scrape down his chest, lingering over every scar you find before your lips press to the puckered skin.
His eyes close and he whispers your name.
When your fingers reach his pants, trembling slightly, you pull the zipper down. You reveal his boxers and the noticeable bulge beneath the tight material.
You lick your lips and brush your fingers through the soft hair just above the waistband then dip them inside, sliding your hand along every warm, silky inch of him.
He throbs in response, your thumb tracing the tip and smearing the wetness there. You kiss him all over, not taking him into your mouth yet but teasing with your lips.
“Doll,” he warns and unclenches a fist to stop you. “If you keep that up this will be finished before we even start.”
You let out a soft gasp as he helps you stand and pushes you back onto the bed. His hands skim your thighs, pulling your legs up and placing them on either side of his hips. He hovers over you, staring, the curling wisps of his dark hair falling across his forehead.
When he slides his hand between the mattress and your back, you lift yourself, giving him access to unhook your bra. He makes quick work of it but takes his time as he peels it from your body to reveal your breasts.
He stares again, his cheeks flushed and the muscles in his arms and chest straining. You reach for him, pulling him down for a kiss and pressing your bodies together. His lips trail down your neck, to your collarbone, soft nips at your skin before he continues his descent, lips leaving a trail of heat in their wake.
His tongue teases your nipple then sucks it into his mouth making your back arch in pleasure. He pays the same attention to your other breast, teasing, licking, nibbling, and soothing.
You feel his smile against your skin as he pulls away to kiss down your stomach, keeping one hand on your breast.
His name falls from your parted lips when he presses a kiss between your legs, the thin fabric of your panties doing little to dampen the heat of his breath.
He sits back, gazing down at you, fingers teasing the waistband of lace at your hips.
“Do you want my mouth doll?”
You nod, your hips squirming.
“I want to hear the word.”
“Yes!”
A satisfied look crosses his face as he hooks his thumbs into the soft material and pulls it off, purposefully dragging the tips of his fingers down your thighs and calves.
His kiss is a barely there whisper of his lips to your clit, yet it causes your entire body to quiver. He does it again and again until you’re begging for more.
Finally, his tongue flattens, and he tastes you in a long lick from top to bottom. You cry out, bucking and pushing your hips into his face. He closes his lips around your clit and sucks, applying the perfect amount of pressure to make you tremble.
His hands dig deeper into your thighs, the rings adorning his fingers leaving marks in your skin as your calves come to rest on his shoulders, opening you wider for him. His tongue circles your clit before sweeping lower and dipping inside you. Your fingers grasp his hair, another breathless moan leaving your lips.
After bringing you to the edge he pulls back and lets you catch your breath, but it’s short lived as his finger circles your clit before sliding lower to sink inside you.
“More Bucky,” you breathe.
He pulls his finger out and rubs along your entrance with two, teasing you, before only pushing one back inside.
You bring your hand down toward him, needing more, but he quickly intercepts it. He withdraws his fingers and gathers your wrists together with one hand, bringing both arms stretched out above your head.
“Keep them there,” he orders.
You start to nod but then quickly reply with a breathy, “yes.”
He bends down to kiss you, sucking your bottom lip into his mouth before sinking his teeth into it. He moves back down your body, his tongue working you over, no longer teasing, but with purpose.
It takes everything in you not to let your hands fall to his hair and when he suddenly pushes two fingers inside you, giving you what you asked for, you moan out in pleasure.
His long fingers reach deep inside you, and combined with his attention to your clit, you can feel your release building.
A warm, tingling sensation spreads through your body and your breathing turns ragged as your muscles tense.
He doesn’t stop, working you through your release and prolonging it until you’re a trembling mess beneath him.
You open your eyes to find him watching you with a heated gaze.
“Fuck doll face. I could watch you come undone for me like that every day for the rest of my life.”
His thumb sweeps over your sensitive and swollen clit and your eyes roll back.
“Again,” he murmurs, dipping between your legs before you can respond.
His lips replace his thumb, his fingers resuming their previous pace as he slides his free hand under your lower back to effortlessly lift you and bring you closer.
Everything feels ten times more sensitive now and you fight with the clashing sensations of pulsating pleasure and the soreness of overstimulation.
You feel your release approaching quickly and your eyes squeeze shut but his commanding voice pulls you from your haze.
“No,” he growls. “Open them. Look at me.”
You obey, opening your eyes again, and the sight of him between your spread thighs sends you over the edge.
“Bucky,” you choke out.
“Gorgeous,” he whispers. “But not nearly enough.”
You struggle to sit up, your eyes falling to his cock resting against his abdominals. He smirks and grips himself, pumping his hand slowly up and down his length.
“Do you need a break doll?”
“No,” you tell him, letting your legs fall open.
He settles between them, his lips kissing your neck and the sensitive spot below your ear. He slides his hand down between your bodies and rubs himself against you teasingly.
“What is it?” he asks, pausing at the slight tensing in your body.
“Nothing Bucky.”
“Tell me doll face,” he demands. “I’ll stop if you want me to.”
“No!” you say quickly. “No. It’s not that. You’re just…bigger than what I’m used to.”
He smirks, rolling his hips slowly, not pressing in yet.
“You can take it doll.”
His hand moves to your face, grasping your jaw, keeping you looking up at him.
“Keep your eyes on me.”
“Yes Bucky.”
His other hand grips your waist, holding you steady, and your breath catches in your throat as he begins to press into you, then came out in a low moan as he unhurriedly sinks in, making you feel every throbbing inch of him.
Your eyes flutter closed, but then his fingers dig into your jaw, a silent reminder to keep your eyes open. Your body stretches to accommodate him, the initial burn giving way to sweet friction as you relax.
He continues to move maddeningly slowly, his gaze never leaving yours, the intimacy of the moment making your pulse pick up in a way that has nothing to do with his languid movements.
He lets out a soft exhale as he finally stills, settled fully inside you. Your inner walls flutter around him as you adjust to his size, and he pulls back slightly, only to push back in with more force, drawing another moan out of you.
“See doll. You take me so well,” he praises. “Do you want more?”
“Yes,” you say, your hands wrapped around his biceps, feeling the power in his muscles as he holds himself over you.
He draws back until only the tip remains inside you and then slips back in slowly. You lift your hips with impatience but his hand pushes on your stomach to pin you back down to the bed.
He leans in to kiss you, softly and with sweet, whispered words. The slow roll of his hips builds tightness in your stomach, and he takes your hand in his, pressing it next to your head, entwining your fingers.
You slide your free hand through his hair, dragging your fingers through the soft strands and then down his neck. He closes his eyes, savoring the sensation, his hold on your hand tightening.
“I could come just from this,” he says huskily, lips dropping down to your ear. “Just from the sight of you completely ruined under me.”
His words make you squeeze around him, and he lets out a low, deep rumbling moan into your neck. You jerk your hips up toward him, your legs trying to draw him closer and deeper.
He lets go, pumping his hips faster, fingers digging into your thigh possessively as your body jolts with the force of it.
With a precise and purposeful rhythm, he keeps a relentless pace until your body explodes with every sensation and all you can do is hold onto him and listen to the rough sound that comes deep from his throat.
He pants against your neck, then trails soft kisses along your jaw to your lips, his kiss slow and deep, making you breathless all over again. Your heart beats frantically between you, his own a rapid thump, thump, thump, against his sweaty chest.
With gentleness he pulls out and lays down next to you, throwing his arm over your waist and curling you toward him. You quickly get lost in his cocoon of warmth, sighing, and closing your eyes, but he presses two fingers under your chin, lifting your gaze to his.
“I want to clean you up,” he whispers. “And I want you to stay the night with me.”
Your quiet “yes,” makes him smile proudly and he carefully extracts himself, returning quickly with a warm cloth and delicate hands.
He slides up the bed and pulls you to him, closing the distance and pressing a soft kiss to your cheek, then the corner of your mouth and finally your lips. His hand cradles your face, his thumb swiping over your lips, applying enough pressure to part them.
Then his hand glides along your throat and his fingers close around the back of your neck to angle your head in a way that allows him a deeper kiss.
When he pulls away his nose gently bumps yours and he opens his eyes, ghosting his lips to yours as he whispers, “so perfect for me doll.”
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purplecoffee13 · 9 months ago
Text
Please, Please, Please - pt.1
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Summary: “Harry is utterly fascinated by his new neighbor, Y/N, and takes it upon himself to protect her. But little does Y/N know, that Harry may be the person she is supposed to be running from…”
Wc: 5.6k
Tropes: good girl x bad boy / neighbors
Warnings: mentions of violence, cursing, bit of gaslighting.
A/N: THIS IS A TWO PART ONE SHOT based on this request. Please note that it is based around the MUSIC VIDEO, not necessarily the song itself! I decided to cut it up into two parts, because it was getting awfully long, and I was too eager to share it with you. Next part will be steamy!
General Masterlist
PART 2
You sigh, looking up at your new home. Well— you think. You're not exactly sure which window is yours, but you will figure it out once you're on the right floor. You adjust the duffel bag that is slung over your shoulder, and grab your suitcase before walking towards the entrance.
With your new set of keys which you got from the landlord yesterday, you open the door to the lobby. Or, hallway with post boxes. That would definitely be a more accurate way to describe it.
When you were little and fantasized about moving into a place of your own, you have to admit, you did imagine something a bit less... intimidating. Unfortunately, you had been left with no choice.
Ever since your dad died about five years ago, your mother has been serial dating like there was no tomorrow. You had learned to ignore the different men in your kitchen, eating the cereal and drinking your coffee at 7am, but lately something had changed.
Your mother had stuck with one man.
Sadly for you—and your mother, although she wasn't ready to admit that—the guy was a fucking prick. Worst thing about him? He was sneaky about it. When you confronted your mother, telling her you weren't sure if her new boyfriend was that good of a guy, she had flipped out. As she threw all kinds of accusations on the table, such as you not wanting her to be happy and even insinuating you want her boyfriend for herself, you decided that enough was enough.
That night, you hunted the internet for an affordable place. It's how you found this apartment. You knew it wasn't the best neighborhood, but it was a place of your own, and you were sure that you could make it on your own over there.
After all, you had a well paid office job not too far away, and the costs of the apartment wouldn't interfere too much with your saving for law school.
So, kind of on a whim, you contacted the landlord. And now, here you are, ready to unpack all of your stuff. Your mother had at least been so kind to hire a moving truck, but you think it mainly had to do with her wanting you out of her house as quick as possible. You shared the sentiment, so you hadn't said much about it, besides a polite thank you of course.
It takes you three hours to get everything upstairs, and the janitor, Rod, even helps you out with some of the big furniture. Being a tall, broad guy, appearing to be in his sixties, you had actually been quite unnerved by him. Nevertheless, you decided to play smart and throw him a sweet smile the first time you ran into him. It had faded the seemingly permanent  frown on his ever so slightly, and after introducing yourself, his face was even neutral.
It didn't take more than three minutes of chit chat before Rod had warmed up to you, and by the end of the fifteen minutes, he offered to help you. If it hadn't been for him, you would've still been carrying pieces of your couch into your apartment.
You had been able to take over the bed frame and the dining table from the previous owner, so you only had to put your mattress on your bed before you could let yourself fall on it and chill out for a while.
After letting yourself rest for about fifteen minutes, you unpack as much of the stuff in the kitchen, and you spend the rest of the night unpacking your clothes while dancing to the music that blasts through your headphones.
At around midnight, you pass out during a feeble attempt at sorting your socks.
Your peaceful slumber gets interrupted, however, by an array of less peaceful noises coming from another apartment. The first few minutes awake are spent with your eyes stubbornly closed, hoping to fall asleep again, but when you hear an extremely loud thud, your eyes shoot open.
Getting up from your bedroom, you walk over to your door, and look through the peephole. It doesn't seem like there is anyone in the hallway, and the sounds do seem to have quieted down. You sigh, turning around to go back to your bed, when you hear a shout, followed by another thump. Frowning, you go back and open the door, walking out into the hallway. You squint, and blink a few times to get used to the harsh light. Then, you knock on the door in front of you.
There's a couple of voices sounding from inside the apartment, but no one answers. You groan, knocking again, and even harsher this time. It grows quiet, and you are contemplating going back to bed, hoping whoever is on the other side of that wall got the message, but then the door swings open.
In front of you stands a man, with brown curls and a very apparent frown on his face. One that falters ever so slightly at the sight of you, and is accompanied by a small smirk. He leans against the door frame. His cross necklace dangles, visible by his dress shirt that is far from buttoned all the way up, and you swear it hypnotizes you for the shortest second.
"H-hi." You stammer, looking at the man with wide eyes. His smirk grows, and you forget why you are even here.
"Hello." He greets back, hands sliding into his pockets as he looks you up and down, shamelessly. "What can I do for you, sweetheart?"
"Uh, I just moved into the apartment across from you, and I was wondering if you could keep down the noise a little bit?" You ask, but the man doesn't respond. He solely scans you with some sort of frown on his face. You can't deduce whether that is his neutral face, or if he's pissed at you. Nevertheless, you are kind of scared. "It's just— I don't mean to be rude. I just have to get up very early, and it was very loud, so... also, are you okay? It's— I heard a thud, I thought maybe someone fell?"
Once again, it grows quiet between the two of you. With every passing moment of silence, you are regretting your choice to knock. Did you really have to piss off your neighbors the first night you moved in? Couldn't have just battled through a broken night? You curse yourself as you wait for some sort of answer.
"Sure, sweetheart. I'll shut it all down for you."
You let out a breath of relief, glad to see he is not taking it badly. You bite your lip, trying to fight your smile from getting too wide.
"Really? Thank you so much! I appreciate it, and I really didn't mean to offend you or anything. I promise, it's just because I have to get up so early and the coffee at my work is horrible so—" You stop yourself mid-sentence when you realize you are babbling your new neighbor's ear off. "Never mind. Good night, and nice to meet you. My name is Y/N, by the way."
The man doesn't say anything once again, so you take it as your cue to get the fuck back to bed before making it worse. You walk into your apartment, turning around to close the door, when you hear his voice.
"Harry."
Your head shoots up, tilting it ever so slightly at the sudden word spoken by your neighbor. He tilts his head, mocking you, as he repeats the name while pointing to himself. With that, he turns around and closes the door. You do the same, leaning against the door as you realize you have the hottest new neighbor ever.
Another, extremely loud thud sounds from his apartment, and your eyebrows knit together. A loud voice is heard, one that is clearly Harry's shouting 'sorry!'. You giggle, shaking your head at the comedic timing before waltzing back to your bed.
Little do you know, that while you fall back asleep in your comfortable bed, your new neighbor thinks about you through the entire night. Harry's mind is absent, even as they drag the body of the guy that didn't pay up in time out of his apartment, even as he scrubs the blood off his hands and face.
"Sure, sweetheart. I'll shut it all down for you."
He had been purely sarcastic, baffled by the fact that you even had the guts to knock on his door. The first time you knocked, he thought it was just noise from outside or something. No one was stupid enough to knock on Harry Styles' door. No one was dumb enough to risk it.
But someone did knock; an insanely beautiful woman with nothing but an oversized shirt on. Well, shorts under it maybe, but for the sake of his imagination, you didn't. And you weren't stupid, you just didn't know whose door you were knocking on.
Anyone else who would have been foolish enough to do so, especially while he was dealing with a deadbeat who owed him more than enough money, would've met an entirely different fate.
The way you stumbled over your words and  let your eyes travel over his body had given him too much of an ego boost not to play with you a little bit. And once you had reacted so genuinely to his sarcastic response, he somehow didn't have it in his heart to tell you that he wasn't being serious.
Which is strange, because he didn't peg himself for someone with a heart, not anymore.
Nevertheless, he decided that you were right. The incessant noise had gone on long enough. And so, right after he closed the door, Harry turned around aimed his silencer right at the deadbeat's head. Following the thud of his body falling down, he had shouted a 'sorry' for the last noise he would make that night.
Now, as he lays in bed, the reason for his sleeplessness isn't the weight of another death on his shoulders. No, it's his new neighbor and her long, bare legs.
************************************************
ONE DAY LATER
Your shoulders are hurting.
After yesterday's moving activities and today's excruciatingly long day at work, you are exhausted. Not only did you have to do an insane amount of paperwork today, you also got assigned to even more administrative work that shouldn't even be yours to deal with in the first place.
When you had mentioned you wanted to gain experience in the field of law during your interview for receptionist at a law firm, you hadn't expected them to throw all the work in your lap. You were doing a lot of things, spending way too many after hours in the office, doing jobs that were never in your job description, and instead labeled as 'ways to gain experience'. The worst thing is, your boss is acting like these tasks are a huge favor to you, but you know it's just the jobs that they are too lazy to do themselves.
Nonetheless, you don't say anything about it. Despite the cruelness and sometimes uselessness of the assignments you are given, you do have access to active cases that lawyers are working on, and it gives you an opportunity to observe their styles and its effectiveness.
Wanting to become a lawyer is something you had always dreamed of. You loved justice, and you weren't afraid to fight for it. In your day to day life, you are very sweet, bubbly, and in some cases—like yesterday—even shy. But once you are in a professional setting, you can switch and stand strong. The division between your personal and professional self is one you have learned to balance very well, and you also use it as a secret weapon. People are way too quick to underestimate you, and you always make sure it comes back to bite them in the ass.
You put your groceries and briefcase on the ground, allowing yourself to look for your keys, which you forgot to take out of your bag and are now buried somewhere at the bottom. Head deep into your purse, you don't notice Harry walking out of his apartment until his door shuts. It is right after you've found your keys, so with them in hand you turn around to greet him with a smile.
Your new neighbor looks gorgeous, which doesn't bode well for you because you are currently feeling like an expired, mushy sack of potatoes. You shiver at the thought.
"Hey!" You say instead.
"Hello sweetheart." His smooth, English accent hits your ears just right. "Sleep well last night?"
Your cheeks turn pink, and you nod. "Yes, thank you for asking. Oh! Speaking of..."
You turn around and bend down to dig through your grocery bag. When your eyes meet Harry's again, you are reaching out a bouquet of flowers. He stares at it, wary of your intentions.
"They're for you." You feel the need to clarify.
"Aw, sweetheart, you didn't have to go through the hassle of buying me flowers. I'm quite an easy man you know, all you have to do is ask." He says, grin wide as he observes the way your eyes nearly pop out of your sockets at the suggestion of him and you. He likes seeing you all flustered.
"W-what, no! I— it was for yesterday! Because you were so nice to me. I wanted to make up for meeting in such an unfortunate way. Didn't want you to think you have a shitty neighbor now or something." You explain, watching Harry's amusement at your awkwardness.
"I'd never think that, sweetheart." His voice is low, and despite saying it in a bit of a joking way, you swallow at the sound of the sentence. The raspiness of it just gets to you. You brush your nerves off with a weak smile, and turn to open your door.
"Well, have a good night." You say, awkwardly waving at Harry as you carry your bags into your apartment. You place them in your hallway before walking back to close the door. Harry waves back with the flowers, winking at you.
"Good night, sweetheart."
Your heart races at the continuous nickname. It sounds so sexy coming out of his mouth, and it is the only thing you can think of as you cook your dinner. It is even hard to concentrate while watching your favorite show.
A few hours go by, and the sound of Harry's voice doesn't fade from your mind. Neither does the excruciating pain in your shoulders. At around nine p.m. you give up and decide to grab some painkillers. However, to your great horror, you find out that you ran out and forgot to buy new ones.
Cursing yourself, you rush over to your coatrack and grab your jacket. Along with your purse, containing important things such as money, your keys, and pepper spray, you leave your apartment to pop into the convenience store nearby.
It's only a five minute walk, but with your speed you cut a minute from that estimate. It takes a little bit to find the paracetamol, but after grabbing two boxes of pills, you rush to the cash register. You wait until the man in front of you has paid, smiling politely when he turns around to walk out of the store, and step forward to pay for your painkillers.
Despite the cashier's monotone voice, you are more than satisfied with this convenience store, and you walk out smiling at the knowledge of being rid of your pain very soon.
You flinch at the sight of the man from before standing right outside, grinning at you as you walk by. Despite his middle aged appearance, his teeth are rather yellow. You avoid making further eye contact, tension growing in your stomach. As you walk back to your apartment, you make sure to keep your pace quick.
You're too scared to look behind you, but you feel it. You feel that this man is walking a few meters behind you and you also feel like you might throw up. But you keep walking, keys in one hand, pepper spray in the other.
You are ready to open the door that leads you to the hallway of your apartment complex, and immediately push the key into the hole once you get there. But for some stupid fucking reason, the door won't budge. Your heartbeat rises and your hands are getting clammy as you shimmy your keys, trying to open that goddamn door. As your eyes begin to water, you hear a voice behind you.
"Need some help, pumpkin?"
Frantically, your gaze searches for a way to get out of here. It falls into the intercom, but you can't seem to find some sort of emergency button. Since you can't buzz yourself in, that option seems to be useless.
Then, an idea enters your mind.
You take a deep breath, hoping it'll steady your voice before you respond. "No thank you."
The man chuckles. "I think you do. 'S okay, I like a damsel in distress."
Pulling the key out of the hole and wrapping your hand around it, you turn around to the man. You swallow your pride and try to be as nice as you can be when rejecting someone. Stepping back a bit, you almost lean against the wall as you blindly press one of the buttons behind you. Luckily, the noise of ringing a bell isn't very loud from downstairs, so you don't think the man notices your sneaky action.
"I am fine, good night." You say, your smile gone now. You can't find it in yourself to be nice and sweet after that creepy comment. Technically, you are very helpless right now. Because of him, and his actions that fill you with fear. The threat of his presence is what makes you that 'damsel in distress' in the first place, and you hate the fact that men idolize saving you when often they are the danger itself.
"I don't think you are. Why don't you come with me, get a drink together?" His tone is dominated by the insincerity that drips from his words. You know it isn't a question, it's a command. The salacious smirk he wears with it is disgusting, and the way his eyes shamelessly scan you makes you want to shower five times just to feel less gross.
You feel the slight pain in your thumb for pressing so much and hard into the button behind you, but you can't help but pray that your idea will work.
"No, please leave me alone." You try to be as stern as you can, although your shaky voice isn't conveying that message very well.
"I don't think you understood what I said, pumpkin. You and me are gonna get a drink together." He reaches forward and grabs you by your arm, pulling you towards him. You try to shake him off of you, but his grip only tightens. You choke out a cry, still trying to get his grimy hands off of you while he only buries his fingernails further into your skin.
"Let me go!" You scream as loud as you can, hoping that there is someone who will at least hear you. Your free hand reaches into your purse, and you pull out your pepper spray. In a split second, you are holding it up and spray it in the man's eyes.
He shrieks in shock, and lets go of you, covering his eyes with his hands. You quickly turn around to run back inside, but crash into a body on your way there.
Holding your waist, Harry keeps you from falling over. He frowns, his jaw clenching when he catches your terror filled, red eyes.
"Go inside." He orders. While the context is stern, the words spoken come out way softer than one would think when demanding something from someone. You don't have to be told twice, rushing through the open door and running up the countless flights of stairs. You are completely out of breath when you reach your floor, but you don't stop hurrying until you are in the safety of your own apartment.
You tear all your clothes off your body, feeling like you might choke because everything you have on feels to tight to your skin. You keep crying as you jump into the shower to wash yourself off, as you take off your make-up, and as you put a tank top and loose sweatpants on your freshly washed body.
You take your head out of the bun it was in to keep it dry as you walk towards your front door upon hearing a knock. When you open it, you're standing face-to-face with your neighbor.
"Are you okay?" Harry asks, eyebrows knotted as he looks at you. You nod, not wanting to say a word because you don't want to make him uncomfortable by becoming a blubbering mess in front of him. "Can I come in?"
You nod again, opening the door further so he can enter your place. His steps are careful and light, and you see his eyes scan the apartment as he walks in. You shut the door behind him, making Harry turn around to look at you.
He is back at your side as soon as he spots the marks on your arm that the creepy man left when he tried to take you to god knows where. With a tight jaw, Harry glances up at you.
"You need to put ice on that. It's gonna bruise."
You look down, too timid to meet his gaze, and notice Harry's red knuckles. It doesn't take you very long to put two and two together. For some reason, you don't want to directly mention that just yet, so instead you whisper:
"You too."
Harry lets out a breathy chuckle and nods his head, watching you as you walk over to your freezer to get some ice. Putting it in two different dish cloths, you hand one to him before walking over to your couch. Harry follows suit, plopping next to you and putting the cloth meant for him on your arm.
Flushed from that action, you slowly grab his hand and place it flat on your thigh. Ignoring the way it makes the rest of your body feel, you press the ice filled cloth against his knuckles, hoping the cold will give him some relief. He winces, his fingers tightening around your thigh ever so slightly before immediately relaxing again.
Your eyes travel to your own arm, initially to see Harry's hand wrapped around it. However, the sight of the red marks on your arm make your eyes water again, the memory from what just happened resurfacing. The sickening fear of not knowing how the fuck to get out of that situation is as overwhelming as it was just before, even though you are safe now. You hate that a man made you feel so weak.
You can't help the tears from flowing, so you just let them as you silently recall the events of tonight. Your thoughts are cut in on when Harry removes his bruised hand from your thigh and cups it around your jaw. He leans forward, green eyes all sympathetic.
"It's okay, you're okay. He won't hurt you anymore, or ever again." He whispers. You shut your eyes, your silent tears now breaking into soft sobs. There is no choice but to let the sadness flow, and relish in the comfort of Harry's fingers wiping away your tears as you cry out the stress you had been feeling, and give it a place.
You feel it getting lighter with every cry. Each tear that Harry catches is a bit of weight off your shoulders. For some reason he chooses to sit there and offer you a space to store your pain. And even though normally you would never allow yourself, tonight you make use of that space.
*****************************************
A few weeks had gone by, and Harry had taken it upon himself to become your new watch dog. After what happened, he refused to let you go outside by yourself.
The morning after the incident, you got up and went to work like normal. But when you opened your apartment door, you ran into Harry, who had also been planning on going outside. He walked you to your car, and watched as you drove away. That night, when you returned from work, you ran into him again in the hallway downstairs, and walked to your apartments together.
After about three nights of these exact same situations, you could confirm for yourself that Harry was waiting to escort you anywhere.
You thought confronting him about your knowledge of his schemes would put an end to the overprotectiveness, but you were proven wrong. Instead of toning down his behavior, he amped it up. There wasn't a trip to the supermarket that you made by yourself anymore. And anytime you tried to say something about his following you everywhere, he would make up a silly excuse that left you speechless with flushed cheeks and a stupid grin on your face. You gave up fighting it not long after that, mainly because you enjoy his company so much.
Being so close to Harry all the time did make you realize how much distance everyone else kept from him. You didn't miss how people avoided his gaze, or how certain cashiers stumbled over their words as you paid for your groceries. It had you wondering; just how scary was Harry?
Harry had really taken it upon himself to protect you. It kind of went automatically, if he had to be honest. He simply couldn't watch you walk around the neighborhood so defenseless. What happened to you had enraged him so much, he didn't want a repetition of it.
Of course, an exact repetition was not an option anymore since he had beaten up the guy who assaulted you to the point where he was hospitalized. Harry couldn't find it in himself to feel even the slightest of remorse. Well, maybe only for the fact that he didn't kill him right then and there. He would have, had he not been too worried about you being alone upstairs.
Soon enough, word had traveled about your association with Harry, and it resulted into people being afraid of you. You were so incredibly confused about the shaky voices of people you'd ask for help in stores. You had never imagined yourself to have such an intimidating aura.
Since Harry had taken it upon himself to watch you, you had taken it upon yourself to feed him. It was the least you could do, and it gave you a reason to keep him around longer at night.
Part of you was aware that wanting to get closer to Harry might not be the best idea, especially considering the collectively instilled fear that lingered everywhere he would go. But he was so sweet to you, and you were sure that there was an explanation.
So, tonight during dinner, you had decided you would ask him about it.
Harry was delighted when you asked him if he wanted to stay and eat, and didn't hesitate to say yes. Now as he leans against the counter, watching you cook the pasta you promised to prepare, you have to actively control your breathing. His intense stare has a way of turning your legs into jelly and fogging up your mind.
"How was your day?" You ask him as casually as you can. Harry doesn't tear his eyes off of you, grinning at the way he is making you squirm.
"Good, love."
You swallow at the new nickname he suddenly conjured up. The low baritone of his voice combined with his green eyes on yours has your heartbeat getting out of control. You hear the breathy chuckle leaving Harry's mouth, and it makes your stomach turn. He knows exactly what he is doing.
"So, uhm... I have a question." You say, focusing extra hard on stirring the boiling pasta. He hums, indirectly telling you to ask away. You turn down the pitch on which your pasta stands, and turn to face him. For the first second that you meet his eyes, you were forget what you were even going to ask him, but you quickly regain your senses.
"Why is everyone here so afraid of you?" You tilt your head, really observing Harry. Sure, he is tall, with a broad and muscled figure. He always wears dark clothes and his green eyes will never look away first. But to truly be terrified of this man? You couldn't imagine why.
Harry doesn't say anything. He pushes himself away from the counter and walks towards you, slowly towering over your smaller frame. He leans forward, his face closer to yours than it has ever been before, and it gives you ideas that you probably shouldn't have.
"Do I scare you?"
Silently, you shake your head. Harry's eyes slowly travel down your face, fixating on your mouth for the longest five seconds you have ever experienced, and then shoot back up to meet yours again. "Then why do you care so much about what others think?"
"I don't." You respond embarrassingly fast, overwhelmed with a need to get his approval.
"Well, there you have your answer."
With that, he turns around to the counter and grabs the glass of white wine you poured for him. Taking it between his hands as if it were a cocktail glass, you watch entranced as he takes a sip. Your gaze falls onto his hands. You feel sinful for the thoughts that occupy your mind, but they fly out the window when you spot how bruised his knuckles are. And you realize...
"No, I don't." You say sternly. Harry looks at you, amused by your protest. "I don't know anything about you, Harry."
Harry laughs, but it’s a bitter laugh, accompanied by his hand running through his hair and his head shaking as if he can’t believe what he is dealing with. A part of you wants to get on your knees and beg him to forgive you for being suspicious of who he truly is, but you refrain from doing it.
“People fear what they don’t know, Y/N.” He says, his eyes finding yours. Your heart starts beating faster, aware of the fact that his eyes are going to keep being trained on yours without even so much as faltering.
“I don’t give a fuck about what those people think of me, they don’t know me. You do. So why is their judgment relevant? I’m here, aren’t I? Standing in front of you, letting you know me. Is that not enough?”
You feel a pang of guilt in your stomach at his words, and the authenticity of them. You let out a sigh, breaking eye contact to look down at the floor, contemplating what he’s saying. Maybe he is right.
“Sorry.” You say so softly it could almost be classified as a whisper. The feeling of Harry’s fingers pushing your chin up makes your eyes meet his, and you notice the hint of a smile he wears.
“Go sit.”
Slightly confused, you follow his order, looking back at him to see him finishing up the pasta and making a bowl for the both of you.
“I’m 29.” He states, his back still to you. Your mouth breaks into a smile, and you prop your elbow on the couch, leaning your chin into the palm of your hand as you observe him.
“Really?” You are grinning like a proper idiot now. Harry nods.
“I don’t have any siblings, but we did have a dog, and we rescued a stray kitten that was sleeping in our garden.” He goes on, turning around and walking over to the couch with the bowls of pasta. He sits down and hands you one.
“What are their names?” You ask.
“Dog is called Pepper. Mum let me name the cat, so I named her Hades.” He explains, making you a giggle.
“You named your girl cat Hades?”
“Persephone is such a mouthful. Plus, I was like ten, and had this big obsession with Hades.” He shrugs, taking a bite of the pasta. Your eyes widen, and you begin to laugh even harder.
“You mean to tell me that little ten year old Harry was obsessed with the Greek God of the underworld, the God of death… Are you okay?”
Harry shrugs. “He’s just doing his job.”
You cover your face with your hands, beyond amused by his nonchalance. You don’t see it, but Harry might take more joy out of the situation than you. His eyes sparkle with adoration as he watches you laugh, and he wishes he knew how to control time just to stay in this moment forever. There is something so extraordinary about your happiness being caused by him. He is fascinated with how much he wishes he could do it every day for the rest of his life.
He didn’t know whether opening up about himself was the smartest ideas, but he would give you his social security number if it made you laugh like that.
You take your hands off your face and look at him, the sudden urge to kiss him being almost unbearable. Almost. You sigh, not knowing how to express these feelings you have towards him, so instead you opt for a simple comment.
“I’m so glad you’re my neighbor.”
Harry smirks. “I’m glad you’re my neighbor too.”
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simp-ly-writes · 3 months ago
Text
Are You Mine?
─────── · · How Could You Refuse? (pt.3)
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Pairing: Jayce Talis x Shy!Assistant!Reader
─ · · SUMMARY: No matter how hard you try, your body, your mind, heart, and it seems that every other person you meet all agree on one thing, you and Jayce.
─ · · TAGS: female pronouns used, light angst, fluff, touch as a love language, jealous! and protective!Jayce (no seriously), HIGHLY suggestive themes, kissing, reader is mentioned to have hair and is shorter than Jayce.
─ · · MASTERLIST | TAGLIST REQUEST | WORDCOUNT: 4,026
─ · · SERIES MASTERLIST
─ · · A/N: I'm just obsessed with these two... and I hope you guys are as well ;)
─────── · ·
─ · · Pulling your white lab coat over your dress and zipping up your boots, you locked your door and made your way to the laboratory- excited to take your mind away from silk and ties to formulas and equations.
─ · · You smiled softly, greeting everyone in the halls as they each waved and said their "good afternoons!" You were always shocked by the kindness of everyone and their ability to recognize you even when you did everything in your power to stay tucked away where you were comfortable (yet Jayce always had a secret power of teasing you out and into the public's eye)
─ · · But just as you were to step into the elevator and swipe your card, a dozen voices called out to you, an older student guide running after them, their parents staggering behind as your shoulders tensed before you turned around. "Miss (name)! Miss (name)!," they all begged and cheered once seeing your face. You smiled softly, "Good afternoon everyone" you greeted as they all came running, wide eyes and smiles.
It was a new potential batch of scholars that were visiting the school for the afternoon, you shook your head forgetting what day it was today as you shook each of their hands, their guide, a younger peer of yours in the biology wing winced, apologizing. "Miss (name) is a very important and highly influential public figure that you all appear to know... and they are also on a strict schedule-"
"Can we just ask a few questions?" "yes, can we please?" the students beg and you see some of the parents begging as well as the guide who looks over to you with equal pleading eyes. You sigh, "Only a couple, I have a meeting with the Councillor soon," you explain as they ooh and ahh. You tuck your books close to your chest, trying to hide the shaking in your hands.
"Whats it like working with Councillor Talis?" you giggle at the question, shaking your head, letting your hair cover your face. "I have worked with the Councillor for nearly a decade now and I can say that he is a brilliant man that puts the care of others before himself, and I am here to make sure someone is there to ensure he can work in prime condition." The student thanks you, taking a step back as a another steps forwards.
"I really love your dress, where did you get it?" you look up with a small smile watching as the student hangs on to your every word, "A friend made it or well got it made for me on my work-anniversary," you explain.
"Whats your favourite part of your job?" You hmm, thinking or your answer as you shuffle the books in your arm. "I really enjoy being able to listen to Councillor Talis's and Mr. Viktor's ideas and plans as they work them out piece by piece- getting a touch of their genius is nothing short of pure magic." They take a step back as you look at your watch, one more question...
"Mrs. Talis, I must say that-" you can hear a few of the students gasp and giggle as you go bright red and stare at your shoes before clearing your throat, "I'm afraid I'm not his mother, that is a special role for Miss. Ximena, Leader of House of Talis," you explain as the parent apologizes, going to pick up your hand yet you take a step away, picking up your head, "I'm afraid I must take my leave, please, enjoy the rest of your tour." You swiftly stand back inside the elevator, watching as the doors close in front of your face yet catching parts of the leftover conversation.
"I mean I thought that they were together?"
"Dad you're so embarrassing! Ugh, just because a pretty and smart lady is beside a man does not mean that they're together!"
"Well, son, every time I see that man looking at that woman like she hung all the stars in his sky..." This has to stop, you told yourself.
─────── · ·
─ · · You were surprised to see just Viktor in the laboratory today, but you were overwhelmingly thankful for it as you took your safety equipment from off the rack and walked over to stand behind Viktor who was currently holding a piece of chalk to his chin in contemplation
"I'm not one to miss others, but a morning without your coffee was nothing short of a funeral," you snorted, "Aww, I didn't know you would miss me so much Viktor. I promise to stay with you every moment of the day," you tease to hear a scoff.
"Please don't. I don't need another earful from Jayce," your eyebrows shoot up as you pour and mix Viktor's coffee before handing it to him and pick up a piece of chalk, silently fixing a missing digit as he curses underneath his breath. "Jayce already came in?" you question, taking a look at your watch again.
"Yes, just left with Mel," you hum, tapping your foot as you look over the final answer before moving up the latter and fix another portion. "Thats it?" Viktor comments, taking a sip of his coffee, doing his best to hide his pleased reaction as you look over your shoulder before sliding with the latter over to the other side. "Whats it?" you retort.
"I mean, you and Jayce are the same entity... I was surprised to... not have you this morning," Viktor explains, sitting down to rest his leg, watching as you work and fix his diagram. "No, that was correct," he comments- "Its a .5" you say back before sharing rolled-eyes.
"If you want to say you missed me, Viktor in your own little ways, it's okay, I already understood the first message and I have missed you too," you don't turn around while speaking, drawing the hexcore from memory at this point.
"That was not my, 'message,'" Viktor says in a monotone voice, "I was saying that Mels presence... is to be a one time occurrence, yes?" You laugh, stepping down before rolling your chair over to sit beside Viktor, opening up one of your journals with last weeks trial information. "I didn't know you to be so outspokenly political, Viktor," you tease- not quite touching again on what Viktor was trying to say.
His brow furrows, sharp lines coating over his features in annoyance. "And here I thought you to be smart-" you lightly slap his arm, "Viktor!"
"What I'm trying to say is that I much prefer having you and Jayce." You let the words linger in the room and swim in your head before speaking up, "Well, you would be of the few wanting that, not even myself," you stand, passing the papers over before heading back towards the doors. "I will be back to write down the final findings of today, do remember to eat the lunch I placed in the fridge," Viktor nods waiting for the door to be closed before sighing, Jayce, Jayce, Jayce.
─────── · ·
─ · · You knock before entering Jayce's office, confused as to why you do not see him there. You take a minute, sitting in front of his desk, waiting and watching as the minutes tick over... Now that you think about it, you didn't see him since leaving him in the hallway that night...
─ · · You check the library, check the lab again to see Viktor stumble awake and act like he was working the whole time, you roll your eyes, yelling at him to eat before closing the door again. You even walk towards the councillor room, nobody bats an eyelash watching you go around into these spaces as you scurry your way out of another empty room.
─ · · The day was almost nearing finished now and you needed to go over what Jayce would be doing and showing for his years Progress Day. And with little locations left, you took off towards the House of Talis in search of the Man of Progress
─ · · The guard smiled at you, a white glove welcoming you inside as you cleaned off the bottom of your boots and walked down the hall. You smile remebering the first time you came into this home when you first started working for Jayce. How it was just his mother to fill the space, you were thankful that Jayce had hired people to help her around the home- provide her company as you and Jayce had become more and more busy.
─ · · "Councillor Talis?" you called out, listening to how your words echoed in the empty space before being received by not the Talis you were looking for but Ximena.
"Hello dear," she greets you, arms wrapping you up into a hug as she pressing a kiss on to your cheek. You flush, mouth opening and closing before squeezing out a small "hello" back to her chuckle.
"As timid as the first time, I did hope that Jayce would get you to come out of your shell more. Please, our home is your home, be comfortable, would you like some tea or coffee maybe?" Mrs. Talis asks, still holding your hand as she leads you into a sitting room. Tall windows invite the setting sun to flood the space in warmth.
Now that you are sitting, you can truly take in the whole feeling of the plush furnishings and various pictures of a younger Jayce upon the walls. You smile at the woman before you, "A tea would be wonderful, can I help-"
"No! no- you do enough already, dear. Please, allow me," you feel immensely bad, a noble woman pouring your own tea? You could feel your own mother rolling in her grave- screaming at you. Picking at the small jewellery you wear you jump as a cup is being presented in front of your face.
"Now, tell me. How is my boy Jayce doing?" She asks with hopeful eyes looking into your own. You tilt your head, hand brushing behind your neck that causes the woman to smile even larger, "Umm, I was hoping that you would know where your son is actually. I have spent the day looking for him," you explain. Her smile drops and all you can feel is guilt.
"I'm sure he's okay! I mean I've watched him train-" you think back to him shirtless, panting, sweat dripping down his forehead as he looks at you, "a-and he can defend himself! he always has staff and the guard around to help and-" you start to rattle off answers before becoming shushed by the wave of a hand as you fold your hands in your lap. "I must tell that boy off, you poor thing, you shouldn't have to be running after him," she shakes her head, apologizing to you instead as she calls a staff member over, whispering something into their ear as they both stare at you and the staff leaves.
"I must say, dear. You looked stunning in that gown last night, I loved seeing all the pictures of you and Jayce together," you place on a tight smile nodding your head along to her words as you sweat, remembering how you ripped into her "dear Jayce" last night. Now that you think about it... you hope the collar to your shirt is high enough from last night, shit, so thats what people have been staring at... Somehow Ximena Talis catches your thoughts as she laughs, "It's alright dear," your cheeks warm, "I'm thankful that my son has chosen someone like you," she clarifies and you feel sick, "someone of clear morals, intelligent and kind. The true definition of beauty."
But before you can explain that you and her son were not in fact together, the doors open once more and a stoic Jayce Talis is accompanied by Mel. You and her share a nod and smile to one another, you feel Jayce's stare as you stand and bow your head slightly. "Good evening, Councillors," you greet.
"None of that now, (name)," Jayce shuns you, walking over and pressing a kiss to his mothers hand. He then moves to you, leaning down, your heart pounding in anticipation yet he stops, standing back upright and clearing his throat as Mel walks back to his side. "There was something that needed to be discussed?" Jayce asks, taking a seat as Mel sits on the arm of his chair, I remember doing that in his office- you close your eyes, no, not anymore. Professionals- remember, professionals...
"Yes, Councillor Ta-" Jayce glares- hard at you, daring you to continue your words. "Jayce," you correct yourself with squinted eyes as he nods, leaning away from Mel to focus on you entirely. You watch as his mother leans back, smiling behind her teacup. "I needed to talk with you about your Progress Day preparations and what Viktor and I found from todays tests."
Jayce stares at you for a moment, taking in the small exchange you and Mel shared earlier before he connects two and two together for what happened at the party. But just as he connects that answer, he is left with a dozen new ones. Why push me away now? Why shy away? Do you not understand how much you mean to me? Can't you see this is so much more than just "work"? Why don't you love me? Why... don't you... why? Is it me? Am I the problem? What do I need to do, to change, to get you to see me?
"Mel and I have Progress Day handled already, sweetheart, (name). Now what did you two find?" His smile appears forced, his hands fidgeting as his eyes tip down, watching at how you play with the rings on your fingers. Its like watching two computers talk to one another, Mel cringes, starting to feel out of place as she stands and sits down on another chair, watching you both with curious eyes.
─ · · Jayce looked pained his muscles flexing to keep him sitting in place. His eyes were wide, head nodding along to your every word- transfixed. It was like you had casted some sort of magical spell over the man- desperate to touch even an essence of you. Mel watched as you stuttered once seeing his stare on you, watched your adorable fidgeting and animated explanations, you truly came out of your shell taking about what you were confident in, she was beginning to understand Jayce's words when speaking about you.
"She can explain anything, can find just the right words or know want I need without even looking. Sometimes I swear she even knows I'm thinking about her and when our eyes meet, I feel sick in the best way. She is the perfect woman and I want to... meet whoever get's lucky enough to be with her..."
─ · · Mel, blinks, bringing herself back to the present. "I-I, or well, Viktor and I found that by positions the runes at .5 of a degree southwards inline with the sun results in more power coming from the vessel... we did a small test on one of your hammers, its force is nothing short of incredible,-" you lose yourself, taking a mile a minute as you open up your books and show, it starts to feel just like old times again as Jayce almost falls out of his chair to look more closely at your drawings, nodding along as he flips back and forth between designs.
─────── · ·
─ · · Ximena Talis's small smile is now a full born smirk as she tips her head over to Mel, "they really are perfect for one another, are they not?" she says. Mel does not reply right away, you both were just... working and yet Jayce was so animatic and attentive with you. Pulling your hand from picking at your skin, flipping the page for you as you rattled off statistics before he was not even speaking fluent English, only numbers that you jotted down with ease and precision; keeping up with his every thought.
That once stoic Jayce that she entered the room with was nowhere to be found as he looked just about ready to fall into your lap and have you pet his hair. "They work well together," Mel answers. Not looking at the raised chin she received. "Hm," Zimena scoffs, "I knew she was the one the first time I met her. Jayce refused to orbit anywhere without her in reach. At first I was scared to see my boy jump to confidence so quickly, to put himself out there, but when we sat and had dinner together. I could see why he was pushing himself so hard- it was for her. Always for her even if he chooses to say else wise." Mel looks at Jayce's mother as they both exchange a silent conversation... she never had a chance.
─────── · ·
─ · · You both are breathless, now sitting on the same couch after your discoveries. Jayce looks down at you, at your exposed neck before his heart hammers and burns in his chest like stakes through his heart. He keeps uncovering answers tonight and now he wants them to stop appearing.
You catch his look, moving your hair and not meeting his furrowed brows. You watch a fist form in his lap his hand grip the couch from behind your head. He leans in, uncaring, or well... too caring, as usual as you turn away, exposing the markings again. "I want you to listen to my speech this weekend before the event," Jayce says, a statement rather than a question. You think back on your already planned weekend plans yet all you can see his Jayce's honey eyes staring into your own, drinking you in and leaving you breathless, How could you refuse?
You nod, watching as he smirks before offering a hand, holding it, his thumb rolling over your knuckles in an effort to soothe himself more than you it seems and leads you out towards the door.
But before you can put on your coat and leave, he pulls your arm back, pressing your back against the wood door and your chests together. Your eyes go wide, a small gasp leaving your lips that his eyes flicker down to. He brings a hand up to circle your cheek before resting his forehead against your own, "A night without you, your words, your touch... helped me to remember how much I need you-"
"You have me, Jayce," you say albeit a little breathless and overwhelmed. You pray that Mel and his mother don't come after you both soon, or maybe you did, you didn't know what to think honestly while being enveloped in with warmth.
"No, I," he sighs, "I know that but," Jayce appears frustrated, brining a fist up beside your head before he steps back, gripping his hair. You extend you head, touching his shoulder gently feeling him take breaths. You stand up on your toes, pulling his chin down to look at you, "Jayce, hey, you can tell me anything you know that right? I'm your assistant, I am meant to help you with anything-"
"Help me?" Jayce asks softly, you nod, eyes welling with concern. You hadn't seen him this way not since Viktor had been getting more and more ill... "I need you to kiss me."
You blink, the words not quite reaching your ears as he places his head on your shoulder. "what?" you ask, looking back at the doors you exited form, still closed. "I need you to kiss me."
"Jayce!" you whisper shout, his hair tickling your neck as he grabs your hips, a part of you missing the feeling of his large hands on your body. "Are you alright?" you ask, starting to feel his head for any bumps and body for any bruises. He groans from your touch.
"No. I'm not since you don't understand," his grips tightens as you whimper, "you are mine. You are everything to me. I don't care what anyone else says or thinks, I only think- feel you. I cannot function without having you close, I need to hold you, to-to touch you to even have a chance speaking properly and you ground me more than anyone else could, more than I would allow anyone else to."
You shake in his arms, gripping his shoulders, his words shocking you to your core. "Jayce-I" he can already hear the hesitation in your voice. "Whats holding you, holding us back?" he asks, looking at you again, you know you cannot lie.
"I'm you assistant, Jayce-I-I-" Jayce lets you go and all you can feel is cold without his touch. You cross your arms, shivering in your coat.
"You're fired then, what else I need to do to make you want me, make you need me," Jayce says, you gasp, Jayce is completely serious, his strong arms crossing over his own chest as he stares you down, "and before you go saying you have a boyfriend, I know it was a one-night stand." You roll your eyes at him- wrong choice.
Jayce pulls you outside once hearing the room stir from behind you both. You feel as though it is that night in the hallway again as he walks through the streets, the cool night air kissing your skin as Jayce pulls you away and back to his apartment. "J-Jayce! You're not acting like yourself, please," you beg for what you don't know yet he does nothing to reply not until you both are inside then and suddenly, his mouth is on yours and you can't help but lose the feeling in your legs and fold into his touch.
Jayce grabs your neck, pressing his lips harder against your own as his tongue parts your lips, deepening the kiss. You pull at his jacket, forgetting yourself, forgetting the setting in this moment before pulling away- gasping for air before Jayce is pulling you back in for another, not giving you time to think. His lips paint over every mark and indent in your skin as if trying to make you forget.
Your breath gets cut off for a second as he licks at your collarbone, chest rising and falling in shallow breaths, "Jayce," you moan out his name as he growls kissing you, swallowing your words. You grip at the material of his shirt, pulling him closer to you, you can feel him smile against your skin before leaving a series of lingering kisses up your neck and behind your ear in which he playfully bites.
Jayce's voice is deep, his words short as he whispers them only for you to hear, "I love you." You freeze taking in your first deep breath, your eyes fully open to look into his own, you can see just how scared he is in this moment yet so ready to lose it all just for the chance of being with you. Your heart hammers you can feel his own pounding against your clothes that feel way too hot in this moment.
"I love you too, Jayce," you say, he kisses your cheek. "Say it again," he commands, picking you up by the back of your things. You wrap them around his waist, squealing as your back hits a plush bed. You look up, watching as Jayce removes his shirt. Your lips parted, hair spread out like a Halo behind your head, your legs still parted to leave space for him as he leans down on his forearms, encaging your head.
"I-I love you," you say again, this time a bit more timid than he likes. He rolls his hips into your own as you cry, "Say it again."
"I love you!" you say with a bit more confidence, nails reaching up to feel the muscles of his back. He leans down, pressing a kiss to your nose, "I love you too."
─────── · ·
─ · · A/N: don't ask I don't know what came over me to write this last section LMAO. So... part 4 anyone, part 4 LOL jk jk... (unless?) 👀
─ · · TAGLIST: @sseleniaa
─ · · SERIES MASTERLIST
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youreverydayfangirl · 2 months ago
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THIS IS WHY WE CANT HAVE NICE THINGS
pairing: max verstappen x singer reader
summary: the one in the wake of reputation, people begin to forget and a new story is written
warning: ill come back to it (i didn't but theirs nothing just vague mentions of past mental health issues and online hate)
a/n: only one more part :(
face claim: sabrina carpenter
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yourusername to celebrate a month as billboards no. 1 album, ready for it...? mv out now
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The atmosphere of the set was buzzing with energy, y/n sitting in the directors set as she watched the chaos in front of her unfold. Her makeup artist was adding the final bits of eyeshadow to her smokey eye as y/n rewatched some old takes of a scene. Max watched, slightly awkwardly, from the side, a soft smile on his face, his reflection expressing awe.
From the corner of her eye Y/n could see him staring at her and turned to face him with a playful smirk, "How do I look?"
"Like your about to break the internet." Max said, a little smirk on his face though his eyes shone with pride.
She rolled her eyes, laughing. "You say that every time."
"Because it’s true every time," Max shot back, his grin widening.
As she went to get up Max kissed her shoulder quickly before letting her get to work. She laughed slightly at the simple display of affection before whispering in his ear, "You're my good luck charm, Verstappen." He watched as she ran off, intensely aware of the box that sat heavily in his pocket.
"Just don't forget me when you're topping the charts Schatje."
Before the cameras started rolling Y/n made eye contact with Max from the set, mouthing an I love you.
(this was set before they got engaged just an fyi)
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yourusername GETAWAY CAR MV IS OUT NOW <3
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Y/n felt very secure, hidden away in her trailer which was only illuminated by the soft glow of fairly lights strung along the edges of her mirror. She lay on the couch going through her storyboard, Max on top of her, weight heavy. His head rested on her chest as his hand absentmindedly played with the hem of her top, occasionally pressing kissing against her stomach.
“Shouldn’t you be getting ready for your cameo, Mr. Superstar?” she teased, glancing down at him with a playful smirk.
Max grinned up at her, his eyes twinkling with a mischievous sparkle. “I am ready. My job is just to stand there and look good, right?”
“Pretty much,” Y/n quipped, running her fingers gently through his hair. “And don’t forget to smolder. That’s very important.”
Max chuckled, closing his eyes as he leaned into her touch. “I’ll smolder for you and only you, liefde.”
The door to the trailer creaked open, and y/ns assistant peeked in. “Y/n, five minutes to set.”
“Got it,” she replied, her fingers pausing briefly in Max’s hair. The PA disappeared, leaving them in their little bubble of quiet.
“You’re gonna kill it,” Max murmured, his voice soft but sure. He sat up, leaning forward to cup her face with both hands. “Every time I see you work, I fall for you all over again.”
Y/n’s cheeks flushed, and she let out a small laugh. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”
“Ridiculously in love with you,” he replied, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead, then her nose, then her lips. “Now go show everyone why you’re the star.”
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y/nsprivate someweirdo took over my trailer and started hogging everything
y/nsfuturehusband HEY THATS NOT NICE!!!
-> y/nsprivate KIDDING AND I LOVE AND THANK YOU AND I LOVE YOU
-> y/nsfuturehusband CALL ME RN PLEASEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
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maxverstappen1 🖤
-> yourusername 🖤
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The soft hum of the TV filled the quiet apartment, but Y/n wasn’t really watching. She sat curled up on the couch, knees drawn to her chest, her fingers absentmindedly tugging at the loose threads of her hoodie. Her eyes were fixed on nothing in particular as her mind raced with negative thoughts and memories she wished she could forget.
Max walked in from the kitchen, holding two mugs of tea. His smile faded the second he noticed her expression. Setting the mugs down on the coffee table, he knelt in front of her, his hands gently covering hers to still their nervous movements.
“Liefde,” he said softly, his voice laced with concern, “what’s going on?”
She shook her head, biting her lip as tears welled up in her eyes. “I don’t even know how to explain it,” she whispered.
Max’s heart ached at the sight of her like this. He slid onto the couch beside her, wrapping his arms around her tightly, as if he could shield her from the ghosts of her past. “You don’t have to explain it,” he murmured. “You don’t have to do anything. Just let me be here for you.”
Y/n let out a shaky breath as she buried her face in his chest, her tears soaking into his shirt. “I hate feeling like this,” she admitted, her voice muffled. “Like I’m broken or something.”
“You’re not broken,” Max said firmly, pulling back just enough to tilt her chin up so she’d look at him. His blue eyes were filled with unwavering determination. “You’re strong, Y/n. Stronger than you know. What you’ve been through doesn’t define you. You’ve come so far, and I’m so proud of you for that.”
A small sob escaped her, and Max wiped a tear from her cheek with his thumb. “And when it feels too heavy,” he continued softly, “lean on me. You don’t have to carry it all by yourself. We’re a team, remember?”
She nodded, her grip on him tightening. “Thank you, Max. For always being here.”
He pressed a kiss to her temple, resting his cheek against her hair. “Always, liefde. You’re stuck with me.” He whispered softly, playing with the ring on her finger.
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yourusername some bts of life recently
maxverstappen1 GORGEOUS 🖤
francisca.cgomes IM OBSESSED WITH YOU
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yourusername MRS & MR VERSTAPPEN - 24/11/25.
maxverstappen1 couldn't be happier to call you my wife
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a/n
MERRY CHRISTMAS I HOPE YOU ALL GOT SPOILT
ALSO PRAYING FOR MY SWIFTIES IN MOURNING THIS IS FOR YOU
Hey everyone, I just wanted to pop on her and say thank you for all of the support you guys have given me since I first posted this fic. As a writer it is something that's very difficult and vulnerable to put your work out their and for this series to receive as much positive attention as it has gotten is nothing short of remarkable. Sorry for how long its taken for me to get this part out but i've just been struggling with the motivation to write it more or less cause I haven't wanted this series to end but it needs to one way or another. This part marks the official end of the series although I still will write and publish thank you aimee at some point as a bonus chapter since it doesn't really fit into the main post category. I will also at some point post the insta and other snippets that I came up with that just couldn't fit into the main story line of this series. Its sad that this is over but their will be many more things to come. As a bonus note part of the reason why I haven't been super active is i've been working on my book (wrote 10K+ words last week) which i'm super excited about. Also (again IK) the first part of my charles series should be up tomorrow so check that one out if you want :). I've kind of made the decision that this series and the charles series (with a short lando series in the future) exist in the same universe so i can keep max and y/ns story existing in that one aswell (purely because i can't let this series go). The first part of the charles series will be up tomorrow so check that one out if you want. I love you all so much and will miss this series so much :(.
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mrs-elsie-barnes · 7 months ago
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The Great Bucky Bake Off | Bucky Barnes x Reader | One shot - 3.5k words
An Avengers retreat takes a turn for the better when Bucky decides to eat your pot brownies… all of the pot brownies.
Warnings: 18+ sexual content. Drinking, casual drug use, Avengers wearing onesies for reasons, very flirty Bucky, p in v & oral sex. Rated R for ridiculous.
A/N: Happy birthday, Bucky Barnes!
Dividers by @firefly-graphics and @reveriesources
Masterlist | Bucky Barnes
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“Okay, ‘fess up, who ate all my brownies?” You turned to stare down the rest of the team, admittedly a little slow on your feet already.
The scene in the living room could only be described as chaotic. When Tony suggested he fly the team out to his remote cabin for “rest, recuperation and team building”, you had been fully on board. You were even more on board when he had you buy everyone fluffy animal onesies and you’d signed yourself up to a lifetime of being obsessed with your job the day you received an email to source as much weed, alcohol and Asgardian liquor as possible. Being the Avengers PA certainly had its perks. 
“Not me!” Steve admitted, far too quickly. “I didn’t eat them.” He shook his head, sending the dog ears on top of his onesie flopping about. 
You narrowed your eyes, “Well, you sure know something.” He looked the picture of innocence until he pulled Sam into the conversation. 
“Tell 'er Sam, we dunno nothin’ 'bout brownies." 
"Nuthin’” Sam shook his head too, his beer sloshing dramatically in its glass and wetting his hand. “My wings!” He steadied the bottle and brushed the stray liquid from the soft Eagle wings that made up the arms of his outfit.
“Have you spoken to James?” Natasha asked, leaning next to you and swiping crumbs from the plate, the last of the joint you’d shared placed delicately between her fingers. Somehow she managed to make the black onesie look very stylish, the arms rolled up to the silvery spiderwebs embroidered on the elbows and shoulders.
“James? Bucky?" 
Organising and taking part in retreats was your second favourite part of your job. Bucky took the top spot, miles ahead of everything else with his handsome, stubbled face and gruff but gentlemanly manner. Despite being part of the team for a while, he still kept to the background, staying out of the way and keeping quiet. He was always especially polite to you, holding the door and making sure you were included all the time, even if he never really stayed that long at Stark’s parties or Steve’s team building exercises.
Deep down you hoped it was because he saw you the same way you saw him, in your dreams, surrounded by little hearts. 
But life just wasn’t that kind, and you took his friendship gladly if that was all he could give. 
"Why would Bucky eat them, can he even get high?” You slid forwards, leaning on the counter and clutching the empty tray. 
“Bambi!” The four of you whipped around, surprised. Bucky bounced into the room with an enthusiasm that Steve hadn’t seen for decades. He also had chocolate on his cheeks and crumbs all down his front making him instantly guilty. You looked down at your onesie, light brown and speckled like a deer with tiny antlers on the hood. 
“Ha, yeah, like Bambi.” You giggled.
“And I’m Thumper!” He laughed back pulling the hood of his own pyjamas up and letting the long, grey, ears drop in front of his face. 
“Because you punch people?” You were momentarily confused, your brain refusing to work and instead focusing on the too tight fabric around Bucky’s arms. 
Behind you Sam coughed to cover his laughter and Natasha turned away, eyes full of mirth. 
“No! Thumper in Bambi!" 
"The girl rabbit?” Tony dropped down onto the huge sectional couch, surprisingly sober. Although you were sure that had more to do with promising Pepper to keep the cabin safe, rather than any personal choice. 
“Thumper is a boy.” Bucky insisted, eyes never leaving yours, his smile boyish and relaxed.
“How would you know?” Sam scoffed, leaning over the back of the couch, positively gleeful when Steve whispered that Bambi was also a boy and they fell back laughing together.
“Because, Sam, I’ve seen Bambi." 
"What?” Tony’s snort of derision didn’t go unnoticed, but you shot him a glare. This was possibly the most relaxed you’d ever seen Bucky, you wouldn’t be letting anyone, including your boss, spoil it. 
“I saw Bambi, in 1942, when it first came out,” he said proudly. 
“That’s right, I remember!” Steve jumped up, the Asgardian liquor cocktail that Natasha had rustled up earlier starting to take effect. “We went with your sisters, Rebecca cried when Bambi’s mom got shot and he was all alone." 
"Don’t spoil it, Stevie.” Bucky chastised, turning back to you as quickly as possible, “Have you seen it? Do you want to see it? We could see it?”
You nodded but he ignored you, continuing to talk as he got closer and closer, backing you into the kitchen island where the empty brownie tray dropped with a clang. 
"We can go, I’ll take you, Saturday, you can have as much popcorn and soda as you like.” His right hand swayed by his side, nudging closer to yours until your fingers touched. “What d'ya say?" 
Every fibre of your being screamed yes, just as you’d internally jumped for joy whenever he came by your office or handed you a coffee. But those times you were sober, calm, collected. Now you were four drinks and half a joint deep, floating off into the clouds. Professional judgement be damned. 
So you screamed "Yes!” outloud for once. 
He beamed, throwing his arms around you and squeezing just a little too tight until you squeaked. “Good, gonna be my best girl, my Bambi and I’ll be Thumper, buy you lots of popcorn and - oh - you’re really soft.” His hands found the back of your hood, pulling it up to sit on top of your head, letting it fall into your eyes. 
“Yeah it’s nice, right?” 
“S’fluffy.” Bucky’s thumbs brushed over your lips and down your neck, just inside the hood for a moment, before finding your shoulders and arms, rubbing the fuzzy material until you felt static build on your skin. “You’re really cute, y’know,” he whispered. “My own little Bambi.”
“I know.” You giggled back, picking up the joint again so you’d had something to do with your hands other than grip the front of your own outfit. 
“We didn’t smoke weed back in the day,” he said, conversationally, as if he didn’t have his hands in your pockets, pulling out your lighter and a lip balm. 
“No?” You took a drag, blowing the smoke to the side politely. 
“Did a lot of cocaine though, keep us awake on missions.” 
“Jesus. That’s…intense.” 
He nodded, watching your fingers against your lips, the little pout when you exhaled. 
“Can I?” 
“You ate a whole tray of brownies, Bucky, I don’t know if you should have anymore.” You extended your arm away from his grabby hands, hoping Natasha would come and take it away again, but to no avail. Instead, he lifted you onto the counter, pinned your leg down and followed the line of your arm to your outstretched hand. His lips brushed the backs of your fingers when he took the twist of paper into his lips. You waved him over and he held his breath as he returned to you, leaning in close and only exhaling when you pulled your hoods together, his nose against yours. 
Instinctively you inhaled, the rush of smoke and the smell of Bucky was overwhelming. You giggled again, trapping him against you with an arm around his neck and your legs around his waist. 
“Haven’t shotgunned since college.” You smiled, everything was so floaty and soft, fuzzy round the edges and so fucking warm. When did it get so warm? 
“You know with your floppy ears you could be-” your laughter bubbled up, cutting you off, “you could- sorry - oh my god - you could be Bucks Bunny!" 
Bucky did not seem to like that nickname as much as Thumper and told you so, pouting until you let him take another long drag. 
Time seemed to slow down between Bucky’s words, his hands, the way your glass of wine felt in your hand and the texture of his onesie. They were a good idea, so soft, good for petting, and Bucky was petting you too. His right hand was burning hot, even through the thick material, the pads of his fingers were calloused and rough, but the palm was soft. His left hand was so rigid, making a whirring noise. When you put your cheek to the artificial bicep it ticked pleasantly and you smiled, sighing and closing your eyes so you could concentrate on the joined sounds of Bucky’s heart and his prosthesis. In turn, Bucky held you gently, his metal fingers gentle on your back where he kept you snuggled in tight beside him. 
You were faintly aware of the ongoing chatter across the room, but it had faded away into background static. Your soul focus was on the way two of Bucky’s eyebrow hairs stuck out from the others, the little patch of grey forming in his stubble, the dark fleck of colour in his iris, the way his mouth looked saying your name. Oh shit, he’s saying your name, say something back! 
“Uh huh, yeah, uhm - maybe?” 
He tipped his head to the side, bunny ears flopping over too, and came closer again. His hands on your cheeks. “I’ll help you.” He leant forwards to rest his forehead against yours. 
“What’ya doing?” You tried to look at your forehead too but your eyes seemed to stop when they got to your eyelashes. Annoying. 
“Telling you what I’m thinking without saying it.” 
“Oh, is it working?” 
“You have to tell me that, silly!”
“I don’t think it’s working,” you whispered, loudly, and Natasha groaned from the sofa closest to the kitchen. 
“These two are out, done, nothing more for them,” she declared, waving her glass of red wine. 
A chorus of yes and agreed sounded from the remaining Avengers. Clint had already fallen asleep across one of the arm chairs, his beer dribbling onto his shirt from the neck of the bottle. Steve and Sam were deep in debate about the merits of Japanese whiskey over original scotch whisky and Tony was watching you both intently, his own glass of Glengoyne warming in his hand. The way the condensation formed under his fingers was fascinating, and you told Bucky as much, pulling him close to your cheek so you could get the same view. 
 “I concur, what did you do to my PA, Barnes?” He raised an eyebrow. “You’re a bad influence.” 
“She’s not you PA, she’s our PA. So she’s ours to influence,” he returned, proudly. 
Tony just continued to stare, pointedly, sipping his drink.
“What you gonna influence me to do, Buck?” You kicked your legs against the kitchen counter, a picture of innocence, and Tony laughed into his drink. 
But Bucky looked at you very seriously, bent to whisper in your ear, his breath tickling the back of your neck, his leg between yours, muscular and firm despite the fluffy clothes. 
“I’m gonna influence you to steal all of Stark’s M&Ms.” He tried to keep quiet but ended up choking out the end of his sentence around his own uncontrollable giggles. 
“Oh my god, you know he has me take the red ones out, says they’re smug. I have so many red M&Ms in my flat.” 
“Hey, that’s supposed to be a secret!” 
“Wanna eat all the red ones I brought with me?” 
Bucky helped you down from the counter and then across to the pantry where you’d stashed the huge bags of snacks and sweets when you first arrived. Despite Steve’s shouts of leaving some for everyone, you closed the door and sat down, ready to tuck in, wrappers and chocolate littering the floor while you dug about for your favourites. Bucky sat on the floor, encouraging you to sit between his legs, keeping his hands moving over the downy material of your onesie. 
“Okay, Bambi, what’ve you got for me?” 
Before you could even attempt to feed him anything, Steve wrenched the door open, hands on his hips. “I think you need to sleep this one off, not eat more chocolate,” he insisted, waving at you both to get back up. 
“Nuh-uh, Steve, not leaving.” Bucky tightened his arms around your waist and nuzzled into the back of your neck. “You smell like cake,” he exclaimed, happily, ignoring Steve. 
“Sam! Can you help me shift Bucky?!” 
“What about me?” You pouted, holding Bucky’s hands around your waist. 
“You need to go to bed as well.” Natasha extended her hand to yours in an effort to pull you off the floor, but Bucky’s grip was too strong. 
Eventually, it took everyone to wrestle you away from Bucky and bundle you into your room. In the corridor, Bucky howled his anger, breaking out of his room to easily find you in yours. 
“Bambi! There you are! Those awful hunters took you!” he cooed, squishing your cheeks again and kissing your pouty lips. Deep down your brain registered that this was your first kiss with him, that the man who had been consuming your thoughts for months was actually kissing you, willingly, and had broken a door so he could get close enough to do so. 
“Buh-kee, it was just Nat and Tony,” you drawled, your lips moving gently against his, reluctant to pull away. 
“I know, but I didn’t like it, wanna stay here with you.” 
Natasha, who was still trying to wrestle you into bed, gave up. “If you two stay in here together, and stay out of trouble, I won’t say anything.” She pointed at you both, eyebrows slightly raised. 
“Promise I’ll be good, Natty.” You fluttered your eyelashes at her dramatically, hoping to seem more trustworthy, but she just rolled her eyes. “Fine, stay here.” 
And then you were alone. 
You hesitated for a moment, watching the slow movement of Bucky’s face, fascinated by the way the muscles tightened minutely when he smiled. 
“I’m going to kiss you again now,” he stated, so formal that you broke out into another fit of laughter which made you hiccup and grab for his chest to steady yourself. 
He ignored you, bending his head and catching your lips with his, messy and rushed. 
“You taste real nice, you know?” Bucky licked across your lips again, swallowing your giggles. 
“You taste nice too, ate all my damn brownies.” With a long lick up his chocolate smeared cheek, you kissed him back, tangling your hands in his hair, trying to push the too hot, stuffy, fluffy, onesie off his shoulders. 
Bucky shrugged, and sat back to push the material down to his hips. Your eyes followed the movements of his hands, the way each inch of muscle revealed itself and, suddenly, you were hungry again, lunging forwards to bury your face between his pecs. Starting at his sternum, you kissed further and further down, shoving him backwards so you could climb on top of him, nipping and kissing bruises in a slow trail towards the end of the zipper. With a twist of his wrist, his cock sprang free from its confines and you bent down to lick the pearlescent precum leaking from his tip. 
“Fuck, Bambi.” He dropped his head back, one hand gripping the pillows and the other cupping the back of your head while you licked the head like an ice cream. “I’m not gonna last if you keep doing that.” 
You sat back on your heels, letting your fingers dance up and down his cock. “Feels soft,” you observed, thoughtfully, “Hard and soft at the same time, isn’t that funny?” 
Bucky couldn’t reply, he just laid back, watching the woman he’d pined after for months finally touch him the way he’d dreamed. It seemed surreal to be here, in your bed, with your hands all over his body like you owned it. Well, he thought, you did own it, you just didn’t really understand that yet. 
“I wanna touch you, too,” he insisted, “Can I?” His hands hovered over your clothes, so close to the zipper his fingertips brushed it when you breathed. You nodded and he lowered the metal slowly. 
Everything seemed slow now, even his voice, mumbling against your skin when he kissed down your breasts and took your nipple into his mouth. When he bit down a little, you giggled, his fingers tickling your sides, until you were both laughing again, half in and half out of your onesies, brains full of cotton wool and lust and nerves. 
“Hey, hey.” You tugged on his hair until he looked up, resting his cheek on your belly. “Can I tell you a secret?” 
“Yes, I’m so good with secrets!” He crawled back over your body, lowering his face close to yours. “You can whisper it or you can do it telepathically.” 
“I’m not telepathic, Bucky.” 
“Sure, like this.” He dropped his forehead to yours. “I know all your secrets now.” 
“No, you don’t!” You shoved him, but he didn’t move. 
“I do!”
“Tell me then.” 
His eyes roamed over your face, from your eyes to your lips as if he couldn’t help it. “You like me.” 
“Everyone likes you, Buck, you just think they don’t.” 
“No you like me, you want to step out with me, be my best girl.” He looked overjoyed to have revealed your secret before you could. “Am I right?”
“Don’t be mean to me, Barnes.” 
“I’m not being mean, I read your mind.” 
“You know what? Fuck off.” You shoved a second time, but he still didn’t move. 
“Wanna read my mind? I’ll help.” His forehead met yours again, sweat beading along your hairline from the stress of being so clearly seen by the man you’d been fantasising about for months. Before you could protest that only he could read minds while high, he was kissing you again. Slow and steady, his tongue nudging your lips gently until you opened for him, throwing your arms around his neck and letting the feeling of petal soft kisses take over you. 
He moved away only enough to take off his now too warm onesie, as well as your own, leaving you both naked and tangled together on the bed. He couldn’t get enough of touching you, he felt buoyant, happy in a way that he hadn’t for months, years, and he never wanted it to end. His fingers tingled when they touched you, though it was becoming harder and harder to stay in control. 
“Bucky, I want you,” you managed to squeak out between kisses, fumbling awkwardly between you both, hoping he understood.
"I want you too.” He nodded, bumping your heads together. 
You wriggled beneath him, guiding him between your legs until he was buried inside of you. 
“Damn it, Bambi, you feel soft everywhere.” His wide eyed expression made you smile.
“You’re kinda soft too, Bucky.” This side of him was one you’d been dying to see, unguarded and playful. 
He nuzzled your cheek and began to move, tentative at first and then faster. In your dreamy state, it was hard to know where you started and ended or how long you’d been locked together. 
You moved as one, slow and steady, enjoying the feel of each other’s warm skin and chocolate sweet kisses, breaking every now and again to stare at each other in awe. 
Bucky seemed to sense your approaching release before you did, speeding up when you fluttered around him, the erratic movement of his hips driving you closer and closer to the edge of the bed until you both tumbled out. The pillows and sheets followed soon after, dropping on you in an avalanche of goose down and brushed cotton. 
You both paused in shock, your giggles broken by your fall, but then he was pulling you back down on top of him and holding your hips steady. 
“Bucky, I wanna - I gotta -” Your hand drifted between you again to touch your sensitive clit, just a little more pressure and you could feel your orgasm building. The tightness of your pleasure started between your legs and radiated out to your toes, making them curl against the sheepskin rug beneath you. 
Bucky followed after you, unable to control himself from the onslaught of sensation your clenching heat provided. 
You woke the next day in a tangle of limbs and bedding, your back sore from sleeping on the floor all night and your brain fuzzy. Beside you, still with a smear of chocolate on his cheek, Bucky continued to sleep. 
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leclerc-hs · 1 year ago
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don't wake the kids - cl16
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pairing: charles leclerc x nanny!reader (fem) summary: in which you got his daughter to finally fall asleep but risk waking her up not too long later warnings: 18+, slight smut, oral (f-receiving), bad french (please correct me i was tired while writing this lmao), not proofread!!!! word count: 1608 author’s note: i think i’ll write more for them bc i like the idea of single dad charles LMAO. this was fun xoxoxo
PART 2
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
THERE WAS SOMETHING about Mr. Leclerc that always made you stare at him in admiration. Maybe it was the fact that he always excelled at everything he did. For instance, raising a daughter on his own couldn’t have been easy. Hell, merely spending a single night watching over his kid has you feeling thoroughly drained. So, when Charles came home to you sprawled along his couch with the TV on a low volume, he wasn’t surprised. In fact, the sight brought a grin to his lips. You were the absolute cutest thing he had ever seen. Aside from his own daughter of course.
You weren’t even aware of the impact you left on him and his daughter. There wasn’t a day where you weren’t mentioned by his daughter. She adored you, and he did too.
“Comment était-elle?” How was she?  His voice was deep as he dropped his keys on the table of the entry way table. “Fatiguée?” Tired?
You barely moved as he approached the room, too comfortable to even sit all the way up for him. His hands rest in the pockets of his dress pants as he leaned up against the arch of the living room, suit jacket slung over his shoulder, eyes never straying from yours. 
You felt yourself swallowing harshly at the sight of him. He’s so fucking hot. “Elle était un ange!” She was an angel! There was a soft glow of moonlight that seeped through the curtains, casting a gentle radiance on the room as you whispered those words. You were whispering, careful to not wake her in the next room over. But also, in attempt to hide the desire in your voice. It would be a complete lie if you said you didn’t find him attractive. If you didn’t think about him that way.
With a subtle exhalation, Charles gracefully moved away from the archway, making his way towards the couch. He lowered himself onto the couch beside you, his head finding a comfortable perch on the back cushions, a gentle smile gracing his features. His legs extended languidly, and the contours of his thigh muscles subtly asserted themselves through the delicate fabric of his dress pants.
Turning his head to look at you, “Would you mind staying in the spare room tonight?” 
His eyes, an enchanting shade of green, held you captive in a mesmerizing trance. Lost in their depths, his question became a distant echo, momentarily forgotten in the captivating allure of those verdant depths.
It wasn’t an abnormal question. At least, not anymore it wasn’t. You’ve been watching his daughter for months now and have occasionally crashed at his when it was too late at night. When you didn’t answer right away, lost in thought, Charles felt the need to wearily add an “I’m too tired to take you home.”
It’s not that you didn’t have your license, but you didn’t have a car. And because it meant more money, you always said yes. At least you always told yourself it was for the money. But it really was for all the times you got to see a shirtless Charles in the morning. His hair all disheveled, eyes full of sleep. The rasp in his voice. And also, the breakfast.
His hand swiftly dropped to your exposed thigh, the tennis skirt adorning your body doing little to cover you. He patted the area right above your knee softly for your attention, “Je suppose que tu n’as pas de vêtements; je vais te trouver quelque chose.” I assume you don’t have clothes; I’ll grab you something. The touch was so miniscule, so quick, that you could barely grasp the concept that it happened before he was already standing.
Although staying over wasn’t new, borrowing his clothes was.
You found yourself unable to speak as he stood from the couch and made his way to his room. The air was charged with a delicate tension. You were convinced it was the suit that had you stumbling for words, or maybe the fact you haven’t had sex in months and Charles is just that fucking hot, and in front of you, looking at you, touching you.
“J’espère que cela est assez bon.” I hope these are good enough. Bathed in the gentle luminescence of the room, Charles gazes down at you with an intensity the captures the essence of the moment. In his hands, he holds a neatly folded pile of clothes, extending them toward you with a certain grace. A faint, sleepy smile graces your lips as you accept them. 
With a languid elegance, you begin to rise from the comfort of the couch, only to find Charles extending his hand toward you. His fingers confidently entwine with yours, pulling you up. Although, it seems Charles underestimated his strength because you are sent flying to your feet, awkwardly tripping in the process. But before you can make a total fool of yourself, Charles is slipping an arm around your waist, holding you to his chest.
You can feel your cheeks redden in embarrassment, “Je suis tellement désole.” I’m so sorry.
You feel Charles laugh reverberate in his chest, making you more alert of just how close you two were. “Ne sois pas désolée.” Don’t be sorry.
In that suspended moment, time seemed to stretch, creating a timeless place where you and Charles were encapsulated. Locked in a shared gaze, the world outside this intimate bubble ceased to exist. Uncertainty lingered in the air, an unspoken question hovering between you two. Charles’ firm hold persisted, grounding the moment in the tangible warmth of his touch. 
As the stillness enveloped you, his eyes were fixated on your flushed cheeks, a canvas painted in hues of warmth. The intensity of his gaze conveyed an admiration that transcended words. To Charles, the sight of your blushing complexion was nothing short of captivating – an endearing revelation of vulnerability that only heightened your allure.
“Tellement jolie,” So pretty. The words were so soft. Barely audible if it wasn’t for your proximity. It was as if he didn’t even know he said them out loud.
You felt frozen while trying to decide if this was a dream or not. But when the pads of Charles thumbs made way to your face, tracing your bottom lip slowly, you knew you were fucked.
“Est-ce que je peux?” Can I?
You wanted to scream. Yes! You felt your stomach churning with need. But externally, you were calm. You needed to be quiet.
You made the move to nod your head when his lips collided with yours. It was slow and tentative at first. Like he was trying to test the waters. He pulled away for a moment, eyes staring into yours once again, as if he needed to make sure you were okay with this.
But as soon as he saw your lips draw into a smile, he knew he was fucked.
The second time your lips met it was feverish and messy. All tongue and no air. The clothes that he handed you previously, now lay on the floor in a messy pile, your hands sliding around his neck. You both go tumbling down onto the couch.
He groaned quietly into your mouth – a sound as if the taste of you was something he craved his whole life. His hands dropped from your jaw, closing around your neck, as you felt him push your further into the couch cushion with the weight of his body.
“J’ai besoin de toi,” I need you.  You managed to slip the words out, your fingers trailing through his hair on the back of his head.
Before you had the chance to press your lips back together, he was pulling away, leaving you breathless and a little confused until his hands dropped to the waistband of your skirt. His fingers shoving their way in and pulling them down, your underwear being yanked off in the process. His gaze met yours once more, filled with anticipation and eagerness.
“Tu as l’air tellement putain de bien comme ça.” You look so fucking good like this.
Like this. Spread out and beneath him. Completely bare and whimpering for him. 
You could hear him curse to himself as he draped your leg over his shoulder, seeing how wet you already were. 
The first drag of his tongue on you was enough to make your back arch instantly. He groaned, his nose brushing against your clit as he dipped his tongue inside of you. Every dip of his tongue sent you bucking your hips harder against him. And he loved it. 
With every stoke of his tongue, your fingers fisted his hair tighter. You began to buck your hips, so close to reaching your orgasm, but he denied. His hands were quick to push your hips down onto the couch. He wanted to hear you beg. 
“Charles,” you sighed softly.
“Hm?” You didn’t even have to look at him to know he was smirking. His tongue was placing slow licks to your clit, light enough to keep you right on the edge.
“S’il te plaît.” Please.
Charles was back sucking on your clit in less than a second, his hands sliding up to your covered breasts, squeezing them. He moaned into your pussy, the sound enough to send you spiraling over the edge. You gripped onto anything that was near and placed it over your face, trying to cover the moans that were escaping your lips.
Your body shook as you pressed the pillow into your face. He licked you as you came down and didn’t stop until you were practically shoving him off.
His lips were glossy and puffy, coated with you. A smirk on his face as he stood up and looked down at you completely flushed on his couch, half bare. You looked at the bulge of his cock, pressing against the seams of his dress pants, and then back up at his eyes.
“Bedroom?”
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lovemomhatepolice · 4 months ago
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Hey babessss could you do a drew starkey x reader’s first time together… smut? Love yo<3
31’ - drew starkey
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pairing: drew starkey x fem!reader
warnings: first time sex, sexual overtones, age difference (Drew is 31, reader is 21), established relationship, oral sex, unprotected sex (PROTECTED YOURSELF), drunk!drew, drunk!reader, blowjob, a tiny bit of fingering, English is my second language!
belonging: NO NUT NOVEMBER!
type: totally smut with plot, a little bit of fluff (because drew is a cutie pattotie)
word count: 5k
summary: happy birthday beautiful man. there can't be a better gift, right?
more content: drew starkey masterlist, obx masterlist
You nervously adjusted the shoulder strap of your black dress, once again that evening. At the tenth you stopped counting. You were terribly annoyed by its material, its length, well today just everything stressed you out. You didn't know why yourself, and you were angry with yourself, because you were supposed to act as unsuspecting as you could - and it didn't work out.
"Drew, are you ready?" you finally asked, exiting the bathroom after spending a long time in it.
Today was his 31st birthday, which was no small feat. After 30, life starts to get more serious, even for someone like Drew.
Drew heard you open the door and from his seat in the living room he could see you coming out of the bathroom. He swallowed hard as he looked at you - you were as incredibly beautiful as you are every day. But there was something about you today - the way you walked, the way you smiled at him, the way you wore that dress - he couldn't take his eyes off you. In fact, for a few seconds he stopped functioning at all.
“Yes, I'm ready,” he finally said, getting up from the couch.
"Great," You smiled at him and picked up your purse, which was lying on a cabinet in his hallway.
You didn't live together, it was still too serious a step in a relationship you had only been in for less than two months. Despite the fact that you had known each other practically all your lives, by the fact that both of you lived near each other and you were friends with his sister Brooke, your relationship progressed very slowly and you were both probably happy about it. Finally, in such a fast-paced world, you could at least relax for a while and enjoy each other longer.
He walked over to you and grabbed your hand, interlocking his fingers with yours. You were so perfectly fitting in his hand - and he would never get enough of that sensation. A part of him also just liked the way it looked; how he would tower over you and your small hand would disappear in his bigger one.
“Ready to go?” he then asked again, bringing your hand to his lips to kiss it.
"I should be the one to ask you that," you laughed lightly, blushing from the tenderness. Drew was always like that. He always took care of everyone, tried to make no one feel bad. And for that you loved him.
"My birthday boy."
Drew pulled you closer to him and threw his free arm around your shoulders. He began to lead you toward the front door. “Are you sure you're not the birthday girl?”
He let go of your hand so he could open the door, and then opened it for you, holding the other at your back. He teased you. “You're just as excited as I am, or even more so.”
"Oh, because in the end I'm the one who can take you out to dinner and pay for everything," you said, sticking your tongue out in his direction as he closed his apartment.
Drew was already like that - he never let you pay for any of your dates or food. And even when you had to split it in half (which he didn't agree to very readily), he continued to try to wring it out somehow.
He laughed lightly as you headed to the elevator together. He pressed the button and turned to face you, his back leaning against the elevator wall. He lightly combed his hair with his hand, on which his inseparable ring.
“We've been over this before,” he said, still looking at you with a goofy grin. “I won't let you pay anything on my birthday. And in fact, I'd best not let you pay for anything. And ever,” he snarked.
"And that you can not allow, and I'll do it anyway," you laughed and took the lip gloss out of your purse. You turned toward the elevator mirror and started applying it back.
He smiled, looking at you. The man pulled away from the elevator wall and walked closer to you. He then grabbed your hips from behind and pulled you close, gently trailing his thumbs along your sides. Because of the large height difference, he bent down slightly, resting his chin on your shoulder.
“Stop being so stubborn,” he teased in a light tone, placing a light kiss on your head.
"You're the one who should stop being so stubborn," you muttered, putting the lipstick back in your purse.
You turned toward him and put your hands on his white shirt, gently correcting it. "It's your birthday and I want you to just let yourself be pampered."
He chuckled, his arms then moving around your waist while he looked at you.
“You’re the one that deserves to be pampered,” he said honestly and leaned his forehead against yours for a moment, placing a light kiss on it.
"You too. Big grown man" you laughed playing with the button of his shirt.
Drew looked unearthly today. Every day he looked like he was created by angels, but today? Today he outdid himself. White shirt, black pants and matching jacket. Plus his hair, which was now a little longer... he looked like a god. „You’re thirty one today, that's no even a joke anymore.”
He also giggled when he listened to you. He loved the feeling of your hands playing with the button of his shirt. It was such a random and small thing, but it was still soothing. He enjoyed those little moments between you. When it was just you and the whole world was suddenly silent.
“Don't remind me,” he said with a small giggle, and a smile appeared on his lips as he watched you. “I feel old.”
"But you have ten years younger girl, it makes you younger," you laughed and grabbed his hands, which he had on your waist.
He giggled, well aware of this. Well, your age difference was something too big and unusual for many. But he didn't care, it was nobody's business. It was only yours, and you felt the best you could.
“Somehow it worked out that way, huh?” he asked with a smile and moved one of his hands to grab your chin, letting his thumb gently brush your lower lip.
"Oh don't touch or you'll smear my lip gloss" I laughed, feeling his thumb on my lip.
He chuckled again and shook his head, but his eyes were locked on your lips. The way they just begged him to lean in and kiss them.
“It’s not like I haven’t smeared it before,” he said in a teasing tone while he continued to caress your bottom lip with his thumb.
"That's why I had to correct it,"you laughed, looking into his beautiful blue irises, which were now, as always, laughing.
"Don't exaggerate," he laughed and leaned slightly over you, smacking your lips.
You smiled into his mouth, returning the kiss lightly. Now his lips were also shining from your pink gloss, but before you could tell him, the elevator doors opened on the right floor.
You took his hand and intertwined your fingers together, walking out of the elevator in front of him. You headed toward the exit of the building, getting more and more excited about the party you had organized. Drew trusted you and let you lead the way, but as soon as you spotted your present driver parked in front of Drev's apartment building, you stopped for a moment.
"Wait, i have to blindfold you" you said and took out a blindfold from your purse so he couldn't see anything.
In the end, Drew thought the two of you were going to dinner. But in fact you were taking him to his favorite club in Charleston, where all his family and friends were waiting for him.
"And how am I supposed to go the car without seeing anything?” he asked with a smirk.
„I’ll help you dumbass”
He laughed as he listened to you and allowed you to put the blindfold on him.
“I hope you don’t leave me stranded somewhere,” he said with teasing tone, poking your ribs.
You bent under his finger as he stabbed you in the ribs and laughed. “Oh this is just my dream. To leave you here alone blindfolded.” you muttered and took out some more headphones from the purse. “You can't hear either, forgive me darling,” you added and put the headphones over his ears, kissing him lightly on the lips.
“I've lost all my senses because of you,” he muttered, letting himself be led toward the car. “I knew it a long time ago, but to do it in a literal way. Wow. I didn't expect that.” You snorted with laughter and slowly opened the car door for him, being careful not to hit him, because compared to a low car, Drew was a giant and could quickly get a bump.
You got in after him and greeted your driver, who already knew the address well, so he only smiled in your direction. After a while, you set off for your chosen location, which was not that far away, but you had to drive a bit. And you knew very well that if you both had a drink with Drew, you would neither return as a driver nor on your feet.
Drew instinctively caught your hand and intertwined your fingers, playing with your nails, which you had freshly done. You smiled under your breath and laid your head on his shoulder.
~~~ You have already entered the club without much obstruction, however, further without taking off either the armband or the headphones. You led him out into the middle, letting his friends and family surround him, until you finally gave them a sign that they could shout surprise, when at the same time you took off his headband and headphones at the same time. “Surprise!” you exclaimed along with the others, looking from the sidelines at his reaction.
Drew stood for a moment, as if enchanted. Then he began to look around him, and when he saw all his loved ones, it made his heart warm. Each of them on this one day decided to come and make the man's birthday even better.
You smiled sincerely in his direction, continuing to be surprised that it all worked out the way you wanted. Everyone was there - the entire OBX cast, Odesa, his hometown friends and immediate family. “Surprise?” you asked, laughing lightly at your boyfriend.
Drew tried to say something, but continued to be too surprised. “I-wow…” he laughed under his breath, walking a little closer to you. “Really, thank you.”
His smile continued to grow as he took in the sight of so many familiar faces around him.
“The best things for the best boyfriend,” you muttered, throwing your arms around his neck and pulling him slightly closer to you, smacking your lips. You must have distracted him a bit before his mother managed to blow out the candles on the cake she had prepared.
He laughed again as he wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you close. He placed a gentle kiss on your cheek, then turned to look at his mother, who was now standing in front of him with a birthday cake.
“How the hell did you manage to keep this a secret from me?” - he said, and everyone laughed.
“I guess we never know,” you said and wanted to move away from him so he could stand by the cake himself, but he cut you off.
But before you had a chance to take more than a step away from him he grabbed your wrist, preventing you from moving away.
“I want you here,” he muttered in a low tone only you could hear.
His mother set the cake down in front of him, and everyone started singing “Happy Birthday.” Drew’s eyes sparkled with happiness, and you couldn’t help but admire how his face lit up in the glow of the candles.
When the song ended, he took a deep breath and blew out the candles, laughter and cheers erupting from the crowd. You clapped along, feeling proud of your surprise.
“Alright, let’s cut this cake!” Drew said, reaching for the knife. He looked around at everyone, then back at you, his smile softer now. “I can’t believe you all did this for me. This means so much.”
You squeezed his hand, feeling a swell of emotion. “You deserve it, Drew. You’re amazing.”
As the cake was served, you took a moment to glance around the room. Friends were laughing, drinks were flowing, and the energy was electric. This was what you had hoped for—a celebration of Drew, surrounded by the people who loved him most.
Once everyone had their slices, Drew turned to you, a slice of cake in hand. “Here, let me feed you.”
You giggled, opening your mouth playfully as he brought the fork to your lips. The sweet flavor burst in your mouth.
The two of you sat somewhere in a corner, eating a cake together. Around you sat some of his friends and family, the rest were either getting ready to wish him well and give him a gift, another part was already standing at the bar, starting the celebration.
“Give me your jacket, I'll go put them away in the locker room, and you take care of the guests here.” you said to him, finishing your piece of cake.
"Don't be long," he muttered and gave you a small kiss on the forehead.
“I promise,” you muttered and went to the locker room, putting your jackets away together. In the meantime, his sister Mackalaya accosted you, giving you a tight squeeze. You had known her all my life, too, so it was great to see her again.
"How are you? How are you guys doing?"
Meanwhile, Drew continued to chat and talk to his friends sitting around him, but his eyes were continuously drawn to the direction where you had left moments ago.
“It really couldn't be better,” you smiled sincerely at her. “Drew is so wonderful, we are so damn happy.”
She chuckled happily at your answer, nodding her head with a smile.
"It's lovely to hear, you are just perfect for each other," Mackalaya said and glanced in her brother's direction for a second, seeing how he kept looking toward the locker room, waiting for you to return.
“We may come to you soon, after Drew finishes recording,” I said, squeezing her hand. “I can't wait to see Liliana.”
You saw Drew stand from the table and head to the bar with the others. You laughed under your breath as your gazes met together again and Mackalaya no longer held you.
“Looks like the party is really getting started now! Should we join them?”
She then looked back at you and nodded her head with a smirk.
“I think it’s our cue to join them,” she said, then grabbed your arm and led the way toward the bar counter.
As you approached, you could hear snippets of Drew’s conversation, his laughter ringing out like music. He caught your eye again, and that familiar warmth spread through you. He gestured for you to come closer, his smile broadening.
He moved forward slightly, stretching his arm and grabbing you by the hip, pulling you against him until you were standing between his legs.
“What did you order?” you asked, glancing at the bartender, who was preparing various drinks and grabbed the menu in your hand and looked for something for yourself.
Drew leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear. “I ordered a round of mojitos. They’re the best here,” he said, a playful glint in his eye. You could feel the excitement buzzing around you, the energy of the party enveloping both of you.
“Then I'll take the same too,” you muttered and handed it to the bartender, who added another mojito to his queue.
Drew rested his chin on your shoulder and let out a low chuckle as you felt him inhale the scent of your hair.
“How do you feel?” you asked, looking over his shoulder.
"Happy," he managed to utter before he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, his nose brushing against your skin. "I just want to enjoy the moment. Care to join me?”
The way he looked at you made your heart race, and you couldn’t help but smile. “I’m in. Let’s make it a night to remember.”
The whole evening passed in a wonderful atmosphere. Everyone danced, drank drinks, talked to a lot of people and you all just enjoyed being with Drew on his birthday. The man also seemed to be in awe. He had a smile on his lips the whole time and didn't leave your side for a moment. Whether you were dancing or he was getting a gift from his friends, you always had to be next to him. And you didn't mind at all.
As the night progressed, the air filled with excitement. You found yourself lost in the rhythm of the party, the way he pulled you closer during a slow song, his hands resting on your waist, made your heart flutter.
“Best birthday ever,” he said, his eyes sparkling when he looked at you. Drew started getting slightly more and more clingy with you.
“Can’t help it,” he murmured, a playful smile on his lips as he leaned in.
He pressed soft, lingering kisses along your neck, sending delightful shivers down your spine. Each gentle touch felt electrifying, and you couldn’t suppress the smile spreading across your face.
Drew tightened his grip, making it clear he wasn’t going to let you go anytime soon. As the music pulsed around you and laughter filled the air, you knew this was a night you both would remember—one full of warmth, connection, and perhaps a bit of sweet spontaneity.
You turned toward him and didn't have to wait long for the boy to attach his lips to yours. He didn't give a damn that all his immediate family and friends were around. He knew very well that he was in a trusted circle and no one would judge him or put anything on the Internet. He felt safe here, and with you in his arms, it was even better.
Drew pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against yours. “I’ve been wanting to do that all night,” he admitted, a playful grin on his lips. There was a light in his eyes that made your heart skip a beat.
Your kiss became more and more intense, but no one paid much attention to you. And even if they did - they didn't expect how great the feeling was growing in both of you. Suddenly you felt his hands on your buttocks as they gently clamped down on them, and you laughed, moving your lips slightly away from his to look into his eyes. This time there was something more intense in his gaze than usual. You knew that you both felt the same way.
His breath was slightly labored from the kiss, and his grip on your buttocks became firmer as he pulled you even closer so that you were practically flush against his body.
There was a hint of hunger in his gaze, a need for more than just a kiss.
“I want to go home,” he murmured into your mouth, smacking it again. “They won't even notice.”
“Are you sure?” you asked, a smile tugging at your lips. “What about all the fun?”
Drew grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “I just want us to end this evening.”
The way he looked at you, filled with that intensity you both had shared all night, made your heart race. “Alright, let’s do it,” you said, a thrill of anticipation bubbling inside you.
You did not wait any longer, you both knew very well how the evening would end. You left the club unnoticed, leaving all your gifts behind. The club was closed tomorrow anyway, so you could easily return for them. You waited a while for your boyfriend, who struggled for a while to find your coats, but fortunately it didn't take long. Drew grabbed your hand and you went outside, immediately seeing your driver.
“I can’t wait to get you home,” he whispered, making your pulse quicken. You exchanged a look filled with promise, knowing that this night was just beginning.
~~~ When you arrived at his apartment, you couldn't keep your hands off each other. Drew had barely closed the door behind him, and he already had you in his arms and was leading you toward his bedroom, showering you with kisses all over your face. You were both laughing, which was typical of you, even at a time like this.
Drew gently laid you down on his bed, letting you take another moment to think about whether you really wanted this. Oh, how much you wanted it, and you knew very well that he did too. This was a big step in your relationship, but you knew you were safe in his hands and merely nodded, reaching up to his shirt collar to pull him close, bringing your lips together again in a kiss.
Your hands wandered in his hair, his all over your body. It wasn't long until you felt yourself starting to get wet from the rush of these emotions. You didn't shy away one bit anymore - you were well aware that your first time would be after alcohol, but you didn't doubt one bit that you wanted it. And so did Drew, whose eyes sparkled more beautifully than ever.
Drew’s touch was skilled and urgent, his hands roaming across your body as he drank in your every move. You could see the desire burning in his eyes, as he gently pushed you back down on the bed, his gaze never leaving yours.
"Fuck" he muttered, breathing heavy. "You're so beautiful"
You sighed, pulling him closer to you with your hips. You could feel that he was also already aroused. His still clothed cock fit perfectly against your body. You both silently cried out for the desired pleasure to come already.
He leaned down slightly, his lips trailing over your neck, his mouth hot and wet against your skin. He left a trail of kisses along your throat, his breath coming out in a warm plume against your skin.
"You feel so good," he said, his voice thick with growing need.
“Drew,” you muttered, moving your hips, feeling how hard he was getting with each passing second. You pulled away from him slightly and nimbly made him bottom out this time. You didn't wait a second longer. With trembling hands, you grabbed his belt buckle and tried to get him off. “Oh, someone is impatient,” the man laughed huskingly, helping you get rid of his belt.
Then his pants flew down and you could see his entire member, which was already standing in his boxers. This sight was bloody painful. You moved your finger over it, which made Drew moan, dropping his head onto his soft mattress. “Baby,” he muttered, looking at you with slightly closed eyes as you removed his boxers and his cock came free.
He was huge. You had seen him in passing before, but this was your first time. And you had never been so excited in your life as you were now.
You took him in your hand and ran your thumb over his pre-cum. Damn, it was such an arousing sight. You quickly replaced your hand with your mouth, taking him all the way into your mouth. He could barely fit inside them, but you wanted to be the best for him. You sucked on him, moving your head up and down, slightly causing yourself a gag reflex. You both giggled, however, you did not stop. You saw that Drew was getting closer and closer with every move you made, so you added your hand and squeezed his testicles. You could have sworn that this made him even closer.
“[Y.N], fuck,” he muttered, stroking your hair. Drew didn't take the initiative at all, giving you full control.
You felt his penis begin to pulsate in your mouth, so you sped up your movements even more. You took him deeper, licking and supporting yourself with your hand. Soon, with a loud exhale, Drew reached inside your mouth, and your throat was flooded with his cum.
It didn't occur to you to do this before, but now you swallowed it all with full confidence, moving your mouth up and down for a while more, helping him come down from his orgasm.
“You're wonderful,” he muttered, pulling you against him. You sat on his naked lap, connecting your lips at once. Drew could feel himself on your tongue, but it didn't bother him at all.
He quickly threw off your dress and attached his lips to your neck. You felt that dark marks would appear in these places the next day, but you didn't give a damn. You wanted the whole world to know that you loved each other. That you loved each other in this way. That you were all his and he was all yours.
Without warning, Drew pressed his lips to your one breast, squeezing the other. He swirled his tongue around your nipple, making you even wet your entire thong, which you were wearing at the time. With an audible smack, he moved to the other nipple, leaving hickeys around it.
“Drew, I need you, I'm begging,” you muttered, pushing him away from your chest. You were as wet as you had ever been, and the man's hungry panting increased that even more. Your words were like a command to him. He immediately changed your position, so that now you were lying under him on the mattress and waiting for him to finally be inside you. “You are so beautiful,” he muttered, placing kisses all over your belly, then your thighs, until he kissed your still covered clit.
You allowed him to slip off your panties and the sensation you felt when his mouth attached to your pussy was indescribable.
“How beautiful,” he muttered, curling eights with his tongue around your sensitive bud. “How wet.”
"Drew, stop teasing," I muttered, shrinking your feet behind his back.
He knew what he was doing with his tongue. He perfectly pressed, sucked and teased your clit, driving you closer to the end with each passing second. Without much warning, he put his finger inside your pussy and began to move it nimbly, hitting that point. "Fuck," you moaned, touching his hair. The boy looked at you, not stopping to caress it with his tongue and finger, then added another, stretching you accordingly.
“Please,” you muttered, feeling that you were close to orgasm. “Drew.”
The boy sped up his movements, pressing more with his tongue against your clit, which was already sensitive enough. You felt a pleasant sense of fulfillment as you reached on his fingers and tongue. “How fucking good you taste,” he muttered, returning kisses to you. You surrounded his neck with your arms, kissing him imprecisely. You threw your legs around his hips, moving your naked pussy along his length, wanting him to enter you already.
“There, wait, baby,” he said, smacking you on the corner of your mouth, ”Do you have condoms?”
You shook your head negatively, but at that moment you didn't give a damn. All you wanted was him inside me, just that. “It's okay, I'll take the morning-after pill,” you muttered, moving your hips, begging him for one thing.
“All right,” he groaned and grabbed his length. He touched you with his tip and you trembled because of it. You relaxed slightly, letting him enter your pussy. “How tight” he muttered, entering you slowly with his entire length. “Perfect.”
Drew moved inside you slowly at first, but seeing that it was only giving you pleasure, he sped up. You both looked at the spot where your bodies joined and smiled at each other. Oh, you have been waiting for this apparently for a very long time.
By how horny you were tonight and how much you were looking forward to it, it didn't have to be long until you both felt you were getting close to fulfillment.
You bucked your hips closer to him, wanting to be as close as possible and to feel him as much inside you as possible. Drew grabbed your hips and instinctively started moving even faster and hitting your sensitive spot each time.
“You're wonderful,” you muttered, combing through his slightly wet hair.
The boy only smiled at you and clung to you with his lips, breathing loudly. And with that moment you both came. You a moment earlier than he did. But when you felt his cum spilling inside your cunt and suddenly it was pleasantly warm there, you moaned.
When it was over, Drew slumped against you, tired but smiling like never before. You also smiled broadly, hugging him to your chest. He was still inside you and you could feel him slowly stop being hard, but it felt too good to end it. “I love you,” he muttered, placing a kiss on your sternum, between your breasts.
“I love you too, terribly,” you muttered, combing his hair from his forehead.
You kissed him in the same place, momentarily holding your lips there. “Happy birthday, sunshine.” The boy lifted his head slightly from your body and kissed you on the lips. “I couldn't think of a better birthday.”
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A/N: I know! I know there was supposed to be another chapter, but with Drew turning 31 today, I couldn't resist writing something related to him ;p hope you liked it and that I didn't make any mistakes (there may be a change of narration somewhere, because at the beginning I wrote it in the first person ahahh)
please do not copy and translate my works! in case of any issues related to this - I invite you to discuss privately :)
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fandomlit · 7 months ago
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the right to jealousy (draco malfoy x reader)
requested by anon "Hiii if it's not too late I saw you were looking for Harry potter requests!! If you write for Draco please do prompts 1, 31, 36, and 20 where he's jealous but doesn't want to admit it to reader and then just kisses her? If you don't write for Draco just ignore.. thank if you do!"
warning swearing, aggressive verbal argument
o hey i do writing prompts,, those used in this imagine will be in bold
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gif cred belongs to @draco-fuckingmalfoy
"where have you been?"
you jumped, not expecting to hear a voice so late at night when entering the slytherin common room. placing a hand on your heart, you looked around with an annoyed expression to see draco malfoy sitting in one of the chairs, not even looking at you.
"why do you care?" you sighed, not forgetting how he had brushed you off earlier that day when you tried to talk to him in potions. draco had been rather crass with you lately; ignoring you in lessons, seemingly fuming every time he caught your eye, and making sneering comments at you when you managed to get him to say something. you were getting fed up with it; a week of sass from the guy you were crushing on had you grumpy in every lesson.
he finally looked up at you from the paper he'd been reading, leaning back and crossing his arms over his chest. "i am a prefect, you know."
you rolled your eyes. "how could i ever forget.." you started to make your way to the girls dormitories when you heard his footsteps approaching behind you.
"i asked where you've been."
you turned around to find him much closer than you'd expected, his jaw clenched and his expression positively livid. if you weren't so mad and confused with him, you would've found his anger achingly attractive. "what do you care, draco? you seem to take no interest in where i am any other hour of the day!"
"i don't care!" he spoke defiantly, but his own fury betrayed him. "i couldn't care less if you were out there with potter or whoever the hell in the middle of the night. but as your prefect, i ought to know!"
you blinked in surprise at the accusation of you being with someone. "what does it matter if i was with someone not, draco? do you just think of me as some common lass who sneaks out to get her-" the realization dawned on you mid sentence, and you watched carefully as draco's jaw clenched, as if he were biting back another shout amidst your working mind. "are you jealous?"
"oh come on, i see the way you've been looking at him," draco accused, dodging your question. "looking at him like everyone else does--like potter owns the castle and everyone in it. like he's some hero to our ranks. and i've seen the way he's been looking at you, too." before you could ask what the could possibly mean, he crossed his arms again and spat, "so was it him that was worth sneaking out for?"
you scoffed at him, shaking your head. "you're mad! you're deluding yourself into thinking i was out with someone because you're looking for something to be upset about!"
"i've said it once and i'll say it again: i don't care."
"everything about you right now screams otherwise," you scoffed again.
"just tell me who you were with and this is all over!" he spat, opening his arms in a frustrated manner. "i am a prefect, y/n, you have to tell me."
"get a new excuse!" you demanded. he just glared at you and you glared right back into his darkened grey eyes. you let your words ring for a moment before you asked again with less ferocity, "draco, are you jealous?"
"you're slow today," he spoke quickly and ferociously, taking your face in his hands and practically crushing your lips to his. despite the quickness and pent up aggression in the kiss, it was desperately satisfying to let go of the argument to throw your arms around his shoulders, letting days worth of tension melt into his mouth.
after a few quick, hot moments, the kisses turned slower and longer as the anger that began the exchange simmered, and all that was left was the passion that underlined everything between the two of you. when you both pulled apart, draco surged forward one last time for a long, hard kiss before he finally opened his eyes. you were slower to open yours as he dragged his hands your arms to slip to your waist, his face still only a mere inch from yours.
"better than whoever you were with?" he asked lowly, giving you a cocky half-smirk despite his hot breaths still hitting your lips.
you rolled your eyes but your former anger didn't resurface. "considering i was just at a private astronomy lesson with professor sinistra, definitely." the admission made him close his eyes for a moment. "yeah, feel a little stupid now?"
"no," he was quick to answer, grey gaze immediately locking with yours again. "now that you're mine.." you raised your eyebrows at him but didn't interrupt, "i have the right to feel whatever the hell kind of jealousy i want."
"so you admit it, then?"
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marthawrites · 11 months ago
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Could you write smut for Aemond targaryen with the prompts 17,40,44,47,53 and 54 maybe with a targaryen reader? Just something gentle, sweet and soft <3 btw I’m talking abt this prompt list
I absolutely can! Apologies for making you wait since January for this. I hope you're still around to see (and, fingers crossed) enjoy it!
"Vok" (Perfect)
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Aemond Targaryen x sister reader
Word count: 2.6k+
About: You and Aemond pledged to each other long ago. Tonight, beneath the blanket of darkness, you revel in each other's adoration.
Includes: SMUT. Featuring brother x sister incest, Aemond is soft but only to his little sister, dirty talk, female masturbation, guided masturbation, praise, unprotected vaginal sex, and a splash of breeding kink
Note: Hello lovely reader! It's been a hot minute since I've wrote Aemond - the posters and trailers have me going (affectionately) insane! Triple warning: this fic is brother x sister targcest. If you do not like that KEEP ON SCROLLING. This is my first time writing this dynamic. Reader is implied to have silver hair, pale skin, and purple eyes. Everything else is up to you! As always, I hope you enjoy this fic! ❤️
-
To the realm, Aemond Targaryen was the cruel prince. Aloof, stoic, unforgiving.
To the realm, he was an ambitious and willful young man who rode Vhagar, the largest and oldest dragon in the world–the same dragon who helped Queen Visenya conquer Westeros.
To the realm, he was the second son of King Viserys. And, as such, would play the game of nobility by putting duty above love–marrying outside of his Targaryen lineage to seed dragons further into the world.
To you, his little sister and second daughter of King Viserys, he was your protector. 
Your secret.
A poorly kept secret in some corners of the castle; nosy servants and their obnoxious fucking tendencies. But, with Aemond’s less than idle threats about cutting the tongue out of anyone’s throat who would speak about it, it ended up being a well-kept secret.
The second son and second daughter of the Dragon King; who better to love, and cherish, and pledge to, than each other?
Aemond would sooner die than see you marry off to some lowly lord of a “great” House. You were the blood of Old Valyria. Everyone–no matter their feats–was lowly in comparison to you. And you, his sweet sister, deserved only the best.
Barely a year separated your ages. Neither of you remembered a life without the other.
Long before you gave your maidenhead to your brother you gave him your heart. And your heart he held.
-
The night was late. These dark hours were some of the only unadulterated times you had together. Aemond kissed you slowly, passionately, gently stroking along your cheeks with his thumbs as he did. You were tangled in his bed together. You, stripped down to only your shift, and him, stripped down to only his sleep trousers. One of your shift’s thin straps kept sliding down your shoulder, and each time it did Aemond’s warm mouth kissed over the smooth lovely skin. You panted soft sounds–each feminine simper jolting right to his cock–as he lavished you in affection. 
“You’re kissing me silly, lēkia (brother). My head feels full of bees and I’m hot. So, so hot,” you whispered against his kiss-swollen mouth. “Will you not feel for yourself?” He hadn’t yet made a move to touch you where you really, truly, wanted him; something that had you whining and pouting. While his hands alternated between stroking your face and groping your body–waist, hips, thighs–yours were buried in his hair. It was all down and free. The silken sheet of it spilled over his shoulders, spilled over you, and you relished the feel of it inside your hands. Against your bare skin. “Please?”
“Please what, hāedar? (little sister)” He asked, voice mellow with just the right amount of rumble from his chest.
“Please touch me,” you answered, back naturally arching to press your soft body against the hard planes of his own.
Another low sound came from him. He pressed a warm, wide palm up the perfect curve of your back until he squeezed into the nape of your hair. “Such a pretty word from a pretty mouth. Have my kisses made you ache with need, byka zaldrīzes (little dragon)?”
“Yes.” The single word, its single syllable, rolled off your tongue before your brain even fully registered his question. You stared at him desperately. One eye was so beautiful; so ancient in its color and proclamation, just like your own. The other reflected faceted edges of the sapphire he wore in place of his missing eye. You didn’t know which was more enchanting.
“How long can you go, hm? Without me touching you?”
“W-what?”
He laughed. A rumble beneath his pale, taut chest. “How long before you succumb to madness by me not touching your perfect cunny?”
“Aemond…,” you whined. Pitiful. “Not much longer! Please, lēkia, I need you, please.”
A serpent’s grin curved his mouth and darkened his eye as he shifted positions with you. Now, he sat upright with his back against his headboard and pulled you to sit in front of him. 
You nestled between his legs, your back flush with his chest, and his stiff cock rested against the small of your back. A blush bloomed beneath your cheeks. You knew lust ran as wild in his veins as it did in yours.
“Tell me, sweet sister…,” he started, whispering by your ear. Both his hands cupped and squeezed over your breasts. Their softness melted against his palms and he groaned at the sensation. Perfect. You were so fucking perfect. “Have you touched yourself to peak before?”
A stammer replaced the little mewl in your throat. “H-how do you mean?”
He laughed again, pinching your nipples. “Mm… are you sure?”
Lust and need and fire roared in your blood to the point of almost drowning everything else out. “I d-don’t understand,” you admitted. But, it was a lie. You knew what he meant. You could only hope he’d go easy on you so you wouldn't have to admit, prove, or say you knew what he spoke of.
“Why are you playing shy with me, hāedar? I think you know exactly what I mean. There is no shame in it,” he spoke sly, hands pushing the hem of your shift up until he held the material in a fist upon your abdomen. With his other hand he tugged your smallclothes down your bare legs, tossing them off. The flats of all his fingers ghosted over your exposed cunt. Testing you. Feeling you. He hissed an inward breath. “Fuck–”, he growled. “‘Tis a good thing I was born a prince. Gods know if I had this wet little cunt between my thighs I wouldn’t get anything done. Ever. For how often I’d fuck myself silly on my own fingers.”
Aemond’s vulgarity sent a coil of tension wringing in your belly. Slick arousal pooled hotter beneath his touch. Your clit throbbed–the little pearl silently screaming for attention. “Yes,” you breathed, shuddering.
“Yes, what?”
Your older brother wasn’t going easy on you. “Yes. I… I know what you speak of. And.. yes, I do. Sometimes…,” you admitted with a wave of embarrassment.
Somehow he grew harder against the small of your back. He throbbed. “Show me,” he demanded.
“What! Aemond, no. Please, please, please no. Don’t make me show you.” Mortification replaced your previous embarrassment. Yet, your spine quivered with another rush of liquid arousal.
“I would love nothing more than to see how you bring yourself pleasure. Do you think of me when you do, byka zaldrīzes?”
You nodded. Dizziness warbled your brain. 
“Such a sweet perfect thing,” he cooed. He'd felt that nervous energy tense you. He also saw the exquisite thrum of your pulsepoint beneath your neck, too. Two sides of the same coin: carnal desire. When he spoke again it dripped with wicked passion. “Don’t be nervous, I'll guide you through it.”
It had been quite some time since you last brought yourself to climax all on your own. Aemond was always more than eager to give you pleasure. Tonight, however, something was different. Idly you wondered what it could be. Before you thought about it too much, Aemond guided your dominant hand to that delicate space between your thighs. You gasped at the sensation of your own touch. Torture never felt so divine. Your little bud sang as you circled it, rubbed over it. You sighed sweetly. “How did you make me so wet?”
It took controlled effort to not spill himself across your back at that very moment. “Spread your legs for me, princess. Let me see and hear what you’re doing.”
You obeyed. With your legs spread wider, now, it was all the easier to resume your previous motions. Flicking and rubbing over your bud felt divine–excited little sounds already spilled from your mouth. You ached inside, too, wanting–needing–to be stretched around something. The memory of Aemond's long fingers pumping into you while his thumb claimed your clit had your face hot. You couldn't reach those same spots he could. You bit your bottom lip, whimpering.
Aemond watched from above with a hungry lecherous eye. Beneath your shift he could see your breasts, slope of belly… and then further below, your creamy thighs spilled wide open. Fuck–he was so hard his back hurt. Your girlish sounds sent his desire blazing. “Your little clit is so achy, isn’t it? I know how much you like it played with,” he said by your ear. “Do you ever go inside?”
You nodded, allowing your head to fall back against his shoulder. You stayed on your pearl, still, legs tensing with bliss as it warmed and tingled your blood.
“Show me,” he growled again. “Be a good girl. And afterward? Don’t worry, I'll take care of you. Promise.” 
Without hesitation you pushed two of your fingers into your warmth. Your body squeezed around the intrusion, inner walls flexing, trying to pull them in deeper. A gasped moan left your parted lips. “I-I’ve never done this before.” You’ve never shown anyone this before is what you meant. Aemond knew what you meant.
“I know. Shh… it’s okay, I'll guide you through it.” He gently touched the top of your hand and relished your little tendons flexing with the effort of your self pleasure. He pushed–coaxing your fingers deeper, silently urging you along. More. 
Soon the wet sounds of your hand against pink swollen flesh mingled with your moans. Lewd. Dirty. You tried to stay quiet. You really did. But it felt too good, and Aemond’s hand on yours guiding you along had your toes curling. Of course he would help you. Of course he wouldn’t let you do it all on your own. “Aem..!,” you whimpered, hips rocking with your movements. “‘M close.”
“I got you,” he whispered, voice heavy.
As soon as your fingers found that little patch of hidden nerves along your walls, you weren’t able to hold on much longer. The bliss, all at once, became too much. Tension snapped in your belly as colors flashed behind your closed eyelids. Your legs trembled at the tip of your peak, and as you crested downwards Aemond held you tighter against him.
“Vok (perfect),” he said as he watched you. How perfect you were with your silver hair framing your face. How perfect you looked when ecstasy became too much. How fucking perfect your eyes were as they opened and locked on his, bright and glassy with excitement. 
You carefully pulled your fingers free and began to turn around to face him. Before you could, however, he held you tighter against him. Confusion furrowed your brow and whatever you were about to say was cut off by his impatience.
“I’m greedy, byka zaldrīzes. Go on, one more time. I know you can do it. Show me again how you peak.”
Without arguing you again settled back against him. You planted your feet along the outside of his legs, spilling your thighs open wider than they were before. You angled your hips to the perfect position and this time a third finger joined your previous two. This time you fucked yourself without shame–not that you held on to it long in the first place.
Aemond all but snarled behind you, absolutely ravenous at the sight of three of your little fingers pumping and curling up into your body. He moved a hand downward, too, and the pads of those fingers worked over your clit in time with your pumps.
“Gods! Aem–!” You quivered against him. The addition of his lascivious attention had your hips squirming. Wanton moans, no longer trying to stay quiet, had your mind blanking. Nothing existed outside of you and Aemond. Nowhere existed outside of the spaces in which your bodies touched. Climax found you faster this time. Your second orgasm had you crumbling against him. Sweat sheened your brow. Your face bloomed. Sated. You were wholly sated.
“Good girl,” he praised. “Such a good girl. Giving me exactly what I wanted,” he kissed you, stealing your lips in a kiss that had you floating all over again. You could have fallen asleep right there in his arms and been the happiest thing in the realm. Breaking away, he added, “now I’ve a promise to make up to you, hm?”
Honestly, you’d forgotten about it. But, now that he mentioned it, your belly did a silly little flop.
With great care, Aemond moved from behind you and stood. Offering a hand to you, he said, “take your clothes off and lay on your back.”
And with that, you both finally shed the last pieces of your clothing. 
Laying like he said, you leaned back on your elbows to prop yourself up to still see your brother. Spilled messy hair, tall lean body littered with nicked scars, sapphire eye on full display…hard cock blushed angry red with need. They say Targaryen’s are closer to Gods than men, and with the hearth’s orange light reflecting on his ivory form, you believed him to be a God.
Aemond thought the same about you as you laid there bathed in the moonlight and hearthlight. 
“Spread your legs for your lēkia, I want to see you.”
As soon as you did–proudly showing off the slick mess of two climaxes, Aemond pumped along his rigid length. Despite butterflies twirling in your belly, your smile up at him was purely feline.
To Aemond’s credit, his voice only broke slightly when he said, “get on your hands and knees.”
You did. You dipped your spine as low as it could comfortably go, propping your ass up for him. As much as he loved fucking you with your legs wrapped around his waist, you knew he loved this position, too. “Māzigon va, lēkia (come on, brother),” you purred. “Keep to your promise.”
In an instant one of his hands squeezed harshly into the fat of your hip while the other spread the meat of your ass apart. He planted one foot firmly on the bed, and the other stayed rooted on the ground. The position gave him more leverage, and power, and control as he loomed above you. With a flex of his entire abdomen he pushed forward; the hot stretch of your body around him had both of you gasping. “I plan on leaving a babe in your belly tonight, hāedar. That way mother will have no other choice than to wed us,” he groaned, pulling backwards only to snap his hips against the smooth underside of your cheeks once again. And again.
You fisted the sheets as Aemond fucked you. You moaned your delight at his words, nodding. “Yes, please,” you panted. “Faster,” you begged.
His thrusts were precise and brutal. The slap of your smacking skin was utterly depraved and you hated–no, loved–how it made you impossibly wetter. Aemond did too. “Already squeezing around me? Fuck–I’m not going to last much longer,” he said, strained.
You began to push back against him, meeting his thrusts halfway with a frenzied need to make him release. “Fill me. Fill me up, Aem,” you still begged, breathing heavily. 
He rutted against you with the same need–a primal haze taking over as his stones began to tighten. His fingers dented firmly into your flesh as he continued plunging in and out of you. Instinct to spill his seed built by the moment and soon he became sloppy. He grunted and growled, and with a final shove–cock buried as deep as it could be inside your walls–he spent against your body’s end. Pulse after mighty pulse emptied his spend into you. Stray strands of hair stuck to a sheen of sweat upon his forehead.
You joined him in peak; left boneless and exhausted after three orgasms. Even at the top of your bliss, and his, he never eased until you were both done.
Aemond pulled his softening length out from you and urged you to fall forward upon his bed. You followed his motion and happily laid there. Naked, glowing, and full. You reached a hand out to pull him to you. “Avy jorrāelan (i love you).”
Aemond easily settled next to you, scooping you into him. “Avy jorrāelan tolī (i love you too),” he said between slow, satisfied kisses.
-
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diaryofaprettyprincess · 1 year ago
Text
stepdad!price x innocent!reader
note: this is a prequel to a possible series with stepdad!price x innocent!reader (obviously). reader is of age.
note 2: price is 37 reader is about 18-19 (DARK STORY !!!!!), reader gets picked up by price, 6'5 beefy price, shorter reader
໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა
lying your head on your stepfather's shoulder, you pressed your front against his side--leg thrown over his as you two got comfortable on the couch as you began watching a movie. a blanket thrown over the two of you as you nuzzled your head further into his shoulder, nibbling on your lower lip as you focused intently on the movie.
price let out a shaky breath, his eyes glancing from you to the tv to you again.
don't do it.
she's forbidden fruit.
but she is the sweetest fruit of all.
he kissed the top of your head, and you replied with his action by taking his hand under the blanket and absent-mindedly twisting the rings on his finger.
one of his rings: the wedding band.
the wedding band from the wedding between your mother and him.
it seared his skin.
he could not help that he had gotten married to the wrong person.
it should have been you.
but he had to remind himself that you were much too young.
freshly an adult. and he was 37. 37.
what the fuck was wrong with him?
he can't help that he fell in wrong with you.
you were too young..too innocent. too pure. he had blood on his hands.
your small hands fidgeted with his large, warm ones as you traced his knuckles with your cold fingers, creating odd designs that warmed his chest.
he must have been much too into his thoughts, as you giggled at something that happened in the movie, grasping and ungrasping his hand as you continued to fidget with his rings.
you looked up at him, your lips so close to his as you smiled softly. everything in him wanted to capture your lips in a kiss. your first kiss.
but he knew he couldn't.
instead, his softened eyes watched your face with pure love.
you snuggled impossibly closer to him, practically on his lap.
"honey?" his voice was deep but soft. he cleared his throat.
your eyes watched the television, never leaving them as you hummed a small, "hm?"
price thought for a moment.
your mother was out for the weekend. he could have you now...
no.
"uh, nothin'." he concluded, and you paid no mind. his right hand crept down to your exposed thighs that were thrown over his lap. he tried to ignore the intense throbbing and want that thrummed under his jean zipper.
he slowly tickled his fingers along the span of your thigh, down your calf and to your frilly-socked foot as you cutely wiggled your toes. his index traced along the delicate laced-ruffles--then down to rub the inside of your foot.
after a bit, his hand made its way back up to the side of your thigh again, running his fingers along the soft skin.
he looked over at you again.
god, how were you so beautiful?
his whole being ached with want.
he loved you so much it hurt his heart.
"that a new bow?" he asked, pinching the pink knot at the base of your messy pony tail.
you nodded, excitedly. "mm hm! do u like it?"
you always wanted his approval, and he knew that.
"i love it, sweetheart, 's beautiful jus' like you." he smiled, watching your face darken with a red blush. you giggled shyly.
"thank you, daddy." you replied quietly, still fidgeting with his hand under the blanket.
daddy.
god, were you trying to kill him?
he knows you've always had a bit of a crush on him. ever since you two met.
and he's only a little ashamed to say he immediately fell for you when you both met.
he was with the wrong girl.
he loves times like this though.
it is probably bad to say, but he loves when your mother is gone.
it reminds him of a life he could have possibly one day with you...away from it all. he has the money to start a new life with you, just not the opportunity yet.
he loves when you walk into the kitchen, stuffie pressed against your chest, hair messy, lips n eyes puffy with sleep; his t-shirt on and your cute little pink panties.
he loves when your sleepy. you cuddle up closer to him.
just this morning you stumbled into the kitchen, rubbing at your tired eyes.
price was already dressed for the day--up since 6 am.
"good morning, sweet girl." his voice made your heart flutter.
you whined, padding to where he leaned back on the kitchen counter, wrapping your arms around his torso immediately. he picked you up with ease, kissing your face as you giggled.
he sat down on the couch as you straddled him tiredly, head pressed against his beefy chest.
"you're my favorite girl, y'know that?" he whispered, petting your hair.
it was true.
you were his absolute favorite.
and he was not just about to give that up.
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