#feel free to reply whenever of course!

[h-a-unted]

you’re safe. they’ll never find us here. / @cokon for jack !

Trying to catch his breath, he had taken some time to stare at the other after the dust seemed to settle, for the moment. Though they seemed so confident, Reacher had other thoughts.

"Is this a safehouse?" Reacher asks, that would be one of the only places that could not be traced so quickly. "If you've used this place before, it might not be as safe as you think." Yet, he doesn't seem to mind. He trusts it'll take them a while to check this area in particular and, by then, Reacher trusted that he'd be long gone.

"Helping me interrupted... whatever you were doing. Why did you?" It was one of the things he didn't understand about the situation. There was nothing to gain from helping him out, rather he thought the other might do the opposite, before. More profit from that than this. Maybe, there was still a possibility that the stranger would sell him out... After all, Reacher couldn't even see his face, let alone his intentions.

[screampied]

horny reader sending toji soapy titties pics when he's out so he gets home and makes her cum by just playing with her nipples and talking her through it :3

۫ ⭒ toji talking you through an órgasm after you tease him with pics while he’s at work

warnings. fem! reader, dirty talk, nipple play, fingering, praise / mdni.

you always loathed whenever toji had work, meaning he’d be gone for so many hours.

boredom always overtook you.

you’d be laid on the bed, specifically his side of the bed while having a staring contest with the ceiling. nevertheless, you get an idea so you decide to take a nice relaxing bubble bath. with a good thirty minutes of straight silence—you reach for your phone, snapping a good two pictures of tits. the pretty bubbles of soap that ran down, you bring a hand up to give your nipple a soft squeeze as the camera flashed before sending it to toji.

giggling, you watch as the message immediately goes straight to read, meaning toji opened your picture immediately.

of course, it took toji about thirty seconds to actually reply — all he replies with is with a subtle, “That’s cute. I’ll be home in a few.”

deeply in thought, you pondered what that was about, you just couldn’t wait for toji to finally be home. you clearly missed him and even changed into something pretty for him.

nothing too risqué….

just one of his oversized shirts, you knew he loved whenever you walked around with nothing but one of his clothings. after drying yourself off and moisturizing with candied smelling lotion. you crawled back into the bed and as if right on cue, toji came through the door.

“toji!” you’d beam, stretching your arms out and about to hug him.

“nah baby, don’t touch me.” he grumbles in a gruff voice—you took in his scent, a strong rousing cologne scent that left you craving for more. he got into the bed and you gasp once he lifts up your ; his shirt. “you know you’re in trouble right?”

you grow quiet as he snuggles up against you, sliding off his shoes before bringing your straight into his arms. “what for?”

“girl,” he utters in a rasp, you let off a soft moan once toji drags you towards his lap—you’re facing the opposite way of him, and a rough hand of his grabs onto your right tit. “you’ve got some nerve, princess. not only were you touching yourself while i wasn’t here, but you also sent pictures of yourself to me while i was at work,” and you start to softly pant, feeling him swipe a thumb against your perky nipple. “what if i was around people huh? and they saw my cute baby all exposed ‘n provocative?”

“i’m…s-sorry, you huffed out a frustrated breath. his touch was so warm. you started to feel yourself getting heated, in that kind of way. the way that makes you drenched between your thighs. “you were gone all day ‘n i thought i’d show you myse—”

“i understand princess but you shouldn’t be touching yourself in the first place,” and for a moment his voice grew smooth and tender—you slump your head back against his chest before he moved his free hand towards between your legs. “what’d i tell you about touching yourself, girl? besides, ya can’t even do it properly.”

you heard the low snicker follow shortly afterwards, and he was so smug and condescending.

“ya can’t even touch yourself right, what makes you think you can make yourself cum?” he murmurs against your neck before playfully licking a stripe against your tender skin.

you start to whimper, feeling him squeeze against your left breast, another rubbing against your panties.

“i-i can.” you pout, intaking a sharp breath from the sheer warmth to of his touch.

“baby, y’er fingers are fuckin’ useless,” he chuckles. you frown from his teasing before you let off a soft moan once you feel toji’s thick fingers graze and brush against the middle part of your panties. “gotta do everything for you,” he sighs, planting a kiss against your collarbone. he felt you breathing back against him. you gnaw on your lip as toji’s still playing with your breasts. “did you touch down here?”

your breathing continued to pick up, and you squeeze your eyes shut for a brief second. “um, no.”

“um, yeah,” he hisses. toji’s jaw tightens and you let off a needy mewl once he runs a thumb down your slit before feeling it slowly sink in—you’re so wet it happens so easily, and your heads just lazily laid back against his chest. “if you didn’t touch yourself, how come you’re all drenched?”

“i was—”

“dumb soaked liars shouldn’t speak,” he cuts you off, and you moan once he presses a little pressure against your hardened nipple, feeling a bit a few droplets of water trickle down. “i don’t hold grudges though, especially not with you, baby,” and his words were tame and smooth right against your ear. “but i feel kinda bad. least i can do is give you an orgasm huh? ya want that, princess?”

you sniffle, giving his wrist a firm tug. “yesyes, please. touch me more.”

“shouldn’t do shit after that little slutty stunt you pulled,” he growls, and you moan once he starts to maneuver small circles against your cunt—two fingers now softly making its way inside. toji’s got your panties shoved to the side and your bottom lip quavers. “but…i don’t wanna make my baby more needy than she has to be.”

“toji,” you’d sulk, and the warmth of his breath forevermore continued to blow against your ear whenever he laughed. “make me cum, p-please.”

he was so smooth with his fingers, adding just enough pressure to where you’re feeling yourself grow hot and bothered each second.

“no one should see these girls but me,” he snickers, giving your nipple a soft squeeze. you were so sensitive, especially there—yet he knew that. “her too.” toji coyly grins, the top of his fingers prod against clit as he feels you bare around his digits. “can’t leave ya by yourself can i? i can just imagine how many others times you were here waiting, playing with yourself, hmpf.”

“it— it was just this one time.” you moaned, immense tension building up. a sudden breeze of from the cool air danced against your skin. toji smiles, knowing each exact angle to hit you with his fingers.

you remain sojourned against his chest, and toji brings his chin towards your right shoulder—you conceal an incoming moan once he’s just lightly ramming his fingers in and out of you. it’s sloppy, the plethora rings of squelches sang in harmony and you weren’t sure how much longer you could last. “and it’ll be the last right, baby?”

“yes. promise, toji please.” you’d hiccup, and as he still has one of your breasts in the inner depths of his hand, your legs trembled in longing desire.

“okay,” he purrs, nipping a kiss towards your neck. you pierce your nails into his arm before after a few long tension building moments. you cum, and you cum hard. you eye sight hazy, swallowing thickly you panted heavily. “good girl, good messy girl. relax.”

you huffed and puffed quietly, legs stuttering and shaking with such pleasure that you’re at an almost lost for words. so embarrassing you could barely pronounciate his name. your words broke and broke. “t-to-joiiii.”

“poor baby,” he whispers, fingers still shoved into your pussy. it stays there for the time being before you feel him curl his index finger just a few inches upward towards your sweet nub and you choke out a cry. “ooh. that’s a good little girl,” and his praises went straight to your heart. toji’s hand caressingly trailed down your chest towards your tummy before clearing his throat. “this won’t happen again, will it?”

“m-maybe.” you slur, and you’re taken aback once he turns you over to give you a chaste kiss.

toji stares at you before groaning. “thought you’d say that. what a fuckin’ shame,” and you gasp out a noise once toji makes you land on your chest before giving your ass a playful spank. “i’ve been too nice, princess. now i gotta really show you what your pictures did to me. so arch for me.”

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Pity Party.

Synopsis - Carmy just wants to see you treated the way he thinks you deserve. He decides to take matters into his own hands.

Pairing - Carmen Berzatto x Female Roommate Reader

Word Count - 3k

Warnings - smut. cursing. alcohol mention. carmys filthy mouth.

Age Rating - 18+

Author's Note - hello hello hello!! i am back!! i had a wonderful vacation soaking up the sun, and i am feeling refreshed and ready to go. i have had so many ideas over the past few weeks, so i'm excited to get some of them written asap!! this was a fic that came to me randomly, as i was thinking about roommate!carmen and how much of a menace he'd be if you ever talked about other guys. this was written as a part of my carmen roommates collection. it doesn't follow on from Finders, Keepers or Sweet Dreams, but it does exist in the same universe - so you can decide if this takes place before or after!! as always, feel free to send me any ideas or thoughts or burning desires you have. so much love <3

as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3

Series Masterlist. Masterlist. Inbox.

"You're back early."

Carmy had swung the door open, expecting to come home to an empty apartment. Instead, he's met with the sight of you, sitting on the couch, undoing the straps of your shoes.

"Fuckin' disaster," you mutter, loud enough for him to hear.

He breathes out a chuckle at the stormy look on your face. Carmy thinks you're cutest when you're angry. He aches to smooth the crease between your brows with his thumb.

"That bad?" he asks, taking a seat next you and kicking off his sneakers.

"You wouldn't even believe."

He rises and makes his way to the kitchen, filling the tea kettle and placing it on the stove top. Grabbing two mugs, he casts a glance over his shoulder at you, frowning at your body language. You look defeated.

Carmy steeps two cups of tea, placing one of them carefully into your waiting hands. He resumes his seat on the sofa, pressing his thigh against yours and turning to face you.

"You wanna talk about it?"

You think for a moment before replying.

"You're gonna laugh at me."

His face instantly crumples, confusion written all over it.

"I'll never laugh at you. I'll laugh with you, sure. But never at you."

He nudges your shoulder with his, urging you to go on.

"Okay, fine. The actual date was pretty good. He took me to that Italian place downtown-"

"Dolce Vita? Did you get the truffle pasta I told you about?" Carmy interrupts you before you can continue.

"Yes, oh my God. It was incredible. Do you think you can recreate it sometime?"

"Fuck yeah. They're pretty secretive with their recipes, but I think I can figure it out. You can help me if you want - I'm gonna need a sous chef."

He pulls a reluctant laugh from you, the sound echoing off the ceramic of your mugs. You both know that being the sous chef involves you sitting on the counter drinking wine while Carmy does all the work.

"Of course. I'll always be your sous chef."

"I'll hold you to that."

You smile at him gently, a little taken aback by the sincerity in his voice.

"Anyway. The dinner went great. He seemed super interested in me, asked me questions, told me about his job, his hobbies, his dog. He was hot, and good to talk to. I thought I'd hit the jackpot."

"And then?"

"And then we went back to his apartment. And it all went to shit."

He chuckles, blue eyes glinting in the moonlight.

"Tell me more."

"You really want to hear about all of this?"

It's not like you and Carmy aren't close. You absolutely are. It's just that there's always been this unspoken connection between the two of you. A bubbling, fiery attraction that you both shut down repeatedly, screwing the lid on tight whenever it rears its head. So, you tend to avoid talking to Carmy about dating. You're scared you'll accidentally blurt out the truth - you compare every single date to him.

"Of course I do."

His answer is so genuine it makes you ache. You continue, hesitantly.

"Well... things got a little... heavy. He wasn't a bad kisser, I guess... he just wasn't... a good one? He kept biting my lip super hard and it kinda hurt. Then he pulled my clothes off like a high schooler, and he's on top of me, and I'm waiting for him to sort of... do... anything? And then he's finished. Like, completely done. And then he has the nerve to ask me if I finished."

Carmy's mouth has fallen open, shock etched across his face. After a long, heavy pause, he speaks.

"What the fuck?"

You look at him for moment, before bursting into contagious laughter. He joins you, both of you with your heads thrown back, giggles reverberating around the lowlit room.

"I mean, seriously," he pants, still laughing. "What the fuck?"

"I didn't even answer him. I just put my clothes on, grabbed my bag and left without saying a word."

Every time you try to stifle your laughter, a giggle escapes. The situation wasn't funny at the time, but looking back, it's hilarious.

All of a sudden, you both go silent. You're deep in thought, reflecting on the seemingly never ending stream of bad dates that you've endured. Carmy is watching you intently, ocean blue eyes glued to your face.

"Fuck," you breathe. "This is kinda pathetic."

Carmy inhales deeply, and turns his body so it's facing yours on the couch.

"The way I see it," he begins, "you have two options."

You quirk a brow in confusion and stay quiet, waiting for him to explain.

"You can sit here feeling sorry for yourself, or, you can let me fuck you the way you deserve."

Your mouth falls open in shock at the exact same moment your brain seems to shut down. You can't think. You can't process his words. All you can focus on is the way he's staring at you. You suddenly feel hot under his gaze, the hairs on the back of your neck standing up. A shiver runs down your spine, and you have to remind yourself to breathe.

"Wh-... what?" you choke out.

"You heard me, honey. You can wallow in your little pity party, or you can let me show you what it's like to be with someone who can actually make you come. Your choice."

His voice has dropped an octave lower than usual, the tone warm and honeyed. He's still staring at you, blue gaze unrelenting.

"Is this gonna fuck everything up between us?" you whisper hesitantly.

Carmy reaches out and places a gentle hand on your cheek, thumb stroking careful circles into your skin.

"I don't think anything can fuck up what we have," he murmurs. "You're the only thing in my life that makes sense."

His confession seems to sober you up, the honesty in his words snapping you back to your senses.

"Okay."

He almost does a double take at the sureness in your voice.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Put your money where your mouth is, Carmen."

"There she is," he chuckles. "You scared me when you went quiet for a second there."

"Well, if what you say is true, you're not gonna be able to shut me up for the night."

He laughs darkly, and slides closer to you slightly.

"Oh, honey. You're gonna wish you hadn't said that."

He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, tracing the journey of your neck with his fingertips. He rests his hand lightly at the base of your throat, the heavy weight of it making you pant.

"If there's any point where you don't like something, or you want me to slow down, just say so. Okay?"

You nod your head, entranced by the sudden dominance he's displaying. You've never seen this side of him before. You can't believe he's been hiding it this whole time.

"Words, pretty. Need to hear you say it."

"Yes. I understand. I'll tell you, I promise."

He doesn't say anything in reply, just smirks. He lets you sit in the silence for a moment too long, the anticipation slowly killing you.

"Please, Carmen," you breathe. "Please."

"Fuck," he groans, shuffling closer to you. "You sound so pretty when you beg."

Carmy leans in and kisses your cheek gently, testing the waters. He presses a kiss to your other cheek, and pulls back to watch for your reaction. When he's happy, he tilts forward and leaves a careful kiss on your chin, then your forehead, then both of your closed eyes, before kissing you on the side of your mouth. His closeness makes you whine, desperate for him to give you what you want.

Finally, he connects his lips to yours, starting off slow and tender. When you tangle your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck and try to pull him even closer, his resolve snaps. His tongue sweeps into your mouth, exploring eagerly. You clamber over him and climb into his lap, straddling his hips and pressing yourself into his body.

Carmy can't decide where to put his hands. He's grabbing at your waist, running his fingers up your back, pulling you into him by your ass. You're both groaning into each others mouths, enraptured by the other person and the all consuming way they kiss.

"Can I take this off?" he asks lowly, pulling at the hem of your dress.

Instead of answering, you pull it over your head, throwing it onto the floor in front of you.

"Fuck," he murmurs. "Most beautiful girl I've ever seen."

His hands are roaming all of your exposed skin, as if he can't get enough. He's terrified he won't ever get to see you like this again, so he's not going to waste a second.

You grind your hips down into his, eliciting a groan from the both of you. His hands tighten their grip on your waist, as he leans up to press open mouthed kisses to your jaw. Your fingers fly to the hem of his t shirt, pulling it off swiftly. You manage to shove his jeans down and off, before attempting to pull off his underwear. Carmy stops you in your tracks.

"Nuh uh," he tuts. "This is about you. Not me."

He pulls you off his lap gently and shuffles so his back is resting against the couch cushions. He spreads his legs wide, and gestures for you to sit between them. When you don't move, he looks at you carefully.

"Give me a color, pretty girl."

You take a deep breath, and smile at him softly.

"Green, Carmen. Promise."

You manoeuvre sideways, so you can place yourself with your back to his chest. He wraps his arms around you for a moment and holds you tightly, as if he's scared you'll disappear any second. You relax into his embrace, all the tension leaving your body. You have nothing to worry about. It's just you and Carmen, in the place you call home.

You drop your head back into Carmy's shoulder, and allow yourself to get lost in the feeling of his hands on your skin. He's begun tracing patterns down your arms, your sides, your stomach, until he reaches your underwear. He plays with the band, dipping his finger underneath in a feather light touch. Goose bumps rise across your body and you shiver, practically vibrating with need.

"Carmen," you whisper. "Don't tease."

"But that's half the fun," he murmurs into your ear, and you can hear the smile in his voice.

You can picture it perfectly, too. The way his eyes crinkle, the way his mouth curves, the way he bites his lip to stifle it. The image in your mind makes you melt into him further. You want to be as close to him as you physically can be. You'd completely disappear into him if you could.

He brings you back to reality by cupping you over your underwear, groaning when he feels the saturated material.

"Oh, pretty girl. Is this all for me? Fuck."

Suddenly, his game of teasing has lost all its fun. Carmy twists his fingers into your underwear and pulls them off in one swift movement, throwing them in the general direction of your dress on the floor. He places a hand on each of your thighs and spreads them apart, hooking them over his legs.

Carmy starts off slow, careful. He caresses over your skin, gentle and almost apprehensive. When he gets to your core, he swipes a finger through, testing the waters. When you buck your hips into his hand, he knows you're both on the same page.

"Just relax, okay? Gonna make you feel good."

His deep, smooth, whiskey like voice is doing nothing to help the heat bubbling in your stomach. You only whine in response, wiggling your hips to urge him to keep going.

Carmy throws one arm around your stomach, keeping you plastered to his body. You can feel him hot and hard against your back, and you so desperately want to feel him that your mouth is watering. You grind back into him, and he reads your mind.

"Not yet," he whispers. "This is about you, remember? Need to show you what you've been missing."

With that, he circles your clit with two fingers, slowly but surely. He revels in the noises you elicit. They're making him dizzy, disorientated. He never thought he'd be the one to pull a sound like that from you. He's quite convinced he's dreaming.

"Let me hear you. Don't hold back on me, okay?"

You nod your head frantically, willing to give him whatever he asks if you get what you want.

Carmy slips a finger into you slowly, moaning under his breath at your warmth. When he thinks you're ready, he adds a second finger, and sets a steady rhythm, trying to figure out what you like.

After he's set his pace, he starts to curl his fingers on the up stroke, grinning to himself when he finds the spot.

"Yeah? Right there? That's it, isn't it?"

You're nodding and shaking and pawing at his forearms, trying to tether yourself to reality in any way you can. You think you might be floating, on cloud 9, in some sort of euphoric trance. You can't believe no one's ever made you feel like this before. You're convinced no one ever will again.

Carmy quickens his pace and basks in the glory of your moans. He thinks this might be the most beautiful you've ever looked, spread out completely for him. Every inch of your skin is touching his, and it makes his heart skip a beat for a second.

He presses a kiss into your hair and keeps his mouth there, murmuring honeyed praises into your ear.

"Doin' so good for me."

"You got it, honey, that's it."

"Atta girl. Keep going. Almost there."

"You look so fuckin' pretty like this. Fuck. Gonna be thinking about this forever."

"I'll ruin you, baby. Nothing's ever gonna compare to this, to what we have."

All you can do is moan in response, his filthy words pushing you closer and closer to the edge. You're almost there, but something is stopping you. You whine in frustration, tears welling in your eyes. Carmy feels the tension suddenly grasp your muscles, and leans down to mutter to you softly.

"What is it, sweet girl? What do you need? Just tell me. Anything, and I'll give it to you."

You're not sure how much you trust your voice right now, so you decide to show him instead. You take the hand that he's using to hold you to him and move it up your body until it's resting against your throat. You tighten your fingers around his, and moan in response to the pressure.

"Oh, baby," he coos. "Filthy fuckin' girl. Here I thought you were so innocent, and this whole time you wanted to be choked like a whore?"

The way he degrades you so lovingly makes you mewl. You'd never ever trust anyone else to speak to you this way in such an intimate moment - but with Carmen, there's no hesitation. You know he's just telling you what you need to hear in the heat of the moment. And you love him for it.

"Fuck, Carmen," you manage to choke out. "Keep going. Don't stop, please."

"I'll do anything you want if you keep saying my name like that," he whispers.

"Carmen," you moan in response. "Carmy Carmy Carmy Carmy Carmy."

You're chanting his name like a prayer. He's rutting into your back, hips grinding and circling in time with his fingers that are maintaining their steady rhythm. His fingers tighten around your throat as he crooks his digits just right, and the result is a devastating moan from you that Carmy wishes to have on repeat for the rest of his life.

"So close," you whisper hoarsely. "Harder."

Carmy uses his thumb to circle your clit with one hand, other hand pulling you by your neck back into him tightly. He grinds his hips dirtily into you, and the feeling of him so silky and warm against you is what sends you over the edge. The corners of your vision go white as you arch into him, head thrown backwards into his chest. The sounds you're making are so melodic, so borderline angelic that Carmy almost cries. Heaven, he thinks. This is salvation.

Carmy finishes with you, climaxing onto the soft skin of your back. You both relax simultaneously, chests heaving and panting. He removes his fingers gently and wraps both arms around you, pulling you into him tightly despite the mess. He reaches to brush the hair out of your face, and the gesture is so tender it makes your lip quiver.

"Thank you," you whisper after what feels like hours of comfortable silence.

"Sorry I called you a whore," he murmurs back.

You let out a surprised laugh, vibrating with amusement in his arms.

"I know you didn't mean it."

"I mean I did give you the best orgasm of your life, so... call it even?"

"You're forgiven," you chuckle. "Completely forgiven."

You trace gentle patterns over his forearms with your fingertips, following the black ink of his tattoos. He sighs in contentment and places a kiss into your hair, relaxing further into the couch.

You sit together like that for a while, neither of you too concerned with the time. It's not often you see Carmy so relaxed, so serene. You're enjoying it for as long as you can.

"We should clean up," he says quietly, eventually. "Sorry about the mess."

"It's okay. Worth it," you tease, pinching his thigh. He pinches your side in retaliation, which makes you jump.

"Come on, trouble."

He stands from the couch, never letting go of the grip he has on you. You have no choice but to stand with him, yelping as he half carries you through the apartment towards the shower.

The sounds of both of your laughter bounce off of the abandoned mugs of tea still sat on the coffee table, melodic and joyous. The moonlight seeps through the windows, illuminating the beginning of something special in the living room of your shared apartment.

[totheblood]

in between | s.r.

pairing: post-prison!spencer reid x best friend!reader

summary: things are different, spencer's different. but how he feels about you is the one thing that has never changed. the only problem is now you have a boyfriend.

warnings: smut ! 18+ mdni!! lowkey cheating (lol), cursing, problematic reader, angst.

a/n: i am never beating the star has a cheating kink allegations!! I DO NOT I PROMISE... but yeah... this got away from me, i am touch starved and ovulating. reblogs, asks, and replies are so appreciated and encouraged! thank u kisses.. PLEASE SEND SPENCER REQUESTS!!!

wc: 5.9k

"I just can't come between 'em, they got their own thing I wish he'd stop pretendin', he won't let his phone ring."

Spencer was different after he got out.

It wasn’t like you could expect any less. Much less would change you for the worse and you knew that, but something about the way Spencer sat slumped over in his desk doing paperwork made your heart sink. He wasn’t as chatty as he used to be, he didn’t have that glimmer in his eyes, and his voice sounded hollow when he spoke. Under his eyes were permanent dark circles and his lips seemed to form a scorn whenever anyone wasn’t looking. Or when he thought no one was looking.

You sat at your desk, pink mug in your hands as you watched him. Watched his eyebrows crease, and watched him flip through the file in his hand as he pressed a free hand to his temple, rubbing it in small circles. Spencer was on edge all the time and he looked like it. You could tell he made an effort with you to be kinder, gentler, but it always came out sounding rehearsed, his face betraying him like it always did. Spencer Reid, your best friend, was now a completely changed person and it killed you that you couldn’t stop it. 

Pushing yourself from your desk chair you approached him, a small smile on your voice as you gently spoke, “Hey.”

He tensed for a second. He still wasn’t used to people sneaking up on him. He made a conscious effort to fix his face before turning to look up at you, his body relaxing upon seeing your face. Placing the file down on the desk, he leaned back in his chair returning your small smile as he spoke, “Hey,”

His voice was quiet as he spoke. He was tired and up close you could just see how much. 

“You, um…” your voice trailed off making his eyebrows raise, “are you okay?” The question was stupid, you knew the answer but it never hurt to ask. Your fingernails gripped the mug handle as you swallowed down the nerves, “are you sleeping?”

Spencer thought of how to answer truthfully. If he was being honest, of course, he wasn’t okay, he hadn’t been okay for a while, but instead, he just gave you a slight nod, “Yeah, I’m fine.” His voice was a little raspy as he spoke, but he turned away from you and back to the file on his desk. He was lying and you both knew it, but you weren’t his therapist and he was not about to open that can of worms on a Thursday. 

“Of course, yeah,” you awkwardly mumbled, “you know I’m still here, right? I’m still me, you know? You’re my best friend… and I, um, miss you.” 

He turned back to you, his face visibly softening as you spoke. He knew you were there for him, you were the only person he would allow to be there for him. He just didn’t know how to open back up or ask for help. Instead, he nodded his head, “I know… and I miss you too.”

“Spence, I-” you spoke but were promptly cut off by none other than Luke Alvez placing a hand on the small of your back as he whispered to you, “We still on for tonight?” 

It felt too intimate, too personal for Spencer to hear, but worst of all it made his stomach sink. He clenched his jaw tightly as he watched the interaction and took note of how you leaned into him. You were comfortable with him, comfortable enough that you should have told Spencer long before now. 

“Yeah,” you whispered back as you smiled sheepishly at Luke, tucking a stray hair behind your ear. 

“Great,” he smiled, removing his hand as he nodded slightly at Spencer before making his way over to his own desk.  

“You guys are going out?” He asked, his tone his own one-off attempt to keep his tone neutral and controlled, but came out more strained than usual. 

“Yeah,” you replied like you were ashamed of it, “it just kind of happened when you were… gone,” you rubbed at the back of your neck nervously, “I was just a mess without you and he was… well, he was there. There for me, I mean.”

Spencer kept his expression neutral, but he felt like a part of him was being taken from him, “So you’re dating now?”

“Kinda,” you squinted your eyes, trying to think of the perfect way to word it, “I mean, yes, like we haven’t labeled it but I think we’re exclusive. I don’t know we haven’t really talked too much about it.”

“And you didn’t think to tell me?” He said, his voice low and laced with bitterness. He had already felt like he missed out on so much and in a way became an outsider in a team he once called his family. But when it came to you, it struck a different chord. 

“When would that come up, Spence?” you replied, giving half of a laugh to soften the blow, “I wasn’t going to tell you about who I was hooking up with while visiting you in prison. It just didn’t seem fair and then you came back and didn’t seem interested in what I had going on. I just didn’t think you cared to know that.”

“Not interested in what you had going on?” he repeated back, the words sour on his tongue, “You think I didn’t care to know? I was in prison, that didn’t mean I stopped caring about you.”

“I know that, Sp-” he cut you off.

“I was in prison, stuck in a cell, for months thinking I was never going to get out and you were… dating,” he didn’t know why he said it, it just kind of spilled out. Like all the bitterness and resentment he had been feeling had finally reached the surface and was spilling over. 

“What was I supposed to do?” you whisper-yelled, “Stop my life forever because you weren’t here? It was hard for me, Spence, and god I missed you more than anything but I needed the pain to stop and he… he stopped it.” 

“Pain? You were in pain? Well, I spent 270 days in a 6 by 8 prison cell. I was the one in pain! You don’t know what it was like!” He knew he was wrong, but it was like all of his anger, pain, and frustration was coming out and he didn’t know how to stop it. He knew it wasn’t a big deal. Logically, he knew that. But right now, all he wanted to do was get it out.

You took a step back suddenly, forcing reality to wash over him as your eyes got slightly glossy, guilt painted all over your face, “I’m sorry… I thought you would be happy for me… I thought…” 

You turned your head from him slightly, avoiding his gaze as you shook your head, “Nevermind, I’ll um, I’ll see you around.”

Spencer watched as you stepped back and saw the hurt look on your face. The anger and irritation faded almost immediately and in its place was guilt and remorse. He had hurt the one person he never wanted to hurt. He reached out a hand to try and stop you from leaving.

"Wait... please don't go," He spoke in a softer and more vulnerable tone.

Your own expression softened at this, like he was a child reaching out for you, scared there were monsters under his bed. His hand linked onto your fingers gently. You could pull away if you wanted to, but didn’t, “What?”

Spencer held onto your hand gently as he stood up from his chair and took a few steps closer to you. He looked at you anxiously, knowing that he needed to explain himself. He didn't want you to leave, especially not like this.

"I'm sorry... I didn't mean to snap at you like that. I just... I feel left out. I felt forgotten," he explained, trying to keep his voice soft, but there was a hint of worry and jealousy in his tone.

"I know, I know, I mean I'm sorry," you replied, shaking your head, "you're my best friend, I should have told you."

Spencer sighed and gave your hand a gentle squeeze.

"No, I'm the one who should be sorry. I'm just... I'm on edge lately and I didn't mean to take it out on you. I shouldn't have acted like an ass to you."

He spoke in a sincere tone, his expression softening as he watched your face. 

You let out a small giggle, taking your hand back from him but gently nudging his shoulder, "You've been through a lot. you deserve to be an ass sometimes," she teased. 

Spencer let out a small breath of relief when he heard you laugh. It was like you were his again, and that part that had been missing found it’s way home.  He managed a small smile at your words, feeling a little lighter.

"Maybe, but not to you. You're probably the only person who I shouldn't take my anger out on. I don't want to lose you."

"You won't," you replied almost too quickly, "you won't lose me, I promise."

"You promise?" he asked quietly, his tone filled with vulnerability.

You lifted your pinky finger for him to take with his, "Pinky promise."

Spencer's lips curved into a small smile as he saw your pinky offered to him. He looked at it for a moment before linking his own pinky with yours and giving them a small squeeze.

"Pinky promise."

You smiled up at him, the bright smile you reserved especially for him as you clicked your teeth, “Well, I gotta… get back to paperwork, Spence, but I’m  glad you’re back.”

Spencer smiled faintly at your bright smile, that only you seemed to bring out in him these days. "Yeah, I should get back to work, too. But, um..." He paused for a moment, his expression growing more anxious as he spoke, “Tonight, with Alvez… do you think you could cancel?”

"Why? What's wrong?" you asked, a worried expression clouding your face as you lightly gripped his forearm. It used to be a comforting touch but right now it felt foreign. 

"I just-" He let out a slow breath and paused before continuing, "I just want to spend time with you, alone. I feel like we haven't really had time to connect since I got out, and I miss you."

He wanted to feel guilty, he really did but a part of him couldn’t. He did want to spend time with you, but he also just didn’t want your time to be taken up by Luke. 

“Oh, Spence,” you cooed, voice soft as you took your hand back, “of course I can cancel. My place or  yours?” 

Spencer's expression softened and relief washed over him at your words. He couldn't help but smile faintly as you agreed, feeling a weight lifted off his shoulders. He thought for a moment before replying, "Your place. I haven't been there in a while, and I need a change of scenery."

"My place it is," you smiled, "I'll go cancel with him right now,"

He watched as you walked over to Alvez and told him you were canceling, and then told him you were canceling for Spencer. Spencer couldn't hear the two of you but it looked like you were fighting. He was talking with his hands, rolling his eyes as you put up a defensive hand. It was clear he was upset and it ended with Alvez throwing down a file on his desk and storming away.

Spencer's expression grew a little more worried as he saw the interaction between you and Alvez. When he saw Alvez throw down the file on his desk and storm away, he felt a pang of guilt. He knew that you had canceled because of him, and it was causing problems between you and Alvez. He watched as Alvez walked away and he let out a slow, heavy sigh as he ran his fingers through his hair.

Later that night, you were in your living room, sprawled out on the couch watching tv as you heard the familiar knocks of Spencer on the door. Opening it up you gave him a bright smile, your PJs in full effect, "Good evening, Doctor," you smiled at him, taking a step to the side to let him in.

Spencer smiled faintly at the sight of you, dressed in your PJs. It was a comfortable and familiar sight to him, and it made him feel at ease. He chuckled softly at your greeting, "Good evening, SSA Y/L/N," he teased in return, his voice a little more relaxed than usual.

You giggled, letting him in, "On a last-name basis, huh?" you laughed again. "I say we watch Doctor Who Series Two, what do you think?"

Spencer chuckled as he walked inside and nodded in agreement. He closed the door behind him and made his way over to her couch, plopping himself down on one end, and resting his arm on the back of the couch. In a way, he hated how well you knew him. He hated how as long as he lived there would be one person in the world to know what he needed and that she would be putting on his favorite season of his favorite show and making it seem like it was her own idea. He hated that you existed and he couldn’t have you. 

"Sounds perfect. Doctor Who marathon it is," he replied with a smile.

"Perfect," you smiled, plopping down on the other end, remote in hand as you moved to put on the show, Spence, who is your favorite companion," you asked absentmindedly as you flipped through the catalog. 

Spencer chuckled at your question and thought for a moment before answering. He shifted around on the couch until he was facing you, his expression pondering.

"Hmm, that's a tough one," he started, his voice thoughtful as he considered the question, "I've always had a soft spot for Donna Noble. She was funny, and her chemistry with the Doctor was hilarious. But Ten and Rose... they'll always have a special place in my heart."

“Ten and Rose are..." you blushed to yourself, "They are endgame to me even though they clearly aren't endgame, but I don't care."

Spencer chuckled at your blushing as you spoke about Ten and Rose, and he nodded in agreement, "Right? They had such incredible chemistry. It's hard not to root for them. The way Ten always looked at her like she was the only thing that mattered. It was like he saw the universe in her eyes," he agreed, his expression growing fond as he spoke.

"Yeah," you smiled, your smile fading as you clicked on the first episode of series two. Spencer noticed your smile fade and he furrowed his eyebrows in concern. He leaned a little closer to you, watching your expression.

"Hey, you okay?"

He spoke quietly, his voice filled with a hint of worry.

“Yeah, it's fine. I just... don't like being in a fight with Luke. it's like why can’t we be more like... Ten and Rose..." you shook your head, "It's stupid, whatever.”

Spencer's expression softened as he listened to you, understanding your frustration. He gave you a reassuring smile and spoke in a gentle tone, "It's not stupid, you're allowed to feel that way. Comparing what you have to some fictional characters... it's natural to yearn for that kind of connection,” He paused for a moment, studying your face, before continuing, "Why do you think you and Alvez can't be like Ten and Rose?"

"I don't know," you shook your head, "it's like I can't do anything right. He's- and I shouldn't be telling you this, but when you were away we would get into so many fights over you. He'd be mad if I went to visit you, or if I was too upset about missing you and he just always kept insinuating that I was like in love with you or something,”

Spencer's expression faltered as you spoke. He could already sense Alvez was jealous of your close friendship, but to hear he had been trying to discourage you from visiting him while he was away... it angered him. But it was the implication that you may have feelings for him that made his heart skip a beat in his chest. But he pushed that feeling down for the moment, trying to focus on what you were saying, "He said you were in love with me?"

"Yea," you whispered, "but I told him it wasn't like that. That we were just friends but he didn't believe it. He still doesn't."

"Why doesn't he believe you?" He asked softly, his eyes studying your face.

"I dont know," you groaned, "I mean we don't have a conventional friendship, me and you, but it was like a piece of me was locked up with you in that prison. I just wasn’t me without you and he saw that and took it as me being in love with you," you replied, ignoring the implications of what that meant.

Spencer couldn't help the pang of guilt that went through him at your words. He knew that being locked up had affected you just as much as it had affected him. He understood that without him, you had felt like a part of you was missing, but it still broke his heart to hear it.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly, his voice tinged with guilt, "I never wanted to make things difficult for you... or put you in a position like that."

"You didn't, Spence," you sat up quickly, putting your hand over his that was situated in his lap, "You didn't do anything okay, my... partner or whatever he is should be able to trust me."

Spencer's expression softened at your touch, and his heart skipped a beat as you covered his hand with yours. He swallowed down the lump in his throat, feeling a wave of emotions wash over him. Your words made him feel a little better, but he couldn't shake off the guilt entirely, "I know, but..." He trailed off for a moment before continuing in a softer tone, "I just wish I could make things right for you, y'know?"

"Not your job," you smiled in a desperate attempt to comfort him, "I'd rather have you in my life than some man who didn't believe me anyway."

Spencer sighed, feeling a mixture of comfort and guilt at your words. He knew that it wasn't his job to fix things between you and Luke, but he hated seeing you hurt or upset. He gave your hand a small, affectionate squeeze as he spoke, "I'm always going to be in your life, no matter what. You're stuck with me."

"Oh, kill me now," you joked, voice soft as you leaned your head on his shoulder, "Eternity with you though?" you whispered, "Not the worst thing in the world."

Spencer chuckled softly at your joke, and he couldn't help but smile as you rested your head on his shoulder. He wrapped his arm around you, pulling you a little closer to him, "Eternity with me, huh?" He repeated, a hint of amusement in his voice, "You sure you could handle it?"

"You sure you could handle it?" you giggled, softly pushing him down on the couch causing him to topple over into the couch. If this was anyone else he would have pushed you back immediately, tell you to not push him like that, but it was you. And you could do whatever you wanted to him. 

"Hey, hey, easy on the doctor!” Spencer protested jokingly as he fell backward into the couch. He looked up at you, a hint of playfulness in his eyes, as he sprawled out comfortably, "You're not getting rid of me that easy," he teased with a chuckle.

"Hey, hey, not easy on the doctor," you giggled again, leaning over on top of him, taking a pillow, and pretending to smother him as you climbed on top of him, straddling him. 

Spencer's heart skipped a beat as you straddled him, and he couldn't help blushing slightly at the sudden closeness of your body on top of his. His breathing hitched a little, but he tried to keep his expression playful. He pretended to struggle against you as you leaned over him with the pillow, "Hey now, watch it!” he protested, though his voice was filled with amusement.

You giggled as she pressed the pillow further into his face, "'m putting you out of your misery Doctor,"

Spencer laughed even louder, feigning resistance as you pressed the pillow further into his face, "Mercy! Mercy! I surrender!" He jokingly spoke in a dramatic tone, his voice muffled by the pillow. He tried to pull the pillow away from his face to look up at you.

Pulling the pillow off of his face, you smiled down at him, the laugh slowly dying in your throat as you realized the compromised position, “Oh.”

Spencer was panting slightly from the fake struggle, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he looked up at you. His gaze met yours and he felt a wave of heat wash over him as he fully realized your position, with you straddling him on the couch, hips pressed slightly down into him. He couldn't help but take in the sight of you on top of him, his heart racing.

"I, um… didn't realize,” you spoke quickly, your own self out of breath, panting as you began to move to get off him, "I'm sorry, shit." 

"No, no, wait., "Spencer's hand reached out quickly and gently grabbed your wrist as you tried to move off him. He swallowed, his heart racing a mile a minute. He couldn't deny the tension in the air or the way his body reacted to how close you were. This was straight out of a dream he knew he had, "Please... don't move," he whispered, his voice low.

Your breathing was heavy as you looked down at him, hair tousled and in your PJs, "Spence," you whispered, voice low. 

Spencer looked up at you, feeling his body hum with desire as he took you in. Your tousled hair, the sight of you in your PJs, it was all so real and intimate. It was domestic in nature and it made his heart do a flip. He swallowed, his eyes flickering up to meet yours. At the sound of you whispering his name, his grip on your wrist tightened just a fraction, "Yeah?” He whispered back, his own voice thick and dry. 

"Is that a gun in your pants or are you just happy to see me?" you joked, the tension still thick and palatable as it sat it the pit of your stomach.

Spencer's breath hitched at your joke, with the way he was reacting it was clear he hadn’t been touched in months. He let out a low, rumbling chuckle, the sound sending shivers down his spine. He shifted beneath you, your body still straddling him, and he could feel the weight of your body against him, the tension between you palpable, "Maybe it's both," he whispered, his voice low and thick with desire.

You breathed out, a shaky breath but still a breath, as you rocked your hips a little bit against him, desperate for friction, "I'm not a cheater," you whispered. 

Spencer's breath caught in his throat as you rocked your hips against him, and it took everything in him not to buck his hips in response. He tried to control his breathing, his body reacting to your touch almost involuntarily. He swallowed, his voice a little rougher than usual as he replied, "I know you're not. You've never been," He placed his hands on your hips, holding you in place lightly, his thumbs slowly stroking the bare skin of your waist under your shirt.

Your skin burned where his hands met your hips. It made you want to do more. It made you want to continue, a soft sigh that sounded like a moan falling from your lips, swallowing quickly as you stared down at him. 

Spencer's heart raced as you let out that small sigh, a mix of a moan, and he couldn't deny the effect it had on him. He could feel the heat building between you, the tension in the room almost tangible, "You're driving me crazy," he breathed out, his thumbs continuing to stroke your skin, his touch growing a little firmer, more possessive. His pupils were blown out, soft brown eyes looking up at you like it was you who held the universe in your hands. 

"I'm not-" you shook your head, "not doing anything," you whispered, hips grinding down slowly as you took another deep breath in. Your brain was telling you to quit while you were ahead, but every bone in your body seemed physically incapable of stopping. 

Spencer's breath hitched at the feel of your hips grinding down against him, and he involuntarily tightened his grip on your hips, his fingers digging into your soft skin. "Oh, you're doing plenty," he whispered back, his voice low and laced with barely suppressed need. "You have no idea what you're doing to me, do you?”

"No," you whispered, hands trailing up his chest as he held you, "explain it to me."

Spencer let out a ragged breath, trying to form coherent words, "You... you drive me crazy. You always have," he whispered, his voice thick with desire. "The way you look at me, talk to me, touch me..." He paused, gathering himself, before continuing. "The way you're straddling me right now, your body pressed against mine, it's... it's like you were made for me."

You closed your eyes, grinding down harder involuntarily. It was okay to dry hump your best friend, right? That didn't count as cheating, right? Your mind tried to convince yourself this was okay, that you weren’t awful, but you were spurred on by his words, your panties dampening as he held you. 

Spencer groaned as you ground down harder against him, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment before he opened them again, his gaze filled with undisguised desire, "This... we shouldn't," he managed to say, even as his hands continued to grip your hips, pulling you closer to him, his body responding without even thinking, "You're with Luke... we can't... we can't do this," his words were a whisper, but even he could hear the lack of conviction behind them.

You ground down again, in tandem with him, "You're- you're right," you panted, "maybe we should stop," your own eyes fluttered closed. 

Spencer groaned again, his grip on your hips tightening even more, his body moving in time with yours, almost involuntarily. His heart was racing, his breath coming in short, ragged bursts as he tried to slow himself down, to think clearly, "Yeah, we... we should stop," he agreed, his voice a little hoarse, but his body betrayed his words, still rocking against you, needing the friction, the closeness.

"Oh god, fuck," you groaned, eyes fluttering closed as you rocked harder, faster, "Yeah... yeah... should stop," you repeated.

"Fuck..." Spencer couldn't help but curse under his breath, his hips bucking up to meet yours with each movement, his body on fire with need. He was losing his mind, his last shred of control slipping away as he felt the heat between you growing more and more intense, "We... we need to stop... now..." he managed to breathe out, his voice barely above a whisper, his hands holding onto your hips like a lifeline, almost desperately.

"Mhm," you moaned in agreement but never stopped your movements. Instead, you continued to rock against him, ignoring how the spaghetti strap of your pajamas had started to fall off your shoulder, "So stop," you whispered, not stopping.

Spencer's eyes were fixed on the spaghetti strap that was falling off your shoulder, his brain nearly short-circuiting at the sight. He groaned, the sound almost guttural, as he tried to steady his breathing. "I'm- I'm trying, I'm trying..." He was trying, he really was, but with your body moving against him like that, your hips rocking in just the right way, he couldn't help but move with you, his body responding on autopilot.

"How hard?" you whispered, a giggle falling from your lips that turned quickly into a strangled moan, as his hands pushed your hips down into him. Spencer's grip on your hips tightened even more, his fingers digging into your skin, as he pushed you down into him. His breathing was ragged now, his body trembling with need, as he felt you against him.

"So goddamn hard," he groaned, his voice strained, as he tried to hold back. "You have no idea how hard you’re making this for me."

"I can," you panted out, "I can feel it… How hard it is for you," you giggled, eyes fluttering shut again as you gripped his shoulder. It was all him at this point, he was pulling you down into him, his hips bucking up. The friction all felt too good, too real, and you weren’t stopping. There was no way you could. 

Spencer was losing himself completely in the feeling of you against him, the sound of your voice, the way your touch burned through him. His head was spinning, his body on fire with need and desire. He pulled you down harder against him, his hips bucking up involuntarily, the friction between you sending sparks through his body. He could feel his cock twitch in his pants, as he pulled you down closer to him, "God... you feel so good," he groaned, his lips brushing against your collarbone, his breath hitched and shallow.

When his lips touched you, you gasped, a loud moan coming from your lips that sounded too much like his name.  You wanted this and you wanted it desperately. It was almost pathetic how much you wanted this.

The sound of your moan, his name on your lips, it was like a punch to the gut. Spencer's grip on your hips involuntarily tightened, his body reacting almost violently to the sound, the need in your voice. "Say it again," he groaned, his lips moving against your skin, leaving a trail of hot, hungry kisses along your collarbone. "Say my name again."

"Fuck," you hissed back a moan, "Spencer," you practically chanted, hand gripping the arm of the couch behind him as you ground together, "Spencer," you chanted again, a lot less coherent as she bit back a moan. 

Each time you said his name, it sounded like a prayer, and Spencer felt like he was losing his mind. His hips bucked up against yours as he heard it again and again, the sound sending shockwaves through his body. He buried his face in your neck, his breath coming in hot, ragged gasps as he fought to keep himself together, "God, say it again," he begged, his voice thick with need and hunger, "Please, say my name again, just like that."

"Spencer- ah, fuck," you cried out, whimpering pathetically as your body moved for you, "Spencer."

Spencer was drowning in you, in the sound of you saying his name. It was the only thing he could hear, the only thing he could focus on. He was coming undone under you, his body reacting involuntarily to your touch and your voice.

"That's it," he breathed against your skin, his lips on your neck, his body moving with yours. "Just like that, baby, just like that. Say my name, say it again."

"Spencer," you cried out as his movements picked up, as they became more aggressive. You just kept chanting it like it was the air you breathed, like it was the only word you knew. Spencer was wild with need, overwhelmed by the sound of his name falling from your lips, the feel of your body against his. He gripped your hips tightly, his fingers digging into your skin, as he pulled you down into him, moving against you with a desperate, frenzied rhythm.

"You're killing me," he groaned, his voice thick with desire and frustration. "God, you're going to kill me."

He buried his face in your neck, his lips moving against your skin, his breath hot and labored. He was losing himself completely in the moment, driven by pure need and desire, "I can't- I can't stop," he panted between kisses, his voice ragged and strained. "I need you, I need you so bad."

"Fuck, Spencer," you cried out, body almost shaking on top of him. If this was wrong, why did it feel so good?

Spencer was lost in you, undone by your words, your sounds, your touch. Your body shaking on top of him, the sound of his name falling from your lips was like a drug, addictive and potent. He clutched you tighter, his grip almost bruising, as he moved against you frantically, desperately, chasing the release that was building inside him, "That's it, that's it," he panted, his own body trembling, "Don't stop, baby, don't stop."

He felt the orgasm building inside him, a wave of pleasure and heat rolling through him, his body shaking as he pulled you down into him again and again, "Oh god, I'm- I'm gonna-"

The words were lost in a strangled moan, his body arching up off the couch as he found his release, his grip on you still tight. 

“Oh god, I’m,” you panted, crying out his name like a hymn, “I’m cumming,” you breathed out. It was all too good, like he was made for you just in this moment. 

Spencer's heart felt like it was going to burst as he heard you call his name, the sound like a prayer as your body trembled on top of him, "Yes, yes, yes," he whispered hoarsely, his arms holding you tightly against him, his own body still shaking with aftershocks from his orgasm, "That's it, baby, let go, let go for me."

Your body stopped moving, collapsing on top of him as you came undone, holding onto him like he might float away. He caught you against him as you collapsed on top of him, his body still throbbing with the aftershocks. He held you close, his arms wrapped tightly around you, his breathing ragged and labored. He nuzzled his face into your hair, his lips brushing against your skin, as he tried to slow his racing heart.

"That was... incredible," he panted, his voice still hoarse.

"That was..." your voice trailed off as you sat up quickly, realizing you were still clothed as she stood up and off the couch pathetically, "that was cheating, oh god."

Your sudden movement jerked Spencer out of his blissful state, and he looked up at you with wide eyes, his mind still fuzzy from the overwhelming pleasure, "Whoa, whoa, hey, calm down."

He sat up, his heart still racing as he reached for your hand, trying to steady you, "It's okay, it's okay, we're okay."

“No it’s not,” you whispered, pulling your hand back from him as he reached for you. It made his chest sting, but all he did was blink, “I think you should leave,” 

“What?”

“You should go, Spence,” you reiterated, eyes looking down at your feet, too embarrassed to meet his gaze.

“If that’s what you want me to do,” he spoke. His voice almost sounded broken and you didn’t like the feeling of being the one who caused it. 

“It is,” you replied quickly, arms folded across your chest. You turned away from him completely, ignoring the sound of the door slamming closed as he stepped outside.

[notanactressyayy]

—𝐰𝐞'𝐥𝐥 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐜𝐚𝐫, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐥𝐥 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐦𝐞—

pairing. ex! Natasha Romanoff x fem! reader

summary. in a day you simply wanted peace, two unexpected visitors showed up. for one of them, you were glad.

warnings. smut! I am NOT responsible for your content consumption! — making out, thigh riding, strap on usage, cursing, angst (w happy ending), soft dom Nat.

notes. my first language is portuguese, so I apologize for any grammar errors. feel free to give me advice, though!

divider credits: @cafekitsune ★

Natasha Romanoff was known as a cold, ruthless woman, who never cared for anyone besides herself. Most of the people didn't know this was due her past — the Red Room was always in complete secrecy, so they feared her. She was already used to it. Whenever she started something with someone, in the next day, she had an empty bed as a gift. To be completely honest, she always felt used. Men and women touched her, to leave her in the morning.

That changed when she met you.

You could say you'd changed her completely, for the best, of course. She became more open with you, learned to express herself better and was not known as the most selfish Avenger in the team anymore.

But just like people say, not everything is a bed of roses.

Instead of using that achievement to improve your relationship, she began to care a little too much about her team of superheroes. At some point, she was no longer paying attention to you.

Reports this, reports that. Missions and more missions. "I have to go somewhere with Cap." "I have to train with Tony to a mission." "I can't, I'll have to go with Clint."

When you confronted her about this, begging for her to understand and willing to help her change, she decided that it was a better option to part ways. You were devasted, and she saw it. That made her heart ache — someone actually lov— liked her enough to want to stay.

This was the one and only reason Natasha didn't forget about you. The only reason she thought about you everyday. The only reason she teared up whenever entering her car and seeing the polaroid with the heart pendant you gave her hanging on her rearview mirror, that she didn't dare to take down.

Today, you were leaving work, heavy tired steps echoing on the pavement's wooden floor as the moonlight illuminated the room. The building was already empty, the streets, darker than your thoughts.

As you started walking to the nearest bus stop, you heard quick footsteps behind you — it was already late and usually there was no people on the streets like this. You turned your head, "you gotta be kidding me".

"Hey, Y/n!" Peter exclaimed, running to catch up with you. "I didn't know you were going to be here at 11:30pm."

You rolled your eyes and took a sharp inhale, but like always, tried to be polite. This so called coworker of yours was always looking at you, following you everywhere, and asking you things, not always work-related. You always made it clear that you weren't interested in men, and he insisted on saying he could 'change your mind'.

"Hey, Peter." you replied, faking a smile and nodding. "You need me to review your documents again?"

"Oh, no. I was just wondering if you wanna go on a date with me. Did you see the restaurant that just opened over there? I could treat you to—"

"No, I don't." you cut him off, more harshly than you intended to. "Look, Peter, I'm sorry. But I don't want anything to do with you, alright? So if you want, go ahead and find somebody else."

You shook your head, not even waiting for his reply and picking up the pace again, quickly rushing to the bus stop. That's when the guy showed you a side that you just suspected, but preferred to believe he didn't have

"C'mon, Y/n." he grabbed your arm, nails digging into your skin. "You won't broke my heart, will you? You're such a gentle, beautiful, kind woman. You will give me a chance."

You cleared your throat, feeling him get closer, and thinking about a certain Red Head — how she would gently, delicately graze your skin with her fingers, so softly whispering into your ear and bringing you to her embrace—

"Back off."

"Oh, no." he laughed. Such a creep. "I won't back off. And if you don't cooperate, I'll make you give me a chance."

Your hands trembled now, silently praying to whoever was seeing this just call the cops or do something. You didn't know the guy anyway. He didn't talk to anyone at work beside you, and you never got to know him, you would never. That's when it would be a good use to have a spy girlfriend. Just the last thing you expected to happen was to hear the sound of a gun cocking behind you, and a very familiar female voice.

"She said back off."

Relief unconsciously washed upon you as your arm was released, only because of the gun, though. You knew that if if wasn't for her, who knows what could've happened there. Peter left, annoyed, but the Russian swore to herself that she'd make his life a living hell.

"... Natasha?" you whisper, turning around with a confused and even scared frown.

"Yes," she worriedly rubbed your arm, shooting you, slowly making the feeling of the disgusting hand fade away. "Are you okay?"

"I am..." you nodded subtly, leaning into her touch. "What are you doing here?"

"Well, I saw a woman being harassed. What was I supposed to do? Mind my business?" she said, obviously avoiding your question.

"You know this is not what I mean." you frowned, carefully letting go of her caress and wrapping your arms around yourself.

Natasha sighed, trying to think of a way to explain herself. 'Oh, I'm here because I miss you so much I can't even sleep anymore.'? No, it wouldn't do.

"I... followed you."

"Oh, great, so I'm being stalked twice today." you hissed, making Natasha look down with your harshness.

"No, Y/n.. I'm here for.. personal reasons. I saw you leaving work, and I noticed that guy following you. I decided to follow too, until he grabbed you and I knew I had to intervine." she explained quietly.

The fact she had said 'personal reasons' deeply hurt you, but you couldn't do anything, you had broken up after all. You nodded, and prepared yourself to walk tp the bus stop again.

"Wait," Natasha quickly stopped you, her eyebrows furrowed. "I won't let you go home like this."

This was something about the old Natasha you knew, the protective one. It was okay, you were tired, and a ride would be no harm. "Where's your getaway car?"

She smiled softly at your joke, and tilted her head. "Around the corner."

You two walked silently towards the vehicle, as she unlocked the doors with the keys and you entered the passenger seat. You threw your bag on the backseat before you could focus on the environment around you, and see the polaroid of you and Nat with the heart pendant you gave her hanging on the rearview mirror.

Natasha noticed your gaze as soon as she entered the driver seat, clearing her throat and starting the car's engine. "Couldn't bring myself to take those down."

You stayed silent, but your eyes could tell everything. I'm glad. Oh, I'm so glad.

Natasha remembered your address as if you hadn't broken up nine months ago, and when you reached your place, you too much disappointed for your own good.

"Thank you for the lift," you whispered, turning your body to be able to grab your bag from the backseat — in the exact same moment Natasha turned to unbuckle her seatbelt — your fronts touching, which made you two a little startled.

The problem was that you didn't pull away, neither of you. You slowly turned your head to meet Natasha's gaze, your face so close to hers you could feel her breath. Familiar. It was pure instinct, almost muscle memory, of the times she always kissed you goodbye when dropping you somewhere.

You didn't even notice your hand going up to hold the back of her neck, much less when she placed her hand on your thigh, and leaned in so your noses brushed. Natasha closed her eyes for a brief moment, almost savouring your closeness, your aura enveloping her once more. Then your lips barely, barely grazed, breath hitching, as she couldn't take it anymore.

The redhead pressed her lips against yours, giving them a long peck. It was surprising how much time you lasted without air. You didn't break the kiss, just darted the tip of your tongue out to lick her bottom lip, begging for entrance. She gave in, trying to pull you closer but being stopped by the goddamn control panel. As soon as you felt her tongue touching yours you realized that this was going too far. You pulled back harshly, leaving you two panting for air and a disappointed Nat.

"Do you..." you shakily breathed. "... wanna come in?"

"Mhm." Natasha hummed, turning off the engine. "Can I?"

You didn't answer, just opened the door and slipped out the car. As you entered, you could practically feel Natasha's eyes burning the place. How you didn't take down any picture of yours. How her stuff was spreading across the pavement. It gave her a sense of... hope? Of course, since she was in the same situation.

"So.. are you seeing anyone?" you asked her while kicking off your heels and leaving them by the door.

"I think you know the answer for that." the redhead practically hissed, making your head snap towards her.

"But I want you to say it." you retreated. "I want you to look at me in the eyes and tell me you didn't forget me. I want you to look at me in the eyes and tell me the reason of why you came to my town again and followed me when I left work. I want you to tell me the reason of why you kissed me just like we always did before."

"I didn't! I didn't forget you, Y/n!" Natasha snapped, looking away and tucking the loosen strands of hair of her braids behind her ears. "I didn't forget you and I never did. Alright? Happy now?"

"Is that so?" you laughed humorlessly, crossing your arms. "I thought you cared more about your superheroes buddies. Where are they now!?"

"I left them." Natasha replied, looking at you again with a mixture of anger and pain. "I left them and came back, to you, Y/n."

You froze at her words, swallowing your saliva. "... okay?"

"I came back here, because I wanted to at least a chance to explain myself. I wouldn't be able to live knowing that I hurt you, and that you think that I did it on purpose. So please, just give me a chance."

"...go on."

Natasha sighed in relief, exhaling the air she was holding. "I'm sure you know my story. You were the first one to know everything about it, about me. And I'm also sure you know you're the first one to ever love me. No one else ever loved me like you did."

You leaned against the kitchen counter, listening carefully to her words, ready to give her time and patience, like you usually did.

"... I didn't know what I was doing, Y/n. Every other relationship I had, ended in less than a week. Love is a weapon and it's letal for me, for people like me. I was, I am startled by all of this, by this fuzzy warm feeling that you always gave me, that you still do, in my thoughts.. the Avengers were my first family, and when I panicked, I tried to hang on to them. In order not to hurt you, and myself." she didn't even realize the tear rolling down her cheek, and shook her head. "That's it. I'm sorry for everything, but Y/n, you will always have a piece— you'll always have my whole heart in your hands. I'll get off your hair n—"

You couldn't. Not anymore. You rushed towards her and grabbed her face, cutting her off with a deep kiss. She was taking aback, but her hands traveled to your waist, pulling you flush against her, your fronts pressing. Nothing changed. Natasha pushed you backwards against your room's door, her tongue entering your mouth and dancing with yours. You could feel yourself getting lost in her, damn it, once more. It was like she had this spell on you — you were trapped, and didn't complain.

"Y/n," the russian uttered, hands slipping inside your shirt and giving your waist a squeeze. "I've got to have you again, at least for one last time. Please, just this once—"

Tired of her rambling, you smirked and grabbed her by the jacket, pulling her into a kiss again and dragging her into the room, slamming the door shut. Natasha took this as a 'yes', and her hands, under you shirt, went to unclasp your bra, making it fall to the ground and a groan of relief escape your throat. Before she could remove the rest of the fabric of your body, you stopped her, pushing her down to the bed.

"I always wanted to do that," you started to slowly, so slow that it almost tortured her take off your clothes, stripteasing for her.

"Shit, Y/n." she quickly started to get rid off her jacket, snd everything else she was wearing. You were careful not to trip on the pile of clothes on the floor, and walked over to her again, straddling her leg on the edge of the bed.

Natasha's hand grabbed your hips roughly, keeping you in place and it didn't take two seconds before you started to grind on her. "Nat," you breathed, arms going to circle her neck.

"Who else touched you like this while I was away?" she growled in your ear, pressing your body against hers. "Answer me,"

"No one," you whined, giving her a subtle shake of your head. "No one, Natty. J-just myself,"

"My poor girl," Nat began to roam her hands up your sides, her lips pressing kisses on your jawline, "I'm so sorry I wasn't there to help,"

"You're here now..!" you gasped, your movements faster, as she began to move her thigh to stimulate you more.

"And I don't plan on going away," Natasha murmured, tilting your head to look at her in the eyes. Even in your high, you could make sense of her words, and the weight they beared.

"Nat!" you moaned, closing your eyes shut. "I need... please.. I—I need you, inside me."

Natasha almost lost her mind with that, grabbing your hips and pinning you down to the bed. She reached her arm out for the drawer that she hoped your strap still was, and luckily, she was right. "I'm gonna fuck you like never before, Y/n." she attached the silicone cock to her hips with urgency, holding your hips in place as she ran the tip of it across your folds, making you whine in need.

"Don't tease me," you gently gripped her arms on your hips and looked at her with dreamy eyes. She couldn't resist — but your walls were so tight she had to put a little effort to enter you.

"Holy fuck, baby." she moved her hand to brush your hair behind your ear, giving you a little time to get used to the length. "So fucking tight for me,"

"I—" you breathed, interrupted when Nat started to slowly move in and out you, her red hair falling into your face. You moaned, putting her hair up in a makeshift ponytail and with your free hand, holding her neck. "God, I missed you,"

Natasha pounded faster in you with those words, your moans only getting louder by the second. She grabbed one of your legs and placed it over her shoulder, allowing her to hit your g-spot repeatedly. You thumb went to your mouth, wetting it and starting to rub her clit — she couldn't say she expected that, her soft moans saying everything.

"Cum with me," you breathlessly requested, eyes fluttering close. Natasha didn't have to be asked twice. Her hips slammed into yours, the wet sounds of her thrusting echoing the room. "Natty!"

You back arched, head thrown backwards as your orgasm hit you. Natasha's legs shook, her weight falling onto you and your arms immediately wrapping around her, keeping her close.

"Don't make me go away,"

"I could never."

[toruro]

— ✧ to the brim

pairing. kim mingyu x reader

description. all your sweet husband wants is to put a baby into you—is that so bad?

↳ tags. smut (18+), breeding kink, husband!mingyu, filthy honestly

w/c. 2.9k

a/n. request .. i couldnt hold back

you shut your eyes tight, squirming against the soft linen sheets as your husband holds you down. mingyu’s thick, strong arm latches onto your hips, pushing them back down whenever you dig your heels into the mattress and lift them up.

his tongue is lapping at your cunt, the lower half of his face slowly turning into a slobbering, dripping mess. “gyu,” you cry out, as he brings up a single finger and plunges it into your gummy walls, rubbing against them relentlessly and moves his mouth to your clit.

this is mingyu’s treat, as he put it five minutes earlier when you rolled on top of him this morning. you’d spent a few peaceful minutes laying on his sheet as he stroked his fingers through your hair as you drowsily murmured something about enjoying this weekend. of course, mingyu being the loving, caring, giving husband that he is, he offered to go down on you to make sure your day started off a little extra sweet.

now, as mingyu promised, you’re on the verge of your likely first of many orgasms for the next two days, nearly having to grab a pillow to cover your mouth so you don’t get a noise complaint from your neighbors.

reaching down to pull his hair, mingyu moans against your core when you tug at the thick brown locks, the vibrations building up that knot that he’s been so carefully tying. he’s looking you right in the eyes and the way his eyelids are half closed, almost as if he’s enjoying this as much as you (he probably is), has that knot being pulled so tight that you can’t help but let tears prick at corner of your eyes when it finally snaps.

mingyu fucks his fingers into you so fast it has you seeing stars as you ride out your orgasm, his demanding grip on your waist finally being release so you can swivel your hips to meet the movements of his hands. coming down with cries of his name and heavy pants, mingyu finally frees your overstimulated cunt of his ministrations, not breaking his gaze on you.

“you liked that?” he asks jokingly, peeling himself away from your wet thighs, glistening chin on display under the morning glow. rolling your eyes as you finally catch your breath, you let your hiked up knees fall to the bed as mingyu crawls up to you, pressing a messy kiss on your lips.

wincing slightly at the feeling of your own wetness against your cheeks, you push his face away gently. “of course i liked that,” you mumble, face burning.

mingyu chuckles, rolling over and laying in his back next to you, legs intertwined with yours. “just making sure angel,” he replies, bringing up a finger to wipe away some of the wetness from his lips, watching you as you shimmy your panties back on. he pouts when he realizes you’re getting up, fisting and unfisting his hand as he reaches out for you in a grabbing motion. “want more, angel.”

you consider going along with whatever plans mingyu has, and although you are quite turned on, you also feel the need to be a little productive. “i thought this was my treat, was it not?” you retort, swinging your legs over the bed and standing up, making your way out the door.

mingyu huffs at your response, “you’re lame,” throwing his head back. he kicks his legs around in the bed with a faux tantrum, rolling over to your side—he insists it’s warmer—and reaches for your phone. “hey babe, what’s your password again?” he calls out to you in a teasing tone when you’re at the bedroom door.

“mingyu there’s no way you just asked me that,” you sigh, knowing where this is going. he looks up at you with a smug grin as he holds your phone in the air.

“i know,” he says smugly, ”i just want to hear you say it.”

warmth permeates your body at his honesty, and you ears burn as you turn away, embarrassed. “it’s your birthday…”

“aww, really?” he coos as if you haven’t repeated this a million times.

“yes babe,” you mumble, walking out the door. “don’t milk it, or i’ll change it.”

mingyu gasps from the bed. “you would never,” he yells in disbelief.

“would so!” you yell back, grinning to yourself knowing that it’s a damn lie. “what are you doing on my phone anyways?” you ask curiously from the kitchen.

“‘m checking your calendar,” he replies, and from the open door you can see him scrolling through what you can only assume is your period app. you, once again, have an idea of where this is going to go, except this time you aren’t sure if you’ll be able to control yourself—not with the way you instinctively press your thighs together as you remember that it’s that time of month.

no, not that time of month—the other time of month.

you don’t even have time to think about what you’re going to make for breakfast because mingyu is thudding down the hallway and circling his large hand around your wrist and dragging you back to the bedroom. you can’t even find it in you to protest at this point, the familiar pooling of heat at the base of your stomach reinforcing the fact that you want—no, need—this as much as him.

you stumble over your steps but mingyu’s grip on you is tight and steady and before you know it he has you in the air and thrown onto the mattress. “you’re already prepped right angel?” mingyu confirms as he pushes his boxers down before clambering on top of you, resting himself between your legs.

“i dunno,” you tease, wrapping your arms around his neck to bring him down into a fierce kiss. “you kind of did eat me out like five minutes ago, did you forget?”

“how could i?” mingyu grins, tugging at the hem of your (his) shirt as a signal to take it off. “you look so hot when you cum,” he adds, “wish i could take a picture and make it my wallpaper or something.” he yanks down your soiled panties once more, making it a personal goal for himself to make sure you don’t get the chance to put them back on this morning.

“you already have pictures,” you remind him, slipping off mingyu’s shirt from your body, falling back onto the sheets as he stares down at you, his painfully hard length pressing into your thigh.

“yeah but they aren’t my wallpaper,” mingyu whines, flicking your clit once and chuckling at the way your body jerks.

“maybe because i don’t want—i don’t know—dokyeom to see me naked every time you open your phone.”

“ugh, you’re right—i hate sharing,” he agrees, nudging his tip against your folds. “you ready angel?”

"uh-huh," you murmur, lifting your hips slightly so he can line himself up with your hole. his bulbous tip hardly pushes in an inch before you're whining out his name and pushing the side of your face into the mattress from the stretch.

not even years with mingyu can prepare you for the way his cock is always so thick and long—the initial stretch is always a challenge, but the sensation of being split in two by your one and only husband has become one that you cherish.

"fuck," mingyu grunts, letting his had fall to your shoulder as he eases his cock into your cunt. "you're fucking sucking me in babe," he continues as he finally bottoms out. pressing kissing onto your skin, you dig your nails into mingyu's back as he allows you to adjust.

when you start to involuntarily rock your hips into his, mingyu takes this as his chance to take control, pressing his arms into your pelvis to still your movements. looking up at him with confusion, his only response is a smirk as he roughly snaps his hips back, the harsh drag of his cock making your vision go hazy and your mind go dizzy. without warning, he ruts back into you, and he feels so close that you nearly feel his cock pulsing inside of your cunt.

the sound of your soaked pussy and mingyu's cock colliding echos through the room, a wet puddle forming beneath the area you connect. your body shakes on the mattress with every thrust, his hips sending you in a back and forth motion as you reach for his hand to stabilize yourself.

"fuck, how are you always this tight?" he moans, slick from your cunt running down his thigh as he angles himself higher above you.

"f-feels so good gyu," you manage to gasp, your legs weakening, their grip on his hips growing loose. "baby, your shoulders—fuck—ca-can you—can i—" you beg incandescently, not making much sense but it seems mingyu understands the message as he slows down his movements.

"god yes." grabbing your legs, he pushes them up so that your knees are pressing against your chest. you secure them in their spot by wrapping your hands under your knees, but the position doesn't last for long before mingyu throws each leg over his shoulder so your ankles touch behind his neck. mingyu latches his arms over your legs that are now pressed against his chest, before pulling his hips back and ramming back into you.

the sound of skin slapping against skin rings in your ears and with every batter of his cock against that one spot in your cunt, you feel closer and closer to white, hot release. you grapple at the sheets around you, not being able to hold your husband's hands, and squirm at the feeling of his cock twitch inside of you.

"you close gyu? 'm close," you moan.

"yeah—shit—i can tell babe, you're squeezing me so tight, so good. gonna milk me dry angel?" he grunts, pressing down further so you're nearly bent in half.

"i wanna," you babble mindlessly, "wanna cum with you—wanna have your cum gyu—"

even in your hazy state, you catch the way mingyu's eyes darken at your words. "fuck say that again," he orders.

"want your cum!" you cry out, feeling the hot coil in your stomach grow close to it's end. "fill me up gyu, 'm so close, 'm ready—please, please, please, gimme your cum gyu, please." your words are going through mingyu's ears and straight down to his cock and then he's slamming into you so hard you think you might fall off the face of the earth.

"fucking perfect pussy, 'm gonna fill you up, fill you up so good your tummy's gonna be all swollen with my baby," mingyu moans with thick spurts of his seed shooting through you, marking your cunt as his. the feeling has your back arching off the mattress, legs shaking over his shoulders as you shriek his name. "you like that?"

"mingyu—shit! love it, love your cum, love you!" you whine as pleasure slams through your body, legs giving out from the tension so they fall by mingyu's side so he can continue fucking into you despite his own overstimulation.

he watches the way you twitch at every movement, looking down at the part when his cock kisses your pussy, adoring the way he's able to fuck all his dripping seed back into you, muttering to himself about how he's gotta "make sure you don't waste a drop."

within a few moments you're both intertwined as an overstimulated mess, mingyu finally stilling inside of you as you pant for breath. "think it worked?" he murmurs, and you lift your head to look down at your core.

"it'd better," you reply, letting mingyu lean down to kiss you. then, against his lips, you continue, "we fucked up the sheets for this." you shift a little and then you feel the cool wet spot that has formed, cringing at how you already have to change the sheets.

"mm, we can just make use of the space…you know, since it's already so messy," mingyu suggest, pulling away from your lips and now that he's not kissing you, you're hyper aware of the way he's growing hard inside of you.

"mingyu—"

"c'mon angel, you know you want to. need to see you brimming with my cum," he eggs you on, grabbing your waist and turning you over on your stomach while he's still inside of you. you feel the stretch from inside of your pussy return, and mingyu's words are doing nothing but filthy things to you because you feel yourself growing warmer at the thought of his cum seeping out of you.

"please," you squeak out when he forcefully yanks your hips up so your ass is in the air, lined up with mingyu's pelvis.

"so needy," mingyu chuckles, pulling his length out halfway, placing a hand on your ass to steady himself. your whole core is covered in wetness, a mix of his saliva from earlier when he went down on you, his cum, and your own wetness. the sticky mixture coats both of your bodies now, and mingyu can't help but spiral at the idea that after this, you're going to be filled with even more of his cum.

he snaps his hips so his cock slamming back into you with such sheer force that you lurch forward, the only thing holding you in your spot being mingyu's grip on your lower half. "bet you wanted this—fuck—" he mutters out, each word punctuated with increasingly sharp thrusts, "—from the moment you woke up. wanted to be fucked raw. wanted me to dump my cum inside of your perfect fucking pussy."

"yes!" you agree without a thought to your head, arms giving out so your face is pressing into the mattress now. your moans are a bit muffled and mingyu is slightly annoyed that he can't hear you to your fullest, releasing his irritation by plunging his cock into your gaping cunt harder and harder, which has you crying out louder and louder.

"holy fuck, you're so tight—are you gonna cum already?" mingyu groans as you arch your back and push your ass back to meet his thrusts, chasing your third orgasm of the day.

"s-sorry gyu—it feels s-so so good," you blabber, tears springing at your eyes as a sob rips at your throat. you're so close already, your core squeezing and twitching uncontrollably at the immense stimulation and pleasure that's coming over you. you're tethering on to whatever last bit of self control you have as mingyu abuses your warm, wet walls with his cock.

"don't apologize angel," mingyu reminds you, but it's hard to believe him when his voice sounds so strained. you can tell he's refraining, holding himself back from letting loose and now you're mind is going blank at the thought of mingyu cumming inside you as tears begin to streak down your cheeks.

"oh my god, mingyu, 'm getting close," you warn, body growing limp as your thighs begin to cramp.

"fuck, my precious angel gonna cum on my cock? gonna make a mess?"

"yes, love your cock mingyu, love it, need it," you plead. "can i have your cum? wan' more of your cum gyu—feels so good." your vocabulary is reducing to that of a five-year olds (save for the repeated begging for mingyu's seed) and you can't help but hiccup over yourself.

"wan' my cum? fuck, i'll give you my cum—breeding you like the good fucking girl you are," mingyu spits out, jamming his cock into you with sloppy but determined thrusts. they're erratic and mindless but it has your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you cum for the third time this morning.

muffling your cries with the sheets underneath you, the way you're bawling out his name and pleading, "fill me up gyu, do it deep," has him letting go of all notions of self control.

he's cumming inside of you once more with one last thrust, murmuring, "gonna fuck a baby into you—you want that? wanna have my babies, angel?"

"yes gyu—fuck!" you moan at the feeling of his load being squirted inside of you, the hot ropes of cum seeming endless as the sensation helps you ride out the last of your orgasm.

"fuck, i've filled you to the brim," mingyu groans, looking down at the way his and your liquids cream the base of his cock and balls, the mess dripping down onto the linen. "what a mess," he mumbles to himself, more satisfied with himself than anything.

you're still slightly shaking, the past three orgasms fully catching up to you with a harsh wave of exhaustion that has your body falling forward flat onto the mattress, mingyu slipping out of you in the process. you let out a soft groan at the feeling of being empty, but have no time to dwell on the thought as mingyu flips you over again so you're lying on your back.

you're able to see the look on his face now, finally facing him, and the way his eyes sparkle down at you has your stomach tumbling in adoration. "i love you," mingyu states, eyes trailing down from your face back down to your cunt.

"i love you too," you chuckle before saying, "my eyes are up here lover boy." mingyu rolls his eyes, but doesn't peel his eyes away. "take a picture babe, it'll last longer." mingyu's eyes shoot up at that.

"can i?"

"only if you send it to me too."

a/n. hope you enjoyed! please like and reblog and let me know how u liked this c:

[mythicalmaven]

(I used a screenshot of the original request in here, because I wans't able to reply to the original request anymore, whoops)

Here it finally is! Please let me know what you thought of it :) Requests are open btw! Feel free to request anything :) I'm considering to do kinktober as well this year, so leave your requests for that as well :)

Supposed To Be Mine - Charles Leclerc (ONESHOT)

Masterlist ↳pairing: charles leclerc x female!reader ↳word count: 4.9K ↳warnings: friends to lovers, jealous!sex, jealousy, (minor) possessiveness, jealous Charles, smut, 18+(MDNI!), handjob (m!receiving), pinv ↳summary: In which Oscar wins the Azerbaijan GP & Charles gets jealous because their mutual friend decides to celebrate with Oscar& not him (or so he thinks). This results in pent up emotions, a heated argument & of course, jealous sex

It was Sunday, September 15th when you found yourself making your way through the paddock. The sun was shining bright and the atmosphere was making you feel ecstatic. You, a familiar face on the grid, had been here to support your friends. While you usually worked as a member of the F1 TV team during Grand Prix, this weekend you were off duty, free to fully enjoy the festivities of the Grand Prix.

Over the years, you'd built strong friendships with most of the grid, but there were three drivers you were particularly close to: Oscar, Charles, and Alex. Each friendship had grown naturally, but in distinct ways.

Alex was the one who felt like a brother from the start. You clicked immediately, sharing the same dry humor, hobbies, and an undeniable love for animals. He was always there for you—whether it was picking you up from the club after too many drinks or cheering you up when your heart got broken again. If there was one word to describe your bond, it was siblings.

Then there was Oscar, your roommate. He ticked all the boxes for the perfect best friend. Your friendship took time to blossom, but once it did, you both quickly realized how well you fit together, purely platonically. The thought of taking it further had never crossed your minds—it just wasn’t like that. After moving to Monaco, you’d struggled to find an apartment, so Oscar offered you a place to stay. A year later, you were still living together because, honestly, it was too much fun to stop.

Then last, but certainly not least, Charles. Your bond with him was something else entirely. The connection between you felt effortless, almost surreal. He was the friend you could call at any hour to talk about anything or nothing. You could spend hours in comfortable silence, never growing bored. But Charles was also the friend that you had secretly been in love with for years. You knew you shouldn't be, your friendship worth way too much to risk it for a stupid crush. But no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t get over him. Every time you dated someone else, it always came back to Charles.

But even if you'd allow yourself to feel the way you did about him, you'd already given up the hope of him ever feeling the same despite your friends insisting otherwise, pointing out how he smiled brighter when he was around you or how his gaze lingered a little longer. You were unable to believe it, the scenario seeming to good to be true.

There were moments—fleeting, breathless moments—when you thought something was there. Moments where your faces hovered inches apart, breaths mingling, hearts pounding. But right before anything could happen, one of you would pull back, retreating before the tension broke, both of you pretending it had never happened.

Charles had been in love with you longer than he cared to admit. Everything about you captivated him—the way your laughter filled a room, the ease with which you could calm him when he was frustrated, the way you just got him without him needing to explain a thing. Around you, he felt at ease and yet so unbelievably nervous. His heart would race whenever you were near, his palms would get sweaty, and he could feel the tension in his chest and stomach. There were so many times he’d wanted to pull you close, to feel your body against his, but something always stopped him.

It was fear. Fear that you would notice how much he felt for you and that it would scare you off. The thought of you realizing the depth of his feelings terrified him, because losing you, even as just a friend, was unthinkable. He tried to keep a distance for that reason, but it was impossible. You had this way of driving him wild without even trying, leaving him helpless in the wake of his emotions.

He’d fantasized about you more often than he dared to admit—so many nights spent alone in his apartment, hand slipping beneath his waistband, your name falling from his lips in breathless whispers. But it wasn’t just the physical desire; it was how much he felt when he was around you. You made him feel alive in a way no one else could.

And then, there was Oscar. The way you two were so close, always together, always laughing, sent a pang of jealousy through him. You said there was nothing romantic between you, but sometimes, Charles couldn’t help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, you felt something for him. It ate at him, the idea of someone else having what he wanted so desperately. He didn’t know how much longer he could hold back.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺

The roar of engines echoed across the pit lane as the top three finishers of the Azerbaijan Grand Prix parked their cars by their respective signs. Charles finished 2nd, which made you incredibly excited for him, but your excitement today reached an even higher level by the one who finished first. Oscar just won his second Grand Prix in F1 and you were feeling so incredibly proud.

You were standing at the front of the crowd, engulfing Oscar's mom in a crushing hug, sharing your mutual excitement. You looked up at Oscar climbing out of the car, bumping his fist in the air, cheering enthusiastically.

"God, look at him, finally a win he is allowing himself to enjoy!" you chimed to his mom.

You watched as Oscar ran straight into the arms of his engineers, their shared happiness palpable in the air. The joy between them was infectious, and you couldn’t help but smile as you took in the scene.

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Charles climbing out of his car in the background, your heart skipping a beat at the sight of him. Post-race Charles always did things to you that you couldn't quite explain. You wanted to wave, but he seemed busy with his team, so you decided to congratulate him on his podium later.

Your attention shifted back to Oscar just as he approached his mum, pulling her into a warm embrace while carefully avoiding bumping her with his helmet.

"I'm so proud of you, darling!" she cooed, squeezing him a little tighter before they eventually pulled apart.

Oscar removed his helmet and reached up to pull off his balaclava, revealing a blissed-out expression. His smile was radiant, a mix of joy and relief, as if the weight of the race had melted away in that victorious moment.

He caught your eye, and his grin widened. "I did it! I actually did it!" he exclaimed, still sounding like he couldn’t quite believe it.

"You did! You really did!" you gushed, your smile matching his as you shared in his happiness.

Without warning, Oscar launched himself at you, wrapping his arms around you and lifting you over the fence you’d been leaning against. He hugged you tightly, spinning you around as both of you laughed, the sound of your shared joy echoing across the pit lane.

The cameras were all pointed in your direction, capturing the moment. To you and Oscar, it was nothing more than two best friends celebrating a hard-fought victory. But to the outside world, the scene looked far more intimate than it felt.

Charles stood at a distance, watching the moment unfold. His chest tightened as he took in the sight of you and Oscar together, laughter and smiles shared so easily between you. You’d told him there was nothing going on with Oscar, that the two of you were just best friends—but looking at you now, Charles couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy.

It hurt. It hurt to see you in Oscar’s arms, when he wished so desperately that it was him instead. He felt a wave of frustration, jealousy swirling inside him. Oscar was his friend, someone he genuinely liked, but seeing you together like that made it hard to think straight. The fear that Oscar might steal you away—his girl, even though you weren’t even his—gnawed at him.

“She said there was nothing between them,” he muttered under his breath, trying to convince himself.

Pierre appeared beside him, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I think it’s not what it looks like, mate," he offered, sensing Charles’ mood.

Charles shook his head, frustration still bubbling beneath the surface. "That’s what they always say when they’re denying it," he replied, his voice low. "I know she’s single, and she can do whatever she wants with whoever she wants, but… it just hurts."

Pierre gave him a sympathetic look, but Charles couldn’t shake the feeling. He wanted to punch something, not because he hated Oscar—he liked Oscar—but because seeing you so close to him made him feel like he was losing you, even though you were never his to begin with.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺

Later in the day, as the adrenaline from the race began to wear off, you found yourself searching for Charles. You had spent the afternoon immersed in the celebrations with Oscar and the McLaren team, reveling in their victory. Despite the fun, your thoughts kept drifting back to Charles.

Navigating through the bustling paddock, you scanned the area for any sign of him. You wanted to offer your congratulations and express how proud you were, but Charles seemed to have vanished.

When you stepped into the Ferrari motorhome, you were greeted by Carlos. The Spaniard offered you a small, knowing smile. "Hey," he said as he approached you.

"Hey, have you seen Charles?" you asked, absentmindedly twirling a stray strand of hair.

Carlos's smile turned apologetic. "He already left for the hotel. Said something about not feeling up to it today."

Your heart sank a bit. "Oh, I wanted to congratulate him earlier, but I got caught up with the celebrations."

A flicker of realization crossed Carlos's face. "Ah, that explains why he seemed so on edge when he came back here."

Confusion clouded your expression. "What do you mean?"

Carlos’s eyes twinkled with a hint of mischief. "I think Charles got a bit unsettled seeing you so close with Oscar instead of him."

You frowned, trying to make sense of it. "Why would he be annoyed? My best friend won the race. Of course I celebrated with him. It's not like I didn't want to celebrate with Charles, it's just that Oscar is my best friend. And he also deserves the attention when he achieves something amazing like this."

Carlos’s smirk widened slightly. "That’s exactly his problem."

You stood there, grappling with the situation, struggling to find the right words. Carlos seemed to sense your confusion and gently placed a hand on your shoulder. "Maybe you should talk to him. There might be more going on between you two than you realize."

His words hung in the air, adding a new layer to your thoughts as you considered the possibility of unspoken feelings and misunderstandings.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺

"You seemed awfully intimate with Piastri this afternoon, anything unfolding there?" you heard Alex tease on through the phone.

He had called you had texted that you were on the way back to the hotel, something you often did to just gossip and rant about everything that went on.

You rolled your eyes, and huffed "Why does everybody keep saying that. Not even in my wildest dreams, ew" you whined "I know he's good looking, I'm not blind, but the idea of doing something with him revolts me just as much as it revolts him"

The chuckle that Alex let out was audible to you "Well, to be fair, it didn't look like nothing on camera" he started, another chuckle leaving his lips "Have you checked your social media lately? Apparently the camera's catched Charles' reaction to your little moment with Oscar. The video is going quite viral. He is shooting daggers at Oscar, man. The jealousy is literally burning in his eyes"

You sighed "Don't, Alex" you whispered "Don't give me hope"

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺

You arrived at Charles's hotel room with a mix of anxiety and frustration swirling inside you. His abrupt disappearance after the celebration, coupled with his avoidance of your calls, had left you feeling unsettled and concerned. Your knuckles rapped against the door, the sound echoing in the empty hallway. When Charles finally opened it, his face was a mask of irritation, the tension in his posture unmistakable.

“What’s going on?” you demanded, stepping past him before he could react.

Charles’s eyes were dark with frustration. “Nothing,” he snapped, but the rigidity in his stance and the clenched fists he tried to hide told a different story.

You let out a sigh, frustration bubbling up inside you. “I know you’re lying,” you insisted, moving to sit on the edge of his bed, trying to steady your breathing. “Please, just talk to me. Tell me what’s wrong. What did I do?”

Charles stood with his back to you, his breathing shallow and uneven. “Why him?” he finally asked, his voice strained and raw.

Confusion creased your brow. “What are you talking about?”

Charles’s frustration finally erupted. “Why did you celebrate with Oscar and not with me? I finished second. I deserved some attention too.”

You took a deep breath, trying to stay calm despite the rising tension. “Oscar’s my best friend too. This win was a big deal for him. I wanted to be there for him. I tried to find you, but you were already gone.”

Charles’s eyes flashed with hurt and jealousy, a dark storm clouding his gaze. “It feels like you care more about him than me. It fucking hurts to see you so close to him, probably even—”

His words struck a nerve, causing irritation to flare within you. “Oscar and I are just friends, Charles.” You stated, your anger bubbled over. “And so what if it was more? Why does it matter to you? I’m not your property. You dont get to decide who I spend time with. You’re my best friend, not my boyfriend.”

Charles’s face flushed with frustration, his voice rising with each word. “Merde, for fuck’s sake, I don’t want to be your best friend!”

His declaration stunned you, a mix of hurt and anger surging within you, causing tears to well up in your eyes. “Well, if you don’t want to be my best friend, I might as well go back to Oscar then. Since, according to you, that’s where I prefer to be. You apparently know me better than I do!”

Without waiting for a response, you turned to leave, but Charles’s hand shot out, grabbing your wrist with a desperate grip. His eyes burned with an intense emotion, a mixture of longing and possessiveness that was almost palpable. Before you could react, he pulled you close, his lips crashing against yours in a kiss that was both fierce and consuming.

The kiss was rough, charged with pent-up emotions. Charles’s lips moved against yours with an urgent hunger, a reflection of the depth of his feelings. The heat of his body pressed against yours, every touch and caress infused with an intensity that left you breathless. His hands roamed over your curves, claiming you with each possessive stroke. You could feel the undeniable pressure of his arousal pressing against you, intensifying the moment.

He guided you gently back toward the bed, his touch both tender and commanding. Slowly, he lowered you down onto it, his hands caressing your sides with a reverence that spoke of his deep feelings for you. He leaned over you, his breath warm against your skin. “I don’t want to be your best friend,” he said, his voice heavy with desire. “I want to be your boyfriend.”

You were taken aback by his declaration, the words resonating deeply within you. Before you could respond, Charles’s lips were on yours again, kissing you with a fierce passion that left you breathless. His hands gripped your waist, pulling you closer, as he explored your body with a mix of urgency and tenderness.

You moaned softly, the sound escaping your lips as his touch ignited a fire within you. Charles’s arousal was evident, his body pressing against yours in a way that heightened your senses. “Tell me you think about me at night and not him,” he demanded, his voice husky and filled with longing.

The world around you seemed to dissolve as Charles’s touch and kisses overwhelmed your senses. His hands roamed over your body, exploring, caressing, igniting every nerve with a mix of desperation and adoration. His touch was both possessive and tender, his kisses deep and demanding.

“Tell me,” he urged, his voice a low, heated whisper. “Tell me you scream my name when you come and not his.”

You met his intense gaze, your voice breathless and filled with yearning. “Only you, Charles. It has always been you.”

Charles’s eyes darkened with satisfaction, his expression softening slightly as he continued his intimate exploration. He guided your hands to his jeans, his breathing ragged with desire. “Have you ever thought about him like this?” he asked, his voice a rough whisper. “Touched him like this?”

You looked up at him, your eyes filled with a mixture of defiance and affection. “It’s only you, Charles,” you replied, your voice sultry. “I never saw Oscar that way.”

Charles’s frustration and desire mingled as he felt your touch, his body tensing and his control slipping. He moaned softly, a deep, guttural sound that reflected his overwhelmed state. His hands gripped the edge of the bed for support as you palmed him through his jeans, your touch eliciting a series of desperate groans from him.

Unable to hold back any longer, you undid the button of his jeans and slid your hand inside, taking him in your grasp. Charles gasped, his breathing coming in short, erratic bursts. “F-Fuck,” he whimpered, his voice strained. “That feels so good.” His body tensed and trembled, overwhelmed by the sensation of your touch. “J-Just like that,” he gasped, his voice a desperate, needy growl. “Show me you’re mine. I want you to think about me every time you touch yourself. I hope that after tonight, you can never touch another man without thinking about me.”

You looked at him, your eyes filled with passion. “It’s already been like that for years,” you whispered, your voice trembling with desire.

Charles’s gaze softened for a moment, but his need took over. He flipped you back onto the bed with a sudden, urgent intensity. His movements were driven by a deep-seated desire, his lips finding yours again, kissing you with a feverish passion that made your heart race.

As he undressed you, his touch was both deliberate and passionate. He removed the last bits of his clothing with a mix of urgency and tenderness, his hands lingering on your skin, savoring the feel of you beneath him. He paused, looking into your eyes with a mixture of tenderness and desire. “Are you sure you want this?” he asked, his voice a low, heated whisper. “Tell me, do you want this as much as I do?”

You nodded, your voice breathless with anticipation. “Yes, Charles. I want you. I want all of you.”

Charles’s eyes darkened with satisfaction as he positioned himself above you. His hands continued their intimate exploration, his kisses trailing down your neck and shoulders with a mix of urgency and tenderness. Each touch was a declaration of his intense feelings, a blend of passion and possession that left you craving more.

As the intensity of the moment built, Charles’s control wavered. He pulled back slightly, his eyes filled with a mixture of need and desire. “Tell me you’re mine,” he urged, his voice a rough whisper. “I want to hear you say it, mon amour”

You looked at him, your body trembling with desire as he continued to touch and kiss

you. “I’m yours, Charles,” you whispered, your voice trembling with both need and certainty.

Charles’s expression softened into one of profound relief and adoration, but a trace of jealousy lingered in his eyes, his gaze never leaving yours. As he positioned himself between your legs, there was a mixture of tenderness and possessiveness in his touch. “I’ve wanted this for so long,” he murmured, his voice filled with deep emotion and a hint of a possessive edge.

With that, he entered you slowly, his movements tender yet unmistakably possessive. His thrusts were gentle and loving, but each one was infused with a sense of claiming, as though he was marking you as his own. His kisses were gentle but urgent, his lips traveling down your neck as he began to suck and nibble, leaving marks that would clearly show his affection and his possessiveness.

You gasped, feeling the intensity of his touch. “Charles, be careful. They will be visible,” you said, your voice a mixture of concern and pleasure.

Charles’s eyes darkened with a mix of satisfaction and jealousy. “That’s the point,” he murmured against your skin, his voice a low growl filled with both desire and a possessive undertone. “I want him to see and know that you belong to me. I want him to see what he’s missing, that you’re mine and mine alone.”

His words stirred something deep within you, causing a moan to escape your lips that was loud and unrestrained, a testament to the intense pleasure you were experiencing. Your hand instinctively traveled up to his neck, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pulled gently but firmly. The sensation of his hair being tugged caused him to shiver, and he let out a deep, guttural moan that reverberated against your skin.

Charles’s reaction was immediate and visceral. He groaned softly, his breath coming in ragged bursts as the pull on his hair heightened his arousal. “Fuck...” he whispered, his voice trembling with both pleasure and disbelief. The feeling of your fingers in his hair only intensified his longing, making him feel as though he were losing control. “Merde… that feels so good,” he muttered, his tone rough and desperate. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

The way you tugged at his hair drove him to new heights of pleasure, his moans growing louder and more fervent as he lost himself in the sensations. Each pull sent a jolt of electricity through him, making his movements more urgent and fervent, as though he were trying to convey just how deeply your touch affected him.

As he continued, his thrusts maintained a balance of gentle passion and possessive claim, his hands gripping you with a mix of tenderness and assertion. The rhythm of his movements was both caring and commanding, a reflection of his deep, conflicted emotions. His kisses left a trail of marks, each one a silent declaration of his fierce, consuming love and possessiveness.

Charles’s eyes lock onto yours, his breath coming in short, uneven bursts. “I-I’m so close,” he gasps, his voice strained with the intensity of the moment. The desperate need in his eyes makes your heart race, his body pressing into yours with a fervor that only heightens your own arousal.

You can barely hold back your own pleasure, the sensations coursing through you almost overwhelming. “Me too” you moan, your voice trembling as you inch closer to the edge. “Come for me, Charles,” 

Your encouragement is the final push he needs, and his body reacts instantly. The combination of your words and the electric tension between you drives him over the edge. The urgency in Charles’s movements and the heat of his gaze as tumbles over the edge draws you to the peak of your ecstasy with him.

As the two of you reached the peak of your intimacy, Charles’s moans mingled with your own, creating a symphony of pleasure and connection that echoed through the room. The shared release was an explosion of ecstasy that left you both trembling and gasping, entwined in the aftermath of your union. 

When the world finally settled and the waves of pleasure began to recede, Charles held you close, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he whispered, “God, you have no idea how long I’ve been in love with you.”

You smiled through your own breathless satisfaction, responding softly, “I could say the same to you.”

Charles’s expression softened further as he kissed you tenderly, his hands caressing your skin with a gentleness that spoke of his deep affection. The moment was filled with a profound sense of connection and fulfillment, a testament to the depth of his feelings and the strength of your bond.

masterlist

[honey-flustered]

Kinktober Day 2: Free Use

Beefy!Mean!Gross!Pervert!Roommate!Bucky x Agent!Fem!Reader

Summary: Being used by your awful roommate because you owe it to him.

Warnings: 18+ smut, dirty talk, degradation kink, rough unprotected p in v, creampie, bucky puts his foot on reader’s head

You hate him. With every fiber of your being. In every sense, of meaning and of every syllable of the word—you hate James Buchanan Barnes.

You thought you’d done right by offering to take in the former winter soldier, wanting to apologize on behalf of your late great-grandfather for his involvement in the HYDRA experiments. Bucky was clearly down on his luck still searching for purpose and feeling undeserving of his peers assistance.

That’s when you’d came along. A friend of Steve Rogers who just so happened to be a direct descendant of a evil HYDRA scientist. You humbly confessed this tragic secret, suggesting to Steve that you’d gladly be the closure Bucky needed to feel okay again. Hell, you’d do anything to help him long as it meant saving your own morality and pushing away whatever labels the public has placed on you.

And you could tell yourself everyday that it’s for the greater good and that he’ll repay you someday when he amounts to the superhero he’s building himself to be.

BUT…

When you come to a home that is beyond a pig-sty after a long day’s work then having to clean up said mess and also cook DINNER…well that just about makes you want to plan a murder.

He knows what he’s doing. Clearly, he wants to get a rise at you either to make you pay for your great-grandfather’s crimes or to slowly break you until you become just as wicked. But you’ve yet to buckle under his pressure. Whenever he treats you like scum, you turn the other cheek.

So, of course, here you are cleaning yet another one of Bucky’s preventable messes. You’re on your hands and knees furiously scrubbing away at the linoleum tiles until you can see your own reflection. Meanwhile, he’s just sitting on the coach in nothing but white undershirt and boxers mindlessly flipping through the television.

You’re scrubbing near his feet and just when you think he’s being kind enough to raise them out of the way, he rests them on your ass.

You seethe, teeth grinding but continue with no protest. You desperately try to ignore him but his heated gaze on your ass is so distracting.

“Think you could make me a sandwich when you’re done with that, dollface?” He says, bored.

You feign a saccharinely sweet tone and smile. “Of, course, Bucky! Whatever you wish.”

“Whatever I wish.” He says, voice lowering a couple octaves.

“That’s what I said,” You said through gritted teeth, your innocent act weening. You bat your eyelashes dearly up at him from behind you. “But you already knew that, didn’t you?”

“So if I said I want some pussy, you’d give it up to me willingly,” He rasps. “Whenever I want.”

That’s odd. Bucky has never made things sexual. Not that you haven’t thought of this yourself the first time you offered to help him. Sure, you always thought he was quite handsome and that hulking body of his pouncing you has been a thought more times than you can count. But steadily you’re fury for him began to develop once he’d made you out to be like his little servant rather than a friend.

And yet…why is it that you find yourself soaking wet whenever he treats you this way even though it’s absolutely repulsive?!

“Yes, Bucky, you can have me. Whenever you want.” You reply.

“And you mean it?” He says, lowering on his knees behind you and shoving his boxer down his thick thighs.

Your eyes bug out of your head in horror at the sheer size of him. The girth, the length—this was going to be brutal. He’s leaking from the ruddy tip and looks so angry with the throbbing veins branched out around it like a tree. You swallow the hard lump in your throat, wordlessly nodding before answering. “Yes, I mean it, sir.”

Bucky groans deeply, shoving your head down with his foot. He puts enough pressure against the side of your face to where the other side of it smushes up against the sparkling floor. Before you can even register it, he’s flipping your dress up, pulling your panties to the side, and sinking in with some resistance.

You release a choked sob. “F-uck.”

“You’re so tight, princess,” He moans, biting his lip as he continues to bully his way into you. After some back and forth, your walls latched around him like a vice, reaching all the way to hilt. The small pudge of his belly rests just above your ass as he awaits you to fully adjust.

Your still in the awkward position with you ass up, face down and his foot pressed against your head to keep you from squirming away. Like hell you would. Something must’ve finally snapped within you because even if it hurts, even if you were being used—you’ll happily take it. You fucking surrender and it only to some dick for Bucky to own you.

He starts hammering into you, the sound of this skin clapping together take over the room with your guttural moans soon to follow. Bucky’s quiet at first with his moans which quickly turns to whines when he feels you dripping down his heavy balls.

“So that was all it took? I just had to claim you and now you’ll stop that fake good girl shit. Huh, babygirl? Bet you don’t hate me as much now.”

“Yes, yes, yes,” You mewl. “Love being used by you. Just please don’t fucking stop, Buck!”

He’s hitting so deep inside you now that it’s as if he’s found a rebooting button within you. Your eyes roll back, drool streaming from your lips and your mind’s completely black. All you can do now is make throaty “uh, uh, uh” noises as you get pushed to the brink of bliss.

“When I ask you to do something, I won’t be seeing any of that negative attitude, will I?” He continues to taunt using a firm parental tone. His mechanical arm sneaks its way between your legs, skillful fingers toying with your puffy clit.

You yelp, tears mingling with the sudsy water beneath you. “No, sir. I’ll be good. Forreal this time. I’ll do whatever you want, for as long as you want. Let me cum. Pretty please, sir.”

“Since you asked so nicely,” He smacks your ass with his flesh hand at the same time as a really forceful plunge. “Cum.”

You whine so loud that there’s no doubt a neighbor will be filing a complaint for you. You’re small frame wriggles beneath his large stature as you cum so hard that you understand the meaning of why an orgasm’s called ‘a little death’. You pant against him as he contiues to hammer into you, forcing your juices out of you in a gush.

In final punishing thrusts, he cums hot and sticky inside you much to your chagrin—or so you claim until you noticed the way your hands reached for him from behind, taking fistfuls of the fabric of his boxers that pooled around his knees; you keep him locked in place within you. And you don’t let you go until you’re satisfied that every drop has been milked out of him, clenching around him for added measures.

“Fuck, babygirl,” He growls at this action giving you a few more languid thrusts before pulling out and watching his hot spunk spilling out of you. He pushes his metal finger into you, stuffing you with the escaping essence. “Phew, that worked me up a mean appetite. Think you could make me two sandwiches, hot stuff.”

You remain sweaty and panting on the ground, completely boneless but more than satisfied with being his little toy.

You don’t hate Bucky Barnes after all.

[sunnyrisee]

The Moment I Knew — Lee Know

pairing : idol! lee know x fem! reader

genre : friends to lovers, angst with happy ending, fluff.

summary : in which you fall in love with your best friend, only to be shattered by rumors of him dating someone else. so you try to distance yourself to move on. but letting go proves harder than you ever imagined.

word count : 4,159

author's note : this took three days, whether this is good or not. i hope you like this series. sorry if there are any mistakes.

taglist : @minhosbitterriver

To the world, he's an idol.

But to you, he's much more. He's your best friend, someone who knows you deeply and stands by you. He became an idol while you were still in college.

Actually, you love him.

As his fame grew through the years, you continued your studies, focusing on your master's degree to become a vet. It's sweet how he tells you that if his cats ever get sick, he can come to you for help and doesn't need to find another vet.

You love the idea, so you promise him that.

When Minho invited you to the dorm to watch movies, hang out, or chat, you were always greeted by the sound of yelling, people running around, or occasionally the smell of burnt food. You laughed it off, knowing they were like a family. Despite the chaos, Chan kept apologizing to you profusely. While Chan kept bowing and apologizing to you, you watched Minho—well, yeah, he was busy stuffing tissues into Hyunjin's mouth.

Your eyes widened, and you excused yourself from Chan. He followed your gaze and soon facepalmed.

"Minho! Stop that, idiot. You're hurting him!" You scolded, grabbing his arm to make him stop. He gave you a disgusted look, as if to say, "Why are you on Hyunjin's side, not mine?"

"Well, tell him to shut up! He hurt my eardrums!" Minho retorted, yanking his arm away from your grip. Hyunjin, finally free, gasped for air and glared at Minho.

"God, Y/n. How could you stand him?" Hyunjin asked, throwing an arm over his eyes as if exhausted by the ordeal. You laughed softly, glancing at Minho who was still grumbling.

"It wasn't always easy, but I guess I'd gotten used to his antics. Besides, someone had to keep an eye on him."

Minho shot you a mock glare. "Oh, so now you're against me too?"

"Of course not." You replied with a grin. "But sometimes you did make it hard. Maybe I just had a soft spot for difficult people." Minho rolled his eyes at your statement and went back to setting up the movie.

Minho wasn't much of a talker; he preferred to listen more. There were times he did speak, but not often. Still, you were grateful that he wanted to share his days with you. On the other hand, you loved talking, especially with him, and joking around was always fun. However, he hated it when you teamed up with Kim Seungmin.

He remembered a time when you were playing a game with Seungmin. Minho messaged you, urgently asking where you were because he needed your help to find Dori's toy. Seungmin took your phone and replied with a dog meme flipping the middle finger. He hated how powerful you'd become with Seungmin.

You eventually made friends with all of them, and most of them were a lot of fun to hang out with.

One thing they didn't know was your feelings for him. Yes, some of them might have asked about it, but Minho brushed it off, reassuring them that you both were just best friends. It hurt, and you could feel your heart breaking every time Minho downplayed it, making you question if your feelings were even noticed. You didn't know when the feelings started—maybe it was because you often spent time together, or perhaps it was the way you were enchanted whenever you were with him.

As time went on, you continued with your own life, focusing on your studies. Yet, whenever you lost in thought, Minho always seemed to come to mind.

After a long day at college, you finally got back to your apartment, exhausted and ready to rest. Just as you were about to settle in, you heard a notification from your phone. You checked it and saw a message from Minho saying he would be coming over because Felix and Seungmin had somehow managed to burn the kitchen.

Your face lit up, a smile curving on your lips. Even though you had to admit you were really tired and your back ached, you couldn't help but feel a little excited at the thought of Minho coming over.

"Thank you for letting me come here. It was crazy there—Chan was now scolding them both." Minho said as he arrived. He looked around your apartment, taking in the calm atmosphere compared to the chaos he had just left.

"I owed you one for this. If you needed anything, just let me know."

You laughed softly, despite your exhaustion. "No need to thank me. Just make yourself comfortable."

He sat on your couch, trying to calm his mind, while you sat on the floor, hugging your knees to your chest. As you listened, he started to ramble about how the new comeback was wearing him out.

"I swear, this comeback has completely worn me out. With the upcoming tour, I'm just so exhausted." Minho said, running a hand through his hair. You listened quietly, offering a comforting presence.

"I could only imagine how tough that must be. But you were doing an amazing job. It's okay to take a break and just breathe for a bit..." You replied, stifling a yawn as you started to feel sleepy.

"You've never seen me in the practice room. You need to know how tiring it is! Jisung keeps falling, or Chan forgets to mirror the dance." He continued, shaking his head.

You kept listening to his ramble, it made your heart flutter when he opened up to you. Today was just different—you were more tired than ever. You wanted to hear more and value these moments, but you shifted slightly, and your head eventually rested against the edge of the couch.

Minho continued talking until he heard your little snores, realizing you had fallen asleep. He glanced down and was surprised to see you resting against the edge of the couch, a gentle smile forming on his lips.

Not wanting to disturb you, he carefully moved to sit on the floor beside you, letting you rest comfortably.

"I didn't realize how exhausted you were. Make sure you get some rest. I'll stay here for a while."

You knew you loved him more, and it was becoming clearer each day. Every time you were with him, you could feel butterflies in your stomach and a warm flush across your cheeks. Even if you didn't really hang around the building or accompany him during practice, the time you spent together was enough to make your feelings grow stronger.

You loved him, and you couldn't even describe your own feelings. You could talk about him all day, about the little things he did that made your heart race, the way he smiled, or how he always knew what to say to make you feel better. But no matter how deeply you loved him, a nagging doubt always lingered at the back of your mind.

Did he see you as more than just a friend? Or were you forever destined to be just his best friend, standing on the sidelines of his heart?

It was night time when Minho invited you to tag along with the group at the carnival. You didn't really want to get on the rides, so you chose to just watch them. As time went on, you all walked around, talking and laughing, but you found yourself lagging behind Minho, falling behind the others.

You glanced at his back, wanting to cherish moments like these just with him. Your mind trailed off, and you couldn't help but think that one day, he'd find someone who truly matched him. There were so many beautiful idols out there, and you began to realize.

Maybe you just weren't meant for him.

A deep sadness settled in your chest as you trailed behind, feeling the distance grow between your heart and reality. You watched him from afar, caught between the joy of being near him and the painful acknowledgment that your feelings might never be returned. The carnival lights seemed to mock your longing, a bittersweet reminder of what could have been but likely never would.

You bit your lip, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to fall. You didn't want to ruin this moment—he looked so happy, enjoying himself with the group.

Why couldn't you be strong for once? Why couldn't you just move on from him?

The self-doubt and heartache overwhelmed you, making you wish you could just disappear at this point.

"Y/n? Are you alright?" Minho asked softly, his hand gently resting on your shoulder as he tried to get your attention. As you looked up at him, you saw the concern etched on his face. You didn't want to make him worry.

"I'm fine, Minho. I was thinking how can cats eat leaves." You assured him, adding a joke to deflect his concern. You hoped it would be enough to brush off his worry.

Minho raised an eyebrow, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Cats eating leaves? You're such a weirdo, Y/n." You laughed softly, relieved as his playful comment eased the tension.

Throughout the night, the ache in your heart never quite went away. No matter how hard you tried to push your feelings aside, it felt like everything around you kept reminding you of them, making it hard to enjoy the evening.

Lee Know from Stray Kids Rumored to Be Dating a Member of a Girl Group.

As you read the headlines, and a knot tightened in your stomach. A flood of questions overwhelmed you, each one gnawing at you and making it harder to breathe.

You knew this day might come, but you didn't expect it to hurt so much. It was as if your heart was being shattered into a million pieces, each one cutting deeper than the last.

You stared at the screen, the words blurring as tears welled up in your eyes. You tried to hold them back, but it was useless. Each tear that fell felt like another piece of your heart breaking away. You should've known better. But why couldn't you just leave him be? Why couldn't you just let go?

You let yourself cry the whole day, dying to ask him if the rumors were true or not. Yet, you didn't dare touch your phone to message him. You were afraid, you were scared. The fear of hearing confirmation, of shattering your last glimmer of hope, kept you paralyzed. Every sob seemed to wrack your entire being, leaving you feeling more fragile and broken with each passing moment.

You clutched your pillow, drenched with your tears. You never imagined that loving him could be this painful. Everything felt unbearably heavy, and it seemed like pure torture. It was as if your world was collapsing, each breath more difficult to take under the weight of your unspoken love.

Luckily, you didn't have class today, so you could cry as much as you wanted. If there had been class, you were sure you wouldn't have been able to focus.

What made it worse was that you didn't have any friends other than Minho and the other Stray Kids members. You hated yourself for not branching out more, and now you had to face the painful reality of moving on from your only close friend.

You kept your word, making an effort to avoid him as much as possible. Your days felt lonelier, and your apartment seemed colder, each corner a reminder of the emptiness you felt.

You hated having to be this way with your own friend. After two weeks, you responded only with short replies or didn't answer his messages at all. His calls went straight to voicemail.

When you arrived back at your apartment, you looked around and realized just how much you missed him. The reality of it hit hard—you were nothing like him, and you felt utterly miserable without him.

"Hyung, I haven't seen Y/n in a while. I tried to message her but she said she's been busy lately." Han said as he took a seat next to Minho in the studio. He then began to type something on his laptop.

Minho's eyes widened in surprise. "You know about Y/n? I've been trying to reach her for weeks, but she's been completely unresponsive."

Han glanced up from his laptop, noticing Minho's distress. "I didn't know something was going on. I thought she was just busy with school or something. Is everything okay?"

Minho sighed heavily, unsure of what to say. He had never truly asked about you. Running a hand through his hair, he muttered.

"I don't know... She's not her usual self these days..." Minho admitted, his voice tinged with uncertainty. He was confused about what to do, feeling lost without knowing what was going on. Normally, you always knew exactly what to do or say in moments like this, but now, without you, he felt completely lost and unsure of how to fix things.

"You know? Y/n is my voice when w-words fail me, she's the person who listens patiently to all my thoughts, and she's the person I depend on when I need someone to be there..."

Seeing his hyung, who almost never talks about his feelings, open up like this was like watching someone who'd been silent their whole life suddenly find their voice. Han could sense just how much you meant to him. It was as if you were the missing piece of Minho's life, the one person who made everything make sense.

God, he wished for someone like you to come into his own life.

"Hyung, I'm sorry to ask this, but do you have feelings for her?" Han's question left Minho stunned.

"What kind of question is that? She's my best friend!" Minho snapped, his words coming out sharper than he intended. There was no way he could have feelings for his own friend, right?

Han looked down at his laptop, trying to gather his thoughts. He had no intention of breaking into his hyung's boundaries, but since he knew you too, he was sure one of you was in love. That thought was embedded in his mind, an unspoken truth he couldn't ignore. He didn't say much, but he noticed the subtle glances and fleeting smiles, the silent language of affection that spoke louder than words.

Minho didn't know what was going through his mind. His instincts urged him to see you, as if something inside was telling him he needed to. He sent you a message saying he would pick you up today.

As he waited for you to finish class, the minutes seemed to stretch on endlessly. When you finally received his message, you were taken aback.

You spotted him waiting for you, his face obscured by a mask and glasses, and a hat pulled low over his eyes. His attempt at disguise almost made him unrecognizable.

"Hey, dummy."

"Hey, why did you waste your time picking me up?" You asked, your tone coming off colder than you intended. You knew clearly he was supposed to have practice today.

"I have some free time, so why not? Plus, you've been acting strange lately, I was starting to think you'd vanished into thin air." Minho replied with a hint of a smile behind his mask. His eyes stayed fixed on you as you walked ahead, a look of concern and curiosity on his face that felt more intense than usual.

As you both walked side by side, the silence between you felt heavier than usual. You could feel Minho's gaze occasionally drifting towards you.

"Are you okay?" Minho finally broke the silence, his voice softer than usual. You hesitated, struggling to keep your composure. 

"It's nothing, really."

He stopped walking and gently placed a hand on your shoulder, making you turn to face him. "Y/n, you don't have to shut me out. If something's wrong, I want to help. You're my friend, and I care about you." 

Hearing him worry about you made your heart ache. You took a deep breath, struggling to hold back your emotions.

"It's just… There are things I can’t talk about. Not right now..." Minho's eyes softened with understanding.

You stood in silence, your emotions bubbling just beneath the surface. You wanted to voice everything you'd been holding back for so long, but the words felt trapped, unable to escape.

The awkward silence was broken by a soft, pitiful meow. You and Minho turned simultaneously, searching for the source of the sound. Minho's expression softened as he carefully approached, revealing a small, trembling kitten cradled in his hands.

Your heart melted at the sight. Without a word, you reached out and carefully took the kitten from Minho, your vet student instincts immediately taking over. As you examined the kitten with utmost care, you spoke gently to it, trying to calm its trembling. You reached into your bag and pulled out some supplies, preparing to tend to its needs.

Minho watched you closely, mesmerized by your gentle touch and genuine care. He was at a loss for what was stirring inside him, but as he watched you tenderly care for the kitten, you looked more beautiful than ever. His heart raced uncontrollably, and a warm flush spread across his cheeks.

As you finished tending to the kitten, you glanced up and caught Minho's eyes on you. He immediately averted his gaze, clearly flustered.

"See? You're okay now, little one..." You said, gently setting the kitten down. It looked a bit more refreshed now. You then brought out some food, carefully placing it near the tiny creature.

The warmth in your actions contrasted sharply with the coldness you'd shown him recently. The more he stared at you, the more his heart began to race, each beat louder than the last. He noticed the same habit you both shared, carrying cat food wherever you went. How could he have forgotten about that?

It was just like the day you met him.

You were helping a cat that had fallen into a sewer when Minho found you. He thought you were weird, which is why he called you an idiot. Despite that, he helped you rescue the cat. That shared moment had been the start of your friendship, and now, seeing you like this, he couldn’t help but feel a pang in his heart.

Maybe, Han was right.

"It's like the first time we've met..." He mumbled softly, just loud enough for you to hear.

"Yeah... It does." You replied, a small smile forming on your lips. The memory of that day flooded back, bringing with it a bittersweet feeling.

You bit your lip, feeling the weight of your emotions. With a trembling sigh, you looked up at him, your heart heavy with the realization of the truth you'd been trying to avoid.

"Minho." You started, your voice breaking. "I think... I think we shouldn't be friends anymore."

The words fell from your lips like a heavy, painful blow, and you could see Minho's world crumble in his eyes. As you turned to walk away, each step felt like a dagger to the heart. The light of your presence, once so vibrant, began to fade, leaving behind a suffocating coldness. 

Minho felt the warmth of your presence slipping through his fingers, replaced by an overwhelming chill that engulfed his heart.

"Is he okay?" Chan asked, peering through the door, the rest of the members trailing behind him. They all shook their heads, unsure. Chan sighed and approached Minho's side.

"Man. Listen, I don't know what's up, but you can't keep going like this. We've got stuff to do, and you're not doing anyone any favors by shutting us out. Just talk to us, okay?"

Minho took a deep breath, his voice trembling. "It's her... It's true what Han said, I really love her. Ugh, I didn't understand it at first, but now I see it clearly..."

Chan's expression softened as he listened to Minho's confession. "Then why don't you confess your feelings?" He asked gently. "You have a lifetime chance to win her heart, but that chance could slip away if you let your fears or ego get in the way. You need to be honest with her. It's the only way to find out if there's a future for you two."

Just as Chan's words echoed in his mind, a surge of clarity jolted through Minho. It wasn't too late to confess. He knew, deep down, that you were the only one he truly wanted. The thought of losing you forever was unbearable.

"Also, have you heard the dating rumors about you? That's probably what hurt her. If I'm right, those rumors have been spreading for at least a month—"

"Are you kidding me? A month?!" Minho's voice was a mix of anger and disbelief.

The realization hit him hard. The pain you must have felt—he now felt it deeply in his own heart. It was as if his chest was tightening, making it difficult to breathe. The weight of the rumors and the distance between you both crushed him.

Without thinking, Minho bolted from the room, his heart pounding fiercely in his chest. Never in his life had he felt such fear of loss. The moment you walked away had already broken him, but the idea of losing you forever felt like it would destroy him completely.

When he arrived at your apartment, he noticed the door was slightly ajar. Doubt and worry gripped him.

Why would you leave the door open or unlocked at night?

He hesitated for a moment, his heart pounding as he pushed the door open slowly.

"Y/n?"

When you didn't respond, he stepped inside more fully, the fear gripping him tightening around his chest. His eyes scanned the room frantically before landing on you.

Minho's heart ached at the sight: you were slumped over your desk, surrounded by scattered books and papers. Your exhaustion was palpable; dark circles shadowed your eyes, and your usually vibrant face looked pale and drawn.

Minho gently touched your shoulder, causing you to stir awake. When you fully came to, you were startled to find Minho's face so close to yours.

"Minho? What are you doing—"

Minho cut you off tenderly, his fingers brushing against your cheek with a warmth that felt both comforting and electrifying. You could see his eyes welling up with tears, his voice catching in his throat. The sight of him so broken and vulnerable was almost too much to bear.

"Y/n..." Minho's voice trembled, breaking through the heavy silence.

"I never imagined I'd find someone who could touch my heart like this. But the moment I knew I loved you was when I r-realized how empty my life would be without you. You're everything I've ever wanted and more..."

As Minho's heartfelt confession filled the room, you listened intently, your once-dull eyes beginning to sparkle with emotion. The weight of his words resonated deeply within you, and you could feel your own heartbeat quickening with every beat.

"When you left, the chill that settled in my heart made me understand just how much you were the fire that warmed my soul." Hearing these words, you could barely hold back the tears that threatened to spill. The relief you felt was overwhelming, as if the weight of unspoken feelings was finally lifted from your chest.

"Minho... You've no idea how much I needed to hear this. I've felt so lost, but now, hearing you, it feels like everything is falling into place." Minho gently cupped your face, his touch both tender and reassuring.

"My heart feels like it's been set ablaze." Minho pulled you closer.

As his lips met yours, the world seemed to melt away, leaving just the two of you in a tender, passionate moment. You gently placed your hands on his neck, fingers lightly brushing through his hair.

The warmth of his body pressed against yours, combined with the sweet pressure of his lips, sent a thrill through you, igniting a fire that mirrored the one he had described.

As you pulled away, breathless and flushed, your eyes locked with his. A soft smile blossomed on both your lips, and your noses brushed together in a delicate, shared moment.

"Then let me be the breeze that fans your flames, ensuring our fire burns bright." 

[redzie02]

thinking about Wooyoung reassuring you cause you're nervous about taking care of his little brother

quick imagine/ if anyone would like to make this into a full fic feel free to tag me :) masterlist

You are washing dishes from earlier that day and Wooyoung comes home. He wraps his arms around your waist from behind, kissing your neck. You put down the sponge and turn around, placing your forearms on his shoulders, your gloved hands falling behind him.

You peck his nose and he scrunches it, grinning. You ask about each other's day. He helps you dry off the dishes.

The sun started going down, so you start preparing dinner together. Of course, he takes charge and you don't mind, sitting back and watching him do his thing. His little brother, Kyungmin, would be staying with you guys for the weekend. You mentioned you were nervous about it.

"What? Why are you nervous?"

"What if he doesn't like me?"

He chuckled. "He comes over all the time, why wouldn't he?"

"Well, actually, it's been months since I've seen him. You were on tour and I was busy. I feel like I've neglected one of the most important people in your life." You pouted.

He puts the knife down on the cutting board and walks over to you, wiping his hands on the apron he's wearing. There's a little twinkle in his eye as he bends down to your seated figure.

"You know, I do talk to him every day. Do you wanna know what he tells me at least once a day?"

"What?"

The small smile he was wearing grows bigger as he replies, "That he misses you. He's always asking about you and saying he can't wait to see you."

"What? You've never told me this!"

"I can't have him stealing you away from me," he shrugs, quickly pecking your forehead and turning around to continue cutting the potatoes. "Besides, if he actually did hate you, just feed him- that kid will eat anything."

---

The next day, you and Wooyoung pick up Kyungmin. The three of you go out for breakfast, take a walk at the park, and watch movies at home.

When Kyungmin isn't attached to you, he's pestering Wooyoung- or I guess, Wooyoung would be the one doing the pestering. Kyungmin's round eyes would plead for your help whenever Wooyoung would overwhelm him and you'd draw him away from the madness.

You'd sneakily step away to snap a few pictures of them laughing, or cooking together, or Wooyoung giving Kyungmin a piggyback ride.

It made you realize a few things.

"What if our future looked like this?" You laid in bed, facing each other. Wooyoung smoothed your hair, gently pushing away any strands that may have fallen on your face.

"Hmm?"

"You know...kids...a family. I never realized it was something I might’ve wanted until this weekend. You're doing things to me, Woo."

"Yeah? I can do more things to you." He bit his lip and you rolled your eyes. "I've been thinking about it too. It'd be nice to have a family, wouldn’t it? A few little ones running around, making a mess."

"A few? How many are you thinking?"

"However many versions of me you can handle."

"Oh god."

[rileyslibrary]

Penny for your thoughts

Synopsis: You’ve recently been transferred to a UK base and struggle with British currency. Your lieutenant is mortified—and rightfully so.

Relationship: Simon “Ghost” Riley x GN!Reader

Word Count: 1,286 (approx. 5-6 mins reading time)

Notes:

I thought it was funny when I wrote it, okay? It’s a crackfic. There’s some teasing and playful banter in there, but I can’t label it as fluff.

Warnings: Profanity. Lots of it.

More A/N at the end.

———————————————————————

You’ve been trying to escape the lieutenant’s grip for the past two hours.

The upcoming mission requires close combat skills, he said. You’ll need to infiltrate a facility with minimum weapons and immobilise—but not kill—the targets for interrogation.

You admitted to him that you hadn’t practised in a long time and your combat skills were a little rusty. But Ghost assured you this wouldn’t be a problem and offered a refresher course in ground fighting and submission techniques.

You never imagined this would be an issue when you agreed to it. On the contrary, your lieutenant was an expert in combat, and training with him could be considered a masterclass.

Looking at it now, with your cheek pressed against the floor and your body twisted like a nautical knot, you wish you could take it back.

The mats have become your second skin. Ghost relentlessly pins you to the ground and immobilises your limbs while explaining the mechanics behind each hold. Sometimes you wonder why he gets into so much detail since you can’t hear shit and are practically knocked out.

Yet, he doesn’t give up on you. He advises you to feel the weight shift, urging you to exploit the slightest openings, encouraging you to break free. Whenever he sees you’re struggling or senses you’re uncertain, he taps your hand or leg, giving you clues to help you.

He immobilises you once more, but he pats your back this time.

“Alright,” he says, standing up, “that’s enough for today.”

He walks to the bench, picks up his towel, and pats his neck. You roll on your back and spread your arms.

“I feel like a pretzel.” You whisper.

“Yup,” he confirms, “that’s Jiu-Jitsu for ya.”

Drenched in sweat, you push yourself off the ground and slowly walk to your bag. You extract your towel and begin rummaging through your wallet to find spare coins for a water bottle. You manage to find one pound, but unfortunately, you fall short.

“Lt.?” You call out.

He turns halfway to give you his attention while tugging the velcro straps from his gloves.

“Do you have fifty pennises?”

He stops midway and lets go of the velcro strap. It can wait. His eyes have formed two thin lines, and his eyebrows almost touch each other.

“Do I have fifty what, soldier?”

“I need fifty pennises.” You reply, this time louder, “Do you have fifty pennises?”

His eyes have changed. They’re not squinting anymore. They are bulging. He frantically looks left and right, bringing his index finger to his mouth.

“Shhhh!” He whispers and runs towards you, waving his other hand in front of your face. “Shut your mouth!”

He closes the distance between you and looks behind him.

“What is wrong with you?” He whispers.

You raise your eyebrows and blink rapidly.

“No,” you reply, “what is wrong with you?”

He lets out a sigh and looks at his surroundings once again. He scratches the side of his chin and clasps his hands in prayer.

“Tell me exactly what you want,” he requests more calmly this time, almost begging you, “Make a sentence out of it.”

“I’m thirsty.” You explain.

“Obviously.”

He’s starting to get on your nerves. You open your palm and raise it to his eye level.

“Look,” you order and point at the coin, “I have one pound.”

“I can see that.” He replies and puts his hand on yours, pushing it down so he can look at you.

“The vending machine needs one pound and a half.”

“Say it.” He commands and swallows hard, “The vending machine needs one pound and fifty...”

You clench your jaw and look at him dead in the eyes.

“Pennises.”

He lets out a snort and clasps his hand at the bridge of his nose. He turns his back to you and takes a few steps away. His shoulders move up and down.

“Ah, soldier,” he replies, still looking the other way. “that’s a lot of pennises.”

You run a hand through your hair and sigh.

“I know my pronunciation is probably wrong,” you state and shut your eyes, “but I need them.”

“Don’t say that,” he says between gasps, “you don’t need that many.”

With your eyes still closed, you start babbling about how wrong he is and how you wish you had a million of them so you could escape this hellhole and retire on an island. He squats to the ground and covers his masked face with his hands.

He sounds like he’s whimpering. You might have assumed he was sobbing if you hadn’t known the cause of his stance. But you knew why he was half crying, half laughing. It sounded hideous. It was hideous. You just can’t remember the word.

What’s it called, what’s it called...

You open your eyes. Ghost is walking towards you, wiping away tears from his eyes. He retrieves a fist of coins from his pocket and, muttering something under his breath, chooses two. He pinches a silver hexagonal-shaped coin with his fingers and shows it to you.

“This,” he says, “is fifty pence, or 50p.”

“Pence or p.” You repeat.

“That’s right.” He confirms and pinches a smaller coin with his other hand. “Now, this little one is a penny. Fifty of these are called fifty pennies.”

“Pennies,” you echo and slap your thighs, “See? Was it that hard to explain?”

“Oh yes,” he replies and nods slowly, “yes, it was that fucking hard.”

You lift your palm. “Can I have the big one?” You ask.

“Say it first.” He commands you.

You roll your eyes. “Can I have the 50p, Lt.?”

“Of course, you may have the 50p.” He says and places the coin in your hand, “What you absolutely may not have is fifty….” He stops and lets a repressed chuckle out.

You press your lips together and bite your cheek to not respond to his teasing. But you can’t.

“…pennises, I presume?” You sneer.

“Yeah, no.” He says and vigorously shakes his head, “You don’t want that.”

You wince and rub the back of your neck. Ghost tries to comfort you, telling you it’s ok and you shouldn’t feel bad, but he doesn’t believe it himself. He’s smiling beneath that mask; you can tell by how the grimace alters his voice. You thank him for the coin and walk to the vending machine.

“Soldier,” he calls out, “how many times have you said that word since you came to the UK?”

You tilt your head and try to recall.

“I can’t remember.” You conclude.

“You can’t remember if you ever said it, or there were so many occasions that you can’t count them?” He asks with a trembling voice.

“No, Lt.,” you reply, defeated, “I don’t remember asking another person for that.”

He looks relieved. He lets out a long exhale and rubs his masked face with his palms.

“I never thought I’d ever say this,” he says, “but I’m glad I was the first one.”

———————————————————————

A/N: I wrote this in March, along with this story (yes, they’re very similar). Although I liked the idea and thought it was funny, I initially discarded it because it felt stupid, and chose to post the other one (not like the other one is pure genius). It remains as such, but as I said, it’s a crackfic. I’m not researching how to improve human welfare.

[honeyedclementine]

beg for it

sevika x f!reader, smut, established relationship, strapping, top!sevika usage of 'good girl' (one shot, 1.8k words) ageless blogs, minors, and men dni

reply to be added to my tag list ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

it was rare these days that sevika came home in a playful mood. work was weighing down on her, silco's pressures getting worse and worse, but you understood, you always understood. you didn't pretend to know the extent of the work she did for silco and she never told you—you just sighed and tended to her wounds whenever she came home with them. that was how you two had met, in fact. you were one of the more notable healers in zaun, always caring for others with a gentle touch. she had come to you all those years ago when she first lost her arm and never stopped. somewhere along the way, things changed between you two and well, now you have a shared apartment in the lanes and make good use of your free time.

speaking of making good use, sevika is in a good mood when she comes home for once. it's a pleasant surprise when you hear the door while you wash up from dinner, arms wrapping around your waist—one warm, one cool. lips press into your neck and you sigh contentedly.

"good day at work, baby?" you hum, feeling the way her kiss intensifies at the pet name. she'll never admit it to your face that she likes it, but you know her and her body well enough to know what drives her crazy. her kisses grow playful as she nips at the crook of your neck, hands strong at your waist and thoroughly distract you. the plate you were cleaning slips softly into the warm soapy water of the sink as you grip the edge of the counter, eyes slipping closed.

"couldn't wait to get home," sevika mutters against your neck, biting and sucking a mark into it that you know will last for a few days. you love letting her mark you up—of course, always places you can cover up so you can maintain some professionalism when you need to, but you like knowing they're there. pressing fingers to bruises on your collarbones through your shirts, just to feel the hiss of old pain, remembering the nights you two shared. "to you."

you mewl softly against her touch, her flesh hand coming dangerously close to the waistband of your jeans. you can already feel desire pooling softly in the pits of your stomach, surely manifesting itself into a mess in your underwear. you groan as her metal hand climbs up the hem of your shirt, sharp fingers just barely grazing against an erect nipple. you moan softly, pushing your ass back against her hips and feeling her groan at the friction.

"gods, i need you," you moan, head hanging, hair falling into your face as you struggle to remain standing. she always has a way of making you weak in the knees while doing barely anything. "fuck me, please, it's been too long."

she picks up on exactly what you're asking for without you having to say much more, a chuckle falling from her lips as she pulls away from you. you mourn her warmth immediately, but her rough velvet voice washes over you as she says, "wait here, then."

a chill runs down your spine as you hear her retreat to the bedroom. she returns only moments later, this time without her jeans, a strap comfortable on her hips above her underwear. you bite your lip, tugging her close as soon as you can and smashing your lips together with the edge of the counter pressing into your back. she pulls away from you if only to tug your shirt over your head.

her hands roam your chest, flesh fingers teasing a hard nipple as she kisses along the line of your jaw, tongue exploring the hollow of your throat. her hands lower, undoing the button of your jeans and tugging them down until they're stuck around your thighs, taking your underwear with it.

she's impatient, it seems, not even bothering to remove the clothing completely before turning you around and pressing your stomach into the edge of the counter. you gasp at the strong hand she has on the back of your neck, relishing in the way she can just push you around as you see fit. you've always loved how strong she is, especially in times like this.

you gasp as the strap presses against your back, not quite where you want it. her fingers find your clit, pressing down slightly before dipping lower and gathering more of your slick desire onto her fingertips. "so ready for me already."

"fuck," you gasp as two of her thick fingers breach your entrance with little warning, stretching and preparing you for her cock. "i need you."

she leans in close, her teeth nipping softly at your earlobe, the tip of the strap just barely teasing at your entrance, not giving you nearly enough. you whimper at the contact, relishing in the warmth of her stomach pressed against your back. "beg for it."

you don't need to be told twice. "please, sevika, i need your cock, baby, please. i've been so good, give it to me, please."

"good girl," she coos, caressing your face with one hand as her lips dive against your neck once more, sucking more marks into the soft flesh.

you're practically shivering with anticipation as her metal hand tangles in your hair, getting a solid grip on it before she presses you down until your stomach is almost entirely flush with the counter. she angles the strap against your entrance, just barely pushing in as if she knows this is driving you absolutely insane. you whimper at the slightest touch, chest heaving as you crave to be filled by her.

after the initial tease, she slams into you with little warning, drawing a pleasurable scream from your lips. her grip on your hair and back keeps you where she wants you and you don't fight it, content to let her fuck you however she sees fit. despite her initial roughness, she eases you into it, rocking into you slowly and letting you get used to the fullness. you groan, making an attempt to shove your hips back against her, but the strong hand on the small of your back keeps you from doing so, causing a soft mewl to fall from your lips.

"gods, you're beautiful like this," she breathes out, so quiet you almost wonder if she even meant to say it out loud. as if trying to hide the statement, she picks up her pace, pulling out of you almost entirely before slamming back in and keeping that same rhythm over and over again.

your legs shake and you almost certainly would have fallen if not for sevika and the counter holding you up. her strong hands ground you, even as you press your face against the coolness of the counter, no thoughts in your mind except for sevika, sevika, sevika. you already know if she keeps this pace, along with the gentle hand tugging at your hair the way she knows you love, you're not going to last long at all.

"sev, baby," you moan, the words barely sounding real as they fall from your lips mingled with soft whimpers and groans. you can already feel your climax at the edges of your nerves as she fucks into you relentlessly. you can't get over how she groans like she can feel it, too, the kitchen quiet save for a mess of moans and the wet sounds of her cock pushing into you again and again. you can feel yourself leaking down the insides of your thighs, surely coating the strap in an absolute mess of desire.

"you're doing so good, so good for me," sevika coaxes more moans out of you with her soft words, your hands white-knuckling the counter as you feel your orgasm growing closer and closer. your legs feel absolutely weak as she slams into you.

your orgasm washes over you quickly, like a bucket of warm water being dumped over you as your nerves light up with the release of tension, clenching around her cock before spilling over it, making a mess of yourself. sevika continues fucking into you, barely even slowing her pace as her flesh hand moves from your back. she reaches around, trapping her wrist between your stomach and the counter as her fingers tease at your clit, applying pressure to the sensitive bundle of nerves, clearly trying to draw another orgasm out of you.

you don't fight it, leaning into her touch as more incoherent moans spill from your lips, focusing only on the hand on your clit and the cock thrusting into you over and over again with little remorse. you love when she's like this—rough and unforgiving, not letting you go until she's done with you.

already sensitive from your first, it's not long before you're coming again, this time against her fingers and pushing back against her cock. her hand moves back to your hips, guiding you through is as her pace lets up only slightly. as you come down, her thrusts slow down almost entirely before she stills, her cock fully buried within you and her back pressed against yours against the counter. you ground yourself in the weight of her against you, your eyes watering slightly just from the pleasure of the stretch.

she kisses down the nape of your neck and your spine, sending shivers across your skin. after a moment, she pulls out of you slowly. you sigh, going to push yourself away from the counter, but she stops you with a hand to the small of your back. so, you stay there, hands braced against the cool counter as sevika sinks to her knees. you shudder as her tongue finds your inner thigh, cleaning up the mess she made of you.

her lips and tongue are careful around your cunt, knowing how sensitive you are right now. you sigh contentedly as she cleans you up before rising to her feet.

"baby—" you start to say, but you're cut off by her hooking her arms around your back and the backs of your knees, effectively sweeping you off your feet. you're grateful for the help, considering you're not entirely sure you'd be able to walk after that. "i can walk, you know."

sevika just tsks as she carries you to the bathroom, starting up the faucet and waiting for the water to get warm. "not if i've done my job right."

she sits you on the edge of the ceramic tub and you watch as she undoes the harness around her hips, tugging her shirt and underwear off—a silent confirmation that she'll be joining you in the bath. you reach for her hips, tugging her close as she bends down and presses a kiss to the crown of your head.

as soon as the bath is full, she climbs in, the tub barely big enough for her tall form, tugging you in after her and settling you against her back. you sigh, letting your eyes slip closed as she presses a kiss to your temple.

you love when sevika has a good day at work.

tag list: @puppyels @njm63522 @fict1onallyobsessed

[lou-struck]

Missed Messages

Lucifer x reader

~ You have always tried to be self sufficient and fight your own battles. But when you reach your breaking point, you find yourself alone.

Warnings: Angst with a happy ending, physical and emotional feelings of stress, reader getting treated poorly for being a human, group projects.

~2.9k

You feel like there is a little stress demon bouncing around your chest. In the human world, group projects were annoying, and unfortunately, they still exist in hell.

For one of your classes, you were paired up with Olivier, a Greater demon from one of the Devildom's wealthy families, and his companions. Right from the get-go, he made it very clear that he had no intention of working on a project with a filthy human and that if you were to say anything about his refusal, it would make Diavolo's exchange program look bad if it appeared that the demons at RAD were not being accepting of humans. 

At first, you thought his threat was silly. That he was simply a slacker who wanted to get out of work. But after a while, you realized that Olivier has a strong distaste for humans and could have the influence to cause problems for the exchange program if you were to speak out against his behaviors. 

So, you put on your best face and ignored his prejudiced behavior. The subtle comments he would make under his breath when you asked questions in class, the way he would cleanse his hand with fire magic after coming into contact with something you had touched, and the way conversations would die out whenever you entered a room without one of the brothers, the Angels, or Diavolo himself by your side. 

You have been tirelessly working on this massive project all by yourself; it has stolen all of your free time, and feelings of sardonic frustration are just welling up inside of you. Now, just like the too-heavy book bag that clings to your shoulder, You are nearing your breaking point. 

The House of Lamination is a safe haven for you after your tiring days at RAD, but right as you enter through its massive double doors, you come face to face with Lucifer. The Avatar of Pride greets you with a loving expression, but he looks just as exhausted as you feel. 

"Mc? Is something troubling you?" he asks, taking in your downcast features with a frown. You want to tell him of your little problem, but he is ridiculously busy and probably has more important things to do than dealing with your inability to play nice with others.

After all, a classmate not liking you is no excuse for you to receive a poor grade on your project…

"Not at all," you reply, flashing him a sweet, convincing smile. "I'm just getting a bit hangry, I can't wait for dinner tonight."

"I see," he says doubtfully.

"How are you doing?" you ask, changing the subject. 'You look a bit stressed."

"Is it that obvious?" he chuckles, raking his hand through his raven-colored hair. "Apparently, those rubber duck toys from the human world have become quite popular in the Devildom, and Lord Diavolo thought it would be fun to give them out at RAD. So now I am going through the student council finances to determine how many ducks and varieties we need."

"Sounds complicated, but why you?"

"No clue," he sighs, "But he seems to think that I have a hidden fondness for these toys."

"Well, I'm sure this Rubber Duck event will go off without a hitch," you say earnestly. "You are so organized and capable you can make anything successful."

"Do you really mean that?" he asks, a smile gracing his fine features. You nod as he gives you a soft peck on the forehead as thanks for your kind words. "I have to work through this paperwork now, but I feel more inclined to do it after your encouragement, Mc."

"Wait," you call after him. "You better make it down for dinner tonight then; if you don't, I will personally invite Solomon to come and prepare the next meal."

His eyes widen as a shudder courses through his strong back. "There's no need for that. I promise to be down for dinner."

~

Hours later, everyone is gathered around the dinner, eating some kind of Devildom variation of lasagna that Satan made.

Beel has a whole sheet pan to himself and is chowing down as he and Belphie seem to be having a telepathic conversation that no one at the table is able to decipher. Lucifer is at the head of the table, keeping true to his promise of joining you, but he is eating quickly, clearly in a rush.

Asmodeus sits to your right, talking animatedly about something that happened today when he was at the mall, you're sure it's an entertaining story based on the reactions of the others, but you are too lost in thought, poking at your dinner plate with a silver fork. 

Although you have been working on your project for days, there is no way you are going to finish the damn thing on time. This workload was meant for a large group, not just one human.

"Mc? What are ya thinkin' about?" Mammon asks, stirring you from your thoughts. "Ya haven't touched yer dinner."

"Satan looks up at you from across the table. "Do you not care for this dish?" he asks. "I could make you something else if you would prefer it?" his dejection breaks your heart.

You shake your head quickly. "No, not at all," you say. "I love it; the sauce is really creamy, I just got distracted."

"Oh, I see." he nods as you take a bite of his dish. "I'm relieved."

"Gahhhh," Levi cries from his seat as he sets his game console down on the table. His screen flashing red tells you that he has just failed the level he was on. "I can't believe it, I was so close."

"Leviathan, what did I say about playing video games at the dinner table?" Lucifer asks the purple-haired demon sternly. 

"N-not to." he sulks, slipping the little handheld off the table and into his deep jacket pocket.

"Thank you," the eldest responds. He clears his throat to get the attention of everyone. "Now, if I could just have a second of your time."

"One," Belphie deadpans, looking at his older brother. They hold eye contact, and it is clear the youngest is struggling to keep a straight face at his joke.

"Anyways," the taller demon continues, "I have a very important task to finish tonight, and I will need absolutely-"

"That's two seconds now." Satan interrupts with a snicker. 

Lucifer, with the wisdom and patience of the oldest sibling, chooses to ignore the teasing and continue with what he is saying. "As I was saying, I require peace and quiet to complete these documents, so I will now be returning to my study and enchanting the door with a noise-canceling spell. I do not wish to be disturbed, so please only contact me if it is an emergency."

"Wait? So we jus can do whatever we wanna do tonight?" Mammon asks, his eyes sparkle with mischievous greed as he imagines the possibilities before him.

"Within reason, Mammon," Lucifer's crimson glare shoots to all his brothers. "But if I find out that any of you decided to waste your free time running about the Devildom causing problems, rest assured, I will punish you using everything at my disposal." The room falls silent as the Avatar of Pride rises from his seat and turns to leave. His massive cape swishes dramatically as he walks out the dining room doors. 

Unsurprisingly, Asmo is the first to spring from his seat. His arms wrap around you as you inhale his sweet peach-scented cologne. "Mc, come to my room. I have the cutest top you can wear tonight when you go to the club with me." he purrs into the shell of your ear.

"No way," Mammon objects. "The human is gonna come to the Casino with the Great Mammon tonight." 

Before the two demons try to drag you across the Devildom to party, you object. "Actually, I have a project to work on," you say, standing. "But you guys have fun."

"Wait, Mc," Beel asks softly, his big eyes full of hope. "Belphie and I were gonna go get some shaved ice for dessert. Would you like to join us?"

Your heart flutters tenderly at the Avatar of Gluttony's request, but the stress you are feeling is hitting you ten-fold. "I wish I could, Beel. But I really have to get my assignment done."

"May I join you two?" Satan asks. "I find myself in the mood for dessert."

"Me too," Levi quips.

"Sounds like a plan," Belphie says, looking at you with a pout. "Are you sure you don't want to come with us?"

"I'm positive," you reply, giving them your most convincing smile. "Now, you guys should go before the shop closes for the night." Beel's eyes go wide with worry, and he hastily leaves the room. As the others follow him out. 

Now alone, your body begins to tremble under the stress of the deadline looming over your head. The walk back to your desk is a long one, and tears begin to wheel in your eyes as you stare down at your assignment rubric and wonder how, in the three realms, you are going to be able to finish this project on time. 

~

It's been hours of working. Stressing, erasing, and overthinking and you feel like you are nearing your wits end. 

Your screen lights up with a message from Asmodeus. When you open it is a video attachment. Clicking on it you see that the 6 brothers are sharing a lush VIP booth at the Fall. "I wish you were hereeeee," Asmo yells into the speaker just above the thrumming base that belphie manages to sleep through peacefully. Their cheeks are ruddy from demonus, and they have the happiest smiles on their faces. 

It brings a smile to your face as you rewatch the video. Just behind Mammon, you see a figure that has you seeing red. 

He is double-fisting some kind of green demonus and wearing a ridiculous hat, but you see your classmates, the demon Olivier and the rest of your 'group' out partying without a care in the world.

While you are at home, working tirelessly on their project. 

Something inside of you just shatters, and you turn away from your desk and throw yourself onto your bed. The soft pillows muffle your cries of frustration. Your DDD feels like a brick in your hand as you raise it to your eye level. 

Your tired face stares back at you on the black screen, and you feel so alone.

You need to talk to someone…

But it's the middle of the night, Simeon and Solomon have gone to bed hours ago and Diavolo and Barbatos are off at a diplomatic conference. You know in your heart that Lucifer is still awake, hunched over his desk as he works through his mountain of paperwork.

Although he said he did not want to be disturbed, your feelings are too severe. 

This feels like an emergency. 

You call him, wanting to at least hear the soothing sound of his voice. The Dial Tone rings once, twice, thrice… but he doesn't pick up.

You sit there, listening to the dull sound of his answering machine. "I guess even in Hell, I have to leave voicemails," you murmur, waiting for the beep. 

"Hey… It's me," you say into the speaker. It's a struggle to keep your voice steady. "I know it's late, and you have lots to do, but if you get this, could you ple-please come here. I just really need someone to talk to right now."

Just voicing your struggle is enough to send tears trickling down your face, and you quickly hang up the phone before you let out one of those raspy, croaking sounds loose from your throat.

Exhaustion courses through your body as you give up on completing the group project for the night. Perhaps when you wake tomorrow, you will have the energy to pretend your problems don't exist.

~

Lucifer wakes up with his head against the polished mahogany of his desk. A bit of drool wetting the surface as he runs his hands through his hair. "What time is it?" he mutters groggily, reaching out blindly for his DDD. 

He pats the empty surface and sits up straighter. Finding that his device is not in its usual place on his desk. His brow furrows as he begins to look through the mountain of papers, trying not to ruffle the organized stacks that he completed earlier before dozing off.

Minutes later of flipping and straightening, he finds it under the center stack and sees that it is flooded with pictures from his brothers, who look like they had a great, but expensive, night out together. 

It brings a warm smile to his lips when he sees their cheesing faces. But then he notices another notification he hadn't seen before. "Mc sent me a voicemail?" He clicks play.

"Hey… It's me. I know it's late and you have lots to do, but if you get this could you ple- please come here. I just really need someone to talk to right now." your voice sounds so weak and shaky it fills him with dread. 

How could he have missed this?

He stands abruptly, papers flying everywhere from the movement, but he really couldn't care less.

You need him. 

You needed him last night and he wasn't there for you.

He has to find you, hold you, and do whatever he can to make you feel better. 

~

Apparently, falling asleep after hitting an emotional low does not constitute the most restful sleep. Your neck feels stiff as you pull your head up from your pillows. The fabric is still slightly damp from your tears the night before. There's this icky feeling in your chest, but it doesn't seem to go away. It only intensifies when you look over at your desk, your unfinished project littering the once pristine space.

Your door flies open suddenly as a gust of air reaches your skin. Lucifer stands in the doorway tensely. He looks ragged, tired, and his deep crimson eyes are muddled with heartbreaking concern. You immediately remember the voicemail that you sent him the night before

You stressed him out; you have to fix this. 

"Good morning, Lucifer," you smile. But it doesn't reach your eyes. He can see through your little act. "I didn't mean to worry you with that voicemail; it was really nothing."

"What's wrong?" he says, coming forward, closing that painful distance with determination. His hand cupping your cheek, forcing you to meet his eyes.

It's funny how one simple touch has your self-assured act crumbling to the ground like a poorly constructed house of cards. 

You find yourself spilling every detail to him, your exhaustion, the group project, the ostracization from your groupmates, and how you saw that they were out at the club last night."

All the while, Lucifer nods along with your story, his thumb gently running along your cheek in a soothing motion. His actions are caring and tender toward you, but there is a fire blazing in his eyes reserved for someone else. You may not know it yet, but Olivier’s days of comfort are numbered. 

"Why didn't you tell me of this before," he asks softly once you finish your explanation. "Why did you take this burden upon yourself?"

"I was worried, "you admit. "I heard that Olivier comes from an influential family. If I said anything, he could cause problems for the exchange program that you and Diavolo have worked so hard for."

"Mc, I promise you, that little rat was greatly exaggerating his self-importance." Lucifer's hand rubs gentle circles into your back. "If anything, you have far more influence in Devildom politics than he does," he adds with an amused chuckle. "

"He's still a jerk, though." you sniffle, wiping your eyes. "Thank you for coming here to cheer me up."

"I'm sorry I wasn't here sooner," he murmurs. "You needed me, and I let you down; please let me make it up to you today."

"You have nothing to make up for," you start, glancing back at your table. "Besides, I have to finish that project before tomorrow."

"Absolutely not," he says abruptly. "You will not lay a finger on that project since clearly you have done more than your share. I will make sure Lord Diavolo hears of this situation and you receive full marks on the work you have already done. I need you to know that you can rely on me. No matter how busy I am, I should never be too busy to come to your aid."

"I love you," you sigh, feeling the burdens lifting off your chest and disappearing into nothingness. "But I should've told you sooner. What do you think will happen to the rest of my group?"

He smiles and kisses the top of your head; as you lean into his touch, you don't see the dark look on his features. "Don't worry about them, Mc, I'll make sure they never cause you pain ever again. Now, let's get changed; I'll take you to that new cafe that opened up to Majolish and enjoy the rest of the day.

Tagging: @enchantedforest-network

[russellsppttemplates]

Not anymore (Lando Norris)

Lando's determined to make you see where you belong

Note: english is not my first language. I hope this is still enjoyable to read as I really challenged myself with these pieces! I'm not sure how good this is (or how much you will want to kill me)! This is part 2 of We don't fit together ! Edit: I used a line from dumplingsjinson (they're the best 🫶✨️)

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Tw: mentions reader's insecurities about herself and about her relationship with Lando, curse words, bloodwork

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog @hiireadstuff @c-losur3

Part 1

The past couple of days were strange. Lando still sent you his usual good morning and good night texts he would send whenever you didn't spend the night together, and you replied. Still, because of your schedule and his schedule, the text for the dreaded conversation came through only this morning

From Lan

Needed to get my bloods done and then Jon also needed a physical assessment so this morning was a rush, but I'm free for the rest of the day if you want to talk, lovie

To Lan

I'll be home for the whole day, you can come here whenever it's best for you!

Tidying the place up a bit, the thoughts on your head kept the same train of ideas. You didn't fit his lifestyle, and the constant doubts you felt were certainly not the way you wanted to go about your life.

There was a knock on the door when you were fluffing the pillows and you walked up to open it, see Lando with somewhat dark circles under his eyes and a bunch of your favourite flowers, "Come in", you said softly as you both headed to the living room, sitting down since you didn't know what else to do.

"Thank you for texting, there was this part of me that didn't believe you would", you admitted. This was the time to be honest, still remaining polite and aware of the words leaving your mouth.

"Of course I did, Y/N, I want us to talk this out, I want us out of this rough patch", Lando pleaded softly, "I'm so sorry for not noticing you were feeling like this", he offered, cutting through the silence when you seemed to not know what to say to kick-start the conversation.

"It's not your fault, Lando", you spoke the truth, "you have been on my mind every conscious second, every thought is about this and I- I really don't know how we will do this, how we will do that", you pointed to him in allusion to the goal he had, "I'm sorry".

Lando gulped, rubbing his hands on his thighs before speakingup, "I did too, and I want you to know I just want you to be happy, fuck, there's nothing I want more in life than to see you happy, and right now it pains me that I am the one that's making you hurt", he let his heart out.

"It's not only your fault", you whispered again, this time looking at him. Your insecurities were just that - your own - and you were responsible from how certain triggers made you feel and react, "I have to be the one to know how to deal with these".

"And I want to help you, lovie, you don't have to do this all alone all the time", Lando offered, "I want us to work and this is a conjoined effort - you shouldn't be doing that alone".

Silence filled the room as the gears turned in your head before you looked up again, seeing the broken look on Lando's face, "Do you think we should take a break? Spend some time away from eachother?", you voiced.

Lando didn't expect the option you suggested. Spending time further apart didn't seem like the right thing to do when you were obviously feeling like you didn't fit in and belong in his life, "are you sure that's the way to go? We'll do what you feel the most comfortable and happy with, but I don't want you to feel like I want you away or that you have to keep away from me - I want you with me for as much time as you can give me".

"It's silly, I know - I've never done this before, I don't know what to do", you shrugged your shoulders. Usually, by the time any insecurities shone through, your past partners had already left.

Lando sighed, "If that is what you think is going to help I'm all in, Y/N. I'll do anything to prove to you that I'm serious about this, but I'm giving up on us, I'm going to fight for you", Lando stated as tears started forming in his eyes, keeping them at bay because this wasn't the end. It couldn't be.

"I'm going to show you just how much you belong with me and how well we fit together, okay?", he checked with you, seeing a small nod, the uncertainty behind it only fueling him to put all his efforts into it.

.

"I wanted to do something we haven't done in a while", Lando said over the phone as he packed the tupperwares into the basket.

"Yes? And what would that be?", you asked. Lando kept a respectful distance but he made sure that everyday that you didn't spend together, you knew he was thinking about you and doing all these little things to remind you of how much he loved you and how you were meant to be together.

"I'm not going to tell you because it's a surprise, but I need to warn you to bring comfortable shoes, and as much as I love your little dresses, anything without a skirt would be better", you heard him smile.

"Okay, anywhere I should go to?", you wondered, "I'll pick you up in about thirty minutes if that's okay?", he quesioned, getting a positive answer from you, "see you soon, beautiful girl, I love you!".

Lando finished packing the picnic basket, getting the napkins and the drinks from the fridge so he could go to his bedroom and get ready.

He planned a fun afternoon, starting with a cycle around the city before finishing with a picnic in the park as he knew it was one of your favourite things. He had come up with many of your favourite plans to do together lately and he was feeling good about it. There was nothing he wanted more than to show you that you fit together and that both of your lives could compliment eachother if you both made adjustments. He was going out less than he used to and favouring to spend that time with you, he made sure you knew he was there and that he wasn't planning on leaving.

Finding a t-shirt and some jeans, he got two buckets hats from the new Quadrant Spring collection they would be launching soon and got ready to leave the apartment.

The drive to your wasn't long, but he never knew with the after lunch traffic, finding a good spot for his car and seeing you already at the entrance of the building, checking the street before crossing it, "hey, Lan", you smiled as you got inside the vehicle, kissing his cheek softly as he drove out of the spot once you had your seatbelt on, "hey, baby, how has your day been?".

"It's good, better now that I'm getting out of the house with some very nice company", you smiled.

The park wasn't too far, and when Lando parked near the rental city bikes with a smirk on his face, you knew what he wanted to do for the afternoon, "we're cycling?", you beamed.

"Yes! I also have some snacks here for a picnic later", Lando got the basket from the cartrunk, carrying it to the bike and making sure it was safely attached to it, scanning the code for his bike and then yours.

"Wait", he said as you were making sure the seat was at the right height, cycling around the area. Fishing out the bucket hat from the basket, he shook it a little so it would have a nice shape before putting it on your head, kissing your lips softly as he looked at you, "these are new and I needed my prettiest model to try them on first", he charmed as you blushed, "plus, I don't want the sun to blind you or burn you".

You cycled around your favourite spots in town, Lando occasionally taking pictures of the city and you with his camera and waving at the odd person who noticed and recognised it was him and you on the bikes, before you returned to the park, deciding to cycle to your favourite spot by the old big trees, blossoming from the spring sun.

"Thank you for this", you mumbled as you wiped your lips free of crumbs from the cake you had.

"Y/N, I won't stop fighting for us when we have something worth fighting for", he smiled, pulling you to lay on the blanket with him and holding your hands between your bodies, "I also got this really cool invite for the new exhibition at the museum - that one you wanted to see - and you want to know why it is so cool? Because we get the exhibition all to ourselves, no one else is going to be there which means you can take as long as you want and I can admire you all to myself and all I want too", he kissed your cheek.

"Sounds like a nice plan, thank you", you kissed his jaw.

.

You scanned your paddock pass as walked in the directions you were giving, not wanting to mess up the schedule and the lined up events everyone had.

They had been experimenting with new events to promote motorsport, adding parties and sunset events to the race weekend on order to gather all of the sponsors, famous people and fans who were interested in seeing the behind the scenes of a luxurious and extravagant race weekend.

"Everyone who still doesn't have a bracelet can come through here, please", one of the women in black suits called as you stood in that line, waiting for you turn.

"Here you go, enjoy the party!", she smiled, letting you go through and carrying on with her tasks.

The section involving the paddock, pitlane and the starting grid decorated with lights over bars serving drinks while staff went around with trays with small canapés.

You supposed this did work or they wouldn't try it out, after all it was an expensive sport and the more investors and sponsors they got, the better, so every little interaction and publicity was welcomed. You recognised a lot for the faces from Instagram and other social media platforms, along with some of the sponsors you had spent races sitting next to in the garage.

The face you wanted to see the most was nowhere in sight as you saw Oscar and Zak in the distance, talking to someone you recognised being one of their sponsors.

When you stepped closer to the area where most drivers seemed to be hanging out, you spotted Lando and he spotted you.

It had been nearly a year since you called it quits. It wasn't working for you and no matter how much Lando tried and fought for your relationship, you still didn't feel comfortable and thought you'd be better without eachother. It wasn't easy and to this day it would probably be one of your biggest regrets.

Maybe today you'd get to ease that heavy feeling in your chest.

Lando knew a lot of people would be there tonight, but your face wasn't one he expected. Last thing he heard about you was that you had made a small career switch and started working with another company, so he figured you were probably invited through one of the people with deep pockets wanting to invest in motorsport, knowing how it always looks nice on the company to invite employees to these fixtures.

As he saw his father and Max walk up to where you were, he walked in your direction, hoping to divert them so they wouldn't see you, another person pulled him with him to the side for a photo and it became impossible for him to not notice you and the other way around.

“It’s been… It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?”, you spoke up when you locked eyes and stood close enough to eachother.

"Yes, it has", Lando stated, "how have you been?", he wondered.

"I've been okay, and I see you have been doing well too - the car looks great this year", you congratulated, "I've been meaning to text you because I wanted to talk", you tried.

It took you some time to work on your insecurities, to learn to feel uncomfortable in some situations and get yourself out of them, and now you felt ready to begin again, feeling comfortable in your own skin.

"What did you want to tell me? You can tell me here", he stated coldly.

To say you broke his heart would be an understatement.

Despite all of his efforts, stopping DJ'ing, being conscious of who he hung out with, making sure he spent as much time with you as he could, you still raised concerns about how you were like oil and water.

Not made to be together.

"This really isn't the best place", you looked around as he pulled you inside the McLaren garage that was just on the side, exchanging a look with the security guard that was making sure no one broke in without permission.

"Is it good here now?", he offered.

"It will have to do", you smiled, "I'm sorry things didn't work out before - I wasn't in a good place and things weren't working out the way I'd like", you offered, "and I feel better now".

"Let me stop you right there before this gets out of hand and I hurt you, because I have never wanted that and I don't want it now", Lando said sternly, catching you off guard, "making peace with the fact that we weren't going to work out together was one of the hardest things I've done - I was miserable, didn't enjoy racing or anything that I was doing because I didn't have you by my side - you left me when I needed you", he poured his heart out.

He didn't shout and he didn't yell, but every word stung. Both from how true they were and how he had hurt because of you.

"I'm sorry, Lando, I wasn't trying to diminish how you felt then", you clarified.

"I know you didn't, but this isn't how it works, fuck", he rubbed his temple, "You don’t get to just waltz back into my life and think that I’d be okay with it - I waited so long for you, and I wanted to wait longer if you had let me, but now I can't do that, not anymore", he stated firmly.

"Are you saying we don't have another chance?", you asked as your bottom lip wobbled, "I promise I'll be more open about how I feel, and second guessing wo-".

“You were it at one point, you know?”, Lando shook his head as he looked at his feet before looking up back at you, "my parents, Max, Carlos - everyone agreed with me when I said you were my endgame", he offered.

There had been a time where he wished for this. For you to come to him and tell him you wanted him back and how it had all been a mistake. Now that he was hearing it, he realised he didn't want it, not anymore.

[plsdonttakemyname]

Boothill x G!n Reader

A/n ; this post is literally inspired by this post on TikTok HDHAJBDHSJSJDH 'M CRYINFFG..... I'm so sorry I haven't posted for soooo goddamn long... forgive me if my writing has gotten even worse mggggrr .. Wrote this at 3am, please let me know if I did typos... :'3

Mentions ; Boothill, Cyborg body parts, Poor bby can't feel physical affections like hugs and hand holding :(..Fluff fluff fluff grrrr...I'm trying my best not to turn this into an angst..Modern Au (I guess?), :3 Reader uses lipstick (no gender mentioned), Use of nicknames for reader (Doll,Baby,Etc...), OOC BOOTYHILL :(...

.. 𝑳𝒊𝒑𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒌 𝑺𝒕𝒂𝒊𝒏𝒔 ..

You and Boothill have been dating for almost 2 years , right now he has you on his lap. You were testing out the lipstick you got recently on him and he agreed to it. His face now covered in different shades of lipsticks.

"mm, I kinda like this shade, what do you think about it 'hun?" he wrapped his arms around your waist while supporting you on his lap " I don't mind what shade of lipstick you use doll...you'd look absolutely stunning with anything" he answered as you smiled at his reply, leaning in to kiss his cheeks "Flatterer.." He lets out a small chuckle before leaning in again for another kiss "What can I say? I love my sweetheart this much" he said as you caress his cheeks, nuzzling her nose against his slightly while knowing it brings him comfort due to being the only place he can feel any real warmth. Yet you continue to show him you care in the small ways you can, showing you love him in these simple things. The both of you are resting on the couch and enjoying each other's company before he slowly speaks up and breaks the comfortable silence "Do my cyborg body parts bother you?" You were caught off guard by his sudden question. you shook your head, planting another kiss on his lips before answering him "No..of course not..what makes you say that?" He shrugged as he pulled you in closer in his arms while he nuzzled in the crook of your neck "Nothin'..I'm just askin.." you wrapped your arms around his neck in response as you ran your fingers through his silky white long hair while he cuddled with you on the couch. Minutes have passed when you suddenly remembered that your boyfriend is still covered in your lipstick..."Baby I think we should wash the lipstick away before it stains your face" with a few moments of silence, he pulled away and looked at you "good..let it stain then."

PLEASE THIS IS HORRIBLE WRITTEN,Im so sorry if I disappoint . :( my schedule has been very packed lately and I have to drive and pick my cousin up from school whenever I get free times.. Also wrote this at 4am without any sleep. I'm so sorry again if there's a grammar error. I feel so anxious when I post because I'm scared it's gonna be bad..but I'm trying my best despite having a packed schedule. But if you have any ideas, feel free to request , I'll try my best to take them when I'm free

© 2024 plsdonttakemyname do not repost, copy, translate, modify.

[wh0reforcoriolanussnow]

A Mended Heart || D. Targaryen x oc, Robb Stark x oc

GIF by @lady-arryn DIVIDERS by @straywords

summary: Alysanne's marriage to her older brother, Daemon was once full of prosperity. As thirteen years and six children pass by, their marriage starts to crumble, his loyalty was nowhere to be found and so an annulment was requested. Years later when Daemon's second wife, Laena, dies tragically, the Prince attempts to rekindle his relationship with his dear sister. But is she willing to leave the life she built in Winterfell?

a/n: note that this a request!! i just made it into a lil series :)

P.t 1

"An annulment?" Viserys' eyebrows raises at his brother's absurdity. "She's our sister, your wife, and mother to your children, Daemon. What possible reason do you-" "People change, brother." The Prince taps his finger on the table, already bored and wanting to leave.

Viserys sighs, his hands rubbing his forehead. "And she agreed?" A scoff leaves Daemon's lips. "Whether or not she fucking agrees is her problem. I get to make this decision, not her." He spat, the King was baffled at the words of younger brother. He was treating their sister as if she was simply a commoner.

"And what of the children?" Daemon's mind goes to the image of his six children. A sigh leaves his lips, his head leaning back on the chair, "They are mine. But Alysanne will take them, and, they are still my heirs." Although their marriage was going to be annulled, he still loved his children. They still hold their titles as Prince's and Princess's.

Viserys nods. "I had hoped you and Alysanne were to be together till death parted with the two of you. Please, think about what your wanting to do right now, brother. For the sake of me, Alysanne, your children!" Viserys pleaded, he did not want his family crumbling apart because of this.

"We were always told we were to marry since birth. We were forced into this. |love her as my blood, my sister, but we weren't made to marry each other." Daemon voiced out. The elder lets out a sigh of defeat. "I cannot force you to stay in a marriage with her, but please, I do not want this to be the reason our family is split apart," the King sternly says as Daemon gets up from his seat.

"Of course, your Grace," He bows his head and leaves the room. Viserys watched with sadden eyes, saddened for his younger sister.

"It's done. We are free from each other," Daemon leans back on the chair, his voice flat. Alysanne rolls her eyes as she continues her embroidery. "Where are the children?" He questions, "With their wet nurse, why?" She finally looks at him. "To say goodbye." He stands up, the Targaryen Princess furrowed her eyebrows at him “Where are you going?" Daemon chuckles, "To Dragonstone, sister. Do you think I would stay here in King's Landing?"

Alysanne was surprised that Daemon was leaving so quickly. She did not care though. "No. I know how much you dread it here," She mutters, her hands back working on embroidering. Daemon looks stares at her. She could feel his stare so she looks up with a sigh. "Yes?"

"Goodbye then. Let me remind you that I get to see our children whenever I want-“ “Yes yes I know. You've not only told me about a hundred times Daemon. I'm not cruel, they're still your children," Alysanne replies, annoyed at the constant remindering. "Good, l'll be on my way" He nods curtly at before walking to her.

He awkwardly stands infront of her. Her gaze on his shoes before she turns her head and lets him kiss her on the cheek. Although they used to be Husband and Wife, they were still Brother and Sister. No words were exchanged and Daemon left what used to be their shared bedchambers.

As she sat there alone, she pondered back on their marriage. It was once filled with prosperity but things changed. They both changed. She never forgot how loved she felt from Daemon or how loving he was to their children. His loyalties changed, and they both mutually agreed that this would be for the best.

Alysanne didn't realise she was crying until she felt something wet on her cheeks. "Mother?" Her sons voice called out as she quickly wiped the salty tears away. "Yes, darling" She smiled at her eldest son who was ten-and-two. "Why is father going to Dragonstone without us?" He asks as the Princess moves aside to let him sit beside her.

She smiled, her hands brushing through his blonde hair. "Because your father is staying there from now on, okay?”He still loves you all very much but it is best he stays there and I, here with you all." Her hand moves to his chin to make him look at her. Aegon slowly nods.

"Come on, I think we should go for our walk now," She says brightly, setting down her embroidery, but Aegon doesn't budge. "Father won't be there," He points out. Alysanne sighed, sitting back down. They would all walk together every afternoon when they can, with all the children. But now that Daemon was gone, it was only to be Alysanne and her children.

"Why don't we ask uncle if he would like to join us?" She suggests, attempting to cheer Aegon up. He thinks before nodding. Of course, Viserys was more than happy to go on a family stroll with his sister and nieces and nephews.

"What a fine day it is today isn't it, children?" Alysanne smiles at them as they reply with yes. "What do you plan on doing now, sister?" Viserys asks, Alysanne’s youngest, Visenya in his arms. She sighs, watching her twins, Rhaena and Baela chasing after each other.

"I'm still the Princess, brother. I have many options." She assures him with a smile for Alysanne knew that Viserys was worried. “Oh stop worrying about Daemon and I Viserys. You have more urgent things to worry about as King. We will greatly benefit from this, I can assure you" She pats his arm, “If you say so" The King sighs as Alysanne walks ahead to catch up with the rest of her children.

~

2 months later…

“You look handsome, sweet boy” Alysanne kisses the crown of her Daeron’s head. He was sat on her lap as she brushed through his hair, he was dressed handsomely for the celebration of Rhaenyra’s name day.

Before the Princess could say anything, a knock comes from the door. It was her handmaiden, Dyana. “Princess, I have news” She bows as she urges forward to Alysanne. “What is it?” She asks, intrigued. Dyana awkwardly looks to Daeron who was busy playing with the jewellery on the table.

“I think it’s best if Prince Daeron leaves the room,” She quietly says, her gaze stuck on the floor. Alysanne gives her a skeptical looks but nonetheless takes her advice. “Ser Harwin!” She calls out and the door immediately opens revealing her sworn protector. “You wouldn’t mind if you watched Daeron for a bit would you?” A kind smile makes it to her pink lips.

“Not at all, Princess,” Harwin sends back a smile, “Come one Daeron,” He beckons the young boy as he happily runs to Harwin. After the sound of the door shut was heard, Alysanne focuses her attention back on Dyana. “Now tell me,” “Prince Daemon is betrothed to Laena Velaryon,”

It didn’t faze the Princess that Daemon was already betrothed to another. It did surprise her though, how quickly her brother moved on. Alysanne chuckled, “Oh Dyana, you know I care little of what my brother does. Are they expecting a child yet?” She jokingly says, turning around to choose out her jewellery.

The Targaryen was met with silence. Her eyes move up to the mirror to look at Dyana. “Yes, they are.” She quietly answers. Alysanne did not expect the answer but yet again, she was not much surprised. “Well, I am happy for them. Laena is a sweet girl,” Alysanne smiles, fidgeting with the necklace.

Dyana studies the Princess, she seemed bothered. The door opened, “Princess, the celebrations are to start soon” Harwin says as Daeron peaks his head in the room. “Wonderful,” Getting up from her seat, she takes ahold of Daeron’s hand and leaves the room. Ser Harwin close behind.

It pained the heart of Alyssane in an unexplainable way. Maybe it was because it had only been 2 months since the annulment of their marriage and that he had moved on so quickly from her. Though they used to be husband and wife, Daemon was still her older brother. And she still loved him as an older brother.

Walking into the throne room where Rhaenyra’s celebration was held, Alysanne was accompanied by Ser Harwin Strong. Her six children, Aegon, Visenya, Daeron, Rhaena, Baela, and her youngest—only 10 months old—Maegor with her. It never failed to amaze the realm how much Daemon and Alysanne’s children looked like them.

They were spitting images of their parents and a nod to the people of old Valyria. “Sister,” Viserys stands from his seat and places a kiss on Alysanne’s cheek. “Brother,” She smiles back, sitting down at the Royal table. The celebrations commenced and it was in full swing.

The thought of Daemon marrying and expecting a child still lingered in the Princess’ mind. Biting her lip constantly and tapping her finger on the table, Viserys noticed the signs of his sister’s anxiousness. “Are you alright?” He leans to her and speaks in a hushed tone.

Stopping her finger tapping, she sends Viserys a look before facing the front and sighing. “Our dear brother has remarried,” The King sighs, shakes his head and takes a sip of his mead, “And they are expecting a child.” Alysanne finishes, this time it was her turn to drink the alcohol as Viserys stares wide-eyed at his sister.

He knew what kind of person Daemon was, but lately it seemed like he doesn’t know what Daemon has become. Viserys holds Alysanne’s hand and gives her a reassuring squeeze of the hand. “I can always make that child illegitimate you know? Aegon is your firstborn, a male. And all your children are heirs-“ Alysanne laughs at her brother.

“Viserys, you know if you did that, you would be denying your own blood. I am not worried about Daemon’s heirs with Laena, he too knows that Aegon is the heir and so are our 5 other children. He would be a fool to not acknowledge that” Her eyes stay focused on her children dancing.

Viserys smiles and nods, “Yes, you are right. Like you always are, sister” He pats her hand and the two siblings smile at each other. Conversations fell on the Royal table before a man presents himself in front of Viserys and Alysanne. “Lord Stark, what a pleasure seeing you here!” Viserys smiles at the insanely handsome man standing there.

Alysanne listen quitely, Robb’s and her eyes often connecting. “Yes, always a pleasure to come visit King’s Landing, Your Grace” He chuckles, showcasing his pearly white smile. Then his attention shifts to the Princess. “Princess,” He bows his head at her as she does the same,

“My Lord, how is business up in the North? I’ve always been meaning to come visit with my children. Visenya loves the snow,” Alysanne smiles, her mind going back to her second eldest.

Robb stares with a wide smile at the Targaryen Princess. Something, only Viserys notices. Truth be told, whenever Robb was in King’s Landing, his eyes never seem to keep themselves off of Alysanne. She was beautiful, the realm’s beauty they would call her.

The Stark man was an honourable and respectful man so he never initiated anything with the then married Princess. When news arrived at Winterfell that the Princess and Prince’s marriage was annulled, Robb was secretly celebrating.

Viserys’ yes move back and forth from the Lord of Winterfell and his younger sister. “The children seem to be having fun dancing,” He comments with a mischievous look. Alysanne hums mindlessly. Robb chuckles to himself, giving a nod to the King as a small thanks. “Might I have a dance, Princess?”