#he's a little slow but he's trying his best :( | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

todosdream · 2 days ago

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stress relief | ony

15k wrds. strangers to friends? to lovers. slow burn. plot with smut. fem black oc. see the moodboard.

warnings: MNDI! lots of profanity, usage of n word, pet names, mentions of weed; smut: unprotected sex (PLS BE SAFE), edging, a spank or two, naaasty talk, degradation? more like brat-taming, dacryphilia for two seconds, ony rightfully has a bbc, begging, ony’s a talker (duh), choking? really just a hand necklace, pussydrunk ony, lowkey d/s but not explicitly mentioned

additional #: oc needs to get laid fr. kt needs her headphones. becca needs a new job. author doesn’t box. shout out mrs. etta. ony is chalanting with a girl for the first time. (and he’s vibing with it.) oc really needs to get laid. oc is a bit bratty… sorry. ony needs to get off his ass. oc is actually very bratty, damn. oh hell, oc gets laid!

“girl, I’ma be real with you… you need some dick,” crystal’s best friend tells her through her screen. kt’s giving a look, an interesting mix of pity and annoyance. her knotless braids are framing her face, mocha skin radiant as always but lashes looking quite barren. “yeah, and you need a lash refill, ho,” crystal snorts. since she’s bringing up needs and shit. it’s unfortunately been a while since they’ve hung out, kt now visiting family in colorado for about a week.

being the type of friends they are, the both of them have no issue communicating through tiktoks and sending pictures of silly things. just yesterday kt sent a picture of herself holding up a peace sign with a joint between her lips. she stood next to a 'no smoking' sign, the ‘no’ smudged. she thought she was just so clever. crys in return sent a saved picture of an unimpressed squidward, a typical exchange between the two goofballs.

“yeah, okay, ho. I’m just saying. maybe you’d be a little nicer to me if you got some,” she rolls her eyes, giving yzma. her rescheduled lash appointment can’t come quick enough. “says the girl getting some every day and still being mean to me,” crys scoffs.

kt’s living with her boyfriend, expecting his title to change to fiance after feeling a certain anticipatory energy from the man. her time consists of working and chatting with friends, and being with and posting videos with her partner. crys, however, explores her free time in many ways. picking up hobbies that have about a 50% chance of sticking, trying different restaurants, teaching her dog funny tricks, and the occasional friend hangout. it’s friday night and she’s doing her own nails just for the hell of it. although the uninhibited girl’s words trigger an automatic negative response, crys knows why she’s speaking them. when the phone call ends, kt will turn over and cuddle up to her man, maybe ‘get her shit rocked’ as she likes to so delicately put it. crys, however, will be left with her dog, her empty home and bed, and whichever toy she vibes with for the night.

she likes being alone, it’s an accomplishment for her to feel confident and comfortable being single after wasting her time with people that don’t care, men that don’t even actually like her. but when it’s all said and done, people are meant for connection. of course platonic, family, community… but that pull? that yearning? it can’t be replicated, no matter how many times she rewatches bridgerton or insecure.

it’s been a while since she just let go with anyone other than those already close to her. the last time she let someone new in, he showed her exactly why ‘niggas ain’t shit’ is such a popular phrase. it was a situation that didn’t make any sense, and in retrospect, she cringes. the embarrassment, the useless attempts at communication, the settling… never again. however, that’s a part of her life that’s being fully neglected. no dates, no late night rendezvous, no flirting, no sex.

one word: cobwebs.

“why are you more worried about my coochie than I am, anyway?” crys jokes as she fixes her gel polish, deflecting the conversation. it’s not something she wants to discuss or harp on. that’s just life for her right now. she’s tired of people wasting her time, so she became unavailable. simple. plus, she knows kt’s nosy ass man is lying next to her and listening because that girl never wears her damn airpods. “you think that’s an insult? girl. that only makes you look bad, not me,” she sasses. crys hears a soft snicker in the background. “oh, fuck you,” the girl mumbles in response. “and will you please put headphones on the next time you decide to go talkin’ bout my coochie? cause I’ll happily tell all those stories about yours, pimp.”

“stories?” crys hears in the background of the call. “ain’t no way she just called you that. what the hell that mean, crystal?” the bestie purses her lips and squints at crys. she watches as the brown skinned girl tilts her head, making her curls flop to the side with a ‘gotcha’ look. “I know where you live, you know that, fo’head? have a good night with your vibrator, ho,” she speaks lowly. shuffles are heard as she drops the phone onto the duvet next to her. “she don’t mean that, pookie, she’s just all pent up.” kt’s middle finger is all that’s visible on the screen before the phone echos a tone a few times, indicating the end of the call. crys snorts in response and sits her phone to the side. she sighs, looking over her nails for any imperfections as her mind echoes her words.

she wouldn’t be opposed to a night in the sheets. it’d be nice to dust off the cobwebs. get some head, maybe get her shit rocked like she hasn’t had in a while. part of her wants the slow and sensual, romantic sex with someone special. the kind of sex that touches her soul, that you can feel on every level. the other part… well. that part stays right in the cage where it belongs. that part likes to drown in frisky pleasure even if the one giving it is a life source draining leech.

it’s normal to want pleasure, it’s human. but the thought of all the bullshit that comes with dealing with another human, let alone a man in this day and age is enough to make her reconsider taking that step. so like usual, she brushes the words off and refocuses on her spa day so that she can be at her best for the work week.

ᥫ᭡

despite her best efforts, the next week is particularly irritating. mercury must be doing her shit, maybe all the damn planets, because so many people have had wack ass attitudes and it’s rubbed crys wrong. terrible interactions with customers, coworkers called out and left her in a busy store with little help, and she broke a nail doing something very much so not in her job description. on top of that, the amount of random things outside of her control that have gone haywire is deeply irritating. her tv crapped out and decided to just stop working out of nowhere, her wifi is out for local renovations, and her trash can is missing.

again.

it’s a wonder she hasn’t either had some type of crash out or just cashed in her pto for a fucking break. instead, she decides to get dressed for the gym and puts on a purple workout set. if she wants to be cute and sweaty she damn well will be. she grabs her favorite gym shoes and her essentials. she leaves her curls alone for now, but takes a scrunchie to put it up later. when she gets to the gym at a completely different time than she’s used to, it’s practically empty, save for a young and obviously bored receptionist that’s glued to her phone and a middle aged woman power walking into her destiny.

seriously, crys will have some of what she’s having. the woman is on fire.

sighing to herself, the frazzled girl goes to scan her member qr code, only for the damn scanner to decide to stop working. the blonde receptionist behind the desk sighs as if doing her job is the last thing she wants to do. crys usually wouldn’t blame her for that, but the way she’s popping her gum has the curly headed girl imagining a modern re-enactment of that one scene from that madea movie. the receptionist seems to be in absolutely no rush to fix the scanner, completely oblivious to the metaphorical cloud over crys’ head that’s growing by the minute. she fights the urge to furrow her brows and take a week’s worth of irritation out on the worker, deciding to take a deep breath instead.

the brief look up that the girl gives in response has her immediately regretting her decision.

before she can even think of something to say, the door opens behind her. she’s in no mood to look at the person, figuring they’ll both be waiting in line. she doesn’t want to seem open to small talk because she’s just not. however, the receptionist— becca, her nametag reads— looks up like the sun just graced the sky for the first time in centuries. she stands up straighter, obviously trying to make herself look like she’s doing the job that she’s been failing at, and calls over crys’ shoulder. “hey, ony, technical difficulties. you’re free to go ahead you don’t have to wait, I can check you in once this is fixed,” she smiles. that lucky bastard. it’s the first smile on her face in the entire time the bristling girl has been there. crys swears if this was a cartoon scene, the blonde girl would be fluttering her lashes with hearts in her eyes.

there’s a deep chuckle from behind. “thanks, becca. they should give you a raise,” a low, raspy voice responds. crys’ eye twitches. the hell they should, she thinks. hand me the damn performance review form cause I got shit to say. becca, now looking as if she’s on cloud nine, waves him off dismissively. “just doing my job. leg day?” she questions, trying to sound as casual as possible and not like her drool is threatening to ruin the damn scanner beyond repair. “mhm,” the stranger hums. “nice kicks,” he mumbles.

crys is too busy zoning out and imagining herself tap dancing on the broken pieces of the scanner to realize that he’s talking to her. the way becca’s eyes shift gets her attention. “oh. uh, thanks,” she murmurs, looking up. all she sees is a muscular back walking towards the men’s locker room. she doesn’t have time to look him over because ms. becca decides she actually can do her job and calls out to her that the scanner is fixed.

it just needed to be plugged up again.

ain’t no fuckin’ way.

becca doesn’t even seem embarrassed. she’s holding the scanner lazily and looking around, probably for that ony guy. the blonde doesn’t realize that crys is holding her phone out, and she’s still popping that damn gum. instead of saying something to the girl like she really wants to, she grabs the scanner from the “worker” to check her damn self in and quickly heads to the locker room. the girl doesn’t deserve her week’s worth of anger.

after some time, she’s finally out on the floor to stretch out. soon after the warm up, she’s at the punching bag. it’s not her usual choice of workout, but she took classes when she was younger and knows it’s a great way to release all that irritation from the week in a more physical outlet.

crys quickly wraps her hands and soon she’s throwing punches and listening to rico nasty, an artist who has several tracks on her ‘temper tantrum’ playlist. she gets into her groove, trying to remember the important tips from the classes she attended years ago. it’s hard to recall all the basics, but she gives it her best shot. not too long after, she notices a shadow of someone’s frame behind her. it must be that lucky asshole from earlier, probably here to be a bother. or maybe becca decided to do her job and came to tell her to move her bag off the floor. she sighs, taking out her headphones and turning to look. it’s the stranger. the man’s arms are crossed as he watches, showing his sleeves of tattoos.

crys wishes she could say he was ugly, but he’s definitely not. he’s fine as fuck, actually. his skin is dark and healthy, making him look like he actually has a skincare routine and not just 100-in-one soap. he has an athletic build visible even through his clothes that makes her want to drool like dear old becca. he’s tall, maybe 6’4 or 6’5, so she has to look up at him, even being on the taller side herself. his black durag matches his all black workout fit and she wonders what exactly lies underneath considering the size of his arms.

his demeanor is calm and steady, confident in a way that’s quiet, as opposed to many other gym bros™. his face is calm and there’s barely any tension in his body. crys thinks she’d like to make him bothered, just to get a rise. see if he’ll hold ip or bite back. but no, that’s rude, and she doesn’t know this man at all. his eyes are looking at her intently, and she despises how beautiful they are. why do men get to have natural lashes that look like that? it’s not fair she has to get extensions when his are so long with an almost perfect curl. and the color of his eyes make it worse, the light brown contrasting his dark skin so prettily. and his lips? full, perfect for kissing, among other things.

lucky bastard.

“you gone bite my head off if I suggest how to fix your form?” he asks with a simple raise of his brow.

ᥫ᭡

ony’s a hardworking man. he likes to handle business but have some fun on the side too. he’s chill. everyone would describe him as that. he’s the levelheaded friend, usually the calm in a storm, and not one to be all over the place physically, mentally, or emotionally. he’s a steady beat and he likes it that way. life is peaceful and secure, challenging in certain ways, but calm in others. he has a good paying job as a personal trainer, proper work life balance, and a good head on his shoulders. he doesn’t do too much, honestly, but that doesn’t mean that his life doesn’t have some interesting twists and turns. his boys always seem to need rescuing in some form, sisters all a whirlwind of their own. his mom is always a source of entertainment, although his dad is much like himself. he likes his life, simple as that.

but things have been becoming monotonous lately. his clients aren’t having any interesting developments and his social life is steady but uninteresting overall. his family group chat is going through a quiet spell and his boys are actually not up to anything stupid like they somehow always are. he’s been particularly unfulfilled by the game and there’s no sport he wants to keep up with as of late. it’s all kind of… blah. he’s grateful that nothing’s going wrong. he could be having a bad week as opposed to a boring one, but he aches for a spark, something different to bring a bit more color to his life. maybe he should get a pet? maybe some little fish couldn’t hurt. he thinks over the new idea while he follows his usual routine to pack up and leave for the gym.

and then he sees crys.

he notices her form as she stands at the check in desk, interest piqued. he’s never seen her before, and he comes to this gym at least five nights a week. he knows names and faces, especially since there’s usually no more than five people when he comes. her figure catches and keeps his eye, his gaze taking in the woman’s long legs, thick thighs, and plump ass, seeing how her afro falls around her shoulders. his excuse for where his gaze is centered is that it’s all he can see from where he’s standing, but it’s not much of an excuse. she’s just fine as hell. her workout fit is cute and colorful, contrasting his dark and bland one. her hand is in on her hip that’s popped out, accentuating her form.

his interest is definitely piqued.

he gets to see more of her when he comes around to speak to becca. pretty almond eyes, soft looking lips, the bottom currently being chewed with vigor. she’s beautiful… but one look at her profile and the flames in her eyes tell him all he needs to know: look the other way. ony grew up surrounded by strong black women in his life, his mom, sisters, aunts, cousins… learning to read body language and— well, the room, was something he learned quickly and he’s applied that lesson everywhere in life. everything about her body language and that cute, barely contained frown screams bad day. so he greets becca— who’s really a sweet girl, just unbothered— compliments her shoes, and moves on about his routine.

it’s like clockwork. he puts his stuff away, makes sure his chain is safe and secure, fills his water bottle, waves at mrs. etta on the treadmill, stretches, locks in, and gets the workout started.

he’s getting into his mode and enveloping himself in the feel of the workout, but he can’t help the way his eyes are pulled back to crys. the way she stretches, the way she adorably bobs her head to the seemingly… aggressive? music. she’s gorgeous and new, which has him feeling like every routine move he makes is just a little different. her and her angry pout and her curves and her curls…

she approachs a punching bag, which ony can admit he didn’t expect. the outfit convinced him she’d be power walking with mrs. etta, or doing pilates in the corner. his mom always told him what assuming does to someone, though. he looks away as he tries to focus on anything other than her. he counts his reps like usual, trying to submerge himself in his music. it doesn’t work. as soon as she takes her first swing, his eyes are back on her, taking notice of how she punches.

hm.

he can see she knows a bit more than someone just randomly choosing to throw a few hits, but he isn’t fond of some of the habits she has that could actually hurt in the long run. he debates approaching, but he’s always been one to help others in the gym. attitude be damned, he’s a personal trainer. he knows the importance of doing things correctly. after watching for a while, he decides to walk over. he knows that if she doesn’t fix her punch, she’ll be angry all over again tomorrow because of sore wrists. she turns, obviously annoyed, but he’s not scared. she looks him up and down, her facial expression barely shifting. he wonders what she’s thinking, wants to hear her voice. when she finally looks up at him with those eyes, he almost tilts his head.

how can someone be so fuckin’ pretty?

she’s a vision with her bare face. eyes he could get lost in, features he wants to admire for moments on end. he would actually guess that she’s quite sweet behind the haze of her frustration. obviously a multifaceted person, and he’s interested in the idea of learning all those facets. who she is, maybe what she likes, what she doesn’t like. maybe even what makes her happy, what would put a smile on the adorably scrunched up face. for some reason, he wants to see that happy expression. actually, as a matter of fact, he wants to see all her expressions. smiling, confused, relaxed, aroused. she’s caught him with a simple gaze and he’s confused about it.

“you actually know what you’re doing?” she asks. it’s not meant to be a jab, truthfully. she’s been hit on by guys that try to “help” just to flirt, but ultimately make a fool of themselves— and her for giving them the opportunity. she doesn’t have the patience for it today, it in fact might be the straw that breaks her back. she can see amusement tickle at his expression, but no signs of him being offended.

because he’s not. he can tell she isn’t asking in a facetious way, she just seems… tired. like she doesn’t want her time wasted. he can respect that. “I promise you, I do,” he says with a slight smile. just a little one, unable to contain his utter enjoyment in her sass, and still having that almost sickening feeling of attraction.

crys hums, her gaze sweeping over him again briefly, taking in his calm but confident demeanor. the little smile on his face is lowkey pissing her off, but she has enough sense to know it’s because she has a lot of stress to work out. he’s fine as hell and now’s really not the time for all that. even still, he’s bold to come over with the metaphorical storm still rolling above her head. bold… or stupid. who walks towards a burning house? but she knows if he could tell her form was off from so far, she could really be messing herself up with how she’s going at the punching bag. she wants to just kick and punch it randomly, similar to what her ‘temper tantrum’ playlist suggests, but she knows that’s no good. and again, he’s fine as hell.

all the same, she’s still irritated and frustration-filled. “sure, yeah,” she mumbles as she turns back to the bag.

ony’s quite intrigued, interestingly enough. he knows a person close to the brink when he sees one. he can see the irritation in her eyes and in the way her shoulders are set. her movements are stiff and her brows are still pinched, gorgeous even with the possibly dangerous amount of upset toiling in her. despite her tense demeanor, he can tell she’s still at least trying to be respectful. and he appreciates it.

“what’s your name?” he asks, shifting to stand next to her. she’s staring at the bag, itching to just punch. “crys,” she answers, sparing him a glance as she fixes the wrapping on her hands. she’s pulling it tight, her movements swift. she can feel him watching her intently and she doesn’t know how she feels about it.

he nods. “ony. I’m no expert but I can share a few tips to keep you from gettin’ hurt. mind if I touch you?” he asks, the question second nature from dealing with his clients. he knows better than to start without given permission, and he definitely knows he doesn’t want to be on the receiving end of her irritation. “s’fine,” she answers, ignoring the very inappropriate response that her brain comes up with. not now, brain. nasty ass. she really just wants him to hurry up so she can go back to punching, but she supposes she can hold back for a few more minutes if it’s him that’s going to touch her. plus it’s important to do it right, and even through her upset she knows that and is grateful for his help. if he could just be a little faster, though, that’d be wonderful.

he approaches, gently taking her hand in his as he unwraps her binding. “it’s a good wrap, but they shouldn’t be too tight. you gone hurt yourself that way,” he mumbles. his hands move slowly, demonstrating to her as he explains. it’s not in the show off-y way she expected, but direct and intentional instead. she’s glad he’s helping but a part of her is focused a bit too much on how his hands feel, how calming his voice is. “you should be able to spread your fingers. this’ll save your wrists and then some, yeah?” he murmurs, gently tapping her hand. still upset, she hates how soothing the contact is. she doesn’t need soothing, she needs violence.

that… might be dramatic. she knows it. but the week’s frustrations have all built to this moment and she plans to take full advantage of the punching bag in front of her. if he doesn’t pick up the pace, he might just take its place, handsome or not. “gotcha,” she mutters. “can I hit the bag now?” ony chuckles, and she’s mad that she really likes the sound. “sure. do a couple jabs.”

she takes a deep breath, her focus zoning on the bag. his presence fades slightly as she begins going at it, a bit overzealous. he lets her take a few punches, seeing how she obviously needs it. his gaze sweeps her form, watching her hips swivel slightly as she swings. her hits start with a decently healthy form, but the more she gets into it, ony can tell her focus is slipping. “okay, hold,” he murmurs. she doesn’t hear him and continues punching. her breathing is picking up and the cute scrunch between her brows is deepening. “hold,” he says louder, getting her attention. she huffs and raises out of her stance, blowing a stray out of her face. she steps forward and holds the bag to stop its movements, looking over at him.

ony could almost laugh at the way the curl flops right back into place. swears he could almost see her eyebrow twitch. damn, who pissed her off? “you got some good habits and some bad habits,” he mumbles, standing parallel to her now. “need to swing your hips more, not push through your arm. pop the bag, don’t push your punch.” he moves slowly as he speaks, demonstrating his words with his movements. it’s easy to follow, but his muscles are stealing the show, to crys’ dismay. “I was doing that,” she mumbles in response because she indeed was. “mhm, at the beginning. the more you put in, the less you focus on your form,” he says as he returns to his earlier position, arms crossed. “go again,” he nods. “bossy,” she mumbles. she likes it. he’s giving proper tips and doesn’t really care about her attitude, seeming unaffected.

ony chuckles, seemingly knowing there’s no actual anger in her tone, at least not completely directed at him. crys supposes he’s right. when she gets in the flow, her mind focuses less on her form and more on the happenings of the week. she definitely could’ve weakened her stance, and his words bring memories of her previous instructor. he might not be an expert, but he knows what he’s saying for sure. she gets back into her stance and takes a few more hits, more focused on her form this time around. she can’t quite lose herself to the exercise with the newfound focus, and she doesn’t like it. “better,” ony calls out. “keep goin’.” so she does. she follows his instructions to a t, feeling a bit more comfortable with the continued form as she practices.

“nice, real nice,” he murmurs, shifting to hold the bag from behind. he notices the hesitation in her movements as she focuses on her form. “come on,” his deep voice encourages. “where that fire go, huh? tellin’ me you can’t fight and focus?” crys, probably feeling goaded, looks up to him for a moment. ony could laugh again at the look in her eyes, but he doesn’t. “don’t look at me, look at the bag. you mad, I know it. let it out,” he nods his head to the bag in his hands. he doesn’t have to tell her twice. she starts to hit with more vigor, putting more into her punches. “mhm, yeah. control that shit, stay tight. swivel your— there you go, exactly,” he encourages. she’s picking it up, movements smoother and becoming more confident by the minute.

shit’s sexy as fuck.

crys is actually starting to fuck with him more, feeling herself in the workout. the way he’s talking is having an affect on her, and she knows she’ll be thinking back on this very moment tonight. his voice is deep, and slightly raspy as she keeps at it, and the encouraging makes her wonder if he’s like that in… different circumstances. she can feel her breath picking up for several reasons. “had you mad as fuck, huh? had you fucked up?” ony questions, pushing her a bit more. “let that shit out, ma. ain’t doin’ you no good to hold it in.” they both know that he’s telling the truth. she was just about bursting at the seams and his encouragement is helping her tap back into that. she punches harder, small grunts falling from her lips. the week’s frustrations are pouring out of her now and she’s pushing herself so that she can get him out of her head.

the way he’s talking to her in her amped up state just shouldn’t be legal. she’s pretty sure he’s the type to talk his girl through it, probably tease and taunt to get a reaction. damn, she needs to get laid. “form,” he reminds as her focus slips. she gives a quick nod, readjusting herself quickly before taking another shot. ony likes how quickly she responds to his guidance. “hell yeah, you got that shit. keep goin’, mama. ain’t nobody fuckin’ with you, that’s for damn sure.”

damn his fine ass with his deep voice and his face and his pet name.

she keeps going until every ounce of upset is drained, listening to his encouragement and occasional shit talking at a particularly weak punch or slip of focus. she’ll be honest, she feels good. great, actually. she feels as if she actually knows what she’s doing, confident in her moves. the upset has trickled away, but its absence is leaving too much space to think about the man in front of her. his fine ass is pushing her in the way she likes and needs, encouraging but taunting just the way she likes it.

after several more minutes, she steps back, panting. “killed that shit,’ ony mumbles, double tapping the bag. she really did, the difference between her earlier attempts and now is stark. and all because of just a few pointers. he watches as she catches her breath and unwraps her hands. “you done?” he questions. he wasn’t expecting her to finish so soon, she was just getting in her groove. he was honestly expecting a few more rounds.

“yeah,” crys answers as she nods. “thanks for your help, really. just needed to blow off some steam.” feeling better now, she decides that she should finish out with her regular workout. the less angry she is, the more she focuses on that damn smirk on his face, the way his muscles move with each shift of his body, the birthmark she’s spotted on his jaw. she’s trying hard to resist the pull she feels as she catches her breath. she gets another chuckle from ony. “could tell. I almost didn’t even come over. bad day?”

crys gives a sheepish smile, sliding her wrap in her bag. ony likes the smile a lot, but he wants more. “my bad. bad week, actually,” the woman responds. ony shakes his head, uncrossing his arms. “no harm, I get it,” he responds. and he really does, most of the time people’s attitudes really have nothing to do with you. “you should keep at it though, you got good form. at least when you’re focused. with some more practice, you could easily make it muscle memory.” and I’d like to see you more, he thinks. crys smiles and nods. “think I will. thanks again for your help, woulda been pissed if I hurt myself.”

ony’s eyes trail over her features. with the metaphorical cloud gone, she’s shining brighter. her smile is gorgeous, revealing a small gap in her teeth and a crinkle by her eyes. yeah. fuckin’ beautiful. “course. can’t have you gettin’ mad again, yeah?” he laughs, the sound deep as it rumbles from his chest. crys playfully rolls her eyes. “whatever, ony. actin’ like I’m godzilla or something. you can gone back to your workout.”

the two separate, continuing their sessions. but their eyes continuously meet as they sneak glances at each other and they exchange flirty quips. crys questions the amount of weight ony chooses for his sets, teasing that she’d thought he’d lift more. ony calls her out for a weak rep, telling her she should start over for half-assing. they just can’t seem to get enough of each other, teasing and poking at one another like crushing kids in school.

crys is definitely eating their interactions up. he’s fun in a way that isn’t childish, regardless of how he makes her almost giddy like a teenage girl. he’s not afraid to go along with a joke, but it’s obvious he’s not one to be messed with. no matter how many shots she takes, no matter how much she teases, he never breaks a sweat. it’s almost as if he’s welcoming the challenge and crys is more than willing to indulge.

ony likes her fire. it’s invigorating and it keeps him on his toes. he’s used to women being like becca— fawning, overly sweet, and obviously interested. the push and tug he gets from crys is different, and he’s enjoying every interaction, every tease, every glance at that ass. she just draws him in and he can’t get enough. where the hell has she been and why are they just now meeting? he could’ve shown her a lot more than boxing tips by now.

for her cool down, crys decides that since the gym is pretty much empty, she can take some extra time to do some yoga and meditation. she zones in and takes a plethora of deep breaths, regulating her nervous system and releasing tension. grounding herself in the present moment and releasing stress, anxiety, and frustration. it definitely helps as a follow up to the punching bag. she’s always appreciated how centered she feels after even just a few minutes of reconnecting with herself, tending to her mind, heart, and soul and not just her body. she should definitely do yoga often to stay balanced, but shoulda woulda coulda.

the second she starts to stretch, ony’s eyes are stuck on her like glue. she stretches for a long time, he notices. it seems like some type of meditation, the way she holds her hands together and closes her eyes, highly focused as she takes deep breaths almost audible where he stands. it’s interesting how he can notice the shift she makes from her earlier demeanor. she’s much calmer, locked in in a way unexpected to him. of course he knows how to calm himself, how to regulate. but those stretches… not only is he sure he could never replicate them due to lack of flexibility, but he can see the intention in each move, seemingly in each muscle and breath.

it’s weird to him how pulled he feels in her direction. he just wants to know her and is curious if she’d give him the chance. and of course he wants to know her body too… he could definitely help her relieve a lot of that stress. over and over again. probably until she couldn’t take anymore. something about her just keeps pulling him back in. maybe he’s just interested in her newness with his life currently feeling a bit more dull, but he knows he’d be just as interested if it wasn’t. she has spice, a good sense of humor, sweetness, she’s undoubtedly beautiful with all her little quirks, and that ass is the kind that a man would go to war for.

seriously.

especially with the way she’s sitting and stretching with her legs wide, chest flush against the floor. it’s making ony have thoughts, and a lot of them. after a while of being unable to stop looking, he decides to walk over. he stands above her with his arms crossed, head tilting as he looks down at her. “how the hell you even doin’ allat?” he murmurs quietly, almost to himself. and what else can she do? he wonders.

crys laughs in response, still enjoying the feel of the stretch. “I do it often. years of youtube videos, I guess,” she responds. she raises, intentionally moving slow for the practice. it’s just a bonus that she can feel his eyes on her ass. “sit down,” she grins, looking up at him with mischief in her eyes. he had his turn helping her, and now she’s going to do the same. whether he likes it or not. plus, it’d be real nice to spend some more time with him. she likes his presence and his laugh and his little jokes. his looks, his demeanor, the way he’s not scared when she nips at him instead either remains unaffected or nips right back… kind of everything about him, so far at least. “huh?” he asks, eyebrows raising. “nigga, if you can ‘huh’ you can hear. sit down and stretch with me,” she laughs.

ony likes the sound. a lot, he realizes. and her sass really tickles him. so why not? he shrugs, plopping down on the floor next to her.

“yoga’s more than stretchin’,” she begins. “yeah, it feels good for the body, but it’s good for the mind too. it’s a lot deeper than I can explain. it’s one of those things that’s been taken from another culture and kinda wiped of its authenticity.” he watches her as she talks with her hands, her caring a lot more about it than he expected. but he’s interested and following along with her words. “I try to respect it, y’know? it has a lot of benefits. can I touch?” she asks with a tilt of her head. he appreciates how her curls bounce with the movement and gives a simple nod of his head. “sit up straight,” she adjusts his back. “and keep your focus on your breath, keeping an awareness of your body as well. stay mindful of the present moment.”

the moment her hand touches him, he sits up. not because of her words but because of the feel of her hands on him. she’s gentle with her guidance, her touch almost hesitant and her voice has softened in a way that sends a slight chill down his spine. “sorry, are my hands cold?” she asks apologetically. “as fuck,” he answers with a laugh. “keep goin’ though.” crys laughs and pinches him softly. “aht, aht, I’m the teacher now, I give the directions. straighten out your legs.” ony rolls his eyes in response but follows her instruction. he mumbles a soft “yeah, aight.”

she gently bumps her shoulder against his at his sass. “lean forward and reach for your feet, curving your back. take a moment to center yourself, focusing on your breath and how your body feels. don’t think about anything, not even me,” she teases slightly. ony can’t help but smile at that. “you make it difficult, sweetheart,” he mumbles. her stomach flutters in response. he takes a deep breath before closing his eyes, reaching for his feet. “don’t forget to breath, nice and deep. relax your mind and let your thoughts fade away,” she mutters softly. “relax. really feel the peace and the stretch.”

oh, ony feels something, alright. but he focuses his mind on the way his muscles feel. he’s used to stretching, but the mental part has never been the most important aspect. he likes how quiet his mind is, how the peace envelopes him like a warm hug.

she guides him through several more positions, helping him to stay centered mentally. her voice is so soothing, her touch as she adjusts him doing things to him. he feels good. really good. the combination of the practice with her presence is something he intends to make sure he gets more of. she’s so cute with her little chides. a “stretch deeper, ony” here, a “you’re not even trying” there. and her obvious favorite, “you know you can do better than that”. actually, no, her favorite thing to say in reprimand is his name. it’s a pleasant hint of flirting and teasing mixed with gentle guidance and words of calm.

by the end of the night, ony’s hooked. before she can walk to the locker room, he gently grabs her wrist to get her attention. “hey, wait, ma,” he murmurs softly. she looks up at him with those eyes again and he’s suddenly parched. “can I get your number? you know, I can send you some boxing tips.” crys tries to fight a smile but fails. “oh, really? boxing tips? sure, long as I can send some yoga tips.” he laughs a bit, smiling at her tone. “yeah, send ‘em. gotta be on my namaste more, shit was nice.” crys tilts her head back slightly as she laughs. “boy, whatever. here.”

ᥫ᭡

crys is folding. real bad.

at first, she thought she’d just do some light flirting, maybe just tease and taunt and go on about her merry way. she didn’t have any intentions on really following through with the man because he just seems like a threat to her safe, protected little bubble of diy nails and chilling alone at home. but as time goes on, she realizes that she’s in a quicksand situation. swapped informational videos of boxing and yoga are just the beginning. soon, they’re texting back and forth. funny videos sent at way too late at night, a range of questions exchanged as they get to know each other, random voice messages that make her stomach tingle… she looks forward to speaking with him, even changes his text tone so she knows when it’s him.

he’s just so funny in such a simple, straightforward way. sometimes she bites at him and he doesn’t budge a bit, not giving her the satisfaction of a reaction. sometimes they go back and forth like a tennis match. he’s not afraid of her sass and she loves when he actually bites back. he’s just… attractive. in a lot of ways, on so many different levels. she ends up going to the gym late more often because he’ll be there, spotting her while she lifts and helping her with her boxing. ms. becca at the front desk seems to really not like it, but her non-working ass can move on somewhere. crys and ony start a routine that whenever she comes to work out with him, they grab food and sit in one of their cars to goof around. they even decide to power walk with mrs. etta every now and then.

it’s insanity to kt, though. she doesn’t understand why they haven’t ‘fucked each other like bunnies’ already and she reminds crys every time they talk. they’d scrolled his instagram together several times and he’s a popular topic between the two of them, three including kt’s boyfriend. he, of course, has a front row seat to these conversations since ms. kt never wants to use her damn headphones.

one particular night, crys is just really not feeling the workout. she’s more tired than usual and ony can tell. she’s not her usual, witty self. not a single jab has any bite to it, and it’s the same with her words. he doesn’t like it. she’s not supposed to be quiet or sad. he doesn’t like the distant look in her eyes and how she gives a weak smile at his teasing. “hey,” he murmurs. “go get changed and get your stuff.” he watches as she looks up at him with a furrowed brow. “you’re obviously not feelin’ up to it. we’ve done enough, let’s grab sum to eat.”

crys was going to push through, get her workout regardless. “nah, I’m good,” she shrugs him off. “no, you ain’t. quit playin’, it’s not a suggestion,” he grumbles back. that surprises her, but she guesses it shouldn’t really. one thing that she’s noticed is how good he is at reading people, and he’s really good at reading her now. he knows when to push, and has learned how to in several different circumstances. she guesses this is one of them. his tone is different than usual though. it’s set, no room for negotiations, no joking around. his eyes are focused and sharp in a way that almost even she doesn’t want to argue with. “…right. yeah, okay. I can go by myself though, you can finish your workout,” she mutters softly.

“what I say?”

crys didn’t need to be told again. his whole demeanor is looking more immovable than ever, eyes and tone telling her to get her ass to the locker room, basically. if it were anyone else, she would’ve fired back and asked who the hell he thought he was. but at this point, she’s too tired and she really doesn’t want to poke the bear. so she sighs and nods, grabbing her bag as she shuffles back to the locker room to get her stuff. she’s grateful, honestly, because as soon as she sits in the passenger seat of his car, she feels like she’s been hit by a bus but it’s really just a wave of exhaustion.

“you pushin’ too hard, ma,” he murmurs, his eyes on the road as he drives. he’s seen her energy decreasing over time, the spark in her eyes dimming. he’d slide a comment in or two about taking a break only for her to brush it off like it was no problem. she’s stubborn and he knows that, but fully capable of taking care of herself, which is why he wasn’t expecting it to get this far. she’s drained and he’ll be damned if he just stands by and watches her continue down this path. especially with the way her head is leaning against his window. usually he’d say something about her hair products getting on it, but he couldn’t give a damn about that.

“you been slackin’ and you know it. wassup?” he questions as he spares her a glance. she sighs, her eyes closing as he makes the familiar trip to their usual spot. “stress. I’ve just been stressed,” she answers. that much he could tell. it’s not really the information he’s looking for though. “mhm. why?” he presses. his voice is a mix of tenderness and concern but also firmness. he’s not going to let her brush this under the rug. “just a lot of shit goin’ on, ony. work’s a mess, they can barely do anything without me there they’re always arguing and never getting anything done. I’ve been looking for another job for months with no luck and it’s really starting to become a problem because I want to leave soon. and I don’t know, I just want to be in a different situation than I am right now.”

ony hums, rolling her words over in his head. he knows she’s been trying to leave her job, even sent her resume out to a few people he knows just to help out. he can understand her frustration, he was in a similar boat before he started his own thing and became a personal trainer. he gets it, the stress from working in a place that drains you and how so many job rejections can affect a person. “it’s alright, ma. I know that don’t mean much to you right now, but it’s gone work out, aight? I’ll put some pressure on my folks, help see what’s out there. you still got some pto right?” he asks. she sighs, rubbing her forehead. “yeah, but I’ve been saving it for a rainy day.” he could almost chuckle.

“it don’t seem like it’s rainin’ to you?” he pushes slightly. “take some time off. rest and relax so you can come back better. do yo yoga and shit, smoke some, whatever. you need a break, babygirl. no positive change is gonna come from you stressin’ and burnin’ out. it’s a three day weekend coming up, take the couple days before that off too.” she looks out the window as they pull into the drive thru. he’s right and she knows it. it’s just so easy for her to get swept up into the stress and lose herself a little bit more and more until she realizes just how close she is to burning out. she can feel tears gathering in her eyes from the stress.

“oh, pretty girl,” he mumbles, seeing the emotion in her eyes. he pulls off to the side and parks in the back of the lot instead of getting in line. “c’mere, crystal,” he croons, reaching an arm around her to pull her close. she sniffles and her shoulders shake as she cries into his shoulder, letting out what she’s let build up for so long. “s’okay, ma. you really doin’ good shit, providin’ for yourself and workin’ hard. it’s gonna work out, you gotta believe that,” he presses, squeezing her tighter. “but you can’t do this, okay? you can’t wither away like this. your health is important and if you neglect it, it’ll affect everything. I don’t like seein’ you upset and tired and drained. wanna see that pretty smile, get a taste of that sass that irks me so much.” she laughs slightly in his arms, her own wrapping around him as he gives her the most comforting hug she’s had in a while. “you’re right or whatever. big headed ass,” she mumbles.

“there she is.”

ᥫ᭡

after that night, she did exactly what he suggested. she took those extra days off and just recovered. smoked, slept a whole bunch, had a self-care day, and even booked a massage just for an extra treat. of course she talked ony’s ear off, and texted him and her best friend a bunch too, but it was necessary in her eyes. she knows they love her presence, even if they call her annoying. by her last day off, she feels rejuvenated.

she feels less stressed. she has a revamped resume, a mini twist out that’s cute and lets her leave her hair alone, new nails, and a new attitude. but… crys is running out of excuses to give as far as her and ony. his support that night meant more to her than he probably even knew. the way he held her, calmed her down, and comforted her… it’s something that’s been plaguing dancing in her mind. he’s shown that he can handle her full range of emotions no problem and can support her regardless of how strongly she feels. at this point, even she’s started to wonder why they haven’t done anything. she hasn’t made a move, no, but neither has he. he seems perfectly content with the way things are and is starting to become bothersome.

she can’t get him out of her head. his voice, his laugh, his features. every time he encourages her while she’s going at the punching bag, she wants to push the damn thing out of the way and just tackle him. when she can feel his eyes on her while they stretch, she wants to show him exactly what she can do and how her flexibility can blow his fucking mind. she wants to kiss him, touch him, hear those encouraging words that he gives her in an entirely different setting.

but his lack of action is causing her to overthink. is he not as affected as she is? does his heart not pound in her presence like hers does in his? how the hell is she the only one gnawing her lip at the thought of more? maybe it’s because she hasn’t had sex in so long. maybe that’s it. she’s just like this because of her wack ass sex life.

contrary to crys’ perspective, though, ony is losing his shit.

he definitely would’ve made a move by now if these were usual circumstances. he’s just so thrown off by how much he likes her, how much she makes him feel. she’s so much more than that pretty face and that mouth watering body. she’s funny, witty, and she packs a nasty ass punch both with her words and her hands. he likes the full range of crys. mouthy and annoying, intentionally trying to get a raise out of him. flirty and teasing, sensual in the way she draws him in. sweet and serene, almost like an oasis of calm and tranquility. oh, and he can’t forget how expressive she is with every emotion. her anger when her order’s wrong at the late night burger place they frequent, her excitement and joy when mrs. etta tells her about another good scan at the doctor, her sadness when she sees a sad tiktok during rest periods.

he just doesn’t get it. how can one person be so damn enthralling? how can someone’s quirks and flaws be so beautiful? he’s never felt pulled like this, but you know what? he’s fucking with it. she’s done nothing but add color to his life, a great addition that he felt like he was waiting for without even knowing. he loves her presence. she makes him smile and belly laugh, she pisses him off, she lights him up. he can be goofy with her, serious, sensitive even. he just wants more and more of crys, and even when he thinks maybe there’s nothing left to surprise him about her, she whips something new out of her arsenal. it’s just crazy how she has him by the throat but he’s happy to be along for the ride.

but he’s really wanting that ride to go somewhere. he’s always thought that it was crazy that crys is single, he just doesn’t understand it. in his eyes, she’s everything great in a woman. confident, sensitive, hardworking, sweet… annoying but in the best ways, enthralling, sexy as all hell.

when he’s ranting to eren about her for the nth time, the brunette raises an eyebrow at him and asks what’s taking him so long to ask her out. ony blinks. he thought they were… well, something already. but the sense that’s been chasing him for quite a while now finally catches up to him and hits him like a truck. he has to say something. do something. the unspoken thing doesn’t work for adults, and definitely not if he actually wants to keep her. is he an idiot? he wants to say no to his own question so badly, but he knows he would be delusional if he did.

so he quickly decides to get his shit together. the next time he sees crys, he’s asking her on an actual date, and that’s it. this whole thing could’ve been at a different point if he’d taken his head out of his ass and asked her out that first night he saw her in the gym. but it’s too late to try to change the past, and he can fix his mistakes in the present.

ᥫ᭡

unfortunately for ony, crys has a nasty attitude the next time they meet. her answers are short and snippy, and not in the usual, fun way. they had plans to go shopping together to buy mrs. etta a congratulatory something for completing her treatment, both having become extremely fond of the lady and being supportive of her on her journey. ony picks her up, being the gentleman he is (he hates her driving) and it takes no time at all to notice the bitter air around her. he actually realizes it the second she closes the door to her townhouse too damn hard. she huffs and puffs as she gets settled in the passenger seat.

crys doesn’t really know exactly why she’s so mad. it’s another one of those days where the stress has built up so quickly without her noticing, something that happens when her head isn’t fully in the game. she doesn’t want to take it out on ony, never means to, but something about knowing that he can handle that shit keeps her from being as mindful as she should be. “hey,” he speaks, his eyebrow raising at her lack of greeting. “hey,” she greets blandly. “what’s wrong, ma?” he asks, looking from her to the road as he pulls off. she just shakes her head. “thanks for picking me up,” she murmurs. “of course,” he responds.

he’s eyeing her every once in a while, trying to pick up on whatever he can. she’s fiddling a lot, tapping her fingers as she looks out the window. antsy? irritated? what is it, he wonders. but he’s not super fond of playing the guessing game, by now she should know that she can talk to him about any and everything on her mind and in her heart. he’ll listen, he’ll care, and he’ll support. hasn’t he shown that? “you lyin’ to me, ma. don’t like it,” he mumbles. she doesn’t answer and he really doesn’t like that. “what’s the issue, crys? talk,” he presses, his eyebrows furrowing slightly. this isn’t anything he’s used to from her. mouthy sometimes? sure. that’s nothing he can’t handle. but the silent treatment mixed with the tense attitude is not how he was planning to spend this time with her.

“nothin’, just tired.” she murmurs. his eyebrows furrow. “we can reschedule if you want,” he responds, understanding. “nah,” she says simply. she can’t explain it, she doesn’t really want to act like this. she’s just not exactly happy at the moment and the two seem to have very different vibes. guess that’s the theme, huh? she thinks. “mama, you not bein’ fair. tryna talk to you,” he mumbles. she rolls her eyes, looking out the window. “yeah, talk. your favorite thing to do,” she mumbles.

ony pauses, but only for a moment. “and that’s supposed to mean?” crys sighs, as if she’s really just over him. “nothing, ony, m’sorry. are we goin’ to macy’s or ross first?” she’s trying to deflect, and although ony’s not stupid, he lets her. maybe she just needs time, she can be like that every now and then. carrying around irritation from an earlier incident until it eventually fades and she’s good to go. sometimes she just needs to process her emotions, and ony’s cool with that. he’s cool with anything with her, it seems.

they end up at ross first, mrs. etta’s favorite store that she talks about when they power walk with her. they get her random things, little trinkets that remind them of her, lotions and candles, and a few decorative pieces for her house. they move to macy’s to get her a perfume she likes, and a few other random things that draw their attention. last is dollar.25 tree and a couple other craft stores, the mission being to grab a big basket and additional stuffing to make her a custom gift basket with a congratulatory card from both of them. crys is quieter than usual the entire time, but not necessarily agitated. it seems like shopping for mrs. etta is cheering her up.

seems.

once they get to her house, ony can tell by the way she groans as she flops onto her couch that she’s not a hundred percent. at this point, he’s confused and maybe a bit worried. what is it that has her so upset? he doesn’t like when she’s quiet, much rather her be loud and expressive with whatever emotion she’s feeling. it’s eerie when she’s quiet and ony can’t tell what she’s thinking or feeling. he doesn’t like to be in the dark.

“c’mon, ma, let’s go ahead and get this assembled. we can talk and smoke after,” he mumbles, moving to set the stuff down on her dining room table. he wants to sit and smoke, get her to shake herself out of whatever fucking funk she’s in, but he figures it’s a good idea to finish up mrs. etta’s gift. he really wants it to be perfect. he’s known mrs. etta for a while, she was even one of the people that encouraged him the most when he first started training, and he’s extremely happy that her treatment is done. a bratty sigh is heard from the girl on the couch and ony has to close his eyes to center himself. “we can’t take a break? all that shopping. m’tired.”

ony licks his lips and lets out a breath. “sure, ma, take a break. imma get started on this, I’ll chill after,” he responds. crys doesn’t like the little breath he takes, his tone coming across patronizing to her. “you tired of me? cause I can really do that shit by myself,” she responds lowly. she swears she can see a vein appear on ony’s forehead, but only momentarily. “nah. just want this gift to be good,” he mumbles. crys sits up to look at him. “it’s good already, we put a lot of thought into everything. what, you think I can’t assemble it myself?” her head tilts. because she could make the prettiest damn basket all on her own, really. she’ll prove it if she has to.

ony’s on the brink. he’s been patient all day— he’s always patient with her. it’s usually no issue, but today she’s really pushing it. mrs. etta should be the focus right now. “you don’t hear me talkin’ to you?” she asks, her eyebrows beginning to furrow. “yes, love, I hear you,” he murmurs. “just focused.” he’s really trying to keep it together.

crys scoffs, “yeah, well, you can focus and talk. you wouldn’t have to focus as much if you waited on me.” ony wonders what he did to be in this position. he hasn’t done shit to her, hasn’t said anything disrespectful, and he knows that she isn’t usually one to take her shit out on him, so he’s just thinking. wondering what has her so mad. “there you go again, not fuckin’ responding,” she huffs, standing up and crossing her arms. “you can just get the hell out forreal, I can finish this mysel—“

“sit the fuck down.”

crys blinks. and then blinks again. “excuse me?” she asks. she couldn’t have heard that right. he wouldn’t talk to her like that, he’s not insane. but the look he gives when he turns to her gives her second thoughts on that theory. “you heard me. sit the fuck down. I’m not leavin’ and you’re about to act like you have some fucking respect instead of poppin’ off at the mouth. I’ve dealt with your shit ask damn day, trying to be patient and understanding— like I always am with yo lil ass. I’m not playin’ crys. sit down,” he demands. and he really means that shit too, she can tell.

crys’ jaw is damn near on the floor by the time he finishes talking. “who you talkin’ t—“ she starts, only to be interrupted by a slow approaching ony, having put the materials he was working with down. “crys, I swear, if you don’t get some act right—“ he starts, trying to keep his breath even and his body calm. tired of being interrupted, crys decides to give him a taste of his own medicine. “what? what you gone do? talk my ear off? stand there and look at me with your arms crossed? I ain’t scared of you, ony. you don’t do shit and won’t do shit to me.”

“nah. I’ma fuck you,” he answers as he steps into her personal space. if crys’ jaw was on the floor before, it’s in hell now. there’s no way he just said that. “fuck that nasty ass attitude right outta you. you playin’ in my face, ma. you know I don’t like that shit. I’ve been so fuckin’ understanding with yo ass, somethin’ not every nigga is willin’ to do, by the way. you push and you push and I let yo ass. is that the problem?” he tilts his head, chest almost touching hers as he looks down. his eyes are dark, his jaw tense. the vein she thought she saw earlier is bulging now, almost angrier than ony himself. “is the problem that I let yo lil ass keep pushin’ me? cause I swear it don’t mean that I’ll just let the shit slide. and I’ll prove that shit too.”

ᥫ᭡

“fuck,” crys pants, tugging on the sheets in front of her. “please,” her voice breaks. “just— just lemme come. I’m so close, ony, please!”

she’s been on all fours for a while now, face buried in the bed as ony works her with his tongue and fingers. she’s in a pool of her own arousal, thighs wet and pussy drenched from the several times she’s been close to the edge, only to be disappointed each time as she’s denied her orgasm. her bottom lip is bitten raw, toes almost permanently curled and eyes finding a home in the back of her head as she pushes her hips back again and again to coax ony to at least let her have one. if she knew this was going to be the result of her attitude today, she would’ve just asked him to fuck her before they even left to go shopping. she’s waited enough for this, and even now when she’s so close, she’s getting denied.

there’s a harsh but absolutely welcome smack to her ass and she whines so damn pathetically that ony almost laughs. pulls his full lips from her clit with a pop and massages the cheek. “you want me to stop?” he asks, his voice low and raspy in a way unfamiliar to crys. she quickly shakes her head and grips the sheets tighter. “no, please! keep going, wanna come on your face,” she begs, pushing her hips to meet his lips again. the sound and sight of her is addicting, ony thinks. he likes the way she seems so desperate for his touch and tongue, craving that release that he’s been building up for so long. “you wanna come?” he asks, his fingers sliding back into her soaked pussy. he can feel her clench around him almost instantly. fuck he’s going to enjoy tonight. “yes! yes, wanna come!” she pants, rocking her hips to meet the thrust of his long fingers.

“then shut the fuck up and let me have my fun,” he murmurs, diving his face back in as his tongue meets her clit once again. “ah, shit,” she whimpers, her eyes rolling back again at the pleasure that washes over her. “yes, yes, just like that. fuck, you eatin’ my pussy up,” she moans. she’s never been so mad but so pleased at the same time. he’s torturing her and she doesn’t know how much longer she can last before she releases all over him without his say so. she’s already been through so much, she doesn’t want to find out what else he’ll do , even if it’s his fault. “my fuckin’ pussy,” he pulls back to murmur, flicking his tongue quickly over her pearl as his fingers continue to pump. she’s so wet, his fingers move with ease, and the sound that’s made is delicious. “say that shit.”

“fuck, I’ll say whatever you want,” she whines, back arching and toes throwing up gang signs. “s’your pussy, baby! take it take it take it,” she moans, throwing her ass back over and over. she’s so damn close, so damn close. she can almost taste it. her tummy feels like it’s about to burst and her poor pussy is sobbing. he pulls back once again to her dismay, reading her body like a book. “you betta not fuckin’ come,” he murmurs, fingers moving faster as they stretch her. how the hell is she not supposed to come? is he insane? “you fuckin’ kidding meee?” she whines, her head falling down onto the sheets. ony likes how spent she looks already, and he hasn’t even fucked her yet. “you know damn well I ain’t,” he grumbles, smacking her ass again. “arch that shit. it’s gone be a long night if you don’t listen to me, baby.”

in a turn of events, ony’s pussy drunk. he’s enjoying himself way too much, taking in her moans and slurping up what’s now his to pleasure. he’s just drowning in her, hands exploring everywhere he can touch. caressing, appreciating, adoring this beautiful woman falling apart on his tongue. he could do this all day and be grateful every second of it. he’s absolutely aching in his shorts, but something about bringing such a normally mouthy girl to babbles is too hard to turn away from. he didn’t even mean to take it this far, he just doesn’t want to stop. he wants her to keep feeling good, and the way she begs and reaches back for him to bring him closer lets him know that he’s doing his job

“please, I can’t,” she begs, back arching but breath deepening. “ony, I caan’tt, m’gonna come,” she whines. she’s trying, really she promises she is, but it’s just become too hard to hold out. it’s too good, she wants it and needs it. if he doesn’t stop or give her the green light, she’s gonna make a mess of both of them, and she’s not going to regret it. ony groans at her whines, basking in the sound of her begging and pleading. he can feel how she’s clenching, hears the desperation in her voice. she’s gone, melting into a pile of goo at his touch, and he’s never felt more satisfied. not only are they both having the times of their lives, but that attitude is just about gone and she’s actually acting like she has some fucking manners.

he reluctantly pulls back and removes his hand from her, licking at his fingers like a man starved. “flip over,” he huffs, standing and palming his aching dick. she seems to be too out of it, raising her head full of messy curls to look up in his general direction. “w-what?” she questions. ony doesn’t have time for her shit, so he grabs her hips and flips her over his damn self. the way he looks down at her is downright sinful and crys flutters simply at the sight. “fuckin’ bratty ass. you did this to yourself, crys. was gonna take you on a nice ass date, make love with your pretty ass, do shit the right way. but that fuckin’ mouth of yours,” he grumbles as he grabs her by her ankles, pulling her to the end of the bed. “is too damn bold with me. gotta fix that, sweetheart. you gone be my good girl after tonight, I can promise you that.”

she whines and grinds against his hand as his thumb traces circles on her puffy clit. looking down at her, he realizes that this is one of his favorite sights now. her eyes are blurry with tears from the constant denial, her face scrunched in a cute and sexy pout of pleasure, her tits shifting with each movement. ony could watch her like this all day, bringing her to the edge over and over just to see those pretty tears fall and hear that voice of hers crack. that’d only be torture for himself as well because he feels like he’s about to burst. “you so damn beautiful. you want this dick, sweetheart? tell me, I’ll give it to you,” he murmurs, licking his lips as he lets his shorts fall. crys whines and nods, unruly curls all over the place. so damn breathtaking.

“gimme it, please. wanna come all over it, baby. paint it for you,” she begs. her arms reach to hook around the back of her knees, pulling her thighs back slightly to open up for him. her words only serve to rile him up more. “you a lil freak, huh? mmm, you can do better than that, baby. stretch them legs like I know yo lil freaky ass can,” he grumbles, pulling his underwear down and off, his cock hanging low between his legs. crys knew it— she just knew it was big, and she was right. it’s long and thick with a minimal curve, and if she wasn’t so deprived she’d get on her knees and pay him back for the teasing. she whimpers and bites her lip, sliding her hands to hook behind her knees instead. she pulls her thighs flush to her chest and keeps going, extending her legs.

“fuck, yeah, baby, show me that pretty pussy. fat pussy all mine,” he grumbles. he lessens their distance, letting himself rest on her as he takes her in. what a fucking vision of a woman. he takes his dick in his hand and lightly taps it against her before her rubs himself all in her wetness. “look at ‘chu, baby. so fuckin’ sloppy. this all for me?” he asks, tilting his head as he looks back to her face. she goes to speak, but ony considers her next words unimportant in the grand scheme of things. before she can speak, she feels him start to press into her. she lets out a breathy moan, her grip tightening on her legs. “f-fuck,” she moans at the same time ony lets a groaning “shiiit,” pass his lips.

the two pant, looking each other in the eyes as he continues to press forward. crys is seeing stars, feeling the stretch of him. her face scrunches and her eyes begin to close. “mm-mm, keep them pretty eyes on me,” ony‘s breathing heavy , his hand coming to lightly wrap around her throat. “sexy ass. you bet not deny me that shit.” crys can only lick her lips, forcing her eyes open to meet his, clenching at the way he speaks. his words add to the growing fire within her. “there you go, baby. love that shit,” he murmurs, leaning forward to press his lips against hers in a nasty, sloppy kiss. crys is upset at the fact that this man is really bringing her to her knees. “so damn fine. don’t know why I waited so long to be in yo shit. too fucking good,” he groans, pulling out just slightly before pushing back in. crys gasps, pulling her legs closer just to have something to grab, but it just makes him go deeper.

“feels so good, onyyy,” she moans, keeping the eye contact as much as she can. ony’s hovering over her now, watching her with his bottom lip between his teeth and his eyebrows together in concentration. he’s moving slowly, letting her adjust to him and just taking in the view in front of him. “onyyy,” she moans, clenching around him as her pussy flutters. he’s so damn fine and it’s been so long since she’s been touched. he’s deep in her shit and she’s on cloud nine. she wants more, so much more, and she wants it all from him. she hates it took so long to get to this point and hates that she the fact that she stopped herslef from persuing him. she wants this, needs all of him. “fuck me,” she chokes out. “c’mon, please.”

“relax,” he mutters, his free hand rubbing up her thigh. “just keep that pretty pussy open for me. I’ma always give you what you need, sweetheart. always.” and he means it. he’s never going to play with her, not her heart or her mind. but he’ll play with her pretty pussy until the sun comes up, until the cows come home. he’s never felt anything so good, seen someone so beautiful while they take his dick. she’s everything to him in this moment, her curls sprawled around her like the sun’s halo, face showing all the pleasure she’s feeling. her breathing is deep, her eyes staying on his just like he said.

he’s fucked. shit, he might just be in love.

“ooo, fuck, ony,” she keens, her nails slightly digging into the skin of her thigh. “so big. oh my God, baby.” she’s having the time of her life. he’s stretching her so well, and he feels so damn good digging into her like that. ”yeah, yeah. been waiting for thisss,” she pants, unable to keep her mouth shut. it’s just so good and it’s hitting that spot. would could blame her? “give it to me,” she moans. ony groans above her, his hips starting to meet hers sharper and sharper. she’s still so vocal, and he’s eating it the fuck up. “mhm,” he breathes, his hands moving to rest on hers, helping to hold her legs as she falters. “take that dick, babygirl. s’all for you. swear it is,” he groans. she doesn’t know it, but she could ask for just about anything right now and he’d give it to her.

her eyes scan over him, her hand reaching out to lightly scratch down his abdomen. “fuckin’ me so good, ony.”ony groans at the touch of her nails, his gut tightening at the way she’s looking up at him. he pulls out, reaching down to tap himself against her again. she’s too much, her voice, her eyes, her touch… the way she keeps clenching around him. “you fuckin’ dangerous, mama,” he pants. “can I beat this pussy up, baby? lemme take it.” crys bites her lip and nods, looking up at him in a way that makes him grip her thighs a little tighter. fucking minx. he’s beating himself up for not doing this sooner. he adjusts himself on the bed, leaning down to press his lips to hers as he slides back in, the two of them moaning into each other's mouths. he immediately picks up the pace as he sucks her bottom lip into his mouth, nibbling slightly as he presses more of his weight onto her.

crys starts to gasp with each thrust, toes curling and a squeak escaping her when she feels his hands on her clit. “w-wait— fuck, wait, m’gonna come quick,” she moans, fingers gripping ony’s shoulders as he pins one of her thighs to her chest. she wants to come with him, but her earlier pleasure is coming back with a fucking vengeance. ony chuckles— actually chuckles, and rasps down to her, “that’s the point, sweetheart. give it to me.” if she wasn’t on the brink of a mind blowing orgasm, she’d be pissed and annoyed at that fucking smirk. but instead she pants and pants until her breath stops. her orgasm washes over her in delicious waves, and she’s just frozen in pleasure, unable to do anything but come and come, pulsing around ony.

“breathe, mama. come on, breath through that shit,” ony guides, pressing kisses up and down her neck. right, breathing. she forgot about that. crys lets out a long moan, her eyes rolling back as she tastes her sweet release. sweet isn’t even the word, though. the denial and delay just makes things ten times stronger, her orgasm wracking her in a way she wasn’t prepared for. she’s holding onto ony tightly as he talks her through it, breathing heavy as she just takes it. “yeaah, there you go. breathe, baby, I got you. gonna take real good care of you just like I said,” ony grumbles, nipping at her skin here and there and slowing his thrusts and his assault on her clit. he has to pant at the way she’s so tight around him, and he’s just so strained holding back good open release. “you deserve that shit, baby.” more kisses and nips than either of them can count are placed on crys’ neck as crys comes down and tries to calm down as well.

his hand reaches to gently caress her cheek as he presses soft, sweet kisses to the other. “you’re so beautiful, babygirl. you feel okay?” he asks softly. okay? she’s riding down a fucking rainbow of happiness and bliss. okay is an understatement. crys figures that would boost his who a bit too much, so she just tilts her head to rest on the side of his. “mhm,” she hums breathlessly. “so good,” she murmurs. ony’s glad, pressing more kisses to her sweet face. he’s happy he can make her feel good, especially considering how she was sarlier in the day. “good enough to gimme another one?” he asks. he just can’t get enough, so he has to ask. he wants this night to last as long as it can.

crys lets out a breath, wondering just what the hell is wrong with the man. she’s been through the wringer for a good while now. but it’s felt amazing every step of the way, so the answer is yes. of course it’s yes. she nods. “just one more, sweetheart,” he croons, looking down at her dazed face. he pulls out, turning her over onto her stomach, much gentler this time. he guides her on all fours and reaches to rest his hand on the headboard, his other hand positioning himself once again. once he begins to push inside, his arm wraps around her torso to hold her tight as they both moan. his hips start to move again, this time with a slower pace as he braces himself on the headboard.

ony can’t help but feel the shift on the room. it’s much more intimate than before, crys sensitive from one release already. he wants to be so many things for her. he can be a little aggressive, knowing she likes when he bites back. he can be goofy and unserious. and he can be soft. he can be serious with her and about her. that’s what he wants. “wanted this for so long, baby. wanted you,” he murmurs into her ear. the sound makes her pussy flutter, causing him to chuckle again. “sh-shut up,” she mumbles, her hands slowly tightening around the sheets below them. the combination of his intimate confession and his thrusting into her is a double whammy that she didn’t see coming.

“mmm, I’m serious babygirl. want you, been wantin’ you,” he presses, eyes falling shut as his hips continue to move. she feels so good, it’s ridiculous. he’s going to be in it every day if she lets him. “gotta make you mine, ma. I’m forreal.” and he is, because what kind of idiot would he be to let her slip through his fingers? crys let’s her head fall back in a moan as he starts to gently work her clit. everything about this is just insane. who knew what today was going to bring? “y-you never… ah,” she cuts herself off with a moan as he curves his hips, fucking her in just the right way in such an intimate moment. fuck, what was she saying? “I never said anything, I know. s’my fault, no excuse. I was just too busy enjoyin’ bein’ around you,” he murmurs, moaning as he holds her tighter. his hips are starting to move a bit faster and crys is starting to meet his every thrust.

“but you mine now, right? I’ma do— fuuuck, I’ma do right by you, mama. always,” he groans. he means every word. it’s like she has a spell on him and he doesn’t care. if she wants his heart, she can take it. he leans back from the headboard, sitting up on his knees as he keeps her back against his chest. gosh, crys’ heart just flutters. “yeah,” she moans. “yeah, ony, m’yours. f-finally.” that puts a tired smile on ony’s face, his already racing heart squeezing. with one hand massaging her clit and the other now on her hip, ony begins fucking into her faster. “that’s right, baby. and I’m yours. can’t get rid of me, can’t push me away, sure as fuck not scarin’ me away,” he groans. i’d important to him that she knows that, with her lil stubborn ass.

crys reaches back behind her, grabbing onto him. “yeah, j-just like that, ony. me and youuu,” she moans, feeling that familiar sensation again. her body’s almost tired of it after so much teasing and edging and repeating. “gonna come for you, baby,” she groans. she has no fight left, it’s going to rock her and she knows it. “you gonna come for me?” he asks, his voice coming out breathy as he continues to thrust into her. he doesn’t remember the last time he felt as good as he does in this moment. he doesn’t want it to end, but he can’t hold anymore. she’s tight around him, pulsing as her release approaches once again. “paint my dick, baby, just like you said. then I’ma give you this nut,” he huffs, working his hips more and more. crys is a moaning mess, her head dipping as she feels another strong orgasm approaching. “keep breathin’,” ony croons. “want you to feel all that shit, mama.”

she breathes as even as she can, breaths deepening as she quickly approaches that line. “ohhh, ony!” she cries out, her eyes squeezing shut. ” let it out, baby, give it to me. give me that shit,” he groans to her, working her clout faster and faster as he keeps pumping into her. it’s all too much and it brings her over the edge, her toes almost cramping and hips moving without her knowledge. “there it goes, keep breathing. fuck yeah, mama, take that shit.” it’s an intense feeling and she’s chasing it, breathing like ony directs and it makes the difference. she feels the shit down to her toes. her eyes are crossed and she can’t even fucking speak, just taking whatever comes as her eyes shut tight. “that’s it, baby, feel that shit. know you feel good, I know,” he pants.

ony’s fucking into her faster, the way she’s clenching around him making his head spin. his grip tightens on her hip as he chases his own high, watching her fucked out face. she looks so good like that, spent and satisfied and his. “fuuuck, you so gorgeous, crystal. gahdamn you feel good as fuck,” he rambles, praising her over and over just because he can and she deserves it. soon, he’s pulling out and pumping himself all over her ass, groaning as his body jerks. “yeah, ony,” crys coos with a raspy voice. she’s giving a tired wiggle of her hips, encouraging him to spill all over her. “fuckin’ perfect.”

the two pant, spent from such a lovely day together. it’s silent as they just back in the afterglow of their impromptu endeavors. eventually, ony starts to press sweet, calming kisses to her shoulder and back. he appreciates the small marks on her skin, random beauty marks and freckles. “perfect, mama. you were perfect,” he rasps. as far as he’s concerned, today couldn’t have been more successful. crys is… well, crys is out of commission at the moment. her mind is fuzzy in her post orgasm bliss, and she’s catching her breath as she basks in his kisses. “fuck…” she mumbles. that was very unexpected but completely welcome. the wait was more than worth it, and now she can have that again and again and again. “yeah,” ony chuckles tiredly. “yeah, that was crazy. damn.”

the two laugh together, gross and sticky, but so happy with the situation. that line was finally crossed, and there’s no going back. not that either of them would want to, anyway. ony glances down at crys as she rests for a moment, eyes closed and lashes tickling her skin. the earlier tensions are gone, nothing but fondness and connection in it’s wake. he reaches to caress her cheekbone, tucking a curl behind her ear and out of her face. “sorry for earlier,” crys mumbles into the quiet. she really is, she doesn’t like when she projects her upset like that. she nevers wants that for anyone she’s connecting with, especially not ony. he’s been understanding with her in a way that she’s learned to deeply appreciate. “but I’m glad we did this.”

ony hums, pressing another kiss to her shoulder. he can deal with a little push from her, especially since he gets to keep her. she’s a sweet girl, and she invigorates him. he appreciates her expressiveness and range of emotions, and understands that sometimes she’s just human. he’s okay with that. but now that they’re together, he has the ability to take a different approach. sometimes she needs him to snap back at her, and that’s what he’ll do with absolutely no hesitation from now on. there’s a mutual respect and understanding, and ony really fucks with that shit. “just needed some attention… and dick,” he murmurs. and he’ll give it to her whenever, wherever.

crys groans and starts to fuss, turning to weakly slap at his chest. “oh, shut up! go get me a damn towel!” here he goes saying some slick shit, right when the moment is good. he’s such an idiot sometimes, but it never fails to put a smile on her face. ony lets out a bellowing laugh, backing off of her and standing on his only slightly wobbling legs. he hopes she didn’t see that, but she’s already talking shit again. “yeah, pussy got you walkin’ crazy,” she sasses as he starts his trek to the bathroom, watching his sweaty but oh so fine figure walk away. ”better act right or you’ll never get it again,” she huffs. ony laughs again, shaking his head. “don’t make me start this shit all over, crystal,” he calls over his shoulder. she rolls her eyes but nuzzles her face into a pillow as she grumbles under her breath. she’s not scared, she’s just still recovering, is all. “yeah, that’s what I thought,” he laughs.

soon, they’re all cleaned up and on fresh sheets, crys refusing to sleep in the crusty bedspread after everything was said and done. they get into a spat about who gets to sleep on which side of the bed, and then over whether they should sleep with some time of light on. ony also demands to cuddle, but crystal fusses that she’ll get too hot and won’t be able to sleep. for that brief period, it’s war.

eventually, though, after bargains and begrudging compromises, crys is on her back on her usual side of the bed and ony is half-sprawled on top of her, head buried in her neck and hand softly rubbing her outer thigh. a random sitcom plays with no sound and the room is a nice, cool temperature with the fan blowing on the both of them. crys caresses ony’s back gently with her nails, eyes closed as she enjoys the weight of him on top of her. the pleasant feeling is like a weighted blanket, lulling her to sleep. ony is holding crys close, enjoying her warmth and presence. he’s taking full advantage of being able to cuddle with her. they fall asleep like this, wrapped up in each other, and wondering what the next day will bring.

hoooooly moooooly. this was not supposed to be this long. was hoping to post this sooner, but the words just kept coming omg. pls excuse any mistakes lmao. hope you like it! feedback welcome and wanted 🫶🏽

#this was supposed to be 5k words #how did we get here #aot onyankopon #attack on titan #onyankapon #onyankopon smut #black oc #aot x black reader #aot x reader #ony x black reader #onyankopon x black y/n #onyankopon x reader #onyankopon x you #writings — fic

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ghostlyshellofapuppet · 2 days ago

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Blowing Jason Todd in the Batmobile

It's been a while since I wrote. For @dollscircus , hope you have a better day and hope you like it. I'm not used to writing dominant anyone.

Contains praise, lots of praise for Jason and him coming down your throat.

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A mission gone wrong led to Jason currently clutching the steering wheel of the Batmobile after he stole it from Bruce from a petty feud. Irritable and prone to snapping he drives reckless through the backstreets of Gotham, just trying to blow off steam from an accident that wasn't his fault nor yours. Everything has been building up on his shoulders for a while now, so when he hisses a snarky reply back it's no surprise.

"pull over", you demand and the glare he shoots towards you shows it's been too long since he's been fucked because when he's your good boy he wouldn't look at you with such challenge in his eyes.

"come on baby boy, don't act up so bad now. I know you're moody tonight but that doesn't mean you can act so poorly towards me", spoken caring but firm and he hesitates before his eyes soften slightly and he pulls over. A "good boy" said with a hand cupping his cheek and eventually he climbs into the backseat at your request.

"can I remove these pants, pretty boy?", you ask as you kneel in front of him with a hand on his thigh rubbing softly and he nods with the slightest blush as he avoids eye contact, turned from mean dog to shy puppy too quick for his comfort.

"nuh uh, look at me and say it verbally. You know good boys answer out loud", you correct with a hand under his chin guiding his head back to your gaze to meet. "...yeah....please, take them off", Jason whispers as he meets your eyes with a vulnerable and slightly pleading look.

"there's my good boy, always doing so well", said with a smile and a kiss before unzipping and pulling down his pants just enough to take his cock out. "Can I please you, baby?" you ask and he replied with a yes almost instantly as his hand falls to your non-dominant hand to hold.

Pulling out his semi-hard cock to hold and lick to get wet as his head falls back with a breathy moan and twitch of his hand. Slowly pumping the base and sucking on his pretty tip just to rile him up just to see his head tilt to the side with his eyes closed, he can be shy tonight you decide, your poor good boy has had a hard time lately.

"how do you want this tonight?", you ask with a lick to the prominent vein, looking up at him to see Jason's blush. ".....slow...but squeeze me harder please", he answers as he does his best to make eye contact with those desperate eyes. "Good boy...my good boy, all for me. Knew you were still being so good, just needed a little reminder how to act"

As you work his hand finds your hair and he tries so hard not to pull but he needs to find something to ground himself on as his thighs tense and his breath hitches. Kissing down his dick to his balls to give a slow lick and suck just to get the prettiest whine out of him as he grips your shoulder.

"yeah, feel good?" you coo and he nods with a moan, as his head tips down to look at you. His eyes going a little hazy as he pants and a little bead of sweat rolls down his forehead. "Feels good", Jason confirms as his hands relaxing before tightens again. Moving his hand down to grip yours as he says, "thank you... thank you, I'm..I'm sorry for snapping.... snapping at you on the mission."

"Don't think about the mission, think about me. Doesn't it feel better to think about how good it feels when I suck your tip, I know how sensitive it is", you say and he nods. "Yeah, yeah.. I love it whe-... when you... fuck...", Jason sighs as his head falls back once again. The backseat not leaving much room for him and you both but he doesn't want you far away anyway.

"come on pretty boy, I know you're getting close. Cum when you need to, cum down my throat. I know you love to do it, I want you to", you encourage when you suck on his tip again and in no time he's arching his back and holding your hand as he whines and tenses up.

When he slumps back down and pants you take the opportunity to lean up and kiss his forehead as you rub your thumb over his cheek. "Good boy, I knew you'd be so good for me.....now, do you want me to drive you home or do you want something to eat first"

"...I want tacos...", he says catching his breath. With a smile and another kiss you agree and help him zip up his pants and climb into the driver's seat as you hand him a water bottle. "Taco's it is", is all that's said before a comfortable silence is felt as you drive to take care of the wants of your pretty boy.

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This is longer than i meant it to be but oh well, hope you enjoy.

#jason todd #red hood #jason todd x you #red hood x you #jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #smut #fanfiction #x reader #x you #jason todd x gn!reader #red hood x gn!reader #gn!reader #x gn reader

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lazysoulwriter · 2 days ago

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Between the Lenses and the Track -Charles Leclerc.

hes so....

The first time you met Charles Leclerc, it wasn’t exactly glamorous. You were adjusting your camera settings in the Ferrari garage, focused on the telemetry screens reflecting off your lens, when a hand suddenly appeared in your frame, waving dramatically. You lowered your camera just in time to see Charles grinning at you.

“Got the shot?” he asked, playful as ever.

“Ruined it, actually,” you deadpanned, tilting your head. “You owe me a better one.”

From that day on, Charles made it his mission to provide you with ‘better’ shots—though most of them consisted of him making faces, posing ridiculously, or sending you exaggerated winks through your lens. It became a running joke between you two, a small part of your routine in the fast-paced world of Formula 1.

But somewhere along the way, your dynamic began to make headlines.

'Charles Leclerc’s Mystery Woman—Just a Photographer or Something More?’

'Flirty Glances in the Paddock—What’s Going On Between Ferrari’s Golden Boy and F1’s Shutter Queen?’

It was ridiculous. You were just friends, but neither of you ever bothered correcting the assumptions. If anything, Charles found it hilarious.

“Should we address the rumors?” you asked once, scrolling through yet another speculative article.

“I think we should fuel them,” he smirked. “Keep them on their toes.”

So, the flirting turned into an unspoken game. Post-race interviews? Charles would sneak in a comment about how he only pushes for pole position because he knows you get the best shots from there. Press conferences? If you were nearby, he’d find a way to mention your name. Once, he even called you his ‘good luck charm’ on live television, winking directly at your camera.

The fans ate it up.

It was harmless, right?

Until it wasn’t.

—

It happened in the backstage area of a Grand Prix weekend. The session had ended, and most of the paddock was clearing out. You were sorting through the hundreds of pictures on your camera when you heard footsteps approaching.

“Busy as always,” Charles teased, leaning against the table beside you.

“Unlike some people, I actually work,” you quipped without looking up.

“Ouch,” he placed a hand over his chest, mock-offended. “And here I was about to invite you to dinner as a thank-you for all the flattering angles.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled. “Flattering? You make my job harder with all those stupid faces.”

“I give you personality,” he defended.

You turned to him, shaking your head with amusement. It was always like this—effortless teasing, easy chemistry. But then his gaze lingered just a little too long, his smirk fading into something softer, something more intent.

Your breath caught.

It was just Charles. Your Charles. The same guy who made dumb jokes and dramatically posed every time he saw your camera pointed his way. But suddenly, standing here in the quiet, the air between you had shifted. It felt heavier. Loaded.

His fingers brushed against yours, barely a touch, but enough to make your skin burn.

“Careful,” you murmured, trying to keep the teasing tone, but your voice came out weaker than intended. “The media’s watching even when they’re not.”

He chuckled, low and knowing. “Let them watch.”

And then he kissed you.

It wasn’t playful, wasn’t a joke or another inside reference to keep up the act. It was slow, deliberate, like he was waiting for you to pull away. But you didn’t.

You let yourself melt into it, into the warmth of his lips, the way his hand came up to cup the side of your face like he’d wanted to do it for longer than he’d ever admit.

When you finally pulled back, your heart was hammering. Charles, however, just grinned.

“So,” he said, voice still low. “Should we fuel the rumors some more?”

You laughed, breathless. “I think we just did.”

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc scenarios #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc x y/n #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 fluff #f1 scenarios #f1 imagines

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jazzy96scorpio · 3 days ago

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The Black Rose and the Star

Chapter 1 Unspoken Words

Description: Landing a job at SNL is huge for you as photographer, but the real surprise comes in when you met ridiculously charming actor [Pedro Pascal]. From secret studio dances to late-night pizza and poetry, your connection is undeniable. Turns out, the best things in life are totally unplanned.😉 It's a slow burn and so fluffy. For now 🫣

I think we all have delulu dreams of Pedro so here is mine 😊

Pairing: You / Pedro Pascal

Word count: 2,319

It was Friday, you were in studio finishing your work, you were happy, you are going to rest finally. When your phone rings. It was your boss. SHIT you thought.

"Ugh, seriously?" you groaned, already picturing your relaxing Friday night going up in smoke. Your boss's voice on the other end of the phone wasn't promising anything good. "What's the fire drill this time?" you ask him.

"Lorne Michaels' office called," he explained "They need a new photographer. Mary Ellen's sick."

Your heart skipped a beat. Mary Ellen Matthews. The legendary SNL photographer. "And…?" you prompted, barely daring to breathe.

"Lorne's seen your work," your boss continued. "He specifically requested you."

Your breath hitched. Whoa.

Lorne Michaels himself had seen your work? That was…insane. "Okay," you managed, trying to sound cool and collected when inside you were freaking out.

"Oh, and there's one tiny detail," your boss added, and you could practically hear the smirk. "You'll be working with Pedro Pascal."

Your brain short-circuited. Pedro Pascal. Pedro Pascal. The name echoed in your head like a beautiful melody. You loved his work. You loved his everything, honestly. The thought of actually meeting him, working with him… it was too much. A giggle threatened to escape, and you bit your lip to keep it in. "Okay, cool," you mumbled, trying to play it cool.

"Be at Studio 8H at NBC on Monday," your boss instructed.

"Will do," you replied, your mind already a million miles away. Studio 8H. SNL. Him. It was all so ridiculously exciting. You hung up, a huge grin spreading across your face. Friday night plans? Forget about it. Monday couldn't get here fast enough. You were going to meet him.

The whole weekend was a wash. Sleep? Forget about it. Your brain was a non-stop party of "OMG I'm meeting him" on repeat. Monday morning finally rolled around, and you practically bounced out of bed, dragging your assistant along for the ride. The studio was buzzing, the kind of organized chaos that comes with live TV. You met the producers, the crew – everyone was super nice and professional. And then… he walked in.

Holy crap.

Your brain just…froze. He was even more amazing in person. Seriously, spectacular. He said hi to everyone, that smile of his making your heart do a weird little flip-flop. Then he vanished into an office with the producers, and you tried to, you know, breathe again.

A few minutes later, he came back out, and one of the producers waved you over.

"Pedro, this is the photographer," he said.

You stuck out your hand, trying so hard not to be a total mess. "Hi, I'm…," you managed, getting your name out without too much stammering. He shook your hand, and whoa, that touch. Electric.

"Nice to meet you," he said, and his voice was just as warm and charming as you'd hoped.

"You two are working together tomorrow," the producer said. "We're shooting the promo pics."

"Alright," you replied, trying to play it cool. Inside, you were screaming. He smiled again, and you were pretty sure your knees almost gave out.

Then he turned to the crew, and they all started talking about the script. The vibe shifted, everyone getting down to business. You watched him chat with everyone, so relaxed and enthusiastic. You couldn't help but wonder what tomorrow would be like.

Shoot day 📸

That day was a trip. You were floating, high on the excitement of him, and trying to play it cool. Today was that day – the photoshoot. You practically leaped out of bed (okay, maybe you snoozed the alarm once or twice), picked out your best outfit (but, like, a cool, casual best), showered, and even put on some makeup (but, you know, the "I woke up like this" kind).

When you arrived at the studio, he was already there. Coco, his groomer and friend, was working on his hair. You introduced yourself to her; she was lovely. Then, you told him you'd wait until he was ready.

Half an hour later, you were setting up your camera, a little shaky despite having worked with big names before. This was different. This was him. And then he walked in.

Oh. My. God.

He was…gorgeous. His hair… you had a sudden, almost overwhelming urge to run your fingers through it. That cute face tucked between my… "Girl, are you alright?" Emma, your assistant, nudged you, her eyes wide. "Yeah, fine," you mumbled, but you knew she'd never seen you like this.

You started shooting, and he was a total pro. So talented, so gorgeous. It was easy, actually. He listened to your directions, and the camera just loved him.

Finally, the shoot was done. You walked over, thanking him.

"I'd love to see the pics," he said.

You showed him your laptop, and as you scrolled through the photos, he leaned in close.

His cologne smelled insane, and you were trying really hard not to just melt on the spot. "These are awesome," he said, grinning. "I love them."

And then, he put his hand on your shoulder. Fuck. You were pretty sure you were melting. "You did an amazing job," he whispered in your ear.

"Well," you managed, your voice a little husky, "it was you. You're incredible. It was pleasure working with you."

And then he left winking at you, leaving your heart pounding like a drum solo. You were officially a mess.

You sat at your table, fingers flying across the keyboard as you edited the photos. He was close by, at the next table, going over the script with the crew. Emma, your ever-attentive assistant, came over. "Need anything?"

"The strongest coffee you can find," you groaned, rubbing your burning eyes.

"And an energy drink. I haven't slept in days."

"That's not healthy," she scolded gently.

"Well, I've gotta die from something," you mumbled, only half-joking.

She giggled. "What kind of coffee?"

"Black as my soul and cold as ice," you replied.

Emma, being the absolute gem she was, turned to Pedro and the crew. "Anyone else need anything?"

"I'll have what she's having," he said, looking over at you and smiling.

You were like Wait, did that just happen? He smiled at me?

Emma brought the coffees, and you thanked her profusely.

"Seriously," she said, giving you a concerned look. "You need to do something about this insomnia. Have you tried sleep pills?"

"Yeah, they don't really work," you sighed.

"What about tea?" she asked.

You gave her a look. "Do I look like tea is going to calm me down?"

She laughed. "Good point."

"I hate tea," you confessed.

"Okay, okay," she said, still chuckling. "Just trying to help."

"I know, and I appreciate that thank you." you said, giving her a grateful smile. She was the best.

About an hour after Pedro was leaving with his friend, he strolled back in. And, to your surprise, he actually said goodbye to you. You felt your cheeks warm up a little. Right then, the producer showed up. "Hey, those photos and videos," he said. "Think you can get them to us by morning? We need them for tomorrow."

"Yep, I can do that," you said. "Just gotta finish up here."

"Awesome! Thanks," he replied, looking relieved.

Hours later, you were finally almost done. The program was rendering, and you were just chilling, waiting for it to finish up so you could send everything off. You were beat, but figured you'd put on some tunes to keep you going. A few minutes later, you were totally in your zone, dancing and belting out the lyrics, not a care in the world. You were alone, after all, and enjoying the moment.

Then, boom, he was just there. Pedro. He was cracking up.

"Those are some serious moves," he said, grinning. "Uh, I just forgot my glasses and script."

You froze, totally embarrassed. "Oh my god," you mumbled, your face getting hot. "I didn't realize anyone was around."

"No worries," he chuckled. "Your secret's safe with me. Unless… you want to give me a lesson?" He gestured playfully. "I've always wanted to learn how to… uh… do that." He attempted a little hip swivel, which came out more like a shimmy, and you couldn't help but laugh.

Your heart did a little flutter-kick. "Oh, please," you said, trying to play it cool. "You'd probably break something."

"Hey, I'm a fast learner," he protested, grinning. He was already shuffling closer, trying to copy your earlier moves, though not quite as gracefully. "Come on, show me what you got."

"Okay, fine," you laughed, showing him a basic step. He was actually into it, and before you knew it, you were both laughing and twirling around the studio to the beat of the song."Wow," you said, impressed. "You've got some serious rhythm. Those hips don't lie." He was a good dancer, you had to admit.

"You know," he said, his voice a little breathy, "for someone who claims to be tired, you've got a lot of energy." He moved even closer, a playful glint in his eyes. "And," he murmured, his voice dropping, "you smell amazing."

Fuck, you thought. I really want this man.

"It's called the power of RUN-DMC," you replied, trying to sound casual even though your insides were doing a wild dance.

He was so close, and at one point, he lightly touched your waist as he spun you, and whoa. "You dance like this always?" he asked, his eyes locking with yours. "You're good."

"No," you replied, a shy smile playing on your lips. "Only when I'm alone."

He grinned, a genuine, warm smile that made your heart melt. He was enjoying this moment with you, you could tell.

It was a perfect, crazy, unexpected moment… until your phone rang, totally killing the vibe.

Your phone wouldn't stop buzzing. "You should probably answer that," he said, nodding towards the insistent ringing.

You sighed and picked up. After a brief, tense exchange, you hung up, but the conversation clearly wasn't over. He left to find his glasses and script, but he came back just as your ex’s voice boomed from your phone.

"I told you, we are done. Don't call me ever again!" you snapped, your voice rising. Pedro’s face creased with worry as he overheard the shouting.

You slammed the phone down on the table, fuming. "Everything okay?" he asked, his brow furrowed. "Who was that?"

"My ex," you said, still trying to control your anger. "Long story..I don't want to mention him."

"Ok," he said, shaking his head. "You shouldn't be treated like that. Seriously. If you need anything, anything at all, I'm here."

"Thank you," you said, the sincerity in your voice palpable. "That means a lot." You glanced at the time. "I should probably get going. I'm finally done here."

You both left the building together. "Thanks again for the dance," you said, a small smile playing on your lips. "I actually had fun." He says "I enjoyed too."

You started to walk away, but he called after you. "Hey, where's your car?"

"It's in the repair shop," you explained.

"Oh," he said. "It's pretty late. I don't want you taking the bus alone. Let me give you a ride."

"Really? You don't have to—"

"No, I insist," he said. "It's the least I can do."

You got in the car, and the ride was comfortable, easy. You chatted about everything, the earlier tension fading away. When you pulled up to your apartment building, you thanked him for the ride.

As you reached for your stuff in the backseat, he was already opening the door for you.

"Allow me," he said, flashing that charming smile.

Such a gentleman, you thought. "Thank you," you said, feeling a little flustered. Then, a slightly crazy thought popped into your head.

"Hey," you blurted out, "are you hungry? I was planning to make a pizza." You were immediately nervous that you were being too forward.

He chuckled, noticing your hesitation. "Actually," he said, "I'm starving. And pizza sounds perfect. I'm a sucker for a good pizza." He grinned. "Especially when someone else is preparing it."

"Great!" you said, relief washing over you. "Come on in." And just like that, you were walking into your apartment with him.

💓

You get into your apartment. "Make yourself at home," you said. "I'll grab you something to drink while I prepare the pizza."

He wandered over to the bookshelves that lined one wall. "Wow, you've got quite a collection," he commented, running a hand along the spines. "You're a reader?"

"Yeah, books and movies are my two favorite things," you replied.

He chuckled, his eyes landing on a shelf crammed with everything from classic literature to steamy romance novels.

"Crime and Punishment right next to… those," he said, a playful smirk on his face. "I like your range."

"Hey, a girl's gotta have options," you said, grinning."Sometimes you need Dostoevsky, sometimes you need..well, you know spicy stuff."

"I get it," he said, still chuckling.

His gaze drifted to the small table by the wall, where a single black rose stood in a glass vase. "Wow," he said, his voice softer now.

"That's… striking. A black rose. I've never seen one before."

"They're my favorite," you said, walking over to the rose. "They're from Türkiye. They're unique. And so beautiful to me." You say "They just feel…special."

"They are special," he agreed, coming to stand beside you. "They suit you."

You looked up at him, surprised. "Really?"

"Yeah," he said, his eyes meeting yours.

"They're beautiful, a little mysterious… just like you."

You felt a warmth spread through you at his words. "Thank you," you whispered.

"That's… really nice of you to say."

"I mean it," he said, his voice low. "Everything about this place…it feels like you.It's… I don’t know… comfortable."

So, you are movie buff too? What are some favorites?"

"Ugh, that's the hardest question ever," you groaned. "I love anything with a good story, but I'm a sucker for good comedy and, you know, movies with twists that make your jaw drop."

You hoped he wouldn't pull out one of the spicier books, but of course, he did. He picked up one with a particularly intriguing title and flipped it open. He read a few lines, his eyebrows shooting up. "Whoa," he said, a grin spreading across his face. "This is…descriptive"

"Put that down," you said, laughing and playfully swatting his arm.

"You're going to corrupt my innocent image."

"Too late," he said, still grinning. "The image has been corrupted."

"Pizza will be ready in about fifteen minutes," you announced, settling on the sofa next to him. He was still holding the book.

"So," he said, flipping through the pages. "This one's yours?" He pointed to a slim volume bound in soft leather.

"Yeah," you said. "It's my… poetry journal. I write all my favorite poems in there."

"Mind if I take a peek?" he asked.

"Sure," you said, a little nervous. It felt weirdly intimate, sharing your favorite poems with him. He flipped through the pages and then stopped. "This one," he said. "Read this one to me."

You took the book, your heart pounding a little. You cleared your throat and read him your favorite poem, the words flowing easily off your tongue, even with him sitting right next to you, listening intently.

"All I want, is to lose myself in your eyes, to forget the world and feel like I belong to something real, something I can't escape, even if I wanted to."

You finished the poem, your voice soft.

"That's… really beautiful," he said, his gaze fixed on you.

"This one's my absolute favorite," you said, turning the page.

"It's called 'I Love You From Afar.'" And then you began to read:

"I love you from afar

without being able to smell your scent

to embrace your nape

to feel your face

I merely love you

from afar, I just love you

not holding your hand

without touching your heart

nor dissolving in your eyes

in spite of today’s three-day love fads

not wildly but like a woman, I love you

I just love you from afar

without wiping off the two tears running down your cheeks

not joining you in your heartiest laughs

nor crooning together with you your most favorite song

from afar, I just love you

without disappointing,

not pouring out anything

without destroying

not making sad,

nor causing a cry, I love you from afar

I just love you like that from afar;

by shredding in my tongue

every word I want to tell you

I love you

I love you on a white piece of paper

while my words fall down, drop by drop…"

When you finished, there was a comfortable silence. He was looking at you, his expression thoughtful. "That's… intense," he said, a small smile playing on his lips. "Really beautiful, though." He paused. "It's, like, really vulnerable, too."

You shrugged a little. "Yeah, well," you said. "Poetry. It's kind of my thing."

You paused, then added, "I think that kind of love, the 'from afar' kind, is the purest, biggest love a human being can feel. But also the one that's hurts the most. It's all about the heart, no expectations, no conditions."

He nodded slowly. "I can see that," he said. "There's a certain… power in that kind of selfless love, isn't there?"

You nodded back. "Yeah." You felt a little exposed, but it wasn't an uncomfortable feeling. It was… nice.

You stood up and checked on the pizza. Perfect. You set the table, and he came over, a smile on his face."Smells amazing," he said.

He took a bite, his eyes widening. "Wow," he said. "This is… seriously good. Best pizza I've had in ages." He polished off a slice.

"You've got some serious culinary skills."

"Thanks," you said, pleased. "It's my secret recipe."

You grabbed a beer from the fridge, handing it to him. "Perfect pairing," he declared. You shook your head, still a little in disbelief.

"I still can't believe I'm sitting here, eating pizza with you," you said, laughing a little. "This has been the best night. Thank you for keeping me company.”

"The pleasure was all mine," he said, his eyes meeting yours. "I really enjoyed tonight, too. The dancing, the poetry… the pizza." He grinned. "It was all perfect."

After you finished eating, he picked up the poetry book again. "Mind if I borrow this?" he asked. "I'd love to read some more of these poems."

"Of course," you said. "Just promise you'll give it back."

"Wouldn't dream of keeping it," he said, carefully tucking the book into his jacket.

As he stood at the door, ready to leave, he turned back to you. "Thank you again for tonight," he said, his voice warm. He stepped closer and, before you knew it, he pulled you into a hug. It was quick, but it was…..AMAZING.

His arms around you, the scent of his cologne… it was the best feeling ever. "Good night," he whispered.

"Good night," you replied, your heart still doing a little happy dance.

He was gone, and you were left standing in your apartment, a dazed smile on your face. It was late, you were exhausted, but you couldn't quite believe what had just happened. Pizza, poetry, dancing, a hug… with him. It felt like a dream.

The next two days were a blur of rehearsals and prep for Saturday's show. Friday was pretaping, and you mostly tried not to just stare at him the whole time. Seriously, he was so captivating to watch. Just pure talent.

After filming wrapped, he came over to you, a thoughtful expression on his face. "I've been reading your poems," he said. "They're… really something. You should publish them. Seriously."

You felt a blush creeping up your neck. "Oh, come on," you said, trying to downplay it. "They're not that good."

"They are," he insisted. "They're honest and raw and… beautiful. You have a real gift." He paused, a playful glint in his eyes. "And," he added, "I was thinking… maybe we could have a pizza and poetry night sometime? Just the two of us?"

"Sure," you said, trying to sound all chill. "Sounds fun. But next time, we're watching a movie. My pick."

"Okay, deal," he said. "I'm down for that." He leaned in a little. "You know," he murmured, "it's been really nice getting to know you. I feel… comfortable around you. It's cool."

"Yeah, thank you" you said, your heart doing a little flutter-kick. "I'm glad to hear that." You were trying so hard to play it cool, but inside you were doing a happy dance. You couldn't wait for that movie night.

🎥🎬

Saturday night was electric. The studio buzzed with energy, and you were right in the thick of it, helping the crew wherever you could, but mostly, let's be honest, you were watching him.

He walked in, all in black, those gorgeous curls framing his face, that "dad bod" he rocked so perfectly… you couldn't take your eyes off him.

"Honey, you are so in love," Emma whispered, nudging you playfully.

"I mean, who wouldn't be?" you replied, only half-joking. "That man is a Zaddy."

Emma laughed. You started humming.

Sex bomb, sex bomb, you're my sex bomb

And, baby, you can turn me on.

And before you knew it, you and Emma were belting out the song, doing a little impromptu dance party.

Then, the stream ended, and he walked up, having clearly heard your little performance. His face was serious. "Who's the sex bomb?" he asked, his voice low.

Oh crap you thought. Emma froze, her eyes wide. You turned around, and there he was.

"I… I'm sorry," you stammered. "I just… couldn't help myself."

He burst out laughing. "I'm just kidding," he said. "I love that song. And, if I may say…" He touched your shoulder lightly. "You're the one."

Your mind went blank. Did he just…?

You managed a "Thank you," your voice a little shaky.

"Are you coming to the after-party?" he asked.

"Nah," you said. "I'm not really a big party person."

"Me neither," he said. "But… would you come with me? Just for a little while?"

Oh my god, is he… asking me out?

"Yes," you managed, trying to keep your voice steady. "I'd love to."

After everything wrapped up, he came over. "Come on," he said, taking your hand. "Let's go."

Walking into the after-party with him was surreal. Everyone was looking at you, and you suddenly felt incredibly self-conscious. He got you a drink, and then, he asked you to dance. It was a slow song, and when he took your hand and pulled you close, his hand resting on your waist, you thought you might actually melt. Oh my god. His body was so close to yours, and you felt your heart pounding in your chest.

What is this man doing to me? You had never felt like this before.

Pedro POV ❤️‍🔥

The music swirled around us, a slow, pulsing beat. She moved with a quiet grace, her body swaying in time with the rhythm. God, I thought, she’s stunning. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but there was something about her… something mysterious, intriguing. I’d been drawn to her from the moment I’d seen her .

And then I’d heard her poetry…raw, honest, beautiful. Even her slightly awkward, goofy humor. And her food. Everything about her was captivating me in a way I didn’t quite understand.

I pulled her a little closer, my hand resting lightly on her waist. Her perfume was intoxicating. Damn, I thought. I wanted her. Badly. But I didn't want to rush things. There was something special about her, something I didn't want to mess up. Her eyes… those intense eyes, and that soft hair… and that silly, unguarded side of her, the way she’d just been dancing and singing without a care in the world. It was captivating.

"I think you're gorgeous," I murmured, my voice low. "I haven't met anyone like you before."

"Thank you," she said, a little breathless. "You're pretty incredible yourself. Seriously, this week has been amazing."

"Mine too," I said, my eyes locking with hers.

When the song ended, a wave of nervousness washed over her. "I should probably get going," she said, suddenly feeling shy.

"I'll drive you," I offered.

She nodded, grateful.

❣️

At your apartment door, he handed you back your poetry book. "Thanks for the dance," he said, a warm smile gracing his lips. "And for a beautiful night."

"It was… the best night ever," you blurted out, then immediately cringed. Smooth.

He hesitated, his breath catching a little. You saw something shift in his expression. Then, he leaned in, cupped your cheek in his hand, and kissed you. It was a sweet, tentative kiss, like he was testing the waters. He pulled back a little, looking almost nervous. "I'm sorry," he stammered. "I didn't mean to—"

Before he could finish, you grabbed him and kissed him again, harder this time, all that pent-up energy finally finding an outlet. You didn't want him to apologize. You wanted this. You pulled him inside, kicked the door shut, and suddenly, it was just the two of you. The air between you was electric.

Thanks for the reading ❣️ Please like, reblog or comment. I appreciate it alot. 💖

Chapter 2😉🫦

@pedrohub @pedgito @littlemisspascal

#pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal snl #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fluff #pedrohub #pedrostories #Spotify #pedro pascal #SoundCloud

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finnsterus · 2 days ago

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Hmmmm… gentle bull hybrid, he grew up with everyone (all the other bull hybrids) being so aggresive all the time, it wasnt an issue because he knew they were all tough enough to handle it and he was too. You though? No no no, your way too fragile, he could never do anything to hurt you! Including being intimate unfortunately. When he holds you he makes sure his grip isnt too tight, scared to fully wrap his giant hands around your chubby body (his hands could still fit around ur waist he is huge). Even if you ask him to be rougher he is so scared of hurting his little mate, you tell him you can handle it and he cringes with hesitation. Eventually he does start to loosen up a little bit, slinging you over his giant shoulder, picking you up by the waist, tossing you onto the bed, laying his big fluffy head on you, now that he knows your not made of glass he finally gives in. Not fully initially, he starts with only making you cum on his tongue and after a couple weeks he adds in a finger and maybe two, its only after a few months of his “conditioning” that he finally decides to give in to trying to go all the way. He will lay you down and hesitate for a moment before rubbing his throbbing head through your soaked cunt, shuddering at the feeling. He rubs your squishy tummy as he ever so slowly starts to push in, not even getting the head all the way in before stopping and asking if your ok, eventually you have to just suddenly move your hips down onto him so you can get it over with. He moans loudly as you fit all of him (that you can physically fit) inside you. The stretch is very apparent to you but definitely worth it. He then starts a terribly slow pace, pausing to check on you every now and then but you can see his wet nose getting redder the more he gets worked up. Eventually your yelling and whining with tears in your eyes for him to just fuck you already, he reluctantly gives in and starts a more steady pace, throwing his head back. “G-god your so tight…” he whines. Your quickly reduced to a moaning and drooling mess after only a couple minutes, the shape and size being just right for your cunt. After a few rounds of this, some soaked bed sheets, and lots of love marks covering your skin you lay panting next to your bull hybrid lover, “told you i could handle it.” He chuckles and soothes your hair, kissing your forehead and pulling you closer. You settle in that night and get the best sleep you have ever had.

#monster fuqqer #monster x reader #hybrids #hybrid #aftercare #monster fucker #bull hybrid #smut #m4f #afab reader #roughfuck #large size #size difference #size k!nk #chubby

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dippindaz · 18 hours ago

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Jealous Eddie x female reader? ❤️

Hi Anon! I hope you enjoy :)

The Hideout is packed tonight. Cigarette smoke lingers in the air, and the bass thrums through your chest as Corroded Coffin finishes their set. The moment Eddie steps offstage, the bar erupts into chatter, music now replaced by the hum of conversation and clinking glasses. You’re perched near the edge of the crowd, waiting for him, but before he makes it over, someone else does.

“Didn’t expect to see someone like you here,” a voice says, smooth and cocky.

You turn to see a guy—tall, a little older, wearing a leather jacket that’s trying too hard. He leans against the bar beside you, a smirk on his face.

“You come to these shows often, or just a fan of the guys?” he asks, eyes lingering on you just a second too long.

You huff a laugh. “Something like that.”

From the stage, Eddie spots you. His fingers tighten around the neck of his beer bottle, rings clicking against the glass. He was already making his way toward you, but now his pace slows as he watches. Observes.

The guy leans in slightly, just enough to make Eddie’s jaw clench. “Well, if you’re looking for better company, I—”

You don’t get to hear the rest of that sentence.

A warm presence presses against your back, a solid arm slipping around your waist and tugging you into him. The scent of faded cologne and cigarette smoke surrounds you as Eddie’s voice rumbles low and close to your ear.

“Better company, huh?” he muses, tone light but edged with something darker. “That’s funny. ’Cause last time I checked, she’s already got the best.

The guy straightens, brows raising as Eddie pulls you closer, fingers pressing into your hip. You glance up, finding Eddie staring the guy down, eyes dark, mouth curled in a smirk that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

The guy laughs under his breath, lifting his hands. “Didn’t realize she was taken.”

“Yeah, well,” Eddie says, voice dropping, “now you do.”

The guy mutters something about backing off and slinks away, but Eddie doesn’t move. His hand stays firm on your waist, his chest still pressed against your back, as if he’s making sure no one else gets the wrong idea.

“You good?” you ask, tilting your head to look at him.

Eddie’s eyes flick from yours to where the guy disappeared, then back again. There’s still something possessive in his expression, something raw that hasn’t quite settled. Instead of answering, he shifts, turning you toward him completely.

Then, in front of everyone—he kisses you.

It’s not sweet or slow. It’s claiming. His hand slides up to cup your jaw, thumb grazing your cheek as he presses his lips to yours, deep and lingering. When he finally pulls back, his voice is rough, low, meant just for you.

“Next time some asshole tries to get cute, remind him you’re mine, yeah?”

Heat rushes up your spine, but you smirk, teasing. “I don’t know, Eddie. I kinda liked watching you get all jealous.”

Eddie exhales a sharp laugh, shaking his head before leaning in again, lips brushing your ear.

“Careful, sweetheart,” he murmurs, voice dripping with something dangerous and fond all at once. “I’ll make sure everyone in this building knows you’re mine.”

And with the way his fingers tighten around your waist, you know he means it.

#stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #stranger things eddie x you #stranger things eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #stranger things eddie x reader #stranger things Eddie Munson x you

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syntheticavenger · 3 days ago

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Bad Decisions - Six

A big thank you to the commenter who reblogged my little story and gave me the inspiration to write this piece again. I appreciate you so much!

We are at the end of this tale.

Please let me know if you like it and as always, if you were keeping up with this story throughout the years, I appreciate you reading and being apart of my little circle.

Word Count: 2.5K

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, angst, language, HEAVY violence mentions, mentions of pregnancy, murder, a lot of death, angst, mentions of breeding kink.

Mob Boss Bucky Barnes x Right Hand Female Reader

Frank Adler x Right Hand Female Reader x Natasha Romanoff

Summary | Being Bucky’s right hand gets complicated when he decides to marry a girl from a questionable family that provides no answers to his decision, only more questions.

“It was you all along.”

The betrayal in his voice is strong, his hands up in the air as you follow behind him, hearing the muffled shouts of Dot who is tied up on the ground. You don’t spare her a second glance, the gun still trained on the back of his head as tears well in your eyes.

“What was I supposed to do, Barnes? Let you burn down your empire?”

He stops in his tracks to answer you.

“Yes.“

Gritting your teeth, you look over at Dot, her mascara caked and runny down her dirty cheeks. She’s been there long enough to know he plans on finishing the job, her hands and feet bound. True to his word, there’s not a scratch on her, just her terrified eyes on you, silently begging you to save her.

All you have for her is contempt, remembering how quickly things had fallen apart since she had arrived.

How much you and others have lost.

“Steve needs peace,” you continue. “You spill any more blood and he’ll have it.”

“Did he promise you that?” Bucky fires back, turning around to face you, both your hands gripping the gun as he takes a step closer.

“Don’t,” you demand.

“Steve said no more blood. Is this a bluff? You’ve killed for much less. And deep down, you know I’ll kill her if you don’t. Steve’s threat may be a promise but at least I’d see it through to the end.”

A tear slides down your cheek when you shake your head, trying to keep your cool. Still calm and collected on the surface, as Bucky tends to me, as if resigned to the fate that is in your hands.

“Why her?”

Your resolve is slipping, forcing yourself to focus on something other than his intense gaze.

”It was an expansion. Business,” Bucky says, looking over at Dot as she whimpers.

“Business,” you repeat. “Look where it got you.”

“That’ll happen when you let your guard down. But you didn’t, did you? You’d known all along, trying to warn me. You built your own expansion, turned yourself into a made woman,” he clarifies, looking back at you. “Frank’s proxy and Steve let it happen. That’s fucking poetic.”

He gives a sarcastic laugh, lowering his hands as he takes another step closer, the barrel pressing into his shirt.

“This is your final test, you know. Steve’s not dumb. You kill me and it’s all over. He gets his peace.”

“You could have left it alone. It’s too much loss.”

Cocking the hammer back, Bucky doesn’t move at your action.

“This could have gone another way,” you begin, another tear slipping down your cheek. “I hated it, every minute you were with her, knowing she was going to betray you and you pushed me aside because you knew best. Volstagg is dead, Pierce is going after Steve and it’s all because of your bad decisions. And it’s because I love you that I have to end this the way it should have ended.”

His eyes widen when the gun is turned toward Dot, the flash of the bullet in near slow motion as he calls out to you, anguish in his tone when another pull of the trigger drowns out the noise.

Steve looks out at the city skyline, his men in the background as he waits for a phone call. Loose ends should have been tied up already, his fingers gripping his glass in mild annoyance before the phone finally rings.

“Promise me you won’t hurt him,” your voice says on the other end, emotionless as Steve stills.

“He’s still alive?”

“Yes.”

“I didn’t think you’d go through with it.”

”I did,” comes your reply. “Natasha will see to handling her body.”

Steve straightens at your words.

“I said no more blood on my doorstep. I’m sure you remember our little conversation, especially since it wasn’t that long ago. You spare him but finish the job,” Steve says, finishing the last of his drink as he rolls his shoulders. “It’s a pity, you know. I liked you. But as I said, I enjoy my peace.”

“I’ll be waiting,” you answer.

“You get no protection. Frank will stand down, Thor will stand down and if Bucky knows what’s good for him, he’ll stay out of this once and for all. I’ll give you a day to say your goodbyes. You can’t hide in this city, doll. I hope you know that.”

“Goodbye Steve.”

Steve smiles, leaning back into his chair as he checks his watch.

“See you soon.”

Sam watches Bucky button down his black jacket, armed to the team before he pulls on black leather gloves.

While it’s quiet inside Bucky’s compound, the streets are loud - practically buzzing with the news that you’re on borrowed time.

“You can’t think this is a good idea,” Sam says after a moment. “It’s a suicide mission. You don’t even know where she is. She’s off the grid.”

“And yet, they’re still talking,” Bucky reminds him, adjusting his jacket. “Pierce is still out there.”

“Then he takes care of her and then Pierce. Or Pierce and then her. Steve’s lost his mind.”

Bucky shrugs. His friend hasn’t lost his mind - he’s protecting his assets, something Bucky can understand. He watched one of his own slip through his fingers, your gun carefully placed in one of his holsters after you’d kissed him goodbye, pushing him away before he could register what was happening.

“Dot is gone,” Sam counters slowly. “Steve gets his peace and quiet.”

“He’s a man of his word. More blood spilled, he’s going to keep his promise.”

Sam shakes his head in denial.

“You’re going to get yourself killed.”

Bucky smiles brightly, smoothing back his hair for a moment. There’s a clarity he hasn’t felt in months, knowing his goal is clear.

“Then you take over,” Bucky says, turning on his heels to leave. “Like we talked about.”

“Bucky!” Sam says behind him. “You’re no better than her!”

The waves crash around your feet, the first stretches of dawn on the horizon, not a single soul in sight.

Yet.

You’d said your goodbyes, aware of how you’ve been tracked through the city. It’s laughable to think that Steve wouldn’t be invested in your every move - depressing to know that the mobster was a man of his word, sending you a countdown when you were down to twelve hours.

There’s something to be said about the way you’ve been treated. Where there was respect for Bucky’s name and influence, you have your own, doors opening for you and knowing looks where there used to be passing glances. You’ve stood your ground even in the face of impending death and you have no regrets.

If you don’t let yourself feel, it’s almost bearable, knowing your time is almost up. Frank, bucking tradition, has offered to get you out of the country, going against his cousin to keep you safe. Natasha, for her efforts, shed more than a few tears when you had said your goodbyes.

You don’t feel an ounce of remorse for pulling the trigger. Natasha had come quickly but Bucky had helped, something you found out later when the headlines mentioned Dot’s untimely death. A simply placed article, wrong time and wrong place meant that to the untrained eye, nothing was suspicious, no one was the wiser - poor Bucky Barnes who suffered so much loss would no doubt lick his wounds in private.

Nevermind that you had it set in your mind when the tears had come, months of anguish and angst, culminating in his literal confessions of wanting to expand.

You’d built her up, put her on a pedestal that she had never belonged on, Bucky behind the scenes dismantling everything he had done once the truth was exposed.

A truth you had brought to light.

A jogger catches the corner of your eye. An upscale neighborhood like this has no shortage of unsuspecting elite, wanting to get their first run of the day before the rest of the world.

You’ve banked on this.

Staked it out.

The silencer on your ghost gun fits smoothly, not another person in sight when you see him get closer, your back to him as he jogs past, mouthing the words to a song he’s listening to.

Within seconds, his body hits the pavement, your gaze on him only for a moment before the sun begins to rise, walking toward him as you put your gun away. You don’t stop when you walk, snapping a photo of the man before continuing on.

Six more hours left.

“You don’t make house calls,” Steve greets his longtime friend, coming down the stairs as he adjusts his cufflinks. “To what due do I owe this occasion?”

It has been too long, this much Bucky knows when he sees Steve. Marriage and impending fatherhood suits him, still armed to the teeth but his eyes show a kindness that makes him want to lower his guard.

“I can’t let you do this, Steve.”

“Are we negotiating?”

“Call it whatever you want. She did it for me.”

Steve finally smiles, placing a hand on Bucky’s shoulder, giving it a squeeze.

“Love does that to a person. Makes them empowered, makes them feel untouchable. Makes them come to my door to beg for forgiveness.”

Bucky laughs at Steve’s response.

“I’m not here to beg for forgiveness. I’m here to tell you that if you go after her, I’ll kill you.”

Steve raises an eyebrow at his threat. He seems slightly entertained at that fact, merely nodding.

“It’s a good strategy, posturing in my own home, Buck.”

“You said it yourself enough blood was spilled.”

Steve tilts his head to the side for a moment.

“And I wonder who started it? Couldn’t have been the loverboy himself? Drawing a line in the sand to make sure that the one who knew him best didn’t get close to the expansion that you were craving. How did that work out for you?”

“You don’t know how much I paid.”

“But I do,” Steve says, circling him slowly. “My own cousin installing her as his proxy, watching her wield her power over his men without a second thought. She took care of his business and for that, she’ll always have my respect. But this? This cat and mouse game over a goddamn family who came from nothing and back to the dust they came… a mild irritation lodged in the back of my mind. Until you wouldn’t let it go.”

Bucky swallows at the raw anger in Steve’s tone, his fingers rolling into tight fists in his black leather gloves.

“She did what she needed to do.”

“I’m sure she did. Got Thor riled up after Volstagg was killed and he threatened me. Not a good look for the Norseman,” Steve says with a sigh. “That’s still lingering somewhere up here in my head. What he’ll do when he’s back to his full strength. It’s bad enough his wife took charge and killed Helena right under his nose. He never saw it coming. More turf wars when all I asked for was peace. He thinks I had something to do with Helena, you know.”

Bucky knows Thor was pleasantly surprised his own wife could be as cold as he could be, knowing the backstory of everything Pierce had put her through.

But this isn’t about Thor.

It’s about you.

“So then the score was settled.”

“I’m a man of my word, Buck. I said no more blood spilled.”

Steve’s vibrates in his pocket, getting his attention as he pulls it out of his pocket to study it. He’s surprised, a look Bucky hasn’t seen in years. He stares at it for several moments until it rings, Steve answering it quickly.

”Thor.”

After a few moments of silence, Steve nods, smiling brightly as he turns to Bucky.

“Within the hour,” Steve says before hanging up.

Pierce hangs over the balcony of his seaside penthouse, blood pouring from his nose and running down his cheek to his eyes.

“Did you think… did you think you would see yourself like this?” Pierce asks with a strained laugh, the waves crashing below. “You call the shots now. Far cry from a… driver.”

“It ends with you and me,” you snarl.

“So we’re dead,” Pierce says with a sardonic laugh, looking at the water. “At least I won’t die alone.”

“I’ll give you a chance to repent,” you pause, Pierce quiet as he attempts to lift his head. You’ve injected him with a muscle relaxer, his body limp as he coughs.

“That’s all you’ll get from me,” he says, saliva dripping from his mouth. “Was it worth it? Knowing the truth and being ignored?”

You think for a moment, fingers gripping his belt.

“Yes.”

With a final pull, gravity takes over, Pierce plunging down onto the sea as you watch. A bullet to the brain was too merciful, watching the waves for a moment before turning back around.

Tears wet your cheeks, your fingers shakily wiping the evidence of your emotions away.

There’s no clean up. Not this time, Pierece’s home in disarray from the scuffle that had ensued. You don’t even check the time, knowing that the hour is drawing close.

You’ve said your goodbyes to Sam and Thor, despite Thor’s wife offering you protection that you had politely turned down.

It’s just you now, alone with your thoughts and the idea of how much blood you’ve spilled as Steve is on the way to make sure you’re finished.

It’s a fitting end, you think, knowing he’ll snuff out one life and welcome another in a few months. That’s the way of life, especially in the business you’ve found yourself in. It shouldn’t bother you but it does, wishing that you’d had more time to talk some sense into Bucky, to not let your emotions get the better of you.

Somewhere your phone vibrates, looking around at the broken frames and vases, finding it on the floor.

Resigning your fate, you answer, wondering how close he is.

“Oakley,” Steve says in a greeting. “I have questions but not at the moment. The more I ask for peace, the less you understand.”

“Loose ends,” you answer.

“Bad decisions get good outcomes. I’m not sorry, Steve.”

“I’ll send my men out later to retrieve Pierce’s body.”

You’re stunned at Steve’s words, silent until you find your voice.

”And me?”

“You have my respect and my protection. Can’t kill someone who did me a favor, can I?”

At your silence, he continues.

“He’s at his wits end, threatening me in my own house. The balls of him,” he chuckles. “But I have to wonder how that will work, seeing as I told him I would dispose of you and told him to wait for my call. Do you think he listened? I guess you’ll find out. Goodnight.’

He hangs up, leaving you speechless as you look around, relief flooding you as you realize you’re not going to die.

The door flies open, Bucky’s gun cocked and ready, calling out to you before you finally see him. A man deranged, his eyes red as he stops in his tracks. Looking around the fractured penthouse, he lowers his gun.

“Tell me you didn’t do it.”

“I did.”

Bucky looks away from you, muttering to himself.

“Did you want it to continue? To be saddled with the guilt? I finished it for you.”

“I didn’t ask you to. Do you realize he’s coming this way?”

“I did him a favor.”

Bucky shakes his head in denial.

“You did Thor a favor. You settled the score with Volstagg.”

“And Steve’s wife. Oakley was hired to infiltrate Steve’s territory and take out his wife. To finish the job he started when Steve’s wife was a teenager. He killed her father.”

Bucky is stunned into silence, seeing you sigh, your shoulders falling in defeat.

“Spared,” you tell him. “Is that why you were trying to warn me that he was coming?”

“To protect you.”

“Since when do I need protecting?”

When you try to walk away, he pulls you into his arms, his gun clattering to the ground as you look up at him.

“I saved your territory,” you remind him, your voice shaky. “Even when I had nothing, I still looked out for you. Put my life on the line for you.”

“That’s the last time you’ll ever do it,” he promises, smoothing back your hair. “We end this now.”

He gets down on one knee, removing the chain from his neck as you realize what he’s doing.

“No,” you answer softly, seeing him place it into your hand. “I can’t accept this.”

“You take it all. Take the fucking empire, I don’t give a shit. But don’t leave me again. I’ll be your right hand, guide you in any decision when you need the help. I won’t lose you again.”

Your fingers close over his chain as his head settles on your stomach.

“Don’t go,” he whispers against you. “I thought I was lost before. I’ll be done for if you go. Stay.”

Your fingers rest on his shoulders, Bucky looking up at you as tears stream down his face. The fierce mobster on his knees because of you.

“Yes,” you answer. “I’ll stay.”

In the middle of the night you wake, the moonlight shining through and luminating the bed you share with Bucky. Whatever dream you had is now forgotten, floating between sleep and awake.

“You have a meeting in the morning,” Bucky says against the top of your head. “The first of many.”

It’s too early to think about that, feeling him rolling over, his hands on either side of you. Your matching chains nearly shine in the moonlight, his lips on yours as you earthly return the kiss, feeling his rough but warm hands part your thighs.

“This empire isn’t going to build itself,” he says with a grin. “We’re behind schedule.”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fic #mafia fic #steve rogers #thor odinson #sam wilson

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come-as-you-are-111 · 3 days ago

Text

Something About Tonight

Warnings: Nothing! Kissing (if u count that)

Chris picks you up at 11:47 PM—just like always. No text, no call. Just the sound of his car pulling up outside your place, headlights cutting through the dark.

And, like always, you get in.

These late-night drives started months ago—just the two of you, nowhere to go, nowhere to be. Just music playing low, the hum of the engine, and the kind of silence that never felt awkward.

But tonight?

Tonight feels different.

Chris barely looks at you when you slide into the passenger seat. His fingers grip the steering wheel a little tighter, his jaw a little sharper in the dim glow of the dashboard lights.

You watch him as he drives, the city lights streaking across his face. “You good?”

He swallows. “Yeah.”

You don’t buy it.

Something’s off.

And then—out of nowhere—Chris pulls over. Just parks the car on the side of some empty road, the neon glow of a gas station sign flickering in the distance.

Your heartbeat kicks up. “What are we doing?”

Chris runs a hand over his face, then exhales—slow, steady, like he’s trying to think.

“There’s something I gotta say,” he mutters, fingers drumming against the steering wheel.

You straighten, pulse thrumming in your ears. “Okay…”

He doesn’t look at you—not yet. Just keeps staring straight ahead, like if he meets your eyes, he won’t be able to say it.

“I don’t—I don’t know how to do this,” he admits, shaking his head. “Like, I’ve been trying to figure out the right way to say it, but every time I see you, it just—” He cuts himself off with a sharp breath.

Your chest tightens. “Chris—”

“I like you.” The words come out rushed, unsteady. “Like, a lot. And I know we’ve been doing this whole ‘friends’ thing, but I can’t—” He finally looks at you, and damn.

His eyes? They’re so intense.

Like he’s been holding this in for too long, like he’s barely holding himself back now.

Your lips part, but no words come out. Because what the hell are you supposed to say when your best friend—when Chris—is looking at you like this?

“…Say something,” he murmurs, voice lower now.

You don’t think. Don’t hesitate.

You just lean in.

And when your lips brush—just barely—Chris moves.

Hand slipping behind your neck, fingers threading through your hair, pulling you closer. The kiss isn’t soft—it’s messy, desperate, like he’s making up for lost time. Like he’s afraid this might not happen again.

A/n: Hi my lil monsters! How we likey? First Chris fic (and I promise there’s a lot more to come) I’m trying to write a full fic for everyone on my master list. Send in any request if u wanna!

Love ya, Twilight

Taglist:

@amoristt @lousypotatoes @infinetlyforgotten @mirahyun

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castellanapologist · 21 hours ago

Text

Teaching Moment.

[This is LONG I apologize. CW: Cheating (not on luke or reader)]

Tomorrow. Y’all’s anniversary was tomorrow. You could feel your heart clench in fear and trepidation. Gods, you almost didn’t want it to happen. You and your boyfriend, Mark, had been together for about a year now and you wanted to make it memorable. So in a spur of the moment decision you had gone out to get waxed, buy lingerie and learn how to have sex. Porn had been a turn off, the over-exaggerated moans had made you cringe and shut your laptop quickly.

Wallowing in self-pity and anxiety hadn’t done you any good and you knew the only person you could trust with this was your best friend and roommate, Luke. Luke Castellan, son of Hermes. The best swordsman in 300 years at camp half-blood. The only one you could depend on no matter what. After you both had left camp, he was the only one you could rely on. Y'all had found a place of your own, moved in together and been inseparable ever since. It had been a bit of a rough start at first, but with Luke’s dazzling smirk and whispers in your ear it all managed to work out. In the back of your mind you knew it wasn’t a great idea to be living with someone you had crushed on for years, but when he asked how could you refuse? Besides, y’all both had partners. Nothing weird could ever happen.

So why were you even going to him with this? Wouldn’t this make it weird? Chewing on your lip nervously, you paced your room like a caged animal. Weighing the options in your mind, it came clear that you only really had one option. Go to Luke and have him teach you or risk your experienced boyfriend laughing in your face. Luckily -or unluckily- Luke had just come home and did his usual routine of poking his head in your room to bother you. His brow raised seeing you pace wildly.

“You good?” He asked, not unkindly. Opening the door all the way, he leaned against the doorframe. Even in your distress you could appreciate his physique. Broad shoulders, strong arms wrapped with prominent veins, even his hands had you weak in the knees. Sighing, you slow your pacing down to face him.

“I…I had a question.” You meekly respond, wringing your hands nervously. His eyes dropped to them and stepped closer to grab them. He ran his thumbs soothingly over your knuckles.

“Go ahead baby, what's wrong?” He asked, voice dropping to a murmur. The pet name ran smoothly off his tongue and it's not like the two of you didn't say sweet words to each other, but you shivered.

“When…when you lost your virginity” Your voice cracks slightly before you clear your throat. “Was it scary?”

Luke’s brows shoot up. There’s a small silence but it's long enough to make you want to crawl into a hole and die. You try to pull away but he quickly pulls you into a hug, running a large hand comfortingly up and down your back.

“Hey hey it's okay, it's not a weird question.” He soothes. “Just caught me off guard is all. It was a little nerve-wracking but nothing crazy. Why do you ask?”

Your silence seems to give him the answer and his brows shoot up again. “You thinking of giving that boyfriend of yours your virginity?” He asks, voice unimpressed. Luke has never seemingly liked Mark, saying dating a mortal was a dumb decision. When you had pointed out his girlfriend was a mortal, he had scoffed and said it was different. You roll your eyes, pulling back slightly to look up at him.

“Well we’ve been dating for a year, I feel like I can trust him.” You say. Luke’s lips purse but he nods slowly.

“Yet you’re pacing like crazy in here” He teases. You deflate slightly, leaving him to scramble to make up for it. “Hey hey, if you’re ready it's okay. It’ll be fine.” He soothes, rubbing your back again.

“I’m scared Luke.” You confess. “What if I mess up? And he laughs at me?”

“I doubt he will. Besides, if he does, I’ll kill him” Luke promises. It doesn’t sound like he’s joking but you roll your eyes like he is.

“You don’t get it,” You say as you pull back a bit more. “I want him to be impressed with me. So I don’t look stupid and unprepared.”

“There’s no way to be prepared unless you do it.” Luke points out, his hands falling to your hips. “Unless you try and watch a shit-load of porn, but even then its fake and won't teach you anything.”

“You don’t think I thought of that?” You groan. “Shit was awful. Barely got 5 minutes in.”

Luke throws his head back in a laugh. “You watched porn?” He teases. “Cmon, tell me what kind.”

“I’m not telling you.” You say firmly, pushing against his chest. He laughs again, gripping tighter so you couldn’t escape. Pulling you closer, he leans in close to whisper in your ear.

“You know you can trust me baby, you’ve got nothing to be ashamed of.”

You squirm at his breath on your ear but sigh, knowing neither of you can particularly keep stuff from the other. “Just...like regular porn I don’t know.” You sigh, avoiding his gaze.

“Show me.”

Your eyes snap to his, clearly caught off guard. “What?!” You nearly shriek. Luke huffs a laugh.

“I said show me. Wanna see what my little roomate was up to while I was away.” His voice is teasing as he smirks down at you. Chewing on your lip you weigh your options. You decide ‘what the hell, I was gonna ask for help anyway’ and nod. Luke allows you to detangle yourself from his hold and crawl onto your bed, following shortly behind you. He sits behind you, chest to your back as you open your laptop. You immediately cringe as loud moans fill the bedroom. Luke doesn’t bother to stifle a laugh.

“Teaching my virgin best friend how to fuck?” Luke reads aloud, laughing. You feel your cheeks burn in shame as you try and shrink down. Luke pulls you back upright. “Awww don’t be embarrassed baby. Rewind it, let's watch.”

“Rewind?” You question. Luke nods, pulling you more flush against him.

“Yeah, I’ll point out what to do and not do. Think of it as me ‘teaching my virgin best friend how to fuck’” He laughs. You chew your lip again, making it raw at this point. Luke brings his hand up to your face and uses his thumb to untuck your lip from your teeth. “Hey enough of that, you know I'm just teasin’. We don’t have to-”

“I want to.” You rush out before he can continue. Luke presses a kiss to your temple, a smirk gracing his handsome face.

“Alright baby, rewind.” He orders softly, moving his hands down to grip your hips. You squirm but obey. The video restarts and shows the guy and girl sitting on the couch, the girl looking nervous. You shift to lay more comfortably against Luke as the girl asks the guy to teach her. You’re hyper aware of Luke’s hands on your hips rubbing small circles obviously trying to soothe you. All too soon, the actors are making out furiously and groping each other.

“Pause it.” Luke commands. You’re all too happy to obey, hitting the spacebar. You turn your head to face him, only to realize he’s a lot closer than you thought. “You see how they’re making out? All messy and shit right off the bat? You wanna start slow.” He murmurs. You swallow and nod. There’s a beat of silence between y'all before you speak up.

“Can…can you show me?” You whisper, barely able to choke the words out. The room feels like it’s raised a few degrees as soon as the words exit your mouth. Luke’s eyes are dark as he turns you a bit further to face him.

“You sure?” He murmurs, fingers softly gripping your jaw. You nod, swallowing and turning to face him. Slowly, ever so slowly, he leans in, giving you plenty of time to pull away. You don’t. His lips are soft against yours, hesitant. When he feels you relax against him, he presses firmer. Your mouths move in sync, like you’ve been kissing all your life. His finger grip a bit tighter as his tongue swipes along your bottom lip. With no hesitation, you allow him in.

Groaning, his tongue invades your mouth. You whine as you taste him, hand coming up to tug at his hair. Luke moves slow, just like he said you should. As soon as he’s done, he allows you into his mouth. Gods he tastes so good. You feel like you can't get enough, tugging harder on his curls as you massage his tongue with your own. When you can’t breathe any longer, you pull away with a gasp. Fuck. Luke’s eyes are half-lidded, lips swollen from the kiss. You both pant while staring at each other.

“Just like that.” He breathes. You nod slowly, your heart pounding so loud you swear he can hear it. Your boyfriend never kisses you like that, he’s all tongue and teeth immediately like the video. Luke presses another kiss to your forehead and turns you back to face the screen. Pressing play, the video starts again. The actors continue to make out furiously, the guy yanking off the girls shirt and bra. Your breath catches in your throat and Luke pauses it again. Your mind races with a million thoughts, eyes locked on the girls bare tits and the guys hands groping them.

“Moving fast seems to be a trend for them.” Luke rumbles, his left hand still rubbing a circle on your hip. You nod absentmindedly. His fingers hover over the spacebar, like he’s thinking. You turn your head again, startling when you see him already staring at you. His eyes are dark with something primal, and you swallow. You glance at the girl's bare tits then back to him. Kissing was one thing…him seeing your tits was another. Luke and you had kissed a couple times at camp, just at parties when everyone was tipsy and wanted to play stupid drinking games. Maybe a touch or two over the clothes but nothing crazy.

“We don’t have to do anything.” Luke assures you, his hand pressing firmer against your hip. “I’ll just talk about it okay?” You take a breath and nod. “He needs to go slow, kiss your neck a little then he can take off the shirt.”

You shiver slightly thinking about Luke kissing your neck. Subconsciously, you bare yours a bit for him. His other hand slowly comes up from the spacebar to ghost along your throat. Your breath hitches but let him continue. His fingers are cold and soothing to the touch.

“You sensitive here?” Luke teases, pressing a bit firmer. You can barely nod. “Then he’ll have to spend extra time here. You wanna make sure he makes you feel good. Don’t let him rush things.” He says firmly, his fingers tracing your pulse point lightly. You nod. “Good girl.”

Fuck you almost moan at that. He doesn’t stop his teasing of your neck, seemingly fixated on your small shivers. Maybe this couldn’t hurt…it’s just a trial run right? Luke knew what he was doing, it wasn’t cheating if it's for practice…

“Luke…” You whisper, causing his fingers to still.

“Yeah?” He whispers back. You turn your head to face him again.

“Can you do what's supposed to happen?”

Lukes face breaks into a soft smirk but he nods regardless. He turns you again to face him, getting you fully in his lap. He brings the laptop to the side, letting you see the screen. You scoot in closer on his lap as his fingers wrap around the back of your neck, dipping his head. You gasp as his lips brush your skin, hands flying up to grasp his shoulders. Slowly, Luke kisses along the column of your throat, his lips lingering. You tilt your head back so he has more skin to kiss, emboldening him. His kisses become sloppy, tongue peeking out to lick. Fuck it felt so good. You can’t hold back the moans that tumble out your mouth, nails digging into his shoulders.

“Sound so good baby, gotta be loud so I know you like it okay?” Luke groans into your neck. You nod, eyes rolling back as he bites down. Fuck fuck fuck you felt yourself getting wetter than you ever had before. Luke was like a God in bed, and if it didn’t risk him getting smited telling him that, you would have. You squirm in his lap as his tongue traces patterns, half desperate for more and half desperate to get away. Luke's hands hold you down and only then do you notice. Fuck. Luke’s hard. You moan at the revelation, mind whirring with the implications. Was it because of you? Or the porn?

“Fuck Luke” You whine, hips rolling instinctively down. Luke’s teeth sink into your neck again, moaning as he thrusts up. You both grind for a few minutes, unable to stop yourselves. Eventually Luke pulls himself away from your neck and holds your hips down so he won’t be distracted.

“Your shirt” He tugs. “Lemme take it off.” You let him, exposing your bra. His face turns reverent, hands coming up to cup your breasts. Luke leans down to kiss the exposed skin before expertly unclipping it. You almost want to call him a slut, but when his lips wrap around your nipple all thoughts fly out of your head. You feel dizzy with pleasure as he sucks, nails scratching at his scalp. Luke hums around your tits, squeezing your hips in warning when you try to rock down.

“Stay still.” He commands, making you stop. Fuck you were dripping. He pants as he removes his own shirt, letting you get your fill of his sculpted torso. He walked around the apartment shirtless pretty frequently so it wasn’t new, but you still loved it all the same. Your hands roam his chest and arms, squeezing the muscles appreciatively. His stupid girlfriend was so lucky she got to touch this as often as she did. Jealousy simmers in your gut as you recall all the mornings you saw deep red scratches on his back. Before you can think twice, you lean forward and bite his neck hard enough to leave a mark. Your tongue soothes in apology before sucking. Luke tugs you back by your hair.

“Tryna mark me baby?” He teases, but there’s no heat behind his words. Tilting your head back, he reattacks your neck and leaves a mark of his own. He pulls back proudly admiring his handiwork. “Two can play at that game.”

You kiss him desperately again, bringing his hands to cup your chest again. He obeys, running his thumbs over your nipples before delivering a light pinch that makes you moan. Your boyfriend had never made you feel this good before and you couldn’t get enough of Luke. The kiss turns messy as he sucks on your tongue. Hands tug at the nape of his curls, whining into his mouth. After what feels like ages, Luke pulls away. You both pant before he turns your head to look back at the screen. Unpausing, you watch as the actors continue to (badly) moan and writhe under each others touch. The guy shoves down his pants, and the girl down to her knees. Your breath catches again as Luke pauses it.

“Won’t make you do that.” He says gruffly. “He probably won’t eat her out, but make sure your little boyfriend does.” Luke rolls his eyes. “Though a real man wouldn’t need to be asked.”

Jealousy surges in your gut at the thought of him going down on his girlfriend. Mark never went down on you. “You go down on Hailey?”

Luke looks at you like you’ve grown a second head. “Of course I do. Does Mark not?” Your silence answers for you. Luke scoffs. “Of course he doesn’t. Asshole doesn’t know how to treat a woman.”

“Luke, it's fine!” You groan. “It doesn’t matter-”

“Have you blown him?”

You stay silent. Luke scoffs for the umpteenth time. “Unfuckingbelievable.”

“Luke…”

Luke manhandles you, shifting so you lay flat against your bed and he’s on top and in between your legs. His scowl makes your reprimand die in your throat. “You’re tellin me you’ve never been eaten out?”

You shake your head and he groans. Like it physically pains him that you’ve never received head. He rises to his knees, looking down on you with such pity you feel like it’s actually a crime your boyfriend doesn’t eat you out. Sure, you’ve asked for it before, you’re a curious girl. Mark had just always made one excuse or another. Luke’s hand comes to rest on your knee which brackets his waist. He looks contemplative as he rubs it, lost in thought. Your hole clenches thinking of his tongue running along your folds.

“Would” Your voice cracks. “Would you?”

Luke’s eyes snap to yours, a primal heat in them. “Would I what?” He asks, voice low and dangerous. “Use your words.”

“Would you eat me out?” You whisper. The tension in the room is so palpable you swear you can taste it. Luke’s eyes seemingly darken further somehow. His hand slides from your knee to your thigh, causing your hips to twitch. A ghost of a smirk graces his face before turning serious again.

“You want me to?”

Frustration simmers in your veins. “Would I ask if I didn’t?”

Luke actually laughs at that, his head ducking down to kiss you again. The kiss is slow and deep, a promise lingering in it. “Alright baby just making sure. Lift your hips for me.”

You obey and he slowly slides your shorts down. You hear him suck in a breath, causing your face to flush. Luke looks hungry, almost obsessive as he stares at your cunt. Your hole clenches under his gaze, dripping more arousal. He moans.

“You’re soaked.” He says, spreading your thighs more. You whine as he exposes you, embarrassment coloring your face. Luke shushes you and leans closer, breath wafting over your spasming pussy. “Such a pretty pussy”

“Luke!” You whimper. “Stop staring.”

He shushes you again, ignoring your pleas. He runs a finger down your slit, marvelling how you soak his hand from that alone. Moans tumble from your mouth, squirming under him. Luke holds you down and presses a kiss to your throbbing clit.

“Fuck! Luke!”

He hooks his arms under your thighs as he presses more kisses on your clit, flattening his tongue to lick up your arousal. Moaning into your cunt, he moves down to press kisses to your fluttering hole. His tongue fucks into you, lapping up your leaking juices as his fingers come up to press into you as he moves back to the clit. You tug at his curls, back arching as you moan his name loudly. Fuck it felt too good. You felt like your brain was melting as his mouth moved expertly against you.

Waves of pleasure flooded you with every lick and the coil in your stomach tightened as every second passed. Humping his face, you chased the pressure in your gut that was building embarrassingly quickly, desperate to finish. You try to warn him you really do, but he moans into your cunt like you're the best meal he’s ever had and you cum. Your back arches obscenely as you gush over his handsome face. Luke doesn’t quit, licking up your cum like his life depends on it. You weakly push him away.

“Fuck. You were so good baby. Tasted so good.” He moans as he pushes up to kiss you. Moaning as you taste yourself, you pull him closer. You needed him in you. More than you had needed anything in your entire life. It seems he feels the same way, grinding his clothed dick against your sensitive pussy.

“Want you in me Luke.” You beg, tugging at his hair. He nods quickly, moaning into your kiss as he shoves down his sweats. They join the growing pile of clothes on the floor and you watch as Luke strokes himself. Fuck he’s so big. Could he even fit inside? He notices your stare and smirks, moving back between your thighs.

“You sure you want this baby?” He asks softly, thighs trembling as he resists pressing fully against you. You cup his face, pulling him into a gentle kiss.

“I’m sure Luke. I want it to be you.”

Luke kisses you again, pressing his tip against your hole. You both hiss, the pressure causing your hole to tremble. Slowly, ever so slowly, he pushes in. You moan loudly as his tip finally pops in and you clench around him. Luke swears, eyes rolling back as he holds himself back from thrusting forward.

“Fuck. So fucking tight.” He hisses. “Never felt pussy this good.”

Luke inches forward, peppering kisses all over your face as your pussy greedily pulls him in. You whine, feeling your cunt stretch to accommodate him, causing him to shush you and kiss you again. Clawing at his back so desperately it’ll surely leave deeper scratches than his girlfriend does, your pussy gushes as he finally pushes all the way inside. Luke stays still, gently grinding his pelvis against your clit which causes you to sob. He coos and kisses you again. Your eyes are rolled back as you chant his name, his fingers rubbing your clit to help you relax.

“So fucking good for me baby, best pussy I’ve ever had. ‘S like you were made for me, i love you so much”

You sniffle, kissing him back. “I love you too Luke. You can move now.”

Luke slowly pulls out before thrusting back in, causing your back to arch. His lip was tucked between his teeth as he leans back to stare where y’all are connected. Your hole stretched around his cock, lewdly squelching as his thrusts speed up. It’s too much, it felt too good not to rock your hips down to meet his thrusts. You babble nonsense as he fucks you, brain turned to mush and moaning like a whore. Luke pushes your legs against your chest aiming even deeper and you convulse on his cock. Fuck fuck fuck you were gonna cum again. Pulling him down into a messy kiss, you try to warn him.

“Gonna cum for me again baby? So fucking easy for me, this pussy belongs to me doesn’t it? Fuck, knew it did. Stupid fucking boyfriend couldn’t handle this.” He pants, fucking into you harder. You nod stupidly, too cock-drunk to deny him. He presses down, feeling his cock from the outside.

“Only yours Luke fuck. Feel so good in me” You slur. Luke moans before kissing you again.

“Best. Fucking. Pussy.” He accentuates every word with a thrust. “Fucking love you, only want you. I’m all yours”

Screaming his name, your vision goes white as you cum. Your pussy spasms, milking his cock as you convulse. He only speeds up, working you through your orgasm as he follows shortly behind. As you both come down from your highs, he lazily kisses you. He doesn’t pull out, carefully shuffling the two of you to lay comfortably.

“Been dreaming of doing that for years” He murmurs, kissing you again. You hum in agreement, tiredly tangling your tongue with his.

“Guess I’m glad you’re such a good teacher” You tease, eyes fluttering shut. Luke huffs a laugh.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got a few more lessons for you.”

#luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #charlie bushnell x reader #luke castellan smut

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queen-of-the-avengers · 2 days ago

Text

Candy Cane Lane

Pairing: Bartender!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~3.3k

Warnings: fluff

Summary: It’s Christmas time and that means buying gifts and attending holiday parties with your friends. You and Scott reach an impasse in your relationship, one that you might not be able to get over. Who is right there next to you when it inevitably crumbles? Bucky. He’s always going to be there.

One in a Million Series

Square Filled: free space (2023) for @buckybarnesbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

Ah, Christmas. You love the holiday season. Every year back home, you and your parents would decorate the house as much as you could and even put fake snow inside to make it feel like a Winter Wonderland. You’re flying back to your family, Bucky is flying home to New York to be with his sister, Steve is staying inside the loft, and Sam is sailing out to his friends who are living at sea for the next couple of months.

To celebrate the year and to the employees who have done such great work, Disney is throwing a huge office party right before the holidays, and you’re all invited. Steve got the invite a month ago, and you’ve been preparing for it since. There’s just last-minute shopping you need to do because, for the life of you, you don’t know what to get Scott for Christmas.

You two have been dating for just over a month so it’s nothing too serious but you can tell Scott has strong feelings for you. You’re just not sure about your feelings for him. He’s coming off a little too strong for your tastes, but maybe this is what you need to move on from Bucky. He’s been plaguing your dreams as of late. It’s like no matter what you do, who you kiss, or what you tell yourself, he’s the main character in your mind.

At this point, he should be paying rent from how much he’s living inside your head.

The party is this weekend so you only have two days to go shopping for a gift for Scott. He’s going to be at the party and you figured you could exchange gifts while you’re there. What do you get someone you’ve been seeing for a month that you kind of like but are hung up on another man?

You walk out of your room and see all three roommates inside the kitchen munching on the pie you made.

“Hey, that was supposed to be for tonight,” you say. All three of them look up like they’re kids caught with their hands in the cookie jar. “Whatever. Look, I need help. Can you guys come with me to go last-minute shopping? Please?” Bucky looks like he’d rather do anything else, Sam looks at the ceiling to avoid your eyes, and Steve takes another slow bite of the pie. “I’ll buy you food.”

A chorus of “Yeah, alright” goes around, and you grin in triumph. The mall is packed with people rushing to get presents and families with kids shouting and complaining that they’ve been out too long. Steve and Sam break off from the group to find the best food places while you and Bucky browse the many stores.

“So, I thought you got all of your shopping done.”

“I did. I don’t have a gift for Scott.”

“You��re getting him a present? You’ve only been dating a month.”

You look at him with big eyes. “Should I not get him one?

Bucky loves how big your heart is. “No, no, I think it’s nice you’re getting him something. What did you have in mind?”

“I don’t know. I think jewelry is out of the question. I think a watch is too big. I can get him something practical. Maybe a coffee maker? I always go overboard with presents, especially when I don’t know the person that well. It’s either too big or not big enough. I need your help.”

“Come on, I know you, Y/N. You already had a present in mind. What was it?”

“Fine,” you sigh. You take out a card from your purse. “It was a certificate for piping hot sex, but now I’m not so sure.”

Bucky takes the card from you and grins as he reads it. “I’m keeping this. This is great.”

“No, you’re not!” You try to grab it but he holds it just out of reach. He moves the card up higher when you start to jump for it, but he’s too damn tall. You fall against Bucky in laughter, and he holds you by your waist to keep you steady. You look into his eyes with a sultry gaze, and his arm lowers just slightly enough for you to grab the card. “Ha!”

“Alright, alright,” Bucky smirks.

You two walk into a store that sells all kinds of things like clothing, toys, shoes, jewelry, etc.

“Okay, if you were my boyfriend, what would you want?” you ask before you can stop yourself.

Bucky pauses in thought. He knows what he would want. Instead, he’s thinking about how you said my boyfriend and not a boyfriend. Do you even like Scott as much as you say you do? He often wonders what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours.

“Well, I’d want another motorcycle helmet. Mine is getting pretty worn down, and the lenses are getting scratched.”

You walk around the store as you talk, and you notice something in one of the aisles. You grab the box of magnets and hold them up to him with a smile. “How about I get these so you can decorate your arm?”

Bucky looks away with a smile. Another twenty minutes inside the store, and you find the perfect gift for Scott. A plush realistic heart that throbs as it pumps blood, and it even makes a squishy noise that represents the blood flowing through it. It’s perfect for a science teacher who specializes in anatomy. By the time you two are done, Steve and Sam already have a food place picked out.

“So, did you find something?” Sam asks.

“Yeah, with Bucky’s help.”

“Good luck to Scott. Bucky is the worst gift giver, ever.”

“I don’t know. He’s not all bad,” you grin at Bucky.

After a nice lunch, you start the drive back to the apartment. It’s a straight shot but you decide to take the scenic route through the neighborhood that shows off all of their lights. It’s called Candy Cane Lane. All of the houses already have started decorating and will be done by tonight.

“Why are we here, Y/N?” Bucky asks.

“I wanted to show you this place. It’s a whole festival of lights that they do every year. It’s beautiful, and I really want to see this before we all go to the airport.”

“I don’t think I can come to this. It’s imperative that don’t miss this flight. My sister is going to kill me if I do.”

“Oh, okay,” you say.

Yes, you’re sad that you might not be able to show this to Bucky but you’re not going to let him miss his flight.

“Is Natasha going?” Steve asks.

“Yes,” you smirk. “She’ll be right over as soon as she finishes a showing on a house. Did you get something for her?”

“Maybe,” Steve mumbles.

You get back home and text Scott to come over. You’d rather give him his gift now than wait until the party. If he hates it, at least only you will know. Bucky watches you walk off with your eyes on your phone, and he sighs to himself. He breaks apart from the group and walks into his room. The only person to who he hasn’t given a gift yet is you. He’s not sure if he’s ever going to give it to you, not when you’re with Scott.

Bucky opens the small box to reveal a necklace that has your birthstone on it. It’s a stone that’s wrapped in a vine-like fashion that then turns into the chain. He doesn’t know why he got this knowing you two aren’t dating. All he knows is that he took one look at it and knew it belonged on your neck.

An hour goes by before Scott comes over. You immediately take him to your room so that you can have some privacy.

“I hope this isn’t too forward but I got you something for Christmas.”

“I got you something, too,” he smiles.

He pulls out an envelope and you pull out the small gift bag the heart is in. You seem surprised at the envelope but take it nonetheless. Scott waits patiently for you to open your gift first, so you open the envelope in curiosity. They’re tickets. Once your brain comprehends what’s in your hands, you feel your body stiffen.

“Wow. Music festival tickets in Copenhagen. I don’t know what to say. Thank you,” you stutter. “I feel like an asshole for what I got you now.” Scott opens his present and gasps when he sees the plush heart. “I know, it’s nothing like this, but--”

“I love it,” he smiles. “It’s funny and quirky and sweet, just like you. That’s why I love it.” He doesn’t miss a beat when he says, “I love you.”

All the blood drains from your face. Scott pulls you into a hug and rubs your back, but you can barely move. Uncomfortable silence fills the room. Say something! Scott is waiting for you to say something!

“Thank you,” you say awkwardly and pat his back.

What the fuck. Out of all the things you could have said, you just had to say ‘thank you’? If Scott never knew how you felt, he does now. You like him, kind of, but you don’t love him. He left right after you exchanged gifts and will meet you at the party later. Bucky immediately knew something was wrong when you didn’t say a single word on the ride to the party. He wants to ask you about it but he knows it’s best to wait for you to come to him.

Steve and Natasha are already in the lobby when you arrive. He left to give her her present and they rode here together.r They might be dating, you’re not sure. Natasha would have told you otherwise but she hasn’t. They’re cute together and you know Steve won’t break her heart like all the other guys before, and Natasha is definitely going to make Steve work for it.

Natasha tucks her hair behind her ear, giving you a great view of the earrings you got her. “You’re wearing my present!” You pull her in for a hug and immediately get a noseful of a strong perfume. “Oh, my God, what is that smell?”

“The perfume Steve got me.”

“Oh, how nice of him,” you nod.

Scott shows up minutes later, but the air is awkward and thick. Bucky looks between you two but can’t quite put his finger on what might have happened. Did he say something? Did you? Did he do something? He’ll beat him the fuck up if he hurt you.

Once everyone gets here, you head upstairs to where the party is. There are already a lot of people here, so it’s easy to distract yourself from your situation with Scott.

“Hey, I’ll be right back. I’m going to get some drinks for us.”

“Okay,” he nods.

You’re already walking away before he can get the word out. Instead of getting drinks, you immediately hide in the corner where you can see everything. You’ll be able to see if Scott is coming or not. ‘Thank you’ is one of the worst responses when someone says they love you. You wanted to say it back but you can’t say something you don’t feel.

“Hiding?” You look up and notice Bucky standing right next to you. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell.”

“Oh, hey, Buck.”

“Why are you hiding? What happened between you and Scott?”

“He told me he loved me, but I can’t say it back so I said ‘thank you’. I don’t know what to do now,” you sigh. “I have always been the one to love more. I love so much but I can’t seem to get there with him. It’s not even about love at this point. I want to like him but I just… don’t. Not as much as I should, anyway.”

“If you don’t have feelings for him, you have to tell him?”

“This is the worst time of year to break up with someone. First, there’s Christmas, then New Year’s, then Valentine’s Day, and then President’s Day.”

“It’s hard to argue with that logic,” he nods. “Still, you’ll hurt him more if you don’t.”

“Okay, I will. Thanks, Bucky.”

You leave his side in search of Scott when you see Natasha go into the ladies’ room. You turn and follow her inside the bathroom. She’s at the sink wiping some wet paper towels onto her skin.

“What are you doing?”

“Trying to wipe off this perfume stench. Steve is sweet but this stinks.”

“He really likes you.”

“I know.”

“Do you like him?”

“Maybe. I don’t know. I could.”

“He’s a good guy, Nat. I don’t want to see him hurt.”

“I know.” You two slide down the wall and sit on the tile away from the door. “So, do you want to tell me what’s going on with you and Scott?” You look at her and she rolls her eyes. “Come on, you can barely look at him.”

“He told me he loves me but I couldn’t say it back. Me. I don’t know. Maybe I should just make it work. I can learn to love him, right? He’s sweet.”

“Being sweet isn’t enough to keep someone around. Love is. If you don’t love him, he should know so he can find someone who does.”

“It’s only been a month, Nat. He shouldn’t be in love already.”

“Some people love harder than others.”

“Yeah. I’ll break up with him after the holidays. I’m not a monster.” You get up and pull the door open. “You still stink, by the way.”

You smirk when you hear her curse. You’re not sure what time it is since your phone died, but the party is still crowded with people so it can’t be that late. You pass by the balcony and notice Bucky and Scott outside hugging. Bucky is not a hugger. You push the door open and pop your head out.

“What’s going on here? Why are you guys hugging?”

They pull away from each other and Scott looks like someone punched his puppy right in front of him, and Bucky looks like he’s in pain… emotional pain.

“We’re just… talking,” Scott says.

“Talking?” You look at Bucky. “You hate talking.”

“Yeah, we’re talking about… about sports.”

There is a pause between all three of you, and you look at Bucky. He takes one look at those big beautiful eyes and folds immediately. He has to come clean.

“That’s a lie,” Bucky sighs. “I told him you didn’t love him.”

“What?” you gasp. “Bucky!”

“It’s okay, Y/N,” Scott tries to say.

“No, it’s not okay. You had no business telling him that!” you yell. “What the hell!”

“I know. I’m sorry. I’m just gonna…” Bucky walks to the balcony door and tries to open it but it won’t budge. “No, come on. This is my nightmare. Come on!”

“We should talk,” Scott sighs.

“Yeah.”

You and Scott sit down on the bench while Bucky still tries to get inside the office. He doesn’t want to break the glass so he continually knocks on it in hopes someone will hear it.

“Bucky shouldn’t have told you that but it’s true. I… don’t love you.”

“Okay,” Scott nods slowly. “So, what now?”

“Look, I like you. I do, but I guess I’m just a bit overwhelmed. It’s only been a month, Scott.”

“I understand. I know about your relationship with Jack, and I respect those boundaries, but I thought we were feeling the same thing for each other.”

“We were… we are, but I think you’re feeling them more than me.” Bucky knocks against the glass noisily, and you glare at him. “Sit down and shut up, Bucky. This is your fault.” He frowns but does what he’s told. “Look, Scott, I got hurt and I’m trying really hard not to get hurt again.”

The tension is cut with the ringing of Bucky’s phone. You and Scott look at Bucky who has a red face of embarrassment. He takes out his phone and sees his sister, Rebecca, calling him.

“I’m sorry. Just one second.” Bucky answers the call. “Hey, Bec. … Yeah, I’ll be there … No, don’t worry. … Seriously, I’ll be there. I still have time. I gotta go. … Okay, bye.” He looks at you. “Continue.”

“We can keep going but I think we should take it slow.”

“I don’t know if I can.”

“Oh, come on,” Bucky groans. “How hard is it to take it slow?”

“Bucky,” you growl.

“Yeah, I’ll shut up.”

“I don’t want to slow down… Not with you. It’s not what I want. If you need to, I don’t think I can do this with you.”

“So, I guess this is it, right?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“Okay,” you nod.

Suddenly, the balcony door opens and Sam pops his head outside. “Have any of you seen a small child running around?”

“Yes! Sam, you’re my hero!”

Bucky jumps up and dashes inside, and you sigh. After this, you’re not in a partying mood anymore. Candy Cane Lane is also well past closing so all there is left to do is go home and prepare for your flights. You, Bucky, Sam, Natasha, and Steve are in one car with Bucky driving. He keeps looking over at you with your head on the window. It’s his fault for running his big mouth and he’s not going to keep disappointing you.

“What flight leaves at 1 am?” Sam asks.

“The kind I can afford,�� Bucky answers. Again, Bucky sneaks a peek at you. He can’t end the night like this. “There’s something we gotta do first.”

Bucky does a complete one-eighty and drives in the opposite direction of the airport.

“What are you doing?”

Bucky doesn’t answer until he gets to Candy Cane Lane, but all the lights are off. “I screwed up everything. We were supposed to come to this.”

You get out of the car just like everyone else and stare down the dark and desolate road.

“Let’s just go home, Bucky.”

“No, this is Christmas. We came to see the lights.”

“What are you going to do? It’s one in the morning.”

“Hey! Turn on your lights!” Bucky takes off toward one of the houses and knocks on the door rapidly. “Come on, I got a girl out here that wants to see the lights!” A slight smile makes its way to your face. “Turn on the lights!”

Steve, Sam, and Natasha join in and yell at the top of their lungs to turn the damn lights on. You’re the only one who is silent because you can’t stop looking at Bucky. ONe by one, the lights turn on and the inflatables start to rise again. In this moment, everything disappears until the only person you can see is Bucky.

He walks over to you and smiles softly and with adoration. He reaches into his breast pocket and pills out a small box and hands it over to you.

“Merry Christmas, Y/N.”

You open it to reveal your birthstone encased in vines that make up the rest of the chain. You gasp and touch the stone delicately as if it will shatter under your touch.

“I love it so much. Thank you.”

You pull him in for a hug, and he slides his hands down your back. He did a dick thing by telling Scott how you feel, but he is most certainly making up for it now. You pull back from Bucky only enough to create only a few inches of space between you two. He glances down at your lips but doesn’t make a move.

“You’re welcome.”

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