#had a moment in the hotel room like i want this forever. i want this life forever. i still do. i miss them so fucking much
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bratbarzal · 2 days ago
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On My Side (NH13)
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Pairing: Nico "I think the hockey gods were on my side" Hischier x Fem!OC Poppy
WC: 6k
part of the On Your Side universe
*This is a bonus chapter set after the ending of the overall fic, and can be read as a standalone if you haven't read the fic, but if you want to understand their dynamic and Poppy's personality a little more, you should!!!
Description: 18+ MDNI, Nico comes home to Poppy after scoring his first ever career hat-trick for the Devils. Way more fluff than smut but Nico is down bad as always.
A/N: You're all a bunch of enablers and that's all I have to say on the matter!!! Hope this fills the void while I continue to struggle with chapter ten lmao there is mention of Baby Cheeto in here but no spoilers for her name. Nico calls her Bug as a nickname, like _____-Bug, Chäferli (little bug) or just Bug for short, but it isn't her actual name. I can't use Cheeto forever lmao. I was literally trying to think of a title and remembered he said the words "on my side" WHAT IF I TOLD YOU HE'S A MASTERMIND he's an oys!truther if I ever saw one! Painfully obsessed with Poppy if you ask me. Also the way Cheeto would rock the heck out of this it's so cute I had to share
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Nico Hischier likes to think he’s a patient man.
Finally scoring his first career hat-trick after 8 years in the NHL, after 476 games played with the Devils, would be the ultimate testament to that.
Doing so in the first ever game with his daughter in attendance - on home turf, his mother and Poppy holding her up in the family suite during warm-ups in her little Devils teddy sleeper that he can only just make out from down on the ice, but has his rampant heart beating out of his chest all the same - has him thinking that maybe, after all those years, after all those games, the stars had been aligning for him the whole time. 
And it was that sort of patience he had tried to tune into since the end of the second period, when he knew Poppy had left early to try skip traffic and get their little girl home safe for bed.
It’s what he tries to channel in the aftermath of the game, swarmed by reporters in the locker room, trying to remain polite and professional, not rushing them through their questions or giving half-assed answers - knowing he owes a lot more than that to the organisation that has allowed him to get this far. Trying to save just a speck of energy to give when he finally gets home, collapsing into the warm embrace of the girls he knows are waiting patiently for him.
It’s what he holds onto when he has to take a detour on his way home, dropping his mom off at her hotel and trying not to visibly squirm in his seat as she regales him with stories of how his daughter had captured the hearts of everyone she encountered, swallowing down the slight jealousy that he hadn’t been there to see it and clinging to the fact that he had his own success elsewhere in the night - success that played second fiddle in his own mother’s eyes to the experience of sharing her granddaughter’s first ever game with her, an experience he had to endure twice as she called his father from his car, deep chuckles ringing through the speakers as he tried to get a word in edge ways beyond her excitement.
It’s what has him shaking with anticipation as he almost skips down the hall to their apartment, mustering up the rest of his energy to walk into their home without the weight of the world on his shoulders, leaving any doubt, any insecurity, any lingering self-deprecation at the door so he can bask in this moment with the two hearts that are shaped entirely to fit him into them.
And it’s what has him shaking off whatever disappointment tries to creep in when he sees his little girl asleep in Poppy’s arms, knowing whatever tiny part of her he will ever get will always be enough - even if her big, glassy eyes aren’t looking up at him, even if he doesn’t come home to one of those heart-stopping beaming smiles she has started to give to him whenever he enters the room - her being here, sleeping safely in the arms of her beautiful mother, and him getting to come home to whatever version of them he can, is more than he could ever ask for.
“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the hat-trick hero.” Poppy’s soft voice carries to him as he makes his way over, dropping his bag on the floor and keys on the counter, heading straight to where she is now standing and pressing a kiss to her waiting lips. “Hi, handsome.”
“She didn’t wanna say goodnight to her daddy, huh?” He tries not to sound too dejected - he’s supposed to be on a high, after all - but after half an hour of his mother unintentionally bragging about all the attention she had been giving to her Gromi all night, he can’t help the slight sag of his shoulders - especially knowing that she’s going to be spending the morning with his mom tomorrow, too.
“Sorry, baby, we watched a little of you on the TV and then she got hangry,” Nico finds himself hypnotised by her still figure, enamoured with the way she exudes sheer calmness. The smile that creeps up on his lips seems to do so by muscle memory - a dopey kind of smile he’s probably had plastered on his face since she came into the world kicking and screaming 2 months ago, a smile permanently etched into his features from probably even before that. “I promise I tried to keep her up, she literally fell asleep on my boob.” Poppy whispers, watching with warm, glittery eyes as Nico takes in the sight of his two favourite people in front of him - Poppy already changed into one of his shirts, settled for the night, and his baby girl all cosy in her little teddy bear onesie, pacifier bobbing between her plush little lips.
“Look at her hat,” he pouts, running a finger along the folded seam of the way-too-big beanie Poppy has perched on top of her head, the knit fabric falling just short of her closed eyes. “That’s adorable.”
“Your mom put it on her before we left,” Poppy chuckles lightly, “Wanted to keep it on until you got home, we had to celebrate the hatty properly.” Her brows raise as if gesturing to the bill of the cap on her own head, one of his, he’s sure - no doubt stolen from their closet as soon as she got home.
“My little good luck charm,” he leans down to press a kiss to her cheek before he lifts himself back up and bends toward Poppy, “Gonna have to start coming to all the games.”
“I’ll let you break the news to her when she wakes up,” she hums as he presses his lips to hers, “She has a very low tolerance for everybody telling her to smile and getting all up in her space, been grouchy all night.”
“Just like Mami, huh, bug?”
“Oh, you think you’ve got jokes now?” Poppy scoffs as she steps back, ready to take their daughter to bed.  “Score your first hatty and you think you’re funny?”
“Always been funny, babe,” he smirks, flicking at the cap sat on her head before he takes it off, flipping it to place on top of his own and following her down the hall. “I’ll prove it to you when I get her first laugh.”
“She’ll be laughing at you, not with you.”
“Better than nothing.”
Nico sits on the edge of their bed as Poppy reaches into the crib to retrieve the sleeping bag in there before she lays it down beside him. He does the work unzipping and readying it for her to place their daughter inside while she rocks her still-sleeping body, and the two of them work in tandem to get her inside before zipping her back up, with Nico softly pulling the beanie from her head and watching her fluffy hair fan out in its absence. 
He runs a gentle hand over her head to smooth it down as Poppy lifts her, and leans into where she offers her up for a kiss before she puts her in the crib. Nico watches with a soft smile etched into his features, the familiarity of it all spreading warmth throughout his chest, his favourite part of every day being this - sharing a goodnight routine in the comfortable quiet, the two loves of his life safe and happy within arms reach.
None of it feels new or daunting anymore, just easy - and despite the constant warnings of it not always being this way, Nico just wants to feel it to its fullest extent; sheer happiness and serenity. 
Poppy returns to the front of him, and he instinctively spreads his legs to accommodate her, palms laying flat against his chest and his hands falling to her hips. She just looks at him for a good few seconds, eyes shimmering with admiration, lips tugged between teeth and a head tilted as her expression flickers into something more intense. 
Her hands travel down his arms, wordlessly, until she grasps at his wrists and pulls him to stand, leaning up to press a fleeting kiss to the corner of his mouth. “C’mon,” she whispers while her lips are still against his skin, “Wanna celebrate you.”
As if getting to come home to her isn’t celebration enough.
He follows her back through the hall with their hands clasped together, arms stretched between them so he can watch the hem of his shirt ride up against the backs of her soft thighs, and he starts to feel his throat go dry.
He thinks of all those mornings they would spend in the kitchen together in the summer, his shirts a little tighter around her pregnant belly, riding up against her curves and leaving very little to the imagination when she’d wear just his t-shirt and nothing else.
She’s wearing panties now, he can tell, could see the bottom of them peaking out when she’d leaned over to put their daughter in her crib. But he doesn’t mind inching them off, quite likes the slow pace of unwrapping her like a gift - a well-deserved present for all his hard efforts on the ice.
It’s where his fingers find themselves almost immediately when she stops just short of the couch, spinning and practically launching herself into his waiting arms. He can’t help but chuckle as they collide, large arms wrapping around her frame as she melts into him, hands gripping either side of his jaw to pull him down in a clash of teeth and tongues. He palms at her ass as she presses her hips forward, fingers slipping under the hem of her panties and wriggling under them until his knuckles are covered by the fabric, squeezing at the flesh until she groans into his open mouth. 
He feels deft fingers working between them to rid him of his own clothes, clumsily popping open the buttons of his jacket before working their way up his chest, slipping into the arms and helping him shrug it off. The weight of it drops to the floor with a heavy thud, and when her hands return to his chest for the next item of clothing to be removed, she pushes him back with an exaggerated huff.
“Baby, how many layers do you need?”
“You in some kind of rush, or something?” He chuckles, chasing her lips with a crane of his neck, getting a quick kiss in before she pushes him back again with palms laid flat on his broad chest.
“Your daughter has some sort of radar for when we’re within 2 inches of each other,” she says as her hands slide down, the feel of them through the extra layers he has on still present as she travels past the hard ridges of his abdomen. She grasps tight at the bottom of his hoody, and he lends a hand to tugging it up and over his head, throwing that to the floor, too. “We gotta get a move on before she wakes up,”
“My daughter?” He scoffs, removing his undershirt while she’s distracted, relishing the feeling of a heavy gaze on his chest once it’s fully revealed to her hungry eyes. “She’s really given you such a hard time that you’re disowning her?”
“She isn’t letting me have a hard time at all, that’s the problem.” Her hands reach back out seemingly of their own volition, fingers fanning out across his skin as her stare glides down, the weight of it sliding down his skin to the point he feels the hairs on the back of his neck stand to attention. 
“That was weak for you.” He teases.
“I’m out of practice,” she pouts, closing the distance once more and pressing her lips to the slightly stubbled skin of his jaw, nipping at the flesh as her ministrations travel across his features, his jaw, his neck, the spot just below his ear, where she mutters, “Wanna show you how proud I am of you,”
“Oh yeah?” He asks as she works at the button of his pants, pushing until they pool at his feet and he can kick them off.
“Mmhm,” she moves her kisses back to his waiting lips, “Been waiting to get my hands on you all night.”
“Been waiting to get my hands on you all day,” he mutters back, bending to lift her with hands gripping her ass, “Been thinking about you teasing me in the kitchen this morning,” he starts heading for the couch, mind spinning as she continues kissing him - thinking of all the plans she had been making for the two of them while his mom takes Little Bug out in the morning, finally giving them some much needed, uninterrupted time to themselves. Plans of wasting the morning away between the sheets, sharing showers, having no responsibilities other than paying attention to one another. “Thinking about having you all to myself tomorrow."
“You gonna let me give you a preview?” 
He chuckles as he falls back onto the couch, all grace thrown out the window as they sink into the cushions, her still holding onto him and now straddling his lap, lips stretched into a blissful smile as he looks up at her.
She presses them straight to his, and he can’t bring himself to mind the way their teeth clash at her eagerness, hips grinding down onto his as she settles onto her knees.
He could spend forever kissing her like this, sensual and sloppy, the slight scratch of her nails against the sides of his neck and his grip on her thighs guiding her movements straight onto the aching growth between his legs.
He bucks up to meet her, and their lips part with a wet smack as she groans. 
"Bet you can’t wait for me to shave, eh?” he smiles as he swipes a thumb across the space between her nose and lip, the skin red raw from the scratch of his moustache.
“You know damn well I’d ban you from ever touching a razor again if I could.” She says, breathlessly, slowly thrusting down onto him.
“Tell that to your little red muzzy, you’re giving Luke a run for his money,”
“Hey,” she swats at his chest in feigned outrage, “The kid tried his best!” 
“No more talk about Hughes when you’re sat on my lap,”
“You brought him up!”
“Thought I was getting a preview,” he groans as he shuffles, reaching between them to slip a hand between her legs, tucking his fingers beneath her panties and swiping against her heat. “Jesus, Poppy.”
“Told you I’ve been thinking about you all night,” she pecks at his lips again, raising her hips a little to give him further access to slide his fingers through the almost excessive wetness that’s near enough soaked through her panties. 
He prods at her entrance, two fingers slipping straight in until she’s gasping against his cheek in sheer bliss. His digits move with ease, working his way up to his knuckles as he drinks up her pleasured moans, his chin tilting until their open mouths just press together without kissing, panting against one another as he works her up. 
He pushes the fabric of his shirt up her thighs with his other hand, exposing his handiwork to hungry eyes so he can see the way she glistens between her legs - can see the way his fingers slide in an out of her.
She takes his shirt off, throwing it beside them on the couch so she can see too, looking down for only a moment before she’s throwing her head back.
He’s so hard just watching her that it’s almost painful - straining against the seams of his briefs until they’re tenting beneath her. And she must notice, nimble fingers working him out until he’s thick and hot and heavy in her palm, gripping around him in with her thumb swiping at his tip, hips shuffling until his fingers slip out of her heat and she can move on her knees to hover above his waiting cock. 
He takes a hold of himself while her hands raise to steady herself on his shoulders, and he waits with bated breath as she lowers herself, sinking past her entrance until he’s sheathed entirely, tight, wet walls wrapped around him in a long-awaited embrace.
Their moans fall out in sync, both of them stilling, the only movements between them being the soft rise and fall of panting chests. 
It’s a minute before she starts to rock her hips, leaning back down to distract herself from whatever unease needs to fade away with the press of her lips to his - tongue swiping at his, sucking and nipping at the muscle as she works herself to the point where she can lift herself up a little.
“Fuck me,” he whines out in an elongated groan as she sinks down on him again, tight and slick and warm, and he feels tension in every cell in his body, strung taut to the point where he feels like he could snap entirely in any given moment.
“I’m working on it,” she pouts, “Think I overestimated my talents here,”
“Think you’re very talented,” he hums, pressing a kiss to her jaw as he lays large hands on the dip of her waist, fingers tickling into the arch of her back so her movements are a little smoother, a little more fluid. “So good to me, yeah? Just need a hand.”
He guides her hips into a steady rhythm - up, down, forward, back - until she’s rocking onto him in a mind numbing pace. 
God, he thinks, this is heaven.
It’s been so long since he’s had her like this. Probably all the way back in Switzerland in the summer, and he thinks a lot about this situation mirrors that - trying to stay quiet, trying to feel as much of each other as they possibly can without drawing attention from sleeping parties one room over. 
He remembers thinking, all those months ago, that it wouldn’t be possible to love Poppy any more than he did, then - that he couldn’t possibly feel more for her than he did when he shared that part of his world, and she had embraced it with open arms. She had blended straight into his family, had adapted herself to his routine, had brought new life and colour to what he had always considered vibrant, anyway, but she had changed the meaning of it all.
But she had done the same to life in Jersey. 
Long gone were any feelings of homesickness he used to get - especially around this time of the year. Fully immersed now into his season, summer seeming too far from his reach that he started to forget what home felt like. But not anymore.
Home is Poppy. Home is their baby girl sleeping soundly in the next room. It’s playing one of the greatest games of his career so far, meeting milestones he had been reaching for for so long, standing in the centre of the arena he has built his career in, hearing the rapturous cheers of fans chanting his name, and driving back knowing the love garnered there could never possibly compare to the love waiting for him in his apartment.
He brings her face down with a palm splayed gently across her jaw, fingers reaching back to tickle at the nape of her neck and thumb swiping tenderly at her soft cheekbone, until their mouths collide. He shifts his hips to meet her ministrations, finding a rhythm that has her gasping into his mouth, enough that his tongue can slip past the seam of her lips and press against hers - hot and fervid and eager.
He wonders as the pressure builds if this passion will ever wither. If this need to profess his love for her will ever wain away, if he’ll ever be casual about the way in which she has become the entire centre of his universe.
He hopes not. 
He hopes when he’s 80, he looks over at her and his heart still hammers in his chest. He hopes his mouth struggles to make sense of all the ways in which his brain tries to convey what she means to him - hopes he still stutters around his sentences and feels weak to the very base of his spine at the mere thought of her. 
In fact, he doesn’t hope at all.
He knows he will.
“You feel so good,” Poppy mutters into his mouth, panting against his swollen lips, “I’ve missed this so much.”
“Yeah?” He thrusts up, “You missed being full of me?”
He’s missed this far out look in her eyes, glassed over and almost gone as she nods in response - they haven’t really been able to get to this stage with their quick fumbles and rushed hookups in the last 2 weeks since she got the all clear from her doctor for them to start being intimate again. Sure, they had developed other methods over those first 6 weeks, making good use of hands and mouths in whatever limited time they could find together, but nothing compares to this.
To being attached at every point like they are one.
“You gonna come for me?”
He still remembers her tells, fluttering lashes, trembling thighs, stuttered breaths all combined with the spine tingling way in which she tightens around him, and he manages to time it so they come together, one final burst of energy used to lift his hips just as she sinks down, body slumping into tremors that wrack through the both of them.
He holds her in place for a second, large hands pushing his shirt up her back as he starts to rub circles into her flesh, soothing her back into a softened consciousness - hazy and frazzled but still in tune with every movement he makes. 
Her nose presses into the expanse of his neck, lips pecking at all the sensitive spots she can seek out as they both try to catch their breaths - and he realises she was probably right before, they haven’t had time like this for a while now. 
Still, he’ll take what he can get.
She lifts her hips just enough for him to slip out, and reaches to the small table at the side of the couch where she has miraculously stashed a pack of baby wipes. She takes two out, using one to clean the both of them before she bundles it into the clean one and discards of it back onto the table to be disposed when she eventually gets the feeling back in her legs.
And it’s as soon as Poppy’s legs give way and she collapses into him that they both hear it - a soft wail carrying through the monitor behind the couch. Cries filling the space around them and bursting their bubble with an almighty pop!
“Told you,” Poppy mumbles into his neck, skin sticky with a soft sheen of sweat. “Won’t even let me get a hatty of my own,”
Nico scoffs, snorting out a loud chuckle that shakes where she rests on his chest, and despite her feigned irritation, she feels her cheeks puff out into a soft, unbreakable grin. “Like you’d have lasted 3 rounds.”
“What happened to me being very talented?” She pouts, mustering whatever strength she has left to push herself up, swinging a leg back over and moving to stand, only for him to grasp back at her, pulling her until her back falls into the plush of the couch.
“Talented, Poppy, not super human,” he chuckles, standing from the cushions and tucking himself back into his briefs. “I’ve got her.”
“It’s probably wind, I changed and fed her before she went down.”
He presses one last kiss to Poppy’s head before heavy feet carry him down the hall toward their bedroom, where their daughter’s crib is temporarily positioned until she starts to sleep a little further through the night. He doesn’t bother flicking the light on as he enters, able to follow his muscle memory straight over to where she is without tripping over his own feet, and he lifts her as soon as he can, cooing at her as she cries into his chest.
“I’ve got you, Chäferli,” he mutters as he rocks her gently, large hand completely encompassing where he can feel her back through her sleeping bag. “Daddy’s here,”
He reaches over to shut off the monitor before he ambles over to his and Poppy’s bed, sitting with his daughter still clutched to his chest, little hiccups coming out as his hand tries to work up her wind. 
“Got yourself all worked up, huh?” He asks, so deep into his routine of talking to her about anything and everything that he no longer second guesses it. “My little bug, you’re okay.”
It takes a good few minutes to calm her down, to the point that Nico thinks she might even be hungry and he’ll have to call Poppy in, wiggling a finger between her lips to see if she latches on, but he continues to pat and rub at her back until she burps, and her cries turn into little coos, that turn into soft pants with wide, sparkling eyes staring up at him in wonder. 
He looks down at her in the same way, dark eyes flitting across her every feature. Across the soft but thick head of hair, the crazy long eyelashes, the puffy lips and the little button nose. 
She looks so much like Poppy that he feels his chest ache every time he looks at her - but it’s a good kind of ache, a longing and content kind of ache, that only aches to remind him of everything he stands to lose if he doesn’t work hard enough to keep it.
“Gromi told me you were charming everybody at daddy’s work,” he tells her with a soft smile, the pad of his finger pressing at the tip of her nose. “Says she’s gonna have to show you off around the city on her own tomorrow.”
Tiny fingers reach up to clasp around his, holding on and clutching with a grip he’s sure wasn’t so firm that morning when he had said his goodbyes. 
“Careful, bug,” he tells her, “You hold Papi’s hand too long and he won’t let you go.”
Wide eyes gleam back at him, and he watches in awe as they start to crinkle in the corners. 
He becomes all too aware of the hammering of his heart, and lays her beside him on the bed in fears that the echoing thud of it beating against his chest might disturb her. He curls up beside her, making sure she’s flat as he gets himself comfortable, and just lays there for a good few minutes, watching her as she watches him.
There isn’t a feeling in the world that compares to this, he thinks. He could score a hundred hat-tricks, have a million people chanting his name, and it won’t come close to how adored he feels in this moment, how proud he feels to have played any part in making a little human so perfect and beautiful.
He leans forward, kissing softly at her puffy cheek, careful not to press too hard that she feels the scratch of his moustache, and he relishes the little squeal of what he hopes is delight she gives in return. 
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Poppy gives it 20 minutes before she decides to venture through to their bedroom, having cleaned up and busied herself sterilising bottles so they’re ready for Katja to come pick up in the morning. It’s been a rare occurrence lately that Nico has had his one-on-one time with their daughter, him being so busy with training and their trip to Florida - and he wouldn’t say it, wouldn’t fess up to the ways in which it gets him down, but she knows he feels like he’s missing a lot. 
She changes so much day to day - discovers so much about the world around her - and as much as Poppy tries to save things for him to see on his own, tries to find the balance between sharing the little moments she gets with him and letting him experience them for himself, she knows there’s nothing she can do to keep that nagging voice at bay.
He’s always been that way, unable to completely silence the thoughts that tell him no matter what he does, it isn’t enough. 
He’d even done it tonight - his first career hat-trick, him being the first Swiss-born player to score a natural hat-trick, a stadium filled with fans chanting his name, dominating a team the Devils hadn’t beat at home in close to 10 years - and it hadn’t been his best performance. 
She would gladly spend the rest of her life convincing him he’s good enough, she thinks. 
Her and their little Bug being the ones who get to welcome him home after a night like tonight? She doesn’t know what she did in a past life to get the Gods on her side like this, but she’d do it again a thousand times over.
As her feet pad softly down the hall toward their room, she listens out for the soft voice she usually has the pleasure of eavesdropping on when she thinks he doesn’t know she’s hovering on the other side of the door. A soft voice that tells their little girl exaggerated stories from his day about her uncles, about his games, about whatever he got up to while he was away and what he brought back for her from his travels. But this time, it’s quiet - the peaceful kind of quiet that wraps around her like a blanket, tranquil and warming as she pushes the door open and steps into the room.
Nico is curled up on his side of the bed, on top of the covers, and his arm is draped gently over their daughter’s sleeping bag, their faces inches apart as soft snores fall from their parted lips. She inches closer as quiet as she can manage, leaning over them and taking in their similar profiles - the gentle slope of their mirrored noses, dark lashes framing closed eyes that are turning darker to match her daddy’s day by day.
If anyone had told the Poppy of last November that this is where she would be now - that this is where she’d be with Nico - she never in a million years would have believed it. 
He has transformed her life in such little time that she can barely remember the before. Can barely remember a night she fell asleep in any other bed, by any other side, or woke up to anyone else. Can barely remember feeling anything close to this kind of happiness, this kind of content.
It’s like he’s introduced her to a whole new level of feelings. Ones she struggles to describe, like there’s no word in the English language that could possibly convey what he means to her.
Maybe his language has a word for it. Something that she’s never heard before, but just sounds right. Like she knew it somewhere much deeper than her brain allowed her access. She’ll have to ask him, tomorrow - when they finally have a morning to themselves and she can work up the energy to crawl out from under the sheets with him.
A part of her wishes she could take a snapshot of this moment - could send it back in time to the Poppy who never thought this kind of life would ever find her. The Poppy who was drifting, coasting, floating, afraid of landing on her own two feet and having to drag them for the rest of time through unfamiliar territories. The Poppy who pushed down her ever expanding adoration for the man currently cuddled up to their entire life in the bed they share, who convinced herself he could never possibly feel the same way, and wasted years of her life when she could have had this.
But another part of her thinks, what’s the point?
She has him, now. 
She’ll have him forever.
She allows herself to watch for a minute as they take deep breaths in sync, all the post-game tension in Nico’s body long melted away, before she quietly shuffles over to the bathroom to get herself ready for bed. 
She manages to make her way back over in the dark without stumbling, by some miracle, and reaches over to pick her baby girl up without interrupting her sleep, standing beside her crib and rocking her a little just to make sure she’s still fully drifted off - relishing the feeling of soft puffs of air falling into her neck as she cradles her.
Nico must wake at the loss of contact, instincts kicking in immediately when he can no longer feel the little body that had been resting under his protective arm, and when Poppy looks back over, she can see the reflective glint in his eyes as he watches her - soft and adoring and tooth-achingly sweet. 
Instead of putting her down, she bounces gently on her feet back over to Nico’s side of the bed, sitting beside him as he shuffles up, and the two of them just watch their daughter as she sleeps. 
For all the times they have been warned that this bliss is temporary, that it’s just a phase, Poppy can’t see it ending for as long as Nico looks at her like this. Like he has the entire world sat in front of him. 
“She was smiling at me before,” he whispers as he repositions himself, legs spread so that Poppy can sit between them. “Was trying to get her to calm down, and she was just looking straight at me with those big sparkly eyes and she smiled right at me.”
“She was doing it a little when we got home, earlier.” Poppy whispers back, hoping he doesn’t mind her raining on his parade a little to tell this story, “We just caught your interview on TV after the game, and there was this close up of you, and she smiled so big, Nico. She never smiles like that for anybody.”
“That’s ‘cause you snitch on her and tell everyone it’s gas.”
“I don’t want anyone else thinking they’re special.”
“But I am?” He asks, reaching to swipe the back of his finger softly against her cheek, the soft moonlight sifting into the room reflecting off of the ring on his finger, the quick glimmer enough to catch Poppy’s eye, to distract her so much that she can only hum in response, lips curving into a tender smile. 
“Yeah,” she breathes, the tranquility of the room a stark contrast to the way her heart erupts into thunderous applause for him - akin to that of the stadium full of fans earlier that night. Thousands of voices chanting his name, singing his praises, cheering him on for all the glory he brought to their night. He brings that to Poppy, tenfold, every day. “You’re really special.”
He leans over their sleeping daughter to press a loving kiss to Poppy’s lips, careful not to disturb the little angel between them, and Poppy kisses him straight back, fervent but fleeting.
“I’m so proud of you, baby.” she mutters into his mouth, careful not to invest too much of herself into another moment they’ll swiftly get interrupted from. 
“You gonna show me in the morning?” He mumbles back, their lips still touching, noses pressed together, his hand still cradling her face. She nods, and he feels her cheeks round into his palm. “Gonna give me that hatty you promised?”
“Gonna give you whatever you want.”
“Another baby, Frau?”
She scoffs, swallowing down the fizzing feeling at the back of her throat the nickname. 
“Ask me again after your next hat-trick.” 
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acute-crashout-jeyuso · 23 hours ago
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Power: a Bloodline x Rhea Ripley fanfic.
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Chapter 6: Joshua pt. 2
December 7, 2024
Demi blinked groggily as sunlight filtered through the heavy hotel curtains, painting faint patterns across the room. Her body ached in ways she had grown accustomed to, but her mind felt heavier. She shifted slightly, trying not to disturb the warmth that cocooned her. Joshua’s arm was draped tightly around her, his body pressed protectively against hers.
She tilted her head to glance at him and froze. His usually confident face was softer now, vulnerable in a way she hadn’t seen before. Dried tear stains marred his cheeks, and his furrowed brow suggested a restless night. The sight of him like this sent a pang of guilt and something deeper through her chest.
“Josh?” she whispered softly, her voice barely audible.
He didn’t stir.
Demi studied his face. Gone was the pain she had seen during Joe’s reprimands, the frustration and fire that seemed to consume him . What remained was a brokenness she didn’t fully understand, and yet it mirrored something she often felt herself.
Unable to stop herself, she lightly touched his face, her fingers tracing the dried tear tracks. He stirred then, his eyes fluttering open, red-rimmed and clouded with exhaustion.
“Demi,” he murmured, his voice thick with sleep.
She pulled her hand back quickly, unsure of what to say. “Are you… okay?”
Joshua stared at her, his jaw tightening as though he was holding something back. He exhaled sharply through his nose, his grip on her loosening just slightly. “Yeah,” he lied, his voice flat.
“You don’t look okay,” she said, her voice trembling.
He sat up abruptly, running a hand down his face. “Doesn’t matter.”
Demi pushed herself up despite the sharp protests of her body. “It matters to me,” she said, her voice firmer now.
Joshua’s shoulders sagged, and he turned to look at her, the weight of the past few days evident in his eyes. “I just—” He stopped, clenching his fists as though struggling to keep himself together. “I couldn’t stop thinking about what they put you through. What I let happen.”
Demi reached out, placing a tentative hand on his arm. “Josh… it’s not your fault. Plus Jonathan took care of me after..”
His laugh was bitter, sharp. “Isn’t it? I didn’t stop it. I didn’t stop any of it and Jonathan only did that so you wouldn’t freak out too much.”
“What do you mean?”
He turned to her then, his eyes searching hers for something—absolution, understanding, forgiveness. He did not acknowledge his last remark about his twin. “Forget it. You don’t understand, Demi. I wanted to. I wanted to stop it so bad, but I was too weak. Too scared of Joe. Of what he’d do to you if I pushed harder.”
Demi’s chest tightened, and she reached for his hand, squeezing it tightly. “You’re not weak,” she said firmly. “You’re the only one who’s ever tried to protect me. Don’t you see that?”
Joshua looked down at their intertwined hands, his expression unreadable. After a moment, he brought her hand to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss against her knuckles.
“Demi,” he said quietly, his voice resolute. “I promise, Demi. I won’t let them hurt you again.”
Tears welled in her eyes, but she quickly blinked them away. “Josh… they didn’t hurt me. They made me better.”
He pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly against him. For the first time in what felt like forever, Demi allowed herself to relax into his embrace, feeling a flicker of love amidst the chaos that surrounded them. But then she spoiled it by asking..
“Are you falling in love with me?”
Joshua’s silence pressed heavy on the air. Demi stared at him, waiting for an answer, her heart pounding in her chest. Finally, he spoke, his voice quiet but unyielding.
“This isn’t about me, Demi. It’s about my role. About what I agreed to in this dynamic.”
His words felt like a punch to her gut. She blinked, her mind racing as frustration and disbelief bubbled up. “Your role?” she echoed, her tone sharp.
Joshua nodded, his gaze avoiding hers. “I’m here to take care of you, to meet your needs. That’s it. That’s my responsibility.”
It was like the more he kept talking about the dynamic, the more she started to see herself.. as a toy and not in a relationship with each man as they painted for her. She crossed her arms, her jaw tightening. “So that’s all I am to you? A responsibility?”
His jaw clenched, his voice faltering slightly. “It’s not like that, Demi. You know it’s not. This dynamic—it’s supposed to be about you, not me.”
She let out a bitter laugh, her hands balling into fists. “That’s bullshit, Josh. You’re hiding behind this whole ‘role’ thing so you don’t have to face what you’re feeling. You’re just as trapped in this as I am. Did you not say I would have a relationship with you?”
For a moment, his face softened, guilt flashing in his eyes. But he quickly masked it, shaking his head. “I did say but even if I do feel something, it doesn’t matter. What matters is you. What you need. That’s my focus, and that’s not going to change.”
Demi’s chest tightened, her emotions swirling—hurt, anger, sadness, all blending together into something almost unbearable. She felt like she was suffocating in his excuses. “You don’t get it, do you? You’re not helping me by pretending you’re some kind of saint. You’re just dragging me down with you.”
Joshua’s shoulders slumped, and for a moment, she saw the vulnerability he was trying so hard to hide. But it wasn’t enough. Not this time.
She shook her head and slid out of the bed, her body aching with every movement. “Demi, wait—” Joshua started, his voice tinged with desperation.
“No,” she said sharply, grabbing her clothes. “I’m done with this conversation. I just can't believe it took me not having sex with you to see that this really is just one big fucking game.”
She dressed quickly, her movements sharp and purposeful. Joshua sat frozen, his hands gripping the edge of the bed as he watched her, helpless.
“Don’t go, Demi..” he said softly, his voice almost breaking.
Demi didn’t respond. She put on her shoes, her face set in stone, and walked toward the door.
As she opened it and stepped out into the suite’s living room, she froze for a moment. Joe, Jonathan, and Joseph were seated there, their eyes immediately locking onto her.
Joe’s sharp gaze scanned her, a flicker of amusement crossing his face. Jonathan straightened in his seat, concern etched into his features, while Joseph’s expression remained neutral but observant.
Jonathan was the first to speak. “Demi? Where are you going?”
"Fuck all four of you." Her eyes flicked over the three men briefly before she turned her gaze forward and kept walking, her footsteps purposeful and loud in the quiet room.
“Demi,” Jonathan called out again, his voice firmer this time.
Still, she ignored him. She reached the door to the suite, her hand hovering on the handle as she felt their eyes boring into her back. For a moment, she hesitated, anger and frustration colliding with the nagging thought that there was nowhere else to go.
But she shook it off. Without looking back, she opened the door and stepped out, letting it close behind her with a decisive click.
Inside the suite, the tension was horrible. Joshua buried his face in his hands, his shoulders trembling slightly. Jonathan stood abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor.
“What the fuck just happened?” Jonathan demanded, his voice low but sharp as he turned to Joshua.
Joe leaned back in his chair, a dark smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “What happened?” he repeated mockingly. “Reality happened.”
Jonathan shot him a glare. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”
Joe raised an eyebrow, his smirk deepening. “Of course. You don’t get results without a little chaos, Jon.”
Jonathan shook his head, pacing the room. “She’s not being punished anymore.”
"Yeah, Joe that is not fucking cool." Joseph added.
Joe’s expression hardened, his playful demeanor vanishing and shooting a glance at Joseph. “Well go fucking take care of it then."
Demi sat at the corner of the hotel buffet, her back turned slightly from the rest of the bustling room. The clink of plates, the chatter of early risers—none of it could touch her as she pushed her food around absentmindedly. A plate of waffles sat in front of her, untouched, as she sipped on her coffee, staring blankly ahead. The world outside her little corner seemed to spin with noise and movement, but inside, it was just her, feeling the coldness of the situation seep through.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket, but she didn’t even bother to check. She had already become too accustomed to the endless stream of messages that offered little comfort. The vibration was a reminder of all the unanswered questions, the unsaid things, and the broken promises that seemed to haunt her every step.
“You know,” a voice broke through her thoughts. “I figured you for a bagel person instead of waffles.”
Demi looked up slowly, her eyes not meeting the gaze of the person standing in front of her. It was Joseph, standing there with a faint smile on his lips, but it didn’t reach her. She simply returned her focus to the plate in front of her, not acknowledging him. Her body felt heavy with exhaustion, and she didn’t have the energy to pretend things were okay.
Joseph, not deterred, sat down across from her, a small sigh escaping his lips. “What’s on your mind?”
Demi didn’t lift her head. She pushed a fork through the waffles, lost in thought, her mind a swirl of confusion and hurt. “Are you even going to listen?” Her words came out sharp, as though she were daring him to say no.
Joseph paused, clearly taken aback by her directness, but he shrugged it off, trying to mask the slight sting. “Of course I will,” he said softly. “I’m asking because I care, Demi. You can tell me whatever’s going on in that head of yours.”
She didn’t say anything for a moment, her eyes scanning the room in silence, as if searching for the right words. Finally, she spoke, the truth tumbling out in a low voice. “I just don’t think anybody should get hurt in this dynamic.” She looked at her hands, her fingers trembling slightly as she gripped the edge of her mug. “And I don’t even know how this shit came to play… I thought my punishment was suppose to help me but now I don’t even think it did any good.”
Joseph was silent for a moment, letting her words sink in. He knew what she was talking about—the dynamic, the one that had shifted everything in her life. He was part of it, in a way that made him uncomfortable, but he also understood its intricacies more than she did.
“I know,” he said quietly. “I know it’s been a lot for you. But if you want to understand, I can explain how it all started. How it came to this point.” His voice was steady, but there was an edge to it, something like a lingering guilt he hadn’t quite faced yet.
Demi raised her eyes to meet his, her curiosity piqued for the first time in what felt like days. She nodded slowly, as if willing herself to listen. “Go for it,” she said, her voice void of any real emotion.
Joseph leaned back slightly, folding his arms over his chest as he began. “You see, we were the only ones who knew about your relationship with Joe.” He paused, watching her for any reaction, but Demi just stared at him, waiting. “When he would talk about you—when he would mention your name—it was like he was talking about an angel. He held you in such high regard, Demi. He loved you, respected you… I could tell.”
Demi blinked slowly, processing his words. She didn’t know what she was supposed to feel, whether it was a comfort or a burden. Still, she couldn’t deny the truth in his words.
“That’s nice and all,” she finally said, her voice bitter. “But how does it go from that to me being shared?” The words tasted foreign in her mouth, each syllable more difficult to say than the last. “How does it go from him loving me to this—this… dynamic?”
Joseph’s gaze softened, his face filling with a sadness that seemed to haunt him. “It’s not what you think, Demi,” he said, his tone growing more serious. “It wasn’t about him wanting to hurt you. It was about control, about the power we all share. We were in a place where we knew we could trust each other with things no one else could understand. Joe… Joe thought it would be something that could bring us closer, something that would make us stronger.”
“Stronger?” Demi repeated, her voice flat. “Stronger? How does this make me stronger, Joseph? I’m just a piece in a game, aren’t I? You’re all treating me like some kind of… of property to be shared and in order to make me not see myself as property, you guys are all saying I could have relationships with you all. You want to talk about power? What about my power? What about my choice in all of this?”
Joseph’s face fell, the frustration and sadness melding into a painful mixture. “You have always had a choice, Demi. It’s not like that. None of this was meant to make you feel like you weren’t part of it, like you weren’t in control of your own choices. But—”
“But nothing,” Demi interrupted, her voice sharp now. “This isn’t about ‘us’ anymore, is it? It’s about control. Power. It’s about what Joe wanted, what you all wanted, and none of you thought about how I would feel when I experienced punishment for going on a dinner date?” Her chest tightened with the words she hadn’t let herself say until now. “I don’t know who I am anymore now. I don’t know what I’m supposed to want, what I’m supposed to feel now.”
Joseph didn��t have an answer to that. He just stared at her, the weight of his silence speaking volumes.
Demi pushed her plate away with a force that startled them both. “You know what? I’m fucking done. I can’t keep doing this. I don’t know how to fit into this… this thing you all have. And I don’t want to. I want out.”
Joseph didn’t respond immediately. He didn’t know how to fix this, or if it was fixable at all. But there was one thing he knew for sure: he couldn’t lose her—not like this.
“Demi,” he finally said, his voice quieter now, full of regret. “Please. Let me explain more. Let me—”
But Demi was already standing, turning away from the table, her decision made. She didn’t want explanations anymore. She didn’t want to hear about control, or power, or any of it.
“I don’t need any more explanations, Solo,” she said, her voice steady but cold. “Fuck you, Fuck Jimmy, Fuck Jey and most importantly... FUCK ROMAN FUCKING REIGNS.”
And with that, she walked away.
THREE MONTHS LATER
March 7th, 2025 4:32 PM
Demi’s fingers ran along the edge of her desk as the late afternoon light filtered through the blinds of her office. She was finishing up for the day, packing her purse with the usual haste of someone who had long ago grown accustomed to the routine. She had been here for hours, but now, the quiet hum of the office, the soft ticking of the clock on the wall, felt more like a distant memory than the reality she’d once thrived in.
There was a knock at the door, and without needing to look up, Demi knew who it was.
Bruce Prichard, her boss, entered with his usual smile, a sense of pride radiating from him. “I just want to say, Demi, you’ve done an amazing job with everything. Truly. I couldn’t be more proud of how you’ve handled this Elevated Bloodline storyline. Everyone’s buzzing about it. The record breaking viewers are there, and it’s all thanks to you.”
Demi smiled, but it was fleeting—just enough to acknowledge his words, not enough to hide the exhaustion in her eyes. “Thank you, Bruce,” she said, her voice polite, but distant. She stood up and grabbed her bag from the desk, ready to head out. “I’ll see you the following Monday.”
Bruce nodded. “Enjoy your extended vacation,” he said before heading out of the office, leaving Demi alone in the silence.
As the door clicked shut behind him, Demi took a moment to breathe, taking in the weight of her success. Everyone had noticed—her work was being praised, and the ratings were higher than they’d ever been. But it didn’t bring the peace she’d hoped for. She turned off the lights in her office, grabbed her things, and walked out, making her way to the garage.
The drive back to her home in Stamford was almost robotic now. The roads blurred as her Jeep hummed along, the familiar scenery slipping past her windows. The house she had chosen was in a quiet, forested area—a small two-bedroom retreat just far enough from the chaos of work to feel like a world apart. The drive took her thirty-eight minutes exactly, and she was used to the solitude. It was something she needed.
When she finally arrived, she let herself inside and set her bag down. The house was just as she liked it—cozy, comfortable, and far removed from the noise of the outside world. She tossed her keys on the counter and walked over to the couch, letting herself sink into the cushions.
The silence in the room was deafening, but it wasn’t the kind of silence that brought peace. It was the kind that reminded her of everything she’d been avoiding.
Her eyes fell to her ankle, where the anklet glinted softly in the dim light. The ‘J’ stood out, gleaming with diamonds—reminder of the world she had tried to leave behind. Despite everything, she hadn’t taken it off. She hadn’t even been able to bring herself to remove the necklace that Jonathan had given her, the one she had started wearing every day, even to bed.
She had tried to move on, to separate herself from that world, but the pieces were still there. She was still tethered to them.
Her thumb traced the small letter on the anklet, and for a moment, everything came flooding back. The choices she had made, the emotions she’d buried deep inside her. The pain she had tried to outrun. And no matter how much she pretended, no matter how much she distanced herself, the truth was clear: she couldn’t truly escape what they had created.
The past three months had been a blur of work, long nights, and distractions, but in the quiet moments—like now, sitting alone on her couch—there was no denying that she was haunted by the shadows of what had once been.
Her relationship with Joe, the dynamic she had never fully understood, the choices that had felt so final—yet still, the reminders were all around her, silent and unyielding.
Demi leaned back against the couch, her eyes closing as she tried to clear her mind. She had built an empire in the world of WWE, a world where she held creative power and influence. But when the lights dimmed and the audience was gone, she was left with the ache of everything she had lost, and the gnawing realization that she was still tied to it all.
The phone buzzed again, the familiar vibration breaking her thoughts. She didn’t even look at it this time. It wasn’t a message she was ready to read. Not yet.
With a heavy sigh, Demi stood up and walked to the window, looking out into the vast expanse of the forest that surrounded her. It was a peaceful sight, yet it only made the emptiness within her more apparent. There was no escape from the choices she had made, and the people who had once been so close to her now seemed like distant memories.
She let the silence fill her, her gaze fixed on the trees, as she wondered if she would ever find a way to truly leave it all behind.
— 7:56 PM
Demi stood frozen in her small kitchen, the soft glow of her overhead light casting shadows across the room as she took a slow sip of her wine. The smooth taste did little to erase the gnawing feeling inside her, the constant churn of confusion and regret that had been her constant companion for the past three months. She had cooked herself a simple dinner, chicken Alfredo, just something to fill the silence that always seemed so loud. But it wasn’t enough. Nothing was enough.
As she twirled her fork, her phone buzzed, but she ignored it, too tired to entertain whatever message was waiting for her. But as she chewed the next bite, she heard a knock at the door. A soft, firm knock. It echoed through the quiet of her house like a sharp reminder of the outside world, a world she had worked so hard to shut out.
Demi’s heart skipped a beat, her eyes narrowing. She hadn’t been expecting anyone—especially not anyone who knew where she lived. To get to her home, you had to travel down a long, winding path, only accessible by gate code. There was no one who had that code.
Her pulse quickened. She set her fork down and grabbed a knife from the counter, holding it loosely at first but feeling its weight grow as the knock came again, more urgent this time. Her breath hitched in her chest.
She quietly moved toward the door, stepping carefully so her footsteps wouldn’t give her away. She peered through the peephole, her breath catching in her throat when she saw who was standing outside.
Joshua.
Her grip tightened on the knife, her mind racing. What the hell was he doing here? Her thoughts spun as she silently cursed herself. How did he even get here? How did he know where she was?
Slowly, she opened the door, her heart pounding in her chest. “What are you doing here?” she asked, her voice cold and steady despite the shock that surged through her.
Joshua didn’t respond immediately, just looked at her with an expression that mixed determination with something else—something she couldn’t quite place. “Can I come in?” His voice was soft, but it held the weight of expectation.
Demi stepped back, not allowing him to pass. She closed the door behind her, the cold barrier between them solidifying her resolve. She wasn’t going to let him in, not after everything. Not after the way things had fallen apart. The way Jonathan had punished her, the memories of that day flooding back to her, tainting the apartment she’d worked so hard to make her own. She couldn’t let them ruin it again.
She crossed her arms, narrowing her eyes at him, making sure her knife was still visible. “How did you even get here?” Her voice was harsh now, the fear and anger bubbling to the surface.
Joshua sighed, running a hand through his hair. “It’s gonna sound stalker-ish,” he began, his words slow, almost regretful, “but I followed you.”
Her grip on the knife tightened again, and her jaw clenched. “Why the fuck would you do something like that?” Her voice cracked with frustration and something darker, the hurt she hadn’t let herself feel until now pouring out in a rush.
Before Joshua could respond, a voice from behind him cut through the tension like a blade.
“We need you back with us.”
Demi’s eyes flicked past Joshua, her stomach turning as she saw the others standing there. Jonathan was leaning against her car, a smug expression on his face. Joe and Joseph stood next to him, their eyes locked onto her with an intensity that made her stomach churn.
The four men—the ones who had consumed her life, torn her apart in ways she wasn’t ready to admit—were now here. In her sanctuary. In her home. The place she had built to escape them.
Her hands clenched at her sides, her grip still tight on the knife, her chest tightening with a mix of fear and fury. She wanted to scream. She wanted to shut them all out, to lock herself away forever. But she couldn’t. Not when Joe was already stepping forward, his presence imposing and unyielding.
He took the knife from her slowly, gently, his eyes never leaving hers as he set it down on the little porch table she had just outside the door.
“Demi,” Joe said softly, almost pleading. “Let us talk for just a moment.” His voice held a quiet command, but there was an undercurrent of something else—something that made her feel small and exposed.
Demi stood there, frozen for a moment. She felt the weight of the situation, the heaviness of the air pressing down on her chest. Why had they come? Why now?
She wanted to resist. She wanted to push them away, to tell them to leave her the hell alone. But the pull of their presence was too strong. The tug of the past, of everything she’d tried to outrun, was too much.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Demi stepped aside, her face unreadable. “Fine.”
The four men filed into her home, each of them taking a seat on her couch, while she sat across from them on the love seat, her body tense, her mind racing.
For a moment, no one spoke. The silence was suffocating, thick with unspoken words and emotions that hung in the air like a heavy fog. Demi’s eyes flicked between them, trying to gauge their intentions, but they were unreadable. All of them.
She didn’t know what they wanted, but she knew for once that she did have a choice in what she wanted.
Demi adjusted her position on the love seat, her legs crossed tightly, a wall of defiance radiating from her. The space between them felt more like an ocean, a gulf that had widened between them and her since everything changed, yet they still sat there, expecting her to understand—expecting her to fall back into their twisted world.
Joe’s smirk was almost smug as he leaned back on the couch, his eyes never leaving her. It was maddening. It felt as though every inch of him was trying to dominate the air around her, trying to break through her defenses.
“What’s with the smirk?” Demi snapped, her voice sharp, a challenge.
Joe’s eyes flickered to the anklet that glimmered around her ankle, and his smirk only grew. “You still have the anklet,” he said, his tone filled with an odd mix of amusement and something else—something darker.
Joe’s gaze dropped to her ankle instinctively. The diamond ‘J’ caught the light and glistened.
Her eyes snapped back to Joe. “You’re proud of that, aren’t you?” she shot back, voice laced with disgust.
Jonathan, sitting silently to the side, couldn’t hold back any longer. He leaned forward, his voice low but intense. “She still has my necklace too.”
Demi’s breath caught. Her hands trembled slightly, and she shoved the feelings down deep. Her lips pressed together tightly before she spat out, “You want it back? Fine.”
Without hesitation, she started to pull the necklace off, her fingers fumbling with the clasp, but before she could slip it completely over her head, Joe’s voice cut through the air like a whip.
“No, don’t.” His tone softened, almost pleading. “Demi, please, just listen to us.”
She froze, the necklace still halfway over her head. His voice, always so calm, always so commanding, made her pulse quicken in frustration.
Joe leaned forward, his eyes intent on hers. “We all want to be with you. The way you would submit… it’s something none of us have ever experienced before. It made us realize that we don’t want anyone else in your life. We want to be the only men you will ever need.”
Demi’s breath caught in her throat. She hadn’t expected this—hadn’t expected him to speak so directly. It felt like a slap in the face, but it also stirred something deep within her. How had it all gotten so complicated? How had they turned everything so… twisted?
“Why?” she managed to ask, her voice shaky, as the weight of it all threatened to crush her. “Why the hell would you want that? Want me like that?”
Joe leaned back, his eyes dark with something she couldn’t quite place. “Because it’s what we want. Because it’s what you need. You know it too, Demi. You know that you’re different with us. It’s like nothing else.”
The words stung her. She had always prided herself on being her own person, on not needing anyone. But now, these men were challenging everything she knew, everything she had built within herself. It felt suffocating.
Demi stood abruptly, pacing across the small room, her mind racing. “I’m not your fucking property!” she shouted, her voice rising in anger and confusion. “I never signed up for this!”
Joe’s face hardened, his jaw tightening, but he remained calm, controlled. “Demi, we’re not asking for ownership. We’re asking for something deeper. We need you… and we know you need us too. Don’t lie to yourself.”
Demi stopped, the weight of his words bearing down on her. The truth was, she didn’t know what she needed anymore. Her feelings were tangled in a web she couldn’t escape from, each thread pulling her in different directions.
“You’re wrong,” she finally spat, her voice cold, shaking with emotion. “I don’t need you.”
The silence that followed was thick, suffocating. But Joe wasn’t backing down. He turned to Joshua, his gaze firm and commanding.
“Enough is enough,” Joe said, his voice low but final. “Joshua, go on. Do what you need to do.”
Before Demi could react, Joshua stood. She opened her mouth to protest, to push him away, but it was too late. He was already in front of her, and before she could gather her thoughts, his lips crashed onto hers. The kiss was hungry, desperate. His hands cupped her face, pulling her closer, as if he were trying to devour her.
Demi’s body stiffened, her mind screaming for her to pull away. But as his lips pressed against hers, something inside her cracked. The emotions she had buried came flooding to the surface. The warmth of his touch, the taste of him—it was too much. And for a fleeting moment, she gave in.
Her hands, unbidden, found their way to his chest, and she leaned into the kiss, letting the feelings consume her, pushing all the chaos aside.
Then, just as quickly as it began, Joshua pulled away, his breath ragged. Demi’s eyes flickered open, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she stared at him, her mind reeling. The world around her seemed to shift, the room spinning as conflicting emotions swirled inside her. She was more conflicted than ever. She sat back down, her thoughts.. swimming.
Joshua’s expression was torn, conflicted himself. “Demi…” he whispered, his voice filled with regret.
She didn’t know how to respond. She didn’t even know what she was feeling. She wanted to scream, to run, but she couldn’t move.
Joe broke the silence. “Come with us to Samoa tonight,” he said, his voice calm but carrying an undeniable authority. “If this week doesn’t change… if you still feel the same way, then we will be out of your life for good.”
Demi’s heart pounded in her chest. Samoa? What the hell was he talking about? She wanted to resist, wanted to refuse, but something about the way he said it—something about the finality in his voice—made her stop.
Her world felt like it was crashing down, and she knew she was standing at the edge of something far bigger than she could comprehend.
“Please, Demi,” Jonathan urged, his eyes softer now. “We’re asking you to take this step. To come with us. If it’s still wrong, if you still can’t do it, we’ll walk away. But we need to know, for all of us.”
The words lingered in the air, heavy, suffocating. And in that moment, Demi realized that whatever choice she made, nothing would ever be the same again.
Her hands trembled as she reached up to touch the necklace around her neck, her fingers tracing the cool metal, the symbol of everything that had been—and everything that might still be.
Jonathan leaned forward, his grin both playful and suggestive. “Demi,” he said, his voice teasing but laced with sincerity, “think of all the fun we could have. You practically gave us a week off—no stress, no matches, just… freedom. We’ve gotten raises, we’ve got time now to relax, and all we want is to spend that time with you.”
Her heart clenched at the casualness of his words. As if all the tension, all the chaos, could be swept away by simply “relaxing” together. She wanted to scoff, to dismiss his words outright, but she couldn’t deny the fluttering in her chest.
Joe, ever the steady presence, leaned forward from his place on the couch. His deep voice carried a calm authority that always managed to unnerve her. “Demi, we really wouldn’t be here if we didn’t all feel the same way. And let’s be honest—you would’ve never opened that door if you didn’t want to see us.”
Her lips parted to argue, but nothing came out. He was right, wasn’t he? No matter how much she wanted to deny it, some part of her had wanted to see them—wanted to confront them, hear what they had to say. Maybe she’d wanted closure. Or maybe… something else entirely.
Before she could form a response, Joshua stood and pulled something from his pocket, holding it out to her. It was a small boarding ticket. She took it with trembling fingers, her eyes scanning the details. A private flight to Samoa. Departing in four hours on a red-eye.
“Just think about it,” Joseph said as he stood. His voice was steady, gentle in a way that made it feel less like a demand and more like a suggestion.
Jon, Joshua and Joe stood, their imposing presence filling the small space of her living room. Joe lingered as the others moved toward the door, each offering her a small glance before stepping outside into the night.
Joe stayed behind, his broad shoulders casting a shadow against the dim light. He approached her, his movements slow, deliberate. Demi’s breath hitched as he knelt slightly, bringing his face level with hers.
“These three months…” he started, his voice low, raw with emotion, “I never stopped worrying about you. I never stopped loving you.”
His hand reached up to cup her face, his touch achingly familiar. His thumb brushed against her cheek, and she felt her resolve wavering. The intensity in his eyes held her captive, and she could see the depth of his feelings in the way he looked at her.
“You hurt me when you left, Demi,” he whispered, his words a quiet confession that cut through the tension. “But I’ll respect whatever choice you make. Just… think about it.”
For a moment, neither of them moved. His hand lingered on her cheek as if he didn’t want to let go. Then, with one last searching look, he made his way to the door.
The sound of it closing behind him was deafening in the silence that followed.
Demi sat there, her mind racing, the boarding pass still clutched tightly in her hand. The room felt suffocating now, the memories of their visit crowding in on her.
How could she even consider it? After everything they had put her through, after everything she had worked to rebuild in these last three months, how could she even entertain the idea of going back?
But then Joe’s words echoed in her mind, soft and full of pain. I never stopped loving you. You hurt me when you left.
Her fingers brushed against the necklace still around her neck, Jonathan’s token that she hadn’t been able to part with. Her eyes flickered down to the anklet, the ‘J’ catching the dim light and sparkling almost mockingly.
Demi sank back onto the loveseat, the boarding pass in her lap. The weight of her decision pressed down on her, and she knew that whatever choice she made tonight would change everything.
She glanced at the clock on the wall. Four hours. Four hours to decide whether to take the flight to Samoa or to close the door on the four men who had consumed her life for good.
Joe sat still, his eyes clouded with uncertainty as the departure time approached. Jonathan, Joseph, and Joshua had taken their seats. The silence that filled the cabin was thick with tension. Joe’s heart ached, a dull pain gnawing at him as he replayed the moments leading up to this flight.
“She didn’t come,” he muttered under his breath. He could still feel the sting of her decision to stay behind. She hadn’t been sure. Not yet. And despite all the ways he’d hoped for her to join them, he couldn’t force her.
Joseph, sitting across from him, leaned forward slightly, his gaze steady. “We gotta move on now?” he asked softly, though there was no malice in his tone—just resignation.
Joe took a long breath, letting it out slowly, his eyes flicking over to the seat that would have been hers. “There won’t be another submissive like her.” The words were heavy, filled with truth. He would never find another who had given herself so completely, so freely, to them.
Joseph’s voice was tinged with sadness. “Sadly, there won’t.”
A long silence followed as each man processed the weight of their unspoken thoughts. They had always known she was different. But that didn’t make this easier.
Just then, a voice from the front of the plane broke their quiet conversation.
“Ms. Bennett, I can take your bag. Would you like any refreshments?”
"No thank you."
The four men snapped their heads toward the front entrance, their attention immediately focused on the figure that had just entered.
Demi stood there, dressed casually in sweatpants, a hoodie, and her Vans. She handed her bag to the flight attendant. Her look was relaxed but the tension in the air charged as she made her way to the seat. She didn’t acknowledge anyone, didn’t look anyone in the eye. She simply moved toward the empty chair by Joe, sitting down with an air of finality.
Joe’s heart skipped a beat as she settled into the seat, the space between them shrinking but still heavy with the distance of unspoken words.
Demi’s eyes met Joe’s for a split second before she looked away, settling into her seat. “I haven’t forgiven you guys,” she said, her voice low but steady, carrying the weight of everything they had put her through. “I’m just figuring out what I want.”
Her honesty was sharp, but it was also the truth. The words landed heavily, and Joe couldn’t find an argument against them. They all knew they had pushed her too far, that they had asked for too much, too soon. They had to wait—wait for her to decide what she truly wanted.
The others said nothing, each of them silently acknowledging the same thing. They had no choice but to wait, to respect her process.
The plane began to taxi down the runway, the quiet hum of the engines signaling their departure. Demi reclined her seat, leaning back against the headrest, her eyes gazing out the window as the ground fell away beneath them.
The flight was long—fourteen hours of being trapped together in a confined space. Time would stretch on, giving them all more time to think, to reflect. The silence in the cabin settled over them like a heavy blanket.
Joe’s fingers twitched in the stillness. Slowly, tentatively, he reached out and placed his hand on top of hers. The warmth of his hand sent a ripple of tension through the air, but Demi didn’t pull away. She didn’t react at all, her face still blank.
He smiled softly, his heart heavy with hope and uncertainty. But Demi, ever the enigma, said nothing. She didn’t look at him. She just continued staring out the window, her mind no doubt a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions.
Joe knew the journey had just begun. This wasn’t about forcing anything—it wasn’t even about the past. This was about what they could be together, in the future.
Did she make the right choice?
Demi’s mind wandered as the plane ascended into the clouds, the city lights below fading into the distance. She didn’t know. She didn’t know anything anymore. What she did know was that she couldn’t deny the hold they had over her, the way they made her feel alive in a way no one else had.
But was that enough? Would it ever be enough?
As the plane leveled out, Demi let her eyes drift closed. She wasn’t sure if she had made the right choice, but at least for now, she was here. She couldn’t go back. And for the first time in a long time, she didn’t feel so alone.
Demi stirred at the soft nudge on her shoulder, her body still heavy with sleep. Slowly, she blinked her eyes open, her vision adjusting to the sunlight streaming through the small airplane window. Joe’s familiar face greeted her, his warm smile softening the grogginess that clung to her.
“Look,” he said gently, pointing out the window.
Demi turned her head, brushing her hair out of her face, and let out a small gasp. The sight outside was breathtaking. Samoa appeared like a tiny jewel in the vast expanse of ocean, surrounded by impossibly blue water that shimmered under the bright sunlight. The islands were lush and green, dotted with small buildings that looked like they belonged to a postcard.
“Wow,” she murmured, leaning closer to the glass. Her fingers pressed lightly against the window as if she could reach out and touch the scene before her. It was perfect—too perfect, almost as if she had stepped into a dream.
But then the realization hit her. She turned back to Joe, her eyebrows furrowing in disbelief. “Wait a second. You let me sleep for fourteen hours?”
Joe chuckled, the deep sound filling the quiet cabin. “Demi, we all slept. I just woke up about an hour ago.”
Her eyes narrowed slightly, skeptical of his answer. “Fourteen hours is a long time to let someone sleep,” she grumbled, though there was no real anger in her voice.
Joe simply grinned, clearly amused by her reaction. He gestured toward the other men, and Demi’s gaze followed his hand. Joshua, Jonathan, and Joseph were all still out cold, their heads tilted at odd angles as they reclined in their seats. Each of them wore an eye mask, blocking out the morning sunlight streaming into the cabin.
Demi couldn’t help but smirk at the sight. It was rare to see them so unguarded, so completely at ease. “They look ridiculous,” she whispered, trying not to disturb the quiet atmosphere.
Joe leaned closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial tone. “You should’ve seen Jon drooling earlier. I almost took a picture.”
Demi stifled a laugh, shaking her head as she returned her attention to the view outside. The plane began to descend, and the closer they got to the island, the more vivid everything became. She could see the coral reefs beneath the water, the sandy beaches, and the swaying palm trees that lined the shoreline.
“It’s beautiful,” she said softly, her voice almost reverent.
Joe’s expression softened as he watched her take it all in. “It is,” he agreed. “It’s our.. real home.”
Demi glanced at him briefly, noting the way his face lit up as he spoke. There was a deep pride in his voice, a connection to this place that she could feel even in his simple words.
The plane finally touched down on the runway, the tires skimming the ground with a light bump. The jolt woke the others, and one by one, they removed their eye masks and stretched, grumbling about the sudden interruption to their sleep.
“Are we there?” Jonathan mumbled, his voice thick with sleep.
“We’re here,” Joe confirmed, already unbuckling his seatbelt.
As they disembarked from the plane, the humid, tropical air hit Demi like a wave, wrapping around her like a warm blanket. She followed the others down the steps and onto the tarmac, her sneakers crunching lightly against the ground.
Looking around, she saw the vibrant colors of the island come to life. The trees were greener than anything she had ever seen, the flowers bright and fragrant. The ocean sparkled in the distance, its waves lapping gently against the shore.
Joshua stretched his arms over his head, letting out a satisfied sigh. “Man, it feels good to be here..”
“No place like it,” Joseph added, slinging a bag over his shoulder as they began to make their way toward the awaiting car.
Demi lingered for a moment, taking it all in. She had come here searching for answers, uncertain about the decision she had made. But as she stood there, surrounded by the beauty of the island and the quiet presence of the men who had brought her here, she felt a small flicker of warmth.
Maybe, just maybe, she had made the right choice after all.
An awaiting driver in an SUV waited for the five of them as they approached it. The driver packed their bags in the back, and Demi climbed in, sitting in between Joshua and Jonathan. Joshua smiled at her, and Demi couldn’t help but let out a small smile. The SUV took off, weaving through the city streets of Pago Pago before eventually leaving the bustling town behind for more serene surroundings.
As the vehicle hugged the coastline, Demi stared out the window, watching the turquoise waters glisten under the sun. Palm trees swayed lazily in the breeze, and the distant sounds of waves crashing brought a sense of calm she hadn’t felt in months.
Eventually, the SUV turned onto a private drive, pulling up to a secluded beach house nestled between lush greenery and the shoreline. The house was stunning—an elegant yet understated combination of traditional Samoan craftsmanship and modern luxury. Its wooden facade and large windows blended seamlessly with the natural environment.
Demi couldn’t hide her surprise. “This is the beach house in the contract?” she asked, her tone skeptical but intrigued.
Joe stepped out of the SUV first, turning back to grin at her. “Oh yeah,” he said confidently, gesturing for her to follow.
The driver began unloading their bags as the group climbed out. Jonathan stretched and let out a satisfied sigh. “Man, it’s always better in person,” he said, looking up at the house.
Joseph added, “Everything just got renovated.. I can’t wait to see the new rooms..”
Joshua brushed past Demi with a small chuckle. “Looks like we’re all sharing this slice of paradise for the next few days...”
Demi folded her arms, glancing at each of them in turn. “And what exactly am I supposed to do here?”
Joe turned to her, his expression softening. “Relax. Just take it in. That’s all we want from you..”
Demi narrowed her eyes at him but said nothing as she followed the group inside.
The interior of the renovated beach house was just as breathtaking as the exterior. High vaulted ceilings, open spaces, and floor-to-ceiling windows offered an uninterrupted view of the ocean. The soft, neutral tones of the decor complemented the vibrant colors of the surrounding nature. Demi couldn’t deny how beautiful it was, but she kept her emotions in check, not wanting to let her guard down too soon.
Jonathan clapped his hands together, breaking the silence. “Alright, I’m calling dibs on the room with the balcony!”
Joseph smirked. “Not if I get there first.”
As the brothers bantered, Joe stepped closer to Demi, lowering his voice so only she could hear. “Your room has its own private deck. You’ll like it.”
Demi glanced at him, unsure of how to respond. Instead, she simply nodded and followed him down the hallway as he led her to her room.
When Joe opened the door, Demi stepped inside and took in the space. The room was spacious yet cozy, with a king-sized bed draped in crisp white linens. A sliding glass door led out to a small deck overlooking the ocean. The sound of the waves was louder here, more immediate, and it filled the space like a soothing melody.
Joe lingered in the doorway, watching her as she set her bag down by the bed. “If you need anything, just let me know,” he said softly.
Demi didn’t look at him, her focus on the view outside. “I’ll be fine,” she said curtly.
Joe hesitated for a moment before nodding. “Alright. We’ll be out on the main deck when you’re ready.”
He closed the door behind him, leaving Demi alone.
For a long moment, she stood still, staring out at the ocean. The calmness of the setting was at odds with the turmoil still churning inside her. She sighed deeply and sat down on the edge of the bed, her fingers brushing against the anklet around her ankle. It caught the sunlight streaming in through the window, the small “J” charm gleaming back at her.
“Why am I here?” she whispered to herself, her voice barely audible over the sound of the waves.
Demi sat on the bed, staring out at the expansive ocean view from the balcony, the setting sun casting golden hues across the water. She had been in the room for hours, torn between the pull to join the men on the main deck and the desire to stay hidden away from them. The silence was deafening, and the tension in her chest only grew stronger. She wanted to be free from the pressure, free from the weight of the choices she had made, but the men’s voices drifting through the door reminded her that she could never escape them completely.
The laughter outside felt distant, almost mocking, and yet she felt a strange longing. They were all still out there—Joe, Jonathan, Joseph, Joshua—acting as though nothing had changed. As though everything could return to the way it was before, but Demi knew better. Things had shifted. Her own feelings, too, had shifted. She wasn’t sure if she was ready to face them, or to face herself.
Finally, unable to bear the stillness any longer, she moved to close the curtains, blocking out the view of the setting sun. She sat back on the bed, the silence once again settling around her, but this time it felt different. It felt heavier, suffocating almost.
Just as she was about to settle into her thoughts again, there was a soft knock on the door. Her head snapped up in surprise. “Come in,” she said, her voice softer than she intended.
The door creaked open, and Joshua stepped inside. His presence filled the room, though he kept a distance, standing by the door for a moment as if unsure of what to say. The two of them hadn’t spoken since that fateful day three months ago when Demi had decided to leave, cutting ties with the men who once consumed her life.
Demi watched him, her eyes narrowing slightly. “What do you want, Joshua?” she asked, her tone sharp but curious.
Joshua let out a small breath, pushing away from the door and moving closer but stopping short of sitting next to her. “I figured I should check on you,” he said quietly. “You’ve been holed up in here for hours. You okay?”
Demi’s arms instinctively crossed over her chest, a barrier of sorts, as she met his gaze. She wasn’t sure how to respond. She wasn’t sure she wanted to respond. “I’m fine,” she said, her voice lacking the conviction she wished she could project.
Joshua didn’t buy it. “You don’t seem fine,” he said, his voice softer now, almost tentative. He hesitated, glancing toward the door as though considering whether he should stay or leave. But he lingered, his eyes locked on hers, and that’s when Demi realized he wasn’t going anywhere until he got some kind of answer. He took a seat next to her.
“I just need some space,” Demi muttered, her gaze falling to the floor.
Joshua moved a little closer, his voice lowering. “We’re all here, Demi. We’re not going anywhere either.” He paused, waiting for her to say something. When she didn’t, he sighed, shaking his head slightly. “We all care about you. You know that, right?”
Demi glanced up, her eyes flicking over him, but she didn’t respond. There was too much unsaid between them, too much history that they hadn’t resolved. The last thing she wanted was to dive into it now, not when her mind was already a mess of conflicting emotions.
Joshua tried again. “Just think about it. All we want is for you to be happy, Demi. No pressure.” His voice was steady, but there was a sadness behind it, something she hadn’t expected to see.
Joshua stayed seated on the bed, watching Demi with a mix of longing and uncertainty in his eyes. He’d been careful to give her space, but there was no denying the connection between them that hadn’t faded in the months apart. He took a deep breath before speaking again, his voice quieter this time.
“You know I still care about you very deeply, Demi,” he said, his eyes fixed on hers. There was a vulnerability in his tone that was hard to ignore.
Demi nodded slowly, her own emotions tangled up inside her. She wasn’t sure if she was ready to say anything, but the truth of his words resonated in her. She could feel his sincerity, the weight of everything they had shared before. It was more than just the bond they once had—it was the undeniable presence of something that couldn’t be easily dismissed.
Joshua reached out, gently placing his hand on hers. Demi didn’t pull away this time. She let the warmth of his touch linger, feeling something stir inside her that she had tried to bury. He looked down at their hands, as if gathering the courage to ask her something he’d been holding onto.
“Can I kiss you again?” he asked, his voice quiet, almost hesitant.
Demi’s breath hitched at his words. She hadn’t expected it, but at the same time, she couldn’t bring herself to refuse. She nodded, a small but significant movement, and the moment seemed to freeze around them. Joshua leaned in, his lips brushing hers softly, tenderly, as if he was testing the waters again. The kiss was gentle, filled with hesitation, yet it spoke volumes of the connection between them.
When they finally pulled apart, Demi felt her heart race, her breath shallow. She sat back a little, her thoughts swirling in a haze. “I’ll get ready,” she said, her voice a little unsteady, as if the weight of the moment was sinking in.
Joshua smiled softly, sensing her need for space. “I’ll give you some privacy,” he said, standing up slowly. He lingered for a second, his eyes meeting hers one last time, before he turned and walked toward the door. “Take your time,” he added over his shoulder before closing the door gently behind him.
Demi sat on the bed, her mind racing. She wasn’t sure what had just happened, or what it meant for her. But one thing was clear—everything had changed.
and maybe.. just maybe.. Joshua was not so bad after all...
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allthatdivides · 2 years ago
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rayrard fic is so good and so special to me and there is so much love there but girl it is reminding me of my own crushing loneliness
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fastandcarlos · 6 days ago
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Wedding Nerves : ̗̀➛ Lando Norris
summary: it's the night before your wedding and lando can't bare to spend it all alone
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Your head shook as another knock at the door came, knowing exactly who was on the other side. You tried your best to ignore it as you unpacked your suitcase, but they were ever so persistent, knocking once again. 
“Lando, you shouldn’t be here,” you called out, walking over to the door. “You can stand there all night long but I’m not opening the door. The boys will all be wondering where you are.” 
“I don’t care abou them,” Lando replied, leaning against the other side of the door. “I just want to see you one last time before tomorrow, just a couple of minutes, that’s all that I’m asking for.” 
Your eyes closed as you leant on the door, hearing Lando sigh. His voice was desperate as he tapped on the door once again, letting you know that he was still there. You could only smile at how determined Lando was, refusing to go without seeing you. 
“You’ll get to see me forever after tomorrow,” you tried to assure him, “it’s only one night away from each other, we’ve done it hundreds of times before.” 
Lando’s head shook, “this time it’s different, it’s our wedding morning tomorrow.” 
“Why are you here Lando?” You groaned, beginning to think that there was more to things than he was letting on. “Something’s not gone wrong, has it?” 
His head shook, remembering that you couldn’t see him. “I spoke to George and he said Carmen told him that you were feeling nervous. I wanted to come and see you and make sure that you were alright, I don’t want you to be nervous, you should be excited.” 
“I am excited,” you responded, dropping down to the floor, “tomorrow is just such a big deal, and there’s so many people going to be there. I hate having all that attention on me, that’s all.” 
Lando remained where he was, only wanting to see you more now that he knew how you felt, keen to settle your nerves and reassure you not to worry. 
“Let me see you and just give you a hug,” Lando requested, tapping the door once again. “We’re fine to see each other, tradition is only tomorrow morning, not that either of us really care about that anyway.” 
The sound of the lock turning made Lando jump up, watching as you opened the door slightly. It was wide enough for Lando to see you, but not open enough for him to be able to reach in and hold onto you. 
“Lando, I promise you that I’m absolutely fine. Go and enjoy your evening.” 
“I can’t see well enough to be sure,” he grinned, refusing to give up quite that easily, trying to push the door to fit his hand through it. “What’s the point of just letting me see a bit of you, why not just open the door all the way?” 
“Because once you’re here I know you won’t go away,” you chuckled. 
Lando’s eyes widened at your assumption, shaking his head in reply to you. The smile on his face told you otherwise though, you knew exactly what he was up to, and once he was in, there was no way that he was going to be walking back out again. 
You tried your best to keep the door shut, but Lando was far stronger than you were, digging his heels into the ground and pushing the door open, stumbling over his feet and falling straight into your hotel room. 
“Serves you right,” you grinned, offering your hand to help him up.  
Lando stood himself up and straightened his clothes before heading in your direction. His arms wrapped around your frame as he tightly held you against his chest, pressing several kisses against the top of your head, refusing to let go now that he had a hold of you. 
Lando kicked the door to your hotel room shut, keeping you in his hold as he walked you both over to your bed, dropping down in the middle of it with you by his side, making himself comfortable like he was there for the night. 
After a few moments, Lando’s hand trailed along your back. “There’s no need to worry about tomorrow you know, it’s going to be perfect, I’m sure of it.” 
With all the efforts you and Lando had put in, you knew there was no reason to worry, there was no chance of anything going wrong. You had the perfect place, perfect theme, and everyone who you wanted to attend was doing so, there was nothing more you could ask for. 
“Maybe if you are nervous, it might be a good idea for me to stay here,” Lando added, catching your eyes roll. “I mean we both know how much it helps when you sleep next to me when you’re worrying, so it makes perfect sense, right?” 
“I’m not going to let you stay,” you said, quickly shutting Lando down. 
Lando hummed in reply to you, “we both know how this is going to work, I’m going to wear you down until you say yes, you know that, don’t you?” 
“Nope,” you laughed, “I refuse to cave tonight, you’ll be gone soon.” 
“You’ll have to get rid of me,” Lando told you, “and judging by your hand against my chest, I’d say that you’re pretty happy for me to stay a while still yet.” 
You quickly moved your hand off of Lando’s chest, shuffling across the bed to create some distance between you both. Lando looked at you in surprise, trying to move back towards you again, only for you to move back too. 
“It’s going to be a pretty rubbish stag do if you’re not there,” you reminded him, standing up from the bed. “Plus, you only said that you wanted a couple of minutes of my time.” 
“I don’t need a stupid stag do, not when I could spend my night with you instead,” Lando sighed, sitting up in the middle of the bed. “Do you really actually want me to go?” 
You tried to ignore the little voice in your head telling Lando to stay, nodding your head. You didn’t want him to miss out on his stag do, the party that he had been looking forward to for so long. 
“I should probably go,” Lando pouted, sliding off of the bed. His shoulders hung low, his feet dragging along the floor dejectedly. “But all you have to do is give me a call and I’ll forget all about the boys tonight and rush straight over here to be with you instead.” 
“Go on,” you grinned, opening up the door. “I’ll be alright without you for one night.” 
Lando stood in the doorway, turning back to face you one final time, letting you see just how disappointed he was that you were making him leave. 
“In five years, I think this is the first time you’ve declined to spend the night with me,” Lando mused, “and the night before my wedding too.” 
“I’m not declining to spend the night with you,” you protested, “this is what we agreed on, you’re going to be stuck with me for the rest of your life after tomorrow anyway.” 
“I can’t believe it,” Lando smiled, “the rest of our lives together.” 
“Only if you go,” you teased, pushing Lando out of the door. “Go and enjoy your evening, I’ll see you tomorrow Lando.” 
“I can’t wait to marry you sweetheart.” 
“I know, me too Lan.” 
˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗
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augustinewrites · 1 year ago
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dress + nanami
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“i bought you something.”
you frown slightly, eyeing the sleek box that nanami places on the bed.
“but i didn’t get you anything…”
he simply smiles, gently taking your hand and smoothing his thumb over the gold band adorning your ring finger. “allowing me to marry you this afternoon was the greatest gift you could ever give me.”
memories of your little ceremony still linger in the forefront of your mind. you’d married him atop a small rooftop garden filled with this season’s blooms, surrounded by your closest friends and family. you’d never been an extremely sentimental person, but the way he’d gazed at you and whispered vows meant for your ears and yours alone…you’d hold that close to your heart forever.
“no take backs, by the way,” you say when you feel tears prick at the back of your eyes once more. “you’re stuck with me, even though i snore.” 
“your snores are adorable. like a bunny holding a chainsaw.”
“hey!” you laugh, letting him wrap his arms around you from behind, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. 
“just let your husband spoil you, hm?”
nanami loves to spoil you. he’s always had such lovely taste, picking soft, pretty things that catch his eye in shop windows— a pair of leather gloves, a stylish sweater, a diamond bracelet. each gift is thoughtful, always complimenting you perfectly,
you lift the lid of the box, peeling back layers of tissue paper to reveal a delicate, silky white dress.
“kento…” you breathe, feeling his lips curl into a smile against your skin. gingerly, you lift the feather-light dress by dainty straps, taking in the cowl neck and tasteful high slit. 
simple, yet elegant, like him. 
“for you to wear to the reception,” he murmurs, pressing a light kiss to your shoulder. “do you like it?”
“i love it,” you tell him truthfully, turning to look at him. “help me put it on?” 
your husband couldn’t look more pleased, especially when deft fingers undo the back of your bespoke wedding gown and he sees what you’d snuck on underneath.
but nanami is nothing if not efficient, clearing his throat before helping you step out of your current dress and into your new one, the material gliding against your skin like butter.
“you’re a vision,” he whispers, brushing another kiss to the back of your neck. with heat in your cheeks, you turn in his embrace, bringing your lips up to his. 
the rest of the world begins to melt away, as it often does when you’re with him. but it’s different now. it’s different because in the eyes of the law, you’ve chosen him and he’s chosen you. 
so you share eager kisses in the warm lamplight of the hotel room, his hands gentle as they slide over the smooth material of your dress. 
and eventually, up the slit resting atop your thigh. his warm hands rest on your bare skin, setting off sparks of pleasure up your spine.
“we shouldn’t,” you breathe as he plants open mouthed kisses on the hollow of your throat. “we need to check on our guests— you know satoru gets weepy when he’s had more than one drink.” 
nanami pulls back to look at you, pupils blown with desire as he takes in your smeared lipstick and wide-eyed stare.
he responds by pulling you close with his grip on your hips, a groan slipping past your lips as he does so. 
“they can wait,” he tells you, walking you backwards until your knees buckle against the edge of the bed. “i’ve waited long enough to be alone with my wife.”
he’s waited for this moment even when he hadn’t realized he’d wanted this, wanted you. he’s wanted it since the days you’d shared at jujutsu tech, when he’d been a besotted schoolboy, pining after his classmate. 
nanami’s always been a patient man—
he yanks the skirt of your new dress up around your hips and kisses a trail down your chest.
— except when he’s not.
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bananayuyu · 2 months ago
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Lust is in the Air
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Pairing: Hongjoong x f reader
Genre: smut
Word count: 6.4k
Summary: Your best friend drags you along to a family wedding, wanting to add some fun to your all too serious life. Turns out her uncle is the one who really provides the distraction.
Warnings: smut, MDNI, age gap (Hongjoong is 40 reader is 23), some talk during sex about the age gap so really don't read this if you don't like that, some dom/sub dynamics, throat fucking, degradation and praise, bratty y/n, use of pet names (baby, doll), ass eating, anal, unprotected sex
A/n: Sometimes I see a random video of him and I'm reminded all over again how hot I think a very mature Hongjoong would be. Especially if he was mocking me and making me feel pathetic. Yeah this was pure horny, quite filthy for me. This isn't as proofread as my normal stuff so apologies for any mistakes
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Well, maybe it was a good idea. You had been staying in every weekend since the breakup, and maybe being forced out of the house would be good for you. Force you to interact with a few people, to actually put some effort into your appearance. Maybe put on a little makeup, or actually brush your hair.
"Please don't say no," Beatrice says through the phone. "My family would love it if you came, and I'd love it if you came. And we haven't had a chance to spend a weekend like this in forever. There will be free food and free booze!"
"I know you're worried about me, Bea," you respond, sighing.
"I'm not inviting you out of pity," she says.
"I know, I know. Just, give me some time to think it over. I've got an assignment I need to finish for one of my classes, I think it's due this Sunday night. So if I can't finish it this week I'll need to do it this weekend," you reply.
"Okay, just text me. I'm not gonna invite anyone else as my plus one, if you don't end up coming. So no rush, take your time," she says.
"Thank you. You know I appreciate you so much," you say, sighing into the cushion of your couch.
"You know I feel the same," she says, sighing too. You'd both been through breakups recently. It seemed like your hardships always occurred on nearly the same timeline, making you both able to rely on each other for understanding. And she knew getting you out of the house, especially for a weekend wedding, would be good for you. Her cousin's family was rich and hadn't held back in their planning, booking the fanciest hotel in town for everyone. They were paying for everything; the food and drinks of course, and everyone's hotel expenses. You'd knew you'd go. You'd try to finish the assignment beforehand. But even if you didn't, you'd still go.
Driving up to the front of the hotel together felt surreal. Beatrice had asked to take your car, as it wasn't the bright purple color that her's was. This place was fancy, and though neither of your cars were deluxe, at least your's was black.
"Miss McArthur?" the valet asked once you rolled your window down.
"Yeah, that's me," Beatrice said from the passenger seat, reaching over you to hand him her ID. "This is my plus one, y/n. She should be on the list."
After a brief look at his clipboard the man gave you both a satisfied nod. "Do you ladies have any bags we can carry up for you?" he asked.
"Yes, in the trunk," Beatrice answered for you, which you were grateful for. You'd never interacted with a valet before, never been in such a fancy situation in your life. You stumbled out of the car a bit awkwardly, your jean shorts and t-shirt looking ridiculous next to the suit and tie of the man in front of you. He held out his hand to you and for a moment you paused, wondering if he was offering to take your hand. But then you realized he was actually offering to take your keys. Duh.
"Thank you," you said quickly, heading around the car to meet Bea as you walked behind the man carrying your bags.
On the sixth floor you entered your shared room, a spacious and beautifully decorated space with a huge window covering the far wall. It was a sliding glass door, that led out to a balcony overlooking the river below. In the afternoon sun the water glittered, but you knew the view at night would be the real show, absolutely magical.
"Everyone is meeting in the restaurant at 7," Bea tells you, glancing at her family's group chat.
"Well then I've got a little over two hours to make myself look at least a little bit nice. Like maybe I actually belong here," you laugh, opening your bag to grab the casual dress you'd packed.
"Oh dinner tonight won't be fancy, wear whatever," Bea replies, kicking off her sandals.
"Okay but, with your cousins family not fancy would still probably be a little fancy, right?" you ask.
"You don't need to worry about fitting in, dude. No one will care," Bea replies.
"I just don't want to look like an idiot," you say, eyeing her.
"Y/n, you really need to stop worrying. This weekend is about us having fun. I'm not even that close with my cousin Amana, to be honest. We'll probably barely interact with her family. But we get to attend this fancy wedding, all expenses paid. Just wear whatever you feel like, do whatever you want to. Just promise me you'll have some fun," she says.
"Okay, fine," you respond, rolling your eyes jokingly. "I guess I'll try to enjoy this super nice luxury hotel for the weekend."
Bea laughs in relief, at hearing you joke around. It was what you both needed more of; you both had serious work and school lives already to contend with. And seriously disappointing dating lives, too.
As seven approaches you both make your way to the elevator, pausing at you exit the door to inspect the slight amount of makeup you'd put on. You hadn't worn any in weeks and it made you feel really pretty, along with the flowly sundress and sandals you'd decided to wear. You weren't always one for such feminine clothing but today it felt right, and you both bounced down the hall, spirits high. Bea led the way through the lobby to a long hallway, past what looked like a bar and some other room that had a bouncer, to the large restaurant at the end. Immediately you saw the long tables lined up, clearly set up for the wedding party. This wasn't the dress rehearsal, just the welcome dinner. It was only Friday, and the wedding wasn't until Sunday. Immediately you spotted the wine and appetizers filling the table, scanning the tables to try to find your seats.
"I can't find us Bea," you laugh, awkwardly walking past family members you'd never met before.
"Y/n, you're at our table," you hear a familiar female voice say, and turn to see Bea's mom.
"Oh, hi! Thank you!" you say as you walk over to her, giving her a quick hug.
"So glad you could join us sweetie," she says, gesturing to your seats. "See, you and Beatrice are near the end there, across from Nathan. Oh and have you met Beatrice's uncle Hongjoong before?" she asks, gesturing down the table.
You look down to see Beatrice sitting, pulling her chair under her and smiling wide. Across from her, in a casual but fitted grey t-shirt, a man smiles back, handing her a glass of wine he's just poured. He is striking, with jet black hair and tattoos, piercings donning his right ear. His jaw is sharp, his teeth perfect when he smiles. He looks maybe 27, 28. He's wearing an expensive watch, or at least a watch that looks expensive to your eyes, and a small simple chain necklace. His hair is cropped short at the sides; he looks so put together, so professional. So mature. So fucking attractive.
"That's Bea's uncle?" you ask her. It's not just his age that makes you ask. It's the fact that he's basically your dream come true. You see the muscles in his arm flex as he pours Nathan a glass too, and it makes your eyes cross for a moment.
"Well technically I think he's a second cousin, once removed, or something like that. He's a part of Wooyoung's family." Wooyoung was her husband, Bea's dad. You'd met her parents, and her brother Nathan, but never anyone else in her extended family. And you struggled to recall ever hearing about a Hongjoong before. You stared at him a moment before he moved his eyes over to you, catching you off guard. His look was mischievous, like he wants to play or mess with you. It made it hard to believe this was someone Bea called 'uncle.'
"Do you want to sit?" Bea's mom asked you.
"Yeah, sorry," you smiled at her, making you way down.
"Y/n! This is my uncle Hongjoong, and Hongjoong, this is y/n," Beatrice says as you pull out your seat next to her.
"Very nice to meet you," he says with an outstretched hand, his handshake strong and confident in a way that makes your body tingle.
"You as well," you reply, with a bashful smile. Immediately Bea asks you a question and you respond on auto-pilot, not even really hearing. Because your head is swimming in water just from being in this man's presence, and you can't focus. You don't even notice the glass of wine he'd poured you until he sets it down by your appetizer plate, gently bumping the stem on the rim of the plate to make a gentle clink. The sound makes your eyes snap up, and for some reason he looks amused.
"Oh, thank you," you say to him, bowing your head slightly. That mischievous smirk is back on his face when you lock eyes again, like he's trying to tell you something, but you can't be sure what it is. You certainly hope he's thinking what you're thinking. God, he's fucking stunning.
Those are the only words you speak to each other for the entirety of dinner. With so many people in attendance the restaurant is loud, louder still as everyone becomes tipsy, and then outright drunk on the unlimited wine.
"Hey, my parents want me a Nathan to go take pictures with them on the golf course nearby. They booked a photo shoot or something," Bea tells you, rolling her eyes slightly. "I'm not sure when we'll be back but feel free to like, go to the hot tub or do whatever around the hotel," she says.
"Okay, sounds good. Thank you, seriously," you say as you hug her. "I hope it's fun."
"Oh, I'm sure it will be," she laughs. "My parents and their family photos," she shakes her head, making you giggle, as she slowly makes her way to meet her brother at the front door of the restaurant.
You take stock of yourself for a moment, making sure you have your phone and your wallet in your purse, making sure your room key is still in your wallet. You take the last swig of your second glass of wine, patting yourself on the back for not overdoing it this first night when basically everyone around you did. You start sipping on your nearly empty glass of water too, knowing you don't want to wake up hungover tomorrow. The table is basically empty, with everyone slowly clearing out or making their last requests at the bar. You decide you'll go explore in a moment, go scope out the pool and hot tub situation, and maybe see if you can figure out what room is behind that bouncer. But just as you start standing up, Hongjoong approaches the table.
"I got some more waters for the table, but it looks like they've all left," he chuckles, his arms full.
"They went to do a family photo, Bea said," you reply, stuck for a moment awkwardly between sitting and standing. Hongjoong nods, like he already knew.
"Oh, were you about to leave too? Don't let me keep you," he says, the glint back in his eye again.
"I was thinking I'd go take a look at the pool and hot tub, maybe explore a bit," you say. It sort of takes you by surprise that you're sharing this with a total stranger, given your usual instinct to not share anything with people you don't know. You easily could have excused yourself, and been exploring the hotel alone. But deep down you know why you're sharing it. You hope he picks up on that reason, too.
"That's a great idea," he says, gently setting the waters down. "Mind if I join you? I was thinking of exploring the hotel some myself."
Bingo. You smile, eyes fluttering at him for a second. You truly don't even mean to do it, but the way he looks at you has you feeling shameless.
"Sure, I wouldn't mind," you reply, stepping out from your chair and gently pushing it into the table.
"Want to take a water with you?" he asks, holding one out.
"I don't think we can just take the glass with us," you reply, narrowing your eyes at him.
"Oh, who cares," he says glancing over his shoulder, seeing all of the wait staff occupied at the bar with everyone's last minute orders. "I'll carry it out, if you're that worried," he says, cocking his head slightly to the side and eyeing you with what must be mock pity.
"Fine," you roll your eyes at him, trying to fight the smile forming on your face from betraying how much his tone and facial expression are affecting you. You turn around and start strolling out of the restaurant, not even waiting for him. Once you're exiting he's already caught up, two water glasses in hand. You turn to your right, heading for the lobby.
"Wrong way, y/n," Hongjoong says lowly from behind you, making you stop in your tracks. "The pool is out those doors at the end of the hall."
"The sign in the lobby says the door to the pool is by the front desk," you reply, looking over your shoulder at him. The hallway is dimly lit, and the shadows on his face make his jaw look even sharper.
"Well that door also leads to the pool," he says, gesturing to the end of the hall. You just stare at him a moment, not sure why you feel the instinct to argue. "You don't believe me?" he asks, chuckling and looking you dead in the eye, before obviously snaking his gaze down the entirety of your body. Now that he's standing you see the fitted black pants and black dress shoes he's wearing, making his outfit look even more professional. His thighs look strong, and his stance is one of confidence, his entire demeanor cool and collected. You want to come up with a witty retort but can't think of anything, so you just start walking the way he's said to, again passing him by without slowing down to meet him. You open the doors gently but don't stop to hold them for him, brattiness taking ahold of you. Maybe it's the fancy hotel, or the wine, but you feel like a princess who deserves whatever she wants. And right now that's to piss Hongjoong off a bit, and see the pool.
"I thought nice girls hold doors open for the elderly," he says once he's exited too, sidling up to you. You stand by the long edge of the pool, taking in the lights below the surface that dance through the water. You turn to him and roll your eyes, taking the water glass he offers you immediately. "So, what do you do?" he asks.
"I'm still in school, I'm in my senior year," you say, turning back to the water. "And I work part time as an administrative assistant in the Dean's office, to help cover some of my tuition."
"College senior," he says, like he's mulling it over. "So that makes you how old?"
"Guess," you say, turning to him again, this time with your whole body.
"22," he replies. His voice low, like he's hesitant to say it.
"Close, 23," you say, not lowering your voice to meet his.
"And how old do you think I am?" he asks you, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Mmm, like, 38?" you joke, squinting your eyes as you look intently at his face. The feeling of wanting to piss him off still hadn't left you.
"How astute," he replies, nodding. "People usually think I'm younger."
"You're actually 38?" you ask, bewildered.
"Actually, 40," Hongjoong replies, making your eyebrows shoot up.
"You're lying," you say, rolling your eyes and shaking your head at him.
"Wow, second time tonight you've thought that. I don't know what I've done to make you think so poorly of me," he replies, that mischievous look again painting his face.
"Oh, shut up," you say, rolling your eyes harder this time, wanting to reach out and playfully punch him. Or maybe not so playfully. He's looking more and more perfect by the second, and his attitude, the way he's just so confident and calm, is making you hot and bothered. You know it maybe it's wrong, but now that you know his real age you find this whole scenario even hotter. If you were honest with yourself you'd always dreamed of fucking an older man, but the few you'd gone on dates with or had the chance to talk to had always been so immature, insecure, and underwhelming. Just like all the other guys you'd dated. It was a massive disappointment to learn that age didn't often give people that self-assured demeanor that you so desired. But clearly it did sometimes; the proof was standing in front of you.
"That wasn't very nice," Hongjoong replies, fixing you with a look of disapproval that makes your thighs clench involuntarily, as the two of you stare each other down merely feet apart. You hold his gaze as long as you can before you look down at your feet, his stoic demeanor feeling like a brick wall you can't break through.
"You're very pretty, y/n," he says, stepping forward to lift your face up to his.
"Really?" you ask him, eyes wide. Playing it just the way he likes.
"I know you know how pretty you are, you've been giving me those eyes all night," he says, looking like he disapproves. "You're a bit of brat, too, aren't you?" he asks, his hand moving to the side of your cheek.
"No comment," you giggle, and he grabs your hand, bringing it to his upper arm. You grab onto his bicep as he moves his hand to your waist pulling you two closer.
"Dance with me," he says, pulling you slightly into his chest.
"There isn't any music playing," you say, laughing. And it's the way that he doesn't just automatically laugh at your little comments that really gets you going.
"If I didn't know better, I'd think you didn't like me very much," he says seriously, pulling you in and starting to rock you back and forth. You dance together for a few minutes, no words being exchanged as your bodies get used to the proximity, as your mind begins to swim again, even more so now that his hands are on you. You want him to kiss you, do anything, now, but he keeps his hands where they are, still leading you around in slow circles. Fuck it, you think. You lift your hands to his face and pull him in, your lips meeting in a perfect kiss, his hand on your waist moving up your back as he holds you to him, leaning you back as he deepens it. You hold steadily onto his bicep for balance, your breathing fast as you stick your tongue in his mouth, not hiding your desperation. You don't care to, not when you've spent two months without this feeling, tortured over the idea that no one at your school would ever consider you an option after your last relationship ended the way it did.
And just when it seems like you're the only desperate one, Hongjoong moves his hands down, running them up your thighs and under your dress to find your panties. He finds none, much to his surprise, which makes his dick harden even further. He gropes your ass, deepening the kiss more, making you arch your back in neediness. And then he snakes his hand around, slowly moving to your core, before suddenly running a finger over your slit, making you gasp. You've forgotten where you are, totally engrossed in the feelings he's giving you. You buck your hips against his hand, moaning pathetically into his mouth, your legs feeling like they might give out on you. He starts circling your entrance, finally pushing one finger in maybe an inch, when you finally remember where you are.
"Wait, fuck, not out here," you say, pulling back from him. He pulls his hand away immediately, his fingers glistening in the lights of the night.
"You don't want everyone to see?" he asks, a smirk on his face.
"Not when the people paying for me to be here could see," you say. Your lips look swollen and wet from the kiss, and it makes him want to grab you again.
"You're the one who kissed me," he says, his voice low. And you know there's more he's implying, that you weren't just the one who kissed him but that you had rocked against his hand, had wanted his touch. That you'd kissed him desperately, making him unable to stop himself. The implication is inappropriate, the accusation he's laid on you not fair in the slightest. He has no way of knowing what you were trying to make him do, or what you wanted to happen. You hadn't said a word. And yet, he's totally right, making it hard for you to respond.
"That's-," you sigh, your pussy still throbbing from your proximity.
"My room is on the 7th floor," he says.
"Okay," you reply. It's all you can say. You stand completely still, stuck to the spot, waiting for him to move. Instead he puts his wet fingers in his mouth, sucking off your slick in one smooth motion, humming in satisfaction. Your mouth gapes at his lewdness, struck now by just how visible you both obviously are.
"Let's go," he says, motioning his head towards the door.
Your legs move automatically, your mind playing over and over the visual of him licking his fingers, the look of utter bliss on his face. As you walk the hallway he comes behind you, putting a hand on the small of your back, making your body melt into him slightly. It feels good but you gently remove his hand, not wanting anyone to see. You pray that neither Bea nor any of her family are in the lobby when you enter, and thankfully, your prayers are answered. Nor does anyone join you two on the elevator, which makes you willing to stand closer to Hongjoong than you would any other stranger. But still, you don't touch him. As you both exit you walk behind him, almost enough space between you that you could believably look like two total strangers, walking to separate rooms. Until he unlocks his door, holding it open as you slip inside, like you're really not supposed to be in here.
As soon as he closes the door he's pulled you to him, his back slamming into the wall as you nearly crash together, the air between you thick with lust.
"I'm almost twice as old as you, y/n," he whispers in your ear, feeling your pussy clench against his thigh that you're straddling, your mouth on his neck. "You like that," he states, not even asking you anymore. "You like that I'm way too old for you. Too old to be touching you like this."
It's wrong, so wrong and you know it, but the further he pushes it the more you're surrendering to what's happening, to what your body truly craves.
"You've never been fucked right by those stupid boys at your college, have you? You need me to fuck you right, to show you how good you can feel. That's why you were bratty with me, you wanted me to be riled up. Want me to fuck you hard, like I'm mad. Like I'm punishing you," he growls, his breathing heavy as you bite down on his neck, sending sparks of pain and pleasure through his head. "Fuck, you really want me mad, don't you?" he asks and you whine in response, your whole body tingly with anticipation.
"Get on your knees," he says, pulling you back from him, your hair already a mess from his hands, the straps of your dress falling down your shoulders and nearly making your tits spill out. "Open your mouth," he commands, and you follow immediately, your wide eyes looking up at him in desire, his thumb running over your bottom lip. "I like when you do what I say," he says, pinching your cheek and making you blush, the praise making your insides turn to jelly. He unzips his pants smoothly, undoing the button and swiftly pulling out his hard cock, the tip a slight shade of red and already leaking slightly.
"Look what you did to me," he says, palming himself, your tongue nearly falling out of your mouth as you salivate over his beautiful cock. "I thought for a moment I'd have to come up here and deal with this all on my own, after you eye-fucked me all dinner," he continues, slowly stroking his length, moving closer to your open and waiting lips. "I should have known you weren't wearing any panties from the way you were acting," he says, gently running his tip along your outstretched tongue, spreading your spit around your face with it and making a mess of you. "No bra, no panties. You wanted to be fucked tonight." Slowly he enters your mouth, gently holding your head as he pushes further in, gently tapping the back of your throat and making you gag. You moan, your pussy clenching around nothing, wanting him to fill all of your holes at once. "That feels good, doesn't it. Gagging on my cock," he smirks, your eyes fluttering closed as he pushes in again, this time a little harder. "Eyes on me baby, don't look away," he says, slowly beginning to fuck your throat, gently enough not to choke you but deep enough to make you repeatedly gag, your spit covering his cock and running down your chin, your face a complete mess. "Fuck, your mouth feels good," he groans, his face scrunching up in pleasure for a moment, before he looks down to meet your eyes again, which are now glued to him, glued to every change in his expression, every flick of his tongue across his bottom lip. "I'm gonna go harder baby, I know you can take it," he warns you before picking up his pace, his cock nearly bottoming out in your mouth as he holds your head in place, repeatedly fucking into your throat. You're automatically swallowing around him, your body's reflexive actions taking over. "Fuck, so good," Hongjoong sighs, your head feeling light from the lack of oxygen and your body swimming in pleasure. You could let him use your throat all night if he wanted to, especially if he keeps talking to you like that. Like you're dumb and you don't even know what you want. Like he has to tell you or you'll never figure it out.
Finally you choke hard, your body instinctively pulling you back, and he pulls out of your mouth letting you catch you breath, stroking a hand through your hair. You run a hand across your mouth, trying in vain to clean yourself up a bit, wiping the saliva on your dress and staring up at him open mouthed, your entire body covered in a sheen of sweat.
"Hey, don't ruin this," he says pulling at your dress, moving behind you to help take it off. He slowly undoes the zipper, gently pulling the straps down and off your arms before helping you stand to step out of it. Completely bare, you stand in front of him, his hand coming up to spank you, grabbing your ass hungrily in his hand. You yelp at the impact, like you weren't expecting it. Like you hadn't been sticking your ass out ever so slightly, arching your back to add to the affect. "Don't write checks you can't cash, doll," he says, making you giggle and turn your head to face him, a look of utter delight on your face. "It really makes you happy when I scold you, doesn't it," he says, staring you down.
"Why are you so clothed?" you ask, finding your words.
"You want to see me naked?" he teases.
"Just seems like you're hiding something. Maybe under all that nice clothing you're really not that built," you laugh, knowing it would strike a nerve. It wasn't hard to tell that he cared about his figure.
"Go sit on your hands on the bed," he retorts, his eyes narrowing, as he starts taking off his watch, undoing the clasp on his chain. He sets both down on the table gently, pulling his shirt over his head next, revealing that most of his abdomen is also covered in tattoos, his broad shoulders and broad chest. Slowly he sits on the side of the bed to untie his shoes, periodically looking up at you to make sure you haven't moved, moving almost comically slow. You wriggle in anticipation, watching him slowly reveal himself, his muscular thighs finally on display to you as he pulls down his pants and boxers, his cock hard and a deeper shade of red now, still glistening from your spit.
"Lay on your stomach," he says, moving over you when you oblige, raking the hair out of your face so he can see you. "This is what you get for sticking your ass out," he says, swiftly moving down to lick over your hole, making you gasp at the coldness of his tongue. Immediately the feeling runs to your clit, your entire crotch alive with pleasure, your back arching instinctively to meet his movements. He spreads your cheeks to get better access, moving his tongue in quick circles around your tight entrance, your body slowly relaxing from the pleasure he's providing.
And suddenly he's off of you, reaching into his bedside drawer and pulling out a bottle, swiftly lubing the fingers of his right hand and moving them to your waiting hole, gently pushing one in. You groan, the tight muscles stretching already, your body arching even further to give him the perfect angle as he gently starts pumping in and out of you.
"You like getting your ass eaten, I knew you would. So dirty," he says, making you whine in agreement, your brows scrunched together in pleasure. Soon he adds another finger, the stretch again making you groan, your body instinctively tightening up at the intrusion. "I know you can take it," he says, not even attempting to comfort you. "Don't brats like getting their asses fucked?" he asks, his words making your clit ache, your body finally releasing again as he works you open with two fingers, taking the opportunity to quickly add another. "I knew it," he says, satisfied with how quickly he's stretched you open, how pliant your body is in his hands, how he's getting exactly what he wants from you. Still fucking you with his fingers, he opens the lube bottle again with his other hand, generously dousing his achingly hard cock. Gently he pulls his fingers out of you, frozen for a moment staring at the way your hole has opened up, nearly drooling from the visual.
"Spread you legs," he says, pushing your knees apart himself, pulling you ass up towards him, just where he wants you. Lining himself up, he slowly pushes in, the stretch even more severe this time, making you whine in pain, your breaths short and stifled with your head now shoved into his pillows. "What, you can't take it? Is it too big?" he asks, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "My little brat can't take my cock in her ass?"
Tears start forming in your eyes from how turned on you are, the pain a secondary feeling as it all starts to feel just right, as it starts morphing into only pleasure as your muscles finally relent. You feel like you're being split open, like you're opened up more than ever before, like he's gutting you from the inside. Finally he bottoms out, reaching into you further than you thought you could feel, your clit throbbing painfully with need.
"Fuck, you're so tight," he groans from above you, brushing a hand along your cheek in an almost sweet gesture, seeing the single tear stain on your cheek. He waits a moment, waiting to feel if your body is ready, and suddenly your hips are moving into his like your body is begging him to move. He slowly pulls out, almost all the way, then thrusts back in, making you gasp at the intense pleasure, your breath nearly getting caught in your throat. Grabbing your hips he starts forcefully thrusting, chasing his own pleasure as he's sucked into your ass, the tight muscles threatening to make him come in an instant. Desperate for some relief you move your hand to your clit, desperately trying to circle it as he rocks you hard with the force of his thrusts. His eyes are glued to your ass, glued to the way his cock looks buried inside you, and your face, the way your mouth hangs permanently open as you moan in earnest, clearly not controlling a single sound that is coming out. The raw sounds make him fuck into you even harder, the way you sound so pathetically fucked out, like you can't believe this feels so good. Eventually his eyes roam down again and spot your hand, swatting it away in an instant, his anger boiling up again.
"Is my cock not enough?" he scolds, his voice gravelly from breathing so raggedly, the air in the room stiflingly hot. In this position it's hard, but quickly he finds a good angle and lands a sharp smack on your clit, the pain lancing through your core like lightning, and suddenly your whole body is shaking, your nerves completely on fire. "Even with my cock buried in your ass you want to piss me off, don't you?" His voice is raised, nearly to the point of losing control, but still very calculated. He lands another sharp slap on your clit, this time not as hard, but in an instant your orgasm washes over you, your whole body shaking hard as you squeeze down around his cock making it hard for him to keep moving.
"Fuck, baby, shit," Hongjoong curses, his climax hitting him by surprise, his cock milked by your tight walls squeezing down on him, your body taught with just how hard you came. His orgasm crashes over him fast and hard, his body going limp just after yours does, as you both collapse in a pile on the bed, his cum coating the walls of your ass in silky wetness. Your legs are still shaking, tucked up underneath you, his cock still buried deep inside. The position is awkward but you don't even feel it, the pleasure still rippling through you as you breath hard into the soft pillow. Hongjoong crashes onto your back, his arms instinctively wrapping around you, his chest and stomach rapidly rising and falling from his heavy breathing. His skin feels sticky and hot against yours, his hot breath fanning over your cheek as he plants a kiss there, intently watching your face as you come down.
"I'm gonna pull out now, okay?" he asks, eliciting a hum of agreement from you. Slowly he pulls backwards, his cum spilling out of you the moment he's pulled out entirely, spilling down your ass cheek onto the bedsheets. Hongjoong makes his way to the bathroom, quickly cleaning himself up before grabbing a washcloth for you, dousing it in luke warm water. Coming back to the bed he gently moves you onto your back, to the side of the pool of cum. He gently wipes you down, making you moan when he brushes over your clit, making himself chuckle.
Glancing over at the clock beside his bed you see it's nearly 11pm, your mind spinning. Quickly you move to the ground to rummage through your purse, glancing at your phone to see a text from Beatrice reading 'I'm back now, don't stay out too late miss.'
Be back soon, you write back.
"I should be going," you say, trying to stand up, your wobbly legs making it difficult. Hongjoong is at your side in a moment, stabilizing you, helping you to sit down on the bed while he grabs your dress off the floor. You hastily pull it over your head, running your fingers through your hair and feeling the knots that have formed. Quickly you zip the back of your dress, shove your phone in your purse and stand to slip on your sandals, not wanting to keep her waiting. The sudden quietness of Hongjoong also has you feeling slightly on edge, and really your head is just spinning, from every unexpected thing that happened.
"I'm not still mad, you know," he says gently, grabbing your hand as you move to breeze past him.
"Yeah?" you ask, looking at him with confusion.
"You don't need to still be acting like a kid who is in trouble," he says, kissing your hand. "That was just, that. You can talk to me like anyone else, now."
You eye him, swallowing thickly. What does one even say, now? Could he tell how inexperienced you were with hookups?
"I'm not sure what's going on in that pretty head of yours. I hope it's happy thoughts."
You nod, a smirk playing on your lips. You're speechless, unable to think a complete thought. It all just plays in your head, his tongue on your ass, his fingers stretching you out, his cock pounding into you so hard. And the smack on your clit, the way it made you come so fast, the ghost of the feeling still present in your core.
"Not those thoughts. You're gonna jump me again," he laughs, and finally you smack him, punching his arm soon afterwards. Pushing past him you walk fast, opening his door and spinning around, your eyes piercing as you meet his.
"What, you can't take my teasing?" he asks, but suddenly his door swings shut, your face gone in a flash.
As you saunter down the hall to the elevator you feel fucking amazing, swinging your purse over your shoulder and flipping your hair to the side, your sleepy eyes boring holes into the metal doors.
Well, she did tell you to have some fun. You just hoped Beatrice wouldn't be too mad you fucked her uncle.
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goldsbitch · 5 months ago
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Ah...
In a world where people get born with the first sentence their soulmate shares with them tattooed on their wrist, Y/N and Oscar are probably not the ones with the easiest story to tell.
note: first Oscar fic! this is prep for a longer 1k followers celebration...i'm a little too excited for that one
warning: pure fluff
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Not everyone got to meet their soulmate, and that was totally fine. Her parents weren't soulmates and they still managed to have an amazing life. Why waste time waiting around and looking for a guy who's first word he'd ever say to her was suppose to be "Ah."
"Ah."...? What was that about anyway? Stupid wrist tattoo, marking her forever with a word so unimpressive.
During her teenage years, it became an inside joke between her and her best friend. A word to overuse so much it could truly mean anything. Ah.
Her boyfriend was definitely not her soulmate. He was blessed with having a full sentence on his wrist - but in French, a language she did not speak. The hot, dark haired boy was too obsessed with studying physics to take the whole concept of soulmates seriously, so when they met in university, it was a no brainer to follow the path set by hormones rather than fate and date together.
Only after they graduated she realized just how soul-crushing it was to spend time with him. When the social circles broke down and they were left alone, it was more than clear they were not a good match. But it's hard to see the tornado when you're standing inside of it.
The vacation was suppose save the relationship. Instead, their fights were laced with her running away and him having his eyes wonder around any girl walking by.
Only two more days, she said as she walked hastily around a garden adjacent to the villa they were staying at, once again. It was like a dance - they'd fight, she'd run away, he'd search for her and they'd go back to their room for a night of silence. On repeat for the whole vacation organized by the devil himself. The plan was to turn her life upside down once she arrived back home. Start fresh. At that moment, she had no idea just how fresh that would be.
She stood in the middle of a pathway leading to dimly lit swimming pool, tired and impatient. By this time her boyfriend would usually be on his way to get her back.
Finally, grass cracking sound that followed any footstep in this garden. She closed her eyes, unable to do this dance anymore.
"I want to break up," she whispered and turned around.
Oscar did not plan on speaking with this woman standing in the middle of the way back to his hotel room. He was just coming back from his late evening swim session.
When she uttered those words, it was like each of the syllable burned on his skin. Hundred questions answered and thousand new on the table.
Absolutely baffled, yet in his typical stoic style of keeping it together on the outside, while exploding internally, he couldn't bring himself to a more than..."Ah."
//
Oscar fully believed in the concept of soulmates and had no doubt that he would meet his, that's why he refrained from dating anyone who did not have the specific, very strange, words on their wrist.
"I want to break up"...? Why would this be the first thing you ever say to someone?
Over the time, he figured it would just be him overhearing the words. Or that he was one of the lucky ones, having a soulmate who has a special catch phrase they use when introducing to anyone new. He imagined his soulmate to be clever and cunning. And like the dreamer he was, he already had several versions of their meet up in his head, usually followed by their whole life together playing out. Oh, what a bliss when the moment would finally come.
But when it came, it took him totally of guard. Somehow, in all the scenarios he thought about his whole life, he missed probably the most realistic one. He was only trying to get back to his room and this girl was standing in the middle of the only clear pathway, as if it was nothing. She spoke with her back turned to him.
"I want to break up."
And when she turned around, after mistaking him for someone else, he saw a beautiful face, all puffy with smudged make up. And obviously in a really bad mood. He was, as they say, too stunned to speak.
"Ah." He said bluntly, too quickly for him to even notice it, processing the fact he just heard that one specific sentence, the one that should define the rest of his life.
She stared at him, as if he just offended her entire family. "What?!"
He felt..nothing. She couldn't be his soulmate. No way. Most likely because he had his response to "I want to break up" rehearsed his whole life. It was supposed to be "Worry not, now I am here." A lovely sentence to walk around with, right? He wanted his soulmate to wear the tattoo proudly, not with - what was it he even said? Did he even say something? He didn't, did he?
"Worry not, now I am here," he tried, feeling like he had nothing to loose. The words came out clumsily, as if they tripped over one another.
He was sure her face was already the most confused one could make, but she proved him wrong, quickly.
"Sorry, I'll leave you to it. This was obviously a misunderstanding," he said, trying to be polite and took few steps ahead to get going. She reacted and stepped right into his way.
This surely couldn't be it. But, emotions were running high, she thought she was addressing her boyfriend and was somehow trying to comprehend the fact she nearly broke up with him. And then she hears an "Ah." "What did you say?" she shot at him, no filter whatsoever, watching him with fascination and some flavor of anger.
Oscar was beginning to regret ever engaging in this conversation. "Worry not, now I am here...There, now, is that tattooed on your wrist? I imagine not, so, apologies and I'll leave you to whatever you're doing," he said, without giving her much space to respond. He felt slightly guilty about leaving an obviously distressed woman alone there, but his social awkwardness won this round and he just wanted this to be over.
"No, you didn't," she said, not intent on moving anywhere. Determined look replaced her sorrow.
"I'm pretty sure I did."
"And I am sure you didn't," she said, raising her wrist all the way to his eyeline. "You said this, didn't you?!"
It was not a tone of playful or even hopeful realization. Her delivery was spiced with unresolved anger that grew inside. He squeezed his eyes, having hard time seeing the small letters in the light of the nearing night. "What's that?"
She put her hand down, having a really hard time believing this was actually happening. It took him by surprise the speed with which she reached for his own hand, but his racer reflexes kicked in and he managed to avoid her.
Annoyed sigh left her mouth. "Will you show me your hand? I've already had a pretty shit day without you making obstructions."
He looked deeply in her eyes. This was a lot of emotion battling each others, little too much for Oscar.
"I'm pretty sure we're not soulmates," he said dryly.
"Tell me what's on your hand and I'll let you fuck off from when you came from."
"I'd actually like to go the other way-"
"Show me your hand!"
Visibly taken back, almost offended by her shouting, he reveled his wrist.
Time stopped for Y/N for few seconds. She was staring at the words she uttered just a minute ago. Decided to take a deep breath before she looked in his eyes once again. "Sorry for...screaming. We're almost definitely soulmates...You said "Ah." It felt good to finally know what kind of tone this sound was spoken with. End to the endless possibilities.
The irony of the fact that Oscar had a hard time remembering if he had actually said something so stupid dwelled on him. Did he? Knowing himself, he probably did.
"Ah," he repeated with a much heavier, slightly bitter, undertone.
"Yeah."
They just stood there, staring at each other. Was this suppose to be it? The moment he longed for and the one she already mourned? Just now she noticed that he was a gorgeous guy. Heavenly actually. Such a kind smile. Innocent look with a hint of spice. But she believed in love, not necessarily soulmates. Even if she did, this was the worst moment to do this. Little, almost invisible, tears started rolling from her eyes.
"Can I take a photo of you?" she asked, with defeated smile, wanting to walk away with a tangible evidence for her lonely evenings in the future.
Oscar was still processing. "Sure," he replied to a sentence he heard thousand times each month. Very automatically his body moved for a classic hug with a fan - which she rejected and just snapped a photo of his face.
"Nice to meet you. But I have my shit to deal with. I'm not good for you anyway," she said and sprinted back to he hotel room, to her current boyfriend and a deadend life. He just stood there, unable to comprehend. When he finally did, she was gone.
//
"Mr. Piastri, you understand that I can't just give you a room number to someone who you don't even know by name," the receptionist said, not backing down to his urgency.
"But she is my soulmate! She just passed by, surely you would know which one of the guests she is," he said, both hand on the counter, towering the poor reception lady.
"I'm going to have to ask you to stop this request or we might be forced to cancel your stay and remove you from the premise."
He rolled his fingers into his first, mad at himself the most out of all the people. "Yeah. Great. Understood."
//
Y/N didn't sleep for a minute that night. When she returned back without a word, her boyfriend didn't even look up. She didn't really care.
"Let's just get through these few days," he said and she just nodded.
Mind racing around new set of eyes she memorized from the photo she had, not having a clue that he in fact was a racer.
//
Breakfast. Oscar's chance to take destiny into his own hands. He was the first one to arrive and planned on being the last one to leave. And should she miss her breakfast, he'd move into the lobby. Determined to talk to her at least one more time. Sat there, drinking his juice and bouncing his leg up to the point it annoyed even him.
//
He'd probably be at the breakfast, she realized as her sleep deprived body walked towards the elevator. A stolen glance at her partner. They hadn't said a word to each other the whole morning. To think she once thought one of them would bury the other after a nice full-filled life. Coffee and croissant was her only hope now. And of course the guy from yesterday was there. Sitting at a table, alone, very obviously finished with his breakfast. Arms crossed and eyeing all the entrances. She couldn't help but smile and light up when she saw him. He sat there. Waiting. Was there even a possibility he'd be waiting for her? Like a soulless ghost, she followed her current partner and sat down to the table he picked.
Oscar was a secret over-thinker. He spent every minute going through every possibility of what could happen. So of course he was ready, in theory, for her entering with another guy or a girl. However, the whole nature of her first sentence to him was about breaking up. And you don't say that in a healthy relationship.
It was now or never for him. He watched the pair grab a seat few tables away from him. God, she was gorgeous. Seeing her walk in, summer dress proving the internet was right once again, made him weak in his knees and unable to look away. She paused upon noticing him, eyes shyly flashing back and forth, absolutely no plan or idea what to do. Awkwardly put her things down the at the table, fumbled around aimlessly and proceeded to walk over the breakfast bar. As she walked, she could almost feel his eyes piercing through her back. For some reason, it felt as if he knew something she didn't. she had to actively convince herself to act normal, as if this was her first time having breakfast at a hotel. Copy others. Oscar did indeed stare at her as if there was no tomorrow. Eyes glued to her back, cosplaying as the worst private detective this planet ever produced. He found himself getting up and approaching the bar she was standing by, the guy she came in long gone from her close proximity.
Oscar gulped before speaking, standing right beside her, pretending to be interested in a stack of apples. Her eyes flashed to her left, but she already knew who was standing next to her. It was as if she could hear his energy, something divine, intoxicating and most importantly - inevitable.
"Morning....I hope you've had better night than when you left yesterday," he opened with, desperately trying to break the ice. He was absolutely hopeless with small talk. His tone created a small smile on her face. This sort strange and unique tonality, which was exceptionally hard to decipher, mixed with his Australian accent. Again, so many questions popping up in her head - her body wanted her to find out everything about this guy.
"I'm not sure that's the case. But thank you for asking I guess," she said and leaned over his hand to reach for a fresh peach. It was not her conscious decision to brush his hand, but it definitely could have been avoided. Neither party mattered. Two shy smiles were created at that moment.
"Would you mind sharing your name with me?" he asked, as she glanced over to his wrist, to look at his tattoo once again.
She answered, slightly hesitantly. "Y/N."
"Uuh,"
"Are interjections the only language you speak?" she whispered, still not over the whole "Ah." thing and finally stopped pretending to be interested in the breakfast bar. She did the best she could to meet his eye while not turning around and becoming too obvious.
Oscar was having trouble processing his body's reaction to this girl being so close now. "No, but I am happy you seem interested to know that."
It was impossible to fight of the smile. "I'm not, you're the reason I'm walking with this my whole life," she said, lifting her wrist once again.
He fiddled with some apples, trying to keep his hands busy. "I'd like to object that in this pair I'm the one who lost"
"Don't say the word pair," she said in a tone so unserious even she couldn't pretend to believe it.
"Why, does that idea make you nervous?" he clicked his tongue, feeling more confident with every second she stayed there with him.
"I have a boyfriend," she stated, lying to herself anyway.
He smirked. "Apologies, must have misread my own hand."
"I can't break up with someone on a holiday," she responded, reaching for straws, not even knowing why. She took two steps to the coffee line and to no surprise, he followed.
"You didnt seem to think as such yesterday," he said in more serious tone. "Look, I don't know you-"
"No, you don't," she jumped in before he continued.
"-But...let me present my hypotheses, so that we can test the whole soulmate thing. Does that not make you at least a bit excited?" he said, trying to hide his own excitement, which was something he did not have to do often, so he was not really good at it.
She found his confidence mixed with clumsiness so intoxicating. "It's overrated," she argued, perhaps trying to see how much he's willing to defend it.
"I'm so much looking forward to proving that theory wrong." There is was. The point of no return.
"Well before you do," she bit her smile, accidentally leaving a pause for him to fill.
"Ah, so you believe that I will," he said sith his signature "I won" smile.
"Again, with the interjections, you gotta unlearn that," she said, happy he couldn't see directly into her face, as she felt the blush spreading.
"Teach me."
"Stop it...." she froze, searching in memory a moment when he'd introduce himself.
"Oscar."
She finally paused and dared to look at him, or more specifically stopped resisting her wondering eyes. Her mind rushed through all the Oscar's she had the pleasure to meet and absolutely none of them did justice to the name. His kind eyes, while somewhat giving shy guy vibes, pierced through her fearlessly. So sure of himself, et somehow humble. An impossible enigma she could see herself deciphering for the rest of her life.
"Nice name," she said, in a completely new tone, one he hadn't heard yet. Calm, kind and intrigued.
"Thank you." They stared at each other for few more moment, utterly inappropriately for two strangers in a coffee line. Taking in the little intricacies about the other, as if memorizing for a test.
"You said you had a hypotheses?" she broke silence, not quite sure they were at the same planet as their surroundings anymore. All around them sort of blended together into an unclear, totally unimportant mush.
"I do. Hope I don't overstep."
"I think that does not matter now," she said, walls crumbling down one by one.
"Good. I think you don't want to break up with your current boyfriend now that you'd met me," he said boldly.
"Astonishingly obnoxious," she teased, unable to believe he caught her.
"Fair. But, yesterday you wanted to. Now, it serves like a perfect excuse why run away from this," he said and stepped just a little bit closer to her.
"I don't want to be a slave of some destiny bullshit," she said, while absolutely agreeing with destiny this time.
There was no way back for Oscar. Looking into her eyes was making him drown in lands never explored before. "Yes, but why reject it before we even get the chance to discover if we like each other."
"I don't even know you."
"Your parents didn't know each other at one point," he said matter-o-factly.
The reality was creeping into her mind. "I hardly know anything about you! Like where you live, what you do..."
He was not letting her go. "All over the globe, I am a racing driver. You?"
How come it seemed so easy and obvious for him? "Oscar, I'm..I'm scared." Intimidated was the word she wanted to use, but it felt a little bit too much.
"Of what?"
"I dunno...? Of this working out?"
"Do you realize that sounds quite ridiculous."
"...Yes".
"Well, I believe this is going to be great fun. Listen, it's not socially acceptable for me to bother you for longer. But I desperately hope this is not the last conversation we share," he lowered his voice, parting ways with her being the last thing he actually wanted to do, but his intuition told him, that he had to give her some space to come forward to his, her decision.
Y/N's head was a mess, truth slipping through, passing all the filters that seemed to have stopped working. "I am afraid it's not."
He smiled. "Good. Now, I'll leave you to your life - do whichever you think is right. But please give me your number."
"No, you give me yours so that I can call you when i want to. You know, boundaries," she ordered, trying to keep some control in her hands.
He trusted his gut. "Fair."
//
"Lady, I can't tell you where's Oscar's room." It was a different receptionist that Oscar had dealt with, but probably with the same training.
"But it's a suprise! Look, I have his number an everything."
"Why don't you call him?"
"You're familiar with the concept of a surprise?"
//
Unlike Oscar, she managed to convince the reception into giving her Oscar's room number. It was all the way up at the last floor. Fancy, she thought. It's impossible to convey the energy and adrenaline cocktail that Y/N was on when she was on the way to knock on his room and announce that she actually went though with the break up and the guy was on his way home, cutting the vacation early. It was unhinged, reckless, addictive. She had to stop herself several times, as the excitement mixed with fear was making her put on faces very strange to anyone who should pass by. If music was on, she'd dance for hours. Hell, she had no idea what was suppose to happen now. And that had never felt so exhilarating before.
With one last breath before her life changed for good, she knocked on the door.
After the longest few seconds ever experienced on this planet, he finally opened the door.
She physically couldn't hold it anymore. "I broke up with him," she blurted out the moment their eyes met.
Oscar tried to take in the image of his soulmate, standing there in front of him, flustered and ready to take the leap with him, once again, having trouble holding his smile in.
"Ah."
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freeabortionslol · 1 month ago
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Oscars night (Quinn Hughes x Reader)
hey gang how are we doing on this lovely Wednesday evening? anyways this is my first fic in like forever and it was kind of rushed so don't hate me I just wanted to write something.
summary: fluff, the reader is an actress going to the oscars for the first time with her childhood crush friend Quinn Hughes where there are several tension filled moments between the two until if finally cracks. the reader has a very strong friendship with the Hughes family with Luke looking at her as an older sister
warnings!! cursing, suggestive (???), marijuana, lil bit of angst (maybe), jealousy, mentions of alcohol, kissing, and lmk if I missed any but it's basically just fluffy as hell. I didn't fully proofread and it's lowk rushed but enjoy!!
wc: 4.2k
It was your first awards season with Quinn by your side. The two of you had been friends since you were kids, with you being the same age as Jack. You’ve always just been best friends, but the past couple of months things have shifted and the tension has been stronger than ever. You’re unsure if you're delusional or if he also noticed the way your hands lingered close when he handed you something. The two of you were staying in a hotel room near downtown Los Angeles for the Oscars. You were nominated for best supporting actress, and the film you appeared in was nominated for best picture. Your agent set up the hotel room and when she scheduled the room, she assumed you’d be sharing with your now ex boyfriend. While you and Quinn shared the room, there were two separate beds which disappointed you a bit, but you couldn’t voice it. You stayed in the bathroom getting ready for the night. Your agent wanted to have a hair and makeup team come to get you gussied up, but you insisted that the only person who could make you look the way you wanted, was you. You went for a more laid back look with less bold eye makeup, a blowout, and a floor length green gown with spaghetti straps. You put the final touches on your makeup look and slipped on your dress. The problem was, you couldn’t zip the dress up all the way unless you were trying to dislocate your shoulder. You thought about possibly asking one of your friends to do it when you got there, but the thought of showing up to the Oscars in an unzipped dress was mortifying. You decided to suck up your fears of intimacy with Quinn, and slowly opened the door. Quinn couldn’t hear the door open with the soft sounds of Mac Demarco playing from your bluetooth speaker. He was standing in the mirror fiddling with his tie trying to get it on the right way. You stood in the doorway for a moment just admiring how he looked in his prada suit. His hair hung messily parted in the middle just the way you liked it. You had to beg him to let you do it since he normally opted for the beanie + suit combo. You stared at him as he began to get frustrated. Huffing and puffing as he moved the tie around his neck trying to center it perfectly. You let out a silent laugh with a small smile and walked over towards him. 
“Here let me do it.” You grabbed his shoulders with both hands and moved his body to face you. Quinn was speechless as you untied his tie and began doing it your way. Your eyes were focused on the tie around his neck, but his were centered on you in your stunning gown looking beautiful as ever. He had seen you several times in various different articles of clothing including his own, but never like this. He had never seen you so glamorized before, at least never in person. You fit into it so naturally, and he had to remind himself that you were dressed for your world and not his. He had gotten so used to seeing you in the box wearing his jersey with a pair of leggings, and completely forgot what you looked like doing the things that you loved. The nerves of the night came over him like a wave. Worried that he wouldn’t do the right thing or that he might embarrass you, but nothing beat his thought of wanting to see that green gown on his bedroom floor.
“You look beautiful.” He said in his trance-like state which caused you to look up from where your hands were on his tie. Never in his life had Quinn looked at you like this, or even spoken to you like this.
“I-uh…thank you.” You gave him a small closed mouthed smile to which he returned back. You turned your attention back to his tie trying to cover up the red tint that had washed over your face. “You look very handsome.” You could feel his breath on your forehead as he smiled. His face was now painted with the same red tint as yours. “Lucky to have a guy like you as my date.” You finished with his tie and turned around signaling him to zip up your dress. He very gently moved your hair out of the way and began to zip up the dress. His knuckles subtly touching your bare back as he made his way up, which sent shivers down your spine. When the dress was fully secured he grabbed both of your arms and turned you to where you were both facing the mirror. He placed his head on your shoulder admiring the stunning sight in the mirror. He was taking mental pictures in his head and in this moment he declared that this was his favorite spot. Being so close to you knowing that his lips were close enough to leave soft and rough kisses trailed down your neck. The way he could hear your faint breathing against the top of his head and it made him wonder if your heart was racing just as much as his.
“The only lucky person in this room is me.” He planted a soft kiss on your jawline and walked to the other side of the room to retrieve his phone. You, on the other hand, were left standing in the mirror, but that red tint covering your face had become significantly more saturated. 
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
When the two of you arrived at the red carpet before the show, cameras flashed at full speed as people were shouting incoherent things at you. Quinn had dealt with cameras at awards shows several times, but nothing as intense as this. He had to remind himself that you were also a star and being an actress came with more publicity issues than being a hockey player. He was nervous. Not visibly nervous enough for everyone to notice, but enough to where you noticed. You felt bad for bringing him to this crazy event, but you knew that things would calm down eventually. Absent-mindedly, Quinn placed his hand on your hip pulling you close. He felt the need to protect you from the flashing cameras, and he didn’t love the photographers yelling at you to pose in a different way. There was one photo that stood out prominently that you knew would be the talk of the internet. You were wearing a small closed-mouthed smile leaning your head towards Quinn, while he had a stare that could kill as his hand held and strong grip on your waist. This was abnormal for him, as he was always smiling during award show pictures. As you moved down the carpet, Quinn’s hand moved from your waist to the small of your back, making sure that his presence was known behind you. You grabbed his free hand with yours, pulling him to where he was next to you as you whispered in his ear.
“You okay?” You asked as he looked directly into your eyes
“Yeah. I’m fine, just not used to all this.” He let out a slight laugh along with a smile that brought your nerves down significantly. You decided to intertwine your fingers with his and you both moved down to an interviewer from entertainment tonight. When you stopped, Quinn took his place standing next to you, but stepped back a bit. His hand found his way back to your hip which was cut perfectly out of camera view. The interviewer asked you several questions about your movie while Quinn stayed back. His thumb was tracing circles on your waist which sent shivers down your spine, but you did your best to hold back those thoughts during the interview.
“So, Ms. Y/Ln, care to introduce us to your date?” You smiled and placed your hand on Quinn’s shoulder to move him up closer next to you 
“Yes. This is Quinn Hughes. He’s a defenceman for the Vancouver Canucks. We’ve known each other since we were kids, and I thought why not take him to the oscars.” You let out a small forced laugh and Quinn looked at you and smiled.
“So Quinn, how's your first experience at the Oscars going? Do you love it? Do you hate it? Do tell.” Quinn turned his attention away from you and over to something in the distance, not wanting to make direct eye contact with the interviewer or the camera. 
“It’s-uhh…it’s definitely not something I'm used to.” He rubbed his neck and laughed, looking back at the interviewer. “I don’t know how she does this all the time. Truly she’s a champ for being able to walk through this chaos. Put me on the ice in front of thousands of people and I'm fine, but put me in front of a bunch of cameras and I freeze.” You laugh at Quinn’s comment which causes him to crack a smile at you.
“Sooo what’s the scoop here? Are we dating? Boyfriend and girlfriend?” The interviewer asked and you and Quinn immediately froze. Both of your smiles dropped in an instant along with your hearts. Without hesitation, Quinn stepped up to the mic and said “No. We’re just friends. Have been for a long time.” You felt your heart shatter on the red carpet. You knew that the two of you were just friends, but hearing it said out loud? By him? So publicly? It was bound to crush you. You couldn’t stop thinking about how quickly and naturally it came out of his mouth like he didn’t even have to think about it. The both of you said your goodbyes to the interviewer and made your way down the carpet. He made sure to keep his fingers intertwined with yours not wanting you to get lost or taken. He didn’t know why he had that fear, but it definitely showed. 
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
After the insane red carpet frenzy, you and Quinn finally made your way inside. His hand was still intertwined with yours as you made your way through the groups of people. You were stopped by several costars and famous actors you wanted to introduce Quinn to. While standing around with Quinn, you excused yourself to the powder room as he went to get drinks for the two of you. The infamous bathroom was filled with women you’ve only ever seen on a screen and you had to fight the urge to ask for a photo while you were washing your hands side by side. You looked up into the mirror, fixing your hair as your hands were shaking. The only thing you could think of was how Quinn answered that question. You were freaking out on the inside and just wanted to ball up on the floor and cry it out, but you couldn’t. Quinn wasn’t the only thing that influenced your nerves, it was also that you were nominated for your first oscar and the thought of losing was killing you. In all honesty, the thought of winning was actually worse. Having to go up in front of an entire room of some of the most hardworking people in the world and read a speech that you wrote in your notes app last night while giggling on the phone with Jack. You held back your tears as you stared in the mirror. You let out a couple deep breaths, each one shakier than the last. Suddenly, as if she was a gift from god, Billie Eilish moved in next to you, hitting her vape pen. The two of you had met on several occasions and have become “Award Buddies” being so close in age.
“Billie.” You let out, trying not to hyperventilate. She looked up from her phone at you.
“Yes?” She gave you a half smile as you stared at her blankly.
“That THC or nicotine?”
“THC.”
“Can I hit it please?”
“Go for it.” Billie handed you her pen and you took a long drag. The smoke already calming your nerves just from the feel of it in your throat. You weren’t a big smoker at all. You only really got high with Luke when he was staying at your house. It was kind of a sacred thing between the two of you, sometimes with Quinn joining along. It was safe to say that your tolerance was low, but you weren’t thinking about that when you took another long hit of Billie’s cart. After three long hits of the pen, you handed it back to Billie, thanked her, and made your way out of the bathroom. You expected to see Quinn at the door when you walked out, but instead you were met with a long line of women waiting for the bathroom. You made your way through the crowds of people standing around, your high still not hitting quite yet. You stopped yourself when you finally found yourself in the eyesight of the bar. Quinn was standing there, two drinks in hand, talking to a beautiful woman. She looked about his age, a bit shorter than you, and her healthy chestnut colored hair fell into flawless curl patterns. Her head flew back in laughter at something he said, his face gaining a smile with teeth which was something he only reserved if he was actually having a good time. You felt your blood boil and your heart sink as you watched this wholesome interaction between the two of them. You watched as her hand reached up to touch the tie that you had put on him just hours before, and you decided that was the final straw. Your territorial instincts kicked in as you pushed through the crowd trying to make your way to the two of them. You reached Quinn and you placed your hand on his back, rubbing it around.
“Hey baby.” You’ve never called him that, but it’s now or never. Quinn was startled by your presence but quickly put his arm around your waist, pulling you close. His touch made your high kick in immediately as you leaned into him. Your body felt like it was melting into his. You visualized laying in his arms at the lake house while Luke and Jack were laughing about something stupid. That’s where you wanted to be right now, not here.
“Hey pretty girl.” He kissed the side of your head and handed you your drink, subtly hinting to the girl that he was taken. The girl only smiled and walked away letting out a “Nice to meet you.” You moved your head into Quinn’s chest and began laughing uncontrollably.
“What? What’s so funny?” He cracked a smile. Your head burying further into his chest as you let out a muffled “Quinny I'm so stoned right now.” You laughed through your words. 
“What are you talking about?” He laughed along with you. You lifted your head up slightly so he could see your eyes. Your chin still rested in his chest while your arms were limp. 
“Holy shit. You were sober when you left me.” He placed his hand on your cheek and smiled. You leaned into his touch and kissed his hand before looking back up at him with a cheesy grin. He let out a soft laugh and rubbed his thumb against your cheek bone. Quinn knew how overly touchy you got when you were high. Every time the two of you smoked together, you insisted he held your hand, or you leaned your head on his shoulder. The night always ended in you lying on top of him because you liked the way the rise and fall of his chest made your brain feel. He moved his hand from your face down to your waist, to which you responded by holding onto his wrist for dear life. You stared at his facial features as a smile grew on his face.
“I love you so much Y/n, but you have to act sober, or the internet will go crazy.” His words made you immediately lock in, suddenly remembering where you were. You removed your chin from his chest but kept your grip on his wrist strong. You widen your eyes, trying to make yourself look less dopey, but Quinn immediately responded with a cringed face.
“Don’t do that. You look crazy.” He laughed. You stayed there with your widened eyes just staring at him, unsure of what to do. Absentmindedly your mouth parted slightly in response to the lazy state your body was in. Quinn quickly took his index finger to your chin and pushed it up to close your mouth.
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Making your way to your seats was a challenge in itself. If Quinn wasn’t there you were sure you wouldn’t have been able to make it. He held your hand the whole way there keeping you close as you attempted to make yourself look sober. Sure, you weren’t the only person there that was high, but you weren’t a big smoker, so you didn’t know how to handle it. Not to mention, you’d never been high in public. When you made it to your seats, you made sure Quinn’s hand never left yours. You were in public, but you were still the same girl that gets high at the lake house with his little brother. You looked over at him remembering that he was just as nervous as you were before. You wished he was in the bathroom with you to hit the pen. His leg was bouncing up and down as the lights dimmed, so you removed your hand from his and placed it on his leg, drawing circles with your thumb hoping to calm his nerves. He looked at you with a soft smile that said “Thank you”. As the ceremony went on, Quinn found his hand behind your back, fidgeting with the strap of your dress, twirling it with his fingers. His touch made your face red and you wondered if there were any cameras on the two of you at this moment. Your hand on his leg, and his playing with your dress. You looked over at him to see him only watching the stage as someone was accepting an award. You leaned in close to whisper in his ear.
“Do you realize you’re doing that?” He whipped his head to face you. Your faces now only inches away from each other.
“Doing what?” He asked. His voice low but not quite a whisper. The feeling of his breath on your nose made your heart ache, as you realized you’ve never been this close to him before.
“The strap of my dress. You’re playing with it.” You gave him a slight smile, your eyes never leaving his. He mumbled out a quick sorry and moved his hand away, but you stopped him before he could do so. “No no. It’s cute. Leave it there.” His face turned pink as he smiled at your comment, and turned to look back at the stage. You cheered to yourself in your head at this sweet, and public, intimate moment between you and Quinn. After an hour of people receiving awards and terrible jokes made by the host, your category was finally up next. The high helped your nerves, but you were still shaking. Quinn removed his hand from the strap of your dress and grabbed your shaking one. Your eyes never left the stage as you sat at the edge of your seat in anticipation. Quinn glanced at you with a side eye. He hated seeing you all amped up like this when he’s so used to your calming presence. He leaned in close to your ear. 
“I have a really funny idea to piss off Jack, and throw everyone else off.” You turned to him, your eyes filled with fear, but softening at the idea of Quinn plotting something. It was something the two of you always did together. He was clearly doing it to try and calm down your nerves, but good lord was it helping. 
“What?” you asked, leaning back in your seat, letting him whisper in your ear. 
“If you win, I get to kiss you before you walk up.” Your heart dropped to your stomach as you flipped your head to look at him. Your eyes were in shock and your mouth parted slightly. You knew Quinn would suggest something crazy, but never THIS crazy. The thought of your first kiss with Quinn being in front of the whole world made you sad. You always wanted it to be an intimate moment, maybe in your apartment or down by the lake, but you also couldn’t pass up the opportunity to finally kiss him. You smiled at him, your faces so close to touching.
“Okay. Deal.” You handed out your hand for him to shake. “Jack is gonna lose his shit.”
The moment eventually came. The presenters were announcing the nominees and you got to see yourself in the camera on the screen. Your posture was slumped, you were leaning into Quinn, and your eyes were slowly falling closed. You quickly fixed yourself at the sight, widening your eyes in the way Quinn said not to do. He laughed slightly next to you. You quickly grabbed his hand with your gaze still locked in on the screen.
“And the Oscar goes to…” The presenter left everyone on the edge of their seats as she opened the envelope. You squeezed Quinn’s hand harder than before and he sent back exactly three squeezes which you knew meant “I love you” You looked over for just a split second to give him a smile, before looking back to the stage.
“Y/n L/n!” Your eyes widened more, if that was even possible. Cheers roared from around the theater. Quinn stood up first, holding out his hand for you to take. You were so caught up in the adrenaline rush of winning that you had completely forgotten about the deal you made with him. You stood up slowly trying not to burst into tears of joy. Quinn’s hands were set on your waist, so you rested yours on his biceps. You let out a little scream and jumped up and down twice. Quinn laughed at your reaction before he grabbed your face and planted a closed mouthed kiss on your lips. It wasn’t how you imagined it would be at all. The kiss wasn’t tension-filled or long like how you wanted it to be. You pulled back, your face red, suddenly remembering the deal. Without thinking, still at the peak of your high, you wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him in for a longer kiss. You made sure his bottom lip was tucked in between yours, wanting to get rid of his closed-mouthed idea. It was long awaited and hungry. You weren’t thinking about where you were as you moved your lips against his. You pulled him down slightly, letting him dip you. His grip on your waist tightened as you let your hand move to tug his hair. Quinn let out a slight groan as he pulled back and whispered in your ear.
“Not here, Movie Star. Go get your award.” He let out a slight chuckle and you quickly unwrapped yourself from his touch to jog up to the stairs. When you finally made your way up to the stage, all the nerves that had been building up had suddenly washed away. Not only had you just won your first Oscar, but your childhood crush just kissed you in front of everyone. The adrenaline of that was enough to quickly sober you up. Your speech was breathless and short. You made sure to exclaim your excitement through the microphone. You thanked everyone who worked on your movie, your family, and of course your “Sexy Date”. You quickly made your way off the stage, grinning wide with a slight pep in your step. You made it back to your seat looking at Quinn who had the cheesiest smile on his face. He quickly pulled you into a tight hug, burying his head in your hair.
“I love you so much. You’re amazing.” He muffled through your shoulder.
“I love you too. You have no idea how long I've wanted to kiss you like that.” Quinn pulled back from the hug and grabbed your hand to guide you to sit. Your heart began to race as you realized what you’d just said to him. Your mind started running through all the possibilities of what he would say. 
“Baby, I want you to kiss me like that everyday for the rest of my life.” He faced you, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. You bit your bottom lip and grinned harder than you ever have before. You shifted your focus back to the stage as you rested your head on his shoulder, his hand finding its way back to your waist. You basked in the glamorous vibe of the celebrity-filled room, realizing the prize wasn’t the golden statue you’d just won, but the man sitting beside you.
Hughes fam & weird neighbor girl
Ellen Hughes: *Picture of Y/n holding Luke when they were kids* Lukey loves his big sister <3 Good luck tonight!!!
lukey pookie: *Picture of Y/n and Quinn kissing at the Oscars* Yeah apparently so does Quinn
jack attack: WHAT DA FUCK
Ellen Hughes: Jack. Language.
captain quinny: What can I say? Couldn’t help myself.
jack attack: Y/n ur bringing me to the next one and I get to kiss you
You: no.
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rynwritesreid · 7 months ago
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Feel so close| Spencer Reid
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A/N: if anyone has any good ideas for angst or fluff, or wants to send some requests through. Please do. I obviously love all of your smut requests (i truly do) but I would also love some angst and fluff ones (heavy on the angst ones).
Summary: It’s yours and Spencer’s wedding night and you want to give him what he has always wanted.
Content: Fem!reader. Fluff. Smut. 18+ MDNI. Oral (r!receiving). Creampie. P in V. Slight dom/sub undertones. Breeding kink. Very fluff filled sex I won’t lie. Porn with a plot.
Masterlist| requests are open| Navigation
Spencer was so close to living his dream life, and he could not be any happier. He had just seen his dream girl walk down the aisle to become Mrs Reid. And while he couldn’t be any happier, there was one thing, or really rather a few things, missing that would make his life perfect. 
As he watched the last of the guests fade away, he couldn’t wait to take you to your shared hotel room. He couldn’t stop staring at you, knowing that tonight was the beginning of your forever together. 
As you both entered the elegant suite, Spencer couldn’t get enough of how you looked in your wedding dress, but he also couldn’t wait to get it off you.
 His hands trembled with anticipation as he reached out to caress the delicate lace adorning your shoulder. The room was aglow with the soft light of a dozen candles, casting flickering shadows across your face. 
He leaned in to press a tender kiss against your lips, savouring the sweetness of the moment. “I love you Mrs Reid.” Spencer whispered, his voice filled with love and adoration. You smiled back at him, feeling a rush of warmth and happiness in your chest.
“I love you more, Dr Reid.” You whispered back, your voice barely above a breath.
His heart swelled with joy at your words, feeling like the luckiest man alive. He gently lifted you into his arms, carrying you towards the luxurious four-poster bed adorned with rose petals. 
“You know there is only one thing right now that could make me even happier.” Spencer grinned mischievously as he lowered you onto the soft mattress, the petals fluttering around you like a fragrant snowfall. His eyes sparkled with desire as he leaned into whisper in your ear.
"What's that?" you asked, your voice laced with anticipation, your heart pounding with excitement at the prospect of what was to come.
“If you were to become pregnant with my child.” Spencer gently confessed; his voice filled with hope. 
“I’m sure we can make that happen, Spencer.” You whispered back, a playful glint in your eyes. “I know you have always wanted to be a dad.”
Spencer's face lit up with pure happiness at your words, his heart overflowing with love for you. Without wasting another moment, he captured your lips in a passionate kiss, letting all his emotions pour into the moment.
Spencer carefully started to undress you, his movements slow and reverent as if unwrapping a precious gift. The air was thick with desire and anticipation as he leaned in to kiss every inch of your exposed skin, worshipping you like a devoted lover.
“You are officially my pretty girl now.” Spencer murmured against your skin; his hand was placed on your stomach “I can’t wait to see carrying my child.” 
With a loving smile, you traced your fingers along his jawline, savouring the moment. “And I can’t wait to start a family with you, Spencer,” you whispered, feeling like the luckiest woman in the world to have him by your side.
Once your dress had come completely off, Spencer couldn’t take his eyes of your white lingerie that hugged your curves in all the right places. Desire burned in his eyes as he slowly removed his own clothes, every movement deliberate and filled with longing.
In that moment, nothing else existed for Spencer except for you, the woman who held his heart in her hands. As he kissed you with a hunger that spoke of all the love and passion he felt.
Spencer slowly started kissing his way down your body, leaving no part of you neglected. His mouth was tender and passionate as he explored every inch, savouring each taste and touch. You laid there, feeling like the most desired woman in the world, your body responding to his every move.
His hands traced delicate patterns over your skin, sending ripples of desire through you. His lips then lingered at the base of your neck, and you could feel the heat from his breath. It was a gentle yet powerful affirmation of his deep love for you.
Your breathing became shallow and quick as Spencer continued his exploration, and you found yourself arching your back, inviting him closer. He seemed to sense your need and desire, and his own lustrous eyes betrayed the intensity of his own cravings.
When his lips finally reached the most intimate part of your body, a soft gasp escaped your lips. His touch was gentle yet so powerful in its ability to awaken you, and you knew that no one else could make you feel this way.
As his lips continued to lavish attention upon you, your entire body seemed to come alive with electricity, every nerve ending firing in response to his tender caresses.
You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him closer, and whispered, "Spencer, I need you inside me more than ever. I want to feel you, I want to feel you complete me." Your voice trembled with desire as you spoke.
Spencer looked into your eyes, his love for you a fiery catalyst. He positioned himself over you, the anticipation making his heart race with excitement. With a deep breath, he slowly entered you, the feeling of the warmth and tightness of your body around him, unparalleled.
He slowly began to move, his rhythm in perfect harmony with the pulse of your body, matching the rhythm of your breath as his love for you grew with every stroke.
Spencer once again placed his hand on your lower stomach, he knew realistically he couldn’t feel himself, but he cherished every moment, every sensation, every feeling of being deep within you. He kissed you gently, passionately, and whispered soft encouragement, "It won't be long before I can feel you carrying my child."
Your breaths became more ragged, you wanted nothing more than to make Spencer a dad, to let everyone know you belonged to him.  And so, you wrapped your legs around him, pulling him deeper inside you, increasing the intensity of the moment.
Spencer's eyes locked with yours, the love and desire in them impossible to resist. He moved faster, his pace becoming more urgent, as he sought to fulfil your shared dream. Your bodies moved in perfect sync.
Every muscle in your body tightened in response to his touch, as your climax drew closer with each thrust, a primal urge to merge with him and create new life together overwhelmed you.
Spencer wasn’t far from his own release. His heart was pounding in his chest, and a sense of awe and gratitude washed over him as he felt himself getting closer.
With one final thrust, Spencer cried out your name, his pleasure mingling with the tenderness of the moment. His heart overflowed with love and gratitude. 
He collapsed onto you, his breath ragged and his heart pounding in your ears. You held onto him, feeling the pulse of his heart against the warmth of your skin, and a bond stronger than any connection you'd ever known.
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k8martins · 5 months ago
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˗ˏˋ ˎˊ˗ but i’m a cheerleader! 𒀭
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summary: cheerleader!reader secretly crushes on kate martin, but thinks she hates her until they share a hotel at an away game
warnings: 18+, smut w plot, enemies to lovers if u squint
a/n: i hope i snapped with this one it took forever and i also hope y’all get the reference w the title…
——————————————————————————
the cheer team huddled together to chant one last “go hawks” before practice was over, and the gym was then handed over to the women’s basketball team. they always managed to come in as soon as you were done, not wasting a moment of their practice; especially because they had a highly anticipated away game the next day. the team quickly flooded the court, ready to begin stretches.
you hurriedly picked up your water bottle and began walking off the court, bustling through the basketball girls. just mere steps from being out of their way, you bumped shoulders with one athlete in particular. it happened to be a girl named kate, who seemed to have a bit of a problem with you for no good reason. any jab she took at you, she said it with a confusing smile.
“aren’t you guys done yet,” kate sneered looking back at you, her expression a mix of irritation and laughter.
deciding not to engage, you continued walking forward, although kate’s comment embarrassingly made your stomach flip. she goes out of her way to chirp at you, but looks so good doing it.
“what’s her problem?” your teammate asked as she caught up to you.
shaking your head you told her, “i don’t know, we don’t even know each other that much.”
“well coach gave us our hotel details and we’re sharing a hotel with them tomorrow,” she informed, looking intently with concern.
you shot her a look with your eyebrows furrowed, “really?”
“yeah… if you run into her i swear to god,” your teammate huffed.
“it’s fine,” you said quickly, trying not to appear flustered at the thought of being in the same hotel as kate for a night.
walking into the locker room, your teammate looked at you like you were crazy, “fine? girl, kate borderline bullies you.”
laughing at her comment, you found yourself defending kate.
“‘bullying’ is a bit dramatic.”
“whatever,” and your teammate let it go.
———————————————————————-
the hotel was nothing special; a hilton in the middle of nowhere with assigned roommates. carrying in heavy bags was never easy, and they felt even heavier knowing that the basketball team was in the same building. as you walked into your room, all you could think about was kate. your teammates were ready to fight her, but all you wanted was to “accidentally” run into her. but for your friends’ sake, you played along with the hateful agenda.
“did we only get one room key?” your roommate asked.
you looked around the room, seeing only the one in your hand, “ummm i think so.”
sighing, she asked you to go back down to the lobby to get another room key. you agreed, making your way to the elevator and into the lobby. approaching the front desk, you noticed the basketball team’s bus had arrived. forcing yourself to look away from the girls exiting the bus and coming inside, you stepped up to the receptionist.
“hey can i get an extra room key for room num-“
you immediately stopped your words at the sound of the other athletes entering the lobby, loudly chatting and rolling their luggage.
“um...room 701 please,” you finished, taking the key from the receptionist and keeping your eyes away from the front doors. the effort to not see or be reminded of kate was in vain, for a familiar voice started from behind you.
“oh look who it is,” kate said to her friend, just loud enough for you to hear.
kate and her friend continued walking towards the elevators giggling about nothing, although she took one last glance at you from behind. she was not slick at all. you bit your tongue and approached the elevators, being too close for comfort to kate. the basketball girls took up both elevators, and you watched as they both filled and left you waiting for the next one alongside kate and one other random man. your stomach dropped at the unfortunate cutoff, knowing kate was going to take advantage of the moment.
out of the corner of your eye you saw kate staring at you. trying to suppress your breathing picking up, you prayed she would just say something, anything. sometimes you tried to deny you liked her, but it was times like these when your feelings for kate were only further confirmed. you felt your face grow hot.
“what are you so nervous for,” kate smirked.
you sighed out of annoyance and to catch your breath. facing her eye to eye, you probably looked like a deer in headlights. you tried to read her face, looking for something other than coldness, and you did find something every time you held the courage to look her in the eye. kate’s eyes glimmered as she waited for a response.
“just focusing on the game tomorrow,” you mumbled, half lying. maybe more than half.
kate shook her head, blowing air out of her nose with a light chuckle. the elevator door opened. you kept your head down and walked in, sensing kate following behind you. of course.
standing on opposite sides of the elevator, it was almost like you felt a magnetic force towards her. your mind raced, fantasizing about all the dirty things you’ve wanted for so long. the tension was thick. kate shamelessly stepped an inch closer to you, knowing exactly what she was doing.
“you know i’m just messing with you, right?”
you irritably side eyed her, no longer afraid to speak as long as she kept trying you.
“oh i’m just supposed to know that?”
kate pressed the “7” button and looked back at you, waiting for you to tell her your floor number. you rolled your eyes and shifted uncomfortably. it almost wasn’t surprising.
“we’re on the same damn floor,” you said, crossing your arms. your heart began beating even faster.
kate scoffed, her jaw dropping and turning into a dumb smile.
“no way,” she said, inching even closer to you, “what room number?” her arm was nearly touching yours and your breath hitched.
“why would i tell you that?”
she hummed as if she was thinking, and boldly shot back, “cause maybe i could get you in my room before the trip’s over.” she looked back at you, still with a knowing smile. you couldn’t hold back as a smile crept up your face, immediately looking the other way.
“yeah right,” you chirped, blushing wildly. your arms fell to your side.
“im just saying. you look so cute in that skirt of yours.”
“shut up,” you murmured.
it was like she was trying to make you pass out. the image of kate removing your black and yellow cheer skirt appeared in your mind, the tension now growing nearly unbearable. however, the elevator finally came to a stop on the seventh floor. with her hands propped on the rail behind her, kate brushed her hand against yours as she left the elevator. you followed behind her, but not too close. before walking opposite ways down the hall, kate couldn’t just let you have the last word.
“im serious, cheerleader.” kate raised her eyebrows, looking you up and down.
“we’ll see what happens.” —————————————————————————————————
the next day, iowa had won the basketball game 93-87. you cheered harder than before, with your eye on kate the entire game. if someone scored, you didn’t even notice unless it was kate. she made sure to lock eyes with you several times, whether you were taking a break on the floor or doing your latest routine. the way she held eye contact told you what you needed to know.
back at the hotel, everyone had to pack their things and move out. there wasn’t even enough time to change out of your uniform, as it was the exact time the hotel ordered guests to leave. you were turning around the corner of the hall when you heard someone call your name. whipping your head around, it was exactly who you had been waiting for.
kate wasted no time grabbing you by the wrist and leading you towards her room, no words needed. you smiled and bit your lip, only hoping that your teammates wouldn’t see you with her and ruin the moment. just as you were getting to kate’s room, you heard your coach yell a reminder.
“all cheerleaders on the cheer team must be in the lobby in less than five minutes,” your coach yelled from down and around the hall.
you stopped in your track in kate’s doorway, your mouth hung slightly open and adrenaline running.
“what are you doing, hurry come in,” kate urged.
“but i’m a cheerleader,” you said out of breath, starting to worry. if anyone cared, it was not kate.
“i know that, now come on,” kate now grabbing you by the hand.
she practically slammed the door shut, swiftly locking it. as soon as the door closed, you were pushed against the wall in a desperate kiss. kate couldn’t keep her hands off you, and immediately ran them up and down your waist. your back arched at the instant touch from kate, inevitably pushing your hips into hers. there was no way kate was going to spend less than five minutes with you. between kate’s kisses and words, she did not hold back.
“you’re so...fuckin’ sexy...” she breathlessly said, biting your bottom lip.
you moaned and grasped her hair that was now debris of a braided ponytail, eager for all of her. you both knew time was limited, and suddenly kate picked you up and put you down on the edge of the bed, only breaking the kiss to get on her knees. she placed her hands on each of your knees and looked up at you with her big blue eyes for approval. you nodded hurriedly, whispering for her to be quick. you began trying to remove your skirt, but kate’s hand flew to your wrist to push it away.
“keep it on baby,” she urged, simply pushing your skirt up. the tips of her fingers quickly found the lining of your panties, bringing them down and off your legs. it was like she disregarded your begs to be fast, because she took her time kissing the inside of your thighs and rubbing her hands on your waist. her kisses were intoxicating and she hadn’t even done anything yet. you threw your head back, desperate for more. kate agonizingly rubbed slow circles over your wetness, making you whimper and buck your hips up. she thoroughly enjoyed teasing you.
“you’ve been wanting me to fuck you for awhile, hmm? you damn near soaked your underwear baby.” kate’s words alone could’ve made you finish, her smooth voice echoing in your head as you screwed your eyes shut.
“kate, please...” you moaned out, “we’re gonna b-be la-“
as much as kate would’ve loved to keep you waiting, she moved on and plunged two fingers into your core. anything you could’ve said was cut off by the sensation of her long fingers fucking in and out of you, hitting your g spot every time. your stomach tensed and you almost screamed, but muffled it to a mere whimper. kate continued using her fingers with an unrelenting pace, keeping her face close to your heat.
“you gotta be quiet, princess,” kate said from between your thighs, although she truly didn’t care if anyone heard.
“you’re s-such an asshole,” you breathed.
“am i?”
kate’s tongue found your clit, circling it with perfect pressure and speed. it grew harder to stay quiet as your legs began to shake at kate’s combination of tongue and fingers. you hated how she treated you back at practice, but all the snarky things she said were quickly forgotten with the knot building up in your stomach. the pleasure grew greater and greater, not being able to help your legs closing around kate’s head.
“keep your legs open babe.”
you moaned feverishly at her words and the unforgiving pace she kept on your aching core. grasping at her hair, you were sure you were going to explode.
“kate i can’t take it,” you whimpered.
“yes you can,” kate said huskily against your pussy.
tears of pleasure began forming at the corners of your eyes, some spilling out. you cried that you were close, and kate gave you permission to let go. waves of pleasure rippled through your body as you released on her face, each exhale coming out as a moan.
“that’s it,” kate mumbled as she talked you through it, riding you out of your orgasm. your head was spinning and your core still throbbing when kate put your panties and shorts back on, wiping your tears away. she stood up in front of you.
“kate they’re gonna know,” you said looking up at her with your fucked out eyes.
she simply kissed you in response, a softer kiss this time. your lips were still puffy and tinging with slight pain from making out.
“here lemme...” kate mumbled as she began lifting you up from the bed. your legs felt weak as you stood next to her. when you tried to walk, you burst out laughing.
“i cant believe we just did that, kate look how i’m walking!”
“you’re fine, now let’s go,” kate giggled.
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archermind · 1 year ago
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I Can See You
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Spencer Reid x F!Reader - Smut (18+)
Description: “and we kept everything professional but something changed, it's something I like. They keep watchful eyes on us, so it's best if we move fast and keep quiet.”. You and Spencer are each other's dirty little secret, no one in the BAU knows what is going on between you both.
Word count: 1,800 approx.
Content Warning: Mentions of f!masturbation, kissing, PinV, Receiving Oral F, swearing, Fingering, dom!spencer, good girl, dirty talk
author note: okay.. so i tried writing a smut. idk how i feel about it. i read smut and think the things people write are really good but when i write it i always think it’s so bad. i hope it isn’t too bad. feel free to give me feedback! hope you enjoy <3
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Stolen glances and longing stares, that was how this all started. You and Spencer found yourselves sneaking between each other's hotel rooms while on cases, searching for comfort in a form of lust. The first time was supposed to be a one time thing… never to happen again. Yet, you couldn’t help yourself… you longed for his touch and he longed for yours. Your mind is forever replaying the first moment he made, the way he-
“Earth to Y/N!” Derek announced, waving his hands in front of my face.
“Oh, sorry” you mumbled, realizing your zoning out and complete oblivious state to the world around you.
“What has gotten into you girl” Derek scoffed
“More like who!” emily remarked, causing JJ to snicker “we have seen that extra pep in your step lately Y/N”
You shifted in your seat becoming anxious that people were going to crack onto what was going on between you and Reid. Everyday you were nervous to even look in Reid’s direction… It didn't help that everyone that surrounded you both were some of the best profilers you know. You rolled your eyes putting on a confident facade and prepared your fighting argument against Emily’s wrong, but so right, speculation. 
“Right everyone let’s just focus on the case” Hotch ordered, “Agent Y/N’s love life will just have to remain a mystery for you all until you solve this one”
“Oh c'mon Hotch, you are supposed to be on my side!” you called out desperately as everyone laughed, “i am reporting you all to HR for bullying on the job!”
“Boohoo babygirl!” Morgan said, pouting.
Throughout the rest of the flight you all spoke about the case, trying to build a profile upon the characteristics of the murder. Words like sadist and sociopath were thrown around while you yet again zoned out, this time focused on Reid and his soft snores. You had woken up, naked, to the sound of his snores a couple times now. Each time was just as good as the last. You found yourself counting down the time until you landed, wishing the minutes would go by fast. 
-
Landing came by painfully and slowly. Some time before the flight landed, Spencer had woken up. He seemed shifty and irritated. Not to mention, he could not take his eyes off of you. You felt yourself become more and more needy for him with every passing second. Clock watching made it worse. 
By the time you all arrived at the hotel that you were staying at, it was midnight. Everyone had no energy. The goodbyes and goodnights were a mix of mumbles and grumbles. Your room was right down the hall from Spencer. Emily and JJ across the hall, Morgan next door to Reid, and Hotch was one floor above us all. A dim pale yellow light tried to light the room as you walked through to the bathroom, a hot soak was well needed. Today had seemed to be so long and exhausting.
As you plunged yourself into the bubbles and warmth, you leant back allowing yourself to relax in the tub. Soap suds covered your body as you massaged your aching muscles. You moaned at the release you felt, free from tension that ached your body. As you were massaging your sore body, you felt your mind racing back to Dr. Spencer Reid and your hand inching further to the place you wanted him right now. As your hand grazed your core, you heard a ping to your phone. 
You sighed as the moment had been rudely interrupted and ruined. You grabbed your robe, exiting the tub and putting it over your body. Grasping your phone, your stomach fluttered. ‘Spence’. ‘I need you Y/N’. you bit back a smirk, knowing what was about to happen. ‘Don’t let them see you..’ you responded back. 
Quickly, you ran to the door ready to let the man you wanted most into your hotel room. It was scandalous and thrilling sneaking around with him. It was what you both needed while dealing with stressful cases. A source of release.. Mentally and physically. 
As you opened the door, the slender built boy slipped past quickly into the room to avoid being seen and perhaps questioned as to why he was entering his co-workers' hotel room at 1am. You closed the door silently and instantly you were pressed against it. Spencer’s lips fit yours perfectly. You felt his wet tongue swipe along your bottom lip, begging for entrance. It was heated and vulgar. The desperation for each other was filthy. Your tongues played war with each other until like always Spencer won dominance. You were like a putty in his hands, allowing him to take control of your every movement. 
“You don't understand how beautiful you looked all day” spencer rambled, “i've been wanting to get you alone and worship your body since i first laid eyes on you this morning” 
You moaned at his sweet nothings, moving your lips to trail down his neck as your hands played with the buttons on his shirt. You were eager to rid him of his clothes, eager for him. As your hand went down each button, you slowly freed him out of his shirt. You gasped, running your hands along his chest and to his lower abdomen. 
“I have missed you spence” you stated, breathlessly. 
He slowly walked you backwards towards the bed, peppering kisses around your face. You giggled at the childish move but felt adored. Slowly, he lowered you to lie on the bed and hooked his arms around your legs giving you a strong tug to the edge of the bed. 
“Trust me, Y/N not as much as i missed you doll” he smirked, undoing the tie on your robe. 
Your chest rose and fell fast. You lay there in front of him naked and for the taking. Allowing him to see the most vulnerable and insecure side of yourself. He slowly lowered himself allowing his mouth to come in contact with your soft skin. Spencer kissed and nipped with his teeth, your most sensitive areas. Your neck. Your collarbone. Your breasts. You couldn't help but let the moans fall from your lips. He chuckled at your reaction, knowing he had you exactly where he wanted.
Spencer caressed your left breast pinching your nipple. all while he licked, sucked and bit the right one. You felt wetness pool at your core. All. For. Him. slowly, you felt his nose brush down your abdomen as the pit of your stomach flipped. No matter how many late nights you spent together and how much you prepared yourself, you still got nervous when giving yourself to spencer. Even if he was cautious and gentle.
You squirmed and wriggled as you felt his hot breath on your clit. You were dripping with anticipation at this point. Spencer began to kiss each thigh, slowly working his way closer to the place you wanted him most. Soon enough, Spencer pressed his lips against your clit licking and biting. Slowly, he circled his tongue against your clit as you became more and more sensitive with each lap. Your hand tangled in his brown curls, causing him to moan in response. You cried out in pleasure as he inserted two fingers into you and began pumping in and out of your dripping cunt. 
“Fuck spencer” you breathed out.
“Does that feel good Y/N?” he questioned you, already knowing the answer from the way you were a mess below him. 
“Mhm” you mumbled. 
Spencer pulled away from your clit and took his fingers out from with you, gripping your thighs and turning you on your stomach. You heard his zipper become undone. You looked back and bit your bottom lip suppressing a moan as you saw him in nothing but his underwear. You could see his hard bulge and it made you even more desperate for him.
“Look at you so needy!” Spencer whispered, grabbing a condom from his jean pocket. 
You eyed him up and down as his teeth ripped the small packet open. 
“Hurry… im so fucking desperate” you were a wreck as you tried to speak your wants, “i do need you spencer” 
“Good girls wait” he remarked
You watched him slowly slide the rubber on his hard length, he held a strong eye contact with yours. Enjoying the way you watched him, eagerly waiting for him. You bit your lip hard trying to suppress your moans - considering your co-workers were just down the hall and above you. You hissed in pleasure and pain when Spencer unexpectedly forced his entire length into you without warning. 
It was raw and animalistic the way you both wanted eachother, needed eachother and fucked eachother. Spencer Reid was a quiet boy. Yet, who you now grew to know and spend time with, you saw him in a much different light. He was a gentle, passionate man who adored and cared for you. Reid didnt just use you for sex… he worshipped your body while he fucked you. 
The room was filled with the sound of your breathless moans and the sound of your skin meeting each other. Spencer was deep inside you and with every stroke he made in and out of you, you grew closer to your release. 
“You feel so fucking good Y/N” spencer moaned as he flipped you onto your back, allowing him to watch your face as he fucked you senseless. 
You tried responding but you were a moaning mess. No words could be formed. You were drunk on Spencer’s cock. With every thrust, your tits bounced, sending Spencer's mind on a spiral. 
“You look so fucking good taking my cock, doll” spencer exclaimed, as his hand connected with your clit rubbing small quick circles. 
You felt your stomach ball as you grew closer to your orgasm. You cried in pleasure as he thrusted deeper and slower, hitting your g-spot each time. 
“I- fuck- please spence” you begged him growing more sensitive to his touch and nearing your finish. 
“I know Y/N” he grunted as he entered in and out of you, feeling closer to his orgasm each time, “cum for me” 
You cried out at your release, digging your nails down Spencer's back for some stability on the edge of your pleasure. Your ears rang out from the overwhelming stimulation, while Spencer rode out to his orgasm. It came quickly as he collapsed tired and breathless onto your chest. Time passed as you two lay tangled within each other's arms, trying to calm down from your high.
“Y/N?” he questioned
“Yea” you huffed out
“I’m glad you joined the Quantico BAU team” he stated letting out a breathy laugh
“Yeah me too” you smirked, “the benefits are pretty good too.”
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drabblesandsnippets · 6 months ago
Text
Confidence, Part 1
Hot Bucky Summer 2024 - Week 2
Pairing: Sex Worker!Bucky Barnes x Plus-size female character (unnamed)
Prompt: “What should I call you?” | [Master | Alpha | Pet] @buckybarnesevents
Summary: (7k) AU Bucky is a full-service sex worker who enjoys helping women become more confident in their sexuality.
Warnings: 18+ Only. Mention of an ex-boyfriend. Mention of insecurities/body image. Pet names (sweetheart, baby). Lots of asking for consent. Teasing. Dirty talk. Praise. Issues climaxing. Oral & fingering (f receiving).
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The end of a long-term relationship had led her here. Years of unhappiness. Years of feeling unsatisfied by her ex. Years of wishing things would change. 
After she finally found the courage to end things, the breath of relief she thought would come never did. Instead, she was left feeling lost, insecure, and unsure about what she wanted or who she even was.
That’s when a friend referred her to Bucky. 
A full-service sex worker who came highly recommended. A man who believes that there’s something inherently beautiful about everyone.
“I’ve worked with all types of women,” he assured her, “and I’ve found every single one of them attractive.”
It sounded like a line, but all the evidence pointed to the contrary. 
Bucky’s not just doing this to make money. He truly enjoys what he does. The physical part of it, sure - he wouldn’t be doing it if he didn’t - but, it’s the emotional aspect that keeps bringing him back.
There’s nothing like the rush he gets from watching a woman find her confidence and blossom under his guidance. That moment when they finally feel comfortable enough to let go of their inhibitions and learn to trust themselves.
It’s a heady feeling, knowing he’s changing their lives forever, and it’s not something he takes lightly.
Over the last few weeks of emails, texts, and phone calls, she found it easy to talk to Bucky about what she wanted out of this experience. Sex is supposed to be fun, and she wants to be able to enjoy herself without worrying about how she looks or if she’s doing the wrong thing.
Even during the more personal topics, like when they discussed what her sex life was like with her ex, Bucky never made her feel ashamed or judged. Her lack of experience and seemingly lack of enthusiasm for certain acts, due to her ex, didn’t make him blink an eye.
If anything, it made Bucky more intrigued to work with her. She was a puzzle he was going to enjoy help figuring out.
Despite his intimidating appearance - his well-defined muscles and the abundance of tattoos, his entire left arm covered in intricate designs - his charismatic personality keeps her relaxed.
His easy-going nature helps her open up as they sit on the couch in the beautifully decorated hotel room, giving her the courage to blurt out a question, a faint blush spreading across her cheeks when she does.
“What should I call you?”
During their last conversation, Bucky had asked her something similar, curious if she would enjoy being called something other than her name. She settled on a few things, but they never discussed what - if anything - she should call him.
With a tilt of his head, and a warm smile, he tells her, “You can call me whatever you’d like.” 
The hand that’s been resting on the back of the couch finally moves closer to her, his fingers just inches from her shoulder, making her breath hitch.
“Try not to overthink it,” he continues, his hand drifting closer as his smile turns playful. “Let the throes of passion guide you. I’m good with anything, really. ‘Bucky’. ‘Baby’. ‘Sir’. ‘Daddy’, if that’s your kink.”
She immediately laughs, the pink on her cheeks darkening as she shakes her head at him. She’s just starting to figure out what she might like with a partner, she’s not ready to even consider the last two options. 
Bucky’s grin grows and he nods his head in understanding, happy to see that his teasing tone is helping to relax her a bit more. It encourages him to shift a bit closer, his knee just barely brushing against her thigh. 
Their layers of clothing do nothing to dampen the rush of arousal she suddenly feels, and she waits with baited breath as his hand hovers over her shoulder, his fingertips almost close enough to touch her shirt.
“Can I touch you?”
It’s such a simple question, but it’s in this moment that she finally understands the phrase ‘consent is sexy.’
There’s something so incredibly intimate and arousing about Bucky asking for permission, despite the obvious reason he’s here. 
He accepts the slight nod of her head and the soft whisper of ‘yes’ for now. Eventually, he’ll help her find her voice and figure out how to ask for what she wants.
Until then, he needs to find a balance between her obvious desire for more and showing her that it’s okay to go slow.
She deserves to have someone take their time with her, to learn her body, to help her figure out what brings her pleasure. 
She knows what she likes when she’s by herself - that’s never been the problem - it’s allowing herself to be vulnerable with someone that’s the issue. She’s always struggled with being able to fully enjoy the moment, and she’s trusting Bucky to help her learn how to do that.
Goosebumps spread across her skin at the first brush of his thumb along the soft curve where her shoulder meets her neck. A soft exhale and a flutter of her eyelashes tells him all he needs to know, but he still asks, his voice a low murmur.
“Is this okay?”
She’s quick with her answer. A slight nod before she tilts her head, wanting him to keep going. He’s more than happy to, his eyes roaming along her body as he caresses her neck, taking in all the subtle ways her body responds to her touch.
“Does that feel good?”
It shouldn’t make her laugh, but it does. Bucky doesn’t take offense though, just watches her with a grin on his face, his hand never leaving her. 
“Why does it turn me on when you ask questions like that?” She’s surprised she manages to get the words out, but any nerves that threaten to consume her are immediately alleviated when Bucky’s smile grows.
She can practically feel how proud he is of her for asking.
He was already excited about working with her, but this just solidifies it. He can’t wait to watch her come out of her shell even more. 
As his thumb dips down to trace over her collarbone, he tells her, “I think it’s because it shows you that I care about what you want. That your pleasure is important to me.”
After an audible swallow, and a steadying breath, she admits, “I think I just also like hearing your voice.”
Her confession makes Bucky laugh, the smile reaching his eyes, and he nods his head, “Good to know.” He shifts just a bit closer on the couch, his leg resting against hers, his thumb slowly following a path up to her chin. “Does that mean you wanna try some dirty talk?”
She immediately blushes again, but with his thumb caressing the curve of her throat, she’s forced to keep her head held high. 
It manages to give her a boost of confidence, and she lets out a soft laugh, confessing, “Oh god, I’d be terrible at it.”
Bucky chuckles along with her but shakes his head. “Oh don’t worry, you wouldn’t have to say a thing.” His thumb brushes over her chin, almost close enough to touch her lip. “I’d enjoy just watching your reactions.”
He always seems to know just what to say to ease her worries before they can even start. The moment his eyes glance at her mouth, her lips part, and she leans in, just a fraction of an itch. 
The smile on Bucky’s face brightens, and he shifts again, mirroring her movements, but he’s not going to kiss her just yet, wanting the anticipation to build a little more. Instead, he repeats his question, softly asking her, “Do you want me to talk dirty to you?”
The slight shudder that rolls through her would make her feel embarrassed if it wasn’t for the hungry look he’s giving her. Her reactions are turning him on, and it helps her find her voice again.
“Yes.” 
With a tender touch, Bucky tucks her hair behind her ear, and all her senses are suddenly flooded by him - the smell of him, the heat of him, the sound of his voice whispering in her ear.
“Do you want me to praise you?” The question catches her off guard, but she’s suddenly aware of the way her nipples tighten, especially when he asks, “Can I tell you how good you’re doing?”
She wants his attention. She wants to be comfortable with someone complimenting her and praising her. So, with a slow nod of her head, she whispers another soft, “yes.”
But, Bucky hears the difference this time. The word just a bit louder, a bit more confident. She’s trying her hardest to allow herself to face her fears, and he wants her to know that he sees her. That he’s proud of how far she’s already come.
After getting her permission to touch more of her, he takes her hand in his, stroking his thumb across her palm, listening to the change in her breath. Without ever pulling away, he keeps talking, his mouth almost close enough to touch her ear.
“You’re doing so good for me.” 
The praise makes warmth pool in her belly and the softest noise of pleasure escapes her. 
“Oh,” he murmurs, his touch sliding higher, the pad of his thumb tracing the inside of her wrist. “I like that sound.”
She feels like she’s dreaming. Bucky’s barely started touching her, and she can already feel the wetness between her thighs, the ache for more.
“Let’s see what other kind of noises you can make for me,” he says, his soft beard brushing against her jaw. With one hand stroking up her forearm, his other hand slides into her hair to support her head, giving him better access.
She’s sure her heart is beating loud enough for him to hear, but she makes no move to pull away, not wanting to give him any reason to stop. Her head is flooded with thoughts of what he’s going to do, how he’s going to touch her, but he still takes her by surprise.
Just the softest brush of Bucky’s lips against her cheek before he’s asking, “is this okay?” and she’s a mess. 
She doesn’t even recognize the sound that comes out of her, and without thinking, she reaches for him, her fingers trailing over the front of his shirt.
Bucky rewards her confidence with another soft kiss along her jaw, and she suddenly decides to jump in with both feet, asking him, “Will you kiss me?” 
The question’s been building all evening, trying to work its way out of her, and his reaction to it makes her wonder why she was hesitant to start with.
“Absolutely.” The way he says it, like he’s just been waiting for her, makes her laugh softly, and he grins as he pulls back just enough to meet her gaze. “I would love to kiss you.” 
And the way he kisses her makes her believe him. His mouth soon coaxing hers open, his tongue seeking permission to deepen the kiss, a soft groan rumbling deep in his chest in response to the taste of her. 
It’s all so new and exciting, but somehow Bucky’s able to make it feel familiar and comfortable. And for the first time in what feels like forever, she’s not in her head about what’s happening or what she’s supposed to be doing. 
She’s just living in the moment, making out with an incredibly hot guy, welcoming his weight on top of her. 
If there was ever any doubt that he was enjoying himself, it’s erased when he settles between her thighs, letting her feel how turned on he is.
The moan she makes in return just makes him harder, and he leans up, meeting her gaze, a soft smile on his lips. As much as Bucky's enjoying kissing her, he wants to hear her, watch her as the pleasure takes over. 
She’s not sure who moves first, but with a slight tilt of her hips, the hard length of him is suddenly pressed right against her clit, eliciting a soft gasp from her. 
It shouldn’t feel as good as it does, the two of them still completely dressed, but the moment he starts to move against her, her back is already arching, her body seeking out more.
Bucky doesn’t take his eyes off of her, watching her closely. She doesn’t even realize it, but she’s the one setting the pace here. He’s just following her lead, matching her movements with his own, wanting her to show him what feels good to her.
When he can see the attention he’s giving her is starting to overwhelm her, he closes the distance, placing soft kisses along her jaw, giving her time to relax all over again. 
With a soft moan right against her ear, he tells her, “You feel so good like this.” His fingers tighten in her hair at her reaction, her tense thighs and lift of her hips causing his cock to throb between them. “Can you feel how hard I am for you?”
“Oh god,” she breathes, grinding harder against him, his words sending a burst of pleasure straight to her clit. With her hands pressed against his back, fisting his shirt, she quickly nods her head, whispering, “Yes. Please.”
That’s the word he’s been waiting for. 
Please. 
Bucky’s free hand travels down to her thigh, guiding her to lift her leg just a bit higher. The new position makes her gasp and he groans against her neck, asking her, “Please, what?” 
Her body shudders as he starts moving again, the increased pressure between her thighs making her breath catch. She doesn’t even know what she’s asking for. She just holds onto him, her hips moving a bit faster, the pleasure building inside of her.
Bucky still wants an answer, but he doesn’t pressure her for one. He follows her lead, listening to her gasps and moans get louder with each thrust of his hips against hers. He’s pretty sure this might be enough to make her come.
The same thought is running through her head, but it’s not long before the moment starts to catch up with her. 
The way she’s starting to sweat underneath her clothes, the way her heavy breathing has caused her throat to go dry, the way her foot keeps slipping off the edge of the couch as she tries to find purchase.
This time it doesn’t surprise her when his voice interrupts her thoughts, asking her, “Can you tell me what you need?” All he wants is for her to be comfortable, and if she’s not feeling this anymore, he’s more than happy to find something that works for her.
She knows what she needs. The only problem is that it’s the one thing that’s been giving her the most anxiety about this night. 
Being naked with him. Being vulnerable. Having to trust him to prove to her that she deserves to have someone bring her pleasure.
Bucky is more than up for the challenge though. His entire goal for the night is to show her how good it can be to have someone take care of her. To show her how much pleasure someone can bring her, if she just allows herself to connect with them.
Soon, he’s leading them to stand at the foot of the bed, taking his time to get her to relax against him, drawing her into a kiss that leaves them both breathless. 
And with just a bit of encouragement, she’s makes the first move, slowly lifting his shirt over his head. While her hands start exploring his newly exposed skin, tracing the lines of the tattoos that cover his shoulder and left arm, he pulls her into another kiss, groaning against her mouth. 
She doesn’t know what’s come over her. She’s never felt this confident before, refusing to overthink how she’s touching him, letting her desire for him guide her. It’s opening her up to so many possibilities, the memory of their conversations about boundaries and kinks suddenly flashing through her mind.
As she encourages him to help her out of her shirt, she softly asks him, “What if I change my mind about something we’ve already discussed?”
It’s clear to Bucky that she’s not asking about things she’s already said she wants, and he takes a moment to consider her question, appreciating the way her nipples strain against her bra.
It’s not lost on him that she makes no move to try to cover up or hide herself from him.
After he gives her another kiss, he meets her gaze, watching her as his finger traces along her bra strap, the back of his fingers brushing across the swell of her breast. 
He smiles when her lips part, her breath quickening, and he whispers, “Then you tell me. Tonight’s about learning to ask for what you want.”
She nods her head slowly, but her voice leaves her for a moment. Her entire focus is on his touch, his fingers teasing along the edge of her bra, the occasional brush of his skin against hers making her dizzy with need. She’s not sure she’s ever been this turned on before, especially not during foreplay.
“What is it you think you might want?” 
Bucky remembers everything she said no to - everything she knew she wouldn’t like, or didn’t want to try - and he can’t ignore the rush of excitement at the thought that he’s made her comfortable enough to try something she wasn’t sure about before.
It’s not until she’s helped him out of his jeans, leaving him in just his boxer briefs, that she finally figures out how to voice her desires. It helps that he chooses the same moment to kneel in front of her to undo her jeans, the soft brush of his fingers against her stomach bringing her nothing but pleasure.
“I did what you suggested,” she begins, her hand resting on his shoulder as he starts to lower her jeans, his eyes briefly looking up at her, a pleased smirk on his face as he reveals the matching panties to her bra. “The other night,” she whispers, watching as he slowly undresses her, helping her step out of her jeans. “I tasted myself.”
Bucky doesn’t know what he was expecting, but it’s not that. 
His hands immediately reach up to hold her hips, his thumbs dipping underneath the waistband of her panties as he lets out a soft groan. The image of her alone in her own bed, touching herself, tasting herself for the first time has him silently praying that this is going where he thinks it is.
He somehow manages to keep his composure and looks up at her, his eyes dark with desire, but his voice steady. “What did you think?”
She’s the one that brought this up, but her skin still grows warm and a soft laugh comes out of her. She’s trying so hard not to overthink all of this - to not let her insecurities start to overwhelm her.
Bucky helps her through this moment, like he’s done all evening. Still kneeling in front of her, he slides his hands down her thick thighs and gently asks, “Do you like the way you taste?” 
Her first reaction is to give him a slight shrug, her eyes looking past him. But he quickly gets her attention, finding a sensitive spot along the back of her thigh, the graze of his fingers causing her breath to shudder out of her. 
It has the desired effect, and she nods her head, whispering, “Yes.”
Bucky continues watching her as he caresses the back of her thighs, marveling at the way it causes obvious pleasure to ripple through her, her eyes fluttering closed.
“Do you think I’d like the way you taste?”
There’s no doubt in his mind that he will, but this isn’t really about him. Bucky needs her to get there on her own, to believe that someone wants all of her. 
She wants to shrug again. To brush off his question and keep her eyes closed, pretending that he’s not watching her right now. But, she can’t. That’s not why she’s here. That’s not why Bucky is here. 
After she forces herself to take a slow, deep breath, she finally opens her eyes and looks down at him. The confidence she wishes for isn’t there yet, but she’s able to answer him honestly. 
A soft whisper of, “I’m not sure.” And then, a barely audible utterance of, “Maybe.”
Without hesitation, his hands slide up the outside of her thighs, returning to her hips, his fingers tracing along the edge of her panties. “Do you want me to taste you?” 
She forgets how to breathe, air getting trapped in her lungs as she tries not to look away. She just needs to ask for what she wants. It should be easy by now. She’s already standing in front of him in just her bra and underwear, letting him see the bits of her that she’s uncomfortable with.
But, for a moment, the words still don’t come. Her hands remain on his shoulders, her nails lightly scratching along his tattooed skin as she tries to refocus. This time, Bucky remains quiet. He just continues to look up at her, giving her as much time as she needs to show him she’s ready for this.
This is something her ex never volunteered to do, and she was always too shy to ask, but she doesn’t want to be shy anymore. 
She wants to own her sexuality. She wants to be able to ask for what she wants in her next relationship, even new things she might not even know she wants yet.
With a slight nod of her head, and another trembling breath, she tells him, “Yes. I want… I want that.” 
Bucky doesn’t move yet. The look he gives her conveys how proud he is of her, but he wants to hear her say the actual words. Instead of just expecting her to know what to say, he asks her, “What do you want, sweetheart?”
She swallows the nervous laughter that threatens to spill out and takes a moment to close her eyes, trying to compose herself. How can such a simple term of endearment cause her so much pleasure? 
That’s not what she says though. When her mouth opens, the words come before she can overthink them. “I want you to taste me.”
“Oh, good girl.” Bucky’s growl of praise almost has her collapsing into a puddle, but his hands on her hips keep her steady. Not wanting to lose the momentum she’s building, he slides his hands up her back to her bra, asking her, “Can I take this off?”
She’s already made it this far, the intensity of her insecurities starting to lessen each time she reveals more of herself to him. With a nod of her head, she gives him permission, unable to look away as he slowly unhooks her bra, his fingers immediately rubbing along the indentations left behind.
The soft moan of relief she makes has him grinning up at her, and he slowly slides the straps down her arms, giving her a moment to adjust to this new level of vulnerability.
With his gaze still on her face, he tosses her bra aside to join the rest of their clothes and softly asks her, “Can I touch you?”
“Yes, please.” The words come easily this time, despite her nerves trying to get the better of her. She’s insecure about her breasts, gravity having caught up to her before she thought it would, and she finds herself wanting his approval.
In reality, it doesn’t matter what he thinks of her body, but he’s more than happy to help her see what he sees.
Matching his pace of the entire evening, his fingers brush along the sides of her breasts, the feather-light touch causing her nipples to pebble.
“You’re gorgeous,” he tells her, unable to tear his gaze away from the way her body immediately arches towards his touch.
Bucky’s given her no reason to doubt his words, and the moment he cups her breast in his hand, her fingers slide into his hair as if to guide him closer.
He doesn’t make her ask for it this time, and she barely registers his breath on her skin before his tongue flicks out to lick her nipple.
The sound she makes causes his cock to twitch and he wastes no time trying to bring more of those noises out of her.
With his heavily-tattooed arm wrapped around her to support her, he immediately closes his lips around the erect bud, his free hand moving to her other nipple. 
It’s like he’s on a mission to see just how loud he can make her get before she demands more from him.
It doesn’t take long, her body trembling against him, both her hands in his hair, tugging at the strands.
“Bucky,” she moans, meeting his gaze as he switches sides, his fingers now playing with her saliva-slick nipple. 
All he does is grin at her in return, the gentle scrape of his teeth giving her the last push she needs. He can practically see the last of her walls starting to crumble, and as he sucks her nipple into his mouth, she manages to surprise him yet again.
“Please,” she pleads, unable to hide how breathless he’s already made her. “I want you to taste me.”
“Oh fuck,” Bucky groans against her breast. He immediately pulls back and slides his hand up to wrap his fingers around her throat, his tender touch adding to her pleasure. “Is that what you need, baby? You want me to lick your pussy?”
All it takes is a quick confirmation from her and he’s guiding her onto the bed, more than ready to show her what she’s been missing out on. 
Within just a few moments, he has her naked and writhing underneath him, his mouth starting at her neck, taking his time to kiss down her soft curves.
By the time he’s placing kisses along her inner thighs, she’s forgotten about all the reasons why she almost didn’t ask for this. All thoughts about her ex-boyfriend are gone, as are her insecurities, and she runs her fingers through his hair, whining softly, “Please.”
Bucky will never tire of hearing that word. And with one last glance up at her, he helps her push her thighs back a bit more, giving him the perfect view of her pussy. 
“Mmm.” The groan that leaves him makes her pulse, her hips shifting underneath his hold, and he lets out a soft chuckle. “Eager, are we?” he teases, taking a moment to give her thigh another soft kiss, his beard tickling her pussy.
The question should make her blush - and any other time it would - but Bucky’s good at what he does. He’s somehow made her comfortable enough that not only does she not blush, she actually laughs. With a grin on her face, she quickly nods her head and tells him, “Yes. I am.”
Bucky’s so proud of her. She’s already come so far, and he quickly praises her with a soft rumble of, “Good girl.” 
And then he’s rewarding her, the slow swipe of his tongue along her slit immediately reducing her to a low whine of, “Oh my god.” He repeats the action, licking her from her dripping entrance up to her clit, teasing the bud with just the tip of his tongue.
“Oh my god.” She’s not sure she knows how to say anything else right now. She’s barely breathing at this point anyway, her entire body tense with anticipation.
And then he has the nerve to pull away, giving her another grin to tell her, “You were right.” 
She blinks, her hands fisting the sheets, her legs already shaking. All she can think about is having his mouth back on her pussy. She has no clue what he’s talking about.
“You taste so fucking good.”
Oh.
She’s not sure she even says anything, but it doesn’t matter because he dips his head back down and gets back to work, tasting her again.
Bucky alternates between long, slow licks and sliding his tongue deep inside of her, wiggling the muscle along her walls. He’s paying attention to all the ways she reacts to what he’s doing, repeating every action that makes her moan or shudder.
She gets lost in the moment, unsure of what to do with her hands, one gripping the sheets while the other holds her ankle, keeping herself spread for him. 
She can feel her pleasure building, but the longer he’s between her thighs, the more her insecurities start to resurface. Maybe this isn’t going to happen. No one’s been able to make her come before.
She’s always been responsible for her own orgasm, and while Bucky seems confident in his abilities, her doubt is starting to creep back up. 
When he returns his attention back to her clit, Bucky dragging the flat of his tongue over the bundle of nerves, she whispers his name. She feels compelled to apologize, like she’s wasting his time, but the only thing she can get out is, “I can’t.”
He pauses, but doesn’t pull his hands away, his fingers slick with her arousal as he looks up at her. Recognizing the confusion and embarrassment on her face, he realizes one crucial mistake he’s made. 
Bucky indulges himself with one more lick before he sets her at ease, explaining, “I’m not trying to make you come yet, baby. I just wanted to taste you, see what you like first.” His thumb teases over her clit as he kisses the soft skin of her inner thigh and asks her, “Is that okay?”
Just like that, he manages to get her back into the right headspace.
After a slow nod of her head, he’s bringing her pleasure again, exploring every inch of her pussy. He's enjoying taking his time, finding all the ways she likes to be touched, learning her body so he can give her what she needs. 
He’s also teasing her. Using his knowledge to make her more desperate. He hopes to get her to the point where she can ask for everything she wants without having to get this overwhelmed.
After his mouth moves away from her clit to lick across her entrance, he hears the change in her breathing. His quick glance shows him that her hands have moved to her tits, her fingers tugging at her nipples, and it tells him everything he needs to know.
Bucky returns his tongue to her clit, slowly circling the swollen bud before closing his lips around it, the soft suction causing her back to arch and she quickly nods her head, whispering, “oh god, please.”
But he pulls away again, her soft gasping whine proving he’s on the right track. She’s almost there. Just another quick tease of his tongue sliding inside of her, then back to suckling on her clit. That’s all it takes.
Her hand comes down to his head, fingers gripping his hair, as she breathlessly begs him, “Yes. Please. Just like that.”
This time, Bucky doesn’t move or pull away. He groans against her, unable to stop his hips from grinding against the mattress, her words sending pleasure straight to his cock. 
With each flick of his tongue, her noises get louder, the coil in her belly growing tighter.
She might actually come from this. Bucky might actually be able to make her come. 
That’s all she can think about. 
One hand in his hair, the other back to white-knuckling the sheet, using it for leverage to grind herself against his mouth. She can feel the pressure building, her muscles growing taut, her legs shaking uncontrollably. 
She’s going to come.
“Oh my god,” she whispers, seemingly unable to say anything else again. But Bucky still doesn’t change anything he’s doing, staying exactly where he is, his tongue never stopping. “Oh my god,” she repeats, nodding her head, desperate for this to happen.
It’s her downfall.
Just when she thinks it’s finally going to happen for her, the feeling suddenly starts to fade. The whine that leaves her, coupled with the frustrated, “No” has her quickly covering her flushed face.
The last thing Bucky wants is for her to think she’s done anything wrong. Or, even worse, that there’s something wrong with her. Because, there isn’t.
“Shhh,” he soothes her, peppering kisses along her thighs. His thumb returns to her clit, Bucky wanting to keep her pleasure building towards that peak again, and he tells her, “It’s okay. Sometimes we can get in our head. And sometimes... it’s just because we need more.”
She’s able to lower her hands away from her face to look down at him. It’s obvious he’s still enjoying himself, and all he wants is for her to be right there with him. It still takes her a moment of slow breathing for her to finally nod her head at him.
“Can you tell me what you think you need right now?” His slick thumb glides over her clit again before dipping down between her folds, teasing across her entrance. 
Her body immediately responds, her hips seeking out more, wanting him inside of her. 
Bucky tilts his head and raises an eyebrow at her, the smile on his face growing. “Tell me what you need, sweetheart.” 
It does the trick. With another shift of her hips, and more teasing pressure from his thumb, she nods her head. She doesn’t know how, but the words spill out of her without a second thought. “Fuck me, please.”
It takes every once of his control not to immediately let his thumb sink inside of her. She’s so wet, just begging to be filled, but it’s the perfect time to get her to verbalize her needs.
Bucky sits up on his knees just a bit, circling his thumb against her entrance before sliding it back up to her clit. He interrupts her needy whine with, “How do you want me to fuck you?”
She knows what he’s doing. And she’s incredibly grateful for it. Between quick and shallow breaths, she tells him, “With your fingers. Please.”
He tests her resolve, watching her closely as he starts to rub his thumb against her again, almost pushing inside of her. She immediately shakes her head and he pauses, a grin lighting up his face.
Bucky doesn’t even have to ask, she’s more than willing to tell him exactly what she wants. Her words coming quickly. “Please. Fuck me with your fingers. Two of them.”
His growl of praise immediately floods her brain, causing pleasure to radiate from her core. “Oh good girl,” he tells her, more than ready to give her what she wants,  “I’m so proud of you.” 
The cry that comes out of her as he fills her is unlike anything she’s ever made before. Her back arches and she reaches for him, grabbing his tattooed hand as his two thick fingers immediately find the spot that always seemed to allude others.
Bucky has every intention of tasting her again, planning to make her come with his mouth on her clit while he fucks her with his fingers.
He just wants to take a moment to watch her, enjoying the way the curl of his fingers causes her to gasp. His own body throbbing with pleasure as he strokes along her front wall, drawing more noises from her.
“You are so fucking hot,” he moans, interlocking their fingers as his gaze travels along her body from her thighs to her face, his cock leaking pre-cum at the sight of her.
When she’s able to accept his compliment without looking away, he increases the pressure, listening to the sounds of her wetness fill the air. 
She’s finally at that point that he promised she’d get to. Where she feels nothing but pleasure, able to bask in the connection they’re sharing.
“I wanna come for you.” There’s nothing quiet about her request, even as she struggles to get the words out between her soft gasps and moans.
“You really are incredible,” he tells her, eagerly returning to his earlier position, his head between her thighs. 
With his fingers still deep inside of her, he presses his tattooed arm against her thigh and places his palm flat against her lower stomach, using his fingers to spread her, exposing her clit.
She welcomes his touch, not a care in the world about how exposed she feels or how his hand digs into her soft belly. In fact, she doesn’t care how she looks at all. All she cares about his how close his mouth is to her pussy again, the feel of his warm breath making her whisper, “Please.”
Bucky glances up at her, a serious look on his face, quieting her pleading for the moment. 
“There’s no rush here, do you understand?” He accepts the slight nod of her head before continuing, a smile twitching at the corner of his mouth. “If I need a break, I’ll tell you. Until then,” his raises his eyebrows in excitement, “let’s just enjoy ourselves, yeah?”
She’s quick to agree, forcing herself to relax, resting her head against the pillow. She doesn’t even try to keep her eyes open anymore, the return of his tongue to her clit practically making her forget her name. 
With the pressure of his fingers inside of her, rubbing against her g-spot, there’s suddenly not a doubt in her mind that Bucky’s going to make her come.
It still rushes up on her quickly, her senses completely overloaded - the obscene noises his mouth makes against her clit, the slight scratch of his beard on her pussy, the smell of sex lingering in the air.
“I’m gonna come,” she gasps, one hand on her breast, the other on his head, gripping his hair. “Please don’t stop.”
He actually has the audacity to laugh against her, but he has no intentions of stopping. The rhythm of his tongue never changes, Bucky already knowing exactly how to lick her to get her there. 
She allows herself to be consumed by the pleasure he’s giving her, and the moment her hips start to move faster against him, her thighs threatening to close, the groan he makes causes her to fall over the edge.
Bucky keeps her held down, even as her body bucks against him, using his strength to keep his mouth on her clit and his fingers buried inside of her. 
She’s so tight, barely allowing fingers to move at all, but it doesn’t matter, he just keeps stroking her g-spot, prolonging her pleasure as long as she’ll let him. 
It feels like it lasts forever, her body riding out the waves until she’s left a wrecked, trembling mess, incoherent words escaping her lips.
Once Bucky’s sure she’s had as much as she can take, he quickly kisses up her body to pull her into his arms. She wraps herself around him, clinging to him, burying her face against him as he soothes her with soft words of praise.
“You did so good for me.”
“Such a good girl.”
“I’m so proud of you.”
“Thank you for trusting me.”
As her body starts to relax, she welcomes his mouth on hers, moaning at the taste of her arousal on his lips. It makes her want more and it’s not long before her hips move underneath him, grinding herself against his covered erection.
Bucky rests his forehead against hers and lets out his own moan of pleasure, his neglected cock wanting nothing more than to fuck her and feel her come. He won’t do anything unless she asks for it though.
The look she’s giving him tells him she knows exactly what’s going through his mind. But, she doesn’t ask him to fuck her. Not yet.
First, she asks for something else - something she thought she wouldn’t want to do, her request catching Bucky off guard, causing his hips to thrust against her.
“Can I suck your cock?”
---------------------------
Next Part
Hot Bucky Summer Masterlist
Main Masterlist
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imaginesig · 5 months ago
Text
“I was enchanted to meet you”
Kimi Antonelli x Norris!Reader
SMAU + Written parts
You’re Lando Norris’s little sister (18) and a spark flares up with a notable F2 driver (18) , how does everything go down?
Bonus: “I had the best day with you today”
I wanted to state that as I’m writing this I am 17 years old, on top of that I am an American. I do not know how to be 17/18 as a Brit so I did a bit of research but I’m not 100% confident. I gave Y/n an internship bc I assumed she’d be at the end of her secondary schooling. Sorry if that’s wildly off base.
~~~
A laugh erupted from my chest as a balled up sucky note made contact with Kimi’s forehead. I quickly grab my takeout lid to block his response attack. Only when I heard the ball make contact with the plastic did I relax my shield. On the other side, Kimi laid out on my hotel bed in sleep pants and a racing sweatshirt. His messy curls barely moved as he laughed. The soft light of the hotel lamp illuminated the scene like some kind of dream.
In here, it was a dream. No pressure, loud engines, cruel media, or annoying deadlines tainting the scene. It was authentic; our looks to each other were obvious, no sneaky glances.
In one smooth motion I moved from the desk chair to the opposite side of the bed from him. Propped up on my side, I mustered my best reporter voice, “So Mr. Antonelli, you've touched down in beautiful Barcelona a few hours ago and are gearing up for the weekend. The Spanish Grand Prix is known for its special conditions: corners of varying speeds, high chance of tyre wear, and many openings for overtakes. How confident are you in the car for this weekend? Any good strategies in the works to take advantage of rough tyre conditions the other teams will face?
Kimi and I laughed so hard we both turned red, “Well Ms. Norris it looks like someone’s done their homework.”
“It is my job” I shrug, “I also just love turn 9. I quite literally look forward to it every year.”
“Of course you love the hard one,” Kimi pulled his arm out from under his weight and fell into the bed.
“No sir, you have to go. Dont get comfortable,” I said.
“Y/n” kimi whines.
“No,” I laugh, “you need to go back to your own room.” With a huff and a few more comments Kimi is reminded of the reality outside of the hotel room, one where he has to return to his own room and wake up alone. With a hug and kiss, Kimi is on his way and I turn back to start cleaning up. Next to the takeout trash, my work bag also lays unpacked. I fall into a steady rhythm of tidying before bed while my mind wanders off to my secret relationship.
Kimi and I got together right before this season started. We met last season at a couple of different Motorsport events and spent the season getting closer. Then we spent the offseason working through the new depth added to our friendship. And now, we’re navigating unforgiving media who might not take our relationship too well and potentially ruin it.
With a yawn I finish up my task and head to bed. I go to turn off my bedside lamp and notice a goodnight message from Kimi.
~~~
yn_norris
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liked by kimi.antonelli, landonorris, user1, and 918,289 others
yn_norris: Barcelona, you have kept me busy 🥴
tagged: no one
Lilyzneimer my busy bee!! Best gp watch buddy ever, you always keep me updated with the top info 💖💖
yn_norris love you sm 💖💖 thank you for letting the teammates sister join you
user1 my fav intern 😍😍
user2 she always delivers 👏👏
user8 and grinds until the end everyday
landonorris wow I don’t even get shown, I’m hurt
yn_norris I completely flooded my stories with celebrations and you when you won. This is my moment
landonorris proud of your work always!!
yn_norris🫶🫶🫶
martagarcialopez19 pleasure to be interviewed by you!!
maya_weug lovely panel❤️🏎️
hamdaalqubaisi_official women in motorsports forever!!
user3 I love how Y/n and Lando always have 2 comment threads with varying emotions under every post
user4 KIMI IN THE LIKES???
user5 he stays in her likes
user6 tbh most of the F2/F1 academy drivers are, between her being Landos little sister and covering them the most with her job/internship they’ve gotten familiar
user7 exactly, even her and Ollie Bearman have reported they talk and could consider themselves in a friendship
user8 Abbi Pulling and Hamda Al Qubaisi have been known to hang out with Y/n apart from the track
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~~~
It was a beautiful sunny day in Barcelona, Spain. I was so thankful I was able to take a few remote work days so I’d be able to stay another day and explore. It all worked out perfectly because both my brother and his teammate invited me to join their exploration and Kimi was able to get a late flight.
With the sun shining and birds singing I made my way down a less crowded street and was met by my boyfriend snapping photos of the scenery around him. I decide to quicken my pace and give him a hug.
“Hello there,” he says surprised. A chuckle escapes his mouth once he’s turned around to reciprocate the affection.
“Hi,” I smile. I look around as he pulled back and saw the iconic kissing mural surrounded by greenery, “wow.”
“Pretty right,” he says.
“Beautiful,” I gush,”let’s get a photo.” Kimi nods and I set my phone up to record a video to screen record to screen shot from since there was no one around at the early hour.
“How do you wanna pose?”
“Let’s kiss and really be that couple, you know,” I joke.
“Come here then,” the warm air and slight breeze made the moment feel like a fairytale. The world melted away as I enjoyed the sweet kiss. For a moment it felt like we were out to the world. But when the kiss ended, I felt disappointment that no one has seen us. Part of me grew restless with the secret keeping, “I found a really cute place for breakfast I think you’ll like it.”
We walked hand in hand down the quiet streets, passing by locals going through their morning chores. Soon enough we arrived at a small restaurant and were sat outside. Concealed by aged buildings, the place itself was low traffic and gave up peace of mind.
“Smile,” I look back towards Kimi from the surrounding scenery to see him holding up his camera. We took a couple of different shots before returning to conversation.
“I had the weirdest feeling earlier,” I start. Kimi looks a little concerned, “when we took that kissing photo I wanted someone to see. I wanted our relationship to get out.”
“I’ve been feeling the same way. It’s been and is so nice to have our little bubble, but part of me just wants to be and not worry about the when and where.”
“Exaclty my feelings. I’m glad we’re talking about this, let’s let the idea sit for a little while longer and then we can come up with a plan. I’m scared to rush into an announcement and not be ready for the outcome.” Kimi agrees and we fall into other topics of conversation over breakfast. After we go to an outdoor market and look around. I purchase some trinkets for other interns at the office who cover other sports. As the air slowly got hotter, Kimi’s time with me got shorter. Eventually it was time to take him back to the hotel to take a ride to the airport. We said our goodbyes and he promised to call me when he landed.
I quickly traveled to the lunch spot my brother informed me to meet the group at. We spent the rest of the day enjoying the scenery, taking cool photos, and just enjoying each others company since extra days like this were scarce.
Too soon the sun went down and our activities ended. Back in my hotel room I worked in the soft lamplight and prepared for my flight back to reality tomorrow.
~~~
oscarpiastri
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liked by landonorris, lilyzniemer, user91, and 928,827 others
oscarpiastri: pro tip: never explore with the Norris siblings, they’ll make a scene everywhere
tagged: lilyzneimer, landonorris, yn_norris
yn_norris ummm this is embarrassing you seemed to have misspelled “Y/n thank you so much for the adorable pic of me and Lily! Thankfully your skill is far superior to your brothers so I was able to post one”
landonorris you twat
yn_norris I mean he didn’t post yours so…
oscarpiastri that’s it I’m getting a restraining order on you guys
landonorris we only made a couple…
oscarpiastri yea bc Y/n was only with us a few hours
user1 LMAO THE BIKE PHOTO
user2 they were ready to square up
yn_norris I kicked his ass
user2 OMG SHE REPLIED
user3 everytime I see a Y/n and Lily interaction it always gives little and big sis🥹
user4 omg ikr!! It makes me so happy that even though her bio sisters aren’t able to be with her 24/7 she has someone at gps and such
user5 what I wouldn’t give to explore the world with this group
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kimi.antonelli
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Liked by user4, yn_norris, olliebearman, and 819,728 others
Kimi.antonelli: Barcelona, beautiful as always 👏
tagged:no one
olliebearman 💪💪
Prema_team glad to see the weekend allowed for relaxation 😎
user1 happy with the results this weekend!!
user2 ok scenic shot
user3 Kimi is coming for Y/n with the digital camera effect
user4 I wonder why it’s only on the last photo tho?
user5 maybe this is where she was when she wasn’t with the McLaren boys…
user6 ok grandma get back to bed
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Yn_norris
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liked by kimi.antonelli, carlossainz55, abbiepulling, and 718,828 others
Yn_norris: España, mi amor
Tagged: lilyzniemer
oscarpiatri so glad my gf make the post and I didn’t
yn_norris cry me a river
landonorris who took the first pic you don’t have any friends other than me 🤨🤨
yn_norris choke
carlossainz55 always love your love of Spain 🇪🇸♥️
yn_norris with every bit of my heart!!
Riabish gorgeous!!
abbiepulling travel looks gorgeous on you
yn_norris 💋💋
user1 she ate this up
user2 first pic >>>>>
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yn_norris posted a story!
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Caption: I get door dashed coffee even when he’s thousands of miles away 🫶🫶
Replies:
landonorris
who what when where why
idk, it’s coffee for those of us who don’t have the energy of a seven year old, this morning, my office, bc I’m loved
wdym “idk”
Y/n are you soft launching?? Your own brother doesn’t get to know before Instagram
I have a plan no fear
🙄
Kimi.antonelli
I’ve discovered you can special order a message or simple drawings through the app too
I can see that
so be prepared, there’s so much more where than came from
as much as I love this and would love to see what you come up with, I can get my own coffee
not happening
lmao ok
Not my hill to die on
I love you
I love you too, have a great day
Oscarpiastri
your bother is pacing
Lmao good
Let him squirm
Yes ma’am 🫡
~~~
The smell of exhaust fills my senses and V6s roar across the track. Lando and I were currently camped out in the Prema garage with our eyes glued to the screen. We let out a few comments and had mini conversations throughout.
When Kimi’s car cross the finish line the enter building jumped up. As the crew and engineers all ran out to the baraxade. I decided do lead Lando over where the podium is interviewed before the cool down room so we don’t interrupt team celebrations. We stand meters away so we don’t bother anyone but I still might be able to sent Kimi a thumbs up and a wink.
“I didn’t know you two got so close,” Lando mused as we still admits the buzzing padock.
“Well you know through other friends I’ve made from tagging alone to events and races with you we were bound to meet, especially with him being Ollies teammate this season,” Lando nods at that. “So how are you feeling about your race, the home ones always a big deal.”
“I’m super excited, but the nerves of potentially messing things up are there,” he confesses, “I want to win really bad.”
“Call it reporter’s gut but I feel-“ suddenly I was cut off my someone yelling my name.
“Y/n!” Kimi is sprinting over to us. So much for not making a scene, I think.
“Kimi! You did it!” I yelled back. Soon, he was a meter away and not stopping. I was grabbed along with him and brought a couple steps away as he slowed down. Before I could even comprehend the previous action, Kimi let out another victory cheer, grabbed my face, and kissed me in the middle of the paddock. The adrenaline and joy from his win charged the kiss from both ends. It was like nothing I’d ever experienced before. All those kisses in hotel room or hidden corners of the world were put to shame, this was the kiss. I was so focused on the moment that I didn’t remember that there were eyes on us everywhere, including the eyes of my brother.
“Y/n- I- What!” Lando stuttered with wide eyes. He still stood in our previous spot and seemed to be stuck there. After a moment of staring back, I realized my hands had come up to rest on Kimi’s biceps.
I quickly jumped back before turning to look at Kimi again, “Hey, I’m so proud! We can catch up and all that later. Go do your media stuff, I love you.” I wave him off and walk back to Lando, “before you say anything we need to talk privately.”
Once we find a quiet place I begin explains everything, “And that’s brings us up to now. We had a plan to slow launch and then during that time we hoped to tell family and close friends before anyone else. I swear this weekend was the one-“ he cut me off.
“Y/n don’t worry, I can tell the adrenaline got to him,” he smirks, “I know the feeling well.”
“Ew, ew Lando please stop there,” I cringe. “Are you sure you’re not mad? It wasn’t supposed to come out this way, especially not to you.”
“I’m fine. Granted I only saw a few seconds of that this relationship is but any man who’s gonna come running to you after a race before even heading to a mandatory interview or cool down then he’s a good one. Also you can’t fool me, your eyes lit up and you forgot I was even next to you when he showed up. I’m happy for you,” Lando pulled me into a bear hug.
“I love you Lan.”
“I love you too,” he pulled back and added,” but mum might be so give her a ring before she finds out.”
We both laugh before I FaceTime the family group chats for round 2 of explaining.
~~~
f1updates
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Liked by user82, user282, user1, and 173,827 others
f1updates: After his first F2 win, Kimi Antonelli kisses Lando Norris’s little sister in the middle of the paddock! Videos from multiple sources have been reposted on our Twitter account.
tagged: Kimi.antonelli, yn_norris
used1 WHAT
user2 this was not on my 2024 bingo card
used3 after watching the videos it was right out of a romance movie
user4 the way he sprinted to her while ignoring everything else
user5 lando’s face killed me
user6 he was just as shocked as we are
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kimi.antonelli
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liked by yn_norris, user43, prema_racing, and 918,828 others
Kimi.antonelli: maiden win anyone??
tagged: prema_racing, mercadesamgf1, yn_norris
yn_norris “where’s the trophy? He just comes running over to me” 🤭🤭
Kimi.antonelli ❤️❤️
landonorris 😑
yn_norris fuck off
prema_racing that’s our boy 👏🏆
User1 KIMI IS A RACE WINNER
user2 anyone else absolutely die when he kissed her
user3 yea I think Lando almost did
user4 Y/n’s comment 😭😭
carlossainz55 the last pic 🤨
danielriccardo so it is true
landonorris OF COURSE ITS TRUE A VIDEO HAS BEEN TRENDING ON TWITTER
Carlossainz55 honestly I couldn’t understand half of what you were saying but he could be worse
landonorris mate.
danielriccardo I say shovel talk before his next race see how he celebrates then
yn_norris no no no yall are done scheming in my boyfriends comment section
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~~~
The British Grand Prix had been a rollercoaster for the younger Norris who sat in the coverage of the McLaren garage watching the race. Kimi and I had sent a few messages about the race but since Lando lost his lead during his pit in lap 40 I have been zoned in. I’ve been praying since Lewis passed that something would happen, that by a miracle Lando would regain his lead. Unfortunately as the laps dwindled, Lando lost time between the winner and in lap 49 Max had successfully overtaken him. Sighs and cuss words could be heard all throughout the building. My head fell into my hands as I watched the race though hooded eyelids, weight down with sadness.
When the race was over I slowly took the same path Lando and I had taken yesterday towards the media area. I flashed by badge once again and found a stop on the r of the action. Eventually, Lando made his way to Jensen and completed his interview.
“Hey,” I said empathetically as I pulled him into a hug. “I know you hate this and I know you’re upset. Lando, you hold yourself to the highest standard imaginable, but please know you did great. Third place is still a handful of points and now you’ve gotten more experience so you and the team can make better calls in the future. This wasn’t a race that you could predict, you had to roll with the punches and you did. I’m so proud of you and now I have a new trophy I can steal for my future apartments decor!”
Lando let out a loud chuckle before he hit me on the head, “you’re not getting my trophies you muppet.”
“That’s what you think,” I fired back before he pulls me into another hug, this one more playful than the last. I waved him off to the cool down room and said a quick congratulations to Lewis before heading to get a spot with McLaren for the podium ceremony.
~~~
landonorris
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Liked by yn_norris, user3, mclaren, and 819,928 others
landonorris: Silverstone I love you, my sister not so much ❤️ congrats on the win @/lewishamilton, we’ll review, do better, and come get you next time 😜
Tagged: lewishamilton
yn_norris I cried real tears @/lewishamilton
yn_norris you fought hard, it was entertaining race. Love you to the moon and back🫶🫶
landonorris love you to the moons and back twice 🫶
user1 HELLO?? THIS IS TO SWEEET
used2 with no warning either 😭😭
yn_norris also for the record I did nothing
Kimi.antonelli ok now I said I was sorry
user3 why war McLarens strategy all messed up this week
Kimi.antonelli great driving today 💪
landonorris 😑
yn_norris lando try that again.
landonorris 👍
user4 you still did great!!
user5 lmao the jab at Y/n 😭😭
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yn_norris
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liked by danielriccardo, olliebearman, user88, and 198,828 others
yn_norris big weekend :)
tagged: landonorris, kimi.antonelli
landonorris big weekend? BIG WEEKEND? THATS ALL YOU HAVE TO SAY??
yn_norris I mean a lot happened
danielriccardo I think that trophy was kissed better than you
yn_norris 🙄✋
Kimi.antonelli love you ♥️
yn_norris love you too ♥️
user1 her and Lando 🥹🥹
olliebearman thanks for the support on your off weekend 👏👏
yn_norris anytime care bear
user2 “care bear” IM CRYING YN YOU CANT DO MY MAN LIKE THAT
user3 the McLaren flag slays so hard
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kimi.antonelli
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Liked by yn_norris, landonorris, used928, and 727,828 others
Kimi.antonelli: I owe an apology to Y/n for ruining our soft launch on a whim, Lando for doing it front of you, and my family for not telling you guys sooner. But that’s all besides the point because I can finally say LOOK AT MY GIRLFRIEND
tagged: yn_norris
yn_norris omg I love you ♥️
Kimi.antonelli I love you more ♥️
user1 the uppercase at the end he’s so cute 😭😭
user2 you can tell he’s so excited
oscarpiastri so does the Barcelona photo prove that’s who Y/n was with that morning?
landonorris no shot they snuck around right under my nose
Kimi.antonelli no comment
yn_norris not my fault you’re an idiot who doesn’t ask enough questions
landonorris oh just you wait for my questions now
Oscarpiastri oh look now you’ve opened Pandora’s box y/n
carlossainz55 I guess I like you
Kimi.antonelli that’s comforting?
Carlossainz55 be happy it’s not hate
yn_norris he’s a tad bit overprotective
danielriccardo you’ve got balls kid, I respect it
Kimi.antonelli thank you 😁
user3 pls not this summoning all of Landos old teammates
user4 guess he’s not the only one they’ve grown attatched to
landonorris this is cute ig
Kimi.antonelli I’m taking this as a win
yn_norris don’t act all grumpy on main
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yn_norris
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liked by Danielriccardo, user817, Kimi.antonelli, and 817,828 others
yn_norris: “this night is sparkling, don’t you let it go”
tagged: Kimi.antonelli
Kimi.antonelli fav taylor song 🫶🫶
yn_norris see aren’t you glad I made you listen to it
user1 Kimi is an Enchanted stan???
landonorris wtf is that last picture
yn_norris 🤷🏼‍♀️
user2 I love them so much 😭😭
User3 she dedicated Enchanted to him?? Girlie is in deep
Carlossainz55 does he make you happy?
danielriccardo this is is a very important question
yn_norris very 🥰
landonorris cancel the plans guys
Kimi.antonelli I’m scared
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yn_norris
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Liked by lilyzniemer, user4, carlossainze55, and 981,828 others
yn_norris: he’s family approved ☀️😌
tagged: Kimi.antontelli
Kimi.antonelli Aunt Y/n 😍
landonorris absolutely not
danielriccardo I’m watching you
carlossainz55 stop right there
yn_norris do you guys always materialize in time to ruin the fun 😒
oscarpiastri 👶🚫
yn_norris OSCAR YOU TOO???
Landonorris take that helmet off her now, Uncle Lala’s is the only one allowed
yn_norris possessive much
user1 I can never tell how Lando feels about Kimi
user2 right mixed signals much? He bullies him in insta comments but openly supports him irl
user3 speaking from personal experience, that’s just him being an annoying older brother
lilyzniemer the matching outfits 🥰🥰
abbiepulling they are too cute!!!
yn_norris I love you both 🫶🫶
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heartysworld · 5 months ago
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Match points and podiums // Lewis Hamilton
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A/N: I literally got the idea for this while I was watching the Wimbledon finale. I feel like I rushed it a bit, but I couldn't wait to post it for you guys, so here it is! I might edit it later on and add some bits but for now I'm quite happy with the result. Hope you enjoy it!
W.C.: 4.5k
MASTERLIST
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You remember the first time you met Lewis like it was yesterday. It was at a charity event organized by mutual friends in Monaco. You were there as part of a tennis exhibition, and Lewis was there as an honor guest, fresh off another Grand Prix win. The evening was filled with laughter, champagne, and the mingling of two very different worlds—tennis and racing.
You had just finished another match, bringing home yet another win, and were chatting with some guests when Lewis approached you. He had a warm smile that reached his eyes, and there was an undeniable charm about him.
"Hello, I'm Lewis, it is very nice to meet you" he said, extending his hand. "I caught some of your match earlier. You were incredible out there."
You shook his hand, feeling a spark of something indescribable as a light pinkish color made its way to your cheeks. "Thank you, Lewis. I'm a big fan of your work on the track. Congratulations on your recent win."
From that moment on, something snapped deep inside your chest, making it impossible to look at another man the same way you looked at Lewis. His eyes sparkled with an indescribable force that felt like a magnet pulling a part inside of you towards him. His presence was otherworldly, that of a man who knew what he wanted and how to achieve it without ever giving up.
 As the months after the charity event passed you bonded over your shared dedication to your respective sports, your drive to be the best, and your love for adventure. Dates were often spontaneous, like a midnight drive along the coast or a quick flight to a secluded beach. Your love story was one of passion, mutual respect, and a deep connection that neither of you had ever felt before.
You began making appearances at each other’s’ sporting events, capturing the attention of both the media and the fans. Every time you had a free second, you were there to support Lewis- Bahrain, Silverstone, Singapore, and other locations thorough the Formula 1 season. Lewis respectively did the same, supporting you from the stands of your tennis tournaments. That was the beginning of your journey together.
One of your most cherished memories is from a summer evening in Spain. Lewis had taken you on vacation there during his summer break mid-season.
It wasn’t long before Lewis and you fell deeply in love. He admired your tenacity on the court, and you admired his precision on the track. You found comfort in each other’s presence, and soon, your lives began to intertwine even more. You met his closest friends and family members and were slowly eased into the Hamilton family dynamics. You passed the Roscoe approval test as Lewis’ mother Carmen liked to call it. The bulldog enjoyed your presence around the house whenever you were visiting, searching for you thorough the rooms of Lewis’ home whenever he heard your voice echoing from somewhere.
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On your third night there, he surprised you with a candlelit dinner on the rooftop of your hotel, overlooking the city of Barcelona. The two of you talked for hours about your dreams, fears, and everything in between, the topic of your athletic careers long forgotten at that moment. Lewis had made it his priority to put his racing career on hold whenever he was with you. He refused to risk the possibility of losing one of the best things in life to his career that would end in the next couple of years. He loved racing, it’s been part of more than half his life, but you, he planned on keeping you forever.
"Do you ever think about the future?" Lewis asked, his eyes reflecting the twinkling city lights. The edges of his lips curved upwards as his eyes roamed over your features, taking note on every detail, every mole, freckle and dimple.
"All the time," you replied, reaching for his hand. "I want a family, a place to call home, and someone to share it all with. It has always been a dream of mine to become a mother. When I was a child I used to say that a family was the second thing, I desired the most after a Wimbledon trophy.’’ You said as you laughed at the last part, causing Lewis to smile even more at the thought of little you.
He smiled, squeezing your hand gently. "I want that too. And I want to make this come true with you by my side."
A year later, you and Lewis got married in a beautiful ceremony surrounded by family and friends. The wedding was a blend of elegance and simplicity, much like your relationship. You exchanged vows under a canopy of flowers, promising to support each other through every victory and defeat, every joy and challenge. The moment you exchanged your wedding vowels would forever remain engraved in your brain. You began first, holding a small piece of paper where your vows were written. You insisted on reading them as you feared your mind might betray you at the most important moment of your life.
As his fingers gently brushed against the skin of your wrist, a shiver of delight danced down your spine. It was a soft, almost ethereal caress, starting at the base of your neck and cascading downwards like a whisper of a breeze. The touch sent a warm, tingling sensation through your entire body, making your heart flutter and your breath hitch. It was as if his touch ignited tiny sparks of electricity, leaving a trail of warmth and anticipation in its wake. The connection between you felt electric, each shiver a testament to the depth of your feelings and the magic of the moment.
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‘’Lewis, from the moment I met you I felt like I was being pulled towards a missing piece from myself. All my life I’ve been searching for a person who is willing to love and support me despite the hectic life I lead. I never thought I would ever meet someone as charming, loveable, and supportive as you. For the past three years you’ve done nothing but be by my side and hold my hand during the happy and sad moments I faced both in my personal and professional life. I promise to do the same for you, to be your biggest supporter in all aspects of life, to build a life with you, and make all of our dreams come true.’’
You were sobbing by the time you finished talking. As you looked at your husband-to-be you saw his eyes glistening with tears as he barely managed to hold them in. You mouthed a silent ‘’I love you’’ in his direction, receiving a gentle squeeze of your hand as a response.
Someone from the guests sobbed even louder, followed by the loud blow of their nose in a napkin, which caused everyone to laugh, including you and Lewis.
‘’My love, the light of my life, meeting you felt like finding the last missing piece of a puzzle I’ve been trying to complete ever since I took my first breath on this earth. I had lost all hope of finding the right person in this lifetime, but then I met you. Today, I vow to love you with the same passion and dedication that you bring to the court. I vow to support you through every challenge, to celebrate every victory, and to be the best husband and father I can be. Together, we will create a beautiful life, full of love, laughter, and shared dreams. Today, I give you my heart, my soul, and my forever."
Not long after, you found yourself pregnant with baby Amelia. It was a moment of pure joy and excitement. Lewis was over the moon, already envisioning the adventures you’d have as a family and remembering all the conversations you’d had regarding that special moment.
By the time he finished talking, you could see your and Lewis’ parents wiping tears from underneath their eyes. This was one of the most intimate and important moments of your life and you were happy that your families were there to share it with you two.
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You continued to play tennis, balancing your passion for the sport with your growing family. Lewis was your rock, always there to support you, even when you had to stop playing mid-season due to your pregnancy. He held your hand through the morning sickness, the cravings, and the emotional rollercoaster, always reminding you of the incredible journey you were on together.
The years passed in a blur of sleepless nights, first steps, and family holidays. Amelia grew up surrounded by the world of sports, watching you on the tennis court and Lewis on the racetrack. She adored both of you and often tried to emulate your moves, whether it was swinging one of your rackets or pretending to drive a race car.
One summer afternoon, as you napped after a particularly exhausting day, Lewis and Amelia sat down to watch the Wimbledon final together. The living room was filled with the sounds of the match and Amelia’s excited chatter.
“Daddy, look at that serve! Do you think I can do that one day?” she asked, her eyes wide with admiration.
Lewis chuckled, pulling her close. “Of course, sweetheart. You can do anything you set your mind to. Remember, your mom is one of the best tennis players in the world. It’s in your blood.”
“I want to play tennis, Daddy. I want to see my name on the honor board at Wimbledon, just like mommy,” she declared with determination.
Lewis smiled, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “That’s a wonderful dream, Amelia. But first, we have to wait for baby brother to arrive. Mommy needs to take care of him and then she can get back to playing.”
Amelia’s face lit up with excitement. “I can’t wait to watch with my brother! We’ll both cheer for mommy together.”
The scent of freshly popped popcorn lingered in the air, and you could hear the soft giggles of your daughter, Amelia, mingling with the excited commentary. You stretched, feeling the weight of pregnancy slowing you down, but a smile tugged at your lips as you realized Lewis and Amelia were watching Wimbledon together.
You quietly walked into the living room, leaning against the doorway as you watched them. Lewis was sitting on the couch, Amelia snuggled up next to him, both of them fully engrossed in the match. Amelia’s eyes are wide with admiration as she watches the players on the screen, and you can’t help but feel a swell of pride and love for your little family.
 “And I’ll be so proud to have both of you cheering for me,” you said, your voice thick with emotion.
Lewis and Amelia turned to look at you, smiles spreading across their faces. Lewis stood up and walked over to you, wrapping his arms around you gently. “How was your nap, love?” he asked softly.
“It was good,” you reply, resting your head against his chest. “Hearing Amelia talk about her dreams made it even better.”
Amelia runs over and hugs your legs, looking up at you with bright eyes. “Mommy! Can we play tennis together when baby brother is here?”
You laugh softly, running your fingers through her curly hair. “Of course, sweetheart. We’ll play as much as you want.”
The match was intense, each point hard-fought, but the support of your family carried you through. You could see Lewis and Amelia in the stands, their faces filled with anticipation and pride. Next to them, your mother held Oliver, now two years old, who clapped enthusiastically every time you scored a point, your father right next to them, trying to entertain the toddler as much as possible.
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Two years later, the atmosphere at Wimbledon was electric as you stepped onto the green court. You had worked tirelessly to get back into peak condition, driven by the dream of seeing your name on that honor board as Amelia had said before.
When you finally scored the last, winning point, the sound of the crowd’s cheers was deafening. Tears filled your eyes as you raised your racket in triumph, overwhelmed by the moment. You wasted no time running towards the stands and finding your family. Amelia was the first to latch onto your leg, screaming in happiness. Seconds later, you felt two strong arms envelop you in a familiar embrace you’d always recognize.
‘’ I did it Lew, I did it!’’ you sobbed as your hands cupped his face, bringing his lips towards yours in a rushed kiss, overwhelmed by all the emotions you were feeling at that moment.’’
‘’ You did it love! You fucking did it! I told you it would happen, I never lost hope in you!’’ your husband said as he pulled you against his chest. Moments later you felt everyone around you cheering and congratulating you.
During the post-match interview, a reporter asked, “How are you feeling right now, and what has it taken to get here?”
You took a deep breath, steadying your voice. “It’s hard to put into words how much this means to me. When I was little, I used to help my father build furniture to make enough money to support my passion for tennis. My parents’ unwavering support allowed me to pursue my dreams, and I couldn’t have done it without them. My husband, Lewis, and our children, Amelia and Oliver, have been my rock. Two years ago, I overheard Amelia telling Lewis that she wanted to see both our names on the honor board at Wimbledon. That moment has stayed with me and pushed me to keep going.”
BONUS
The crowd’s applause was thunderous as you finished speaking. You glanced up at Lewis, who was beaming with pride. Amelia was jumping up and down, her excitement infectious.
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Later that year in Abu Dhabi, the atmosphere was tense. Lewis was on the verge of his eighth championship, and the entire world was watching. You were in the Ferrari garage with Amelia while baby Oliver stayed home in the company of both of his grandmothers. Your heart was pounding with every lap he completed.
Lewis needed to finish at least fourth to secure the championship, but you knew how much he wanted to win. The final laps were nail-biting, with Max pushing hard on the gas pedal behind your husband. But Lewis’s skill and determination shone through, and when he crossed the finish line in first place, the crowd erupted.
"Lewis Hamilton rounds the final corner, the crowd on their feet, the tension electric! And he crosses the line! Lewis Hamilton wins the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix and secures his eighth World Drivers' Championship! What a monumental achievement! History has been made here today in the most thrilling fashion!
Ladies and gentlemen, we have just witnessed one of the greatest moments in the history of motorsport. Lewis Hamilton, defying all odds, with determination, skill, and sheer brilliance, has etched his name in the annals of Formula 1 forever. Eight championships, surpassing the legends of our sport, and cementing his place as the most successful driver in F1 history.
This season has been a rollercoaster of emotions, challenges, and intense competition, but once again, Lewis has shown why he is the master of his craft. His relentless pursuit of excellence, his unwavering focus, and his incredible talent have brought him to this pinnacle moment.
Congratulations, Lewis! You are a true champion, an inspiration to millions, and a testament to what can be achieved with heart, determination, and belief. What a day, what a race, what a champion! Lewis Hamilton, the 2024 Formula 1 World Drivers' Champion!"
You could see his body shake as he stepped out of the car. His father, Anthony was the first to get to his, giving him the time he needed to process everything he was feeling, before embracing his son in much much-needed hug You pushed through the crowd, holding Amelia’s hand. When Lewis saw you, he rushed over, pulling the two of you into a tight embrace.
He kissed you deeply, not caring about the cameras or the crowd. “We did it,” he whispered, his voice breaking.
You couldn’t hold back your tears as you nodded, “Yes, we did.”
During the trophy ceremony, Lewis pointed his trophy towards you and your daughter, his father standing proudly beside you. He then placed his hand on his heart, looking at you with so much love that it took your breath away.
In the post-race interview, Lewis shared the news that shocked the racing world. “It’s been an incredible journey, and I’m grateful for every moment. But now, it’s time to focus on my family. I couldn’t have done any of this without their support, and I’m excited for this next chapter of our lives.”
As the crowd outside gave him a standing ovation, you knew that no matter where life took you next, you’d face it together, as a family.
Back home, life settled into a new rhythm. Without the constant travel and pressure of racing, Lewis threw himself into being a full-time dad and husband. You balanced your tennis career with family life, savoring every moment.
One evening, after putting the kids to bed, you and Lewis sat on the balcony of your Monaco apartment, watching the night sky. He held your hand, his thumb tracing gentle circles on your skin.
“I never imagined life could be this perfect,” he said softly. “Thank you for being my rock, my partner, and my best friend.”
You smiled, resting your head on his shoulder. “We’ve been through so much together, and I wouldn’t trade any of it for the world.”
Lewis turned to you, his eyes filled with love. “Here’s to the next adventure, whatever it may be.” You clinked your glasses together, knowing that no matter what the future held, you’d face it side by side, surrounded by the love of your family.
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MASTERLIST
Reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated
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dumbification · 6 months ago
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his cowgirl! ft. boothill
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summary: the night is endless as you ride boothill like there's no tomorrow... ( ˶°ㅁ°) !!
cw: boothill x fem!reader, sub!boothill (but he's the one actually in control), drunk sex, dumbification (?), alcohol mention, bratty boothill
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“tired already, doll?” boothill spoke in a teasing manner. that smirk of his didn’t help at all, you wanted to punch that smug look off his face. you were indeed tired, your wobbling legs gave you the least amount of support.
you had to ground yourself by gripping at his shoulders. you weren’t even truly grounded, you felt as if you were on cloud nine. you were tired, but satisfied. If he weren’t metal, there'd be scars all over him. your back arched like a cat, it was a moment of bliss.
he definitely licked his lips at the way you looked right now. face flushed with a tinge of crimson, eyes half lidded, and your lips slightly parted. only he could see this lewd sight of you. “sh..shut it..” you actually managed to say something. 
“what’s that, sugar? need to hear ya.” you were certain he heard you. “you can spell it out f’me, don’t mind.” nothing but incoherent babbles and nonsense spilled from your mouth. he chuckled lowly.
“didn’t even do much to ya..” he bucked his hips up into yours. boothill knows he’s driving you mad like this. you attempted to gain some sort of power over him by quickening your pace. to your dismay, he broke your focus. he squeezed one of your breasts, earning himself a moan from you.
you really want him to shut up. “y..you kn..know what you're doin’..” it’s hard to deal with this man. especially when the two of you are hardcore drunk. It doesn’t seem to affect him, though. The strong scent of neat whiskey and your perfume all add to your overstimulation. 
he was hungry for control. hungry for power over you. but he let you decide what happened tonight, you were especially busy at work today. “didn’t like that muddlefudger offerin’ you a drink..” 
you crashed into him for a sweet, starved kiss. his lips on yours was perfection, nothing was better than that. not even the pleasures of sex. you raised your head and fluttered your eyes open. ‘di.did that shu..shut ya up?” 
his silence answered you. “you kn..know i don’t ta..take drinks from a..anyone else..” he only nodded, and caressed your cheek with his palm. you went back to work, with a new kind of energy, you grinded harder than ever.
“atta girl.” you successfully got something out of him. an embarrassingly loud groan echoed against the walls of your hotel room. every calculated grind of yours made his cock hit all the right spots, adding to the pleasure. the knot in your belly threatened to snap. he knew this, and gripped his hands tighter around the plush fat of your ass, encouraging you to embrace your fifth orgasm. damn his stamina.
you finally came. it was a well earned one, but it took forever. you really were getting tired. but he wanted to push you to the edge this particular night, of all nights. when you were drunk enough to faint. you couldn’t count how much you drank, you were lucky you could take that much. 
he always convinced you to keep going for another round. to chase another, even better high. boothill wanted to fuck you dumb, to make your legs so sore you couldn’t stand. to turn your brain into mush. you were sure you’d be stuck in bed tomorrow morning.
“up for round six? we got all night, baby. keep ridin’...” he’s gonna be the end of you.
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purinfelix · 2 months ago
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not a lot, just forever ₊⊹ - pedri gonzalez
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pairing: reader x pedri summary: in which you have to remind your boyfriend to take care of himself while away a/n: just something small while i get my ass beat by assignments :")
Another international stretch meant another week or os of having to deal with a long-distance relationship. It wasn't the easiest but the sooner you realised you didn't have much of a choice otherwise, the better. It didn't help that your boyfriend hated it even more than you did, and was sure to remind you - the fact that he was managing to be clingy from a completely different country was honestly impressive. It was calling you every spare minute he had, sending you texts the moment he knew you
You fall onto your bed with a sigh, opening your phone to see a call request from him - the third that day - and you accept it. You're smiling the minute you see the notification but as the call springs to life your expression morphs.
"Hey baby," you hear him say, though something's wrong. His usually cheerful tone has dulled to a slow, tired mumble, and even though the rest of his hotel room is dark the light reflecting back from his screen makes his eyebags clear.
"Woah Pedri, you-" you begin, unsure of how to word it as you scan his gaunt expression. "Are you alright?"
"I'm fine, why do you ask?" He tries his best to muster up a smile before busying himself by talking about his day - his morning training, the game earlier which you've already watched, the food at the hotel.
"That sounds like a lot," you laugh softly and he nods, though you can see the exhaustion on his face. There's a beat of silence and you think for a moment he's fallen asleep.
"Are you sure you're okay?"
"Hm? Yeah, I'm sure."
Another beat of silence, and you can see him thinking of something else to tell you about to fill the gap. You get there first.
"Take care of yourself babe," you say, as earnestly as you can manage.
"I am, I mean I'm training almost every day so-"
"You need to rest okay? Don't overwork yourself," you interrupt him, and this seems to finally snap him out of it. "It's late for you anyways isn't it, why aren't you sleeping?"
"I wanted to talk to you," he mumbles sheepishly, "but you're right, I should sleep. I'll talk to you tomorrow, okay baby?"
"Yes, of course, first thing in the morning," you assure him, and you can tell in the final look he gives you how grateful he is, before he shuts off the call.
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