#p: marvel cast

[vonlipvig]

you know they fucked up when their movie's rating graph starts looking like this. you've ruined a perfectly good movie, is what you've done. look at it, it's got lazy generative AI art.

[bumbleblurr]

g1 blurr & rb blurr are the only 2 blurrs designed to be alive. Everybody else gets to die and suffer

Edit as I was typing the tags: OH YEAH ARMADA BLURR I'm p sure he gets alive privileges too

[mrsbuckybarnes1917]

Sex on the Beach

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Suncream...cum, is there a difference? Bucky is painting you either way.

Word Count: 6.2k

Warnings: bratty reader with Bucky doing his best at taming, teasing, oral sex (m), bucky fucking your tits, p in v sex, sarge/good girl kink, fingering, creampie, Bucky getting his own back at the end.

A/N: Thank you Daisy @firefly-graphics for this banner!

As Bucky sprawled out across the plush double sun lounger, his chiseled physique on full display in nothing but a pair of well-fitted swim trunks, he exuded an air of pure tranquility. The Ray-ban sunglasses you had thoughtfully gifted him just before the trip now shielded his eyes from the late morning sun's gentle rays, which danced across his lightly tanned skin. Every muscle in his body was completely relaxed, not a hint of tension to be found, as he teetered on the edge of drifting off into a blissful morning nap.

The lounger was situated on the expansive deck of Tony's luxurious Hamptons beach house, mere steps away from the glistening, azure waters of the pool and the endless horizon of the ocean beyond. The expertly positioned fencing surrounding the property offered the two of you a welcome sense of privacy, shielding you from prying eyes while still allowing the soothing sounds of the waves crashing against the nearby shoreline to reach your ears.

When you had first packed for the weekend getaway, the weather forecast had called for nothing but rain and stormy conditions, and you had almost left your vibrant yellow bikini behind, certain that there would be no opportunity to don it. However, Bucky had insisted that you bring it along, and now you were endlessly grateful that you had heeded his advice, eagerly anticipating the chance to join him in soaking up the unexpected sunshine.

As you emerged from the pool, the cool, refreshing water droplets glistening on your skin, you couldn't help but marvel at the unseasonably warm weather. The sun's golden rays felt almost soothing against your unclad flesh, a stark contrast to the chill of the pool you had just left. With a towel wrapped snugly around your waist, you cast a playful, impish glance over at Bucky, who hadn't moved from his reclined position on the nearby lounge chair, sunglasses perched on his nose. A mischievous smirk crept across your lips as you bent down and scooped up a handful of the chlorinated pool water, your fingertips lightly skimming the surface. Carefully, you tiptoed over to where Bucky lay, the water sloshing gently in your cupped palms. 

Though his eyes were shielded by dark lenses, you knew Bucky's heightened senses were ever alert, a byproduct of his turbulent past living in fear - whether under HYDRA's control or on the run. Sure enough, as you neared him, one of Bucky's eyes snapped open, his body instantly tensing, ready to spring into action at the first sign of perceived danger. But when he saw it was merely you, a playful glint in your eye and a splash of water in your hands, his posture relaxed, and he sat up, the sunglasses sliding down his nose as he fixed you with a playful glare, silently daring you to make your move.

“Whatcha doin’ there, doll?”

You flicked the remaining water droplets in your hand at him but they barely reached his bare chest.

“That the best you got?” he taunted, his piercing gaze daring you to try again.

“Not even close,” you replied with a mischievous grin, letting the towel slip just slightly as you pretended to consider your next move.

Bucky raised a single, dark eyebrow, his playful glare still firmly in place. “You think you can just come at me with that pathetic splash? I’d be ashamed if I were you,” he goaded, his deep, rumbling voice sending a shiver down your spine.

Unable to resist the challenge, you let out a bright, carefree laugh that seemed to dance in the air around you. “Oh really? Is that a challenge, Barnes?” you retorted, your eyes sparkling with mischief as you prepared to retaliate, the tension between you electric.

“Depends on what your idea of a challenge is. Because if it involves getting me wet, you might just succeed.” He smirked, leaning back slightly as if preparing for something.

You laughed, sitting down beside him, letting your wet skin rub against his as you rubbed the towel along your arms. “Do my sunscreen?” you asked, looking over your shoulder at him and batting your eyelids coquettishly.

Bucky raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth quirking up as he shuffled closer. “Sunscreen, huh? You sure that's all you need me for?” he asked huskily.

He was halfway through a playful eye roll when your hands moved to the back of your neck, swiftly undoing the halterneck string of your bikini top to reveal your soft breasts. “Don’t want to risk getting tan lines,” you smirked at his widening eyes.

“Of course not,” he mumbled, shaking his head at your antics.

“So you gonna help me or not?”

“Get over here.” He wrapped his arm around your waist and hoisted you into his lap. With his flesh arm he flicked open the bottle of sunscreen, making the same popping sound that you associated with him opening a bottle of lube and you felt a shiver through your body, your skin erupting in goosebumps.

Bucky noticed immediately, there wasn’t anything he missed when it came to your body’s responses. “Cold?” he smirked.

A soft gasp escaped your lips as Bucky pulled you closer, his chest pressed flush against your back, his breath tickling the nape of your neck. Despite the warm fall air, a shiver of anticipation still rippled down your spine at the feel of his body against yours.

“N-No,” you breathed out, your voice a breathless whisper. “Just a bit… sensitive.”

Bucky's eyes darkened further, a wicked smirk playing on his lips as he felt your shiver and heard the huskiness in your voice. He knew the effect he had on you, and he loved it.

He leaned in, his voice low and deep, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he spoke. "Sensitive, hmm?" he murmured, his breath hot against your skin. One of his hands drifted downwards, tracing a slow, tortuous path along your bare hip.

"Mmm, don't forget the front," you moaned.

Bucky's smirk grew even more wicked at the sound of your moan, his chest rumbling with a low, appreciative growl. He shifted you in his lap so that you were straddling him, your legs on either side of his hips, giving him full access to your front.

He leaned back, the sunlight casting a glow around his head like a halo, his eyes roving hungrily over your body, taking in every inch of bare skin.

"Are you just going to sit and stare? Or you want me to get burned?”

Bucky chuckled, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he met your gaze, his hands still resting on your hips.

"Patience, doll. I'm just admiring the view," he teased, his thumbs rubbing gentle circles on your hips, sending prickling shivers through your body.

Slowly, he began to apply the sunscreen on your torso, his hands moving in sensual, deliberate circles, covering every inch of your skin in the creamy liquid.

Bucky's hands slowed as they reached the curves of your breasts, his palms hovering mere inches away, as if reluctant to touch them just yet. His eyes locked onto yours, his gaze dark and hungry. He swallowed hard, his breath coming out in a shaky exhale.

"You don't know how hard it is to keep my hands off you, doll," he murmured, his voice gruff, his hands slowly moving closer, his thumbs just barely brushing against the swell of your tits.

You leaned forward so your hardened nipples grazed his chest. "Who said you had to?”

Bucky's breath hitched at the feel of your nipples gliding across his chest, a low, guttural moan rumbled in his throat. He shifted his hips, his growing hardness pressing against you through the thin fabric of his swim trunks.

"Mmm, doll. You're a damn tease, you know that?" he panted, his fingers digging into your hips, his thumbs still brushing against your sensitive skin, teasing but not quite touching where you wanted.

"Who's teasing?" You asked innocently, pushing your ass down into the growing bulge in his trunks.

Bucky's eyes darkened, his expression shifting from playful to downright feral, the veins in his arms bulging as his muscles tensed. He let out a growl, his voice deep and strained.

"Oh, you're playing with fire now doll," he warned, his hands gripping your hips tighter, his body quivering with barely restrained desire. He bit his lip, trying to hold back, but it was taking all his willpower not to throw you down onto the lounger and take you right then and there.

"The only fire I'm feeling right now is that giant ball in the sky that's unevenly tanning my boobs right now," you pouted.

Bucky let out another soft growl.

"Aww, did I make you mad?" You put on a baby voice.

Bucky huffed out a sardonic laugh, his fingers absently tracing patterns on your hip. He was far too distracted by the feel of your body on top of his to be truly angry.

"Mad? Nah, doll. Just struggling to control myself with you being so damn frisky right now." He raised an eyebrow, his eyes locking onto yours, the heat in his gaze undeniable. "Question is, what’re you gonna do about it?”

"Want me to kiss it better?" You leaned forward with pouty lips.

Bucky's eyes darkened at the sight of your pouting lips, his resolve slowly crumbling. This teasing game you were playing was getting torturous, but damn if he wasn't loving it. He reached up, his hand cupping your chin, his thumb tracing along your lower lip.

"Mmm, I think I might need a little more than just a kiss, doll. You're being a brat and you know it.”

"Ask nicely.”

Bucky bit his lip, his breathing growing heavier as your defiance only seemed to fuel his desire. His hand threaded through your hair, pulling you closer until your faces were mere inches apart.

"Please, doll," he said huskily, his voice low and thick with lust. "Stop being such a damn tease and let me have you.”

"Only if you're good, Sarge." You bit your lip seductively.

Bucky's breath hitched at the sound of the nickname, a low moan rumbling in his chest. You knew how much he loved it when you called him that, and the effect it had on him was always immediate.

"Doll, you know damn well I'm always good," he said huskily, his eyes locked on your lips as you bit them seductively, his hand in your hair gently pulling your head back, exposing your neck. "But today, you're going to need to follow my orders.”

Your walls fluttered with excitement at his words and you bit back a moan.

Bucky smirked at the reaction he saw in your eyes, his gaze raking over your body possessively. He could see the effect his words had on you, and it only made him more possessive. He knew your weakness, just like you knew his.

"So obedient," he murmured, his mouth hovering over your neck, his lips just barely grazing your skin. "But I want to hear you say it. What’s the safe word?”

You whined against his ear, wiggling your ass in his lap. "Oklahoma.”

Bucky let out a harsh breath, his eyes fluttering closed for just a second as your body moved against his in his lap. He took a moment to collect himself before opening his eyes, a smug look on his face as he looked at you.

"Good girl," he praised, his lips finally claiming your neck, his mouth hot against your skin. "Now, why don't you get on your knees and show me how good you can be for me?”

"No, thank you.”

Bucky's eyes widened slightly at your defiant reply. No one disobeyed him, especially not when he had laid out clear instructions.

He chuckled, but there was an edge to it, a hint of a warning.

"Doll, you can’t be defying my orders already. I know you know the punishment for being a disobedient little brat. Is that what you want? A reminder of who’s in charge here?”

"You're so cute when you try and control me, even though we both know that I'm in charge," you smirked.

A deep rumble left Bucky's throat at your words. He knew you were playing, pushing his buttons and testing his patience, but it was getting harder and harder to hold back.

"Oh really, doll? You think you're in charge?" he purred, his eyes darkening as he held your gaze, his hands gripping your hips tightly.

"Maybe I need to remind you who you belong to.”

"Do it, I dare you.”

Bucky's eyes flashed with a predatory gleam at your challenge. It was as if you were dangling a steak in front of a lion, and expecting it not to pounce. You were playing with fire, and he was itching to teach you a lesson.

In a swift, fluid movement, Bucky shifted your position on his lap so that you were lying back on the lounger. He hovered over you, his body pressed against yours, trapping you beneath him.

"Oh doll, I'm gonna do more than just remind you," he growled. "You're gonna do as you're told.”

"Yeah?" you asked breathily.

Bucky smirked at the breathlessness in your voice. It was clear that you were already affected, your body responding to his proximity, his touch. He brought his face closer to yours, his lips hovering just millimeters from your ear. His voice was rough and low, carrying a threat that made your heart skip.

"Yep. I'm gonna teach you a damn lesson in obedience, doll. And you're gonna love every second of it.”

"Oh, am I?”

Bucky leaned back to look at you, his eyes raking over your body, taking in your flushed cheeks and heavy breathing. He could see the effect he was having on you, and it only served to make him more confident.

"Damn right you are," he said, his voice a low rumble. "I can see it in your eyes, doll. You love it when I get all dominant, when I take charge. And I love it when I have you all submissive and pliant, begging for more.”

You could only whimper in response, your body consumed by the arousal and promise of his cock.

Bucky smirked, noticing your inability to form a response. He could easily see how turned on you were, how badly you wanted him to take you. His eyes darkened with a mixture of lust and satisfaction. Slowly and sensually he rolled his hips against your core.

"See, doll? You can try to play the brat, but deep down, you know what you want. You want me to be in charge, to take control and make you feel good. And that's exactly what I'm gonna do.”

"Good luck... with... that." You wanted to continue with your little game but his proximity had your resolve faltering. 

Bucky chuckled at your attempt to keep up this charade, but he could see that your resolve was weakening. Your body was responding to his proximity, betraying your act of nonchalance.

He leaned down, his lips grazing your ear, his breath hot against your skin.

"Doll, you forget who you're dealing with," he murmured. "I've got you all figured out, and I know all your weaknesses. You can try to resist, but deep down I know you're craving my touch, begging for it, in fact.”

"So what are you gonna do about it?" you challenged softly.

Bucky's eyes darkened at your challenge, his smile turning into a predatory grin. He knew damn well what he was going to do, and he was aching to show you just how in control he was.

"Oh doll, don't tempt me," he warned, his voice low and husky. "I can think of plenty of things I could do to a disobedient little brat like you. But I think you'll find it hard to keep up this act when I've got you pleading and begging.”

"Oh please, I can do this all day.”

Bucky chuckled at your defiant words, taking in your flushed cheeks and breathless state. He could see the effect he was having on you, the way your body was responding to him, even as you tried to keep up your act.

"Is that so, doll?" he taunted. "You think you can keep this up all day, huh? We'll just see about that.”

For the first time since you started this game, you held your tongue. You welcomed whatever punishment he had in store for you... you craved it.

Bucky smirked at your sudden silence, sensing the shift in your attitude. It was clear that you were finally submitting to him, and he loved it. He could see the desire in your eyes, the need for him to take control and give you what you wanted.

"Looks like someone finally realized who's in charge," he murmured, his hands roaming over your body, tracing gentle patterns on your skin, his touch both soothing and dominating.

"Ready to be a good girl and do as you're told?”

"No," you breathed softly.

Bucky chuckled at your persistence in playing this game, his eyes darkening with a mixture of annoyance and desire. He knew you were testing his limits, seeing how far you could push him before he snapped.

"What do you mean, no? If I want my dick in your mouth, it's going in your mouth whether you like it or not.”

You shuddered with anticipation. Of course, you wanted his dick in your mouth. Bucky smirked, noticing the shiver that ran through your body. He could see the desire in your eyes, the way your tongue darted out to moisten your lips, betraying your own need for him.

"I see that got your attention," he murmured. "You want me to use that pretty mouth of yours, don't you?”

You struggled slightly under his weight. Bucky laughed at your attempts to move under him, the sound deep and throaty. He knew he had you right where he wanted you, trapped beneath him. 

"Struggle all you want, but you're not going anywhere until you're dripping with my cum.”

Bucky chuckled at the pout on your lips, but he allowed you to prop yourself up on the lounger, his knees still trapping your hips on either side. The position he had you in was intimate, his cock was almost pressed against your face, his eyes locked on yours, his hands resting on either side of your shoulders, caging you in.

Bucky loved having you like this, so vulnerable beneath him but his body completely at your mercy.

Bucky's eyes darkened as he watched you lick your lips, the gesture driving him wild. He could see the need in your eyes.

"You want it, don't you?" he asked, his voice heavy with desire.

"Only because you want it so bad," you smirked, your eyes roving over his throbbing length. He had pulled it out of his swim trunks, the veins full and pulsating readily. "Look at you, can't wait, can you? Need my lips around your pretty cock?”

Bucky nearly lost his breath at your words, his body shuddering with need. You knew just how to play him, how to push all his buttons.

"Damn doll," he groaned, his voice ragged with desire, momentarily forgetting his character. "You talk like that, and you're gonna make me lose control. But yes, I need your lips. I need your mouth on me. I need you, doll.”

You softened a little, wanting to give in without a fight, to give him what he craved. But a tiny voice in your mind reminded you that this would be so much more fun.

A slow smirk formed on your lips. "Make me," you said with as much defiance as you could muster.

Bucky's eyes darkened with annoyance and desire at your disobedience once again. He loved the challenge. The way you tested him pushed him to the edge, but it was hard to hold back when you were so goddamn sexy.

"Oh doll, are you really gonna push me like that?" he gritted out, his voice strained as his hands clenched into fists at his sides. Slowly, he reached out and made a fist in your hair and moved your face right up to his with his firm grip. "Head back, mouth open, tongue out... now.”

Slowly but petulantly, you complied, letting him slide his head onto your tongue. Sensually, you rolled it around the edge before kissing the tip. You loved seeing the way his muscles contracted with pleasure.

Bucky's head fell back slightly, his eyes fluttering shut momentarily, a moment of ecstacy coursing through him.

"That's it, that's my good girl. Now you remember what to do if it's too much?”

You nodded, tapping his thigh three times, making him praise you again. You took him into your mouth again, lips forming an O. Narrowing your eyes, you looked up at him with a hint of rebelliousness and daring.

Bucky's eyes darkened at your gaze, his breath hitching in his chest. He wasn't used to anyone giving him this level of sass, and it was driving him crazy. 

"I see you're still feeling mouthy. Looks like I'll have to find a way to keep that pretty little mouth of yours occupied.”

You decided to show him how mouthy you could be, letting him slip further into your mouth.

Bucky's head slumped back, his breath coming in short bursts as you teased him. Damn, you were so damn good at this, and it was driving him wild.

"That's it, doll. Just like that, that's my girl. You know just what I like.”

You tried to answer him, but you couldn't form any coherent words with the way he filled your mouth.

"What's that, doll?" he chuckled despite his ragged breath, a hint of pride in his voice. He loved making you speechless, especially with your mouth full of him.

"Can't talk now, can you? You look so pretty with your mouth all full.”

You moaned, sending vibrations straight up his aching cock. The way he tasted always turned you on and your pussy was begging for attention. You squeezed your legs together to offer yourself some relief from the throbbing between your thighs.

Bucky groaned, your moans resonating through him, shooting straight through his body. It was like a jolt of electricity to his nerves, and he had to grit his teeth to keep control. 

"Ah darlin’, you know how that mouth of yours is affecting me," he breathed out, his eyes darting down to your squirming form. "Damn doll, you look like you're aching for something.”

Finally, you sank down all the way, your nose brushing the short strands of hair on his skin for a moment before pulling off with a gasp, a long string of spit connecting your lips to the tip of his cock.

Bucky could hardly think straight with the way you were working him over. It was a good thing he was sitting down because he wasn't sure if he'd be able to stand right now. 

"Damn doll," he breathed. "That mouth of yours is something else. But did I tell you you could stop?”

"It's my turn, Sarge.”

Bucky's eyes darkened, his breath hitching in his chest at the title. Something about you calling him by his rank made him a little weak.

"I don't think so, doll," he warned. "You know who's in charge here, and I haven't given you permission to take it your turn yet. You gotta earn it. You're gonna follow my orders.”

You whimpered softly, so turned on now that you couldn't think for yourself.

Bucky's eyes scanned over you, taking in your flushed and panting form. He could see the way you were responding to him, how your need was taking over and making it hard for you to think.

“There’s my good girl,” he murmured, his voice silky smooth. "Now open that pretty mouth and stick that tongue out so Sarge can fuck your face.”

You followed his orders without question, tilting your head back and sticking your tongue out as far as it would go. Seconds later Bucky was shoving his fat cock between your lips, thrusting his hips until the head of his dick was hitting the back of your throat. You did your best to suck around him, hollowing your cheeks while your tongue lapped up every drop of precum leaking from his tip. One of your hands braced on his hip while the other came up to play with his balls as he grunted softly with your ministrations.

Bucky was losing it a little more with each passing second. You were so damn gifted with that tongue of yours, and he wanted to come inside you.

“You’re gonna make Sarge come,” he moaned. So did you, right around his cock. “Bet you'd like that, huh?” His hips thrusted deeper into your throat and you felt tears pricking in the corners of your eyes. “You wanna taste me?”

You gazed up at him with desperate, pleading eyes, and he responded with a dark, mocking laugh.

“Too fucking bad.” He grunted, pulling himself from your mouth as his eyes fluttered shut while you were left panting and speechless.

“Ruined that chance,” he continued. “Show me those gorgeous tits. You want me to make sure they're protected from the sun? I can cover them in cum and you won't have to worry about that any more. How does that sound?” 

Bucky's hands moved to rest on your shoulders, firmly pushing you down onto your back, his body hovering over you, trapping your wrists above your head in his hands. His cock resting between your breasts.

“Is that a nod, doll? You gonna let me come on your tits?

"No,” you answered, rather weakly.

He chuckled, but there was an edge to it, a hint of a warning.

"Oh go on now, get me off, darlin'.”

You struggled slightly in a weak attempt to free yourself from his grip, to take what you wanted.

"Struggle all you want, doll. But you're not going anywhere 'til you're dripping with my cum," he muttered darkly from above you.

This man and his filthy mouth. The way it had you squirming, panting. You could feel the heat pooling between your thighs. The need for him to take you was overwhelming. Your body writhed beneath his, your aching pussy silently begging to be filled.

"Aww look at you all stuck," he laughed. "You're dripping wet, aren't you? You might as well tell the truth because I'm going to fucking check anyway.”

"Go on then.”

Bucky smirked, his eyes darkening with a familiar look. He loved this game, the push and pull, testing your limits and seeing how far he could go.

"You sure?" he asked, his tone taunting. "You want me to touch you, make you squirm even more than you already are?”

"Please..." the word slipped from your lips before you realized what you were saying.

Bucky's eyes darkened at your whimper. He could always tell when you were starting to let your guard down, when you were giving up the fight. It made him want you even more.

"Please? Look at that, you're begging now, doll. You need me, don't you?” He asked, gently thrusting between your breasts.

You whimpered softly. There was no denying it, you wanted to be touched, you wanted him to fill you up, you didn't want to wait. 

Bucky could see the look in your eyes, the desire that had taken over and left you a needy, begging mess. He loved seeing you like this, completely under his control, waiting for his touch.

"You're starting to be a good girl now, huh? I knew you would give in eventually. You just need a little push, don't you?”

"The only thing you should be pushing right now is little Sarge inside me.”

Bucky chuckled deeply. Damn, your filthy mouth was going to be the death of him.

"You're getting cheeky, doll. You won't be getting that anytime soon until you learn some manners.”

"You gonna teach me?" you smirked.

Bucky's laugh was dark and dangerous. "You're just asking for it, aren't you? But I'm gonna have to teach you a lesson, doll.”

You just gave him a long, silent look, slowly wetting your lips.

Bucky's eyes tracked the movement of your tongue, the way it glided over your full lips. You knew exactly what you were doing to him, and he was loving every second of it.

"You're playing with fire, doll. I don't think you realize just how much you're testing my control right now.”

"Show me.”

Bucky's breath hitched at your words. The challenge in your voice, the slight attitude behind your words. He loved it.

"You really want me to show you?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous. "You want me to lose control? You think you can handle that?”

"You think you've been in control all this time?”

Bucky actually laughed at that. You were trying so hard to regain a little bit of power, to knock him off balance and turn the tables. But he could see through it all.

"Don't act like you haven't been the one begging for it this whole time, doll," he smirked. "You've been desperate for my touch, my attention, my control. And you know it.”

"Then do it.”

"Oh, doll, you're so impatient," he taunted. "Don't worry, I'll take care of you, just the way you need. You'll get your fill, but on my terms.”

He moved down to kneel between your legs.

Bucky knelt between your legs, his body towering over you as he settled in. He could see the way your breath hitched, the way his presence alone was affecting you.

"You good, doll?" he asked, his voice low and sultry, "You ready for this?”

You smiled at your boyfriend, something had suddenly shifted between you, teasing put aside, your closeness and intimacy taking over as he hovered against your entrance.

Bucky froze for a moment, his eyes softening as he saw the change in you. He knew that feeling all too well, that moment when playfulness gives way to something more tender and true. He met your gaze, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"You look so beautiful, doll," he murmured, his voice gentle. "I love you so goddamn much.”

"Love you too, Buck," you whispered.

Bucky's heart filled with warmth every time he heard you say those words. It was a moment of vulnerability, a reminder of the love and trust that existed between them.

He leaned down a little more, his body pressing against yours, the tip of his hard length resting against your entrance. He could see the love and longing in your eyes, and he wanted to make you feel good.

"Are you ready for me, doll?" he asked.

"Always ready for you, Sarge." You spread your legs, inviting him in. 

Bucky darkened eyes sparkling with affection. He loved that nickname, the way it sounded when it left your lips.

"There's my good girl," he praised, his fingers caressing your skin as he positioned himself at your entrance. "I'll take care of you, doll. Just relax and let me make you feel good.”

You panted softly as his thick cock filled you, the glorious stretch of your walls as he pushed into you making your eyes roll backwards. The first movement was slow, cautious, and almost gentle, giving you the chance to accept him. He kept going until he was fully seated inside you, his nose not even an inch away from yours. 

Bucky was in ecstasy, there was nothing quite like the feeling of your body wrapped around him. It was like coming home, a moment where he was yours completely, where he felt safe and accepted.

Bucky could feel your body twitching beneath him, begging for more. He knew he couldn't hold back any longer, the need was too strong.

The moment of stillness was just long enough to let the realization sink in that they were truly connected, body and soul. Bucky was fully lost in the moment, the heat and the sensations that were coursing through him. He needed more, needed to feel those highs, those peaks. He needed you.

"I need you, doll," he managed to gasp out, his voice gruff and raw, "Can I move?”

You nodded fervently.

Bucky could sense the pleading in your eyes, the unspoken plea for him to take you, make you his. His hands moved to your hips, holding you firm while he pulled out and then slammed back into you hard, a groan leaving his lips.

"Damn doll," he grunted. "You feel so good.”

"Ohhh, Buck." You moaned, no other words were left in your vocabulary as he pounded in and out of you, the sound of your skin slapping together almost drowning out the waves crashing on the beach.

The sound of your voice, the way you said his name, it drove him wild. He knew he couldn't last much longer, not when you were looking so damn beautiful, lying under him, taking every inch of what he had to offer. 

"That's it, doll. M'close.”

You weren't too far off either, not with the way that his tip brushed your A-spot before he pulled out, dragging over your sensitive G-spot. You moaned salaciously as he pushed up your thighs, burying himself deep inside you with each thrust.

Bucky was barely holding it together anymore, the need to make you fall apart first was the only thing keeping him from letting go.

You reached down to touch your clit, to speed things along so you could keep up with Bucky. Bucky's hand shot out, stopping you quickly.

"No, doll," he said, his voice firm. "You don't touch yourself unless I give you permission. That's my job. Understand?”

You whined softly, in the midst of your pleasure, you'd forgotten to keep up your act.

Bucky saw the look of frustration on your face and knew you had slipped. He couldn't help but chuckle softly, even as he was on the edge himself. 

"That's right, doll," he teased. "You forgot who was in charge here, didn't you? But don't worry, I'll remind you.”

He thrust into you harder, pounding into you so hard that you weren't forming any coherent thoughts. The familiar feeling was building rapidly inside you. "Buck," you moaned, as if the sound of his name would communicate what you were feeling.

Bucky recognized that sound, the way you were begging him, calling his name. He knew you were close, right on the edge of falling apart. He didn't let up, keeping that hard and steady pace. 

"Yeah, doll," he grunted, "You're gonna come for me, aren't you?”

Your fingers tightened around the towel that was still hanging on the side of the lounger as you whimpered.

Bucky could see the way your body was tensing, the way your grip was holding onto the towel for dear life. He knew he was pushing you to the limit. He wanted to see you come undone. 

"That's it, doll. Let go for me, I want to feel you squeezing me, come on, be a good girl for me and come.”

"Oh fuck!" The words tumbled from your lips as waves of pleasure crashed over you.

Bucky felt your body convulse around him as you came, and it was all he needed to tip him over the edge. The way your walls squeezed around him, milking his throbbing cock, sending fireworks shooting through every nerve in his body.

"Buck-uhhhh," you panted as your body relaxed, coming down from your climax.

Bucky collapsed onto the lounger next to you. He was panting, his breath coming out in gasps. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer to his chest, tucking your head under his chin.

"Damn, doll," he whispered, his voice hoarse. "That was something else.”

"Aww baby, did I make you all weak?" you smirked into his chest.

Bucky chuckled deeply, shaking his head slightly. "Don't get cocky, doll. I still got plenty of stamina left." He nipped playfully at your ear, his hand trailing down your side.

“I'm still waiting on that suncream, Sarge.” You gathered some of his cum that had trickled down your thigh onto your fingertip and held it up. “Not sure this is gonna cut it.”

Bucky growled, his eyes narrowing. Suddenly he scooped you up in his arms and carried you to the end of the pool.

“Bucky!” you shrieked. “Don't you dare.”

“I think you need to cool off.” The grin on Bucky's face was positively smug.

You wrapped your arms tightly around his neck and gave him a warning look as he threatened to throw you into the pool.

“Don't,” you said warningly.

Bucky chuckled, turning around and held you closer. You were about to sigh with relief but the glint in his eyes betrayed his intent. You gasped as he took a step backwards sending you both tumbling into the pool with a huge splash!

[ladythornofrivia]

Lady with Teal Eyes || Aemond x Aunt!Hightower Reader (Part Two)

word count:

author’s note: writing more chapters of a sad dragon family series. I’ll be on a Norwegian cruise line for Italy and Greece for 2 weeks. I’m gonna be seasick, I already know it. So I’ll be writing this series before I leave. Please enjoy and have a good day.

warnings: incest, cockwarming, teasing, sucking, p in v, rough play, flirting, wholesome moment, jealous aemond, possessive, roughness, mild manhandling, mild degradation, unprotected vaginal sex, oral sex, second hand embarrassment, dark content, mentions of su*cide, Aemond being too touchy with his aunt, degradation, humiliation.

summary: Aemond meets his aunt for the first time, and there’s more than meets the eye. (there will be three parts).

The preparations for the celebration of King Viserys has reached closer whilst you accompanied Alicent into the corridor, corridor after corridor of a long tour within the Red Keep. Servants bowed as you all passed. Cold bows and cold eyes lingered, despite their bare minimums of smiling graciously at your direction, as Alicent presented the halls with lavish decor. However, mostly it was green and gold. But others blended it with black and red.

As always, you’re marveled by the exquisite lace and embroidered patterns and a clear structure of its final design of artwork is invigorating. The stitching is what you’re most impressed of.

As all Targaryens and Hightowers strolling, Alicent parted ways with her children, unbeknownst to you, the one-eyed prince had his hands behind his back, violet shade of eye looming over your new gown designed by the seamstress, all soft-shaded periwinkle, strapped with gold embroidery and green and red, streaks of iridescent shun upon sunlight, your manes healthy and glowing, maintained through and through.

You knew he was watching. With his precious one violet eye gleaming at the back of your head, your body shivered in an alien sensation. As for Aemond, a dragon’s hunger is anything but stable or sane. A dragon’s hunger is like a breath of wild fire casted to the torch of the wondrous nature and life itself. The fire eats and leaves the bones of ash, dwindling in midair.

Aegon I altered the history and thus, House Targaryen must stand with unity and strength and blood.

Still parted aways after an idle chat, for Alicent to task with decorations, as her children were long gone, back into your large chambers, you were unpacking your materials for the completion on a quilt, a quilt with colorful dragons and mermaids and ships, various shades of sews and needles unpacked, as the back of your neck tingled with goosebumps as you felt a hot breath stroking.

Before you turned around, large and slender hands travelled over your clothed waist, nearly close to your chest above. A writhe of hot tingle rushing in your coils and chest. A quiet breath strained, lax down to a low hiss, a hiss nearly tickling your skin. No servants were around, no Alicent or Gwayne.

Aemond, a one-eyed prince has lurked and captured you. A princess sent by a Maiden herself. The fiery dragon must seize the princess.

You thought he has gone back to training yard with Ser Criston, as Alicent mentioned once at the entryway within a prolonged conversation.

“Aemond—”

His face inched close to yours, his supple and pretty lips touched your cheeks, trailed down to your jawline, whilst his left hand grasp your face to stay still. The pool between your legs gradually strengthened its warmth and slick, easily for the prince to prance and insert into your tight hole. Under the layers of silk dress, Aemond bunched the layered fabrics to your waist.

You never had a noble taken an interest in you. The only that interests them is the brightness of your teal eyes.

A mesmerizing glow of your hues has yanked his curiosities. His mother never mentioned him about you—not even once in a dubious talk.

Better late than never.

With his hand, fingers strapped, and his trimmed nails clutched the fabric of your corset, the laces loosener it in smooth motion, loosening around your frame, breasts ached as his hand—his cold hand—brushed and pinched your nipple while his other hand found his way your thigh, grasped as Aemond’s tongue flicked and his lips pressed a chaste kiss to your clit.

A moan escaped, your mouth shielded, you face drowned in flush, as Aemond’s heart leapt in satisfaction. Humming, he stood up and inserted his fingers into your cunt, thrusting the fingers in with doubled speed as your moans grew louder, but restrained the pleasure into your chest, holding it. The walls in the Red Keep are dire; servants and nobles and guards walked passed and patrolled through wall and doors. Even the highest nobles strolled by.

“Fuck,” is all he said, as if it was a prayer. “Your cunt might be as Holy as the Maiden herself.”

His lips sucked your swollen tit.

“My prince,” you cried softly. “Please. The guards, my brother and sister will see us.”

“I do not care of their pious thoughts.”

“I’m your aunt, my pri—”

“Don’t fight it, my sweet,” he said, giving a sensual flick on his warm tongue to your swollen flesh, “I might give you a reason to have bruise on you, ones that they’ll never find on your skin.” His hands grasped your waist, trailing with soft strokes. “You’re humiliated. Maybe there’s more than meets the eye.”

Based on his words, you never thought you found it attractive, considering the soft spoken voice, hoarse with arousal.

“Don’t fight it. If you fight against this, this subtle encounter between us, you’ll never forgive yourself,” he whispered, his wet lips brushed yours. “If you have been, you would shoved me away. Would you like that, princess? Shoving me away?”

His voice ragged dampened your cunt and clit twitched at his sound.

“Seems you enjoy it. You’re a good princess. But alas,” he pulled himself afar, the warmth on your body began to turn a chill.

“I shall see you at the feast. Enjoy your stay.” His neck went for a stiff bow, but his eye glued with plea for your consideration of his statement, whether you accept his offer or not, and departed your apartment—a once organized structure is now filled with clutter and oozing sex and the arousal groans you shared has imprinted in your head, you find yourself still with embarrassment.

In a way, a blessing in disguise when no one, not even Gwayne, saw or heard your affairs with a young dragon prince.

You have seen the arrival of Rhaenyra and Daemon and the children, you had a short introduction to all Black faction.

The dinner celebration for Viserys’s nameday celebration has been all but cumbersome. You felt a subtle hostility, but to due your presence, it has lessened but somewhat guarding up—all due to pettiness.

As you, making a progression with your father, it was all but cold distance even you and Otto were near. Not once he looked at you with adoration like he shared his adoration with Princess Helaena, showing her teal beetle. The Green children are all strained; Aegon had his fair share of capable stupidity to throw down a nasty comment of his cousins and nephews.

Daeron was disappointed with Aegon’s perversions, but Daeron veered at you with a kind smile and made a polite conversation with you. Once again, Otto did not acknowledged of your accomplishments. You felt sick in the stomach, and it’s not your bright gold and yellow dress you have finished making. Tears behind your eyes was arising, and your throat budged with hot and parched sting.

Aemond clenched his fist, for his anger was directed at his grandsire for not noticing you. That damnable old fool—if only Otto sees how your talents. When Viserys disregarded Aemond, even his siblings, he wanted nothing more than to see him dead. But alas, with your existence, it’s almost as if Viserys’s existence just naturally died out.

You pardoned yourself, and Alicent thereby dismissed you, you bowed and left to your chambers, spent the rest of the night weeping, thinking what have you done wrong.

As you exited, the tensed feeling withdrew, and Otto was happy again. And so, without a doubt, Aemond gave a good jab on Otto, which caused a disastrous supper for everyone. The music stopped. As for Aegon and Daemon, they found it amusing while Alicent ordered the guards to escort Aemond way back to his chambers.

For Aegon, this was a win for him. He’s not in trouble for once.

~~~

In dreams, you have never seen your mother, what she appears like or what she sounds like or how her personality was. The only thing that is closest to being a mother to you is the wetnurse or the servants or the Septa who provided you with assistance on your daily appearances and wisdom. Whenever a servant brushes your hair, you often think of what it feels like to have a mother brushing your manes with care and doting manner, a soft voice to soothe your aching heart, where doubts and fears would go away.

In times of sleep, you often thinking of ending your life, just to see your biological mother on the other side. Or perhaps more than just seeing your mother. There are times where you hated your life, and you want nothing more but to end it.

People have often told stories of your mother, though it felt it was a grave mistake. Some say she fled away to Free Cities, some said she ended her life from the highest tower of Oldtown and fell down to the sea. There are rumors where Otto took you because you’re adopted, or perhaps he had a secret, illicit affairs.

The cold feeling rushed in you as your eyes pricked with tears. With somebody telling you stories of your late mother, it brought no peace. Only the enigma of your shadowed doubts and an endurance of chaotic insanity, to question whether your life is real, if you’re real in this world with purpose.

The servants have been kind to you more than the nobles, the more everyone pointed out your flaws and the insignificance of your existence, you lead to believe that you’ll never be loved.

And cried once more. Each night, your tears flooded in pillows and blanket, as you embraced the closest object, pretended that it’s your late mother. An endless of an anguish thought has been a hazard.

Only the echoes of the walls could hear you and the pillows has stained, under your hug squeezed the material as hard, wishing for the pain to go away.

In his awake, he’s a perfect prince, but in his dreams, he’s a beast.

A beast kept within a shell of a noble man.

He has dreamt of your teal eyes basking in his dark dreamland, your voice, how it was yearning so much more. A dark dreamland filled with scornful memories of his nephews and Aegon, and the pink dread. He had kill all of them in his dreams, even the fat pig.

With a scolding from his mother, he couldn’t care less. He wanted your presence to be acknowledged by your father, but how can Otto be so cynically dimwitted and more offensively calculating against you?

When the servants spoke over how you’re not related to Alicent, chances are why Otto was pretending that your presence is nothing more than a useless and meaningless substance of meaning to exist.

Others said that they haven’t seen you gone out from your apartments—and that was recent.

Aemond visited you, presented you with a gift, but the word from you not leaving the apartments has concerned. Thus his mind came up an idea.

You have several servants entering the room with stack of your favorite meals and drink—including lemon cakes and Dornish wine.

One knows someone’s best interest. Whoever did it, your heart is elated. As soon as Aemond came in, you hadn’t known whether he knew something that you don’t. Somehow, his intimidating presence softens your heart, prickled in relief.

For some reason, when Alicent paid you a visit, although shortened, she was concerned of your health, you hadn’t formed a proper conversation; Alicent hasted when the Council has called for her summon, but gave her regards.

Aemond accompanied you for a while in your apartments, and chat whatever discussion came up. Each minute and each hour, the two of you became close, became so close that you or him hadn’t open your hearts, despite what he did to you days ago. With your cunt coiled at his face, his voice and neck, his waist, you find yourself crossing your legs, aroused and squirming beside him. You wondered and imagined of Aemond’s tongue guiding and gliding your soaked cunt. At this moment, you wanted tackle him and suffocate him with your legs wrapped around him, taking in of your nectar.

“I’m glad you are doing well, princess,” Aemond said to you. “For I have been concerned of your well-being. A delicate flower such as you does not deserve the cruelty of my grandsire or anyone in the matter of your visit.”

“He’s always been difficult,” you explained. “No matter how much I’ve improved with my skill, he’ll never sees as his or my sister’s equal.”

“In ways my mother and grandsire are more intolerable. Though I respect my mother, I find myself with bore with my grandsire has to say. If anything, I’m glad your presence has casted a light into the dread.”

In Aemond’s case, however, found you as exquisite as gentle as the blooming flower. His one took a longer glimpse at you and notice the difference—how your eyes glinted in glee while your cheeks adorned with youthful flush and enamored smile. Oh so pure and harmless. He hasn’t seen his mother and his siblings. As for Otto, he hasn’t spoke to him since supper at Viserys’s nameday after sending a jab across the face—out of character for a self-assured prince.

Oh, to ruin you.

“Thank you for the meal, Prince Aemond. You don’t know how much I’m relieved to say this,” you said as you finished the embroidery on your unfinished dress you sewn.

Aemond found your gowns just as otherworldly as you.

Consequences won’t matter; Viserys nor anyone else in the room care for his presence. Perhaps it is a blessing, perhaps it is for the best for you to be settled here in King’s Landing, as long you’re in content, nothing else matters, but if harm does come, he shall smite the immoral act. Aemond is no perfect, but with you, he’d be at his best behavior.

“Then I shall relieve you,” he proclaimed.

You find yourself halted at his declaration and glimpsed at his resolved expression.

Something has stirred in your heart that you wanted more than the civil interactions, wanted more than having someone to converse with you.

Tossing and turning onto your bed was all but a doozy. Dizzy from pivoting and switching positions, you had enough. Dreams had come again. This time it’s Aemond calling out to you, feasting on your wet folds and pumping his lithe and graceful rugged fingers in you. Ever since the day before Viserys’s nameday, with Aemond’s thirst, your legs ached.

For a Hightower, it’s a sin to self-pleasure one’s body—a selfish immoral act.

Somehow you found it odd. If a man does self-pleasure, no court would turn the eye, but a woman does self-pleasure with hasting fingers and naughtiness is considered dire.

Faith of the Seven had their own laws, but you knew that men and women had their fair share of illest secrets. Lucky for you, Alicent and everyone in the Red Keep does not know your impure thoughts. The room became hot, then cold, then all at once, the breath in your lips became ragged and desperate. You wanted someone to hold you, treasure you, seduce with sweet nothings and sweet promises with adore.

For your years of not having a partner, you have begun to fear of not having pleasure. In the heating moment, you thought of what’s like losing your maidenhood to someone with a big cock.

You wanted a cock.

His cock.

Oh, a dragon prince. If Aemond hears your thoughts, you’d run away and never to return Westeros and give yourself a new name and fashion.

Damn the consequences and the punishments from the Lord Hand and the Queen themselves! Damn the Faith of the Seven and their laws!

With your fingers circling your clit, no climax arrived. Thus, you casted your blankets aside with a huff, setting out to see him.

Trudging through the dark halls, the guards were nowhere to be found, assuming the guards went elsewhere. As you made your way to the doors, you approached and entered the chambers where you have found Aemond on his bedside.

Your breath held back, taking in at the sight of Aemond. With his porcelain skin and his long silver-blond hair, it gleamed under moonlight, appearing paler compared to daylight. His eye had an old scar, and his eyepatch was placed elsewhere.

Watching his body rising and falling within breath, you approached him and kissed his back, planted your light kisses, feeling the smooth surface of his skin.

Aemond awoke and turned, found you kissing his back.

“My lady,” he whispered, one eye widened, as you stare at his sapphire. It was beautiful like him.

You placed your finger on his lips.

“Have you come to made a decision?” he asked.

Your lashes fluttered under his gaze. “What do you think, my prince?”

Then your lips collided with his. Aemond was taken aback of your sudden act. Eventually, his consciousness fell; with his lips shared an illicit chaste kiss, his hands uncloaked you, and roamed on your womanly body, caressing you, until you began to undo his trousers, his cock hardened.

“This won’t take long,” you promised, slowly pinning him down onto the pillows, unstrapped yourself naked and sat in between his legs. You didn’t expect for his cock to harden.

Your eyes darted to his, awaiting. And thus, you yanked his trousers downward, unveiling his hardened cock. You eyes widened at the sheer size. Your maidenhood hasn’t been taken yet. Your future prospects of marriage hasn’t arrived, but it feels as the more you wait, the more your chances of marriage dimmed. With your body descended, the maidenhood had met his engorged tip.

Aemond lay still, watching you. His sapphire eye gleamed at its victory.

Your voice moaned aloud; your maidenhood slammed down, his engorged cock tightened on your damped walls. Gradually, the pace on your hips sped. You have never felt anything as good. Prayers in the sept are insatiably helpful compare to the prince’s cock.

You have never felt so alive.

Aemond knew you’re a virgin; your hips bounced all thanks to the guidance of his hands.

He pleasured a woman in the brothel in the Street of Silk at the age of three-and-ten. As a young boy, he regretted making a decision by making himself a fool to go along with Aegon and his shenanigans. He was expecting Viserys to guide him gently into the world, but the Driftmark incident has left Aemond concluded that Viserys, his father, did not spare a single kindness or thought and only spared it Rhaenyra and her sons.

All hope was lost until he saw you—a radiant maiden.

You reached your high, as Aemond clutched your hips, spurring down the hot semen bursting the inner walls—a divine conclusion.

Gasping for air, your legs stood achingly, leaving white traces of his semen dripping down on his balls and thighs. When Aemond tried to assisted you, but instead his face met your open legs and slammed your went against his chiseled face and nose.

Fuck my maidenhood, you thought, desperate, as your hips gyrated, feeling his warm tongue and the sharp line of his nose encouraged your arousing sense to further the climax, as your right hand found its way at the back of Aemond’s hair.

Aemond find himself humming against the warmth of your cunt, mingling with his semen. It was a divination, nothing like the brothel. If only his virginity had taken by you instead of a woman who hasn’t live up to her beauty and standards of gentile and grace. Streets of Flea Bottom aren’t to be trusted. His lips kissed your inner thighs, gliding his tongue, and pumped it in between your walls.

Groaning, almost feral-like, your hips paced, your tits bouncing as your walls grew hot again.

“Relieve me,” you said to the prince, hoarse. A soft squeak caught into his ears.

I shall relieve you, my sweet. Just as I promised, he thought.

Your hips gyrated harder, until the spurring had come close; hot liquid squirted on his face as Aemond’s tongue lapped on your cunt faster than last. Your head threw back with his languid strokes on his warm tongue.

Gods it was a miracle.

He has taken your maidenhead.

“Good boy,” you cooed, your breath rasped, your hand still placed on the back of his long silver-blond hair, gyrating your tired hips against his face.

Both you and Aemond found yourselves in elation.

“Good boy.”

Taglist: @toodlesxcuddles @kittendoll05 @omgsuperstarg @xcharlottemikaelsonx @paninisstuff @danika1994 @angeljcca @marvelescvpe @kukulyarva @namelesslosers @heavenly1927 @snh96 @fandom-maniac-anime @httpsmenace @velunis @domithebomi @moonseye @faesspace @rxixo31 @tm-starr @xinthia19 @halsteadstyles @lothiriel9 @liannafae @ammo23 @blackswxnn @buccini555 @watercolorskyy @taangie @qardasngan @justyelena @jolixtreesunn @runekisses @thought--bubble @remuslupinwife1 @evergreen9083 @foggypeacestarlight @dixie-elocin @galactict3a @momowhoo @saturnssrings @dani5216 @kimsubin05 @mylosz0 @blackgaladriel @valeskafics @liannafae @theboleyngirlx @syraxnyra @lothiriel9

[nahoney22]

One Night With Royalty***

🫧 Pairing: Prince Rex X Female Reader

word count: 3.5k

prompt:

“Can you be good for me?”

Summary: When the Prince Rex is admired by your beauty, he takes no time in taking you by your hand, offering you a dance and perhaps offering you a little more.

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ only. AU fic. Cinderella Inspired. Explicit Sexual Content and Language, Dirty Talk, Praises, Face Sitting, Oral Sex ie Cunnilingus, Creampie, P in V Sex, Soft!Dom Rex, Female Reader Wearing a Ball Gown (your choice of colour), Reader Flees at Midnight.

Authors Note: I loved this idea anon! Fitting with the theme of Cinderella I’ve also done it that Reader leaves at midnight same as the film for ✨ drama ✨ i hope this is okay and you enjoy 😊

Entering the palace was like stepping into a realm of enchantment. With each stride you took brought forth a spectacle of grandeur that left you breathless. At first, you thought maybe it was the mountain of stairs you just had to climb in heels that had the wind knocked out of you but it was the crystal chandeliers that illuminated the vast expanse of marble floors with a soft, ethereal glow that had you captivated.

The soft hue casted intricate patterns of light that danced in harmony with the melodies of the orchestra; an unfamiliar sound to you. Not only that, but the air was a symphony of laughter and conversation, carrying with it the mingling scents of exotic flowers from an array of different planets.

The sights of Princesses, Noble men, Senators, and Jedi alike moved gracefully, their elaborate gowns and finely tailored suits exuding an air of regal sophistication. Making you feel like you stood out like a sore thumb as you navigated through the ballroom. Holding onto your dress to avoid tripping over yourself, you couldn't help but marvel at the sight of sparkling tiaras and impeccably polished shoes from the guests.

Despite the overwhelming opulence surrounding you, a nagging doubt lingered in the back of your mind - "I so don’t belong here…"

With a twist of fate and defying your disapproving family who didn’t even want you here tonight, a stroke of luck shined your way. But you couldn’t even think about that right now. You just wanted to take this all in.

Though all eyes were eagerly awaiting the arrival of the Prince Rex - the main reason for the ball - your focus remained captivated by the beauty of your surroundings; caught in a reverie. It hardly felt real.

Overwhelmed by it all, you sought for a moment of calm in the serenity of the outdoors. The far left door beckoned, leading to a spacious balcony offering a panoramic view of the landscape bathed in the stunning glow of a deep purple sunset.

As you stood there, momentarily lost in the beauty before you, a voice shattered the tranquility, causing you to startle. Turning, your eyes widened in astonishment as the Prince himself stood before you.

The tales of his valour in the Clone Wars had preceded him, his attire matching the hues of his armor - a finely embroidered doublet of blue and white. And the praise regarding his looks was indeed warranted, as he was undeniably handsome. It felt like a crime to even look at him.

"Beautiful, isn’t it?" His voice was soft, his gaze kind as he regarded you.

"Yes, it is," you replied, your voice betraying a hint of nervousness as you instinctively dipped into a formal address, feeling suddenly small in his presence.

His smile was warm, his demeanor charming as he took a step closer, one hand casually tucked behind his back. "I hope you don't mind me coming to say hello. I noticed you when you entered and realised you were alone."

You struggled to comprehend how he could have singled you out amidst the bustling crowd, let alone why he would choose to engage with you. "Not at all, Your Majesty," you managed, your words tinged with a mix of surprise and admiration as you offered a quick curtsy.

He chuckles, laughter almost was infectious, his eyes sparkling with amusement as he drew nearer. "The pleasure is mine," he replied, his charm putting you at ease.

Stopping before you, he extended his hand with a gallant gesture. "Will you do me the honor of having the first dance with me?" he asked, his gaze unwavering.

Caught off guard, you stared at his outstretched hand, then back up at him, a mixture of disbelief and elation flickering across your features. "I...I would be honoured," you stammered, finally accepting his offer, your heart racing with excitement as you took his hand.

As the Prince led you back into the ballroom, this time to the dance floor, you couldn't help but notice the hushed gasps and murmurs that followed your entrance. You chew on the inside of your cheek as a sense of unease crept over you, a stark reminder of your perceived insignificance among the sea of nobility and royalty.

Sensing your trepidation, the Prince offered a comforting squeeze of your hand, his reassuring touch momentarily easing your nerves. With a subtle nod, he guided you to the center of the room.

As the orchestra resumed its melody, the Prince's gaze met yours. For a moment, there was a glimmer of something unmistakable flickering in his eyes. There was a hunger there, one that sent a shiver down your spine.

With each step, the Prince's presence enveloped you, his firm yet gentle touch guiding you effortlessly across the ballroom floor. As you stole glances at the onlookers, their reactions ranged from smiles of admiration to expressions of confusion and even disdain. You’re nervous, the weight of their scrutiny threatening to dampen your spirits, but the Prince's reassuring voice cut through the noise.

"Ignore them," he murmured, his breath warm against your ear. "Look at me."

You tore your gaze away from the judgmental stares, focusing instead on the Prince's intense eyes that seemed to hold a world of secrets. Yet, despite his attempt to shield you from the prying eyes of the crowd, you couldn't shake the gnawing feeling of inadequacy that lingered within you.

"I..." You hesitated, the words catching in your throat as you struggled to articulate the turmoil churning within your mind. "I can't help but feel... out of place."

The Prince's brow furrowed with concern, his grip on you tightening ever so slightly as he sought to understand your inner thoughts. "What are you thinking? If you do not wish to dance just say. I will not take offense," he observed, his voice tinged with genuine curiosity.

You swallowed hard, the weight of your insecurities threatening to overwhelm you. "It's just... I know why this ball is happening. You're seeking a companion, marriage. Someone who is worthy of your stature and position. And yet, here I am, dancing with you, unable to offer anything of value."

Your confession hung heavy in the air, the vulnerability of your words laid bare before him.

“So you are not a Princess or a Senator?” The Prince's unwavering gaze held yours, his question hanging in the air with a weight that made your breath catch in your throat. As more guests joined the dance, their attention momentarily diverted.

Summoning your courage, you met his gaze head-on. "No, Your Majesty, you are not mistaken. I am neither of those things."

For a moment, silence hung between you, the weight of your admission settling over the space like a heavy fog. Then, unexpectedly, he chuckles.

"May I tell you a secret?" His voice was low, conspiratorial almost. Anyway, it was enough to draw you in with its intimacy.

Intrigued, you raised an eyebrow, silently urging him to continue. "Of course," you replied, your curiosity piqued.

"I do not wish to marry. Not yet, anyway." His words were like a revelation, catching you off guard and causing your mind to reel with disbelief. "It is simply my duty. I did not want this Ball to take place knowing I had to marry a stranger."

The two of you danced more together, neither of you seeming to want the music to end. But there was something now different in the way he held you.

His touch was possessive, almost afraid that you were going to slip away from him at any point or have another man come and take you from him. His movements deliberate too, each step charged with an unspoken intensity that left you breathless.

The Prince's hold on you was undeniably suggestive, his every movement a tantalising invitation that stirred something primal within you. You felt foolish for getting so heated by him but there was a curious thought in your mind.

“Why have you asked me to dance with you if you’re not looking for something?”

Your question hung in the air, heavy with uncertainty, as you searched the Prince's eyes for answers. His hand, once intertwined with yours, now caressed your cheek with a tenderness that elicited an audible gasp from your lips, your eyes fluttering shut at the unexpected intimacy.

As his fingertips brushed against your skin, a rush of sensations coursed through you, igniting a fire that seemed to burn hotter with each passing moment in the bottom of your stomach. How could a simple touch evoke such a visceral reaction?

"Who says I'm not looking for something?" His words, laced with suggestion, sent a shiver down your spine, your eyes snapping open to meet his gaze once more. You saw the hunger in his eyes, a desire that started to mirror your own.

Heat rose to your cheeks, the feeling of his touch sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. "I cannot lie and say that's not flattering," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper as his hands trailed across your body with an intimacy that left you stunned.

Leaning in close, his lips mere inches from your ear, he whispered words that sent a jolt of electricity straight between your legs. "Have you ever been with royalty?"

With a sense of excitement, the Prince guided you through hidden corridors and secret passages, away from prying eyes and into the seclusion of his personal chambers. Each step was imbued with anticipation, yet you were eager to see what was to happen.

As he opened the door, granting you entry into his private domain, you couldn't help but marvel at the sight before you. The tapestries that draped the wall, the size of his bed… all of it. But before you could fully take in your surroundings, the Prince stepped up behind you, his hands finding purchase on your hips, his lips brushing against your ear in a gesture that sent shivers down your spine.

"Do you want to do this?" His voice, soft yet commanding, filled the room with an intoxicating allure that left you breathless.

"Yes, Your Majesty," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper, your desire evident in every trembling breath.

"In here," he murmured, his hands trailing down your back as he began to slowly, deliberately, undress you. Each touch sent shivers of pleasure coursing through your body that has your knees shaking, “you can call me Rex.”

As the fabric of your dress fell away, leaving you exposed in your corset and undergarments, a flush of heat flooded your cheeks at the Prince's appreciative gaze. "You are beautiful," he whispered against your skin, the warmth of his breath making your head roll back and rest in the crook of his shoulder. His lips found your exposed neck, gently kissing along your skin that makes you whimper under his touch.

Your body tingles with anticipation as Rex then led you to his bed. As he sat down, his gaze roamed over your form with a soft smirk, his eyes locking with yours in a silent exchange of desire.

Bringing your hand to his lips, he kissed over your knuckles softly that sent a jolt of electricity straight to your core. "Can you be good for me?" he whispered, his voice thick with lust.

“Yes, Rex,” you replied, your voice husky with longing. “Anything for you.”

"Good girl," he murmured, his words sending a thrill of anticipation coursing through you as he quickly undressed you until you were now fully nude, him following suit before he reclined on the bed, his eyes never leaving yours. The air crackled with tension as you crawled towards him, your movements deliberate and sensual.

As you drew closer, his lips met yours in a passionate kiss, igniting a firestorm of desire that threatened to consume you both. His lips were warm and delicious, tender and precise whilst his hands roamed over your body with an urgency.

But then, with a subtle command, he guided you into position, his gaze smoldering with desire as he whispered, "I wish for you to sit on my face."

A smile of anticipation spread across your lips, your eyes shining with desire as you straddled his face, feeling the heat of his breath against your skin. With a low moan of pleasure, you lowered yourself onto him, the sensation of his tongue exploring your cunt sent waves of ecstasy coursing through you.

"You taste so fucking good," he moans into your heat, his tongue working wonders as it explores every inch of your dripping arousal. Gripping your thighs firmly, he holds you in place, his determination evident in the fervour of his actions.

His hand roams upwards, teasing your sensitive skin until it finds purchase on your breast, kneading and pinching your hardened nipples. “R-Rex,” you whine beautifully, gazing down at him between your legs, his brown eyes staring back at you with desire as he sticks his tongue deep in your hole; the noises lewd, sloppy and messy

Feeling bold, you begin to move your hips, grinding against his face with increasing urgency. "That's it, ride my tongue," he encourages, praises, his words muffled by your slicked cunt that sends vibrations through your core.

You're on the brink of ecstasy after a few minutes, your body trembling. "I'm gonna cum, Rex," you moan, your fingers brushing against his buzzed-blonde hair as he pushes you closer to the edge with his expert ministrations.

"Go ahead, cum for me," he demands, his grip tightening as he doubles his efforts, pushing you over the edge into a euphoric release. With a satisfied groan, he laps up your essence, savouring the taste of your pleasure.

As you catch your breath, he guides you onto his lap, his solid cock pressing against you. "Are you ready for more?" he asks, his lips brushing against yours, his desire evident in the hunger of his kiss. “You’ve got such a beautiful pussy… I just need to bury myself inside you.”

Your mind is reeling from the intense pleasure coursing through your veins as Rex's lips devour yours, leaving you yearning for more. “Yes, yes fuck me please!”

He grins against your lips and flips you over, positioning himself above you, anticipation coils in the pit of your stomach. His cock presses against your slick folds, the size both intimidating and exhilarating. "You're so big, Your Majesty," you purr in desire.

"I told you," he replies softly, his breath hot against your skin as he begins to ease himself inside you, eliciting a hearty groan of satisfaction. "Call me Rex."

With each inch of his length filling you, a symphony of pleasure floods your senses, driving you to new heights of ecstasy. His hands grip the sheets beside you, his movements deliberate and controlled as he savours the sensation of being buried deep within you.

"Stars, you're tight," he murmurs. "It's been so long for me..."

You offer no words of reassurance, only the soft sounds of your moans and the tightening of your legs around him, urging him to delve deeper into each moan you make.

His pace starts slow but then quickens quickens, each thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. "You've got such a lovely cunt," he coos, his eyes locked on the intimate union between your bodies, his cock glistening with your slick arousal. "You feel so good."

"M-More, I need more, Rex," you whimper, your body arching against his, desperate for the relentless rhythm of his thrusts.

With a deep grunt, he obliges, his movements becoming more urgent and rough as he plunges into you with unrestrained passion. "Beautiful," he praises, his voice thick with desire as he loses himself, gazing into your brown eyes.

The room fills with the sounds of passion, the air heavy with the scent of sweat and lust. Your body is ablaze with desire, every nerve ending ignited by the intoxicating pleasure of Rex's touch. With each thrust, he elicits a chorus of moans and gasps from your lips, driving you to the brink of madness.

"Fuck, you feel incredible," he groans, his voice a husky whisper against your skin as he buries himself deeper inside you, face buried in the crook of your neck as he practically folds you in half. "So tight and wet for me, just begging to be fucked."

Your breath catches in your throat at his words, the sheer intensity of his desire sending shivers down your spine. "Yes, Rex, please," you whimper, your voice a desperate plea for more of him, more of the overwhelming pleasure he brings.

He responds with a sigh, his movements growing more urgent and desperate as he seeks to fill the hunger that consumes you both. "You're driving me crazy," he confesses, his voice raw with need as he loses himself.

You want more. You need more. "Harder, Rex," you beg, your nails digging into his skin as you urge him to push you further, to take you to the edge again.

With a fierce determination, he complies, his thrusts becoming one again rougher and more intense as he drives you towards the pinnacle of release. "You're so fucking beautiful," he growls, kissing your neck before resting his forehead to yours, locking gazes. “You look so cock-hungry.”

It was sudden, your orgasm hitting you like blaster-fire. With a shared cry of release, you surrender to the overwhelming tide of pleasure, your walls contracting on his cock.

You screamed his name, grasping at his body desperately as he gives strained grunt before he spilled deep inside you. He holds you tight, still slowly thrusting in and out, and you kept clawing at his back, murmuring incoherently.

Rex soon stops, staying inside you as you just laid there together, catching your breaths. “You are wonderful.” He murmurs, kissing your lips softly.

You smile lazily, your legs still twitching as you slowly come down from your high, gasping quietly as his softening cock slips out of you.

“May I draw you a bath?” As Rex offers to run you a bath, he covers you with a part of his duvet and you can’t help but feel touched by his consideration for your comfort, and a blush warms your cheeks at his respect for your dignity.

"I feel like I should be asking you," you chuckle softly, meeting his gaze. "After all, you are the Prince. But I'd like that, if you don't mind?"

"I would not have offered otherwise," he assures you, placing a tender kiss on your cheek before retreating into the refresher, the sound of running water filling the silence.

Alone in his room, you allow yourself a moment to reflect on the whirlwind of events that led you here. You had only wanted to have a bit of fun tonight, sneaking into the Ball without your family's knowledge and experiencing just splendor, only to catch the eye of the Prince himself. And what followed was beyond your wildest dreams. He had been kind, sweet, and utterly captivating.

But reality soon creeps back in, reminding you of the inevitable constraints of his royal obligations.

With a heavy sigh, your gaze lingered on a clock and your eyes widened as realisation hit. Time is slipping away and you must leave—fast.

Hastily, you gather your clothes, struggling to dress yourself. The intricate laces of your dress prove to be a challenge, and frustration mounts as the seconds tick by.

The sound of your hurried movements catches Rex's attention, and he emerges from the refresher, a quizzical expression on his face. "Is everything alright?"

"I..." you falter, meeting his gaze, the softness and confusion in his eyes tugging at your heartstrings. He looks almost like a wounded creature, not wanting to see you go. "I have to leave. But I've had the most magical night, Your Majesty."

As you turn to leave, a pang of regret grips you tightly. "Wait! I... I don't even know your name," Rex calls out, his voice laced with a hint of shame at his oversight, mentally cursing at himself for never asking. Supposedly it was because he felt like he did know you.

But time is against you, and you have no choice but to flee his chambers, leaving his question unanswered. With an apologetic glance over your shoulder, you bolt from the room, your heart pounding in your chest as you navigate the labyrinth passageways of the palace, praying you remembered the way he led you in.

Meanwhile, Rex scrambles to dress himself, his mind racing with thoughts of you. He curses his own foolishness for not asking your name sooner, knowing that now, you're gone, slipping through his fingers like sand.

As he races down the stairs of the palace, clothes askew and heart pounding, he scans the darkness of the night, searching for any trace of you.

All he has now are the memories of your eyes, the warmth of your touch, and the lingering scent of your lips to remind him of the moment you shared.

But Rex is determined. He will find you again, no matter the cost.

Masterlist

Tags: @littlefeatherr @kaitou2417 @eyecandyeoz @captxin-rex @jesseeka @theroguesully @ladykatakuri @arctrooper69 @padawancat97 7 @staycalmandhugaclone @ko-neko-san @echos-girlfriend @fiveshelmet @dangraccoon @plushymiku-blog @chrissywakingup @pb-jellybeans @nunanuggets @sleepycreativewriter @erellenora @zippingstars87 @ezras-left-thumb @the-rain-on-kamino @lamiliani @tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo @therealnekomari @tech-depression-inventory @brynhildrmimi @greaser-wolf @tinyreadersmur @kaminocasey @marvel-starwars-nerd @ladytano420 @ladyzirkonia @thesith @raevulsix @cw80831 @knightprincess @crosshairlovebot t @whore4rex @imperialclaw801 @temple-elder @mysticalgalaxysalad @yunggoblin @lulalovez @thiswitchloves9904

[artficlly]

smog & spirits [masterlist]

Marvel 1920s Gangster/Peaky Blinders Inspired Fantasy AU

gangsterboss!bucky x witch!reader

Bucky Barnes, the leader of Sootstone's Smog Boys, needs a favour. A nasty curse has been cast on him, and he needs a witch to help him break it.

Warnings: 18+ content minors dni, smut, fem reader, begging, orgasm denial, fingering, p in v, no aftercare, graphic wound description, blood/gore, graphic descriptions of stitching, religious punishment (lashings), angst, angst no comfort, comfort/fluff, sex magic, blood magic, potion for arousal, curses and hexes, criminals & crime, 1920s street gangs, witchcraft, possession, mediums, ghosts, hauntings, horror, smoking, brothels, pubs, gambling, alcohol, mention of death/violence/torture, bucky barnes has issues, bucky barnes is a dick, bucky barnes needs a hug, police brutality, vaguely british setting??, sexism, classism, no use of y/n, lmk if i've missed anything

main masterlist

CHAPTERS [4/10]

spirit-raiser pony club the premonition bloodties

[4ln-stay8]

A ski trip to remember

>sumarry: Lando went to a ski trip with you, Max and P but it doesn’t turn out the way he expected

>author’s note: not my best work but hopefully not my worst

>warnings: none i think

In the picturesque snowy mountains, you and Lando joined Max and Pietra for a ski trip. You were not familiar with skiing, opting to play in the snow while trying to persuade Lando into tubing.

You couldn't help but marvel at the snow-covered landscape. Lando, Max, and Pietra were eager to hit the slopes, but you were hesitant, having never skied before.

"I think I'll just enjoy the snow here, guys. Skiing seems a bit daunting." you said nervous

Lando, was always up for an adventure, he was always in for the adrenaline. You were the complete opposite. You loved adrenaline when you were confident in your safety, but skiing doesn’t feel that safe to you.

"Come on, baby! It's not that hard. You'll love it once you get the hang of it." said Lando trying to persuade you

"I'd rather stay on solid ground, thanks. But hey, how about we go tubing together? It's fun and way less intimidating." you exclaimed trying to find other winter activities you could do together

Lando rolled his eyes, dismissing the idea. He just wanted to enjoy the things he loved to do while he was on the well deserved break from his job and you suggesting to do other things even for once didn’t seem pleasing at this point.

The season was stressful for him, starting at the lowest point possible and fighting with whatever he had to be as close to the top as he could. He just wanted to recharge and relax and have fun, but he was too eager to enjoy the trip that he forgot to include you in it.

"Tubing? Seriously? That's so childish. You should've stayed home if you're not going to participate. Who comes on a ski trip if they don’t even ski?" He said annoyed

Feeling a bit hurt, you decided to stay back at the hotel and enjoy the snow on your own while the others had fun skiing together.

“Yeah well… uh… I’m gonna stay here while you guys enjoy the skiing” you said, your voice barely above a whisper

Lando just nodded and left with your friends up the mountain as you stood there thinking of ways to make the time pass.

You decided to take a leisurely walk, capturing the winter wonderland with Lando’s camera. However, your excitement turned to dismay when you found yourself slipping on ice.

"Ouch! This wasn't part of the plan." you said trying to cope with the pain

Unable to stand up, you called the hotel reception for help. An employee came to your rescue in short time asking you about your situation.

“Bonjour madame, what is the problem?” said the employee in a french accent

“I slipped on ice and my leg hurts. I can’t get up!” You said as tears slowly fell on your cheeks

“I’ll have a look” he said and started to check on your leg

The concerned employee arranged for you to be taken to a nearby hospital. At the hospital, you learned that your leg was lightly broken. With a cast on your foot, you returned to the hotel, hoping that Lando wasn’t at the hotel yet.

Meanwhile, Lando, Max, and Pietra returned to the room, oblivious to your misadventure.

“Today was epic babe! You should've joined us, Y/N. You don’t even know what you’ve missed” exclaimed Lando enthusiastically as he walked in the room

You appeared from the corner with crutches, and gave them a small and embarrassed weak smile.

“Well, I’m glad at least one of us had fun.” You whispered loud enough for them to hear

Lando's eyes widened as he met your body. He rushed to your side, concern evident in his eyes. You looked at him then at your friends who were just as worried as your boyfriend.

"What happened baby? Are you okay?" said Lando trying to check if the rest of you was fine

“How did you manage to injure yourself?” Asked Max concerned

You started to explain the mishap, Lando and your friends listening carefully to your story. “I went to look around trying to make some photos and I slipped on ice. Apparently I broke my leg a little” you said avoiding everyone’s eyes

"I should've been there with you. I'm sorry for calling you childish. This is all my fault. Let me help you, okay? I’ll make it up to you!” Exclaimed Lando, his voice a mix of regret and concern

“Hey, it’s not your fault that I slipped. It wasn’t nice of you to speak to me like that but this isn’t your fault.” You reassured him

“I’ll stay in tomorrow so I can take care of you” said Lando, a serious expression present on his face

“You don’t have to. I can take care of myself! Well… mostly!” You exclaimed not wanting Lando to spend the rest of the trip looking after you

“No baby! You are hurt and it’s my job to take care of you!” He tried to make a point but you disagreed

“You’re not wasting the trip just because I’m clumsy! Do that and I’ll never forgive you!’ You said firmly

“But…” he got interrupted by you before he could properly begin his sentence

“No but! It’s enough that I made the trip less fun because I’m afraid to try skiing. I refuse to make this even worse by having you take care of me! You guys go have fun while I get some nice time inside” you said smiling softly knowing that whatever you will do inside will be boring as hell

“You didn’t made things less fun Y/n! We were just to excited to ski that we made this trip less fun for you” said P with a sympathetic voice

For the rest of the trip you stayed inside while Lando and you friends would go outside and have fun. Lando was on the phone with you as much as he could try to involve you in the fun activities.

The trip was filled with a mix of laughter, concern, and a newfound appreciation for each other's choices. The unexpected turn of events brought the group closer, making the ski trip a memorable experience for everyone, especially for you.

[saintmurd0ck]

cherry red

masterlist

pairing: frank castle x f!reader

summary: you and frank break into a vintage car dealership to scope something out for agent madani, and it turns out that you have a little time to spare before the drop happens

warnings: mentions of cocaine (no drug use), breaking and entering, the FBI lmao, shameless flirting, calling frank big boy, pain kink if you squint, (very little) spit because how else do you up frank's pleasure *gunshot*, unprotected p in v, creampie, goodbye i'm going to bed

a/n: for everyone who agrees that frank should be called 'big boy', this is for you!!! also this is my first full length frank fic lets fucking go

There’s not a sound but the rustle of your clothes as you case the dealership, Frank following closely behind you. He looks over his shoulders—a cautionary measure, despite the fact that the owners are on the other side of the world—before thumbing at the light switch on the wall.

Fluorescent lights flicker on in stages, a steady, low hum of electricity filling the space. Your eyes squint as you adjust to the brightness.

Frank looses a bated breath. “Holy shit.”

“Holy shit,” you affirm, casting your gaze across the almost-cavernous, windowless room. Rows and rows of vintage cars stare back, their timeless, luxurious finishes glinting in the white light.

“That’s gotta be worth more than…” you trail off, looking down at your hands.

“Twenty-two million dollars. This room alone,” Frank finishes.

You swear, stepping forwards to skim your fingers along a chromed side mirror, then bending down to check your reflection. “So what are we looking for again?”

Frank sets his duffel bag down onto the reception desk, careful not to disturb the fanned business cards adorning the surface. “Guns, coke, contraband,” he lists. “Whatever we can find.”

“Hmm.”

“What?” Frank asks, bewildered. His attention snaps to you.

“Is there a car in particular we’re looking for?”

“Honestly sweetheart, I dunno. If we gotta sweep every single one, that’s what we gotta do.”

You push up off your knees, weaving in and out of the cars. “Before the auction, yeah?”

“S’right,” he grunts, pulling out a silver crowbar. “Smart girl.”

Ignoring the heat now searing your face, you focus on trying to name the cars, although you really only recognise a few of them.

Your eyes warily glaze over a black 1962 Chevrolet Corvette, its headlights polished to perfection. Next to it there are a number of vintage Ferraris, one Aston Martin, and a newer model Rolls Royce in the corner.

But one car in particular snags your eye, knocking the breath from you.

Frank whistles. “She’s pretty.”

You shoot him an incredulous glare, slightly offended he’d say that about the car and not you.

He’s not wrong, though.

It’s an old Mercedes. A 1961 Roadster, you think, marvelling at the almost pearlescent ivory paint restoration, the perfectly polished hubcaps, and the smooth leather interior of the deepest cherry red. You’re transfixed as you hear the engine in your mind, the revving beneath your feet, feeling the phantom breeze ruffling your hair as you speed down the highway with no destination in mind.

“You know what I think?” Frank says, clearing his throat, but you’re caught in your fever dream, music blaring from a shut-off radio that’s only active in your head. “I think…” he trails off, voice dropping to a bare whisper.

You whirl around as a loud clang drags you back to the present, one of the gleaming Mercedes-Benz hubcaps laying flat on the ground.

“What the hell, Frank?” you glower, eyes widening.

He responds with a grunt as he moves to the driver’s side, leaning his bodyweight into the crowbar as the next hubcap pops off.

Your hands fly to your face as he continues to move around the car, vandalising it beyond—

Oh.

The corners of Frank’s mouth curl into a wry smirk. “Fuckin’ knew it.”

He motions for you to come over, using his crowbar to pry out several small, duct-tape-wrapped packages from inside the wheel. “Dumbest fuckin’ hiding place I’ve ever seen.”

He pats the passenger door. “Gotta give it to ‘em, though. Moving drugs through cars at an auction? It’s a Ponzi scheme, but a goddamn good one.”

“This what I think it is?” you ask, crouching down next to him, irresolutely turning one of the bricks over.

He nods, pulling a knife tucked into his boot before sticking it into one of the packages. He dips his hand into the opening, rubbing what looks to be a white powder in between his fingers.

“Time to call Madani,” he grits, placing the brick back on the ground. “Could you do that f’me, sweetheart?”

Biting your lip, you pull out your phone to dial Madani’s number, wincing as Frank digs out the rest of the cocaine from your beloved Roadster. In eager anticipation, she picks up after the first ring, and the drop is arranged for 2.30 AM.

That leaves you thirty minutes to spare.

“So, Frank,” you remark, tucking your phone back in your pocket, “do we need to check any of the other cars?”

He sets the crowbar on the ground, getting up to lean against the front passenger side door. “Nah,” he replies, folding his arms across his chest, “FBI’s problem now.”

The growing smile on your face turns suggestive. “Guess we have time to kill before they show up, hm?”

Frank cocks his head. “And what’s that supposed to mean, sweetheart?”

You stride towards him, reaching out your hands to uncross his arms so they lay straight at his sides. Trailing the tip of your index finger up his chest, you circle the outline of his mouth. It catches on his bottom lip as you drag it back down, and he shudders at the lightness of your touch.

“Wouldn’t you like to know, big boy?” you grin.

He moves off the car, rolling his eyes as you saunter to the driver’s side, brows furrowing as you go to unlatch the door. The red leather is cool beneath you as you slide in, hands instinctively going to grip the wheel. Imagining the engine roaring to life, you press your foot down on the accelerator, as far as it’ll go.

“You’re playing with me, aren’t you?” Frank chuckles, running a hand through his hair.

“Maybe,” you muse, aware of the mischievous glint in your eyes. “If that’s something you want.”

“You haven’t had any of the white stuff, have ‘ya? ‘Cause you’re sure acting like it.”

“Dick,” you swear. “We’re surrounded by nice cars, Frank. How do you expect me to behave?” Taking your hands off the wheel, you twist in your seat to face him. “Surely they’d have the keys here somewhere, right?”

He scoffs. “Yeah, like they’d keep the keys to a four hundred thousand dollar car here.”

“Awww,” you pout, “but I wanna go for a ride.”

Frank’s ears perk up. “S’that so?”

You lean back against the seat, running your tongue over your lips. “In this car.”

“What, and you think I can help with that?”

You bat your eyes at him. “Don’t get too flattered, but I think you’re the only person in the world who can help with that right now.”

“Right now?” he shoots back. “Just right now, huh?”

“Shut up and get over here before I rescind my request, Castle.”

You don’t think you’ve ever seen him move that fast, because he climbs into the passenger side, scrambling to get you on his lap.

“C’mere,” he murmurs, hands finding your waist, guiding you back and forth over his hardening cock. His breath fans your neck as he nips at your pulse, spreading his legs apart on the seat.

You tip your chin downwards, your lips messily crashing into his, his mouth—his body—warm and supple against yours. He shifts his hips, slotting himself between your thighs and into the one place you need him most. At this rate, the friction of your clothing is almost too much to bear, but you’ve always been one to toe the line between pain and pleasure.

Especially when Frank’s involved.

Your body clenches as he palms your clit, groaning your name into your skin, etching kisses along the curve of your jaw. He skirts the hem of your top, slipping his tongue into your mouth before lifting it over your head, leaving it in a scandalous pile on the driver’s side.

“Naughty girl,” he laughs dryly, adding your bra to the pile along with his own shirt. “Tell me this isn’t what you thought of first when you saw the car.” He stiffens as you catch his bottom lip with your teeth.

“Don’t tell me you aren’t enjoying it,” you croon, the jovial note of your amusement diffusing itself into the vast space of the dealership. Your fingers roam along the plane of his stomach, feeling his abs contort underneath your touch. “Pretty boy.”

Resting his hands on either side of your spine, Frank swipes his thumbs over your nipples, intently staring as you throw your head back, rolling your hips into his. You squeeze your thighs into his sides as he seals his mouth over one of your breasts, flicking his tongue over the pebbled flesh.

“Bruise—“ he groans, his voice caught in a hoarse whisper. Oh, right, you remember, looking down at the purple splotch stretching across the ribs on his right side.

But you don’t let up, not when he’s driving you mad and touching you like this. You dig your knee into the bruise lightly, waiting for his body to seize, for his panting to echo before putting it back down on the seat.

“You’re a fuckin’— animal—“

Something compels you to do it again, but he slaps your leg away, retaliating by sinking his teeth into your shoulder. You cry out his name, the echo of it thundering in your ears.

“Dick,” you gasp, slamming your palms into his chest. You gripe at the fact that he loses himself in a quiet sort of laughter, and that he’s all chiseled muscle and not putty in your hands.

“You insulting me or s’that what you want?”

The mirthful gleam in his eyes flicker as he looks you up and down, waiting for your next move.

“Fine,” you say, a little too scornful considering the situation you’ve found yourself in, moving to undo his belt. Pausing once to take your own pants off, your fingers move deftly to unbutton his jeans before you tug them down and off his legs. Not taking your gaze off of him, you brace one hand on his shoulder while the other slowly creeps up his thigh.

Frank squirms beneath you, his lips pressing into a thin line as you cup his balls. Your breathing turns shallow as you wrap your hand around his shaft, running your thumb over the precum glistening on the head of his cock.

“Fuckin’— shit—,“ he hisses as you squeeze him. You hinge forward to nip his earlobe, to whisper filthy nothings in his ear, but he bucks his hips upwards, almost reflexively.

And that is something too good to pass up.

“Feel good, Frankie?” you ask, moving to stroke him up and down, ensuring your pace is just shy of what he likes on himself.

“Mm—“

“I think this’ll feel better,” you interject, pausing to spit on his cock.

Frank’s mouth parts in a wide groan at the added lubrication, and the way you’ve so brazenly spat on him, narrowly missing the priceless cherry red leather. Not that having sex in this car isn’t already brazen to begin with.

Clambering back onto his lap, you nudge his cock into your opening, coating him in the slick of your arousal. You press your face against his cheek as he pushes himself inside you, moaning into his mouth at the sensation of his thick head stretching you out. It burns, but it burns so fucking good.

He grits his teeth as he eases you down on him, guiding you inch-by-inch until you're so full you can barely breathe, your core tightening to the point where you wonder if he can feel pleasure at all.

He reminds you that yes, in fact he can, because he's cursing under his breath, gripping the dashboard so goddamn hard you think he might leave half-moon marks in the shape of his nails. He jerks his hips into yours, driving himself so deep you see stars for a second, whispering into the trance of your intimacy that you're his girl and that you feel so fuckin' tight he might burst at any given moment.

Now accommodated to his size, you fling your arms around his neck as you begin to move, resting your forehead against his. You roll your hips in languid, circular motions, fingers curling in the short hair at the nape of his neck.

"God fucking damn, Frank," you whimper, switching to bounce on his lap, holding onto the top of the seat for extra support. He sends you into a catatonic state of delirium as his thick cock hits deeper in this position, and soon you're squeezing around him, crying his name and falling over the edge of satisfaction.

Frank buries his face in your tits as you collapse onto his chest, your body still moving to the rhythm pounding inside your head.

"Hey, hey sweetheart," he says gently, moving to caress your jaw. "You okay?"

You flash him a weak smile, holding out a thumbs-up. "Keep going, Frank. M'not done yet."

"You sure?"

Raising your hips only to slam them back down on his seems to give him the reassurance he's seeking. Thrill shoots up your spine as he pulls you into him, wrapping his arms around your waist.

His tone is nothing short of wicked. "I do as I'm told, yeah?"

He drills himself into you, setting a ruthless pace, mouth roving over every accessible inch of bare skin. You thank every god you can think of for making this place soundproof, because the two of you would be so incredibly dead if anyone could hear the sounds coming from your mouth.

You fall apart on his cock more times than you can count, burying your face in his neck as Frank's thrusts become more erratic and sloppy, his strokes faltering with every passing second.

"M'gonna cum for you," he groans, throwing his head back against the seat and lurching his arm towards the top of the windscreen. He presses one last open-mouthed kiss to your collarbone as his hips stutter, spilling every last drop inside you.

"Fuck," he whispers, his cock twitching as you finally muster the energy to get off of him. He looks down at himself, horrified, and you follow his eye line to the mess on the seat between his thighs.

You choke, caught between a laugh and a gasp, equally panicking at how you're going to clean it up and possibly more importantly, how Madani isn't going to figure out what you've just done.

"Guess we can call this hard evidence for the FBI?" you sputter, trying your best to swallow your growing smirk.

Frank's cheeks turn red as he blows out a breath. "S'alright. This belonged to an asshole and it was gonna be bought by an even bigger one." He shrugs. "If I can't put 'em down, this is the least they owe me."

"You know Frankie, sometimes your logic is flawed, but I think you're right on this one."

He goes to smack your ass, but as you pull your panties on, your phone lights up in the footwell of the car, its shrill ringtone deafening to your ears.

MADANI

You glance at Frank, a humorous expression dancing across your face. "Good timing, huh?"

"Ain't that right."

tags {x} for all my frank girlies!!! <3 (I'M SORRY IF I FORGOT SOMEONE I'M SO NOT OK RIGHT NOW)

@marvelswh0re @murdock-and-the-sea @itwasthereaminuteago @munsonownsmyass @reborn-rekall @castlesnchurches @chellestrash @darlingshane @chvoswxtch @stress--relief @pedrito-friskito

[truetogaia]

mihihihih look at him snuggling hes so adorable

pairing: jake x na'vi!reader

genre: fluffy smut, 18+

notes: I'm back in my soft jake brainrot era and so obsessed w the "morning lovers" theme ARGH!!! My main thought is dilf!jake but yall can imagine whatever version u want :)

warnings: EXPLICIT AND MATURE THEMES, p in v, v penetration, foreplay, no protection, no pull out oopsies.

word count: ab 1k!

!NOT PROOFREAD! I Jake sully masterlist!

The warmth of the morning sun enveloped the two of you where you laid, snoozing in a loving embrace. Rays of light painted your skin with golden spots as they crept in through the cracks of your secluded hut. Your home. A very loved home, where you and your beloved resided, and in which the two of you had shared many precious memories. 

Your eyes fluttered open as a light beam hit your face, pupils dilating and contracting, struggling to adjust to the brightness. A strong pair of arms were wrapped around your middle, slightly restricting you as you moved to stretch your sore, aching muscles. You groaned as you stretched out fully, failing to ignore the pain.

“Damn I must’ve tired you out real good last night, hm?” Jake’s croaky voice startled you. He chuckled at your expression, mouth slightly agape, lips puffy in that “newly woken up” kind of way. A warm smile settled upon your features as the two of you relished in this tender moment. Arms and legs intertwined, chests rising and falling synchronized, eyes sharing that feeling of deep love and endearment. 

Jake placed a light kiss on your nose, bringing his hands up to gently hold your face as he peppered it with kisses and pecks, making you squeal and squirm. His hands wandered down your form, until they found their resting place on your hips. 

“You’re so beautiful,” His mouth traveled to your jaw as he spoke, voice raspy from just waking up, “so amazing,” his kisses trailed down your neck, turning sloppy, “so soft.” 

His sudden affection caused a heat to set between your plush thighs, your need for him growing rapidly with every sloppy kiss pressed onto your burning skin. His hands wandered further down, gliding across your smooth skin. You felt his digits ghost over your inner thighs, then tracing a line down the center of your clothed cunt. He slipped one finger beneath the fabric, moving it to the side to slide a digit through your soaked folds. 

“Damn, I’ve only kissed you and you’re already this wet? My poor sweetheart.” He cooed, placing a kiss to your temple before moving his fingers to rub circles onto your neglected clit. Your slick quickly coated them, earning a chuckle from your dear mate. “Haven’t even touched you that much, and you’re almost ready to take me. Such a needy girl, yeah?” Jake slipped one finger inside of you, then added another one as your soft moans grew in volume. 

He couldn’t help himself, your sweet noises and the sound of your squelching cunt played like a soft melody in his ears. He quickly undid his loincloth, removing yours equally as fast. 

“Jake, calm down. I’m not going anywhere.” A giggle left your lips, before they met his in a sweet kiss. He groaned into your mouth, slightly taken aback. Now it was your hands wandering, down his tummy, over every curve of his muscles. He pulled away to gasp as you wrapped your warm hand around his rock hard cock, pumping it in a painfully slow pace. 

Jake placed his hands on your shoulders, carefully moving you to lay back. He hovered over you, eyes laced with love as he marveled at your beauty, completely enthralled by your features. 

“I love you,” He kissed your cheek lovingly, “so much.” A doting smile graced your features at his affection. You cupped his face, bringing him into another kiss. His hand wrapped around his length, pumping it a few times before he brought it to your wet entrance. Jake gently placed a hand under your thigh, casting your leg on his broad shoulder.

He pushed in slowly, tip first, relishing in the way your hot cunt enveloped him, kissing and nipping at your inner calf. He sank into you, letting your velvet walls mold after the shape of his cock. You hummed as he bottomed out, eyelashes fluttering as you adjusted to the intrusion, ears twitching at the sensation of him stretching you out. Oh, but it was delicious, the way his cock fit perfectly, like he was made specifically for you. 

“I love you too, my pretty boy.”  

He beamed at the nickname, beginning to move his hips, bucking into you with languid and tender movements. Gently cupping his face, you brought him into a sloppy kiss, his cock thrusting in and out of your squelching heat. Your moans were muffled by his soft lips, working on yours, swallowed up by his tongue which was eagerly exploring your mouth.

He broke the kiss to get some air. Truthfully, he wished he never had to pull away for air, he wanted to kiss you all the time. Oh how he loved you, his beautiful mate. Your noises were soft, quiet moans escaping your plump lips with every rhythmic buck of his hips. He smiled as his soft gaze wandered, taking in every curve that formed your body, the pattern of your stripes, the placement of your glowing freckles. 

“Damn, princess, you’re a pretty lookin’ thing.” 

You giggled at his teenage behavior, feeling a familiar knot begin to build in your abdomen, growing bigger as Jake pumped his length into you. You reached for him, wrapping your arms around his neck, and then you heard it. A low, rumbling sound coming from somewhere deep within him. He purred as you ran your hands along his back. Nobody had ever purred in your company before. 

Your focus shifted as Jake’s thrusts became sloppier, growing lazier as he, too, came closer to his release. 

“Shit, ‘m g’nna cum, baby. Y’close?” You couldn’t speak, couldn't utter a word as immense arousal and pleasure coursed through you. “Yeah I bet you are.”  Jake’s cock prodded at your g-spot with every languid movement, every grind into your hips. “So, so pretty.” His digits found your neglected bundle of nerves, the pad of his thumb now rubbing you in sync with his sensual thrust. 

“Hmmn Jake..” The knot in your abdomen finally snapped, slick gushing out of your poor, throbbing cunt. Jake followed suit, spilling his warm seed into you, overwhelmed by the way your pussy clamped down on his cock. He kissed your forehead as he pulled out, falling into you as you opened your arms to him.

As both of you came down from your highs, limbs tangled in a warm, sticky embrace, you suddenly remembered the noise he made. Deciding to ask him, you looked down, only to find him snuggled up on your chest, breathing heavily. He was asleep. 

[kingsonne-zedecks]

It's Here!

Cradle Animation Trailer

The trailer for the upcoming animation of the bestselling novel series Cradle, by Will Wight, produced by Jay Oliva at Lex + Otis Animation Studio has been released at last!

Cradle

Cradle is an amazing fantasy series by author Will Wight that reached its conclusion with the publishing of Book 12: Waybound, in 2023. Cradle is a western interpretation of the Xianxia genre, which can be described as "Magical Martial Arts."

As shown in the trailer, Cradle follows the journey of Wei Shi Lindon as he starts a journey of growth rather than remaining the weak Unsouled that his Clan has labeled him.

Fans of Naruto, Demon Slayer, Dragon Ball, Avatar the Last Airbender and more will all find elements from the stories they love in Cradle.

Lex + Otis Animation Studio

Cradle is being animated by Jay Oliva and his studio, Lex and Otis. If you don't recognize the name, you'll probably recognize some of his past work, particularly his work with DC Animations in general and Batman in specific.

His studio is equally impressive, and released a bit of a showcase of some of their more recent work that you can see here (in addition to the Cradle teaser, you did already watch that a couple of times right?)

The Cradle animation is a passion project for Jay, who loved the books so much that he reached out to Will to make sure that he had the chance to see them brought to the screen.

The Cast

The upcoming animation already has a fantastic cast announced, with more to come. The following have already been confirmed for the project.

Travis Baldree

Phil Lamarr

Steve Blum

Matt Mercer

Morla Gorrondona

Baraka May

Sumalee Montano

Maxine Phoenix

Matt Yang King

Where/When/How Can I Watch?

Will and Jay have really put the Tease in Teaser, as we'll have to live off of replaying the trailer and reading the books for the time being. But more is to come, and announcements will continue to be made as the project continues.

For those who have not been involved in the project yet, a brief explanation to get up to speed.

When Jay reached out to Will about the possibility of animating Cradle, Will decided to personally fund this trailer that they could then take to Netflix and Amazon and the likes to pitch the show. Then, together, they asked how much further they might be able to go, and so they reached out to the fans with a Kickstarter that ended up raising 1.25 million dollars.

Animation is expensive, especially when you choose to only work with studios that treat their employees well, so Will and Jay had to be smart with the money. The upcoming animation will be released to the fans as a thank you for our support in making this a reality, but it's real strength will be in supporting Will and Jay's original plan.

The 80-90 minute animatic that has been funded will be complete in mid to late 2025. With that, the teaser trailer, and the fans reactions in hand, Will and Jay will be able to approach platforms such as Netflix, Amazon, and Apple to pitch a full Cradle Animation.

Animatic?

Yes, Animatic. While the trailer is fully colored and animated, the final result of the kickstarted animation will not be. Here is a sample of the style of animation we will be getting next year

This particular animatic is taken from the website of Tiger Animation, which is the South Korean studio that Lex + Otis partnered with for the Cradle Teaser and many of their other projects.

The animatic we get will be fully voice acted and scored, and the only step remaining to turn it into full animation is the funding required to send it off to Tiger Animation. Tiger Animation has an amazing portfolio as well, including Avatar the Last Airbender, Castlevania, and a large number of both Marvel and DC Animations.

Animation Structure

The 80-90 minute animatic will be released as a standalone product and will cover the contents of the first two books of the Cradle Series, Unsouled and Soulsmith regardless of any potential contracts with distribution platforms like Netflix or Amazon.

If/When a platform picks up Cradle and decides to fund the full animation, the show will follow a fairly standard 22 minute episode format. As such the animatic will also serve as the first four episodes of season 1 of the show.

This was a creative decision made by Will and Jay as part of the adaptation process. A number of the fan-favorite characters are introduced in books two and three, and its fairly unanimous that any fan that wasn't hooked immediately, was hooked by the third book, Blackflame.

That is to say, that, while the first two books will only receive two episodes each, this will not be the pace the rest of the show follows. The total number of episodes per season is dependent on funding, but the goal is currently to take 4 season to tell the story of Cradle.

So What Now?

Well. Now we wait. But in the meantime, share the information about Cradle, watch the trailer, show it to your friends and family, read the books if you haven't already, check out the wonderful audiobooks narrated by Travis Baldree if you prefer listening, join us on reddit and discord to talk about things.

In addition to just exposing more people to a wonderful story, each bit of interaction with Cradle is another piece of evidence to show the streaming platforms and prove that a Cradle animation is worth the investment.

[ellethespaceunicorn]

Teasing the hell out of Charles Brandon or Henry Cavill to the point they make the reader pay😘❤️

I picked Charles Brandon because The Tudors was a whole thing for me, like I fell in love with the entire cast but also with Henry’s delicious ass. I remember the first time I saw it onscreen and just about passed out. Hims got cakes! And Charles had redeeming qualities so it was sort of easy to forgive him for being a dick. Anyways, here’s a shameless piece of smut!!

Title: Doing Something Unholy

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI

Pairing: Charles Brandon x Reader

Fandom: The Tudors 

Summary: This is a prompt fill for @thereisa8ella who wanted some teasing of Charles Brandon and then him taking over. Enjoy!

Warnings: oral sex (m receiving), fingerfucking (f receiving), cock worship, orgasm denial (m receiving), unprotected p-in-v sex, ball handling, choking, creampie

A/N: Unbeta’d, we die like people who tried their best. 

Dividers by: @firefly-graphics

Support/Reblog banner by me

My Masterlist 

You awake to sunlight streaming in through the open curtains, a heavy weight across your middle, and soft snores rumbling in your ear. The musky odor of sex still lingers in the air and its heady scent goes right to your core. Shifting to your other side, you come face to face with a still-sleeping Charles Brandon.

This man was a god, how else could he be explained? That chiseled jaw, sinister smile, eyes like the ocean…and that’s just his perfect face. Below the neck, he was just as exquisite. Abdominals like sculpted marble, legs like strong tree trunks, and a cock like a third arm. Yes, he deserves to be worshipped. But you deserve your fun too.

You press on Charles’ shoulder to get him to lie on his back, waiting until his snores return. You shift down the bedding so it just comes to his thighs and marvel at this man’s body once again. You inch closer to him, throwing a leg over his chest so your face hovers over his groin. 

You lean down and kiss his hips, snaking your tongue out to taste his freckles. Using your tongue, you draw a line down his Adonis belt to where it meets his cock. You place sweet kisses along the shaft and that stirs the Duke of Suffolk. He only moves his hips slightly and groans at first, but as you take him into your mouth, he fully awakes.

“What a beautiful view, who knew the sun rose at the same time as the moon?” He punctuates his sentence with a solid grip on both your asscheeks.

Letting his hardening cock slip from your mouth, you wiggle your hips in his face. He gets the hint soon enough, his deft fingers finding your folds and getting to work. You suck him down again and his digits slip inside. Your moans guide his ministrations, his grunts and thrusts highlighting that you have him right where you want him.

You ride Charles’ fingers until you feel the familiar break in your resolve, walls fluttering as he fucks you through your orgasm. You pause in your worship of Charles’ cock but with some incentive of his hand pushing on the back of your head, you get back to work. It’s then when you get the idea to edge him, something you’ve never done with him. First time for everything, right?

You take him to the hilt, your rose brushing his hairy sac, inhaling his musk. You swallow around him in your throat while playing with his balls, all while starting to ride his fingers again. You roll his balls between your fingers, moaning around his girth to elicit vibrations. When you feel the telltale ripple in the shaft, you pull off and squeeze his base. His orgasm is effectively ruined, and he can barely move as you cum again around his fingers.

You: 2. Charles: 0. 

You’re coming down from your high as Charles is landing a sharp slap to your swollen and sensitive clit. “You think you’re clever, don’t you?” You don’t have time to catch yourself as he throws you across the bed and slots himself between your thighs. Charles places his hands under each knee and pushes your legs into your chest, opening you fully for his enjoyment. He’s hard enough to enter you in one swift motion, your slippery folds welcoming him into their tight heat. “Trying to tease me, were you, love?”

“I don’t…know what…you mean,” Your words are cut off by deep and sure thrusts, your inner walls thoroughly stimulated.

“Where did my good girl go? Who is this temptress who denies me her warmth?” His pupils dilated, and he looks like a feral beast, wanting to claim his prize.

“Still…here,” You moan, failing to convince him of your innocence.

“No, she’s not here,” He wraps a hand around your neck and leans down to whisper into your ear, “You’re doing so well taking my cock, but I want to try something new. And you, my little spunk dump, are gonna take it.” He leans up and kisses the tip of your nose before tightening his grip on your neck and pounding into you until your combined grunts and wet slaps of skin are all there is to hear.

He holds your gaze, even when your eyes start to lose focus. He lets go of your neck as his hips stutter in their rhythm. You gasp for air as another orgasm rocks through you. Charles follows soon after, painting your walls with his heavy spend. He collapses on your chest without pulling out, your panting breaths the only sound in the room.

He leans back to look at you, utterly spent and exhausted. He pulls himself out of you slowly, watching his load leak out of you. He slaps the head of his dick against your sore clit a few times, earning him a satisfying whimper from your lips. He runs a hand between the valley of your breasts and leans up to kiss you and nuzzle your nose.

“Am I still your good girl?” You plead, not fully wanting to forget you got the upper hand on Charles.

“Hmmmm,” He draws it out, making it seem like he is thinking hard on the matter before chucking at your pout, “Of course you are! You will be my good girl forever, don’t you worry that pretty little head.”

“Thank you, Your Grace,” You breathed, feeling satisfied and happy with how you spent your morning.

A/N: First time writing for Charles Brandon, he is fun to tease! Hope you enjoyed it!

**Tag List**

@enchantedbytomandhenry 

Let me know if you wanna be added and for what plz! 😁

[marvelobsessed134]

This is my first masterlist. Second masterlist is on the pinned post in my profile

How to request, guidelines etc.

Marvel Women

Kate Bishop

Rizz You Up

Kinktober day two: Ghostface!Kate

Kinktober day eight: overstimulation

Natasha Romanoff

Caught

Little skirt

Package delivered

Watching you

Young, and dumb

Need help

GP!Beefy!Nat wakes up to you riding her abs (Drabble)

Captivity (My pretty little mermaid)

Dirty thoughts

Sundresses and breeding kinks

Wanda Maximoff

Control

Best friends sister

Julia Cornwall

In her web

Marvel Men

Bucky Barnes

Honeymoon Suite

Meet Cute

“Want me to suck your cock while driving?”

The one with the slutty maid and the sexually frustrated super soldier

Love me tender series

Steve Rogers

Sam Wilson

Peter Parker

Tony Stark

Mötley Crüe

Nikki Sixx

I’m only me when I’m with you

Don’t be shy, honey

Streamer!Reader headcannons

Behind closed doors

Good girl

Small town romance

Who do you belong to?

You shouldn’t be doing that…

Sneaking around

Kinktober day eleven: public sex

BDSM head cannons

Somebody’s watching me

Better? Better.

Save a horse, ride a cowboy

Tommy Lee

Midnight Comfort

Teenagers In Love

Runaway bride

Can we keep him!?

Friends help each other

Go team

Maroon

Little drummer girl

Sparks Fly series

Pretty When You Sleep

Plus One

Kinktober day nine: manhandling/tights ripping

Halloween party shenanigans

Attention you deserve

Surprise

Delicate flower series

First time

BDSM head cannons

It’s gonna be okay

Vince Neil

Thunderstorms

Sweet dreams

Please

It’s the little moments

Shades Of Cool

Our honeymoon (part one) part two

Kinktober day one: daddy kink

Plaything

She’s a riot grrrl

Mick Mars

Mermaid Motel

Streamer!reader headcannons

You know you want it

Kinktober day four: pet play

Multi-members

Two is better than one

Halloween/fall headcannons

Groupie Love (Gang Bang)

Cinderella (only writing for Tom and Eric)

Tom Keifer

Did you do that to her?

Up behind her with a pool stick

BDSM headcannons

“What is it, honey?”

Tom finding out you’re pregnant

Eric Brittingham

A pleasant surprise

Kiss (only writing for Paul, Tommy, and Gene)

Paul Stanley

I can see you

Underneath the surface

I fall to pieces when I’m with you

Prank call gone wrong

Teach you how

Tommy Thayer

You’re enough

One bed?!

Gene Simmons

Kinktober day 6: possessiveness

Guns N Roses

Izzy Stradlin

Kinktober day 5: handcuffs

Kinktober day 7: crying kink

Slash

Kinktober day 10: vouyerism

Barbie The Movie

Barbie

Starting to really like the real world

You can be the boss (STRLTRW part two, series masterlist coming soon)

CEO!Barbie AU masterlist

Marvel Cast/other celebrities

Sebastian Stan

Put me in a movie

W.A.S.P. (Only writing for Blackie)

Kinktober day 3: humiliation

Stranger Things

Steve Harrington

Domesticated

Daisy Jones and The Six

Daisy Jones

Her good slut

G!P Daisy x Stripper!Reader

LA Guns (Only Kelly atm)

Mistaken

Cindy Crawford

Picnics

Joan Jett

Our secret moments

[kckt88]

The Picture of Aemond Targaryen I

Summary:

The story of a young man who sells his soul for eternal youth and beauty.

Warning(s): Language, Drugs, Sin, Indulgence, Debauchery, Kissing, Smut – Fingering, Oral Sex (M & F Receiving), P in V.

VICTORIAN ERA AEMOND TARGARYEN

INSPIRED BY THE BOOK/MOVIE - THE PICTURE OF DORIAN GRAY

Word Count: 3750

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated.

The fog-shrouded streets of Victorian London welcomed Aemond Targaryen as he arrived in the bustling city, a hopeful yet innocent youth with dreams of a brighter future. With the passing of his grandfather, Otto Hightower, Aemond found himself thrust into a world of opulence and intrigue beyond his wildest imagination.

As he stepped out of the carriage onto the cobbled streets, Aemond's eyes widened with wonder at the sights and sounds of the city. Towering buildings loomed overhead, their grand facades casting long shadows upon the bustling thoroughfares below. Pedestrians bustled past, their attire a dizzying array of colours and styles, each one seemingly more extravagant than the last.

Guided by his grandfather's solicitor, Aemond made his way through the labyrinthine streets until they arrived at the opulent townhouse that would now be his home. The imposing structure stood as a testament to the wealth and power of the Hightower family, its grandeur unmatched by any other in the neighbourhood.

As he stepped through the ornate doorway, Aemond was greeted by the rich scent of polished wood and fine fabrics. The interior was a marvel of Victorian elegance, with intricately carved furnishings and sumptuous tapestries adorning every surface. It was a world far removed from the humble surroundings of his upbringing, and Aemond could scarcely believe that it was now his to inherit.

But amidst the grandeur, there lingered a sense of melancholy – a reminder of the grandfather he had lost, and the weight of responsibility now thrust upon his young shoulders. Otto Hightower had been a pillar of the community, revered by all who knew him, and Aemond was determined to honour his legacy in any way he could.

With a solemn resolve, Aemond set about making the townhouse his own, determined to carve out a place for himself in this new and unfamiliar world. Little did he know the trials and tribulations that awaited him amidst the gaslit streets of Victorian London, where danger and intrigue lurked around every corner. But for now, he allowed himself to bask in the glow of his newfound fortune, hopeful for the adventures that lay ahead.

After performing a mesmerizing piano solo in front of the upper classes of Victorian society, Aemond Targaryen found himself amidst a flurry of praise and admiration. As he basked in the warm glow of applause, a figure approached him, his presence commanding attention amidst the throng of well-dressed attendees.

"Bravo, Mr. Targaryen," the man said with a charming smile, his eyes alight with admiration. "Your performance was truly captivating."

Aemond returned the smile, feeling a flush of pride at the praise. "Thank you, sir," he replied, his voice tinged with a hint of modesty. "I am glad you enjoyed it."

The man introduced himself as Criston Cole, a renowned painter whose works adorned the walls of the most esteemed galleries in London. He spoke of beauty and art with a passion that ignited a spark of curiosity within Aemond's soul.

"It would be an honour to capture your likeness on canvas, Mr. Targaryen," Criston said, his tone sincere. "Your beauty is a rare gift, one that should be preserved and admired for all to see."

Aemond hesitated, taken aback by the offer. He had always been told of his striking appearance, but to have it immortalized in paint was a prospect he had never considered.

"I... I am flattered, Mr. Cole," he stammered, his cheeks flushing with colour. "But I fear I am not worthy of such an honour."

Criston shook his head, a glint of determination in his eyes. "Nonsense, my dear boy," he said firmly. "You possess a beauty that transcends mere mortal standards. It would be a crime not to capture it for future generations to behold."

And so, with Criston's persuasive words ringing in his ears, Aemond found himself agreeing to sit for the portrait. Little did he know that this decision would mark the beginning of a journey that would forever change the course of his life, leading him down a path fraught with danger and sin.

In the lavish halls of a grand Victorian mansion, Aemond Targaryen found himself drawn into a conversation with Lord Tyland Lannister, a man whose reputation preceded him as an aristocrat with a hedonistic worldview. Lord Tyland exuded an air of confidence and charm, his every movement a testament to his belief that beauty and sensual fulfilment were the only things worth pursuing in life.

"Aemond Targaryen, a pleasure to make your acquaintance," Lord Tyland greeted with a smooth smile, his gaze appraising as he took in Aemond's striking features.

"The pleasure is mine, Lord Lannister," Aemond replied, returning the greeting with a polite nod. Despite his upbringing and the values instilled in him by his grandfather, Aemond couldn't help but feel a flicker of curiosity at the man before him, whose aura of decadence seemed to pull at him like a siren's call.

Lord Tyland's eyes sparkled with mischief as he leaned in closer, his voice low and seductive. "Tell me, Aemond, do you believe in the pursuit of pleasure above all else? In the beauty of indulgence and the ecstasy of desire?"

Aemond hesitated, unsure of how to respond to such a provocative question. His upbringing had taught him the virtues of duty and honour, but there was something intoxicating about Lord Tyland's words, a tantalizing allure that beckoned him to explore the depths of his own desires.

"I... I suppose I have never given it much thought," Aemond admitted, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "But there is certainly a certain appeal to the idea of... indulging in life's pleasures."

Lord Tyland's grin widened, his eyes gleaming with approval. "Ah, a man after my own heart," he exclaimed, clapping Aemond on the shoulder with a familiarity that bordered on intimacy. "Come, let us toast to the pursuit of beauty and pleasure, and may we revel in its delights together."

And so, with a sense of trepidation and excitement swirling within him, Aemond found himself drawn into Lord Tyland's world of hedonistic excess, where the boundaries between right and wrong blurred in the intoxicating haze of pleasure and desire. Little did he know the dangers that lurked beneath the surface, waiting to ensnare him in a web of temptation from which there may be no escape.

Seated in the dimly lit studio of Criston Cole, Aemond Targaryen found himself bathed in a soft, ethereal light as the artist worked diligently at his easel. Lord Tyland Lannister stood nearby, his keen eyes observing the scene with a mixture of admiration and amusement.

"My dear Aemond, you truly are a vision of perfection," Lord Tyland remarked, his voice tinged with a hint of awe. "Your beauty is timeless, a masterpiece in its own right."

Aemond offered a modest smile in response, though his thoughts were elsewhere. As he watched Criston deftly apply paint to canvas, a sense of unease settled in the pit of his stomach. He couldn't shake the feeling that this fleeting moment of youth and beauty was but a fragile illusion, destined to fade with the passage of time.

"Will you not sit for your own portrait, Lord Lannister?" Criston inquired, breaking the silence that had settled over the room.

Lord Tyland chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Alas, my dear Criston, my beauty is but a fleeting thing," he replied with a smirk. "Unlike our dear Aemond here, whose likeness will remain untouched by the ravages of time."

Aemond's heart skipped a beat at Lord Tyland's words, a sudden realization dawning upon him. His beauty, though captivating now, was not meant to last. And yet, the thought of growing old and withered filled him with a sense of dread unlike anything he had ever known.

"I... I cannot bear the thought of losing this," Aemond confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. "To watch as my beauty fades, as I wither and decay... it is a fate too cruel to imagine."

Lord Tyland's gaze softened with understanding as he placed a comforting hand on Aemond's shoulder. "Then do not imagine it, my dear boy," he said gently. "For there are other paths one can take, other bargains one can strike to ensure that such a fate never befalls them."

Aemond's eyes widened with realization as Lord Tyland's words sank in. Could it be possible? Could he truly sell his soul in exchange for eternal youth and beauty, allowing the portrait to age and fade in his stead?

Without a second thought, Aemond made his decision. "I will do it," he declared, his voice firm with resolve. "I will sell my soul to ensure that the picture, rather than I, will age and fade."

And as the words left his lips, a shiver ran down Aemond's spine, for he knew that he had made a bargain from which there could be no turning back. But in that moment, as he watched Criston continue to work on his portrait, he felt a sense of peace wash over him, knowing that his beauty would endure for all eternity, even as he himself faded into obscurity.

As the days passed and the portrait of Aemond Targaryen neared completion, a subtle unease began to gnaw at his soul. Each time he entered Criston Cole's studio, his eyes were drawn inexorably to the painting, where he couldn't help but notice a subtle change, a shift in the delicate lines and hues that adorned the canvas.

At first, it was nothing more than a trick of the light, a shadow cast in just the right way to give the illusion of movement. But as Aemond studied the portrait more closely, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss. The features that had once mirrored his own with uncanny accuracy now seemed to possess a life of their own, a vitality that pulsed beneath the surface like a living thing.

"It's remarkable, isn't it?" Criston remarked, his voice breaking the silence that had settled over the studio. "The way a portrait can capture the essence of its subject, preserving it for all eternity."

Aemond forced a smile, though his heart was heavy with doubt. "Indeed," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. "Though I must confess, I find it... unsettling, to see myself so immortalized."

Criston's brow furrowed with concern as he studied Aemond's troubled expression. "Is there something wrong, my dear boy?" he inquired, his tone gentle.

Aemond hesitated, unsure of how to voice the fears that had been gnawing at his soul. "It's just... the portrait," he began, his voice trailing off. "It seems to have changed since its creation. Almost as though... it's alive."

Criston's expression softened with understanding as he placed a comforting hand on Aemond's shoulder. "Fear not, my dear Aemond," he said reassuringly. "It is only natural for a portrait to evolve over time, as the artist imbues it with the essence of its subject. It is a testament to your own vitality, your own spirit, that the painting should reflect such subtle nuances."

But Aemond could not shake the feeling of dread that had settled over him like a shroud. For in that moment, he realized that the portrait was not merely a reflection of his own beauty, but a mirror into the depths of his soul.

In the glittering world of Victorian London's theatre scene, Aemond Targaryen found himself captivated by the enchanting performance of a stage actress named Alysanne Rivera. Her beauty was radiant, her talent undeniable, and with each graceful movement across the stage, she seemed to cast a spell upon all who beheld her.

After the performance, Aemond found himself lingering near the stage door, unable to tear his eyes away from the ethereal figure that emerged from within. As Alysanne's gaze met his own, a smile played across her lips, and Aemond felt his heart skip a beat in response.

"Mr. Targaryen, what a pleasant surprise," Alysanne greeted with a warmth that sent a shiver down Aemond's spine. "Did you enjoy the performance?"

Aemond nodded eagerly, his voice tinged with admiration. "It was magnificent, Miss Rivera," he replied earnestly. "You are truly a vision of beauty and grace."

Alysanne's cheeks flushed with a becoming blush as she thanked him for his kind words. And as they spoke, Aemond found himself drawn deeper into the enchanting spell of her presence, his fascination growing with each passing moment.

But amidst the newfound connection between Aemond and Alysanne, there lingered a sense of unease – a tension that seemed to simmer just beneath the surface. And as Aemond glanced over his shoulder, he caught sight of Criston Cole watching them from across the room, his expression oddly inscrutable.

"Is something the matter, Mr. Cole?" Aemond inquired, unable to shake the feeling that there was more to his friend's demeanour than met the eye.

Criston's smile was strained as he approached, though his voice remained composed. "Nothing of consequence, my dear Aemond," he replied, though there was a hint of unease in his tone. "I was merely admiring Miss Rivera's performance, much like yourself."

But Aemond could sense that there was more to Criston's reaction than he was letting on. And as he glanced back at Alysanne, a sense of foreboding settled over him like a dark cloud, casting a shadow over the burgeoning connection between them.

Little did Aemond know, the threads of fate were already weaving a tangled web around him, entangling him in a web of desire and jealousy from which there may be no escape. And as he found himself drawn deeper into the enchanting spell of Alysanne Rivera, he could only wonder what dark secrets lay hidden beneath the surface of their newfound romance.

As the nights in Victorian London grew longer and the shadows deeper, Aemond found himself drawn into a world of forbidden pleasures, where the boundaries between reality and fantasy blurred in the intoxicating haze of opium smoke.

Guided by Criston Cole and Lord Tyland Lannister, Aemond ventured into the dark underbelly of the city, where opium dens beckoned with promises of oblivion and ecstasy. The air was thick with the scent of incense and whispered secrets as they descended into the depths of their own desires.

Within the dimly lit confines of the opium den, Aemond felt a sense of liberation wash over him like a tidal wave, casting aside the constraints of society and duty in favour of the euphoria that pulsed through his veins. With each inhale of the drug, he felt himself drifting further and further from reality, lost in a kaleidoscope of colours and sensations.

And as he reclined upon the plush cushions, surrounded by the flickering glow of lanterns and the distant murmur of voices, Aemond surrendered himself to the intoxicating embrace of opium, losing himself in a world of pleasure and sensation beyond his wildest dreams.

But amidst the hedonistic revelry, there lingered a sense of emptiness – a gnawing void that could not be filled by the fleeting euphoria of the drug. And as Aemond gazed into the depths of his own reflection, he could not shake the feeling that he was chasing after something that could never truly be attained, a mirage shimmering on the horizon of his own desires.

Yet still, he returned to the opium dens night after night, unable to resist the pull of their siren song. For in the depths of his soul, Aemond knew that he was searching for something more – something that could only be found in the darkest recesses of his own desires. And until he found it, he would continue to chase after the elusive promise of oblivion, heedless of the consequences that awaited him in the shadows.

In the dimly lit corners of Victorian London's seedy underbelly, Aemond couldn’t stop himself from seeking solace in the arms of prostitutes, their whispered promises of pleasure offering a fleeting escape from the turmoil that churned within his soul.

Despite his growing connection with Alysanne, Aemond found himself drawn to the forbidden allure of the brothels, where desire and temptation lurked around every corner. With each encounter, he lost himself in a whirlwind of carnal ecstasy, the weight of his guilt momentarily forgotten in the throes of passion.

But even as he revealed in the embrace of the women who offered themselves up to him, Aemond could not shake the nagging sense of remorse that gnawed at his conscience. For with each act of indulgence, he felt himself drifting further and further from the purity of his love for Alysanne, his heart torn between duty and desire.

And as the whispers of scandal began to swirl around him, Aemond knew that he was playing a dangerous game – one that could cost him everything he held dear. Yet still, he could not resist the allure of the brothels, the promise of fleeting pleasure outweighing the consequences that loomed on the horizon.

In the dark recesses of his mind, Aemond wrestled with his demons, his soul torn asunder by the conflicting desires that waged war within him. And amidst the chaos of his own making, he wondered if he would ever find redemption for the sins he had committed, or if he was doomed to drown in the depths of his own depravity.

As Aemond stood before the portrait that Criston Cole had painstakingly crafted, he felt a chill run down his spine. The likeness that once captured his youthful beauty now seemed to twist and contort before his very eyes, mirroring the darkness that lurked within his soul.

Gone were the serene features that had adorned the canvas just days before, replaced by a grotesque visage that seemed to mock him with every brushstroke. The lines etched into his skin were deeper now, resembling the scars of his own sins, while his eyes bore a haunted look that sent shivers down Aemond's spine.

His heart pounded in his chest as he stared at the twisted reflection of his own sins, a sense of horror washing over him like a tidal wave. How had the portrait come to reflect the darkness that lurked within him? And what did it mean for his own soul, tainted as it was by the weight of his guilt?

But amidst the fear and confusion, a voice whispered in the depths of Aemond's mind – a voice that spoke of a bargain struck in desperation, a bargain that had unleashed forces beyond his control. And as he gazed into the eyes of his own likeness, he knew that he could no longer deny the truth that lay before him.

For the portrait was not merely a reflection of his own beauty, but a mirror into the depths of his own soul – a soul that had been tainted by the sins he had committed. And as he watched in horror, the painting seemed to shift and change before his very eyes, its twisted visage a chilling reminder of the darkness that lurked within him.

With a sense of urgency gnawing at his conscience, Aemond carefully wrapped the cursed portrait in a thick cloth, shielding its twisted visage from the prying eyes of the world. Every brushstroke seemed to mock him with the weight of his own sins, a reminder of the darkness that lurked within his soul.

With trembling hands, Aemond made his way to the attic of his opulent townhouse, the portrait cradled against his chest like a forbidden secret. The air was thick with dust and the musty scent of neglect, but it was here, amidst the shadows and cobwebs, that he would hide the painting away from the world.

As he reached the top of the stairs, Aemond set the portrait down gently upon a dusty table, his heart heavy with the burden of his secret. With a deep breath, he lifted the cloth, revealing the twisted visage that lay beneath.

Pausing momentarily before he covered the portrait once more, shielding it from the light of day. And as he stepped back into the darkness of the attic, he knew that he had sealed away not only the painting, but the secrets that lay buried within his own soul.

But even as he turned to leave, a voice whispered in the depths of his mind – a voice that spoke of the darkness that lurked within him, waiting to be unleashed upon the world once more.

Criston Cole's voice echoed through the halls of Aemond townhouse, his excitement palpable as he spoke of displaying the portrait to the world. "Aemond, my dear friend," he exclaimed, his words tinged with anticipation, "the time has come to unveil your portrait to the public. The world deserves to see your beauty immortalized in paint."

Aemond's heart skipped a beat at the thought, his mind racing with panic as he searched for an excuse to delay the inevitable. "I... I'm afraid that won't be possible, Criston," he stammered, his voice tinged with desperation. "You see, I've put the portrait into storage for safekeeping. I fear that it may not be ready to be displayed just yet."

Criston's brow furrowed with confusion as he studied Aemond's troubled expression. "But why, my dear friend?" he inquired, his tone laced with concern. "Surely the world is ready to behold your beauty in all its glory. Why hide it away when it deserves to be celebrated?"

Aemond's mind raced as he searched for a plausible explanation, his heart pounding in his chest with the weight of his own deception. "It's... it's complicated, Criston," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. "There are forces at work that you cannot begin to understand. Trust me when I say that it's for the best."

Criston's expression softened with understanding as he placed a comforting hand on Aemond's shoulder. "Very well, my dear friend," he said gently. "If you believe it to be for the best, then I will respect your wishes. But know that your beauty deserves to be celebrated, no matter the circumstances."

As Criston turned to leave, Aemond felt a sense of relief wash over him like a tidal wave, though it was tinged with the knowledge that his deception could not last forever. For the portrait that lay hidden away in the darkness of the attic was a reflection not only of his own beauty, but of the darkness that lurked within his soul – a darkness that was consuming him with each day that passed.

TBC

[waiting4inspiration]

Дорогая 6 (The Winter Soldier/Bucky x Reader)

Summary: On the hike with Bucky, you find that you are losing yourself. Perhaps you're realizing that your situation is not all that bad, perhaps his words are finally getting to you. Whatever it is, you're certain you'll never see the compound again...

Warnings: +18 content, MDNI, dark content, angst, small fluff, Stockholm syndrome, manipulation, gaslighting, strong language, the smut you've all been waiting for, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), p in v, fingering, oral (f receiving), slight bondage, noncon/dubcon, let me know if I forgot anything

Word Count: +5k

дорогая Masterlist II Marvel Masterlist

Bucky has not left your side since you stepped out of the cabin. He walks close to you, so close that you can practically feel his breath on the back of your neck. It does nothing but fuel the thoughts you had in the shower, making them return tenfold. 

You try to focus on the trees around you, on the sounds of the birds above you, and on all the other pieces of nature. But every now and then, your thoughts crumble when you feel his hand grazing your back when he steadies you on a steep or rocky path. 

You can feel his eyes on your back. He won’t walk in front of you and lead the way on the hike. Walking behind you will prevent you from trying to run away again. If he’s behind you, he can catch up to you pretty quickly. If you were behind him, you could sneak away and get a few minutes head start. No, he’ll stay behind you. 

Even though you want to keep going, keep on walking so that you can distract yourself from your own thoughts, Bucky makes you stop, saying that you need to rest and drink water. Reluctantly, you listen. 

Taking the bottle of water he offers you, you see him watching you out of the corner of your eye. After taking a good long sip, he sees him smile at you and nod his head. “See how nice this is when you’re not fighting against me?” he asks, but you don’t respond in any way. 

His hand reaches out to your face, turning your gaze to him, making you look at him. And you feel your heart skip a beat in your chest. “Don’t give me the silent treatment. I hate it when you don’t want to speak to me,” he says in a small whisper. 

“I want to speak to Bucky,” you say back, pulling your face out of his grip to look down at the bottle in your hands. “The real Bucky.” 

You look up at him after a moment of silence to find that he’s not smiling anymore, not smirking, or anything like that. He’s just looking at you, with an almost sad look in his eyes. Seeing some kind of emotion in his eyes, you can tell that this has to be the real Bucky. It makes you shift forward, your heart leaping in your throat as you stop yourself to try and reach out to him. You can only whisper his name.

“Yeah, it’s me,” he whispers, his words coming out in a small laugh that doesn’t make you feel better. 

“Bucky, what’s happening? Why are you doing this?” you ask, feeling tears coming through your eyes that you try to fight back. 

He shakes his head at you, casting his eyes to the ground as he folds his hands together. “Because ever since you joined the team, I’ve wanted you. God, I wanted you so bad but I didn’t have the guts. I’m not…as fearless as my other self,” he adds, looking back at you with small tears in his eyes. “When my programming was triggered and I saw you, something else snapped in my mind. I can’t explain it, but it’s like I can choose who I want to be. Me, or the Winter Soldier. I chose to be him after the mission, thinking that he would at least tell you how I felt. I didn’t expect him to bring you here.”

Your hand reaches out to him and you can’t stop yourself from moving closer to him. “It doesn’t have to be like this, Bucky. We can go back to the compound and forget this ever happened. We can work this out, get you back to being you.”

He laughs, shaking his head, and looks back down at his hands. “I told you we can’t go back,” he whispers sadly, looking back up at you. “Do you have any idea what they’ll do to me if we go back? What they’ll do to us?” he asks, his hands grabbing you roughly, shocking you, and making you gasp. “They’ll separate us, do tests on me, God knows if they’ll even allow me back on the team.”

“It doesn’t have to be like that, Bucky. I’ll talk to them, convince them not to do anything to you-”

“Will you?” he asks, his voice going rough and dark as his hold on your hands tighten. “Would you ever want to see me again if we go back? You see, while we’re here, you have no choice. I’m there when you wake up and I’ll be there when you fall asleep and no one can separate us. Why would you want someone to separate us, (Y/n)? Do you really hate me that much that you don’t want to see me again?”

You shake your head, opening your mouth to argue against him. But you can’t say anything because you don’t know what to say. Honestly, you don’t know what you’d do if you convince him to go back to the compound, whether or not you’d want to see him again. He did kidnap you, almost kill you, almost starve you, threaten you, scare the shit out of you. Why wouldn’t you want to see him after that? But why wouldn’t you? You feel sorry for him, for what he’s going through. He shouldn’t be going through this alone. 

But why are you feeling sorry for him? You shouldn’t.

Groaning to yourself, you pull your hands out from his hands and run them over your face. Bucky moves in front of you, kneeling on the ground as he places his hands on your knees. “Do you see how complicated things will be if we go back? We’re happy here. Aren’t you happy?”

“I don’t know,” you whisper, staring down at him with wide eyes. “I don’t know. I don’t know what to think anymore. You keep on…” you stop.

“I keep on what?”

“Keep on putting thoughts in my head. I don’t know what to think anymore.”

“Then don’t think anymore. You don’t have to think anymore. Just feel,” he whispers, his hands reaching up to cup your face, making a shiver run down your spine as you remember the feeling you had in the shower earlier today. 

Before you can say anything again, he leans up and pulls you closer to him, pressing his lips to yours again. You tense up, your hands gripping each other as you stare at his face again, like you had this morning when he tried to kiss you. 

He breaks the kiss and keeps his face close to yours as his hold on your face tightens. He can tell that you’re overthinking this and that’s what’s making you hesitate. “Don’t think about it. Just give in to what you’re feeling,” he whispers, his thumb stroking the top of your cheek. 

As he leans in again, you close your eyes and decide to just go with it and see how kissing him really makes you feel. 

Something changes inside of you. It’s as if you can feel your insides stirring, your stomach irritated with butterflies as you lean in to kiss him harder. A little unwanted voice in your head wants this, pressuring you to kiss back deeply, telling you to ignore the other voice trying to tell you that this isn’t right, and trying to remind you what he’s done to you. 

But God, the feeling inside you as you kiss Bucky. Your hands involuntarily reach up to touch the side of his face as you lean closer to him. He stands, pulling you up with him, and his hands come to rest on your hips as his lips move against yours. 

Your head feels fuzzy, like you can’t pin down a single thought. Everything just blurs together and all you can feel is the stubble growing on his face - a prelude to a beard - and the way his hands tightly grip your hips as if to stop you from going anywhere. 

It’s only when you feel his hands sneaking to the hem of your shirt, his fingers slyly curling under it that you pull away to break the kiss. You breathe out a heavy sigh as you try to pull away from him, but his grip on you keeps you in his place. You don’t have the courage to open your eyes and look at him, but you can tell that his eyes are open and that he’s staring right down at you. 

“See how it feels when you just give in and not fight against yourself?” he asks in a whisper, his face still close to yours as his eyes stare into yours. “Imagine what it will feel like if you just give into me completely, Дорогая.”

His words send a shiver down your spine, making you breathe out an audible shaky sigh as his flesh hand traces your jawline and then runs down the length of your neck. It’s as if your knees go weak at his touch, his words from the night he brought you here ringing in your head. 

“But I won’t fuck you. Not until I know you’ll be begging me to not stop instead of begging me to stop, Дорогая. And I won’t fuck you until I have you moaning at that name instead of hating it.”

You won’t deny that you’ve gotten used to being called by that nickname, sometimes you even expect for him to call you that instead of using your name. And you wonder if his words are coming true now. 

He steps back away from you, smiling down at you the way that Bucky would as a way to greet you in the morning at the compound. He then holds out a hand for you to take the lead on the trail again. But you don’t want to carry on walking. You want him to kiss you again because when he kissed you, everything didn’t matter. You had forgotten about your situation, about everything else wrong in the world. 

You want him to push you against the closest tree and kiss you, making you forget about everything again so that you can live in a moment free of any worry and pure bliss. 

But you carry on walking, reveling in the feeling of his hand touching the small of your back as he walks close behind you. 

The trail loops back to the beginning where you and Bucky make your way back to your safe-house cabin. The rest of the walk is done mostly in silence, neither you nor Bucky speaking. If it weren’t for the sounds of leaves brushing against each other in the wind and the sounds of the birds singing above you, it would have been awkwardly silent the entire walk. Yet, the only thing on your mind is his presence, his touch, and the steady breathing from him that sounds close behind you. 

As the sun begins to set, everything gets a bit darker, you two hear a howl in the distance from local wolves that live in the woods. It makes the both of you freeze for a moment. And though the wolves are far away, you feel a sense of fear fill you, thinking about what could happen if they come upon you two while still in the open. You don’t have any weapons to defend yourself and you could be outnumbered very easily, depending on the size of the pack. 

Bucky places a hand on your back again, making you jump slightly as you turn to look back at him. “Don’t worry. We’re almost home.,” he comforts, running his hand up and down your back as he smiles at you. 

You know that he will be able to easily fight the wolves off with his metallic arm. He can protect you and you start to feel safe knowing that he’s here with you. You feel safe with him, and it gives you the courage to continue walking.

Arriving home soon as Bucky had said, you breathe a sigh of relief when he closes the front door behind him once inside the house. You put your stuff down neatly by the door, wiping the sweat from your hands on your legs as you stand up again, turning to face Bucky. 

He’s watching you closely, a small smile on his face as he takes a step towards you. “Thank you, for not running away,” he chuckles, his laugh making you smile lightly as you drop your gaze to his feet. He lifts your gaze back up to him by placing two fingers under your chin. “I enjoyed myself today.”

And you don’t know what comes over you, but you lean forward to place your lips to his. Perhaps it was the sound of wildlife outside that reminds you of the wandering wolves you heard, reminding you of how safe you felt with him closeby. Maybe it was the feeling of forgetting everything when you had previously kissed him. Whatever it is, you don’t pay it anymore mind the moment he kisses you back.

Your arms go up to wrap around his neck, pulling him closer as your hands go to his hair. His lips move against yours, his tongue urging you to open your mouth, turning the kiss more passionate, more intense. 

His hands resting on your hips grip them tighten as he pulls back to end the kiss. And when he tries to step away and say something, you hold him in place and shake your head. “Bucky,” you whisper, the carefree courage still inside of you pushing everything else out of your mind. You don’t want him to leave you. 

“You should get some rest,” he whispers, resting his forehead against yours as his hands come up to cup both sides of your face. “Дорогая.”

You shudder at the nickname, releasing a shaky breath as you take a small step back. You wait for him to stop you again, pulling you in for another kiss to finish what you might have started when you went in for the kiss. You expect him to take control of you again. 

But he lets you go. Even though it seems that his hands twitch to grab you again, he lets you walk to the room, silent and timid, his eyes scanning over your body as you walk. The desire grows in his body. 

When you’re out of the room, Bucky takes a deep breath and runs his hands through his hair as he turns around. “Fuck,” he whispers to himself as he rests his hands on the cabernet by the front door. He closes his eyes and all he can picture in his head is having you bent over the back of the couch, naked under him as he fucks into you at a relentless pace, taking what he wants as you whimper beneath him. 

“You want her.” Hearing his Winter Soldier self whisper in his head, his gaze snaps up to the mirror hanging on the wall in front of him. And his image in the mirror seems to reflect the HYDRA assassin inside of him. “Take her. It’s clear she wants you too.”

He shakes his head, his hands gripping the edge of the cabernet tightly. “I-I don’t think I have that kind of courage. She’s just warming up to being here,” he says, staring at himself in the mirror. “I don’t want to go back to having to tie her up again if this doesn’t go right.”

The Winter Soldier chuckles in his head, but Bucky can see his wicked smile in the mirror. “That’s why I’m here. You need to be fearless and I don’t know what fear is,” he says, leaning a bit closer to the mirror. “Let me take over and I can give us both what we want.”

Bucky stares at himself, swallows roughly and then nods his head. “Okay.”

You don’t know when you fell asleep, but you did. Hearing the bedroom door open wakes you, but you don’t register it for a moment as you turn over on the bed. You open your eyes as you shift to get comfortable and your heart drops when you see a figure standing in front of the window, blocking the moonlight from filtering in through the window. 

Gasping in shock as you shoot up in your place, your breath catches in your throat when he moves towards you, kneeling on the bed so that you can see his face. It’s Bucky. But the look in his eyes tells you that it’s actually the Winter Soldier. 

“Easy, Дорогая,” he whispers, crawling over you with his hands either side of your body. “You really think you’d get away with that innocent kiss?”

Your whole body screams at you but you don’t know if it’s telling you to run or just give in to avoid his wrath. But all you can do is freeze in place as you stare up at him creeping closer and closer to your face. 

“Then again, it wasn’t so innocent, was it?” he whispers, smirking at you in the dark as his face comes close to yours. “I could feel how much you wanted me to fuck you right then and there.”

Words don’t come easily to your lips, leaving you just sitting there. “Bucky,” you call, your hand reaching up to grab his bicep. You don’t want the Winter Soldier to be in control at the moment. For some reason, you don’t feel safe now with him hovering over you. You’d feel safe if he was there in the woods with the threat of wild wolves, but you feel as if you need Bucky to be present in this moment for you to feel safe. 

“Bucky’s right here, Дорогая. Right in the back of my mind, watchingyou, wanting you,” he whispers, pushing his body against yours where you can feel his hardness pressing against the inside of your thigh. “Needing you.”

You quiver under his words and under his gaze as his foot pries your legs open. Your hands rest on his shoulders as you shake your head, trying to get a decent thought to come through. “Wait.”

“No more waiting. I’ve waited long enough for this,” he growls, grabbing your hands off his shoulders to pin them down to the bed. When you try to fight back against his hold, his grip tightens around your wrists as he forces you back down on the bed. 

“Not like this-”

“If not now, Дорогая, then when? Don’t make me get those handcuffs out again,” he growls, staring down at you as you freeze under him again. 

You don’t want to be tied up again. The first days you were here and cuffed to the bed were the worst days. You hate the idea of going back to that. So, you have no choice but to do what he wants. 

He leans down closer to your face, his lips barely touching yours as he stops for a brief moment. “Don’t think about it,” he whispers before he presses his lips to yours. 

The kiss is different from the one Bucky gave you. This one is more intense, it makes your heart beat faster in your throat and all you can think about is what the Winter Soldier has in mind for you now. What he will do to you if you give in and what would happen if you continue to fight back. 

Damned if you do, damned if you don’t.

His lips leave yours only to find a place on your neck as his hands travel down your body, keeping you down on the bed as they make their way to your hips. His burning fingers, each side contrasting from the metal digits of his left hand and the flesh of his right, dig under the hem of the shorts you’re wearing. Your legs twitch at the thought of him undressing you. His bionic hand slips in under the elastic band, making its way to your cunt like a homing missile ready to wreck your body. 

His kiss leaves a mark on your neck, something you can feel throbbing on your skin before his lips before moving down your collarbone as he begins to descend down your body. It’s a natural response that you know he won’t appreciate, but your hands push on his shoulders, trying to stop him from going any further down your body. 

He growls at your resistance, grabbing your hands again and holding them firmly as he sits up, still straddling your hips. “Seeing how you can’t be good now, guess I’ll have to intervene,” he says, holding your wrists in one hand as his other goes to undo his belt. 

You shake your head and try to pull your hands out of his hold. “No, please. Don’t do this,” you beg, watching in shock as he wraps the belt around your wrists.

Then he moves your arms over your head, looping the belt once more around the pole of the headboard. “Fucking keep them there,” he orders when he looks back down at you. The look in his eyes tells you that even though you can slip out of the makeshift cuffs, it will be better if you don’t even try. 

You nod your head, tears starting to well up in your eyes as he strokes your cheek with the back of his hand. “Good girl, my Дорогая.”

Trembling at the nickname makes him smile down at you, his hands on your hips pushing up your flimsy t-shirt to just below your boobs, exposing your stomach. As he returns to where he was before you tried to push him away, his hands coming to your hips again to slowly pull down your shorts and panties. His eyes flicker back up to yours, a wicked smile growing across his face as he pushes your legs even more open. 

With your lower half exposed, he crawls back over your body, his face coming above yours as he stares down into your eyes. “Say his name so that he can hear that you want him to do this to you,” he whispers, his hand cupping your pussy, fingers just teasing you at your entrance. “Beg him to fuck you.”

Your eyes screw shut as he slips a finger through your folds, brushing over your clit, and making your body tense up as you take in a sharp breath. “Bucky, please,” you whimper, a tear escaping your eye and rolling down your cheek. You moan as he slips a finger into you, curling as he thrusts them into you at a slow pace. “Oh God.”

“Fuck, you do want this,” he mutters before pressing his lips to yours, catching your moan before it leaves your mouth when he rubs his thumb in a circle on your clit. 

Your body arcs, pressing against him and his hand as he picks up his pace. You want to grab his wrist, have some control on his hand as it fucks into you roughly. But you can’t with your hands still bond above your head. All you can do is kiss him back.

Once again, you’re at his mercy.

His thumb continues to rub your clit, making you moan into his mouth, your body trembling in pleasure as you feel your climax rising. He can feel you clenching around his fingers, your thighs pressing together the faster his fingers thrust into your soaking pussy.

“I shouldn’t let you cum,” he whispers in your ear, his hand stopping and he pulls his fingers out of you, making you whine at the emptiness you feel inside you and the sudden loss of pleasure, your climax now ruined but leaving you wanting more. “Seeing as how you don’t want this at all.”

“No, no, no. Please,” you beg, pulling against the belt tying you to the headboard. “Please.” You almost cry out, pressing your lower body against him. 

He chuckles, standing up on his knees so he can get a better view of you pleading and begging for him to fuck you. “Since you asked so nicely. But you’re wearing too much for me.”

And without another word or breath, his hands rip your shirt, the tearing sound causing you to gasp as the rags fall on the bed. He licks his lips at the sight of your exposed breasts and when you quickly glance down to his crotch, you see a prominent bulge in his pants, straining to be released. “I should fuck that beautiful mouth of yours,” he growls, cupping the side of your face to run his thumb over your bottom lip. “But soon. Right now, I want something much sweeter,” he says, glancing down to the spot between your legs. “After all, you did beg me to fuck you.”

Did you? Did you beg for him to fuck you? You can’t recall saying anything like that, but you can’t think straight at the moment. 

You watch him undo the zipper of his pants, shoving them down past his hips and disposing them to the side. His cock is hard, springing up straight against his stomach. He’s big too. And thick. It makes you swallow roughly and flinch slightly at the thought that he will fuck you relentlessly with that and nothing you say or do can stop him. 

“You can take it,” he moans, pushing your legs open to position himself between them. “I know you can,” he whispers, guiding his cock to your entrance. 

He pauses for a moment, the head of his cock teasing your entrance, and his eyes locking with yours. His hand comes up to wipe a tear from your cheek. Then, he slowly pushes into you, making your mouth fall open and your chest filling with air as you stretch around his girth. “God, you’re so tight,” he mutters, his head falling between his shoulders to glance down at where your cunt swallows his cock. “Fucking perfect.”

“Bucky,” you whimper, your hands grabbing the belt around your wrists as you shift to get some kind of movement going.

His lips crash down on yours as his hips begin to thrust into you. He pulls out of you slowly so that just his head remains inside you before slamming into you, groaning at how you clench around him every time. His hand grabs your thigh, gripping it tight enough to probably leave a mark in the morning. He places your leg around his hip, allowing him to thrust deeper into you, causing new levels of pleasure and arousal to fill your body. 

You can feel the sweat starting to coat your forehead, and a mixture of sounds from you and Bucky moaning in ecstasy to his hips slapping against yours fills your ears. All you can think about at the moment is the pleasure filling your body, leading to your climax growing again. All you can think about is that you need this. You need a release. 

You grind your hips against him, meeting his thrusts as they grow faster and harder, your face falling in the bend of his neck seeing as how you can’t touch him even though your fingertips burn to touch him. 

“Bucky.”

Your voice makes his head snap up to you, his eyes telling you that it is Bucky above you now. The Winter Soldier is gone. Bucky doesn’t say anything though and he continues to thrust into you, fucking your cunt and making you moan his name again. 

“(Y/n). Fuck, you take me so well, doll,” he growls, pressing his lips to yours in a sloppy kiss that makes your heart pound faster.

He angles his hips in a certain way that hits your sweet spot, almost making you scream in pleasure, your body convulsing and trembling on the bed. “Right there?” he asks, repeating the movement and causing a loud moan to leave your lips as you throw your head back against the pillow. “Right there.”

“Yes. Fuck,” you moan, your eyes screw shut as he sucks on the mark on your neck. “Oh God,” you whimper when he does it again, thrusting into you roughly. 

You can feel your release coming, your walls clenching around his cock, milking him toward his own climax. “I can feel you’re close,” he whispers, his lips coming to your ear as he places a hand on the base of your neck. The fear that he could wrap his hand around your throat and choke you makes your heart skip a beat. And yet, it only adds to the pleasure building inside of you like adding fuel to a flame. “You gonna cum around my cock?”

All you can do is moan, your head weakly giving a nod as his thrusts turn harder and deeper. “Say his name. Scream it. Tell him that you’re his.” 

It’s the Winter Soldier speaking and you don’t know who is fronting at the moment. But that’s not what you care about. All you care about is the pleasure you feel in your body, building and growing making it feel as if your body is on fire. 

“Bucky!” 

You have no control over your voice as you scream his name, your climax reaching its peak as immense pleasure washes over you, clouding your already foggy mind. Feeling you clenching around him and the sound of his name leaving your lips makes Bucky fall over the edge himself. You feel him spilling inside of you, his hips stuttering lazily against you to ride out his high, uncaring about how you whimper at the sensitive feeling between your legs. 

He pants above you, his face buried in your neck as he stills inside of you. Slowly, he lifts his face to look at you, blinking as the hair curtains his face. “I’ve wanted that for so long, this almost seems like a dream,” he whispers, resting his forehead against yours. 

Your shoulders begin to ache at the position of your arms, your eyes falling shut as you let out a shaky breath. “Things could have been different if you had said something,” you say, your voice hoarse. 

“But things are perfect now. No use thinking about the past when we have a whole future to look forward to now,” he says, nuzzling your face before placing a quick kiss on your lips. 

With that, you know that you’ll never see the compound again.

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[becauseimswagman1]

About becauseimswagman1

Wassup folks I'm Lexis. I'm 23! (#BigCancerNotTheLittleOne). She/her and into women.. And men sadly. And I'm a kneegrow

I started writing fanfic about 4 years ago and I mainly wrote boyxboy then I started writing ...that straight stuff... But I still write boyxboy! I've only written fluffy girlxgirl but I'm always open to expanding my craft!

I'm into kpop and khiphop. My main groups consist of nct (all units), ateez, monsta x, and cignature (I like and listen to WAYYYY more. Ask and I shall tell all). Khiphop wise, my main peeps are Coogie, Changmo, Dean, and JEY (I also listen to WAYYYY more. Just ask about it).

My ult bias is Haechan (how could he not be? Like have y'all heard his voice?)

I also listen to jpop and p-pop. (Y'all know them boys Alamat? Or Psychic Fever? 👀)

I'm a big tv/movie watcher. I watch just about any and everything. I'm into marvel, dc, teen wolf, degrassi, etc. Trust me if it has a good plot or a hot cast (or both) I've already seen it or I plan to watch it. I'm into WWE too! Aew as well (not as much but I'm tryna fix that #JonMoxleyIsMyHusband #Don'tTellDarbyAllin #OrSwerveStrickland #OrEddieKingston)

I'm also into BLs. (Thai, Korean, Japanese, Chinese, Filipino. Mainly Thai tho)

I'll write for just about anyone. And I'll write just about anything. NO dub-con or non-con at all.

I'm always taking requests! And don't be afraid to give me details about what you want!

My reader will always always always be black too!!!

Becauseimswagman1's Masterlist

(18+) Ruined (Erik Stevens)

(18+) What Are We? (Michael Cimino) Pt.1, Pt2, Pt3, Pt4, Pt5

(Fluff) Love Is All You Need (Yunho from Ateez)

(Fluff) The Beginning of Something Beautiful (Shuriri)

(18+) Wanna Be On Top? (San x Mingi x Reader)

(18+) Study Session (Mark from Nct)

(18+) Toxic Love (Trevante Rhodes)

(Fluff) Lightskin Jaehyun (Jaehyun from Nct)

(18+) She's The Boss (or so she thought) (Q from The Boyz)

[latoyalestrange]

THE FOOL

p. pascal x f!oc

Masterlist | Playlist

Summary: It was their last twenty-four hours in Columbia before the cast flew back to Los Angeles. If you thought they weren’t going to party, you would be terribly mistaken.

Words: 3.3k

Warnings: Alcohol, mentions of cheating, possessive!pedro, not edited, begging 0.0, suggestive make out sceneeee

Taglist: @marvel-sw-lover , @lokislittle , @red-red-rogue , @babukat , @joels-darlin , @lmariephoto37 , @violac0la

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CHAPTER SIX — BAD INFLUENCE

“And that’s a fucking wrap!” Tom shouted, flute of champagne held up for a toast. The long dinner table erupted with applause and cheering. “I won’t bore you with a long speech, I know I already talk too much. So enjoy your dinner, and we will see you next year for season two!” Another round of applause as he joins in on the cheering before taking his seat.

“Thank god, I’m starving.” Pedro grumbled in his seat, next to Naela of course.

“I know, right? I feel like I can finally relax and eat a full meal. I’m so nervous in between takes that I can’t eat,” she chuckles, wasting no time in digging in.

“Really? What makes you so nervous?” There was that tone again. She gave him a knowing smirk in between bites.

“Hm. Interesting.” He knew what she was trying to say. Pedro and Naela always seemed to be on the same page, which was proven true when they were asked if they wanted to continue the party after dinner at a nearby club.

“But we have to wake up so early tomorrow,” Naela droned, pouting at Joanna.

“Yeah, I don’t know about being hungover for a 7 hour flight,” Pedro added.

“Oh, come on, love birds! Let’s have some fun tonight!” Joanna shook Naela’s shoulders, forcing them to laugh. “We won’t get to see each other again until the season premier!”

“Blondie’s right, let’s go make bad decisions!” Boyd joined in, jokingly cheering at the last part. Pedro looked at Naela, smirking at her while he considered the idea.

“I’ll go if she goes,” he decided before taking the last drink from his glass. Naela rolled her eyes but failed to look annoyed with her cheeks flushed.

“Pleeease, Naela? I promise it’ll be so much fun!” Joanna clasped her hands together as she begged. Naela thought for a moment, clearly it was important to Joanna.

“Fine. But I’m leaving at midnight, sharp,” Naela tried to warn her, but Joanna was already jumping and cheering after the first word.

“Yay! That’s probably how late I wanted to stay out anyway.” Joanna beamed at her, making her chuckle and shake her head.

As soon as they passed the bouncer, Naela could feel the regret setting in. The music, the dancing, and the overall atmosphere just wasn’t her. She was more of a bar kind of girl. However, if you got a few drinks in her, she could definitely be a club girl.

A few drinks meaning two shots of tequila and a refajo; exactly what she’d had tonight. The group gathered around a small, circular, bar-height table with their drinks. Joanna and Naela were chatting on one side, and the boys on the other. With her barriers down, conversation was flowing without any effort. They were laughing, joking, telling stories, and it all felt natural. Things came to a crashing halt, however, when Joanna heard one of her favorite songs come on.

She gasped, “I love this song! Naela, you have to come dance with me!” She clapped giddily before taking Naela’s hands, robbing her of the opportunity to say no. Luckily, it was one of Naela’s guilty pleasure songs as well, ones that you hate to admit they make you dance every time.

They didn’t waste a second getting to the dance floor and swaying their hips together to the beat. The neon lights glided across their skin as they moved, making a beautiful scene for everyone to watch, and they did. They stood out against the crowd and Naela only realized it when the music changed and she finally paid attention to her surroundings. A few pairs of eyes were on them, but the only ones she cared about were the espresso orbs staring at her from across the dance floor. Before she could think, her feet were carrying her closer to him and Joanna was following close behind.

They weaved their way through the dance floor and eventually arrived back at the table. Her eyes were mostly locked with Pedro’s, but she couldn’t help but notice the new round of drinks waiting for them on the table.

“Aw, how’d you know?” Joanna mused as she took the shot glass in her hand.

“Just had a feeling.” Pedro answered, openly winking at Naela. She smirked and followed suit, taking the small-but-mighty tequila shot in her hand.

“Cheers.” She hoped her friends didn’t pick up on the suggestive tone meant for Pedro. If they did, they didn’t comment before bringing their glasses together, then tapping them on the table in ritual. Naela held her breath as she brought the glass up to her plump and glossed lips and downed the firey liquid in one go. She usually couldnt hide her disgust after the second shot and this time was no different. Luckily for her, Pedro found the way she scrunched her nose and stuck out her tongue adorable. He shook off his own disgust before smiling down at her while she wasn’t looking.

“I think we should go dance with different people at the same time,” Joanna announced, looking pointedly at Boyd. He looked confused at first, but she nudged him and gestured towards Naela and Pedro on the other side of the table.

“What—“ Naela started before Boyd cut her off, agreeing with Joanna.

“Yeah, yeah I’m gonna go dance…” He trailed off as she dragged him away. Naela turned to Pedro, who was already looking at her, and couldn’t contain her laughter.

He shook his head, “What are we gonna do with them?”

She giggled, “I have no idea.” He sighed and glanced around the room, trying to swallow his anxiety.

“So what’s the first thing you’re doing when you get home?” Was the first question he could think of. The lights were flashing around, making focusing harder and just her presence was enough to make him sweat. She held back a wide smile by biting her lip, unable to contain her excitement.

“Firing my manager,” she answered confidently.

He instantly burst into laughter, letting his head fall back. “That’s fair, very fair.”

“What about you?” She asked, letting her body language naturally open up as she turned toward him. He smoothed his mustache for a moment, like he was deep in thought.

“Probably just gonna wait for you to call me,” he answered with a smug look on his face. She nudged him with her elbow, refusing to give in to the temptations she was feeling.

“I’m serious,” she added, looking up at him.

“So am I,” he chuckled. “Hope John won’t be too jealous.”

She scoffed, knowing he knew her boyfriends name, “It’s Josh. And he already is, if I’m honest.” The liquor was getting to the both of them and it was obvious in their conversation. His brow furrowed with interest.

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?” His tone again. It was like a siren’s call that pulled her further out to sea, and she was entirely fine with drowning in it.

“I only told him bits and pieces of a few scenes and he tried to convince me not to take the job. He damn near broke up with me when I told him about the other contract.” Her expression fell as she spoke, and Pedro swore he could feel a fire ignite in his chest. He was enraged by the fact that a man could treat a woman like her so poorly.

“Well you can tell John to step up or I’m next.” She didn’t bother to correct him. Her head was spinning, trying to find something witty and not awkward to say.

“Maybe I will,” with a cheeky smile and intentional eye contact was the best she could come up with. “I’m gonna go use the restroom. Could you get us another round?” she added to diffuse the tension. He nodded and watched as she gathered her purse and turned to walk away. Naela felt the urge to look over her shoulder, feeling a pair of eyes on her. Sure enough, glancing back at Pedro, she could clearly see his eyes glued below her waist. He looked up at her, wiping his thumb across his lip with a sultry look in his eyes. He didn’t even try to play it off, he wanted her and didn’t care if she knew.

The few minutes she had to herself in the bathroom Naela used relieve herself, but mostly to fix her hair and smudged lip gloss. She took several deep breaths before making her way across the sea of people in between her and where her friends were standing. Boyd and Joanna had joined Pedro back at the table, new drinks in their hands.

“How was sitting on the other side of the club for ten minutes?” Naela asked sarcastically as she sauntered up to the group.

“It was great actually, much better company,” Boyd added jokingly. Pedro wheezed as he laughed and nudged his shoulder.

An hour or so and a few more drinks later, Naela could feel everyone starting to slow down, whether it was from exhaustion or the liquor. Her own words were slurred and she found everything much more funny than it actually was. Additionally, she found herself standing much closer to Pedro than she should’ve been. By now, she leaned into him with his arm ghosting her back as they stood. Either no one cared or they were too drunk to notice.

Speaking of too drunk, while laughing at something Pedro said, she stumbled back into his chest.

“Wow, you’re really drunk,” he whispered teasingly in her ear, chuckling a bit as his hands lingered on the outside of her arms.

“Not even a little bit,” she mumbled, craning her neck to meet his gaze as she rested against him now.

“Let’s get you in bed, yeah?” She knew that wasn’t how he meant it but the ache she felt in between her legs thought otherwise. She nodded and couldn’t help but bite her lip as she looked up at him with suggestive eyes. He smirked down at her enticingly innocent expression, trying to silence the inappropriate thoughts circling his mind.

“I’ll call a taxi,” he chuckled, shaking his head.

“Are you guys coming?” She asked the rest of the group, her eyelids starting to droop and her words becoming more strung together by the second.

“No, I think we’ll finish our drinks first,” Joanne slurred as well, unable to hide her smirk. “You guys go ahead.”

“Okayyy, I’ll see you guys in the morning then.” Naela sloppily wrapped her arms around her friend, almost making the both of them topple over. They laughed it off before she broke away to hug Boyd as well.

“Don’t do anything stupid, yeah?” He joked, patting her back casually.

“So don’t do anything you would do, got it!” Naela resposed teasingly. He chuckled and nudged her away with his palm to her forehead. She retreated to Pedro, who was just getting off the phone.

As if it were a habit, he slinked his arm around her shoulder, whispering in her ear, “Vámonos, hermosa.” God, is Josh could see this…

Naela shooed the thought of her boyfriend away as Pedro held the door for her. The brisk air hitting her face didn’t sober her up one bit, but it felt nice. He joined her near the curb as they waited.

“So what are you actually doing first when you get home?” She asked curiously, smiling brightly at him. Her dimples made him want to cave right then and there.

“I’ll be sleeping for the first few days, trust me,” he laughed, “But once I’m awake I’m shaving this off.” He smoothed his facial hair down, a gesture Naela had grown to find extremely enticing. However, she gasped unexpectedly once she processed what he had said.

“No, please don’t get rid of it! It’s really grown on me,” she whined, inching closer to him and letting her palm rest on his chest.

“I’m pretty sure it’s literally grown on me,” he joked. Once again, even though it wouldn’t be that funny if she were sober, she let her head fall back with laughter, causing her to lose her footing and trip off of the curb and into the street. She would’ve been just fine, but Pedro instinctively grabbed her and pulled her back onto the side walk, coincidentally into his arms. With his heart practically beating out of his chest, tension hung in the air for what felt like many minutes as he searched her eyes for any sign of hesitancy. For once, Pedro knew exactly what he wanted and he was going to get it. No advice from management, no contract, or anything else for that matter could’ve kept him from kissing her in that moment.

Slowly, he brought their lips together for a gentle, yet meaningful kiss. It was so different from all the other times they’d kissed; it wasn’t rushed, expectant, or in front of an entire cast and crew. It was perfect, and she never wanted it to end as her arms found their way around his neck, pulling him in deeper. Their long-anticipated fantasy was over, however, when an impatient honker ripped them out of it. Naela had no idea how long the cab driver had been waiting behind them.

“Oh, shit…Lo siento, señor!” Pedro apologized to the driver before swinging the door open and allowing Naela in first. As they started driving, she instantly knew why the studio was so particular about them using their assigned drivers. She was regretting her last drink as the driver made sharp turns and lurched at every stop. She thought closing her eyes would help, but eventually she resorted to letting her head rest of Pedro’s shoulder.

“You okay?” He asked softly, looking down at her. She shook her head and groaned.

He chuckled, “Tell me if we need to stop. Not sure he’d be too happy if you threw up in here.” She only let out a deep breath in response.

“Frena, por favor. Ella está mareada,” He spoke up to the driver, who instantly accepted his request and drove carefully the rest of the way back.

“Veinte mil pesos, por favor.” The driver said coldly as he put the car in park and outstretched his hand. Pedro sighed and reached around to take out his wallet, giving him two crisp blue bills.

“Quédeselo.” He resposed simply as he pulled himself out of the back seat. Naela reached for her car door, but before she could step out, Pedro was opening her door and holding his hand out for her. She gladly accepted, regaining her footing much better than she had before the ride home. Once the cool air hit her skin again, she felt much better. They smiled at eachother after he closed the door, hardly having a chance before the cab sped off. Naela hardly noticed. She did notice, however, how right Joanna was about how he looked at her. Her cheeks were either hot from him or the drinks, and her stomach, she was sure turned into butterflies.

“You don’t need me to carry you, do you?” He asked teasingly.

She chuckled, “Hm, now that you mention it…” He knew exactly what her tone was implying. He sighed, and without a moment of hesitation, he bent down and wrapped his arms around her thighs and threw her over his shoulder. She squealed at the unexpected movement, desperately grasping onto his back for support.

“I wasn’t serious!” She giggled into his leather jacket as it pressed up against her chin. Once they reached her trailer, he slowly planted her feet on the ground, at which point Naela realized she had neither her shoes or her purse. She patted her side, swearing her bag was hanging off her shoulder moments ago.

“I got it, don’t worry,” He reassured her as he took her keys out of her purse, her shoes in his other hand. She couldn’t remember taking anything off, but she was grateful at least Pedro was keeping track of her mess.

“Oh, thanks,” she responded softly. After a few tries, he eventually opened the door to her trailer and ushered her inside.

“So this is where you’ll be staying for the next six months,” he joked, gesturing around the living space. Naela could hardly focus on what he was saying, though. Something about being taken care of made her want to take care of him. She slowly started inching toward him as he went on. “I hope you like spanish TV, because that’s all that plays—“

Before he could finish, she pressed her lips against his and tangled her fingers in his hair. Caught off guard, he found himself unable to back away, in fact his hands were slithering around her back and pulling her closer. But no matter how much he wanted this, or how long he’d waited, he didn’t want to be that person.

“Naela,” he managed to say in between feverish kisses. He was only met with more kisses. God, he wanted to give in so bad. But not only was she in a relationship, she was drunk. He planted both hands on either side of her face and retracted his own, looking her dead in the eyes.

“Naela, we can’t.” He shook his head, eye contact unbreaking so he knew she understood. Her face instantly dropped, and Pedro felt a pang in his chest. Why did she have to look at him like that?

“You don’t like me?” Her brow tipped upward, making her look utterly devastated. He instantly mirrored her expression, feeling horrible.

“No, no, it’s not that…” He shook his head and let his hands fall to her shoulders. He was no longer nervous to admit it, it’s what she needed to hear. “I really like you, Naela.” It didn’t seem to make her feel better, her eyes glued to the floor. He sighed and brought his hand back up to her cheek, this time brushing her hair behind her ear.

“You’re drunk, amor. And I want us to start off on the right foot. Nothing tieing us to other people…” He hooked his finger under her chin and lifted her eyes to meet his gaze.

“I don’t want there to be any question that we both want this.”

“There isn’t,” she retorted, her eyes unwavering. She slid her hand up his torso, gripping lightly onto his collar once she reached it.

“Please, Pedro…” She couldn’t bring him to her level, so she got on her tip toes to connect their lips once more. He grumbled into the kiss, begrudgingly reciprocating.

“You’re making this really hard for me, Naela.” He growled once their lips parted, still holding her frame close as their foreheads pressed together.

“I hope I’m making something else hard too,” she teased, biting her lip.

“You don’t get to know,” he argued, giving her one last firm peck before straightening his back once more. Their hands loosely intertwined at their sides as he smirked down at her.

“You’re a bad influence,” he chuckled, swiping his tongue across his bottom lip.

“I would say I’m more of a fun influencer.” Pedro instantly laughed at her nonsensical response.

“Okay, yeah, time for bed, Naela.” Before she could protest, he spun her around by her shoulder and began guiding her toward her bed.

The next thing Naela knew, the alarm on her phone was blaring next to her head as she untangled herself from the covers. She quickly scrambled to grab her phone and silence it. She looked at the time, four AM. The events of the night before instantly set in. Naela couldn’t tell if she wished she had more to drink that night so she wouldn’t have to remember embarrassing herself like that. On one hand, she totally would’ve thrown up on Pedro at some point, but was that really worse than what she had done? Naela didn’t think so.

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