chicadelasgalaxias-blog

[theonottsbxtch]

EL COQUETO | FC43

an: welcome back as we write about my n.1 pookie, i've got some more works planned for him BUT i've just gotten to france so imma be very busy rip, based off of this request

summary: when franco catches feelings for a journalist who is persuaded he doesn't really want her.

wc: 7.6k

The paddock was alive with energy, buzzing with the hum of engines and the chatter of the press as they swarmed around the new driver. She watched him move through the crowd with ease, a slight swagger in his step and a dazzling smile that had already made him the focus of every camera. He was the story of the weekend: Franco Colapinto, the unexpected mid-season replacement, here to shake up the grid with his flashy driving style—and, evidently, his unapologetic charm.

He caught sight of her, raised an eyebrow in recognition, and made a beeline toward her with the confidence of someone who knew he’d be welcome, even if he hadn’t been invited.

“Hola,” he greeted, his voice carrying a thick, rolling Spanish accent that seemed to coat every word in warmth. “You must be my next question of the day. They warned me about the best journalist here—of course, I was told to behave.”

She gave him a practised smile, cool but polite. “Franco, welcome to the team. How are you feeling about joining mid-season?”

His eyes sparkled, unfazed by the businesslike tone. “How am I feeling?” He leaned in just slightly, as though sharing a secret. “Well, right now, very lucky. They said I’d get tough questions, but they didn’t say the interviewer would be… distracting.”

She fought the urge to look away, just barely managing to keep her composure. “So you feel ready for the pressure, then?” she asked, refocusing, though the tiniest hint of a blush warmed her cheeks.

“For the track? Yes, I am prepared to race anyone.” He paused, letting his gaze linger on her a beat too long. “For the interviews? That remains to be seen. Perhaps you can teach me how to handle that part, sí?”

She could sense her colleagues nearby, some watching with open amusement as they caught his flirtatious energy. Franco was as smooth as they came, that much was certain. But she wouldn’t be the one to crack first.

“I’m sure you’ll learn quickly,” she said, tilting her head, her voice steady, though her heart raced. “Now, back to the race. What are your goals for this weekend?”

His grin broadened, but he played along. “Goals for the weekend,” he echoed thoughtfully, shifting back into the question. “Win a few hearts, break a few records—no particular order.” He winked, and she felt a laugh bubble up before she stifled it, opting instead for a brisk nod.

“Right. Well, I hope you’re ready for the competition,” she managed.

He shrugged, eyes glinting with mischief. “With you here, qué competencia?”

She gave him a pointed look, resisting the smile tugging at her lips. “You know, charm doesn’t score you points on the track.”

“Ah, no?” He tilted his head, feigning surprise. “Then I suppose I’ll have to win the hard way.”

Just then, a flash of cameras went off around them, the media eating up every angle of Franco’s arrival. He seemed entirely unfazed, even performing slightly for the flashes. The crowd around them surged with questions about his plans, about what his first practice would look like, about his last season in Formula 2. But Franco’s attention was still locked on her, and he hadn’t missed a beat.

“So,” he said, with that soft smile of his, “do you think I’ll be able to charm Formula One, or will they be immune to my Argentian ways?”

She gave him a dry smile. “You might have your work cut out for you. It’s not a stroll through Argentina, after all.”

He laughed at that, clearly enjoying her wit. “You’re tough,” he said, a touch of admiration sneaking into his voice. “I can see why you’re the best.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Flattery won’t distract me from the questions, Franco.”

“No? Not even if I try very, very hard?” he asked, drawing out the words with a grin. It was ridiculous, really—the way he leaned into every word, the way he seemed to shine in the spotlight. But there was something endearing about it too, something that felt… unexpectedly genuine.

“Not even then,” she replied, her tone light but steady. “Let’s talk strategy. What’s your focus for your first race?”

He sighed, shifting slightly but keeping that glint in his eye. “Fine, I’ll behave,” he said with a sigh, straightening up to answer. “My focus is simple: get the car under me, push it to its limits, and aim for a strong finish. Maybe even a few surprise overtakes. I’ve been itching to get back on the track.”

It was the most serious answer he’d given yet, and she noted the shift in his voice—a hint of intensity breaking through the smooth, easy charm.

“And your teammate?” she pressed, sensing she’d found the thread to pull him out of his flirtatious veneer. “Are you prepared for the rivalry?”

Franco’s expression turned thoughtful for a moment, a flicker of something sharper in his eyes. “My teammate…” He paused, glancing away briefly before meeting her gaze again. “He’s William’s best. I’ll learn from him, give him the respect he deserves. But I didn’t come here to play second.”

She watched as someone next to her scribbled down his answer, though her mind wandered slightly, wondering at the complexity beneath his charm.

“Good to hear,” she said, offering a small nod. “We’ll all be watching to see if you live up to that confidence.”

“I live up to my promises,” he replied smoothly. Then he leaned in one last time, lowering his voice just for her. “One of them being to get at least one smile from you by the end of the weekend. I’ll start with that goal.”

Before she could reply, he gave a casual wave to the crowd, moving on to the next journalist as though he hadn’t just made her heart skip a beat with his easy, disarming confidence. She watched him go, flustered despite herself.

One thing was certain: Franco Colapinto was going to be a story.

When the time came, the race had barely begun, but her eyes were already glued to the screen, following the sleek white-and-blue car with Franco’s number emblazoned on the front. Despite her best efforts to stay neutral, to approach this like any other weekend, there was something magnetic about watching him. Franco Colapinto, the audacious rookie, who’d barely spent a week with the team and had taken to the grid without a single day of training in an F1 car.

From the start, it was clear he was playing it differently. He didn’t charge forward recklessly like other rookies might have, eager to prove themselves. Instead, Franco took a few cautious laps, feeling out the car, testing its responses. She noticed how his style evolved lap by lap, each one more aggressive, his moves sharper. He was adapting, learning the car right there in the thick of the race.

As the race progressed, he began to gain ground. Corner after corner, he squeezed every ounce of performance from his machine, edging closer to the pack with each lap. By mid-race, he was overtaking the backmarkers, slipping past seasoned drivers who had years on him, and the commentators were buzzing.

She caught herself smiling, feeling a strange, almost foolish pride as she watched. The memory of his easy, arrogant grin flashed in her mind, his voice low and teasing: “Do you think I’ll charm Formula One?” She’d laughed it off, but he had something special, didn’t he? That hunger for the track, the sheer nerve to go head-to-head with anyone in his way.

Then, as if her thoughts had summoned trouble, the camera cut to his car—a close-up on his visor as he fought for P12. Her heart caught as he made a daring move, threading his car through a razor-thin gap into the next turn. It was reckless, and yet somehow—somehow—he made it stick.

“P12!” The radio crackled through his team radio, their voice as surprised as she felt. For a rookie with zero F1 experience, it was practically a victory.

She exhaled, releasing a breath she hadn’t realised she’d been holding. The chequered flag fell, and Franco’s car slowed down, his voice breaking through the team radio with a triumphant laugh, half-sighing, half-cheering in disbelief at his own result.

When she saw him back in the paddock, she managed to slip past the swarm of journalists waiting to pounce, positioning herself where he’d inevitably cross her path. She didn’t want to admit how much she wanted to hear his version of the race firsthand, to see if the adrenaline still sparkled in his eyes the way it had behind the visor.

When he finally caught sight of her, his face lit up. “Ah, my toughest questioner returns,” he said, the grin wide as he raked a hand through his hair, still tousled from the helmet. “So? Impressed?”

She raised an eyebrow, trying to keep her expression composed. “Not bad for a first race,” she said, voice calm but betraying the slightest hint of a smile. “Though I have to say, you took some pretty risky moves out there.”

Franco laughed, that low, familiar chuckle that could disarm anyone. “You sound like my engineer. But I had to make it interesting, didn’t I?” His gaze softened slightly, the playfulness ebbing for a moment. “I did better than you expected, maybe?”

“Maybe,” she admitted, leaning in just a bit. “I wouldn’t let it go to your head, though.”

He feigned a wince. “Ah, so I’ll have to work harder to impress you, then.”

With that, she couldn’t hold back the smile any longer. “Perhaps,” she said, voice softer. “But you’ve made a start.”

She followed the rest of the press corps into the media pen, her notebook in hand, watching as Franco slipped into his role with practised ease. The other drivers, still catching their breath, answered questions in measured tones, clearly exhausted. But Franco was… well, Franco. He leaned back against the barrier, relaxed, a half-smile playing on his lips as he answered questions, some about his lack of training, others about his shockingly high finish.

She hung back at first, observing him as he effortlessly charmed each journalist in turn, flashing that disarming grin and making even the toughest questions seem like casual conversation. But when his eyes caught hers across the small crowd, he subtly waved her forward, his grin widening.

“Ah, finally,” he said, his tone playful as she approached. “I was starting to think you were hiding from me.” The other journalists shot her curious glances, some smirking at Franco’s obvious interest.

She managed to keep her expression neutral, clearing her throat and lifting her voice to a professional tone. “Franco, congratulations on P12. Quite a debut.”

“Gracias, cariño,” he replied, eyes sparkling. “For a moment, I thought you didn’t think I could do it.”

“Well, you didn’t exactly take the most traditional route,” she shot back, raising an eyebrow. “You had us all on the edge of our seats with those overtakes.”

He leaned in a little, lowering his voice to just above a murmur, his gaze fixed on hers. “I thought about what you said. ‘Charm doesn’t score points.’ So I had to give you something else to smile about.”

She could feel her cheeks warm under his steady gaze, and she fought to keep her expression cool. “Don’t flatter yourself, Franco. I’m just here to report the facts.”

“Hmm,” he said, tapping his chin thoughtfully, though a playful smirk tugged at his lips. “Well, the fact is, I went from P20 to P12 on my first day. But somehow, I think I still haven’t impressed the person who matters most.”

“The person who—?” She trailed off, exasperated. “Franco, you were the story today.”

“Was I?” he asked, the innocent tone entirely ruined by the mischief in his eyes. “Because if I’m the story, you’re the reason it’s a good one.”

Before she could protest, he glanced over her shoulder at the next journalist, nodding politely. Then, in a flash, he was back to her, clearly undeterred. “When can we continue our interview?”

She forced herself to keep her composure. “I think you’ve given me more than enough material for one day.”

“A pity.” He shook his head, though his grin was unmistakable. “Then maybe next time, you’ll be a little more impressed.”

She watched him walk away, shoulders loose and steps casual as he moved from one group of reporters to the next, answering their questions with the same easy confidence he’d shown with her. She could still feel the heat of his gaze, the lingering effect of his words making her pulse quicken.

“Wow.” The journalist next to her, a seasoned reporter with a wry smile, gave her a knowing look. “You okay there? He has that effect, doesn’t he?”

She blinked, quickly snapping out of her daze, feeling a flush of embarrassment creep up her neck. “I—yeah, I don’t know what’s going on,” she muttered, shaking her head, trying to compose herself. But she could still hear his words ringing in her ears, his playful teasing, the warmth in his gaze. “The person who matters most.”

“Oh, I think I do.” The other journalist smirked, nodding in Franco’s direction as he laughed and clapped a fellow driver on the shoulder. “It seems Franco over here has a slight crush.”

She scoffed, though it came out more flustered than she’d intended. “Franco has a crush on every woman he talks to. It’s his… thing since he got here.”

The journalist raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Maybe so, but I’ve watched him all day and that was different.”

Her colleague’s words only made her cheeks grow warmer. Was it that obvious? She was used to managing tough interviews, unflappable under pressure, and here she was, thrown off by a driver who hadn’t even been in Formula 1 for a full week. But somehow, Franco’s charm wasn’t just some casual game to him; it felt more… intense. And he’d directed every bit of that intensity straight at her.

The journalist chuckled. “Don’t overthink it. Enjoy the attention—it’s not every day a rookie looks at you like you’re the finish line.”

She glanced away, her lips twitching into a reluctant smile. She didn’t want to admit it, not to her colleague, and definitely not to herself, but there was something in the way he’d looked at her, like she was more than just another journalist, more than just one of the many people crowding his spotlight.

“Well, let’s hope he stays focused on the real finish line,” she replied, aiming for a casual tone that didn’t quite land. But she couldn’t deny it—Franco Colapinto was becoming more than just the story of the weekend. He was starting to feel like her story, too.

Later that evening, she sat in her hotel room, trying to unwind from the chaos of race day. The lights of the city glimmered outside her window, but her mind was still caught on Franco—his effortless charm, that maddening smirk, the way he’d singled her out, even with half the media pen watching. It was absurd, really. She’d covered far bigger stories, spoken with veteran champions, and yet one rookie had managed to leave her feeling more flustered than she’d care to admit.

With a sigh, she scrolled through her phone, halfheartedly catching up on messages, until a notification popped up that made her heart skip.

Francolpainto has sent you a message.

She hesitated, a mix of curiosity and nerves swirling in her stomach as she opened it. The message was simple, casual—like he hadn’t already spent the whole day keeping her off balance.

Franco: Hola! Are you at the hotel?

Before she could talk herself out of it, she typed a quick reply.

Her: Yes, I am.

The response came almost immediately.

Franco: Perfect! I’m downstairs in the lounge. Come have dinner with me?

She stared at the screen, her mind racing. It was tempting—she’d be lying to herself if she said it wasn’t. But she knew his type all too well, didn’t she? The charming new driver who flirted with every journalist, every fan, anyone who would listen. She could already imagine him saying the exact same things to another reporter tomorrow.

No, she couldn’t let herself get pulled in. Not by someone who was probably just looking for a bit of attention.

Her: Thanks, but I think I’ll pass. Long day.

She set the phone down, hoping that would be the end of it, but a new message came through almost instantly.

Franco: Too bad. I was hoping I’d finally get a smile out of you without a hundred cameras around.

She rolled her eyes, though she couldn’t deny the small flutter his words sent through her. He was persistent, that was for sure.

Her: You’re very determined, Franco. But I have to ask—do you make this invitation to all the journalists?

A pause, just a few seconds longer than his usual quick responses. Then, his reply appeared, simple and direct.

Franco: No, just the one who keeps me on my toes.

Her: Pity, this one isn’t intrested.

She set her phone down after typing that, ignoring the little thrill that shot through her when he messaged her again almost immediately. Franco’s charm was undeniably effective, but she wasn’t about to let herself become just another name on his roster of admirers. He’d have to do a lot more than offer a casual dinner invite if he wanted her attention.

Franco: Really? You’re going to turn me down just like that?

She smirked at the screen. Of course he wasn’t used to hearing “no.”

Her: Really. I’ve seen you in action today, Franco. I’m sure you’ll find someone else to keep you company.

A longer pause this time, as if her words had taken him off-guard. When he replied, his tone was more thoughtful.

Franco: That’s not what I meant. Today was… different. I don’t want to go to dinner with just anyone. I want to go with you.

Her heart skipped a beat, but she forced herself to stay firm. She typed a quick reply, keeping it casual.

Her: Nice try. But I’ve seen the way you charm everyone you talk to. You’re going to have to try a lot harder if you want me to believe that.

A few minutes passed, and she wondered if maybe he’d let it go. But just as she was about to put her phone down, another message appeared.

Franco: Okay. Fair enough. How about this: tomorrow, after practice, let me show you what a real date looks like. No crowds, no cameras. Just you and me.

She hesitated, feeling the pull of curiosity mingled with doubt. She knew he could be as persistent as he was charming, and there was something intriguing about his willingness to push past her refusal.

Her: Why should I believe this isn’t just a game to you?

His response came quickly this time, almost earnest.

Franco: Because no one else makes me want to try this hard. I’m not playing around here, cariño. Tell me what I need to do, and I’ll do it.

She smiled, a little thrill rushing through her. For the first time, he seemed genuinely off-balance, unsure, and she couldn’t help but enjoy it.

Her: We’ll see if you mean that. Good luck tomorrow, Franco.

Franco: Gracias. And just so you know… I’m not giving up that easily.

The following week, she found herself in the bustling paddock of the Baku, her eyes catching sight of Franco’s car parked in the paddock. She had to admit, he’d stayed true to his word since their last exchange, staying out of her messages—though his lingering glances and smiles across the paddock hadn’t exactly disappeared. If anything, he seemed more determined, more focused. It was all part of his act, she reminded herself. And yet, there was something undeniably thrilling about it.

She was busy gathering notes when she felt a familiar presence beside her. Franco had sidled up, hands tucked into the pockets of his team jacket, his easygoing grin making her pulse quicken in spite of herself.

“Back to cheer me on, sí?” he asked, eyes bright with that familiar mischief.

She held back a smile, refusing to give him the satisfaction. “I’m here to cover the race, Franco. Your cheering section is back there.” She nodded to the growing crowd of fans waving his name on signs with Argentinan flags just a few metres away.

He laughed, the sound warm and rich. “They’re great, sure, but I was looking for one particular fan. The one who told me I’d have to work harder if I wanted to impress her.”

She raised an eyebrow, stepping out of earshot of the nearest camera. “Oh, you remember that, do you?”

“Every word,” he said, his gaze steady. “I thought about it all week.”

A small thrill ran through her, though she kept her voice steady and her tone cool. “Well, if you’re serious, you’ll have to do better than last week’s P12. Otherwise, it just looks like more talk.”

His expression shifted, his easy grin giving way to a flash of determination. “If it’s a higher position you want,” he said, leaning in just slightly, “then I’ll get it. Just keep watching.”

She crossed her arms, fighting the smile tugging at her lips. “I’ll be watching, Colapinto. Don’t disappoint me.”

He held her gaze for a moment, his eyes flickering with something that felt genuine, earnest. “I don’t plan to,” he murmured, stepping back with a wink before heading toward his car.

As he disappeared into the garage, her heart raced. Franco Colapinto, the rookie charmer, was setting out to prove himself to her. And, as much as she hated to admit it, she was looking forward to seeing if he could keep his promise.

She sat in the media centre, eyes locked on the screen as the race unfolded. Franco’s car was easy to spot, weaving its way through the pack with a precision she hadn’t expected. He was starting further up this time, P18, but it was still a long shot to even think he’d break into the top ten. Yet as the laps ticked by, he held his ground, pushing, clawing his way forward with a tenacity that had everyone watching in awe.

“Impressive for a rookie,” she overheard another journalist mutter, and she felt a strange pang of pride.

Halfway through the race, Franco made a daring overtake, squeezing past two midfield drivers into P10. She sat forward, barely breathing. He wasn’t just hanging on—he was gaining, going after every single opportunity on the track with a fierceness she hadn’t seen before.

He’d promised her he’d finish higher than last week, and she’d thought it was just talk, maybe a little playful charm. But here he was, proving her wrong lap by lap.

By the time he made it to P9, she was leaning forward in her seat, clutching her notebook tightly. And then, with a bold move on the final few laps, he passed another driver, slipping into P8. Her heart raced as she watched him hold his ground, fending off the competition, determined to keep the position he’d fought so hard for. The chequered flag dropped, and Franco crossed the line in P8.

She exhaled, a rush of surprise and admiration flooding through her. She’d known he was talented, of course—he wouldn’t have made it this far otherwise. But this? Climbing ten positions in a single race, all for a chance to prove himself to her? It was more than she’d expected.

As the race ended, she moved through the paddock, her mind whirling. Franco Colapinto, the charming rookie who flirted with everyone, had just delivered one of the most impressive drives of the day. For her. And she wasn’t sure if she was more impressed with his skill or his determination to keep his word.

She barely had a chance to catch her breath before she was back in the paddock, microphone in hand, ready to take on the post-race interviews. As she waited for Franco, she replayed his climb through the ranks in her mind—his nerve, his timing, the way he’d handled himself on the track. It wasn’t just impressive; it was astonishing. And as much as she tried to shake it off, she couldn’t ignore the small thrill that ran through her at the thought that he’d done it, in part, for her.

Finally, Franco appeared, still in his race suit his face glistening with the sheen of hard work. There was a slight glimmer of triumph in his eyes as he spotted her, a grin spreading across his face. He walked over, ignoring the other cameras and reporters, his gaze focused squarely on her.

She raised her microphone, keeping her expression as neutral as she could. “Franco Colapinto, P8—your second race in Formula 1, and already a massive improvement from last week. Can you walk us through it?”

He took a quick breath, then leaned in, a spark of mischief in his eyes. “Well, you know, someone told me I had to get higher than P12 if I wanted to impress them,” he said, his tone light but his gaze steady on hers. “So I did it for them. Great motivation.”

Heat crept up her neck, and she forced herself to stay focused. She could feel the eyes of the other journalists and team members on them, her colleagues probably smirking at his obvious attempt to fluster her, but she managed to hold her ground.

“Impressive,” she said, keeping her voice level. “And this ‘motivation’—I assume it’s the same one who’s kept you on your toes all week?”

Franco’s grin grew wider, unabashed. “Absolutely. Turns out, when someone challenges me, I take it seriously.” He shifted his stance, his gaze softening just a fraction. “And if they ask, I’ll do it again.”

A few people around them chuckled, and she fought the urge to roll her eyes. This wasn’t the usual post-race banter, and he didn’t seem interested in giving anyone the typical driver answers. He was speaking to her as if they were alone, and for a brief moment, she almost forgot the cameras.

“Well, whatever you’re doing,” she replied, finally letting a small smile slip, “it seems to be working. P8 is no small feat.”

He tilted his head, as if studying her. “Then maybe next week, you’ll set the bar even higher for me?” His voice was low, just enough for her to hear.

She felt her resolve waver slightly, but managed to maintain her professionalism. “We’ll see, Colapinto. For now, let’s just focus on how you plan to keep this up.”

He chuckled, shifting his grip on his helmet. “Oh, I think I have all the motivation I need right here.” With one last grin and a wink, he turned to greet the other journalists, leaving her to process what was easily the most disarming post-race interview she’d ever conducted.

Later that night, she was back in her hotel room, unwinding with a cup of tea, trying to shake off the lingering thrill of Franco’s performance—and his audacity in the post-race interview. She still couldn’t believe how he’d shamelessly directed half of his answers at her, leaving her just as off-balance as he had on the track. But as much as she tried to dismiss it, her thoughts kept circling back to his determination, his promise that he’d push harder just because she’d challenged him.

Her phone buzzed with a message, and she glanced down to see it was from the William’s Instagram Account.

Team Rep: Hey, what’s your room number?

She frowned for a moment, surprised by the casualness of the message. But teams occasionally followed up with journalists for clarifications or comments, especially after high-profile performances like Franco’s. Assuming they needed to drop off some post-race press notes or team statements, she quickly typed back her room number.

Her: Room 914.

Team Rep: Perfect. Thanks.

Not even a minute later, she heard a quiet knock on her door. She glanced at the time, wondering if the team rep had come by himself. But when she opened the door, the hallway was empty. Instead, resting on the floor in front of her was a beautiful bouquet of wildflowers—vibrant, unruly, and charmingly imperfect, wrapped with a small card slipped between the stems.

Her pulse quickened. She didn’t have to check the note to know exactly who had left them.

Still, curiosity got the best of her, and she crouched down, carefully lifting the bouquet to pull the card free.

“To my motivation: thank you for the push. Let’s raise the stakes again soon. — F.

A soft, reluctant smile tugged at her lips. She felt the warmth creeping up her cheeks, aware that Franco Colapinto had managed to surprise her again. It was a move so bold, so unexpected—and, somehow, more genuine than any casual dinner invitation could have been.

She sighed, shaking her head but unable to fight the smile any longer. As she placed the flowers on the table, their vibrant petals catching the soft light, she couldn’t help but wonder what Franco would pull next to prove himself. Because one thing was certain: he wasn’t giving up. And maybe, just maybe, she didn’t want him to.

She couldn’t resist. Picking up her phone, she sent a quick message, keeping it light, casual.

Her: Cute.

It didn’t take long for his response to pop up.

Franco: Oh? You find me cute?

She rolled her eyes, though her heart skipped a beat as she typed back.

Her: No, the flowers were a cute move.

A beat passed, and then came his reply, playful but edged with a hint of something more.

Franco: Well, then… would you let the guy behind the cute move take you out for dinner?

She hesitated, fingers hovering over her phone. She knew what this looked like—a line blurred between work and something personal, maybe too personal. And for him, a rookie who’d just broken into the sport, one misstep could easily become a distraction he couldn’t afford. It wasn’t just her reputation, but his too, and the stakes felt higher than either of them probably realised.

Her: I don’t know, Franco. There’s too much on the line.

A pause, longer than his usual quick responses, and for a moment she thought maybe he’d let it go. Then his reply came through, brief and simple.

Franco: Okay.

She stared at the word, an unexpected pang of disappointment catching her off guard. Franco, usually so persistent, so bold, had accepted her hesitation without a fight. But as much as she wanted to push away her own reservations, she knew she was right. Still, the thought of him backing off now left her feeling… unbalanced.

Setting the phone down, she let out a sigh, glancing over at the flowers resting on her table. A small part of her wondered if maybe, just maybe, she’d made the wrong choice.

Four weeks later, they were back at the track, Austin, the usual energy humming through the paddock as teams and drivers prepared for the weekend ahead. She found herself scanning the garages, a little spark of nerves in her chest that had nothing to do with work. Franco had kept his distance over the past few weeks—well, as much distance as someone like him could manage. He was still his playful, charismatic self with the press, charming everyone in sight, but there was something different. He hadn’t followed up on his dinner invitation, hadn’t tried to push beyond her boundaries. She told herself it was for the best. Still, a small part of her couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d been too cautious.

Just then, she spotted him near the team’s garage, leaning against the wall in his race suit around his hips, deep in conversation with one of his engineers. When he looked up and saw her, his face lit up, a grin breaking across his face as if no time had passed. She felt a little of that old thrill in her chest as he walked over.

“Hola, stranger,” he greeted, hands tucked into his pockets of his team jacket, his voice as warm and casual as ever. “Miss me?”

She rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t help the smile tugging at her lips. “You were just here four weeks ago, Colapinto. Don’t flatter yourself.”

He chuckled, giving her that familiar, playful look. “Four weeks is a long time, don’t you think?”

She shook her head, feeling a bit of the tension from the past month melt away. Whatever her own doubts, Franco hadn’t let her brush-off change him—he was still here, as charming and persistent as ever. And somehow, that lifted a weight off her shoulders.

“Have you been behaving?” she asked, arching an eyebrow. “Or should I be prepared for more unexpected flower deliveries?”

Franco’s grin grew wider, his eyes flashing with that spark she was growing dangerously used to. “Depends. You miss them?”

She laughed softly, looking down to avoid letting him see her smile. “I’d hardly admit that if I did.”

He leaned in just slightly, his voice lowering. “Good thing I’m a patient man, then. Because I’m not done yet.” There was a softness to his tone, a hint of something genuine beneath his usual confidence, and it made her heart skip a beat.

Despite herself, she found comfort in his persistence, in his way of toeing the line between serious and playful without putting any pressure on her. For all his charm, he hadn’t crossed any lines. He was waiting, leaving the door open if she ever wanted to step through.

As he turned to head back toward his car, he glanced over his shoulder, giving her a wink. “You know where to find me if you change your mind, cariño. I’ll be around.”

And with that, he disappeared into the garage, leaving her standing there with a soft smile, feeling just a little lighter, a little braver.

She found herself glued to the screen as the race unfolded, Franco’s car darting through the pack with all the finesse and raw determination she’d come to recognise in him. Starting from P17, he had a long climb ahead of him, and as the laps ticked down, he kept gaining ground, his timing sharp, his decisions bold. He was relentless, working his way through the grid with an intensity that kept her at the edge of her seat.

By the halfway mark, he was already up to P12, and she could feel the anticipation building among the journalists and crew around her. Franco wasn’t just driving; he was fighting for every single position, taking advantage of each moment with an almost calculated risk. And he was doing it with the confidence that had both frustrated and charmed her from the start.

Then, in the final laps, with a daring overtake on the inside line, he claimed P10. A top ten finish. It was almost too perfect—his words from the last race echoing in her mind as he crossed the line: “If they ask, I’ll do it again.”

The paddock was buzzing with excitement as she made her way toward the media pen, preparing herself for the post-race interview. She tried to tamp down the flutter of nerves, reminding herself that he’d been charming his way through interviews with her for weeks now. But there was something different this time, a spark of pride mingled with her excitement, and she couldn’t wait to see him walk in.

When he finally appeared, the smile on his face was brighter than she’d ever seen. Still in his race suit, a towel on his head, he strode over to her with that familiar glint of mischief in his eyes. She raised her microphone, struggling to keep her voice steady.

“Franco Colapinto,” she began, her own smile betraying just a hint of the thrill she felt. “P10 from P17—congratulations. Tell us, how did you manage such an impressive climb?”

He grinned, leaning casually into the microphone. “Well, you know me. I like a good challenge,” he said, his gaze holding hers for a second longer than necessary. “And I couldn’t let down the one person who told me I had to keep improving.”

The implication wasn’t lost on anyone listening, and she felt a blush rise to her cheeks. She rolled her eyes slightly, playing it off as best she could. “Seems like you’re making a habit of climbing positions to impress,” she replied, keeping her tone light.

Franco’s smile softened, turning almost genuine. “For some things,” he said, his voice low enough that only she could hear, “it’s worth the effort.”

She swallowed, momentarily at a loss for words, but managed to pull herself together, keeping the interview rolling. “Well, you’ve certainly earned that P10. What’s the plan for next time? Any more surprise performances in store?”

“Oh, definitely,” he replied, flashing her a grin. “But let’s say I’ll aim higher than P10 next time. If someone out there is willing to set a new challenge for me, I’ll be ready.” His words hung in the air, a subtle invitation that made her heart skip a beat.

She couldn’t hold back her smile as she wrapped up the interview, his gaze lingering on her with that same unspoken promise. And as she watched him walk away, her heart raced with the thrill of what might come next, realising that maybe—just maybe—she was ready to see where this challenge would lead.

As Franco walked away, she felt the lingering warmth of his gaze, that same thrill coursing through her that she’d tried so hard to brush off. But now, it seemed, she wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to. The interview had felt like more than just a casual exchange; his words, his look—there was something real beneath the flirtation, something she found herself wanting to chase.

The rest of the evening passed in a blur of post-race coverage and media duties, but her thoughts kept drifting back to him, to the way his eyes had held hers, steady and genuine, as he’d promised to aim even higher. It was only when she caught herself looking around the paddock, almost instinctively, that she realised she was seeking him out. By then, her professional caution had faded, replaced by something far less reasonable but far more enticing.

She knew she was violating so many unspoken rules as she made her way around the paddock, ducking out of the more crowded paths and slipping past the occasional lingering crew member. A pang of guilt buzzed at the back of her mind, but it was no match for the magnetic pull drawing her toward his driver’s room.

She stopped outside the door, exhaling a shaky breath as her pulse raced with a mix of nerves and anticipation. The hallway was quiet, the sounds of the bustling paddock fading away. Before she could second-guess herself, she raised her hand and knocked softly.

The door opened, and there he was, in a grey tracksuit and plain black top, his expression shifting from surprise to that warm, familiar smile that had always managed to disarm her.

“Well,” he said, leaning against the doorframe, his voice dropping to a low murmur, “I didn’t expect my motivation to show up in person.”

She rolled her eyes, but there was no hiding her smile. “I figured I’d come to make sure you’re planning to keep your word. That climb to P10 wasn’t exactly a small feat.”

His smile softened, and he stepped aside, wordlessly inviting her in. As the door clicked shut behind them, the noise and pressures of the paddock slipped away, leaving just the two of them. The look he gave her—warm, unguarded, and almost vulnerable—made her heart skip a beat.

She’d broken so many of her own rules just to get here, but in this moment, she couldn’t bring herself to regret a single one.

Taking a moment to look around, she noticed his bags were packed and ready for the triple header and that there was nowhere to sit.

She sat on the edge of his bed, trying to look at ease despite the heat rising in her cheeks. Franco stood in front of her, close enough that her knees brushed his legs. The room felt charged with his presence, the quiet intensity in his gaze making it impossible to look away.

“Didn’t think I’d see you here,” he murmured, leaning down a bit. The way his dark eyes lingered on her, sweeping over her face and holding her gaze, sent a rush of warmth through her.

She felt a smile tugging at her lips, trying to keep her voice steady. “Figured I’d make sure you’re holding up after all that hard work.”

He chuckled, his voice low, with just a hint of playfulness. “Oh, I’m holding up just fine.” He reached out, fingers brushing a loose strand of hair from her cheek, letting his thumb linger just a moment too long against her skin. “In fact, I think I’m doing better than fine.”

Her cheeks flushed even deeper, but she held his gaze, determined not to let him throw her off-balance—at least not completely. “You know,” she said, trying to match his tone, “you don’t have to turn everything into a line, Colapinto.”

Franco tilted his head, a smile playing on his lips. “Only with you, cariño.”

She let out a soft laugh, her heartbeat picking up as he moved closer, until he was standing right between her legs. She felt his fingers trace gently along her jawline, his thumb tilting her chin up so she was looking directly into his eyes.

“Not used to being flirted with, cariño?” he asked softly, his voice smooth and teasing.

She swallowed, feeling her blush deepen as her usual composure slipped. “No… not like this.”

“Shame,” he murmured, his thumb grazing her cheek as his eyes searched hers, warm and intent. His voice softened, and the playfulness gave way to something more genuine. “Because I’m just getting started.”

She felt her breath hitch, her pulse racing as his words sank in, leaving her both disarmed and impossibly drawn in. And in that moment, she realised that every wall she’d put up around him was slipping away, piece by piece.

For a moment, she couldn’t take her eyes off him, the air between them thick with anticipation. Then, she noticed the small silver chain dangling from his neck, glinting faintly against the fabric of his black top, and without thinking, she reached up, wrapping her fingers around it gently.

Franco’s gaze flickered in surprise, his breath catching as she tugged on the chain, pulling him just close enough that their faces were inches apart. She could feel the warmth radiating from him, and the intensity of his gaze sent a thrill through her that made her heart pound. His hands settled on either side of her hips as he leaned in, their breaths mingling in the charged silence.

Before she could talk herself out of it, she closed the space between them, pressing her lips to his. The kiss was tentative at first, soft and exploratory, but the warmth in his response was immediate. His hand slid up her back, pulling her closer, and she felt his fingers tangling in her hair as he deepened the kiss, his touch gentle yet confident.

She didn’t realise how tightly she was gripping his chain until she felt his hand cover hers, his thumb tracing lightly over her knuckles as if to say, I’m here.

When they finally parted, both of them slightly breathless, Franco looked at her, hand caressing her cheek, his smile soft and real, devoid of his usual playfulness. He looked at her with a quiet intensity that made her stomach flip.

“You know," he started, his voice dipping into that smooth, charming tone, “I thought I never had a chance with you. You made me work for every single look, every smile…” He shook his head, his hand still resting against her cheek, his thumb brushing just beneath her jaw. “I was convinced you’d never actually let me get this close.”

She felt a warm, amused smile tugging at her lips as she listened to him, his words genuine but tinged with that familiar, playful charm. Watching him, her heart surged with an undeniable impulse, one she didn’t want to ignore any longer. In one fluid motion, she slid her hand around the back of his neck and pulled him down, pressing her lips to his again with a fierce, unrestrained intensity that sent sparks through her.

Franco’s surprise melted instantly, his hands slipping from her cheek to either side of her hips, matching her passion. The kiss deepened, turning slower, almost reverent, as if neither of them wanted the moment to end. She could feel his pulse racing under her hands, his warmth overwhelming in the most exhilarating way.

Without breaking the kiss, she leaned back, drawing him down with her onto the bed. She felt his weight settle gently over her, his hands bracing on either side of her as he kissed her with a hunger that felt both new and inevitable. When he finally pulled back just slightly, his lips hovering over hers, his voice was breathless, a bit dazed.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” he murmured, his fingers tracing down her arm as he held her gaze, a vulnerable softness there she hadn’t seen before.

“Good,” she whispered back, her own voice unsteady, feeling as though her walls were completely gone now. “Because I don’t plan on making it easy for you.”

A soft chuckle escaped his lips as he leaned down, his mouth finding hers again with an eagerness that left them both completely lost in each other, as if the rest of the world had faded away.

Maybe he was worth the wait.

the end.

[azrielbrainrot]

Baby, You Know That I Miss You

Pairing: Band Member!Azriel x F!Reader

Kinktober 2024: Phone Sex, Guided Masturbation

Description: You miss your boyfriend terribly when you go visit your parents during break. Luckily, he's more than willing to help.

Warnings: Smut, phone sex, guided masturbation, dirty talk

Word Count: ~2k

Rating: 18+ MDNI

Notes: This story is part of my Band AU as well as Kinktober, but you don't have to read their other stories to enjoy this one since it's basically all smut! Also I'm not too sure if this is all that good but we move. Hope you enjoy!

Band AU Masterlist

Kinktober 2024 Masterlist

“I didn't know I was going to be so busy all day,” you say with a sigh, happy that you finally get to relax in the comfort of your own bed, “but at least I get to listen to your voice.”

You were a bit sad that you missed a performance, it was the first one you didn't attend since you became official, but because of it your schedules ended up aligning perfectly and you got to talk to him for a while before going to sleep, when you texted him this morning you thought you wouldn't be able to.

Coming home for break, after what happened the last time you were here had been a bit nerve wracking. You didn't know if you would have to run into Eleanor or Parker, and you didn't know how you would react if you did. Luckily, you hadn't seen them, and you found that when your mother mentioned them you didn't really feel anything besides some mild resentment at the way you were treated, all the anger and sadness that just their names evoked a couple months ago had mostly subsided.

If you were being completely honest, forgetting about your childhood best friend had been a lot easier than you thought possible. You were sure the fact that she hurt you so badly that there wouldn't be any possible way to salvage your relationship helped, since it made forgetting her truly the only option, but most of all you had to thank Azriel and your friends, old and new, for it.

The hardest part of being home for these last two weeks ended up being away from Azriel. Yours is still a relatively new relationship, although sometimes it felt like you had known him your entire life, and so it was hard to not be able to see him for so long when you were spending almost all of your free time together. You missed sleeping in his arms, missed watching him and the boys practice, missed the dates at the small café by his apartment you'd found together, the way he held your hand when you went on walks and, Gods, you missed his touch.

“Want me to tell you a story?”

“Anything is fine as long as it's coming from you,” you admit, his deep whispered voice enough to send a gentle warmth traveling through your veins. Azriel hums, something obviously on his mind. “What?”

“You always liked the sound of my voice,” he muses, letting the words flow from his lips slowly but confidently, knowing it would get a reaction out of you and prove his point.

“Well, yes but that's normal.” You try to keep an indifferent tone, but you know he can easily hear through it. “You're a singer for a reason.”

“We both know it's not just that,” he murmurs, and you can almost hear the smirk growing on his lips, can picture the confident yet alluringly attractive look that always falls over his face when he knows he's affecting you, one that unfortunately only makes it worse. You find yourself squeezing your thighs together, wishing he was right next to you instead of in a different city, so you could kiss that smirk off his lips and let him show you all the different ways he can affect you.

“Don't do that,” you breathe out, almost pleadingly, every hint of sleepiness escaping your body.

“Do what, princess?”

“That,” you say a bit too loudly, calming down and lowering your voice when you add, “not when I'm three hours away.”

Azriel sighs, a heavy sound coming from deep in his chest, needing to feel your hands on him as much as you do. If you were in your apartment instead of at your parent's house, you might have gotten out of bed and made your way to his house with how needy you were starting to feel.

“It's a shame that I can't sit you on my lap right now and whisper every dirty little thing I want to do in your ear.” Truly a shame, you think as you press your legs together. “But we can try something else.”

“Try what?”

“Just want you to do as I say,” he explains, desire dripping on every word. You bite your lip, his intentions now crystal clear in your mind. This wasn't something you had ever done or even considered, but you feel a shiver of excitement run down your spine at just the thought. “Can you do that for me?”

“Yes,” you breathe out, heart beating wildly behind your ribcage as you hear the rustle of sheets through the speaker.

“Are you wearing my shirt?”

You let out a soft chuckle before answering unashamedly, “Yes.” You had taken to stealing some of his shirts to sleep or wear around your house before you even started dating, though stealing was probably the wrong choice of words seeing as he either let you or even gave you some of them himself. His shirts were not only comfortable but they also smelled like him so they quickly replaced your own old shirts you used to wear to sleep before.

Azriel lets out a hum, one that sounds more like a moan, probably lost in the thought of you touching yourself while wearing his shirt before he gathers himself and starts, “Want you to run your hand over your stomach, feel how warm and soft your skin is.” Your hands follow his commands easily, mimicking the way he caresses your skin instinctively, desire growing within you with every brush of your fingers.

“Now push your panties to the side,” he continued, voice getting deeper as he spoke through a clenched jaw, his own hand likely occupied as well, “tell me what you find.”

You knew what you'd find even before your hand traveled down to do as he said, a sigh escaping you all the same when your fingers dive between your folds, feeling just how soaked you were, a string connecting them to your cunt when you pull away.

“Are you wet for me?” The pleasure was obvious in his voice, and you had no doubt in your mind that he was stroking his cock as he spoke, the thought making your cunt clench around nothing.

“Yes,” you breathe out, nodding along even though he can't see you, swirling your fingers around and making a mess of yourself, careful to avoid your clit and entrance no matter how bad you need to take some of the edge off, waiting for him.

“Good,” he moans out, “Fuck, you're so good to me.”

If you closed your eyes, you could picture him laying on his bed, sheets thrown off his body and underwear long since discarded to the side, hand stroking his thick cock slowly, moving up and down as he also imagined what you looked like as you followed his orders, and wished it was your hand instead of his own.

“Now take your panties off,” he says after a moment, waiting patiently as he hears you shimmy them off your legs, sighing as you spread your thighs and bend your knee before letting him know he could continue. “Take two of your fingers into your mouth.”

“Azriel-”

“Need you to get them nice and wet for me.”

A whimper escapes you as memories of him saying these exact words rush into your mind. He loved seeing your mouth stuffed with his fingers, your tongue swirling around them as you looked up at him through your eyelashes. You almost tell him you didn't need to get them any wetter, your cunt was quite literally dripping, but you do as he says anyway, tasting yourself on your own fingers, pretending they were his instead, making a show of sucking on them and pulling them out with a pop just so you could hear the groan he lets out, a tremble running through your body at the delicious sound.

“Done?”

“Yeah,” you muse, entirely too proud of yourself for managing to get under his skin so easily.

“Alright,” he rasps, “Now roll them around your clit slowly, pretend they're mine.” You can't help the whimper of his name, your fingers circling your clit just like he said, closing your eyes and pretending it was his rough fingers instead of yours.

“Good girl,” he chuckles, “don't even gotta tell you to moan my name.”

“I need to be quiet though,” you remind him, remind yourself. If it was simply your roommate in the room down the hall it would only be a bit embarrassing, but it's your parents instead and them hearing you would be nothing short of mortifying.

“Such a shame,” he muses, the smirk almost audible on his voice. “You always sound so pretty for me, saying my name in that sweet breathy, fucked out voice of yours.”

“Azriel,” you whine, putting more pressure behind your fingers, - you really didn't think you needed much more to cum, especially if he kept whispering in your ear like that, - breathy, quiet moans pushing past your lips despite your warning.

“Like that,” he lets out between pants, fist tightening around his cock as well, “Just like that.”

“Keep talking, Az,” you murmur, your heart stuttering in your chest with every harsh breath you hear through the speaker, wanting to hear it in his voice. “You sound pretty too.”

Azriel only hums, staying quiet for a moment longer before letting out a groan. You hear his head knock softly against his headboard as he leans back, and briefly wonder if he could hear the sinful noises your cunt was making every time your fingers moved.

“Fuck, princess. You have no idea how much I wish I could taste you right now.” You did actually, you were burning with the same need. “Wanna bury my face in that sweet pussy of yours, make you cum on my tongue over and over again until you're all I can taste.”

The moan that pushes past your lips is entirely too loud for the quietness in your house, but you can't help it as the picture he paints assaults your mind. You're reminded of the feeling of his tongue against you, lapping up at your cunt until you're shaking with pleasure under him. Gods, you couldn't wait until you saw him again next weekend.

“Wanna taste you too,” you confess, speeding up your movements, mouth watering at the thought.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Think I could cum just thinking about you choking on my cock, trying to take all of me down that tight throat of yours.” Closing your eyes and biting your lip, you do your best to keep as quiet as you can, his filthy words sinking into your bloodstream. It felt like you were on fire even though you had long since kicked your sheets off your body, - you didn't think it was possible to be this turned on alone in your room.

“Fuck,” he chuckles, a ridiculously attractive sound, “I think I might.”

“Azriel, I'm-”

“Close?”

“So close,” you pant, right on the edge, your hand moving incessantly, goosebumps running through your skin.

“I'm right there with you,” he murmurs, “Cum for me, princess. Let me hear you.”

You let yourself fall as soon as he finishes speaking, mouth falling open in a silent scream as you're hit with wave after wave of pleasure, a few whines of his name pushing past your lips despite your efforts to keep quiet, the praises he lets out going straight to your head.

Azriel cums not soon after, his own pants and muffled moans of your name echoing through the speaker as you're coming down, making you feel all tingly knowing he just came as hard as you did without you ever touching him, and still your name was on his lips. It's unfair the way this man makes you feel, even when he's so far away from you.

“I decided I'm going to lock us in your room when I get back,” you speak up after you take a deep breath, only half joking.

“Is that so?”

“Mhm,” you continue, wiping your hand on your discarded panties, cringing softly at the feeling, knowing you have to get up and clean yourself up properly. “You're mine for the entire weekend.”

“You can lock us in for as long as you like,” he murmurs, “I'm all yours.”

[azrielstaylorsversion]

Unspoken fights

Azriel x reader | angst / fluff

Feyre wonders why Azriel and his mate aren't speaking to each other. Rhys explains about there unusual communication habits and she feels the need to fix it.

There were still two empty seats around the dinner table. Everyone had started eating already, not wanting to wait another half hour for Azriel and Y/N.

It didn't take much longer before they came walking in. Feyre quickly noticed them walking a few feet apart from each other. At least not as close as they usually were with each other.

Y/N walked in front of Azriel, her face showing no sign of emotion. She walked straight for Cassian's seat instead of the two empty ones on the other side of the table.

Azriel sighed softly and took a seat in one of the empty seats, immediately filling his plate with food. He didn't even acknowledge his family.

"Move." Y/N ordered Cassian, leaving no room for any argument. To Feyre's surprise, Cassian listened and moved over to the seat next to Azriel, leaving Y/N to sit next to Mor.

Cassian turned to face Azriel. His mouth opened to say something, but Azriel cut him off before he even got the chance to. "Don't even start." he said to his brother, not bothering to look at him.

Feyre watched the mated couple with concern. They never acted like this. At least not to her knowledge.

Feyre reached for Rhys mentally. 'What is going on with them?'

Rhys also watched the two and sighed, shaking his head. 'Probably a disagreement. This never lasts long. They will make up and talk about it tonight and tomorrow it is as it never happened.'

Y/N had now started eating as well, ignoring Cassians pointed look for claiming his seat. Azriel on the other hand had stopped eating and was just staring at the wall with a grumpy face.

'Does this happen often?' Feyre questioned.

'Not really. Maybe once a year.' Rhys answered. 'They have their disagreements and differences, but they always talk about it immediately. They never let it get as far as... whatever this is.'

After dinner everyone went their own way. Except for Y/N, who decided to stay in the dinning room even when Azriel had left.

Feyre had seen Azriel glance at his mate for a moment, hesitating to walk towards her before he continued to walk out.

It was well past midnight when Feyre decided to get something to drink from the kitchen. She noticed the lights in the dining hall still being turned on.

Feyre poked her head inside, finding Y/N still in the same place she had last seen her. She was staring at the wall in front of her, an empty glass of wine on the table.

"Y/N?" Feyre said softly.

She almost jumped from the sound of her voice. "Oh, Feyre. Sorry I didn't see you there."

Feyre stood in the doorway. "Are you okay?" she asked her friend.

Y/N stayed silent for a short moment, her face filling with emotion. "Yes. Everything is okay."

Feyre could tell that the answer wasn't true.

"I actually wondered if I could stay here for the night?" she asked.

The question shocked Feyre a bit. As far as she knew, Y/N had never voluntarily slept away from home. Away from her mate.

"Yes, of course. But are you sure you don't want to go home?" she still decided to ask.

Y/N stood from her seat, making her way towards the door Feyre was standing.

"I'm sure. If you don't mind, I'll be going to my old room." she said, giving Feyre a tight mouthed smile and walking past her.

She obviously meant her and Az's old room. She always called it that.

Feyre decided to leave it for the night and return to her own mate, who was waiting for her upstairs.

The next morning Y/N ate breakfast with her, Rhys and Nyx. Her mood was definitely off.

She normally wasn't much of a talker, but now she was just quiet. She also looked extremely tired, as if she hadn't slept at all last night.

'Shouldn't they be back to normal by now?' Feyre asked Rhys mentally.

'Honestly, the fact that she even chose to sleep here last night does worry me.' Rhys told me.

Feyre debated saying something about it, but Rhys warned her before she had the chance. 'They'll be back to normal by tonight.' Rhys told her promising, even when he didn't sound so sure herself.

Y/N had disappeared during the day. Probably off to her normal duties.

Feyre felt surprised when she entered the River House in the afternoon and found Y/N sitting in the living room, with no sign of Azriel.

She greeted Feyre with a soft smile before sitting down on a chair by the fire.

"So did you do anything fun today?" she suddenly asked.

"I took a walk with Nyx and helped Rhys with work. Nothing more." Feyre asked with a smile. "What about you?" she asked with hesitation.

Y/N sighed, staying silent after. Then she just shrugged. "Not really. I just feel.. I don't know."

Feyre suddenly understood why she started a conversation. Y/N wanted distraction.

"It's okay to miss him. Even it's been a day." Feyre decided to tell her. Y/N just avoided her eyes at that.

She stayed silent for a good ten seconds.

"It's just so stupid." she said.

"What is stupid?" Feyre questioned.

"This whole pointless fight. I mean I started it. I got mad about something that wasn't even his fault. And I just wanted to be right so bad." she started speaking quickly. "And I made him feel so bad and I didn't even mean it like that. I just felt jealous. And now I ruined everything and-"

"Calm down a second. You're just spitting out your words at this point." Feyre chuckled. "Why were you jealous?"

Y/N stared into the crackling fire, hiding her face from Feyre. "A Fae woman stopped Azriel on our way to dinner to ask him something. She touched his arm." she told me. "And he immediately pulled away. He was just being polite by answering her. But I still got so mad and it was just stupid."

Feyre did understand her jealousy. She had experienced it with Rhys countless of times before.

"Even after being mated for decades I still sometimes get periods where my instincts are worse than normal. Just before we entered the River House I decided to ignore him. And just to prove a point I stayed away from him last night. But now I feel so guilty. And he's probably mad at me at this point." she sounded disappointed with herself.

Feyre moved over to her friend. "Of course he's not mad at you." Feyre told her reassuring. "It's Azriel. He loves you too much to be mad at you over this."

Y/N slowly moved her eyes to look at Feyre. She nodded to herself. "Yes. Yes, I hope so." she said. "But I haven't acted this childish in years. So I can understand if he were mad at me."

"Trust me, I would've had the same reaction as you." Feyre told her with a small laugh. "Why don't we ask Azriel to come here so you can explain it to him? I'll be here if you need me."

She nodded. "Yes. That'll probably be a good idea." she answered. "I'll see if I can get to him through the bond."

It didn't take very long before the front door of the River House opened and closed. The sound of it was soft, like someone who usually came in with no sound.

Azriel definitely let his presence be known by his footsteps, which were heavier than usual.

When Azriel entered the room, Y/N immediately stood from her seat.

"Az, I'm sor-"

"I'm so s-"

They both cut each other off.

Y/N stared at Azriel. "What do you need to be sorry for? It was me who did it." she took a step closer to her mate.

"Yes, but I still have to apologize for even letting that woman get close to me, I shouldn't have."

"No, you don't need to apologize for being kind towards a woman. I could see you pull away. And she only placed a hand on you. I am the one who should be sorry."

Azriel went quiet for a few seconds. Y/N stared at him with emotion in her eyes.

Who knew that the two of them had arguments like this. I was just sitting in a chair, watching them.

"This is so stupid." Azriel said.

A small smile formed on Y/N lips. "It is." she told him. "But I understand if you're mad at me."

"Of course I'm not mad at you. I did the same thing at the start of our relationship, remember? And that was before we were even mated. So I understand." he told her. "Come here." he opened his arms for her to walk in to.

I could hear Y/N whisper some things to her mate, but I soon felt like I was invading their privacy.

Azriel noticed my awkward look and smiled. He placed a hand on the small of Y/N's back. "Let's go home." he told her softly.

She nodded and let him lead her out of the room.

She threw a quick look over her shoulder, mouthing thank you to Feyre.

[thedemoninme141]

Wednesday got Ghosted... literally.

Never ever thought I would write Halloween specials but here I am...

Paring: Wednesday X Fem Reader! Theme: Fluff!!!

Summary: Wednesday confesses her feelings on a Halloween date.

You wanted a date for Halloween since Wednesday won't go trick or treating with you, you jumped on the offer to trek out to an old, abandoned house in the woods—a place the locals swore was haunted—with her.

And now you both sat on the wooden balcony that hung off the back of the house. Wednesday glanced at you, scrutinizing the way you stared blankly out at the woods, as if you were lost in your thoughts. You seemed quiet, too quiet.

“Do you…” she began, her voice quieter than usual. “Do you regret coming here with me tonight?”

You glanced at her, eyes slightly widened, surprised that she’d even ask. Wednesday wasn’t usually one for questioning her actions—or caring how others felt about them.

“I just thought, perhaps, you might be disappointed that I dragged you here instead of letting you do…something more festive.” She looked away, unsure if you could read the tinge of insecurity in her face.

You tilted your head, looking at her, silent as ever, which only made her feel more self-conscious. She didn’t know what to make of it. Usually, she adored the fact that you didn’t constantly babble on like everyone else did. But tonight, she wanted—no, needed—some kind of reassurance.

“If I’m being honest,” she continued, voice a bit lower, “I've wondered a lot... If I am enough for you.” She cast her gaze downward. “My feelings… they are complicated. I suppose they’re not easily expressed in ways you might expect, or—” She clenched her jaw, then forced herself to go on. “Or that you deserve.”

"Sometimes I think that you see something in me that isn’t really there," Wednesday whispered, "And I fear that one day you’ll realize you were wrong. That you’ll wake up, look at me, and think, ‘this wasn’t worth it.’" She clenched her jaw, the briefest flicker of pain crossing her face before she forced herself to look at you again, her eyes steady.

"But then you… you fascinate me," she admitted, "The way you fearlessly follow me to places like this. Most people run from me, but you… you stay. You follow. It answers all those doubts. Do you have any idea what that does to me?"

A small smile tugged at her lips, but she looked away, as though embarrassed by the thought. "I thought I'd find myself alone, somewhere like this. And I thought… perhaps I’d like that."

Wednesday paused, her hand ghosting closer to yours. "But then you came along, completely oblivious, and ruined all of that," she said, her voice softened by an edge of tenderness. "And, against my better judgment, I don’t resent you for it."

"There are things I struggle with, you know," she went on. "Emotions. They’re foreign… unwieldy. But here I am, feeling them—feeling you, in every cold, dark part of myself that used to belong to nothing and no one." She turned, and her dark gaze fixed onto you, almost vulnerable. "I don't know if I can be what you deserve, but…" She swallowed, her voice soft. "I need you to know, if I’m capable of love, you’re the only one I’d give it to."

"I don’t know why I’m saying all of this," she admitted. "I’d tell myself it’s for your benefit, but really, I think it’s for mine. To tell you things I never knew I’d feel." Her voice trailed off, and she pressed her lips together as if already regretting her words.

A long silence fell between you two, and the quiet grew deeper, the forest still and watching as if it too were waiting for your response.

Then, from behind, a voice broke the silence: "Sorry I’m late, Wends… had to fix Enid’s costume trouble… umm, who’s that?"

Wednesday felt her cold blood run colder. She turned, her gaze landing on… you. You, standing at the doorway, looking at her with your familiar, gentle eyes.

The “you” beside her shrank back slightly, lifting "your" hands in surrender, as though embarrassed by the whole ordeal.

Wednesday's gaze snaps back to the figure beside her — the “you” who had been sitting with her all this time.

Her voice hardens. “Who the hell are you?”

"Um… I wanted to haunt you after taking Y/N’s face," the ghostly you confessed, scratching the back of it's head. "But given the gravity of the situation with your emotions and all… I’ll leave you two alone." The ghost looked at Wednesday, gave a curt nod, and disappeared into the shadows with an almost sheepish wave.

Wednesday was still, her gaze now fixed on you, her surprise melting into a look that could only be described as deadly.

"…How long were you there?" you asked, stepping forward, trying to hide the amused smile on your lips. "And what did you tell the ghost?"

Wednesday’s mouth tightened, her cheeks coloring ever so slightly. "I… told the ghost," she began slowly, clearly unwilling to divulge the truth, "nothing..."

You chuckled, glancing at her with a playful grin. "So… I hope I wasn’t replaced too badly, was I?"

Wednesday let out a frustrated sigh. Perhaps she should've gone trick or treating with you.

At the Ghosts Pub: Hey guys! you won't believe what happened!

[Author's note: It was really fun to write it, Comment how you guys like it.

Request me for more one-shots!!!]

->WORKLIST<-

[adrienneleclerc]

Día de Muertos

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Mexican! Reader

Summary: Per Mexican tradition, Y/N makes an altar for her family members that passed away. She added Charles’s family members as well

Warning: spelling and grammatical errors, death, inaccuracies

A/N: This was the first time I put up an ofrenda and since today is Day of the Dead, it’s fitting

The best thing about dating a Formula 1 driver is the traveling. Y/N joined Charles in all his races, mainly because she is able to work from home as an event planner. So when they were in Mexico City for the Grand Prix, she bought papel picado, sugar skulls, and little dog alebrijes. Now that they are in Brazil, Y/N bought candles, a table cloth, marigolds, and printed out photos to set up the altar.

Y/N made it back to the hotel while Charles was in the track for free practice. She placed the table cloth over the hotel room desk, added the papel picado and marigold before placing the photos in the place card holder. There was one of her aunt that died from cancer, her grandpa that died of old age, Jules, and Hervé. Onces the little altar was set up exactly how she wanted it, she placed the candles near their photos and added the sugar skulls and alebrijes wherever there was an empty space.

Though Y/N wasn’t in Mexico anymore, there are Mexican restaurants in Brazil and she ordered her aunt’s and grandpa’s favorite food plus pan de muerto to have it delivered to the hotel. There was a knock on the door and when Y/N opened it, expecting to see a hotel employee with Mexican food, she saw her boyfriend.

“Muñeco, i thought you would still be in the track.” Y/N said, charles leaned in and kissed Y/N on the cheek before walking into their hotel room.

“We finished, what’s all this?” Charles asked, pointing to the table.

“Right. Well, today is day of the dead and usually I’m in my apartment to make this ofrenda but now I’m dating you so I brought the ofrenda with me.” Y/N explained but Charles looked confused. “Um, it’s an altar, it’s a way to honor my dead relatives and welcome their spirits to our home. I usually go all out but this is a hotel room and I don’t want the fire alarm to go off.” Y/N explained and Charles looked closer at the ofrenda and saw a picture of Jules and another one of his father.

“You put them up?” Charles asked in a whisper, he felt his eyes getting teary, picking up the photo of him and his dad.

“I know you miss them a lot, everything you are doing in formula 1 in for them, I thought it would be nice to add them to the ofrenda. I know this isn’t really your tradition but it’s mine and I want to share it with you.” Y/N said softly, Charles looked at her and kissed her forehead.

“Thank you, Mon ange, that is very sweet of you, really.” Charles said.

“Um, it’s tradition to add their favorite food on the altar. I ordered some Mexican for my aunt and grandpa, what did Jules and your dad like to eat?” Y/N asked.

“I Don’t think we could get it here but they liked…” Charles told Y/N their favorite foods.

“I’m sure we could order it from somewhere.” Y/N said. There was a knock and Y/N opened the door, it was the food she ordered. She got the food and gave the man a tip before walking back to Charles. “We also have this bread that’s called pan de muerto, we place it on the ofrenda too.”

“I’m sure they would enjoy the bread.” Charles said smiling. He opened the bag to help Y/N place the bread on the table. “So when we were is Mexico and you told me you were shopping, you were preparing for this?”

“Of course! I’m still Mexican, Muñeco, my tradition won’t change because I’m in another country.” Y/N said and Charles chuckled. Y/N placed the food in front of her aunt’s and grandpa’s picture.

“Maybe next year you can put up the ofrenda in my place.” Charles said.

“You mean that?” Y/N asked.

“I do, we haven’t been dating long but I feel very happy with you, happier than I have been in a long time.” Charles said before he kissed Y/N softly.

“I feel happy with you too. Oh, do you want some bread? It’s really good.” Y/N said, grabbing a loaf (?) and offering it to charles.

“Sure.” Charles said, tearing off of a piece of bread to taste. He hummed in content. “This is really good, do they sell this a lot on Mexico for day of the dead?”

“Yes they do, Mexican bread is the best.” Y/N said,

“I Can tell. I’m going to send a picture of the altar to my mom, is that okay?” Charles asked.

“Yeah, it’s okay.” Y/N said and Charles took a picture of the altar, making sure Pascale could clearly see his dad and Jules. He sent it to his mom and got a response in 2 minutes.

“My mom said it’s very sweet and considerate of you to add my dad and Jules.” Charles said.

“I May not have met them but I know how much they mean to you, I couldn’t leave them out.” Y/N said, looking down all shy. Charles brought his his finger under her chin to make her look at him,

“I love you so much, thank you for this.” Charles said before kissing her deeply.

“Don’t mention it.” Y/N said as soon as they separated from the kiss. They hugged each other. “I think we should watch Coco.” Charles laughed at her suggestion. “Well how else are you supposed to get the day of the dead?”

“Fine, let’s see if you can connect you phone to the hotel TV.” Charles said.

And that’s how they spent Día de Muertos, watching Coco on Disney plus and eating pan de muerto.

The End

Hope y’all liked it!

[ziminy]

Run little butterfly

You were trying to run from home when you met him, disappearing from his side just the way you appeared next to him, in a dramatic way out of nowhere. And now that he found you, he won't let you go ever again.

Tags: smut, mdni, f!Cinderella reader, king!sukuna, true form sukuna, Sukuna's hand mouth (you'll see what I'm talking about), oral (m and f receiving), first time, fingering, creampie, crying, double penetration, two dicks kuna, Sukuna being a little bit too obsessed with you, jealousy, Sukuna haves a harem,

Author's note: this is a last minute fic I came up with to not leave sukuna out this year's list. Don't worry bbg, I'll never forget about you😘

Author's note: a very much different version of Cinderella. I was thinking of sticking to the original but it doesn't really scream me, so I had to change it.

Masterlist kinktober masterlist

You were the only child of a small noble house. You grew up enjoying the little's of life, trying to understand the beauty of it and the people next to you.

Your father was gone most of the time since he was traveling for work. You had your mother next to you, making you feel less sad and looking forward for the next day to come.

But your happiness didn't lasted for long, because your mother fell ill. And not long after that, she unfortunately passed away, leaving you and your father all alone.

It was sad, your favorite person in the world disappearing just in a blink of an eye.

You didn't even had time to mourn her death and your father remarried, bringing home a woman you never saw in your life and two other kids who happened to be the same age as you.

You were ignored most of the time, your father gone and your new mother couldn't give a single fuck about what you were doing.

You wished you could go back in time when no one would look in your direction. Because the moment your father also passed away, your life did a 180.

Everything happened way to fast, losing your family, now even the servants leaving because that woman was refusing to pay them. You were also moved to the attic.

You couldn't catch a single break since that woman and her daughters were mistreating you everyday.

You stayed there for a few years, that until you turned old enough to leave somewhere far away and live independently.

You didn't cared about the house, the memories, the people you once loved anymore. All you wanted was to run as soon as possible.

So, one afternoon, right after everybody called it a day and you were supposed to go to sleep, you tried to make your escape.

Taking a horse, you made your way to the gate, getting ready to run so far away that you won't have to ever think about this place again.

You followed the main path, going and going, not stopping until you were out of town.

For the first time in years, you were happy. The more you were getting away from that hell hole, the more you smiled.

After good minutes of getting further away from that house, you calmed down. Feeling at a safe distance to finally breath and let all the weight from your shoulders drop.

You stopped in front of an inn. Getting off your horse and leave it in front of the illuminated building, petting it for a moment before you got some courage to get inside.

You had a few coins that you managed to save over the past few weeks. It wasn't much, but it was enough to keep you alive for a few days until you find some accommodation, a house that you could finally call your own.

You opened the door, immediately being met with a few people that were sitting at the tables. This places was a lot more full on the inside that it looked on the outside. Whatever, it was none of your business what other does when you had your own problems.

"I'd like to rent a room for the night." you said when you got to the counter.

"I have to check what rooms I have available." the older man in front of you said.

"Also, I have a horse outside. Do you have a stable where I can move it to?" you asked, hoping that your loyal friend will get a good night sleep.

"In the back." you wasted no more time and went outside, moving your horse to a comfortable stable where it could rest for a while.

Now, you were walking back to the inn, ready to pay for your room and sleep until tomorrow morning, then take off to another town and only imagining how life would be stress free.

Right outside the inn, there was an extremely tall guy, you could only see his body form because he had his face covered with the hood of his cloak.

You only looked at him for a moment, but right before you were about to enter the tavern, you felt some arms on you, being dragged to the side.

Your heart was about to get out your chest, you thought that was the end of your journey. Here goes your freedom. It haven't even been an hour and you were caught already.

But instead of your evil step mother or her ugly daughters, you were met with that tall man from earlier.

"I must admit, they did a good job this time." he said in a low voice that gave you chills down your spine. You were confused, not understanding his words, but you didn't dared to open your mouth. You just stood there, silent, waiting for an explanation.

You looked at him with big eyes, you could bearly see his face since it was dark outside, and the light from inside the inn wasn't giving you any help to figure out who he was.

He knew nothing about you and he was already salivating. You were nothing like he saw before. Daring to show up before him in peasants clothes, looking tired and full of anxiety. And yet, you looked so sweet that he couldn't help but want to break you already.

He thought he said he doesn't want any kind of unwanted guests during his trip, but he's not complaining about it when you looked so ready to take him.

He couldn't help but laugh, making you even more confused, and now trying to get away.

When you thought that you could get free, you felt another pair or arms around you. Now you got four arms on you, two on your hips and keeping you in place, one hand on your arm and one under your chin, lifting it up to look at him.

All you could see were his red eyes, that looked like they're glowing.

He looked like a beast who just captured his prey and you couldn't help but feel scared, he was way too intimidating.

His eyes scaned your face for a moment, looking at the dumb expression you had, and then it went lower.

Your lips look so tasty. He wanted to kiss you just to see how you'll react, even if he's usually the type to avoid such act.

Usually, his women would come into his room, look all dolled up and pretty before they take care of him and then leave. No questions asked, no feelings involved.

However, you look so dumb. He couldn't help but want to tease you. To touch you and overstimulate you until you're even more stupid that you already are.

He leaned down, getting his face closer to yours, somehow trying to anticipate your next move. Will you moan or will you keep quiet? Now he wanted to hear your broken cries even more.

He stopped right in front of your face, your noses almost touching. All he did was to look at you.

You froze, all the air from your lungs stopping in place. You couldn't process what was going on.

"Don't use that pretty brain on things you don't understand." even he can't understand why he was acting like that. Craving for you even if this is the first time he saw you.

You parted your lips, wanting to say something, but you couldn't say a single word. Your voice was stuck in your throat.

"Forget about everything they told you. That training was irrelevant." training? What was he talking about? "I make the rules, remember that." right, you shouldn't listen to his servants telling you how to please him. He knows himself better than them.

He misunderstood this completely. You weren't one of his new added toys to his collection. You had no idea who he even was to begin with.

But he didn't cared, his face continued moving, ignoring whatever questions you might have as his lips finally touched yours.

His eyes were cold, and so was his touch. His hands were roughly placed on your body, dragging you closer in his arms. His kisses were loveless, no sign of affection as he tried to deeper the kiss.

Taking all the warmth you had to offer, his cold body was slowly becoming warmer. Bathing in your scent, one of his hands went behind your head, holding you in place to be able to kiss you better. One of his hands on yours, trying to wrap it around his body, wanting to feel more of your touch.

He wanted to be in your arms, to feel how is it when you hold him tightly.

Fuck is even wrong with him. He's not usually like this but now his cocks were hard against his pants, wanting to break free and be inside you. Ah, but he's going feral just thinking about your warm wet cunt taking all of him in. And you must take him in, he won't let you rest until you can take him properly.

"Master." someone could be heard from behind a corner, making you jump and almost run from there.

"Tsk." the tall man said annoyed, getting his face away from you, now fixing his posture but still having you in his arms.

"I prepared the thing you asked me to." that person said again, not daring to show their face.

"Alright." the man said annoyed, finally getting his arms away from you. He looked at you for one more time before he left, leaving you all alone to process what just happened.

You couldn't possibly remain there for the night, you had to leave this place, and you had to leave now. That guy was nothing but a big red flag. Everything about him screamed danger, and you weren't stupid enough to fuck around and find out.

So, in a desperate attempt to get away from there, you went back to the stables, getting your horse out and getting on top of it. You left that place in a hurry, not looking back for a moment as you went back to the place you consider to be safe. By safe I meant that he couldn't possibly appear there, there's no way he could.

So, you ran back to that hell house. Leaving the horse back in its place as you quickly ran inside the house.

Never in your life did you think you'll be so happy to see the same old kitchen you spend most of your time into. And never were you so happy to run to the attic and jump into that rusty bed, falling asleep immediately.

But when you finally got home, the mysterious stranger that you met at the inn just finished his task. Getting into his room and calling for someone to get you to him. He couldn't help but want to ravish you right there and then, split you open on his dicks and pump a few loads in you.

"There's no one in this inn that describes that appearance." were they shitting on him now?

"This female that was recently added to the harem." he tried to find other words to explain it. He knew nothing about you besides how you looked and how sweet you taste for him.

"She's currently at the palace. You told us you don't want to see her because of how inexperienced she was." he did that, didn't he. He remembers something now, a girl with long dark hair getting into his bed wearing nothing but a red transparent bathrobe. She was nothing but talk, it made him lose interest immediately.

"Then I want to see all the females in this inn." he got to find you. He knows you're real, it was no way you weren't.

"There are no other guests besides us." then who the fuck were you? Why did you appeared only before him and then disappeared after making him so hungry for you. Were you a piece of his imagination? No wander he wanted to touch you so bad.

Then he haves no option but to look for someone similar to you, his vision, when he gets back to the palace.

And that night, one of you slept better than a a cat napping under the sunlight and the other was wide awake the whole time.

Sure, the next day came and it reminded you of why you tried to run in the first place, but wasn't it better when you knew you won't have to deal with strangers. Especially someone like that brute of a man.

Your chores and the harassment those three women gave you was annoying, but after yesterday, you'll managed to live a few more weeks with it.

When the weather clears, you'll go out again, and this time you'll do a lot more better.

But perhaps, the universe was giving you a much better solution than to sneak out the house.

Because, you see, by the end of that week your house received a invitation to the Royal ball, and it says that the king is finally going to chose a queen.

Your sisters were running around in circles trying to find a good dress. And the mess they made while looking around was giving you headaches.

But you couldn't really complain when you're planning to leave while they're at the ball.

"Can I come to the ball?" you asked with a basket full of clothes in your hands, being tasked to wash and iron them by the end of the day.

"Mother! Do you hear her nonsense?" one of the sisters yelled, making you close your eyes at the loud noise.

"She can't! Mother!" the other sister said, going to her mother and trying to beg her to say no.

"Do you think they need more servants there? It's a happy ceremony, not a job interview." you knew no was the answer, but still. You tried to see if something changed at least in one of them. Hoping to find a reason to stay in this house for a little longer.

The moment they left in their carriage to the ball, it was the moment you ran out the house and ready to get on the horse.

"Now now, no need to be sad." a masculine voice could be heard behind you, making you turn around instantly.

Two men, both of them dressed in black, one with long black hair and the other with white hair and sun glasses.

"We're here to save you." the white haired guy said, making you raise an eye brow. "Aren't you glad?"

"Who are you?" they acted like it was normal for two unknown men to appear in your yard and act all nonchalant.

"Your fairy godmother."

"But you're two, and men." you tried to correct their words.

"We come in a package. And being a fairy godmother sounds better than a fairy godfather." the white haired guy said.

"Gojo and I will help you go to the ball." the dark haired man said.

"I don't want to." you refused, getting your horse out and ready to get on it.

"But you looked so sad earlier." the white haired guy sounded like he was mocking you. "Come on, don't lie to us."

"If you want to do something for me then kick those women out." it was much better than going to a ball you weren't invited to.

"But you look like you already have your future planned out. Why would we interfere?"

"Then why are you here?" you said, getting ready to get on your horse.

"We better get started or you'll arive when the ball is finished." out of nowhere both of them got some kind of wands in their hands, moving it around in the air before both of them started to do their magic.

"If you're going to a ball you'll need a carriage." the dark haired guy said and you saw a pumpkin floating in the air, getting in front of you and slowly becoming bigger, slightly changing its color and shape.

"We need horses too." the other man said and some mices were turned into horses.

"And a coachman." they looked like they were having fun while you were still very much miserable.

"What about the dress?"

"Something blue?" with a hand movement, your clothes were changed into a big ball gown dress. "And look, glass slippers."

"That will be uncomfortable." the dark haired guy said, getting ready to change your shoes into something more comfortable.

"No, no. They're very much comfortable. Try to walk around." the other guy said, making you walk back and forth and give him a review of how your shoes were.

"It's good. My feet doesn't hurt." you said and try to jump around to show that everything was alright.

"Okay then. Get inside." both of them pushed you inside the carriage.

"You have until midnight to come back."

"The spell breaks when the clock shows 12. Remember that."

"Now go, and don't come back until you had all the fun you needed." they both disappeared into thin air. Leaving you alone in a carriage on the way to a ball you didn't want to go to.

You could jump out the carriage and go back home. But if you're being honest, you want to have a last good memory before you leave your good for nothing status and name and live freely.

A ball didn't sounded that bad. There would be music, food, and a lot of people so you won't have to worry about standing out. There's peacocks out there who are trying too hard to make themselves distinguished, so, you're good.

The castle was a lot bigger up close. You could see it every day from your window in the morning. It already looked big, but now? Damn, you're scared you'll stand out because you have no idea how to act like a noble.

You took a deep breath before getting out of the carriage. Grabbing a bit of your dress in your hands, to help you walk up the stairs.

With small steps, you took your time, looking around at the beautiful paintings and the way the whole place looked like it was covered in gold.

There were guards everywhere. It was a bit scary, if you think about it, but you chose to ignore it.

"Excuse me." you went to someone who looked like they worked there. "Do you know where the ballroom is at?" you asked, being lost in that foreign place.

"This way, miss." the man said in a professional voice, showing you the way to the place where you'll spend the next few hours before you disappear for good.

You went inside the room, being welcomed with a lot of people who didn't looked twice in your direction.

The ballroom was filled with music, but no one was dancing. Rather than that, they were talking between themselves.

Rich people, what do you know.

Most of them were dressed in a similar way to you, but there were some who went over the top. And now that you're thinking about it, your step sisters were doing too much. They probably stand out like crazy, and you couldn't help but giggle.

You decided to go and look around. What's a party without food and drinks?

Making your way between people who didn't wanted to move and inch, you found a table with some desserts on it. They look so tasty, and the taste was even more incredible. Can you steal a few for your journey? Or can you pretend to be a worker there and sneak into the kitchen?

Happy with your discovery, you took a plate of some cake and went to sit somewhere where no one will disturb you.

A small couch that was surrounded by little to no people. And you couldn't ask for more.

You sat on it, enjoying the sweet in your hands, the peace and the fact that no one was giving you any attention.

But the thing is, that if you payed some attention you would have saw why no one dared to stay there. It was the closest couch to the king.

It was in the right side of the throne, just a few feet away from it.

How could you be so blind? How could you not notice that brute of a man. Standing so tall that you could see him from a few crowds away, four arms, not two like the rest of the people in that ballroom. Pink hair that looked like candy, and yet it didn't made him look any softer.

Unlike you, he noticed the person who sat on the couch right away.

His eyes widened, mouth slightly opened as he kept looking at you again and again. Blinking, rubbing his eyes and then blinking again.

"You see that person?" the king asked the closest person next to him, to confirm he wasn't seeing things.

"The lady in the blue dress?" that was all he needed to hear to know he was in fact not hallucinating.

He got up, ignoring who ever dared to come his way and walk to you, stopping right in front of you who still haven't acknowledged his existence.

You raised your head when you finally noticed him, mouth full of delicious cake. You had the same big round eyes he remembers. You gulped, swallowing the sweet down your throat. He haven't said a word since he stopped in front of you, still being in his own world, still not believing that you came to him yourself. He didn't had to look for a replacement anymore.

"Can I help you?" your voice was like magic to him. It could make him melt if you said the right words.

He laughed, a big smirk on his face. But that only made you confused.

You looked left and then right, looking for a clue on what's going on. Perhaps he wanted to sit down and this was the only available space. You knew that nobles have some complicated etiquettes they follow, so maybe he's waiting for you to do something?

Ah, you finally get it. You got up, bowing politely to let him know that was your goodbye. But when you wanted to turn around, you suddenly woke up in the air, and a pair of arms wrapped around you.

"Wha-" panicked, you grabbed onto him. But now that you look at the situation, he was the one who got you in his arms, carrying you out of there. "What are you doing?" this couldn't be normal.

"Don't act like you don't remember me now." his words made sense to you, somehow.

He looked familiar, but you couldn't figure out from where. You don't know his name, this was the first time you saw his face, but that voice sounded so familiar. And his body, it also looked like you saw it before.

He walked around the castle like he owned it. Opening door after door, and getting deeper inside it, and far away from the ballroom.

"Who are you?" he was no ordinary person, you could see that. He walked freely without a single person saying a thing.

He made the guards look like decorations, and they didn't dared to say a thing to him. The palace workers bowed before him, and even the nobles were trying to please him.

"Where are you taking me?" you asked when you figured the answer to the first question.

He still didn't said a word and open one last door.

This room was deep inside the palace, you'd get lost if you try to run from there on your own. But perhaps that was what he wanted from the start. To lock you somewhere you won't be able to run from even if you try to escape.

That place had a big bed in the middle of the room, a couch that was facing the fire place, a big bookcase filled from top to bottom and some really big windows. From what you can see out the windows, and the fact you just walked up a lot of stairs, you were really high up. You won't be able to survive without breaking a few bones if you try to jump.

He really thought of everything, huh?

Walking to the bed, he placed you on it. Turning around and walking towards the door. He didn't thought of finding you this soon, so he had no idea what to do.

"Can I.." you bite your lips before speaking, too afraid that you know the answer too well. "Can I still go home?" he paused when he got in front of the door, but didn't said a thing. "The guys that helped me get here told me to get back before midnight." he almost broke the door when he heard those words. The what? The guys? They did what? "This is actually a spell. I don't actually look like this." he turned around and marched to the bed.

There was something scary in his eyes. But you couldn't help but look at him.

Did you tricked him? Was someone plotting against him and send a doppelganger to play with him?

"Who sent you?"

"I have no idea." you looked away. He won't believe you even if you tell him.

"Tell me." his cold eyes could petrify anyone.

"You don't trust me." you shook your head, trying to brush this off.

"I do. Now tell me." he looked like he could kill you right there, and no one would say a thing about it. You won't be missed, you won't be mourned. You don't even have someone to think about even in your last moments of living.

"Can I leave or not?" your voice just as cold as his, and for a moment he could feel his blood boil. You talked to other men, they send you there to the palace to make a clown out of him and now you dared to act like it was his fault for locking you in a place where he knows you won't run from.

"No." you sighed at his response. Disappointed in yourself for even trying, for listening to some strange men and for not running away when you had the perfect chance to.

"At midnight I turn back to my usual self. I'm not like this, I don't dress this way. You won't like me anymore after that." he was looking for a replacement from the start. This ball was held to find a doll that resembled you. And he found it. You can turn into a hideous monster and he'll find a way to turn you back into this form.

"And you think that I care?"

You looked confused. You had no idea what was going on in his head. What made him act like this and why.

Did you looked like an ex lover? Or someone who passed away? Because if that's the case, then he won't find what he's looking for in you.

"I won't submit to you." you tried to make it clear. "I'm my own person. I can't act like someone else."

He takes your words as a challenge.

He'll transform you into the perfect puppet. You'll match his expectations and taste in all aspects. You'll love him with all your heart and wait for him to return to you at the end of the day. All you need is a little training. And by how things looks, you'll need an intense one.

"You think you can defy me, brat?" he was mocking you. His voice was so annoying.

His face, his body, his status, everything was getting on your nerves now.

"I'm going home." you said. It wasn't a question or request, you were letting him know.

"Try." the shock look on your face was priceless. You looked offended by his words and he couldn't ask for more. He lied, he will get more out of you. Words, expression, feelings, he wants to see everything.

You tried to get up the bed, ignoring the fact that he was right in front of you. He didn't stopped you, he just looked at your dumbfounded expression when your actions weren't stopped by him.

He laughed, his voice filling the whole room.

You looked like you were going to cry, and he couldn't help but want to bite you. Sink his teeth deep into your flesh and leave marks all over your body.

For a moment, you stopped in place, not daring to get close to the door anymore.

Where have you felt that feeling before? The feeling of being watched by a ferocious predator.

You slowly turn around, to look at him who was sitting on the floor, his back against the bed. You recognize those red eyes now. It's the same as back then, when you almost successfully ran from home but you were met with that freak who made you turn around.

The realization look you had on your face made his eyes darker.

You had to get out of there, now.

You were if full panic mode, slowly walking backwards to the door, putting your hands on the handle and open it. Not a single second wasted as you ran down that hallway, dress in your arms and trying to get as far away from him as possible.

You stopped just for a moment to look back when you got to some stairs. He was nowhere to be seen, and you didn't know if you actually lost him or he was playing with you.

Whatever, you can think about that after you run from there.

The midnight clock could be heard in the background, but you weren't preoccupied by it. In fact, you couldn't even hear it, too focused on running down that mountain of stairs.

One of your shoes slipped off your foot. You turned around to look at it, and then you saw him, at the end of the stairs and looking down at you.

Your heart skipped a beat, and you almost stopped working for a moment.

Leave it there, a shoe didn't matter when you had far more things to worry about.

You soon got to a hallway, a big open door a few meters away of you, and you couldn't help but run even faster. But the closer you got, the more the door close. And by the time you got to it, it was completely shut.

"No, please!" you banged on the door. "Let me through." no answer.

You tried to open it, pulling it as hard as you can, but nothing. Going back wasn't an answer, and there weren't any other rooms that you could hide in.

There was only one option left. So many windows on your right, it was easy to open one and try to escape. And so you did, you opened a window and looked down for a moment. A broken neck doesn't sounds that bad, if you're thinking about it.

You took a deep breath, with a hand lifting as much of your dress in your arms, and with the other holding onto the window, ready to jump on it and see what the outcome of this event will be.

With no hesitation, you placed your knee on the window frame, trying to balance yours with your other foot and get on top of the window. But then you felt those big muscular arms wrapped around you once again.

"I didn't thought you had the balls to do it." his mouth was right into your ear, his voice leaving chills all over your body. "I might lock you in the basement if you continue to be a bad girl." he can do it, who's stopping him. You won't give up without a good fight.

"So? What do you want from me?" with this he knew you were the person he was looking for. Daring to disappear again just like back at the inn. You loved getting on his nerves, didn't you?

"We have unfinished business." what was he talking about?

"I didn't do anything." and that's the problem. The fact that you left him when he needed you. How dare you.

"Look at the time." he said when he was walking back on the stairs, holding you in his arms. With two holding your body and the other two wrapped around you, in case you planned on doing something crazy again.

"I told you, this is all a spell." and he can't wait for it to go away.

He stopped in place, and you had no idea what he was going to do. "Your shoe." he said, looking at the glass slipper.

"That would disappear too." but that didn't stopped him from moving one of his hands from you and picking up the glass slipper.

He continued walking back to that cursed room, throwing you in bed.

"Let's wait for the spell to break." he sat on a chair next to the door, waiting for your next move. Will your run to the door and try to escape again? Will you jump on him and try to harm him or will you try to jump out the window? He couldn't help but feel exited for your next move.

The disappointed look on his face when you just stood there. Looking down at the floor and from time to time at him with a ugly look in your eyes. You hated him? But that's a strong feeling, wasn't it?

And your words were true. You started glowing, and soon your appearance slightly changed. Your clothes were back to your old rags, your make up gone and your hair freely on your back.

He waited, excited. He couldn't help but wet his lips with his tongue, gulping and pressing his palms against each other. You better transform or he'll do it for you.

He expected more. He thought he'll see something unseen before. A monster, or you at your worst. You got him overthinking that your previous appearance was all a lie, but now you got him to want to bully you for lying to him.

He got up, getting closer to the bed. He stood there before you, expressionless, before he pushed you in bed, making you fall on your back.

"I didn't know you were a liar."

"What do you mean? The spell broke."

"You look exactly the same." he was on top of you, caging you between him and the bed. "You look even better than before." he was strange, truly.

"I still want to go home." you'll try as much as you can. There must be something that will work on this guy.

"I don't want you to."

"And who are you to decide for me?" he didn't respond to your question, choosing to ignore it like most of your questions. Instead, he smashed his lips against yours, his craving for your touch far too loud to ignore it.

And then it hits you. If you distract him, and act all sweet, you might actually be able to fool him and run away.

So, your hands wrapped around his neck, dragging him closer to you. He looked shocked, and for a moment he just stood there.

"What?" you spit those words at him, annoyed. Even if you cooperate with him, your words can't help but show your true colors.

"Take your clothes off." you gasped.

"I'm not doing this before marriage." you said, not wanting to do more than kissing.

"Consider the ball tonight the wedding ceremony." you looked at him in disbelief. "I'll take them off if you don't want to." even worse.

"I never did this before." you said. Maybe he'll have a heart and try to understand your situation.

"It's definitely going to hurt." no encouragement words? What a dickhead.

"I'll do it myself, no need for you to do a thing." you got up the bed, your hands traveling here and there, taking your time while undressing.

He stood at the edge of the bed, watching your every move. You can run if you want, the door is open, and it would stay that way until he leaves that room. So, you can try as much as you want, it's entertaining watching you fail.

But you didn't run, instead, you did as he said. Taking your clothes off with shaking hands and biting off any bad words you wanted to say out loud.

"Come and help me too." he could only laugh at your expression. But you got closer to the bed, no protests. He better sleep with his eyes open tonight.

He placed his much bigger hand on top of yours, dragging it on him.

You had no idea what to do. You kept looking at his body, at his arms, at his big chest, his shoulders. "Try and undress me, not just with your eyes." he was too much.

You slowly took whatever you could off him, and he just looked at you the whole time.

Now, when both of you were naked, you just stood there in front of him. You couldn't help but stare. He had two cocks, not one but two. I mean, he haves two of everything, but you didn't expect for him to have two dicks as well.

"Close your mouth and stop staring." he laughed at your dumbfounded expression.

"I don't know what to do." he tapped the placed next to him with his palm.

"Lay down here." you layed down on the bed, waiting for what he planned on doing. "You have to open your legs more." isn't he asking for too much already? One of his hands traveled in between your legs. "Look at me." you was expecting everything but to feel something licking your clit. You gasped, and looked at his hand. It was just a hand but it didn't felt that way at all. He laughed again. "I told you to look at me. Don't think of things you can't understand." but you don't get it. You could feel a tongue, traveling between your folds, going up and down, playing with your pearl.

"What's that?" you asked out of breath, forgetting how to even breath for a moment.

"This?" he showed you his palm, which was having a mouth on it. Since when was it there? His hand went back between your legs, playing with your clit again, one of his other hands joining in, as you felt something at your entrance. "Keep your eyes on mine or I'll give you something to occupy yourself with." you had no idea what he was planning to do. With a quick move, he stood up, his dicks against your face. "You know what to do." you looked up at him, at his dumb grin and then at his friends that were right in your face. "Open your mouth." one of his thumbs was on your lips, pressed against it to make you open it and suck on it. He then moved his hand and took one of his cocks, giving it to you to do your thing.

You weren't trained to please him, but even so, he had some expectations from you.

You could do it. If others could, so can you. But look at you, who can't even take half of his fat cock into your mouth.

"Do good and I'll reward you." he said and added another finger inside your wet pussy. "See?" he said and curled his fingers. "Now get to work."

With your head pressed against his thigh, you wrapped a hand around one of his cocks, while trying to take the other in your mouth.

He let out a loud groan, making you unsure if you should continue or stop.

A promise is a promise, and he's true to his words. Since you're trying so hard to please him, he should return the favor. He kept curling his fingers, going in and out of you as his mouth kept playing with your pretty clit. He was touching all the good places, he knew that, and he didn't stopped a bit. Now determined to discover even more places and touch better than before.

Your walls started to clench around him, squeezing him so tight and making him wander how that will feel around his cock.

"You wanna cum? You better keep working then." his words made you try even harder, too desperate of that foreign feeling inside of you.

He kept moving his hands, and you kept trying to figure out what to do to him. But oh, you were so close that you couldn't think straight anymore. And it happened in a flash, your mind going blank and trembling under his touch as you came.

He kept his hands moving for a little longer before stopping, when you finally came to your senses.

"Now focus on me." his hands went away from you, now gripping your hair and pushing your head down his length. You tapped his thigh, too afraid you won't be able to breathe anymore. He moved your head, sometimes he moved his own hips, and soon, he was going to cum too. "Don't let spill anything. Swallow." he said before cumming down your throat.

This was more than enough. You didn't had the strength to go further than this.

Intimacy can be too tiring. And he looked like he enjoys sucking the energy out of you.

"We're not done yet." not yet? What more does he wants from you?

He got on top of you, positioning between your legs. Two of his arms places next to you, while one held your hips. With his only free hand left, he held one of his cocks at your entrance, rubbing his head against your pussy. Getting his head inside your cunt, then drag it out to rub it between your folds, rubbing it against your clit. Then back at your warm entrance again, slowly getting his head inside, just to get out and then again.

He was playing with you. He was enjoying seeing you mad.

But this time, when he got his tip inside of you, he kept pushing, going deeper and deeper. And he didn't stopped until he got inside all the way in.

Warm, wet and hugging him just right. He loved it. He could stay inside of you forever.

His face got closer to yours, looking at you and at the way you were struggling to fit him in. But he been so attentive to you, and you can't even fit him in.

Slowly, he moved his hips, in and out at a calm pace. It gave you all the time you needed understand how you managed to fit him in. And it also gave him time to understand how painfully slow this was.

His revenge was going to wait a lot before he fucks you properly.

He wanted to rearrange your inside for the way you left him, but now he had no option but to wait.

He's going crazy. He's dying in your arms and you're not doing anything. You're not talking to him, you're not looking at him.

He grabbed your cheeks, pushing them together and making your lips come forward.

"What?" you tried to say.

He kissed you, making you wrap your arms around him as he kept moving his hips.

This was better, when you held him in your arms was so much better. It made this fire inside of him calm down and let him realize the situation he's in.

One of his hands went between your bodies, softly rubbing your clit as he kept moving, making your bodies slightly rock together.

His tongue inside your mouth, his movement was so sloppy, not having a proper rhythms but keep increasing the force he kept slamming into you with.

The first orgams pulled out of you with force, him not giving you a moment to breath and keep going for it until he filled your warm walls with his hot cum.

But when you thought it was over, it never was.

He got out of you, giving you a break for a moment before you felt him back between your legs, this time a lot more bigger. He had both of his dicks in his hand, now trying to push them inside of your pussy to fill you up.

"It won't fit." you said, trying to stop him from this madness.

"Take a deep breath." he said before finally managing to get inside.

He was going to kill you, because this was too much. The way he split you open, being stretched out like never before. And he kept moving his hips too, like the fact that you still haven't accommodate to this strange feeling meant nothing to him.

It hurted, but at the same time, the way he kept you open felt good. And you hate to admit it but you might cum just from this alone.

His hips kept moving, and this weird feeling started to feel so much better. It went to the point where you started crying, too much for you to handle.

"Shh. You can take it." he said, a hand moving some hair away from your face.

He liked those hot tears that were falling from your eyes. It made him wander why he didn't try to make you cry a lot earlier.

Can you even come again? He can't help but wander. Guess he haves to find that out himself.

Pounding into you, keeping you wrapped in his arms and not giving you a break. He managed to make you cum again, now focused on the way your squeezing him again. And just like last time, he painted your insides white, this time getting you fuller than last time.

But it's not over, because he haves to try this again, but from another position.

You didn't managed to last too long and fell asleep in his arms, the next day waking all alone in there.

You wasted no time in putting your clothes back on and running out that room, down the stairs and back into that hallway. Being welcomed with a close door that was blocking your way out. Now having no choice but go back to that room and wait for him to arrive back. Who knows what he's planning to do this time.

Author'a note: I was planning on making Gojo and Geto the step brothers but then it would have because their fan fic. I might write something similar to this but for them. Dunno tho, I'm too lazy to do it.

[buckyshoneybunny]

Spooky Secrets & Sweet Treats

College!Quarterback!Bucky Barnes + Curvy!College!Reader 

Summary- You and the gang decorate for Halloween and host a Halloween party. During which a heated argument starts up between you and Bucky, revealing some hidden truths. Will these new truths lead to a new relationship and a fresh start between you two, or will it become worse than before? 

W.C.- 3653 

Warnings- Smut, unprotected sex, poorly written smut

A/N- Hi! I really hope you guys like this, I honestly don’t know how to feel about this, like I love it but I also hate it lol. The picture above is roughly what the living room looks like, I designed it myself on a designing website. The other pictures aren’t mine. This will be part one of a series. Part two will be for Thanksgiving and part 3 Christmas, and so on. Not proof read. The back story I used is my own sooo yeah. Anyway, hope you enjoy! Oh and happy Halloween!!  

Masterlist  Series Masterlist

Having not eaten all day, your stomach rumbled in protest. You sat in the middle row of the lecture hall, Nat on one side, Yelena on the other. This was the last class of the day, your ADHD medicine wearing off causing you to be even more impatient. Your right leg bounced mindlessly under the table; Natasha placed her hand on your knee with a warning glance. You stop and mumble out an apology.   

You couldn’t help it honestly, today was Halloween, not your favorite holiday but still. You were sizzling with excitement. You, Natasha and Yelena (your roommate's), Nat’s boyfriend Steve and his two friends Sam and Bucky, were coming over after class. The guys would be making the food while you girls set out the decorations and got everything ready. That’s right, you were having a Halloween party!  

You were never one for parties, not that you didn’t like them you just weren’t ever invited in high school. No one wanted the shy girl at their party. But since meeting Nat and Lena you’ve grown more confident, you were still shy, that was just who you are, but you’re a little more outgoing than you once were.  

There was just one tiny problem, Bucky. You loathed that man, and according to him the feeling was mutual. Every little thing he did annoyed you, he made sure he went out of his way just to piss you off. With his stupid, cocky smirk, sparkling white teeth, gorgeous shoulder length, chocolate brown locks that he let grow out since meeting you. Even those shirts that seem three sizes too small, showing off his delicious abs that you just wanted to li- 

Stop that! 

You mentally climbed out of that rabbit hole, not wanting to go too deep. No matter how much you wanted to get a taste of the star quarterback, you hated each other and that was all it was ever going to be. 

After what you’re sure is another 20 minutes, the professor finally dismisses everyone. You quickly gather your things and dart out the lecture hall, Natasha and Yelena hot on your heels.   

Shivering as you stepped outside, you wrapped your jacket tighter around you, the cool autumn breeze blew about. Fall colored leaves littered the sidewalk, crunching under your feet. 

You smiled. You loved fall and winter, everything just seemed happier. Holidays back-to-back, Halloween, Thanksgiving, and Christmas. You loved Christmas. The sparkle of Christmas lights, curling up on the couch wrapped in a blanket watching Christmas movies, you just loved it.   

The party started at nine, so you had roughly five and a half hours to get the supplies, set everything up, and get ready yourselves.  

“You excited?” Nat asks, drawing you away from your thoughts. You three walking to your house on the far end of the campus. It was a two story, three bedrooms, two bath house. Nat and Lena’s parents were rich, having some sort of high-end job in the government.  

“Duh,” you laugh.  

“Even though he’s going to be there?” Yelena pipes up. You sigh. 

“I’m determined to not let him get to me; I am going to have a good time tonight.” 

“You say that every time,” Nat snickers.  

“Yeah well, I mean it this time, he’s not ruining this party for me,” you defend.  

“You say that too,” Yelena giggles. 

“Say what?” The annoying voice you know too well asks before you can say anything. Turning around you find Bucky, Steve, and Sam following you guys. Steve wraps an arm around Nat, kissing her forehead. Sam ruffles Yelena’s hair.   

Clad in his signature black leather jacket, the six-foot something wall of muscle wore blue jeans, red henley under the jacket, and his combat boots. This isn’t fair, why does he have to look so hot? His hair pulled into a small bun at the base of his neck. 

“Nothing James,” you roll your eyes. You could see the tick in his jaw, he hated being called by his first name. 

 “Come on, princess,” he spits bitterly. “Keeping secrets from me now?” You just huff and keep walking in the direction of your house.  

Princess. That name made your blood boil, you despised it, and he knew it too. It wasn’t the name that bothered you really, just the way he said it, like you were some spoiled brat. You most definitely weren’t. You didn’t even know why he called you that, but that was the name he’d given you the night you first met. 

You weaved your way through the mass of people, trying to reach the kitchen. Natasha had dragged you to this party, claiming it was way past due to meet the gang. Yelena wasn’t any help, going right along with Nat’s plans. When one sister had her mind set to something, the other backed her up and to say they were a force to be reconned with was an understatement. 

Before you could reach the kitchen, you smacked right into a wall, or what you thought was a wall until two strong, veiny hands shot out to steady you before you could fall. Looking up you see a pair of steel blue eyes boring into yours. The man had a sharp, clean shaved jaw, his brown hair short and fluffy, and stuck up in all different directions. His full, pink lips moved, saying something you didn’t quite catch. You realized you had been staring for too long. 

“What?” You ask loud enough over the music.  

He chuckles. “I said, are you alright, ...?”  

“Oh! I’m Y/N, and yes, I’m fine. Thanks for catching me,” you smile. “And you are?” 

His smile falls. “Bucky,” he says gruffly. “Watch where you’re going next time, princess,” he spits out bitterly before expertly weaving through the crowd.  

You stood there confused for a moment, wondering what the hell happened. Natasha told you to give him some time and he’d warm up to you. To everyone’s surprise, he never did. 

Your shoulders relaxed as you breathed a contented sigh as you stepped inside your shared home. A fireplace with shelves lined on either side. When you moved in Nat and Yelena let you decorate, you had taken interior design in high school so you knew how to make certain things work. A light grey couch sat in the center, with a coffee table in front of it, and a TV mounted on the wall above the fireplace.  

Nat let you take the lead, directing everyone. She knew how your OCD and ADHD could get, especially when it comes to planning things like this, everything had to be a certain way. Bucky rolled his eyes and mumbled some smart remark under his breath. Once everyone was assigned a job you all got to work.  

Steve and Sam went to the store, Bucky started to chop firewood to help keep the house warm-you liked using that rather than the heater, made it cozier, plus it saved money. Nat and Yelena worked on getting the Halloween decorates out of the shed. You did a quick clean, making room for the foldable tables Steve and Sam were getting. You scolded Bucky when he tracked mud through the house, to which he flipped you off.  

Once the boys got back and the decorations were all set up and tables put up, everyone got ready. Natasha and Steve dressed up as superheroes, Sam as a Falcon, ever the nerd he is. Yelena dressed up as a vampire, Bucky was, well you didn’t know what he was. All you knew was he’s half naked and making your panties sticky.  

And last but not least, you dressed up as a bunny, well sort of. You wore a soft pink short cotton skirt with a bunny tail, a matching cotton crop, and bunny ears. Steve painted on a bunny nose. You were very unsure of the outfit at first, but Nat and Yelena, both assured you that your curves look delicious in that outfit.  

Once everyone was dressed Steve and Sam fired up the grill to start cooking, Nat and Yelena setting out the condiments and other various food items. Bucky got the fire going, having paused to help Steve and Sam set the tables up when they got back. You added a few finishing touches to the decorations, moving a few things, stuff like that. You idly wondered why Bucky was so quiet, usually he’d have you clawing your eyes out by now.  

But Bucky was in his own little world. He leaned back on his haunches once the fire was set. He glanced over at you, taking in your outfit. His tight ripped jeans did nothing to hide the effect it had on him. He'd seen you glance at his bare chest multiple times by now, he didn’t have a costume in mind. He just threw on some old, tight, ripped black jeans, if anyone asked what he was he’d think of something.  

He watched as you moved a few decorations, a pout on your soft pink lips. Your brows were furrowed in a frown, he wanted to reach out and smooth it with his thumb. He shook his head to try and clear those thoughts, looking away before you could catch him.  

Yes, he hated you, but that didn’t mean that your curves didn’t make his cock throb and his head fuzzy. The way you looked in those heels, how they made you sexy legs look long and soft. But you were this self-entitled princess who always had to have her way, it pissed him off, everyone loved you. Even your creative writing professor you guys had seemed to adore you, it made his blood boil that you were the teacher's pet. 

If only he knew. 

He remembers how you had him all figured out before you guys even met.  

Bucky scanned through the crowd of people in his house. He, Steve, and Sam threw a celebration party for winning last night's game. Steve had invited his girlfriend, which she invited her sister and their roommate.  

He was quite excited to meet this gorgeous angel Natasha always talked about. He spotted Natasha and Yelena; the third girl had her back to him. He could only assume the third girl was you, your soft Y/H/C pulled into a braid. The blue jeans you wore hugged your thighs, your tank top hugging your chest and curves. 

He smirked, you really were gorgeous. As he walked closer, he could hear your honeyed voice. He frowned when he heard what you were saying. 

“I don’t see how I could like someone like him,” you tell Nat. “He’s probably some fuckboy like every other football player. Some jerk with a high ego.”  

Your tone sounded disgusted; he huffed a breath. Any excitement he had for meeting you was long gone. He was so fucking tired of people associating him with the stereotypical quarterback. He wasn’t a fuckboy, far from it.  

He'd only been with a few women, contrary to what everyone believed. He didn’t fuck them and leave, no, his ma raised him better than that. He took them out, treated them right, the perfect gentlemen. He was dedicated to any and all his relationships, they just never seemed to work out.  

So, when he ran into you later that night, literally, he put up the wall that he hides behind and brushed you off.  

A couple of hours later the party is in full swing, people dancing, music blaring. You step out on the back patio, needing a break from the noise and people. You sit in one of the outside chairs, looking at the stars. You mentally scold yourself for not bringing a jacket as you shiver. You feel fuzzy as the whiskey you’d been drinking takes effect. 

A few minutes later a sweaty Bucky opens the sliding glass door. He pauses when he sees you. He huffs and closes the door, taking a deep breath of fresh air. You turn away from him, ignoring his presence. You hear the door open a couple of times before you feel a warm leather jacket being set over your shoulders.   

The jacket smells of leather and pine, mixed with something else, Bucky. You turn your head to see the man himself standing behind you.  

“I don’t need your stupid jacket, James,” you huff and move to slide said jacket off. He places his big hands on your shoulders, keeping the jacket in place.  

“Can you for once stop being a fucking brat and just take the goddamn jacket?” He snaps, feed up with your constant attitude.  

You shove his hands off you and stand up. “What the hell is your problem?!” You yell, finally at your breaking point.  

“My problem?!” He yells back. “My problem is you’re a self-entitled brat who always gets what she wants. Who thinks she knows everyone, well news flash princess, you don’t.”  

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”  

“You making assumptions about me before you even get to know me.” You give him a confused look so he continues. “That night at the party you told Nat how you couldn’t ever like someone like me, how I’m an egoistic fuckboy. I'm so fucking tired of people making assumptions.”  

Guilt settles into bones; you hadn’t realized he heard you. “Oh, Bucky I’m so-”  

“No, you know what?” He continues, cutting you off. “You’re the one with the high ego, everything just has to be your way, doesn’t it? This has to go there, that over there. Everything has to be perfect for little miss sunshine.”  

“Wh-” 

“No, you’re gonna shut the fuck up for once and listen to me. And it’s not just that, you always get what you want, everyone fucking babies you and adores you. Even the fucking professors love you. I mean it’s pretty obvious you’re a teacher’s pet-” 

“Enough!” You yell, your voice breaking. He goes quiet, panting from his rant.  

“I’m not the teacher’s pet, she checks up on me to make sure I’m okay. After she read my memoir for our memoir assignments, she started to check up on me. Making sure I was safe where I’m at, if I had a trusted adult to talk too.” 

“Awe, did the princess have a few bad memories that she wrote about? Hmm? Well news flash princess everyone has bad memories, that doesn’t excuse that you always get what you want.”  

“You know what, fine! You wanna know why I am the way I am?” You yell. “Growing up I didn’t have a fucking say in anything! I was treated like a piece of property; my own father called me his property! I did everything for them, I was 14! 14 and if I didn’t cook or clean no one would.” Your voice breaks. 

Bucky goes to say something but you keep going. “My own grandmother got my entire family to hate me and I was only 3, it took years for them to finally figure the truth out. My father would guilt trip me, manipulate me. I took care of my mother at her lowest, watched her on the verge of death and she still favors my brother. Nothing I ever did was good enough! I could go on forever about how fucked up everything was, James.” 

Bucky stands there in shock. “Wow...I um...” He doesn’t know what to say. 

“I’m sorry for judging you before I got to know you, I really am. But do not call me a brat and say I always get what I want.”  

You take a deep breath to calm your racing heart. Both of you stand there in silence, filled with guilt at how you’ve both been acting.  

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. You nod. 

“Me too,” you whisper back. 

Neither one of you knows who moves first, but one moment you’re looking each other in the eye and the next Bucky has his tongue tangled with yours. He tastes of beer and cake, you moan softly, Bucky swallows the sound like it’s the sweetest thing he’s ever had. 

His hands, both metal and flesh, grip your ass and pull you closer. His hard bulge grinds against your naval, he groans. When the need for air gets too great, Bucky pulls back and starts to litter your neck with sloppy wet kisses.  

“My room,” you shudder. “Now.” 

“So fucking bossy,” he grumbles. He throws you over his shoulder and goes back inside. No body pays any attention to either of you, too busy dancing or too drunk to care. He takes the stair two at a time.  

You get bold and slide your hands into his jeans, groping his bare ass, he had gone commando. He slaps your ass in retaliation, causing you to yelp. He finally reaches your bedroom, kicking the door shut and tossing you on the bed. You slide up the bed, shoving the pile of stuffed animals onto the floor as you go. Bucky kicks his boots off and climbs on top of you.  

Bucky attaches his lips to your neck, sucking and biting. You moan and pull the hairband out of his hair, tangling your fingers in the soft strands of hair. You tug and he groans, you tug harder and he bites down hard.  

He kisses down your collar bone to your chest, yanking the crop top off you and groaning when he sees you aren’t wearing a bra. He takes one nipple in his mouth, sucking and nipping as it hardens. You let out a high-pitched whine, the pain mixing with pleasure. His metal hand kneads the other, causing you to shiver at the temperature difference. He switches, giving them both the same treatment.  

Once he’s had his fill, he starts to kiss down your stomach, hands groping your thighs.  

“These fucking thighs,” he grumbles. “You have any idea how many times I thought of these gorgeous, thick thighs. Fuck.” He’s thought of you? 

He pulls your skirt down your legs, tossing it somewhere behind him. He gently undoes the straps on your heels and slides them off. He slides his hands up your thighs, one hot and one cold, he spreads them and groans. He leans forward and licks at your clit through the fabric of your panties, moaning at the taste of your juices.  

“Bucky!” You gasp and grip his hair.  

“So fucking good,” he mumbles, mouthing at your pussy. He grips your ass, holding you up and shoving his face into your pussy even more. The fabric gets wetter, a combination of your juices and his saliva.  

You whine his name and tug his hair, pulling him back up to kiss him, moaning at the taste of your juices on his tongue.  

It’s a mess of messy kisses and fumbled movements as Bucky kicks off his jeans and socks, pausing to grind his cock against your panties. Your eyes widen when you see him, he chuckles and tells you not to worry, he’ll fit.  

“Bucky please,” you whine.  

“I know, baby, I know,” he presses a kiss to your cheek. “I gotta prep you first.” 

He rips your panties off, flinging the ruined fabric to the other side of the room. He reaches down with his flesh hand, spreading you slick over your clit before carefully inserting one finger.  

You moan and wiggle your hips, impatient. He flicks your thigh and tells you to be patient. He adds a second finger, then a third. He slowly opens you up, teasing and torturing you, rubbing that spot that makes you see stars.  

Two can play this game.  

You reach down and grab his aching cock, thumbing the slit and spreading the precum that’s gathered there. Bucky moans and bucks his hips, cursing.  

“Bucky please, I’m ready. Just fuck me already.”  

He grunts and pulls his fingers out, sucking them clean. “I’m clean but I have a condom in my wallet.” 

You shake your head. “I’m clean and on birth control.”  

“Fuck yes,” he groans. He flips you over, making you face down, ass up. “This fucking juicy ass.” He slaps your ass a couple of time, groping the juicy flesh hard.  

“Please,” you whine and push back against him.  

Finally, he takes pity on you and lines himself up. He slides all the way in on one thrust, both of you moaning. He gives you a moment to adjust before setting a brutal pace. 

He angles his thrusts just right and you don’t think you’ve ever been fucked this good in your whole life. He leans down, plastering his sweat slicked chest to your back and kisses your shoulder and neck.  

You make little noises with every thrust, fueling Bucky, his own groans and grunts right next to your ear.  

“So fucking tight, shit,” he moans into your shoulder. He reaches down and starts to rub tight circles over your clit and you cry out.  

“Fuck! Bucky please!” 

“Can feel you squeezing me, baby. You gonna cum? Hmm?”  

“Yes! Please! I’m so close!” You moan. 

“Cum.” His thrusts turn even more punishing, if possible, focusing on that spot. Your thighs start to shake. His perfect thrusts and the pressure on your clit push you over the edge. Your eyes roll back, hands griping the sheets so tight they could rip.  

Bucky's pace stutters, you clenching his so tight he cums seconds after you do. He collapses on top of you, both of you trembling and panting.  

He rolls off you to the side, pulling the sheets over you both and spooning you from behind. You both succumb to sleep minutes later, too exhausted to talk about what just happened. 

______ 

The morning sun shines through your blinds, the birds chirp outside your window. You groan and roll over, not wanting to get up just yet. You reach out for Bucky, only to find cold sheets.  

Bucky was gone. 

[freakyformula]

hola matilda ❤️ i really live the first night headcannon with lando 🤭 if your request is open and if it is not too much, can i please request for something similar with lewis? but maybe about their honeymoon?? thank youu

Hi, I'm glad you liked it! I don't typically do requests but your suggestion is way too good to ignore...

Honeymooners part 1

Summary: You'd been together for 5 years, you and Lewis. And finally, you tie the knot. But you've made a promise that you're scared to fulfill...

Warnings: 18+, smutty, fluffy, kinda angsty at times, mentions of miscarriage and abusive relationships, fingering, oral (both receiving).

Word count: 5,8k

"I, Lewis, take you, Y/N, to be my wife. I promise to be true to you in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health. I will love you and honour you all the days of my life."

"I now pronounce Lewis and Y/N, husband and wife. Sir, you may kiss the bride." The officiant smiles.

Lewis, who had been looking at you intensely under the whole ceremony, not letting you out of his sight, licking his lips, shifting his weight between his legs, now crashes into you, giving you the sweetest kiss you'd ever received.

Your whole life flashes before your eyes and you couldn't quite work out how you got this lucky. You hear the guests cheering in the background but for now, it's just you and him. Your very own Lewis.

When you part, Lewis looks away at his parents, knowing that both his mothers would be crying, and he was right, both of them held a neatly folded tissue in their hands, wiping the edge of their eyes every few seconds. Lewis' dad, Anthony, on the other hand, stood there, proud as ever, giving you both a reassuring nod.

You're given a final blessing by the officiant, while the guests leave the church.

"Y/N, Lewis. Let's do a couple of photographs here." The photographer mentions as she helps you into the poses she wants you in and starts clicking away. You're looking you at him while he holds you, and you can't help breaking out into laughter.

"What?!" He laughs with you.

You turn away from the photographer, with him following. "You've never looked more handsome, sir." Your words make his cock twitch in his pants.

His head turns around to the photographer to check if she's at a comfortable distance before he leans down to you. "Ooooh, dear. I'm gonna make you call me sir for the rest of my life." He says, his voice shushed so the photographer won't hear.

"Good, I think I'm happy with that!" She smiles at you both and walks off with hurried steps.

"Do you think we scared her away?" Lewis looks down at your smaller figure, giving you a wide smile.

You offer Lewis a mischievous smile as an answer, him knowing that you would have scared her away in order to get some alone time with your man if he didn't.

"So, Mrs. Hamilton... How does that feel? Me calling you Hamilton?" He huffs, surprised by the way those words rolled off his tongue himself.

"I'm so happy, Lewis." You whisper as you take a step closer to him, pressing yourself against him, and him holding you in place, not breaking eye contact.

That feeling hits you again, the feeling of no one else being there with you, it's as if you're in your own bubble of love; pulsing, burning. "Shall we?" Lewis interrupts your thoughts.

"Yeah." You smile, and he grabs your hand, giving it a squeeze.

As you walk down the cathedral aisle with Lewis leading the way, you can't help but admire him. He looked stunning, dressed superbly, and his custom-made suit suited him like a glove. He must have noticed you staring because he pulls you in and places his hand on your hip.

"You okay, love?" He asks. God, that nickname made you weak. "Yeah, yeah." You try to sound confident and assuring, but the words come out weak. He nods as an answer, and when you exit the big wooden doors, the visitors toss rice and flower petals at you. Even if you were aware of the tradition, you are startled. Lewis yields and willingly stands in his spot while grains of rice wash over him.

You cover your head instinctively and Lewis seems to notice, pulling you closer. You snuggle into his armpit, smelling his cologne. The smell of his shoots a wave of delight down to the pit of your stomach, reminding you of what was to happen on your honeymoon.

You both knew that you wanted your first time to be during your honeymoon. You'd been adamant on waiting when you and Lewis first started dating and Lewis wasn't the one to push, it was the other way around, just because he knew your wishes. He would be the one to disengage whenever your makeout sessions got too heated.

You greet your families and friends warmly, all of them smiling widely and complementing you on how good you look.

"Congratulations, you both!" Your mother exclaims while wiping a tear with a tissue. Lewis shakes hands with your father and makes small talk. Your father and Lewis had a special bond, he knew Lewis was the right man for you after the first time they met, 4 years ago.

"She needs someone like you." He said at the time, and you were sure he would agree with his words now too.

"Oh, my baby!" Your father coos as he walks up to you. "You look so beautiful, but you always do." He rambles while hugging you tightly.

You direct your guests to the venue to continue the festivities. Your dad had loaned out his original Beetle he drove when your mother and he got married. It felt sentimental getting into it and driving off, knowing that your parents sat in it at some point, celebrating their marriage.

When Lewis starts the car and drives away, he maintains his hand in your hands while you fumble with his fingers nervously. This continues until Lewis grabs a hold of your hands with his bigger hand, which brings you back to a state of peace. You shoot him a look, you know he noticed but he deliberately chose not to look your way.

"It's okay, Y/N. No need to be nervous." He finally says as he languidly strokes your hands with his thumb.

You take a deep breath. Breathe. You really had no need to be nervous, but you hated being the centre of attention. Luckily, it was only for one night.

You are taken aback when you arrive at the location, which is a stunning garden that is brimming with roses and lilies and features a greenhouse in the centre of the area. You had been on a visit here a couple of months ago, but you did not recall it being quite as spectacular as it is now.

Lewis helps you out of the car, and you see the rest of the guests starting to arrive. As the guests get seated at their designated places, you take some more pictures in the garden. The day was warm, but not enough to make you sweat and the sun kept disappearing behind clouds only to come back with its warm rays.

"You're looking immaculate." Lewis whispers, making you blush. You swat him playfully, making you, him, and the photographer laugh.

The inside of the venue was beautifully decorated with fresh flowers from the garden, living candles on the tables, and string lights hanging from the roof as the only light source, making it incredibly cosy.

As both of you get seated, the wedding planner announced the schedule for the night; First, food. Then, cutting the cake, and last but not least, a toast. After that, the guests were free to party all they wanted, but you and Lewis had other plans.

The food was made by one of the best restaurants Lewis knew of, offering both vegan and meat options in the buffet.

"Do you like it?" Lewis asks, sounding genuinely concerned if you like the food or not.

"Best food I've ever had." You admit as Lewis strokes your back, his hand sliding lower and lower.

The cuisine was genuinely extraordinary, and you had to resist the impulse to overeat in order to leave room for the dessert. Dinner came and went, and the guests ate to their hearts' content, complementing the meal.

Every time you glanced over to Lewis, you catch him staring, but he would simply shrug his shoulders. "What, you can't really blame me, I'm sat next to the most beautiful woman in the world after all."

You huff, "Sweet talker...", before you lean in and give his cheek a kiss, earning a chuckle from him. He turns his head, looking straight into your eyes. You don't dare to move, you're locked in place as he leans in closer to you, your lips only a few millimeters apart. "I can't wait until tonight, sweetheart... The things I want to do to you, I can't even say out loud." His words make your stomach twist, and you almost choke on the cider you were sipping.

"I'm concidering this foreplay, Lewis. Starting off already?" You tease.

"Gotta get you ready, baby..." He coos before he closes the gap and catches your lips in a tender kiss.

"Y/N, Lewis, time to cut the cake!" The planner announces.

The cake cutter is vibrating in your hand as you hold it. All of the guests were bunching up next to your and Lewis to catch a glimpse of the precious moment. Lewis notices the way you're shaking, and places a comforting arm around your shoulder.

Lewis couldn't help smiling at you and smearing a bit of the frosting on your nose, just to have an excuse to lick it off.

The cake, a vegan coconut cake, was even better than the food. You thanked yourself for saving some space for it.

"Ladies, gentlemen. I'd like to propose a toast to my beautiful wife, Y/N..." Lewis starts. "Y/N, you are the love of my life. You renewed my faith in true love, and I feel so honoured to be your man. I will do everything in my power to make you happy. I love you." He concludes as he looks over at you with sincerity in his eyes.

You can hear the rest of the crowd murmuring in the background, but you're focused on him. You can feel yourself getting choked up and quickly grab a tissue to wipe away the tears that are threatening to ruin your makeup.

"To Y/N." Lewis raises his glass with the rest of the crowd.

"Also, Y/N and I regret to inform you that we will be leaving in a moment. We haven't told any of you but we're travelling to Italy tonight." Lewis admits, followed by protests from both of your parents, them pleading you to reconsider.

You and Lewis had a couple of destinations planned for your honeymoon, first off; Milano. After that, the Maldives, and lastly, Cancun, Mexico.

You knew they wouldn't approve of your plan to depart early, which is precisely why you had kept it a secret. However, they soon understood that they couldn't force you to change your opinion and let you go. You hurriedly snapped pictures with the visitors and bid them farewell, giving each person a hug and a kiss.

You quickly changed into a sundress that you would be travelling in and grabbed your things, your phone, lip balm, and your wallet and put them into your purse.

When you got outside, a man in a suit was waiting for you. He led you and Lewis, who was holding you tightly, to the black SUV. As soon as you got in, Lewis' hand was on your thigh, carefully pulling on it like he wanted you to move closer to him without saying so. You weren't even at the plane yet and Lewis was already seemingly desperate to have you. You spend the trip to the airport in silence, with the driver saying a few words now and again.

Lewis wasn't the one to waste the planet's resources but if he was ever going to use a private plane, it was on his wedding night. As you stepped outside, you gasped. You had no idea of his plans to travel private. As you step inside into the grand aircraft, you gasp even louder. It was luxurious, with wide seats, and was even equipped with a bed.

"I thought we'd spend our first night as newlyweds comfortable..." Lewis whispers in your ear as the flight attendants introduce themselves.

"Thank you, that will be all." Lewis cuts the flight attendants off and closes the door.

"Lewis..." You warn.

"Yeah?"

"That was rude."

"I want you all to myself, is that bad?" Lewis asks.

"You have the rest of your life to spend with me."

"That's not enough though. I want forever." He quickly counters.

You sit down in a seat. Lewis is frozen to where he is standing, staring you down, processing the situation, perhaps working out a plan for how to get you in the mood. He really was needy, you could see the lust in his eyes, and you notice the bulge in his pants that he was trying to hide.

As the plane finally takes off and you get to unfasten your seatbelts, Lewis walks over to the bed and collapses on it.

"Sweetheart, come here, I miss you already!" Lewis whines.

You groan and get up, walking over to the ridiculously large and plush bed. When you get to the edge of the bed, he sits up and before you can react, he has pulled you down on the bed with him.

He supports himself on his elbow and looks down at you, making you slightly blush. You hide your face in your hands, but Lewis is quick to grab them and give your pink cheek a kiss, making you blush even further. Sure, you were used to Lewis being touchy and sweet but this was a new level.

"Shit, love, you're gorgeous like this. Under me." He whispers as his lips brush past your ear. His movements are slow and deliberate as he moves on top of you.

"Lewis..." You moan.

"Shhh, baby, we have to be quiet, remember?" He whispers as you cover your mouth, embarrassed. He chuckles and moves his hands down your chest, to your stomach, all the way to your hips. "Fuck, can't we?" He begs.

You trusted Lewis fully, it wasn't that. But you were unsure of how being intimate with Lewis would feel like to you.

In your youth, you had a boyfriend that didn't treat you right. He would abuse you physically, mentally, financially, and sexually. You found out that you were pregnant and at the time, you were overjoyed. He was not, though. He was enraged. He wanted to get rid of it but you refused. His solution? Kick you in the stomach until you miscarried. This event made you finally break up with him and place a restraining order. But that wasn't much of a solace when you just lost a baby you so dearly wanted.

Lewis knew of all of this, and he would comfort you whenever you needed him to, and that was why initially fell for him. The first night you spent together, about 5 years ago, you had a bad dream about the continuous kicks and blows to your body and Lewis woke up from you kicking and struggling. He didn't need to know why, he just pulled you closer and held you until the struggling stopped and you went back to a comfortable slumber.

And you didn't blame him, you had agreed that you would start being intimate when you got married. And now you were a married couple, so there was nothing wrong with him wanting you, but you were unsure how to express your sexuality. This was all new to you. With your ex, you didn't really get to communicate your needs and wants, meaning the things that you liked and wanted to try were left within yourself.

You answer him with a kiss, which he enthusiastically accepts. You grab his wandering hand as it travels a little too low for your liking. "What's wrong, love?" He asks worriedly. "Nothing, just..." You start, not knowing how to explain yourself or knowing how to even word yourself correctly.

You were desperate to start your love life with Lewis. But at the same time, a single thought was plaguing your mind.

What if you end up the same way again?

Which was ridiculous, because you knew Lewis and you knew he would never treat you the same way your ex did.

Lewis seems to notice your thoughts racing out of control and gives you a lengthy kiss on your forehead. "What is going through that pretty head of yours?" He asks.

"I don't know, Lewis, guess I'm just scared."

Lewis tuts. "Babe, there's nothing to be scared of. You know I will never hurt you, or do anything you're not okay with."

"I know, Lewis." You say, pulling him into your arms. "I really want to, you know."

"I know, darling, I know." He sighs. "What do you need me to do?"

"Nothing, Lewis, you're already doing enough." You whisper as you're pulling on his beard. You feel his hands wandering all over, and you feel your core growing wetter and wetter as he strokes your thighs and hips.

"Can I feel you?" He asks, and you nod shyly. He gives you a smile and sits up on his knees. His hands move under your dress, pulling it up in the process. Your thighs and clothed heat his exposed in the process. This was nothing new, you had seen each other naked before. But it still made you nervous, which Lewis noticed. "This is nothing I haven't seen before, remember?"

His hands move up with the dress exposing you even further. You pull it off with Lewis' help, leaving you in your lace bra and panties.

"Please, Lewis..." You plead.

"What do you need, babe?"

"Need... you."

Lewis stops what he's doing and looks at you with blown eyes. "Fuck."

He invites you into a sweet kiss which quickly deepens into a messy makeout session. His tongue licks your lips, hoping you will allow him access, and you do, you open your mouth willingly. His tongue enters and explores your mouth, touching you in places you thought he'd never touch.

As his hand moves over your underwear, you lean into his soft touch. His fingers grow bolder and brush over your mound and down to your heat.

"Oh god, you're drenched." He seems surprised, as if he didn't have the biggest influence on you. His fingers find their way to each side of you, slowly pulling your underwear down and exposing you fully in the process. You instinctively clench your thighs together.

"Don't be shy, let me see you." Lewis coos, moving his hands inside your thighs, softly spreading them. When he sees your glistening pussy, his breath hitches.

"Oh, baby... So wet for me already. Can I touch you?"

You don't answer, you don't feel the need. Instead, you take his hand and steer it to your heat. You take a moment to feel the wetness yourself, with Lewis. His fingers easily slide up to your clit and down to your hole, spreading your arousal.

"Are you this desperate for me?" He asks.

"I've been needing you since forever, Lewis, I thought you knew?" You tease.

"Does that mean you're ready to...? You're sure?" He asks, his voice wavering.

"I'm 100% sure. I want to try." You say as your hand moves down from his strong chest to his stomach, feeling his strong abs with your fingertips. Your hand continues travelling down to his crotch, where his growing member is already poking through his baggy jeans.

"No, Y/N. I want our first time to be special, not on a plane." He says as he grabs your hand. "But I wouldn't mind making you feel good..." He adds suggestively while teasing your entrance.

"Please, Lewis..." You whimper, pulling his hand closer. You gasp as his finger first enters you. "Shhh, relax." Lewis tries to comfort you. It didn't hurt, but the feeling of him inside of you after all those years surprised you.

He pulls his finger out and slides it in again. He scissors and pulls on you to stretch you out for him to add another finger. When he deems you ready, he adds another finger. The feeling makes you yelp, but the pain quickly subsides and turns into something more... Primal, in lack of a better word. All the matters at that moment is him and his fingers stretching you out. He begins to work you towards your first orgasm while you relax into his touch.

You had cummed before, but not by a man, but by your own hand. You would be surprised if Lewis actually managed to make you cum.

His hands are experienced. His fingers curl up towards your G-spot, which he managed to find within seconds while his other hand is pulling and rolling your nipple between his fingertips. You feel a warmth in your stomach that could only mean one thing; You were getting close. "How did yo..." You start, but he covers your mouth, shushing you, urging you to just relax and take it.

His hand stays put over your mouth as you get closer to your release, and you start breathing heavier which Lewis notices. He leans down to you, "remember, we need to stay quiet, can you do that for me?". You nod, looking deep into his beautiful brown eyes, and they smile down at you as an answer. "Good girl." He says.

When you feel yourself creeping dangerously close to release, you pull away from his tender touch. Lewis shoots over you quicker than ever and studies your face. You're scared, he can see that much.

"What's wrong, love?"

"I-I'm not sure. I guess I'm scared of showing you how dirty I am."

Your words made his heart weep. He wanted to rip the man that made you think this apart. He had no right to do this to you, to hurt you this way.

"Sweetheart... Me making you feel good doesn't make you dirty in any way. It's just natural to want to make the other person feel good."

His reassurance makes you relax again and you open your legs for him, while he rubs circles on your hips in a desperate attempt to soothe you. "Ready?" He asks.

"Yeah..." You confirm. And when he starts stimulating your inner walls again, you close your eyes shut, while gasping for air. You're so close at this point, but not quite getting over the edge. Just when you're about to give up and kick and scream in defeat, you feel his mouth on your clit, immediately sucking itself in place. As his tongue flickers on your clit, and the fingers pump your squelching pussy, you feel yourself getting even more aroused and without you being ready for it, you cum.

Lewis has his hand on your mouth quickly, and you bite down on his finger in order to not scream your lungs out. The feeling inside of you is overwhelming, and the fact that he didn't stop made it all worse, or better, depending on how you choose to perceive things.

"Jesus, Lewis!" You whisper while sounding somewhat angry.

"What, felt good didn't it?" He teases.

"Yeah..." You admit in defeat.

When you land in Milano, you quickly get off the plane and drive towards the resort you were set to stay at. At the check-in, Lewis holds you in his arms protectively, even though he sees two guards standing at the entrance. Lewis was like that, always making sure you were safe. You get the keys to your very own small cabin and start the walk down the street of the resort.

"I'm so tired." You complain.

"I've got you..." Lewis says as he picks up up into his strong arms.

You hum contently. "My hero."

You almost drift off to sleep as he carries you down the street to your cottage. It takes a while for Lewis to find the right one, but when he does, he opens the door, with you still in his arms. How he managed, you have no idea.

"Hey, we're here." Lewis whispers to you as you are awakened from your soft slumber. He lets you down carefully and you stumble back into his arms, fatigue taking over every cell in you.

"Let's get you to bed, love." He chuckles. He helps you undress and lays you down with care. He follows soon after, pulling you close. You don't notice though, as you're already drifting off to sleep.

"Love you, Y/N." You hear him whisper. You're too drowsy to answer, so you simply let out a hum.

You're awakened by birds chirping outside your window. You reach out to the other side of the bed, only to find it empty.

"Lewis?" You call out for your man.

You look around the room for him, with no luck. You sit up in the bed, and finally see the room you and Lewis have spent your first night as a wedded couple in. You get up from the canopy bed and call out for him again. You hear a "yeah?" from the bathroom, and before you have the chance to react, Lewis appears with a panicked expression. Seeing him made your heart swell, and when he sees you're okay, he walks towards you with a towel wrapped around his waist.

"Sorry love, took a shower and I didn't hear you call out at first."

He leans in and gives your forehead a morning kiss.

"I think I should shower too." You admit, feeling grimey from last nights flight, and not to mention the wedding itself.

"I wasn't finished, join me?" He pleads. You nod and follow him into the bathroom. Lewis helps you undress your tee and underwear he had helped you put on the night before. When the cool water hits your skin, you can't help but gasp. The coolness descends into your heart which is pleasant, and calming. You hear Lewis stepping inside and you turn around to face him, only to find him shining like a sun, smiling wider than you had ever seen him smile.

"What's got you in such a good mood today?" You ask.

He takes a small step closer, closing the gap and pressing himself against you. You feel his morning erection against your stomach and you take a step back to look at the spectacle. When you see his length, you cross your arms in nervousness. No way that was going to fit in you. "Lewis... That thing is never going to fit." You admit.

Lewis chuckles, "we'll make it fit."

You gulp, and reach out to touch it. You had to remind yourself that this was nothing new, you had seen and touched him before. When your fingers reach around him, he sighs contently and closes his eyes, making you look up, worried that you had done something wrong. The sudden lack of movement on your part makes him look down at you again.

"Feels so good, baby... Keep going."

And so you do. The feeling of your small hands around him drives him close faster than you can register. When his hands shoot up to yours, you stop. "Slow down, love, I'm about to cum already."

You decide to not use your hands. You give him a questioning look as you get down on your knees, never breaking eye contact. "Y/N, you don't have to-" He starts.

"But I want to." You respond before he has the chance to finish his sentence. You look down at the length and grab his member, taking his pulsing tip into your mouth. You close your lips around him, while you hear him hiss, as he grasps the handle to the shower door to steady himself.

He deserved this, he really did, everything he'd done for you... You couldn't begin to describe your gratitude towards him. You wanted to thank him and give back for what he did to you last night.

The more you take of him into your mouth, the longer the pauses between his breaths get. The profanities that exit his usually sweet-talking mouth surprise you and you look up at him with his cock in your mouth, locking eyes with him. The sight of you with him in your gape pushes him over the edge, and he quickly pulls you off him. You release him with a pop and stick your tongue out, remembering what he said the night before, you're not dirty, it's natural. You feel warm splurts of his cum landing on your face and in your mouth and Lewis groans at the sight of you taking it for him.

Lewis slides down to sits next to you, both of you out of breath, but very happy and content simultaneously.

Lewis and you finish up your shower, with Lewis helping you shampoo your hair, and insisting on scrubbing your body clean.

After breakfast, you go out to see a bit of Milano, before taking off to the next destination; The Maldives.

When you get to the airport, the private plane is already waiting for you to arrive. The flight attendants are the same as yesterday; hopefully, they were unaware of your activities the night before. When you're seated and ready, the plane takes off.

The flight is long, but you finally make it to your destination early in the morning. When you step outside on the smaller airport, the sea air hits you. You find your guide that takes you to your bungalow.

"So for how long are you planning on staying again?" He asks.

"7 days, we're honeymooning." Lewis answers.

The guide answers by nodding, and you continue your journey.

"Here we are. Your very own, private house. No neighbours closeby." The man says as you all look around.

It was in the middle of nowhere. Where the hell had Lewis taken you? But as soon as you saw the interior of the house, you change your mind. It was beautiful, and even had a pool in the back garden. This place was ideal, and calm. Perfect for you two.

When the guide leaves and you're left alone, Lewis walks up to you. "What do you think?"

"I love it, Lewis!" You try to contain your excitement as you jump up and down in his arms.

"I thought this would make you relax..." He whispers... His hand moving a strand of hair off your face, making you freeze. "So beautiful." He coos while brushing your nose with his lips.

"Lewis..." You warn, him tearing down your walls faster than you can even react. You stay like that, in what feels like the embrace of the earth, and you're being swallowed whole.

He guides you outside, towards the blue water, and you willingly follow. His shorts drop, along with his underwear. You giggle nervously as he finally tears off his tee, and walks out into the water. When he turns around to face you, he smiles, "Come on, love!" with his member swinging freely between his legs.

You're standing on the white sand, watching as he's dipping his head into the water and relishing in the warm hold of the water. The thought of skinny dipping made your insides tingle, "ah, fuck it" you whisper to yourself as you unbutton your denim shorts. Lewis won't let you out of sight as you undress, and he can feel himself growing hard.

When your toes touch the water, you are surprised by how warm it feels. The warmness completely envelops you and you melt into it. Then, you feel Lewis' arms holding you up and you collapse into his chest. "One, two, three!" He counts as he dips you under the water playfully, wetting your hair. When you make it above the surface again, you gasp for air and burst out laughing. "You fuck!" You yell as you spit out the water from your mouth.

As revenge, you splash him with your hands, and Lewis, with his sharp reflexes, avoids the incoming water.

You spend hours in the water; playing, kissing, and turning innocent touches into something else. Something more heated.

When you get up, you're both famished and exhausted. As Lewis is busy preparing dinner, you sit on the sofa overlooking the blue horizon, the indian ocean. Lewis insisted on cooking dinner himself. He knew how tired you were after travelling all night. When you get up, you walk past the large bookcase and the books in it catches your eye. Shakespeare, Tolkien, Nabokov, Fitzgerald... Impressive, you think to yourself.

"Find something you like? Maybe you can read something to me later?" Lewis asks.

"It's like a mini library... It has everything." You say absent-mindedly.

Lewis chuckles and continues cooking while you choose a book for later. Why does your mind decide on Dante? You have no idea. He does not seem like the right kind of author to decide on when you're on a honeymoon. But it felt right, and the book, Inferno, didn't let you down. It was comical; Lewis and you burst out laughing a couple of times as you got past the introduction. You must have read for 2 hours, before you dozed off, nestled up to Lewis.

He lifts your light body up and carries you to the softness of the bed, and tucks you in for the night. He spends a while just taking your beauty in. A tear escapes, and he is quick to brush it off his face. He is afraid of failing; failing you, your marriage, and your unity. You are awakened by his sobs. You are swiftly next to him to comfort him.

"I'm so sorry, love. Didn't mean to wake you up." He cries. You do not answer. You wrap your arms around his neck and hold him, pulling him down next to you. And you fall asleep like that, with Lewis snuggled into your chest and your arms around him.

The rest of your time in the Maldives is spent swimming, sun bathing (including a nasty sunburn...), lots of cuddles and kisses, and stolen glances.

But nothing happens. Both you and Lewis seem too scared to even bring it up. Sure, you touch each other and you spend each night pleasuring one another. But the next step... Never comes.

"Lewis..." You speak on the last night in your cozy bungalow, before you're departing to Mexico, your last destination. "Why haven't we done it yet?"

"What?" He asks absent-mindedly as he is scrolling away on Instagram. When you don't reply, he puts away his phone, looking up at you. He sighs and thinks of a way to say what is on his mind. "I... I want to wait for the right time, Y/N. I don't want our first time to be rushed."

"But I'm ready..." You say as you reach out for him. He takes you into his arms and holds you until you fall asleep, not letting go.

[bandgie]

So Sharp You Won't Feel a Thing | Ep. 6

MASTERLIST | Kink: Orgy

🗝 The Others are too much, too obsessed with keeping you on their side. They beg and do everything in their power, but you can't leave everything you know to stay in The Other World forever...can you?

3.6k words

warnings! MDNI18+, fem!reader, DUBIOUS, reader does say stop once from overstim, restrained (f!), orgy, PIV, no protection, throat-fucking, handjobs, oral (f!), thats all I feel like putting

notes! last ep, I'm so happy. this took a lot of planning and I was thinking of how to end it, but I think I like how it turned out. let me know your thoughts of the event! thank you so much for reading. feedback/reblogs are much appreciated!

They’ve moved you to the kitchen which is ironically fitting. With how their hands and mouths devour you, it’s safe to assume you’re the main course.

Everyone has their buttons on you as you’re laid upon the dinner table, legs spread and pushed to your face for what feels like forever. Minho keeps your ankles apart by pressing on the underside of your thighs. He stands above you, upside down so his cock is in your face.

It feels exposing to have you spread so indecently with them here. Minho, Felix, Seungmin, and Jeongin all watch as Hyunjin slips his cock in with ease. His dull fingernails dig into your sides as if this is the first time he’s been inside, which couldn’t be further from the truth.

Seungmin hadn’t wasted any time on calling the Others, leaving you in a state of shock from the revealing of your kidnapping. Everything happened so slowly and so fast; Felix’s joyful clapping, Minho’s and Jeongin’s matching smug smile, and Hyunjin’s eager expression. Their chatter was white noise even in moving rooms.

The prodding of Hyunjin’s cock snapped you out of it. He was eager, drooling out of his pretty mouth, and slapping the head of his cock on your flaps. Your legs had kicked from overstimulation, but Minho was quick to restrain them.

“Noo,” Hyunjin whined, high-pitched and almost heartbroken. “Don’t do that. Everyone got a taste of your pussy. It’s not fair that I didn’t.”

But it’s been more than a taste. You’re drowning in your own pleasure, gasping and moaning against the underside of Minho’s dick.

You can’t lift your head, but you can guess the sight. You can feel the cream sliding down your ass, the throbbing of your clit, the gushing of your pussy every time he rams back in. There’s not a doubt that you’re swollen and pink pink pink, but the Others can’t seem to look away.

“Look at that pussy. You’re breaking it.”

“If she took it up the ass, she can take it there.”

“Yeah. It’s just one cock. She has about five more to go.”

They all laugh. Even Hyunjin smiles, lips twisted in pleasure as you whine at their words. Their near threats. It feels like your stomach has turned into a puddle of arousal with every thrust. Each time you think you can’t come again, you do. But the constant pounding makes the building overwhelming.

“Nghhh. Waiitt. T-too much. Pleaseee.”

Your arms feel heavy, but there’s enough strength in them to try and grab at Hyunjin. You manage to graze his wrists before Jeongin grabs a hold of your hand with your other being held by Seungmin. 

You might not have gotten him to stop, but your plan succeeds in another way. 

“Huh? T-too much?” Hyunjin sounds worried. “Am I hurting you?” He’s the weakest link, you've learned. Too sweet for his own good. You almost cry in relief when he slows, but it’s short-lived. 

“No, hyung. You aren’t. It just means that she wants kisses.” Jeongin soothes. “Kisses always make everything better.”

Hyunjin nods, too fucked-out to really understand but agrees anyway. His hips begin to pick up their pace again and you cry out. It doesn’t hurt per se, but it is too good to bear. You open your mouth to plead with Hyunjin, but words never make it when Minho presses his tip between your lips to shut you up.

“Mmf!”

His taste is musky and slightly salty. Minho’s cock smoothly glides on your tongue, down until he can see the head poking through your throat.

“Fuck. That’s it. Good kitty.” He rubs his thumb where his tip presses, making you gag. Being upside down makes his cock press deeper. There’s nowhere to turn when he shoves the remaining inches in, balls touching your nose.

He stills. Minho lets you convulse around his cock to get used to his size. When your neck turns pink, he slides out. You can feel how your throat twitches against his shaft. Your tongue sticks out of your mouth when he’s fully out, gasping for air. 

Then he does it all over again.

You’re too busy being fucked in two holes to feel Seungmin and Jeongin wrap your fingers around their cocks. Their warmth registers when they thrust into your makeshift fist. The veiny textures of their cocks have you gripping tighter.

Jeongin grunts from the pressure. He thrusts at a much faster pace than Seungmin who opts to rock. He wants to feel how each finger strokes him. There’s no need for spit or lube for your questionable handjobs. They both leak enough pre-cum to coat your palm and shine their tips. 

“Mmm. Yeah. Yeah. Good slut for us, aren’t ‘ya?” Jeongin wraps both his hands around yours. It’s like your fist is a fleshlight and in a way, your entire body is. The expanding of your throat, the bend of your wrists, and the squelching of your cunt. Everything about your state is absolutely debauched.

Knowing how you look makes the pleasure heightened. Your breasts bounce from Hyunjin's pistons, forcing your throat to take Minho deeper until your eyes roll back. Your limbs are loose, but the men using your hands to tug their cocks hardly mind. But if you come again, you know you’ll break.

Felix, quiet and waiting, can’t help but fall in love with your depravity. So good, so pretty. Cum leaks from his tip, oozing on the floor. The soft padder of his feet goes unnoticed as he stands beside Hyunjin, looking in absolute awe at the stretch between your legs. 

You notice him when little fingers rub your clit. Minho pulls out to hear you squeal, finally lifting your head to see Hyunjin and Felix standing at the other end, beautifully terrifying.

Felix’s finger taps your nub in quick patterns. It’s such a light touch, but it has you squeezing on Hyunjin’s cock. The blonde man giggles gleefully, smiling ear-to-ear when his hyung groans in response. 

Seungmin’s free hand tangles in your hair. You think he’s going to lay you back down and have you swallow Minho’s cock, but he keeps your head up instead. You watch as Felix lowers himself, moving his hand to replace them with his lips. 

“How about them kisses, yeah?”

You let out a drawled moan when you feel his hot mouth. Hyunjin slows just enough to prevent himself from hitting Felix, but his pace is still relentless. It blends together madly.

You’re whining and wiggling your hips in an attempt to escape them. But Minho’s firm grip on your thighs makes the attempts worthless.

Tears brim your eyes. “Fuck! Please! I’m being good. I’m being so good. I can’t- I can’t…”

Felix swirls his tongue deliciously on your clit. It catches the nub in his mouth, pulling on the flesh until it stretches. Your thighs tremble, ass and cunt clenching desperately. Salvia begins to pool at the corner of your mouth. 

“You can’t?” Felix hums with your clit between his lips. He lets it go with a crude pop. Your body relaxes and drops back down on the table, Seungmin’s hand stays under your head to keep it still while Minho rubs his tip on your swollen lips.

“But you have to. Hyunjin got a taste. I only tasted it on Minho-hyung’s fingers. I haven’t been able to get you out of my head since.”

You couldn't argue if you wanted to. Minho’s cock feels soft on your mouth, lolling your tongue out and taking him back in. 

Hyunjin must feel the change in your cunt. You feel softer. Warmer. Wetter. It almost hurts how hard you’re gushing from them using every part of your body, but Hyunjin relishes it. His thrusts grow erratic, his breathing labored as he chases the heat of your pussy. 

The bruising tip knocks on your cervix. You already have a cock down your throat, but it feels as though they’ll be two soon. 

Felix’s tongue finds home on your lips again. It slips low enough to taste your arousal, Hyunjin's cock rubbing against it. His face might be getting squished, but he can taste you here. Raw and unfiltered. 

He swipes the cream up your slit. The drag feels slow, a stark difference to your tongue licking Minho’s cock. You find yourself copying his movements unconsciously. The swipe of your tongue matches his when Felix lavishes your clit. Even with your muffled squealing, you rub your tongue over Minho’s slit. 

They grunt. Jeongin and Seungmin who are left with nothing but your hand still manage to twitch in your hold. You don’t mean to grip them so tight. There’s just too much in your mouth and cunt that you need to hold onto something.

Your entire body jolts up and down, side to side from how they use you. It’s like they’re planning on cumming together. 

“Look at that. I wonder if I can see my cum shoot down her throat like this.” Minho sighs dreamily. His cock is too deep for your tongue to do more than lay on the underside, but even then, you try to swipe it back and forth. 

Jeongin tilts his head, hair sticking to his forehead to see your neck bulge from his hyung’s size. It affects him more than he thought. The stretch of Minho’s cock down your throat, the bounce of your tits, and your sputtering when Minho mercifully gives you time to breathe.

One of your hands is being fucked harder than the other. Jeongin grabs onto your breast with his unused hand for purchase, squeezing the nipple Seungmin abused what felt like hours ago now.

“Fuuuck. I’m cumming.” Droplets of cum ooze from his slit. “I’m cumming. I’m cumming.”

Those droplets soon turn into ropes. Strings of Jeongin’s arousal shoot out, landing on the table and some on the floor. He pulls his sensitive cock from your hold and squeezes the base. Final spurts burst onto your breast, warm and wet. 

It’s like a butterfly effect. Seungmin‘s knees buckle when his orgasm pours out. He mimics Jeongin and pulls your hand off, but he jerks himself to completion so white cream decorates your other tit.

Seungmin slaps the tip on your nipple, sprinkles of cum shooting out and reaching your neck. 

“Mmm, shit. Your tits are so messy.” The two of them glide their leaking cocks on your breasts, slowly coming down from their high.

Hyunjin nearly topples over you. The sight of your soaked tits and the men’s rubbing cocks is too much. It’s the final push he needs to go over the edge. 

Much rougher than he anticipated, Hyunjin yanks Felix off your clit to push his hips deep. You hear a low groan of pain, a high-pitched wail of pleasure, and you feel the sputtering of Hyunjin’s cock soon after. 

His release coats your walls. The twitching of his cock has you clenching around him, painfully and desperately trying to squeeze the last orgasm out of you. 

You’ll cry if you cum again. You’ve been holding out for so long that it would all be in vain just to finish now. But Minho isn’t letting you get a chance to breathe. The lack of oxygen makes your brain fuzzy and the warmth of Hyunjin’s cum is just too good. 

Clear fluids shoot from your core. It’s so much that it forces Hyunjin's cock out, hips thrusting when you’re empty. You gag around Minho to use your free, cum-soaked hands to push at his thighs. He doesn’t want to pull out, but the veins popping from your neck are almost worrisome. Minho huffs when he slides his cock from between your lips. 

You cough and choke. The sounds are twisted with your moans and whines. You look at the space between your legs to see Hyunjin’s abdomen completely drenched. Felix’s face is worse off, but his buttons shine in amazement. 

“Oh- oh my god. F-fuck! hngg. Mmm…” Your eyes roll back. Your body trembles, legs shaking in Minho’s annoying grip. You hear someone praise, another laugh, but it’s the tongue on your clit that catches your attention. 

Felix. “Nonono. Stop! Pleasepleaseplease. I came. I just came. No more!”

You twist in Minho’s grasp. Jeongin and Seungmin hold your arms down when you reach for Felix’s hair. 

It hurts so good. Your hard nub gets lavished by Felix’s tongue, rough and quick. You squirm your hips in feelable attempts but Hyunjin holds your lower half for Felix to keep eating. 

“Pleeasseee. I-” you hiccup. “I can’t breathe. Too much. It’s too much!”

He flattens his tongue so it runs up your slit. You feel him start at your entrance and slide along your folds, the tip of his tongue flicking your clit. 

Your hips jolt. A squeal emits from your chest. There’s a brief pause before he does it again. It feels almost rougher than the last time. Felix laughs at your sobs, finally pulling away from your cunt and tapping his finger on your slit.

You vibrate.

“Haha! I think she’s gone now.”

Minho lets go of your legs. You didn’t notice how uncomfortable your back was, your spine finally flattening on the table. A groan of relief passes your swollen lips. You can feel Jeongin and Seungmin’s cum running down your breasts. Most of Hyunjin’s has been licked up by Felix, but you swear your cunt is still pooling with release. 

Bare feet softly echo in the kitchen. You’re too tired to focus your sight, but you can see Minho’s blurry figure walk to the other end of the table. 

No.

“You cleaned it all good for me, Felix?” Minho grins his roommate kneeling on the floor. “You know I love how you spread pussy with your tongue.”

Your chest caves with a broken cry. 

Felix giggles. “It’s been a long time since I have. You might have to test it out.”

The men chuckle. You don’t know how long you can keep doing this. The way they’re carving themselves into you feels like it might be permanent and you’re scared you may not ever want it removed. 

Still, you whine when Minho wraps your legs around his torso. You know he won't last long in your cunt. His cock is an angry red, tip leaking so much pre-cum it’s dribbling on your folds.

But you just can’t take anymore.

Clatter from the living room has everyone turning their heads. Light steps thud and you feel a sense of relief. 

And dread. That is, until you hear a familiar voice calling your name.

“B-Bin!” You shout for him. They’re still holding you down, but it doesn't stop you from wiggling. 

Tears sting your eyes. You can’t imagine what he’ll look like when he sees you like this. Confused, maybe. Angry, definitely. You’ll have to explain to him that it's not anything you don’t want, but you desperately need a break from it. 

But the footsteps that carry Changbin’s voice don’t match. He’s not rushing in. There’s not an ounce of worry in his steps as he grows closer.

“Where are you?”

“I’m right here!” Despite the worry, you can’t think about it too much. The heart in your chest feels as though it might burst from how hard it’s beating. It feels like an eternity before he enters the kitchen. 

But it’s not Changbin. Not at all. You reel back into Jeongin at the sight of Jisung. He stands in the entry, smiling so much that his top gums show and his eyes squint. 

“Found you.” Hearing Changbin’s voice come from Jisung's lips makes you shiver. You can handle buttons for eyes. You can handle talking cats and their attitude. But this…this is horrifying. 

You’re trembling so violently that Minho soothes your thighs by running his hands up and down. 

Jeongin’s nose scrunches in distaste. “I fucking hate when you do that. It’s creepy as shit.”

Jisung laughs, using his own voice now. He almost skips to you, but slowing down you shrink back into Jeongin more. His smile turns into a frown as he reaches out to touch you, brushing a stray hair from your face.

There’s so much running in your head. No one’s talking, but everything’s just sounds so loud. The blood drumming in your veins, the pounding of your heart, and the questions swirling in your mind.

“You- How did you- Why-” Breathe. “You sounded just like him.”

“Oldest trick in the book, baby. I can do a lot more than that.”

You’re almost grateful for the other men’s touches of comfort despite them doing what seemed like the opposite moments ago. “How? Who are you?”

His smile reappears. “What do you mean who am I? I’m your landlord!”

You shake your head. “No. You said your grandma-”

“I lied.” He says simply. “She died a while ago. But yes, it’s me that’s collecting your rent. It was also me who showed you the door.” Jisung sees your aghast expression. “Oh, don’t act so surprised. You said it yourself; I was stalking you. A little bit.”

“Pervert.” Minho mumbles.

Jisung scoffs. “I- I am not a pervert!” His hands point to every nude man in the room. “You guys are! Look at yourselves!” There’s an awkward shuffle in the kitchen as if they’ve been caught red-handed. Jisung huffs a final time and leans down to you, voice quiet. “They’ve been fucking you for so long, haven’t they?”

His hand gently runs down your neck, down the valley of your breasts, and stops at your stomach. “Poor baby didn't even get a break.”

You nearly whimper at his touch. Jisung fakes a pout that bursts into a grin, pecking your lips lightly. 

“Since you know everything, you should also know it was Hyunjin hogging her. I barely got my turn before you showed up.” Minho has a sarcastic tone but there’s a playful glint in his buttons.  

“Of course I know that. That’s why I showed up. You were gonna break her.” Jisung nuzzles his nose against yours. “After all, what kind of owner would I be if I didn’t take care of my things?”

Your disorganized thoughts finally settle to the time at the garden. You easily recall telling Jisung those exact words. Including when Jeongin revealed everything to you.

Let’s just say we made a deal with the devil.

“You…you’re the Beldom.”

Jisung’s eyebrows raise, eyes full of shock. “Y-yeah. I haven’t been called that in a long time. How do you know that word?”

Jeongin gulps. The swallow doesn’t go unnoticed by Jisung. He tuts and shakes his head, “First Seungmin, now you? Whatever. I’ll deal with it later.”

“But you,” Jisung winks in your direction. “I need an answer from you now.”

Confusion etches on your flushed face. “For what?”

“Well, if you wanna stay of course!” Jisung smiles wide. “I’ve been renting out this level for so long, but no one’s been a good candidate. But you…you and your friends…I think you’ll do just fine.”

The other men can sense your fear. Felix takes your hand in his, a small gesture to soothe you. “We know how you feel.”

“Yeah.” Hyunjin agrees. “We’ve been here.”

You already knew they were trapped by the Beldom, but the puzzles didn’t fit until now. The missing men. They’re them. 

“It doesn’t help when he does that freaky thing with his voice,” Jeongin grimaces. “But Han’s just socially awkward. You get used to it.”

“H-Hey! I thought it was funny!”

“The point is,” Minho says sternly, silencing the small chatter. “We want you here. Why would you want to waste your life away stressing out there? If you can afford rent or dinner? No one deserves to live like that.”

“We can keep you safe here.” You turn your head to Seungmin. “You don’t have to worry about anything. Han can do anything. He has done everything for us. Now he wants to do it for you too.”

Different pairs of hands caress your body. It doesn’t feel sexual, but comforting. They run over your breasts, between your legs, intertwining with your fingers, just touching you. They’re right, you haven’t been worrying about money and other trivial matters since meeting them. 

You think of Chan and Changbin and how stressed they’ve been. If they meet the Others here, they’ll be free from all of it too. Won’t they?

“You’ll…You’ll take all of us? Chan and Changbin too?”

Jisung nods, “It won’t be easy, but once they see their pretty little girlfriend on this Side, I don’t think it’ll be too hard to convince them.”

Shit, you’re considering it. You look around the room, locking eyes with every button peering down at you. Waiting. Hopeful.

With a deep breath, you look back at the Beldom. “You have to promise me, Han. That they’ll be here too.”

Jisung puts one hand over his heart and the other with the palm facing you. “Scouts honor. I’ve never failed. If I got Minho-hyung to be a part of my family, I know I can do your friends too.”

You briefly look at Minho. You don’t know why; maybe for a sign or a hint of regret in his burgundy buttons, but he grins instead. “I couldn’t leave Felix by himself.”

You must have nodded. You don’t know because you’re trembling so much, but judging from the smiles on everyone’s faces and Jisung’s clapping, you must have. 

An enormous bug comes from the living room, a platter held in its stick-for-hands. You can’t see the content from your shaky vision, but when Jisung holds the items in the air, you can see it clearly. 

Needle and thread.

“Now, what color would suit you best?”

[theereina]

Big Mama Pt. 5

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Plus Size Fem Black!OC

Wordcount: +7.4K 🤦🏽‍♀️

Warnings: MDNI (18+) mature content, such as cursing, teasing, heavily dialogue-centered, use of pet names (Daddy, Mama, lil' mama, pretty girl, good boy, etc.), angst, P in V, oral (female receiving), Dom!Terry, CNC (roleplay fantasy "r-word")

A/N: I don't know how many parts there will be. However, I'm open to critiques. I am a little 🤏🏽 sensitive about my writing. Please, don't be too harsh.🥺 Feel free to bring my attention to any typos. Divider by @firefly-graphics. Also, this work is not to be plagiarized or reposted (on any site other than here on Tumblr). I do NOT give consent for any form of republishing or rewriting.

Big Mama Pt. 1 => 🦋

Big Mama Pt. 2 => 🦋

Big Mama Pt. 3 => 🦋

Big Mama Pt. 4 => 🦋

6 months later ~ Halloween night

“Girl, why the fuck does this man have y'all stayin’ way the fuck out here?” Monica asked while driving. “That's the point. He knows I love the country. Plus, it so fuckin’ peaceful out here,” I said laughing. “’Vana, this is a serial killer's dream. Two black people in the middle of nowhere!” she blurted.

Tonight, we all went to a Halloween party as a group— Monica, Jordan, Terry, and I. The party was thrown at a warehouse downtown. It was fuckin' amazing. I had never had that much fun before. Terry even seemed to really enjoy himself, but he got sick at some point. He let me know that he was leaving early. I offered to go with him, but he declined. After he left, I tried my best to have fun but couldn't stop worrying about him. He wasn't answering my calls or texts which was strange.

I leaned over while sitting in the car. I unstrapped my heels and pulled them off. I was wearing a sexy schoolgirl costume that left nothing to the imagination. We agreed to dress up as a couple with Terry being a nerdy school professor. Our costumes made much more sense when we stood near each other, so I spent most of the night by his side.

Monica drove down the gravel driveway of the large farmhouse. Pulling to the front porch, I realized all the lights were off. It was eerily quiet— almost too quiet. Terry must have actually been sick if he had gone to bed this early. Monica's car came to a stop. She looked out into the field and stared at the barn. “This really is some serial killer type shit!” she said shaking her head. “Shut up!” I said laughing at her remarks. Monica was definitely on edge.

“I'm so done with you,” I said grabbing my heels before getting out of the car. “Just call me or text me. I wanna make sure you're safe. This shit so creepy,” she said scrunching up her nose and looking around. “Okay, scaredy cat,” I said leaning back into the window tickling her neck. “Terry is big and all, but not Texas Chainsaw Massacre big. Be safe!” she said. “Goodnight, whore!” I yelled as I turned and started walking towards the porch. I walked up the steps with the heels swinging in my hand. The front door was left unlocked because Terry had the only key. I opened the door and walked in.

I looked around the open living room in search of Terry. “Terry, baby? Where are you?” I yelled as I turned towards the hallway. Before I could move, I saw something flash across the large floor-to-ceiling window in the living room. I couldn't tell if it was a light or a reflection. I stood there for a second to see if it would happen again. Nothing. I shrugged my shoulders and proceeded to walk up the stairs. I was approaching the master bedroom door when I noticed a stain on the floor. It was a puddle of dark liquid. I couldn't tell what it was, but it smelled metallic. I leaned over in front of the door and hovered over the puddle. It looked like— blood.

I leaned up and quickly backed away from the door. I dropped the heels and held my chest. I turned back towards the stairs. I instantly wanted to flee but realized I didn't know where Terry was. “Terry, please. If this is a joke, this a fuckin' sick one!” I yelled from the top of the stairs. I turned back to look at the bedroom door. What if he was in there hurt? Shit!

I slowly walked back up to the door. I placed my hand on the doorknob and turned it slowly. I opened the door slightly peeking around. “Terry,” I said whispering into the room, “I don't like this.” I walked into the room, staying close to the door. I walked towards the center of the room facing the bed. The master bathroom door was cracked open with the light on. There was a smaller puddle at the bottom of this door. I wasn't liking this at all. My anxiety was pushing my heart through my chest. Every breath was feeling like swallowing razor blades. I inched closer to the door as panic was setting in. What if Terry was on the other side of this door? What if he was hurt, what if he was dead?

As I approached the door, I noticed faint marks leading from the puddle and into the bathroom— drag marks. No! I tried my hardest to level my breathing. I placed my hand on the door and pushed it open slowly. I opened the door to find blood splatter all over the bathroom and the tub covered in it. I almost screamed but covered my mouth. I started to back out of the bathroom. My foot stepped into the puddle by the bathroom door, soaking the bottom of my stockings. Tears were starting now.

As I lifted my foot to remove the stockings, there was a loud thud at the bedroom window. I didn't want to look out, but I had to know if it was Terry. I slowly crossed the room. The window had no blinds just a sheer white curtain. I pushed the curtain open lightly to peek but hopefully not be seen. I looked out towards the field at the rear of the house. That's when I saw him— a man. He was holding an axe over his shoulder. He looked like a lumberjack. THIS WASN'T TERRY! I stumbled away from the window unsure of what I just saw. There was no way this was happening. We didn't come way out here for this shit! I slowly leaned back towards the window to look again. This time I didn't touch the curtains.

He was still there, but his head was tilted up facing the window this time. The axe was resting by his side. He slowly raised the axe and slung it onto his shoulder. I could see there was something in his other hand. Before I could investigate further, he pointed towards the window. He could see me! He raised his hand above his hand and slung whatever was in his hand at the window. I ducked behind the wall. The object hit the window with a splat.

I eased away from the window to see blood splatter dripping down. I backed up towards the bed while still facing the window. Holding my chest, I tried to sort out what was going on. Then, I heard the sound of heavy boots thumping on the back porch. He was closer now. That's when I remembered the backdoor couldn't be locked from the inside. Terry had told me this earlier that day. But if the door couldn't be locked, he could just—. Before I could finish my thoughts, I heard the backdoor open and slam against the wall. The last place I wanted to be was in the room he last saw me in because this would be the first place he searched.

So, I slipped out of the bedroom door and hid in the guest room. I could hear his footsteps hitting the stairs as I closed the door. The closer he got; the louder it became. He paused at the top of the stairs. I heard his footsteps lead towards the room I left. While holding my breath, I heard him slowly open and close the door. I instantly began weighing out all my options. I could hide here like the typical dumbass— under the bed, in the closet, or behind a door. Or, I could sneak and hide somewhere else before he sees me.

Fuck it! I was trying my luck with the second option.

I stood near the door and slowly opened it. Peeking out into the empty hallway towards the other room, I turned around and tried to close the door slowly so it didn't creak. I turned back around and began tip-toeing towards the top of the stairs. Before I could get far, I noticed the bathroom door in the hallway open. I had this odd feeling that I was being watched. I didn't want to look, but I was too afraid to make any sudden movements. I pressed my back against the railing while closely watching the opening and the bedroom door of the room I left.

As soon as I reached the banister, I felt a presence behind me. I was right! He had never gone into the bedroom. He rushed from the open bathroom, coming straight towards me. He tossed the axe to the opposite hand with ease. The mask he wore covered his head entirely, so I couldn't see his hair, face, or eyes. I tried to run away from him, but he managed to grab the back of my top. I yanked away from him, causing it to rip. I stumbled down the stairs with him close behind me.

I knew better than to run out the backdoor. There was nothing but acres of open fields. The kitchen wasn't an option either as it was in the back of the home. I ran towards the front door, leaping off the porch. I sprinted for the barn across from the house. It was far, but I had a better chance of finding a weapon to use. The barn door was open. There wasn't an ounce of light inside. Fuck it! It was too late to turn back now. I ran into the barn and hid behind a mountain of hay.

He was cocky. He didn't even run after me; he casually walked. He treated this like it was an everyday encounter. There wasn't an ounce of worry in his demeanor. His shoulders were squared, and his stance was wide. He stood at the barn entrance, searching for any signs of where I went. He knew I was in here.

He rolled his shoulders and neck. He swung the axe back and forth at his side. He turned around, facing the barn door. He walked to the side and pulled the handle for the door. He slid it across the entrance. He was sealing me inside. There was nowhere to run, but the other door. It was closed, but I only needed an opportunity to run and enough gap to squeeze through.

Walking to the corner, he pulled a metal chain across the bar on the door and locked it. Now, I was LOCKED in. I had to get to that back door. I looked around me, but there was nothing. Had I really gotten locked in here with nothing to defend myself?

I eased along the slide of the bales, trying not to make a sound. I was short enough to stay concealed as I moved. I made it to the other end of the barn before he made another move. He was at one end and I was at the other. I realized that I could go for the door. It didn't look too heavy for me to pull.

All I had to do was get to the door, push it open enough to slip through and run. That's it.

I stood as close as I could to the wall. I took a silent deep breath. I peeked around to make sure he was still on the opposite side. I slipped past the hay and ran for the door. I could see him turn to face me. I grabbed the handle and pulled it as hard as I could. It wouldn't budge. I tried to push it again and again. Nothing.

I turned around to see him walking towards me. Oh no! That's when I heard it— the sound of a chain. This door was locked from the outside. There was no way I had just done this. I kept pulling at the door. I flattened my back against it, turning to face him. He wasn't moving any closer. He stood in the middle of the barn with the axe over his shoulder. I knew for a fact that I couldn't outrun him. So, what do I do?

“Please, just leave me alone. My boyfriend's here somewhere!” I yelled holding my arms in front of my stomach. He barked out the most sinister laugh I had ever heard, before stopping abruptly and going silent. “He's dead, you dumb bitch! You didn't get that from the mess upstairs!” he yelled. The world around me began to spin. He had said the quiet part out loud. Terry was dead, and I just didn't want to believe it. “What? I gotta show you his body for you to believe me?” he said walking closer. “No!” I yelled. “No!” he yelled mocking me, “You sound fuckin' pathetic.” I was crying even harder now. No amount of breathwork or grounding would save me from this. I was about to die, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. “So, is this the part where you run again, huh? Save yourself the trouble, pretty girl. Just come here!” he said pointing in front of him using the axe. “Fuck… fuck you!” I said crying.

His body stiffened immediately. His hand gripped the handle of the axe tighter. “I said to c’mere. Right the fuck now!” he barked. I stood where I was frozen in fear. “If I gotta come getchu or you make me chase you, so help me God!” he spat. I pushed away from the door while slowly walking towards him. I had to try something.

As I moved closer to him, I shifted my path to the side of him. I didn't want to get close to him, but did I have a choice? I stopped a few feet from him so I was out of reach. “You do know that if I swing this fuckin' axe I can still hit you?” he said frankly. I looked between us. He was telling the truth. I wasn't stopping shit. If he wanted to get me, he still could. “Come on, pretty girl. Help me, help you. Stand right here,” he said in a calmer tone.

I still didn't move— I couldn't. No matter what I did right now? I was going to die anyway.

I looked down at my feet. “Is it the axe, baby girl? Tell me,” he said tilting his head. I looked up at the axe and trailed my eyes up to his face. I could sense that he was staring at me. “Look at me, lil’ mama!” he snapped. He seemed agitated with my antics, but I didn't know what to do. He was tall and appeared muscular. My short thick ass couldn't outrun him or fight him.

He waved the axe around wildly, slinging it away. It soared through the air and landed on the barn’s upper level. “See. I'm nice,” he said raising his hands. They were empty, but I wasn't stupid. I knew a man like this didn't need weapons when his hands could do damage and kill.

I wasn't any less scared, but oh well. I walked towards him slowly, holding my breath. Once I was in arm's reach, he grabbed my shirt by the knot in the front. It tore in half. He yanked it from my body, exposing my black push-up bra. I threw my hands up to cover my chest. He smacked my hand down. “Move your fuckin' hands!” he yelled, raising his hand as if he were about to hit me again. “I fuckin' dare you!” he grunted through gritted teeth. I dropped my hands by my side, waiting for whatever was coming. Why wasn't he doing anything?

“What do you really want?” I asked. I was tired of this sicko's games. “Does it fuckin' matter? It's not like you got anywhere to go,” he said laughing. He was faking his composure. He wasn't calm at all. His hands were flexing and his shoulders were tensing up by the second. Why did I let Terry talk me into coming out here?

“Arghhh… If you don't fuckin' move!” he yelled. Fear took over, causing me to take a step back. “You know what fuck that?” he said pulling out a pair of leather gloves from his back pocket. He pulled them over his hands and wiggled his fingers. His hands filled the gloves perfectly. He closed the gap between us in two quick steps. His chest was right in front of my face.

I dropped my head. There was no point in running. “Just do it already!” I yelled hitting him in the chest repeatedly. He stood there and took every hit. His body didn't move an inch. Nothing I was doing was even affecting this man. Angered because I was tired of being toyed with, I pushed him in his chest. He shifted a little. I pushed him again. He shifted back a little more. Before I could push him a third time, he grabbed my hands. He held my hands above my head. “Stupid girl. Was that fun for you? Aww, you're fighting the big bad man. How cute?” he said mocking me.

He released my arms. I looked down and rubbed my wrists. I was caught off guard by his hand wrapping around my throat. He lifted my body from the ground and pushed me against one of the posts on the barn. “If you ever put your fuckin' hands on me again, I'll snap your fuckin' neck! Understand?” he grumbled. His teeth were grinding, and his grip was tightening. “Yes!” I managed to squeal out. “That's what the fuck I thought!” he yelled, releasing his grip.

My body hit the ground with a thud. I held my neck. I was sure there was a mark or a bruise. I was leaning over on one side. He squatted down so that he was right in front of me. Reaching to touch my face, he stroked my cheek and wiped my tears. “You're too pretty to be cryin’, girl,” he said tilting his head to one side. He was just hovering over me stroking my cheek. It was as if he was in a trance. I took in a deep breath. He let his hand roam my body. First, he groped my breast. Then, he caressed my stomach. This didn't feel right. Why was he all of a sudden being so gentle— too gentle?

His hand went lower and stopped at the top of my skirt. He looked back up at me while his hand moved down to my thighs. He pushed my skirt up and began dragging his hand along my thighs. “Damn, I know he’ll miss this,” he said moving his hand up towards my pussy. I clamped my thighs shut. No way was he about to touch me there. His face shot up in my direction. One of his hands shot up and slapped me across the face. “Don’t fuckin’ try me!” he said grabbing my chin. Even though I couldn’t see his eyes, I could tell his gaze was locked on my face.

While still gripping my chin and focusing on my face, his hand began moving again. His hand stalled and rested on top of my pussy. He hooked his pointer and index fingers around the crotch of my panties, tugging them a little. He tore them off my body, and I screamed as the fabric scratched against my skin.

I kicked him in the chest as hard as I could. He grabbed my ankle and yanked me towards him. I tried to find something to grab onto, failing miserably. My palms burned from being pulled through the dirt. “Stop, or else!” he screamed, holding my legs down. “Fuck you! If you're going to do it, do it! Bitch!” I yelled slapping him across the face.

I turned over onto my stomach and began attempting to crawl away. He grabbed the back of my legs, pulling me back towards him. I managed to snatch one leg away. He leaned forward and jumped onto my back. His hands flew to the back of my head, pulling my hair so my back was flush to his chest. “Yell! Scream! Go ahead! Nobody can hear you, dumbass!” he said in my ear, yanking my head up. “Let me go!” I screamed.

I couldn't keep fighting him. As much as I didn't want to admit it, I knew only one of us would walk away from this, and it wouldn't be me. “You don't like living do you?” he said pushing me to the ground. My face hit the dirt. A metallic taste flooded my mouth— blood. I lifted my hand and wiped my mouth. I turned over, sitting on my butt. I pushed on my hands to get up. “Sit!” he screamed, knocking me back. I was tired of this shit. I wanted no part of this stupid ass game he was playing.

I pulled my knees into my chest and began crying. “Hell, nah! Shut the fuck up! The fuck is cryin’ gonna do?” he asked while grabbing the back of my head. He used his grip on my hair to pull me down before straddling me. “You know what? Maybe I was wrong. I like the way you look when you cry. Soft. Sweet. Defenseless. Scared. Yeah, I think I like this,” he said cupping my left breast. His hand wandered to my left bra strap. He pushed it down slowly before doing the same to the other side. “Take it off slowly. No need to rush. We got all night,” he said low. I didn't move. What was the point of doing what he said? Prolonging my ending life seemed futile.

He reached behind him and pulled out a hunter's knife. I stared at the blade, tensing up. I placed my hands on his chest, trying to push him away. He grabbed my hands in one of his and held them above my head. He twirled the knife in his hand before pressing it into the front of my neck. The adrenaline in my body was pumping, and my ears were ringing. “Just do it!” I yelled, sobbing. His focus shifted back to my face. I could almost see his features spread into a smile through the mask. “Okay!” he said laughing. I felt the knife leave my skin. The presence of the blade still lingering behind.

With a heavy heart, I closed my eyes. I waited and waited. Every breath seemed to bring me closer to my last. I felt his grip on my hands tighten but still nothing. What was he doing? I wanted to close my eyes but was too afraid of what I might see.

I felt the knife glide across my stomach. I felt the blade rest on the fabric between my bra cups.

rip

He sliced through the front of my bra and began making quick work of the straps as well. I opened my eyes to see him peeling the pieces from my body. My exposed nipples hardened from the crispness of the Autumn air. He raised the knife to my chest, sliding it across my nipples. The cold blade stimulated the sensitive buds. I squirmed underneath him. This was feeling— I don't know. Was I enjoying this, or was my fear driving me insane?

I moved my hands and twisted my wrists. “No,” I whimpered. “No? You sure, pretty girl? I bet if I rubbed my hand through that pussy of yours, she'd be sayin' something else! Wouldn't she?” he said putting the knife back behind him. “Just…,” I said trying to tug away again. It must have annoyed him because it earned me another slap to the face. “Quit the bullshit, baby! Let's see!” he said, placing his hands on the button of my skirt. He unbuttoned and unzipped it quickly. While grabbing both sides of the zipper, he easily tore the mini skirt in half. “Clean! I like that. You came prepared for me, huh?” he said rubbing the mound of my pussy. The fabric of his leather gloves was like ice against my skin. He scooted back on his knees a little so that he was straddling my thighs more than my waist. He stuffed his hand between my legs, palming my pussy. He cupped his hand, trailing it through my folds. He dragged his hand up and down my slit, grazing my clt each time.

I was shocked by what I saw when he pulled his hand out. Cum! What the hell was going on? “Oh! That's lovely,” he said bringing the wet glove closer to his face mask. He drew in a deep breath. “Now, I might not be the smartest man but that looks like arousal to me. Don't it?” he said bringing the glove to my face. “ Yes… no… I don't fuckin' know!” I yelled. “You might wanna admit it, baby. You like this, huh? You dirty slut!” he said stuffing his fingers into my mouth. I gagged at the force.

“Don't say shit! Just suck!” he said, leaning over me. His face was right in front of mine. I could feel the warmth of his breath through the mask. I opened my mouth wider, telling myself to just do it. I sucked on the glove lightly. “You can do better than that! Come on! The better you perform; the longer you may live. Make me proud,” he said, leaning up.

I sucked on the glove again— a little harder this time. He let his finger roam inside my mouth. I let my tongue slither around each finger, causing his dick to jump. I felt it move against my thigh. I looked down to see a tent growing in his jeans. Shit, it was big! Oh, no. I couldn't be thinking like this. What would Terry think of me?

“Don't worry you'll see it soon!” he said drawing my attention back to him. I realized that I had been unconsciously sucking on his fingers. He pulled the glove from my mouth and smeared my saliva all over my face and lips. “Sloppy. I like it!” he said, lightly tapping my cheek. “Imma let yo’ hands go. Don't do no stupid shit, okay?” he said. I nodded my head yes. What the fuck could I possibly do in this situation?

He released my hands. I instantly pulled them to my chest and began rubbing my wrists. “I'm sowwy. I shouldn't have been so rough when you're so soft and…” he said trailing his hands down my chest to cup both of my breasts. The material of the gloves felt smooth against my nipples, causing me to let out a soft moan. He broke from his trance and focused on my face again. I know he heard it. Why was I moaning from this? What the hell was going on with my body?

“Listen to me. If you promise to be nice, I'll let you live. Who knows maybe you can be my sex slave or something!” he chuckled deeply. “As if I have a choice,” I whispered turning my head. “Well, you're right about that. Shall we begin?” he asked clapping his hands. “Begin?” I asked confused. All I could see was his facial features shift under his mask. He was smiling— no he was grinning. A big sinister grin was spread across his face. He was about to enjoy whatever came next.

He lifted his hips and repositioned himself between my legs. He grabbed the back of my knees and pushed them up to my chest using one hand. With the other, he undid his belt buckle and pants. He didn't even care to pull them down completely. I watched as he grabbed his dick at the base. I immediately knew where this was going. I tried to push my legs back down, but even when using one hand he was stronger than me. He leaned over me and slapped his dick on my clit. It was heavy and hard as a brick. “Remember what I said. The better you perform…,” he said letting his thoughts trail off.

In one quick thrust, he was inside me— deep. My arms flew up trying to push his chest. “Don't do that!” he cooed. “Behave. I promise to make it worth your while,” he lulled, dodging my hands. It was like he didn't give a fuck about me fighting back. He was too focused on—. “Fine. Have it your way!” he barked.

He grabbed my hands and pinned them above my head. With his teeth, he snatched the glove from his other hand. He threw it behind him. I could feel his dick twitching inside me. He grabbed my neck and began pounding into me. I gasped for air. How was he switching back and forth like that? He was nice one second, then aggressive the next. This man was a fuckin’ psychopath.

His hips snapped into my ass. “If you want me to stop, stop me!” he laughed. I knew I couldn't. I had tried and tried again. “Come on! Do something!” he yelled in my face. I was done. My blood boiled and fear went out the window for a second. “Fuck you! Kiss my fat black ass!” I yelled pushing my thighs down as hard as I could. He falls back onto his hands. I used this as an opportunity to scramble away. “Arghhh, you stupid bitch! Tell me what’re you gonna do? Huh? You can't run. You can't hide. No one can hear you!” he yelled waving his arms around. Again, he was right. What the fuck could I do?

I sat there for a minute with my back turned away from him. I was on my knees crying into my hands. Each sob racked through my body. An idea jumped into my head— this would either kill me or save me. I didn't know what to do, but I did know what I had to do. ONE FINAL TRY.

I turned on my knees to face him. “So, you're saying that… if I… if I let you do it, you'll let me live?” I asked gasping for air in between sobs. “I'm a man of my word, love,” he said sweetly. I covered my body, waiting for his next move. “Fine! Just do it,” I said getting on my hands and knees and slowly crawling toward him. I was a few feet from him when he told me to stop. I looked up to see him twirling his finger. “Turn around. You're pretty and all, but I'm sick of your face,” he spat with disgust. I turned around and sat on my knees.

He climbed behind me. His presence alone swallowed my frame. I was a big girl, but that meant nothing right now. He pushed me forward. “Ass up, face down. Don't make me repeat myself!” he yelled smacking my ass. He was sitting between my knees with his hands by his side. I got on all fours in front of him. I heard him scoff and grunt. “Fix ya’ arch. If I gotta fix it, you're not gonna like it. Let's go!” he yelled.

I arched my back and pushed my ass into the air. Without realizing how close I was, my ass grazed his dick. He growled in response. I looked over my shoulder at him. “What the fuck did I say? I don't wanna see ya’ face. Turn around!” he yelled popping my ass again. I screamed out in pain.

“Oh, shut up! It didn't hurt!” he said laughing at me. I started to sit up, but he pushed me back down. “What you movin’ for? I'm just kiddin’,” he said playfully. This man was confusing the hell out of me. How did he expect me to react? There was nothing funny about this. I moved away from his hand before he could react. “Alright, damn! I'm sorry. You know what? No, I'm not. I'm sick of your shit, you disrespectful bitch! I’ve tried being nice to you, but you don't seem to give a fuck. Why should I?” he snapped while grabbing my hair. His other hand forced my ass to meet his hips. “We're gonna learn that attitudes don't work around here!” he said thrusting back inside of me. I could feel the thickness of his dick inside me. It was clear that this was turning him on.

I felt his hand slide up my back to my shoulder. He was pulling me back on him now. He was pounding into me like I was a sex doll. I could feel my pussy beginning to ache already. As if he could sense my discomfort, he paused. Letting go over my hair and shoulder, he placed both hands beside me. He was on top of me now. Fuck! I needed to get on my back.

He began to grind his hips into me slowly. What was he doing? He leaned over so that his mouth was near my ear. The mask was warm from his breath. “Better?” he asked seductively while fucking into me. It was as if his voice had changed, and lust had taken over. It wasn't raspy anymore. It was deep and soft— smooth like velvet. “Answer me. Is this better?” he asked, pulling his dick out to the tip. “Yes,” I moaned out. It was like I couldn't control it. It was starting to feel good. “Yeah, that's what I wanna hear,” he said, pushing his dick back in. He was kissing my cervix and bottoming out with every stroke. He was honestly fucking so well. I hated this. I wasn't supposed to enjoy this, but I couldn't help it. His dick felt amazing inside me. Every stroke felt like— love. How?

“That's right. Take it. You got it,” he said. My eyes started to roll in the back of my head as I could feel his dick swelling inside me. He leaned back up and grabbed my hips. The movement of his hips was slow and—. “Ahh, shit! Wait!” I said putting my arms out to the side. I flattened my body against the ground. I was yearning for something to grab. My hands dug into the dirt of the barn floor.

“Come on. I'm so close, baby. Fuck!” he said quickening his pace. His hips were snapping into me at this point. I could feel the gentle caress of his balls slapping my clit. “This pussy is mine!” he groaned, fisting the hair at the back of my head. He pressed my head into the floor.

As his hips shifted to pound down into me, he brought one leg up so that he was kneeling. My pussy began to clench around his dick. I could feel my climax approaching. The wetness of my pussy was working against me. He was sliding in and out of me with ease. My pussy was begging for a release. I needed to cum so that I could come to my senses.

His dick was throbbing inside of me. Oh, he was close, and I wanted him to c—. No, I didn't want that. I didn't want him to do that— not inside me, but it was TOO LATE! His hips snapped into my ass with force. He grabbed my hips and pulled me onto him. He held me there, releasing every ounce of his nut inside of me.

“Ahhh, fuck! That pussy was nice. Can I keep you?” he asked letting go of me. I let my body collapse onto the ground. “One more,” I said turning to face him. “What?” he asked confused. “I didn't finish. I wanna cum,” I said pouting. I needed him to trust me because I needed this plan to work. “Can't get enough, huh?” he said, pushing me on my back. I let my legs fall open so that he could see just how wet my pussy was. I needed him to lose focus.

“Oh, you nasty slut. You like this shit! Don't you?” he asked, slapping his dick on my clit. He rubbed his dick through the mixture of our cum that was spilling out of me. He sat his dick at my entrance. “Beg, bitch! You want it so bad. Beg for this dick!” he growled, holding his dick at the base. Pride was out the door at this point. There was no turning back. “Please, I need it. Make me cum. That's all I want. Just make me cum. You..,” I said but before I could finish he forced his dick inside of me. “Ahhh!” I said moaning out.

As much as I wanted to hate this, it felt so good. His dick was hitting every spot and scratching every itch. My pussy was creaming around him, and I was leaking like a faucet. He leaned over me, placing his hands on both sides of my head. I could hear our hips slamming into each other. I rubbed my hand up his chest. I grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him closer. I could feel every breath he took on my face.

He threw his head back in bliss. I was chasing two dragons at once— an orgasm and the key to my freedom. I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him in deeper. I could feel my orgasm approaching. “I'm about to nut!” I yelled, gripping the back of his head. I placed my head on his shoulder. I could see it. IT WAS RIGHT THERE! I let my orgasm take over and began clenching and unclenching my walls to push him into his. His strokes got sloppy, and his hips stiffened. He dropped his head on my shoulder, letting his weight fall onto me. This was it— my only chance.

I slid one of my hands down his back while keeping the other pressed to the back of his head. “Stay in me, please,” I begged. I didn't need him to move. As my hand got closer to his waistband, I felt it— the knife! I gripped the handle and pulled it from his waistband. I pulled my legs under me so that they were pressed against his chest and kicked him as hard as I could. Knife in hand, I jumped on him before he could react. Pressing the knife against his throat, I began to speak. “Tell me why I shouldn't?” I yelled. “Because…,” he said, struggling to find an answer. “Take off the mask!” I demanded. “What?” he asked. “You heard me! Bitch!” I yelled back, pressing the knife deeper into his neck. I could feel his heart racing. Wasn't shit funny to him now. “Aight, damn!” he yelled while slowly removing the mask. His hands tossed the mask away from us.

What a sight?! I leaned in closer, turning the blade on its side. “Any last words?!” I snarled. He lay there quietly. “None. Fine with me!” I said, fisting the knife. “I just hope you know how special you are, Mama. Oh, and my girlfriend gone kick yo’ ass!” he screamed.

“Terry!” I said pouting. He grabbed my face and pulled me in for a kiss. “All you had to do was keep acting scared. Dammit!” I said pushing away from him. I was straddling his waist with my arms folded across my chest going into full brat mode. “I'm sorry! You said the code word for ending the scene, Mama. How was I supposed to know you wanted to keep going?” he asked grabbing my chin. “You ruined the fun,” I said dropping my arms. “Did I though?” he asked taking one of my nipples into his mouth. “You still got one more in you?” he asked, releasing my nipple from his mouth. “How the fuck am I supposed to say no?” I asked leaning in to kiss him and dropping the knife.

He placed his arm around my waist and lifted my hips. He reached his hand between us, guiding his dick inside me. “Ouu, shit!” I moaned into his mouth. “Come on, Mama. You got it. Make Daddy proud!” he said smiling. I pushed him back onto the ground. “Here comes, Big Mama!” I yelled, giggling. I hopped onto my feet and started bouncing on his dick. My hips smashed down into his. I leaned over and began kissing his neck. “Let me have it, Mama. Let's go!” he yelled, smacking my ass. Terry let out the sweetest moan as his head dropped back. His eyes rolled into the back of his head.

Fuck, I couldn't help myself. Look at him. Eyes rolling. Toes curling. Moaning to the gods. Yeah, I did that! Me!

“You like that? Huh?” I asked, placing my hand on Terry's neck. I pressed down on the front of his throat. Terry's eyes shot open and his hand reached for mine. “Don't you fuckin' dare!” I said, slowing down my hips and gripping his dick with every grind. “Fuck!” Terry said letting his hands fall. “Nah, look at me. Ain't that what you said?” I taunted while gripping his neck even tighter. “Ahh, fuck. I love you!” he screamed out. “Yeah, I wanna hear that shit. Eyes on me!” I said, mocking him. His eyes opened slowly as his breathing became ragged. I could feel his heart racing under the palm of my hand. I held the grip on his neck with the other.

The sound of my ass colliding with his hips echoed through the barn. “Give me it, Daddy!” I said, releasing his neck. I sat up straight and began to ride Terry like the stallion he is. “Ahh, that's… oh, fuck! Here it comes!” Terry said, grabbing my hips and holding me in place. His hips froze as he squeezed my waist. I felt every drop of his cum paint the inside of my walls. I giggled into my hand and said, “Oh, I'm not done!”

Terry's face was overcome with shock. “You heard me,” I said, rocking my hips. “Fuck it. It's all you, Mama,” he said, collapsing backward. “Oh, I know!” I said cockily. That's when I noticed Terry was smirking. “You just don't know when to stop, huh?” he said grabbing my hips and lifting me off of him. He pushed my body over his chest so that my pussy was directly over his mouth. His tongue immediately found my clit. I was definitely about to cum from this. His mouth covered the sensitive bud as he sucked.

I felt his hands rubbing and squeezing my ass. I fell forward and began grinding against his face. I felt Terry's lips curl into a smile. “I'm about to cum,” I announced loudly. Terry popped my ass and held me down, encouraging me. His tongue slithered along my entrance. He was missing it on purpose, teasing me. I whined like a bitch. Moans were leaving my mouth repeatedly. His tongue finally found its way into my pussy. I clenched as I felt my orgasm approaching. “Ah, fuck!” I yelled, leaning up and straddling Terry's face. He removed his tongue and began sucking on my clit again. That's what did it. I came all over Terry. “Ugh… mmm. Fuck, Daddy!” I moaned through my orgasm. I could hear him laugh from underneath me. “Damn you!” I yelled, climbing off of Terry's face. “I love you, too. Mean ass!” he said. “I guess I love you,” I said, laughing while leaning over to kiss Terry’s lips.

Taglist: @brattyfics @avoidthings @cocooned-butterfly @5headsupremacist @creartivefairy @miyuhpapayuh @megamindsecretlair @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @nayaxwrites @jimmybutlrr @lovey-3 @curvyambitions @deja-r @hoouno06 @insidefeelingofanadult @slutsareteacherstoo @ariiijestertheklown

@armandosbabymama @gg-trini @skyesthebomb @blowmymbackout @blackerthings @mymindisneverhere @iburias @androgynousgaz @becauseimswagman1 @geee3bayyybeee3 @gwenda-fav @poektiou624 @keyaho

@pocketsizedpanther @sageispunk @charismablu @4ftwonder @ineedmyaccountback @rebelrel0987 @4pfsukuna @writingsbytee @nayaesworld

@blyffe @helloncrocs @amyhennessyhouse @beenathembo @thiccc-c @babybratzmaraj @pinkpantheris

@qtmkenedy03 @honeytoffee @talkswithdesi

[vividxpages]

"mine"

Jacaerys Velaryon x fem!Reader

a/n: yeah..........I have nothing to say to my defense. This is me coping after that photoshoot drop. we've all seen it, you know what's up.

🌹

Your boyfriend had the prettiest moans you ever heard in your life. And god, how fun it was to make him sing.

Right now, you were seated very comfortably, your legs spread and wound tightly around Jacaery's waist as you sat on top of him. The lacy fabric of your bra pressed against his naked chest as you arched against him, gasping as the friction between your bodies hit just right.

The bathrobe he had emerged in from the steamy bathroom pooled around him and his dark hair was soft and silky between your fingers. Your heated breaths mingled ever so often and while he couldn't tear his eyes away from you, you could not decide where you wanted to look first.

It could've been a soft and adoring moment between you and him if you weren't currently chasing another high by getting off on his thigh, moaning shamelessly and unbothered as you allowed him to touch you - touch you everywhere but where he actually wanted to.

"Baby, please-" Jace whined against your throat, his hands trembling as they ran over your sides. His glassy eyes were fixed on your chest for a moment and the way your thighs quivered with the effort you needed to rub your drenched pussy against him, your wetness staining the perfect white briefs he wore. They had been expensive, but now you ruined them with relish, your previous orgasms and his leaking dick staning the fabric.

So far, you had made yourself come twice on Jace's muscular thigh while he had not finished once. You had not granted him the luxury so far and you were way too obsessed with seeing him like this for now, flushed and sweaty all over just for you as he stared at you with enchantment and unshed tears in his eyes.

"Please." He tried again, puppy-like, really, his breath hitching as you tugged at the hair in his nape, not stopping your efforts to come a third, powerful time. "Please, love, let me touch you, let me touch myself, let me do anything-"

You smiled sweetly at him, briefly kissing his pouty mouth before leaning back in his lap, out of reach. At the gentle shake of your head, Jace released a frustrated groan, close to a cute little sob.

"Uh-uh, just a little more, baby boy." You whispered, kissing him again with raw hunger this time, a siren feeding on the love of her captive. As you bit down on his bottom lip, a hiss ecaped his kiss-bruised lips and his hips bucked up into you on their own. "I know you can last a little longer, Jace. You've been teasing me earlier, let me have a little fun here, hm?"

"'havent teased you..." Jace murmured defensively and you cocked an eyebrow at him, grinning knowingly. "H-how?"

"You think I didn't notice?" You whispered and dragged your nails over his smooth chest, delighted at the way his robe kept slipping down his shoulders, exposing his bony shoulders for kisses and bites you loved to give him. "You've walked past me all innocently earlier, just in your briefs about...four times, was it? Were you trying to get your girlfriend's attention? You just could've asked, baby."

Jace whimpered, throwing his head back as your fingers drifted underneath the waistband of his underwear. You could feel the heat of his throbbing dick, neglected and overstimulated at once by your mission to tease the hell out of him.

Just a little more and you'd have him right where you wanted, eager to lay the world and yourself at his feet. You knew he would let you do whatever you wanted in this particular state, no matter what you desired, he'd give it to you.

Maybe you'd let him eat you out while you picked out some of the expensive jewelry he got you for the night? Maybe you'd make him change into a new pair of briefs and let him finally jerk himself off while you watched, feasting on the fresh fruit the hotel had brought you? Maybe you'd cut the bullshit and ride him until he didn't remember his own family name anymore?

The ideas were blooming in your hazy mind as you smiled down on the boy beneath you. You two still had a few hours until the big black-tie dinner party with his whole family and you had a lot of patience, knowing it wouldn't be long until the love of your life would start begging.

[mind-intheclouds342]

Do it for them - Co-captain reader x Curly

Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6

Warning: Mention of rape.

You let out a sigh, as if you had held your breath for a few seconds upon seeing him there.

The only thing you could recognize was that blue eye color he had.

You were in a conflict, you didn't know what to do at that moment, your eyes filled with tears in an instant.

Before you knew it, you were walking towards him, your body aching, but the pain was secondary at that moment.

You leaned over his bed to see him up close, kneeling to be face to face with him. 

If he could express any kind of emotion on his face, you would say he was terrified that you finally saw him, your eyes were focused on him, and you didn't say a word.

Until you smiled.

"You're really alive..."

You murmured and covered your mouth when you started to laugh, the mix of emotions at that moment was a disaster, between laughter and sobs, you didn't know what to do, whether to feel happy because he was alive, or feel sad about the state he was in.

You slapped your cheeks hard enough to leave them red, trying to reason with yourself while listening to Curly's whimpers.

"Okay- okay- let me help you- I know they've been giving you painkillers for your pain, just let me give them to you"

You mentioned that upon hearing those sounds, you quickly looked for the pills and took one to be able to give it to him.

You moved your fingers nervously as you brought your hand closer to his jaw, his exposed teeth were something unpleasant to see, and the smell of burnt flesh was even worse in the room.

"I see why Anya looks so terrified... It must be difficult for her."

At one point, you pushed the pills down his throat and tried to move him a bit so he could swallow without choking.

In a short time, their whimpers ceased.

You noticed the robe you were wearing and decided to take it off to put on your uniform that was next to the bed where you woke up.

Curly inhaled sharply when you changed, seeing how almost your entire body was covered in bruises.

When you finished, you took a chair and sat down next to your husband.

They both looked at each other in silence.

"I understand why you didn't want me to see you like this... I really thought I would wait until you gave me permission to see you... I didn't expect to end up here in the nursery just like that..."

You looked at your hands and arms, well aware that they were covered in bruises that were now hidden by your clothes, but they were still there, and it hurt so bad. You took one of the painkillers and swallowed it, hoping the pain would go away soon.

"Do you have any idea why Jimmy hates me so much? Maybe he wanted to marry you."

You joked, leaning back in the chair, waiting for the medication to take effect. 

"I think I found a way to get back, we are heading to a Pony Express station, it seems you were able to reactivate the autopilot in the cabin before the explosion, we will get there in three months, I'm sure we can communicate with someone so they can come and rescue us."

Even when he didn't respond, you enjoyed this conversation you were having, you were happy to be able to talk to your husband again, and you knew very well that he could hear you, by the way he looked at you attentively. 

Anya: "Curly, I'm sorry for being late, I-"

You turned when you heard the door open and smiled upon seeing that woman, who immediately looked surprised to see you.

"Hey Anya~ woah-"

You were greatly surprised when she jumped at you to hug you, you pressed your lips together to avoid letting out a whimper of pain, reciprocating the hug in confusion. 

Anya: "I was so scared—I thought you would never wake up! I thought you were bleeding inside - we didn't know what to do - it happened -"

Immediately, you took her by the shoulders to make her separate and looked her straight in the eyes. 

"How long was I asleep?...."

Anya wiped her tears and took a breath before answering you.

Anya: "Three weeks..." 

You immediately got up from your seat, ready to leave the nursery. 

Curly immediately started making strange sounds, looking at the door and Anya, as if he were begging her to go with you. 

The woman looked at him strangely but soon began to follow him. 

Anya: "(Y/n) - please wait -" 

"Where the hell is Jimmy?"

You stopped and turned to look at her seriously. 

Anya: "Why are you looking for him?..."

"I'm sure that son of a bitch tried to kill me, I don't know what he's planning, but whatever it is, it ends here and now! Who knows what other damage he has done here on the ship and-!" 

You fell silent upon noticing his face, a mix of sadness and hope now that you were saying that. 

"Anya... please... no..."

Anya: "I told Curly but... He didn't do anything... I... I'm pregnant."

You opened your mouth, wanting to say something, but you just pressed your lips together, turned slowly, and took a few steps before starting to run in search of that man. 

Daisuke: "Swansea, I don't think you should drink that-"

Swansea: "We have no escape from this place now! Bah! Without the captains, there's nothing left."

He commented, taking another sip of the mouthwash they had found in the cargo. 

Jimmy: "I remind you that I am the captain now, so-" 

"CAPTAIN MY ASS!"

You arrived furiously in the room where everyone was gathered, you didn't even wait for him to respond, you took a chair close to you and hit him on the back with it. 

Daisuke: "Woah! What's happening?? (Y/n)! How long ago did you wake up? Why-?"

"GET OUT OF THE WAY!"

When the boy tried to approach you, you pushed him away, ready to hit Jimmy again, who was on the ground in pain. 

"DON'T TOUCH ME! I'M GOING TO KILL HIM!"

You started to shake as you felt the arms of both males holding you, preventing you from continuing to hit the other. 

Swansea: "What's happening with you?!"

"HE RAPE ANYA!" 

You shouted, exposing him in front of everyone, all of them speechless at the revelation. 

They slowly released you, and when you saw Jimmy move, trying to get up, you kicked him in the mouth, making him fall to the ground again. 

"You are disgusting, disgusting! Aren't you ashamed?! You've already done too much damage, you're on my damn ship! You're not going to do anything else here. And when we return, I will make sure you ROT IN JAIL."

You shouted this last part in his ear, grabbing his hair to make him lift his head, and then you slammed it against the ground again.

"Killing you would be showing mercy on you." 

You spat on his chest and left him there for a few seconds, you were going to have to find a place to lock him up.

[hotchshands]

for kinktober/cocktober hotch using his handcuffs on you? 😩😩😩 (i feel like her be so hesitant but the reader would be SUCH a whiny little bitch about it 🤭)

tyty <33 MWAH

How did you know I’m a slut for handcuffs🤭

Okay, so imagine it’s Halloween night, and Hotch dresses up as himself, basically because you and Jack begged him to join you all in some trick-or-treating. At the end of the night, Hotch has a surprise for you…

"Come on, it's Halloween. You have to dress up!" you shout from the kitchen at Hotch, who is putting together his last-minute Halloween costume in the bedroom. The two of you have just started living together in Hotch's tiny apartment, so it was your first Halloween as a couple.

You and Jack were patiently waiting for Aaron to finish up. You were dressed up as a witch, and Jack was dressed up as Spider-Man. Things at the BAU have been crazy busy, so you and Aaron forgot to plan for Halloween. Jack, on the other hand, has had his costume for weeks now. Your costume was a backup for years like this when you forgot to plan a more elaborate costume.

Jack and you were nibbling on the Halloween cookies you all made when Aaron walked out of the bedroom and inside the kitchen. "Well, it's not much of a costume, but it's all I got," Hotch says, looking down at his costume. He was wearing his FBI vest, and a pair of handcuffs were attached to this belt.

"Cool! Let's go, Dad!" Jack said, putting down a cookie and pulling on Aaron's leg, eager to go trick-or-treating. You laughed at his response and accepted Aaron's lame attempt at Halloween, following the two out. On your way, you caught a glance at Aaron's butt in his tight pants. You've seen him dressed on the job, but it takes your breath away every time.

After hours of trick-or-treating, you all decided to call it a night. Jack had gotten a bunch of candy but grew tired after a few hours, plus Hotch, and you were exhausted. By the time you stepped into the apartment, Jack was ready for bed.

While Hotch put Jack to bed, you cleaned up the house, ensuring all the candy was put away. After putting the boy to sleep, Hotch joined you in the kitchen. "I don't know about you, but I'm exhausted. I think I'm gonna turn in," Hotch said.

You sighed, "Me too. Mind helping me get out of this costume?"

Hotch's brows raised at that. He knew you didn't mean it in a dirty way, but his mind went gutter diving. He approached you and leaned toward your ear, "I'm glad you asked. I've been thinking of getting you naked all night."

"Aaron!" you yelped in surprise.

He couldn't help but laugh, walking away down the hall and toward the bedroom. You smirked, turning off the lights before following him. When you reach your bedroom, you can see Aaron standing in front of the bed, still in costume. Seeing him in the vest gave you a boost of much-needed energy.

"So, officer, are you gonna help me?" you asked, walking toward Hotch slowly.

Hotch looked you over before placing his hands on your shoulders, "That depends. Have you been a bad girl?"

"Me?" you point to yourself, knowing you were the only two in the room. "Well, everyone knows that I'm a good girl, officer."

You could tell your words affected Aaron even though you've never called him "officer" before. He traced the fabric of your costume before ribbing the black dress. You were shocked, stunned, really. He never acted that eager ever. He was a very patient man, but tonight was different. He didn't wait for permission.

"Is that so?" he said, tilting your chin up. He removed the remains of the dress from your body, leaving you in your lingerie. He then moved a hand toward your center and felt a hint of wetness there. "Good girls aren't such filthy whores. Now turn around," he commanded.

You slowly turned around, unsure of his next move.

"You're under arrest for trying to seduce a federal officer," he says, handcuffing you.

The cuffs were tight against your wrists, making it impossible to use them in any capacity. "But, officer, please let me explain," you pleaded, playing in the fantasy.

"No need. I'm gonna teach you a lesson, sweetheart."

He tosses you toward the bed. Your chest falls on the mattress while your hands remain tied behind your back. You couldn't see him, but you could hear the sound of a zipper coming undone. The sound made you whine. Your fingers reach out to touch him but to no use. He slaps your ass, telling you to stop whining.

"Bad girls don't get to touch. Got it?"

He grabbed your throat and lifted it up as he pressed against you, his other hand holding onto the cuffs that tied your hands together. You hated that you couldn't see or touch him, but you ended up having the best Halloween [sex] ever.

[rosieswriting]

Closer than ever

Remus Lupin x Potter!reader

Summary: After years of friendship filled with banter, study sessions, and always having each other’s back, a certain Gryffindor victory shifts everything between them. The lines they’ve carefully walked for so long start to blur, sparking a new closeness neither can ignore.

Note: english is not my first languaje so it probably has some mistakes!

Words: 1,9K

It was a Sunday morning, and the first days of spring had brought a warm glow over Hogwarts. The Gryffindor team had been training all morning under their new, overly enthusiastic captain—your brother, James Potter—who was determined to crush Slytherin in the upcoming match.

“We’re telling you, Moony, he’s going to be the death of us!” Sirius groaned dramatically to Remus and Peter, clutching his chest with exaggerated despair. The table broke into chuckles, everyone except James.

“You’re exaggerating,” James said, taking a long sip of his orange juice, looking unimpressed.

“He’s really not, Jamie,” you interjected, giving him a pointed look. “It’s barely nine in the morning, and we’re here, fresh from a two-hour training session, just trying to enjoy breakfast,” you added, taking a bite of your toast.

James shrugged, grinning. “When we beat Slytherin, you’ll all be thanking me.”

You and Sirius shared an eye roll, and Peter and Remus gave a small laugh. Soon, the Marauders shifted the conversation to other things—something about their latest plan to prank the Ravenclaws—but you tuned them out, savoring the warmth of breakfast and the rare spring sun filtering through the Great Hall.

Beside you, Remus leaned in, speaking softly. “Are you still up for the study session with Lily later? Or do you want to take it easy after practice?”

Since your first year, Remus had always been the one to help you with studies when you needed it. Weekly study sessions had become a tradition, and once Remus and Lily had grown close, she’d started joining you too.

“I’m still up for it,” you replied, turning to smile at him. “I have an essay due on that Goblin War of 1882, or something like that.”

“Oh, yes, I remember that one from last year,” he said with a grin. “I’ve got you covered. Same time in the library?”

“Same time,” you confirmed.

Later that afternoon, you made your way to the library, books and notes in hand. As you entered, you spotted Remus already sitting at your usual table, a few books spread out in front of him. He looked up, giving you a warm smile as he waved you over.

“Hey! Ready to tackle the Goblin War of 1882?” he greeted with a grin, sliding a seat out for you.

“Not really, but I’ll try,” you replied with a laugh, settling down beside him.

As you set up your notes, you noticed that Lily was nowhere to be found. "Where’s Lily? Don’t tell me she bailed on us,” you joked, glancing around.

Remus chuckled, shaking his head. “She did, actually. But only for a good reason—your brother convinced her to go for a walk around the lake.”

“Of course he did,” you muttered, rolling your eyes but smiling at the thought of James finally winning Lily over enough to steal her for a date. “Guess it’s just us, then.”

“Just us,” he repeated his tone light but with the slightest hint of something softer, and you couldn’t help but feel a warm flutter in your chest.

Remus pulled one of the books towards you, flipping to a section he’d marked. “So, for your essay, you’re supposed to cover the lead-up to the war, right? I found a few bits in here that might help.”

“Thank Merlin you’re here,” you sighed, leaning in to read over his shoulder. The proximity made your face warm, and you quickly turned your attention to the book to avoid giving yourself away.

He started explaining the notes he’d gathered, his voice soft and steady as he walked you through the political tensions and key events leading up to the conflict. You noticed how his hands moved as he spoke, gesturing in small, precise movements, and how his face lit up slightly as he explained things. There was something calming about the way he taught���like he wasn’t just helping you study but making it genuinely enjoyable.

After a while, he paused, his gaze lingering on you a little longer than usual. “You’re actually getting this down quicker than I thought.”

“Are you doubting my historical expertise, Lupin?” you teased, glancing up at him with a smirk.

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Not at all, but you did look a bit horrified earlier at breakfast when you mentioned the essay.”

You laughed, nudging his shoulder playfully. “Alright, fair point.”

A comfortable silence settled over you both as you continued writing, only broken occasionally by quiet questions and shared glances that made your heart race more than you’d like to admit.

Eventually, your attention drifted back to Remus, his brow furrowed in concentration as he scanned through one of the history books. “You know, I never did get why you’re always so patient with me about this stuff.” You said softly “You know you don’t have to keep impressing James to be your friend, right?” you added playfully.

He looked up, surprised by the question but with a fond smile playing at his lips. “I know” he answered chuckling “I like spending time with you.” he replied simply, his voice barely above a whisper.

You felt a blush rising to your cheeks, and the air between you grew warm. “Well… I like spending time with you too,” you murmured back, feeling bolder than usual.

For a moment, you just looked at each other, the silence now filled with unspoken words and the quiet buzz of the library around you. Neither of you moved, and neither did anything to break the spell. Instead, you just smiled, feeling flustered and shy, but somehow happier than you’d been all day.

Remus cleared his throat softly, breaking the silence but not the mood. “So… back to the Goblin War?”

You laughed, nodding. “Back to the Goblin War.”

And, as you returned to your notes, you couldn’t help but wonder if, maybe, this little spark between you both was something he felt too.

A week after, the Gryffindor common room was a blur of red and gold, filled with cheers and music as everyone celebrated their win over Slytherin. As one of the Chasers, you’d played a crucial role, weaving through the Slytherin defense and scoring more than once, and your teammates and friends hadn’t stopped congratulating you since.

As you moved through the room, basking in the praise and warmth of your friends, Remus caught your eye from across the room. He was leaning against the wall, holding a cigarette and smiling softly as he watched you. You made your way over to him, dodging tipsy students and sidestepping Sirius, who was in the middle of a very dramatic retelling of the match to a group of fourth years.

“Hey,” he greeted, taking a drag of his cigarette. “You were incredible out there.”

“Thanks, Rem.” You grinned, taking a sip from your own drink. “I’d say I had to be. Slytherin was definitely out for blood.”

“Tell me about it,” he chuckled. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you play like that.”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “It is Slytherin, after all.” You smirked. “You know, I wish you could come up there with me.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “You’d have to use a Sticking Charm to keep me on that broom, but... maybe someday.”

You grinned, holding out your pinky. “I’ll hold you to that.”

He hooked his pinky with yours, giving you a look that made your heart skip. “Fine. But only if you promise you won’t laugh when I fall off.”

“Deal” you whispered, still caught in his gaze.

“Although I’m not sure if I’ll be as good as you” he said softly.

The compliment caught you a bit off guard, and you felt your cheeks warm slightly, though you brushed it off with a laugh. “Flattery now, Lupin? I’m not that easy.”

He tilted his head, raising an eyebrow. “Really? Could’ve fooled me. You looked over the audience about five times during the game, couldn’t keep your eyes off me.”

You laughed, nudging him. “Maybe you were distracting me.” You said playfully.

“Was I?” he asked, giving you that lazy, half-smile that made it impossible to tell if he was serious.

You smirked, folding your arms as you leaned in a little. “Yeah. You wanna kiss me so bad it makes you look stupid.”

The words slipped out, and for a split second, you wondered if you’d gone too far. But instead of getting flustered, Remus just laughed, a deep, warm chuckle that sent a shiver down your spine.

He took a small step closer, his voice soft but playful. “So what if I do?”

Suddenly, you found yourself speechless, your usual confidence shaken by the way he was looking at you. Your heart raced, cheeks burning, and you tried to come up with a clever comeback but failed miserably.

Remus chuckled, clearly enjoying your flustered reaction. “Didn’t expect that one, did you?” he teased gently, reaching out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering for just a moment.

You swallowed, feeling your pulse quicken as you looked up at him. “Shut up” you mumbled.

His smile softened, and he leaned in slowly, giving you plenty of time to stop him if you wanted to. But of course, you didn’t. You closed the distance, meeting him halfway, and his lips were warm and soft against yours, filling you with a heady rush that made the whole world fade away.

His hands settled on your waist, fingers pressing gently as he pulled you closer, making your heart race. Your arms instinctively wrapped around his shoulders, fingers finding their way into the soft strands of his hair, savoring the warmth radiating from him. The kiss was anything but rushed; it was slow, each movement filled with a quiet intensity that spoke volumes.

As the kiss deepened, you felt the world melt away, leaving only the feeling of his steady heartbeat against your chest, the gentle touch of his hands as he drew you impossibly closer, and the realization that you’d both been waiting, yearning, for this moment to unfold. When you finally pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, his thumb brushing your cheek as he whispered, “You really are something, you know that?”

But just as you were about to say something, you heard someone clear their throat beside you.

You both turned to find James standing there, arms crossed, a smirk playing on his lips. “Well, well,” he said, raising an eyebrow, “about time, don’t you think?”

You felt your face go hot, scrambling to explain yourself, but James just rolled his eyes and chuckled. “Please, I’m just glad you finally got around to it. Just… no public displays around me, alright?” He winked and clapped Remus on the shoulder. “She’s all yours, Moony. But you better take care of her, or I’ll be hexing you.”

“Wouldn’t dream of anything else, mate,” Remus replied, glancing at you with a smile that made your heart skip.

James gave you one last playful eye-roll before heading back into the crowd. And as you turned back to Remus, you felt that spark between you both grow even warmer, knowing that whatever this was, you weren’t the only one who wanted it.

“Again?” you ask him smiling widely, making him chuckle.

“Again” me muttered against your lips before kissing you.

[rosyhoneydew]

Bucktommy sickfic | G | 722 words

When Evan sits up around 5:50 Tommy knows he's given up on trying to fall back asleep. He's been tossing and turning for the last hour or so, and trying his best to muffle the sounds of his coughing in the pillows, with little success.

Tommy rolls over and leans up on an elbow, rubbing at Evan's back. He's got a faraway look on his face like his head's feeling slightly fuzzy.

"You feeling okay?"

Evan sniffles and clears his throat lightly. "Yeah." It comes out like a croak and Tommy winces in sympathy. His voice sounds raw and creaky, and not just because it's the first he's spoken all morning.

This isn't really a surprise. Chim had warned the two of them about cold and flu season starting up at Jee's school - not that it ever really ended - so they'd known they were bound to pick up something with all the baking they'd been doing together. Tommy can't wait to have kids, hopefully someday soon, but the germiness will take some getting used to.

Tommy gets up fully, swinging his legs out of bed and grabbing his glasses from the nightstand. He moves to head out into the hallway.

"I think I've got some NyQuil still, it's the capsules though… you're good with swallowing pills, right?"

"Uh, wait, that'll just-" he cuts himself off with a coughing fit. It's dry, but it sounds painful. It's the kind that takes him a minute to get under control again. "That'll just make me more tired," he gets out eventually. "I've got a shift in a few hours."

Not like this, you don't.

"Evan…"

"Tommy," he throws back, petulant.

He and Evan have been together just under a year now. They've been living together for 3 months. They've said 'I love you' and talked about marriage; and if there's any one thing Tommy has learned in this time, it's that his boyfriend wouldn't willingly take a day off work if he were on his deathbed.

He sighs and pauses in the doorway. "Alright, why don't you call Bobby when he's up," he suggests. "See what he has to say about you going in this morning. I'll get you some medicine in case you change your mind."

"Fine," Evan concedes the point, reaching for his phone.

Tommy shakes his head, smiling a little at Evan's stubbornness. He makes his way to the kitchen, snaps off a packet of the blue gel-filled pills, and fills a glass with water from the fridge. It's still dark out, but it's starting to get the kind of green-gray hue of morning light, so he takes just a minute to peek out the window at it.

He's still standing there when he hears footsteps plodding behind him. He gets about a twenty-second heads up before Evan thunks his head onto the center of Tommy's back.

"You get a hold of him?"

"I'm not even that sick," Evan groans. He follows it up with a large, wet sniff that betrays his statement.

Tommy hums and reaches back to thread his fingers in Evan's hair, twisting his head to lay a quick kiss on his temple, contagion be damned. His skin feels hot and Tommy revisits his task of getting some meds in him to break the mild fever and hopefully let him get a little more rest. Thankfully, with the hopes of work dashed, he swallows them down without complaint, nibbling on a few crackers to settle his stomach too.

"Go lay back down, sweetheart, I'll be right there," Tommy says when he's finished.

Evan grumbles a bit but heads back to the bedroom. He's a little wobbly on his feet, and still soft-looking from bed. Tommy can't help but get distracted watching him. There's a fondness that's been present in his chest since they first got together, and it swells in him now. It's almost alarming, the way that it can take his breath away in these moments. Once he hears Evan settle back into bed he shakes himself and clears the counter.

When he enters the bedroom he finds Evan asleep already, snoring softly. He can't help but drop another kiss on his sweaty forehead, thinking of how lucky he feels to be the one caring for this man. In sickness and in health, he thinks and slips under the covers.

-

Happy first day of November! My goal this month is to write at least 2k words every day, so here's the first 700+ I wrote: a teensy tiny BT ficlet.

[legend-the-dumb-jock]

“Come on bro! It won’t be for long ! What do you say!?” Erik had been pestering Jake for a while now. Always with the same question. He a big beefy man. Muscular but he didn’t care about the slim and trim look. Indulging in life’s pleasures he has a massive tank of a gut. Jake on the other hand was very different. Working out. Eating healthy. And Jake was tired of his friend constantly pleading with him. “Fine. But not for long ! Ok!?” Erik’s eyes lit up with anticipation. “Deal! I can’t wait ! This is going to be so fun! Plus I only wanted to know what it would be like to be in your body for a little bit. And you gotta admit. I’m sure you wanna see what this is like…” he said as he patted his gut. And Jake couldn’t deny it…he did want to see what it was like.

Erik hand him a piece of paper and drew a ritual circle. Barry big enough to the two of them. Then Erik turned to him “ok start chanting with me !” And the te began. Reading the chant and then soon saying the chant to each other. Over and over…. “We ask you switch our bodies, make it be!” And a bright light appeared engulfing the whole room.

Jake felt heavy for the first time. Heavy and grounded. When the light dissipated he looked down and seen nothing but the hairy bulking body of Erik. As body he was now in. “Wow this is awesome bro!” Erik yelled. “I feel like I can do anything!” He jumped up and down without issue. Jake could feel sweat beading down his back and chest. “Bro why are you sweaty ! Is it like this all the time!?” Jame asked. Erik laughed “yeah just about the entire day. You’ll want to cope with it though.” Jake walked to the couch to sit and felt like he would get out of breath. “Well. It’s only for a little while. A week tops. Ok?” He said to Erik who was flexing and acting goofy. “Yeah yeah a week. Oh! And don’t forget. While you’re in my body you need to keep my routine up.” He said as he handed James a large protein shake made with extra heavy cream. “And I’ll do the same for you!”

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After that first day the two best friends parted. Jake stayed in Erik’s apartment and vice versa. The first day was a struggle for Jake. Getting used to the bulking form Erik had. Taking up a lot more space than he was used to. Floor boards creaked under his weight and when he sat down on his couch he had to heavy himself off. And almost as if on clocked work he would get the text telling him “don’t forget to drink the shakes bro! Gotta keep my body perfect”

Jake had even developed a taste for the shakes. At first he had to make himself drink them. But now he couldn’t get enough. He would find himself in the kitchen late at night having multiple shakes.

He would message Erik about day to day tasks and Erik would just support him.

“Hey big guy look at how awesome I’m keeping your body looking” Jake would see. Erik was really enjoying himself in his body. Jake would look at the pictures he would get and rub his hairy hard gut and he found that sometimes he would even get hard looking at them. He couldn’t wait to be back in his body.

—————————-

Jake walked into his apartment and braced himself on the wall. “Bro. You didn’t tell me the elevator was out! I just had to walk up 7 flights of steps!” He was breathing heavy. The massive gut expanding with each breath. Sweat was dripping from his body staining the shirt he was wearing. “Oh yeah bro sorry about that I just got carried away!” Erik said as he was finishing up a set of crunches. Jake couldn’t help but love looking at his body. So fit and muscular. “Wow big guy! Look at you! Did you make my body gain weight!?” He jumped to his feet, walked to Jake and poked at his exposed naval. “Hey I couldn’t help it those shakes are so good. I’ve already had one today !!” Erik just laughed and said “well good. I’m glad you enjoy them.” Erik took Jake to the kitchen table and showed him the pizzas and wings he got for them “don’t worry Jake. This is for you. I’m on a strict diet right now so only rice and chicken for me”. Jake began eating and was in love with all the flavors he was tasting.

“Ok Jake. So to get this swap to work, we need to be naked. And we will need to say this” he handed the paper to Jake. Erik smiled at him. When he was done eating they both stood on the living room. In the circle. “Erik this circle seems smaller now” Jake said and Erik just giggled “hey big guy, it’s not my fault if you managed to pack on a few pounds”. Jake blushed. He knew Erik was right. But all the more reason to get this swap over with. Jake was so sweaty I this body. And even though he just ate he could already feel himself getting hungry again.

The two men began to chant. Jake the. Realized that Erik was just staring at him so he stopped. “Bro what gives ? Come on”. Erik put his hand on the abs he adorned and looked down. Then back at Jake. “Jake. I like having abs and all this extra energy…. Is there anything you like about my body?” He was serious. He wanted to stop the ritual for this. “I mean. It’s definitely not the muscular one I am used to.” Looking down and rubbing his hairy gut “and this….this is definitely a lot to handle”. Erik was rubbing his hands up and down the abs on Jake’s body. And Jake began to get hard. “I see you like this Jake. Me playing with this body.” He began to pinch his nipples as his own cock began to get hard. “How much do you like this ?” Jake couldn’t help was watch. His own dick getting watching his body play with itself under Jake’s control. “Come on Jake. Give your own cock a good suck before we swap.” Jake dropped to his knees as if on command. The floor boards creaking under his giant weight. Erik put his dick in his old mouth and began to face fuck Jake. “Yeah Jake. You like this don’t you. Sucking your own cock. You love it don’t you. I love it!” Jake began to scream. He pulled out and started rubbing his hand up and down the shaft. “Go on Jake. Tell me how much you like that body you’re in”. And Jake found himself saying stuff he never thought he would. “I love the intense appetite. I love all this hair and sweat. I love being so massive that it makes me struggle to do stuff. I love getting out breath. I love this body Erik!” All the while Erik was rubbing his cock. And then when Jake finished talking Erik slammed his cock back in his mouth. “Yeah you do. You love being that body don’t you! You love being me !” He held Jake’s head to his cock as he shot loads down his throat. Making him swallow. The. Erik began to chant. Holding Jake’s head on his hard cock. Choking him. Preventing him speaking. Jake tried to pulled away but he couldn’t. He was stuck! All while Jake chanted a speak that sealed them in each others bodies.

“There Jake. Now you can love being in my body for the rest of your life and I’ll enjoy this one.” Jake tried to protest but Erik wouldn’t hear it. “You love the body so much Jake. You’re stuck in it now!”

Jake was left in a hairy sweaty mess on the living room floor while Erik turned on the tv. Grabbed some chicken and rice and just watching him. Opening his legs he said “come on ERIK come suck !” And defeatedly. The new Erik did as he was told.

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Inspired by story https://www.tumblr.com/legend-the-dumb-jock/765534590247026688