#but both points i made stand true.
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people who compare zoro to sasuke dont understand zoro, but also most people who use sasuke as a unit of measurement or point of reference to compare against don't understand sasuke either, I am in a tar pit.
#like ppl who think zoro and sasuke are comparible think so because they see zoro as this hypercompetant edgelord who doesn't smile post ts#when this is obvious not true. there are definitely comparisons you CAN make but those aren't them#but going on. sasuke isn't that either (bar the hypercompetancy maybe) ppl just think he is because they have either a very basic under#-standing of his character or only know of his fanon characterization#both characters are so much more complex in personality. characterization and motives#it sucks to see this comparison made to insult zoro because it's wrong but also it's obvious they didn't get sasuke either#but also because again there are a few interesting similarities I don't see people point out often#aughhh maybe I'll take a crack at that when I'm more awake#psii.txt
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this might be a hot take... but if you care about disavowing media made by bad people out of fear of looking like a bad person yourself more than you care about actually doing good things... you might have your priorities (and your morals) screwed up a bit :/
(see my tags for more of my thoughts on this topic! please try to avoid making make bad-faith assumptions about what i mean!)
#melonposting#there is a good case for not wanting to associate with something on account of the creator being harmful. sure whatever#but people have talked at length about the sort of moral ocd that it promotes when that idea is fervently preached and enforced#i don't know about you but i think there's a big difference between#a) not wanting people to associate with something because the media itself spouts harmful rhetoric#and because its bigoted creator both benefits from people engaging with the books and is idolized by many of the books' fans#and b) not wanting people to vocally enjoy ANYTHING made by ANYONE who's held any harmful ideology at any point#because doing so 'inherently' supports and spreads those harmful ideologies#it's true that you cannot separate the art from the artist#but good people can make bad art and bad people can make good art. artistic talent is not inherently correlated with the artist's morals#the goodness/badness of a person CAN seep into the art they make. and it often does. and that can affect one's enjoyment of it#but even then there's nuance to be had on how to deal with it#like my hero academia for example. when i started watching it in middle school i didn't know how misogynistic it would be#of course i ended up seeing it in the show (and god it's so misogynistic)#and i ended up learning that the 'joke' sexual-harasser character is a self-insert for the creator#which of course i could never get behind. the creator is undeniably a horrible guy#at the same time though the show means a lot to me and i've gained a lot from watching it#i won't elaborate here on how but believe me it isn't superficial. if you want to ask me about it i'd be happy to share#i can hold both in my mind. the disgust and the enjoyment. i don't think those have to be mutually exclusive#of course not everyone is like that; you could immediately stop liking the show on discovering the gross stuff. and that's your prerogative#i don't know... i agree with the values behind avoiding media made by people known to have moral failings#and in some cases (like harry potter and jkr) i fully endorse the values and the practice. but such cases are very specific#but in most cases i fear the practice is misguided and unnuanced and ultimately unhelpful in fulfilling one's values#it is largely a philosophical matter: about how an individual regards their moral standing in the context of themselves and other people#which is important to discuss - especially in our globalized internet age! speaking of which feel free to disagree with me#if you want to have a civil discussion i'm more than open to it#but no matter how important this matter... there are way more important ones in the world. especially right now#calling out people who watch a youtuber who said something bigoted 5 years ago does little to stop that bigotry overall#just have good morals and practice them! support oppressed people! be thoughtful and understanding and compassionate!#callouts and dni lists rarely make for impactful advocacy!!!
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i got the cutscene <3
#its actually crazy that there was even more content i missed that impacted the story this much#like this rlly illustrated how even tho my character and astari0n have both become better people astari0n is still so behind in that#(we know why ofc. hes still acting like a feral cat trying to self preservere with teeth and nail and all until the very end; the ritual)#my character had his most obvious 'shifting point' at the transition from act 2 to act 3#like he fully realized that this is now truly bigger than himself. he has left marks on the lands and he has to go all the way#he has made true friends. one of his best friends is the kindest most compassionate person in the world#and very importantly he loves astari0n and THAT is the reason he now feels this actual compassion towards the other spawn#hes so personally invested in this issue now#and he can say that 'the world can be a wonderful place if you find your home in it astari0n' bc its something he has just recently had#a personal revelation abt#and astari0n deflects it and describes my character as someone who now 'spends their life sorting out other peoples problems'#and it rlly brings it to focus that he just cannot meet him where hes at anymore#just great conflict that feels actually meaningful and perfectly fits into the roleplay storyline ive made for my character#and omg the line 'im doing this for you too you know. to make sure were both safe. forever' from astari0n is just AAAAAAHDJJDJD. CRAZY#bc we know how toxic he becomes towards you if he completes the ritual!!!!!!#HHHHH this character!!!!! hes just MWAH. perfection#i cant wait until i get to doing the szarr palace again bc this added conflict will make the conclusion of this quest even more satisfying#anyway TOTAL tonal shift time. in start of the cutscene astari0n is standing next to the bed my character was sleeping in#so i can now have the hc that some nights they sleep in the same bed <3#(WELL. you know. my character sleeps while he meditates)
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If I see any more misinformation about Kamala Harris to dissuade people from voting I will explode.
1. She did a lot of work as a prosecutor to dismantle the system. When she was DA in San Francisco she was labeled as being “soft on crime” which she in turn claimed was “smart on crime”. Harris made a program called Back on Track so that low-level nonviolent drug offenders could enroll in school rather than doing jail time. She has believe and continues to believe that supporting people prevents crime far better than criminalizing people.
Yes, she put people behind bars. I know she called herself the “Top Cop” and I fucking hate that. However, the number of people who served time in jail was significantly reduced due to her program. She’s not a saint, but she tried to reduce harm as much as she could in her position. Since then, she’s called for even more action in terms of legalizing marijuana and I believe recently fully endorsed it publicly.
2. She is not transphobic. Harris backed the state of California when it tried to deny gender-affirmation surgery to a trans prisoner, but as attorney general, she could not deny the state’s Department of Corrections as a client of hers. Essentially, she had no say in the denial of surgery herself, as she had to represent the department’s interests over her own. Once she realized what they were doing, Harris actually worked behind the scenes to get that very policy changed so that any inmate who needs that care could get it. Additionally, she has lead efforts to put an end to gay and transgender “panic” defenses in criminal trials.
3. Kamala Harris is Black. For some reason, people like to say that she isn’t, and that she’s Indian and pretending to be black… for what reason? Depends on who’s telling the lie to begin with. Kamala Harris is Black and South Asian. Her father, Donald Harris, is a Black man who was born in Jamaica. Her mother, Shyamala Gopalan, was born in India. Speculating about her race with so much evidence towards the contrary is so wrong. If anyone tells you shit about this, just send them her whitehouse.gov biography.
4. Harris (reportedly) has different opinions than Biden on Palestine. Whether or not she makes a clear stance against Israel, I don’t know. That hasn’t happened yet, but I’ll remain hopeful until further notice. She reportedly tried to push Biden towards “a policy on Gaza that was both more humane and in alignment with international law” but wasn’t listened to. The only reason why this is one of my points is that I’ve seen a lot of people stating that she is totally behind every decision and stance Biden made as president, which isn’t necessarily true. I don’t want to give her credit for being pro-Palestine if she isn’t, just to be clear. That is not what I’m trying to do here.
I desperately want her to stand for a free Palestine. I cannot make the promise that this will happen. All I can hope for is that her policy will be less harmful than Trump’s- who wants Israel to “finish the job” and promises to “throw (pro-Palestinian protestors) out of the country”.
Conclusion: the fact of the matter is that people make shit up all of the time. Sometimes it’s propaganda they accidentally absorb, sometimes it’s deliberate misinformation. People often take rumors as facts, and we need to be more vigilant about it. What I know is that some people will do anything for you to not vote tor Kamala Harris, when in reality she’s our only hope here.
Is Harris my favorite person ever? Absolutely not. Does she share my exact views and opinions? Nope. Would I rather vote for someone who more aligns with my personal views? Yes.
Is voting for Harris the only way to stop Donald Trump and Project 2025? Yes.
Disclaimer for the blog: To be 100% transparent, this is only my (Fanya’s) opinions. Although this is a shared blog, I cannot claim that my stance and my voice speaks for everybody involved in this blog. Some members are not American. Some may have different takes. All I know is that all of us are anti-Trump. Don’t go after my friends if you have beef with what I’m saying. I’m trying my best here.
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𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐎𝐑 𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒.
༆ jacaerys velaryon x fem!reader.
SYNOPSIS: as lady-in-waiting to rhaenyra targaryen, you find that her eldest son, jacaerys, is the only true friend and comfort you have amidst a brewing war that threatens to tear the realm apart.
note: jacaerys is nineteen, reader is eighteen.
༆ 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐓𝐖𝐎 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄.
༆ 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄.
{ FORMAT: one shot — requested.
{ WORD COUNT: 11.5K (this is a long one, not sorry!)
{ WARNINGS: SMUT (mdni), friends to lovers, inexperience from both reader & jace, loss of virginity (mutual), first time sexual experiences, sexual tension, p in v sex (unprotected), missionary position, lots of kissing and sweeter antics, slight risk of getting caught, oral sex (fem!receiving), handjob, fingering, hair pulling kink, brief overstimulation, tiddy sucking, this whole thing is soft & sweet smut, nothing disgusting here, jacaerys is the epitome of a perfect lover :))
{ AUTHOR’S NOTE: I am lowkey transitioning into becoming a Jace girl, I absolutely love him and I’m really enjoying where his character is going! This was a request from an anon user who wanted something freeform! I hope you all enjoy it, thanks so much for all of the recent love & support for my work! It makes me so happy! ❤️
𝐒𝐀𝐋𝐓𝐘 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐒 𝐏𝐄𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐊𝐒, harkened in from the gentle roll of the tides. Saltwater and dampened rock filled your nostrils, aided by the fluttering breeze as it danced across the obsidian cliffs of Dragonstone.
The castle stood the testament of time, a monolith to the rule of the Targaryens. It loomed overhead, less frightening in the lighter hours, blanketed by glittering rays of sunlight. A cloudless day — good for sailing, you thought, as vessels ushered in goods to the shoddy harbor below.
Beneath the vibrancy of a cloudless sky, you could see the shadow of a dragon soaring overhead — the Princess Rhaenys, from the horned shape above. You cupped your hand around your eyes, squinting to see, constantly mesmerized by such creatures.
In your fantastical dreams, you flew upon the back of a dragon, letting the wind scrape across your visage, feeling the weight of something so powerful beneath you. Of course, you were neither Targaryen nor Velaryon — possessing a dragon wouldn’t be in the cards for you, and perhaps that was a good thing.
As much as you enjoyed the beauty of Dragonstone, you much preferred the outdoors. The weather was splendid, and you took small victories wherever possible. With war on the horizon between your Queen Rhaenyra and her usurper brother, any chance at happiness was worth chasing after and holding onto, while you could.
House Celtigar had bent the knee to Rhaenyra, and your father sat at her council. You were made to be a lady-in-waiting, much your initial disdain. The station you held would’ve been considered a great honor to most young women, but you were inclined to be out in the ocean or on the back of a horse.
Now, you found enjoyment in it, wherever you could.
Oceanic air filled your lungs in a singular inhale, tinged with a saltwater sting. You stood near one of the many stone terraces lining the lengthy walkway to the castle’s entrance, accompanied by Joffrey. The boy had become your greatest joy amidst the brewing chaos, and you were rather grateful for it.
“Would you like to see the ocean, little Prince?” You held the boy’s hand, stooping down to wrap your arms beneath him, standing him up along the cobbled bannister. Joffrey’s laughter could brighten a whole room, and it did — it certainly lifted your spirits.
“When will I be able to ride a dragon?” He questioned, pointing towards the shape of Meleys in the sky. Joffrey was rather inquisitive — a sharp mind, one that would become a great leader someday.
You were unsure of how to answer such a question. Tyraxes was young and still small, just like Joffrey. “Whenever you grow up,” You hummed, a smile playing at either corner of your mouth. “You must be as tall as your brother, first.”
Joffrey toyed with the wooden dragon clutched between his hands, gaze falling toward the ground. “Luke wasn’t much taller.” He mumbled, and it nearly crushed your heart completely to hear the confusion and despair in a child’s voice.
Youth knew more than most, and in the mind of a child, something heinous could appear innocent, or something tragic was beyond their comprehension. Joffrey knew that Luke was gone — he wasn’t coming back. Silence drifted between the both of you, and you found it difficult to change the subject from Lucerys to something lighthearted.
“I miss him.” Joffrey’s sweet voice rang out like the pealing of bells, crystal-clear and downtrodden. You turned him around within your grasp, keeping your hands slotted underneath his arms to ground him. His eyes swam with unshed tears, prompting you to bring him into your embrace.
“It’s alright, my Prince. He’s still here,” You whispered, hugging the boy as tightly as you could. It was enough to rip at your heartstrings, tear you asunder as melancholy began to eat you alive. The fate of Lucerys was a tragic one — unfair and unwarranted, and now, a catalyst for destruction between kin. “We will remember him.”
From afar, Jacaerys observed you and his brother, standing along the ramparts with a palm atop the pommel of his shortsword. The emotional turmoil he continued to feel in regards to Lucerys happened to swell the moment he saw Joffrey clinging onto you — and he knew.
Wisps of a tempered breeze stirred his curled tresses, drifting across his regalia as it caught against his cloak. After the death of his brother, he had come out to the ramparts nearly every night, to sob and to curse the world, to pray to any God that would listen — return Lucerys, bring him home. He had lost count, and in turn, lost a bit of faith.
Remaining optimistic in the face of unavoidable danger was a difficult thing — fear had gripped him once, but no longer. He knew that the only time a man could be brave was in situations like these, where terror stared him in the face and dared him to submit.
Many still referred to him as a mere boy, with little experience and no real understanding of the world and its cruelty. Jacaerys had shed the raiment of boyhood the night he flew blindly into the darkness in the name of Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen.
With the man born, he knew that whatever would come next, he was prepared to face such challenges head-on. Brazenness was not in his nature, but he had learned to adopt stoicism when it mattered most. It was easy to shed the facade around his family, and around you.
His friendship with you was a calm within the storm, a lull in the tempestuous hurricane you were all trapped within. You now had as much stake in this game as he did — your father served on Rhaenyra’s council with Celtigar bannerman pledging to fight in the war to come, and you served as his mother’s lady-in-waiting.
Your blossoming bond was a great comfort, and the tender way in which you cared for Joffrey was a wonderful thing. You had a soft heart — a good heart, and that was something rare to come by. The two of you were both of a similar feather, and the admiration he held for you only seemed to grow stronger each day.
The word friendship often tormented him, on days where you wore beautiful gowns and stood beside his mother, or whenever you smiled. It tormented him when you held Joffrey within your arms and protected him just as fiercely as Rhaenyra would.
Honor demanded that he simply remain just that — a friend, but Jacaerys found himself smitten with you in a way that transcended propriety. To cross that line, especially with you, invited the disdain of his mother and the ire of your father, amongst other things.
Betrothal would be upon him soon enough, likely with a young maiden from the Vale or the Reach to secure an alliance, but it left a sour taste within his mouth. He had little desire to be with anyone else when you were right there.
Jacaerys steeled himself, abandoning his whimsical line of thinking in regards to you. It was a fool’s errand, and he couldn’t afford to be a fool. He stepped closer, the crunch of stone resonating underneath his boots as he approached you and Joffrey.
“My Lady,” Jacaerys’s tone was amiable, like the comforting lick of a warm hearth. His gaze flickered toward Joffrey, bemused with his brother’s antics as you balanced him along the bannister. “What are you doing up there?” He asked, playful in the presence of his little brother.
“Flying,” Joffrey’s head lifted from your shoulder, eyes sparkling with mischief. You happened to carry him in such a way that he called it flying — and he was asking you to do it again. “Flying!”
With a giggle, you picked the boy up, swinging him up enough to let him get some air. His melancholy turned to jovial laughter as you soared him over to Jacaerys, who was more than happy to pick him up. Joffrey clung to Jace, hugging his brother with all of his strength.
“You are getting too big to fly,” Jace mused, holding Joffrey in one arm as he motioned for you to accompany him. His tousled curls and amicable smile sent your heart fluttering as it had many times before. It wasn’t subtle, your liking of Jacaerys, but you understood the nature of your affections. “Big enough for Tyraxes, soon.”
Jacaerys was perfect, with all of the hallmarks of what a true King should be. He was gentle and eloquent, honed with a blade, learned — and above all, he was kind. The rage that plagued him now was justified, and it pained you to see him become coiled with anger, but you understood why.
As Joffrey regaled the two of you with tales of childlike wonder, soaring his toy dragon around Jace’s head, Jacaerys seemed inclined to converse with you regardless. “I always know where to look, whenever I need to see you.” He mused, walking alongside you as you made your way up the ramparts.
“Is that so?” You chuckled, head canting to one side. “What did you need to see me for, your Grace?” It was a force of habit — he was the heir to the Iron Throne, after all. Jacaerys regarded you with a brief laugh, knowing that formalities were often abandoned whenever the two of you were together.
“Do I need a reason?” Jacaerys mused, voice light and inviting. The crash of the tide upon the beach provided a rather serene ambience, accompanied by the calling of gulls as they circled the bay.
You shook your head, skirts gathered in one hand as you narrowly avoided an upturned plate of stone. “Of course not,” You hesitated, gaze sparkling as your nose wrinkled in mild amusement. “Jacaerys.” You ensured to exaggerate his name, allowing for your conversation to become personal.
At the end of the ramparts, a flock of crimson-clad handmaidens awaited your return. It was likely that they were waiting for you to hand Joffrey over, much to your dismay. The black-headed boy looked to you as you neared the end of your walk.
“I don’t want to go,” He protested, reaching for you as you stepped forward, taking a hold of his hand. “When can we fly again?” Joffrey asked, lower lip jutting out in a rather innocuous pout. He leaned forward, partially out of Jace’s grasp to give you a hug.
“Tomorrow, my Prince. I will let you fly as much as you’d like.” You assured him, reciprocating his hug with one of your own, with all of the warmth one could muster. It was motherly in-nature, and you watched as Jacaerys planted him onto solid ground.
Joffrey took the outstretched hand of a handmaiden, glancing back at you and Jacaerys before they disappeared behind the castle’s massive gates. It always hurt you to leave him, but you knew that tomorrow would come swiftly. A begrudging sigh escaped you before you looked at Jacaerys, countenance somber.
Jace knew what you were about to say — something about Lucerys. The gaping wound left within his heart was barely healed, still oozing with pain, but he was making every effort to mend it. You helped — your resolute reassurance and shoulder to lean on, but sometimes, it wasn’t enough.
Instead, you reached for Jace’s forearm, giving it a brief squeeze of comfort. Whatever sentiments he held, you seemed to echo it, leaving it all unspoken. You and Jacaerys had already spoken about it all at-length — sometimes, he had little desire to tear himself open again.
His head hung low, heap of dark curls billowing in the wind. Jacaerys’s jaw tightened for a brief moment, and he imagined plunging his sword into Aemond Targaryen’s other eye — and then it passed, just as quickly as it had appeared.
A forlorn silence settled between the both of you, one that was born out of mutual understanding and empathy. Jace went quiet often, and you were content to sit in it for as long as he pleased. Instead, you stepped toward the bannister, palms planting themselves atop the stone as you gazed out toward the land surrounding Dragonstone.
“You are good with him,” Jacaerys broke the silence, deliberately stepping towards you as he stood by your side. Joffrey and his half-brothers, Aegon and Viserys, were all he had left. He would die for them if he had to. “He talks about you often.”
An exuberant smile crept onto your features, one of a sweet fondness in regards to Joffrey. “He is a sweet boy — very sharp-witted, though. I would imagine he will grow to be very wise.” You replied, idly tracing your fingers around some of the rocks socketed into the bannister.
“I remember the day he was born,” Jacaerys recalled, remembering the day that his mother, pale skin glistening with sweat, had wobbled into the drawing room, a newborn Joffrey in her arms. “It was a beautiful day, and Ser Harwin was there, and Ser Laenor …” He trailed off, recalling the way that Lucerys had begged to hold his younger brother.
The topic of both Laenor and Harwin were bitter ones — both men playing the role of father. Jacaerys loved them both, as any son would. Another gust of saltwater mist brushed along the ramparts, dusting your cheeks with wisps of moist air.
Wordlessly, you reached for Jace’s arm, looping yours around him as you let him lean against you for support. As much as Jacaerys insisted that he would recover and move on, you ensured him that grieving took time — it came in many shapes and forms.
Jace’s smile was wistful and threadbare, made sorrowful by memories of Lucerys. He didn’t want to sully the moment with his melancholy, holding his head high as he glanced toward you. You were not looking, but it allowed him a moment of appreciation and admiration.
Your beauty was unparalleled, your features delicate and smile like the warmth of a summer sunshine. The way in which you carried yourself was of a kindly disposition, made to be nurturing and helpful instead of imposing. Admittedly, you took his breath away — the feeling was a constant one.
Sunlight sparkled across your countenance, gaze soothing and full of empathy. The way in which you grasped his arm, kept yourself tucked away within his side, it invoked feelings of protectiveness — and newfound affection.
A dragon’s shrill cry reverberated throughout the skies, prompting Jacaerys to immediately look ahead. It was the familiar shriek of Vermax, his bonded dragon, who had grown exponentially. He was larger than Moondancer, with olive-colored scales and orange fins, eyes the color of a burnished gold.
“Māzigon, Vermax!” Jacaerys called, gaining the attention of his dragon as it began to approach, causing your heart to gallop within your chest. He looked at you with a hint of amusement, head canting to one side. “Would you like to see him?” Jace inquired, moving along the wall.
As majestic as dragons were, the wonder within your eyes had quickly shifted to wariness as it landed along the ramparts, rocks scraping underneath its talons. Vermax was much larger when in close proximity than he was flying overhead. “He is wonderful, Jace. Though, it is best if I keep my distance. He might not like me.”
Jacaerys laughed, amber-brown eyes sparkling with mirth. “Might not like you?” He mused, knowing that such a thought was outlandish. If he liked you, then Vermax most certainly would. A dragon could always pick apart friend from foe, and you were as far from an enemy as one could be.
“Yes, what — Jacaerys, that is a perfectly reasonable thing to say,” You countered, flustered by Jace’s reaction to your skepticism. His smile was cheery and heartfelt as he stared at you, and then offered his hand. “I do not think that this is a good idea.” A soft utterance emerged from under your breath.
“Trust me.” His tone softened exponentially, shifting from playful to gentle, reassuring. You hesitated before taking a hold of his hand, and Jacaerys nearly brushed his thumb across your knuckles out of sheer instinct. Whatever thoughts he had, he pushed them to the far recesses of his mind.
You trusted Jacaerys more than most, prompting you to nod as he ushered you closer to Vermax. His grasp was tender, as to not frighten you, which only made your heart flutter with affection. The dragon bristled and made a series of noises, some more serpentine than others.
Vermax lowered his head, pushing closer towards his rider as the dragon bowed to Jacaerys. You were close enough to feel the waves of heat wafting from his breath, close enough to outstretch your arm and feel his scales beneath your palm.
The scent of brimstone and dragonscale lingered upon Vermax, like a crackling fire and smoke. You watched with bated breath as Jace’s palm moved to Vermax’s snout, digits tracing along the olive-hued scales, and down toward his jaw. “Sagon iēdrosa,” Jace murmured, stepping closer to his dragon. “Sȳz.”
High Valyrian was an exquisite language, a beautiful symphony from an ancient era. Jacaerys had become proficient in such a tongue, and the way he spoke it had you mesmerized. With a gentle smile, he still held your hand, gesturing toward Vermax.
“What are you saying to him?” You inquired, losing some of your fear. It gradually waned the closer Jacaerys had inched you toward the dragon, who showed no ill will towards you at all. Instead, Vermax’s burnished hues glimmered with intrigue — you were a familiar scent, emblazoned upon Jace, but not a familiar face.
“I told him to be still for you,” Jacaerys replied, fingers flexing around your own as he carefully guided you toward Vermax’s neck, where the scales began to flare and thicken. Olive turned to emerald in some places, verdant shades clashing together. “Place your hand here.”
Your breath hitched within your throat as Jace became in close proximity to you, closer than he’d been before. His grasp was a tender one, placing your palm atop the dragon’s throat. Warmth crept along the length of your spine, filling your belly with an eruption of butterflies.
You made the mistake of glancing at Jacaerys for the briefest moment, able to spot the rosy flush of color within his visage and the gleam within his stare. As soon as you’d made contact, he happened to glance away, making a soft noise as it stirred within his throat.
Vermax chortled, the dragon’s attention fixated upon you as you brushed your fingers across his scales. Jace had dropped your hand, realizing the sliver of space between you both as he stepped aside, content to observe you with his dragon.
It was your enchanting laughter that lifted his spirits, the gentle way in which you stroked across Vermax’s neck and shoulder. “He is beautiful,” You hummed, countenance bright with a joyous radiance as you looked at Jacaerys once more. The gap between you had grown, much to your dismay. “How do you say that in High Valyrian?”
Jace hesitated, lips parting just slightly. His heart nearly skipped a beat when you smiled at him, expectant and awaiting his answer. He became so easily distracted in your presence, and it was somewhat vexing to behold. “Gevie,” He replied, briefly clearing his throat. “Gevie means beautiful, in High Valyrian.”
With a soft hum, you looked to Vermax, your grin toothy and amused. “Gevie, Vermax.” You spoke clearly, but the dragon did not seem to understand what you said — it wasn’t a command. Instead, he let out a series of reptilian noises, nostrils flaring with snort, almost like that of a horse.
Vermax’s lack of reaction made you frown, but Jacaerys appeared amused by it, at least. “Gevie isn’t a command,” He mused, head canting to one side. “Your High Valyrian needs improvement.” His tone was jocular, teasing — it made your heart stir within your chest.
“Fortunately, I have the perfect teacher standing before me.” You countered with a giggle, noticing the way in which a shade of pink settled into his features. Jacaerys was beautiful and handsome, but his flustered behavior only made him more perfect to you.
The dragon shook its head, seeking the embrace of his rider before he began to take flight. A massive gust of wind from the flap of his wings nearly knocked you down, causing you to crouch and grip the stone of the ramparts.
Jacaerys smiled, watching as Vermax ascended, taking to the skies above Dragonstone once more. You watched with a semblance of awe, slowly rising to your feet as the dragon became a mere specter amidst the cloudless sky. He did not stray too far, circling around with the likes of Moondancer and Syrax.
“Someday, I will take you flying with me,” Jace suggested, nose wrinkling slightly at your bewildered expression. “I would keep you safe.” He reassured you before words could emerge from your mouth, his chuckle amicable as he led you back toward the gates of Dragonstone.
“I trust you, but flying?” To see the world from such great heights sounded wonderful, but you feared the fall — and you feared the unknown of it all even more. “That might take more convincing than this did.” You mused, walking alongside him as the gates became closer.
A huff escaped him, hand dropping from the pommel of his shortsword to his side, a symbol of letting his guard down. A comfortable silence settled between the both of you, occasionally accompanied by a brief bout of laughter or tender smiles.
As the gates loomed over the both of you, Jacaerys hesitated, deliberating on what to say next. There were so many things he wanted to say to you — where did he begin? The nerves of first affection grabbed hold of him, but he remained resistant, wanting nothing more than to tell you how much you meant to him.
“Perhaps an exchange is in-order,” Jacaerys began, shifting his weight from one foot to the next. “You come flying with me, and I will teach you High Valyrian.” He mused, smothering his grin at your expression. You were clearly wary and unimpressed.
“Danger for something that I could learn in the comfort of a book? I think not, your Grace.” With a grin of your own, Jace happened to snicker, his visage invoking an unspoken challenge, albeit playful. “If I am ever feeling bold and spontaneous, I will inform you as soon as possible.”
Jacaerys hummed, head ducking for just a moment before he met your gaze again, doting and overflowing with a subtle warmth. “Thank you for this,” He began, tone heartfelt and genuine. “I would not know what to do if it weren’t for your company and comfort. I’ve found it difficult to remain jovial as of late, but it’s rather effortless in your presence.”
His genial compliments made your stomach turn with excitement, and you could soar away. Jacaerys would be an excellent ruler, should he take the Iron Throne — such grace, compassion, and gallantry were true hallmarks of what would make a good King. You felt the familiar, smitten flush dance along your skin.
“Of course, Jace — you never have to ask for it,” Your fingers twisted into the silk of your gown, an outlet for your growing nerves. “You’ve no idea how much your company means to me. We will get through this together, that much I know.” With a brief nod, you felt his stare grow in intensity.
Before he could bear his heart to you on a whim, the gates opened, revealing several Targaryen bannermen and Kingsguard. It was sudden and somewhat jarring, placing the two of you back within reality — in a realm on the brink of war.
“I should return to your mother, I fear I’ve neglected my duties enough today,” You murmured, offering Jace a kindly smile before dropping to curtsy. He seemed starstruck, as if caught within the depths of his own thoughts. “Good afternoon, your Grace.”
Formalities reappeared again, much to his disdain. He loved it when you called him Jace or Jacaerys, or your Grace whenever you teased him. To hear it used in the context of nobility made him feel distant, but he understood. You possessed a strong sense of propriety.
“My Lady.” Jace replied, watching as you took your leave to rejoin the other handmaidens and guardsmen. Jacaerys cursed himself for not making the most of the moment, but he knew that he could make his own opportunity, forge it if it never came about.
He intended to do just that.
𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐀𝐓 𝐃𝐔𝐒𝐊 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐋, with braziers dancing across the obsidian interior. Stars sparkled above a clear night sky, dragons dancing above. It was almost like something from a fairytale or a painting, mesmerizing to behold as you gazed up at the scaling ceiling of your bedchambers.
Your quarters were small and homely, befitting of your status as lady-in-waiting. Rhaenyra had ensured that your lodgings and that of your father were enough — more than suitable, really. The feathered mattress you slept upon was made for royalty, you thought.
The constant flicker of candlelight provided a source of warmth as you rolled over within your bed, blankets hauled up beneath your chin. It was too early to fall asleep, too late to do anything of substance.
A knock at your door gave you pause, brows furrowing together as you retrieved your robe, lacing it around the sheer gossamer of your nightgown. Bare feet traveled across the cold stone, until you reached the metal hoop slotted atop mahogany.
With a pull, you opened the door, surprised to find Jacaerys, who had abandoned his traditional Targaryen regalia, hands occupied with a stack of various tomes and scrolls. His mop of dark curls framed his face, and even he seemed just as bewildered as you were.
“Jacaerys,” His nightly visits were rather uncommon — in fact, this was only the second time he’d come, the first following Lucerys’s passing. You swallowed the growing lump within your throat, stepping aside to allow him inside of your chambers. “Is everything alright?”
Jace placed the stack of books atop the table that sat amongst small lounge chairs, ensuring to clear his throat before he spoke. “Of course,” He replied, gesturing toward your newfound reading material. “I’ve brought you scripts to learn High Valyrian.”
You blinked, touched by such a thoughtful gesture. You smoothed your palms across your robe, stepping forward to inspect the books, many of which appeared ancient and weathered. “You didn’t have to,” You replied, head canting to one side. “Many of these seem important. Are you sure that no one will miss these?”
A brief chuckle escaped him before he shook his head. “The Maesters might, but they’ve read them a hundred times over, I’m certain of it. You will find more use.” He replied, retreating toward the threshold of your chambers. Jacaerys wanted to keep his visit brief — visiting a young woman’s quarters in the dead of night was not exactly an intelligent move.
“You’re leaving so soon?” Your inquiry held a twinge of disappointment, hoping that he would stay and converse with you, at the very least. “Jacaerys, I assure you that no one will admonish you if you stay for a few minutes longer.” The softness of your voice enticed him, and he very nearly confessed then and there.
The weight of growing sentiments felt as if they would swallow him whole if he did not speak them into fruition. With the threat of a looming war and the potential for oblivion, Jacaerys was unsure of what gave him pause. The fear of rejection, perhaps? That wasn’t it.
It took a moment for you to adjust, and when you did, you noted his own attire — a billowy tunic and dark trousers that happened to make him appear softer in the candlelight. The sharp black and crimson of his house’s colors made him intimidating and poised, but no longer.
You saw Jacaerys himself, doe-eyed and magnificent.
“I fear what will happen if I stay,” Jacaerys confessed, squaring himself with the door. If he continued to linger in your chambers without restraint or without additional eyes, he knew what would happen — he did not want to sully your honor. “I won’t.”
“Jacaerys,” You whispered, brows furrowing together to form a look of confusion and startlement. Out of concern, you stepped closer, abandoning the scripts of High Valyrian now scattered across your table. “What’s wrong? I don’t understand.”
The inner war he waged within seemed to reflect upon his countenance, as Jacaerys exhaled — it was laced with stress, a heaviness that you struggled to understand. He seemed flustered, not wanting to meet your amiable gaze. “It is best if I leave it alone.” He replied, taking a hold of your hands. “I would not tarnish your honor.”
That is what he meant.
Something boiled over inside of you, the butterflies and blossoming affection turning into a tidal wave that threatened to swallow you whole. As Jace held your hands, he seemed desperate to convey such a message — whatever he wanted, he could not have.
A brief exhale escaped you before you steeled yourself, thumbs brushing across his knuckles, over the veins of his hands. “You wouldn’t tarnish it,” You whispered, stomach churning with molten heat. “I know that you wouldn’t, Jace. I trust you the most.”
Jacaerys felt the stirring within his chest, the first inkling of arousal settling into his very bones. It was somewhat foreign — a new feeling, but exciting and exhilarating. “I would never hurt you,” He insisted, and you believed him wholeheartedly. “What I feel for you, I do not wish to feel this way with anyone else.”
If you could’ve collapsed then and there, you would’ve — you thought it would happen, with the way your knees rattled together beneath your nightgown. The beating of your heart accelerated into a violent crescendo, and then you felt the rush — the love you had for him, desire, admiration, neediness.
A tenuous silence drifted between you both, the tension thick enough to be sliced with a blade. Jacaerys had inched closer without thinking, able to peer down into your eyes, swirling with affection and bewilderment. “If I told you I felt the same?” Your voice barely rose above a whisper.
Deliberately, Jacaerys released one of your hands, allowing his palm to fully envelop your face, the pad of his thumb caressing your cheekbone. “I would never difile your virtue, or take it for granted. You must tell me if this is something you want.” He insisted, jaw tightening as he anxiously awaited your answer.
You knew that he wouldn’t — Jacaerys Velaryon was the most honorable man you knew, one that would never lay a finger upon you unless you consented. You couldn’t imagine a return to friendship if you happened to reject him — you didn’t want to reject him, either.
“I do,” A shudder ran down your spine, bringing a wave of thrill and anticipation with it. “I want this — and I want you, Jacaerys, if you’ll have me.” Part of you became nervous, knowing that you had never bedded a man before, but you pushed the thought aside.
“A hundred times over.” Jace uttered, dipping down to press his lips against yours. The kiss was incredibly sweet and delicate, something brief to test the waters as the two of you began to explore uncharted territory. Your hands reached for his chest, flat atop his sternum.
Allowing the kiss to linger, you tilted your head just slightly, enough to permit a sensual progression. He kissed you so sweetly, treated you as if you were precious, something to be worshiped. When he inevitably pulled away, you felt a twinge of nervousness.
“I’ve never done anything like this before,” Your confession was a strenuous one, and you hoped that he wouldn’t be disappointed by your lack of experience. Most men already had a plethora by the time betrothals and first love emerged. “Is that alright?”
“Of course,” Jacaerys reassured you with a gentle squeeze, brows furrowing together with insistence. He hesitated, somewhat sheepish to admit the very same, but he knew you wouldn’t admonish him for it. “I haven’t either, if that’s alright.” He mused, the corner of his mouth twitching into a smile.
A sweet bout of laughter escaped you before you nodded several times over, unable to keep from withholding your happiness. “I suppose that this will be quite the learning experience.” You felt his thumb stroke along your jaw, his lips molding themselves to yours in another kiss.
Passion and tension began to mount, a continuous climb of affection, prepared to turn into something fiery. Jacaerys worried that he would disappoint you, or perhaps feel clumsy and awkward, but those were mere insecurities — he knew that you wouldn’t hold it against him.
One of his hands dropped, finding the pliant curve of your hip as he sank his digits into you, able to haul you closer, until there was no space left between the two of you. Kissing felt effortless with Jace, despite your inexperience — he was gentle and deliberate, ensuring that he took his time with you above all else.
Your fingers wandered from his chest to his broad shoulders, finding the curls of hair at the nape of his neck. Jacaerys exhaled, a shiver rolling down his spine as you began to gently tug at his tresses. He canted his head slightly, enough to deepen the kiss and hold you close.
It was Jace who slowly broke the kiss, but just enough to speak, warm breath fanning across your face. “May I take you to bed?” He murmured, tracing across the silky plane of your jaw. His excitement began to grow, heart hammering within his chest.
In such close quarters to one another, you noticed the faint dusting of freckles along the bridge of his nose, spreading just underneath his eyes. You pressed a kiss against the corner of his mouth. “You may.” Eagerness replaced any nervousness you were experiencing, then and there.
Jacaerys found your hand, twining his digits with your own as the two of you inched toward your bed. It was plush, lined with furs and enough blankets to warm the Seven Kingdoms. He stood at the precipice of a cliff, preparing to dive headfirst — and it felt incredible.
He watched with bated breath, rapturous and enamored as your digits settled along the many ties of your outer robes. You began the sluggish process of untethering each one until the garment loosened, enough for you to shrug it aside and drape it over the chest at the foot of your bed.
Even with the veil of sheer, silky fabric, Jacaerys quietly admired your physique, shapely and beautiful in every way imaginable. “You are perfect,” Jace uttered, hands coming to settle around your hips, searching for any sign of hesitation on your end. “Beautiful.” He exhaled, feeling you coax him in for another kiss.
Through the slip of silk and gossamer, Jacaerys deftly felt his way along your body, taking his time savoring you. Every curve and dip, every little detail he committed to memory, lost within a sea of you. Your kiss became passionate, and he was more than happy to reciprocate, the intensity burning between you both.
Jace felt your fingers tease the hem of his tunic, enough to elicit a subtle gasp from him. The sensation of your flesh against his caused goosebumps to spread from where your digits brushed against his waist. He released you for a moment, long enough for him to assist you in removing his nightshirt.
A pang of admiration struck at your stomach, breath hitching within your throat. He was pretty — well-muscled for a young man, with sunkissed skin, smatterings of freckles along his shoulders. Jacaerys felt your lips press against the hollow of his throat, warmth fanning out from the simple contact.
“I want to take care of you, if you’ll let me.” Jace murmured, insistent on pleasuring you above all else. He knew very little of what ensued between a woman and a man within the confines of their bedchambers outside of the simple act itself, but it was easy to imagine.
Your lips parted, heat sinking into your bones as you reached for his curled tresses, digits slipping through his soft, dark locks. “Yes”, Your voice was barely above a whisper as you coaxed him in for another kiss, one charged with arousal and desire. “I want you, Jace.”
The heady, wanton way in which you spoke his name caused him to shiver, bare chest pressed snugly against your own. Even the veil of silken fabric could not hide your supple frame from him, the peaks of your breasts soft and pliant.
His kiss was so gentle — it was charged with lust despite its tame nature, not that you minded. You felt his hands fall to your hips, melding into your curves before he began to gather the fabric within his hands. Jacaerys looked to you before continuing, and you gave him a nod to signal your approval.
Silky gossamer slowly crawled up the length of your legs as Jace gathered your gown, sliding it upward. You couldn’t fight against the onslaught of molten heat that churned violently within your stomach, shamelessly pooling between your legs.
Jacaerys hesitated, likely thinking of what to do next. He had been educated on what consummation was, the act of making an heir — but there was more to it, more of you to explore. Curiosity consumed him as he placed his palm atop the bare skin of your thigh, using the other to ease you down onto your bed.
He sat beside you, leg to leg as he continued to push your nightgown up toward your hips, skirts gathering around the middle of your thighs. “May I?” Jace’s voice seemed to grow husky with arousal, desire burning its way through his veins.
Instead, you gingerly took a hold of his hand, guiding it underneath your gown as you parted your legs enough to allow him unhindered access. He caressed you wherever he could, shuddering when you held the trail of your nightgown in one hand to push it up around your hips.
You nearly squeaked when his palm brushed along your inner thigh, lips parting with a sharp exhale. Jace moved closer, as close as he could as his mouth graced your neck, digits inching toward the slick heat between your legs. When he found it, you let out a simpering whine, reaching for his forearm.
A hushed moan escaped you as two digits trailed across your cunt, exploratory and feather-light. Your hips canted forward into the sensation, desiring more — and Jace obliged, pushing both fingers inward until they slipped past your folds.
“Jace,” You whispered, eyes fluttering shut as he continued to pepper strings of sweet kisses along your neck, gown sagging enough to let him kiss your shoulder. “Do not stop, please.” That breathy plea exuded some power over him, and he was enthralled, prepared to do whatever you asked of him.
“Is that alright?” Jacaerys asked, digits becoming a touch more vigorous as he stroked at your slit, surprised at how wet you were. If it were a common thing, he would know what to expect in the future. His thumb grazed your clit, and you gasped.
With a soft hum of approval, you nodded, shifting your legs apart just a little more. “Y—Yes,” Absentmindedly, your fingers slipped from the taut muscle of his forearm to his hand, the one wedged underneath your gown. “I — Like this.” You instructed him to touch you how you had touched yourself.
Jacaerys watched through a half-lidded stare, beyond entranced with you. You were beautiful — so painfully ethereal that it made him want to kneel before you, a goddess made to be worshiped. You adjusted his fingers, ensuring that his thumb pressed against your clit with continuous pressure.
Despite his nonexistent experience, he was doing wonders for you — he was attentive and willing to learn your body as you saw fit. He was so handsome, lips curling into an affectionate smile before he kissed your jaw, digits continuing from where they’d left off.
Your palm fell across his thigh, nails beginning to dig themselves into the muscle there as he touched your clit, digits tracing around the rest of your cunt. The candlelight highlighted his features in such perfect detail, the illumination slight.
Reverence seeped into each action, every stroke of his fingers evoking a string of whimpers from you. He was passionate and careful, willing to learn your body better than you. He continued to caress your clit, the sensation sending jolts of electricity throughout your body.
His name became your prayer, devolving into desperate moans and whispered pleas as you rocked your hips into the sensation of his hand. “Jacaerys,” You sighed with passion, feeling the stirring within your stomach. Arousal consumed every part of you, just as it did him. “Jace.”
The dark-haired Prince let out a soft groan into the hollow of your throat, wanting you more than anything, and the hand you had perched atop his thigh did little to ease the fever. He kissed your neck again, scarlet-faced and beyond eager, whispering sweet nothings in High Valyrian against your skin.
Excitement and the heat of the moment seemed to get to you, as you used one hand to sloppily unlace the leather ties of his trousers. You wanted to touch him too, let him feel exactly how you felt — how he made you feel.
Jace shivered, not objecting, but he wanted to focus on you above all else. “What about you?” He asked, feeling his cock twitch with want. The ache he had for you was almost painful, threatening to tear him apart if he couldn’t find relief.
“Together,” You suggested, turning enough to crawl into his lap, much to his delight. Jacaerys held you steady, lips clamoring together in a messy flurry of tongue and adoration. It was the anticipation of youth — the desire and sentiments overrode everything else, made duty disappear. “You are perfect.”
His brief smile made all of your worry dissipate, fading into mere background noise. Your hands returned to the leather ties of his breeches once more, sluggishly loosening them. Jace steeled himself, a fire burning within his belly as you reached down.
A low, satisfied groan tore past his lips when your hand gently wrapped around his cock, searching his visage for any sign of discomfort. There was none — only desire, lust festering within his gaze. He resumed touching you, digits circling your clit once more.
Within your delicate grasp, his length hardened, your palm finding a careful rhythm. Your hips twitched, rolling into the sensation of his hand. It was heavenly — the way in which he handled you was gallant and gentle. Arousal continued to gather between your thighs, a new and sticky feeling.
Intermingled gasps and groans filled the air, the both of you clinging to one another. Jacaerys leaned forward, mouth seeking yours, the kiss hot and gentle. Between your careful, uncertain strokes along his length and his digits teasing your cunt, the both of you were lost within the throes of passion.
He slipped his other hand underneath your nightgown, with enough leverage to remove it, if he so desired. Jacaerys broke the kiss long enough to ask, chest heaving with heavier breaths. “May I?” He whispered, voice husky and hoarse with lust.
You nodded, maneuvering your arms over your head as your nightgown slipped to the floor, leaving you bare before Jacaerys. The saltwater breeze which fluttered through your quarters left you shivering, both from the brief chill and anticipation.
The awestruck way in which he stared at you left you hot, body feverish beneath his tempered gaze. He kissed your collarbone, eyes warm and affectionate. “You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.” He stated, nearly breathless. His heart was yours — every fiber of his being devoted itself to you.
Smitten beneath his sweetly-spoken compliments, you trailed your fingers throughout his soft curls. The other slyly descended to reach for his cock again, but Jacaerys seemed to place your hand aside. You seemed confused, head canting to one side. “Do you not like it?”
His bemused chuckle filled your chambers, amiable and as warm as a cozy hearth. “Of course I like it,” Jacaerys murmured, kissing along your jaw and neck, holding you as close as he could. “I’d like to focus on you. There’s something that I wanted to try, if you’ll allow it.”
Surprised, you seemed open to whatever he wanted to try. “Anything you want, you will have. It’s yours.” You expected him to put you on your knees or turn you on your stomach. Instead, he coaxed you down onto your back, getting you to lay down as he crawled between your parted legs.
His mouth pressed a string of affectionate kisses along your shoulder and collarbone, beginning to dip lower toward the perky swell of your breasts. You squirmed slightly, uncertain of where this would lead to. You trusted Jace to follow his own instinct.
Your back arched when his mouth graced your breast, pressing kisses all around the pliant flesh. A moan escaped you, signaling your pleasure as he wrapped his lips around one of your nipples, gingerly suckling on the pebbled bud.
“Jace,” You squeaked, one hand flying to his mountain of dark curls, pushing your fingers through. He touched you in a way that evoked a sense of yearning, as if you were the only woman in the realm. His hand kneaded into your chest, a shiver coursing through him whenever you moaned his name. “Please.”
Heat simmered through him, a wave of desire that only seemed to grow in intensity, demanding to be extinguished. Your flesh tasted saccharine upon his tongue, but there was something else he wanted to taste. As he kissed your chest, he released his lips from your breast, continuing his descent.
He kissed you everywhere, reverence seeping into each brush of his mouth as he traversed your body. Jacaerys pressed his lips against your stomach, and then to your hips, palms sliding against your thighs.
A sharp exhale escaped you as he peppered a string of kisses along the inside of your thigh, showering you in little pecks of affection before he flattened himself entirely. You swallowed the lump within your throat; the sight of Jace’s face wedged in between your legs made you shiver, arousal following suit.
Everything was gentle, even the way in which his veined hands gripped the pliant flesh of your thighs to let them rest against his shoulders. He hesitated, allowing you a moment to adjust and steel yourself before he dipped forward, tongue raking hot embers across your cunt.
The singular, experimental stroke of his tongue caused you to shiver, hands curling into fists. If you could melt away into your furs, you would’ve, feeling his mouth press kisses against your core. “Jace,” You whined, attempting to hold still and cease your squirming. “Don’t stop.”
It was all the encouragement he truly needed, digits soothingly caressing along your thighs as he began to lap at your cunt, adopting a pace that was a little less sluggish. He nearly groaned when he felt your hand grasp at his curled tresses, sinking in toward the base of his skull.
In the nighttime gloom of Dragonstone, you found warmth and comfort in one another — affections intensified, and whatever bond you had before was now redefined entirely. Jacaerys loved you, he had never been more sure of himself until now, dutifully bringing about your pleasure.
A myriad of soft whimpers and whines escaped you, hand gingerly tugging on Jace’s hair as he buried his mouth in the apex of your thighs. His tongue vigorously lapped and traced over your core, savoring your taste, committing it to memory. Bathed in moonlight, Jace appeared more ethereal than ever, the muscles flexing within his back.
With slow, eager laps of his tongue, Jacaerys made sure to savor you, letting it flick across your clit. The short, dizzying gasp that tore past your mouth spurred him on, as he pressed another string of kisses against your slit. The continued sensation of your digits carding through his curls made him sigh with elation.
He brought you closer, heart leaping into his throat when you began to writhe beneath him, hips tilting forward into each stroke of his mouth. “You’re perfect,” Jacaerys whispered, ensuring that you could hear it. Soft utterances of High Valyrian were etched into the flesh of your thigh. “Perfect.”
Blossoming beneath his sweet compliments, your fingers curled against his scalp, unable to lay still as Jace resumed his previous ministrations. The warmth of his tongue left you with a blistering want, stomach churning with a wave of arousal.
As he lapped at your clit again, you whimpered, moaning his name as if to keep his attention there. Jacaerys’s tender expression also bore a great deal of concentration, dark eyes flickering toward you. “There?” He uttered, hoping that you would guide him to where he needed to be.
Your head bobbed up and down against the furs, flesh beginning to glisten with the first inklings of perspiration. Everything felt feverishly hot, as if you would be turned to ash where you sat. Jacaerys was attentive and loving, following your breathy plea as he pursed his lips around the pearl of your cunt.
Jace shivered at the sounds you made, enticed by each whimper and moan, every twitch of your body. He suckled on the sensitive bundle of nerves, alternating between that and greedy, vigorous laps of his tongue. He let himself be lost within bliss, arousal mounting from pleasuring you.
You reached for his hand, fingers interlocking atop the swell of your hip as he continued to lap at your aching core. He squeezed your hand as a sign of reassurance, buried deep within your sweet cunt, something that he wanted to have again and again.
He was at your mercy, the heir to the Iron Throne, the Prince of Dragonstone — and you hadn’t the slightest clue. Jace’s brow creased in concentration as he focused on what spots made you squirm the most, continuing to dutifully lap at your clit until your knees trembled.
“Jace,” A needy moan left you, reverberating within the obsidian confines of your chambers. Arousal rushed through you, molten heat oozing from between your thighs, a nectar as sweet as honey. “I—I think I’m close.” You groaned, unsure if it was just the throes of ecstasy or reality.
Nevertheless, you were on the verge of reaching your peak, and you didn’t want him to stop. Instead, you urged his head forward, fingers laced within his dark curls, right at the nape of his neck. Jacaerys groaned in delight, thoroughly enjoying the way you continued to coax him inward — he happily devoured every drop.
With another barrage of his tongue assaulting your cunt, you whimpered, turning malleable within Jace’s hands. He knew that you were on the verge, and so he pursed his lips around your clit once more, and that was more than enough.
His name emerged from your lips like a reverent prayer, the only name that you knew in that moment. Your release was hot, like a rush of fire that didn’t simmer immediately. The residual sensation lingered, and Jace helped you through it.
Your thighs twitched, absentmindedly attempting to clench together, but Jace held you apart, soothing you with kisses along your thighs. The blissful, contented expression that soon followed was a beautiful one — Jace was shocked to know that he could do that to you, bring you to ruin.
His gallant smile gave you pause as you studied the rosy flush within his features, the glistening sheen of your arousal upon his lips. Jacaerys seemed entirely unphased, basking in your aftermath all the same, his curls tousled and disheveled.
“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” Your tone was sheepish, realizing how much you’d tugged at his hair. If it were you, a tender-headed maiden, you would’ve been batting his hand away. Jace’s bemused chuckle caused you to duck your head.
Jace disarmed you with a charming, doting smile and a simple look of those earthen-brown eyes of his, and shook his head. “You could never hurt me,” He replied, his attempt at gentle flirtation. “I worry more for you.” His confession was soft-spoken.
The act of consummation was not intended to be a comfortable one — for a woman, at least. Jacaerys knew to broach this with care, to make sure that you were well enough before all else. He inched forward from between your thighs, resting his head atop your stomach.
He allowed you a moment of composure, feeling your digits trace the lines of his countenance, stroke at his tresses. Jace pressed a string of kisses all around your body, wherever his lips could reach. The moment was incredibly tender, lingering with the tension of a blossoming ardor.
Through the comfortable haze of silence, you cleared your throat, staring down at Jacaerys with what only could be described at a look of complete and utter adoration. He was so kind, so noble and gentle, yet with the fervor of the dragon’s blood, a desire to do good. You felt so fortunate, even moreso when he smiled at you, pressing a kiss to your hip.
“I want you, Jacaerys,” You whispered, watching as Jace began to sit up, letting your legs trap him on either side. “More than I’ve ever wanted anyone else.” It was the hitch within his throat that made you shiver, heart hammering beneath your breast as you began to confess your feelings — it was inevitable.
Jace reveled at the sight of you, naked and glimmering within the moonlit dusk, candlelight bathing your physique in shades of flickering orange. His descent was slow as he covered you with his body, lips parting to allow a shaky exhale before he kissed your brow. “You have my heart,” He uttered, forehead resting against yours. “Everything I am, is yours.”
Your palms moved to cup either side of his face, thumbs caressing along his cheekbones before you smiled, kissing the corner of his mouth. “I am yours.” You assured, your commitment resolute before the Gods — before Jacaerys Velaryon.
It was a poignant moment, one that seemed intermingled with the seriousness of your words, yet still tinged with the youthful excitement of a first love. He kissed you, slow and amorous, full of an unrestrained affection that no longer seemed weighed-down by unspoken sentiments.
“Are you certain that this is what you want?” Jace asked, his voice a soft caress through your haze of kisses. He would not fault you if you wanted to stop now — and he would if you wished it of him. As much as he desired you, he valued your virtue above his own.
“Yes,” You replied, your palms gliding from his soft visage to the taut muscle of his shoulders, lacing your fingers around the back of his neck. “Are you certain, too? I worry that you might regret lying with me.”
Jacaerys shook his head, brows furrowing together to reflect a semblance of disbelief. He reached down to caress your cheek, making sure that you understood every word. “Nothing in the world would ever make me regret this,” He murmured. “I’ve never been more certain about anything before.”
A brief stirring of adoration fluttered within your chest, and you knew that you wanted no one else ever again. You pulled yourself off of the mattress enough to kiss him, sinking into the sweet bliss of the moment as he reciprocated. His mouth moved in-tandem with yours, eyes beginning to flutter shut.
His hands planted themselves into the feathered pillow on either side of your head, but it didn’t last long. Jacaerys leaned back, maneuvering out of the leather of his trousers, flush against you once they were removed. You were so soft, like an ocean of silk beneath him.
He felt one of your legs hitch around his hips, bodies together beneath the furs. The chill of your chambers dissipated, replaced by the warmth of your skin. You kept your hands poised against his shoulders, dancing across the smattering of freckles there as you continued to kiss him, as if each one would be your last.
The hardened swell of his cock pressed against your lower stomach, and you could feel his breath grow heavier between kisses. He was perfect — flawless, so handsome that it made you ache with want.
Jace kissed you again and again, feeling the soft peaks of your breasts brush against his chest. He adjusted his weight, shifted his hips as he pressed the head of his length against your slick cunt. He was somewhat nervous — perhaps not as much as you, but anxious enough. He made sure to be careful, feeling your legs nudge themselves apart.
A look of mutual preparedness passed between you both, between your doe-eyed gaze of anticipation and Jace’s mounting look of want, there was little room left for uncertainty. He sat up enough to position himself against your aching core, his cock splitting past your folds before it prodded at your entrance.
You steeled yourself, and Jace made sure to be slow, afraid of hurting you enough to cause true discomfort. As he tilted forward, his length filled you, sheathing himself inside of you, inch by inch. Admittedly, it wasn’t a good feeling — not initially, anyway.
A sharp exhale escaped you as he bottomed out, staying still atop you as he allowed you time to grow accustomed to him. Waves of complete and utter bliss rolled through him, his own pleasure nearly overwhelming. You were tight, maidenhead intact for the next few moments until he began to move.
“Are you alright?” Jace whispered around the shell of your ear, pressing against you once more as he reassuringly kissed along the side of your face. He felt despicable for causing you any amount of pain, but you seemed to dismiss his concern.
“I am,” You placated him with a smile, coaxing him in for a kiss. It was best if you didn’t think about it — and with time, it would feel better. Everything was awkward and clumsy, the follies of youth, but as Jace began to move, a fire began to burn within your belly. “Jace.” You sighed, keeping your leg around his hips.
A soft groan resonated beside your ear as Jace adopted a sluggish rhythm, not wanting to intensify things so quickly. Your eyes fluttered shut, body content to bend to his thrusts, grow accustomed to the act itself. He reciprocated your kiss, black curls falling in front of his temples.
Bliss soon replaced discomfort, the more you allowed yourself to adjust. You shifted your legs further apart, one hand falling toward his bicep, the other remaining tangled at the nape of his neck. The sounds of your lovemaking soon filled your chambers, with your foreheads pressed together.
Your name fell from his tongue in a needy groan, and it made you shiver, body reacting with a barrage of gooseflesh along your spine. Perspiration grew upon his brow as he maintained his pace, digits curling into the furs on either side of you.
The sound of your pleasured moans made him feel better, a sign that you were no longer riddled with soreness and irritation. Jace pressed a trail of hot, messy kisses along your face, reaching to the sweet spot beneath your jaw. He kept himself anchored there, feeling your hand squeeze at his bicep.
“Jace!” You squeaked, flushed at the growing lewdness of the noises — the squelching, the passionate groans and heavy breathing. He was perfect, cock filling you in a way that left you completely satisfied. Jace felt your hand fall away from his bicep, reaching for his own, interlocked hands falling back against the cushions.
He shuddered, reveling in the way your cunt tightened around him, the sensation of your hand within his hair, hands joined at your side. Jace’s pace began to quicken, but only somewhat, enough to really feel the myriad of pleasure take hold.
You yearned for him in every way imaginable; your body ached with each movement, every thrust as he leisurely moved in and out of you. His cock pulsated with a dull throbbing, enough to fill his belly with a raging fire. He kissed you again, lips traversing wherever they saw fit, peppering every inch of your sweet skin.
Time seemed to move agonizingly slow in your presence — Jacaerys wouldn’t want it any other way. If he could capture this moment, he would’ve. Every moment was graced by a warm intimacy that sank into his very bones, his adoration for you furthered with each roll of his hips, sheathing himself inside of you.
His soft lips graced your collarbone, continuing to make love to you in the only way he knew how. It was passionate and gentle, in a way reserved for the deepest of lovers. Jace grunted when your hips involuntarily rolled upward to grind against him, lips parting as he squeezed your hand.
At last, he lifted his head, your eyes locking together. Your countenance was exceptionally beautiful, especially when painted with the shade of desire, and it had him aching with want. His jaw tensed when you brushed dark curls away from his eyes, palm lingering long enough to pull him down for a kiss.
His cock continued to hit your cunt with a tame fervor, filling you completely, testing your limits as he neared his peak. Jacaerys knew that there would be more moments like these in the future — his energy was waning, and perhaps, the unfamiliarity of it all contributed to this.
Your name spilled from his tongue, throat echoing with a soft groan as his pace became slightly erratic. It was difficult to control himself amidst chasing after his release, but he maintained what little composure he had, gritting his teeth together as he thrust into you again.
Pleasure contorted into ecstasy, becoming an unstoppable wave that was quick to take hold of him. Concentration intermingled with bliss were etched into his features, face pressing against yours, nearly breathless as you kissed him again.
With a groan, Jacaerys rocked forward again, spilling himself inside of you. In hindsight, it was both brazen and feckless, done in the heat of the moment, but he cared little of it for the time being. His cock throbbed, thrusting into you again a time or two before he stilled completely.
Heavy pants resonated between you both as you caught your breath, flush against one another in the aftermath. You pressed a kiss against Jace’s cheek, trailing your fingers throughout his hair. He was quick to kiss you, gathering his composure before he pulled himself out of you.
A rush of sticky warmth slathered the inside of your thighs, leaving behind a feeling of slight discomfort. Jace gathered a cloth for you to clean yourself with, returning to lay beside you as he rucked the furs up around your bodies. The air was colder at nightfall, injected with a saltwater mist.
“I apologize if I hurt you,” Jacaerys uttered, dark brows furrowing together as you wriggled closer, resting your head atop his bare chest. Your arm draped over him, allowing yourself to be close, a feeling that he wanted more than anything else. “It was not my intention.” He kissed the top of your head.
“You didn’t,” You replied, tracing soft patterns against his skin, angling your head up enough to kiss him. Jace cupped your jaw, leaning in to deepen the tender entanglement, lost within the bliss of your lips. “You would never hurt me.”
Jacaerys was fiercely protective over you, that much was true — even from himself. He kept an arm wrapped around you, cradling you at his side as he gazed into your eyes. He could see you, then — his beloved wife, the future Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. Perhaps it was too early to tell, but he knew.
As the both of you settled in together, your maidenhead now lost, you couldn’t help but smile. Jacaerys had made your first experience more than anyone ever could — you hoped that it would stay that way forever. “Does your offer of teaching High Valyrian still stand?” You mused.
A huff of amusement left Jacaerys as he turned his head enough to look at you, a smile playing at either corner of his mouth. “I thought you wanted those dusty old books.” Admittedly, his offering of those damned texts is what started this in the first place — he had to be grateful.
“I knew that you would be kind enough to bring them to me,” You confessed, nose wrinkling in amusement. “An excuse to see you.” The look on Jace’s face was one of theatrical shock, and you erupted into a fit of laughter when he squeezed your hip.
“You might grow tired of me, if I am to teach you High Valyrian.” Jacaerys mused, his smile one of complete and utter warmth. Anyone would know that his love for you was obvious — there wasn’t any subtlety about it.
You shook your head, comfortably sinking against him, your upper body lounging atop him. “I could never grow tired of you, Jacaerys Velaryon.” You exhaled, exhaustion beginning to grip you. It was bound to happen eventually, given the abnormally late hour.
Jace was thankful that you weren’t looking — his face was dusted with a rather obvious layer of pink, and yet, the feeling was beyond satisfying. The two of you allowed the silence to sink through, accompanied by the sound of the encroaching tide as it broke upon the jagged rock and cliff sides surrounding Dragonstone.
“Will you stay?” You asked, hoping that he would be agreeable to it. It was a risky proposition, but Jace knew that he couldn’t leave you after this — he didn’t want to, either. No one would come clamoring about within his chambers at first light.
“Of course,” He murmured, lips twitching into a sweet smile. “Though, I should go at the first light of dawn.” Jace’s tone was one of clear disappointment, but it was best to keep suspicions low. You knew that he had duties that transcended you — he was the Prince of Dragonstone, the heir — and you were not betrothed.
A sense of understanding settled onto your features, but you still wanted him by your side — you wished that you could wake up next to him. “I hope that dawn never comes, then.” You whispered, taking his hand within yours as you pressed a kiss against his palm, knowing that there would be many more dawns to come with him at your side.
copyright @ swordgrace; please do not translate, steal, or copy my works and post them onto other platforms or claim as your own.
#house of the dragon#hotd x reader#jacaerys velaryon x reader#jacaerys velaryon x you#jacaerys targaryen x reader#jacaerys targaryen x you#jacaerys x reader#jacaerys x you#house of the dragon fanfiction#house of the dragon smut#jacaerys velaryon#jacaerys targaryen#hotd smut#hotd fanfic
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"toru", you whisper in a slight panic, reaching out in an attempt to find your snowy haired boyfriend in the dark. you glance at the alarm clock which reads 6:32 in blaring red lights.
"toru," you say again, this time more urgently. your hands working to untangle the sheets around the both of you and shake him awake. your palms press against his cool skin as you give him a gentle push before violently shaking him.
"what the f- baby? whats goin' on?" he groans tiredly as he's jolted from his sleep. you take about half a second to swoon over his groggy, sleepy voice before another crash sounds from downstairs and you jump slightly, clinging to satoru.
"did you hear that?!"
he furrows his brows slightly and nods, smoothly unwrapping you from him and standing up.
"i'll go see what it is."
you nod and stand up as well.
"i'll come too."
"what? no- there could be a serial killer or something."
"whats a serial killer gonna do against you?"
"thats not the point-"
CRASH!
the both of you jump and grab the other one. carefully, satoru leads you both out and into the hallway. all is silent before a quiet gasp is heard followed by a hush and muted giggling.
you and satoru exchange a glance before creeping down the stairs and peering into the kitchen.
"megumi, you gotta be quiet," tsumiki whispers, "we'll wake gojo and y/n up!"
"you're the one who keeps dropping stuff!" megumi insists, a small pout on the little boy's face. he stands on his tip toes, peering over the top of the stove into the pan of... something.
you cock your head and try not to gag as the smell of whatever's in the pan hits you.
"do you think they'll like their breakfast in bed?" tsumiki asks with an excited smile on her face. her brother just shrugs and adds way too much salt to their concoction.
your boyfriend turns to you with a panicked expression and mouths 'breakfast?!' you elbow him softly and motion your head towards the stairs. you both creep back up to your bedroom with a soft sigh.
"i am not eating whatever the hell was on that stove."
you fix him with an icy glare.
"satoru gojo you will eat what those children have made for us and you will like it."
true to your word, an hour later when tsumiki proudly presented a tray of... breakfast , if you could call it that, with a sullen megumi in tow you both acted pleasantly surprised and choked down the food gratefully.
#i didnt know how to end this im ngl#satoru x reader#satoru x you#satoru x y/n#satoru fluff#gojo#gojo x reader#gojo x you#gojo x y/n#gojo fluff#jjk#jjk x reader#jjk x y/n#jjk x you#jjk fluff
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open wide | park seonghwa
pairing: park seonghwa x afab!reader
word count: 5.7K
summary: you start working at a restaurant and everything seems to be going well; you work hard, you made friends, and even when you mess up, your coworkers still have your back… except for the bartender, seonghwa.
warnings: 18+, minors do not interact, restaurant!au, bartender! and dom!seonghwa, enemies to lovers trope, HATE FUCK, oral (f and m receiving), pussy slapping, dick slapping, choking, hair pulling, edging, fingering, creampie, alcohol consumption, sex under the influence of alcohol (but both consenting), unprotected piv (WRAP IT UP BE SAFE), cumplay, dacryphilia, seonghwa is an asshole and reader is strangely attracted to it, degrading, reader gives switch vibes, VERY descriptive smut scene [i have no shame], seonghwa is HUNG, use of pet names (princess, baby, good girl, little/dirty slut), woosan allegations LMAO, lmk if i missed anything! also feat. server/work bestie!ryujin, server!wooyoung and san, food runner!mingi, and restaurant manager!hongjoong.
author’s note: me n my friend were talking about seonghwa and the thought of him *ahem* slapping his dick on ur face .. and it sent us into a spiral. i had to make dreams come true. thank u to @hausofmingi and T for being my beta-readers and for giving amazing feedback and ideas :-) this one goes out to all the restaurant girlies!
seonghwa was pissing you the fuck off.
working at a restaurant is already hard enough, but to have an enemy that you work with? it’s unbearable.
you were new to the industry when you started at the restaurant, and of course you got treated like you were stupid for the first few months. you almost expected it, since you had friends who worked at restaurants and they warned you that people will walk all over you for being “green.” you learned as fast as you could, making mistakes here and there. but eventually you felt as if you proved everyone there wrong; that you are a good server and you are hard working, despite your mistakes. you built a rapport with your coworkers, and they granted you grace when you needed it. everyone, except for him.
the bartender. god that fucking bartender. your manager hongjoong introduced you on your first day, and ever since you’ve been butting heads.
“this is seonghwa, our bartender,” hongjoong says, pointing out the black-haired man setting up the bar. “he’s been here since we opened, but he’s been in the industry for even longer.”
“oh, wow,” you exclaim, watching him splay out the non-slip mats around the bar.
“yeah, wow,” hongjoong laughs. “this guy can pour exactly an ounce of liquor without even looking. and he’s fast. you’ll learn a lot from him.”
the corner of seonghwa’s mouth quirks up in almost a smug way. he’s good and he knows it. with his legendary status came his cockiness.
“well i gotta grab some paperwork for you to finish up,” hongjoong says as heads to the back. “i’ll be back out in a sec.”
you stand by the bar, basically twiddling your thumbs. “it’s nice to meet you, i’m–"
“look, princess,” seonghwa interrupts. “as much as i love introducing myself to yet another newbie, i have more important things to do right now.”
and that was just the beginning, and not just for your newfound nickname.
the best way to sum up how he continues to treat you is from this one specific experience. you rang up drinks for your table, and you meant to put a vodka soda instead of a tequila soda. you noticed it right away so you immediately cancelled that order and rung it up correctly. you promptly went to the bar to tell seonghwa.
“hey, ignore that first ticket for the tequila soda, i sent a new ticket,” you called out. but when seonghwa turned, he had the drink already in his hand, looking like he was about to set it on the drink pass.
“oh.”
he grabbed the new ticket with his other hand, glanced at it briefly, looked at you, and then slammed the ticket onto the ticket spindle. he turned around and dumped the drink in the sink and started making the new drink.
“hey i’m sorry, it was a mistake,” you defended.
“yeah yeah, it’s fine, princess,” he said with an eye roll. he placed the new drink on the pass. you inspect his face, wondering if it really was fine. he scoffs and pushes the drink forward more. “just take your drink and go, it’s way too fucking busy to be standing around talking.”
maybe it wasn’t a big deal. maybe he was just in the weeds and was taking it out on you. that’s the thing about restaurants, when you’re in the middle of service and everyone’s running around, you kinda end up saying shit you don’t mean. it was never anything personal. you knew that because at the end of service, you’d finish up closing with your coworkers and have a shift beer, laughing it off like it didn’t happen. because it didn’t matter in the end, it was just a restaurant.
but seonghwa never joined. even tonight, when you, the other servers, and even the manager were sat around the bar having your drinks, he just quietly broke down the bar.
“hey seonghwa,” hongjoong calls after him. “don’t worry about the bar, i’ll take care of the rest of it. you guys had a really hard night. have your shift beer and chill.”
“no no, i’ve got it. i’m just gonna finish up and get out of here.” you watch him as he lifts up the floor mats and starts mopping the sticky floor. you turn to your coworker, ryujin, who’s sipping at her PBR.
“i think seonghwa hates me,” you say, just low enough under your other coworkers chatting.
“what?” she laughs. “no no, i don’t think so. he’s just kind of an asshole.”
you glance over at him as he’s wiping down the back counters. you turn back to her.
“i don’t know, he’s just always been kinda short with me.” you look down at your drink and fiddle with the tab. “i feel like he doesn’t really like me. i don’t know what i did.”
“listen,” ryujin starts, placing a hand on your shoulder. “he’s short with everyone. shit, i’ve been here like 2 years and i still know nothing about him. don’t worry about it. he’s just here for a check like everyone else.”
you watch as seonghwa starts to walk back to the kitchen, lifting his sweatshirt off of his form, and a sliver of skin peeks at the small of his back just below his t-shirt. you can’t look away until he’s out of your line of sight, and ryujin starts giggling next to you.
“wait a minute, do you like him or something?” ryujin whispers.
“no no!” you say. “it’s just—i feel like it’s easy for me to talk to everyone here. with him, he just brushes me off. and he started that stupid nickname. ‘princess’. it feels condescending.”
“well i don’t know,” ryujin shrugs. “i don’t think he likes to mix business with pleasure anyway, in any form.”
you nod and look to see seonghwa back at the register, counting the cash and pulling out tips. he walks over and hands each server their share of drink tips, leaving you last. you look up at him, but he doesn’t even look at you. he just places the money on the bar, and quickly turns to go back to the kitchen.
“okay,” you sigh. “well i’m gonna get out of here, i gotta get some sleep. are we still on for sunday celebration?”
“um yeah dude. i’m gonna need it after we deal with the sunday service crowd.” ryujin grabs her bag and starts heading to the door with you.
“sunday celebration.” it’s kind of like a fucked-up weekly tradition your restaurant has. the weekend drives all of the staff mad and then after service sunday night, (since the restaurant is closed on mondays) pretty much everyone working grabs a shift drink and books it to the dive bar a couple streets over. is it healthy? absolutely not. but is it kinda weirdly cathartic? absolutely it is.
and you really really needed it after sundays service. you got stuck with a 15-top who had all sorts of allergies and dietary restrictions. like who the hell has a lettuce allergy? are they just making it up because they just don’t like lettuce? and why the hell are you trying to order a house salad when the main ingredient is literally lettuce? plus their drink orders were nuts. a tequila on the rocks? JUST tequila? and what’s worse is that the guy ordered like 4 of them. you just finished ringing in his 5th one.
you walk up to the bar to grab the drink (because damn seonghwa is fast) and look up to see him turning to you.
“hey, you gotta cut that guy off after that drink,” he says while shaking a cocktail in a shaker.
“yeah, that’s probably a good idea,” you laugh dryly.
“you shouldn’t have even rang this one,” he says, setting the shaker down. “you know there’s a 4 drink max, right? that’s like, a policy we have.”
“oh, i didn’t know that i guess.” you stab the ticket on the spindle.
“yeah i guess not,” he says with a sharpness in his voice, and starts pouring the drink in the cocktail glass. “just don’t do it again, princess.”
yeah, maybe you didn’t know that rule. but why does he have to talk to you like that? you start walking towards your 15-top, past the kitchen. you must’ve been really in your head about what seonghwa said because you completely missed someone yelling “corner.”
what happened felt like hours long, but it was probably only a few seconds. the food runner mingi was walking out of the kitchen with 3 plates of food. when you were passing by the kitchen entrance, it was too quick to move, and down fell all 3 plates. it was a mess.
“oh my god mingi, i’m so sorry!” you exclaim. you immediately grab a broom and attempt to sweep what you can.
“don’t apologize to me, apologize to seonghwa,” mingi says meekly, picking up the pieces of broken plate. “it was going to his 2-top at the bar.”
fuck. you don’t even want to look at him. you know he’s pissed. you finish cleaning the last bit of your mess while mingi goes back and asks for a refire on those dishes. as soon as you throw out the trash, you feel tears start to well up in your eyes. you can’t cry in the front of house, it’s unprofessional. but you can’t cry in the kitchen, unless you want the whole back of house to pester you with questions. the only solution was one place, every server’s safe haven: the walk in freezer.
you close the frosty door behind you, letting out a deep sigh that turns quickly into a billowing cloud. then, the waterworks. you couldn’t even help it, it all became too much. maybe it was out of frustration or stress, either way, you really needed this cry. tears stream down your face, turning cold on your cheeks from the freezing air.
it was mostly frustrating because the whole reason this happened was because of seonghwa. he snapped at you for not knowing some stupid rule, and it caused you to lose focus. it’s his fault.
just when you felt yourself calming down, the freezer door opens swiftly. it was him.
“you wanna tell me why my table’s food was refired?” seonghwa spits, anger in his eyes. “they’re gonna have to wait another 10 minutes and they’ve already been waiting for their food for 20.”
“seonghwa, please,” you huff, trying to hold it together. “can i just have one more second?”
“no! i could be totally out of a tip from a table because of you.”
“dude, it was a mistake!” you defend. you feel backed into a corner. literally, the walk-in was tiny and you were basically pressed up against the cold wall with seonghwa hovering over you.
“you keep making these stupid mistakes. i don’t know why they even hired you, you know fucking nothing about restaurants.”
you stood in shock. you didn’t know what to say. seonghwa had this fire behind his eyes that almost scared you. his chest was puffing up and down, breathing heavily from adrenaline. a bead of sweat falls down his temple, threatening to fall from his face. why did suddenly… he look so… attractive? you were so confused by how your body was reacting. instead of pure hatred, suddenly you felt a pang of lust. what the hell was happening to you?
“you owe me, princess,” seonghwa mumbles.
and in a blink of an eye, he withdraws from the walk-in and slams the door behind him, leaving you completely disoriented.
at the end of service, you were BEAT. you slump back into the bar seat, crack open your shift drink, and take a hefty gulp. ryujin jumps into the seat next to you, already drinking her usual PBR.
“dude, tonight SUCKED,” she groans.
“tell me about it,” you mutter, counting your cash tips. “at least they tipped well, but at what cost?”
“the cost of my fucking sanity, that’s what,” ryujin whines. “please tell me you’re still down for celebration. please please pleeeease?”
“oh i am so down,” you say. you look at your other coworkers. “san, woo? you coming?”
“you bet i am,” wooyoung chuckles, gathering up his stuff. “i’m heading there now. c’mon san.”
san stands and starts heading out the door with wooyoung but then turns back. “wait, seonghwa, are you finally gonna come to sunday celebration?”
seonghwa places down the wine glass he was polishing. “maybe. we’ll see.” he turns to hang up the glass on the rack and for a moment, just a moment, he makes eye contact with you. you look away immediately and decide to put your attention back on your beer. you chug what’s left of it and toss the can in the trash.
“ryujin, let’s go."
you and your fellow servers took the booth in the back of the bar, your usual spot. a couple of them were complaining about the tables they had, some were playing an intense game of darts, while you nursed your mixed drink as ryujin rants about her situationship.
wooyoung slips into the seat next to you, grabbing his beer on the table. “remind me to never play darts with san again. he’s way too competitive.”
you laugh, “you know, you say that, but you always end up playing with him every sunday.”
wooyoung chuckles as he shrugs. he then looks around the bar. “wait, didn’t seonghwa say he was coming?”
“he said he MIGHT come,” san says as he slides into the booth. you can feel yourself retreating as soon as his name was brought up. “but you know him. he never hangs out with anyone outside work.”
“he’s probably still scrubbing the bar,” the food runner mingi chimes in. “that dude is a clean freak.”
“nothing wrong with that at a restaurant!” san says.
“hey i’m gonna grab another drink,” you mumble, standing up. “i’ll be right back.”
you walk over and lean against the bar and wait patiently for the bartender to get to you. you look around, sort of people-watching the sunday crowd. it’s all industry people, you know it. you turn your head back to see the bartender facing you.
“what can i get you?”
“oh, i’ll just take a vodka cran,” you force a smile. he nods and turns to make your drink.
“a vodka cranberry?” you hear a chuckle next to you. “i thought your go-to would be different.”
you look over and see seonghwa leaning on the bar and looking over at you. he wasn’t wearing his work clothes like you’re used to seeing him in. he was wearing jeans and a black tank with a leather jacket. he looked different. he looked…. really good.
“oh, you made it,” you say, trying not to sound annoyed. you gather yourself a bit. “oh, don’t judge me for my drink choice, okay? as much as i love our free shift drinks, i don’t really drink beer outside of work.”
“ah, i see.” he nods, definitely uninterested, and looks at the bartender who had already set your drink down and was waiting for you to pay. you dig through your bag, struggling to find your wallet. seonghwa notices and sighs. “i’ll just get this one and i’ll get a jack and coke.”
“you didn’t have to do that,” you look up to him in confusion.
“it’s whatever, just take your drink,” he doesn’t even look at you as the bartender hands his drink over and grabs seonghwa’s card that he set on the bar.
“oh. well thank you.” you sip at your drink. “i’m going back to the booth.”
he grabs his jack and coke and takes a quick drink. “darts?”
“um, okay?” you stutter, watching him walk past you to the dart board in the corner, and then following him with a look on your face that could only be described as complete and utter confusion.
“san, woo, wanna play teams?” you call across to your coworkers. they perk up and immediately jump over to the dartboard.
“me and san versus you and seonghwa?” woo asks, rubbing his palms together with a chuckle. “let’s say loser buys drinks?”
“i’m not really good at this,” you say laughing. “but i’ll do my best.”
“oh, great,” seonghwa scoffs as he writes both of your initials in the chalkboard by the dartboard. “just show me what you got.” he grabs the darts and places them in your hand, touch lingering a little longer than needed.
“you know,” you say to seonghwa as you close out 18 on the chalkboard, then passing the darts to san. “i really wasn’t expecting you to come out tonight.”
“we’ve begging him for what seems like years, man,” san chimes in, attempting but eventually failing to hit bullseye. yet somehow team woosan is still beating you. he grabs the darts to hand to seonghwa.
“yeah, what changed?” wooyoung says as he leans against a chair.
“i wasn’t really expecting to come out either,” seonghwa admits. “i guess i wanted to see what sunday celebration was all about.” he closes out 17 and 19. why is he so good at everything?
“i mean it’s just all of us getting drunk to get over a shitty shift,” you watch as he tosses the darts to wooyoung for his turn. “so it’s really not much.”
“did you have a shitty shift?” he asks, turning to face you directly.
“w-well, yeah,” you mumble, uncomfortable by the attentiveness. woo quickly hands the darts to you and goes back to a conversation he’s having with san. you look down at the darts in your hands. “look, i know i made a mistake but i really didn’t know that rule about the drinks. and it got me in my head and then mingi came with your table’s food and—“
he rolls his eyes. “you just make a lot of rookie mistakes. you’ll learn.”
you completely abandon the game of darts at this point. “dude, you gotta stop talking to me like that.”
“like what?” he says with a smirk. does he think this is funny?
“like you think i’m stupid or something,” you say, slightly pushing his shoulder. “i’m not stupid. yeah, you’ve been in the industry way longer than me, but we all have to start somewhere.” you grab your bag and walk over to the booth, san and woo protesting behind you. you slouch next to ryujin with a sigh.
“what the hell just happened?” ryujin questions, looking back at seonghwa by the dartboard.
“seonghwa’s being a dick to me, once again.” you exhale deeply. “let’s get another drink.”
as the night went on, your coworkers start filing out one by one. san and wooyoung were one of the last to leave together (something going on there?) and you’re left in front of the bar, struggling to find an uber. your apartment is definitely walking distance, but not at this time of night. the real issue was getting a fucking ride. every uber was at least 20 minutes away. you looked back through the bar window and saw the bartender starting to close up. shit, it’s almost 1 am. you look back down to your phone and consider downloading lyft for maybe the 2nd time in your life.
“what are you still doing here?” you hear a voice behind you. you look back and it’s seonghwa, pulling his keys out of his pocket.
“i should be asking you the same thing,” you mutter. when will he leave you alone?
“can’t find an uber?” he questions, pointing down at your phone.
“yeah, its fine though,” you brush him off.
“you live close by right?” he asks, annoyance in his voice. “i’ll just drop you off.”
“no, really,” you huff. “i don’t need your help.”
“look princess,” he looks to you intently. “i’m not gonna let you wait outside a bar at this hour. i’m not that big of an asshole.”
you consider for a moment. he’s definitely right. it’s late, and staying outside a closed bar this late can lead to trouble.
“fine. but stop calling me princess.”
when he pulls up to your apartment building, you start to have an internal war with yourself. you can’t help but have this anger in the pit of your stomach that’s eating you up.
“you look deep in thought,” seonghwa says impatiently.
“yeah, uh,” you mumble. “i just.. i need to know, why do you hate me?”
seonghwa pulls the car in a spot and parks. “i don’t hate you, necessarily…” he starts.
“you just think you’re better than me?” you pry, irritated.
“i mean, i have been in the industry longer than you…” he smiles smugly.
“there you go again,” you throw your hands up, hatred scratching at your throat. “you are so belittling to me! you think you’re hot shit, huh?”
“do you think i am?” he smiles at the corner of his mouth, and lets out a dry chuckle.
“i think i can’t fucking stand you.”
he looks intently at your face, and you swear, he glances at your lips.
and that’s when he leans in and kisses you. it takes you by complete surprise, and you pull back. you look at each other with a newfound yet curious lust. for a beat, for just a moment, you both look at each other with the same understanding. you want to kiss him again. you grab his face and pull him back in. the kiss was all-consuming. you feel a wave of energy course through you, as if every neuron in you was lit up. it was almost dizzying. he holds the side of your face, grazing past your ear and the holding the nape of your neck. every touch felt like fire.
he slides his tongue through your lips and deepens the kiss, which makes you melt more into him. you feel his arm wrap around your waist and moves you closer. you felt a rush of heat run through you, but then seonghwa pulls back slightly.
“let’s go inside?” he asks, his voice low.
with no reply, you both get out and you take him up to your apartment and to your room, closing the door behind you. he stands close to you, pushing you up against the door and kissing you up your neck and jaw until his lips meet yours again. he slots his leg between yours and presses himself against your heat, grinding as he devours you.
you turn to push him against the wall and sank down to your knees.
“fuuuck,” he groans, smiling as he slips his shirt off. “i like this view.”
“shut up, asshole,” you snap as you unzip his jeans, pulling them down. you look up to see a bulge pressing through his black underwear. god, you can tell it’s fucking big. you graze your fingers over it, teasing him. he lets out a heavy sigh, and you feel him twitch under you.
“i need you to touch me now,” he says grabbing the back of your head.
“yeah? or what?” you tease, just barely holding the length of him.
“c’mon princess,” he says with a cocky smirk. that fucking nickname. he moves his underwear down to reveal his hard cock hanging heavy by your lips. your mouth opens as you stare up at his length. he’s really big. “oh baby, are you already cock-drunk before even touching it?”
you sat in shock at the sheer size of him. he grabs your chin and moves himself closer to your face.
“open,” he says, tapping his dick on your lips. you open up to take him in your mouth, with him groaning at the warm, wet feeling.
twirling your tongue around his length, you earn a pleased moan from seonghwa’s lips. you take as much of him as you can in your mouth, nearly gagging but pushing through. you can feel him twitching in the back of your throat, which makes you hum with satisfaction.
“yeah,” he hisses, pulling his length out a bit and slowly thrusting back into your mouth. “take my cock just like that, baby.”
he pushes into your throat and pulls out again, this time out completely. a string of saliva still connects between his dick and your lips. he grabs himself and slaps it on your face by your open mouth, your jaw going slack and your tongue out to taste him.
“ahh, such a good girl,” he smirks down at you, slapping his dick on your face again. he grabs a fistful of your hair and pushes your mouth back on his cock.
you grab the base and start sucking like your life depends on it, going from the base to the tip, where you swirl your tongue around him. you regain a little control back, stroking and twisting up his length and sucking at his tip, and you can taste the precum pooling into your mouth. you feel him thrusting into your throat, tugging at your hair and pushing you deeper onto him. you can’t help but let out a whimper at the feeling.
“fuuuck, you like that, you little slut?” he tugs you off his cock by your hair. “you like when i fuck your mouth? keep doing that for me.”
you lost all control in that moment. you can only do as you’re told. you open your mouth like a good girl, and suck. he pistons into you, hitting the back of your throat over and over. tears prick the corners of your eyes, but you don’t care. you only want to please him. you moan onto his cock, forcing yourself to not gag from his size. the vibrations in your throat only drive him more mad, and you can tell from his deep moans and the hardening of his cock. he’s definitely close.
the grip around your hair tightens while he continues to bob you up and down his cock. your eyes flutter shut and tears start to fall down your cheeks, and you hold his thighs, nails digging crescents into his skin. he continues to hiss and moan in praise, loving the way you’re sputtering around his cock and leaving spit running down your chin. you take all the power left in you to lap at the underside of his cock, causing him to groan loudly and pull you off of him.
“open wide for me, princess,” he says, stroking himself above you. you obey and lay your tongue flat for him, ready to take his load. he lets out a long moan, spurting all around and into your mouth. you lick up every drop remaining from his tip as he comes down from his high.
just as you regain your composure, he’s helping you take your shirt off and kissing your spit and cum covered mouth. he pushes you backwards until the back of your legs hit the edge of the bed. you fall back and let him slide your pants off, leaving you just in your bra and (fucking soaked) underwear. he falls to his knees as he goes down to kiss your inner thighs, inching closer and closer to your wet heat. when he goes to lick the wet spot in your underwear, licking a stripe up to your clit, you let out a small gasp.
“so sensitive,” he grins, lifting his head up and moving to take off your underwear. he grabs your thighs and pushes your legs back so your pussy is in full view for him.
“and so fucking wet for me…” he trails off before he dives down to devour you.
he laps at your wet hole, savoring the taste and the way it contracts around nothing. his tongue leads up to your clit, earning a sharp moan from you. liking the way you sound, he does the same pattern, making you whine with pleasure. he looks up to you, a moaning mess, and flicks at your bud teasingly, as if he’s mocking you. he hums in amusement.
“hold this,” he releases your leg for you to grab, keeping you spread open for him. he places his fingers on your clit, circling a bit before dipping down to your hole, just at the surface. you can’t help but clench. “so eager.”
he plunges his middle two fingers into you, your tightness gripping around him. he lowers his mouth back to your clit, swirling around as he begins finger fucking you. he’s eating you like he’s fucking starved. the stimulation had you gripping the sheets, whimpering.
he hums against your pussy, kissing and sucking at your clit. “mmm, fuck,” he smiles with a moan. “so good…”
you can’t help but grab the back of his head, gripping onto his hair while he works his fingers and mouth on you. he twirls his tongue around your clit all while curling his fingers in you, hitting that sweet spot.
“s-seonghwa,” you let out. “don’t stop, it feels so fucking good.”
out of defiance, he pulls off of you completely, your legs dropping down and making you ache from the loss of being filled. you can’t help but buck your hips up, desperate for him to touch you. he runs his hand back onto your pussy, spreading his fingers around your bud, avoiding touching it. and then, he slaps your wet cunt. you wince, partly from pain, but also from the stimulation. your bundle of nerves prickles and reddens the wet skin.
“mmm, dirty slut,” he laughs dryly, sadistically. “so desperate to cum. you want to cum for me?”
you nod, a little too impatiently.
“tell me.” he circles his fingers around your dripping hole again.
“fuck,” you let out, exasperated. “please, seonghwa. please let me cum.”
with a smirk, he drives his fingers back into you and latches onto your clit, working at a steady but meticulous pace. when your hips start grinding against his mouth, he holds you down, and continues working you. he swirls his tongue around your clit just right, and massages at your sweet spot. you feel your orgasm building in your stomach, like a cord about to snap. you feel heat rush through your entire body like a wave.
“i’m cumming,” you barely moan out, completely overtaken by pleasure. seonghwa relentlessly works you through it, moaning against you as you climax. he laps at your clit, trying to get every drop of your orgasm. he doesn’t stop until you have to grab his head and lift it.
he looks up at you with an intense lust in his eyes, and his mouth and chin soaked from your juices.
“you drive me fucking crazy,” you sigh as you watch him stand up and lean over you. he pushes you back to the head of the bed, on his knees and slotting between your thighs.
eating you out must have really turned him on, because his cock is hanging heavy between you, red and leaking with precum. he guides his dick up and down your sensitive cunt, gathering your wetness up to stimulate your clit. he groans looking down at the sight.
he eases his way into you, gripping your thighs to keep from snapping his hips into you. your mouth goes slack at the sensation, and you try to stifle back a moan. he inches his way into you, thrusting slowly until he bottoms out.
“fuck, princess,” he sighs, and he feels you clench around his length.
he leans forward to hover over you, slowly thrusting into your heat. he grabs the nape of your neck and kisses you deeply, letting you moan in his mouth. each thrust he pounds into you makes you melt into each other more, desperate to feel every inch of one another. the rolls of his hips hitting deep caverns of your cunt makes you dizzy from stimulation. the squelching sound of your wet pussy makes him pull away, now grabbing at your throat hard enough to where it hurts a little, but hurts so good.
“tell me you’re my little slut,” he spits at you, thrusting deeper inside of you.
“i-i’m your little slut,” you say between moans, completely lost in his trance. he has all the power over you.
he releases your neck and lifts one of your legs over his shoulder, making him reach a completely new angle inside of you. he pistons into you with determination, and reaches down to toy with your clit. you begin to see stars.
“you’re so fucking tight,” he hisses, relishing the squeezing of your core.
his hips snap into a faster pace, all while mercilessly thumbing at your clit. the stimulation becomes all too much for you, and you feel yourself reaching another high.
“oh my god don’t stop, please seonghwa don’t stop,” you moan, unintentionally clenching around his length.
“yeah baby, cum on my cock,” he smiles down at you. “just like that.”
you can’t even think, all you can grasp is how good this man feels on top of you, how good he feels in you, how full you feel. your breath hitches as a wave of pleasure courses through your body, sending you into a blissed out state. your moans are matched by seonghwa, him fucking your contracting cunt, as if it’s begging to milk him dry. he continues to thrust into your overstimulated core until he releases his hot ropes of cum into you, completely filling you up.
he finally slows down his movement, both your breathing heavy and irregular. he pulls out of you with a hiss, watching your pulsing core as his release slowly spills out of you.
“jesus christ,” he groans at the sight. as if he couldn’t resist, he brings his head down and licks up your core, swallowing the liquid. once every drop is savored, he lifts up to level with you. he then places a kiss on your lips, suddenly soft, and very unexpected.
without a word, he grabs you by the waist and holds you close, allowing you to rest your head on his chest. he softly brushes his fingers through your hair.
and just like that, you both drift off to sleep with only one thing on your mind. what just happened, and what the hell is going to happen next?
a/n: this is my first real fic on the internet yall!! im so new to this but i had so much fun. i hope u did too! stay tuned for part 2, but for now please leave feedback ♥ edit: part two is here :-)
#park seonghwa#ateez#ateez fanfic#ateez x reader#ateez smut#seonghwa smut#seonghwa fic#ateez fic#seonghwa x reader#ateez one shot#dom!seonghwa
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i want you all to understand this.
insulin pens are very often used by diabetic children (or their parents, but they were very easy to use during the short time i was prescribed them when i was a child myself). they’re less cumbersome, produce less waste, and are far easier than pulling insulin from a vial with a single use syringe, as syringes are much more susceptible to air bubbles, which result in the diabetic not getting enough medication. i’m explaining this part because i know that some diabetic adults do also use them, and i’m sure that that’s true of diabetic adults in palestine with such scarce resources. when it’s life or death, you can’t really be picky.
the israeli occupation is now banning insulin pens from entering gaza.
lack of insulin results in diabetic ketoacidosis — essentially a very, very dangerous version of the effects of the keto diet. insulin is a key for the sugar from one’s food (both slow and fast acting, since all food has some carbohydrates, from nuts to potatoes to table sugar) to get from their bloodstream into their cells. without insulin, the body resorts to eating through its own fat stores rather than the sugar it cannot access and tries to flush the excess glucose that is in the blood through the urine. this results in weight loss, headaches, nausea, dehydration, blurred vision, abdominal pain, impaired mental faculties, and, if left untreated, will result in a coma, and eventually death within a matter of weeks. not “can.” it will kill you if not treated, and was largely considered a lethal diagnosis until insulin was discovered in the early 1900s and made readily available in 1922.
i’ve been in dka. admittedly, i was very young and have blocked much of it out. but i do remember that it fucking sucked. i couldn’t focus on anything, i was ravenous no matter how much i ate, and the room spinning to the point i felt like i was going to throw up became an increasingly regular occurrence. i was seven years old and wasting away like i was starved. i was dying. a few more days, and i likely would’ve gone into a coma and might not be here now.
to inflict that, willingly and knowingly, on innocent people, is nothing short of a crime against humanity, and violates the geneva conventions (item 2.a.ii. torture or inhumane treatment, including biological experiments and item 2.a.iii. willfully causing great suffering or serious injury to body or health). not that the israeli occupation cares, of course, as south african prosecutors have already extensively detailed their crimes in the icj, and this one in particular has already been committed near-countless times.
this entire occupation is a genocide, and this is only one more nail in that coffin. but, as a diabetic — as a human being who has been in that state and was lucky enough to have the resources to live almost another fifteen years (with the anniversary of my own diagnosis about halfway through next month), i can’t find the words to express my disgust and rage anymore. maybe it’s selfish to be so deeply impacted by this particular blow. i don’t know. but these people have done nothing wrong but be disabled in gaza, and as someone with the same disability, i know that no one deserves this, even if they have committed a crime (which, again, these civilians, largely children, have not). i will not fucking stand for it.
we need a ceasefire. we need an end to the occupation. we need a free palestine. now.
here’s a masterpost of how you can help.
EDIT: here’s a post on how to help diabetics in gaza specifically
#free palestine#free gaza#israeli war crimes#actuallydiabetic#actually diabetic#actuallydisabled#actually disabled#shut up emrys
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Something a lot of people don't realise is that Katniss likes Peeta as a person.
That plays a far bigger part in her wanting to spend her life with him than his undying love for her. It's not like how Gale imagined it or some readers interpret it to be, that Katniss loves Peeta because of how much he loves her and is devoted to her.
For a long time, Peeta's undying love for her only made her feel guilty because she thought she couldn't give him what he wanted, which we know is completely false, but she got it in her head.
She assumed Peeta wanted children and never bothered to ask. She assumed Peeta wanted her undying love as well and thought she didn't harbor that feeling for him. Both were wrong, but the point is that Peeta "simping" for her did nothing for him to win her over.
She wants to be with Peeta because they always get along from the moment they're put together. They enjoy each other's company and have intellectual and deep conversations. They didn't even realize how soul-searching it was when they talked about wanting to die as their true selves on the roof before the first game. But they've been like that from day one.
Katniss had been spending a lot more time with Gale by that point, but they had never talked about something that deep. That's part of the reason their relationship starts falling apart the moment they need to align their morals. They never talked about it, period.
Katniss and Peeta are compatible in morals, ideals, and even humor. They can laugh together in a deadly game. They can tease each other in any circumstances. That's what makes their relationship enjoyable. That's why they'd still end up together even if the games never happened. I stand by that.
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Sharing ⚔️🐺
w/c: 2.4K
pairing: logan howlett x wade wilson x f!reader
tags: 18+ smut. mmf threesome, pure filth, jealousy, cunnilingus, blowjob, fingering, throating fucking, wade being wade, finger sucking, logan fucks you, unprotected sex (don’t do this!), creampie, cum slurping (??)
a/n: this is my first fic for both characters! watched all the x-men bc of my second rewatch of dp&w and i’m in love w that old man. also this took me a week to write 🧍♀️
you didn’t know how but you somehow were able to get both wade and logan into bed with you.
a dream come true but the downside was the fact they were both acting all territorial and not at all wanting to pull away from you.
when you first started they both wanted to make out with you and you had to switch off quickly before the bickering began. though having them each suck one breast was enough for a short while.
but now logan was devouring your pussy like the starved man he was and although wade let him have a turn first, he grew impatient fast. very fast.
unfortunately his unmedicated adhd was of no help to him and if anything just made things even worse for him.
now he didn't believe in the saying "save the best for last" because he was aching to taste you. he was so fucking hard, he swore it was more painful than having blue balls.
finally, after enjoying the show for a solid three minutes, he groaned and shook logan's shoulder to get his attention. "don't be so fucking stingy old man, give me a turn." wade complained and groaned some more.
logan ignored him and kept his eyes on you, sucking on your clit while he teased your entrance with the tip of his finger making you whine. he moaned against you sending shivers all throughout your body meanwhile wade was all pouts and damn near stomping his feet.
logan continued ignoring him because if he was one thing, it was stubborn.
on the other hand, wade was relentless and wasn’t going to give up so easily, and luckily he knew how to push logan’s buttons.
“come on grandpa, I know you’ll get tired soon enough anyway, just tap out.” wade pestered, earning himself a low growl from the older man.
you could only giggle at wade’s reaction, finding his eagerness to be cute and in a way, needy.
logan on the other hand rolled his eyes and wanted to stab him with his claws somewhere it’d take a while to regenerate just to have more time with his head buried between your thighs, but he opted against it. he didn’t want to ruin your bed with his blood.
"you both said you'd be fine with sharing.." you say and point a finger at them both.
logan looked up at you and you gave him a look, earning yourself an eye roll. he pulled away and groaned, wiping your arousal from his face with the back of his hand before he stands up so wade could take his rightful seat between your legs. "better do it right, bub."
"you bet your ass i'm gonna do it right, just look at this beauty." he says and lets out a little whistle before admiring how you were glistening already.
all wet and ready for him.
"yeah you're gonna have to surgically remove me from this perfect fucking pussy." he murmurs then dives right in while logan comes up at you and curses at him.
you playfully rolled your eyes at him and put your hand on his cheek before pulling him in for a kiss. he immediately kissed back and didn't waste a singular second to slide his tongue into your mouth.
that’s when wade decided to pull your legs up and keep them steady while he lapped at your folds, making you moan in logan’s mouth. he groaned back and let his hands wander over your body, squeezing your tits, hips, everything he could get his hands on.
your hands traced along his pecs, collarbones, then slowly going down as he deepens the kiss — electricity surging through your body, and the overall feeling of warmness radiating off each other was palpable.
you pull away from him so you can see his belt so you can quickly take it off. he took his shirt off while you took the belt off and unbottoned his pants. he sat up and you tried to take his pants off with haste but it seemed wade also wanted your attention on him as he slipped a finger inside you making you gasp.
logan rolled his eyes, letting out a growl as he took his own pants off and throwing them on the floor. he sat up, knees on the bed and spread wide as he grabbed your attention by clicking his tongue, “focus over here, princess.”
it easily got your attention, like a moth to a flame. too easy.
you leaned up and started stroking him through his boxers, he closed his eyes and moaned. you smiled and with one quick movement slid his boxers down making his cock spring up and hit his stomach.
you looked at it speechless and nearly drooling. it was the perfect amount of thick and long, precum leaking down the tip and a solid vein on the side. you tried to sit up a bit but wade’s grip on your legs wasn’t budging so you just began to stroke him.
he leaned down a bit — his eyes back on you — and it was just enough to kiss his tip so you did before tasting the precum and licking it from your lips making him groan. the sight was as good as he imagined it, hell even fucking better.
"fuck-" he moaned and put a hand on your head, urging you to do something.
wade looks up at you then at logan with his eyes rolled to the back of his head and you're just giving him kitten licks. he pulls away from your clit to let out a chuckle then speaks directly at you as he slowly fingers you, "don't tease the old man, baby. we gotta respect our elders."
you looked down at him then nodded — turning your attention back to logan's cock. wade's grip loosened just a tad bit so you could move your body up to try to take his cock in your mouth. you opened wide and slap it on your tongue, not being able to help the urge to tease him anyway.
logan grunted and thrusted his hips forward, "come on bub i'm dying over here." he groaned making you chuckle.
"patience is a virtue." you tease, looking up at him through your eyelashes.
he groans and shakes his head before holding your head still and makes you take the tip inside your mouth. you moan against him and immediately take more of him in your mouth while stroking his shaft. "you know that's not my strong suit, bub."
“and never will be peanut.” wade snickers and slips a second finger inside you.
you moan against logan’s cock and slowly bob your head back and forth while wade tries to match your pace. you quickly notice what he’s trying to do and try to fit more of logan in your mouth but he was just so thick.
he slowly began to thrust his hips forward, making you take it so you just relaxed and let him. you breathed through your nose and brought a hand down to hold one of wade’s. he grabbed it softly and gave it a squeeze while he continued fucking you, a bit faster now.
you reached your other hand up to logan and he grabbed it, rubbing his thumb against your skin while your name slipped out of his lips like a prayer, because he just can’t help it.
your mouth felt so good, so heavenly. he knew this should’ve been done sooner but better late than never.
you closed your eyes and slowly laid your head down on the mattress so he could do the work, you turned your head more to the side and he started going faster. meanwhile wade added a third finger and was matching logan’s pace while he looked at the view with pure lust in his eyes.
“doing so good pumpkin, treating our old man how he deserves huh?” wade purrs making you clench against his fingers.
wade went back to your clit and started sucking then alternating to flicking it with his tongue. you were letting out muffled moans but they were just overpowered by logan’s. he looked down at you and moaned, “atta girl, just like that baby. takin’ it so good.”
“put that mouth to good use peanut, she’s been so sassy with us recently.” wade chimes in making logan chuckle.
“she has, hasn’t she?” he groans and slows down but starts going deeper.
wade matches that as well and that’s when he takes full notice on how your juices were dripping down his fingers, “jesus it’s like niagara falls down here except i could drink this up for the rest of my life.”
logan smirks and finally stops, sliding himself off so you can breathe. you take a deep a breath and wade slips his fingers out of you as well making you whine. he gasps and points a finger at logan, “what kind of sorcery is this?!?!!”
“i want a taste.” he mutters and wade sticks his fingers out earning himself a loud growl.
you roll your eyes and sit up, reaching for his arm before opening your mouth and taking all his fingers in your mouth — tasting yourself while you made eye contact with him.
after tasting all your juices, you pull his hand away with a plop then turn to logan and grab his arm to pull him down before pulling him in for a kiss. you stuck your tongue inside his mouth and before you knew it he started kissing back, able to taste how sweet you are.
you pulled away and laid back down, looking at them both before they exchanged looks, “move over wilson, it’s my turn.” he responds and climbs off the bed.
wade climbs on top of the bed and takes logan’s previous position because he did say he would try his best to share. he never liked sharing any of his toys but with you, it might be different.
unfortunately logan was a fucking liar, and as much as he loved tasting you, he needed to be inside you even more.
he spread your legs and positioned himself to your entrance, teasing you with just the tip while you licked wade’s wet tip. “thanks for warming her up for me, bub.” he says, giving wade a sly wink then sliding inside you with ease.
your walls clamped against him, and you couldn’t help the whimpers that came out. he made himself fit and just slid all the way in, to take in how you feel.
you were so tight, squeezing him to absolute perfection he could’ve sworn he was seeing stars.
you were about to take wade into your head when he shook his head and grabbed your hand, bringing it to his cock, “your mouth can take a small break, cupcake.”
you grinned up at him and began to stroke him, he was also thick like logan. now you were just confused how the hell you didn’t think of doing this sooner.
logan was now slowly starting to fuck into you, just wanting to be as deep as he can be because you just molded onto his cock like a missing puzzle piece. he held onto the back of your thighs and leaned down a little, thrusting back and forth while he held eye contact with you.
you were already teary eyed, looking so fucked out, in bliss. your eyes were fluttering and you could’ve sworn you were dreaming. “how’s that cock feel baby?” wade asked and you just moaned.
he grinned and just watched how you took logan, how your body was reacting to his and how he swore he could cum a whole ocean just from watching.
logan began going faster, having a similar reaction to wade. you looked so fucking pretty taking him, and trying your best to stroke wade. so fucking perfect.
“bet you’re close huh, gramps?” wade cuts his thoughts and he could only grunt. “can’t even blame you really… not at all actually. but we gotta make sure our girl finishes too.” he adds and that he could agree with.
you bring your unoccupied hand down to start rubbing your clit and instantly feel that familiar feeling in your lower belly. “gonna cum for us, baby?” wade purrs and you just nod while letting out mixed moans with both of their names.
“that’s my good girl.” logan murmurs, making you whimper.
“our good girl.” wade corrects making logan chuckle.
“our good girl.” logan grunts, earning himself some desperate little cries from you.
your legs began to shake and you continued stroking wade, going as fast as you could. within seconds you could feel him twitching and logan’s thrusts started to become sloppy. “please cum inside me.” you murmur making both men groan.
with one final thrust, logan released his load deep inside you, your orgasm hit you hard — making you a shaking mess and a mix of moans and cries leaving your lips. meanwhile wade was groaning and spilling his load all over you, some made it to your mouth and some even down to your belly.
the room was filled with loud breaths and the strong smell of sex that just intoxicated logan’s nostrils. he caught his breath and looked down at you, eyes fluttering and a cute little smile on your face.
he slowly brought your legs down, letting them rest on the soft mattress before slowly sliding out of you. you calmed your breathing down and let go of wade’s dick. when you felt logan’s dick slip out, you instantly felt his load come out and drip down to your asshole.
as if a physical light bulb lit up above wade’s head, he quickly got off the bed, and went between your legs and not hesitating for one second to slurp up absolutely every drop of the mixed fluids.
you and logan both looked at him with shocked looks on your faces, absolutely stunned.
he didn’t pull away until you were absolutely clean and no remnants were to be seen. he finally looked up at you both and just shrugged, “when else would i get the chance?”
“we could always do it again?” you offer and shrug, trying to be nonchalant as if your brain isn’t already filled with more ideas.
“do i smell a part two?” wade asks, raising an eyebrow before getting up just to lay next to you while logan did the same.
maybe sharing wouldn’t be the end of the world.
#logan howlett#wade wilson#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett x reader smut#wade wilson smut#wade wilson x reader#logan howlett x wade wilson x reader#deadpool smut#wolverine smut#deadpool and wolverine
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hiii this is my first time requesting so i dont know how specific or vague i should get :,) but maybe a scenario between sukuna and reader on how their wedding ceramony(and maybe afterparty) went? i saw an edit of sukuna with lana del rey’s margaret and immediately thought you could write this scenario since all of your husband!sukuna works are chef’s kiss “:D
true oath — ryomen sukuna x f!reader
a/n: so glad you like my husband!sukuna works anon and I hope you like this as well 🥹 ALSO special thanks to @lexiene and @camelnose for beta-reading BIG HUGS TO BOTH OF YOU SRSLY MWUAHHH
the servants scurry all around the room, trying to finish as much as possible in the time frame they have been given.
meanwhile, you are sat in front of your vanity with your personal maid who is putting the final touches to your makeup. you let out a soft giggle at the franticness of the others then look at the mirror to examine yourself.
the kimono had been handpicked by sukuna himself, something he believed was only logical—given that, according to him, nobody knows you as well as he does, and of course, that you’re getting married to him.
you thought he was being overconfident in his abilities, but to your surprise, he really did end up choosing something that—both—fit you well and you liked very much.
though, you wouldn’t tell him that. you wonder what his reaction would be to how you actually look in it, especially since you barely made him agree to not seeing you until the ceremony.
“no.”
“sukuna, come on,” you huffed, clinging onto his arms, “it’s a tradition!”
“I don’t care about traditions, you know that,” he replied simply and carried you in his arms.
you pouted and rested your head on his shoulder, looking up at him with your best puppy eyes, “please, honey?”
he looks at you for a few moments before clicking his tongue and looking away, “fine.”
“yay!”
you let out a chuckle at the memory and are interrupted by the door opening. the servant at the door is heavily panting as he speaks, “the l—lord demands to begin the ceremony right now.”
one of the maids looks at him incredulously, “what?! we still have much to prefer like the pathway to his highness and the food!”
the servant nods in understanding, “I know I swear,” he gulps, “but he is getting real impatient and has expressed the need to see her highness more than once.”
you roll your eyes and stand up, “well, tell him that we will be on our way.”
the main maid gasps, “but my lady—”
“don’t fret,” you smile, “if he asks about the unfinished tasks and preparations, I will tell him that you were working on it, but his insistence on speeding things up halted you from your duty, understood?”
they all nod hesitantly. you clap your hand and grin, “well then, lets go! I am excited to see my dear future husband.”
the maids smile nervously, still trying to come to terms with your marriage to sukuna. staying by his side as his lover is one thing, but to officially be declared his wife?
they have come to the conclusion that either you are as crazy as him underneath or you simply managed to tame him—to an extent at least.
you finally exit your room, and as you walk down the hallways, servants clear the way for you, bowing their heads as they offer you their blessings.
you look around the halls, finding them decorated with flowers already, so they are probably talking about the path in the main room.
the flowers are all of your choice, and it fills you with a sense of joy that each one that you pointed out on your outings with sukuna has been placed meticulously in the arrangement that litter the halls.
you slow down your pace, partially to soak in the view a bit more and partially to tease sukuna who is probably waiting with the last smidge of patience he can manage.
sukuna, who is sat on his throne, hand on his knee as he tapped it in waiting. he knows what you’re doing. you have always tried to test just how much you can get away with, which is admittedly a lot at this point.
for example, the first time you did something that he considered audacious is when you were strolling the gardens when you first came to the palace.
you were faced with sukuna who was stood in the place where you usually lounged.
it irked you cause he had the entire garden but chose the most secluded spot—which was usually where you sat so the servants can forget about doing any chores.
you frowned, “that is my spot.”
he quirked an eyebrow but didn’t look back at you. he let out a chuckle, “and this entire palace is mine.”
“nice try,” you quipped, “but I know the palace belongs to sukuna, the king of curses.”
at that, he turned to look at you. he leaned back against the tree, arms crossed and a cold stare on his face, “and who do you think I am, human?”
“oh—shit, okay,” you spluttered, “so you’re sukuna? you look more handsome than I thought.”
a smirked plays at the corner of his lips.
he didn’t reply to you, and you—rightfully—thought that you have dug your own grave. you started to shift your footing from your tip toes to your heel, and you looked away.
he stood up, an amused smile on his face, and he passed you, “I am expecting more from you, so don’t disappoint me.”
you tilted your head, watching his retreating figure. he had left one last comment, “but the next time I see you, I expect you to kneel at my presence.”
that was the moment that sukuna started wanting to see more of you, to see how far you could go. it was a new thing to amuse himself with, so it was more than welcome.
he just doesn’t know when it started being the other way around, because you, in fact, did not kneel.
instead, you started treating him like someone who you genuinely enjoyed their company, and it threw him off slightly; however, that is one of the reasons why he is currently waiting for you, his bride to appear.
the door finally opens, and it reveals you.
sukuna’s heart doesn’t skip a beat at how the kimono fit you exactly how he thought, how your make up was simply perfect, nor how the smile on your lips exuded both happiness and mischief.
what sukuna feels instead is booming pride.
you were always his, since the moment you entered the palace, before he even laid eyes on you. but this silly tradition simply solidifies it even more in the eyes of the others.
he smirks as you finally stand in front of him. you can barely contain your grin, “hello, future husband.”
he didn’t think that a tie to him would ever make somebody so joyed. he smirks at you, patting his lap, “you should know by now that I know you best, you silly woman.”
instantly, your expression falls, and you retort, “way to ruin the mood, king.”
amusement glints in his eyes, and he pulls you close to him, “don’t you ever get tired of giving me attitude? you ought to learn your place.”
“is it not by your side, my lord?” you hum, and he chuckles, content when you finally settle on his lap.
“damn audacious woman,” he looks up at the servants that fill the room.
they are all bowing, some trembling, others alienly still. then there is you who is swinging her feet as she sits on the lap of the king of curses.
he lets out a small breath then speaks loudly, “get the rings.”
in a moment, a servant comes in, carrying a cushion where two golden rings lay. your eyes widen at the sheer amount of patterns of gems on one of the rings.
the servant kneels in front of you two, and sukuna takes the ring decorated with gems in one hand and your hand in another. it slips perfectly onto your finger, and you raise your hand.
you feel your jaw slack a bit at how intricately made it is. and upon closer inspection, you see that one of the patterns is actually sukuna’s name.
you look up at him, and he is already looking at you with a small smirk and a confident look, “you should see the look on your face,” he muses.
he takes your hand into his and raises it slightly.
he examines it quietly before letting go. you blink confused but shrug the thought of your mind. you hold his hand in yours gently, and you put the ring on him.
his ring, contrary to yours, is a lot minimal. it’s a simple golden band, but what surprises you is that your name is etched on the surface.
“sukuna, my name…?”
he looks at the ring on his finger and flexes his hand. he looks at you simply says, “figured you would like something like this.”
you smile widely and giggle, “you know, people usually carve the name of the inside.”
“and I am not usual, am I?”
you nod gently and lean against his chest, “no, you’re not.”
you honestly didn’t know what to expect from a wedding ceremony in the ryomen sukuna “style”. however, sukuna was set on…standing out and making it a memorable event.
the room was flooded with servants carrying trays upon trays of food—all which you have noticed were your favorite—and dancers that put one of the most fascinating shows you’ve seen.
you gape at how they make their moves so effortless, which you can see through just how much practice was put into it.
you look at sukuna, and you seem him smirking down at you, clearly proud of the reaction the show has gotten out of you.
“how—how long have you been preparing for this?” you ask the man.
he glances at the dancers then replies, “6 months; I needed it to be perfect, and these humans take so long to learn things.”
“also, I know that the show I organized is great—“ he says before holding your chin and making you face him, “but that enamoured face should be directed at none other than me, got it?”
you nod frantically, not out of fear, but he is staring directly into your eyes in a way that simply is far too intense. he releases your chin, humming in satisfaction.
the dance finally comes to a close, and everybody in the room bows down to the both of you.
uraume speaks up from beside you—when did they get there—head held down humbly, “it is time for you to exchange vows, my lord and m’lady.”
vows? sukuna prepared vows?
tilting your head in confusion, you look at sukuna, and he is already looking at you. he rolls his eyes, “I didn’t prepare anything, brat; don’t get ahead of yourself.”
okay, that tracks. you give him a thumbs up.
but he is quiet for a moment before speaking up, “I have no need for that; all that you need to is that,” he leans closer to you, "you are mine, entirely and without exception, in every breath you take,” he spoke lowly against your lips, “I won’t let you forget that.”
he lets out a breath of amusement at the way your eyes widen and the glimmer behind them. he wastes no time in locking his lips with you, sealing your contract for life.
—
“wooo! I am married!” you say drunkenly, giggling and swaying slightly beside your now husband.
you whip your head back at him, almost falling in the process but his hand easily steadies you, “sukuna, I am married!”
“I know,” he replies, eyeing the empty cup that was full of sake. he hums, “uraume, what was the intensity in the sake?”
they both glance at you, standing on top of a table, babbling a kind of song about your marriage and being a queen now.
you nearly trip on the covers, but sukuna nods for uraume to stop your fall. they hold you up with one hand, maintaining a safe distance, so sukuna doesn’t get protective.
“high, my lord.”
you keep giggling and squealing, and he sighs, “certainly looks like it.”
he rests his chin on his palm, watching your figure run around and keeping an eye for you. however, in the corner of his eyes, he spots a couple of men staring at you, eyes full-blown and open.
it irks him that even after that display, they still dare to look at what belongs to him.
with minimal effort, he flicks his finger, and their heads go flying to the corner of the room. some of the blood splatters onto the floor, but he pays it no mind.
“ooo, red wine!”
“don’t you dare drink that, you stupid woman!”
after a while you find yourself laid down on the bed, head dazed as you try to make sense of your surroundings. you can hear a door closing, and some heavy footsteps getting closer and closer.
finally, your husband comes into view with his arms crossed. you pull on his sleeve gently, “what about the after-party?”
he sits down beside you, and you take the chance to lay your head on his lap. he allows it but grunts in response, “after-party with you all delirious like this?”
“I am fine!” you protest, huffing and giving him the most intimidating glare you can muster.
he simply flicks your forehead, and you yelp, shielding your face away from him, “you’re so rude!”
“pretty sure, you aren’t supposed to reply your king and husband like that,” he states. he squishes your face with one hand and quirks an eyebrow, “you’re testing your limits.”
“I don’t care!”
“oh?”
you note the change of tone almost instantly, and it is enough to sober you up.
you look up, wide-eyed at him, and on his face is a devious smirk, and behind his eyes are thoughts that are probably going to be the end of you tonight.
he leans down slightly, “I have a different kind of after-party in mind,” one of his hands trails to hold your wrist, “which I think you will quite like,” you try resisting for even a second, but you’re no match for him, “starting now.”
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my girl- (o.piastri no.81)
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summary: fans made an edit of oscar and you being in love since your prema days.
pairing: oscar piastri (no.81) x fem! driver! reader (no.28)
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Oscar Piastri being in love with Y/n Y/l/n for 15 minutes straight, and vice versa (F2 -> F1)
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Clip 1: Prema video
Bahrain Airport, F2 season beginning, March.
“And here we have the 3 year reigning champion of the Indycar Junior series, making her F2 pivot, Y/n Y/l/n!” Rob cheered as he woke you from your nap on the plane.
“Shut up,” you groaned, pushing the camera away with a chuckle. “I'm tired, leave me be.”
“The plane is landing, idiot!”
“Hush!” you laughed. “That means ages until we get off, get your camera away Rob!”
Rob and you had gotten the same flight from London, and you’d become fast friends. He was eccentric and overtop, but a good laugh. You were sure you looked crazy. 6 hour flights do that to a person. You and Rob chatted to the camera about the weekend, and you introduced yourself to the Prema fans. Not many people gave a shit about Indycar, and even less cared about Indycar junior.
As you disembarked the plane and got through security, people stopped you and Rob for photos and whatnot, then you finally got out of the airport. Angelina was standing there with a camera and a big ‘welcome’ sign, and another two very tired teenage boys beside her.
“Y/n!” she cheered, pulling you both into a hug. “Rob!”
Little did you know, Rob’s camera was pointed at Oscar, who turned to Fred with a shocked expression and whispered: “She’s gorgeous.”
Beside him, Fred chuckled. “Go for her.”
“No way I have any chance with her, I-”
“I can hear you, y’know?” you cut in, coming over to introduce yourself.
He went redder than a tomato, and you all just laughed.
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Clip 2: Sky Sports channel
Bahrain International Circuit, 27th of March
“And it’s No. 28 who sees the chequered flag first, the rookie, and the only girl on the grid, Y/n Y/l/n! Pole position in her first race!”
“That’s P1 Y/n, congratulations,” your race engineer, Pedro, beamed as you crossed the finish line.
“Motherfuck Guanyu is fast mate, we need to watch out for him- oh, and the other Alpine boy that was trying to flirt with me, what’s his name?” you answered. The Prema garage was full of laughter as you outed Oscar.
“Oscar Piastri? No.2,” Pedro chuckled. “He failed to flirt with you?”
“Well, bless him, he tried to,” you chuckled as you parked the car. “He’s cute though.”
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“That’s P6 Oscar, and just to let you know, Y/n Y/l/n has outed you on the radio and on live television saying that you tried and failed to flirt with her,” his race engineer said.
Oscar laughed, finding the situation funny. “My mum’s going to tweet about that.”
“She also called you ‘cute’, if that helps with any bruised ego?”
Oscar’s face lit up under his helmet. “It definitely does,” he chuckled. “Thanks mate.”
“I’d wingman you any time,” he chuckled.
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Clip 3: Prema video
Prema Headquarters, Grisignano di Zocco, Italy, April.
“Hello everyone,” Robert smiled at the camera. “Today we will be going for a drive, I’d better call Oscar in.”
Oscar sat in the passenger seat and did his belt as they caught up and told the viewers what they’d be watching.
“So, today, you will be joining us for a drive around the Italian countryside,” Rob smiled. “And we will be answering your questions.”
“Let the questions begin,” Oscar added. He pulled one out of the bowl and read it aloud. “Who’s your favourite Prema team member?”
Rob smiled. “That’s hard, I love the whole Prema team so much, but… yeah, that’s hard. Maybe my race engineer, Fred? I get along quite well with him,” Rob giggled as Oscar nodded.
“What?” Oscar laughed.
“I know your favourite,” Rob smirked.
Oscar looked at him with a raised eyebrow. “Who?”
“La tua ragazza,” Rob chuckled as Oscar rolled his eyes. “What? It is true! You love her!” (La tua ragazza = your girl in Italian)
“I’ve met her once, mate!” Oscar laughed.
“So you don’t like her? I can ask her out?” Rob deadpanned.
“Well, no, you can't-” Oscar was cut off by Rob’s laughter and he decided to stop trying to fight him about it. Everyone on the team knew that Oscar Piastri was infatuated with you.
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Clip 4: Georgie O’Hara’s deleted youtube video.
Haileybury and Imperial Service College, England.
“Ok, that’s an awful idea!” Oscar yelled over his friends. “They already know you’re the ones doing it!”
“It’s fine! It’ll be fine!” Elijah, a good friend of his, smiled. They wanted to set off the fire alarms again, for the third time that week. Deodorant and stupid teenage boys did not mix, especially when they refused to put it on themselves and waste it on fire drills instead.
Georgie turned to his phone, addressing the viewers "Oscar's a goody-two-shoes, if you couldn't tell."
Suddenly his phone rang from an unknown number, and before he could leave it ring, Anthony (another friend of his) answered. “Oscar Piastri, incoming F2 champion’s phone, how may I help you?”
Oscar laughed, but suddenly stopped when he heard you.
“Not if I have anything to do with it,” you chuckled at his friend. “Anyways, can you just ask him to ask Elijah not to do the fire alarm thing between 11pm and 2am? The girls in my room and I are sneaking downstairs to watch a film and we don’t really want to get caught.”
Oscar covered his face and groaned, then took the phone off Georgie. “Hey-hi, Y/n. Yes, of course, we won’t do the fire alarm thing, ever again. Sorry.”
He turned his back as his friends made kissing noises and certain gestures at him.
“All good, thanks Osc,” you smiled. “You and your friends are welcome to join us if you want.”
Oscar could’ve sworn his heart stopped beating. “I’ll ask them,” he smiled. He turned to his friends. “Y/n’s inviting us all to a movie, we’re sneaking out tonight,” he informed them.
“I don’t want to-” Anthony started, but Georgie silenced him with a kick to the shin.
“Mate, this is Oscar’s one fucking chance with his girl, shut up,” He scoffed.
“Is that a yes?” You asked over the phone.
“Yes!” they all answered.
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As the night went on, you found yourself getting more and more tired. Oscar was beside you and you could tell how he was trying to play it cool, but failing miserably. You could practically see the way his heart leapt out of his chest when you held his hand. As ‘The Empire Strikes Back’ ended, you squeezed his hand before getting up and letting go.
“Alright, I’ll clean up, everyone else go back upstairs before you get caught,” you whispered. The ‘movie room’ as the students called it (it was technically the staff room but no one really cared) was a mess. Blankets, cups, wrappers and pillows were everywhere. The group slowly shuffled out as you were left with only Oscar. Georgie had forgotten about his camera and it was still recording where he’d put it down to get some shots of everyone watching the film.
“I can help,” Oscar whispered.
You shook your head. “Seriously, you go ahead. They already hate me at this school anyways,” you chuckled.
“Please let me help?” he asked again. You couldn’t exactly say ‘no’ to his puppy dog eyes, could you?
“Fine,” you smiled.
You two chatted quietly as you cleaned up the room, and finally met at the door to leave.
“I really enjoyed tonight-” You started, but you were cut off by Oscar kissing you. His arms wrapped around your waist and your arms wrapped around his neck once the initial shock wore off. You both pulled away after a few seconds. You stared up at him as his usually-blank face turned to one of panic.
“Sorry if that was forward, or-or weird- or-” He started, but now it was your turn to cut him off with a kiss.
He pulled back smiling, and he didn’t move his hands, or try to move away from you. There was a moment of silence. “Can I take you on a date?”
You chuckled. “Yes.”
Oscar was elated.
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Clip 5: Sky sports channel and Prema footage
Circuit de Monaco, Monaco, Monaco, May 22nd.
You were excited as you stepped onto the podium, victorious. It had been a difficult few laps at the end, Guanyu overtaking, then you overtaking, and over and over, but you got the chequered flag first. You were breaking records, breaking barriers as a woman in motorsports. You’d won Monaco, your first time racing there. In the Sprint, and the feature race. You were on top of the world. As you raised your trophy, the crowd cheered and Oscar was cheering the loudest.
You looked to your left, him standing on the podium for the first time this season, and you smiled.
“Feels good, huh?” you smirked.
“Feels great, but I’ll be coming for your step next,” he smirked.
“You wish Piastri,” you scoffed, then uncorked your champagne bottle and sprayed it on him and Zhou.
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Clip 6: Sky Sports channel, Prema footage
Autodromo Nazionale di Monza, Monza, 17th of July, Sprint Race.
“And it’s Y/n Y/l/n into the wall in a bad collision with Liam Lawson, only 2 laps till the end!”
Everything was in slow motion, one second you were in control, the next you were flipping into the wall.
“Red flag, red flag Oscar, huge crash in sector 3, come in, come in,” his race engineer said.
“Who was it?” He asked, slowing his pace.
“Y/l/n and Lawson, straight into the wall.”
“Is she ok? Is she out of the car?” he asked calmly.
“Not yet,” he answered grimly. The Prema garage was eerily silent as they watched the stewards struggle to get you out of the car.
As he came up on sector 3, he saw you. The car was upside down leaning against the barrier, they were putting out the fire. Shit. Shit. Shit.
You and Oscar had been dating for a few months now, and he really liked you. He passed by in horror as he saw that you weren’t out of the car yet. He was getting more and more nervous as the moments went on. He caught sight of Liam. He was out of the car. He beckoned Oscar over and he obliged, letting him hitch a ride back to the pitlane with him as he drove slowly. As they got back to the pitlane, they both jumped out as the race was finally deemed as cancelled, and the boys walked off, waiting for news.
“What happened?” he asked.
“It was a total mistake, my car had mad fucking oversteer and I just hit the throttle too hard, and then she was in the wall,” he answered. “She’s not even out yet.”
“She’ll be ok,” Oscar said, trying to convince himself as well as Liam. “She’s strong.”
Liam nodded, and went off to the RedBull garage with his head held low. Oscar walked into the Prema garage and his mom immediately pulled him in for a hug. Beside her was your parents, looking terrified.
“You’re ok, thank god,” she whispered. She didn’t care about the multiple cameras pointing at them, her son was alright.
“Is there any news yet?”
“They’ve pulled her out of the car,” your dad answered, eyes glued to the screen.
“Is she responsive?” Nicole asked.
“Yes!” You race engineer answered, happy that you were alive. There was a collective sigh of relief throughout the garage. “Complaining about lower back and leg pain, as well as a definite broken arm. She won’t be racing for a while,” he added, his tone becoming more and more sombre. Oscar watched as your mother broke down in your father’s arms, and he felt like throwing up. You wouldn’t be racing, you wouldn’t get to do the thing you loved.
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Clip 6: Prema video
ASST Brianza - Vimercate Hospital, 18th of July.
You woke up in blinding pain a few hours earlier. Everyone had worked so hard to make everything ok, to make you comfortable, but all night all you did was sob. The pain was unbearable in the car, you thought you were going to die, you thought you weren’t getting out of the car. 5 fractured vertebrae, 3 broken ribs, a fractured hip bone, and a broken arm apparently wasn’t a joke. No racing for the rest of the year. Your life was over.
“Fuck,” you whispered as you sat up and pain shot up your back.
“Hey,” Oscar’s soft voice brought you out of your upset, and back into the room. He took your hand. You felt bad, he’d been there the entire time, and honestly, he should probably be at the track already, ahead of today’s race. You’d tried to shoo him but he wasn’t having it, much more in favour of being with you and cluing you in on how your parents reacted to him being your boyfriend. Awkward. “Take your time.”
You nodded, grateful that he was there, then turned your attention to the camera Angelina had brought with her and set up to take a ‘statement’ video. “Hi Prema fans, and my fans. Yesterday was pretty rough, and with a heavy heart I have to tell you that I won’t be able to continue this season in F2. My back was badly damaged yesterday in my collision with Liam, which was a complete accident and not anyone's fault, and I definitely don’t blame Liam. I love racing, and I’ll still be at the majority of the races to support my teammates, and my boyfriend. This is just a very unfortunate event that pulls me out of the game for a while, but I’ll be back. I hope you miss me on track, and just know that I’m alright. Thank you for the support, bye for now, Prema family.”
Oscar wrapped his arms around you and smiled. “I’m the boyfriend,” he added, making you laugh.
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Clip 7: Prema footage
Jeddah Corniche Circuit, Jeddah, Saudi Arabia, 4th of December
“And Oscar Piastri sees the chequered flag first! Winning a sprint race and the feature race this weekend!”
You jumped up and down beside Chris, his father, as he came into the pitlane. He was the lead of the championship. He was going to win F2. No doubt about it.
The past 5 months had been difficult. You’d been back at school for a while, only now cleared to travel again, but you were happy to be back at the tracks. It felt good to watch Oscar win in person.
Chris wrapped his arms around you as you both celebrated. Oscar’s radio came on.
“God guys, good drive. Looks like Y/n is my lucky charm,” he laughed over the radio. The last races hadn’t gone so well for him, but he was straight back to winning with you here.
You were smiling the whole way to the barricade, but that ended when about 50 people were against your back, pushing violently. Chris and Mark were trying desperately to get them to back off, but they couldn’t stop them. You promised them you’d be ok, but the pain was getting unbearable, and Oscar hadn’t come over yet.
“Guys, move back!” He shouted as he ran over, just finished taking off his helmet. “Make some space!” The team obliged, but he still decided to be dramatic and lift you over the barrier. “You alright?” he asked, but you just wrapped your arms around him.
“You’re incredible Osc,” you smiled. “I love you so much.”
And there it was, out in the open for the first time. Too bad you forgot you both had microphones on.
He smiled wider than you ever thought possible for his face. “I love you too. So much baby,” he pressed a kiss to your cheek. “You should be up here with me,” he added and you nodded, it still being a sore subject. “And you will be. Next year.”
You nodded, grateful for the hope and support he offered you. “Go! Go to your team!” you laughed, pushing him on. Before he let you out of his grasp, he grabbed your waist and stole a sweet, quick kiss.
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Clip 8: Prema footage
Yas Marina Circuit, Abu Dhabi, 12th of December
He’d done it. He was the F2 champion. Sadly next year he would only get to be the Alpine F1 reserve driver, which meant no consistent racing, but that was still incredible.
You waited by the barricade as he came in, and he went straight over to you. He pulled his helmet off, then his bandana, and pulled you in for a kiss. The rest of the team ‘ohh’ed and ‘aww’ed but neither of you cared at all. He’d won.
“Congratulations F2 winner,” you smirked, pulling away.
“Thanks baby,” he smiled.
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Post-race interview
“So, how does this feel, Oscar?” she asked.
“It feels amazing, y’know, we’ve all worked so hard at this for the whole year and it’s just really special to have everyone here, especially my girlfriend Y/n. I’m missing her on track, so it’s good to still at least have her in the paddock,” he smiled, and the camera cut to you, beaming up at him.
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Clip 9: Prema footage and Sky Sports channel
Bahrain International Circuit, Sakhir, 19th of March, Sprint 1.
“We’re in the Prema garage,” Oscar explained to the camera in front of him. He was in full Alpine gear, being a reserve driver meant being a marketing machine, but this wasn’t for Alpine, this was for you. “And my girlfriend is about to go and do her first race back since the accident last season. Let’s go interview her about it!” He walked through the garage, searching for you, and finally found you. “Y/n! Any time for an interview?”
You turned to him and smiled. “I always have time for you,” you wrapped your arms around him, hugging him close. His grip on you was tight but you didn’t mind. You pulled away and turned to the camera.
“So, how does it feel to be back?” He asked.
“Amazing. I thought my life was over when I was told I wasn’t allowed to race for half a year.”
“And who helped nurse you back to health?” He smirked, batting his eyelashes at you.
“Your mom mostly,” you chuckled. You’d spent the entire off-season in Australia with Oscar and his family, and Nicole had been so considerate and careful about your healing injuries.
Oscar rolled his eyes. “Yeah… that’s probably true,” he chuckled. “How do you feel being on Pole?”
“It feels good. We just have to stay quick this season. I didn’t rush my healing just to lose,” you smiled then pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I’ve to get in the car now, love you,” you smiled. He wrapped an arm around your waist and pressed his lips to yours with a ‘good luck’, then let you go.
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“And can she do it? Yes she can! Y/n Y/l/n is coming in with a bang! A Sprint Pole and a Sprint win! That is a statement, ‘I never left’!”
“That’s P1 Y/n, well done!” Pedro called over the radio as the Prema garage went crazy.
“Thanks for everything guys, great car, great drive-”
“Great driver,” he added.
You pulled into the pitlane and got out of the car, celebrating as they got the photo of you on the car. You ran over to Oscar at the barricade as you pulled off your helmet and balaclava.
“That’s my girl!” he cheered as you pulled him in for a hug. “See? Nothing's changed.”
You pressed your lips to his. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” he smiled and pressed his lips to your cheek. “I’m loving this WAG lifestyle,” he chuckled.
You laughed. “It suits you.”
He chuckled. “Alright, you’re being called for the interview. Love you,” he smiled as you walked off, giving your hand a squeeze. You blew him a kiss back.
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Clip 10: Prema video
Prema Headquarters, Grisignano di Zocco, Italy.
You were laughing with Logan, doing a ‘Who knows who best’ challenge and both of you were failing miserably.
You put the headphones on and the music started, making it impossible to hear him. You watched as the room erupted in laughter, then Logan nudged you to take the headphones off.
“What is the most annoying thing about you?” He asked, holding back giggles.
“I know what you’d say,” you chuckled. “Me and Oscar.”
The room erupted in laughter as he nodded. “Exactly!”
“You’re just jealous,” you chuckled.
“Why? ‘Cause I don’t have a girlfriend?”
“No, because I have Oscar and you don’t,” you shot back, and everyone started laughing again.
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Clip 11: Sky Sports Channel
Yas Marina Circuit, Abu Dhabi, 20th of November
“And after a season of domination from the woman in red, Y/n Y/l/n sees the chequered flag first with a staggering 425 points! This F2 season will go down in history!”
You’d done it. You’d done it. You were an F2 champion, and next season you’d be in an F1 car fulltime, racing alongside Oscar, Logan, and Nick. You’d made it.
You jumped out of the car, amazed at your season. It’d been win after win, fastest lap after fastest lap, pole position after pole position. You’d worked so hard.
“You did it baby!” Oscar shouted as you ran over. You jumped into his arms, and let him hold you up. He looked at you like you held the sky up, like you were the greatest thing on the planet. “You’re incredible.”
“I couldn’t have done it without you,” you smiled. “ I love you so much.”
“I love you so much more,” he pressed kisses to any inch of skin he could, more than proud to be yours.
You chuckled as he tickled you with his kisses, before you realised that you needed to go fulfil your duties. He put you down, but before you could leave, he grabbed your waist again. “I love you.”
“I love you too, Osc.”
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Clip 12: Sky Sports channel, McLaren footage, and RedBull footage
Bahrain International Circuit, Sakhir, 2023.
“A disappointing result for Oscar Piastri, but an incredible run for Y/n Y/l/n, P1 in her first race! I’m sure he’ll be pleased with that for his long-time girlfriend!”
Oscar was pissed off, but his mood was lifted by your result. You were incredible. He cheered in his own garage, happy for your win. You’d won your first race. Who else did that? The first woman to ever do so.
He was in awe of you.
He exited his garage, ready to see you after your win. He saw you getting out of the car and running straight into the arms of your team and he smiled. He finally caught your eye after some time, and you ran over, wrapping your arms around him.
“I’m so sorry,” were the first words out of your mouth. “If I could trade our cars, I would Osc, I really would,” you sighed.
“Don’t even joke about that. Don’t make your first win about me. This is about you, my brilliant, incredible, winner,” he pressed his lips to yours in a short, victory kiss. “I love you, yeah?” “I love you too,” you smiled.
“You were amazing out there,” he smiled.
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Clip 13: McLaren video
Jeddah Corniche Circuit, Jeddah, Saudi Arabia
“Who is your teammate's favourite person?” Lando asked, then looked at the camera and rolled his eyes. “Oscar’s is Y/n because he’s a traitor.”
Oscar burst into laughter and looked at Lando. “That’s not fair! We started dating as teammates!”
“Oh sure Osc!” Lando sighed, playing up the drama. “That’s what they all say.”
“But it’s the truth!”
“Anyways, moving on from Oscar and his traitor girlfriend, who’s my favourite person Oscar?”
“Max Fewtrell?”
Lando thought about it for a moment, then nodded. “Him or my parents or siblings.”
Oscar took another question out of the bowl and chuckled. “What’s the other person’s red flag?”
Little did he know, you’d come in to visit him and were actively sneaking up behind him.
“Yours is your refusal to ever use a hairbrush,” you answered for Lando, and Oscar jumped, making everyone laugh, especially Lando, who fell off his chair. You chuckled and wrapped your arms around Oscar's neck from behind, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “Came to say hi,” you smiled, kissing his cheek.
“Came to air out my business online?” He questioned, laughing. He took your hands and led you around his chair, sitting you on his lap. “When did you get in?” he asked, resting his head on your shoulder as Lando tried to compose himself.
“Just now, came straight from the airport,” you nodded, leaning back against him.
“Bad flight?”
“Nah, I was on Max’s jet. He’s offered me to ask you two if you want to go back to Monaco after this weekend with him. I am,” you answered. He nodded, gently playing with your hands as he listened to you.
“Sounds good to me,” he smiled. “Tell him ‘thanks’, yeah?”
You nodded. “‘Course,” you got up to leave but he pulled you down by the arm and pressed your lips together quickly, then let you go. “Love you,” you called after yourself.
“Love you too,” he called back, ready to get back to the interview.
“Can we keep that in?” Ellie, their marketing manager asked.
He shrugged. “Sure, why not.”
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Clip 14: Hattie Piastri’s tiktok vlog
Piastri residence, Melbourne, 2023
“Y/n’s over there with Oscar, and Addie is with May and mum and dad are with Tim over there,” she explained to the camera pointing everything out. In the video you and Oscar were laying on the grass in the setting sun, utterly exhausted from your weekend of racing where you’d gotten p2 and Oscar had gotten p8. His arms were wrapped around you as you lay on top of him, smiling.
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Clip 15: Sky Sports channel, RedBull footage and Nicole Piastri’s instagram
Circuit Zandvoort, Zandvoort, Holland
“And can she do it? Yes she can! Y/n Y/l/n beats teammate Max Verstappen to first place, and she sees the chequered flag first! What an incredible season this has been for the rookie!”
As you crossed the finish line, you almost felt sick. You’d beaten Max, giving you a lead in the Driver’s Championship. He’d been 10 points ahead. Now, you were 15 points ahead of him.
“That’s P1, P1 Y/n congratulations,” Pedro smiled.
“Thanks Pedro, and thanks everyone, really well done. Car is perfect, thank you all so much!”
“And Oscar’s P9, if you're wondering.”
“When I get my fucking hands on Zak Brown I will rip his fake fucking toupée off for giving him such a shit car,” You groaned. “Great drive guys, thanks.”
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You walked into the paddock as they all cheered both you and Max on. Max had gotten P2, unhappy with not winning, but not mad that you’d won. He saw what you were doing for motorsports all around the world, how much pressure you were under as the first female driver in a long time, and how hard you were working. He wasn’t going to make your life harder by being an asshole off the track too. He gave you a celebratory hug and moved onto his driver’s room, as you stayed out with the engineers, chatting and celebrating with them.
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Nicole Piatri’s instagram live
“Hi everyone, Osc and I are right now, trying to sneak into the RedBull garage to see Y/n,” Nicole explained and behind her, Oscar smiled and put both thumbs up.
“I’m going to be told off for this by Zak, so, sorry Zak. I want to see my girlfriend, my bad,” he chuckled, his apology only half-assed.
Nicole and him continued faffing around the paddock for a while, until Nicole caught your eye through the window. You ran over to the door beside them and let them in, pulling Nicole in for a huge hug as Oscar waited behind her with a wide smile.
He spoke to the live. “Apparently my girlfriend likes my mum better than me-"
You cut him off with a kiss as you laughed at his antics. “Shut the fuck up,” you chuckled. “You’re such a baby.”
“I missed seeing you in the conference,” he shrugged, holding you close as his mum took the phone and documented this moment between the two of you. “I love you,” he smiled.
“I love you too,” you chuckled, kissing his cheek. “P9? Not bad.”
He rolled his eyes and smiled. “P1? Not bad,” he lifted you into his arms making you squeal.
“Osc! Put me down!” You squealed.
“Let me win next time,” he chuckled. “Then I’ll put you down.”
“What do you want me to do? Switch our cars?”
“Ideally,” he chuckled, kissing your cheek and putting you down. “But I guess I’ll settle for watching you be gorgeous on the podium every week.”
“The fans are loving this!” Christian joked as he watched over Nicole’s shoulder, seeing how the chat was going crazy.
You both turned to Nicole with confused faces.
“You’re still filming mum?!”
This live has now been ended by the host.
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Clip 16: Sky sports channel
Lusail International Circuit, Lusail, Qatar
“Oscar Piastri has done the job brilliantly, the Australian driver will see the chequered flag first! Oscar Piastri wins the sprint to take McLaren to the top step once again!”
“That’s P2 Y/n, Oscar P1,” Pedro announced.
“WOOOOO!” You screamed, elated for him. “Fucking legend!”
“I said P2 for you,” he reminded.
“Shut up and be happy for him, just once,” you chuckled, pulling into the pit lane to park. You watched as Oscar got out of the car as you got out of your own car. Immediately, he ran over to you, wrapping you up in his arms as you celebrated together.
“You did it!” You shouted, jumped around in each other's arms. “You’re fucking incredible.”
“You put up a good fucking fight,” he chuckled, smiling like a kid.
“You’re going to look so sexy at the top of the podium,” you smirked and he blushed hard.
“I wish you wouldn’t say stuff like that in public,” he chuckled, then hid his face in your neck as you laughed.
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Post-sprint conference
“So, this is a question for Y/n and Oscar,” an interviewer started. Both of you looked up, exhausted from the late night race. “Does your relationship prohibit you from racing to your full potential? I believe Y/n, you could’ve caught up. Did you give him this win?”
You scoffed, appalled that anyone would have the audacity to ask such a thing. “For fuck’s sake,” you sighed. “No. I couldn’t have. You know how you know that? Because I would’ve if I could’ve. I love Oscar, and I’ve loved him since I was about 14 years old, but that doesn’t mean that I let him win. He’s a ridiculously talented driver, and a fucking genius with strategy. His car is great too. But out there today? That was pure talent. I can love him, and wholeheartedly race him too,” you answered, getting annoyed at the comments like these you two constantly got. “And another thing, I’m getting really fucking sick of the questions about our relationship. Do you really think we’d be together if we couldn’t race each other and not come back to each other and be proud of each other? Seriously? Where is your critical thinking?”
The room was full of whispered conversation as you dropped the last diss, and beside you Oscar was looking at you with huge heart eyes. Anyone could see it from a mile away, he loved you. He chuckled, wanting to add his two cents as well. “Yeah, exactly. The only thing she lets me win in is chess, right?” He looked at you with a smirk and you rolled your eyes.
“You won once, asshole,” you chuckled, pushing his hand off your thigh.
“Then we stopped playing,” he shrugged, a cocky smirk very-present on his face.
“We ran out of time,” you shrugged, feigning innocence.
He cocked an eyebrow. “Sure.”
The tension in the room had been dissolved in the comedic moment, and you were thankful for Oscar’s calm exterior. You moved closer to him on the couch, and he wrapped an arm around you, smiling wide as you pressed a kiss to his hand, the one closest to your face.
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Clip 17: Drive to Survive
Yas Marina Circuit, Abu Dhabi
“How are you feeling?” Oscar asked, sitting in your driver’s room with you before the race. He knew how worried you were, how much you wanted this. You had to win. You and Max were neck and neck. You just had to get more points than him, starting from P2.
You sighed, standing between his legs and messing with his hair, favouring trying not to think about it rather than talking about it. He grabbed ahold of your waist and pressed his face into your torso, pressing kisses to wherever he could reach, trying to make you laugh.
You chuckled and pushed him away, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “I’m alright, I promise. Just stressed.”
“You won’t be stressed in a week,” he smiled. “We’ll be in Melbourne.”
You smiled, and kissed him again. “We will. Waves and relaxing. Nothing else.”
“Well, and Logan,” he chuckled. “So… ‘Merica and all that,” he smiled as you laughed at his bad joke. He got you down to his lap and he pressed a kiss to your cheek. “You’ve got this, don’t worry.”
“Wow, anxiety cured,” you replied sarcastically, making him laugh.
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Clip 18: Sky Sports Channel
Yas Marina Circuit, Abu Dhabi
“And it is an incredible season for the first female in modern F1, Y/n Y/l/n sees the chequered flag first, with a Driver’s Championship 1-2 with her teammate Max Verstappen! This makes her the first female ever to win the F1 Driver’s Championship title! What an inspiration!”
You’d done it. You won your rookie season. You were World Champion. You were a legend.
“WOOOOO!” You screamed as tears rolled down beneath your hemet. “We did it! We did it!”
“We did it!” Pedro screamed. You knew the entire RedBull garage was going crazy right now. “You did it Y/n!”
“Thank you, everyone! This would’ve been impossible without you all! Amazing year! Incredible work!” you beamed.
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“That’s P6, P6 Oscar,” his race engineer announced.
“Did Y/n get it? Did she win?”
“Yes, your girl is a World Champion,” he smiled.
“YES! YES! THAT’S MY FUCKING GIRL!” he screamed, elated at the news. He knew you could do it. He’d always known you could do it.
He rushed to get to the pit lane, ready to celebrate with you. He jumped out of the car and pulled off his helmet as fast as he could, watching as you ran over to him.
“You did it!” He cheered. “My fucking girl.”
“I did it!” You cried, over the moon. “I couldn’t have done it without you,” you smiled.
His eyes filled with tears as his heart swelled with pride. “You’re amazing. I love you so much Y/n.”
Neither of you cared about the cameras around you as you went in for a kiss. You didn’t care about how sweaty and gross you both were, you didn’t care about the grief that the pr team would give you, you didn’t care.
You were a World Champion. He was your everything. You were his everything.
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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)
#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#formula 1 x you#formula one imagine#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri#oscar piastri x you#formula one x reader#formula 1#formula one#mclaren#oscar piastri x fem!reader#f1 fluff
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A Forbidden Invitation
Pairing: Best Friend’s Dad!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader
Word Count: 11.5k
Summary: You think a one night stand from the summer, the best fuck of your life, is a done deal — a single, heated encounter that now lives vividly in your memories. But you learn that your actions have consequences when you befriend a new student, starting in the new term, and she invites you over to meet her Dad.
Warnings: Age gap, flashback, betrayal of friendship, manipulation, coercion, reader has severe daddy issues and self esteem problems, derogatory names, daddy kink, praise kink, smut, kissing, nipple play, blowjob, throat fucking, choking, fingering, pussy slapping, p in v sex, squirting.
Author’s Note: Unbeta’d, warning graphics and dividers by @rookthorne
“Come on, babe!” Rebecca whined at the edge of your bed. “You’re telling me a weekend away from this shithole doesn’t sound good?”
It had been a whole hour of your friend begging you to come back home with her for your midterm break and while you usually had the patience of a saint, it was difficult to keep composed as she refused to back down to your unacceptable reasoning.
You sighed, finally closing your laptop with an inwards huff and coming to terms that you would not be getting any more work done. Blowing out a breath, you leveled your gaze onto her.
“Becs,” you treaded carefully, mindful of her feelings. “It’s very sweet of you. But, I really need to get my work finished.” Rebecca’s face fell sullen and you rushed to explain. “I just like my time alone, y'know? I concentrate better.”
Her brunette hair fell over her eyes as she bowed her head. This girl really knew how to put on a show and you playfully rolled your eyes at her dramatics. But as she lifted her head with a pout and her wide, shining ocean blues, you knew you were done for.
Oh no. The puppy eyes.
“Hey!” You pointed at her. “No—stop that! I’m not changing my mind.”
The intensity of her stare only worsened while she slowly gained on you. “But what am I gonna tell my Dad when he asks when you’re not there?”
“Wait.” Clarity hit you then and you held your hand up to stop your friend in her tracks. With a glare you questioned, “Did you already say I was coming?”
The guilty twitch of her eye said it all. “Maybe—“
“Becca!”
“I couldn’t help it!” she swore. “My dad invited you, I couldn’t tell him no.”
“He invited me?” you asked, surprised.
“Yeah. The day we met, he called to see how I was doing—asked if I had made any new friends.”
She shrugged. “We’ve moved around a lot ever since I can remember and trying to fit in somewhere…” Her voice suddenly grew quiet as she solemnly whispered, “I’ve never had a real friend before. You’re the only one who’s been able to stick around for so long and he really wants to meet you.”
The frustration embedded in you faded out to make way for the sudden ache in your heart. To your knowledge, Rebecca was a new student who transitioned to your college in the middle of the recent school year. Both of you had a couple of classes together and the first time you ever saw her still reigned fresh in your mind.
The doors to the auditorium crashed open as she stumbled in late and out of breath to her first class. Strands of her brown hair fell from the messy bun on the top of her head and her cheeks coloured bright red; it pained you to watch her embarrassment as a room of over a hundred stared at her, along with the professor. And so began your friendship when you rushed out of your seat to help her with her huge stack of books, ushering her to the back to sit next to you.
Since then the two of you had been inseparable. Rebecca was a genuine, lovely girl — sweet and a breath of fresh air to your college life. She never failed to let you know how appreciative she was to your kindness of friendship, so even though you had only known her for a short while, it felt as though she was a true friend; one who would be staying around for a while.
Sighing in defeat, there was no way you could decline the offer after hearing she had been gushing over you to her Dad. “Okay, okay—Fine. I’ll come— AH!”
You squealed as she leapt onto you, knocking you back against your mattress as she profusely thanked you while vibrating with joy. The giggles and uncontrolled laughter that filled your room masked the unexplainable dread knotted in your stomach. But not wanting to tarnish Rebecca’s excitement, you let go of your worries for the time being.
Going to the club alone wasn’t an activity you made a habit out of; you understood the dangers of your vulnerability to men who couldn’t take a hint.
However, that summer night — a hazy memory now in the present — forbade common sense and instead, threw it out of the window. Not to be seen again until you woke up the next day.
The stress of the week had gotten too much for you; too many assignments needing to be handed in at once, your parents bombarding you with passive aggressive texts about their ongoing disappointment with you and the cherry on top of it all, you had caught your boyfriend cheating on you with the girl he had sworn you had nothing to worry about.
So of course, that week in particular had tested you. But instead of moping around your dorm room, your mind unhelpfully persisted with the motion to get shitfaced drunk and allow future you to worry about your problems. In the moment, you thought that to be your most genius idea of the week — letting your hair down in a sweaty nightclub around people you didn’t know and not caring about the consequences sounded perfect.
In hindsight, it was probably one of your most beautiful mistakes.
You remembered it all clearly. The newfound freedom of not giving a fuck, the humid air with the bass of the speakers invading your ears — every small detail added to the atmosphere as you were in your own world in the middle of the dancefloor, erotically swaying your hips side to side and running your hands through your hair.
The short cocktail dress you had worn to make yourself feel good illuminated your curves while also giving you the liberty to dance without limit to your movement. You wanted to forget for a while — go crazy and let loose.
Which was why the stunning pair of cerulean eyes that pinned you down across the room from the bar was your ticket to a night of fun — everything you needed at the moment in time. From your vantage point, the stranger looked to be in his forties, but in the best way possible. His form was built, the right amount of muscle carrying his frame and his grown out brown locks tucked behind his ears. No one had ever looked more sexy to you.
Aware of being the center of attention to an attractive stranger, you smoothed your hands down from your hair, seductively over your neck, teasing your glowing skin and finally to your chest. You bit your lip when his hungry stare that soaked your lace underwear focused on your tits, overspilling from your dress and you watched, smug and exhilarated as the unknown man tightened his fist against his tight trouser cladded thighs.
Through the whole night, the delightful burn of his stare never left you. A brand was marked into your skin; a warning to everyone else that you were spoken for — only for the night at least.
If you ordered a drink at the bar, the stranger was a couple of seats down from you, greedily lapping up your figure. If you were sitting in the smokers area, catching your breath and cooling down, he was there too, leaning against the brick wall smoking a cigarette with his attention solely focused on you, no matter the amount of women who were not so discreetly throwing themselves over him.
Even at the end of the night, as you once again danced to the deep bass of the beat among everyone else, he watched you from his own corner, still as enamored with you as the first time your eyes met.
Adrenaline spiked your veins. It was addicting to be the object of someone’s desires, to be seen.
You had only spoken through heated looks and loaded glances, but he was unlike any man you had encountered before. Mysterious and cryptic. You were just as lost in him as he was into you and you couldn’t have cared less that he was obviously older than you. It was what you needed. He was what you needed.
The buzz from the few shots you had taken reached their peak and you decided it was now or never to claim what you so rightfully deserved.
With a bounce in your step, you strutted in your heels through the crowd of people, never taking your eyes off your prize and him neither. He licked his lips as you closed the distance, stopping just before you bumped into the tip of his shoes.
“Listen,” you spoke over the music, determined and resolute. “I’m gonna skip past the pleasantries and bullshit.” The allured stranger raised his eyebrow, intrigued. “You want me and I definitely want you. So, do you want to get out of here?”
Your bravery faltered slightly as you realised in his close proximity how direct you had been. While you were almost certain this stranger was as attracted to you as you were to him, the tiny seed of doubt that a mature man wouldn’t want to hook up with someone as young as you revoked your liquid courage.
But that worry soon disappeared when he gave you a fierce once over now you were up close. A raging storm of lust and desire clouded his beautiful eyes, wild and desperate to get his hands on you. Your breaths came in quick and heavy as he smirked so sinfully. The bastard knew he held so much power in the palm of his hands when his body towered over yours, the difference in size between you not hard to miss. There you could tell the fun had already begun.
The rest of the club became a blur as he brought his mouth down to your ear. You felt each slow and steady breath against the curve of your neck and you were sure even in the darkness, he noticed the goosebumps that littered your skin. “All I need you to know tonight is my name.” His voice was as sexy as you had imagined, a deep, rasped husk that made your legs weak. But it was his next words that almost made you collapse. “Because it’s the only thing you’re gonna be screamin’ for the rest of the night, darlin’.”
Your mind grew foggy at the next sequence of events. The hustle of getting into a car and fiercely making out in the backseat until you arrived at an upscale hotel. Everything happened so fast. One minute you were waiting impatiently at the reception desk and the next you were stumbling into a lavish hotel room, unable to keep your hands off each other as items of clothing flew across the room in your haste to get naked.
The two of you bumped into the array of furniture in the hallway, the thought of tearing away from each other's lips unbearable. Bucky, you learned was his name, was an amazing kisser, his tongue gently teased yours as he threaded his fingers through your hair and he kept a firm grip of your cheeks like he was desperate to keep you close.
“Fuck,” he slurred between kisses. “You’re so— fuckin’— gorgeous.” His eagerness to keep his lips against yours while complimenting you spun you for a loop, unfamiliar to this kind of intensity.
The clink of dog tags were the culprit to halt your motions while he kept on kissing you, traveling down the slope of your neck and to your shoulders to bite your skin. As he was occupied, you took your chance to admire his physique. For a man his age, he was jacked — a toned stomach with several abs sharp enough to cut and two deliciously slender grooves running underneath his trousers to a bulge big enough for you to let an unhinged moan escape.
His body was sickening, he truly had no business to look as good as he did for a man his age. But like hell were you going to complain when all the boys at college disappointed you time and time again. The bar was low and this man had already exceeded your expectations, he was only supposed to be an idea fit for your wildest fantasies. Yet, there he was, real and existing.
Time was of the essence and you wasted none of it as you ripped yourself out of his hold, left in only your underwear, and dropped to your knees without pause to hurriedly remove his belt.
“Oh, shit.” He gulped. “Baby— baby—you don’t have to do that—“
You hushed his assurances and batted away his hands that tried to pull you up without real effort. “No, I don’t have to. But I want to.” Fluttering your eyes, you looked up at him and slyly smirked. “Let me suck your cock. You just worry about having a good time.” With a wink, you unlooped the expensive leather through the buckle and dropped it to the floor, soon after working to unzip his fly and rid him of the offending trousers that stood in your way.
The material slid down his thick thighs and he was left stood in his underwear, black briefs tented from his hard cock. A frenzied need to soothe the urge to get your mouth around him took the reins when you instantly nuzzled into his crotch.
“Fuck me, you’re a needy little slut aren’t you?” He wrapped your hair into a ponytail around his fist, controlling your movements. Though, there was no reason to, eager as you were. You would have done anything he asked.
You did do anything he asked.
You hummed while suckling the tip of his cock over the material of his underwear, “Mhm.” He threw his head back and groaned like a wild beast while you admired the wet patch growing on the fabric before your very eyes. It was unhinged — raw. But your stranger of the night didn’t seem to care, too fucked out as his eyes rolled back from pleasure.
Unable to control your burst of desire, you suddenly shucked his briefs down.
Your mouth fell open at the sheer size of him, an audible gasp echoed over the silence of the marble walls. Never had you seen a dick as pretty or big before and the drool that had gathered in your mouth began to leak out the side of your mouth.
You were aching for him.
With a cocky smile, the man tapped under your chin twice to direct your head upwards. “Up here, darlin’—I want those pretty eyes on me when you take my cock.”
Immediately opening your mouth wide and sticking your tongue out for him, he chuckled breathily at the crazed look in your dilated pupils. “Well, aren’t you just the biggest whore I ever did see.” Grabbing his cock and pressing the tip onto your tongue, he began to slide it forward. “Good fuckin’ job I like ‘em that way. Now open up wide so I can fuck your throat, baby—”
“Babe!”
Jolting out of your memory infused dream with a shriek, you span your head around to Rebecca in the drivers seat of her car. “Oh, there you are!” she hissed, teasingly. “I called for you like ten times. Where the fuck did you go?”
You swallowed the dryness coating your throat and hastily sat up. A hot sweat had settled over your skin and you immediately grabbed your water bottle from the footwell and chugged it down.
Once you had cooled down, you glanced back at your friend, cringing at the raised eyebrow that meant you weren’t getting out of an explanation. “I, uh— I’m sorry I didn’t—um—get much sleep last night,” you lamely replied.
The unimpressed expression on her face told you she didn’t believe you. But you were saved when her face suddenly lit up with glee. “Eek! We’re finally here!”
Had a three hour drive really gone by that fast?
Looking out the car window, your eyes widened when you saw an estate, guarded by iron gates around the whole property, surrounded by acres upon acres of land. You couldn’t tear your eyes away, even when Rebecca began animatedly speaking with someone by the toll station.
Who the fuck was this girl?
Eventually, she pulled up to the house, passing the stone driveway with a water fountain in the middle and cut the engine off. “Come on, you. My Dad’s expecting us.”
You were in a daze while you opened your door, stepping out the car and taking in every inch of the property. You would have never guessed your friend, the most down to earth and humble person on campus, had a lavish lifestyle with all the trimmings. It was clear she didn’t feel the need to brag about her privilege and her nonchalant attitude about it only baffled you more.
The doors to the mansion suddenly swung open and what you could only have presumed to be a butler promptly rushed towards the car. “Miss Barnes, how lovely to see you again.”
Rebecca scoffed and hugged the man without hesitation. “Don’t be silly. You know you don’t call me that.”
Even with her sweetness, he remained as professional then ever and brushed by her to pick up her bags. “Of course, Miss Barnes. Your father is out at the minute, but he has left you a gift by the entryway table.”
With a high pitched scream, your friend ran inside without looking back. It was hard not to smile at her carefree ways and trying to shake the deepening apprehensiveness from the moment Rebecca invited you, you rounded to the boot of the car to grab your luggage.
“That won’t be necessary, ma’am.” The butler immediately stepped forward and swiftly picked up your bags along with Rebecca’s with ease.
“Oh, no that’s okay, honestly! I can bring them in no problem!” You tried detesting, not used to any kind of special treatment.
But it was no use as he kindly insisted, “There is no need to worry. Please relax and join your friend, I believe there is a gift for you too.”
Sighing, you yielded and eventually followed in your friend’s steps, twiddling your fingers anxiously while you walked into the foyer of the mansion.
Carefully crafted marble walls with what you could only guess were decorated with millions of dollars worth of extravagant paintings, lined up neatly up to the grand, spiral staircase where a round oak table sat in front of it.
You instantly spotted two gift baskets, difficult to miss as they were both filled to the brim with an assortment of treats and bright pink tissue paper.
Rebecca was already busy appreciating hers, taking care to read the note her father had presumably left her and gushing over the copious amount of sweet treats, new nightwear and a cashmere blanket, like this wasn’t a regular occurrence to her.
However, it was surprising to see you had also been spoiled; all of your favourites, intricately placed in the hamper. Your eye caught the note addressed with your name on and hesitantly, you reached out for it and unfolded the card — a simple yet polite message inside.
I can only apologise that I wasn’t here upon your arrival.
I’ve heard great things about you from my Becs and I sincerely look forward to meeting you when I’m home.
Please make yourself comfortable and enjoy the contents of your gift basket.
J.B.B.
“Oh, he’s the best,” Rebecca swooned, hugging the white blanket to her chest. “He said he got called into work for a couple of hours so he should be back tonight.
You exhaled, flitting your eyes over your new gifts. The information eased your nerves slightly — you were never any good at meeting parents, whether that be of friends or partners. The dynamic of a happy household wasn’t one you had experience with and the idea of ruining first impressions caused an anxiety you didn’t particularly care to revisit often. Especially now that Rebecca had come into your life — a friend you could absolutely see yourself building a strong bond with.
Realising you had been silent for too long, you spoke up, “Your Dad is very kind.” Your fingers inched forward and ran over the soft material of your very own matching cashmere blanket, it felt like you were touching a cloud. From the corner of your eye, you caught your friend suddenly looking sheepish. “What’s wrong?” you asked, turning towards her.
“I’m sorry about all of this.” She vaguely gestured her hand up in the air, to which you guessed she meant the sheer amount of money that screamed in your face. “I didn’t warn you and I should have. It's just that—” Rebecca’s eyes darted down and she crossed her arms over her stomach, shrinking in on herself.
You stepped closer, rubbing your hand over her arm for comfort. “Hey, it’s okay. You can tell me.”
She took a deep breath before lifting her gaze to you and shrugging. “I didn’t know if your intentions would be good if you knew about the money.”
“Oh, Becs.” Your heart ached at the obvious trauma from her past. Squeezing her arm, you attempted to uplift the sullen mood with some playful teasing. “I became your friend because I couldn’t get rid of you. Although, now it doesn’t hurt to know your family is loaded.”
Reluctantly, the smile grew on her face, turning into a bright grin she no longer could hide. “You’re awful.”
“Tell me about it.” You winked, nudging her hip with your own. “Seriously, you’re a good person and I’m your friend because I want to be. I couldn’t give a fuck if you’re rich.”
The muscles of her body relaxed and she quickly pulled you into a hug. “Thank you, babe.”
“It’s nothing, silly.” You squeezed her one last time before breaking away.
Rebecca sniffled, blinking away the onslaught of tears that were close to falling before cheerfully grabbing her basket. “Come on then, let’s go set up and order some pizza.”
Picking up your own basket, you followed your friend up to her room.
The few hours spent working on your assignments, eating pizza and listening to music flew by. Spending so much time with Rebecca actually turned out to be fun. You usually spent all your free time by yourself, respiting into a hermit because of your inability to enjoy friendly companionship.
But it was to your surprise that you found yourself not regretting agreeing to the trip. The thought of being back at your dorm, wasting your night away by sleeping, watching trash tv and succumbing to the vibator in your bedside drawer begging you to relive a night of passion now seemed sad as you glanced at your friend and the corner of your lip curled up.
That bubble burst quickly when a shout coming from the foyer echoed up to the open bedroom door. “Rebecca, sweetheart—I’m home!”
Instantly, her eyes widened and she shoved the laptop she was using off her lap at once, squealing with joy before leaping off the bed and running downstairs. “Dad!”
Your fingers twitched over the keyboard of your own laptop in anticipation, looking towards the door and sighing in resignation.
Decidingly, you thought it was best to give your friend a moment with her father. Not at all because you wanted to prolong the inevitable as long as possible.
But as a couple of minutes went by, the tick of the pink clock on the desk getting louder and louder by the second, you figured your absence would go noticed and so you begrudgingly shut the lid of your laptop to slowly begin making your way out of the room.
As you reached the balcony at the top of the staircase, you looked down just as Rebecca hugged her Dad tightly. An ache panged in your heart.
You weren’t close with your parents; neither of them checked up on you or asked when you’d be coming home to see them. They only contacted you when they felt like spewing their badly-hidden resentment towards you and the hurt you thought you had buried long ago began to make its way front and center.
You shook your head and cleared your throat. You wouldn’t do this, wouldn’t tarnish your stay with your friend over something so silly — or be scared to meet her parent. So with a deep breath, you glided down the steps.
Rebecca’s Dad had his back turned to you, which meant you only saw his thick head of hair, tucked neatly behind his ears and the muscles of his back straining against the white dress shirt he wore.
You were unable to pinpoint the exact reason a tingle started to form in your lower stomach, the sensation extremely familiar by now, but you immediately scolded yourself and pinched the skin of your thigh to snap out of whatever mood had caused such depravity. This was your friend’s father; get it together.
As you reached the bottom of the steps, your friend’s eyes locked onto yours and her whole face beamed. “Dad,” she gasped excitedly. “I want you to meet my friend.”
You steeled your features; the warmest smile you could manage with the straightest posture possible.
Time stood still when Rebecca stepped back to let her Dad turn around. Your emotions were all under control and you finally felt like you could do this.
But that was until your eyes met and your face dropped. Those blue eyes, those damn blue eyes, you would remember them anywhere.
Bile began to rise in your throat when he faced you completely. Suddenly, you were thrown back to that forbidden night that all started with the same man across the room by the bar, watching you like you were his last meal. Bucky.
You held back a loud gasp, aware that Rebecca was witnessing the interaction. Though, your blood ran cold when his lips lifted into a grin, one you knew a little too well.
The palms of your hands were clammy with sweat and your heart hammered inside your chest. You weren’t sure how to play this, the stifling silence had already been stretched out ridiculously.
Rebecca’s voice broke the quiet with an awkward chuckle. “Sorry Dad, we’re a little stumped. Exams have been kicking our asses lately and the drive over was long.”
Guilt crippled you then. While you could never have known the one night stand who invaded your thoughts daily would turn out to be your best friend's father, it still didn’t change anything — you fucked her Dad.
He finally took his eyes away from you to swing an arm around his daughter and laughed in fondness. “Don’t worry, I understand, Becs—you girls must be exhausted.” He then lifted his gaze back to you. “You must be the one she hasn’t stopped talking about.”
You swallowed the lump in your throat. He doesn’t remember you? The lack of expression or recognition instilled a sense of hope within you.
Maybe he had forgotten about your night together — the low lighting of the club you met him at and the haze of alcohol hindering your senses as he took you to a hotel created a perfection concoction of forgetfulness you rationalised.
Eventually, deciding to act oblivious and hope for the best, you stammered up the courage to introduce yourself. “M—Mr Barnes. Thank you for letting me stay in your home.”
“Oh none of that, please.” A shiver raced down your spine, memories of begs and whimpers taunting your mind. “I’m James. But call me Bucky, darlin’.”
It took all the strength you had to trap the moan on the verge of escaping your lips. Yep, you definitely remembered that name.
Rebecca’s Dad stuck out his hand in front of you. “I’m very happy to meet you.” Your eyes darted between his hand and his face and then to your friend. Steadying your breath, you hesitantly placed your hand into his and felt his fingers tighten against yours. He shook your hand, his thumb gliding over your skin.
Tightening your lips in anguish, you replied, “V—Very happy to meet you, too.”
Bucky’s touch lingered against yours until you snatched your hand out of his when Rebecca hopped giddily and clapped her hands. “Oh, this is great! This weeks going to be so fun!”
You didn’t return the sentiment. This week was going to be your worst nightmare come to life — your biggest mistake being dangled on a string in front of you, only reminding you what a piece of shit you were.
“Okay, Dad. We’re gonna catch up on a little more work, so I’ll come find you later.” Your friend grabbed your hand that was limped by your side and started to pull you back up the stairs.
“Hard workers, ain’t you?” he laughed. “If you need anything let me know.”
“Thanks Dad, will do!” Rebecca shouted back down the stairs.
When you had reached the first landing balcony, you couldn’t help sneaking one more tiny glance at the one night stand you never thought you would see again. But your heart skipped a beat as you saw him already looking up at you and he slid his hand out of his suit pocket to wave at you before you disappeared.
You were sitting on Rebecca’s bed, waiting for her return when the inevitable happened.
An emergency she called it, when she slipped her feet into her shoes and swiftly threw on her hoodie, claiming an issue with her neighbour she absolutely needed to handle.
You had tried insisting on going with her, an extra pair of hands to help out. But she instantly pushed away your pleas, telling you not to worry and to focus on your work. That was Becca, a true sweetheart. But you wanted to strangle her then, scold her for leaving you in uncharted territory by yourself.
Nervous and on edge, you couldn’t concentrate on your assignment for the longest time. You consistently made quick glances to the open door of your friend’s bedroom, listened for footsteps upon the landing. Soon enough though, your nerves died down when nothing happened and it allowed you to focus on your laptop, finally becoming fixated on your assignment.
The only unusual thing that caught you off guard by yourself was the sudden heat of the house. You had built up a sweat in your hoodie and, unable to handle it, you took the fleeced material off in a swift flourish, leaving you in a tank top and shorts.
Other than that, you powered through, happy to be finally getting somewhere with your work. You weren’t even sure how much time had passed since Rebecca had left and the worry of how long it was taking her to come home slipped your mind.
Your guard was down while you hummed to the low music, lying on your stomach, back facing the door and typing away as you swung your legs in the air.
“I see you’re working hard.”
Yelping in fright, you almost fell off the bed, the deep grunt of Bucky’s smooth tone scaring you from the sanctuary of his daughter's room. You whipped your head around to see your friend’s Dad leaned against the doorway dressed in a tight black T-shirt and grey sweatpants, his dog tags rested against his chest.
The sight was a difficult one to swallow.
It was instinct to turn around so you were facing him as you raced to shuffle up Rebecca’s bed — a danger, your mind cautioned, to have your back turned to a wolf.
He held his hands out in front of him as he walked towards you, as though taming a frightened lamb. “Hey there, it’s only me. No need to be scared.”
“S—Sorry. I was a little lost in my assignment.” You apologised as you scrambled to gather all of your supplies together, desperate to gain some space from Bucky. “I think I’m done for the night, though. So I’ll just go downstairs and wait for Becca—“
“Hold up.” Bucky sat on his daughter's bed, leaving little to no proximity between you to effectively trap you in. “There’s no rush now, is there?”
Exhaling shakily, you stuttered, “N—No— um, not at all, Mr Barnes—“
“Bucky,” he corrected gently.
“Yes, B—Bucky.” You struggled to test his name on your tongue, not having spoken it since your night together. “I’m so sorry.”
Rebecca’s dad just laughed, amused at your rambling.
A tension, seemingly only one-way, swallowed you whole, threatening to drown you. It was impossible to hold direct eye contact with his ocean blues eyes, ones that ran vivid through your mind in your nights alone filled with heated memories and your biggest — now new favourite — vibrator.
His voice snapped you out of lust filled haze. “Rebecca shouldn’t be too long. Poor old neighbour lost his wife a couple of years back and Becs—the angel she is—goes over to help him when he needs it.”
You could see it. She was the sort to not think twice about helping anyone in need and the thought eased your mind. “Well,” you smiled, hoping you didn't look as awkward as you felt. “That’s very kind of her.”
“That’s my Becs,” Mr Barnes proudly grinned.
The room grew silent once again. Picking your fingernails, you fought to calm the cold, harsh anxiety eating away at you. It still seemed as though Bucky couldn’t remember you, but a nagging feeling in your gut wouldn’t let that settle your nerves.
“I just thought I’d come check on you anyway, sweetheart. Y'know, make sure you’ve settled in nicely for the week.” He smiled while placing his palm on the bed in the small space between you, leaning his weight against it as he got closer.
“Y—Yeah.” You cleared your throat before continuing, keeping your answers short. “Mhm, I’m all good, thank you.” You smiled tightly, hoping Bucky would take the hint to leave, but alas your luck was short.
“What you been workin’ on then, darlin’?” He nodded to your laptop resting on your legs.
“Oh, not much.” You downplayed. “Just a written piece, nothing major— no wait!—” Bucky cut you off as he abruptly swiped your laptop from your lap, the cold ring on his pinky finger brushing against the bare skin of your thigh. Before you could even think of hastily clambering for it back, he already had your laptop open and sitting on his thick thighs as he began reading.
“A psychology major, huh?” Bucky smirked, eyes scattering across the screen to take your assignment in. “Impressive. You’re a very clever girl.”
Heat quickly rose up your neck, warming your cheeks as you were rendered speechless. A heavy ache between your legs left you squeezing your thighs together because of his praise — his words sent you straight back to the night against the hotel’s glassed windows he had brutally fucked you against while worshipping how much of a good girl you were for taking all of him.
Quickly, you shook the intense thought from your mind, scolding yourself for letting it happen an umpteenth time. “Really, it’s nothing,” you said.
Bucky stopped reading your work and looked at you intensely, enough to make you squirm. “You really shouldn’t put yourself down like that.” Placing your laptop on the floor, he smoothly shuffled closer to you. You couldn’t help but stare at the hand he moved into your vicinity. His touch as he laid it on the naked skin of your thigh sent a thrill through your whole body. “Hasn’t anyone ever praised you before, huh?”
His intricate voice, delicate and gentle soothed you and excited you both in equal measure. The previous alarm bells blaring in your head were non-existent when he squeezed the meat of your thigh so tenderly with his large hands. “I— um— I don’t—”
“Nobody told you how proud they are of you?”
Your eyes glossed over as the shield you had built for yourself started to dismantle. Bucky was right. You were lonely and tired and you worked so hard for little reward. Your parents didn’t tell you they were proud of you, nobody ever told you how good you had been.
Bucky’s hand moved up to cup your cheek, his thumb delicately rubbing over your lip. You melted into his touch too quickly. “Shh, it’s alright, sweetheart. I’m proud of you.”
You willingly fell into a dangerous trap he had set out as your eyes fluttered closed. Your friend’s Dad’s caress was so familiar, even after so long — his scent intoxicating and his voice a melody to the scrambled mess in your head.
It didn’t occur to you then, the issue with Bucky inching more forward, almost until his chest was plastered to yours. The thought of his strange comfortability with his daughter’s friend wasn’t worthy of space in your head.
For once you weren’t thinking of Rebecca.
Until the slam of the front door ricocheted up the stairs and into her bedroom. “I’m home, Dad!”
Your eyes shot open and you gave yourself a quick second to get lost in Bucky’s gaze before you leaped up in panic.
You were half expecting him to also worry, to quickly dart out of the room. But instead he carelessly stood up from the bed along with you and combed his hair back with his fingers.
“Dad! Where are you?”
Pure terror. The fear of being caught in a compromising position with Bucky by your friend was overwhelming as your hands shook. Rebecca’s footsteps began to sound over the stairs and you closed your eyes, waiting for chaos.
It was only a couple of seconds after your stomach jumped in frightful anticipation when you felt her presence join you. “Babe, have you— What the fuck are you doing?”
Your stomach lurched. Slowly squinting an eye open, you saw your friend standing in the doorway looking at you in confusion. You steadily tracked your sight across the room, expecting to see Bucky. To your surprise, he wasn’t there anymore.
You opened your eyes fully, the fear easing away some though your nerves were still alight with edginess. “I don’t— I don’t know.”
“Um, okay?” Becca said wearily. “Anyway, have you seen my Dad, I wanted to talk to him before we head to bed.”
This was a chance, you inwardly thought. To tell your best friend about everything while your friendship could still be repaired.
But the probability of disclosing your secret and potentially ruining Rebecca’s life won out. “No. I haven’t seen him.” The lie tasted sour on your tongue and shame clawed its way back to the surface.
Your friend smiled brightly and shrugged. “No problem, I’ll go find him. I’ll be back to work on assignments in a minute.” She exited her room in search of her Dad.
You crumpled to the bed and hung your head in your hands, exhaling deeply. You’re a shitty person, the voice in your head supplied unhelpfully.
After a while, Rebecca had returned to her room and for the rest of the evening, you both worked on your respective assignments; her chattering away happily while you stared at the screen of your laptop blankly, adding nothing to the open document until the two of you decided to call it a night.
Unexpectedly though, instead of getting ready for bed together, your friend showed you to a guest room.
“Becca,” you laughed. “I thought I’d be staying in your room for the night. You know—with you?”
“Well, I told my Dad you liked your own space and he set up one of the guest rooms for you. It's no biggie.” She shrugged.
Right. Because of course you wouldn’t be staying with her when there were an endless amount of spare bedrooms on the first floor alone.
You cursed yourself in that moment, reliving your protests of spending the midterm break alone because of your need for space.
“Are you sure?” You tried again, the vulnerability of being by yourself without the buffer of Rebecca taunting you. “We could have a sleepover! Watch movies and stay up late!”
But she just raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. “Girl, I know you are dying for a minute to yourself—to relax and decompress.” Holding your hand, she softly laughed. “I practically begged you to come here and you agreed. You’ve been more kind to me in the minute we met than most of my old friends over the span of the years I knew them. So please, the least I could do is give you a break during the nights.”
The guilt ate you alive; her selflessness and naturally good heart steadily chipping away at your conscience. Why the hell did she have to be so nice?
Putting on your best smile, you tried to rid of the nasty voice spitting venom inside your head. You slept with her fucking Dad, you whore — you don’t deserve this. Outwardly, you said, “I don’t deserve this, Becs. It's too much.” A somewhat admittance of the truth; the full story you would take to the grave, if only to keep your friendship intact.
“Oh, hush. Of course you do.” She pushed you away playfully into your new room. “Now go freshen up and get some sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Clenching your hands in unexplained nerves, you wished her goodnight while she began to walk down the hall to her own room. “See you tomorrow, Becs.” The door closed with a click and you dropped your forehead against the wood with a loud thud.
You could do this, you reasoned with yourself. It was only for a couple of days, and as long as you stayed close to Rebecca and was not left alone with her father, you could ignore your inner thoughts — the vile, disgusting voice that simultaneously begged you to to crawl on all fours to him like a desperate bitch and be ashamed of your sins.
It wasn’t difficult to fall asleep. Exhaustion from the events of a long day and a shower with the most luxurious products you had ever used assisted you with that and you whispered an internal gratitude to the fluffy pillows you laid your head on for helping you escape reality before you closed your eyes.
However, you were awoken from your deep slumber when the rattle of your bedroom door knob interrupted your dreamless sleep. You had to fight the heaviness of your body as you sat up, rubbing your eyes with a groan before you tried squinting through the darkness to no avail.
The sudden thought of your friend coming to annoy you after all surprisingly made you crack a smile. “Becs?” you sleepily called out.
The latch of the door clicked as it steadily creeped open and you rolled your eyes at your friend’s antics. “If you’re trying to scare me then ha ha—very funny, dork.”
Your sight began to adjust, outlines and shadows soon becoming more clear but still a struggle to make out in the late hour.
Though there was no response from your friend. Silence shrouded over the room with only your small breaths to be heard.
You stared at the doorway expectedly, waiting for a response you wouldn’t get. “Becca?” you called out warily once more.
But that time, as the door clicked shut with a deafening loudness, a deep voice — one that definitely did not belong to your friend — answered. “Y’know, you look just as pretty as you did the night we met.”
Cold dread had every muscle of your body locking up. It became clear then that it wasn’t Rebecca that had entered your room. More so a tall figure, clad in only his underwear and his dog tags.
“M—Mr Barnes?” your lips quivered with panic. “What— What are you doing?”
Every clink of the metal around his neck haunted you with each step he made closer. You scrambled up towards the headboard, plastering yourself against the wood.
Pointless when he sat beside you on the bed, bending his knee to lean one leg against your thigh. The feel of his bare skin against yours burned.
“No need to be afraid, sweetheart,” Bucky chuckled. “You know me, don’t you?”
You gulped. Sudden dizziness blurred his face to your eyes and the deprivation of your sight made his touch all the more electrifying when he swept your hair to the side and kissed your shoulder.
A shudder ran down your spine, the strap of your silk nightgown falling down your arm and stripping you of your only defense left against him.
“Mr Barnes,” you tried again, more pleadingly.
“What have I said about calling me that, hm? You know my name well enough by now, pretty girl. You’ve screamed it enough.” His tormenting laugh vibrated through you while he still peppered feather light kisses across your skin.
You begged your body to move, for your hands to push him away and your voice to shout for Rebecca. Alas, you kept to your place, still as stone.
“You can’t— you can’t be here,” you whispered shakily.
Bucky smirked. “Oh really? Is this not my house, sweetheart?” Your nipples pebbled against the silk material covering them as his breath cascaded goosebumps over your skin in its trail. “Been tryin’ so hard to restrain myself since I saw you again this mornin’. But I can’t fuckin’ hold back anymore.”
“You remember me,” you managed to choke out.
Bucky hummed, laving his tongue over the sweat building on your neck. “Like I could ever forget a girl like you.”
The knot in your stomach tightened, each press of his lips over your body immobilising you further. Bucky knew who you were, from the moment your eyes connected in the foyer. The reality set in then — deep and unsettling and delicious, all at once.
“I had to act like I didn’t know you, baby. Couldn’t have Rebecca finding out her only friend knows the taste of her Dad’s cock now, could I?”
You felt sick. Your mind raged in war between a guilty conscience and your own pleasure. To give in would be evil, so horrendously sick and twisted.
A single tear dropped from your watery eyes and slowly rolled down your cheek, the sudden saltiness hitting Bucky’s tongue and making him groan. “Fuck, don’t tease me already, baby.”
“She’s my friend,” you whimpered. “I can’t do this to her.”
Bucky looked up, a soft expression on his face. “Oh, darlin’. I love her too, really.” His lip curled up then, a wolfish gleam in his eye. “But I can’t go another minute without touchin’ you.”
Placing his forehead against yours, his hand traveled up from your thigh, all the way over your stomach until he reached your tits. You squeezed your eyes tightly closed when his forefinger and thumb pinched your nipple through the silk. “Doesn’t this feel good, hm? Doesn’t this feel right?”
Against your will, you released a high pitched keen. “Bucky.”
His chest rumbled in delight, a deep purr in your ear. However, your mind still bartered with itself, unrelenting in its inability to give in. “But what if Becca—?”
“She doesn’t have to know a damn thing, baby.” Bucky turned his head and bit over the pulse of your neck. “It’ll be our dirty little secret.”
Your head was filled with clouds, a fog smothering over any rational thought. Especially with the way Bucky began to sneakily slip the other strap of your nightgown down. He was mesmerising in his actions, his fragile touches that made you feel special.
You so desperately wanted to feel special.
Just like he made you feel back in the summer.
The evil voice in your mind hissed at you — dirty, disgusting, whore. The hopeful one became louder — lonely, unloved, tired.
You were so fucking tired.
The fight in you left. You were a goner, a sacrificial lamb while you tilted your head back to reveal more of you. The walls you so carefully crafted came crumbling down pathetically.
Bucky didn’t waste any time taking advantage of that. “There’s my good girl. Let it happen, baby.”
The moon shone through the window, becoming the only source of light in the darkness and its glow blanketed over the same features as the strobe lights in the club back in summer.
Fate hadn’t been on your side from the moment it cruelly introduced Becca into your life when it had already manifested your demise with her Dad. So who were you to try and change it?
Letting your body take control over your mind, you turned your head, grabbed Bucky by the back of his neck and crashed your lips to his — finally giving into temptation. His answering moan of shock and arousal made you more daring and you snuck your tongue into his mouth too.
Bucky ripped away, a string of saliva connected between your lips. “You still wear the same fuckin’ cherry chapstick,” he groaned, before squeezing your breast tightly. “Fuck—go lay your head at the end of the bed for me, sweetheart. Want that shit around my cock.”
With urgency, you rushed over to the edge of the mattress, lying on your back and making sure your head hung over the bed. Your view was upside down, warped while you watched Bucky stroll towards you with bated breath.
He stood behind you, all menacing and tall — you had never felt smaller in your life, though you liked the feeling with him.
The veins on Bucky’s forearm bulged from his skin as he brought his hand to your throat. Lightly, he caressed his thumb over the junction of your neck. “Do you remember how eagerly you sucked my dick last time?”
You swallowed the lump in your throat, the bob of it transcending under his large hand. “I— I do.”
He smirked down at you. “You gonna make me proud again, baby?”
Your eyes glazed over with neediness. “Please—Want to make you proud of me.”
His bright white teeth gleamed with his predatory smile. “Stick out your tongue for me, darlin’.”
Doing as he asked, you opened your mouth and let your tongue hang out, uncaring to how easily you obeyed his commands.
“Good job, sweetheart.” Bucky brought his hands up to his underwear and with a swift pull, his black briefs fell to the ground.
You preened like a cat at the sight of his cock bobbing into your view. The light casting in from the moon glistened over the underside of his dick, the purple head pulsing harshly.
Bucky pumped his cock slowly twice, a premature pearl of cum gathering at the head. “You ready for me, baby?”
Nodding your head hungrily up at him, you whined, “Uh-huh.”
Bucky positioned himself closer to you, your head hung between his spread legs. You waited in anticipation for him to inch forward and slide his length down your throat, but instead he tapped the head of his cock against your wet tongue.
The resounding slap caused you to rub your thighs together in agony, the feel of his heavy weight divine.
“Aw, babygirl,” Bucky teased. “You missed me that much you can’t help those tingles already, huh?” He tapped his length against you again and his eyes fluttered. “There’s more where that came from.”
The desperation to wrap your lips around his cock was overbearing and so you sealed your mouth around him, suckling the tip with a refound hunger.
“Holy fuck.” Bucky’s legs trembled at the shock of your sudden confidence. “Oh, just like that, sweetheart.”
You swiped your tongue around the bulbous head of his dick, moaning rabidly at his salty taste. Bucky’s natural musk was addictive and you tried to shuffle your body closer to take more of his length, but he quickly grabbed your hips to stop you. “Woah—slow down there. Daddy’s the one runnin’ the show tonight, not you.”
You let go of his cock with a pop. “Please, Daddy.” Your pleas were breathless as you panted for air. “Want all of you—please!”
Leaning over until his lips brushed yours, Bucky kissed you deeply before murmuring, “Don’t worry your pretty little head about that, I’ll make sure you take all of me.”
He stood back up promptly, giving you whiplash in your current state. “Now open that slutty little mouth. Wide.”
Hardly giving you time to do as he asked, Bucky shoved his entire length down your throat. Your eyes widened as you gagged around him.
“Shh, baby. You’re okay, relax.” Opposite to his brutal force, he brushed softly over your chin. “You can handle me. You’ve done it before, right?”
Breathing through your nose calmly was a challenge with his thick cock limiting your intake of oxygen. But you wanted so badly to fulfill Bucky’s wishes. So closing your eyes and willing yourself not to panic, you focused your breaths.
“There we go.” The pride in his tone was exhilarating. “Knew you could do it, darlin’.”
Bucky kept still for a few more seconds, allowing you to get used to the intrusion of the new position before he began to ease his cock out of your throat and gently push back in. “Yeah, you remember my cock don’t you, sweetheart? Your tight little throat feels so fuckin’ good.”
Your hands came up to grip the back of his firm thighs to ground yourself. You felt every inch of him glide down until his tip reached your windpipe and you coughed violently, sputtering around him.
“That’s right, baby. Choke on me.” Bucky upped the speed of his pace then and your nails dug deep into his flesh.
While his actions turned harsh and forceful, your pleasure grew and with your squirming, the skirt of your nightgown began to ride up your body without you realising.
Bucky did though, almost immediately. You couldn’t see how his eyes snapped towards the bare skin of your thighs and lower stomach and to his pleasant surprise, you weren't wearing any panties.
The sound of his laughter while his hips continued to pump into you made your nerves spike.
“My sweet girl,” he cooed short windedly. “You must’ve known I was coming, huh? Not wearing anything under that cute little outfit.”
You squealed, unable to say anything while sucking his cock, though the vibrations of your moans made Bucky’s thrusts falter.
“Fuck—shit, baby. I almost forgot how good you are at that,” he laughed. His hands traveled tantalising over your stomach until he reached the bottom of your nightgown. “Let Daddy see what you’ve been hidin’ from me.”
The silk material unpeeled from your skin as Bucky lifted it over your breasts. Your full body was on display for him and you fidgeted bashfully under his scrutiny. Your sight was compromised, your movements were limited and your thoughts were scrambled.
“Oh, darlin’. You’re a doll, ain’t you?” Bucky’s rough and calloused hands smoothed over your bare skin. He palmed your breasts roughly, just once before inching down to your lower stomach. “Now, you gonna show me what I really wanna see?”
It didn’t take you a second to spread your legs for him, the cold air hitting your soaked cunt.
“That’s it,” he murmured. “Open those gorgeous thighs for me, I wanna see how wet my baby girl is.”
Bucky leaned over your body, pushing his cock even further down your throat. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, but your body soon jolted at the feel of his finger sliding through your folds.
You screamed around his dick and tapped his thighs for a breather, which he so graciously granted. As soon as he tilted his hips to let his cock fall out of your mouth, you gasped loudly. “Oh my god— Bucky, I can’t. I can’t I can’t, please—”
Your hoarse voice was cut off when Bucky wrapped his free hand around your throat. “Shut the fuck up and take it.”
His cock laid against your cheek while he looked into your eyes. He forewent easing you into it and instead forced two of his fingers into your cunt. You were about to cry out until he shoved his cock down your throat again with a sigh. “Guess Daddy’s gonna have to keep you quiet—such a noisy girl.”
The clink of his dog tags with each thrust mixed with your gurgles around his cock, a mixture of your spit and precum bubbling around your mouth and running messily down your chin. The stretch of his fingers unprepared was painful and yet it blended perfectly into pleasure. “Mmph!”
“Yeah? You like that, sweetheart?” Bucky choked when he thrusted into your mouth at a particular angle. Taking advantage of his legs twitching erratically, you managed to release his dick and reach further back to his balls.
Wasting no time, you sucked them into your mouth while his cock slapped against your cheeks, smothering precum all over your face.
“Fuck,” he groaned, keeping the steady rhythm of his fingers pumping into your pussy. “You filthy fuckin’ whore—you just want all a’me don’t ya?”
You hummed while playing with balls, using your tongue to tease over his perineum. Bucky was losing his composure fast and the thrill of it made the knot in your stomach tighter.
But not one to be outdone, he ripped his fingers out of your cunt and slapped your clit, hard. You let go with a pop and squealed his name. “Bucky!”
You tried closing your legs, the sensation too overwhelming. Though it was useless with his strength as he held your thighs apart to carry on bringing his hand down firmly on your cunt. “I thought you wanted to play dirty, darlin’,” he growled. “Daddy’s just having some fun.”
Your body jolted with each slap delivered. You took it, even when the pain became too much and you thought you would pass out, until Bucky decided to give you respite. He left your pussy sore and aching as he lifted up away from you. A whine tore from your throat.
“That's what happens when you don’t do as I say.” You were manhandled up and into Bucky’s arms as he sat down against the headboard. He moved you around without a hint of struggle and placed you on his lap, facing away from him. “Good girls don’t disobey Daddy, do they?”
“No,” sighed. His hard, thick length stood firm against your ass, his dog tags soothingly cold against your warm back and you whimpered pleadingly while grinding back into him. “Want it in me.”
Bucky’s laughter vibrated through you. “Yeah, baby? Wanna bounce on Daddy’s cock?”
“Yes! Please!” you cried.
Gliding his hands around to your front, he pinched each nipple. “Well, I’m not stoppin’ you. Go ahead.”
You inhaled deeply, gathering all your strength to lift up on your shaky legs. Using Bucky’s thighs to hold yourself, you tilted your hips up until your heat skimmed over the head of his cock. “O—Oh, oh shit,” you stuttered at the sensation.
Bucky’s head thumped back against the headboard. “God—I’ve fuckin’ missed that cunt.”
His enjoyment allowed you the courage to balance on one hand while your other reached down to grip his thick length. A strangled noise rose from Bucky’s throat, but you ignored it and swept his tip through your folds.
“Look who’s gotten brave, huh?” Bucky laughed breathlessly while he played with your tits. “Not thinkin’ about poor Becs now are you, baby?”
Before the harsh retort could dig deep and make a home in your conscience, you shook your head and let his cock catch on your clenching hole. “Wanna be filled again.”
“Then do somethin’ about it, darlin’.” Bucky rested his chin on your shoulder and you both looked down to where your sex rested on his length. Your stomach sucked in with your uneasy breaths and after internally counting down, you dropped your hips.
“Fuck!” Bucky’s hands gripped your breasts tightly, something to help him through how good the slick glide felt. You did the same, latching on to his meaty thighs. “Shit.”
Your chests rose and fell in tandem, but the sensation of feeling so full made you tighten around his cock. “I need to move, Daddy.”
His mouth moved over your neck as he spoke, “Go on, babygirl. Milk Daddy’s cock.”
With his approval, you began to angle your hips up, letting his length slide out of you until the very head rested snug in your hole and then sank down again steadily. Your breath hitched while your head fell back onto his shoulder.
“Just like that, sweetheart. Fuck—just like that. Keep going for me.” Bucky’s hands smoothed down to your hips and gripped them, helping you move over his cock.
“You’re so b—big,” you whispered. “Forgot how big you are.”
“Oh, I know. But you’re doing so good for me, aren’t you?” he cooed.
“Mhm,” your head bobbed lazily up and down with your motions. “I’m your good girl, right?”
Bucky grunted and made you bounce faster. “The best, baby. Such a good girl for me.”
His dick throbbed angrily inside you, its length scraping your walls and stretching you with its girth. The clapping of your thrusts grew louder, more depraved as you lost control from the divine pleasure. Had you been thinking more clearly, you would have been careful about your volume, but all your inhibitions went out the window long ago.
“Need more,” you slurred. “Wanna cum, but need more Daddy.”
“Shh—I know what you need, sweetheart.” Bucky slithered his hand down your stomach and to your heat. With your legs spread wide over his, it gave him ample opportunity to snake his fingers over your engorged clit and begin circling them.
You squeaked, instantly snapping your legs closed around his hand. “Bucky, wait!—”
But he forced your legs open and slapped your clit, making you jump with a shout. “Don’t you fuckin’ tell me to wait. You asked me for more so you’re getting more, you slut. What happened to wantin’ to make me proud, hm?”
You sobbed as a tear tracked down your cheek. “I— I do!”
“So then you’ll take it—won’t you?” Bucky growled against your ear.
Sniffling, you nodded, panting while bouncing on his cock. “Yes.”
“Yes, what?”
You hiccuped. “Yes, D—Daddy.”
Bucky hummed in approval and began thrusting up to meet your stride. “That’s more like it.”
You took what he gave you while he fucked up into your pussy. The strain of your muscles was almost unbearable, but you persevered through the pain — to be the center of his attention, to be so utterly wanted felt too compelling to give up.
His thrusts were harsh, rough enough to have your toes curling and his balls to smack against your skin. All those sensations paired with his ruthless circles on your clit blended to build your impending orgasm. “I’m so close,” you gasped.
“Me too, babygirl.” Bucky grunted, biting into his plump bottom lip. “Gonna empty my load inside a’you.”
You preened, the walls of your pussy clenching around his length. “Please.”
Bucky’s hips worked overtime, a ferocious beast taking over in its haze. He brought his free hand up to your cheeks and squished them together. “Who’s Daddy’s little cumslut, huh?”
“Me,” you cried. “I’m Daddy’s cumslut.”
“Fuck yeah you are,” he snarled. “And now that I’ve got you back you’re not fuckin’ goin’ anywhere.”
You were too dizzy to comprehend the weight behind his words, instead you slammed your hips up and down in time with Bucky’s movements, chasing the tightening in your lower stomach.
“You ready for me, darlin’?” he asked.
You swallowed the dryness in your throat. “Uh-huh.”
“Good. Now hold on.” Without waiting for you to reply, he grabbed under your thighs and lifted you. You were held up solely by his arms as he powerfully began to fuck you.
You became mute, mouth hung open on a continuous silent scream. The feeling was like no other; Bucky’s pure strength and huge length tore you apart, physically and mentally.
“Gonna,” thrust, “fill,” thrust, “this,” thrust, “gorgeous fuckin’ pussy.”
Your tongue lolled out of your mouth like a dog, drool dripping down your chin while your eyes rolled to the back of your head. You were on the verge of cumming. “Close.” You had been reduced to one syllable words.
“I know, baby. I fuckin’ know—Can feel you,” Bucky gasped. “Let go for me, darlin’.” It was only when the angle of his hips changed and the head of his cock repeatedly nudged against your cervix that the balance of your orgasm tipped over.
“Hnng—Fuck!” You walls trapped Bucky’s dick in a tight chokehold as your thighs shook in a spasm. He continued to grind up into you, releasing his warm load into your pussy.
“Bucky!” you keened while your walls fluttered around his length. The rush was unlike any you had experienced before and an errant thought that any consequence was worth it to cum like that again swirled through your mind. “Made me— made me cum so hard,” you slurred.
Your high began to simmer down and you felt like you could regain control over your mind until Bucky’s hand came down onto your clit again. “One more,” he breathed into your ear. “Gimme one fuckin’ more.”
Your eyes shot open and you shook your head, rapidly. “C—Can’t,” you managed to croak. “Too much.”
You reached down to try and pry his hand away from you, but he was too strong. “I said I want one more.” Bucky held your arms to your chest then, beginning to rub your clit in fast circles.
An unusual pressure built up quickly and you panicked. “Bucky—something’s wrong.”
But he sucked over your neck, easing your worries. “You’re okay. It's okay, baby. Just let it happen, remember?”
You writhed in his hold, moaning salaciously. “I’m— I’m g—gonna cum again.” The feel of his cock still filling you, his cum seeping out of your whole which each dirty grind he made, the sensation of his tongue against your neck and his tireless fingers was all too much.
“Cum for Daddy then, darlin’.” A couple of circulations later and you screamed out in unimaginable pleasure. Your stomach swooped and the next you knew, a strong pressure forced Bucky’s cock out of your cunt. A rush of liquid sprayed out of you and covered the entirety of the bedsheets.
“There we are,” he grinned wickedly. “Exactly what I wanted.”
It felt like it went on forever. Bucky didn’t let up on his insistent rubbing. But as soon as the last juices squirted out of you, you deflated into his chest, breaths heaving with utter exhaustion. You were too tired to keep your eyes open, body boneless and overexerted. Your body jumped with aftershocks, tiny zings of electricity igniting your nerves.
Bucky finally slowed his fingers down to a stop on your clit. Your back rose and fell with his pants, each puff of his exhales hitting your sensitive skin and making you shiver.
“Holy fuck,” he laughed deliriously. “That was—fuck.”
Internally agreeing, you hummed, incapable of formulating words. Bucky’s arms wrapped around you while he placed a kiss to the back of your head and you enjoyed being surrounded with his warmth and comfort. “You were perfect, babygirl,” he mumbled. “Did so fuckin’ good for me. Made Daddy so proud.”
A wide smile curled onto your face as your eyes remained closed. You were falling out of consciousness, giving in to sleep fast.
“Let’s get you comfy.” You didn’t stir when Bucky began to lift up, or when he rearranged your form so he could carry your limp body in his arms.
Your body bounced with each powerful step he made. Vaguely hearing the room door open, a cold blast of air hit your heated skin and you shivered, snuggling closer into Bucky’s chest.
Your head swam with fuzziness. You couldn’t bear to open your eyes with their heaviness. But you felt as you were delicately placed onto a large, comfortable bed, stacked with pillows and fitted with dry sheets, along with Bucky’s delicious scent that tickled your senses.
A soft kiss was pressed onto your cheek, a firm hand curling around your waist and just before you could succumb to sleep, you heard his last words. “You get some rest now, sweetheart. We’ve still got a whole week ahead of us.”
You were sure the mortification would hit you in the morning. Pure regret sinking deeply into your skin and making you feel sick to the core.
But you also knew now that any chance of quitting your best friend's dad had been lost. Because Bucky was a guilty pleasure, a rush you couldn’t bear to give up — no matter the consequences and no matter who it would inevitably hurt.
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x f!reader#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x reader smut#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes#bucky x reader#bucky barnes imagine#bucky x you#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes oneshot#bucky barnes one shot
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Saleswoman
Who would've thought Yuna made a good saleswoman...Well, I would have. Anyway, here's the fic for the week; originally, I was thinking of doing a Yuna gangbang fic, but then Eros presented a saleswoman concept I liked in a writer discord and thought would be easier than a gangbang.
Length 2.1K
Yuna X Mreader
Having seen good reviews about the new mattress store, you look up the location. Your mattress has had a depression in it after years of use, and you needed another. The reviews praise the staff for their help in deciding. You set aside time to head out, ensuring you researched the different types of beds beforehand. You arrive at the store just a few minutes after they open; you take in the grand scale of it. You next notice how empty it was, considering the many reviews you thought the store would be full. You don’t even see any workers as you walk through.
Shaking your head, you move through the store and look at all the different bed models. They had various kinds of technology, all meant to aid sleep, or so they claimed. You tested a few beds laying on them to see how they felt. You had decided beforehand you wanted something that was a little firmer, so you focused on those. As you tested another out, you shut your eyes, imagining what it would be like to sleep on it for years. This one was too firm, having very little give. You open your eyes to see the face of a young woman staring back at you. “Hi! Welcome!” She greets you. You jump, shocked that you hadn’t noticed her walk up to you. “Oh, sorry for scaring you. My name is Yuna, and I’ll be your special aid today.” She says with a wide grin. You look the woman over as she fixes her hair. Yuna didn’t look like someone who worked her. She wore a white sleeveless crop top from a nearby university and matching white shorts. Her red hair stood out against her clothing, attracting attention to her face.
“I saw you lay on a few models. Did any of them interest you further?” Yuna asks, her hand behind her back as she listens to your response.
“Well, there was the smart bed and one over there.” You say, pointing out a mattress that wasn’t too firm or soft. “The second one is what I’m leaning toward. It’s a lot cheaper.”
“That’s true, sir, but the smart bed is much better for your sleep and other activities.” She states.
You find her comment odd, “Other activities?” It takes you a moment to connect the dots; when you realize what Yuna meant, she nods.
“Yes, sir. I did mean that.” She states, “Now, if you’d like to test them out, please follow me.”
“But I already did.” You’re confused again, not understanding what she means.
“For the…other activities. You need to follow me.” Yuna says, walking ahead of you. She checks to make sure you are following her, smirking as she sees you are. Yuna stops at a door at the end of the building, picking up a mounted phone. “Hello? Yes, we’d like to test out the Genie smart bed and the Dura hard mattress. Okay, thank you.” Yuna hangs up and spins around on her heel. It’ll be just a moment; they have to set everything up. You see the hunger in her eyes as she looks you up and down. She licks her lips and smiles at you. “I’m sure you’ll like the Dura brand, but the smart bed is the way to go. I’m sure your girlfriend would love it.”
“I don’t have a girlfriend.” You respond, fixing Yuna’s error. “Why do you recommend it so much?”
“It has a lot of nice features; I can show you soon,” Yuna says just as the phone on the wall rings. She picks it up, talks to the other person on the line, and grows her smile as she places the phone back on the hook. “Everything is ready; please come in.” Yuna opens the door; the room is decorated like any regular bedroom, with only one thing standing out: both beds you had been thinking about were set up in the middle. Yuna grabs your hands, taking you to the cheaper bed, placing her hands on your chest, and pushing you onto it. She lifts her shirt, her perky breasts bouncing slightly. “First one of the day,” Yuna whispers to herself as she places a hand on your crotch. You’re taken aback at her advances but willing to go along with it. You wouldn't, couldn’t deny her. She feels your bulge grow larger, her eyes widening for a moment as her lustful smile appears.
She unbuttons your jeans, pulling them down. Yuna giggles as she sees your bulge being held back by your underwear. She bends over, planting a kiss on your cock through your underwear, “You’re so big,” She says with a giggle. Yuna pulls at the hem of your underwear, feigning shock as your cock pops out. You see her shining teeth as she smiles and grasps your cock. She strokes it gently, watching it fully harden in her hand. Yuna kisses the tip of your cock before tracing her lips with your cock.
You grunt her name; her warm lips surround the head, wrapping around it as her tongue moves across it at an agonizing pace. You’re squirming, wanting her to do more. “Relax, baby. I’ll give you what you want in a minute.” She says, her hand pumping your cock as she moves closer to your ear. “Once your cock is in my pussy, you’ll see who I really am.” Yuna’s low, sultry voice sends shivers down your spine. She runs a finger down your chest until she returns to your cock, her lips pressing against it before separating and taking you in. Her tongue runs along the underside of your cock, slowly moving from side to side as she strokes the base of your cock.
“How are you so good?” You moan out, throwing your head back as she takes more of you into her mouth. Yuna ignores your question for the moment, too focused on your cock to answer. Your hips buck, sending your cock into the back of her throat, surprising Yuna.
She pulls back, her saliva dripping onto your cock. “Ah, if you wanted more, you could have just said so.” She pushes herself back onto your cock, making it disappear. You feel Yuna’s throat tighten around the head. You fall back onto the bed, lying down as you explode in Yuna’s mouth, sending waves of cum down her throat. Yuna’s cheeks fill with your semen, puffing up as she pulls away. You sit up slowly, watching her as she lowers her jaw to reveal a mouthful of cum. Yuna swallows it, moaning slightly as she revels in the salty taste.
Yuna takes a step back, undoing the button on her shorts and pulling them down, shivering as the cold air hits her cleanly shaven pussy. “Move back a little.” You follow her orders, centering yourself on the bed. Yuna crawls over you, her modest breasts swaying. She reaches down, grabs your cock, and runs it between her wet folds. Yuna’s soft moans arouse you further, making you want her more. She Presses the head against her entrance, slowly dropping on it. She takes a deep breath, groaning as she feels your cock stretching her. Yuna places one hand on her lower abdomen, feeling your cock make its way through her until it knocks against her womb. “You’re tearing me apart,” She whimpers. “I need a moment.” Yuna focuses on the sensation caused by your cock.
You sit under her, desperate for more, her tight cunt feeling too good to just sit there. You grab her hips and begin thrusting, surprising Yuna. “I’m sorry, but I need you.” You moan, thrusting into her quickly. Yuna places her hands on your chest, trying not to collapse on top of you as you split her apart. You catch her expression, her furrowed brows and shut eyes showing slight discomfort as you knock against her womb. Yuna’s expression soon softens as the pleasure overcomes her.
Yuna’s moans echo in the room; her head tilts back. She looks to the ceiling as she feels her climax approaching. “I’m gonna cum.” She mumbles. You were still a little ways away from your climax. You speed up your thrusts, trying to cum with her. Yuna felt your cock piston in and out of her; she felt like a toy being used and was loving it. A delighted smile appears on her face as she cums on your cock, her walls tightening around you as you continue to ruin her. The young woman’s strength gives out, sending her onto your chest as you near your climax. She mumbles something; it’s inaudible initially, but Yuna repeats herself. “Cum- cum in me,” she says. You moan Yuna’s name, repeating it as you impale her and shoot your cum into her pussy.
You feel Yuna’s walls milking you for your cum as you both start to relax. She stretches out her hand, pointing to the other bed. She gulps softly, saying, “We have to try out the other one.” You nod your head, already tired. Running your hands along her back, Yuna shudders as she feels your hands come to a stop on her ass. You sit up, struggling slightly as you move over to the other bed with Yuna still having your cock inside her. She grabs a remote and holds down one of the buttons, causing the back to raise and letting you be in more of a seated position. You found it convenient. Yuna gives you a dreamy smile as she tosses the remote and begins moving.
You’re seated position puts you much closer to Yuna’s breasts. You notice now her small brown nipples; they move softly as Yuna bounces on your cock. You lean in, dragging your tongue over one slowly, flicking it with your tongue at the end. She gasps, and her body shivers at your tongue's warmth.
“W- What do you think?” Yuna mumbles as she rides you like her life depended on it, her walls squeezing you as you hit her womb. You can tell Yuna is trying to speak more, but the pleasure she’s receiving is making it difficult. Moans flow out from her as her walls tighten around you again. Yuna could give you no warning as she came. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head as she reached her second orgasm; her voice was becoming hoarse from her moans.
You get Yuna off you, laying her beside you. The moment you do, she turns to you, “You didn’t cum.” She says softly. “I want to feel your cum.” Yuna’s hand slithers down her body, spreading her lips for you. You stare at her glistening pussy, it makes you hard, and you find yourself unable to resist Yuna’s invitation. She grabs the remote, lowering the bed back to its original position. “There, easier for you.” She says, licking her lips as she imagines you inside her again. “Go on, fuck me.”You align yourself with her cunt and push in quickly, feeling like you’re being sucked in. Yuna’s moans bounce off the walls, fueling you to start thrusting. You lift her hips off the bed, giving yourself a better position and allowing you to go deeper into Yuna’s cunt. Each thrust creates a bulge that Yuna presses down on, making her walls tighten around you. Her moans grew louder; she was getting more pleasure out of it, too. Neither of you last long, your quick thrust making you both cum again. You collapse on top of Yuna, feeling parts of the soft mattress.
You watch her grab the remote, feeling the bed become firmer. “So what do you think? How was the smart bed? Better, right?” Yuna mutters, slowly regaining her composure as time goes by.
“I think you’re right. It is better.”
“I told you.” She replies, a smile on her face.
You and Yuna hammer out the details as you lay beside each other, your cum oozing out of her cunt, and you end up buying the smart bed. You don’t know if Yuna being naked at the end helped her convince you, but you were buying the bed. Yuna felt satisfied with herself. After you had left, she went to the staff room, skipping all the way there while still naked, happy to have made a good piece of commission on the sale. She showed off, annoying the others as they stood there watching cum run down her legs. You write a review for the store, writing about the helpful staff much like the others before you.
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MESSY - LN4
pt.1
summary : After a steamy night together, neither Y/n or Lando expected to see eachother soon. Well, when they find eachother in the paddock and come to the realization that Y/n is a Piastri and Lando is Oscar’s teammate… things get interesting.
listen up : pt.1 bc i had an idea and wanna wait for baku to happen for pt.2! Piastri!sister. Mentions of sex.
word count : 562
⋆。‧˚⋆
When I entered the paddock with my brother this morning, I expected to not know anyone. Yet when I turn around and my eyes are set upon a man in the same papaya orange that Oscar wears, My jaw drops.
“This is the media pen.” Oscar whispers in my ear as we stand in the back, “Never been on this side.” then, just like that, my fear comes true. He points at him, “That’s Lando- my teammate!”
“Lando?” I repeat because I'm in such a shock that I can’t say anything else.
“Mhm. You’ll like him.” Oh yeah, he has no idea how much. Maybe enough to fuck him!? God what kind of sick joke is this!?
Lando’s eyes stray from the reporter for one second, but it’s enough for his eyes to find me. He does a double take. He looks as shocked as I feel.
Seeing the guy who I hooked up with after meeting for five minutes in a dark club four days ago was NOT on my to do list today!
He pulls his eyes away and looks back at the reporter. What the fuck have I gotten myself into?
⋆。‧˚⋆
“What the hell?” Lando managed to corner me after my brother left me in hospitality, “What the actual hell?” I mentally groan, not wanting to deal with this.
“I feel the exact same!” My hand goes to my curled hair, “Lando Norris? Seriously!?”
“You think that’s crazy? You’re my teammate's bloody sister!” he looks nauseous, “How did you not know who I was?”
We didn’t exchange names. We were both tipsy, could barely see with those damn strobe lights, then were blinded by lust- apparently!
I roll my eyes, “Oh please, not everybody knows you.”
“No.” He grits his teeth together, “But you should! Haven’t you seen photos? You’re telling me you have never seen Oscar and I together?”
I groan, “I don’t have social media! I watch F1 for Osc and you all have helmets on! Fuck this is messy.” I always skipped the media parts and Oscar doesn’t talk much about his job when he’s home.
We’re in Baku this weekend, I may have gone out alone and found comfort in a random guy. That same random guy made out with me in a corner and took me to his hotel after.
I groan, “Oscar can NOT know about this!”
“No shit!” Lando shakes his head, taking a breath before looking at me again, “I’m sorry… Im not upset. I mean, how could I be after our night?” He laughs to himself but my face remains flat, “I’m stressed this weekend.”
I sigh, flattening my nice black dress, “It’s okay. Neither of us knew.”
He looks pained again, “I can’t believe you are his sister.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I raise a brow skeptically.
“You’re just…“ He tries to find the words, “hot?”
I laugh, placing my hands on my hips, “Good to know you like one thing about me.”
“Trust me love, I like many things about you.” I punch him in the arm.
“Hush up!” I shake my head, “Makes sense that you’re a driver though.”
“Oh?” He crosses his arms. God his arms.
“It explains the stamina.” I shrug and walk away.
“Just because you’re his sister doesn’t mean I’m not up for another round!” I flip him off.
#fanfic#formula 1 fanfic#lando norris#lando norris fanfic#f1 imagine#lando x reader#f1 fanfic#f1 x reader#lando imagine#f1 fic
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I Know What You Want ft. Wonyoung
premise: Inspired by those "your birth month is your ex gf and your current gf" slideshows on tiktok. Might do more of these because they are light and fun.
pairing: Wonyoung x Male Reader content warning/kinks: cheating, daddy kink, anal a/n: happy sunday, always lube up properly o7 audio version (note: audio version is without daddy kink bc i got too lazy to edit around it) wc: 2.4k
"Isn't she a little old for you?" Wonyoung asked, a hint of annoyance in her tone.
"You sound jealous."
She shrugged. "I'm not jealous. I just didn't realize Sunmi-sunbaenim was into robbing the cradle."
"I'm twenty-one," you pointed out. Surely grown enough to make your own decisions on who you dated.
"She's thirty-two," Wonyoung countered.
You let out an annoyed sigh, "I'm not doing this with you today, Wonyoung. Why did you want to meet?"
Wonyoung bristled at your directness, her posture straightening as she scoffed. "You start fucking some hag and you start acting brand new around me."
"Some hag? Really? Wasn't it you who kept saying how much you adored Sunmi-sunbaenim?"
"That was before she took what was mine."
You let out a bark of dry laughter. "I'm not yours. I don't belong to you, Wonyoung."
A healthy response would have been to accept the setting of boundaries and acknowledge their mistake. Which naturally meant that Wonyoung took your words as a challenge.
"Is that right?" she asked, taking a step towards you. "You belong to her now, huh?"
"That's right." Which wasn't exactly true. You didn't think you belonged to anyone but something about the entitlement she was acting with made you respond out of indignation.
What you didn't expect was for her hand to reach out, manicured fingers sliding down to grasp your crotch. "Then why do I still get you hard?"
"Wonyoung -- "
A thin eyebrow arched itself, the picture of arrogance. "Are you going to deny it?"
"Your delusional."
"Am I?" She began to massage your cock over your clothing, and despite your protest, your cock was all too eager to respond to her familiar touch. "Are you telling me if I bent over right now you wouldn't fuck me against this wall?"
God you hated her. Or at least you should. The reality was that despite your separation. Despite the toxicity that had existed in your relationship. Despite being in a happy relationship now. There would always be a part of you that was weak to her. To both her advances and her behavior.
As if sensing your wavering disposition, her touch became heavier. "I'm not wearing any panties under this skirt," she said her tone taking on an innocent air. "Just the way Daddy likes."
That was all it took.
It was pathetically easy in the end for Wonyoung to get you to snap. Though, if anyone was going to be capable of it, it was going to be her. She knew you too well, for better and for worse. In fact, you wouldn't be surprised if her whole look today; the mid-thigh length skirt, the cropped blouse that was a size too small and hugged her frame as a result. She even let her hair down today so it'd be easy for you to grab it. Combine that with her lack of underwear and calling you daddy and, well, you never stood a chance.
You surged forward, gripping Wonyoung's shoulders and spinning her to face the wall. She lead out a delighted fit of laughter as she arched her back, pressing her ass against your groin. Your hands moved to your buckle, shoving down your pants to free your cock from its denim cage.
"I can't stand you, you know that?"
Wonyoung giggled as she tossed you a look over her shoulder, "Whatever you say, Daddy."
With cock in hand you used the other to shove her skirt up, revealing that she had spoken true in her words. You could see her bare pussy, practically begging for you. You bit your bottom lip, hating that the thought of missing this crossed your mind. "You were waiting for this weren't you?"
"Can you tell?" Wonyoung smiled wickedly, "Can't you see how wet I am for you?"
You could. And if you needed any further confirmation you ran your cock between her legs, coating it in her arousal. You had to stop yourself from delving into any further foreplay. This was just a one-time fuck to get it out of your system. At least that was what you told yourself. But as you slipped the tip of your cock into her and began to thrust forward, you were reminded of why it had been so hard to quit Wonyoung in the first place.
"Oh fuck yes, Daddy," Wonyoung said, her back arching further. "You feel how you're stretching my tight pussy? You haven't felt that in a while have you?"
You bit back the urge to tell Wonyoung that wasn't how that worked. Now wasn't the time for a biology lesson nor defending your girlfriend's honor. Instead you focused on stuffing her inch by inch, watching as her pussy swallowed more and more of you until you were pressed flush against her ass.
"Oh, fuck," you groaned out, your head falling forward slightly.
"It feels good doesn't it? It's perfect," Wonyoung cooed. "We're perfect."
Your brow furrowed slightly. "Don't think I'm won over that easily."
Refusing to give into the sentiment that she was suggesting you slipped your cock out of her before stuffing her again and again. You repeated the process, each time going a bit hard, a bit faster while making sure she felt every inch of your cock. The truth was it was fucking heavenly. Sex had never been the reason your relationship fell apart. And even now months later it was like returning to something familiar. Despite yourself you wanted to enjoy this, for however long it lasted.
Your fingers moved to tangle in her dark, wavy locks, pulling her head back as her lithe body shook with your rough thrusts.
"You like that, Wony? This is what you wanted right?" You taunted, giving into the moment as you seized back control.
"Yes!"
"You couldn't find anyone else to fuck you this good could you?"
"Noo," she moaned.
You tugged on her hair roughly, "No, what?"
"No one fucks me this good, Daddy!" Wonyoung cried out.
You rewarded her diligent response with a spank on her fit ass.
"Mmmfph!" She moaned, biting her bottom lip as you continued to fuck her roughly. You could feel her walls tightening around you, her juices already dripping around your cock each time you pulled out of her. The telltale signs that her first orgasm was on the horizon were there for you to see. The way her cheeks flushed, the way her mouth hung upon as she did her best to hold herself against the wall. All she needed was for you to push her over the brink.
"Are you going to come for me? Come for daddy," you whispered against her the shell of her ear as you stuffed her.
"F-fuck! I'm coming!" Wonyoung cried out, not even bothering with trying to contain her moans of pleasure. The look on her face was pure ecstasy and you found it was a look that, despite having near memorized it, it was one you missed.
Her walls tightened around your length as her orgasm shook her body. You were relentless, continuing to fuck the top idol through her climax. One arm slipped around her waist should her legs go weak on her. By the time it was all over she had leaned forward, her face pressed against the wall, her eyes slightly glazed over as her body rocked with your slower thrusts.
As you looked at her perfect ass still pointed out to you, an idea popped into your head.
"Don't move" you instructed her, though you weren't sure if she comprehended you.
You slipped your cock out of her, ignoring the lazy "Hey..." That came from Wonyoung at your action. You were still achingly hard and now thoroughly coated in her juices. That would come in handy soon enough. You got down on your knees, spreading her firm cheeks. Her pussy lips were swollen from your rough fucking but that wasn't your target, instead your tongue was probing her asshole, much to Wonyoung's surprise.
"W-what are you doing," she asked, the intrusion bringing her some of her senses back. Still, she made no move to stop you.
Her inaction only emboldened her as your tongue worked her backdoor. In all the months the two of you had spent together. In all the spontaneous sessions that broke out between you whether it was loving or after a fight, this was the one hole that Wonyoung had never let you claim. In fact, she had been adamant about it every time you even mentioned it. But you had a plan for that now. When you were satisfied you withdrew your tongue and moved to test her hole with your index finger.
"Really, what are you up to back there?" Wonyoung said, letting out a shaky breath.
"Ssh, just relax," you instructed her.
"You – fuck – you know that's off-limits," she returned.
Now was your trump card.
"Sunmi let me fuck her ass."
A poignant pause hung in the air. It was as if Wonyoung was considering what you had just said. Though, given her actions thus far, you had a feeling you already knew her mind was made up. Wonyoung wasn't nearly as cut-throat as some made her out to be but she wasn't someone who took kindly to coming in second place. Least of all when it came to you.
"Make sure you don't go to hard" she finally said. "And you better soak your cock, I'm not some stretched out hag."
"Unnecessary," you chided her. Still, she was right on one point. You returned your tongue to her asshole, preparing it the best you could before moving back to your feet. Your cock slipped inside of Wonyoung again, giving her a few rough thrusts before pulling out and applying some more natural lubrication of your own as you spit on your cock. Finally you were ready. Well, as ready as you could be. Mostly your cock was just aching at the thought of finally being inside Wonyoung's ass.
You positioned your tip at her entrance, gently beginning to push the head forward. "Remember to relax," you said, a hand on her lower back.
"Oh, fuck," Wonyoung swore, her cheek pressed against the wall. "You're too fucking big."
"I thought you liked that," you taunted her.
"Shut up," she groaned.
You couldn't help but chuckle. There was the Wonyoung you knew. Not the princess she pretended to be in front of the camera. You continued pushing ahead, slow and steady as the head of your cock finally penetrated her.
"Holy shit..." You muttered under her breath.
"Fuck. Just....wait there a second," Wonyoung muttered, one long arm reaching back to press against your hip as she got accustom to the new stretch.
You were more than happy to abide. Even just having past the head of your cock in her ass had you reeling. You knew that some of your reaction would be based on the novelty of it. On the fact that you were fucking Jang Wonyoung's ass for the first time. That you were the only person to ever do so. But the truth was it also felt far better than you could have imagined. It wasn't your first time. You hadn't lied when you said that Sunmi had taken you first. And, to be fair, you had loved it then too. But it had been different. You had merely experienced it as Sunmi rode you, in control the entire time. On top of that,t here wasn't the same history. As much as you hated to admit it, it didn't compare to this.
"Okay," Wonyoung said, breaking you from your thoughts, "You can move."
That was all you needed to hear. You pushed forward, inch by inch watching as her hole stretched around your cock until you made it about halfway down the length of your shaft.
"This will have to do," you grunted.
You began to move your hips, slowly at first as you rocked against her before adding more vigor. Steadily with drawing your cock before filling her backdoor again and again. Soft pants left Wonyoung as her nails dug into your flesh, her hand holding onto your thigh.
"How does it feel," you asked her.
"Like I'm being split in half," she groaned.
"And?"
Wonyoung was silent for a moment before a breathless, "...so good."
"Yeah?" Your cock twitched inside of her.
She nodded, her eyes closed, "Fuck yes. Fuck, your cock feels so good inside my tight little asshole."
"That's right," you said, picking up the pace. "And no one will make you feel like this."
"It's all yours," Wonyoung moaned. "Always yours, Daddy."
Somewhere along the way you had transitioned to the one who was laying a possessive claim as opposed to Wonyoung. Whatever, you tossed it up to the heat of the moment. This changed nothing but it did motivate you to see this through to the end. After that it'd be like this never happened but until then her ass was yours.
Your grip on her hips tightened as your pace increased, pounding her backdoor. Wonyoung's hand dipped between her thighs, rubbing her clit as she chased her second orgasm.
"Fuck!" She chanted, becoming more vocal as her climax drew near.
"I'm going to come," you grunted. "I'm going to fill you up."
Wonyoung didn't have the capacity to reply, instead her mouth fell open in a silent cry as her second orgasm washed over her. Not one to be a liar you finally managed to fit your entire length into her ass, just in time for your own release to hit you. Your cock swelled before spilling an obscene amount of cum into her bowel. As you pulled your cock out you watched your cum ooze out of her puckered hole.
"Jesus christ..." You muttered, chest heaving. The sight alone was damn near enough to make you want a round two.
For once Wonyoung didn't have a smart comeback, instead slowly sinking to the ground in a heap, her cheek still pressed against the wall as she tried to catch her breath. Idly you couldn't help but wonder if this was how she imagined this encounter was going to go when she first confronted you. Maybe you'd get to ask her once some of her senses returned. For now you just wanted to bask in the pleasure of what had just happened without thinking too hard.
TWO WEEKS LATER.
"Un-fucking-believable."
You stared at your phone, watching as the latest tiktok reel came across your screen. You watched as your girlfriend, Sunmi, and your ex-girlfriend, Wonyoung, completed a dance challenge together. Of course, Sunmi had no idea about your past relationships. Wonyoung on the other hand was well aware.
And yet here she was, doing a dance challenge with the same woman whose boyfriend had been fucking her ass not two weeks earlier.
You could only shake your head in disbelief and some mild concern. "What the hell are you plotting, Wony."
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