#also just swooning over her voice

[radiantaerynsvn]

tv series that have audio commentaries with the actors i love you

[dazevi]

baby, can i? | vi x fem!reader, fluff, smut (18+ mdni) wc: 6k

synopsis: vi guides you through your first time. | masterlist

content warnings: modern au!, tiniest mention of hockey player!vi, virgin!reader/inexperienced!reader, experienced!vi, soft top!vi, needy vi, nsfw/smut; consent is sexy!!!!!!, kissing/making out, little bit of perverted vi, soft sex, fingering and oral (r!receiving) slight overstim, bit of praise kink for both reader and vi, a little sappy tbh

note: ok wait this actually is really sappy/cheesy/whatver ummm but i hope u like it (also i might be on a writers high a little bit > got a request for bartender!vi andi am very excited to write about it)

It was all innocent at first—a movie you chose playing on the TV in Vi’s apartment, her chin resting lightly on your shoulder, her thumbs gently brushing circles against your sides, and ever so often, her lips grazing the top of your head in fleeting, soft kisses. You were tucked between her legs, your back resting against her chest, and her arms were securely wrapped around your waist possessively, not wanting you to move away from her.

You were watching the movie—or at least, you were trying to.

But Vi wasn’t making it easy.

She’d been unusually affectionate all evening, her hands sneaking under the hem of your sweater to rest directly on your skin. They weren’t wandering; she wasn’t teasing you like she sometimes did.

No, this was different.

Her fingers were just there, pressed against your stomach as if she needed to feel the warmth of you. She was quiet, which wasn’t unusual when she was in one of these soft, clingy moods, but you could feel her every breath against your back, her chest rising and falling steadily. In different minutes, she would shift slightly, her legs tensing around you as if she were adjusting, but really, you knew it was just an excuse to pull you closer.

“Comfy?” she asked after a while, her voice low and soft in your ear.

“Mhm,” you murmured back, turning your head slightly to look at her.

She only smiled.

“What?” You smiled back, a soft giggle falling from your lips.

Vi shook her head, placing a tiny kiss to your shoulder, “Nothing.”

She was so close, her face inches from yours, her eyes glinting in the flickering light of the TV. There was a small smile tugging at her lips, and when she caught you looking at her, she tilted her head, her expression softening in a way that made your heart flutter.

Vi had been head over heels for you from the start, though she’d never admit how fast it all happened.

She prided herself on being smooth, confident, and a little cocky—someone who always knew how to flirt, how to charm, how to make the girls swoon. And it worked for her, for the most part. Vi had never struggled to get attention; her charm, confidence, and maybe sometimes even her muscles, did most of the talking before she even opened her mouth.

But none of that prepared her for you.

When you first started dating, Vi tried to play it cool. She told herself she’d keep it casual, keep things easy. But then you smiled at her like she’d hung the moon, and that was it. Vi fell hard—headfirst, without a parachute—and it terrified her.

She couldn’t stop thinking about you, couldn’t stop replaying every moment you spent together like they were the best scenes in a movie she never wanted to end. Every time you laughed, her chest felt too tight, like her heart was trying to claw its way out of her ribcage just to reach you. She didn’t even realize how deep she was in until one day she caught herself thinking about you in the middle of practice, her teammates yelling her name because she’d missed the puck for the third time.

She told herself it wasn’t a big deal. People fell in love all the time, right?

Right?

And that scared her more than anything. Because Vi wasn’t used to feeling this vulnerable. She was used to being in control, to calling the shots, to knowing exactly where she stood. But with you, she felt like she was walking a tightrope, one misstep away from falling so deep she might never recover. And yet, she couldn’t bring herself to care.

Because as much as you terrified her, you also made her feel alive in ways she never thought possible.

And for the first time in her life, she wasn’t afraid to admit that someone else had her completely, utterly, helplessly wrapped around their finger.

And, truth be told, you’re not exactly experienced when it came to sex.

The first time you told her, it took Vi by surprise.

She had been getting touchy one day, as she always did when she was around you, teasing you with little brushes of her fingers against your skin, her lips grazing your neck as she whispered something playful in your ear. She could sense the way you tensed up, not in a way that made her think you were uncomfortable, but… uncertain.

“I—uh, I’m not really… experienced with all this,” you had admitted, your cheeks flushed a deep shade of red, eyes glancing away, as if ashamed to even say it aloud. “I’ve never… done it with someone before.”

Vi froze, her breath caught in her throat.

She hadn’t expected it—hadn’t thought that you might be nervous about something so natural to her. Vi had been with plenty of people, experienced in more ways than one, but she’d never really stopped to think about someone who was new to it all, someone who might feel hesitant or unsure. She paused, but then the softest smile tugged at the corners of her mouth as she looked at you softly.

“Hey,” she said, her voice gentle as she cupped your face with her hand, guiding your gaze back to hers. “You don’t have to be embarrassed, okay? I’m not in a rush. We’ll go at your pace, baby.”

You swallowed hard, the knot in your stomach still there, but hearing her words made it feel a little easier to breathe. She didn’t judge you. She didn’t make you feel small for being inexperienced. She understood your vulnerability because, in a way, she felt it too.

“I’m really into you,” Vi had said, her voice soft but sincere. “All I care about is being with you. So, if we go slow—if you need time—then we go slow. I’m not going anywhere.”

She kept her word.

She let you set the pace, kissed you slow and gentle, her hands always asking for permission before they moved anywhere further. When you’d get nervous, when you’d pull back, she’d smile at you, brushing your hair from your face, whispering how beautiful you were, how much she liked being close to you. She was kind of shocked herself. She had the patience to listen, the kind of patience she’d never thought she’d have for anyone, but for you? She’d have it for a lifetime if you needed her to.

But god, sometimes, it was really fucking hard.

She wanted to fuck you so bad.

Vi was, above all else, just a woman—a woman with desires that had been left unchecked for far too long. Everything you did made her heart race, made her head spin. You were so fucking pretty. It was almost unbearable. Vi wanted to get lost in you, wanted to feel her lips all over your skin, wanted to explore every inch of you until she knew you as well as she knew herself.

And she respected your boundaries more than anything. She wanted you to feel safe with her, to feel cherished, to feel like there was no rush.

But god, it was hard.

Every time you turned to her and smiled that soft, shy smile, when your fingers brushed against hers so innocently, it felt like you were silently asking for more—though you weren’t. The way you looked at her sometimes, the way you held her gaze when your lips brushed against hers, made it nearly impossible to keep herself in check.

In different situations, at a party, or even just in her apartment or yours, she’d excuse herself for a moment, retreating to the bathroom or something, just to compose herself. She’d close her eyes and huff a hard and heavy sigh, shamelessly picture it all in her head until it drove her insane. Then, she’d go back to you, a bit more touchy and loving, standing even closer than before, unable to get her eyes to look away from you. She’d smile that charming smile of hers when you turn to look at her and tell you it was nothing—even though it wasn’t nothing. Not when her eyes would keep falling to your soft lips, her hands itching at her sides to touch you in places people aren’t allowed to see, and her jaw clenching at the sight of you in such a pretty dress or whatever outfit you decided to put together that day.

Vi wasn’t perfect. Sometimes, she was just someone who wanted to touch you, to hold you, to feel your body pressed against hers. Every time you looked up at her, those soft eyes that sparkled when they met hers, she couldn’t help but think how much she wanted to kiss you, to make you feel as good as you made her feel.

But she holds herself back every time. And she’s quite proud of herself, actually.

Tonight, though, something felt different.

Vi couldn’t put her finger on it, but she felt it deep in her bones. It wasn’t just the heat in the room or the way the soft glow of the TV flickered against your skin. It was the how you’d been leaning into her a little more tonight, just enough for her to notice the subtle shift in your body. And it wasn’t like before, when you’d shift away slightly or look at her with wide, hesitant eyes, unsure of the closeness.

Tonight, you didn’t do that. You leaned in closer.

Vi’s heart skipped a beat as she felt the warmth of your body pressing against hers. Her breath caught, the movie fading into the background as her attention narrowed to you. To the way your body fit so perfectly against hers. Her hand, which had been lazily resting on your waist, hands underneath your sweater, now slid lower, just a little bit—no big deal, just a gentle touch—but the way you didn’t flinch, didn’t pull away, made her pulse race. You didn’t look uncomfortable.

In fact, you looked like you were… waiting. Like you wanted her to touch you more.

Vi wasn’t one to back down from anything, but she had always been patient with you. Yet tonight, she felt the urge to push those boundaries just a little. Her fingertips slid from your waist to your hip, feeling the curve of you, the warmth of your skin beneath the soft fabric of your shirt.

Your breath hitched slightly, but you still didn’t pull away. Instead, your back arched just enough for her to notice, and your eyes flickered up to meet hers. That same shy smile of yours tugged at her heartstrings.

You didn’t seem to mind. In fact, Vi could swear there was something more in your gaze—something that matched the heat she felt rising inside her.

She could feel her chest tighten with as thoughts of you—only you—filled her mind.

She wanted you. So badly.

Her breath came out in soft, breathless whimpers, and your name—your sweet, simple name—fell from her lips like a prayer.

“Baby…” she whispered against you, closing her eyes and letting out soft sigh.

It was so desperate, so soft.

There was no mistaking the need in her voice, the way her breath quickened, the raw hunger she was trying so hard to control, to be gentle with you, but it was obvious to you now that she was practically using every bone in her body to stay patient.

You could feel it in every inch of her, in the way her hands trembled just slightly, in the way her breath hitched as shelingered just out of reach of the place you both knew she desperately wanted to touch.

She dropped her head to your shoulder, her forehead resting gently against the soft curve of your neck as if she was trying to hide her feelings, to keep herself under control, but you could feel it in the way her body tensed, in the way her hands hovered close to you, shaking with the effort of keeping her restraint. She was trying so hard to stay composed, to be gentle, but it was clear she was on the edge, barely holding it together.

She wanted you. Needed you. And her restraint was slipping away with every passing second.

“Vi…”

At the sound of your voice, so soft and gentle, Vi’s gaze snapped up to meet yours. Her eyes were wide, waiting, like she’d been waiting for this moment, for you to say something—anything—to pull her back in. She looked almost like a puppy, the look on her face soft and eager, her lips slightly parted as if she were holding her breath, waiting for you to speak again.

She searched your eyes desperately, wanting to know what you were thinking, what you wanted, because nothing else mattered more.

“I’m here,” she breathed out, her voice barely more than a whisper.

She wanted you to know she was all in—her mind, her body, her heart. She was yours. And in that moment, it felt like nothing could tear her away from you.

“What do you need, baby?” she asked, the words falling from her lips desperately. “Tell me… please.”

Vi’s breath caught in her throat the moment you turned to face her, your eyes locking with hers as if everything else in the room disappeared. The movie was long forgotten by now and for a split second, Vi forgot how to breathe. God, you were so fucking pretty. She couldn’t help but melt as you reached up to gently brush a strand of her hair from her face.

She swallowed hard, fighting the urge to let out a shaky breath as you leaned in, your lips brushing against hers in the softest kiss she’d ever felt. It was sweet, but there was something more beneath it—something deeper.

You pulled away just enough for Vi to feel the coldness of the space left between you, and she immediately chased after your lips like a starved thing, her breath coming quicker, hands gripping your waist. Every inch of her body begged for you, aching to feel you pressed against her, to get closer, to melt into you until nothing else existed. She wanted more—needed more.

And then, your voice, soft and quiet, broke through the haze of her thoughts.

“I want you, Vi…” you whispered.

Your words were soft, almost shy, but they sent a wave of heat crashing through Vi’s chest. Her breath hitched at the sound of your voice, her heart racing even faster.

It was all she needed to hear.

She was lost in you, in the way you made her feel. She melted against you, her hands roaming up your sides, pulling you closer, her lips finding yours once again. This time, it was deeper, needier. She wanted you, more than she’d ever wanted anyone before. Every kiss, every touch, felt like it was both too much and not enough. Vi pulled you closer into her lap, her arms wrapping around you tightly as if she never wanted to let go.

“Fuck,” she whispered, voice shaky, a low groan escaping her throat as she pulled you even closer, her hands cupping the back of your head, deepening the kiss.

You could feel it—the heat building low in your stomach, the wetness pooling in your panties, spreading through your body in waves with every touch of Vi’s hands on your skin. Her grip was firm, her fingers tracing the curve of your waist like she was trying to memorize you. You gasped softly as she shifted you higher in her arms. It was impossible not to react to her—the way she looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered in the world, the way her voice dropped low and raspy when she whispered your name.

Vi couldn’t focus on anything else but you—your soft breath against her lips, your body pressed so close to hers, the way your fingers brushed against her skin. The movie was nothing but background noise now, and all she could think about how you felt, how you tasted, and how much she wanted you.

Without even realizing what she was doing, Vi pulled you closer, your legs straddling her waist. She could feel the weight of your body, the warmth of your skin, and the softness of your touch. You were everything she wanted and more, and Vi’s breath caught as she watched your eyes flicker with the same heat, the same desire that had been building for what felt like forever.

“Need you…” she whimpered, her voice low and needy, her hands already moving to settle more firmly around your waist.

She didn’t give you a moment to think before she stood up, lifting you with ease, her strong arms, muscles flexing, supporting you as if you weighed nothing, as if she’d done this a thousand times before.

You instinctively wrapped your legs around her waist, your arms around her neck, and the heat of your body pressed against hers, the way you fit perfectly, like you were made to be in her arms. She could feel your pulse against her chest, your body trembling just slightly as she carried you through her apartment, heading toward the one place that she knew would be safe—her bedroom.

Vi’s hands moved carefully as she gently laid you down against her bed, her touch lingering on your waist for just a moment longer than necessary. Her body hovered over yours, but she didn’t lean in right away. She paused instead, pulling back slightly to look at you. And god, the way she looked at you—it was like nothing else existed in the world except for you.

You felt the heat rise to your cheeks under her gaze, her eyes roaming your face. Vi wasn’t in a rush now, even if her body ached for you. She could feel her heart pounding, her breath uneven as she just… stared. You looked so fucking pretty, she thought, her lips parting slightly as if she wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words.

Her hands moved absently as she tugged at the hem of her own shirt, a random band tee she got on one of her birthdays, pulling it off in one quick motion and tossing it to the side without a second thought. Her toned body caught your attention immediately, and you felt your breath hitch as your eyes lingered on the taut muscles of her arms and the faint scars across her torso. But Vi didn’t even notice… not when her focus was entirely on you. She leaned back slightly, giving herself just enough room to drink you in.

“You’re so beautiful,” she murmured, her voice barely audible, like the words weren’t meant for you to hear but spilled out anyway.

She reached for you again, her hands sliding over your waist as her thumbs brushed over your hips, thumbs tugging slightly on your shorts. Her mind was spinning, her heart hammering in her chest as she hovered over you. The reality of the moment hit her hard, making her stomach flip over and over.

Is this really happening? she thought, her hands trembling slightly as they rested on either side of your waist. Her throat tightened as she struggled to process it all. You’re really going to let me do this? You’re really trusting me like this?

She swallowed hard, her cheeks burning as her eyes roamed over your face. You were looking up at her with so much trust, and it was almost too much for her. Her chest ached in the best way, and a nervous, breathless laugh almost bubbled out of her throat. Vi was confident���she always had been—but this? This was something else entirely. This was someone she adored more than she could put into words, giving her something so special, so intimate, that she started to question if she even deserved it.

What did I do to deserve this? she thought, her mind racing. What did I do to deserve her?

Her palms grew clammy, nervous, and for a split second, she wondered if she was going to pass out from sheer excitement. Her head was spinning with a thousand thoughts—how to take her time, how to make it perfect, how to make sure you felt as loved and cherished as you deserved, as you made her feel.

“Vi,” you whispered softly, and she blinked, her trance breaking for just a moment as her eyes locked with yours.

Your breath caught as you reached up, your fingers gently brushing against her cheek. And as she dipped her head down, her lips brushing against yours in the softest kiss, you knew you were ready.

Vi’s fingers trembled slightly as they toyed with the hem of your shirt as she pulled back from the kiss for a moment. Her eyes darted between yours and the fabric she was clutching, her lips parted as though she was trying to find the right words.

Finally, she managed to ask, her voice low and almost shy, “Can I take this off?”

The eagerness in your nod made her breath hitch, and a soft, breathless laugh escaped her lips, sounding almost disbelieving.

“Okay,” she muttered under her breath, her cheeks pink and her grin wide as she tugged at your shirt gently, pulling it over your head.

“Oh, fuck,” she whispered, her voice almost reverent as her hands came to rest gently on your waist again.

And she… stared again. Here eyes traced every curve and dip of your exposed skin. Her lips parted as if to say something, but no words came out. You blushed hard as the seconds pass, squirming slightly under her gaze, biting your lip as you glanced away, feeling shy.

“Vi… Stop looking at me like that,” you mumbled, your voice soft, barely above a whisper, but Vi didn’t listen.

Instead, she laughed, lie and warm, and dropped her head to your shoulder. Her strong arms wrapped around your waist as she held you close, her breath warm against your skin.

“Sorry, baby… Can you blame me?” she murmured, her breath tickling your neck as she continued, “I’ve got the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen… looking up at me… waiting for me…”

Her words sent a shiver down your spine, and you couldn’t help but smile, even as you playfully shoved at her shoulder.

“Shut up,” you teased, though your voice betrayed the way your heart fluttered in your chest.

She smiled cheekily and lifted her head just enough to press a quick kiss to your neck, her lips lingering for a second longer than necessary. Her hands moved with softly as they slipped to the waistband of your shorts, her fingers brushing against your skin so lightly it sent shivers up your spine. She paused for a moment, as if giving you the chance to stop her, her gaze flickering back up to meet yours.

When you didn’t protest, only nodding softly with a nervous but eager look in your eyes, Vi let out a small, breathy laugh, the sound filled with both excitement and disbelief.

“Wanna make you feel good,” she murmured, more to herself than to you, and then she began to tug your shorts down your legs slowly.

Her calloused fingers grazed against the soft skin of your thighs as she worked them down. She didn’t rush, like she wanted to savor the moment, the sight of you beneath her, the way your breath hitched every time her fingers skimmed too close. She let the fabric fall to the floor before leaning back slightly, taking you in with wide, almost awestruck eyes.

“Perfect,” she whispered, her voice low and thick with emotion. Her hands rested on your knees, gently spreading them apart just enough for her to slip between your legs.

Her breath hitched as her eyes lingered on the damp spot on your panties. Her lips parted slightly, her tongue brushing over them. Her hands trembled just a little as she reached up, fingers grazing the straps of your bra.

“Let me,” she murmured, her voice low and soft.

You nodded, cheeks flushing as Vi carefully unhooked your bra and helped slide it off your shoulders. She tossed it aside, but her focus stayed entirely on you. Her gaze roamed over your tits, her hands smoothing up your sides. She leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your chest, then another lower, and another, her lips trailing down the valley between your breasts.

“My beautiful girl,” she whispered against your skin, her voice filled with awe and something deeper—something that made your heart race. Her kisses became firmer, needier, and you felt her nose nuzzle against the swell of your tits as she breathed you in, the pads of her thumbs softly rolling over your hard nipples.

You couldn’t help but let out a soft sigh, your fingers threading through her short pink hair as her mouth moved lower, leaving hickeys as she went. Vi looked up at you briefly, her cheeks flushed, her lips parted as though she was about to say something. But instead, she simply smiled—soft and a little smug—and leaned back in, pressing another kiss to your lips that made your toes curl.

Vi’s voice was barely above a whisper, soft and warm against your skin as her fingers toyed with the hem of your panties.

“Can I?” she asked, her thumbs hooked around the waistband, tugging gently, as though she was testing your reaction before going any further.

Her gaze flicked up to meet yours, her blue eyes searching, waiting for your answer. You nodded slowly, the movement almost shy, and Vi let out a soft, shaky breath, her lips curving into the faintest smile.

“Yeah?” she asked, her voice breaking slightly.

“Yes, please…”

She smiled and hummed, leaning down to kiss your lips softly. Her fingers moved carefully, sliding your panties down your hips and over your legs, and the moment they were gone, she tossed them aside, her eyes never leaving you.

“I love you…” she murmured so quietly as she leaned back in, her hands settling on your thighs, pushing them apart to get a better look at your pussy. “So pretty…”

She pressed a kiss to your inner thigh, her lips lingering, her breath warm against your skin. Her hands, strong but gentle, rested on your knees as she eased them further apart, creating even more space for herself.

Her lips lingered just above your skin, her warm breath fanning against you as she whispered, “You’ll tell me if you need me to stop, okay?”

You looked down at her, her face framed by the dim light filtering in, her pink hair tousled and her eyes staring with need and want, waiting for permission.

“I will,” you murmured, your voice barely audible over the sound of your own heartbeat. Your fingers instinctively moved to thread through her hair, pulling her just a little closer. “I trust you, Vi.”

Vi smiled softly at your words, and the sight made your chest tighten.

“That’s my girl,” she whispered, her lips brushing your skin again, and then she kissed you, slow and deep, as her hands moved to hold your thighs, her thumbs tracing lazy circles over your skin.

Her breath hitched as her fingers dipped lower, finally brushing against the wetness that had been teasing her imagination all night. When she felt just how slick you were, her chest rose and fell with a shuddering sigh, her lips parting in awe.

“Fuck…” she whispered, her voice breaking softly as she let the sensation sink in.

Her forehead rested briefly against your thigh, and you could feel the way her breath trembled, betraying just how much she’d been holding back. You squirmed beneath her touch, your breath catching at the slow pressure of her fingers as she explored you. She looked up at you then, her eyes heavy-lidded.

“You’re so wet,” she whispered.

Her fingers teased along your folds, and when she finally slid one inside, the quiet, shaky groan that escaped her lips sent a jolt of heat through you. Your soft moan filled the room, and it sent a shiver straight down Vi’s spine. The way you reacted to her touch, the way your body seemed to move with hers—it was intoxicating. She couldn’t stop herself from curling her finger inside of your pussy, and the sound you made in response nearly undid her completely.

“Tell me how it feels,” she said softly, her eyes searching yours as her finger moved slowly, her thumb grazing over your skin. “I wanna know… everything.”

Your voice came out in a shaky breath, soft and airy as you tried to keep up with the overwhelming sensations.

“F-feels good, Vi—” you managed to whisper, your hands gripping at the sheets beneath you.

Vi’s breath hitched at your words, a flicker of pride and hunger lighting in her chest. She wanted to do good. For you. She paused only for a moment, her eyes never leaving your face as she carefully added another finger. The stretch was new, different, and it made you gasp sharply, your body tensing for just a second before melting into her bedsheets.

“Yeah?” Vi asked, her voice low and raspier now, almost shaking with how much she wanted to do this right, to make you feel good.

Her lips brush over the soft skin of your inner thigh as she fucked her fingers deeper into your pussy, curling just right. Your moans spilled out, filling the room, and Vi felt her entire body tremble with excitement.

“God, you’re so tight,” she groaned, her movements growing a little more confident as she found a pace that made your hips buck and your head fall back.

She quickened her pace, completely entranced by you. The way your face twisted in pleasure—cheeks flushed, mouth parted with those soft moans—sent a bolt of heat straight through her. She couldn’t look away.

She whimpered softly as her thumb circled your clit, drawing a sharp gasp from you that sent a wave of pride through her. But what really did her in was how fucking wet you were, the way it coated her fingers, the lewd squelching sounds filling the room with every thrust. Her mouth went dry, and her stomach flipped as she watched her fingers disappear inside you over and over again.

“Oh, fuck,” Vi murmured, her voice husky and low, almost as if she were talking to herself. “You’re so—so wet… baby, I—”

She cut herself off with a groan, unable to even form a coherent sentence, too lost in how good you felt clenching around her fingers. Her thumb pressed harder against your clit, rubbing slow circles that had your back arching and your hands clawing at the sheets.

You looked so fucking pretty, it made her head spin.

Vi’s breath was shaky as she moved her fingers faster, desperate to pull you over the edge. Her thumb never faltered, pressing and circling your clit with just the right pressure.

She leaned closer, her forehead brushing yours, her voice soft but needy as she whimpered, “Tell me how good it feels, baby. Please… I need to hear you.”

Your moans spilled from your lips like music to her ears. She couldn’t stop herself, couldn’t slow down—not when she felt the way your wet pussy fluttered around her fingers, not when she could see how close you were.

“It’s so good, Vi—oh my god, it feels so good,” you managed to gasp, your voice breaking as your hips bucked against her hand.

Her focus entirely fixated on you, on the way your body responded to her touch. Her biceps flexed with every thrust into your pussy, the veins in her arms standing out as she poured herself into the task of making you fall apart. She groaned softly as she watched her fingers disappear into you, only to reappear glistening and slick before plunging back inside. The sound of it—the wet squelch—had her nearly delirious.

“So fucking pretty like this, baby.”

Her pace quickened, her fingers curling with precision, hitting that spot that had your back arching off the mattress. Your moans grew louder, less controlled, and Vi swore she could feel your body trembling as your thighs quivered against her.

“V-Vi! I-I’m gonna… cum! Gonna cum—“

“That’s it, pretty girl,” she rasped, her lips parted as she leaned closer, her forehead brushing against your stomach. She looked up briefly, her eyes dark as she took in the sight of you. “You’re so close—I can feel it. Cum for me, yeah? Please, I need to feel you.”

And then it happened.

Your body arched, your moans spilling out in broken cries as you clenched tightly around her fingers. Vi groaned loudly, the sound guttural and needy, as she felt you come undone around her. But she didn’t stop—not yet. Her fingers kept moving, her thumb circling your clit as she worked you through every wave of pleasure, desperate to draw it out for as long as she could.

“Fuck, that’s it,” she whispered, her voice shaky and reverent. “You’re so good for me, baby. So, so good.”

Vi let out a breath, a soft sigh of disbelief, as she pulled her fingers from you slowly after she let you ride out your high, her gaze never leaving your face. Her fingers were glistening with your cum, and she couldn’t help but stare in awe. The way you looked—completely undone, lost in pleasure—had her feeling like she was floating, the reality of what had just happened still sinking in.

Blue eyes traced the curve of your body, watching the way your skin glistened with sweat. She couldn’t help it—her mind blanked, a single thought echoing through her: God, she’s so fucking pretty. She was overwhelmed, feeling like she could never get enough of you, of the way your body responded to her, how perfect you were in her eyes, like you were made just for this. Every movement, every little breath, it was all just… mesmerizing.

She brought her fingers up and slid slowly them into her mouth, her gaze never leaving you as she savored the taste of you on her tongue. Oh, fuck! She needed more. Without thinking, her hands moved quickly, spreading your thighs further apart and her voice came out in a soft, needy whisper.

“Gotta taste you… just real quick,” she murmured so quietly, you barely heard it.

A gasp escaped your lips before you could process anything else, your body already reacting before your mind caught up. Instinctively, your fingers tangled in the strands of Vi’s pink hair, pulling hard, making her groan right into your wet pussy.

This was when you learned that Violet was a messy eater.

Her tongue pressed against folds, inside of you, occasionally sucking around your clit, the feeling of her mouth, wet and needy, sent a shiver through you. You couldn’t help but notice how she lost herself, her sounds louder and messier than you’d expected—like she was devouring you. She slurped everything up and you could feel yourself dripping and soaking her bedsheets beneath you.

God, her tongue felt so fucking good. It was almost too good. Fuck, she’s so good at this.

“V-Vi—” you cried out, your voice trembling, but she didn’t seem to hear you.

You tugged at her hair to let her know you were close, that you were going to cum again, and she didn’t slow down. If anything, it only spurred her on, her mouth sucking and slurping more and more, faster and harder. You cried out, the tension building in your lower body, and before you could even process it, she quickened her pace, her hands shifting from your thighs to intertwine with yours. The way she gripped your hand made you feel like she was holding you in place, ensuring you couldn’t pull away, even if you tried.

“I-I’m cumming again—Fuck—Vi-Violet!”

With a final gasp, your body tensed, waves of pleasure crashing over you. The wave hit you all at once, and you came right on her tongue, your breath ragged, moans slipping from your lips uncontrollably. Vi held you through it, her grip on your hand tightening, her tongue slowing down on your pussy.

After a while, she finally lifted her head up and looked at you, her eyes half-lidded and hazy with exhaustion, a satisfied smile tugging at her lips. Her face was flushed, her skin slick with sweat, and her chin glistened with your cum, like she was wearing it with pride.

She moved slowly, her lips trailing up your body. Her kisses were gentle at first, but the further she traveled, the more urgent they became, each one pressing deeper against your skin, right over each mark and hickey are left behind earlier. She kissed your stomach, your ribs, each kiss a little firmer, a little more hungry, until she reached your chest, her breath mingling with the heat of your skin.

When she finally reached your neck, she paused, her breath shaky against your skin, and you felt the faintest tremor under her fingertips. Then, without warning, she was kissing you again, her lips pressing against yours with a hunger that mirrored the one she’d just left between your legs, whimpering and moaning right into your mouth. You could taste yourself on her lips, a faint sweetness that made your pulse quicken all over again.

When the kiss broke, both of you were breathless, your lips swollen and tingling. Vi pulled back slightly, her eyes heavy-lidded, a soft smile playing on her lips as she gazed down at you.

“I love you,” she said.

You barely caught your breath, the lingering aftershocks from everything that had just passed through your body.

“I love you, too,” you managed to say, the words coming out breathlessly.

Her smile softened, her gaze melting into something tender as she stared down at you.

She bit her lower lip nervously before asking, “Did I do okay?”

You couldn’t help but smile lovingly at her, your heart swelling with affection. Without a word, your hands reached up to brush the mess of pink hair from her face, the softness of the gesture grounding you both in the moment. Her hair was tangled, strands sticking to her skin, but she was beautiful—more than beautiful, especially in this moment where everything felt real and raw.

“It felt… so good, Violet… You were perfect,” you whispered.

She held your gaze, her eyes flickering relief and pride. You leaned up slightly, brushing your lips against her forehead in a tender kiss, as if to reinforce what you’d just said. Perfect. In every way.

Vi’s lips curled into a smug, satisfied smile as she heard you, and you couldn’t help but notice the gleam in her eyes—proud, almost playful, like she knew exactly what she had just done to you. Without missing a beat, she leaned down, pressing soft, teasing kisses along your neck. She let herself collapse on top of you, her body heavy and warm, her muscles wrapping around you firmly. She nuzzled her face into your neck, her breath warm against your skin, close to your ear.

“I… I’m gonna let you rest, but…” Her voice was quiet, almost shy. She paused, just for a moment, before continuing, her words sending a thrill through you, “I wanna go again...“

You looked up at her, eyes widening slightly as you tried to catch your breath. Your arms wrapped around her loosely around her neck, your fingers brushing the hairs at the back of her head. Vi sighed at the feeling, closing her eyes for a brief moment before opening them again to look at you, to plead with her eyes.

“Can we?”

That playful, confident side of her was back again, and you knew then, with absolute certainty, that you were in for a very long night.

thank u for reading :) | masterlist

[spencerreidenjoyer]

let you lock me down (tonight) | spencer reid x reader

You'd never really thought about having kids, but Spencer just might change your mind.

wc: 600, rating: explicit/18+

tags: breeding kink (this is the whole premise of the fic. oops?), talk of having kids/pregnancy, established relationship, fem!reader, set in s10-11

a/n: no reason for this other than the fact that sabrina carpenter's juno is one of my fav songs off the short n' sweet album. also i was probably ovulating when i started this drabble sorryyyy

You know Spencer had wanted kids since you first got together.

It hadn’t come up until a few dates in, where Spencer had been a little late to dinner because he was helping to watch over his colleague’s kid. He’d talked for half the night about how much he adored her kid as his godfather, with his colleague having a second one on the way, and how he wanted to be a dad someday.

You would’ve found it more creepy if you weren’t extremely endeared. Spencer was undeniably loving, caring, and impossibly sweet, and dating him was easy. Being with Spencer is easy. You get him, and he gets you.

You know Spencer wants kids, and that’s why when you mention it you’re not surprised by how he reacts.

It just happens to be in the middle of sex.

“Fuck, baby,” you giggle, Spencer being extremely eager as he pushes into you. “You’re so needy. It’s like you wanna put a baby in me.” 

Spencer chokes, his hips stuttering at your filthy words, and it just pushes him deeper into your tightness. “Oh, my God.”

“Does that sound good? You filling me up with your cum until it takes?” you moan, as Spencer rolls his hips into you. It shoves his thick cock deeper inside of you, bullying his way past your tight walls. 

“You make me sound like an animal,” Spencer complains, but his breathlessness tells you that he’s into it. He’s still fucking into you – hard, eager, desperate.

“You could fuck me like an animal,” you swoon, just a little, rather pleased with yourself and the fact that Spencer is so into this, so into you. “Wanna claim me as yours?”

Spencer laughs, shaking his head. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

“Not before you get me pregnant,” you tease, waggling your eyebrows. “Come on, you know you want to.”

”You are literally insane,” Spencer says, stilling his hips. They’re pressed flush against you, but he looks down at you sternly. “Are you being serious right now?”

You purse your lips, considering Spencer’s own concerned look. “Kind of?”

”Kind of?” Spencer parrots back. “Be more specific.”

”Maybe I just wanna enable your breeding kink,” you smirk, locking your legs around Spencer’s waist. The movement pushes him inside of you a little deeper, and he whines. 

Spencer rolls his eyes, half exasperated and half endeared. “I don’t have a breeding kink.”

“You do, baby,” you giggle. “And getting pregnant wouldn’t be so bad.”

Spencer’s eyes are so wide they look like they could pop out of his skull. “You– You can’t just say things like that! And we are not having a conversation about family planning while I’m inside of you.”

”Now would be the perfect time to talk about having kids,” you offer, but Spencer glares at you.

Smiling, you wriggle your hips just to get a rise out of Spencer. It works, you note, as he whimpers with the movement. ”Okay, so after you’re done with me?” 

“We’ve only been dating for three months,” Spencer says, furrowing his brows. 

“I know,” you nod. “And I mean it. You— You make me want to. Consider kids, I mean.”

Spencer sighs, but you see the way his eyes soften, hear the warmth in his voice as he tries to seem normal and calm about all of this. “Okay. I’ll make you cum and then we can talk about kids.”

“Aww. How romantic,” you say, as Spencer leans forward to kiss you again, and to fuck you again.

While you’d never seriously thought about having kids, Spencer is certainly making you reconsider.

[cherry-leclerc]

we never talk about it ☆ op81

genre: humor, angst, yearning, massive crushes, and lots and lots of miscommunication, assistant!reader

word count: 11k

It's unwise—longing for someone like Oscar. While he's the epitome of someone anyone can easily fall in love with, you're the epitome of a devoted girl who will fall in love with him. You might not even care too much about all the heartbreak you endure along the way.

inspired by sharpest tool, sabrina carpenter !

cherry here!... based on real events.

Do you remember the day we first met?

The wind doesn’t do its job in blocking him out, the way you prayed and wished it would. You’re still able to catch the crack in his voice—a distant reminder of the way it once made you giggle. Even his nose is beet red, matching the Christmas lights. But apart from all that, you still hear him. You still see him. 

You always have.

“A little bit. Yeah.”

He flinches, then tries to play it off with a soft smile. Like he doesn’t want you to uncover the slight hurt he feels. But he can’t read your mind. He never could. And that was the problem.

Oscar nods, feigning indifference. “I do. Remember it all, I mean.  Think back to it quite often."

-

It’s utterly useless to try and ignore him, really.

His hair is too fluffy, his eyes are too bright, and his accent is making you want to flaunt the way some loony character would with a hand over their heart. It was honestly a tad bit demeaning.

But you can't help it. You admire the way his brown locks fall in a lousy manner when he towers down to sign the contract. You blush when his eyes get that twinkle in them. And you swoon over almost anything he says with a shy smile.

“You’re drooling.”

Mortified, you briskly run the back of your hand against your mouth before sending a harsh glare. Lando snickers. “Would you please stop?”

His jaw drops, theatrically. “You’re not actually into him—are you?”

He says it with a trace of humor, but also shock, and you can't help but have your mouth run dry. A loose grin starts to expand across his lips as you hurriedly shake your head. “O-of course not. Are you crazy?”

But if anything, you feel crazy. You must be, right? With every passing second of your heart beating faster and faster against your chest simply just by looking at the young Australian, you’re sure you fall straight into the category like some love fool.

Lando squints his eyes. “I don’t know.” He leans in straight into your face, nearly hissing. “Am I?”

“Am I interrupting?” 

Flinching hard, you turn quickly to face Anastasia. You’d initially met the black haired girl back in 2019. As you started off as the Brits personal assistant, she took over as Carlos’ and later also Daniel’s. Over the course of time, you two came to be as close as sisters. 

“No! Not at all,” you squeak, nervously before pushing the McLaren driver away and patting towards the open chair next to you. She giggles, rolling her eyes and adjusting herself. “How was the flight over?”

A shrug. “As good as it can get. Sat next to a silver fox, so I guess that must count for something, no?” Lando shudders. She leans in closer, plopping her head against your shoulder. “What’d I miss?”

“Not much.” Only, that’s not true. She missed the way he laughed awkwardly when the doors wouldn’t slide open and let him into the headquarters. She missed the way he rolled his R’s a little too hard when saying ‘sorry’. She missed the way he grabbed the pen with a certain glow on his face, like he almost couldn’t believe any of this was happening. Lazy fingers pat her head gently once before sighing. “He seems nice.”

“How do you know?”

You know because of the way he talks to everyone. Like he cares about what they have to say. Whether it’s about how great his career is going to be here in McLaren or if they introduce their kids to him via FaceTime. He always wore the same smile, talked in the same warm tone. So, could your guess be far off? Yes. It could be completely far off. But you would bet money that it wasn’t. 

“Just a wild hypothesis.”

Her laugh isn’t too loud, not ridiculously so, at least, but the fact that it echoes is what makes it appear as such. Anastasia is quick to slap her hand over her mouth, the Brit turns fast to face her with panic evident in his eyes, and you simply blink with a shade of red slowly creeping towards your cheekbones. 

Zak grins. “You three.”

“Oh, we’re out,” Lando mumbles in monotone, already grabbing your wrist and dragging you to the exit. You follow numbly, like you don’t have any strength left in your body. 

“You’re leaving me?” Anastasia hisses.

“She’s my assistant,” he says like a matter-of-fact. “Where I go, she goes.”

“Oh, you Judas—”

“All of you,” Zak clarifies, narrowing his eyes over to you and the Brit. You gulp.

With a soft curse, Anastasia stands up, tall and firm, and makes her way over with all the confidence in the world. You frown, craving to be the same way, even just a small percentage. Instead, you have to be forced by the McLaren driver. 

With every step, your head just spins faster because now, he’s more than real. You can smell his cologne. You can count all the moles that cover his face if you really wanted to. You can spot how his hair is still a bit wet, indicating an early shower. 

He’s just becoming— too real. 

“Lando, buddy, meet your new teammate!”

“Nice to meet you,” the blue eyed boy declares with a loopy grin, letting go of your hand in order to shake his. 

“Likewise.”

Zak claps once. “Oh! And meet your personal assistant, Anastasia.”

“Here for anything you might need,” she cheers with a bright smile.

“Fantastic.”

A wave of silence overlaps your four before Lando clears his throat. “And even though you might not be working with her one-on-one, this is my Anastasia.” A snicker. “My assistant, if you will.”

“Nice to meet you—”

“Nice to meet you—”

You both freeze, hands intertwined for a second longer before abruptly letting go. He lets out a dry laugh while you do the same. The way your skin tingles makes you blush. 

“This is fun and all, but we actually have somewhere to be,” the Brit claims with a suspicious look slashed across his usual laid back expression. You nod. “But we’ll see each other soon, man. Can’t wait to race together!”

In a flash, you two are out the door, leaving a dumbfounded Oscar blinking slowly.

-

“He fucks with you.”

“Excuse me?”

Another bench press. “As in, he likes you. He’s into you.”

You don’t dare ask who he is because you already know who the Brit’s referring to and that would only inflate your ego. Snapping your fingers, you narrow your eyes. “Focus. Two more sets left to go.” He groans, flipping you off.

It would be a lie to say that this didn’t make your self-esteem skyrocket. Could he be right? Could someone like Oscar ever lay eyes on you? Somewhere in your dreams, you’d like to say yes. Yes. That is a possibility. But the longer you think about it, the more unrealistic it gets.

You don’t have what others do. And that itself is enough to pop the bubble. 

-

The start of the season is always tough. 

“He’s extremely nervous.”

For some more than others.

You frown. “Really? But he’s usually so…relaxed.”

Anastasia shrugs, hair falling over her shoulder as she continues typing. “I mean, I tried talking to him but with everything I said, he’d just reply—'that's nice’. It was sarcastic, if anything. I would have laughed if I didn’t feel for him. Poor boy.” Her fingers freeze mid-air. “Wait—do you think you could talk to him?”

“I’m not sure that’s a great idea—”

“Come on! Maybe it’ll help him ease his nerves!”

“Ana—”

“Please.”

You huff. “Okay. Fine. Yeah. I’ll see what I can do.”

As soon as you knock, you almost want to turn away. Maybe it was all an exaggeration. Plus, it’s not like he’s going to die from having butterflies in his stomach. Yeah, surely he’ll be fine and he doesn’t really even need you to—

“Come in.”

He wasn't expecting you, that much you can tell by the way his brows go up. But he’s quick to erase the confusion, settling with a fond expression. “Hey.”

“Hi,” you squeak before cringing at the sound. He chuckles, returning to his warm-up exercises. “How are you feeling?”

Another chuckle, this time amused. “Anastasia sent you, didn’t she?”

“What?” A beat. “No.”

He hums. “Tsk. I’m a bit nervous, that's all.”

You lick your lips, kicking your foot up against the doorframe. What could you possibly say that she hasn’t already? If she couldn’t ease him, then how can you? The thought of messing up and making it worse makes your stomach churn. 

“You’re going to do g—”

“Great?” He sighs, blowing his cheeks. “That’s exactly what she said.”

“And what’s wrong with it? She’s only trying to help.”

“No. I know she is, but…” He looks down onto his lap, pausing all movements. “Look, I appreciate you both. What you’re trying to do for me, but I can’t stand hearing what others think I want to hear.”

“It doesn’t do it for you?”

His eyes grow slightly wide with the way you go about and ask. He’s never seen you be anything other than sweet and reserved. But this—right now—is stern and very coach-like. Something and someone you aren’t. Not even close.

“It doesn’t,” he admits, finally looking away. “Never liked it. Always sounds too forced.”

You nod, crossing your arms. “Fine. I can tell you the truth. I can be truthful.” He perks. “Oscar, you’re a terrific driver.” He groans, covering his face with his hands. “But just because you’re great doesn’t mean you’ll be great all the time.” The Australian frowns, uncovering and looking up at you with attentive eyes. “You’re going to mess up. You’re going to be second, or third, or sometimes even twentieth, but that doesn’t matter, you know why?”

“Why?”

“Because you signed that contract, so you sort of have to suck it up, either way.” He lets out a loud laugh. Very unlike him. A weak smile threatens to fall as you try your best to push it back. “There’s going to be bad races, but there’s also going to be very good races. It all depends on you and how hard you work. Sometimes you’ll have a good car, a good strat, and others you’ll have a shitbox and a bad strat. That’s just the way this sport works, okay?”

Oscar blinks slowly, as if trying to decipher who you are, and that itself makes you dizzy. “I-I-I don’t care if you’re nervous, I don’t care if you’re sure—all we care is that you drive that car, and that you try your best no matter what. Can you do that?”

It’s foreign. The feeling in his chest. He’s not used to hearing any of this. As of recently, everyones been texting him to say how great he’s going to be. How far he’ll go. And while he was grateful for having unconditional support, he also dreaded hearing it sometimes because he doesn’t even want to picture letting any of  them down. He’ll act like he’s fine, he’ll act like he doesn’t care—but none of that would be true.

The brunette tilts his head to the side, slightly squinting. “I can. I can always try my best. Even if I fall short.”

“Good.” A beat. “We all believe in you. No matter what, okay?”

A timid smile. “I know…”

He ends up having to retire the car by lap fifteen, but the most astonishing part is that he’s not even upset. He tried his best. He listened to every single advice his engineer would alert him with. He practiced long hours in the stimulator.

This is just the way things go sometimes. Just like you said.

-

“I’m bored. Can I get a ten minute break or something?” Lando grimaces, rolling his wrist like it's the worst pain in the world. 

You hum, fixing the signed hats back into the box. With eyes screwed, you shrug. “Fine. But only ten! I’m serious. We need to have this done by one.”

“Yes! Ten—got it.”

He doesn’t come back in ten. For the matter, he actually goes missing. 

You narrow your eyes towards the clock, watching as it clicks like some mockery. You’re going to strangle him. You vow at that very moment that you’ll strangle the Brit as soon as you lay hands on him. With one final huff of desperation, you stand up, rubbing your eyes. People frolic through the paddock—you’re sure you even catch a glimpse of Lewis being papped—but that’s not what catches all of your attention. 

Instead, you find yourself leaning against the rail, squinting down to where the man of the hour sits, microphones huddled all around him like some interrogation. Anastasia smiles politely, back straight, and voice-recorder in hand. 

It’s faint—you almost can’t hear a thing—but it’s just enough. 

How does it feel to be back home? Enjoying it, no?

Oscar hums, straight brows slightly furrowed due to the bright sun, but just one adjustment of his hat makes that all go away. “Feels good. I’m able to sleep in my own bed, so that’s pretty cool. And yes. It may be a bit biased, but I am enjoying my time here more than the last two races.” Everyone chuckles. 

Can we talk about your expectations for this weekend? 

You can see him pause, and from where you’re standing, the way his fingers drum against his chair. “Well, I, uh…I hope for a good car.” The joke is supposed to be there, but you can tell everyone was expecting more with the way they murmur to one another. You wince.

Will raises the microphone up to his lips, along with his hand in order to catch the brunette’s attention. “I’m sure there’s been lots of people reaching out to you since this is your first home race, but has there been someone’s advice that has stuck like no other?”

Oscar smiles gently. “There has been, actually.”

You freeze, gripping the steel bar with anticipation. Your knuckles nearly feel like they’re about to snap, and you feel like you’re probably leaning a bit too far over the edge to hear it all, but you don’t even care. Will chuckles. “If it’s not too much to ask, would you mind sharing with us all? I’m sure it’ll help a lot of youngsters watching.”

Anastasia slides the recorder closer. Oscar visibly swallows. “I’m not sure I can. I never asked her for permission to talk about it. And quite frankly, I’d like to keep it between us.”

Will perks up. “Her?”

The black-haired girl is quick to whisper into his ear, turning the opposite way so no one can even attempt to read her lips. He nods, eyes trained forward like some guard. “Any more questions?” But everyone’s intrigued at this point, so all the questions that follow remain the same. Something that makes Anastasia panic and Oscar regret his choice of words. 

“Can we get a name?” some blurts out, nearly seeming desperate to get the inside scoop.

Only, his face remains still, jaw slacked. “No.”

Will raises his hand. “Very well, we don’t have any right to know, but are you willing to share a bit about what she said?”

And it’s almost as if the Australian can foresee that the only way to get out of this situation is by giving them what they want. Even if it’s a stupid little crumb. He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “She told me to try my best. That’s all I can really do.”

The mix of photographers and journalists deflate. “I-I’m sorry,” Lawrence Barretto slides in with a light tone and an ever lighter smile. “Don’t mean to lessen its meaning, but isn’t that a common thing to say? To hear?” An awkward laugh. “I mean, I just thought it’d be something a bit more…deep. Inspiring, perhaps.”

Blood rushes to your cheeks and you’re grateful to whatever God may exist that you’re not down there. On the other hand, Oscar is a bit bothered by the innocent comment, but then realizes he doesn't have to be. They weren’t there. They don’t know just how much more you said. How upfront you were with him without sounding condescending. Something most people did without even realizing. 

The brown eyed boy spares a smile. “Like I said—some things I’d like to keep between her and I. And even if it was just that, it’s the way she said it.” A beat. “It’s quite a lavish thing to have. A sincere person to talk to, I mean.”

Will tilts his head suspiciously. “It appears she might be someone special to you, yes?”

The Australian freezes at the unwanted interpretation. Suddenly, the atmosphere is far too crowded. He lets out a forced chuckle, rolling his neck before messaging it gently. “Well, yes. I’d agree.” 

A mix of giddiness and shock rushes through your veins as you refrain yourself from jumping up and down with excitement. 

“You’d be lucky if you had her as a friend too.”

-

“Is everything okay?”

Biting down on the churro he had gifted you as an apology for not getting back on time, you growl. “Yes. Why wouldn’t it be?”

Lando raises a thick brow. “Dunno. Maybe the fact that you’re moping.”

Your jaw goes slack, immediately turning to face him. “I am not moping.”

The sound he lets out indicates he doesn’t quite believe you, but is choosing to let it go. Also, he doesn’t want to see your patience run out, too scared of what you might do. The curly haired driver plops down onto his bed that stands in his motorhome, closing his eyes. You nearly envy the indifference in him. The lack of worry. 

“I can hear your teeth clenching. Gross.”

A grunt. “I’m gonna go grab a coffee. Need anything?”

“Only a nap. It’s a good thing you’ll be gone.” He turns over to his side, bringing your jacket over his face to block out any light. You bite the air, swinging silently for a minute or two before exiting the cramped room. 

The sun hurts, you remember thinking, but the upcoming migraine you’re getting is even worse. You should be used to this by now, given you’ve suffered from them since elementary, but based on the way you zig zag without meaning to is enough proof to know that you’re not. Everyone's voices are suddenly muffled, even the sound of engines roaring is as soft as a feather. You wince, massaging your temples as if that might help. 

Woah, are you feeling alright? 

“I’m fine,” you respond meekly, to who even knows. You wave them off rudely. “I’ll be fine. Just. Leave me alone.” 

Anastasia frowns, all while fanning your face. “No. You need to lay down.” She nudges the Australian, who up until now, you had no clue he had his arm clung around your waist. If you weren’t too busy feeling like shit, you’d definitely be making a fool out of yourself. Her green eyes fill up with worry. “I’m gonna go look for a paramedic.”

“You’re doing too much,” you slur, body letting loose and making the brunette shriek as he grips you harder, trying to keep you upright. 

A deadpan expression. “Oscar, take her back to your motorhome and have her lay down.”

He nods, hesitantly. “Y-yeah, okay. Okay.” Once she runs off like a headless chicken, you let out a dramatic gag. Sharp brows knit together with horror. “Do I smell bad?”

A giggle. “No. As a matter of fact, you smell rich.”

With his arm still wrapped around you securely, and warm eyes flickering from you back to see where he’s heading, he grins, eyes crinkling. “Rich? That just so happens to have a scent?”

You purse your lips, wincing at the fact that your peripheral vision has gone completely dark. “Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe I’m a terrific liar and I’m only stroking your ego for my benefit.”

Another chuckle. “Benefit? What benefit may that be?”

Tsk. “How else am I gonna get you to take me to bed?”

The Australian instantly chokes hard on a string of his own saliva, causing you to flinch at the loud sound. Loud to you, at least. He apologizes, but not before taking a glance down, like it’s the first time meeting you. 

As soon as you lay down on the miniature mattress, you release a groan. Even just having your eyes closed makes you dizzy. You let out a loud groan, kicking your feet against the cushion in desperation.

“That bad?”

“That annoying.”

And even though you can’t see him, he nods, internally freaking out, trying to think of ways to help. “Does this happen to you often?”

“Yes.”

He nods, sheepishly. “W-what do you normally do? You know? To help?”

Tossing over to lay on your side, you pinch your eyes, grinding your molars. For a minute, you sort of thought your teeth might crack. Everything about this situation was becoming unbearable. “My mom, she, um…she’d normally braid my hair. It helped sometimes. Others it didn’t.” Messy hair dangles over your face as you let you out a loud exhale, as if you were in the middle of releasing some demon. “I moved too much, she said.”

Oscar smiles, coming across like a faint memory locked in the back of your mind. “I-I-I can try…” Loopy eyes flicker up to face him, and he’s quick to scrunch his nose. The sight alone makes you breathe easier, though he doesn’t know that. Of course he doesn’t. “Only if you want me to…”

“You know how?”

“Sort of? When I was younger, I used to sit across from my sisters at the breakfast table. I was bound to learn a thing or two.”

The subtle proud smile makes your heart beat flutter, smitten at the insight to his childhood. You wish you knew more. Like what was his favorite show? Did he have any imaginary friends, just like you did? Or maybe his favorite superhero? But you swallow all those questions down your throat as soon as he kneels down next to you. The whiff of soft musk distinctively adds to your headache, but you’re too focused on him for something as dumb as that to matter. 

“Just…close your eyes.”

Taking one last glance at him, you comply, lashes fanning slowly before going completely dark. You can still hear him adjusting, you can feel him take your hair into his hands, but nothing makes you stop breathing like his touch that grazes your cheek. 

It’s almost ghostlike—doesn’t really stay on the same spot for too long—but you know it’s real. Long fingers calmly push strands of hair behind your ear, tranquility expanding over your body. The slight tickle it causes helps ease your pounding migraine, little by little. 

“Are my hands too cold?” he whispers, not trying to intrude, but at the same time, wanting to know. You twist, bottom lip jutting out. Not at all. Keep going. And he does. He ends up tangling your hair a bit, because as it turns out, he doesn’t remember much, but he’s sure to delicately fix his mess, brows drawn in with heavy concentration. 

As soon as your hair is back to flowing free, he relaxes, wincing a bit at the pain in his knees. Your hair feels soft. Just what he would imagine a cloud would feel like. For a second, he begins to wonder, who’s this really for? He feels like this might be soothing him more than you. 

Just then, his finger catches on a knot, and he freezes, stopping all movements. “Holy crap, I am so sorry, I—”

You let out a low whimper, but don’t do so much as bat an eye. You’re sound asleep. The brunette lets out a breath of relief, falling back to sit on the ground. 

Your face is a bit squashed—and you’re drooling just a tad bit—but for some odd reason, he finds himself admiring. You’re full lips. You’re lashes. God, even the way you breathe. He feels a tender smile itching, but it never truly gets to see the light of day, because before he knows it, the door is swung wide open. 

Anastasia stops dead in her tracks. “What happe—is she asleep?”

Oscar opens his mouth, then snaps it shut. He does this a couple of times, awkwardly turning to face you and his assistant, back and forth, back and forth. “She, um…just did. A minute ago.”

She pouts, scratching her head. “Weird. Usually when this happens it prolongs for at least ten minutes before it gets any better.” The green eyed girl sheepishly waves the group of paramedics away. A trail of sighs echo as they turn away. As soon as they’re gone, she gently shuts the door, then tippy toes towards the edge of the small bed. Neat brows furrow. “At least she’s feeling better, no?”

Brown eyes follow her gaze. “Yeah. At least.”

-

Lando ends up throwing—and according to him— “The World’s Coolest Jamboree”. You beg for him to call it anything but jamboree, but he’s too attached to it by the time he sends the last text invite, which so happens to be to the rookie driver. 

“Has anyone RSVPed?” you question over his shoulder. He’s in the middle of mixing some mysterious liquid, but by the looks of it, doesn’t look any good. You grimace. 

He lets out a bleh before dropping his utensils. “No one RSVPs these days. They either show up, or they don’t.” 

A slow nod. “So, you don’t know who’s coming?”

“Not a clue. But most likely everyone.”

You scoff. “How are you so sure?”

He gives you an ‘are you kidding me?’ type glare before sending a sly grin. “First of all, it’s my party. They’d be crazy to miss out. And second of all…it’s only the biggest, funnest, coolest jamboree!”

“Funnest is not a word.”

“And party-poopers aren’t welcomed.” You gasp, smacking his chest harshly. He lets out a snicker, picking up a bag of ice and spilling it into the glass bowl. “But I’ll make an exception. Just this once.”

“Just this once,” you mimic before dipping your pinky in. He instantly slaps your hand away. Smacking your lips, you let out a yelp at the bitter taste. “This tastes like ass. God—not even Daniel will drink this, and that guy drinks anything in his way. I’m surprised he hasn’t been accidentally roofied.”

Lando claps his hands with amusement. “God forbid. And please, pay your respect to Lando’s Best Worst Decision.” A beat. “™.” 

“™?” you deadpan. “What? Are you planning on adding a trademark to this sewage water?”

“It’s good, okay?” Mixing the clear liquid once more, he smiles fondly down at it. “And maybe. I’m seriously considering it.”

You sneer, already walking away.

He ends up being right. Not even an hour later, the party is in full swing. Sure, a couple drivers aren’t able to make it, but it’s still jammed packed. It's honestly a miracle to get through the Monaco flat. 

You’re still sober?

Laughing, you nod, raising your water up in the air like some toast. Daniel frowns. “Considering I have to make sure my number one client doesn’t make any bad choices tonight, then nope. Can’t have a sip of alcohol.” 

Brown eyes flutter slowly. “I’m sure there’s other beverage choices. Have you tried Lando’s Best Worst Decision?” He leans in, winking. “™.”

“Oh no. Don’t tell me you actually like it?” He shrugs and you shudder in disgust. “I’m sure I saw him add ten energy shots and God knows what else.”

“No wonder I feel kinda funky.” Your face drops. “Hey, if you pass out, can I crash tonight?”

“Daniel!” you groan, covering your face. “I swear, I’m going to spill that stupid drin—” Only, Daniel is gone. Craning your head, you circle the room. From where you stand, you’re able to see Carlos and Lando taking part in a heated round of pool, all while Charles sways back and forth, infamous red cup in hand.

Marching over to the kitchen island, you pick up the glass bowl and carry it over to the sink before tipping it over. You huff, hair fanning across your nose. 

“Stupid, stupid boys—”

“Hey.”

You shriek, dropping the bowl, and wincing at the sound of glass shattering. 

Oscar grimaces. “Shit. Sorry. Are you hurt?”

“No.” You sigh. “Lando’s gonna kill me.”

Grabbing the nearby broom, the Australian sweeps carefully while knitting his brows. “Why?”

“It’s a family heirloom.”

“A glass bowl?”

You giggle. “I wonder why too.”

Despite the blaring music, and constant chattering, the room feels rather silent. You fiddle with the hem of your dress, and that seems to catch his eye as it dawns on him that he hasn’t really seen you in anything other than your usual uniform. To be fair, you could say the same. He likes it. 

You clear your throat. “Halfway done. How do you feel?”

He sips on his water, jaw clicking before settling with a sharp tsk. “Good. I think I’m finally getting the hang of it. Anastasia even congratulated me the other day when I diverted a series of questions with ease.”

Impressed, you raise your brows. “Bravo. Wish that was the case with Lando. I swear, sometimes I think he does and says things to make me look bad on purpose.”

“He should stop,” he says with a goofy smile. “Does he not know how lucky he is to get to call you his assistant?”

You blush. “Best friend, actually. I’ve been promoted ever since I pretended to be his girlfriend last New Year's Eve.”

The brunette inches forward with curiosity. “Wish to clarify?”

You hop onto the island, fixing your dress and crossing your legs. “Don’t tell him that I told you any of this, but I secretly think he was embarrassed of not having a midnight’s kiss. Especially since his ex was there with her new boyfriend. Talk about the unexpected.”

His chest tightens. “You two, um…kissed, then?”

“Yes,” you confirm with a childlike grin, and for some reason, it makes him want to puke. “Oh God, I haven’t thought about this in forever!”

He pretends to find interest in the crowded room, but really, it all remains on you. “Was it any good?”

You blush this time and he swears he’s close to walking away. “Yes and no. I mean, it wasn’t bad, but it just didn’t feel right.”

He perks up then, floppy hair bouncing at the sudden speed. “Really?” He coughs, then fixes his watch, training his eyes towards the floor. “Erm, I mean, is that so?”

A nose scrunch. “It felt like kissing someone you’re not supposed to. Which I suppose is true. We’re better off as friends.” He relaxes. “Thinking about it, we might’ve gagged each other's mouths.” You grimace. “If that doesn't show our discomfort, then I don’t know what will.”

“Good to know.” Oscar rubs his arm, up and down, then steps closer to you. You blink. “Hey, I was meaning to ask—”

Strippers? I didn’t order any strippers. 

Hire, a male voice interjects. He means to say he didn’t—hire—any strippers. 

“Son of a…” You wince apologetically, to which he shrugs. Don’t worry. Go. Biting your lip, you nod, rushing to the living room, where Lando, Daniel, and a bunch of other randoms circle the almost nude girls with long legs. 

“I mean, I won’t turn you away, ladies,” the Brit mumbled, already wrapping his arms around their waists. They all giggle, inching closer until he’s a blushing mess. 

You snap your fingers, pointing towards the exit. “All of you need to leave.”

Is that your sister? the one with a cowboy hat whispers into his ear. He quickly shakes his head, narrowing his eyes at you like a deadly weapon. 

“No. That’s his girlfriend,” Daniel yodels, face pressed up against the couch, admiring the group of girls. “But they’re in an open relationship.”

“I’m not his girlfriend—”

“She’s not my girlfriend—”

Oscar’s jaw clenches, eyes focused on the entire commotion. The older Australian rolls his eyes. “Right. We don’t talk about it.”

“Would you stop trying to help?” you shoot back, sarcastically, and clap your hands as if you’re rounding up a new high school cheer. “I need you all out. You want money? Fine. He’ll give you money,” you declare, signaling towards Lando. 

“Hey,” he groans, instantly letting go and stepping closer to you. “They haven’t even done anything to earn it….”

Your eye twitches. “I swear to God—”

“Deal,” the redhead shoots out. “But we need a moment to come to an agreement. You know? On how much we want to ask for.”

“Perfect,” you chirp, rolling your heels. “Take out your wallet, Big Boy.”

“You used to be fun.”

“And you used to be terrified over a pair of tits when I first met you. Whatever happened?” Lando blushes profoundly before pushing you away. “Want them gone, Lando, gone!”

“Yes! Jesus Christ—let me deal with this.”

“I’m done,” you promise with your hands raised up in surrender. “But just remember what happened last time.” He frowns, cocking his head to the side. You wiggle your brows. “São Paulo.” 

Color drains his face before letting out an unhinged laugh and motioning you away. You giggle, heading back to where Oscar stands. 

“I see what you mean,” he announces. What? “How he can have a bit of a headache.” 

“See! I told you! Four years of this!” A dramatic yawn. “I’m tired.” 

A string of boo’s follow once the strippers prance out the door, waving all their money in the air. Specifically Daniel, who genuinely looks upset to see them go. Oscar leans down against the counter, the proximity between you becoming smaller. “You should get some rest, then.” But he selfishly doesn’t  mean it. He wants you to stay—to keep talking to him. 

You let out a snort, grabbing your sides. “I mean, I'm tired of being Lando’s assistant. It’s a full time job, y’know?”

“Oh.” He stands up straight again. “Right. Of course.”

You purse your lips, looking down to your shoes. “But that was actually quite thoughtful.”

She thinks I’m thoughtful, he internally swoons because that must be a good sign, right? Not everyone is thoughtful, but he is, and that must count for something. Gathering all the strength he has left—which is not much considering you blink up at him like some angel—he licks his pink lips. “Back to what I was going to say earlier before you left—”

“I wasn’t trying to step on him! I already said I was sorry!” you hear a familiar voice, instantly turning to find Anastasia kicking Daniel’s face back into place, well, since he now lays asleep on the floor. You curse beneath your breath, jumping off the island once again. 

“His head did a complete 360!” Yuki accuses, clearly panicked. “That's not normal, is it?”

“No, it is,” Pierre replies with a bored tone. “I’ve seen it happen before.”

Crouching down next to the curly haired driver, you jab his cheek before motioning Oscar and Anastasia closer. “Help me carry him to the guest room,” you instruct, already taking off your cardigan. 

The black haired girl is quick on her feet, grabbing the Australians right leg as you grab the left. Oscar, however, swallows hard at the amount of cleavage you’re suddenly displaying, but instantly snaps out of it when both you and Anastasia blink back at him. He picks up the Alpha Tauri driver’s upper body before puffing. 

You blush bright pink at the sight of his muscles pulsing against his t-shirt. “I-It’s just around the corner.” 

As soon as you make it into the room, you three carefully place Daniel onto the bed, to which he squirms before flipping over and snoring away. You motion a finger over your lips before pushing them both out. Gently closing the door behind you,you let out a breath of relief. 

Anastasia lets out a whistle. “Surprisingly not that heavy.”

Oscar scoffs. “Easy for you to say. I had to carry most of his weight.” 

She shrugs, hugging you hello and apologizing for being so late, and you’re quick to reassure her that it’s fine, though she missed the chance to see strippers give Lando a tough time. She sneers. “I didn’t even know there existed strippers in Monaco.” And then she’s off, clapping loudly at the sight of Lando giving out a round of jello shots. You sigh, rubbing your temples.

“I-I’m sorry. What were you going to say?”

He freezes. “Oh. Just that—” He panics. “Only that I like your shoes!”

You blink, deflating from within. But you try to cover it up with a soft smile. “Thanks, I guess?” Orbs flicker down toward your white Sambas. “Lando says they are overrated, but I like ‘em.”

He nods. “Yeah. I like them too.”

-

It happens one Friday afternoon—the decision. 

You’re in between races, you’re in between headaches, and you’re ready to self-implode. So, before any of that happens, you make your first decision. To go on a walk. 

It’s getting rather chilly these days, something you love, but also hate. You love it because there is a certain coziness that comes along with it, but you also hate it because you can’t always be cozy, so you’re left shivering. Much like now. But to be fair, this was your own choosing. 

The pounding that takes over your head lessens the longer you stroll, the longer you breathe actual fresh air. You don’t really think much, you mainly remain blank, but the sound of tires screeching rips you away. Squinting hard, you catch a glimpse of a lady with grocery bags flipping off the fellow driver, who shares nothing but an apologetic smile before driving off. 

“What happened? Do I have something on my face?”

Dusting your nose, then your cheek, you blush faintly. You instantly assume it’s the powdered donuts fault—the one you had gobbled up in a hurry during the drive back to the paddock. It was an early morning, and no one really made it on time when it came to early days, but you always did. And so did Oscar. So, a sleepy Zak gave you a wad of cash, and sent you two to the nearest donut shop. 

The Australian shakes his head, blinking straight ahead. “N-no, I was just checking my blind spot.”

That only makes you blush harder because in what crazy world would he be looking at you? 

A single nod. The car is quiet apart from the sound of his hands moving against the steering wheel, and the sound of the blinker clicking. It’s gloomy, too. You clear your throat. “I love it when it rains.” He hums, calmly, encouraging you to continue. “It just makes me happy.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.” You purse your lips. “I sort of wish I were home. That way I can snuggle near the window and fall asleep to the sound of light drizzle.”

The brunette quirks a brow towards the road. “That sounds nice. Like…really nice.” A pause. “Why can’t you do that here, though?”

Here—here means where you are right now. Here means this place that’s not home. Here is not close to being enough, but he doesn’t figure that one out. You blink, dragging your finger along the pink box sitting on your lap. “Trust me, I’ve tried.” A small shrug. “But it’s just not the same, y’know? There’s always something missing.”

He doesn’t waste a moment in asking. “What do you think that is?”

Taken aback by his inquiry, you let yourself surmise for a second or two before licking your lips. “Maybe a pup. To keep me company”

He semi-frowns, cocking his head to send you a deadpan expression. “A dog?”

Now it’s your turn to frown, sending him a glare. “What were you thinking?”

The red light lets him take focus on you. “Dunno. A boyfriend, maybe?”

You’re sure you’re nearly as tomato red as the light staring at you both. “What? You instantly just assume I don't have one already?”

He freezes. “Well, I, um…t-that’s not what I meant—”

“Look, I know I’m not a guys’ typical ‘dream girl’, but sheesh I’m not that unlovable. At least, I hope not, but now you’re making me second guess. I mean, your opinion must indicate everyone sees me as some sort of lonely widow.”

Oscar shakes his head, adamantly. “I don’t see you as such.” A slow pause. “A lonely widow, I mean. I find your words to not be all that true, really. You’re nice. You’re persevering, You’re beautiful. And you have a good heart.” The light translates back to green, and you’re freakishly thankful, that way he can’t see you burn up. “You could easily be anyone's dream. Whoever makes you think otherwise is a phony.”

It’s getting harder not to laugh—most likely out of skeptic shock—but you refrain. He’s simply being kind with you, but that doesn’t stop you from nearly going into cardiac arrest. His words should have been labeled with a warning. 

“Guess this world is filled with lots of phonies.”

He scoffs. “There shouldn’t be. Not when it comes to a girl like you.”

Your breath catches. “Os—”

All of a sudden, the car comes to a harsh stop, sending you flying, but not the Australian, who remains sitting up straight. An older man flips him off before riding off on his bike. You both breath hard, turning to face each other. 

“Are you okay?” he questions, voice laced with worry. 

You nod, slightly dazed. “I, um—yeah. Are you?”

A nod. “I didn’t even see where he came from.”

A weak laugh finally erupts. “Blame it on the poor innocent man— clever.”

Brown eyes soften. They flicker from your orbs back to your pouty lips. He’s only checking if you’re okay, of course. You send him a reassuring bow and he releases a heavy breath. 

“Guess I was too focused on my blind spot, once again.”

The next decision comes when you opt in to join your neighbor, Mr. Lennon, for a cup of tea after he finds you shivering. By that time, it’s raining hard, you're soaking wet, and it only makes sense to accept his kind offer. 

“Mint. To hopefully push back any upcoming cold. God, what were you thinking?”

You let out a laugh. “Not much. That’s why I was aimlessly roaming.”

“What about now?”

You halt, mug raised up to your chapped lips. “What about now?”

He smiles, softly, mixing his own tea with a heavy spoon of honey. “Did the walk help? Were you able to get the wheels rolling?”

Now you giggle loudly. “That’s not very nice! The wheels are working just fine, thank you very much.”

The light scent of pine trees enter the room as soon as he stands up to open his window, the sound of soft rain singing to you as some much needed therapy. “So? What were you pondering about out there?”

“I wasn’t pondering.”

“Walking alone in the middle of a thunderstorm?” A sore laugh. “Been there. Done that. There’s always something on someone’s mind when that happens. Which isn’t often, or usual, so that must mean you’re really stuck up on something.”

“Or someone,” you mumble beneath your breath. His brows dart up, and you sheepishly settle the mug down. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Try me.”

You blink. You don’t really talk about him out loud. Not with Lando. Not with Anastasia. Not even with your own reflection. Everything has always remained with you. A place you knew to be safe because you made it safe. But Mr. Lennon’s eyes prove to you that he’s lived enough lives—enough scenarios—to maybe understand. Even just a fraction. He watches you visibly gulp. And he knows that look. The confusion, the yearning. 

“I’m in love with this boy.”

He hums, leaning back against his wooden chair. “There’s always a boy.”

You look down. “He’s a friend of mine, which makes everything much worse because I can’t ruin that. But for the first time in all my years of living…” Round, glossy eyes stare back at him with a hopeless expression. “I really—really—want to.”

He’s attentive, he listens like some frozen statue, and maybe that’s what fuels your courage to continue speaking. “My entire life, I’ve had crushes, sure, but I’ve never loved someone. Not seriously. So, of course I’m caught off guard when I do feel that for someone who I’m not even in a relationship with.” A playful snort. “God, I feel so stupid.”

The silence that lingers is comforting. Your nerves flow away with the rain, and you feel at peace. Quietly, he clears his throat. “Can I tell you a story?”

A soft sigh. “I’m all ears.”

Gray brows furrow as if trying to recover a distant memory. “I once loved a boy, too.” Your eyes widen. Sure, you knew he was never married, never even had a kid, but you never thought of any reason as to why not. He nods, faintly. “Not many know, and not because I’m ashamed, not by any means…” A single beat. “But because real, sincere feelings are easier to ignore. Because who wants to deal with reality, right? Who wants to confess and be turned away like some dog at your door?”

Exactly, you think, nodding along. “Everyone is always going to be scared of something, but avoidant people like us are terrified about the what-ifs.” He sends a wink. “And I’m living proof that being that way won’t get you nowhere. And you'll realize sooner or later in life that you’d rather be nowhere with someone you love, than nowhere…” His eyes circle the nearly empty kitchen, despite living there for the past twenty years. “...all alone.”

Your chin wobbles. “You know you have me, right? I’m always next door.” A wet laugh follows. “Anyways, I might even join you in this lonely life, eh? Doesn’t sound half bad if I’m doing it with you.”

Tender eyes close slowly before blinking back at you. “No. I want you to be the complete opposite from me. Be different. Tell him how you feel. Even if it costs you a broken heart, tell him. Because I’m telling you right now that a broken heart is always better than the constant desire that will always follow you like the devil.”

A warm droplet rolls down your cheek as you sheepishly laugh, but he doesn’t judge. He never has. Instead, ever the true gentleman, he hands you his handkerchief. “Did you ever get the chance to tell him that you…”

His wrinkles imprint more vividly as he breathes out. “I did, but it didn’t really make the difference I had hoped for. He was already married to someone else.”

A loud sob escapes. “That’s not f-fair. You deserve to be happy with the man you love.”

“I do. But you know what?” You rub the tears away, eyes connecting. “I’ve made peace with the consequences of my own actions.”

By now the rain has died down, and so have you. With one last smile, Mr. Lennon gives your cold hand a soft squeeze.   

“Learn from my mistakes, won’t you?”

-

That same night, as you cried over a bottle of wine, you made your third and final decision. And you would execute it all the next time you saw him, no matter the outcome. 

But now that you spoke about it once to someone, you felt almost invincible. Which is why you called Lando. 

You what? 

A wince. “You can’t tell him, okay? I’m legitimately trusting you with this!” He opens his mouth, but you’re quick to signal him off. “Including Ana.”

“Wow. I thought she’d know.” You shrug because you don’t really have an explanation for not having had confided in her, but you know deep down that you’re not really into playing a game of Cupid, and that’s exactly what she'd turn this into. The Brit nods, sympathetically. “Alright. I won’t tell a single soul.”

“Thank you.”

“Are you going to tell him how you feel?”

His question comes out hesitant—like he’s afraid of scaring you away from the possibility—but it doesn’t. Instead, you nod, to which he’s extra surprised because you’ve never been the kind to. “That’s the main reason I told you any of this. Because I wanted to ask you if you knew if he has a girlfriend or not? Someone he’s trying to pursue? I’d hate to…intervene.”

Lando let’s put a soft smile, dimples imprinting neatly onto his face. “I mean, he’s particularly private—you know him—but I’ve never heard him mention having a girl. It doesn’t seem like he does. Go for it. What do you have to lose?”

“My dignity? A good friend?”

Silently, he grimaces because even he can see how much this all means to you—how much you’re scared. So, to boost up your confidence—which is something he definitely doesn’t lack—he flashes a loopy grin. “He probably likes you, anyways.”

You come to a fast halt. Suddenly, painting your nails isn’t your top priority. “Really? You think so?” He nods, and you can’t help but smile back. “What’d he say?”

“Well, as I already stated before, he keeps his things locked up pretty well. But I do recall one time…” He closes his eyes harshly. Then, he snaps his fingers loudly. “I believe in Hungary. He was on a high. And we shared a bottle of champagne to celebrate. So, he sort of let loose. Like insanely loose.”

“And?” you push, eagerly trying to get whatever he has stuck in his throat out of him. The green eyed boy snickers. 

“He wasn’t very clear, but he did say he had a crush on a girl. Someone he really wanted to get to know. But that  things were a little bit difficult.” You nod, urging him to continue. “I asked why, and he said it was because she had a good heart, or something of that sort? Good intentions? Can’t remember—and that he didn’t want to ruin it.”

Your breath hitches.

And you have a good heart. You could easily be anyone’s dream. 

-

Ironically, you’re huddled in Lando’s flat once again when it happens. Well. Almost happens. It’s filled with a few McLaren members because he insisted on hosting a nice brunch. And it was. Nice, you mean. 

“Pretty,” Anastasia says, sending a soft smack towards your ass. You yelp, swatting her hand away, and pulling your skirt downward. She snickers. “You should tie your hair up more often. Let’s everyone admire such an angel face.”

“Stop it,” you hiss, but can’t hide the pink flush. “But thank you.” 

She grins, eyes crinkling. Black hair sways as she moves to the beat of the music, nursing her drink. “Nice to have a break…”

“Definitely.”

At some point, she slithers away, leaving you all alone on the balcony. Which was quite lonesome until he came along. Oscar scrunched his nose, meekly. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright. Don’t own this place, do I?”

He lets off a raw chuckle. Deeper than when you first met him, and you come to the realization that a lot about him has changed. His hair is longer, his neck is thicker, and his shoulders are wider. But his smile and eyes remain the same. Boyish.

“Thinking?”

You sigh, admiring the ocean set out right in front of you. “Thinking, yes. A lot these days.”

And if he’s patient enough, he’d notice the way your hands shake. Tiny vibrates, but still. He’d notice the way you bite down on your lip, brushing it along the way. He’d notice the way you blink feverishly, like even the wind hurts. 

And he is. He is a patient person. So, he does notice. 

“Do you know what song this is?”

Brows furrow, deep in thought. And he’s quick to note that the ticks you had are coming to an easy halt. Mentally, though, you’re cursing yourself out because you do know. You do know the song that flows nicely into your ears, but simply having him next to you is what’s making you forget. How dare he have that kind of power over you?

“I know it,” you start. “But I can’t seem to remember right now...”

The brunette gently nods his head along to the beat. His eyes close, and his hair delicately tussles, and suddenly he’s the only thing you see. “Sex,” he says. You blush, ripping your gaze away before he catches you in the act. Oscar laughs. “It’s Sex by The 1975. How could I forget?”

“Oh yeah.”

The guitar screeches when the volume somehow gets louder, despite not being inside. “Would have killed me not to get it right. My sister listens to it all the time.”

Plump lips pressed together. “You have a sister?” But you know the answer to that question, of course you do. You’re a girl. You’ve done your research, even when you pinched yourself not to. 

He nods. “Three, actually. Talk about a headache, am I right?”

And it’s almost nostalgic—your laugh. Like it might be one he heard in his past life, but in his current one, can't remember. But it’s okay if he doesn’t because at least he knows he can learn it. And he has. 

“You look really pretty when you laugh that way. Insanely so.”

You can’t seem to register his words. The way they come off as soft and ginger as they could possibly get. As if he really means it. And for the first time since your first interaction with him almost two years ago—you sort of believe he might. 

“You’re just saying that?” you question as some test, round eyes challenging him into finally spitting out the truth. The same truth you carry. He shakes his head, taking a step closer.

“I mean it.” 

Like a sudden magnet, you two are hesitantly connecting closer and closer together before either of you could stop it. Not that either of you would. The Australian towers over you, almost caging you like some endangered species he’s afraid of slipping away and going extinct. 

You swallow, lashes fluttering, and he smiles at the sight—melts. You’ve always been reserved. Quiet. Shy. And so has he, so he can’t really judge you, but he’s willing to be different—just once in his life—to get what he’s been wanting for a long time now. 

His eyes follow your lips. Admires how plump they are. How they’re the perfect shade of pink. So, when he leans in and you don’t pull away? He thinks he might explode with the need to kiss you. One time. If he’s lucky, just—once. 

“You’ve always been my dre—”

“There you two are!” Anastasia cheers, zigzagging to you both as an apologetic Lando follows right after. By now, Oscar has jumped far away from you, and you’re left feeling empty and lost, blinking at an alarming rate. “We’ve been looking all over!” A hiccup. “What were you doing?” Your lips remain open but Oscar is the first to let out an awkward cough.

“We were just talking about…logistics!” He turns to you, sparing you a pleading look. “W-weren’t we?”

You finally come to, nodding slowly, eyes buzzing between the two McLaren drivers and your best friend, who wobbles from left to right. “Yeah, I….we—logistics, and whatnot.” A beat. “Doesn’t matter.”

He flinches, avoiding your doleful stare. Oscar forces such a bright smile—the kind that can’t go unnoticed by even the biggest idiot on earth—and nods in agreement. “She’s right. It doesn’t matter.”

Lando analyzes you, then his teammate, and wishes he had done more to keep Anastasia from barging in. But really, was this some sign? Maybe you were some delusional little girl who truly believed she had a chance with the boy next door. The one everyone wants, but only one will get to have.

And let’s face it. 

It was never going to be you.

-

You’d make an excellent detective in your next life, you’re sure of it. But for now, you’re just some brokenhearted assistant who mourns the death of her what-ifs. Someone who is really good at picking up on clues. 

It’s right before Christmas—right before Anastasia’s birthday party—and you’re curling your hair quite poorly. You daze off every now and then, you apply mascara almost zombie-like, and you’re dreading even showing up. Have you been avoiding him? Yes. Yes, you have. Have you been good at it? Only the best, if we’re being truthful here. And were you ready to face him without feeling the need to bolt? 

Nope. Not in this lifetime nor the next.

But still, you force yourself to finish getting ready because this isn’t about you. This isn’t about him. It’s about being there for your friend. 

Mindlessly, on the drive there, pouting in the back of the yellow cab, you click onto Instagram and the first thing you do is smile at the birthday post Anastasia had posted not even five minutes ago. You scroll, smile wider, and then come to a harsh pause. The kind that makes your throat close up. The kind that makes you stop breathing. 

The kind that lets you know—

You’ve lost.

His arms are tied around her waist, his head nuzzles between her neck, but you can still tell it’s him. His hazel hair can’t go unnoticed. Maybe to someone else, but not you. 

Then, as if all odds are against you, your feed refreshes and you’re left far more dumbfounded. 

She appears in most of his pictures because why not? It’s his girlfriend's birthday, it goes as expected. Museum dates. Pictures of them with each other's families. And you feel greedy like never before because—why couldn't that be you? 

Venmo or cash? You look up, making eye contact with your taxi driver who looks just as tired as you. You press your lips together into a fine line. Digging into your purse, you grab all that you have and jump out of the cab. 

It’s chilly out and the lights are beautifully hung, but it doesn’t do you any good. You just want to go home. Curl up in bed and die. Dig a hole—self-suffocate—who cares. And you’re ready to turn around, go back and apologize to Mr. Lennon for not doing better. You really thought you had it in you, but it just wasn’t enough. 

Only then, the door swings open and Pierre curls a brow. Kika waves from behind “He thought you were some serial killer. He’s been watching too much Dateline.” The brunette scurries over, throwing her arms around you and takes a step back. “Come in before you freeze to death.”

But even that didn’t sound too bad. You sheepishly thank her, following the couple back in. A string of jazz cradles the warm lit living room and the scent of apple pie makes you inhale sharply. A giggle stirs up behind you. Anastasia grins.

“You’re here!”

All of a sudden, you hate her smile. You hate her laugh. You hate her entirely. But you also don’t. You can’t hate her smile. You can’t hate her laugh. You can’t hate her entirely. Because even though you feel like she owes you loyalty, that’s not really true. She had zero idea about your feelings towards Oscar and she won. Fair and square. That doesn’t mean you had to like it.

“Happy birthday, Annie.” Hugging her, you giggle against her ear when she jumps up and down, nearly knocking you two over. “For you. From me.”

She wiggles her neat brows, green eyes buzzing with suspicion. “Is it a vibrator again?”

You blush. “No. Even better.”

“Wow! Even better?” She rips the small bag open, eyes widened double in their size. “Oh my God, you got me the Mary Jane’s I wanted?”

“Well, you kept bugging me, and so I thought—”

“D'accord, je comprends. I love them, thank you.” Grabbing your wrist, she tugged you into the empty hallway, and you can already feel her buzzing with excitement. Your stomach churns. “I wanted to tell you as soon as he asked me out—I really did—but he insisted on keeping it between us two for a while, and I told him no, I had to tell you, but then I understood that maybe it was for the best, and I’ve always liked him—”

Every word makes you feel smaller and smaller because the light in her eyes gives it all away. She, too—much like you—is in love with Oscar Piastri. You shake your head, sharing a light laugh. “I totally get it. There’s no need to explain.” 

The green eyed girl visibly relaxes, shoulders rolling back. “I knew you’d understand. Oscar was right—you have a good heart.”

Ana, Yuki just spilled wine on your coach, Daniel rattles from the other side of the room, pointing accusingly towards his teammate who rubs the cushion with his Dior sweatshirt. She sighs. Be right back!

At that moment, you don’t care if you wind up with a deadly case of hypothermia, you simply walk out of the warm house.

“What are you doing? You’re going to get sick.”

Screwing your eyes shut seems to be the only answer to help your mending heart into not breaking completely. And fuck him—fuck him for sounding so goddamn caring. 

You turn with a soft smile, shrugging nonchalantly. “Won’t really make a difference, I already feel sick.” You cough for emphasis. “See?” Oscar rolls his eyes, ignoring the poor excuse, and hands you his puffer jacket. You shake your head. Take it. “No.” He frowns. Why not? Rocks crunch with every step he takes. “It wouldn’t be right.”

“What? Borrowing a jacket from a friend?”

“Borrowing my best friend's boyfriend’s jacket.”

His stomach drops, rolling with a wave of anxiety as he tries to not show his uncomfort. “She told you?”

Your teeth grind harder. “That, and you both posted about a thousand pictures together. Wasn’t that difficult to understand what was going on.” A sore laugh. “I’m happy for you two, though. Really. I am.”

“You are?”

Sending a nasty glare that you tried to keep in for the life in you, you turn over to face him, nose rosy. “Yes. Over the fucking moon.”

He flinches. “Listen, about that day at Lando’s house. I-I-I was caught up in the moment. I shouldn’t have said what I said, o-or tried to kiss you—”

“You���re a phony, you know that, right?”

Another flinch. “I’m trying to apologize to you. I’m sorry. I feel bad, okay?”

Tears well up inside your eyes. Somewhere deep inside your chest, you feel a harsh sting, and still that doesn’t compare to his pity. You let out a scoff, crossing your arms. “You feel bad, for what? For messing with my emotions, or for getting with my best friend?” You poke his chest hard, but he remains as still as a brick wall, a pained expression mapped out. “Which one is it?”

“For all of it!” He grabs your face, making you freeze under his fire-like touch. “I loved you—God—I loved every inch of you. Your humor, your heart, your jokes that never land, the awkward giggles that follow afterward—everything. There was not a single thing you could do that could have pushed me away.”

“Then what happened?” you whisper, eyes tracing his pink lips, trying to enjoy his hands. They’re calloused, sure, but they’re by far the closest thing you’ve had, so nothing else matters. His breath hitches, soft eyes looking down at you in complete defeat. You grimace. “Why was I not enough for you to try?”

His hands drop. Brown locks shakes as he rubs his eyes, like this is all some part of a fever dream. Maybe it was. The Australian frowns. “I could ask you the same thing.”

It’s a slap in the face, and it burns like never before because you know he’s right. “I wanted to tell you!” A shaky breath. “I was going to tell you.”

Leaves rustle. “You were?”

“Yes,” you confess, nodding adamantly. “That day at Lando’s place—I wanted to tell you.”

The McLaren driver bites his tongue hard, blinking rapidly. “W-what would you have said?”

“That I loved you too.”

He can’t hide his pain just by hearing those words. He scrunches his nose. He nods robotically. And he keeps his eyes trained towards the ground, like he’s in the middle of solving a puzzle. 

“I really did like you. From the moment we met.” Finally, he looks up, round eyes searching for any sign of intimacy. If there’s any left—any you still save for him. “Do you remember the day we first met?”

“A little bit. Yeah.”

A second ticks by. “I do. Remember it all, I mean. Think back to it quite often.” He lets out a boyish grin, crinkles forming, making your heart flutter. “You took my breath away.” 

And as if humanly possible, despite the icy air, your cheekbones flush harder as you bite back a giddy smile. “You barely even noticed m—”

“You wore a white ribbon. Hair half up, half down. Denim overalls with your initials sewn onto them. Emerald earrings.” You blink, clearly taken aback by his polished memory. His eyes soften. “I’ll always notice you.”

-

Anastasia pecks the Australians cheek, giggling after each one. Oscar smiles, letting out a shy laugh. From the corner, seated next to Lando, you sigh sadly. The Brit bumps his shoulder up against yours. What’s wrong? But you must not have heard him, or you ignore him, but he, too, has eyes. 

“I swear I didn’t know a thing about them,” he whispers. “If I had, I would have warned you, you know that—”

“Lando,” you cut him off, voice weak and mellow. “It’s okay, it’s not your fault.”

He frowns. “I know that, but—”

“It’s not your fault,” you repeat, this time more firm. He swallows, nodding hesitantly. With a soft laugh, you poke his ribs and he’s quick to let out a yelp. “Just want to forget, you know?”

Lando hums. “Understood.”

Anastasia clinks her spoon against her mug. The one you each painted differently in that one pottery class years ago. She grins. “I’m so glad all of you could make it, really, it means a lot.” Her eyes crinkle sweetly towards Oscar who traces shapes down her back. She blushes for him—the same way you do. “I feel like…I finally have everything I ever wanted.”

A string of oohh's echo the room, whistles ringing. She laughs, head falling back, and he lets out a single chuckle, rosy cheeks making everyone grow louder. Meanwhile, you stay silent, focusing on Lando’s shoes. The Brit winces, rubbing your shoulder awkwardly. 

Daniel yodels, raising his beer. “Well, in that case, I feel like I do too!” He hiccups, making Pierre and Yuki snicker. “A hot girlfriend, good ‘ol friends, and a nice pair of abs.”

“They are nice,” Lily mumbles, earning her a soft smack from Alex who rolls his eyes. 

Carlos cackles. “Me next—um, okay. A good team, my girlfriend, and…and—my hair.”

“Narcissist,” Lando whispers, trying to get a good laugh out of you. And it works. You giggle, muffling the sound with the back of your hand. Oscar perks up, orbs floating over to where you and the Brit whisper to one another, smiles only growing wider. His jaw clenches. Either way, you tune out all the constant chatter after hearing how Pierre was grateful for having a massive cock. 

“I really hope nothing changes between us.”

You laugh. “I think it might be a bit too late for that.”

The Australian scratches his shoes against the wet pavement. He agrees. He won’t admit it, but he agrees. Everything has changed. Timidly, he glances over at you, biting the inside of his cheek. His gaze burns—just like always—and you turn to face him.

By now your tears have dried, but your heartbreak still continues. Something deep inside tells you that it will for as long as you live. You despise yourself for letting any of this get out of hand. For letting your fear of rejection play a big part in losing him. He smiles.

“I love you, okay?”

You smile. “I love you, too.”

Your voice sounds sweet—just like honey. And if it’s a lie, just to make him feel better, then he’s a grateful bloke. He might not have your heart—not completely—and he might not have your hand in his, but he’s fine with that. Because he’s heard all he’s needed to hear. And he can live at peace.

Oscar grins, leaning down to kiss your cheek. It’s tender, just the way you pictured it. You smell like flowers, just like he had dreamt. He pulls away. “You can always talk to me. Whenever. I’ll always be there for you.”

“Thank you. But I won’t bother you too much.” His brows furrow, mouth opening to protest before you wave him off with a tired smile. “Don’t want to vent to you about…well—you.”

“What about you?” Anastasia squeals, making your jump in place. 

“What about me?” 

She rolls her eyes, theatrically. Oscar remains as still as a statue, enjoying the moment to admire you without having to explain why—all eyes were on you, after all. “Have you ever gotten everything you ever wanted?”

Wistfully, your eyes look up, connecting with the ones you know so well. You admire his boyish features one last time before looking down onto your lap and then focusing on Anastasia.

“No. But I once got very close.”

taglist: @blueflorals @starmanv @coolio2195 @lovrsm @weekendlusting@chanshintien @brune77e @myownwritings @timmychalametsstuff @milasexutoire@alesainz @c-losur3 @darleneslane @togazzo @urfavnoirette @namgification @lpab @d3kstar @anniee-mr @nebarious @notkaryna

[nanivinsmoke]

❥ Chauffeur .

❥ old!manlogan x fem!reader

summary: mean old logan can’t help but to push the best thing away in his life. and you can’t help but to let go of your worst.

❥ tags: stubbornness, age gap (readers in her late 20s), reader is a mutant, old man logan having a wet dream, car sex, riding, creampies, possibly pregnancy, reader is very rich and established, brat taming, reader’s boyfriend is an ASSHOLE, logan is an asshole but that’s nothing new, etc…

note: we all wanna ride, old man logan. also, stepping away from jjk for a bit. wc: 4.9k

Everyday was the same when you got into the car. There was a smile on your face and you greeted him, even if you didn’t get a response most of the time—you still treated him with kindness. He was your driver after all and you were trusting him with your life.

“45th and Madison, please.” You placed your purse into your lap and buckled up as he pulled off from your house, keeping his eyes on the road.

“How was your night Logan? Get any rest?” You stared at the side of his face, taking in his rugged features. “Good.” Was all he grunted, hands gripping the steering wheel as he navigated the busy streets of New York. You didn’t bother to question him anymore, not wanting to piss him off on this beautiful morning.

The car ride was silent on the way to your company, the only thing that couldn’t be heard was the soft hum of the car and the sound of the air conditioner blowing its cool air. And when he pulled up to your job, you opened your mouth to speak, “thanks, and here—.” you leaned over and handled him an envelope full of money, the scent of cigars and cologne invading your nostrils; making you swoon.

He muttered a thanks and you quickly got out of the car, “I’ll text you what time to pick me up! Later Logan~” You waved and smiled, watching the old man pull off into the nearby traffic—before you entered the double doors to your million dollar company.

You were one of the top businesswomen in the world, employing the most mutants and paying them fairly. You started this company when you were just a teen, not seeing any jobs for mutants when you were growing up—so you decided to make that change. You wanted a safe place for mutants to be able to work in, something like your mentor; Charles Xavier wanted.

You had to do it for your people, especially when the whole world was against you all.

Even though you were a multimillionaire and you owned a license, you didn’t have time to drive yourself around. You hired Logan after a friend recommended him. They praised him for everything that he did for them, he was more than a driver, and when got the chance to meet him in person—you were sold.

You grew very fond of the older man as time passed. He plagued your mind as you worked, his face clouding your thoughts while you were in important meetings—driving you insane. It was clear as day that you had a crush on him, however despite how you felt; you knew he would never think of you like the way you thought of him.

“Will you have dinner with me tonight? Wear that red dress that makes you look like a fucking supermodel?” The voice of your business partner and boyfriend broke you out of your daze, while the two of you ate lunch in the high-end lounge your company acquired.

Eric, was a guy you met at a press conference that supported you when you wanted to have more mutants employed and treated as normal in the world, when the public was against your kind. He was intelligent and an all around amazing person, and when he asked you out one day—the two of you immediately hit it off. You were happy to have him…..but there was something you didn’t like. He would put himself first before you.

He did this a couple of times, putting him and his buddies before you; and you called him out on it—but he always apologized and told you it wouldn’t happen again. Liar.

“Will it just be us this time? Last time it was me and your frat brothers. And I hate that night, you left me all alone.” You pouted and he chuckled before leaning over to kiss your lips. “It’ll just be us this time, I promi—hold that thought,” his phone started to ring and he quickly pulled it out; talking to whoever was on the other end. You sighed and continued munching on your food, before you headed back to your office; alone.

Logan was already outside of your office when you finally exited your company’s building. You hopped into the truck and he pulled off once you buckled up, heading into the direction of your house. “How was your day Logan?” You looked at him through the mirror, studying those hazel eyes of his, which connected onto yours as he answered you.

“Good.” You smiled and relaxed into your seat, enjoying the ride back home. “Oh, Eric’s and I are going out to eat. You can come inside while I get ready, it shouldn’t take long.” You beamed and he tensed up in his seat. You couldn’t see it, but Logan rolled his eyes and gripped the steering wheel at the mention of your boyfriend. He wasn’t fond of him, thought the guy was an asshole from the moment he met him. He felt like you deserved better, he knew you did.

But, who was he to judge? He was no saint himself.

After he pulled up to your house and the two of you entered, you were immediately greeted by your calico—Persia. She purred and rubbed against your leg before she spotted the tall man a few steps behind you. The cat inched over to him and sniffed his pants leg, before she rubbed herself against him; purring once more. Logan grunted and you smiled, reaching down to rub the soft furred animal, “she’s never don’t that before, she usually hisses at strangers. she must really like you.”

As you stepped deeper into your house, putting down your things and slowly stripping out of your work clothes, before turning to the grumpy old man standing at your front door, “He wants me to meet him there. I’m going to get ready, in the meantime are you hungry? Food’s in the fridge.”

“I’m good.” His voice was gruff and his face was blank, when he connected eyes with you, moving away from your cat. You unbuttoned the last black button to your matching button up, leaving you in your deep green matching underwear set—causing him to look away. “I have a huge liquor cabinet, help yourself.”

He watched as you ascended up the stairs before shaking his head and entering your kitchen. He admired your boldness, comfortable enough to undress in front of him, but he felt like he didn’t deserve to see you like that. No one did. Especially that fucked face motherfucka, Eric.

Logan took a look at your cabinet, impressed with your collection of wines, cognacs and other strong liquids; but he was more impressed to see this thirty year aged whiskey you had. Hibiki Whiskey, his favorite. He smiled to himself and grabbed it along with a glass, pouring a nice bit into it; before downing it—the smoothness flowing down his throat beautifully.

He sat on your couch, sipping on the dark liquor, while taking a look around your house. He found comfort in the decor, your home felt….safe. Something he hadn’t felt in ages. It was so safe that he couldn’t help but drift off into sleep, something he hardly did lately.

He must’ve been sleeping for a while, deep into his dream; this one a little different from the one’s he usually had about you.. You had frequented his dream world on occasion when he did sleep. Your warm smile was something he saw on a daily basis; when you were cooking for him or sometimes the two of you appeared in a field of flowers—your smile overshadowed the sun. But, this one was a lot different. You were on top, riding him.

Everything felt and looked so realistic. The same emerald green set you wore was glued to your body. The panties were pulled to the side, your essence sticking to them and his cock; while you bounced. Your body looked so beautiful and he knew he shouldn’t be dreaming about you like this, but he couldn’t help himself—especially when you turned around; face contorted in sheer arousal. And then he lost it, when you opened up your mouth and moaned his name.

“Logan~” fuck, he could feel you clench down on him, as you brought your ass down on him again—moaning his name once more. But this time you were louder, repeating his name over and over again; his tired hazel eyes shooting open, staring at your own. You were standing in front of him, wearing a beautiful ruby red dress; which clung to your body and accentuated your curves, smiling at him.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. But, I need your help zipping up my dress—please~.” He nodded, shifting in his spot to hide the boner that was poking through his black corduroy pants—reaching over to help zip you up. His rough fingers melted into your soft skin, as he held his hand on your upper back for support; his mind going right back to his dream. Fuck, he was going to hell for dreaming about you like that.

You looked beautiful, standing a little taller than usual—thanks to your gold heels that matched your jewelry. You decided to curl your natural hair, which framed your soft made-up face. He could stare at you all day.

“Thanks. I’m ready to go!” And there you go with that smile, that slowly melted his cold heart.

You waited outside of the restaurant in the car, waiting for Eric to show up. It had been ten minutes since you arrived and he still wasn’t there, wasn’t answering his phone either. Your gut told you to leave, but you couldn’t bring yourself to it—you were hoping he would show up. So, to get your mind off of him, you sparked a conversation up with Logan.

“Hey Logan, tell me about yourself. What do you do besides driving?” He clenched his teeth and kept a grip on the car’s steering wheel.

“Nothing.”

“Really? I heard you were a bodyguard and a hitman. What was that—“ He turned around and glared at you, cutting you off as he spoke. “Listen. I’m not one of your fucking girlfriends you sit and gossip with. Got it?” His voice was deep and scary, while his eyes told a different story. However, you nodded and looked away, blinking back the tears that wanted to leave your own.

Then, your phone rang and you immediately answered. On the other end of the line was Eric, apologizing about not showing up and begging for the two of you to reschedule. You swallowed the lump in your throat and told him that it was alright, saying you were tired anyways; before hanging up and slumping into your seat. “Take me home.” Was all that you could muster up to say, before a stream of tears cascaded down your face—ruining your makeup.

The car ride was silent, besides the sounds of your sobs—which slowly broke the old man. He kept glancing at you through the mirror, feeling like a dick because he played a part in your sadness too. But, an apart of him felt angry, he wanted to kick Eric’s ass for standing you up. How could he not see what was right in front of him?

As the car halted in front of your house, you immediately got out, slamming the door behind you before you sped walked to the front door—not looking back—too embarrassed to speak to him. And one he saw that you were safely inside, he drove off and headed into the direction of the nearby bar—ready to drink the night away.

This was one of the worst nights ever and neither of you would forget it.

The following days were like a blur for you. You hadn’t been to work for a week, taking some time off to try and understand your mental.

That day played in your mind over and over, you were hurt twice that night. But, the look on Logan’s face haunted you. You could tell there was more behind those eyes, besides all that anger, something else laid behind them—and you wanted to know more. No matter how much he tried to push you away.

Currently, you were sitting on your couch with Persia by your side, eating ice cream and watching whatever was on tv—ignoring the spam calls from Eric; when you were startled by a loud pound on your front door. You looked at the door then at Persia, fists clenched as your powers started to surge; before you started to creep towards the door. You swung it open, ready to pummel whoever was on the other side, until you saw who was standing on your porch.

Your eyes widened and your mouth dropped, looking at the older man who was covered in blood and holding onto his arm. “Logan! What the hell happened?” You asked, helping him into your home and shutting the door afterwards—to hide him from any nosey neighbors; before you ushered him into your downstairs bathroom. He sat down on the toilet with a clang, before he started to remove his clothes; with your help.

“Whose blood is this?” You asked, putting his bloody beater into the hammer behind you before inspecting his scarred face. “Most of it was someone else’s. Don’t worry, I’ll heal.” He moved away from your touch, but you immediately pulled him back; your eyes piercing him.

“I know, but until your healing factor kicks in, im gonna help. And i'm not asking.” He chuckled and nodded his head, before you used your powers on him—stopping the blood from leaking out until his own power’s kicked in. One of his thick eyebrows raised in confusion, before you answered him.

“Blood manipulation. Now let’s put that shoulder back in place. Here, bite down on this.” You handed him a washcloth, but he declined.

“Just do it, princess. I can take it.” He reassured and you stared at him for a moment, before whispering an ‘okay’. Without warning, you gripped his arm and pushed it back into his socket, making him yell out in pain—his claws unsheathing in the process.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” You apologized, making him shake his head in response. His claws retracted and he pulled you in by your waist—his body heat warming you as you stood next to him. His hazel eyes searched all over your face, lingering on your plump lips before backing up to your soft irises, “need a drink, right now.”

The two of you sat in your kitchen, sharing a bottle of ten year old cognac, while Logan shared stories about what he did—answering your question from last week. “I also take care of Charles….Charles Xavier.” You swallowed the smooth liquor, before responding.

“Oh, I knew that already.” He raised an eyebrow and you giggled, continuing. “He accidentally called on your phone, thinking I was Taco Bell, until I spoke with him. He’s a funny guy, I’ve always imagined he was……I was a big fan of his when I was younger.” There was some silence, as he thought about the Professor and his current state.

You got up from your spot and put your glass in the sink, done drinking for night, before going into the fridge for a snack—until his deep voice made you stop moving. “Look, princess….about the other night—“

“It’s fine. No need to apologize.”

“No, but I need to. I was a jerk and you just wanted to get to know me. So, I'm sorry.” He was now standing in front of you, towering over you, still shirtless from earlier. Your eyes trailed over his hairy, toned abs, before you looked up at his beautiful rugged face—pressing your thighs together as you felt that familiar pulsing between your legs. You nodded and turned on your heels to leave, but his rough hands pulled you back; making you stumble, before he caught you.

“What happened to you and what’s his face?” He spoke and you snorted, rolling your eyes at the thought of Eric. “He’s an asshole, who likes to waste my time.“

Logan clenched his teeth, feeling himself get upset at the mere thought of him mistreating you. “Dick can’t see what the hell he has right in front of him?” You blushed, and bit your bottom lip, your smaller hands reaching up to toy with his platinum dog tags. “Neither can you.”

He froze and you stopped moving, eyes slowly looking up at his, until he leaned down and pulled you in a wet, sloppy kiss. His hands immediately went down to your ass, squeezing the soft fat through your tiny black shorts; something he thought doing for a while now. You squealed when he picked you up and placed you onto the countertop behind you, never breaking his lips from yours. Despite being an old man, he still had the same strength he did when he was younger.

He kissed down from your lips to your chest that was hidden behind your hot pink beater, nipples standing at attention. He circled the imprint of them with his tongue, making you moan out, before he made his way down to your clothed cunt; your arousal plaguing his nose.

“Knew you wanted this since earlier, could smell her calling out for me~” He swiped his tongue over your clothed slit, slick already staining the dark fabric. He pulled the shorts down with ease, hazel eyes growing darker as he was met face to face with your bare cunt; your essence making your puffy lips glisten.

“Shit.” He cursed, loving the sight of your pretty pussy dripping just for him, he couldn’t help but to dive in and enjoy the meal you had set right in front of him. The sensation of his beard and his tongue rubbing against you, made you moan out; back arching off of the counter and your hands tugging on his salt n pepper colored hair—grinding against his face.

He worked wonders on your clit, sucking on the sensitive bud, forcing more and more of your sweet translucent arousal from your aching hole; building up your orgasm. Logan spat against your soaked cunt, using his fingers to rub it all over soft lips; before pushing a thick finger into your hole—making you yell out a series of curse words.

“Gonna cum—f-fuck! Just like that Logan!” He continued to lap up your juice and pump his fingers in and out of you, curling them—making them punch your spot over and over; making you gush all over him. The grip you had on his hair was tight as you came, but he ignored it and continued to draw out your orgasm; before pulling away and pressing his wet lips against yours.

The kiss was sloppy, filled with nothing but hunger as you licked every inch of his wet face, tasting yourself; a low hum leaving his lips. And as your hand reached down to feel the bulge in his pants, he pulled away—making you whimper. But, when he backed further away and wouldn’t look at you, you noticed something was wrong.

“Logan?” You started, slipping off the counter, legs wobbling as you stood and walked over to him; only for him to back away once more.

“Gotta go. This was a mistake.” And before you could protest, he made a beeline to your front door, opening it and shutting it behind him; not bothering to grab his shirt or turning to look at you.

What the actual fuck?

You returned back to work the following day. Logan dropped you off of course, but he barely acknowledged you—evident he didn’t want to talk about what happened yesterday. But, you needed to talk about it, wondering what made him stop. Surely he didn’t think you would just be alright with him eating your pussy and making you cum, and not feel something about him?

However, you would deal with the grumpy old man later. Today, you had to face the asshole of the year, Eric. You left the car with a simple ‘bye’ to Logan, before taking the elevator ride up to your office’s floor, trying to push yesterday’s events out of your mind.

Your baby blue heels clicked on the wooden floor as you sashayed down the walk way, making heads turn and people cheer; excited for your return. However as you approached your office, you were stopped by your assistant, who had a look of worry on their face.

“What’s the matter?” You questioned, looking at your office before going back to your assistant. They gulped and prepared themselves to tell you what lies in your office.

“Mr. Eric’s in there...and he’s not alone. He’s with another—“ you cut them off and storm past them, opening the wooden door, eyes glued to the horrific sight in front of you. Your boyfriend was balls deep into your new intern, having her bent over your crisp white desk.

The sound of the door slamming shut startled them and the girl screamed, scrambling to pull her skirt down, while apologizing to you frantically. You held up your finger and shushed her, motioning to the door so she could leave. And once she did, you immediately sauntered over to the guilty male—body temperature increasing by the second.

“How long?” You questioned, your tone flat and emotionless. He stuttered, but then he looked down and looked back up—a devious smirk on his face.

“A good couple of months now. Why’d you think i pushed for you to hire her? What, did you think I’d actually love someone like you?” He chuckled, circling around you, while you raised an eyebrow. “And what does that mean? Someone like me?”

“Your kind! A fucking mutant! I’ve been using you from the beginning, I just wanted to get my hands on this company—have you mutants under my control. Starting with you—“ You set him flying back with a punch to his cheek, making him fly through the door; knocking it down.

All you saw was red as you marched over to him, your employees shocked at what was going down, but none of them dared to step in. “This….this is what I expected from you people! Pure chaos and violence.” He smirked, blood pooling from his mouth as he spewed his hate.

Using your powers, you were able to make more blood flow out of him; making a wound in his lung—which caused him to cough up some more blood. And as you raised your fist to punch him once more, your wrist was caught—stopping your movements. You turned to see Logan, his hazel eyes begging for you to stop.

He smelled danger when he was on his way up to your office, since you had forgotten your phone in the car he wanted to bring it to you. Only to be met with you about to kill a man.

“He’s had enough. Let him go.” You knew better than to protest, so you used your powers to close the internal wound on Eric; calming yourself down as Logan pulled you back into his arms. “Get him out of here, he’s fired!”

You were fuming in the car. Angry was an understatement, you were pissed. You were humiliated. You were hurt. Logan couldn’t stop checking on you through the rear view mirror, until he decided to pull over to the side of the road—putting the car in park. He hopped out of the car and opened up your side door, nodding for you to get out.

“Logan—what are you—“

“Let it out. It helps to let everything out.” You squinted and chuckled. How ironic of him to try and help you not keep things bottled inside.

“You can’t be fucking serious! You of all people, trying to give advice on their feelings? You’re the fucking king of keeping things in!” You stepped closer to him, but he didn’t budge, letting you get it all out of your system.

“You pushed me away from the beginning! Then you come in my fucking house like a wounded dog and then on top of it all—you made me have the best orgasm of my life and let me fall in love with you! Who does that!” Hot tears rolled down your pretty face, while you poked into his broad chest with each word.

You were right. He did push you away. He couldn’t open his heart, his stubbornness would allow him. But, he couldn’t let his past haunt his future, not anymore. So, he decided right then and there to finally open up and let you in.

Logan pulled you in close, the smell of his cologne and the cigar he smoked earlier was soothing; it warmed you—which made it easier for you to accept his kiss. All of that anger washed over you while your tongues danced with one another. You reached up and wrapped your arms around his neck; while gripping your hips and picking you up—making his way over to the car and placing you in the seats, laying you on your back.

He wasted no time and tugged off your clothes, your grey dress falling to the floor; along with your panties and bra. He stepped back, taking a moment to bask in your glory. You were beautiful and he was going to cherish this moment forever.

His slacks dropped to his ankles and you watched with lidded eyes as he pulled his cock out, making them widen. “Knew you were huge~” you said, your slick pooled and dribbled down your crack, making the black leather seats glisten underneath you.

Logan grabbed his girth, rubbing against your swollen clit; eliciting moans from your sweet lips—coating himself in your fluids. Angling himself at your entrance, he pushed himself in; stretching you as he eased himself in.

“Good—…..girl. That’s it, princess—take all of it” He grunted, praising you as you were able to take all of him in one go. You winced, his tip pressing into your cervix, making you inch away from him—only to be pulled back in. He wanted you to sit there and take it. He was going to give you exactly what you wanted. Some dick.

He held your hips, your legs wrapped around his waist, as he began to move inside of you—his strokes were deep and powerful; making your eyes roll back and your lids flutter. The more he moved, the more you grew aroused—making you a moaning mess while he fucked the shit out of you.

You clung to him with each stroke, making the older male grunt. Your tits bounced and clashed against each other as the two of you moved, hypnotizing Logan. He leaned down and plopped one of them into his mouth, sucking on your nipples like it was a peppermint. You moaned out, hands clawing at the back of the seat right next to you—pleasure too intense for you.

He was fucking you so good, splitting your pussy open with each movement; orgasm rising inside of you. “Please! Logan, I'm gonna cum! Wait—slow down—fuck!” He ignored your pleas, his pace increasing by the second. Who knew that this old man could have that much stamina?

Continuing to make a mess out of your pussy, he continued to rub against your g-spot—making your orgasm course through you. You clung to him and clenched around him sporadically, creaming all over him. He growled, feeling his own orgasm creeping up on him—but you pulled out, causing him to groan.

“Sit. Wanna ride you.”

His hands clung to your waist, helping you bounce on his dick—filling you up completely. You gripped his shoulder for support, as the car rocked with your movements. The sound of your pussy and the clapping of your ass against him, made him feral and he couldn’t help but to grip your ass—hard, pushing you further down on him.

“Fuck, princess. Where do you want it?”

“Inside! Deep inside of me.” You didn’t care what would come afterwards. You just didn’t want him to stop fucking you. Logan pressed another kiss to your lips, rough hands smacking your ass as you moved wildly—walls getting ready to milk him dry. And with a few more hard bounces, he spurted deep inside of you, inner walls being painted a nice shade of white.

Rocking your hips against him, another orgasm made your body shake; cheeks jiggling against him as you came—moaning his name repeatedly.

The two of you stayed like that, his cock softening inside of you, while he continued to bottom out—before he pulled out, tip hitting your ass. You kissed him once more, content with how the night ended; finally with the man you deserved to be with.

“I love you….promise to not push me away?”

He smiled, the first time you saw it on his face, and nodded.

“I love you too.”

[rafescvntyclubgf]

𝓻𝓪𝓯𝓮𝔂𝓼𝓬𝓾𝓻𝓽𝓪𝓲𝓷𝓫𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓼

𝙽𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚢 𝙻𝚒𝚜𝚝 | 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐦𝐚𝐬 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬

𝔻𝕒𝕪 𝕊𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕖𝕟: 𝕂𝕖𝕖𝕡 𝕄𝕪 ℍ𝕒𝕥 𝕆𝕟

𝙲𝚘𝚠𝚋𝚘𝚢!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝙱𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

warnings: cowboy!rafe, mutual pining, kissing, teasing, swearing, older!rafe, drinking, unprotected p in v, car sex, semi-public sex, soft!rafe, grumpy!rafe x sunshine!reader, gets in a fight with jj, teasing, mentions of blood, wet and messy, rafe is huge

📖 This is based on an ask by littlelamy for Cowboy!Rafe. Thank you for your ask, bb! After a messy breakup with a bartender at a rival bar, Cowboy!Rafe needs to find a new place to grab a beer. Turns out you were the sunshine he needed all along. This is also loosely based on my favorite TikTok edit LINK ♥️

Masterlist

Reader’s POV:

Copperhead Road looks beautiful tonight… Well, it's as beautiful as any dive bar can look. It has its charm—dressed up for the holidays with string light and shimmery garland. The scratch of classic country Christmas songs plays over the speakers, marrying with the regulars as they sip on their Coors Banquets and whiskey neats.

It wasn’t much, but it was yours. Most days, you didn’t mind working doubles, especially around the holidays when money was tight. It paid the bills, and the regulars were sweet enough.

“Sweet pea,” Bonnie calls, stepping behind the bar with a smile. She’s an old-time bartender, a “lifer” at Copperhead— ‘too old for this shit’ or so she would say through a cigarette-rasped laugh. “Thank you for stayin’ late for me tonight.”

You give her a nod and a smile, tipping your head on her shoulder as she pulls you in for a hug. “Of course. How was the concert?” You ask.

She smiles brightly, digging her flip phone out of her pocket to proudly show pictures of her granddaughter singing at the Christmas service.

You look around the bar; just a few people hanging out. A younger crowd’s gathered in the corner, nursing some mixed drinks, waiting for the party to start.

“You stayin’ tonight?” She asks as she ties an apron around her waist

”Of course, Mrs. Bonnie… It’s Tuesday night,” you say through a smile as you take off your jean jacket, showing off your rest sparkly tank top. The older women ohs and aws, and you smile and giggle, already knowing that that’s the reaction you were gonna get. Your friend Max holds the door open to the person behind him, and a man grabs it, bringing the cold December wind with him.

He walks in slowly, eyes locked on the rack of liquor lining the wall— his energy letting you know the last thing he was here to do was dance. He tosses his gaze to the ground, walking the rest of the way up to a bar stool, his Carhartt Jacket zipper up and his hat blocking his eyes.

He pulls off his hat as he approaches a chair, revealing his caramel-colored hair, brushed back slightly, just a little fringe hanging down on his forehead. He’s handsome in that rugged cowboy way—in that way that would make any woman in the place swoon.

“He’s cute,” Bonnie coos as she steps behind you, whispering over your shoulder with a grin.

“He looks grumpy,” you chuckle as you loft the rag into the sani bucket, flicking the water off your hands.

“Maybe he just needs a beer and the company of a beautiful young lady,” she teases as she shakes her shoulders and smiles, making your cheeks warm up at the challenge.

“I don’t know… He looks like he doesn’t even want to be here,” you mumble as you grab a bar napkin and a pen.

“He just needs a little holiday cheer, Sweet Pea.”

You draw a deep sigh as you make your way down the line to him, feeling your excitement rise as you get closer. “Evenin’. Can I get you a beer?”

“… Obviously,” he mumbles as he fiddles with his rough hands.

You chuckle and tilt your head slightly, hoping he’ll come to the conclusion that he was an asshole on his own, but he might need a little help. “Well, aren’t you charming?”

His eyes lift at the sound of your voice, like he’s hearing it for the first time. That got his attention. His baby blue eyes lock on yours, sharp features softening fast.

His brows furrow as he looks back at you like he’s trying to figure something out. “Jesus, m’sorry,” he mutters, rubbing his big hand against the back of his neck. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. That wasn't polite…”

“No harm done,” you assure.

He hangs his hat on the hook and unzips his jacket. Your lashes flutter as he pulls it off his shoulders, showing off his white t-shirt underneath. You can see how fit he is under his shirt: his big biceps straining the fabric, leaving nothing to the imagination.

”You okay?” He chuckles. Your eyes tear away from his body, flickering to his as heat pools in your cheeks.

“Uh-Umm… Yeah. Of course. Bud Light?” You ask nervously, guessing his drink of choice.

“Bud heavy,” he sighs, it’s been a long day. And a shot of BV if you have it.” You pop open a bottle of beer resting it in front of him before draining a double-shot of Black Velvet whiskey in a glass.

He reaches into his pocket, grabbing his wallet, but you wave him off. “On the house,” you smile as you set the bottle back. “Are you okay?” You turn the question back to him as you pull out a different spirit for yourself.

He lets out a dry, tired laugh, hanging his head again just like he did when he came in. “Uhh… No. Not really,” he grabs the shot glass, tossing it back. “I broke up with my girlfriend a few days ago.”

“Oh,” you say gently as you search for his eyes. “That’s always rough. M’sorry to hear that…”

“Rafe,” he fills in the blank as you hold out the word, waiting for his name. He extends his hand, and you wipe yours on your skirt, resting yours in his. “Rafe Cameron.”

You introduce yourself as well. The contact between you lasts a little longer than normal, making your heart flutter. “It's nice to meet you.”

“Well, it’s nice to meet you too, sweetheart.”

His pretty blue eyes follow you as you step around the bar, walking toward him. The corners of his lips curl into a smile as you get closer, pulling up a seat next to him. He turns toward you, making the gesture a little more intimate. “Sorry about before,” he mumbles again as he goes for his beer.

“Seriously, don’t worry about it,” you smile. “I’m used to crabby cowboys,” you tease.

“Well, I prefer brooding, but I deserve that,” he laughs against the lip of his bottle before taking a sip. “She’s a bartender too, down at Little Angie’s. Been going there for years. And honestly, it was my bar first, but I guess I can’t go there now,” he huffs, taking a long sip of beer before wiping his hand across his lips. “She cheated on me.”

“On you?” You ask as you cock an eyebrow, lifting your voice in disbelief, genuinely surprised but stroking his ego nonetheless; the man obviously needs it.

“What do you mean ‘on me’?” He drawls, half-hiding his smile with his hands before taking another swig, fishing for the compliment he knew you were feeding him.

“You’re very handsome, Rafe Cameron,” you smile. “Gotta fix that personality of yours, though,” you taunt as you poke him in his muscular chest, making him scowl jokingly.

“I’m a ray of fuckin’ sunshine, princess. The hell do you mean?” He asks, his voice sweet and raspy.

“She sounds like an idiot. I’m sorry,” you say earnestly, resting your hand on his blue jeans, giving him a sweet squeeze before pulling away. You watch a blush creep across his cheeks in the light of the neon moon.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” he hums as he looks back at you. You bite back a dizzy smile as you glance at him.

“Well, lucky for you, Copperhead has better beer and better people,” you smile sweetly as you lean in a little closer.

“Mmm… Mhmm?” He chuckles, trying to fight back his wide smile. “Suppose you are one of those people, huh?” He asks.

“She is,” Bonnie adds as she sets down two more drinks, clearly delighted for you over this turn of events. “N’dosen’t she look stunning tonight?” She raises a question as she grabs two new bottles off the rail.

“Gorgeous,” Rafe croons. “Thank you.” He gestures toward the bottle before shifting in his seat, moving even closer than before. “Hear that? Said ‘thank you’ and everything.”

“Like gentleman,” you coo.

“That’s right,” he grins.

The music around you starts to turn up, you look over your shoulder, so lost in your conversation with Rafe that you didn’t notice the large crowd that had filled the space. You glance back toward the booths—your friends waving wildly as they catch your attention, eyes widening in approval of Rafe as well, making heat bloom in your cheeks

“Umm… I’m not sure if you’re free tomorrow, but if you are, I’m doin’ a breakfast with my friends at my place. You’re welcome to stop by.”

“Yeah?” He asks as he quirks an eyebrow. “You sure?”

“‘Course. Holidays suck alone.”

He bites his lip, contemplating your offer, the corners of his eyes creasing with the smile he’s holding back. “Might take you up on that, sweetheart.”

“Perfect,” you whisper. “What are you doing right now, cowboy?”

He throws his gaze away, laughing lightly at the title before returning his eyes to yours. “Nothin’. What do you have in mind?”

“Line dancin’ starts at eight…”

His face twists slightly, body turning away from you, toward the bar as to say ‘no.’ “Dancin’ is not really my thing,” he chuckles, nodding at Bonnie to come back down the line for another drink.

“Suit yourself,” you sing as you step off the barstool, leaning in slightly. “Enjoy your beer, handsome.”

The music shifts to something upbeat as you make your way toward your friends. The familiar rhythm takes over, and you go from one high with Rafe to the next. You shift your hips, moving your body to the beat.

One of the regulars steps in, Pope, a handsome rancher from down the way. He pulls you into his arms, whirling you around as he usually does.

You feel the heat of Rafe’s gaze from the bar. You glance over your shoulder for a moment—his eyes on yours, watching you with an unreadable expression. Before you can think about it much more, Pope twirls you under his finger, stealing your attention.

You feel a hand rest on your lower back, guiding you away, and you follow, slipping into Rafe's strong arms. He pulls you in close, arms wrapping around your body, lips curving into a grin.

“You dance?” You smile sweetly.

”Absolutely not,” he mumbles, his hold on you letting you know there was no way he would let you dance with anyone else tonight.

The music slows to something smoother. Rafe pulls you in close, the warmth of his big body sending shivers down your spine. You breathe in his scent—enveloped in his rich cologne, warm vanilla, and a hint of tobacco.

He matches your movements, shifting effortlessly with you as his rough hands roam your curves. “You’re pretty good at this,” you smile as you rest your hands on his chest, feeling his heart bang underneath.

“Don’t sound so surprised,” he mutters through a smile.

The space between you gets closer and closer; the heat of Rafe’s breath on your hot skin makes your heart race. And just like before, the two of you were lost in your own world, yanked out by a large hand on Rafe’s shoulder.

“You fuckin’ kidding me?”

You look around Rafe’s as JJ’s wild blue eyes dart between the two of you, narrowing on his fast.

“The fuck is this?” JJ asks as he pulls Rafe off you, shoving him back.

“Back off, JJ,” you hiss as you step between the two of them.

“Is he botherin’ you?” JJ asks, looking around your shoulder, focusing more on the new man trying to take you away and less on the fact that you wanted him to go.

“No, JJ. You are. Just fuckin’ leave.”

JJ dismisses you again, stepping around you to get in Rafe’s face. “You think you can just walk in here and take what’s mine?” JJ spits and swings his fist, nailing Rafe in the cheek. Rafe returns a blow, landing square on JJ’s jaw fast, sending him stumbling back with his face clutched in his hands.

You grab Rafe as the bouncer grabs JJ, pulling the two men apart as they shout over the music. “That’s enough, JJ,” you shout, JJ’s darkened eyes never leaving him—Rafe, glaring right back at JJ with a smirk on his face. “Not fuckin’ leavin’, cupcake.”

“You're done,” the bouncer warns as he tightens his grip on your ex, dragging him back.

“Let go of me, Shoupe,” JJ grunts as he fights against him.

“Come on, baby,” you whisper, the name pulling Rafe’s focus back to you in a second. He smiles down at you, his cheek gashed and bloodied as he wraps his big arm around your shoulders, following you to the office.

Rafe crashes down on the chair, kicking out his boots, shaking his hand, eyeing his swollen knuckles with a groan. “Let me see,” you whisper as you move closer, setting the first-aid kit on the desk before sitting on his lap.

You hook your finger under his chin to get a better look as Rafe wets his lip and smiles, his twinkling eyes finding yours. ”It’s nothin’,” he hums, but you clean it anyway, the tough guy only letting a hiss slip past his lips as the alcohol soaks his skin.

“You’re not the only one with an asshole ex,” you whisper as you lean in a little closer, Rafe’s arms finding their way around your waist again.

“Guess we got that in common, princess,” he breathes as his eyes fall down your body in his arms.

You cup his cheek in your soft hand, and he shuts his eyes, melting into your touch. Before you know it, his lips are on yours, deep and deliberate, slow and sensual, sending sparks straight through you as his tongue rolls with yours.

He groans into your mouth, and you moan into him, savoring the taste of his sweet lips. His big hand inches up your body, but you grab his wrist, guiding his hand to your tit. “Fuck, baby,” he moans as he squeezes. Your hand rests against his chest as your tongues reel, your nails scratching down. “Lower,” he rasps and smiles against your lips, your slight hand pushing against his stiff dick in his Levi’s, making your pussy ache.

“Wanna get out of here?” You whisper as you draw a breath, lips quickly finding him again. Rafe smiles against your mouth, taking your bottom lip between his as he sucks off slowly.

“Your place or mine?” He asks through a smile.

The two of you not so much as get to his truck before he’s on you again, kissing you passionately, your fingers finding the handle of the back seat, pulling him inside with a smile. And for the third time tonight, the rest of the world fades away. The dark parking lot is crammed with cars—your ex presumably close, but none of it matters but Rafe.

He pulls you on to straddle his lap, his big hands cupping your face as he strokes your soft skin; Rafe’s beautiful blue eyes stare back into yours as you breathe deeply together.

"Baby,” he stops you as you lean in for more, his rough thumb tracing your plump bottom lip. “Is this alright?” He asks sweetly as his eyes fall to your lips, catching the slight space between you, staring at your lips hungrily, desperate for more, but the well-mannered man in him forces him to ask.

“You really are a gentleman, aren’t you?” You tease as he takes off his hat, resting it on your head. You run your fingers through his soft hair as he tips his head back, melting into your touch.

“You can keep my hat on, princess,” he hums as he pulls you closer, his warm lips pressing against your neck, moving higher. “You hear me, sweetheart?” He asks needily as your hands trace down his broad chest, fingers falling to his belt.

“Think I owe you for takin’ care of my ex.” You bite your lip as you tug the leather belt through the loops.

“I don’t think so, baby doll,” he hums as he rubs his thumb across your shoulder, lowering one strap and the other. “I was just payin’ you back for the beer,” he whispers through a playful smirk. You reach up, pulling your shirt and bra down around your waist, making Rafe release a deep groan.

He leans in, pressing his lips against yours— hungry and possessive. Your tongue tangles with his, separating briefly to tear him out of his thin white shirt as his hands cups your chest, thumbs brushing across your nipples.

You wrap your hands around his neck, grinding into the rock-hard bulge in his jeans. He quickly reaches down, tugging them down his thighs. “Keep going,” you whisper and chuckle lustfully against your lips, pulling his boxers down as well.

Rafe slides down in the seat, slightly guiding your arousal-pooled panties right on top of his dick, taking his lip between his teeth, rocking your body onto him as his mouth devours yours.

His hands wrap around your back, slipping under your skirt to grip and knead your ass, pulling moan after moan from your lips. His stiff cock rubs against your clit, making you toss your head back at the delicious friction between your thighs.

Rafe buries himself in your neck, his warm breath hot against your skin as he breathes you in. “Fuck, I need you,” he mumbles against your neck before sinking his teeth into you growing impatient.

“I’m so wet for you, Rafe,” you sigh as you taunt him further, squealing as he slaps your ass roughly with a laugh.

“I know, baby,” he chides. “Goddamn, I fuckin know. Just give it to me—let me have it. Yeah?” Your hips continue to rut shamelessly against his pulsing cock, making him take what he needs himself.

Rafe reaches under your skirt, ripping one side of your panties and then the next, tossing the soaked lace to the floor with a sigh of relief as he grips his heavy cock with one hand, lifting your body right where he wants you with the other arm making you gasp.

Rafe’s lidded eyes connect with yours, lips falling open with his as he pushes inside you entirely. Your grip his shoulders, hands trembling as a deep groan thunders in his chest, feeling your warm, wet cunt wrap around him tight.

“All that teasin’ for what?” He pants with a smile as he leans into your lips, capturing your mouth in a tender kiss.

“Told you I was wet,” you whisper, and he chuckles as his work-worn fingers find your clit, making you gasp.

“Told you I knew,” he drawls as his soft lips brush against yours. “You gonna let me cum in this pretty pussy, sweetheart. Make you even wetter?” He asks as he grabs your hips again, guiding you to roll your body just like you were before.

“Sh-Shit,” you shutter shakily, never feeling something quite this deep. “Mhmm, daddy… You gonna take me home?” You ask as you feel his big cock fill you to the brim.

“Callin’ me daddy? Shit… You’re gonna get a lot more than that, princess,” he smiles as he lifts your hips, fucking up into your soaked hole. “You’re not gettin’ rid of me.” You throw your head back; his hat tumbles off, skin slapping against the skin as the windows of his truck start to fog up.

Your lips crash against his, kissing him with deeply, feeling yourself about to lose control. “Fuck, Rafe… M’close,” you whimper against his lips.

“Yeah?”

”Yeah,” you pant. Rafe grabs your body, using his hold and his muscle to bounce you on his cock, again and again, pounding your pussy with his thick dick. Your thighs tremble uncontrollably, warmth tightening around him. “Cum for me, pretty girl,” he groans. “Make a mess for me.”

Your pussy gushes and flutters around his big cock wetting his lap and his fingers.

“Atta, baby… Shittt,” he mumbles, hot against your skin. “Good fuckin’ girl,” he praises between rough thrusts, his orgasm coming fast and hard as he adds to the wet mess. The slick sounds of sex fill the cab— Rafe rocking to a stop between gentle kisses. He buries himself in your neck, pulling you into his heaving chest.

Rafe kisses your forehead—then your nose and your lips. “Goddamn,” he mumbles. “Let’s get you home, huh? Get you cleaned up.”

“Yeah, cowboy?” You ask breathily. Rafe kisses you again, lingering while your breathing slows together.

“Told you you’re not gettin’ rid of me, princess?”

[buckyalpine]

Bucky and Alpine are my favorite duo !! He’d be such a cute cat dad . And I just imagine Alpine not being fond of company, just like her grumpy dad . And if he’s ever brought over any girl he’d always hiss and try to wack them . But when you’re in his home for the first time , Bucky is worried it’s gonna happen again . But Alpine instantly curls in your legs and purrs for your to pet her. When you sit on the couch , she follows you and nudges your jaw or hand to give her scratches and ends up falling asleep on your lap . Bucky is bewildered this is happening and his heart warms that his baby likes you . Overtime you and Alpine are inseparable and Bucky’s favorite thing is to come back home to you and Alpine curled up on the couch , giving the both of you head kisses (🐚)

I LOVE THISS. Alpine takes after her daddy 100%. Ever since he adopted her and tucked into into his leather jacket, the two have been joined at the hip. They are inseparable. It's always just been the two of them. Just her and her favorite hooman, cuddling, napping, judging anything with a pulse.

It's perfect.

Until he starts to date. Alpine hates it. The way these girls look at her daddy, swooning and giggling, always trying to take away her favourite spot; her daddy's lap. That place is reserved for her and her only. No one else gets to nuzzle into his neck or curl up on his chest. Taking up her spot on his bed is also a huge no-no. She hated how they'd squeal or screech trying to pet her or worse, pick her up for a cuddle. Disgusting. There had already been a few close calls but Alpine made sure it never went a step further. A swing of her little paw to the head is enough to send most away instantly.

Who were these strangers and why did they keep disturbing her. She hated people.

Except her daddy.

"Um-"

"Bucky if you're not sure about this, we can wait-

"No!" Bucky shakes his head, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck while you waited for him to open the door to his apartment. How was he supposed to tell you that the reason he was worried about bringing you home was because his life was ruled by his cat. That the little fluffy ball of fur controlled who went in and out of the house; anyone that wasn't him, wasn't welcome. The first dates he brought over didn't matter all too much. Bucky didn't see much of a future with them anyway so he didn't try to get his furbaby to warm up to them with a second try.

You were different.

He'd liked girls before but this time he was certain it was love. The last thing he wanted was for his 3 lb, 1ft fluffy demon to chase you away too.

"I don't want to wait, it's not that I'm not ready" Bucky nervously chewed his lip, "I guess I'm just nervous" He played it off, not wanting to worry you as he fished his keys out of his pocket.

"We can take all the time you need, Sergeant" You gave his hand a gentle squeeze with a reassuring smile, "M'not going anywhere"

Love. He definitely loved you. How he hoped his cat would be in a good mood.

-

Alpine narrowed her eyes at the door hearing more than one voice, ready to pounce on whoever walked through. The furs on her neck stood up as Bucky walked in, accompanied by his date though this was different. Her daddy didn't seem as sure of himself as he usually did. He was stumbling over his words. She was sure she could feel his body heat radiating off him from feet away. He had shy smile plastered on his face the entire time as he brought her into the apartment. In Alpines opinion, he looked like an idiot, nearly tripping over one of her mice and blushing like a school boy.

This girl wasn't like the others.

Her daddy really liked this one.

A lot.

-

As soon as you sat down, Alpine decided to introduce herself, hopping into your lap and nuding her head into your hand. You giggled, giving her a gentle scratch before setting your hand down to give her some space but she didn't seem interested in you stopping. She purred at the soft coo's you made, nuzzling her head further for more pets.

"Merp" Alpine let out a content chitter while you were none the wiser.

"She's so friendly" You whispered, not wanting to disturb Bucky's little best friend while he blinked in confusion, stunned seeing his tiny ball of havoc curled into your lap, making biscuits with her paws, a content purr rumbling from her chest.

"Aren't you a sweet angel" You whispered, continuing to pet her silky fur as she slept soundly, not realizing Bucky's jaw on the floor. "What's her name?"

"This little shit"

Your face twisted in confusion while Bucky still didn't answer your question, slowly and silently moving himself until he was at eye-level with his master.

"Hey" He whisper hissed, cocking an eyebrow when she reluctantly opened one eye, "Alp, you little shit"

"Merp" Alpine gave Bucky's cheek a light swat of her paw before cuddling up further into your lap leaving you in stitches.

"I see she owns you" You giggled while Bucky shook his head, butterflies already erupting in his tummy. He already knew you were special but if Alpine liked you, that was something else. Seeing his baby fall in love with you the way he did sealed it all. It became something Bucky never got tired of seeing; his precious little angel doting and cuddling up with the girl of his dreams. Whenever you were around, Alpine was instantly in your lap or in your arms, the two of you inseparable.

-

"Doll? Alpline?" Bucky called as he dropped his bag at the front door, toeing his boots off and stretching before making his way to the living room.

"My girls" he smiled, finding you both curled up with your favourite show on, Alpine sleeping on top of the soft blanket you were wrapped in, "How are you babygirl" Bucky leaned down to kiss the top of your head before kneeling down so he could give his fur baby one as well, "And you, princess"

"We missed you" You gave Bucky grabby hands, sighing happily as he wrapped you up in his arms, holding you extra tight before setting you back down.

"Not as much as me. I'll shower and we'll get some dinner" Bucky tucked you back in your blanket before scooping up Alpine in his arms for an extra cuddle, "Daddy missed you princess, shhh" Bucky shushed her discontent meowing as she was taken away from you. Her tail swished as he plopped her onto the bed and quickly showered, rustling from his bag before pulling out a little bag and a tiny box.

"Ready to surprise mommy?" Bucky whispered, fastening a red collar onto his cat and tying a ring that would sit under her chin with a little handwritten note. He picked up Alpine and set her on her way back to you before nervously wiping his hands against his jeans, taking a deep breath.

"What do you have there baby" Bucky could hear your voice from the living room, followed by a gasp. He took one final breath before making his way over.

He couldn't wait to marry you.

[writeroutoftime]

our family

pairing: tyler owens x fem!reader (requested by: @piratejakesgf)

summary: it's the first morning tyler is going back to storm chasing after the birth of your daughter and he finds he needs some reassurances in the nursey.

warnings: none (though not proofread lol)

words: 0.7k

a/n: oh my goodness, thank you for this request!! it was so sweet and fun to write! imagining this man as a father truly made me swoon! please enjoy!! 💕

oOoOo

The sun slowly began peaking over the skyline - a gentle nudge to those still asleep that morning was soon arriving. Not included in that group was Tyler Owens. Instead, he stood in the baby pink nursey, staring down in the crib at his seven-month-old daughter. His finger stroked over her soft cheek, memorizing every breath she took.

Tyler thought the moment he met and fell for you that his life was changed forever. But it changed all over ago seven months ago when he held his daughter for the first time. It was then that he knew nothing in his life was more important than being there for his two girls.

He could feel the anxiety building in his body the longer he stood and simply watched. Tyler knew that eventually he was going to have to tear himself away from her, from you, and get back out to chasing. And dep down, he truly was excited. To be back with his team, doing what he loved. But it all felt so much more complicated now.

He went through a similar spiral once 'I love you's' were shared between each other. It was so easy to go out in the middle of a damn tornado when there was no one waiting for him. And now there were two people who would be waiting to for him to make it home safely.

So wrapped up in his thoughts, Tyler didn't hear you shuffle into the nursey. It was only when you wrapped your arms around his frame and pressed your cheek against his sturdy back that he found himself relaxing the tiniest bit.

"Morning, darling." he whispered, letting go of the crib railings in favor of grasping your hands with his.

Your response of incoherent mumbles brought a much-needed smile to his face. Carefully, he untangled your limbs and turned you until your sleepy face met his green eyes. He titled his head forward so his forehead could rest against yours, soaking in this quiet moment.

"How you feeling today, cowboy?" you whispered, not wanting to shatter the bubble that encompassed you both.

Tyler sighed and stepped back so he could pull you into his chest. "I, I don't know if I'm being honest." he confessed. "Don't get me wrong, I'm excited to be back out with the team again, but..."

"But?" you prompted, offering Tyler a space to just think and talk with zero judgments.

"But, I also don't want to leave the two of you. I mean what if something happens here while I'm gone? O-or what if something happens to me while I'm out there?"

You took a moment to carefully craft your response. "I can't say that I won't be worried while you're out there. But that's nothing new. I know you're going to do everything in your power to come home to me - to us." you said, your voice firm.

"Of course I will." Tyler vowed

"Well, we'll be waiting for you when you come home. And that'll just mean the reunion is that much sweeter." you told him with a sly smile.

Greedily, you pushed forward until your lips met Tyler's chapped ones. He responded immediately and held you impossibly tighter. The kiss was long and full of passion, both of you expressing everything that couldn't be said. Love, passion, and promises of more early morning kisses to come.

You eventually pull away and swayed slightly in the nursey as Tyler still held you tightly. Though he felt more relaxed, you could tell there was something he was holding back. As gently as you could, you grasped his chin in your fingers and forced him to look at you.

"And, when you come back home, if it still doesn't feel right - we'll figure it out. We're always here for you, whatever it is you're going to do."

Tyler nodded, teeth caught on his lips as he tried to hold back his tears. "What would I do without you both?" he asked with a small laugh. And when he got into his truck and turned back to see you and your daughter waving goodbye to him, he knew he'd make it back to you whatever mother nature threw his way.

[borathae]

↳ Index [Snippet #54 - Too Jealous]

“When you are way too jealous because of another woman.”

Genre: married life!AU, slight Angst, Smut

Warnings: jealousy, husband stealing women trying to get with Kook, while he is the most loyal puppy husband ever, insecurities, a fight because of her jealousy, but they make up <3, please he is so cute i couldn't be mad at him, subbiest!Jungkook, Domme!Reader, he wears bondage gear, and used eyeliner to write her name on his body, chastity cage, marking through hickeys & biting, subby boy tears, omfg he is such a cutie crybaby <3, nipple play & sucking, wearing of a buttplug, have i mentioned that he cries a lot? <3, very passionate sex in cowgirl position, where he is tied to the bed and whines and cries and is subbyyyy, he breaks the bed but stays put cause he is a good boy, choking, dirty talk, possessive talk, creampie, use of a vibrator, one quick face sitting for her please, he loves eating her out <3, multiple orgasms (m.receiving), forced orgasm through overstimulation with the vibrator, where she makes him cum so hard that he squirts <3, gentle aftercare, they're deeply in love and this is actually softer than the warnings may make it seem, bruh i need to recover from this

Wordcount: 7.8k

a/n: listen. it would be unrealistic to create ogc!koo and not have women want him left and right. of course our queen OC feels threatened sometimes (she doesn't have to, he is her loyal puppy fr) and i NEEDED to write this like i fucking NEEDED this on my blog i just *sigh* i love subby crybaby!koo so much :( ALSO! i decided to include anonie's dream from some time ago heheh 🧡

Jungkook is without a doubt the most attractive, most handsome, sexiest and hottest man ever. This is not an exaggeration but the truth. He is drop-dead, insanely gorgeous. He has the perfect body and knows what clothes to wear to really show it off. His tattoos are so well done and perfectly fit his body. His face is quite frankly to die for, his hair is always perfect and to make it even worse, he always smells so good. Because he is Jungkook, it also means that the perfection doesn’t stop at his looks. He is perfect inside as well. His heart is kind and gentle, he cares, he is funny, he is witty and he actually respects women. He is also way too talented and overall a good person. And he never ever brags about being basically perfect (which he is) because he is humble above all.

In short, Jeon Jungkook is the most attractive, perfect man ever. And because he is, it means that you, as his wife, have way too much competition. Not that Jungkook actually sees any of this competition because his love-drunk puppy eyes have solely been fixed on you for years and they plan on staying this way. Yes, he is bloody loyal too. What a perfect fucking man he is. He is loyal and therefore blind to the competition, but you are aware of the competition. You can distinguish between a naturally friendly woman and a woman who is only that way because she wants to get with him. And Jungkook gets a lot of these women as his customers. You can’t blame them for swooning over him – whenever he tattoos you, you can’t stop staring either – but there are the kinds of women who still want to try to seduce him even after finding out that he is married. And because Jungkook doesn’t actually care for their attention, he is also not really aware that they keep coming back for more tattoos just so they could be touched by him or stare at him. Most of these women finally give up when they actually see you, but there is this one specific woman who seems hellbent on stealing Jungkook from you and she is currently at his studio again.

“___?” 

You turn your head to the left at the sound of your employee’s voice.

“Yes, Katy?” 

“Are you alright? You’ve been staring at Jungkook’s studio for fifteen minutes now.”

“I have?”

Katy nods her head, “did you guys have a fight?”

“No, but she is back.”

“Ooooh”, Katy realises, “Ariana?”

“Yeah…her”, you grumble, tensing your jaw.

“Again? Didn’t he literally talk about your wedding last time?”

“He did.”

“And didn’t he say that she had a boyfriend too?”

“He did.” You squint your eyes. “Stupid bitch, I bet she is currently looking at his tits and arms. God.” You stomp your foot like a stubborn child. “Why does he have to have such massive tits and arms?” you whine to which Katy laughs.

“You’re literally so jealous, it’s insane.”

“Yeah I am. He is so gorgeous and some women just don’t get that he is mine.” 

Katy pats your shoulder in soothing. 

“There, there. I bet he is not even giving her a first thought or a second or a third.”

“I hope he isn’t. Otherwise, divorce.”

Katy belts a laugh.

“You’re being so dramatic. Jungkook would already start crying if he so much as thought about the hypothetical of cheating on you.”

“I guess.” You send the studio one last glare then sadly have to leave your brooding position to tend to some customer with Katy. 

A little over an hour passes like this, then the restaurant calms down again and you glare. 

Katy, who notices, pats your shoulder again.

“Still not over it?”

“She hasn’t left yet.”

“Maybe it’s a bigger tattoo?”

“She never gets big tattoos because it means that she can come back as often as possible.”

“Wow okay, very scheming indeed.”

“Yes, very. I bet she is one of those women who get off on stealing taken men. You know what? I’m going over there.”

“For what reason?”

“I don’t know. Bringing coffee”, you say and grab one of the coffee jugs and two mugs. “I’ll be back soon.”

“Good luck, queen”, Katy calls after you, smiling fondly. It’s kind of cute how jealous you can be when there is truly nothing to worry about.

You see them from outside. They are in the front of the shop, hugging. Jungkook doesn’t touch her, keeping at least five inches of distance between his arms and her body while she is slung around him with her face in his neck as if she wanted to literally crawl into him. Judging by his widened eyes, he was not expecting this hug.

It you didn’t carry a jug full of hot coffee, you would have literally kicked the door in.

But instead you open it with a happy “yuhu” on your lips, following it up with a “I bring coffee, my darling.” 

“Oh, sweetie”, Jungkook says, stepping back to escape the hug.

The wannabe home wrecker lets go of Your husband and takes a step back, studying you from head to toe judgingly. You place the coffee pot on the counter and hug Jungkook. He hugs you back instantly, rubbing the small of your back and kissing the side of your neck gently.

“Hey.”

“Hey there, my hubby”, you say and place multiple kisses on his neck and jawline. Then you tangle your fingers in his hair and pull his face down into a deep, passionate kiss. The kind of kiss which lasts way too long and is way too intimate. You end the entire show with a squeeze of his butt and a goofy grin.

“I missed you today, my hubby bubby sweetie. I kept thinking about the amazing head you gave me this morning and how you kept telling me that you’ll always be mine.”

Jungkook is gawking at you with his mouth wide open. What you said wasn’t a lie because he actually did do that, but you are normally not exposing stuff like this to the public. Or kissing him like this as a matter of fact.

You cuddle into him, hugging his arm and shifting your eyes to the glaring woman in front of you.

“Oh sorry. I didn’t even see you there. Who are you?” You look at Jungkook. “Shoot, did I just expose us to one of your customers, darling? I’m sorry.”

“It’s uh…” Jungkook’s cheeks are bright red. “Forgive me Miss Grand, this is my wife- eek.” He squeaks and tenses up when you grab his butt unapologetically. “Sorry uhm, thanks for uhm coming for the tattoo today. Uhm, don’t forget to do proper aftercare on it and to use the cream I recommended you.”

The home wrecker is flabbergasted for a moment, but then catches herself quickly. She actually tries to shoot her shot in front of you. She steps closer with the plan of hugging him again. 

You are in front of him instantly, staring her down like a lioness one second away from ripping apart her prey.

“You think I’m being funny?” You hiss. “I’ve been friendly with you up until now. Understood?”

Jungkook stays quiet for his own sake, but holds your hand and gawks at you with widened eyes. This is the first time he sees you like this. 

The home wrecker finally gets the message and scrunches her nose.

“I’ll see you soon again, Jungkookie”, she coos and leaves with a flick of her hair. 

The door slams closed. You stay glaring for a few more seconds then turn around. Jungkook blinks his eyes at you in confusion.

“You can’t stop thinking about the head I gave you this morning? Really?” he asks, cocking his brow up in question.

“Whatever. I was trying to say the most possessive thing ever”, you grumble, making your way to the coffee pot.

“Possessive?” Jungkook follows you with his eyes. He suddenly gasps. “Wait! Are you jealous?”

“What? No? I was trying to send a message.”

“Send a message about what?”

“That you’re married.”

“I think she knows. I talk about you constantly.”

You can’t help but smile. He is actually so sweet.

“I don’t think she cared. Now she actually knows that I exist and that I’ll fight. She’ll think twice about hitting on you again.”

“Aw baby, you are jealous.”

“Yes I am. You don’t get it. You’re so perfect and handsome and you sometimes don’t see how other women look at you, but I do. I see all of it”, you hiss at him, sending him such a deathly glare that Jungkook is actually taken aback for a moment.

“No baby, don’t even worry about them. I don’t care about how they look at me, I just wanna look at you”, he says, touching your hips. He flutters his lashes at you, smiling extremely cutely. 

“Then refuse service to Miss Grand.”

“What?”

“You heard me. She is trying to steal you from me.”

Jungkook scoffs, “let her try, I don’t care about her.”

“No, you don’t get it, I-”

A customer interrupts you and him. 

“Oh? Sorry for the disturbance, I didn’t know that you had another customer”, he says, looking sorry.

Jungkook studies your face with guilty eyes for one more second then sadly has to look away. He forces a customer service smile to his face.

“Don’t worry Duke, you’re on time. That’s my wonderful wife ___, she is running the restaurant over there and brought us coffee for our session”, he says, placing his arms over your shoulder to kiss your temple. But you only let him do so halfway then shake yourself free.

“Sorry, works calling again. Hungry people don’t like to wait”, you say. “Good luck with the tattoo.”

You leave the studio and with it a conversation which was definitely not over yet. Jungkook looks after you with sad, guilty eyes until you disappear in the restaurant.

Jungkook leaves the studio at seven like he always does. One more hour and he will drive home with you. He crosses the street and enters the restaurant like he always does. He promised you to stay with you during closing hour to keep you safe from creeps who don’t want to leave. And Jungkook always keeps his promises to you. Especially his marriage promises. He looks for you with a nervously racing heart, but can only find Katy and Joe.

“Are you looking for ___?” Joe asks.

“Yeah, I’m picking her up to drive home together”, he answers him. 

“Damn sorry man, you missed her by about ten minutes.”

“She already went home?”

Joe nods his head.

“Did she say why?”

“Just that she was feeling a little tired tonight.”

Katy joins Joe’s side, staying way too close. You regularly give Jungkook updates about these two. They try to be sneaky about it, but you already figured out that they are secretly dating. Jungkook is always very excited when you give him updates about them during late night cuddles in bed. He feels so sad at the thought right now because he knows that he managed to hurt you today and now there won’t be any updates or cuddles.

“She’s gonna be okay, you know?” Katy says.

Jungkook nods his head, “I hope. I, uhm, Imma go now. Check up on her, you know?”

“Yes, do that.”

“Take care, you two.”

“You too.”

Jungkook drives home with a deep pit of guilt in his stomach. He doesn’t drive straight home, but takes a little detour to a florist to get a huge bouquet of flowers. 

He cradles it like a baby for the rest of the drive home. 

Thankfully, your bike is in the garage and your gear is stored in the closet. Jungkook makes sure that the garage door is closed and then hurries inside. 

Like every night, Bam greets him happily, but Jungkook can only give him attention half-heartedly. He needs to talk to you. 

“Babygirl, I’m home!” 

You don’t answer him. Jungkook discards his keys and swerves past a confused Bam. He checks the kitchen and the living room, both of which are empty. 

“Sweetie, your hubby is back!”

No answer.

He checks the bathroom and the bedroom, then his room. Lastly, he checks your room. 

Bingo.  

You are on your mattress with the television running. 

“There you are, I’ve been looking for you everywhere”, he says, hurrying to you. 

He falls to his knees and presents the flowers.

“I’m sorry for today”, he says, bowing his head. 

You glance at him, then the flowers. He got your favourites in your favourite colour and arranged in a heart. You sigh in defeat and turn off the television.

Jungkook lifts his head at the sound, meeting your eyes.

“I’m sorry. I’m stupid and dumb and a buffoon”, he says apologetically.

You scoff, stifling a smile. He notices it and closes in on you instantly. He tries to kiss your cheek, but you move back.

He sits back on his feet, pouting at you.

“I’m really sorry”, he says.

“I know, I guess you don’t have to be. It’s not like you’re actually entertaining her antics.”

He shakes his head vigorously.

“Never ever. I couldn’t care less about her, but if it makes you feel better, I’ll tell her to look for another tattoo artist.”

“No, it’s okay. I was unreasonable.”

“Well, do you want me to or are you just saying so?”

You hesitate but then shake your head, “it’s okay.” 

Jungkook exhales in defeat. He scoots closer, holding your hand.

“___ baby, I love you and I only want you.”

“I know, thank you for the reassurance and the, uhm, flowers. They’re so cute.”

“Right? I told the florist to make a heart as big as my love for you, but she ran out of flowers before she could match its size.”

He makes you smile. Jungkook hooks onto it, finally leaning in to smooch your cheek. You still pull away however.

“I’m sorry. I need to be alone right now. Is that okay for you?”

“I mean, I’ll definitely feel really guilty the entire time, but I guess if you really need it”, Jungkook says with insecurity in his voice.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, sweetie. I’ll make dinner in the meantime, yeah?”

“I brought stuff from the restaurant. I already ate, sorry.”

“Oh, uhm, okay.” Jungkook hesitates, pulling back in insecurity. “Do you still love me?” he asks with sad puppy eyes 

“I still love you, I promise.”

“I love you too. So much, as big as the flower heart. Even bigger.”

You accept the flowers and give him a smile.

“Thank you, Kook.”

He lingers, waiting – hoping – for you to make a move. You linger, waiting for your feelings to make sense to you. You don’t know if you are angry at him. He wouldn’t deserve it because he did nothing wrong and yet it feels as everything is his fault. If he wasn’t that perfect, that handsome and sweet, other women wouldn’t want to rip him from you all the time. Why does he have to be the way he is? You glare at him. Jungkook looks away instantly, shrinking in obvious helplessness.

“Okay then, I’ll be going now.” He says and looks at you hopefully. Maybe you want to say something now. But you only nod your head.

He stands up with a heavy heart, “you’re gonna miss out on couch snuggles, just saying”, he tries, but doesn’t get far. 

He ends up alone for the rest of the evening while you lock yourself away in your room. 

Jungkook tries to distract himself with a show and by taking Bam on a beach walk, but his mind keeps racing with memories of today. If only he did and or said the right thing. It feels like he fucked up everything. You have never been like this before, you never threatened other women or refused his apologies. It feels like the end and it makes Jungkook feel like shit.

When he comes back from his walk with Bam, your door is still closed. Nothing changed. Is this really it for you and him?

Jungkook runs away to the shed in hopes of finding distraction in a workout. Otherwise he would cry on the couch. He is in the middle of punching the punching bag as if it owed him money when he gets is a text message from you. He throws the gloves away and stops the music. He opens them instantly, eventhough he normally always forgets to check his messages. His heart is pounding in his chest to the point he has to sit down from dizziness.

-          Wifey ♡: Today was too much. She called you Jungkookie and hugged you…

-          Jungkook: I know! 😡 So weird!!! 🤢 it happened really fast, I didn’t wanna hug her and she never called me this way before. It’s so icky 🤢

-          Wifey ♡: She’s a bitch… I notice how women look at you and it makes me feel insecure. You’re so attractive and everything about you is so female gaze coded and so many of your customers are trying to take what’s not theirs.

-          Jungkook: I’m so sorry that you feel this way…What do you need right now to feel better again?

-          Wifey ♡: I don’t know. Maybe more effort from you? I’m so unfair to you, I’m sorry. I know you didn’t do anything wrong, but I still can’t be close to you right now. I’m sorry, I don’t know either why that is…

-          Jungkook: I understand, sweetie. Don’t apologise. I’ll give you your space. My offer for couch snuggles still stands whenever you’re ready.

-          Wifey ♡: I know. Thank you. I love you

-          Jungkook: I love you too, my egg :D

-          Wifey ♡: 🙄

-          Jungkook: 😝😂

You don’t text him anything else anymore, but Jungkook doesn’t mind. You gave him a task. More effort. Jungkook will think of the best, most devoted plan ever and literally sweep you off your feet with it. Jungkook spends the rest of his nightly boxing session distracted with making up plans. Once his idea finally comes to him, he abandons the gym instantly, hurrying to get everything ready before you leave your room.

You are a little scared of facing Jungkook again. You sulked for too long. Now it is already midnight and he needed to go to bed alone. You know that he won’t be able to sleep and you are scared of the tired, sleepy begs he will give you. But you couldn’t help yourself. You felt so insecure today and looking at his perfect face taunted you. 

With a heavy, fearful heart, you open the bedroom. You come to a halt, barely managing to close to door and then your mouth falls open. 

Jungkook is kneeling on the floor by the foot end of the bed. He is wearing a black leather collar on which a thick silver chain is attached. Said chain connects to a pair of matching leather handcuffs. Another set of chains connects these with ankle cuffs. He has his head lowered and is completely naked. The only thing keeping his dick modest is a chastity cage. 

The view is doing wonders. But what truly seals the deal are the markings he put on his own body. With the help of his black eyeliner, he wrote your name on different spots on his body. Under his nipples, all over his neck, right above his caged cock, along his arms, all over his thighs and his stomach.

“What’s that?” you gasp. 

Jungkook lifts his head. He also marked his face for you.

“I’m sorry for being a bad devotee, my queen wife. I didn’t manage to show you the proper amount of devotion. My flesh and soul are yours to break tonight.”

You gulp. Just now, your eyes managed to brush over the array of sextoys he laid out on bed behind him. Impact play toys, cock toys, anal toys, nipple toys. He is giving you full and sole authority over his body right now and how it is supposed to experience pleasure. 

Jungkook bows until his forehead rests against the wooden floor. The chains jingle as he moves.

“Please allow me to show you my devotion, my queen wife. I promise to take whatever you deem fit.” 

The sight, his actions, the indications are all indecently sexy and hot but you still melt in fondness. First the flower heart and now this. You never doubted his love for you, but you doubted your own ability to keep him with you. This right here feels so good to experience. 

You close the distance. 

“Look at me.”

Jungkook lifts his head, gazing up at you like a believer seeing his beloved goddess. You take his chin between your fingers. He sighs, leaning into the touch. 

“Those are some pretty letters you put on there.”

“They are the only letters which matter to me because they spell your name, my queen wife.”

“Oh my god”, you let out. “God Kookie…” You kneel down in front of him and kiss him.

Jungkook moans like a sinner finding resolution, tilting his head to deepen the kiss while his cuffed hands stay on his thighs, balling to fists.

“God fuck, Kook”, you get out, breaking the kiss.

Jungkook sighs, chasing you with half-lidded eyes. But another kiss doesn’t come. You move back, cradling his cheeks. Your eyes are a little glassy.

“I’m sorry for how I acted tonight”, you say.

He shakes his head, “don’t talk about this right now, my love. Just take it out on me.”

You smile without showing teeth, sniffling a little. Jungkook leans into your touch, gazing at you.

“If that’s what you want. If the idea is stupid, we can just cuddle and talk instead.”

“No. No cuddles. This idea is perfect”, you say, squishing his cheeks to the point where his lips stick out.

“Okay”, he mumbles with pouted lips, fluttering his lashes at you.

“Good.” You let go of his face. Ghosting your fingertips down his torso.

Jungkook chases your touch with shivers and sighs, gazing at you.

“Look at you. All of that is mine.”

“Everything. All of it”, Jungkook agrees, shivering especially deep when you feel up his thighs. He is so sensitive there.

“You know that you’re perfect? That you’re literally the most attractive man ever?”

“I am?”

“Mhm and it makes me furious sometimes ‘cause I have to fight stupid leeches left and right.”

“The only leech I want sucking my blood is you.”

You laugh. He laughs as well.

“So I’m a leech now?”

“Yeah, but you’re my leech. Just like you’re my egg.”

You push at him gently, “shut up, you’re the egg here.”

He grins cutely, cheek sticking out from it. You squish it and give it a kiss. Jungkook leans into it, wiggling his wrists and making the chains jingle. 

You drop your hands to them, following them until you can intertwine your fingers with him. He squeezes you eagerly, gazing at you.

So now you are kneeling on the floor, facing each other while the bad day is left outside the door.

“We’re gonna be so tired tomorrow”, you say.

“Yeah, it’s worth it. I could spend forever in your arms.”

“Oh Kook”, you lower your head and sniffle. 

“What’s the matter? Talk to me, my love”, he asks you in a caring voice.

“I just feel bad because I pushed you away.” 

“Don’t. I get it. Jealousy can make one act really out of character.” 

“Yeah”, you agree and lift his hands to kiss his knuckles. The chains jingle and he gasps softly. You linger on his wedding band for especially long, memorising the way it sits around his finger eternally and like it was meant to be there. 

“Wanna make up for it”, you say.

“You don’t have to”, he assures you, despite secretly soaking up the affection and wishing for it to last forever.

“No. I do. I really do”, you say and kiss each of his fingers, “mine.”

“Yours. Forever.”

You guide his constricted arms behind your head next so he is holding you. Like this, you close the distance, releasing a sigh of relief the second you melt against his chest. You hide your face in the crook of his neck and bury your hands in his hair. 

Jungkook closes his eyes, hugging you back as best as his constricted state allows.

“This isn’t right”, you murmur and fumble with the chains. They fall from the ring of the choker, next the choker itself falls off and your face can finally touch his neck. 

You inhale and exhale, “yes. This.” 

Jungkook quite frankly has to fight tears. He expected you to be a little mean to him, but not this. You are so tender and the hug feels so healing. Jungkook has a hard time not sobbing into your shoulder miserably. 

It becomes almost impossible when you begin kissing his neck and quite frankly becomes impossible once you leave your first hickey.

The sensation soaks so deep into his fibers. It feels so good tonight.

“Oh god”, he gets out, rolling his head back and whimpering your name.

You claim his newly exposed neck gladly, starting your heart-fixing task of marking him. Some kisses here and some hickeys there. Jungkook gasps and whimpers with each of them, while you feel more and more reconnected with him.

Your hands touch him everywhere. His arms, his waist, his shoulders and back. But the most favourite spot is when you suck a hickey on his skin and you get to cradle the other side of his neck. It feels so deeply possessive yet gentle.

Jungkook finally breaks when you draw a little heart on his skin. 

“Oh god”, he chokes out and hiccups a few sad sniffles. His constricted hands fall to his face, covering his eyes as best as possible.

You lift your head, looking at him worriedly. 

“Are you okay?” 

“Sorry, today was a lot”, he gets out, trying to mask his sob with a cough. 

“Hey, Googie”, you gasp, pulling his hands away to check on him, “talk to me.”

“I would never cheat on you. I-I’m so angry at myself because I made you feel like I would.” 

“Fuck, no you didn’t. Fuck Googie, come here.” 

You hug him, Jungkook hugs you back as best as possible. He sniffles into your shoulder, but doesn’t need to spill new tears.

“I know you wouldn’t cheat, please don’t be angry at yourself.”

“So you know that I’m loyal?” he mumbles with a pout.

“I do”, you assure him, scratching him behind his ear soothingly.

“Thank god”, Jungkook sighs, melting into you.

“You know, Katy said that you would literally cry if you as much as thought about cheating on me and it seems that she was right.”

“I could never cheat”, he shakes his head, “I love you so much.” 

“I know, Googie I know. I love you too. God, let’s just…let’s get on bed, where it’s more comfortable.”

“Yeah, okay.”

You swipe the toys to the side and push Jungkook onto his back. He lets you gladly, writhing with his eyes halfway closed and his cheeks flushed.

You open the ankle cuffs and chain, taking them off. The new freedom is taken by Jungkook instantly. He uses it to dig his heels into the mattress and open his legs.

Everything about his movements lets you know that he is riding it too. This wave of deep connection. It is as if your souls and energies are forming one synergy. You heal and in the process heal him. He heals and in the process heals you. This right now is one moment of utter connection.

You take off your pyjamas and sit down next to his hips. You cup his cheek, calling his attention. 

Jungkook looks at you and whimpers. His poor constrained cock wants to twitch but can’t. It hurts, forcing a pained whimper out of him and a tortured squirm of his hips to run through him. 

“You’re beautiful”, he whispers, reaching for you with constricted hands. 

“Thank you. You’re beautiful too”, you say and close the distance. You roll on top of him and let him put his arms around you. You rest above his caged cock, head sinking into the pillow next to him and lips brushing his neck. 

Like this, you enjoy each other how nature intended it. Naked skin against naked skin, hearts beating in sync and body warmths becoming one. 

“This is heaven”, he mumbles, nuzzling his nose against you.

“Yeah, it is”, you agree, getting lost in his scent.

The clock shows thirty past midnight by now. You and he are both so sleepy already, exhausted from a bad day and so ready for sleep. Neither of you want to fall asleep however, forcing your bodies to keep moving. 

You keep you and him awake by beginning a journey to his cock. You suck hickeys all over his chest and stomach next to the letters he wrote, making Jungkook feel so fucking good that he has to twist the pillow once you reach his cock.

You shove his legs apart gently and do what drives Jungkook crazy. You leave hickeys on his inner thighs, which feels nice but which feels miniscule once you begin leaving bite marks instead. Jungkook whines so agonised that it borders cute little sobs. It feels so good but he can’t enjoy it freely.

The cage hurts. It is made of metal and digs into his erection painfully. It hurts so much. 

You aren’t making it better by licking him over the cage. Warmth and wetness, the little spots which are bulging out between the cage elements get a feel of your soft tongue as well. 

Jungkook begs. Of course he begs. Jungkook is such a natural at begging.

“Please. Hurts. Please, no more.” 

“Keys?” the word tickles him, increasing his agony. 

Jungkook mewls and lifts his hips. Your eyes flit to his hole. Stuffed with a purple plug. 

“Are you serious?” you gasp.

“Yeah. Please.”

“Shit, this is so hot”, you rasp and tug out the toy. 

His sweet hole gives it up groggily, pulsing in emptiness afterwards. He mewls, curling his toes in desperation. You can only take it in halfway, busy with opening the special plug. It is hollow inside and big enough to store a vibrator. On normal nights this is what fills the toy but tonight, Jungkook stuffed the chastity cage keys into it. You can barely fetch them or use them to unlock his cage because your fingers are shaking so much.

To think that he stored his means of freedom inside himself so you can decide when to give it to him. He is so hot and you want him so bad. 

When the cage finally unlocks, you work quickly to get it off of him, throwing it to the side once you did. 

Jungkook sobs, rolling his hips up. His poor cock finally springs into its natural position, it is purple and bruised at first but flushes more and more the longer he is free. You soothe it by rubbing him with two hands.

Jungkook moans your name, arching off the sheets. His tip flushes, leaking uncontrollably. It feels hot between your fingers as you massage it from both sides.

Your name leaves him again, as a mewled stutter this time around. He has to repeat each of your vowels twice before he finally manages to get it out. He must be so sensitive right now.

“I could fucking pass out right now. I need you so bad”, you say, rubbing your pussy on his thigh unapologetically. The friction is all that keeps you sane. The knowledge that you smear yourself all over his skin is doing the rest.

“Fuck me. Please”, he begs, throbbing and pulsing in your hands. He is leaking so much, unable to stop.

“I will. I fucking will”, you say and climb off his lap. 

Jungkook doesn’t get it, whimpering your name.

“Please.”

“I will, just…need to do this”, you say and take his wrists to guide them above his head. You pick up the chain and shuffle up his body so you can fix the chain on the headboard. You installed your very own hidden hooks for it. They come in handy as you fix him into place. 

Speaking of places, you accidentally picked out the sexiest place to tie him down. Right above his face and you aren’t even noticing it. 

Jungkook makes sure that you notice by lifting his head and connecting his mouth with your pussy.

“Woah”, you gasp, dropping the chain to grip the headboard. You catch yourself at the last moment from sitting down on his face, but you can’t stop the trembles coursing through your legs. 

Jungkook mewls, flicking and swirling his tongue eagerly. You taste so good tonight. You always do, but tonight it hits different. It brings him back to a better reality. A reality where he gets to love you without insecurities nagging at you. A reality where he is your husband and you know what this means. And a reality where his tongue still manages to make you arch your back and moan his name as you clench around nothing.

In this perfect reality this would have continued until he made you climax, but you deny him. You lift yourself and pick up the chains again, securing them on the hooks as quickly as possible just so you can shimmy down again. 

Jungkook feels empty until you give him something else by kissing him deeply. His instincts tell him to sling his arms around you, but the chains hold him back.

He whimpers, destined to kiss you without hugging you while you slowly touch him. The agony becomes especially unbearable when you finally sink him into your warmth. 

He rips his eyes open, moaning into your mouth but it sounds more like gurgled whimpers. You break the kiss, looking at him for those last few inches. 

“Can you feel this?”

“Yeah, it feels so good”, he gets out, spilling tears. He is such a crybaby when you get him subby enough.

“Mhm, it does. Means we’re one. Right?”

“One. We’re one. ___ baby, I love you”, he gets out and sobs in sync with you bottoming out and picking up a rhythm. 

He tugs on the chains again, voice turning from a sob to a moan and head rolling to the side. He squeezes his eyes shut, opening his mouth and furrowing his brows. The hickeys look so pretty on his neck and tears fit his face so well. 

Your heart pounds and dances as you ride him because you are so happy and in love. Jungkook is the perfect man and he is yours. You don’t know what wondrous deeds you did in your previous life to deserve so much luck, but you are eternally grateful. 

“Mine. You’re mine”, you chant, closing your fingers around his throat to cut off his blood flow. 

Jungkook fights the chains, wanting to grasp your arms and force you closer to his neck. He can’t. He has to fight the chains and take the very passionate ride.

“Yours. Yours. Yours”, he keeps chanting, filling the silence up with moans and little sobs as you drive him to the brink of madness.

“Mine, yeah. Fuck, I need more”, you say and sit down on him. You slide your hands from his neck and look behind yourself.  

Jungkook watches you, filling your pussy with his precum as his cock can’t seem to stop throbbing. It hurts to only be warmed. He wants you to bounce on him again. It feels so good when you do because you are so tight and warm and his cock gets jerked off so heavenly. Please he wants you to move and to choke him and to move and, and, and. This is all he needs. Great sex and intense pleasure. 

“There.”

You make his agony unbearable by climbing off him so you could get the toy you spotted.

“Please”, he begs in a shaky whisper, staring at your exposed pussy and ass longingly. You are glistening and look just a little stretched open from his cock. You are also so puffy and look so, so soft. 

He wiggles the chains, whispering your name, “please, it hurts.”

Luckily for him, you return quickly and sink him back inside even quicker.

Jungkook moans, swelling inside you happily. His eyes roll back and close, his back arches.

“You’re too needy”, you tease.

“I love you”, he argues and you have nothing to say to that. 

He is so sweet, making you smile and pick up a rhythm again.

“I love you too, you egg”, you say, rubbing his tummy as you ride his perfect cock to pure ecstasy. The black eyeliner has smeared by now, sitting on his skin messy and unintelligible. It also spread to your skin, deepening the eternal connection you and he have. “God, you’re so fucking gorgeous”, you moan, slamming down on him especially hard.

Jungkook mewls, tugging on the chains and curling his toes. His submission drips from each of his blissed moans. How flushed his face is, how messy his hair sticks to it.

The knowledge that you are the only fucking person who gets to see him like this makes you feel so good. The thought that you are also the only person who he allows to be close in such sinful ways does the rest. 

His cock never felt better inside you, giving you pleasure so deep that you feel like floating. And you want more, shifting the toy you got into place.

His eyes are closed so the low hum of the vibrator turning on comes as a surprise to him. Just as the sensations do. The friction of your tightening walls hit him first, the subtle vibrations tickle him next.

Jungkook screams and tugs especially roughly. A dangerous crack follows and suddenly the chains fall from the headboard together with the hook. 

“Did you?” you slow down, staring in shock. He broke the bed.

“Sorry! I’m sorry! Please don’t stop, please I’ll stay put! Please don’t stop!” he begs, keeping his hands above his head.

“Holy fuck, you’re so damn sexy tonight”, you growl and pick up the rhythm again. You press the vibrator closer to your clit, resting your empty hand on his thigh so you can ride him like there was no tomorrow. 

Skin slaps against skin, wet squelching and slurping joins it and the bed keeps creaking. Jungkook’s endless moans and helpless gasps for air almost overshadow the other sounds.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you”, he keeps chanting, looking so pretty as he takes the ride.

It is almost one in the morning. You and he are delirious in sleepiness, heads dizzy and drugged up from sex. This is so intense that it is soaking into the deepest parts of your souls.

“Fuck. Your moans”, you get out, hips stuttering.

Moving becomes difficult. Not only are you exhausted, but you are also insanely close to an orgasm. He drives you insane with his noises.

You drop to the front, slamming your hand down on his constricted wrists and burying his face in your tits.

“Gotta shut you up for a moment, otherwise I’ll pass out”, you say.

Jungkook sobs, sucking on your nipples respectively. He drools, he slurps, he cries. Your nipples have never felt more appreciated than they do right now and it is going to make you climax.

“Shit, this is…urgh Kook. Now”, your warning is useless because it still surprises him. 

He muffles his yelp in your chest, fighting your hand because he wants to hug you. You won’t let him yet, needing the support to ride out your high. You moan his name and become a new person.

“Jesus fuck, woah Kook. Ah Kook, holy fuck. Googie baby…”

And Jungkook sobs, head dizzy and air sparse. He is so close. Your orgasmic convulses feel so good around his cock. The vibrations are so intense.

You are tighter after your high, wetter and hotter too. Jungkook is almost at the peak of what he can take. He thinks that he can’t take much more. And then you straighten up. You slide your hand to his nipples to play with them and Jungkook genuinely sobs like the subby crybaby he currently feels like. You stick the vibrator between his legs so it stimulates his rim and parts of his balls. 

Jungkook was right. He can’t take much more.

“Please stop! I’m cumming!”

“Cum for me, show me who gets you so high”, you allow him, rubbing the vibrator on his sensitive hole and pinching his nipple.

Jungkook wails, kicking the mattress and arching his back.

“___!”

He almost throws you off from how aggressively he bucks his hips up, but you are used to his wild side. You know how to ride the little beast that is your husband when pleasure really controls him. You slam your hips down, rendering him useless as you intensify his orgasm tenfold. 

Jungkook cries real tears once it stops. He begs and begs and begs. 

“Please no more. Please, it hurts. Please, sensitive. Please stop.”

And you listen. Well, in your own sadistic ways. You slip off his cock but give him no break. You press the vibrator against his frenulum and squeeze down on his lower stomach.

“Please, hurts. Please, oh god please”, he sobs and coughs, writhing and kicking helplessly as you overstimulate him. You are hovering above his shaky legs, leaking the thick creampie he stored inside you. What a shame that you are leaking, but it is for the greater good. Like this, you can torture him and overstimulate him until he gives you what you crave.

And because it is Jungkook and tonight left him so fucking ruined, it doesn’t take him long to reach it. Another orgasm. So much more intense and slightly painful it hits him. The pressure you have on his bladder decides his fate. He squirts what he held inside, ruining his tensed stomach and the sheets. 

He keeps begging the entire time to please make it stop, to please know that he is sorry, to please be gentler. But he doesn’t get it as he orgasms, of course he doesn’t. You want him dry and empty with the knowledge that he will only find pleasure like this with you burned into his mind. This is your way of making sure he is corrupted and loyal to you like a starved man wanting more food.

“Please I’m dizzy, please” he begs, crying miserably. What a cute crybaby he is.

The gentleness comes after when you turn off the toy and throw it to the side, when you wipe the orgasm from his stomach and open the handcuffs. And then you hug him and he finally gets to hug you back, sobbing into your chest as his entire body trembles from what just happened.

“Oh god, oh my god.”

“I’m here. Let it out”, you assure him, holding him close as he pours out his vulnerable heart. 

It is some time past one when he finally calmed down.

“Oh god”, he gets out, shuddering. 

“Do you feel better?” 

“Do you love me again?”

“What? Gosh Googie, of course I do. I never stopped loving you.”

“Then I feel better”, he whispers and hugs you closer, “I don’t know what’s happening to me. I feel so fucking vulnerable. Oh god, everything is sore and, and warm.”

“Yeah, this was pretty intense. You did really well.”

“I just feel so good when I’m with you”, he presses out and looks up at you. His eyes are devoted and glassy.

“I feel good too, my love.” 

He smiles and you smile too, wiping the remnants of his tears.

“Thank you, I love you.”

“I love you too, Googie.”

“Oh god”, he giggles, kicking his feet, “I feel so good.” 

“Mhm that’s good. Wanna talk about the broken headboard now? You felt a little too good there, didn’t you?” you tease him.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to break it. You made me feel so good and I couldn’t control my strength. Just wanted to hold you.”

“Mmh, it’s okay. It’s kinda funny.” You snicker and scrunch your nose. “And hot. My strong hubby.” 

Jungkook giggles, heart fluttering. 

“Yeah, yours. Your hubby. Yours. I love you”, he gets out, heart fluttering even more when you retort it.

“I love you too.”

“And you know that I’m yours?”

“Yes Googie, I do. You’re mine and I’m yours.” “Yeah, forever.”

You and he share a giddy kiss and get comfortable. You slip under his blanket and pull your pillow closer so you can stay on his side. The reason for your minimised space is the huge wet spot Jungkook left on your side. 

“Sorry for dirtying the bed”, he murmurs. 

“Is okay. It’s ruined anyway. I think we smeared your eyeliner everywhere.”

He giggles and hugs you closer, nuzzling his nose against you. You snicker, melting into him.

“Did you like it? I planned it really well”, he fishes for praise.

“I loved it. You look so sexy with my name on your body”, you give him the praise, sending his heart into overdrive, “thank you for your efforts, I really cherish them.”

“Anything for you”, he squeaks out, close to bursting in giddiness. He did enough! You felt his efforts and loved them! Oh, he will fly and dance and sing in his dreams tonight.

You and he are so tired, sleep is just an arm’s length away. Silence would be the most logical thing to share, but Jungkook still has something else to share.

“Do you wanna know something?”

“Yes, tell me.”

“Katy and Joe were really close today when I came over after work. They were this close to holding hands, I think.”

“Oh my god, this is so exciting. I’m telling you, it’s gonna happen this week. They’re gonna hold hands.”

Jungkook agrees with a little excited squeak and a nod of his head. You and he share giggles, nuzzling into each other giddily. You and he feel so good. Not only did you have amazing sex right now and made each other feel like heaven, you even got to have your daily late night snuggles talks.

This is the best ending to an otherwise bad day. Even if you wake up deadly tired the next day. Totally worth it.

[montagoves]

redamancy | jason todd

genre: comfort x3

warning: jason todd

summary: jason is reminded of how much he loves you–and how much you love him

a/n: after a handful of failed tinder dates, i just needed to write something to remind myself that if no one got me jason todd got me

Redamancy: a love returned in full

The word itself stems from the New Latin redamantia, and from the Classical Latin redamō meaning, “I requite love”. How we translate redamancy is this: a love returned in full; an act of loving the one who loves you; the act of loving in return.

He hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but the clicking sounds from your last-minute essay writing and the soft sounds of The Cranberries had lulled him into the first real nap he’s taken in the last few months. The book he had barely gotten a chapter through laid over his face, blocking the overhead lights you both hated but you swore made you more motivated to do homework. In reality, you just hated them so much that it drove you to work quicker so you could turn them off as soon as you were done. 

You had a lot of small things like that – things that made Jason’s heart swoon in a way he didn’t think it was capable of. Like when you tell him that pile of laundry would eventually get done, you just had to get hit with the cleaning zoomies which occur “approximately every 3-4 weeks.” And when you do get hit with the cleaning zoomies, you put on your headphones, blare Deftones, and deep clean your entire apartment. You could spend hours cleaning the bathroom, neglecting all your other responsibilities. 

Like eating your meals, which in that case Jason always came to your rescue. He’d pat your pretty head and once you took off your headphones and looked up at him with those eyes, he’d tell you he made your favorite meal. You’d reluctantly go to eat with him, and after enjoying the meal with your lover you’d feel lazy. You’d blame him for ruining your motivation, and Jason would just kiss your sweet lips and tell you he could find a way to motivate you again. 

Jason also likes the way he feels when you look at him. You two would be over at Roy’s place, Lian in Jason’s lap as Roy talked about some sports team that pissed him off recently. And Jason would be bouncing Lian in his lap or mindlessly curling her hair with his fingers. Roy’s voice would fade into the background and your focus would only be on Jason – on that smile that creeps on his face whenever Roy curses and Lian repeats it, on the way his eyes seem to gleam whenever he glances over at you, on the way you picture him holding your child, which you two have talked about but you’re both far too young to consider now. 

And Gods, when he catches on to you staring, his hands get clammy the way they did when he first met you. His cheeks turn as red as his vigilante helmet and he noticeably clenches his jaw to keep from nervously laughing. He’s never been looked at with that much love before. He’s had you by his side for years yet he still hasn’t gotten used to the feeling. 

What is he supposed to do when he wakes up to the feeling of you perching yourself on top of him during his nap? He remains still, for the most part, feigning sleep as you try to get comfortable. You must have finished your essay because from under his book’s pages, he can see a candle flickering, the smell of whiskey and vanilla filling the small apartment. He’s quick to close his eyes when you gently move the book away. He hears you take his bookmark, one you had handcrafted yourself, and save his page before setting the book aside. He feels as you lay down fully, your head resting on his chest and your arms attempting to wrap around his waist. Your head moves as Jason’s heart flutters, and your lips brush his jawline in a way he’d only let you do. 

“Baby,” you whisper to him, your hand moving to brush the bangs away from his face. He pretends to be woken up, his eyelashes fluttering open to see you. 

“Hi,” he manages to whisper, making a smile form on your lips. You lean in and nuzzle your face against his neck, and a shaky breath leaves his lips. 

“How’d you sleep?” you mumble against his skin. He slowly moves his hands, slipping them under your hoodie so he can hold your hips. You feel so warm. 

“Fine,” he mumbles back, watching as you lift your head. You look like Heaven, and Jason’s heart is pounding so hard against his chest he fears it may explode. 

What a beautiful way to die, he thinks. 

“Finished your essay?” he asks, his hand reaching out to cup your cheek. His thumb slowly brushes your chin, then traces your bottom lip. You blush, leaning against his palm. 

“Mostly,” you admit sheepishly. “You looked so comfy and I was starting to get a headache, so I wanted to cuddle with you. I’ll finish it tomorrow morning.”

He bites back the smile you never fail to produce, and his thumb pulls back your bottom lip. 

“That can be arranged,” he says, tucking your outgrown bangs behind your ear. His fingers trace along your earlobe, fiddling with the earrings you wore. A peaceful silence falls over the two of you, and Jason’s extremely aware of the look in your eyes. His cheeks twinge that red shade, and he clenches his jaw. 

“I love you,” you finally whisper. He gulps, his eyes flicking to yours. At that moment, he swears no one could make his body react in the way you managed to do. 

“I love you too,” he whispers back after a few moments. The words are new to him, almost sounding foreign on his tongue. But he makes an internal promise to practice this language for you. 

He practices it as you lean down and press your lips to his. He cups the back of your head to bring you closer, in an attempt to become one. You let out a soft sigh that makes his body shiver, and you pull away with yet another gorgeous smile on your lips. 

You lay on him again, your head resting in the crook between his shoulder and neck. Jason’s fingers thread through your hair as soft snores leave your lips. 

He hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but your body on his makes his eyes shut and his arms move to rest around your shoulders. His muscles relax and his heart returns to its natural pace. He feels you shift for a moment, your lips brushing his neck to give him one final kiss. To remind him you’re here, and that you’re not going anywhere. 

Another thing Jason loves about you – you love him back just the same.

[rubysunnday]

take my hand

summary: as much as y/n appreciates anthony's matchmaking efforts, it's hard to accept them when he's the only man she wants. luckily for her, a fall in the lake allows her to voice her feelings in more ways than one

a/n: 4.4k of pure angst/fluff and, yes, smut

Promenading was probably one of the most pointless endeavours the ton insisted on participating in. Miss Y/N Moore loved going on walks around the city. But when she was surrounded by the ton and their watching eyes and gossiping mouths, it was hard to enjoy anything.

"Stop glowering," her mother hissed, elbowing her in the side. "Smile."

Y/N sighed. But she raised her chin and smiled politely as they walked past the Featherington family.

There was only one reason why her mother had forced her out of the house: the Earl of Newburgh.

He'd been courting Y/N since the second week of the season. They'd danced together at almost every ball, gone to museum visits together and he'd had dinner at her house. Twice.

They were practically engaged in the eyes of the ton.

Yet Y/N wasn't happy. She liked the earl, there was nothing wrong with him. He was a lovely man. But there was no spark between them. Their relationship just felt like a good friendship.

She had never confessed it to her mother, however. If she did, Y/N was certain her mother would swoon.

"I do not see the earl anywhere," her mother muttered, rising up on to her tiptoes.

Y/N tugged on her arm and forced her back down. "He might not be here yet, mama."

"He did invite you to promenade with him, yes?"

"Yes -"

"Then why is he not here?"

Y/N kept quiet. Sometimes, when her mother got annoyed, she talked to herself, grumbling about anything and everything. It was easier to let her talk aloud and not acknowledge anything - otherwise they'd end up in a fight and Y/N knew how they always ended.

As her mother kept rattling on, Y/N gazed across the crowd gathered down by the lake. There were awnings pitched up along the edge of the clearing, providing shade to the families sitting under them. It was a beautiful day and the lake had numerous boats upon it, gently gliding over the water.

Y/N's roving gaze moved past and then came back to an awning nearest the lake. It, and the carriage, were both light blue. The carriage door boasted the Bridgerton family crest and Y/N's heart stuttered.

It was as if he knew she was looking.

Viscount Anthony Bridgerton looked up. He was sat on a blanket, his youngest sister Hyacinth sat by him, tucked into his side. They were making a daisy chain together. It snaked down Anthony's legs, growing longer as Hyacinth added to it.

It was as if the world stopped for a moment, blurring everything out except Anthony.

"Y/N, darling!"

Y/N jumped slightly. She turned and saw the Earl of Newburgh walking towards her, her mother practically hanging off his arm.

"I found him!"

Y/N tried not to cringe. She kept her composure and smiled at the earl, curtseying as he approached. "My Lord."

"Would you care to promenade with me, Miss Moore?" He asked, smiling at her as he offered her his arm.

"I would love to," she replied, threading her arm through his.

Her mother giggled. Giggled. Y/N tried not to sigh but her composure must've slipped as the Earl patted her hand sympathetically.

They walked down the grass, past the families and toward the water. Y/N could feel guilt eating at her every time she glanced at the earl. She didn't want to inconvience him or hurt his feelings. But she also didn't want to trap him in a marriage that was one sided.

"Miss Moore -"

"My lord -"

They both stopped abruptly, hearing the other speak. The earl laughed, shaking his head.

"Please, go first, Miss Moore."

Y/N sighed. "My lord, I apologise but I... I would rather we remain friends than take this any further. I value you and our friendship," she added quickly, "but I just do not feel any..."

"Spark?"

Y/N smiled and nodded. "I know I am running out of time," she said quietly. "And any other woman would accept your suit and gladly become a countess. But I yearn for a love match, as foolish as that might seem. I want what so many of the ton have and I am not quite ready to give up on that idea yet."

"I do not think you should either," the earl replied. He took her hand in his. "We all deserve a chance at true love, Miss Moore. I can only hope you find it."

"As do I, my lord." She curtseyed. "I hope to see you around."

It was as if her mother knew what had just happened. As the earl walked away, Y/N turned, glancing over at her. She could see the fury on her face even from this far away. Y/N swallowed as she began to walk back to her mother, bracing herself for the fallout.

"Miss Moore!"

She stilled. The voice as achingly familiar. She could smell him and it filled her with a weird warmth.

Y/N turned. Anthony Bridgerton was standing there, hands clasped behind his back, wearing a dark blue jacket.

"Lord Bridgerton," Y/N said, curtseying.

Anthony smiled. "I was Anthony last week," he said, moving closer.

"My mother is watching," Y/N replied softly. She risked a glance over her shoulder. "I just ended things with the Earl of Newburgh."

"Why?"

Y/N turned back to face him. She shrugged. "There was no spark."

Anthony nodded once. He glanced over her shoulder. "Well, would you like to come out onto the lake with me?" He asked, extending his hand out. "To escape your mother for a moment?"

Y/N looked at his bare hand. Slowly, she placed her own bare hand in his, letting him guide her hand to the crook of his elbow. She could feel the warmth of his body even through the dark blue wool of his jacket.

They began to walk towards the dock set up on the edge of the lake. The sun emerged from behind the clouds, sparkling off the water for a moment before disappearing again.

Anthony held her hand as she stepped into the boat. He kept her steady as it rocked, not letting go until she did. Y/N sat down on the chair built into the boat. Anthony sat down opposite her, grabbing the oars.

One of the workers untied them from the dock and gave them a gentle push out onto the lake. Anthony began to row, the oars splashing in and out of the water. Y/N sighed, relaxing back against the cushions, grateful to have escaped her mother's wrath for a moment.

Anthony was quiet for a while. He rowed them away from the dock, weaving through the other boats on the lake.

"What made you deny the earl?" Anthony asked, breaking the silence that had fallen over them.

Y/N exhaled softly, letting her hand trail through the water. "There was no spark," she replied. "I felt nothing but friendship towards him."

"What is it you look for?"

"A love match," Y/N replied, taking her hand out the water and shaking the droplets off. "Despite how foolish it may seem, I yearn for a love match. One that matches the stories I read when I was younger. Whilst I know it will probably never happen, younger me isn't quite ready to give up on the idea yet."

"I do not think it foolish," Anthony said softly. He slowed the oars, holding them loosely in his hands. "Nor do I think you should give up on it."

Y/N found his gaze. The intensity of it almost took her breath away.

"I must admit, however, that I do not think the earl would have made a good match."

His words snatched her out of her dream. Y/N stared at him, affronted.

"Whatever does that mean?" She asked.

"Well, he lives in Scotland -"

"Do you have some personal vendetta against Scotland?"

"Other than the bagpies and the tartan and the constant rain?"

"Anthony, have you ever been to Scotland in your life?"

"Colin has."

Y/N sighed. "Your brother does not count." She paused. "Is Scotland the only reason?"

"Oh, I have a whole list."

"Oh for goodness sake."

Y/N knew Anthony had a soft spot for her. They'd been friends since she'd come out two years previously. He'd been a desired match despite his whining about not wanting a wife. Her mother had forced them to dance together numerous times and soon a friendship had formed.

Even if that friendship sometimes comprised of a very judgy viscount who seemed to make who Y/N was courting his business.

"Anthony, when will you realise that you cannot control who I court?" Y/N asked softly.

Anthony began rowing them back to the dock. "I do not claim to try to."

"But you do."

"If you want me to stop, you need only ask."

"Anthony, that's not what..." Y/N sighed heavily. "I do not get a lot of choice in this world, please stop trying to control the one thing I do get to choose."

"I was not aware I was," Anthony replied, brow furrowing.

Y/N didn't want to say it. But she knew she had to.

"Well, you are," she replied gently. "I appreciate the concern but... I do not have long left to find my true love. And you, Viscount Bridgerton, are not helping things."

She knew it was a low blow. All Anthony wanted to do was protect her. But he kept scaring off countless suitors - sometimes before Y/N could even speak to them. It was a miracle the earl had managed to bypass Anthony at all.

The boat hit the dock. Y/N looked at Anthony and could see the muscles in his jaw clenching. He cleared his throat and stood up, pulling his jacket down.

Anthony climbed out the boat and crouched down, tying the rope back to the dock. He said nothing. Y/N hated the silence. She'd upset him, she knew that.

But she could not allow him to keep matchmaking for her when the only one she wanted was him. It hurt to see him try to marry her off to another man. All she wanted to do was be with him.

She'd denied it for months. The feelings that had begun to blossom inside her. They had become uncontrollable now, taking over her entire being whenever she saw him.

She was in love with Anthony Bridgerton.

The man who was against love, against marriage, against happy ever afters. He had made his intentions clear and Y/N knew he was not going to back down on them for her.

Her heart belonged to him and he didn't even know it.

Anthony held out his hand to her. "Miss Moore."

"Lord Bridgerton." She placed her hand in his.

Y/N stepped out of the boat and onto the dock. As she did so, she glanced down at their hands, fingers still holding on to one another.

Neither one of them wanted to let go. Even as the seconds ticked by. Anthony ran his thumb along her knuckles, hovering over the ring she wore on her middle finger.

Then, as if struck by lighting, they pulled apart. Y/N and Anthony both took a step back together, not realising another couple were directly behind them.

There was a yelp of surprise. It was a tangle of limbs and ropes and suddenly, Y/N found herself hitting the water. For a moment, she was blinded, but then she found her way upright and surfaced.

She turned her head, catching the splash as Anthony awkwardly surfaced from the depths of the lake, arms wheeling. The other man they'd knocked into the water was glowering at them but Y/N didn't care.

In fact, she was finding the entire situation highly amusing.

A crowd had gathered at the edge of the dock, her mother among them. Anthony was angrily shedding his jacket and cravat, slinging them into the water.

Y/N made the mistake of looking over.

His white shirt was near see through thanks to the water. It clung to his torso, highlighting the muscles and giving her a near clear view of everything.

Her cheeks began to burn and Y/N turned away quickly.

"Anthony, are you okay?"

Y/N looked up at the dock. Daphne Bridgerton, Anthony's sister, was stood at the edge, looking down at them, his brother Benedict next to them.

Benedict looked as amused as Y/N did at the whole situation.

"No," he grunted. "This idiot decided to tie his boat where there was no space!"

"You walked into me, my lord!"

Y/N rolled her eyes as the two man began to bicker. She half swam, half waded away back to the dock. The crowd moved back as she put her hands on the edge and pushed herself up onto it, gratefully accepting Benedict's help as he pulled her back onto dry land.

She knew she looked a mess. Her dress was covered in grime from the lake and there was a stray twig stuck in her hair. Yet she didn't seem to care.

Y/N shook her head, pulling the twig out. She looked up as Benedict straightened, giving her a smile. He held out his hand and pulled her to her feet

Y/N watched as Benedict crouched back down and offered a hand to his brother. Anthony slapped it aside, glowering at Benedict as he laughed at his brother's misfortune.

Anthony clambered back up onto the dock and snatched a towel from one of the workers hovering hesitantly nearby. He marched off, giving Y/N a tilt of the head as he passed by.

Y/N watched him leave. A shiver danced through her body and she wrapped her arms around herself. A warm jacket landed around her shoulders.

"So you have a reason to come by," Benedict whispered in her ear as he stepped back.

Y/N smiled up at him, pulling the jacket tight around her.

She knocked on the front door of Bridgerton house, Benedict's freshly laundered jacket in her hand. It wasn't long before the butler opened the door and ushered her inside, taking her calling card.

Y/N waited in the foyer for a moment, admiring the paintings and the walls. Then, the butler appeared again and guided her up the stairs to the drawing room.

"Y/N!"

She'd barely taken one step inside the room before Hyacinth came barreling at her, wrapping her arms around her waist.

"Hyacinth," Violet admonished, hurrying over. "Please do not ambush Miss Moore."

Hyacinth beamed up at Y/N before skipping away, back to her marbles.

"Miss Moore - Y/N," Violet corrected, seeing Y/N open her mouth to do so, "what do we owe the pleasure?"

Y/N held up the jacket. "I believe this is your son's." She paused. "The artistic one."

Violet chuckled, taking the jacket from Y/N. "Thank you," she replied. "I do apologise for what -"

"Oh, it was not anyone's fault," Y/N said, shrugging. "A funny accident was all it was."

Violet sighed. "I wish Anthony saw it that way. He is still rather angry at being pushed into the lake."

Y/N knew that, whilst he probably was angry at that, it wasn't the only thing. Yet, she did not say so aloud.

"I apologise for the lack of people here," Violet continued. "All of them are out. Bar Anthony, he's in his office."

"Not to worry, I only came to drop the jacket off," Y/N replied. She paused, hesitating to ask her next question.

"What is it, Y/N?" Violet asked, her mother's instinct isntantly reading the heistation on Y/N's face.

"I may have said some things to your son that upset him," she admitted softly. "I should not have done so but..." She sighed. "I cannot explain it myself, to be honest."

Violet nodded, eyes full of understanding. "You do not need to. Your relationship with Anthony is a special one. I do hope that this does not ruin it." Violet smiled. "I always think it best to be honest with someone, Y/N. Even if it's scary. It almost always helps things."

Y/N nodded. "Thank you."

As she turned to go, Violet called her name, halting her.

"His office is behind the stairs," Violet said.

Y/N smiled at the older woman. She turned and made her way down the stairs. As she got to the bottom, she turned to the right instead of heading for the front door.

It was easy to spot Anthony's office. The door was slightly ajar and she could see his jacket, abandoned on a chair by the fireplace.

Y/N knocked gently on the door.

"Just a moment, Hy," Anthony called.

Y/N stepped in, peering round the door, holding on to the edge. "Should I be flattered that you assumed I was Hyacinth?"

Anthony looked up sharply, his quill scratching along the parchment in one, thick, ink heavy line. "Miss Moore."

"I believe it was Y/N the other day," she replied, throwing his own words back at him, hoping to lighten the tension.

It didn't work.

"Why are you here?" Anthony asked, gripping his quill tightly.

"I came to return Benedict's jacket," she replied.

His reaction was obvious, despite how hard he tried to hide it. His shoulders slumped and his demeanour changed.

"Ah," Anthony replied, turning back to his papers. "Did you get lost?"

"I came to see you as well," Y/N replied. She was still hiding behind the door. "But only if you'll hear me out."

"I might."

"And if you stop being so rude."

At that, Anthony looked up again. He stood up, pushing back his chair. "What do you want, Y/N?" He asked, walking over to a cabinet and opening the doors.

"To apologise for what I said," Y/N replied, edging further into the room. "I was stressed amongst many other things and I took it out on you. Of course I value your opinion and I appreciate your assistance."

"You did not seem to the other day."

"Well, I was having conflicting feelings."

Anthony scoffed. Y/N watched him pour out a glass of whiskey and drink it in one.

Y/N sighed softly. She walked further into the room, pushing the door shut behind her. "The truth is, Anthony, that... as much as I appreciate your matchmaking skills and your assistance with this whole thing I..." Y/N trailed off.

She could still change her mind. She could still lie to him, claim innocence.

But she didn't want to.

Now was her chance to tell him. To let it all out. It would hurt. The denial would sting. But she would get over it. And then maybe, she could find another match.

"I cannot have the man I love trying to marry me off to other men when the only one I want is him."

Anthony's glass clinked against the bottle he was holding. He went very still, frozen mid-pour. Y/N let the confession settle, the silence grow. She moved closer to him, the heels of her shoes against the wooden floor the loudest sound she'd ever heard.

"I can’t get you out of my head," she admitted softly. "You haunt my dreams at night and in the day. I find myself searching for you where ever I go, yearning just to hear your voice, to feel your hand in mine… your lips against my skin.

"You torment my very being. Whenever I see you, whenever I hear you there’s a spark inside me that demands to be let out. A spark that doesn’t exist with anyone but you, Anthony."

Anthony set the bottle down and turned to face her. Y/N didn't know how she expected him to react but the tears brimming in his eyes was not high on the list.

"I know that this might not be what you wish to happen," she added quickly, stepping even closer, "and if that is the case, I will walk away right now and forget this ever happened." She paused, breathing deeply. "But I think there is something, deep down inside, that yearns for this too."

That god awful silence fell again. The clock chimed from the mantle place, indicating that it was inching close to six o'clock. Anthony stared at her. Y/N stared at him. She let her fingers grip her skirt tightly.

"I will admit," Anthony said softly, his voice hoarse, "that I have felt something too. For a long time I have denied it." He swallowed. "I loved my father deeply and his loss aches even today. I fear to love anyone else as much or to allow anyone to love me as much because I do not wish to inflict that ache on anyone else.

"But what I have discovered since meeting you, Y/N Moore, is that the ache means that the love was so great, it cannot be put into words. We know what happens in the end, yet we love anyway. It has taken me a long time to accept that. To accept that falling in love will only mean more pain, more heart ache. But for you, I am willing to accept that. For you, I am willing to love again."

Y/N couldn't breathe. At some point during Anthony's confession, her breath had been stolen away by his words.

Here they were, baring their open and broken souls to one another. It shouldn't have felt this good. It shouldn't have brought her the relief it was.

Anthony stepped closer. Y/N followed his gaze, never breaking away. He lowered his lips to hers. It was slow and delicate yet the desire was there, the need for more was there. He pressed hard, pushing her lips apart slightly, wanting even more.

Then, they broke apart. Anthony took a step back. Y/N looked at him, breathing heavily. Anthony looked at her, his dark eyes burning into her soul.

There was a moment of stillness. A moment of calm.

Then Anthony surged forward, as did Y/N. They collide. His hands wrapped around her waist as he captured her lips again. They were desperate to devour one another, to know each others bodies, to feel one another after denying their feelings for so long.

Anthony lifted Y/N up and she wrapped her legs around his waist, never once breaking their kiss. He walked back and sat her on the desk, knocking over trinkets and piles of papers. His hands were frantic, desperately undoing the hooks at the back of her dress as she undid his waistcoat.

Desire coursed through them. The need to hold one another overwhelming them both. Y/N's dress fell down from her shoulders and ended up on the floor, forgotten.

As Anthony stepped back, Y/N jumped off the desk and pulled Anthony forward by his cravat. She smiled, licking her swollen lips as she pushed him down until he was kneeling in front of her.

Anthony chuckled, his hands reaching up and pulling down her stockings from around her thighs. Her drawers followed next. Anthony's hands danced over her hips and upper thighs as he guided the material down.

Y/N's hands caressed his face and combed through his hair with her fingers as he undressed her and Anthony tried not to moan in delight. He paused as her hands came around his throat, undoing the cravat and then drifting down to his shirt.

Teasingly, Y/N pulled the edge up, letting her nail lightly drag across his skin. A tremor went through his body, desire flaring between his legs. The shirt landed on the floor next to her dress.

Anthony paused, looking at her. “I will stop if you want me to,” he said softly.

"Please don’t.”

Anthony realised just how much he liked her begging.

Y/N lowered herself to her knees, looking Anthony in the eye. He recognised the look in her eyes and he slowly lowered himself down to the floor, the rug brushing his bare back.

She knelt over him, fingers dancing over his chest. Her hands moved down, brushing between his legs. He nearly came undone there and then. Y/N undid his trousers, sliding the fabric down his legs until they were both exposed.

Y/N lowered herself onto him, a sweetness growing between her legs as she did so. She yearned to reach down and relieve it. Instead, she straightened up, resting on top of Anthony. He tilted his head back, a groan burning in his throat. He let her warm to him, to his touch, and then he arched up slightly, encouraging her movements. Y/N moved with him, their limbs becoming one, entangling with the other.

Anthony reached the horizon of his desire, feeling it's release all over. Y/N rested a hand on his chest, breathing hard. She leant down, kissing his lips, the space behind his ear, his collarbone. She brushed her hand along the side of his face, taking in every mole, every detail.

Anthony took her face in his hands. He gently guided her up, until they were both kneeling again. Then, he pushed her backwards, letting her lower herself onto the floor. Y/N laid on the rug, looking up at Anthony, her eyes caught in his gaze. He knelt over her, his knees either side of her waist, his knee brushing her bare skin.

He smirked as slowly lowered himself downward, caressing every part of her body as he went. His hands ran over her covered breasts, hovering for a moment, before moving down to her stomach. He paused at her thighs and then, when he heard her whimper, went down further, to the sweet spot that yearned to be touched.

Y/N splayed her hands out against the rug as the sweetness between her thighs was eased by hands that knew exactly what to do and a tongue that knew just where to touch.

She didn't even hear the noises she made, so absorbed in the feeling of Anthony's fingers inside her. Her hips bucked up and he pushed them back to the floor, resting his other hand against her abdomen.

Needing something to grasp onto, Y/N reached for his hand. Anthony found it and gripped it tightly, riding with her as each surge of breath came in quick succession.

Y/N arched up, her head tilted back, exposing her throat, as she crested the wave of her release. Anthony finished off as she fell back against the rug, her skin glowing with sweat.

He laid down next to her, his hand coming to lie against her chest. He could feel her heart beating through the corset she still wore.

Neither one spoke - they didn’t need to. Y/N closed her eyes and turned her head, nestling into Anthony’s neck and breathing in deeply. His cologne was stronger there, evidently where he’d rolled it on that morning. Anthony’s thumb rubbed back and forth along her back.

In stark contrast from the hunger and desire that had gripped them moments earlier, they were both settled now. Anthony’s kiss was soft on her cheek, his hands gentle as he caressed her bare skin. Y/N found herself drawing circles on his bare back, following imaginary lines along the divot of his spine.

She sighed softly and relaxed further into his embrace, closing her eyes as she listened to Anthony’s heart beating in time with hers.

She awoke hours later. The candles had burnt down and the sky was dark outside the window. She was still in Anthony’s embrace, his hand lazily flung across her stomach, fingers on her thigh. She turned her head to look at him and he blinked at her sleepily, his hair mussed.

“I suspect I might have to marry you now,” Anthony whispered, tucking her hair behind her ear. He pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“I suspect you might, Lord Bridgerton” Y/N replied, smiling back. She brushed her hand through his hair. “Luckily for you, I’m all yours.”

“Lucky for me indeed,” Anthony murmured, pressing his lips to hers once more. Slowly. Deliberately.

For they had all the time in the world now.

[hellfirenacht]

Anomaly

Summary: You can talk to anyone in school with no problem. At least, anyone who's not named Eddie Munson.

Tags: Anxious-ish!Reader but not shy, one sided pining, no use of y/n, fem!reader

1.5k Words

You’re staring at him again from across the cafeteria. Eddie Munson is laughing loudly with his friends at their usual table near the windows. Your heart jumps into your chest every time you catch a snippet of their conversation. You aren’t trying to eavesdrop- okay maybe you are a little. But, they make it so easy! Eddie’s voice carries and you know that if people weren’t as judgemental then the drama department would be begging for his theatrics. 

Whatever they’re talking about over there, they look happy. Eddie was currently leaning over the table and was in one of his friends faces, but he was smiling maniacally as far as you could tell. You wanted to know so badly what they were saying, what it was that made Eddie smile so wide. Could you ever make him smile like that? 

Someone waves a hand in front of you and you snap out of it and look over at your friend, Stacy. 

“Are you gonna keep staring at him, or are you going to talk to him?” She asked, as she had at least once a week since the school year started. 

“Talk to who?” you replied, smiling at her. 

“You can’t keep pretending he doesn’t exist if you keep staring at him like the sun shines out of his ass.” She looked over at Eddie’s table where one of the freshmen had burped so loud even other tables were looking over. Eddie high fived the kid, and then discarded his jacket. 

He was wearing an Iron Maiden shirt that looked almost new-ish. You wished that Eddie was anyone else. Literally anyone else. If he was you’d be able to walk over to him, strike up a conversation about the band, ask him what his favorite song was. Talking to people was easy, but according to Hawkin’s High, Eddie Munson was no person. 

“Oh I can, and I will.” you said, and quickly looked at Stacy as Eddie’s head suddenly swung in your direction. You didn’t even think he was looking at you but having him looking anywhere near your general vicinity was far too much to handle so you looked down at your lunch instead. Pathetic. 

Stacy frowned and looked at you. “Go talk to him.” she said. 

“No.”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I. Absolutely not. What would I even say?” 

“You came up to me on the second day of school and started the conversation by asking if I’d rather fight a horse sized duck or a duck sized horse.” 

“It’s a good icebreaker!” 

Stacy all but shoved you out of your seat. “If I have to keep watching you make goo goo eyes at the freak, I’m going to barf. Just talk to him already!” 

You grabbed onto your sandwich wrapper in a feeble attempt to stop your ass from hitting the ground. It didn’t work. You groaned and stood up, glaring at your friend who shooed you off with her hands before returning to her own lunch. You flicked her off. She flicked you off back. 

You turned around and took a deep breath, clutching your trash so hard your knuckles almost turned white. Your brows furrowed and with shaking legs you started walking towards his table. That’s it, just one foot in front of the other. Just go over, say hi, tell him you like his shirt. 

It’s just small talk. It’s introducing yourself. It’s not like you’re about to go over and ask him on a date out of the blue! That’d be weird. You just had to walk the additional 30 steps to his table. 

You could hear his voice and you couldn’t tell if butterflies were fluttering around in your stomach or if you were going to be sick. Why, out of everyone in school, did you have to develop a crush on Eddie Munson? He was loud and chaotic and had a habit of getting into fights and rumor had it that he was in a shootout once, but no one could agree on the details. But he was also funny, and clearly so protective of his friends and his club, and you sat diagonally behind him in English and you practically swooned any time he was called to read because he was one of the few who would actually put in effort-

He was looking at you. Fuck fuck fuck fuck. Eddie Munson was looking directly at you as you walked towards his table. His brown eyes were curious but guarded, and becoming more guarded the closer you got to his table. 

You swerved around him and walked to the trash can that was stationed near the table and tossed your sandwich wrapper inside. You started walking back to your table, defeated, knowing that Stacy was going to just shake her head and talk about weekend plans instead. Maybe talking to him was too much to start with. Maybe a casual head nod or making purposeful eye contact would be better-

Someone grabbed your shirt as you passed by Eddie’s table making you jump and turn around in surprise. 

“Hey, sorry I forgot your name.” Zack, the kid in your science class quickly let go of your shirt, putting his hands up to show he didn’t mean any harm. 

You offered your hand and told him. “Can I help you...?”

“Oh yeah, I just got warned we have a pop quiz today.” He said. “You gave me that extra quarter last week when the phone ate mine. I figured I’d warn you.”

You felt yourself relaxing and you smiled. “Yeah, okay thanks.” you said genuinely. “I wasn’t exactly gonna leave you stranded over a quarter.”

“You saved my ass from having to walk home.” Zack sighed. “I still haven’t fixed my wheel on my board.” 

“Hope you get it fixed soon, and thanks for the heads up.” you said, and waved as you headed back to your table with Stacy. 

“How did I tell you ‘go talk to Eddie’ and you heard ‘make small talk with the skaters’?” she asked as you sat down. 

You groaned and shook your head. “I know, I know. I chickened out. He was looking at me, Stace. I panicked!”

“You’re hopeless.” she sighed. 

“You’re right.”

Henderson’s belch was the stuff of legends as Eddie cackled and high fived the kid. The sound had echoed through the cafeteria so loudly that other tables were looking at the freaks with either disgust or amusement. 

It had been a good day for Eddie so far, all things considered. Higgins hadn’t tried to pull him into the office, the jocks had been ignoring him, and he had actually turned in his homework today. Small victories, but victories nonetheless. 

But as the reverberations of Henderson’s belch faded, and the students around him lost interest, Eddie felt like someone was watching their table still. 

Gareth nudged him and jerked his head towards a smaller table a few yards away. Eddie swung his head over just in time to see you quickly look away to talk to Stacy. He should be used to people not liking him based on his reputation, but for some reason when it was you glaring at him, it bothered him more than normal. 

“She’s always staring at you like you’re some sort of bug she’s trying to study.” Gareth snorted. 

“Shut up.” Eddie snapped. “I guess it’s better than being looked at like a bug she wants to step on.” 

“Kinky.” muttered Jeff. 

Everyone laughed and Eddie shook off the weird feeling that always came when you were around. He was used to people not liking him for no reason, but it bugged the shit out of him why you didn’t like him. 

Gareth nudged him again, not even a minute later and Eddie looked over to see you walking straight towards them. Towards him. 

You looked pissed. Your brows were furrowed, and your fist was tight. Were you really about to come over and pick a fight with him? He found himself wishing you would so he could figure out what your deal was. You made eye contact with him for a solid five seconds before looking away and walking around him to throw something in the trash can behind him. 

That was... fucking weird. Bizarre even. Why the hell had you walked across the cafeteria to the can closest to them when there was one closer to where you had been sitting? 

“Okay, that time she wanted to step on you.” Gareth laughed. 

“Yeah, I guess.” Eddie shrugged. “She can get in line.” 

You didn’t return to your seat though. Eddie noticed that you stopped at a table to talk to one of the skater stoners. A few of them were regular clients of his, especially Zack, the guy with the dishwater blond hair you were now smiling at and talking to with ease. Even now, he looked high off his ass. 

But there you were, smiling at him and chatting with him like it was normal. 

It didn’t last long, maybe thirty seconds before you make your way back to your table and went back to your seat. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see your friend (Stephanie? Tracy?) looking annoyed. 

The whole thing was a stupid, nothing, non-interaction. Eddie was used to worse on a daily basis. 

So why was it that for the rest of the day, he couldn’t shake the way you were glaring at him out of his mind?

Dividers by @strangergraphics

Part 2

This was supposed to be longer but I ran out of brain juice. I might add more later if there's an interest, I just felt like posting something.

[cursedfallingmoon]

Once upon a Dream || Yan GB Sleeping Beauty x GN Reader

Characters: Rory

Summary: A cursed prince with no social know how

Warnings: Yandere themes, possessiveness

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦

Yan GB Sleeping Beauty who first met you when the King and Queen were celebrating his birth. A christening. You were very young, but you barely remember it in your current days. You do, however, remember the Dark Fairy Queen that had placed a curse onto this enchanting newborn as revenge against the King who had wronged her.

Yan GB Sleeping Beauty who ends up being kept away in a hidden cottage in the forest with the three good fairies as his protectors. All throughout his life, he grew up without knowing of his royal prestige. He found great comfort in the forest and the little critters within it. He did wander quite a lot when he had finished his chores.

Yan GB Sleeping Beauty who grows up beautifully and full of kindness for everyone and everything around him. He has an ethereal aura around him, and he handles everything with great care. It would make anyone who saw swoon. However, he has a lack of social interaction due to living deep in the woods and the only people around him are his caretakers.

Yan GB Sleeping Beauty who memorizes the forest from just exploring in his free time. He knows where the best berries, fruit, and wild vegetables are. Along with the best wild flowers grow. It was an average day when he found a scared, lost horse with a saddle on it. He approached the horse with a calm, steady hand in front of him. He placed the hand on the horse's face and tried his best to soothe it.

Yan GB Sleeping Beauty who follows the now calmed horse to a clear field of grass and wild flowers. There was also a clear view of the castle that was in the distance. His “aunties” had told him stories about the castle and the King. They also told him stories about the villages that surrounded the kingdom. He was so caught up in watching the castle, he didn't hear or notice the rustling behind him.

Yan GB Sleeping Beauty who becomes startled when he sees you running toward the horse. You looked soaked, and your clothes stuck to your skin in all the right places. He was flustered by not another human in the forest, but by the fact that you looked so enchanting. He remained silent as he watched you fuss over your horse. The care for your animal is very clear to him.

Yan GB Sleeping Beauty who is brought out of his trance when you walk up to him with your horse following you. You were so sweet when you thanked him for watching your horse as well as calming the horse down. You go on to explain you were bucked off your horse because they were spooked. Your voice when you spoke to him was so soft. His heart was fluttering. He wanted you to stay so he could hear your voice more and to befriend you.

Yan GB Sleeping Beauty who finds himself missing you over the next few days. Even when he's asleep he has dreams of you, as if he has met you some time before. There was so much longing in his heart. This is so different for him. He was acting so much out of character that even his “aunties” took notice. Rory would go out for long hours and not come home till the sun had set. What was he doing? They were worried that the Dark Fairy Queen would find him, but they couldn't share their concerns with him.

Yan GB Sleeping Beauty who becomes so excited when he sees a familiar horse. He runs up to you, his face all aglow from excitement. He starts to gush about missing you. He doesn't know how to converse with another person, but he's trying. He's all blushy in front of you. He helps you off your horse with a gentle hand. Even touching you is awkward. He keeps a hold of your hand and drags you through the forest. He talks so much about his knowledge of the forest he's lived in all his life in hopes that you would be impressed.

Yan GB Sleeping Beauty who ends up ranting to you about his interests. He shares things he remembers from his childhood, funny stories that involved his “aunties”. He didn't know when or how to stop. He just spilled everything to you. But to his joy, you were listening with a smile. He wanted so badly for his “aunties” to meet you. However, whenever he seemed to bring up this enchanting stranger in conversations, they would show so much hesitance. It didn't matter anyway. He was happy to just spend time with you.

Yan GB Sleeping Beauty who asks you a bunch of questions about the village and the castle of the kingdom. You tell him the stories of a prince that was cursed when you were younger. You don't remember the name of the prince, but you're glad to share it as best as you remember. You also tell him that you're not from this kingdom but a different one. You entertain him with stories about your kingdom and what it was like. He is so happy to listen.

Yan GB Sleeping Beauty who becomes very upset when you disappear for a couple of months. He feels completely betrayed that he's left alone just to wait for you to come back. Well, hope for you to come back. His “aunties” share with him that you were most likely visiting from another kingdom. He cries and begs for you to come back. He was acting as if you died. Those were very long weeks for everyone within the cabin.

Yan GB Sleeping Beauty who has his animal friends of the forest help him feel better while you're away. This usually entailed dancing with Rory and listening to his fantasies about you. He also had an increase of dreams about you. They were usually the same thing. You would come find him and whisk him away to your kingdom where the two of you lived together and had a family of your own. He acted very much like a love sick fool. Sometimes the Dark Fairy Queen's crow would take notice when he was watching over the boy.

Yan GB Sleeping Beauty who is so happy when you come back to him after a few more months of your absence. You apologizes profusely about leaving so suddenly without giving him a goodbye. Rory was so grateful that you cared about his feelings this much. He forgives you with a tight hug. What shocked him the most was that his "aunties" were right. You were just visiting. But what made his mind explode the most was that you were visiting the King and Queen. He hoped that the prince you had told him about didn't take you from him.

Yan GB Sleeping Beauty who clings to you even more now that you're back. He gives you updates that he thought you would find important. Little things that happened in his daily life. He shared his overwhelming longing for you to come back and the dreams he had of you. It bothered him so much that you couldn't see him everyday. Like when you did when you were visiting. That's when his eyes lit up when an idea popped into his head.

Yan GB Sleeping Beauty who decides that he'll go with you the next time you leave to go home. He declares it out loud for all to hear within the forest. He doesn't give you any chance to argue. He runs immediately after his declaration to share his decision with his “aunties”. He skips to his secret cottage, not taking any notice of the pair of eyes with wings that follow him.

Yan GB Sleeping Beauty who becomes utterly distraught when his “aunties” deny him to let him leave. They were very adamant about not letting him leave with a stranger. They never met you and they couldn't take any chances. He becomes so upset that he runs out the cabin and declares that he would run away with you. He runs through the forest to try to find you.

Yan GB Sleeping Beauty who finds you in a secluded lake alone. You looked just as enchanting as he did when you two first met. You were watching the ducks swim around. You must have tried to find him, but got lost along the way. However, his eyes scan over you and his face falls. You were surrounded by crows. There was one large crow that was much bigger than the rest perched on your shoulder.

Yan GB Sleeping Beauty who can't help but find the scene unsettling. When all the crows turn to look at him his back shivers. You follow the crows' gazes to see your blonde haired friend standing not too far away. He fights against the unnerving feeling and runs to you. The crows let out a deathly caw as they're scared away into the tree tops. He throws his arms around you, hugging you as tight as possible. He sobs against your chest.

Yan GB Sleeping Beauty who startles you with his change of moods. He was just so happy moments ago and ow he's this sobbing mess that has a deathly grip on your body. He was so cheery and was planning to leave with you, even if you didn't agree. He hiccups between his words as he tries his best to explain to you how his “aunties” don't want him to leave with you. However, he twists the story to make it seem like his “aunties” were the villains. This was all in hopes of you agreeing with him. You don't though, and he hates you for it.

Yan GB Sleeping Beauty who sees you leave the forest once more. He hates how you have to go partake in some royal's birthday when his is tomorrow. Why couldn't you have stayed for him? As he watches, his eyes never leave your figure. Tears well, and he slowly makes his way back to the cabin with his “aunties”. There they tell him that he's actually a prince. The fairies tell him of his true past and the curse that was placed upon him. The more he's told the more his trust breaks. By nighttime, he's in a carriage to the castle.

Yan GB Sleeping Beauty who is embraced with open arms by his actual royal parents. He's pushed into his birthday party with such suddenness. Frazzled, he tries to go about interacting with others, but there are voices in the back of his head. Voices that lead him through the castle, ending up in a secluded room where one spinning wheel stands. He reaches for the spindle, pricking his finger on its sharpness. There his eternal slumber commences. When he is found by father, he shrieks and brings him back to his royal chambers. The three good fairies make everyone within the castle fall asleep alongside their prince before they rush out to go find you.

Yan GB Sleeping Beauty who is asleep all the while you fight for him. He's awake just from your touch on his hand. The amount of love he holds for you is immense. He doesn't care how long he was asleep. You're here, and you're the one who saved him. Everyone else has awoken, and they go through with the party in honor of the prince. Rory tells everyone there that you saved him. All the guests go about singing your praises.

Yan GB Sleeping Beauty who is finally happy. Back at home with his actual family, and he can be with the love of his life without worry. The transition from being in a cottage to being a prince has been hard. He doesn't understand how the nobles interactions go, but he has you to help guide him. While looking for you, however, he saw you in the royal garden in an all too familiar scene. You with crows all around you, and one large crow perched on your forearm.

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦

Property of @cursedfallingmoon! Do not repost or translate without my explicit permission! Reblogs are welcome!

[bitterbutblue]

feixiao on top!

i'm guilty of falling for you twice ☆ feixiao x reader

~ feixiao is so cool shes so cool but shes also so babygirl coded u need to hear me out guys u need to SEE my vision like shes so babygirl coded please hjgsfjkhdlkjlka anyways domestic fluff with feixiao because we should love her more instead of thirsting over her

song: fallin' twice - chevy (robin's singing voice!!)~

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

"Jiaoqiu, can you stop that!"

"I'm trying to cook!"

"You're being irritating-"

Feixiao lets out a loud groan as the sounds of bickering fill the room once more. Being around you and Jiaoqiu always feels like a babysitting job with how often the two of you argue over the smallest things, whether it be his food being too spicy or your need to add coriander to everything.

"Guys, please."

Her voice cuts through the bickering like a knife, and you immediately shut up. You look away, pouting like a child with your arms crossed as Jiaoqiu raises an eyebrow, glancing between you and Feixiao.

"How'd you get her to shut up?" Jiaoqiu looks at Feixiao, who just hums as she flips to the next page in her book with minimal regards to your pouty state. You shoot a glare at him.

"Do you want me to keep going?"

"Both of you, calm down." Feixiao rolls her eyes "Jiaoqiu, can you excuse us for a bit?"

"Wha-"

The look she shoots his way has him closing his mouth and leaving the room with a disgruntled huff. The second the door closes, Feixiao gets up to walk towards you, wrapping her arms around you from behind.

"Darling-"

"He was being a bitch!"

"Language." She chides, lightly flicking the back of your head with her finger. You wince, but ultimately melt into her embrace as she rests her head atop yours.

"You mustn't keep picking fights with him, he saved my life."

"He's a cocky little bitch." You whine, and she just laughs. Her laugh sounds genuine, not those she puts on for appearance in front of the other generals, or in front of Jiaoqiu or Moze. Her laugh around you is light, and for a moment all you can focus on is the feeling of her heart beating through her chest, echoing onto you as her hand interlaces itself with yours.

"He may be sometimes, but you should still try to see him the way I do."

You turn around to face your girlfriend, sighing.

"I don't actually hate him, Feixiao."

"I know. But for my sake, stop arguing with him all the time?"

You don't notice the way her breath hitches in her throat when you smile up at her, you don't notice the way her heart jumps and flips when you reach up to cup her cheek. You don't see how her eyes soften when you tilt your head to the side with a small smile.

You don't notice how she falls for you all over again over something as simple as a smile.

"Anything for you baby."

She just blinks, face turning a light pink and you grin.

"Flustered?"

"No." She responds quickly, clearing her throat as she looks away. You grin up at her, pulling her so that she's now standing in front of you.

"You're so pretty when you blush." You whisper, and her ears fold down from embarrassment which has your heart absolutely soaring. Who else gets to see the tough general like this?

"You- uh.." Her eyes dart around the room anxiously, worried that someone may walk in.

"Stop worrying."

She yelps when you tug her down,. She stumbles over her feet, catching herself on the armrests of your chair so that she has you caged in between her arms. She turns redder at your close proximity and you laugh because how is she still so flustered around you when you've been dating for almost two years now?

"You're adorable."

She wants to swoon, the great general of the Yaoqing reduced to a giggly mess over her girlfriend. It took her a while to finally be able to put her guard down around you, but being able to do that was the best decision of her life. You love her, unconditionally.

She loves you, unconditionally.

"You're... you're also cute." She mumbles out, and you smile up at her before moving to quickly give her a peck on the lips.

"I know."

She finally lets out another laugh, the softest smile on her face.

"Get over yourself..." She mumbles, before kissing you again. You smile into the kiss, hand cupping her cheek before she pulls away.

"Jiaoqiu will return any moment now. Do I look alright?"

Her face is red, ears flapped downwards and she looks like a giggly schoolgirl after seeing her crush.

She looks perfect to you.

"He will definitely suspect something."

"Fuck."

Se doesn't get any time to even recompose herself because Jiaoqiu storms in, finger pointed up at you two as if accusing you of a crime.

"I KNEW IT. I KNEW IT- GAY PEOPLE! GAYS! MOZE, YOU OWE ME!! THEY'RE GAY AND KISSING!"

"JIAOQIU, GET OUT!"

[gay-dorito-dust]

Part 1 here

Tag list: @catr4dora @girlyteengirl18 @pheesfanfics @theilluminatidragonqueen @ryoiii @hehegerms @notsocuriousgeorge @mxr-lvn

You and Stan were enjoying your date so far that Mabel had set you up on, it was a cute little picnic near the waterfall and you were both sat in the perfect spot to over see the entire town. It was perfect and you would have to thank Mabel when you get back before midnight, seeing as she poetically pushed you and Stan out of the shack and told you both to enjoy your date and not to be back before midnight as she shuts the door.

She was a good kid with a big heart and you loved her for that as you fiddled with the bracelet she made you once with small smile.

‘How come we didn’t think of this before? Going on dates I mean.’ You asked as you took a sip from your drink, eyes racking over Stan’s form and admiring how dashing he looked in a burgundy shirt with a couple of buttons undone to show the gold hanging from his neck, accompanied by a matching grey blazer and trousers. With the way he cleans up it was enough to make anyone swoon for him, especially when he wears the cologne you’ve always liked the smell of, the same cologne that he was wearing right now actually as you rested your head against his shoulder.

‘Maybe because we’ve been too busy lying to everyone for thirty years, while also trying to get my brother back that we forget the simpler ways to convince people we’re together.’ Stan replied as he then playfully nudges your side. ‘And here I thought you were the smarter one of us both, toots.’

You swatted his hand away as you smiled sheepishly. ‘I’m smarter in other fields than the romantic one, it’s always alluded me to be fair as I’ve never been on a date before or had anyone express interest.’ You admitted, feeling a little exposed under Stan’s gaze.

‘You’ve never been on a date?’ He asked.

‘Nope.’ You tell him. ‘I was too nerdy and geeky for the most people but too smart and intimidating for others.’

‘Not even my brother?’ Stan then asks with a slight strain in his voice and your brows furrowed.

‘No? Our relationship was strictly platonic and professional. He is a smart individual but we had little to no emotional attachments to one another outside of considering each other a friend.’ You said. ‘Though that maybe due to how isolated we were from everyone else with our research but that comes with the territory of trying to make a break through within the field of paranormal discovery.’ You then added out of a need to provide a logical explanation as to why you and Ford were close.

‘Why you ask?’ You then found yourself asking him this time and Stan scratched the back of his neck as a blush crept across his face.

‘I dunno, just find it odd how someone like you hasn’t been on a date. You’re pretty, smart, funny, albeit a little awkward but that’s what made you cute and endearing, also how you would get this look in your eye when your talking about something you’re passionate about that you have to start moving other parts of yourself because your excitement for it is that great.’ He shrugs as he then looks back at you with the softest look in his eyes as he chuckles. ‘I guess I get bragging rights about taking the most beautiful/handsome smart ass on the perfect date.’

In your eyes Stan looked beautiful in that moment as the butterflies made themselves knowing within your stomach. He knew you inside and out and loved every bit he saw and you couldn’t help but reciprocate the feeling as you found yourself laughing and smiling a lot more in his presence. Stan made you feel as though you could drop being smart for a second and allow yourself to breathe and take in life while you can, he was a smart man who had a way with words when it came to conning people, but here he looked almost as if he were an awkward teenager on his first date.

‘Don’t sell yourself so short Stanley.’ You tell him as you placed your hand atop of his own, squeezing it before intertwining your fingers as you took the moment to recognise that being with Stan just felt right, it felt as though you were meant to be by his side and found yourself waiting impatiently for him to hold you at night and smother you in affection during the day. ‘A date with you is a date I’ll take over any other I would’ve hypothetically had in an alternate reality.’ You admitted, feeling a blush creep across your face as you felt yourself about to admire to something you’ve always had an inkling about, but just didn’t believe it until recently.

‘And why’s that?’ Stan asked, mentally having of the edge of his seat as he hoped you were about to say what he thought you were about to say, for he too had made a similar discovery, which was only amplified and proven right whenever he looked at you in hopes of seeing you smile at something he did or confined yourself in him.

Even now as he looked at you he couldn’t help but smack his younger self for not realising what he felt sooner, he was jealous that his brother got to spend a lot of time with you, but he wouldn’t change anything that had lead you both to where you were now as you have done nothing but brought a sense of happiness to Stan’s life that he had been devoid of since he was kicked out by his father.

You looked at him like he was something and he looked at you like you were everything because to both of you it was the truth. You were what the other needed most and now it had finally come to light all this time later, and after constant adamant denial that you could actually come to like each other, only for you two to do just that and find yourselves liking each other in a way that made words like ‘like’ and ‘love’ not a strong enough description.

‘Because I actually like you Stanley Pines. I really do.’ You confessed and the weight on your chest that had been there for while had suddenly lifted. ‘I really like you Stanley Pines and time and time again I’ve been finding myself falling for you harder than originally thought. I didn’t think I’d ever find someone but here you are’. You finished, frightened as to what Stan would think but found your head being lifted by your chin and looking Stan directly in the eyes.

‘And here I thought I’d live life as a lonely lousy man until I found you toots.’ Stan says softly as he looked back on his life with fondness while hopefully seeing his future in the depths of your eyes. ‘You’ve made me a happier man than I have been in a long, long time and I don’t want to let that go now, so what do you say sweetheart? Be mine officially?’

You held his face in your hands as you pressed a kiss to his slightly chapped lips, humming in delight when you felt him reciprocate the kiss, feeling his hand move from your chin to the back of your head to keep you engaged in the kiss, as if you had any desire to depart from the man you once thought as a nuisance but now a loving reminder that you were allowed to love.

How and why it took you both this long to realise wasn’t of importance anymore as you both got lost in the feel and taste of the others lips, feeling happier then you have ever been in a while. You didn’t need some paper to tell people you were in love, everyone could see that already form how you’d look at one another, a love so rare between two people they can’t help but stop and stare at you and Stan as they wished they had what you had.

You and Stan were perfect for one another and that night you both slept deeper then ever before within the others arms, knowing that what you felt was mutual that you slept with goofy smiles on your faces with a giddy feeling within your chests.

[buckyalpine]

Bucky feral over pregnant reader

Pure pregnancy fluff and filth. This was meant to be pure fluff and then as usual, I got carried away, idk why I decided to make it this dirty. 

I can’t get over Bucky being obsessed with you carrying his baby. Yes he’s excited to be a dad but there’s something about the fact that it’s you. You’re pregnant because of him, it’s his little one in your perfect belly. Every tiny change he notices in your body makes him swoon from, from your swollen achy feet to your tender breasts, and your slightly plumper cheeks. 

He fucking loves it. 

Your his baby mama and nothing else matters, he’s so proud and in love with you. The swell of your tummy makes his heart beat faster, and the more it grows, the more irresistible he finds you.

“You’re carrying my baby” he coos, wrapping his hands around your tummy while you stand in the kitchen grabbing a snack. He’s happy to cradle the little bump in his arms, easing some of the tension from your back, doing anything to help you feel better. He’s such a lovesick puppy, always looking at you with heart eyes and it doesn’t go unnoticed by the rest of the team. 

“Look, he’s going it again” Sam whispered to Steve, the both of them watching Bucky watching you flit around the kitchen with his chin resting on his hands, sighing, enamored with how pretty you are with your cute little waddle. 

“Does he plan on moving any time soon?”

“Nope” 

Bucky is so busy admiring you, he doesn’t realize the team has started timing records for how long he just sits and watches because they find it utterly and disgustingly adorable. 

He wants to make love to you the entire time, every hour if possible but mama also needs her rest so he doesn’t try to tire you out. That doesn’t mean he keeps his hands to himself, especially when you’re extra hormonal and needy. 

“I got you, mama” He soothes you, pulling your soaked cotton panties off and pulling up your oversized shirt over your belly, his hands gently holding onto your hips and he pushes himself inside. He loves this position with your thighs spread apart, belly on full display, watching your face contort with pleasure, watching his cock thrust in and out of your dripping cunt.

It takes everything in him not to cum instantly, fucking his pretty, very pregnant girl, knowing he knocked her up, it’s his cum that has her all round and perfect, their love making that’s giving him a family. 

“Fuck mama, m’gonna cum” He can’t help the whine and whimper of his voice, muscles tensed from trying to hold back but he can’t, your body is so warm and soft, “S’too much, balls feel to heavy, you make my cock so sensitive, s’all fucked up, I can’t-f-fuuckk” His hips stutter and he’s  spilling ropes of his creamy spend into you, already thinking of getting you pregnant immediately after. 

He can’t resist you even when you’re asleep. 

“Jamie” you whine, your futile protests turning into a needy moan when you feel his tongue brush over your clit, his head between your legs, the time on the clock 1:15AM. 

“Please mama? Wanna make you feel good pretty baby, you deserve it” He just had to get a taste and he doesn’t relent till his beard is soaked and your a shaky, trembling mess. He suckles and nurses off your clit like it’s keeping him alive, pumping his fingers in and out of you till your eyes roll all the way back and your voice is cracking from screaming. 

Your pregnancy has made him down right filthy and feral. Like when you finished up your shower, wrapped in nothing but a towel that barely covered anything. Bucky was sitting on the bed with a book in his hands, the story now long forgotten when he sees you sitting by the vanity, applying your lotion. You let the towel drop to the floor, now bare naked while rubbing silky cream onto your sensitive skin. 

“Fuck, y’can’t do that doll” Bucky groans, his eyes trailing to your peaked buds down to your stretch marks and plush thighs, the soft rolls of your back making him feral, something he desperately wants to grab and squeeze them in his hands. “Let me help you, mama” 

He’s about to set his book down but you can’t help but tease him, shaking your head instead. 

“Y’know I can do this myself baby, I need to move around, doctors orders” 

He knows you’re right but that doesn’t stop all his blood rushing down to his now aching cock, screaming for attention. He palms himself, hoping it’d be enough to calm down but nope. You start to massage your swollen breasts, the smirk on your face shows you know what your doing. His cock ends up in his hand, book thrown aside, chest heaving up and down. 

“Fuck, m’so hard” He moans, stroking himself while you giggle, continuing with your routine. “S’not fair babygirl, makes my cock hurt when you look so pretty like that” 

He’s careful to use slow, languid strokes because any tighter and he’d cum all over his fist. At some point his metal hand cups his balls because his body feels too hot and they’re so fucking full. He could cum just from watching you but he’s more greedy than ever. 

“Mama. c’mere, please” he pleads with glassy eyes between moans, struggling to keep his eyes open. 

“Need something Jamie?” You coo, your perfect naked form causing spurts of precum to shoot from his tip while you saunter over to him, removing his hand from his cock and pulling him to stand up. He’s about to ask what you’re doing, stuttering when you bite your lip. 

“Oh god, fuck, no, you-you can’t-” He chokes out while you sink to your knees, taking the head  of his cock in your mouth, swirling your tongue around. He sobs at how angelic you look, your breasts heavier than ever, tummy nearly touching the floor. You’re a whole Goddess, on your knees, sucking his dick, pregnant with his baby, Bucky swears he’s died and gone to heaven. 

“Fuck, A-angel, don’t do this to me, m’gonna cum so much, feels too good, you’re so pretty” He cups your cheeks with softly, whining when you pull of him with a pop, his arousal making your lips and chin glossy, dribbling down your neck. 

“Go on daddy, mark me” You smirk while he furiously jerks his cock above your face, cursing under his breath, his cock swelling in his fist. He feels his balls pull tight to his body, his heavy length leaking and already dripping on your face. 

“OH GOD” He nearly roars, coating your entire face with his warm, sticky spend. “FUCK YES” he lets the last few drops fall onto your belly, your body perfectly covered in him. He kisses it all off with sloppy kisses, hard again with him minutes, this time filling your perfect pussy up instead. 

By the time he’s done, you need to shower again anyway, which he’s perfectly happy with, this time excited to join you. 

“C’mon mama, lets get you cleaned up again” 

Sorry.