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uceyliyahh · 1 day ago

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SOMETHING BOUT’ US

Summary: "I want you more than anything in my life." After being in a difficult relationship with Carmelo Yasmine decided to move on from him and become the next big thing while getting drafted on the smackdown roster she always thought she would never find love again due to her commitment issues until she met him.

This fanfic is 18+! NO MINORS ALLOWED

word count: 4592

smut warning; it’ll come in the story randomly so PLEASE PLEASE look out for it I’m not really good at writing ✍🏽 smuts but I’m improving at the moment.

Jey Uso x Yasmine

AWFUL GRAMMAR IM GETTING BETTER I SWEAR LOL.

comments, likes, repost are appreciated I would love the constructive feedback in what area I need to approve in. 🤍

ALSO! I don’t not want nobody stealing my fanfics or take it as theirs that will be an issue fasho so keep it cute respectfully.

I only own my OC along with the make up scenarios

But I’ll be writing along the way since this story is in my drafts on Wattpad right now so yuh. 💁🏽‍♀️

TAGS ⬇️ lmk if you wanna be tag 🏷️@pinkwithhearts @420days @jstarr86 @empressdede @angiedawn02 @biancasreign

@bebesobrielo @skyesthebomb @aikosilo @papireigns-05 @punksyeet @paigereeder @magnificentbouquetmusic

@celesteheartsjey @charmed-dreamssss @fearlesschimera @partypoison00 @mselenalovebug @bloodlinesbabe93 @justazzi @xbriexx @luvrsluxe @celesteheartsjey @4milly @luuvprincess @yyaktayak @yana3sworld

18.

minnieminks replied to your story: Stawpp you took a really good picture of me 🤭 MontezFordWWE replied to your story: ngl yall are some freaks fr jonathanfatu replied to your story: when did hell did you take this photo Uce? romanreigns replied to your story: I'm happy for you uce trinity_fatu replied to your story: look at that smile my sister is happy biancabelairwwe replied to your story: Yasmine looks so happy man

OMNISCIENT Yasmine and Jey are making the most of their honeymoon by indulging in a variety of thrilling activities they've always dreamed of experiencing together. From jet skiing to riding dirt bikes, they are embracing every adventure that comes their way, creating unforgettable memories along the journey.

They truly needed a break from work, especially with all the recent drama surrounding Melo and Liv. However, that was irrelevant now because Yasmine and Jey have found solace in each other.

Yasmine was captivated by the transformation in Jey; he had become a completely new person. His actions revealed the depth of his love for her, proving that despite all the challenges they faced, his feelings remained unwavering and profound.

Yasmine lounged in the backyard, soaking up the sun as she lay on her stomach, feeling the warm rays caress her delicate skin. Suddenly, she heard the back door creak open, and she instinctively knew it was Jey stepping outside to check on her.

He watched in awe as his wife basked in the sunlight, her face hidden beneath a cover. Slowly, he approached and settled beside her. It wasn't until she felt his soft, lingering kisses on her skin that she stirred, a delightful shiver coursing through her at his gentle caress.

He brushed her hair aside, planting soft kisses on her neck as she let out a soft whimper. When she opened her eyes, she found him beside her, a warm smile lighting up his face.

He begins to say, "Hey, Mamas," Yasmine smiled at him as she turned her head to face him.

"Hi, Big Daddy, what are you up to right now?" She asked as she gave him a small peck on the lips.

"I'm just admiring my wife who's looking hella fine in this two-piece swimsuit," Yasmine laughed at his comment, rolling onto her back to give him an unobstructed view of her figure.

He bent closer to her, gently pressing his lips against hers while her fingers tenderly explored his salt-and-pepper beard. In that intimate moment, his tongue danced playfully within her mouth.

She could feel his hand slithering down from her stomach to her private area and began rubbing it gently causing her to flinch at his touch yet again as her lips never left his while doing so.

She couldn't lie to herself that she was feeling super wet down there just from him kissing all up on her and touching her it just made her all jittery, Jey moved her panties to the side feeling how warm and moist she was down there while sticking two fingers inside of her gently thrusting them in and out of her.

Yasmine arched her back against the chair moaning between the kiss stumbling on her words.

"J-Josh...." She muttered.

He pulled away from the kiss just to look down at her crumbling underneath his touch.

"She's so wet for me mama, knowing who she belongs to huh?" Jey cooed at her as Yasmine had her eyes rolling in the back of her head.

He stroked his fingers in and out of her hearing nothing but his hand slapping against her pussy hitting her clit as she moaned his name softly.

"Fuckkk, Joshuaaa,"

"Mhm, keep calling for me baby. Daddy is right here,"

✧˚° Yasmine lay in bed, peacefully asleep after experiencing a series of intense orgasms that had left her utterly exhausted. Meanwhile, Jey was in the living room, engrossed in a show on TV. As he watched, he felt his phone vibrate, glancing down to see that his brother was calling.

OTP Jonathan🩸: yoooo twin what's good? TwinJey🩸: it's been good you feel me Jonathan🩸: where's the wife? It sounds hella quiet in there Uce TwinJey🩸: she's sleeping right now Jonathan🩸: you piped her down didn't you TwinJey🩸: I mean I didn't do allat just gave her that finger stroke technique had her ass squirming Jonathan🩸: yall some freaks for real so how's the honeymoon going TwinJey🩸: it's been going good we did a lot of activities during our time here probably when she wake up we'll head out to do some more things Jonathan🩸: I'm glad yall are enjoying the honeymoon together when did the doc say you'll be able to come back? TwinJey🩸: he said probably two weeks in the meantime I'm just going to be at home chilling waiting for Yasmine to come home Jonathan🩸: ohh aight can't wait for you to get yo' shi back Melo been walking around here talking shi knowing that his ass will be dealt with and behind bars

Jey was about to speak when he caught sight of Yasmine emerging from their bedroom, her red robe elegantly draped around her. His gaze followed her as she gracefully made her way into the kitchen to grab a drink.

TwinJey🩸: Yeah, Uce he don't know what's coming to him

He rose from the couch and made his way into the kitchen, where he wrapped his arm around Yasmine. She turned to him, her smile brightening as she caught the sound of Jonathan's voice in the background.

TwinJey🩸: hiii Brotherrr Jonathan🩸: sistaaaa hey minks TwinJey🩸: aight twin I gotta go duty calls Jonathan🩸: you mean that pussy calling out to you dawg TwinJey🩸: mmcht, mane you funny bye uce

CALLED ENDED.

Jey focused entirely on Yasmine, gently pushing her hair aside as he kissed her neck and jawline, his body pressing against her with undeniable desire.

"What you tryna do for the rest of the day Minks?" He asked her.

"I wanted us to be on the bamboo raft while the rafter guide peddles us around," Yasmine said as she felt Jey grasping her chin for her to look at him.

He kissed her soft lips, "Yeah, we can do that mama. c'mon so we can get ready then," Yasmine nodded her head as Jey gave her a slap on her butt before walking away.

Her and Jey, fully prepared for their adventure, journeyed to the picturesque countryside of Montego Bay, heading towards the enchanting Martha Brae River. As they arrived, they spotted the rafter captain enthusiastically waving at them, extending a warm welcome to Montego Bay. He eagerly shared that he would guide them through the fascinating world of local plants and animals, while also unveiling the rich history of the area.

Jey gently released Yasmine's hand, allowing her to step onto the bamboo raft ahead of him. He settled in behind her, carefully wrapping his arm around her waist, mindful of his broken left arm. The rafter captain greeted them with fresh coconuts, each equipped with a straw, as he started to navigate through the lush jungle.

Yasmine and Jey absorbed the man's captivating tales of the jungle's history, their drinks in hand. As they listened intently, Jey leaned in and gently kissed her cheek, all while remaining engaged in the fascinating narrative.

"Did you know that the lifespan of this bamboo raft that you're sitting on is six months?" The Rafter said before continuing on, "especially when the these here bamboo pales are fell at special points of the lunar cycle to ensure its longevity," he said.

The serene atmosphere enveloped them, filled with the soothing sounds of nature, free from any distractions or disturbances. In this tranquil setting, they found solace, far removed from the chaos that had been surrounding them. Suddenly, Yasmine noticed a vendor selling beautiful seashells. Eager to explore this intriguing find, she requested the boat captain to make a brief stop, and he graciously obliged.

Yasmine approached the man, who welcomed her with a display of various seashells for sale. Meanwhile, Jey watched his wife with admiration, delighted to see her having such a wonderful time.

"You're a very lucky man," The Rafter said.

"Very much indeed luck my man," Jey responded after noticing Yasmine return, proudly displaying her seashell.

The Rafter pressed on, navigating through the dense jungles as he shared the captivating history of the area with them.

As the continued on the trail the Rafter began speaking again, "do you know how did Martha Brae River got its name?"

"Did something happen?" Yasmine asked as the rafter nodded his head, "Legend has it that Martha Brae was an indigenous Tanio women who was tortured by Spanish invaders until she confessed where the gold was hidden among the river," he said. "After telling them, it is said that she changed the course of the river, killed the settlers and blocked up the cave where the gold is still hidden to the day."

Both she and Jey nodded in agreement as they attentively listened to the man.

jonathanfatu replied to your story: ya'll living yalls best life out there huh? 😭 biancabelairwwe replied to your story: omggg look at yall fr fr MontezFordWWE replied to your story: aye yall better be using protection trickwilliams_wwe replied to your story: woah a honeymoon? trinity_fatu replied to your story: YOU GOT COLLECTIBLES?? bitch you better bring me something back 🙄😭

As the sun dipped below the horizon, Yasmine and Jey made their way back from the countryside, their hearts set on the beach for a perfect evening together. Yasmine spread out her towel and settled onto it, the soothing sound of the ocean waves crashing around her creating a serene backdrop for their shared moment.

Jey was enjoying a shower, relishing the solitude while scrolling through her phone. It was during this moment that she received a message from someone she no longer considered a friend.

Trick🙄 sent a message

Trick🙄: I heard you got married and now on a honeymoon?

Yasmine let out a frustrated sigh, her eyes rolling as she read the message. She couldn't understand how he was still able to reach her after she had blocked him.

IMESSAGE 💬 Minnie🧃: how do you keep getting my number after I block you? Trick🙄: cmon minks we still best friends so obviously imma still know yo' number Minnie🧃: that's not the point what do you want? Trick🙄: I see that you're married now to him after everything he has done to you? Especially putting you in a hospital Minnie🧃: that was in the past? And it's been like a year since that happened he's a different man now Trick🙄: a different man huh? Then what about Melo then? Minnie🧃: didn't he tell you that I've gotten a restraining order against him and they got footage of him raping me in my locker room? Trick🙄: he didn't tell me all of that damn you still hurting from that? Minnie🧃: Trick don't pmo like honestly leave me alone and I don't care about Melo because I got Jey now and he makes me happy truly happy at least he owned up to his mistakes and changed unlike your so called best friend Trick🙄: don't do Melo like that Minks Minnie🧃: what the fuck ever trick go ahead and keep defending him like an idiot Trick🙄: wow so it's like that? Minnie🧃: it's been like that ever since he fucking raped me and you didn't believe me as my best friend so yeah Trick🙄: mane Minnie🧃: bye Trick

Yasmine silenced his number once more, setting her phone aside as she closed her eyes, seeking tranquility. She didn’t deserve this turmoil during her honeymoon, especially from someone like Trick, who seemed to defend Carmelo as if his very existence hinged on it.

As she absorbed the soothing sound of the waves colliding, a gentle kiss on her neck stirred her from her reverie. When she opened her eyes, she was greeted by the sight of her dashing husband, a towel draped around his torso, accentuating his chiseled physique.

His towering 6'2 frame loomed over her as she gazed up, and even with a broken arm, he exuded an undeniable charm. The way he looked at her stirred something deep within, igniting a desire to surrender to him like never before. Yasmine's eyes drifted down to his soft member, prompting a playful chuckle from him.

He grasped her chin making her look up at him, "my eyes are up here mamas," He said in a low tone voice that made her shiver.

Yasmine knelt down, planting soft kisses along his stomach, gradually making her way up to his chest and neck. Each kiss left a mark, reminiscent of a vampire's bite, as she playfully sucked on his skin. Meanwhile, she felt his free hand glide down to her backside, giving it a firm squeeze. He was eager to let her take charge, wanting to witness her more assertive side.

She didn't hesitate to rub her hand against his dick stroking it up and down as she felt a bit of his pre-cum dripping out from the head of his dick causing him to stutter at her touch.

"What you tryna do to me baby?" Jey asked softly.

"I wanna take care of you big daddy, since you always do it for me," Yasmine said trailing kissing down his jawline. "You want mama to take care of you baby?" Jey nodded his head as Yasmine removed the towel from his torso seeing his dick rock hard waiting for her mouth to be on it.

SMUT WARNING Yasmine was bobbing her head along moving her fingers up and down on his dick swirling her tongue around the head of it hearing his precious moans escaping his lips watching her take control.

He had his available hand wrapped around her hair as Yasmine continued to go down on him he was trying his best not to thrust his hips inside of her mouth but he couldn't help it; it felt so good.

He watched her take him completely in her throat as Yasmine relaxed her throat as much as she could gazing up at him, she began showing his balls some love while stroking his dick up and down causing him to throw his head back.

"Fuck, mama. Just like that ohh fuck," he moaned.

Yasmine brushed her thumb around the head of his dick making him clench his thighs together while rolling his eyes in the back of his head, she went back to going down on him causing her to gag but relaxed her throat in the end.

She swallowed his dick and half-gagged on it, enjoying the searing sensation she was experiencing at the moment. She had him twitching and shaking due to her tongue caressing down his shaft.

"My god mamas, sucking me up so good. hmm," his guttural moan escaped his lips feeling Yasmine's hands on his throat which caught him off guard but enjoyed it.

She moaned against his dick feeling all of her spit dripping off her lips trickling down her cheek as her tongue gilding around his dick.

As her throat relaxed she allowed him to put a few more inches down her throat taking him all in as much as she could gazing up at him in the process.

She had a good rhythm going while feeling his dick twitching inside of her mouth as she felt her pussy being soaking wet and throbbing waiting to pounce on him within a second.

Her thumb kept brushing up against his sensitive tip leaving him feeling like he was on cloud nine for a moment. "Fuck, mama, fuck." Jey felt like he was losing himself right then and there.

His cock brushed against her throat feeling his balls tightened as she ground onto him, his cock had a slight curve to him banging against her throat but she didn't mind it at all.

All you could hear were sloppy noises coming from her lips as all of her drool was trickling down her face she love the way he sounded and wasn't afraid to show it either.

She wanted to take good care of him while he was recovering just like how he does with her; Yasmine felt his hands caressing her cheeks gazing into her catlike eyes as his dick twitched again causing him to roll his eyes in the back of his skull.

"I'm finna nut mama, ohh mamaaa fuccck," Jey pushed down her head as his warm seeds filled her throat up with ease causing her to swallow the savory flavor of his cum.

Yasmine wasn't done with him yet after she removed her lips from his cock she got up from her knees and held his hand taking him towards their shared bedroom, she pushed him down on the bed straddling him in the process.

Making him feel how wet she was for him she didn't care how sensitive he was feeling right now she grabbed the head of his cock aligning it into her entrance while sanking down on it causing her and him to groan.

Yasmine began moving her hips up and down as Jey watched her do it she held onto his shoulders for more support so that she wouldn't fall riding him passionately.

She place her lips upon his as they began making out passionately swirling her tongue around inside of his mouth while he gripped her ass with his available hand.

Her hands were tugging onto his hair pulling him deeper into the kiss she wanted to wore him out so that he could get some good rest.

She tugged onto his bottom lip pulling it back before going back into the kiss all you could hear was her ass cheeks slapping against his thighs.

Yasmine whined as she felt a slight sting in her right ass cheek signaling that he had smack her ass.

"Ouuu fuck, daddy. this dick feels so good," She muttered.

"Yeah? Keep bouncing on this dick fo' me mama, sexy ass." Jey responded back smacking her ass once more.

As she passionately rode him she replace his lips onto his neck sucking on it making him lose his mind yet again over her control and dominance that she was showing him.

"You drive me fucking crazy for you mama, I will kill a motha-fuka over you baby." He whispered softly in her ear while using his hand to guide her through it.

His dick was kissing her cervix so good it had her seeing stars he could feel how wet and warm she was for him and only him. "Daddy, Ouu daddy." She moaned out. "You love it when I take control huh?" She breathed out.

Yasmine rolled her hips around causing her to roll her eyes in the back of her head before gazing into his deeply.

"Hell yeah, look sexy tryna be dominant mama. Keep goin for me baby just like that,"

Yasmine loved the way her pussy was swallowing up his cock so good along with her milky cream coating his cock so well, he deserves this treatment after everything he has done for her of course.

She kept swirling her hips around his cock feeling it; hitting her g-spot time after time again it felt like his dick was inside of her guts at this point.

"S-shit minks,"

"I own this dick don't I big daddy?"

"Mhmm, sure do baby. this dick is all yours,"

She felt Jey wrapping his arm around her waist and began thrusting his hips to her movements causing her to cry out loudly, Yasmine bit the bottom of her lip her eyes never leaving his as he was fucking her silly.

"D-dadddy I was t-taking...overrr fuckk,"

"you had yo' fun mama, now it's daddy's turn princess," Yasmine wrapped her arms around his neck making sure that she didn't put any pressure on his left shoulder that was broken letting him fuck her the way he wanted to.

He fucked her senselessly as her face was buried in his neck moaning his name in his ear for him to hear his hand gripped her ass cheek while giving it a smack seeing her ass jiggling throughout his thrust.

"Hmm, yo' pussy feels so fucking good baby, so wet for daddy huh?" Jey grunted.

"Yesss, daddyyy, only for you." she moaned as she felt a knot forming inside of her stomach.

Her pussy was clenching against him as he pummeled her gushy insides hearing her whiny state, "you mines you hear me minks? You're fucking mines" he moaned out placing soft kisses on her neck.

She felt herself losing it at this point until he started whispering some nasty shit in her ear that she wanted to hear from him she loved that from him hearing his deep and raspy voice talking her through her orgasm.

Jey was digging in her wet cunt so deeply Yasmine couldn't even speak as her words were trembling around earning a chuckle from him.

Yasmine let herself go as she her orgasm catched up to her causing her to let out a loud whimper escape her lips as he continued beat her insides in deeper and deeper her milky cream coated up his dick so well it lead Jey to trace kissing down her face to soothe her.

"look at you, taking daddy's big dick so well huh mama? Oh I'm finna nut all in yo' pussy milk you right up too," Yasmine mind was in a daze feeling defeated after her intense orgasm that she just had she didn't care if he nutted in her.

The air thicken around them while it felt hot and steamy feeling a puddle of sweat coming down their bodies along with it their bodies feeling sticky due to their sweat.

Yasmine managed to breathe out, "I love you so muchhh dadddy," earning a kiss from him.

"I love you too baby," Jey had felt his dick twitching as he held onto Yasmine's waist tightly while ramming deep inside of her cussing underneath his breath.

He slammed inside of her one last time as he let out a guttural moan escape his lips filling her up with his warm seeds throughout her inner walls it was the most satisfying thing that he could have experienced.

Thrusting slowly into her now sensitive cunt making sure that none of his seeds spilled out of her before pulling out.

Jey had pulled out from her staying in that position as he was rubbing circles around her back noticing that her body was shaking and her legs felt like jello.

Yasmine rested her head against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat gradually slow. As the soothing sound enveloped her, her eyelids grew heavy, and she drifted off to sleep. Gently, he lifted her and laid her on her side of the bed, tenderly covering her with blankets. He placed a gentle kiss on her temple before quietly making his way to the bathroom.

SMUT OVER

✧˚°

YASMINE I had woken up from my long slumber noticing that it was dark outside I started to smell something good coming from the kitchen despite my legs feeling like jello I managed to get up from the bed while putting on my red silky robe before heading towards the kitchen.

I noticed Jey in the kitchen, skillfully cooking with just one arm. A wave of concern washed over me as I approached him, my face reflecting my confusion, and he turned to meet my gaze.

"What's up mama?" He asked.

"Joshua, you need to be resting not cooking pumpkin," I said folding my arms over my chest as I form my lips into a pout.

He chuckled at me leaning down towards my face to plant a kiss on my lips giving me some sort of comfort.

"Mamas I'm good, I'm almost done anyways so go sit yo' pretty ass on the couch for me," his words and his voice turned me on so much as I obeyed him going towards the couch.

I picked up the remote and started watching "Interview with an Vampire" on Netflix while I waited for him to finish his dinner. He served my plate first, followed by his own, and then brought over a drink for us to enjoy.

The meal consisted of a perfectly cooked medium rare steak accompanied by creamy mashed potatoes and fresh asparagus. It looked absolutely delicious. As we dug into our dinner, we enjoyed the show together. He was unfamiliar with the plot, so I took the opportunity to explain it to him without giving away any spoilers.

"So this dude is interviewing a vampire?" He asked.

I nodded my head, "yeah, he's making it into a book but that's all I'm telling you because I don't want to spoil it," Jey had smacked his lips at me causing me to chuckle at him. "Don't smack your teeth at me you just gotta watch the show love,"

We spent the remainder of the night engrossed in the show, sharing laughter and moments together. When I finally stood up to tackle the dishes, I felt his familiar presence close by, his gentle touch a reminder of his affection for me.

He lifted me effortlessly by the thighs with one arm, carrying me toward the couch. As he settled in, he resumed the show, resting his head on my stomach, his gaze fixed intently on the screen.

I gently stroked his silky hair, massaging his scalp while he playfully kicked his feet in delight, completely absorbed in the show.

He was mine once again and I was his.

Something Bout' Us

uceyjucey, MontezFordWWE, biancabelairwwe, and others liked your post.

minnieminks: honeymoon getaway with my lova 🙂‍↕️💗 @ uceyjucey uceyjucey: can't get enough of you mama 😩 minnieminks: @ uceyjucey me either big daddy 🙂‍↕️ MontezFordWWE: Yasmine PLEASE enough with that 😭😭 minnieminks: @ MontezFordWWE my fault sorry 😭😭 forgot I had a sensitive ass brother jonathanfatu: damn ya'll was having a good time huh? 😭 trickwilliams_wwe: Melo ain't gonna like this one uceyjucey: @ trickwilliams_wwe don't nobody care about that bitch 🙄

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minnieminks, romanreigns, rikishi, and others liked your post.

uceyjucey: let's do more adventures together mamas @ minnieminks ❤️ minnieminks: we will do more together hubby 🫶🏽 uceyjucey: @ minnieminks I love you so much romanreigns: I love yall so much rikishi: ❤️ MontezFordWWE: sigh my little sister all grown and shi uceyjucey: @ MontezFordWWE 😭😭 you'll be aight she's safe with me trinity_fatu: omggg look at yall so cute 🥹 trickwilliams_wwe: maneee uceyjucey: @ trickwilliams_wwe take yo' ass on somewhere with allat 🙄 biancabelairwwe: the girls are fighting yet again 😭😭 uceyjucey: @ biancabelairwwe ain't nobody fighting girl just hate bitch ass dudes like Trick and Melo

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A/n: two more chapters to go until the end of something bout' us im actually happy for Yasmine fr and can't wait to see Melo behind bars 💁🏽‍♀️ (spoiler btw lol 😭)

But I hope yall enjoy this chapter lmk in the comments below.

STAY UCEY.

#jey uso #black fanfic writer #black oc #black writers #jey x oc black #jey uso fanfiction #wwelove #black reader #jey uso smut #wwe fanfiction #Spotify

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there-will-be-a-way · 2 years ago

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Bro, my (ex) roommate (who I successfully kicked out) literally pissed in my bed. He pissed. In my bed. In my bed.

And into the bathroom sink too.

#personal posts #I need to buy a new mattress even though I'm piss poor #and sheets #and I need to organize moving back to the living group #damn #I need to pack my life into boxes again #I sent my mother to look at my apartment today #lots of dirty dishes and empty alcohol bottles but my plants are still fine #and that's what matters #after telling the ward's psychologist all of the problems that have been going through my mind #she asked me 'what's the most pressing issue for you at the moment?'#and I told her 'make sure my plants are okay' lmao #like fuck the childhood trauma and bringing my abuser to court and fuck moving and my addiction #*plants*#literally lost sleep thinking about my monstera because this baby got huuuuuge #and the thought of harm being done to her killed me #(ex) roommate could have trashed my laptop and ripped off the wallpapers #but my plants?#I would have hunted and killed him for that

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tini5 · 5 months ago

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Jealousy Endeavor. °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*────୨ৎ────°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*

Rafe Cameron had always known you were special.

From the moment you two met, he could see the spark in your eyes—the kind that made you stand out from the rest. You were his precious girl, his princess, and every time you smiled, he couldn't help but feel like he had the world in his hands.

But you weren’t the jealous type. At least, you hardly ever were. It wasn’t like you to feel threatened by someone else; after all, you knew you were Rafe’s girl, the one who owned his heart completely.

Still, today was different.

It all started at the country club. You were with Sarah, Topper, and Kelce, lounging by the couches when Rafe suddenly mentioned he was going to grab a drink from Sofia. Now, you knew Sofia—everyone did. But that wasn’t the issue. The problem was the way Rafe said her name, so casual, so familiar. It made something inside you tighten.

As Rafe strolled over to the bar, your eyes followed him, narrowing slightly when you saw Sofia flash him a smile that lingered just a little too long for your liking. Rafe returned it with that charming grin of his, and suddenly, your mood soured. You weren’t usually like this. Rafe was yours; you knew that. But seeing Sofia so close to him, so comfortable around him -

"You okay?" Sarah asked, her voice light but concerned.

You plastered on a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. "Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?" you replied, your tone a bit sharper than intended. Sarah gave you a knowing look but didn’t press further.

Minutes passed, and Rafe was still at the bar. You watched as Sofia leaned over, saying something that made Rafe laugh. It wasn’t a big deal, you told yourself. She was just doing her job, being friendly with the customers. But your mind wouldn’t let it go. What could be taking so long?

Your pout only grew more and more, and by the time Rafe finally came back with the drinks, you were in full-on sulk mode.

“Here you go, princess,” Rafe said, handing you your pink drink, completely oblivious to your mood. He leaned in to kiss your cheek, but you turned your head slightly, making him miss.

Rafe paused, his brow furrowing as he looked at you. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you replied, your voice clipped as you took the drink, not even looking at him.

Rafe wasn’t convinced. “You sure about that?” He tilted his head, trying to catch your gaze, but you stubbornly avoided it, staring off into the distance with a pout.

Kelce snickered from his lounge chair. “Dude, you’re in trouble,” he teased, earning a light smack from Sarah.

“Shut up, Kelce,” she whispered, though she couldn’t help but smile at the exchange.

Rafe crouched down beside you, placing a gentle hand on your knee.

"Talk to me, baby,” he coaxed softly, his voice dripping with that tenderness he saved just for you.

You finally looked at him, your eyes narrowing slightly, "You looked like you were having a great time over there.”

Rafe’s lips twitched as he fought back a smile. He knew better than to laugh when you were like this. “You’re jealous,” he teased, his voice low and playful.

“I am not jealous!” you snapped, though the heat in your cheeks suggested otherwise.

Rafe chuckled, unable to resist anymore. He loved this side of you, even if it drove him crazy sometimes.

“Don’t get jealous,” he murmured, leaning in closer. “You own my heart. It’s fucking yours, baby. I’m all yours.”

You bit your lip, the frustration slowly fading away as you melted under his gaze. You hated how easily he could do that to you, but you also loved it. “You better be,” you mumbled, still pouting but less convincingly now.

Rafe smiled, knowing he had you. He brushed his lips against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “Always, princess. Only you.”

You sighed, finally letting your pout slip away as you leaned into him, feeling the tension leave your body as Rafe’s arms wrapped around you. He pressed a kiss to your temple, holding you close, making you feel like the most important person in the world. And you were—at least, to him.

Sarah and Topper exchanged glances, smirking at the sight. “They’re like an old married couple,” Topper joked, earning a chuckle from Kelce.

“Yeah, but they’re perfect for each other,” Sarah added with a smile, watching as Rafe kissed your forehead, murmuring sweet nothings that only you could hear.

And just like that, everything was perfect again.

ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

As Carrie Bradshaw would say : And just like that heres my second blurb about Rafe🪄

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagine #rafe outer banks #rafe x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron outer banks #rafe obx #outerbanks rafe #outer banks #obx #kook reader

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fairene · 5 months ago

Text

passenger princess / ln4

established relationship lando norris x fem!reader

no use of y/n, as always.

in which the weekend takes a twist, and all you want is a baby.

prompt⋯ hi! first of all, i absolutely ADORE your writing. i’ve been reading all of your stuff for the past few days!! second, i was scrolling on pinterest and i rediscovered the lando daddy bracelet pic. that combined with THE dutch gp pic made me be down even worse for him. with that i request a fic with an established reader x lando relationship. that’s set during the weekend of the 2024 dutch gp. where he wears the bracelet over the course of the weekend and it gets you(? or me? idk how to phrase that) really worked up, and after he wins they fuck while he’s still wearing it. and it’s like the most rough feral sex known to mankind. but at the end you want him to come in you and he’s like “oh you wanna make me a daddy”. like yes it is a slight breeding kink but it’s more of the idea of the bracelet and how he definitely knew what he was doing when he wore it (in the fic and irl too tbh). that’s the general idea but feel free to put your own spin on it!! i am incredibly down bad for him and that photo did something to me. ty 🤗🧡

a/n ⋯ yeah tbh i got no excuse for this one chat...like...how could i not resist a breeding kink...i know y'all want it too. but for real--- thank you anon for being patient. i had a lot of fun writing this in between doing work. writing is an escape for me. thank you to all for the continued support, and i'll be continuing to get through asks as time moves along. comment below to be added to my taglist, or comment in general! i love replying to all of them as much as i can.

warnings ⋯ SMUT 18+++!!! minors DNI!!!, language, choking, p in v sex (wrap before you tap!), fingering!(f)receiving, breeding kink, impregnation, teasing, possessiveness, jealousy, creampie, begging, mating press-- allat shit tbh. if i miss a warning, let me know.

wc ⋯ 8.5k (unedited.)

things had begun to be different between you and lando. you couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment when the gears shifted, the stars aligned, though you only cared how good it made you feel with him.

but he knew. he knew exactly when.

you’d been dating lando for two years now. it was two years of pure bliss— the exciting lifestyle that you’ve craved, the love and care, the passion that you shared with him was exquisitely yours. he is yours. and you are his.

that morning in the paddock he was speaking to max, chattering about the post collision from hungaroring. they seemed to make up in due time, finding it easier to call one another “brother’s” again, despite the damages done to their cars and the media in an uproar about their impish, punitive behaviors. you didn’t spare any glance towards the comments made about it, knowing that lando had been in a rough shape that weekend.

you played with penelope, p, as they were talking, squatted on the ground with colored pens in your hand. kelly loomed behind, on her phone, thankful enough that you could occupy her for the time being. you had no issue entertaining her. you loved being around children…most of the time.

“this one?” you held out the red pen for p, as she was pointing to with a bashful look. she was shy– especially around you, given your ethereal, wanderlust nature. you carried yourself in such an elegant way that could facilitate a ray of sunlight through the most tepid storms.

she nodded and you handed it to her. she latched her smaller hand around it, coloring in the rb20 from her sketchbook. your hand fell beneath your chin as you watched her carefully color inside the lines, dreading falling out of it. you smiled as she did, the dress you wore crinkling fashionably around your thighs.

p flashed the page at you nervously, awaiting her input. your eyes glowed, sparkles falling onto the page as you scanned it. she really did do a good job.

“beautiful, p!” you commented, your palm splaying over her upper back. “you’re really good at this, you know?”

a shade of red filled her cheeks, warming her skin. you hadn’t meant to embarrass her, nor make her nervous.

“do you want to color one with me?” you asked her, pointing to the pages in the book. she hesitated for a moment, as if she didn’t hear you properly, but ended up nodding with the same excitement that she did when she’d see max on the podium. “you pick. something…pretty.”

the gears were turning in her head as she flipped through the pages, trying to find the perfect one for you and her to work on. you, on the other hand, were focused on how her brows scrunched together as she furiously searched through her booklet. it was cute the way she perceived things. she was a cutie. it made you think about your own future, what you wanted.

what you wanted,

your eyes drifted from the carpeted floors inside the hospitality room, to the shoes that he wore, and up his black jeans to the papaya livery he sported for the day. you lingered on the expanse of his chest, the tan skin peaking through the v-neck of his unbuttoned collar. your mouth watered instinctively, thinking about how lucky you were to have a man like lando love you so deeply.

as you glanced further up towards his chin, the unshaved rigid surface that sparked electricity over your body, you found him already looking down at you. he wasn’t even paying attention to max at this point, already giving you all of his attention and you didn’t even need to ask.

you gave him a smile, covering your lips afterward to stifle your giggle, and turned back to p once she tapped you that she’d found a picture for the two of you to color.

“mate?”

lando was lost in a daze staring at you. gawking at your figure, the dress you decided to wear. it was a denim colored sheath that you’d twin with alexandra with. she’d wear the gia dress in a pomegranate hue, whereas you took the navy.

lando’s hand was cupped against his chin, rubbing over his stubble, keen on watching how you interacted with p.

your relationship had progressed further than he’s ever gotten to before in his life. he was at a point where he knew he didn’t want anyone else, to explore someone else’s body the way he did yours. he knew you, inside and out, and he didn’t think another connection was even fathomable.

you appeared to be so gentle with her, taking the time to listen to what she wanted you to do, how to color, maneuver the pens. there would be no outside the line coloring on her watch, that was for sure.

he found himself smiling bright.

do you want kids?

he knew that he did. he always knew that. but he’d never broach the subject to you directly. your relationship with him was secure, but was it eligible to be taken to the next level? would you be frightened by his sudden urge to create a life with you? a product of him, and the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen?

“yeah? sorry.” lando looked back towards max. but it was too late, and max was looking over his shoulder towards you and p.

when he looked back towards lando, he threw his hands up in defense. max rolled his eyes. “don’t know why you haven’t proposed to her yet. what’re you waiting for?”

lando bristled. he waited a moment to answer, wondering the same fucking thing. what was he waiting on? the perfect time, perhaps. summer break was rapidly approaching, and he certainly had a ring picked out.

the papaya clad driver pulled out his phone and scrolled through his photos, settled on the right one, and handed it to max. the other driver took it, zooming in, not that he needed to.

“when?”

lando shrugged. “summer break. greece, maybe.”

max cheered, slapping his hand over his mouth in shock. “you’re serious, mate?” lando nodded. max pulled him in for a hug, slapping him over the back. he couldn’t be happier for his best friend in this moment, starting to jump up and down. lando settled him down and slid his phone back into his pocket.

“keep it quiet. i want her to be surprised.”

max made a motion of a lock and key. “surprised about what?”

lando felt giddy.

you hadn’t been paying much attention to what lando nor max were chittering about. you’d been so hyper focused on coloring with p, that you were absent minded of the conversation behind you.

p had picked out a cartoon illustration of max and lando smiling towards the viewer. you’d thought it was an adorable choice, and it showed that p was more aware than what she led on to be. she, of course, started coloring in max. with his neutrally blonde hair, redbull cap, she was fast working.

but then she shoved the book towards you, politely anyways, and pointed at lando, who was yet to be colored in.

“my turn?” she nodded her head, handing you the orange marker.

you grinned, carefully coloring in the lines of the drawing before p took a deep breath. “are you and lando married?”

the question had you freeze momentarily, taken back by her question. “no, p, we’re not.”

you continued to color, whilst she continued to question. “why not?”

“because he hasn’t asked me.”

“why don’t you ask him?”

“i’m not sure that’s what he wants.”

p raised a brow. she looked towards lando and max, giggling together like school girls, then back to you and your focused coloring.

she handed you a brown marker for lando’s curls. “i think you should.”

now it was your turn to be inquisitive, “really, now?”

she nodded her head without hesitating. “then you’d be my aunt!” she giggled.

you colored in lando’s curls, carefully, diligently, thinking of how they felt beneath your fingertips. your breath hitched thinking about the thought of him proposing, wondering if he had ever even thought about it. you knew what your answer would be. it wouldn’t even take a beat of your heart to give him in answer, if he chose to ask. if he chose you.

with one final stripe of a black marker, your drawing of lando had been finished. you stood up, and so did p.

“are you going to have babies?”

“p!” you gasped, mouth dropping. “that’s none of your business, young lady.”

she laughed, twirling around. “what? that’s what mama says happens when you love someone.” confident, wasn’t she? “do you love lando?”

“of course i do, p.”

she gasped.

“is there a baby in there right now?!” she seemed concerned, becoming so bold as to touch your stomach. it was a little higher than where your womb sat beneath your skin, but close enough.

you shook your head. “no, honey. i am not having a baby right now.”

she looked disappointed. taking her hand back, she crossed them over her chest.

“penelope, what are you going on about?” kelly finally chimed in, rubbing p’s back with her hand.

“nothing.”

but it wasn’t nothing.

lando appeared behind you, a hand on your lower back. you leaned into him, recognizing his touch, and you got a brief wave of panic wondering if he heard your conversation with p.

“p,” lando said over your shoulder. she looked up. “do you still have your bracelet making kit?”

she nodded again, though you weren’t quite sure what he’d need it for. you guessed you’d find out eventually, because lando uttered, “it’s a secret, sorry baby.”

and he followed p to her small table, pulling out the kit from her backpack. she had taken lando’s hand to guide him, and you watched fondly.

too fondly, you thought, and knew you were in deep shit.

the morning of the dutch grand prix had you biting at the corners of your fingernails with anticipation. the summer break you had spent with lando was more than you could imagine— filled with delicious foods, sunny weather, morning swims, and of course, the sex. with more free time that lando had, he was utterly obsessed with you. he worshiped the ground you walked on, and it made you feel like more than the queen you deserved to be.

in the paddock you stood, shifting on your feet, anxiously fiddling with your purse once your fingernails sufficed. lily joined at your side, ethereal with her effortless beauty, and she nudged you with her elbow. “you look nervous,” she gave a short laugh.

you scoffed but joined in on her antics. “do i?” you certainly did. lily raised her brows to inquire further of your apparent distress.

relenting, you couldn’t resist her. there was no reason to— you were both practically attached at the hip. ever since oscar had been signed to mclaren, the two of you were inseparable. the famous mclaren WAGs.

your relationship with lando had been going on for two years now. sure, you’d had some rocky slopes to climb with the schedule of his career and the development of your own; that’s the thing about relationships though, isn’t it? that no matter what hill you’d have to climb, you’d find one another on the other side. the two of you wanted to make it work, so there was no obsolete universe in which you’d never find each other.

“he needs this, lils.” you practically sighed, finally gaining the courage to look her in the eye. she looked at you with the same softness that a mother would, or a best friend that you could count on.

“you know he’ll do well.” oh, don’t you know it. lando, whilst on vacation, never took a moment’s worth of rest. he wanted this just as much as you did for him, a second career win. it was all that you could think about the moment you stepped off the plane before him in zandvoort. it was going to happen. you had a feeling.

and a good one at that.

qualifying swept by in a flash. the saturday afternoon was a clean sweep for your boyfriend in the front row. you couldn’t be more proud of him. when he was finished with his interviews and taking his leave with his half removed fireguard, you launched at him.

flinging your arms around his neck, he gripped onto your waist and thighs like his life depended on it. it did. your nose found the sweat against the column of his neck, inhaling deeply. you melted into him.

lando felt the same. with his forehead burrowing into the hair on your scalp, he let out a deep breath that he’d been holding since he got out of the car.

“missed my sweet girl,” he breathed, the sweat and perspiration heating the hairs on your head. you sighed softly, relaxing into him as he held you tighter.

you broke away from him, setting yourself on the ground. you stood happily in front of him, rocking on your heels and playing with the hem of the black, sponser-ridden firesuit.

“‘m so fucking proud, lan. pole? pole on the first race back?” you were in shellshock, overjoyed disbelief.

he raised a hand to cup your face before he’d be whisked away. the bracelet on his wrist caught your eye, one that he must’ve put on once he stepped out of the car. the friendship letter bracelet read loudly to you, it letters all capitalized.

‘daddy’

you gripped his hand, observing the ornament. you raised a brow. is this the bracelet he had made with p?

lando let out a short laugh. “like it?”

you flushed, staring down at the small, dainty thing. it had you shifting on your feet, ideas and fantasies running wild through your pillage of a mind. “maybe.” you hummed, stroking the beads with your index finger.

“wore it for you.”

the statement had you standing up straight. “really now?” lando nodded.

and before he was whisked away, he whispered into your ear, “don’t get any ideas, baby. i know that look.”

you were rendered speechless, and by the time you managed to open your mouth, he had already left through the door.

the following day was race day. you were dressed flawlessly, curating perfection with your outfits to match the same prestige that lando had with his fans. also, you enjoyed feeling pretty. looking pretty, as lando would often say to you. he didn’t forget this morning either, arriving to the paddock with you in tow, hand wrapped tightly with yours.

as he took selfie after selfie, signed hat after hat, he didn’t forget to remind you, “you look beautiful,” that always brought a smile to your face, a blush fanning your cheeks.

when the two of you made it inside of mclaren’s hospitality, you were greeted by both lily and oscar. you gave her a warming hug, and she returned it with the same affirmation. when you separated, she danced on her tip-toes. lando and oscar side stepped toward the tea and coffee station, chatting amongst themselves.

“wow!” you were confused, raising a brow. “front row for him, hmm? told you, had nothing to worry about.”

you rolled your eyes, still holding anxieties for the race. you were always concerned going into a weekend. no matter how many grand prix’s you’ve attended, seen lando come out safe and sound, you still picked at the skin of your fingertips. anxious habits die hard.

lando’s managers came in alongside oscar’s beckoning both mclaren drivers to follow them to get ready for the race. lando found you instantly, his hands finding the handles on your hips, squeezing inward. you tensed at the action, wondering what had him on such edge.

you spun, hands running from his chest up to his neck, his cheeks. you cupped his face in your hands, sheepishly smiling.

“you’ll win this for me?”

he scoffed, “always.”

you smiled harder—if that was possible— and connected your lips with his. he returned your kiss, diving deep into your mouth. he held you close by your lower back, as if this was the last time that he’d ever kiss you. he sought to deepen your kiss by the clacking of your teeth, his tongue incessantly searching the inside of your mouth.

you separated yourself, still holding onto his cheeks. lando dipped his forehead against yours, seeking another kiss, but you pulled away. “go. they’re waiting for you.”

“don’t care.”

you flushed, allowing him one last peck before you patted his cheek. “seriously. go.”

he chuckled to himself, kissing the top of your head, uttering a soft “i love you,” before being swept away.

“i love you too.” you mouthed, returning your attention back to lily. she was in awe of how you and lando behaved, carving such a rugged, playful boy into a man of posture and mannerisms that were only reflected by your good nature.

“what?”

“nothing…” she looked away.

“lily.”

“you’ve got that man on a leash,” she broke into a fit of giggles. you looked back to where they were walking out. lando had been looking for you, then at you. he gave a wave, you returned it, then looked back at lily.

“i prefer the term ‘free-roaming.’”

the race was coming to an end with a single lap left. lando led the race with a twenty-two second lead, and your hands were clasped tightly together with your headset on. you listened carefully to his radio messages, sassy and revving, and had your eyes locked onto the screen in front of you. with lily by your side, the two of you were anxiously awaiting the end.

your face suddenly appeared on screen, displaying your glistening eyes, perfectly done makeup and hair. a chic smile grew on your cheeks. you turned towards the camera man and allotted a small wave. your name appeared under the screen, lando norris’ partner.

god…

was there anything more prideful than that?

surely there was, but it didn’t matter to you. you were there to support your boyfriend, lando, your lando, and it was more than enough to see that you were recognized as that.

the checkered flag appeared and lando was on the headline for crossing. you had to clutch your heart, hoping to grip it from the inside out to slow its beating, and it didn’t cease when his mcl38 zipped past the flag.

there was an eruption of cheers throughout the garage and you were swarmed with love by the fellow mechanics and lily, too, who was happy for you to witness such a grand victory. a more than well earned victory.

a second one in the books for him. you couldn’t have been happier.

the podium gathering didn’t take long, and you managed to be at the front of the barricade, shoved forward by the team. you stood there, graceful and beautiful as he always saw you, and you were the loudest to clap and cheer as he walked out from the cool down room.

“your winner, lando norris…!” and you couldn’t help the tears that fell down your cheeks, the camera picking up your emotional feedback on the big screen. his eyes caught to it from the bannister, stepping up onto the tallest podium, and found you right at the front. his heart melted, dripped a red hot flame that burned for you. to see you there for him, emotional above all, solidified his feelings. what he wanted in his future.

you. you above anything else. you above racing, his career, his everything. he had nothing if you weren’t by his side.

he took off his pirelli hat and let the national anthem play. the camera panned away from you then to zak brown. you swayed gently to the anthem, lost in your own world of loving him. you saw him through clear glasses, though he was always your rose. there was nothing more that you wanted in the future than to be with him. you and lando.

after his attributed champagne pop, the crowd dissipated from the pit lane and you engaged in conversations with different women, friends, and coworkers of mclaren. you were jovial with your presence, engaged as much as you could be, though your thoughts kept tracing back to him. lando, lando, lando.

you ended your evening in conversations with the ferrari women— alexandra, rebecca, and one of charles’ friends, marta. you’re a recent acquaintance, meeting her only just a few moments ago. she was noticeably pregnant, and you wondered if that was just the recurring theme of the day.

“how far along are you?” rebecca chimed in.

“about twenty weeks, i think.” she smiled, holding her bump and leaning back into one of her heels to get a more comfortable angle.

“half way there! are you excited?” you asked her, sipping your sparkling water.

“of course,” she grimaced, though there was joy behind her eyes. “it can be hard, but it’s worth it. always worth it to see my husband with my daughter, and now it’ll be brand new with this babe.”

you gave her a heart-warming smile.

“they kick every so often—” she grimaced again, reeling her face into a tight knot. “like right now. do you want to feel?” she was looking at you. it took you a second to understand that she was referring to you, but you jumped at the opportunity.

“are you sure…?”

marta nodded. “put your hand here,” she placed your hand on her right side. you waited a moment before there was a small lurch beneath your palm. you looked up at her in pure disbelief, marveled by such a feeling. you wondered what it’d feel like to feel your own baby kick.

“so…” alexandra leered mischievously, “do you plan on having children? with lando?”

is everyone asking that today?

you stood up straight, embarrassed by the question, and brushed a piece of your hair behind your ear. “for sure. there’s no one else i want. whenever the time is right.”

“he’d be such a good dad.” alexandra added, and you couldn’t agree more.

“you should’ve seen him earlier with penelope—” the girls were reeling at your story. “making bracelets with her. almost tripped over my own dress,” you covered your mouth to laugh, attempting to keep your voice down.

“someone has baby fever.” marta commented.

“ugh,” rebecca groaned. “you two are picturesque. alex and i were just talking about it.”

“oh?” you wished to know more by their insinuation. it wasn’t often that you listened to anything about you or lando’s relationship. half of the time it was negative comments from fans across social media, and you didn’t want the other half to get to your head. you knew you were lucky as is, the least you could do was stay humble.

“ohhhh most definitely.” alexandra nodded. “you’ve been together for what— ever? we’re waiting for an engagement post.”

you were floored. it has been a good amount of time. “so am i,” it came as a laugh. you wondered if lando thought about it. if the thought ever crossed his mind— the possibility of you becoming his wife.

it did.

he was watching you. he’d been done with his interviews for a good ten minutes now, but he was gripped by the scene unfolding before him. he had distracted himself by glancing at his phone, pretending to be scrolling through notifications. but he was staring. hard.

your hand was so tender-loving as it grazed marta’s baby bump. you looked up at her with a graceful smile, asking her important questions about her pregnancy. why were you so interested?

fuck, he hoped the answer he wanted was what you were thinking.

you, pregnant in your floral dresses, pleated gowns, traipsing around the halls of your joint home. barefoot, glowing, effervescent. he could see it now. the vision coming to life, coming to fruition from just a mere fantasy. he felt his dick twitch in his pants, his groin running hot.

he overheard the conversation, too.

“do you plan on having children? with lando?”

for sure. there’s no one else i’d want.

fuuuuck. lando had to turn around, attempting to calm himself down. his entire body was aflame, an eternal gloss of bliss for wanting you. needing you. he needed to feel you. your touch. your skin beneath him, the way you curl effortlessly against the shape of his body.

yeah, he’s fucked.

after a few calming deep breaths, he was at least presentable. with his calmed down cock, he immediately made a beeline in your direction. he wanted—no, needed to get his hands around you as soon as possible. it was a world-ending feeling that suffocated him, gripped him by the throat.

you heard him approach before you saw him. lando’s hands were warm around your hips as he pulled you close. you felt the outline of his cock in his pants as he jut his hips forward. you turned your head over your shoulder, glancing up at him.

his nose found a home in the curve of your neck. you giggled when you felt his stubble tickle your skin, a hand coming instinctively to hold the side of his face tight against your skin. he breathed soundly against you, finding eternal peace of mind plastered against your body.

“it was nice seeing you alex, rebecca.” you began to bid your farewells. “marta, it was a pleasure to meet you.” marta leaned in for a hug, which pulled you away from the warmth of lando’s body. you felt like a snail ripped from its shell— hollow, cold.

“the same for you,” pregnancy looked good on her. though, you can’t recall the last time you’ve seen her without a baby blooming inside her. “if you ever need advice…alex has my number.”

you blushed, feeling lando’s hand around your lower belly tense. “thank you. i’ll be in touch.” you glance towards rebecca and alexandra, following lando’s pace back to the car.

lando’s eyes were hot as they drilled holes into the side of your head. you could feel it, though you weren’t even looking at him. “i can feel your urge to talk, lan.”

he laughed, holding your hand tight in his. “no. no, it’s nothing.”

you stopped dead in your tracks, pulling your hand from his, crossing your arms over your chest.

“okay, okay,” he apologized, taking your hand back into his own, bringing it to his lips to kiss. his lips were warm and wet against your skin. your breath hitched.

“well, go on, then.”

“this is the congratulations i get? damn, baby, you’re rugged.”

you shoved his face away, beginning to walk back to the car once more. “you know i’m proud. don’t be silly, now.”

“i know, i know,” there was a brief silence. “you can show me in other ways.”

“lando!” you gasped, and he broke into a fit of laughter. “dirty bastard.” you mumbled.

“what was that, baby?”

“nothing. nothing. just like what you wanted to tell me, i guess.” two can play at this game. you heard him scoff, but ultimately relent.

“alright, alright. i just…” he became shy with the tone of his voice. you could recognize it instantly. “heard your conversation with the girls, is all.”

you attempted your best effort to still your facial expressions from annoyance, shock, embarrassment, and all of the fucking above.

“you heard…all of it?”

“the gist.”

you tried to cover your face to shield yourself from the world. god, that was your fucking nightmare. you hadn’t ever even touched upon a subject like that with him before. and now he had heard it from you talking to your girlfriends? oh, you just felt like the worst girlfriend in the world right now.

“fuck. i didn’t mean to—”

“no, baby,” he opened the car door for you to slip into the passenger seat. you stepped in, gripping his forearm to sit down.

when he climbed in himself and turned over the engine, you shifted to face him. before you could even open your mouth to speak, he cut you off.

“i want kids, too, you know. with you.”

“oh.” a weight lifted from your shoulders in that moment, and then you felt utterly stupid for thinking that he would’ve reacted badly. this is your lando you’re talking to. a man you can share anything with. “you do?”

he looked flabbergasted. “you’re joking, right?”

you shot your hands up in defense. “i don’t know! children aren’t exactly…temporary. i just— i didn’t know if you thought of me—”

“you’re permanent, love.” his hand wrapped around your thigh as he pulled out of the driver’s lot, whipping past the fans that were keen on snapping a picture of him.

though you’ve known that, deep down, it still hit you like the first time he told you that he loved you. a jaw-dropping epiphany that had been right in front of you the whole time. you’d been short-sighted, enjoying every moment that you had with him, and had become unknowing about the future you’ve been perpetuating with him.

you covered his hand with your own, playing with the bracelets around his wrist. the charm bracelet ‘daddy’ dangled between your fingers, rolling the beads over and over again.

“you’d make a good daddy, wouldn’t you?” you said the words under your breath, but even he could hear them like you’d shouted them in his face. he tightened his grip around your thigh.

“don’t say things like that,” he shook his head, eyes locked on the road ahead.

the air became heavy between you two. when wasn’t it? not only did passion run through your veins, but heinous desire breathed life to your souls.

“why?” you stroked the top of his hand with your nails. “you heard what i said to the girls.” his head lolled against the back rest. “what’s different now?”

you felt the car accelerate. it vibrated the cushion you were nestled atop of, sending shockwaves through your cunt.

“driving me fucking nuts, darling.”

you knew you were. it was the secret to your relationship— the two of you understanding what made you tick. seethe with lust until there was no other option for you to climb him like a tree.

it didn’t take long before he reached the hotel, pulling up to the front. you were getting your things to get up, but he was lost on his phone, pretending to be busy. “coming?” you asked.

“pfft—” you could see him roll his eyes through the rearview mirror. “i wish. give me a second.” you couldn’t help but huff to yourself under your breath, stepping out of the car with your heels clinking to the ground.

with your purse over your shoulder you stepped up onto the curb, but was distracted by a small voice echoing over your shoulder.

down the sidewalk was a mother and a stroller. you smirked lowly, taking only the few steps it’d take to reach the mother and child.

“oh my gosh,” you squealed. the mother was taken back, but by your demeanor and eyes on her baby, she returned a smile. by her pink bonnet and bunny swath, you knew she was the cutest thing you’d ever laid eyes on. “she is just the cutest thing!”

“thank you,” the woman said.

“she looks just like her mama,” you heard lando’s car door open, most definitely within earshot. “don’t you, sweet thing? yes you do!” you cooed at the baby, who erupted in a fit of louder giggles and mumbles.

the mother was flushed, but happy. “you’re too kind. you’re good with children? do you have any of your own?”

jackpot..!!

you clutched your purse as you stood up straight. you played into your theatrics, “oh gosh, i wish! my husband and i have been trying for ages, but he’s just so busy with work…”

the woman tsked with disappointment for you. “you’d make a beautiful mother,”

“you think so?”

she nodded her affirmation.

“that’s so sweet of you.” you were really milking this scene, especially that you knew lando was listening.

“is that your husband there?” she pointed to over your shoulder. and there he was, your husband, watching the two of you from behind the ajar car door.

“mmm, yes, it is.” you offered a cordial wave to him. he stuck two fingers up for a lazy wave, waiting for you to return to him. “i should go. it was a pleasure, ma’am. your baby is adorable.”

she nodded a thanks, and you took your sweet time walking back to the car. you could hear lando tapping the windshield incessantly. before his head dipped down back into the car he called, “get back in.”

you…admit, you were confused. brows furrowed, you opened the passenger side door and bent down, “why—?”

“get in the car,” your name was a rumble in his chest. you still didn’t know what he was doing nor going, and your stubborn self wouldn’t settle for a verbal answer.

you took too long for him. gripping your arm, he pulled you into the passenger seat, and you landed on your ass with a ‘thump’.

he fired up the engine again and pulled out of the traffic circle of the hotel. he radiated with heat— you could feel it from where you sat. “where are we going?”

he didn’t answer you.

you crossed your arms and legs, looking out the window. the area was unknown to you, but lando always seemed like he knew where he was going.

it took only a minute for him to pull into an empty level of a parking garage, dimly lit with only one overhead light at the entrance of the ramp. he put the car in park.

“what are we—”

you couldn’t finish your sentence until you were on his lap, hands gripping your waist so tightly that you had to gasp for air.

“husband?”

oh…!

well, this was a change you welcomed with open arms.

he lowered the seat back until you were straddled atop of him, fingers aimlessly toiling with the zipper of his jeans.

“don’t know what you’re—”

he snapped upward, gripping your chin between his forefinger and thumb. “baby,” he breathed, and you shivered. “what do you want?”

your hips naturally moved back and forth against his own, dress hiked well above your stomach. his hand snaked between your legs, feeling the wet patch in your underwear. he hummed when you didn’t reply, flicking his finger upward to graze your clit.

you mewled.

“what was that?”

your hand twisted around the hem of his shirt. you were already breathless, clenching around nothing except the sound of his words.

“tell me,” he muttered, staring up at your disheveled state. he made quick work of sliding your panties to the side, massaging the folds of your cunt between his fingers. you continued your writhing against him.

“want you,” was what you managed to breathe out, hips rutting against his palm. he tsked, but allowed you this moment. a moment for him to bask in the way that you move your hips, writhe against his clothed cock that was egregiously hardening by the second and each amount of pressure you applied.

he slid his fingers in and out of you with ultra maneuvering, in and out, all around. he was a mastermind when it came to feeling you up, exploring you both on the outside, and the in. you were in heaven, ultimately, when he curled his fingers so deeply upon thrusting them. your cunt tightened so viciously around him that he groaned, his head falling back and his hardened cock thrusting upward. to no avail, his dick was strained against the cloth of his pants.

“fuck,” he cussed, curling his fingers over and over again. your body began to shiver, and only began to fall from grace when his thumb traced against your clit. stimulation grew hotter and hotter, until you let out a piercing moan from the depths of your throat. he angled his fingers differently, making you squirm.

“lando!” you breathed, feeling your climax creeping up on you faster than you could even blink. your core tightened, a coil of veracious flames churning around each other manifesting a slew of energy that released sparks from your nerves. your folds were inflamed, puffy, beating hot that you couldn’t think straight. lando was touching you with his other hand anywhere that he could reach. he palmed your breasts through your dress, twisted a nipple to earn a delicious squeal.

“come on, sweet thing,” he encouraged you with that stupid lopsided smile of his, you were looking down on him, sweat beading at his forehead, pupils blown dark and wide. his hand that was groping your breast moved upward, threading around the column of your throat. “show daddy what you’re made of.”

his hand tightened, and you felt the coil snap. he continued to pump his fingers in and out, maneuvering so perfectly, hitting that exact spot with precision.

he knew you came when your eyes rolled back into your head, legs quivering around his waist. god, you’re a sexy thing.

his hand loosened from around your neck, dropping to your chest, fiddling with the van cleef necklace he had gifted you. it reeked of possession, marking you as his with the “l.n.” initials engraved on the back of the golden surface.

the moment of bliss passed before he was pulling the zipped down from your dress and throwing it from over your head. your panties were next, though the fabric was thin as is. there you were, bare and glistening, before your so-called ‘husband’ as you had worded it. he wouldn’t forget it, a spark igniting within him that was lit by the phrase leaving your tongue. he didn’t think that it would affect him so much—

but it did.

he made quick work of his own pants, shoving them down to his knees beneath you, breathless and needy.

you gripped the hem of his shirt. he lifted his arms to hasten the process, and the shirt went to the back seat. with his skin exposed, you couldn’t help but run your hands along his tan, toned chest. it made you dripping wet, though he was barely touching you now.

with your skin atop of his, carnage was sure to ensue. he took a drag of his fingers against your wet cunt and brought it to his lips. he sucked on them, releasing with a ‘pop.’ your mouth hung open in anticipation for what he was going to do next. he always kept you on your toes.

but this…this is not what you expected.

he took a ring from his index finger, plated in silver, and slid it onto your ring finger on your left hand. the wedding finger.

it stuck to your sweaty palm, sure enough to not slip off.

“let’s make it official then, pretty girl.”

you sat upon him astonished, looking down at the adornment that he had given to you. it dazzled on your finger.

“if you’re my wife, what does that make me?”

the words trembled from your lips, thighs tightening around his own. you could feel his dick sprung to life against your backside. “my husband.”

“good, baby, you learn fast.”

you gulped, finally taking a look at him from his propped upright position. he was downright smitten with you, guzzling everything about you inside of him. you were his, so much fucking so, that he was going to ruin you. and he didn’t even feel bad for wanting it.

“my husband…” you repeated, lowering your face down to meet his own. he smelled so good—a mix of sweat and his cologne.

his hand tangled into your hair, creating a makeshift ponytail to meet your eye level.

“makes me fucking crazy when y’say it…”

you knew that was the truth. you’d known the minute you sat down in the car. his demeanor had changed, shifted to something darker that you didn’t quite understand. it was insane enough as is that you’d discovered so many things about him within a short period of time.

“husband, daddy…what’s the difference?” you cooed, kissing up and down his neck. he groaned, landing a smack on your ass that had you giggling.

“‘ll just make you a mommy if you keep throwin’ that word ‘round.”

you grinned ear to ear. against his cheek, you took a deep breath in, before letting go.

“daddy.”

if you’ve ever made a good decision in your life, this has to be the best. a switch flipped. gears started to turn in his head. the spark plug burst into flames.

you were his undoer,

the key to his shackled restraint,

the sun to his universe.

it was always you. you’d been right in front of him for the past two years. two years to get to this point. two years for the woman he loved most in this world to be sucking his neck whispering ‘daddy’ into his ear.

lando sat upright in the seat. with a hand at the back of your head, he forced eye contact with you. this was different. this look. you could feel it in your heart, your folds, as they began to beat synchronously. life with him was euphoria, and sex had been the serendipitous release for both of you.

but seeking the future together?

heaven incarnate.

despite being locked inside such a tight space, lando managed to swap your position with a suave move. you were on your back, shocked by his carnal rampage, as he hooked your legs upward. your toes scathed the ceiling of the car, pressed deep into the metal chassis.

“kiss me,” you demanded with the breath that you could take. he didn’t waste a second, leaning down to your lips and capturing you with the most breathtaking press that he could muster. his tongue and your own fought for dominance over one another; you lost, quickly, unable to match his revered pace.

he wanted to eat you from top to bottom. devour your insides, carry you with him every day of his life. you would be his, one way or another, and he didn’t care how it was.

lucky enough, you were more than willing to be his bride, his lover, his person.

because he was yours.

then he was inside of you. braving the treachery of your tight walls, he hissed when the tip of his cock slipped through your folds. you’d been dripping on the leather seat.

“fuck, baby…” his head fell to the crevice of your neck and collarbone.

“oh my goddd…” the moan you both let out was terribly lewd, grotesque, even, with how he didn’t start a pace. you both savored this sweet moment of lust, passion, and a figurative toast to a lifelong commitment to fucking one another.

with each thrust he took, he aimed to make a statement. deeper and deeper he penetrated you, his cock crafted of divine measure with how he quartered your g-spot.

you could never stay still beneath him. it had him on edge the way you squirmed. dare say it was one of the most favorite things about you, though the list would be never-ending. you shiver from pleasure, leaning into him as your cunt squelches beneath you.

echoes of moans bounce off the interior of the car, whilst a smile of greed and possession conceives on his own cheeks. the angle he has you at is deeper than any that you’ve had before— it left no room for noncommittal nature, no room for you to complain about wanting him closer, more, more, more.

“y’feel me here?” his hand rest on your lower belly, your womb, as he applied pressure. you do feel him there. the indent of his cock is poignant, bulging out from the skin.

“mhm…!” you whine, trying to keep your mouth shut from the onslaught of moans pouring out.

his attention turned to your tits as he swallowed a nipple whole with his tongue, sucking feverishly at the sensitive bud. it had you weak, dribbling to puddy.

he could only think about how you’d look pregnant. swollen tits, round belly, glowing with his child.

“this what you wanted?” he grunted, his pace quickening. you were too dumb to speak, a droplet of drool leaking from your mouth. “hm? fuck you—fuck, fill you up?”

your back arched at the sentence, not knowing that his words could have such an arousing effect on you. this arousal was different. the way you clench around him was different. your actions spoke a lot louder than your words.

“yeah? i can feel you, darling.” sounds of skin slapping and your hoarse voice could only be heard. he fucked you so good, treated you even better. fuck it, you’d rather be pregnant than anything else.

“please, please…” you didn’t know what you were pleading for, in truth— he was already fucking you like he’d been in a rut.

“yeah? that what you want? want a baby?”

your head nodded furiously up and down, tears of pleasure streaming down your cheeks. lando bent down to kiss them away, followed by a capturing of your lips. he swallowed your breaths, your moans. he trailed kisses down the column of your throat; your collarbones, breasts, nipples, nothing went untouched by his mouth.

“god…these…” he muttered against your tits, voice sending shockwaves through your body. “imagine how big they’d be.” he managed to chuckle to himself. “swollen and beautiful,” he kissed the top of your abdomen.

“lando…”

his head shot up from his daze.

“the time is right. please, please—” your words seemed to hit him like a truck. the foreplay had turned reality, and he was more than ready to lurch into fate.

“what, pretty girl?”

your face flushed, biting your lip. “give me a baby, need it—lan, need it so bad.” your hand found the back of his neck, tugging on the strands of his hair.

he tsked, his pace evening out to a level throttle. your lips formed a sweet pout, and he stroked your chin with his index finger. “give you?” he mocked. “oh, don’t think that’s how we ask, do we?”

“lan…please, please, can i have your baby? need it so bad lando, need it…” you swallowed your breath. “daddy…wanna make you a daddy…please.”

it was more than enough for him. “atta girl.” he grunted, deepening his lackluster thrusts into thrilling rides on his cock. “y’learn fast…kids ‘r gonna be so smart.”

“yes, yes! so good, lan.” you heaved, the heat in your cunt finding a boiling point, and he felt it by how tight you became around him.

“go on, baby, take it. be a good girl and take it all.” you’d do anything to hear your lando call you a good girl. it had been more than enough to send you over the edge into a spiraling orgasm that had slick seeping around his cock. your vision whitened, and you could only see the shadow of your ‘husband’ through the light.

with sloppy thrusts, lando came with ease. he didn’t pull out urgently, letting his cum soak inside of you. he peppered kisses along your ankles, your calves, and let them fall to the seat.

out of breath, your chests rose and fell at a rapid pace. lando’s forehead connected with your own, and through the haze of post-sex, he smiled at you.

you smiled back. the two of you broke into a laugh.

“fuckin’ knew that was gonna happen today.” he commented lazily into your chest. a hand of yours threaded through his brown curls.

“your mastermind plan to babytrap me.”

he raised a brow. “did you plan on leaving?”

you gave him a knowing look. “not in the slightest.”

he became embarrassed and sheepish as he hid his face into your ribs. “no chance of it, now.”

you chuckled, flexing your fingers to see the ring still there. “i want a real proposal, by the way.”

his head shot up. “what? this wasn’t good enough?”

you palmed his face with one hand, and tugged the back of his curled head with the other. “bastard.”

it only took you two ten minutes to get your clothes back on from such a leisurely excursion from the empty parking garage. covered in his spit, sweat, and cum, you didn’t feel….dirty.

when he finally pulled up to the valet and opened the door for you, you stepped out as graciously as possible. though your hair was a tangled mess— you tried your best. lucky enough it was late enough to where minimal paparazzi were gathered. thank god.

you shifted on your feet, shimmying the dress down, but lando came to your rescue. he pulled the dress down where it was crumpled at the back, caught between the hem of your soaked underwear.

“that was a rental, wasn’t it?” you pointed out, looking over your shoulder.

“they should auction it.”

you spun around and laughed in his face, gagged by the ego he has. “you have a big head.”

“need all that room for you.”

“cheesy.”

lando’s eyes lit up— though exhausted from the day and your antics, the sun still rose for him— “almost forgot—” he reached into his pocket whilst you waited patiently.

he pulled out a bracelet.

a friendship bracelet.

“thought it suited you.” he put it around your wrist, and you analyzed it clearly. in white, capitalized letters it read:

“MOMMY”

“you really had this thing planned.” you were impressed.

he shifted on his heels, throwing his hands up as if saying ‘what can i say?’ “p thinks you’re pregnant now.”

you gasped. “lando!”

“i mean…hopefully.” he winked as you fiddled with the jewelry, still not bothering to take off the ring from your finger.

“well…” you brought a finger to your lips, thinking, “we have to be certain, don’t we?”

lando was catching your drift as you walked backwards towards the entrance of the hotel, luring him in with your charisma. “perhaps…”

“so…we need to try again.” he wasn’t going to argue with that. “and again.” or that. “and again, for good measure.”

“you’re gonna kill me, baby.” he whined, chasing you up the steps. you squealed, running forward. inside the elevator you two went, clicking the floor for your room.

after further inspection, lando’s brows furrowed after he glanced over you. “what?”

he covered his mouth to shield his devious smile.

“what, lando?”

he coughed to hide his amusement, but it was a very bad act. “you’re…”

“what?”

“you’re dripping.”

you looked down at your thighs and saw the glistening reflection of his cum seeping out of you. fuck. maybe the first time was the charm, but you hoped it wasn’t.

you really hoped it wasn’t.

tags ; @landoslutmeout@basicallyric@mybluesoul1@toriiez@customsbyjcg-blog@sofs16@strengthandstay@mybluesoul1@f1fantasys@cmleitora @idgasb @amalialeclerc @laneyspaulding19 @staurdvst @oreosareara @sideboobrry11 @mortallyblueninja @fionamiller123 @2pagenumb @marvelfangirl04 @brune77e @allabouthappiness @tellybearryyyy @ringdingdingdingx @tillyt04 @danywonderland @rosebud224 @simpfortoomanymen @nataliambc @forcesensitivesoulmate @sweate-r-weathe-r @norlestappen @madszoca @milkandcookhot @fionamiller123 @16f1lc @jwiltsz @plotpal @inevesgf @theonottsbxtch

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ithebookhoarder · 9 months ago

Note

Hello hi ! 🤗

Can you do a "bau reacts" when they are undercover in public and about to be found out so the reader just starts making out with them to pretend they are just a couple?

(BAU Headcanons) Making out Undercover

A/N: Mwahaha. Oh, this is a good prompt. Thanks for making me daydream all afternoon. Enjoy my lovelies 😉 Also, as a note, I'm writing the main BAU where I'm at watching it (season 13) plus Luke as he was requested previously 💕

Warnings: Mentions of threat, mentions of weapons, alcohol references, sexual references, implied cases / unsubs. (Let me know if I missed any)

Aaron Hotchner

We know Aaron doesn’t go undercover for most cases, so this would have to be a big case to get him into the field.

This man would be in shock. Let’s be real. He would freeze in place and try to argue for a split second until he realises what you’re trying to do and why - even if you were already together.

As soon as they’re gone though, you’d glance up and see his usual steely glare that tells you you’re in for a scolding once this is over.

However, you’d have to be blind to miss the way he lingers for a moment, holding you close for half a second longer than necessary.

“I feel I should remind you that we are in the field, and whilst it may have worked, I can’t endorse it as a tactic in future. Understood?”

“So I’m hearing that we’re leaving this off of our case report then?”

“Agreed. I don’t need to give Strauss anything else to use to go after us and the team.”

He would roll his eyes and take off after the Unsub, but you’d have to be blind to miss the way he smirks as he goes.

David Rossi

He’d be a little embarrassed but mostly quite smug about the whole thing, even if you were supposed to be undercover.

“Well, I can safely say in all my years in this field I don’t think that’s ever happened to me before.”

He’d also refuse to let you apologise for your actions afterwards either.

One, because he’s kind of flattered.

Two, because he’s been around the block a few times and knows that sometimes you have to do what it takes to solve a case or protect yourselves.

Three, you were supposed to be a couple and kissing is what couples do. He’s only sour because if anything he would have liked to be the one who kissed you.

“Relax about it, would you? I won’t tell you some of the things Gideon and I had to do back in the old days. That was before all this new paperwork and guidelines, so that’s all I’ll say on the matter.”

You make a point of remembering to ask him about that at your next night off over drinks.

Derek Morgan

Derek is always up for anything so I feel like he’d be pretty relaxed about being undercover with you, even if you weren't together romantically. He has no issue playing your pretend boyfriend for one night, and is quick to wrap his arm around you.

Which is why it would be such a surprise to him when it’s you who initiated the kiss.

Derek would freeze for like a second, but only out of shock. However, you know he wouldn’t fight you on it.

The second his brain catches up to his body he would be kissing you back, doing everything in his power to match your energy and sell this kiss.

If anything, you’re going to have to be the one to break away once the coast is clear and remind him you’re still technically in the field and that your team is probably wondering where the hell you are right now - and why you stopped responding to your comms.

“I’m just saying, if we get to do that then we need to be partnered up more often.”

“Yeah yeah, Morgan. Let’s just hope Penelope didn’t see that else we’ll never be hearing the end of it.”

Emily Prentiss

She’s been undercover plenty of times in her life and spent a whole chunk of time actually fake-married to Doyle for an op, so she’d be the most comfortable and understanding if you grabbed her for a kiss - especially if you were meant to be a fake couple.

She’d work it out pretty quickly and would respond in kind, pressing herself against you and running her hands all over you.

“Quick thinking with the kiss,” she’d whisper as she brushed a kiss against your neck.

She’d also know exactly where the Unsub is afterwards too, having kept watch in her peripheral vision.

She wouldn’t even have to break eye contact with you before she informed you, “3 o’clock. He just left out the fire exit.”

With that, she’d be off.

She also probably wouldn’t even bring it up again until you’re both back on the jet. Then she’d be smirking at you across the top of her drink and chuckling to herself.

“Normally I’d insist dinner first but given that we caught that bastard I think we’re even.”

JJ knows about going undercover and it takes a lot to rattle her. She would probably go along with the action, even if she’d stay kind of stiff for a good minute or so.

However, she’s a good agent and knows about maintaining a cover so quickly catches on when you pull her in.

She’d return the kiss, shooting glances out the corner of her eye when she thinks it might be safe to check on their target. If it doesn’t look like they’re buying it, she’ll turn things up a notch and spin you around so that she could take control.

“My gun is under my jacket. Reach for it slowly if he comes any closer,” she’d warn, but thankfully you don’t need it. Eventually they leave, distracted by something else, leaving you and JJ to recover.

After catching your breath, you both take off in the direction your target just left in. You can tell JJ is trying not to laugh about what just happened, choosing to make it funny rather than uncomfortable if you weren't together romantically.

Which means you know she’d enjoy teasing you about it in front of the others, making your cheeks burn as she announces on the jet: “For the record, even though it was a ‘cover kiss’ it was pretty good. Just saying. Maybe you should give Morgan some tips. That way he might get a girl to call him back after a first date.”

Luke Alvez

It doesn’t matter if he’s ex-army or whatever. Undercover is not really Luke’s thing and even then, he is more used to infiltrating gangs than playing house.

Basically, he would be surprised by your actions, despite being undercover together. Like, I can see his eyebrows hitting his hairline so fast, bless him. He’d look like a deer in headlights.

“Woah, sweetheart, slow your roll-“

“- Luke. Shut up and kiss me. Now.”

“I - ok.”

Just like that, he’d take control, turning and pressing you against the nearest wall in an attempt to shield you from whoever was watching. He’d also be such a gentleman about it if you weren't already together romantically, keeping his hands on your waist and pulling away the minute he’s sure the danger has passed.

Even then, he’d wait a minute before letting the two of you move from your position, just in case they come back. He’s your partner and he’s returning the favour for you keeping him safe, even if in an unsuspected manner.

“You good?”

“Luke. Shouldn’t I be asking you that? I was the one who planted myself on you.”

“Potato, po-tah-to. Are they still over there?”

“No. They just left out the back.”

“Then let’s go, partner. Let’s catch this freak.”

Penelope Garcia

If Penelope is in the field then you know she is already hella nervous and out of her element. It doesn’t matter if there was a reason she was needed for this particular assignment, she would just take that as added pressure not to let everyone down.

Which is why I’m sure you’d feel worse about planting one on her - even if it does also help distract her from worrying for a minute.

All I can imagine is her giving her trademark squeal of confusion and surprise, even if you gave her a hasty warning - and apology - about what you were going to do.

She’d be stunned at what was happening and probably takes a minute to realise she should probably try and kiss you back, or at least look less visibly startled about it.

“I feel I should point out how unfair it is that this is permitted as ‘suitable workplace behaviour’ as we’re undercover, yet my flirtatious texts with Agent Morgan are not? I will be writing a strongly worded email when we get back, telling HR they can go shove their-”

“Pen? Hey, focus here. Unsub still watching us.”

“Oh, right. Sorry! Ahem… as you were?”

Also, you know that like a day or so later, once it’s all over, she sends you an email informing you that your new username on the BAU system is now ‘smoochykins’ and she will not change it until it becomes not-funny for her… which will probably be never. After all, Morgan has been ‘Chocolate Thunder’ for the last two years and is still going strong.

Dr Spencer Reid

Spencer has been undercover before and is usually quite calm about it, even if it is faking a date or maintaining a story. Still, despite having to do your jobs, you’d hate to make him uncomfortable, knowing how he feels about any kind of physical contact - especially if you're not together.

As he says, with the amount of bacteria shared by shaking hands you’d be safer kissing … guess it was time to take it literally.

He’d be blushing like a tomato as you grab his jacket lapels and pull him close. And honestly? it’s kind of adorable. As is the way he tries to kiss you back, even if he still takes a minute to remember how to even move his body.

I’m just picturing the Lila kiss in season one and how he eased into that and how stunned / embarrassed he seemed afterwards. He would pretty much be like that, but with a fake smile on his face as he rambled in your ear.

“What was that?”

“I was covering our asses. We’re undercover, remember? We’re supposed to be a couple and couples kiss. Also, I’d thought you know, genius, that kissing and displays of public affection make people extremely uncomfortable.”

“No kidding… Morgan can never find out about this.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice. You got a deal, pretty boy. This is between us.”

Masterlist

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sebsbarnes · 13 days ago

Text

unspoken part 2 || minho moon

minho x reader

summary: you don’t even see me, yet, i would walk through hell and across any sea if you asked me.

part one here!

warnings: angst! grammar errors most likely

word count: 1.1k+

masterlist

you've kept your distance from minho since the night at the gazebo. it was hard to fully avoid him since the two of you belonged to the same tight circle of friends. you'd cut the nights short claiming you were tired or skip dinner and lunch with everyone claiming you were trying to save money. truthfully, you weren't even sure if minho noticed your absence. he had been thrown full throttle into the honeymoon stage with his crush that he also hasn't been around as much.

the one place you couldn’t avoid minho was class. one, because you and minho never skipped class, and two, because you sat next to him.

you had signed up for an acting improv class to fill a gap in your schedule. you hated it if you were being honest. there was nothing you loathed more than performing in front of a group of strangers or friends, at that. each week you were forced to stagger up onto the stage and begrudgingly act. however, this week may have been your worst nightmare. the professor instructed that a small group of students would write short stories and the others will be randomly selected to perform one. of course, the performance was partner work and of course, you were assigned with who you sat with, and what a shock, you and minho were selected to perform later on in the week and not write.

minho’s head was buried deep in his phone the entire class. you weren’t trying to snoop, but it felt as if your eyes were magnets and minho’s screen was a beautiful big magnetic field. the text messages were littered with hearts and cute stickers. in a measly attempt, you acted as if you weren't staring when his head turned.

“i’m planning on officially asking them out this weekend,” he smiled.

you sucked on the inside of your cheek, desperately trying to suppress any negative remarks, “that’s… lovely.”

god, you felt horrible that you weren't being a supportive friend but you couldn't fake excitement for minho when your heart was crumbling to pieces.

most days you wished would pass quickly, hoping the sun would set early and the moon to take over signaling the start of a new day. this week, however, you wished twilight never came and time stood still so you could avoid the end of the week. unfortunately for you, that wish was never granted and you sat at your desk, drumming your fingers, patiently waiting for what was to come.

professor kwon summoned you and minho up to her desk and handed you each a copy of the short story you were about to perform.

"seems like your writer is quite fond of romance," she remarked as the paper slotted into your hand.

minho turned back to your shared desk without looking at the story but your eyes rapidly darted over the words before you scoffed, the papers nearly crumpled in your hand, "i'm not doing this professor kwon- this is," you laughed, "-this is not happening."

professor kwon's sharp eyes peeked over her glasses, "i suggest you do so if you want to pass the class. no assignment has been an issue for you before, why the sudden change?"

"it's nothing," you shook your head, anger laced in your tone.

her eyes scanned your face, lips pursed, "go practice."

with a sigh, you slumped into your chair. examining the paper and the long dialogue you had to act out almost immediately. the short story started in the middle of an argument between the two characters. it took every fiber of your being not to confront the classmate who wrote the story and ask her if she had been spying on you. the words on the page paralleling your current situation with minho in a way that was almost eerie, taunting you in your dismay. desperately, your mind spun of any ideas to get yourself out of this moment, but you heard minho start.

"just tell me!" minho pressed, acting in character.

your throat felt tight but you started nonetheless, “i can’t keep pretending that you don’t cloud every corner of my mind and every thought i have. some have called me crazy, said i was addicted to the idea of you, the idea of us that will never be. the us that will only exist in the quiet corners of my mind, hidden from the world. a sanctuary i preserve and escape to daily. and maybe- maybe they are right,” you paused briefly as your eyes started to sting with tears. you refused to look up at minho as you felt his eyes bore into you.

“you don’t even see me, yet, i would walk through hell and across any sea if you asked me. i would bear the brunt of any injury to have you notice me.”

a shaky exhale escaped your lips as you finally looked at minho, his gaze unwavering, “and… i love you. but, we will never be more than just a one-sided confession,” you whispered.

briefly, you stayed glued to your seat watching as minho’s expression became hard to decipher. the realization of what you’ve done came crashing down and you quickly threw the papers onto the desk and shot up from your desk muttering incoherent words and dashing out of class. you were gone before you could hear the whispers of the class asking each other what happened.

minho's features contorted in confusion as he watched you rip open the door and leave, but truthfully he was feeling confused before that. as he sat there listening to the words of your character, it felt too real. he observed the way your lip slightly trembled between words and the glaze of your eyes. he was wondering why his heart rate accelerated and his palms became clammy. his throat was tight and it felt like two tons was sitting on his chest, slowly and agonizingly piercing through his skin and crushing his bones and heart. there was a tiny voice in the back of his head cheering 'finally' as he listened to your character's words, words he wished were your own.

minho glanced back at the now abandoned script. he followed the lines until he noted your monologue was cut short. minho's eyebrows pulled together in confusion as he frantically flipped to the next page, searching for the remainder of the lines. he swallowed harshly as he realized you added in the last few sentences, the words that hit him the hardest.

“and… i love you. but, we will never be more than just a one-sided confession"

was nowhere on the script.

automatically his feet were moving at a rapid pace into the hallway. there was no sign of life beyond the echo of his thumping heart and heavy breathing.

____________

a/n: soo hehe did i mention i'm notorious for writing angst. i can't believe how many people loved part one so i had to continue this. ty!!

tag list: @5sos-saucyy @bangchansgirlsblog @tmr-simp7193 @animeenthusiastxoxo @tearsinmylatinaeyes345 @teaandbacon @mesmerizedkoo @byungazed @myselfsabotage @ferniessss

#xo kitty #minho #minho moon #xo kitty minho #minho x reader #minho x you #xo kitty fanfic #xo kitty x reader #minho moon x reader #min ho x reader #minho angst #xo kitty minho x reader #sang heon lee #xo kitty s1 #xo kitty s2 #min ho x you #xo kitty min ho x reader #xo kitty min ho #sebsbarnes

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drabblesandsnippets · 8 months ago

Text

The Bet

Hot Bucky Summer 2024 - Week 1

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Plus-size female character (unnamed)

Prompt: “Louder, let everyone hear you.” | [Screaming/Noisy Sex | Gangbang | Exhibiotionism] @buckybarnesevents

Summary: (7k) Bucky’s girlfriend thinks she can stay quiet during sex - Bucky’s more than happy to prove her wrong.

Warnings: 18+ Only. Fluff. Established relationship. Praise. Brief mention of insecurities. Dirty talk. Domination. Oral (f receiving). Fingering. Squirting. (Unprotected) PiV.

---------------------------

“Wait,” Bucky says, reaching for the remote yet again. “Why does she even care? I thought she hated him.”

Bucky and his girlfriend are cuddling on their king-sized bed, enjoying another quiet night at home - something their friends like to tease them about, but they’ll never change. Home is where all their favorite things are.

The moment Bucky pauses the show - for what feels like the hundredth time since they started the episode - she buries her face against his chest, her groan slightly muffled by his shirt.

Bucky’s laughter gently shakes her body as he asks, “What? I’m trying to understand!”

She picks her head up to glare at him, only slightly frustrated, a smile twitching at the corners of her mouth. “You’d understand if we started from the beginning instead!”

She’s been trying to get him to watch her favorite show for months now, and when he randomly suggested they watch the latest episode tonight, she wasn’t going to argue.

She’s regretting that now.

For someone as intelligent as Bucky, he’s oblivious to the inner workings of TV drama.

Bucky blinks slowly at her response, his eyes wide like she just said they should’ve gone to Sam’s impromptu karaoke party. And then he lets out an incredulous laugh, quick to point out, “There are ten seasons of this show! By the time we get caught up, there will be at least five more.”

Her mouth opens in surprise, and she pushes herself up, one hand on his stomach, her other hand moving to her chest like he’s just wounded her.

“First of all, there are six seasons.” Bucky playfully groans in response, the pout on her face telling him exactly where she’s going with this. “And even if there were ten seasons, you wouldn’t want to watch them with me?”

“Okay.” Bucky’s laughter reaches his eyes as he tosses the remote to the side - it’s clear he’s not going to be pressing play anytime soon.

He looks adoringly at his girlfriend as he sits up with her, his gaze never wavering. “Doll. Sweetheart. Love of my life. I’d enjoy watching paint dry with you.”

Her smile almost breaks through, but she holds back, patiently waiting for him to continue. He’s either about to make too much sense, or he’s about to dig the hole deeper.

After a soft, dramatic sigh, he gently tells her, “But, we haven’t even gotten through this episode, and it’s already been over an hour.”

The moment he says it, he has to hold back his laughter, her response exactly what he’s expecting.

Her mouth drops open again, and she laughs at the ridiculous notion that she’s to blame for their time-management issues.

With a quick shake of her head, and resisting the urge to poke him, she quickly points out, “You keep pausing to ask questions!”

The moment the words are out of her mouth, Bucky seems almost too eager to remind her of several moments that had nothing to do with him. Sure, he’s partly to blame, but most of the interruptions had nothing to do with him.

Like during the first five minutes when she kept getting up because she forgot something. Or when she had to search a familiar looking actor.

“Or,” Bucky continues, his tone gentle, even though he’s clearly enjoying himself. “When you swore you’d heard that one song before-.”

She cuts Bucky off before he can finish the last thought, shoving one of the pillows in his face, his hands quickly deflecting it.

“I get it!” she says, laughing with him as he pulls the pillow away from her before she can attempt to hit him with it again.

His slightly raised eyebrow tells her he’s waiting to see if she’s going to try to defend herself.

“Fine,” she relents, giving him another exaggerated pout that makes him grin. “I guess no marathons for us then.”

She glances at the TV where the episode is still paused before turning her attention back to Bucky, her own grin growing. “At least,” she starts, her eyebrow raising suggestively. “No marathons of the TV variety.”

Bucky laughs, a surge of arousal rushing over him at the mere suggestion, but has to shake his head, the disappointment clear on his face.

With a pointed look, he reminds her, “Sam’s down the hall.”

Sam materialized on their doorstep a couple of days ago to stake claim to their guestroom once again, this time while in the city for a friend’s birthday.

There hadn’t been any objections at the time - and there aren’t any now, as far as Bucky’s concerned.

He really doesn’t care if Sam hears them having sex. It’s not like Bucky’s never overheard him before. But Bucky knows his girlfriend. If she thinks Sam might have heard her, it’ll take her weeks before she’ll be able to be in the same room as him without turning red.

She’s not thinking about any of that, though.

It’s been a few days since there’s even been an opportunity for them to get lost in each other, and she doesn’t want to waste this one.

With a smile and a slight shrug, she simply says, “So? I can be quiet.”

Bucky’s bark of laughter rings out, and she narrows her eyes at him. Before she can even think about it, he quickly grabs the pillow still sitting between them so she can’t throw it at him and instead flings it to the side, making her laugh.

“What?” she asks, still feeling confident in her words. “I can be!”

“No,” Bucky says, trying to hold back his laughter as he shakes his head at her. The simple refusal of her statement makes her lips part in a surprised exhale, but before she can make an argument, he adds, “You are entirely incapable of being quiet, doll.”

He can’t help but lean just a bit closer to whisper, “Especially with me.”

That feels like a challenge to her. And even though she knows Bucky is probably right, she can’t just give in. She’s just as stubborn as he is, and she knows exactly how to play this.

With a quick flick of her tongue to wet her lips, she leans towards him, their mouths almost close enough to touch, and asks, “Wanna bet?”

Her question has the desired effect, causing Bucky’s stomach to flutter with a rush of excitement. She’s a strong, confident, capable woman, and there’s almost nothing she can’t do, especially once she puts her mind to it.

But, there’s not a doubt in his mind that he’ll have her screaming by the end of the night.

Bucky’s hand reaches out to brush a few strands of hair away from her face, his eyes glancing at her mouth as he starts to close the short distance.

Her hope to feel his lips on hers fades quickly, though, Bucky pausing to grin at her, needing to set the terms of their deal first.

“When you lose, we’re finally getting that swing.”

For the briefest of moments, she hesitates. The idea of a sex swing excites her, and it’s something they’ve been discussing for months - even going so far as to choose their favorite - but the intimidating feeling of being on display like that has never faded.

Bucky’s only ever made her feel beautiful, and sexy, and desirable, but that doesn’t mean he can completely erase decades' worth of insecurities.

Bucky doesn’t rush her, not with something like this. He’ll give her all the time in the world to decide if this is a bet she’s willing to take. And if she decides she’s not ready, then he’ll accept that without hesitation, no matter how much he wants her to say yes.

The anticipation is short lived though, because a smile spreads across her face and before she even says, “deal” he’s already hard, imagining how incredible she’ll look suspended and tied up for him, completely at his mercy.

There are so many possibilities, and the sooner he wins, the sooner he gets to make them all a reality.

Her lashes flutter when Bucky’s hand moves along her scalp, his fingers sliding through her hair to softly grip the strands. She allows him tilt her head back, putting her in the perfect position for him to finally kiss her, and she tries to remain patient.

It doesn’t matter, though, because after just a soft brush of his lips against hers, he’s pulling away again, the grin on his face causing her to let out a frustrated sigh.

As much as Bucky wants to just jump right into this with her, the faint taste of her on his lips making his cock twitch, he’s taking this bet seriously.

He meets her gaze, holding her head steady, and says, “We gotta set some ground rules first.”

She breathes heavily but doesn’t move, waiting for him to continue, wanting this just as much as he does.

“No covering your mouth,” he tells her, increasing the hold of her hair, making her gasp softly.

Bucky doesn’t miss the way her thighs tense with arousal, and he groans softly, pulling her closer so his lips brush across the corner of her mouth. “That includes no biting me.”

She lets out a soft exhale of a laugh, but doesn’t object, no matter how much she enjoys sinking her teeth into him when he’s fucking her hard.

And considering this bet and what’s at stake here, there are no plans to go slow tonight.

With a slight nod of her head, his fingers limiting her movement, she agrees, but she’s unable to stop herself from still being a bit of a brat. “Is that all?”

Bucky pulls back, narrowing his eyes at her, his breathing slowing down as he fights the urge to smile. He loves when she pushes back - it’s her way of telling him not to go easy on her.

“No,” he answers her, his vibranium hand suddenly coming up to wrap around her throat.

The brief flash of surprise that crosses her face is quickly replaced by a look of pure desire, her trust in him radiating off of her. It encourages him to keep going, his need for her reaching new heights.

“You’re also not allowed to tell me to stop just because you can’t be quiet.”

Her body tingles with pleasure, just like it always does when he takes charge, and she has to bite back a moan as the ache between her thighs intensifies.

She’s playing with fire, but all it does is excite her, even as she briefly wonders if she has an ounce of a chance of winning this bet.

The moment he asks if she agrees to the terms, she answers without hesitation, telling him, “Yes.”

With a cheeky grin, she adds, “And I look forward to winning.”

That’s all Bucky needs to hear and he pulls her against him, crashing his mouth against hers, his tongue immediately demanding entrance.

With his hand around her throat and his fingers gripping her hair, he keeps her in place so he can kiss her, leaving her breathless and desperate for more.

As much as Bucky enjoys taking his time with her, he’s on a mission tonight.

There’s a primal urge to claim her, to prove how quickly he can make her lose control. And there’s no doubt that he’s going to win this bet.

Within just a couple minutes, Bucky has her naked and writhing underneath him, her head resting on a pillow.

His lips follow a slow trail from her neck to her breasts, taking a moment to focus on her sensitive nipples, giving them both the attention they deserve, his ears trained on the soft noises of pleasure already leaving her.

Her hands never leave his body, needing something to hold onto to keep her focus, her fingers gently tugging at his hair while her other hand grabs at his shoulder, pressing against the defined muscle.

She’s already having to force herself to take slow, deep breaths, the occasional shift of hips causing his hard cock to tease along her wetness, making her want to beg for more.

She remains as quiet as possible though, her eyes drifting closed as Bucky’s mouth travels lower, taking his time to place tender kisses all over her soft stomach, reminding her how much he loves every single inch of her.

He doesn’t even care that she’s not looking at him right now. He’s just grateful for the way she gives herself to him, trusting him to treat her like she deserves.

With one last glance up, Bucky eagerly settles between her thighs, the smell of her filling his nostrils, making his mouth water.

The soft groan that leaves him makes her hips twitch, and he pauses for a second to take her in, both hands coming up to keep her spread wide for him.

She’s already so wet, the sight of her swollen clit just begging to be licked, and he can’t wait to hear her come apart for him.

The first slow swipe of his tongue along her slit causes her body to tense, the sudden sensation making her breath hitch, almost making her forget all about the bet.

Bucky learned her body so quickly when they first became intimate, and now, the familiar swirl of his tongue around her clit immediately makes her back arch, a moan getting trapped in her throat.

He loves the taste of her, happy to spend as much time between her thighs as she lets him, and even though that’s not what tonight is about, he still takes a moment to appreciate the delicious meal she’s offering him.

He alternates between long licks, and fucking her with his tongue, grinding his soft beard against her pussy to get as deep as he can, as if starved for more of her.

Despite Bucky’s own noises of pleasure getting louder, hers remain low, and it’s not long before the desire to hear her scream builds inside of him again.

Without warning, his mouth suddenly closes over her clit, his tongue resuming the perfect rhythm against the bundle of nerves and his hands grips her thighs, holding her in place.

She cuts off the harsh gasp that spills out of her, and her fingers tighten their grip on his hair as her hips move against his mouth, chasing her pleasure.

Despite half her focus on keeping her sounds under control, he’s still able to quickly bring her to the edge, and her other hand grips the bedsheet as the tension suddenly snaps.

As much as it turns Bucky on to watch her and feel her come for him, there’s something wrong about not hearing her as she loses control.

He refuses to pull away though, his mouth working her through her orgasm, his hands holding her, letting her ride out the waves. His own hips grinding against the mattress, his cock hard and heavy, aching for relief.

When she becomes too sensitive, he takes pity on her and quickly kisses back up her body, giving her a moment to catch her breath.

Her need for him is too overwhelming though, and within seconds, she meets him in a kiss, moaning at the taste of herself on his tongue.

She doesn’t allow herself to get lost in the moment for too long, her body craving more, and she reaches between them, her fingers wrapping around his thick cock, ready to remind him that she still has a chance of winning this bet.

Bucky welcomes her touch, his hips thrusting forward, groaning against her mouth.

She takes advantage of his pleasure-filled state, rubbing her thumb across the head of his cock, the tip slick with his arousal, and proudly states, “I told you I could be quiet.”

The laugh he makes in return sends a shiver down her back, and she can barely quiet the soft squeak as he pulls her hand away, his fingers wrapped around her delicate wrist.

He’s always careful not to cause her any real discomfort, but the look he gives her still makes her freeze, wondering what she’s gotten herself into.

“Oh sweetheart,” Bucky chuckles, slowly pinning her hands over her head as he starts to grind his cock against her. “We’re barely getting started.”

Her body tenses in anticipation, expecting him to thrust inside of her, but he doesn’t change his pace, his eyes taking in how beautiful she looks, all desperate and needy, her skin flushed.

Even after all this time with him, she’s still not used to all the attention he gives her, and she’s grateful that he allows her to move with him.

Each shift of her hips makes her breath quicken just a bit more, the length of his cock sliding along her clit, and she’s pretty sure she could come just like this.

The thought of it makes her body pulse with arousal, and she quickly nods her head, breathing quickly. “Please,” she whispers, her fingers flexing under his hold.

He grins down at her, tightening his grip slightly, keeping the same pace, watching her fight between completely giving in and trying to silence her noises.

Bucky wants the noises. He needs them. He needs to hear her whines and moans and cries as he brings her pleasure.

She’s clearly determined to win this, but so is he. And the moment he feels her almost reaching the edge, he suddenly stops, pulling his hips out of reach of her.

She has no idea how, but she manages to keep the whine of “no” down, her voice almost betraying her. Bucky’s soft laughter helps keep her focused, though, and she glares at him, breathing heavily.

Her mouth opens in protest, but before she can even think of how to react, his vibranium hand closes around her throat, pushing her down against the bed.

“Oh god,” is all she can say, her voice trembling as she tries to mentally prepare herself for whatever Bucky has planned.

He knows her too well though, and the moment he moves, she almost loses the bet.

His right hand slides between her thighs, and in one smooth motion, he fills her with two fingers, curling them inside of her to press against her front wall.

She bites her lip hard enough to almost draw blood, but she’s able to dampen her cry of pleasure as she throws her head back, both hands now gripping the sheet.

Bucky gives her no time to gather her composure before he starts moving, the heel of his hand rubbing hard against her clit while his fingers stroke over her g-spot.

She may not be speaking, but her body is talking, the sounds of her wetness filling the air. He growls his approval and leans over her, his metal fingers twitching against her throat.

“Listen to that,” he murmurs, watching her as he quickly works her towards another orgasm. “Your pussy’s talking to me, doll. Just begging for more.”

She pulls her lips inward between her teeth, biting down as she breathes heavily through her nose, the pleasure starting to make it harder to focus.

His words aren’t making it any easier, but she’s grateful that he doesn’t make her look at him, her eyes currently shut tight, her head pressing into the pillow underneath her.

There’s something so intoxicating to Bucky about being in charge of her pleasure, and he knows he’ll never get enough of her.

For just a moment, he forgets about the bet, his eyes taking in the way she writhes underneath his touch, everything about her encouraging him to keep going. Her back arching, her legs spread, hips thrusting in time with his hand as he fucks her deep and hard.

Except, she’s still keeping her noises to a minimum. Even as she starts to breathe quicker, the gasps turning to shuddering sighs, she manages to somehow keep it all under control.

And it’s starting to get under Bucky’s skin. He can’t be a gracious loser when it comes to this.

That primal feeling resurfaces in Bucky, the urge to take her hard and fast igniting inside of him. But, first, he needs to make her come again.

He quickly moves his left hand down her body, pressing hard against her clit, giving him the ability to fuck her harder with his fingers.

Her eyes roll back in her head, and she nearly screams, his fingers deep inside of her, curled and rubbing hard against the spongy tissue.

She can feel the pressure building, and she grabs her legs, her hands wrapping around her ankles to keep her spread wide for Bucky.

“That’s it,” he encourages her, just as breathless as she is, his body humming with pleasure. “Can feel you, sweetheart,” he moans, grinding harder against her clit, knowing exactly what she needs to get over the edge. “Doing so good for me. Gonna come all over my fingers, aren’t you?”

She quickly nods her head, but she can’t trust herself to speak. She can barely breathe anyway as her fingers dig into her ankles, the slight pain giving her something to focus on, reminding her of the stakes here.

She’s so overwhelmed, and he hasn’t even fucked her with his cock yet. She has no idea how she’s going to win this bet.

She can’t think about that right now though, because her entire body suddenly tenses, and she squirts, coating his hand with her juices.

She barely hears Bucky’s groan of approval, but his words of praise quickly flood her brain, and she comes for him, using every bit of energy to not cry out.

“Good girl. Fuck, look at you,” his deep voice adds to the pleasure still washing over her and she lets go of her ankles to reach out for Bucky, needing him.

He quickly joins her, resting some of his weight on top of her, letting her cling to him as her body shudders, her hips riding his fingers.

“You feel so fucking good,” he murmurs against her neck, his fingers buried deep inside of her, savoring the way her pussy pulses with each wave of pleasure. “I think I should I make you come again, just like this.”

He’s only half-serious, his cock aching to be inside of her.

Her expected whine makes him laugh, and he curls his fingers inside of her again, easily finding that spot that makes her tremble.

She’s still sensitive from her orgasm, but her mind is starting to clear, and she immediately shakes her head. “Absolutely not.” Another breathy moan, and then, “I think you should let me suck your cock.”

Bucky groans, allowing himself to briefly consider it, but kisses her softly and tells her no.

As much as they both enjoy when he fucks her mouth, it’s not going to help him win this bet. Her mouth needs to be free to make all those beautiful noises.

“I think you’re forgetting the point here, doll.” he teases, sitting up between her thighs and slowly sliding his fingers out of her dripping pussy.

She doesn’t even try to stop the soft whine from the loss, and he grins at her, watching her as he lifts his fingers to his mouth, licking the delicious taste off both digits.

The sight of him clearly enjoying himself makes her want to bring him more pleasure, and she leans up to kiss him again, welcoming the taste of her wetness on his lips and tongue.

When her teeth playfully bite at his bottom lip, his fingers tangle in her hair to pull her head back, meeting her grin with one of his own.

“How about I put my cock somewhere else?”

The smile on her face grows, despite her slight disappointment at not getting to have him in her mouth. And as Bucky rests back on his knees, she slides her hands down to touch herself, giving him an even better view of her wet pussy.

The action immediately makes him groan, and his hands move to her ankles, gripping them to steady himself. After all this time, she still has the ability to catch him off guard, and it makes him love her even more.

They both watch as he moves his hips forward to slide his cock along her slick slit, almost slipping inside her before gliding up to tease her exposed clit.

The movement sends a jolt of pleasure through both of them, and she lets out a soft whine, shifting her hips to try to guide him to where he needs to be.

It’s futile, though. Bucky’s doing this on purpose. Trying to make her forget the bet, but she keeps herself under control, breathing heavily through her nose, proving to him she’s just as dedicated as he is.

With a longing look on her face, and another shift of her hips, she pleads, “Fuck me.”

Bucky’s fingers tighten around her ankles, but he stays exactly where he is, continuing to tease her with the head of his cock. “You sure you’re ready?”

His gentle tone makes her laugh softly, but he shakes his head at her, his eyes dark with desire.

“I’m serious, doll.” His breathing is just as heavy as hers, his body tense from trying to control himself. “I’m planning to fuck you until you scream for me.”

She’s far from making objections, her need for him overwhelming. As if he needs any more encouragement, she licks her lips and raises her brow at him, declaring yet again, “I’m going to win this bet.”

His laugh sends another shiver down her spine and a pulse of pleasure straight to her clit. There’s no way she’s winning this bet, but she’s going to have fun losing.

Bucky angles his hips, their bodies fitting together perfectly, and as the tip of his cock pushes against her entrance, he tells her, “Arms over your head.”

She narrows her eyes at him but doesn’t question it, knowing there’s a good reason for it. And she’s excited to find out what it is.

The moment her hands grip the pillow under her head, he smirks at her and snaps his hips, burying himself inside of her.

A harsh gasp leaves her, but it’s not loud enough to make her lose and she throws her head back, biting her lips to keep her mouth shut as he starts to fuck her hard.

Bucky pushes her legs back, spreading her wider as he finds a quick rhythm. His own noises of pleasure get louder, but he does nothing to quiet them.

He knows how much she craves the sounds he makes, the pleasure she gives him like nothing he’s ever experienced.

“Oh fuck,” he groans, trying not to squeeze her ankles too hard, “you feel so good, baby. So wet, oh my god.”

She can’t look at him. She clings to the pillow underneath her, her forearms cradling her head as she does everything in her power not to cry out. His cock feels so good inside of her, reaching all the spots that make her toes curl and her body shudder in pleasure.

Bucky is more than desperate to hear more from her. The soft gasps and whimpers doing nothing to quell the ache to experience her pleasure at its fullest.

He’s used to her cries and moans filling the room, and while everything about her is telling him she’s enjoying herself, it’s not nearly enough.

“Stay just like that,” he orders her, sliding his hands down, squeezing her thick thighs as keeps moving, his hips never faltering.

She’s in no mood to disobey, willingly letting him fuck her towards yet another orgasm. Bucky can feel her tightening, her walls trying to keep him in place on each outstroke.

“That’s it. You wanna come for me again? Wanna come all over my cock?”

She can’t trust her voice and all she can do is nod her head, finally opening her eyes to look up at him.

He immediately growls and leans forward, letting her thighs spread around him as his hands go to her bouncing tits, making her back arch, allowing him even deeper.

Bucky curses again, her wetness allowing him to bottom out each time, and he can feel his own orgasm building, the sight of her writhing underneath him almost too much.

“Fuck,” he growls, his right hand moving to her stomach, loving the feel of his fingers digging into her soft flesh, his hips never slowing. “You feel so good. Come on, come for me, doll, let me feel you.”

All it takes is one brush of his thumb over clit and she comes again, her fingers sore from her tight grip the pillow. But all she can focus on is the electric current of pleasure rushing through her, the tension causing her to clench her teeth.

She resists the urge to press her face against her arm, and somehow manages to make it through the intense pleasure with only making soft, breathy moans.

It’s at this point that something in Bucky snaps.

He fucks her through the waves of pleasure, waiting until her body finally starts to relax, before he suddenly pulls out.

The whine she makes is louder than all the sounds she’s made tonight, and she opens her mouth in surprise, looking up at him with wide eyes.

“I’m not quite done with you yet,” he promises her, the gruffness of his voice making her hips shift.

Bucky chuckles softly and runs his hands over her body, his fingers dancing over her throat before sliding down between her breasts.

Before he does anything else, he checks in with her. “You ready to keep going?”

Her words come easy this time. “Yes, please," she smiles, lifting her hips again as if to entice him.

He has other plans though, and instructs her to turn over, the roughness of his voice returning. The excitement on her face is clear as she quickly obeys, getting into position - head down, ass up.

Bucky takes a moment to appreciate the view, the desire to claim her burning him up. He controls his breathing and reaches out, running his palm along her back and down to her ass, relishing the way she immediately spreads her thighs even more.

“Good girl,” he praises her, his voice deep with admiration. And then he slaps her ass, hard enough to make her gasp, and she turns her head to look over her shoulder at him.

They grin at each other, and he does it again, making her groan softly, but she pushes back, welcoming the sting.

Bucky’s hand rubs across the pinkening skin as his metal hand slips between her thighs, teasing her with his fingertips.

She’s more than ready for him to keep fucking her, but he still asks again, needing to hear her give him permission one final time.

As soon as she utters the soft plea of ‘yes, please’ he’s lining up behind her, his hand wrapped around his thick shaft to guide himself back to her welcoming pussy.

He wastes no time and sinks into her with a soft groan, her hot, slick walls enveloping his hard cock like she was made for him.

Bucky takes her slowly at first, the feel of her pussy fluttering with each long stroke of his cock making it difficult to focus.

She’s so sensitive, and with each deep thrust, her soft noises start to get just a bit louder, reminding him he’s on the right track.

His tender touches start to become a bit firmer, and as her hips begin to meet his with more force, he suddenly grips her waist.

Bucky plans to do whatever it takes to elicit louder noises from her, and without warning, he starts to piston his hips, making her take all of him, over and over.

This time she’s expecting it though and has just enough time to grit her teeth, each thrust making her gasp, her breath coming quick and shallow.

It’s taking all of her focus not to give in and let herself lose the bet already; she’s just too stubborn to give in, no matter how good Bucky is making her feel.

The irritation grows in Bucky, her lack of noise starting to feel personal, and his hands move to her hips, grabbing fistfuls of her ass as he starts to fuck her harder.

He watches as her back arches and her fingers grip the bedsheets, each deep thrust causing her legs start to shake again. She’s almost there. He can feel it.

She whines his name, and her hands scramble to grip the edge of the mattress, keeping her head turned, refusing to bury her face in the covers.

“Oh sweetheart,” he murmurs, the tenderness a stark contrast to the way he’s fucking her. “Gonna squirt for me again, aren’t you?”

All she can do is nod her head, her eyes shut tight, trying her best to keep her noises under control. But, with each thrust of his cock, she feels herself slipping, her skin breaking out in a light sheen of sweat.

It’s like a breath of fresh air to Bucky, watching as she starts to slowly lose control.

Any other time, he might take it easy on her, wanting her to be proud of herself for doing something she didn’t think she could do.

But, he’s way past that point now.

Now, all he wants is to make her lose control and scream for him. And he has one more trick up his sleeve.

Bucky’s strong hands slide up along her back as he raises himself up, placing his feet flat on the bed in order to crouch over her, keeping his cock buried inside of her.

“Oh god,” she breathes, her eyes rolling back in her head as she tries to prepare herself.

She loves this position, but it’s going to be her downfall. And it’s clear Bucky knows it, because the moment he starts moving his hips, he starts talking to her, the growl in his voice pushing her closer to the edge.

“That’s right. Told you I was gonna fuck you until you scream for me.”

He fucks her hard, the angle making his cock rub against her g-spot with each stroke, and she can feel the coil in her belly tightening.

She can no longer stop her noises from getting louder, and without thinking, she makes a desperate move to regain some semblance of composure.

With a quick pull of her elbows, she buries her face between her forearms, trying to quiet the cry of pleasure as she reaches a breaking point.

Bucky won’t allow it though, and grabs a fistful of her hair, forcing her head to the side.

“Fucking take it,” he demands, grunting with each hard thrust, “fucking take all of me.”

It’s too much. She can’t hold on anymore and her body tenses, her tightening pussy almost pushing him out.

“That’s it!” he growls. “Come for me, baby! God, I love you so fucking much.”

She sobs as her stomach tenses and she squirts, each hard thrust causing her wetness to run down her thighs and soak the sheets.

He talks her through it, like he always does, telling her how beautiful she is, how good she feels, and how much he loves making her come for him.

Even as her body pulses from the aftershocks, Bucky keeps going, slowing his pace as he settles back to his knees behind her, trying to help her come down slowly.

She was loud, but not enough to satisfy his need to hear her scream.

“I need you to give me one more,” he murmurs, running his hands along her sweaty back.

She whispers his name and shakes her head, her trembling limbs trying to give out on her.

Bucky’s quick to guide her onto her back again, this time slipping a pillow underneath to raise her hips.

He’s already fucked her senseless - she’s barely able to keep her eyes open - but he knows she has one more to give him.

Bucky starts slow again, giving her time to come back down, waiting until she can finally look up at him, still clearly cock-drunk.

He murmurs words of praise, telling her once again how beautiful she is, splayed out like this for him, her arms over her head, her thighs spread wide.

“You’re gonna look so good in that swing, sweetheart. All tied up and on display for me.”

Whatever insecurities that usually run through her mind are absent, and she moans at his words, starting to slowly move her hips against him, welcoming his cock back inside of her.

The image of being completely at his mercy makes her body pulse, and Bucky smiles down at her, sliding his hands along the sensitive skin of her thighs, just taking another moment to truly appreciate her.

At this point, it doesn’t matter how he makes her come. She’s going to scream for him either way, all her inhibitions now gone that the bet is over.

And that frees him up to give her everything she could possibly need. “Tell me how you wanna come this time.”

She breathes heavily and just slowly shakes her head for a moment, still not sure she has anything left to give.

But, if there’s anyone that can pull it out of her it’s Bucky.

He waits patiently, fucking her slowly, barely pulling out before sliding back in until he’s completely sheathed. “Do you want me to keep fucking you like this?”

His fingers slowly move to her pussy, watching the way her body takes him so perfectly as his thumb finds her clit.

“Or do you need something else?”

The shaking of her head turns into nods and she tries to find her voice as her back arches, her body welcoming the intense pleasure.

Her body is so sensitive, like every nerve ending is exposed, and she’s still not sure what she needs. Bucky will give her whatever she asks for, but she’s too lost in the moment to answer him.

As much as he’s enjoying the unfiltered sounds coming out of her, he needs her to talk. He needs to know she’s still with him, that she truly wants him to keep going.

“Sweetheart.”

There’s a slight edge to his tone, and she meets his eyes again, a soft smile forming on her face.

He grins down at her and nods encouragingly, “I need your words.”

She nods again, but as she starts to say “I want-” her words are cut off by a soft whine, Bucky’s cock bottoming out inside of her, finding that spot that makes her legs shake.

They both laugh softly, and she shakes her head at him before she finally finishes her thought, “I want you to come with me.”

A deep moan leaves Bucky at her request, his grip on her thighs tightening as he resists the urge to start moving faster.

“Is that what you need?” he asks, starting to lean forward, peppering kisses along her breasts and collarbone.

Her answer of ‘yes’ comes quickly and he starts to rock against her, grinding his pelvis against her clit.

“Yes,” she repeats, the simple word causing pleasure to race up Bucky’s spine.

He drops to his elbows, caging her in, and they both start moving at the same time, her legs wrapped around him, encouraging his hard thrusts.

“Yes, fuck me, oh my god.” She doesn’t care how loud she is anymore, the cries and moans leaving her without a second thought.

Bucky’s already close, her pussy practically milking his cock, each flutter making him groan. But, he’s a man of his word and he’s not going to let himself give into the pleasure until she comes one more time.

“You feel so fucking good,” he moans, panting above her, unable to tear his gaze away, committing this moment to memory. “Such a perfect pussy, baby. Just made to take my cock.”

She clings to him, her nails scratching down his back, sure to leave marks. But he welcomes it, the sting adding to his pleasure, watching as she cries out, her body starting to tense, her final orgasm building.

When she whines his name, he hears the apprehension in her voice, as if to warn him that this one’s going to overwhelm her.

Bucky’s fingers slide through her hair, and he cradles her head, forcing her to keep looking at him.

“It’s okay,” he promises her. “Give it to me. Give me everything.” Her back arches and her pussy tightens, the sounds of her wetness filling the air as she starts to squirt again. “Fuck yes, come for me!”

And she does, her breath hitching as the sudden explosion of pleasure rocks her body.

Bucky doesn’t stop, moving hard and fast against her, forcing his cock to stay inside of her, even as her walls clench around him, almost pushing him out.

She cries out, finally giving him what he’s been working towards all night, her scream of pleasure sure to wake the neighbors.

Bucky can barely hold back, his own orgasm threatening to consume him, but he fights through it, giving her a few more seconds of his attention.

“That’s it, scream for me. Let everyone fucking hear you.”

But then she’s begging him to come too, her sobs of pleasure pushing him over the edge, and he kisses her hard, his tongue sliding along hers.

All his senses are consumed by her, every single part of him entirely overwhelmed with pleasure, the rhythm of his hips faltering as his cock pulses, filling her up with his cum.

After a few more lazy thrusts, their hips finally come to a stop, and he groans against her mouth, collapsing on top of her.

They’re both panting, their arms wrapped around each other, Bucky’s weight a welcome feeling as he starts to nuzzle her neck, breathing in her scent.

They take their time coming back down, murmuring words of love and affection, their lips eventually meeting again in a soft, tender kiss.

She barely registers him rolling them over, but makes a soft noise of protest when he slowly pulls out.

Bucky’s own sigh joins hers, the loss of her warmth making his softening cock twitch. If it wasn’t so late, and she wasn’t clearly spent, he’d happily go another round.

For now, they snuggle quietly, her head resting on his chest, listening to his heartbeat while his fingers make slow, soothing strokes along her back.

Bucky’s sensitive ears pick up the steady rhythm of her heart as well, the sound a constant comfort to him even on his hardest days.

Eventually, they finally move, sharing another brief kiss and exchanging words of love yet again, neither of them ever tiring of hearing it - or professing it to each other.

But, they need to clean up, his release still leaking out of her, leaving her slick - and he’s not much better off, their combined fluids matting the hair at the base of his cock.

Bucky’s first to finish in the attached bathroom, and he’s already in bed when she returns, the covers pulled up to his stomach, his phone in his hands.

The silly grin on his face makes her laugh, and she climbs onto the bed, asking him, “What are you up to?”

He gives her a quick glance, his bright smile making her heart flutter as he returns his attention back to his phone.

“I’m purchasing that sex swing.”

---------------------------

Hot Bucky Summer Masterlist

Next part: The Prize

Main Masterlist

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loverofwomenswrongs · 7 days ago

Text

I DON'T THINK I COULD LOVE YOU MORE

******

Pairing: Billie Eilish x fem!reader

Words: 1.9K

****** [So after everything that happened, I really wanted to write something cute and happy for the Grammys, I've been obssessed with Billie these last days, so I hope you like it!!!]

The alarm went off earlier than usual on the morning of the Grammys. Y/n stirred beneath the covers, stretching an arm out to find her girlfriend—only to be met with an empty, cold spot. She frowned. If there was one thing she knew about Billie, it was how much she despised getting out of bed without spending a few minutes tangled together, exchanging sleepy kisses.

With a sigh, Y/n lazily pulled her hair into a messy bun and grabbed one of Billie’s oversized sweatshirts. If they were already huge on the singer, Y/n practically drowned in them, despite being taller than her girlfriend. But that’s exactly what made them so cozy.

She padded toward the kitchen, where she found Billie perched on a stool, hands wrapped around a steaming cup of tea. Y/n approached her from behind, wrapping an arm around her waist and resting her chin on her girlfriend’s shoulder. It was only then that she noticed how tense Billie was.

“Good morning, my love,” Y/n murmured, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek. But instead of the usual warm response, Billie only managed a small, tight-lipped smile—more a grimace than anything.

Y/n’s brows furrowed. Something’s up.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?” she asked, concern evident in her voice.

Billie let out a heavy sigh, finally turning in Y/n’s embrace to face her. “Sorry, baby. It’s just… I’m a bit stressed about tonight.” She hesitated, then ran a hand through her hair. “Claudia called me before the alarm went off. Turns out Finneas woke up feeling sick… and he lost his voice. Like, he literally can’t sing, and I don’t know what to do.”

“Oh, babe, I’m so sorry,” Y/n said sincerely. “But I know you’ll figure something out. Have you talked to your team?” As she spoke, she absentmindedly ran her fingers through Billie’s hair, knowing it always helped calm her—even just a little.

“I called my mom, and she said I have two options: find someone to do the harmonies while Finneas plays guitar, or sing without them and just have him play.”

Y/n nodded, considering it. “What do you want to do?” she asked, pulling away briefly to make herself a cup of coffee. She missed the way Billie immediately pouted at the loss of her touch. Once her drink was ready, Y/n returned to her girlfriend’s side, taking Billie’s hand in hers and tracing slow, soothing circles on her knuckles.

“Finneas says he’ll still be okay to play, so that’s not the issue,” Billie admitted. “But I would really like someone to sing with me. It gives the song more depth, y’know? Makes it feel… fuller.”

Y/n took a thoughtful sip of her coffee. “That makes sense. Is there anyone you can call? I mean, you still have one more rehearsal—you could try it out with someone and see how it feels.”

Billie fell silent, deep in thought. A few moments later, a small smile tugged at her lips as she turned to face Y/n again.

“Baby,” she started sweetly. “You know I love you, right?”

Y/n narrowed her eyes, immediately suspicious. “Of course I know… Why?”

Billie hesitated, her blue eyes wide and pleading. “Well… You obviously know the lyrics to the song…”

Y/n’s stomach dropped. “…Yeah?”

“You’ve been to every rehearsal, so you know exactly where Finneas comes in…”

“Billie…”

“And even if you don’t believe it, you do have an amazing voice…”

Y/n’s eyes widened. “I do not like where this is going.”

Billie pressed her lips together before finally blurting it out. “Sooo… Maybe… Remember that I love you so, so much… but maybe you could—I don’t know—sing with me tonight?” She whispered the last part, voice pitching higher as she looked at Y/n with the most hopeful expression imaginable.

Y/n stared at her. “Babe. That is crazy.” She set her coffee down, heart rate already spiking. “I have never sung in front of anyone—barely anyone. And you want me to do it at the Grammys? In front of actual singers? I cannot do that. I’m not prepared. We’ve never even sung your song together—it might not even work!”

Panic was creeping into her voice now, but she also refused to meet Billie’s gaze. She knew that if she looked into those big, ocean-blue eyes, she’d be done for.

Billie took both of Y/n’s hands in hers. “Love, I trust you. I know you can do it. And, like you said, we still have one more rehearsal. Just try it—for me? Please?”

Y/n groaned, running a hand down her face. She was losing this battle fast.

“I don’t know… Are you completely sure you wouldn’t be better off on your own?” she tried one last time.

Billie shook her head, voice unwavering. “I’ll never be better than when I’m with you.”

Y/n exhaled sharply, already knowing she’d caved. Billie could ask her for the moon, and she’d find a way to bring it to her.

“I hate that I love you so much,” she grumbled. “You better make it up to me later.”

Billie smirked, immediately tugging Y/n closer by the hem of the sweatshirt, pulling her between her legs. One hand found its way to Y/n’s waist, the other tilting her chin up until their lips were just inches apart.

“Oh, you bet I will,” Billie murmured before capturing Y/n’s lips in a slow, deep kiss—soft, yet full of passion.

—

Much to Y/n’s dismay, the rehearsal went way too smoothly. Her voice blended perfectly with Billie’s, something she had no choice but to admit. And despite the nerves that had plagued her all morning, she found herself feeling… a little more confident, comforted by the presence of the siblings—Finneas strumming the guitar beside her, Billie performing so effortlessly that it almost felt natural to join in. Her girlfriend hadn’t stopped showering her with compliments, making sure she knew just how amazing she was.

Now, as they got ready for the night, their hotel room was packed with stylists, makeup artists, and assistants bustling around to make sure they looked their best. Clothes were everywhere—red carpet looks, performance outfits, even afterparty choices. It was overwhelming, but Y/n took it all in stride. She’d do anything for Billie, and she’d do it a hundred times over.

“Baby?”

Y/n snapped out of her thoughts at the sound of Billie’s voice. She hummed in acknowledgment, letting her know she was listening.

“I was thinking… Since you’ll be on stage with me tonight, maybe you could also join me on the red carpet?” Billie hesitated before continuing, her voice softer. “I know we weren’t planning to confirm our relationship, but I kinda want to… I want to hold your hand and kiss you without worrying about the cameras.”

Y/n smiled, warmth blooming in her chest. “I think today’s perfect,” she agreed. “Besides, bringing me as your plus one would’ve already been suspicious. Not that we’re very discreet anyway. People really don’t believe our ‘we’re just friends’ speech anymore.”

They both laughed, knowing she was right. They had never officially confirmed anything, but they had never exactly hidden it either. They were private—but that didn’t mean they had to pretend.

—

Y/n had no idea how Billie remained so composed throughout the entire evening. Just walking the red carpet had her stressing, but she thought she’d done pretty well—posing for pictures, both together and separately, sneaking fond glances at Billie when the singer wasn’t looking.

She had met so many artists she admired, with Billie proudly introducing her to people like Sabrina Carpenter and Chappell Roan, all while Y/n tried very hard not to freak out. But no matter how nerve-wracking it was, the steady presence of Billie’s hand on her back kept her grounded. The singer made sure she was okay at all times—whether by asking directly, squeezing her hand, or simply locking eyes from across the room.

But now, as they stood backstage, changed into their performance outfits, Y/n’s nerves returned—stronger than ever.

She tried to hide it, not wanting to add to Billie’s stress, but of course her girlfriend saw right through her.

A few minutes before stepping on stage, Billie pulled her into a hug, making her look at her.

“You’re going to do great, baby. I know it. Just like in rehearsals.”

“Yeah… except this time, real singers will be watching.”

Billie smirked. “And? I’ll be there. Finneas will be there. If it gets too overwhelming, just look at me, alright?”

Y/n exhaled shakily but nodded. “Okay. Let’s do this.”

They shared a soft kiss before someone from production signaled that it was time.

Taking a deep breath, Y/n stepped behind the microphone. She could feel the weight of the moment pressing down on her chest, but then—Finneas placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. They exchanged a small smile, just as the lights dimmed.

Only for Billie to start… talking?

“Hi, guys!” Her voice echoed through the venue, casual and warm. “Normally, we don’t introduce our songs because we’re short on time, but luckily, they gave me a pass tonight.” She chuckled, the crowd responding with cheers. “This morning, we woke up to some sad news—my brother lost his voice. And, as you know, his harmonies are super important to this song. So, we had to find a solution.”

She turned slightly, glancing at Y/n with a teasing sparkle in her eyes.

“Finneas is still going to play, obviously, but tonight, someone very special to me will be singing his part.” She paused before adding, “She’s a little nervous, so if you know the song—please, help us sing. Here’s ‘Birds of a Feather’ with Finneas and Y/n!”

And just like that—it began.

At first, Y/n could barely hear herself over the sound of her own heartbeat, but as the song progressed, she found herself feeling it. The music, the moment, the presence of Billie right next to her. Every now and then, Billie would glance over, locking eyes and smiling, silently reminding her that she was right where she needed to be.

Before she knew it, it was over.

As the final note rang through the venue and the applause roared around them, Y/n barely had time to process it before Billie wrapped her in a tight hug.

“I knew you could do it! You were amazing, baby!” Billie gushed, cupping Y/n’s face and pressing quick kisses all over it.

“Says you!” Y/n laughed breathlessly. “You were born for this, my love. Thank you for trusting me.”

“I always will,” Billie murmured. “I love you so much, Y/n.”

“I love you too.”

They kissed like there was no one else around them—before finally heading back to their seats. But not before Y/n insisted on changing back into her dress, claiming she didn’t want to spend the rest of the night in a t-shirt.

Of course, Billie mocked her for it. “Nothing’s better than a t-shirt, babe.”

They continued watching the show, Billie leaning over at one point as the stage was being set for Sabrina Carpenter’s performance.

With a mischievous smirk, she whispered into Y/n’s ear, “You do know the next step is for you to sing with me on tour, right? And not just the harmonies.”

Y/n turned to her, eyes wide. “You’re kidding.”

Billie just grinned, bursting into laughter at her reaction. And, despite herself, Y/n couldn’t help but laugh too.

She shook her head, leaning in to press a quick kiss to Billie’s lips. “I was going to refuse, but… you do know all you have to do is ask.”

#billie eilish #billie eilish x reader #billie eilish imagine #billie eilish x female reader #billie eilish x y/n #billie x reader #billie eilish fanfiction #billie eilish fic #hit me hard and soft #birds of a feather

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lowkeyerror · 3 months ago

Text

Guidance pt2

Agatha Harkness x Rio Vidal x Reader

Word Count: 2.7k

Notes: slight angst, abandonment issues, spoilers for Agatha All Along,, large time skip from part 1

Summary: Rio shows up at your home centuries after your last meeting, asking for your help to free Agatha from a spell. You're reluctant to help her as her presence reminds you of how she and Agatha abandoned you.

An: See... minutes later as promised. Hope you enjoy. Likes, comments, replies, and reblogs are much appreciated 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

Part 1 | Masterlist

You sit up abruptly, your hands reaching to cradle your face. Your heart beats rambunctiously in your chest. The memory of Agatha and Rio haunts your dreams.

You can't stand how sweet it is. How fresh it feels even after centuries have passed. You swing your feet over the side of your bed deciding to abandon sleep completely.

Your feet pad against your wooden floor all the way to the kitchen. You turn the light on, and stop in your tracks as you notice a pizza on your counter.

You hadn’t ordered any pizza.

“Long time no see, sweetheart.”

You didn't hesitate to shoot a ball of fire in the direction of that voice. The voice that whispered in your ear, the voice that praised you, the voice of one of your mentors.

“Aw, didn't miss me?”

You turn to face her, but she’s crafty. Her dagger is already pressed against your neck. You can feel her breathing in your ear. Her presence just as warm as you remembered.

“What do you want?”

She puts a little pressure on the dagger, “Watch the tone, pumpkin.”

You grew frustrated with her games. You threw your head back, head-butting the woman causing her to drop the dagger. You took the opportunity to pick it up. With her back on the floor, you straddle her waist and hold the dagger against her throat now. Tiny flames sparked in your pupils.

“Why are you in my house, Rio?”

The woman can't help herself, “I just missed being under you like this.”

You glare at the woman, replacing the dagger with your hand around her neck, “I should put you out of your misery right now.”

“Kinky,” she squeezes out.

“This is the last time I'm asking, what do you want?”

“A-Agatha.”

You release your hand from her throat, “What about her?”

Rio rubs a hand over her throat soothingly, “She’s gotten herself trapped in a spell of the Scarlet Witch.”

“What does that have to do with me?”

Rio’s hands get comfortable resting on your hips. You think about shaking her hands off of you, but you don't.

“She doesn't remember who she is. She thinks she's some woman named Agnes. I need your help to free her,” this is the most serious she has been this encounter.

“You’re literally Death. You don't need my help, you never did,” you spoke pointedly.

Her hand begins to climb from your hips up and under your shirt. It wasn’t sexual, just intimate.

“That’s not true,” she whispers, eyes locking on yours.

You scoff, but are unable to look away from her, “It feels pretty accurate.”

“I never stopped needing you,” Rio admits.

Your gaze softens for a moment, “Don’t lie to me.”

You get off of her, opting to lean against your kitchen counter. You needed to put distance between the two of you.

“Y/n, Agatha needs us,” Rio pleads with you.

“Where were you when I needed you? Where was she?”

Rio closes her eyes briefly, “We took you in.”

You furrow your brow in anger, “Is that all? You took me in, made me fall in love, and then you left me.”

Rio shakes her head, “No, you left us.”

Your eyes burn at her words, “I would've never left you.”

Rio shoots back, “I’m pretty sure you did. You left us, Agatha and I got into a fight over who’s fault it was. It was the last time we spoke.”

You shake your head, “No, I went out to collect firewood. I got a little turned around on the way back, but eventually I made it . When I got home the two of you were gone. I waited and waited and you never came back.”

“Impossible, we searched the whole forest looking for you before we started fighting,” Rio argues back at you.

“Bullshit,” you say through gritted teeth.

“You think we’d just abandon you after everything,” Rio sounds hurt by the accusation.

You want to comfort her, but you fight the urge, “I don’t think, I know because it happened.”

“Help me save Agatha, she will tell you the same,” Rio wagers.

“Fine,” you relent.

Rio takes your hand in hers and soon you are no longer in your house. You’re outside standing in front of a house you’ve never seen before. Rio is dressed in what seems to be a bad detective get up. You’re still in your pajamas.

“This is Agatha’s place,” Rio says going up and ringing the doorbell.

When the door opens you see one of the most powerful witches that you know in a baseball tee and jeans. Her hair is in a ponytail and her demeanor is nothing as you remembered it to be.

“Agnes, I thought we could talk about the case some more,” Rio says to the woman.

Agnes’s eyes cut over to you, “And who is this sad sack?”

“Y/n here, is special forces. She’s here to help us look beneath the surface. Isn’t that right, Y/n?”

You nod silently, observing Agatha’s state. She was always mischievous. Part of you hoped to see cracks of her shine through, but you couldn’t sense your Agatha underneath Agnes.

Agnes stepped aside to let you in.

You whisper to Rio, “What’s wrong with her? I can’t- I don’t feel her.”

“She’s trapped somewhere deep in her mind. I’ve tried to get her out, but I’m missing something,” Rio says.

You watch as Rio interacts with Agnes. The magic of the Scarlet Witch seems tedious to undo. You stare deeply into Agnes, traveling down into her psyche, trying to find any piece of Agatha.

“Does she just sit there and stare?”

“It’s part of her process,” Rio deflects.

Agnes leans forward to match your stare, “Look any harder and you might find yourself a carrot, bunny.”

You startle, at the old nickname.

“Excuse me?” You say and you see a far away look in the woman’s eyes. She shakes her head.

“Nothing, sorry about that. This case, it’s got my head all scrambled,” she says to herself.

You try to transport yourself back into your coven days. Head always buried in a spell book of some sort. You shift through the knowledge, hoping to find something that sticks.

Your eyes shut as words begin to fill your head. Latin words that you don't quite know anymore. They feel right so you begin to chant them under your breath.

“What is she saying?” You hear Agnes question.

“Nothing important, let's get back to the photos.”

Agnes shakes her head, “She's speaking gibberish, I think she's unstable. Mam, mam I'm going to need you to stop.”

Agnes gets in your face. Her hands shake your shoulders, but you just begin chanting louder. Your eyes begin to glow white as you look into her.

“She’s possessed, dear god,” Agnes tries to pull her hands off of you, but you keep them there.

“Agatha,” her name falls gently from your lips. “You’ve been lost, but I’ve found you.”

You can feel her. The witch underneath this costume. You reach for her in your mind. The layers begin to peel back and Rio watches as the character falls off of Agatha.

It’s like they’re traveling through the decades. The room seems to be shaking, as if there was an earthquake. Until finally there’s nothing left but Agatha.

Her eyes are wide open as she sits in front of you bare. Your hands still holding hers onto your shoulders.

“Y/n?” The disbelief in her tone lets you know that this is your Agatha.

Her eyes dart over to Rio, a scowl grows on her face.

“Hello, my love,” Rio winks at the naked woman.

Agatha lunges at Rio, but you pull her back into your grasp.

“I don’t care if you guys fight each other, but I need to know this first. Rio tells me that I left the two of you, but I remember you leaving me.”

Agatha looks at you with a crease in her brow, “We would've never left you, bunny.”

“Told you so,” Rio says.

You shake your head, “I don't understand.”

Agatha holds your face in her hands and you let her. Her thumb swipes across your cheek tenderly.

“Bunny, we searched for you, for hours. We couldn’t find you, we couldn’t feel you. Even when I went to look for you after our fight, I couldn’t feel you. I could never trace your magic,” Agatha’s voice falters towards the end.

“How did you find me?” You question Rio.

“The old fashioned way, sweetheart. I looked you up.” Rio gets closer to you and Agatha. “I couldn’t feel your magic either."

“I still don’t understand. I went home that day, neither of you showed up. I wasn’t gone for that long. I just got a little turned around,” you mumble to yourself more than them.

“What do you remember?” Agatha’s finger trails up, tapping on your head.

“I went to get firewood, I was walking.”

Agatha responds, “Do you remember for how long?”

“It felt like less than an hour,” you try to pull the memory forward.

Rio hums, “When did you get turned around?”

“I don't know.”

“Yes, you do. Find it,” Agatha pushes you.

A sensation stirs in you, almost feeling like you’re being buried alive, “I can’t.”

Rio’s kneeling down beside the two of you. Her eyes focus on you, “You can, Y/n.”

That feeling starts to intensify. You can feel dirt falling over your body. It’s suffocating you. You try to push Agatha off of you, but she stays in place. Rio has her hand on your knee trying to provide you with comfort.

There’s an intense flash of white light. All of a sudden you’re in the forest again. The soil is cold underneath your feet, and the night breeze tries to get into your cloak. Rio's cloak, why were you wearing her cloak?

“Where are we?”

You didn't expect to see Agatha and Rio at your side. Agatha now fully clothed, but her clothes were outdated. You all were wearing wardrobes of centuries past.

“I don't know,” you say, casting a fire ball in your hand.

“Well wherever we are I still don't have any magic,” Agatha grumbles.

“Why is this so familiar?” Rio reaches out to touch the trees.

Your eyes land on a cabin, one that was very familiar to you, “It’s home.”

They look at the cabin for a long minute.

“It is not,” Agatha says eyes narrowing.

“What do you mean?”

Agatha gets closer to the wooden structure. She pushes the door and it opens. Inside is the place you remember waiting for them for. You’re sure of it, that this is the home.

“Agatha’s right, close but no,” Rio’s eyes wander around the room.

“This is it,” you say firmly.

They both look at you. Rio speaks first, “This plant, it’s the wrong color and in the wrong place.”

“The blanket on the chair, the stitching is wrong,” Agatha feels it in her hand.

The details are small, but incorrect all the same. Your confusion only multiplies at the realization.

“But, I waited here,” you repeat it a few times, feeling like your breath was stolen from your lungs.

They are by your side in an instant. Agatha has her arms wrapped securely around you.

“We’re going to figure it out, bunny,” Agatha speaks to you, but her eyes are on Rio’s hoping that she could explain this.

“I think, we might be in a different dimension ,” Rio says.

“How would we be in a different dimension?” Your frustration bleeds through your words.

“Your power,” Agatha says as though she has connected all the dots.

Rio nods along, “You’ve crossed a dimensional barrier.”

“How?” You still were in disbelief.

Rio shrugs, “I don’t know, but I’m certain this is not our Earth. There are souls here that I know I have reaped.”

Agatha looks at Rio for clarification, “ A green witch can travel planes?”

Rio tilts her head from side to side, “Sort of, but not exactly. Most of them can travel through the soil. It’s more state to state, or maybe even out of the country, but this is… unheard of.”

“You said most,” you stop her.

She smirks, “Well, I’m Death; The Green Witch, I am able to travel the planes of the multiverse.”

“This would explain why we couldn’t feel you."

The realization hits you like a bullet to the chest. They didn’t leave you, you weren’t abandoned. The only reason you aren’t together is because they physically couldn’t get to you.

“Take us back,” your voice was delicate.

Rio obliged, putting the 3 of you back at Agatha’s house.

The moment you’re back you’re apologizing to the women, “I’m sorry. I thought you left, and didn’t want me. I spent all this time, hating you for leaving me, but you never did. I shouldn’t have believed that you would. I’m sorry it broke you guys up. I’m sorry that-”

Rio doesn’t let you continue. Her lips smash against yours hungrily. There’s nothing careful or patient about the kiss. It's as if you are her sustenance in that moment. She was unwilling to part even as your lungs screamed for oxygen. You questioned if you really needed it as much as you needed her lips on yours.

Rio only relents when she realizes that you were running out of air. She pecks your lips once more before letting you catch your breath.

Agatha goes to make a snarky remark that dies on her lips as Rio grabs her face. Rio rests her forehead against Agatha’s just breathing in the woman’s air. She’s waiting for something, Agatha’s permission.

You watch as Agatha scans the other woman’s face, potentially trying to remember all of the details. She nods ever so slightly and Rio doesn’t waste another second.

Your pupils dilate at the image before you. The hunger, the longing, the love you can see it all as they mix into each other.

“Do not be sorry, it’s no one’s fault,” Rio speaks as her lips leave Agatha’s.

“But-”

“Come here bunny,” Agatha turns from Rio to give you her attention.

You follow her instructions and shuffle over to her. Your eyes can’t help to dart to her lips. You wonder if you could taste Rio’s lips by kissing her.

“It’s nobody’s fault,” Agatha takes a hand and runs it through your hair.

You sigh, “We’ve spent so much time apart because of me.”

“We’re together now and that’s all that matters,” Agatha counters.

“Your magic,” your fingers intertwine with hers.

“I’ll get it ba-”

This time it’s you that cuts her off. Her lips are softer than you remember, and there is a faint earthy presence in her kiss. You take the opportunity to shoot some of your magic into her hands.

Instinctively she begins to absorb the power. It hurts you a little, but you’re too focused on the feeling of her tongue against your bottom lip. You open for her like you always have.

She moans into your mouth. You push further into her, weak as your magic slipped through your fingers.

You don’t want to stop kissing her, but if she takes anymore of your power, you’ll die. You want to push the boundary, but Rio doesn’t let you. She pulls you out of Agatha’s grasp severing the line between her power and yours.

“That was so reckless,” Agatha scolds you. “You could’ve died.”

You shrug, “You wouldn’t have taken it from me if I offered.”

Agatha scoffs, “Because it’s dangerous “

“I’m fine, Rio interfered so everything is fine,” you brush her off.

“I would say stop fighting, but I kind of like when you two argue,” Rio smirks.

You smile at her, “I feel like that’s my line.”

“Put me back under the spell, now,” Agatha pretends to be annoyed.

“You love it,” Rio pulls Agatha into a hug.

Agatha tugs you into the both of them.

“I don’t, but I love you.”

For the first time in centuries, you felt yourself breathe a little easier. It was surprising how quickly you all picked up where you left off. The bad blood trickled down into playful teasing. It was as if the universe was just better when you were with Agatha and Rio.

#lowkeyerror #agatha x reader #agatha harkness x reader #agatha harkness #agatha harkness x rio vidal #rio vidal #rio vidal x reader #agatha harkness x rio vidal x reader

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jophiel-shakes · 1 year ago

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summary :: Alastor during a rut

warning :: nsfw

note :: requests are still open

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Alastor isn’t a sexual person by any means.

Don’t get me wrong, he fooled around once or twice in life but in hell there was never a looming pressure to get married or have children.

Despite his aloof attitude towards sex and general romance there is a certain time when his more animalistic side controls him.

These periods happen to be ruts.

Every sinner has to deal with unsavoury things because of their hellish form, Alastor’s is just a unbridled need to have sex.

Of course Alastor tries to survive the ruts in confinement (usually in his radio tower or bedroom), making it clear to everyone that they’d best stay away if they value their lives.

Though there comes a point where dealing with the issue himself doesn’t do the trick.

So he decides to leave his tower in search of a mate.

And you happen to be the perfect find.

On sweeter terms you would’ve been honoured and perhaps even flustered but Alastor’s inky tentacles ripping you from your own room and dragging you into his own was rather alarming to say the least.

His room was hot and dense, Alastor himself loomed like a predator, his horns large and winding whilst his teeth glistened with drool.

It was a sight to behold and you were unsure if you should’ve been horny or terrified.

He’s quick to get in your personal space, scenting you immediately.

He asks to strike up a deal;

“How about a deal?” Alastor croons, sliding his hands down your back as he mumbles in your ear.

You clear your throat and try to mentally solve his mixed signals. “What for?”

“I’ll do you a favour, anything you want at any given moment. In return, you offer me your… company.”

You take it of course, to have a favour from Alastor was a great deal and you’d be helping him through his rut. Everyone wins.

Despite Alastor’s strong belief in acting as a gentleman most of his manners are thrown away once you shake hands.

He’s immediately buried himself into your body, inhaling your smell and pressing himself into you.

First, he takes you against the wall, being far too eager to move to his bed.

His talons graze your skin, pulling you into him with a desperate tightness.

One would’ve imagined sex with Alastor as sweeter and gentle, but whilst in a rut he’s got unbelievable stamina that he uses to split you.

Biting biting biting. Alastor can’t help but taste you. It’s a cannibalistic tendency, but he never takes a chunk out of you. Do expect him to draw blood though.

When in a rut he prefers to take you from behind. Mostly he likes to trap you between him and something else like a wall.

During the end of his rut when things have cooled, he’ll take it smoother and actually make love to you.

Though, when he’s in the heat of it it’s nothing but quickies and rough sex.

Alastor goes for multiple rounds, usually three before you tap out or someone interrupts. Generally he could go longer.

Alastor will not cum anywhere but inside you. He’s mentioned in passing that the feeling of cumming inside helps settle him more.

No one in the hotel knows of your affair, well, apart from Angel who could practically smell the daily quickies on you, see it in your flushed face and frizzed hair. Husk was a close second who’s seen Alastor in a isolated rut before. Angel then spread it to everyone else.

Nifty knew too, being the little creep she is, she mentioned to you her habit of listening in.

Despite most having heard you yelp his name at night, Alastor just pretends nothing ever happened and nobody dares mention it to him.

Although you do cop a lot of teasing from Angel.

Once things settle down and Alastor gets the frustrations out of his system, everything goes back to normal. Your bite marks heal and everyone settles.

That is, until his next rut.

#alastor x y/n #alastor x reader #alastor x you #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel x reader

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themusingsofacurlyhairednerd · 14 days ago

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Ludos Imperiales 5

Summary: A celebration of Amarantha's victories in Illyria reveals just how bad the Empire has become.

Content Warnings: Blood and Descriptions of Injuries; Crucifixions and Mentions of Torture; Slavery

Pt 1, 2, 3, 4

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Sleep is elusive. I find myself staring at the ceiling, watching the cream colored walls change colors as the sun slowly begins to rise.

I have to be the worst mate in history. Well, my Father murdered his mate, so maybe a close second. Even if Rhysand did reach into my head and use me to brand them, I’d still held that iron, hadn’t fought it like I should have. Now, I can’t even say I made it right by getting them the hell out of here! I’m now actively giving them ways to stay, not just in the Empire, or in the arena, but in the middle of a game with my Father they can’t possibly hope to win. I should have pressed the issue harder. I should have ignored their call and waited til morning when Anise had found passage out of here and hauled them onto the ship. I most definitely should not be calling for a tailor as soon as the sun is up to make sure they’re fitted for clothes for this stupid parade.

I’m tempted to think Rhysand has found a way to make me do this for him, but I know he can’t reach me this far. The tether in my chest that links me to them feels strained from being so far away. It’s as if it’s a living thing beneath my skin that knows there’s too much distance between us.

Anise worms her way back into my room as I dismiss the tailor and tell her to send the healer my way for a report on the injuries the Illyrians finally let her treat once I’d left their room last night.

“I found what you were looking for,” she says as she shuts the door. I expected her to find an excuse not to do what I’d asked, especially after she’d given me the royal inquisition about what I’d been doing once I came back through the secret entrance last night. But her emerald gaze sweeps conspiratorially over my empty room, even as she hands me something that smells like a contraceptive tea.

I try to pass it off on my bedside table. “You know I don’t need this.”

“Drink,” she sits herself on the edge of my bed with a sigh. “Can’t have a boat disappearing into the Wastes while you grow with child.”

I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Anise!”

She shrugs, “I suppose your Father would kill it anyway.”

“Get to the point, Anise.”

“Drink the tea first.”

To appease her, I pinch the bridge of my nose to avoid the awful smell and force the amber colored liquid down my throat.

“There’s a merchant ship that takes the long way around the Wastes to reach the Human Lands. Passage can be acquired for a hefty fee.”

“Not a problem,” my stomach rises in my throat and I have to take a moment to let it settle before finishing the tea.

“There is a matter of it only being available for another three days before it’s gone for six months.”

That complicates things. How am I supposed to convince them in the next three days that they need to be on that ship?

“Thank you for looking,” I pass the, now empty, cup back to her. “I will need you on standby. Hopefully, I can find a way to convince them to get on board before it’s too late.”

Anise chews on her wooden thumbnail. “There’s a rumor, around the house, that they’re insurrectionists, is that true?”

I push the curtain blocking the bathroom aside. I might as well change and prepare for the parade now. If I give myself enough time, maybe I can slip back into the secret passage and strategize with my stubborn set of mates on how we handle today. I don’t like going into this blind, and I certainly don’t like having to be responsible for their well-being knowing that they’re just winging it.

How have they managed to get this far?

“More or less,” I say as I slip my sleep clothes off my shoulders. I frown at my reflection in the mirror. Too thin. Too pale. I need to get back into training; I need to get some color back into my face. All my clothes hang a little too much off my shoulders. Mother would have never let me hear the end of it if she knew how long I’d wasted away in this house over her. She hated mourners. Hated having an excuse not to be on top of training, in every area of life.

“And what-” Anise comes to stand in the doorway, frowning at the outfit I’ve chosen for the day. She snatches it out of my hands before I can put it on and comes back with something cobalt instead. “-do they have on you?”

“I don’t follow?”

“What are they using against you to get you to do this for them?” She fusses over the loose fabric, lining the seams up along my shoulders, tucking in loose bits of cloth here and there, slipping other strands through a golden belt around my waist.

“You think they have some kind of leverage on me?”

“I think this is unlike you. I think you’ve been a shell of a person locked in a dark house for months and months and suddenly now you care about parties and parades and those gods-awful Games. It is strange. I think I should send for a Healer to look at your head.”

I let her fidget and fuss so she has something to take the edge off her anxiety. “I went to plenty of parties and parades… before…” I can’t bring myself to say it out loud.

“You went for her, because she forced you too, this is different. You keep insisting there is nothing sexual happening, yet you drink the tea and sneak into their rooms and won’t tell me what’s going on.”

I turn away from the mirror to look at her, reaching for her gnarled hands. “They’re good males, I just want to help them, is all. Father doesn’t exactly smile on simple favors.”

She huffs, “Your heart has always been bigger than your head.”

“I feel… kind of like I’ve been asleep for a long time and when I woke up I didn’t recognize who I was in the mirror. I’m just trying to find myself again.” It’s the closest to the truth as I can get. “I’m sorry that I’ve worried you.”

She frees herself from my grip to touch my cheek gently. “Just promise me that you will be careful. If anything were to happen to you…”

“I promise.”

She nods then takes my shoulders and spins me back to face the mirror. “Good, then let’s fix this awful hair of yours!”

Better to have her focusing on making me presentable than all the possible dangers we have to face just by leaving the room. I feel terrible, leaving her in the dark about it all, but I can’t tell her the truth, not yet. It is too soon; it leaves too much to chance. I still have hope that I can find a way by the end of the day to convince them to get on that boat and then she will never have to think about it again. The worst will be behind us.

I may have underestimated just how bad this was going to be.

For one thing, I didn’t anticipate Amarantha showing up at the front gates before I had a chance to slip into the Illyrians’ room. Let alone bring a whole entourage of slaves and guards, all painted in her colors and dressed for the parade. The sight of her in my sanctum makes me want to start hurling things at her head, but I manage to keep a poker face as she dismounts from her chariot, pulled by a white horse with a speckle of gray across its glossy coat. One of Father’s prized war horses; a gift from a battle years ago.

“General, you honor me with this surprise visit,” the words taste like bile. Why is she here in my place of refuge? She’s never bothered to venture this far away from the Capitol before.

She glances around warily, like something might pop out of the sprawling gardens and bite her. “I came to check on your progress.”

“How kind of you.” I intentionally don’t draw attention to the path that leads to the guest house. “Would you like some refreshments? You must be tired from your journey.” The last thing I need is her poking around.

“No. We need to be on our way. I assumed you’d need help leading your new pets out.”

“Not at all. I have everything under control.” Bitch.

She grins but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “Good, then let’s get moving, shall we? Don’t want to keep your Father waiting.”

This is all happening a lot faster than I anticipated, but I will have to make the most of it. Her being here means they were right last night, I really had thrown Father off his game. Now he’s trying to compensate by sending her to feel out how I’ve managed this far. I keep my shoulders back as I tell one of the guards to bring the males out. I must remain in control.

I must keep my well-trained mask of courtly manners in place.

That’s a lot harder when the second curveball of the day comes hurling my way: I’d sent my tailor with an order to find my mates suitable pants, boots, and tunics. We weren’t going to have the time for anything fancy. With a few more hours I might have been able to find armor suitable for a Gladiator to wear out in public. A moot point one way or the other, because they wouldn’t have worn it. Not one of them is wearing the outfit I selected. In fact, I’d barely call the swatch of fabric adorning their bronze skin clothing. It’s closer to a toga, one half of the beige fabric pinned over their left shoulders, draping down in gentle waves down their waists, where it eventually falls to their upper thighs, one side slit nearly all the way open. It leaves half their tattooed chests bare, the swirls of tattoos on stark display. There’s so much open across Rhysand’s ensemble that I can very clearly see the curvature of his ass if he’s standing in any direction that’s not looking at me directly.

It is an effort to keep my jaw off the floor. What the fuck are they doing?

I don’t know if the guards attached leashes to the gorsian collars around their throats or if they did that themselves; at this point, it wouldn’t surprise me.

“I’ve underestimated you, Highness,” Amarantha says.

The words might as well have been spoken by a fly, they don’t even register. I can’t stop staring at them, at the miles of bare skin and muscle on display. Ember did a good job putting them back together last night, the bruises fading, the smaller cuts and scrapes nothing more than a swatch of fresh skin. Rhysand’s arm is still bandaged, as are Azriel’s wings, but they do not drape on the floor today. They all stand ready, heads high. The posture feels like a challenge; they should be defeated, they lost the battle, they’re chained here to me, but they don’t look it. They command the space around them.

I feel a flash of pride when I look at them. Even with all my training, I’d never be able to be this confident. Despite all their losses, they haven’t given up.

“I might have to challenge your claim on them,” Amarantha says, her gaze lingering too long on Rhysand for my liking.

Something ugly and possessive rears its head inside me and all I see is red. My hands ball into fists at my sides as my powers flare in my palms. Keep it together! Keep it together!

“And miss the parade in your honor?” I say as sweetly as I can. “My Father would be so disappointed.”

She sneers at me, perfectly white teeth flashing, “Wouldn’t be much of a challenge for me, would it, Highness?”

I’ve never shown anyone the full extent of what I’m capable of; it would be too dangerous to unleash that much power on the world. It won’t do me any good now to try and boast about what I keep hidden beneath my skin. “You’ve done enough fighting, save the challenges for your Attor.”

She huffs as she climbs back into her golden chariot.

It’s not really a victory, but it is the best I can hope for. Time will be the only thing keeping her in check today. If it wasn’t for the parade, she might be tempted to keep pushing the issue, and as much as I’d love an opportunity to shove a blast of obsidian power through her chest, I have bigger issues to deal with. I can’t let her get in the way of the plan.

My mates watch the exchange closely. Azriel hovers a little closer than someone supposed to be shackled to me should. His shadows are missing. Hidden somewhere, maybe behind his wings to avoid detection, or the sunlight, but the intensity in his gaze reminds me that there isn’t anything happening he isn’t aware of.

Rhysand gives me the subtlest of nods as the stable boy brings my own horse out. Anise must have sent them for me; she’s undoubtedly watching from the window. I have never been more keenly aware of how many sets of eyes are watching my every move, which is saying something, considering I’ve never left this house without a squadron of guards or some form of chaperone. Every breath I take feels like it’s being monitored, which is unfortunate, because the next issue of the day becomes the moment I realize the guards left with the wagon yesterday and I don’t have any other horses. How am I supposed to get them all the way across the Capitol?

I’m out of my element. It’s one thing to freeze in front of some guards who don’t know me well enough to see the panic in my eyes, it’s entirely another to in front of Amarantha, who can smell fear like a fucking bloodhound. She won’t stop grinning at me either, like she’s a cat watching a mouse creep slowly up to a baited trap. We’ve just started this, I can’t already fail!

The invisible force that is Rhysand slips right into my mind again as panic freezes me in place. My body moves for me, tethering the leashes in my hand to the saddle of my horse.

Amarantha’s grin falters.

I am not making my mates walk behind me the entire time! This, somehow, feels worse than the brand!

But I can’t fight his grip on me. My shields were low enough, I’d forgotten to enforce them, he’d slipped right in and taken control just like he had yesterday. I can’t do this!

“You can,” that silky smooth voice is like a caress against the inside of my skull as he moves me into the saddle of my horse.

I can feel Cassian’s glare between my shoulderblades, as if he’s imagining exactly where he’d drive his sword. The tether that links us feels even more frayed than it had yesterday, as if someone is taking a knife and swaying it away fiber by fiber. Worse, that someone is me.

Rhysand brushes a mental hand down my spine and my whole body trembles as if it had been physical. “It’s all right. You’re just doing what we asked you too.”

Amarantha starts moving, the grin now a full scowl. This is not at all how she thought this morning would go. I’m grateful she’s so distracted by the failure that she isn’t paying attention to the tears pooling in the corners of my eyes. This is beyond cruel and unfair!

“We’ve endured a lot worse than this,” he explains as he uses me to get my horse moving.

The collars around their throat rattle as they get yanked along behind me and I think I might never get that godsdamned sound out of my head as long as I live.

“When we lost that battle in Illyria, they kept all of my soldiers chained together, naked and bleeding in the snow. They made them watch as they burned our cities to the ground, with their families locked inside the Temple.”

Revulsion rolls its way through my stomach, as I flick my gaze to Amarantha; she’s always been a monster, she’s never bothered to hide it, but I’d never known the gory details. Father praised her for doing whatever was necessary to win, I knew that involved a lot of shed blood, but I’d never seen the true cost of her victories.

Maybe I’d never wanted to see. It had been easier to just keep my head down and accept that this was how the world I lived in worked. I’d been too terrified of what might happen if I challenged it; hell, I’d been too terrified of what would happen to even look at it. It had always been easier to turn and hide from it, withdrawing into myself where the monsters couldn’t reach me. How many people have I hurt by turning a blind eye?

“Amarantha made Cassian pick which of his men would live. Five out of every group of ten to be taken as slaves. The other five to be crucified. She did it in waves, five for every city we stopped at for supplies. Five to be a warning to the other Courts. Until we came to the Arena; then the question became which of us would fight and die. He chose us, so that, at least, the rest of his men may find a chance to escape.”

Rhysand won’t loosen his grip on me enough to let me turn in the saddle to look at them. He probably thinks I’ll lose my nerve if I do. My chest aches for them and what they’ve had to endure on the way here.

“If you hadn’t stepped in yesterday, Hybern would have killed Cassian and Azriel.”

“But not you?” His hold on me is not so strong that I can’t, at the very least, talk back to him. The connection soon becomes soothing, instead of like fighting against adamant. As time goes on, I can begin to feel the distinction in the tethers that link our souls. While they are still thin, and tangled in the heart of it, there is a glittering, starlight lined piece that leads me to him, and the connection feels like it builds on top of itself little by little as we go. Maybe the bond is not, totally, unsalvageable.

“I caught a glimpse in Hybern’s head. He was too far away for a good look, but I saw enough. At least for a little while, he wants me alive. I don’t know why. I assume to make a bigger display of my failure than Amarantha has already made, but I can’t be sure. I think that he might have let me live yesterday and killed them as punishment for speaking out. Judging by the way Amarantha’s acting today, I think that she expected to get me as a prize afterwards.”

My teeth clench involuntarily at the thought.

“I know that what I’ve asked of you is uncomfortable. It will be a hard role to play, but it is not without advantages.” Despite Cassian’s misgivings during their argument last night, him and Azriel had seemed to be in agreement that they needed me for this. If I cannot spare them entirely from pain, at least I can keep them out of Amarantha’s claws. A tiny victory, but still a victory.

The road ahead of us is long, physically speaking the trek into the city is several miles, and figuratively because there’s a lot of hoops to jump through and masks to wear and angles to work. This will not be an overnight endeavor. That ship with their freedom quickly feels like its slipping out of my reach.

“But are there not advantages to leaving while you have the chance?” There is nothing but a long, winding road lined with hills of rolling wheat between us and the outskirts of the city, I might as well make my attempt now.

“Not if it means abandoning my people.”

Stubborn male.

“This will be your Empire one day, do you not feel responsible for the people within it?”

As the sun continues to climb, so does the temperature. Sweat begins to bead its way across my hairline.

“It will not be my Empire,” I counter; especially considering what I had bargained to ensure their freedom. “My Father doesn’t think I know it, but he added a clause to his will that states, in the event of his death, my husband will take the throne.”

Through the mental connection, I feel him stiffen behind me.

And maybe because I’m desperate for any possible chance to push them towards that ship, I add, “And make no mistake, my Father has already chosen which male to pawn me off to.”

Anger flashes its way across the bond. A sign, I should think, that he at least knows there’s something there.

“He would leave you no choice?”

The question is laughable. For all the terrible things my Father has done, he truly thinks he’d still care about my consent in any aspect of my life? “He pretended for a while that I did, but his displeasure was always made clear. Not that it matters, now. I’ve already agreed to marry whoever he wishes.”

A growl works its way down the bond between us. “Why?”

“Did you think he would spare your lives for free?” A low blow and I know it, but I haven’t been able to stop thinking about how Cassian had called me a spoiled little princess who’d never felt the effects of this Empire. My suffering has been nothing compared to theirs. No life time could ever compensate for that kind of torture. There is no contest here. But I am not immune to my Father’s whims either and I need them to understand that this is not the better option. They need to be on that ship. And if they feel the bond at all, if there is any push to be near me, I need to use it to get them to see how dangerous it is to be around me. I can shield them a little bit. I can stand between Amarantha. I can stay my Father’s hand on occasion. But it will not last. Nothing lasts long against them.

Rhysand is silent for a long time. Long enough that I feel his grip on me slip away, allowing me to turn my head and watch the three of them. They’re keeping pace easy enough, even with the bandage around Cassian’s thigh and the added weight of the bandages around Azriel’s wings. But it’s their eyes that catch my attention: Glazed over like they’re not seeing me at all. I’ve seen that look before, when the twins reach into someone’s head. The collar must limit his ability to reach out to more than one person at the time. He’s withdrawn to speak with them instead.

I keep my shields down, waiting for him to come back, praying to the Mother that it worked, that they’re at least, reconsidering this foolhardy notion of theirs.

Amarantha’s men must have cleared the streets on their way down here, usually, the twisting pathways of hard packed earth are crowded with carts and beasts of burden as they tend to the budding wheat stalks, but there are none. It is a strange silence, there are usually workers singing in between the rows as they weed and water and remove pests from the grounds. No birds sing. It’s as if the whole area knows a red-headed predator walks among them.

I find myself studying her, careful not to let the rage I feel at the thought of what she’d done to my mate’s rises back to the surface. Silence has always been dangerous for me, it gives me too long to think. And right now, all I can think about is how easy it would be to blast her in the back of the head with the dark ether that prowls beneath my skin. One of her slaves carries her helmet, the dark horse hair plume billowing in the warm summer breeze. None of her guards rides close enough to block the blow. Sure they’ll be an issue afterwards, but they won’t be able to save her. She’d be nothing more than a blood stain in the rode.

And then what? What would it help? It can’t erase what she’s already done to them. Even if I could take out the guards and we all made a break for that ship, Father would never let it go. He’d blame them, probably lie to the people and say I’d been kidnapped or brainwashed into doing it, and then he and everyone in the Empire would hunt us down until we were dragged back or killed. They’d never have any rest. No, I need to get them to get that ship and I need to find a way to make sure that no one comes looking.

My head hurts. This is a lot more complicated than I thought it would be. There’s a lot more pieces to play than just moving them onto a ship. I resist the urge to rub my temples. How could someone’s life become so incredibly complex in less than 24 hours?

Rhysand finally returns, his arrival a brush of night kissed shadow that contrasts the summer heat. “Why did you agree to help us?” His voice sounds farther away, it must be a tremendous effort to keep this up for so long around that collar.

“Because I didn’t want to be like him.” That is as close to the truth as I will allow myself to admit to anyone.

His mental hand brushes down my spine, caressing, soothing. I close my eyes for the briefest of moments to savor it. I should not let myself indulge it. I should push it away before he has time to understand why it means so much, but I can’t. I really am a broken, selfish thing, but I can’t push him away like I should.

“Has he given you a time frame for the marriage?”

“No, but I’m sure he will soon.”

As we crest a hill, the walled edges of the capitol finally come into view, Father’s crimson banner billowing from the parapets. As we draw closer, I can start to see another banner hanging from the great, stone walls: Amarantha’s familial crest, emblazoned on a black banner, the great beast in the center, edged in crimson. The shape of the crest always bothered me. The edges were never smooth and even, like someone had put too much ink on the pen, letting it bleed. Maybe that was the point. Amarantha’s whole family line had clawed its way to power by shedding someone else’s blood.

It’s jarring to see her banner hang next to my Father’s. No one has that kind of power in the Empire. Not even my Mother had the sway to earn a banner in her name, no matter the exploits she’d brought within the Capitol’s walls.

My stomach twists.

“Then we may need to rush our plans a little.”

I pretend to fiddle with something in the saddle so I can look back at him. Sweat drips down his forehead, trailing lines down his exposed chest. There is nothing short of sheer determination etched into every line of his face.

Beside him, Azriel keeps pace, shadows peeking out from behind his wings in agitated waves. A look that would be intimidating on its own, but only worsened by the promise of violence in his eyes.

So much for making the ship.

“Don’t be rash and do something stupid,” I retort, as the sound of trumpets draws my attention off of them. There’s a cluster of horses and people waiting up ahead. As we draw nearer, I can start to make out the familiar faces of Father’s Praetorian Guards. Then Brannagh and Dagdan, atop their auburn steeds, bought at a hefty price from the Autumn Court. And finally, in his own golden chariot, pulled by a prized war horse, a golden laurel wreath atop his salt and pepper hair, stands my Father.

I swallow the lump in my throat.

“I mean it, Rhysand,” I snarl when he doesn’t answer me. “If you do something stupid now he’ll kill all of you. No pleading on my part will save you.”

I’m suddenly not sitting on the horse anymore, the world around me spinning and twisting and the trumpets and horns starting to play along the roadside sound like execution bells. My stomach rises in my throat; heart echoing to an octave that sounds like beating drums. I can’t see them, I can’t see the parade of people assembling all I can see is my Mother in those awful, dull gray robes, stripped of all the finery she always adorned herself, walking right to the executioner's block in chains.

“Breathe.” I must have been holding my breath because the memory comes to a grinding halt before I can rewatch her head roll off her shoulders and Rhysand is back in my head, gently shaking the memory from my grip.

“It’s over. You’re all right. Take another deep breath for me.”

My horse won’t stop moving and I swear my Father doesn’t blink the entire time he watches us approach. That slate gray gaze, so similar to my own, is empty and cold and it pierces through me like an ice pick.

“We’re not doing anything today, remember? Just observing. We need to see what we’re up against.”

I have to fight every instinct not to turn and look at him. I need to keep my head up, I need to not look like I’m going to throw up all over the floor. I cannot ruin this.

Father’s mood shifts when he turns his attention to Amarantha, and smiles. “General,” he calls out, the horde of people surrounding him parting so he can move to greet her. “I see you had no issues on your way here.”

“Dick,” Rhysand hisses as I sit there getting ignored.

“Please, just stick to observing. I can’t…” I shake off the memory as best I can, embarrassed that I showed him in the first place. “I can’t lose anyone else.”

The bond flickers with understanding, a moment of shared grief passing between us. I don’t know what else he has lost, but the emotion that flits between us is enough to show me it’s not mere pity. “Don’t worry, there’s not going to be room to do anything in this crowd,” he assures.

And he’s right, starting at the open gates is a whole crowd of people, all waving flags and streamers and cheering. The whole city is packed against the main road, held back by a thin barrier or red tinted magic. Every house in the Capitol has to be empty. Someone has thrown roses down onto the road, the perfume so strong I can smell it from here.

Behind us, more beings begin to arrive. I note some of Amarantha’s commanding officers and a few Senators. A couple of the Lords who have bent the knee and submitted to Father’s reign follow.

Amarantha stands a little straighter as they approach, preening under all the attention.

A steward with a very long scroll shuffles around in the chaos, trying to organize everybody into rows, his shrill voice echoing above the crowd with a little help from some lesser magic. Drummond has been in the service of the Empire since my great-grandfather was Emperor, he’s gotten pretty good at getting people to listen to him.

We’re quickly organized into sections, with Father and Amarantha in the front and everyone following in line behind them by rank and station. There is a large gap in between where Father and Amarantha ride and where I sit with my mates, just ahead of the other nobility. My birthright keeps me close to the front, but the gap between me and them is noticeable. I am not a part of their inner circle, I’ve only ended up ahead of they’re favored elites because I have the face of the Illyrian rebellion chained to my horse. It is not as if I want to be close to them, in fact, the distance helps me breathe a little easier, but the space between my Father and I has never felt so visible. We are two ships on opposite sides of an ocean. Mother used to whisper, when she thought I couldn’t hear, that the Goddess had cursed him by giving him me. Not only was I not the son he’d prayed for, I was not even a daughter he could benefit from having. He’d tried to hide that from his closest confidants, it’s why he allowed the River House. It kept me close enough to not become a problem, and far enough away to hide his shame. It used to bother me, now I can’t help but wonder if perhaps there was a reason I’d never belonged here. Maybe the distance had given me the eyes I’d needed to see my mates for what they were. If I had been born different, if I had become someone like Brannagh or Amarantha, would I have ended up here?

My musings are interrupted by Dummond as he side-steps Cassian, giving the General a far wider berth than necessary as he looks back and forth between his scroll and us. “Hmmm, should be a enough room I suppose?” He mutters, pen furiously scratching in the margins of what looks to be a very well filled out list.

Cassian’s wings suddenly unfurl behind him, as if he’s stretching his arms, the great, leathery membrane catching the early afternoon sun, as the spiked tip catches Dummond in the back of the head hard enough to make him drop the scroll.

The aging elf gives a yelp of surprise as he skitters after it like it’s made of gold. “Gods-damned Illyrian brute!”

“Cass,” Rhysand warns as the guards shift in our direction.

“What? My wings were cramping,” Cassian counters, looking smug, even as he snaps his wings shut behind his large body. I could watch him do that all day. If I’d had the supplies, I’d attempt to paint the way the sunlight reflects the hints of red and blue, highlighting all the scars that map their way across his wings. How many battles do you have to fight to have scars like that?

Dummond scurries past us to intercept a caravan of wagons, keeping his precious scroll clutched tight to his chest this time. He’s always been a little skittish--who isn’t around my Father?--but today looks like it’s worn down his nerves. I can practically hear his knees shaking as he directs the wagons down the little path that converges on the mainroad. The closer it gets, the louder the sound of rattling chains becomes.

Grief consumes me, so hot and heavy the three of them might as well have screamed themselves hoarse down the bond simultaneously. It is an effort not to grasp at my chest, as if they’re pain is a physical wound I can hold in my hands. I don’t need to see what comes our way to know what it is, but their arrival plays out in slow motion ahead of us. The wagons are all built to be moveable cages, walls of gorsian stone bars holding in too many bodies to count. There’s a padlocked door at the back of each and when a guard swings it open, a jumble of winged bodies tumble outward. Chains clank and rattle and male after winged male gets shoved into even lines ahead of us. They’re all a mess of blood soaked bandages and dirt; the number of wings more twisted than Azriel’s had been is too high to number. Once a wagon is empty it is directed out of the way and another takes its place, just as full as the last. There has to be at least a hundred Illyrians, all shackled and beaten ahead of us.

Dummond stays a healthy distance from them, counting down the numbers on his list to ensure they’re all in place. Not that it would be necessary, none of them fight it. Most stand with their heads to their bare chests--gods above half of them are still naked!

Rhysand has withdrawn himself from my head again, but I can still feel his pain down the bond just as well. These are his people, and he can’t save them from this.

Cassian’s pain soon turns sharp as a blade, rage pulsing down the bond.

I wish I had the words to comfort them; the power to make this all stop, but I am as helpless as I always have been. No words will soothe this offense.

How could Father do this?

Dummond carries on as if he is organizing cattle. The guards use the butts of their spears to keep any male that moves too far from the group back in line. Their force is excessive. The blow knocks the already beaten males into each other, causing a domino effect that brings a third of the Illyrians down into the dirt. I can’t make out the words, but I can hear the whimpers of pain; hear the coughing and wheezing that comes from untreated injuries and illnesses that only come when too many people are crammed together for too long.

There isn’t enough time to process the full scope of what’s happening before a set of trumpets starts blowing from the city’s outer walls. Shit it’s starting!

It’s like a bad dream as the procession begins to move, Father and Amarantha first. There are mages positioned down the fairway, their hands outstretched towards the sky as they weave colorful ribbons of magic like streamers above our heads. The bands move in time to the music, flashing in Amarantha’s colors first, then Father’s. Small children throw more roses into the street as the Emperor and esteemed General make their way into the city.

“All hail the Emperor!” Roars the crowd. “All hail Amarantha the Conqueror!”

Conqueror. The Illyrian captives are forced to follow after them, shuffling on bare feet and boots that are falling apart across cobblestones that have to be burning as the sun continues to rise across the cloudless sky.

There are small children in attendance, sitting on their parents shoulders, waving miniature versions of Amarantha’s crest. This feels like the most heinous part of the whole ordeal; are we to encourage this brutality in our children? They let their toddlers throw roses and dance along to the music, enthralled by the light show that flashes overhead as the procession moves through the city.

Dummond makes sure to leave plenty of room between the last row of Ilyrians and us, as if they’re scared to let them get too close to Rhysand. As if, the mere proximity of him might incite an uproar all over again.

At this point I’d welcome it. I’d happily watch the whole procession go up in flames.

Power rumbles through my veins and I’m forced to tear my gaze away from the crowd to keep anything from escaping out of my skin.

“Steady,” Rhysand warns as we inch closer to the front gates. The crowd continues to cheer and celebrate ahead of us as the procession follows the path to the Imperial Palace several miles into the city. It will be a long road ahead of us, yet it feels like it’s been happening for ages.

“I’m sorry.” Sorry is not strong enough an emotion. No sorry’s will ever be enough.

“Do you see why we need your help?” He counters as a wisp of Azriel’s shadow crawls up my shoulder and dives beneath my hair. The little ether of power slithers like a snake up around my ear, hidden under my hair, observing with a gentle hiss. I wonder if he’s using it to see what’s coming ahead of us.

The road up ahead makes me wish he wasn’t here to see any of it at all. Being on the horse gives me a vantage point, lets me see around the corner we take to get to the heart of the capitol. The crowd has thickened even further here, bodies pushing up against the magic barriers, chanting and shouting to be heard. Except, the closer we get, the clearer the jumbled words become. As Amarantha’s chariot passes through, the noise soon turns from cheers and celebration to boos and curses. It’s the first hint that something is about to go terribly wrong and I feel my powers once again flair in defence.

The shift in the crowd is not the worst of it, even when they start hurling rotting vegetables and rocks at their captive entertainment. Blood splatters as someone gets hit in the head, nearly knocking down a whole row of males in the chaos.

I don’t even have time to flinch before Rhysand is once again holding me in place in the saddle. This time I’m not sure if it’s my nerves or his. The bond bleeds like an open wound between us, agony dripping into my consciousness.

More of Azriel’s shadows cluster beneath my hair, sitting like a snake, coiled and hissing as we go deeper into the city. This crowd will easily become a mob given the slightest provocation.

“Traitors!” The crowd shouts. “Send the Illyrian dogs back where they belong!”

The guards keeping the Illyrians in line don’t do anything to quell the crowd, letting rotting tomatoes and hearts of moldy lettuce get hurled like projectiles at a group of wounded males too beaten to fight back.

My stomach sits like a rock in my throat.

The deeper we get into the city, the worse it gets, and not just because there are more people here, but because, as we draw up to the center of town, there are crosses along the walkway, all holding a male with wings nailed to the cross beams.

The males in the front of the line freeze at the sight. One of them wails and falls to his knees, only to be forceable hauled up by the Praetorian.

“Crucify the lot of them!” The crowd roars.

“Send the bastards back to the arena!”

A rock comes hurtling towards my head so fast I don’t even have time to shield, my only saving grace Azriel’s shadow that goes flying out in front of me to catch it and let it fall to the ground beside me. Rhysand won’t turn to let me thank him; won’t let me do anything but keep my eyes straight ahead of me. Not even when I hear the sound of something hitting one of them.

I’d cry if I had the ability, but he seems to have locked that away from me too. I feel like a statue as we continue forward, slowly crawling towards the Imperial Palace, unable to move or react. Even as we pass closer to the bodies, blood still dripping from open gashes across their tattooed chests. Some of the males are, mercifully, already dead, but the street is long and the number of them soon becomes hard to track when you can just make out the ones still gasping for air. This is by far the worst thing I’ve ever seen the Empire do.

I tear my gaze away from the carnage to find my Father, waving cheerfully to the crowd ahead of us, as if this is some sort of game. How could one man be so cruel?

“Remember how I said you could ask me about that boat today?” Rhysand says, but his voice is strained. I can feel his pain as if it is my own and I don’t know how he, or any of them, is even upright. It’s debilitating. I feel it crawl into every crevice of my being. My muscles fight the hold he has on me to try and curl up into a ball to avoid it.

“Still think it’s a good idea?”

Like he can feel my gaze, the Emperor turns to catch my eye, one brow furrowed as if in question. For the first time in my life, I don’t shy away from the appraisal. Pain has walked alongside me my whole life, it has been a companion I have learned to hold hands with. But this? Having to live with the knowledge that these are wounds inflicted on my mates because no one has stood up to the Empire?

I’ve accepted a lot of shitty things in my life. I looked the other way when I couldn’t. But no more.

This ends.

And it ends with me.

“No. I don’t.” I snarl.

I can feel Rhysand’s grin through the bond. “Then welcome to the Rebellion, Princess.”

--------

Tag List:

@sirenpearldust, @saltedcoffeescotch, @littlemissfix-itfic, @waka-babe, @raisam

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@marrass, @lia-h-r, @celestialzdiviner, @daughterofthemoons-stuff

Thank you all for your patience I know this chapter took me a little longer than usual to write! <3 As always, if you want to be added to the tag list let me know =)

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abbyshands · 1 year ago

Note

More Jealous Dom Abby Please 🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️

jealous!abby headcanons

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a/n; well—ask and you shall receive! these are kinda jealous, kinda possessive, but i hope they suffice anyway <3 also this is my kinda my first time doing headcanons so if they suck. . .no they don’t!

pairing; dom!abby anderson x sub!fem!reader

warnings; most of this is smut, some is just plain jealousy/possessiveness lol, use of a strap-on is heavily implied, cunnilingus, just dom abby doing dom abby things tbh, abby uses love/baby

└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘

✮ jealous!abby who will give you her jacket if you’re showing a little too much skin. it could be a tank top, skirt, dress, short bottoms; it doesn’t really matter. what does is that you’re showing yourself off to the world, when it’s a view only she should get to see. she’ll wrap her jacket around your waist, or make you put it on, and when you pout in response, she’ll yank you in closer by your hips, hands roaming down to your ass. “don’t look at me like that, baby. you know i don’t like people seeing what’s mine.”

✮ jealous!abby who will let anyone know she’s yours even if she doesn’t have to. every single party you go to in the wlf, you have to sit on abby’s lap or beside her, her arms wrapped around your waist, not allowing you to leave, not that you’d want to. you’re usually wearing a short dress that she’ll glare at anyone for looking at the wrong way, blood boiling when anyone but her pays you more attention than they should be. once, a girl told you how gorgeous you were hardly half an hour into the party, and abby was dragging you away quickly. “we’re leaving,” she growled, and you had no choice but to respond. as soon as you got back to her room, your lips were being pounded by her cock.

✮ jealous!abby who has to work her feelings out at the gym from time to time because she would do things for you that she shouldn’t. she comes into the gym pissed, and fucks up her usual weekly schedule and just does what feels good in the moment. moves from bench presses, to back squats, to regular lifting. but her preference is always the punching bag when she’s pissed.

✮ jealous!abby whose feelings of jealousy always end in aggressive, dominant sex. she has the urge to let you know that you’re hers each time someone makes any sort of pass at you. she’ll take you from behind, hand gripped in your hair as she pounds into you from the back. “good fucking girl,” she’ll groan as she slaps you on the ass a few times, getting you to easily moan her name as she breaks you. “no one else can fuck like me, right? s’just my cock you want?”

✮ jealous!abby whose feelings of jealousy can also end in cunnilingus, her receiving. she still manages to find a way to be forceful even when she’s on the receiving end. she’ll wrap her legs around your head, forcing you to dive deeper and deeper into her swollen pussy, making it hard for you to take oxygen. “so pussydrunk f’me, love,” she groans in a jeering tone of voice as she grinds onto your face, pressing her clit onto your tongue. “fuuuck, just like that, baby,” + “is it too much, baby? mmm, well, too bad.”

✮ jealous!abby who decked a guy across the face once for moving his hand too close to you, assuming he was going to lay his hands on you. turns out, the guy was just going to talk to you about an upcoming assignment, but abby didn’t give him enough time before blood was spilling from his nose. she argued with you afterwards that she didn’t have jealousy issues, because, in her defense, “he made a jab at me first!”

✮ jealous!abby who hates when girls, and guys, look at you when you wear those leggings in the gym that clearly define your body. it’s a wonder she hasn’t cussed anyone out. “what? move along,” she’ll say in a firm tone of voice to anyone who moves too close to you when you’re doings your sets, gawking. “she’s mine,” and “fucking go somewhere else,” are also things she has said, and will say again if necessary!

✮ jealous!abby who makes it unlikely that anyone will come up to you, because everyone knows you’re hers. if there’s a newcomer in the wlf who’s crushing on you, someone else will fill them in on why they shouldn’t pursue you. and if anyone comes too close, abby will give them a glare, a reminder, that you’re taken.

✮ jealous!abby whose friends accused her of being jealous, to which she heavily denied. it was her, manny, jordan, and leah, drinking in abby’s room. when you came up, manny was the first to bring abby’s jealousy to the discussion as well. “i don’t—i don’t have jealousy issues. i don’t get jealous,” abby said as she took a swig from her glass, but everyone in that room knew she did, and she knew she did, too. “yeah, right. cause you yelling at that one guy over him looking at her ‘the wrong way’ isn’t jealousy,” jordan laughed. “it’s not. just—he was,” abby grumbled.

✮ jealous!abby who took her jealousy up with issac when she found out you would be on assignment with some other girl, alone. she had a million things to do in the wlf and an upcoming mission of her own: but you always came before. when she told you she would now be coming with you on your mission, you just had to laugh. “you just don’t want me alone with someone that’s not you,” you smiled. abby leaned in close to you—you were in her room—and grabbed you by the hips, pulling you closer to her on the bed. “so what if i don’t? i told you you’re mine.”

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reblogs are very much welcomed <3

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#abby anderson #abby anderson smut #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x y/n #abby anderson x you #abby anderson fan fiction #abby anderson the last of us 2 #abby anderson fic #abby anderson tlou2 #abby anderson x female reader #abby tlou #tlou abby #the last of us smut #tlou smut #tlou2 smut #ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི₊ ⊹ kit’s works

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minawritesfanfic · 5 months ago

Text

You are who you eat

Dexter Morgan x Reader

Word count: 2k

Summary: You thought you were the only rational serial killer in maimi but when you walk in on a certain someone from work, you realize you’re view of the world was very shallow.

Part 1

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I hummed to myself as I walked into work, Miami Metro Police Department. In one hand was four cups of fresh coffee and in the other a donut that I’d bought for myself, I greeted the girl at the front desk, Alissa, we said a quick hello and exchanged pleasantries before I continued down the hallway towards my office. I greeted nearly everyone I saw as I passed them making idly plans to visit this person, go to that persons birthday, and go swimming with another. After three more invitations I finally managed to make it to my sweet corner of the station and was greeted by familiar faces, only Jackie looked up at me with a smile. Sterling and Josefina l exhausted after pulling an all nighter.

“Good morning, you guys look like you need this.” I set down the coffees on their desks and looked up gratefully.

“You’re a godsend mi vida, you’re the reason I live.” Josefina said as she sipped away at her coffee and I just laughed as I set down my own coffee.

“You’re welcome, how come you guys are still here?”

“I’m still finishing my report but then I’m leaving.” Sterling said stretching his arms for a bit before grabbing his coffee.

“I was on my way out, just waiting for you to get here. These are for you to give to homicide, while I am going home to sleep for five days straight.” She grabbed a box off the floor and handed it to me.

“Uhh what’s this?” I asked as I damn near dropped the box from to how heavy it was, inside there were various old looking laptops.

“These are all the new computers that need to be distributed to the homicide department, but first we need to make sure they’re all using the correct and up to date software. Heads up most of them don’t.”

“So this is what all the approved overtime was for, just great. Alright I’ve got it from here, I’ll see you Thursday Josie.” I said as I set the box on the floor beside my desk.

I waved to Josefina as she left before sitting down at my desk, I booted up my computer and checked my email for my assignments for today. There were only three thankful so I decided to get those out of the way before starting on the computers for the homicide, I sent a quick reply and stood. I grabbed my coffee and took a sip as I stepped out the office, first on the agenda was a blue screen in one of the departments upstairs. I happily sipped at my coffee as I made my way to the elevator and as I pressed the button for the next floor I heard someone call out for me to hold the elevator. I did and a guy I had seen around a few times stepped into the elevator with his bag and he thanked me smiling politely. The elevator stopped at the next floor and we both stepped out, the man went straight ahead to homicide and I watched him for a moment before heading to left to internal affairs where I’d been requested and went to see what the issue was.

Thankfully I managed to finish all my assignments and with the computers for homicide at a reasonable hour, so I still have time to start preparing for my next meal, pot roasted Roger Hicks. Full time car salesman part time scum bag, he came on my radar after his name popped up in an ongoing case. After meeting with him in person and visting his home it was clear that he was exactly the kind of scum I thought he was, and tonights was the night I take him and turn him a more refined dish. I decided to stake out at the car dealership, wait for everyone to leave then strike him just as he’s leaving.

Finally the sun had set and I knew it was time as I saw Roger leaving the office, he had his bag over his shoulder and seemed to be in a good mood. I quietly got out of my car, I doubled checked my surroundings and started to cross the parking lot towards him when he suddenly turned around. I ducked back where I was and hid behind one of the show cars and realized that there was someone behind him, I peeked out from my hiding spot planning to hide until they left Roger alone but to my surprise they started to strangle him with something I couldn’t make out from afar in the dark. I was baffled and frustrated as I couldn’t even make out the other persons face as they had their back to me, all I could do was silently watch as the took the now collapsed Roger and rolled him into their van. I was speechless and frozen in place but composed myself as they got into their car, I had to find out what they were going to do to him. I got back in my car and watched as they high tailed it out of the parking lot, I turned my car on and followed them out.

It was a short drive but I made sure to be careful that whoever this was didn’t catch me followikg them, and I watched as they pulled into the driveway of a house I recognized. One of the victims houses, Ann Cohen, a chill ran down my spine as I drove past the house and parked further up the street. I got out and walked back to the house sneaking up on the side, I tried peeking in through the windows but I couldn’t see much of anything. I was going to have to break in, I sighed and went around to the back door which to my luck was still unlocked. I was thankful I wouldn’t have to lock pick anything because I absolutely sucked at it, I entered the house quietly and shut the door behind me. The house looked relatively untouched beyond some of Ann’s things being packed up in boxes, it was saddening knowing someone so full of life had it snuffed out and tainted. The thought revived my anger reminding me why I had chosen Roger for my next meal, I should be the one killing him not doing whatever this weirdo was trying to do.

I froze as I approached the living room and saw what this mystery person had done to it, it was covered in plastic and as I stepped closer I could see pictures on the wall that I realized where Roger’s other victims. Most notably though was Roger fucking Hicks laid out bare on a table covered in plastic wrap, I crouched down and decided to watch before doing anything rash. I watch through the plastic as this mystery man talked to Roger, I still couldn’t see his face as he had again had his back to me but as he began to walk around I saw him.

“Looks different under plastic but you spent an evening here… with Ann Cohen.” He said pointing to the corner of the room, “You took her last breath from her right over there. You remember?” I barely managed to supress my gasp of surprise. I know this guy, I work with this guy.

“No! You’re- you’re wrong, I couldn’t.” Roger denied adamantly and clearly confused.

“Well you would and you did, and you were about to do it again. That’s why we’re here.”

“No, this is insane. You got the wrong guy I-I sell cars, for godsake. I’ve never hurt anyone in my life- definitely not a woman.”

“Why can’t I do that?” The man asked ignoring all of Roger’s pathetic excuses.

“Do what?”

“Lie like that. I mean I thought I was good, but you, it’s.. mwah.” He said walking away to the other side of the table grabbing something that I wasn’t able to see.

“I don’t lie!”

“Okay, that one was weak.”

Roger started to try and buy his way out offering the man but he had a rebuttal to everything he said, it was almost funny watching their interaction. Roger trying everything he could but nothing seemed to work on him, as he so easily saw through his lies. Though as Roger brought up his girlfriend things seemed to take a different turn and he had the man’s full attention, even though his words were uncaring but his body language portrayed a different picture. Roger didn’t see what I saw though and started an angry tangent about how awful women were but he wasn’t rambling on long before the man stabbed him in the chest. I took that as my cue to leave, I knew who this guy was and what his intentions are but I need to learn more I do anything rash. I stood up but my legs were weak from being on the floor for so long, I reached out to the thing neared to me and accidentally knocked over a lamp.

I turned and saw him looking directly towards me but I figured he couldn’t make out my face in the dark, I bolted out the door and back around the house. I could hear him scrambling out to follow me but he didn’t follow me for long, I figured he thought it was better to clean up after himself than chase me. I sighed and got back into my car, driving off without giving it a second thought. My heart was racing and adrenaline pumped through my veins, I had seen a lot of things as a serial killer but never something like this. Sure I’d seen organized and carefully killers before but never like that, that was the king of kill room where nothing was left behind. It was the perfect crime scene, part of me was jealous I hadn’t though of it first it was so much smarter then staying in one place where I could be found. Not that I was going to give up the cozy spot that was my morgue kill room, it was like a third home to me but I couldn’t still admire this guy’s dedication to the craft.

The drive home was quiet, I was so consumed in my thoughts I hadn’t even bothered to turn on the radio. I just couldn’t get what I saw out of my mind and all yhe anger I felt over having my target stolen simply faded away, I was enamored and fascinated by him. Though I needed to do some more research as he may be another person I need to add to my grocery list, I hoped I wouldn’t have to. From his words it seemed like he had targeted Roger specifically because of what he had done to both those girls and was planning to do to another, maybe he killed murders and serial killers like me. Maybe that was me jumping the gun, but it was nice to hope because that definitely wasn’t his first time killing. My mind wandered on and on even as I started unlocking my front door, I pulled out my key and swung the door open before shutting it behind me. I carefully took off my shoes at the front door and proceeded to plop down onto my couch, a wistful sigh left my lips as I started up at the ceiling. I couldn’t wait for tomorrow to come as it would give me the chance to find out who this mystery guy was, for now all I knew was that he worked in homicide. Which was likely where he found Roger, I managed to get a glimpse at the case when I was restoring some files on one of the detectives computers. I wondered what he kept as a trophy for his kills, maybe he photographed them like me. After every meal I turn my victims into, I scrapebook it. Its perfectly inconspicuous and allows me to broadcast it to the whole world with no fear of someone questioning, because without context its just a compliantion of dishes I have made. Regardless it was getting late and I had work in the morning, with a groan I rolled off the couch and disappeared into my bedroom not even bothering to shower before bed.

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#minawritesfanfic #reader insert #x reader #my writing #fanfiction #fluff #dexter moser #dexter morgan #dexter #dexter morgan x reader #first chapter

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rothpie · 1 month ago

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❝FIDELITY❞ |part13

MASTERLIST -`✮´- Rafe Cameron x Kook!Reader x JJ Maybank

Summary: Kook!Reader’s world is upended by betrayal, and her only way forward might lie with the most unlikely person—JJ Maybank. But as they build a new life together, old flames and past mistakes refuse to stay buried.

Warnings: daddy issues

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The golden glow of the late afternoon sun bathed the shoreline in warm hues as the car came to a stop in front of a small, weathered beach house. The rhythmic sound of waves crashing against the shore was faint but unmistakable, a background melody that you hadn’t realized you missed until now. It had been years since you’d last set foot in the Outer Banks, but as you stepped out of the car, it felt like the island hadn’t aged a single day.

From the backseat, Liliana was practically vibrating with excitement, her little sneakers tapping against the edge of the seat as she craned her neck to take in the house and the stretch of sand just beyond. “Is this it? Are we here? Is the beach right there? Can we go now?” Her words tumbled out in a rush, her face lit with pure anticipation. JJ had really hyped this up for her.

JJ chuckled as he opened the trunk, throwing you a knowing glance. “Told you she wouldn’t be able to sit still the second we got here,” he teased, slinging a couple of bags over his shoulder. He leaned into the car to unbuckle Liliana, who was already wriggling like she could free herself. “Hold your horses, Lily! The sand’s not going anywhere.”

“As if you didn’t spend the entire day filling her head with stories,” you shot back, grabbing your bag and giving him a pointed look. He just shrugged, flashing that lopsided grin of his that always brought out his dimples.

“And I’d do it all over again,” he said, stepping closer, the playful glint in his eye unmistakable.

Your brow shot up. “Oh, would you now?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied with mock solemnity, scooping Liliana out of the car like she weighed nothing.

The moment her feet hit the ground, Liliana shot forward like a firework, running a few steps before skidding to a halt and turning back to you both. Her face was a mix of wonder and worry. “But what if the waves get too big and take all the sand away?” she asked, her big eyes wide with concern.

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head as you shut the car door. “That’s not how beaches work, sweetheart.”

JJ walked over, effortlessly lifting Liliana back into his arms. Her little arms wrapped tightly around his neck, and her free hand pointed enthusiastically toward the dunes. “Come on, uncle JJ! You promised to show me the secret seashell spots!”

He adopted an exaggeratedly serious expression, as if carefully considering her words. “Oh, you mean the super secret ones? The ones where mermaids leave their treasures?”

The sharp intake of breath Liliana let out was so dramatic that you were sure the neighbors heard it. “Mermaid treasures? Really? You never told me that before!” She wriggled, trying to break free to race toward the beach.

JJ held her a little tighter, laughing. “Easy, kiddo. First, we have to go over the beach rules. Right, Ma?”

You arched an eyebrow at him, crossing your arms with a faint smirk. “Oh, there are rules now? This is news to me.”

JJ grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he bounced Liliana lightly in his arms. “Rule number one: You always stick with your beach buddy.” He gave Liliana a small shake for emphasis. “And guess what? I’m your official beach buddy. Certified pro.”

Liliana nodded seriously, like he’d just shared the most important information of her young life. “Got it. Beach buddy. What’s rule two?”

JJ tilted his head like he was deep in thought, but you could tell he was stalling. He clearly hadn’t expected her to press for more. The realization made you stifle a laugh.

“Rule two…” He trailed off, then snapped his fingers like he’d just remembered. “Oh, right! Never, ever leave the beach without finding the perfect seashell for your mom.”

The warmth in your chest spread so quickly it was almost overwhelming. You didn’t even try to hide your smile. “A very important rule,” you said softly.

“And no going into the water without our say-so,” you added, shooting JJ a quick look. He nodded firmly in agreement, giving Liliana a playful kiss on the cheek.

“Got that, sweet pea? Most important rule of all,” he said, his voice gentler now.

Liliana turned to you with the most serious expression her tiny face could muster. “Don’t worry, Mom. I’ll find the prettiest one for you. Maybe even a mermaid shell!”

When JJ finally set her down, she took off again, her little feet leaving chaotic patterns in the sand as she dashed toward the dunes. JJ stepped beside you, setting the bags down as he followed your gaze.

“Is everything okay?” he asked quietly, his hand brushing yours in that casual, familiar way that always made your stomach flutter.

You glanced at him, sunlight catching the angles of his face in a way that was almost unfair. Beneath his usual playful demeanor was that rare sincerity that always left you a little breathless. “She already loves it,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Liliana’s excited shout broke through the moment. She stood at the edge of the dunes, waving frantically. “Come on, slowpokes! We’ve got mermaid treasures to find!”

JJ nudged your shoulder and leaned in, planting a quick kiss on your cheek. “You heard the boss.”

And just like that, the two of you trailed after her, leaving the bags behind for now. As you watched Liliana’s tiny figure dart across the vast expanse of sand and sky, the weight of your old worries began to fade.

With JJ and Liliana by your side, the past didn’t seem so heavy anymore. Their laughter and joy had a way of grounding you, steadying you like nothing else could. Almost like a balm for every wound you thought would never heal.

The soft rays of morning sunlight filtered through the expansive windows of Cameron Development's conference room. Rafe sat at the head of the table, pretending to listen to the consultant leading the meeting. Carefully crafted slides lit up the large screen, their graphs and figures giving the room a heavy, serious air. But Rafe’s mind was far removed from the dense mathematics on display.

He absently twirled the pen in his hand, his fingers tapping a rhythmic pattern on the table. The others in the room were focused—scribbling notes, nodding in agreement, and asking sharp questions. Yet Rafe felt as though he were sealed off in a bubble of silence, alone amidst the crowd. Inside, a weight lingered—indescribable and unshakable, like an itch beneath the skin.

“Mr. Cameron, the cost analysis for this property is displayed in the following chart...” a voice began, pulling him out of his thoughts. The woman's words, however, sounded distant, as if she were speaking from another room. Rafe’s eyes flicked to the screen, but the numbers meant nothing. They blurred together like meaningless symbols.

After a moment, his assistant Jasmine leaned over and whispered, “Mr. Cameron, is everything all right?”

Startled, Rafe tore his gaze from the screen and looked at her. He straightened in his chair, shaking his head. “Yes, go on,” he replied, his voice harsher than he intended. Jasmine recoiled slightly before retreating, returning to her notes as the presentation continued.

But that unease—that suffocating sense of discontent—had been with him all morning. Even as he sipped his coffee earlier, he’d tried to pinpoint its source and come up empty. Maybe it was the wine he’d indulged in last night. Or the muggy weather. Yet, deep down, he knew it was neither. This wasn’t the usual stress of work. It felt like a harbinger of something unknown.

He was tired of certain things. Years ago, he’d envisioned this life differently. But now, as his father Ward Cameron prepared to pass the company to him in just a few months, Rafe couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d been chasing the wrong dream. Gaining his father’s approval had been the ultimate goal for years, and now that it was within reach, he wasn’t sure he wanted it anymore.

What did he want? He couldn’t answer that either. But he knew it wasn’t this monotonous grind. Waking up, burying himself in work, and returning home late at night to collapse into bed—it was draining him. He missed having a life.

He felt like a machine. His hangouts with Kelce and Topper had dwindled. There was no one special in his life. Occasionally, they played golf, only to part ways afterward.

Not that he wanted his old life back. The endless partying had lost its appeal long ago. He was closer to thirty than twenty.

Parties were for the young, and he wasn’t young anymore. His life revolved around work now. But even so, he wished for something resembling balance.

No one forced him to work until midnight—he chose it. He could leave at a normal hour, like everyone else. But then he’d just be another employee in his father’s eyes. And yet... he couldn’t tell if his father’s opinion even mattered to him anymore.

The meeting finally wrapped up. As the attendees trickled out, Rafe stayed seated, leaning against the edge of the table and staring out the window. The city outside was alive, its energy a stark contrast to the sterile stillness of the office. Cars passed, people chatted. It was just another day for them. For Rafe, nothing felt ordinary anymore.

He heard Jasmine approach but didn’t turn to her. His gaze remained on the street. Outer Banks moved at its own pace, a rhythm he’d forgotten how to follow. “What’s next on the schedule, Jasmine?”

“There’s a site visit this afternoon, and a meeting at five,” she replied. He nodded, not saying anything more. Taking the cue, Jasmine stepped away.

His phone buzzed in his pocket. Fishing it out, he saw Topper’s name flash on the screen. With a resigned sigh, he answered, “What is it, Topper? I’m busy.”

Grabbing his wallet and car keys from the table, Rafe listened as his old friend’s voice came through, casual and unapologetic. “Man, you’re always busy. It’s boring as fuck!”

Suppressing an eye roll, Rafe considered hanging up. Topper could be exhausting.

Unlike Rafe, Topper hadn’t taken on any family responsibilities. He lived off his parents’ wealth, hosting parties and drinking himself into oblivion on his yacht. It was the life Rafe used to lead, now a distant memory.

“If you’ve called for no reason, I’m hanging up. I’ve got work to do,” Rafe said, heading toward the elevator. He nodded briefly at a few passing colleagues, their polite smiles a reminder of his carefully curated image.

“Don’t tell me you’re skipping my birthday, man. It’s my 25th! It’s gonna be legendary! You know that new yacht my dad got? I’m packing it full of people—drinks, music, girls—the works!” Topper’s enthusiasm was palpable.

Rafe stepped into the elevator, shaking his head at the absurdity of it all. Five years ago, he might’ve been thrilled. Now, it felt like a relic of a life he’d already left behind.

“Topper,” Rafe said, his tone sharp with warning. He rubbed his temple, already tired of the conversation.

“Come on! It’s my birthday! We’re best friends! You can’t ditch me—it’s practically betrayal!” Topper’s mock indignation made Rafe huff out a reluctant laugh. As much as he could be a pain, Topper had been his closest friend since they were kids.

“Fine,” Rafe relented. “I’ll be there. But don’t expect much more from me.”

Topper’s triumphant whoop on the other end made Rafe’s lips twitch into a faint smile. Annoying or not, Topper had a way of breaking through his walls.

“Bring Sarah too,” Topper added slyly. At that, Rafe’s smile vanished, replaced by a sharp furrow of his brows.

"Fuck off. You’re disgusting. She’s married, man." Rafe grimaced as he stepped out of the elevator, almost revolted. He couldn't stomach the idea of his best friend dating his sister again. Once was bad enough; thinking about it now made him queasy all over again.

"I know, I know. I was just joking. Besides, Ruthie would lose her mind if she saw us." Rafe rolled his eyes, heading toward the company entrance.

"If you think I’ll let you use my sister to make Ruthie jealous, I’ll come over there right now and break your nose." He pressed the button on his key fob to unlock his car parked at a distance.

"If that’s what it takes to get you to hang out, sure. Come on, man, I just wanna spend some time with my buddy." Rafe opened the car door and slid into the driver’s seat.

"Yeah, no. Screw off. I’ll see you tonight."

After hanging up on Topper, Rafe let out a deep sigh, though it did nothing to ease the tension gnawing at him. He stared at the phone in his hand for a moment before tossing it onto the passenger seat.

Of course, he’d meet up with him later. It wasn’t like he had anything better to do tonight—today had already been a miserable excuse for a day. Maybe killing time with a drink and some banter would bring a flicker of color back to his gray world.

His schedule after the meeting had him heading out to scout a new piece of land, but he found himself pulling into a store parking lot instead. Maybe he needed a bottle of water, a cup of coffee—or maybe just something, anything.

He’d always hated smoking. The handful of times he’d indulged were just to blend in, and even then, he’d sworn it off years ago. Two years clean, give or take.

But now? Now he craved something—cigarettes, coffee, maybe just a distraction.

Music might help, or something to drown out the endless chatter in his head. He couldn't seem to live with the gnawing unease inside him. Not just live—enjoy. Life had become tasteless.

He was tired of the monotony, yet he didn’t want to fall into the reckless chaos of living without direction. He didn’t want to become like Topper—didn’t want to go back to the way things were four years ago. He’d left that life behind. Still, he couldn’t shake the hollow sense that life itself had no meaning anymore.

Wake up. Coffee. Work. Lunch. More work. Home. Sleep. Repeat.

It wasn’t that he expected something or even hoped for it. He just believed—deep down—that his life needed spontaneity, something unscripted.

When he glanced at other people’s lives, he hated the envy that simmered under his skin. He had everything—literally everything. Half the island bore his family’s name. He had the money, the yachts, the cars, the houses, and the company that would eventually be his.

Thinking back on how hard he’d tried to earn his father’s approval made him cringe. The future had already been set in stone. He would have ended up with it all anyway. Sarah had never wanted the company, not even as a backup plan. She couldn’t picture herself stuck in a 9-to-5 grind. She’d built a life with John B—a life she’d chosen.

Sarah made her choice.

But Rafe couldn’t help feeling like he’d fought too hard for the life he now had. The absurdity of struggling for something he was destined to inherit stung.

Looking at Sarah’s life now—running that local restaurant with the guy she loved, the one they built brick by brick—it was obvious she was happy. They spent their time together. And whenever Rafe saw her, she wore a smile so big it was impossible not to notice.

She enjoyed what she did. She had a purpose, a goal—not a grandiose one, but something she’d worked toward piece by piece.

Rafe had always aimed for the top. He wanted the best and wouldn’t settle for less. Every time he fell short, he hated it. But Sarah Cameron—now Sarah Routledge—knew how to stumble and pick herself up. She wasn’t afraid to rise slowly, setting her sights a little higher each time. Rafe, on the other hand, had always gone straight for the summit.

Sometimes he wished he could be more like her—the beloved child, the one who succeeded without trying too hard, who didn’t draw ire even when they failed.

But those thoughts felt toxic now. He no longer envied Sarah the way he had years ago. He knew her ability to be loved came from the absence of the poisonous thoughts that plagued him.

He didn’t want to look at her with bitterness or jealousy anymore. He wanted to erase those thoughts from his mind. She was his sister, and he was happy for her.

Still, he couldn’t help but admire her.

Rafe pulled his car into the convenience store’s lot and stepped out quickly, desperate for a distraction.

Every time his mind drifted to the past, it felt like his heart skipped a beat. The way he’d treated his sister—the jealousy, the reckless behavior—it was nothing short of awful. He had been a terrible person, a terrible brother.

And a terrible boyfriend.

Even if he wanted to believe those years hadn’t happened, some moments—some memories—clung to him like an unwanted shadow. During the rare moments when he let his guard down, his mind always wandered back to one thing.

Regrets and what-ifs.

His thoughts would take him there, wandering through a maze of past mistakes and fleeting happiness.

Of course, he had happy moments, as everyone did. But the happiest ones stuck with him, refusing to fade—even when he drank to forget them.

And sometimes, he hated that. The harder he tried to drown those memories in alcohol, the sharper they became. He’d never seen himself as the kind of guy to cry drunkenly. Not until the last three years.

He clung to regrets and the potential of what could have been. He despised the ideals and fears that had once defined him. He loathed how every "truth" he’d believed in had turned out to be a lie, and how he was always the wrong person at the wrong time.

Sometimes, he couldn’t help but question and compare the choices his current self made versus the ones he’d made in the past. If he’d do it differently now. Would he, or wouldn’t he? The answer had never once changed: he’d undo every mistake. Every single one. He wouldn’t have done any of it. Not a single thing.

She had been the right person at the right time. There was no way it hadn’t been the right time for her. But for him? Rafe wasn’t so sure. He’d been the wrong person at the wrong time—both, at once.

Rafe stepped into the store, pulling his phone from his pocket as it buzzed with a notification. Jasmine. She was texting about some of the stakeholders causing trouble regarding the new property.

“Perfect,” he muttered under his breath, irritation already bubbling up. He inhaled sharply, trying to calm himself. He had to think this through carefully and not let his temper get the best of him. This wasn’t some minor hiccup in his day—this was business. He couldn’t make rash decisions and screw it all up.

He focused on steadying himself, considering what sort of issue this particular idiot might be stirring up. Was the guy testing his patience on purpose? Trying to push his boundaries?

With another deep breath, he worked to calm the tension in his chest. Ward would have handled this with ease, but Rafe’s impulsive nature had always been his Achilles' heel. He cursed himself for it. Quickly, he typed a reply to Jasmine, asking her to cancel the evening’s meeting and schedule one with the problematic stakeholder instead. He followed up with instructions for Jasmine to stall the guy and keep things civil until then.

As soon as the messages were sent, the sound of his own thoughts drowned out the world around him. It was like something was pulling at him, calling his name. He shoved the phone back into his pocket, trusting Jasmine to handle it. She always did.

Looking up, he ran a hand through his hair, his gaze wandering toward the aisle ahead. That’s when he saw it—the door opening, letting in a gust of cool air. A woman walked in, a small child at her side.

At first, he couldn’t make out her face, but something about the way she moved felt… familiar. Rafe’s heart stuttered, an inexplicable urgency creeping into his veins. He knew her. He knew her well. Or at least—he had, years ago.

The woman stepped further into the store, placing a few items on the counter. Then, she turned.

And Rafe froze.

You.

It was you. He was sure of it. Nothing in his life had ever felt this certain. That face—etched into his memory, the one he used to know every detail of—was still the same, even with the faint traces time had left behind. His heart raced and sank all at once. Seeing you again, after all these years, wasn’t supposed to be this easy.

Four years. Four long years without hearing your voice, without holding your hands. Yet you had never left his mind. Your name, your face, every moment spent with you—they were all still there, as vivid as ever.

You had lost the golden tan you used to have, but your eyes—they spoke volumes. And your smile? God, that smile. It could kill him. A smile that big shouldn’t even be legal.

Shit. You were still breathtaking. Rafe wanted to fall at your feet, worship you. You were still the most beautiful girl on the island, and nobody else even came close.

He had thought about you so much. There were nights he thought he might go insane from not being able to see you. The disappointment he felt when he saw you’d removed most of your Instagram followers, leaving only a few family members, and then made your account private—it had stung more than he cared to admit.

How many times had he stared at your profile picture, wishing he could have just one more chance to stand by your side? To go back and rewrite everything? He couldn’t count. He would’ve given up everything for a do-over.

But then his eyes drifted to the small child by your side. His heart, which had been racing, suddenly slowed to a halt. He hadn’t noticed the little girl at first, too focused on you. She was cheerful, looking around the store with wide eyes, holding up a chocolate bar in her tiny hands. She said something to you, and you bent down with a soft smile to answer her.

But Rafe wasn’t watching that moment of sweetness. He was staring at her face.

Those eyes.

Rafe’s breath caught in his throat. The girl’s eyes—they were his. The same intensity, the same color, the same expression. Something deep inside him caught fire, and for a moment, he couldn’t breathe properly. Everything felt so sharp and clear, yet utterly chaotic.

He had always known this was a possibility. In the back of his mind, he had replayed your last conversation over and over. You’d told him you were drunk. He had assumed you’d terminated the pregnancy. But the thought that you might not have—that had lingered in his mind all these years.

You’d told him you were keeping the baby. He hadn’t asked, and you hadn’t offered any more than that.

And now, standing here, it hit him like a truck.

A girl.

She was his. Yours.

Their daughter.

You lifted your head then, your eyes meeting his. And Rafe saw the panic there, the shadow of old memories and old fears. For a moment, you froze. The child clung to your leg, oblivious, as you and Rafe just stared at each other. God, he had missed looking at you. Even from a distance, he had missed seeing your face.

But then you moved. Quickly. You grabbed the little girl’s hand and turned away, your other hand carrying the bag of groceries. You headed toward the exit without looking back.

Rafe stood there, rooted to the spot, as if chained in place. He wanted to call out, “Wait!” But the words stuck in his throat. He wanted to chase after you, but he didn’t know what he’d say if he did.

The way you had left made it clear you didn’t want to talk. And he had already hurt you enough. The last thing he wanted was to reopen old wounds.

And yet, he couldn’t stop staring after you, his heart in his throat. He’d need time to process this. To figure out what the hell he was supposed to do now.

He felt like he was drowning. All he could think about was getting out, finding air, calming himself. Memories crashing against him so vividly made it hard to breathe.

As he rushed out of the store, he tried to steady his breathing, but it didn’t help. His hands were trembling as he walked to his car.

It was as if he were drowning. He just needed to get out—out of this moment, out of this place—and catch his breath. The way his past had suddenly been thrust in his face made it hard to breathe.

He left the market in a rush, trying to control his deep, shaky breaths. His hands trembled as he walked toward his car.

---

Rafe, still struggling to process what had happened in the market, found himself standing outside Sarah's office. His knuckles were white from gripping the steering wheel too hard, a physical reflection of the chaos in his mind. He had seen Bella. A little girl... and now, everything was in disarray.

He didn’t think much—he couldn’t. He was looking for a safe harbor, someone to help him shoulder the weight of seeing you again after all these years. The missed chances, the regrets—they crushed him.

He had been young then, practically a fool kid. He was never sure if the decision he’d made was the right one.

So, without a second thought, he drove to Sarah. He knew he couldn’t go to Topper. Topper wouldn’t understand—he didn’t even know about the baby. And even if he did, he was too shallow to handle something this big. Kelce wouldn’t get it either; he’d just tell Rafe to let it go. That left Sarah as his only option.

Despite the fact that Sarah could be insufferably annoying sometimes, Rafe knew she would understand. Unlike him, she was good with emotions. She could empathize and offer sound advice. She was the only one who could talk him through this.

No matter how much she had changed, when it came to you, Rafe knew Sarah would hesitate to steer him wrong. This wasn’t some trivial matter—it was serious. It was about the woman he had once loved.

When Rafe knocked on Sarah’s door, he was a tangled mess of unease. He couldn’t get you out of his head. The way your hair had once been straight, now effortlessly wavy. The childlike look on your face had been replaced with a maturity that only made you more beautiful—almost impossibly so. You’d always been an angel in his eyes, but now? Now you seemed ethereal.

“Rafe? What’s wrong?” Sarah asked, her tone laced with worry. She was almost panicked at the sight of him. It had probably been months since her brother had shown up at her door. To see him looking so unhinged? That had been years.

“We need to talk,” Rafe said, his voice lacking its usual edge. It was almost shaky. He needed to calm down, and he needed Sarah’s clear-headedness to help him think straight.

Sarah hesitated but opened the door fully. “Of course, come in.”

Rafe walked into the living room but didn’t sit down. He shoved his hands into his pockets and paced around before facing Sarah. “I saw her today,” he blurted out. His hands, deep in his pockets, felt ice-cold despite the sweltering heat outside.

Sarah’s face froze. “Saw who?”

He steadied himself, finally saying your name. His gaze fixed on some point on the wall, far away. “She was in the market. She had a little kid with her,” he said, his voice almost a whisper. He didn’t know what to do. He ran a hand through his hair, pacing again like a trapped animal. He felt like he was losing it.

Sarah stayed quiet for a moment, a shadow of concern crossing her face. “And?” She was bracing for some sort of story—a confrontation, a drama, maybe even a fight. Watching Rafe’s agitated figure pace the room was dizzying. He needed to calm down.

“And…” Rafe shook his head slowly. “Nothing happened. Just… our eyes met. Her eyes…” He trailed off, haunted. “I couldn’t stop looking. But I told you, didn’t I? She said she called me because she was drunk. And I thought that she… that she got rid of her. I thought she—” His voice cracked. “I thought she did. I never knew for sure because we stopped talking, but I saw them today. Both of them.”

Sarah took a deep breath, trying to steady her tone. She didn’t want Rafe to catch on to her growing unease. “Rafe, I’m not sure bringing this up is a good idea.”

“I just keep thinking!” Rafe’s voice rose. “It’s not like I wanted this! She told me she was drunk—what was I supposed to think?! And now—now, after all these years, I see her, and I don’t know what to do.” He was trying to rein himself in, to pull back the storm brewing inside him. He wasn’t blaming you. He regretted the pressure he had put on you back then, hated himself for it. It had always been your choice. It always would be.

But he had spent years in limbo, stuck in a no-man’s-land between missing you and wondering what had become of you.

Sarah looked down, staying silent. But Rafe’s eyes stayed locked on her, probing. “You shouldn’t do anything, Rafe. Maybe she’s just visiting. After all, she and Liliana haven’t been here in years—”

Rafe froze. His entire body went still, and his head snapped toward Sarah. “What did you say?”

Sarah stammered, realizing too late what she’d let slip. Her lips parted in panic as she cursed herself inwardly. All she had to do was keep quiet—and she hadn’t.

“I—I mean, I just—”

“Liliana?” Rafe’s voice was ice-cold, his eyes narrowing dangerously. “Who’s Liliana?”

Rafe blinked, his mind whirring. Just moments ago, he had been pacing like a caged animal. Now, he stood stock-still, rigid as if he were a machine running out of power. The silence in the room was deafening. “Is that her name?” His voice grew sharper, angrier with Sarah’s continued silence. “How do you know her name?!”

Sarah stayed silent for a beat, her gaze dropping to the floor as she braced herself for the hell she knew was coming. Her lips opened and closed uselessly before she finally exhaled. She was screwed. “I—I mean, we—met a few times. In Asheville—”

Rafe stumbled back, almost losing his balance. He shook his head slowly. “You were meeting with her? While I was here, losing my mind, wondering if she was even alive?!” His voice cracked with fury, spiraling out of control. Sarah flinched at his rising volume, clasping her hands nervously in front of her.

“Rafe—” Sarah started, her voice defensive. She knew she had messed up, big time. Not only had she let it slip, but now, with Rafe losing it right in front of her, she had to keep herself from blurting out everything else. Because if Rafe knew this, he’d want to know the whole truth.

“She didn’t want our family involved,” Sarah explained cautiously. “And you—”

“Stop right there, Sarah! That should’ve been my choice!” Rafe roared, his voice shaking with emotion. “I didn’t want it, fine, I’ll admit that. But that doesn’t mean you had the right to take away my chance to know her. Or— or what she’s done! You’re my sister—my own blood. What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Sarah narrowed her eyes, fists clenched. It took everything in her not to hurl the closest vase at his head. “You already made your decision, Rafe! You chose to stay out of her life, to abandon her! So don’t you dare come at me now just because I didn’t fill you in on everything she’s been up to! If you cared so much, you’d have been there! Instead of partying while she was pregnant, maybe you could’ve been in the delivery room with her!”

“Oh, so I didn’t care?!” Rafe barked out a bitter laugh, his hands trembling. You had been the first person who made him believe in love, the first to show him kindness for no reason at all. The only person who made him want to be better. The only person he ever loved. “That’s your excuse? My mistakes? You think I don’t know I screwed up? Of course, I know! But since when did that give you the right to keep everything from me?”

Sarah shot to her feet, glaring daggers at him. “Oh, don’t even start with me! Since when did me being there for my niece and her mom turn into ‘keeping things from you’? Yes, I spent time with them. What was I supposed to do? Ignore them just because you didn’t want to be in the picture? Grow up, Rafe!”

“It was my choice!” Rafe yelled, his voice raw with frustration. His eyes burned with an intensity that matched his words. “But don’t you get it? I was falling apart! Every day without her—without them—was hell! And you saw it! You knew how much I loved her! You knew why I made that choice, why I did that!”

The argument had reached a boiling point. Sarah shook her head, finally stepping back, her voice quivering with quiet fury. “Oh, I remember your ‘choice,’ Rafe. The one you made to earn Dad’s approval by erasing her and the baby. That’s what we’re talking about, right? Own it for once!” Her voice dripped with venom, though her expression was eerily calm. She was done yelling.

At this point, she didn’t think there was anything left to defend. Rafe wasn’t the only one who had suffered. Sarah had been there. She had been there for you when you gave birth, and the father of your child wasn’t. Instead, JJ, Cleo, Pope, Kiara, John B, and Sarah herself had stood by your side. But Rafe? Nowhere to be found.

“At least when you got wasted, you had the luxury of waking up the next morning and moving on. She didn’t. Eight months after you walked out, she was leaking milk through her shirt while a baby screamed in the next room, and she was still recovering from giving birth. You left her alone, Rafe. So no, you don’t get to come in here and play the victim. I didn’t tell you, yeah. You’re damn right I didn’t.” Sarah crossed her arms, forcing herself to stay calm. Despite everything, he was still her brother.

“And you know what? I’m glad I didn’t. Because if you had even a shred of courage, you would’ve been there to find out yourself.”

Rafe froze for a moment, his chest heaving as he tried to contain himself. He took a long, shaky breath, but the anger in his eyes refused to fade. Finally, he shook his head, his jaw tight, and turned sharply toward the door. The slam echoed through the house, leaving Sarah standing there in silence.

Everything was a disaster. He hated it all—hated the situation, hated himself. But most of all, he hated that Sarah was right.

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thedevilsoftruth · 2 months ago

Note

Soo I have a request. Hehe. Specifically about Kyojuro 😍

Idea:

Tengen and Rengoku are sparring and rengoku is a little tense because of how his mission went last night. Tengen notices his frustration and stops the sparring session to see what his deal is. When Rengoku tells him he’s frustrated Tengen is understanding and he decides that theyre done sparring for the day. Tengen says hes on his way home to his wives but Rengoku says hes going to stay out for a little longer so he doesn't go home to y/n, angry. That's when Tengen gives him the idea to "take it out" on you.

Obviously Kyo thinks he meant hitting you to which Uzui quickly clears up when he rephrases and explains to release his frustrations sexually. Careful not to spare any details when telling Kyojuro of all the positions to put you in.

(Rengoku is pretty vanilla with sex so he doesnt do much other than missionary or eating you out)

So imagine your surprise, when he DOES get home, and after asking “do you trust me” he goes full throttle on you, his oblivious wife. I'm talkin backshots, full nelson, a mean locked in mating press, choking, spitting in her mouth, ass slapping and despite his rough manhandling his words are still so sweet. Like calling her his "perfect little flame" for taking him so well. 😍😍😍

and when they're done? shes so squirted and fucked out that she finally asks him why he was so angry and after all of that, he doesn't even remember. 🤣🤣🤣

HOLY FUXKITY FUCK NUGGETS WITH A SIDE OF BOOB SWEAT HOLY SWEET MOTHER OF KYOJURO YES QUEEN I AM ON THAT SHIT 🫡

Now I have not written any like actual HARD sex scenes since Marc Spector in like. March. But, I will try my best. I am sorry if it is not what you expected, some things you asked for I sadly did not incorporate into the fic because I wasn't comfortable with it. However, this is by far one of my LONGEST fics like. Ever. So please enjoy! ♥️

ᥫ᭡•-Wildfire-•ᥫ᭡

Rengoku Kyojuro x afab reader

Summary: After having a really bad mission that ruined Kyojuros mood completely, Kyojuro spars Tengen but it becomes very apparent to Tengen that Kyojuro is upset. Tengen tries to comfort Kyojuro, but the conversation steers off into a long discussion of Tengen explaining how Kyojuro can take his anger out on his wife sexually. So, Kyojuro goes home to you ( his wife ) and does exactly as his old friend suggested.

W/c - 7k

Warning: Lots of sexual humor, mentions of violence, Tengen and Kyojuros amazing friendship, mentions of Tengen being a lifestyle dom bc fuck you that's why, strong language, unprotected sex, vaginal penetration, rough sex, dom! Kyojuro, reader is kinda shy and VERY submissive, tabletop sex, crying during sex, hair pulling, multiple orgasms, orgasm denial, ass slapping, and Kyojuros filthy mouth. Not beta read!!!

[ Minors dni! I am not responsible for what you find on the internet! ]

Kyojuro Rengoku was a very patient man. A patient man that was never without a smile and was almost never angry. He was good with masking his anger and swallowing his issues. What's the point of holding onto negative emotions? If something bad happens to you, take it and move on with your life.

But he just could not seem to shake this cloud of pure frustration and sense of failure that was looming above his head. Why didn't he perform his best during his last mission? Why didn't he use the new techniques he needed to practice in his last fight? Why wasn't he training hard enough? Why wasn't he good enough?

His body was seething with anger. He was sweating badly from the stress he was feeling and his limbs felt as though they were on fire.

It was almost like an out of body experience. Like he wasn't even himself in that moment when he let out a blood curdling yell as he charged at his partner with his most powerful technique. His hands were gripping his blade so tightly that he was sure they would never be able to let out of it.

That was until the blade was flung across the field by a gloved hand.

" What's up with you, man? You trying to kill me? " Tengens familiar voice filled his ears, the tall man standing in front of him with an expression he had never given him.

Worry.

Kyojuro was suddenly pulled back into reality. His chest felt tight. The clothes on his body were starting to feel loose due to his fatigue. He looked around and took in his surroundings. The beautiful green trees rustling in the wind around him. The soft brown dirt below his feet. The tall man in front of him who he considered to be his best friend. But still, even through the whirlwind of intense emotions in his head, he was still able to put on his signature smile.

" I am sorry, lord Tengen. I suppose I got a bit carried away, didnt I? " Kyojuro said with a gentle laugh that filled Tengens ears. Tengen found himself staring at his best friend blankly.

" Oh you mean when you tired to cut my head off? " Tengen said bluntly.

What???

Kyojuros eyes went wide and he suddenly felt very embarrassed. He had never had a moment like that in sparring ever. He was usually on guard. He usually didn't let bad missions like that get to him, but today he was just constantly on edge, and that sparring round proved it.

" No more swords for today. " Tengen said, dropping his weapons and sitting on a soft patch of grass. " Come sit. Talk to me. " Was all he needed to say for Kyojuro to immediately go on a tangent.

Kyojuro was very open to people about how he felt about things. If he had an opinion, he would make the opinion known no matter what. He was a very emotional man who had a lot of empathy in his heart, so he tended to take things a bit harder than most people would. Kyojuro was a talker, and so was Tengen, but Tengen was able to lend a listening ear when it was needed.

" I suppose i was a bit overwhelmed. " Kyojuro started, picking at blades of grass beneath him. " My last mission didn't go too well. There were some techniques I wanted to try in battle that are new to me, but was too chicken to try them. " He explained to the man sitting next to him.

Tengen stared at him for a very long time. He blinked a few time, and then his face twisted into a look of pure and utter confusion.

" You're mad you didn't use those techniques?!! Did you forget that you are a literal demon slayer?? My man, you still have like. Five million other future missions where you can use those techniques in. " Tengen told his best friend in a loud voice, his hands making weird gestures as he spoke. Kyojuro chuckled.

" I know. I know. I guess I'm just mad that I didn't practice them enough. " He sighed. Tengen rolled his eyes and groaned.

" Come on, dude. Loosen up a little, won't ya? You still have all the time in the world to practice them. Plus, tomorrow Is a new day. You will have a better mission tomorrow. " Tengen provided the most comfort to Kyojuro that he could. He had his hand on his shoulder, rubbing it gently and smiling at him. And Kyojuro had to admit that he was feeling a bit better, but he was still tense. He smiled back at him, but Tengen could tell by the way his shoulders were tense that he was still mad.

" You sure you're gonna be alright? " Tengen asked him as he stood up and grabbed his water bottle. " I need to head back home to my wife's. I've spent a long time away from them already, and I'm sure they're worried sick for me. " Tengen chuckled, picking up his swords, the metal of the chain making a nice clanking sound against the steel of the swords. Kyojuro looked around thoughtfully, his hands gripping his pants in frustration.

" I think I'm going to stay here and continue to train. " He spoke with a heavy sigh, standing up and picking up his sword. Tengen was in the middle of seething his swords when he suddenly stopped at his words.

" Why? " He asked simply.

" Because I don't want to return to my wife angry. The last thing that I need is to make her worried because I am upset. " Kyojuro spoke with a strange expression on his face. Tengen couldn't read him. It was an odd night for him. Kyojuro had been acting not quite like himself the entire night, and it all started when after they shook hands before sparring. But still, Kyojuro was his friend, and he would do anything he could to give him comfort.

" Listen, you're not perfect, dude. Your woman has to see both sides of you to really understand who you are. " Tengen spoke, moving closer to Kyojuro. " I know you're a perfectionist and want your woman to think nothing but good of you, but trust me bro, flaws are a great thing. Especially in relationships because that is what helps them grow. "

He finished off with one more quote, " If she can't handle you at your worst, than she doesn't deserve you at your best. " A gentle pat was laid onto Kyojuros shoulders, and he felt like he was almost starting to understand his old friend. But he wasn't sure if he wanted to process it yet.

Tengen was getting ready to turn his heel and part ways with his friend before he remembered something. His face twisted with a devious grin that just told Kyojuro he was up to no good. Tengen clicked his tongue and pointed his index finger at him, lightly wiggling it in the process.

" You know, if you're still a little bit tense when you get home... Hehe... " He leaned in, his voice a whisper as he draped his arm over Kyojuros shoulder. Kyojuro didn't like the look on his face. He was definitely about to say something dirty.

" You know how I'm a lifestyle dom.. yada yada, whatever, nobody fucking cares, they've all heard it before--but there's this thing I do with my ladies, alright? How do I put this.. " He took a deep breath, his marron eyes scanning the floor as he searched for the right words. " Whenever Im having a hard day, I like to ' take it out ' on my beautiful wife's. " Tengen said casually, almost as if it was any normal conversation.

What??!!

Whatever Kyojuro was expecting to here from him, it was not that. He knew his best friend was into really hard sex, but he didn't think it would involve that sort of stuff! He stared at him with wide eyes, not blinking for several seconds.

" You hit your wife's?! " Kyojuro blurted out very loudly. Now it was Tengens turn for his eyes to go wide in shock.

" What the fu--no!! What kind of fuckin animal do you take me for?! No I don't hit my wife's!! Why the hell would you think that?! " Tengen demanded, shaking Kyojuros shoulders violently as he shouted at him.

" You said ' take it out!! ' What does that mean, lord Tengen! " Kyojuro asked loudly with curious eyes and an uncanny smile. Tengen took his hands off of Kyojuro and sighed, bamboozled by his friends lack of sexual knowledge.

" Well you have a wife. You guys have sex, right? " Tengen asked as if the question wasn't completely obvious.

" Yes, but it's not as uhm... Flamboyant as the kind you have. " Kyojuro told him, his wide smile never flattening. Excitement arose within Tengens body, and he clapped his hands together and grinned.

" My man!!! " He exclaimed. " Okay here are some pro tips coming from big daddy Tengen okay-- "

" I am not calling you big daddy Tengen. " Kyojuro blurted. Tengen blinked a few times.

" Okay...I didn't ask you to--what? And I'd hope not, dude, you're married-"

" Is that what you have your wife's call you, lord Tengen? It is Flamboyant indeed!! " Kyojuro said in an uncomfortably loud and enthusiastic voice. Tengen could not believe what he was hearing, and he pushed his best friend to the side in an act of pure disgust.

" What??! No--okay, we're getting off topic. Point is-- "

" So the key to having better sex with my wife is to have her call me big daddy Rengoku? "

The silence was so loud.

Tengen lowerd down into a squatting position and put his elbows on his knees and heald his face in his palms.

" Somebody shoot me. " He muttered, his voice dripping with pure misery. " There is no way I just heard you say that. "

Kyojuro was having a very good hearty laugh. Tengen was drowning in utter despair. Kyojuro patted his friends back very hard and laughed even more.

" I am only joking around with you, my friend! Head up. I will allow you to speak now. " He told him, patting his back once more in reassurance. Tengen slowly rose back up and sighed dramatically. Kyojuro stood in silence, waiting for his friend to speak.

" I don't know how I will recover from that, but I suppose I can offer you some words of free advice. Your starting point is telling her what you will do to her, ask her for her permission and then go all out. " Tengen started. " Women like it when you're gentle and loving with them, yes, but they also can find it enjoyable when her man is a bit more rough and crazy in bed. It's way flashier than normal, vanilla sex. "

Kyojuro looked at him weird.

" ...In my opinion. " Tengen added, awkwardly averting his gaze.

" But you, my man, have been having a rough day. So be a bit more rough with her in bed tonight. Spank her, bend her over something, pull her hair, bite her. Let her feel what you are feeling inside, and let me tell you, it will be the best sex of your life. " Tengen felt kind of excited to be sharing this with his friend. Sex was his passion, and being able to share it and his ideas with people made him the happiest man on earth.

Kyojuro felt his mouth going dry at the thought of it. All of the ideas flooded his mind, and he felt his heart racing uncontrollably.

" You said uh... Bending her over? I've never done that before. " Kyojuro repeated, a lump forming in his throat as he spoke. Tengen took a sip of his water and raised his brows.

" Is that what got your attention ? " He grinned. " Chicks dig that shit, man. There's so much more than the classic missionary. Find a countertop, table, foot of the bed--anything and then bend her over it and go at it. Would you like to hear of more positions you can use? "

" Yes. " Kyojuro responded immediately, wanting to know everything he can do to relieve the stress he was still feeling.

" Enthusiasm. That's what I love to hear!! " Tengen laughed before he continued. " Now, of course, you can also do it standing with her legs wrapped around your waist if you're confident. You can also have her bent over with her hands to the ground for a bit of support and deep penetration. There's the flatiron position, the sandwich position, yada yada. "

Kyojuro listened deeply, taking in each word as a mental note as the sound hashira spoke to him. He sure was in expert in this sort of stuff, he was kind of like an encyclopedia for all things related to sex.

" Those certainly are some interesting choices, lord Tengen. Now what is the flatiron? " Kyojuro asked curiously. Tengen smiled.

" Another position where you are behind her. You get on your knees behind her and she leans her face into the mattress and warps her arms around the backs of her knees. It's simple. " Tengen explained. Kyojuro nodded, gathering all the information he was given into his mind and coming up with a plan for exactly what he wanted to do.

" Of course, if you still want to have a missionary but make it more interesting, you can bend her knees back to her chest or hook her legs over your shoulders. Just a few options. " Tengen continued. He stood back up from his squatting position and dusted his pants. He felt around his pockets, and checked himself to make sure he left nothing behind before patting his thighs and giving Kyojuro a large smile.

" I'll be on my way now, my friend. I wish the best for you. " Tengen told Kyojuro, bringing his hand out in a fist for a fist bump. Kyojuro did the same and their knuckles joined together, Tengen making a fake explosion sound as he dramatically uncurled his fingers from a fist. Kyojuro laughed like he always did when they fist bumped after long meetings together like this.

" Till the next time we meet, lad. " Kyojuro nodded at his friend as he began to walk away. Tengen turned to face him and saluted him.

" Have fun! " Tengen yelled before he ran off, quickly disappearing into the distance.

------

The sun was starting to set. The walk back home was excruciatingly long, and the longer Kyojuro spent away from you, the more he began to get irritated. Why couldn't he just magically be with you in an instant? Why did he have to walk through town where it was loud and bright just to get you you? Why don't people ever pay attention to where they are walking? Why did everything have to be so damn irritating?

It was already pitch black outside when he got home. When he entered the house, he was about to shout your name like he usually did when he got home and announce his arrival, but he found you coming out of your bedroom as he closed the front sliding doors.

" You're home. " You remarked, walking up to him and wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him in for a kiss. He noticed you were in the red silky robe that you usually wore when you went to bed. He pulled away from the kiss to comment on it.

" Were you just in bed, my love? " He asked, his hands gliding up your sides and feeling the soft familiar fabric under his fingertips.

" Yeah I just woke up. I figured you would be back later so I wanted to cook you something. Are you hungry, should I still make you something-- " He cut your babbling off with a rough kiss, his hands moving to your jaw as he tilted his head and took your breath away with his kisses. You let out a surprised gasp at the contact, but you were not complaining.

" Why would I need you to make me something with I have my meal In front of me? " Your husband grinned wickedly, picking you up by your thighs and throwing his mouth back into yours, giving you absolutely zero time to react. You were so taken aback by the action, that you almost fell out of his arms from not wrapping your legs around his waist quick enough.

He didn't usually come home this way or say those kinds of things to you, so you were a bit shocked as you kissed him back. Of course he was a bit more forceful with it when he did it than you were, but that was because you were so shocked that it was like you had forgotten how to kiss him completely.

" Breathe. " Kyojuro said, setting you down on top of the kotatsu table in your dining room. You weren't used to this happening at all. You felt dizzy, especially having all of this happen just couple minutes after waking up.

" You okay? " He asked, his gentle calloused fingers reaching out to brush a few strands of your hair behind your ear. He gave you a smile, his golden eyes soft as he stared at you lovingly. You looked up at him with a curious expression, still trying to catch your breath from the previous intense kisses he had given you.

" Are you okay? What's all this about? " You asked him with a nervous chuckle and smile. He felt a pang of guilt stinging him by seeing how shocked and anxious you were. The last thing he wanted was for you to fear him. He hushed you with another kiss, his hands gripping your hips harshly. He had this look in his eyes that you had never seen him with. It felt dangerous.

When he pulled away, his hand turned your body around so that you were laying on your stomach on top of the table. You yelped in surprise, feeling your husband's strong hands on your ankles and pulling your legs off the kotatsu table, your knees pressing against the floor beneath you. Kyojuro was not a weak man. None of the hashira were. They could all take you out with one single smack to the face, so the amount of strength that Kyojuro put into moving you made you feel like you would definitely have bruises where he grabbed you.

" Kyojuro! What has gotten into you? " You demanded, looking at him from behind your shoulder. His hands suddenly released most of the pressure he was putting on you, almost as if he sensed your discomfort. Sensually and slowly, Kyojuros hands ran a long your sides and stomach, feeling anything he could touch. He moved your hair around your neck, exposing some more of your skin to his hungry gaze, allowing his lips to latch on your soft skin.

You were starting to ease into his arms, but you were confused by the position. His lips pecked the sweet spot of your neck slowly, his left lands slipping down to your thigh and his right hand coming up to cup your breast through your robe, causing a little moan to escape your lips. He gently parted your legs and eased your body back down onto the table. You looked at him with raised brows as one of his hands went to touch the knot of your robe.

" I had a tough day at work, so I'm a bit irritated right now. I also know you're nervous, but do you trust me? " His voice was low and quiet against your ear. His hands stilled in place, not moving until otherwise told. " I will not proceed without your consent. "

Your cheeks were a light shade of pink. You were curious to see what he was planning exactly.

" I trust you. "You responded. Kyojuro had a tinge of a smile on his face, and he nodded his head and carefully undid the belt of your robe. Strong hands ran down your arms, stripping them bare of the clothes that acted as a barrier between you both. The actions were so gentle despite the things that he had planned for you that you had thought this was just going to be another regular sex session.

But it was something far more than that. The only reason Kyojuro was even being gentle with you in the moment was because he wanted to at least show you some sweetness before he would absolutely destroy you.

He unbuckled his belt with one hand, the other one keeping him busy as he began to rub your already dripping cunt through your panties. He slipped two fingers beneath the red lace of your panties, his other hand slipping his pants and boxers down just enough for his dick to spring loose.

Kyojuros fingers felt through the silky, warmth of your wet folds. His other hand was pumping his pre-cum lubricated cock as he did this to you, looking at your form as your hips ever so slightly lifted off the table. Your lips parted, and a soft moan escaped your mouth as his fingers gently rubbed against your clit. His fingers rolled again the tiny bud in time with his other hand pumping his cock. But soon, he got tired of it, and he withdrew his fingers from you and hooked them onto your underwear and pulled them down to where they fell at your knees.

Your flesh was now completely exposed to him, your pussy already sensitive and oh so wet and welcoming for his hungry cock. His gently hands undid the clasps of your bra.

" Lift your arms. " He said. You did as told with no opposition. He rolled the straps of the bra down your arms and threw the garment off somewhere into the kitchen. You felt a familiar sense of adrenaline rushing through you, and you were excited but nervous.

" Am I not doing this on my back? " You asked him sweetly, looking over your shoulder where your gazes met. Your eyes were filled with innocence, and the thought of his sweet wife being so oblivious to the things he was going to do to her turned him on harder than anything else.

" Not tonight. Just relax. " He told you, rubbing his arms up and down your back. You took a deep breath and allowed him to do whatever he needed to because you trusted him. Kyojuro wrapped his hand around the shaft of his dick, bringing his cockhead up against your entrance before slowly inching his way inside you. The sensation stung a little as he worked his way past the tip, stretching you out almost painfully. Once he was in enough, he stopped for a moment to allow you to adjust to his size.

" Feel good? " He asked for reassurance. You looked at him and nodded. He grabbed your hips and pulled you closer to him. He set a slow and steady pace at first, grunting while he pushed his cock in and out of you. You had never had sex with him before in this position. It was all new to you but so incredibly exciting. And Kyojuro was enjoying it too, in fact, he may even have been enjoying it too much considering how he was mapping out in his mind the amounts of positions he was going to put you in.

" You know, " he trailed off, running a long finger up your spine and making your skin rise with goosebumps. " I can go on for hours if you'll let me. The only question is, can you keep up? " Even with him being behind you, you could just hear the smirk in his dark tone. You gulped hard at his words, your pussy fluttering against his cock as he slowly began to pick up the pace.

His hips rolled against yours, his cock dragging across your velvety walls and making your hips lift off the table once more. Your face scrunched up in pleasure, and your fingernails scratched the maple tabletop of the kotatsu table. You tried to lift yourself up by bracing your arms on the table, but Kyojuro was quick to splay his hand on your back and force you back down. You grunted, biting your lip in frustration as you fell onto the table. He grabbed your hips with both hands, his hips snapping against yours harshly and leaving you breathless.

" Not fair. " You whimpered, your eyebrows quirking up as you tried to find a comfortable way to lay your head.

" What's not fair? " He teased, knowing full well what you were referring to but wanting to hear you say it.

" You're... You pulled me back down. A-and going fast. " You answered, your legs shaking beneath him.

" I'm sorry, is this not your speed? Would you prefer me to be gentler? "

Kyojuros pace slowed and you whined at the lack of friction. Although, he did not intend for his words to come off as teasing, thats what you took it as and you were becoming very sexually frustrated.

" Why'd you.. ahh.. " you couldn't even finish your sentence from the amount of embarrassment you were in. Your face was bright red, your brows furrowed and your arms already feeling numb.

" See? Now you're a whimpering mess. " Each word was punctuated by a very harsh thrust that sent you screaming each time. You gripped the table beneath you, your face lifting off the table for a short while so you could moan and breathe.

" Is this what you want, sunshine? Huh? " He grunted in your ear, thrusting into you at a pace he rarely ever used. You were so shocked, so consumed by the pleasure that you couldn't even respond to him. Kyojuro twirled a thick bunch of your hair around his fist tightly and harshly pulled your head back so his mouth could meet your ear. You gasped at the pain, your shock only increasing.

" Where are those words, huh, sunflower? Just a moment ago you were all sassy. Is it that good? " He said in a sweet, almost even condescending voice. The emotions you were feeling were too much to handle. Who was this man? Had someone swapped out your loving husband for a more mean version of him?

Kyojuros hand raised and struck against your ass, the sound of the intense impact echoing off the walls. You bit your finger, a yelp escaping your lips from the smack. He had never once did that to you in your nearly 4 years of being his wife.

" Use your words, little flame. " He spoke, his tone genuine this time. Your lips parted, a string of saliva disconnecting your mouth from your finger as you pulled away from your hand. All you were able to get out was a shy whimper.

Kyojuro could sense your shyness and let out a dark chuckle that gave your pussy butterflies.

" Does my little flame like it rough now? " He purred straight into your ear, his lips pecking your neck. Your eyes became wide when one of his hands reached around you to mess with your clit. You felt like you were on fire, his cock ravaging you mercilessly and using your body. Your mouth was open in an ' o ' shape, endless moans and gasps leaving your mouth as pleasure engulfed your every essence like wildfire.

He was panting into your ear, grabbing your breast harshly as his cock slammed into you with brutal force. You bit your lip and your breath came out in short shudders. His fingers were circling around your clit sweetly, the duo sensation of his cock penetrating you and his fingers stimulating your clit making you shake. There was no doubt that you were about to cum.

And then Kyojuro got a sickeningly twisted idea.

He could sense your impending orgasm. Your walls were squeezing him as if he were a damn pencil, and you were becoming so incredibly wet. But he had other plans for you that night, plans that could prove just how mean he can be during sex. Of course, he always enjoyed giving you exactly what you wanted. He was a people pleaser, and he wanted you to be happy and satisfied even In the bedroom. But not tonight. Tonight, Kyojuro was a burning fire of rage, and he was going to show you just how angry he was.

He could tell how much you were enjoying it. How cock hungry you were becoming. So, before you could get that sweet release of an orgasm, he pulled out of you and withdrew his fingers from your clit, leaving you to feel empty. You looked at him with heavy lidded eyes, panting and confused.

" Why'd you pull out? I was almost there. " You whined, your cunt aching for his dick to stuff you and make you feel good again. Kyojuro gave you a sick grin that made your knees weak.

" Oh, don't worry about that, sunshine. You will get to come. Just not now. " He chirped, though there was an underlying of dominance and promise in his voice. And suddenly, like he had been doing all that night since he came back, he ambushed you by standing up and bringing you to your feet with him. He picked you up by your thighs, and you wrapped your legs around his waist as he began to take you into your bedroom.

" Lets get you in here where it's more comfortable. " He spoke, kissing your neck and laying you down on your shared bed gently. He stood between your legs and unbottoned the top of his uniform in front of you, his chiseled, well defined abs. You stared at him in awe, your pussy aching for him even more by the mere sight of him. His arms flexed as he pulled the shirt up and above his head. He kicked his pants and boxers off his ankles, his dick finally in full view for you. You stared with hungry eyes, desperately trying your hardest not to start touching yourself.

Your husband sat on the bed next to you and backed against the headboard. He pulled you into his lap and kissed you deeply for a moment, his fingertips lightly playing with your clit for a couple of seconds before he pulled away from your lips. He looked you up and down, taking in your body.

" Turn around. " He instructed, giving your hips a nice smack. You shakingly did as told, your body incredibly weak even though it had only been one round. Your knees were bent on either side of his thighs as you lowered yourself into his lap. You had your back to his chest, and he carefully guided your body back down onto his still-hard cock. You whimpered softly as he entered you once more, filling your needy cunt that was so incredibly desperate for you.

Kyojuros warm hand went to your back once more and forced your body into the mattress. You grunted as he slowly began thrusting upward and into you. The penetration was so incredibly deep, his cock hauling in and out of your cunt leisurely. He kept his hand on your back, careful not to let you move around that much as that was exactly where he wanted you. Your face was smushed against the red silky sheets on the fluffy mattress, your fingers digging into the sheets.

Kyojuro groaned softly, the warmth your soft pussy provided his cock making him nothing else but buck wild. He couldn't help himself. He wasn't even going to stop himself from pulling his cock all the way out if you before slamming it back into you and making you scream aloud, gripping the sheets for dear life.

" Feel good, sunshine? You like that? " You heard your husband purr from behind you. Your eyes were closed shut so tightly that you were sure they would never open again. Your mouth was hanging open widely and you were drooling all over the sheets, nothing but satisfied moans leaving your lips. He chuckled at your state and smacked your ass again, the harsh impact making you wake up more and yelp. He switched the positions a bit, shifting to his knees and bending over your back.

" I asked you a question. " He growled, his voice low and almost threatening. One arm wrapped around your stomach, but the other snaked around your throat and heald you in a chokehold. Your mind began to scramble frantically. Kyojuro was never his hard with you in bed. Like seriously, you could just feel his anger by the way he even spoke to you.

" Yes-yes. " You choked, tears pricking your eyes as he somehow found a way to fuck you harder. His arm loosened around your neck to allow you to breathe but still had enough force on you to restrict your movements." Feels so good. " You moaned, leaning your head back against his shoulder as you began to cry silently.

" Good girl. " He praised, his voice rumbling against your ear. He kissed the top of your head and let go of your stomach, rubbing your clit once more. The pleasure made you gasp and become limp in his arms.

" So, so, good for me. " Kyojuro cooed, finally letting go of your neck so he could attack it with greedy kisses. You whimpered as his fingers dragged up and down your throbbing clit, your pussy squeezing him for dear life as your orgasm was starting to build up again.

Kyojuro couldn't help but look down between your two joined bodies. The way how your perfect cunt took his dick so good and warmly was egging him on, making him want to fuck you even harder if that was even possible. It was like had had become a different person that night. The way how he took hold of a chunk of your hair from the scalp and pushed your face back down into the mattress just went to show how hard he could go.

" Come on, little flame. Show me how good it feels, yeah? Come all over me, baby. Make a mess. " He encouraged with a rather light ass smack. Your lips parted and your face contorted in pure focus as you let him take you just how he wanted. He could feel how close you were again. And this time, he was feeling generous.

" Kyo...kyojuro--ooo. " You tried to say his name in between broken moans. A sadistic smile spread across your husband's lips as he looked down at you. He reached his arm around you and played with your bottom lip. It was puffy and red, swollen from all the kissing from earlier. His thumb dragged over it before he brought his two middle fingers into your mouth, encouraging you to suck on them.

" You sound so pretty. So broken. " He purred, pulling his cock out completely before slamming if back in with such a force that sent your body shaking uncontrollably. Your eyes were filled deep into the back of your head and suddenly, you couldn't take it anymore. You bit down in your husband's fingers as you came hard onto his cock, squirting all over his lap, the hot liquid dripping down his cock and into the sheets beneath you.

" Look at that. " He laughed darkly, pulling his cock out of you so he could run his fingers over your slippery folds. You couldn't hold the position anymore, so you crawled out of his lap and collapsed onto the bed on your back. Kyojuro gave you a disappointed look.

" Where do you think you're going? "

Fuck.

You shut your thighs and backed up as far as you could away from him until you almost reached the edge of the bed. Your husband pouted at you, looking you up and down and clicking his tongue.

" When did I say I was done with you? We barley even made it to dessert. " He joked in a sickeningly sadistic way as he grabbed you by your ankles and pulled you back underneath him. You gulped hard, a cold tear running down your flushed cheeks. He lovingly took your face in his hands and wiped your tears away with his thumbs.

Kyojuro leaned in to kiss you, his mouth moving against yours in harsh open-mouthed kisses as he picked your legs up by the backs of your knees.

"Are you okay? Do we need to stop? " He asked you, his expression completely and utterly serious. You were having a hard time catching your breath. You had felt light headed and your body was shaking. But even through the pain, you knew you could find pleasure. It also gave you some satisfaction knowing that your husband was feeling better doing this to you, so you nodded your head and smiled at him.

" I'm fine. Do what you need to do. " You said , opening your legs a bit further. Kyojuros lips curled into a wicked smile, and he positioned himself back between your legs, grabbing your knees and pinning them to your chest.

You felt the familiar feeling of his cock slowly being pushed into you once more. The feeling sent you whimpering and squirming around him. Overstimulation wasn't something you were used to. Nothing he was doing to you was anything like you were used to.

And the same thing could be said for Kyojuro. He wasn't used to going that hard, but he would be lying if he said he wasn't having the time of his life. His mind with flooded with lust as he immediately went to fucking you hard like before, not giving you anytime to relax. He just couldn't help himself. His mind was reeling, his body glistening with sweat as he pounded into you as if his entire life depended on it.

" Fuck, " he groaned, his head falling back in pleasure as he fucked you exactly how he needed to. The air around you was thick and warm, the room filled with the heavy pants and moans coming from the both of you. Your pussy was so incredibly sensitive after everything, and he just kept going. Your toes curled in the air, your hips lifting off the bed slightly as he increased his pace.

You let out soft squeaks as Kyojuro lifted your legs up and over his broad shoulders, allowing him to penetrate you deeper. He was putting you in positions he'd never put you in before. It was heaven on earth. The loud squelching noises coming from your incredibly wet cunt filled Kyojuros ears like sweet music. Not only that but the smell of your sex was intoxicating.

" Fuck, little flame.. " He moaned, kissing the parts of your legs that he could reach comfortably as he thrust into you at a steady, hard pace. " My perfect little flame. Taking me so well. " He praised, his sweet words sending butterflies to your pussy. Your face became hot, the sudden sweetness of your husbands words making thing seem oddly intimate after he practically fucked your brains out.

And, he just kept going. Fucking you slowly and hard, his strong hands gripping your thighs and his cock kissing every inch of your pussy. His sweet voice was telling you sweet nothings as he pushed his cock in and out of you with deep thrusts. He shifted his hips a bit, allowing him deeper access to your cunt until it hit that special part of you. You moaned loudly and threw your head back in ecstasy.

He lowered a hand between your thighs, and slowly began rubbing your clit while his hips began to pick up the pace. You let out a gasp and a deep moan, your hips jerking against his and your thighs shaking on his shoulders.

" Aww. Sensitive, are we? " Rengoku teased, his voice deep and rumbling in his chest. You nodded weakly, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as his fingers stroked your clit gently. His sweet words and actions were causing you to suddenly feel embarrassed. Especially because the position was so intimate and face-to-face.

Your face became red and you found yourself turning your head to face the wall instead of your ravenous husband. You brought your fingers up to your lips, suddenly aware of how loud you were being. Of course, it didn't take Kyojuro long at all to catch onto what you were doing.

" Dont be shy, sunflower. " He told you, grabbing your wrist and pinning it to the bed. You slowly looked back at him, too fucked out of your mind to respond in any way. Kyojuro leaned forward, your knees briefly pressing against your chest as he kissed you sweetly. " You know how important being able to hear your moans is to me. "

You let your mouth fall open a bit, your eyebrows twitching up and your eyes squinting as his cock seemed to be slamming into you harder. The hand around your wrists was holding you down so hard that it almost hurt.

" So scream for me baby. " Kyojuro purred, taking your breath away and making you gasp as he violently thrashed into you. You screamed at the contact, your hands vigorously scrambling for the red sheets beneath you as your husband ceased to surprise you. He let go of your wrist and used that hand to fondle your clit once more. How he was able to keep up like this after training so hard all day and the previous rounds he had gone on you was beyond you.

Your abdomen was starting to burn with another orgasm starting to build up within you. Kyojuro was feeling the same thing. He put down your legs to help you feel more comfortable, and you wrapped them around his waist, welcoming him in even deeper into you. He was panting, and he grabbed a fistful of your hair and pulled your head back, giving him access to your neck.

He sucked in the nape of your neck, his other hand rubbing tight circles around your oversensitive clit and his cock jamming against your g-spot. All of it was perfect. There wasn't any other way to put it, it was simply heaven.

" Kyo-Kyo-oo-juro. " You moaned shakingly, your legs clenching around his waist. He couldn't sense your orgasm building up again, and so he thrusted into you harder. You moaned with every thrust, and he growled in your ear.

" Louder. " He snarled against your ear, smacking your ass hard. You whimpered and weakly moved your mouth to his good ear. You moaned directly into it, your fingernails clawing at his back. He didn't seem to flinch at the contact, in fact, it only egged him on further. He kissed your neck sweetly before he bit down on it, inflicting a loud grunt out of you in the process.

" Kyojuro! " You yelled this time, bucking your hips towards his and arching your back off the bed while you clung onto him. You could feel his lips curling up into a smirk against your neck while he kissed you.

" Good girl. " He huffed, rising his body up and holding onto the headboard with one hand as he pounded into you. The headboard slammed against the wall, the bed creaking under your bodies as he fucked you in an almost animalistic way. The primal look in his eyes as he gritted his teeth and fucked you hard was something you had never expected to see in him.

It made your pussy ache just seeing him like he was in that moment. He still had one of his hands in-between your thighs, continuing to rub you clit. You scratched his forearm and squeaked loudly as he persisted to give you exactly what you needed. He was panting heavily, and he looked at you with heavy lidded eyes, his firey blond and red hair sticking to his sweaty face.

" Little flame, I am going to come soon. Where can I? " He asked, his voice husky but very hoarse, his fatigue finally starting to show after going on for so long. You curled your fist into the sheesh under you and looked back at him with an expression that mirrored his own.

" I-inside. " You muttered, your voice so quiet that his half-deaf ears didn't even pick up on it. The only way he even knew what you said was because he read your lips: a skill he had become a master of ever since he damaged his ear drums in battle.

Kyojuro flew his head back, his thrusts starting to slow down and become sloppy as his orgasm started to become more apparent. He braced his arms at either side of your head and stole your lips in another heated kiss. His hips shook, and hot ropes of his long-awaited orgasm finally spilling into your warm core. He buried himself to the hilt and sat still for a moment as he came inside you.

Your orgasm followed shortly behind his after he pulled out, keeping you busy and warm by fingering you and stimulating your sensitive clit. The hot liquid of your cum dropped down his fingers, and that was the moment when the both of you had decided that you were satisfied. His withdrew his fingers from your warmth and collapsed onto the bed next to you.

For several minutes, it was just the both of you trying to cool off without moving too much and laying next to each other, the room filled with your joined panting. You usually didn't immediately go to cuddling after sex because Kyojuros body had the tendancy to ' overheat ' like a battery and it took him a very long time to cool down. He turned to look at you, reaching his warm hand out to brush some loose strands of hair out of your face.

" How are you feeling? " He asked you, looking at you with a smile. You smiled back and intertwined your fingers with his.

" Good. Are you feeling better? You said earlier you were upset. " You recalled, getting butterflies as you remembered the way he bent you over the kotatsu table. He looked at you blankly like he usually did when he didn't hear what you said.

Kyojuro did not pick up on that last part of the sentence.

" Come again? " He leaned his good ear closer to your mouth, inviting you to repeat what you said.

" You said you were upset earlier. " You said, louder this time. " What were you upset about? "

Kyojuro chuckled and moved back to where he was before, propping himself up on his elbow.

" Who knows? I can't even remember. "

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