#maybe he did it the first time for some fancy event and they enjoyed it so much it became routine
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midnight-els · 4 months ago
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rationalising Molly 'my hair has barely been more than brushed for two seasons' Cobb having perfectly styled curls in her hair in s3 by imaging Wayne tenderly curling and setting it for her each day
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heartowan · 26 days ago
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You didn't really check the time, but it must've been past midnight when you entered Jason's place for the first time this week, quietly closing the door behind you and tossing your keys back into your bag, which you placed on the hanger by the entrance.
Your steps were lazy and spaced out as you walked around the apartment, looking for him in the dark ─ turning the lights on would be too much of a splurge, so you simply settled for an almost blind search.
Approaching the bathroom, you heard the faint sound of water splashing, the noise recognizable as you'd heard that a thousand times, almost in the same situation.
"You always choose such ungodly hours for bathing." You said, walking into the small room in silent steps.
Jason was laying peacefully in the bathtub, his head resting against the wall beside him as he had his eyes closed, probably enjoying the comfort of the scented candles lit around the tub. You could smell the vanilla from the wax mixed with the scent of the peach bathbomb you gave him some time ago.
"I think this is the best hour for it." He murmured, not bothering to raise his voice. You liked seeing him relaxed like that.
You sat down at the edge of the tub, taking in his soft appearance. He looked very peaceful, his eyes shut and face relaxed. It was one of the few times you'd seen him with his jaw unclenched.
As you sat, his head immediately leaned closer to your thigh, resting against it like a pillow. Your heart warmed at the sight and at the feeling.
You two had just started dating. Things were still so new to both of you, but they were going well. You liked each other, more than either of you cared to admit, still too scared to pour your hearts out. But moments like these proved that the feeling was deeper than you thought.
Running a gentle hand through his damp hair, you let out a short sigh. "You look so peaceful." you murmured quietly, your voice caressing his ears.
"I am." he replied, leaning into your touch. "Even more now."
You smiled at that. He liked to say sweet things when you least expected him to. Jason wasn't one for sweet talk, but he made an effort for you. To see that pretty smile on your lips, to make you feel loved, to make you feel his love.
"How did tonight go?" You murmured quietly, your fingers still caressing his scalp, almost making him purr like a cat. He loved head scratches.
"Mhm..." he hummed, deciding if he should sugarcoat it or tell you the truth. He chose the truth. "It was... awkward. Like, very, but it wasn't the worst night ever. I'm still getting used to these things."
"You're still getting used to galas?" You smiled, your tone incredulous. "I thought you went to these things all the time."
"I did a few times when I was younger." He said. "But it's harder to adapt now. I mean, inside. Outside, I think I look... not that out of place, but inside, it's messy." He explained to you, his fingers coming up to gently caress your side, making your shirt wet. But neither of you cared.
"I get it." You nodded, offering him a more understanding smile now. "I'm sure you did well, though. You always do."
"Maybe... maybe go with me next time." He murmured almost sheepishly, his eyes opening for the first time. They drank you, your appearance, your messy hair, your sparkly eyes, your pretty, pretty nose. Every part of your face, your clothes, your arms, everything. "I think you'd fit in."
"Me?" you mumbled, your voice cracking a bit, making you wince. Suddenly, you felt a little shy from his gaze and from his proposal. The thought of him wanting you of all people to be his plus one at those fancy events made you feel some kind of warm anxiety, close to a good, excited feeling. "I don't think I would, honestly."
"I can already see it... a beautiful outfit on you, your hair pretty and styled, silver jewelry, the most glorious shoes..." he mumbled. He sounded almost like he was daydreaming. "And, of course, your stunning self to go with all of it."
You laughed at that, a genuine laugh, one of those he seemed to pull out of you anytime he did or said something remotely funny. You were down bad for that man. Shaking your head, you gave his shoulder a gentle pat.
"That sounds like an alternative reality." You said.
"I disagree." he said, looking over at you again. "In fact... wait a minute, I'll get all of that arranged right now for next month."
You stared at him in confusion, your eyebrows knitting together as he started getting up from the tube, and then your eyes widened.
"Jason-"
He got out of the bathtub, water splashing all over the edges and dripping down to the floor, as well as on you, your shirt and pants getting even damper.
You laughed again at his desperation, and at the fact that he didn't even bother to cover himself with a towel. He walked out of the bathroom in his full naked glory, droplets of water sliding down his chest as he padded over to the room, mumbling something about having to get on the phone right now.
You couldn't have chosen better.
a.n: i feel like this is so stupid... also, i didn't proof read, I'm sorry!
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hwallazia · 1 month ago
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❅ ₊ ⋆ A LIL’ NASTY UNDER THE MISTLETOE
nic’s notes ⋆ hello, lovelies, and welcome to my very first event! i figured that since i’ve been ia for a little too long, i could repay y’all in some way. <3 i’ll do my best to complete everything. happy almost xmas season! (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)
warnings ⋆ all the scenarios will contain mature content. minors, please, do not interact with any of them + all fanfictions will have their warnings explicitly stated right below the link to the story.
fancy joining santa’s naughty list? click here.
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TAKE MY DICK GIFT ! feat. kang yeosang.
⋆ synopsis. xmas eve’s finally here, and you & yeosang start your little gift exchange. you had bought your boyfriend — apart from a huge stack of videogames for him to vibe with & new headphones — some naughty gifts such as a little bullet vibrator & a fleshlight. little did you know he did the exact same thing. xmas eve was about to get real nasty.
warnings. tba
SUGAR SLEIGH RIDE ! feat. jeong yunho.
⋆ synopsis. caught in the chaos of an unexpected snowstorm, you and your brother’s best friend find yourselves stranded with no choice but to take shelter at his apartment. as the temperature drops and the cold seeps in, the crackling fireplace isn’t quite enough to keep him warm—so he turns to you for a different kind of heat.
warnings. tba
XMAS DINNER GOES WRONG ! feat. jung wooyoung.
⋆ synopsis. it seems like your husband can’t keep it in his pants, not even on a fucking christmas dinner with his family. but, as the lovely wifey you are, you gotta give him some relief, right?
warnings. married! au, almost getting caught, teasing, dirty nasty talk, squirting, unprotected sex, etc.
TIE ME UP LIKE I’M YOUR GIFT ! feat. song mingi.
⋆ synopsis. using restraints in the bedroom had been a fantasy of yours for the longest time—and xmas felt like the perfect excuse to make it a reality. armed with red velvet ribbons and a cheeky plan, you were ready to heat things up. but what you didn’t anticipate was just how much your fiancé would enjoy the idea—maybe even more than you.
warnings. tba
A LIL’ SEASONAL TURBULENCE ! feat. park seonghwa.
⋆ synopsis. on a flight to korea to visit your in-laws, seonghwa decides that a simple “merry xmas” just won’t cut it. instead, he opts for something far more daring—a surprise that leaves you breathless and pulled into the airplane’s tiny bathroom.
warnings. tba
ARCH MY BACK LIKE THAT VIOLIN ! feat. choi san.
⋆ synopsis. chosen to perform a violin solo for a xmas recital, he practices tirelessly at home. the haunting melody fills the air, but it’s the way his fingers move masterfully over the strings that stirs something deep within you, leaving you shifting in your seat. when his sharp gaze locks onto yours, he realizes exactly what kind of performance you’re craving—and he’s more than ready to deliver.
warnings. bf violinist! san, praise kink, dacryphilia, bulge kink, squirting, breeding kink, finger fucking, creampie, etc.
HOT TO GO ! feat. kim hongjoong.
⋆ synopsis. during a xmas eve dinner with your family, your best friend disappears. concerned, you search the entire apartment complex, only to stumble upon him watching porn alone. unable to resist, you decide to tease him a bit about it.
warnings. friends to lovers! au, getting caught, teasing, praise, blowjob, getting interrupted, dirty talk, etc.
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· all credits are reserved to © hwallazia — 2024.
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threeacttragedy · 2 months ago
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Entry 11: The One About the Heart of the Ocean
My father is a big history buff. He fancies himself a bit of an expert about the U.S. Civil War, U.S. Presidents, and World War II. In fact, he’s gifted me with the Useless Knowledge of which four U.S. Presidents were assassinated while in office (Lincoln, Garfield, McKinley, and Kennedy – you’re welcome for that little addition to your own Library of Useless Knowledge).
But, more importantly, my dad has instilled in me the importance of a timeline. The idea that, if you’re collecting information, it’s vital to keep it in chronological order, that way you can look at it, (try to) understand it, and theorize about what happened before and after an event. If the facts are out of order, the conclusion you reach may be in error.
My father and I also like to solve True Crime together. When he visits, we spend hours on the porch studying some random, usually cold, true crime event. We timeline the shit out of it, connect the puzzle pieces together, and exclaim in the end, “We’ve solved it!” I suppose that is part of what keeps me interested in Lukola – not that there is anything criminal in Lukola, except perhaps the “Single White Female” that pops up behind Nicola from time to time – I just enjoy the game of trying to put the pieces together.
Lukola has become a rather intriguing puzzle, don’t you think? It’s definitely one to which I do not have all the pieces. I do, however, enjoy collecting the information and chronologizing it, and now I find it enjoyable to scribble my thoughts out on Tumblr.
So, how did I get here?
Well, it started with boredom and ended with a timeline.
My first entry to the timeline?
July 20, 2024.
What happened on that date?
Well, nothing spectacular really, except JVN posted –
HOLD UP!
HOLD THE FUCK UP!!
OH SHIT!!
YES!
YES, you guessed it! After blowing JVN off for at least three, maybe four, posts in a row, I’m finally getting around to dedicating an entire entry to Their Royal Highness.
JVN is such a fascinating creature. I mean, you get beautiful, witty, and intelligent wrapped into one human being. Oh, and they are kind of a catty bitch, too, and who doesn’t love one of those? That’s why they're the Heart of the Ocean on the USS Lukola; they just give off this very rare blue diamond vibe. Well, that, and because something they did marks the focal point – the heart – from which the rest of my timeline branches.
*I will cut in here to note that I am referring to JVN as they/their in this entry as their Instagram bio indicates they accept “they/he/she.”
Okay, back to July 20.
On that date, JVN posted to TikTok their version of the Charli xcx “Apple” dance. You know that annoying TikTok trend that took over our summer? Yeah, that’s the one – the same one Antonia tried doing – she just couldn’t pull off the JVN version of it. Dear girl couldn’t come close to matching JVN’s “enthusiasm,” and JVN’s version was only made more enjoyable in that they were seemingly mocking Antonia!
But, all’s fair in love and war, right?
JVN’s bestie, Nicola, had already spent the entire summer subtlety combating Antonia over social media. The vibe in the fandom was that Antonia was always trying to one-up Nicola, with Nicola always coming out the victor. I’m sorry, Antonia, you just can’t beat some perfectly timed BTS drops.
So, why did JVN’s TikTok post intrigue me? It wasn’t because it was that amusing. It was because they’d done something I hadn’t noticed before – they’d taunted Antonia on a public forum.
Curious, that.
Now, I’m not saying it was the first time JVN mocked Antonia, but July 20 was the first time I noticed it. That date is the heart of my timeline, but it does not have to be the heart of yours. We can all start at different times but still reach the same conclusions, so long as we keep the information in order.
You would think one wouldn’t mess with the “girl friend” of your best friend’s “best friend,” at least not publicly. But, here was JVN shamelessly mocking Antonia on TikTok. And, just so we’re clear, the public opinion of what JVN was doing with this TikTok is available to view in the comments of their TikTok post. It wasn’t just me that came to this conclusion – and JVN has left these comments up for four months at this point.
JVN’s “Apple” dance was only made more interesting the following day – July 21 – when they included it in their Sunday Dump post on Instagram.
And, Nicola liked it.
Hmm, things were becoming curiouser and curiouser.
Let’s not even pretend that Nicola isn’t street savvy and didn’t understand the context of that video. And, let’s definitely not underestimate the length of her claws.
To be honest, I hadn’t paid too much attention to Lukola since mid-June. It was an “it is what it is” thing for me. Even though I believed the relationship between Luke and Nicola was complicated (see my first blog for that story), Luke had also apparently disappeared into the summertime sun with his friend group, which included Antonia.
Something about JVN openly making fun of Antonia, and Nicola, at the very least acknowledging it with an Instagram like, made me realize something in Luke’s situation must be shifting.
What have I said about little changes? That deviations in modus operandi are what make people start giving the side-eye to a situation.
And, side-eye I did!
I started paying attention to JVN and, on July 25, they posted a series of photos on TikTok and Instagram showcasing “What I would wear if you invited me to your…” We will fast-forward through all the slides until we get to the last one, which read, “…just got dumped and going to take 8 shots dinner at Lupe’s in SoHo.” Was it possible that JVN was hinting at a dumpster fire at the Soho Farmhouse?
If you don’t know what the Soho Farmhouse is, it’s the place where Luke and his friend group, including Antonia, frequented, probably on Luke’s dime (*insert wicked laugh – oh, and a disclaimer that this is all speculation).
Funny that Nicola liked this post on Instagram, too, and it wasn’t even buried in a Sunday Dump.
At this point, JVN had really sparked my damn interest. Like, dear one, what are you hinting at?
On July 29, Deux Moi creeped out from under its rock and reminded the fandom to hate Luke by rehashing Papsmear. Thank you, we needed that. I mean, half of us almost forgot how much we hated him! That’s me being a sarcastic tart, by the way. If we were to fast-forward to today, I’d argue that Luke was the most darling thing to come out of Bridgerton.
Any ways, again, thank you, Deux Moi, for those suspiciously timed Papsmear pictures because they aligned perfectly with the pap pictures People dropped the following day – July 30.
Yep, I am talking about those strangely awkward pap pictures of Luke hanging out in the murky waters of Sorrento with Antonia. Oh, and let’s not forget the video footage of that encounter, which I am sure still upsets and confuses people to this day. In fact, I know it does because, as I was researching this, I had a couple of people get annoyed after I asked them to view it. Funny thing is, that shit never bothered me (I didn’t say that it didn’t later confuse me!). The first time I saw them, I was like, “Luke is not into that girl at all,” and my next thought was, “I wonder how old these pictures are because I would have sworn JVN was hinting at something.”
Now, this story wouldn’t be complete if I didn’t address the rumor portion of it.
First rumor? That Antonia set up the entire Italy pap photo-op because she seemingly knew where to find the cameraman. So, let’s discuss that video everyone seems to hate to acknowledge exists. In the video, you can see Antonia maybe looking in the direction of the cameraman. She then leans into Luke, either to whisper something to him or to reach for something behind him. In my opinion – and this is strictly my opinion – it looks like she’s pretending to reach for something over his shoulder. Still shots of this interaction are the photos People published, presumably because Luke and Antonia looked like they were cheek to cheek.
Okay, notice I said, “first rumor,” because, yeah, there’s a second rumor, too! But, it fits snuggly into that first rumor. Almost immediately – because that’s how fast the Lukola Sleuths get to work around here – rumors began to circulate that Antonia was following on Instagram the photographer that took the Italy pap pictures. In fact, several people I’ve spoken to swear that they witnessed during a TikTok Live a host prove that Antonia was following this photographer. That’s a bit suspicious, isn’t it? Yeah, it fucking is.
Let’s keep moving.
That same day, we had that video drop of Luke watching fireworks, at night, with sunglasses. Speaking of sunglasses, I guess Luke found those motherfuckers because he sure as shit didn’t have them while floating around in that dirty ass water. Any ways, at the end of the video, Rory appears behind Luke, looking in the direction of the camera and smiling like a condescending, sneaky little shit. Now, who was the cameraman? Well, a possible suspect would be Antonia since she was not seen in the video. Go figure.
Alright, so that day finally ended and on July 31, JVN posted to TikTok a cutesy video of themself at the market titled, “When you catch someone trying to sneak a pic but you were born for these moments.” They prance around the market and randomly look at the cameraman (Mark) with a smile and a pose. The caption reads, “I welcome sneaky pics but I can’t guarantee I won’t sneak some back or put on a show for you.”
WAIT A MINUTE!
Did JVN just inexplicably confirm Luke was getting papped by his own friends?
Yeah, I kind of think JVN did.
And, Nicola liked this one as well when JVN posted it to Instagram on August 8.
Didn’t I tell you JVN was a fascinating creature? And, to be honest, JVN only gets better as this Lukola ship continues on its voyage.
Oh, strangely enough, a few days after the Italy pap crap, Luke returned to London alone. The friend group became unsettlingly silent, and Nicola started to get really, really loud – Chaos Week was incoming! And, so were some more JVN crumbs (and nicely timed clap backs).
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goblin-jr · 2 months ago
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And then i go and spoil it all by saying something stupid like i love you. 
Part 11 of 12
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Synopsis: whodunit? More like who’s not doing the most at the midsummers ball. A look into JJ’s head
Pairing: unrequited JJ x Reader, Eventual Rafe x Reader
Warnings: violence?
masterlist
JJ’s loafers clicked softly on the polished floor as he walked into the ballroom, the scent of expensive perfume and overripe fruit hanging heavy in the air. There was something about these events that always made him feel out of place. The Kooks thrived on it—this display of excess, of wealth that didn’t belong to them but was flaunted like some kind of badge. He hated it. And yet here he was, once again, a part of it. 
The Midsummer’s Ball wasn’t just any party. It was the party for the Kooks. Extravagant. Ridiculous. A display of everything they stood for—money, status, and an obnoxious level of entitlement. The country club ballroom glittered with chandeliers, fancy drinks, and a crowd of smug faces that made JJ want to roll his eyes every time someone walked by. If there was a competition for the most extravagant Kook event of the year, this would be the winner. He’d been here before, but it never got easier to stomach.
Tonight, though, there was a sense of something bigger hovering over him. Three things he had to keep in mind, three things that kept him from getting too lost in the sea of perfect hair and oversized smiles.
First, serve drinks. Get the tips. That part was easy enough. He could charm a few of the older women in the crowd, toss out a few sarcastic comments, make them laugh, and pocket a couple extra bills. If he was lucky, he'd avoid the worst of the Kooks' weirdness and maybe even walk out of here with a few hundred bucks. 
Second, keep John B safe. It wasn’t just the Kooks that bothered him. John B was—well, John B. He had no business being here, and everyone knew it. He didn’t belong in this world, no matter how much he tried to act like he did. JJ could already picture the way the Kooks will look at him—especially Topper, who will be practically frothing at the mouth when John B makes his first public appearance with Sarah tonight. Topper wasn’t the only one JJ was keeping an eye on. There were bound to be others, too, people who saw John B as the perfect punching bag. He wasn’t about to let that happen. Not tonight. 
And then there was Y/N. The third thing on his mind. Y/N was acting differently tonight. He couldn’t quite explain it—maybe it was the way her eyes were shining a little brighter than usual, or the way she kept smiling at random moments, like she knew some secret that made the whole night seem like a fairy tale. It pissed him off. That wasn’t like Y/N. She was always so... grounded. So real. But tonight? Tonight, she looked like she had everything figured out, like she was actually enjoying herself here. And that confused him. A lot.
He looked at her again as she walked beside him, the soft curve of her lips pulled into a smile. He didn’t return it, of course. Instead, he muttered something about the Kooks and their ridiculous champagne glasses, trying to make light of it, but deep down, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. Something about her.
“You good?” he asked, trying to sound casual, but his tone was sharp. Too sharp. 
Y/N glanced at him, and for a moment, their eyes met. There was something in the way she looked at him, something that made his heart skip. She was... happy. Too happy. He hated it. 
“Yeah, I’m good,” she replied, her voice steady but a little too light. There it was again—that smile. That confidence. It was like she didn’t need to hide anymore. Like she was finally okay with being here, with all of this.
“Right,” JJ muttered, shoving his hands in his pockets as they walked further into the ballroom. “Can’t say I’m feeling the same. This place is a joke.”
She laughed softly, but it wasn’t the same kind of laugh she usually gave. It was lighter, almost... carefree. 
He didn’t get it. What changed? He'd known Y/N for years, had watched her go through every kind of mess, every kind of heartbreak, but she’d always had that edge to her, that guarded, "don’t mess with me" attitude. She didn’t belong here, just like John B. But tonight, she didn’t seem to care about that. And that made JJ feel... unsettled. 
As they reached the catering area, Pope was already elbow-deep in trays of untouched food, and JJ tossed him a lazy salute. Pope just sighed, his frustration clear even from across the room.
“You set up all this mess yourself?” JJ asked, raising an eyebrow at the absurdity of the spread. There was more food here than anyone could possibly eat, but that didn’t stop the Kooks from acting like it was some sort of prize.
“Do you ever stop complaining?” Pope shot back, adjusting a tray with a little more force than necessary. 
“Nope.” JJ grinned back, slipping into his usual easy sarcasm. “The food’s not the problem, Pope. It’s the fact that none of these assholes are even gonna care to finish it. They’ll drink their champagne and pretend to care about all this ‘fancy’ food, and then throw it all away when they’re done, just like everything else in this goddamn world.”
Pope didn’t bother responding. He just continued arranging the food like he didn’t care anymore, which, honestly, he probably didn’t. They both hated being here, surrounded by people who didn’t even see them as human, but the money was good, and the world had a way of forcing them to stay put. 
“Yeah, well, don’t forget that we’re all just here to make money,” Pope muttered, and JJ didn’t argue. Pope had long stopped pretending to like any of this. They all had.
JJ’s eyes flicked back to Y/N, still standing by the drink station, her body language more relaxed than he’d ever seen it. She wasn’t looking at him, wasn’t paying attention to him at all. She was too busy talking to some Kook girl about something—probably some stupid brand of perfume or a new designer bag, knowing them.
That smile, though. He couldn’t shake it. 
He knew he should focus on the job, on keeping John B safe, on avoiding the Kooks as much as possible. But Y/N? She was making it damn hard to do any of that. It wasn’t just the fact that she was so... different tonight. It was the look in her eyes which looks like she has everything figured out, the way she barely looked at him anymore.
That was the thing about Y/N. She had this way of getting under his skin, making him feel things he didn’t want to feel. Like jealousy. Or uncertainty. He hated it. But he couldn’t just ignore it. Not with the way she’d been acting, not when she seemed like she was in on some secret he wasn’t part of.
He shook his head, forcing himself to focus. 
Tonight was about John B. Tonight was about staying one step ahead of the Kooks, about making sure no one touched his best friend. 
But damn if that little voice in his head didn’t keep screaming What’s going on with Y/N?
The air in the ballroom was thick, suffocating, with the clinking of glasses and the hum of conversation surrounding him. JJ moved through the crowd with his usual swagger, but tonight, it felt different. Tonight, the weight of every Kook’s gaze seemed to land a little harder on his shoulders, and it wasn’t just because of the way they looked at him. It was the way they looked at her—Y/N. She was everywhere, serving drinks and refilling trays with that damn smile on her face, like she actually belonged here. 
He’d been trying to keep his head down, serve his drinks, and get through the night without getting caught up in the mess, but every time he glanced in her direction, he found his eyes locked on her. There was something about her tonight that rubbed him the wrong way. She was too damn happy. Too effortless, too easy with the Kooks, laughing at their stupid jokes, making conversation like she wasn’t the same Y/N who used to roll her eyes at every Kook in sight. He couldn’t figure it out. 
It wasn’t like Y/N didn’t deserve a little fun. Hell, she was always the one holding things together, making sure everyone else was alright. But this—this wasn’t her. Not the way she was acting. Not the way she was fitting in with them, letting them talk to her like she was one of them. JJ couldn’t stomach it. She wasn’t a part of their world, and for some reason, it hurt to see her acting like she was. 
As she passed by him, her tray of drinks balanced effortlessly in her hands, JJ’s eyes tracked her every move. He watched as she made her way over to a table of Kooks—glistening with their designer clothes and condescending grins. They were looking at her like they were interested. And that wasn’t something JJ was prepared to handle.
His chest tightened, a hot wave of jealousy gnawing at him. She handed drinks out with that damn smile still on her face, and that was when he saw him. Rafe. Of course. 
Rafe was leaning against the far side of a table, his signature smirk plastered on his face. When Y/N got close, he straightened up, his eyes locking onto hers with a predatory gleam that sent an uneasy shiver down JJ’s spine. As she handed him a drink, a small bracelet glittered on Rafe’s arm. Their fingers brushed as their hands met. But it wasn’t just a casual hand-off. It was too slow, too deliberate. And when their hands lingered for a second too long, JJ felt a surge of irritation. 
There was something in the way Rafe looked at her. It was... familler. JJ knew that look. He’d seen it before. It was the look Rafe reserved for people he was too close to—people he thought he had some kind of claim on. And the worst part? Y/N didn’t seem to register it. She didn’t seem to notice the way Rafe’s gaze followed her like a shadow, tracking her every move. JJ’s gut twisted. There was something off about this. And he needed to find out what.
He couldn’t let it slide. Not tonight.
He slipped through the crowd, his eyes never leaving her as he moved toward the bar area where she was. When he finally caught up with her, he tried to keep his voice light, to make it seem like he was just messing around, but the tension in his chest couldn’t be ignored. 
“Yo, is Rafe bothering you?” He kept his tone casual, but there was a sharp edge to his words.
Y/N barely looked at him when she responded, waving him off like it was nothing. “No, not at all, JJ. He’s fine.”
But there was something in the way she said it, something that didn’t sit right with him. Her voice was too soft, too dismissive. And the way she wasn’t meeting his eyes? That was another red flag. Something was wrong, and JJ didn’t like it. 
His fingers itched to pull her aside, to demand that she tell him what was going on. But he couldn’t. Not yet. 
Before he could press her, the doors of the ballroom swung open, and suddenly, the atmosphere shifted. The crowd’s murmur grew louder, more excited. JJ turned to see who had arrived, and his eyes narrowed when he saw them.
Sarah and John B. 
Sarah looked every bit the Kook she was, her smile dazzling, her confidence radiating from her. She had the whole place eating out of her hand, even without trying. But John B? His messy hair, that plain shirt—it was like a neon sign saying, I don’t belong here. JJ watched him shift uncomfortably under the weight of every Kook’s scrutinizing gaze, his eyes darting around the room as if he was looking for a way out.
The whispers started instantly, loud enough for JJ to catch a few snippets. 
“Is that John B?”
"Why is he here? Who invited the pogues?”
JJ’s jaw clenched as the cruel laughter followed. The Kooks weren’t just gossiping—they were tearing John B apart like he was some kind of freak show. And JJ wasn’t about to stand for it. His blood boiled, and he could feel every bit of their judgment like it was a physical punch. 
“Damn, they’re ruthless,” Pope muttered from behind him. JJ didn’t need to look to know Pope was just as pissed. They both hated the way the Kooks treated people like John B.
“They always are,” JJ growled, scanning the room for any sign of Topper. Sure enough, he spotted the smug bastard weaving through the crowd, zeroing in on John B like he was prey. 
“John B,” JJ muttered under his breath. “I’m coming, man.” 
As he pushed his way through the crowd, JJ’s gaze caught on Kie. She had just entered, and damn, she looked hot. The way her violet dress clung to her, the confident smile she wore, the way she moved—JJ couldn’t help but stare for a second. He quickly shook himself out of it, though. Now wasn’t the time for distractions.
Kie noticed him watching, raising an eyebrow as she approached. “What’s got you all worked up?” 
JJ nodded in John B’s direction. “The usual. Kooks being Kooks.”
“Figures.” She crossed her arms, eyes darting between JJ and the group of Kooks. “You’ve got this under control, right?”
“Yeah,” JJ said, his voice low, still watching Topper’s every move. “Just gotta make sure they don’t escalate things.”
Topper was already making his move, slithering through the crowd with that smug, self-satisfied grin on his face. JJ knew exactly what was coming. Topper always had a way of making things worse. Always knew how to rile up the Kooks, to make them turn on anyone they saw as beneath them. And right now? John B was the perfect target.
“John B,” JJ muttered under his breath, more to himself than to anyone else. He started weaving through the crowd, cutting a path toward his best friend. 
He found John B by the punch bowl, looking a little lost, a little out of place, his hands hovering awkwardly by his side as Sarah chatted with some of her friends. 
“Yo, man,” JJ called out, tapping him on the shoulder. “You gotta watch out. Topper and his crew are already talking about you. They’re looking for an excuse to start something.”
John B glanced at him, then at Sarah, his frown deepening. “I can’t leave. I promised Sarah I’d stay with her.”
JJ sighed. He hated this. He hated that John B felt like he had to put himself through this just to be with Sarah. But he knew how much she meant to him. 
“Just keep your head down,” JJ warned, his voice low but firm. “Don’t give them an excuse. And don’t let Sarah get too close to them.”
Pope and Kie appeared behind them, looking just as concerned. “We’ll make sure he’s good,” Pope said, giving JJ a reassuring look. 
JJ gave a tight nod, but as he turned away, his eyes flicked back to the crowd. And there, lurking in the periphery, was Rafe. Again. Always watching Y/N. Never letting her out of his sight.
The night passed in a blur of drinks, whispers, and quiet tension. JJ kept a close eye on John B, moving through the crowd like a shadow. And Rafe—Rafe was everywhere, always within arm’s reach of Y/N, watching her with that same unsettling gaze. It was like the guy had an invisible tether to her, never letting her out of his sight. 
JJ wanted to intervene, wanted to ask what was going on, but something told him that wasn’t his place. It wasn’t the time.
The Kooks were loud, the music was booming, and JJ had been doing everything in his power to keep an eye on John B, but it wasn’t easy with the way things were escalating.
Suddenly, he saw John B make a move toward the back hall. JJ’s gut twisted. Don’t go alone, man.
“Pope!” JJ called out, his voice sharp. “Kie!”
Pope was already moving toward him, and Kie was right behind, the two of them looking as restless as he felt.
“John B’s heading to the bathroom,” JJ said urgently. “Topper and his crew are on the prowl. We need to go.”
“Of course, this is exactly what we need right now,” Pope muttered, his eyes scanning the crowd. Kie’s expression darkened as she followed him through the ballroom.
JJ’s eyes flicked back to Y/N for a brief moment, just enough time for him to catch a glimpse of her laughing with the Kooks. She didn’t look like she was in trouble—yet. But Rafe’s presence still gnawed at him. His focus snapped back to John B.
“Go,” JJ ordered. “I’ll keep an eye on things from behind.”
Pope, Kie, and JJ cut through the crowd, weaving between people like shadows. As they hit the back hallways, JJ cursed under his breath. They were too late.
Topper was standing at the bathroom door, the rest of his gang flanking him like a pack of wolves. John B was stuck, looking trapped as Topper smirked at him.
“Well, well, well,” Topper’s voice oozed with malicious satisfaction. “If it isn’t the Pogue who thinks he’s good enough for Sarah.”
JJ’s heart hammered as he pushed forward, Pope and Kie right on his heels.
“John B,” JJ called, voice low, but loud enough to be heard. “You alright?”
John B shot him a quick, almost relieved look. “You know how it goes, man. Topper’s just pissed I’m with Sarah.”
“Yeah, I figured that much,” JJ grumbled. He kept his gaze locked on Topper. “You need to move, man. This isn’t the place for this shit.”
“Not until I’m done,” Topper sneered, stepping forward. “You think you can walk around here like you belong, B? You’re nothing but trash.” He shoved John B, sending him stumbling back into the hallway wall.
JJ’s blood boiled. “Get your hands off him, Topper.”
But Topper wasn’t done. He swung at John B again, his group following in his lead. The hall was tight, but there was enough room for fists to fly. Pope stepped forward to back John B up, while Kie, cool-headed as always, sized up the situation.
Before JJ could get another word in, a punch was thrown, connecting with John B’s jaw. JJ jumped into the fray, grabbing Topper’s arm and twisting it behind his back, slamming him into the wall with a sickening thud. Pope had Topper’s lackeys occupied, keeping them from ganging up on John B.
Kie, standing near the ornate curtains that hung along the hallway, caught a glimpse of the situation escalating. Her eyes darted between the fight and the tension in the room. Without a second thought, she grabbed one of the nearby candle holders, lighting the end of one of the velvet curtains on fire.
The flames caught quickly, sending a wave of heat and light through the hallway. The Kooks’ eyes widened in fear as the fire began to lick the sides of the curtains.
“Shit!” Kie hissed, grabbing the fire extinguisher from the wall. She quickly sprayed the flames, but not before the fire had spread enough to cause a ruckus. The Kooks were freaking out, scrambling to get away from the heat.
“Let’s go! Now!” JJ shouted.
They didn’t need any more prompting. The Kooks scattered, some tripping over their own feet, others too stunned to do much. The fight had lost its steam as the chaos of the fire consumed the hall. JJ grabbed John B’s arm, pulling him away from the wreckage.
“You good?” JJ panted.
“Yeah, yeah,” John B replied, wiping his face. “Let’s get the hell outta here.”
They headed for the back door, but as JJ looked behind them, the sound of the fire alarms blaring and the chaos of the guests flooding into the hallway only added to the madness. JJ scanned the panicked faces in the ballroom but Y/N was nowhere to be found. JJ did another scan and his blood ran cold. Y/N was missing, but so was Rafe. With this realization, JJ turned on his heel and ran towards the parking lot. 
But as soon as JJ stepped outside, the cold night air hit his skin like a slap. The parking lot was eerily quiet compared to the chaos of the country club, the only sounds being the distant blare of fire alarms and the low hum of the streetlights. He was scanning the area, trying to catch his breath after the mess with Topper and his crew, when something—someone—stopped him in his tracks.
His heart skipped a beat.
There, with her back turned to him, was Y/N.
She was farther away than he expected, just past the edge of the parking lot, but there was no mistaking her. Her hair was glowing in the light, illuminated like she was caught in a scene out of a dream. And then, his stomach twisted when he saw him.
Rafe.
His hand was resting low on her back, fingers spread wide as though it was the most natural thing in the world. The scene hit JJ like a punch to the gut. The sight of Rafe, standing so close to Y/N, smiling down at her with that smug, self-assured look—like he owned the damn world—made JJ’s blood boil.
He could feel the heat rising in his chest, the anger flooding through his veins, pushing out everything else. What the hell is going on here? He barely thought it through before his mouth opened.
“Y/N!” he shouted, his voice thick with something between panic and fury. It wasn’t even the volume of his voice—it was the raw emotion in it, the protective streak he hadn’t been able to shake off for months.
Without a second thought, he took two strides forward, every muscle in his body coiled, ready to pull Rafe off her. He wasn’t going to let this happen—not when he thought something was wrong. He couldn’t explain why he felt so suddenly defensive, but seeing her so close to Rafe like that, it triggered something deep in him, something urgent.
But then—
She turned, her face illuminated by the moonlight.
It was subtle at first—just a soft flicker in her expression, but it was enough to make JJ stop dead in his tracks. His heart stuttered, the air in his lungs freezing.
Y/N’s smile wasn’t just a grin—it was something else. The kind of smile that lit up a whole damn room. But it wasn’t just that—it was the look in her eyes, the joy that was shining there like he’d never seen before. She wasn’t just content, or amused. She was radiating happiness. Pure, unguarded, untainted joy. The kind of joy that no one could fake.
Her laugh, soft and melodic, floated on the air, and it was in that moment, standing frozen in the parking lot, that JJ realized something that knocked the wind out of him.
Y/N was happy.
She wasn’t just smiling out of politeness, or trying to force herself through a conversation. No. She was completely in the moment, the tension in her shoulders gone, her whole body open and light in a way he hadn’t seen in months. 
A sick feeling washed over him, a cold realization that hit deeper than any punch could.
This wasn’t what he thought it was.
Y/N wasn’t in danger. She wasn’t upset. She wasn’t... anything he’d imagined. Rafe wasn’t threatening her, wasn’t making her uncomfortable. They were just... talking. Laughing. And it wasn’t forced. It wasn’t awkward. It wasn’t the nervous, shaky smile she used to give when she didn’t know where she stood.
Rafe’s hand, still resting on her back, didn’t look threatening anymore. It just looked like... well, it looked like something they’d both been comfortable with for a long time, something that had never been in JJ’s purview.
JJ stood there, watching them for what felt like an eternity. His legs felt heavy, like they were cemented to the ground, his chest tight as he tried to reconcile the image of Y/N—his Y/N—with Rafe standing so close to her, looking at her like she was the only thing that mattered in the world.
His heart hammered, but in the wrong way now. The rage that had flared up in him moments before suddenly deflated, leaving nothing but confusion and guilt. 
Y/N wasn’t in trouble. She wasn’t even thinking about him. She was... happy. Happier than he’d seen her in so long. And he had no right to ruin that.
For a moment, JJ just stood there, paralyzed, as the scene played out before him. Rafe was leaning in, saying something, and Y/N was listening, hanging on his every word. JJ’s heart twisted, but he didn’t move. He didn’t step forward. He didn’t charge in like he had originally planned.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he made his decision. He turned, slowly, and walked away from the scene, his feet heavy as they carried him back toward the club. His mind was racing, filled with questions he didn’t have the answers to.
He wasn’t sure, but one thing was certain—whatever was happening between Y/N and Rafe, it wasn’t his place to interfere. Not tonight.
At least, not yet.
—-
A/n: this was highkey not where the story was going to go…. Shoutout to @immyowndefender for putting the thought of JJ figuring the mystery out before Y/N tells him in my head. 
I might do a bonus in a bit to see the ball from Y/N’s perspective. There is so much potential for cute rafe moments. 
One chapter left!!!
Next time: the end of the road
Taglist: ​​
@hockeybabe87 , @idiotussupremus , @certifiedhaters , @oatmealisweird, @sluggmuffin , @maybankslover , @ren-ni, @wh0reforbucknasty , @enjoymyloves , @bilssturns , @dragonslight , @willowpains , @sidney-86 , @urbrunettebombshell, @fluffybunnyu , @stars4birdie
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joonieskinks · 1 year ago
Text
i got my red dress on tonight
simon ghost riley x reader | fluff, some swearing. just a nice, sweet confession <3 | 3.7k
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Hair freshly cut, make up done, red dress adorned and high heels slipped on. 
You felt and certainly looked like a new woman. It was however a necessary effort tonight as this was no casual event. You, the 141, everyone in the unit was invited to a rather fancy gala. A reward of sorts for your efforts in taking down Makarov, a thank you. Your appearance tonight was certainly something you weren't used to anymore. Not when it came down to 5 minutes to get ready in the morning when the Sergeant calls at 4 AM. But this time was different, and no one could deny that you didn’t look elegant, enticing and beautiful. Maybe it was the outfit and your appearance this evening giving you the confidence, or maybe it was your desire for a certain Lieutenant. 
Perhaps both. Both in the sense that you wanted to see what he would think of you.
Nothing big has really ever happened between the two of you, besides the longing stares, lingering touches and laughs in private occasionally. You two were friends, you stitched him back together when he needed it, you were a confidant. You trusted Simon, and he trusted you. Enough to even tell you his name overtime, it was a memory you treasured deeply…
One year prior…
Simon had a blow to his back, grazing by his shoulder, it was truly a miracle the bullet didn’t rupture deeper with lasting damage. He was fortunate, and trusted you to take care of him. You plopped him on a bed and got to work, carefully extracting what you could without hurting him. It was in these moments of exposure, his back bare to you, trusting in you, that Simon would talk. He would thank you, compliment your skills, ask you about your day. It softened you right up, and you would smile, enjoying his voice. Seeing him so relaxed, it was refreshing and certainly endeared you to him. Yes, he presented a tough exterior, but underneath the mask, he really was just a man. 
“Ghost, can you move a little to the left here, I need the angle to-”
“Simon.” 
You paused at the sound of his deep voice.
“Sorry?”
“Simon, can you move a little left…” He muttered out, you could see his confidence rapidly dissolving before you. But you quickly realized and smiled. As he glanced back your way, shuffling to where you needed him to be, your eyes met briefly and you nodded encouragingly. 
“Simon…” Trying the name out for the first time. You liked it. He liked you saying it too.
You wondered if it would suit his bareface... “Thank you for telling me.” 
“I wanted you to know.” He admitted, feeling a rising blush settle upon his cheeks, and one on yours. It was moments like these where he was thankful for the mask. 
...
Slowly but surely, you fell in love with the tall, broody Brit, you just didn’t know how he felt on his side of things. Apart from quite literally being unable to see his face, he was hard to read. But Simon did have his moments, it brewed hope deep within you. He could be soft, even in his most vulnerable moments where anxiety might overpower all- he was nothing but kind to you. He was an enigma, a blend of both steadfastness and sweetness but you loved it. It took some time to warm up to him, but now that you’ve seen the glimpses of Simon, you couldn’t help but want more. 
So tonight felt huge for you. You felt good, your best, finally clean and put together. It certainly was a nice break from the dusty old uniform. You wanted to see his reaction to you, to see if maybe, just maybe, he would be interested too. 
With one last nod in the mirror, you were out the door downstairs to the hotel ballroom. Perhaps a little late, you would at least make an entrance. Approaching the doors to the hall, they were opened up upon your arrival, revealing a marble, descending staircase to the floor. 
One foot in front of the other, you started to make your way down, treading a little carefully in those heels…
Meanwhile the rest of the 141 were standing around their table, finally enjoying a night out and relaxing with one another. 
“Do you think she’ll even show at this point?” Johnny asked, looking around the group for opinions, rolling up his sleeve to check his watch. John was barely engaging, more like surveying the room, Kyle was knocking back a drink, while Simon kept to himself, standing by his lonesome. Hands resting against the back of his chair, face and emotions hidden behind the mask. Events like this were a lot for him, but he was doing his best by just being here. He couldn’t quite get all dressed up without it tonight, just a little too vulnerable. 
“I don’t know. But she’s usually quite punctual, ain't she?” Kyle returned, grabbing another glass of champagne from the waiter walking by. 
“You know how gals are, hair and makeup, fashionably late.” Johnny teased, but Kyle just shook his head.
“Not our girl, mate. Have you met’er?” He laughed, hitting Johnny gently with his elbow. He could only roll his eyes, ready to knock one back himself. His eyes surveyed for a waiter, turning towards the stairs he spotted red. 
A beautiful woman in red. One he actually recognized, one that- 
Oh. 
“Uh- Are you sure about that, boys?” Johnny chuckled into his glass, staring at a certain someone in particular to see what he’s seeing.
They all turned at once, glancing over in the direction where Johnny was currently nudging his head. Kyle was the first to produce a low whistle at the sight of you, while John was squinting his eyes, not quite clear yet. 
But it was Simon that couldn’t stop gawping. It took him a second as well, thinking Johnny was just eyeing up another girl he could possibly take home tonight. But it really was you, looking like a goddess. Your hair was shorter than it used to be, your figure outlined beautifully in your dress. A waist he wanted to get his hands on immediately, claiming you as his. A smile of confidence on your face. You looked truly beautiful. Simon would argue that you’ve always been beautiful to him, but there’s a certain glow about you tonight. You made an effort, he hoped in part that it was all for him. 
You approached the table smiling, all the boys still looking at you. 
“Well well well, Charmer. Don’t you clean up nice.” Johnny said, eyes still wandering along your frame. Kyle could only pat his Scottish friend on the back in defeat. “Alright, alright. Maybe I owe you one”. Price was smiling too, almost like a proud father, happy to have all his kids together again.
That left you with Simon. You could feel his gaze on you, but you felt too embarrassed to look. It was suddenly like the weight of the world was on you, and you were almost scared. 
What if he was staring in disappointment? You grandstanding like this to get a reaction. It was unlike you, maybe he wouldn’t like this. Fuck. 
You pushed the thoughts to the side as you finally looked up, trying to be brave and smile. The boys were looking on as well, sipping and chatting quietly. They all knew what was going on here, all except the two of you, of course. 
You met his eyes for a second before they left you and studied the ground. Your smile dropped when he excused himself, walking away abruptly, not bothering to look back for a second glance. You watched him as he walked away, his suit fitting him just right. He looked handsome, proper like this. Even when he walks away from you, you’re still thinking about how he affects you… Gosh.
His feet carry him up the stairs and out onto the balcony outside. 
You bit the inside of your cheek, trying to choke back your own disappointment. 
Did you look bad? Was he unimpressed? Was he not attracted to you? Was he embarrassed by you? Were you too much?
“Lass, listen. You look great,” Johnny started, taking you out of your thoughts. “He probably just needs a moment. You know how he is.” 
You nodded with a defeated look, accepting the flute full of alcohol from John as he made his way to stand next you. He let you take a sip to calm your nerves a bit before he drew you into a small hug, whispering in your ear. 
“I’ve been around him too long and seen you two enough times to know when he needs you. I think maybe you know it too. Go.” He encouraged, pulling back with a reassuring stare. John searched your eyes, hoping the message would sink in. You could only nod as the thoughts overwhelmed you, patting his shoulder as a thank you. 
You raised your cup to the boys around you before taking a hefty swig. 
“Gonna need this I reckon.” You quipped before you lifted up your dress to walk across the room, heading after Simon. 
Your emotions are swirling. You’re still a little self-conscious, yet determined as you climb the stairs in your heels. Numb, but feeling absolutely alive at the prospect of Simon needing you too. You’ve always felt something there for him, of course. But with the way Price talked, it was like you too had an effect on the Lieutenant. Your heart swells at the thought and you pick up your pace to the door, hands resting against the cool, metal bar. 
You move to open it slowly, catching a glimpse of Simon’s back turned to you, hands gripping the balcony railing tightly, clearly lost in his own head. You slowly make your way over to him, ready to turn if he decided he wanted to be alone instead. 
“Simon?” You softly prod as you approach him. “Are you okay?” 
He scrunches his shoulders up at the touch of your hand, your body threatening to lean against his at any moment. You’re trying to meet his eyes beneath the mask but he keeps staring straight on ahead at the gardens. You two stay like this for a couple moments, Simon still unable to answer, lost in his own mind on how to deal with this. 
“Si, I just wanted to check on you, make sure you were alright.” 
Your thumb brushes his jacket, moving soothingly back and forth. You’re trying to comfort him, show him you care, that you’re always going to be there for him. That you know him now, that you can read him even beyond Ghost’s persona. You’re trying to help. All he has to do is talk. Open up, his mind is racing. Say something, you fool. Say something. 
You pull your touch away from him, flattening out your dress anxiously. Your gaze defeated and falls to the floor. 
He doesn’t want you here, he just doesn’t know how to say it. Take a hint, Y/N. John was wrong. 
“I’m sorry, Simon, if I’ve done anything to upset you. I didn't mean it, whatever it was.” You mutter, your chest growing heavy. “I’ll see you around, okay?” Biting your lips back, you remove yourself from his presence, his smell, him. 
The tears start to prick at the sides of your eyes, you feel ridiculous and crushed and gutted and-
Simon turns to grab your arm, halting you from moving away from him any further. You turn your head at the feeling. His large, warm hand completing wrapping around your arm. He was so big, comforting. It made your heart leap into your throat.
You meet his eyes once more, and this time he holds it. Looking between yours, you can tell he’s thinking, he’s searching, he’s calculating. You understand, and move to stand in front of him. Your hand coming to rest on top of Simon’s, you smile. Nodding, reassuring him that you’re here, you’re patient, you’re willing. You squeeze his hand. All for him.
All for him and his stomach is flipping, his brain is haywire. He wants to pour his heart out to you, he wants to tell you how much you mean to him. He does, he adores you to pieces and wants you all to himself. The Charmer and the Ghost, he wants you, all of you and he needs to know you want all of him too. It just takes a bit to draw it out. But you’re worth it. You’re wonderfully you, you want him and you’re worth it. 
“You look beautiful tonight.” He whispers, and his voice is music to your ears. Just at the sound, you’re smiling like a kid all over again. It causes a tear to escape down your cheeks, and he notices immediately, moving his hand to wipe it away.
“Don’t cry ‘cause of me, love.” You shake your head.
“I’m okay now. I’m here with you.” Leaning your head into his touch, he caresses your cheek. Your eyes flutter closed at the feeling. He’s warm, he’s comforting, he’s all you want, he thinks you’re beautiful and he’s finally touching you like you’ve longed for. 
If this moment could last forever, you’d surely find a way to become immortal.
“Forgive me.” Simon whispers, his body moving closer to yours. “M’not any good at this.” 
You brush his insecurity off without a second thought. 
“I think you look beautiful tonight too, Simon.” You bite your bottom lip, shy under his gaze. But neither of you let up. His eyes flickering down to your mouth at your movement. Simon clears his throat at the sight, bringing up his other hand to cup your face. He opens his mouth to respond, but you beat him to it.
“I mean it. Very handsome to me.” You breathe out slowly, trying to focus on your thoughts as the proximity to him makes your head woozy. 
“Ghost is handsome to me, and he looks very good this evening.” Your hands move to copy his around his face, touch gently colliding with the mask. “But I think Simon does too… Even if he’s hidden away.” Your thumbs are palming at the material, you move closer to him until your chests meet. A small intake of air can be heard from the soldier, and as you move your head closer to his. He then wraps his arms around your waist to keep you there, acting on impulse. At first he surprises himself, unsure if he made the right call, but your gorgeous smile is there to reassure him. 
Simon lets his forehead rest against yours, the cool material against your skin, calming your aching fever for him, centering your world. 
“I adore Simon. I want you to know that.” You look to his chest, his lips, then settling on the eyes you fell in love with.
“Even if I never get to see him, I choose him.” You remove your hand from his face, but only to make room for your lips. You gently touch them to the mask, lingering as you cherish this moment being so close to the man you love. 
You pull back and his eyes are glued to yours, taking in your action, your kiss, your confession. It’s all he’s wanted and more for years, and now he finally has it right in front of him. But you all too quickly move. You release your hold on him, going to move away. You want to give him his space as you know this is a lot for one night. The last thing you want to do is overwhelm him. The fact that he knows how you feel for him, is enough for you. In time, he will let you know how he feels. And yes, maybe that can be enough for now.
You give him a polite, small smile before going to move away from his grasp again. But he holds you still to him, refusing to let you go. You two remain in each other's embrace for a moment, trying to read one another’s eyes. 
“Simon?” You whisper. Asking him, urging him, encouraging him. He’s trusted you for a long time, he adores you, fuck- he loves you. This is honestly a long time coming at this point. 
Hands move to his head, pulling off the mask hiding his face. You can only watch him as he drops his guard before you, the trust evident. The gesture is a shock to your system, but only love and adoration for his bravery flows after. 
It slips off into his hands and it takes Simon a minute before he can look you in the eyes. He’s both afraid and he’s over the moon. He’s happier than ever but also feels like his heart could stop, he’s everywhere and in between. His soft eyes finally land on your face, your own scanning him for the first time, drinking him in. His heart races a mile a minute, ever waiting for your reaction. 
“Simon…” You whisper. Your hands coming up to finally unite with his bare skin. You hesitate at first, hovering above briefly, silently asking for permission. He nods slowly, eyes still scanning yours for any sign of rejection. 
But you don’t have any. In fact, you think he’s rather gorgeous under the mask. Your thumbs caress his cheeks, whisk delicately over his scars, adorning his soft lips. You’re in his hair, tracing his jaw…
“You really are beautiful.” Another tear slips down your face as the smile erupts. The gesture, his trust in you, his gorgeous face. Your Simon.
He lets the breath he was holding slip from his lungs, relieved. 
“Thank you for trusting me with this, Si.” You whisper once more, eyes moving between his and his lips. At just the sight, you feel a fire starting to burn in your stomach. And he feels the same. The girl he loves isn’t repulsed by his scars, by the man behind the Ghost. Of course he’s overwhelmed at the rush of emotion and support and love he feels from you. He doesn’t waste a second more and brings his hand to the back of your head, bringing your lips to his. 
He’s soft, he’s hot, he’s everywhere. On your mouth, your waist, your head, his chest against yours. It makes your head spin and your body ache for him, more and more. Simon attempts to pull you closer to him, tight, reassuring you he won’t let go. Fuck, and he feels good against you, your nails slightly digging into his shoulders. He’s palming at your waist, fingers slipping down to just above your ass. He can barely resist. 
Simon breathlessly releases you, bringing his forehead back down to touch yours. You hum contently, staring up at the gorgeous man you’ve come to know and love. He refuses to let you go, enraptured by this moment. 
“Si,” You start, still catching your breath. “I want you. All of you. I have for quite some time now.” You laugh a little at your school girl confession, finally admitting your feelings for him. 
“You have me. You’ve always had me, m���just shit at showing it.” You bring him in for another kiss, unable to resist as you watch that gorgeous face produce that deep, deep voice for the first time. It could bring you to your knees, you’re so wrapped up in your love for him and he is too. 
“What do you think the boys will say?” You jokingly inquire. Simon just huffs and smirks. 
“They’ve known for a long time. If anything, I reckon they’ll be relieved, love.” Your eyebrows shoot up and he chuckles, kissing your shocked expression.
“Wait- this whole time?” He nods in confirmation. 
“Since you showed up on base and charmed your way into the 141. Sarcastic but persuasive one, you are.” Simon’s staring down at you, lovingly. Reminiscing, but also thankful for the road walked to get to where you two are now.
“Charmer… Is it you who gave me that? I never figured it out.” 
“Yes, mam. That’s what you are.” 
“My, Simon Riley. Are you flirting with me?” You teased, propping up an eyebrow. Your confidence, your beauty, your love for him- it makes a man do wild things. He didn’t even know he could dip a girl until he tried. 
“Si!” You grasp your hands around his neck, clinging to him for support. But he’s not wavering in the slightest, just gazing at you with nothing but adoration in his eyes. 
“I love you.” He confesses, touching his nose to yours. He’s waiting, patiently. He hopes you’ll say it too. 
Your eyes begin to well up with tears again because finally. The man you’ve longed for after all these years…
“Simon, I love you too.” His gorgeous smile cracks onto his face once again, and you bring your lips to his. He may not be much of an expressive man, but he certainly is with you, here with his hands all over you and kissing you like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do. It’s the happiest he thinks he’s ever been, and it’s all thanks to you. 
His Charmer in that gorgeous, gorgeous red dress. 
/
“Where the fuck did they get off to?” Kyle asks the boys, utterly perplexed. You two missed the whole gala and for what? Price just chuckles. 
“Don’t you think you two already know?” Johnny just rolls his eyes at Price’s comment, motioning for Kyle to follow as he gets up from the table. 
They make their way up to the balcony, spotting your red figure through the glass, stopping as they see you pulled horizontal. The boys take a second and look to see that a man has indeed dipped you, and is indeed kissing you. 
“Who the fuck is that?” Johnny asks menacingly, squinting through the glass. But Kyle just smiles, nudging his friend to glance at the floor.
The mask.
“Well, fuck me- He did tell us he was a handsome fella, huh? Sneaky bastard…”
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f1girliefics · 1 year ago
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F1 Drivers Christmas Eve with You - Preferences
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Max Verstappen/Daniel Ricciardo/Lando Norris/Oscar Piastri/Carlos Sainz/Charles Leclerc/George Russel/Lewis Hamilton/Yuki Tsunoda x Reader
A/N: Decided to include a lot more of the drivers for this special Christmas edition! I hope you all enjoy it! 
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Max Verstappen
He would turn his romantic side ON.
He has the entire evening planned.
Romantic dinner at a nice restaurant, then you would go to his place to watch movies and exchange gifts.
Max is the kind to spend months prior to any event thinking about what to buy.
He wants to get a meaningful gift for you.
And let's be fair he would be happy with anything. Clothes? Yes. A new watch? Of course. Lego? Hell yeah.
He just wants to spend time with you.
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Daniel Ricciardo
As soon as he saw your Christmas get-up he would be smiling. You got for the two of you matching Christmas sweatshirts.
He loved it.
This wouldn't be your first Christmas with Danny. But he would make it special each time.
This year, he planned on staying at his house, watch movies, play some games if you are up for it.
And you were.
Obviously.
It would be a Christmas Eve where your cheeks would start to hurt from all the smiling.
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Lando Norris
He would invite you to dinner in one of his favourite restaurants. It had been the same you went to have your first date, so it was a special place in your heart.
He would have a simple beautiful necklace for you with the letter L as a charm on it with a simple gorgeous diamond.
He would say High School Musical inspired him since Gabriella had a T for Troy.
How cheesy, you loved it.
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Oscar Piastri
It would be your first Christmas.
So, he would be nervous.
But you invited him over so, he would be EXTRA nervous.
You decorated your entire apartment and even cooked a nice simple meal.
He would praise your cooking as if you were a Michelin-star chef.
After dinner and presents, you two would watch The Grinch while cuddling on the couch with many snacks.
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Carlos Sainz
Carlos would ask you to spend Christmas with his family, and who were you to say no?
If you speak Spanish, be prepared to have long conversations.
If not, fear not, his family would have no issue with talking to you, constantly yelling at Carlos to translate.
It would be a very sweet Christmas. And a rather loud one as well.
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Charles Leclerc
He would try to impress you by any means.
You are not even surprised that his tree is all red... who could have guessed it?
Charles would buy so many gifts for you, that some wouldn't even fit under the tree.
Shoes, bags, jewellery and even a new phone.
He would ask for nothing in return.
But you would still give him gifts. Maybe not as expensive... okay definitely not as expensive.
He would hire a chef who would cook for you two.
After dinner, you wanted to watch Home Alone and he would shock you by saying he never saw it, so movie night it is.
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George Russel
You two came to the decision that this year, you would plan your Christmas Eve. You invited him over to your place, decorated your home and got him many gifts. 
Not like he didn't have everything, but you still did.
If you can and agree to cook, he would be happy to eat your meal, if not, he would have no problem with some takeout.
Who knew fast food could look fancy on a plate on a table lit by candles?
His gift to you would be something you might have mentioned at one point. He is the kind of boyfriend to remember and give you exactly what you wish for.
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Lewis Hamilton
Lewis would have the entire evening planned.
Of course, it would be at a fancy restaurant. It would be one of your favourites. You two agreed on no gifts because you two buy each other everything during the year anyway. So, a nice date will be enough.
And it really would be. 
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Yuki Tsunoda
He would cook for you. Yuki decided to put his entire soul on a plate for you. And it is magnificent.
He is a great cook, so you can expect an amazing dinner before you exchange presents. 
His present for you would be something super meaningful. Something you had your eyes on for months. 
After the presents, you two would be on his couch, cuddling, laughing and having a great time.
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Fernando Alonso
He would invite you over to his home, and cook some dinner for you himself.
It would be very special and romantic.
He would make you watch Spanish Christmas classics. 
Overall it would be a very romantic and cozy evening.
For a gift, he would give you something he knows you would love. He knows you very well, so he would give you exactly what you want without you having to mention it.
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Lance Stroll
Let's be fair he would ask for you to go to his family's house for Christmas.
As for your gift, he would buy you anything you name or don't.
To him, the more it cost, the better the item.
So, he would be shocked when your favourite would be a pair of earrings.
And you would have a great time with his family, but you did learn that his father likes to take Monopoly a little too seriously.
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kitasgloves · 11 months ago
Text
"Bound"
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tracklist
— ♬ "You realize how fine she is. She's just what you've been looking for"
— ♬ Ushijima x Reader, SFW, timeskip, fem reader, strangers to friends to lovers, no beta
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Usually, Ushijima Wakatoshi left no room for miscalculation. For a long time, he lived with logic and facts. He made no unnecessary actions and did what he thought was fit. He received comments calling him some robot, he understood where it came from but never understood if it was supposed to be a form of insult or harmless teasing. Nonetheless, he paid no attention to it. On the other hand, Ushijima received countless compliments regarding his looks and appreciated it to a certain extent. However, others had way more time in their hands to waste screaming deranged sentences about how they were 'down bad' or 'thirsting' over his physical physic. Ushijima doesn't want to elaborate further on how he felt about those sides of his fanbase.
The athlete had a stable support system from his father and friends, he's endlessly grateful for their support. Ushijima found himself contented with the people he surrounded himself with, he wasn't the kind to linger in crowds but rather the crowd tended to linger around him. After all, he was a famous athlete so he thought it was natural. People often approaching him for photos or autographs wasn't out of the norm but when you decided to approach him one evening, Ushijima was admittedly astonished.
"Hello"
You started with a mere hello. Ushijima peered to his left and saw you standing there with your glimmering dress and lipgloss shining under the chandelier lights. Tonight was an official gathering for Volleyball athletes, the program ended thirty-five minutes ago and everyone was free to scatter around and enjoy the evening. Fortunately, interviewers or the annoying paparazzi weren't allowed inside the venue.
"Hello"
Ushijima greeted back, he thought it was only polite. He didn't recognize you so you weren't an athlete, perhaps you were one of the staff, or maybe one of the organizers of the event.
"I'm [Surname] [Name]"
"Ushijima Wakatoshi"
"Oh, I know. Everybody knows the famous UshiWaka"
Then he learns your name and he instinctively replies with his. Of course, you knew him and he's used to people knowing who he was. Fame doesn't phase him. But what strikes him as perplexed is why you have decided to approach him.
"Would you like an autograph or a photo?"
"Oh, no thank you! I was wondering if you fancy chatting with me"
"Hm"
He hummed, he thought it was harmless. He finishes his champagne and waits for you to talk, but you only stare at him through your thick lashes and sweet smile. Were you waiting for him to speak first? Now, he has no problem with that but he has to admit that he doesn't do it often. Ushijima adjusts his bowtie and clears his throat.
"How are you finding this evening?"
"Great! I hope you enjoyed your time here"
"Everything is well"
You nodded but didn't reply after. Ushijima finds it odd that his mind is scrambling to keep the conversation alive knowing he could stop talking if he wishes to and wait for you to walk away. But somehow, he doesn't want you to leave. So, the athlete racks his clever mind for anything to say to make you stay longer.
"Do you like chocolates, [Surname]-san?"
"Yes, I do"
"What do you think about volleyball?"
"I think it's a fantastic sport"
He asks you innocent questions to get you to open up and surprisingly it keeps the conversation going. Later, you start spurring hilarious stories about your friends and he'll take note of every detail. You'd share about the music you listen to and he finds your music taste similar to his as he'd share his input about his favorite songs. You and he talked and talked until the venue slowly emptied. You found your cue to leave but Ushijima frowns at that, he insists on walking you out and calling a ride for you.
"You're incredibly sweet, Ushijima-san"
"You can call me Wakatoshi"
"Okay, Wakatoshi"
You winked and Ushijima felt his chest flutter. He opened the car door for you as you waved him goodbye. He wonders when will he see you again because he keeps thinking about you that evening until his head rests on his pillow. He had no idea where to contact you until he brought your name up to Kuroo Tetsuro and by his luck, you happened to be his co-worker. Ushijima had a hold on your number within seconds thanks to Kuroo.
"Hello? Who is this?"
"This is Wakatoshi"
Ushijima can hear you gasping and falling out of your chair dramatically. There were a few chaotic noises on the other line until he heard your voice again. His chest flutters like it did previously.
"Hi! Did you need something? How did you get my number?"
"I got it from Kuroo"
"That sly cat..."
"I was wondering if you're free to eat dinner with me tomorrow evening"
"You want to eat dinner with me...?"
"Yes"
"Oh, what an honor! Sure! I'll go"
Your answer makes the corner of Ushijima's lips quirk up, it was so unusual that even he was taken aback. He consulted with Tendou Satori afterward via phone call and told him everything, he asked if he did the right thing. His best friend only laughs.
"Just do whatever makes your heartbeat go faster, Wakatoshi-kun"
Ushijima didn't understand it at first but when he finally sees you that evening, his heartbeat spikes up. You were wearing one of those dresses that makes him gulp. When you wrap your hand around his arm and go inside the restaurant, Ushijima gets the similar feeling he gets when he's playing on the volleyball court. During dinner, he notices your finer qualities. And the magic of your rare personality.
When dinner is finished, Ushijima lends you his coat when the evening gets windy. You keep his coat until he takes you home. That evening you reached to the tip of your toes to peck him on the cheek before softly shutting your door. Ushijima stood in front of the door, rigid. His hand creeps up to his cheek where you have kissed him. Suddenly, his face feels warm and his chest palpitates wildly. If he hadn't known any better, he thinks he's going down with something.
But he knew what this was. He has read the shoujo mangas Tendou was recommending to him and watched the romcoms available on his television. Ushijima was falling in love. It seemed so foreign yet natural to experience it for the first time. He never prioritized romance during his high school days, having a girlfriend never crossed his mind. However, when you came into the picture, he thought he wouldn't mind having you as his girlfriend.
Ushijima takes his time to woo you, to see if you could return his feelings. He took you to meet his friends, he asked you to have dinner with his father, and he'd even gone far as to bring you to Paris with him to visit Tendou. On the trip back to the country, Ushijima knew he was head over heels for you. He asks what your sign is and he'll find you two are compatible. He realizes how fine you are. You were just what he was looking for.
Everything you did affected him greatly, you plagued his mind with your smile and scent, and he couldn't imagine another lifetime where he didn't meet you. So, as he asked you out on an aquarium date, he specified it was a date and not just one of your random hangouts, and you said yes, Ushijima felt so happy that he could do twenty sets of a volleyball match.
His cheeks ached from smiling as you pointed out every sea creature you saw and yelled out its name. His phone gallery was filled with pictures of you in every moment. When he admires the colorful jellyfish with you, he sucks in a breath and snakes a hand around your back. His heart skips a beat when you lean against him.
"Isn't this nice?"
"It is. I want to do this with you all the time"
"Me too, 'Toshi"
"[Name]?"
"Yeah?"
"I like you"
You turn your head to face him and giggle. Ushijima couldn't deny it, he was bound to falling in love. He was bound to fall in love with you.
"I like you too, 'Toshi"
"So, will you be my girlfriend?"
"Of course, ya goofball!"
When Ushijima looks at you it is visible in his eyes. He was beyond lovestruck with you. From the tenderness in his features and the brightness of his smile. His heart wouldn't have wanted it any other way.
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©kitasgloves (do not steal or copy)
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winterarmyy · 2 years ago
Text
Plot Twist | Part III*
An arranged marriage with mafia!bucky.
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Navigation: Part I | Part II | Part III* (end) | Extra
Words: 4.8k++ (of mostly filth)
Pairing: beefy mafia!bucky x female!reader
Warnings: 18+ content, no minors allowed, nsfw, cunnilingus, p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, lots and lots of praises, bucky's filthy mouth, tiny hint of wife!kink from bucky, soft!bucky being romantic, fluffy date, reader is quite a menace at the end, honestly.
A/N: This is the last chapter because I didn't really have a long plot for this specific fic. I wrote this fic entirely out of impulse.
P/S:  I have no idea what I just wrote for the smut scene; partially because english is not my first language and the rest is because I literally have no experience but I hope y'all enjoy it somehow!
Read my other works here: Masterlist
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"Don't hide those noises from me, doll. I want to hear you." Bucky licked a strip up across her gushing pussy before lewdly suckling on her sensitive clit.
 "Bucky." she whined so needily as if she hadn't just come on his tongue a few moments ago.
How did they even get here in the first place?
One minute Bucky was proposing to ditch the gala, that's when she decided to bring him to one of the most underrated diners in Brooklyn. 
Then somehow, there was Bucky, eating her out as if he was still starving. 
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"Oh my, Irene is that you?" The way the old lady gasped with excitement as she walked towards the couple; Bucky was assuming she was indeed talking to his wife.
Y/N grinned with a tiny scrunch on her nose, a goofy smile that Bucky never seen before. Entranced, he didn't even notice how his heartbeats quickens, let alone process the fact that Irene was not his wife's name.
"Long time no see, Maria." Y/N didn't hesitate to be engulfed by the warm and welcoming hug from Maria as if she was one of her grandchildren.
The tight squeeze loosen up after a while, followed by a compliment, "You look absolutely stunning, sweetheart." By the way she was looking up and down at Y/N, it seems like she doesn't want to move on from the topic.
But swiftly, a frown formed on her forehead when she realizes, "But why are you having a date at my old rackety diner?" Maria was quick to read the room.
Well, it's not that hard when you see a gorgeous, well-dressed couple walk in together. Him opening the door for her, the shy smile on her lips, any excuse to have his hands on her, glimmer in those eyes of hers.
Of course, it was a date.
"Now, why would I trade some fancy overprized steak with your absolute perfection of a burger? God don't get started on those crispy fries. I've been craving them for weeks!" Y/N could feel her mouth-watering from her own imagination.
"Oh, stop it! You're exaggerating!" Maria chuckles, lightly taping the side of Y/N's shoulder.
"I certainly am not!" Y/N exclaimed, almost animatedly.
The conversation in front of Bucky seemed to be silenced by his own racing thoughts.
Bucky was certain that these past few months being married to Y/N, he already knew her. All her patterns were memorized in the back of his head.
But this was different. It doesn't look like her; at least not the look that she always displayed around their mansion, nor any events they went to.
However, it feels so much like her at the same time.
If she still has other sides and expressions hidden from him, then wanted to see them all.
His hearing started to regain its ability when Y/N spoke, "This is my date, Sebastian. Babe, this is Maria, the owner of this diner." She introduces them.
Bucky leaned forward as he offered his hand, only to be pulled into the similar hug that his wife just received. Maybe he let his guard down, or maybe Maria was just stronger than him to be able to pull him in like that.
"I heard so much about you and this place. Thought nice to bring Irene to her favourite place for a date." Bucky was partially lying. He did promise her that she could choose anywhere she wanted to go to, but at the same time he had no idea this place existed before.
Maria had an approving smile on her face, as if he ticked off several of her checklist for choosing Y/N's boyfriend. She shot a look at Y/N, showing her approval which only made Y/N rolled her eyes.
When they settled in their booth and their orders taken, Bucky started to come up with the first topic, "So, Irene..." he purposely slowed his pace, as if he knew that Y/N would burst into laughter. A triumph smirk curved across his lips, knowing he managed to pull one of her rare laughs.
"...I just wanted to say that I, Sebastian, am honoured to be able to take you on a date this lovely evening." He managed to sound effortlessly posh while saying it, which makes Y/N laugh even more so.
"Oh god, stop, Bucky. It's just us. You don't need to act anymore." Her eyes briefly pointed to their surroundings. Indeed, there was just them and a group of teenagers all the way across the diner.
Bucky chuckled, "Well the way you act just now makes me think you me to stay in character."
"I didn't know that my wife had different identities. Wanna tell me about it?"
Y/N hesitated at first, she wonders if Bucky can accept what she had to say about this, but the anticipation and curiosity in his face seemed to look like he was sincere.
She took a deep breath before letting out a sigh and explained, "People like us can't just go out and about with our family names attached on our faces. We'd be sticking out like a sore thumb."
Bucky thought of what she said for a bit before he asked, "And you hate that? Having my name as part of your identity?" His brow quirked.
She exhaled deeply, "No, I didn't mean it like that, Bucky."
Her hesitation after only urged Bucky to silently demand for further explanation.
She admit defeat as she spoke, "Let's be real our lives are not ordinary. We weren't born in normal society like these people do." Y/N gaze roamed around the few people within the diner. There was this longing in her eyes.
"And I just want to feel what is it like to be one of them. To able to bond other people without greed or malice behind their intentions." There was only truth in her gaze, and Bucky saw that.
"I-- it's like an escape for me. A breath of fresh air if you will." She expressed.
"Like your books? Are they your escape too?" Bucky asked after thinking about how many hours she spent reading.
A fond smile curved on her lips, "Precisely."
He thought deeply before asking, "If you're constantly trying to escape, then what is it that you are trying to run from?" he riddled.
Y/N leaned back to her seat and think of the best way to put her feelings in simple words, "Nothing. I guess that I haven't find something that make me wanna stay in this reality."
"Yet" Bucky didn't mean to say it out loud. It was supposed to be his personal thoughts, but Y/N's eyes unexpectedly lit up, "Yet." She repeated his word, with a hopeful tone behind her natural voice.
The prolonged eye-contact broke when Maria came to serve their food. The conversation after that was nothing too deep, nothing too general. It was the type of conversation that left a light-hearted residue within their chest.
Hours passed and the music resonating from the jukebox seemed to shift into something slow, something more ballad-like. Bucky had an idea. He stood on his feet and walk out of their space while straightening his jacket.
Y/N was confused at first, "Are we leaving already?" was what she thought of before Bucky spoke, "A dance, my dear?"
She trailed the hand that was outreaching towards her, then up to his face. His smile was charming, and the crinkled lines on the side of his eyes were even more endearing.
Who'd knew those small things could become one her little weaknesses. She accepted his offer by grasping on his hand while he gracefully pulled her out of their booth towards the empty space between rows tables and the jukebox.
Bucky pulled her in, even closer than deemed necessary. She followed his lead; fingers laced lightly with each other's. His other hand rests right above her backside. And hers on one of his shoulders.
Though both of them didn't have a clue on how to dance but it didn't stop them to naturally fall into step and let the rhythm control their movements.
Everything else around them; the diner, the people, seemed to dissolve with time. It felt like there was just him and her, alone. Only the sounds of their heart beats and the music that remained.
People in the diner sat on their seats; watching the couple swayed along the melody of the song; couldn't help to admire the sight in front of them.
Even the bunch of teenagers on the other side was suddenly intrigued, some of them gawked and squealed at them, others didn't waste any time and started pull out their phone to record the moment.
Bucky leaned in as he whispered her name. She looked up in respond, with a smile spread across her beautiful face and eyes curved into upside down crescent moons.
A storm of uncontrollable emotions surged throughout Bucky's body, and his nerves tingled in delight. His brought his hand towards her face and brushed his thumb across her cheek.
His body was acting on its own as all the restrains he locked himself before vanished into thin air. Nothing was holding him back from this slice of paradise.
Her eyes glistened the moment Bucky's thumb pressed against her soft lips. "You're so beautiful, Y/N. Do you know that?" He whispered. His eyes searched her features as if he can't believe that his wife was real.
Her lips parted as a laugh escaped through her mouth; it seems to be that she doesn't believe him. Though the truth was clear, and yet somehow she couldn't see it.
"I'm serious, doll. You don't know how gorgeous you look right now." Her cheeks deepen in the colour of rose.
Bucky drew her close to his chest, so close he could feel the warmth of her body; while she wrapped her arms around his neck, tip toe-ing towards the side of his face. He could smell the delicate perfume on her.
Her lips went to his ear as she whispered ever so softly. "And you're such a flirt, do you know that?"
She returned to her original position, looking up with mischief gleaming in her eyes. Whatever spell did she just put on Bucky in that very moment, it certainly work wonders as all he can think about is how her lips feels against his own.
Bucky looked like as if he was in a daze, lips slightly parted, his gaze soften as they fixated on her maroon painted lips.
Y/N seemed to pick up on what's going to happen. Her hands trembled in anticipation; his scent was alluring, almost intoxicating that she might recall this moment whenever she smell this cologne again.
The moment seemed to prolonged but then it feels like the time stops entirely when Bucky pressed his lips on hers. The kiss was delicate, and soft, and passionate and real all at the same time.
Bucky pulled away momentarily only to pull her close again by the back her neck, tilting the heads in opposite direction as he licked her lips for permission in which she gladly comply.
Her hands gripping on the fabric of his shirt that's rested on his chest, holding on to him for her dear life as he stole her breath away.
Soft moans were slipping through the kiss as she felt the delicious burn of his stumble on her skin. Little did she know that, that might just be one of a trigger for Bucky to lose control.
He grunted in disapproval when she pulled away, wanting nothing more than to kiss her again and again and again until both of them forgot how to even breath.
But looking down at her trembling lips, the glaze across her eyes, her shaky breath; Bucky might just turn feral right there and then.
"Bucky..."
Bucky swore that she was whining his name.
"...Take me home."
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Which then leads to this very moment where Bucky grabbed her by the waist, pushing her cunt further on his tongue before wrapping his arms around her thighs.
He wants to make sure she's strapped in for another wave that's about to crush her.
He flicked his tongue in an up and down motion, gliding through sensitive bundle of nerves. As if he knew what she like. No, he knows exactly what makes her squirm.
It took him a few orgasms on his tongue to know that she loves those small circles over her clit, those flat licks when he spread her pussy apart, how she much prefer to have her clit played rather than her hole fucked by his fingers, all of the little notes were already buried in Bucky's head.
And oh how divine does she look when she came for him. Bucky couldn't take his eyes off her; he was already addicted her taste, the shudders of her thighs on the sides of his face, and her pretty voice moaning his name.
Why hasn't he done this earlier?  
"It's been too long, doll. Should've claimed this gorgeous pussy long ago. Shit." He growled his desire before diving back to her leaking heat.
Wet vulgar sounds echoes within the enclosed space of their bedroom as he devoured her whole. His changing speed really was too much for her to handle, and him gripping onto her thighs was the right choice.
Especially, when she started to squirm upwards, "Oh god Bucky,," moaning as she threw her head back to the soft pillow under her head.
Smirking proud against her parted lips, he pulled her back where she was before, pinning her hips against the bed. He sucks her aching bud into his hot, wet mouth so ferociously she can only gasp to the immense pleasure.
Oh, does it feel good having his mouth wrapping around her pussy like this, while the tip of his dangerous tongue flicking mercilessly on her swollen bundle of nerves.
So good to the point she was seeing stars. Literal stars at the back of her head as her high was reaching for euphoria. The aching pleasure caused her toes to curl and thighs burning, shaking as she cried out his name.
But, he wasn't satisfied yet, insatiably greedy for more, "So sweet, baby. Come on give it to me." He growled against her.
He continued to abuse that cunt over and over as the shameless wailing and chanting of how bad she wanted to come, filling up not just the room but also his pride.
Bucky wants to make her feel each stroke and glide of his wicked, delicious tongue. Feeling the electrifying pleasure surging within her core, her thighs involuntarily started closing around his head.
He can barely breathe from how much she was suffocating him, but he certainly refused to stop.
Not until he ruined that needy cunt of hers.
Over and over, he sucks and pulls while his tongue danced through her until her sanity was close to breaking, body trembling in his hold.
The wet squelches, the lapping of his tongue, her sexy moans. He drowned himself to every single one of them.
"Fuck! Bucky, I'm coming. Please, please please don't stop!" She begged for his mercy even if he never asked for it.
Her moan was getting needier than ever, while her hips jerked upwards to meet his tongue. Her fingers gripping on his soft hair, guiding his through the sweet torturous pace.
Fortunately, she wasn't the only one who was close to an explosive high. Bucky's cock, hard and pulsing, twitched against the constraint of his boxer. Even without any simulation from any kind of touch, his cock was more than overjoyed to come along with her.
And it was all because of her.
From the way she was shamelessly humping against his mouth, using him to get herself off. Gripping and pulling his hair, so she could ride his tongue faster.
Bucky hummed against her clit, before chuckling, "You're already such a good girl, doll. So perfect. You taste..." his tongue licked through her folds, grazing on the throbbing clit. "...Perfect."
A whisper of his name escaped as she gasped into a back arching shudder, head thrown back, eyes rolling, unable to focus on anything other than the pleasure of his tongue.
"Do it." he growled out. "Come for me, baby. Make a mess on my tongue."
That command was all it supposed to take, for her to finally let go but feeling his tongue flicking against her clit was what ripped the orgasm right from her begging pussy.
A loud scream of curses of his name was the only thing she can utter once the orgasm washed over. She let the pleasure unravel from within to every part of her shivering body, until she was left limping on the bed.
"Gorgeous..." he grunted with a horny tone, tongue sliding in between her wet slit, making sure every lick managed to collect the sweet nectar she had bestowed him.
Finally pulling away from between her legs, the lower half of Bucky's face was drenched; his lips glistened with the mixture of spit and slick, dripping down along the chin, down to his neck.
His eyes closed in an euphoric high, tongue licking her cum off his lips before forming a devilish smirk on his face. He looked as happy as a man can be with that smug smile of his.
Bucky smirked at her broken moan, "...so pretty coming for me." he praised ever so endearingly.
He climbed over as he continued to praise what a good girl she was, how well she did, how addictive she tastes, and how he would gladly eat her out for the rest of his life.
Bucky's mouth watered and his cock twitched at the beautiful, yet filthy sight of his wife splayed on their bed; her breasts moved every so gracefully despite her heavy breaths, legs spread apart as he kneeled in between.
Looking down at her mess, he might just want to be greedy and devour her once again, but his cock was much more needy than his anticipated. Right now, he wants nothing more than to feel her tightness around him.
Bucky levelled his face over hers, "Open up, honey." he husked. Still in a slight daze, Y/N blindly followed his temptation, only to feel his lips on her, his tongue settled within her heated cavern.
Every wave and movement of his tongue on hers were purposely slow and gentle. She can feel herself melted into the kiss, even more hypnotized into a dreamy haze.
Bucky pulled away with a rumbling hum, "Taste good doesn't it?" He prompted as he stroked the strand of her hair behind her ear. Y/N can only nod with an approving moan as she relished the gentle caresses on her cheek.
"That's all you, babydoll. Addictive isn't it? So, when I ask for this pussy, you will give it to me. Every single time. Do you understand?" Bucky tighten his gripped on her chin, forcing her to look into his eyes.
Her eyes gleamed in ecstasy, "Yes, Bucky." she let out a breathy tone, not trusting that she can keep her moans in if she speaks any louder.
Bucky smiled fondly, "That's my girl." he proclaimed.
"Now, how about making a mess on my cock, hmm? That sounds good to you, angel?" Honestly, it was Bucky who wanted to make a mess in her pussy, but she didn't need to know that for now.
"Yes, please." Y/N answered that way too quick, but she didn't care. The other reason why she was constantly leaking apart from Bucky's skilful tongue, was because she wanted to feel his cock stretching her apart.
Bucky chuckled to her neediness while his hand worked its way to remove his boxers. His cock sprung up to his stomach, with precum spilling from the tip. God he was so wet for her.
"...Hmmm, my sweet little wife had been so so good for me, isn't that right?" He cooed as he pulled her hips to him and lined his cock with her slick entrance that was just aching to be filled.
"Yes, Bucky" She breathed his name, as she looked up to him with full blown lusty eyes. The anticipation for him to plunge inside her needy hole were immaculate. But Bucky loved to edge a little.
"So good to me." Bucky stroked his heavy cock in between her slippery folds; the tip gliding so easily against her clit before proceeding to insert his throbbing length into her, groaning out a pleasurable 'ahhh' when he felt his cock wrapped around her tight, twitching walls, "F-fuck" He nearly whimpered, closing his eyes as he refused to come right when he just entered her tightness.
She gasped in pure ecstasy, feeling his cock in her core.
Bucky stilled as he fully filled her to the brim, letting her adjust to size as he peppered gentle kisses on her face, down to her neck and breasts.
The trembling in her cunt didn't drop its pulse, instead he swore it just increases, "Ease up, baby.. " his mouth wrapped around her nipple, "..or I might come before the fun begins." He mumbled against her breast before giving a harsh suck on her nipple.
That might just multiply the pressure around his cock though.
Even if Y/N knew she might come just by him adjusting the pace, but she didn't care, she craves the friction inside of her, "Buck-- Move please."
She didn't need to tell him twice, Bucky complied quite instantly.
"Oh, fuck!" She whimpered as his cock glide in and out of her at a sluggish pace.
"Fuck you feel damn good, baby," he rasps under his breath, his eyes drinking in every little expression she make. The little nose scrunch, her brows furrow together when he hit the spot deep within her, the way her swollen lips parted only to let out those sinful moans of his name.
"Never stop giving this pussy to me. God, I need this pussy y'hear me? I need it so bad." Bucky was well aware how addicted he was already. And he had no shame on that.
It didn't take him too long to increase the speed which led to him railing her into the bed as her muffled screams filled the room. Y/N sobbed softly to the overstimulating pleasure that started filling her body with Bucky's harsh thrusts. "So good, so fucking good!"
"Mhmm! Too much, I can't" She whimpered. She could feel how Bucky was tearing her apart, spreading her cunt as his cock lunged inside her tight walls, deliciously.
Bucky looks down to where his cock was fucking into her cunt and he shamelessly moaned, loud, deep from within his chest.
He wished she could see the vision in front of him; how her pussy displayed and wide open for his cock as he plunged in and out of her hard.
Gritting his teeth, he fucked her harder, more desperate than before, his fingers digging into her hip.  
Y/N was whimpering mad, eyes rolled back mouth wide open, drooling to every thrust Bucky pushed into her. By that point she just had lost every sanity she had in her mind and just wanted Bucky to really fuck the life out of her.
It felt so good.
Too good.
Bucky’s brows knitted into a frown, and his mouth falls open. The deep grunts he was groaning turn into frantic higher pitched moans. His eyes shut, and his head falls back in pleasure.
Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck for support as her body racked in pleasure from his deep, hard, merciless thrusts. Her body jerked back and forth with his movement.
Their skin on each other; chest touching, the intertwining sound of sinful moans and lewd, wet squelching sound, the whispers of praises uttered for one another, lingered their mind as it gave physical effect to their body.
"A little more baby, please, please— fuckin' take my cock." When was the last time he felt this good? Perhaps never because he couldn't believe how close he was to coming already.
"It feels so good, Bucky."
"Yeah? hmmm, you're handling it so well, honey."
"Yes, yes, yes, -ahh shit, so deep inside me, fuck."
"...Can't believe this pretty little thing is mine."
Those were one of the many, many whispers they had said to each other. They were dirty yet it so sincerely intimate.
Not able to control himself any longer Bucky began thrusting faster than the original pace he had set before, causing her body to thrash around.
She gripped on the bedsheets behind her as he was grunting mad over the way his cock slipped so easily in and out of her tight pussy. The way she bucked her hips to match Bucky's pace, to have more friction between the two.
Oh, it was nastily enticing.
Everything about this moment was passionate and overpowering; to the point where their minds were getting fuzzy.
It's amazing how his body conquered hers like no one had before. Somehow, he knew where all her sweet spots were and how her body would react to them, but he would still be eager to found new ones to tease her right after.
Y/N's body jerked up in pleasure as his cock repeatedly hit her spot. It felt so good, her body to started shake and spasm. Tears were threatening to spill from her eyes as the pleasure racked her body with such force she had never felt or known before.
And Bucky was the only one to ever see her like this and he would like to keep it that way.
"Mhmm, can't wait to come in this pretty pussy of yours babydoll. Fuck-- I'm already leaking inside you, baby. You're going to be so full and messy. Don't you want that, angel?" he teased as he thrusted in and out of her, groaning.
His thumb manage to find its way to play with her sensitive clit, not wanting to neglect that poor needy thing.
Feeling electrified from both his drilling cock and the way he was skilfully rubbing her clit, she squirmed and whined out unintelligible words, somewhere in between moaning his name and something about dying.
Bucky chuckled an amused laugh, somehow he managed to understand her words perfectly.
He removed his other unoccupied hand from her hip, and went to grab her both of her hands, placing them above her head. Restraining her wrists as he continued to fuck her hole; deeply, deliciously.
His body hovered over hers and their pupils dilated as their hot breath danced upon each other's skin. His erotic slid in and out of her cunt with such ease and his strong hands held a hard grip onto her contained wrists as he felt his orgasm arriving.
She felt the same familiar knot in her stomach just aching to be released." oh -oh god, Bucky. I'm gonna come!" she cried out.
"That's right, fucking cum for me!" he groaned out as he pressed his finger a little rough on her throbbing clit.
She shivered and gasped as she could feel her excitement gush out of her pussy as Bucky continued to fuck her through her high. Obscene wet noises coming from between her thighs.
And oh how Bucky relished the feeling of her walls clenching and twitching uncontrollably around his cock, licking his lip as he watched her wet juices spurting out of her pussy, drenching him more than be it was before.
"Feels fucking amazing to be inside you when you come like this, doll. So wet and tight for me..." he praised, getting replies of 'thank you's from her; she sounded delirious but that only ignites the feral in Bucky.
"...F-fuck I'm coming." His cock twitches violently. "Coming inside you, my pretty little wife. Fuckk--" His body jolted, eyes opening for just a second before they rolled shut as his hips snapped forward.
He came with a loud cry of her name, hips stilling as ropes of hot and slick cum shot out of his cock. His hot seed spread over her walls, filling her nice and full, sending shudders down her back.
Y/N can feel how he throbbed inside as each pulse of the delicious sensation came along with the ropes of cum that shoots from his cock.
He sighed as he thrusted his cock with a few more slow and lazy thrusts, letting her twitching walls milks the rest of his cum.
Bucky, soon slowly pulled out of her; she hissed as felt his cum dripping out, down to her asshole. It's a shame that he pulled out quite early than she expected; Y/N wished he could stay inside a little while longer.
He leaned down to spread multiple of soft kisses all over her face. Praising every little thing about her. Bucky thought of giving her the softest after-care she well-deserved after such a long night.
But when she looked up at him with those pair of lust-blown eyes, he never thought those words would've come out from her mouth, "Want more, please Bucky?" her tiny hand managed to grasp on his semi-hard cock, before rubbing his tip on her cum-filled hole.
Bucky never been that hard within that short amount of time. He grunted in pleasure when she pushed herself on his cock.
He let out a breathy chuckle as he cock reached the deepest part of her, "What a plot twist you are, doll."
End.
<< Part II || Extra >>
Read my other works here: Masterlist
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A/N: Even if this is the last chapter, I’d still love to hear from you!  🤍
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candycandy00 · 9 months ago
Note
This is my first time really interacting on here, but I really love you work so I just had to request something.💜💜
Character: Nanami
AU Setting: Masquerade ball
Spice Level: NSFW
Mood: Your choice
Kinks: Degradation and size difference
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The Stranger at the Bar - A Nanami x Reader Fanfic
Smut. 18+. Fem Reader. Non Curse AU. Degradation. Dirty talk. Size difference. 
Part of CandyCandy’s 2k Followers Event! Any feedback at all is adored! Dividers by @benkeibear.
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 The stranger at the open bar is looking at you again. He’s totally your type, with his slicked back blonde hair and impeccably tailored black suit. He’s tall, muscular but not too bulky, and he stands there holding a drink in his large hand as his eyes slide over to you again. He’s wearing a black silk mask that covers the top half of his face, the sort most of the men are wearing at this swanky masquerade ball for bored rich assholes. 
You’re just here for the free drinks and food. Your uncle’s tech start up recently hit it big, so he got an invite to this party two weeks ago. “New Money”, they probably called him. But of course his perpetually single ass didn’t have a date, so he invited you to be his plus one. He even bought you a fancy cocktail dress, in shimmery fuchsia with a low neckline and high split up to the hip. You topped it off with a matching lace mask. 
When the two of you walked in, your uncle patted your back and jokingly told you to “go nab yourself a rich guy”. You smiled and grabbed a glass of champagne from a tray being carried by a server. 
That was over an hour ago, and you’ve barely seen your uncle since then. You spotted him a couple of times, chatting with other tech business bigwigs, but otherwise you’ve been on your own. You don’t mind. The food is fabulous and the drinks are plentiful. 
Then there’s the handsome stranger who keeps looking your way. You can see his eyes through the holes in his mask, can watch them travel up and down your body as you move across the room. There’s a dance floor where some of the early 20’s folks are dancing, so you head over and put on a little show. You may not be used to fancy places like this, but you go to clubs with your friends every weekend, so you know how to shake your ass to some music.
It worked. The stranger’s full attention is on you, his eyes practically glued to your every move. You wish he would just come over and dance with you, but you suppose he’s too mature for that. He gives off a totally different vibe from the young guys who hang around you at the club. 
Feeling emboldened by his hungry gaze, you work your way over to the bar and stand a few feet away from him, tantalizingly close yet just out of reach. You fan yourself as if you’re hot after dancing, hoping your perfume drifts over to him. 
Within seconds, he moves closer to you, leaning back against the bar casually as he asks, “Who did you come with?”
Are you that obviously out of place? You smile at him. “Who says someone didn’t come with me?” you say teasingly, sipping your fruity drink. 
“Just a hunch,” he replies, glancing at you sideways. 
You point to your uncle across the room. He’s laughing a little too loudly, being just a tad too clingy to the bear-like man standing next to him. You hope they’re hitting it off. “My uncle didn’t have a date, so I tagged along.”
The stranger smiles faintly. Was that his way of finding out if you’re single? His eyes roam blatantly up and down you again. You hope he’s enjoying the closer look. You certainly are. He’s tall enough to tower over you, and his warm, honey-colored eyes draw you in. He’s the kind of man you want on top of you at the nearest opportunity. 
“Are you enjoying the party?” he asks, moving even closer to you. He smells expensive. 
“The drinks and the food? Yeah. Not sure about the people yet,” you say with a grin. 
“Oh? This isn’t your usual crowd?”
You turn your whole body to face him. “Not really. I don’t usually hang around snobby rich jerks. But maybe a few of them are alright.” You say the last part playfully, looking him up and down the way he did you. 
His eyes flick down to your chest, as if tracing the dipping neckline, then return to your face. “Perhaps we could talk in one of the private rooms, and you can find out if I’m ‘alright’.” 
You feel your heartbeat getting faster as your excitement builds, but you maintain your breezy attitude. “Private rooms? Are we allowed to go in those? The owner of this house might not like that.”
The person throwing this lavish party is also the owner of this ridiculously huge mansion. Your uncle mentioned their name but it didn’t seem important at the time. 
The stranger smiles again. “I’m sure he won’t mind.”
He holds out his hand, and you take it, trying to keep your breathing steady as he escorts you through the room. He keeps pace with you, probably walking more slowly than he’d prefer, and moves in such a way that it seems like he’s clearing the path for you. Such a gentleman! You really hope he’ll be fucking you like a whore soon. 
As the two of you step into a hallway, you notice the marble floors and the walls lined with paintings. “Look at this,” you say. “Who actually needs all this? It’s obnoxious.”
The stranger chuckles. “You really think so?”
You stop to look at a Chinese vase. It probably cost more than your apartment and your car combined. “All this stuff is beautiful, but I heard the owner lives here alone. He has to get lonely in this giant house, right?”
The stranger regards you for a moment, then says, “He probably does. Maybe he even throws these parties just to have some company.”
You think about his answer. “If that’s the case, I feel bad for him.”
The stranger says no more on the topic, instead leading you into what appears to be some sort of dressing room with an enormous walk-in closet. It’s exactly the kind of room you imagine a stupidly rich guy would get dressed in. There are multiple full length mirrors, high quality lighting, and a display case showing off dozens of expensive looking watches. 
You turn to look at the stranger as he closes the door behind him. He holds out his large yet elegant hand to you again, and when you take it, he suddenly pulls you close, right up against his body. Oh god, he’s so firm and strong! He leans his face down and kisses your lips, both of you still wearing your masquerade masks. His hands slide across your back, one of them moving down to squeeze your ass. 
He pulls away and looks at you, his dark eyes peering into yours. “What would you like me to do?” he asks, his voice low. 
You lean in closer to him, pressing yourself to his warm, sturdy form, and whisper, “I want you to wreck me.”
He puts both hands on your shoulders and, not too hard but not too gently, pushes you down to your knees in front of him. He unbuttons his sleek black pants as he says, “Let’s put that annoying little mouth to good use.”
Oh fuck. How does he know exactly what you’re into? Maybe you give off a vibe. You watch with anticipation, licking your lips, as he pulls out his beautiful, massive cock. Is everything about this man as sexy as possible? From the color to the shape to the thick, delectable meatiness, his cock is gorgeous. 
You don’t waste any time. You lean forward and run your tongue over it, spreading your saliva around, before wrapping your lips around it. You take him so deep, it feels like he’s halfway down your throat, and you love the fact that there’s going to be a hot pink lipstick stain around the base of his cock. 
His hand is in your hair, grip firm but not harsh. “You’re practically swallowing me,” he says. “You must’ve been hungry for cock all night. Is that why you put on that lewd little show for me on the dance floor? So you could end up on your knees for me?”
You look up at his face, your mouth still stuffed full, and mumble a whiny “mmhmm” around his cock. You can see his eyes widen slightly behind the mask, feel his fingers flexing within your strands. You move your head back and forth, fucking him with your throat, fighting back gags, your tongue swirling around him the whole time. 
And when he reaches his limit, he pulls your head back and says, “Open wide.”
You’re happy to obey, sticking your tongue halfway out of your mouth to give him a proper place to aim. When his warm cum hits your tongue and lips, you slowly swirl it around your mouth, giving him time to see it pooled inside before swallowing it. 
He loosens his tie and then lowers himself to his knees in front of you before unbuttoning his shirt, leaving both it and his jacket on but open. You can see his toned torso, can feel how damp your panties have become. He slides the straps of your dress down, revealing your breasts, and then leans down to take one hard nipple into his mouth. You moan as you dig your fingers into the fabric of his jacket. 
The stranger eases you onto your back on the floor, then pushes your shimmering dress up to your waist. It’s the most expensive dress you’ve ever worn, and right now you don’t give a shit it gets dirty. He slides down your lace panties and opens your legs, looking down at your wetness with a somewhat self satisfied smile. 
“So wet for me,” he says as his fingers probe your depths. “Such a little slut, getting soaked for a man who’s face you haven’t even seen.”
Ahhh, fuck, his voice turns you on so much! His fingers rubbing circles into your clit are driving you wild. You want him, no you need him inside you! 
“Please,” you whine, tugging him closer. 
He withdraws his hand and lifts your hips off the floor, pulling your lower half into his lap, his thick cock resting against your needy pussy. “Do you want my cock?”
“Yes, please!” you cry, wiggling in his lap, desperate for some friction. 
He has mercy on you, positioning himself at your entrance and then plunging inside. You gasp in pleasure, arching your back as he begins thrusting into you. 
“So tight,” he groans, gripping your thighs. “You’re clenching me so hard… so desperate… Fuck, you’re the cheapest whore I’ve ever had! You probably would’ve paid me for this cock!”
“Ahhh! Yes, I’m a whore for you! Please fuck me harder!” you scream, feeling your climax approach as he repeatedly hits your g-spot. When he slams into you one more time, you feel the pleasure wash over you as you cum, moaning and trembling. 
He gives a few more pumps, then completely buries himself inside you as he cums, filling you up so well. 
You both pant as he pulls out and stands up, buttoning his clothes. He then extends his hand to you again and helps you to your feet. While you straighten your dress and pull your straps back up, he looks at you somewhat sheepishly and says, “I hope I didn’t go too far with my words.”
You blink in surprise, then laugh. “Oh, don’t worry about it! I was into it.”
He smiles. “I thought so. I’m glad.”
You open your mouth to respond, but there’s a sudden knock on the door. The stranger walks over and opens it. A man in a server’s uniform is standing in the doorway, looking frazzled. 
“There you are, sir! We’ve been looking all over for you!” the server says breathlessly. 
“Oh? And what do you need?” 
“We’ve run out of champagne! Your guests are getting irritated!”
The stranger pats the server’s back. “Send Ryusuke to buy more immediately. Everything will be fine, I’ll go talk to the guests.”
The server seems to relax. “Thanks, Nanami-san.”
You watch the scene, trying to keep your jaw from dropping. Now you remember the name of the host, the man who owns this huge mansion that you’ve been shit talking all night. 
Nanami turns to look at you over his shoulder, a sly grin on his face. “Will you be accompanying me back to the ballroom?”
You smile back at him. “Of course. I might get lost in this stupidly huge house otherwise.”
He takes your hand. “Perhaps if you started visiting on a regular basis, you could learn your way around.”
You walk out the door with him. “That would probably work, Nanami-san.”
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pulisicsgirl · 1 year ago
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gonna be the death of me - mason mount
summary: as his publicist, Y/N is willing to do whatever Mason needs to make him comfortable at his latest sponsored photoshoot
pairing: Mason Mount x publicist!reader
word count: 2.4k
warnings/tags: no established relationship, suggestive language, sexual tension(??), they're both down so badly for each other it's insane
requested: no
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notes: surprise!!! I think I speak for all of us when I say we were caught completely off-guard by Mason's new Nike ad... 🫣 But anyway, I was inspired by it to write out a blurb or two, but this one just kept going and it turned into a full-length fic 🤭 So... enjoy?? Also, I couldn't pick only one picture for this fic so please enjoy both of these
As a publicist, there was nothing unusual about you attending an event with one of your clients. Especially when it was for a sponsored ad that you’d had a large part in organizing. But something about this one felt different—a nervous, fluttery feeling in your chest as you walked in the front doors.
Maybe it was the fact that it was Mason, a client of yours that you maybe fancied just a teeny tiny little bit, no matter how hard you tried to convince others that it wasn’t the case.
Or maybe it was the fact that the partnership you had organized for him involved him modeling in nothing but his underwear.
Yeah, it was probably that.
In an effort to remain professional, you had done everything in your power to remain cool and collected that day. You had waited for Mason to arrive, meeting him at the doors before the two of you strolled into the building to determine what needed to be done and where he needed to go.
If Mason was honest with himself, he felt like he was a bit out of his depth with this photoshoot. He had never even been someone to parade himself around topless, let alone in only some tight-fitting underwear.
He had agreed to the shoot months ago, when things hadn’t been going so well for him. He had been struggling with his transfer to a new team and thought that maybe trying something new was just what he needed to snap him out of it. Unfortunately, it had taken quite some time to iron out the details, and now Mason’s nerves were getting the best of him.
So when one of the staff involved in the Nike shoot had approached him, a bottle of body oil in her hands, his stomach sunk to his feet. He only half listened as she explained that it would make the shots look more appealing.
“We understand that this can be a bit uncomfortable, so if you’d like to have someone from your team that you’re more familiar with help you apply it, that would be completely fine. If not, one of the stylists can assist you.” She gestured toward the team of people who had put a few light touches of makeup on his face just about 20 minutes ago.
The Nike team had been nothing but wonderful and accommodating with Mason the entire day, and he really appreciated the effort they had put into making him feel comfortable. He was momentarily relived by the alternative he had been offered, but the relief was short-lived when he realized that the only person on his “team” was you.
The staff member guided him to a cozy dressing room just off the hallway from the main area and explained that he could change and leave his things in this room until the photoshoot was over. There were a few sets of the underwear that he would be modeling laid out for him and a robe hanging to the left of the door.
Mason changed and spent the entire time trying to convince himself to just have one of the Nike staff help him. He didn’t want to make things weird. Part of him did want you to rub your hands all over his body, but he didn’t want the first time you did it to be for something like this.
No matter how much Mason tried to muster up the courage, he just couldn’t shake the way that the idea of a complete stranger oiling him up just compounded the nerves he was feeling, to the point that it made him feel sort of sick.
So minutes later, he was approaching you, body covered by the robe that they had provided for him. You noticed, as he shuffled in your direction, that he was fiddling with his fingers, a nervous habit of his. That, combined with the sheepish look he gave you as he stopped at your side, confirmed that he was feeling a bit anxious.
“Hey, Mase. You doing okay?”
Mason had to ignore the way his heart fluttered at both the nickname and the expression of concern on your face.
“Um, yeah, I-“ he started, stumbling over his words a bit. “If I’m honest, I’m pissing myself at the moment.”
Your eyebrows drew together in sympathy, knowing how difficult it must be to be paraded around like this.
“You’re going to do amazing, okay?” you smiled at him, and he only nodded in response. As he shifted back and forth on his feet, you knew there was something else on his mind.
“Um, could you… could you actually do something for me?”
“Anything, Mase. What do you need?”
Having worked with numerous high-profile clients, you learned that when a client asked for something, the answer was always “yes” and if it was something you couldn’t do… well you needed to figure out how to do it anyway. But Mason had never been one to give you much trouble. He had always been extremely kind and considerate of you.
“This is, um… well it’s a bit strange, and if you want to say no that’s completely fine, but,” he paused, taking a brief glance up at your face before he spoke quickly so he didn’t chicken out. “They gave me this oil I need to put over my chest and back and everything and they said I could have someone from my team apply it so it would be someone I’m comfortable with.”
He took another short pause as he tried to gauge your reaction. Your heart skipped a beat as you realized what he was saying. He must have noticed the slight falter in your expression.
His team… you’re his entire team today. He means you.
“If you don’t want to, it’s completely okay. I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t—”
“Mason, it’s okay,” you rested your hand on his shoulder to reassure him. “I’ll take care of it. Don’t worry.”
“Are you sure?” he asked, still feeling a bit hesitant. “I would really appreciate it. I’m just… I’m feeling a bit nervous about the whole thing, and I’m not overly fond of the idea of a stranger putting their hands all over my body.”
But you are fond of the idea of me putting my hands all over your body?
You mentally slapped yourself, trying to rid your mind of the filthy thoughts that were running through it.
“Don’t worry about it, Mason,” you smiled at him reassuringly, masking the way that your heart felt like it was going to leap out of your throat. “That’s what I’m here for, right?”
That was absolutely not what you were there for.
So that was how you found yourself following Mason into the dressing room that Nike had set up for him.
You couldn’t help the little flutter in your heart as you noticed that, rather than leaving them on the floor, he had neatly folded his clothes in a pile and placed them on a table in the corner of the room. You weren’t sure why that small detail affected you the way that it did.
Mason untied the belt of the robe, slipping it from his shoulders and tossing it over the back of the chair. You cast your eyes to the floor, suddenly feeling flustered at the sight of his nearly naked body, covered by only a tight-fitting pair of boxer briefs that left very little to the imagination.
It blew your mind that anyone who looked like he did could be feeling nervous or insecure about showing himself off. But Mason was merely human, after all, like anyone else.
You did your best to be as calm and causal about the situation as you possibly could. Mason approached the large vanity in the room, pointing you to the bottle of oil he had been instructed to apply to his body sitting on the counter in front of the mirror. You unscrewed the cap, placing a bit in your hand and telling Mason that you would start with his back.
You figured starting there would give you a moment to collect yourself before you had to look at him, face-to-face.
You rubbed the small amount of oil between your palms to warm it before placing them flat over Mason’s back and the touch of his skin on yours felt like an electric shock. You didn’t miss the way that the muscles in his back tensed slightly when you first touched him.
You spread the oil over the soft skin, from his shoulders, down to his waist. As you rubbed it into his lower back, you couldn’t help but admire how the underwear he was modeling hugged his bum.
No! Stop! Get it together, Y/N!
You tried to force yourself to think of anything else—anything other than Mason and his bum and the fact that you were oiling up his naked back.
You began analyzing the kind of oil they were using for the shoot (you had to come up with something, right?). It was sort of light and didn’t make his skin look greasy, like a swimsuit model or anything. It more so had the appearance like he had done a light workout and worked up a thin layer of sweat.
I can think of a few activities we could do to work up a sweat…
You shook your head, trying to snap yourself out of whatever this effect was that Mason was having on you.
Deciding that his back was finished, you stepped around to Mason’s front, pouring a bit more of the oil into your palms and running your hands over his arms.
Then, the only bit left to do was the bit that you didn’t know if you would survive… his chest and stomach.
You discreetly tried to take a deep breath, biting the inside of your cheek as you started at the top of his shoulders, brushing your hands over his collarbones before your hands drifted lower. You felt the heat rushing into your cheeks.
Mason prayed silently that you couldn’t feel the way his heart was hammering in his chest as your palms smoothed over his skin. He felt like every inch of him was on fire as you touched him in a way that was more intimate than you ever had before.
But as he tried to focus on anything other than how much you were putting him on edge, Mason glanced down to your face and realized he wasn’t alone in how he felt.
He watched as your cheeks burned bright red and you refused to look even remotely close to his face. He felt suddenly a bit lighter at the realization that you were just as tense as he was.
“I thought I was supposed to be the one that was nervous here,” he mumbled quietly, attempting to break the tension in the room.
He could tell you were fighting the grin that took over your face almost immediately. “Oh shut up, you,” you tried to keep up appearances, but it fell flat and Mason could read you easily. You both giggled softly.
You finished up the last bit of his torso, smoothing your hands down his sides, over his Champions League tattoo that you tried to admire without him noticing, and across his tummy. You noted the tiny mole on the upper part of his stomach, swiping a finger over it as you brushed the last bit of oil onto him.
You took one step back from him. “Alright, I think that should do it,” you spoke as you tried to wipe at an itch on your face with the back of your hand.
Mason noticed a shining spot of oil that you left behind. He stepped forward, nearly closing the gap between you as he lifted a hand, wiping it off of the tip of your nose with his thumb.
You gazed up at his face, unable to get away with just gluing your eyes to his torso the way you had been before. The look in his eyes was unreadable as he dropped his hand from your mouth to your jaw, just slightly pulling your lower lip down with his thumb, watching your reaction closely.
The tension between the two of you could’ve been cut by a knife. You felt as though you had stopped breathing as the you stood there, neither daring to make a single sound. Your eyes darted around his face, taking in all of the features you had never noticed before. His hand continued caressing your jaw as you held your hands cautiously on either side of him, afraid to make more of a mess with your oil-covered hands.
Abrupt knocking on the door of the dressing room caused you both to jump, snapping out of the sort of trance you had been in.
“We’re ready for you in 5!” a voice shouted from the other side of the door.
Both of you took a step back from each other, suddenly aware of how close you had been standing. Mason cleared his throat and scratched the back of his neck as he tried to gather himself.
“Will you be alright?” you asked, remembering how nervous he had been feeling just a few minutes ago.
“Y-Yeah, I-“ he hesitated for a moment. “Yeah,” he repeated, this time a little more certain.
Seeing how flustered you had been at seeing him the moment he had taken off the robe and how you had blushed at your fingers touched his skin had been the confidence boost he needed to be a little more sure of himself. Seeing the way that you had reacted to him made him feel ready to go out and do the photoshoot.
You watched a soft smile pass over his face, and you wondered what could possibly be going on in that gorgeous head of his.
“Alright,” you giggled at his expression, now seeming much lighter than he had before. “I guess you should head on out. I’ll clean up here and then I’ll be right there.”
Mason nodded, slipping the robe back over his shoulders before he turned to walk out of the room.
With the sudden boost of confidence, he spun on his heel, dipping his head to place a quick kiss on your cheek, and then he was out the door before you had the chance to react.
Your eyes went wide as you took a moment to process everything that had just happened. When you turned to the vanity to begin tidying up, you caught sight of your beet red cheeks. You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath as the biggest grin took over your face.
This boy was certainly going to be the death of you…
tag list:@landoslover @thoseboysinblue @lovelynikol16 @swimmingismywholelife @masonsrem @bracedes @neverinadream @lizzypotter14 @notsoattractivearenti @chilwellspulisic @mm-vii @10vnderhaze
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woeswrites · 10 months ago
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Yandere Hannibal Lecter
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Warnings: Alluding towards torture, Yandere themes, Obsessive behaviors,
Notes: Hannibal's done! A fic idea I had shortened down into whatever this is lol
Hannibal sure loved his dinner parties
Needless to say the community did too
To satiate the numerous requests for more he'd decided it was time to out-do himself yet again
A gathering to celebrate summer solstice would do
He'd spend a considerable amount of time in preparation
Handwritten invitations
A completely unique menu
And last but certainly not least, the gathering of ingredients
As he finished off the last of the swine he could already see his vision coming together
'The day of' quickly approached
Hours he spent slaving away in the kitchen
Finally he'd be able to enjoy himself and entertain his guests
He'd meticulously picked out his visitors for this event
You were very much not among those he'd selected
His eyes trained against your figure
A simple glance and nothing would have been amiss
But Hannibal was not the average onlooker
One by one he picked up on curiosities about you
Your darting eyes scoping out the place
Your suit, new but definitely not costly enough to fit in with the rest of the crowd
And one last thing, that fancy watch of yours
Hannibal excused himself from the clique who had entrapped him with their formalities
A few quick greetings here and there and he was by your side
"Forgive me, but I cannot seem to remember your name. All the party planning must be clouding my memory."
You were quite surprised at the host's appearance
Its not like you were in a group of people
On the contrary, you were alone, on the outskirts of the room
"No need to ask forgiveness. This is actually our first time meeting. Y/n-- Monroe's plus one. It's nice to meet you."
Hannibal gracefully accepted your handshake
He didn't feel the need to mention that he'd already encountered Monroe and his companion that night
That would ruin the fun
He'd strike up a conversation, all the basics (weather, occupation, etc.)
It was safe to say Hannibal didn't believe the accountant lie
He felt your callouses earlier, those were hands of labor
But, yet again, that was something he kept to himself for the time being
By the time you started looking a little antsy someone was calling for Hannibal
"Hostly duties. I hope to catch you again before the party's over Mr. L/n. Do try some of the horderves, I hear the chef's fantastic."
As soon as you escaped the interaction you were back at it
Scanning the various rooms for anything light enough that was worth taking
Elite parties like this were like taking candy from a baby
It's not like these millionaires would notice a few pieces of jewelry missing anyways
Especially not while they were off getting drunk with their friends
Hey, even if they did
You'd soon be gone without a trace
Or at least you thought so
While everyone else was mingling downstairs you'd managed to worm your way into the master bedroom
Luckily you'd brought a pretty bulky satchel with you
Everything and anything that looked valuable was slipped inside the bag
While questioning whether or not the gold candle holders were worth the space they'd take up you heard something
Footsteps
The function was still thriving downstairs (as evident from all the chatter and music)
Perhaps a random partygoer felt the urge to explorex
You weren't too worried about it before they started sounding closer
And closer
It was evident they were heading your way
It was too late to hide
They were practically already here
You quickly clasped your satchel together again before the man fully stood before you
"Well look at what we have here."
"Hannibal! You're just the man I had wanted to see. I have completely gotten lost. Where's your bathroom?"
Your sheepish smile did nothing to convince the man in front of you
Instead he'd locked the door behind him
"If you're trying to be secretive about your motives, maybe you should be careful about wearing your spoils before you've fully left the scene of the crime."
Hannibal points at the watch on your wrist
You might have been wearing it but it was definitely his
You tried to rectify your actions
You clearly had never been caught before
All of the goods were thrown onto the ground
You backed away, begging him to forgive you for you actions
"You know, I really hate the rude. I don't know what more ill-mannered than stealing."
Hannibal approached slowly, rolling up his sleeves
You tried backing away but couldn't get too far
"I'm sorry-- I'm so so sorry!"
"No you aren't. But you will be."
Just like that you were out
It took a second for you to realize you were awake again, your vision obscured by some sort of cloth
Hannibal would eventually reveal your surroundings
You were in his basement, a sight not many were privy to
It probably had something to do with the meats hanging down there
You had to fight the bile that rose up your throat
Hannibal grabbed you by the chin, forcing you to look at him
"We're gonna shape you into a good boy. No matter how long it takes."
He wheeled a cart over to you, the tools a little too fuzzy for you to make out with how bad your head hurt
"Don't look so scared. A little cooperation and maybe this won't hurt so bad Mylimasis."
He'd break you down over time
There was no other option
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thetormentita · 1 month ago
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spes ultima dea - chapter 2
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Audaces fortuna iuvat — Virgil.
Pairings: Ofc x Lucius Verus
A/n: maybe I left some things unwritten between first chapter and this one, maybe i’ll post some stuff in the future 🤔
Warnings: mentions of murder, sexual abuse and slavery; angst, maybe some fluff.
Rating: Explicit (+18)
Tagging list: @novaursa @maegelletargaryen @mmkkzz
She swings her legs from the second floor of the courtyard as she braids her hair, her eyes observing the lanista and the veteran gladiators training. The sun casts warm light on their swift maneuvers, spotlighting the sweat glistening on their skin, and she thinks they glow like the heroes of the tales she was told when she was a child.
Lost in reverie, she imagines herself among them, wielding a sword with courage, though she knows the life of a gladiator is far. If the Romans would not have come to her lands, she would be a ranger, or a soldier, bow in hand, eyes observing with attention her surroundings, or even a healer, but instead of learning from Ravi she would have been apprentice to the tiny woman with grey hair and crooked spine of her memories whose name is now forgotten beneath the mossy oaks of her village.
“Where are the new ones?” The thick accent of the Dacian old slave behind her almost startles her, taking her back to reality.
“Macrinus took them. Dominus says they were to fight in a private party for the Emperors’s favourite.”
“I hope one o’ them cuts the throat of those brats” mumbles the woman, taking a stool and sitting behind her.
“Kata!” Alan turns to face her fellow slave, a woman that could almost be her grandmother with fiery red hair tinted with grayish hairs and the darkest eyes she has ever seen.
“Shut up and let me do yer hair.”
It is not her tribe, those are not her lands, but a part of her feels that the gods have given her a small tribe in replacement, full with warriors to fight back the enemies, and companions to share the burden of captivity.
“Quintus looks worried.” Mumbles Alana, almost pouting, her arms hanging from the bannister as well.
“When does he not look worried, lass? If he does not train the men good enough the ludus loses coin, ‘nd the first to be punished is ‘im.”
“The ludus never loses coin.”
It is strange to have the place that empty. With their dominus by the private event with the newest men and Ravi to help and their domina enjoying the free time far from her husband, the place almost looks like a haven, people from half of the empire gathered in a peaceful moment that might never come again.
“It did” Kata scoffs, her fingers swiftly braiding her long mane as she speaks, never pulling her hair. “The last time you were just a pup, too li’l to know anything. A general fell in disgrace and was sent ‘ere, and he was the best I have seen in many time. Ravi met ‘im too, he was fond of ‘im. A good man.”
“What happened to him?”
“Dead. All the good ones end up dead.”
Alana clenches her jaw, thoughtful as she watches the horizon. She wonders if the same fate awaits to those she holds dear.
“Look at me. Look at me.”
The healer hisses as he takes his face with a hand, forcing him to look at his face. A quick glance is enough for the Indian to know that, at least, the strongest of the newcomers can return to the ludus.
“He savaged my people” the gladiator grits as his hands clench in tight fists, his knuckles turning white with fury. “He took everything from me.”
Despite the defiant answer in proper Latin to the emperors, it still amazes him to hear the gladiator speak other than Punic.
“Who did it?” He muses, forcing him to sit down before him.
“The general.”
Their gazes meet, and a pang of sympathy hits the healer. He knows too well how he feels, how it is to have everything taken from you only because somebody at the other side of the world fancies it.
How much it had hurt for him. The memory still lingers, like a scar that refuses to fade, but he has grown used to that dull pain deep down in his chest. It fuels him, makes him stronger, more determined to mend the broken and save what can be saved.
“Keep your mind clear, you hear me? Your priority must be to earn your liberty.” Hanno is spirited, it shows, but in that moment Ravi has other thoughts forming in his head “Forget the general, the emperors and all those rats around. You have to win your battles and get your freedom.”
“But how—?”
Ravi takes a deep breath, his own victory sometimes still feels too recent.
“Win. Make the people like you, make the other gladiators follow you. Prove your worth, and soon the chains that bind you will break. I lived it myself.”
“Why are you here then?”
A sad smile tugs from the corners of the healer’s lips, and he casts his gaze to the ground. “I had nowhere to go. My village was razed to the ground and my people are dead or captured and slaved at the other corner of the empire. I forged my own family here, and the dominus saw it is more cheap to have me here tending at you than to make somebody else come.”
Ravi glances at Hanno, a hint of vulnerability in his eyes. He has been at his side, he has been furious and violent, but he kept his mind straight. No chains, no walls could hold his spirit captive.
Hanno nods slowly, his resolve hardening like tempered steel.
“I saw good men dead because they were impulsive. Don’t make the same mistake.”
The distant echo of footsteps call the men’s attention, and Ravi is the one to stand up first, placing himself between Hanno and whoever approaches them. It could be the emperors, it could be their dominus, it could be one of the ladies witnessing the fight looking for a favour, it could be Nemesis herself finally claiming their souls.
“Should we call him our favourite this season, then?”
It is their dominus, visibly satisfied with the new acquisition. If he mourns the loss of the rest of the small group, his face does not show it. He approaches them like a vulture waiting for carrion, eyes gleaming with interest.
“Did anybody show any interest in Hanno?”
Ravi knows that for the man they are just faces, only his servants having name when it suits him.
“Apparently the general’s wife, and possibly a senator or two… The season is still young, don’t you think?”
Behind him, Hanno stays stiff, his eyes observing them, and it only takes a stretched palm for Ravi to make him think twice about engaging in any hasty confrontations.
“My advice is to rotate the men as last season, dominus. They all are strong, and whenever they expect the least, they will see Hanno fighting at his best, taking every bout with technique and strength. We all know he has it, and the commoners will adore seeing him in action.”
It hurts him to ignore the Numidian in such way in front of him, but he knows how things go by the tunnels under the amphitheatre, and the least he wants is to get him or himself hurt in the process.
The dominus chuckles softly, an unsettling sound that sends a shiver down Ravi's spine.
“Of course. You see it all, don’t you? Well then, let us make sure this season is as entertaining as ever. Send our favourite to the baths, and make the lass tend to him.” Ravi bows his head, concealing the discomfort beneath his calm demeanor as the dominus throws them a crooked smile “A gift. For his worth.”
A gift.
Ravi sighs when their owner is far enough from them, his breath mingling with the cool air. He turns to Hanno, seeing the silent questions etched on the man’s face like shadows.
A gift.
The last time somebody talked about her as a gift things had ended quite bad for her, with bruises and pain for days, and nightmares for months. But it is the curious stranger this time, not any brute with more muscle than common sense, and she thinks she should not be afraid of him, because he has let her tend to his wounds with unexpected gentleness.
Yet uneasiness flows her senses, almost making her flinch when she hears any noise, her eyes falling to the ground of the room, only the water from the pool providing a steady, soothing rhythm to calm her racing thoughts.
Would he be gentle or prefer to split her in half? Or maybe he wants her to do all the work? What if he prefers the company of men instead of women?
She is lost in her doubts and fears when she can hear footsteps approaching, soft against the stone floor. She closes her eyes for a moment, her instincts hitting hard, and she can spot two different people—no, it is three of them. Her heart races as the footsteps draw closer. The air grows tense, heavy with uncertainty, as she braces herself for their arrival.
But only one crosses the entrance.
“Alana…”
She raises her eyes only to meet his, the purest blue she has ever seen greeting her with a gentle warmth. It feels almost like a promise that perhaps things will be different this time.
“I heard you won. The dominus wants me to take care of you.”
Her hands, clasped at her front, twitch slightly. Her instinct is to pull them away, to melt into the shadows where she feels safe but, instead, she steadies her breathing, forcing herself to remain present.
“Ravi has tended to your wounds?” He nods, and his gaze softens. “Good. Now, you have to get into the water.” As she talks, she pushes herself to approach him, to help him get undressed. “I have soap and oils to help you get rid of the dirt.”
She bites her lower lip as her fingers work deftly to unlace his tunic. Her actions are clinical, but her eyes betray a flicker of hesitation. She wants to think that he is a good man, but she knows well that good men can turn into cruel shadows in an instant. Her heart warns her as much, a constant reminder of past betrayals, moments of despair that costed her a part of her willingness and her strength.
Still, she can't avoid the hope budding in the recesses of her heart.
“What happens?” He mumbles in a perfect Latin, making her stop for just a moment, her fingers pausing in their task, her brain trying to assimilate that she was right and he is more than a Numidian soldier subdued by the pet of the emperors.
“You… You can understand me?” She raises her eyes, wide open, to meet his again as a slow smile creeps onto his lips.
“Yes,” he replies quietly, a hint of warmth in his voice.
“But how—?”
“It is a long story.” He glances to the water with a weary face. “But something troubles you.”
She hesitates, her hands still over his garments, almost like wanting the clothes to keep his nudity to himself.
“I— I am your gift. From the dominus.” She mumbles, her voice barely above a whisper, her gaze still observing his face, expectant of what his reaction will be. “I—It means that you…”
“I know what it means” his rough hands upon hers stop her words. His touch is gentle, not at all like how she imagined it. “I will not force you, I swear” he reassures, his eyes seeking hers with sincerity. “I give you my word.”
She releases a breath she doesn’t realize she has been holding, a flood of relief washing over her as his thumbs trace soft circles upon the back of her hands, almost like wanting to soothe her worries. All she can do is to lower her head and mutter her thanks, a single and betraying tear rolling down her face. He notices the tear, and she flinches when he brushes it away with a finger, softly, as if afraid to break her. Her heart pounds, both from relief and the unusual tenderness he's shown.
“Come on, to the water.” She mumbles as she tilts her head to the pool, letting his clothing slip past her fingers and lay on the floor.
His expression softens, caught somewhere between curiosity and vulnerability, as he steps towards the shimmering surface. A silent groan escaping his lips as the warm water envelops his weary body, easing tension he didn’t realize he carried. She observes him as he sinks deeper into the pool, watching the water ripple around him.
It certainly is a relief for him to not have to bear with his burdens alone. He glances up at her, grateful for her company, and motions her to join him.
“Oh, no.”
“Why not?”
Her gaze flickers toward one of the corners of the room, where the dancing light of a candle casts shadows that dance upon the water.
“I am here to take care of you. Maybe some other day.”
She looks at the gladiator and she doesn’t see a man defined by blood and battle, but rather someone yearning for solace, desperately trying to find peace in a world that refuses him rest. Others are fueled by vicious rage and sorrow, and she thinks that he may be keeping his own pains deep down where no one can see them. She finds herself wishing she could offer him more than a moment of tranquility, something lasting.
Hanno sighs when he settles himself in the water, steam easing his muscles and breathing life into his weary spirit. She observes his features sculpted by the flickering light and she decides he is handsome despite the filth clinging to his body.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Do tell.”
“You were the only one who came speaking Latin. How—?”
He bites his inner cheek, thoughtful, and she approaches him meanwhile, kneeling behind him with soap, oils and cloth.
“I grew up in the port. My father was a merchant.” He turns to face her, slightly surprised to find her behind him, ready to start “Got an idea. Why don’t we play a game? For every question you want to ask me, I can ask one in return. What do you think?” A soft smile curves her lips as she dips the soap bar in the water, his eyes observing her hands, her swift and bony fingers moving with gentle precision.
“Fine by me.” She mumbles, and with care she puts one of her hands atop his head, softly making him face the front as her fingers stroke his hair with care.
“My turn then. How old are you?”
“Don’t really know. I came here before starting bleeding. I have always been at the ludus.” She dips the soap again in the water before starting to scrub it gently against his hair. “How is Numidia? Ravi only said it is past the sea.”
“Boiling hot” a soft giggle escapes his lips as he lets her do, and she smiles at the sound of it. “But you get used to it. Most of all rocks and desert if you go to the south. I lived near the sea, and you can find some more life there. What about your home?”
Her home. It sounds strange to her, because she had forced herself to adapt to a life she never wished for.
“Forests. Enormous green fields” she tries to focus on what she is doing so the memories hurt less. “You can hunt deer and rabbit, and if you are lucky even boar… I once almost shoot down a wolf, but I was small and my arrows were too little for the animal. There was a tree in my village that was up to the sky, and I liked to climb it and see the stars at night, but Mama always got angry and said I would twist a leg or break my head…” She finds herself clenching her jaw, trying her best to keep herself serene. “Dip your head, I need to take the soap from your hair.”
He does as she says and she allows herself a trembling sigh when he can’t hear her. Despite having taken her own situation and forced herself to adapt and see the bright side of it, sometimes she can’t help but feel a longing for the life she had been forced to leave behind.
To distract herself she buries her fingers in his hair again, and allows herself to pass them along his scalp, brushing it softly, only returning her hands to both sides of her lap as he sits up, wiping the excess water from his eyes. “Thank you,” he mutters, rubbing the back of his neck. “I never imagined a healer could offer comfort beyond just remedying the body.” He passes a hand along his hair, and a soft smile appears upon her face “How did you became a healer?”
“Well, healing comes in many forms,” she replies, allowing warmth to fill her voice. “I started to follow Ravi around the ludus, and he showed me. By the time they realized it was cheaper to have Ravi stay in the ludus, I was already helping him.”
There is a question lingering in the air, and neither of them wish to speak it out loud, because it only brings pain.
“I like your braid. It suits you.”
A smile lingers upon Alana’s lips. Maybe it is the first compliment she gets in many time. One of her hands go to her own hair, her fingertips brushing over the elaborated work of Kata.
She could swear she is blushing with Hanno’s words.
“Do you like it?” He hums in approval, leaning against the wall of the pool to let her do better, and Alana’s quick mind starts to imagine him doing what Ravi did, earning his freedom and being remembered fondly by it.
She realizes that when Hanno looks at her, something deep down stirs, like a distant echo of hope calling her heart to soften its guard.
“You were trembling before” Hanno takes one of her hands, studying it as if the answers lay in her palm, his fingertips tracing shapeless figures on the skin, almost trying to soothe her sorrow. “How many times—?”
She frowns, clenching her jaw. “It’s hard to say,” she admits, her voice barely above a whisper. “A few. Too many,” she adds, her eyes distant. Hanno nods, sensing the weight of what remains unspoken.
“I— I am sorry” he murmurs, guilt lacing his voice. Yet, there is an understanding in his eyes, a silent vow to share her burden. “If you want, I can help,” he offers, his grip on her hand tightening slightly, offering his strength.
“I don’t see how you can help.”
“They won’t touch you as long as I am around.” She lifts her gaze, studying him intently. There is a resolve in his eyes that she hadn’t noticed before, a fierce protectiveness she finds comforting. “I mean it,” he insists, meeting her gaze with unwavering determination.
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lyrakanefanatic · 6 months ago
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tig couple hcs part 2: avery and jameson
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• they don’t have that similar music tastes, (as avery just kind of listens to the same 3 songs on repeat until she gets sick of them and looks for another 3 songs to listen to 😭☠️) but when they started dating, they started liking each others music. now when she’s in the car, avery tends to play jamesons playlists
• avery very much does not enjoy those events that alisa forces her to go to when her and jamie get in trouble, so jameson ends up being her hype man. he whispers chants in her ear, like “go avery! go avery! you can do this! go heiress!” so that she feels a bit better going (and so that she laughs bc jameson loves her laugh)
• her and jameson definitely did that “you better lock your phone” trend (the one where you scoop your partner up while running)
• they try the weirdest food combos when they get bored with max and xander, bc those two are weird food combo PROS.
• when they first started dating, avery tried to avoid pda. she would kind of avoid kissing him in front of his family ESPECIALLY his brothers because she felt awkward doing it at first. that was until she learned that they really didn’t care and now she’s fine with it
• i already said something like this in one of my other posts a while ago, but when jameson leaves his clothes in averys room and avery tells him, he always says “must be one of your other guys 😪😓😢”.
• because of this ⬆️, another awkward situation emerged at dinner:
• nan: “hey boy, what happened to that nice suit jacket i gave you for your birthday?”
• jameson: “oh, im not sure. maybe i left it in averys room?”
• avery: “oh yeah, you did. there are two on my dresser, so one should be it.”
• jameson, while smirking: “oh, i actually don’t think those are mine. must be one of your other guys that came over.” the table immediately goes quiet as the older residents of the hawthorne house shoot shocked and disgusted looks at avery. avery looks at him with a “really?” expression, and nash and xander, who knew what was going on, were dying laughing. even GRAYSON was smiling.
• jameson then goes into a deep explanation of the joke, and nan yells at him for putting that “poor girl” (avery) through that. he’s now banned from making jokes at the dinner table. 😪
• sometimes jameson sleep talks, and has like, ongoing convos with avery in his sleep. sometimes avery will lead it on bc she finds it funny, (he always asks her random stuff) but most times she just says “go to sleep, jamie” and he goes to sleep right away. (while making this i heard my dad snoring two rooms away 😔 HE IS SO LOUD!!)
• after nash proposed to libby, jameson made a joke before they went to sleep about proposing to avery, and she just laughed it off. but the next morning when she woke up and saw that he was still asleep, she whispered “i would love to get married to you someday” almost to herself, before kissing him on the forehead and snuggling into him. jameson never mentioned afterwards, but he heard what she said.
• avery actually loves the entire toy story saga and watched all the movies with jameson. they get some of libbys baked goods, tons of candy, and watch it. it used to be their alone time where they could snuggle up against each other and share kisses, but then by the time they were rewatching the second movie, xander found out that they watched those movies and busted in. now all the movie nights are jameson, avery….. and xander. ☠️
• avery wears his sweaters and jameson wears her necklaces
• on nights like mothers day, hannahs death date, or even fathers day they usually end the day with a movie while jameson distracts her by whispering sweet nothings in her ear and covering her with kisses 💗💗
• whenever they go to those fancy galas, they pass the time by looking at guests and creating “characters” for them. for example, jameson will look at a balding guy and say “he has bald spots because he was a lab rat for a mad scientist years ago, who used to zap his head with acids”. avery pretends to not like it but she actually does and laughs whenever he makes far fetched assumptions of the guests’ backstories.
• through out the grandest game, when they can’t sleep at night, they gossip about the contestants. yes, even AVERY does. they don’t ever say bad things about them and automatically assume the best, but they talk about tension/fueds between some. they talk about how it might play out, and sometimes jameson makes jokes about two of the contestants dating. yes, he would endlessly gossip about lyra and grayson. ☠️
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milkywayes · 6 months ago
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As someone who greatly enjoys your turian HCs and given your recent art, I must ask: How do you think Garrus feels about dressing up? Does Shep enjoy seeing him all gussied up? Was he that teen with the turian equivalent of logo tees and beanies? Did his parents dress up for Hierarchy events given Castis’ tier?
ooooh hell yeah thanks for the questions, i love this. gonna be a long one
my thoughts/HCs are as thus:
generally speaking, at least for heterosexual relationships turian women are the ones to approach a potential partner and the males will attempt attracting them by looking good / having a good reputation and accomplishments. long fringes are supposed to impress, hence why only the men evolved them, but it would make sense to me that they’d try to dress up even more to better their chances. picture men in a turian bar posing and wearing their finest outfits to stand out. hell, even turian armor is kind of fancy compared to what other species don. their civvies are very elaborate. it tracks.
but then there’s garrus, who… is just not very interested in all that. i like imagining that the ‘bad turian’ thing goes beyond not being an obedient soldier. so he does not enjoy dressing up. he’s never actively tried attracting a partner like that, and he got shepard without trying, even if he’s still not sure how he pulled that off. to say he’s out of his depth and feeling awkward is an understatement. he got the high rank in the hierarchy in the least straight-forward way imaginable, probably without precedent. he stumbled his way sideways into this gig by uhhh being himself, which is an uncompromising maverick idealist, and by trying to do right by shepard and their mission. not by acting how other turians expected him to.
shepard enjoys it, which is probably the only redeeming factor to garrus. a good chunk of that enjoyment is mirth because she loves when garrus is feeling awkward. it’s a big contrast to his usual confidence and swagger, which she also loves, but rarity’s a factor and she’s gonna take any entertainment she can get from attending these shit functions. (she’s going in utilitarian dress blues, suit and pants combo herself. no jewelry. you can’t make her. lmfao.) that said, he also looks hot in that getup. no complaints from her. or anyone else in attendance. she could point this out to garrus but he wouldn’t believe her. he can be an arrogant bastard, even after getting the scars, but he’s already feeling insecure about his place in the hierarchy and at the event, so there’s none of that right now. at least not for the first half hour. he catches her ogling him a couple times and that does end up boosting his confidence.
as a teen i think he just wore uniforms. i can’t imagine that turian schools don’t have uniforms. i don’t think he’d have had the interest to modify them, he’d have put that energy elsewhere (weapons mods. lol), so you wouldn’t have been able to tell just from looking at him that he’s a bit of a weirdo. but you’d notice fast enough upon meeting him. maladjusted child/teen garrus is important to me. he was lucky he was cute and got good grades.
as for his parents… castis wouldn’t be on palaven often enough to attend lots of hierarchy functions, and while i think mama vakarian had a very respectable tier for her age, only the real high ups who had to impress and be seen by the public really attend galas and such. the couple they did go to, they’d have dressed up, but maybe not as much as i dressed garrus up in that drawing - castis was no advisor to the primarch, and my headcanon for him says he prefers things to be utilitarian. a ‘let my work speak for itself’ kind of guy. he’ll do all that is required, and he’ll be meticulous about it, but he has no love for extravagance.
the funny thing is, castis and garrus are very alike in some ways but then their respective belief systems diverge so heavily that the things they have in common end up working against each other / their relationship lol. they both live for their ideals, they’re stubborn as all get out, they don’t do things just to appease other people.
garrus has more of a swagger though. and he’ll be extravagant - but mostly when showing off his sniping skills. put dangly, sparkly chains on him and he’ll act like a hapless cat that just had something put on their body against their will.
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kca1516 · 17 days ago
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Ready for You - by Kca1516
Summary:
Present for my co-writer/bestie/cousin - here’s some Christmas themed sexy Bucky Barnes as requested :)
~~~~~~~~
You and Bucky are together, you want to have rougher sex and so does he - but he’s nervous about hurting you. And he’s a little bit of an asshole about it sooooo you show him that he either has to step up to play or lose what’s his.
Also on ao3
Part 1
Final Part:
You all arrived at the party to a swarm of photographers. 
Tony had warned you there would be mild press before and after the event, it was good for business to let people know The Avengers were back and better than ever before. 
Still, Bucky had steered you through the interviewers without much comment on anything. He didn’t like the press or the chaos of it all, and you were happy to bypass it. Still, it took you too long to make it inside and when you did the rooms were filled with people you didn't know. 
There were a good amount of Shield agents and other scientists you worked with, but they made up a smaller portion of the population then you would have hoped. 
You didn’t really like parties, preferring to stick to the sidelines. 
Bucky knew it, too. 
“I see some empty seats in the left hand corner, it’s shadowed and away from the dance floor. We wouldn’t be bothered and if you want you can get more drunk than you already are.”
That annoyed you.
As if the only reason you were drunk didn’t have to do entirely with him. You caught Nat’s eye from across the room, she nodded at you to get on with it already. She had a plan, and up until now you weren’t sure you were going to go through with it. 
Finally, you gave Bucly your most unimpressed glare. 
“Actually, I think I’d like to mingle, maybe dance a bit, and if I have another drink that’s none of your damn business.”
Bucky pursed his lips unhappily, and didn’t have the foresight to go after you before you were out of reach. You ignored the hole burning through the back of your head as you made your way to the coat room attendant. 
You looked around once, giving yourself a pep talk before you revealed yourself to this night. Other women were wearing outfits as fancy as yours, but none were as short or as revealing. 
Usually this would cause you to run off to hide in comfort, not tonight. 
“Excuse me, Miss,” the attendant said, as you had yet to remove your overcoat. 
You gave him a smile dazzling enough to make him ease - this was your mission tonight and you weren’t leaving until it was complete. You slipped out of your coat, a rush of warm air encircling you as you handed it to him. 
“Thank you, sir,” you said far too kindly. 
He could only look at you, stunned and awkwardly holding your coat
“My pleasure,” he said offhandedly, and when you turned from him he shouted after you, “enjoy your evening Miss.”
Instinctively, you looked at Bucky. 
He hadn’t allowed you from his sight the whole time, not that you had made the mistake of thinking he had. 
His teeth were all but bared, his hands flexed at his side to keep himself from hitting anything. 
You smirked, he was livid.
~~~~~~~~~~
Three hours into the party, James was not the only one who had noticed your appearance. 
You were dressed in a sparkling red mini dress. Your shoulders were bare as the dress had no straps and barely skimmed the top of your thighs. It cinched your waist and elongated your legs. Your hair was in loose ringlets around your shoulders, and your makeup was smokey and alluring. 
Nat had done a perfect job capturing the character you were embodying tonight. A seductress who no one could have until she said so. 
As if you had announced to the available male population that you were on the menu tonight, a flock of suitors began to follow you wherever you went. At first you had been awkward, not sure how to respond to so much attention, but you relaxed as you were plied with more champagne then you could drink. 
Similarly, at first you had kept an eye out for Bucky. 
When he realized what you were doing, he’d tried to match your strategy, never one to be outdone. You had seen him smiling with women who were clearly trying to get with him, offering to get them drinks, and laughing as if he didn’t have a care in the world. 
It only enraged you, and you refused to have this turned back around on you. 
You ignored him then and focused on flirting with your flock. It began to come naturally as time went by, you were able to gather in an even larger crowd as you chatted and laughed. There were men on either side of the stool you were sitting in, and you often hit their shoulders or wrapped your arm in theirs as another suitor tried to make you laugh with an anecdote. 
You were worried that the men would lose interest once you didn’t immediately jump to be with any of them, but in reality you only had to give each man a moment of your attention for them to come crawling back begging for more. 
The next time you saw Bucky he was ignoring the woman in front of him as he glared at you, his hand tightening around his tumbler of whiskey. You watched as it shattered and he apologized as he made his way to the bar. You laughed at his expense as he got another drink, and were pleased when he excused himself from conversation to seclude himself. 
As if to say, fine, you’ve proved your point now stop playing these games. 
But truthfully, you didn’t want to. You liked when it was you holding his leash for once, and you wanted him to feel what that was like for a little longer. You smiled at him and then went back to your conversation. 
Another hour went by as you entertained and flirted with the group around you. They were getting bolder as you had yet to single out a favorite. 
Bucky had gone from exasperated with your performance, to furious. His lips had turned down entirely and he was staring at you like you were his next target, it lit a thrill inside of you and made you nervous in equal measure. This had been what you wanted but now that it was said and done with you ached to postpone the inevitable. He was a darkened angel, icey gaze encircling you. 
You were his to devour and no one else’s.
That’s what you had wanted to remind him of, but holding that power began to go to your head. 
You got too cocky. 
The live band began to start up with a new song, a ballad. 
There had been one man in particular who had been at the front of the group the whole night. 
He had kind eyes and finally, he stepped forward. 
“I hate to break up the merriment,” the man said, the crowd quieted, “but would you honor me with a dance, Y/N?”
You weren’t really a dancer, certainly not in public like this. But tonight you were pretending to be someone you weren’t - and at seeing the man approach you with a real offer, Bucky had perked up from his perch at the bar. 
You should stop it here. You had gotten what you wanted, you had proved your point. 
You weren’t anyones to control, and he didn’t get to make decisions about you the way he had assumed to. But there was something that was still missing, Bucky was still on the other side of the room. 
Why hadn’t he stopped it? He hated seeing you like this, as if you could ever be anybody else’s. Insecurity had set in, what if-what if he didn’t really care? What if you weren’t as important to him as he was to you?
You were sure it was the drinks getting to your head, but you had stopped drinking about an hour ago. Knowing you needed to be sober for the argument you were going to have with Bucky after this. 
“Y/N?” the man said again, not sure what you were distracted by. 
With effort you tore your gaze away from Bucky, who seemed to say don’t you dare, and looked at the brown haired man in front of you. He was tall and had a good smile, and you felt absolutely nothing for him. 
“Of course,” you said abruptly, “this is one of my favorite songs-” it wasn’t “-I’d love to dance-” you wouldn’t. 
But as quickly as you agreed to the proposition, you were being led to the main floor. You almost tripped over your own feet on the way, and when the stranger pulled you in with one hand on your waist you wanted to puke. 
This was too far, this was too much. You were mad at Bucky, that was true, but to feel another man’s hands on you was vile. He was all around you, all over you, touch too familiar with skin he had never felt before and never should. 
“You look beautiful tonight,” the man said, he continued to speak after that but you weren’t paying attention. 
His hands rested where Bucky’s hands should be, his touch smooth where Bucky’s fingers were calloused, his arms lean where Bucky was broad and strong. You missed your man’s cologne, the rumble of his voice, his laugh. You missed him, you didn’t want to be with anyone else and, and-
“We’re leaving,” a familiar, unmoving voice spoke up from next to you. 
You hadn’t heard him approach over the blare of trumpets but then he was there, and you couldn't be more thankful for it. 
“Excuse me?” the man dancing with you said, sounding like he was ready to fight for you. 
What an idiot. 
“You’re excused. Y/N, we’re leaving, let’s go,” Bucky said, not bothering to answer the man’s question. 
This was between you and him and no one else. 
You stopped moving, letting your touch fade from the strangers as you tried to turn to Bucky - but suddenly that stranger was closer to you then he had been previously, his hold keeping you in place. 
“Just because he tells you to go doesn’t mean you have to.”
You tried to pull away from him instinctually, but he didn’t let you. 
This Bucky couldn’t ignore. 
He stepped between you so the man was forced to retreat. You breathed harshly as if it was your first time taking fresh air since you had entered the building. You leaned on Bucky, knowing he would support you.  
“She told you to leave,” Bucky growled, flexing his hands, “I suggest you listen to her before I make you.”
Your hand slid into Bucky’s metal one and he interlaced your fingers.
The stranger’s eyes went wide with understanding as he took a step back from Bucky. 
“So you were just pimping her out this whole time-” the man started to say, knowing he couldn’t compete with Bucky physically but deciding to get another jab at you while he still could. 
Bucky lunged for him, grabbing the front of his lapels. Luckily, as Nat had said, everyone around you was too drunk to notice. 
“Fuck did you just say,” Bucky growled at him. 
The stranger’s face whitened with fear. 
You lurched forward as well, laying your hands on Bucky’s back. 
“Bucky,” you said, “let’s go, come on let’s just get out of here. He’s not worth it.”
At first your soldier didn’t budge, still deciding whether or not to punch the man into unconsciousness. It wasn’t the first time Bucky had gotten protective of you like this, but this might have been the first time you weren’t sure if you could pull him back from the edge. 
“James,” you whispered, “please, love. Let’s go home.”
You put your forehead against his back, begging him, and it was only with this resignation that Bucky pulled away, letting go of the man. 
“Get out of here,” he warned, “before I change my mind.”
The man was gone by the time Bucky turned back around. The Winter Soldier remained exactly as he should be, clean of blood, free of scars, with all five fingers. 
In the crook of his arm was your coat. 
“James…” you tried to say, but trailed off - not having the words. 
Bucky took the garment off his arm and wrapped it around you, you plaintively put your arms through the sleeves. 
“We’re leaving,” was all he said. 
He put an arm around your waist before you had secured the coat into place and was leading you out of the party as if leading you to a judge’s sentencing. 
~~~~~~~~~~
The entire ride had been spent in silence, the tension rising between you the entire time until you were just as angry with him as you had been the night before. 
This was the entire problem, he wouldn’t just talk to you. You had to fight him at every turn to get him to open up to you, to the things he wanted. He shut you out at every opportunity, but expected you to do the emotional lifting in the meantime. 
You knew he was working through things, but this was different than that. This was stubbornness and bullheadedness and you were sick of it.  
Still, neither of you found the will to say anything, simmering in the silence knowing it would never last. 
You got back to Avengers Tower quicker than you had left it, thanks to Bucky’s driving. Before you had finished unbuckling your seatbelt, he was opening your door. You slipped a hand into his and let him guide you inside, then up the elevator, and finally into the home’s entryway. 
The door had barely closed, Bucky’s hand still on the handle, when he finally broke through the mounting tension. 
“Want to explain to me why you were being a spiteful brat all fucking night?” a dark, Brooklyn accent ground out at you. 
You had your back towards him hanging up your coat that revealed the reason for his anger tonight. And also for his arousal, you had seen him try to hide it from you - but it was impossible to ignore the straining in his pants. You hoped it hurt.
Neither of you had been able to get off in weeks now, and right now it was more than just noticeable.  
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you answered as you knew you should, as if you were innocent.
You toed off your heels and bent down to pick them up, hinging at the waist so Bucky definitely got a look at the black lacy thong that cupped your sex. Unbeknownst to you, he loosened his tie, throwing off his suit jacket so he could breathe. 
“No idea,” Bucky snarled, “I’m sure the way you were waving your cunt at every willing fella was just a fucking accident.”
His accent always got more prominent when he was angry, and you couldn’t deny the pit it opened up inside of you even as anger surged through. 
You turned to him fiercely, unwilling to admit that it meant he had gained some ground. 
He was closer than you had remembered him being. The sleeves of his button down were rolled up to his elbows - revealing muscle and prominent veins that ran through to his fingers. 
“Say that to my fucking face, I dare you,” you snarled, chest heaving with indignation. 
But Bucky was suddenly in front of you - having crossed the room in two steps. You put your hands on his chest automatically as if to stop him, but you couldn’t stop him as you were pushed against the wall behind you. His hand gripping your chin hard enough to hurt. 
He didn’t let you look away from him as he spoke next. 
“I said,” he rumbled, “that you’ve been a damn whore all night, sweetheart, and now I’m going to remind you exactly who you belong to.”
You swelled with arousal as relief flowed through you. 
“Finally,” you returned. 
And then Bucky Barnes was all over you, everywhere at once - and you wouldn’t have had it any other way. 
Your mouths crashed together, hot and messy as he licked long, possessive strips into your mouth and you nipped at his lips. At first your hands found refuge in his hair, you carded your fingers through the strands before pulling hard. 
His hands had been memorizing the shape of your body, pulling at the fabric that didn’t really cover anything. He had been molding the flesh of your hips in one hand while the other went to pinch harshly at your nipples. He had never been so forward with his actions but it was making you gasp in distinct pleasure. 
He groaned from your ministrations in his hair, and grabbed your hands easily, pinning them above your head. 
“After all you pulled tonight, and you think I’m going to let you run this, sweetheart?” he murmured against your lips. 
It was with a laugh, like you had severely underestimated him. He was about to prove to you that you had done just that. 
He bruised your lips one last time before trailing his mouth down your neck. He had never been one to leave dark hickeys, not only for professionalism in your day-to-day work, but also because he had never wanted to hurt you. Now he latched onto a spot behind your ear, and sucked hard as he grinded down on your body. 
A moan was pulled from your throat at the pleasure-pain. You opened your legs for him to fit between, and let your skirt ride up as his hips slotted perfectly against yours. You could feel his bulge against your hot cunt, and you wanted more. 
“Please,” you moaned, barely getting the word out as pleasure lit your nerve endings, “please fuck me, I need it James-”
He bit at your neck, and you screamed at the same time he thrust against you. You hoped the mark would last for days. 
“Sir,” he growled against your neck as you turned boneless against him, “you’ll call me sir, tonight.”
You wanted to claw your fingers down his back, but no matter how you bucked against him for more friction he didn’t release you. 
“Yes, sir,” you whimpered, “please, sir, please fuck me - hard.”
“As if a whore like you would want it any other way,” he breathed into your ear, smirking. 
He turned you around then, so your face was pressed against the wall. He switched his hold on your arms so he held them in only one hand. The other trailed down your back until it caught on the dress's zipper. Without fitness, he pulled the fastening down, releasing you from the hug of its shape so it fell in a pile on the floor. 
You were left only in the black panty hose Nat had allowed you, your jewelry, and your panties. 
When he turned you around again, he immediately kneaded the swell of your breast as his mouth latched onto your nipple. He sucked, and nipped and teased the flesh to his heart's desire. He had always had an inclination for your tits, loving the way they swelled and felt pushed against his own skin. 
He played with you until a wet spot stained your underwear. Your head spun with arousal, it had been so long and you needed him so badly. 
You were boneless - so caught up in the pleasure surging through your body that you didn’t expect for him to throw you over his shoulder. 
“Woah,” you said as the world turned on its axis, but when it provided you with the perfect view of his ass you didn’t object further. 
The trip didn’t last very long as the super soldier walked only as far as the couch before he put you down. Once again you tipped in the air as he threw you over the sofa’s arm. He had your arms secured at your back, face in the cushions so your makeup smudged and your ass rose in the air. 
“Bucky,” you moaned at the treatment, and when a hand came down on your ass you yelped. 
“Sir,” the word was pushed from you with his reminder, “sir, please.”
Bucky was behind you, towering over you as he rubbed at your back gently with his thumb. 
“You’re beautiful like this,” Bucky murmured, “exactly where you belong, under me and no one else. Only I can fuck you this good, sweetheart. You want me to take you, I fucking will.”
Suddenly his hand was gone from your wrists, though you didn’t dare to move them. 
“Good girl,” Bucky praised, or ridiculed. 
You weren’t sure which, and it didn’t matter for long as it still made you blush and push your sex that much higher into the air. He grabbed at your underwear and pushed it down so it fell at your ankles. 
“There’s the slutty pussy I remember,” he said. 
His hands grabbed at your ass, exposing your sloppy hole to him. So he could see exactly what he was doing to you. 
“Fuck, YN,” he swore, “you’re mine, all mine.”
And then he fisted his hands into the delicate fabric of your tights and pulled. The fabric ripped with ease, making goosebumps pimple on your thighs. 
Suddenly, Bucky was on his knees behind you, his warm breath fanning over your dripping sex. 
Your breath hitched, and in the next second the super soldier surged forward open mouth as he licked a heady strip up your cunt. You weren’t able to hold in a scream as he began eating you out with vigor. Of course, you learned Bucky was good with his tongue a long time ago, he loved giving you head and he was good at it. 
But this wasn’t about your pleasure, no matter that it was a side effect. Bucky didn’t care if you got off on this, he had his face shoved into your cunt, your juices dripping down his face, to remind you that you were entirely owned and nothing else. 
He began to tongue incessantly at your clit, stimulating you so you were grinding back into his face, trying to keep him there long enough for you to finally come. But just as the pleasure was about to mount into something explosive, Bucky pulled away. 
“No,” you mourned as he spit on your cunt before standing up leaving you desperate and unsatisfied. 
“Please, sir,” you begged, “I need you so badly.”
Tears pricked in your eyes as a heady fog made your body limp, prepared for anything he would give you. Cherishing it as if it was a drop of water and it was your plagued by thirst. 
“So pathetic, sweetheart,” he said, “ you would have let anyone use this cunt tonight, anyone who would have offered you some release.”
“No,” you shook your head incessantly, “no, sir, I swear I wouldn’t have let anyone touch me. I belong to you, only you touch me.”
His fingers tested the state of your pussy, sliding in ever so gently to check for give. 
“Yeah, is that what you tell all the men you string along?”
You tried to catch the tips of his fingers against your hole, enticing him to slip in. He pulled back and smacked your pussy, you moaned. 
“No, sir,” you babbled, “no, only you get me. They can look all they want but they can’t touch what’s yours. I’m yours, sir.”
You heard the sound of the super soldier undoing his belt buckle. The button popped open and then the zipper pulled down. You were drooling for it, not knowing if you wanted it more inside of you or down your throat. 
“I’ll fuck your throat another time, sweetheart,” Bucky promised. 
You hadn’t realized you had said your desires out loud, but the lull of his voice evened you and anything he said relaxed you that much further. 
“But this isn’t about what you want, darling. All you need is to lay there, and keep looking sexy as I release some of this tension.”
You knew what he was about to do, and you tensed knowing it would be a lot. Bucky was big, and thick, and you loved it but you had never taken him without prep. 
In the same instance, you hoped he tore you open and made you bleed. You wanted him to own you, just like he promised. 
“No one else gets you like this, baby,” he said, “this is only for me - and I’ll kill anyone who tries to take this from me. Do you understand?”
In the same instance, Bucky stopped holding back. In one harsh thrust, the super soldier lined himself up and entered you. 
You screamed as pleasure and pain ripped up your spine. For a moment the world whited out around you as Bucky didn’t allow you a chance to get used to him. You didn’t want him to, and then he started thrusting into you and all coherent thoughts fled your mind. 
You were thankful the couch supported your weight as you went boneless as his heavy cock slapped into you over and over again. You were so wet, and the sound of it was so obscene - and quicker then Bucky expected you started begging for more. 
“Please,” you begged, “please fuck me, fuck me hard like only you can give me, James, please-”
At the use of his name, Bucky picked up his pace - hitting the spot within you that made you see stars with each thrust. His hand threaded into your hair and pulled, your moan echoed along the walls as he forced your head up. 
Anyone could walk in on you at any moment, and neither of you cared in the slightest. 
“That’s better,” Bucky rumbled into your ear, his own voice tense now as pleasure began to overwhelm him, “I wanted to hear you. I wanted to hear you as I split your pussy open on me. You're gorgeous, YN, and you’re all mine.”
Drool began dripping down your chin as Bucky went so deep your eyes rolled into the back of your skull. 
“You told me to take what I want,” Bucky babbled as he lost his mind within you, “so that’s what I’m fucking doing. I’m taking what belongs to me, and you can go back to those-”
He thrust deep and hard, fucking into your cervix. 
You screamed as the beginnings of an orgasm began to rush over you. 
“-bastards at Stark’s party and show them how I’ve ruined you. How I got you addicted to my cock and there’s nothing more a slut like you needs.”
Pleasure washed over you in waves. He hadn’t even touched your clit and still it was overwhelming. 
“Fuck,” he swore as you squeezed around him, unable to make any more noise then incoherent whimpers, “good girl, such a good girl for me. Coming like that.”
His hips stuttered and you could tell he was getting close. Making you come always did push him to the edge. The hand that wasn’t gripping your head circled around your waist until his fingers made their way to your clit, and he started rubbing. 
“No one else,” you babbled, “I’m yours, sir, I’m yours-”
His thrusts became wild as his hips slammed into you over and over again. 
“For weeks,” he breathed, “for weeks you’ve been begging me like a bitch in heat to rip you open and put you back together. And after that performance tonight-”
He grunted as his hips stuttered into you, and you knew he was close. So were you, his fingers never stopped rubbing at your clit. 
“-I couldn’t deny either of us, sweetheart. Not a pretty brat like you.”
‘Bucky,” you moaned, and he didn’t chastise you for moaning his name. 
He only ever wanted to hear it falling from your lips like honey. 
“Come on, sweetheart,” he said, “be good for Daddy and come on my cock.”
It was the last push you needed as the piston of his hips faltered before finally thrusting into you deep and releasing. The feeling of him so buried inside of you, painting your insides in his come, and claiming you like you both needed pushed you over the edge the second time. 
This time it was much stronger as you pulsed around him and brayed as you released. Behind you Bucky groaned and grunted, the sounds he made were bone deep. 
The man bent over you so he covered you with his back, protecting your body from the air pressing in around you. 
You relaxed under the familiar weight, pulsing uncontrollably around him. 
“That’s my girl,” he murmured, kissing at the side of your neck as one hand came to hold on your stomach, to feel how his cock stretched you out and filled you, “that’s my good girl.”
You sighed and surrendered to riding out your orgasms entangled in one another. 
~~~~~~~~~~
Once you and Bucky were spent, the super soldier gently pulled out of you, knowing that you would be sore in the aftermath. You were afraid that the man would pull away from you, as he had every other time the sex between had gotten rougher. 
Your worry was tangible as you expected him to flee, and in your vulnerable state you just couldn't imagine that happening. Not when he had given you everything that you wanted. 
“Shhh, good girl,” Bukcy murmured, hugging you close to him, “I’m here, I’m not going anywhere. Let me take care of you.”
Tears pricked your eyes, and you nodded. 
“Just don’t go,” you begged him, and you saw him wince. 
He knew why this was a fear of yours. 
Instead he kissed you lightly as he gathered you in his hold and began carrying you to your bedroom. 
“Never, Y/N. I’ll never leave you, I swear to you.”
It was earnest and genuine, and it was the only reason you eased into his care. 
Bucky brought you first to your private bathroom. He set you on the toilet before filling the tub, adding bubbles so the room smelled like lilac. Together you bathed, he rubbed you down, even washed your hair. His touch gentle and soothing, you curled up on his chest and swore you fell asleep while he held you. 
You didn’t know how long you stayed in the nice sauna with him, the two of you reacquainting yourselves with one another, touching one another and kissing gently. But eventually the bath water grew cold and you became clammy. 
He helped you from the water and as you stood you came back to yourself. Together you dried eachother off, enjoying the communication that passed between you without a word needing to be said. 
The two of you put on bathrobes as you heard the rest of the Avengers stumble into the tower now three hours after the two of you had. The clock read one thirty in the morning. 
You ignored them, your door staying firmly locked as you made your way to bed, curling up under the covers. Bucky spooned you, the reassurance of his metal arm coming to wrap around your waist and pull you tightly to him. 
He once told you that one of the reasons you loved holding you was because in his arms you were safe, in his arms the world only existed for the two of you. You could have fallen asleep, you wanted to, but in the absence of the warm water a second wave of energy hit you. You were wide awake, and stewing in your own thoughts. 
“I’m sorry for how I acted tonight,” you said, “I wanted to prove to you that I wasn’t so breakable, that I knew what I was asking for. But I never meant to push you so far.”
To your relief, Bucky’s chest rumbled with laughter. 
“It’s alright, doll,” he promised, “I know why you did it - I was being too stubborn. I was standing in both of our ways, what you did made me take my head out of my ass and figure out what was more important to me.”
You flipped in his arms so you were facing him. He was wide awake as well, known for having trouble sleeping. 
“What do you mean?” you asked. 
He pushed your hair from your face, and you leaned into the cool of the metal. 
“I had to decide what was more important to keep - my fear or you.”
You wanted to interrupt him. Insist there was never a world where he would lose you, and that there was no point to think about it. But you knew sometimes Bucky had to chew on his thoughts before putting words to them, you kept silent, giving him room to speak. 
“Back before the war-”
World War II.
“-I had my fair share of women.”
You knew this, but it was always cute to see how shy he got talking about his past relationships. There was no jealousy when you knew you were the only one who truly mattered to him.  
“Of course there were the sweet ones who wanted me to be gentle and doting - and of course I like that as well, but…but I had an active sex life with most of the women I was with.” 
Like what the two of you had done tonight.
“I liked dominating them, overwhelming them with pleasure, taking what was mine and making sure they were safe in the aftermath.”
You liked hearing good stories from his past. It was a rare sighting most days. 
“But after the programming, things were different. I spent so much of my life drowning in violence. When we got together, I ached to have you the way I did tonight. I wanted to fuck you stupid and satisfy every one of your needs, but I was worried.”
His arms held you close as you laid your head on his chest. Listening to his heartbeat, so grateful that you had him the way that you did. 
“Worried that it would be different now, that  it would trigger me to act like the soldier again. I couldn't hurt you, it wasn’t a possibility I would accept. But I did hurt you, I dismissed your wants and feelings and that was just as bad.
“Tonight I realized the only thing keeping me from having you the way we both wanted was me. I was afraid of something that wasn’t real, and I realized to hold myself back from that joy was to play right into Hydra’s hands. I’m done letting them control my life. Tonight, you showed me how to make love to you the way we both needed, and you proved to me what you've always known.”
“That you would never hurt me,” you said, knowingly. 
He nodded, and kissed your forehead. 
“Thank you Y/N,” he said, “you’re guiding light, and I love you with everything in me.”
You pushed up and kissed him, properly. He rolled you over so you were straddling him. 
“I love you, too,” you whispered to Bucky, nudging your noses together. 
It wasn’t the first time you had said the words to each other, but every time sent a rush of happiness down your spine. You felt like you were glowing with it. 
“And next time you need me to fuck you stupid,” a Brooklyn accent seduced you, “it would be my truest pleasure.”
You flicked your finger at his nose and blushed, he laughed at your sudden modesty. He took your hand and kissed it. 
You melted under his touch. 
“Merry Christmas, James,” you said, laying your head down on him. 
His hand came up to cradle your head, and he leaned down to kiss the top of it. 
“Merry Christmas, sweetheart,” he replied. 
Thanks for reading!!!
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