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thyme-in-a-bubble · 5 months ago

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stay for a fortnight

a/n: as promised, here is part three of the bodyguard!bucky story ৎ୭

summary: “yes, ground rules,” you sighed, forcing your eyes to rest on anything but him, “it’s just you and me here for two whole weeks, so we’ll need to come up with a plan.”

warnings: bodyguard!bucky barnes x reader, smut, reader’s mom is the british ambassador to france, age gap (10-15 years), tattooed!bucky (both a metal arm and tattoos as picked in a poll by you), beefy!bucky, forbidden romance, staying for two weeks at a chateau in the south of france, forced proximity, bucky is a shameless hoe and we love him for it, kissing, love confession, shower sex, dirty talk, manhandling, size kink, belly bulge, gaping, handjob, fingering, impact play, squirting, multiple orgasms, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, cumplay

word count: 3870

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“I’m sorry, darling. I tried to get out of it, I really did, even for just one day, but I can’t join you at the chateau this time.”

“It’s alright, mom,” you exhaled, “I understand.”

Soothingly rubbing her palm down the length of your arm, she suggested, “well, since it won’t be as crowded down there, why don’t you stay a little longer? Maybe a proper break might cheer you up. Maybe one extra week?”

“Actually, two weeks of alone time is just what I need right now,” a faint smile managed to emerge on your lips, “thank you.”

“Great! You go and pack your things, I’ll let Barnes know to do the same,” she announced, and squashed the brief relief you felt just as soon as it had washed over you.

It felt like ages that Bucky made you sit and wait in the car while he went around the estate to do his initial sweep, making sure it was safe and secure before you got to enter.

The tenseness that still floated ethereally in the air between you didn’t fade away when he finally came back to crack open the door for you to exit the vehicle.

“So,” you exhaled once the two of you had crossed the threshold of the chateau, “my room is the one upstairs and at the end of the hallway, yours is wherever the fuck you want, there are like a million bedrooms in this place.”

Your footsteps echoed against the elegantly tiled floors as you twisted to check that he even heard you. He had, seeing as his gaze was still ever glued upon you, though he didn’t offer you a reply.

Shifting the large bag that hung from your shoulder, the luggage that you stubbornly hadn’t let him carry, you paused just before your stride began to ascend the grand staircase in the middle of the foyer.

“Also, I think we should come up with some ground rules.”

Your bodyguard’s dark eyebrows then crinkled as he half scoffed, “ground rules?”

“Yes, ground rules,” you sighed, forcing your eyes to rest on anything but him, “it’s just you and me here for two whole weeks, so we’ll need to come up with a plan.”

Exhaling slowly, he simply stated, “whatever you say.”

Before you then began to drift up the wide steps, you cast a glance over your shoulder and said, “meet me in the kitchen in ten.”

“Alright,” you breathed, leaning against the cold marble of the kitchen island as you stared down at the small list you’d scribbled down on a stray post-it you had found in the bottom of your bag, slightly crumbled and with a doodle on the other side, “first rule I’d like to instate is an obvious one, but still needs to be set and stone in order for us to be here together. We can’t sleep together.”

When you heard a low sigh seep from Bucky’s lips, your eyes snapped up to glare at him.

“Hey! Take this fucking seriously, okay?”

“I am,” he assured you, though his tone indicated the complete opposite of his words.

“So, rule number two is in prolonging of the first one, which is that we can’t do anything that’ll make us want to sleep with each other,” you cast your glance back down to your messy handwriting, “two A, no swimming in the pool, two B, no nudity, two C, definitely no drinking, and two D, no staring at me,” your eyes flickered back up to catch his blue ones, “especially not like that,” you swiftly gestured to the way he gazed at you.

“Like what?” he didn’t change the manner he looked at you.

“Like you’ve seen me naked!”

Your shriek unfortunately only won you the glimpse of a smug smirk upon Bucky’s lips, one you swiftly tried to ignore.

“Okay,” you blinked in an effort to redirect your attention back to the task at hand and not the butterflies that now soared in your stomach and made you slightly dizzy, “rule number three is technically also under the subsection of number two, but we can’t eat our meals together. No candle-lit dinners, not even a snack.”

Budding in, the man on the other side of the kitchen counter then said, “can I say something?”

With a soft sigh, you mustered the courage to look up at him, “shoot.”

“Do you wanna decide what I wear as well while you're at it? Maybe also when I’m allowed to breathe?”

His jest didn’t as much as conjure a twitch at the corners of your lips as your gaze simply narrowed in his direction, “are you mocking me?”

Boldly leaning his forearms down against the tabletop, he stared back at you, “so what if I am?” though when you assumed he was kidding and you let out a groan, you heard him go on, “all I’m saying is that maybe we don’t set a list of hard rules just to avoid each other. We seem to do just fine when we toss them all out the window.”

“I'm sorry, wait, what?” you blinked.

“We’ve got two weeks here, so why don’t we make them count?” he shrugged.

Mouth agape, you dumbfoundedly stared back at him, “you’re kidding, right?”

“Do I look like I’m kidding?” calmly, his head tilted slightly as he held your stunned gaze, “just think about it.”

The sun only barely managed to set before you felt yourself crack and give in to your bodyguard’s offer.

Storming into his room, his dark brows only got the chance to rise slightly in astonishment before you nearly tackled him to the ground, throwing your arms around his bulky frame and crashing your lips against his before any of you could say even a single word.

You didn’t try to hide the raw emotions that came pouring out, causing your efforts to be rough and desperate, though it didn’t take long before Bucky’s touch mirrored the feral nature of your own, leaving you dizzy as you eventually withdrew from the starved kiss, clutching onto his shirt for support as you breathlessly ordered.

“Take off your clothes.”

Keeping your eyes closed, you tilted your head back to let the drizzle of water rinse out the shampoo from your locks.

The door to the bathroom was wide open, so when you twisted your form to face the showerhead, you didn’t notice as your faithful protector stopped in his slow tracks right on the other side of the threshold. His eyes trailed down your glistening spine till the sight of you caused him to crumble completely and take advantage of the gift that had just fallen into his lap.

A low purr vibrated within your chest as the warm water rained down upon you, though suddenly, it wasn’t just the hot shower embracing your form, as a pair of burly arms snaked their way around you. Leaning back into his bulky frame, you caught sight of a crumbled bundle of his clothes tossed on the other side of the fogged-up shower door. A blissful hum crackled within you like a roiling fire as you felt his lips begin to plant soft pecks along the line of your shoulders.

Though as his touch began to bloom and wander boldly down your frame, a gentle hiss tore through your lazy smile as his fingers came into contact and brushed over your core.

Nipping at your neck, he murmured, “oh, do you want me to stop?” not removing his metal hand, though halted the pattern he had begun to draw over your petals.

He already knew full well just how sore and swollen you still were. It would have been impossible not to be after the vigorous activities you’d kept the past week busy with.

Digging your digits into his forearms to keep you in his embrace, you shot back hazily over your shoulder, “don’t you dare,” before a whimper rippled out of you as Bucky once again rolled your puffy pearl beneath his steely touch.

“How is it that we’ve already done this for a whole week, yet it only feels like a day?” his voice tickled the shell of your ear as you leaned more of your weight back into him.

“Really? Because I don’t believe you’d be able to fuck me in a day as many times as you have this past week,” you jested through a whimper, “even for a guy with your stamina.”

“It’s a good thing it’s just the two of us here… imagine if we hadn’t been alone, if it hadn’t been me walking by and seeing you seduce me like the wicked temptress that you are?”

“I wasn’t trying to do anything of the sort,” you chuckled airily.

“Really?” he teased just as his touch did, “leaving the door open, that wasn’t on purpose?”

“No, I swear,” you then tilted your head and admitted, “at least not this time…”

“You mean the time back a month ago when didn’t close the door while taking a bath,” he murmured casually, “then called out to me, asking if I could fetch you a towel, and I had to pretend not to hear you?”

Spinning around at once, your eyebrows were nearly at your hairline as you blinked, “you knew?”

“Baby, you never had to play that hard just to torture me,” he smiled down at you, “that move was downright cruel,” before he reached for the knob and switched off the water.

A squeal bubbled out of you as Bucky then suddenly plucked you up into his arms, wasting no time before he stepped out of the shower, only pausing for a beat in the comparatively more spacious area, though only in order to manhandle you further and toss you over his shoulder before his feet began to shift once more, leaving wet prints in their wake on the cool tile as he strode towards the exit.

Strung over his shoulder as if you were a wet piece of laundry and he was the line, you giggled, “wait!” and just managed to catch one of the fluffy towels hanging on the hook he passed. Blinking down at the floor as he crossed the threshold, you watched as droplets of water dribbled down from you both and left a trail on the herringbone flooring, “you’re dripping, you’re gonna get the whole house wet!”

Landing his wide palm in a wet smack across your ass, he chuckled, “I thought that was my line, sweetheart,” teasing about the manner your pussy drooled for him, already leaking down your thighs at this point.

Soon, the long hallway disappeared from your periphery as Bucky entered the nearest of the many bedrooms, though you barely had time to register your new surroundings before the world fell out from under you and he plopped you down on the bed in the middle of the room.

Standing his ground and looming above the giggle that was your horizontal form, he stole the towel from your grasp before dragging the terrycloth across your skin. As he dried off the droplets of water that clung to your body, a handful of pecks adorned your flesh as well, often shadowing the cloth.

Gazing up at him with smile-crinkled eyes, you stretched your feet up in the air, against his torso, and rested them against his wide shoulders as he briefly paused to dry himself off as well. But as he returned to sweep the towel across the last remaining spot upon your body that still glistened from the shower, the peck he pressed to the valley between your boobs was swiftly halted as your grasp found his jaw and you guided his face up towards your own.

As you brought his lips to your own, you swiftly felt the mattress dent and ripple as he crawled up to hover above you.

“Ahh, fuck…” he then groaned against your lips as your hand snaked down between your bodies and began to stroke his throbbing girth.

Tossing the towel to the side, a gasp soon tumbled out past your lips as Bucky’s palms found your tits in a gentle squeeze. Your pebbly nipples stood up to the challenge as he swept a knuckle teasingly across one of them before capturing it in a pinch and tugging slightly to summon a sinful sound deep within your body.

As your fist slowly twisted up and down his hard length, his close proximity caused your own knuckles to brush across your clit at every heated pass. Almost unconsciously, you tilted your hips slightly and nudged the bulbous tip of him through your glistening petals, the pleasure of which caused your eyes to roll in your skull.

But just before he could take the initiative and catch your fleeting invitation to let him inside, you caught him off guard and suddenly rolled him onto his back with your frame plastered atop of him.

Propping yourself up slightly, you grasped his fat girth before slowly sinking down upon it, “o-oh my god,” couldn’t help but breathlessly tumble out of your lungs as a flat palm came down to brace on his broad chest and your thighs gently quivered at the sudden stretch of him. It was a few times that you had to pause on your slow journey down just in order to catch your breath, as his intimidating size caused you to question yet again how you’d ever been able to take it before.

“Atta girl,” his grip dug into your hips when you slowly began to move, “just like that…” though you still couldn’t persuade your pelvis to sink all the way down to meet his own.

As you found a gentle roll, one of Bucky’s palms scooped up past your waist and caught one of your tits. Your back arched slightly as he played with your boobs, his hand travelling back and forth as you rode him, though a shuttering moan rippled through your body as he landed a gentle tap down upon one of them, a shiver swiftly trickling down your spine at the spark.

But just as you thought the bodyguard beneath you was blissfully enjoying the show and letting you do all the work yourself, his hips then abruptly offered you a greedy buck.

“Bucky!” you nearly screamed as he buried the last few inches that you had so fiercely struggled to conquer on your own, “that’s–, I–, holy fuck!”

You hadn’t been able to take all of him on your own, so he just gave you the little nudge that you needed, even if that nudge thoroughly punched all of the oxygen out of your lungs, he still made you take every staggering inch.

“Come on, don’t stop now,” a chuckle escaped him at your reaction before his palm came down upon your ass to get you back to work, “make yourself cum on this cock.”

Shakily, you tried to pick up your rhythm once more, dropping your hips to meet his, though he couldn’t remain still for long before he began to fuck up into your warmth. Heavy taps echoed throughout the room as his balls slapped against your slick skin at his efforts. As he met your movements halfway and drove his cock much deeper than you could muster on your own, your left hand drifted down to strum your buzzing clit.

Already dangerously close to the edge, your hazy gaze flickered down to watch not only how your pussy magically swallowed his big dick, but your eyes also caught sight of the dull bulge that appeared in your lower abdomen, making your brain feel even more fuzzy than before. As your glance flickered back to try and catch his, you found his own stare to still be fiercely locked on the same spot where yours had just strayed from, watching intently at just how deep he went, nearly rearranging your guts just to mould you perfectly to fit his shape.

When you finally reached your peak, your cunt nearly choked his cock as your silky walls clambered down on him, a small accompaniment of sinful gush squirted around him and drizzled to soak the sheets below.

While you were still foggy with your eyes barely open, Bucky rolled you both over, his dick still throbbing deep within you. Welcoming the softness of the bed beneath you with a gentle sigh, he then captured your lips in a kiss and swallowed the whimpers that promptly bubbled up as he began to fuck you once more, offering you long, deep strokes that sank you so far into the mattress that you began to wonder if you might rock through it completely.

“O-oh, so fucking d-deep,” you blubbered. A rhythmic cry forced its way out of your lungs each and every time the tip of him kissed your cervix, nearly bullying the deepest parts of you in a manner that made you feel like the wobbliest of jellies.

“You scared I’m gonna break you, baby?” his soft lips ghosted against your cheekbone.

“I–, maybe,” you admitted, blinking up at the way his frame eclipsed your vision, “but it feels so good, I don’t care if you do,” though your confession ended up not only exclusively being about the purely physical entanglement you currently found yourselves in.

A deep growl rumbled in his chest as his hands scooped down beneath your bottom, before he let himself manhandle you, repeatedly dragging your hips up to grant him a better angle for him to fuck into. A bit of drool trickled out the corner of your mouth and found the pillow below your head when his cock soon throbbed within you, pumping you full of his hot load.

When he pulled back out of your warmth, your pussy didn’t get to stay empty for long as his cool metal fingers swiftly took his dick’s place. Plugging you full, his frame shifted slightly to grant him a good view of the leaky mess he’d made of you. As he pushed his cum deeper inside of you, scooping it back in as his fingers forced it out, he increasingly added more and more digits till the amount matched the girth that had just split you apart, before he withdrew them all at once and grinned proudly at the way he made your hole gape slightly for him, before winking back to a closed as if he’d never even tickled you before.

It didn’t take long with all of his molten motions before your pussy wept for him once more, a display he only drew out as his fingers stayed hooked inside of you while his other palm came down to offer your puffy pearl a few taps.

A hazy giggle was bubbling out of your shaky frame as his attentive touch finally faded and his kisses fluttered back up your body till your arms wrapped around him and drew him in close.

As you layed there in the plush bed and stared up at the ceiling, you didn’t know yet that the man sprawled out beside you was awake as well.

You just couldn’t find rest no matter how hard you tried, for how could you as tonight was your last night in the chateau.

Carefully, you slipped out from under the covers, grabbed your long robe from the armchair it was draped over, and tip-toed towards the wide French doors that lead out onto a balcony. Pushing the doors open, a mild gust of wind rustled the robe as you fastened the tie around your waist and crossed over the threshold.

Though you knew that you didn’t have any other choice, the thought of returning home in the morning still broke your heart. The last thing you wanted to do was burst that dreamlike bubble that you and your bodyguard had built together and go back to a world completely desaturated of colour.

Not only had you made the grave mistake of repeating history, but putting it under such an intense microscope didn’t help matters either, as well as your feelings, those having become terrifyingly clear over the past two weeks.

“Hey,” you suddenly heard the doors behind you creak and you tore your hazy gaze away from the dark gardens below to spot Bucky gently leaning against the doorframe.

“Hi,” you breathed, keeping a flat palm on the ivy-covered stone railing as you twisted your frame slightly to glance at him, “I’m sorry, did I wake you?”

“No, I was already awake,” he shrugged slightly before joining you outside in the pale moonlight, “you okay?”

“Yeah…” you sighed, casting your gaze back upon the woods blooming in the distance.

“…well, that didn’t sound very convincing,” he chuckled gently as he settled in beside you, leaning both his forearms against the half-wall, “do you wanna talk about it?”

Sucking in a breath, your eyes flickered over to catch his own, “I just–…” you hesitantly began before admitting, “I don’t wanna go back to Paris…”

“Why not?” though a crinkle found his brow, his expression still softened, “is there something going on with you and your mother?”

“No, it’s nothing like that,” you shook your head, “I just don’t wanna go home yet…” staring at him a moment longer, you then heard yourself confess, “…I–… I don’t want this to end yet…”

Watching closely as his lungs expanded with oxygen, for the first time you witnessed the gruff man look utterly and completely stunned, simply staring down at you with bated breath.

Parting your lips once more, you nearly whispered, “…I don’t wanna go back to pretending that I’m not in love with you…”

Bucky didn’t say a word, only continued to stare as he tried to comprehend the truth you’d just professed.

“I love you,” you gathered up the nerve to spit out, “I love you now… I loved you this morning… I loved you after you’d probably only worked at the embassy for a few weeks…” your vision became blurred as tears began to form in your eyes and you continued to babble, “and I don’t think those feelings are planning on changing anytime soon, so it only seemed fair for you to be aware of that for when I ask you in two seconds if you wanna keep this thing between us going, because I do, though probably for different reasons than you–, not that I don’t enjoy that part, you are an incredible lay, I just didn’t think it would be fair for you to be unaware of the feelings I've developed for you, because I don’t know how to ignore them anymore, and–, oh my god, please just say something, I feel like I arrived naked at school or something–”

But before you could ramble any further, Bucky seized your face and fiercely pressed his lips to your own. A shiver ran down your spine and nearly caused your knees to buckle as he kissed you, and when he withdrew, slowly pulling back, he found your stary gaze and uttered, “…I don’t think that’s gonna be a problem,” he then sucked in a breath before confessing, “because I–… Y/n, I love you too…”

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theballadofharkness · 3 months ago

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Whisky and Wine: Part 1

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Claire Debella X fem!reader

Summary: The last thing you expected when you came home from your publishers to your older partner Claire’s home was an invitation to her friend’s, Billionaire Miles Bron, private luxury yacht for the weekend. The problem? Claire had been very careful to keep her fellow disrupters away from you, terrified they would ruin yet another aspect of her life. But nobody says no to Miles, so you find yourself surrounded by Claire’s ‘inner circle’.

Word Count: 8.9K

A/N: As per my polls here is my long awaited Claire Debella fic! I’m aware the part 2 poll was still quite 50/50 but this will indeed by a 2-3 parter however each part could work as a stand alone fic for those who are anti multiple parts 💜🪻

Warnings: very slight smut warning so as always MDNI!

The meeting had been a disaster.

You weren’t sure how an hour-long meeting with your publishers had managed to drain every ounce of energy from your body, but as you stepped out of the conference room all you could think about was getting home. The city buzzed around you, the late afternoon sun reflecting off glass buildings, but none of it mattered. You just needed her.

By the time you reached Claire’s house- a sleek, modern place that still somehow managed to feel lived-in- you were practically vibrating with frustration. The moment you stepped inside, dropping your bag near the door, you let out a heavy sigh.

“Claire?” Your voice was quieter than usual, worn-out. You kicked off your shoes and padded further in, following the distant sound of the news murmuring in the living room.

Then you saw her.

Claire was curled up on the couch, barefoot, her reading glasses perched on the edge of her nose as she scrolled through emails on her tablet. She looked up at the sound of your voice, her expression softening the moment she saw you.

“Hey, sweetheart.” She set the tablet down, already reaching for you. “How was the meeting?”

You made a noise somewhere between a groan and a laugh, collapsing onto the couch beside her. “Exhausting. I swear, if I hear the word ‘marketability’ one more time…”

Claire hummed knowingly, shifting so you could rest your head against her shoulder. “Let me guess. They want you to be more brand-friendly? Less ‘moody writer’ and more… what, exactly?”

“Something soulless, probably.” You sighed, letting her warmth seep into you. She smelled like her usual citrus-sandalwood perfume, and as her fingers began tracing absentminded circles on your arm, the tension in your body slowly melted away.

She exhaled through her nose, something almost like a laugh but edged with irritation. “Idiots. You don’t need to change a thing baby.”

There was a beat of silence. Her fingers continued their slow, soothing movements. Then, she pressed a kiss to the top of your head, her lips lingering just a second too long. “You want me to run you a bath?” she murmured. “Or do you just want to stay like this for a while?”

You turned, tilting your head up to look at her. She was watching you with that careful, quiet concern that she never quite knew how to express in words. It made something tighten in your chest.

“This,” you said simply, curling into her. “I just want this.”

Claire let out a breath, one hand slipping into your hair, her other arm wrapping securely around you. “Then this it is,” she murmured, holding you close.

The tension in your shoulders had finally started to ease. Claire’s arms were warm around you, her fingers still tracing slow patterns against your back. The two of you sat there in silence, the sounds of the outside world muffled by the thick glass windows of her home. It was just the two of you in your own little world.

You tilted your head slightly, looking up at her. Claire had taken her reading glasses off at some point, setting them aside, and now she was watching you with that familiar, unreadable expression- half amusement, half something altogether softer.

“What?” you murmured, your voice quieter now, more settled.

She smiled, shaking her head as her hand slid up to cup your jaw. “Nothing,” she said, voice hushed. “Just thinking about how lucky I am.”

Your heart stuttered. It didn’t matter how long you had been with her- Claire always had a way of making you feel like you were the only person in the world.

Her thumb brushed over your cheek, her touch light but intentional. You barely had a moment to react before she guided your chin up and kissed you.

It was slow at first, unhurried, like she was taking her time memorizing every inch of you. Her lips were soft, warm, tasting faintly of the wine she’d been drinking earlier. You sighed into it, letting your hands rest on her waist, feeling the way she leaned into you, pulling you impossibly closer.

Then something shifted.

Maybe it was the way her fingers slid into your hair, tilting your head just so, or the quiet, contented sound she made against your lips. Either way, the kiss deepened, turned more heated, more urgent. Your fingers curled against the fabric of her shirt, needing more-

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK.

The two of you froze. Claire pulled back just slightly, blinking like she had forgotten for a moment that the rest of the world existed.

You groaned, dropping your forehead against her shoulder. “Are you serious?”

Claire exhaled, biting back a smile. “Hold that thought,” she murmured before pressing one last kiss, so quick it was almost teasing, against your lips. Then, with a reluctant sigh, she untangled herself from you and stood up.

As she made her way to the door, you leaned back into the couch, still slightly dazed from the kiss. You could hear Claire unlocking the door, her voice shifting into something a little more polished, you recognised it immediately as her politician voice.

“Yes?”

“Mrs Debella?” a male voice asked.

“Miss” she corrected exasperatedly.

“Whatever. Special delivery from Alpha Industries.”

At that, your brows knit together, the name instantly recognizable. You sat up slightly, twisting to look toward the front door.

Claire hesitated for half a second before responding. “Right. Thanks.”

You heard the rustling of a package being handed over and then the door shutting again. Claire walked back into the room, a sleek black box in her hands. It was marked with the unmistakable Alpha logo.

You gave her a look. “Miles?”

She let out a sigh, setting the package down on the coffee table. “Looks like it.”

There was something about the way she said it- carefully neutral, but you knew her too well. You had heard enough about Miles Bron and the so-called “Disruptors” to know Claire didn’t take anything from them lightly. Still, she had kept you at a distance from it all. You knew them by name, by the stories she told late at night with a drink in her hand, her voice edged with frustration or reluctant nostalgia. But you had never met them.

Because Claire hadn’t wanted you to.

Your eyes flickered between the box and Claire, whose expression had turned slightly unreadable again. Whatever was inside, you had a feeling it wasn’t just some casual gift.

“Are you going to open it?” you asked.

Claire rubbed her temple, exhaling slowly. “Yeah,” she muttered, more to herself than to you. “I guess I am.”

You sat back, watching as she rubbed a hand over her face before dropping onto the couch beside you, staring at the box like it might explode. You had seen Claire in enough high-pressure situations to know when something was actually bothering her.

“Claire.” You nudged her thigh with your knee, drawing her attention back to you. “Why does this feel like a problem?”

She hesitated, then sighed. “Because I’ve kept you separate from that part of my life for a reason,” she admitted. “And if this is what I think it is… that’s about to change.”

You swallowed, glancing at the box again.

Claire lifted the lid, her movements slower than usual, like she was bracing herself. Inside, nestled in layers of expensive black tissue paper, was an envelope- thick, pristine, sealed with a wax emblem stamped with the Alpha Industries logo.

You can’t help but roll your eyes at the unnecessary decadence. Of course it’s fucking wax-sealed. You leaned in as she cracked it open, pulling out what could only be described as the most obnoxious invitation you had ever seen. The card stock was absurdly thick, edged in real gold leaf, with deep blue calligraphy that looked handcrafted.

Claire’s name was printed at the top in bold lettering, followed immediately by yours. Your stomach did a weird little flip.

“Wait,” you said, pointing. “I’m invited?”

Claire’s body had gone very, very still.

Her eyes scanned the page again, her expression shifting from irritation to something sharper. Her mouth pressed into a thin line, and she swallowed once, like she was trying to keep herself from reacting too much.

You leaned forward, resting your elbows on your knees. “Do they… know about me?”

Claire didn’t answer right away. Instead, she set the box down on the coffee table with a little too much precision, like she needed to make sure it stayed perfectly in place.

“They know I got divorced,” she spoke carefully. “But I don’t think they know about you.”

You could see it happening in real time- her mind running through every possibility, every scenario. She never told them about you. She made sure she never told them about you.

And yet…

“So how did Miles find out?” you asked slowly.

Claire didn’t answer right away. She was still staring at the invitation, her thumb brushing absently over your name, like she was trying to make sense of it.

“I don’t know,” she finally admitted, her voice quieter now. “I never told him. I never told any of them.”

That unsettled you more than you wanted to admit. Claire had been so careful about keeping you out of that part of her life- out of the press, out of the Disruptors’ orbit. But somehow, Miles had found out. And now he was inviting you into his world.

You glanced back down at the invitation. The details were written in Miles’ usual over-the-top way:

A Long Weekend of Luxury & Intrigue

Miles Bron’s Private Yacht – The Mediterranean

An Exclusive Getaway for My Closest Friends… and Their Loved Ones.

Travel arrangements to come, please forward any dietary requirements.

You frowned, tapping the words. “Loved ones,” you muttered. “Like he’s trying to make some kind of point.”

Claire let out a humorless laugh. “That’s exactly what he’s doing.”

Your gaze flickered back to her face. “Are we going?”

Claire ran a hand through her hair, exhaling slowly. “We don’t have a choice.” Something about the way she said it sent a shiver down your spine.

The sun was high, turning the Mediterranean into a stretch of endless sapphire. The dock where you stood was private, the kind of place reserved for the ultra-rich, with sleek yachts bobbing in the water and staff dressed in crisp white uniforms.

It felt unreal- like stepping into a different world, one that wasn’t meant for you.

You adjusted the hem of your sundress, feeling the warm breeze skim over your skin. The air here was different from back home- saltier, heavier with the scent of the ocean and something expensive you couldn’t quite name.

Claire’s fingers curled around your wrist before sliding down to lace her fingers with yours.

You glanced up at her. “You okay?”

She was wearing her signature sunglasses, but you could still see the tension in her jaw, the way she kept scanning the dock as if preparing for battle.

“I’m fine,” she said, a little too quickly.

You hummed, unconvinced.

For someone who had been relatively composed about this whole trip, Claire was not composed now. You had noticed it the second you stepped out of the car- how she had kept close to you, touching you more than usual.

Not that you minded.

Her hand slid down to your hip, fingers toying with the hem of your dress as she pulled you in against her side. “You look beautiful,” she murmured, her lips brushing just behind your ear.

A shiver ran through you. “Thank you,” you murmured, tilting your head slightly as her fingers tightened against your waist.

She had been like this since you left the U.S.- clingy, possessive, like she was afraid you might slip through her fingers if she let go for even a second. Normally, Claire wasn’t big on public displays of affection, but now? Now she couldn’t seem to stop touching you. You weren’t stupid. You knew what this was.

“Claire.” You turned slightly in her hold, placing a hand against her chest. “Talk to me.”

Her jaw tensed. For a second, you thought she might deflect again, but then she sighed and slipped her sunglasses off, rubbing at her temple.

“This is just… a lot,” she admitted. “I don’t know how they’re going to react.”

You swallowed. “To me?”

“To us.” Her grip on you tightened for just a second before she exhaled, forcing herself to ease up. “I don’t want you to regret coming.”

You softened, sliding a hand up to cup her face. “I won’t.”

Claire searched your eyes, something unspoken flickering in her own. Then, with a sigh, she pressed her forehead against yours, her fingers still gripping your waist like she needed to ground herself.

“I love you,” she murmured, so quiet you almost didn’t hear it.

Your breath hitched. She had said it before- countless times, in bed, in the quiet safety of her home. But now, standing in the open, just minutes away from walking into her world, it felt different.

Like a promise.

Before you could respond, the low hum of an approaching engine made Claire stiffen.

You both turned just in time to see the yacht appearing in the distance- massive, gleaming, an undeniable symbol of Miles Bron’s excess.

Claire inhaled sharply. “Here we go.”

You laced your fingers through hers, squeezing once. “Together?”

She looked at you, exhaled, and squeezed back.

“Together.”

The yacht was getting closer, and so was the inevitable reality of this weekend. Claire hadn’t let go of you yet- her hand still resting firmly against your hip, her fingers pressing absently into the soft fabric of your dress like she needed to reassure herself that you were there.

The first taxi pulled up to the dock, the back door swinging open.

Lionel Toussaint stepped out, looking sharp even after what must have been a long flight. His suit was crisp but effortless, like he had mastered the art of looking put-together without trying too hard. He adjusted the strap of his bag over his shoulder, taking in the view before his eyes landed on Claire.

His face lit up.

“Well, well,” he said, amusement threading through his voice. “Madame Governor.”

Claire grinned. “Hey, genius.”

They met halfway, embracing briefly but warmly, and you could tell immediately that Lionel was the one Claire was closest to in this group. There was an ease between them, a familiarity that softened some of the tension humming beneath Claire’s skin.

“You good?” Lionel asked as they pulled back.

Claire let out a breath. “Yeah. You?”

He gave her a tired but knowing look. “Ask me again in 48 hours.”

Claire chuckled, shaking her head.

You waited politely beside her, fingers grazing her wrist. Lionel’s eyes flickered to you, but there was no real recognition there- just a brief, dismissive glance before he turned his attention back to Claire, already moving on. And that told you everything.

He didn’t ignore you outright. He just… didn’t register you as important enough to greet.

Claire, however, wasn’t having that.

She cleared her throat pointedly and turned slightly toward you. “Lionel, this is my partner,” she said, her voice carefully even. “Y/N.”

It took half a second too long for Lionel to react.

His brows pulled together in visible confusion, like he had misheard her. His gaze finally settled on you properly, scanning you for the first time, and you could feel him trying to make sense of it.

“Your what?”

Claire’s expression barely flickered, but you could feel her body tense beside you. “My partner,” she repeated, her tone a fraction cooler.

Lionel blinked. His brain was clearly short-circuiting as he tried to recalibrate everything he thought he knew about Claire.

“I didn’t know you liked women,” he said finally, sounding genuinely puzzled.

Your stomach twisted.

Claire let out a dry, humorless laugh. “That’s funny,” she said. “Because I don’t remember ever having to tell you who I sleep with.”

Lionel held up his hands slightly, like he hadn’t meant anything by it. “No, I just-” He exhaled, clearly still processing, before his gaze flicked back to you, then back to Claire.

“She’s, uh… she’s a little young for you, don’t you think?”

There it is.

He was still talking about you, not to you, like you weren’t standing right there, like you weren’t fully aware of the judgment bleeding into his voice.

Claire’s grip on you tightened.

You weren’t sure if it was meant to be reassuring or if she was just holding herself back from punching Lionel in the face.

Your lips parted, ready to say something, but Claire beat you to it.

“She’s an adult,” she said sharply. “And I don’t need your fucking approval, Lionel.”

Lionel sighed, running a hand over his face like this was all so exhausting for him.

“I’m just saying,” he muttered. “It’s unexpected, that’s all.”

Claire exhaled sharply, her free hand finding your wrist and running her thumb over your pulse like she was grounding herself. “Sorry to disappoint,” she said flatly.

Lionel finally—finally—looked at you again, his expression unreadable.

“So… what do you do for work?” he asked, his tone more polite than interested.

“I’m a writer.” You finally spoke up, not particularly moved to go into your whole history for a man that was clearly disinterested.

He nodded back, like that was enough information, then turned to Claire again. “You bringing her on the yacht, then?”

Claire didn’t answer right away. You could feel the tension in her shoulders, the way she was fighting the urge to snap at him. But she just plastered on a tight smile.

“Looks like it.”

Lionel just hummed in response, glancing back toward the water as if this conversation was already over.

You felt Claire’s fingers tighten around yours, the silent message clear: Ignore him.

But something told you this trip was going to be a lot longer than you thought.

Lionel had already shifted into work mode, scrolling through his phone, agreeing with Claire in earnest as she muttered something under her breath about ‘Miles and his goddamn theatrics.’

You were still standing close to her, fingers laced with hers, trying to shake off the weirdness of Lionel’s reaction when another car pulled up to the dock.

It wasn’t subtle.

A gleaming white luxury SUV rolled to a stop, music blaring from the inside. The door swung open, and before you even saw her, you heard her.

“Oh my GOD! this heat? I’m obsessed!”

Birdie Jay stepped out in a billowing, brightly colored designer cover-up, her sunglasses comically oversized, her hair perfectly styled despite her dramatic complaints about the weather. Behind her, Peg struggled to haul out an impossible number of designer suitcases, her expression already exhausted.

“Claire! Lionel!” Birdie practically shrieked as she spotted them, arms flinging open in excitement.

Claire barely had time to react before Birdie was on her, pulling her into a hug that was somehow both enthusiastic and completely self-serving.

“Oh my god, I haven’t seen you in forever!” Birdie gushed, stepping back to hold Claire at arm’s length. “You look so good, babe- tell me, did you get a little lift?”

Claire’s smile was tight. “No, Birdie.”

“Well, whatever you’re doing, keep doing it.” Birdie winked before turning to Lionel, throwing her arms around him with just as much energy. “And you, genius boy, looking all serious as usual.”

Lionel barely managed a chuckle before Birdie released him, finally noticing you.

Her sunglasses slid down her nose as she openly stared.

“Wait.” She pointed dramatically. “Stranger danger. Who is this?”

Claire’s grip on you tightened immediately, her body shifting slightly in front of yours like some kind of shield.

“Birdie,” she said, voice edged with warning. “Stop it.”

Birdie gasped, pressing a manicured hand to her chest. “Oh my god, did I say something wrong?”

Claire exhaled sharply. “She’s my partner.”

Birdie blinked. “Your what?”

Claire’s patience was hanging on by a thread. “My girlfriend, Bird.”

Birdie let out a delighted squeal, clapping her hands together. “Shut up! Oh my god, Claire, you’re into girls? Since when? Well you did always dress in a lot of masculine beige outfits… oh my god did you have a crush on me?”

Peg, still lugging suitcases out of the SUV, muttered, “Oh my god, Birdie, please.”

Claire’s shoulders tensed, but you could see the way she was bracing for Birdie’s next thoughtless comment.

Birdie’s eyes flicked between you and Claire, her head tilting. “Wait, hold on, isn’t she, like-” She squinted at you. “- a baby?”

You stiffened slightly. Claire, on the other hand, visibly clenched her jaw.

“She’s an adult, Birdie,” she said, tone clipped.

Birdie just grinned, completely oblivious. “I love this new era for you Claire.” She leaned in closer,, “I mean, go off, queen- find yourself a little hot young thing-”

Claire groaned, rubbing a hand over her face.

Peg, clearly at her limit, slammed the car trunk shut and turned to Birdie with the deadest expression imaginable. “Can we please just get on the boat?”

Birdie waved a dismissive hand. “Yes, yes, I’m going.” She turned back to you, flashing a megawatt smile. “Well, welcome to the shitshow, babe!”

And with that, she strutted toward the dock, leaving you standing there, still processing whatever the hell just happened.

Claire let out a slow, deep breath.

“I told you,” she muttered, rubbing your back as if that could somehow erase the past five minutes.

The air was already thick with tension from Birdie’s arrival, but then the roar of an approaching engine shattered the relative calm.

You turned just in time to see a massive, gleaming black motorcycle pulling up to the dock, kicking up dust and salt air as it skidded to a dramatic stop.

And then, of course, the gunfire. Two deafening BANG! BANG! shots into the sky. You nearly jumped out of your skin.

“Jesus fuck,” Claire muttered under her breath, while Lionel just pinched the bridge of his nose.

Duke Cody swung one massive leg off the bike, holstering his pistol like this was just another Tuesday. His biceps strained against his tactical vest, the mirrored sunglasses doing nothing to hide his shit-eating grin.

Right behind him, Whisky dismounted, long legs swinging off the bike as she pulled off her helmet, shaking out her perfect blonde waves like she was in a goddamn commercial.

“Hell yeah, baby!” Duke whooped, spreading his arms wide as he approached the group. “Who’s ready to party?”

Birdie, of course, squealed and sprinted straight into his arms.

“Duuuuuuke!” she shrieked as he lifted her clean off the ground.

“Birdie, my girl!” Duke spun her once before setting her down, slapping Lionel on the back next. “My man! How we doin’?”

Lionel sighed but accepted the hug. “Duke.”

Then Duke turned to Claire, grinning as he pulled her in for an aggressively firm hug.

“Claire! How’s politics? Bunch of bullshit, huh?”

Claire grimaced as she pulled away. “As always.”

Duke let out a booming laugh before his gaze finally landed on you.

He frowned slightly, sunglasses tilting down as he gave you a once-over. “Wait a minute- who’s this? You tight with Miles?”

Claire’s spine snapped straight. “She’s my partner,” she said before you could even open your mouth.

Duke’s eyebrows shot up before his face split into a wide, very male grin. “Ohhhh,” he drawled. “Girl on girl, huh? Sounds hot.”

You physically cringed. Claire, on the other hand, made a sound so close to an actual growl that Lionel had to clear his throat.

“Duke, no,” Peg muttered from somewhere behind her stack of luggage.

“Duke. Stop.” Claire snapped, glaring at Duke like she was two seconds from punching him.

Duke, completely unbothered, just chuckled. “Hey, I call ‘em like I see ‘em.”

Before Claire could actually strangle him, Whisky finally approached, sliding past Duke and straight toward you.

“Oh my god,” she said, all breathy excitement, her arms already opening. “It’s so good to meet you.”

And then, suddenly, you were being hugged.

You blinked, startled but not opposed, as Whisky wrapped you up in genuine warmth. She smelled like vanilla and sunscreen, her long, tanned arms squeezing you tightly before pulling back with an easy, dazzling smile.

“You’re, like, the only other person here who gets it,” she said under her breath , gripping your shoulders. “This group is insane, but don’t worry, babe- I got you.”

You blinked again. “Oh. Uh- thank you?”

Claire, meanwhile, was staring at Whisky like she had just committed a crime. You felt the exact moment her arm snaked around your waist, her grip firm, possessive.

Whisky, oblivious, just beamed at you. “We’re gonna stick together, okay?”

Claire’s fingers dug into your side. “Actually,” she cut in, her voice way too even, “she’ll be sticking with me.”

Whisky finally seemed to notice the tension and raised her perfectly arched brows, glancing between you and Claire.

“Oh,” she said, smirking slightly. “I see how it is.”

You didn't miss the way Claire’s hold on you tightened, like she thought Whisky might actually steal you right in front of her.

Duke, meanwhile, clapped his hands together, completely unaware of the subtle war happening in front of him. “Alright, enough chit-chat- where’s this big-ass boat?”

Claire exhaled sharply, but her grip on you didn’t loosen. Yeah this was gonna be a long weekend.

The yacht finally docked, looming ahead of you, sleek and impossibly expensive, rocking slightly in the clear blue waters of the Mediterranean. A crew of staff was already waiting on deck, dressed in crisp white uniforms, making last-minute preparations as the boat docked.

Miles Bron finally appeared, stepping onto the upper deck like a king surveying his kingdom. Arms wide, sunglasses reflecting the sun, dressed in linen like he had personally invented wealth.

“My closest friends!” he boomed, his voice carrying over the dock. “My fellow Disruptors!”

Claire exhaled so hard you felt it.

Miles grinned, throwing his arms open like he expected the group to cheer for him.

“I’m so glad you all could make it,” he continued, gesturing grandly at the yacht behind him. “This weekend is gonna be legendary. We’re talking relaxation, revelation, innovation-”

Lionel sighed. “Can we just get on the boat?”

Miles laughed, pointing at him. “That’s my guy! Always straight to business.”

Claire muttered under her breath, “Oh my god, I can’t do this.”

You squeezed her hand. “Too late now.”

One by one, the group greeted him, stepping onto the yacht like they were walking onto the red carpet.

Birdie was all over him immediately, throwing her arms around his neck. “Miles, darling! I’ve missed you!”

Miles chuckled, squeezing her tight. “Birdie Jay, my shining star!”

Behind her, Peg staggered forward, hauling an ungodly amount of luggage up the gangway, struggling as she tried to keep up.

Claire leaned toward you. “Should we…?”

You glanced at Peg, whose face was bright red from exertion, and whispered back, “She’s gotta learn to leave Birdie.”

Claire let out a quiet huff of laughter.

Duke approached next, gripping Miles in one of those firm, testosterone-heavy handshakes before pulling him into a half-hug. “My man, look at you. Alpha as fuck.”

Miles lapped it up, grinning. “Duke, my brother, always bringing that energy.”

Then…Whisky.

You expected her to greet him like the others, but instead, she melted into his arms. And lingered. Her arms looped around his neck, and Miles held her just a little too close, his hand pressed way too low on her back.

Claire stiffened beside you. Your eyes met hers, both of you sharing suspicious looks. Whisky finally pulled back, giving Miles a dazzling smile before stepping onto the boat. Miles smoothed a hand down his shirt, still grinning like a man who was absolutely getting laid that night.

Claire’s grip on your waist tightened. “Fucking figures.”

Finally, it was your turn.

Miles’ gaze slid over to you, his sunglasses lowering slightly as his lips curled into that infuriatingly smug grin.

“And who do we have here?” he asked, voice smooth, curious.

You blinked. “Uh… you put my name on the invitation?”

For a split second, his expression flickered- just the faintest tell that, yeah, he absolutely knew that. But then it was gone, replaced by an easy chuckle as he spread his hands like it had just slipped his mind.

“Of course! Of course,” he said, nodding. “Just had to put a face to the name.”

Bullshit.

You knew it. He knew it.

And judging by the way Claire’s body tensed beside you, *she* definitely knew it, too. Before you could say anything else, Claire’s grip on you tightened.

“She’s mine, Miles,” she said- sharp, firm, final. Not my partner. Not we’re together. Just mine.

Miles raised his hands in mock surrender, the smirk never leaving his face. “Hey, love that for you, Claire.”

Claire didn’t move. Didn’t let go. Didn’t break her glare. You felt the way her fingers curled against your waist, the unspoken weight in her hold. It wasn’t just about you anymore. She’d just watched Whisky drape herself all over him. She’d just clocked the dynamic shift, the tension, the fact that Duke’s girlfriend had just hugged Miles like she belonged to him. And now Miles was looking at you with that same assessing energy.

Yeah. Not happening.

Without another word, Claire pulled you past him, her grip solid, grounding. As you stepped onto the yacht, you caught the tail end of Miles’ quiet chuckle behind you. Yeah you should have dragged Claire off the boat when you had the chance.

It was evident that Miles loved the sound of his own voice.

The second everyone was settled on deck, he launched straight into his grand welcome speech, pacing in front of the group like he was unveiling the next great innovation that would change the world.

“It is so good to have my inner circle here,” he began, grinning wide as he spread his arms, his linen shirt billowing like he was about to ascend. “This weekend is gonna be legendary. A weekend of ideas. Of disruption. Of pure creativity.”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. Claire, standing stiffly beside you, just exhaled slowly through her nose.

Miles clapped his hands together. “Now, I’ve personally curated this experience for each of you,” he continued, smirking. “Every detail, every moment, it’s perfection. And that includes where you’ll be staying.” He gestured dramatically, and one of the staff members stepped forward, holding a sleek silver tray. On it were a set of thin, futuristic-looking wristbands.

“Each of you will be staying in luxury,” Miles said, plucking a band off the tray. “Your rooms are assigned- and these?” He held up the wristband between two fingers. “These are your keys. Custom-made. High-tech. Just tap in, and boom- your room knows you.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Claire muttered under her breath.

Miles shot her a wink like she’d just complimented him. One by one, the group took their wristbands- Duke inspecting his like it was a weapon, Birdie gasping about how tech-y it was, Whisky cooing as Miles personally strapped hers on (suspicious), Peg looking like she wanted to throw hers into the ocean.

When you and Claire got yours, she barely acknowledged it- just grabbed your hand and dragged you toward the room assignments before Miles could get any more insufferable.

The second you stepped inside your room, the door sliding shut behind you, Claire pounced.

Her lips crashed into yours, her hands gripping at your hips, your waist, your arms- everywhere, like she was grounding herself in your presence.

You barely had time to gasp before she was pressing you back against the door, fingers curling into the fabric of your dress.

“Baby,” she breathed, her voice desperate, almost pleading. “You’re mine, aren’t you?” Her lips dragged over your jaw, your throat. “You’re just mine, yeah?”

Your heart stuttered. You’d never seen her like this. Needy. Desperate. You knew what this was. You’d felt her tension building all day- when Lionel barely acknowledged you, when Birdie treated you like a novelty, when Duke made it gross, when Whisky hugged you, when Miles looked at you. And most of all- when she realised that Miles had obviously been fucking Whisky behind Duke’s back.

Claire had clocked it instantly. And if Miles was willing to do that to Duke then all bets were off. She’d seen the way he looked at you. How he pretended not to know you. Like you were just another piece on the board for him to play with. And now? She was holding onto you like she thought you might slip away, too.

You cupped her face, guiding her back to your lips. “I’m yours,” you murmured, brushing your mouth against hers. “Just yours.”

She made a sound somewhere between a gasp and a moan and kissed you harder. Her hands were shaking as they gripped your waist, sliding over your hips like she needed more, needed to prove something to herself. And god, you were more than willing to let her.

But then…

Ding.

A notification popped up on the sleek, futuristic screen by the bed. Miles’ voice crackled over the speakers:

“Dinner in an hour, Disruptors! Be ready for anything.”

Claire froze. Her forehead pressed to yours, her breath still heavy, her fingers still clinging to your dress.

“I fucking hate him.”

You laughed. “I know.”

She groaned, pressing her lips to your forehead before stepping back. “Come on, baby. Let’s get this over with.”

But the second you turned to grab your bag, she smacked your ass. Hard.

You gasped, whipping around, and she just grinned. “Just reminding you,” she murmured, voice low, teasing. “You’re mine.”

Yeah. This weekend was gonna be dangerous.

The shower had been quiet, save for the sound of water cascading down the glass, the gentle rhythm of your body moving with Claire’s as she helped you rinse the shampoo from your hair. It was one of those moments where everything felt soft, almost like time had slowed down just for you two. You were both getting ready for dinner, the tension of the day still clinging to you, but now it was tempered by the closeness- the warmth of her skin against yours, her lips pressing light kisses to the back of your neck as you dried off.

Claire had been all over you in the shower, but as you both dressed, she seemed to get quieter, her hands brushing over your body with a purpose you couldn’t quite place. You were dressed in a short, fitted black dress that showcased your figure- simple but undeniably flattering, you could tell Claire approved by the way her gaze lingered on you a little too long.

“You look beautiful,” she murmured as she pulled you back into her arms. Her lips on your neck, hands grabbing your waist, pulling you into her.

“I don’t want to let you go,” she whispered against your skin. “But we have to. They’ll be waiting.”

You chuckled. “You’re hot and bothered again already?” You teased softly.

She gave you a quick, teasing bite to your neck. “That doesn’t even begin to cover it, baby.”

You turned in her arms to face her, resting your hands on her chest. You could see the battle inside her- her breath still shallow, her body still tightly wound as she fought the impulse to drag you into the bed again. But she just smiled at you instead, her lips soft and sweet as she kissed you once more.

When you finally pulled away, you caught her gaze, soft but with an undeniable possessive edge. “I’m yours. All yours.this trip won’t change that” You smiled against her lips, feeling the warmth of her body, the need in her touch.

“Ready for dinner?”

You nodded, letting her pull you out of the room and into the hallway.

The sight of the yacht’s wide-open deck was breathtaking- the Mediterranean air cool, the distant sound of waves lapping against the hull. The deck was alive with conversation when you arrived- everyone mingling, glasses in hand, as the sun set over the horizon, casting a golden glow over the yacht. Miles was standing center stage, naturally, as if he were the star of some kind of farcical play. He exuded that patented mix of “down-to-earth billionaire” bullshit and self-importance.

When he saw you and Claire, his smile grew wider, and he made a show of waving you over with open arms. “Ah, the perfect pair! So glad you could join us,” he said, grinning.

He handed each of the guests a glass of their preferred drink- Lionel’s rum, Birdie’s cocktail, Duke’s whiskey, and, of course, Peg’s... discount beer in a red solo cup, before turning to Claire with a flourish.

“Claire bear, for you- room temperature Pinot Grigio, as you like it.”

Claire barely looked at him, already focused on going to speak to Lionel as she took the glass. She moved away from Miles, leaving you standing beside him, and that’s when he pounced.

Miles tilted his head at you, still smiling. “What’ll it be, beautiful? Pick your poison- our mixologist can whip up whatever you want.”

You tilted your head slightly. “I don’t really drink.”

“Ah,” he hummed, dragging the moment out, like he was waiting for you to explain yourself. You didn’t.

Instead, you caught Claire’s eye from across the deck, and she was already looking at you, brows just slightly furrowed, her grip tightening around her wine glass.

Before she could step back toward you, a loud voice cut through-

“Hey where’s your drink?”

Duke. You barely had time to react before he was beside you, all bravado and ego, Whisky trailing just behind. His sunglasses were still on despite the dimming light, and his arms flexed as he gestured to your empty hands.

“She’s not drinking,” Claire interjected, her voice clipped.

Duke barely acknowledged her, already reaching for one of the drinks they’d brought over. Miles opened his mouth like he was about to say something, some smug little comment about your earlier refusal.

And you weren’t about to let him.

“Fuck it,” you muttered under your breath, then louder, “I’ll take what you’re having, if you’re offering.”

Duke’s grin spread, wide and pleased. He clapped a heavy hand on your shoulder like you’d earned something. You lurched forward at the sheer force of it.

“That’s the spirit! Good girl- I’m loving this energy!”

Whisky passed you a drink- something dark, strong-smelling, condensation beading down the glass. Claire stiffened beside you. You lifted the glass to your lips, taking a long, slow sip- never breaking eye contact with Miles. The burn hit your throat instantly, sharp and biting, but you kept your expression neutral. Miles just watched you, unreadable for a fraction of a second- then smirked.

Dinner was exactly as unbearable as you thought it would be. The long, immaculately set table stretched out across the open-air deck, the Mediterranean breeze sweeping through candle flames and ruffling the edges of cloth napkins. The food was extravagant, the wine endlessly poured, and the conversation? Absolutely insufferable.

You had been drinking steadily just to survive it. At first, it was just to take the edge off- the way Miles sat at the head of the table like some kind of tech god, the way Whisky leaned in close to him, practically coiled around him, the way everyone here seemed to just accept it, like it was normal.

Then Birdie started talking.

"Peg, hand me my phone," she said, reaching across the table like she expected it to materialize in her hand.

Peg, visibly exhausted, didn’t even look up from her plate. "No."

Birdie blinked, affronted. "What?"

"You promised. No phone. Not until the end of the media cycle."

Birdie groaned, throwing her head back. "Oh my god, are we still on that? I apologized! I explained!"

Claire exhaled sharply, already rubbing at her temples. Lionel was gripping the bridge of his nose. Duke, as expected, was no help at all.

"People are just so sensitive these days," he muttered, shaking his head. "So woke. You know Kimmel said I hated boobs?”

Birdie lit up like he had just cracked some kind of universal truth. "YES! Exactly! That's what I keep saying! I'm a truth teller! I say it like I see it, and people can't handle it!"

Claire and Lionel exchanged a look. A very long, very exhausted look.

And that was when you- who had, by this point, abandoned all forms of self-restraint- snorted. Loudly. Everyone turned toward you. "Bullshit," you muttered, swirling the last of your drink in your glass.

Birdie’s mouth actually dropped open. "Excuse me?" She blinked at you, eyes wide, before laughing like she had misheard you. "Sweetie, I have Gucci handbags older than you."

You rolled your eyes, setting your glass down with a sharp clink. "Don't you think you're mistaking ‘truth telling’ with just speaking without thought?"

The table froze. Even Peg, who should be on your side, looked vaguely alarmed.

"What you're doing is dangerous," you went on, voice a little too loud, a little too loose from the alcohol. "You say shit without thinking, and people listen to you. That’s not truth telling, Birdie. It’s just-”

Birdie grinned, leaning in. "Oh, so you think I'm dangerous, huh?"

You scoffed, already reaching for your glass again. "It’s not a compliment. It’s stupi-"

"Okay," Claire cut in, her voice forcibly light but you could feel the steel grip of her hand on your thigh. "You’ve had too much to drink. Let’s get you back to the room."

You turned to her, blinking. "I’m fine-"

"You’re done," she said, already pulling you to stand, already steering you away from the table.

The conversation picked up again as you left, but you still felt Birdie’s eyes on your back. And Miles? Miles was smirking.

The door slammed behind you, the sound echoing through the sleek, modern bedroom. The second Claire turned to face you, hands already on her hips, you exploded.

"What the fuck, Claire?!"

She looked just as furious as you felt, stepping forward, eyes flashing. "No, what the fuck was that?"

You let out a sharp, humorless laugh. "Me? You’re friends with a woman who compared herself to Harriet Tubman and I’M the one embarrassing you?! Have you seen Duke’s streams?!"

Claire pinched the bridge of her nose, exhaling sharply. "Yes, I know exactly what they’re like, but they are my very old friends, and you cannot just-”

"Oh, so when it’s you marking me up and making me tell you how I belong to you, that’s fine, but the second it’s me versus your shithead friends, suddenly I’m dragged back here like a fucking child?"

Claire’s jaw clenched.

"Fuck off then," you muttered, turning away.

A beat.

Then, Claire was on you. Not gentle, not soft- commanding. A sharp grip on your chin, tilting your head up, her voice a low, controlled warning. "You don’t talk to me like that."

You froze. Claire’s face was so close to yours, her grip firm but careful, her breath warm against your lips. "You’re drunk," she said, voice steady. "Go to bed."

Your stomach twisted. "Claire-"

"I’m going back to the group."

Your heart dropped. "You’re leaving?"

"Yes." Her voice wasn’t cruel, but it was final.

You stared at her, something deep and ugly twisting inside you. "Why?"

Claire exhaled slowly, rubbing a hand down her face. When she finally met your gaze again, she looked tired.

"Listen," she said, softer now. "I can’t stand Miles. But he’s the one paying for my entire electoral campaign. You can’t just piss him off."

The words landed like a slap. Claire watched the way your expression shifted- how your chest rose and fell, how your mouth pressed into a thin line. You swallowed, your throat dry.

"Right," you muttered.

Claire sighed, reaching for you, but you stepped back.

"Go," you said, voice quiet.

She hesitated. But then, without another word, she turned and left. And for the first time since stepping foot on this yacht, you felt completely alone.

You woke up feeling like shit.

Your mouth was dry, your head was pounding, and your stomach churned with the unmistakable nausea of a hangover. The Mediterranean sun poured in through the open balcony doors, searing hot against your eyelids, and the cool sheets beneath you did nothing to soothe the ache in your skull.

The thin sheet barely covered you. You weren’t even sure if you’d bothered to get ready for bed the night before, but judging by the state of you- naked, woozy, with your dress crumpled up in the corner of the room- you assumed you hadn’t. Your stomach turned as the memories filtered in, sluggish and blurry- Miles, the drinks, the fight with Claire, the way she left you last night, drunk and fuming in this big, stupid, obscenely expensive bedroom. You groaned, pressing your face into the pillow. Claire’s warm, soft body was already curled around yours.

"Good morning, baby," she murmured against your shoulder, voice thick with sleep as her lips trailed down your bare skin.

You pulled the sheet up higher over your bare breasts, burrowing deeper into the pillows. "I’m dying," you croaked.

"Yeah," Claire sighed, nosing into your hair. "You did drink a lot."

You cracked one eye open just to glare at her. "Thanks for the insight Governor."

Claire just smiled, tilting your chin slightly so she could kiss the corner of your mouth. "C’mon," she murmured, her fingers tracing over your waist, nose nuzzling into your hair. "Baby," she coaxed, her voice dipping lower, her hand smoothing over your stomach. "Let me make it up to you."

You groaned again, rolling onto your back, your body betraying you as her hands roamed lower. "No." You made a noise, half groan, half protest, and shifted away from her mouth.

Claire chuckled, completely unfazed, her arms tightening around your waist. "No?"

"Still mad," you mumbled, voice thick with sleep and dehydration.

Claire exhaled a soft, amused laugh, shifting so she was pressed even closer. "Still mad," she repeated, pressing slow, deliberate kisses along your jaw. "Baby..."

You didn’t react.

Claire huffed, pressing her nose into your hair, her hand slipping lower, tracing lightly over your bare stomach. "Baby," she repeated, her voice dropping into that low, coaxing register that always made your spine tingle. "C’mon. Mommy’s sorry. Don’t be mad."

You huffed, pulling the sheet high over your head.

Claire didn't like that. With an amused hum, she slipped beneath the covers with you, her breath warm against your neck, her lips finding your jaw this time, soft and lingering. "There she is," she murmured, voice honeyed. "Thought I lost you under there."

You pushed at her arm weakly. "Claire."

"What?" she asked innocently, though her hand was already inching lower, fingers ghosting over the dip of your waist. "I’m just waking my baby girl up."

"You left me," you muttered, voice quieter now, but still laced with irritation.

Claire sighed again- this time, more genuine. She kissed your temple, her lips lingering, before murmuring, "I know."

You swallowed, staring at the ceiling, heart still heavy in your chest. "You left."

A pause. Then, softer: "I know, baby. Her voice had that gentle edge to it, like she was really feeling it now- the weight of the fight, the things she’d said, the way she walked away.

"You chose them," you mumbled into the pillow.

Claire exhaled sharply, shifting so she could prop herself up on one elbow. "It wasn’t like that."

You snorted. "Oh, wasn’t it? You dragged me away like some unruly child, Claire."

She ran a hand through her hair, exasperated. "I was trying to keep the peace. You don’t know how complicated it is-"

"I don’t know?" You twisted to face her, your head still throbbing, but the rage from last night was creeping back in. "You think I don’t know what it’s like to deal with entitled narcissists who think they’re the smartest people in the room? I write about people like Miles for a living."

Claire sighed, fingers pressing into her temple. "I know it wasn’t fair to you."

You rolled onto your back, throwing an arm over your eyes. "No, it wasn’t."

A beat of silence. "I’m sorry."

You turned your head just slightly, peeking at her from under your arm. "You should be."

Then she shifted, her leg slotting between yours, her lips trailing lower.

"Claire," you warned.

"Mmm?" Her teeth grazed the edge of your jaw, her grip on your waist tightening.

"You don’t get to leave me and then fuck me," you snapped, waving a weak hand toward her.

Claire smirked, completely unapologetic, fingers dancing higher up your thigh. "No?"

You glared at her, but you were still so hungover, and she was so warm and soft and-

"Baby," she murmured, pressing a kiss right below your ear. "Let me make it up to you."

You wanted to stay mad.

You really did.

But then she was kissing your neck, slow and deliberate, her hand gripping your thigh just right to make your hips can’t against the muscle of her leg, her voice all low and sweet and devoted, like she would spend the whole day proving how sorry she was if you just let her. Your heart ached a little. You were still mad. But you also still loved her.

“Please” you breathed shakily, hips rocking steadily now. “I love you”

“I love you babygirl” Claire cooed.

Then… Miles’ voice crackled over the speakers:

“Disruptors! Breakfast is prepared! Make your way to the deck.”

“Oh come ON”

Taglist: @harknessshi @agathascoven1 @notorious-vick @jessica-mcd @sapphicfleur @lisqueen @starryjeongyeon @brekker157 @maximilfism @meghina18 @onlybynightandonlybysea @buttercandy16 @milflovers4 @rigglemethat @mistyshane30 @certified-sleep-deprived @agathaallalongg @yun4-st4rx @psychickryptonitebouquet

#kathryn hahn #kathryn hahn x reader #agatha harkness x fem!reader #agatha harkness x reader #claire debella #claire debella x reader #glass onion #glass onion knives out #Kathryn Hahn x gem!reader

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certifiedyapperx · 1 year ago

Text

Captain John Price • broken.

PAIRING: John Price x Fem!Reader

SUMMARY: the result of my poll. in short, you tell your captain that the reason you’ve only dated one man is because your ex said you were broken due to your inability to orgasm; and price offers to show you that the only thing broken was your confidence.

WORD COUNT: 5.3k (got carried away.)

TAGS: 18+, PURE FILTHY SMUT MDNI, Slight Degradation, Praise, Multiple Orgasm, PIV, Semi-Public Sex, Dirty Talk, Absurd amount of swearing, Fingering, Price being daddy as fuck.

"What about that ex girlfriend of yours, Gaz?"

As soon as those words left the Scottish lads lips, everyone in the room was giggling like a lot of fucking schoolgirls. You'd be lying if you said that didn't include yourself.

"You want to talk about ex girlfriends now, Soap?" Gaz sat forward in his chair, eyeing his grinning teammate from across the room, the grip on his glass so tight you were worried it'd shatter between his fingers. "What about that woman you boned in Prague? The one that wanted, oh--how do I say it...a little ride on train 141."

"Nuthin' little about that train." Ghost added through a choked chuckle, barely able to get the words out.

Your fucking abdomen was starting to get sore from the amount of laughing you'd done tonight. These men were absolutely ridiculous. You'd never heard more obscene sex stories in your damn life, and they've got a bloody abundance of them--the back and fourth taunting over who fucked who and who did what never seemed to end. It was almost three in the morning and they were still going strong.

"Aye," Soap leaned back in his chair, bringing his glass up to his lips and taking a slow sip, wide eyes gleaming as he reminisced. "Fuckn' wild one, that one. Had her nice and tamed for me by the end of that deployment.”

"Aye, the fucking woman whisperer, this one," Ghost chimed in again, his balaclava half pulled up, exposing his stubble-donned chin and grinning lips as he took a hefty swig of bourbon. Not even fazed. "Almost as smooth as Price."

Everyone in the room chuckled, nodding and muttering words of agreement, but you were stuck in place--still absentmindedly staring at Ghost while turning the words over in your mind, curiosity piqued.

"Price?" His name left your lips before you could even attempt to prevent it.

All eyes in the room shifted toward you, and Gaz cocked an eyebrow. "You've never heard any of his stories?"

Ghost shot him a look. "Clearly not."

"I mean, I've heard some..." you mumbled, awkwardly trying to fix the mess you've just made. Your gaze darted between the three men staring at you, each set of eyes glazed with confusion, clearly trying to figure out why you were so taken aback. "Captain is far more secretive than the rest of you."

You'd been on the team for a solid eight months. Since recruitment, you'd worked alongside Price every single fucking day, yet the man hardly ever spoke about his personal life.

Unlike the others, who seemed to never stop.

"Around you, yeah." Soap mumbled with a smirk, shooting a knowing glance toward Gaz who instantly returned it.

Your brows knit in confusion. "Around me?"

"Aye." Ghost replied for Soap, and you were practically sitting on the edge of your goddamn seat as you knew he wasn't finished. He shifted lower in his chair as his eyes traced up and down your form. "You're new. You're hot. You've never spoken a word about your own personal life. The man's a bloody nutcase, but he hides it well when he needs to--he probably doesn't want to scare you off."

"Scare me off?" You had to fight to keep your jaw off the floor. Trying to mask your confusion, you cleared your throat. "What's that supposed to mean?"

At your reaction, everyone chuckled again, and your face immediately flushed with blood--shading you the same crimson colour found on a ripe fucking tomato. If there was some joke happening here, it'd clearly flown way above your radar.

And yet, before you or anyone else could even consider speaking again, the man of the hour appeared in the doorway, and you nearly fell out of your chair.

"Valid question." He didn't even acknowledge you as he spoke, eyes fixed on Ghost as he took a step into the room.

Gods, he was fucking attractive—every molecule in your being screamed at the sight of him. You'd done everything you could to ignore that fact for the entirety of your time here, ensuring your focus was trained on keeping things professional--but after two glasses of whiskey and the current topic of conversation, the flood gates were wide fucking open.

"Go on, Ghost," his voice was low, deep as the depths of your desire as his ocean eyes slowly danced around the room. "...I'd like to know the answer as well."

Price took a seat across from you, slouching slightly and nodding toward Soap who promptly poured him a glass of burning brown liquid and slid it across the table. Ghost pulled down his balaclava in attempt to hide his cheeky fucking grin, shrugging as though he had no idea what his Captain was on about.

"Not sure what you mean, Cap." Ghost quipped, and you could practically hear the beaming delight in his words. "We're just talking."

"Hm," Price side-eyed him, humoured. "You always talk about me?"

"Only when you're not around." Soap chimed in, snuffing a groan in his throat as he'd downed the rest of his drink and stood up, shooting an inebriated nod to each of you. "Well, would you look at the time--I'm gonna' hit the sack. Duty calls, y'know."

Your stomach churned with confusion, your eyes glued to the Scottish bloke who decided it was convenient to make his exit the exact moment Price entered the room. You almost wanted to reach over and yank him back into his seat.

"Keep it classy ya filthy bastards."

He shot you a cheeky wink from beyond the door frame before disappearing into the abyss, only for Gaz and Ghost to rise from their seats as well, seemingly following Soap's lead, muttering excuses about how late it was and how exhausted they were.

Your mind raced at lightning speed, trying to make sense of the sudden exodus. You were going to kill those fuckers in the morning.

Price broke the silence before it had the chance to linger for too long. "It's not personal, you know."

Your heart slammed your sternum. You sucked in a breath and trapped it there. You needed to calm the fuck down--though that seemed like a goddamn impossible task at the moment. Prices' voice was the hypnotizing depth of a black hole. It stirred every last atom within you.

Avoiding his eyes, you straightened in your seat, clearing your throat. "I know."

"Do you?" He cocked an eyebrow, two fingertips tracing the rim of his glass. "I'm not so sure."

You looked up now--almost immediately regretting it as your eyes caught his. You forced words out of your mouth before you could acknowledge how the way he was looking at you made you feel.

"It's because I haven’t opened up to you..." you murmured. "Yeah?"

Price nodded, choosing to remain silent, his gaze anchoring you to the floor—every muscle stiff as stone.

You cleared your throat again. "Well. What do you want to know? My family? Where I grew up-"

"No." He cut you off, leaning forward, elbows resting on the table as his stare intensified. "...I already know all that. You're my recruit, I know everything about your past..." his head tilted, his eyes narrowed, and he pushed his glass to the side, clasping his hands together infront of him. "What I don't know, is why a woman as skilled, as smart, and as undeniably attractive as you, has only ever been with one man."

Blood crystallized in your veins, every ounce of your skin vibrating with an emotion you couldn't identify. He was so close—closer than you'd initially gauged—and that closeness ignited dormant desperation, one you'd nearly forgotten existed.

Your throat was thick. Saliva lodged inside it. "I..."

There was a reason. There was a very good reason as to why you've only been with one man, why you promised to never put yourself through that shit again. But you couldn't bring yourself to say it, you couldn't bring yourself to speak the words aloud. That would mean being vulnerable, humiliatingly vulnerable--one of the many things soldiers were trained not to be.

Captain Price hummed, leaning back slightly, and a swarm of unpreventable desire roared alive in your chest. His attention flicked over you. Like he'd felt it.

He remained silent. He was waiting for an answer.

"It's...um..."

Your brain filtered through pages of plausible excuses until it landed on one. Inhaling a breath, you forced the fibbing syllables past your teeth, shrugging in an attempt to make it believable.

"I just...never found anyone I jived with.”

Price paused, his scrutiny skinning you raw. It was like he knew what was waiting on the edge of your tongue, like he could smell the smoke swirling off the fire below your waist. He wasn't buying it.

"You can't lie to me." His words only confirmed your thoughts. "I mean, theoretically you could, though I'd advise against it."

You swallowed, forcing your eyes to your hands. "I'm not lying."

"Perhaps not," he replied, voice cool as ice. "But you're certainly omitting."

Fuck, he was good. And of course he was--there was a reason he was Captain. He was fucking bred for this. You were certain he could detect a lie from light years away.

"It's embarrassing," you replied, ignoring the thrilled leap your heart made that he'd read you so well. "You'll think less of me."

John Price leaned further across the small table, nibbling the distance between you. The intensity of his focus made your insides tangle, something was undoubtedly churning within his mind. A breath caught in your throat as his eyes held yours.

"I don't care," he stole another inch, and you could now comfortably say that he was well within your personal space. "If this is going to work, there has to be trust. Because you should trust me—as your Captain, and as your friend..." in a single abrupt movement, he stood up, towering over you, eyes boring into the top of your head until he shifted toward the door. "...when you're ready to open up to me, I’ll open up to you."

Ice braced your veins. This was the most conversation you'd had with your Captain since you joined the team, and you were about to blow it with your inability to talk to him. To just telling him the fucking truth. He took a step back from the table, began moving toward the door, and you panicked.

You let him get two steps from reaching it before you jumped up, out of your seat. "Wait!"

Time was a relative concept. But as your Captain spun, and as you linked eyes with him, it slowed. Stopped.

You cleared your throat for the millionth time. "It's because...it's because I'm broken."

Price's eyes widened, only momentarily, before they narrowed--out of curiosity or skepticism, you couldn't tell.

"You’re broken." He said, drawing the words out on his tongue while taking a slow, lengthy step toward you. "Elaborate."

You dropped your eyes to the floor again, catching sight of his brown, rugged combat boots as they stepped into your line of sight. Heat flashed your face, and you shifted on your feet.

"My...my ex...um," your voice was barely above a whisper. Something felt gut-wrenchingly humiliating about having this conversation with your fucking Captain. "He, he kinda fucked with my head, I guess. Made me never want to date again."

You heard an exhale, a huff of enticed breath leaving lungs.

"I think," Price eased closer, and you caught whiff of his cologne--the scent engulfing your senses, sending hunger snarling and snapping for relief. "...you're omitting again."

"Why?..." you blurted, trailing your gaze past the vast expanse of his strong chest and up to his gleaming eyes peering down at you. You blinked. "...do you think that?"

Price raised a brow. "Am I wrong?"

"No, it’s just…” you closed your eyes, took a breath. Let it out. No point in lying. Just rip off the fucking bandaid. "He broke up with me because I couldn't orgasm. He said I was broken because of it. It’s dumb, but it hurt.”

Gods, it felt so fucking stupid that you had to smile, had to damn near laugh at yourself. As much as it sounded so foolish, you'd always just considered that maybe something was actually wrong with you. After all, he was your first, and your only—and the fact that you could never orgasm bothered you, too.

However, when you finally reopened your eyes, swallowing whatever ounces of pride you had left, you found a depth to your Captain's ocean irises that was not there before.

There was something floating inside them, now--something primal, something depraved.

"Interesting." His hand raised from his side, grazing over your cheek and coming to a slow on your neck, the tips of his fingers skimming over your racing pulse. "Broken."

Any blood that had been left in your head was now plummeting to your core.

"Broken." You whispered.

Price exhaled, his breath caressing your face, and you bit your lip to stifle the whimper that wanted to thrust itself past your teeth. Never once would you have considered the thought of actually fucking your Captain--but right here, right now, with the way he was touching you, analyzing you, palpably tempting you--it was becoming more difficult to deny the physical need steaming from your pores.

"This,” his voice was so deep it made your blood sweat, his thumb stroking your pulse. "Doesn't feel broken at all."

Adrenaline surged you, ambushing your lungs with rapid breath, flares of lust sparking over your skin. You leaned into his touch, and he let out a sound that was somewhere between a hum and a straight up growl.

Your pulse soared, your hand finding his wrist. “Captain…”

It would be lying to say you thought this was a good decision. But you couldn't find a fuck within you. After years of denying yourself any sort of physical touch due to the shame that consumed you, Price had perceived it without effort and ordered you strip yourself of pretense in his presence.

"Let me show you...." Price wedged a boot between your feet, his hips brushing yours, other hand finding your hip. "...that the only thing broken is your confidence."

You nearly whimpered. "Please."

Without further contemplation, your eyes darted to his lips the same millisecond his darted to yours, and you both moved at once. Price groaned, one hand shooting into your hair, the other supporting the small of your back, tugging you close. His hungry mouth captured yours, teeth nipping your lower lip as he spun you around and pushed you back against the table.

You groaned into his mouth, your ass hitting the cool metal with abrupt force. His lips attacked your jawline, moved down to your neck, and another groan escaped you, this time in bliss.

"Fuck," you cursed under your breath, throwing your hips into his, allowing desperation to guide you. "Captain..."

A low, menacing noise reverberated in his throat and he seized your neck again, bringing his mouth to your ear.

"My name," he took the lobe between his teeth, earning a squeak. "Say it."

"John—" You gasped, clawing at his back. "Shit."

"Mm. Good girl. So obedient..." he purred, tracing his mouth along the curve of your ear. "So responsive."

"Fuck." Every new beat of your heart brought a desperate pulse to your cunt. His fingers found your hair again, curling into a fist. "John...please..."

Your Captain hummed, just as his lips moved back to your pulse and attacked it, sucking rough rabid marks to the surface, his hips grinding against yours. Your eyelids fluttered shut, and he moved lower, releasing your head to work on removing your clothes.

Before your belt even hit the floor, he was tearing off your shirt and tugging off your bra--exposing your breasts to the cool air of the dimly lit room, surging goosebumps to life that he was quick to cover with his hands, taking the fresh tissue between them and kneading it.

"Fuck," he muttered under his breath, to himself you presumed. "You're fucking perfect."

There was one brief second of thought surrounding the notion that any one of your teammates could walk in and find the two of you here—but that thought was quickly lost as Price leant down and sucked one of your nipples into his mouth. You squealed, squeaking in pleasure, and his grip possessed your hips.

"So sensitive..." he said with a grunt. Your Captain wasn't just hungry—he was starved, more voracious by the second, spurred on by your reactions. "Fucking hell."

He leaned back, hooked his fingers under the waist of your pants and pulled, unconcerned for the ripping seams as he forced them down the curve of your thighs. Your head rung, entire body tingling. Paralyzed, you watched your Captain tear off your boots and rip your pants free, tossing them all to the side.

"Fuck me." He muttered again, returning his sights to your figure. "Look at you."

Price examined you like a meal, gaze traveling from your collarbone to your breasts, down past the curve of your belly to the swell of your hips, coming to a slow between your quivering thighs.

Adrenaline had got you this far. Reality was setting in. "Captain..."

"Shh," calloused hands found your hips, urging you back against the desk, spreading your legs further apart as he inserted himself between them. "I already told you what to call me."

You shuddered, twitching from his touch, and the corner of his lip quirked. Smouldering blue eyes searing into your skin. "John, I—"

His thumbs slid close to your heat, dipping into the crease and teasing close to the edge of your thong. Reality was a plummeting star, crashing down into your mind without regard. Nerves were consuming you, fingers digging into his biceps in attempt to stop them from shaking.

"You...what?" His voice was practically a lullaby. How something so deep could be so soothing was beyond your comprehension. "Go on, pretty thing..."

"I just..." you shifted your hips, trying to balance fear with desire. "I'm just...I don't want to disappoint you..."

Price assessed you, only for a moment, gracing your thigh with a stern yet gentle smack before trailing upward.

"Enough." It was an order. "I want you out of that beautiful mind."

He brushed his finger across your cunt, grazing over your swollen clit, and you choked, hips snapping toward him.

"Don't think..." the power in his words was intoxicating, a command given with the confidence of knowing you'd obey. He teased your clit again and you whinged, gripping him harder. "...just feel."

Before a coherent thought could enter your head, he pulled your panties to the side with two thick fingers, not giving you a second to brace for it before he used those same fingers and sank them into your tight, aching cunt.

"Oh—fuck-"

You groaned, head tossed back, walls tightening around the delicious stretch as he pried you open with slippery ease. The intensity, the fullness from just his fingers stole your breath, dizzied your mind, and you closed your eyes, trying to ignore the growling breath escaping his lungs, trying to ground yourself as much as you could.

"Christ...tight little cunts just soaked..." he was right, you were dripping. You couldn't ever remember being this wet. In truth, you couldn't ever remember being this turned on, this desperate for touch. "Tell me how that feels."

"G-oh, fuck—" any additional words you had planned on using instantly died on your tongue as Price curled inside of you, pushing deep, every coherent thought fleeing your mind with a moan. Your entire body pulsed for him, like he'd shaken every cell awake and enthralled it under his possession. "John—oh, Gods!"

It wasn't like you'd never been fingered. It'd just never felt like this.

Something about the trained motion of his hand, the skilled curl of his wrist, the attunement to your body was consuming you--the need for more only increasing as he found a perfect rhythm, fucking slow, reaching to your belly while his thumb circled your sensitive clit. Your cunt throbbed, squeezed around him, as if to coax him deeper inside of you.

"Needy little thing," an amused huff at the corner of your consciousness. You forced yourself to look at him—he was smirking. "Tell me how it feels."

Desperation was throbbing at your temples, growling and coiling in your belly—unfathomable, incredible desperation stalling your lungs. Unfamiliar, but entirely absentmindedly as Price stroked your walls, stroked your clit, and you were gasping, you were—

"So fucking good—" you were practically screaming, brain a mangled mess of aimless words. "Cap—John, I—I'm-"

His free hand seized your jaw, forcing you to look up into his eyes, his fingers still keeping their pace, your vision blurring to bliss. "You're?"

You gasped. "I’m-"

"You’re close." Fire flooded your flesh, and you mewled like a nervous, helpless animal. His grip tightened. Intensity and power radiating off him in waves. "S’ that what you want, little slut? Hm? You wanna’ fuckin’ cum for your Captain, don’t you?”

“Yes!” No thought required. “Pleasepleaseplease-“

“Mhm. That’s right, that’s right—“ he was just as gone as you were. Air rattled in your lungs like rocks. Your vision blurring as you held onto him like your life depended on it. “Cum on my fingers, darling, let me feel you.”

A scream shredded your throat, submerged in a storm of euphoria, sight whiter than the gates of heaven themselves. Convulsions wracked you, quaked to your bones, and you heaved, hunting for air while he worked you through the receding tide of your release.

“Good fuckin’ girl.” He growled, the arrogance in his tone palpable. “Look how easy that was, hm?”

Your Captian pulled his fingers from cunt and yanked you off the table by the hold on your jaw—you stumbled into him, wetness seeping down your thighs, brain given less than two seconds to process the slew of events before his slick covered fingers were at your lips and pushing past your teeth.

"The way I see it, soldier—there are two possible explanations here." He shoved his fingers deeper, reaching for the back of your throat. "Either you somehow managed to lie to me..." he pressed against you, his desire evident in the way it was jabbing against your stomach. "Or this tight little cunt has never been properly sated."

Your heart was in your feet, your lips sealed around his fingers as you held his eyes, a shade of blue so deep you'd almost thought you were staring into the depths of the ocean. His pupils were blown wide with lust, it was clear what he was getting at—and judging by the way your cunt clenched in response to his words, it was clear that you felt the same.

He pulled his fingers from your mouth, looking for a response. You gave the only words you could think of. "I didn’t lie…I’ve had sex, Captain...I’ve just never done—that.”

"Well I think I've just proven that it wasn’t due to any fault of your own." His words were backing you into a corner, an explanation that was challenging to draw yet completely impossible to now ignore. "I got you there in seconds."

Your face grew hot. “So..what are you saying?”

“I’m saying,” he assessed you, eyes looking past you, through you. “Your ex didn’t know what he was doing.” he leaned in closer, plush lips curling into a mischievous grin. “All you needed was someone who knew how to handle you.”

"Hm." The arrogance was stifling, setting you ablaze. It only made you want him more. "Cocky bastard."

"Cocky," he repeated with a raised brow. "You have no idea, princess.”

"You know what, Captain," you teased with a smirk of your own, unable to tear your sights off him. His eyes. His lips. "I think you just got lucky."

“Luck.” He chuckled—a deep, growling thing. "I don’t do luck, soldier. I do facts.” Price shifted a hand to his crotch, palming his erection through his pants as he pressed against you. “Fact one, I just gave you your first orgasm.” He was possessed, hungry, borderline rabid. “Fact two, I could do it again on my cock. If you’d like.”

And you, you were his eager, willing prey.

"Shit," you muttered, the words shooting straight to your cunt. You didn’t need any further discussion. You wanted him, and nothing could stop the next words from leaving your lips. "Please...please fuck me..."

Your Captain growled. The sweet desperation of your pleas sending him past the point of salvation. He sucked in a breath. Trapped it there—internally clutching whatever ounces of restraint he had left.

"You sure you want this?" His voice was so fucking low you almost missed it. His fingers moved to his belt, and his lips moved to your ear. "I'm not so sure you can take it."

"I'm built for combat, Captain..." you murmured with a grin, spurred on by the evidence of his throbbing desire, fingers trailing toward his belt to help him along. "I'm sure I'll be fine."

Price huffed against your jawline. Amused.

"You’re built for combat, undoubtedly..." you watched as he pulled free his thick, heavy cock. Your jaw slackened, your mouth watered. "But by the time I'm done with you, darling..." he seethed in relief as he guided his hand back and forth along his length, other one directing you back against the table. "You'll be built for me."

A sharp intake of breath found your lungs and then you were lying flat against the table, cool metal biting your backside and ripping goosebumps to the surface of your skin. You shuddered, seething in discomfort, but two strong hands made quick work to soothe them, coasting up your thighs until they found your hips, and then he stepped forward.

"Christ..." you whimpered as he loomed over you, the warm head of his cock rolling over your clit, teasing you with false thrusts, making sure you were well aware of just how long and fucking thick he was. "John..."

"Quiet." He purred, fingers digging into the flesh of your hips. "Just let me break you open."

His heavy, smooth tip pressed against your entrance and then pushed in, head just barely spearing you yet somehow still splitting your cunt with a girth that stole your breath and forced a cry from your throat. With a breathless groan he pulled out, and you squeezed your eyes shut, bracing.

He smacked your thigh again. “Look at me.” He hissed, teeth sinking into the plush of his bottom lip as you instantly obeyed. “That’s it. Eyes on me.”

There was a mere second of silence before he sank in again, entirely this time—and though you were fucking sopped and pliant and voracious, he tore you wide with a sting.

"Oh—fuck-"

You fought for air, your body trembling, fingers clawing at anything that might steady you. He’d stuffed you full with ease, lungs heaving upon impact. Both big hands tightened around you, and he slid out, driving into you again with a hidden hiss of air, earning a loud, shameless groan from your lips.

"Fucking hell.” A dark, low voice rumbled from his throat. "Tight little whore. So fucking tight—"

"You're—oh, fuck—" words died on your tongue as he pulled out, pushed in again, sucking in air through his teeth, working you wider with each plunge into your pussy. You clenched around him, and he snuffed a moan, snapping his hips. "You're fucking huge."

"Mhm, yeah," it was a shameless admission. He placed a palm on your pelvis, pressing down, feeling himself fucking into you. He leaned back slightly, drawing long, slow strokes, forcing you to quake around every inch of his length. "That's how fucking deep I'm in you."

And deep he fucking was. Every centimeter banishing the ability to do anything other than exist as a stammering sheath for his cock. It wasn't penetration—it was pervasion, it was domination. Sex had never felt this intense. Sex had never felt this fucking tranquilizing.

"Christ—Cap-John—fuck—"

Price slid out and rocked in, driving to your stomach with a stab of blissful pain. Eyes snapping shut, you gripped his arms, seething when he thrusted again, and again. Each stroke shoved a cry from your chest, tightened your walls, and this only seemed to entice him, his cock splitting you apart. You scratched at his shoulders, fighting to find yourself in the bewildering delirium.

"There we go." His voice was distant in the sea of pleasure. "Look at you. Brainless on my fucking cock."

Your response was a moan, loud and shameless, gripping onto his arms and matching his rhythm, forcing your hips to his, a plea—faster, harder, more, more. Your Captain hissed in satisfaction, and his hand snaked between you, rolling and teasing your clit.

Your vision blurred for the hundredth time. "Oh, fuck—"

Delirium ascended into ecstasy, pleasure amplified by the stretch of his dick. He fucked into you, his skin smacking yours, his breath heaving in feral huffs.

"Fucking perfect pussy," he growled through his teeth, shifting your legs together and directing both ankles over his left shoulder, his thrusts slowly slightly as you gasped and whimpered, clawing at his hips, the new position causing the head of his cock to kiss your cervix with each thrust. "Mm, fuck...this is what you needed, darling. You needed a proper fucking."

"Fuck," you replied, brain numbed by bliss. Words didn't even make sense. "Deep. So fuck—deep—"

"Fuck—take it, take it little slut." His thumb was back on your clit, swirling it in tight, fast circles, his cock fucking deep into you. "I warned you."

"John—" You needed to scream, fingers clawing at anything they could find. If you weren't broken before, you’d certainly be broken when he was done with you. "Fuck—"

Bliss burned to burst, stars swarmed your sight entirely, and you knew it, knew it was happening, knew that you were about to break. The feeling was so intense you didn't know what to do with yourself, you weren't sure if you could even get the words out to warn him.

Your eyes squeezed shut. "Fuck—I'm—I-I'm..."

"Yeah, that's right." He hissed, teeth barred, hips snapping. He already knew. "Cum for me. Cum on my fucking cock."

Lightning euphoria ripped up your spine with a shameless shriek, your climax shattering you. Your cunt milked his dick, your thighs spasming, your back reached for the ceiling, pleasure possessing your nerves.

"There we go—good little fucking slut—squeezing me so good," it seemed an eternity--he was still fucking you through it, breaking you deep, until he edged his climax. "Fucking hell."

He sputtered, pummelling your cunt with sloppy final thrusts, pouring his cum inside you, grip gouging your flesh until he descended, meeting you in the receding tides of your peaks. Both of you twitched with aftershocks, both of you seeking air.

Once he stalled, you sucked in a long inhale and peeled your eyes open, taking in your surroundings for the first time in however many minutes it had been. The room was still as dim and dreary as it was prior to your mind shattering, the only thing now different was your Captain—who remained looming over the table, cock still buried inside you, precipitation lining his forehead and chest still heaving for breath, piercing gaze perceiving you like a sated predator.

With a glance at your lips, he finally moved, pulling back and out of you, tucking himself away. It was then that reality struck you hard—you'd just fucked your Captain. And he'd just shattered the preconceived notions of everything you thought you knew.

You were not broken. You were perfectly fucking fine.

Price cleared his throat as you pulled yourself off of the table and stood. "Y'alright?"

You nodded, grabbing your pants off the floor. "Yes, Sir."

Shame engulfed you, for reasons you couldn't explain. Embarrassment threatened to swallow you whole.

"Hey." Sensing this, Price stepped forward, placing a gentle hand on your arm. "Don't do that."

Your eyes fixed on his. Outlining his perfectly tamed facial hair, his striking blue eyes. "Do what?"

"Avoid me." He simply stated, his voice hardly above a whisper. "All this was, was me proving to you that you're not broken. You're the furthest from. It doesn't have to be any more than that."

"I know…just feel stupid, I guess.” Your face was in flames. You swallowed your pride until it was digested. There was no room for that here, not after what’d just happened. “I, uh, I should have told you sooner. I’m sorry.”

Price regarded you with eyes warm as the summer sun, shaking his head ever-so-slightly. “I wanted you to open up to me. Willingly. I never pry.”

You cracked a smile, slipping on your shoes. “You got your wish, then. Emotionally and physically.”

“Aye.” Your captain chuckled, reaching for the bottle of whiskey and plopping himself into a seat, sliding a glass across the table toward you. “My turn, yeah?”

2K notes · View notes

thedevilsoftruth · 2 months ago

Text

♡~" Don't I know you? "~♡

Civil war! Bucky Barnes x f! Reader

Summary: Bucky is still slowly regaining his memories. When he sees you walking into a bar, he swears he's seen your face before, and his awful curiosity for you " accidentally " drags you into his apartment.

Tags/warnings: Smut!!! Literally 4k words for pure and utter smut. A VERY bad idea, one night stand, Dom!Bucky, lots of kissing, Bucky really likes your boob's, cunnilingus, spit/pussy spitting/slapping, choking, Bucky is implied to be a masochist, vaginal fingering, praising, thigh riding ( kinda ) multiple orgasms, piv sex, unprotected, temperature play if you squint, Buckies arms mentioned heavily. Not beta read!

So Bucky won my poll last week, and it took me so long to push this out because I had to rewrite it 4 times. But anyways, big thanks to @evillious-trash for helping me break out of my writers block. I definitely feel like the ending was rushed ( I was working on this specific fic from 7pm to 2am--non stop with no breaks. ) but nonetheless, please enjoy this VERY smutty fic.

Song recommended: Walking In My Shoes by Depeche Mode

Minors DNI! I am not responsible for what you find on the internet.

[ P.S: My marvel request box is back open. Please check my pinned post for more information regarding my request rules. ]

Oh boy, was it a terrible mistake; Bucky deciding to greet you in the bar that night. All he could think about was how guilty he was going to feel about it in the morning. In fact, he was already feeling guilt even in the moment.

As his large hands splayed on your thighs on his kitchen table in his apartment--and as you both engaged in heavy kissing, the question of what In the hell was he doing kept repeating in his head.

He didn't know why he was doing it but he knew it felt right. Even if it wasn't, it was what he wanted; and Bucky Barnes wasn't used to getting what he wanted.

His tongue escaped into your mouth, his hands gripping your thighs tightly. The cold metal of his prosthetic hand sent chills down your body each time It would touch you. Your fingers were curled into the fabric of his long sleeved henley shirt, tugging at them for support.

When he approached you in the bar, he seemed so shy and awkward. The way he would scratch his neck sheepishly, the way he'd keep looking at his hands, the way he spoke so quietly. All of it pointed to him being a shy, innocent introvert.

But this man was everything but shy and innocent.

He kissed you dominantly like he was afraid of losing control of you, he dirty talked you like you were some cheap whore on the streets, and yet--there was something oddly sweet about him in a very bizarre way.

His hand was scarred and had too many callouses to count with the skin on it being cracked and dry; compared to the strange prosthetic hand he has which was smooth and scarless. He never told you his entire left arm was a prosthetic; just his hand. In fact, he didn't say much about himself and even told you at one point that he didn't want to talk about himself or his background. And when you asked him for his name, he just stared at you for several minutes before saying " Bucky " so quietly that you wouldn't be able to pick up on it if it weren't for being able to read his lips.

He told you that you had to leave his apartment once he was done with you, and when you asked why, he responded with " I have business to take care of in the morning. " It was quite strange, especially because he was unemployed.

You were trying so hard to figure out who he really was. You knew you had seen him somewhere, but you couldn't figure out what it was. He was internally doing the same thing with you. Even though it had been almost a year since he left hydra, most of his memories were still gone and the codewords to set him off could still easily trigger him. But when he approached you in that bar, he knew he'd seen you somewhere.

You still remembered the first thing he said to you as he chased after you. It was, " do I know you? "

Not a " hi " " hello", or, " can I buy you a drink? " Just the four words; do I know you?

Bucky pulled back from your lips, panting. He smacked your thigh and cleared his throat.

" Get off the table and turn around. " He commanded breathlessly, stepping back and eyeing you up and down. You hesitated. It was so weird seeing him like that. Once again, this was a man who was afraid of looking you in the eye and averted his gaze each time you'd try to provoke him by opening the top of your dress to reveal more of your cleavage. But even with how weird he acted, you still complied to the order and shakingly got off the table.

The second you were on your feet, he spun you around and pulled you tight against his body. He was incredibly strong, and his grasp on your body was so tight that you felt like you couldn't breathe.

He moved your hair over your shoulder and trailed hot open-mouthed kisses from your jaw all the way down to the crook of your neck. He sucked down at your pulse point, making you whimper. He kept his real arm around your stomach, and his metal hand came up to your neck, tilting your head back against his shoulder. You were starting to become lightheaded.

" Bucky, " you breathed weakly, grabbing his wrist splayed across your stomach. " Can't breathe. " You told him weakly, patting his forearm twice. He slowly eased his grasp on you but kept it tight enough to where you couldn't escape his hold on you. It was like he was a control freak.

His tongue lapped across your neck where he'd been kissing before he parted his lips and gently bit down on your skin, making you squeal.

He let go of your neck, and moved his metal hand down to your cleavage. His lips transported to your earlobe, and he bit and kissed at it as he started playing with your boobs. His hand engulfed one of your tits, taking it in his dominant hold and groping it hard. You moaned softly at his touch and whimpered when he let go to run both hands up your thighs.

His lips found yours from behind your shoulder, and his lips slowly began moving against yours as his hands squeezed your thighs. His arms snaked around your stomach again, and his hips rolled against your backside, making you groan loudly as he did so.

Bucky pulled back from your body and pulled the zipper of your dress all the way down until your back was exposed. He spun you around to face him once more, and then stepped back.

" Take your clothes off. " He told you, crossing his arms across his chest. You stepped out of your dress, leaving you only in your undergarments and your heels. You sat in the table, staring at him as your fingers worked on the hooks of your bra.

He stared back at you with hungry eyes as you rolled your panties down your legs, leaving you completely exposed to him. Bucky was very unpredictable to you. You didn't know if he was going to choke you and spit in your mouth in one instance or kiss you gently and whisper sweet nothings in your ear the other.

You looked at him with a certain gaze that made him hard and absolutely aching for you. There was something so sexy about the way you were sitting on his table, looking so vulnerable but so inviting.

It was like a fucking wet dream, like one of the sick ass fantasies he'd get every once and a while. As he stepped between your legs and stared you up and down, he got a certain nostalgic feeling as he started to remember the many people he used to sleep around with. And you reminded him of one of those people. That was why he was so drawn to you. You were exactly the type he'd run after when he was still in the military. And all he needed with the headspace he was in in the moment was a little reminder of who he used to be.

" Are you going to take me to your bed? " You asked him, running your hand down his chest. He grimaced, looking down at your hand. He scoffed, like the joke was dumb and funny to him.

" I don't use a bed. " He responded. " I don't need one. We can just use the floor or the table. " He finished, running a hand through his thick hair.

It was then and there when you realized that he was by far your strangest hookup. Was he just really drunk and acting weird or was he actually like this?

" Are you sure--"

" Stop talking. " He cut you off, picking you up and off the table without breaking a sweat, carrying you to his couch where he than sat down with you in his lap. He positioned you on one of his thighs and leaned back against the seat, running his hands up and down your sides.

You felt so embarrassed for whatever reason. You were completely exposed to him and he was taking his sweet ass time with you.

Then, he slowly started bouncing you up and down on his thigh, leaning in to attack your neck with harsh kisses like he was doing before.

You moaned softly at the friction between the rough fabric of his leans and your aching core. His hand idly rubbed up and down your back,the other gripping your hip and keeping you in place on his thigh.

Bucky lips parted and he bit at your pulse point before sucking a small little hickey on your skin. You gasped at the contact, and he started bouncing you on his leg faster.

You threw your head back and whined desperately, tugging at his thick biceps through his long sleeved shirt.

" What's the matter, doll? " He asked in a mock-tone voice, tracing your bottom lip with his thumb. " You want my cock, hm? "

He trailed his metal hand down between your thighs and ran his two middle fingers down your soaked slit, electing a loud moan out of you. You curled your fingers into his shirt tighter, rocking your hips against his hand, seeking more friction.

" Stop that. " Bucky growled, grabbing your hip with his other hand to keep you in place. " Or you wont have me at all. " He warned, looking at you sternly.

His fingers started slowly playing with your aching clit, making you whimper and shake in his arms. The coldness of the metal on his fingers made you wince each time they'd touch you. And that was something that got Bucky off; seeing how you reacted to different temperatures.

He circled your entrance with his middle finger. His eyebrows were furrowed, his lips pursed with concentration as he focused on you completely.

He continued to tease you by pretending to stick his finger in only to pull it out and circle around your entrance instead.

" Bucky- " you whined, but he cut you off.

" Lay down. " He told you, patting your thigh, signaling you to get off his lap. Eagerly, you complied, laying down on your back on the couch.

" Spread your legs. " He told you, and you once again, obeyed, opening your legs in front of him. He undid his belt buckle, not taking the belt fully off but just undoing the buckle. All for him to just dip his head between your thighs-- not that you were complaining, but it was just not what you were expecting.

He lifted your legs and threw them over his broad shoulders. He leaned into your sweet cunt and slowly licked a long line from your entrance to your clit. His warm breath and tongue only added to the sensations and made you feel fuzzy. His beard tickled your skin as he began moving against you and he laid his tongue flat against your pussy, shaking his head slowly and making you moan loudly.

You pushed his long curtain bangs back with your hand and curled a fist into his thick brown hair, making him groan in approval as he ate you out. His large hands gripped your thighs tightly, holding them in place and keeping them open for his hungry mouth.

Bucky trailed open-mouthed kisses down your pussy before stopping at your clit. He flicked his tongue up and down your aching bud, making you moan loudly and your fingers curl into his scalp harder. Most men you slept with hated it when you pulled on their hair because it hurt, but Bucky seemed completely unfazed by it; In fact, it seemed like the pain is what spurred him on--if he felt any pain from it all. And mostly, it didn't. Bucky grew very tolerant to pain after all of the experiments and torture hydra put him through.

He flicked his eyes to look up at yours from his spot between your thighs, and your eyes locked for a brief moment before we went back to focusing on your cunt. He pulled back from your pussy and then, without warning, spat directly onto it. He looked up at you and slapped your pussy a few times, making you squeal.

Bucky wiped his hand on his jeans before leaning back in between your thighs. He dragged the tip of his tongue across your folds, spreading his saliva across your cunt. You whined loudly as his lips closed around your clit, sucking at it harshly before he circled his tongue around it.

" So fucking sweet. " He moaned. " You like that shit? " He laughed, looking directly at you and making you feel utterly embarrassed. He laid his tongue flat on your cunt again, shook his head, and then bobbed his head up and down as he sucked on your clit. A mantra of breathless moans escaped your lips as he did so, your thighs shaking violently in his arms.

It felt so good that you wanted to cry. Even Bucky was shocked at how well he was doing, but he figured that most of it came from his past experience and muscle memory. You closed your legs around his face, tugging on his scalp. He let out an annoyed groan and spread your legs back apart.

He pulled back from your pussy and ran the knuckles of his two middle fingers down your slit. He then, finally, dipped his fingers into your warm entrance and slowly started pumping them in and out of you.

He rose from your thighs, sitting on his knees as he continued to finger you gently, giving his jaw a short little break.

" You're so gorgeous. " He told you, tilting his head with a cocky smile as he ran his metal arm down your stomach, giving you goosebumps.

Bucky curled his fingers Inside you, slowly and repeatedly pumping them in and out of you and drawing out long, sweet whines out of your lips. He then dipped his head back between your shaking thighs and his tongue began working with his fingers to completely satisfy you. His eyes flicked up to meet yours.

" You gonna cum soon, pretty girl? Hmm? " He cooed, giving your cunt little kitten licks as he looked up at you. You could just hear the smile on his face as he spoke.

You whimpered in response, your hips bucking toward his face and your back arching off the couch. Your fingers found their way back into his long hair, spurring him on with a harsh tug.

He shoved his long, thick middle fingers as far as they could inside of you, and he curled them once more--directly in your sweet spot, electing a loud moan out of you. Your thighs began to uncontrollably shake around his head, your hips stuttering against his face as he ate you out.

" It's okay, honey. " He purred, rubbing your thighs softly. " You can cum, sweetie. Come on. Right onto my face, gorgeous. " Bucky encouraged against your pussy, his words sickeningly sweet; a complete and utter contrast to his earlier behavior.

The pace of his fingers slowly started to speed up as he became more determined to make you orgasm. He placed open-mouthed kisses onto your soaked folds and he started sucking down on your clit again, the lewd, wet, almost slurping noises that he was making rang through the both of your ears and made him especially ten times harder.

And you just couldn't help it. Your sex began contracting against Buckies thick fingers, tightening around him, trapping him there inside you until you finally came.

Bucky withdrew his fingers from you and he groaned in approval as you came down on him hard. He wiped his hand on his jeans again, eagerly lapping up every last drop of cum coming from you. He closed his eyes tight and moaned as your sweet nectar hit his tongue. He was probably enjoying it more than you. Your entire body was shaking, satisfaction and relief spreading through your body as he helped you come down from your high.

" Fuck, " he moaned, holding your thighs open as his tongue lapped up the rest of your cum.

When he was done, he rose from your legs, panting. His lips, nose, and chin were glistening with your essence, his beard almost completely soaked with it. He chuckled and wiped his face off with his shirt. You laid there, panting, at a complete loss of words.

" You did so good, doll. " Bucky praised, crawling over your body and capturing your lips in a heated kiss. He pecked at your lips multiple times before he slowly started giving you sweet open-mouthed kisses. You could taste yourself on his lips, and that was his goal. He began trailing kisses down your body, starting at the column of your throat, heading towards your collarbone, and stopping at your breasts.

Bucky took one of your breasts into his left hand--the metal one--and he played with it while his mouth paid attention to your other breast. His thumb and index finger tweaked at your nipple. Meanwhile his tongue was circling around your areola before his lips closed around your nipple and began sucking on that gently. The contact made you gasp, your cunt aching for him even more.

He then switched his attention to your other breast, his lips kissing and sucking at your nipple, his hand playing with your other breast. When he was done, he lifted his head and sat down on his knees between your thighs. He was looking down at you with a wicked smile, his blue eyes dark with lust.

" You know, " he started, his hand reaching for his unbuckled belt. His voice was so smooth; sweet like the finest honey there ever was, clear like a bright sunny afternoon. " You've been so good for me, don't you think? " He smiled, tilting his head to the side as he threw his belt down onto the floor. He picked up your leg by the base of your thigh and gently placed a few kisses on it, his eyes never looking away from yours.

" Maybe I should reward you, yeah? " He proposed in a suggestive tone, unzipping his jeans. You gulped hard, looking at his hands and then back at his face. He pulled his pants down slightly and reached within them to pull his cock out; ready for you and dripping with precum.

" Come sit in my lap. " He told you, sitting on his knees and patting his thighs. You weakly sat up, your body still shaking after your intense orgasm. You went to climb in his lap, but he stopped you.

" Other way, sweetie. " He said, turning your body the other way so that your back was facing his chest. He placed his hands on your hips, lowering your body onto his lap. It took him a moment, but he wrapped his hand around his shaft and directed his cock to your entrance.

Bucky then slowly seethed himself inside you, giving you a moment to adjust to his size before he began rocking his hips.

You felt his hand on your back, and he gently pushed your body down and into the couch, keeping his hand there so that you wouldn't move. You whimpered at the contact, your mind wandering to all the things he could do to you in that instance. Just thinking about those things made you even wetter for him.

Bucky slowly dragged his cock across your velvety, warm walls before pulling out just a little bit below his tip, and then shoving himself back in; setting a medium-fast pace for himself. The poor couch squeaked underneath your joined bodies, and you tried to prop yourself up on your elbows, but Bucky pushed you back down.

" Bucky! " You yelped his name as he began to move faster. He bent over your body and kissed your shoulder sweetly, his hand coming to rest on your hip.

" Yeah, doll? " He whispered in your ear, nipping at your earlobe and sending shivers down your spine and an electric sensation through your pussy.

" Go a bit slower? " You panted, looking at him with heavy lidded eyes and an open mouth. He chuckled at the request, and chuckled and the look on your face. He ran his hand down your cheek.

" But we've barley started. " He fake whined, sitting back on his knees. He kept his metal arm on your back, holding you down as he proceed to fuck you into oblivion. You gripped the cushion of the couch with all your might, your faced smushed against the cushion and your hair splayed messily all over your face.

The sight was our heaven for Bucky. Him sitting on his knees with you in his lap, his cock buried deeply inside your wam little cunt, your back faced to him. He pulled out again and slammed back in, this time with more force, and this time setting off with a much harsher and faster that sent his cock deep within you.

Your eyes rolled back in ecstasy, your mouth leaving out a chant of endless moans that only made his cock harder. He reached his other hand around you to slowly circle around your clit, making your body jump and you gasp.

" Oh. " Bucky laughed. " Did that feel good, sweetie? " He purred directly into your ear, rolling his middle finger around your sensitive little bud. You nodded your head, your brain becoming foggy as drool started to leave your mouth. Bucky removed the hand on your back and instead began to use it on your mouth. He dragged his metal thumb across your bottom lip, playing with your saliva and running it over your puffy wet lips.

He sat back up and redoubled his efforts on his thrusts. He began rolling his hips to give you slow, deep and hard thrusts, thrusts that literally made you see stars.

And then, he started hitting your sweet spot once more--and he could tell he was doing so by the loud mewls you were letting out for his ears to drink it. The loudness of your moans only egged him on more, an she wrapped his hands around your hips hard and started pushing you off and on his cock with his harsh thrusts.

You bit your lip and whined desperately, your nails digging into the couch and your toes curling in immense pleasure.

" Holy fuck.. " you panted. " Bucky ahh... Gonna cum again. " You told him, nearly choking on your own moans. Although you thought you were going to be cumming soon, Bucky had different plans for you. Plans he'd think you wouldn't enjoy that much.

He smirked widely and smacked your ass hard, the skin on skin contact echoing through the empty halls of his apartment along with the yelp you let out when he did so.

He felt your muscles contract around his cock again and, just before you could release, he pulled out of you, panting. You were left feeling empty and unsatisfied.

" What the hell?! " You snapped, looking at him from over your shoulder. " I was almost there. " You whined. He fake pouted.

" Well that's too bad, isn't it? " He purred, flipping you onto your back. You were getting so tired and frustrated at that point, that all you wanted to do was have one last orgasm and be done with it and go home.

How he was able to keep up so long without running out of steam was a wonder to you. You only came once, and you felt like you were going to pass out.

Bucky grabbed your legs and pinned them to your chest, practically folding you in half. Your cheeks turned bright red as he slowly pushed back inside you; embarrassed by the new position though it was very sexy.

He now had a front view of you, a view he thought was even better than the last. Because in the position, he could see your face and the way you reacted to every little thing he did. He could see the way your tits would bounce with each thrust he gave you, and he could even see your pretty little pussy better.

Your face contorted into one of pure pleasure, your eyebrows quirked and your puffy lips quivering. To Bucky, it was the hottest fucking thing ever. With this position he was able to sink his cock even deeper within you, so deep until his entire thing was stuffed inside you.

He was starting to feel a build up in his abdomen, and he was wondering if you were feeling the same.

For a brief moment, he pulled out, all to spit on your cunt one last time, spreading his saliva out around your over-sensitive folds with his fingers. He grabbed hold of the base of your thighs as he slowly sunk himself back into you, looking you in your eyes deeply. He started to get that familiar feeling again, as he sped back up and listened to your sweet moans echo off the walls. The familiar feeling that he had seen you somewhere before.

And you were absolutely oblivious to it. The only thing that was on your mind was how hot he was and how good the sex felt.

You reached out for his thick bicep through his shirt, your fingernails digging into his skin.

" Feeling good? " He asked you, giving your calf a kiss while looking you in your eyes. You nodded, panting, trying to remain eye contact.

" I'm getting so close, Bucky.. " You moaned, your back arching off the couch.

" Me too. " He responded, bending down and bracing his arms beside your face, caging you away from the outside world.

His cock kissed and touched every single inch of your cunt that was hyper-sensitive, and he kept thrusting into you at a steady, fast pace until a milky white ring of your cum started to appear around his cock.

He slowed down, looking down at the liquid spilling out of you. He bit his lip, looking back at you.

" Oh honey, " he breathed, " look at that. "

---

By the time the both of you were finished, it was almost 4 in the morning. You were putting your clothes back on, and Bucky was already starting to feel that awful sense of guilt wash over him.

" I don't know how appropriate this is to say, " you chuckled as you began putting your heels back on. Bucky rose a brow at you. " But you kind of look like that winter solider guy that's everywhere on the news right now. "

Bucky immediately felt the blood drain from his face the moment you said that, and his eyes went wide, and he became speechless. And that was all just for you to laugh loudly, and immediately brush it off as nothing serious.

" I'm just messing with you. Have a good night. " You told him, snorting. And just like that, you were out the door like he had requested at the bar earlier that night.

That night, you were finally able to pinpoint where you knew his face from, but even as the next day rolled on, Bucky still couldn't figure out who you reminded him of.

#marvel #mcu #mcu smut #marvel smut #james barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky barns x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #the winter soldier

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inspired-lesson-plans · 2 months ago

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This is a very long post. If you do not have the time, then please at least do the quick activity up top. The lesson plan that took me 4 days to write will follow the ⁜ symbol.

HW Due Mon:

Open https://mysolartime.com/ in a new tab and allow the website to track your location.

Open https://www.utctime.net/ in a new tab.

Reblog this post the current UTC time and your local time, using the following format:

21:00 UTC, 4:00 local

4. Vote in the following poll.

⁜

Social Studies, Grade 5, Geography 6.1.5.GeoSV.3: Demonstrate how to use digital geographic tools, maps and globes to measure distances and determine time zones, and locations using latitude and longitude.

Do Now:

Provide students with a paper copy of a population density world map and 2 minutes to fulfill the following instruction:

Draw lines on the map in order to separate the world into 24 time zones. Try not to separate dense population centers into different time zones.

⁎

Class Discussion:

Use the projector to share and discuss the maps of any students who are willing to share. Have fun with this, there are bound to be some good ideas and bad ideas because 5th grade is like that.

Then, project the official world time zone map, and discuss the good ideas and bad ideas present here.

Exemplary discussion points:

The 0-point of the timezone map is the Prime Meridian, which cuts right through England. Why do you think it's in England?

How come some countries like the US and Brazil are cut into multiple time zones, but China isn't?

Why do you think the lines are pretty straight in Europe, Africa, and North and South America, but so confused in Asia and the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans?

⁑

Direct Instruction:

Long ago, nobody really cared about the exact time. All you really needed was sunrise, sunset, and noon, and you could figure those out with your eyes. If you wanted to be fancy, you could put a stick in the ground and trace its shadow over the course of the day to measure out hours.

Perhaps the first recorded complaint of time-keeping technology comes from Rome in 250BCE.

The gods confound the man who first found out how to distinguish hours! Confound him too Who in this place set up a sundial To cut and hack my days so wretchedly Into small portions! When I was a boy, My belly was my sundial: one more sure, Truer, and more exact than any of them. This dial told me when it was time To go to dinner, when I had anything to eat; But nowadays, why even when I have, I can't fall-to unless the sun gives leave. The town's so full of these confounded dials, The greatest part of its inhabitants, Shrunk up with hunger, creep along the streets. [x]

In other words, "Kids these days are always looking at their sundials. Back in my day, there were only three times, Breakfast, Lunch, and Dinner. All we needed to tell the time was our stomach!"

Please note this was a satire, so if it sounds funny, you are correct.

But for 18th century British sailors, accurate timekeeping was no laughing matter. These sailors used fancy math (called trigonometry) to calculate their latitude. So long as they knew the angle between the sun and the horizon, and the time when that angle was measured.

Ship's captains would keep logbooks of these measurements. That way, another ship's captain would be able to reference the logbook in order to replicate the journey, much like replicating a science experiment.

Now... think about this... how can you do that unless the next captain is using the same time as you. We take this for granted today, but how can you be sure that two clocks are synchronized?

Scientists in the town of Greenwich, England (pronounced gren`-ich) recorded the solar noon every day of the year and calculated the Greenwich Mean Time. By keeping an accurate and exact time in one exact place, GMT eventually the Coordinated Universal Time (UTC) for everyone in the world. That's why in the time zone map, the 0 runs through one specific part of England.

This is important. For the first time in human history, the clocks in different places were synchronized. Solar noon happens at a different time in London than it does in Greenwich, but if they both use GMT (otherwise known as UTC), then they can coordinate their schedules. This was very important for railroads, where exact, coordinated schedules are very important.

Soon, the entire country of England existed within a single time zone.

When the United States built railroads that spanned vast lateral (East-West) distances, they needed to create different time zones for cities that were far apart from each other, such as New York and Chicago. Thus, the US became the first country with multiple time zones.

As the rest of the world industrialized, they needed to pick their time zones. You can see this on the map. Each time zone is, at least in theory, as wide as 1/24 the circumference of the Earth. It's like the space between the numbers on a clock! Most countries are smaller than this, so they can comfortably fit within a single timezone. Others, like Brazil and Australia, divided their landmasses into two or three time zones.

China did not have widespread industrialization until post-WWII dictatorial communist rule. This was a very uncaring and inconsiderate government, to put it mildly. Suffice it to say that for Chinese farmers in the far west, having to get up 2-3 hours earlier every day would have been the least of their worries.

⁂

Modeled Activity:

Show students how to use this Day and Night world map as a way to visualize the day and night cycle across the world.

Additionally, show them how to use https://mysolartime.com/ to find their current time where they live.

Give students a moment to calculate the difference between their Local Time and the official time in their time zone, and what that means.

(I am currently in Philadelphia, which is 11 minutes East of New York City)

Finally, show students how to use https://www.utctime.net/ to find their exact, current UTC.

Have students calculate the difference in minutes and hours between Local Time and Official Time.

00:41 - 19:30 = -5:11 (Philadelphia is 5 hours and 11 minutes East of Greenwich, England)

Explain that every internet connected device in the world uses a service like this one, then adds or subtracts hours to fit the time zone of your current location.

Higher Order Learning:

Students work in small groups to look up the local time in different major cities around the world, recording their data on a worksheet. As they do, they should discuss the following questions:

Are time zones still relevant in our always-online society?

If you can know your Local Time and the UTC any time you look at your phone, then what purpose do time zones still serve?

How would it feel for schools and businesses to use UTC instead?

How would you feel if your school day went from 4:20-10:50 UTC?

Finally, each student must individually write at least 3 sentences responding to the following question:

Would you advocate for or against your school district dropping references to the time in your time zone and instead referring to UTC and Local Time? Why or why not?

#lesson plan #social studies #grade 5 #geography #poll #polls of tumblr #tumblr poll #teachblr #I JUST WANTED TO ASK A QUESTION BUT I KEPT ON RAMBLING IN THE NOTES AND THEN I WAS LIKE “THIS IS A LESSON ISN'T IT”#AND THEN I SPENT THE NEXT 3 DAYS DOING BASICALLY NOTHING WITH MY FREE TIME EXCEPT RESEARCHING AND WRITING THIS LESSON #I HOPE YOU ALL LEARN SOMETHING BECAUSE I DID

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batty4vamps · 8 days ago

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Dwayne (The Lost Boys) Nsfw Alphabet 🔞

As promised in the poll 😗

Includes: nsfw under the cut obviously, gn reader

I’m writing this with the context of the reader being in a relationship with Dwayne. I think outside of that him and the boys are used to getting off, getting fed, and getting out lmao

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

King of aftercare. Holding you and making sure you’re the most comfortable. He doesn’t speak much, just gently massages your back, hips, and shoulders until you’re completely asleep

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

I mean let’s be so fr he loves his pecs and abs. Like he doesn’t OWN a shirt, he knows how sexy they are. Run your hands or nails down them and he’s giving the most proud smirk.

He’s loves hips and thighs. Doesn’t matter the size, he loves grabbing, kissing, and biting on them regardless. His favorite positions are the ones that enable him to grip his your hips.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

His favorite place to cum is your thighs. There’s just something so hot to him about seeing your soft thighs covered in it. If you’re giving him head though he loves finishing on your neck and chest.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He’s gotten off smelling an item of your clothing. Multiple times.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He is very experienced. He may not be Paul experienced (or maybe he’s just not as loud about it) but he knows what feels good and what he likes.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

He loves having you laid back at end the bed while he plows into you, standing. He loves gripping your hips and being able to get as deep as he needs while watching you come undone.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He’s serious, but not in an awkward way, he’s just a stoic guy. He isn’t one to make jokes, but if something funny or embarrassing happens he’ll laugh it off with you before getting back into it.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Natural, doesn’t shave, likes his body hair.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He’s a gentleman, and he wants you to feel desired. He’s romantic as much as a lost boy can be romantic. I wouldn’t expect rose petals on the bed, but he’s still very good at setting the mood. Candles are involved. He enjoys the process of seducing you, getting you into his bed, and making you feel good.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Less than average. He only really does it if you aren’t around or aren’t in the mood and he really can’t shake it off.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Cock warming FS, he loves having you that close to him while he reads to you or while watching a movie together.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

First and foremost he likes being alone in bed with you. Other then that, there’s something romantic about doing it in the moonlight under the boardwalk that can also get him going. He isn’t really one for anything public, but once in a while he’s down for a quickie in an alley to spice things up.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

He very much enjoys you in revealing outfits, he is but a man after all. In public likes seeing people stare at you, knowing you’re his. Plus, seeing leather cling to your body is always gonna get him going.

He also lovessss when you wear his clothes. Whether they’re loose or tight on you, he adores it. Let him find you wearing only his jacket, it’ll be a damn good time AND he’ll get a hard on every time he sees you in it for weeks.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Anything too public, or around the other boys. He’s not the most territorial in the pack, but he’s up there, and doesn’t need the rest of the boys seeing you like he does.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He loves both, but I think over all he’d give more often. He likes providing and being the one making you feel good. That certainly doesn’t mean he’ll ever say no to a bj.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

If he can help it, he likes being able to take his time. He’s more about the journey than the destination.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Not his favorite, but they can be hot under the right circumstances.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He’ll try most things that you want to try at least once, but he’s also is pretty firm about not trying something again if it went badly the first time. He’d rather go back to things you both know you enjoy.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

His rounds are veryyyy drawn out, he can go for 3-4, but that’s on a night where you have nothing to do but just lounge about and fuck. Which he very much enjoys.

He, being the gentleman he is, tries his absolute best to last until after you’ve finished. Being that he’s very experienced, he’s pretty good at it.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Doesn’t own any of his own besides one pair of handcuffs, but isn’t opposed to explore more if it’s something you’re into.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He likes playing a little subtle cat and mouse game with you when you’re out. You doing something you know riles him up while having that little knowing smile on your face is just too pretty a sight.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Doesn’t talk much, mostly grunts. Will stop to praise you once in a while.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Very rarely he’ll let you cuff him while you ride him or give him head. The cuffs have definitely broken before. Be prepared to get your ass wrecked afterwards.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Slightly longer than average and thick

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Higher than he lets on, almost as high as Paul’s. He’s not ashamed of it, but he’s subtle and likes when you come to him. Y’all have a very healthy sex life fs.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

If it’s in the middle of the night still, he prefers to lay around with you and talk or listen to music rather than sleep. If it’s morning, he’s pass out once he makes sure you’re asleep.

I’m not opposed to doing this for the other boys too if there’s any want for that 👀

#i need him #i need him so bad #have y’all noticed I’m a Dwayne girly yet #dwayne the lost boys #dwayne tlb #dwayne the lost boys x reader #lost boys dwayne x reader #smut #lost boys #the lost boys #the lost boys 1987 #tlb 1987 #the lost boys headcanons #the lost boys x reader #the lost boys smut #batty4vamps

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gremlin-girly · 3 months ago

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🚀 Space Cakes 🚀

Banner by me, made in Canva w/ Jake's and the brownie's pics sourced on Pinterest. The specific brownie is a called cosmic brownie and I highly recommend you try them (fudgy brownies with m&ms/smarties!!)

Jake Jensen x curvy!f!reader

WARNING: This fic not only contains smut but also consumption/use of marujuana. If that's not your bread and butter (or if you are a minor) please do not read. Not beta'd and I don't give permission for my work to be reposted, translated, copied or put through AI!

Additional Warnings/tags: Jake being high, Jake being a dork, Jake being adorable, friends to lovers bc I can't help myself, breast/nipple play, oral (f recieving), vaginal fingering, clit play/teasing, squirting, p-in-v (wrap it!!), creampie, sofa sex again (woo!), overstimulation, crying from overstimulation, (accidental) pleasure!dom!Jake, pussy drunk Jake (when is he not though?), needy Jake, multiple orgasm (RIP your sofa), dub-con kinda, petnames (baby, sweetheart), lil bit of possessiveness teehee

Summary: After eating two brownies, Jake goes on a trip with you by his side.

Word count: 4.8k

Dividers by: @/thecutestgrotto Banners by: @/saradika-graphics

A/N: The image on the left is that of a cosmic brownie (and you can find the recipe for said picture here) since space cakes tend to be any cake variety. This was the first fic I wrote for the collection, but Ari one the poll. ENJOY 😈Forget-me-not Blues will be out tomorrow xxx

Also, not an ad, but if you guys wanna smell like cinnamon rolls - Mallows beauty cinnamon swirl body oil. It's sparkly and smells divine... and was the inspiration for this ;)

Green Collection | Jake Jensen Masterlist | Navigation

Three day weekends were your favourite thing in the world. You'd wake up late, make yourself your favourite breakfast before beginning your self care ritual.

Occasionally, it starts with baking a batching of extra special brownies; if there's none left in your freezer. Boring box mix elevated with a shot of coffee, eggs and extra chocolate chips. Not forgetting your melted cannabutter to make them special.

Once the brownies are out of the oven and marked into twelve equal squares, you can go about enjoying the rest of your day, starting with your weed-kend ritual.

The ritual begins with you washing your face with warm water before picking out a face mask whilst your brownies bake. Today, you choose a bentonite clay mask that smells like a strawberry milkshake, setting a timer to wash it off and take your brownies from the oven.

Then you go upstairs to shower. You give yourself the works; washing and conditioning your hair with a hair mask, shaving your legs and underarms. You're singing along to more of your favourite songs as you wait for the timer for your hair, thinking of how to plan the rest of your day. You'd get out the shower, moisturise, maybe paint your nails and set up a movie before eating a brownie and ordering a big, fat take out when the munchies kicked in.

Oh these long weekends were good.

If only you had someone to share them with.

When you exit the steamy shower you notice a text on your phone from your friend Jake

Jensen 12:06

Hey! Hope your weekend is going well so far 🤠 Could I stop by later and drop off the games you lent me? They were a hit with the guys 🤠😎

You smile down at your phone. Seeing friends on your long weekends wasn't uncommon but today you'd wanted very limited social interaction and with Jake around it was unlikely to happen.

However, this was also Jake. Your favourite person in the world who loved using cowboy emojis and making you laugh. So long as he stopped by before you planned to scoff a brownie you'd be okay. Maybe you'd even offer him one.

You 12:08

Sure. Stop by before 5pm and I'll be here. ☺️

Jensen 12:08

:-)

You snort at his response and open your Spotify to your favourite mix of songs and pick up your new body oil from your bedside table. Cinnamon Swirl body oil smelled as good as it sounded and now you did too.

Once oiled and smelling divine you reach for your fluffy pyjama shorts and tank, feeling like the human equivalent to a pastry; fluffy, warm and smelling oh-so delicious, you headed downstairs to watch a movie while you waited patiently for Jake to arrive.

Jake arrives around three in the afternoon.

You're greeted by his smiling face when you open the door.

"Hey you," You grin, stepping aside to let him in.

"Hey." He bundles inside, almost tripping as he's distracted by your ass in your pyjama shorts as you close the door behind him.

You hold out your arms for the board games. "Gimme those, I'll go put 'em upstairs."

"You sure?" He asks as he places them into your arms, suppressing a shiver when your hands brush his. You peek up over the boxes at him. Even in your PJs you looked so damn adorable.

"Sure I'm sure. You know where the kitchen is, get yourself a soda or something." You wink, heading up the stairs with the boxes. "I'll be two minutes!"

Jake wanders into your small kitchen like he'd done so many times before, thinking about how he should broach the topic of asking you on a date. You were good together; he liked spending time with you, you liked spending time with him. Any little excuse he could use to see you he'd take it and anything to see that sweet smile of yours he'd gladly do.

The scent of brownies pulled him away from his thoughts of you and leaning past the fridge door he spotted the chocolatey goodness that seemed angelically highlighted before him. Your baking was top notch and the last brownies he'd had hadn't lasted two days in his home. He closed the fridge and picked up one; chomping it in two bites.

The face Jake pulled at the flavour was a cross between a grimace and utter disgust. It was thick and strong; all the excellent elements of a good brownie but tainted with a sickening taste that made him want to throw up.

So he ate a second in case it was just one bad brownie.

The result was exactly the same, unsurprising to everyone but his lovely self, but whilst he was contemplating how brownies could be this bad you reappeared from your board-game-putting-away duties.

"Jake," you begin eyes widening as you look at the brownie tray. "How many did you eat?"

"Oh... heh... well-"

"How many?" You urge growing more panicked.

"Like two. I think." He shrugs sheepishly. "Sorry, you know I love your baking."

"Ohmygod." You groan, covering your face with your hands. So much for a quiet weekend.

"I'm sorry Y/N. Were they special or something? I can help you make more." You peek at Jake through your fingers and he looks wrecked thinking he's upset you and you bite back a grin.

"Oh, they were special alright." You say, hiding your smile with a hand. "They were space cakes."

Jake blinks at you in confusion and you roll your eyes playfully.

"They're weed brownies, Jake."

His mouth hangs open, he points to the brownies, to you and then himself in a dramatic miming of "Them? For you? I ate them?"

"Um... okay." Jake sighs, hands on his hips. "I didn't want to tell you they tasted gross so I'm glad there's a reason."

"Why did you eat two then?" You snort and Jake smiles.

"I thought the second one would taste nicer."

You shake your head at him with a grin; your worry slowly fading. Jake would probably feel funny but ultimately fall asleep and you tell him as much.

"I've got plenty of snacks too, but maybe we can order a pizza when you get the munchies."

Jake nods, exhaling loudly. "Hooo boy. Okay. This is fine."

"Hey," you pat his bicep reassuringly and give him a smile. "I'll be with you the entire time. I'll stay sober and watch over you."

Jakes nervous smile falters as he takes a deep breath, admiring the features of your face. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.

"Thanks."

An hour later, Jake's brain was a smushed mess.

You'd insisted he lie on the sofa which started off as him lying one end and you on the other but over the course of the hour, he’d entirely encroached on your personal space. He’d ended up with his arms wrapped around you as he lay on top of you, anchoring himself to you and you'd allowed it because, well, you wanted him to be as calm and comfortable as possible since he was in for a wild ride tonight.

And because was the most perfect weighted blanket in the history of ever.

You'd put on some random comedy although, honestly, you weren't paying much attention. Your legs were tangled beneath Jake's with one hand resting against his back, the other absently raking through his blond spikes. This was a different kind of high altogether.

Survive the night, you tell yourself, admiring the man snuggled on top of you. Then figure out next steps.

Giggles erupted out of Jake suddenly, startling you from your thoughts.

"What are you laughing at?" You chuckle, running a hand through his hair absently. Jake's giggles only come harder, his whole body shaking as he snorts against you. Jake pants trying to catch his breath but starts laughing again as soon as he opens his mouth to speak.

You're grinning down at him now, his laughter is infectious and you're trying so hard to hold back your own laugh to figure out what set him off. However, when he buries his face into your chest to suppress a howl of laughter it immediately sets you off.

Your body begins to shake as you start laughing along with him. "What?"

His laughter dies down and he heaves heavy breaths as he looks up at you, red faced and grinning goofily with tear streaks running down his face.

"I don't know." He whispers, stifling another giggle. "That guy in the movie fell over and it - it -" He buries his face again to stop himself from laughing, only small giggles slipping through.

You chuckle a little and go back to stroking his hair. Jake sighs heavily as your fingers delicately massage the crown of his head. His face is half turned to watch the TV with puffy eyes and he's moulded his body to yours, his cheek squished against your boobs.

"Your boobs are comfy." He comments nonchalantly.

"Thank you." You grin, allowing your heart one little skip of excitement before turning back to the movie. After a few moments, Jake speaks again.

"Why haven't we done this before?"

"Done what? Get high together?"

"No," he huffs softly. "Cuddle."

"Well, I guess we've never really - um - talked about it."

"We can talk about it now."

Your lips twitch upwards. "You won't remember."

"Will too."

"Jake." You warn.

"Y/N." He sasses back. "You're comfy. I'm comfy. Your boobs are soooo comfy." He nuzzles against them, face first. His nose brushes along the edge of your tank, nudging the swell of your breast.

Your skin explodes into gooseflesh and your try to focus yourself, chanting that's he's not in his right mind over and over in your head. You genuinely think it won't go further; you know what it's like to admire soft things when you're high, which is why you were in fuzzy pyjamas to begin with. But when you feel his lips press a kiss against your skin you squeak.

"Jake!"

"Huh?" He looks up at you slowly, his brain in a daze. You're blushing furiously and you can feel warmth grow where it definitely shouldn't be right now. "What? You smell so good too."

When you don't argue with him he sinks further down your body, trailing tender kisses down your chest to the small exposure of skin between your pyjama top and the waistband of your fuzzy pyjama shorts that hug your hips.

"Cinnamony and warm and soft." He murmurs between kisses "Like a cinnamon roll."

He nuzzles against your skin, his goatee tickling you and making you squeal with laughter. Jake's hands run down your sides to hold your hips, keeping you in place. You can feel the cool metal of his glasses against your skin, and how he's smiling as he peppers more kisses along your stomach, on every inch of skin he can find.

"Jake." You sigh his name as your head falls back against the arm of the sofa. You can't tell if you want him to stop or continue, each kiss making your skin tingle and your stomach swoop.

You shriek in surprise when his hot tongue glides up to your sternum, pushing your shirt up with him.

Jake smacks his lips with confused delight. "You taste like one too."

Giggling, you cup his cheeks in your palms, guiding his face to look at you. He melts into your palms, letting his cheeks push up so he can give you a dopey chipmunk expression that earns him another laugh. Behind his glasses his blue eyes are red-rimmed and glisten with adoration when they meet yours. Your heart beats frantically as you try to smile sweetly at him.

"Fuck it." You huff. "C'mere."

You cup his face and bring it closer to yours, smashing your lips against his hungrily. To your surprise, Jake doesn't seem shocked, immediately melting into the kiss as if it were second nature; like you'd be doing this for a lot longer than thirty seconds. His goatee tickles at your skin but you're too lost in his taste, the scent of his funky aftershave fills your nostrils but on your tongue he tastes like chocolate and weed. It's a strange combination of flavours but you think it just might be your new favourite.

Jake's hands wander up and down your sides as he shifts on top of you, eagerly kissing you back. Tonight was going better than planned. The cotton-wool-brain that edibles gave you was nothing compared to the high Jake was giving you. You shift your legs against his, the rough of his jeans against your soft oiled legs a delicious contrast, especially when you can feel how hard, and big, his cock is as he lies on top of you.

"Ah fuck, I always imagined you'd taste sweet." Jake murmurs against your lips, pushing his body into yours.

"Really?" You giggle back, biting your lips to hold back a smug grin.

Jake nods enthusiastically, dislodging his glasses so they hang haphazardly off his face. You fix them for him as he continues to talk, smoothing your hands across his face.

"And if I'm right about that," He mumbles against your lips. "Then I bet I'm right about you having the sweetest pussy on the planet too."

"Christ," you sigh, feeling your clit throb at his confession. Jake lifts his head slightly, his expression is sheepish but his skin is fire engine red with embarrassment.

"Aw, shit. Sorry. That was supposed to stay inside my head."

"That's alright." You peck his lips again and wiggle your hips to get comfortable beneath him, his cock nestled against your thighs and stomach. "Keep going."

Jake let's out a breathy sigh as you shift. "I can?"

You nod and he breaks into a grin, fixing his position, cementing you against his body as he moves to kiss you again; hands freely wandering and groping all flesh it can find. His hands inch higher and higher until he's finally able to graze a pebbled nipple under your top. You jump at the sensation with a short gasp hearing a murmured "Sorry" from Jake as he does it again before cupping your tit entirely and giving it a squeeze.

Jake's hand continues to squeeze and massage your tits before he drags his thumbs across your nipples as he kisses you, repeating the motion over and over when you moan into the kiss, watching your eyes flutter against your flushed rosy cheeks.

When you stifle a moan, he tweaks it instead, watching your face contort with pleasure. He continues for a while, teasing your nipples and cupping the soft flesh until he pinches a little too hard.

"Ow," you hiss when he pinches too hard, grimacing slightly. It half snaps you out of your growing stupor.

"'M sorry, baby." Jake coos. "Here, let me kiss it better."

Before you can stop him, his head is under your top kissing and sucking at your abused nipple, his other hand capturing your unattended tit and squeezing it like he had for your left. One of your hands threads into his hair, the other grips his shoulder as he swirls your nipple with his tongue. Lustful brain fog starts to creep in as you shift under him again, arching your back slightly as he continues to shower your tits with attention.

"What? Your boobs are so perfect. Just had to kiss 'em." He pecks at your left nipple before going to your right. "I've always wanted to suck 'em too."

"Jake." You pant, squeaking as he tweaks your right nipple now, grazing his thumb over the hard nub. He releases your left breast with a wet pop and when he raises his head to look at you, you can see his shiny spit all over your skin. The cool air of the room doesn't help the hardness of your nipples nor does Jake's continuous squeezing.

You let out a long sigh trying to compose yourself but the need for him is becoming too overwhelming to ignore. After the way he's made your panties a mess just by sucking your tits, you don't think you could refuse him anything else; especially with how with tongue had swirled around your nipple...

He mumbles something into your tits that you can't make out and you look down at him.

"Hmm?"

"Eat. You. Out." He breathes, peeking up at you, his glasses fogged with condensation. "Please? I just wanna taste."

"Christ, Jensen." You hiss but his eyes don't leave yours. "You're high as a kite this can't be a good idea."

"If you think I'll regret it in the morning, just ask me to do it again." He pleads with a pouting expression. "Hell, I'd let you sit on my face all day if you asked me."

You stare at him wide eyed. Your chest constricts and you can feel said pussy squeezes around nothing.

"Really?"

"Really really." He looks up at you dreamily. "I love thinking about how hot you'd look cumming over my face."

Your chest thuds and you swallow thickly, trying to remind yourself not to think with your clit right now. However, as always, Jake has to open his big mouth again. "Oh. Oops." Jake says blinking slowly. "That was another inside thought I think." When Jake gives you another one of those cute, goofy smiles your resolve crumbles. Your poor pussy is aching for his cock and you are in no position to be turning it down. Plus he did say please.

You sigh and nod. "O-okay. Sure."

Jake's demeanour suddenly shifts up a gear, far more excited than you'd ever seen him and it makes heat rise up your neck.

"You're sure?" He asks, squeezing at your hips.

"You said I could ask you to do it again," You tease back quietly, your cheeks burning so hot you could most definitely fry eggs on them. "I think I may take you up on it if you're good."

Jake's nostrils flare and his eyes blow into saucers. "I did. I meant it. I swear to God 'm gonna make you feel so good baby."

Jake wastes no time in tugging your pyjama shorts down to your ankles along with your damp panties. As he moves your legs out wider, on impulse you keep them closed causing Jake to pout at you. You can feel the cool air kissing at your thighs and your clit tingles when you think about how not only will Jake see your leaking cunt but taste it too.

"I can't eat when your legs are closed." Jake whines, pushing at your knees gently. "Open up."

His eyes are pleading but he's still being so sweet that you concede with a small smile. As your legs fall open before him, you catch the hungry look he's giving your pussy and the way he licks his lips. He's practically drooling at the sight, sending shockwaves of pleasure to all of the right places. "You okay?" You ask when he's not moved.

His eyes flicker to yours. "Yeah. You just -..." He trails and shrugs off a small laugh. "You've got the prettiest pussy I've ever seen."

Heat surges and you fight back a slew of curses at the compliment.

"Right now it's all yours."

"I... Yeah, I know." He sounds so bewildered, even when he drags an index finger through your warm folds up towards your clit. You gasp at the suddenness, but it quickly devolves into panting when he begins to circle your clit with his thumb. your body jerks at his touch but takes seconds for you to unravel. Clearly, him making out with you and playing with your tits had you wound up so much you were ready to cum already.

Jake shuffles down, kissing each of your thighs before swiping his tongue the same way his finger had. His strong arms loop under your thighs and hold them open as he laps at your cunt like there's no tomorrow.

"Oh fuck yes." He rumbles against your clit. "So sweet for me."

He latches onto your clit before you can respond, suckling gently at first before rolling your sensitive pearl on his tongue. He only ever breaks to drag breathy stripes up your slit before burying himself back at your clit. You cum so quickly you don't even know it's happening until your hips jerk upwards into his mouth and you shout his name, not that it deters Jake in the slightest, who continues to sweetly kiss and lick your dripping hole and clit like they're the best dessert he could have asked for. His arms push you thighs apart further so he can make out with your pussy at a far better angle.

You're back on edge moments later, gripping his short blond hair like a lifeline when you cum again, his arms stopping you from wriggling away from him when the pleasure becomes too overwhelming for you to handle. You can half hear your own voice moaning his name mixed with curses as your back arches off the sofa and you almost cum a third time when you feel a finger slip inside you, curling against that spongy spot.

Sweat makes your hair stick to your skin and you can't focus as Jake keeps you on that edge longer this time. Time has bled away and you've completely surrendered yourself to this position; the pleasure almost too much with your clit throbbing angrily, begging for another release.

"Jake pleeease." You whine desperately, your need for orgasm orgasm growing as he sucks and slurps at your clit noisily.

"I know, I know." He mumbles, licking through your folds. "I'm being greedy. I want another one."

Your eyes roll so far back you're sure you see the puddle your brain has become. He slips another finger into your cunt, not only curling both fingers but pumping them vigorously, forcing you to cum hard over his face and fingers with a keen of his name.

Without removing his fingers, relishing in how your pussy convulses around his fingers, he sits back to admire his handiwork. You're a hot mess. Your cunt is shiny with cum and spit but Jake's eyes are wide with a drunken hunger, licking his lips as his thumb brushes over your swollen clit. You moan loudly and your pussy twitches and trembles at his touch, just like how his cock does at the sight and sound of you.

No words are needed as Jake undoes his belt with one hand, easily working the fly of his jeans down too. The touch of your hand on his hard cock makes him hiss as you help him guide it to your drenched cunt. You both suck in a breath at the same time as the head of his cock breaches your tight hole and Jake stops.

"Fuck...." He whispers, looming over your body. "Jesus Christ I might cum already. You feel amazing." When he bottoms out fully, he looks down to your connected bodies, his cock twitching against your velvet walls and you struggle to keep your moans to yourself.

"Look at that baby," he coos. "You're a perfect fit."

Your eyes flutter, hands blindly reaching for his shoulders to pull him back to you. Your eyes meet his and you're done for, fingers curling into the hair on the nape of his neck as you drag him down to meet your lips in a hungry kiss. He swallows every sound you offer him, beginning to move his hips against yours in a steady motion. His tongue tastes like your cum and a hint of chocolate and it drives you feral, hooking a leg over his hips to allow him deeper into your aching pussy. You know it won't take long to cum again and tell him as much.

"Keep making all those pretty noises." He urges, trailing kisses along your neck. "Be nice and loud for me."

You keen his name helplessly, eyes half lidded in ecstastatic pleasure, clawing at his back and squeezing his hips with your legs.

"Hey now," Jake trails kisses against your neck and you can feel the curve of his smile against your skin. "No fair. I can feel your pussy milking me and trying to make me cum."

"Mmhmm, made for your cock." You whimper pathetically, thoughts running wild with lust, hands clawing blindly at his back under his cartoon tee. "Just please please please cum."

"Made for me, huh?" Jake sighs wistfully, filling you to the brim slowly enjoying the way your ruined cunt still spasms and welcomes him in. "Damn fuckin' straight you are."

Your pussy convulses at his cursing, so unused to hearing filthy, possessive praise tumble from his lips. You're used to his terrible flirting, to his cheesy pick up lines and his general dorkiness that made your heart flutter. His awkwardness was what made Jake Jake.... but this side of him had your pussy soaked and brain mangled beyond comprehension. You were feral for this confident rendition of the guy you'd been crushing on.

"Jake I can't take anymore please," you beseech him, torn between sobbing at the overstimulation and cumming again. "Please cum!"

"Just like that," He growls, rutting into you harder, the continuous schlick of his cock repeatedly burying itself deep within your soaked, ruined pussy making you squeeze harder and moan loudly.

"Gimme one more, baby." Jake urges, fucking into you faster and peppering your dazed face with soft kisses. "One more and I promise I'll cum with you."

"Mmngh - please."

"Uh huh. You've been so patient, I've just gotta have one more so I can fill you up."

"Oh fuck!" you grip his shoulders like a vice as your orgasm wracks your body so hard all the breath is stolen from your lungs. Your cunt gushes and your thighs tremble, your moan sounding more like a choked sob of Jake's name. As promised Jake follows not long after with a loud groan, painting your walls white and letting your pussy milk him dry before collapsing on top of you, heaving breaths.

You're half dazed, the heat of the room unbearable. You need about three dozen cold showers to wash away the sin your bodies have wreaked.

And maybe a new sofa.

"Oh man," Jake mumbles, his body radiating heat and a silky sheen of sweat. "You felt - You were -"

He takes a shaky inhale and sighs, sinking further onto you, his softening cock still nestled inside you. His brain was clearly struggling to keep up with everything that had just transpired and you chuckle, wrapping your arms loosely around his torso and melting into the sofa.

You're pretty sure you both fall asleep for a good twenty minutes, although since you weren't timing how long Jake was fucking you for and your phone wasn't in reach it may have been even longer.

When you finally blink awake, you still feel bone-tired and legless, not helped by Jake's weight on you.

"We should shower." You whisper after a few moments, drawing circles over Jake's back, his head nestled between your boobs.

"Mmh. Probably." He says, voice quiet and muffled. You peek down and start to grin.

"You don't want to move do you?"

"No. I'm comfy."

"Even if I said we'd shower together?"

Jake untangles himself from you quickly and helps you to your feet, keeping you steady when your jellified legs wobble. With his hands in a gentle grasp around your waist he follows you upstairs to the bathroom, his hands never leaving your hips and the both of you smiling stupidly.

Turning on the shower is slightly more difficult when there's soft kisses to your shoulders and neck distracting you and any playful swats are wilfully ignored. Warm water streams down your bodies and you can't remember the last time you felt so relaxed until today; even with a space cake.

Jake's kisses make their way to your cheeks and the arms around you constrict a little tighter, making you giggle gleefully and your heart thunder slowly, your body too tired for any more excitement.

"Hey you," you chuckle dreamily, leaning back into him. "You've just had your fill."

"I know," he sighs, resting his head on your shoulder. "But I just can't get enough of you."

You peek a glance at him when he squeezes you and burst into laughter. In his excitement to shower with you he'd forgotten to remove his glasses, and they'd fogged up, making him look extra goofy.

"What?" He pouts. "I'm being honest!"

"No, goofball." You snort, gently pulling his glasses off his nose. "You looked stupid with your glasses all fogged up."

"Oh," he bites back a dopey smile and blinks water out of his eyes.

"I can't get enough of you either." You add quietly, standing on tip toes to kiss his lips sweetly.

"You can't?" He beams down at you, eyes twinkling.

You nod firmly. "Nope and I'm very glad you fucked my brains out. I say we watch another movie and cuddle... actually maybe we should put a towel down first."

"Ah but Y/N?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm really hungry." Jake looks sheepishly at you. "Can we order some pizza now?"

End

Taglist

@stargazingfangirl18 | @bridgetina | @irishhappiness

Tag yourself here.

#gremlin girly #gremlin girly writes #jake jensen smut #jake jensen the losers #jake jensen fanfiction #jake jensen x reader #jake jensen #jake jensen x y/n #jake jensen x you #chris evans characters #green collection

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lorewovenrp · 3 months ago

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Reliving Roleplay Fever with a Warrior Cat Adventure!

I started this Tumblr account because, like many of you, I’ve been feeling the weight of missing those amazing roleplay moments. You know the ones I mean—the times when everything just clicks, when the stories unfold in ways you never expected, and you’re fully immersed in a world you and others have built together. It’s always those special sessions, that one moment, or maybe a series of memories that you just can’t shake. You know what I’m talking about, right? I think we all have that one RP that we just can’t forget.

I want to get back into roleplay because it’s something I’ve always loved, and there’s just something about the creative energy and the stories we can tell with other people. I’m planning on still talking about roleplays and lore in general, because it’s so interesting seeing everyone’s perspectives and hearing other people's stories. But... I think I might start a roleplay again myself. If I do, it’ll probably be Warrior Cats-based, mostly because who doesn’t feel the nostalgia of being an angry little kitty again? It’s a world with so much to explore and create, and I just think it’d be a fun thing to dive back into.

That said, it’ll likely be a little while before it opens up because I want to get the website set up just right—proper coding, neat layout, all that. I also want to touch up my preexisting litter roll and make sure everything looks nice and polished before I officially launch.

So, if you're interested in joining or just want to hear more, please let me know in the poll! Even if there’s not a huge interest, I’ll definitely still go ahead with it because, honestly, world-building and character creation have always been my absolute favorite parts of roleplaying. No matter what, I think it’s something I’ll enjoy as a hobby.

I would share a pic of the litter generator but its kind of large and even zoomed out it doesn't all fit. I'll try to get a video of it at some point for those interested in that type of thing! Some cool features it currently has:

Genetic Inheritance: Picks traits from both parents or just one for variety!

Mutation Possibilities: Introduces mutation chances (e.g., 0.3-10%) for added surprises.

Fertility System: Adjusts the fertility rate based on genetics, affecting litter sizes and chances of success.

Chance Breakdown: Some traits have multiple chances within chances. For example, the eye roll might first give a chance for heterochromia, and then, if it rolls, it splits further—whether the left eye is mom’s, dad’s, or a random combination!

#warrior cats #roleplay #rp #erin hunter warriors #proboards #warriors #warrior cats roleplay #warriors oc #What do you want from a roleplay?#Should I make a discord?

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bangtanintotheroom · 10 months ago

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On the Nose (M)(Teaser)

I'ma put this pussy on your face

Open up boy, come and get a taste

🔊 just wanna - iggy azalea (spotify | soundcloud) 🔊

• Pairing: Dokyeom x (F)Reader

• Genre: Non-Idol!AU, Humor, Smut, Friends to Lovers

• Rating: 18+

• Words (teaser): 338

• Summary: Seokmin thinks his nose might be too big. You’re quick to give him reasons as to why he’s wrong.

• Warnings/themes: insecurity, reassurance, OC with the compliments 🥹, Seokmin getting carried away, face-sitting, oral (f. receiving), groping, multiple orgasms, overstimulation

• Notes: Since Mr. DK won the recent poll, I’ll be posting him next! I’ve had most of it done since it’s a short one, but I wanted to wait until the end of my vacation to do the teaser. Expect it to be out in the next few days! 🫡✨

• Teaser Notes: Teasers are a WIP and will not fully reflect the final draft, warnings and themes are subject to change. If you want to be tagged when the final draft is released, either leave a reply or shoot me an ask! PLEASE HAVE YOUR AGE PRESENT IN YOUR BIO OR YOU WILL NOT BE TAGGED.

• Taglist: @minttangerines @minisugakoobies @kiestrokes @chans-room @firesighgirl

Reminder that I have a permanent taglist if you’re interested in all future fics I post!

“Y/N?”

“Hm?”

“Is my nose too big?”

Your friend’s out of nowhere question made you pause your mobile game and look up in bewilderment. You found him standing in front of his dresser, head leaned in close to the mirror.

“What? No, it’s not.”

Seokmin hummed, the tone unconvinced.

“Are you sure? You can be honest with me, y’know.”

Frowning deeply, you set your phone down and rose from the bed to walk over and stand next to him.

“Seokmin, why would I lie? Your nose is fine. Did someone say something about it?”

“No…”

His trailing off did not deter you from digging deeper.

“Seokmin.”

Your biting tone and hard stare made him flinch, not wanting to feel your wrath.

“No one said anything, per se, but they were looking. Really hard.”

“Who?”

Seokmin’s reflection shrugged his broad shoulders.

“Multiple people. We’d be having a conversation and I’d just notice their eyes going to my nose at some point.”

“You know what else big noses are really good for?”

Seokmin turns to look down at you with curiosity and a hint of eagerness.

“What?”

You look up at him, face blank like a sheet of paper.

“Sitting on.”

He became a cartoon character immediately, eyes bugging and mouth flying open to let out a yelp while his hands covered his ears.

“Y/N! What?!”

“Hey—” You reached up to rip his palms down so he could hear properly. “—it’s true!”

“Is it, you…you…pervert? Or are you just making things up to make me feel better?!”

A scowl came across your face as you lightly punched his arm.

“I’m serious, idiot! Have you never heard of a girl using someone’s nose to get off?”

“No! Well, I mean, maybe, but I wasn’t paying attention if anyone did say that.”

Rolling your eyes, you crossed your arms and readied yourself to continue convincing him.

“It’s true, okay?”

Seokmin blinked before squinting his eyes.

“And who’s your source?”

You met him with nothing but passiveness.

“Me, myself and I.”

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iggyshippingcorner · 1 month ago

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1: alpha/alpha stobotnik (pre-canon) (word count: 1600)

[ here is my drabble for the poll from the other day! features: alpha stone, alpha robotnik, the death of an unnamed assassin (not super graphic), and robotnik's lack of care for stone's personal space. ]

When Agent Stone was assigned to Dr. Robotnik, he’d already heard enough rumours and hearsay to build a comprehensive dossier. Impossible to work with. Workplace hazard. Dangerous, a bully, a lunatic, aggressive. Uncontrolled. Several of his fellow agents, of multiple designations, had told him in confidence, huddled in the breakroom, that Dr. Ivo Robotnik was the most impossible alpha they’d ever had the misfortune of working with. An actual mad scientist. I mean, he’s brilliant, but he’s a right asshole. I heard Holly retired right after working with him. They actually let her leave, set her up somewhere in Mexico. And she only made it a week!

Stone had absorbed as much of the gossip as he could, compiling it all in a neat folder in his mind. He used to pride himself on his network of “friends” in GUN, people who were eager to share workplace drama with him because they didn’t see him as a threat. He’d never felt the need to posture or preen like the other alpha agents-- always found it far more useful to allow others to underestimate him, get comfortable with his neutral scent and his calm demeanour. Plus, if he’d been an arrogant, bull-headed alpha, he never would’ve been selected for Dr. Robotnik’s security detail.

The official facts, passed down to him from on high, are as follows:

Dr. Ivo Robotnik is a genius inventor, and one of GUN’s most prized assets, despite the fact that his contract with the organisation is about as sturdy as sand. His allegiance could be swayed with a strong enough tide, and GUN knew it.

GUN wants any possible crumbs of proof that Dr. Robotnik is working with foreign agencies or diplomats or anything suspicious, so that they can force him to take a more permanent contract.

Dr. Robotnik is a paranoid, highly territorial alpha who rules his den lab with an iron fist. His security detail has the highest turnover rate GUN’s ever had the misfortune of paying for. In the nine months Dr. Robotnik has been contracted to work with GUN, he’s gone through sixty-three agents from varying levels.

The longest lasting bodyguard assigned to him was another Special Agent with a lengthy military career and a knack for quiet violence. A beta, the file reports. GUN thinks he will fare even better-- counting on his status as an alpha to not be run off by Dr. Robotnik’s posturing.

( They want him to approach the doctor with a firm hand and a calming alpha smile. He’s done it before, technically, played at subterfuge and designation politics in the name of the US government. He could certainly do it again, but he knows without stepping a foot in Dr. Robotnik’s lab that it would certainly fail. )

Stone’s first few days on-site are some of the most fun he’s had since he was snapped up by GUN recruiters. The doctor is easily the most fascinating person Stone has ever met. His lab is sleek and impossibly modern, filled with technology that begs to be admired and praised. Every surface has been meticulously scent-marked, to the point that Stone suspects the doctor of using a synthesised pheromone. Maybe the drones come through and mist the place after hours. There is a very strict “no touching” policy on most worktables, equipment, and the doctor himself. Stone commits every rule to memory as he familiarises himself with the lab and his circuit through and around it.

Dr. Robotnik pays little attention to him, seemingly, while he does his rounds. Stone catches glimpses of him working on a gutted chassis in the centre of the work floor when he passes through the main lab, back always turned, head lowered over the metal carcass suspended on the rig. Sometimes he’s welding, huge goggles pulled down over his face. But Stone feels eyes on him everywhere in the lab. If it’s not Dr. Robotnik’s heavy, critical gaze on his back, it’s the curious, back-lit eyes of his many drones as they drift through the lab on their own missions. More than once, Stone has found a drone hovering just beyond his shoulder as he patrols the grounds outside the lab, a silent proctor as he scans the treeline and keeps himself a moving target.

Beyond the initial hazing attempt-- the doctor crowding him against the door and purposefully, aggressively scenting him before withdrawing and beginning to recite the lab rules at his slowly blinking visage-- Dr. Robotnik hasn’t spoken more than ten words to him by the end of the first work week. He gets the occasional comment as their paths cross but nothing beyond brief acknowledgment and dismissal. But that’s better than being thrown out on his ass, so Stone doesn’t falter. He continues patrolling, continues keeping his scent as bottled up as he can, continues his attempt at becoming a nearly invisible presence on the outskirts of the doctor’s senses.

The start of his second week is marked by a haphazard assassination attempt (!) that Stone takes joy in putting a bloody stop to. It’s a rare moment where he’s unaccompanied by one of the doctor’s drones, something he’ll later wonder if it was intentional, and the assassin is attempting to scale the shadowed back wall of the lab. Must’ve snuck in past the treeline. Stone watches impassively for a few seconds as the man clambers up onto the awning and begins trying one of the windows of the second floor. His gun is sitting comfortable and accessible at his hip, but he hasn’t had a good fight in too long, and a long-dormant protective urge is just beginning to stir inside his ribcage. He takes another look around. No drones. No view from the driveway. Just a camera up where the third story wall meets the overhang of the roof.

The would-be assassin doesn’t even realise he has company until Stone levers himself up onto the awning enough to circle a hand around his ankle and yank. He goes down with a choked yell, and Stone drops down to the ground below as the assassin topples over the side of the ledge. He hits the ground with a satisfying thud, and Stone takes pleasure in planting his foot on the cretin��s wrist, pinning it. He crouches to divest the assassin of the gun at his hip, dropping more of his weight on the fragile bones beneath him. Idiot’s still dazed by the fall and the surprise. Stone waits until comprehension finally dawns on him before flicking the safety off of his requisitioned gun and pressing the muzzle against the soft give of the man’s carotid artery.

“If you scream,” Stone drawls, letting go of his genial, polite mask in order to stare down at the rapidly widening eyes of the man beneath him, “I will blow your brains out.”

The man’s face twists in defiant anger, and his scent flares pungent and offensive. Stone wrinkles his nose even as the man snarls and makes a grab for the gun, which, really? It’s like no one trains assassins anymore. Stone squeezes the trigger as one hand fists around his tie, and the sound of the shot is louder than he would prefer for the relative silence surrounding the lab. He idly hopes the doctor soundproofed his main work room, and isn’t disturbed by the gunfire. Maybe Stone can get this all cleaned up and have his report together by the time Dr. Robotnik bothers to come looking.

He stands up, flips the safety back on. Deep breath, smelling blood and smoke and fire. Stone shakes himself slightly, letting the mask slide back over him as he leaves the body sprawled in the dirt in order to slip into the lab to search for cleaning supplies.

He’s just located the first floor maintenance closet when Dr. Robotnik’s voice comes from behind him. Stone turns and stands at attention, nose twitching slightly as the slightly acrid scent of motor oil and myrrh washes over him.

“You were in the Marines.”

It’s not a question, but the doctor doesn’t follow it up with anything else, so Stone inclines his head and replies, “Yes, doctor.”

There’s the faintest suggestion of a smirk on the doctor’s face. He draws closer and closer to Stone, who tilts his chin up and bares his throat in the most open display of submission he can manage, with the rapidly dwindling space between them. “Did they teach you that in the Marines?”

Stone blinks slowly, offers that polite, closed mouth smile he’s honed over the years, both curious and reserved. “Sorry?”

Dr. Robotnik scowls. “Don’t play cute, agent. Are you going to clean up your mess?”

Stone nods, and very bravely stands his ground when the doctor reaches out to straighten his tie, which was still slightly rumpled from being so rudely grabbed. His hands are warm, even through all the layers separating them. Stone takes careful, measured breaths, letting the doctor’s scent fill his senses as he tucks the tie back into place. Instead of taking his hands back when he’s done, Dr. Robotnik jabs a finger against his chest, hard enough to press Stone backwards into the doorframe. “Good. I don’t need GUN thinking I need more of you wretched government dogs sniffing around. One of you is enough.”

And then he turns and disappears down the hall, leaving Stone off-kilter and slightly breathless in his wake. If Stone ducks his head to sniff at his adjusted tie, catching another whiff of the doctor’s usually close-kept scent, well. There’s no one else around to judge him.

#stobotnik #iggy fic tag #abo #fic #yippee! finished this in mostly one sitting today and then cleaned it up for posting :3 #hope to get another one out tmrw before work... if all goes according to plan

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sister-lucifer · 7 months ago

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Taken To Another World

⊹₊⟡⋆A Multifandom Fantasy AU Themed 5K Celebration Writing Challenge⊹₊⟡⋆

Special thanks to @ghostboneswrites2 for inspiring this!

Interested? Keep reading!

There will be two prompts for each genre; a pair for fluff, a pair for smut, a pair for angst, and a pair for horror. Each prompt comes with its own criteria, so read carefully!

How To Participate:

Reblog this post (for reach! thanks!)

Pick a prompt (or multiple)

Write your fic

Post it and tag me (feel free to send it to me directly if I don’t see it!)

Use the tag #lucifer’s 5k fantasy challenge

The fandoms this challenge is open to are as follows:

Obey Me!, Creepypasta, Marble Hornets, Batman (and all related media), Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure (all parts), and any original characters/universes.

Don’t see your fandom? You’re still free to use these prompts (and please tag me if you do so I can see it,) but it unfortunately will not count as an entry for this challenge!

Rules:

Feel free to pick multiple prompts, but you cannot enter more than one fic per prompt!

The fics can be part of your own ongoing series, but they must be able to stand alone as their own piece without the additional context of the series

Please state which prompt you chose somewhere on your post

Feel free to cross post your work to another site such as Ao3, but please, do mention that it was part of my challenge

Anyone can participate in this challenge, however I ask that minors stay away from the NSFW prompts

You are free to bend the prompts as you wish, there is no mandatory time period or setting

My inbox and messages are always open if you need to ask questions, consult me, or just want to discuss ideas!

The fics can be Character x Reader, Character x OC, or Character x Character; relationships can be platonic or romantic as you wish

Some prompts are written with pairs in mind; feel free to modify this to fit in as many characters as you’d like. Poly relationships included!

Absolutely NO incest OR pedophilia under any circumstances

NO AI, NO using other people’s writing, and NO using a piece you’ve already written

Pay attention to the criteria! Prompt 1 will have a required quote, and Prompt 2 will have a required plot point/action

The Deadline is currently undecided. This will be updated soon

Winners:

I will choose up to 3 finalists for each prompt. The finalists will be presented in a poll, and the readers will choose the winner.

The winner of each prompt will get their own shoutout/promo post including an analysis of what I liked about their fic, & at least 3 fics I recommend from them and why.

Does all that sound like fun? Good! Here’s your prompts:

Over The River, Through The Woods…

Fluff + Faeries

Prompt 1: In a fit of rebellion, a naive royal flees from the castle and into the woods. They stumble upon a faerie who, against all they’ve ever been taught, seems rather…kind.

Necessary Criteria: “Anyone can do a good thing if they try.” / “Well…how often do you try?”

Prompt 2: Fae don’t often leave their villages, except to gather. Unfortunately, one foolish faerie has found themself entangled in a trap left behind by a human hunter. Even worse, the human has returned to see what they’ve caught; although, they seem far more curious than hostile.

Necessary Criteria: One of the characters teaches the other a new word in their native tongue.

Magic Begins In Superstition, And Ends In Science…

Angst + Alchemy

Prompt 1: The job of an alchemist’s apprentice is rarely an easy one. Magic is a fickle mistress, after all. When the apprentice’s companion tries to pull them away from their work, the argument gets heated, until the pressure becomes too much and causes an intense explosion…literally.

Necessary Criteria: “You’re not even smart enough to understand what I do, and you think you get to tell me when to stop working?!”

Prompt 2: The alchemist’s work is starting to consume them. Blinded by their pursuit of knowledge, they recklessly decide to slip a bit of their newest experimental concoction into their companion’s meal without their knowledge. The alchemist convinces themselves this is all for the greater good, and surely nothing all that bad could happen, but soon comes to regret it.

Necessary Criteria: A horrible transformation.

The Tongue May Be Twice As Sharp And Thrice As Lethal As The Blade…

Smut + Swords

Prompt 1: A rivalry between two swordsman gets a bit out of hand when the pair decide to make a salacious bet over a duel: whoever loses must play submissive to the other, starting from the moment they drop their sword.

Necessary Criteria: “Don’t think I’ll surrender that easily.” / “Mm, I didn’t think you would…I like it so much more when you’re fiery.”

Prompt 2: A courageous knight rescues a royal from the clutches of peril, and their majesty simply can’t let their hero leave without thoroughly rewarding them for such bravery.

Necessary Criteria: The pair narrowly avoid being caught in the act.

Cursed Is The Man Who Dies, But The Evil Done By Him Survives…

Horror + Hexes

Prompt 1: Foolish explorers accidentally wander into a witch’s garden. One of them can’t resist plucking a berry from a bush, not giving it a second thought as they swallow it down, only for the horrific consequences of a curse to start taking form the next day.

Necessary Criteria: “Please…you have to tell me you know how to make this stop.”

Prompt 2: While treasure hoarding is generally frowned upon among honorable bounty hunters, some simply can’t kick the habit. This quickly proves to be a terrible mistake, though, as a cursed trinket starts to warp its owner’s mind and plunge them into a darkness that turns them on the one they love most.

Necessary Criteria: Creative use of an everyday object as a weapon.

Final Reminders:

Most importantly: Have Fun!

Make sure to read the rules carefully!

You’re always free to ask questions!

Tag me in your entry + use the tag #lucifer’s 5k fantasy challenge!

Happy Writing, everyone!

(even if you don’t plan to participate, please reblog and share this post so others will see it!)

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corrieweek · 10 months ago

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❤️ ~ Hello all! ~ ❤️

Come join us in participating in Corrie Week to celebrate the wonderful Courasant Guard! The week will start on October 4th and end on October 10th or Fox Day (10/10)!

With a few months away, we're still setting up prompts for the days so if you are interested and have some ideas send them in through the form! Keep a look out by following the page or listed tags! we will be sending it out this following Monday (July 15th).

We will be using the tags #CorrieWeek and for this year #CorrieWeek2024

Just as a general interest check use the poll below to show us your interest to join!

Our page is always open to questions! Below the cut is more information about the event! VV

Canon characters, OCs, and/or both are all welcome to the party! We just ask that the Corries (Coruscant Guard) be the central point in any: ships, drawings, fics, or any medium you'd like to use.

Speaking of ships, we don't discriminate. Canon x Canon, OC x OC, Non-clone x clone, clone x reader, clone x clone, etc. We love and live for spreading the love for the Guard! ❤️

Hate will not be tolerated on this page or during this event. If you do not enjoy someone's ship you are welcome to curate your online experience - the Back Button is up top. Everyone is welcome, so please be civil. This is going to be a great and fun way to bond with others in the fandom over our favorite characters. So remember: Don't Be A Dick.

** NSFW content will be allowed during this event follow this link to see how to format it! Link to post

We allow all forms of creativity to be posted for the week as long as it follows the prompt for the day!

Artwork - traditional and digital is allowed with a minimum of a refined sketch

Writing - any fics/drabbles/ficlets need a minimum of 100 words

Cosplay - Share your cosplays with us! Please for privacy reasons anything that reveals your face, name, address or any other sensitive information to be covered up. We want this event to be fun and public but also protect and keep everyone's privacy. (Even if you are okay with showing your face please still do so for the event)

Crafts - sewing, metal, wood burning, carving, stamps, scrapbooks, knitting, felt, if you have a craft you love, share it with us!

Moodboards - single or multiple submissions are allowed!

Photography - with cosplay (same privacy rules apply as listed above) or action/lego figures create a scene with your favorite guards!

Mixed - you don't have to stick to just one! For an example if you can or want you can do a fic and a mood board!

If you do not complete a specific prompt or any during the time period, no worries! please still tag us in your works because we'd love to share! ❤️

Thank you for reading and we hope to see you during CorrieWeek!

#CorrieWeek #CorrieWeek2024 #coruscant guard #commander fox #commander thorn #commander thire #commander stone #sergeant hound #star wars #star wars events #fan run event #event week

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redrandomposts · 6 months ago

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IM SCREAMING NOT UNSHA'S WIFE DIY-ING HER OWN KPOP IDOL 😭 she's so valid for that tho i admit

unsha's wife : my little pet deserves to sing more bc hes more talented than any other pet out there but i dont want him to be killed in a singing death match bc thats just bad for business

unsha's wife : time to set up a new entertainment agency

unsha's wife accidentally causing the final downfall of alien stage the show bc aliens start to realise that it's better for business and overall entertainment to have their fave human pet idols not get killed onstage and instead are able to release new songs every few months 🧍 they learn the appeal of fanservice and fanmeets !! maybe anakt garden starts the trend of human pet idol groups by making the first survival show. 5050 on whether they kill the losers of the show however 🤷

(our levels of copium is incredible 😭)

till discovering ivan's still alive and speedruns the 5 stages of grief AGAIN. he blacks out and suddenly he has a concerning amount of illegally-acquired navi merch ? what is he DOING ?! he needs to get his shit together and find a way to get ivan out of there bc that's the least he could do ???

hyuna watching tillivan pine for each other from afar and questioning how her life has gotten to this point

— 🌦️

unsha behind his wife: so, like, how much money are we making here?

unsha's wife: what money?

*ivan raking in billions.*

unsha: ...okay, honey.

always listen to the wife, folks!

till, the #1 contributor to illegal ivan merch in the hideout. mizi is close at #2, but that's only because she's always accompanying till on his little... fibbits. I FORGOT WHAT IT WAS CALLED. till brings back so much that they have no choice to sell it... which increases their funds by, like, 270%. ivan the money totem?

for publicity, ivan wears multiple outfits and there's a poll each week to which one they make merch of... till manipulates the votes by getting hyuna to hack into the system and raise his favorite outfit's votes.

heperu sends luka to unsha's wife's company when he sees the success. ivan first meets luka on livestream, where it's like, surprise! here's your enemy from years ago! and they vibe together.

ivan will often give luka more food and then is like, "so where's the best place to disrupt the making of robots?"

guys im fixing luka too he needs to eat more (for the baby too).

the rebellion wanted to save ivan... and then luka showed up and hyuna and mizi is much more reluctant, like, ew it's the blonde twink why is he there?

sorry till your wife is being shipped with another man. what can you do.

#au idea #alnst ivan #alnst #alnst till #ivantill #tillivan #alien stage #alnst luka #s

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whatsk-poppinhomies · 2 years ago

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Pairing : Lee Minho x F!Reader x Bangchan TW : lots of arguing ; just a lot of angst ; also the baby is born but there's no time for going into detail ; it's all angst ; it’s another cliffhanger :’) ; Word Count : 5.4k Request : A lot, it's been requested a lot! AN : It won the poll, it's time for part two. IS THIS THE ANGST THAT YOU WANTED!?!?!? IS THIS WHAT YOU ALL WERE WAITING FOR?!?! I LOVE ALL OF YOU SM!

Things were silent… Maybe too silent, eerily even, but you attributed it to the fact that the guys had a comeback coming up and they were just too busy pretending that everything was okay so that the press and the fans wouldn’t come up with their own speculations and rumors. No one thought anything of the fact that the choreographer planned every single dance to keep Minho as far away from Chan as possible. No one even realized it. The tension that was felt between the two, the looks that they’d give each other, either no one picked up on it, or they just thought it was part of the bad boy concept that they had right now. You knew… The other guys knew, everyone that was close to them knew what was really going on… But no one knew just how bad it could get.

“I’ve gone to my lawyer.” Minho snarkily remarked as he walked past Chan. The comeback was done, they had done great, they had amassed multiple rewards, and reality was finally setting back in for the two of them. “I just thought that I’d let you know so that you can’t flake out on the hearing under the pretense that you didn’t know anything about it. I’m telling you right now, it’s going to court.”

It was becoming enough for Chan, it had become enough the day that Minho had come to your house and upset you, but now it was going too far. “Why can’t you leave well enough alone? What are you trying to gain from this? She’ll never take you back, you need to accept that and move on with your life.” Always the peacekeeper unless he had no other choice, Chan tried to keep his emotions in check and under control. You were getting further along in your pregnancy and the last thing that you needed was another situation like before to stress you out.

“I’m not the kind of man that’ll sit by and watch another man raise my child, especially my daughter. I have values.” He stated as if it were a well known fact, but Chan could only laugh, the loud snort sounding out in the studio at the proclamation. “I hope you don’t get too attached…” Minho continued, completely ignoring Chans cackling. “If you and Y/N won’t let me see her, and if Y/N won’t take me back… I’ll just fight for full custody.”

That statement had Chan choking on his own breath as he inhaled sharply, his eyes widening to look up at Minho. “You’re joking? Tell me you’re joking. That’s fucking evil, even for you. You’d really be petty enough to take away Y/N’s child just because she won’t get back with you?” But the only response Minho gave was a coy smile as he slowly backed out of the room. “I won’t let that happen…”

“You’ve got a couple more months to think about it… To let her know. What’s more important to her?” It would be a double edged sword, no doubt about it. It was the most vicious ultimatum, and Chan didn’t think that anyone would be low enough to do something like that, to threaten someone with something like that, but clearly Minho was lower than the average person when he strived to get what he wanted.

“Fuck…” Chan mumbled, leaning back in his chair, his hands over his face as he tried to think about what to do. This wasn’t something that he could just bring up to you in casual conversation. You were in a fragile state, the smallest thing could work you up, and this was not a small thing. This was too much for even Chan to handle, he didn’t know what to do, but he knew that he needed to let you know. He wasn’t going to lose his daughter, and he surely wasn’t going to lose you.

“You’re home early. I thought you were at the studio?” You spoke from the kitchen, clicking off the burner, and before Chan had even finished taking off his shoes, you were waddling over to him. “What’s wrong?” You deadpanned, and Chan thought that he was hiding his emotions well, but you could read him like a book, it was something that he loved about you, but right now, he wished that he could have just let you eat your dinner in peace before dropping the bomb.

“Nothing, darling. Just stressed about a new song.” He lied, fingers crossed in the sleeve of his jacket as he took it off, hoping that you’d believe him. “Come, eat your dinner, I’ll tell you all about it.” He smiled at you, but he could see the suspicion in your eyes, but you let him lead you to the kitchen, pulling out your chair for you and waiting for you to sit down before plating up the food you had been cooking. “My girls are hungry, yeah?”

“Christopher…” You said his name sternly, yet still graciously accepted the plate he put in front of you, giving him a smile of appreciation before letting it drop and watching him take the seat across from you. “I’ve seen you stressed from working on new songs… That isn’t what this is. Be honest with me, please? Is it something I need to know? Is it about… him?” Him… He who shall not be named… Minhos name hadn’t been spoken in your house since that day he came over. You looked at it as a bad omen, like if you said it, he’d show up.

“Please eat first…” Chan responded softly, using his own fork to pick up the food on your plate and bring it to your lips, and even while stressed, he gave himself a small second to adore the way your eyes rolled yet your mouth still opened for the food. “I’ll tell you all about it, but I want to hear about your day first. How are you feeling? How’s our girl?”

You sighed, leaning back in your chair and running your hands over your stomach. “I got another stretch mark today…” You mused, although your nose scrunched up while saying it. You hated the stretch marks, but Chan thought they were beautiful, just another sign to show how amazing you were. “She’s been kicking around a lot… I think she’s trying to break out.”

He chuckled lightly, thankful for the small talk, thankful for these little images that your words filled his mind with momentarily to take his mind off of what was bothering him. “Ah, it’s getting a little too cramped in there for baby girl, isn’t it?” He joked, and your eyes lifted up with your smile as you nodded in agreement. “Just two more months and she’ll be home, free to kick about as much as she likes.”

“Two months…” You said, almost dreamily, your head tilting to the side, and he could tell that you were picturing it, the way your eyes sparkled and your hands absentmindedly continued to rub over your stomach. “I know she can’t wait to meet you… Every time she hears your voice she starts moving more. I think she’s just as excited as you are.”

Hearing you say that should have had him even more excited, but now his heart sank as what Minho said earlier replayed in his mind. How was he even supposed to begin telling you? How could he look you in the eye and completely shatter those dreams that fluttered like butterflies in your beautiful mind? “About… that…” Chan said softly, nervously, his head dropping. He didn’t want to see you cry, he couldn’t. “Mi…- He… Came to see me at the studio today…” He felt the floor begin to vibrate as your knee bounced, anxiously waiting for him to finish saying it. “He’s taking it to court… He said that… If you won’t get back with him… Or if you won’t let him see her… He’ll fight for full custody.”

You were completely frozen and Chan worried, he worried about what you might think, what you might do. Would you try to run? Try to hide? He couldn’t let you do that. “I guess… We’ll just have to… Get our own lawyer then?” You whispered, your voice cracking with each word, your eyes turning up to the ceiling as your teeth came down on your bottom lip. You were trying not to cry, and Chan realized at that moment that he might have disliked the sight of you actually crying, but he really hated the sight of you trying to hold it back.

“Darling… I promise… I swear… He won’t win. Our daughter is going to be here with us, and I’ll be here too.” He reached across the table to grab your hands that sat loosely on his own. You were too far in your own thoughts now, so far that he couldn’t pull you back out, not yet. “How about we finish our dinner, and then we can watch the new episode of that show you love… Hm? How’s that sound?”

Your shoulders shrugged, your eyes downcast now as you twirled your thumbs. “I’m not very hungry anymore…” You mumbled, pushing yourself away from the table and getting up. “I think I just… I just want to go to sleep. I’m tired…” You pressed a kiss to the top of Chans head, and he could just feel it, radiating off of you, the way you slouched over and walked so slowly, yet so heavily towards the bedroom. You were devastated, you were scared, and that made him want to fight harder to keep his family together.

///

“Christina Chana Bang, Stray Kids leader, Bangchans daughter's birth was announced today by JYPE…” The headline was longer than that, but Minho had stopped after finding out what he needed to know. His daughter was finally here, and he wasn’t a villain, he’d give you time to heal, he’d give the baby time to get back home… He’d give you a little extra time to think… But if things didn’t work out the way he wanted them to… He’d soon be meeting his daughter, and he’d be changing her name as well.

It felt like more of a slap in his face that his daughter seemed to be almost directly named after Bangchan… You all did this on purpose, to spite him, to piss him off more. Well, you got the reaction that you wanted. “Maybe you should try to just calm down a bit?” Jeongin recommended, awkwardly fiddling with the remote after pausing the news while the headline was still written in bold black letters at the bottom of the screen.

“Calm down a bit? Sure, I mean, that’s easy for you to say… It’s not your kid carrying some other guy's last name… And first name… No… You just don’t understand.” Minho said sarcastically, drumming his hands on his lap as his nostrils flared and his teeth gritted together. “I’ll just go up there and talk to him myself… I don’t fucking care.”

As soon as Minho was off the couch, Jeongin had moved to stand in front of the door, making sure he didn’t leave. “I… I don’t think that’s a good idea. There’s a bunch of cameras and reporters and… And if you make a scene, it’ll look really bad.” Jeongins eyes flashed around the room, but none of the other guys were home, they had all gone up to the hospital to congratulate you and Chan. Why was Jeongin left in charge of Minho? He wasn’t quite sure, but now he was really cursing himself for agreeing to it.

“Like I said… I don’t care.” Minho snapped, trying to move Jeongin out of the way, but the maknae was holding his ground, his arms stretched out to completely block off the door. “Who’s side are you on? If this were happening to you, I would let you go. That’s my kid, Jeongin… I need to go see her.”

“B-But Chan hyung is up there too…” Jeongin nervously retorted, trying to avoid Minhos dagger like eyes as they stared at him. “Don’t you think… Maybe you should just… Let Y/N and the baby rest. If you need to talk to him, you should just… Maybe just call him? I’m sure they’ll let you see the baby soon and… Well, there’ll be a lot of pictures taken of her too.” His attempt at keeping the peace was both a long shot, and it didn’t work at all.

“I should have been the one up in that hospital anyway.” Minho hissed, his anger only growing with the younger boy's defiance and everyone seeming to be okay with just accepting his baby as Chans. “Look… I love you… You’re my brother… But if you don’t move out of the way, I’m gonna have to move you myself.”

Was it a threat? Jeongin wasn’t sure, but he remembered the way Minho had hit Chan when he was angry enough, and he didn’t really want to go through that, so he hesitantly stepped away from the door, his head dropping shamefully. “Please don’t do anything stupid… It won’t help you… It won’t help anyone.”

Minho scoffed, pulling the door open with such force that it slammed against the wall. “Don’t try to preach to me, I know what I have to do, and I don’t need anyone else’s help to do it.” And with that final statement, the door was being whipped shut, sending a vibration through the walls that Jeongin could feel in his back as he leaned against it.

“Oh no, oh no…” Jeongin muttered to himself as he backed away from the door, pulling his phone out of his pocket and dialing Chans number only for it to go to voicemail. “Dammit…” He huffed, his mind feeling far too jumbled right now, unable to even completely focus on what he had to do. He knew that if Minho got up there, if Minho got through those doors, it would be a shit show for everyone. “Hyung…” Jeongin sighed when Chan finally answered his phone on the fifth round of calling. “He… He might already be there… But he’s coming… He’s coming.”

It wasn’t rocket science, Chan knew exactly who Jeongin was talking about. “Hm… Thank you…” Chan muttered, and he could hear you in the background, although distant, he could hear the worry in your tone as you questioned who Chan was talking to. “Don’t worry about it, darling. It was just one of the staff calling to congratulate us.” Chans lying came so easily now, and he didn’t feel good about doing it, but if it meant protecting you and his daughter, he’d continue.

“I’ll text the guys to let them know… So you can stay in the room with Y/N… And I’ll head up there too. I’m sorry I let you down…” Of course, Jeongin was filled with guilt for letting Minho walk out that door, but he was scared, he was so scared… But now that he thought about what could happen if Minho got up to the hospital and made it to your room… That fear was tripled.

Chan sighed softly, and Jeongin could imagine him shaking his head. “You didn’t let me down… I wouldn’t want you on the receiving end of Minhos anger anyway. Just let the guys know what’s going on…” His tone was so hushed, and Jeongin could hear the sound of a bathroom fan, and he knew that Chan had gotten as far away from you as possible so he could speak without you worrying. “Just be careful on your way up here, okay? You still have to meet your niece.”

///

“I’m gonna head down to the cafeteria with the guys to get something to eat… Do you want anything? Do you want one of them to stay here with you?” Chan asked as he stepped out of the bathroom, and you could feel some kind of tension coming from him, but you assumed it was just because he had witnessed you giving birth and… Well, he did almost faint, so he was probably still just coming to terms with what had just happened and what the next couple years would look like.

You shook your head, letting out a yawn as you nestled into the bed. “The nurses have Chana, I think I should… really take advantage of that and get some sleep.” You murmured, your eyes barely even opened as you talked to him. “I love you… You should try to get some sleep when you come back up too… We’ve got a long couple months of nights ahead of us.” You joked, and Chan wanted to laugh, he really did, but those nights were seeming to be more of a distant dream now that he knew Minho truly wasn’t giving up.

“Yeah… I will… I’ll get some sleep. I’ll let the nurses know that you’re resting if I see them on my way down.” It was hard to hold himself together. Had Minho already shown up? Was he there? “I love you, dream sweetly, darling.” He quickly walked over to the bed, leaning over to kiss your forehead before rushing back to the door. “I’ll be back up soon.”

Walking out of your room was hard. Minho was… He was like a villain in a horror movie. No one knew where he was at right now, he could be on his way up to the room while Chan and the rest of the guys make their way down. He didn’t want Minho alone with you, not that he worried you’d get hurt, he just didn’t want Minho to sway your mind. “Seungmin is in the front lobby of the building, he already let security know what’s going on…” Felix said, patting Chans shoulder to not only reassure him, but to show him that they were all going to stand beside him through this.

“I’m just tired… Tired of everything.” Chan muttered, exasperation clear in his voice as he ran his hands over his face. “Today should be the… The happiest day of my life. My fiancee just gave birth and… My daughter is here… And instead of being in that room with her, I’m on my way down to hopefully keep her ex from getting in. It’s just… It’s exhausting.” His heart was on his sleeve, every single emotion that had been pent up over the last couple months was finally being poured out. “He’s threatening to take us to court… He’s gonna try to take her away from us.”

Not only did Felixs mouth fall open, but the other guys who were listening shared the same reaction of shock. “You didn’t tell us that… Why didn’t you let us know?” Felix inquired, truly upset that Chan hadn’t filled him in on just how bad things were getting. “We… We’ll do whatever we can to help… We’ll be beside you… You and Y/N…”

It was a sweet sentiment and of course Chan appreciated it, but he didn’t want all of the guys to turn against each other, he didn’t want this to hurt their friendship. That’s why he had kept it hidden for so long. “No… It’s fine. If he feels attacked or threatened he’ll only be worse. He needs to know… Or at least assume that he has someone in his corner, as awful as that sounds.” Chan relented, taking a deep breath and then clearing his throat as his lips pursed into a tight line. “I can’t let this affect the group, STAY would be devastated to know what was going on…”

And no one could disagree with that, so they had to back down. No one outside the group could truly know what was going on because it would ruin everything that they had worked so hard to achieve. “Has Seungmin texted you or tried to call you or anything?” Jisung asked, nervously chewing on his bottom lip as he leaned against the wall in the hallway.

Chan wasn’t sure, he hadn’t felt his phone vibrate, but then he remembered that he had turned his phone off while in the room so that the baby could sleep and you could rest. “Shit…” He mumbled, pulling his phone out of his pocket and seeing the multitudes of texts and missed calls from Seungmin. “For fucks sake…” He muttered, reading through the texts that were urgently written and misspelled, letting Chan know that Minho had shown up, and he was still sitting in the waiting room, and he was pissed.

“Do you want us to go down with you?” Hyunjin whispered, sheepishly twiddling his thumbs as if he were hoping for Chan to say no, and while he hadn’t actually said it, his head shook in response. “We’ll stay up here and guard the door then… Make sure he doesn’t get in.”

///

“This is fucking ridiculous and you know it, Seungmin!” Minho shouted from his seat in the waiting room, the only thing keeping him from storming up to your room was the security guards that stood in front of him. “That’s my baby! I have the right to see her as her father! Why are you doing this? Why are you protecting him?!” Minho continued, looking between the guards to glare at Seungmin who stood a little further away, his eyes intermittently glancing behind him, waiting for Chan.

“I’m just doing what’s right by Y/N and Chana…” Seungmin mumbled, and Minho rolled his eyes at the name that his daughter had gotten, a name that he couldn’t wait to change. “You forfeited your title as her father when you cheated on Y/N… I don’t think it’s fair that you’re coming in here trying to ruin the moment that Chan hyung and Y/N have been so excited to have.”

“Thank you, Seungmin…” Chans voice came from behind the younger boy who had never been so relieved to see his hyung. “You can go back up with the other guys now… I’m sorry about all of this.” Seungmin grumbled incoherently under his breath, clearly annoyed with everything that was going on as he walked away, leaving Chan and Minho to once again face off. “You’ve got a lot of nerve showing up here right now.”

“You’ve got a lot of nerve being the one to take my spot beside her as she delivered my child.” Minho threw it back to Chan, and they both were already on edge, prepared for anything that might happen. “I don’t know how long you think I’ll let this continue… But I’m going to get her back, and I’ll have both of them. I’ve let you have your fun, I let you hang around while she was pregnant, but I think it’s fine time for you to go back to your place and let her real father take over.”

There was nothing more infuriating than Minho constantly throwing in his face that he wasn’t Chanas real father, and he knew that the only reason Minho did it was because it was the only thing that could truly get under Chans skin. “I am her father. She’s got my last name, I cut her cord… I was the first person to hold her. She’s my child, whether you try to take her away or not. You’re not the only person who’s gotten a lawyer. I’m ready for whatever it is that you try to throw at us.”

Minhos jaw set, his teeth grinding together as his knee started to bounce. Minhos attempt at irritation was intentional, but Chans words had really set Minho off, whether it was on purpose or not. “She’s mine! They’re both mine, all mine. You’re stuck in some silly little fantasy world. Do you really think that Y/N will choose staying with you over having her daughter? Our daughter? I’ll get her back, and I’ll have both of them, and you’ll have nothing. You could have made this easier on yourself, you should have… But you chose the hard way… And that’s on you.”

Chan was a leader, he’d do anything to protect the guys, and with that leader instinct, it made it easier for him to fall into the role of being a father, and a fiance. Along with those roles came the natural need to want to protect you and his daughter from any of the pain or heartache that Minho might cause, and he sure as hell wasn’t just going to let you or Chana be taken away from him, not without a fight. “The only one stuck in a fantasy is you, thinking that you’ll ever get them both back in your life. You’re an awful person, you were an awful boyfriend and you’d be an even worse father. You don’t deserve to have Y/N, and you surely don’t deserve to raise Chana.”

“That’s not her name…” Minho practically growled, his fingers tightening around the arm rest of the chair. “You chose that name to piss me off. Everything you’ve done has been an attempt to make me angry. You want me to go off so that Y/N will think I’m an awful person and she won’t come back to me.” He leaned forward in his chair, the security between him and Chan tensing up at his movement. “I’m not… You’re the bad one… I’ll make her see that.”

The huff of air that Chan let out through his nose was loud, the little smirk that tugged up at the corner of his lips was blood boiling, but Minho knew better than to be set off by it. “I don’t have to make her think anything. Y/N can come to that conclusion on her own, and she has.” Chans tongue clicked against the roof of his mouth before he took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “Look, I’d love to sit down here and go back and forth with you for the rest of the evening, but my daughter and my fiancée are upstairs waiting for me. If you want to take this to court, fine… But you’re not going to win. I won’t let you. You’re not taking my family away from me.”

Minho pushed himself up from the chair, stepping closer until he was up against the security guards, as close to Chan as he could be. “If that’s what you want to do then do it. You’ll ruin the group, everything that the guys have worked for, everything that you’ve worked for… It’ll be ruined. You won’t just give up when you can, you won’t give me back what’s mine. It’ll all be on you.”

It was a threat, but it wasn’t nearly as scary as the possibility of never being with you again, of never holding Chana again. “The guys know where my priorities lie, and if you’re willing to destroy the group because of your selfishness and your inability to realize that you’ve screwed up for good, then that is entirely on you. You can take your guilt tripping elsewhere because quite frankly, we don’t need it, nor do we want it. Go home.”

“You won’t win…” Minho muttered as he stepped back, his hands shoved angrily in his pockets. “I won’t let you win this… I’m gonna see her… They’ll both be mine, all mine…” He continued ranting as he was practically ushered out of the doors. It wouldn’t be the last you’ve all seen of him. He wasn’t going to give up until he got what he wanted, and he wanted you, he wanted his daughter. He realized his mistakes, he’s suffered for them, he’s regretted them since day one of being caught. It was time for forgiveness, at least in his eyes it was. He’d get that one way or another, he was sure of it.

///

“What’s this?” You asked, walking into the kitchen, your daughter snuggled close against your chest. The white envelope with the massive bold letters had immediately caught your eye, and you shifted Chanas weight into one arm so you could grab the mail off the table and look at it. “Have you seen it yet? It’s already opened…”

Chan was leaning over the counter, his back turned to you, almost entirely hunched over. He was silent, but his body was shaking, the veins of his arms protruding as his fingers gripped onto the edge. “He won’t give up…” Chan mumbled, finally turning to face you, his fingers running through his hair. You could see the pain in his eyes, the faint streaks of tears on his cheeks that he had attempted to wipe away. “Let me hold her while you read it… I’ll take her…”

Your eyebrows wavered, worried about what could be inside the envelope, but you had a pretty good feeling of what it was, so you handed your daughter over to Chan before slipping out the paper. “A fucking summons? Is he serious right now?!” You screeched as you read the bold letters at the top of the paper. “He’s going too far… I thought he’d give up. I… I need to talk to him… Maybe he’ll-“

“No!” Chan practically shouted, his eyes glancing down at Chana and then back at you before taking a deep breath that left his lungs shakily. “No…” He repeated, his eyes closing as he continued to take deep breaths to calm himself. “I don’t want you talking to him. We can handle court, I’ll have one of the guys or something… They can babysit Chana… You can talk to him in court. You’re not… You’re not talking to him right now. He’ll try to use whatever you might say against you… I know how he works.”

You lowered down into one of the chairs at the table, dropping the paper down on the surface before burying your face in your hands. “She’s not even three months old yet… He’s already trying to take her away from us…” Your words were muffled in your palms, and it wasn’t made any better that you were already beginning to cry. “If he… If he takes her… I need to go with her, Chan… I-“

He shushed you, walking over to stand beside you, brushing his fingers over your hair. “Don’t say things like that. I’m not letting him get her, and I’m not letting him get you. He’s not getting my girls, not now, not ever. Please don’t think like that. You’re not going anywhere.” He leaned in to press a kiss to the top of your head. “We’ve got enough proof, enough witnesses to say that he’s not fit to be a father, he’s at work all the time… Plus, Chana is too young, she can’t be taken away from you. Everything is going to be okay. Believe me, trust me.”

Your head shook fast, your hair falling around your face, small strands sticking to your tear coated cheeks. “It’s not that easy for me to believe… this is my daughter… my baby, we’re talking about. I won’t believe that things are okay until this is done, until it’s over with and he’s completely out of our lives…” You glanced up at Chan who looked like he was deep in thought as he swayed back and forth with your daughter in his arms.

“I’m trying… I really am. I’ve got a lawyer and everything for this… I’m… I’m scared too. I don’t want him to take her… I love her, she’s our baby. I love you too, you’re my baby girl…” The pet name had you rolling your eyes, slightly flustered as you dropped your head to look at your knees. “He’s not going to win this, I won’t let him.” He slipped a finger under your chin, tilting your head back so you’d look back up at him, your glossy eyes reflecting the twinkling lights of the chandelier like stars. “You’re strong, you’re so strong, darling. I’ve watched you get over him, I’ve watched you carry a baby for 9 months and then push her out… You’re so much stronger than you think. If anyone can get through this, it’s you.” Passing your daughter into your arms, he pressed a kiss to your cheek before standing up straight again. “Take a deep breath, darling. We’re gonna get through this, together.”

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