#you are welcome for the warning and thank you for respecting it

[sierrale8ne]

40 DAYS AND 40 NIGHTS CHAPTER SIXTEEN

thought i’d be lying if i said ‘i didn’t want you to myself.’ when you look me in my eyes and, tell me that it’s mine, i…

pairing wnba!paige bueckers x singer!oc

taglist @thaatdigitaldiary @ohbueckers @wbbgetsmewetter @rosemariiaa @tndaqlifwy @pboogerswbb @xxloveralways14 @makethemhoesmad @slvt4her @luvapaigeeyy @hedidnotpleaseme @paigesbabygirl @mopopshop @omg-imtumbling @numberonepartyanth3m @wbb4l @authentic-girl03 @slut4uconnwbb @unadulteratedcyclepaper @kplum10 @fuddfanatic35 @avvwritesstufff @paigesluver @bueckersbitch @ryywyd @lupinqs

warnings long chapter (9.3k words), sexual content (fucking filth, you’re welcome!)

kalena speakss 🪽! i’m so so sorry for the wait, i’ve been lazy and also interrupted multiple times while writing. anyways, there’s nothing i’ve enjoyed writing, more than paige and maraye’s story. so, i thank you guys for all the support since it’s dropped and all the interactions and comments and anons, y’all truly make me laugh. i have an epilogue and around two bonus chapters planned so be on the look out for those. i’d love some live reactions to this one if you guys are up for it! anyway enjoy the finale with my babies, i put pen to paper for this one!

July 2025 — Indianapolis, Indiana

“You can’t answer your phone now?”

“Pa—”

“My girl just treatin’ me like I’m chopped damn liver.”

“Pai—”

“Who you with?”

“Paige!” I finally cut in, shaking my head and tapping the FaceTime button on the screen. “Shut up for a second, and pick up.” I groan.

The sound of the call connecting, finally comes through, and I can’t help but press the photo button when I see her, all laid out on her hotel bed with an arm behind her head. Her face is flushed, hair slightly sweating from her first All-Star practice. A pout graces her lips and her eyes squint as she scowls.

“Hi.” I grin.

“What’s so important that you can’t answer my calls?” She asks again, staring at me intensely through the screen.

I roll my eyes at her eagerness. Our plane landed early that morning, and after getting checked in at our respective hotels, Paige had practice and I went out to do some shopping. “I’m tryna find an outfit for our date.” I explain, looking over at the girls next to me who attempt to help me out.

“You by yourself?” She asks. Her eyebrows furrow, and knowing Paige, I know she’s pissed that I didn’t ask her to come with me. 

I shake my head, panning the camera to reveal both Nika and Azzi next to me. I’m not sure how this came about, but a few texts and an invitation later the two were joining me at the mall. 

“You didn’t tell us that Raye looked this good in person!” Nika speaks into the phone. I cover the lower half of my face with my hand, an attempt to hide my growing blush. 

“And for good reason.” The blonde replies before turning her attention towards me. “Baby, you ignorin’ me to hang out with them? That’s how you feelin’?”

I’ve spent the last hour and a half understanding why Nika and Azzi were Paige’s best friends. They were involved, and not in that nagging annoying way, they cared. They cared about Paige and wanted to keep her happy. Which in turn, meant they cared about my business with the woman.

I laugh at Paige, my attention still not fully on her as I assume she’d want. “I’m not ignoring you. I need to find an outfit, blondie.”

“Y’know you could wear a trash bag and I’d still wanna take you out, right?”

“That’s what I said!” Azzi sings into my ear. “But I will say, this one is perfect.” The girl says. Azzi holds up one of the two-piece sets I was yet to try.

“Girl you gotta try it on. I like it too.” Nika affirms.

Suddenly my phone is an afterthought. “Really? It’s not too casual?”

“Lemme see.”

“It’s Indiana. I promise this isn’t casual.” Azzi explains.

“Hellooo?”

“Your ass would look perfect in this skirt tho’. Wear this one!” Nika shakes the outfit on the hanger a little more harshly.

“Ight now I really need to see it.”

I look back and forth between the two women, both outfits fitting completely different vibes. The denim co-ord in Azzi’s hands would accentuate my hips and my tits, which Paige simply would fall out over. The black set in Nika’s hands might stop us from going out to dinner all together.

“P, what’s the dress code?” I turn back, looking down at her astonished face on my screen. Her lips slightly parted eyes blown wide.

“So know you remember I exist?” She teases.

I give her a tilt of my head, enough to let her know I want her to shut up. “Dress code, please?”

“Uh-I-I dunno. Nothin’ too fancy, nothin’ too casual.” Paige shrugs.

“Well whatchu wearin’?” I ask.

I know my choice of words should’ve been picked a bit better because Nika snickers beside me and Paige lets out a laugh, sending me that smirk of hers that makes my knees go a little bit weak in the store. 

“Ayo?” Paige jokes, covering her mouth with her palm.

“Paige Madison.”

“I’m wearin’ jeans!” She finally answers when her laughter dies down. “Jeans and a black tee, maybe a jacket. I dunno yet.”

I huff, looking back at the options the three of us have picked out. Paige was right, what I put on didn’t really matter. At least not as much as I thought it did. But this is our first date, my first date with a girl, with Paige— who isn’t just any girl. 

So I pick up the set in Nika’s hands, the black fabric running through my fingers. It is perfect. “I’ll see you tonight, okay?”

Paige nods, her lips folding into a small grin. “Tonight.”

—

I run my hand anxiously down the side of my jeans, catching a glimpse of the white patchwork on the knees and taking a deep breath outside the door. I’m nervous. Which is a feeling I’m not very used to yet. 

In my entire 23 years of living, I think I’ve only ever been on three first dates. Two in high school and one in college with Nyla. Though, I don’t really think I could ever consider that a date.

Either way, the number was slim to none which left me with zero clue of what to expect tonight. Especially from Maraye.

She was unpredictable. Nothing about her ever completely the same. She kept me on my damn toes, which was great but also so confusing at the same time.

I knocked on the hotel door softly before digging my hands into the pockets of my Kith jacket. Along with my black baggy jeans, I threw on a simple black shirt and a jacket. She might’ve never said it out loud, but with the way she always looks at me when I wear it, I know that black is Raye’s favorite color on me. As is mine on her.

My fingers are decorated with silver rings. I have on two different chains, the first is a simple one with a cross and the second is my diamond 5 chain. I figured that a first date calls for pulling out all the stops. 

My stomach suddenly bubbles with anxiousness and my pulse is heard in my ears as I wait for her. This is it. Our first date, and the more I repeat it in my head, the more surreal it sounds.

I was right about not knowing what to expect with Raye, because I knew she’d look good but I wasn’t ready for her to look this damn good.

She wears this black two piece. The skirt is long and low waisted, giving me a view of the fine lines of her abdomen, a thin waist chain and a navel piercing, both gold that make my mouth water. The matching shirt falls off of her left shoulder, a velvet bunch of material that is ruched on her side. 

All Raye ever wears is gold, which doesn’t change now, her rings are thin bands, and there are bracelets adorning her wrists from Van Cleef and Louis Vuitton. She’s dripped down in it, and it makes her glow even more than normal. Her scent, Chanel no.5 as per usual, travels up to my nose and I swear I could pass out from getting my eyes on her alone.

“Goddamn, Miss Carter.”

“Gimme a second, sorry.” She laughs, a pure and bright laugh that makes my eyes go wide.

I clear my throat, nodding my head while shamelessly raking my eyes over her. “Got all dressed up for me, huh?” I say, taking Maraye’s invitation to enter her room, the door closing behind me.

She scoffs. “You fuckin’ wish.” And if it weren’t for the fact that I heard from her own mouth that this outfit was specifically for tonight, I would have believed her. “I look good tho’?”

I nod almost immediately, my head moving before I could really even process what she just asked me. Because she looks damn good. Not just her clothing, the fine lines of each of her tattoos are shown off by what she wears, and her hair is completely different from when I saw it just this morning. Her curls blown out and trailing down her shoulders. She looks like a fucking model.

“You look—fuck. Raye, are you serious? You look gorgeous, ma.” I say, still almost breathless. “Y’know, I actually brought sum for you.”

“Why?”

I laugh at her reaction. “I mean, your birthday was yesterday. I was supposed to give it to you at the house, but someone was tryna get in my pants all night.” Raye instantly breaks eye contact with me at that, eyes traveling to the ceiling.

I dig into my back pocket, grasping the thin box in my hand before showing it to her. It’s simple, a thin sleek white that looks perfect against her hands.

Maraye looks at me skeptically, her eyebrow raising before she darts her eyes down at the box. She pulls the lid off carefully and I watch her intensely. The way she pouts at the thin line of jewelry in the box. There’s a gold Angel pendant in the center. 

“Paige.” She starts, and her feet are moving in an instant. She brings an arm to my cheek cupping it before leaning into me and placing her lips on my other cheek. “It’s beautiful.”

“Yeah? You like it?” I can feel my skin get hot and I lick my lips.

“Mmhmm. Love it, blondie.” Maraye nods, a grin spreading across her cheeks and I swear I see her blush just a little. “Imma wear it tonight.”

I can’t even hide my face, completely taken aback. “Y-you don’t have to. Really, it ain’t a big deal. If y’ont like it—”

“No. I do like it and I am wearing it.” She reaches down for my wrist, pulling me further into the hotel room. “Help me put it on.” Raye smiles, and just like that all my nerves are gone. Because she’s here, just like I want her to be. She’s all dressed up, saying all the right things, and smiling that smile that makes me forget that we do have places to be. 

I take the gold chain in my hands, raising my hands over her head and taking my spot directly behind her in the full length mirror. I clasp it, looking at how that pendant sits perfectly on the glistening hollow between her collarbones. 

“It’s perfect.” My arms settle around her waist, my chin in the crook of her neck. I watch her watch the two of us in the mirror, her fingers tracing over where it decorates her neck in gold. “It’s a cute angel.”

I hum and press my lips against the column of her neck. “My angel, yeah?” And I know I live for the way her face blushed at it. Her ears visibly reddening and her eyes darting away from me in the mirror.

Raye’s head turns to meet mine, her glossed lips immediately catching my attention as they curl upwards into a smile. Then she nods. A simple fucking nod that makes my entire body feel hot. We’re inches apart, I can see the gears in her head turning. I just know Raye thinks she’s slick, but I catch the way her eyes move down to my lips anyway.

“C’mon. Let’s go.” She murmurs, breaking our intense gaze with a slight stutter. I peel my arms off her waist and step back. She reaches for her purse, tossing the black YSL bag onto her shoulder and doing one last look over the room before looking back at me. 

All of a sudden the resolve I’ve attempted to have over the last 24 hours is out of the window. All I can think about is taking her right here, I don’t care about dinner. I care about the face she’d make under me, my name off her tongue, how fucking good I know she’d taste on mine. She looks like a dream, that fabric hugging every curve of that perfect—

“We’re gonna be late.” 

I lick my lips for what feels like the 50th time since I’ve been here. Stalking over to her, I immediately wrap an arm around her waist, pulling her into me until I can feel her belly piercing pressing up against my abdomen.

“I’m makin’ you mine, the second dinner is over.” I mumble, my lips dangerously close to hers.

She’s enjoying this, the way I visibly go crazy for her. The way I stop holding back because frankly, I don’t think I have to anymore. Raye doesn’t have to say it, but the way she arches her body into mine and grips at my bicep lets me know it’s turning her on too. Or at least I’ll pretend it does.

“Coulda done it last night.” Raye shrugs. “Or this morning.” She says pointedly. Her other hand reaches for mine on her waist, tugging it off and pushing it to my side. She spins on her toes, placing one kitten heeled foot in front of the other as she reaches for the door. 

I don’t even wait a second before my hand meets her ass.

“Paige!”

“Ain’t no way you thought I wasn’t gonna do that at least once.” She frowns at me, stepping to the side of the open doorway and looking at me expectantly.

“Walk in front of me.”

“Ma—”

“In front. Go.” Raye grits through her teeth, and when she looks at me like that I know better than to ignore her. I step through the doorway, watching behind me as she shuts it behind her. “You’re so annoying.”

I don’t answer, rather sticking my hand, palm up, for her to take. And she does. It’s then when I know that this is where I’m supposed to be, with her holding my hand. It’s simple, but still I think it makes my body react like it never has before.

She interlocks her fingers with mine, the coolness of her rings press into the sides of my fingers. She’s smiling, again. I drag her behind me, trying to get used to the feeling of our hands together, but all it does is mess up my head more. 

“You look really pretty by the way.” She murmurs, her eyes are glued to the floor when I look at her. I know my hand is sweating as a reaction to her compliment, and I don’t know what to do besides muttering a ‘thank you’ with a cheeky smile. 

I know I’m fucked. All I’m thinking now is that I have to make it through dinner. That’s it.

Get through dinner.

—

When I look away from our waiter— who has just informed us that a mistake was made in the kitchen and that our appetizers would be on the house— and over at Paige, she’s rolling her eyes and taking a sip from the wine she hated, but still insisted on getting an entire bottle of. She did it to make me happy, of course, even though I insisted that it wasn’t an issue for her to get her beloved Shirley temple.

She’s kissing her teeth, setting down the wine glass before picking up a slice of focaccia bread and smearing it in butter. “We need a different waiter.”

I can’t help but laugh at her sudden statement. “You’re being dramatic.” I say, following suit in throwing some bread into my own mouth.

“He tryna fuck you.” She points at me. I find her jealousy and blatant vulgarity amusing, especially when our waiter had to be no older than 18 years old. 

I lick the crumb from the corner of my lips. “And how would you know that, Madison?”

“Bro was lookin’ at you how I look at you. And that’s sayin’ something.” She says loudly, as if it’s obvious. My eyes go wide as I attempt to get her to quiet down. Paige did a good job of getting us a secluded table. Throw in the soft jazz that played and the ambiance of the low light, she did wonderful at making dinner as romantic as she could.

But it was obvious that dealing with our waiter was not in her evening plans.

“Stop it, no he wasn’t.” I brush her off, reaching for my nearly empty first glass of wine. The scent travels through my nose, just barely adding to my growing tipsiness. 

“And you're just flirting back. Smilin’ all big and shit.” Paige groans. “Showing all 32 is crazy.”

Her adamant attitude makes me smile, “He works in service, I’m being nice!”

“Flirting.”

“That boy prolly hasn’t even graduated high school yet, Paige.” I roll my eyes.

“You’re flirting.”

“You just love arguing wimme, huh?” I ask, leaning on my elbows to peer into her eyes across the table. 

She grins, crossing her arms as she leans into me in the same way I am. “Were you not the one all hot and bothered by me yelling at you on the plane?”

I smirk at the memory. The way her eyes turned dark when I suggested she talk to me like that again. How she was so set on keeping her word but still fell victim to my antics on her lap. And I was so close to getting her how I wanted her if it hadn’t been for her fucking stubbornness.

“See that was me flirting.” I say, trying to get that event out of my head before I’m proving Paige right and getting all bothered again. 

She shakes her head at me, scratching at her top lip with her thumb. The blonde takes her attention off me when that waiter comes back with our food. My blackened salmon and shrimp glistened in the sauce it came with. Alongside Paige’s ribeye steak, mashed potatoes, and broccolini.

She took control of the conversation with ease, allowing him to set down our plates before refilling our glasses of wine. I didn’t even spare a glance at our waiter because in my head, I’m thinking that there isn’t a moment in the last few months where Paige has looked hotter to me than she does right now.

I’d like to think that her choice of all black was purposeful because she knows how I react to it, but everything else has me losing my train of thought every few seconds into our conversations and whatever else that boy is saying to the both of us. Her Rolex watch gleams in the light each time she moves, the same with the diamonds of her 5 chain and earrings. Paige’s hair is slicked back into a bun that, outside of her wearing it down, might be my favorite style of hers.

I watch her intently, each movement of her fingers and arms. The way she licks her lips. Even the fake smile she gives to the waiter. Her fingers wrap around her glass, raising it slightly and tipping it towards my own. It’s then when I realize I’ve been doing nothing but staring and that I should probably follow suit.

“Be more slick next time.” Paige chuckles, our glasses finally clinking together. Her lips are just slightly glossed, a mixture of a sheer pink that makes them look even more beautiful than they already are when they touch the glass.

I take a heady gulp of my wine before reaching for my fork and knife, collecting them in one hand and draping the black cloth they came in over my lap. “Says the one who been staring at my tits all night, thinkin’ I didn’t notice.”

Paige tries to hide the face she makes, she really does. But when mine finally meet her blues, she folds almost immediately, swiping a hand over her chin and licking her lips with a gentle laugh. 

“I dunno what you’re talking about.”

I look down at my plate while Paige does the same, my mouth heavily watering when I get a glimpse of my food, but even more when I see Paige’s plate.

“Madisonnnn.” I sing. My recent abuse of her middle name has made her smile all night, but this time she doesn’t. Mostly because she knows exactly what I’m asking for.

She shakes her head, preparing to cut her medium-rare steak, “absolutely not.”

“It’s my birthday.”

“Yeah, yesterday.”

“C’mon, just one bite.” I pout, hoping that it does what it normally does, and that is get her to crack.

She cuts a bite of the steak making sure to swipe it against the garlic butter on the plate before feeding it to herself. “You haven’t even tried your salmon yet, angel.”

On instinct I run my heel against her inner calf, moving it up higher until it’s up against her thigh. Paige’s eyes snapped to mine and I stuck out my lip, playfully batting my eyelashes at her. 

“Please, baby?” I murmur softly. The pet name feels foreign on my tongue, not just because It’s my first time saying it in reference to Paige. I genuinely can’t remember the last time I’ve used it at all.

She swallows her steak and I watch her hand travel under the table. Paige gives me that fucking smirk, gripping my ankle and holding it in place against her lap to stop my antic. “Try your food first.” 

I tug my ankle away from her and drop it to the floor, huffing before taking a bite of my perfectly seasoned salmon.

“How is it?” Paige asks, tapping a finger against the edge of the table.

I let the food melt on my tongue, “it’s amazing.” I mumble, following it with a sip of wine.

Paige nods in approval, cutting a piece of her steak as she did once before. She dangles the fork in my face like a dog with a toy. “C’mere, mama.”

I smile, not even bothering to hide it from her as I lean in some more, taking the bite she offered and letting the fork teasingly linger in my mouth. 

“Good?”

I dance in my seat. “Good. I think mine tastes better tho’.”

And Paige rolls her eyes. Scooting backwards from me and getting back to eating. Happily getting her own playful revenge on me as she does so.

—

“You were what?” I ask, nearly choking on air as I laugh.

I sit on the edge of my hotel bed, foot bouncing eagerly as I talk to Raye through the wall that separates the main room from the bathroom in which she entered the second I got the door open. I’m guessing the multiple glasses of wine was a bad idea for the both of us. Especially tonight, because I’m going crazy now that it’s just me and her.

I’m supposed to be all ears to our conversation, to her telling me about her nerdy high school endeavors. And I am finding amusement at every bit. 

Then, each time I blink, I’m thinking about her in that skirt. How her ass sits perfectly in it. The glistening glow of her waist chain on the perfectly defined abdomen, the curves of her hips. 

I can hear her groan over my laugh, before the water of the sink begins running. “Theater, Paige. I did theater. Quit laughing, you idiot!” She yells out.

“You were a thespian? Like for real?” 

The water cuts off, and her heels click against the bathroom tile before muffling against the carpet. Raye’s hips sway as she approaches me, 

“You were a lesbian jock. And you still are, so shut up.” The grits, slipping the heels off her feet and standing between my legs. Her words don’t even click in my head, all my attention is on her.

I reach my hands up to her thighs, gripping them through the fabric. “Put on a show for me then.”

“That was the best line you could come up with?” Raye asks, a laugh freeing itself from her throat. Her hands tugged mine off of her body, leaving my palms cold from her absence.

“You tellin’ me you got something better?”

“Mmhmm.”

When she steps back I swear I’ve died and gone to heaven. Slowly, Raye pulls that black top off of her head, showing off her gorgeous, navy, lace bra. It cups her tits just right, complementing the brown of her skin and the gold of her jewelry so good I wanna rip the rest of those clothes off.

“‘Member what you said last night? Teach you and you’ll teach me, or whatever?” She breathes. I just nod again, reaching forward for Raye’s hip. 

She smirks, sending my entire body into orbit. I’m soaked through my boxers and my jeans, completely enthralled by the way she looks before me. 

Raye bores those perfect brown eyes into mine while she hooks her thumbs in the waistband of her skirt. “Wanna teach me sum then?” She tells me. I should’ve known that we couldn’t go more than five minutes in this room together before I was wanting to fuck her raw. Slow and deep and carnal and fucking raw. Wanting to give her everything that she’s never had before. 

I shoot up to my feet, watching her skirt pool on the floor. She steps out of it, rolling her neck up to look at me through her lashes. 

My eyes gaze over her body once more, how the lace on her hips clings to them. Her hair, bombshell curls— that I still don’t think I really ever got over— flipped over to one side and tattoo’s that decorated her skin in that perfect ink. 

“I've been tryna take my time with you.” I groan, running a palm over my chin, “makin’ this shit so hard.”

She catches me by surprise when she throws her arms around my neck, arching her chest towards my face. The line of her cleavage is even more defined by the simple moment.

“Teach me.”

I take a breath. “On everything, I ain’t stopping when I start.”

“Teach. Me.”

—

I swear Paige is kissing me before I can even finish my words. Lips on my harsh and certain. The first time, she was so delicate; like she was trying to figure me out. The second time was desperate, and I’m sure if it wasn’t for us getting interrupted she would’ve turned me out in the studio that night. The third time was like a goodbye. Short and sweet, but full of everything we were yet to say.

This one? It’s like oxygen after drowning. Maybe it was all the strain we’ve been feeling since our fight, or all the sexual tension that we’ve been tiptoeing around over the last 24 hours. But I feel like I’m floating, like her hands that dig into my hips let me become one with the sky as her lips dance on mine.

Paige tastes like perfection. Not anything I can specifically point out except for the wine and the slight sweetness from our shared Oreo cheesecake. 

I pull back, breaking the suction of our lips. She eyes the line of saliva that connects us, and I know it turns her on because Paige doesn’t even bother licking it away. She just brings me back, sliding her hands to my ass and gripping it as she entangles our tongues.

I suck on her hers sloppily, feeling myself grow wetter when she moans into the kiss. My hands cup her jaw angling my head just right so I can get more of her, more of anything.

In a swift movement she’s throwing off her jacket, the sound of it crashing to the floor muffled by the sound of our kisses. She’s turning me over, backing me towards the bed until I hit the foot of it. Paige lays me down, her action so gentle compared to the way she digs into my hips. 

All of a sudden I’m hyper aware of it all. Of how I’m standing here in nothing but carefully picked lingerie, letting Paige fucking Bueckers kiss me within an inch of my life. How desperate I must seem for her, but she doesn’t care, equally as needy for me. 

“Mine all fuckin’ night.” She murmurs on my lips, pulling away to lick her own as we both catch our breath. The coolness of her chain drags against my clavicle, making me gasp into her. Paige shakes her head, looking at me like she can’t even believe I’m real, before tilting my head with her hand at my jaw. Her lips attached to the line of it. “Gon’ fuck you till you can’t take it.”

I’m nodding, cupping her head to hold her there. I search her hair for the hair tie that holds her bun together, finding it and tugging her locks free so it falls down her shoulders. Paige kisses her way down my neck, finding my sweet spot almost too easily. 

My other hand darts under her shirt to tug at the waistband of her jeans, moaning breathlessly when she sucks on that spot right where my neck meets the top of my chest. “Fuck.” I groan, deciding that the quicker I get these clothes off, the quicker I get to leave her bed a fucking mess. “Take this shit off, P. Now.”

I tug at the hem of her black shirt and Paige pulls back from me, lips swollen and wet, to ruck her shirt off and toss it on the floor. I trail my eyes over her body; muscular shoulders tanned from the sun of summer, sports bra clad to her chest, line of her abs and that obvious V that leads down into her pants.

It’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.

She cages me in with her arms, which flex at every subtle movement. Paige starts with the kissing again, first with a bite to my earlobe before she trails lower and lower. Over the tattoo down the side of my neck, until she meets my chest. “You so perfect, angel.”

I hum, feeling myself get wetter and wetter with each word she says. “Paige.”

“Mm?” She purrs, looking up at me with her lips attached to the swell of my breast.

“Been—mmph— been wantin’ you for months, baby. Stop teasing and fuck me.” I stutter, allowing my fingers to tangle in her long blonde locks. 

Paige curls her arm under my body, grounding my hips with one hand and unclipping my bra with the other. It comes easy for her, and my mind briefly travels to that place where I’m wondering how many girls she’s had to have done this to for it to be that simple. She peels my bra down my arms, tossing it behind her as well. The way she looks at me, like I’m prey, makes me realize I don’t fucking care. I can’t care, not when it’s just me and her.

“I gotchu, baby. I do, jus’ lay back.” Paige says. She licks up the center of my body before turning her head to lick at my nipple, swirling her tongue around it messily. She wraps her lips around it, sucking on my tit like it’s a pacifier. “So fine. Shit unreal.” 

She does the same to my other breast, squeezing the flesh in her hand, biting at my nipple. She’s nasty. As I expected her to be, with the way she’s been acting since I met her. But this, the worshiping of my body is something I’ve never had before. With anyone.

Paige trails sloppy kisses down my torso, leaving hickeys on my stomach that I know I’m going to have to cover up in order to wear my outfit tomorrow.

She gets settled between my legs, trailing her nose against the hem of my panties. “Need this pussy, ma. Needa taste you.” She bites at the lace, snapping it against my inner leg and I whimper.

Her thumb curls into them, being slow and gentle with the way she tugs the clothing down my legs. “This okay?”

“Yeah. It’s okay.” I nod, lifting my hips to aid her. “So okay.”

In response she grins at me, kissing across my pelvis down to my inner thighs. Her eyes glued to mine, blues dark with how wide her pupils have dilated, before they dart between my legs to my soaked cunt. “Fuck, Raye.” She groans, pressing her thumb to my clit.

“P, I need—”

“No fuckin’ way you been keepin’ this from me.” Paige shakes her head in disbelief, kissing my thigh softly. “Gonna make it mine, baby. I swear.” 

She’s leaning in at that, running her tongue up through my folds with the softest lick that makes my eyes roll instantly. I toss my head onto the pillows, letting her grip my inner thighs as she speeds up. 

“Pussy tastes fuckin’ incredible, mama. So sweet.” Paige groans, lapping at my cunt like she hasn’t eaten in ages. Her lips wrapping around my clit, tongue running on the underside of it. She’s a fucking pro, garnering reactions that I’ve never had before.

My fingers grip the sheets beside me, back arching off the bed. “God, P. F—uck!” I croak, my moans coming out louder and louder as she eats me dry. “Shit, baby.”

Paige’s free hand is reaching for mine, releasing the sheets from my grip and replacing it with her own. She interlaces my fingers and that’s when I shoot up, looking down at her with my jaw slack. 

I watch her, my wetness coating her mouth and the tip of her nose, her tongue licking up and down my folds and teeth nipping at my clit gently. It makes me mewl, her name and curses of pleasure the only thing I can give her. 

She was sloppy—messy and unrefined in a way that shouldn’t have worked, but somehow it did. Paige’s mouth was nothing like the careful precision I had expected from her. Instead, it’s driven by pure want, a raw, desperate hunger that has my legs trembling around her head and my hips bucking into her mouth.

She has me feeling nothing but wanted. Wanted and wanted and wanted.

Paige pulls back for air, biting at her lips that are completely covered in my slick. She spits on me with nothing but filth. Watching as the trail slips past the folds of my cunt and past my asshole, she blows on it, the cool air making me shudder and squeeze her hand even harder. 

“Oh! Keep going, baby. I can take it.” I groan, pulling her closer to my throbbing pussy.

“Gon’ take it just for me?” 

“For you, P. Just for you.” 

She suckles on my clit once more, “could die eating you, baby. Just fuckin’ perfect, Raye.” She pants. 

“Fuck,” I breathe, my head tipping back as Paige nudges her teeth around my clit, sucking hard, pinning her palm to my hips to hold me steady. “Paige, you—oh my God—”

Paige hums against my pussy, and the vibration sends a jolt of pleasure through me that makes me cry out, my hips bucking again. 

I can’t decide which was more overwhelming—the relentless pressure of her mouth, her eyes staring up at me, or the sheer dedication she put into it, like nothing else in the world mattered but getting me off.

Then her warm tongue was dipping into me for a second, fucking into me with precision, curling up in search of my spot. My hand flies to her hair, tugging the soft locks between my fingers, holding her face between my legs for a second. My legs shake warningly, that knot in my abdomen feels like it’s seconds away from snapping.

“You’re so fuckin’ good at this,” I manage, my voice breaking on the words as Paige’s eyes flutter shut while she all but made out with my cunt. “How are you so—shit—so good at this?”

Her chuckle vibrates through me, and the blonde pulls back to apply pressure to my clit with her fingers, licking her lips clean. “Ion think you want me to answer that, ma.”

She doesn’t even look at me, simply scissoring my folds apart and diving back into me. She’s right, I don’t want to know, so I let myself fall into her skilled tongue. My control slips, the confident front I’ve been trying to keep all day slipping into vulnerability. 

I gasp, squeezing her hand as tight as I could. My eyes roll once again, “P, I’m gonna—”

“Cum in my mouth, pretty,” Paige moans into me, her voice muffled but insistent, large and veiny hand pressing into my hip to keep me in place.

The words sent me tumbling over the edge. My entire body tensing and back arching off the bed as a wave of pleasure crashes over me, pulling a strangled moan from her lips. I swear the world went white for a moment, every nerve in my body alight with sensation. Paige laps it all up, my cum pooling on her tongue.

She fucks me through it, her tongue slowing down and sucking coming to a stop. When Paige looks at me, hair all mussed and lips swollen, chains and earrings still dancing in the light— I decide right there that this is actually the hottest she’s ever looked. All decorated in the aftermath of my sex. Looking like this for me.

She licks her lips clean before kissing from my thighs up my abdomen. She licks at my navel, tugging my piercing between her teeth. 

Paige continues up my body, suckling on the inside of my breast until another hickey forms, dark purple against the brown of my skin. “I’m gonna be livin’ between your legs from now on. Fuckin’ perfect.” She grins, leaning up to attach our lips.

I groan against her lips, pulling my hand away from hers to unbuckle the belt that holds her jeans. “You’re so good.” I praise, popping open the button on them. 

“Fuck you good?” She responds, helping me out and tugging down her jeans and her boxers simultaneously. “Needa feel you on me. Need that shit.”

I break the kiss, feeling my heart beat so harsh in my chest. I curl my fingers into the band of her bra, and Paige raises her arms to help me get it off. 

My eyes immediately fall to her chest, her supple tits and pink nipples. She’s breathtaking, and I want nothing more to wrap my lips around them and suck. I trail to her abs, practically shocked that a woman could look this fucking amazing in front of me. They dip even lower to her cunt which is positively soaked. 

I can’t help but grin because I know it’s all for me. “Come get it, baby.”

Before I know it Paige wraps her arms around my hips, mirroring my smile as she flips us over settling her back against the headboard as I straddle her.

It’s right then when I get to see all of her. Legs spread apart for me, so fucking wet that I swear we’re both about to leave this bed a dripping mess. Her thighs are so damn muscular.

I let my mind drift to what it would feel like riding them.

Paige grips my thighs, throwing my right leg over hers and slotting our legs together. My eyes go wide, watching my legs tremble with I don’t know what. Nervousness, excitement, arousal. 

“You okay? We don’t have to do anything else, I promise.” Paige looks up at me with crystalline blue eyes. Her hand running up and down my thigh, the other gripping my side and trailing her thumb over my rib tattoo.

“No, I want to.” I brush her off, looking down at how our cunts are slotted together, inches away from touching. 

Paige bites her lip, running a hand back to grip my ass and tug me closer. “Put that pussy on me then. Ride me, ma.” She instructs.

I’m nearly falling out at the raunchiness of her words. I’d be an idiot to not listen to her, especially when she looks at me like I’m a piece of meat.

I grip the edge of the headboard with one hand, the other gripping her shoulder as I roll my hips down to meet her cunt. I gasp at how fucking soaked she is against me. “Oh fuck, P.” I stutter, feeling her clit press up against me.

“You’re so damn pretty, Raye. Fuck— oh my God.” Paige’s head hits the headboard, a moan tumbling past her lips. Loud, and it’s easily the prettiest thing I’ve ever heard. “Look how fuckin’ wet you get for me, soakin’ me up, baby.”

Her hands grip my hips, forcing my hips back and forth against her, grinding my cunt against her in the exact rhythm she wants. 

“Oh. Oh—mmph—yeahhhh, baby. You feel so fucking good.” I whine, feeling that tension in my stomach, already overstimulated from my last orgasm.

Paige meets me halfway, bucking her hips up at me and I feel that inevitable connection that comes with the throb of her clit. “Shit. Shit, ma! This pussy fuckin’ perfect, baby.”

She’s matching my rhythm, fucking me back with fervent bucks of her hips. My nails dig into her shoulders, darting my head down to look at where we connected.

I’ve never in my life felt something this good before. It’s so intimate. The way she holds me and talks to me and feels every little thing that I’m feeling too. I don’t want to stop, I want to keep going, laying up with her all fucking night if I could.

“P—aige! ‘S so good, baby.” 

“Fuck!” She shouts. “So close. You’re doin’ fuckin’ amazing baby.” Paige encourages. She sends a slap to my ass and I keep going for that feeling. That look of euphoria and approval that makes me wanna ride her better and harder and faster. 

I’m louder than I’ve ever been before, growing closer and closer to that peak. “So wet, P.” I hiccup, my eyes glued to the wetness between the both of us, how I’m damn near slipping from how much she’s giving me.

“I know. Can hear it, angel.” Paige moans, digging her nails into the skin of my ass. “So messy, huh? Just creamin’ for me, Raye. Gonna make me cum.” 

“Baby.” I cry, throwing my head back as that same feeling from earlier returns. I think I might explode.

She reaches for my neck, squeezing her hand around my throat and I’m losing concentration. It’s so hard to stay focused when she’s choking me like that, pulling my attention back to her and her fucked out face. If it wasn’t for the pleasure I felt in my core I could’ve probably come from that alone.

“Gimme one.” She groans. “Cum with me, ma. Need that shit. Need that cum all over my pussy. We almost there, c’mon.”

“Oh my— fuck. Fuck!” A scream rips through my throat, and I’m following through, clutching my hand on hers around my neck. Paige’s mouth falls open, pretty, high pitched cries leaving her lips as we finish together. I think both of us saw stars.

I can’t even control the sounds that leave me, mewls and cries and curses that make me mimic a damn sailor. Between the both of us, I can only hope we don’t run into anyone else on her hotel floor because if they didn't hear me before, they definitely heard us just now. 

My legs shake and the second Paige releases my neck I’m trembling into her hold, feeling light-headed after drowning in pleasure like that. She wraps her arms around my waist, nestling her lips against my cheek as I catch my breath.

I can feel her heart beating against mine, her breathing mimicking my own. Her body is so warm against me, it’s a feeling that I never want to get rid of. I think I could spend the rest of forever like this, holding me and kissing me just like this.

I don’t even dare move my legs away from hers. Instead, I turn my head, kissing her in a suffocating kiss that she whimpers into before kissing me back, licking at my tongue and gripping my ass. 

“We’re doing that all the time, baby. Holy shit.” I sigh. Paige chuckles into my mouth, biting my lip and tugging it back.

She just knows exactly how to get me worked up, how to get my heart racing, my mind running in laps, and my cunt dripping for her. 

“Jus’ wait. Got so much more to teach you.”

—

“Swear, Imma knock you up one day.” I grumble in Raye’s ear, running my free hand over her tits and the hickeys I’ve made sure to leave there all night. She might have to wear a turtleneck to the All-Star game tomorrow night because there’s no way she’s gonna be able to cover them all.

She probably takes me for a joke. Which is fine. But in my head, if you got rid of all the anatomical inaccuracies that would make it physically impossible, I am certain that the way she’s been making me feel all night is more than enough for me to fuck her dumb and get her pregnant with my kid. That’s how fucking good she’s been.

“Prettiest fuckin’ tits. Swear.” I sigh in disbelief. Maraye is gorgeous. Has been since the second I laid eyes on her through the TV. Gorgeous in sweats and a stained t-shirt, in a floor length gown, in a mini skirt that gives so little to my imagination. But seeing her naked, like this, gets a reaction out of me that is anything but holy. 

Her back is hot and sweaty against my chest, soft groans escaping her mouth as my fingers toy with her clit from behind. 

The minute Raye stood in front of me, stripping her clothes and pushing her tits in my face. Her body glowing int the hotel light as she begged me to ‘teach her,’ I knew it was fucking game over.

I’ve made it my mission to make each experience worthwhile with everything I did to her tonight. Dragging her into the shower and letting her sink to her knees as she ate me out, I swear she was lying about having never done it before because she made me cum so hard I almost passed out. I took her again as soon as we got out, bending her over the sink and fucking my fingers so deep that she was squirting on the floor. 

She rode my abs when we got back in bed, covering them in her own cream and then shocking me by licking it all off. I decided then that I need her again and again and again, in every possible way that I could have her.

Which brings us to right now. I circle her clit over and over, splaying my other hand over her stomach and tucking my head into her neck to watch. Strings of her slick sticking to my fingertips that I pull back for her to see. 

“You been such a good girl for me tonight, takin’ everything I give you.” I coo against her skin. “My perfect angel.” I hum.

“Paige, just—mm— just like that.” I keep going, slow and deliberate circles because I know that anything else might send her thrashing against my body on the hotel chair.

“Yeah? You like that?” I whisper, kissing her neck in a much different manner than the one in which I’m touching her with. I spread her folds with my index and ring fingers, teasing her hole with my middle. “Don’t even need to get ‘em wet. You did it for me, ma.”

I sink my finger inside, relishing in the way she swallows up my whole finger and coats in arousal. Raye can take more, I know she can, I saw her take nearly my whole hand an hour ago. But I’m being gentle, so one is enough for now.

She tosses her head against my shoulder panting heavily, as if her throat won’t let her moan the way she wants to. She’s so damn soaked, the sound of my finger slowly sliding in and out bounces off the walls. I can feel it dripping out of her, down her ass and drenching my legs through my plaid boxers.

Raye curls her arm around my head, pulling me closer to her neck. I bite my lip, curling them deep inside into her spot. “Ah! Baby, baby! God, right there.” She squeals, digging her nails into my nape.

“You’re so damn beautiful, angel. Jus’ taking me so good.” I nod, holding her body as close as possible so I get that perfect look. That perfect view of her pretty cunt when I slip in a second finger.

That’s what gets her to thrash on my lap, attempting to shut her legs from me but I hold them open. Raye cries out my name, over and over and over again like a prayer. “Don’t fuckin’ stop. Please, m’ so close,” she moans.

“Stretchin’ you out so good, yeah? Gotta get you ready for me. Strap you so good when we get back. Do you so good, ma, I swear.” I speak gently.

I know her tells flawlessly now, how she lets her mouth fall open with nothing but choppy breaths passing into the air. How she grips on anything, eyes rolling into her skull. She’s close, about to make a mess on the last clean surface in the room but I don’t care.

Raye tips her head towards me, chasing my lips with her own. I let her, locking our lips in a slow kiss that feels just like the first time. Her tongue navigates my mouth, her teeth clashing with mine. She’s moaning haphazardly into my mouth, getting distracted by my fingers.

It fills me with a sense of pride I’ve never felt before.

“Wanna ruin it, Raye.” I groan, sucking her bottom lip before pulling back. “It’s mine, yeah?”

She nods rapidly, her legs shake and her moans make my ears ring. “Paige!” Maraye drags out my name, making me feel on top of the whole fucking world.

“This my pussy, ma? All me?”

“Shit. It’s y-yours. I promise.” I rut my fingers inside faster, attempting to ignore the sting in my arm. “I’m cumming, I’m cumming.” She hiccups. Her cunt squeezes me tight, and I know she’s right there.

“Gimme that shit, Raye. Make a mess for me, baby. I need that.” I murmur, “Y’know I’m right here. Just gimme that.” 

A cry tears through her mouth, the loudest she’s been all night. Raye’s eyes are glued shut and she’s coming again. I never want it to end, if it were up to me, I’d take her out on the balcony right now but I know her. She’s trembling.

I ease my fingers out slowly, wrapping my arm tighter around her waist and circling her clit to work her through it. 

When she finally comes down, her body trembling and her chest heaving, I don’t pull away immediately. I stay right where I am, gently kissing at her ear and mumbling sweet nothings. My touch softened as I helped Raye ride out the aftershocks.

“Fuck,” Raye finally breathes, her voice hoarse and unsteady. She lets out a breathless laugh, her hands falling to the sides of the armrests as she stares up at the ceiling in an attempt to find her thoughts again. “You ever fuck someone else like that, I swear to fucking God, I’ll kill you.”

I can’t help but grin against her skin. It’s completely Maraye, something only she could do after sex. She curls into hold, wrapping both arms around my neck and I let her, anything that lets me get her close like this. 

“You remember what I said about making you mine tonight?” I ask, tracing circles on her lower back.

She nods. “Is that not what you just did for the last four hours?” A breathy sigh escaping her mouth. 

“That’s not what I’m talking about.” I laugh. Suddenly all the air in my lungs is missing, the words I want to say getting lodged in my throat. Raye has this way of making me forget that I’m probably the most confident person on the planet. “I—um, I want you to be my girlfriend. Just me and you, Raye.”

I watch her eyes go wide as she tugs her t-shirt back over her exposed upper body. “Wh- you don’t think it’s too soon?”

“Do you?”

“No! No, I just, are you sure?”

“Am I sure that I want you as my girlfriend? Are you kidding?” I adjust her position in my lap, helping her get settled on my lap with her face to mine. She presses her palms on my bare chest, those eyes glued to mine with the slightest smile. “Yes. I want you. Only you, Raye. I don’t care if it’s too soon, ‘cause I’ve spent the last two and a half months waiting for you to be mine. I’m making you my girl. Who gives a fuck if it’s too s—”

She cuts me off without hesitation, I think I might go drunk from how many times she’s kissed me tonight. Raye starts with soft pecks, each one causing a groan to slip past me. “Yeah.”

“Mm– yeah what, angel?” I ask, smiling all against her lips. “Gotta say it.”

She breaks the kiss, smiling right back, all teeth and gums and I think she looks fucking beautiful. “Yes, Paige. I’ll be your girlfriend.”

—

September 2025 — London, England, United Kingdom 

“So, what’s your type?” Amelia asks me, popping a fry into her mouth. She sits across from me in this booth at Morley’s Chicken, cameras surrounding the both of us. “Y’know, other than blonde and pretty with blue eyes.”

I have to hold back my giggle, because this is her thing. She flirts with all her guests while also seemingly trying to get little bits of information from my life. That’s why I know she’s describing herself, and not the girlfriend that waits for me at home in LA.

Home. A place where love is nurtured and bloomed, a place that I now can only ever associate with Paige. She’s perfect, patient, communicative, funny, slightly annoying but in a way that makes her comfortable and charming. She’s my home now.

“That’s exactly my type, actually.” I nod, wrapping my lips around the straw of my fruit punch juice box. “To a T.”

“Really?” Amelia’s accent sticks out to me immediately, making me giggle. “What’s funny?”

“I like your accent.” I say. “But yea, that’s exactly my type.” I repeat, trying my hardest to fight the growing smirk on my lips. When this episode is edited and Paige sees it, I just know she’s going to be all smiles.

Amelia nods, a posh grin and an adorable shrug of her shoulders being sent my way. “Well obviously. You wouldn’t be on a date with me then, I suppose. You are just seeing me right?” She continues with the bit.

“Of course.”

I let my mind wander off to Paige the minute I say that. It’s early here, which means she’s probably asleep back in LA. Cuddled under the covers of my bed that is slowly becoming our bed. At the apartment with my name on it but clothes and shoes and snacks that could only belong to Paige. She’d woven her way into my life, into my home, into my music. So that even now, when I’m countries away, and talking about my music career, she’s all I can think about. Because there was nothing like being with Paige. 

And I got to call her mine.

All mine.

[letsbreakhearts]

Hello Trigun RPC

I add some muses from the latest Trigune anime adaptation Trigun Stampede: 

Vash the Stampede / the Humanoid Typhoon

Millions Knives / Nai 

Nicholas D. Wolfwood / The Punisher

Livio / The Double Fang 

Roberto De Niro

Meryl Stryfe

[nereidprinc3ss]

bambi

in which spencer reid and fem!reader fuck like they missed each other (because they always do) and he teases her for her shaky legs

18+ (smut) warnings/tags: softdom spencer, piv sex (riding, a first for nereidprinc3ss) /oral f receiving (in that order) mentions of him accidentally grabbing her hips too hard, slight somno SORT OF like he starts going down on her while she’s sleepy and then she kind of goes in and out but its all consensual, sorry haters i fucking love sleepy sex and I always will, teasing, lots of praise, fluffy, established relationship, he loves her badddd, aftercare, literally nothing bad happens no angst for once they just are having sex cause they are in love which is arguably the most superior kind of sex! a/n: I don’t think I’ve ever written smut that is so wham bam thank you ma’am like really we just get RIGHT into it!! also no gif no pics we r going old nereidprinc3ss on this one I hope you loveeee!!!

You roll over onto Spencer and kiss once, long and deep and sweet. He hums into it, too whipped to pretend like he’s got self control or respect, hands finding the soft skin of your bare waist and settling there. 

How it got to this point so quickly, no more than fifteen minutes after he walked through the door, you can’t say. Usually the two of you are a bit more domestic when he gets home from a case, but eight days is a long time to be apart, and the trail of clothing leading from the welcome mat to the foot of the bed attests to that. 

So does the lack of teasing, of begging—at least, a lack up until this point. Right now, there’s only him, patient and content to let you play at being in charge. You pull back and reach down to grab him gently, aligning him at your entrance with a trembling hand. This part, you’re not usually responsible for. 

He assures you with a hand to the small of your back, rubbing soothing circles. “You got it. Slowly.”

You do as he says, brow furrowing in focus as you sink down an inch or two onto him. Spencer’s breathing grows erratic as you take more and more of him, and in a heroic display of overachieving, you take the rest of him at once with nothing but a squeak. He laughs breathily as his fingers dig into your hips. 

“Fuck—I said slow.”

You can’t think. The overwhelm of it all is too much as you crumple forward onto his chest. The subtle rocking you’re doing to try and alleviate some of the pressure in your core is apparently too much as he stops you by the hips, fingers pressing into those same tender spots.

Spencer’s breath is ragged. “Don’t… do not move.”

“Fuck,” you breathe into his shoulder, long and drawn out as despite his wishes you wriggle around, trying to get comfortable. “Oh my god.”

“My lovely girl, please… please don’t move,” Spencer gasps, a plead, and you try to stop for him, nuzzling even deeper against his neck. “I need a minute.”

“It’s too much,” you slur, dizzy as you try to adjust to the feeling. “Please.” You don’t know what you’re asking for. Maybe relief from the sensation that he can’t offer you. Maybe more. 

Spencer is undone by you—the way you writhe on top of him, the way your voice shakes, the way you’re so totally and completely overwhelmed and he can feel it and he loves it. 

“Baby,” he breathes, and he meant to say a lot more than that, but it’s the best he can manage when he is this overstimulated. “Baby,” he whispers again, wrapping his arms around you in an effort to ground you, to give you something else to focus on as you both get used to the feeling. 

It’s going well—for a moment, before your back is arching. 

“Spence, I need to move, I can’t—”

“Okay, okay.” He takes a deep breath, returning his hands to your waist and mentally preparing himself not to cum early. He’s desperate to give you want you want, to feel you like this. “Go ahead. Move, honey. Please.”

By the time you slowly lift your hips up and drop back down with a low cry, Spencer’s lost. His head falls back against the pillow and his eyes squeeze shut. 

“Fuck,” he groans. “Oh, angel, I missed you.”

You do it again, motivated by his praise, and he can hear your little gasps and desperate gulps of air. 

“I missed you so much,” you whine and clench around him, pleasure so intense it’s a resounding ache in the far reaches of your body. “Oh, fuck, Spencer.”

Spencer shivers. He loves when you make it personal, when you say his name like that and it becomes clear this isn’t just about the physical.

“My girl. Just like that. Doing so well, baby, just like that.”

Each pass of your hips has you whining. Your lips skim over his neck, not cognizant enough to actually kiss—only to know that you want the contact. 

“Please can I go faster?”

Spencer almost doesn’t realize you’re speaking to him he’s so lost in pleasure. The idea of faster is as compelling as it is troublesome. Spencer doesn’t know if he can’t take faster, not when he has you like this, but he certainly wants to find out. 

“Yeah, lovely. Do whatever feels good.”

You readjust and begin to pick up the pace, stumbling over a few false starts as it’s clearly more sensation than you’d been prepared for. 

Spencer, on the other hand, has his eyes screwed shut tight, and is attempting to draw a two-dimensional Császár polyhedron on your back, but he loses his place with every twitch of your hips, so eventually he decides to trace imperfect Mandelbrots down your spine—anything to avoid thinking about how the pH of your body interacts with sweet vanilla perfume to create a scent so deeply intoxicating he’d leave his entire life behind just to trail after it, or how you fucking feel against him, on top of him, around him, how miraculous it is that you keep letting him touch you—

“Oh—” you whine quietly, a strangled sort of noise that has his heart skipping. Your hand tangles desperately in his hair as you rock your hips faster and faster and he lets out a tortured groan. “Spencer, oh my fucking god.”

“I know, baby,” he manages, endeared by the fact that you feel so good you have to share it with him. Even now you’re trying to explain it because you want him to be part of it—as if he doesn’t know exactly what you’re feeling already. “That feels good, huh?”

“Mm—f—eels—” you cut yourself off with a cry into the crook of his neck, and he holds the back of your head, vision greying as he stares unseeing at the ceiling because if he looks down this’ll be over too soon. 

“You’re so good,” he breathes, “you’re perfect.”He hears you gasp at the same time as your rhythm falters, and presses a kiss somewhere indiscriminately on your head. “Gonna cum?” He murmurs in your ear, and you nod desperately, rutting against him hopelessly as your thighs tremble from exertion. 

Even the smallest drop-off in friction has his head spinning like he stood up too quickly, so he gives himself enough leverage to start fucking you. You cry out and shift your weight like you’re going to try and evade the feeling—self-sabotage, you always do this—and he again has to hold your hips in an iron vice, just to force you to feel it. 

“You’re okay, I’m gonna get you there.”

“Fuck!” You very nearly yell, still trying to wriggle away up until the very last second like the tide going out before the tsunami comes. When you do cum, your demeanor instantly changes—you get heavy and clingy and whiny as you rock back and forth through your orgasm. 

“Good girl,” Spencer murmurs, being careful in the way he continues to fuck you until he reaches his peak as well, not long after. You shudder, and Spencer feels the way your entire body tenses the way it sometimes does after a particularly strong orgasm, and he fights his way out of the brain fog to rub your back with the skimming tips of his fingers. “Shh. You’re okay. Relax, baby.”

And you do, unwound by the dance of his hand and with a few shallow breaths that gradually deepen, until you’re once more slack on top of him. 

“You’re incredible,” he exhales, with his lips pressed to your hairline. 

So clearly overwhelmed, the only response you can muster is a soft squeak. Spencer laughs fondly, still mapping the soft curve of your back. He feels the way you’re still attempting to train your breathing and kisses your hair again. “What do you need, angel?”

“I’m s’posed to be taking care of you,” you slur. Spencer chuckles again and his brow knits. 

“According to who?”

“According to… I was on top…”

“Yeah. You did all the hard stuff. Your legs are shaking.”

You whine softly. “No they’re not.”

His hand slides down to your thigh, and he rubs the trembling muscles. 

“No? No Bambi legs for me this time?”

You squeeze them around his waist like you could shrink away from his touch. “Spence…”

“I’m teasing you, honey,” he murmurs, pressing kisses wherever he can reach. “You’re cute.”

“Hm.”

“Look at me,” he murmurs, angling his head expectantly as you slowly raise yours. The look on your face is so sweet—eyes half lidded, lips swollen and much higher in color than usual. Your cheek is warm to the touch. His heart flutters like it did on your first date, and the first time he kissed you, and the first time you fell asleep on his shoulder. This view will never get old. “Wow. Look at you, beautiful girl. Can I have a kiss?”

And you grant him his wish, with a long, soft kiss that’s worth every second of that burning feeling in his lungs, every time. 

Eventually you huff out the remainder of your air against his well-kissed lips and your head flops to his chest. 

“I’m sleepy.”

“So go to sleep,” he murmurs, so warm from your kiss he feels nothing could be wrong in the world at this moment. 

“I can’t.”

“Why’s that?”

“’Cause you just got home ’nd I missed you and I wanna spend time with you.”

“We have three days to spend together. If you go to sleep now, we’ll actually get more time together tomorrow.”

“But it’s more about, like, how it feels—how much time it feels like we spend together right when you get home, and if I go to sleep now, it’s gonna feel like less time, and—basically you’re just not understanding my math.”

“What math?” He laughs, continuing to rub your legs all the way up to your hips, at which point you hiss and buck—a very visceral feeling when he’s still inside of you. “What? What hurts?”

“You tried to fucking tear my hip flexors from my body, is what hurts,” you grumble. 

“Tender?”

“Mhm.”

“I’m really sorry, angel. Tylenol?”

“Mm-mm. Can you kiss me better?” Sleep stains your voice. Spencer smiles to himself. 

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.”

“Lie down.”

Again you whine as you slip off of him, landing heavily on your back. He sits up, watches with so much affection the way you squeeze your thighs together and arch ever so slightly against the empty feeling. 

“Spencer?” You whisper as he cups the top of your knees. 

“Hm?”

“I love you.”

He pushes your legs apart gently so he can settle in between them and kisses you again. “I love you. So much.”

“Glad we’re on the same page.”

He presses a kiss to your head, down your neck, taking the scenic route to your hip bones, but you don’t seem to mind. 

The feeling of his lips gentle on the tender flesh has you humming softly, eyes fluttering shut as he showers you with gentle kisses. His traces every place his fingers had pressed earlier—feels the way you relax further underneath him. Nobody’s ever let him in this deeply before, but you trust him with everything you have; your body, your soul, in life or death, awake and in sleep. He’ll never take that for granted. He will never pass on an opportunity like this, to be the one who takes care of you, who puts you back together, as long as you’ll let him. 

Still dancing the line of consciousness, you part your legs, the slow drag of your bare thigh like a jumper cable to his heart. Fingertips trace desirous paths up your inner thigh and back down again. He recognizes this invitation for what it is, and he knows exactly how to give you what you want, but he asks first anyway. 

“Was that on purpose?”

“I d’know what you mean. I’m so sleepy,” you slur, and he believes the second half of your statement to be fact. 

Spencer pushes your thigh a little higher, and you’re completely pliable for him, completely gorgeous. As soon as he skims your thigh with a barely-there kiss, exactly the way you like, you’re lacing a hand in his hair. 

“Please, Spence…” you murmur, and he can’t argue with that. He especially can’t argue when you widen your legs just that slightest bit more, and your arousal is opalescent between your legs. 

He hums, trailing more kisses up until he’s setting the softest one yet against your clit. “Beautiful girl…”

The following gasp is so tiny he could’ve missed it if he wasn’t so attuned to your noises—and then he gets lost in you, making sure to keep his ministrations light as you already came twice recently and are sure to be sensitive. He doesn’t want to wake you from whatever twilight half-slumber trance you’re in, either, sensing that if he does you’ll fight all over again to stay up.

And admittedly, he adores being trusted to take care of you like this.

Your back arches as much as you’re capable of in this state, and he can’t help the way he just barely suctions onto you at that moment, coaxing a sighing moan so sweet and vulnerable and open it gives him chills. Fuck. He really wants to make you cum. But instead he practices patience, tracing you with the tip of his tongue, pressing gentle kisses everywhere you need them—he draws it out. For he doesn’t know how long. 

The first time you get close, your hips begin to roll, and you spout little ah’s, but he talks you back down again, laughing lightly at your angelic cooing, your little sounds of sleepy pleasure. Even now you’re so responsive, moving against his mouth as he slips a finger into your soaked entrance, fucks you for a moment, and then retreats. Maybe he’s being unfair, but you don’t seem to mind. 

In fact, you’re slipping in and out of sleep as he devours you for what feels like hours, one hand pressed lovingly to your stomach, stroking the soft skin there. Spencer’s never had this long to explore you with his mouth and he takes full advantage of every moment, but he keeps all his kisses and licks and touches gentle and reverent and so loving. 

You don’t know how long it’s been, or how many times he’s made you cum when he finally retreats—you half-wake just as he’s finishing cleaning you up. Soon he tosses the towel aside and presses feather-light kisses to each of your cheeks, tear-stained and warm with pleasure. You feel completely drained and completely loved. 

“Hi, sleeping beauty,” he murmurs, climbing into bed with you, at some point having gotten dressed. 

You manage an embarrassed little laugh. More tears crawl down your cheeks as you roll to your side. Spencer brushes them away and pulls you into him, slinging your thigh over his waist. He chuckles. 

“Shaky?”

“Stop,” you whine, embarrassed by his teasing, and hide your face against his chest. “That’s not my fault.”

“It’s nobody’s fault. It’s sweet,” he insists as he rubs your back. And then, a moment later, “So—do you think we’ve spent enough time together for tonight?”

“No.”

He sighs good-naturedly. 

“You’re gonna wear me out, you know that?”

“’F you… can’t handle the heat… get outta the kitchen.”

When he next speaks you can hear the smile in his voice. 

“Go to sleep, Bambi. Let’s see if you can walk in the morning.”

[thargelalia]

Comrade Red Hood

jason todd x fem!reader

patriarchy sucks, thankfully your doting nerdy boyfriend is there to show you support

-> 3k words

-> fluff, hurt/comfort, tiniest bit suggestive

-> warnings: talks of v!olence and crime (c'mon, guys, it's Gotham); mansplaining (not by Jason); reader is a little mean, but she's only human; Jason is a serial kisser and we love that for him

“Are you upset?” 

“Yes.” 

“…is it something I did?” 

“Not everything’s about you.”

Jason’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline as he lets out a low whistle at your sharp words. “Damn. I thought I was supposed to be the broody one here.”

“Getting a taste of your own medicine sometimes is good.”

Silence.

“Sure you’re not mad at me?”

“I’m beginning to.” You let out a deep frustrated sigh, massaging your temples in a futile attempt to stop the incessant throbbing headache. “What do you want, Jason?” 

“I was just—is there anything I can do for you?” He asks, shifting weight between his legs. “You seemed a bit off over the phone earlier, so I decided to drop by.”

“I just want to be alone.” You sound less passive aggressive this time as exhaustion seeps into your words. ”My head is killing me right now, so I just had an aspirin. I’ll be fine.”

“Okay. I’ll be in the living room if you need me.” Since it’s dark and your eyes are glued to the ceiling, you’re unable to take in the dejected look on his face. 

Seeing you’ve got no objections — he kind of hoped you’d change your mind and ask for cuddles — Jason leaves the room wordlessly. It’s almost like he vanishes into thin air. A well-known skill amongst all bat-family members.

Even so, he’s surprisingly light on his feet for a big guy. But then again, we’re talking about a walking deadly weapon. A vicious vigilante. The prince of Gotham. Red Hood.

Or at least that’s what he usually is when he’s not sulking in the living room for being a victim of his girlfriend’s sour mood. 

Aside from the sound of a car or two passing by down below, and police sirens echoing distantly on occasion, your place is engulfed in a comfortable silence — this a relatively quiet neighborhood. Moonlight filters through your half-open curtains, a soft welcoming breeze swaying them gently to the side. 

At some point, your eyes flutter open. You don’t even remember falling asleep. There’s a dryness to your throat, prompting you to move around and reach for a slim water bottle on the nightstand. Next to it, the digital clock reads 2:17 AM. 

A five hour nap. Nice. 

Fortunately, the pounding inside your head has subsided.

Tsking in disappointment, seeing the bottle is empty, you detangle your legs from the sheets, begrudgingly getting up and dragging yourself to the kitchen. 

The lights in the living room are still on, making your eyes squint when you approach the entrance. You’re confused to discover Jason still lounging on the couch with a book in his hands, legs spread deliciously wide. One of his feet is propped against the edge of the coffee table.

“Thought you were still out on patrol.” 

He looks up, and blinks, not expecting to see you up. “Just got back, actually. About fifteen minutes ago or so, I think.”

You hum in response and take a moment to really observe him. 

His hair is still indeed damp as it falls over his forehead. He’s also shirtless, only dressed in gray sweatpants. Took him quite a long time to feel comfortable enough to show skin like this around you. Likewise, despite the smile that your reassurances bring to his face whenever you thank him for ‘blessing your eyes with such a delectable sight’, sometimes he still gets antsy if they linger too long on his scars. So, you try to respect his limits while also making sure he knows he’s incredible and beautiful. 

There are also beads of sweat accumulated on his bare chest and neck. Despite having just showered, his body is still overheated from Red Hood’s intense activities, you notice. 

No injuries in sight tonight, thank goodness. But if there were, though, he probably wouldn’t be here. He’d still rather agonize in pain alone in his apartment than letting his medical resident girlfriend tend to him. You’re still trying to ingrain into his stubborn mind that his health will never be a disturbance to you. He will never be a disturbance to you.

Hm, though he kinda was a little bit earlier before. However, that wasn’t his fault. Nor yours, for that matter.

As if on cue, his question breaks you out of your reverie.

“Feeling better?” You nod in affirmation and he gives a sweet smile. “Good. You should eat, baby. I got you something on my way back. It’s in the kitchen.”

You mirror his smile and resume your steps to the kitchen where there’s a white medium-sized paper bag sitting on the counter. 

Dismantling crime and wreaking havoc around Gotham, just to later on pick up food to appease his moody girlfriend back home. 

Isn’t that so cute? 

After drinking your fill of cool water, you grab the food bag, a plate – to avoid crumbs dirtying the floor – and return to the living room to eat in Jason’s company. He’s still engrossed in his book. Or rather, yours. Your small library is now his, but so is his yours. It’s an unspoken agreement.

“I didn’t know Mr. Abdul’s place stays open so late.” You say thoughtfully, munching on a falafel. Jason also got you a fattoush salad, hummus, and some pita bread. Yummy. 

You’re sitting on opposite ends of the couch, legs on a pillow in his lap, while his forearms rests on top of them. He’s hunched forward in concentration on the pages in front of him.

“It doesn’t.” Without looking, Jason steals one falafel from the bag and pops it into his mouth. “I broke into his kitchen.“

You choke on a piece of pita bread. “What the f-”

“Relax. I left the money on the counter.” 

“Are you fucking kidding me??” He talks about it so casually. Almost like he’s done this before. “Wait. So, the cookies from Elena’s last time…”

“Well, that one’s obvious.” Successfully blocking a pillow chucked at his face, he rushes to defend himself, “BUT I never forget to pay, so technically I’m not stealing! Only billionaires are harmed here, I swear.”

You both know which particular billionaire he has in mind.

“Right. Keep telling yourself that, Robin. Hood.” You scoff, picking up the fattoush salad box, opening its lid and picking through vegetables with a plastic fork. Jason’s mouth opens in surprise. “Pun intended, by the way.” 

“Whatever.” He huffs with an eye roll, trying to conceal his amusement. To make a point, he raises the open book to his face and blocks your view of him, ignoring you completely. 

As you silently chew on radishes and lettuce, you take a minute to inspect what he’s reading. It’s a considerably thick book. Zeroing in the letters of the cover, your eyes widen in shock as you swallow. 

“Jason, is that—you’re reading The Capital?”

“Yeah, why?” He questions back, nonchalantly, lowering the book just past his eyes.  “You think I only read fiction?” 

“I guess… but I only asked because I think it’s an odd choice of reading given your night.” You explain, gathering the empty food containers, placing them inside the paper bag and setting it aside on the coffee table. “Aren’t you supposed to be tired?” 

“Of fighting against oppressive systems? Absolutely.” He quips, a playful smirk on his face. “This guy just gets me, you know?” 

Seeing the unimpressed look on your face, his smile dies down and he places the book down on the armrest. “I got an extra adrenaline rush while chasing Penguin’s goons this time. There were dozens of them ‘cause he was closing an important arms deal at a warehouse tonight.. Remember that time when we were watching a documentary about wolves, and it was showing how packs tend to slaughter entire flocks of sheep when they’re unable to escape from a confined space?”

“Is that your way of telling me you were in a… kill frenzy?” You swallow hard, trying not to sound too alarmed, but the distant look in his eyes accompanied by his eerie tone and word choice is unsettling. Even though you're well aware he doesn’t pose a danger to you.

Jason seldom shares the details about his gruesome Red Hood business with you. One, because he knows you already see too much violent shit while working at the hospital. 

Two, he knows you worry about his safety. 

Three, there’s also the fact that he’d like to keep a sense of normalcy at home. 

Four, and most importantly, he believes it’s best if you don’t access his dark side, but sometimes – like right now – he’s unable to conceal it. At the end of the day, he’s only someone fighting their shadows like any other. 

Although, his are evidently a bit more obscure and jarring. 

There’s a pregnant pause before he finally breaks out of his trance with a shake of his head. Taking in your tense posture and concerned face, he softens his demeanor, reaching for one of your hands. One, two, three kisses delivered to the tip of your fingers and he’s pulling you to sit straddling his legs. Calloused palms start rubbing the top of your thighs in reassurance back and forth. 

“Don’t worry, baby. I didn’t shoot to kill..uh, mostly.” There’s no way of telling if he’s being sincere, and, frankly, you’d rather not think about this. As usual, he’s attuned to your senses, and tries to lighten the conversation up. “Anyways, I was still feeling charged when I got back. That’s why I picked one of your brainy books to help me wind down. Since your Sociology shelf was right in my line of sight, I decided to give it a try… Oh, I just remembered I forgot to bring you my French copy of Madame Bovary again.” 

“Hm, it’s fine. I’ll borrow it next time I’m at your place. But, back to my books. Why do I feel like this isn’t a first time thing? I did find some of my Sociology books misplaced a couple of weeks ago,” you complain. “Glad you’re having fun tackling dialectical materialism as a post-vigilante workout, but please make sure you put my books in order once you’re done.” 

“So bossy.” He playfully tuts, adding a nip to your shoulder. Then you feel his lips trace a slow path up to your neck, leaving a slow deliberate kiss there. “And so pretty, too.”

He smiles mischievously, lips still attached to your skin, as you shudder. 

Devious bastard.

Crossing your arms, you try not to blush and keep your voice steady. “I mean it, Jason.”

“Alright, alright. I’ll mind your precious organization.” He follows his promise with a chaste kiss, this time to your lips. “But seriously, you do look pretty.” 

“What, out of a sudden?” You raise your eyebrows in amusement. 

Jason prides himself in being a skillful liar. It often comes in handy. 

But he most definitely is not the type to give empty compliments. 

Especially not to the most precious person of his life. 

And you’re aware of that. His eyes don’t lie.

There’s that deep candid warmth swirling within those mesmerizing irises that just captures you whole. They remind you of the ocean, colors of a fine line between blue and green, like teal. Sometimes calm and serene, sometimes agitated and raging. 

One thing is sure. You’re the only person who gets to soak into the tranquil waters hidden amidst the windows of his soul. 

Because you’re the only one capable of bringing them out. 

“Nah, I always think that when I see your face.” Comes his reply.

At that, more kisses ensue. Obviously.

First one is yours, molding your lips to his in an instant as you try to return his incessant devotion with eagerness. He wastes no time in reciprocating, mouth slightly parting to welcome your tongue inside. It makes your head fuzzy all over. Every single fucking time. This type of intimacy took almost as long to construct as the display of his body. You’re never taking his trust for granted. Never. Soon enough, Jason discovered himself to be a great fan of kissing. You. He’s done it before with other people, sure, but it didn’t make him feel like this. Yearn like this. As if he depended on it to survive. And he might as well do. Your fingers find their way to his scalp, tangling in silky locks and pulling while trapping his lower lip between your teeth, eliciting a soft groan from him. As a result, he grips your hips harder, drawing you impossibly closer. The heat from his bare muscular chest is scorching, almost too much to bear as it seeps through your shirt – his shirt. 

You two only break apart because he decides to now trail his lips downward, leaving you panting, eyes sealed shut in pleasure, as he works his mouth across every other available patch of your skin. From jaw to neck, and shoulder. And back up.

This time his ministrations are sweeter and more tender, making you melt completely into his embrace. 

Finally sated, after delivering a last kiss behind your ear, he whispers softly and a little breathless, “Wanna share now why you almost bit my head off a few hours ago, hm?” 

Watching your face fall when he pulls back, his heart equally drops, causing him to backtrack, “S’okay, baby. You don’t have to tell me. I’m sorry.”

You exhale shakily, glancing down to fiddle with the hems of your – his – shirt. A hand cups your cheek, and tilts your head upwards carefully, thumb brushing the soft skin back and forth. Molten blue-green irises coaxing you to relax like the gentle sway of the sea. Telling he’s trusty and willing to listen.

“No, it’s just… ugh…” He waits patiently as you gather your thoughts. “I had to deal with one of my stupid professors mansplaining to me during my presentation today. A subject that I’ve been studying for years now. I knew what I was talking about and he acted as if I didn’t, saying that I didn’t use the concepts correctly like I was a child. Some of my colleagues told me I shouldn’t take his words personally, but it fucking sucked. Still does. I hate it when people, especially men, undermine my intelligence. I just felt so frustrated, I went to the bathroom and cried when the presentation ended. And to top it off, I got a miserable headache on the way home. So yeah, that’s why I was in such a shitty mood tonight. I’m sorry I took it out on you…” 

While describing what happened and venting about your feelings, you barely registered the way his arms tensed around you or how a muscle in his jaw ticked. There’s really no mistaking the look on his face now. The dark stormy blue that has replaced the soothing sea green. “Jason, no. Promise me you won’t do anything stupid.”

“He upset you.” Your boyfriend states in a clipped tone. “He made you cry.” 

“No matter how tempting, you can’t just fuck up every single guy that gets on my nerves.”

“I beg to differ.”

“Jace.” You beg, exasperated. “Please. That’s not what I need right now, okay? He was being an asshole, yes, but the academy, and the whole world, is crowded with them unfortunately. Most of the time, I can handle it just fine. But, today was different. I’ve been preparing for my presentation for days, so he caught me by surprise with his arrogance and my anxiety kinda escalated, I guess. What I mean is I didn’t tell you this because I wanted you to avenge me. I just want to be understood. Can’t you do that for me?” The sight of tears filling your wide eyes dilute his outrage instantly. You’re engulfed in a tight comforting hug.

“Of course, baby. I’ll never feel the same as you ‘cause I’m not a woman, but you must know I’m here for you and I’m sorry you had to deal with this.” He offers, sympathetically, before something darker twists his features again. “I won’t lie to you, though. It’d be easy for me to rip that fucking bastard’s tongue—”

“Jason.”

“—and feed it to his mouth until he chokes—”

“Jason.” 

He puts a finger to your mouth to silence you, just to pull back immediately before it gets bitten off.

“—but I won’t do that.” Not today at least, he keeps this last part to himself. “My point is a brilliant woman like you will always be a threat to insecure fuckers like him. Bet he’s just jealous he’ll never shine as bright as you do.”

You throw your arms around his neck, burying your face in it with a sniffle. “I love you.”

“I love you too. A lot.” Nuzzling into your hair, he inhales the soft scent of jasmine shampoo. “Feeling okay?”

“Yes. Thank you.” You really are. But, then, you sigh wistfully. “I’m thinking if I were an Amazon, it’d probably be easier to deal with this type of situation.”

“How so?” He tilts his head, confused.

“You know… I’d be strong, powerful... intimidating. Stuff like that.” 

“You already wield your intellect like the sharpest blade I’ve ever seen. Your words are eloquent and sharp when you stick up for what you believe. Not to mention the way you carry yourself with confidence even when you’re in a room filled with strangers.” He tucks a lock of hair behind your ear, speaking earnestly. “Trust me, sweetheart. You don’t need to be an Amazon when you’re already a goddess.” 

“That’s… wow… I wasn’t expecting that.” The butterflies are throwing a fucking rave in your stomach. You just can’t stop grinning, so you playfully hit his shoulder. “Never knew you could be so sappy.” 

He catches your wrist delicately, not missing the opportunity to turn it and plant his lips on your knuckles.

“That’s all on you. You turned me into this.” He claims, placing your open palm over his heart, and holding it there. It’s beating quite rapidly. Like yours is. “Take responsibility, woman.” 

“Fine,” you concede with a playful eye roll. Guilty as charged, your honor. “But, seriously, thank you. Your words mean a lot.”

“You mean a lot to me. Don’t ever forget that.” One, two, three pecks to his lips. You discover you really love kissing him as well. 

Suddenly, he’s covering his mouth with a yawn. Outside, Gotham’s black heaven is starting to get tinged with pink and yellow, announcing the sun’s impending arrival. Soon the streets around your building will have people going out about their day. Unbeknownst to them, one of the guys responsible for their safety sleeps tucked in your bed right around the corner. 

“We should probably sleep.” Jason begins, effortlessly getting up in a swift motion while still holding onto you. Your legs wrap around his waist as he walks you two to the bedroom. “I already lost way more brain cells than intended. Gotta save some for Mary Wollstonecraft tomorrow.”

“You’re such a dork.”

“And you need to get woke,” he taunts.

“These are my books!” You counter, indignantly. 

“Ours. Don’t be so individualistic, baby. That’s why capitalism—” Not letting him finish, you jump off his arms and go into the bathroom as he trails behind like a lost puppy.

“Yeah, yeah, I get it, comrade Red Hood. Now shut your revolutionary mouth, and let’s get ready for bed.”

thanks for reading, and please reblog if you enjoyed it <33

feel free to share your thoughts, i'd love to hear them!

this is where i got the dividers

[thevillainswhore]

New Tricks

Pairing: Virgin!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Word Count: 9.5k

Summary: After your brother has to cancel movie night, you’re ready to resign yourself to an uneventful evening back at your dorm, alone and dejected. But what you didn’t count on, is your brother’s best friend and roommate, bursting through the door and asking you to stay; to spend the night with him, instead

What unfolds, however, while you spend time with the star football player, both shocks and astounds you — one confession in particular. 

Bucky Barnes, the Prince Charming of campus, the man you have been crushing on for an eternity, is a virgin.

Warnings: first kisses, fluff, smut, grinding, making out, big brother!steve, college!bucky, shy bby bucky, mutual pining, swearing, pet names, huge ton of reassurances, lots of praise, big hints of subby bucky

Author’s Note: beta’d by my baby @rookthorne

Okay, so where to start with this… the idea for this fic sprung from a certain someone 👀 and I just had to write it. Thank you to my girl for being a huge support through this, I love you 💗

These two have my whole heart and who knows? Maybe more will come of them 😌 for all my playlist lovers, you’re welcome - new tricks playlist ❤️

New Tricks Masterlist

I hope you enjoy this as much as I’ve loved creating it 🥹

Standing outside of your brother’s apartment, your impatience starts to wane thin. For ten whole minutes, you have been waiting for Steve to open up. And knocking like a crazed woman is beginning to get old; so is waiting on the doorstep to his front door. 

“Oh, for–” You grumble, and you lift your arm up to bang against the door for the umpteenth time,  when your hand misses it entirely, owing to the fact it swings open to admit you with such enthusiasm, it creaks and threatens to bounce back off of the wall.  

Bucky — your brother’s roommate, best friend, and your crush — sheepishly smiles and scratches the back of his neck. 

The line of his shoulders slump when he lowers his arm, and you notice (and appreciate) just how broad and muscled he is. He must have just been working out, or you interrupted him — nonetheless, you’re thankful for the sight before you, and how it makes the crush you harboured for the brunette for years roar to life all over again. 

Excellent, you inwardly sigh.

“Buttercup,” Bucky says — the affectionate nickname born from his sappy personality always makes you swoon, and his hesitant smile morphs into a wide one. You’re left fighting  internally to keep your giddiness at the sight of him to a respectable level.  “Hey, you. Sorry I didn’t hear you; I was listening to music.” 

Your gaze continues up to his hair, finding it tied back with an elastic at the nape of his neck.  Oh, how you wished you could run your hands through–

“Hey, you okay?” he asks, furrowing his brows. 

Embarrassment floods you and you realise far too late that he probably has asked you a question, or several, while you were daydreaming. “Sorry, Buck,” you squeak, praying that the heat crawling up your neck was not as obvious as it felt. “What was that?”

His soft, puppy-eyed expression brightens when you meet his gaze. “It’s fine, doll. Everything okay?” 

No matter how badly you want to stand and unashamedly stare at your brother’s best friend and roommate, your true intention behind your visit comes to mind. 

“Can I come in?” you ask, lifting the bag of snacks you brought up higher. Bucky’s eyes glance down at the bag, and then back up to your face. “Stevie planned our movie night and he isn’t answering his phone — I told him I was on my way and I asked him if he wanted anything else.” 

The confusion that creases Bucky's brows and downturns his lips in a small frown makes you narrow your eyes. 

“Surely he didn’t forget,” you accuse, still staring into Bucky’s face. “I make the trip down from campus every two weeks. It’s been two weeks.” A sudden, encompassing guilt fills Bucky’s eyes, and he starts to worry his bottom lip with his teeth — a sight far too hard to ignore. “Why are you looking at me like that?” 

“Um– I just–” Bucky stutters, and you watch as his fingers twitch and fidget — a nervous tic. If he didn’t look cute while stumbling over his words, you would feel sorry for being so blunt. “I just thought that– Uh, I thought it was cancelled. The movie night, I mean.” 

You step forward slightly, and Bucky opens the door wider. A wordless invitation. 

Bucky rushes to clear a space on the entryway coat rack for you, when he suddenly says, “You know, because of his date, an’ all.” His words falter at the look you shoot him. You stop taking off your coat, and you drop the bag of snacks to the floor, ignoring the crinkle and rustle of plastic. 

“What do you mean date, Barnes?” The use of his last name causes a flush of deep red to pattern his cheeks, but you don’t let up. There’s music playing from down the hall of the apartment – right where Steve’s bedroom is. “What’s going on?” 

Bucky skittishly fidgets and glances around the apartment, before meeting your heated gaze. “I– Look, I didn’t know–” 

You silently mouth a curse, beyond frustrated with your older brother, and with yourself for taking just a second to indulge and admire just how sweet Bucky is when he is unsure. “Fine,” you huff, and you turn to walk straight towards the source and to investigate it yourself.

Bucky’s frantic footsteps behind you don’t deter your haste. “Wait, stop — Buttercup, wait!”

Forgoing a courtesy knock — having had enough of banging on his front door — you barge straight into the room with as little as a greeting call or warning. 

“What the shit–“ 

The door to Steve’s bedroom slams against the wall, and you come face to face with the blond in the middle of a dance off with himself in the mirror. “Sis! Hey,” he gasps, holding his hand over his heart in fright. “What’re you doing–?” 

In lieu of an answer, you cross your arms and stare at him, unimpressed and exasperated with his antics. “Don’t you hey sis me.” The fear in Steve’s eyes as you stomp towards him almost vindicates your indignation of being uninformed. “What do you mean you’re going on a date? It’s movie night!” 

Steve has the decency to look ashamed. “Flower, I swear, I’m sorry,” he rambles, and he takes your hand, directing you to sit down on his bed. “I would’ve called to let you know but everything was so last minute.” 

The grip he has on your hand is firm, assuring you of his true intentions, even when he turns the Roger’s charm up to an eleven to worm his way back onto your good side. “I swear sis, I wouldn’t bail on you without a good reason.”

“Okay,” you say, staring into his face — still not wholeheartedly convinced of his graces. A line of questioning is in order, you decide. “So, who is this good enough reason?”

“Natasha Romanoff.” The dreamy, love-struck sigh that leaves Steve’s lips after her name is uttered has you reluctantly trying to hide your giggle; the righteous anger and frustration slowly leaves your body in his admittance.  

The fact that he has been obsessed with the college’s most popular redhead since forever, was a balm to the annoyance. You truly did feel happy for him underneath it all. 

And, in the end, it’s how you decide to let him off the hook — though not without teasing him, first. “No way, the Natasha Romanoff? How the hell have you managed that one?” 

Steve pushes your shoulder, and the force of his shove knocks you sideways onto the covers of his bed. “Fine,” you grouse, sighing heavily and resigning yourself to a night on your own. “I’ll let you off this time.”

“I’ll make it up to you, Flower,” Steve promises. And you believe him. He has always kept his word; ever since the two of you were kids. 

“Good,” you say, smiling softly. “I expect an apology at my door in the next few days, though.”

Laughing, Steve nods, and then he stands from his bed. 

“I’ll leave you to it then, I hope you have fun, bro.” 

It is an impossible task for you to hide your dejected hurt from Steve, though. Clever and perceptive as he is, he detects the subtle sombre undertones underlying your reassurances, narrowing in on them like a dog to a bone. 

You get to your feet with a quiet sigh, and as you move, you miss the thoughtful expression on his face; the perk of his ears at the almost indistinguishable shuffling of feet just outside of his bedroom. “How about you have a movie night with Bucky, instead?” 

You stop in your tracks, frozen in shock at the sudden and downright surprising suggestion. “Stevie,” you admonish, “Bucky does not want to waste a Friday night with me–“

“I don’t mind!” Bucky shouts eagerly from the doorway, and you spin around to face him. The nervous fidget of his curls his fingers and hands around one another, over and over. 

Had he been listening that whole time? 

Guilt begins to flood you. Imposing on any plans Bucky  may have made was a burden you did not want to bear,  and you couldn’t fathom who would want to spend the night with their best friend’s little sister. “Thank you, Bucky, that’s really sweet of you,” you placate, smiling at him. “But I know you’ve probably got better things to do on a Friday night than be with me.”

Bucky seems to swell in the doorway, his chest puffing up and he sets his jaw, a determined glint in his eyes. “Actually, Buttercup,” he retorts, crossing his arms in a decisive move. “A movie night with you sounds perfect.” 

The confidence in his tone takes you by surprise, and you flounder for a second while you stare into his steel blue eyes. “Really?”

“‘Course,” he replies easily, shrugging his shoulders. “It’ll be fun.”

His words, and charming smile, ultimately win you over.  

With your attention wholly focused on Bucky as he begins to talk about what movies to watch, you miss the knowing, victorious smirk that curls Steve’s lips.  

“Okay,” Steve calls from the doorway, looking back at the two of you, and you can’t help but be frustrated by his stalling. “Be good and behave while I’m gone. Oh, and, no staying up past your bedtimes — Bucky, her bedtime is ten o’clock sharp.”

The scowl on your face only serves to make him laugh, and you huff your exasperation before your hands grip his biceps; the only way to get him out the door is brute force. “Get out, Stevie,” you grunt, pushing with all your might, but it is to no avail. Steve is as immovable as a statue made of marble. “Don’t you have to go see Natasha?”

“Yeah,” Bucky agrees, and you hear the rustling sound of fabric. “Don’t you?”

Instinct tells you to duck, and you do so, just in the nick of time to avoid the pillow Bucky launches across the room from his place next to the couch. The pillow hits Steve square in the face with a comical thump. 

You burst into laughter at the stunned look of disbelief on Steve’s face, and you look over at Bucky, who is leaning against the sofa; a smug grin pulls his lips up and scrunches his nose.  “Get the hell outta here already, punk.”

With Steve distracted by Bucky’s betrayal, you take the chance to shove him out of the front door and watch delightedly as he stumbles in the hallway. “Hey–!” The door slams shut behind him, cutting him off. 

Giggles shake your shoulders as you put your back to the door, leaning against it with all of your strength as Steve turns the handle — evidently not finished in the war of quips. 

Bucky’s laughter from his place by the sofa makes your stomach flutter, and he walks closer, just as Steve stops attempting to break down the door. 

With the end of Steve’s attempts to forcefully open the door, you turn and face the wood and peer out of the peephole. A blond mop of hair is just within view. “Bye Stevie!” you call through the door, “Have fun, wear protection!”

Steve’s reply is muffled by the wood, and he flips you off before walking away.  

Shaking your head, you turn back to face the living room, and you see Bucky fussing around the sofa and coffee table. The strong aroma of a sweet, spicy scent fills your senses and you inhale deeply, letting the tantalising smell fill your lungs, before you ask, “Bucky, what are you doing?”

He sends you a furtive glance before looking back down at the snacks laid out on the coffee table, neatly placed next to two already filled glasses of drink. A bag of popcorn threatens to spill from his arms. “I’m, uh– I’m setting up? For the movie–?”

You could not help but notice how fast the bravado and confidence he displayed in the presence of Steve vanishes when he was with you, and you alone.  

“Oh, sweetie,” you coo, walking closer. “I thought we could watch the movie in your room, instead of out here. It’ll be more comfortable, at least, and we can spread out. Is that okay?” 

The popcorn bag that threatened to spill from his arms bursts instead, scattering the popped kernels all over the floor, making him yelp. “Ah! Uh– Okay, we… We can if you want?”

You nod once. “Absolutely. I’d rather be in your bed any day, then out here,” you tease, amused by the way Bucky’s eyes bulge and his cheeks flush. Then you look down at the popcorn all over the floor, and add, “But first, let’s clean this up.” 

Bucky starts to clean up the mess, and he tells you to grab the movies you agreed upon from the collection in the bookshelf. 

The selection to choose from is packed, as it always is. “Why don’t I grab a couple?” 

“Sure,” Bucky answers, sweeping the popcorn into a dustpan. “I mean, why not? May as well go all out.”

You grin and grab a couple of cases. “Do you need some help–”

“No, I’ve got it, Bubs,” Bucky interrupts. You look over your shoulder at him to see the blankets bundled high in his arms, and before you could protest and insist you help carry them, he shuffles off in the direction of his bedroom. 

Then, you glance down at the coffee table to see that the snacks and drinks are missing. “Did you grab the snacks?”

“Yeah!” Bucky calls back, muffled by the walls between the two of you. 

A fond sigh falls from your lips and you follow after him, DVD cases in hand.  

The tension in the air of his bedroom is charged with something you could not quite describe, and the butterflies in your stomach roar to life for it. You square your shoulders, and smile through it. “It’s no different, it’s no different,” you mutter under your breath; a mantra for confidence. 

Though, it is short lived. 

Bucky throws the blankets onto his bed with a grunt, and both the TV and DVD player switch on, ready to accept one of the disks you held in your hand. 

A shuddery breath falls from your lips, and you make your way to the player to place the first disc in. It whirrs to life as you turn to look at Bucky, who is placing the snacks on a tray table, his tongue between his teeth as he works. 

“Okay,” he hums, turning to face you, a shy smile on his face. “You ready, Bubs?” Without waiting for an answer, he walks past you to the light switch, his index finger poised to flip it off. 

You look down at your body, the warm outerwear you had thrown on to get to Steve’s apartment suddenly becomes scorching hot against your skin, and an idea comes to mind — flustering him has given you a rush of confidence before… 

“Almost,” you say, a hidden smirk on your lips. The layers of warmth are soft in your hands while you take them off, and you’re left in a thin tank top and soft, cotton shorts. “Now I am.”

A faint choking noise comes from the doorway behind you when you place the warmer clothes on Bucky’s desk chair. Inwardly, a coy smirk lifts the corner of your lips; outwardly, you look over to him, concerned and ever curious. 

His face, normally soft and kind whenever he looked at you, is taut with embarrassment; blotchy and red. His eyes are frantically looking anywhere, and everywhere around the room but at you. 

“Buck?” you say, getting his attention. His eyes meet yours. “You okay?”

The fidgeting is your first clue that he is struggling with something, and it is a battle to keep the teasing smile off your lips when his hands run constantly through his long hair and or come to a stop in the pockets of his grey sweats. 

Patiently, you watch while he repeats the same actions several times, each pass of his hands only serving to make him even more flushed. “Yeah. Yep,” Bucky coughs. “Mhm. Just great, thanks.” He looks up to the ceiling and gulps loudly. “You’re really wearing those? Uh– Just those, I mean?” 

You thin your lips to try and hurriedly fight off a smile as you grab your warm, fluffy socks from your bag. “Of course, silly,” you tease, shaking your head once. “I always wear my comfy clothes on movie night.”

The room turns deathly silent when you bend at the hip to pull the socks up your feet. 

Peering up from your task, you see Bucky staring at your legs, evidently thinking he hadn’t been caught and his eyes begin to trail upwards, towards your chest. The slackjawed expression amuses you, though you feel the beginning sparks of your own shyness come to life.

“Buck?” A nervous laugh bubbles in your chest, and you play with the hem of your tank top at the heat in his gaze. “Bucky?” you try again, “Are you ready?”

“Uh– Yeah, yes,” he rushes, quickly flicking the light off so his face is cast into shadow. You could have sworn he looked like a kid getting caught stealing a cookie from the cookie jar — wide eyes and a deepening blush that spread down his neck.  

Bucky had always been a little shy in your presence, this you knew. Whenever you come over to visit Steve, or you bump into Bucky on campus, you always notice a remarkable difference in his normal, unwavering charm that he had in familiar company. 

This lack of swagger gives you the impression that you unfasten the young, boyish version of him; the one ruled by nerves, and hindered by a severe lack of confidence. 

Sure, you enjoy spending time with him here and there when you hang out at your brother’s apartment, but never before have you been this close to him, and alone. 

“Why don’t we–?” You gesture towards Bucky’s bed, and before he could either protest or agree, you jog to the edge and jump onto the plush mattress with a squeal of laughter. The blankets cover you easily as you roll yourself in them. “This is perfect,” you sigh, happy and content. 

“And where am I meant to sit?” Bucky laughs, appearing in your eye line with a bright, amused expression. “You blanket hog.”

“Fine,” you drawl, and you disentangle yourself from the cocoon of blankets. 

“Why, thank you, madame,” Bucky says, extending his hand in a mock salute, and he sits down in the now available spot, before sidling up the mattress, to rest his back on the headboard.

The broadness of his shoulders don’t leave much room between the two of you, and you decide to snuggle up to his side in a bid to get comfortable. You feel him tense with the proximity, but he doesn’t push you away or say anything.

“Are you ready now?” you ask, reaching for the remote. “For the movie?”

“Yeah, go ahead,” he rasps, nodding quickly.

Despite his initial nerves, Bucky settles comfortably in your presence — half of the movie goes by undisturbed with only the occasional shuffling to get comfortable after getting a snack, or a drink.  

That all changes the moment Bucky becomes restless,his leg twitching against yours constantly, and he repositions himself every couple of minutes. From the corner of your eye, you see his mouth opening and closing; the courage building within him to speak up. You bite your tongue against the urge — let him speak first, you chided yourself. 

“So,” Bucky eventually says, his voice quiet. “How are your classes going, Buttercup?” 

You take your eyes off the screen and face Bucky, but he’s already looking at you, his eyes bright from the glow of the TV. 

“They’re going good,” you reply, just as quietly. “Yeah, they’re busy — hectic, even, but good.” 

The fabric of the comforter ruffles as you turn your body towards him — your shorts ride up with the movement, and your bare thighs brush against his sweats. Bucky tenses while you settle in and only relaxes when you stop shifting in place. “This time of year is always busy, the coursework and exams,” you continue, shrugging your shoulders. “But I’m managing okay, thanks.” 

Bucky nods his head thoughtfully. “Yeah, all those art projects you’ve gotta finish, it must be tiring.” 

Shock slackens your features and you reel back — you could not recall telling him what you studied. “How do you know what major I’m taking?”

“I– um,” Bucky stutters, suddenly overwhelmingly shy. “I hear you talking to Steve about it. Y’know, when– When you come over, on movie nights, and other nights.” 

You can sense Bucky is not done explaining; he licks his lips and stares at his lap, where he fidgets, again. Quietly, as if embarrassed, he continues, “I see you lugging your big canvases across campus sometimes, too. From class, and– And from the window, when I’m actually studying.”

Warmth creeps up your neck again and you blink rapidly. You hadn’t noticed that he took so much notice of you before now, and you couldn’t help but feel endeared over it. 

Desperate to shift the attention away from yourself, you blurt, “How’s, uh– How’s training going for football season this year?”  

Bucky freezes for a second, then trips over his words, “Oh, it’s good– Yeah, it’s great. Coach says I’m progressing well, so I’m doing alright, I guess.”

“So modest, Buck,” you tease. It was common knowledge on campus that Bucky is the star player of the college football team, while also being scouted to join the professional leagues. You place your hand on his arm and squeeze his bicep reassuringly, lending him a bit of your confidence. “Don’t you sell yourself short, I’ve seen you play — you’re amazing!” 

He inhales sharply and grimaces, an expression that contorts his handsome face. “You really think so?” 

“Bucky,” you say slowly. The tense line of his body is obvious as you shuffle closer, but you are determined to prove your point; assure him of his talent and abilities, for all of a shy puppy that he is.  

���Listen to me, honey,” you continue, and Bucky refuses to meet your gaze, instead focusing on his hands. “Everyone can see it, all of us — all of the women in the crowds, all of the kids that watch you from the sidelines. We’re all screaming for you.”

His skin is warm under your palm, but you don’t remove your hand. Instead, you grip his arm and shake it a little. “You’re amazing.”

Bucky stays silent — contemplative of your words, and you take the opportunity to think over the reason why Bucky chooses to stay in on a Friday night. 

There is no questioning the fact that Bucky Barnes could pull anyone he wanted, whether it was to party, or to fuck, but to your recollection — and from what Steve had slipped in the past — no one has ever witnessed Bucky bringing anyone home, drunk or otherwise. No partner he could call his own, either, and he didn’t brag about the obvious charm he held over the many women on or off campus. 

Cautiously, you venture towards the subject of your curiosity. “Speaking of, shouldn’t you be going out on dates on a Friday night, like Stevie? Surely you’ve got tons of girls lined up for you.”  

Bucky’s silence turns deafening, unnatural. His body becomes stiff and he looks to be barely breathing. 

“Buck?” You sit up and look into his face. It’s pulled taut with what you could only guess as shame, but that made no sense, and with a mounting, swelling horror, you realise you may have pushed him too far; teased beyond the point of what is acceptable between friends. “Hey, did I say something wrong? I’m so sorry–”

“No! No– I… fuck.” Bucky throws his head back against the headboard and covers his face. “Oh, God,” he groans, muffled by his hands. “Shit.”

“Bucky–” You hesitate, unsure of what to do or what to say. You’ve never seen Bucky behave like this, so anxious and uneasy. “I– I’ll go, it’s alright, I’m sorry,” you say quickly, and you start to shuffle off of the bed when you hear his muffled voice say something behind his hands. “What was that, I didn’t–?”

A heavy sigh lifts his shoulders, and they slump back down as he exhales. “Ihaventevenhadmyfirstkissyet.”

“Sweetheart,” you say quietly, and you shift back towards him. The curtain of hair he’s so fond of covers and conceals his eyes from view, but you refrain from tucking it behind his ear. “I did not understand a word of what you just said.” 

Bucky clears his throat and shifts uncomfortably, looking up at you with a great effort. “I– uh.” His hands land on his thighs with a finality not unlike the final siren at his football games, and he utters a reluctant, “I haven’t even had my first kiss yet.” 

His bedroom is quiet enough you would hear a pin drop. The TV had long powered off, since the movie finished while you talked, and the tension was palpable; a living, breathing encumberment that could not be cut with a knife. The flickering light from the still burning candle on his bedside drawers makes shadows dance across Bucky’s face. 

Okay, you think privately, so what? 

Bucky hasn’t kissed anyone before. It was justifiable — too busy with life, training and keeping up his GPA. You didn’t have to make a big deal out of this. “That’s okay–” Then the reality of the situation hits you, and your mind screeches to a halt. 

If Bucky hasn’t had his first kiss… “Does– Wait, does that mean–?”

“Yes.” Bucky squeezes his eyes tight and refuses to look at you — it is obviously a painful confession, yet he still forces himself to spit it out, putting voice to the doubt in your mind. “I’m a virgin.”

Now that catches you off guard. 

Bucky… is a virgin? 

Bucky, the star football player; built like a Greek god with the charisma to match. 

Sweat beads on his forehead and he looks like he is about to bolt from the room in his fear, and you realise all of your thoughts had shown in your expression. 

“Oh,” you manage, blinking slowly. The hand that was gripping his arm had moved without you realising, and you hastily place it back on his bicep. “Oh, Bucky.”

No other words come to mind. 

When you came to visit Steve for movie night, a calm, easy tradition in your routine, you never expected to end up in this kind of situation; on the other side of a confession that has left you speechless with shock, all while a strange confliction brews deep within your guts. 

You had been there once, and what you wouldn’t have given to have the opportunity to experience it with someone you trusted wholeheartedly — like you did Bucky, your mind supplies not-so-helpfully. 

The realisation hits you harder than you expect, and you gasp quietly, still gripping his arm to reassure him. 

Bucky moves his hands to cover his face again, and his chest rises and falls with a sharp hitch. The nervous pants for air that part his lips bring you back down to earth and away from that revelation. You know he’s embarrassed; ducking his head to his chest and glancing up as though you had scolded him. The entirety of his toned body is rigid with fear, each muscle clenching and poised to run, to save what dignity he feels he has left after such a confession. 

It’s difficult not to stare at the veins that line and bulge from his forearms down to his deft hands,  and you almost feel guilty for it; he’s in distress, fretting over the reveal of his lack of sexual prowess, but you cannot help the lingering gaze over his body. He just looks so pretty. 

From the get go, ever since you had met the star football player, you have always fantasised about him. The silent crush on Bucky had developed into such a deep attraction you almost couldn’t bear it any longer. 

Having convinced yourself of the non-existent reciprocation kept your tongue at bay, in the past.  And while Bucky’s virginity is a surprise, it did not hinder or lessen your feelings for him, quite the opposite; the heady weight of it settling over your mind like a blanket. 

What was stopping you now? What would be the harm in testing the waters?

To hell with it, you decide. The springs of the mattress creak as you move to shuck the blanket off of your body, then your legs. 

Bucky audibly gulps behind his hands when you move closer, and he positively freezes, like a deer in headlights, as you lift your leg up and over his thighs to straddle him. The soft brush of his sweatpants over your legs sends a shiver up your spine, and you sit down, settling your body comfortably on his thighs, just above his knees. 

“What– What are you doing–?” Bucky whispers, and his words are muffled behind his palms. You grin, unseen by your quarry, and you shuffle up his thighs to his hips, your clothed cunt just below the seam at his crotch.  

The sound of Bucky choking on his own spit is comical. 

You pull his hands away from his face, the urge to kiss each palm overwhelming; feather-soft brushes of your lips against the soft skin sends the pulse in his throat racing. “Buttercup, please– This is embarrassing enough–”

“Bucky,” you whisper, cutting him off. “Look at me.”

Blue eyes meet yours, and you pour all of the unspoken words between you both in your soft gaze, willing him to feel the yearning. “Kiss me.” 

“But–” He hesitates, a fish out of water again. His mouth hangs slack from the shock of such a bold request, and you place your pointer finger over his lips, shushing him before he can carry on protesting. 

You pout, placing a hint of pleading in your tone, “Please?”

He looks at you as though you’ve grown two heads. “I– What, I mean,” he flounders, arms hovering at his sides, hesitant to touch you — terrified of taking it a step too far. “I don’t know–“

“Aw, Buck,” you coo, smiling softly. Carefully, you shuffle further up his lap until your knees brush against the headboard of his bed. Gently, you place your palms on Bucky’s toned chest, just above his beating heart hammering away — not wanting to frighten him. “I’ll show you, okay?”

“Yeah.” The tremble in his voice makes your heart ache, but you smile encouragingly.

“Here we go,” you soothe. He smiles weakly back, eyes still wide with shock. “I’ve got you.”

You slowly and steadily move closer to Bucky’s face. A shudder racks through his whole body when he feels your breath against his neck, and you peck his stubbled cheek before sitting back upright to face him.

“Okay,” Bucky shakily says, fisting the blankets in his hands. “Okay. That was okay.”

“See? It’s not so bad,” you tease, and you tilt your head to the side, sticking out your cheek. “Your turn.” From the corner of your eyes, you watch his eyes sweep across your face, still hesitant and nervous, but a slither of curiosity now shining through. 

Broad, strong shoulders lift in tandem with his deep, grounding breath, and he steadily leans in before he second guesses himself. He resolutely does not touch your body, but he manages to find the confidence to gently press his lips against your skin, kissing your cheek. 

This time, he sits back and looks up at you for direction and reassurance. 

You consider it, ignoring the fluttering of your heart. His touch was sweet, but polite; a kiss on the cheek that you would give a friend after such a long time apart. And, in the end, you want Bucky to gain more confidence and actually enjoy kissing — he shouldn’t have to be ashamed to want it. “Good, that was good,” you say, keeping your tone mellow so as to not spook him.

He is making good progress, and gentle encouragement is the way to ensure it continues, you reason with yourself. “Now, I want you to do the exact same thing, but start gradually moving towards my lips.”

“Oh– Okay, okay,” he breathes, and his eyes widen slightly before they dart down towards his lap. 

That needs to be rectified immediately, before he shuts down, you hastily think, and you react swifty, your hands roaming from his chest and up to the sides of his neck, adding a little pressure to bring him back down to earth. 

There was an innate need for him to know that he could trust you; that you would treat him with the respect he deserves. 

Gently, you lift his head up, forcing him to look at you, and the downturn of his lips makes your heart ache. All you want to do is soothe the fear and rid the worry from his pretty eyes that pierce you, even through the strands of hair that have fallen in his face. 

“You’re okay, Buck,” you soothe, rubbing your thumbs over his warm, rosy cheeks. The movement and assurance seem to do the trick. “You’re okay. I’ve got you.”

A minute passes, and you watch as the confliction flitters across his face; an inward battle to assemble his courage to bridge the gap between you both.

There is another minute of silence, when he slowly advances, leaving his palms flat on the covers of his bed as he kisses you on the cheek. 

“That’s it,” you praise, sitting still in his lap, but smiling softly in encouragement.

Bucky hesitantly returns the smile, and he doesn’t move away, rather, he decides to stay close. “You did good,” you say, still smiling, and he takes you by surprise when he moves forwards again to place another tiny kiss even closer to your lips. “Oh–”

The soft brush of his lips makes you freeze, and he takes his time, building his confidence with each peck he makes. 

Finally, he reaches the corner of your lips, and he stalls; confidence wavering and faltering with the daunting task. You go to part your lips to speak on instinct, to encourage him, when he suddenly moves even closer to your face, making you hastily shut your mouth and brace for what was to come; willing for your heart to slow down the tattoo it beats against your throat.  

“Okay,” Bucky whispers more to himself, and he clears his throat before licking his lips. “Okay, okay. Just–” His lips connect with the curve of you own, the brief and fleeting connection enough to tell you that his lips are plump; ripe to swell and redden with a passionate make out session. 

Hastily, Bucky withdraws, but not all the way back — he lingers and only allows the tiniest space between your faces.

“You did it, sweetheart,” you coo, keeping your voice low. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Th– Thanks,” he stutters, and the rosy blush he sported turns a splotchy crimson. Interesting, you think.  

You turn your head to look at him, and the proximity of his face makes both of your lips brush against each other. The intoxicating softness consumes you, and you cannot deny the reality that Bucky is there, he is right there. A torture that intensifies in the billowing silence, while a burning, reckless spike of adrenaline rushes through your veins.

“Do you want more?” you ask quietly, breaking the silence and shattering the tension. 

A harsh breath falls from Bucky’s lips, and he presses forward to kiss you properly for the first time. 

Whatever you had been expecting for a first kiss from the inexperienced, sweet, charming man beneath you, flew out the window. Your lips slot perfectly over his, a chaste kiss that held enough need and want to be something far more; it could not hold a candle to the sex you had with past flings.  

The kiss, unexpected as it was, lasts only for a couple seconds longer before Bucky pulls back from it, panting lightly — puffs of air fanning over your slightly parted lips. He lingers, bumping his nose into yours to keep close. 

But eventually, Bucky pulls all the way back to rest against the headboard. 

The silence is not deafening — not like it was before, and you open your eyes, blinking slowly. 

Bucky is already staring at you. His eyes are glazed over with hunger, and he's out of breath, the rise and fall of his chest faster than before. 

You fare no better. Your heart pounds heavily in your chest, but it still feels like it’s lodged in your throat. No words are spoken between the two of you; just an invisible string that keeps you entwined to one another. 

It’s difficult to find the words to say, especially after something so raw and vulnerable; so new and budding. You want him to feel safe, like he had done good, though; you want to tell him he has nothing to worry about, not with you. 

And just as you open your mouth to speak, to praise him for how well he had done, Bucky slides his hands up your thighs, over your waist, and up to your neck, cupping the back of it in his large palm. “I want–” 

To your utter shock, he drags you closer, his lips greedily slotting over yours for a far deeper kiss.  

Bucky can’t get enough of you; already addicted and demanding more. You can’t be mad for it, not when he’s a sensational kisser — he’s good, far too good. The basics have you dizzy with want, and you decide on a whim to challenge him, to push him a little further and test the boundaries. 

You part your lips as Bucky pulls back, and before he could kiss you again, you tentatively tease your tongue against his lips. The sensation makes him sit rigid again beneath you, and he chases your tongue, the surprised moan he lets slip vibrates into your mouth.

The power of such a move has you smirking into the kiss. 

You only plan to stoke the fire by pushing him into the deep end a little — the prospect of overwhelming him too risky, but when you feel the effortless slide of Bucky’s tongue entering your parted lips to dance with your own, it leaves you physically stunned and unable to move. 

Bucky compliments you perfectly, as though he is a natural, and someone so timid should not be capable of that — it’s dangerous. 

It escalates — tongues dance and lips clash, and Bucky’s breath is heavy on your lips, as yours is on his, when he pulls back for air. There’s a pull that you can’t ignore, not any longer, and you bring your hands up from his neck to his hair, threading your fingers through it, making him moan quietly against your lips, “Bu–”

Your nails scrape against his scalp while he speaks, and you squeak in shock as Bucky’s hips surge upwards, forcing his hard cock against your clothed cunt. “Oh, fuck–” he gasps, and his body turns rigid with fear again while he pleads for forgiveness. “I’m so sorry, so sorry, Bubs– I–”

Quickly, you place your index finger over his lips. “Hush, you. It’s alright. I loved it,” you reassure, and suddenly, it turns into a game for you — you are desperate to see how Bucky plays along, how close to the edge you can get him. “Let it go, it’s okay.”

Bucky’s breath hitches as you grind down hard against him, and his hands rush down from your neck to grip your waist. The unabashed moan he lets slip is sinful; a delight to be the cause of, and a Cheshire Cat grin splits your lips. You’ll be damned if you don’t get more from him, you decide.

“Fuck,” he grits out, the grip of his hands on your waist turning painful. “Fuck, yes.” 

You moan and allow him to move your body where he wants it — predictably, he perches you straight on his crotch and his hands wander, slipping beneath the tank top you wear to brush against your skin. 

The resolve he had held onto so strongly is starting to slip, and you inwardly scream with joy at the dilation of his pupils, the heavy pants of his breath — a poor, virtuous man is melting into a puddle at your feet. 

The position of your body gives you an impression of just how big Bucky is, and with his cock hard, you can feel the girth and the size of him against your cunt  — a crime, you think, that it wasn’t inside you.

Your motions of grinding down into him have the tip of his cock catching on your clit through your shorts, and the thin material has no pretence of protectiveness, and you greedily lap every single, last sensation up while shamelessly taking more.  

“Bucky,” you whine against his mouth, and in turn, he nips at your swollen bottom lip before sucking on it. “Fuck– S’good.”

“Buttercup, baby,” Bucky slurs, and his fingertips dig into your skin, unknowingly marking you in his lust-fuelled haze. “Fuckin’ feel good, please,” he whimpers, unable to keep kissing you with the way his moans and litany of quiet cries fall from his lips, longing for more; too far gone, he can’t help himself anymore. “Need more, please.”

You’re all too pleased to listen to his cries for you; begging would taste so much sweeter, though. Next time. “Okay,” you soothe, pecking him on the nose. “I’ll give you more, sweetheart.”

The bed creaks as you shuffle up Bucky’s lap, and you move your hands to grip the headboard. “Don’t keep quiet on me,” you warn. 

“Wha– Fuck!”

You pant as you grind down on Bucky’s cock, the effort of making your hips work this hard and fast steals your breath, but the sounds — oh, the sounds falling from his pretty lips make it all worth it. 

The added friction of your lace panties against your soaked clit only amplifies the pleasure for you, and it’s all you can do to keep going.

Bucky throws his head back and groans to the ceiling, but you follow him, leaning over and panting into each other's mouths and kissing messily, barely able to put anything behind them as you work the both of you closer to release. 

You pull back to look at him, and the slope of his neck is too tempting to leave alone — the  loose strands from his hair are sticking to the sweat gathering on his skin, and you watch a bead of it roll down a curve of corded muscle. 

Of course, you weren’t going to let it go — you want him to crack.

Bucky moans, his breath stuttering as your tongue chases the bead of sweat, and you latch onto his skin, sucking steadily at his pulse point. “Baby– Baby, please, fuck,” he babbles, forcing his head back further to expose more of his neck. 

You oblige, all too willingly and with a giddy enthusiasm; the bow of your lips trace over his Adam’s apple and down to his collarbone, where you bite down gently. 

“Shit, shit,” Bucky suddenly exclaims, his words slurring together. “No– No, please, I ca– Can’t,” he begs, and you pull away from his neck, brows furrowing in concern. “Please, I don’t want to– To, shit–”

Words seem to be out of his grasp, and you wait patiently for him to gather his thoughts while you watch the thread of his restraint wearing thin, so close to snapping when he’s this overwhelmed with the pleasure you are giving him. 

You can’t have that, though. 

Bucky was torturing himself, not allowing himself the pleasure of giving into his base desires - what he needs. “Can’t what, sweetheart?” you ask. “You can’t cum?”

Bucky nods his head frantically, his eyes widening. You consider him, the sweat on his brow and upper lip, the way his eyes plead for something more; he’s so desperate to not cum, to let go. 

It’s plain as day that he is holding himself back, when you knew deep down that he is itching to relinquish control and give in. 

You decide then to push, to throw caution to the wind and make him take it. “Why not?” you whine, grinding back and forth, back and forth, over his painfully hard cock. “Doesn’t my pussy feel good, baby?” 

Bucky whimpers and scrunches his face up, cock throbbing as he grows closer to finishing. You don’t think he realises how he rambles to himself, “Fuck, yes! It does—fuck, it does baby.” 

“Think for me, sweetheart,” you say, leaning close to his face. “Just think for me, how good being inside my pussy would be.” The lure of being inside your cunt cracks the last of his resolve; control slipping through his fingers before he can grasp hold of it.  

You smirk, watching how his brows furrow and his eyes squeeze shut. “Just think, Bucky,” you repeat, “How wet and tight I’d be for you. How I would scream for more; beg for more of your cock and what you give me.” 

The sound Bucky makes is close to a wounded animal, and his grip on your waist is sure to leave bruises. “Oh, sweetheart,” you coo, mouthing softly up his neck until your lips brush over the shell of his ear, and you whisper, “Doesn’t that sound good, baby?”

Something snaps within him. 

The headboard of the bed thumps against the wall as Bucky tumbles over the cliff, his restraint long gone, and he wraps his arms tightly around you, curling them around your waist to hold you impossibly close. You feel something wet on your neck, and you realise belatedly that Bucky is crying silently, overwhelmed with the pleasure. 

To reassure him, you thread your fingers through his hair again to scratch at his scalp. You feel his lips move up and down your neck, placing open mouthed kisses over the skin “Are you okay?” you ask softly, careful to not move in his hold. “Bucky, baby?”

“Mhm,” Bucky hums, and he buries his face further into your neck, nodding frantically. “Pleasepleaseplease.”

A victorious smirk pulls the corner of your lips up. You know you have him — Bucky’s too far gone to come back down now, and he won’t be able to stop. 

“Go on,” you purr. Bucky hungrily grinds up into your heat, seeking it out and forcing a gasp from your lips with the pressure. “That’s it,” you push, and your last deadly blow has the dam breaking, once and for all: “Cum for me then, pretty boy.”

“Oh, oh, fuck– Baby–” Bucky moaned, but you keep steady pressure over his cock, and his hips start to stutter in rhythm. “Shit!” 

“That’s it, that’s it, sweetheart,” you coax, just as a damp patch stains the crotch of his sweats, and his legs tremble under your thighs. There’s a loud thump as his head hits the headboard of his bed. 

“Fuck–” Your own climax begins to mount, the tension of it unbearable, and just the band snaps, you cry out to the ceiling, “Bucky!”

The room is full of pants for air, the synchronised rise and fall of your chests in tandem with the twitching muscles of your body; the rushed gasps for breath a symphony to your ears.

“Holy shit,” you murmur, and you finally look at Bucky — only to be taken aback with the awestruck expression on his handsome face. His lips are stretched wide in a dopey grin, and his eyes, while normally so bright and soft, are glazed over with post-orgasm bliss. 

“You’re so beautiful, baby,” he whispers. You feel the brush of his fingers over your waist and thighs, a soothing touch that in combination with his words sends another wave of heat up your neck. “So fuckin’ beautiful.”

You smile nervously, suddenly speechless with the earnestness and fondness in his voice. Instead, you shuffle down his thighs to rest your arms on his shoulders more comfortably, and you play with the hair on the nape of his neck — the soft locks damp with sweat. 

The two of you stare into one another’s eyes, then, you rest your forehead on his to whisper, “Well, handsome, not so bad for your first kiss.”

Bucky starts to laugh, then giggles take over as he faceplants into your chest, nuzzling himself against your tits in shyness. 

After a while, Bucky starts to shift in place, and you start to rise up off of his lap, when his sudden stiffness alarms you. “Bucky? What’s the matter?”

“I— I don’t, I didn’t mean to—“ He stutters, looking down at his crotch. You follow his gaze, utterly confused — there is nothing abnormal, only the wet patch of cum staining the material. 

Your confusion only increases, and you look back to Bucky’s face. It’s blotchy and red from embarrassment. “Bucky?”

“I– Oh, goddamnit,” he mutters, and he looks down at his lap again pointedly.

The realisation washes over you; a lightbulb suddenly going off in your head. He was embarrassed over coming in his pants. “Bucky, sweetheart,” you say, moving to cup his cheeks and force him to look at you. “Listen to me, okay?”

Blue eyes meet yours, his gaze pensive. You muster the warmest, kindest smile; no judgement apparent in your own eyes as you stare at him. “There is no need to feel ashamed.”

“But–” Bucky tries. 

“No, listen to me,” you interrupt, and you lean in closer, bumping his nose with yours before reassuring him, “There's no need to feel ashamed, sweetheart.”

His pure, innocent gaze doesn’t fail to make you swoon even more over him. “It doesn’t?”

“Of course not, you know why?” Bucky shakes his head, eyes wide and intent to listen to anything you have to say. Your lips hover over his as you whisper, “Because I love you making a mess for me, baby.”

The weekend passes by swiftly, a tangle of bedsheets and limbs; kisses and fleeting touches that turn into passionate embraces. 

It was only when Steve came home on the Saturday night did he kick both you and Bucky out of the apartment with a yell of, “Bye! Have fun, kids!”

You decided to take Bucky back to your dorm-room — an easy decision when you get to watch how his eyes trail over your body as you walk down the halls holding hands. 

And on Sunday morning, bright and early, a series of knocks on your dorm-room door wakes you out of your slumber. “Damn,” you grumble, blinking slowly into the dimly lit room. The curtains are drawn, but a slither of gold peeks from behind the fabric; right over Bucky’s face and the mess of his hair. 

You sigh and tiredly throw the covers off you, mentally preparing yourself to get out of bed, but before you can get up, two arms curl around your waist and tug you backwards into a muscled chest. The warmth of the embrace makes you sigh contentedly.

“No,” Bucky groans before burying his face into your neck and smothering you with his body; trapping you with his arms and winding his legs around yours. “Dun’ get up.” 

You giggle as he starts kissing your shoulders and nibbling at your neck — the stubble of his jaw tickling the soft skin while his lips soothed over it. “I have to,” you say quietly, and you grab his arm to pull it off, only– 

“Nuh-uh. Where y’think you're goin’, Buttercup?” The deep rumble of his morning voice has you inner self trembling, memorising your antics of your weekend together. “Can’t leave me.” And to solidify his claim, Bucky clings onto you like a koala. 

“Bucky, you big goof.” You slap his arm, but he just grunts his protest, clinging to your body tighter. “Come on,” you say, wriggling — it’s met with no success of him releasing you. “Get off of me so I can answer the door.”

But you should have known that he is far too stubborn to let up that easily — a stubborn puppy that refused to give up his treat. “No. Tell ‘em to fuck off.”

“Fine.” Your only hope is an attempt to bribe him, you decide, and you look at him to find he’s staring at you through a half-lidded eye, the other eye obscured by his pillow. “How about you let me go, and I promise to give you unlimited cuddles for the rest of the day, no moving whatsoever?” 

That gets his attention, and he perks his head up to lean closer to yours. “I wan’ unlimited kisses, too,” he negotiates, pouting his lips and narrowing his eyes. 

You cannot help but chuckle. “Deal, handsome.”

Bucky plonks backwards onto the bed, star fishing in his sulking — the treat now successfully taken away. 

With your newfound freedom, you sit up and stretch, ignoring the grumbles and quiet whines of, “Bein’ left alone ain’t right,” and, “Tell whoever it is to fuck off, I mean it.”

The bedsheets rustle under you when you scoot to the edge, the warmth of Bucky’s body and the softness of the covers already sorely missed, especially when you stand up and slip into your fluffy, warm gown and slippers. The brush of Bucky’s shirt over your skin makes you smile, the fabric soft and worn but oh so perfectly Bucky. 

“Hurry back, Buttercup,” he calls after you as you walk slowly out of the room. “Please—don’ leave me too long.”

“Drama queen,” you whisper, quiet enough he wouldn’t hear. The knocking comes again and you curse the cause — if it’s your friend from class asking to borrow your notes again, you were going to slam the door straight back in their face. Aloud, you say, “I’m coming, I’m coming. Don’t bust the hinges.”

You prepare the speech to scold your friend as you walk to the door, and you grab the hand;e — the metal of it cold from the chill overnight. The door swings open with a loud creak, and you start saying, “What are you–”

The lack of a presence, or anyone at the door, stops you short — not even a shadow of someone running away down the hall.  “Fucking door dashers,” you groan, and you turn on your heel to go back inside when the toe of your slipper bumps into something on the ground. “What–?”

A gift basket, filled to the brim with an assortment of chocolates and scattered gift cards to your favourite stores, is innocuously sitting there. In the middle of the basket, poking its head out next to a bouquet of your favourite flowers, is the head of a stuffie Golden Retriever, the fur irresistibly soft and the eyes bright — much like Bucky’s. Its mouth held a note scrawled in messy cursive. 

“Okay,” you mumble, and you kneel down to look at it closer, worried that there had been a mix up or confusion of a dorm number. As you near the letter, you realise that the messy scrawl spells out Flower. “Wait.” 

That meant only one person was responsible. 

Your fingers tore open the letter and unfold it; the messy scrawl continues on the inside, too.  

Flower, I’m sorry for bailing on our movie night. 

I know you’re pissed, but I hope this and the beefcake attached to your back makes up for my mistake. 

Love ya squirt, 

Your big bro.

“Stevie,” you say, eyes darting over the lines of script. “You sneaky bastard.” There is a post script just below his sign off, and you continue to read.

P.S. Date went well, tell you all about it on movie night next week? I’m sure we’ll have guests joining us x 

Shaking your head in amusement, you place the note back with the stuffie, and pick up the rest of your basket. “What am I going to do with you,” you mumble, stepping back into your dorm to place the basket on the entry table to admire it again. 

“Wha’s happenin’?” a voice rasps behind you, and sure enough, the aforementioned beefcake in the letter from Steve plasters himself to your back; arms around your waist and his face tucked into your neck again. “Back to bed, c’mon.”

Bucky drags you backwards, chuckling deeply at your squeal of laughter that echoes down the hallway to your bedroom. “You made me a promise,” he grunts, and he pulls you back into bed and underneath the covers, intent on making sure you fulfil your end of the bargain. 

Part Two, Part Three

[lewisvinga]

get his ass ! | lando norris/the grid x fem! reader

summary: y/n was loved among the grid, quickly gaining the title of ‘the mother of the grid’ due to her motherly nature. but when a famous football player says he’d like to take her on a date in an interview, the boys are quick to defend her.

fc; maria isabel

warnings; kinda suggestive pics , curse words

notes; requested! this came later than expected lol, been super tired after a long road trip and was out all day w poor connection😩🥲 don’t mind my lil football reference 🤭🤭 also second pic of the interview was meant to say pretty at the end but it was called off lol😞

masterlist !

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri, and 940,038 others!

yourusername: pov: single mother after a day full of chasing and taking care of her 5 grown children on the paddock

tagged; landonorris, oscarpiastri, alex_albon, logansargeant, georgerussell63

username: MOTHER IS BACK ON THE PADDOCK

username: i want u fr

landonorris: ‘single mother’ who am i then?😕

yourusername: a grown child who asks me to ‘pretty please’ wipe the grease off of his pizza😁

landonorris: it was disgustingly greasy…🤢

username: LMFAOOAOAO

username: a single mom who works 2 jobs who loves her kids

yourusername: they get on my nerves all the time but i love my grown children 💓

logansargeant: sorry mom

yourusername: you and osc are an exception

alex_albon: oh, wow!

oscarpiastri: 😁

georgerussell63: you trying to say something, y/n….

yourusername: yeah give me carmen

carmenmmundt: i agree!

georgerussell63: wait-

username: you need to open a youtube channel!

username: your fit on the paddock ate today 😩

username: the picture of alex and logan w the snake 😭😭😭😭

username: can always count on y/n for content

yourusername posted to their story!

[caption 1; baby’s nap time 😴] [caption 2; taking my sons out for lunch 🫶🫶] [caption 3; my new child, surprise! it’s a boy!💙]

Jude Bellingham answers your fan questions!

liked by yourusername, oscarpiastri, and 1,503,028 others!

landonorris: all mine.

tagged; yourusername

yourusername: lando norris…. i thought you’d post this on your jpg account…

landonorris: nope😁

yourusername: could’ve been worse thank u

yourusername: all yours. forever. 🫶

landonorris: always.

username: so y’all saw jude’s interview too…

username: caption was 100% aimed a jude

alex_albon: can i tag him pls

yourusername: no.

landonorris: yes!

yourusername: no or i won’t take you to get kbbq tmrw

alex_albon: sorry lando

username: alex’s comment😭

username: oh wow

username: the 2nd, 4th, n last pic🥴🥴🥴🥴

username: their relationship isn’t a want it’s a NEED

logansargeant: oh!

yourusername: look away pls😞😔

landonorris: no keep looking so you and every other athlete knows she’s mine 😁

username: jealous lando omg 😵‍💫😵‍💫

maxverstappen1: take that tap in merchant!

carlossainz55: yeah and he won against you guys! put some respect on his name 🙄

yourusername: my football rivalry sons…

landonorris: no i agree w max

username: not the culers and merengues of f1 fighting 😭😭

georgerussell63: my eyes!😰😰😰😰

georgerussell63: but that serves him right! y/n is a taken lady!

username: red is HER color, no one can wear read

username: the fit is everything 😍😍

username: need someone to recreate the last pic w 😖😖😣😣

oscarpiastri: i really had to stop lando from posting more exposing pictures, you’re welcome btw mother

landonorris: i had plenty of other ones to choose from…

yourusername: thank u osc😭

[yourlocallunatic]

My King in the North

Cregan Stark x fem Velaryon!reader 18+

Summary: You fly with your brother to meet with the Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North to ally your families in the height of the Dance of Dragons. In exchange for soldiers, your mother has offered up you—her eldest daughter.

Warnings: Arranged marriage, smut, piv sex, oral sex (fem receiving) canonical Stark breeding kink (seriously, hardcore breeding kink). HoTD tragedies (character deaths)

wordcount: 8.2k

The wind grew sharper the further North you flew, snow started to cling to your hair and lashes, encasing you in the cold. On the back of your dragon, you tried your best to curl into yourself to keep warm. The rain you saw from time to time on Dragonstone was cold, but not like this. You could feel the fierce power of the North in the gusts of the wind and it made you feel something, something more than you felt anywhere in the South.

You approached Winterfell, the rolling green hills and the thick forest surrounding it. The sky was gray and a light snow covered the cobblestone streets and the tops of the tower. It seemed dull, but there was a distinguished charm to the place. You and your brother landed your dragons near the front gates, and the guards standing watch shuffled stiffly on their feet–eyes growing wide at the sheer size of the beasts. The gates opened and a man walked at the front, he was broad and burly, his long hair was pulled half-back and a large sword was slung across his back. This was the Lord of Winterfell. Your betrothed.

“Winterfell welcomes you, my friends,” his voice shook with a deep Northern accent, his arms were outstretched with a gesture of welcome.

“Thank you, my Lord. Our mother–her Grace–thanks you for seeing us,” Jacearys spoke approaching Lord Stark. You stayed back a bit, letting your brother do the talking for now.

“Please, please, come in. We have a feast prepared, you shall sit at the high table with myself,” He patted Jace on the back hard, your brother letting out a cough at the impact. The Northerners were clearly not very concerned with the prim-and-proper treatment of royals. It was refreshing. You set your dragon away, leaving her to fly and explore, knowing she would return. You follow your brother, guards following you on either side—Lord Starks welcoming behavior did not reflect that of the guards he enforced. You knew it was risky of him to trust you, and he showed you that with the guards that stood by him and the sword that lay on his back. He was smart.

Warmth enveloped you as you entered the halls, every patron of the court stood and bowed as you all entered. They did not bow at you and your brother, however, but to the Warden. You’d heard of Northern stubbornness and now you were seeing it in full effect. They did not like outsiders and you saw that as they sent occasional glares to you. Lord Stark took a seat at the high table, you and Jace sitting on either side of him, though you protested to sit next to your brother.

"Please, be seated," Lord Stark's voice boomed throughout the hall, "I thank you all for welcoming the children of The Queen, the Prince, and Princess shall remain with us for a stay, I ask you all to extend your arms to them. Now eat your fill! Winter is coming," he spoke with such a high level of authority but it was so evident in the way his people listened attentively that they all respected him. And the mere fact that he had called Rhaenyra the Queen already struck something in the minds of his people.

You still did not speak, eating quietly as you listened to the conversations around you. Jace and Lord Stark spoke to each other, you could tell a bond was forming, the two seemed very alike already. Two young Lords, they knew power at such a small age. You watched the Warden from the corner of your eye, the way he spoke with Jacearys was firm, but not unfriendly, he knew what you and your brother came here to ask and he was setting his boundaries early–the type of move a king would make. Studying his face you noticed more and more, that his brow line was firm, and his eyes a steel grey, he was very much a Stark by all the accounts you'd read. He had a small scar running along the side of his cheek, one you couldn't help but wonder what it came from.

"Tell me, Princess," you turn your head to the young woman sitting beside you, a bit younger than yourself you guessed, "you came here with the intent of staying in the North, did you not?"

"Pardon me, Lady–?" you asked. Finally speaking.

"Just Sara, your Grace. You intend to marry my brother?" this was the Lord of Winterfell's sister, you recalled–a bastard–thinking back to your books on the North. Evidently, he was very committed to his family, considering he would let a bastard sit at the high table with him; let alone sit in the hall altogether.  

"The Queen's intention, yes," you bite back, still bitter at your mother for so easily sending you away for the sake of her crown.

"So you do not intend to?" the girl asked, genuine curiosity laced in her voice.

"No-well, yes..." You stutter, before taking a deep breath, "I do what the Queen asks of me."

"Do not fret, Princess, you will be well taken care of here," she sets a warm hand on your arm and gives you a soft smile, doing her best to calm you in your distressed state. "My brother may be a formidable warrior and leader, but don't let him fool you, he cares very much for those around him. Especially one so beautiful as you."

"Thank you, Sara. I apologize, I fear I've gotten caught up in my worries, leaving my family so suddenly, not even knowing if Lord Stark will accept the proposed betrothal. I have a lot on my mind." you laugh nervously, pushing your food around your plate with your fork (very un-ladylike your septa would tell you).

"You needn't say sorry, Princess," the girl was sweet, and you could tell it was genuine, hopefully, she'd be a fast friend. "And trust me, he will accept the proposal," she whispered to you sneakily.

"And how do you know that? Surely he has better offers," you combat, keeping your voice low as well, Lord Stark barely a foot away from you.

"My brother is smart. He plans to take your brother to the wall and discuss terms, leaving you here to put your impression on the people. He wouldn't have accepted the two of you here without learning more about you first, he knows the good you've done for the realm even as a young Lady. No matter the Queen's standings, he knows he would have someone good by his side. Someone the North could accept." there was something larger at play here you could tell, larger than both yourself and Lord Stark, larger than your mother and Aegon's petty argument. This was about the whole of the North.

"Moreover, my brother is a man, and no man could say no to a pretty woman with a dragon who could give him little dragon babies," she giggles, eliciting a laugh from you as well, "no man is smart enough for that." a louder laugh leaves your mouth from her comment, you cover your mouth with your hand, trying your best to be proper.

"Seems we already have two new friends!" Jacaerys voice interrupting your laughter, "Haven't heard her laugh in years, nose always stuck in a book." your brother teases making you roll your eyes. Lord Stark turns his body to face you, the ghost of a smile on his lips.

"Just as I hoped," he moved his gaze to his sister, his smile grew larger, and you could tell he was grateful for her warm demeanor. "Princess, would you care for a walk?" his eyes were still on his sister but he moved them quickly to you. You turn to Sara, and she gives you a smirk and a small nod, gently pushing your shoulder to go with the Warden.

"Y-yes, my Lord, it would please me greatly," you stand and bow your head. He extends his arm and you hold onto it politely. Even through the thickness of his tunic and cloak, you could feel how strong he was–and it made you blush.

The two of you didn't speak to one another as you walked the streets of Winterfell, he would stop occasionally to greet people though, goodness coming through his rough demeanor. You came to the godswood and walked through, the noise from the streets gone replaced with the whistling of the wind and the quieting chirps of birds as night fell.

"I spoke with your brother," his thick voice filled the silence, "but I wished to speak with you as well before we continue with our terms." He stopped walking and turned to face you, not letting go of your arm.

"Of course, Lord Stark," his lips turn up slightly on one side at your formality.

"As the Queen's terms stated, you need aid from the North, and in exchange, she will give me your hand in marriage. Is this what you wish?" He seemed concerned, more so than he should be.

"Of course, my Lord, whatever my Queen wishes of me." You bow your head to him in submission. Would he be a rough lover? You wondered. Everyone told tales of how brutal of a ruler he could be, how brutal a fighter. Would he be brutal with you? Only see to you to stick an heir in your womb?

"Is that what you wish, Princess?" his arm held yours tighter, a sense of urgency in his tone. "I know of your family, I know that marriage is a duty, it is here in the North too. But in the North, we believe there is also passion in marriage and love. I do not want you to subject yourself to this if you think I am only here to rule you."

"I-I wish for a happy life," you close your eyes, for the first time in your life speaking your truth plainly, "I wish for my family to be safe, children to care for, land for my dragon to fly in peace..." you trail off, his sister may have been right, he may care for those around him, but he was also dangerous to those he did not. Now all you could hope was that there was something he cared about in you.

"Then you shall have it," he spoke with the authority of a king. "I've heard of what you've done in Dragonstone and even King's Landing for your kinsman's people. I wish to have you by my side, not just to wife, but to show the North there is good still left, and we have her fighting for us."

"Thank you, for accepting the proposal, Lord Stark, it would be an honor to serve the North."

"Thank you, Princess," those steely eyes stared straight into yours and you believed him with every part of you. "I will take your brother further North to the wall to discuss the rest of our terms, when I return we shall be wed within a fortnight. Will you be alright here?"

"Yes, my Lord," you smile at him. Duty and passion he had said. You simply couldn't wait for his return, dying to see what his passion felt like.

You made your way back to the hall together, taking your seats again. They would leave at dawn he told you flying on dragon-back. You tried to get him to fly your dragon instead of going with Jace, but he insisted she stay here while he couldn't be here to protect you.

"Ever proud Northmen are," Sara whispered to you, "that dragon could protect an army," you giggle at her joke, glad you would have her here to keep you company the next coming days.

The next days you had hardly a moment's rest, busying yourself with learning more and more of the North's history within the Keep's library. At one point Sara held a lunch for you and some Ladies of the Court. "It will make a good impression." she'd told you. So you put on a smile and listened to the gossip that ensued. It took a moment for the Ladies to warm to you but once Sara revealed that Lord Stark was to have your hand in marriage they flurried into excitement, one of them even offering to sew together your wedding dress at once. You smiled, the North was a cold place, but it was clear that there was a warmth to be found in the community.

"My husband hasn't bed me in years," one of the ladies had said, several of them chiming in saying their husbands did the same, "what I'd give for one of those Stark men, I hear they bed you every night to ensure a babe takes..."

"I hear they know everything of a woman's pleasure, Lord Stark should surely pass a law to all our husbands to do the same."

"My maid saw him bathing once…told me he's got the largest member she's ever seen."

The words flew around you, the women all laughing and giving you jealous looks. Your face grew red at the thought of him bedding you, giving you all the children you could hope for. As wonderful as the welcome of these women was, it was also highly unusual for women in the South to talk about such things with one another, clearly another difference you'd have to grow accustomed to.

"Alright ladies, I'm sure the Princess would appreciate some respite on the wedding talk, as would I with hearing about my brother's cock," Sara spoke loudly, a teasing tone in her voice, but everyone listened nonetheless. She excused the two of you and led you outside for some fresh air. You wrapped the new fur cloak you were given tighter around yourself, still growing used to the cold.

You walked together for a bit before you heard the familiar screech of Vermax in the air. They weren't supposed to return for a few more days...perhaps they had come to an early agreement. You quicken your pace to the front gate, arriving just as your brother and Lord Stark entered.

"How was riding on dragon-back, Lord Stark?" you tease, walking to greet the two of them. But he didn't respond. He walked close to you, a solemn look in his eyes. Something had happened, what happened? He puts a cold hand on your shoulder, casting his gaze downward. "Is everything alright, my Lord?" your voice began to shake. He looks you in the eye once again before walking away. Had the engagement broken off? You wonder, your heart dropping slightly at the thought. Jacaerys didn't move from where he stood a few feet in front of you. His face was blank, void of any emotion trying to break through. "Jace...what's happened, am I to return home now?" he did not answer. You walked to him, grabbing his face in your hands to make him meet your gaze, "Jace, answer me. What's happened?" your voice firm, tears beginning to grow in your eyes from anger as he still said nothing. "Jacaerys!" you shout, and that's when you see it, a crumpled piece of parchment clutched in his hand. The broken seal was that of your mothers, she's sent a raven. Why? You grab the message from him and hastily unfold it, doing your best to make out the tear-stained ink.

No. No. It couldn't be real. Your brother. Your baby brother. The boy too brave for his own good. Lucaerys...

"This isn't real, it can't be..." your chest was tight and your vision began to blur, you looked around you, trying to find someone to give you answers, Jacaerys still mute. You stumbled blindly as your body began to wrack with gasping breaths, you ran into a solid body, grasping on to whoever it was and not letting go.

"Come, Princess, let's get you to your chambers," the deep Northern accent resonated from above you.

"No, my-my, no my baby brother..." your voice barely coherent, "my baby brother..."

"I know, I know, Princess, walk with me," Lord Stark did his best to keep his grasp on you, but to no avail.

"He was a child!" you screamed, pushing yourself away from him. "An innocent boy!" Your body began to tumble backward but Jace was right behind you, standing to hold you upright, his own eyes now leaking tears, trying as he might to keep a brave face. You struggle between the two men as they try to drag you back to the keep. You couldn't breathe, the air inside was suffocating. You threw open the window in your chambers sucking in a deep breath before collapsing to the ground.

You didn't know how many hours had passed, you cried until your tears ran dry and screamed until your lungs gave out. Your wails echoed through the halls. Now you sat beneath the open window, the cold air seeping into your bones as the fire in your chambers died down. War would break out soon over something so trivial. Your family had always been teetering on killing each other and you hated it. It wasn't just Aemond that killed Lucaerys, it was every single one of the Targaryens.

There was a soft knock at your door but you did not acknowledge. Not that it mattered, shortly after the knock the door opened and your brother entered. He shut the door behind him before making his way over to you and sliding down the wall to sit next to you.

"We will leave at dawn," he spoke, turning his head to face you.

"We? Jacaerys, I cannot go back there. This has gone on far too long, since the moment Aegon was born, I am finished being a part of this game of thrones," your voice was broken from the crying and screaming, and it was broken from the pain.

"Mother will want you safe, with her," he combated.

"Safe? I'm safe here Jace, away from the fighting, the safest I've been all my life. The engagement is set now and you have made your terms, my duty is to the North now, and to the North, it will stay," you spoke exasperatedly. You stood from your spot on the ground and made to tend the fire again, "Has Lord Stark given you adequate resources?" you question, trying to change the subject.

"2,000 of his older fighting men, greybeards, he calls them."

"Good, then you will take your leave at dawn. Tell mother I love her, but she cannot send me away only to try and take me back as soon as she loses a child," he nodded at you sadly, tears in his eyes, he was losing his sister too now. "Come here, I'm sorry, but this is what she wanted." You move to him and wrap your arms around him, holding him tightly to you.

"At least let me stay for the wedding," he mumbled into your shoulder.

"You mustn't waste more time, avenge Luke for me, he was the best of us."

"I will. I promise," he told you, right as there was another knock at your door. You clear your hoarse throat, trying to sound the lady you were.

"Enter," yes you tried, but your voice still shook.

"My Prince, Princess," Lord Stark enters the room, giving you each polite nod.

"Please, Cregan, you needn't use formalities, I'm to be your brother soon after all," Jacaerys spoke up, trying his best to lighten the mood. Cregan gave him a smile before he continued speaking.

"Of course, that is what I came to ask. As you are leaving at dawn, I thought you may want to be here for your sister's wedding," his gaze turned to you, almost questioning. "I've had arrangements made and was curious to if the Princess would like for the ceremony to take place tonight?" you tried to interrupt, not sure if you could handle the festivities after such a loss you've endured, but he quickly cut you off before you could say anything, "It would be small, only us and a priest, we will have a feast to celebrate whenever you're ready, Princess." your brows turned down and adoration flooded you, he looked at you steadily for a response.

"Thank you, my Lord, I would love to have my brother here, your thought is much appreciated."

"Thank you, Cregan," Jace extended his hand to give him a firm handshake, the two exchanging grateful looks. The ceremony would be in half an hour under the weirwood tree in the godswood, in the sight of the old gods. It was growing late so you didn't bother trying to call a maid, instead you re-braided your own hair and put on the heavy cloak and thick wool dress you were gifted when you arrived in Winterfell, you looked positively Northern.

Jacaerys took your arm and walked you down the cobbled streets to the godswood, where Lord Stark would be waiting. You hadn't had much time to process everything, still so caught in Luke's passing, but you did know that as Sara once said, you would be well taken care of in Winterfell. It was a clear night, the moon and stars illuminated the path through the trees to where your soon-to-be husband stood. He looked regal standing there, the spitting image of a king. Your brother kissed your forehead before handing you over to Lord Stark. Your mind was foggy. I am his and he is mine. The only words that mattered, and the only ones you would remember.

Your goodbyes to Jace were tearful. He couldn't wait until dawn to leave so he mounted his dragon and left, you knew it was because up there, so high in the clouds he could cry, he didn't have to be a prince.

You walked back to your chambers, Lord Stark escorting you. You weren't sure if you could do this, he would want to consummate you were positive of it, but after the day you'd had...you couldn't muster your strength. You came to your door and waited for him to enter before you shut the door behind you, you stood there, not certain if you should wait for him or just get it over with. You turned and watched as he removed his cloak before adding another log to the fire. Get it over with. You told yourself, removing your own cloak and boots before starting on the strings of your dress.

"What are you doing, Princess?" He looked at you, confused, walking over to you quickly and pulling your dress back on your shoulders.

"This is my duty, Lord Stark," you said tearfully. He gave a slight laugh before taking your face in his hands, making you look him in the eye.

"No, no, not tonight, I only came to tend your fire, it's been a long day for you, I will never expect anything of you." you wrapped your arms around him suddenly, aching to be held. And that he did, one arm was around your shoulders and the other cradled the back of your head pulling you close.

"Thank you, again, my Lord," you mumbled into his chest. He pushed you away, and a teasing smile played on his face.

"Never mind, I will expect one thing of you, and that is to call me by my name, no more 'My Lords' or 'Lord Stark'. You are my wife."

"Then thank you, Cregan, for treating me so very well," you smiled at him, "no more 'princess' either, I am no longer one after all," you spoke back. The smile on your face turns down.

"Very well, I will leave you to rest then," he spoke your name as he pressed a kiss to your cheek and made his way to the door. You didn't want him to leave. He was yours now, you wanted him with you, to protect you and care for you in your hours of sorrow.

"Cregan," you called out softly, your dress now slipping off your shoulders again. He turned back, a hopeful look in his eye, "Stay with me?" he said nothing as he walked back to you, ridding himself of the cloak he held before removing his boots, you continued with the strings of your dress, trying your best to reach behind your back when you suddenly felt warm fingers entangled with yours and he continued your work. You were left in a linen slip, standing close to the fire to keep yourself warm. You watched as he unbuckled his belt and removed his doublet, he walked slowly to one side of the bed and placed his formidable sword next to the bed. He held back the fur coverings and nodded to you, motioning you to climb in the bed. Your steps were slow and cautious, but you trusted him. You moved beneath the furs, instantly feeling much warmer, your body heated even more when Cregan moved in next to you holding out his arm so you could fall into his body. It felt right, you were warm, you were safe, you were cared for. Your head lay across his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat as you fell asleep.

"Always, dear wife," he spoke into the silence of the night where he soon fell asleep with you to the dying embers on the hearth.

_________________

You spent your days the next few weeks trying to take hold of your grief, you did your best, keeping your head buried in books to distract yourself. Cregan would take you with him to various meetings and suppers, you were thankful for the distraction and you slowly drew closer to him. You continued on with your arrangement, he would see to your chambers in the evening, tend the fire, and climb into the bed with you, stroking your hair till you slept. But with that, you grew more and more frustrated, his closeness began to stir something in you, a deep longing. You woke one night with the space beside you empty, you sat up in the bed hastily calling out his name. He was standing at the window staring into the darkness of the night, he had taken his tunic off, something he hadn't done in front of you yet, and his back was stiff and muscular from years of training. His arms–now bare–you could see exactly how strong he was, a force to be reckoned with. He hadn't heard you call his name so you slowly slid out of the bed, tugging on the silk robe one of your ladies' maids had embroidered for you, direwolves wrapping around your neck, and snowflakes falling down the sleeves. You walked to where Cregan stood, standing close to him and peering out the window along with him. The wolves were howling in the night causing a chill to run through you, you still couldn't tell what their cries meant, were they mourning with you? Were they angry? Hungry?

"It's said the blood of the first men runs through your veins, that I believe," you spoke into the night. "there's also a folk tale that says the Stark men who have that blood can turn to direwolves when they wish, that... I'm still not sure of." Cregan smiles at the sound of your sleepy voice.

"You've been reading," he states, looking to meet your eyes.

"Yes, I like learning about your people, and your library is always kept so warm," you giggle, thinking of the cozy days you've spent in there.

"I wish that tale were true...it would make ruling so much easier, I wouldn't have to go to meetings anymore, I could intimidate people without having to use my sword, protect my people better..." he sounded hopeful as if he believed he still had a chance for the tale to come true.

"You are a good ruler, you would make a splendid King," you told him, grabbing his hand to hold within yours, despite the cold of the night you could feel his blood still running hot.

"A King?" he questioned, never more than just the Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North.

"Your people were kings for thousands of years, my ancestors took that away from you so they could unite and rule a monarchy," you say, speaking of all the books you've been reading, "In my eyes, you are still the King in the North, and the North remembers, your people remember."

"What you speak is treason, treason to your mother the Queen, and your family!" A man of honor. He pledged himself to the Queen, he would not back out of his oath, even if this is what the North had for thousands of years.

"Perhaps, but my duty is here now. We will let them fight amongst themselves as we prepare for something bigger...your kin, and mine," you give him a look of urgency. "My mother told me of the Prince who was Promised. The Song of Ice and Fire. The book I've seen sitting on your desk..." he knows what is to happen, every Stark Lord is told and does well to abide by it. Cregan was shocked to know you had knowledge of it, and even more shocked that you would put aside your family and call yourself a traitor all for a prophecy.

"My wife..." he trails, worried that this would grow into something far out of his reach.

"Your oath to the prophecy proceeds that of your oath to my mother. We will not betray her, but we must survive for the whole of the realm," you're holding both his hands now, looking at him desperately. He knows this is true.

"We will survive," he states, agreeing with you. "but I will not be the king."

"You will be my King," your eyes draw closed as you sink to your knees. "I have wed myself to you, now I pledge myself to you, I know no King, but the King in the North, whose name is Stark." His eyes fill with adoration as he looks down at you, soon following suit to kneel with you on the ground.

"Then you will be my Queen," his words ring clear and true as he rests his forehead against yours, drawing you close to him. "come to bed with me, our celebration feast is tomorrow, and you need your rest." He stands and extends his hand to help you up and doesn't let go once you are standing as well. He leads you to the bed letting you get yourself comfortable before laying beside you, your faces mere inches away as you stare into one another's eyes.

"Cregan," you whisper, your eyes flitting down to look at his lips, his mouth was slightly open and he spoke your name back to you, "Please kiss me." he wasted not a second, moving those few inches to connect your lips, he was warm all over, the pure fire that warmed the North, his lips were dry and slightly cracked but they were full and consumed you whole. He pulled away before anything went too far and a giggle left your mouth as you looked at his reddened face. He smiled at you before placing another kiss on your forehead and pulling you close. You both fell asleep fast, holding each other until the sun rose.

The next day was a flurry of commotion to prepare for the feast. The lady from the lunch you'd had with Sara (who you now learned was Lady Umber, wife of Lord Umber) insisted you wore the dress she had sewn for your wedding ceremony, claiming you had to wear it to the feast if the ceremony had already happened. You complied for the dress was stunning, thick and woolen, a real northern dress lined with white furs and embroidered with the direwolf sigil. Foods were rushed into the great hall as garlands were hung on the hearths. One of your ladies was finishing braiding your hair in a northern fashion like you'd insisted when there was a knock at your door.

"My Lord," your lady bowed before finishing the braid and swiftly exiting to leave the two of you alone.

"You look beautiful," Cregan said softly as he made his way over to you, he grabbed a piece of your silver hair between his fingers and twirled it, "I do hope our children take after their mother." he teased, letting go of your hair in favor of taking your hand to place a kiss on your knuckle.

"I hope they take after their father," you tease back, "true little wolves they'd be," he smiled brightly at you, but behind his eyes, there was a darkness, a yearning, one that you knew for certain he had been holding back for weeks.

"Let's be on our way then, the people are waiting for the new Lady of Winterfell," even though the two of you were wed already, it still didn't feel real thinking that you were to be the new Lady of Winterfell. You'd done your best in your mourning of Lucaerys to try and connect with the people, all you could hope is that they would accept you now.

The feast was in full swing when you arrived, shouts and songs echoed in the hall but all grew silent as you and Cregan entered, making your way to the head table. You reached the front and turned to face the people, hand in hand.

"Thank you all for welcoming our new Lady of Winterfell!" Cregan shouted over the masses, and a roar of cheers erupted. "You will do well to remember our new allegiance to the Queen Rheanyra and keep your honor. These past weeks as you've welcomed our new Lady of Winterfell you may know that she has lost a brother to the usurper of the Iron Throne, we will keep in the North for our duties, but if war reaches us, think of the Prince Lucaerys and his sister, the North remembers!" more shouts echo in the halls as tears fill your eyes at the mention of your brother.

"Now, this is a celebration of our marriage, please, celebrate!" the halls resume their shouts and songs as Cregan leads you to your seat beside him, your glasses immediately being filled to the brim with wine. You make eye contact with your husband, giving him a grateful look, a silent thank you. He gives your hand a squeeze in acknowledgment.

As the celebrating continues Lords and Ladies of the surrounding Northern lands flood to your table, gifting you with all sorts of words and treasures–mostly it was the ladies sneakily whispering if you'd been bred proper yet–to which your response was a deep blush before sending them away. You do your best to match the names of those you read about to the faces you saw. Currently speaking to you were the Lord and Lady Mormont of Bear Island, more so the Lord Mormont and Cregan discussing recent wildling attacks further North. You and Lady Mormont faced each other in an awkward silence, Sara beside you at the high table waiting for the conversation to start.

"So... Lady Stark can we hope for some wolf pups soon, maybe even an heir to Winterfell?" of all the things she chose to speak about...

"Oh um...yes, I suppose..." You try to smile along. Sara beside you stifling a laugh

"Surprised you aren't already, those Stark men are something fierce," she continues.

"What are we speaking of now wife?" Lord Mormont chimes in. Oh no. He was a burly man, one of honor and tradition...

"Oh I was just asking the Lady Stark when we should expect a babe," she laughs, linking her arm with her husbands.

"She's not yet?" Mormont sounds exasperated, "You may be my Lord, Stark, but come on lad! You should be fucking her till your seed takes, surely it's been too long now!" your face grows redder than it was already, an uneasy look on your face, this had gone too far. Cregan could see the look on your face and immediately took control.

"That'll be enough, Mormont," his voice went lower in pitch as he reminded Lord Mormont of his place. "I think it's high time we all retired, I will send a raven when I need to speak to you, no sooner will I hear from you." Lord Mormont looked down in shame, put in his rightful place.

"Yes, My Lord, My Lady," a single bow and he and his wife were on their way, the rest of the people in the hall filling out shortly after hearing the altercation. Cregan stood and took your hand again, walking you to your chambers at a fast pace, one you could hardly keep up with. Once in the room, he slammed the door shut before throwing down his cloak and rubbing his forehead in annoyance.

"I'm so sorry, I should've warned you people in the North are very attached to customs–" you cut him off.

"When will you bed me?" you asked, genuinely confused.

"I-I believed you wanted to wait longer..." He trails off, slightly taken aback by your question.

"I'm tired of laying next to you in bed growing more and more desperate each night," you spoke your truth and saw his back straighten, eyes darkening as he walked closer to you, almost stalking you like prey, "I cannot say how many Ladies tonight asked me if you'd put a babe in me yet."

He loomed closer to you, "And what did you tell them..." the hairs on your neck stood at the deepness of his voice.

"I-I didn't say anything," you respond, head hanging down. He lifts your chin to meet his gaze.

"But what did you want to tell them?"

"That you'd fill me every night till a babe took." your voice grew confident, he was giving you the sense that this was something he deeply, deeply, desired.

"Would you like to do that?" his hand cradled your face now, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. Your breath hitches in your throat, and thoughts flood your mind about what he would be like, he was a strong man, but he was gentle with you, would he be desperate enough to take you hard?

"Give me a babe, Cregan," it was over. All sense of self-control that he held was now burning in the fire. The hand that was on your face moved to the back of your head, tugging you to meet his lips, he devoured you. It wasn't like the gentle kiss he gave you last night, it was depraved, his tongue wrapped around yours, teeth clashing together with an uncontrolled hunger. His mouth began to move down your neck and you felt him nip at you, soothing over the spot with his tongue. He began to walk backward towards the bed, still holding your body close. Your hands grew restless, grabbing onto him anywhere that you could, you soon found them tangled in his hair, tugging slightly.

His hands were roaming your body now, he was restraining himself from ripping your dress right off of you, but he knew it would make you sad, what a pretty dress. He moved his hands back, beginning to undo the buckles on his doublet, you broke away from his kiss for a moment and leaned down to remove your boots. It was all a flurry of motion as the two of you hastily began to undress yourselves, at this point, he was left in only his trousers and you in your shift and corset. You made eye contact for a moment the both of you smiling giddily. He raised his hands and started on the laces on the back of your corset, his arms were wrapped around you, your face staring straight at his chest where you grew bold and started to press kisses across the expanse. The corset–now loosened–fell from your body, Cregan could see the hardness of your nipples through the thin slip dress and proceeded to cup your breasts in his hands, tweaking the hardened peaks through the fabric. Slowly–so slowly you hadn't even noticed at first–he sank to his knees in front of you, when he reached the ground his hands started running up and down your legs caressing you while moving the shift upwards. He took one hand and placed it on the center of your belly, pushing, and in one motion you lay back on the bed, your husband still on his knees in front of you. he continued to move the dress up until it hung around your waist, you sat up on your elbows and looked down at him nervously, your center now fully exposed to him.

"Do not worry, sweet wife, I want to make you feel good," you nodded at him as he drew closer to you, his hands slowly dragging up your thighs, his thumbs rubbing the insides gently, growing closer and closer to your heat. He spread your legs further apart, looking at you once more before taking a finger and running it through your slick. You moaned out a curse and fell back onto the bed, the furs around you enveloping you in warmth. Cregan carries on running his fingers through your sex, they would barely dip inside of you before he moved them back up to circle your clit, causing a teasing repetition.

"Please, Cregan, I need more," you beg.

"More? You really have been needy," he teases, his other hand moving underneath you to squeeze your behind, "Alright, then, whatever my wife wants, she shall get." You were waiting for him to move, to get up and remove his trousers so he could fuck you. But no, his warm mouth licked a stripe up your slit and followed the same motions his fingers did, never staying in one place long enough. You cried out again, moving your hands down to tangle in his hair again. He teased you a little longer before his mouth kept place on your pulsing bud, alternating between sucking and licking at you. It was heavenly, you'd never been touched like this by a man, he was pouring all his adoration into you. And as good as it did feel, you still needed more, you felt nothing would satiate you until you were dripping with his seed.

"I-I want you to fuck me now," you barely breathe out between heavy breaths, he moves his head away from your core after pressing one last kiss to your clit. A smirk grew on his face, loving the way you were practically begging for his cock. He moved agonizingly slow, standing to his feet and staring down at where you lay on the bed. He refused to move his gaze away from you as he began untying the strings on his trousers, "please..." you breathe out in a breath of desperation. His trousers fell to the ground and you move your eyes to his center where his cock hung heavy, tip red and leaking, aching for your wetness to swallow him whole.

"You want me to fill you up now?" you nodded eagerly, itching to feel his body on top of you. He lifts you by the waist pushing your body up the bed like you weigh nothing, he removes your shift entirely now, pulling it swiftly over your head. "Tell me if you need to stop, alright? His tone shifted into seriousness. You breathe a yes in response. His body moves to hover over you and his head dips down to press gentle kisses against your chest, trailing down to lick at your nipples. You feel one of his hands reach between your bodies before the blunt head of his member runs through your slick. You grab onto his upper arms, steadying yourself as you prepare for him to push into you, he goes torturously slow and you grip onto him harder, a silent way of begging him to take you already. The stretch hurts a bit, not as bad as everyone had told you but the wetness surely helped dull some of the pain. He groans as he seats himself in you fully, not moving, you rock your hips into him trying to create some friction.

"Cregan, please, it feels so good, just take me already!" he lets out a breathless laugh at your restlessness, his mouth open and panting. He pulls out in one motion before thrusting into you again. And again. And again. This is what you had wanted, for this fierce warrior to lose himself in you fulfilling a yearning desire to fill you up completely. Your moans ring against the walls and you do your best to hold yourself together before you utterly fall apart. The bed creaks as he rocks into you, his pace growing quicker and quicker.

"Fuck!" Cregan grunts out through clenched teeth. The sight above you is heavenly, strands of his dark hair frame his face, some sticking slightly where a sweat begins to sheen on his brow. His jaw was tight, and his body was stiff, a deep concentration in his features. Then, in one sudden movement, he pulls himself out of you to flip you onto your front, yanking your hips up before plunging deep inside you again. The pleasure from this angle was insurmountable, the head of his cock hit the back of your tight walls repeatedly, fucking straight into your womb. You prayed for a brief moment, begging whatever gods were listening that his seed would take and you would soon have pups to take care of. His hands gripped your hips tight, surely there would be bruises tomorrow and surely he would feel horrible about it, but you cared not. The rawness of his passion would remain on your body. A subtle heat grew in your belly and it became warmer and warmer.

"Cregan, I-I think something is happening," you mutter from where your face was squished into the furs on the bed. He groaned out another curse before speaking again.

"Let go, let go for me," his voice still strained in pleasure, "I'm gonna fill you up now, and every. Single. Night. Until it takes," his thrusts annunciating his speech. The coil in your belly grew tighter until it finally snapped and you moaned out blissfully. His thrusts didn't stop and you grew more and more sensitive, but he did not last much longer after you, cursing out one final time before emptying himself right against your cervix.

When he pulled out of you, you could feel his expense steadily beginning to drip out of you, but his fingers soon found your center again, scooping it up before pushing it back inside of you. And if that wasn't the most arousing thing ever...

"Can't have you wasting any of that, can we?" he wipes his fingers off on the bed and climbs in under the furs, beckoning you to come lay with him. You crawl to him and fall into him unceremoniously. His arms pull you in close and hold you tight and his lips fall down to press a kiss to the top of your head. There was a smile on your face, and you weren't sure if you'd be able to stop smiling. You shift your head and turn to look him in the eye, only to find he is already looking at you, his own smile shining down at you.

"Even after a babe takes..." you begin and his eyes sparkle in the dim lighting of the chambers, "can we still do that?" his smile grows wider and he huffs out a small laugh.

"Of course! I don't know if I would be able to keep myself off of you knowing that you are carrying our child, you'll be the most beautiful mother." he lifts a hand to stroke your hair, the same way he's done the nights you've shared the past few weeks.

"Well, then I hope we'll have a little prince or princess on the way soon," his brow furrows in confusion at the titles and he asks a silent question with his eyes, "You are a king after all! Our babes will be royalty."

"I've told you, I'm no king," his eyes held back a sadness.

"As I have told you, dear husband, you are my king," it was your turn to hold his face in your hands, the stubble on his cheeks scratching against your palms, "I will know no other." he leaned down to press his forehead against yours and you sat together in the quiet of the night, with only the company of each other until you fell asleep. A sleep where you dreamed of a family with him, boys running through the godswood being chased playfully by their father, a young girl sitting upon your lap as you flew your dragon over the forests of the vast Northlands. The lands where your husband would be your king.

[norrisainz33]

New Girl Pt. 2 || GR63

☆ summary: george has a new nonfamous partner who the fans absolutely adore

☆ pairing: george russell x nonfamous!reader

☆ fc & warnings: none

☆ requested: had a few people ask for a part 2 on this one so here it is!!

part 1 here

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

mercedesamgf1 has posted a video

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mercedesamgf1: asking george all of your questions ahead of the singapore grand prix!

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user1: the way his face lights up at the mention of y/n 😭

user2: no the way he respects her privacy is so wholesome

user3: georgie is the whole package i’m sick

user4: admin you are a real one for asking about y/n

mercedesamgf1: 🤭

user5: wait i think he’s hinting about y/n getting social media

user6: omg ur so right he def is

user7: he’s clearly so in love with her i’m so jealous

user8: god i see what you have done for others!!!!!

user9: y/n is just a girl and i love it

georgerussell63 has posted to his story

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user8: she’s so pretty what the heck

landonorris: you bringing her to padel or what ?

georgerussell63: how many times are you going to ask to hang out with MY girlfriend

landonorris: dude she’s awesome and i wanna be her friend tf

georgerussell63: she said she’ll come play with us 🙄

lilymhe: GORGEOUS VIEW. i’m taking her out next

georgerussell63: double date?

lilymhe: um no , solo date just me and y/n

user10: boyfriend george is unlike any other

user13: ok lover boy

user14: ahhhh she really is in singapore with you omg

user15: we stan our unbothered and not chronically online queen

georgerussell63 has made a post

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georgerussell63: when in singapore!

[tagged: landonorris, alex_albon, ynuser]

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user12: he’s so fine

user5: 🚨🚨 HE TAGGED Y/N 🚨🚨

user6: LOSING MY MIND OVER THIS

user14: THE QUEEN HAS ARRIVED

mercedesamgf1: obligatory padel post!

landonorris: you forogt to post the part where y/n and i beat you and alex

ynuser: yeah georgie where was the acknowledgement huh?

maxverstappen1: oh i like her already @.georgerussell63

alex_albon: i have no idea what you guys are talking about

georgerussell63: my bad everyone. yes, it’s true - lando and y/n did beat alex and i in padel

alex_albon: @.georgerussell63 noooo why’d you sell us out like that

user16: i wanna take a bite out of his thigh

user23: i hope singapore treats you well george

ynuser has posted to their story

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user7: a working gal ok i see you y/n

yourbff: great first story y/n/n

ynuser: thanks bestie ,, just wait till you see my first post

yourbff: i’m glad you’re finally leaving the stone ages and joining us on social media 🤍

ynuser: lmfao you know i hate attention like this

yourbff: then you fell in love with the wrong man 😂😂

ynuser: i did not - he’s perfect!! i just have to get used to it. working on ‘coming out of my shell’ as they say 🫠

yourbff: you and your shy self are perfect the way you are!!

georgerussell63: yes you are doing it right my gorgeous girl

ynuser: thank you 🥹

ynuser: also your fans are quick i never thought id be perceived like this on the internet 🫣

georgerussell63: hahah yeah they are. i’m sorry if it’s overwhelming darling

ynuser: seems it comes with the territory!! alexandra and lily been giving me some tips so don’t worry about me

georgerussell63: glad you have them!! don’t let the fame go to your head 😉

ynuser: HA i am not famous please don’t say that 😭

landonorris: oh some quality content

ynuser: thanks lando

mercedesamgf1: welcome to instagram y/n! looking forward to seeing you in singapore!

ynuser: wow thanks mercedes!

user8: you are so normal and i absolutely love it

user10: you’re giving all us fans hope

ynuser has posted to their story

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user10: stop you making bracelets and handing them out was the cutest thing i’ve ever seen

user11: you might be my favorite wag to ever exist ,, what do you mean you made bracelets to trade 😭

georgerussell63: blimey you are so adorable

ynuser: so are you!!

georgerussell63: how did i get so lucky?

ynuser: georgie 🥹 im the lucky one

georgerussell63: i’m definitely the lucky one. you’ve changed my life in the best way possible

ynuser: brb sobbing

yourbff: i’m so jealous of your life girl

ynuser: it might all be a dream idk

yourbff: nooo stop

user27: you being so shy and timid yet still taking the time to hand out bracelets with the girlies is true peoples princess behavior

landonorris: thanks for the bracelet! i think it brought me some luck

ynuser: gotta bring george some luck next 😭

mercedesamgf1: it’s such a pleasure having you in the paddock 🤍

ynuser: thanks for looking after me admin 🤍

user12: thanks for being so sweet to me and my friend this weekend!! never change y/n!!

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ynuser: life recently can be summed up in one word.. surreal

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yourbff: absolutely fire first post tho i should have been in it

ynuser: next one you will be dw

user8: the queen has posted everyone stay calm and collected in this comment section

user11: where is that dress from i’m crying it’s so pretty

ynuser: would you believe me if i said tjmaxx?

user11: truly the most iconic answer you could have ever given

user7: you are the blueprint

georgerussell63: your beauty is surreal

ynuser: george russell you are everything

alexandrasaintmleux: stunning 🤍

ynuser: 🤍

user26: starting a y/n fan club as we speak! like this comment to join

user26: NOT GEORGE LIKING HAHAH

user27: thank you for giving us nonfamous shy girlies hope y/n 😭

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

a/n: thanks for reading!! likes and reblogs appreciated. have a few works in progress that i’m hoping to get out this week. appreciate all of your support 🫶🏻

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

disclaimer: pictures are not mine and everything i write is fiction

© norrisainz33 || please do not rewrite, translate, or copy any of my works posted here on to any other platform

[grandline-fics]

Hello! Hope your having a good day today! Can I request mihawk, shanks and buggy with the prompt "sleeping separately after an argument" You can just do one of the characters listed if your busy! Or change them into a different character it's totally fine with me! - 🪼

DESCRIPTION: Prompt: Sleeping separately after an argument

WARNINGS: slight angst, arguing couples, ends in comfort 

CHARACTERS: Mihawk, Shanks, Buggy

WORDS: 4,199

A/N: Thank you for this request! It's my first Buggy request and first time writing for him so I hope he's to your liking. I tried to keep things varied with these and are on the long side to include a happy ending.

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

DIRECTORY | PROMPT LIST

———————

MIHAWK

“So what? You were never going to send word to me that you were safe?” You’d demanded glaring at your lover that you hadn’t seen in months. Ordinarily you were used to the time and distance apart but he was always in contact with you in some regard. This time however you had no idea about his whereabouts, not until that stupid poster fluttered out of your morning newspaper and you travelled across the sea to Cross Guild to see him for yourself, otherwise you doubted he’d have ever contacted you. 

“Well you would have known from the poster’s existence that I was perfectly safe.” Mihawk answered coolly. He hated how he was speaking to you but in his clear view of the world, in the long run this would be best. Underneath his calm exterior, seeing you stroll into Cross Guild had both sent a mix of conflicting feelings through him. On the one hand he loved the sight of you and wanted nothing more than to close the distance between you and welcome you properly. On the other he felt unnerved. He hadn’t been expecting you, if he had known perhaps his approach would have been more thought out but you were the only person to ever rattle him.

All he knew was he needed you gone so he could clear his head and he needed you out of Cross Guild before Crocodile came sniffing around. Acting on instinct, he’d abruptly taken your arm and led you out of the room filled with people. He didn’t need them listening in on any private conversation of his. However you’d only let him get as far as the corridor before you pulled out of his grip and began to interrogate him over his actions. Mihawk refused to tell you the truth, he refused to admit his only worry. Now that he no longer had the protection of Warlord, you would have a clearer and larger target on your head if anyone knew you were romantically involved with him. As much as he knew you could look after yourself he didn’t want to bring any added hassle to your life, nor did he want you to change your life by remaining in Cross Guild just to give him the peace of mind you were safe. “You’ve wasted your journey coming here.”

“Don’t fuck with me, Dracule.” You snarled meeting his steady, impassive stare with your own burning in intensity. You knew he was being guarded for a reason but after all this time you were frustrated and hurt that he wasn’t being honest with you. After all you’d handled together and after proving you were strong enough to be considered his equal, he still wanted to push you away. “You don’t get to stand there and throw some generic one-liner at me. I know you better than that and I deserve better than that. Now talk to me properly and explain yourself.”

“Since when have I ever had to explain my movements?” Mihawk asked arching an eyebrow at you while you continued to glare daggers at him. It never ceased to amaze him that you could always meet his stare. “Cross Guild is new and needed my entire focus, you would have just been an unwelcome distraction and a possible liability.” 

As much as his words hurt, they baffled you even more. Hopelessly you stared up at the man in front of you, trying to understand. None of it made sense. You both knew your lives took you in separate directions and you’d never once tried to force yourself into his business just as he respected yours. The only thing you both ensured was contacting the other if something unexpected happened so neither of you worried. Had he just done that, you wouldn’t have come looking for him. You stared at Mihawk and saw he wasn’t going to give in or tell you the truth, whatever his reasons were it was clear he didn’t respect you enough to be honest then was there any point in saying anything more. 

Mihawk watched as something switched in your demeanour and the spark in your eyes seemed to snuff out. He didn’t move as you approached and reached out. When your fingers skimmed against his jaw he had to steel his nerve to not give into the temptation you always brought him. It only got worse when you leant in and pressed your lips against his. Mihawk felt his resolve begin to snap but the kiss was over just as fast as it began. You pulled back and stared at him, no longer with understanding but firm resolve and finality. “I’m glad you’re safe and I wish you the best of luck with Cross Guild.” 

With nothing left to say you left Mihawk, heading for the entrance to let the stubborn man you loved get back to his new focus only to stop abruptly when Crocodile stepped around the corridor and all but blocked your exit. You stopped and looked at the man you knew mostly from newspapers and reputation. You kept your expression even as Crocodile stared down at you, his keen observation taking you in before drifting up to Mihawk who glared warningly at his business partner. “Leaving so soon?” He asked simply, returning his attention back to you. “You just got here.”

“I was never planning on staying.” You answered dryly, stepping around the broader man only to sigh when he called after you.

“It’s too late for sailing though. There’s plenty of rooms for you to stay in if Mihawk’s room isn’t to your liking.”

“Not necessary.”

“Suit yourself, just know there’re undercover Marines camped out at the only inn on this island. I use the term ‘undercover’ lightly. Still better to know now just in case…” Crocodile’s voice floated towards you and you stopped walking. You turned to watch the man light a cigar, completely at ease. Briefly you flickered your gaze towards Mihawk and you bit your tongue. Looked like you were becoming the liability Mihawk had predicted you’d be. 

“Just show me to a room.” You muttered to a smug Crocodile. “I’ll be gone by morning.”

Mihawk couldn’t sleep. In the times he was apart from you he had adopted a talent for forcing his body to rest at least a little and grab naps here and there through necessity. However when you were both in the same vicinity as each other he could never sleep without your body beside his. Knowing you were just a few rooms away was like the cruellest form of torture. Now that he’d had the time to actually think about it all and his actions, he knew he was an idiot and had reacted and let his worries for you direct him when he should have just talked. Mihawk let out a low growl and rose from his bed. Crocodile was a smug, interfering bastard and had made sure to stop by and casually inform him which room you’d be staying in so he found you in no time. Knocking once he waited. 

Slowly you opened the door, your eyes stinging with tiredness. After all the tossing and turning you’d done your body was exhausted and so nearly ready to give in and let you sleep. Then Mihawk had to disturb that by knocking. His golden eyes scanned yours and he frowned to see the dark circles. Another thing for him to apologise for. “The last thing I want is for you to feel forced into stopping living your life how you want to. I was worried that with my Warlord status now being gone you’d be targeted to hurt me were people to find out we’re a couple. I know you can look after yourself but I’d hate to think you ever got hurt because of me. I acted poorly and pushed you away without thinking because had I really thought about it, not having you in my life was the worst thing I could think of.”

“You should have just told me sooner. You get so much more talkative when you’re sleepy, did you know that?” You asked with a small smile. “So I’m not a liability or unwelcome distraction?”

“Never a liability.” Mihawk swore, relieved that you’d stepped away from the door and allowed him to move closer to you. “A distraction most definitely but always a welcome one.”

“So I can stay?” You asked, leaning into his touch as his hand cupped your face and lowered his head so your foreheads touched, finally getting to enjoy the reunion at last. 

“For as long as you want.” 

SHANKS

“What the hell were you thinking?!” Shanks demanded angrily as he stared at you, his eyes zeroed in on the large and painful looking bruise against your cheek and your bandaged leg.  

“What do you mean ‘what the hell was I thinking’ Shanks?!” You snapped back viciously. Why the hell was he blaming you for something that was clearly an accident. “I was thinking about stopping one of the recruits from getting crushed, obviously.” 

“You weren’t even meant to be there in the first place.”

“It’s a good fucking job I was there.” You retorted, holding your ground fiercely and unwaveringly. “If it hadn’t been for me, they could have been severely injured or killed. Why are you berating me for doing the right thing?” Shanks rarely admonished you or anyone on the crew for that matter. Usually looking out for other members was something he praised. This was just so out of character for him. All you wanted was an explanation, to just understand what it was you’d done that was so bad to deserve all of the animosity. “Had Benn or Lucky been in my place would they be getting this tirade?” From outside the room you and Shanks were arguing in, Benn and Lucky shared a nervous look. Why did they have to be brought into this? Everyone on board bustled about, trying to see to their tasks without making too much noise from fear of drawing yours or Shanks’ ire.

“That’s not the point. This is about-”

“No, it very much is the fucking point.” You interrupted, your blood boiling and patience fraying. “Answer the question. Would you be speaking to them like this had they done the exact same as me?”

“They’re my right and left hands. You’re…” Shanks stopped clumsily and stared at you. This was the crux of the matter. You were different, he cared for everyone on his crew but to see you hurt had made him realise just how much he’d loved you and never faced that feeling before. He had been terrified that afternoon when he’d heard the yells, the heavy crashes of cargo falling after the ropes securing them had snapped from the strain and their age, and came across the seen of you lying on the ground. For a moment he’d feared the absolute worst and because of that, he’d reacted badly and still he was too scared to vocally tell you why. “You’re…”

“Right…” You sniffed slightly, nodding as the pieces seemed to fall into place for you. “I’m just the Captain’s current bedwarmer.”

“What? No!” Seeing the hurt in your eyes at your misinterpretation of the relationship you had, managed to jolt him out of his anger. He took a step toward you, reaching out and watched as you flinched and stepped back. “I didn’t-”

“Don’t bother.” You uttered, continuing to the door. “I’ve had enough of this.”

For the rest of the day you stayed as far away from Shanks as you could but no matter where you were you could feel his stare on you. It felt strange to not be so close, to let your presences mix together in a balanced sense of warmth and strength but at the moment you didn’t want to be near him. You didn’t want to listen to the sound of his voice that usually reassured you and made you smile. Exhausted by the events that led to the argument and the argument itself, you retired to bed early when you’d finished your dinner. Shanks said nothing but watched as you walked away, his frown deepening when he saw you walk in the opposite direction of his quarters that had also doubled as yours since you two got involved. With a long sigh Shanks rubbed his face, as much as he wanted to go after you he wanted to respect your wish for distance. 

Despite your desperate need for rest and sleep, it just wouldn’t come. You’d tossed and turned in what had been your old bed that now felt unfamiliar, simply unable to let your mind settle. With that being coupled with being unable to get comfortable in anyway you let out a long sigh and rolled over, staring at the ceiling in frustration. How did it come to the point that without Shanks your body was like a stubborn toddler, refusing the sleep it wanted and clearly needed? Absently your hand settled over your chest and you closed your eyes, trying to think about anything other than the man who you’d fallen for yet had been hurt by. Suddenly from outside your room you heard a muttered curse and dull thud. Dragging yourself out of bed you opened the door and looked down in bewilderment to see Shanks curled up in the corridor with a pillow and blanket. At the sound of the door opening he’d slowly rolled onto his back and looked up at you cautiously. “What are you doing?” You asked tiredly, leaning against the doorframe. 

“I didn’t mean to wake you…”

“You didn’t.” Your tone and expression was even but underneath it all you were unsure. “Answer the question, please. What are you doing down there? You could damage your back if you’re not careful.” 

“It’d be the least I deserve for speaking to you the way I did.” Shanks muttered, his shame evident. “I didn’t want to sleep in our bed, not without you. It didn’t feel right and I also wanted to give you space but…I still wanted to be near. This was the only thing I could think of.”

“Our bed?” You repeated with a tilt of your head. 

“Yes our bed, in our quarters.” Shanks insisted as he sat up but remained firmly on the floor. The fact that you were even willing to speak with him and that you hadn’t slammed the door in his face was enough to give him the courage to say what he should have that morning instead of running his mouth without thinking. “You’re more to me than some ‘bedwarmer,’ you always have been and I’d been too much of a coward to admit it. When I saw you hurt I feared the worst and just panicked. I shouldn’t have spoken to you the way that I had and I certainly should have told you how much I love you before now. For all of that I’m so sorry and will do what I can to make it up to you, only if you’ll let me that is.”

“Okay, three conditions and I’ll forgive you.” You conceded after a few heavy seconds and you fought to hold back your smile at the sight of Shanks’ face lighting up immediately.

“Name them.” He swore with no hesitation, watching as you knelt down beside him.

“First, I get your favourite pillow for the next month.”

“You can have it forever.” Shanks grinned, his hand sliding over your waist as you inched closer. “Next?”

“You carry me back to our room so we can sleep.” Immediately Shanks had you scooped up and was off the floor in a fluid motion that pulled a surprised yelp from your lips. In no time at all you were both back in what you now knew to be your shared quarters and not just his. Shanks settled you on the mattress, making sure your head was cushioned by the pillow you’d only jokingly wanted before he crawled under the covers and held you close. In unison you both felt peace settle over you both, the sleep that your bodies had refused was now creeping through you now but Shanks refused to fall over just yet. “What’s the third condition?”

“Tell me you love me again.” You murmured, your eyes already closed and body pressed against his chest. Shanks sleepily chuckled and held you tighter, vowing to never risk letting you go again. you were his heart after all. 

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

BUGGY

Everyone knew Buggy had a short fuse. They knew that a good mood could turn sour without any warning, all it would take would be the wrong thing at the wrong time and he’d implode his fury on the closest thing possible and it wouldn’t matter if it was to blame or not. Today it seemed you were the focus for his anger. You’d walked into the big top merely to tell your lover that he was needed by both Mihawk and Crocodile. “Hey Bug-”

“No!” You stopped mid-step when the clown’s head detached from his body and whirled through the air and glared down at you. Stunned, you could only stare into his angry eyes and listen to his vicious rant. “I have had it with the sheer incompetence of everyone! How hard is it to listen to simple instructions?” You were sure that Buggy didn’t have any idea that it was you that he was shouting at. When he got like this all he really saw was the person’s outline and no discernible features. Still though, you opened your mouth to try and calm him before his face got as red as his nose but he just got lost in his anger that had reached boiling point. “What did I just say?! Get the hell out of my sight before I use you for target practice!”

The idea of Buggy hurting you caused the amused smile and light laughter to appear out of the sheer absurdity of it all. You were the one Buggy loved, he’d never bring you harm. But all Buggy saw and heard was insubordination, mocking his authority and his status. Now that Mihawk and Crocodile were around the big top was the only place he still had any power. For someone to laugh at him here was only adding fuel to the fire. 

His hands detached and grabbed your upper arm, hauling you off your feet so you were now eye level with him. Only now did he blink through his fury and realise who it was he was about to physically punish. But still he was angry and his lack of authority had made him shaken. If he immediately apologised now, he’d seem weak. He needed those who followed him to see he was in charge. You saw the recognition in Buggy’s eyes and thought he'd lessen his hold and set you back on your feet but instead he kept you in the air. “Why do I tolerate you and your lack of respect? Just be grateful for my mercy. Keep out of my way and out of my spotlight! Is that clear?” 

 Ever since the founding of Cross Guild you'd done your best to reassure Buggy that he was still important and still powerful. You’d navigated his low self-esteem and tantrums for years, knowing him longer and better than anyone. You loved him and you knew he loved you but this made your own anger begin to light. His behaviour like this towards you would not be something you'd let him get away with but you also didn’t want him to lose face in front of the crew who were watching with held breaths. “Crystal clear, Captain Buggy.” You responded in an empty monotone. “Thank you for your mercy. The spotlight is yours and yours alone. If you can let me go I’ll keep out of your way, it won’t happen again.”

“G-good.” Buggy quickly uttered and set you on your feet before releasing your arms. His mind was slowly clearing as he watched with uncertainty as you fixed your clothes and headed for the door. Absently he wondered why you’d been in here in the first place. Dread filled his stomach now, had you come in just to visit him and unintentionally been brought into the firing line? You opened the door and refused to look his way. 

“I’ll let Mihawk and Crocodile know you’re busy, Captain.” Your remark made his eyes bug out and he was frozen in place. What did those two want with him now?! Panic filled him as he abruptly dismissed the crew and he hurried for the door you’d left through. When he was in the hallway he saw you were heading for one of the lounge rooms and not Cross Guild’s meeting room, Buggy sighed in relief. He made a mental note to talk to you after and hurried for the meeting. 

As the day wore on, Buggy’s mood lifted significantly and the morning’s incident with you was unfortunately pushed further and further to the back of his mind. It wasn't until the evening time that he realised he hadn’t seen much of you. When he passed Alvida he asked if she’d seen where you’d gone. Alvida regarded him silently, confusion pulling at her features. “On your way to apologise?”

“What does my flashy self have to apologise for?” Buggy asked with a confident grin. 

“Well this morning, remember?” Alvida asked with a smirk as realisation flickered in Buggy’s eyes. “Yelling at nothing subordinates is one thing, but your lover? You need to talk to them. Sadly I haven’t seen them since you told them to keep out of your way. Hope you find them.” Buggy watched hopelessly as the woman continued on her way, not even bothering to assist him in finding you. Grinding his teeth anxiously, Buggy continued his search. He finally found you in your shared room and with a sigh of relief, believing he didn’t need to apologise after all he flopped himself down onto the bed. 

“Been looking everywhere for you. Hey, where’re you going?” He immediately sat up when you moved for the door, watching you turn to look at him with a frown. 

“Keeping out of your way Captain Buggy.” You explained. “As per your orders.”

With a sigh Buggy prepared himself to finally apologise. “You know I didn’t mean it. Not with you.”

“But you don’t make mistakes, Captain.” You shook your head, not allowing him to talk him way out of his actions so soon. “Don’t worry I’ll keep out of your spotlight.”

“There’s no spotlight here-”

“Where you are, the spotlight follows that includes here.” Your eyes moved to the bed he was lying on. The last time you and Buggy had slept separately was when he was in Impel Down and it had been the worst time of your lives but you had to do something. Buggy knew that you’d have to be severely hurt by him to even consider putting yourself through that and he knew he was to blame for it. So he could only numbly let you leave to have some space from him. “Sleep well, Captain.”

For hours Buggy tried to sleep but it just refused to come. Even though he knew your body wasn’t beside him, his hands still searched across the cold mattress in the hopes of finding you and his head always turned towards your pillow, eyes desperate to find your face in the dark. With a sigh, Buggy rose, his lesson well and truly learned. Trudging down the silent hallways he moved to the lounge he’d seen you head towards after he’d yelled at you that morning. Stopping in the doorway he saw you lying on the sofa, staring at the ceiling with heavy eyes that stubbornly wouldn’t close. “Can I come in?”

“It’s your circus, Captain.” You mumbled, still looking at the ceiling and too tired to move. “You don’t need to ask me for permission for anything.”

“Yes I do.” Buggy insisted, slowly walking into the room and stopped at the foot of the sofa. “You’re not some subordinate and the second I realised it was you I was shouting at I should have stopped. I should have apologised. Any orders I have are for those morons, never you. I’m sorry you had to do this to make me see that.”

Finally you dropped your eyes from the ceiling to observe Buggy, seeing he was free from his makeup and flashy outfit. Not Captain or figurehead, just your Buggy. Slowly you moved your blanket aside to wordlessly invite Buggy to join you. Tiredly you smiled when he wasted no time in moving down to lie with you, his arms circling you and his lips pressing lovingly against your cheek. Buggy relished the way you relaxed against him but knew he still had a hell of a lot of making up to do and come the morning he’d do jus that until you were sick of his flashy apology and spoiling you.

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TAG LIST (If I've missed anyone or if you want to be added just let me know) @3v37773, @tsaaps , @i-am-all-love-puns-and-lazy , @sanemisnonexistenteyebrow , @fiery-captain-spider-santa @kabloswrld , @atanukileaf

[021894s]

THE GIRL FROM THE BAR ⭑ lhs

SYNOPSIS: After a tough workday, you visit a quiet bar to unwind, but are harassed by a persistent stranger. The charming bartender, Heeseung, steps in, defending you, sparking an unexpected conversation. As you connect, you feels your stress melt away, drawn to Heeseung's kindness and charm, setting the stage for a blossoming romance.

GENRE: romance, mutual pining

PAIRING: bartender!heeseung x f!reader

WARNINGS: fluff, smut, unprotected sex, oral (m & f receiving)

wc: 6.5k

It's an unusually quiet Wednesday night when you push open the door of the dimly lit bar. The cool air inside is a welcome contrast to the stifling heat of the summer evening. You make your way to the bar and take a seat, the events of your rough day still weighing heavily on your mind.

As you settle onto the stool, a man approaches, a sleazy grin spreading across his face. "Hey, beautiful," he says, leaning in closer than you'd like.

You roll your eyes, not in the mood for this. "Not happening," you reply, hoping he'd take the hint and leave you alone.

But he doesn't. "C'mon, don't be like that," he persists, his persistence grating on your nerves.

Before you can respond, a voice cuts through the tension. "Pretty sure no means no."

You look up to see a man standing behind the bar, his gaze fixed firmly on the man bothering you. The guy scoffs, looking the man up and down. "Oh, and what are you, her boyfriend?"

His expression remains calm, but there's a steely edge to his voice. "No, but I don't need to be to know how to respect women."

The man's bravado falters, and he mutters under his breath, "Whatever, you weren't that hot anyway," before slinking away.

He turns his attention to you, his features softening into a concerned expression. "Sorry about that. We get the average asshole in here every night."

You're momentarily stunned by his beauty, the way his dark hair frames his face, and the warmth in his eyes, his lean build that wasn’t remarkably bulky, but just enough to make your mind race at the thought of being wrapped in those arms. It takes you a second to find your voice. "N-no, it's okay. Thank you for that."

Heeseung smiles, a genuine and reassuring smile that makes your heart flutter. "Can I get you anything to drink?"

You manage a small smile in return, feeling the tension of your day begin to melt away. "A gin and tonic, please."

"Coming right up," he says, his hands moving deftly to prepare your drink. You watch him, fascinated by the ease with which he works, the smoothness of his movements.

When he places the drink in front of you, you take a grateful sip, savoring the way the cool liquid seems to calm your frayed nerves. Heeseung leans against the counter, his gaze steady on you. "Bad day?"

You let out a bitter laugh. "You could say that. Work was a nightmare. Everything that could go wrong did."

He nods sympathetically. "I know how that feels. Sometimes it seems like the universe just has it out for you."

You raise an eyebrow, a playful smirk on your lips. "You? I can't imagine someone like you having a bad day."

He chuckles, a low, comforting sound. "Looks can be deceiving. I'm Heeseung, by the way."

"Y/N," you say, offering a small smile in return. "So, what brought you to bartending? Surely someone like you has other options."

He shrugs, a hint of a grin playing at the corners of his mouth. "I needed a job, and I like talking to people. Plus, it's a good way to pay the bills while I figure out what I really want to do."

You take another sip of your drink, feeling the alcohol begin to take the edge off your day. "And what do you really want to do?"

Heeseung's expression turns thoughtful. "I'm not entirely sure yet. Something creative, maybe. Music or art. I just know I don't want to be stuck in a nine-to-five grind forever."

You nod in understanding, your eyes sparkling with interest. "I get that. Sometimes I feel like I'm just going through the motions, doing what I have to do to get by. It's nice to meet someone who dreams big."

"Yeah, but sometimes you need to take a step back and figure out what makes you happy," Heeseung says, his gaze intent on yours. "Life's too short to be miserable all the time. And you seem like someone who deserves to be happy."

You feel a warmth spread through you, not just from the drink but from the unexpected connection you feel with this charming stranger. You continue talking, sharing stories and laughter, and as the evening wears on, you find yourself feeling lighter, the burden of your day lifting with each passing moment.

Heeseung leans in slightly, his voice dropping to a softer, more intimate tone. "You know, I don't usually see someone as intriguing as you walk through that door. It's a nice change of pace."

Your heart flutters at his words, and you can't help but smile. "Well, I'm glad I came in then”.

By the time you finish your drink, you realize you haven't felt this relaxed in a long time. "Thank you, Heeseung," you say sincerely. "I didn't realize how much I needed this."

He smiles, a genuine, heartfelt expression. "Anytime, Y/N. Sometimes all it takes is a good conversation and a little company to turn things around."

You stand up, feeling a sense of clarity you hadn't had before. "I'll definitely be back."

"I'll be here," he says, his eyes lingering on yours. "Looking forward to it."

As you walk out of the bar, your spirits lifted and your mind clearer than it had been in a long time, you can't help but think about when you'll see Heeseung again.

Over the following weeks, you find yourself returning to the bar with increasing anticipation. Each visit seems to bring you closer to Heeseung, and your interactions grow more flirtatious and comfortable.

Heeseung greets you with a wide grin. “Look who decided to make my night again.”

“Couldn’t stay away,” you reply, sliding onto the stool. “I’ll have a gin and tonic , please.”

As he mixes your drink, he leans in a little closer than before. “You know, you’re quickly becoming my favorite customer.”

“Am I now?” you tease, meeting his gaze. “Does that come with any perks?”

“Maybe,” he says with a wink. “Depends on how many more times you show up.”

Conversation always came naturally in the time you found yourself spending with Heeseung. You’d find out something new about each other every time, like how he actually lived right above the bar. Perks of being close with the owner. It didn’t surprise you, his charms and genuinely good heart making it easy for anyone to love him.

You hadn't realized how much you’d come to rely on your nightly visits to the bar until your job started to get more demanding. The project you’d been assigned had become increasingly complex, with tight deadlines and a seemingly endless series of business trips. Each day seemed to blur into the next, and your usual escape—those comforting evenings at the bar—became a rare luxury.

One particular week, a major client needed hand-holding through a difficult negotiation, which meant back-to-back meetings and a whirlwind trip to a different city. You barely had time to catch your breath, let alone think about your next visit to the bar. The days were long, filled with endless calls and emails, and the nights were spent in sterile hotel rooms, far from the familiar warmth of Heeseung's presence.

As the days turned into a week, you couldn't help but feel a pang of regret each evening. You missed the easy conversation with Heeseung, the way his smile seemed to make your worries melt away, and the genuine connection that had formed between you. You wondered if he noticed your absence, if he missed you even half as much as you missed him.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, you wrapped up the business trip and headed back home. Exhausted but relieved, you decided to head straight to the bar, your need for familiarity and comfort driving you forward.

As you walked in, the bar was just as you remembered it, but something felt different. The usual hum of conversation and clinking glasses seemed more subdued. You made your way to your usual seat, and there he was—Heeseung, looking up from the bar with a mix of surprise and relief in his eyes.

"Y/N," he called out, his voice warm and welcoming. "Long time no see. I was starting to think ran off with a secret boyfriend "

You smile, feeling a weight lift from your shoulders. "oh yeah, couldn’t wait any longer we just had to elope." you joke back “don’t worry though you can still be my lover”

He laughs, the bright smile you missed bringing a smile of your own to your lips. "tempting. you think he’d be ok with that?"

You take a deep breath, his flirty response catching you off guard despite knowing it was coming. "what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” you flash him a smile, “seriously tho, It's been... a lot. Business trips, endless meetings, demanding clients. I’ve barely had a moment to myself."

Heeseung leans on the counter, his eyes soft with sympathy. "Sounds like you could use a drink and some serious relaxation."

"You have no idea," you reply with a tired smile. "I'll have my usual, please."

As he mixes your drink, you let out a long sigh, finally allowing yourself to relax. When he sets the drink in front of you, he doesn’t pull away immediately. Instead, he stays close, his presence comforting.

"So, tell me more," he says, his tone gentle. "What’s been keeping you so busy?"

You take a sip of your drink, savoring the familiar taste. "Where do I even start? This project I’m on has been a nightmare. We had to fly out to meet with a client who needed constant reassurance. The whole team is exhausted, and I’ve been living out of a suitcase for the past week."

Heeseung listens intently, his eyes never leaving yours. "That sounds rough. I’m sorry you’ve had such a tough time."

"Thanks," you say, appreciating his sympathy. "I’ve missed this place. I’ve missed... you."

Heeseung’s smile is soft and genuine. "I’ve missed you too, Y/N. The place hasn’t been the same without you."

You feel a warmth spread through you at his words. "Well, I’m back now. And I plan to make up for all the missed nights."

Heeseung grins. "I’ll hold you to that. You know, I was worried about you. It's not like you to disappear without a word."

"I’m sorry," you say, feeling a pang of guilt. "I should have let you know what was going on."

Heeseung shakes his head. "No need to apologize. Just glad to have you back."

As the evening wears on, you finish your drink, feeling the comforting buzz of alcohol mixed with the profound exhaustion from your grueling week. Heeseung has gotten busier, a rush of customers filling the bar and demanding his attention. He glances at you frequently, concern flickering in his eyes whenever he catches sight of you.

You try to keep your eyes open, but the combination of exhaustion and the alcohol makes it increasingly difficult. You rest your head on your hand, your eyelids growing heavier with each passing moment.

From your spot at the bar, you watch Heeseung expertly handle the crowd, his movements fluid and confident. Every so often, he throws a reassuring smile in your direction, but the bustle of the bar pulls him away each time he tries to come over to you.

Finally, the exhaustion becomes too much. Your head droops, and you find yourself struggling to stay awake. Just as your eyes begin to close, you feel a gentle touch on your shoulder.

"Y/N," Heeseung's voice breaks through the fog of sleep. "You okay?"

You blink a few times, trying to focus on his concerned face. "Yeah, just... tired."

Heeseung's brow furrows as he takes in your weary state. "Why don’t you come upstairs and rest? You’re not driving home like this."

You hesitate, shaking your head slightly. “No, it’s fine. I’ve been up longer before. I don’t want to intrude.”

Heeseung’s eyes soften, his concern evident. “You’re not intruding, Y/N. I insist. You need rest, and I have a spare room. Please.”

"Come on," he says softly, guiding you to the door at the back of the bar and up the narrow staircase to his apartment.

Once inside, he leads you to the spare bedroom and helps you sit on the edge of the bed. "Stay here. I'll get you some water and something for the morning."

You nod, too tired to do much more than mumble a thank you. Heeseung disappears for a moment, returning with a glass of water, a couple of pills, and one of his soft t-shirts.

"Here," he says, handing you the shirt. "You’ll be more comfortable in this."

You change into the t-shirt, the fabric soft and comforting against your skin. Heeseung returns with the water and pills, sitting beside you on the bed.

"Take these," he says gently, holding out the glass and pills. "They’ll help with the hangover."

You do as he instructs, feeling a bit more coherent now. "Thanks, Heeseung. For everything."

Heeseung smiles, his eyes soft with concern and something else you can’t quite identify. "Anytime, Y/N. You know I’m here for you."

You look around the room, taking in the minimalistic decor, the photos of Heeseung with his best friend Sunghoon, and pictures of his family. The personal touches make you feel closer to him, a warmth spreading through you that has nothing to do with the alcohol.

"You really have a nice place," you say softly, feeling a bit more grounded.

Heeseung chuckles, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Thanks. I’m glad you think so."

As you settle into the bed, Heeseung stands, looking down at you with a mix of concern and affection. "Get some rest, okay? I’ll be right downstairs if you need anything."

You nod, already feeling the pull of sleep. "Goodnight, Heeseung."

"Goodnight, Y/N," he replies, his voice gentle as he turns off the light and quietly leaves the room.

In the darkness, you let out a deep breath, the events of the past week finally catching up to you. But despite the exhaustion, a sense of peace settles over you. Knowing Heeseung is just a room away, that he cares for you enough to make sure you’re safe and comfortable, fills you with a warmth you hadn’t realized you were missing.

As you drift off to sleep, you can’t help but feel grateful for the connection you’ve found with Heeseung. And maybe, just maybe, there’s something more than friendship growing between you.

The next morning, you wake up to the soft light filtering through the blinds, your head surprisingly clear thanks to the water and pills Heeseung gave you last night. You stretch, feeling the comfort of his t-shirt against your skin, and remember where you are. The events of the previous evening come back in a rush, and you’re filled with a sense of gratitude and a hint of embarrassment.

You decide to freshen up, so you get out of bed and make your way to the restroom. Just as you reach for the doorknob, the door swings open, and you find yourself face-to-face with Heeseung, freshly showered, with only a white towel hanging low on his hips. His hair is damp, drops of water still clinging to his skin, and his well-defined torso is on full display.

For a moment, neither of you moves. You’re too stunned to speak, and Heeseung seems equally taken aback. His eyes widen slightly as he registers your presence, and then a slow, teasing smile spreads across his face.

"Good morning," he says, his voice a little huskier than usual. "Sleep well?"

You swallow, trying to maintain your composure despite the sudden heat rushing to your cheeks. "Y-yes, thank you. I was just... heading to the restroom."

He steps aside, still smiling. "It's all yours."

You nod, squeezing past him, trying not to brush against him too much. Once inside the restroom, you close the door and take a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart. After a moment, you gather yourself and freshen up quickly.

When you step out of the restroom, Heeseung is in the kitchen, now dressed in a t-shirt and jeans, his hair still slightly damp but styled. He’s making coffee, and the rich aroma fills the apartment.

"Feeling better?" he asks, glancing up at you with a warm smile.

You nod, walking over to join him. "Much better, thanks to you."

Heeseung pours you a cup of coffee and hands it to you. "Good. I’m glad. I didn’t want you to go through today feeling like a wreck."

You take the coffee, savoring the warmth. "You’re really kind, Heeseung. I don’t know how to thank you."

Heeseung leans against the counter, his expression thoughtful. "You don’t need to thank me, Y/N. I’m just glad I could help. You work so hard; you deserve to take care of yourself, too."

His words touch you deeply, and you find yourself smiling despite the lingering awkwardness of the morning. "Well, you’ve definitely made a fan out of me. I don’t know what I would have done without you last night."

Heeseung chuckles. "I think you would have managed, but I’m glad I was here. Besides, I like having you around."

You both fall into an easy silence, sipping your coffee. The atmosphere is comfortable, and you feel a sense of closeness that goes beyond the usual bar conversations. It's as if the bond between you has deepened overnight.

"So," Heeseung says after a moment, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Do you have any plans for today, or are you just going to recover from the week?"

You laugh softly, feeling the tension of the past days finally lifting. "I think I’ll take it easy. Maybe catch up on some sleep, watch a movie, and just relax."

Heeseung nods approvingly. "Sounds like a good plan. If you need anything, feel free to hang out here as long as you like. Mi casa es su casa."

"Thank you," you reply, genuinely touched. "I might take you up on that."

Heeseung’s smile widens. "I hope you do."

As you both finish your coffee, the morning sun streaming in through the windows, you realize that this simple act of kindness has brought you and Heeseung even closer. The easy conversation, the shared laughter, and the mutual respect all make you feel incredibly lucky to have found someone like him. Friend or someone thing more.

Heeseung’s expression brightens, and he leans forward, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “How about we make today fun? I know you said you wanted to relax, but maybe we can do something together. It doesn’t have to be anything crazy—just something to take your mind off work.”

You feel a flutter of excitement at his suggestion. “That sounds great. What do you have in mind?”

Heeseung grins. “Well, there’s a little café down the street that makes the best pastries. We could start there and then see where the day takes us.”

You can’t help but smile back, the prospect of spending more time with Heeseung lifting your spirits. “I’d love that.”

As you get ready to head out, you glance around his apartment once more, the personal touches making you feel even closer to him. The photos, the simple decor, everything speaks of the man you’ve come to care about.

Heeseung grabs his keys and turns to you, his smile warm and inviting. “Ready?”

You nod, feeling a sense of anticipation. “Ready.”

The café Heeseung mentioned turns out to be a charming little spot with a cozy atmosphere and an enticing display of pastries. As you walk in, the smell of freshly baked goods and brewing coffee envelops you, making your stomach growl in anticipation.

Heeseung leads you to a table by the window, and you both take a seat. He smiles at you, his eyes sparkling with excitement. “What do you want to try first?”

You glance at the display, feeling a bit overwhelmed by the delicious options. “Everything looks so good. Maybe we should get a few different things and share?”

Heeseung nods enthusiastically. “Good idea. I’ll get us a selection. Be right back.”

As he heads to the counter, you watch him interact with the barista, his easy charm and warmth evident in every gesture. You can’t help but feel a surge of affection for him, grateful for his presence in your life.

Heeseung returns with a tray full of assorted pastries and two steaming cups of coffee. “Hope you’re hungry,” he says, setting the tray down with a grin.

You laugh softly. “I am. This all looks amazing.”

You both dig in, sharing bites and commenting on the flavors. The conversation flows naturally, the ease between you growing with each passing moment. It feels like the perfect way to unwind after the stress of your job, and you find yourself relaxing more and more.

After you’ve sampled nearly everything on the tray, Heeseung leans back in his chair, a satisfied smile on his face. “That was a good call. I’m stuffed.”

You nod in agreement, feeling content. “Me too. Thanks for bringing me here. It’s exactly what I needed.”

Heeseung’s eyes soften, and he reaches across the table to take your hand. “I’m glad. You deserve to have a break and enjoy yourself.”

Your heart skips a beat at the tenderness in his voice. “Thank you, Heeseung. For everything.”

He gives your hand a gentle squeeze. “Anytime, Y/N. You know I’m always here for you.”

As you both finish your coffee, the café begins to fill up with the lunchtime crowd. Heeseung glances around, then back at you with a playful glint in his eye. “How about we take a walk? There’s a park nearby that’s really nice.”

You smile, feeling excited at the prospect. “I’d love that.”

You leave the café and head to the park, the sun shining brightly and a gentle breeze rustling the leaves. As you walk along the winding paths, Heeseung keeps the conversation light and playful, making you laugh with his witty remarks and stories.

At one point, you come across a small pond with a few benches nearby. Heeseung leads you to one of the benches, and you both sit down, enjoying the peaceful surroundings.

He turns to you, his expression thoughtful. “You know, I’ve really enjoyed spending this time with you, Y/N. It’s nice to see you relax and have fun.”

You smile, feeling a warmth spread through you at his words. “I’ve enjoyed it too, Heeseung. You make everything better.”

Heeseung’s eyes hold yours, a hint of something deeper flickering in their depths. “I’m glad to hear that. You mean a lot to me, Y/N.”

Your breath catches at the intensity of his gaze, and you feel a rush of emotion. “You mean a lot to me too, Heeseung.”

For a moment, the world seems to fade away, leaving just the two of you in a bubble of shared feelings and unspoken words. The connection between you feels stronger than ever, and you realize that what you have with Heeseung is something truly special.

Heeseung breaks the silence first, his voice soft. “I’m really glad you came into the bar that night. It feels like we’ve known each other forever.”

You nod, your heart full. “Me too. It was the best decision I’ve ever made.”

The following week, after a particularly easygoing day at work, you decide to stop by the bar for your regular visit. The familiar sight of the dimly lit interior and the hum of conversations usually bring you comfort, but tonight, something feels off.

As you walk in, your eyes immediately land on Heeseung behind the bar. Relief washes over you, but it’s short-lived. Standing in front of him is a blonde girl, effortlessly beautiful, with a radiant smile. She's leaning over the counter, clearly flirting with him.

You freeze for a moment, feeling a pang of something sharp and unwelcome in your chest. Jealousy. It's a bitter taste, one you’re not used to, but there it is, gnawing at you as you watch them. The blonde girl is everything you feel you’re not—gorgeous, confident, and completely at ease.

Heeseung laughs at something she says, and it’s a sound you’ve come to cherish. But hearing it now, directed at someone else, it feels like a punch to the gut. You glance down at your work attire, feeling frumpy and out of place compared to her chic outfit.

Taking a deep breath, you steel yourself and walk towards the bar, determined to act like everything is normal. As you approach, Heeseung’s eyes meet yours, and for a brief moment, his smile falters. He quickly recovers, but you can see the flicker of surprise and perhaps guilt in his eyes.

"Hey, Y/N!" Heeseung greets you with his usual warmth, but you can’t help but notice the way the blonde girl glances at you, her expression curious but dismissive.

"Hi, Heeseung," you reply, forcing a smile. You sit down a few seats away from the blonde, not wanting to intrude but unable to completely leave.

Heeseung shifts his attention to you, his gaze lingering as if trying to gauge your mood. "The usual?" he asks, already reaching for a glass.

"Yeah, thanks," you say, your voice coming out steadier than you feel.

The blonde girl pouts a little, clearly annoyed by the interruption. "I was just telling Heeseung about this new club that opened downtown," she says, trying to pull his focus back to her. "Maybe he could come check it out with me sometime."

You feel your heart sink further at her words, but you try to keep your face neutral. Heeseung, however, surprises you. He doesn’t immediately respond to her invitation. Instead, he finishes making your drink and slides it over to you, his hand brushing yours ever so slightly.

"Here you go, Y/N," he says, his voice soft. Then he turns to the blonde girl, his smile polite but distant. "I'll think about it, but I’m pretty busy these days."

The blonde girl looks disappointed but doesn’t push further. She lingers for a few more minutes, trying to engage him in conversation, but Heeseung’s attention keeps drifting back to you. Eventually, she gets the hint and leaves, though not without casting you one last curious glance.

As soon as she’s gone, Heeseung leans across the bar, closer to you. "You okay?" he asks, concern evident in his eyes.

You take a sip of your drink, the familiar taste grounding you a little. "Yeah, just a long day," you reply, managing a small smile.

Heeseung studies you for a moment, then nods. "Well, I’m here if you need to talk," he says, his voice gentle.

You nod, feeling a bit better knowing he cares. The jealousy still lingers, but seeing the way he prioritizes you over her, even subtly, helps ease some of the sting. For now, that's enough.

Over the next few minutes, the bar starts to fill up, and Heeseung gets busier, but he still finds moments to check on you, giving you reassuring smiles or quick touches on your hand whenever he passes by. It helps, but the image of the blonde girl still lingers in your mind, gnawing at your insecurities.

You watch Heeseung work, marveling at his ease and grace. He moves behind the bar with practiced efficiency, chatting with customers, mixing drinks, and flashing that charming smile. It’s clear why people are drawn to him.

“Another drink?” Heeseung asks, stopping in front of you.

“Sure,” you reply, handing him your empty glass.

As he makes your drink, you can’t help but blurt out, “She seemed nice.”

Heeseung glances at you, a small smirk playing on his lips. “Who? Amelia?”

“Yeah, her,” you say, trying to keep your tone casual.

“She’s a regular. Comes in every now and then,” he explains, sliding your drink over. “But I wouldn’t read too much into it. She flirts with everyone.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Everyone?”

“Everyone,” he confirms, his smirk widening. “It’s just her way.”

You nod, feeling slightly better but still uneasy. “Well, she’s really pretty.”

Heeseung leans closer, lowering his voice. “So are you, Y/N.”

You blink, caught off guard by his comment. “I—what?”

“I mean it,” he says, his eyes sincere. “You’re pretty, and you’re interesting. I enjoy our conversations a lot more than random flirtations.”

You feel your cheeks heat up, and you look away, flustered. “Thanks, Heeseung.”

“Anytime,” he replies softly.

Just then, a group of rowdy customers enters the bar, and Heeseung has to attend to them. You take a deep breath, letting his words sink in. It feels good to hear that from him, to know he sees you differently.

As the evening progresses, the crowd in the bar begins to thin out. Heeseung wipes down the counter, glancing at you with a playful smile. He sets down his cloth and approaches you, the energy between you two crackling with unspoken words.

“You know, Y/N,” he says, leaning closer, “I’m due for a break. Mind if I join you for a bit?”

“Not at all,” you reply, your heart racing with anticipation.

Heeseung slips around the bar and takes a seat next to you. He stretches his legs out and leans back, looking more relaxed than you’ve ever seen him while working. His scent infiltrates your nostrils. The cologne he was wearing wasn’t remarkably strong, but it mixed with the scent of fresh laundry and a little sweat. You thought the combination worked quite well. “So, how’s your night going so far?” he asks, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

“It’s better now that you’re here,” you say, your voice soft and genuine.

Heeseung laughs, a sound that sends warmth through you. “Glad to hear it,” he says. “It’s nice to get a break and actually talk to you without having to rush around.”

“I was thinking the same thing,” you say, feeling a growing confidence. “It’s good to have some uninterrupted time with you.”

Heeseung’s eyes lock onto yours, and the intensity of his gaze makes your pulse quicken. “I’ve been looking forward to this all week,” he admits. “It’s like the highlight of my Fridays.”

You smile, feeling a thrill at his words. “Really? I didn’t know I had such an effect on you.”

“You have no idea,” he says, his voice dropping to a low, intimate tone. “I find myself thinking about you more than I probably should.”

You laugh softly, feeling a blush rise to your cheeks. “I guess that makes two of us then.”

Heeseung shifts closer, his arm brushing against yours. “You know, Y/N,” he says, his voice husky, “I’ve been wanting to ask you something.”

“What’s that?” you ask, your breath catching.

“Do you want anything to eat?” he asks, his eyes searching yours.

You feel a little disappointed at his question. You’re not quite sure what you expected but if your were being honest, you were hoping he’d finally ask you out. Moving past the disappointment, you feel a sudden surge of boldness, you lean in slightly, your lips curving into a mischievous smile. “You,” you reply, your voice barely above a whisper.

Heeseung’s eyes widen slightly in surprise before a slow, delighted smile spreads across his face. “Is that so?” he murmurs, his voice thick with amusement and something deeper.

“It is,” you confirm, holding his gaze.

The playful banter between you intensifies, and Heeseung inches closer, his face now mere inches from yours. “you sure you can handle me baby?” he says softly, his breath mingling with yours.

For a moment, the world around you seems to disappear. Heeseung’s eyes are locked on yours, and you can feel the magnetic pull between you. He inches closer, his breath mingling with yours, and you realize that this moment could change everything.

“Wanna find out?” you ask, your heart soaring with anticipation.

Heeseung takes hold of your hand, leading you through a door at the back of the bar, up a narrow staircase that creaks under your feet. The air grows warmer, and the intimacy of the space makes your pulse race.

Heeseung unlocks the door and pushes it open, revealing a cozy, modest apartment. The soft glow of a lamp casts a warm light over the room, highlighting the simple, comfortable furnishings. It feels like a sanctuary, a place where the rest of the world fades away.

Heeseung turns to you, his expression serious but tender. “I want you to feel comfortable here,” he says. “If at any point you want to stop, just let me know.”

You step closer, reaching out to touch his arm. “I trust you, Heeseung,” you say, your voice steady despite the butterflies in your stomach.

He smiles, a mixture of relief and desire in his eyes. “Come here,” he murmurs, pulling you into his arms.

The embrace is electric, and you feel the tension between you dissolve as you melt into each other. Heeseung’s lips find yours in a kiss that is both gentle and passionate, a promise of everything you’ve both been yearning for.

He leads you further into the apartment, his hands never leaving yours. The world outside fades away as you step into the intimacy of his space, every touch and whisper drawing you closer together.

Heeseung guides you to the couch, sitting down and pulling you onto his lap. The feel of his body against yours is intoxicating, and you lose yourself in the sensation of his hands exploring your back, your sides, your face.

“You drive me crazy, you know that?” Heeseung murmurs against your lips, his voice filled with a raw honesty that makes your heart ache.

“I know the feeling,” you reply, your fingers threading through his hair.

You leaned in and kissed him again. The kiss becoming hungrier, the both of you unfraid to show how needy you were for each other.

You could feel his growing length pressing against your clothed core, the both of you letting out a small moan when you ground your hips against him.

He reached down and pulled up your skirt, slipping his fingers inside your panties and finding you wet and ready for him “shit baby you’re so wet”. You gasped as he stroked your clit, his long, slender fingers applying just the right amount of pressure to get you squirming on top of him.

“shit, seung feels so good” his fingers slide down your folds, prodding at your whole. Without warning he slips one in, that singular finger reaching places you haven’t with your own. “You’re all I’ve wanted since I met you”, Heeseung tells you, his words making you clench around him , “m-me too”. He quickens his movements inserting a second, and then a third, the coil in your lower belly snapping at his “seung im cumming” you hardly manage to get out.

“let go for me baby, show me how good I make you feel” without another word, you’re coming undone.

Desperate for more, you reach to unbutton his pants pulling out his hard dick. It was long and thick. You didnt deem it possible for a penis to be considered pretty, but that’s the only word you could think of at the sight in from of you. You couldn't wait to feel him

“like what you see?” he asks. confidence in his voice, it was a stark contrast from how gentle he was towards you on your frequent visits to the bar. It made him all the more desireable. “mhm more than like”

You wrapped your lips around his mushroom tip and sucked him deep into your mouth. His length being enveloped bya warmth that had his eyes rolling to the back do his head. “shit baby”.

You clench around nothing, the newfound nickname one you never watched to stop hearing.

He groaned and grabbed your head, running his fingers through your hair, gripping it. You could feel him getting closer to cumming, but You didn't want him to just yet. You pull away and His eyes shoot open, looking at you with confusion “are you okay?” you smirk at him, climbing up from your spot and straddling his lap “mhm i’m more than okay”. You guided his dick to your entrance, teasing the tip on your slick. You slowly sank onto his cock, a low groan escaping his throat at the newfound feeling of your tight, wet heat.

“hee” you moaned, digging your nails into his shoulder at the feel of him stretching you so deliciously. “I got you pretty, s-shit you feel so good around me” He smashes his lips against yours, capturing you in a hungry kiss.

He pulls out slowly, whining at the loss, only to let out a loud moan as he slid back in, inch by inch until he was buried to the hilt. He repeated the action several more times until you grew frustrated with the pace. “Hee, please go harder”. At your plea, he snaps his hips forward, faster and harder, making you cry out in pure pleasure.

He grabbed your hips and thrust up into you, harder and faster, “y/n… come on baby cum for me”. You could feel yerself getting closer to cumming. You leaned back and ground your hips against him, rubbing your clit against his pelvis.

“hee i’m so close”. He reached up and squeezed your tits, pinching your nipples “so close, I can feel it”. You moaned, your pussy clenching around his dick. Felling you come undone around his cock, he couldn't hold back any longer. He grabbed your hips and pulled you down, cumming deep inside you. “f-fuck baby. so good”.

You pull yourself off his lap, collapsing next to him onto the couch, He joins you not a minute later, pulling you to him, your heard laying on his chest, hearing the quickened beats of his heart begin to settle down back into their normal rhythm. You lay there, panting and sweaty, for a few moments.

"I’ve been wanting to do that since I first saw you” He confessed. You couldn’t help but laugh at his honest revelation. “yeah well, at least i’m not the only one”, you tell him, a smile spreading across your face, as you look up at him.

He grinned down at you leaning in to press a soft kiss on your lips. "so…" he started as he pulled away, “I don’t want this to be a one time thing… but I also don’t want it to be casual”.

Your heart skipped a beat the moment you heard his confession. You’d fallen for him the moment you met, and the time you spent together did nothing to but increase those feelings. “well it’s a good thing I feel the same way then”, You smile, your big brown eyes bright, filled with promise as you kissed him again. The promise that you wanted him just as much as he wanted you.

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[jarofstyles]

Appetency 2

Welcome to the other half of Appetency 🫶 I left it off wholesome, so I’ll give you the smut you deserve now lol. Thank you for such a good reception to it, I had no idea you guys would like them this much!

Part One

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WC- 8.9k

Warnings- smut, penetration and oral (both receiving) unprotected sex, soft Dom H, cum play, cockwarming, etc etc etc

Harry was warm.

After he had eaten and changed, he lounged back on her couch, making himself back at home at her place. He’d seemed to have no problem doing that. It had done something to her to see her make the furniture look smaller, but she recollected herself. When he patted his lap, however, she shocked him by crawling onto his thighs and sitting across them.

Back again, she was wrapped up in his arms as one of his hands dragged up and down her bare waist while the other sat leisurely on her hip.

He slid his hands down to her thighs, his palms warm against her bare skin. He loved having her like this, perched on his lap like a precious toy he could play with whenever he wanted. She hadn’t seemed to mind the manhandling as he shifted their positions, a giggled squeal all the protest she let out.

He pulled her closer, his body pressed up against hers. His hands continued to roam over her bare waist and brushed over the waistband of those stupid pants that had been working him up the whole night. Of course he’d been behaving the best he could, but the promise of kissing had held him to it. "You're feeling pretty naughty tonight, aren't you?"

“No.” She grinned, face completely opposing what her words said. “I just… I dunno.” She looked down to his chest. “You work out a lot, huh?”

Harry's smile widened as he felt her gaze shift to his chest. He was feeling rather smug, having her sitting in his lap like this after where they’d started. His hands slid further up her thighs, his fingertips tracing small circles against her warm fabric. "Yeah, I work out a lot. Do you like it?" he asked, trying to keep from feeling smug.

“Yeah. You’re just… I don’t know how to describe it. I feel safe with you like this. And I like when you hold me.”

Harry's smile softened at her words, the playfulness melding into true fondness. Of course he loved that she felt safe in his arms, and he loved that she even admitted it. It was a vulnerability in its own way, one that she hadn’t given him much of prior. He wrapped his arms further around her waist, shifting so that she was even tighter against his strong chest. "I like holding you, too." He murmured, his voice soft and low but audible over the TV.

It was hard to muster up the nerve to ask outright, but the ball was in her court. He had given her control in that regard and he wasn’t going to do anything without her saying so, but she could feel him looking at her lips. He’d been staring most of the night. “I think…” She’d been thinking all night, really. For days. But he didn’t know that part. “I think we should kiss. I think you’ve been really nice to me tonight and you deserve a reward for it.”

Harry's heart rate quickened at her words. He had been holding himself back for days, respecting the desire to go as slow as she needed to go. But now, hearing her actually say that she wanted him to kiss her was like a dream. Hands cupped her face, gently tilting it up to look at him. His eyes were darkened with a mixture of desire and affection as he looked down at her pretty face. "I think you're right." He murmured, his voice husky as he took the time to observe her the way he wanted.

Harry's thumb brushed across her lower lip, his touch gentle and yet solid. He had been craving the feeling of her lips against his, and now that it was about to happen, he could barely contain himself. The man had been so good, and now he was getting exactly what he needed. Good things came to people who wait, he was finding out.

It was slow as he leaned in, closing the distance between them. His lips found hers in a soft, slow kiss. It was gentle, tentative at first, as if he were afraid of going too fast and scaring her off. But as she responded, he deepened the kiss, his tongue delving into her sweet mouth to taste her the way he’d been desperate for.

Her response was all the encouragement Harry needed to let go of his restraint.

His tongue explored her, tangling with hers in a passionate kiss. He wanted more, needed more, and the feel of her perfect body pressed against his was driving him wild. It was something he’d been essentially edged on after the memory of how perfect it had been the first time, and it brought him right back. He shifted, pulling her up so that she was straddling him so he could have better access to those lips he’d been daydreaming about.

“Is this okay?” He paused to ask her, panting against her lips. “You’re alright?”

“Mhm.” She nodded with her eyes still closed, her nose brushing against his. “I’m so good. Keep kissing me.” The manhandling had made her want to scream in the best way. He’d handled her like a doll, and she loved every single second. For someone who was so loving of control in her life, it felt incredible to let him take the lead. Let him physically move her where he wanted, kiss her how he craved.

Sure, she knew they should probably be slower. Warm up, show more restraint, but she didn’t want to. She wanted him to kiss her like he wanted to. While he had been edged- so had she.

With confirmation, he captured her lips in another deep kiss, his tongue sliding against hers as he devoured her. It was clear that he wanted her. He wanted her so badly it was almost painful.

Her fingers tangled in his hair, tugging slightly on accident. She went to apologize, but there was quickly shown there to be no need. The response had been him letting out a low groan against her mouth, a surprise reaction. He’d liked his hair played with, but she’d not expected the hair pulling thing with him.

Harry was lost in the feel of her lips against his, that softness of her body pressed flush against his chest. But as soon as she pulled on his hair, the sensation sent a bolt of pleasure through his body. He let out a low groan, his hands flexing on her. He hadn't expected to love the feeling of fingers tangled in his hair so much, but there was something about it that had him feeling desperate for another taste.

"Do that again." he growled, the words low and needy. “Tug.”

Y/N needed no second command, repeating the action and feeling her tummy heat up as she watched his head fall back, face paint with pleasure as she tightened her grip. It was hot, so hot that she knew that she wanted to keep seeing him like this. “Yeah?” She whispered, letting her other hand run her nails over his scalp. “You like that?”

Another low moan fell from Harry's lips as she repeated the action, his head falling back against the couch and his eyes fluttering shut. He loved the way she was teasing him, the momentary spark of pain her fingers tugging in his hair sending sparks of pleasure shooting through him. "God, yes." he hissed, his voice dark and rough. "Keep doin’ that."

Harry's body shuddered as she continued to tease, his hands gripping her hips as he pulled her against him. The sensation of her touch was driving him wild, and he let out another low moan. His body was taut with tension, and he was clearly struggling to keep himself contained. “Fuck, baby.”

Y/N knew she was the one who said they had to behave, but that was before this. Before she was reminded how good he could kiss, how good his hands felt on her body, how gorgeous he was when she made him feel good.

Why had she wanted slow again?

Her poor core ached and she could feel him thickening underneath her, so she decided to give them both a little relief. Rolling her hips, she rubbed herself against the hardness that had grown obvious underneath her, lips pressing over his jaw as she continued tugging his hair.

Harry's eyes darkened as she rolled her hips against him. He couldn't help but push back against her, trying to get more friction. The man let out a low moan as she continued to rub herself against him, the lips on the sensitive spot on his neck, the feeling driving him wild. "God, you're driving me insane." he growled, his voice thick with desire. He tilted his head back, giving her better access to his throat. "Don't stop."

Letting out another low groan in his throat as she continued to roll her hips against him, he watched as she rubbed herself against his thickening length. “Fuck, that feels so good.” He urged, his hands gripping her hips tightly as he lifted his hips up to meet her own.

Harry was beautiful like this. Head tilted back against the couch, hands on her hips as he guided her against his thickening cock, the rocking nudging her clit each time through her thin leggings.

“Harry…” she whispered. “I know I said we should go slow… but this feels so good.” Her forehead pressed against his as she breathed him in, feeling his cock twitch under her.

The man groaned in agreement, his hips grinding up to meet hers as she rolled them against him.” I know what you mean…” he panted, his breathing heavy as he felt her clit through the thin fabric of her leggings. "I jus’ don't want to rush this..."

“Me either, but…” Pressing herself down harder, she let out a weak gasp, feeling all of her mental walls start to crumble. Part of her briefly wondered if she’d regret going past this, but she knew she wouldn’t. Harry had been proving himself time and time again as the days had gone on, never once complaining seriously about the speed she had asked to go… and their sex prior had been so good it was coming back in waves every time she thought about it. “God, I missed you touching me like this.”

He moaned at the feeling of her grinding down against him harder, the feeling almost too much to handle. "You were the one who wanted to take things slow... but fuck, you're making it so hard." he groaned, thrusting up against her as she mentioned missing his touch.

"Fuck, you're so hot..." he laughed under his breath as he continued to rock his hips up against hers, the friction from the movement starting to become unbearable. It felt too good, and he knew if he didn’t stop he could easily orgasm just like this.

It was when her hands tugged at his hair again, he finally lost the battle. Self control slipping, a loud groan escaped his lips as he thrust up against her, the movement causing their clothing to bunch up between them a little. "Fuck, baby… Please, like that. Kiss me" He cursed out, lips connecting with hers again.

Y/N let out a weak moan, let him move her on top of him. Their clothing was evil, she thinks. Evil and downright rude for keeping her from feeling him completely. The notion of slow, the mere thought of getting off of his lap had her whimpering into his mouth, grinding back against him the best she could. “You’re in control. It’s your turn.” she whispered. “I trust you.”

The words "I trust you" sent a surge of power through Harry. He felt like he had conquered something he’d been yearning after for ages, and finally getting the permission to show her just how much he wanted her. Gently pushing her back, he broke the kiss to look at her. His eyes were filled with adoration as he spoke. "Good girl... Y’can always trust me."

With a gentle smile, Harry carefully moved, lifting Y/N with him in his arms, laughing at the squeak of surprise as he shifted her on his lap, smoothing out her hair as he looked at her. "How far do you want this to go?” His cock was throbbing with need, but he wanted a limit before he indulged.

“All the way. Everything.” Y/N knew what she said, she knew she had been the one to pause all physical things between them but just a singular taste had reminded her of the immense chemistry between them. It was no wonder they had such an intense relationship before- even if it was negative. Passion had always been there- it just needed to be channeled a different way. “You can touch me however you want. I need it.” Her hand reached for his wrist. “Need you.”

Harry's heart skipped a beat at her words. He was drowning in desire for her- it would be a pleasant death. Slowly he let his his hand wrap around her wrist and brought it to his lips. He kissed her knuckles softly before speaking "Okay, Angel... I'll give you everything you need."

With a hand curled around her waist, he whispered in her ear, "This gonna be a fuckin' experience." He took her mouth in a deep kiss, tongue sliding against hers.

With her hand in his, he helped her move from her position to sit higher on top of him, groaning at the view he had been blessed with. Her little crop top exposing her tummy, leggings clinging to her legs, he couldn’t get enough. His hand settled on her waist as a slow smirk stretched across his lips. Looking her over, he let out a sigh, nose brushing against hers as he got closer. "Fuck, you're gorgeous, baby. M’gonna have so much fun with you ..."

Harry’s hands slipped further up her top, letting their breathing mingle as he approached her ribs- only to find the lack of bra. He’d been unsure if it was just a thin one, having seen her nipples hardened against the cotton, but it was abundantly clear that she had forgone the undergarment entirely.

Letting out a ragged breath, he couldn't help himself as he explored the lack of bra with his own hands. "Fuck, baby... no bra today?" His fingers grazed against the nipples, eliciting a soft gasp from her. He wanted more.

“No.” She whispered, breathing quickening as he brushed his thumbs rubbed back and forth over the hardened buds. It was surprising considering she wasn’t usually very sensitive with them, but something about the way he was touching them… maybe just him in general. it had her feeling hot, itching to get it off. “Take it off. please.”

Harry could feel her body temperature rising, heating up as he played with the nipples. It was unreal, finally getting to touch her again. The way she pleaded for it had his dick twitching in his pants, anticipation running through him. He took a deep breath, the words “please” leaving her lips had him inching his fingers up her sides before he hooked them in the soft blue fabric. Carefully, he trailed them up, past her ribs and up and over her tits before tugging onto the fabric and pulling it over her head, exposing her chest for his eager, hungry eyes.

His eyes widened as he took in the sight of her bare tits, the soft, smooth skin and the hardened nipples standing out. They were beautiful. There was no hesitation as he cupped them into his hands, letting out a shaky sigh at the feel of them. It was even better than his memory of them. He loved how they fit perfectly in his palms and how they bounced when he moved them…. They were exactly what he wanted.

“Do you like them?” Y/N could tell he did just by how he was staring, almost like he was in pain- But she wanted to hear it from him. His hands cupping them, warm and large, she ached for more. For his mouth, for him to play with her nipples, something. Anything. “Don’t know if you remembered them from last time…”

Harry's hands gently squeezed around her tits, his thumbs rubbing over the nipples in a slow, maddening circle. "I remember every fucking detail, baby," He whispered, his voice husky with desire. "These perfect tits, how they fit in my hands, how they look when you move f’me..."

Without warning, he lowered his head and suckled her right nipple into his mouth, the sensation enough to make her cry out, before letting go with a soft ‘pop’. "You taste so damn good, everywhere." His voice vibrated against her skin, barely pulling back.. Harry's mouth wrapped around her nipple again, his tongue swirling around it in circles before he suckled harder, his cheeks hollowing out as he pulled on the sensitive bud. He released it with a satisfied hum and moved to her other nipple, giving it the same treatment, his fingers tweaking and rolling the other one.

“Oh, fuck.” Y/N dragged out the curse, fingers returning to his hair as she sat up in his lap to give him better access to her. It hadn’t felt this good before, a new sensation to her as she pulled him in slightly into her plush chest. “That feels so fucking good.”

Harry groaned at the feeling of her soft tits pressed against his face, her fingers threading through his hair and pulling him closer. "Glad you like it," he said, before returning his attention to her nipple, sucking on it with more fervor this time.

Harry's hands were in constant motion, squeezing and massaging her breasts and teasing her nipples between his fingers. He was worshiping them, showing her just how much he loved them and how much he had missed them.

The man was honestly in heaven as he worshiped her tits, his tongue tracing the outline of her breast and his fingers tweaking and pinching her nipples. He couldn't get enough of them and he could spend hours just loving on them, but he knew they had other things to do. He would very much ensure he had hours dedicated just to her breasts later on down the line.

“Shit, baby.” Harry whispered against her skin, kissing up her clavicle. “You are perfect… but I know you need some more from me. Don’t you?” Fingers slipped down between them, cupping her poor, hot cunt through her leggings. “Oh.. my poor baby. S’aching, isn’t it?” Harry's cock throbbed as he kissed his way up her neck, his fingers teasing her through her leggings. He knew she needed some release and he was going to be the one to give it to her. "Do you want me to take these off, princess?"

“Yeah.” She mewled, rocking her hips against his hand. it was firm and his grip was solid, oddly arousing for her as he shifted his other hand from her breast to the waistband of her leggings. Taking the hint when he patted her hip, she stood in front of him to let him take them off. “Do it.”

Harry grinned at her eagerness and wasted no time sliding her leggings down her legs, revealing her bare, soaking wet pussy. "Fuck, Me," he growled, taking in the sight of her. “Jesus… did you just say ‘fuck it’ to all your underwear?” The minx wasn’t wearing panties, either. “Planned on doing this to me? Makin’ me lose my damn head and wanted me t’get my hands on this perfect cunt?”

Chuckling at her coy little smile in response, he got his answer. Of fucking course, she did. "I personally didn't plan on this happening, but I'm not complaining." He leaned in and kissed her tummy, his hands roaming her body. He broke the string of kiss and whispered against her silky skin. "You're perfect. Don’t think I can say it enough."

He took her in his arms again, his hard cock pressing against her bare wetness. Carefully, he lifted her off the ground and adjusted her to lay on the sofa, spreading her thighs out for him to get a good look at the glistening cunt he was about to get his hands on again.. His mouth nearly watered as he took her in, the slick little slit and groomed thatch of hair on her mouth. “Mm… I like this.” He ran his fingers over it.

“Harry.” Y/N whimpered, desperation coating the word. Making him wait hadn’t just effected him- no. She had edged herself, too. She was just as desperate for him to touch her, devour her with his mouth like he did so liberally with his eyes. “Please…”

“So polite.” He crooned, nose running over her mound. “Since y’have manners… let me take a taste of this.” With a low, hum of appreciation Harry’s head dipped fully between her thighs. He let out hot breaths against her folds before using his thumbs to spread her open. His tongue flicked out and lapped at her clit, making Y/N’s hips buck off the sofa with the sudden pleasure. Harry laughed against her wet heat but didn’t stop- He had only just gotten started. He lavished her cunt, worshiping every inch as if it was a religious experience.

Harry’s tongue flicked out, tracing her clit with a gentle touch before he sucked it into his mouth. Y/N couldn't help the way she moaned as his suction intensified, making her slowly grind her hips up against his face. She was making a mess of him, but he didn’t seem to mind at all. Even more so, he hummed happily against her clit, the sound of soft sucking filling the room. He was being gentle with it, but there was no doubt of who was running this show.

Harry spread her thighs even wider, baring the sweetest part of Y/N to his hungry mouth and roaming eyes as he began to properly eat her out. His tongue lapped at the plump glands of her labia, lathering the delicate skin with heavy strokes. His eyes were almost glazed over with his own pleasure, as if eating her out was a euphoria in itself. When he switched to sucking at her clit again, it was with even more vigor, and his tongue sucked and darted messily against the sensitive bundle of nerves.

Y/N's back arched off the sofa, her fingers tangled in Harry's hair as she held him against her throbbing cunt. She was making the whiniest, most desperate sounds as she rode his face, her juices dripping down his chin and neck as he sucked and licked at her clit with reckless abandon.

Her eyes rolled back in pleasure, her head thrown back as she moaned so loud she would be embarrassed if she was in her right mind and not in the depths of being licked out better than she had ever experienced. Her entire body trembled with need, hips bucking wildly as Harry continued his onslaught of wet and sloppy kisses all over her clit. The man looked up at her, his face drenched in her with pure lust in his eyes, his chin all wet and shiny and dripping. “You’re so beautiful.” he mumbled, swiping his tongue across his lips to taste her.

She couldn’t help it. Y/N reached for his face, pulling him up to kiss him. She didn’t care about the mess, tasting herself on him, anything- she just needed the intimacy.

Harry happily obliged her, kissing her back with messy passion, sliding his tongue into her mouth to mingle their tastes. His wet cunt-soaked fingers trailed down her body and slipped between her thighs, slipping one inside of her entrance. Gently, he thrust his finger inside her, loving the way she moaned against his lips, still fucking her needy pussy with slow, steady strokes as he kissed her.

Harry pulled back slightly, plunged another finger into her wet, molten heat, and watched with rapt attention as she cried out, bucking her hips hungrily. Every single moment of this was a fantasy come to life. He hooked his finger upwards, finding her spot, swollen and tender with need for attention. “There you go, sweetheart. Work that pussy on my fingers.”

Y/N laughed in disbelief. Why had she waited for this? Her own fingers had absolutely nothing on him. His were thicker, longer, reaching where she couldn’t. In any other scenario, she’d be embarrassed by the squelching, how wet he was getting her, but from the pride on his face she really couldn’t.

Harry smirked as she writhed, hips moving into his hand as she whined against his mouth.. He knew he was good, but he didn’t realize how much different this would feel with someone he actually liked- someone he cared about. He loved how she moaned, gasping, how her cheeks got deliciously hot. When he took his hand away, he was surprised as she released a disappointed whine.

“No…” She pleaded. “I was so close.”

Harry shook his head, pulling away from the kiss. He was still fully clothed, and he didn’t like it. “No, no, baby- I want you to be close when you cum for me.” He murmured against her lips before sitting back further and stripping down completely. Dragging his shirt over his head, he smirked as she looked over his tattooed torso. “Waited for this, m’not gonna have you cumming unless its around my cock.”

Her mouth dropped open slightly, as she watched him strip. He was so much more than she imagined in all the right ways. The way his muscles rippled, the way his tattoos peeked out with intricate pictures and patterns, swirling and dancing across every part of him. Of course she had seen him before, she knew he was attractive, but with all her walls down and her attraction for him now in the open, she was seeing him for the first time unfiltered.

Their last hookup had been quick, mostly clothing on, so this was new. She’d seen his arms, she had glimpses of his tattoos from those slutty shirts he wore barely buttoned, but seeing it in all its glory was incredible. The tattoos that decorated his hips, leading towards his groomed pubic hair and base of his cock as he slowly pulled the shorts down- god, he was gorgeous.

He didn’t miss her observations at all.

Harry smirked, knowing exactly where her eyes had landed. “See somethin’ you like, baby?” He questioned, letting his shorts fall to the floor completely, leaving him fully nude in front of her. His cock was already straining towards her. It cock was long and thick, with a girth that made it look almost intimidating. None of her toys were as big as him, that was for sure. She could recall how stretched she had felt last time, but seeing it in the light had her mouth watering. She wasn’t sure if she’d be able to take it, but she was going to try.

She could see every vein in his shaft, pulsating from the tip to the base. The head was slightly flushed, a bead of precum already forming at the tip. Never had she considered a dick pretty before, but there was a first time for everything. Her eyes traveled upwards along every crevice of his toned core as she drank him in. Harry truly was gorgeous. “Love when you look at me like that, sweet girl.” Holding it in his hand, he gave the base a squeeze while his other hand stroked over the top of her head, smoothing out her hair. “Why don’t you give it a kiss, hm? You’ve been thinking about it. haven’t you?”

Harry let out a hum at her small ‘yes’ taking it as his sign to move forward. He took a small step closer to her, tapping the tip against her lips, smearing a little of his precum onto them. He chuckled, moving his hand to the back of her head and gripping her hair to tilt her head back.

Her breath stuttered, her lips parting slightly as she felt the precum smearing over her lips. Rubbing her thighs together to try and soothe the ache between them, she felt herself get hotter as he moved the tip of his cock over her lips. Ever so gently, her lips puckered and pressed to the tip. A soft kiss to his aching length, followed by another, and another, slowly trailing down as her eyes stayed on his face.

Harry's head rolled back momentarily at the gentle touch, his grip on her hair tightening slightly as he watched her kiss the tip of his cock like it was the most precious thing in the world. He let out a shaky breath, his other hand coming up to gently stroke her cheek as she kissed down his length.

“Like this?” she murmured against him, leading her kisses down to the base of his prick. “Is this what you like, H?”

"Fuck, yes," Harry groaned, his voice strained. "Just like that, princess. Keep kissing it like that. So sweet t’me." He looked down at her, his eyes filled with a mix of desire and adoration as she peppered kisses along his shaft. He couldn't believe how fucking good she was being. It was rewarding to have gone from her sneering and snapping at him to finally having the sweet girl he knew laid underneath that thick skin come to the surface for him. To have her trust this way, to have her eager to please him… it was a gift in and of itself.

Gently guiding her head back up to the tip, his precum starting to leak out and drip onto her lips. "Open your mouth, my good girl." He gently pushed the tip past her lips, the precum smearing her her lips again to make the prettiest picture imaginable. As he pushed further, he made sure to go slow, giving her time to adjust to the size. He watched in awe as her lips stretched around his girth, his heart racing with anticipation.

She didn’t stop him, hands settling on the back of his thighs as she urged him to continue. He continued to push his cock deeper into her mouth, the tip of it hitting the back of her throat. His grip on her hair tightened slightly as he took control of the pace. He could feel her gagging a little, but she didn't try to pull away. “S’that okay, baby?” He checked on her, slowly inching himself back. “Gotta tap my thigh if y’need me to stop, okay? Don't want to hurt you, yeah?”

“Mhm.” She nodded her head, catching her breath. Giving head usually wasn’t one of her favorite things but this… giving Harry head? It was actually nice. The weight of him on her tongue and his affection as he guided himself in, she felt appreciated. Yeah, it was a struggle- her jaw was going to ache- but it was going to be a reminder to her of how good she had made him feel.

He smiled at her reaction, his thumb brushing against her cheek one more time as he pushed back in slightly. “Good.” He praised, watching as she swallowed him down again. The way she gave into him was satisfying on a whole other level. “I know it’s big, but you’re doing perfect.”

Her hot mouth was a perfect fit for his thick cock. He was kicking himself for not getting his shit together earlier. He could have had her for much longer. Granted, all it took was one hook up for him to get his ass in gear. She was powerful that way.

She sucked on him eagerly, her lips wrapping around his girth and her tongue swirling around the head as she got into it on the pull back. It was something else, feeling her true desire for him put into physical action. The sound of her sucking and slurping filled the room, making Harry's eyes roll back in his head.

She felt so incredibly wet, she wouldn’t be surprised if she was staining the sofa. Harry's cock was making her drool in the best way. While she had her fears about being able to take it, his thick cock was a welcomed challenge, touching new spots in her throat. Enjoying giving head was still a new sensation, but seeing him throw his head back and hiss between his teeth as she let herself gag around him was even more arousing than she could have ever anticipated.

His reactions were everything she could have asked for and more. The way his eyes would roll back in his head, the way his breath would hitch in his throat, the way he would grunt and curse under his breath. It was all so fucking hot. She loved seeing him lose control like this, loved knowing that she was the one causing it. “Shit.” He grunted, watching her take him down the best she could. “Baby… it’s time to pull off. I need t’be inside of you.”

With a groan, he reached down to push her off, his cock soon popping out with a lewd trail of saliva and precum connecting from him to her lips. Her tongue stayed out, laying flat as he looked down at her with furrowed brows, lightly tapping the slick tip against the pink. “You are so fucking filthy, baby. Never expected this out of you.”

“I have a lot more where that came from.” Her grin was sly, spit dribbled down her chin as he pulled his cock away from her face. Her poor cunt was dripping, aching, desperate. The man had already edged her, and she needed him inside of her in a primal way. “Where do you want me?”

He chuckled darkly, his eyes raking over her soaked face and hair before landing on her needy cunt. “Laid back on the fucking couch, legs spread wide. I want to see that pretty little pussy of yours while I stretch you open.” His thumb brushed some of the spit from her chin, helping her up as she shakily laid herself down onto the cushions.

Panting heavily, he settled between her wide spread thighs, one hand supporting his weight while the other gripped his cock. He gave it a few strokes, eyes never leaving her cunt as he spat into his palm then coated himself in it.

His cock was a beautiful sight, thick and long with a prominent vein running along the underside as it laid against her swollen cunt. He gave it a few more pumps, smacking the fat head against her clit with a lewd smack. "Fuck, look at that, baby. My cock, against your little pussy. S’right where it should be, isn’t it?”

“Mhm.” Her eyes hooded, she looked like the picture of eroticism that he’d not anticipated. It blew his expectations out of the watch, seeing how beautiful she looked splayed out underneath him.

“I’m sorry for making you wait.”

He snorted, giving his cock another few pumps before guiding the tip against her soaked entrance. "Shut up, baby. You don’t have t’be sorry. I know what this means to you… and I hope you know it means the same to me.” His soft voice took on an edge, though, as his smirk turned mischievous. “I’d have waited as long as it took, But M’sure we’re gonna make up for lost time. aren’t we?”

“Yeah…” She nodded, feeling his body as he leaned over her. She felt safe, even with his taunt. Honestly? The safest she had ever felt during something like this. More eager than overthinking, that’s how she knew this was perfect- That she was making the right decision.

Grinning, he gave her a little squeeze before giving it to her. Harry slowly pushed his cock forward, inch by inch, until it was seated completely inside her. He hissed out a breath, pausing so he could gather his bearings before he started moving, the both of them perfectly still as he rested his forehead against hers.

Harry took his time with as he gave her a kiss, savoring it. It was slow and laced with the passion he’d been keeping under wraps, his lips pressed against hers gently but firmly, opening up to her tentatively before delving in completely. He could feel her chest rising and falling rapidly as she panted, feeling the same desperate need he did. Once he broke the kiss, he brushed her sweaty hair away from her face, beaming down at her and humming in pleasure to get her taste on his lips. "My god, you're perfect.” he praised, his voice husky and soft, full of awe.

"It was worth the wait.” He whispered, his eyes shining as he gazed at her. He leaned in to press another tender kiss to her lips before pulling back slightly to look at her again. “You're so fucking beautiful when you're waiting for me, good girl."

“Harry…” She pleaded, nails lightly digging into his shoulder as he ground himself into her, not yet thrusting. “I’m so full.” His cock filled her up to the brim in the best way possible.

Harry's breath caught as her nails lightly dug into his shoulder, making his cock twitch inside of her. He pressed a kiss to her neck and sighed in contentment. "I know, sweet girl," he murmured against her skin. “Do y’need some more?”

“Please. I can take it, I promise.” It was a need, now. Her cunt clenched around him, not fully adjusted but she didn’t care in the slightest. All she wanted was to feel him thrusting inside of her. Giving her what they both had been craving, the thing she had been holding them back from. All gloves were off now, and she wanted to feel every bit of it.

Harry groaned at her pleading, his hips moving of their own accord as he slowly began to thrust into her, each movement calculated as he started to claim her cunt as his own. He set a slow, steady pace, giving her what she needed as he looked down at her with hungry eyes. "I've been waiting for this for so fucking long, Y/N," Harry told her softly, his breath hot against her skin. His eyes searched hers, affection and pure desire shining in his gaze as he gave her exactly what she needed: him. “Longer than you even know. That one time?” He shook his head. “Just that taste was enough t’make me want to change my whole life. Wanted t’have all of you, all the time.”

He continued to thrust into her, each movement sending waves of pleasure through both of them. "Every day since then, I've thought about you, dreamed about you," he confessed, his voice trembling with emotion. "Wanted to be inside you so badly, to feel your tight little cunt squeezing my cock. Get as close as I could possibly be."

As he spoke, he picked up his pace slightly, his thrusts becoming a bit more urgent. "I've wanted to fuck you in every room of this house, in every bar, at every party- fuck, even the in the store, I wanted you. You don’t even know… Baby, look what you’re doing to me.” He growled, his hips moving deep and thorough against hers now.

Y/N looked up at him with hazy, lust-filled eyes, her mouth parted slightly as she panted for air. Her nails dug into his back as he continued to thrust into her, her body completely at his mercy as he took what he wanted from her.

As he fucked her, Harry's body was a beautiful mess of muscles and tattoos. His dark curly hair stuck to his sweaty forehead in messy strands as he rutted into her, hips moving with an enthusiasm that showed on his face. Harry's eyes were bright with pleasure - the same pleasure he was taking from Y/N. He could be so obnoxious and pushed the buttons outside the bedroom, but as he fucked her he was raw and unfiltered, all hard lines and moans and whispers of dirty words.

He whispered filthy praises into her ear as he fucked her, his hot breath making her shiver. "You're so fucking good for me. So fucking perfect. My sweet girl taking my big cock so well. You were made for me, weren't you?" His nose brushed her damp skin tenderly. As his words got sweeter, Harry's hand slid up her neck to gently wrap around it, never squeezing- just lightly putting pressure on her. It was a reminder of who owned her in this moment - and the words that followed only reinforced that fact. "Good girl for me. So fucking perfect."

Y/N's reaction was one of pure bliss. Her eyes rolled back in her head as he whispered sweet nothings into her ear and gently wrapped his hand around her throat. She felt so delicate and safe in his arms, completely at his mercy as he fucked her and praised her. being fucked by him was the best she had ever had. His cock was thick and heavy, stretching her cunt to its limits as he fucked her. The head of his dick pressed against her most sensitive spot with every thrust, making her see stars. She could feel every ridge and vein as he moved in and out of her, the culmination of it all driving her mad.

She needed more. Falling into the primal headspace, the pleasure overwhelming her, she pleaded for more. “H-Harder.” she said breathlessly. “Give it to me, H.”

Harry's grip on her throat tightened slightly, his other hand reaching down to grip her hip and pull her onto his cock harder. He slammed into her, his balls slapping against her ass with loud smacks. "Fuck, you want it harder? You want my cock wrecking this perfect cunt?" His grin was slightly feral, something she had experienced during their hookup. This was the familiar part, his roughness. “Want me t’own it, baby?”

“Yes.” It came out as a squeak, hand holding his wrist as it held her firmly. “It’s yours. M’all yours.”

Who was he to say no when she asked so nicely?

Harry's thrusts became harder at her plea, his hips pounding into hers as he watched her tits bounce with every slam. He could see her hands gripping the couch, her head thrown back in pleasure. This was all he could have asked for. "Say it again..." He growled, his own body losing control.

“I wanna be yours. I wanna-“ Her eyes watered as she felt her orgasm cresting, building as he tightened his fingers at the spots on her throat to give her that head rush. Doing his best to give her what she wanted.

His fingers tightened at her throat, cutting off some oxygen as he felt her cunt clenching around him, a sign she was close to cumming. He kept his pace, the slick sloppy sound of her cunt getting fucked fueling him on. "Cum for me, baby." he crooned. “Give it t’me, my girl. show me.”

Her orgasm was a slow burn that started at her toes, creeping up her body until it took hold of her senses. Her hands gripped the couch so tightly her knuckles turned white. She tightened around his cock, her walls milking him as her pleasure washed over her. It started hot, making her legs quiver uncontrollably. She could feel herself tightening around his cock, her walls contracting and releasing around him repeatedly as he kept thrusting into her in a hard rhythm.

As she rode out her orgasm, Harry praised her nonstop, his words a steady stream of affectionate praises. It’s what she deserved, only the best. "Fuck, you're so fucking tight when you cum. Look at you, trembling for me, my good girl. You're so perfect, baby. So fucking perfect." His lips connected to hers, the thick, deep thrusts continuing. “Do you think you can give me another one? Hm?”

Y/N's reaction was one of complete surrender. She was giving herself over to him, finally giving in to her innermost desires. The ones she had been holding off for far too long as he proved he truly wanted her. She couldn't speak, could only manage to nod her head frantically as Harry asked if she could give him another one.

As she came down from her intense orgasm, Harry took a second to appreciate the beautiful sight before him. Her cunt was a perfect mix of them, soaking wet and clenching his cock tightly in a few different places as aftershocks of pleasure ran through her body. Her folds were puffy and shiny wet, swollen from the rough use and deep fucking he had given her. A mixture of their juices covered the length of his shaft as he continued to look down at their connection.

Harry could feel his own orgasm building, his balls tightening and his cock pulsing with each thrust. But he knew he couldn't let himself cum yet, not until he had her reaching another orgasm first. He needed to make sure she was completely spent before he allowed himself the release he so desperately craved.

His thumb found her swollen clit, rubbing it in tight, fast circles as he continued to pound into her. The little nub was throbbing under his touch, desperate for attention. He rubbed roughly, applying just the right amount of pressure to make her see stars. “C’mon, my baby. Give it t’me. Was mean and took one away before, I know… let me give you another one before I cum.”

“Harry, Harry-“ she didn’t get a break. from her orgasm he was hell bent on getting her there a second time. The thrusts were hard and his thumb rubbing at her clit, her sensitive cunt couldn’t take much more. “M’gonna… again.” she babbled. “S’almost there. it’s, I love it. Love it, Harry.” She rambled, pleasure overwhelming her.

“That’s it, princess. Let it happen. I wanna feel you come apart on my cock again.” Harry cooed, his own orgasm right behind hers. He rubbed her clit mercilessly, his thumb moving in lightning fast circles as he fucked deep. Give it t’me again, you can do it.”

Y/N’s whole body tensed again, shaking and trembling as a second, even more intense orgasm hit her. Truly, she wasn’t sure her first had ever stopped. She cried out, her back arching off the bed, her nails digging into Harry’s back.

Harry's orgasm hit him like a tidal wave, his balls drawing up tight as he pulled out of her and painted her swollen cunt in hot ropes of pearly cum. He shot ribbon after ribbon all over her pussy, coating her lips, her clit, and the sensitive folds inside. It dripped down her thighs, pooling on the fabric beneath her. They’d need to get that professionally cleaned, but it didn’t matter. Harry pumped his hips forward into his hand, ensuring every last drop of his load covered her. “Fuck… shit, baby.” he keened, milking every drop out of his cock as his mouth stayed slack, breathing fast. Her body laid limp, gaze lulled at she looked up at him, taking every bit he fave her. Her eyes were glazed over, her breath coming in soft pants as she looked down at the mess Harry had made of her. She could feel the warm, sticky cum coating her folds, dripping down her, making a mess that she hadn’t fully anticipated. It was so much, more than she had ever seen before. She should’ve known- everything with him was.

As soon as he finished, Harry immediately moved to gather her into his arms, holding her close and whispering praise and affection into her hair. "You are incredible. So fucking good. Look at what a mess I made of you." he cooed, brushing the sweaty hair from her forehead. it didn’t matter that they were sticky with sweat, he was going to tend to her.

Maybe it was a bit much, but she whined slightly. The empty feeling… it wasn’t what she wanted. “Back inside. please.” She peeped. Harry lifted her legs, wrapping them around his waist as he settled back, snug inside her. He took a sharp breath as his softening prick giving a weak twitch while the warmth enveloped him. "You are so fucking good to me, so beautiful. I want to worship you, make you feel so good.. You have no idea." He murmured, kissing her gently.

With her sitting on his lap, Harry's arms wrapped around her, holding her close to him, his hands gently caressing her back and hips. He was so tender with her, almost reverent in the way he touched her, as if she were something precious that could break at any moment.

Gentle words were whispered to her, letting their heart rates calm. It didn’t matter that they were a mess, that they needed to clean up, that they were sweaty and sticky. Y/N felt the most satiated she had ever experienced, safe and warm in his arms as he rubbed her back and caressed her cheek, like he couldn’t get enough of her. Couldn’t get close enough.

"You are so perfect, you know that? So fucking beautiful," He whispered, his fingers tracing the curve of her cheek and down her jaw. The skin was hot to the touch from how flushed her face was from the sex, but it was another reminder that it was real- this had actually happened. He couldn't help but feel a sense of awe at the way she looked at him, like he was everything to her in this moment. Especially after how far they’d shifted from their original dynamic.

There was one other question, though, that he needed to know the answer to. He hesitated for a moment, his heart pounding in his chest as he contemplated the question. He wanted to be her boyfriend so badly, to have her by his side. She said she didn’t want hookups and he’d been working to gain her trust, to show her he wanted more. Hopefully he had proven it enough for her to give it a shot. "Baby... Can I be your boyfriend? Like, officially?" He swallowed, approaching the subject with a gentle caution. It wasn’t like he didn’t know why she had made them wait for this- reflecting back, he had been a prick and didn’t give her any reason to believe he was being serious. But since he’d committed to proving how much he actually wanted her, he could only hope she would understand just how serious he was. “I know m’still proving myself to you, and I understand… but if I can’t call you mine for another day, I think M’gonna lose it.”

Y/N's heart skipped a beat as he asked. She looked at him, really looked at him, seeing the sincerity in his eyes, hearing the vulnerability in his voice. She felt the warmth spread through her chest, a feeling of safety and happiness that she had never experienced before. Even though she had been so hesitant about it before, she could feel his change. Had seen it first hand by how he had treated her, how he’d committed to doing everything she’d asked while still showing his personality to her. There had been no sign he had tried to deceive her since asking for this chance, and she couldn’t deny him. She knew he was being genuine and he had done everything he could to give her peace of mind. It was clear that she’d misjudged him in the past, because he was one of the best people she’d grown to know.

“I think we can make that happen.”

The moment she said yes, Harry felt like he was floating on cloud nine. Wrapping his arms around her tightly, he held her close as he buried his face in her hair. "Really?" he whispered as he pulled back to look at her. "Really, really?" He couldn't stop the goofy grin that spread across his face as she confirmed it, nodding her head. He laughed in pure joy, giving her a playful nudge. "Good girl, you said yeah."

“Oh, shut up.” She groaned, giving his shoulder a push. “I can take it back.” She wouldn’t, though. Y/N was far too happy In the moment. Maybe it was the orgasm, the endorphins, the high of being asked to be a girlfriend, but this could be the start of something new coming to fruition. Something she’d pushed away and he’d diligently worked for.

Harry's eyes widened as he fell back into the couch. "No way you're taking it back!" He scoffed grabbing her hand and bringing it to his lips, kissing the back of each one of her fingers softly before letting go. “Worked too hard for you, miss. You’re mine now. No take backs.”

[v6quewrlds]

❝ darling, j. bellingham. ❞  ‎ ‎ ┉  

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀summary: your boyfriend jude has been nothing but sweet the entire time you've been together. who knew a number 10 jersey with his name on the back would affect him so much?

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀author's note: first lil fic for jude <3. partially inspired by the 3-0 win over greece, but if it happened at wembley instead. really tried with the brit slang, someone pls confirm if it's shirt instead of jersey lol. day seven of my no nut november series.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀warnings: smut, please do not interact with my work if you are under 18. language, established relationship, trent being trent, oral fixation (kinda), oral sex (69), american writing english people.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀pairing: jude bellingham x reader.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀word count: 2.2k.

"You look stunning babes!" Tolami practically shrieked as your approached the cluster of WAGs, her eyes sparkling with excitement. The group of stylish women, all dressed to the nines in various shades of red and white to support the team, were huddled together, greeting each other after several months away at their partners' respective clubs. You had gone all out for today's match, your nails painted in the team's colors and your hair styled in perfectly poised waves that highlighted your cheekbones and the delicate gold hoops that danced against your neck.

"Thanks, love," you replied with a warm smile, giving your friend a quick hug. "I couldn't be caught looking anything less than leng next to you."

You glanced around the exclusive VIP area, your eyes scanning the pitch where the players were beginning their warm-ups. The electric atmosphere of the stadium was palpable, the throb of excitement pulsing through the air. The scent of freshly cut grass and the distant murmur of the crowd grew louder as you and Tolami took their seats.

During the match, your eyes never left Jude. His agility and precision on the pitch were mesmerizing, and you couldn't help but feel a swell of pride watching him command the midfield. Each time he looked up at your section, his gaze searching for yours, you felt a flutter in your stomach. When he scored the game's second goal with a powerful strike from just outside the box, the women erupted in cheers, and you were on your feet, your hands covering your mouth in shock and delight.

After the final whistle, the team huddled together, their faces a mix of exhaustion and exhilaration. The crowd's roar was deafening as the players began to make their way towards the tunnel, and your heart raced in anticipation. He raised his hand up, gesturing for you to wait, and you nodded, your cheeks heating up under the ooh's of the other girls.

Once the team had disappeared into the depths of the stadium, you made your way down to the VIP lounge. The thrill of victory still hung in the air, mingling with the faint scent of sweat and the tang of energy drinks. You chatted idly with Tolami and Megan as you waited for the players to emerge from the locker room, your laughter echoing off the walls. When Jude finally appeared, Trent Alexander-Arnold by his side, your shoulder relaxed in relief.

"Y/N," the Liverpool man called out to you, a knowing smile playing on his lips. "How's Jude holding up with that No Nut November bet? You keeping him honest, yeah?"

You rolled your eyes, unable to suppress a sigh at the juvenile banter that was a staple of the footballers' friendship. "Unfortunately, he's been a saint."

"It's only a matter of time before Trent gives up," Jude said, his own grin spreading as he approached the group of you. "Don't jinx it."

You playfully swiped at him, your eyes lighting up. "You know I believe in you."

Jude leaned down to kiss your cheek. "Thanks for the vote of confidence," he murmured, his voice low and teasing.

As the two of you walked out of the stadium, the cool evening air a welcome contrast to the heat of the game, Jude's hand found yours, his grip firm and possessive. The short drive to your flat seemed to take forever, the silence between you charged with unspoken thoughts. The streets of London were alive with fans, their cheers and chants a distant backdrop to your own private world.

Once inside, you slipped out of your shoes with a sigh of relief, and Jude's eyes followed your every move. He couldn't take his gaze off the England crest and his name emblazoned on the back of your shirt.

"You know, it's weird," he began, his voice a little rough. "Seeing you with my name on your back... it's like you're mine. Like, really mine."

You turned to face him, a smirk playing on your lips. "Is that all it takes to make me yours?"

Jude took a step closer, his eyes darkening. "You know it's more than that, babe." He reached out, his fingers tracing the letters of his surname on the fabric of your shirt. "But seeing you wear this, supporting me with my name on your back, it just makes me want to show you off."

You felt a thrill run through you at his words. You stepped closer, looking up at him with a mischievous glint in your eyes. "What's stopping you, Bellingham?"

Jude didn't need any further encouragement. He pulled you into his arms, kissing you with a hunger that surprised you. His hands roamed over your body, his fingers playing with the hem of your shirt. You could feel his heart racing against your chest, the warmth of his skin melting through the cool material of the shirt. You stumbled into the bedroom, your kisses growing more urgent as you went.

You broke away, your breathing heavy, and looked at him with a glint of challenge in your eyes. "You know, if you want to keep that bet with Trent..."

Jude's smoldering gaze stuck to your face as he peeled the shirt over your head, revealing the lacy lingerie you had chosen just in case. "We don't have to tell him," he murmured against your neck, his teeth grazing your skin lightly as his voice rumbled deliciously down your spine.

With a laugh that was half moan, you stepped away from him, slipping out of your jeans. "You're so full of it," you said, your voice breathless with excitement. "You can't just cheat your way out of a bet. What's the point?"

Jude's eyes never left yours as he shed his own clothes, his eyes dark with desire. "Who said anything about cheating?" he murmured, advancing on you with a predatory grace. "I'm just saying, a man's got needs, and you're looking too good. Who am I to resist what's mine?"

You felt a shiver of excitement run down your spine as Jude reached out, his fingertips tracing the edge of your bra. The anticipation was almost too much to bear, the air between the two of you crackling with sexual tension. "You're insatiable," you whispered, your voice a little shaky.

"Just for you," Jude said, his voice a gruff promise. He cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing over your cheekbones as he kissed you again, deep and demanding. His touch was possessive, leaving no doubt in your mind that he meant every word. Your own hands roamed over his muscular chest, nails scraping lightly against his skin.

With a growl, he picked you up, carrying you to the bed as if you weighed nothing at all. You wrapped your legs around his waist, your body fitting against his like they were two pieces of a puzzle. The bedroom was a blur of movement as you tumbled onto the bed, the soft sheets contrasting with the hardness of his body. Jude's kisses grew more insistent, his tongue exploring the depths of your mouth as his hands moved to the clasp of your bra.

The sound of the fabric giving way was lost in your muffled moans. His thumbs grazed your nipples, sending a jolt of pleasure through your body. You arched into his touch, your skin flushing with desire. "Jude," you gasped, your voice a whimper of need. He broke the kiss, his eyes raking over your exposed chest with a look that seemed to blister your skin.

Without wasting a moment, Jude's mouth found your breasts, his teeth grazing the sensitive peaks before his tongue swirled around them. Your breath hitched, your fingernails digging into his back as the sensation washed over you. "Jude, more, please," you begged, your voice a throaty whisper. Jude's mouth continued its movements as he complied, his teeth tugging gently before his mouth closed around your nipple, suckling with a fervor that had your back arching off the bed.

Jude's hands roamed your body, his thumbs dipping into your waistband to tease the sensitive flesh just above your hips. Your hands weren't idle either, exploring the planes of his back, your nails scraping against the firm muscles as you pulled him closer.

With a sudden jolt of energy, you rolled the two of you over so you were on top, straddling him. "My turn," you whispered, your eyes sparkling with arousal. Your fingers traced the line of his jaw before you leaned down to kiss him, your teeth grazing his bottom lip before your tongue darted out to taste him. His hands moved to your hips, his grip tightening as you began to rock against him, feeling his length grow beneath you.

Jude's breath hitched as you kissed along his neck, your teeth scraping the sensitive skin just enough to make him shiver. He could feel the heat building between you two, the need growing more intense with every passing moment. "Serena," he groaned, his voice thick with want.

With a wicked smile, you slid off him, your eyes studying his face as you reached for his boxers. You took your time, enjoying the way his body reacted to your every touch. Finally, you pulled them down, revealing his hard length. You took him in your hand, stroking him gently, watching his reaction with a sense of power that thrilled you to the core.

Jude's eyes rolled back, his hips bucking upward as you touched him. "Fuck," he muttered, his hand coming up to cover yours, guiding your movements. "You're killing me, babe."

Your smile grew wider as you leaned into him, your breath hot against his skin. "Good things come to those who wait," you sang under your breath, your teeth grazing his earlobe. You kissed a trail down his chest, your tongue tracing the lines of his abs before finally reaching his cock. You took him into your mouth, the velvet heat of your lips wrapping around him, your tongue swirling in a way that made him groan.

His hands tangled in your hair as you took him deeper, your movements deliberate and teasing. He could feel the tension in his body winding tighter and tighter, the urge to push you down and fuck you senseless growing stronger with every passing second. "Babe, hold on," he ground out, his voice tight with restraint. "Sit on my face, 69. Wanna taste you."

With a light giggle, you complied, straddling his head. The scent of your arousal filled the room, making his mouth water as his tongue found your clit. You gasped, your movements faltering as you focused on the delicious sensation of his mouth on you. Your hand stroked him in time with his tongue, the sound of your moans mixing with the wetness of your desire.

Your body began to tense, your movements growing more frantic as you felt the orgasm building within you. Jude's hands gripped your thighs, holding you in place as he continued to devour you, his tongue flicking and swirling in a pattern that had you seeing stars. "Oh god," you whispered, your voice a hoarse plea.

Jude felt your thighs tighten around his head, your body shaking with the beginnings of climax. With a triumphant groan, he pushed his tongue deeper, feeling your muscles spasm as you came. Your hips rocked against his face, your tongue still working his cock. The sensation was overwhelming, and with a final, desperate stroke, he too reached the edge, his body tensing as he released into your mouth.

You sat up, swiping your tongue across your lips, a smug smile playing on your face as you turned to face your boyfriend. Jude all but whimpered as your mouth fell open to reveal you had swallowed him completely. With a giggle, you watched as Jude lay there, his chest heaving, his eyes closed in bliss.

"All this over a shirt?" you teased, your voice filled with a mix of satisfaction and amusement.

"It's not just the shirt," he murmured, his eyes finally opening to meet yours. "It's knowing that you're mine, that you're supporting me in every way possible." He reached up, his fingers tracing the outline of your cheek, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. "That I'm the one who gets to take you home after games like this."

The words sent a thrill through you, and you leaned down to kiss him deeply, tasting yourself on his lips. Jude's arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer, his hands roaming over your body in a silent show of strength and possession.

Your bodies were slick with sweat, your hearts pounding in unison as you broke away, panting for air. Jude rolled you over again, his muscles flexing as he positioned himself above you, his cock still hard and demanding. "Round two?" he asked, his voice a seductive purr.

Your eyes widened, your chest heaving with the aftershocks of pleasure. "You're unbelievable," you whispered, but you didn't protest as he nudged your thighs apart. Jude's gaze was intense, his eyes dark with lust as he settled between your legs, his cock pressing against your entrance. You felt the heat of him, the promise of more pleasure, and you wrapped your legs around his waist, urging him closer.

[pathologicalreid]

nicknames | S.R.

in which you meet the team for the first time, and receive your first nickname

who? spencer reid x fem!BAU!reader

category: fluff

content warnings: reader is referred to as a girl. i have this headcanon where when reid's IQ gets slashed to 60, he'd get so distracted that he'd run on autopilot, hence the willingness to handshake.

word count: 591

a/n: happy finals szn! this fic has been rotting in my brain for weeks and i finally decided to flesh it out. and maybe you should like and reblog this if you enjoy it (no pressure tho)

You were still filtering through your entry paperwork when the rest of the team filtered into the bullpen. David Rossi, who had helped you land this job in the first place, nodded in your direction before disappearing into his office. “Hey!” Someone called from across the bullpen, “Y/N, right?” Emily asked, setting her go bag in the chair at her desk before making her way over to your desk.

Smiling in response, “It’s nice to finally meet you,” you responded, reaching your hand out for her to shake. It was nice to be in the BAU, complete with a promotion from Special Agent to Supervisory Special Agent.

JJ walked over next, waving, and introducing herself as the communications liaison. “I’ve heard a lot of great things from your old CARD team,” she said, “I’m sure your skillset will come in handy here.”

You nodded in affirmation, “That’s the hope!” You answered, smiling at the prospect of your old team singing your praises.

Next, Derek approached, reaching out his hand for you to shake. Of course, you obliged and grinned at him. Part of you felt like you were meeting celebrities, the BAU was a big deal in the bureau. “Derek Morgan,” he introduced himself, “How long were you with CARD?”

“Five years,” you responded, it was a long time for anyone to deal solely with child abduction, but your team had the best rate in the bureau. Besides, you found the work rewarding.

Morgan’s eyebrows raised in surprise, “that’s impressive.”

You nodded, “Thank you. I’m really looking forward to working with you all.”

JJ looked behind her, “Oh, have you met Garcia?” She asked, peeking around the corner to where the technical analyst's office was.

Glancing down at the cat-shaped stress toy that she had given you when you arrived this morning, you smiled, “Yes, she was the first to greet me this morning. I think I’m just missing Dr. Reid.”

As if on cue, the young doctor walked into the bullpen, he had a worn leather satchel over his shoulder and looked like he might be talking to himself, “Reid!” Emily called over, getting his attention, and causing him to change course, approaching your desk. “Come meet, Y/N.”

He adjusted the strap of his satchel over his sweater before you reached out your hand for him to shake. “Oh, he doesn’t…” JJ began, but her voice trailed off when Dr. Reid shook your hand.

“It’s very nice to meet you, Dr. Reid,” you said, smiling at him. It felt good to know you had finally met the entire team.

He gave a close-lipped smile in return, “Reid is fine, or Spencer.” He said as you each dropped your hands to your sides.

Noticing everyone looking back and forth between the two of you as if you had already managed to do something wrong, you gathered all of your paperwork in your hands, “I should get this to Hotch.”

The rest of the team got the message and started to disperse to their respective desks, Reid’s being adjacent to yours. “Welcome to the team, pretty girl,” Morgan said to you before turning to his own paperwork.

You hugged your paperwork to your chest as if you were protecting it. Quietly, you muttered, “I really hope that nickname doesn’t stick.”

Across from you, there was a short laugh, almost a scoff. “It will,” Spencer responded in the same reverent tone. For a second, you thought it might be a joke, but you could tell by his facial expression that he was serious.

[marylxvrr]

" BENEATH THE SURFACE "

𐙚 𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐅𝐈𝐀 — a ruthless criminal mastermind who commands fear and respect, yet becomes dangerously obsessive when it comes to you, willing to destroy anyone who dares to get too close, and ensuring you're always under his control . . .

𐙚 Trigger Warnings: Obsession, manipulation, possessiveness, threats of violence, and stalking.

College was draining enough without the added stress of trying to make ends meet. Working at the café helped pay the bills, but you were still behind on rent, your fridge was nearly empty, and your textbooks were secondhand disasters held together with duct tape.

You sighed as you wiped the counter for what felt like the hundredth time today. The café was relatively quiet for a Friday night, the usual rush replaced by the hum of soft jazz playing over the speakers.

The doorbell chimed, pulling you out of your thoughts.

You turned to greet the new customer, your smile practiced but polite. “Welcome! What can I get for you—"

Your words faltered when you looked up.

He was... striking. Impeccably dressed in a dark suit that screamed luxury, his presence was commanding and utterly magnetic. His sharp jawline and piercing eyes had an almost predatory gleam as they locked onto you.

“Just a coffee,” he said, his voice smooth as velvet. “Black.”

“Coming right up,” you said, quickly averting your gaze and focusing on the task at hand.

Something about him made your skin prickle. He didn’t look like your usual customer, and the way his eyes lingered on you felt... intense.

When you placed his cup on the counter, his fingers brushed against yours as he took it. The contact was brief, but it sent a chill down your spine.

“Thank you, Y/n,” he said, his lips curling into a small smile.

You froze. “How do you know my name?”

He chuckled, taking a sip of his coffee. “You’re wearing a name tag.”

Relief washed over you, and you gave a nervous laugh. “Right. Of course.”

But as he walked away to sit in the corner booth, a nagging feeling settled in your chest. You hadn’t been wearing your name tag today.

---

Over the next few weeks, he became a regular at the café. Always sitting in the same booth, always ordering the same coffee. He never stayed long, but his presence was impossible to ignore.

You couldn’t shake the feeling that he was watching you, though he never said much beyond polite small talk. It was unsettling, yet oddly flattering. A man like him—wealthy, confident, and undeniably attractive—paying attention to someone like you? It didn’t make sense.

Then, one night, everything changed.

---

The café was closing, and you were the last one left, cleaning up after another long shift. You were locking the front door when you noticed a sleek black car idling across the street.

Your stomach twisted uneasily as you hurried down the sidewalk, clutching your bag tightly.

“Y/n.”

You froze.

He was leaning against the lamppost, his suit as immaculate as ever, his eyes gleaming under the streetlight.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, your voice trembling.

“I was waiting for you,” he said simply, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Your heart pounded as he took a step closer, his presence overwhelming. “Why?”

“Because I’ve decided I don’t like the idea of you walking home alone,” he said, his tone calm but leaving no room for argument.

“I’m fine,” you said quickly, trying to step around him, but his hand shot out, grabbing your wrist.

“You don’t understand, Y/n,” he said, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “There are people out there who would hurt you. People who wouldn’t think twice about taking advantage of someone as... vulnerable as you.”

“Let go of me,” you said, panic creeping into your voice.

His grip tightened slightly, his eyes narrowing. “You don’t get it, do you? I’m trying to protect you.”

“From what?” you demanded, struggling against his hold.

“From everyone. From this world that doesn’t deserve you.”

His words sent a chill down your spine. You stared at him, your fear growing as the realization dawned on you.

“You’ve been following me,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

“I had to,” he admitted, his tone softening. “I had to make sure you were safe. Do you have any idea what it’s like to see you struggle? To know you’re barely scraping by while I could give you everything you’ve ever wanted?”

You shook your head, tears welling in your eyes. “You don’t even know me!”

“Oh, but I do,” he said, his free hand brushing a strand of hair from your face. “I’ve watched you for months, Y/n. I know how hard you work, how kind you are even when the world doesn’t deserve it. You’re perfect.”

His words were like chains, wrapping around you and pulling you deeper into his control.

“You’re insane,” you whispered, your voice trembling.

“Maybe,” he said, his lips curling into a small, bitter smile. “But I won’t let anyone else have you.”

Before you could respond, the black car pulled up beside you. The door opened, and he gestured for you to get in.

“Don’t fight this, Y/n,” he said, his voice both pleading and commanding. “I’ll take care of you. I’ll give you a life worth living. But if you try to run... I can’t promise what I’ll do.”

Your heart pounded as you stared at him, your body frozen in fear.

“Get in the car,” he repeated, his tone firm.

And in that moment, you realized you had no choice.

---

[of-many-fandomss]

if you could, maybe a fic where reader is the youngest on the grid, and has lost her father. anyway, she wins a grand prix (whatever you’re feeling, it doesn’t matter which one!), and just immediately runs to charles because she knows her dad’s not there to see her big win. he’s immediately taken back but then understands why she came to him and is there to comfort her

and maybe she invites him up on the podium with her!!

thanks :))

Proud

summary: your father was no longer there, but your next biggest supporter was

paring: charles leclerc x reader platonic

warnings: mentions of parental death

word count: 0.6k

a/n: in honor of my baby lando getting his first win 🥹🧡

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

The blur of your vision no doubt made it borderline dangerous to be driving- but you couldn’t care. Not one single bit.

Not as you pulled into the spot reserved just for you, a p1 resting against the poster right in front of your car that you could barely make out.

A sob raked through your body suddenly and you dropped your hemelt clad head into your hands, breathing shaky and heart rate still accelerated.

You took a moment for yourself, your eyes squeezed shut and your senses buzzing. There were screams of the crowd around you, each one of them celebrating your victory in a deafening roar of pure thrill and excitement.

Finally, you jumped out of your car, ripping the hemelt from off of your head just in time to see an all too familiar Red Bull vehicle pull up to your right and a Ferrari to your left, taking up their respective places by your side.

Whipping around, you paid no mind to the cheers of congratulations from your team, nor the reporters that tried to invade your space as you raced as quickly as you could to the bright red Ferrari.

Charles hopped out of his car just in time for you to crash into his arms, eyes once again squeezed shut as you hugged the man tightly.

The man stumbled back a bit- having already shed his helmet- eyes slightly wide as he looked down at you, but softened as he watched you finally let the tears flow free from your eyes ducts.

He recovered quickly and hurtfully swept you into his embrace, holding you just as tightly as you were holding him, neither of you tuned into any of the hundreds of cameras that were snapping all around you.

After so much hard work- after so much dedication- you had finally done it. You had finally won your Grand Prix- and one on your home track nonetheless.

The tears were partially for the dedication that was finally paying off, but it was mostly for the man that you wish was by your side at the moment.

Your father.

The man that had always been your biggest supporter, through and through.

From your karting days to when you finally signed on with Red Bull just over five months ago when you turned eighteen.

Only two months later, he had passed away from a sudden and quick disease that had left you and the rest of your family utterly heartbroken.

Even before he had been gone, Charles had been quick to take you under his wing. You weren’t his teammate, and yet, he couldn’t help the sense of responsibility that took over him when he had first gazed upon you. He had wanted nothing more than to make you feel welcomed and safe in formula 1.

And that’s what he did.

When you had lost the man that had been your biggest supporter- Leclerc became just as large of one.

“I’m so proud of you,” He murmured in your ear for only you to hear, listening to the way you were hiccuping against the material of his tracksuit, “Your father would be so proud.”

You squeezed him tighter for a moment before pulling away, laughing slightly through teary eyes at him.

Charles smiled, moving a piece of hair out of your face and tucking it behind your ear, “I’m so proud of you.” He repeated.

“Thank you,” You whispered.

Thank you for saying it. Thank you for looking out for me- for always being there.

Though you didn’t say the words, your eyes shone brightly with them and the man understood.

He nodded before taking his gloved hand in yours, “Come on, let’s get you to your first top spot on the podium.”

When you turned around, you were greeted with the sight of screaming, ecstatic fans, and beaming drivers.

Each and every person in that place was so proud of you, but none smiled as brightly as Charles when you mounted the top of the podium and held your trophy up high.

[aurorawritestoescape]

HARDER THAN YOU THINK

Boss!Joel Miller x f!reader || 4,7k

Written together with @milla-frenchy

Summary: It’s your first day at work and you feel nervous. But what can go wrong if your boss is your dad’s best friend, a person you’ve known and trusted for years?

Tw: 18+ mdni, smut, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT, NON CON, Dbf!Joel, boss!Joel, dark!Joel, power imbalance, blackmail, age gap (reader is in her early 20s, Joel is in his late 40s), oral (f), pussy slapping, use of a sex toy, degradation, unprotected piv, gangbang, creampies. Reader wears a skirt.

A/n: @milla-frenchy and I wrote this story for @romanarose ‘s Dead Dove December. Thank you for this event, celebrating dark fic, Roman❤️ Milla, baby, it’s always a pleasure to write with you! ILYSM🫂💖

Heed the warnings! If any of this makes you uncomfortable, do not pursue reading. We are not responsible for the content you consume. This is not for everyone and that's okay. We don't condone the actions of the characters.

MILLA’S MASTERLIST || KATE’S MASTERLIST

Day one at your first job started horribly. You overslept, got in a traffic jam and arrived at the office panting and apologizing. Fortunately, your boss, Mr Miller, didn’t tell you off for your tardiness. Instead he greeted you with a wide, most charming smile. You’ve known him for a few years, him being your dad’s good friend and his employer as well as yours now.

Mr Miller was a successful businessman and your parents owed everything to his generosity and kindness. He helped your father out when your family was about to lose the house and your dad always talked highly of his ‘best bud’. You’ve been calling him Joel all these years, but wishing to show respect at the workplace, you decided to call him Mr Miller.

Now you’re attending a company meeting in a spacious conference room, taking bullet points of the discussion on your tablet. Mr Miller is sitting at the head of the desk, leaning comfortably in his chair, his thick thighs spread, piercing eyes narrowed. His perfectly tailored blue suit which probably costs more than your future year salary accentuates his broad powerful frame. Throwing glances at him from time to time, you can’t help but admire the way the fabric stretches over his arms and shoulders. You’ve never thought about Joel like that, he was much older than you, but it was hard to deny how handsome he was.

Joel is listening to an employee’s report, pouting his lips from time to time. Knowing him quite well, you read his face easily, so it’s evident to you that he’s not pleased with what she’s telling him. Joel’s always been nice and kind to you and your parents, but right now you feel like a volcano is about to erupt.

“Are you happy with all this, sweet cheeks?” He asks but doesn’t let the woman reply. "I’m definitely not. I hope I won't hear these numbers ever again. Or you're gonna lose your job in a heartbeat. I doubt your family will be happy with you getting fired. You just had a baby, right?”

The woman swallows loudly and nods.

“Get your shit together!” Joel barks and the employee looks terrified. You feel bad for her. You’ve never seen Joel be so mean before but that's probably part of the character trait that goes with his job.

When the meeting is over, some people leave but three men stay behind with Joel, still chatting to each other. You get up, ready to sneak out, but your boss stops you at the door, calling your name.

“Sorry, I thought the meeting’s over”, you explain, coming up to him with an apologetic smile.

“Yeah, the main part’s done but we have something extra on our agenda today.”

Joel gets up and walks over to one of the cabinets. He takes something out of a drawer and puts it in the pocket of his suit pants. You raise your brows with a silent question and he turns his face to the managers,

“Gentlemen! Today is this young lady’s first day at our company and I’d like you to give her a warm welcome.”

You feel overwhelmed when all the attention is focused on you but, fearing to seem rude or disrespectful, you turn to the men and smile nervously, fumbling with your fingers. You wonder what Joel put in his pocket. You didn't expect to receive a gift on your first day, and you don’t know how to thank him properly.

The men hum approvingly but soon you feel uneasy noticing their eyes slide down your body and take you in with something more than simple curiosity. One of them smirks and your face falls. Fortunately, Joel steps up to you and his wide smile relaxes you a little. Knowing him for so long, you feel that he has your back. He takes your hand and holds it in his big warm palm.

“Sweetheart, we have a tradition in our company. We call it “Initiation”.

“W—What is it?” you mumble, smiling and blinking at him with confusion, while your stomach churns. You hope he won’t ask you to give a speech of some kind. You’d die of stage fright.

Joel explains, “Some of us gather here to celebrate our new employee and I’m happy that today it is you.“

Joel inches closer and you instinctively take a step back but he pulls you to him gently yet with unyielding determination.

“Usually one of our top managers does it, but of course, with you it had to be me. Also some of these gentlemen sent me messages during the meeting… Seems that they want to take part, now that they saw you.”

His face is inches from yours and he lowers his voice to tell you, “to be specific, we all are going to celebrate you and your body. Teach you some new things while we’re at it, too.”

Your gaze darts between his darkening eyes as you open and close your mouth like a fish out of water. You can’t comprehend what he’s saying but your instinct is screaming for you to run.

Joel gently cups your cheek and turns to the other men in the room, “she’s adorable.” With that he places his hands on your hips, and mumbling “c’mon”, moves you to the head of the desk.

“Joel, what are you…?” Your voice is shaky, your palms placed on his broad chest push him off you but he’s too strong and soon your ass is perched up on the surface, your back turned to the other men.

“Joel, please, what are you doing?” you mumble as panic rises in your chest.

“Shh, we’re just gonna have some fun, you and me at first, then I'll let the others join us.”

He looks behind you, and you hear the other men react.

“Fuck yeah.”

“I think I will.”

“Give it to her, boss.”

You hear their words and you start to understand what’s happening. Or rather, you start realizing what your dissociated mind was trying to hide.

“Joel… You’re scaring me…” you stammer, eyes wide.

“Fear is a good thing. It means I'm in control. And I want control over you."

Now you feel Joel’s hands rubbing your thighs, covered by tights, slithering up and under the hem of your skirt, while his gaze is set on your chest.

“No, Joel, please,” you plead, searching for his eyes, hoping to keep his attention on you, break the spell that turned these people into wild animals, turned this office into a cage that you can’t escape from. Trying to make him come back to his senses and remind him that it's you, the person he's known for so long, that he is your father's friend, who you thought would protect you from all dangers, if he had to.

But his eyes remain black, cold. The more you beg, the brighter an unhealthy spark shines in them. As if he likes it, likes you begging.

“You’re my dad’s friend, don’t do this to me,” you whine, overwhelmed by his big body caging yours against the desk, terrified to your core at the realization of what he’s about to do to you.

“Yes, you’re right,” he stops, giving you a glimpse of hope, and looks into your eyes. “Your dad’s a great guy but he has a big flaw. He has this pretty little thing for a daughter.”

Your heart breaks when you hear him, your hope is dead.

Joel leans closer and you pull away but he grabs the back of your neck and holds you still, brushing your lips with his.

“If he only knew how much I want to stretch your little holes. And you know me, baby,” he pecks your lips and whispers, “I always get what I want.”

The men behind you chuckle, loving this display of power. The smell of Joel’s perfume hits your nose and your head spins for a second as part of you still struggles to understand what’s happening. You feel tears well up in your eyes.

Your new boss, a man you’ve known for years, wants to fuck you in front of other people on your first day here. You try to make your mind work, get you out of the situation.

“I’ll tell my dad. I’ll tell everyone,” you cry out, making your voice firmer, but Joel just laughs, enveloping you in his tight embrace. To your horror you hear the sound of the chairs moving behind you and then footsteps. You’re surrounded now.

“If you start yapping, sweetie, you and your dad will lose your jobs in a second and I’ll make sure no one ever hires you both.”

His voice is calm, his breathing steady, as if he were telling you the most mundane things in the world, and you shiver.

“Besides, your dad owes me a lot of money. Your family will lose everything.” He searches for your widened eyes and whispers, “you work for me now so it means I own you.”

Suddenly his lips latch onto your neck. His hold is too tight but the kiss is slow and gentle.

“No, no,” you start sobbing and Joel pulls away and takes your face between his big hands.

“Honey, calm down, imagine there’s only you and me here. No one else, uh?” His eyes are obsidian and full of lust and you understand that you won’t get out of this. He will have you.

“Please, Joel, I don’t want to…“

“But you do, baby, you want me,” he kisses your cheek. “You want my big cock in your little pussy. I’m gonna make you feel so good, baby.”

He drags his stubble over your cheek and you whimper when his hand snakes between your thighs.

“You really think I haven't noticed the way you look at me, the clothes you wear, when I have lunch at your parents’?”

“What? No!!”

“Shh…” he cuts you, brushing your lips with his finger. “You wanna get fucked by a man older than you. A man who will give it to you good.”

Through the material of your tights and panties you feel his hand caress your folds and you close your eyes shut, trying to escape the horror of the situation.

"Girls your age want that. A mature man,” he adds.

You mewl a quiet “no” again and he uses the moment to kiss you and push his tongue past your lips. With one hand keeping you close and the other gently massaging your pussy, Joel claims your mouth, licking into it, swallowing your soft cries.

As soon as he parts from you, your hands push him away but his strong physique overpowers you in seconds. He grabs your wrists and makes you lie down on the desk. You’re pressed to the wooden surface by his heavy body as his breath fans your cheek when he growls, “Don’t fight it. It’ll be my way or bad way, baby. Choose wisely.”

In your peripheral vision you notice the men next to the desk, one on the left and two on the right. Like hyenas they are waiting for their turn when the main predator is done with the prey.

You begin thrashing around on the desk and Joel slightly lifts his torso but holds you down with his hand wrapped around your neck. You freeze as panic grips your heart. He’s not squeezing it but the threat is swimming in his blown out eyes.

He smirks when you stop moving. “Good girl. Made the right choice.”

Joel straightens up, his figure looming over you, and then starts pulling up your skirt. You try to stop his hands but in vain.

“Let’s see what we have here. White lace. Fuck, it’s hot, baby. Innocence looks good on you. I know you’re not a virgin though,” he laughs and continues, “I remember a boy used to come to your bedroom all the time. Your old man was scared that you’d get pregnant. Fuck, I wanted to kill that little shit for touching you.“

You take a sharp breath, terrified of how long his obsession with you has lasted.

“I know you’re single now. It’s good. Now you have me. I’ll fulfill all your needs, baby. And will fill all your holes.”

With that he rips your tights between your legs, and you squeal scared to death. You try to slide off the desk but he presses his forearm over your belly, not letting you move away.

You hear the murmur of the others, watching you sob and fight the man twice bigger than you like it’s some twisted show.

When Joel grabs your hips to keep you in place, you turn your head, pleading eyes darting between the men but their expressions scare you. There’s not a trace of sympathy on their faces, not a chance that this vile group will help you.

With tears streaming down your cheeks you look back between your spread legs and find Joel’s hungry gaze there. He’s sneering at you, noticing your fruitless attempt to seek assistance from his employees.

“What’s that, baby? Looking for anyone to call an HR? He’s over there. Say hi, Steve.”

You hear a gruff voice somewhere from behind you.

“Hi, sweetie.”

“Aww, isn’t he nice?” Joel mocks and dread spreads in your chest. There’s no way out. You’re trapped. Your only hope is the man you thought to be a friend.

“Please, Joel. Stop. I won’t tell anyone. Let me go.” Your voice is barely audible, you sound pathetic, and Joel’s face softens. His brows knit together as he looks between your legs and talks while his fingers slowly pull your panties to the side.

“I think I’ve made a mistake.”

You gasp when his fingers graze your exposed folds and try to close your legs but he’s holding you securely.

“I haven’t explained your position in this company yet. It will help you to understand what’s happening and accept it.” His fingers stroke your seam and then push inside between your folds, leaving you shocked and breathless.

“From now on you’re my office whore. I tell you to suck, you suck, I tell you to bend over - you do exactly that.”

His voice is gruff and cold, eyes focused on the place where his fingers swirl around your hardening clit and you squeeze your eyes closed, fighting the fire in your core that’s burning brighter with every second of his caress.

“She loves it, your pretty pussy,” Joel smiles, looking up at you, “do you hear how wet she’s getting for me? You should relax, and let your body take what it wants. Stop fighting it, baby.”

He sinks two thick digits into your soft hole and you tighten your muscles, eyes wide, surprised by a heat spreading through your body.

You hear it too. When Joel begins pumping his fingers in and out of you, lewd squelching noises reach your ears, the sign of your body surrendering to his horrible act. A moan crawls up your throat and you muffle it with the back of your hand.

A sharp flick of Joel’s fingers lands on your clit and you cry out.

“Don’t. Don’t hide it. Wanna hear you enjoying it, little slut. I wouldn’t make my cock wait if I didn’t wanna hear some sweet moans from you.”

His hands leave your pussy and he places his palms on your inner thighs, spreading them wider.

“Now— Let’s have a taste.”

You watch him lower his head to your cunt and he licks a stripe between your wet folds from your clenching hole to your sensitive clit and sucks on it for a few seconds. Your back arches involuntarily.

“Delicious,” he mumbles, wet lips against your folds, and the vibrations send shivers down your spine.

You want to hate the sensation his mouth is giving you, but your whole body treacherously buzzes when his hot tongue laps away your slick. Joel kisses your pussy, his gentleness is a striking contrast to the situation. He’s eating you out to make you come, hungry to claim your pleasure as well, and you grit your teeth, fighting it with all your being.

He feels you holding back and growls before focusing all of his attention on your puffy clit, flicking it and rubbing it with his tongue, sucking it in between his teeth, and you can’t help but explode under his ministrations. You begin shaking against the desk, and through the sound of your heart pounding in your ears you hear cheers and clapping from the heartless audience.

“Good job, boss!”

“What a slut!”

“You’re the man!”

Their reaction makes your heart shutter into pieces.

Joel gives his employees his million dollar smile, pride lighting up his dark eyes, and absentmindedly rubs his hands over your thighs still partially covered by tights, ripped at the crotch.

He gets up from the chair and when you try to close your legs, he yanks you to the edge again, pushing his hips between your thighs.

Joel slowly unbuckles his belt with one hand and unzips his suit pants, talking to you, “I thought about asking you out on a date, honey. Making you my girlfriend.”

He chuckles and pulls his boxers down.

“Could be nice. You, waiting for me at home.”

His cock springs free and you feel even more scared if it’s even possible. His manhood is huge, long and thick, bigger than your ex boyfriend’s for sure. He holds it at the base and continues, “you’d greet me with a home-cooked meal and a wet pussy.”

You know what he’s about to do and all your being rises in protest so you slap his hand off and slide off the desk in a fast motion.

“Hold her!” Joel barks and a few pairs of hands grab you and push you down. Your back hits the desk and someone’s holding your wrists over your head, their hands keeping you still, at the same time gliding over exposed parts of your body - your neck, your chest, a slither of your naked belly.

Joel doesn’t stop them. His eyes are fixed on your bare cunt, glistening with the signs of your body’s betrayal.

A sharp slap lands on your mound and sends a bolt of pain through your body, and you squeal.

“Don’t do it again, naughty girl. Or I’ll let these heathens fuck your ass raw.”

You sob, trying to ease the steel grip on your wrists. Through tears in your eyes, you see Joel bring the head of his stiff cock to your pussy and in a second you feel him push it in, slowly, but not for the sake of your comfort. Only for his enjoyment.

His head falls back and he groans, “fuckk, she’s tight. You can’t find a pussy like that in an escort.”

Joel looks down at you with a hazy smile and you plead for him to stop but he ignores you and thrusts into your core. He takes out what’s in his pocket and brings his hand close to your stuffed cunt. You hear a “buzz”, when he turns on a bullet vibe.

“No, Joel, please…” you cry.

“I want you to come on my cock too. And with this little helper, I’m sure you will, baby.”

He begins rolling his hips, pushing his fat cock in and out of your dripping pussy. You whine, feeling your walls spread around his girthy member and your belly is heaving with a mixture of fear and arousal. Meanwhile Joel starts fucking you faster, talking to you like there’s no one else in the room.

“Your dad would mind if we started going out but who gives a shit? I could just throw some money his way. Money can buy everything.”

He winks at you and you sob, sliding up and down the desk with each mighty thrust.

“But — It’s not the main problem. I spend most of the time here. I work hard—Aahhh— and it’s nice to fuck someone between the meetings, right, guys?”

You hear sounds of agreement around you and squeeze your eyes shut, scared to see the faces of the monsters around you.

Joel’s cock is rhythmically brushing your g spot and you hate that behind the horror there’s pleasure, nauseating and terrifying, but pleasure nonetheless. Joel tilts his hips and you cry out when he grazes something ecstatic inside your core.

“You gonna come again, honey?” he coos at you and the pet name he used so many times before, visiting your father, cuts your heart with a sharp blade.

A river of fresh tears rolls down your face but your misery is not noticed by Joel who explains, after a loud grunt, “office affairs take too much time and effort. But you. You’d be perfect as my pretty cum dumpster.”

With that he grabs your sides, nails digging into your soft skin, and starts snapping his hips into you, violating your pussy with his fat cock.

“Fuck, gonna come soon. Pussy’s too good. I’m gonna have so much fun with you.”

The men around you cheer again. Joel presses the vibrator to your clit and you whine, your walls clamp around his manhood and it sends him over the edge. With a loud grunt he begins spilling his hot cum into your pulsating pussy, pumping you more and more, pushing his cock deeper, while holding you with the iron grip of his hands.

You start sobbing again feeling the warmth spread deep in your core and it freezes your heart with another terror. You’re not on the pill.

Joel stays buried inside you for some time. You are so shocked that you don't react. You ignore his cock pulsating inside you. Ignore its last twitches. Until reality hits you and you cry harder. Your body betrayed you. Joel betrayed you.

“Joel, please… let me go.”

He finally pulls out and you feel some of his cum slide to your ass. You try to sit up but he grabs your wrists in his hands, keeping you down on the desk, leaning over you. His hazy gaze fixed on yours.

“Not so fast baby… we’re not gonna waste all this cum, are we? I want these men to remember who you belong to and fuck it back into you.”

You realize with shock that he really intends to throw you to them.

“Steve? You worked so hard this month. Enjoy your reward.”

Looking down at you, he adds, “come on, baby, be a good girl. Steve deserves it. And we already know you're a little slut. You clenched so hard on my cock, mmm?” He wipes away a tear running down your cheek with his thumb and steps away.

You try to close your legs but Joel clicks his tongue.

“No, no, no. I made myself clear, didn't I? Jim, didn’t I make myself clear?”

“Yes, boss, very clear.”

“If you're difficult, your father can say goodbye to his income. To his job. Your parents almost got divorced that time, didn't they?” His dark eyes are fixed on you. Even colder than before. There’s no hesitation or remorse in him. “So if you don't want your father to end up under a bridge, and your mother to whore around with her slutty daughter, you're gonna stop whining.”

He points his finger at you. You remember the meeting earlier. How cold he was, how sorry you felt for that woman. But now, it’s you who is facing this terrible side of him.

“And you’re gonna let them take their turn. Final warning.”

You suppress a sob, even when Steve settles between your legs and places one hand on your thigh and the other around his cock.

“Go on Steve, give her a good fuck.”

You hear the men cheer when Joel's employee pushes his tip in your already sore hole.

“Come on man, give it to her good!”

“Fuck that bitch!”

He thrusts in, grunting. Excited by the cheers of the other men. He fucks you hard as soon as he grabs your thighs and buries his length in you. You keep your eyes closed, unable to meet his gaze, and unwilling to give them any more of yourself by letting them see your frightened eyes.

“Well damn, Steve, you got great moves!”

The man puts his hands on your hips for a better leverage, jerking you forward with each thrust.

“Fuck, she's tight…”

“Yeah? Tighter than your wife?”

They all laugh, and you feel nauseous.

“Come on, Steve. Shoot your load. Don't enjoy it too much. I just lent her to you.”

Steve obeys and comes in your cunt, mixing his cum with Joel's.

Then Jim uses you.

And finally, Paul. He turns you around and bends you over to thrust into you from behind. He’s already groaning, when Joel’s phone rings.

“Oh!” he chuckles when he sees the name on the screen. He picks up and, looking at you, brings his index finger to his mouth, ordering you to be quiet.

“Hey, man! Calling to check on your daughter?” He walks around the desk to sit at your side and starts jerking his cock as he watches you getting fucked by the third man.

You can’t hear what your dad is saying, and your mind dissociates again.

“It’s going great. She’s already showing some serious skills!”

Joel smiles in response to what your father’s saying, his hand still fucking his shaft.

“No, sorry, she’s with Paul. He’s showing her some new procedures, they will be very useful to me soon.”

Paul is growling, rutting into you, and you hear Joel say, “Yeah sure, I’ll tell her you called.”

Paul spreads your ass cheeks and spits on your ring.

“No!” Joel gruffs in a low, menacing voice, after hanging up. “No one fucks her ass.”

“Sorry, boss, she takes it so good, I got carried away.”

“Don’t forget your place. Fill her up, and then get out, all of you. She’s mine, got it? We all… welcomed her, but now she belongs only to me.”

After using you like a fuck doll, the three men leave the office chatting happily.

Joel gets up, his hand working his fat cock.

“Gotta fill you again, baby. I can’t stay like this, with a hard-on, it’s painful, you know?”

You can’t believe he’s telling you this.

“Pussy’s already ruined, anyway,” he says as he thrusts in and fucks you hard and fast in all men’s cum, until he sends his load into your owerflowing core for a second time.

You’re lying on the desk, not even realizing they all left, that Joel has pulled out, until you feel a jacket covering you. Joel pulls down your skirt back over your thighs and grabs your arm to help you up. He fixes your shirt and looks at your face, your makeup smudged, mascara running down your cheeks.

“You’re gonna need some rest, baby. Come back next week. I’ll be the only one playing with you, from now on. Don’t forget - a pretty girl like you needs a man like me.”

You shiver. His voice pulls you out from the depths of your mind, that is lying to you that none of this has happened.

“Are you on birth control?”

You shake your head, eyes empty.

“I’m gonna give you an after pill, I don’t want you knocked up by one of the guys. You’re too precious for me. Now get your stuff and go home. And don’t think of telling anyone. No one will believe you anyway.”

As you grab the handle, he adds “Oh, before you leave. Add to my calendar, tomorrow, ‘a barbecue at your parents’, at noon. Your dad’s just invited me. It’s gonna be great, baby. Can’t wait to pay you a visit in your bedroom.”

Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated <3

Other fics by @milla-frenchy and me

Keep on your mean side - Joel x f!reader - dark fic

The Burglary -Joel x f!reader x Tommy - dead dove, noncon

Bad Girl - Joel x f reader x Tommy - dubcon

The hounds of hell - Series - Javier Peña x fem reader x Steve Murphy

MILLA’S MASTERLIST || KATE’S MASTERLIST

Tagging some lovely people who showed interest in the wips: @koshkaj-blog @604to647 @megangovier @tateypots @sunshineispunk @thundermartini @pedge-page @mountainsandmayhem @iamasaddie @schnarfer @mermaidgirl30 @evolnoomym @fruityreads @itwasntimethatdidit40