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#this made me miss nightclubs :(
purple-babygirl · 4 months
Text
yours to hurt, yours to love
Pairing: (dom)!Bucky Barnes x (sub)!f!reader
Word count: 8,050
Summary: They had a deal. She would surrender her control; he would take it. Love had no place in such a relationship, did it?
Warnings: 18+ Content: friends with benefits, blowjobs, lots of cum, cum eating, cum in pussy, unprotected vaginal intercourse (don't do that), mentions of cheating, angst, crying, dom x sub dynamics including a sir kink and the use of puppy as a petname, BDSM features including begging, following orders/instructions, mentions of ropes, being tied/suspended, mentions of edging and overstimulation and the use of toys, ass whipping with a belt, mention and use of a safeword, chocking, two insecure idiots being in love, metal arm kink, fingering, rubbing of cock on pussy, multiple orgasms, aftercare. Let me know if I missed anything.
A/N: this is a self-indulgent fic I wrote simply because I wanted to read and now it's finally done so I'm sharing it with you, babies:"💜💜 I just started at a new job and it's very tiring and energy and time consuming so I thought I'd post something before I get swept up in the real world of numbers and targets and not being broke. I really hope you like this one and I love you all with every bit of me💜
~
As most one-night stands start, they had met at a bar.
She was sitting all alone with her palm hugging a beer bottle, her face carrying the saddest look. She had turned down every guy that had tried to approach her that evening.
Bucky had been watching her all night, lost in deep thought as she barely raised the warming bottle to her lips, the melancholic look marring her features never leaving.
She had only smiled once that night, and it was for Bucky.
She was snapped out of thought when a louder song abruptly came on, startling her back to reality and that was when she saw him.
The most handsome man she had ever laid eyes on had his eyes on her from the other side of the crowded nightclub, and she found herself smiling at him.
He quickly turned his gaze away, suddenly shy that he was staring.
She wanted to ignore the man, telling herself she had a lot on her plate already, that it would likely be a mistake to go talk to him; that she needed to keep her distance from men for a while at least. But she couldn’t. She couldn’t ignore him.
Even with his back to her, his presence was too strong to simply be ignored.
So she disregarded her minds’ screams and went to talk to him.
Bucky almost chocked on his drink when he saw that it was her who had approached him, but he managed to compose himself.
“Were you ever planning on talking to me?” She teased with a smile as she sat down next to him at the bar.
And just like that, they were talking.
They talked about anything and everything, the deepest things as well as the silliest.
She was so easy to be around and she actually made the man laugh.
She had no idea, but Bucky didn’t think he had even cracked a smile in weeks.
Before she could decide what was right and what wasn’t, she had her lips on his, and before he could overthink it, Bucky was taking her back to his place.
It has been a long time since the man had had the chance to like someone, and he liked her even more when she didn’t make him feel bad about himself that night.
The metal arm didn’t faze her.
She didn’t ask intrusive questions or even let her gaze linger. She treated it just like his other arm, wrapping both around her back as she straddled Bucky on his couch, making out with him like she has been waiting for him her whole life.
But that wasn’t the only reason Bucky appreciated her so much that night.
She had gotten on her knees for him, both of them fully naked at that point, her boobs swaying lightly as her hand pumped his hard cock, lubing him up with his pre-cum.
Her hands were magic and he didn’t want to tell her that he was too close to exploding just from her soft hand palming his tip.
She had barely gotten Bucky in her mouth when he had started cumming all over her.
The sight of his fists clutching the couch, mouth open as groans left his chest while copious amounts of cum covered her mouth, chin, neck and boobs had her wetness dripping down her bare thighs.
When he was back on earth again and his vision was no longer black, Bucky started apologizing profusely when he realized what had happened.
He had come way too fast. All over her. Without her getting to finish even once. He didn’t even get to touch her down there.
Bucky thought she was definitely going to leave.
“It’s okay,” she said with a kind smile as her clean hand caressed up and down one of his thighs, “I don’t mind.”
And before Bucky could explain that it has been a long time for him, she was collecting his cum off her skin with her fingers and slipping them into her mouth, maintaining eye contact with the man and almost giving his old heart an attack.
Bucky stared with parted lips, cock already hardening again, as she shut her eyes and moaned over the taste of him.
She had managed to eat every bit of cum that had gotten on her face and neck before Bucky unfroze and lost it.
He grabbed his shirt and hastily wiped her chest clean of his cum before eagerly carrying her to his bed.
He thought her surprised giggle as she called him a “caveman” had to be the sweetest sound he had ever heard until he pushed his cock in her and her wail of his name echoed throughout the quiet bedroom.
Bucky was hooked on the sight of her, the taste of her, the smell of her, and the feel of her.
Her walls were hugging his cock so tight that he thought he wouldn’t be able to get the rest of it inside. Her hands were scratching at his back as she tried to adjust to his size with a silent scream on her face.
“Relax,” Bucky had told her softly.
It was a simple word, but it was the most exhilarating thing when she had immediately listened, her pussy muscles relaxing for him at once, thighs spreading wider to accommodate him better.
Bucky was amazed by her ability to listen to instructions; it awakened an unmatched feeling inside of him.
Once he was buried to the hilt inside of her, Bucky wanted to see what else he could make her do; how much she might obey, so he stayed still.
“I’m ready, you can move.” She had nodded to him, thinking he was waiting on her.
But that wasn’t why Bucky wasn’t moving. He knew she was ready, her juices were ruining his sheets for heaven’s sake.
“I mean, if you ask nicely enough…”
He was just giving it a try, and if she didn’t go along with it he would still give her what she wanted—
“Please,” she begged, eyes pleading as she wiggled her hips, “please fuck me, Bucky.”
Fuck.
Bucky couldn’t think much after that, his body moving of its own volition as he pulled out and slammed back inside her pussy.
It was one thrust. One single thrust had her arching her back and shouting out his name.
He completely broke down, fucking her with abandon, just wanting to hear more of her; feel deeper inside of her.
The bedpost slammed against the wall repeatedly as she screamed with every hit of Bucky’s cock to her g-spot.
The way she was scratching his back, whining, wailing and writhing under him as he pounded her into his bed should’ve and could’ve been enough for Bucky, but he couldn’t help but want more.
“Open your eyes,” he gave her another command, knowing it might be hard for her to manage that one with how deep he was giving it to her.
But her eyes were instantly on him, fighting to stay open as his fat cock filled her up again and again.
“Keep looking at me,” Bucky had told her, his right hand coming up to wrap around her neck.
He was slow and gentle, just waiting for her to stop him or refuse what he was doing.
But she had managed to surprise him again because instead, her hand had come up to his, fully wrapping his palm around her throat before showing Bucky the right amount of pressure to apply.
Fuck, she had to be an angel sent specifically to him from heaven. It seemed like whatever god was up there had finally had mercy on him.
She wasn’t only okay with Bucky’s hand being on her neck, she was showing him how to choke her as his cock fucked her raw within an inch of her life too.
Bucky felt his thrusts stutter as he almost came at the sight of her: mouth open with nothing but his name coming out of it, throat held in his palm and eyes battling to stay open as they rolled back in her head, her pussy chocking his cock.
And when he thought she couldn’t get anymore perfect, she started screaming out a request, “can I please cum? Please, Bucky!”
She was asking his permission to let herself feel the pleasure he was so willingly giving her.
Bucky felt high as he groaned, “cum”, and watched her hand hastily come down to rub her clit once, twice before she fell apart around his cock.
Her thighs involuntarily clasped around Bucky as they shook with the rest of her body, her orgasm hitting her like a thousand trains, making her back bow.
Bucky’s hand tightened around her throat the slightest bit as he felt her pussy shutter around his cock and felt himself get closer to his own release, thrusts becoming erratic.
“Please cum inside me, Bucky. Fill me up with your cum, need it,” she pled and the man could only take so much.
Bucky came and he came hard, proving the cum he had painted her body with earlier to be just a sample of what his cock really had to offer.
When they could both breathe normally again, she found herself in his arms, pitching him an idea, too satisfied and full of cum to stop herself and rethink.
And to her happiness, Bucky actually agreed.
~
When they first started that type of deal, she said she didn’t want a relationship.
Bucky respected that and he was okay with it because although he liked her very much, he knew he wasn’t the relationship type himself. He didn’t believe himself fit for romantic relationships. He thought he was too messed up for such stuff.
And she was just like him.
She didn’t know how to be loved; didn’t know how to receive love. She didn’t think she deserved it. She didn’t think she was worth it. Never thought of herself as beautiful enough or attractive enough or lovable enough.
So the dynamic they came up with was their best option.
They were going to be friends with benefits. Except, the benefits were much more extreme than the usual, vanilla sex that would come to mind. So friends with benefits with a fun twist.
After being manipulated for so long, Bucky wanted nothing but to be in charge of his life, body and mind; to be in a position of power where he had the upper hand.
She, on the other hand, needed her freewill to be taken away from her. Being as responsible as she was in her everyday life, she would get too exhausted; drained. She wanted decisions to be made for her as she only obeyed and conformed. She wanted to be used until her head held no thoughts of her deadlines or tasks.
She wanted choking and spanking and bondage. She wanted domination.
Bucky needed to feel in control, and she needed to give up control.
Take mine, she said, take my control away and make it yours.
It was a perfect match. They had clearly communicated their boundaries, wants and needs. They had established their roles, likes and dislikes. And they had agreed on a few simple rules:
It was strictly sex; only sex.
No kissing on the lips no matter what.
No cuddling afterwards even if aftercare took place.
No strings attached.
The safe word meant they stopped; no questions asked.
Bucky wasn’t exactly on board with number 2 because he knew what her lips felt like on his and he wanted more of that. But she said it would only complicate things; that it might get feelings involved and they couldn’t have that.
So he agreed. He really just wanted her to be as comfortable as possible.
And they had almost done it all in 6 months. She had let Bucky tie her down, spank her, choke her, use toys on her, edge her, overstimulate her, fuck her in every position known to humans and on every service that could take their weight and Bucky’s pace.
But deep down, Bucky knew that she still needed more even if she had claimed otherwise.
He knew that she was frequently going on dates in between their sessions, desperately searching for the one that would manage to sweep her off her feet and magically change the way she looked at herself with his unconditional love.
So when she sat with him that one day and told him she wanted to stop what they were doing because she wanted to commit to her new boyfriend, Bucky wasn’t surprised. He was heartbroken, but not surprised.
And so he let her go.
He didn’t want to. He never wanted to. But Bucky knew that he couldn’t give her what she wanted, and so he was going to let her have it with someone else. He needed her like the air he breathed, but he couldn’t bring himself to stand in her way.
Bucky was addicted to her, yes, but he wasn’t going to be selfish and get in the way of her possible happiness with that new boyfriend whoever he was. He just hoped that that new man deserved her.
~
The real surprise came when Bucky opened his door one day and she was standing there looking like an abandoned puppy three months after their last meeting.
Three months without her that have been torture. Three months during which Bucky couldn’t bear the mere idea of bringing another woman to his bed. Three months of replaying their intense scenes in his head with his hand down his pants.
Oh how he missed seeing her choke on his cock. He missed her begging for him to touch her, to relieve her heavy shoulders of everything they had to carry. He missed seeing her come for him so hard that tears would start rolling down her face.
But now she was here, and she didn’t look okay. And it made Bucky realize that he has mostly missed her being her.
“I need you, Buck,” she whispered and he instantly opened the door wider for her.
Bucky let her inside and she climbed on his lap the second he sat down. He held her in his arms on his couch for as long as she needed, internally aching to know what had gotten her looking so dejected.
He knew it had to do with the new man in her life and he could only calm himself down by imagining his fist slamming against the faceless man’s nose.
“What did he do?” Bucky finally broke the silence, making her pull her face from his neck and look at him.
God, she looked so hurt, so broken.
He wished he could fix it, but how could he when he himself needed fixing?
“If I ask you for a favor, would you do it for me?” Her faint voice asked instead, pulling away from their hug.
“You know I will,” Bucky replied without reluctance.
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
He would do anything for her. He would kill again for her, burn down whole cities and cross oceans on his bare feet for her if she asked him to.
She got up from Bucky’s lap, getting down on her knees before the couch just like the first night he had brought her home, “I want you to punish me, Bucky.”
“What?”
Where did that come from? She wanted to start a session? Now? In that state?
“I want you to spank me. Punish me.” She repeated calmly.
“Doll, you didn’t do anything wrong,” Bucky tried to remind her, wanting her to know that whatever that man did to ruin his relationship with her wasn’t her fault.
And he wasn’t seriously about to give her a spanking when she looked like that, so small and worn out and wounded.
“Please, Bucky.”
Damn, she begged so sweetly. But he just couldn’t.
Bucky never thought he would say no to a scene with her, especially a passionate one, but he couldn’t hurt her even more than she looked to be hurting.
That was not what they did this for.
“Doll, get up. Sit down and talk to me,” Bucky said softly, trying to lift her up by the shoulders.
“Buck, you said you’d do it.” A sad frown settled upon her delicate face with a look that Bucky knew well.
She was getting more heartbroken at his rejection. She really did want this. She needed it and she could only come to Bucky for it. How could he keep turning her down?
“Okay, doll. How many?” Bucky asked despite himself, rubbing his palms together.
“Not with your hands,” she said with a smile, getting up and walking inside the bedroom to his closet.
Bucky carded a hand through his long hair as he waited for her to come back with whatever item she was choosing, knowing this was going to be the hardest time he has ever had to cause her pain, even if it was pain she wanted and asked for.
“With this.” She left the belt she brought on Bucky’s lap as she got back to her place by his feet.
“Doll, this is the thickest belt I own,” Bucky told her, wanting to intimidate her into changing her mind.
He needed her to change her mind. He couldn’t hit her with that thing. Not today. Probably not ever.
“I know.” She nodded with the same sure smile.
“Doll, why?” Bucky touched her cheek tenderly, desperate to understand.
If she would just talk to him, he would do his best to fix it. He probably couldn’t, but he was ready to try.
“Please, Bucky. For me, I need this.” She, again, avoided answering his questions.
“This is gonna hurt, doll,” Bucky warned, examining the belt in his lap.
Damn, it was heavy.
“I know. That’s the point.” She nodded in acceptance, “I need it to hurt.”
“Doll.”
“C’mon, Buck, we’ve done this before. You’ve had me dangling from your ceiling for god’s sake!”
He remembered that day. It was a week after she had gotten promoted and everything was becoming too much for her.
She had Bucky suspend her upside down from his ceiling as he spanked her rear raw before getting her down and fucking her into oblivion until all she could worry about was if she would be able to take another orgasm.
She looked even sadder today, and she was asking for far less.
Maybe he could give her what she wanted.
“How many?” Bucky asked again with a clenched jaw, seeing that there was no way he was going to change her mind.
“As many as it takes for me to cry,” she replied and her answer sent a pang into Bucky’s chest.
So that was it. She needed to cry and she couldn’t. She just needed to cry; to give release to her pent-up tears.
Bucky knew that crying was something that she struggled with. He knew that one of the things she loved about what they did was the fact that she could cry during it all; during a spanking, an edging or even an intense orgasm.
But couldn’t it be done any other way this time? Maybe he could make her watch a sad movie or something?
“Doll, if it’s about you crying—”
“Bucky, please,” she stopped him, shaking her head with determination, “please give me this. I need it.”
If she could, she would have cried to get him to say yes faster.
Bucky sighed, glancing at her one final time before asking, “do you remember your safe word?”
“Red.” She smiled gratefully, adrenaline already pumping through her blood in anticipation.
Bucky slipped the hairband on his wrist down to his fingers, pulling his hair in a low bun before taking his shirt off, leaving himself in his white tank top.
Keeping his eyes on hers, he ordered: “strip and get on the bed, puppy. You know your position.”
“Thank you, Bucky.” She jumped up, placing a kiss on his cheek.
“What was that?” Bucky’s tone was deeper and his eyes darker.
It has started.
“Thank you, sir,” she quickly corrected herself.
“Go.”
One nod of his head and she was running to the bedroom to do as she was told.
As she took her clothes off, folding them piece by piece and leaving them on the chair in the corner of Bucky’s bedroom, he was outside readying himself for what he was about to do to her.
Bucky had pledged months ago that he would give her anything she needed or wanted during their sessions.
Leaving her fulfilled made him feel fulfilled and the first time he had his bare cock in her, Bucky knew he was wrapped around her littlest finger. It seemed like he was the one in control of those meet ups but control was actually always in her hands.
Now, if what she needed was a spanking to make her cry, Bucky knew how to give it to her, but he didn’t want to. He knew this belt was going to hurt a lot and he wished she would’ve chosen something less bad.
But a deal was a deal and he couldn’t back out now that he knew she was waiting naked on his bed.
She heard Bucky’s heavy steps coming closer and tried to regulate her breathing, reminding herself that she wanted this, that she begged for this, that she deserved this.
She trusted Bucky with her life, not just her body. She knew he was going to stop the minute she said her safe word and that made her a little calmer.
“You ready, puppy?” Bucky asked, gliding the tip of the belt across her bare ass from one cheek to the other.
She shivered, fixing her gaze on Bucky’s bedpost as she whispered, “yes, sir.”
And just like that came the first spank.
But it didn’t hurt, not like she had expected, not at all.
Bucky was going easy on her; too easy.
She didn’t like it.
“Harder, please,” she begged, lowering her head and sticking her ass out.
“Doll—”
“Bucky, please, you promised,” she pled, her voice thick with frustration at her inability to get what she needed from the one person who could give it to her.
Another spank came, a little stronger than the first, but still not enough.
“Did your arm get rusty in those three months?” She threw angrily, raising her eyes to glare at Bucky, “hit me like a man!”
Bucky knew she was just trying to rile him up, make him angry enough so that he would actually hurt her and even though he didn’t want to, he decided he would finally give her what she came for.
“Fine,” Bucky growled, pushing her face into his pillows by the hair and she immediately gave him a full view of her lower half, ass in the air and thighs spread.
He wasn’t going to be able to look at her face as he hurt her this time.
Bucky took a deep breath before finally giving her a real whip and she gasped at the force of it, “is that what you wanted, puppy?”
“Getting close,” she moaned, her words muffled into the pillows as she wiggled her ass for him.
Another similar spank hit her and then another and another until suddenly her body was getting hotter and her butt sorer.
She needed more. Just a little more to break the dam and get suffocating thoughts and burning tears out.
“More, please, sir,” she begged, voice so desperate that it had Bucky swallowing.
He gave an experimental whip on her thighs and she let out a startled scream.
“What’s your color?” Bucky asked at once, hesitant that he might have actually hurt her.
“Green.” Came her reply as she looked up to Bucky, “green, sir, please.”
She was begging for more of this.
Bucky recomposed himself and spanked her thighs with the belt again and she wailed out a “yes, thank you, sir!”, urging him on.
For the first time ever, however, Bucky was not enjoying this. He was not enjoying causing her pain and he was not enjoying knowing that he was supposed to make her cry by the end of it all.
His whips got faster and harder as his thoughts ran wild with worry, just wanting to get this over with as her moans and cries egged him on.
“Color?”
“Green!” She would answer every time he checked in with her.
Pictures of her boyfriend in bed with another woman flashed throw her mind and she stuck her ass out more, hiding her ashamed face in Bucky’s pillows. He let her touch him the way only she was supposed to touch him. He made her shout out in pleasure the way she never did with him. He made her scream his name; the name that was supposed to only roll off her tongue during intimate times.
Her mind kept replaying it all, making her squirm and stick her butt out further. She wanted it all to stop.
She needed this. She deserved this. She was stupid.
“Thank you, sir,” she muttered, a lump finally forming in her throat.
It seemed like whatever had happened this time, had been so bad that the normal amount of whips weren’t enough to get her mind off of it. She was still her, well out of sub space and still very much aware of the ache in her heart.
She needed that ache to move somewhere else, preferably to her ass.
“More, sir, please.”
Bucky’s shoulder started to slightly ache as he kept whipping her, again and again, just wanting it to be over so he could comfort her after as he heard her sniffles, and finally, with a particularly harsh spank on her lower thighs she screamed out, “red!”.
Bucky’s arm stopped immediately, dropping the belt on the floor as he listened as her soft cries get louder.
She burrowed her face in his pillow and let it all out, sobs wracking her entire body as she cried her bleeding heart out.
“Doll,” he whispered, regret filling him at the sight of her body trembling with each wail she let out of her chest.
He looked at her lower body and her ass and thighs were a crime scene, her skin painted in angry red welts all over.
“Please, leave me alone, Buck,” she wept, her face still hidden in his pillow.
“Let me take care of you, doll—”
“No, no. Just leave me,” she pleaded without turning to him.
“At least let me put something on your skin—”
“Please just leave me alone. Please, Bucky,” she sobbed harder, her fingers clutching the side of the pillow as she let her tears flow.
Bucky reluctantly left the room, giving her the space she asked for as guilt ate away at his heart.
He shouldn’t have listened to her. He shouldn’t have done that to her.
It was only when he sat down on the couch outside that he had realized how hard he had actually whipped her. His right shoulder ached, a few strands of his hair were out of place and sweat had forced by his hairline. All the realization did was make him feel more terrible about himself.
He knew he has done it before so many times, but this time was different.
She came to him hurt emotionally and instead of helping her feel better, he ended up hurting her physically too.
She did ask for it, but he could have said no. He could’ve insisted on not doing it.
The sound of her cries seemed never-ending and was absolutely heart-wrenching to listen to. Bucky could all but cover his ears to prevent it from reaching him as he beat himself up for causing it all again and again.
She winced as she sat up on the messy bed, hand on her naked chest as she tried to calm herself down, still hiccupping while her cries slowed down.
God, she had needed this so bad. She had needed it for days and she was so grateful for Bucky for giving it to her.
Being able to cry and let everything out was a blessing that people didn’t appreciate enough; one she was kind of deprived of and had to do a lot to get to enjoy.
When her heartbeat was somewhat slower and her tears have ceased, she slowly pulled herself down the bed and on her wobbly feet.
She looked out to the living room from the bedroom door to see Bucky back on the couch, leaning forward with his head in his hands and she knew he was blaming himself.
So she wiped her tears as much as she could and went back inside. She opened the drawer she knew too well and pulled out the Calendula cream Bucky had bought specifically for her.
She carefully walked to Bucky. She didn’t want him to feel guilty so she made sure not to wince as she took her steps.
She had wanted this. She had asked for it because she had needed it and he only helped her. She wasn’t going to let him berate himself for that.
She left the cream on the coffee table and gently removed Bucky’s hands from his face, guiding him to rest his back on the couch so she could sit herself back across his lap.
Bucky stopped her, standing up to take his pants off so that the material wouldn’t rub against her sensitive skin.
She smiled, her heart lurching at his gentleness and thoughtfulness.
He let her manipulate him into position, closely watching her red-rimmed eyes and swollen nose and lips as she made herself as comfortable as possible on his lap, the new lashes covering her behind out of his sight for now.
Bucky hugged her close, his hands stroking up and down her bare back as she pushed her nose in its place in the crook of his neck, “thank you.” She breathed gratefully.
Bucky only patted her back, pulling her closer in reply. He knew she meant her thanks, but he was still mad at himself for doing it.
She pulled back and let him take her in for a second before leaning in, making Bucky swallow.
“Now fuck me,” she whispered on his lips, grinding down on his covered cock despite the pain it gave her every time she rubbed her inflamed skin on Bucky’s boxers.
“Doll, I think you’ve had enough for today,” Bucky sighed, softly trying to get her off of him.
“Please, just once. I won’t ask for anything else.” She pleaded, her hands clutching the material of Bucky’s tank top, not wanting to leave his lap.
She didn’t want to be away from him. She just got here.
“Doll, give me the cream so I can take care of you,” he demanded, trying to maintain a stern tone so she would listen.
“You can take care of me this way too!” She whined, needy and desperate as she ground herself harder, smiling when she found him hard beneath her.
“I can’t, doll. I can’t. You’re hurt.” Bucky shook his head, gently pushing her to the side and getting up before she could straddle him again.
“Please, Buck,” she croaked out, on the verge of crying again as she grabbed onto his waist, “please don’t walk away.”
“Do you promise not to try anything if I sit back down?” He asked although he knew the answer.
“But I need you!” Anguished tears rolled down her flushed cheeks, “just one orgasm. Please, just one.”
Her constant begging was making Bucky’s cock leak inside his briefs, hard as a rock as he tried his best not to give in.
He had missed her so damn much, but this wasn’t right.
“Doll, come on, quit it. You’re hurt—”
“I haven’t cum in three months.” She cut him off, sniffling as more tears left her eyes, “he— he couldn’t— please.” She begged yet again, her hands cravingly clawing at Bucky’s tank top, wanting him to be close again.
“What?!” Bucky sat back down, wiping her tears away as he took her back into his arms.
She nodded in shame as she cast her eyes down, burrowing her face in his shoulder, “he couldn’t make me cum”.
“Not even with his mouth?”
“Especially not with his mouth,” she muttered, hating the memory of a different man touching her.
“And you didn’t get yourself off?”
She shook her head, still embarrassed as she hid from him.
“Why not?!”
“Couldn’t touch myself without your permission.” She looked up to him, her teary eyes sincere.
Bucky let himself just look at her for a beat longer.
She was with another man that she supposedly wanted to be committed to, but she still followed Bucky’s rules during that relationship.
“I can make you cum, doll,” Bucky said, his gaze darkening, “but I have one condition.”
“Anything,” she whispered, desperate for his touch, his lips, his cock.
She had missed Bucky beyond compare.
“Allow me to break a rule.”
“What—”
“I need to kiss you, baby.”
She smiled, her heart relieved despite its fluttering as she answered by pressing her lips to Bucky’s.
He laid her on her back on his couch, careful not to rub himself against her lower region as he devoured her lips. Bucky sighed on her lips, the first taste always the best.
He hasn’t tasted those lips in nine months, since their very first time together. He remembered them tasting of beer back then, but today it was chocolate lacing her tongue.
It was Bucky’s turn to be desperate as he ate up her whimpers, his tongue dancing with hers as he deepened the kiss. He wanted to gobble her up, get as close to her as possible, taste every inch and swallow every whine.
He realized he couldn’t get as close as he wanted without his boxers scratching the welts on her sore skin.
Bucky pulled away for a second, leaving her to chase his mouth as he chuckled.
She whined, making grabby hands at him.
When he was done taking his boxers off, he got back on top of her, tenderly pushing her legs to her chest to keep them from bumping against the couch before slotting himself between her open legs as his mouth found its way back to hers.
“I can’t believe I let you take this away from me for so long,” he groaned, biting down on her lower lip.
She moaned in reply, pushing her hips up so she could get his cock to stroke against her.
She couldn’t believe she had deprived herself of those kisses either because she knew that she had fallen for the man anyways.
One swipe had Bucky hissing as he felt how wet she was under him. He has needed her for so long, not letting himself find any kind of relief with another woman in her absence.
“Do you want my fingers, doll?”
“No, no, gimme your cock, Bucky, please,” she pleaded, squirming on her back on the couch, pushing her hips up.
“I can’t do that, baby. You know it. It would be too much,” he sighed, his thumb stroking her cheek.
“Bucky, please. I can take it. I’ve taken worse!”
“I can’t. I can’t hurt you anymore, doll.” Bucky admitted, his hand sliding her hair behind her ear.
“Bucky,” she whined and his eyes gave her a firm look, making her shut up at once.
“It’s either my fingers or you get nothing, puppy. What do you want?”
“Your fingers, sir,” she replied obediently, pulling her legs further against her chest to give him all the access he would need.
“That’s a good puppy.” Bucky smiled, thumb circling her swollen clit.
“Please,” she breathed, already throwing her head back at the simple touch.
Bucky chuckled, though he was internally fuming at the fact that she was with a ‘man’ who didn’t make her cum for three whole months, “ready for the first one, puppy?”
“Yes, sir.” She nodded quickly.
Bucky carefully slipped two of his metal fingers inside of her dripping cunt, groaning at the tightness he has missed so much, “I know this hand’s your favorite”.
“I thought you said one!” She moaned in surprise, pushing down on his fingers still.
“I meant first orgasm, puppy,” Bucky laughed, scissoring his fingers inside of her, opening her up exactly like he knew she liked.
And when he curled his fingers just right? She was wailing out the yes’s and thank you’s like it was the last time she would ever get fingered in her life.
“Fuck, baby, squeezing my fingers so hard already,” Bucky groaned, the tips of his vibranium fingers nudging her sweet spot with every indulging thrust, massaging and abusing until he saw her thighs quiver with her first orgasm.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” she squealed as Bucky let her come down from her high, fingers slowing down their movements without leaving her leaking pussy.
“Thank me when we’re done, doll.” He smirked, twisting his fingers inside of her.
Bucky got them out for a second only to slip back three fingers instead of two, feeling her cunt hungrily swallow them as she cried out at the delicious stretch.
He bit his lip, shaking his head as he got to business, “fuck, I’ve missed you so much”.
~
“How we feeling, puppy?” Bucky asked her as he saw her legs tense again.
“So good, so so good, sir. Thank you,” she sobbed in pleasure, feeling her thighs shake for the fifth time that afternoon.
“You’re such a good puppy, cumming so hard for me,” Bucky groaned, feeling the pull of her pussy as he tried to take his fingers out, moving them on her clit instead, “keep cumming baby”.
“I can’t take anymore. Please, I can’t.” She shook her head as she tried to squirm away from Bucky’s skilled fingers.
“Okay, okay,” Bucky chuckled, raising one hand up in surrender as his other went into his mouth.
She was gasping for air as she let her legs go, grimacing when her ass touched the couch. She raised her thighs back up, opening them when Bucky hovered over her body for another kiss.
His cock swiped against her sensitive pussy, making her clench when she felt how hard he was. Bucky was so hard it must be getting painful by now.
“Bucky, I can do one more,” she said against his lips.
“Oh you getting greedy on me, puppy?” Bucky smiled, instantly complying as he brought his hand down between their bodies.
She shivered at the mere tracing of his fingers on her pussy lips, “not with your fingers.”
“Come on now, baby, I thought we’ve already talked about this,” Bucky said, ready to pull away from her body.
“You don’t have to put it inside.” She held onto his waist with all her might, “just rub it on me. I can take that.”
“Baby,” Bucky hesitated, his resolve getting weaker as he imagined the feeling of her silky, drenched pussy under his cock.
“Please, Bucky, just rub it on my pussy. Use me. Make yourself cum.”
“You’re gonna be the death of me,” Bucky whispered, getting hold of his cock.
He swiped the tip between the lips of her cunt, moaning lewdly at the feeling he had missed for months.
She was so wet, so sensitive and so soft.
Bucky was never one to cum fast; not after his very first time with her. But she looked so good under him, already fucked out of her mind. She felt even better and he could only handle so much.
He couldn’t believe she was going to make him cum this quick just by letting him nudge her pussy with the tip of his cock.
“Fuck, baby, this beautiful pussy’s gonna make me bust and I didn’t even get to fuck her!” Bucky groaned, feeling his abs get taut as he tried to hold off his orgasm for as long as physically possible.
He didn’t know where to look; she looked gorgeous everywhere and it was making it harder for him not to cum right then and then.
“I’m cumming,” she gave a shout before shaking underneath him for the sixth time.
“Fuck, yes, cum for me, doll.” Bucky groaned, squeezing at his base to hold his orgasm off.
“Slip the tip inside me, Buck,” she begged, still catching her breath and writhing underneath him needily as if he hadn’t just given her five mind-blowing orgasms on his fingers.
He shook his head, trying to focus on not cumming.
“Please, Bucky, just the tip.”
“Shit, don’t say stuff like that.” Bucky’s head tipped back as he closed his eyes for a second to keep from staring into her imploring ones.
“Please, Bucky. Give me your cum. I missed being filled up of your cum so much.” She begged further, “I’m clean, I promise.”
“I never doubted you, puppy.” Bucky opened his eyes, pressing his lips to hers at once.
“Then give it to me,” she moaned on his lips, holding his face close to hers by the cheek, “give me all of your cum, Bucky. Fill me up until I’m leaking all over myself and your couch.”
“Fuck, doll, I can’t hold back anymore. You wanna be filled up? I’m gonna fill you up,” he growled, popping the fat tip of his cock inside her pussy.
She arched her back for Bucky, desperate to feel more of him, “thank you.”
She missed this cock stretching her to her limits so bad. She missed its girth and its veins and the hot cum it paints her walls with.
Bucky could all but let go at the first clench of her pussy, feeling his cum shoot inside of her until it had filled her up to the brim.
He watched her sigh in satisfaction, a smile spreading on her sweet face as Bucky’s hot load filled up her pulsating cunt.
Bucky reluctantly slipped out of her, watching his cum leak out of her ruined pussy, “oh thank you, doll.”
She couldn’t keep her thighs off the couch anymore, body limp and exhausted. She hissed once again when her raw skin touched the rough couch but didn’t pull her legs back up.
Bucky sighed, kissing her forehead lovingly before going to the bathroom to get a wet cloth to clean her up.
He tried to be gentle as he moved around her skin, wiping away the cum and the sweat. He went to leave the cloth in the bathroom and when he came back, she was tiredly perching herself on his lap.
Bucky smiled, taking the calendula cream from the coffee table to finally rub some against her marked butt and thighs. Aftercare was the most important part and he wasn’t about to forego it.
“How the hell did he fail at making you cum?” Bucky couldn’t help but ask as his palm rubbed circles on her sore skin.
“I guess it was me and my unorgasmable pussy.” She chuckled, making Bucky even madder at the man.
He had caused her to think there was something wrong with her and her body?
“Seems pretty orgasmable to me, doll. He’s the one with a broken penis.” Bucky grunted, focusing on keeping his touch gentle on her skin.
“Could make the other girl cum just fine, so not that broken.” She mumbled into her forearms as she rested her chin on them, wanting nothing more than to disappear.
“What?”
Now Bucky really was angry.
“He cheated on me.”
Her voice was so sad, so shattered.
“Doll,”
Bucky didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know if there was even something to say to make this better.
“Yeah, found them together in his bed and everything. They do try to cover up with the white bed sheet just like the movies.” She chuckled again.
She was making jokes, trying to make light of her pain like she always would, but Bucky wasn’t laughing.
“Doll, I’m so sorry. He’s an asshole.”
“It’s fine, really. Doesn’t come as a surprise to me that I wasn’t enough for him.”
“It isn’t fine and you are enough. You’re everything.”
“Bucky, you don’t have to—”
“Be my girl.”
“What?” Her head whipped back so fast, thinking she must have imagined the words.
“Forget about the rules and the deal and forget about our fears. Be my girl, doll,” Bucky repeated.
“Buck, I—”
“I know I’m messed up beyond repair, but if there’s one thing I can’t mess up, it’s loving you, doll. And if I suck at it, let me die trying my best for you.”
“Why’d you have to go and talk about dying now!” She sat back up, not waiting for her skin to fully absorb the cream as she straddled him again.
Her body was hot all over as she took it his words; words she had imagined him saying while standing alone in the shower so many times before that she’d lost count.
“Be my girl.” Bucky smiled, “let me love you like you deserve, doll.”
“You—”
“Yes. I love you,” Bucky admitted, shrugging, his blunt nails clawing at the small of her back nervously.
“You love me love me?”
“I love you love you.” His palms flattened against the small of her back as he nodded with a bigger smile.
“I love you love you!” She exclaimed angrily, “why didn’t you say anything!” She punched Bucky’s chest.
“Ow!” Bucky laughed, holding her hand midway before she could hit him again, “I didn’t think I deserved you.” He kissed her fist.
The gesture left her quiet as a smile formed on her face despite herself.
She cupped Bucky’s cheek and kissed his lips softly, “you’re an idiot.”
“Still think I don’t deserve you, doll. But I can’t pretend like I’m not madly in love with you anymore.”
He tried to deepen the kiss but she pulled away, shocked.
“Bucky, what are you talking about? If anything, I don’t deserve you!”
“Baby, you deserve the whole world.”
“I don’t want the whole world!” She threw her hands in the air, “just one idiot who would hold me on his lap after a good spanking,” she mumbled shyly, making Bucky laugh.
“This one idiot is all yours if you’d have him, doll.” Bucky’s smile was for once reaching his eyes as he brought her in for another kiss.
“I love you,” she repeated, throwing her body around his, holding him tight, fearing it might be a dream.
“I love you too, baby. I don’t deserve you but fuck I love you so much it keeps me up at night like a teenager,” he confessed in her hair, his big hand pressing her closer to him.
“Stop saying that.” She looked him in the eyes, “you deserve everything good in this whole universe and then some. I just hope I could be enough.”
“Could be enough— doll, you’re enough. You’re just right. The exact amount. You’re it. You’re the best for me and the only one I want.”
She didn’t know what to say to that so she put her lips on Bucky’s again and let the kiss demolish her fears and insecurities.
She was in Bucky’s arms and she was enough. She was safe and loved.
This was Bucky. Bucky, who was never intimidated by her professional success. Bucky, who has met her at her worst. Bucky, who has never done her wrong. Bucky, who has gotten to see the real, raw her and never turned away.
It was in that very moment that she realized that running away from Bucky to find love with other men was the worst crime she had committed against herself because now the mere idea of being out of this man’s arms and heart was too illogical and incredulous to even consider.
“I love you,” Bucky repeated on her lips as they caught their breaths.
And she could see it all in his loving, blue eyes as they adored every inch of her face: she was home and she was never getting lost again.
~
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suguann · 7 months
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I HOPE YOU STAY—GOJO SATORU
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✎. he’d asked why your coworkers weren’t waiting outside with you—it's not safe here—at the same time you asked for a kiss. it just sort of slipped out. | wc. 2.8k+
tags. fem!reader, grinding, unprotected sex, oral sex, some mutual pining (it's implied he doesn't know how to talk to reader), there is not a world where gojo isn't rich, fwb to lovers, jealousy, gagging on how very much in love gojo is with reader and she doesn't see it, praise kink, pet names [18+ only]
masterlist
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You’re not sure how it all started.
(As how all arrangements like these seem to start.) 
You remember calling Gojo on a night out with your coworkers—one too many cheap vodka cranberries in your system clouding your judgment—just as he left the office for the day, asking if he could pick you up from a shady nightclub downtown. 
(You’d hardly been acquaintances, and there was a long period of time where you’re sure he only tolerated you for Shoko’s sake since she’s the one who dragged you into their group of friends. You’re always the last one he acknowledges in the room, and he seems to clam up when you’re alone together.
You refused to let it get to you. Especially when you only see him a handful of times every other month or so, although less now that you’re around, and you pretend it doesn’t eat at you.)
It’s still a mystery why you called him out of everyone you know—you had to scroll through an endless amount of contacts just to find a message you sent him months ago that he left on read with the express purpose of annoying you—and even more surprising that he answered.
You didn’t know him as well as Shoko, but maybe a secret hidden part of you knew he’d help if you were in a pinch.
“Hello?” 
(He might be the most infuriating human you know, but he has a voice like rich bourbon. 
He’s also stupidly attractive. Beautiful, even, with his straight nose, soft-looking mouth, and thick hair that adorably curls around his ears. However, you’d never say that to his face, for his head would get too big.)
“Do you think you could give me a ride?” It was almost a miracle that your words didn’t slur.
You half expected him to hang up, but then he asked for the address, and several minutes later, he pulled up to the curb in his shiny sports car that probably cost more than everything you own combined and watched you stumble into the soft-leather passenger seat. 
It should be embarrassing how long it took you to buckle your seatbelt, but then you finally got a good look at him and took note of his expensive-looking suit: his tie slightly undone, shiny watch and cuff links glinting under the passing street lights, how his hair looked like he ran one of his bear paws for hands through it several times. 
You think it was the first time you realized he was as tall as he was wide.
The quintessential businessman in a three-piece suit. You understand the appeal now. 
(That je ne sais quoi that makes you want something out of reach. Why your friends from college ask if he’s single when all you see is a man who never takes anything seriously.)
He’d asked why your coworkers weren’t waiting outside with you—it's not safe here—at the same time you asked for a kiss. It just sort of slipped out.
Gojo gave you a look that would have made you giggle if you weren’t serious. “What?”
“I want a kiss,” you told him again.
It was the little once-over he gave you afterward, the way he missed the exit to your street and took the one that led to his, how he kissed you until your knees were wobbly and weak, and you could barely walk to his door in your heels as he pressed small ones around your mouth while his fingers sunk into your hair.
(That. That—)
You came against his thigh—staining his Burberry suit while he whispered dirty things into your ear—right there in the hallway where anybody could see if he didn’t have the whole floor to himself.
“Fuck, baby,” he groaned into your mouth once he had you in his room, his hands trailing up and down your sides until he found the zipper for your dress and tugged. "I can't believe this is really happening."
(Later, you spend a lot of time analyzing what he meant.)
You urged him toward the bed when he had the black slip of fabric pooling at your feet, dropping down to your knees in front of him, and together, you scrabbled at his pants, shoving them around his hips. You’ll never forget how hot and heavy he was in your hand that first time, how your fingers barely touched and looked so small in comparison.
There was a thick vein along the underside of his cock, and you trailed it with your tongue, going up and up until you took the slightly purpling head into your open mouth.
You kept taking more of him until you couldn’t go any further without gagging, which wasn’t far because he was big—possibly the biggest dick you’ve ever seen outside of porn—and it made you a little dizzy how quickly it robbed you of air. 
“Holy shit.” He stroked your hair so softly, so sweetly, groaned things that made you preen and nuzzle into his touch. “You’re so good at this. You gonna let me cum down that throat?”
That made your belly flip—the fact that Gojo Satoru, of all people, called you good—a stone creating a current of new possibilities.
You hummed a muffled “Uh huh” and squeaked when he held your head down—the coarse hair at his pubic bone brushing against your nose—cumming down your throat in hot, heavy spurts, and you’re surprised you swallowed it all because it was a lot.
He fell back against the mattress, freeing you of his grip, arms spread wide and panting as he lay there with his eyes closed.
“Was it good?” you asked, licking away the small amount of cum that escaped the corner of your mouth.
That got him to pop his head up to look at you, a hint of something too soft on his face than you were used to from him. “Come here,” and he let you crawl into his lap.
A sigh escaped his lips as his hands hovered close to the side of your waist before letting them fall back against the mattress. “You’re trouble, you know that?” he mumbled after kissing your forehead.
(That’s how you think it started.)
~~~~~
Everything’s fine.
Perfectly fine before Gojo sits by you, casually planting himself between you and the newest member of your group of friends, Nanami. You roll your eyes at how childish he’s being, refusing to react to his blatant jealousy.
Then he inconspicuously rests his hand on your knee. You jump at first, and the few people sitting at the table with you glance at you curiously, including Gojo, who gives you a mischievous little smirk that can only mean trouble. 
Again, you roll your eyes and choose to ignore whatever is going on in that lizard brain of his.
That doesn’t last long because he’s leaning across you to grab a handful of pretzels, only to lean in close, lips brushing the shell of your ear as he sinks back into his seat.
“You look so fucking good in this dress right now.” His voice already sounds hoarse, stretched thin—raw with want—and you inconspicuously rub your thighs together under the table. “Are you wearing what I bought you underneath? You’d show me, yeah?”
(Because he buys you things now—perfectly normal for someone you’re sleeping with who’s not your boyfriend, but maybe your friend—and sometimes you playfully call him Daddy when he has your wrists tied above your head with one of his silky ties.
And who cares if a few of your things and a toothbrush have found their way into his place? He lives closer to your job. Nobody can blame you for choosing convenience over a forty-minute ride through the subway.
Normal.)
Distantly, you’re aware that you aren’t alone, and there are several ears within earshot distance, but that doesn’t stop the little gasp that escapes past your lips. 
“Satoru, knock it off.” You glance around the table to make sure no one is paying attention, your tensed shoulders relaxing a little when you find everyone too preoccupied with their own conversations.
Gojo already has acknowledged this, too. 
“I bet you still taste just as sweet as you did this morning. You have no idea how much I want you. It’s making me hard just thinking about it.” At that, you peek down at his lap to find the prominent bulge pressing against his khaki pants. 
“Oh?” voice soft when you finally tear your eyes away from his crotch to meet his heated gaze again.
“Mhm.” 
Oh. 
You can tell that he sees your walls cracking, that it would only take a few sweet words before you finally caved: “You’d let me have another taste, wouldn’t you?”
Your breath hitches because, yes, you would. 
That’s how you find yourself with your thighs parted and one of your legs draped over his.
You bite your lip, trying to hold back the moan threatening to escape while the rough pad of his middle finger presses small circles over the top of your panties. His fingers tease, exploring the slick seam of you and retreating when you start arching your hips up into his touch.
It feels like you can’t breathe—or perhaps you’re too fearful to find out what other noises you’d make if you did—practically choking on the torturous (because that’s what this is) pleasure you’re receiving, and you’re ready to beg. You really are. However, you aren’t prepared to face the mortifying consequences if you happen to open your mouth.
Something that sounds a lot like, please, just waiting on the tip of your tongue.
It feels like every pair of eyes at that small table are on you, but they’re none the wiser to what is currently happening beneath the party-themed tablecloth, still laughing and mingling around the yard as they celebrate Geto’s birthday. 
It’s not as if it’s all that obvious, either. 
Gojo is turned away from you, currently in the middle of a discussion with the birthday boy himself. You have no clue what they were talking about because you’d stopped paying attention a while ago—not that you’d be able to listen if you wanted to with Gojo’s fingers turning every spun cotton candy thought back into melted sugar. 
He traces lightly over the covered seam of your lips before finally slipping under the silky material—his skilled fingers working slippery circles at the apex of your thighs—and the subtle relief forces you to swallow another moan. 
“Satoru,” you warn under your breath, grabbing his wrist to stop his movements. But the feel of him patting your sticky, sensitive clit with three fingers cuts off all of your protests, forcing you to sit there and let him play with you.
Heat crawls up your neck as he explores your slick folds, the loud music, and chatter, thankfully hiding the wet sounds produced between your legs. 
He does offer some mercy when he notices the slight quiver in your thighs, how they jump and jump until he stops teasing to press to fingers inside you and grind the heel of his palm into your clit. Your hips start rocking forward against his hand slightly, and you pray nobody notices because the heat spreading through your belly is almost too consuming to stop now, making you dizzy with it. 
Your abs hurt from how hard they clench, and your legs shake, culminating in a slow drop just before you resurface. Gojo can probably feel it—attuned to your body after all these months—and starts moving in a steady rhythm, and—
The breath you’re about to take gets caught in your throat, fingers gripping Gojo’s wrist and the ledge of the table as you tip over the edge. Your legs tremble while you convulse onto his hand, and you have to lean into him to keep from falling out of your chair. 
His fingers bring you back down, slowly, rubbing soothingly against your inner thigh as the fog gradually dissipates from your brain. And what you’d give to hear him call you his good girl at that moment—
“Hey, are you okay?” Shoko asks you from across the table. “You don’t look so good.”
All eyes turn towards you, including the smug little gleam in Gojo’s. 
“Yeah,” you squeak before standing up hastily. You pull Gojo up with you, not caring that it’s the same hand covered in your sticky-wet slick. “I just remembered that I need Sa—Gojo’s help with something.”
Only a few are dumb enough to believe that lie, and you avoid the smirk Shoko gives you as she watches you practically drag Gojo toward the house.
(Because, of course, she knows.
And perhaps she’s not the only one.)
~~~~~
The tipping point in your relationship—the one that turns it from a maybe into a definite something, and not just two people who have been having sex and somewhat living together for six months—happens on a night Gojo comes home late from work. 
(Exactly five minutes to eleven.)
You’re not usually the jealous type, but you’ll admit that dating someone like Gojo—rich, attractive, owns more Tom Ford suits than you have jeans, and just important enough that he has an assistant who runs said suits to the dry cleaners—can stir up some insecurities.
A more reasonable person would lay out the facts like a deck of cards: you know he’s someone’s boss’s boss, so he likely had to stay behind to fix someone else’s mess, but the proverbial chip onto the poker table comes with his new assistant. 
Hinata.
A girl who’s fresh out of college and around him more hours of the day than you see him during the week, and from the few times you stopped by his office, you can tell she has a thing for him—her lack of subtlety could compete with Gojo’s nonexistent observation skills.
Much later, after you’ve slept on the softest sheets you’ve ever laid on, you’ll admit you overreacted. How you shouldn’t have thrown blankets and pillows at him from his bed for him to sleep on the couch with as soon as he walked through the front door—not to mention how you never give him a chance to explain himself and keep huffing whenever he opened his mouth.
After the second pillow (almost comically, if you weren’t so upset) hits him square in the face, he drops the blankets to grab your wrists.
“Would you stop throwing blankets at me and tell me what’s wrong?”
"Like you don't know," you hiss unhelpfully just to be difficult.
"I wouldn't be asking if I did." This time, his voice is softer when he says, "Talk to me."
"It’s your assistant."
He frowns. “My assistant…?”
“Yes, your assistant,” you huff, making an unsuccessful attempt to yank your wrists free. “She obviously has a thing for you, but you’re too thick to notice. You forgot your phone, and she answered and said you were busy...”
He probably sees the vulnerability on your face. Hears what you’re not telling him because he presses a kiss to your forehead—I’m not seeing anyone other than you—another to your mouth before he’s showing you with your thighs pressed to your chest that every piece of him (even the parts he doesn’t show to anyone else) is yours.
“You want me to send this video to her to let her know you’re the only girl I want to fuck?” he grunts, making sure his phone captures the way his cock pushes in and out of you, hissing dirtier things that only you hear—the tightest pussy he’s ever had. “Would you like that?”
“Y-yes,” you whine, fingernails digging into his hand wrapped around your throat. “Please, Toru. I want it.” 
“So fucking dirty,” he growls, even though he’d do it for you anyway.
He stuffs his cock into you over and over again until you’re a twitching mess underneath him, the walls of your cunt clenching down around him as you cum with a squeak.
“There you go,” he groans into your ear, tossing his phone to the side to pin you against the mattress so he can reach that tender spot deep inside you that made you cum so hard once your foot cramped, his teeth sinking into your shoulder. “Is that what you needed? To make you cum because you’re mine? Fuck, baby—I’ll never get tired of this perfect little cunt.”
“Better not,” you whimper, eyelashes wet, squirming beneath him as he fucks you hard into the soft sheets.
“Never, sweetheart, never.” Gojo’s thrusts turn rough and brutal, almost working you into overstimulation just to prove a point. "You're my girl. The only one for me."
It's not quite an 'I love you,' but it's close.
Afterward, he pulls you between the sheets, holds you close with a hand cupping the back of your head, and asks you to stay.
“For good this time. No more leaving in the morning,” he whispers, lips grazing your cheek. “You like the walk-in closet and the clawfoot tub. We have enough room to turn the spare bedroom into an office for you because you like how sunny it gets in there during the day.”
It’s not a question, but you still say ‘I do’ because you really like how the word we sounds coming from him.
“Then…stay.”
…You say yes because it’s not as if you want to be anywhere else.
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kanekisfavoritegf · 4 months
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PERFECT LOVER: The Life of Nanami Kento the 35 Year Old Virgin
MINORS & BLANK BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT YOU WILL GET BLOCKED
SYNOPSIS: Kento Nanami, a 35-year-old introvert with a tendency to avoid social interactions, has made a conscious decision to steer clear of romantic entanglements. However, everything changes when he meets a new colleague at his birthday party, (Satoru's Idea). From the moment they meet, he is mesmerized, finding himself increasingly unable to resist her magnetic presence. Like taking a bite of forbidden fruit, he becomes ensnared by the allure, delving into a realm of infatuation and finding himself unable to break free. As he delves deeper into this newfound connection, Nanami begins to realize that he craves more than just a fleeting experience and yearns for more than just a fleeting taste of what she embodies.
Table of Contents
WORD COUNT: 1.4K
CHAPTER ONE:
The lights somehow made you glow in Kento Nanmi's eyes. Or maybe it was just you, and your effortless ability to draw everyone's eyes on you. You stood atop a table dancing with Satoru wildly, arms flailing and your body rolling along to the rhythmic pounding of the bass. Pink and blue lights stuck to you and everyone in the nightclub's eyes.
"Stare any harder, Kento; lasers might shoot from your eyes," Suguru smirked as he spoke.
"I don't know what you mean, Suguru," Kento said curtly before taking a swig of his drink.
"Don't worry, I won't tell."
"There is nothing to tell."
"Do you want me to schedule a date with you and Yuki?" 
"Yuki?" Kento coughed a drop of his drink catching in his throat.
"Your eyes have been locked on her since she got on the table with her friend." The blonde man almost laughed in his face from pure shock.
"Who wouldn't stare with her atrocious dancing, almost like a headless chicken. Either way, stop trying to set me up; I've sworn off dating, remember?"
"How could we ever forget." Satoru chimed in, sliding next to Suguru, sweat making his blue work shirt cling to his body tightly, "One bad kiss in University and suddenly, any romantic opportunity was thrown out the window with you."
That was the washed-down version of what happened to Kento, but his work colleagues didn't need to know about how he basically got verbally beaten by a girl cause he wasn't ready to lose his V-Card in a one-night stand.
"Oh, all he needs to do is put himself out there more," Yuki said, forcing herself into this embarrassingly uncomfortable conversation. "You are gonna die a virgin if you keep this up."
"Better to die a virgin than known as a whore."
"Hey! I am not a whore." Satoru exclaimed. 
"Yet somehow you knew Kento was talking about you." Yuki quipped back.
"Where is…" Suguru’s voice trailed off when he realized he had forgotten your name.
“Y/N?” Kento helped Suguru find the name.
"Yes," the long-haired man snapped his fingers, "Where is Y/N? She is going to miss the cake."
"Cake?" Kento grumbled. "You didn't say there was going to be cake, Satoru. You promised there wouldn't be cake."
"Okay, I lied." Satoru tried to conceal a smile
Kento raised to his feet, ready to leave before the birthday parade showed up with cake, probably with something stupid on its icing, and a club screaming happy birthday drunkenly. "But think of it like a welcome cake, too. For Y/N, Yuki wanted her to get to know all of us before her first day in the department on Monday. And you two haven't spoken to her since she first introduced herself." Satoru pointed at Suguru and Kento.
"You are the one who stole her away to do the “Six Devil Shots” and then to the dance floor," Suguru said.
"Or you too could have come and danced with us." You cut in, a cake and candles in hand. "I stole this out of the kitchen."
"You said you were going to the bathroom." Yuki laughed.
"I did, and then I stole the cake."
"Unbelievable," Satoru said. "It was supposed to be a big thing for Nanami." Satoru pouted slightly at the prospects of not being able to embarrass his coworker. 
"Well, Mr. Nanami doesn't seem like the type to enjoy drunk people sing-screaming at him, much less their attention solely on him." You slid your way onto Nanami's side, placing the cake in front of him and the three and five candles in its center. "You have a lighter, right?" You whispered into Kento's ear. He only nodded, letting out a nervous breath before pulling it out and handing it to you.
The group sang Happy Birthday as loudly as they could over the blasting music that played behind them. Giving up after the first verse, Kento blew out his candles.
Thirty-five years old as of today, and he was no better than a teenage boy, semi-hard because you whispered in his ear and stole a cake so he could avoid attention. Sometimes, Nanami felt he was missing out on what Yuki, Satoru, and Suguru had. Some imaginary certificate to adulthood, the type that could only be won through cashing in his V-Card, but then again, would losing it to a stranger make him catch up with others his age? He knew he wasn’t the only virgin at his age, but in situations where a pretty girl flirts with him, and he wants to flirt back, something always manages to catch his tongue. The voice in the back of his head probably reminds him that she wants something from him that Kento knows he won’t be able to give her. So he doesn’t flirt anymore. And as fast as the hard-on came, it was gone, along with any idea of ever entertaining the idea that you would ever want him.
Just because a woman is nice to you doesn't mean you get hard. Kento reprimanded himself in his head.
"Okay, enjoy the cake; I'm heading home now," Kento shouted over the music. "I have to catch the last train."
Yuki and Gojo booed them loudly while Geto threw him a look that screamed, "You are going to leave me with these idiots?"
"So do I." You said, "Mind walking with me?" you said, realizing what time it was.
Kento wanted so badly to say, "Yes, I mind. The whole reason I am taking the train and not a taxi later is to avoid you." but he didn't. He only shook his head and grabbed his coat.
"I'll send you the money for my bill when I get home, Satoru," you said, grabbing your coat. 
"Don't worry about it," Kento said as he placed down a wad of cash before putting a hand over your shoulder, hovering slightly, "You ready?"
You only nodded, ignoring the head in your voice that swooned a little at the simple act of covering your bill. You were tipsy; that's why your delusions ran a little wild.
You made a mental note to never do shots with Satoru again as you slowly made your way through the dancing crowd and out of the nightclub, Kento's hand still on your shoulder.
***
The night air was surprisingly calm for the summer, making you shiver a little as you turned into Kento, keeping his body close to yours under the stars and in a quiet street.
“How was your birthday?” You asked, wanting to break the silence that seemed to fall upon the two of you.
“It was good.” He said curtly, “I don’t really have experience with celebrations to do with me.”
“You don’t celebrate your birthday?” You asked, even though it wasn’t all that surprising.
“What counts as celebrating?” 
“Hmmm, something fun, I guess.” You shrugged.
“Well, it’s my first time going to a nightclub to celebrate.” A small smile decorated his face, “I usually cook a nice dinner for myself or go to a fancy restaurant that I have been saving up on.”
“What about everyone else?”
“What do you mean?” 
“Well, you are telling me this is the first time Satoru has dragged you out for your birthday?”
“The first time since University, yes.” Kento didn’t elaborate, and you didn’t pry, letting a comfortable silence fall upon you two. As you turned the corner, you guys made your way to the train tracks, empty and void of any life other than the three people on the other side of the tracks. 
Just like before, the train ride was quiet. A few people were on the train, but you managed to snag seats together. You don’t know when it happened, but you let yourself drift to sleep, leaving Kento alone to his thoughts.
Each lurch of the cart when the train stopped and started made you curl into the man even more until your body leaned against him completely. 
It was only when his stop approached that Kento realized he didn’t know where you lived or whether you missed your stop. A slight panic filled him, and he shook a fully asleep you back to consciousness. 
“Y/N. Y/N.” He half whispered into your ear. Only to be met with soft groans. He shook you a little harder this time, and that’s when your eyes fluttered open. Still half asleep, though, you barely comprehend what he was saying, mindlessly grabbing his hand and following him as he stepped off the train.
Alcohol was still dancing in your brain; you nodded your head in agreement and followed him to his apartment…
Preview...
Nanami knew he wouldn’t last long, but as he sunk into you, the idea of even holding in the waves of pleasure that drowned him was impossible.
TAG LIST: @marikuchanxo @sukunasstomachtongue @getosgirlfailure @allysunny @tojicvmslut @typefeisu @aiyaaayei @villsophie @sillysillygoofygoose @jinleft @rivversin @haikioo @destinyblue-jjk @ramonathinks @actuallysaiyan @actuallysaiyan @melisuh123
CHAPTER TWO UPLOADED
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teenytinyjimin · 6 months
Text
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i miss you, i’m sorry (j. jungkook)
nothing happened in the way i wanted
every corner of this house is haunted
and i know you said that we’re not talking
but i miss you, i’m sorry.
summary: the first time seeing each other after the breakup is always the hardest. but seeing each other when you're still in love? an absolute nightmare
pairing: jungkook x reader
word count: 2k
tags: angst, smoker!jk, brokenhearted!jk, equally as brokenhearted!reader, why did they even break up in the first place?, featuring reader’s bestfriend!jimin, also jimin is sexually ambiguous let's keep it that way please
warnings: none, alcohol/nic use but nothing too intense, kinda sad but it's a happy ending i promise
author’s note: idk why i keep making my fic names and stuff inspired by songs, i guess it just helps me beat writers block.
also i wrote this in second person, lmk if you guys prefer that over third. i personally find third person fics easier to write, but i'm sure second person is easier to read for some of you. enjoy my angels!
── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──
Bars weren't really your thing.
If you were going to be honest, they were miles better than nightclubs, but still not your thing. It was something about the air that just rubbed you the wrong way. Perhaps it was all the creepy old men that turned you off of them, or just the fact that there's not much to do besides sit, drink, sit some more, maybe play some pool and... sit.
Jimin, on the other hand, loved bars. He loved being able to sit there, look pretty, and watch as absolutely anyone and everyone flocked over to him to start a conversation. It admittedly fueled his ego, and he loved the feeling of being the center of attention. However, he didn't love being at bars alone. Being so drop-dead gorgeous meant that about twenty times the amount of creeps bothered him than the average bar patron. Many of them figured that a pretty boy like him was sitting there waiting to be swooped up by a sugar daddy. Let's get one thing straight – that wasn't him. He had plenty of money. He just wanted to have a little conversation, give a little kiss here and there maybe, and dip at the end of the night with his bar companion by his side.
Unfortunately for you, that bar companion was usually you. It was certainly a compliment for Jimin to want to bring you along with him instead of any of his other gazillions of friends and other social connections, but it was quite exhausting for you to be in a bar pretty much every day of every weekend. He liked the attention, but you didn't. If it were an empty room with nothing but you and a bottle of rum, you'd have a blast. But what bar in Itaewon was going to be like that?
Alas, here you were, sat at the end of a bar with your friend sitting next to you. Something about the light in the building made him look extra beautiful tonight, his skin shimmering like the most precious of diamonds and his eyes deep and full of allure. At the moment he was making small talk with a lady on the other side of him, one who was definitely at least twenty years his senior but didn't look a day past thirty. Sighing, you drop your head down to look at your drink, a half-full martini glass that held a rather disappointing cosmopolitan (you weren't a vodka fan anyway, it wasn't the bartender's fault).
You wanted to be home. That was the only place you ever wanted to be these days. At home, cuddling your darling kitty in bed, and sleeping your days away. Maybe a year ago you would have loved being out and about, but now it feels more like a burden than a fun activity. And you know that Jimin doesn't mean any harm in doing what he does, but seeing him talk with so many people over the course of the night and being so happy is almost a bit gut-wrenching for you because you can't be as happy as him.
You began to feel the blood rush to your ears and your face get warm. Something was wrong, you could sense it. Everyone has those gut instincts when something isn't quite right, and this wasn't just an instinct, it was like a neon sign. A neon sign that read DANGER. Perhaps it was just you feeling rather anxious and overwhelmed, but either way you were craving the comfort of your home.
"Hey, 'Minnie, can we-" Just as you turned to Jimin to softly ask him if you could go home or at the very least switch bars, you felt a presence behind you. It wasn't just an I'm here to order a drink presence, but rather an I'm here for you one. Realizing that Jimin wasn't even listening anyway, you froze, waiting to see what would happen. And that's when you heard a familiar voice that you thought you'd never hear again.
"Hey."
You didn't want to turn around. You tried to stay as still as a statuette for as long as possible, however the more you thought about the man behind you the more you felt the urge to turn around and take a bite of the forbidden fruit. Taking a deep breath, you slowly turned until you were face-to-face with your ex, Jungkook.
"Want to talk outside?" Not yet looking at him directly, you hesitantly nodded before quickly looking back to Jimin and then standing up. You left your purse there, figuring that your friend would grab it if he changed locations, and began trailing after the tall tattooed figure that navigated his way toward the door.
As the two of you stepped out into the cool autumn air, you crossed your arms and leaned against the building. Your heart was between your ears at this point, buzzing at what felt like 200 beats a minute. It was stupid for you to have even left Jimin's side, you thought, because now you were alone with your ex of all people and God knows what this boy has up his sleeve.
"You look good," Jungkook said gently as he pulled out a pack of cigarettes and placed one between his lips. "And I know what you're going to say, you're so full of it Kook, but I mean it."
"Since when have you started smoking?" You asked, ignoring his previous two statements and gesturing toward the pack in his hand. He shrugged. "Couple weeks after I last saw you maybe? Not a big deal."
"You know that stuff's bad for you."
"I don't think sitting here third-wheeling with Jimin and his beau of the night is any better."
"You don't know Jimin, don't act like you do," You said, completely taken aback and offended by the words coming out of his mouth. "And I'm having a good time, thank you very much."
"Doesn't seem like it. Weren't you about to ask him if you guys could leave?"
"I was having- What?- Is there a reason you asked to talk to me out here?" You were struggling to form a complete sentence. This man always knew how to leave you speechless, but now it was just irritating. You watched as Jungkook leaned back onto the building with you and shook his head, giving you a toothy grin before lighting the cigarette in his mouth. "Nah. Just figured you'd have more fun out here talking to me and getting a break from it all."
"You know he's waiting for me, right? I should go back inside." You stand back up straight and begin walking back into the bar, however you feel a warm hand wrap gently around your wrist and tug you back. "Hey hey hey," Jungkook called. "He'll survive a few minutes without you. Just chill with me. I'm not asking you for anything, just a second of your time."
You turned to face your ex-lover, your eyes finally meeting his for the first time that night. Even after all this time of being apart, those beautiful doe eyes still yearned for you, and yours for him. With a shaky sigh, you brush his hand away and return to where you were standing. "Exes don't hang out like this, Jungkook."
"Woah, you're pulling out the full government name on me now?" The boy teased, puffing a cloud of smoke from his mouth. "Should I be offended?"
"I'm setting boundaries," You crossed your arms and kicked at the ground beneath you. "Nicknames are for friends or more than friends, which we aren't."
"We aren't strangers either though."
"That doesn't matter. Not friends."
"Alright, fine," Giving up, Jungkook looked down at his hand and flexed it awkwardly. "Just trying to be friendly."
"Friendly?!" You said frantically, finally having enough of his antics. "You don't need to be friendly. We broke up and that's the end of it. Exes aren't friends. They go their separate ways and when they see each other again – if they see each other – they ignore each other. I don't get why you're doing this psychological warfare bullshit on me."
"Exes can be friends," He breathed out in protest. "Can you even tell me why we broke up in the first place?"
You remained silent. The truth was that you didn't know why you broke up either. It had been almost a year since the whole ordeal went down, and you were still confused more than anything else, even more than you were hurt. All you can remember is that you guys went through some bullshit ‘mutual breakup’ that apparently neither of you wanted in the first place. The only reason you even agreed to it is because somewhere within you, you felt like perhaps you weren’t deserving of such a wonderful relationship. And the only reason Jungkook agreed to it is because he thought that it’s what you wanted.
"No, seriously. What went wrong? What did I do? I just want some closure..." His voice became increasingly softer as he kept speaking, which only meant one thing. You stared at the ground intensely, refusing to look up and see his teary eyes.
You felt his hand gently wrap around yours and tug on it as a plea for your attention. Jungkook was your weakness, the only person you'd willingly do anything for, and he really loved to take advantage of that without even realizing he was.
You peered up at him hesitantly, worried that you'd find yourself in tears the second you saw the ones pouring from his eyes. Sure enough, when the eye contact began, you were driving yourself forward into his strong arms and dampening his shirt with your tears.
Jungkook's embrace felt the same as it did the last time you felt it. It was still so warm, so inviting, so loving. Never once did you feel unsafe in his arms and this moment was not an exception. As you sobbed into his shirt you felt his hand move from around your waist to the top of your head, stroking your hair gently.
The two of you stood there for what seemed like hours, simply letting all emotion out while enjoying the company of one another. While Jungkook has been exceptionally transparent in expressing the fact that he's heartbroken about the situation between the two of you, it's safe to say that you feel equally as devastated. This man was once the love of your life and the only one you ever needed, but now everything about him except for his embrace feels foreign. This was someone you once saw yourself building a life with, but now it's shattering to think that he has a life after you.
You pulled away after a while, refusing to make eye contact as you wiped the tears from your eyes. This all felt entirely pointless. It was obvious that nothing went wrong in the relationship yet here you were, no longer in one. You couldn't begin to imagine what Jungkook had been going through since you guys broke up considering the fact that for you, your entire world turned upside down.
"I'm sorry," You managed to choke out before you felt Jungkook's hand gently guide your face up to look at his. You watched him stare at you for a moment, taking in your features, before his lips began to curl into a soft smile. "Mmm. Yeah. You're way too pretty to let slip through my fingers."
Feeling your face turn hot as a blush crept to your cheeks, you let out a soft giggle before you were cut off by a familiar pair of lips meeting yours.
"JUNGKOOK?" You heard a voice call out. The two of you pulled apart, eyes wide. Shit. You forgot about Jimin.
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szoboobszlai · 2 months
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DOES HE KNOW?
pairing: ex-situationship!jude bellingham x female reader
warnings: none i guess
author notes: hi! this is the first time i wrote something like this and also the first time i have ever written something entirely in english – since it's not my first language, you may find some grammar mistakes. anyways, hope you enjoy it! 🤍✨
| edit: this is the first part of my one direction lyric-based writing series! you can find the full writing list here.
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it was passing through jude’s head all night.
you, in that tight little skirt, were the only thing he could pay attention to – the other girls around him?
he didn’t even notice.
the only thing he noticed was the way you were dancing in that nightclub partnerless. that man you were going out with just didn’t show up? did you broke up this “thing” you had with him?
jude didn’t know.
in fact, you and jude were in a situationship for a few months last summer, in where he was on vacation from real madrid. nothing that serious for any of you – he was a world class player and you knew that you shouldn’t involve with this kind of man; you weren't a football groupie, after all.
he felt different, but never told you.
after he went back to madrid to restart the intense training routine, he knew that you started going out with another man; people told jude that you were with this guy named josh, and he actually saw both of you in a party a few weeks before.
jude knew the man knows a few things about you: your secret tattoo, your favorite band, the songs that you sing when you’re all alone.
but you’re not with josh tonight.
does he know that you try to hide your smile when jude bellingham catch your eye and see you looking at him?
does he know you can move like that just for jude to see it?
jude bet he didn’t.
— uh... hey. — he said when he got closer to you on the dance floor.
— hi, jude. — you answered, trying to not seem so nervous; it was jude bellingham, after all.
you knew he was that magnetic, with his dark eyes that could see through your soul and that strong and elegant woody scent you already knew.
you face each other for a while; his gaze gave you goosebumps, and you had exactly the same effect on him.
— it’s been a while, right? — he says shyly, almost afraid of your answer. — so... have you been alone tonight?
— yes, it’s been a while. i only see you in your games through the TV. — you confess. — and yes, i’m on my own tonight.
your red-lined smile made jude’s heart skip a beat; so you have been cheering on him last season, even with him playing on a team in another country?
actually, it was pretty nice for him to hear it.
— doesn't josh get jealous when he sees you watching to another men on TV? — jude asks. doesn't he get jealous when he sees you watching jude on TV? doesn't he get jealous seeing you cheering for a man that still wanted you so bad?
— i didn't care if he jealous or not, actually. — you answer, for jude’s surprise. — josh knew a lot about me, but nothing about me.
the silence between you overcame the loud music that echoed through the walls of the nightclub.
— how could him know you head to toe and yet don't know nothing about you?
— well... he’s not you, jude.
he knew that. jude bellingham knows you inside and out; he memorized every single detail of your face, the songs that you sing when you're all alone. everything about you.
the way you talked got him mesmerized.
the way he looked at you, with his lips slightly open, while the song was playing loudly on the background, got you thinking about how much you missed being in his arms.
as if jude was reading your mind, he closes the space between both of you, sealing your lips with a peck that turned into a loving kiss.
the way his hands fit perfectly in your waist, tracing every inch of your body, was making you insane.
the way he kissed your neck passionately, even if you were in the crowd, showed that he barely cared about being the worldwide famous footballer.
tonight, he was just yours.
does he know that you wanted him so bad?
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brickmvster · 3 days
Text
An Old Flame (Leon Kennedy x Reader)
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Synopsis: After getting hammered at a club in attempts to repair a broken heart, in your drunken stupor, you call the one person you were trying to get over. He takes you back to his place, taking care of you, and it's then you realize that your feelings for him never quite dissipated.
Tags: breaking up and making up/exes to lovers, angst, fluff, a little bit of emotional hurt/comfort that goes both ways, reconciliation
Warnings: Drinking, mentions of alcohol consumption
Word Count: 6,309
Author's Note: I'm alive 😭 writer's block sucks, but I'm slowly getting back into the swing of things, I think. I hope you guys enjoy this!! Notes and reblogs are appreciated of course. This has been proofread, but if any mistakes still managed to slip by me, apologies in advance, they're all mine.
I imagined RE4R Leon while writing this but please feel free to imagine any version of him you'd like!
(Read on AO3)
Sobbing in a dirty bathroom stall was definitely not how you envisioned your Friday night going.
The fact that you were also considerably drunk and could feel the liquid sloshing around inside of your belly, threatening to come up your throat and all over the floor, certainly didn't make matters any better.
You had come to the club with a group of friends who were all far more enthusiastic than you to be there. You never considered yourself much of a party person; and if you were going to attend a party, it was always a small one with people that you knew or were at least acquaintances with. At a dingy nightclub, you were surrounded by hundreds of sweaty strangers, and the music was so loud that you were sure you were going to be temporarily deaf for a while. To make the long story short – you weren't looking forward to coming here, but you regrettably let your friends drag you out of the comfort of your home.
The stupid leather pants your friends insisted you wore were feeling too tight. The bathroom was so stuffy and unbearably hot. There were two individuals in the stall next to you engaging in… a certain activity that you really didn't want to be around to hear. And the awful, terrible smell of puke was probably one of the worst things you've ever smelled in your entire life. It was all too much, every single one of your five senses being mercilessly attacked.
You shouldn't have let yourself get wasted; you knew that, and you mentally cursed yourself for such reckless behavior. But the longer you sat at the bar, completely by yourself and with your friends nowhere in sight, it was like no one was there to stop you. You still missed him and you thought alcohol would be better at numbing the pain than a tub of ice cream. Both were terrible items for getting over a heartbreak because they both only made you want to vomit, which is something you always learned the hard way.
That's how you ended up in a stall, tears freely running down your cheeks in a drunken haze. Your friends were on your mind, but more than anything you just wanted to be carried out of here. You grabbed your phone out of your bag and opened up your contacts. But for some reason, instead of clicking on one of your friend's names, you kept scrolling further down, subconsciously searching for that specific name that you knew you should've just deleted a long time ago.
You clicked on the little phone icon, and listened attentively to the ringing on the other end. It rang and rang and rang, and it went on for so long that it almost snapped you out of the very stupid thing you were doing, but then–
"Hello?"
Leon actually answered. And even after all this time, his voice was still the most soothing sound in the world. You cleared your throat before attempting to put together a sentence in response.
"Hey… I'm… I'm, uh, in a gross bathroom at, um… fuck, what was the name of this place…" you trailed off, your cheeks heating up out of embarrassment. You rubbed your forehead, trying to think despite how hard it was to do.
Leon was silent for a bit on the other end before speaking up.
"___? Are you okay? It's… really late."
You chuckled, a burp coming out alongside the sound. "I know, right? What the fuck am I even doing here?"
"___, listen to me. Are you alright? Why did you call?" Leon asked. You could just faintly hear shuffling on the other end, and the unmistakable sound of keys jingling, as if he was already gathering his things before you even told him the location. Your heart fluttered at that and even more warmth was sent to your cheeks.
"No. No, I'm not alright. I feel really fucking sick right now and I don't know where my friends are and I fucking hate being here and-"
"Slow down, sweetheart," Leon said. If the alcohol didn't kill you, the pet name that Leon apparently still liked using for you would.
Leon fell quiet on the line, almost as if suddenly realizing the word that had slipped from his mouth.
"Sorry, I mean– look, tell me where you are. Do you want me to come and get you?"
There was a voice in your head screaming at you to just say no. Your friends were a text message away. If they saw the state you were in they'd take you home in a heartbeat. You knew the right thing to do was apologize to Leon, hang up, and get your ass out of the bathroom stall to find your group. But the alcohol was clouding your judgment, and the rational part of you simply didn't exist right now. Going back to Leon's apartment was like reopening a wound that had just healed. But you couldn't deny how much you needed him in this moment, no matter how pathetic it sounded. He had been on your mind the entire time you were at the club, and hell, even if you had been sober you probably would have ended up back at his place anyway. Because you simply didn't know how to stay away from things that you walked away from.
"Yes. Please come and get me." You replied softly, your words shaky with sorrow and guilt, your voice cracking.
"On my way. Stay put, okay?"
____
"___?"
Your eyes opened slowly. The side of your mouth felt wet with drool. Your brows furrowed as you took in your surroundings.
"___, are you in here?"
Your eyes widened a bit more upon registering whose voice was calling for you. You immediately sat up, trying to adjust your hair and straighten your shirt – before quickly giving up, because you knew no amount of adjusting would make you look like less of a hot mess.
"In here," you called out, not bothering to get up and open the door as your legs felt like they didn't work and any small movement would've caused you to expel your breakfast, lunch, and dinner.
You saw two feet stop right in front of the door. You recognized those boots anywhere. They were your favorite pair.
"Are you… decent? Can I open the door?" Leon asked. You nodded, before quickly realizing he can't hear the movement of your head.
"Yeah," you replied weakly. Leon did just that, opening the stall door slowly.
God, you wanted the ground to swallow you up right then and there. You knew you looked terrible, disgusting even. Your ex, on the other hand, still looked as gorgeous as ever, with his dirty blonde hair slightly longer than the last time you saw it and prettily falling into his deep blue eyes. He was wearing a form fitting black shirt that left nothing to the imagination with a pair of blue jeans and his expensive brown coat.
You averted your gaze out of pure embarrassment. Leon had never seen you in this state and you wish he hadn't. You wished you could turn back time and call your friends instead of him.
Leon kneeled in front of you in the cramped space, gently lifting your chin and making you look him in the eyes. The action only made you feel smaller.
"Hey, let me see you," he started, his gaze softening as he observed you.
"What happened? Nobody-" his jaw clenched. "Nobody did anything to you, right?"
You shook your head. You didn't trust your voice enough to speak.
"Okay, good. You just drank too much?"
You nodded that time.
Leon seemed physically relieved, his shoulders relaxing a bit as he stood back up. He held out his hand.
"Can you stand?" He asked. You muttered out something that sounded like a "yes," taking his hand and slowly rising off the toilet seat. You almost toppled over, but Leon was there to steady you.
"Put your arm around my shoulder." He instructed, but he was already moving your arm for you. You gladly took ahold of his shoulder as his hand held your wrist; his other arm was wrapped around your waist, holding you firmly. The two of you walked out of the bathroom together, ignoring the stares from other club goers.
The both of you made outside, and the cool air was a pleasant sensation to your extremely warm body. Leon helped you into your car, handling you like you were made of glass, before getting into the driver's side himself. He buckled you up first, leaning over you to pull the strap across your chest. His breath was fanning across your face, and you felt your heart rate skyrocket. You gazed at him with tired eyes, and he returned the eye contact briefly, his eyes mostly unreadable, but definitely filled with concern no less.
Once he was buckled up himself, he took off, and you just closed your eyes, hoping and praying that the motion of the car wouldn't cause any sudden hurling.
The car ride was mostly silent; aside from the radio that Leon had turned up slightly, playing some rock song, you were far too exhausted to say anything. You didn't even know what to say, anyway, and it seemed like Leon didn't either.
Eventually, when he stopped at a light, he spoke for the first time in several long minutes. "Your friends – did they abandon you?"
You shook your head. "No… I was the one who split from them. Told them I wanted to be alone."
"But they didn't even check on you?"
You glanced at him and noticed his tense jaw had returned, and his grip on the steering wheel tightened.
"They're all probably shit-faced, too." You replied dryly.
Leon sighed. "I… sure, I guess. Then that brings me to my next question… Why did you go over your limit? You could've put yourself in danger."
You shrugged, gazing out the window.
"I really don't know," you lied.
"God, ___, don't do something like this again. Please." Leon replied.
"I'm… sorry." You said. What you were apologizing for exactly, you weren't sure. For worrying him? For making him come all the way out here to save you like a damsel in distress? The more you thought about it, the more you leaned toward all of the above.
Leon seemed to relax again upon hearing your soft-spoken apology. "There's no need for that, I just…" a sigh. "You should rest. We're almost home."
Home.
You let your eyes slowly drift closed again. The last thing you saw was the sight of Leon driving with one hand, still wearing that unreadable expression.
____
Leon was quick to help you out the car after finding a parking spot. He guided you up the steps to the second floor of the complex, walking to his door. You leaned against him while he fiddled with his keys.
He eventually got the door open, helping you walk through the door. As he walked you through his living room to the bathroom, rather slowly as your feet were slightly dragging across the floor, you took in the familiar space around you. Leon's apartment was, of course, just how you remembered it. He had few decorations, most of them put up by you. His raggedy, but deceptively comfortable couch was somehow still standing strong. His place looked well lived-in; not terribly disorganized, just slightly cluttered. Given the nature of his career and how often he was away, he was never home long enough to let huge messes pile up anyway. You felt a smile tug at your lips as memories crawled back into your mind.
You remembered shopping with Leon for his decorations shortly after you moved in. He pretended to be indifferent, but you'll never forget the grin on his face as he helped you hang up some abstract paintings with poorly hidden amusement. That very couch was often where you spent your time resting your head on Leon's shoulders, or sometimes his head on your lap. The kitchen was where you and Leon made huge messes together, doing more kissing than cooking.
But your smile slightly faded as memories of the tail end of your relationship tainted your mind. Waiting alone for Leon to return home for a mission, worrying yourself sick. Sometimes Leon was distant, going from attentive and caring to cold and unresponsive in a heartbeat. You knew his trauma made it difficult for him to be fully present in the relationship – but sometimes you acted harshly anyway, both out of frustration and out of concern. His career was eating away at you, too.
The sound of running water pulled you out of your thoughts. You quickly registered that Leon had sat you down on his toilet. After wetting a washcloth, he leaned down in front of you again.
"I'm just gonna wipe your face, alright?" He said. You nodded, closing your eyes.
Leon wiped your face with the washcloth ever so gently, dabbing away dried drool and removing the light sweat that had formed across your forehead. He even went as far as to brush your teeth for you, thoroughly reaching every inch of your mouth to the best of his ability. Somehow, even during this, you found yourself dozing off a few times.
"You don't have to wash up now if you're too tired." Leon said once he had finished a portion of your nighttime routine for you. He stood in front of you while you were still seated, waiting for your next move.
You wanted nothing more than to wish the stink of the nightclub off your skin, but your eyelids were getting heavier by the second.
"Take me to bed, Leon." You muttered, wrapping your hands around his waist and leaning against his torso.
Leon found himself grinning at how much of a koala you became when sleepy and drunk. With one hand, he played with your hair for a bit as you continued holding him. You sighed contently as you felt yourself slip away in the sensation. Leon looked down at you, feeling something tug at his heart strings at how vulnerable you looked like this. The warmth from your arms around his waist brought Leon to a painful realization – that he missed your touch more than he thought.
Leon tried to store that thought away. You'd be gone by the morning, right? He couldn't allow himself to open up to you after all this time. You had made the choice to walk away and as far as he knew, you hadn't changed your mind.
He gently tapped your arms, causing you to stir a bit.
"If you want me to take you to bed, you have to get up first." He said teasingly. You groaned, but reluctantly did what he asked. Even while standing, your eyes were barely open.
"Do you wanna change?” He asked.
“Into what?” You said sleepily, words slurring together.
“I can give you one of my shirts and a pair of my pants. I don't mind.”
You just nodded, leaning into Leon's side, your head falling onto his shoulder.
Leon walked you to his bedroom, grabbing some clothes for you as you stood there patiently, your eyes half open. He gave you an old shirt of his and some gray sweatpants.
You began stepping out of your gross nightclub clothes right in front of Leon, who didn't seem to mind – he helped keep you from stumbling as you got dressed.
“This is so much better.” You said, feeling free and unconstrained now that you were out of those awful leather pants. Leon found himself holding back a grin at the way you were happily rubbing at the fabric of his shirt.
“Let's get you to bed.” He spoke.
He assisted you in getting cozy under the large comforter, even going as far as to tuck you in.
Leon's scent washed over you as you sunk into the softness of his mattress. You almost instantly succumbed to slumber, subconsciously burying your head into Leon's pillow.
For a long time, Leon just stared.
You were safe now, finally out of that awful nightclub and resting comfortably. He felt the tension leave his body, and he could finally go about his nightly routine at ease knowing you were taken care of.
Seeing you in his bed like this reminded him of the nights he came home late. Those nights, he'd crawl into bed next to you, holding you close as if you'd disappear into thin air. Strangely, despite the fact that he was looking directly at you, this was another moment where he felt like you'd cease to exist if he so much as looked away.
But he eventually forced himself to look away, sighing to himself as he went back to the bathroom to freshen up himself. He decided to sleep on the couch, falling asleep with you in his mind and still feeling the phantom touch of your arms around his waist.
____
Upon slowly opening your eyes, squinting slightly at the sunlight filtering through the room, it didn't take you long to notice the splitting headache that pulsated uncomfortably right behind your eyes. You also took note of the fact that you were clad in Leon's clothing.
You pinched the bridge of your nose, your face bunching up in pain at your awful hangover. You were mentally chastising yourself, as you knew that this terrible headache could've been easily avoided had you not gone past your limit the night before. It was at the moment, as you were lying on your back and staring at the familiar sight of Leon's apartment ceiling, that all of the memories from last night came rushing back to you.
You felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment, feeling a sense of shame wash over you. You barely remember anything from last night, but you knew that when you were shit-faced you turned into a giant child, and you were already feeling apologetic for putting Leon through your drunken antics. You didn't even want to get out of bed and face the man.
So, you did just that; you lied there for a few extra minutes, absolutely dreading the moment when you would have to get up eventually. You sighed, rolling over on your side, facing the closed bedroom door. It was then that you noticed the tall glass of water and bottle of painkillers on the bedside table.
You sat up slowly, feeling your heart warm at Leon's thoughtfulness. You took one pill from the bottle, swallowing it down in one large gulp of water.
You also noticed your phone on the table. Curiously, you checked to see if your phone was even alive – which it was, much to your surprise, but the battery was low. You saw numerous text messages from your acquaintances last night. Some of them were just talking about how much fun they had and thanking you for coming out. Others seem concerned about where you had gone. You didn't feel like replying to any of them, so you promptly shut your phone off. You needed to save your battery, anyway, as you didn't have a charger. You left your phone in its place on the table.
You sat in Leon's bed for a little longer after that, sighing to yourself, before getting up to go find where he was.
You didn't have to look very far after opening the door; there Leon stood in the kitchen, occupied with making breakfast. It seemed like he didn't notice your presence at first, so you took that opportunity to gaze at him, grinning softly at the concentrated look on his face as he flipped over a pancake, his hair falling into his eyes. He looked cuter than ever, clad in his well-loved plaid pajama pants and a loose black shirt. It felt strange, seeing him like this again after so many months.
“Morning, sleepyhead.” Leon suddenly spoke, still turned away from you. You were slightly startled, quickly averting your gaze.
“Morning,” you said softly. “Did you know I was standing here the whole time?”
“Of course I did,” Leon replied, finally turning to you with a pretty smile on his face, one that you couldn't help but immediately return. “Government training helped me with my awareness, y'know.”
You chuckled at that, making your way over to the dining table and taking a seat. Resting your chin in your hand, you watched Leon lovingly, a comfortable silence settling between you.
“Need a hand with anything?” you asked.
“Nah, it's alright. I'm almost done, anyway.” Leon replied. “By the way, how did you sleep?”
“Like a baby. I forgot how comfortable your bed was.” you said.
Leon grinned. “That's good. And your head?”
“It's feeling better. Thanks for the medicine, by the way.”
“Of course.” Leon replied.
Eventually, he carried to the table two plates of food, along with two tall glasses of orange juice. It was a simple breakfast, consisting of just pancakes, but it was totally fine by you. They looked fluffy and perfectly cooked and you didn't hesitate to dive in.
Leon just watched you eat in silence, a small grin on his face as he watched you do a little happy dance upon taking a bite. He wasn't really showing it, but he was very pleased with himself; not just because he made you a decent plate of pancakes but because you were here with him, out of that grimy nightclub, content and being taken care of. Leon felt a tug at his heartstrings as he realized just how much he missed taking care of you.
“Leon. Are you gonna eat?” you said with a chuckle, nearly done with your food. Leon seemed to snap out of whatever trance you had put him in, quickly glancing at his untouched plate of food.
“Yeah. Sorry.” He said in a slightly bashful way that made you swoon. He finally had begun eating, thoughtfully chewing, taking his time.
You leaned back in your chair, feeling completely satiated. For a while, the two of you just sat in comfortable silence. It dawned on you that eventually you'd have to leave, sadness beginning to wash over you like waves.
“What's the matter?” Leon suddenly spoke. “Be honest, were the pancakes actually terrible?” He said jokingly. That got you smiling again, and you let out a small, half-hearted laugh.
“Leon, they were fucking amazing,” you replied sincerely. You smiled then faltered a bit. “I just… I still feel bad.”
Leon, who was also sitting lax in his chair, had straightened up, his eyebrows furrowing slightly as he gazed warmly at you.
“About?” He inquired.
You sighed, looking down at your lap. Suddenly eye contact was too much right now.
“For last night. I know I've already apologized but… seriously, I'm really sorry for making you drive all the way out there. And for worrying you.”
Leon shook his head, looking at you with an expression that could only be read as sympathetic.
“I've said it before and I'll say it again – you don't have to apologize, okay? If anything, I'm glad you called me. It meant that you trusted me to ensure your safety; and that made me feel good.”
You felt your heart warm at that. You continued to stare down at your lap, twiddling your thumbs, still hesitant to let him into your gaze.
“Can you look at me? Please?” Leon said ever so softly. The gentle, almost desperate tone of voice was enough to get you to finally raise your head and meet his eyes.
“There you are,” he said fondly. “I want you to know that you can always call me. For anything. And if you need me, I'll be there. We're not… together anymore but that doesn't mean I'm just gonna step out of your life, okay? I still care about you. Always will.”
You were effectively silenced, so deeply touched by Leon's words that you couldn't even produce any of your own. Suddenly your vision began to blur and your bottom lip was quivering.
Your friends – really, just your co-workers – who had practically forgotten about you at that club? They probably didn't care about you all like they claimed to. But if there was one person that would always stand up for you, help you, tend to your needs – it was Leon. It had always been him.
With a shaky voice, you responded, “Thank you, Leon. I… still care about you, too. So much. I totally owe you after last night.” you said with a playful smile, although you were honestly very serious.
“No, it's okay. You don't owe me anything. I was just doing what a good friend is supposed to do.”
Friend.
You brushed the word off, ignoring the pang of disappointment that hit you. You simply smiled at him.
Clearing your throat, you started another topic. “So, um… I guess since I'm here, we should catch up a bit. It's been so long since I've last spoken to you.”
Leon shrugged. “Honestly? I don't have much to catch you up on. I've just been doing what I always do, lounging around, working, occasionally going out with Claire and Chris. You know me, I'm a boring guy.”
“You are not at all boring, Kennedy,” you said teasingly.
“You know, it's okay to admit it.” He replied, and you could only shake your head, laughing quietly to yourself.
“You're literally a government agent. That's the opposite of boring.”
“Well, what a lot of people don't know is that being a government agent also comes with a shit-ton of paperwork.”
“I suppose,” you said with a completely playful roll of your eyes. “Anyway, Claire and her brother doing well?”
“They're doing great. They're always asking about you.”
You felt guilt begin to rear its ugly head at Leon's comment. “I haven't spoken to them in a while too… God, I'm terrible.” You said.
“Hey, don't make it a huge deal. They know how busy you are. They still care about you too. You could go a thousand years without speaking to them and they'd still be excited to hear from you.”
“That's nice to know.” You replied. You made it a mental note to get in contact with them soon.
The dining table fell quiet again. There was this undeniable tension in the air, one that the two of you couldn't shake. As much as you hated to admit it, you had missed sitting at Leon's dining table, sitting across from him specifically, sharing peaceful mornings together. You knew that eventually you'd have to leave; you'd part ways with Leon once more. You wish you could say that'd be easy to do.
Leon pulled you out of the recesses of your mind when he suddenly stood up, grabbing the two plates and cups. You silently watched as he went over to the sink, turning on the faucet.
Without even thinking, you stood up as well, joining him in the kitchen.
“Let me help you,” you said, not even giving him the choice.
Leon shook his head, like you knew he would. “It's alright, I got it. I know you've probably got things to do, so I understand if you need to go-”
“Things to do? Like what?” You interrupted with a playful grin. “I want to help, Leon, please.”
“It's only a few dishes.”
“I know– look, stop being so stubborn and let me help. Please.” You said, taking a plate out of his hand and grabbing a washcloth to help with drying. Leon just chuckled, having paused his washing for a bit to admire you.
“You haven't changed.” He spoke.
“What do you mean?” You asked as you put the plate back in its respective cabinet. You didn't even need to ask where it went – it was muscle memory for you.
“I mean… always wanting to help with stuff. It's what I've always liked about you.” Leon replied, handing you a newly washed cup. You took it, slowly, still processing his words. You felt a certain warmth throughout your body, trying to distract yourself from the feeling by rather furiously drying the glass.
“That's just how I am. Can't help it.” You replied shyly, your voice coming out small.
“I know. You should consider being an agent since you like helping so much.” Leon teased. You were putting the glass up when he had said that and weren't looking directly at him, but you could hear the smirk in his voice. It made you smile.
“Absolutely not.” You replied immediately, to which the both of you broke out into laughter, the sound filling the kitchen.
The two of you finished doing the dishes fairly quickly, falling into an easy rhythm. It all felt too familiar. The both of you fell into your usual banter so easily, and it was almost like you two hadn't just spent months apart.
You ended up helping Leon clean his entire kitchen after the dishes, chatting with him every second and moving around each other with the sort of ease you can only get when you've spent enough time in one place to memorize everything. You told Leon that you didn't mind helping him knock out a few chores, which was true; you knew how busy he was and how he was usually too tired to take care of things like this himself. But deep down, the true reason why you were still here was because you just didn't want to leave. But you kept that part buried within you. It was difficult coming to terms with what that meant and you didn't want to think about it.
“Does anything else need tidying?” You asked him once you finished wiping the kitchen counter. Leon looked around, seemingly thinking for a moment, before shaking his head.
“Nah, it's all good. But I appreciate it.”
Your grin faltered a bit. You knew you had to go. You had been here for hours now.
“Ah, okay,” you said, trying to hide the dejection in your voice. “Well, um… I guess I should get out of your hair then.”
Leon perked up at that. “You don't have to leave.” He said quickly. He then cleared his throat, looking away. “I mean, uh– if you don't want to, you can stay as long as you want.”
You wanted to more than anything else. But the right thing would be to leave, even though that went against your heart's desires. Who knows what you'd end up saying– or doing– if you stayed. Whatever it'd be, you'd probably regret it.
“I should really go.” You said quietly. Leon just silently nodded. His expression was unreadable yet again.
After making sure you had all your belongings, and unfortunately having to change back into your cursed club outfit for the time being, you now stood in front of the door. Leon had changed out of his pajamas too, looking as handsome as ever in a simple pair of jeans, a black shirt, and boots.
Since your friends had driven you to the club, and Leon drove you to his place, he'd have to drive you back. You were waiting for him after he had said he had to find his keys. You took one long, final glance around his house as you stood there with a heavy heart.
Quite a bit of time had passed, though, and you were about to call out to Leon, as you noticed he seemed to be taking longer than you expected. You figured he just needed help searching for his keys, so you jogged over to his bedroom, where you saw him enter.
When you walked in, he was kneeling in front of a cardboard box. His closet door was open, so you presumed that's where the box came from. Your brows pinched together in confusion.
“Leon? I can help with finding your keys-”
“Oh, I have my keys. I just, um… suddenly remembered something.” He said, a bit cryptically.
You were still visibly puzzled. “Remembered what?” you asked, walking a bit closer to see the contents of the box. And then you realized.
In the box was some jewelry of yours, one of your shirts, and a bottle of perfume that you had forgotten at his home ages ago.
Your heart warmed at the fact that Leon kept them safe and tucked away in his closet, almost as if he was waiting for the day to return them to you.
“I completely forgot about these,” he said, standing up to face you. He rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry. I've been meaning to give these back.”
You just smiled, feeling so incredibly touched and endeared.
“It's okay, Leon. I didn't even realize I was missing these items.” You said with a chuckle. You kneeled down yourself, sifting through the contents of the box and reminiscing. The perfume especially reminded you of so many date nights and all the times Leon told you how nice you smelled.
“You know, that reminds me,” You began, feeling the cotton of your old, worn t-shirt that lay perfectly folded in the box. “I think I still have one of your sweatshirts. The old RPD one.”
You knew you did. It was still in your closet, hidden away. Not forgotten, just out of sight.
“You can keep it.” Leon said. “You looked better in it anyway.”
You felt that familiar heat rush to your face again. Even after all this time, his words still affected you.
“Well, um… thanks.” You replied.
“It's nothing.”
You stood up, holding the box, and the two of you walked back to the door. Every step felt heavier than the last.
You watched as Leon was about to open the door for you. But in that moment, as he was about to turn the knob, something within you snapped.
“Wait.” You said.
Leon paused, turning to look at you. “Did– did you forget something?” He asked.
You shook your head. You slowly put the box down on the floor, gently kicking it aside.
“I don't wanna leave, Leon.”
Leon still seemed perplexed. “I told you, you can stay as long as you-”
“No, I mean… I'm not leaving… again.”
It didn't take long for the realization to hit Leon. He was silent for a bit, unsure of how to proceed, or what to say.
“I need you to be more clear.” He said simply.
You stepped closer to him. You nearly reached your hand out, wanting to gently stroke his hair like you always used to do, but you weren't sure if he was ready to jump back into physical affection like that. You restrained yourself.
“I want to try again, Leon. I'm so sorry for how I treated you. At the time, I didn't understand your trauma – I failed to accommodate you. When I left… I realized how shitty I had been. How much I had missed you. I dated other people and none of them gave me what you did. You were too good to me and I was too selfish. I'm sorry, and I want you to know that I've grown. I will try my best to meet you where you are from now on if you just let me back in.”
You said all of this while staring directly into Leon's captivating eyes, sincerity in your tone and in the way you gazed at him. You hoped Leon could feel your guilt. Your remorse.
Leon just stared back, stunned into silence. You could tell his mind was racing, searching for what to say, processing everything you had told him. You were prepared for him to say no. You were bracing for the heartbreak. You wouldn't be upset, no. You'd be understanding. You were ready to leave for good if that's what he wanted.
But heartbreak isn't what you got.
“Thank you. For apologizing.” Leon said. “I should, too. I wasn't being totally honest about my line of work. And dating a government agent isn't necessarily an easy thing to handle. It was probably traumatic for you, too, seeing me come home so damaged, physically and mentally.
“And for the record, I don't think you were being selfish. You wanted to help, I know you did, you just didn't know how and it was frustrating.”
You felt a stinging sensation in your eyes, your emotions nearly meeting their boiling point, tears threatening to spill. Deep down, you didn't think Leon had anything to apologize for, considering everything he's been through and seen, but you were appreciative of his apology nonetheless. It warmed your heart to know that he never resented you when you were together, like you always thought he did.
“So… should we try this again?” you said, a playful glint in your watery eyes.
Leon grinned. “We should.”
At that, you couldn't hold back any longer. You went in for a hug, wrapping your arms around his neck snugly. He wasted no time in wrapping his around your waist. Being back in his arms again felt like a dream.
You brought a hand up to his hair, running your fingers through it. You felt Leon relax even more at the soft touch.
With your lips close to his ear, you whispered:
“I never stopped loving you.”
Leon pulled away a bit, his hands just lightly resting on your waist.
“Neither did I.”
A pause. You felt his breath fan across your face.
“Can I kiss you?” You asked, already grinning like a lovesick teenager.
“Please.” Was all Leon said before you leaned in, your lips finding purchase on top of his, bodies pressed close together.
You had a hunch that making yourself at home again wouldn't be difficult at all.
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Text
Part Of Me
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Alexia please come back, the kids and I miss you 💔
No request for this one, only from my imagination. Enjoy!
TW : Mention of abusive relation, a little of angst I guess
______________________________________________________________
Since joining FC Barcelona a few months ago, you have become the biggest plot for your teammates. Before signing in Barcelona, you were under contract with PSG but you had not set foot on the football fields since months because of an injury. Your signing with the Barcelona club surprised a lot of people since you had not proven yourself for a long time, your absence falling at the worst time, just before the eventual renewal of your contract in the French capital.
But it's now in Barcelona that you evolve and your discretion foolproof intrigues your teammates a lot. You are almost never present at organized parties and if you didn't arrive late at regular intervals, you would probably be almost transparent. Not in the field that said and fortunately. Since you're goalkeeper and a turn is made between the other goalkeepers and you, you don't participate in all the matches and you are not called every week. This undoubtedly adds to the shadow that characterizes you.
Alexia cannot tell if it's this part of the mystery that draws her gaze irremediably on you. But still, she regularly surprises herself by letting her eyes slide on you during training, something that Mapi hasn't missed. She doesn’t hesitate to tease her best friend on the subject, Alexia standing up to her every time by telling her that it’s just that she's intrigued by the shadows around you.
It's the truth, but but there is more. When you aren't officially summoned to the matches, you nevertheless attend them in the stands. This is where you exchanged your first words with Alexia, first turned on football before the conversations became lighter. You’ve noticed that Alexia sometimes tries to learn more about your private life, but you’ve always managed to avoid her questions.
********
"Sorry, sorry, I’m late" you apologize to Jonatan, coming running into the weight room, jumping on one leg to put on your second shoes.
Mapi bows an eyebrow towards Alexia who shrugs her shoulders, when your coach apologizes you with a vague wave of the hand before asking you to join Ona to be her training partner. She greets you with a little smile and Alexia can hear her ask you if everything is okay. You answer her with a positive smile, before focusing on the requested exercises.
"It’s so weird. No one ever scolds her" mumbles Mapi towards Alexia. "When I'm late I have to run at least five laps."
Alexia shrugs her shoulders without answering, turning her gaze on Mapi when she elbows her.
"Stop staring at her for two seconds, everyone will catch you"
"Leave her alone, Maria" Ingrid scolds her, triggering a little cute argument between the two.
Alexia takes advantage of the exchange between the two women to shift her attention back to you. You look tired this morning and she wonders what made your night complicated. Do you suffer from insomnia? She doesn’t know anything about your life, doesn’t know if you have a boyfriend or girlfriend.
"Did you offer to come tonight?" Ingrid asks Alexia nicely.
"She received the message about the Whatsapp group like everyone else, but I don’t think she replied"
"Go ask her directly. Maybe she’s just shy?"
Alexia bites her lip as she hears Ingrid’s attempt to guess your behavior. It’s true that if we compare you to Mapi or Lucy, you are rather the opposite of them in terms of character. Alexia herself doesn't participate in parties when it involves going to a nightclub, but comes willingly when it comes to film evenings organized at someone's house.
"I can try" ended up answering Alexia thoughtfully, her eyes on you again.
As usual at the end of the training, you are the first to be dressed and ready to go. You are always polite and smiling with everyone, but you give the constant impression of having hundreds of things to do outside of games and practice.
But Alexia beat you in speed this time and she catches you when you walk along the corridors to return to your car.
"Hey, Y/N?"
You turn to her and smile at her when she arrives at your height, giving her an interrogative look.
"I was wondering if you were coming to Aitana’s tonight? You didn’t answer in the groupchat."
"Oh… no, I don’t think I can, I'm sorry"
You feel a little guilty about saying no, but you don’t really have a choice. Your regrets are sincere and it seems to have caught Alexia’s attention. The blonde bites her lip when she resumes speaking, playing nervously with her bracelet.
"It’s sad. I just… I mean, I’d really like you to come."
This surprises you and you look at her for a few seconds as you continue to walk, wondering if she's mocking you. But no, she seems sincere and you even find yourself blushing a little.
"I’ll see what I can do to free myself if that can makes you happy" you end up answering in a low voice.
"Really?"
"Yeah"
You are surprised by the big smile that appears on your captain’s face, but it's nothing compared to the one you feel when she approaches you to put a kiss on your cheek. Alexia turns her heels and in a whirlwind of blonde hair, she disappeared.
"So?" Mapi asks Alexia when she drops by her side, back in the locker room, putting her head in her hands.
"It’s a disaster. She’s gonna think I’m the weirdest person in the world."
"What are you other than that anyway?" snorts Mapi, before receiving a slap behind the head from her girlfriend.
********
When you arrive in front of Aitana, you find yourself hesitating before pressing the bell. You have never participated in this kind of party and even if everyone is very nice to you, you don't know if you will feel comfortable with them outside the field.
"Can’t find the doorbell?"
Lucy’s amused voice sounds behind you and you turn to see her arrive in the company of Ona. You find yourself mumbling some excuse, but you are quickly diverted from what you want to answer by the quick embrace that the English offers you before ringing. You also greet Ona and finally you are happy not to arrive alone.
Aitana comes to open you shortly after and greets you in turn with an embrace to each. A big smile spreads on her face when she sees you and you find yourself having the right to a full visit of her home. This allows you to see those who are already present and until you enter the living room, you feel a slight disappointment not to see Alexia. But the blonde is installed on the sofa in the living room, next to Irene, when you get there.
Your eyes cross quickly and you respond timidly to her smile before answering Aitana that you want to drink anything as long as it's not alcoholic. Your Fanta in hand, you return to the living room without really knowing where to sit. But you don't hesitate long since you suddenly find yourself facing Alexia, also a drink in the hand.
"It’s great that you could come" smiled Alexia looking at you
You nod, not being able to stop yourself from realizing that Alexia is as beautiful off the field as in her football kit. Her blonde hair falls out of cascade around her face and her dress look is particularly attractive to your taste.
"I wouldn't have wished to grieve my Captain" you answer with a slight smile.
Alexia doesn't answer and an emotion that you cannot describe passes through her eyes, before she continues on another topic of conversation. Some of your teammates will come to mingle with you, Cata and Sandra in particular, as you train together as goalkeepers, but you will mainly spend your early evening with Alexia. The rest too, since you find yourself sitting next to her when the film you have gathered for begins. Usually, you don’t allow yourself to think about any attraction that you might have for someone else, but you have to admit that if you have to put someone at the top of the list, it would be Alexia. You find yourself struggling with sensations that you shouldn’t feel when her knee grazes yours, making you feel like a teenager experiencing her first crush. At the end of the film, you get up to join Aitana in her kitchen, embarking on the passage of dirty dishes to facilitate her task. "I’m sorry, but I have to go" you announce with a slight smile. You don’t like the idea of leaving first, but you don’t really have a choice. "Don’t worry, it’s good that you could come. It’s a pleasure to have you with us" she assures you before offering you an embrace. "Are you leaving already?" Alexia’s voice resounds behind you and you turn in her direction, to explain to her too that you have no choice. "For once it's not you who leaves first" Aitana laughs in the direction of Alexia. The Spanish woman smiles and puts dishes in Aitana’s sink before resuming speaking. "I’ll leave too. I have an interview tomorrow before practice." With that, you find yourself saying goodbye to your teammates at the same time and leaving Aitana’s home together. When you find yourself outside, you offer a hug to Alexia to say goodbye, finding you troubled by her smell. You shiver when you feel her stroking your back and you suddenly realize the warmth of her body against yours, the softness of her skin, her hair that pleasantly caresses your face. And more intimately her chest against yours.
"It was nice to spend time with you outside the stadium" says Alexia.
Her mouth is right next to your ear since she still hasn’t released you. You quickly detach from her, feeling how disturbed you are by her closeness. But Alexia doesn’t release you completely, as if she wanted to enjoy this embrace a little longer. Your faces are only a few inches apart when your eyes cross and you wonder how you could never get lost in her honey-hazelnut eyes before that.
You don’t know how long your eye exchange lasts or what Alexia can read in yours. What you know is that when she slowly approaches her face from yours, you can’t resist the call of her lips. The kiss is sweet and delicate, Alexia gives you the impression that you are made of glass and ready to break into a thousand pieces. Which is probably the case.
You are breathless when you end the kiss, amazement taking precedence over the rest. Alexia Putellas has just kissed you.
"I.. I have to go" you stutter before you run away to your car.
The implicit rule asking everyone to send a message about the group when they come back, you simply send a "Home!" when you are, but you hurry to ignore your phone after that.
********
"It’s been three days and she never came back to training"
Sitting at the kitchen table of Mapi and Ingrid, Alexia ruminates her mixture of despair and questioning. She doesn't understand why you reacted in this way to your kiss, especially since you answered it and even extended it. She doesn't understand your disappearance after that and how you can be so traumatized that you simply decided to skip training.
Thanks to her title of captain, Alexia knows that it's officially for illness reasons that you didn't put a finger in the Barcelona stadium. But she can’t believe it.
Alexia is seated facing Mapi in front of a cup of coffee that she has not touched while Ingrid prepares a meal for them to regain strength after their training. The couple take Alexia here, touched by her distress.
"Maybe you're a very bad kisser?" laughs at Mapi, before abruptly shutting up when she receives a slap behind the head from her girlfriend.
"Stop doing that!" whines Mapi.
"Stop teasing your bestfriend!" answers back Ingrid
"Do you think so?" asked Alexia, ignoring their little fight, turning her head sharply towards the tattooed woman.
"Of course not, I'm sure it has nothing to do with it" intervenes Ingrid by raising rolling her eyes.
"How can you know that?" Mapi sulks, crossing her arms on her chest.
"I should never have kissed her" sighs Alexia before letting her forehead go against the wooden table in an alarming thud.
Mapi rolls her eyes in front of her best friend’s despair as Ingrid puts three plates on the table.
"What is done is done, you cannot change anything. On the other hand you can move your ass a little to make things better" replies the blonde, grabbing her cutlery.
"What do you mean?"
Alexia’s curious gaze rises on her best friend, but it is once again Ingrid who answers, the other blonde now having her mouth full of food.
"Go to her. You don’t need an excuse, just tell her the truth. That you’re worried about her."
Mapi simply agrees with Ingrid’s proposal and points to the Norwegian with her fork, nodding harshly. Basically, Ingrid isn't wrong, at least that’s what Alexia says when she looks out the window. "It’s still strange this behavior, to want to go home as soon as she finished training or matches." Alexia sighs thoughtfully before widening her eyes. "What if she’s married? You think I kissed a married woman?" "Oh god" sighs Ingrid as Mapi stands up on her chair abruptly. "Imagine she’s married to someone abusive? That would explain why she has so little freedom." "Okay, stop now" Ingrid intervenes again. "Alexia eats and goes to see her. And you, shut up" Mapi groans and shifts her attention to her plate, but nevertheless obeys quickly. Alexia also grabs her fork, thoughtfully thanking the brunette for her cooking. A few hours later, Alexia finds herself in front of an apartment on the ground floor of a residential area, where you live. It’s a bit out of town, but that doesn’t surprise her. In her opinion, it fits well with the discretion that characterizes you. After hesitating for a few more seconds, Alexia finally presses the doorbell button. It takes you a few minutes to answer, your surprise displayed on your face when you find yourself facing Alexia. You don't open the door entirely, sliding only your face by the interscice, which once again intrigues the blonde. She runs through your face with her eyes and it's true that you look tired. You have dark circles, drawn lines and your hair is styled in a messy bun. "Ale?" "Sorry to barge in like this without warning but uh... can we talk?"
You bite your lip while looking at her, apparently hesitating how you will answer her. This again makes Alexia mad with worry. What if Mapi was right? But you end up nodding, before going out the apartment after taking a look inside and gently closing the door behind you. It wasn’t what Alexia expected.
"I just wanted to make sure you were okay"
Alexia talks nervously, realizing that you will not speak first.
"Oh… yes, I'm okay. I mean… the disease, all that" you mumble and shrug.
La Reina remains silent for long seconds, so long that you end up looking up at her face. You see her looking at you attentively and you find yourself foolishly blushing. The memory of your kiss has stuck in your head all these days and you have to use all your concentration capacity not to look at her lips.
"Listen Y/N, if your absence is related to what happened at the end of the evening…"
"Oh… no, I… it’s nothing to do with that, I promise"
You find yourself stuttering again and you hate yourself for it. If you wanted to give Alexia a good impression, you can hardly do worse.
"So what is it? To be honest, I can’t believe you’re sick. If something happens or you need help, you know we’re here for you? The others and myself, too"
You find it hard to support her gaze and you find yourself looking over her shoulder again. Without knowing what to say.
"Y/N"
The way she says your name in a mixture of tenderness and affection would have been enough to give you chills, but the fact that she touches your cheek with her fingers supports the sensation. That works though, your eyes quickly turning over on her face. But you step back, remembering that you can’t let go with her that way.
Which is terribly frustrating. Alexia seems to think the same, her eyes letting pass a burst of disappointment or rejection before she recovers. "I can’t. Not yet." You speak as well of any rapprochement with her as of a confession on your part. But Mapi’s assumption quickly comes back to Alexia’s mind and she gently takes your arm in her hand. "Is someone hurting you?" The surprise that appears on your face is so sincere that Alexia quickly understands that they have gone wrong. But it’s a relief and it’s comforting a few seconds before the frustration comes back. What would stop you from confiding in her if it wasn’t that? "No one is hurting me" you answer softly, though touched by Alexia’s level of worry. "It’s just that I don’t think I’m fit to get into a relationship right now, Ale. It wouldn’t be interesting for you for one second, much more annoying and constraining than anything else." "You can’t or you don't want to?" Alexia asks, almost ignoring what you just said. The answer you’re going to give Alexia will probably change a lot what she’s going to tell you in return, you know it perfectly. You could lie to her, but when you find yourself once again immersed in hwe eyes, you are incapable. Sighing slowly, you decide to tell her the truth. "I can’t." Obviously, this is the answer Alexia was hoping for, you realize it quickly when she steps in your direction. As delicately as before, her fingers stroke your face and you briefly close your eyes to reopen them when you feel her forehead leaning against yours. "Whatever it is, Y/N. I’m sure you’re worth it." When you shake your head in a negative way, it doesn’t seem to impress her. "Let me decide?" adds Alexia.
The seconds that pass while your brain turns a thousand an hour are torture for Alexia, but for you too. You know perfectly well that Alexia will leave when she understands. But the blonde adds a "Please" begging and you can no longer stand up to her.
So you finally accept, gently opening the door of your apartment to invite Alexia to enter. From your point of view, your apartment isn't exceptional, but you surprise the captain to look around in an intriguing way. However, this is not where she will understand what keeps you in many things in your life.
Without really thinking about your gesture, you take her hand to take her upstairs and open the door of a room. And the least we can say is that Alexia didn't expect that to be in front of her.
A children’s room in beige and sky blue colors in which there is the complete necessary for a baby. A changing table, a wardrobe, pictures of animals and a cradle with a mobile installed above. The cradle is occupied, Alexia realizes it quickly. She looks at you to ask your permission to approach and you smile at her to confirm that she can do so.
You will never forget the first time Alexia laid eyes on your son. A mixture of wonder and tenderness that takes your breath away. Deeply asleep in his bed, unlike the previous three nights, his stuffed rabbit tight against his face and thumb in the mouth, your baby seems particularly relaxed. Alexia spends long seconds looking at him before shifting her attention to you.
For your part, you didn't leave her sight for a single second, regretting not being able to read her thoughts. You signal her to follow you outside the room with a nod and Alexia obeys without being asked.
Back in the living room, you feel like you’re hearing her brain scrambling.
"I guess you have questions?"
Alexia sat in front of you on one of your sofas and looked at you thoughtfully for a few moments. Her fingers mechanically caress her lower lip, which you’ve noticed she does when what she thinks is intense.
"You have a child"
"Yes"
"And you’re married?"
You’re just shaking your head negatively this time.
"In a relationship?"
"Nope"
"I don't understand"
You sigh softly and let yourself go against the back of the sofa on which you were installed on the edge so that you can better observe Alexia. The situation is complicated and that’s partly why you didn’t tell anyone.
"His father left as soon as he learned of the pregnancy. It was not planned at all and my former club agreed to mask my pregnancy with an injury. My contract was coming to an end and it was the deal we made. I was thinking about quitting my career after giving birth, but Barcelona contacted me to offer me a contract before the summer. I refused without explaining why and they insisted" you explain, slightly frowned. You still don’t understand their interest. "So I finally told them the truth. The leaders and Jonatan are aware and they offered to help me rather than give up"
Alexia remains silent throughout your explanation but a small smile is drawn and accentuated as your story. You deduce that it's because of the behavior of her club who is in line with her own personal values, until she resumes speaking.
"Well thanks for sharing this with me, but that’s not what I don’t understand" she said without masking her amusement, before getting up to sit next to you. You follow her with your eyes, in turn a little lost. "What I don’t understand is why you think the fact that you have a child would stop me from being interested in you"
So this one, you didn't expect it. You remain frozen on your sofa, blinking at her.
"Well… I barely have time to come train with you, I can never join you for evenings… How could I have time for you?"
"Is it now that I remind you that I am the most homebody of the team and that I am called Grandma because I go to bed early?"
You smile softly as you hear her answer punctuated by a touch of humor. Her amused smile increases your own fun and you feel a heat wave spread throughout your body as she mixes her fingers with yours.
"What’s his name?"
"Romeo" you answer
"It's cute" she smiles before resuming speaking. "But I'm sure we can make it work. I don't mind if our dates are in your house and I can still pass time with you when your son is here... If you're ok with that of course"
When she sees you bite your lips, Alexia take both of your hand in hers, searching for your eyes.
"I really like you and I don't think that your son will make things complicated. I can't wait to meet him. I'm serious with it, if you let me in, I won't let you down. Never."
"Just kiss me again."
Alexia looks shocked for two seconds, before leaning in and obliged. People always talk about the first kiss, the sensations it gives. But you find that the second one is underestimated too much. That of the confirmation. The second kiss Alexia offers you is as tender and delicate as the first, without the fear of being pushed back. Which you obviously don’t do this time, even shyly sliding a hand on his neck to prolong your exchange.
This lasts a few minutes, before baby crying sounds upstairs, interrupting your moment.
"I hope you’re ready, because it’s only the beginning" you smile maliciously against his lips.
********
alexiaputellas
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alexiaputellas We fell in love in October 🤍🎶
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YourInstagram ❤️
irene.paredes amo a ambos
fan1 Who's hand is it? ↳ fan3 it's me don't worry ↳ fan5 I feel like it's Y/N, they seems really close in the lasts after games ↳ fan6 she put an heart in the comment section too ↳ fan7 So is Mapi ↳ fan5 Mapi is with Ingrid, don't be stupid ↳ marialeonn16 Yeah, don't be stupid
fan2 I thought she was single?!
fan4 Alexia you naughty secret girl
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yourinstagram You look so pretty and I love this view 🎶❤️
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marialeonn16 please send thanks to your photographer ↳ alexiaputellas muchas gracias Mapi ↳ fan1 OMG WAIT WHAT ↳ fan3 I TOLD YOU I FUCKING TOLD YOU FDKSFHJAFKJAL
alexiaputellas 🤍🤍🤍
fan4 Not Y/N and Alexia breaking the Internet
ona.batlle ❤️
yourinstagram and alexiaputellas
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yourinstagram The loves of my life 💙❤️
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alexiaputellas te amo mucho 🥹🤍 liked by you
ingrid_engen 🫶❤️
elialexiaalba mis corazones
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alexiaputellas Ready to watch Mami and Mama tonight ⚽👀
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jenni.hermoso he's growing up so fast 😭 
marialeonn16 remember me to offer him a Maria Leon jersey for his birthday ↳ alexiaputellas He won't wear it ↳ marialeonn16 of course he will, I'm her favorite ↳ lucybronze We all know that it's Ingrid
______________________________________________________________
For real it was in my draft for so long because I wasn't able to find a name for this baby 😭 
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ilovetopgunsstuff · 1 month
Text
overrated- jb
pov- another guy gets too handsy at the nightclub
warnings- flufffffff, tw almost gets violent but not really, rowdy misogynist at the bar idk
a/n- sorry about my absence guys! did you miss me? it’s been a wild few months. this one may be a bit rusty sorry, hoping to get more active but will still be slow to reqs, enjoy and as always give some feedback!! 💟💟
if you haven’t already, check out my masterlist!
Things had been a bit tense the past few days. Joe was stressed about stuff at work, you were stressed about stuff at home, so an argument was inevitable. It came soon enough. Joe completely forgot that he had his own friend’s birthday party tonight, leaving you to walk him through everything he had to do to get ready. He was a grown man, but sometimes it didn’t feel like it.
The party was at a club, so you were dressing accordingly. Tonight was supposed to be fun and carefree. You told him to get ready to leave at 8, and you hoped for your sanity that he was. You knew that he was tired from work, but this was his friend, not yours. At least you weren’t the one who had to pick out a present. Oh God. The present.
“Joe!” you shouted from the bathroom.
There was a hum in response from the bed you shared.
“You got him a present, right?”
Silence.
“Are you serious?”
“Ok I genuinely forgot,” at least he sounded a little nervous. “What do I do?”
You put the heels of your hands in your eyes, and breathed out a stressful sigh.
“”Everywhere’s closed. Just say you left it and buy the first few rounds of drinks. He’ll be drunk enough then to forget about it for the time being.”
“Good idea.”
“Hm.”
“I’m sorry.”
You closed your eyes and sighed in response. He appeared behind you, snaking his arms around your waist and breathing into your neck. You fought a smirk. His cologne was hypnotizing. He wore black dress pants, a black collared shirt, and black and white high top sneakers.
“You smell good,” he mumbled, tickling your skin as he kissed it lightly. You shivered and leaned tiredly against him. “I’m trying to get back on your good side, baby.”
You breathed out a laugh. “Mmhm. I sense that. Can you go grab my red bottoms from the closet?”
He nodded, kissed you on the cheek, and trailed his arms off you to leave the bathroom you were in.
When he came back in, he held them hanging on his pointer and middle finger as he swiped on his phone with the other hand. You dropped your silk robe to your feet to change into your dress. It was white, skimpy, and silk.
You heard the hitching of breath behind you, and suddenly Joe’s phone was not the center of his attention. He looked at you in the mirror, not hiding it whatsoever. You made eye contact with him through the mirror.
He raised his eyebrows, a “fuck” escaping under his breath.
You pulled the dress off the hanger to step into it. “Can you zip me up?” you looked at him in the reflection again.
He just nodded, gave no verbal response. He tossed the heels on the bed and walked up behind you. He traced a line down your bare back before zipping up the dress.
You turned and gave him a quick peck in thanks. “Alright, I have my purse and my phone. I just have to put shoes on and we’ll go.”
He grabbed your heels off the bed, and pushed you gently backwards so you’d sit down on it. He knelt in front of you, gently lifting your calf up to slowly slip your heel on. He gave your soft skin a squeeze, then kissed it lightly, making his way up to your knee as he looked up at you. His eyes were dark and lidded.
“No, do not look at me like that,” you said with as much sternness that you could muster.
“I’m not looking at you like anything,” he mumbled into your skin.
Both of your shoes were on, so you scooted forward on the bed, looking down at him. He looked up at you with his lips pursed in a smirk. You cupped his face in your hands, running your thumb across his cheek. You leaned in,
close enough to kiss him.
“We’re late,” you whispered, and rolled off the side of the bed.
- - -
The ride in the car was quiet, a comfortable silence. Joe rubbed you affectionately on your thigh. You were excited for tonight, even though Joe was making you want to stay home. You were glad that some of your girl friends
we’re going, as Joe would probably be caught up with his friends. It was a guy on the team’s party, so of course you had to go. You were excited, though after you and Joe’s recent interactions, you’d rather just stay home with him. You were glad the two of you could make up; sometimes it was like he didn’t think. Lucky for him, you loved him anyway.
Joe’s sleek car pulled in front of the club, valet coming to take it from him. He got out, coming around to open the door for you. People recognized him as y’all got out. He opened the door, grasping your hand to help you out the car. You held your clutch in one hand, Joe’s hand in the other, and you walked toward the club doors. You walked past multiple filming phones, and Joe squeezed your hand. You didn’t mind them, they just made you slightly nervous. The bouncer stepped aside, nodding at the two of you as he let you in.
The club was dimly lit, neon lights responsible for most of the light. He led you through the crowd to a VIP section. There sat many familiar faces from the team and families, who cheered drunkenly when they saw you’d arrived.
You listened as Joe spit out the excuse that you told him to make about the gift. The birthday boy didn’t skip a beat, mostly happy for free drinks. The other wives of Joe’s teammates pulled you into their circle. You were the youngest out of all of them, but you enjoyed their company at all the games and celebrations. You’d grown close to them as the seasons went on.
They asked generic questions: How were you and Joe? What’s new? Eventually, they got bored of the VIP section and wanted to go dance. You got up to go with them. You needed a drink too, you decided.
You stopped by where Joe was before leaving to tell him where you were going. He already had a drink in his hand, and was sitting on a couch. He was a little tipsy already, you could tell. He was manspreading on the couch, and when you walked up to talk to him, he pulled you forward by the back of your thigh to stand between his legs. He looked up at you, smirking with his eyebrows raised.
His behavior took you slightly by surprise, and you smiled down at him.
“Hi,” you smirked.
“Hi.” He rubbed the back of your leg, looking you up and down. You felt a slight blush on the highs of your cheeks.
“We’re going to dance, okay?”
“”You’re leaving me?” He feigned annoyance, making you smile. He looked good tonight.
“Yes,” you pouted. “Have fun.”
“Text me if you need me.”
“I will, I love you,” you said, and his grasp lingered on your thighs as you backed away.
“Love you,” he said, giving your calf one last squeeze before you turned around.
- - -
The dance floor was crowded, and so was the bar. You took a tequila shot with some of the other ladies, then took on the dance floor. You were glad to be able to let loose. You danced with your friends laughing. The music playing was good, and before you knew it, you needed another drink. You ordered some sort of fruity cocktail, one of the girls meeting you up there. You two talked about something random, giggly and cheerful from your drunken states.
“Okay girl, the dance floor misses me. I’ve gotta go back,” your friend says jokingly. “You coming?”
“Tempting, really, but I’ll take a break here and nurse my drink.” Your feet ached, so a break at the bar was what you needed. You reached for your phone to text Joe. Fuck. It was back in your clutch in the section. Oh well, guess there’s no losing it then.
You turned to ask the bartender for another, and-
“I’ve never seen you here before,” a voice says next to you. It was a man, with brown hair and facial stubble looking at you, head tilted with his tongue in his cheek.
It took you a moment to realize he was talking to you. Now you wished you could text Joe, to come down and whisk you away. “I’ve been here a few times,” you say, boredom in your expression.
“Nah, I’d remember a pretty face like yours.” He raised his eyebrows and leaned in. “You sure you’ve been here?”
Ew.
“Yep, I’d know!” you chirped. You looked around for someone you knew, an ally to save you. You saw no one, and sighed. You had a feeling this guy would be pretty persistent.
You went to dismiss yourself, say that you had to go somewhere, do something other than be where you were right now, but he beat you to it. Dread bloomed in your chest.
“Let me buy you a drink, hm?” he gave a coy smirk. He must have seen the reluctance in your expression, because he continued. “Come on, a pretty girl shouldn’t walk around the club empty handed.”
You sighed, ready for this to be over. You glanced upward to try and spot the VIP section from where you were by the bar. You could see the section, some of your friends laughing and drinking, but you didn’t see Joe with them.
“No, I’m okay. I don’t want a drink.” You tried to look emotionless instead of jumpy.
“Maybe your number then?” He showed no signs of defeat in his expression. Couldn’t he give it up already?
“I have a boyfriend, so no.” You steeled your expression, again glancing around for your friend. The dance floor was too crowded to see. You needed to make an escape. “I really should be
going.” You made the move to walk off. Any direction would suffice. You just needed to leave, you were anxious. You’d just go find Joe and hang around him for the rest of the night. Anything to get out of this situation.
He caught you by your elbow, firmly.
“I don’t see him.”
Your breath hitched in your throat. “What?”
“I said I don’t see him.” The stranger suddenly got closer to you, the alcohol in his breath noticeable. He kept his grip on your elbow.
“See who?” A gruff voice spoke from behind you. Joe. A great relief waved through you. His hands pulled you backwards, out of the strangers grip and safely in the confines of his arms.
The stranger’s face blanched, almost comically. His suave demeanor disappeared. He opened his mouth, as if to say something. He looked up at Joe, then down at you. He made some sort of noise, and began to stutter out something. Joe’s eyes on him silenced his voice.
Joe moved you aside and slightly behind him gently by your shoulders. He glanced at you, quickly checking you up and down for any sign of harm or anything out of place. The leds from the bar illuminated your pale skin, highlighting the hand-shaped flush on your skin near your elbow. Joe’s expression went cold and angry as he saw it, his jaw became clenched. Even in the loud atmosphere of the bar, things seemed to go still and silent.
His head turned toward the stranger, who was significantly shorter than Joe. He didn’t just look short, but small. He had compacted himself on the crowded bar as far away from Joe as possible.
You looked down at Joe’s hand, balled into a fist. You grabbed on his sleeve, as his back was turned to you. You didn’t want to make a scene. His whole body was tensed.
“Joe,” you said. It was a plea, and he knew it. Losing his temper could be bad. He was big guy, and he could definitely do some damage. Not to mention that this could damage his career. This could be bad for his reputation, no matter what the circumstance was. He knew this, and he didn’t care. You were the most important thing in the world to him. Someone had merely thought about putting you in harm’s way, and he was furious.
He looked at you, blue eyes dark, jaw clenched. He looked like he was struggling to stay in control of himself, as if he was on the brink of flying off the handle. He was making a decision, and looking at your pleading expression was the only thing keeping him from swinging on the guy in front of him.
He turned, as calm as he could be towards the man at the bar. He rested his elbow on the bar, getting on the man’s level and moving very close to speak to him. Joe looked nothing but threatening, and spoke firmly to him.
He said, “You’re lucky that she’s here. She’s the only thing keeping me from putting my hands on you.” Joe said every word so calm, but so threatening. “But I’m gonna let you know right now. If you ever try to touch her again, let alone let me see you anywhere near this place again, I swear to God that you’ll be unrecognizable by the time I’m finished with you. You understand?”
You couldn’t tell if the man’s response was a nod or him trembling. Joe stood straight, towering over him again, and after one last look, turned back to you.
“Let’s go, I’ve got your phone in my pocket. I’ll buy you another purse.” The way he was looking at you contrasted so much from the one he had earlier. He looked down intently, eyes laced with concern and care.
You couldn’t care less about the purse. You latched himself to his arm, happy to be with him again. “Yeah, I want to go home,” you said quietly. All that stress had tired you out suddenly. You quickly said goodbyes to the other members of the group, unaware of what just happened.
He led you out of the flashing club, strobes painting him a million different colors. He got out to valet, giving some bills to the person working. Soon, his car appeared in front of you. Everything was moving so fast, you hadn’t realized how fast your heart was beating.
The car door was opened for you. You detached from Joe and slid in. He got in the driver’s seat. You stared forward, zoned out and shaken. You rubbed the skin near your elbow. It was still flush, with a slightly purple bruised undertone.
In your haze, you looked over at Joe. His knuckles were white on the steering wheel. His eyes were dark and he looked extremely tense.
Your house was in front of you now, car in park and both of you just sitting in the drivers seat. You realized he was looking at you, eyes repeatedly glancing over you, as if he missed something before.
You looked back at him. “Can we go inside?” you whispered. You weren’t really sure why you whispered, but the air in the car was so stagnant that you felt you had to.
“Yea,” he responded gently. He got out pf the drivers seat, walking around to open the door for you. He held out his hand, and you took it. He led you into your large house, you trailing him slightly. He locked the door behind you.
His stillness gave you the opportunity to interlink your fingers with his, moving yourself closer to him. You wanted him and only him right now. He was the only one that made you feel calm. You ignored texts from your friends who witnessed the event asking if you were alright and what happened. You wanted Joe. He gently squeezed your hand as he led you up the stairs to your bedroom, then to the bathroom.
Your makeup was out from before you left, and your robe was still on the floor. It was quiet.
Joe went and turned on your shower, large with marble tile lining the walls. The glass of the shower door fogged up with warm condensation.
“Hey,” he came up behind you and gently rubbed your shoulders. “You wanna take this off?” He fiddled with the straps of your dress. He sounded so gentle, such a contrast of his anger earlier in the evening. You leaned back against him, weary.
“Yeah,” you nearly whispered. He unzipped it and gently slid the straps off your shoulders. He dropped the dress, allowing it to pool around your ankles. You had kicked off your shoes sometime going up the stairs, so you were soon bare in front of him.
You reached forward to pull him closer to you. He had been watching with a concerned expression, as if he didn’t want to overwhelm you at all. You got to work on the buttons of his shirt while he unzipped and dropped his pants.
He stepped into the steamy shower first, pulling you in after him. He pulled the door closed behind you, and the both of you just looked at each other. He looked down at you, hair tousled and wet, scanning you over and over checking on you, even though you were fine. You just looked up at him, breathing in the humid warm air of the shower. Slowly, you found yourself melting into him, head on his chest just leaning into him. He held you, resting his head on the top of yours. His embrace was so secure that you felt apart of him, and never wanted to be any other way.
“Are you okay?” He leaned down to whisper in your ear, again quiet even though the whole house was to yourselves.
“Yea, that was scary,” you sighed muffled into his slick chest. You lifted your arms up to put over his shoulders, letting him hold you tighter.
“I’m so sorry, baby,” he said in a low voice, full of care. Then you realized why he looked the way he did. He blamed himself.
“Joe,” you freed yourself enough to look back up at him. “None of this is your fault, at all. I’m okay, just a little shaken up. I’m just glad you didn’t do anything to lose your job. I know how much you love what you do, and I never want that to be taken from you because of me.”
He furrowed his brows at you slightly, as if you said something he didn’t understand. He lifted his hands to cup for cheeks, left thumb running over your cheekbone and lips.
“It’s not about the football, you know that right? Not when it comes to you.” He spoke passionately, looking into your eyes as if pleading for you to understand. Your breath was hitched in your throat. “I will lose my job a thousand times for you, and I won’t ever let it get in the way of anything between us. I’ll never let anything or anyone hurt you. I love you, more than anything. Nothing is a burden when it comes to you, and it never will be okay?”
He looked at you so earnestly and with so much emotion. You swallowed, only able to look at him. You realized then that he expected an answer. He wanted to know that you really understood him.
“Okay,” you whispered. He looked down at you through his dripping short strands of hair, and kissed you so gently. He was treating you like you were something priceless, breathing out “I love you”s in between light kisses. He didn’t stop, but he didn’t deepen them either. He gripped your damp skin with his fingers, holding you like he was about to lose you.
The sour memories of the night faded when Joe touched you, and in the steamy fog and hot water, you found your place. Night clubs were overrated.
350 notes · View notes
dreamwritesimagines · 5 months
Text
The Eye of the Hurricane [20] - Nightclub
A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful feedback, you made my day! ❤️I hope you’ll like this chapter as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think! ❤️
Summary: Business deals are open to negotiation.  
Word Count: 2600
Pairing: MobBoss!Bucky Barnes x Reader
Warnings: Violence, guns, crime, blood, explicit language, dysfunctional relationship. This is an AU, friendly reminder that I don’t condone any of the actions depicted on this story and please read with care.
Series Masterlist
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“Unbelievable,” you muttered to yourself, scratching at Alpine’s head with one hand while holding your phone with the other, your eyes skimming the lines. “Seriously…”
Bucky sipped his coffee. “Care to share with the class, Charm?”
You heaved a sigh and shot him a look, holding up the phone so that he could see the screen.
“Clint leaves the city for a couple of days and HYDRA immediately attacks his territory?” you asked and Bucky hummed.
“I mean he had his people covering it,” he said. “Just because he wasn’t here, doesn’t mean it was open to any attack.”
“Which makes it worse,” you told him with a sigh, then reached out for the jar of peanut butter to dip a spoon into it. “How many sources do these guys have?”
“That’s what we’re trying to find out,” Bucky said, reaching out to run his fingers through Alpine’s soft fur as she meowed at him. “You’re coming to the club tonight, right?”
“Wouldn’t miss it.” Your phone buzzed in your hand and you took a look at the notification, then licked your lips.
“Buck.”
“Hm?”
“So you know how our therapist said open communication is very important?”
“I don’t trust the therapist.”
“Shocking,” you deadpanned. “Anyway, I’m meeting Ethan today for lunch.”
Bucky let out a groan before he threw his head back. “Charm…”
“This is me openly communicating.”
“This is you throwing a knife at me and calling it communication,” Bucky corrected you, making your jaw drop.
“It’s not!”
“I will ask this question once again; why are you meeting your ex who wants to fuck you?”
“That’s not—I know the idea isn’t familiar to you, but some people can be friends with their exes.”
“So it’d be fine if I met up with one of my exes for lunch?” he asked and you shrugged your shoulders, trying to ignore the unpleasant flip your stomach did.
“If you can find an ex who doesn’t want to kill you?” you said. “Go ahead.”
He scoffed. “Not all of them hate me.”
“Is the ex who doesn’t hate you in the room with us right now?” you asked back and he made a face.
“I don’t know who fed you those lies, I’m guessing Becca—”
“Becca is very objective when it comes to your exes,” you pointed out. “And how terrible you are in relationships.”
“I’m not terrible in relationships.”
“Did you stay friends with any of your exes?”
“Yeah!”
“Give me a name.”
He blinked a couple of times and cleared his throat. “…Dot.”
“Dot hates your guts, Buck.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I know she dumped you,” you said and Bucky clicked his tongue.
“It was a mutual decision.”
“It really wasn’t,” you said. “You do realize that I’ve been best friends with your sister since I was in kindergarten? I know everything about your terrible relationships.”
“To repeat, they’re not—don’t change the subject,” he said as you sipped your coffee. “Your ex?”
“My ex does not want to kill me like your exes or fuck me like you seem to think.”
“Oh he wants to marry you then?” he asked and even though you knew he was being sarcastic, your stomach did a flip. “Sorry to be the bearer of bad news, I beat him to it.”
You clicked your tongue as you dipped your spoon in the peanut butter jar again.
“As much as I enjoy you referring to me like I’m the last piece of cake,” you deadpanned. “I will make sure both your dick and you regret it the next time you do that.”
He blinked a couple of times and you gave him a bright grin, then popped the spoon into your mouth, then pulled it out to point at him with it.
“See?” you asked him. “Open communication. Therapy works wonderfully for this relationship.”
                                                  *
“Tell me I didn’t make you wait for long,” Ethan said as he rushed into the café and you let out a laugh, then stood up to kiss his cheek.
“I just got here, no worries,” you said. “Ordered your coffee though.”
“You know my coffee order?”
“Yeah,” you said and made a face at him. “Terrible order but yeah. Burned into my mind.”
That made him smile as he sat down.
“I’m so sorry,” he said. “I was going to come sooner but—”
“Let me guess, your boss?”
“One of these days, that man will get in an accident that I’ve been hoping and praying for,” he told you, making you laugh.
“That’s doable,” you said. “I told you before.”
He heaved a sigh. “Stop. Right now, I feel like taking you up on that offer.”
“You can.”
He frowned, then shook his head.
“No no,” he said. “I’ve watched too many movies about this.”
“I’m not going to put a horse head in your bed, Ethan.”
“No, not that!” he said, letting out a chuckle. “Power corrupts.”
You shrugged again. “Nah it doesn’t.”
“It would corrupt me,” he told you as the waitress brought your coffees. “How about you? How’s uh…how’s marriage?”
Your eyes snapped to his and you cleared your throat, shifting in your seat.
“Ethan, if it’s going to lead to yet another—”
“It won’t,” he cut you off and offered you a small smile. “Don’t worry. I got the message.”
A silence fell upon you. You could feel your stomach doing a flip at the implication of what he had said and even though you actually wanted to talk about it, you knew you couldn’t.
Now to think of it…
You weren’t sure if you could even get together with him after your divorce. The idea was tempting yes, but you weren’t sure he could handle the life the job brought with it. While you and Bucky could torture an agent of HYDRA and then get takeout afterwards, doing the same wasn’t possible with Ethan and—
Strangely enough, you found yourself wondering whether you could still do it with Bucky after you two would get a divorce.
“Y/N?”
Your head shot up and you cleared your throat, then smiled at him.
“Sorry,” you said. “Blanked out for a second. You were saying?”
                                                   *
Opening night of a club, especially if it was in Barnes, Wilson or Rogers territories, was always so much fun that even when you were teenagers, you and Becca would sneak into them, most of the time to get caught by Steve. Now that you were a grown up, you still enjoyed them but you also knew what was happening in the background.
It was the perfect time to make deals.
The crowd, the music, the alcohol, it all served its purpose to make better deals without getting the weapons or threats involved. Not to mention, getting invited to the opening night showed respect to whoever was a part of any negotiation.
You took a sip of your drink and leaned back on the sofa, keeping your eyes on Mr. Clifford. He was one of the new players in town, but powerful enough to be invited to your -well, Bucky’s- VIP booth tonight. If this deal worked, he could make the shipments to your territory much smoother but the problem was, neither you nor Bucky could decide whether you could trust him or not.
He had good references, but he was still sort of a mystery.
“I wasn’t aware you would be here as well, Mrs. Barnes,” Mr. Clifford said. “So the word on the street is true?”
“What word?” you asked and he smiled.
“That you’re…not just a guest?”
Bucky raised his brows and shot you a small grin while you shrugged your shoulders.
“No, I’m not.”
“She’s the only one I trust,” Bucky said and you smirked, reaching out to hold his hand. Mr. Clifford nodded.
“I see,” he said. “And um—if you don’t mind me ask, will it affect any deals I may make with your father?”
“You will have to ask my father that,” you said. “I hear he’s not open to any new deals but you can try your chances.”
He hummed. “And his heir, Ian?”
Your jaw clenched but you managed to keep your expression flat while Bucky squeezed your hand as if trying to assure you.
“Ian hasn’t been named yet,” he said. “And either way, if you’re making deals with heirs, I may have to rethink my decision to do business with you. Are you that much of an amateur?”
“Bucky.”
“No, I’m not going to do business with him if he’s making deals with people who can’t sit at the grown-ups table.” 
“I assure you, that’s not the case,” Mr. Clifford said. “I was just voicing my curiosity, that’s all.”
You downed your drink and leaned in to whisper into Bucky’s ear.
“I’ll be right back,” you said. “Don’t shoot him?”
“No promises,” he murmured and you tried to bite back your smile, then grabbed your purse and stood up to make your way through the dance floor to the bathroom. When you stepped out again, your eyes fell upon Ryan who was by the bar and you smiled to yourself, then approached the bar as well.
“I think you’re the only person who drinks water at a club opening,” you said, making him turn his head and he blinked a couple of times as if he was surprised to see you, then looked down at the glass in his hand.
“Ma’am,” he said, taking a sip of his water and you tilted your head.
“Let me guess,” you said. “Ian told you to be completely sober just in case?”
“It’s my idea, ma’am.”
“Where’s he?”
“In the VIP room there,” he motioned at the closest room and you pulled your brows together.
“And he sent you away?”
Ryan sipped his water in silence and you heaved a sigh.
“Does he know that keeping his right arm out of deals is a terrible idea?”
“I’m just his bodyguard ma’am, nothing more.”
You pursed your lips together and cleared your throat.
“You might as well dance with someone, you know,” you joked. “If he’s going to be there alone, no need for you to get bored.”
The look of complete terror on his face at the suggestion was almost funny. He was a huge guy, and you were pretty sure he could crush someone’s skull with his bare hands if he wanted to, but he looked absolutely terrified at the idea of dancing with someone at the club.
“I’m a great wing-woman,” you told him, making him blink a couple of times. “Anyone caught your attention?”
“Ma’am I—I wouldn’t—” he stammered and you waved a hand in the air.
“And how many times should I tell you to call me Y/N?” you asked and he licked his lips, staring at you.
“I don’t mean disrespect.”
“I don’t think it’s disrespect,” you told him and out of the corner of your eye, you saw the waiter leaving your VIP room mutter something at one of Clifford’s bodyguards by the door before walking away. You frowned.
“Excuse me,” you said as you made your way to the fire exit the waiter walked into. You looked over your shoulder and pulled the small pistol out of your purse, then pushed open the door quietly to step into the hallway.
The waiter was too busy to notice your presence as he pulled a gun out of the cleaning bucket in front of him, but he froze when he heard the sound of you cocking the gun.
“Hi,” you said and he gritted his teeth, raising his hands. “Put the gun down.”
He slowly put the gun down and you smiled.
“There you go,” you said. “Good boy.”
“What are you doing?” he asked as he turned to you and you shrugged your shoulders.
“I mean I’m trying to enjoy my night to be honest but…”
“Just walk away.”
You scoffed.
“Right,” you said. “That’s gonna happen.”
“If you walk away now, you’ll benefit from it,” he said. “Mr. Clifford says if Barnes dies, you could take over his territory, his business. It’ll be your right.”
You rolled your eyes.
“Well yeah but also if Bucky dies, I’ll have to wear black and I can’t really pull off black dresses,” you said. “Becca says it has something to do with my undertone—”
You didn’t get to finish your sentence when he lunged to throw a punch at you but you caught his hand and twisted it, making him cry out in pain. You headbutted him right in the nose, hearing the crack of the bone before you grabbed the bigger pistol on the floor to slam it against his head, causing him to drop to the floor unconscious.
“This night is getting more and more fun,” you murmured as you shook your head, then pushed your pistol back into your purse. You made your way to the door again to open it, then approached Ryan to tap him on the shoulder.
“Can I borrow you for a moment?” you asked and turned around without waiting for him to answer, but he followed you anyway until you got to the hallway and opened the door. Ryan grabbed his gun from his waistband the moment he saw the unconscious guy lying on the floor, then turned to you.
“Ma’am, are you alright?” he asked, stepping into the hallway with his gun ready, checking for any threats. “Did he hurt you?”
“Not at all,” you said. “Keep an eye on him until I get back.”
His back straightened immediately like he was a soldier and you were his commander. “Yes ma’am.”
“And if Ian says anything,” you said. “This happened in Barnes territory, he’s our hostage. No one else’s.”
“Yes ma’am.”
You nodded your head and took a step to the door, then turned around.
“And thank you, Ryan,” you said, making him pull his brows together in confusion as if he wasn’t used to hearing it. “I appreciate it.”
He swallowed thickly, then nodded.
“Ma’am,” he said and you pushed open the door, then made your way to the VIP room Bucky was in.
“As I was saying, our price isn’t…” Clifford stopped talking when he saw you walk inside. “Ah Mrs. Barnes, welcome back.”
You shot him a fake smile, then leaned in closer to Bucky so that you could whisper into his ear.
“He’s trying to kill you.”
Bucky’s gaze snapped to yours when you pulled back and he heaved a sigh as if he was exhausted, then ran a hand over his eyes.
“Great,” he muttered. “Do you want to stay and watch, sweetheart?”
You thought for a moment, then shook your head.
“I got one of his men, I’ll be by the fire exit,” you murmured. “Come there when you’re done?”
“Sure thing.”
“What’s going on?” Clifford asked and you turned to shoot him a glare before pecking Bucky on the cheek.
“Have fun!”
“I will,” Bucky said and motioned at one of the bodyguards. “Paul, escort my wife to where she’s going.”
“Yes Mr. Barnes.”
“And Hannah,” Bucky’s voice was completely calm. “Lock the room down.”
“Mr. Barnes, please—” Clifford’s voice was cut off when the door shut behind you and Bucky’s bodyguards started dragging Clifford’s men away while you turned to Paul with a sigh.
“How fucking rude, right?”
“Ma’am?”
“I mean honestly…” you muttered while you walked to the fire exit with Paul following you. “Sending an amateur to kill him? People today have no manners.”
Chapter 21
375 notes · View notes
eroselless · 29 days
Text
───────────────────somebody else // 4
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series summary: you just work in hospitality for McLaren and he’s their star driver. what happens when your paths cross and you find yourself questioning your feelings for each other? [2.8k]
[lando norris x reader]
masterlist | previously
warnings: angst, mentions of sex
note: hi friends! I'm so sorry i've been a little awol recently. like i said before, I had been prepping for a big trip. I am studying abroad for a few months and I am slowly starting to settle in. this chapter is an insight on Lando's point of view, exploring his feelings and such. This does mean that this series will be coming to a close soon, one or two chapters at most will be added after this. Thank you guys so much again for reading and for being patient with me! Happy reading <3
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Lando hadn’t been looking for anything serious. He wasn’t the type, or at least that’s what he told himself. He was young, successful, and people often told him how lucky he was to live the life he had. Fast cars, travel, a wide circle of friends—what more could he ask for? He wasn’t sure what to make of her at first. Their initial exchanges were easy, filled with harmless flirting and the occasional back and forth. Magui was gorgeous—there was no denying that—and they got along well enough.
Weeks went by with casual texting, late-night conversations, and occasional meet-ups whenever they could. They had met at a party a few months ago, and things had escalated quickly from casual texting to late-night conversations—the kind where they laughed a little too loudly, even over the phone. He met her when he could between races, and sometimes they kissed, letting the evening unravel into something more. The first time they kissed was in the darkness of a nightclub, lights flashing around them, the music loud enough that he couldn’t hear his own thoughts.
He kissed her because it felt like the right thing to do at the time. His lips found hers, and everything else fell away. The next thing he remembered was stumbling into her apartment, their lips barely separating as they fumbled with the door, their clothes falling off as they made their way toward her bed. It felt right. At that moment.
It was fun, exhilarating even. They knew each other on a physical level that went beyond any of his past experiences. In the dim haze of his newfound adulthood, this was what Lando thought he needed. And people thought they looked good together, so why not? It could work.
But something still didn’t feel complete. He began to wonder if he was missing something, something more.
Then he met you.
Lando had noticed you before he had even spoken to you directly. There was something different in the air around you as you moved through the hospitality suite. He remembered watching you stand near the garage, focused, observing everything but never really interacting unless needed. It intrigued him. You weren’t a fan, he could tell—not in the way some others were. Unlike most, you didn’t treat the drivers like celebrities; you treated them like people. It was refreshing. He watched you from a distance at first, trying to figure you out. You were polite but distant, professional.
You weren’t the kind of person to seek attention, and that intrigued him. You were there, working quietly, your head down, but always aware of your surroundings. He liked that.
After that first day, he found himself wandering back into the hospitality suite, dodging journalists and photographers as he snuck away to find you. He always made up an excuse to see you, not fully aware of the brewing feelings in the back of his mind.
You were friends, exchanging late-night calls, staying behind sometimes at the hospitality suite to keep you company as you arranged things back into their places. He’d ask you questions about your life outside of racing, curious about the parts of you that didn’t revolve around the sport. Over time, you opened up more to him. You indulged in his mannerisms, leaning into him when the opportunity arose. He gradually picked up on your habits, like the way you concealed your smile behind your hands or how you fiddled with the long ties of your work apron. Seeing you began to make his heart race.
The more you interacted, the more fascinated he became. Without even realizing it, you became someone he relied on. When he was feeling down after a tough race or just needed a distraction from the world, he found himself texting you, sending you stupid memes or random thoughts. And you always replied, often with that teasing wit he’d grown to love. It made him feel like you were more than just a part of his world—you were becoming his world.
The moments that made his heart race became more frequent—a photo of your smile, a teasing emoji after a flirty remark, or that time you sent him a voice note, laughing at something he had said.
That laugh... it stuck in his mind for days. He found himself cringing at the thought, comparing it to music. But truly, was a melody, a song he never wanted to stop hearing.
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
He hadn’t even realized how touchy he was with you until someone—probably Carlos—pointed it out. “Mate, you’re always finding an excuse to be near her,” he had teased, nudging Lando with his elbow.
Lando shrugged it off at first, but the truth was, Carlos wasn’t wrong. Whenever you were near, his hand naturally found the small of your back, his arm draping over your shoulder when you both walked together, or his fingers brushing against yours when you handed him something. The touches were light, casual—but they weren’t insignificant. You leaned into his touch, beginning to feel at home. It felt so natural, like you’d always been in his space.
Lando felt the shift long before he was willing to admit it. It was subtle. The way you began to pull away during team events, your texts becoming shorter and less frequent. Your touches were more hesitant, less willing to stay in his arms when they enveloped you. More quiet when others were around, and even more so when it was just the two of you. He racked his brain trying to figure out what went wrong, but every time he thought about asking, he stopped himself. Could he be imagining it?
He tried distracting himself, telling himself it was nothing. There was always Magui, after all. She’d been popping in and out of his life more times than he could count, and every time he thought he was done, she found a way back in. Sometimes, when he felt lonely or frustrated after another awkward interaction with you, he’d slip into old habits. He’d wake up in Magui’s bed, her arm draped over his chest, and he’d tell himself it didn’t mean anything. And it didn’t. Not really.
But it didn’t fill the gap. It didn’t make him stop thinking about you. No matter how hard he tried to push those thoughts away, they kept coming back. He missed you, he felt lonely without you in the busy world you both found yourselves in. You were the one he wanted, even if he couldn’t say it.
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
The night at the club was a turning point. You were there, a few drinks in, your inhibitions lowered, and for the first time in a while, you weren’t pulling away from him. He had to stop himself from kissing you when he first pulled you into his arms. Your perfume was one he almost hadn’t recognized, knowing you only wore it a few times when going out. He’d smelled it on you on the rare occasions when you weren’t working hospitality at McLaren dinners. It was so… you.
He spent most of the night watching you, unable to keep his eyes off your frame as you swayed drunkenly with Alex and Lily. He couldn’t take his eyes off you, couldn’t tear his gaze away from the way you were so you in that moment. Every time you moved in time with the music, he could feel himself falling deeper under the spell you unknowingly had him under.
He had to stop himself from kissing you right then and there when he pressed into you from behind, taking your hips into his hands. Your flowery scent mixed with the tang of alcohol and sweat was intoxicating, and it took everything in him not to lean down and meld his lips to yours.
He leaned in, his lips brushing your ear as the bass of the music thumped in his chest. He didn’t say anything, didn’t dare ruin the moment with words, but he knew you could feel the way his body responded to yours. The tension was electric, each second of your closeness like a silent admission that neither of you could avoid anymore.
You didn’t pull away. You didn’t tell him to stop. Your body felt heavenly against his, fitting right where it needed to. His hands were everywhere and nowhere all at once. He couldn’t get enough of you.
Lando’s thoughts were a mess. Every time your hips brushed against him, his breath caught, and his brain spun in circles, trying to make sense of what this was. Did you feel the same pull? The same desire that clawed at him every time you were near? He didn’t know, and he couldn’t bring himself to ask.
The moment you stepped off the dance floor, Lando took your hand, leading you toward the darkened hallway. Neither of you said a word as you slipped into the bathroom, the music muffled by the walls around you. He pinned you against the cool surface of the sink, his lips crashing into yours with a desperation he hadn’t realized he was carrying. You kissed him back, just as hungry, and for a moment, he let himself forget the confusion, the hesitation, everything except the way your body felt pressed against his.
He wanted to take you right there and then, not wanting to wait any longer. Your soft moans sent shivers down his spine, and he wanted more—needed more. His hands slid down to the hem of your dress, ready to lose himself in you entirely.
And just as they did, there was a sharp, sudden knock on the door that had the two of you jumping. He cursed the Dutch driver as he pulled the two of you out of your lustful haze, grounding both of you back in reality. There was a sudden soberness instilled in your bodies as you left the restroom, only spurring him to drink more as the night dragged on.
The rest of the night was a blur. He remembered drinking more, trying to drown the frustration gnawing at him. But he knew one thing for certain: you had come home with him. He remembered your face hovering over him as he lay in bed, the soft light casting a glow around your hair like a halo.
You slipped under the covers beside him, and for a brief moment, everything felt perfect.
When he wakes up alone, he can still smell your perfume. It lingers on the sheets, the only proof that you were there the night before. He lies there, staring at the ceiling, his bed still warm from where you had been beside him, and he tries to convince himself that it doesn’t matter. That you’ll be okay, that things will eventually go back to normal.  
He sees his phone charging on the opposite bedside table and reaches across the bed to check it. It's almost dead, having just barely been plugged in. He reaches for it, expecting—hoping—for a message from you, but instead, it’s from her.  
already missing you, when are you coming over again? last night was fun ;)
It's a message he’s been avoiding, a message he’s been ignoring all night long. Lando swears under his breath, tossing his phone to the side. He hasn’t seen Magui in weeks, but she has a way of showing up at the worst possible times, like a ghost from his past that refuses to be laid to rest. He feels a wave of guilt wash over him. What if you saw the message? What if that’s why you left?  
But deep down, he knows that isn’t it. There’s something else going on, something more that you haven’t talked about, something you’re both avoiding. And he hates it.  
Sitting up in bed, he runs a hand through his messy curls, his mind racing. He can’t keep doing this—dancing around his feelings, pretending everything is fine when it clearly isn’t. He needs to talk to you, to figure out what’s going on, but the thought of confronting it scares him more than he’s willing to admit.  
Because what if you don’t feel the same way? What if this is all in his head, and you’re just trying to let him down gently? He can’t bear the thought of losing you completely, even if it means staying in this strange limbo where things are left unsaid.  
But one thing is clear—Magui isn’t what he wants anymore. Not really. She’s a distraction, a way to fill the void that has grown between him and you. But it’s not enough. You’re what he wants, the one who makes his heart race and his thoughts spin in ways he hasn’t felt before.  
Lando glances at his phone again, the urge to text you overwhelming. He types out a message, his fingers hesitating over the send button.  
Hey, can we talk?
Simple. Direct. But as his thumb hovers over the screen, doubt creeps in. What if you don’t reply? What if this is the end? 
Before he can hit send, he tosses his phone to the side once again, the message box now empty.  
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
When he pulls you into his driver’s room, it’s not a decision—it’s instinct. Carlos’s words still ring in his ears, but it’s the image of someone else's hands on you, someone other than him, that makes his blood roar in his veins. His thoughts, his feelings, everything he’s been holding back solidifies in an instant. He crosses the distance between you, heart thrumming wildly in his chest. Without a word, his hands find your face, and his lips meet yours, slow and deep, pouring everything he’s never had the courage to say. You don’t pull away; you don’t ask questions. Maybe, somehow, you always knew.
It wasn’t like the kiss in the club—this one was softer, filled with all the things he couldn’t say. It’s tender, woven with unspoken confessions, full of the vulnerability he’s buried for too long. His hands slide to your waist, pulling you impossibly close, and you match his intensity, your body melting into his, as if you’ve both been waiting for this moment forever. 
Neither of you speak—words would only shatter the fragile understanding that lingers between you. Slowly, he rises, his mind a whirl of confusion, already imagining what he might say the next time he sees you. Surely, this couldn’t be the end. All those moments—the brushes of your hands, the late-night calls, the silent glances that spoke louder than words—surely they weren’t meaningless?
But as quietly as you slipped into his room, you slip out and away. He’s left sitting in the dim light, staring at the bed, his heart still racing but now hollow. You left without a word, but this time the emptiness feels sharper. You had clung to each other as though trying to hold back the inevitable, a storm of passion that left him breathless. Yet, as he had laid on your chest, listening to your heartbeat fade into silence, he can’t shake the feeling that this was an ending. That whatever it was you had—whatever it could have been—was slipping through his fingers like sand.
Slowly, he rises, his mind a whirl of confusion, already imagining what he might say the next time he sees you. Surely, this couldn’t be the end. All those moments—the brushes of your hands, the late-night calls, the silent glances that spoke louder than words—surely they weren’t meaningless?
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
When the next race weekend arrives, Lando paces restlessly through the hospitality suite. His stomach is in knots, his mind spinning at a pace faster than he’s ever driven. He goes over the words he’s rehearsed a thousand times in his head, thinking about how he should’ve spoken sooner, how he should’ve laid everything bare instead of relying on touches and stolen moments to convey what he’s felt for so long. Fifteen minutes pass. You’re still not there.
In the time he’s known you, he’s learned that you’re never late. Even when you were nervous or uncertain, you would always show up. Maybe it’s just traffic, he tells himself, trying to ignore the gnawing pit in his stomach. Maybe you’ll arrive later. But you would’ve told him, right? You always told him.
Then the doors open, and his heart stumbles in his chest, but it’s not you.
“Oh, she quit,” a colleague tells him when he asks for you. “Her contract was ending anyways, something about heading back to university.”
The words hit him like a cold wave, their meaning sinking in with agonizing slowness. You’re gone. Just like that. No warning, no farewell, no final glance. As he stands there, staring at the space where you should be, at the bar, at the tables you once hovered over, the reality crashes down on him with the weight of a thousand unsaid words.
And in that moment, the depth of his loss becomes a stark, aching reality.
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tags: @horseymchorse3 @bluebluesol @sltwins @sarx164 @f1fantasys @obxstiles @moonvr @spideylovin @lipstickstateofmind @rafeyybabyy
a/n: hi everyone, thank you much if you've gotten to this point! I really loved being to explore Lando's point of you and seeing more of his side of the story. let me know what you guys think of it, i always love to see what you guys have to say!
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vicxss · 2 months
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Natasha Romanoff x bartender!university student! reader
Summary: You're working to make ends meet and unexpected help arrives
Warnings: smut, fingering, stimulation and penetration
English is not my first language
It was 7 pm when Carol called me in for a shift at the luxe nightclub that was rented for a bachelor party, she strung me along that it would be closed so I would have to wear a jacket, despite being a woman.I ran into Carol and Maria Hill near the bar.
Carol: I'm glad you're here, these people are crazy - she hugs me
Maria: I must agree, I only agreed to come because I need the money - she says, starting to prepare a drink
Y/n: I also came for the money, I need to pay my university expenses, which are not cheap at all - I read an order and start to prepare like Hill
Carol: Come on people, you can't tell me that I only came here hoping to pay someone back - she says and we look at her
Y/n: We only came for the money anyway - I comment and Maria nodsI notice from a distance one of my teachers, Bucky Barnes, he is a Russian teacher but we ended up having disagreements.
I don't like the way he teaches and I bet he doesn't speak any Russian, this broke my expectations since I intended to learn Russian and I am interested in the language.
Carol: I see that you have already noticed Barnes, he came for Professor Tony's bachelor party in mechanics.Here is another area that I don't get along very well, although he is not my teacher, I only see him in the hallways and when I go to my friends' class.
Maria: And that's why he's asking God and the world for drinks, this guy must be rich, seriously, where does a university professor pay for a place like this?
Y/N: Maybe they earn well, I would have to earn very well to work with people from the university.
Carol: that's true, I can't stand to look at people anymore, they make me sick
Maria: Remember what Seth did on Wednesday?
Y/n: he showed everything he didn't have, and he still thinks he is good
Maria: his mother is the real good one - she says and Carol looks at her with disapproval and I just start laughing
Carol: He's never going to stop staring, it's already getting weird - she says referring to Bucky who is staring at us - If looks could kill?
Y/n: We just share the same feeling and I am interested in a better future, I say, rolling my eyes.
Carol: I'm going to deliver these drinks - she says and leaves with a tray of drinks in her hands.
Soon after Hill also leaves to hand out whiskey and I am left alone.I am trying to serve as many people as possible, but I don't know if I should take turns between drinks or handing out beer to the many men who were cursing me to get my attention .With a quick movement, I noticed a woman with red hair pass by the counter and stop beside me. She looked at me, and I could see the green in her eyes that seemed a color I had never seen before. Her wavy hair was reddish-red half copper, and she had a light makeup that highlighted her eyes and mouth.  God, she was beautiful.Shit, concentrate.
Y/n: Ma'am, I'm going to have to ask you to leave, please," I said so she could hear me.
"Show me where the beers are and I can help you deliver them while you prepare the drinks," she said with a husky tone of voice that made my skin shiver.
I pointed to a door behind the counter, and the woman smiled and winked at me. She shook her head with a nervous laugh, and I turned to the counter so that I could take my next order. 10 or 15 drinks, that's what they ordered, I was only satisfied when the group of people returned to the stage where the performance was taking place.I leaned against the counter and noticed the woman looking me up and down, I took the opportunity and did the same. She was wearing a tight black dress, enough to make her breasts bulge, I lost myself and looked at her face again.
Y/n: thank you for your help, Miss...?.- I asked, arching my eyebrows
"Natasha" - she says giving me a beautiful smile and extends her hand I bring her hand to my lips placing a light kiss on the back of her hand, I did the whole movement while looking at her who didn't break the contact.
Y/N: it's a pleasure to meet you Natasha, my name is Y/n.- I smile, taking the woman's handWe hear the wood of the counter creaking, Carol arrived at the place with messy hair and fixing her own jacket, as soon as she notices us she gives me a mischievous smile and takes a tray leaving the place.
Natasha: Finally, what are you doing here?
Y/N: I have come for the money, I have to pay the university fees.
Natasha: I understand, do you know anyone here?
Y/N: Some of them are my professors - I speak and she is surprised
Natasha: gee, ....
Y/N: I know," I laugh, "would you like to go somewhere more private?I ask her ear and see her skin shiver.
She straightens up and walks out from behind the counter to leave, I didn't even have time to be embarrassed since she turned around and nodded. I followed her until we reached a bathroom that I would say was spacious.I pressed the woman against it, the kiss was rough and hurried. My hands went to the woman's waist, leaving a gentle squeeze on the spot.
She broke the kiss to give a soft moan and then pulled me back in. She pulled at every place her hands went, my hair, my neck, my collar, my waist, everything so that we could have more contact.I felt her desperation and grabbed her thighs and supported her on the sink in the bathroom, she intertwined her legs around my waist and I rubbed myself against her making her moan with the contact. I stop the kissing and go to her neck, squeeze her ass and she moans, tilting her head, giving me more access to her pulse point.I take advantage of the position to pull up her dress and take my thumb to her clit covered by her panties.
I noticed how wet the woman was, smiling over her skin I stimulated her clit with circular motions. She let out a moan near my ear, making me moan as well. My body burned just to make that woman moan for me. i pulled down her panties, sliding my fingers over her folds and felt the woman move for more contact. The position may be uncomfortable for me, but it doesn't matter.
A noise coming from the end of the hiding place put me on alert, but I didn't stop the movements, in fact the adrenaline only helped me by increasing the stimulation on the woman's clit. I kissed her to hold back the moans, and she responded in an instant. I felt the woman's body become more breathless and then I began to alternate the stimulation with penetrations over the woman's entrance.
I heard the footsteps and then decided to increase the speed, causing the woman to moan harder on my lips. I penetrated the woman's entrance one last time. Natasha hid her face in my neck to stifle a moan as she came. She bit my neck and sucked, I knew this would leave a mark, but I smiled.
"Cестра, I saw you come in there, we have to go." A voice came from behind the door, she was speaking Russian
Natalie answered in Russian as well but I didn't understand. I took my fingers from the woman and brought them to my lips. She looked at me with fire in her eyes as I sucked on the fingers that had the woman's liquid all over them. I was satisfied when she bit her lips.I helped her down, while she tried to adjust her dress. Straightened her hair, and she pulled my chin to deposit a lingering kiss on my lips. Then she turned, looked at me one last time, and left.
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poebot · 8 months
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At The Gay Bar
tags: bouncer!abby, established relationship ellie, fem!reader, jealousy
a/n: no one wrote it so i wrote... based on this post i made a while back. i haven’t stopped thinking about it. sorry that i haven’t written anything in ages :( exam season was kicking my ass
taglist: (people who said they wanted to see this in word form) @rubycruzsbitch @elsgirl
“you’re serious... you’ve never been to a gay bar before?” you wore an incredulous look on your face as ellie awkwardly shrugged, trying to look nonchalant about it.
your girlfriend wasn’t the type to frequent nightclubs. if it was up to her, she’d be spending tonight high as a kite sat by her gaming set up. but you’d insisted that she had to tag along with you because it was a ‘mandatory queer experience’. ellie knew deep down that you just wanted to get shit faced and have her close by simultaneously. you always ended up blowing up her phone whenever you got too drunk at parties, whining that you missed her and begging her to turn up or take you home. one of the drawbacks she’d learned to accept of dating an extrovert.
“cmon. you’ll have a good time, i promise.” you leaned in close, dropping the pitch of your voice and staring into her eyes. her ears flushed pink as she slid her toned arms around your waist to draw you in even closer, and you knew you’d convinced her.
the next hour or so was spent with you trying on different outfits and forcing ellie to help you pick one. her opinion was pretty useless, mostly consisting of monotoned ‘looks great babe’s as she shamelessly ogled you dress and undress in front of her.
“dude. you’re such a creep.” you sighed, shimmying your way into a different skirt. ellie rolled her eyes, approaching you from behind to help you pull up the zipper. “what, i can’t admire my girl?” she murmured, peppering warm kisses across the back of your neck.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
the heels of your platforms clack noisily against the sidewalk as you finally reach the front of the queue, the harsh bass of the music vibrating from within the club. excitement thrummed through your veins and you smiled brightly at ellie, squeezing her warm hand in yours. she smiled sheepishly back, returning your squeeze.
“gonna need to see some ID, princess.” a deep yet feminine voice captured your attention. you looked up to meet the gaze of the bouncer only to be truly taken aback by her appearance. she wore a fitted tank top that emphasised her ridiculously built upper body, her thick freckled arms folded across her chest and her expression stern. just as you were admiring her long hair neatly braided at the back of her head you realised she noticed you staring.
you squinted to read the blonde’s name tag, abby, before averting your eyes long enough to tap ellie’s arm, motioning for her to help you fish out your ID from your purse. you didn’t notice the way her eye twitched at the pet name. ellie dug into the bag and slapped the card into abby’s hand with more force than was probably necessary. abby didn’t react, simply flipping it over.
the woman analysed your license in silence with furrowed brows and her mouth downturned. you began to panic slightly, your glossy lips pursed. there was a slight chance that she was gonna turn you away. man, would that be a bummer. “it’s real.. pinkie promise.” you say in an attempt to lighten the mood. abby’s briefly looks up at you to meet your eyes before continuing to examine the ID card that you absently realise looks comically small in her large hands. ellie sighs impatiently, crossing her arms and staring up at the sky. you shoot her a look that screams ‘not helpful, babe.’
“hmm. can you smile for me?” the request caught you slightly off guard and you paused for a moment, chancing a glance at your girlfriend. her expression almost made you burst out laughing; you’ve never seen ellie look more aggravated. her eyebrows were raised in disbelief as she tries to make eye contact with abby to assert some form of control over the situation. when that doesn’t work, she lets out a perplexed ‘dude!’
the bouncer continues to completely ignore her and focuses her gaze on you, her brow raised expectantly. you relent. anything to get out of this line quicker. they’re playing your favorite song for fuck sake, and the longer you’re stood out here the higher the likelyhood ellie will change her mind about the night. so you beam up at her, flashing your best smile and abby’s stoic expression finally cracks into a grin of her own.
“yeah, there’s them pretty dimples. get in there baby.” abby motions into the bar with a wink. against your better judgment, you can’t help feeling flustered by the line. your mouth hangs open slightly as you stare up at her, rooted to the spot from the shock. you’re finally broken out of it by ellie shooting her a disgusted scowl and ushering you into the darkness of the bar. you try to school your expression before she notices the dopey smile spread wide across your face.
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mydemimonde · 9 months
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'Baby Said' — Modern!Aemond Targaryen x Reader
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divider is from @plutism
a/n: this idea came up after listening to 'baby said' by maneskin on loop, love them sm and that song too
Summary: After a few stolen glances and a drink, you walk up to the bar counter where the blonde man that caught your attention is sitting, looking for some fun.
Words: 4061
Warnings: +18 (minors dni), female reader, no use y/n nor specific physical description, desperate reader, swearing, dirty talk, a bit of choking, hand kink, praising, spitting, tiddy sucking, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, p in v sex, unprotected sex, creampie, slightly dominant aemond, overstim, riding, holy shit so many warnings let me know if i missed one! no proof reading
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Strong hands grip your waist as soon as you step foot into the place, soft lips tracing your neck as you grind your ass against his crotch, earning a deep groan from him. He closes the door with his foot and turns your body around to face him, and before he could say anything, you press your lips against his, your hands running over his clothed chest.
He starts walking, pushing you to the nearest wall as your bodies press together. His lips part slightly, letting you slip your tongue inside, and you tilt your head to deepen the kiss. Your hands go all the way up until you get to his broad shoulders, wrapping your arms around him as his hands cupped your ass, making you moan into his mouth.
He pulls away just to attack your neck again, taking his time to kiss, lick and nibble your skin. He pays attention to one particular spot, the one that made you squirm and shiver, something he learned a few moments before. You curse under your breath, and you feel him smirk.
“Eager, are we?” He taunts you, his hand squeezing one of your ass cheeks as you grind against him again, your fingers fumbling with the buttons of his shirt.
“Aemond, please… no more teasing” you sigh, as if you were annoyed. His blue eyes examining your face, relishing your desperate state —heavy breathing, lips red and swollen, cheeks flushed and enticing eyes.
He brings his hand to your cheek to stroke it as the other one caresses your waist, his head tilted to the side as he smirks. “We have the whole night, baby. No need to hurry” he runs his thumb over your lower lip, your tongue darting out just a little. His eyes widen in surprise when your lips close over his finger, closing your eyes as you suck. When you look at him he’s licking his lips, leaning in again to kiss you passionately, slowly, as if your lips were fragile. The same way he kissed you earlier, in the middle of the dance floor.
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It was the second mojito you had with your friends, celebrating that you finally graduated from college. Arianne, your friend from work and college, had suggested that you celebrate by going to the famous nightclub Sunfyre, which was located in one of the most expensive districts in King’s Landing.
So there you were, sitting with your friends around a small round table, the neon lights flickering with the rhythm of the music blasting from the speakers. It was Arianne’s turn to buy the drinks, but this time she went for vodka shots.
You cheered with your friends and at the count of three, you all knocked back the liquid, your eyes closing shut at the burning feeling in your throat. All of you clapped and hollered in celebration, unintentionally attracting the attention of some locals around you, but you actually didn’t care. All you wanted was to have a good time with your friends.
As you listened to one of your other friends Lena talking about some anecdote during her summer holidays, you couldn’t shake off the spine-chilling feeling that you were being watched. You pressed your lips together as your eyes scanned the crowded bar, until you found a pair of blue piercing eyes. A playful smirk adorned the man’s face as he looked at you, he was sitting on a stool leaning against the counter, his back turned to the bartender, legs spread. You’ve never thought that manspreading would look so sexy. You gave him a coy smile before turning your attention back to Lena’s story.
The music played loud in the background, people danced and grinded against each other on the dancefloor, your friends were telling funny anecdotes while you were on the fourth drink of the night and you could still feel the man’s piercing gaze on you. Surprisingly for you it wasn’t at all uncomfortable. It was great for your ego that a man like him was looking at you like that, as if he wanted to devour you. Both of you sneaked glances at each other, but neither of you made a move.
You felt a tap on your shoulder and you whip your head around, as if you were caught doing something wrong. “What the hell are you looking at, hun?” Asked Arianne, almost screaming in your ear above the music. You pressed your lips as she squinted her eyes and looked around, trying to find what —or who— was stealing your attention from them. She gave you a sly grin, lightly slapping your arm repeatedly. “Hot stuff looking at you like you’re a full course meal. C’mon, go over there and talk to the guy! He looks expensive, he could be your sugar daddy” you giggled as she wiggled her eyebrows, taking a sip from her margarita.
What Arianne said was true, he looked rather expensive. His platinum hair combed to one side, clad in effortless style —a black t-shirt with the first two buttons casually undone, the sleeves rolled up revealing his forearms, a pair of dark jeans and polished shoes. You wanted nothing more but to feel his hands on you. Maybe that was the alcohol talking, maybe not. A long time passed since you’ve been properly fucked —your ex broke up with you two years ago, and after that you only had boring dates and bad hookups, leaving you with no other choice but to use your fingers and toys to get yourself off. You needed to get fucked, and this man looked like a good hookup.
Before you could open your mouth to say something, a waitress came up to you and left a drink on the table. You and your friends looked at one another in confusion. “Uhm, sorry, but we didn’t order this…” you pointed at the drink that was placed right in front of you.
“I know. An admirer sent it to you” the blonde woman winked at you and left, Arianne chuckling and the rest of the girls oohing at you. You shake your head and feel your cheeks burning, knowing exactly who sent it. Him.
“It’s a sex on the beach!” exclaimed Arianne. “He’s begging you, honey, and you haven’t had a good shag in a while” she raised an eyebrow at you. You jokingly rolled your eyes and grabbed the glass, turning your attention to the man at the counter, who was unsurprisingly looking at you. You raised the glass and he did the same, cheering with you in the air and at the distance, as he gave you a slight nod. Both of you took a sip of your respective beverages, keeping eye contact.
You placed the glass back on the table, stirring your drink with the straw as you thought about what to do next, the alcohol making you feel more courageous to do something and Arianne’s words ringing in your head. “Hey, mind if I leave you for a bit? ‘M gonna talk to that guy” you got off the stool and point at the counter with a movement of your head, your friends making high-pitched sounds of victory at your decision.
“Go get that dick!” Whispered-shouted Lena, Arianne hitting the table repeatedly. You blew them a kiss and grabbed your sex on the beach, strutting down to the guy. As soon as he saw you his smirk got wider and he sat straighter, looking at you like you were his prey.
“Hi there” you said as you sat in the stool next to him, the short dress you were wearing hiking up your thigh just a little bit.
“Hey. Enjoying the night?” His voice was deep and smooth, making you feel all sorts of things in your stomach. He moved so that he was facing you, his forearm resting on the counter.
You nodded. “Yeah. Graduation and all, quite the occasion to celebrate.”
He lifted an eyebrow, eyes examining your figure. “Oh? Congratulations, then. Cheers.” He replied and again, raised his cup to toast with you. You smiled at him and your glasses clinked. You drank and then, he brought a hand to his chest, as if he was apologising. “Sorry if I seemed too forward by inviting you for a drink. Didn’t dare to interrupt your conversation with your friends when you were so into it... didn't seem fair to steal you from them.”
Now it was your turn to smile. You turned your body towards him too, resting one arm on the counter and crossing your legs. “It’s okay. I was actually going to talk to you, eventually. My friends were insisting.”
He chuckled in response. “Well, thank your friends for me. I’m Aemond Targaryen.” Targaryen… the surname did ring a bell. You introduced yourself as well, and both began talking, enjoying each other’s company. He was leaning over you more and more with each passing minute, and when his fingers grazed over your arm you felt electric shocks all over your body, his gaze on you was so intense you could barely form any coherent thought. He was so close that you could smell his cologne, something spicy and leathery, utterly intoxicating.
“Would you like to dance?” He suggested, narrowing his eyes.
“Of course” he stood up and offered you his hand, which you gladly took. You noticed how tall he was, towering over you and making you feel small. You led him to the middle of the dance floor, and on the way there, out of the corner of your eye, you saw your friends watching you two, proud smiles on their faces.
When you got there your body started moving to the rhythm of the music, feeling Aemond’s hands on your waist as you danced. Your bodies were pressed together amidst the sea of people, feeling his breath on your neck as he moved with you. Feeling bold you started grinding against his body, bringing one hand up to place it on the nape of his neck, his hands lightly squeezing the flesh of your waist. The place was getting more and more crowded; the lights flickering and the fake smoke coming from the fog machines were making it harder to see clearly.
His eyes lowered to your lips when you turned to face him, he started leaning in slowly until his nose nudged against yours. You closed your eyes as you felt his soft lips moving against yours, tenderly yet passionately. His hands cupped your face as his tongue explored your mouth, cocking his head to the side. No one’s ever kissed you like that, he was such a good kisser.
Your hands found their way around his slim waist, the kiss was getting more and more intense that you had to pull back for a moment to catch your breaths. If it weren’t for that, you would still be kissing him nonstop. Aemond took the opportunity to leave soft pecks along your jaw, going down the side of your neck until he sucked on a particular spot that made you throw your head back and whine. It didn’t matter that you were in the middle of the dancefloor, surrounded by people —they were engrossed in dancing and drinking, it’s not like they were looking at you—. You just wanted him.
As if he could read your mind, he looked at you. “Shall we get out of here?”
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And that’s how you ended up in the apartment of this stranger, kissing and fumbling with each other’s clothes, feeling his erection on your thigh as he hiked up your dress to feel your skin. Aemond pulls back just to kiss your neck again, it’s like he’s addicted to that part of your body. He grabs your legs and picks you up so easily, you wrap your legs around his waist as he starts moving to find a more comfortable place.
You finally get to unbutton his shirt, running your hands all over the visible skin. He isn’t ripped like the guys at the gym, but you can tell that he certainly works out. He almost trips on the way to his bed, chuckling at the way your hands shake when you start unbuckling his jeans. “Fuck, you’re really desperate, huh?” He deposits you on the comfortable bed, looking at him as he takes off his shirt, your breathing heavy when he unbuckles his jeans, getting rid of them quickly, his cock straining against his white boxers.
Aemond grabs you by the ankles and drags you towards him, making you yelp. He lifts one of your legs to undo the straps of your stilettos, and as he does the same with the other you prop up on your arms to take a moment to appreciate him. His tousled hair, his knitted brows in concentration, his slightly parted lips, his long, aquiline nose and the small and almost invisible freckles adorning his shoulders.
When he’s done he hovers over you, arms on either side of your body as he leans in for another kiss. He’s positioned in between your legs and brings one hand to your chest, cupping your right breast over the dress. You whine in his mouth and he smirks. “I love those little sound you make for me… makes me wonder how you would sound when I-”
“Aemond, shut up and fuck me already” you interrump him in an irritated and desperate tone, catching him by surprise. He stares at you, mouth agape before grinning.
“Relax baby, I’m gonna do just that, but… you’re too dressed for my liking” his fingers start pulling the straps of your dress down. He lets out a gasp when he sees you naked, except for your lacy black panties. He stares at your tits and bites his lip, fingers pinching your nipples. “You’ve got beautiful tits, baby.” He immediately takes one of them in his mouth, his tongue swirling around the pebbled nipple, making you throw your head back and whine, your fingers tangling in his hair.
You grind your hips against his, trying to get some friction on your aching cunt. You’re sure you’re dripping by now, he’s got you like that since the moment he laid eyes on you. Aemond moves his hand down your body while he continues sucking on your nipple. When he finally gets to the place you needed him most, both of you release a moan.
“Fuck, you’re soaking wet.” Aemond says in a low and raspy voice when his fingertips meet the wet spot in your underwear. He kisses every inch of your skin before getting in between your legs and slides down your panties, pleased with the view of your glistening entrance. He traces two of his fingers along your slit, feeling your arousal coating them. “You’re fucking dripping on my fingers, baby. Hmm, the things I could do to this sweet pussy.”
You moan at his filthy words, breath heavy as you watch him kiss and nibble your inner thighs before giving your pussy a tentative lick, eyes set on you, revelling in the way you writhe and whine. Your hands tug at his hair instinctively as he gently sucks on your clit, then he licks the length of your cunt, his grunts sending vibrations all over you.
“Oh, f-fuck, yes” you squeal, eyes closed shut as he buries his face between your thighs, lapping at you eagerly, his nose rubbing expertly against your bud. He pushes you down with his arm when you start bucking your hips, preventing you from moving as he keeps feasting on your cunt. “Don’t— s-stop!” You gasp, back arching as pleasure invades your senses, the band in your stomach growing tighter.
“Y’ gonna cum, pretty girl?” Aemond murmurs around your clit, a small huff leaving his lips when your thighs wrap around his head, pulling him even closer. “C’mon baby, lemme hear you. Cum all over my mouth” He coaxes before sucking your clit again, swirling his tongue around the bud as you fall apart on his tongue, whines and high-pitched moans spilling past your lips. “Atta girl” he praises you as you try to recover from the mindblowing orgasm he gave you. He doesn’t stop sucking at your folds, the erotic slurping noises of his mouth making you blush, licking every single drop of your arousal. Aemond wipes his chin, coated in your juices, and hovers over you again, covering your face with kisses. “You taste divine, pretty girl. You did so good for me.”
He brings his arm above your head, fingers playing with your hair while his other hand gently squeezes your cheeks. “Open” you do as told and he spits in your mouth, you gladly swallow before he kisses you. You moan into his mouth when you feel his index and middle fingers tease your wet entrance. He pulls back to watch your reactions as he slides them in, gingerly moving them, curling them and reaching the rough patch inside you, making you gasp. He smirks. “That’s the spot, hmm?” Aemond finger fucks you, leaving open mouthed kisses along your neck and jaw. You breathe heavily, feeling another orgasm already building. “Fuck, can feel you squeezing my fingers, love. Let go, pretty girl.” His jaw drops open as he watches you come, groaning when he feels your cunt clenching around his fingers. Your lips form a perfect O shape, eyes closed shut and legs trembling. “You look so pretty when you cum, baby.”
When you open your eyes you find Aemond staring at you, a soft smile adorning his face. “There she is,” she caresses your cheek and you chuckle, bringing one of your hands to his boxers. He gulps when you start palming him, feeling how hard he is. He gets rid of his boxers and his cock springs out, the tip already leaking precum. You’ve never seen such a nice cock in your life, all you want to do is put your mouth on it. He reads your mind, once again. “You can suck me another day, all I want now is to bury my cock inside you. Is that okay, pretty girl?” You nod eagerly and sit on the bed, pushing him onto the mattress as you straddle him, taking him by surprise. “Well, well, well.” He chuckles darkly, feeling your hands travel all over his chest and abdomen. He reaches out for a condom in the drawer next to his bed, but you stop him.
“I’m okay without. I’m clean and on the pill, I really want to feel you” you bite your lip, hoping he says yes. Aemond smirks, telling you he’s clean as well, and you lean in for a tender, passionate kiss. You move one hand to grab him, slowly guiding him into your entrance. Both of you let out breathy moans when the tip slides in your wet cunt, stretching you.
“Holy s-shit” Aemond’s head is thrown back, jaw clenched and hands on either side of your hips, his fingers digging in. When you sink down onto him completely, you stay there for a moment, trying to adjust to his size. Your nails rake down his chest and he whines, eyes sweeping over your figure. His hands also travel through your body, up your thighs until he reaches your breasts, gently squeezing them. His hands are big, you noticed.
You start moving up and down his length, moaning and whimpering and head thrown back. “You feel so good, Aemond. Fuck” you murmur, bouncing on his cock. You feel him curse under you, his hips meeting yours in every thrust, filling you to the brim. You let out a particularly high-pitched moan when he brings one hand to your throat.
“Oh, you like that, don’t you?” Aemond rasps, licking his lips before applying more pressure, slightly choking you as you continue moving, increasing your pace. Your eyes roll to the back of your skull at the feeling of his hands wrapped around your throat, driving you closer and closer to your orgasm. “God, you’re squeezing so deliciously, sweet girl. Y’ gonna cum all over my cock, hmm?”
“Oh my God, yes, fuck, fuck, fuck!” You say through strangled moans, cunt clenching around him as you come, collapsing on his chest. He immediately wraps his arms around you as he keeps thrusting up into you, not letting you rest. He flips both of you over, fucking you slowly. You sob when his thumb circles over your sensitive bud, trying to squirm away. “T-too much, please.”
Aemond cocks his head and frowns. “Can’t take another one, huh? I thought you wanted me to fuck you, pretty girl.” He taunts, voice trembling as he ruts into you. You grasp onto his shoulders, nails digging into his skin and tears welling up in your eyes from the amount of pleasure and overstimulation you were receiving. “You can give me another one, baby, c’mon. I know you can” he coos, kissing and nibbling your neck.
He watches with a wicked grin as your mouth hangs open, whines and moans escaping and eyes fluttering when the head of his cock repeatedly hits your sweet spot. “Fucking come, baby, soak my cock.” Aemond commands. The squelching sounds of your cunt while he fucks you together with his praises and moans are enough to make the knot in your stomach finally snap. You moan his name loudly, your legs shaking around his waist.
In the back of your head, you hear Aemond grunting and growling, the sounds he makes are distant over the blood rushing through your ears; but you notice his thrusts becoming sloppier and his cock twitching inside you. “Fuck, fuck, baby, I’m gonna- fucking gonna cum.” That’s what brings you back to your senses, you open your heavy lidded eyes and watch him come. With a few more thrusts he spills himself inside you, coating your walls in warm spend. You’ve never seen nor heard someone come so beautifully, the sight was enough to make you let out a small moan.
His lips were parted, brows knitted together and body shaking above you. Aemond rests his head in the crook of your neck as you try to come down from your highs, embracing each other. You stay like that for a moment before he moves his head to look at you, small drops of sweat trickling down his forehead. You smile at him and close the distance by placing your lips on his, kissing him sensually.
After the make out session, Aemond pulls out of you slowly, hissing at the loss of contact. You bite your lip when you feel his cum leaking out of your pussy, he gathers it and presses it back slowly before giving a kiss to your centre.
He goes to the bathroom and brings wet cloths to clean you up, being careful not to hurt you. When both of you are done, he hands you your panties. You look too tired to stand up, but you know you have to go. After all, it was just a one night stand, and you have to work tomorrow.
“You can stay the night, if you want” Aemond suggests after putting on his boxers. He can really read your mind, it’s kinda creepy, you think. “I mean, it’s too late to go back to your apartment, plus there’s a storm coming.” He presses his lips, as if telling you that you had no choice but to stay.
After weighing your options, you decide to stay. He grins and hands you one of his t-shirts, so that you don’t have to sleep in your dress —or naked. You put it on, smelling the clean fabric and lie down on the comfy mattress, covering yourself with the soft sheets. Aemond lies next to you, and after wishing each other good night, you drift off to sleep.
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The next morning, Aemond wakes up to the sound of his annoying alarm. He runs his hands over his face, and looks around the room when he doesn’t find you. A small yellow post it note on top of his drawer catches his attention. He reads it and smiles. You left your phone number and your name below.
“Thanks for an amazing night. Text me if you want to grab some coffee or if you want to do it again ;)”
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taglist: @melsunshine @tsujifreya @fan-goddess
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foryouwereinmysong · 11 months
Text
“Now and then, I miss you / Now and then, I want you to be there for me / Always to return to me,” (...) It’s a passage where Lennon’s yearning for McCartney intertwines with Paul’s mourning for John, a shared grieving for the partnership that defined both their lives. link
"Now and Then" is 81-year-old Paul McCartney finishing a song of John Lennon, who has been gone for almost 43 years.
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But it is also 15-year-old Paul finishing a song of the boy who wandered around Liverpool with him, talking about their future and love of music.
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It is 18-year-old Paul finishing a song of the guy who picked him as his partner and took him to play nightclubs in Hamburg.
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It is 20-year-old Paul finishing a song of the lad who wanted to write song after song with him.
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It is 23-year-old Paul finishing a song of the man he made history with.
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It is 24-year-old Paul finishing a song of the soulmate who shared his visions.
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It is 26-year-old Paul finishing a song of the person who serenaded him eating a cupcake.
It is 31-year-old Paul finishing a song of John, who loved him in his own way.
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And it is 39-year-old Paul finishing a song of the friend he just lost.
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acotarxreader · 3 months
Text
Silence in the Shadows
Azriel x Reader
Synopsis: Hewn City has been hit by a fresh crime wave, stumping the inner circle as they search for a solution. Azriel meets you in a crowded bar while trying to escape the stresses that the City was supplying him. But after a spur of the moment night together, Azriel is left wondering if the girl he spent the night with is truly all what she seems?
Warnings: Smut, angst, a lil action, typos
A/N: This has been reworked a million times and now I just think I have to post it so it can be free of the WIP graveyard. Let me know what you think of this friends???
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Azriel allowed his shadows to swirl into the flashing lights of the nightclub deep within the City of Nightmares. Cassian span Nesta around in the drowning music as Azriel leaned on the bar top, watching his friends release some heavy tension they’d all been feeling. His head gently bobbed to the music while taking a deep drink from the heavy bottomed tumbler in his hand. Any and all attempts his friends made to separate him from the ledge of oak he rested against were futile, all until his eyes of the same colour landed on a fae he didn’t know. You moved through the crowd with an ease that rivaled his movements, head slightly ducked, obscuring your full facade. Cassian turned to attempt to pull his brother into the moment only to find the section of bar top bare again. 
“Hello there” You jolted slightly at his soft words from behind you, your hand on the release of the back exit of the Hewn City haunt. 
“Hi” You didn’t look back towards Azriel, your hand pressing the release bar to free you back to the street only to have it reject your request. You sighed, turning back to take in the beautiful Ilyrian, it stopping you in your tracks as much as the locked door. 
“Stuck with us?” He grinned at you and you found yourself uncharacteristically returning the same. Azriel felt an odd sense of calm wash over him, his shadows seemingly floating to his feet, suddenly too lethargic to leap to him with information about the fae in front of him. 
“It would seem so” you shouted back over the music.
“Why leave such a wonderful party?” His sarcastic tone accompanied his outstretched hand while it gestured to the chaotic party scene in front of you both. 
“I was just looking for someone” For a fleeting moment your eyes crossed Rhysand path across the dance floor, so quickly that anyone other than a great spymaster may miss.
“Ah, our High Lord, I can introduce you to him?” Azriel’s best effort to hide is slight jealousy at not being the object of your eyes failed him and another grin grew on your face. 
“Not tonight-emm?”
“Azriel”
“YN” You returned, your voices getting lost in the booming sound system.
“I thought you were looking for him?” Azriel couldn’t help but pick up on that little detail. You blinked away the question, offering your hand out towards him.
“Dance with me instead?” Your own question surprised you and he couldn’t help but accept the offer, Cassian nudging Mor in the background at the sight of their dear friend dancing with a stranger in person. 
The night was spent in the great company of one another, unable to keep from one anothers orbit as you both effortlessly melted into the chaotic scene. You both stayed on the outskirts of the dancefloor, away from Azriel’s family that you observed when Azriel was lost to the beat of the music. The night was escaping both of you quickly, Azriel felt as though he was trapped in a parallel universe where only the two of your occupied. Rhysand passed a large pint glass into his brothers hand as he passed the both of you, bringing Azriel out of his illusion.
“And what will you have Azriel’s lady?” Charisma and curiosity radiated from the towering Ilyrian. 
“Rhys she’s not m-”
“-I’ll have a martini, Rhys, like Rhysand right?” 
“The infamous” He beamed back before shimmying back to the bar top for your order, your eyes evaluating the motion with a scrutinising gaze familiar to Azriel.
“Planning on leaving me for a dance partner upgrade YN?” he called out to you jokingly, your attention being pulled back to the somewhat air of seriousness in the undertone of his voice. 
“You’re holding your own Azriel” You smiled while his hazel eyes heated your face over the rim of his beer, your head tilting temptingly towards him, your teeth grazing your bottom lip. 
You never got that martini from Rhysand. Instead you were liplocked with Azriel as your back was pressed flushed into the front door of Azriel’s Hewn City accommodation. 
Your legs wrap around his torso, your chests clinging to one another as if your lives depend on it, both becoming more hungry in your actions. The pulsating energy between the two of you clouded your brain from the questions that previously sat at the forefront while Azriel’s hands tracing up your back in search of the zipper of your dress took all his attention. 
“Why-are-you-guys-in-Hewn?” You managed between the practically touch starved kissing, trying to refocus your mind. 
“Hewn City is a great stressor in our lives right now” he rushed out before meeting your lips again dropping you down on top of his bed, his hands quickly going to pull his shirt from his chest. 
“What?” you breathed out, pulling at the straps of your own dress, your own question long forgotton.
“You asked why we were here” the sound of his shirt hitting the wooden floor hand your eyes tracing over his vast muscles 
“Emm oh yeah whatever” You reached up for the Shadowsinger, pulling him down to connect back to you with a burning desire you had never previously felt with someone, Azriel sharing the sentiment.
Azriel kissed you sweetly before moving down the shape of your body, peppering kisses along the trail to your entrance. You felt your legs begin to tremble under his touch, begging for more as his fingers began to play with your clit, your hands tangling in his hair with a moan. Your pulse nearly hit the roof, the feeling of pleasure shuddering through you, his rough but delicate fingers entering you, massaging you as they slide to your core. You dig your nails into his bare shoulders, riding his thrusting fingers as he groans at the sight. The tension built in your abdomen, the greatest realess you ever had just a few movements away until he stopped entirely. You looked down between your legs to meet his eyes as he moved to hover above you again, discarding his own trousers in the process. You rasped out what air you could until Azriel’s mouth stole the breath away again. 
Azriel slowly then began to enter you, you both almost meeting your release at the feeling. He slowly began to drag in and out as the sensation grew with its addictive nature, he increased his speed, spurred on by your hitching breath. Your head fell back as you both began to sink into synchronised movement. The pressure growing and growing and growing, your fingers digging into his shoulders as your back arched until the band snapped sending you into overdrive as every nerve in your body stood to attention and then exploded. You practically screamed his name sending him over the edge, returning the sentiment by moaning your name, collapsing next to you while riding out his high. You rolled to your side slowly, your hands tucked beneath your cheek against the pillow, your eyes watch Azriel’s chest try to return the balanced breath he was accustomed to. He raised a shaky hand, a snap of a finger sent a buttery soft sheet to cover you both before he laid that same arm across your waist to pull you in towards him. 
“I- fucking hell I needed that” He found himself laughing as you smiled up to him through your lashes. 
“Stressed out lately Spymaster?”
“You have no idea” Azriel yawned out, missing the use of his title by you. Your smile faltered slightly before a rush of pure panic at what you had just done rattled through your body. Azriel’s grip tightened on you as he pulled you in further into his chest, silencing the rising alarm in your chest, you would deal with the repercussions in the morning. 
-
Cassians fist rattling against the solid door with Azriel’s wake up call had him bolting out of the sheets with the fright, never one to oversleep. He looked back towards the space you had previously occupied now empty. He felt a wash of disappointed at the sight, it stolen away by Cassians yelling on the otherside of the door once again. He would process the night later, he had work to do right now. 
—---------------------------
 “I fucked it”
“Have another drink Az, it was a bad day at the office”
“Except our office is the battlefields and the cursed streets of this fucking city” Azriel took the large stein of alcohol from Cassian, nearly sinking it in one gulp, the rotting bar in Hewn City bubbling around the two cloaked Illyrians. 
“Rhys is up there now trying to fix things with Keir, we’ll find the fifty” Cassian offered, tightening the next written plans of action he had tighter into his leathers beneath the cloak as the bar grew in masses.
“He shouldn’t be cleaning up after my mess, I should know where those Fae are gone” He sank another jug of alcohol before standing, having had enough wallowing, Cassian followed him out into the dark streets. Residents of the City avoided the two figures like the plague as the two Illyrians made it back to where the Court sat. 
“If you go in there, you’ll anger Keir even more, he’s just heard of the influx of illegal medicinals entering the city” Cassian said with a strong but hushed tone, catching up to Azriel with ease. 
“Another one of my blind spots, don’t remind me Cass” Azriel fought the urge to run his hands down his face in disgrace
“You know Rhys has been somewhat…limiting of our use since Nyx was born, the mother hening is preventing you from doing your job” Azriel agreed with Cassian as suddenly an obscured body bumped his brother's shoulder while passing him.
“Sorry” was said muffled by a female voice, Cassain took no notice and continued his stride, Azriel looked over his shoulder briefly to find the figure gone again, stopping in his tracks.
“What?”
“Odd in an empty path they couldn’t avoid you” 
“It doesn’t matter Az-Az!” Cassian’s eyes grew wide as his hand went beneath his cloak to the suddenly cold empty space where the Court papers had been. Without speaking, the two brothers ditched their cloaks and separated in pursuit of the thief. 
They coursed through the streets in opposite directions, passing through the residents like they were made of air. Azriel’s shadows raced ahead and back again, relaying information to him as fast as they flew until they darted down a narrow side street without returning, Azriel’s indication to follow suit. He collided with the hooded figure forcing her against a crumbling brick wall, his forearm flush with her throat as his shadows leapt with excitement at catching their prey. 
“And where do you think you’re going?” he seethed out, jostling the female slightly, given the stress he was under he was very much in the mood to act now and question later. 
“Oh, t-he S-hadow-singer” she rasped out through her narrowing larynx. He snatched the hood from the female, revealing a glowing but sharp young face, she could hardly be more than twenty, Azriel releasing the smallest amount of pressure on her. 
“Give what you have taken and I will leave you live” he chewed out, a smirk growing across her small face. 
“Oh Shadowsinger, you can have it, you are much more valuable” he raised an eyebrow to the cocky fae until a new voice came from behind him.
“For fuck sake Dahlia” was the last thing he heard before being sent into a deep sleep by the lid of a bin from behind.
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Azriel’s head rolled off of his chest as he swung his heavy head back to take in his new surroundings. He shook his head gently from side to size, squeezing his eyes together before forcing the dark and damp room into focus. He moved to stand, the heavy sickly weight of chains behind his back kept him welded to the chair. 
“Don’t struggle, you’ll only tire yourself out” the females voice cut through the darkness, quickly reminding Azriel that this was not his home. A broad male stalked over to him, before catching his chin and forcing Azriel’s head to meet his gaze. 
“I’m not sure if she’ll be happy with this Dahlia” his low growl of a laugh gained an eye-roll from the twenty-year-old female Azriel now knew as Dahlia. He would not forget her name and face, she was to be added to a long list he kept in his head. 
“She’s busy welcoming the new ones, besides he went down like a logged tree Orion, doesn’t really align with the formidable character she portrays him as” Dahlia entered the space next to Azriel as the broad figure released his chin with a jerk
“Let me out of these bonds and we’ll see” Azriel spat, unable to call his shadows to his side. The swift brute force of a gloved heavy hand met the side of Azriels face, blood flowing from his lip on contact. 
“Don’t speak unless spoken to” Orion chewed out gaining another eye-roll from Dahlia. 
“Don’t break the new toy Or” a clear, crisp voice floated to Azriels humming ears from a shaded corner of the room. Azriel noticed Orion's face darken further as Dahlia’s smirk turned into a grin. 
“I thought I asked you to bring an egg, not the fucking chicken” the voice continued, shrouded in shadow as the grin left Dahlia just as quickly to the sharp words.
“Release him back, unless you have anything useful to say for yourself” 
“Answer Shadowsinger” Orion chewed
“Oh apologies, I wasn’t sure if it was only when you spoke to me that I to answer” Azriel's words dripping with sarcasm, Orion's fist took hold of Azriels shirt, almost lifting him from his chair. 
“Huh, cute-” you gave a slight half laugh through your nose “-I hate to interrupt you and Orions flirting but it’s time for you to go” 
“But I just lugged his heavy ass all the way here, you’re not going to even try to get answers from him” Dahlia almost whined out the words like a small child, your eyes never leaving Azriel until a smile grew underneath your bandana.
“He doesn’t have any answers, he has nothing, that’s why he’s not trying to escape, he’s trying to see what answers we have” Azriel felt his own small smirk grow at your words, like two tigers feeling one another out before one would strike. 
“Why not kill me?” more sarcasm comes from Azriel as Dahlia moves towards him, ready to send him to sleep again, Orion releasing his shirt.
“Why would we do that when we’re having so much fun watching you struggle to do your job-” Dahlias smile returning to her “-fancy another sleep Shadowsinger?”
“Don’t fucking touch me” You scoffed again from the darkened corner to his protest, taking the scene in before speaking again.
“Dahlia, darling no more knocking out members of Rhys’ Court unless asked, they make rather annoying prisoners” Something about the way you said the High Lord’s name struck Azriel’s mind like echoing memories, in such a callous but casual tone of familiarity. 
“No, it can’t be” he said so quietly he thought no one had heard him, a sigh left your voice before your boots moved with a gentle thud along the stone, entering the strip of light that illuminated Azriel. You had a scarf pulled up and across your face from the bridge of your nose down, your piercing eyes cut through Azriel with almost an addictive nature. 
“Hello Azriel” you narrowed your eyes over the rim of fabric before simply blinking once, Dahlia crashing Azriel into a deep another unwelcomed sleep. 
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Whatcha think?
Part Two
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dilemmaontwolegs · 10 months
Note
hiiii, I'm new here. saw that your reqs r closed but I'd like to share one scenario idea. the choice is yours whether to write it or not.
Daniel (or Carlos) is your bff. You see each other rarely because of his career. It's summer break, he's back home and you've just had your heartbroken by an asshole. You convince you friend group that you need to go out & celebrate Daniel's (or Carlos') comeback in the hope of getting laid. As the night goes on the driver is more n more frustrated with the guys you choose. He get a lil too much to drink n becomes possessive of you, starts touching you intimately and doesn't care about people surrounding. The night ends in a bedroom where he fucks you slow and sensually like he thinks you deserve and none of those jackasses in the club could
hope you've a nice vacation
Peace out ✌🏾
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This is for Carlos since Daniel hasn't gotten rid of that moustache yet
Red Flags || CS55
Warnings: 18+ only, NSFW, smut, oral, friends to lovers WC: 2.4k
It hurt a little that the first notification you received that Carlos was back home came from a gossip page you followed. Maybe it shouldn’t come as such a surprise when a distance had grown after you started dating Marco, you weren’t sure if Carlos even knew what had happened since the last time you spoke to him. Your families were close, but even your parents were reluctant to speak to anyone about the breach of privacy your ex had caused, the photos he had tried to leak. It had cost a huge sum to keep them from being published and you had been trying to get over the betrayal since.
Recent coping methods included the company of your friends and the string of nightclubs that lined the beachfront.
“I picked up a stray,” Liana called out as she walked into your house without knocking. You could always count on your friend to be up for a party and she had accepted the invite before anyone else. You stuck your head out of the living room where you had been pouring yourself a stiff drink and found her arm curled around the back of Carlos. “A handsome one too.”
You couldn’t believe it had been nearly six months since you last saw him and it looked like he had somehow matured even more. His beard had filled out to cover his entire jaw and his hair was lush and dark. 
Excitement filled you and you rushed towards him as he opened his arms with a smile. “Carlito!” 
“Bomboncita,” he replied with a laugh, his strong arms tightening around you as he picked you up and twirled in a circle. “Missed you too.”
“Come out with us, let’s celebrate your win!” You didn’t wait for an answer as you rushed back to get your clutch with your ID and cash.
“She just wants to get laid,” Liana whispered to Carlos. “You can help me keep her away from any red flags.”
There was one thing you could always count on and that was Liana to be the mother of the group. More mature than the rest of your friends put together, she always made sure you got home safe. Everyone else lived in the city but the mansion your parents had given you was out on the coast, thankfully she was more than happy to sober drive for you. Unfortunately, the only cars on the driveway were two seater sports cars.
That was how you ended up starting your night sitting on Carlos’ lap.
“This reminds me of old times, bombón,” he murmured as you looped an arm around his neck and held on tight. 
“I don’t know how you passed basic maths,” you shot back with a laugh before looking at Liana. “He would always invite more people than we have seats for during the summer break.”
Liana shook her head with a smirk. “Maybe he just liked having you on his lap.”
“What guy wouldn’t,” you joked, well accustomed to the years of teasing over your close friendship with Carlos. But for all the times you sat in this very position, he had never seen you as more than a friend. 
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“Should we stop her?” Carlos asked, a quiet growl in his words as he watched you dance with another man. Your hips were too enticing, too sexy, and he had to look away to down his drink and quench the sudden thirst he had. 
Liana didn’t seem fazed by your ability to hook a man in with a seductive smile and dance with them until Carlos interrupted or they said something that made you push them away. 
“No way, she deserves to have some fun after what happened with Marco.”
He placed the empty glass on the bartop and turned his attention to Liana, a frown etched into his forehead. “What happened with Marco?” 
“Oh, she should probably be the one to tell you. I thought you knew.”
A woman in a very low cut dress slipped between Liana and Carlos, interrupting their conversation as she placed a hand on his arm. “You’re that driver, right? Want to dance?”
Carlos shook his head with a polite ‘no thanks’ and brushed her hand off his, rubbing the spot on his sleeve to erase the feel of her touch. “What did he do, Lee?”
The tone left no arguing and Liana chewed her lip nervously before giving in and leaning closer so no one overheard. 
Rage burned through Carlos in a way he had never felt before. He had felt anger, sure, frustration too, but this was white hot and liquid molten in his veins, deep in his core. He was lucky that Marco wasn’t in the same city or he would surely be finding himself on the wrong side of the law at that moment.
Carlos didn’t even realise he had crossed the room until his fist bunched into the shirt of the man holding you close and he pushed the stranger away, ignoring the protests he made. 
“Carlito!” you giggled as you wrapped your arms around his neck. “Dance with me.”
Some of the fire eased as your fingers twirled the strands of hair at his nape and his hands came to rest naturally on your hips as he pulled you closer. “We have a lot of catching up to do, bomboncita.”
You looked up as the odd tone cut through your buzz and immediately knew what he knew. His own eyes were a little unfocused and you could smell the whiskey on his breath, not helping him to control his emotions. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
The air hissed between your teeth as you sucked in a breath and dipped your chin down so you didn’t have to look him in the eyes. “You would have said I told you so.”
His hand slipped away from your body and you missed the heat of it instantly but then it was cradling your throat, his thumb pushing your chin back up and forcing you to connect with his dark irises. “I told you he wasn’t good for you, he wouldn’t treat you how you deserve.”
“Carlito...” It was a familiar argument every time you had a boyfriend. He would always find reasons to dislike them.
“Listen, please, bombón,” he said as he took a step closer so every inch of his body was flush against yours. His lips brushed your cheek as he turned your head away and whispered the secret he had kept all these years. “Let me show you how you should be treated.”
Surprise filled you and you licked your dry lips at the thought of what he was implying. “Here?” you asked breathlessly and his laugh warmed your cheek.
“No, bombón,” he all but purred as he teased the column of your neck with his nose and his hands danced over the curve of your ass. “What I want to do to you…no, not here.”
His eyes narrowed at someone behind you and you turned to see it was someone you had been dancing with earlier. You couldn’t remember his name, or maybe he hadn’t even told you it, either way you had no interest in taking the drink he offered.
“Red flag, mate,” Carlos growled as he pulled you under his arm and put himself between you and the stranger. “Walk away.”
The man wisely walked away and you laughed as you stepped back into Carlos’ arms. He had held you a thousand times over your long friendship but the way he held you now, possessive and jealous, it changed everything. There was no going back to how it used to be. 
“I kind of like this new you,” you teased as you danced with him, turning in his arms and rocking your hips in time to the beat. “So commanding, Carlito, why don’t you try it on me?”
His lips cocked up in a smirk that you saw as you peeked over your shoulder and dragged his hands down your body. “Because you’ve never listen to anything I say.”
Turning to face him, you looped your arms around his neck and brushed your lips softly over his before you could change your mind. “Maybe you just never said what I wanted to hear.”
Carlos swallowed as he saw your pupils dilate with lust and the thin material of your dress did little to hide the fact you wore no bra beneath it, your peaked nipples begging him to take them in his mouth. “We need to leave,” he groaned as he squeezed your ass and bit his lip, “before I get us both into a lot of trouble.”
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You barely remembered to thank Liana for dropping you off at home. You barely remembered the drive when every ounce of your brain capacity was spent trying to behave yourself while you sat on Carlos’ lap. You tried to keep still on the corners but you felt his hard length beneath you with each turn and squirm.
It seemed to take forever for Liana to finally pull into your driveway and your foot tapped the tile floor impatiently while she drove off and you slapped the button on the wall to close the gates. You didn’t wait to see them close as Carlos’ lips were on yours and his feet led the way blindly through your home. 
Your bed was a mess. You hadn’t planned on bringing a stranger back to your place, but Carlos was no stranger, in fact, he knew you better than anyone ever could or would. He smiled knowingly as he laid you down on the sheets, kneeling between your legs as they parted for him.
His shirt had been abandoned somewhere on the stairs, your dress along the hallway, his trousers at the foot of your bed. You had seen him in this state of undress before, when you would sneak out as teenagers and go for midnight swims in the bay, but the moonlight had left the memory faded. In the light of your room, his skin glowed and shadows highlighted the dips of his defined muscles that lined his body. It was like seeing him in colour for the very first time.
“Are you okay, bombón?” he asked as his fingers danced down your legs lightly, tickling your skin and leaving goosebumps behind until he reached your heels. His thick fingers shouldn’t have been able to remove the delicate clasps so gracefully but he eased each shoe off before massaging the aching soles of your feet. “You look like you are thinking too hard.”
“I am thinking you are going way too slow,” you teased. His thumb hit the right spot in your arch and a moan parted your lips while he chuckled at your reaction.
“I told you, princesa, I’m going to show you how you deserve to be treated.” Tantilisingly slowly, he massaged his way up your legs, devoting his time to your relaxation until you were putty in his hands. Your legs were trembling in anticipation when his thumbs finally reached the laced edge of your panties and he let out an unsteady breath at the damp patch darkening the material. You lifted your hips for him as he hooked his fingers into the waistband and dragged them down your legs. “I want to taste you, princesa.”
“Please, Carlos,” you begged as he licked his full lips enticingly.
You recognised the look in his eyes, the one that told you to be patient and the groan that had been building morphed into a gasp when he grabbed your hips and pulled you onto his thigh. The pressure was teasing and you rocked your hips wanting more as he blanketed you with his body and sealed his lips around your breast. 
“Fuck,” you moaned as his tongue flicked over your nipple, sending bolts of lightning to your core as you tightened your legs around his thigh and combed your fingers into his hair. “Oh god, do that again.”
He was more than happy to follow your command and you felt like your body would ignite beneath him. He sensed the change in your body as your breathing laboured and a sweat broke out across your skin. “Not yet,” he warned as he kissed his way up your neck and captured your lips in a blistering kiss. “I want to taste you when you come, princesa.”
Your eyes fluttered shut as you shamelessly rode his thigh, the pressure building. “Then you better hurry up.”
A whimper escaped with the disappearance of his leg but when you opened your eyes you were struck by his dark ones, watching you watch him make his way down your body. You sucked in a sharp breath as you felt him blow a cold breeze over your skin and you shivered as he warmed it again with his tongue. 
“I’m starting to think you get off on teasing me,” you whispered with a strained voice. 
“I simply get off on you,” he replied just as quietly.
The questions you had were erased with the leisurely stroke of his tongue, tasting you for the first time. He hummed at the reward he had earned with his teasing and his fingers gripped your thighs tighter as he held you spread open for him to devour. 
The room filled with the sweet sounds that clawed from your throat as your head swum and your legs quivered. The salacious song grew louder when Carlos curled one finger into your cunt, then two. He pumped his digits as his tongue circled your clit and together they threw you over the edge and you came with undulating waves that rocked your body against his lips.
“Carlito…” you panted as he lapped at your dripping folds, indulging in the decadence he had been craving for years.
“I love you,” he admitted as he rose above you.
You reached for his face, your thumb tracing the shape of his swollen lips that were still shiny with your arousal. “I love you too.”
“No more red flags,” he said as he lined himself with your entrance. “You’re mine, princesa.”
“I’m yours,” you echoed as you pulled his face to yours and sealed the promise with a kiss.
“You always have been.”
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