#casual fridays are my favorite part of the work week

[ddaengju]

they should invent a waking up in the morning that doesn't feel like dragging my soul through glass

[missarchive]

hardcover hearts - spencer reid

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

who? bookstore owner spencer reid x fem!reader

category: fluff, smut, awkward hopeless romantic!spencer

content warnings: NSFW MDNI!! loss of virginity, unprotected p in v, sub!spencer, dom!reader, fade to black smut

word count: 4.5k

a/n: finally clearing out my drafts! as always, feedback is greatly appreciated.

You’re not sure when it started. Maybe it was the first time you walked into the little bookstore tucked into a quiet corner of the city. Or perhaps it was the second time, where you lingered just long enough to notice the awkwardly endearing owner behind the counter, his messy hair and kind smile hard to miss. Whatever it was, you found yourself coming back every Friday, drawn to both the books and the man who sold them.

The owner, Spencer Reid, seemed as much a part of the bookstore as the shelves themselves. It was his dream come to life–a cozy haven filled with the stories he loved. And, while he wasn't exactly outgoing, there was something charming about the way he awkwardly pushed his glasses up on the days he wore them, or rambled when you asked for a recommendation. 

Today was no different. Or, at least, it didn't start out that way.

You stepped into the shop, the bell above the door chiming softly. Spencer was behind the counter, organising a stack of novels. When he looked up and saw you, his eyes widened slightly, and he nearly dropped the books in his hands. 

“Hi, Spencer,” you greeted, offering him a warm smile.

“H-Hi,” he stammered, fumbling to adjust his glasses. “Good to see you. Uh, new arrivals are on the table by the window, if you’re interested.”

“Perfect,” you replied, heading toward the display.

As you browsed, you felt his gaze on you now and then, though he quickly looked away whenever you glanced in his direction. It was cute, how shy he was. You spent some time scanning the shelves, fingers grazing the spines of books, before finally making your selection and heading back to the counter.

When you placed the book in front of him, you couldn’t help but notice his reaction. Spencer’s face turned bright red as he glanced down at the title—a spicy romance novel with a sultry cover that left little to the imagination.

“This one caught my eye,” you said, trying to sound casual but secretly amused by his flustered expression.

“O-Oh,” he stammered, fumbling with the scanner. “That’s, uh, a good choice. I mean, it’s very… popular.”

“You’ve read it?” you teased, watching as his blush deepened.

“What? No!” he blurted, then immediately winced at his own outburst. “I mean, not that there’s anything wrong with reading it. It’s just not, uh, my usual genre.”

You laughed softly, enjoying how endearing he was. “It’s okay, Spencer. I’m sure it’ll be a… fun read.”

He nodded wordlessly, scanning the book and placing it carefully in a bag as if it were fragile. When he handed it to you, his fingers brushed yours, and you felt a small spark that made your stomach flutter.

“Thanks,” you said, lingering just a moment longer. “See you next week?”

“Y-Yeah. See you next week,” he replied, his voice barely audible.

As you walked out the door, you glanced back to see him sitting down behind the counter, his face buried in his hands. You couldn’t help but smile, wondering if he’d ever work up the courage to say more. Until then, you’d keep coming back, hoping that one day he might make the first move. After all, you had plenty of time—and plenty of books to read.

Friday had rolled around again, and as usual, you found yourself eagerly stepping into Spencer’s bookstore. The familiar chime of the bell felt like a call to a place that was quickly becoming your favorite corner of the world.

Spencer was at the counter, as always, fiddling with a stack of receipts. His cardigan today was navy blue, and his hair had that perpetually tousled look that you were starting to associate with him. When he noticed you, his eyes widened slightly, and his hands froze mid-motion.

“H-Hi,” he greeted, his voice a bit higher-pitched than usual.

“Hi, Spencer,” you replied, giving him a warm smile. “How’s it going?”

“It’s, um, good. Quiet morning,” he said, quickly adjusting his glasses, though they didn’t look even remotely out of place. “And you? Finding anything interesting?”

“Not yet,” you said, heading to the shelves. “But I’m sure I will.”

You browsed for a bit, your fingers tracing over the spines of books. You could feel Spencer’s gaze flitting toward you every so often, though he tried to look busy whenever you turned around. Finally, you selected a new title—a romantic suspense novel with a rather provocative cover.

When you placed it on the counter, Spencer’s reaction was immediate. His face turned an unmistakable shade of red, and his mouth opened as if to say something, but no words came out. He stared at the book for a moment too long before fumbling with the scanner.

“This one looks fun,” you said casually, watching his expression closely.

“F-Fun,” he repeated, his voice cracking slightly. He cleared his throat. “Yeah, it’s… popular. A lot of people seem to, um, enjoy it.”

You bit back a grin as he carefully bagged the book, avoiding your gaze entirely. But instead of handing it over right away, Spencer hesitated. His fingers tightened slightly around the edge of the bag, and his brow furrowed as if he were wrestling with something internally.

“Is everything okay?” you asked gently.

He glanced up at you, his eyes wide and nervous. “I—I need to ask you something. Or, um, say something. If that’s okay.”

“Of course,” you said, curiosity piqued.

Spencer set the bag down and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, a telltale sign of his nervousness. He opened and closed his mouth a couple of times before finally speaking.

“I—uh, I can’t stop thinking about the books you’ve been buying,” he blurted, his words rushing out in a tumble. “Not in a bad way! It’s just—they’re very… romantic. And… intimate. And I guess I just started wondering if—if you read them because you like the stories, or because…”

His voice trailed off, and he looked absolutely mortified. You tilted your head, letting him flounder for a moment before gently prompting, “Because…?”

“Because I don’t know anything about that stuff!” he admitted, his cheeks blazing. “I mean, I’ve read about it, obviously—academically. But I’ve never… I’m not exactly… experienced. And it made me realize how, um, unprepared I’d be if—if someone ever expected me to…”

He cut himself off, burying his face in his hands. “Oh my God. I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry. Please forget I said that.”

Your heart softened at his vulnerable confession. Slowly, you reached out and touched his hand, coaxing him to look up.

“Spencer,” you said gently, your tone free of judgment. “It’s okay. Really.”

He peeked at you through his fingers, his expression equal parts mortified and hopeful. “It is?”

“Yes,” you assured him, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. “It’s actually kind of… sweet that you’re so honest about it. Most people wouldn’t admit something like that.”

Spencer exhaled shakily, lowering his hands. “I just… I didn’t want you to think I’m avoiding the topic because I’m, uh, judging you or anything. It’s the opposite, actually. I think you’re…”

He stopped himself, clearly unsure if he should continue.

“You think I’m…?” you prompted, your heart beating a little faster.

“I think you’re amazing,” he said softly, his eyes meeting yours. “And way out of my league. But I can’t stop thinking about you. Or the books you’ve been buying. And I—” He swallowed hard. “I don’t want to mess this up by being… me.”

Your chest tightened at his earnestness. “Spencer,” you said, your voice warm. “You’re not going to mess anything up. If anything, you’re the reason I keep coming back here.”

His eyes widened. “Really?”

“Really,” you said, smiling. “And for the record, I think it’s brave of you to admit all of this. It makes me like you even more.”

Spencer blinked, as if your words didn’t compute right away. “You… like me?”

“I do,” you said simply. “And if you want, maybe we could… take things slow? Get to know each other better? No expectations, just us?”

A small, tentative smile broke across Spencer’s face. “I’d like that. A lot.”

You took the bag from the counter, your fingers brushing his as you did. “Good. Then it’s a date.”

Spencer’s blush returned full force, but this time, there was a spark of confidence in his eyes. “A date,” he echoed, his voice soft but certain.

As you left the store, you glanced back and saw him standing there, still looking a little dazed but undeniably happy. You couldn’t wait to see what came next.

You couldn’t help but feel a mix of excitement and nerves as you walked into the small café where you and Spencer had agreed to meet. It wasn’t far from the bookstore, and the cozy ambiance—a mix of soft lighting and the smell of fresh coffee—felt like the perfect backdrop for your first date.

Spencer was already there, sitting at a small table by the window. He was fidgeting with his watch, glancing at the door every few seconds. When he saw you, his face lit up, and he quickly stood, almost knocking over his chair in the process.

“Hi,” he said, his voice just a little too loud before he cleared his throat and tried again. “Hi.”

“Hi, Spencer,” you replied, smiling at his endearing nervousness.

“I, uh, got us a table,” he said, gesturing awkwardly. “It’s by the window because I thought you might like the view. But if you don’t, we can move. Or—”

“This is perfect,” you interrupted gently, taking the seat across from him.

He visibly relaxed, sitting down as well. A server appeared, and you both placed your orders—coffee for him, tea for you, and a couple of pastries to share.

“So,” Spencer began once the server left, clasping his hands on the table. “I, um, did some research on first dates.”

“You did research?” you asked, amused but not surprised.

“Yes,” he admitted, blushing. “I wanted to make sure I, uh, didn’t mess this up. Apparently, asking questions is a good way to, um, get to know someone better.”

“You’re doing great so far,” you assured him.

He smiled, his nerves slowly giving way to that boyish charm you were growing so fond of. “Okay. So, um… what made you start coming to the bookstore? Was it just the books, or…?”

You tilted your head, pretending to think. “Well, the books were part of it. But the owner? He might’ve been the bigger reason.”

Spencer blinked, caught off guard. “Me? Why me?”

“Why not you?” you countered. “You’re smart, sweet, and passionate about what you do. Plus, you have great taste in quotes.”

He ducked his head, clearly flustered. “That’s, um, very kind of you to say.”

“It’s true,” you said firmly.

Spencer’s coffee arrived, sickly sweet, giving him a moment to recover. He stirred it thoughtfully before glancing up at you, his expression more serious now.

“Can I ask you something?” he said.

“Of course.”

“It’s about the books,” he admitted, his blush deepening. “The, um, romance ones you’ve been buying.”

You raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile playing on your lips. “What about them?”

“I’ve just been… curious,” he said, stumbling over his words. “About what you like about them. Not that there’s anything wrong with liking them! I just—well, I don’t really understand the appeal. But I want to.”

You couldn’t help but smile at his earnestness. “Are you asking because you want to understand me better?”

“Yes,” he admitted without hesitation.

Your heart swelled at his honesty. “Well, for me, it’s not just about the romance or the steamy parts—though those can be fun,” you said, watching his blush deepen. “It’s about the connection between the characters. The tension, the buildup, the way they overcome obstacles to be together. It’s… exciting and comforting all at once.”

Spencer nodded thoughtfully, his brows furrowed in concentration. “So it’s about the emotional journey, not just the… physical aspects?”

“Exactly,” you said. “Though I won’t lie—the physical parts are written pretty well too.”

Spencer’s ears turned bright red, and he took a long sip of his coffee to hide his face. You laughed softly, reaching across the table to touch his hand.

“Spencer,” you said, your tone light but sincere. “You don’t have to worry about comparing yourself to fictional characters. You’re already more thoughtful and charming than most of them.”

“Really?” he asked, his voice small but hopeful.

“Really,” you said, squeezing his hand.

He smiled, a genuine, heart-melting smile that made you forget about everything else around you.

The rest of the date passed in a blur of conversation and laughter. Spencer opened up about his love of obscure literature and his dream of turning his bookstore into a community hub for readers. You told him more about yourself, and by the time the check came, it felt like you’d known each other for years.

As you left the café, Spencer walked you to your car, his hands stuffed in his pockets. He hesitated for a moment before saying, “This was… really nice. Better than I thought I’d be at, honestly.”

“You did great,” you assured him, stepping closer. “I had a wonderful time.”

“So did I,” he said softly, his eyes meeting yours.

For a moment, it felt like the world paused. Then, tentatively, Spencer leaned in and pressed a kiss to your cheek. It was quick and sweet, but it left you feeling warm all over.

“Goodnight,” he murmured, his voice barely audible.

“Goodnight, Spencer,” you replied, smiling as you got into your car.

Just as Spencer turned to head back toward the bookstore, you rolled down your window and called out, “Spencer, wait!”

He stopped mid-step, turning to look at you with wide eyes.

“Do you want to come back to my place?” you asked, your voice soft but sure.

His surprise melted into a shy, hopeful smile. “I’d like that.”

The ride to your apartment was quiet, but the tension between you was undeniable. Spencer sat with his hands tightly clasped, his gaze flickering to you every so often. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable—it was charged, like the moment before a storm.

Inside, you gestured toward the couch. “Make yourself comfortable. I’ll grab us some tea.”

He hesitated for a second before perching on the edge of the couch, his eyes scanning the room like he was trying to take in every detail. By the time you returned, he’d stood again, nervously wandering over to your bookshelf.

His fingers brushed one of the novels you’d recently bought, and when you handed him his mug, he was staring at the sultry cover. “This one…” he murmured, trailing off as his face flushed.

You set your tea down and stepped closer, gently taking the book from his hands and placing it back on the shelf. “Forget about that,” you said softly, your voice steady.

Spencer turned to you, his face still flushed, his lips slightly parted as if he wanted to speak but couldn’t find the words. You smiled, stepping closer, until you were just inches apart.

When your hand reached up to brush a curl from his forehead, he froze, his breath catching. Slowly, you let your fingers trail down to his jaw, cupping it gently. His skin was warm under your touch, his pulse racing beneath your fingertips.

The first kiss was soft, tentative. You barely brushed your lips against his, testing the waters. Spencer exhaled sharply, his hands twitching at his sides before finally landing on your waist.

When you kissed him again, he responded more eagerly, leaning into you as his grip on your hips tightened. His movements were unpolished, hesitant, but there was something intoxicating about his inexperience—the way he kissed you like he couldn’t quite believe this was happening.

You guided him gently, deepening the kiss as you pressed closer, your hands sliding up to tangle in his hair. A soft sound escaped him, half-surprise, half-pleasure, and it sent a shiver down your spine.

Spencer pulled back just enough to look at you, his chest rising and falling with uneven breaths. His lips were slightly swollen, his expression caught between awe and uncertainty.

You didn’t give him time to overthink. You tugged him down onto the couch, straddling his lap as his hands instinctively found your waist again. His touch was tentative but firm, his fingers curling against your sides as if he was afraid to let go.

When your lips found his again, Spencer let out a quiet groan, the sound muffled against your mouth. His awkwardness was still there, but it was paired with a growing confidence as he followed your lead, his kisses becoming bolder, deeper.

Your mouth tastes like honey, and his lips are warm and soft. The contrast makes him smile into the kiss, pulling back ever-so-slightly, looking down at you and taking his lower lip between his teeth. He looks sheepish, but also pleased with himself.

He was shy, hesitant, and extremely adorable.

"Can we do that again?" He asks, a little breathlessly, his eyes hopeful.

"Sure, Spence, anything you want," You smile softly, cupping his cheeks and bringing his face down towards yours.

Spencer lets out a noise halfway between a groan and a whimper when your tongues meet. His arms tighten around your waist and he pulls you closer, pressing his body against yours.

His hands are large, and hot, and they almost cover your back as his fingertips draw patterns across your skin.

"Have you done this before, Spencer?"

He blushes. "Y-yeah, uhm… actually no. I- I mean I’ve kissed people before! I just-”

You quickly cut him off, pressing a finger to his plush, pink lips. “Let me lead you.’

He nods, his gaze dropping to your lips as his breathing picks up. You smile, tilting his chin up and kissing him softly, his lips parting instantly for you.

You pull back a few moments later, his eyes dark and full of longing as he stares at you.

"Lay down and let me take care of you, pretty boy."

"O-okay." He whispers, nodding his head and moving to the floor, lying on his back.

You crawl over him, his breath hitching as you position yourself above his hips. You can feel the hardness of his cock through the material of his pants and you press yourself down against it, drawing a low moan from his throat.

He closes his eyes, his lips parting as he lets out a soft gasp. His hands reach up to grip your hips, pulling you closer as his breathing grows faster.

"Fuck," he murmurs, his eyes still closed as he rocks his hips upwards. You can feel him growing harder and thicker with each movement, and you press down harder, rubbing yourself against him.

"Please," He whines, his hands fumbling at the front of your dress. "I need- I want-"

"Shh, it's okay, Spencer. I've got you."

He lets out a shaky breath, nodding his head. His fingers slip beneath the hem of your dress and slide over your thighs, moving upwards until they brush the edges of your underwear. You shift slightly, allowing him better access.

He lets out a soft gasp as his fingers brush over the wet spot on the fabric, his cock twitching against your core. You roll your hips against his, feeling his length harden beneath you, and his eyes flutter open, looking up at you with a desperate, pleading expression.

"I'm yours, Spencer. Take what you need."

"God," He whispers, his voice breaking. "I want you so badly."

He surges up, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss, his tongue seeking yours out. You moan into his mouth, pressing your hips harder against his.

"Take it, baby," you whisper, your lips brushing against his as you break the kiss, leaning down to press your mouth to the delicate curve of his neck. Your tongue flicks against his pulse point before you suck gently, drawing a needy whimper from him. His breath is ragged, his chest heaving as his hands grip your hips like you might slip away.

His fingers tremble as they venture beneath the waistband of your panties, the tentative touch sending a shiver racing down your spine. “Please,” he whispers, voice breaking, raw with need. “Just want to feel you.”

With shaking hands, he eases the fabric down your legs, his gaze fixed on you with a mix of awe and hunger. His fingers ghost over your inner thighs, exploring the soft skin with a featherlight touch. His breath catches audibly when his fingertips graze over your warmth, the slickness there making his movements glide effortlessly.

Slowly, tentatively, he drags his fingers up through your folds, his touch hesitant but electrifying. The warmth of your arousal coats his digits, allowing them to press into you with ease. You gasp softly at the intrusion, your hips rolling forward instinctively, grinding against his hand as you bury your face into the crook of his neck.

Your lips trace a line along his jaw, leaving soft, open-mouthed kisses that make him shudder beneath you. His voice is barely audible when he chokes out, “Like this?” His brows furrow with concentration, his inexperience evident but endearing.

Your walls flutter around him, pulling him deeper, and he groans low in his throat. “Yes,” you breathe, your voice hitching as you rock against his hand. “Just like that.”

You lift yourself slightly, reaching between you to help free him from his boxers. His cock springs free, hard and aching, the tip brushing against your entrance and sending a jolt of heat through you both.

He groans, his head falling back, lips parted as he struggles to catch his breath. His eyelids flutter closed, and his hands grip your hips, tentative but steady, guiding you as you sink down onto him. A low moan escapes you as he fills you, the stretch delicious and all-consuming, igniting a slow, smouldering heat that spreads through your entire body.

You pause for a moment, savouring the way he feels inside you, how perfectly he fits. Beneath you, Spencer’s breath hitches, his chest rising and falling in rapid, shallow gasps. His fingers tighten against your skin, trembling slightly as though he’s barely holding himself together.

“Look at you,” you murmur, your voice low and sultry as you brush a hand through his sweat-damp curls. “So fucking pretty, Spencer. You feel so good inside me.”

His eyes flutter open at your words, wide and glassy with awe. “You—you’re incredible,” he stammers, his voice cracking slightly.

You smile, leaning in to kiss the corner of his mouth, your hips starting to roll in slow, deliberate movements. “Doing so well f’me, baby,” you praise, your voice breathy. “Fill me up so nicely.”

A deep groan escapes him, his grip on your hips growing firmer as he instinctively lifts his own to meet your movements. His inexperience is evident in the unsteady rhythm, but the sincerity and hunger behind every thrust make your stomach tighten with pleasure.

“That’s it, Spencer,” you murmur, your lips brushing against the shell of his ear. “Just like that. Keep going, baby—making me feel so good.”

He gasps, the sound turning into a soft whimper as you grind down on him harder, taking him even deeper. “I-I can’t believe this,” he breathes, his voice raw with emotion. “You’re so perfect, I don’t—God, I don’t deserve this.”

You pull back just enough to cup his jaw, forcing him to meet your gaze. “Hey,” you whisper, your tone firm but tender. “Don’t say that. You’re amazing, Spencer. You deserve this—you deserve everything.”

His lips part, but whatever words he might have said are lost in a broken moan as you start moving faster, your hips rocking in a steady rhythm that has him gripping you tighter, his nails pressing into your skin.

“Feel how wet you make me?” you murmur, your voice dripping with heat as you guide his hand down between your bodies, letting his fingers brush against where your bodies are joined. “That’s all for you, Spencer. You’re driving me crazy.”

He groans deeply, his eyes squeezing shut as his hand lingers there, his touch hesitant but electrifying. “I—I’ve never...” His voice trails off into a shuddering gasp as you grind against him harder.

“You’re perfect,” you whisper, your lips brushing against his neck as you kiss and suck at the sensitive skin there. “So good for me. You feel so good inside me, baby. Keep going—don’t stop.”

His breathing grows more ragged, his movements becoming erratic as his control begins to slip. His hips jerk upward, meeting yours with increasing desperation, and he chokes out a shaky moan.

“God, I—I don’t think I can hold it,” he stammers, his voice breaking.

“Don’t hold back,” you murmur, your own voice trembling with pleasure. “I want to feel you, Spencer. Cum for me, baby. Let me see how good I make you feel.”

His entire body tenses as he gasps, “m gonna cum.” His fingers dig into the soft curve of your waist, holding you firmly in place as his hips buck upward, driving himself deeper into your heat.

“That’s right,” you murmur, your voice a breathy encouragement as you move with him. “Cum for me, baby.”

The words push him over the edge. His back arches off the couch, his face contorting with pure, unfiltered pleasure as his release takes over. His cock pulses inside you, the sensation leaving you breathless as his cries fill the room, raw and beautiful.

You watch him fall apart beneath you, his chest rising and falling rapidly, his hands clutching your hips as though grounding himself. His eyes squeeze shut, his head thrown back, and his lips form your name like a prayer.

As his orgasm subsides, he gasps, his hips still moving reflexively, as though he can’t let go of the moment. You run a hand through his sweat-damp curls, your touch soothing as his breathing begins to slow.

“So perfect,” you whisper, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to his forehead.

His eyes flutter open, dazed and glassy, and he gazes at you with something like reverence. “Thank you,” he murmurs, his voice shaky and soft.

You smile, brushing your thumb over his flushed cheek. “You’re welcome, sweet boy.”

With care, you lift yourself off of him, both of you wincing at the loss of connection. You settle beside him, pulling a blanket over your bodies, your fingers tracing lazy patterns along his chest as he drifts into a contented haze.

And there, in the quiet aftermath, you feel his hand find yours, holding it tightly as though grounding himself in you.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

[lay-z]

Kinda kinky, but made it domestic and fluffy. (I guess, idk...) Also, very long for some reason, sorry. MINORS, DNI! 18+ !!! Pairing: F!Reader x Simon 'Ghost' Riley Warnings/Info: Established relationship; domesticity; fluff; consensual smut; masturbation kink; praise kink; some dirty talk; explicit language; cussing

It's Friday evening, barely past 8 pm, inside your apartment in the private 141 apartment complex on base.

After a late dinner – homemade lasagna with fresh ingredients, because you always thrive to get something proper other than MRE's into Simon's and your own system – you and your boyfriend are sprawled out on your large deep brown leather couch.

Cuddling, resting, and relaxing after a tough week of training and "important" briefings on duty.

The atmosphere is filled with contentment and coziness, while the delicious smell of lasagna and the fresh shower steam wafting into the open living space from the nearby bathroom, still linger in your shared apartment. The lights are off, except for the vanilla-scented candle you’ve lit on the white sideboard and the flickering lights of the TV screen illuminating the spacious room.

With the both of you now suffering from a food coma, Simon is laying on his broad back, taking up nearly all of the couches’ space. One muscular arm tucked behind his head on the armrest casually, the other hand playing with a few strands of your hair on the back of your head, his eyes half-lidded and glued to the large flat TV mounted on the opposite wall, currently playing the first episode of Band of Brothers, after you two had finally settled on something to watch – something you'd both enjoy.

Meanwhile, you're laying between his spread thighs, draped over him with your cheek resting on his lower stomach, your right hand rubbing slow, soothing circles over his lax abs with your flat palm and tracing the many faded scars while his tight black shirt is rucked up to his chest; his belly now slightly round and full, sporting a food baby, and thus not as hard and ripped as it usually is.

You can hear his stomach work as your ear presses against his pale skin, his gut already processing the food and sounding like a bunch of whale calls while his strong heartbeat fades into the background noise like a steady drum. It's an odd concoction of sounds, and you swiftly find yourself paying more attention to your boyfriend's bodily functions than your favorite war show playing on TV.

"What's so funny, eh? We're laughin’ at WWII now?" Simon asks eventually after your second quiet snicker to yourself, his deep voice sounding gruff and heavy with beginning fatigue, though it still carries that familiar dry, deadpan humor of his.

"Nope. Nothing," you reply with another breathy chuckle, patting and caressing his lower abdomen reassuringly. Perhaps a little bit too close to his crotch this time.

The sudden movement makes his muscles flex below your palm, and a low groan escapes Simon's slightly parted lips and both actions immediately trigger something within you, like a house cat being taunted by its owner moving their hand below a blanket.

"Don't... don't do that, luv," he chides you gently, cupping his free hand over yours to keep it still on his stomach, "Gimme another good thirty minutes, and I'll rock yer world." Simon tells you, stifling a yawn.

While he keeps your ministrations at bay with his mammoth hand, you prop yourself up on your other elbow with a small pout before you wordlessly begin peppering wet and hot kisses along his belly, down to his naval and lower abdomen, inhaling his masculine scent greedily while your nose nearly digs into his milky, scarred skin.

"Bloody hell, lass – don't, I –" Simon protests half-heartedly, sucking in a sharp breath, before another low groan slips past his lips as he shifts his body beneath you.

"Watch the damn TV and let me do my thing.” You mutter against his skin, though there is no bite behind your words, only teasing and affection – and burning determination. You two didn’t have any time nor strength for sex all week and you suddenly feel like making up for it now.

A low grumble vibrates in his chest in return and you know he wants to object again, but then he doesn't, because Simon is low-key just as horny as you are – he was just trying to be mindful, thinking you’re too tired to engage in anything sexual with him tonight.

"Always so goddamn bossy when we're alone," he mutters instead, clicking his tongue in mock exasperation, though a small smirk tugs at the corner of his scarred mouth.

“C’mere then, lovey,” he murmurs in his deep, gravelly voice, swiftly pulling his black T-shirt over his head and letting it fall down on the fluffy carpet next to the couch haphazardly, before he audibly pats his now bared chest in silent command with the hand that was previously tucked behind his head.

He needs to feel your lips on his first; ease in to this slowly before he might come too quickly; it’s been a week after all and Simon is only now realizing how tight his balls are.

However, you shake your head with a cheeky smirk, nuzzling the tip of your nose into the coarse dark hair of his thin happy trail, feeling his muscles flex at the sweet touch, before lifting your head to gaze up at him through your lashes.

“I wanna suck you off, baby. Can I?” You ask in a sultry purr, almost innocently, batting your eyelashes at him as you tug on the waistband of his grey sweats, pulling at it playfully before letting it snap back against his skin.

A rough groan escapes Simon as he watches you play with the thick hem of his pants and he already knows, despite his stamina, it will be a quick first round tonight; he’s way too sensitive and you know exactly what to do to drive him wild with lust. That familiar heat of arousal is already pooling into his gut and making his blood rush south.

“If I say no, what’re ye gonna do, hm?” He counters gruffly, biting back a sly smirk; his dark eyes fixated on yours, burning and molten and filled with desire and curiosity – because he rarely denies you anything, if ever.

“Maybe I’ll just do it myself,” he adds after a beat of silence, “Make myself feel good.”

Simon can practically watch how you process, assess, analyze his words in the span of mere seconds, but then your pupils dilate comically large, like a cartoon characters, and a foreign look appears on your face, one he’s never seen before. His heartbeat accelerates and he grunts lowly as you push yourself off his stomach to sit back on your haunches between his spread legs while the soft leather of the couch creaks and shifts as you move.

“Okay,” you retort in a breathy, deadpan voice, your eyes never leaving his, “I’ll watch.”

Simon instinctively shifts on the couch as well, propping his large upper body up in a reclined sitting position when he hears that you mean business. His dark eyebrows raise slightly at your unexpected reaction – the fact that his joke-proposition seems to excite you so immensely. His cock twitches and throbs inside his boxer briefs in return.

His eyes roam over your curves briefly, noticing how your braless breasts rise and fall with heavier yet slow breaths, nipples already peaking behind the fabric of your tight black crop top. You’re clearly aroused and Simon is sure he can smell you already, sweet, slick and warm and, most importantly, all his.

A pleased growl rumbles through his buff chest, until he remembers what exactly made you react this extremely.

"Yer into that?" He asks incredulously, brows drawing together in disbelief and curiosity, though if he's honest with himself, Simon is not surprised in the slightest.

You always encourage him to be more vocal in bed, make sounds, let loose. The dirtier, the better. Plus points if he sounds like a goddamn caveman claiming you; grunting and groaning in your ear while his fat cock is buried inside your tight cunt up to the hilt. You always love that.

"Yes," you answer curtly, squirming in your seat already. "I used to watch blokes jerk off and fuck their pocket pussies all the time on the Hub. Looked up the biggest, buffest lad and imagined you being the one doing it." You confess bluntly, a wicked smirk creeping on your lips as his big doe eyes grow even wider.

"Pff, seriously?"

Simon tries not to show it too obviously, but that is, hands down, the hottest and most flattering admission you've ever shared with him. Gods, he bloody loves your bluntness.

"Yes, sir." You nod enthusiastically while he snorts and rolls his eyes in mock annoyance.

You only ever call him Sir off duty when there's a deeper meaning behind it – a plan.

"So... you – you wanna see that, innit? Wanna watch me have a wank in front of you and look all pathetic while I could also just...fuck you properly instead?" Simon enquires with a hint of sarcasm, scratching the stubble at his chin as he studies your beautiful face appraisingly, still obviously hesitant about the whole idea.

"Uh-huh," You nod again, smiling at him with a certain twinkle in your eyes, like a child finally receiving a toy it always wanted but never dared to ask for. “Please.” You add for good measure, tilting your head to the side in a playful manner.

Simon quirks an eyebrow at you, his eyes flickering over your pretty features to make sure you're really not messing with him. He's never done that before; it has never occurred to him that anyone would want to see him do that.

Masturbating has always felt pathetic and awkward to him; it's a means to an end to him and especially those Combat Jack’s are the worst. Feel sad and horny, jerk off, feel sad and empty afterwards. Done deal.

But how can he ever deny you that particular pleasure when you've always been so good for him? So incredibly patient, caring, and loving despite all his flaws and issues; way before you've become a couple, even.

"Fine. I'll do it," he finally huffs gruffly, his own heart skipping a hard beat, his brows creasing together in a slight frown while he can't hide the obvious tent already sporting in the front of his sweatpants at the sight of your beaming smile and sparkling eyes after getting exactly what you want – again.

"But ye're not allowed to touch me...or yerself. Understood?"

Oh.

Your nostrils flare as you exhale sharply, drumming your fingertips along his clothed thighs as you narrow your eyes at him, pondering briefly.

"Yeah... okay... sounds like torture, but... the fun kind." You agree reluctantly, giving a small shrug, though you quickly notice that his strict order only fuels your growing arousal and excitement. It’ll be like watching your own personal porn after all.

Simon moves his knees then, a silent warning to get your hands off like you agreed to, and you retrieve your hands from his thighs with a tiny snarl that makes him chuckle darkly while you rest your palms on your own thighs instead.

“Be my good girl then and take yer top off, lovey. Show me yer pretty tits, yeah?”

Yet again, a violent shiver runs down your spine as soon as Simon gives you another order in that deep, gravelly voice of his and you don’t hesitate to obey his request – peeling off your tight crop top to reveal your breasts to him at once and dropping the piece of clothing next to the couch, your skin flushed with arousal and carnal desire for him.

“Like this?”

Simon hums deeply in approval, his pink tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip, like a wolf licking its chaps, while his whiskey-colored eyes darken and gleam an inky black as they drink in your gorgeous, bare upper body, now only illuminated by the soft candlelight and the flickering lights of the TV screen, still playing Band of Brothers. You look like an absolute goddess and his fingers itch to reach out and touch, flick his thumbs over your perky nipples just the way you like it, squeeze and grope your tits until you mewl with neediness.

But, alas, he doesn’t.

“Aye, just like that,” he grunts out, shifting and adjusting his position until he’s comfortable on the couch and has a good view on you. “Bloody perfect, you minx.” He adds thickly in a low murmur.

And then, without a further word, Simon finally hooks his right thumb into the waistband of his sweats and boxer briefs and tugs both fabrics down until the stretchy waistbands are snug taut below his balls, right at his taint, adding some pressure to the sensitive spot. He grunts when his large cock springs free from its confinement and rests on his lower stomach, a droplet of pearly pre-cum leaking onto his dark happy trail from his blushing tip, making your mouth water on sight and a breath hitch in your throat.

The musky scent of his arousal hits your nose, and it takes all of your trained willpower not to pounce on him. No, this is special. You can't ruin it with your impatience.

There's a slight grimace on his ruggedly handsome face when he simply grabs his shaft, then his right mammoth hand wraps around his girth completely. It almost looks painful to you, but Simon bites his cheek and fights the immediate shudder of pleasure running down his spine at his own rough touch, giving himself a few slow, tight strokes.

"You're a dry guy?" You ask curiously, scrunching your nose up in surprise. You always use some kind of lube when you give him a nice hand job.

"Huh? Yeah?" Simon's eyes flicker from his throbbing cock to your eyes, then swiftly back again, shrugging his broad shoulders before stilling briefly, then he clicks his tongue in annoyance.

Great, now he feels like he's doing it wrong; something he's been doing to himself for years. It’s not his fault that his calloused hands cannot compare to your soft ones anymore and that you’ve completely spoiled him with your gentle yet firm touch; you’ve utterly ruined him for himself at this point.

“Mhm,” you hum appraisingly, practically buzzing with pent-up arousal as you squirm in your seat between his spread legs again and feel the fabric of your thong rub between your slick folds and against your pulsating clit in delicious torture.

“Spit in your fist, baby,” you advise him then, your own mouth filling with saliva at the sheer thought, completely self-conditioned, “Enjoy it for me. Relax.”

Simon nearly groans at your words, but suppresses the wanton sound again, all to your disapproval.

“Fuck –“ He grunts through clenched teeth, nostrils flaring as he's already crumbling beneath your smoldering gaze and bratty pout.

The urge to just pinch your pretty nipples in retaliation and grab you by the nape of your neck like a disobedient kitten, only to make your plump lips spread and open up over his needy cock, is becoming more unbearable by the second.

Eventually, Simon lifts his right hand, because he does want to put on a show for you, and spits into his rough palm generously.

The sudden choked whimper that spills from your lips at the lewd gesture of his makes it all worth it, tough, and Simon lets out a guttural moan this time, when he cups his leaking tip with his slicked up fist and twists his wrist for more friction.

“This good enough for you, luv?” He manages to ask in between guttural grunts and deep, deliberate breaths.

Meanwhile, you don’t even know where or what to look at as your feral eyes try to drink in and process this whole scene in front of you – his flushed cheeks, glazed eyes, how his abs and the muscles in his chest and arms ripple and flex with each heavy breath and movements, the way he works on his long, girthy cock for you. It’s still such a rare sight for you – seeing him this open and vulnerable.

If Simon would let you, you’d record and safe all of it for later.

“Yes,” you breathe out in return, voice hoarse and thick with lust and need, utterly captivated and amazed by his performance. “God, yes, baby. You look so fucking sexy right now.”

Your praise sends a jolt of hot, searing pleasure straight to his cock while Simon keeps fucking into his rough fist and his breath stutters briefly as he tries to maintain his fervent rhythm, muttering curses under his breath.

When his head lolls back against the armrest while a husky groan tears itself from his throat and his hips buck up into his own hand instinctively, right in front of you, you have to take several deep breaths to keep yourself seated on your haunches and, simultaneously, from reaching out to him – even though it’d be so easy to just…join him, perhaps fondle his balls and increase the pleasure.

Letting out another whimpery moan at the thought, your own fingers are now digging into the fabric of your gym leggings on your thighs, fidgeting and twitching restlessly while you move and roll your hips desperately, trying to find some release as your soaked thong keeps rubbing your swollen clit between your folds.

Simon can already feel how pathetically close he is and he knows it’s only because you’re watching him wank off right now, enjoying it – and praising him for it in that tooth-achingly sweet voice of yours, too.

It usually takes him so much longer to cum on his own, no matter how blue his balls are, but this is different – a good kind of different, and the tension in his lower stomach continues to rise at a rapid pace while he can barely hold eye-contact with your mesmerizing eyes when you’re looking at him like that, all aroused and needy with lust.

“’m close,” Simon huffs out, sounding like an angry bull as he bends one leg and puts the other foot down on the ground for leverage, readying himself for the inevitable.

“Play with yer tits for me, beautiful,” he requests through his clenched jaw as he watches you squirm through heavy-lidded eyes, “Help daddy come.”

“Oh…Fuck…” you practically gasp out as soon as you hear him calling himself that, and your head tilts back slowly with a breathy moan when your hands roam over your bare stomach sensually, up until they rest over your heavy breasts. You begin toying with yourself for him, groping and squeezing the supple flesh, tugging on your stiff nipples and rolling the sensitive buds between the pads of your fingers, until you’re panting for him like a bitch in heat.

While you’re playing with your tits like he asked you to, like the good, obedient girlfriend you are, Simon’s free hand finds its way slithering up his taut stomach, up his heaving chest, until it wraps around his own throat firmly, blunt nails digging into his scarred skin, tightening just enough to feel his own strong pulse flutter and thrum beneath his fingers, while he keeps stroking and fucking his cock into his tight fist with shameless vigor.

You and Simon moan simultaneously then – you at the sight of him choking himself suddenly, without warning, and he, because of all combined sensations bullying him to his peak all at once.

Eventually, his loud breathing keeps hitching, the vein in his temple protruding visibly as he keeps his grip around his throat, and your lips part with a wanton moan as you watch him climax, squeezing your tits harshly, as Simon’s balls tighten, eyes rolling back and fluttering shut and he finally comes with a guttural groan, spilling his thick, white release into his fist until it leaks and drips out from between his rough knuckles, making a mess on his lower belly.

“Fuckin’ hell, luv –“ Simon curses with a low chuckle, and swallows hard, still catching his breath as he releases his throat and lifts his head up from the armrest to look at you, feeling somewhat sheepish all of a sudden.

“That what you wanted?” He asks sarcastically, his voice all wrecked and gruff as he gestures at the mess on his stomach with his clean hand while his body keeps shuddering with aftershocks.

You need a moment to find your voice again, your heart still hammering against your ribcage just from watching him get off while your core is still fluttering and pulsing with want and a desperate need for attention.

“Y-yeah,” you admit with a few tiny nods, still blushing with arousal after heaving a deep sigh, “That was…perfect. You were bloody perfect, honey.” You utter another praise and watch his cheeks tint with a blush.

“Tsk,” Simon scoffs, shaking his head slightly, completely blissed out of his mind, “You better shut it, lass, and help me clean up this mess.” He grunts dismissively, though he’s grinning proudly.

“Gimme ten minutes, lovey.” He remarks with a wolfish smirk, the innuendo clear as he doesn't bother to tuck his half-hard cock back into his sweats, after you’ve retrieved some soft tissues from the box on the coffee table.

Making him cum now merely opened the floodgates, like shaking a champagne bottle and pulling the cork recklessly; his hunger for you has only been ignited and, boy, he is starving again, though not for your delicious lasagna this time.

When you hold out the tissues to him with an amused look, Simon grabs your wrist suddenly and hauls you on top of him again, up to his chest this time, wrapping one strong leg around your body securely to keep you caged in before he cups your cheek with his cum-slicked hand and finally captures your lips in a deep, sloppy kiss.

He knows you don't mind the mess.

[willowsnook]

five years later

Pulled pork, extra meat, sourdough (Part 2…mikes way..?)

andrei iosivas x childhoodbsf!reader

i’d be insane not to love you

————————————————-

Wining and dining people was your least favorite part of your job. You enjoyed the boots on the ground, technical work that you had spent two years heads down doing. But now that you and your partner’s startup was slightly off the ground, you desperately needed investors. So, instead of going out with your friends this Friday night, you were at a corporate happy hour, stuck in countless conversations with older men who didn’t really understand how technology was evolving.

“So explain to me again how this works,” the man you were talking to asked, and you forced your face to remain in the tight smile that you wore. Luckily, your partner jumped in, and you took the time to scan the room, casually sipping your drink. Nobody was that interesting or attractive except a guy who looked like your age by the bar. Wait, he looks so familiar. Tan skin, dark shaggy hair, ripped. And that smile. The smile given to you too many times growing up at the beach, sitting around your family’s dining room table, after high school football games. Andrei Iosivas.

He was your next-door neighbor when you were kids, and you were inseparable. He was your first friend, your first kiss (you were 10), and honestly, the man everyone thought you would marry one day. But as it does, life got in the way. Andrei got a scholarship to Princeton, and you ended up at Stanford. The first year was okay; you flew out to see him once, and he flew to see you, but then he didn’t come home that summer. And you didn’t come home the next summer. It wasn’t anyones fault, you both just got busy. Andrei was trying to make it to the NFL, and you met Jenna and were trying to get an idea you both came up with for an actual software product. Now that you were thinking about it, you hadn’t seen him in five years.

As if sensing your gaze, Andrei looked up, and your eyes locked. His eyebrows shot up in recognition, and that familiar grin spread across his face. He raised his glass slightly in acknowledgment.

You excused yourself from the conversation, hardly hearing your partner's confused protest as you approached the bar. Andrei met you halfway.

"No way," he said, shaking his head in disbelief. "Is that really you?"

"In the flesh," you replied, unable to stop smiling. "What are you doing here?"

“Honestly, I’m not sure,” he said, and you chuckled. “One of my friends was invited, and I wasn’t doing anything, so I tagged along. Can I get you a drink?”

You nodded and he flagged down the bartender for you to order a gin & tonic.

“Little different than the Burnetts and lemonade we were drinking back then huh,” he teased and you fake gagged.

“God, anytime I see that bottle, I want to throw up,” you complained, and he laughed, his eyes twinkling with amusement. You took the drink from the bartender before stepping off to the side with Andrei.

“So I’m here being a supportive friend, what are you doing here?” He asked.

“Trying to find investors for my company,” you said and he nodded, not acting surprised at all.

“You were always the smart one between the two of us,” he said and you smiled.

Another guy walked over to Andrei, slapping his hand on his shoulder, “Hey man, just let me do one more round and we can leave.”

Turning to you, the man took in your appearance appreciatively and Andrei stiffened next to him.

“And who might this be?” He asked, holding out his hand to you. You shook it, amused.

“Y/n Y/l/n,” you introduced and his eyes widened.

“From Teva?” he asked, and you nodded, surprised. "I'm a big fan of your guys’ tech. I talked to Jenna earlier and am going to meet up with her this week for a demo. You are incredibly impressive.”

Blushing you thanked him and Andrei frowned, not liking the interaction.

“Y/n is one of my childhood friends,” Andrei said, joining the conversation, and his friend looked back at you before smirking knowingly.

“Ah yes, you’ve mentioned her before,” he said and Andrei’s face reddened. You shot him a curious look before noticing Jenna waving at you from across the room.

“I have to go, but it was good to see you, Dre. My number is still the same, so let’s catch up soon,” you said, and he nodded, watching you walk toward your friend.

“I can see why you never got over her,” Jack said, watching you shamelessly as you left. Andrei just shoved him as a response.

——————————————————————————

AI: are you free for dinner tomorrow? Practice ends earlier Y/N: that works for me, where? AI: want to just come to my place? I was thinking we could make that teriyaki chicken thing we always used to make Y/N: that sounds amazing, i’ll be there around 6 :30

After work, you stopped by your apartment to change into a comfy pair of leggings and long-sleeve Bengals shirt before entering his address into your GPS. Andrei met you outside and smiled at you as you pulled in.

Walking over to him, you wrapped your arms around to hug him in greeting, sighing as he held you to him and your heart fluttered, just like old times. You knew it was wishful thinking that your crush on him back in the day wouldn’t come back. And now here he was in front of you, twice as attractive as he used to be.

"Come on in," Andrei said, his hand resting lightly on your lower back as he guided you inside. The apartment was spacious and modern, with floor-to-ceiling windows offering a stunning view of the city skyline.

"Nice place," you commented, taking it all in.

"Thanks," he replied, a hint of shyness in his voice. "Make yourself at home. I'll grab us some drinks."

You settled onto the plush couch, watching as Andrei moved around the kitchen with practiced ease. He returned with two glasses of white wine, handing one to you before sitting down beside you.

"So," he began, his eyes twinkling, "tell me everything I've missed in the last five years."

You laughed, launching into stories about your startup, successes and failures, and the whirlwind your life had become. Andrei listened intently, commenting occasionally, a small smile on his face as he took you in.

Out of breath you took a drink at the same time as you heard his stomach growl.

“Why don’t we get started on dinner while you tell me everything that I missed in the last five years,” you suggested and he quickly agreed.

Working on the sauce and chicken, you listened to him tell you about Princeton and then getting drafted to the Bengals. You asked a million questions, all that he answered happily and it began to feel like the two of you had never been apart in the first place.

“Remember that time our jet ski died and we were stranded for a couple of hours,” you said, before taking another bite of the dinner.

“How could I forget?” He joked. “I was freaking out, and you were floating on your back the whole time, telling me that I just needed to ‘be one with the water.’”

You laughed, reminiscing on the memory, remembering a bunch more like it.

“You always kept me calm,” he said softly, looking deep into your eyes. You felt a shift in the atmosphere. “I think it’s what I’ve missed most about you these past years. I definitely could have used you.”

“You are a star, Dre; you didn’t need me,” you said, giving him a small smile. He looked away, contemplating. "What’s on your mind?”

“It’s hard sometimes,” he admitted. “I feel like the whole world is on my shoulders, and I’m one bad game away from losing it all.”

He wasn’t looking at you as he said this; instead, he picked at his nails, an old habit you see that he still hasn’t broken. You took his hand in yours, squeezing gently.

“Remember that game senior year, where you fumbled twice and had zero catches,” you said and he met your eyes, giving you an annoyed look.

“I’d love to see where you are going with this,” he said and you rolled your eyes.

“It was the worst game I’d ever seen you play. And then you showed up for the next game and had 300 hundred receiving yards and three touchdowns. I know you, Dre; one game could never define you.”

Andrei's eyes softened as he looked at you, a mix of gratitude and something deeper swirling in their depths. He squeezed your hand back, his thumb gently stroking your skin.

"You always knew exactly what to say," he murmured. "God, I've missed you."

The air between you crackled with unspoken tension. You were acutely aware of how close you were sitting, how his knee was just barely brushing against yours. Your heart raced as you realized just how much you had missed him too - his laugh, his unwavering support, the way he made you feel seen and understood.

"I've missed you too," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Andrei's gaze dropped to your lips for a brief moment before meeting your eyes again. He leaned in slightly, giving you the chance to pull away if you wanted but you didn’t. Closing your eyes, you waited for his lips to touch yours but instead were jerked back to reality with the sound of your phone.

Looking at the screen, you saw that it was Jenna calling.

“I’m sorry, I have to take this,” you said and he gave you a small smile, face flushed.

“Go ahead, I’ll clean up.”

———————————————————————

It had been a week since you had dinner at Andrei’s and neither of you had brought up the almost kiss. He’d been texting you every day, and there was a new flirty vibe that had you thinking that maybe he did feel the same way about you.

You weren’t thinking about any of that today as you were drowning in work. Someone had found a bug in the software, and you had spent the whole day trying to figure out a fix so that you could push a new patch.

By 8pm, you were emotionally drained and feeling like you were going insane, and after another failure, you simply burst into tears. And if things couldn’t get worse, your phone went off, and Andrei’s face came over the screen.

“Hello,” you said, voice cracking slightly.

“What’s wrong, angel? " he asked concerned, and the use of your childhood nickname made you cry even more. “Are you crying?”

“It’s fine,” you sniffled. “Just work.”

“It’s not fine, I’m coming to pick you up.”

“No, it’s okay.”

“I’ll be there in five,” he said tightly before hanging up.

Sighing, you gathered your stuff and texted Jenna that you were calling it a night as you were completely stuck. Andrei was leaning against his car as you walked out of the building, and your resolve started to crumble the second you saw him. His arms quickly wrapped around you, and you stepped into his touch, clinging onto his shirt.

“Shh,” he soothed. “You’re okay.”

He moved one of his hands into your hair, gently massaging your head and you tried to calm down.

“Sometimes I don’t know if this is all worth it,” you admitted, pulling back to look at him through your teary eyes.

Andrei's eyes softened as he looked at you, his hand coming up to gently wipe away your tears. "Hey, don't say that. You've worked so hard for this. One bad day doesn't negate everything you've accomplished."

You sniffled, leaning into his touch. "I know, it's just... sometimes it feels like too much."

"I get it," he said softly. "But you're not alone in this, okay? You've got people who care about you, who want to support you." His eyes bore into yours. "You've got me."

Your heart skipped a beat at his words. "Andrei..."

He pulled you close again, resting his chin on top of your head. "Come on, let's get out of here. I know just what you need."

Before you could protest, he was opening the passenger door for you. You climbed into his car, pulling the mirror down to wipe the mascara from under your eyes. The car ride was filled with comfortable silence, and you laughed as you saw where Andrei was pulling in.

“I haven’t been here in so long,” you admitted as Andrei got behind another car in the drive-thru of a Steak n’ Shake.

“Me either,” he said, shooting you a playful smile. “But it’s still a reflex to get you a peanut butter chocolate shake anytime I see a single tear on your pretty face.”

You blushed, putting your head into your hands. He grabbed one of your hands, forcing you to look at him.

“No more tears,” he said, and you rolled your eyes but smiled, repeating the phrase to him, just like you had countless times before.

He pulled out his wallet to pay for the shakes and the top of a photograph caught your attention.

“What’s that?” You asked curiously and he looked down to see what you were referring to before he started to stutter.

“Nothing,” he mumbled and you gave him a look. He let you take the wallet and you pulled out the picture. It was of the two of you when you were maybe 15 at the beach by your houses. Andrei’s arms were around you as he stood behind, both of you smiling widely at the camera.

“I love this picture,” you said. “I didn’t know you had a copy.”

“It reminds me of home,” he said, refusing to meet your eyes and you smiled softly to yourself. After handing you your shake, you directed him to your apartment and made the drive over. He followed you in, noting how much your place just felt like you. The apartment was small, but cozy and inviting. The walls were painted a soft cream color, decorated with vibrant paintings and colorful tapestries. The furniture was mismatched but fit perfectly, creating a warm and welcoming atmosphere.

He sank down on your couch as you dug around the remote, finally finding it and flipping on a Hallmark Christmas movie you had bookmarked.

“Are you serious?” He complained and you smiled widely at him.

“I’m the one upset, so I get to pick.”

He patted the space next to him and you sat down, leaning your head into his shoulder as he rested his arm behind you.

As the movie played, you felt yourself relaxing into Andrei's warmth. His fingers absently traced patterns on your shoulder, sending little shivers down your spine. You tried to focus on the cheesy plot unfolding on the screen, but your mind drifted to the man beside you.

"This is nice," you murmured, tilting your head to look up at him.

Andrei's eyes met yours, a soft smile playing on his lips. "Yeah, it is," he agreed. "Just like old times, huh?"

"Almost," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. There was something different now, an electric current running between you that hadn't been there before.

He shifted slightly, his face now inches from yours. "Angel," he breathed, his eyes searching yours. "I've been wanting to tell you something."

Your heart raced as you looked into his eyes, waiting.

“I didn’t know if life would bring us back together, but it did so I don’t want to waste any more time. I’ve been in love with you since we were ten years old.”

Your breath hitched as he kept going.

“Us losing touch was the worst thing that happened to me and I won’t let it happen again. Even if you don’t feel the same, now you know.”

He looked away as he said the last part, clearly stressed which made you giggle. His eyes snapped back to yours questioningly.

“Of course I love you Dre. I’d be insane not to love you,” you told him smiling.

He let out a short laugh before looking down at your lips again. This time, there was no interruption as Andrei leaned in and pressed his lips to yours. The kiss was soft at first, tentative, as if he couldn't believe this was really happening. But as you responded, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer, the kiss deepened, filled with years of pent-up longing and desire.

Andrei's hands found their way to your waist, holding you tight against him as he explored your mouth with his tongue. You sighed contentedly into the kiss, your fingers tangling in his hair. It felt like coming home, like everything in your life had been leading to this moment.

When you finally broke apart, both breathless, Andrei rested his forehead against yours. "I've wanted to do that for so long," he murmured, his eyes sparkling with joy.

You smiled, running your thumb along his jawline. “If only I knew being apart for five years would have made you confess, I would have left sooner.”

[juliennevalery]

✧˖°. So caught up in you ✧˖°.

part three

part two ←

summary: Finally, the long-awaited date with Remus had arrived, and it turn out perfect.

pairing: primary school teacher!remus lupin x single mom f!reader

warnings: just a lot of flufff

wc: 2,6k

a/n: I’m so proud of this chapter, because I was feeling like my writers block was kicking me again tbh, so I hope you will like it, enjoy!

The Friday afternoon sun dipped slightly over the horizon, casting a golden hue on everything it touched. The warmth of the light filtered through the airy curtains of your living room, setting a serene ambiance that contrasted with the nervous flutters in your stomach. As you pulled on your favorite pair of jeans, memories from earlier in the week flashed through your mind. Molly had been thrilled with her school project, a heartfelt painting, and how Remus had been encouraging and excited as she was.

You fiddled with the hem of your shirt, taking a deep breath. It's just coffee, you reminded yourself. But the voice inside you, the one protective of Molly, wary of opening up to anyone again, whispered, that it’s more than that.

Seven years. Seven years since the man you'd trusted shattered your heart and left you alone to pick up the pieces, forcing you to build walls around your heart. Since then, Molly had been your universe, your prime focus. Dates seemed like a distant memory, almost another lifetime's activities, until a certain teacher of your daughter changed it all.

His casual yet earnest invitation had awoken emotions you'd buried deep, kindling both excitement and anxiety. You glanced at the clock – fifteen more minutes. Better get moving.

The café Remus mentioned was quaint and charming, with an old-world vibe. Fairy lights hung from its wooden beams, casting a soft glow, creating an intimate setting. As you pushed through the door, a gentle bell tinkled above you, and the familiar rich aroma of coffee beans wrapped around you like a warm embrace. The ambiance was cozy, with clusters of small tables and plush chairs arranged to encourage quiet conversation.

You spotted Remus almost immediately. He was seated at a corner table, his back straight, glancing through the window with a thoughtful gaze. Today, he wore a simple yet well-fitted navy shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing the same watch you noticed in his classroom. His hair, as winter-brown as autumn leaves, framed his face in soft waves. When his eyes found yours, a warm smile spread across his features, and he stood up to greet you.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice like a balm to your jittery nerves. “I’m so glad you came.”

“Hi, Remus,” you replied, returning his smile with a slightly shaky one of your own. His genuine warmth made you feel more at ease. He pulled out your chair for you, a gesture that seemed both old-fashioned and remarkably sweet, but it made you blush, of course.

As you settled in, a waitress approached with menus, and you both ordered coffee. You opted for a lavender cappuccino, while Remus went for an americano. The initial awkwardness of meeting someone new began to melt away as the conversation started flowing.

“So, how has your week been?” Remus asked, his eyes sincere and attentive.

You sighed lightly, thinking of the everyday hustle and bustle that defined your life. “Busy, as usual. Work, school runs, helping Molly with her homework. It’s never a dull moment,” you said with a soft chuckle. “How about you? I already know that teaching a bunch of energetic kids must be quite the challenge.” The corners of your mouth turned up, as you gave him a small smile.

Remus laughed, a rich, warm sound that made you feel more at ease. “Oh, definitely. But I wouldn’t trade it for anything. Every day is different, and the kids have such unique personalities. Plus, they keep me on my toes, so I’m definitely not bored.” He chuckled, and you noticed that his eyes wrinkled.

It was cute.

The waitress returned with your coffees, and you both took a moment to savor the first sips. The rich, velvety taste of the cappuccino was exactly what you needed to calm your nerves.

“So, Molly seems really happy in your class. She talks about you quite a bit,” you said, breaking the silence.

“Does she now?” Remus replied, his eyes lighting up with genuine interest. “She’s a wonderful kid. Very bright and kind-hearted, it’s good that she talks a lot too. You’ve done an amazing job raising her.” He took a small sip of his hot coffee while not taking his eyes off of yours.

A surge of warmth spread through you at his compliment. “Thank you. She’s my world. I want to be the best for her.” Your shy smile filled his stomach with butterflies.

The conversation flowed easily after that, touching on various topics. Remus shared amusing stories about his childhood, growing up with a love for books and nature, and how he eventually found his calling in teaching. You found yourself drawn to his passion and sincerity. He, in turn, seemed genuinely interested in your life, asking questions about your work and about your experiences raising Molly. The more you talked, the more relaxed and connected you felt. It was as if all the years of guarding your heart had melted away in the presence of this kind, thoughtful man he was.

“And what about hobbies?” Remus asked, leaning forward a bit. “Do you have any time for yourself with such a busy schedule?” He gave you a smirk.

You laughed softly, a sound that came easier now. “Not as much as I’d like, but I try to carve out some time. I love reading, mostly when Molly’s asleep. And I enjoy baking. It’s therapeutic.”

“Oh, baking!” Remus exclaimed with genuine enthusiasm. “What’s your specialty?”

“Cookies, mostly. Molly loves helping me, and it’s always fun for her. Plus, they make the house smell amazing,” you replied, a hint of pride in your voice.

“I’d love to try them sometime,” Remus said, his eyes twinkling with interest. “I have a bit of a sweet tooth.”

“Well, if you play your cards right,” you said with a playful smile, “I might just bring you a batch.”

The light-hearted banter continued, and you began to feel something you hadn’t felt in a long time—hope. Remus wasn’t just a charming man; he was genuinely considerate, compassionate, and someone who seemed to understand the complexities of your life without you having to explain every detail.

As the conversation naturally ebbed and flowed, you found yourself sharing stories and laughter more freely, almost forgetting the initial nervousness that had gripped you at the start. There was a connection growing, a gentle intertwining of shared experiences and mutual respect.

At one point, the topic shifted to music, and Remus's eyes lit up as he talked about his love for old records and vinyl collections. “There’s something about the sound quality of a record,” he said, his hands animated as he spoke, “It's like it captures the soul of the music.”

You nodded, feeling a similar passion. “I completely agree. My dad used to have a huge collection. We spent many Sundays together, listening to everything from classic rock to jazz. Those are some of my favorite memories.” You smiled at the memory of your dad playing his favourite records after work.

Remus leaned back, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. “We should have a listening session sometime. I have a small collection myself. Maybe we can trade favorites?”

The idea filled you with warmth. Spending more time in Remus’s company felt like peeling away layers of guardedness you’d wrapped yourself in for so long. “That sounds wonderful,” you replied. “I’d like that a lot.” You chuckled.

As the hours passed, the café began to fill up with the evening crowd, but it felt like you and Remus were in your own little world. Eventually, you noticed the time and realized how late it had gotten. Neither of you wanted the night to end, but you knew you had responsibilities waiting at home.

“I should probably get going.” said reluctantly, glancing at your watch. “My friend stayed with Molly, and the time flowed so quickly.” You looked out the window, and the sun was already setting.

Remus’s expression softened with understanding, though there was a glint of disappointment in his eyes. “Of course. I didn’t noticed too, to be honest.” He quickly gathered up your things and payed the waitress, both of you standing up from the table. As you gathered your things, Remus walked with you to the door, holding it open for you like a perfect gentleman. The sun had set by now, and the evening air was crisp and cool. Streetlights cast a warm glow on the cobblestone paths as you stepped outside.

You reached for your coat, pulling it tighter around your frame as a gentle breeze blew. The evening air was cool and crisp, the gentle whisper of the wind cutting through the night. The streetlights on either side of the cobblestone path cast warm, gold-hued light.

“Do you mind if I walk you home?” Remus stopped you by gently tugging your arm, a hopeful note in his voice. “I’d like to make sure you get there safely.”

A smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you considered his words. The thought of spending more time with him appealed to you, and you were touched by his concern for your safety. After a brief pause, you responded, "Yeah, sure. If you’d like me to." It was something you weren’t accustomed to experiencing.

Remus and you continued your walk through the peaceful streets as night fully set in. Darkness enveloped you both, but he’s company provided an unexpected comfort, his low voice and soft laughs acting like a soothing balm, diminishing any lingering worry. As you strolled together, your hands hovered close to each other, occasionally brushing against one another, creating a silent connection between you two.

“I had a really great time tonight,” Remus said, glancing sideways at you. “It’s been a while since I’ve done something like this.” He confessed

“What, going on a date? ,” you admitted, your cheeks flushing slightly. The thought of him enjoying your company warmed you from the inside out. “ I haven’t done something like this in years, to be honest. Not sure you’d beat me.” You joked.

Remus looked down at you, a small smile on his lips. "Come on, that's not true," he said, his voice soft and low. "You're way too gorgeous to be on your own all the time.” His words came out in a whisper, a gentle declaration that held a hint of a hidden confession.

A hot flush crawled up your face as he spoke, you found yourself unable to control the smile that spread across your lips. Hoping he wouldn't notice your reaction, you quickly turned your head away, averting your gaze to hide your delighted expression.

Your heart fluttered as he nudged gently into your side, coaxing you to look at him. As soon as you raised your gaze to meet his, you noticed something different in his eyes. There was an undertone in his expression, something that revealed more than just friendly interest.

Remus leaned in closer, his voice a soft whisper, meant for your ears only. He looked at you with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine as he spoke, his words low and serious. "I mean it," he said, his voice barely above a murmur. "You really are beautiful, Y/N. You're incredible."

The conversation drifted into comfortable silence as you strolled, each step bringing you closer to your home and to a moment that both of you felt was inevitable. Remus’s mind whirled with thoughts and emotions. He had been drawn to you the moment he first saw you, but now, having shared this evening with you, he realized it was more than a fleeting attraction. There was something genuine between you two, something worth exploring.

As you approached your house, you could feel a mixture of warmth and nervous energy building up. When you finally reached your front door, you turned to face Remus, the porch light casting a soft glow over you both.

“Thank you for tonight, Remus,” you said, feeling shy but happy. “I had a really good time.”

“Me too.” he replied, taking a small step closer. The space between you seemed to shrink, and he could feel his heart pounding in his chest. “I—well, I wanted to say something…”

You looked up at him, your eyes wide and curious. The moment felt charged, as though the world had paused around you, leaving just the two of you in this bubble of anticipation.

Remus cleared his throat, his nerves getting the better of him for a brief moment. “I’ve really enjoyed getting to know you, Y/N, and I hope we can do this again sometime.”

Your heart fluttered at his words, and a shy smile tugged at the corners of your lips. “I’d like that very much, Remus.”

He took a deep breath, feeling a surge of courage. This was the moment he had been wanting all evening. As he stepped closer, his hand reached up gently to brush a stray lock of hair away from your face. The touch was tender, sending a shiver through you.

“Y/N, can I…” he trailed off, not quite finishing his sentence, his eyes locking with yours, full of unspoken questions and palpable sincerity.

Your breath caught in your throat, and you nodded slightly, giving him permission without words. Remus leaned in slowly, his hesitation clear as he tried to gauge your comfort. But instead of kissing your lips, which he so desperately wanted to do, he decided to start with something softer, something gentle.

His lips brushed against your cheek, a feather-light touch that held all the sweetness and warmth he felt. The kiss was brief but meaningful, lingering in its own delicate way. When he pulled back, you saw that his cheeks were tinged with a faint blush, his eyes searching yours, hoping for a positive reaction.

You felt a warmth spread through you and your heartbeat quickened. That simple, tender kiss had somehow meant so much more. You shyly averted your gaze for a moment, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. “Thank you, again, it was the best night I’ve had in a while” you whispered, your voice filled with genuine appreciation and a hint of bashfulness. “And that was really sweet of you.” You glanced at your boots.

There was a visible tension in Remus’s body before he let out a long breath, his relief showing in the wide smile on his lips. "I wouldn’t have had it any other way, dove.” he confessed, a warm, affectionate smile lighting up his features, but the nickname that rolled off his tongue, stirred something inside you. It was a feeling you thought you hadn't experienced for the longest time. His voice, his presence, and the way he said it sent a shiver down your spine, causing your knees to almost give out beneath you.

You stood there for another moment, neither wanting to break the spell of the evening. Finally, you took a small step back towards your door. “I should get inside. Molly’s probably waiting for me.”

Remus nodded, though he looked reluctant to see you go. “Of course. Have a good night, you two. And thank you for tonight, it was wonderful to get to know you.”

You returned his smile, warmth and contentment spreading through you as you unlocked your door. “Good night, Remus. Take care.”

With that, you stepped inside, closing the door gently behind you. The house was quiet save for the soft sounds of the night outside. As you leaned against the door for a moment, replaying the evening in your mind, you couldn’t help but feel a rush of emotion. The walls you had carefully built around your heart felt just a little less imposing tonight.

You sighed contently, then moved towards Molly’s room to check on her. Finding her sound asleep, curled up with her favorite stuffed animal, brought a smile to your face. You gently stroked her hair, planting a soft kiss on her forehead. The peace you felt in that moment was something you hadn’t experienced in a long time.

part four

taglist:

@idohknow @ahead-fullofdreams @spirit-of-the-hollow @aheadfullofsteverogers

[sex-storytime]

My Boyfriend

I love my boyfriend. I know that is kind of a strange thing to say, or at least it should be an obvious thing to say. There are many different reasons why I love him, but right at the moment I love him because of his dichotomy. I love him because he is so comfortable having multiple facets to his personality. Because he is willing to take chances, and has made me more willing to take chances as well. Because together, we are more than the sum of our parts.

OK, enough of the mushy stuff. The real reason that I am feeling so much love for him right now, and more than just a bit of sexual attraction, would be the fact that he is lying in our bed, fast asleep. Now, to most women, having your man in bed asleep when you come home may not be the most erotic sight in the world. But you don't know my man. You don't know how just watching him sleep for a few minutes gets my pussy juice flowing. I can't help it. There is just something about watching him sleep; oblivious to me that is such a turn on. Maybe it is the voyeurism aspect of it?

I went out with the girls tonight. My man works two jobs right now to help pay off some debts from his past, so even though I work full time as a beat writer for the big paper here in town, I still don't see a lot of him. There are nights that I spend alone on the couch with a warm blanket and a good movie waiting for him to come home. When he does finally walk through the door, I am all sexed up from thinking about him all evening, and he is tired from working a 16-hour day. Even though he is exhausted, he is still a typical male. :) I can just mention casually as he sits down that I had been thinking about him all evening and lightly touching my pussy through my shorts as I watched the movie. Any mention of touching myself will instantly get him interested. Then after I casually mention that my pussy might still be wet, and why doesn't he check for me, well then, that is usually all it takes.

When he pulls down my shorts and sees the wet spot on the crotch of my panties, his cock will immediately get hard, and even though he may have just put in a long day at work, he is still able to give me a wonderful fucking before it is time to head to bed. Usually we don't make it off the couch, he just bends down and nibbles on my clit through my panties for a minute while he strokes his cock through his jeans. I usually have to push him away and remind him that foreplay is always appreciated, but I was wet before he walked in the door, and he just has to slide his cock inside of me for both of us to be happy. Again, being a typical man, he doesn't argue, just unzips his jeans and pulls out that wonderful meat of his. I will slide my panties off and spread my legs in invitation, waiting for that wonderful feeling of his dick inside of me. And I always get my wish. Usually he comes inside of me, which is fine for an end of the day fuck. We can save the facials and pearl necklaces for the middle of the day when I plan to get him off more than once.

So I digress. I was talking about why I love my boyfriend right at this moment. I said that I went out with the girls tonight. He had to work both jobs today, and being a Friday, I knew that he would not be home until around midnight. So I decided at the beginning of the week that I would get some of the girls together tonight so that we could go out. Everyone else in the group was fine with leaving their significant others home for the evening, so we were able to have a blast. Dressing up for each other in our best club clothes; having a wonderful dinner while teasing the poor waiter mercilessly. He must have had to go in the bathroom and jack off afterwards as much as he was looking at our tits down the top of our shirts. Then on to one of our favorite bars afterwards where we could people watch and talk in peace, which for us means lots of bitching and bragging about our mates that we left home that evening. Janice thinks her husband has an unhealthy fascination with his sister. Nancy broke up with her boyfriend last month to start dating another woman who works in the same building she does, so of course we had a ton of questions for her, the first Official Lesbian in our group. And I still don't believe Heather when she claimed that her man was 7 inches long when soft. She had about six shots at that point, so she probably would have said anything to get attention.

So now here I am back home after a night of debauchery. Nancy dropped me off because I had too much liquid fun to drive, and already offered to take me back to get my CRX in the morning. I make sure and take off my sandals before I walk into the house. They make all sorts of noise on the hardwood floors, and I don't want my man awake just yet. I am horny enough that I would love to just barge in and shove his cock down my throat, but another part of me wants to be a little subtler. I think in my inebriated state I would like that better.

His truck was in the driveway, but none of the lights were on, so I knew he had already gone to bed. He has to be back at work in the morning, so I am sure he got clean and went right to sleep. And it appears that he did just that

So I am standing in the doorway of the bedroom looking at my man asleep. I can tell that he has only been down for a little while because the bathroom still smells like bath soap. It is a warm night, so he has dispensed with the covers already, which are now lying on the floor next to the bed. A little bit of light is coming through the blinds, just enough for my eyes to adjust to the darkness and see him in all his glory. His hair is spread out on the pillow behind him, (God I love to run my fingers through that hair!) and because he is lying on his side, I can see how long it is getting. He has been trying to grow it back out for a while, and just recently has gotten long enough to pull back in a ponytail. Or long enough for me to wrap my fingers in and pull his head down when I am desperate for a kiss or three.

But the part of the picture that is the most intriguing for me is what he is wearing. Normally he sleeps in the nude, but tonight it looks like a different story. He is wearing a pair of nylon bikini panties that I bought for him about a month ago. That is the reason that I haven't gone any further into the bedroom. I am just looking at his hip and his ass packed into a pair of panties that I bought for him. Now, before you go jumping to conclusions, this was not my particular fetish to begin with. A few months after we started dating, he started acting really weird one night, and then finally reached under his bed and pulled out a box full of panties. I am not the snooping type, so I never had any idea that it was there. Apparently it was a serious fetish for him, which would explain the six different pairs of panties that he had bought me already at that point. Not only did he like seeing me in panties, but he also liked to wear panties on occasion under his regular clothes. Not in a cross-dresser sense, since he is way too big to be a convincing woman (6'3'', 240 muscular pounds.) More of like a hetero guy sense who thought that if panties could be pretty on women, they could also be pretty on him.

I keep getting distracted. So I am standing in the doorway of the bedroom looking at my man asleep on the bed wearing a pair of white nylon bikinis that I bought him. I also bought myself a matching pair at the same time, and surprised him one evening with both pairs of them. He definitely showed his appreciation that night! So over time, our games have evolved to the point where if I discover him in a pair of panties it usually means that he wants to be strapped. Which kind of surprises me right now. It also excites the hell out of me, but surprises at the same time. My brain is turning over a million times a second thinking about this, but my pussy is only telling me one thing. I was horny before I even left the house, and now I am almost desperate to get off. But why would he want me to take him up the ass when he is exhausted?

Who cares? The thought of going into our toy box, pulling out one of my dildos, and strapping it on to use on him is just killing me. I can feel my nipples getting harder by the second, so I place my sandals down on the dresser in order to use both hands on my tits. I pull my shirt up and pinch my nipples through my bra while I think of lubing up my fingers and sliding them one at a time into his ass. The alcohol is making my head spin a little bit, but I know that finger fucking his ass in preparation for my cock is a major turn on for both of us. I love to hear him moan when I slide that first finger into his ass. It makes my pussy clench every time we do it. Which isn't a whole lot of times, which makes the idea even more exciting now.

I can feel my panties begin to stick to my pussy, so I have to take the time to undo my jeans and pull them down to my knees. It strikes me as I ironic that I am wearing a cotton string bikini that he bought me - we are each wearing gift panties from the other person. My fingers slide directly into my pussy. It is amazing how horny I get when I drink. I pull my other hand away from my tits and use it to flick my clit while I manipulate my hole at the same time. It is so hard to stay quiet while I am doing this, but I don't want him awake. At least not yet.

My brain turns over images of how this scenario could play out. I see myself crawling onto the bed with my strap on already in place, and just feeding that plastic cock to his mouth. I love to pinch my nipples while he is blowing my cock. Or maybe sliding onto the bed and putting the head of my cock against his asshole through the panties while I touch his cock and nibble on the back of his neck. Or maybe even crawl onto the bed and then start to use my tongue on his balls and asshole through his pretty panties. I know that he just finished with a shower, so everything down there is nice and clean, and ready for my tongue. I don't think I have ever heard him moan as gutturally as when I licked his asshole for the first time. It surprised the hell out of him, which was exactly what I wanted at the time. The only problem I see is that I love to suck his cock so much that I might not stop in time. I might start with his ass and balls, and then turn him over so that I can suck the head of his cock into my mouth through the panties. He loves for me to tease him through his panties. But eventually I would have to pull them down far enough for his cock to get out so that I could do a proper job of sucking him off. And I am not sure that I would be able to stop. I would just continue to suck him while I caressed his balls through the nylon. I would also have to turn around to that he could at least use his fingers on my pussy while his dick was in my mouth.

I don't know if I can take much more of this. My pussy is so wet; I am starting to make squishing noises with my hands. I feel like I am ready to get off any second, and my brain hasn't even gotten to the main event yet. I guess that doesn't really matter. Every time that I have fucked him up the ass, I have started coming as soon as I slid into him, and came about every 30 seconds after that until I watch his come spurt out of his cock all over both of us. I like having him on his back so that I can watch him jerk his cock off while I slam into his ass. The look on his face when he is just about ready to go over the edge is priceless. I can feel his ass squeeze my cock harder, his whole body tenses, and then everything goes supernova. Watching him come always gets me off. Always. It's a good thing that we only do this every once in a while. If I asked him to let me fuck him up the ass every day, I think he would be worn out and worthless in a month. It is wonderful to come that hard every once in a while, but every day would kill him.

I can't take this any more. I have to get off. Even though I am slumped against the doorframe with my breasts and pussy in full view frigging myself, he is still fast asleep. Which is the way that I want it. Even though he has extended the invitation to me by wearing those panties to bed, this has become my own private moment. This is my time to just look at him sleeping and get myself off, imagining all of the wonderful things that we do to keep our sex life interesting. My orgasm doesn't hit me like a hammer; it's more like rolling over me like a very large surf wave - all enveloping, but still feeling safe and secure. I have to stuff my shirt into my mouth in order to stifle the scream that is threatening to rip out of my body. As I quietly slump to the floor, the fire works begin to go off in front of my eyes. I guess with my concentrated effort to keep quiet and not wake him up, I was holding my breath. Slumped in the corner, coming down off a very satisfying orgasm, I have to remind my body to breath for a while until it begins to come naturally again.

Through my whole mental adventure just now, my boyfriend has not moved an inch. He must have been very tired, because usually he would have at least stirred when he heard me walk in. I know that he wants me to be in the mood to play - the panties he is wearing tell me so - but I think I will let him sleep tonight. I will just grab a shower to get the smoke smell out of my hair, and then join him in bed. Maybe when he wakes up in the morning and finds me wearing the same pair of panties that he is, along with the matching camisole that I bought for myself, he will forgive me for not waking him tonight. I hope.

[malum-forev]

Hi, can I request ex husband!bucky x reader with the prompt “what makes you think you can…” from the bingo card??

Hi hiii thank you sooo much for your ask! Sooo, I kind of blacked out and ended up writing something that's over 3k words long. Hope you like it! It's kind of a part 2 to this story I wrote! I thought this prompt fit perfectly! get ready for ANGST CENTRAAALLLL

“Please don’t pick up, please don’t pick up, please don’t pick up.” (Y/n) begged, hearing the third ring on her side of the phone. 

She didn’t know what to say. Hell, she didn’t know it was happening until this week! It would have gone completely unnoticed if it hadn’t been for an especially excited teacher. (Y/n)’s stomach just about dropped onto the floor as she heard her daughter’s teacher say how generous and kind Bucky was. 

Another ring, one more and I can hang up. She thought but no, nothing with Bucky was ever simple. He couldn’t not answer the phone when (Y/n) wanted. Was that too much to ask? For Bucky to read her mind?

“Hey, do-“ Bucky stopped himself, trying to mask it with a cough. He couldn’t call you that anymore, he had to remember that. “What’s up?”

“Hi, I just wanted to ask you about something but I guess you’re busy so I’ll just-“

Bucky laughed. “I’m never too busy for you.”

(Y/n) rolled her eyes, talk about nothing being simple. He couldn’t even make the divorce that he wanted easy!

“So, I didn’t know this happened or better yet how it happened but,” She took a deep breath. “Peanut’s school is having a gala, a fund raiser and somehow P put your name down.”

The line went silent for a couple of seconds.

“I tried to explain to the school that you would be busy and that you don’t even go to your work galas.” She tried to joke, gnawing on her bottom lip nervously.

Bucky broke the silence with a noise. “Mhm.”

“But they said that when the parents saw the school was auctioning a day with an Avenger, ticket sales went up like 200 percent.”

“Oh Peanut.” Bucky groaned. 

“I know you’re probably going to be busy,” (Y/n) said. “I just had to ask. P threatened to paint her hair blue if I didn’t give you a call.”

“She gets that from you.” Bucky’s low chuckle sent tingles through her body. 

(Y/n) leaned on the wall behind her with a deep breath, she could always count on Bucky to calm her nerves. “Sure, we can say P gets her determination and ability to blackmail from me and not her father, James ‘Bucky’ Buchanan Barnes.”

Bucky’s belly laugh warmed (Y/n)’s heart, it had been a long time since she’d heard it. 

“When’s the thing?” 

“It’s next Friday but don’t worry, we can auction off something from that old box I have in the attic. Maybe that old leather jacket-“

“Don’t you dare.” Bucky playfully growled. “Never get rid of my lucky jacket! If I remember correctly that thing is the reason I got a second date out of you.”

Her mind went to that moment in time, all those years ago. It was Bucky’s favorite but he said it looked better on her. 

“Is P going to the gala?” Bucky interrupted (Y/n)’s thoughts.

“Yeah, kids can go too.” She continued. “How about you ask Sam to submit a signed shield. The prototypes that no one uses-“

“I’ll be there.”

“What?” Her eyes just about bulged out of their sockets.

“I’ll be there.” Bucky repeated casually, like it wasn’t the first time ever he wanted to go to any of Peanut’s school events. Let alone a gala!

“You do know you’ll have to wear a tux, right?” She noted.

“You’ll be there, right?” Bucky asked. 

“Mhm.” (Y/n) brought her bottom lip in between her teeth. 

“Then I’m sure I can find one or two in the back of my closet.” Bucky smiled thinking about his options. She won’t be happy, but it’ll be worth it. He thought. 

“Oh-okay. So I guess I’ll see you next week.”

- 

(Y/n) smoothed the fabric of her dress nervously. Did Bucky forget he was supposed to be here? Was he sent on a mission at the last moment? She looked over at Peanut at the kids table, so excited that her dad was finally going to something at her school.

When she first started, some of her classmates and teachers didn’t believe she was Bucky’s daughter. (Y/n) and Bucky had chosen an extremely protected private school for the same reason, they didn’t want someone else telling P about the Winter Soldier, not before she was old enough to understand. 

After the first tear dropped from Peanut’s eyes, when she told her dad no one at school believed her, you best believe Bucky picked her up every single day. He would often take off his jacket as soon as he got to her school just so everyone would shut their mouths. No one was to make his little girl cry, ever. 

(Y/n) turned to the bar behind her and ordered a glass of champagne. 

“Do you think he’s actually going to come?” One of the women next to (Y/n) asked her friends. 

“Honey, if he does, you gals better take out a loan because that man is going home with me.” An older woman laughed into her drink.

“A recently divorced hunk? Sign me up. I don’t need the full day, just a couple of hours with him and it’ll be enough.” Another one said.

(Y/n) cringed at their words. She obviously has eyes, she knew what her ex-husband looked like but did people have to talk about him like he was just a piece of meat? 

The whole room suddenly got quiet. (Y/n) looked left and right to see what had happened and it wasn’t long until she found out. Bucky strolled into the room. 

He did not. (Y/n) thought.

Bucky was wearing the tuxedo he wore at their wedding. The black-on-black combination made him look even more mysterious than he already was. But every ounce of his dark persona disappeared once he heard the two magic words.

“Hi Daddy!” Peanut came running towards Bucky at full speed. With a small umph Bucky picked up his daughter and twirled her around. 

“Hello princess.” Bucky smiled, melting for his sweet little girl. “Why don’t you tell me where mommy is?”

Peanut pointed a chubby finger towards (Y/n) and she held up her champagne glass, the murmurs and gasps of the women next to her didn’t go unnoticed. 

Bucky placed Peanut back on the floor and set his eyes on (Y/n), it was like everything and everyone around him became blurry. He could only see her. 

“You’re late.” (Y/n) looked up at him. 

“I’m the talent, I am never late.” Bucky smiled at her, the kind of smile that made women all over the world want to drop to their knees, for various reasons. 

(Y/n) laughed, pushing Bucky away with her left hand. Bucky took her hand in his and brought it to his lips, kissing the spot on her third finger where her ring used to sit.  

“You look radiant.” Bucky came closer to (Y/n) placing a kiss on the corner of her mouth. 

She took in his intoxicating smell, it had been forever since she’d been this close to him. (Y/n) took a deep breath, the memories coming to life again. But before she could get lost in the past, the present came into view. 

(Y/n) cleared her throat and took a step back before turning to the women gawking next to them. “Ladies, may I introduced you to my ex-husband, James?” 

Bucky rolled his eyes and turned to them, a forced smile playing on his lips.

(Y/n) slipped from the group with a light laugh and sat down at her table, the auction about to start. 

It wasn’t long before Bucky’s category came up, women desperate to cheat on their husbands without actually doing it. (Y/n) smiled cheekily as she saw Bucky fidget on the stage, the bright lights made him feel like he was a show horse. 

“Mr. Barnes was kind enough to auction a day with an Avenger, the winner of this would spend the day at the Avengers Compound and meet some of the people responsible for our safety!” Peanut’s principal spoke into the microphone.

“I can’t assure a tour of the compound.” Bucky’s raspy voice said through the speakers. 

“We’ll see the details later.” The principal waved him off. “How about we start the bidding at four hundred dollars?”

“Five hundred.” A woman way too old to be with Bucky, and that’s taking into consideration that he’s over a hundred years old, raised her bid card. 

“Six hundred.” Another woman said. 

“Seven hundred.” A third spoke.

Bucky’s eyes kept getting bigger and bigger, he hadn’t considered the fact that women would actually bid to be with him. He turned to (Y/n) with pleading eyes.

“Mommy, aren’t you gonna bid on daddy?” P asked her. 

“Honey-“ (Y/n) was about to explain how for some people spending a day with her Dad would be the experience of a lifetime, when one of the women she heard speaking so vulgarly about Bucky raised her card. 

“One thousand dollars.” The woman had a smug look on her face. 

“Going once-“ The principal said. 

“Mommy do something.” Peanut whispered. 

“Going twice.” Bucky threw his head back. Fuuck. He thought. 

“Go-“

“Two thousand dollars.” (Y/n) raised her card. 

Bucky’s head snapped forward at the sound of her voice. His scowl turned into a smile. 

“Sold, to the lady in the back.” The principal’s eyes just about turned into dollar signs.

- 

“I didn’t get the chance to thank you.” Bucky whispered, hiking Peanut’s body up. At some point in the night she had fallen asleep and now her father was carrying her to (Y/n)’s car. 

(Y/n) waved her hand. “It was nothing. I couldn’t let you spend a day with that hornets’ nest. She would’ve eaten you alive. 

“Still- thank you.” Bucky’s kind eyes were one of the first things that drew (Y/n) to him, the same shade he now shared with his daughter.  

(Y/n) unlocked her car so he could strap Peanut in. 

“So, when should I pick you up?” Bucky opened (Y/n)’s door so she could get in. 

Her eyebrows furrowed. “Oh, about the auction thing. You don’t have to do that, I’m sure you’re going to be busy.”

“How’s next Thursday at 8 sound? We can take P to school and I’ll give you an extremely memorable ‘Day with an Avenger’.” Bucky’s smooth words coated her heart.

“I’ve already had a couple of ‘Days with an Avenger’ and they haven’t been that memorable.” She teased.

“I can think of a couple of memorable days where you would beg-“

(Y/n) clamped her hand over Bucky’s mouth. “You can’t say that!”

“Would I be lying?” Bucky’s muffled voice said proudly.

“I’ll see you next Thursday.” (Y/n) rolled her eyes with a smile. “Please don’t be late.”

“Promise.”

-

The doorbell rang at 7:50 am on Thursday. 

“Be careful Peanut!” (Y/n) yelled as she opened the door. “Don’t fall from the stool! I don’t really feel like visiting the hospital right now.”

She huffed as she opened the door. Mornings were always chaotic but now, without another pair of helping hands it felt impossible. But here he was. 

Bucky stood at the other side of the door, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet. A bouquet of her favorite flowers on one hand and balancing two coffees on the other. 

“Good morning.” Bucky placed a soft kiss on her cheek. “Need help with anything?”

(Y/n) stepped aside with her jaw on the floor, letting Bucky come inside. 

“Hiya Daddy!” Peanut beamed, shoving another forkful of French toast in her mouth. 

“How’s my number one girl doing this morning?” Bucky asked, placing a kiss on the top of her head. 

(Y/n) stepped into the kitchen, feeling like she’d walked into another dimension. 

“Sorry doll, you’ve been bumped down to the number two spot.” Bucky winked at (Y/n) and her eyebrows shot up. “You still keep the vases on the top cupboard?” 

(Y/n) slowly nodded, the shocked expression never left her. 

Definitely an alternate dimension, it’s the only explanation. She thought. 

Drop off was perfect and the ride to the compound was actually pleasant. 

“You got a new car.” (Y/n) hummed, looking around Bucky’s new SUV. 

He nodded proudly. “I can’t ride around on a bike forever. Plus, you asked me to get a car.”

“I asked you to get a car over a year ago.” She snorted. 

Bucky shrugged, the relaxed smile on his lips never faltered. “Took me a while but I got it.”

(Y/n) eyed her ex-husband curiously. Fresh haircut, cologne, pressed t-shirt. New car, more present. Something changed. “Okay, who is she?”

“Who’s who?” Bucky’s forehead creased.

(Y/n) rolled her eyes. “I’m not a child, you can tell me who she is.”

“If you’re trying to say I’m dating someone, I’m not.” Bucky looked a little offended.

“I never said anything about dating.” (Y/n) laughed. “You can get some without making it official.”

“I’m not doing that either.” Bucky grumbled, his grip on the steering wheel made his knuckles white.

“I’m sorry for asking. I didn’t know you not getting any was a sore subject.” She held her hands up in surrender and laughed. “You do know you can do that right? I’m pretty sure the papers we signed mean that we’re no longer together, meaning you can have se-“

Bucky’s groan interrupted her, he ran his palm through his face. “Can we not talk about my sex life please? I actually have a nice day planned, and it doesn’t include this topic of conversation.”

“You. Have a day planned.” She emphasized the words. 

“Please feel free make me sound more like an asshole.” Bucky chuckled. 

And what a day did he have planned. 

It started by taking her to the newly renovated Avengers Museum on the compound. Bucky showed (Y/n) a few never before seen pictures of himself from the 40’s. 

“The investigators dug these up.” He smiled. 

“You were a baby!” She laughed, posing for a picture next to the blown-up print of him.

“You think Peanut will look like me when she’s a little bit older?” Bucky came up behind her, resting his head on hers and tossing his arms over her shoulders. 

(Y/n) relaxed into his body. “You want her to look more like you? She’s basically your twin.” 

His laugh made her whole body vibrate. “What can I say? We should have tried to get a boy after P, maybe he would look like you.”

Afterwards came a late lunch by the lake followed by a tour of the new wing dedicated to Steve Rogers. Bucky had thought of everything. He asked Sam to pick up Peanut from school and make sure she did her homework, took a bath and brushed her teeth before going to bed. 

The sun was setting as Bucky drove (Y/n) home, he rested his hand on the center console hoping she would take it. It wasn’t long until she intertwined their fingers. 

Bucky opened her side of the door and helped her down. (Y/n) leaned on his car. 

“Thank you for a lovely day.” She smiled. “Don’t know if it was worth 2k but, I had an amazing time.”

Bucky fake gasped, clutching the left side of his chest. “You don’t think I’m worth two thousand measly dollars?”

“Some of us actually have to work to get two thousand dollars, not just pose around and look cute.” She bit the inside of her cheek to stop a smile from forming.

Bucky stepped closer to her. “Well I would pay you way more than that to pose around for me. You already have the cute thing down to a T.”

He tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear, dragging his knuckles against her cheek and stopping at her lips. Bucky pulled her closer to him and placed his lips on hers. At first it was soft but once his brain registered what was happening, it turned dark and hungry. It was like he was running out of oxygen and the only thing that could breathe life into him was her kiss. 

With a gasp, she pushed him away.

“What are you doing?” (Y/n) asked breathlessly, bringing her fingers to her throbbing lips. 

“(Y/n), please.” Bucky sighed. “I want you, I need you. And I’m not talking about stupid sex, I’m talking about you. Talking to you every day, telling me off for things I do or don’t do, I want us. Together.”

Her eyebrows creased, she felt her body heat up with rage. “What makes you think you can kiss me like that? Like nothing’s ever happened. Like you’ve forgotten we’re not together anymore.”

“Please.” Bucky’s crystal blue eyes reddened. “Do you want me to get on my knees? Because I’ll do it. I’m begging you, please take me back. I want to be with you, forever.”

(Y/n) sniffled, tears of her own threatening to fall. “I’m not falling for this, not again. I’m about to finish mending my broken heart, I’ve just finished putting the pieces back together and for you to come here and-“

“I’m trying-“ Bucky cried. “I’m really trying to show you that I’ve changed.”

(Y/n) let out a dry laugh. “Does going to one gala and buying a car mean you’ve changed? I asked you to buy that thing for a whole year and you never even thought about it.”  

“But I’m doing it now, does that mean anything?” Bucky asked with saddened eyes.

“Yes, it means that you only want me because you can’t have me.”

“That’s not-“ He tried to argue but she turned towards her door. 

“Thank you for the nice day James but, I have to go to my real life. The one in which we’re still divorced and you have to leave for some undisclosed amount of time to a classified location. Do you remember? Your reallife.” (Y/n) opened her front door, thanking Sam for taking care of Peanut. 

Bucky was left on the driveway with tears running down his cheek. 

Part 3 here!

Hi hii! I've tagged everyone who commented Pt2 on my first fic and reblogged! <3 Hope you guys like it, if you do remember to like reblog and comment! I'll love you forever if you do <3

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Hi hiiii This is part of my 1k Celebration, if you like this please be sure to look at the Bingo Card and ask for a prompt! Love y'all <33

And you can find the Bingo master list and what prompts are still available here!

[rhiezus]

[UNDRESS] The sender begins to unbutton the receiver's shirt, taking their time with each button. // jinhyung x kyungri NAO AGUENTEI EH O GIF QUE TA NO SEU TUMBLR

there could be little to a non-existential excuse to treating his wife so casually on a day to day basis. it's not that jinhyung doesn't think he is a good husband or that he doesn't make an effort to be the best he can — because he absolutely does. but things change drastically in your life when you have kids and you find yourself busy going through life trying to raise a family focused on building a nurturing environment for them. it takes a toll on you too because through many expense that becomes part of your goal, one you never had before but that now you don't know yourself without. suddenly everything becomes about what you can do for them and how you're gonna do that, that's your dream and that's your life. it may sound imprisoning for some people but for parents like jinhyung and kyungri it's so much more than that, it's care and it's love and it's an every day struggle that is so much more than worth it just to see their innocent smile or little feet happily wobbling around directly into their safe arms.

so yeah, in the process you end up forgetting a little bit of your marital life. or even about your own life as an individual, an individual that has needs just as any other. sometimes you gotta stop everything you are doing to realize who you were before this and how is that person still doing inside. to jinhyung doing that is to look beside him, kyungri has all the answers he needs in her eyes, he can tell just by the way they go through day to day together. when they sit down on a sunday night after putting up the kids to sleep, both tired as hell from a day of going out or just keeping about, trying to put together a schedule that works for the next two weeks. who is going to do what, who has work, who can stay at home, nannys and kids schools... when she gets that crease between her eyebrows, she is thinking intently on something, focused. when he pouts like a baby because he doesn't wanna do this anymore, he just wants to sleep, but she always manages to remember who important it is for them to decided what day he can take off so he can pick her up from the studio and they can make some love in the car on the way home — or even better when they can escape for ice cream, eating alone on the car and talking about their day. that's team work, one their build with so much effort. and even so it's not always that everything works out according to plan, they can't account for ryze getting sick on a random tuesday or for aria losing her favorite toy on a friday night keeping everyone up looking for it until one am. still, jinhyung says that's the magic. they make it work, every single time, like they are some kind of wizards.

every day or so they can relax, today is a sunday where they don't have to think about any of plans for the week because both of them talked over last week. they worked their asses off for seven days straight just to get a free little time. today there was no planning ahead. jinhyung had his day off because it's sunday and he has a no work sunday police, but kyungri had flew in a bussiness trip last night and she arrived today just a little after seven. they put the kids to sleep together, thankfully everyone had their desired toys and stuffed animals on their rightful places this time and since they doze off quickly, they enjoyed the silence before nine o'clock. a wine bottle was opened in the upmost quiet ecstasy they could muster, they sat on the couch and drank the whole bottle before they even realized. and frankly neither of them was tired and their eyes found each other naturally through the conversation — this and that, "how was your trip?", "...some nice people there", "ny's cough is getting worse", "i don't know if i like how my voice sounded", "maybe we could eat there for dinner tomorrow".... — there was a moment jinhyung looked intently at kyungri's lips, how they moved while she was talking and how did her lipgloss was still standing after getting off the plane, kissing their kids goodbye and drinking wine. the damn glass of wine got to take if off and he didn't yet, he got mad about that for a second before he could notice what her hand was going up and down his tight making him look to her eyes again. "sorry, love." his voice was whispered deep between them, one because they had children sleeping upstairs and second because he wanted her to be the only one to listen to his pleading.

and with kyungri you don't have to say twice for the message to be delivered, in a glance or even an expression; a single exchange of any of those and they comprehended each other. years of being together, marriage and children just makes each other's reflections as natural as breathing. jinhyung leaned forward after seeing the grin that grew on those lips, kissing it off in a single move, a quick one that was stopped only by her hands reaching the collar of his shirt, the fingers working really slow on the buttons. "c'mon you can do better than that." he teased when his face was still hot on hers, inches to taste that lipgloss again. they were not going anywhere other than that moment, on that couch, wine in their veins, everything just a little too intoxicating to be rushed. there was no need not to savor how her scent was the same from the day he first met her, many moons ago. or not to notice that now that they were so close, jinhyung could see a little bit of her red lingerie sticking out of her white shirt. all this going through the man's head while she was still fiddling with his buttons, smiling at him. when she was about the last two, he smiled back at her and tossed her hands aside in an abrasive movement, slipping himself off his shirt with ease. "there, better." he whispered forgetting the shirt was ever even capable of anything, he was too damn hot for wearing it anyways. then chasing for her lips again with his own, gently and passionately. he was going to be a very good husband now, one that didn't let his wife plead for anything other than him.

[legendary-69420]

The Party of the Year 1: The Mystery of the Invitation

Chapter 12 : Part 1

(Racing Hearts : VOLUME 3 )

racing hearts

It was a quiet, lazy afternoon in the driver's lounge. Charles sat on a sleek leather couch, lazily scrolling through his phone while Lando, Carlos, Oscar, Yuki, Pierre, and Max were scattered around, each occupying their space. Lando was mid-rant about his recent unlucky qualifying, Oscar and Yuki were battling it out on a portable game console, and Pierre and Max were engaged in a friendly debate about the "most iconic race moments" of the season.

Charles, however, had his own dilemma. His mind was occupied with one pressing question — "What should I get Mark for his birthday?" It wasn’t an ordinary problem. This was Mark Spencer, the man who had everything. Money, fame, looks, success — what could you possibly give a man who already had it all?

“Just give him socks,” Lando quipped, hearing Charles mutter about the gift.

“Yeah, real original,” Charles shot back, rolling his eyes. “Why don’t I add a 'World’s Best Driver' mug while I’m at it?”

“You're overthinking it, mate,” Carlos added. “Get him something meaningful. Like a framed photo of the two of you. Sentimental stuff works.”

“Yeah,” Yuki added with a mischievous grin, “and make sure it says, ‘I’m the reason you win races.’”

Their laughter was interrupted by the sound of approaching footsteps. Arthur Leclerc entered the room, his face lit up like a kid about to spill some juicy gossip.

“Are you guys coming to Mark’s party?” Arthur asked, looking around.

“Party?” Pierre raised a brow.

“What party?” Lando asked, sitting up from his slouched position.

Arthur blinked. “…His birthday party?”

The drivers exchanged confused glances.

“Wait—” Charles furrowed his brows. “Mark didn’t invite us.”

“Yeah, I didn’t get anything,” Oscar said, checking his phone.

“Same,” said Carlos, tapping through his notifications.

“Maybe we’re not famous enough,” Lando teased, nudging Pierre.

Arthur raised an eyebrow, looking at them like they’d all gone insane. “Well, that’s weird because I got my invite a week ago.”

“WHAT?” Charles’s eyes widened in shock. “Show me.”

Arthur pulled out his phone and opened his messages, revealing a stunningly designed digital invite. The invite was pure luxury — black and gold with elegant typography and a sleek moving background of golden sparkles. “The Spencer Estate invites you to an exclusive celebration in honor of Mark Spencer's birthday” was written across the top. The location? One of the Spencer family's lavish private mansions.

The details of the event were listed in perfect calligraphy:

Date: Next Friday Time: 8 PM till dawn Venue: Spencer Estate, Lake Como, Italy

Just as Charles's jaw dropped, the drivers' phones buzzed simultaneously. A distinct ding echoed through the lounge.

“What the—”

Everyone reached for their phones. The same luxury invite that Arthur had just shown them now appeared on their screens, only this time it was addressed to them.

Carlos whistled, eyes wide. “Of course it’s at Lake Como. Of course.”

“This man sent an invitation to Arthur before us?” Charles muttered, still scrolling through his phone. He glanced at Arthur with mock betrayal. “He likes you more than me?”

Arthur snickered, knowing he’d struck a nerve.

“Don’t take it personally, Charles,” Carlos joked, grinning. “Little brother privileges.”

“You’re not his 'favorite Leclerc' anymore.” Lando teased, nudging Charles.

But Charles wasn’t laughing. His gaze sharpened, and his lips pressed into a firm line. His fingers moved quickly as he snatched Arthur’s phone. “Give me that,” he said, scrolling up through Arthur and Mark’s previous chats.

Lando leaned over, trying to peek at the screen. “Oooh, what are we looking for? Secrets? Leaks?”

Charles ignored him, his eyes locked on the chat. The conversation wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. Arthur had asked Mark something about his plans for the week, and Mark had casually mentioned his birthday party without realizing it. Then, to cover his tracks, Mark had immediately sent Arthur an invite.

“See?” Arthur shrugged. “He just slipped up. Relax, cher frère.”

Charles sighed, closing the chat. He tossed Arthur's phone back at him, still sulking. “He could’ve told me first.”

“Sounds like you’re jealous,” Pierre smirked.

“Shut up,” Charles muttered, though his pout didn’t help his case.

“Okay, so we’re going, right?” Carlos asked, already tapping on his calendar.

“Obviously,” said Yuki, still staring at the invite. “It says 'luxury' and 'Spencer mansion' in the same sentence. That’s not a party, that’s an experience.”

“Wait,” Lando said, narrowing his eyes as he turned to Arthur. “How do you know so much about it? You seem… suspiciously well-informed.”

Arthur’s eyes sparkled with excitement. He sat upright, ready to deliver what could only be described as a TED Talk presentation.

“Alright, listen up,” Arthur said, rubbing his hands together. “Mark’s birthday party isn’t just a party. It’s an event that people wait all year for. I’m talking celebrities, models, actors, famous singers, athletes, billionaires — you name it, they’re all there.”

“Models, huh?” Lando said, his interest piqued.

Pierre leaned in, nodding. “Now you have my attention.”

“The party takes place at one of the Spencer family's mansions. I’m talking private beaches, infinity pools, glass walls, underground clubs. There’s live music, world-class chefs, a personal cinema, and every kind of drink you can imagine. Last year, they had a literal underwater dance floor.”

Arthur continued, grinning. “He sends out invites months in advance so people can clear their schedules. Famous singers perform live. There’s a full course gourmet dinner prepared by Michelin-star chefs. You want a pool? There’s a pool. You want a personal massage? They got you. Every luxury imaginable is at your fingertips.”

“Why are you talking like a heist movie plot?” Carlos asked, wide-eyed.

“What’s up with this professional TED Talk, Arthur?” Max added, laughing. “You sound like you’re about to sell us tickets.”

“Can you blame me?” Arthur’s grin widened. “I’ve been waiting for this. I would never miss it.”

That’s when the drivers froze.

“Wait,” Oscar said slowly, realization dawning on him. “If Mark sends invites months in advance… why did we just get ours today?”

Silence.

“…oh,” Yuki muttered, eyes narrowing. “That sneaky little—”

Arthur nodded knowingly. “He called your managers.”

“What?” Carlos blinked.

“Mark called your managers months ago,” Arthur said, scrolling through his phone. “He told them to clear your schedules for his birthday party. That’s why your calendars were mysteriously open for that day.”

“Ohhh,” Lando drawled, realization hitting. “So that’s why my manager was so adamant I 'rest' next week.”

“Smart,” Carlos admitted, impressed.

“Evil,” Pierre added with a smirk. “But smart.”

“I’m not even mad,” Max shrugged. “I respect it.”

Charles shook his head, fighting back a smile. “This man plans everything to perfection, huh?”

“Welcome to the mind of Mark Spencer,” Arthur said with a grin. “And now, we’re all invited.”

Carlos grinned, already texting his manager. “Then we’re going. No way I’m missing this.”

“Count me in,” Yuki added.

“Same,” Pierre chimed in.

“Are we wearing suits or what?” Lando asked, still staring at the luxurious invite.

“Don’t overthink it,” Max said. “Just show up looking hot.”

Charles leaned back, finally allowing himself to smile. “Oh, trust me, I’ll be there.”

The drivers didn’t know it yet, but this birthday party would be one they’d never forget.

To Be Continued…

[ghostgorlsworld]

Johnny Boy (part 5)

werewolf!Johnny x reader

part one is here

Once upon a time, you would've done anything for John Mctavish. He had been your older brother's cool best friend, and you were always desperate for him to see you as more--until one fateful night that ends up with you pregnant and him...gone. Fast forward six years and you've made a good life for yourself with your daughter Emma, with Johnny none the wiser. Until he decides to knock on your door.

Johnny spent a fair amount of time with you and Emma for the next week, weaseling himself into your schedule with a kind of single-minded determination that must have gotten him far in the military.

By Friday, you were exhausted, irritated, overstimulated, and, disappointingly enough, horny. It turned out the lack of sex over the last year or two had turned your hormones into monsters that were very attracted to the nice smelling man that fixed your refrigerator and coaxed Emma to eat her greens. It didn’t seem to matter that it was Johnny of all people, or the fact that you still couldn’t look at him without anger sparking in your heart.

What was worse was that Johnny brought up finances on Thursday, mentioning something about helping with the bills. That had been like a shot of adrenaline, your blood pressure rising through the roof.. 

You had dropped the bowl you were washing into the sink, shattering it into a thousand pieces. “I don’t need your help, John,” you had snapped. “I haven’t for the last decade.”

Johnny left shortly after that, seeming to have traded in his old hot-headedness for the same soft, patient tone he uses with Emma. He had explained it well, saying he hadn’t had a house or a family to spend his savings on in the last six years, and he wanted to ease the load for both you and Emma’s sakes.

But it was the fact that he felt so comfortable to casually interject himself into your lives. What would happen if you became dependent on Johnny again and he died? Or decided that family life wasn’t for him?

Then both you and Emma would be crushed. You didn’t want your finances to be involved as well.

So you were angry with him, avoiding the polite texts he had sent and the phone call that you sent to voicemail. All you wanted was peace and a night out with Charlie, perhaps a bit of making out and/or hands-in-pants involved.

You hadn’t gone that far with Charlie yet. Both of you had been burned in the past and you were enjoying the slowness of it all. Today, however, you were ready to be properly touched by a man. It had been too long.

Emma was spending the day with her grandparents by their request–they had picked her up an hour ago, your Mum seeming to sense you needed a nice, peaceful morning. 

You did laundry. You cleaned the kitchen. You made yourself lunch and watched an entire episode of the Bachelor without interruption, then took a hot bath with rose petals and a vibrator.

It was lovely.

You were cheerful as you dressed and packed Emma’s overnight bag, planning on dropping it off at Tom’s place since your parents had her. 

You turned the page in Jack’s novel before you left, smiling up at the paper maché whale. 

It was a nice walk, the air brisk and the snow crisp under your boots. You went over the Emma list in your mind: snacks, her favorite books, her favorite stuffy, toothbrush, pj’s, a chilled and chopped steak in case Tom had forgotten to grab dinner, crayons, paper…

Before you knew it, you were popping the door open with your hip. You had already mentioned to Tom you were popping in so there shouldn’t be any unwelcome, undressed visitors.

Except there was.

A man in a black surgical mask stood in the dark of Tom’s hallway, huge, dark-eyed, and super fucking bloody intimidating.

 You dropped the bag with a screech, thinking of burglars, murderers,oh-my-god-is-Tommy-murdered-like-that-woman-in-that-documentary-you-saw-once-

“Shut up!” Tommy said, frowning at you from the couch. “Fuck, lovie, he’s a friend from work.”

The man in the mask raised a hand in an awkward wave.

“Oh,” you said, your heart pounding in your ears. “Oh, I’m so sorry. You’re a right scary chap and my brother usually keeps female company.” “You’re alright, love,” the masked man said, his voice like gravel. He picked up Emma’s backpack from the floor, offering it to you with a massive hand.

The mask was odd and the hoodie covering the rest of his face and hair was odder. But your brother had rather imaginative taste in friends and you had seen and met much worse.

“Thank you,” you said, smiling as your heart resumed its normal pace. “I’m his sister.”

The man hummed, as if amused. “I can tell.” He offered you a gloved palm. “M’name is Simon.”

You shook it firmly, giving him your name in return. “Sorry, if I had known if Tommy was having company I would’ve called before I came over.”

“He’s not company, he’s a guest,” Tommy said, rising to herd you into the kitchen. “He’s staying here for a bit with Johnny.” That certainly had your spine straightening. You hadn’t thought Johnny would still be here, after all there were a dozen relatives that would all love to host their long lost war hero.

“He’s out for an errand, lovie, don’t look so tense.” 

You relaxed a fraction, soothed by the thought that you won’t have to deal with Johnny in your hair before your date with Charlie.

“You’re a friend of John’s then?” You asked Simon, your tone just a mite cooler than it had been before. 

Simon nodded, his dark gaze tinged with humor. “Don’t hold it against me, love.”

It took you a second to see that he was a wolf too. It was all in the way he moved, the languid way he blinked at his surroundings. “Easier said than done,” you teased, forcing yourself into the good mood you were in before. “In that case, Tom, do I need to reschedule? Emma isn’t much for strangers.”

Tom shrugged, unzipping Em’s pack.“Johnny isn’t much of a stranger now, and Simon is a good lad, he won’t mind her.” Simon nodded again, sinking into the shadows as he took a seat at the kitchen table. “I’ve heard she’s a sweet girl.” “The best,” you said, smiling. 

“Jesus, lovie, did you pack enough?” Tom said dryly, pulling out the sliced steak. “I’ve never let the girl starve, not in the last six years.” “You’re a busy man, I was just making sure in case you forgot,” you said. “By the way, she likes a glass of milk before bed now. And her favorite book is the one on top, the one with the rabbits, plus King Robert is the sheep she sleeps with-” “Right. I’ve got this. I promise.” You felt Simon’s eyes on you, judging, appraising. You were sure Johnny probably didn’t have the nicest things to say about you–most likely that you were an irritating little girl that followed him around for twenty years then proceeded to get pregnant and raise the child without him knowing,

“And Johnny will be here, so he’ll be able to spend some time with her,” Tom said, putting the steak in the fridge. “If that’s alright with you.” “It sounds like it’s already been planned,” you said, trying your very best not to be hateful in front of guests.

Tom sighed. “If I were half as smart as you think I am with your theories of scheming and plotting, I’d be living in a much nicer neighborhood.”

You laughed. “No, you’d be in jail.”

“Touché. Simon, how do you feel about a classic steak and potatoes meal tonight? It’s Emma’s favorite, she’s our six year old codger.”

Simon made an agreeable noise, his nose now in some masculine-looking magazine with bears and car parts on the front. He was quite a large man, commanding such a presence.

Johnny was an unsuspecting kind of violent, always smiling and laughing until he wasn’t, until it was serious. Simon was different. He felt older. 

Oddly, you didn’t mind him around Emma. You’ve wanted to expose her around more adult wolves anyways, so she’ll learn her manners.

“You’re sure you’ll be alright?” You said, anxiety creeping in like it always did whenever you would be separated from Emma for longer than a few hours. 

“We’ll all keep an eye on her, pet,” Simon said. “Between the three of us, I think she’ll be safe.” You relaxed. “Right. Thank you, Simon.”

Tommy ushered you out of his house quickly after that, his phone blowing up with Johnny’s texts and calls. You saw his black truck pull up minutes later, but by then you were already through your door. 

Emma and your parents stopped by for lunch, your mother chattering about how she had seen Johnny at the grocery store and how much he had grown. It was like the last six years had been erased in their minds, the times when Emma was ill and you were at your wit’s end, the pregnancy you had spent constantly sick and deeply depressed–all of it was gone. 

Your mother was imagining a new life for her daughter, a life of being married to the man that gave you Emma and making a dozen more pups in a nicer house, with financial stability. She didn’t know the whole story with Johnny–hardly anyone did. She assumed the two of you had been dating when you had conceived Emma, and you had never thought to tell her differently.

Johnny had never actually wanted you. He was just drunk and about to truly leave the only home he had ever known. And you were right there, tipsy and desperate for his attention. You had missed him like a lost limb when he started ignoring your letters and calls, and seeing him again had brought up all those feelings again. 

But now, he was just setting a trap. He wanted to be in Emma’s life, and when her grandparents, uncle, and various other relatives were on his side…it made your life a lot harder.

Emma nuzzled into your side, sensing your turn in mood. “You smell sad,” she said, her mouth dusted with biscuit crumbs. “You always smell sad.”

Your mother heard her, and seemed to gain some perspective. “When I saw him, I was so angry. I just thought of all the things he had done to you…but then, when I came up to him, he was just so different. He’s a different man than he was all those years ago.”

And you were a different woman. It wasn’t revolutionary to change. 

Emma followed you into your bathroom and watched as you began to primp, perched up on your counter as you brushed your teeth and curled your hair, patting makeup over the purple half-moons under your eyes.

Emma was quiet mostly, sensing the strange mood you were in. She played with your red lipstick and powder, smudging them around her lips. “Careful, it might stain,” you said. “And what will Tom say if you’ve got red all over your face?” “Is Johnny going to be there?” Emma asked hopefully. “He’s fun.”

“Yes, he’s staying at Uncle Tom’s house.”

She nodded, smiling messily at herself in the mirror. “He smells just like me, Mum, and he looks like me too.”

“He’s your father, Em, of course he does.” You blinked hard in the mirror, trying not to cry. “But Mum…” Emma looked at you, her face suddenly serious. “If you don’t like Johnny, I don’t like him either.”

You actually did cry then, bringing your daughter to your chest like you did when she was a baby. You could still remember the day that you first held her in your arms, and all of the heartbreak had seemed worth it. “God, Em, it’s not like I don’t like him,” you said, burying your face in her strawberry-shampoo scented hair. “It’s just…we’re adults, and adults have tricky feelings. I could never dislike Johnny, he gave you to me.” “But you’re so sad when he’s here, we can smell it,” Emma said, sniffling. 

“I’m always sad, Em, I cried every morning I dropped you off at school for months.” That seemed to make her feel better. She snuffled, wiping her eyes with the backs of her hands. “Are you going to see the book man?” She asked.

You nodded. “We’re friends, we’re going to go have dinner, maybe see a movie.”

“Good,” she said, wiser than her years. “You never go out.”

She allowed you to wipe the makeup from her mouth without a fuss before your parents ushered her out the door, giving your cheek a slobbery kiss before waving goodbye.

The house was too quiet, so you turned on music, the old crooning stuff that Jack liked. Another half an hour and you were ready, wearing your second-nicest dress and your favorite red heels as you frantically dried your Chanel nail polish. 

Charlie was usually early, but time ticked on well past the time he was supposed to be there. He’s never been late, not in the two years you had known him, not even to work. 

You texted a few times, staring at the screen for a response. He lived in the city, so an accident was well possible–he wouldn’t just ditch you, would he?

Maybe he had forgotten. You did make the plans the week before…

Time ticked on. You gave him a call.

“Hello?” Charlie sounded distracted and irritated. You cleared your throat, “Hey, Charlie, I was just calling to see if we’re still on tonight?” Charlie made an apologetic noise. “Ah, shit, I forgot.”

“Oh,” you said, trying very hard not to sound hurt. 

“Our team had a last minute thing at the bar and I completely forgot about our date, sweetie, I’m so sorry.”

“That’s-that’s alright,” you said, kicking off your heels. 

“Would you like to join us? We’re at the corner bar where the boss had his divorce party.”

“No, no, that’s alright. I’m not really in the mood for a bar,” you said, undoing the clasps to your nice earrings. “Rain check, I suppose.” “I really am sorry,” Charlie said, sounding it. “I can’t believe I forgot.” “I can’t believe it either,” you said, then you hung up. 

You stared at the phone, feeling miserable and very, very sorry for yourself. Of course, the first date in ages and you get tossed up for a group of sweaty, gross men.

You showered, to scrub the makeup and product out of your hair. You might have cried a bit, but that was between you and the water faucet.

[bigoltrashpile]

Learning to Share

The lovely @galacticroyal93 has once again commissioned me! Thank you so much you're the greatest!!! This one is for all four yandere Papyruses kidnapping and then...loving the same person ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) So if you are a minor please go away, but if you're over 18, then enjoy!!!

You stared up at the ceiling blankly.  It was Friday.  The fifth day of your capture.  You sighed and rolled over, trying to find the will to get out of bed.

It had started normally.  You had become friends with Slim, a friendly skeleton monster, and you had quickly become a part of each others’ lives.  You and him had hung out whenever you could, and soon enough, you met his cousins.  Apparently he had a lot of them, eight all together in one house.  They had seemed normal enough…

But then some of them started to get attached.  Too attached.

The tall skeletons, Papyrus, Noir, and Hound, along with Slim of course, had begun vying for your attention.  Papyrus and Noir would show off and try to impress you, while Slim and Hound would try to get you to smile, and try to share any food or drink they could with you, just to see you happy.

It was nice!  For a while.  Then, things started to get…weird.  Papyrus would somehow show up wherever you were, Noir seemed to have a few things that looked suspiciously close to things you had lost, Hound somehow knew your favorite drink order, and Slim, although still sweet, would pull you a bit too close when anyone else tried to talk to you.

Definitely strange.

Well, five days ago, you figured out why.

You had been trying to find a good recipe to cook for dinner, when you heard something strange behind you.  

A footstep.

You lived alone.

Instantly, you stiffened up.  Your hand moved slowly away from the recipe book, to the knife block.  You grabbed a knife, and whipped around.

Almost faster than you could blink, a hand caught your wrist.  You were met with a very familiar sight.  Noir.  He smirked down at you gleefully.

“AT LEAST WE KNOW YOU’RE NOT COMPLETELY DEFENSELESS,” he chuckled.  “WELL DONE, SWEET THING.  A VALIANT EFFORT.”

“N-Noir??  What are you doing in my house?” you demanded.  You tried to sound tough, but couldn’t stop your voice from wavering.

“ISN’T IT OBVIOUS?  WE’RE HERE TO TAKE YOU HOME.”

“We?  Home??” you gasped.  You finally looked over Noir’s shoulder to see the other three skeletons behind him.  They were moving boxes out of your room, almost like they were helping you move.  Forcefully.

Using your distraction, Noir took his chance to grab the knife from your hand.  “WOULDN’T WANT YOU HURTING YOURSELF,” he explained casually.  Without looking, he threw the knife.  It stuck in the wall with a loud SHUNK.

You were doomed.

Noir leaned down, his fangs almost touching your ear.  “Now…We Can Do This The Easy Way, Or The Hard Way,” he whispered.  “Either You Come Quietly, Or I Knock You Out And Throw You In The Trunk.  Your Choice.”

“A-are you going to hurt me?” you squeaked pitifully.

“I Don’t Want To Hurt You,” Noir explained.  “But I Will Do What I Must.”

Shaking, you had gone with him quietly.  You were crying silently during the long drive, sure that they were going to do…something to you.  You weren’t sure what.  Kill you?  Sell you for your soul?  Was your friendship with Slim all a lie?  Had he just been kind to you to get to this moment?

Thankfully, once you got to the skeletons’ house, they explained.  Or more accurately, Hound had hugged you tight and kissed you, and then the others explained.

They were in love with you.  All four of them.  They had for months.  Not only did they love you, but they were basically obsessed with you.  They had been stalking you for a while, keeping tabs on you, protecting you, and just falling further and further in love.

They had tried to work things out, and eventually came to a very tenuous agreement.  They would kidnap you, bring you to their home, and share.  For a while.  They would each get you for one day out of the week, and after a  little while, you would decide which of them you would be with forever.

It was definitely a daunting decision.  They were all crazy, obviously, but…they were undeniably very handsome.  And very caring, and thoughtful.  On Monday, the day after you had been taken, Papyrus had treated you to a delicious, homemade dinner.  You had eaten it together under candlelight, which was very romantic despite his “dating outfit” having basketballs for shoulders, and him checking his dating manual every five minutes.

On Tuesday, Slim and you had done a few jigsaw puzzles while watching your favorite movies.  Afterward, you made cookies together!  Slim had eaten lots of the dough, but you still got a few cookies safely into the oven.

On Wednesday, Noir and you went outside!  It was the first time you had seen the sky in two days, and even though he squeezed your hand threateningly every time you talked to someone, walking in the park with hot chocolate had been lovely.

Yesterday, Hound had insisted on playing some games together.  You had started with some card games before moving on to Mario Kart.  Hound was surprisingly good at the game, and you had only won a single race.  Despite that, he was a good sport, and was perfectly happy just sitting on the couch with you.

But today…who would have you on Friday?  Would the order start over, and you’d have another day with Papyrus?  Or would you get the day to yourself?  Yeah, that didn’t seem likely.

Finally, you forced yourself out of bed.  It was still your bed, the skeletons had moved everything from your room to their home, and you had to admit that having all the same things was…comforting somehow.  You got dressed and went downstairs for breakfast.

Just like the other days, Noir and Papyrus were already awake and cooking food.  They chatted idly, turning when you walked in.  “AH, TK!” Papyrus beamed.  “GOOD MORNING!”

“G-good morning,” you muttered.  You sat down nervously.  “Um…what’s for breakfast?”

“WE HAVE MADE WAFFLES AND BACON,” Noir said proudly.

Your stomach rumbled.  “Good, good……Um…what’s the plan for today?”

Noir furrowed his brow.  “PLAN?”

“Yeah, who’s going to have me for the day?”

“all of us do.”  You jumped at Slim’s voice right behind you.  He always moved so quietly!  Slim rubbed the sleep from his eyes and plopped down next to you.  “mornin’, hun~”

“What do you mean, ‘all of you’?” you asked.  “Are you all going to, like…have an hour each?”

“nah, figured we’d do a group date or somethin’,” Slim shrugged.  “go to a movie, or smash bros tournament, maybe.  ‘course goin’ out would be nice with so many of us to keep an eye socket on you.”

Right.  Even if you went out, there was no way to escape.  You pushed the thought from your mind.  “Oh.  Well, I guess that sounds nice!”

“‘s’long as i don’t have to do any running i’m game.”  You jumped again.  Hound was just as sneaky as Slim!  The sharp toothed skeleton pressed a kiss to the top of your head.  “good to see ya angel~”

“You saw me yesterday too!” you laughed softly.

“and bein’ asleep was too long without ya,” he responded.  He sat down next to you, on the opposite side of Slim.

Soon enough, the food was ready, and Noir and Papyrus brought over plates of thick, fluffy pancakes and crispy bacon.  All five of you eagerly dug in, the skeletons chatting and arguing a bit as they did.

You closed your eyes happily.  There was just something so…peaceful about it.  Even though they had kidnapped you, you felt safe around these skeletons.  They loved you, you knew that now, and just having them near you was such a comfy feeling.  If they hadn’t kidnapped you, this would be a dream come true.

“what do ya think, tk?”  The sound of your name snapped you back to reality.  “that sound okay?”

“Huh?”

They all laughed softly at your absent mindedness.  “WE WERE JUST WONDERING IF BINGING A SHOW WAS OKAY WITH YOU,” Papyrus smiled.  “WE CAN MAKE A BLANKET FORT IF YOU WANT!”

“Y-yeah, that sounds good!” you smiled.  It would be nice, cuddling with all the skeletons.  Although, with that thought in your head, how would you do that?  There wasn’t a bed big enough for five people, so you’d have to make do.

After breakfast, the skeletons went to work, leaving you locked in the house alone until that evening.  While you were alone, you doodled yourself and the four of them in a giant bed together.  It wasn’t really feasible, but the thought of it made you feel warm.

That evening, the skeletons came home, and were all eager for your movie night.  They eagerly placed a few mattresses on the ground of your bedroom and hung up blankets.  Well, you, Noir, and Papyrus did.  Hound and Slim “supervised”.

When everything was set up, you got dressed.  Papyrus insisted that you all wear pajamas, and so you were wearing an old t shirt and some soft shorts.  The others were wearing lazy clothes as well, and it was a welcome surprise to see them in more casual attire.

Papyrus started some cheesy reality show that you could all make fun of, and they all settled in around you.  Papyrus was behind you, acting like a backrest.  Noir was to your side, leaning against your left shoulder.  Hound’s head was in your lap, using your thighs as a pillow, and Slim was on your right, leaning much more into you than Noir.  He was almost like a slug squishing into your side!

It was stupidly cozy.  You and your four…captors.  You had to remind yourself that they were your captors.  Not boyfriends.  They were keeping you prisoner.

You shook your head.  You would worry about that later.  For now, you could pretend, right?  It was probably the Stockholm syndrome talking, but you wanted to pretend that things were back to normal.

Just for a while.

About an hour into your binge, you were all laughing and chatting happily.  You half expected to fall asleep, but the four of them kept you too entertained.  It was really pure domestic bliss.

Well, maybe except for Hound’s hand creeping further and further up your thigh.

You had tried to ignore it at first, to give him plausible deniability.  But you couldn’t ignore it anymore.  His hand was getting closer and closer to the junction of your thighs.

And the worst part is, you weren’t sure if you wanted to stop him.

Sure, you knew it was wrong.  He had kidnapped you and kept you captive for five days, and now he was trying to make the moves on you?

But on the other hand…his fingers felt so nice as they danced further and further.  You shuddered softly as they finally reached your clothed sex.

You bit your lip to hide your moan.  Just that soft touch felt amazing.  It had been way too long since you’d gotten some action…what could it hurt?

Hound’s eyes met yours.  He quirked his brow in question.  You gave him a tiny, almost imperceptible nod.

A wicked grin spread across his face.  His fingers continued their back and forth motion, feather light, just enough to tease.  Fuck, you needed more.  You spread your legs as much as you could with Hound’s skull still on your thighs.

“AHEM, REMEMBER WHAT WE AGREED, HOUND,” Papyrus’s voice cut through into your little world.  You squeaked and snapped your legs together.

Hound just smirked.  “i don’t know whatcha mean, didn’t actually fuck her, did i?”

“WELL…NO, BUT THE INTENT WAS THERE!”

“AND WE AGREED NO SEX BEFORE SHE ASKED,” Noir growled.  “WE’RE NOT ANIMALS.”

“hey, tk wanted it too!” Hound huffed, finally sitting up.  “didn’t ya, angel?”

Your face warmed.  “I-I mean…yes?”

“a yes with a question mark ain’t good enough,” Slim scoffed.

“Fine then, yes.”  You covered your face, embarrassed.

Instantly, four pairs of hands were all over you, gently slipping under your clothes.  “Well Darling, Why Didn’t You Say So Earlier?” Papyrus whispered in your ear.  You shuddered as his hands found your breasts and tweaked your nipples playfully.  “We’re More Than Happy To Help You~”

“THIS WILL BE THE PERFECT CHANCE TO PROVE I AM THE BEST CHOICE!” Noir grinned.  You could practically feel his smugness coming off of him in waves.

“psh, as if, i’m gonna make ‘em see stars,” Hound interjected.  His hands were right back to your pussy, this time not even trying to be subtle.

Slim didn’t say anything, but you could hear a faint growl coming from his chest.  Before you could say anything, he grabbed your shirt and tore it off of you.

You shrieked and tried to cover yourself, but Papyrus grabbed your wrists in his strong hands and pulled them away.  “Don’t Be Shy,” he purred.  “We’ve Wanted This View For Months~”

You bit your lip, refusing to meet any of their eyes.  While you did, Hound took the chance to get you out of your shorts.  “let us see every inch of ya, angel,” he hummed.  “i can’t wait to taste ya~”

As soon as the shorts were off your hips, all four of them froze.  Slim moaned softly.  “fuck, you smell so good,” he panted.

“And You Look Divine,” Noir agreed.  He gently moved his gloved hands to your hips.  “So Soft…So Beautiful…”

“fuck!  i can’t take it anymore!!”  Before you could even ask, Hound dove between your legs, threw your legs over his shoulders, and licked right up your pussy.  You let out a shocked moan at both the pleasure and the change of position.  Papyrus still had a grip on your wrists, so you couldn’t brace yourself against anything as Hound began to eagerly eat you out.

His long, magical tongue almost seemed like it had a mind of its own.  Your eyes rolled back as it slipped inside you.  It was almost like a tentacle, seeking out your most sensitive spots while his thumb rubbed your clit in tight circles.

“stars,” Slim moaned.  He was rubbing the front of his pants, where an orange glow could be seen.  “you’re so fuckin’ hot, be nice and loud,” he begged.  You had no choice but to oblige when Hound’s tongue found your g spot.

Hound grinned against you as he attacked the spot over and over again.  Fuck, you were so close, you couldn’t hold back any more!

You came against Hound’s face.  Hard.  You let out breathy pants as your orgasm washed over you.  Hound moaned as if he was the one who had just cum as he drank up everything you had to give him.  

He pulled back only after you had fully come down from your high, panting and relaxing against Papyrus’s chest.  “that was better than i ever imagined,” he purred deeply.  “you’re the tastiest fuckin’ dessert i’ve ever had~”

“I Hope You’re Warmed Up,” Noir smirked.  He pushed Hound out of the way as he made his way to your front.  “Because The Main Event Is Just Beginning~”

“M-main event?” you squeaked.

“what, you think we’re gonna let him have all the fun?” Slim scoffed.  “that was just the appetizer.”

“You Aren’t Going To Leave Us Hanging, Are You?” Papyrus whispered.  He ground his boner against your ass, and you could feel just how hard he was from Hound’s little show.

Well, it would be cruel just to leave them all like this…  “Okay,” you finally said.

A wicked grin from Noir was all the warning you had before you were flipped around.  Now you were facing Papyrus, and he looked just as shocked as you.  “LAY DOWN,” Noir ordered his double.

Papyrus seemed to get what Noir wanted and grinned.  He fully laid down, bringing you with him.  “It’s Okay, Sweet Thing, We’ll Take Good Care Of You,” Papyrus smiled.  He lifted you up, pulling off his pajama pants before gently lowering you onto his cock.

You gasped and shook as he filled you up.  Sure, Hound’s tongue had done a good job of stretching you, but Papyrus was so long!  It felt like you would never stop your descent, he just kept going deeper and deeper~

Finally, you bottomed out, and lay panting, chest to chest with Papyrus.  The skeleton brushed some hair out of your face.  “Well Done, You Take Me So Perfectly!  I Just Knew You Could Do It!”

Just as you were about to speak, something hard prodded against your ass.  You yelped and turned your head to see Noir’s pierced cock nudging at your entrance.  “Just Relax,” he almost ordered.  “It Will Make This Easier.”

You nodded, before Papyrus grabbed your chin, bringing you in for a kiss.  His tongue invaded your mouth, thoroughly distracting you as Noir slowly pushed inside you.

Fuck!  It burned, but still felt amazing!  You weren’t sure if Noir was using some kind of magic to help him, but as he filled you up in new ways, you didn’t care.  You slowly began rocking against Papyrus, using his ribs like handles to ground yourself.

Papyrus pulled away from your kiss to moan.  “Fuck, Do That Again,” he demanded.  You moved your hand in the same way, and Papyrus let out a shuddering breath.  Oh, you liked that sound~

Finally, Noir settled inside of you.  He growled, his tight grip sure to leave bruises.  Finally, he pulled out, before slamming back inside.

You screamed.  You weren’t afraid to admit it.  Having both of their cocks filling you at once, it was almost too much.  Both of them began moving in unison, as one pulled out, the other pushed in, making sure you were never empty.

Just as you were getting used to this, you felt something else at your lips.  You looked up to see Slim.  His honey colored cock was in front of you.  He almost looked embarrassed, but he didn’t even need to ask.  You took him into your mouth.

Slim gasped, an even prettier sound than Papyrus’s.  He put his hand on your head, not to force you down, just for something to hold onto.  His cocks even tasted like honey!

As if he didn’t want to be left out, Hound grabbed your hand and held it to his cock.  It felt almost like a tentacle, similar to his tongue.  You happily moved your hand around it, wanting to make all of them feel just as good as you did.

Noir and Papyrus started to move faster.  It was almost like they were as pent up as you had been.  Papyrus was practically drooling as your hand on his ribs gripped even tighter.  He clumsily rubbed your clit, as if returning the favor.

“You’re So Fucking Perfect,” Noir snarled.  “Taking Us All So Well…”

“you feel amazing,” Slim chimed in.  “i wanna make you feel this good too~”

“such a pretty human,” Hound panted. “We Love You!”

“can’t believe you’re finally ours!”

“wanna see ya cum with all your holes filled~”

“You’re So Fucking Tight~”

“Squeezing Us So Perfectly-”

“cum for us, please honey, please-”

It was all so much!  The knot inside you was tightening further and further, and it only took Noir reaching around you to pinch your nipples and-

You exploded.

You screamed around Slim’s cock as you came.  Your vision turned white, and your body moved against your will.  You thrashed and squirmed, but all their hands held you tight.  Your screaming quickly caused Slim to cum, and he pulled out before painting your chest with his magic.

The others were soon to follow, Noir and Papyrus cumming deep inside you, while Hound’s magic joined Slim’s on your chest.  You almost didn’t register it as you rode through wave after wave of pleasure.

You collapsed on Papyrus’s chest.  “Holy shit…” you panted.

“You Can Say That Again,” Papyrus grinned.  “Thank You.”

“all right, my turn with her pussy.”  You were unceremoniously pulled off Papyrus and onto Slim’s cock.  You choked out a gasp as he filled you up yet again.  “sorry honey, we’re not stopping ‘til you pass out~” Slim winked.

You were fucked.

--------------------------------

Later that night, you were sleeping peacefully in your bed.  The skeletons had cleaned you up and tucked you into your clean sheets.  You were truly perfect, taking all of them multiple times, until you couldn’t cum any more.  What had they done to deserve you?

“Well…Who Do You Think Won?” Noir whispered as they slowly shut your door.  You deserved plenty of rest after that.

“me, obviously, i made her cum first,” Hound bragged.

“but did ya see how her legs shook after she sat on my face?  i think i won,” Slim interrupted.

“I’D SAY WE ALL WON!”  Papyrus held up a piece of paper.  The others all stared at it, not quite knowing what they were seeing.

It was a doodle of all five of you sleeping together in one bed.  Around it were several notes, like “two mattresses?” and “at least fifteen feet wide” and “california king mattress” circled.  It was a very cute doodle, clearly made quickly, but…

The thing they noticed was that you looked happy.  Very happy.  Even though it was a rushed drawing, the peaceful smile on your face stood out.

“WELL, I SUPPOSE THAT SETTLES IT,” Noir shrugged.

“maybe sharing won’t be too bad,” Slim mused.

“I, FOR ONE, CAN’T WAIT FOR THE REST OF OUR LIVES TOGETHER!”

They all couldn’t agree more.

[swampstew]

Captain_CumShot - Chapter 2

Welcome to Raven's Reading Nook - a small corner of this blog dedicated to cozy story times. Take a seat on the chaise lounge, plug your electronic device in so you can enjoy this multi-chapter, full blown smut story. The Captain is the snack and sadly, I have nothing to offer to soothe the yearning. As always, links to Wattpad and AO3 at the bottom. Enjoy, from your favorite loyal, cabin hoe♥

Summary: You treated yourself to a tier upgrade😘

Minors DNI you will be blocked - for adult audiences only.

Admin: Thanks for upgrading your subscription to Tier III! The Captain will want to thank you personally ~ drop your next available hour slot and we’ll set it up.

You: 10 PM

Admin: Talk to you soon ~

10:00 PM

Captain: Hey doll. I’ve seen your likes and comments around here for a while and I’m chuffed that you finally upgraded. What changed?

You: Truthfully, I challenged myself to save up so I can really treat myself when I felt I needed it. Especially after the last year and four months at work.

Captain:…

Captain: You waited ONE YEAR and FOUR MONTHS before you felt like you needed a break?

Captain: I’m flattered you’ve chosen me as your reward but gat damn girl. You need to treat yourself more often.

Captain: What the hell do you do for a job??

You: I’m an accountant at a small but valued firm, so we’re kind of just always busy! Especially at tax time which is ALMOST over. So I spoiled myself a few days early.

Captain: Congratulations ~ Do you work in a stuffy office with a buncha dorks?

You: Well I wouldn’t say dorks and it’s not a closet! I work in an office building with maybe less than 50 other people. I have a corner office so yay for small wins!

Captain: Aye that’s the least they can do fer’ya!

Captain: Do they make you dress business professional like you’re gonna meet the president every day or is it a normal place that lets you dress like a human being?

You: Haha, nothing so refined. Business casual for the most part, Fridays we can wear jeans, and sometimes during the seasons they’ll do a morale boosting themed clothes week thing.

Captain: 🤔

Captain: Does anyone enjoy that?

You: Some do, some don’t. The bosses buy a big lunch spread though so it’s not all bad.

Captain: Tell me, are the morale boosting bits mandatory?

You: You’re not required to dress up. They don’t technically say you have to be at the luncheon but they do have someone sweep the desks to make sure no one is still working. I think they legitimately think they’re providing a “break” for us but like, a paid lunch hour would be a thousand times better.

Captain: Bet.

Captain: You ever skipped it all together? Just said fuck it and hid on the roof to scroll on your phone and eat lunch?

You: Sometimes my car! We have a secure parking garage and its air conditioned so it’s quiet and not boiling hot.

Captain: Hooray for small victories.

Captain: Have you ever gotten uncomfortably turned on enough that you’ve escaped to your car to get relief?

You: 😳

You: Maybe once or twice. I’m always afraid of getting caught.

Captain: I’d make sure we wouldn’t.

Captain: See I personally fucking hate it when instead of just paying people more, employers make their people do a whole dog and pony show. Leave people alone!

Captain: This is literally a crime.

Captain: If you’d let me, I’d come and save you from those stupid lunches.

You: 🤔

You: I wouldn’t hate that!

You: Not sure you could pull it off though, you would garner a lot of attention just from standing, you’re just that attractive 👉👈🥺

Captain: Relax, I’m nothing if not professional. Want to hear my grand scheme that I cooked up, just now?

You: Oh go right ahead!

Captain: I’d start by doing research into your company and get the lunch reservation details of these luncheons. I would then pose as an employee dropping off the food order/doing set up and while everyone is gathering, I would linger a little, totally incognito, and slip out to find your office if you haven’t already entered the room.

Captain: Should I continue? I’m really proud of this scheme actually.                           

You: Please, I wonder how you plan to get away scot-free and not get me fired!

Captain: You’d not only get fired – you’d get off, repeatedly and it would be a seasonal thing cause I’d never get caught. I think it would be a professional bonus because then you’ll be so satisfied at work, you might even get a promotion or pay raise or some shit😏

You: This I gotta hear

Captain: Where was I?

Captain: Just kidding

Captain: I would then smuggle you to the parking garage under the guise that you’re my ‘job equipment’ or whatever, and then, I’d take you to your car. Ideally, I can convince you to get in the van I rented as part of my infiltration disguise so I can actually sit and stand without breaking my neck. The windows are blacked out, I keep anchors and blocks on the wheels to keep it stable, and then I rock your fucking world.

Captain: Still with me?

You: I am

Captain: You’re probably thinking, ‘but if you’re as beastly as I think you are, won’t I be screaming my brains out?’

You: I was!

Captain: As a professional content creator – amongst other trades – I know a thing or two about sound proofing. There’s always a gag if you’re into that.

You: I could be persuaded…

Captain: I have a lot of things I’d like to persuade you to do in there.

Captain: Do you normally participate in the themed clothes or do you keep it professional?

You: I don’t usually, not really my thing.

Captain: I see.

Captain: Back to my scheme ~

Captain: After I’ve successfully fooled everyone and have you in my clutches, I’d take you to my van where you can have a lunch break actually worth attending.

Captain: I would first take off my disguise and reveal that it was me all along! After you get over your initial surprise, I’d ask you what you’re hungry for.

You: Oh I get options?

Captain: Hell yeah doll. Your choices can range anywhere from a quick snack to a mega meal.

You: Do the options change too?

Captain: I don’t believe in constraints. Unless they’re kink-related.

Captain: I think since you’re the kind of doll that doesn’t splurge too much on ‘erself, I’d start you off with a ‘left no crumbs.’

Captain: What that entails is me, sitting you all pretty like on a seat cushion, starting ngwith something soft and sweet. Kisses up the arm, on the neck, slow, building up anticipation. I’d tease you over your clothes, petting your kitten until I feel your wetness through the fabric.

Captain: Pepper your body with kisses and bites to keep you on edge. When I have you down to just your undergarments, I’d sit you in my lap. Spread your thighs open. Start rubbing your pussy until you’re leaking all over my hand. I’ll let you have a quick orgasm, a small and sweet one. But don’t think we’re done.

Captain: I might take my pants off to feel you a bit better. Push you down on my hard-on as I wrap an arm around your waist to keep you still. I’ll use my free hand to play with your pussy again. Rubbing you, flicking you, lightly smacking you, rubbing your clit, finger fucking you. Rub my big dick against your trembling body to make you even more sensitive.

Captain: Since you only have an hour, I’ll make sure you look presentable before you go back to the office. Where you can spend the rest of the day sitting in the mess I’m going to leave. How does that make you feel?

You: I’m…speechless, in a good way…Shit that’s really hot. It makes me feel devious, a bit dirty, like I really want to do it.

Captain: Damn and I haven’t even finished telling you what’s included in your lunch?

You: 🤐

You: Please forgive me

Captain: I could never stay mad at you doll.

Captain: As I was saying ~

Captain: I can’t let you leave your break without feeling fully satisfied.

Captain: Before you go, I’d spend some time with you against the van wall. If you’re into it, I can use rope to help keep you standing. I encourage it, you’re gonna need it.

You: I’m into it, I’m into it 🤤

Captain: Heh. Freak.

Captain: I’d keep you still and propped up, putting your blouse on, keeping my lipstick stains and bites hidden underneath. I’d pull your panties and bottoms over your ankles, slide your soaked underwear up your thighs…

Captain: And give you dessert.

You: What am I having??!

Captain: Me.

Captain: I’d pull your panties up your thighs but not put them on entirely. Leaving them maybe a few inches from your twitching pussy. Then I’d finally let you see my cock.

Captain: Do you want to touch it?

You: Yesss🥺please let me touch.

Captain: Don’t worry you’ll be feeling it.

Captain: I’ll prod my cock against your clit, slide it up and down your puffy lips, maybe push in a little bit.

Captain: After I get it nice and wet with you, I’d stand in front of you and fuck your body. I won’t go in in, I’ll slide in between your desperate lips, make you clench over my cock with your needy pussy, I’ll hit your delicious ass cheeks, pull back out and rub against your clit until you’re crying.

You: Oh my fucking god.

Captain: I’m not done.

Captain: While I do this, I’ll rub my thumb down on your clit, and I won’t stop until you’ve cum over my cock, frustrated yet relieved.

Captain: But don’t be disappointed just yet because the next part is my favorite part.

Captain: As you’re coming down from your orgasm, I’ll finish myself off. Jerking myself in front of you and finishing right on your cunt.

You: 🥵

Captain: Yeah.

Captain: I’d milk my length to cover you, watching it drip from your vulva and trembling lips down to your underwear and thighs. Whatever falls further down I’d wipe with my thumb and make you lick it off.

Captain: Then I’ll pull your panties up nice and high, make sure they sit on your hips just right, don’t want any of me to spill out. For good measure, I might even rub your underwear against you some just to smear it in you some more.

Captain: I love cum play.

Captain: I’ll pull up your bottoms, wipe your tears, and send you away with a kiss on the cheek and a slap on the ass.

Captain: How does that sound doll?

You: I would fucking die!!! I want this so bad fuck why would you DO THAT TO ME?!?🥵🤤 FUCK! You’re so hot, all I want is to touch you and be touched by you😩

Captain: Are you touching yourself?

You: If I said yes?🥺

Captain: I’d say me too. Check out the photo gallery later, you’ll see the load I blew for ya😘

Captain: Glad to add you to my harem of Cabin Hoes. I’m not supposed to have favorites, but I think I’m gonna grow fond of you.

Captain: G’night doll. Thanks for subscribing😘

<end chat>

Leave a vote/kudos/like to tip OR hit bookmark/add to reading list/reblog to subscribe.

[swiftiethatlovesf1]

A race for love p.22

Hii guyss, I hope you enjoy this part. If you've missed part 21 or the other parts you can find them on my masterlist :)

Formula 1 is all about speed, but in this story, the real race isn't just on the track. Read on to find out who will win the ultimate race-for your heart

It had been weeks since you returned to university, and although you were excited to start your degree, a part of you missed the paddock—the energy, the noise, and most of all, Franco.

The transition back to student life had been strange. The days were filled with lectures, labs, and late-night study sessions, but no matter how busy you tried to keep yourself, the quiet evenings always brought a pang of longing. You missed the camaraderie of your paddock friends, the teasing from Lando and Oscar, and the thrill of race weekends. Most of all, you missed Franco's presence—the way he made you feel grounded, even amidst the chaos.

You and Franco talked every day, whether it was quick texts between classes or long video calls that stretched late into the night. His move to Formula 2 had been announced a few days ago, and the pride you felt for him was immeasurable. Seeing his name in the headlines, knowing how hard he had worked, made your heart swell.

But the distance was still hard. You couldn't help but wish he were closer, especially as the weekend approached. Fridays had become your favorite day—not just because of the break from classes, but because it meant you could spend more time talking to him.

When your last class finally ended, you hurried back to your dorm, eager to kick off the weekend. The crisp autumn air nipped at your cheeks as you climbed the stairs to your room. As soon as you pushed open the door, you stopped in your tracks.

Sitting on your desk was a bouquet of flowers, a beautiful arrangement of roses and lilies that filled the small room with their sweet scent. Your bag slipped from your shoulder as you stared at them, your mind racing.

Who sent these?

You stepped closer, noticing a small card tucked into the bouquet. Before you could reach for it, you heard a voice behind you, one you hadn't expected to hear outside of your phone screen.

"Surprise."

Your heart leapt as you turned around, and there he was—Franco, leaning casually against the doorframe with that familiar smirk that made your knees weak. His dark hair was slightly tousled, and he looked every bit as perfect as you remembered.

"Franco?" you breathed, your voice barely above a whisper.

He stepped into the room, closing the door behind him. "I missed you too much," he said simply, his voice soft but filled with emotion.

Before you could respond, he was already in front of you, his arms wrapping around you tightly. The familiar warmth of his embrace sent a wave of relief and joy through you, and you buried your face in his chest, breathing him in.

"I can't believe you're here," you said, pulling back just enough to look up at him.

"I couldn't stay away any longer," he admitted, brushing a strand of hair from your face. "The phone calls weren't enough. I needed to see you."

Your lips curved into a smile, and before you could overthink it, you leaned up to kiss him. His lips met yours with the same intensity you felt in your chest, a mixture of longing and love that made everything else fade away.

When you finally pulled apart, he rested his forehead against yours, his hands still on your waist. "Te extrañé tanto," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

(I missed you so much)

"I missed you too," you whispered, your fingers lightly tracing the fabric of his shirt as if to confirm he was really there.

He smiled, his eyes sparkling as he glanced at the flowers on your desk. "Do you like them?"

"They're beautiful," you said, glancing at the bouquet before looking back at him. "But not as much as the person who brought them."

He chuckled, pulling you back into his arms. "Good answer."

He pulled you over to the small couch in your room, sitting down and tugging you into his lap. "I want to spend the weekend with you," he said, his voice soft but full of determination. "Just us. No teams, no schedules—just time to catch up and be together."

Your heart melted at his words, and you nodded. "I'd like that."

He grinned, pressing a kiss to your temple. "Good, because I've already made plans for us."

You laughed softly, your fingers playing with the hem of his shirt. "Oh, really? What kind of plans?"

"Romantic ones," he teased, his eyes twinkling. Then, his expression grew more serious as he added, "And there's something else I wanted to ask you in person."

You tilted your head, curious. "What is it?"

"There's going to be a dinner next month," he began, "for the F2 drivers and their partners. I wanted to know if you'd come with me. As my girlfriend."

The way he said it, so straightforward yet vulnerable, made your chest tighten. You smiled, leaning in to kiss him softly. "Of course, I'll go with you."

His shoulders relaxed, and he let out a breath of relief. "You have no idea how much that means to me."

"For you, Franco? Anything," you said, your voice full of affection.

The rest of the evening was spent wrapped in each other's presence, talking, laughing, and cherishing every moment together. The distance didn't seem so daunting with Franco by your side, and for the first time in weeks, everything felt right.

Tag list: @hs2016, @a-beaverhausen

Next Part

[moonlight-records]

FORMULA ONE MASTERLIST

home ★ request ★ rules ★ masterlist

technical theater partner! ★ summary: hc's bout reader working in theater

skate to my heart - hockey player!reader ★ summary: when hockey season overlaps with F1 season, there's bound to be sparks flying

skate to my heart - hockey player!reader ★ summary: when hockey season overlaps with F1 season, there's bound to be sparks flying

favorite days ★ summary: a glimpse into driver's favorite thing they do with you

opposites attract - part 1 | ★ summary: you visit max after a long tech weekend, which is in time for the miami gp (18+)

so american ★ summary: Snippets of times that Storm, an up and coming American figure skater, being Lando and Max's favorite American soon to he partner friend

nutcracker after hours ★ summary: It's nutcracker season and you have taken the role of production stage manager for your theater. Your boyfriend reminds you that he is your biggest fan and supporter.

mr. & mrs. surprise: part 1 | part 2 ★ summary: logan and his partner decide to hard launch their relationship as casually as possible during a week break

take a break ★ summary: its launch day for williams and your boyfriend so overwhelmed and tired you decide to give him a quick pick me up

favorite days ★ summary: a glimpse into driver's favorite thing they do with you

light show surprise ★ summary: your favorite activity during the holiday season is to go look at the holiday lights. thankfully, Logan knows just what to do.

iconic duo ★ summary: an f1 driver who does photography on the side and a cosplayer start dating (suggestive)

paddock throuple ★ summary: an insight to the paddocks favorite throuple outside of f1 before a race weekend

backpack princess ★ summary: an f1 driver and a biker finally take their crushes off of social media

impromptu dates ★ summary: a bookworm & f1 driver + stomach bug = the best lazy date ever.

hole in one ★ summary: your boyfriends want to go golfing on...luckily, you're not the only one who thinks golfing isn't the only hole in one today-- (18+)

favorite days ★ summary: a glimpse into driver's favorite thing they do with you

rich boys don't have hearts - I | II | III ★ summary: Formula Ivy Academy, or FIA for short, is the most...Though, he didn't expect you to have as much of a...bite to you for a little nobody.

because i liked a boy ★ summary: You were known as the one who tamed Mr. Playboy... you regret what you've done all because you liked a boy.

so american ★ summary: Snippets of times that Storm, an up and coming American figure skater, being Lando and Max's favorite American soon to he partner friend

three musketeers unite ★ summary: Lando gets a flat on his adventure prior to the Austin GP and finds himself stuck. Luckily, he finds not only help but maybe a new friend

skating disaster ★ summary: you want to go ice skating. oscar, being the wonderful boyfriend he is, will take the chance and try it once. it might also be because the other boyfriend is coming and he really wants to go ice skating

decorating side quest ★ summary: You want to get a head start on decorating. Your boyfriend is willing to help when it's not first thing in the morning and his dick is doing all the thinking and talking.

birthday races ★ summary: your best friends are both in October with one day apart. Usually, you're on top of the best combined birthday ever and somehow the one year you rarely plan happens to be the best one yet.

favorite days ★ summary: a glimpse into driver's favorite thing they do with you

slip (stream) into my heart - part 1 | part 2 ★ summary: a certain ferrari driver has taken a liking to a certain streamer and sees his chance to finally start chatting with them

black friday nightmare ★ summary: your boyfriend decides to join you for some black friday shopping. it goes nothing like planned but that's the chaos of black friday shopping, right?

hole in one ★ summary: your boyfriends want to go golfing on...luckily, you're not the only one who thinks golfing isn't the only hole in one today-- (18+)

favorite days ★ summary: a glimpse into driver's favorite thing they do with you

paddock throuple ★ summary: an insight to the paddocks favorite throuple outside of f1 before a race weekend

IOU ★ summary: reader & oscar are best friends but reader would love to get a shot with ghostface. what they don’t know is that their chances are closer than they think…

favorite days ★ summary: a glimpse into driver's favorite thing they do with you

skating disaster ★ summary: you want to go ice skating. oscar, being the wonderful boyfriend he is, will take the chance and try it once. it might also be because the other boyfriend is coming and he really wants to go ice skating

favorite days ★ summary: a glimpse into driver's favorite thing they do with you

And The Winner Is... part 1 | part 2 ★ summary: you love sabrina carpenter and your icon is giving one lucky audience member pink fuzzy handcuffs before 'Juno'. the catch? she's picking men more then females. it's a great thing that your boyfriend is really hot

DEBUT ARTISTS:

36. Mick Schumacher

37. Arthur Leclerc

47. Franco Colapinto

55. Carlos Sainz

[itsscatballou]

The End Will Justify It All - Chapter 5

A Negan Series

Chapter 4 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 1

Warnings: adult themes, adult language, rough/slightly violent smut (18+ only)

A/n - my husband got a new video game so my Friday night was wide open to work on this. It's my favorite in the series so far, and I apologize for how long it is. Feedback is welcome! And a quick inspo credit to @green-eyedladywrites - she reblogged this photo of a statue in a sex museum in Korea several weeks ago, which stuck in my brain and brought about this sex scene. I hope you all enjoy! (ps - I was having major keyboard glitches so if there are bad typos I'm sorry!)

Being part of a Savior crew seemed to come naturally to her. It wasn’t a surprise; she’d been part of groups like these before. She’d learned how to work them to her advantage many times over. Simon started her as a grunt, sending her on the errands and tasks no one else really cared to do, but she didn’t mind. Every task gave her more information about the place, another advantage in her planning.

One of the tasks she was assigned was to check on Dwight’s guard team. Dwight and a couple of his guys took shifts guarding Daryl’s cell door or taking him out for his work with the walkers at the gate. She would check in with them a few times a day, bring them meals when they were on duty, and occasionally kept them company for a while. She cherished this task, the chance to be so close to Daryl. She had to force herself not to pay him any attention, but she stole as many glances as she could when his guards weren’t looking.

All the guys in the crew took to her quickly. They began including her in jokes, games, often inviting her for drinks after their shifts.  Simon especially seemed to enjoy her company. They soon had a rapport full of banter and laughs. It didn’t take long for her to move out of grunt work, although she suspected being a wife helped her rise in rank, too. No one wanted to be the one sending Negan’s wife on dumb errands and risk his anger. As her status on the crew rose, Simon began asking her advice. Much like Negan with Rick’s group, he was looking for the best ways to exploit the weaknesses of  leaders of the communities he collected from. It was unsettling to her how good she was at it. She had always been good at reading people. She’d used that in the past to survive, but this was different. This was no longer survival, this was… dominance. She couldn’t deny there was a part of her that found naming a stranger’s weakness and using it to get what the Saviors wanted somewhat thrilling. The more Simon asked that of her, the better she got at it. It became a point of pride for her amongst the crew. After a few successful runs, Simon started asking her to stay behind. They would spend hours debriefing or discussing the next run, sometimes over drinks.

It was during one of these after collection debriefs with Simon that she noticed a shift in him. She was sitting on the edge of the back of a refrigerated truck where Simon was leaning against it right beside her. They were laughing about one guy that wet his pants when she had gotten in his face, whatever threat she made hitting the nail on the head.

Suddenly Simon wasn’t laughing, he was staring at her. An intense look in his eye, like he’d just seen her for the first time. She squirmed shyly and nudged his arm gently with her shoulder.

“We make a good team, huh?” she grinned at him.

“We do… but I think it’s more you than me.” He replied, nudging her back.

She heard boots crunch in the gravel nearby. She put a hand on Simon’s arm and leaned a little closer as she said in a low voice, “I’m glad Negan put me on your crew.”

A Savior appeared from around the corner of the truck and both she and Simon quickly separated, attempting to look as casual as possible. The Savior stared at them for a moment, seeming to debate saying something. Finally, he informed them, “Negan called a gathering in the warehouse. He wants everyone there, you especially,” he looked at her. “You should find the other wives for this.”

She did as she was told, finding where the wives were standing, and making her way to stand beside Sherry and Amber. Amber looked pale and gaunt.  Y/n raised an eyebrow at Sherry to ask what was up with Amber. Sherry jerked her chin to show her. Following the direction Sherry motioned, she saw a handsome guy strapped to a chair, in front of a blazing fire.

Oh no. Mark. Amber’s lover. They’d been stupid – they’d been caught. She’d tried to warn Amber it was a bad idea – Negan only had one rule for the wives: do not cheat on him. She was honestly amazed only Mark sat before the fire now. Someone must have done some convincing to get him to let Amber off… She looked around, seeing Dwight at the fire with the poker – her blood boiled. She already despised him, but the more she learned of him from Sherry, and the more she saw how he treated Daryl, her dislike had transitioned to blind hate. Her eyes moved from Dwight to the person beside him and she nearly gasped when her eyes met Daryl’s. They locked eyes and she instinctively began to move toward him.

She was stopped short as Negan entered then, walking forward to talk to the crowd. She didn’t hear a word he said, though, as she saw who came in behind him. The Sherriff’s hat gave him away first, and her heart stopped. Why was Carl here? When had he gotten here? Had Negan taken him?

Her eyes shot to Daryl, and she found him still looking at her. What the fuck? She mouthed at him. He subtly shook his head, and she turned her attention back to Carl, willing him to look at her. His face changed at something Negan was doing, she felt Sherry move to Amber and saw her embrace her, so she turned her attention back to the spectacle. Dwight was pulling the hot iron from the fire and Negan was gloving his hands to take it.

She couldn’t let this happen. Mark and Amber had been dumb, but they didn’t deserve this. Amber was not the strongest, she wouldn’t handle this well at all. And Carl… Carl didn’t need to see this. How could she stop it?

She didn’t know what drove her to do it, barely registered her own voice as she called to Negan, “wait!” He put his outstretched hand down and looked at her, fury building behind his eyes at the public challenge. If she shut up and sank back now, he’d probably let this go. That would be the smart thing to do. She felt all eyes on her as her body did the exact opposite and she found herself standing in between Mark and Negan. Idiot. What are you doing?

“I’ll take it. Burn me instead.” She heard some gasps and murmurs from the crowd. She refused to look at Daryl, who was no doubt readying to fight off every Savior in this building for her.

Negan tilted his head as he asked, “Now why would you do that? Why would I do that?”

“Mark is an incredible shot, way better than I’ll ever be, and very valuable to his crew. If you burn him, he’ll be down healing for weeks, and you’ll be lucky if his aim is ever the same going that close to his eye” she pointed at Dwight’s scarred eyed. “I’m barely more than a grunt. If I’m down a few weeks, the worst that happens is Fat Joey doesn’t get his sandwich delivered and he has to go get it himself.” Some guys chuckled behind her.

She could feel the crowd lean in, could feel their pity, and their gratitude – Mark was beloved by a lot of these people. He was a good guy, that’s why Amber liked him so much. And she’d made good points – his crew needed him. They were already short-handed with the redistribution of men following Rick’s massacre at the satellite station. Losing another one from their barebones crew would hurt. They would not be happy about it.

“That’s so very noble of you, sweetheart,” Negan cooed at her. “But what lesson would that teach Mark? How is he going to learn the importance of following the rules if someone else can just step in and take his consequences?’

After a long pause, Negan reached again for the hot iron and added, “and your face is plenty hot enough as it is.”

Someone grabbed her arm and pulled her back to the crowd as Negan advanced toward Mark. She stumbled back with them, and as the screaming started, she turned and left. She could feel the rage of the crowd behind her as she exited. She walked until she reached Negan’s apartment and sat down against the wall outside his door to wait.

She didn’t have to wait long before Negan and Carl approached. She stood as they neared Negan’s door and gave Carl a hard look.

“Carl,” Negan drawled, “I don’t believe you have met my new wife!” Carl scowled at her at the realization.

“Negan, could I speak to you?” she asked him, glancing at Carl pointedly, “privately?”

“As much as I would love a little romp in the sack with you, I am a little busy right now.”

“Negan.”

He moved closer to her, a cat on the prowl. “I said not right now.” He leaned in close enough to whisper in her ear. “I’ll find you later. I have some things to discuss with you too.” His breath on her neck tickled, causing goosebumps to rise. He gently kissed the area, and she saw Carl tense and clench his fist. Negan left her in the hall, leading Carl into his room.

Frustrated, and still confused about Carl being here, she stomped back to her room to wait.

-----

Her time with Negan since the night he held her while she cried in her room had been, well, confusing. He called her to dinner again the following night and they played their question game again, both seeming to ask more interesting questions about the other. She’d learned a lot about him that night, his softer side. It surprised her. She’d also been given a gift, a “reward” he’d called it for such good information about Rick.

“Anything thing you want, ask. A new, badass gun? A bottle of the whiskey we took from Hilltop? Name it. I am in a giving mood, and you earned a good gift,” he’d told her, flirtatiously but genuine enough.

“Do I have to name it right now, or can I think on it a bit?” she’d asked.

“My generosity does have limitations, but you can take the rest of dinner to think on it.”

After dinner, and a few shots later for each of them, she’d chosen what she would ask for.

“I know what I’d like my reward to be,” she declared after he downed his 4th shot, dodging a question about his love life before the old world fell. He smiled at her and nodded in invitation to ask.

“I would like…” she said, drawing it out to tease him a little. The three shots of Whiskey she’d taken had her in a playful mood. He raised an eyebrow suggestively at her. “Oh, you wish,” she fired back. “No. Nothing like that. What I’d like is, well... 5 free questions. I let you know when one of my questions will be the free pass, and you have to answer, 100% truthfully, with no option to back out by taking a shot.”

She quickly saw the loophole in her request so she added, “and I can use them whenever I want, no time limits.” She replayed her words in her head, making sure they were airtight. She felt like she was dealing with a genie from a fairytale.

Negan studied her, a mix of pleasant surprise and something else behind his eyes. “I will give you 3.”

She grinned at him, about to agree when he added, “but I get 3 of the same.”

“Wha- how is that a gift if you get it too?” she whined back.

“Because the gift is from me, and those are my conditions. If you’d like to change your choice to that gun or something a little more… intimate, I will allow it.” He bit his lip, and something in her heated. Stupid whiskey.

She knew it wasn’t a good idea, it was risky to commit to that.  But the thought of him having to answer her with no possibility to back out was too tempting to pass up. She prayed the reward would be worth this risk.

“Deal.” This was the second deal she’d made with the devil in a week.  

The following nights were unpredictable. She wasn’t invited back for dinner for a few nights, and by the third, she felt unnerved by it. Not afraid, just... bored.  On those nights she’d make her way down and usually found Simon eating outside by a fire, where she’d sit and drink and talk with him until she felt tired enough or tipsy enough to go to bed.

The nights she did have dinner with Negan were the same: eat, questions, drink. Sometimes she’d ask to play a boardgame, and they’d continue their game of questions over Scrabble (which she always won and let him hear about it).

One night, after a brutal placement of the word “quiz,” she used her first free question.

“Negan,” she approached it gently. He looked up from his scrabble tiles with curiosity. She didn’t use his name often. “I’d like to use my first free question.”

He slowly grinned at her. “Alright,” he agreed, “let me finish my drink first. I’m sure I’ll need it.” And he downed the remainder of his whiskey in one go. “Okay, shoot.”

“We’ve had a lot of these dinners together,” she prefaced, “and at our first one, you said as a wife I would have to perform ‘wifely duties.’” She paused.

“There a question in there?” he teased her.

She took a deep breath, suddenly nervous to ask this. “Well, you haven’t, um… touched me. At all. You haven’t even asked to… so I guess my question is, why not?”

Negan chuckled. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. It’s not your looks, if that’s your concern.”

She rolled her eyes and shook her head at him. He knew that wasn’t what she was asking.

“Fine. No, I haven’t tried or asked, but it isn’t because I don’t want to.”  He winked at her. “In fact, I want to so bad it drives me crazy when you leave here at night. None of my other wives leave here until I’m satisfied… but I knew from the night you came in here and told me to make Rick hold Lucille that you wouldn’t be like my other wives.”

She raised an eyebrow at him, encouraging him to continue.

“You’re different. I want it to be different with you. I told you before, I have enough obedient dogs. So as badly as I want it, I will not touch you until you want it too. And trust me, darlin’, you will want it,” he purred in that Negan arrogance.

She would never want it, she told herself. She told herself so many times she started dreaming it. But no matter how much she told herself she would never want it; it didn’t stop a part of her from heating every time she thought of those words.

She was invited back the next night, where instead of their typical drinking game of questions, Negan upped the ante with a rousing game of strip questions. If they didn’t answer a question, they had to remove an item of clothing.

She was thanking her lucky stars she’d come straight to dinner from a collection with her crew, so she had a lot more clothing on than she normally would at dinner.

With such high stakes, the questions got very personal. “Where is the craziest place you’ve ever fucked?” started it off, and it moved into first loves, worst heartbreaks, hardest kills, and eventually biggest fears.  They were both on the couch, him sitting a little too close to her, and both down to their underthings when he used his first free question.

“Free card question,” he stated, leaning a little closer to her. He kissed her bare shoulder, and it sent goosebumps down her arm. Tracing circles with his finger where his lips just were, he asked in a growly tone, “why did you really volunteer to come back with me that night in the woods?”

Uh oh. She sent a silent thank you up to whoever was listening for not being three shots deep into this game. She paused a minute, what could she tell him?

“What?” she flirted, buying some time to think, “you don’t think you impressed me enough for me to want to go with you?”

“No,” he replied, still tracing circles on her shoulder. “I knew when the words left your mouth it wasn’t true. I’ve been trying since then to figure out why you’re here. I thought maybe it was to spy, help Rick take us down from the inside. But you’ve proven to be working against him, and other communities, over and over since then.” She cringed inside at that. Had she gotten that bad? “Then I thought, maybe you were just biding your time to get close enough to kill me. And that could still be true, but the way your body is reacting to my every touch right now, I am doubting it. So, I’d like to know now, what was your reason?”

Think, y/n. Think. It had to be believable. She obviously couldn’t tell him the truth. She feigned a little nervousness, hoping it sold her story.

“I… well…I wanted to kill Dwight,” there was plenty of truth in that. “Honestly, I still wouldn’t mind doing it. I thought my best bet was to get inside here with him.”

He waited for her to continue. “He killed the girl I was seeing. The doctor in Alexandria. Shot her through the eye with Daryl’s crossbow.”

“Wow,” Negan replied. “You play for both teams? I did not see that coming!” He laughed. “I will remember that for our future. As for Dwight… well, I don’t hold a special place in my heart for him, but I’d like him to stay alive for the time being. If or when that changes, you will be the first to know.”

He seemed satisfied with her lie.

“I’m glad it wasn’t to kill me,” he purred, leaning into her neck, “I think you would have missed things you don’t want to miss…” his hand found her knee and began slowly trailing from up her thigh. His lips found skin again, this time on a tender part of her neck.

No, no, no, no. She thought, though her body was responding differently. She franticly searched for any sort of distraction to stop where this was headed. Her eyes scanned the room, anything to ask about, to suddenly find fascinating enough she needed to look at. Then she saw it, leaned against the wall under a window.

“I have a question now. A free one.”

“Mmhmm?” he moaned out, still kissing her neck in a way that was making her quiver.

“Lucille,” she said, putting a hand against his chest and pushing a bit. “Where did you get the name?”

He froze, his lips no longer on her skin. He didn’t seem to breathe for several long seconds. Then he was standing, putting on his pants, and walking toward the door.

“We’re done here,” he said firmly, holding the door open for her.

She stared in shock for a moment, and when it was clear he was not joking, she quickly grabbed her clothes and fled his room.

That was the last time she’d seen him, until now, with Carl in tow. It had been days, maybe a week. What she’d thought was an innocent question had really struck a nerve.

-----

Negan didn’t send for her until late in the evening. She’d had supper already, a bath, and was about to settle into bed with a book when the guard knocked on her door.  She didn’t bother dressing up, she decided her leggings and cropped sweatshirt would be just fine if he was pulling her out of bed. She had half a mind to tell him he could see her at a decent hour tomorrow, but she desperately wanted to know what was going on with Carl.

She didn’t knock when she got there, she just walked right in, to find him sitting on the couch with a drink in one hand, and the other hand dragging down his face in exhaustion.

“Long day?” she quipped, looking around for any sign of the Grimes boy.

“You could say that,” he replied, humorless.

She decided not to waste any time with flirting or working up to her questions.

“Where is Carl?” she demanded.

He stared at her, and she was not sure he was going to answer her at all when he finally said, “he’s back home with daddy and baby Grimes, safe and sound.”

Relief washed over her. “What was he doing here?”

Negan chuckled. “He was here to kill me. You weren’t lying when you said the kid was reckless. I like the little bastard.”

“He just showed up to kill you?” she asked, surprised but not shocked. It was a very Carl thing to do.

“He snuck in on a supply truck earlier today. Killed two of our guards before we got to him.”

She didn’t let her face show the pride she felt.  “And you just let him go?” she accused.

“I don’t think you’re in any position to question anything I do,” he replied angrily.

“What the hell does that mean?” she challenged. He’d shut her out and ignored her for a week now, she’d lost any desire to filter her annoyance with him.

“I think you know exactly what it means.”

She glared at him, at a loss. What was he accusing her of?

“Tell me,” he said, standing up and taking a few slow steps toward her. “How many people were you screwing in Alexandria?”

“What?” she asked, incredulous.

“Carl seemed real pissed when he learned you were my wife. I just wonder how many people in Alexandria you went through before coming here to expand your selection. Rick, obviously. Your little girlfriend, who else? The redhead? The mullet guy? Spencer? Yeah, I met that douche bag today. Is there anyone else I should know about? I hear you’ve gotten mighty friendly with Simon. Practically throwing himself yourself at him, touching all over him, going to him every night, not days after licking your lips and batting your lashes at me. Anyone here you got your eye on?”

She heard a slap, Negan’s face turned abruptly to the side, she felt a sting in her palm, and a redness began spreading across his cheek.

She’d slapped him. Shit, she’d slapped him.

She bit down the terror of the realization – she’d seen very bad things happen to people who’d done a lot less to him. She willed her face into a rebellious glare, daring him to retaliate, promising hell if he did.

Negan’s stare was just as hateful, never breaking eye contact as he rubbed his cheek and flexed his jaw. Suddenly he sprang toward her, his hand was on her throat, and he was shoving her backwards, she could barely keep upright they were moving so fast. Her back slammed against the concrete wall. Negan’s face was within an inch of hers, she could feel his warm breath on her mouth as he growled, “that. will. not. happen. again,” pausing on each word like a forceful bite. She was prying at his hand with both hands, trying to loosen his grip enough that she could take a breath, refusing to show him the panic rising in her.

He let his grip loosen a bit. “Do you understand?”

“Yes,” she breathed out as she gasped to fill her lungs again. He did not remove his hand from her throat or yield even a centimeter to her.  He continued to stare daggers into her eyes, but there was something other than anger behind them. What is that?

Desire, she realized. Animalistic desire.  It was then she noticed just how close their bodies were, his hips pinning hers in place against the wall, her feet barely touching the floor. She could feel his growing erection pressing into her. She felt a tingle in her core, her body betraying her. Her breath suddenly felt heavy, her chest heaving against his. An image of their naked chests pressed together flashed in her mind, it was as if she could already feel his bare skin. Did she really want this? From him? After all he’d done? She knew she shouldn’t, but with him pressed against her, hand still on her throat, and looking at her like that… she couldn’t deny the desire growing in her, verging dangerously close to need.

He must have read that on her face, because suddenly Negan’s mouth was on hers, crushing her lips with his, his scruff scraping her chin and cupids bow as he sucked, unrelenting. His tongue began forcefully pushing against her lips, like a battering ram, demanding entrance. She conceded. He tasted her mouth like he was eating for the first time in a week - hungrily, greedily, but savoring the taste of each section of her mouth he explored. Then she was kissing him back, just as greedily – no, angrily. It became not a dance of lovers, but a battle of opponents. His tongue pushed, hers pushed back in turn. Her lips sucked, he fought for dominance with his. She bit – not gently- down on his bottom lip and slowly dragged against his lip until it was free. He pulled away from her face at that and his eyes met hers, amusement dancing in them now. He’d met his match. He grinned at the realization.

Their noisy, shallow breaths filled the otherwise silent room, awakening her from the trance his tongue had put her in. She fought to stay above the fog, forcing herself to remember the things he’d done, to remember Daryl, but the memories would not come. All there was in this moment was him - his body, and hers. His dark eyes held her stare a moment longer, and then they were closed, and his lips were crushing hers again. His hands began lifting her sweatshirt from around her waist, his fingers trailing up her stomach. He explored with gentle fingertips, caressing up and down her sides, his knuckles grazing across her lower abdomen, leaving no patch of skin untouched, a trail of goosebumps in their wake. As his hands creeped up her torso, his touch became fiercer. He reached her breasts, found them bare under her shirt, and groaned into her mouth as each hand took a full palm of breast and began massaging. He was not gentle, but she did not pull away. He backed away from her only enough to allow room to remove her shirt and expose her fully. His lips were back on hers in an instant, no less demanding than before. They moved to her neck, and she felt one of her traitorous hands move to the back of his head, tangling her fingers in his short hair. She hadn’t planned on encouraging this, but she gripped his hair harder as he his trailed his lips down her chest, finding a breast and softly biting down. An involuntary moan purred in her throat. He moved to her nipple and began a rough pattern of sucking and biting, causing the heat between her legs to flare.

Again, it was as if he read her mind, as he worked her breast with his mouth, he quickly pulled down her leggings, taking her underwear with them. She was thankful she had not put on shoes to come here tonight, providing no obstacle to kicking out of her pants as he sank to his knees and began moving his lips down her stomach. Further.

“Jump,” Negan growled against her stomach.

“Wh- what?” she barely stuttered out.

“Jump.”

She hopped slightly, then she was being lifted her by her backside, her thighs placed on either side of his head, her bodyweight now shared between the wall and his shoulders. He did not waste time kissing those thighs, or staring lustfully, or slowly working his way to her center. Hungrily, almost angrily, he dove straight for her, parting her lips with his fingers to make way for his tongue. He lapped at her liked a parched animal at water, and found she was just as wet. She arched away from the wall in response. His warm tongue hitting her clit at every angle as it moved. He sucked, and her eyes rolled back in her head as she cried out. Both hands now in his hair, gripping in response to each flick of his tongue, encouraging his rough movements. She rode his face, rolling her hips, her thighs unapologetically pressing in on his head. She wouldn’t last much longer; she could feel her climax building quickly. Now his tongue was at her entrance, teasing as he gently licked around it. She pushed his head into her, needing him to be inside her, desperate to be filled and to find release. He plunged his tongue in, flatting it as he found the underside of her clit, and slowly dragged it back out and up, never breaking contact. He plunged in again with no pause. Dragging, plunging, dragging, plunging. He worked her with expert pressure, she was all but screaming at the sensation. On the last slow drag of her clit, he swept up as he exited, an unrelenting pressure on her sensitive bud, sending her orgasm exploding through her. She threw her head back and did not recognize the noise that escaped her open mouth as she came against his face. He lightly flicked his tongue against her until he was sure she had fully completed.

Before she knew it was happening, she was back on the floor, and he was walking away from her.

“You’re dismissed,” was all he said as he moved to open the door.

She gathered her clothes – she would need to have a word with him about this new habit of sending her from his room undressed – and made for the door. She paused in front of him and turned to meet his eyes, letting him see a twinge of hurt in them.

“Since you asked, and I am counting this as one of your free questions, I did not sleep with Rick or anyone else in Alexandria. And I have about as much romantic interest in Simon as you do,” and with that she made her way back to her room, naked but not caring who saw her.

Back in the dorm, she raced to the bathroom, barely making it to the toilet before vomiting. Sherry must have heard her, because moments later she was sitting beside her, holding her hair back. Sherry sat with her until she was finished, and then let her lay her head in Sherry’s lap while Sherry stroked her hair.

She didn’t cry. She didn’t shake. She wasn’t traumatized. She hated herself. She hated herself because she knew then she didn’t hate Negan, and she didn’t hate what they’d just done. She hated herself because she wanted more.

It’s time, she vowed to herself, tomorrow we leave, even if we have to burn this place to the ground to get out.

[alrightbuckaroo]

Fic Pride Friday

Happy Friday, everyone! I missed this last week so I thought I'd make up for it this week! I don't have in me to go through 40+ works as of late, so I just pulled some from my long form work. Thanks to @carlos-in-glasses, @vineofroses, @bonheur-cafe and @literateowl for the tags!

Rules: Post your favorite line or passage from as many of your published works as you’d like. Let yourself feel proud of your creations! Tag as many people as you post snippets, so your fellow fic friends can be proud, too.

tender eyes that shine:

TK’s thrusts are in rapid succession; the only thing keeping up with the rhythm is Carlos’ heartbeat. It’s as if TK, right now, in this moment, is a lifeline that Carlos is tethered to that’s born out of nothing more desirous longing and trust.

TK calls him “Baby” and the last thing Carlos thinks is that he can only hope Heaven will be half as sweet as the way that word sounds rolling off of TK’s tongue. Suddenly, the darkness that’s gripped him seems to ease itself. Darkness ebbs away as the light becomes something more tangible, something just out of reach. He opens his eyes, and he sees both TK and his father. Carlos isn’t sure if he’s been brought back from death or if he’s been left to his own devices in Heaven. He’s always thought that TK has the beauty of an angel that’s come down to Earth, one that’s replaced his halo with a fireman’s cap. When he sees his father standing above him, it comes as no surprise. Carlos has always considered him to be a martyr, fighting the good fight until the very end. With the warm golden hue surrounding the both of them, he thinks this must be the highest the sky can go.

summer slipped us underneath her tongue:

TK leans down, causing a dip in the bed as he leans in to give Carlos a kiss. He tastes like last night’s raspberry tart and all of Carlos’ dreams come true. He pulls away and says, “I’ll be back before you have the chance to miss me.”  Carlos smiles, his face still cupped between TK’s hands.  “It’s hard not to miss you. I love having you around.” There’s that word again: love.  Love is a word that’s always tossed around casually, even by them; but the way it sounds rolling off of Carlos’ tongue causes TK’s heart to skip a beat. As if it’s a rock being thrown across a once still pond.  Ever since TK realized that this, this thing with Carlos is no longer casual but something very real; the word love has hit his ear differently each and every time. He loves Carlos, and all he wants to do is tell him. 

Carlos is spiraling well beyond his control. He’s trying to piece where he went wrong but then TK is grabbing his hand and saying his name like it’s the only word he’s ever know.

29 Going on 30

TK’s a little disheartened at the realization. He used to know this city like the back of his hand; now he feels like he’s wearing a glove.

“I think that part of living life is finding new ways to left love in,” Carlos continues. “Learning that love can be an afternoon serenade, a hideous sweater that you still found a way to look good in or the realization that the love that feels too good to be true is the love that you’ve been deserving of all along.” TK is quiet for a beat; a medley of mixed emotions overtaking him. Love that feels too good to be true is the love that you’ve been deserving of all along. Maybe Carlos is right, maybe he needs to let himself finally feel comfortable with the idea that this type of love isn’t meant to crumble. He won’t have to dig through the remains of what’s left to restore himself. This love has a foundation that’s meant to last. Quietly, he asks, “You still think I’m a dream?” “So much I almost can’t believe my eyes,” Carlos replies with a smile. “You deserve an everlasting love, Tyler,” The words are a declaration, a phrase that gives no room for argument. “I’ll always be here, wanting to be the one that gives it to you.”

come and take a walk on the wild side

It’s 4:02 a.m. and TK is standing on the balcony, smoking a cigarette. For the most part, the party has thinned out except for a couple of stragglers and those that had decided to spend the night. He holds the phone close to his ear; hearing the other line ring, once, twice, three times. He’s about the end the call before it can even start when a voice answers on the other line. “Hello?” The voice sounds groggy, and aged. TK still recognizes it all the same. TK doesn’t respond, feeling the words anxious to grab purchase. “Hello? Is anyone there?” TK doesn’t reply, and it’s not soon before the person on the other line hangs up. He brings the phone down, and whispers to himself, “Happy Father’s Day, dad.”

“I’d ask you to save the attitude for dinner, but,” Sam finally breaks eye contact, looking back down at his phone, knowing he’s about to win this back and forth between them. “We both know you’ll hold me to that.” TK hears the unspoken command: knock it off. He knows he should, just make the rest of the night easier for both of them; but there’s something in him that wants to fight against that feeling. Relieve himself of the weight that he’s holding for both of them. “Yeah? And give your dad another reason to hate everything about me?” TK decides not to think about the fact Winston brings out the worst in both of them. Sam doesn’t look up from his phone, wanting to treat TK’s response like it’s nothing but a low brow tactic. “He doesn’t hate everything about you.” TK snorts. “Oh yeah? What doesn’t he hate?” Sam looks up from his phone and stares directly at TK, giving him his undivided attention. His words drip with a scathing sense of frustration, “The way you know how to get under my skin.”

I'm a week late to this so I'm sure everyone has already gone, but if you haven't and want to share, consider this open tag for you :)