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redroomreflections · 2 days

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II HANDS II HEAVEN 5

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: Natasha Romanoff and Reader reluctantly team up for a couples retreat mission. Despite initial resistance, they find themselves drawn together by unexpected circumstances and shared experiences.

W/c: 3.2k

“Red or Blue?” You asked Natasha as you sifted through one of your many suitcases. Clothes were strewn about on the floor around you as you debated what to wear. It wasn’t exactly a tough choice but first impressions mattered. Even if the first impressions you were banking on weren’t the other hotel guests.

“What?” She glanced up from her phone, confusion evident in her furrowed brow. “Why are you asking me?”

She was busy debriefing Steve and the team on a few minor details. Small things she picked up about the resort from your time in the lobby. So far, as expected, everything seemed normal.

You glanced over, noticing her distraction, and rolled your eyes. "Just trying to involve you in the decision-making process. You know, team effort. Don’t you have girlfriends that you discuss outfit choices with?”

"Not really my style," She replied dryly, before resuming her conversation with Steve and the team, seamlessly slipping back into her professional demeanor.

“I can see,” You muttered as you slipped into the bathroom. You took your time changing into the black suit, tying it as best you could behind your neck before you snapped the straps of the bottoms on your waistline. You walk back over to your suitcase, squatting to find your favorite lotion-sunscreen combo that always has your skin looking lovely and sparkly. “I guess it’s not okay to ask you if I should wear my hair up or down?” You tilted your head, a playful smirk dancing on your lips as you applied generous amounts of lotion to your legs. With one knee bent, you glanced over to Natasha, waiting for her response.

Natasha raised an eyebrow, her lips twitching with amusement as she glanced up from her phone. "I suppose you can ask," she replied. "But don't expect any expert advice from me."

You shook your head. What a shame. "Fair enough," you conceded, finishing up with the lotion before returning to your suitcase. "Looks like it's just me and my questionable fashion sense then."

It’s then Natasha truly looked at you. This bikini was wow. In every sense of the word. It was very little, borderline inappropriate, but also somehow still tasteful. Natasha's gaze lingered on you for a moment longer than necessary as she took in the sight, a subtle appreciation glinting in her eyes.

"Um, Natasha?" You prompted, noticing her prolonged scrutiny.

Natasha blinked, snapping out of her reverie. "Oh, uh, sorry," she replied, clearing her throat. "Wear your hair down. It suits the look."

You didn't catch her response at first, too engrossed in adjusting the straps of your bikini top. "What was that?" you asked, looking up to meet her gaze.

Natasha repeated herself, her tone more decisive this time. "I said, wear it down. It looks good."

You grinned in response, nodding in agreement before turning your attention back to your reflection in the mirror. Natasha's subtle compliment brought warmth to your cheeks and a little more pep in your step.

“Are you wearing that?” You gestured to her as you made eye contact in the mirror across from the bed. It's an interesting choice on the resort’s part. Natasha’s outfit was homely but not in an insulting kind of way. A comfy set since the both of you had spent hours in the car. With this blonde hair, she resembled the everyday girl next door.

“Of course not,” Natasha shook her head. She grabbed her bikini from the luggage she’d unpacked already at this point. “Don’t turn around.” She warned you.

You turned your gaze toward the mirror, only to witness a blur of motion behind you. Clothes flew through the air as Natasha swiftly shed her sweatpants and t-shirt and stepped into her one-piece swimsuit with practiced efficiency.

The speed and fluidity of her movements left you momentarily speechless, your mouth suddenly feeling dry as you watched in awe. You attempted to distract yourself with the jewelry in front of you. Diamond hoop earrings and a small heart-shaped necklace.

Natasha looked up from fastening her sandals. "Are you ready?"

You raised an eyebrow in mock indignation. "You just got dressed and you’re already rushing me?"

Natasha chuckled, her smirk widening as she shook her head. "I like to stay ahead of schedule," she replied, her tone teasing.

You rolled your eyes with a grin. "Alright, alright," you conceded, reaching for your sandals. "I'm ready when you are."

“You’re wearing jewelry to the pool?” She questioned, pushing the Fendi sunglasses over her hair.

Natasha's question caught you off guard as you adjusted your jewelry, a puzzled expression on your face.

You glanced down at your accessories, contemplating her observation for a moment before shrugging nonchalantly. "Why not?" you replied, your fingers deftly arranging the delicate pieces. "A little extra never hurt anyone."

Natasha raised an eyebrow. “ If you say so," she conceded."Just don't come crying to me if you lose something in the water."

“Don’t worry I’ll find some hot pool boy to find it for me,” You shrugged.

Natasha arched an eyebrow, a smirk playing on her lips as she shot back with equal snarkiness, "Just make sure he's qualified for the job."

***********

The pool area stirred with activity, a lively mix of people young and old enjoying the serene surroundings. The crystal-clear water sparkled under the sun's gentle rays, creating a picturesque scene that called to you.

Finding a few empty seats nearby, you and Natasha made your way over, the soft chatter of voices and the occasional splash of water filling the air. There was some reggae mix on the stereo as the bartender called out names for drinks. Dropping your bags and book onto the nearest chair, you settled down with a contented sigh, sinking into the welcoming embrace of the cushioned seat.

“Joan, sweetie,” You said with a mischievous grin, turning to Natasha. “I left my towel back in the room. Won’t you be a dear and grab me one?”

Natasha narrowed her eyes at your request, having just settled into her seat. She tilted her head slightly, a hint of annoyance in her gaze as she considered your cheeky demeanor. With a low growl, Natasha stood and walked over to the shelf where the spare towels were. She grabbed a few, walking back over to you with a frown.

“Here,” She gently passed a towel to you. “Anything else?”

“Hmm,” You thought long and hard. “I’d love a strawberry-lemon mojito.”

Natasha's eyes narrowed further at your response."Keep dreaming," she wanted to say, but for the sake of appearances, she sighed and walked over to the bartender.

You watched her walk away, your eyes lingering on certain assets longer than necessary. You could admit that Natasha had an amazing physique. Something you had always admired from a distance.

A subtle flush crept up your cheeks as you realized the direction of your thoughts. Despite your professionalism, you couldn't deny the admiration you held for Natasha's physical prowess. It was a quality you had always respected, even if you had never openly acknowledged it before.

She’d probably kill you if you did it anyway.

Turning your attention back to the pool, you made a conscious effort to focus on the task at hand, pushing aside any lingering distractions. Beside you, you noticed an older woman with graying hair casting a curious glance in your direction. Her eyes flashed with interest as she leaned closer, a warm smile gracing her lips.

“Newlyweds?” she ventured, her voice tinged with a hint of curiosity.

"Yeah, how'd you know?" you replied, feigning innocence as you awaited her response.

The older lady chuckled softly, her eyes sparkling with amusement at your response. "Oh, it's just something about the way you two carry yourselves," she explained with a knowing smile. "There's a certain glow of happiness and togetherness that newlyweds often have. It's unmistakable."

“Wow, you got all that in the five minutes you saw us together?” You questioned. “Are you a psychic or something?”

"Only in a past life," She laughed lightly. "I'm Leslie. And this is my husband Frank. “She referred to the sleeping man with a slight sunburn next to her. You are?" she introduced herself, extending her hand in a gesture of greeting.

"Alexis," you replied with a warm smile, accepting her handshake. "Nice to meet you, Leslie. My lovely wife over there is Joan."

"Oh, I love this newer generation of out and proud love," Leslie smiled wistfully. "It’s so beautiful to see. Such a beautiful couple too. Is this your first time at the resort?"

"Thank you, Leslie," you replied sincerely, touched by her kindness. "Yes, it's our first time here. We heard wonderful things about the resort and couldn't resist experiencing it for ourselves."

“And how do you like it?” Her eyes sparkled with interest.

"It's been quite lovely so far," You added. “It’s been a while since we’ve taken a proper vacation together. I’m so excited for the week we’re here.”

Leslie's excitement was contagious as she spoke about the upcoming events at the resort. "You’re going to be blown away by all of the events this week," she grinned. "There’s a special bonfire tomorrow night that’s simply fabulous. It’s intimate and cozy. Allows you to make friends on vacation."

Your interest was piqued at the mention of the bonfire, as it hadn’t been mentioned in any of the research you’d done. Maybe it was a new development."That sounds wonderful," you replied with genuine enthusiasm, masking any hint of suspicion behind your smile. "We'll definitely have to check it out."

“You absolutely should,” Leslie began to stand. “It would be wonderful for a lovely couple like you to grace us with your presence.” Leslie’s aching bones limited her mobility as she shuffled around the chairs. “I’m going to the bathroom. If Frank wakes up, which I doubt he will, be a dear and tell him I’ll be back.”

“Will do, Leslie,” You nodded, offering a warm smile. She seemed nice enough. You returned your gaze to Natasha to see that she was engaged in a conversation of her own. Seems that people naturally gravitated to both of you.

*******************

For the first time in days, Natasha found a moment of peace at the bar. She settled onto one of the stools, swaying gently to the rhythm of the music as she signaled to the bartender. As he approached Natasha did a quick once over of his body. Something someone of his attractiveness would be used to. His dark, mahogany skin glowed with a natural warmth, complemented by a smile that seemed to light up the entire bar.

His hair, a messy of glossy curls, framed his face in a wild and untamed mane, adding to his charm.

He was dressed in a crisp white shirt and black pants that appeared to be the uniform for all of the staff.

"Hello," Natasha greeted him with a warm smile, her tone playful yet composed. "I'll take a strawberry and lemon mojito, and hmm," she paused, pressing a finger to her chin in contemplation. She was completely in character at the moment. "Surprise me. Something fruity."

"Coming right up," he replied with a nod, before stepping over to his work area.

Natasha watched him for a few moments longer before her eyes trailed over the pool area, she couldn't help but notice the diverse display of people and their lively parties. Briefly, her gaze flickered in your direction, a silent acknowledgment of your presence. You managed to look so relaxed already. Though she could see the subtle ways your eyes would flick over the pool area whenever you laughed or spoke to the older woman sitting beside you.

“Hey, Henry, that couple’s here again.” A short woman with bone-straight brunette hair and botox lips informed him as she stepped behind the counter. She did quick work of washing her hands and gathering abandoned dishes on the bar. Natasha squinted to see her name tag. Blanca. A fitting name.

“Which one?” Henry, the bartender Natasha had spoken to moments earlier, briefly glanced over to her.

“The one with the dog,” Blanca sighed. “Don’t know why Jorge keeps allowing them to bring it. He’s anxious and it’s too hot out here for him anyway.”

Henry furrowed his brow in concern, glancing briefly in the direction of the couple with the dog approaching. "That doesn't sound good," he remarked."Have they caused any trouble?"

Blanca shook her head, her lips pursed in disapproval. "Not yet, but it's only a matter of time. You know how Jorge is, always bending the rules for certain guests."

Natasha's mind raced with possibilities as she listened to their conversation. The mention of Jorge and his leniency towards certain guests hinted at a potential breach in security or protocol.

“Here you are ma’am,” Henry passed Natasha both drinks before she stood to walk back to her seat.

As she passed the couple, the dog in question moved over to sniff Natasha in greeting.

“Oh, hello there,” Natasha smiled warmly, reaching out a hand to give the dog a gentle pat on the head. This certainly wasn’t a service dog based on his relaxed demeanor.

“Oh, Ozzy is so friendly, I’m so sorry,” The woman with platinum blonde hair and several tattoos attached to the leash apologized to Natasha, a hint of concern in her voice.

Natasha waved off the apology with a gracious smile. "No need to apologize, he's quite adorable," she reassured the woman, her tone friendly and welcoming.

As Natasha continued interacting with the dog, she noted the couple's appearance and demeanor. Something about them didn't quite fit the typical resort guest profile of this caliber, and Natasha's instincts told her there might be more to their presence than meets the eye. They both seemed so uptight and frazzled.

Natasha gave them another smile and walked back over to you.

“Took you long enough my drink is probably watered-down liquor,” You pouted. “Eh, this is wow.” You coughed. It wasn’t nasty. It was strong and certainly had more alcohol than fruit somehow.

Natasha arched an eyebrow at your remark.

"Well, perhaps next time you can come behind the bar and make it yourself," she quipped, her tone laced with playful sarcasm. "Then you can ensure it meets your exacting standards."

“My existing standards led me to you,” You said through your teeth.

Natasha's lips curved into a smirk as she settled into the seat beside you, her gaze locking with yours in a silent exchange of understanding.

"Well, lucky me," she retorted. "I'll make sure to keep living up to those standards then."

"Does it ever end?" You fake whispered, turning your head towards Leslie, attempting to convey your thoughts discreetly.

Leslie caught your gaze and smiled kindly, her eyes reflecting understanding. At least she had the decency to pretend she wasn’t listening. "Oh, dear," she replied with a chuckle. "Sometimes it feels like it never does, but there's always a light at the end of the tunnel."

"J, this is Leslie," You introduced Natasha smoothly, seamlessly slipping into your cover story. "She’s my new best friend."

"It's lovely to meet you, Leslie," Natasha added with a friendly smile, her tone warm and genuine.

“Well, aren't you two just the sweetest pair," she remarked, her voice tinged with affection. "I'm delighted to make your acquaintance, Joan. I was telling your wife here about the bonfire tomorrow. It’s something special. You have to see it."

You nodded in agreement, your smile genuine as you responded. "We wouldn't miss it for the world, Leslie. Thank you for the recommendation. It sounds like a wonderful way to spend the evening."

As the conversation dwindled, eventually Leslie drifted over to the poolside and began to make conversation with a few older women. Natasha began to go through the bag she’d brought to the pool and found a small bottle of sunscreen.

"Here, rub this on me," She instructed you, handing you a bottle of sunscreen.

"Why?" you asked, a hint of confusion in your voice as you eyed her pale skin. "Didn’t you already put some on before?"

Natasha gave you a pointed look, her expression conveying a mixture of exasperation and amusement. "Don’t question the logic, just do it," she replied firmly, holding out her arm expectantly.

As you began applying sunscreen to Natasha's exposed skin, you couldn't help but feel a sense of resignation wash over you. Silently, you wondered why you had taken on this job in the first place. It wasn't that you were truly angry; in fact, you were the complete opposite.

This part of the mission had never been difficult before. Playing the part of a fake doting wife had practically become second nature to you. But being here with Natasha felt different. There was something about her presence that stirred emotions within you, emotions you hadn't expected to surface during the mission.

Natasha turned her back to you, dropping the straps of her swimsuit lower on her arms so you could reach her shoulders. The intimacy of the moment caught you off guard, and for a brief moment, you found yourself lost in the sensation of her warm skin beneath your fingertips.

As you rubbed the warm cream into Natasha's skin, the muscles of her back flexed slightly beneath your touch. You couldn't help but notice the way her body responded to your ministrations, and a rush of thoughts flooded your mind. They weren't entirely pure thoughts, and you couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt at the direction your mind was wandering.

But then, a small comfort washed over you - at least Natasha couldn't read minds. You silently thanked whatever higher power existed for that small mercy, grateful that your innermost thoughts remained your own.

"I think we could hang out by the pool for a few hours and then call it a night," Natasha suggested, her voice breaking the comfortable silence between you. "Maybe go over some things."

"Sounds like a plan," you replied, masking any hint of hesitation with a casual tone. "A bit of relaxation by the pool is exactly what I’m here for.”

“Only that?” Natasha looked over her shoulder to you. “And the beautiful women,” You muttered under your breath.

Natasha's expression shifted slightly, a flicker of annoyance crossing her features as she turned to face you fully. "Really?" she questioned, her voice carrying a note of exasperation.

You chuckled, recognizing her annoyance but unable to resist pushing her buttons just a little. "Hey, just stating the obvious," You replied with a shrug.

Natasha rolled her eyes. "Well, try to keep your eyes open okay?" she retorted, a touch of teasing in her tone despite her annoyance. “Don’t sleep with anyone behind my back.”

“I wouldn’t dare,” You pressed a hand to your chest, faking scandilization. “How dare you insinuate I would ever cheat on my beautiful, intelligent, and hot wife.”

“That drink was stronger than you’re letting on,” Natasha smirked knowingly.

“Maybe,” You shrugged. “I guess we’ll never know.” You sighed as you lounged in the chair, your head pointed towards the sun. Natasha turned in her chair to watch you for a few seconds longer before she laid back in her chair.

So far, there was nothing out of the ordinary about this place. It seemed like a typical resort, with sun-drenched pool areas, lush tropical foliage, and guests lounging lazily in the warm afternoon sun.

Everything appeared to be just as it should be, with no signs of the covert operations or clandestine activities that you had been tasked with uncovering.

Despite the lack of immediate danger or suspicious behavior, you remained vigilant, knowing that appearances could be deceiving.

#natasha romanoff #natasha x reader #black reader #black widow x female reader #black widow x reader #natasha romanov #natasha x you

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identityquest · 1 month

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lizzie get two wolves 👍

#strato.txt #oil painting #wip #im worried ive unbalanced the composition w the second one on the right tho... its so much closer to the edge #ugh whatever. aunt lizzie is the focus here #i wish i knew what she actually looked like this is just cobbled together from general features of my family #solid build... dark curly hair... bigass ears. she could be one of my cousins. she could be me #ok rq im gonna lay out the story in the tags for anyone who hasnt seen the previous lizzie art #my great-something aunt lizzie was disabled and couldnt walk very well and she died young #she wanted to see the second floor of the farm house real bad but no one ever carried her up there and she died before seeing it #they buried her in a long white dress somewhere down at the creek. we dont know where her graves lost unfortunately #the night she was buried something wearing a white dress walked into the house and up the stairs and disappeared #and sometimes you can hear her down around the creek screaming #somewhere along the line wolves got mixed into the imagery for me #my uncle told me a story about another 'white thing' that was wolfish and would jump on cars #so i just assumed lizzie was a werewolf my whole life #anyways. i think her staying after she died was a manifestation of her desire for autonomy. maybe #maybe if shed had modern accommodations she wouldnt have felt the need to stick around. or maybe she would have idk #either way i think death afforded her control over her own desires in a way she hadnt experienced before #and i think thats why she still hangs around the creek #i hope she would like this. maybe ill take it down there and leave it out for a night when its finished so she can see

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seeminglydark · 7 months

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We've seen the interior of Johnny's place-- will we ever see Caro's place?

Short answer, yes! Caro’s lived in three different places since leaving their parents, the Datsun they bought with scrapped together cash from their model jobs/beauty pageant winnings as a kid, and a cabin/shed behind the GASCO, once their boss realized they were sleeping in their car and was like, uh, no.

Now they live in a high rise condo in Seattle, I haven’t fully designed it yet but we will see it eventually, both in Seemingly Dark and Mil-Liminal. It’s what you might expect, fairly modern and full of pastels and iridescent stuff. It’s basically a spooky kids Barbie dream house, bordering on cringe in a fun way. It’s got their recording studio and a doorman/security detail who indulge Caro with secret Passcodes and walkie-talkies. They have thus far refused to do any of those celeb house tours so no one really knows where they live or how it looks. They tend to meet people in other places. To be honest even though it’s their ‘dream house’ it’s super fucking lonely and they hate it. They really only go home to record new episodes. That’s why they spend all their time at johns, his house feels like a home, lived in and well loved, even if it’s drafty and cramped. It reminds them of their beloved shed.

#ask me things #I have a Pinterest board I just didn’t have the energy to draw any of it #but i know what the car and the shed look like so you can have that c:#rj rambles #character stuff

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lighteyed · 11 months

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you and i (back at it again) / steve harrington

summary: steve's left standing alone after starcourt, until you show up for him.

word count: 2.2k

author's note: inspired by this tik tok because i nearly shed a tear also this is my first time posting in awhile be nice pls

He watches his friends reunite with their families, mournful. He stands alone and contemplative by a cop car, the various spots of bruising and swelling on his face beginning to pulse with pain the more his adrenaline began to fade out of his bloodstream. The cops at the station said they'd called his parents house, his house, but no one had picked up. He knew they were home. He kicks a rock near his his foot, shoving his hands in the pockets of the bloody uniform he was still wearing. He wants a shower. He wants to go to bed. He wants to go to bed with the serenity of someone who knew they were loved. He wouldn't be able to do that if he went home. The word home a loose term.

"We can take you home if you need a ride, son," one of the cops says to him. Steve kicks at another rock. Home.

"That's alright," Steve says dismissively, ignoring the tight twist in his chest. "Someone will have gotten in touch with my parents by now. I'm sure they're on their way." The cop looks doubtful. Steve hates that he looks doubtful. Steve hates that he's also doubtful. "Couple more minutes," he swears. He knows he might as well walk his ass home, though.

He leans against the hood of the car, rubbing at his jaw. His hand comes away bloody. He's about to accept the cop's offer for a ride, maybe, he figures, he'll just go to Robin's and sit there for as long as her parents will have him, when a car comes careening into the lot like there's not fifty officers of the law standing around, the tires screeching loudly across the gravel. It's barely at a stop, practically still moving, when you throw the door open and throw your body out of it.

"Steve Harrington, what the fuck?" You leave your car door open, leave it in the middle of the road, still running, to get to him in time. He gazes at you, and it's a stupid look in all honesty, mouth agape, his brown eyes big and tragic looking, his face torn up and swollen. He wasn't expecting you. Why would he have been? You'd been broken up for a few months now and he was still nursing his wounds from it, knowing it was supposed to be for the best; you felt like he was hiding things from you and he knew that he was, hiding all the stuff about the Upside Down, not wanting you involved, wanting you safe. And in a way he was glad for it. He'd gotten through this with you unscathed, and who knows what would have happened if you guys had still been together. When he looks at you, though, when he allows himself to be pulled in closer, your hand coming up to graze his cheek, examining every scrape on his face with softness and worry, he allows himself to want. To miss you.

You tilt his face back, scrutinizing his features. He keeps his eyes on you. You showed up for him. No one else but you. You were here. "The fire is all over the fucking news and I didn't know if you were working tonight so I was sitting by the phone waiting to hear from someone and then your friend Robin called and said you were waiting here for someone to come get you so I just came in case and- and what happened to your face? And where are your parents?"

He shakes himself out of his stupor. "They didn't answer the phone." But you did. You answered and you were here. A wave of pure love rushes through him. He knew a thing or two about being alone, had felt that way for as long as he could remember, no matter how many people he surrounded himself with or how many parties he threw, but you were here, and he wasn't alone. Steve wraps his arms around you in one sudden movement, an outpouring of affection he hadn't realized he'd been reserving for you. Always you.

You stand there for a moment, processing, before you respond, leaning into his touch. The sirens wail around you. Neither of you move. He's safe. You breathe relief into the embrace, holding him tighter to you. He's hardly talking, and usually he's the one talking the absolute most, but he's stunned, both with what's just happened, what he's borne witness to, and with the way you care about him despite everything, more than anyone he's ever met, and the way he cares about you and how could he ever, ever let himself let you go? How could that ever happen? It's all he thinks about as he holds you, feeling safer than he's felt in awhile, the smell of your hair and your skin filling his brain with serotonin.

"Am I taking you home?" You pull away, staring up at him, his ruined face that is still so painfully gorgeous, still so hard to look at. Your hand is remains poised on his cheek. It's warm and welcome.

"No, no, your house, please," he brings his hand up to meet yours.

"I got you, c'mon, honey." He turns and thanks the officers who'd been waiting with him before letting you lead him to your car. He keeps his hand on yours. It tethers him to reality. He's here and he's okay. Or he will be, soon. He's here and he's safe, at the very least. He's not trapped and being tortured. No one's going to hurt him. He's got your soft hand in his and he's okay for right now.

The drive to your house is silent, but it's not awkward. You try to keep your eyes on the road as much as you can but you can't help that they keep finding themselves back on Steve. You've never seen him so reserved. You're sure it was more than a fire that happened back there, and you're sure he won't tell you a thing about it. You drive one-handed the whole way home. You let him need you.

At your house, you get your bathroom set up for him to shower, placing fresh towels on the rack for him, laying out your products on the counter. He would've been able to find them regardless, but you busy yourself with it anyway. When you go into your bedroom to tell him the bathroom is ready, his shoes are off and put into the corner he used to always put them in, and he looks exhausted. "I didn't bring clothes to change," is the first thing he says.

"That's what you're most concerned about?" You give him a funny look. You open your closet and rummage around on the ground for a second before tossing him a pair of his old sweatpants and a t-shirt. He stares at them in his hands. "I didn't know if I should give them back. So I just... didn't." He smiles a little. The first you've seen all night.

"Thanks," he waves them in the air before retreating down the hall. The door shuts and the shower squeaks on.

The way you loved Steve was unconditional, as much as you wish it wasn't sometimes. Even when he was pushing you away, even when he kept things from you, you'd always be there for him. He didn't have anyone in his corner like that. And you wanted to be. It wasn't something you felt obligated to do. You cared about him, and so you went to him. He'd do the same if the roles were reversed. It was unconditional because even when being there for him hurt, you still stayed. You still loved.

When he comes back into your room, his hair dripping but clean, God, he feels clean, his face devoid of dried blood but bruised and wounded, you're waiting for him with a first aid kit and a fresh ice pack. You must've heard the water shut off and gotten everything ready for him. The old sweatpants and t-shirt smell more like you now than they do like him but he's not complaining in the slightest. Something about you keeping them instead of throwing them away or lighting them on fire makes him think maybe there's hope. Not that you had a bad break up to begin with, it was more sad than angry, nothing that warranted a clothes burning, but still. Still, still, still.

He sits down where you indicate, rubbing his towel across his head to soak up the sopping water. His face is flushed from the hot water. You sidle up next to him with the medicine and bandages and try not to get too caught up in him. He places the ice pack on his puffy, blackened eye. He doesn't get it, this gentleness. He doesn't think he deserves it, really. After everything, does he deserve it? Does he get this peace?

"You're fidgeting," you mutter, narrowly missing the spot you were aiming for.

"Oh, sorry," he lifts his chin up a bit more and tries to sit still. You're so patient and kind and it makes him ache a little. You take care of him and it's not for any reason other than you caring about him. He's not used to anyone caring about him. "Are you sure this is alright? You don't wanna... be alone?"

"No, I wanna make sure you're okay," you answer easily, as easy as breathing, swiping medicine across his wounds with the lightest touch you can manage. He hisses in pain, and you wince, feeling it, too.

"Are you sure? You don't have to."

"I want to, Steve, I promise." You pat his cheek, another gentle, affectionate maneuver from you. If he's okay, you're okay. He takes this in. He thinks he really feels his heart expanding.

As you start dabbing at his other wounds, you speak, finally. "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course you can," he replies, blinking up at you with his good eye.

"Was this..." you hesitate. He probably won't answer. "I don't doubt there was a fire but this..." you gesture to his face. "This looks a hell of a lot worse than just escaping a fire, Steve, you look seriously fucked up."

"What, you don't think I look pretty anymore?" He smiles again and you roll your eyes at him, but you smile back all the same.

"You're very pretty, Steve, but you have a black eye and there was blood all over your face and you're all cut up." He swoons just a little when you call him pretty. He's got an ego, what can he say? He continues smiling at you, a little high off painkillers, a little high off being here with you. If he's gotta be tortured he may as well get you back out of it.

"You look pretty, too, y'know," he says softly, his free hand twisting a strand of your hair around.

"Dodging the question I see," you raise your eyebrows at him but say nothing else. It was to be expected.

He takes a deep breath, looking up toward the ceiling, thinking maybe all this time he's just been stupid and silly for not telling you sooner, maybe he could've been with you all this time if he'd just told you, maybe it wouldn't have been the end of the world to have you involved. Maybe it would all be fine. "I wanted to keep you safe from all of it. See what happened to me? It could've been you, if you had been there."

"I would've wanted to be there with you," you insist. "You know I would."

"I do," he nods. "And that's why I don't involve you, babe, if something happens to me it doesn't matter to anyone but if something happens to you-"

"Why would you say that to me? You think I wouldn't care if you died?" You take his face in your hands, and he drops his ice pack. "Steve, are you an idiot? It would matter to those kids you spend all your time with if you died. It would matter to Robin, and to your family even if they take you for granted, and it would matter to me. I love you so much you moron, you can't say it wouldn't matter. I wouldn't be here if it didn't matter. I go out of my mind worrying about you, don't tell me you don't matter."

His head spins, in the best possible way. The pain from his wounds doesn't register. Your hands on his face registers. You words register. Everything else is background noise. "You still love me?"

Oh. Your face warms. It's not like it had been that long since you'd called it off, it should've have been a surprise to him, but hearing you say those words makes him light up. You see him light up. "Yeah, of course I do, it doesn't go away just 'cause you won't tell me anything about your life," you grumble, taking your hands off him.

"Hey," he whispers, grabbing for you before you can tear yourself away from him. He brushes the hair back from your face. He has that look in his eyes that make people fall to their knees. Heavy-lidded and tender. Soft. Loving. "I love you, okay? I do. That's why I try to protect you. I'll tell you anything you want." He knows it now, for real, that he can't lose you again. Not this time. "C'mere, come back." You let him pull you in. "I'll tell you anything, please don't leave me, okay?" You shake your head at him. Never, never. He's pleading, desperate. When he moves to kiss you, the desperation is laced in it, he's lurching forward and he's hungry and yearning and your lips meet soft and fast because he wants to savor it after so long.

The disconnect of your lips sends him reeling, he wants to dive back in for more, for more of everything, but you stop him. "It's me and you, okay, always. But you gotta let me all the way in this time." You tap his heart lightly. "All the way, Steve. Everything."

He leans back. He is hesitant and bruised and bloody, a little bit broken, but mostly he's in love. Mostly he wants to give you the world. So he takes your hands in his. He tethers himself to reality. And he talks.

#trying to convince myself posting is FOR FUN i don't have to want to VOM from nerves every time i go to post...#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things #stranger things x reader

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strawbeerossi · 7 months

Text

Trapped In A SUV

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Unit Chief!Spencer Reid

Description: Whenever you and Spencer are on the way to investigate the house of a suspected unsub, the SUV breaks down in the middle of nowhere. It’s a shame that you are both practically cooking in the Texas heat.

Content/Warnings: Case matter but nothing specific, extreme heat, undressing, Spencer is a bit of a pervert, car sex, penetrative sex, unprotected sex.

Word Count: 1.6K

Kinktober Day Thirteen: Car Sex

Navigation || Kinktober Masterlist || AO3

The sound of the engine completely blowing out had you groaning softly as the smoke was coming from the hood of the car. In hindsight, you two probably shouldn’t have left in such a hurry in the first car you could get your hands on. However with a search warrant to search the house of a suspected unsub who you’ve been hunting for days, there was no time to waste.

Until you were stuck on the side of the road, your hand shielding your eyes from the harsh sun as Spencer tugged open the SUV’s hood to be met with a black cloud of smoke. “Jesus,” He muttered, using his hand to waft away the evidence of a vehicle that needed urgent repair. “We are stuck here until someone can pick us up.” You filled in the unit chief as you frowned softly. “Emily said that they had a lead when I was texting her. They will be here whenever they can get here..”

“Of course. That’s just our luck isn’t it.” The male pursed his lips as he pushed the hood shut. “We should get back in the car before we melt out here.” You commented, already feeling beads of sweat forming from the blistering heat.

“We won’t melt but it’s a good idea. The engine isn’t too far gone to the point we won’t have AC. I’m trying to avoid a heat stroke.” Spencer spoke while heading to the drivers side while you had returned to the passenger seat. The blow of the air wasn’t as strong as you preferred it to be but you counted your blessings, you could’ve been stranded and left to cook in the heat.

“Well. I guess you and I are on our own.” He murmured, his gaze on you while his eyes were widening as he watched you work to unbutton your shirt. “What? I’m sweating my ass off. It’s not like I’m getting completely naked.” You stated, now moving to shrug the button up off of your shoulders and tossing it to the side. “You’ve seen a woman in a bra, I’m sure.” You muttered while leaning back against the seat.

His golden eyes were focused on your chest once your eyes were closing, the swell of your breasts being eye-catching in the black bra. It was like they were threatening to spill over the lace. His cheeks were bright red as he noticed a bead of sweat trail down your chest as it rose and fell steadily from your breathing.

He could feel his pants tighten, constricting his hardening cock as he gazed at your body. As he was so focused though, he hadn’t noticed your eyes opening or the fact that he caught you. The hungry look on his face had you intrigued. You didn’t expect for him to be watching you so intently, to have to look as if he was holding himself back from touching your bare skin. “Would you mind if I took my pants off too? I’m burning up here.”

“W-what? I mean, if it’ll be comfortable go ahead..” His voice was at a higher pitch, feeling caught as he was bringing his hands up to loosen his tie.

“You know that you can shed some clothes too, right? I highly doubt the team will judge us.” You suggested, biting back a smirk of amusement while Spencer was letting out a squeak in response. “I don’t know.” He began, his own body going against him as his hands were moving to undo the buttons on his shirt. Waiting for the rest of the team was gonna be fun, at least.

After both of you were stripped down, it was like Spencer was desperately avoiding your gaze, his face cherry red. This was a lot. He wasn’t actually thinking that anything but embarrassment would come out of even attempting to look at your body again. You obviously caught him staring.

You’d turned up the air the best you could, leaning forward. With a moan of satisfaction at the coolness hitting your skin, you turned your head to face Spencer for a reaction. His body was frozen in place as he kept his gaze out the windshield, the smoke coming out of the hood less than it was earlier. The moan was enough to make him shift uncomfortably from his throbbing cock in his pants.

“Hey,” You began while leaning over the console separating you both, offering a smile. “What are you thinking about?” You mused, knowing all too well what you were doing as you were squeezing your arms together slightly, making your tits push up in the bra you had on.

“I-I was just thinking of how, uh, hot it is outside.” And here. Jesus.

“You’re so red, oh, Spence..” You gave a faux pout while bringing a hand up to pat his cheek, thumb running over his skin. Spencer felt like he was going to have a heart attack. This was a lot to handle and you seemed to be eating up every reaction. “I’m fine..” He spoke softly while leaning into your touch.

What happened next happened in a flash, you pushed yourself over the small barrier between you both before you were settled in his lap. The man’s face was red, eyes widened and mouth agape in shock as your clothed cunt was brushing over the very obvious bulge in his underwear.

“I knew it! You were looking at me!” You laughed in victory, hands moving to rest against his shoulders once his long arm was scrambling to push the car seat back to make sure that you were comfortable without having to be shoved against the steering wheel.

“Can you blame me? You practically got naked without needing any prompting.” Spencer found his voice again as he was bringing his hands to rest against your hips, thumbs running over your soft skin. “Plus.. You look so gorgeous, I can’t help it.”

“Spencer.” You gush, nudging his shoulder while you offer a smile. It was your turn to feel your cheeks heat up from the compliment. “”Well.. I can assist you with getting rid of your… Issue.” You wiggled your eyebrows while moving to test the waters of rolling your hips against his, his breath hitching as he let his head tilt against the leather seat. “God, yeah, okay. I’ll bite. Help me out here.” He chuckled, his hands squeezing your hips while you leaned down to press your lips against his in a soft kiss.

As your lips were slotting against one another, Spencer was in a frenzy to get your panties pulled to the side before letting his finger swipe through your folds and brush against your clit, grinning at the gasp muffled into his mouth. You were pulling from the kiss to lift your hips, using your hands to squeeze the tent in his boxers to elicit a groan before getting his cock out of his boxers. “I hate to rush this but I don’t think I can wait any longer.” The both of you were in agreement as Spencer’s hands were grabbing a handful of your ass before you were aligning his swollen tip with your leaking cunt and sinking yourself down.

Both of your groans mixed in the SUV, your ass hitting the front of his thighs as you gave yourself a moment to get adjusted. You could feel every curve, every vein as your cunt was welcoming the intrusion. Letting your hips roll at a slow pace, you were bringing your hands to grip his shoulders.

“Does it feel good? Bet you’ve wanted to do this for years. You like fucking your boss while on the job?” Spencer’s words caused a moan to rip from your throat. “What about you? Fucking your subordinate because you couldn’t keep your eyes to yourself?” You spoke back while Spencer chuckled. “You had your tits out, I’m a man. We are pretty notorious to have an attraction to the female physique.” He chuckled.

“Fair enough,” you spoke softly while continuing with your movements, getting into a good rhythm that was eventually disturbed by the male thrusting upwards, your pussy swallowing his thick cock with no issue.

“Fuck, don’t stop.” You cursed, the windows fogging over from the actions inside as a thin layer of sweat was spreading over both of your bodies, the smell of sex starting to fill the SUV, the vehicle rocking at a steady pace as you both were wrapped up in your rendezvous.

As you fucked like rabbits, you were leaning down to press your lips against his once more. You never thought of having sex with him in a car before, mainly because you always believed it would’ve been different. Maybe after being put together in the same hotel room or the both of you letting out pent up stress in Spencer’s office.

“I’m gonna cum.” Spencer warned, voice husky as he let out a deep groan at the way your velvety walls were clenching around him, his cock twitching inside of you. “Ah!” He panted, a bruising grip on your hips as he roughly thrusted upwards, damn near making your head hit the roof of the car.

The sheer force behind each thrust was enough to have your body trembling, your head falling onto his shoulder as you let out a soft cry of his name, teeth biting down onto his shoulder as your creamy cum was rolling down his cock. He wasn’t deterred, instead now groaning as he couldn’t help but follow right behind. You could feel his cum gush inside of your cunt, eyes fluttering shut as you clutched his shoulders as your partially clothed bodies were pressed against one another’s while coming down from the high of your mixed orgasms.

“I guess I should probably get off of you, huh?” Your words were slurred while Spencer let your hand gently rub your back. “Not yet..” He chuckled, pointing the air vents towards the both of you.

“We have a little bit. Let’s just enjoy the air.”

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foone · 9 months

Text

Your best guess is that you've been in this time loop for something north of 15 years. You've lived that day, April 9th, 1997, something like 6000 times. You think... The second most ironic thing about being in this time loop* is that you have ADHD, and time blindness has always been something you've suffered with.

The time loop hasn't helped. You'll really get into a book, and don't look up from it until it's yesterday. Or, earlier today? Or tomorrow, it's all the same day. You wake up in your bed at 8:27, having slept through your alarm, no matter what happens. You've had plenty of time to do all the classic time loop things: told everyone (they forget the next day), kissed everyone (a surprising number of people turn out to be up for itl), tried to run (you made it all the way to Memphis one day, but it didn't make any difference), tried to make everything perfect and right (harder than you'd think, and there's nothing obvious that needs fixing), and gotten yourself exploded and shot and run over. You even made it into orbit once, NASA still swearing at you on the radio the whole way up. You've robbed all the local banks, kidnapped the mayor, and stolen half the stuff in the town, just to see what people have. Why not? It's hard to have a sense of morality when there are no repercussions to any actions, at least none that last more than 24 hours.

You convinced a scientist to shoot neutrinos at you once, thanks to something you'd read in a book on time. Didn't seem to make any difference, though you could swear the next day felt different, in some hard to define way.

You've gotten into a rhythm of starting each day and just walking out your front door, to visit a different place in the city, and knock on their door. If they're home, you ask questions, then use the answers next time to get further. If not, you let yourself in and see what their house looks like from the inside.

Even their shocking crimes no longer can shock you. Mr. Stevens is a burgler, Jenny J. is halfway through murdering her husband, Alex over on 5th street has a basement full of photos they shouldn't have, and more neighbors than you'd think are cooking meth or growing cannabis in their little backyard sheds or closets.

You can go to the police, you can confront them, you can explose them, or you can get a weapon and go all vigilante on them... It doesn't matter in the long run (and for you, the long run is very short indeed). They'll be fine the next morning, back at it again like nothing happened.

You wake up that same Wednesday morning, put on some clothes, and walk out the door. You got into a gimmick of crossing the road with your eyes closed: you know where the cars are, and if you keep the same pace, they definitely won't hit you. Besides, if you do, you wake up back in your bed. Big woop.

But you don't make it to the road this time. You trip, falling on the hard concrete of the sidewalk. What the hell? Your arms ache from catching yourself, and you have to suppress the time-looper instinct of "I hurt. Restart the loop!",at least until you figure out what happened.

You look back and there's a sneaker sitting on the sidewalk. A perfectly normal shoe, just a little skuffed up. A bit down the sidewalk, there's another, the other foot presumably.

You have a moment of equal parts panic and elation. You're out of the loop? You're out of the loop! This might be Thursday.

You gather yourself from the sidewalk and run back up the path to your door. You open the newspaper... April 9th. This is still the same day. You look back at the road, seeing the patterns of crossing cars you've seen thousands of times before. You listen, and your neighborhood sounds right. You can hear Timothy down the road yelling about baseball, so it's not 9:14 yet.

This isn't a new day. This is the day. This is your day. So why is something different? What, a partial time loop? And almost time loop? Most things are the same, but not all? It makes no sense.

You hear yelling down the road. You jog towards it, as an out of place sound just doesn't happen in your day. Around the corner there's a police officer shouting at a woman who is rapidly disrobing and flinging her discarded clothes at the officer, who is shouting at her and his radio. So far, she seems to be winning, but she's about out of linen ammunition.

You realize you don't recognize her. She's not one of the people you know, and you know everyone. She's someone new, the very anthesis of what a time loop is about. That, combined with recognizing that charicatistic disdain for consequences makes you gasp. My God... She's another time looper. She's done this day before, and it's just repeated, and now she's doing everything to see what happens. You're not alone in this crowded city anymore! You run towards her, eager to introduce yourself.

* Themost ironic thing about being in this time loop is that every copy of Groundhog Day at your local Blockbuster is checked out.

#Time loop #my writing

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pucksandpower · 8 months

Note

if requests are open, can I pls request baby vettel telling her brothers (the grid kids) she has a "boyfriend" when she comes home from kindergarten one day ??? if requests are closed, please ignore 💗 love your works so much !!

Grid Kids: Cooties

Sebastian Vettel x wife!Reader x platonic!drivers

Summary: the grid kids take being big brothers very seriously

Series Masterlist

“No.”

Max’s voice is firm, his face aghast.

Charles, sitting next to him, nods in agreement. “I thought we agreed that you’re not allowed to date until you’re 40?”

Your daughter looks up from her crayon artwork, her little brows furrowing. “But Tommy said we’re boy ... boyfr …”

Lance interrupts, “Boyfriend and girlfriend? No, no, no. Absolutely not.”

George chimes in, holding up a toy car, “Tell whoever this Tommy is that you’re too busy racing to have a boyfriend.”

Lando adds, “Besides, boyfriends mean cooties. Do you want cooties?”

She tilts her head, pondering the dire consequences of these so-called cooties.

Charles, trying to be the voice of reason, kneels down to her level. “Sweetie, you’re a smart, wonderful little girl. And Tommy is, well ... you can do better.”

Mick, watching the entire exchange, laughs. “Guys, she’s just a kid. They’re probably just sharing crayons.”

Lando looks scandalized, “Crayons today, hearts tomorrow. It’s a slippery slope!”

Sebastian, watching the overprotective madness unfold, turns to you with a smirk, “I think our daughter has a solid set of bodyguards.”

You laugh, wrapping an arm around him. “Good luck to any actual future boyfriends.”

Your daughter simply shrugs, scribbles something on a piece of paper, and hands it to Charles. “For Tommy.”

Charles reads aloud, “We can be friends. But no cooties. Okay?”

***

The next day after school, Max bends down to your daughter’s eye level, “Now, which one is Tommy?”

She points a tiny finger to a little boy playing with a toy car on the playground. He has sandy hair and an innocent expression as he makes car noises.

Lando claps his hands together, “Alright, mates, game faces.”

George rolls his eyes but can’t help his grin, “Really? We’re really doing this?”

Lance nudges him, “We have to ensure he’s good enough for our sister!”

As the grid kids approach Tommy, he looks up, wide-eyed at the small army of grown-ups marching towards him.

Charles squats down, “Hey there, buddy. You Tommy?”

Tommy nods slowly, clutching his toy car.

George, leaning down too, tries to sound stern, “We heard you’re, uh, dating our sister.”

Lando, animatedly acting out air quotes around the word dating, adds, “We just wanted to have a quick chat.”

Mick, clearly finding the whole situation hilarious, jumps in, “You know, about intentions and all.”

Tommy blinks, “Inten-what?”

Max clears his throat, “Look, Tommy, we just want to make sure you’re treating our sister right. No stealing her toys or snacks.”

Lando jumps in again, “And absolutely no cooties. We had a long talk about that.”

Tommy nods fervently, “I don’t have cooties!”

Charles chuckles, “Good to know. So, you’ll play nice with her?”

Tommy nods again, “I promise. I just wanted to show her my new car.” He holds up the toy proudly.

George pats him on the head awkwardly, “Alright, Tommy. Just remember, we’re watching you.”

***

“Operation Sneaky Sneak is a go. Over,” Lando whispers dramatically into his walkie-talkie from his hiding spot behind a bush.

“Copy that,” George responds, trying to peer into Tommy’s living room window from a tree branch, “They’re ... playing with dolls? Oh, and there are some cookies. Over.”

Lance, hidden behind a garden gnome, chimes in, “I hope they're chocolate chip. Over.”

Charles, from his spot on top of a garden shed, adds, “No visual on any suspicious activities. Just some Barbies about to get the worst haircut of their life. Over.”

Mick, wedged between two trash cans, mutters, “Feels like we’re in a bad spy movie.”

Max, crouching behind a car, counters, “Feels? We ARE in a bad spy movie.”

Suddenly, the back door to Tommy’s house swings open and out step his parents, chatting and laughing. The grid kids freeze.

George, panicking, whispers into the walkie-talkie, “Abort mission! I repeat, abort!”

Lance tries to slink away, “Going dark! Going dark! We have been compromised.”

But it’s too late. Tommy’s mother spots them. “Um, gentlemen? What are you doing?”

Charles attempts to play it cool, “Oh, you know, just ... birdwatching. Beautiful sparrows around here.”

Tommy’s father suppresses a grin, “In our backyard? With walkie-talkies?”

Lando, thinking on his feet, responds, “Modern birdwatching. Very high tech. Over.”

Mick gives him a look, “Did you seriously just say over out loud?”

Max tries to salvage the situation, “We just wanted to ensure the playdate went ... smoothly.”

Tommy’s parents burst into laughter. “You guys really care about her, huh?”

Before anyone can respond, there’s a rustling from above. Thunk! “Ow!” Thwack! “Not the face!” Crash! “My hair!”

Everyone’s attention is immediately drawn to George who has dramatically fallen out of the tree, hitting almost every branch on the way down.

Rubbing his back, George groans from where he’s splayed on the ground, “Guess I should leave the climbing to the kids.”

Tommy’s mother takes pity on the fully grown children masquerading as adults in front of her, “Would any of you like to come in for juice boxes?”

The grid kids exchange sheepish glances. “Yes, please,” they reply in unison.

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themorningsunshine · 1 year

Text

Pie - eyed over you

Mafia - Baker AU

Masterlist Series Masterlist

Pairing - Mafia!Bucky x Baker!Reader

Summary - When a new baker in town refuses to abide by his rules, Bucky has no option but to go and take care of it himself. But nothing could prepare him for what stood on the other side. Nothing could prepare him for you.

Warnings - Mentions of murder and weapons

Word count - 3.3k

a/n - This is my first time writing an AU and I am super nervous (also because I have combined two things I can just not write about, weapons and cooking). Please let me know what you think.

Rain was pouring heavily on the roof of the shed and he wasn't sure if the old sheds meekly covering the building could contain them much longer. He couldn't care less.

He walks out of the building and into the rain, wiping his left arm on his dry coat to wipe off the blood covering it. The pouring rain caresses his face but does nothing to the ever-present frown on his forehead and the grimace on his lips.

He used to love the rain as a kid. The gentleness of the droplets, the smell of rain, and the puddles. It was so much easier back then. So innocent. He closes his eyes as droplets slide their way all over him. They touch him like they don't know what he has just done.

His frown deepens as images claw into his mind once again. He clenches his fist remembering how it had taken him mere 10 seconds to shoot 3 bullets straight into the man's head. The killing had become easier over the years. Picking the bullet and shooting straight into the target had become second nature to him.

What hadn't become easier was the aftermath. The guilt that somehow always gnawed its way into his heart. The question was there any other way?

With his eyes still closed, he brings his face towards the sky, daring the rain to wash away his thoughts the same way it has washed away the blood that stuck to his metal arm not so long ago.

He likes the rain for a completely different reason now.

It provides him with an escape.

From his mind.

His thoughts

The images. The man screaming, begging him to stop and he doesn't even feel disgusted by himself when he doesn't even falter. He left his men to take care of the body.

A face lingers in his mind, pushing away all the dark thoughts. His ma "Bucky "

It's like he can hear her call out to him, urging him to come back home.

She would have hated how he turned out.

But he tells himself he doesn't care.

It didn't matter what his ma would have thought about him. She wasn't here. She didn't have to know.

He snaps his eyes open when he doesn't feel the rain falling on his face anymore. He can still hear the raindrops thudding on the roofs of the buildings. He looks up to see a huge umbrella over his head, shielding him from the rain.

He frowns and follows the handle of the outrageous floral print object only to be met by the sight that was going to change his life forever.

The first thing he saw when his eyes met y/e/c ones was that they held a certain softness to them that he didn't think still existed in this world. He was almost afraid to take his eyes off yours as if he was scared that you would crumble down under his gaze.

But when he brought his eyes over your face and then the rest of you, he knew it was the most beautiful sight his eyes had ever landed on. That even the most beautiful paintings in the world didn't hold a candle to you.

"Are you okay?" You whispered, voice so gentle, it could calm the most violent of storms.

Bucky thinks those are the most precious three words he has ever heard. He nods his head, mostly because he doesn't speak too much these days and also because it has been a very long time since someone has asked him that question.

"I am walking that way and the rain is increasing, you don't want to get drenched. Walk with me?" You ask and he thinks he would burn the whole world down to the ground with a smile on his face if you asked.

He looks at the way you are pointing and realizes that's where his car is parked. He says, "Okay" and sees as you take a step towards him, covering the both of you with your umbrella, and his senses are filled with your smell. You smell like freshly baked cookies and coffee. It's his new favorite smell.

You take a couple of steps ahead before turning towards him and he realizes he is staring. He doesn't remember the last time when somebody had enthralled him so much. For some reason, he just can't get himself to look away.

"I have not seen you around before." He says only to hear you speak again.

"Yeah, I am kind of new here. Been less than a week." You reply with a smile on your face and Bucky thinks this cursed town has just been blessed.

You look around before commenting, "It's a beautiful town." And for the love of god, he can't figure out how this part of the town which is more of a dumpster with remnants of buildings all around can be beautiful to somebody.

"This is not really a safe place." When you look at him with confusion in your eyes, he continues, "Especially at this time of night." As if that explanation is enough. He straightens his back and tries to get the confident, mob aura he has around everyone. "What are you doing here?"

If his slightly changed demeanor throws you off guard, you don't point it out. You just bite your lip before speaking, "What if I tell you I lost my way?"

The chuckle that leaves him is involuntary. "Really? Lost your way?"

"Hey. In my defense, it's just been a week." You place your hand on your chest in fake offense.

"Where were you heading to?"

You put your hand in your pocket before taking out a piece of paper. "Here"

Bucky takes the paper from you and looks at it with furrowed brows. "Why are you walking this way? This place is at the other end of that alley." He says before pointing out to a dark alley.

You make an o shape with your mouth before turning toward where he is pointing. "Got it. Thanks."

When you reach his car and his driver opens the door for him, he turns back before saying, "Let me drop you." It doesn't sound like a request.

"No, no. It's fine. I don't want to be trouble. Also, I am not sure your car would fit in there." You said before tilting your umbrella towards yourself.

"I'll see you around." You tell him before giving him a small wave and walking away, a smile still etched on your lips.

Bucky stands there, watching you go, and realizes he didn't ask your name. But he'd be damned if he let you go in that alley alone. He asks one of his men to make sure that you reach your destination safely.

"Keep an eye from afar." He instructs him. Voice cold and commanding.

But the frown on his head and the grimace on his lips are a little less evident on the way back.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

"What the fuck am I supposed to do with this?" Bucky's voice bellowed around the dark room, startling everyone around him.

"S- sir, I tried." Peter bows his head before whimpering.

Steve, who has been standing beside Bucky's chair leans in to whisper, "He is just a kid, Buck."

Bucky rubs his hand over his face before looking at Peter trying his best to give him a soft look. "Okay, Peter. I don't have time for this. What exactly is the problem here? And don't tell me a full-blown story."

"S-sir, the new bakery. The owner says she isn't going to pay the money. Said something about taxes and also that, 'If I don't barge in there asking for weapons, don't barge into my place asking for money.'

Some of the men standing in the corner chuckle but are rewarded by a glare from Bucky.

"I don't have time to deal with a Baker. Did you tell her that everybody in town pays the money? It's for protection." He says, voice slightly irritated. The townspeople feared him. There was no doubt about that in his mind. Hence, they sent him money at the start of every month diligently. But sometimes, out of the blue, someone would come and try to be the savior, trying to rebel. He didn't understand what they wanted. He wasn't a monster. Over the years, he had relieved some people of paying the money on various occasions.

"I did tell her that, sir. She asked me who exactly is this protection from." Peter whispered, now slightly trembling with fear.

This piqued Bucky's interest. Over the years, nobody had ever asked his men the reason behind the money. They just obliged.

Peter continued, "I told her it's from the mob. Some of us. And she said she isn't going to pay us to do the bare minimum, to be human." Bucky leaned back in his chair and shut his eyes in annoyance.

Steve spoke up, "It's okay, Buck. I'll handle this. You know they all give in eventually."

Bucky opened his eyes and stood up from his chair. "Nope, I will come with you. This is different." He then looked at Sam who was standing at the other end of the room, "Receive the order of the weapons. The delivery is scheduled in an hour."

Same nodded his head before walking out of the room. Bucky dismissed the other men and along with Steve walked towards Peter, both of the men towering over him.

"Peter, are those crumbles of pie on your face?"

A shiver passed through Peter at his cold tone and he willed himself to speak, "She gave it to me, sir. I tried to refuse. Really did. But she said that I am just a kid and don't deserve - " Peter cut himself before he could speak too much. He somehow had the habit of always speaking about stuff that is supposed to be kept secret.

A small smile found its way to Bucky's lips but it was gone as soon as it came and he patted Peter's shoulder dismissing him. "This is different." He said to Steve before walking out of the room.

And for some reason, he was sure it was true.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚

"We are here, sir."

Bucky looked up from the file he was reading to his driver and then around him. It was one of the good areas of the town where families stayed, holed up in their whole little world, the darkness of the other side not fully reaching them.

Steve instructed the driver and the guard to stay in the car as the both of them walked out. "That is the one," Steve said pointing towards something.

Bucky followed his gaze and his movements faltered for a slight second. He had never seen something so - warm.

A little bakery standing between a bookstore and a cycle stand with sweets adorning its shelves looking delicious enough to lure anybody inside—soft music playing in the little speaker placed outside. People occupying the chairs outside and inside the shop, kids running around with huge grins on their faces, every one into their own little world.

It looked lively.

Bucky couldn't remember seeing something like this in the town before. Maybe he hadn't even bothered, or maybe something had really changed. With their black sunglasses and dressed up in dark colors from head to toe, he wasn't sure if he and Steve were going to fit in, but he couldn't care less.

As they walked closer, Bucky could now see most of the shop and when his eyes landed on the sole person behind the counter, his breath hitched in his throat.

Removing his sunglasses to get a better look, he stopped in his tracks when his suspicions were confirmed.

It was her.

The girl with the floral umbrella and the warm smile.

The girl who had somehow crept her way into his thoughts more than he would like to admit in the past week since he had seen her.

And she was beautiful.

He saw as you stood behind the counter, handing a box to a little girl with a huge grin on your face, the girl jumping up and down in excitement as you leaned towards her to whisper something.

He then saw the little girl run out of the bakery, clutching the box to her chest towards her mother as if it was the most precious thing in the world. When his eyes went back to you, he saw how you talked to the next customer, an old lady, with the same huge grin on your face.

He hadn't noticed that he had been staring until Steve cleared his throat, a smirk on his face. Before Steve could say something, Bucky muttered, "Stay here, let me handle this." He walks towards the stops with a calculated gaze and a perfected aura of confidence.

As he opens the door to the bakery, the smell of coffee and cookies hits him hard and a feeling of warmth engulfs him.

"How can I - " Your words die in your throat when your eyes land on the familiar figure.

Bucky could swear your smile gets wider.

You compose yourself before saying, "Hey, I know you. You are the cute guy from the other day."

Bucky frowns as he takes in your words. Cute? Did you just call him cute? He had been called intimidating, scary, and even sexy. But cute? He was furious. He was anything BUT cute. Also, was he allergic to something in the shop? Why the hell was his stomach suddenly fluttering?

He also ignores the way his heart is beating quicker at the realization that you remembered him. What was happening to him today? "I am looking for y/n l/n."

Your smile turned slightly mischievous as you replied, "That would be me."

Bucky's eyes almost widened at that. "You are y/n? The owner of the bakery?"

"Yup." You said popping the p as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "And the last I checked, introductions went both ways."

You raised your hand towards him for a handshake and after looking at your hand for a moment, he shook it. "I am B - James." For some reason, he didn't want you to know who he was. The nickname might give it away.

You smiled at him again before returning your hand, a little too early for Bucky's liking, "So, James. What can I get you?"

He had it all planned. It was like second nature to him. I want my money. Abide by the rules, you don't want to know the consequences. It was the usual. But for some reason, his mouth had gained a mind of its own as it said before he could comprehend, "Cupcakes"

You looked at the huge display of baked goods before looking back at him, "Which one?"

Bucky gave the display a glance, he was sure he hadn't ever tasted most of them. "What do you recommend, sweets?"

He watches as you are visibly taken aback by the nickname. A smirk find its way to his lips as he watched red color creeping up to your neck.

"I - uhm" You take a breath to compose yourself. Get it together. "These red velvet cupcakes just came out of the oven and they are kinda my favorite. So.." You look at Bucky with excitement in your eyes and he likes how passionate you are about your work.

"I'll take a box."

You smile at him before bending down to pack a box of the delicacy and he watches how you oh-so-gently pick up each piece before placing it inside the box with practiced precision.

When you hand over the box to him and your hands brush, you feel the sparks through your spine once again as when you had shaken hands.

When he puts a hand in his pocket to retrieve the money, you cut him off. "Don't worry about it. It's on the house."

Bucky smiles a little before replying, "Sweets, you keep giving free goods like that and you'll have to close the shop soon." He says in a teasing voice.

"I'll let you in on a secret, James." You lean towards him as if it is the most secretive thing in the world. "This is a business strategy."

He frowns a little, trying to cover the fact that he was getting too comfortable with how close the both of you were, before saying, "How's that?"

"The first order is on the house but then you come again. And again. It's really profitable."

There is this - innocence and purity in your voice that reminds him of a little child. Of old times. Easier times. And he just stares into your eyes for as long as he can, as if they could help him escape, become a portal to a time long lost.

You don't dare to move either. His eyes are the prettiest shade of blue you have ever seen. They have this intensity to them as if hiding the stories of a lifetime and you just can't get yourself to look away. You have always loved a good mystery.

Bucky clears his throat, bringing the both of you out of the daze as he brings the teasing tone back to his voice, "What makes you think I will come back?"

You chuckle a little before giving a proud smile. "Oh, you will, James. I trust my cupcakes."

He gives you another small smile as he takes a step back. This is the longest conversation he has had with a person outside his line of work in a very long time. Everybody was just too scared but he couldn't care less.

"Goodbye, sweets." He says before letting the new customer who had just entered go ahead.

"Goodbye, James. Until next time." You add with a wink.

Bucky walks out of the bakery, his initial motive forgotten completely. From the outside, he turns back to look at you for the one last time and watches as you say something that makes the teenage boy laugh while taking out cookies from the shelf.

A moment later, you look towards the window and your eyes meet for a fleeting second. You smile at him and give him a small wave.

Bucky turns around to walk towards his car when he notices Steve standing a few feet away with a knowing smirk on his face.

Bucky rolls his eyes before muttering with clenched teeth, "Don't"

Steve doesn't ask about the money and Bucky is glad. He isn't really sure how he would answer. Whatever happened wasn't what he was expecting. You weren't what he was expecting.

As he slid into the back seat of his car, the image of your smile when you were that close to him lingered in his mind and he couldn't stop the way his lips had pulled slightly upward.

When the car started driving, and with Steve on a phone call, he opened the box of cupcakes and picked one to take a small bite.

As he takes the first bite, the softness and the sweetness of the cake engulf him and leave him wanting more. He doesn't remember eating something this good in a long time.

And for many reasons, he will definitely visit again.

Next part

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cherry-leclerc · 8 months

Text

fucked-up little thrill ☆ cl16

genre: pwp but also porn with plot (the best of both worlds!), humor, she truly is a maneater in disguiseee

word count: 8.3K

There’s a difference between warning and danger - you happen to be both. Though, Charles only sees the green light, go. Well, we can all imagine how this will already go.

nsfw warnings under the cut!

18+...oral (m and f receiving), fingering, handjob, penetrative sex, riding, slight cry, unprotected sex

inspired by this and this !

“She’ll mess with your head, man. You’re going to wish she had never looked your way.”

“I told my mom about her. Crap, I bought her an engagement ring after a few days of knowing her.”

“Four words: Get. The. Fuck. Out.”

“Do you know how fucked in the head you have to be in order to willingly go after her? Fucking pathetic. Sure, I did the same, but hear me out-”

Despite the warnings, he didn’t pay them any attention. He thought he was going crazy for sure when he saw two guys on their knees, begging: Run, just do it. And whatever you do, don’t look back.

Charles wasn’t even listening.

The nights were beginning to get warmer, yet there was still a slight breeze. Spring was rolling in. What an innocent season to meet the wildest card Charles has ever dealt.

“...then she laughed so hard that, Jesus Mary and Joseph, my heart went bananas! Y’know what I did next? I asked her, ‘You want a slice?’ I meant the tiramisu, guys! She thought I was talking about myself! T’was the most embarrassing thing. Made me look like a bloody narcissist.” Lando whined as he leaned onto the table to hide his face.

George snorts. “Ah don’t worry mate, I would gladly take a slice.” Lando groans, further rubbing his forehead onto the table. So much so, that it began to squeak.

“Alright, calm down before you shed your skin off. It wasn’t that bad.” Alex voices, as he pops a curly fry into his mouth.

“Easy for you to say! You basically have the person you’re going to get married to! You’re safe.” The Brit pouts. He then lifts his head up and wipes away a single tear. Everyone explodes into laughter.

“Muppet, c’mon we were kidding! Weren’t we just fooling around, Charles?” Carlos wiggles his eyebrows at the Monegasque. Charles rolled his eyes playfully.

“Yes, of course we were joking,” he starts. Lando looks up, seemingly feeling better as everyone began to agree. We were just playing around!

“Then again, how did you even fall for a girl like that?” Charles finishes his sentence.

“Argh. You don’t get itttt,” Lando wails in defeat. “When you meet a girl like that, you don’t question it. You just thank God for sending her your way and then BAM! She just walks out of your life.”

Hm - Charles thinks to himself as he takes a sip of Martini - naive, naive little Lando.

Charles met you that same night he was out for dinner with the boys. He was waiting for his car from the valet; shooting Joris a quick text.

"Sorry," he overhears a soft voice, but still didn’t pay much attention.

"Sorry? You’re sorry? We both know goddamn well that you’re sorry about nothing. Nada. Zeeerrrooo," a man's voice angrily shouts back, voice slurring.

Charles turns and sees a man running his hands through his blonde hair, walking back and forth in despair. Then, his eyes move to find you.

Standing tall in the tightest, shortest, black dress he's ever seen. So, the little black dress truly does exist. Glowy skin shining through from the lights decorating the outside of the restaurant. Your legs appear miles long, feet paired with your nicest set of heels, Joli Queen Glitter. Red fucking bottoms. Christian Louboutin at its finest. Rich jewelry sits on your wrists, fingers, and neck.

Even with all that in the way, all he notices is just how drop-dead gorgeous you are. Suddenly, his fingers get clammy. What the hell? His jaw was clenched. Literally, why? His pants were growing tight because oh God he was already har- Alright, now that’s just crazy, Charles. Get it together.

“Yes. Whether you believe me or not, I’m sorry. Maybe you just shouldn’t have set high expectations,” you spoke, looking down.

“Are you being fucking serious right now? You’re smiling? You think this is funny! Oh God, what the fuck is wrong with you, you crazyyyy bitch!” The man continues, sharply pointing his finger at you accusingly. He genuinely looks like he’s about to start crying for his mommy.

“Okay mate, I think that’s enough. Why don’t I call you a cab?” Charles speaks up from where he’s standing. You and the mysterious guy turn to look at him.

You shoot a smile as the man's eye starts twitching.

“Oh great! Great, great, great,” the man chants. “What an idiotic thing to believe that you hadn't gotten rid of me already! How could I not see it coming?” He drops to his knees and starts rocking back and forth. “On my dead hamster's birthday!” Levi, Charles later finds out, cries out to the sky. “Couldn’t this have happened any other day?” Charles cringes. “Call me that shitty ass cab, dude.”

So, you stand close by as Charles helps plop Levi inside with the help of the cab driver. They buckle him up and off they go.

Not before Levi pokes his out the window. “I swear I’m not being bitter when I tell you to fucking save yourself!”

Both of you are left there standing quietly. You pout your red lips as you pull out your phone to call a cab for yourself.

“Need a lift?”

Glancing around silently, you sneak a look at Charles. Handsome, you ponder, just a tiny bit. Outrageous lie. You quickly scold yourself for being so untruthful. This man was the most beautiful kind you’ve seen in your entire life.

“Take it that was your boyfriend back there?” He taps his fingers against the wheel.

“Mmm. Hardly. No, he isn’t - wasn’t - my boyfriend by any means. Some guys just instantly assume stuff over any girl that pays them any ounce of attention.” You lazily trace shapes onto your thigh. You tug your dress down a bit, licking your lips. “Thanks for helping me out back there. It was really sweet.”

He notices the way you never look up from your lap as you’re speaking. It’s kind of endearing, just how soft you can be. “Don’t mention it…it was…no problem.”

He walks you from his car to your house. It's small, pastel yellow with a mailbox that reads; No more love letters. Seriously. “Cute,” he comments. You blush.

“Oh, that. Sorry, I live with my two best friends and they wrote that as a joke,” you ramble as you click your heel shyly. “They said it would help out with my, and I quote, ‘secret admirers.’” You let out a tired laugh as you finally build up the courage to look at the man standing right in front of you.

“To be honest, that makes sense.” He tilts his head a bit, analyzing your eyes. “Beautiful girls should receive beautiful letters.”

Tongue tied, you stare back with a pleased smile.

“This is so unlike me, but would you like to go out some time?”

Easiest question ever asked.

A few nights later, he finally decides it would be a good day to take you out to dinner. Testing went well and the car was finally on the right track. He took this as a good omen.

“How long have you lived in Italy now?” you quiz, as you bring your Shirley Temple closer to your lips.

“Oh, um, for quite a while now. I mean it’s really only for work. I go home any chance I get.”

“Sweet. Where are you from?”

“Monaco.”

Your eyes grow wide with excitement. “Really! Monaco is so beautiful!” Your childlike squeal makes him smile brightly.

“Have you ever been?” You sadly shake your head, hair bouncing back and forth. Soft floral fills the air.

“Nope, but I wish to one day. I just know I’ll love it so much…” You trail off. “It’s just that growing up my favorite movie was Monte Carlo. Would beg my mom to play it any chance I could.” Maroon coats your cheekbones. He furrows his dark brows in confusion.

“Monte Carlo? You know, starring Selena Gomez?” His soft features pinch together. “...Leighton Meester? Katie Cassidy?” You desperatelyspit your words, trying to assist. He continues shaking his head. Never heard of it.

Your mood grows sulky as you pout. Leaning back, you finally take a sip of your drink. Oh, well now I really want something stronger than this.

“I would love to watch it some time though!” Charles tries as his voice cracks. He winces.

“Sure!” Though, you're not looking at him anymore. Your eyes are trained behind him. He’s about to turn around and ask if you’re fine, when you finally speak up. “I think I’ll go to the bar for another drink. Be right back!” He huffs.

You weren’t back for almost too long. Finally, deciding to go look for you, he stands and takes long strides all around the dark restaurant. When he finds you he sees you’re not alone.

A man in an all black suit seems to be your new company. You giggle as he appears to slide some type of business card to you. Just as you're about to grab it Charles strolls over to you both.

“Is your drink finally ready?” he asks as he wraps a protective arm around your waist. You flinch. You hadn’t even seen him walk over.

“Charles!” you shriek, as you crumble the piece of paper into the palm of your hard, hurriedly. You pray that he hadn’t noticed, but he had. Something inside of him told him not to ask. “I was actually on my way back. Did you need anything? A drink?” you ask, furrowing your brows attentively.

“No, thank you, amour,” Charles warmly replies, looking into your glossy eyes. You truly were the best thing he’s ever laid eyes on.

“My apologies for getting in the way.” The man extends his hand out to Charles. “Aiden Quinn, pleasure to meet you.”

Charles may be upset that Aiden ruined his date, but he wasn’t keen on being rude, so begrudgingly, he shook his hand. “Charles Leclerc.” See, normally Charles isn’t the type to throw his name out like that expectantly, but he felt as if he had a point to make. He did, though. I was here first.

The man grins ear to ear, nodding. “Yes, that’s where I know you from. I knew you looked familiar. Formula 1 driver, right? Ferrari?” He points with a knowing smile.

“Scuderia’s number one driver, yes.” His grip around your waist stays secure. Meanwhile, your eyes are open to their fullest. Surprisingly, you had no idea.

“Certainly. I’m one of the team's ambassadors, actually,” Aiden challenges. Charles clenches his jaw. “When you have million dollar businesses all around the world, you try to find a place to help. Ferrari really needs it at the moment.” You’re equally as shocked with Aiden as you are with Charles.

“Well then, I’ll make sure to dedicate my next podium to you I suppose." You shift uncomfortably. This reminds him you’re there. With him. Ha! Take that, Quinn! “Anyhow, I would love to chit chat with fellow fans, but I must say we have to get going.” He holds your hand firmly as he leads you out.

“Goodbye, Aiden!” you beam as you depart ways.

“Formula 1 driver now, is it?” you curiously ask as you look over where he has one hand over the steering wheel and running the other calmly through his hair.

“Thought you knew.”

“I had no clue! Zip!” you shriek as fling your arms through the air. He laughs as he pulls into an abandoned parking lot.

“In the mood for something sweet?”

“Grazie mille,” the Monegasque says as he's handed cones of freshly made gelato. Smiling, he makes his way back to you. Hands you per requested raspberry, as he keeps his lemon one.

“Molto gentile.” You inspect and nod your head in approval. Just hearing your tongue curl in Italian has him swooning. You take a lick and release a soft moan. “So sweet. Best I’ve ever had,” you declare as you continue enjoying your treat innocently.

Charles gulps, trying to cool down. “I told you it was the best.” He shoots a wink over to Luca, the owner, for keeping the shop open for a few more minutes.

“You scared me a bit back there.”

“Pfft. With that Aiden guy…I’m sorry about that–”

“God no. Honestly, I completely forgot about that,” you mutter. “I meant with that whole, ‘In the mood for something sweet?’. Thought you were like the rest.”

The 25 year old keeps quiet for a minute. He gathers his thoughts before settling with, “I promise I’m not.”

“Keeping my fingers crossed you aren’t.” You look around with twinkling eyes. “You know, a date I once had asked me-”

You want a slice?

No.

“It shocked me how straight forward he was being. It wasn’t even our second date! I barely even knew the guy.” You frown at the memory. “Then he blamed it on the tiramisu.”

I meant the tiramisu, guys!

God no.

“Never saw him again,” you finish as you finally focus back on him. A pale Charles is all you find.

“Woah, are you okay?”

“Yes! I’m so good! You look lovely! Did I mention it already cause if I didn’t then call me the worst date ever!” He begins nervously laughing. His gelato dripping all over his arm.

“I think you did.” You smile as you hand him a few napkins. He returns the gesture, thanking you. “And don’t worry about it, leave that spot for Lando. Now he might take the crown.”

Charles let out a groan.

Charles went back and forth deciding whether he should reach out to you. He liked you. A lot. Nonetheless, he was hesitating because he just couldn’t do something like that to Lando. The Brit was as bummed out as one could get. So, it's settled. Bye bye baby.

“Of course. Tonight at 8,” your voice confirms on the other side of the line. Charles celebrates with a quick dance.

“See you then.”

He decides today that he wants to switch things up. Do something that would make him stand out from anyone that came before him.

“Monaco?” Leaning on the hood of Charles' car, you feel you have to be dreaming. He nods his head lively.

“I could show you around, y’know be your personal tour guide.”

“You should have warned me! I don’t have anything ready!” you yelp as you hold your hands over your heart, frantically. He would be more worried if it weren’t for you smiling like the Cheshire Cat.

“We still have time. Come on, I’ll help you pack.”

When you make it to Monaco you’re greeted by a young guy wearing glasses, driving a Ferrari Pista. Charles and him fit in a quick embrace before they turn their attention back to you.

“Ah yes, this is Joris. He’s one of my closest friends,” Charles states as you warmly reach for a handshake.

Reciprocating, Joris says, “Very nice to meet you.” You smile, returning the greeting. “Must say, you are just as beautiful as Cha had mentioned, if not more.” You blush as Charles clears his throat awkwardly.

“D'accord, mec. Pas besoin de le dire au monde entier,” Charles mutters. “Thank you for picking us up.” Joris nods, carrying your luggages. You share a quick goodbye before he finally makes his way to another car. “That’s also one of my very good friends, Marta.” You smile and wave as they drive off.

Monaco definitely met your expectations. Everything just captivated your attention so much that you wouldn’t be surprised if you started to drool.

“Holy shit. Your home is absolutely stunning!” you gasp. He wheels your bags in as he exhales.

“Merci. Make yourself at home.”

Thankfully, the flight was quick so you both have plenty of energy to go out for a late night snack. He takes you to his; Favorite place in the world! You’ll see.

A little stand sits in the corner of the street.

“Lou makes one of the best crepes. Trust me, I’ve been a loyal customer since my school days.”

A little old lady is attending to customers, but stops as soon as she spots Charles. “Charlie! Chérie, je ne savais pas que tu étais de retour!” She makes her way around to hug him.

“Des projets de dernière minute, mais j'ai juste envie de manger une de tes incroyables crêpes,” he replies, as they pull away.

“And who is this pretty girl?” she questions as she looks at you, standing there patiently.

“Oop, hello. I’m a friend of Charles.” Lou smiles teasingly.

“Charlie, tu es là pour me dire que tu vas te marier?” Lou suddenly looks over the moon.

“Non!” he quickly shouts, so suddenly, you and Lou both jump a bit. Tight lipped, he apologizes.

“Like she said, we’re just friends."

The next morning after breakfast he recommends you bring something you can swim with. Skipping your way to his room, which he is kindly sacrificing for you, you roam through your luggage until you find a baby blue bikini.

“You don’t get sea sick by any means, right?” He looks over at you with scrunched brows underneath a pair of glossy black Ray Bans. You shake your head.

“Great.”

You make your way to a tiny boat before he helps you settle in. You grab his hand softly as you step into it. A single touch of electricity seems to link your fingertips. It catches you both so off guard that he lets go of you so swiftly, you don’t even notice as you plunge into the water.

You let out a quick yelp before you go underwater and his hands fly to his head in embarrassment. You resurface with wet hair covering your face.

“Oh my God, I am so sorry!” he apologizes before extending his arm out for you to grab. Pushing your hair out of your face, you giggle.

“It’s okay, I got it.”

Once you independently get on the boat, he unties the rope off the deck and takes a seat himself to drive you both to the unknown destination.

“Pretty please, can I know now where we’re going?” you squeal with puppy eyes.

Lord help me, he thinks before replying. “We’re going to a little island I love. Îles de Lérins.” You look ahead, nodding patiently. “It’s beautiful, you’ll see.”

When you arrive it’s easy to understand that there doesn’t seem to be that many people. You basically have the place to yourselves.

He helps you off, not dropping you this time. There’s a small trail you both begin to take. It’s something peaceful, the moment you’re in. You almost wish to fit it into a snow globe.

“My parents would always bring my brothers and I here all the time during summer when we were younger,” Charles confesses.

“You have brothers?”

He turns to look at you, then continues ahead. “Yes. Two.” He kicks a rock out of his way, but something you didn’t know was just how clumsy this man child could be.

“Ouch!” you groan in pain as your hand flies up to your nose.

“Jesus! What’s wrong with me today? Are you okay? I’m so sorry!” He runs to you all panicky now.

You take it back. Break the goddamn snow globe.

You try tilting your head back to ease the blood pouring out your nose before he gently grips your face to gain your attention. You scrunch your eyes, sun suddenly blinding you. Quickly, he takes off his glasses and places them over your eyes. As you open them you notice he’s shirtless. He places his shirt on your nose to clean you up. You flinch a bit.

Instantly, you’re thankful for the sunglasses because wondering eyes were all you could give him. His lean muscles were just begging to be praised.

You shake your head before taking the Puma shirt from him. “Thanks,” you mutter as you focus on a nearby tree. “Starting to think you might hate me or something.”

“Of course not... I could never hate you!” His voice cracks in nervousness. You snicker.

After a bit more wiping, you are as good as new. You both decide to take a dip while the water feels good. You strip from your Levi shorts and t-shirt. Dipping a toe to test the temperature, you shoot him two thumbs up.

The ocean feels so fresh and silky against your skin. You can’t seem to remember the last time you’ve enjoyed someone’s company like this, even if they almost ruled you to the ends of Earth. Two fingers press against your neck. You spring one eye open and you see Charles biting down on his thumb. He relaxes.

“Sorry, I thought you crossed the line to the afterlife.”

You tread water to stretch your legs out. “I’m fine.”

He takes this time to note things he hadn’t paid attention to before. Like how your lashes pin against your skin since they’re wet. Or how a tiny bit of freckles are sprinkled on your nose. He curses himself for not having seen it any sooner. Pretty was an understatement. You were extraordinary.

A few hours later you guys are back at his house sharing a pizza. Pepperoni, you both loved a classic.

“There’s no bruise,” he points out almost proudly. You shoot a playful scowl. He walks over to the T.V. and clicks the remote. “Monte Carlo?”

He loved it, the way you said he would. He especially enjoyed watching how much you loved it.

“This movie was too ahead of its time,” you confirm as you dig your feet under the blanket you had curled into.

“Well at least Grace and Theo got their happily ever after,” he pronounces. You shoot an impressed look. “What? I was listening.” You crawl up next to him and pat his cheek. His dimples pop out from how hard he’s smiling.

He can’t help it the moment he reaches to cradle your face to press your lips together. He can’t help but let a moan slip out when you finally kiss him back.

Finally, he picks you up to adjust you on his lap, which you comfortably settle into. You feel him underneath you so clearly you can’t help but move your hips. He feels so good.

The heated moment continues as he wraps his hands around the curve of your ass. You pull away as your lips move down to his neck. He almost gasps the moment you lick down his throat. It doesn’t help that you’ve been keeping your hips in motion.

He almost passes out the moment your lips move to his ear and ask, no, beg; Let me taste you, please. How could he ever deny such offer?

Making your way down to your knees, he adjusts himself on the couch. He thinks to himself that if he were standing he would’ve made a fool out of himself because just the sight of you in front of him has him choking on his own breath. You just look so pretty.

You tug his shorts down, along with his boxers, and bite down on your lip as you grab his cock, softly. He has to stop himself from jerking into your hand. Precum sprouting from his tip. You can’t wait as you take kitten licks. Fuck, he whimpers. The sound of his voice makes you squeeze your thighs together.

Wrapping your lips around him, your hands reach to balance yourself against his thighs. You moan at the feeling of having him inside your mouth, drooling all over his lap.

This itself, is too much for Charles and thinks he’ll barely even be able to survive as his head turns against the couch' pillow with closed lids. You start bobbing your head and one hand flings down to jerk off what you can’t reach. He groans at the feeling.

You start off slow but suddenly start picking up your pace. He opens his eyes, dazed, to catch a glimpse of you on your knees and this sight is something he won’t be able to forget even if he tried. With glassy eyes, you look up at him. You make a show of releasing your lips from his cock as you lap your tongue along it. Before going back at it, you twirl your tongue a couple of times around his tip before giving it a quick suck, then deep throat him.

He grits his teeth as if to help deal with any of this but when you start toying with yourself he lets out the loudest whine he’s ever produced. You look up smiling, grazing your teeth lightly along him and he hisses at the feeling. Proudly, you fit him back into your mouth.

“God, your mouth feels so fucking good,” he manages to get out before you solely start jerking him off.

“What about my hands?” you seductively tease. The sounds coming from both your hands and his cock should be considered a sin itself. He groans as he looks back to make eye contact with you.

“Your hands too, baby.”

He knows he’s close the moment you twist your wrist perfectly. So so good. You know he’s close when he begins to twitch underneath your fingertips.

“I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum,” he chants as you continue your dirty movements. He makes sure to look at you, focused, eyes drawn to his cock.

“Cum for me, Charles,” you coo as he finally bucks his hips into your hands and hot cum shoots all over your face. You wickedly smile as your lips reach his cock to continue swallowing the rest that is being released. He grabs you face to pull you off him and hauls you once again onto his lap. He’s about to kiss you before you pull away and point at the mess on your face.

You wipe two fingers along your face and bring them to your mouth to clean them off. A pop is released when you let go. He shudders.

This is the moment, Charles realizes, he’s so screwed.

When you make it back to Italy you realize that all you’ll have are a few fleeting moments together. With Charles going back to racing and you continuing your online classes, you’re both bound to be booked.

Though, Charles just isn’t ready to let you go. And a fucked up man will make fucked up choices when due.

So, he strings you along with him to the Miami GP. He realizes there’s a strong chance you might bump shoulders with Lando, but to be completely honest, he was past caring. He was completely smitten with you.

You wear your white summer dress as you are sprawled on his hotel bed. You’re a mess.

“Shit, shit, shit,” you whimper as Charles fingers slip in and out of you. He’s feverishly kissing down the side of your thighs, bites left in between. You groan in slight pain as you tug on his soft hair. This man has brought out the moon and stars, for you.

“C’mon baby, look at me,” he whispers as he paints you with hickeys in between your legs. Somewhere no one else will ever be able to catch a glimpse of. You nod your head as you look down to find him gripping your dress over your thighs, eating you out like a starved man. You shut your eyes as you release a few soft pants, the heels of your feet press deeper against his Ferrari polo.

“Open you’re eyes.”

You shake your head. You wish you could look at him, you really wanted to, but it’s just too much take in. You wanted to make this last.

But Charles was greedy. He wanted to taste you. He stops everything all at once. You let out a cry. Fuck him.

You bring your arms around his neck, loosely, as he kisses your shoulder. “Why’d you stop?”

“You weren’t looking at me.”

With all your strength you open your glittered eyelids.

“That’s a good girl,” he coos as he picks you up and sits you at the edge of the bed. You look down at him confused as he gets on his knees in front of you.

“If you can’t look at me, then you’re going to have to look at yourself,” he directs as he begins to push your dress back up your waist. You lean against your elbows as you realize what other than Charles is in front of you.

A shiny glass mirror.

With a slightly open mouth you’re about to protest before Charles picks up right where he left off. He spits on your clit before rubbing it. You bite down on your bottom lip so hard, you draw blood.

“Don’t tell me I have to get you to moan now?” Charles stares at you with furrowed brows. You shake your head no before he kisses your knee. “Good.”

He makes sure you look straight at your reflection before he curls his fingers inside of you. You mewl at the touch. Your legs beg to bring him closer.

He lets out a light chuckle before repeating his motion. With sleepy eyes, you stare at the way your legs rest against his shoulders. You had painted your nails bloody mary a few nights before, in support of him and his team. Your face all fucked up singly by Charles’ long fingers and delicate touch, red lipstick all over your mouth from how heavy your make out with Charles had been.

To him, you looked like an angel.

You squeal as he presses his nose against your pussy. You grind against his face. He pulls away and you whine, looking at him desperately.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. You’re okay,” he reassures you as he moves up to kiss your cheek and then your pouty lips.

“Cha, please,” you beg hopelessly. He grins as he pushes your hair out of your face and runs his thumb across your lips trying to clean you up a bit.

You take a chance and wrap your lips around his finger, and you begin to suck. Expertly, you swirl your tongue. Eyes look back at him, almost challenging. He lets out a strained groan.

With all the willpower he has left, he removes his finger from your mouth. Nicely wet, he presses it back where you needed him the most.

“Thank you, baby, you shouldn’t have.” You cry out at the sudden size of his thumb now being inside of you. He switches out his thumb for his middle and ring finger. You throw your head back. All the back and forth almost has you blacking out a few times. Charles gives you a quick peck, fingers building speed, as he pulls your dress down a bit to release your plump tits.

Now he’s at a loss for words. Quickly, he regains his composure and starts sucking on your left nipple, legs squeezing around his waist as a reflex. One hand flies to the back of his head as one makes its way to cup his cheek adoringly.

He moans against you, sucking hard before moving his attention to your right nipple. The way you’re wailing against him has him painfully hard against his jeans.

“Yes, God yes right there, Charlie,” you let out as you grind against his hand. He detaches his lips from your chest as he smiles up at you.

“I’m right here, baby. Cum for me, yeah?” You let out the most pornographic moan as you finish around his hand. Tears make their way down your cheeks. Cleans his fingers, he shuts his eyes satisfied, before he towers over your body, pressing kisses all over.

You giggle. “That tickles." The 25 year old’s heart doubles in size at the sound of your fucked out voice.

“Why don’t we get you cleaned up before the race?”

The race results weren't the best Charles has had, that’s for sure. Head hung, he makes his way to his motorhome. There he finds you on the tiny little bed, curled up, watching the rest of the ongoing interviews. As soon as you notice him you jump up to your feet and walk to him.

It's almost as if you knew how down he was feeling when you wrap your arms around his waist and pressing your face against his chest. He instantly feels better as his arms swaddle over your shoulders, chin atop your pretty hair.

“You did good,” you mumble. You press a faint kiss on his suit before looking up.

“I fucked up. I got P7.”

You frown at him before holding his face between your soft palms. “P7 is good, what do you mean?” He just shakes his head. “You’ve never heard of seven being a lucky number?”

He scoffs, but not at you, never you. More at himself. “Lucky?”

You pull away and sit back on his bed. “Oh yeah, seven bring all the luck in the world!” you squeal, as you plop on the bed. He laughs lightly as he lies beside you.

“Guess I’ll just take your word for it.” He hums with his eyes closed.

You turn on your side as you try to memorize his face. Like the small mole that sits on the left side of his face that makes him even more handsome, if anyone asks for your opinion. You scold yourself for not having noticed it before. As if to fix things, you name it one of your favorite things about him.

“You should. Things will get better, you’ll see.”

For once, he really believes it.

You both are walking out of the Ferrari home when you're suddenly stopped by someone calling Charles’ name.

“Hey, Charles! Great race man!” A familiar voice rings through the air before you both have a chance to turn around. Both you and Charles, unknowingly of one another, want to make a run for it.

“Thanks, Lando,” Charles replies as he prays he might not notice you. But a girl as beautiful as you can’t go forgotten.

“Holy shit it’s you!” Lando wails as he instantly recognizes you from dinner a few months ago. You cringe. What the chances?

“Hi,” you squeak as you hide behind Charles a bit. You had no idea Lando was a Formula 1 driver too. You ought to do your research better next time.

“Mate! This is the chick I was telling you about over dinner last time!” Lando says, eyes almost popping out of his face from the shock he’s in.

“You don’t sayyyy.” Charles tries to hide it, though inside he’s freaking out as if he’s broken every FIA rule in the book.

“Hey, I want to say sorry for that night, I should have been more clear,” Lando begins to spill his apologies, as all you can do is silently stand there, accepting them all.

“Of course. Long forgotten,” you comfort the Brit. He’s actually a pretty sweet guy.

“Charles, I’ll wait for you outside, alright?” you utter as he nods. Once you walk out, he turns to Lando frantically.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know that was the same girl you were upset about!” he tells him. Liar. “You must be mad at me and I get it-”

“Nope.”

Charles stares back, caught off guard by Lando’s response.

“You’re not?”

Lando rolls his eyes. “I’m not. I just hope you realize what she’s capable of.” He leans in closer to Charles’ ear and Charles leans in too, expectantly. “I’ve heard stories, man…”

Charles immediately pulls away. “Okay, we’re done here. Bye mate!”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you!”

But Charles knew you better. He saw the way you looked at him. The way you felt. You were different. Fuck your following reputation.

“Ready?”

When you got back from Miami, something had shifted. He couldn’t quite name the moment it had, but he was sure of it. He didn’t care though. He would put up with just about anything as long as that meant having you around.

“And then he told me to test the car again, said it was fixed. Fixed my ass!” Charles tells you over FaceTime. You were sitting in your bedroom, painting nonsense on a canvas. You wore some old overalls with loose space buns. Strands of hair would hit the paint from how messy it was.

“No way,” you say, not looking up. Charles smiles fondly.

“You look lovely by the way.” Though, you don’t seem to catch his affirmation for you. Your eyes are focused on something out of frame, in front of you. A quick smirk appears on your face but slips so fast that he almost begins to think he’s imagined it.

“Thank you, Charles,” you reply with a much bigger smile now. “Hey, how about I meet you at your house at 9? I’ll cook you a nice meal, promise.”

Like always, he knows he shouldn’t ask and also knows he can’t say no to you.

“I’ll be waiting.”

That night when you step into his house he notices things he wishes weren’t there. Like how your hair was a tad bit messy or how there were light bruises on your neck. He knows those didn’t come from him. He’d always been mindful to mark you in places no one else could admire, just him. Something bugs him knowing someone has seen them already.

“I’m so sorry I’m late." You rush in with bags from the nearby market, the one just around the corner from his flat.

“No worries. So, what will we be cooking, my little chef?”

That night you seem so infatuated by him, he truly thinks this all was his imagination. Maybe the wind blew your hair on your way here; he should have offered to pick you up. Maybe he forgot he had also marked your neck; he’ll make sure to be more careful next time.

He wraps his arms around your waist as you cut pieces of basil. Giggling, you turn around to peck his lips. Craving more from you, he lifts you up onto the kitchen island. He stands in between your legs as you stare up at him, ever a vixen.

As you lock lips, he picks you up, you yelp all giddy. He makes his way over to his bedroom, your lips lingering on his neck, he almost drops you from how good it feels.

“Careful, don’t need another wack in the face,” you mumble from his neck, light spirited. He rolls his eyes at your comment, but yeah, he should probably focus.

Finally reaching his room, he kicks the door open so hard, it flies and instantly makes a hole through the wall. You gasp as he groans.

“Fuck it, it’s fine,” he murmurs as he takes you to his bed where he drops you. You giggle as your hair covers your face, he makes his way to hover over you and brush it away.

“You know I would do anything for you?” he asks, tenderness lacing his voice.

You stare back at him with bright and eager eyes. “Yeah. I know.”

He smiles as he leans down to kiss you and you instantly melt into the mattress beneath you. He kisses you so fast, so hot, that it has you feeling lightheaded. I’ve been kissed before but never, ever, like this, you think as he slips his tongue as a quick trick. You moan with pleasure. He smiles into the kiss.

He picks his head up to get a good look at the angel the universe had ever so nicely sent his way. He caresses you gingerly. “Are you sure, chérie?”

You nod up and down eagerly, ready for more he’s willing to give. You are so desperate you would gladly take anything as long as it's from him. A flash of sadness strikes your face before it’s replaced with a warm smile.

“We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to,” he comforts you as he begins to take a step back. You quickly hold onto his veiny arm.

“I want to,” you confirm. You bring him back to you as you kiss him for the millionth time that night. Even that would never be enough.

His hands make their way to slip your dress off. Once you're left in your matching lingerie, you push him on his back and straddle him.

“Holy shit,” he nervously laughs as you started to unbutton his linen shirt. He pulls his arm out as you sloppily brush your lips down his smooth chest, fingers tracing his firm abs. Then, as you’re about to pull his pants down, he grabs your hands firmly. You glance at him, confusion written all over your face.

“Ladies first,” he teases. You roll your eyes, but still slip out a quick, okay, before settling under him once again. He kisses down your neck gently as you hum out, finding peace with his lips hovering your body. Every new kiss he places on your soft skin makes you feel thousands of butterflies. You’d never experienced something like this before, you’ve never felt so flawless.

Clumsy fingers roam your back as he unclips your bra then strips you from your panties. Seeing you completely bare has his dumbstruck. This is something he could easily get used to.

His hands make their way to squeeze your tits, your head digs deeper into the mattress as you release a soft whimpers. Charles grows harder by the second, already getting rid of the rest of his clothes as quickly as he can.

He tugs you closer to him by your legs. A laugh rolls past your lips. Resting both arms by either side of your head, he pushes into you. Synchronously, you both let out a moan. You dig your nails into his shoulder as he grips onto the sheets.

You feel so tight around him that it takes all of him not to lose control. You throw your arm over your face, face scrunched.

Putting his feelings aside, Charles leans down and plants a kiss on your arm. “C’mon baby, not again. Look at me.”

“I can’t…,” you cry out weakly, “...too big.”

“You just have to adjust,” he reassures you as he begins to move in and out of you. Your arms fly up to his neck and you grab on tight, as if he’s keeping you ashore. You moan loudly.

“That’s it, baby,” he whispers as he thrusts deep inside of you. Your velvety walls feel like home to him and he never wants to leave.

You squirm when his cock hits your sweet spot. You yell into the nothingness and your grip on his hair tightens so much, he groans at the sensation. His hips pick up speed, and suddenly, he’s kissing you again. You whine into his lips, needy for more. Harder.

As if he could read your mind, that's exactly what he does. Your lips form a silent O as you stare at him with eyebrows drawn together. He just feel so fucking good.

“Fuck baby,” he groans, voice deep. You shiver at the sound. “God, you feel so good, you’re doing so good,” he praises you as he now looks into your eyes. You wail in response, too fucked up to form any kind of sentence.

“I love you so much,” he announces so suddenly, you almost push him away. He keeps moving rapidly as he makes out with you eagerly.

As you kiss him back you realize something scary; you love Charles Leclerc. You think you’ve loved him for a while now, but having never been in love, you didn’t seem to notice the feeling. But you do now.

“I love you, too,” you murmur against his lips. When he pulls away you notice you’ve never seen him smile so big. You like being the reason behind it.

He immediately pounds into you harder, not holding back anymore and you’re both a mess. You moan so loud, you’re almost embarrassed but Charles seems to love it.

“If you love me,” he pants, “then tell me his name.”

He continues normally, but you swear you feel your heart stop. There’s no way.

“What are you talking about?” you manage to spit out, but the way he’s handling your body has you seeing stars.

“Please,” a desperate look flashes across his face, “just tell me his name.” His watch covered hand makes its way to your clit and he pushes his finger against it. God, his fingers are so-

“There’s no one.” Liar. “There’s just you.”

With that, you flip him over so now you’re on top of him. Hastily, you start to ride him, making sure to move your hips just the way he likes it. His head falls back against the bed frame as his fingers dig into your hips. You bite your swollen lips in slight pain, but also, just by looking at his current state.

Cheeks slightly pink with sweaty hair covering his face. Long disheveled hair that you pressed him not to trim quite yet. What a sight for sore eyes.

“Please,” he chokes out, “just tell me his name and I swear I’ll never bring it up again.” He opens his eyes to look up at you. His voice hitches when he sees you hopping on his dick, tits bouncing up and down. You throw your head back and circle your hips much harder.

“Fuck.” Charles gasps as he reaches up to attach his lips to your chest. He licks before softly biting down against your bud. You exhale sharply. He then lays back and holds onto your hips harder before helping you move on top of him. Wrapped around him, the motion between both of you picks up so fast you start shaking your head no.

“Yes, amour, say it. Please just tell me before I lose my fucking mind,” he grunts as he stares down at your juices as they make the filthiest sound against his own.

“I swear Charles, I promise, that I have never loved anyone the way I do you,” you confess as you sink your nails against his chest, red marks instantly mapping themselves down.

“Beautiful fucking liar.” Charles smirks as he moves his fingers against your clit rapidly. With that, your walls clench around him as you cum so hard around him he can’t help but follow. You moan loudly as you fall against his chest as he groans lowly.

Trying to even your breathing, you grab onto his hand. Instantly, he brings it up against his lips. Just the touch of his makes you want to ride him until you can’t no more.

You meant what you said that night. Though you both should have known better. Being naive can’t always last forever.

“Then she left a note saying it’s best we just remain friends,” Charles reveals a few nights later over dinner. Everyone shares glances of empathy to the distraught Monegasque. Even Lando.

“It’s alright man, you’ll be over her before you know it,” Lando states as he shares a knowing smile. Charles bites down on his tongue knowing all this pent of anger wasn’t towards Lando. Not even for you.

He would like to say that he learned his lesson and that he should have listened to everyone, all the warning signs that glowed above his head. But he knows damn well he would do it all over again if given the chance. He would say, do anything, to change your mind. To make you stay, but people like you never settled.

Moping, Charles changes the topic as he begins asking how everyone’s break was. He didn’t really care, but he tried to pretend.

Out of breath, Oscar rushes over to the table. “Sorry I’m late,” he says as he sits down in between Lando and Charles.

“No worries, mate, Charles was just filling us in on his expired love life,” Daniel fills in, nonchalantly. Charles immediately shoots a dry frown. Daniel shares an apologetic shrug.

“Oh. That sucks man,” the young Australian replies as he gulps down some water. “Speaking of love lives, you guys won’t believe it! I just met the prettiest girl of my entire life just now outside of the restaurant!”

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc #f1 x reader #f1 #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc imagines #f1 imagine

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arieslost · 1 month

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i have an oscar thot 😋

imagine oscar fucking reader in front of a mirror as "punishment" for being a tease all day and he's being all "look at the mess you're making of yourself", maybe a little overstim 🤭🤭

(ignore this if it's a bit much i'm just feeling self indulgent rn, maybe it's that new photoshoot lmao)

anon this was delicious. thank u for sending this in, i went feral for this and wrote it all in one sitting at midnight so i hope it’s good 😩

18+ content (smut & one instance of choking) under the cut, MDNI!!

mirror | op81

you knew exactly what you were doing. every teasing touch, whether to your boyfriend’s biceps encased in his suit jacket or up the expanse of his thighs under the table, was calculated; a means to an end that would hopefully leave you gasping for air at the end of the night. yet when oscar finally grabs your arm and drags you to the car, your heart still begins to race.

he keeps his grip on you all the way home, all the way through the door, all the way down the hall to the bedroom. you’re quick to sit on the bed, leaning back on your hands and pushing your chest forward to entice oscar more than you know you already have.

you expect him to stalk towards you, rip your clothes off, and do whatever he pleases with you. it’s what you want; you know it, and he certainly knows it. instead, he takes his time closing the distance to you. he takes far too long to turn on the bedside lamp, giving you a coy smile the whole time. he takes his time maneuvering himself between your legs and cupping your face in his hands before leaning down and placing a searing kiss on your lips that only escalates as he reaches behind you to unzip your dress.

he gets you naked with practiced ease, shedding his jacket and white button up as you make yourself comfortable against the pillows and let your eyes slide over every inch of his newly exposed skin like you’ve never seen him naked before. he completely bypasses your lips when he joins you on the bed, moving directly to your neck, lightly biting and sucking marks into your delicate skin.

the only warning sign of your impending punishment goes mostly unnoticed— you go to put your hands in his hair, and he doesn’t let you. he disguises it well, though; he simply laces your fingers with his own as his lips continue their downward descent before finally reaching their destination between your legs. that thoroughly distracts you, and he knows your body so well that he has you on the edge before you can comprehend the fact that he’s being so nice to you.

“oscar, ‘m close, don’t stop—” you’re saying, and then he’s doing the exact opposite, retracting himself from you entirely.

he’s being so surprisingly romantic about this that when he’s gone, your eyes fly open to stare at him in disbelief. he simply licks his lips and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand before fixing you with a look of faux sympathy.

“oh, i’m sorry, did you think you were getting rewarded for the shit you were pulling all night?”

there it is.

your breath gets caught in your throat as he stands up and walks to the corner of the room where your full length mirror that you always use for fit checks stands. he picks it up and places it against the wall directly across from the bed before he turns his attention back to you. “cat got your tongue, honey?”

“i- i’m—”

“don’t waste my time. hands and knees facing the mirror, now.”

you bite your lip, heart knocking against your chest in anticipation. he’s never fucked you in front of a mirror before, and while you’d rather look at him than yourself, that’s how you know that your mission was successful.

you situate yourself on all fours like he told you, looking down at the way your hands are spread over the duvet as he gets back on the bed behind you, hands sliding down your back and over your ass.

“think you can just get away with being such a tease?” when you don’t answer, he reaches up to fist your hair and tugs harshly. “answer, or i’m going to leave you here all needy and desperate.”

“no, don’t wanna get away with it.” you say immediately, and he scoffs.

“oh, i see. so you want to be punished.” you try to nod, and he pulls your hair again. “god, you’re such a brat.”

“‘m your brat, though,” is all you can think to say, and luckily he seems to like that because he loosens his grip on your hair and leans down to press a kiss between your shoulder blades.

“fuck yeah, you are. now pick your head up.” he instructs, pointing towards your reflections in the mirror. “i don’t want you looking anywhere but right there. if you look down once, i’m stopping. got it?”

“yes,” you reply, pushing yourself back against him. “please, oscar—”

“behave,” he warns, before he’s pushing into you without any notice and your mind just goes completely blank.

you almost look down immediately, nearly unable to keep your eyes on the mirror when he feels so good inside of you and you finally have what you wanted since you saw him looking nothing short of tantalizing in his suit. neither of you have ever been fans of all the fancy events, but you’d happily go to a million more if the night always ends like this.

oscar doesn’t hold back at all, immediately setting a blistering pace that has you gripping the sheets even harder than you already were. you chance a look at him in the mirror, and you can’t hold back the moan that escapes you when you see how good he looks behind you. the longer strands of hair sticking to his forehead, the slight flush of his cheeks and chest from exertion, the way his eyes meet yours in the mirror and a breathless laugh escapes him when you tell him you’re close again.

“go ahead, baby, let go f’me.” he says, and you do with a cry of his name, fighting against your instincts to collapse as your legs shake and his hips slow, helping you ride it out.

but this is still a punishment, so he only gives you a few moments reprieve before picking right back up, making you yelp.

“no, no, too sensitive, please,” you manage to say, and he reaches forward to wrap a hand around your throat and pull you up so your back is flush against his chest.

“what did you say?” he asks, and when you open your mouth to respond his hand tightens just enough that you can still breathe, but you can’t get words out. “that’s what i thought. just take it and keep your eyes on the mirror.”

you obey silently, wishing that you weren’t blocking him now because he looks beautiful even when he’s disheveled like this and you… well, you look like a complete disaster. oscar seems to come to the same conclusion, because he keeps talking, lips brushing against your ear as he continues to rail you within an inch of your life.

“look at the mess you’re making of yourself,” he whispers, free hand snaking down your front and slipping between your legs. “what happened to my pristine, put together girl from earlier, huh? posing so prettily for all those pictures. now look at you.”

letting out a whimper at his words, you have no choice but to look. you’ve never watched yourself get fucked, but you know you’ve never looked this out of it before. your vision is blurry from tears of pleasure, but you can see the mascara running down your cheeks. your hair is a mess from oscar grabbing it, and your jaw is completely slack. you bring a hand up to curl around his wrist so he doesn’t let go of your throat. if he wasn’t holding on to you, you’d be face down and too out of it to care about his threat of stopping.

and maybe you like having his hand there too.

“oscar,” you say, voice hoarse from his grip. “i-i think i’m—”

“fuck, i feel it.” he grits out when you clench around him. “you can give me one more, yeah?”

“mhmm, for you,” you moan out, head falling back against his shoulder.

he doesn’t even care, a higher pitched moan escaping his mouth that tells you he’s not going to last much longer. “that’s right, all for me, all mine. my little fuckin’ tease.”

his words send you over the edge again, and you feel all your energy leave your body as your second orgasm takes everything out of you and leaves you slumped against his body as he follows suit, falling forward and barely holding himself up above you when you fall limp onto the mattress. you can feel his heavy breaths against the side of your face as he pulls out of you and rolls to the side so he can lay face down as well and get his eyes on you.

he flashes his polite cat smile at you, and you smile back, finding it hard to comprehend that this cutie with the side of his face smushed against the mattress is the same guy that just had you seeing stars mere seconds ago.

“still with me, honey?” he asks softly, reaching out and running his fingers down your spine.

you shiver at his touch, nodding slowly. “the mirror?”

he has the audacity to blush. “caught my eye when we first came in here and i went with it.”

you touch his flushed cheek, brushing his hair out of his face. “i should tease you more often.”

he tries to give you a menacing look, but with half his face squished it doesn’t work very well. you both dissolve into giggles, and as he kisses you softly, you start thinking about what you can do next time to make him get the mirror again.

word count: 1,611

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note: i apologize for nothing unless there’s something poorly written here because by the time i finished writing it i was at a reasonable level of delirium. n e ways…

requests are OPEN, and my inbox is always open for comments, criticism, and conversation! feel free to pop in!

reblogs are always appreciated <33

dividers by @/saradika

tags: @venusacrossthestars @67-angelofthelordme-67 @emails-i-can-send @nelly187 @cixrosie @fangirl-dot-com @sainzluvrr @imheretoread @mellowarcadefun @yourbane @monsieurbacteria6 @c-losur3 @papayatori @ssprayberrythings @namgification @maih23 @evlkking @witchycarmen @ilovethispookie @maxverstappenfan79 @sya-skies @sweatrevenge5436-blog @kimis-gloves @mia-rrrs @decafmickey @customsbyjcg-blog @bigheartsthings @tania2748

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borathae · 2 months

Text

↳ Index [Snippet #47 - Quiet]

"When you and Jungkook have to be quiet because you are at his parents' house."

Genre: married life!AU, Slice of Life Fluff, Smut

Warnings: toothrotting fluff, so much domestic loveliness, they're so married y'all, they're so annoying <3, sharing of his small childhood bed, a very mild fight about how little space they have (it's more marital bickering), naked cuddling, Koo gets horny from it, switch!Kook, switch!reader, he is so hot besties, like he such a safe Dom omfg, also a total cutie once he gets subby, good girl kink, good boy kink, having to stay quiet, making out, needy touches, nipple & breast sucking, nipple play, finger sucking, gentle choking (m.receiving), Koo has sensitive nipples, hair pulling, oral (f.receiving), pussy fingering, tiny spit kink, multiple orgasms (f.receiving), he treats her so well after making her cum with his mouth, the smallest strength kink, cowgirl position where he is sitting, loving dirty talk, he cries cause he loves her so much!, he keeps that he loves her as she rides him <3, creampies, some cute lil mess ups during sex <3, sweet aftercare, this is so wholesome and hot and cute, they're in love :(

Wordcount: 9.2k

a/n: this is inspired by anonie's idea 🧡 i'm so fucking obsessed with this couple and most importantly, with this Kook. you guys have no idea how much FUN i always have when i write for them :8 he is such a cutie and i need my future husband to be like him istfg have fun besties ily 🧡

You and Jungkook normally book a hotel room close by when you visit his parents. It is easier and more comfortable that way. However, this time around, the visit was quite spontaneous and your go-to-hotel was fully booked.

“No worries, you can stay with us”, his father assured you on the phone before calling over his wife to talk as well.

“Just tell us what you’ll eat for breakfast and I’ll pop right down to the store to get it”, she instantly said and then proceeded to ask if you and Jungkook were eating enough (you assured her that you were).

And so you agreed. Just a little shy about it, you agreed.

Jungkook’s childhood home was small yet homely. It was located at the border of where country life meets suburban life. A grocery store, drugstore and hardware store were close by, as well as the hotel you always stay at. The roads were well taken care of, but were never busy enough to be of annoyance volume-wise. The neighbours were also very nice and welcoming. The house had a good garden surrounding it and a shed his father uses as his man cave where he always works on his cars and bikes. There was only one floor and Jungkook’s bedroom was closest to the bathroom and office. His parents’ bedroom was on the opposite side of the hallway two doors down.

They welcomed you with loud voices and happy smiles, taking their son into their arms as tightly as they could.

They weren’t good parents when he was young, but you can see that they are really trying these days. You like that. He might not have had parents in his childhood, but at least in his adulthood he can.

They even sat down with him and apologised, which not many parents ever do. You know that it meant the world to Jungkook even if he always pretended that he didn't need his parents. Deep down, everyone needs their parents. So to know that your Jungkookie could hear the apology he needed and witness their growth really means the world to you. He deserves it, your love.

Like always, his mother drags you inside for food after hugging you as well. She chats and babbles excitedly, holding you and Jungkook by your arms. She is walking with a skip in her steps, looking oh so happy to have you with them. His father follows with the suitcases.

You left Bam with your parents for the weekend because the drive would have been too long for him. He will be happy and well taken care of, so you don’t worry too much.

Not that this stops his parents from asking for all the updates and pictures. For the majority of dinner, you have to tell them everything about Bam with pictures included of course. It meant a lot to you because Bam feels like your baby to you.

One thing you really like about his parents (and yours) is how they never pressured you to have children. They asked of course and tried to change your minds a few times, but when they finally realised that you and Jungkook truly don’t want to have children, they accepted it without any sort of retaliation. These days, they treat Bam like their grandson, cooing about your little fur baby as if it was your real son.

The hours after dinner are spent taking walks in the nearby forest and exchanging life stories and laughter. After the walk, Jungkook’s dad kidnaps him to the shed so they could tinker on bikes together, while his mother asks if you wanted to knit. You agreed and so you sat on the back porch in your rocking chairs as you each knitted something for your husbands.

The sun has already set when Jungkook and his dad join you as well.

“What are you making?” Jungkook asks, caressing the crown of your head.

“I don’t know. I tried making a bunny, but it looks like roadkill. It’s supposed to be for you, but it’s ugly. Sorry.”

Jungkook laughs, leaning down to peck your cheek.

“It’s not ugly. It’s unique. Thank you, my love”, he says and looks at his mom, “what are you making, eomma?”

“Just a scarf for appa. He is always cold in winter.”

“I am. It’s because winter is cold.”

She laughs. He grins.

He looks a little like Jungkook when he grins like that. It kind of makes sense that Jungkook is always trying to make you laugh. He must have learned from his father, because that man constantly tries to crack jokes to get his wife to laugh. It works most of the times.

“Oh jagi, you are too silly”, she says and stands up, “is it time for the bath already?”

“It is. Do you want wine?”

“Yes, that would be wonderful.”

They are conversing as they leave for inside. Apparently his parents share baths most nights.

Jungkook sits down on his mother’s rocking chair, running his eyes over the view.

“Did you have a good time with your dad?”

“Yeah. I did.”

“That’s good to hear.”

“Did you have a good time with eomma too?”

Jungkook grew up bilingual. So he told you very early in your relationship and that he is fluent in both languages, just as his parents are. When Jungkook is alone with his parents, he speaks Korean with them. When you are with them as well, they switch into your shared language so you wouldn’t feel left out. Small phrases and words still transcend languages however. You think that it is wonderful.

“I did have fun yeah. Except for my roadkill bunny.”

Jungkook laughs, “it doesn’t even look that bad. I don’t know what you’re on about.”

“Yeah, I guess. I don’t know, knitting’s hard.”

“Yeah, I never figured it out. Stuff’s too complicated”, Jungkook says and sighs deeply, sinking deeper into the chair, “yeah, that’s the good life. Crickets, a chilly night, the smell of hay and my beautiful wifey by my side.”

“You’re so sweet.”

“Mhm”, he hums, “wanna have a beer?”

“No thank you. I’m not in the mood for alcohol.”

“Okay, yeah I’m not taking one either then.”

“You can if you want to. I’m not stopping you.”

“No, no I’m good. I only would have taken one if you did. But it’s good, I’ve got everything I need right now”, he says and stretches his legs out.

You and Jungkook stay outside until it is time to say goodnight. His parents are in their bedroom watching telly when you and Jungkook officially go back inside.

Jungkook knocks on their doorframe.

They look at him and you standing in the door.

“Yes?”

“We’re gonna go to sleep now. Good night, eomma and appa”, Jungkook says.

“Good night, my son”, his father says.

“Sleep tight, my boy”, his mother says, “and you too, my daughter.”

“Thank you, sleep tight eomma and appa”, you say to which his father tells you to have a good night.

“I’m closing your door already, yeah?” Jungkook says.

“Thank you.”

The door closes with a soft click. Jungkook looks at you and smiles, placing his arm around your waist so he can pull you in for a temple kiss.

“It means a lot that you call them like this.”

“You’re sweet, my love”, you say and lean into him.

“I’m serious. I don’t have a lot of connection to my parents’ heritage, but it’s the little stuff like calling them eomma and appa or sharing traditional food which means a lot to me. I feel really loved by you when you participate as well.”

You smile, stealing a kiss.

“I love you, you know?”

“I love you too”, Jungkook says and kisses your cheek, “also, I’m calling dips on the bathroom. Bye”, he says quickly and runs off.

“Hey, not cool. I wasn’t ready”, you call after him, but he merely snickers and disappears in the bathroom.

You wait in the living room for him to finish, watching some random show on the telly. It’s a stupid show, but still entertaining. You even find yourself snickering at some parts.

“Sweetie, the bathroom’s free now”, Jungkook announces himself once he finished his night routine. He is currently walking to the water dispenser on the kitchen counter for a glass of water.

“Nice. Finally”, you say, turning off the show to hurry to the bathroom as well.

He left the door closed so you would have it toasty. He really loves you, doesn’t he? He hates leaving the door closed because of potential mould, but for you he did. You would marry this man again and again if it was legally possible.

He isn’t in the living room once you finish your night routine and his closed bedroom door lets you know that he is already cozied up there.

After getting yourself a glass of water as well, you go to the bedroom.

You close the door and lock it. Jungkook is looking at you over the brim of his glasses, cocking his brow up in question.

“I feel better like this. At least we have a little bit of privacy this way”, you explain.

He nods in acknowledgement and looks back into his phone.

You love how the bedside lamp illuminates his features. He is such a beautiful person.

“You’re so handsome, my sweetheart”, you tell him, watching in delight as his face lights up.

“Thanks yeah”, he murmurs, wiggling his feet under the blanket.

Now feeling good, you make your way to his childhood bed. This weekend is going to be very interesting. Because it is a bed once meant to house a small preteen Jungkook, it is sized accordingly. It is going to be very interesting to share it now that you were both grown adults. You can already feel all his sleep flinching and your sleep twitches annoying the shit out of the other.

You climb over Jungkook. He lifts his arms and watches you with confusion as you scramble over his lap.

“What are you doing?”

“I want the wall side”, you say and grunt as you try to wiggle yourself into the small gap.

Jungkook scoots over a little. Groggily if one may add that little fact.

“Yeah sure, so you can kick me out of bed in your sleep”, he complains.

“I’m not gonna kick you out. I’m a plank once I sleep, you know that.”

“No you’re not. You twitch and kick your feet.”

“Only sometimes.”

“Still. Hey, stop that. You already have enough space. I only have a third left now. That’s unfair.”

“Lies. We’re equal”, you throw back and flip to your side so you are facing him. Your back is squished against the wall. It feels cold even through your pyjamas. You don’t mind because his room is very hot and his blanket very thick.

“Tch, whatever”, Jungkook murmurs and looks back into his phone. He looks a little annoyed, but won’t act on it.

But because you were feeling like a little shit, you want to annoy him more. You poke your finger into his side.

He writhes away, pressing out a quiet “stop that.”

You do it again.

“Stop”, he whines loudly.

One last time.

Jungkook drops the phone in the blanket and looks at you.

“Stop it”, his voice is raised in pitch, his lips pouty, “it hurts, don’t do that.”

“It hurts, really?” you snicker.

“Yeah, it’s uncomfy”, he mumbles, rubbing the spot you poked.

One more time.

“Stop it”, he grabs your wrist gently, “why are you being so annoying? Stop it.”

You break into giggles, gazing up at him.

“No, don’t laugh. You’re not funny right now.”

“Gosh, I’m sorry. You looked pokeable.”

“I’m gonna poke you if you do it again”, he murmurs and picks up his phone.

You touch his waist.

“___”, he whines, sagging his shoulders in defeat.

“I wasn’t tryna to do something. I just wanted to caress you”, you whine as well and rub his side softly, “like this.”

“Yeah good. Don’t do the other thing again”, he says and relaxes.

You won’t do it again. Being an annoying little shit is only this fun before it turns into being a bad spouse. You don’t want him to lose trust in you or feel uncomfortable. So you keep rubbing his side as he scrolls on his phone. Soon, you also incorporate his stomach, drawing little circles with your palm and fingertips.

“What are you looking at?” you ask him.

Jungkook flips the phone so you could see it.

“Just funny videos. That one’s not funny, but look at that”, he switches to his likes and shows you a video of two cats fighting. There are speech bubbles appearing on screen as if the cats were talking to each other. They contain silly and funny one liners which are exactly Jungkook’s humour.

He is snickering and laughing as he shows you the video, pointing out the funniest parts by going “and now look at this” before following it up with a laugh.

You have to laugh right with him. Soon you find yourself resting your head on his chest with his arm around you and his fingers scratching your scalp mindlessly as you both look into his phone to watch funny videos. He shows you his likes and together you snicker, laugh at silly stuff or gush over talented people.

You share quality time like this until you both are starting to get sleepy.

“I think I’m gonna pass out now”, you tell him, kissing his chest, “sleep tight, baby.”

“I’m gonna pass out too. The drive really fucked with me”, Jungkook says and places his phone and glasses on the bedside table. He turns off the lamp, then rolls to his side so he could spoon you.

You snuggle back into him, intertwining hands with him.

“It was really exhausting”, you agree, “this is nice by the way. Really snuggly.”

“Mhm yeah, so snuggly”, Jungkook agrees.

This is however, when the interesting part starts to happen. The cuddling is so nice and romantic at first. To be so close and cuddle is wonderful, but then your bodies begin heating up to uncomfortable levels and you can’t do your routine of breaking apart for sleep and the cuddling becomes one annoying thing. Bickering begins. You tell him to move back, while he insists that you could scoot closer to the wall. Jungkook is annoyed about his ass feeling the edge of the mattress and you are annoyed about his hot body boiling yours. Your knees are also hurting in the current position and you can’t move them because there is no space.

“I wanna move. Can you scoot back?” you ask him.

“I can’t, my love. I told you already. I’m literally hanging off the edge already”, Jungkook answers you with a hint of annoyance in his voice.

“Let’s just-”, you wiggle until Jungkook has no choice but to scoot back, “do that. That’s better.”

“No it’s not. I have no space on here”, Jungkook says and scoots closer. His nose is all up in the nape of your neck this way. He is burning you alive. He is so hot, it’s insane.

“God Kook, you’re literally breathing into my fucking spine. Can you not?” you hiss just a little snappishly.

“Excuse me? I need to breathe. You’re all in my face with your stupid pyjama collar. What should I say?” he throws back and flips it with his fingers

“Hey, don’t touch it.”

“Oh my god, I’m not even doing anything”, he says and moves just a little which ends in you accidentally knocking into the wall.

“Kook, stop that.”

“What did I do now?”

“You kicked me into the wall.”

“You wanted the wall side. I’m literally just moving, oh my god, I didn’t kick you.”

“Yeah you did. You went like this.”

“Hey, don’t kick me”, he says and pokes your side.

“Hey! Stop that”, you flip onto your side instantly, facing him this way.

Your breaths intermingle. Your noses brush against the other, ripping both of you back to reality enough that you just kind of freeze. The silence exists while you and Jungkook stare at where the other is hidden in darkness.

Suddenly you feel his sigh on your face.

“What are we doing? Why are we fighting?” he asks in a soft spoken voice.

“I don’t know”, you speak softly as well, “I’m sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry. Let’s not fight anymore.”

“Yeah, let’s not fight”, you say and touch his chest, “sorry again.”

“Sorry too.”

“I think I’m so irritated because it’s so hot, I’m literally dying.”

“Same. Fuck, the blanket’s grilling me and my clothes are the devil”, he says and sits up to undress.

“Are you getting naked?”

“Yeah, I can’t do clothes. Seriously.”

“Actually, that’s a good idea. I’m stealing it”, you say and sit up to get naked as well.

You and he throw your clothes onto the floor, getting under the blanket again once naked.

“I’m keeping my ass out tough”, Jungkook says

“Really? Aren’t you scared that something’s gonna poke your hole?”

“Why would something poke my hole randomly?” he is snickering.

“I don’t know. You never know, sleep paralysis demons maybe.”

“I’m sure the demon is hot, so they can poke my hole if they want to.”

You slap his chest softly.

“That’s not funny.”

“Why not?” he is snickering.

“Cause I don’t want you fucking demons.”

“Not even if you could watch? Imagine waking up to me getting railed by a sexy, hot demon.”

“You’re not funny”, you murmur and huff out air.

“Are you jealous?”

“Yes.”

“Aww sweetie, don’t be. It’s just my sleep paralysis demon.”

“God, I regret this stupid joke. Whatever, good night I guess”, you say and turn your back to him.

Jungkook touches your waist instantly, whispering your name.

“What?”

“Don’t be jealous. You’re the only one I want poking my hole.”

You snort. He chuckles.

“Yeah good, whatever I guess.”

Jungkook trails soft kisses up your spine until he can kiss your shoulder. His arm is over your waist again.

“You know that you’re the only one, don’t you?” he whispers.

“Yeah, I do. Still, thank you for saying that”, you say.

Now reassured that you aren’t feeling insecure anymore, Jungkook relaxes into the pillow. His chest is pressed into your back, your butt is snug with his crotch.

“Can you feel my dick like this?”

“I can yeah.”

“Okay, good to know.”

You chuckle, “you’re a goof.”

Silence overcomes you and him afterwards. Sharing the small bed doesn’t feel awful anymore. Truly, getting naked took a lot of that heat away. Quite frankly, now you are glad that he is keeping you warm because the room finally feels chilly.

You could fall asleep like this and you probably would have if Jungkook hadn’t called your attention again.

“___?”

“Mhm?”

“Are you still awake?”

“Yeah, I guess. It’s only been a few.”

“Right yeah. Hey uhm”, he dances his hand over your waist and hip. You know exactly what this touch means, “I’m a little horny.”

“I know, your touch says enough.”

He kneads your thigh.

“Yeah well, you’re naked and soft, so yeah.”

“And we’re in the smallest bed ever.”

“I’ll be careful.”

“Quiet too?”

Jungkook doesn’t have an answer instantly and so you flip to your other side so you were facing him. You run your fingers up and down his pecs, drawing circles around his pierced nipples.

He shivers and shudders like crazy, sighing the softest moan.

“Mhm? Are you gonna manage to be quiet?” you stress.

“Why shouldn’t I?”

“Because I know you. You’re a whiny baby when my wet, soft pussy fucks your cock just right.”

“___, jesus fuck”, he gets out and squirms, pressing his legs together, “don’t say that, I’m gonna leak on the sheets.”

You chuckle, “I’m just stating the obvious. You’re not gonna be able to be quiet. Sorry Kookie, but because of this I can’t give you what you want.”

You flip to your other side, grinning to yourself when Jungkook grabs your hip desperately.

“___ baby…please”, he begs in a breathy voice and his thumb drawing swirls on your skin.

If you were being honest, you had been feeling a little horny yourself before Jungkook confessed. You are very down to mingle, but getting him to beg some more is way too much fun not to do it. He is so delicious when he is desperate.

“Sorry, the risk is too high.”

Jungkook lets out a dramatic little sob, following it up with a whiney “pleaseee” and his cheek rubbing against your shoulder. He is such a cutie.

“You can’t sway me. My decision is final”, you coo, grinning to yourself.

“Please, baby. I’ll be so, so quiet”, he pleads and begins kissing your neck.

It tingles, sending electricity to your core. You press into him, parting your lips in a silent gasp.

“Please baby, please I’ll be quiet”, Jungkook begs between kisses, upping the game by cradling your right breast in his strong hand. He kneads and massages it gently, rubbing his thumb over your nipple every chance he gets.

“Behave, Kook”, you sigh.

Jungkook purrs quietly, flicking his tongue over the piercings on your ear. He makes sure that it brushes your skin as well so you could feel the tongue he could put to good use.

“Please? I’ve been such a good boy today.”

A fond smile curls your lips.

“Have you?”

“Yeah, so good. Such a good boy. I filled up the gas for you when you went to pee, remember?”

“Mhm, I do remember.”

“And I let you squeeze my butt at the red light.”

“You did let me, yeah.”

“I was a good boy, please”, he begs and gives your nipple an especially good massage, “please can I have a reward, please?”

“Fine, fuck you’re too good”, you give up because you can’t deny him when he is hitting you with The Good Boy. He is too powerful and the goodest boy. You couldn’t possibly deny him.

“Thank you, god I’m gonna fuck you so good”, Jungkook says and rolls you to your back as best as the small bed allows.

His tits are pressing into your arm like this. Fuck, they are so huge. All this working out he is doing really pays off because his tits are gorgeous.

Jungkook pecks your lips before paying attention to your jawline instead. He runs his tattooed hand all over your torso and legs, reminding your skin why his touch will always be the best.

You enjoy the attention with closed eyes and your fingers feeling up his tits as best as possible. So squishy and soft when relaxed, but so hard and strong when flexed. Fuck, he could smother you with them and you would thank him.

“You really want this, don’t you? I’m not forcing you?” he makes sure in a whisper and his gentle fingers caressing your waist.

“Yes Kook, I want this. Just wanted to make you work for it.”

“Wah baby, so mean” he gasps.

You snicker.

“No, don’t laugh. Do you have any idea how awful blue balls are? I was fighting for my life and you were just being a tease? Wah so mean.”

You giggle, hooking your fingers behind his neck.

“I wasn’t being mean.”

“Yeah, you were. God, come here you”, he says and begins nibbling on your jawline, “I’ll eat you up, you tease.”

You laugh and squeak, scrunching your face in happiness. It tickles, but in a good way. A tingly way.

Jungkook hums, smiling against your skin. He loves hearing you laugh.

“Such a tease. My baby’s such a fucking tease”, he purrs, moving his lips to the most sensitive part of your neck while his tattooed, strong hand feels up your waist and hips.

You sigh, melting in his hands. You are still hot, but it feels nice. He is getting you all heated up and bothered. You love being like this because of him, breathing heavier because it is so exciting.

“Mhm? You’re a fucking tease. Making me beg and driving me crazy that way. Fuck”, he moans softly, squeezing your thigh. He slides his hand to your inner thigh afterwards, sending electricity through your veins.

You open your legs further, feeling heat pool where you need him most.

“I’m gonna eat you up”, he rasps and takes your earlobe between his teeth to tug on it gently.

“Kook, fuck”, you get out breathily, arching your back.

“And out”, he whispers, “get it? Gonna eat you up and out.”

“That’s not funny”, you whine, but laugh.

“Yeah it is, you’re laughing”, he snickers.

“Cause you’re silly, you goof.”

He smiles and kisses your cheek, pressing himself closer until his semi hard cock rubs against the side of your leg. He humps it slowly, feeling up your inner thighs with more vigor.

“I need you so bad, babygirl. I need you so fucking bad.”

“Take me. Please”, you beg in a sigh, feeling excitement leak out of you. You are aching. You need him to act soon or else you are going to be the one not staying quiet.

Jungkook presses a kiss to your cheek and whispers a needy curse, before finally breaking away from you to disappear under the blanket.

You feel him grab your hips and fix your position, opening your legs willingly. His head is hidden under the blanket, his strong hands hold your hips. His lips kiss down your inner thighs.

“My babygirl, my fucking queen, my everything”, he whispers and finally, fucking finally, you feel his wet, hot tongue against your pussy.

“Kook”, you get out at a normal volume before you remember where you are, “shit, sorry.”

“Ssh quiet, baby”, he is teasing, smiling against you, “you gotta be quiet.”

“Fuck…” you croak and throw your arm over your eyes, “ah, fuck. God, Kook.”

Jungkook chuckles, burying his mouth back in your pussy again to lap up the sweetness you offer him gladly. He purrs and hums, making it even harder for you to stay quiet.

But this is his plan. You want to tease him for being loud? You dare to call him a whiny baby? He is going to show you how easily he can make you struggle with your volume. The only whiney baby is going to be you and he is going to fucking make you shake on his tongue.

“You’ve got the best pussy”, he says and slurps deliciously, “the fucking best. You’re so sweet, so fucking sweet”, he adds between his hungry slurping. He rests two of his fingers against your pussy, wetting them with eager licks as he worships your clit. Once his digits are wet and slickened, he pushes them inside, forcing shakes through your legs.

“Hmhmn”, you let out, trying so so hard to keep your mouth shut. It’s difficult. His fingers are your ruin.

He has the longest fingers ever. You always forget how long they are until you have them inside you to his knuckles with your body feeling as if it is being consumed by electric flames.

“Kook”, you croak, arching your back as your fingers close around a bundle of his hair.

Jungkook purrs against you, flicking his tongue over your clit messily while his long digits fuck your puffy hole. Your walls are throbbing around him, your g-spot is swelling more and more. Jungkook fucks it out of hiding with how good he fingers your pretty pussy. Good. That’s what he wants. He needs you blissed out.

“Like it? You’re shaking”, he lulls against your clit, licking her eagerly afterwards.

“Like it”, you mewl, wiggling on the sheets before deciding to arch your back again.

“Mhhhm baby”, he lets you really feel his purr, taking your clit between his lips to give her a good, long suck. And as he sucks on your bundle of nerves, he drags his slickened tongue over it in languid, long strokes. He is making the slowest love to your clit, while his long fingers fuck your pussy as if anger motivated them.

The contrast is sending you into a frenzy. Out of all the places he could pick to give you the hottest head ever, he chooses his childhood bed. Where you can’t be loud, where you can’t chant his name and where the biggest torture is how you have to hold back. He is driving you fucking mad.

You mewl and keen, sounding so obviously pained by how quiet you have to be.

Jungkook breaks away from your clit with a nasty slurp, reappearing from the blanket as he sits up just a little. He has a plan and he needs to sit for it. He turns his hand palm-way up and begins drilling his digits into you quickly, keeping his fingers curled so they would stroke your sensitive spot every single fucking pump.

“Koo-” you throw your hand over your mouth, whimpering into it loudly as your legs shake out of control.

Your pussy sounds so wet. The fuck is so rough in the best way.

“That’s good, isn’t it?” he taunts, staring into the darkness with blown out pupils. He can feel you shake and squirm. He just knows you are covering your own mouth.

“Mhh mhmh ngmh.”

“Yeah it’s good. Keep staying quiet, baby”, he teases and spits on your pussy. He slips his other hand to it so he could rub your clit with his spit as sinful lube. Quick and skilled. The shakes course through your entire body, he has you fucking burning up.

“Mhm! Ahmgm!” you scream with a closed mouth, arching off the mattress so aggressively his entire bed croaks in protest.

You drop in embarrassment, dragging your hand from your mouth.

“Please stop”, you beg squeakily, grasping his wrist to try and stop him. You can’t, destined to tremble uncontrollably as he ruins you with just his fingers.

“Hurts?”

“No, too hard…stay…quiet pl-please.”

“Who’s the whiny baby now, mhm?”

Your mind scrambles, your legs shake. Fuck, you’re leaking like a fucking faucet on his fingers. He is so mean. It’s getting you off so well.

“You’re so mean”, you mewl and throw your hand over your mouth again to muffle your needy moans.

“The fucking meanest”, Jungkook hisses and lowers his head to your pussy to lick your clit as quickly as his skilled tongue can go. He keeps you spread apart with his fingers so he can reach the best parts. All while he still drills your pussy as if she had a debt to pay.

You grab his hair and twist. Jungkook growls from the tug, furrowing his brows.

“Koo-” is all you get out and then you have to press your hand to your mouth. No more arm over your eyes, you need to silence yourself because Jungkook is making you climax as if you never climaxed before and you could fucking scream.

Jungkook moans into your pussy, keeping his fingers deep inside and moving as you cum all over his pretty face. He had a feeling that your hair grab meant he is making you lose control. Now that it’s his sweet reality, he is hellbent on making it the best fucking experience of your life. That most difficult one as well because he knows for a fact that you want to scream his name, but can’t.

He is so painfully hard because of it. His pretty, perfect wife mewling so painfully tortured just because she can’t scream his name. Jungkook wants to change your life with this orgasm. Holy fuck, he is so into you.

“Stop please”, you soon beg, tugging at his hair in a way that lets him know you’ve had enough.

Jungkook breaks away from your well fucked pussy, kissing his way up your torso. He makes sure to worship every inch of it, using his hands to give you soothing touches. That he spreads your mess this way, neither of you care about.

He finds his home between your legs naturally. The leaky tip of his hard cock rubs over your pussy and lower tummy, but isn’t of importance for now.

Jungkook lingers on your chest a little longer, massaging and kissing your breasts with soft moans at the back of his throat. He sucks and licks your nipples, while between your legs his cock is twitching oh so needily against your tummy.

Jungkook only moves on to worshiping your neck once your nipples are pulsating in sensitivity.

“My good girl”, he whispers, following it up with kisses on each side of your neck. Even your throat he worships, going especially gentle because he knows it’s a vulnerable spot for you.

“Koo”, you sigh, following it up with an exhausted huff of air.

He kisses his way up to your face, adoring every inch of it while his fingers run along your hairline and ears.

“My good, pretty girl”, he whispers sweetly, “how was that, babygirl?”

“Good”, you lull, melting in his safe hands.

“That’s good to hear”, he kisses your heated cheek.

“You were mean.”

He smiles against you, “I was?”

You nod your head, “I wanted to be quiet but you acted like that.”

Jungkook chuckles and kisses your lips mid-smile. He tugs on your lower lip gently, still smiling like a lovedrunk puppy.

“I didn’t even do anything.”

“Yeah, you did. You acted like that on purpose.”

“Mhm”, another slow, obsessed kiss followed with a suck on your lower lip, “had a point to prove.”

“Koo, you’re mean.”

“Mhm yeah”, he agrees and tongue kisses you slowly as his fingers caress your temples. He breaks the kiss with his tongue tracing your lips, “I love your pussy so much. You got me obsessed, babygirl.”

“Mhm Koo…” you mewl and squirm under him happily.

“Fuck.”

Jungkook’s whispered curse swirls against your lips. You know its origin without needing to ask. His cock is so hard, rubbing against your stomach and your squirming made him aware of how unfucked he still is.

“Do you want me to return the favour?”

His cock twitches, his fingers close a little around your face.

“You wanna suck my cock?” his voice trembled as he asked, his lips nib on yours hungrily afterwards.

“Suck your cock, lick your balls, eat your ass. You name it.”

He smiles against your lips, letting out a raspy chuckle.

“You’re gonna fucking kill me with your words one day. Fuck”, he bites your lower lip gently, “I’m fucking crazy for you. Can I just stick it in? Please?”

“Yeah, stick it in.”

“I love you, thank you”, he says and reaches over to turn on the light.

You groan in the sudden brightness, squinting your eyes at him. His face is flushed, his pupils dilated, his dark hair messy. You feel yourself falling for him again and again.

“Is that okay for you? Wanna see my beautiful woman when I fuck her.”

“Aww Kook, you’re so sweet. Course it’s okay. Com’ere you.”

“Okay wait, gotta go slow. The space is small”, Jungkook says and begins his grande adventure of fixing himself atop of you.

He manages after a few bumps against the wall with his elbows.

“Okay, okay I got it. Got it”, he says and places his hands on the pillow above your head.

He meets your eyes and grins. You retort it.

“Ready?”

You nod your head, running your hands down his torso so you could push his cock inside.

“Want you like crazy, babyboy”, you rasp.

“Babyboy?” he is stifling a laugh, tingling like crazy because you are dragging his tip through your wet folds. It feels crazy good.

“Mh-hm, babyboy. Fits you ‘cause you’re cute.”

“I’m not cute.”

“Right. You’re so cool”, you are teasing him, stealing him of his whiney complaint by sinking his cock into you.

“Holy fuck, ___”, he drops his face into the crook of your neck and groans. Thankfully his lips are pressed to your skin because otherwise his noise would have echoed through the entire house.

You grab his buttocks, moving his hips this way.

“Fuck, baby”, he moans, slamming his hand onto the headboard just to drag it down in desperation. Another loud groan tickles your neck, his fingers close around the crown of your head. His arms tense.

“Quiet baby, you’re being too loud”, you coo.

“Quiet, yeah, quiet. Ah fuck, gotta be quiet urgh mhhmhm.”

“That’s it. Gotta be quiet”, you sigh and do the unthinkable crime of sliding your fingers between his buttocks just to rub his hole.

“Fu-”, Jungkook stops himself, sucking on your neck instead. He whimpers cutely as he does it, gripping the edge of the pillow.

“See? Told you, someone gonna poke your hole tonight “

“Fuck, shut up just- why are you so calm? A-ah you have me ahm, ah, fucking ah oh god, can’t talk. Oh god”, he stutters and retorts to whimpering softly and panting for air.

“You’re cute”, you snicker and sigh just for his hearing pleasure, “such a good boy too. Such a good boy”

“Fuck, baby…”

He begins chasing you, speeding up because you’ve got him desperate. He thrusts into you harshly.

Bang!

“Ah, ouchies my head.”

You open your eyes.

“What happened?” you gasp, sliding your hands to his hips.

“I banged my head on this stupid headboard”, he sits back on his heels and hits the headboard softly. He pouts, rubbing his aching head. He slipped out like this, but neither of you mind as his aching head is more important right now.

“Oh god, are you okay?” you laugh, sitting up to cup his head and rub the spot he hit.

“No, I’m not. Hurts”, he mumbles, “stupid shit, ruined the entire flow. I was picking up such a good rhythm too. Stupid.”

“God, come here you”, you say and tilt his head so you could press a kiss to the sore spot, “did that help?”

“Yeah, thanks”, he says with a little pout still present.

You trace it with your thumb, gazing at him.

“I’ve got an idea. Switch with me real quick.”

“Okay?”

“Trust me.”

“I am. Okay fine, teamwork come on.”

You and he make it work. How it happened is a mystery of the universe, but you managed.

“And now?” he asks, sitting where you once sat.

“Now, lean back and relax”, you say and push at his strong chest until his back collides with the headboard.

You climb his lap and sink down on him.

“Baby, oh god”, he croaks, looking up at you with droopy eyes. He places his hands on your hips, giving them a needy squeeze.

“There we go. Right where you’re supposed to be.”

You begin moving instantly, bouncing up and down on his cock with a swirl in your hips. Jungkook parts his lips in a silent moan, arching his back. You know that if you were in the privacy of your own home, he would be noisy as fuck right now. But the only thing noisy is your wet pussy getting stuffed with his perfect cock and his childhood bed croaking from the movement.

“How’s that baby?” you ask him, feeling out of breath because it feels so good to ride him. His groin keeps grinding against your clit, his cock hits all the best spots.

“Fucking heaven…ah, god ah, baby don’t stop”, he sighs, parting his lips to let small moans escape.

“It’s safer too. Can’t have my man bang his head again”, you say as you ruffle his hair with both hands.

He grins goofily, letting his head sort of droop as you completely turn him into puddy under you.

You giggle and cradle his head against your chest, closing your eyes. He hugs you back, throbbing deep inside you.

“You feel so good, oh god”, Jungkook moans into you, grasping you tightly.

“You too, my love…so good…you’ve got the best cock. Fucking love it so much.”

“Holy shit, please don’t stop. It’s so intense, ah god.”

“So good, baby. So good.”

“I love you so much, oh god. Love you, lo-love you s-so much.”

“I love you too, Kookie.”

“I love you, ah ___, I love…love you.”

“I love you too, baby. So much.”

Jungkook is a romantic. It has always been that way and will always stay this way. He is a total, soft and proud romantic. You notice it in day to day life in the little things he does or says. And then, when the sex hits the right spot on his heart, it practically bursts out of him. It isn’t rare that your husband ends up chanting the breathiest, neediest confessions of love when you and he are connecting. Tonight seems to hit the right spot for him. He just can’t stop saying it. It spills out of him with each movement, filling your heart with so much love for him.

You hug him closer, slowing down your bounces until you are only rocking back and forth on him.

Jungkook whimpers into your chest, lifting his head just so he can nuzzle into your neck.

“I love you so much”, he breathes out, shuddering uncontrollably.

“I love you too, baby.”

“Oh god, this feels so good.”

“Yeah, feels amazing”, you sigh, playing with his soft hair.

You understand why it is getting to him. You are so close. Your chests are melted together, you can feel the other’s racing pulse, your skins share one warmth and your noses are filled with the other’s scent. You are so close and connected, feeling even more intertwined through the deep, slow movements of your hips.

Jungkook slides his hands under your buttocks and lifts you just enough that he can sit cross legged and deepen the connection even further. He hits his knee on the wall as he tries to change it, mumbling a low “ouch” into your shoulder.

“Did you just hit your knee?”

“Yeah, there’s no space. Just ignore it, it’s fine”, he jokes, making you snicker just as he makes you moan because he sinks you back onto his cock.

“Fuck, Kook.”

“Good?”

“We’re so close, it’s insane”, you croak and press him closer, rocking your hips back and forth needily. He is grinding against your clit, it feels so good. No words can describe how good he feels.

“I know. I love you, baby.”

“I love you too, baby.”

Jungkook cradles you in his strong arms and sobs softly against your neck.

“I love you…”

“I love you too…”

From what you have learned, Jungkook needs you to say it back every time when he is in that headspace. No matter how often, how many variations, how loud or quiet, you need to say it back otherwise he gets so, so sad. The three most wonderful words are so, so much more important to him when he is in this headspace and they are also, quite frankly, the hottest dirty talk you could give him. No other words, no matter how nasty and dirty, could get his cock as hard and leaky as your confession of love could get him in those moments.

And oh how hard and leaky he is. How he is throbbing and twitching and filling you up. How his legs are shaking under you.

You lift your head from his neck to breathe, using the moment to litter his shoulder with kisses. He has such a pretty birthmark on it. You love to kiss it. He is yours, every inch of him, every birthmark and scar, every single inch of him is yours. Yours to love, to cherish, treat well and kiss. You could honestly eat him up.

Now aware of your changed position, Jungkook lifts his head as well, meeting your eyes. He is making the biggest, sparkliest doe eyes at you, looking so so in love.

“I love you”, he whispers shakily.

“I love you too”, you whisper back, cradling his cheeks, “mine, you’re all mine.”

“Yours, so yours” he agrees as the galaxies in his big brown eyes practically turn into countless little hearts.

“Mhm, yeah. Mine”, you sigh, swiping your palm down his cheek until you have his throat under it. You close your fingers around his neck without applying pressure. Your other hand still cradles his cheek.

Jungkook moans.

“Quiet, baby.”

“Sorry, oh god it’s so hard”, he whispers and parts his lips to gasp repeatedly.

“Mhhm Kook”, you purr, “mine. I love you so much, sweetheart”, you lull and apply just a little pressure. Not enough to make him dizzy, just enough to let him know you’ve got him.

Jungkook bites down on his lower lip, grasping your waist desperately. His cock twitches deep inside you, his thighs tense under you. You are seriously ruining him. You are.

“Good boy, you’re such a good boy”, you praise, tracing his pierced lip. Not for long because then you already have Jungkook opening his mouth and sticking out his tongue.

You drag your fingers up his soft muscle, feeling tingles deep inside you. This is so hot.

Jungkook sighs and closes his mouth around your digits, sucking on them with pouty lips and big doe eyes. You can feel how his neck tenses from the movement and how much faster his pulse becomes.

“You’re so hot, holy fuck”, you croak, lifting yourself off his cock so you could command him to stretch out his legs.

He follows, getting rewarded with your pussy and your eager hips dancing on his needy cock. You are on your knees for it, using the bounce of his mattress to your advantage to ride him as if it is the last time you ever will. He moans around your fingers, furrowing his brows in utter bliss.

“Quiet baby, be quiet”, you gasp out, feeling breathless from pleasure. His throat under your hand, his mouth on your fingers and his cock deep inside while his strong hands knead your waist and hips. Yeah, it can’t get any better than that. You are fucking obsessed.

Jungkook mewls and keens. You slip your fingers out, resulting in his spit to cover his chin.

“Quiet, come on.”

“It’s, it’s so ah ha-hard. A-ah.”

“Quiet, baby. Just be quiet, it’s easy’, you order, slamming your hips down on him repeatedly. And to make matters worse, you put your slickened, greedy fingers on his left nipple to massage it eagerly. You abandon his neck to lick your other hand and use it to massage his right nipple as well. You twist and pinch, tug and rub, play with his piercings and trace his very tip. You know exactly what drives your husband crazy and you are hellbent on showing him all your tricks.

“Stop please”, Jungkook begs, arching his back, “stop please stop”, he pleads.

“Hurts?”

He shakes his head, “too hard, please.”

“You can do it, baby. Just be quiet, it’s easy.”

“Ah god, ah, aaah” Jungkook mewls and throws his head back, grasping your waist with such desperation he brings it in just a little. He is kicking the sheets as best as possible, curling his tongue in his agape mouth.

That’s where you want him. That’s his best look. You take his swollen nipples between your fingers and rub them in sideways motions.

His abs tense, his huge pecs throb and tighten, his arms bulge as well. You are hitting the right fucking spots and his body reacts in the sexiest of ways.

“Ahng”, Jungkook silences himself by throwing his hand over his own mouth. He scrunches his face, whimpering behind his hand.

“Holy fuck, this is so hot. That’s it, keep quiet. Good boy. Fuck, I love you.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes back and squeezes them shut. He sobs your name. You can feel it before you see it on his face. This was too much for him. You are making him climax. Deep, deep inside you and with days worth of hot, creamy cum he is shooting into you, bruising your waist in the process and biting down on his own palm just to stop himself from screaming your name. Tears run down his cheeks, he is arching his back even more. Yeah, you’ve really got him good.

You help him ride it out with a fluttering heart, giving him the best kind of afterglow by cupping his face and pulling it in for kisses all while your hips rock back and forth on his still hard cock.

Jungkook drops into your hands, feeling so far away and yet so, so close to you. His cock is sensitive, but it doesn’t hurt. It is just warm, wet and safe. He is so safe when he is inside you. Your pussy feels so good. Every ridge, hill, crevice and inch. Only you feel this good. Only you. And only you can make him feel this way.

“I love you”, Jungkook gets out shakily, dripping tears from the tip of his perfect nose. You tilt his head up and kiss the tears away.

“I love you too, Kookie. How is my hubby love doing? Comfy?”

“Yes comfy”, his voice is just a little higher in pitch, “feels so good.”

“Yeah, feels amazing. You did such a good job filling me up like this. Making me yours and all. I love you so much, baby.”

“I love you too, oh god”, Jungkook opens his eyes, sniffling with shaking shoulders.

“Good?”

He nods his head vigorously, cradling your cheeks.

“I just love you so much”, he squeaks and rolls his hips up slowly, meeting your movements as best as possible.

“Yes love you too”, you sigh, “oh”, your eyes go just a little out of focus, “oh Kook, there.”

“There? Do you like this?” he asks repeating his movements all the way down to flow, speed and angle.

“Yes, so much. Ah Kookie, you…ah feel…holy fuck, so good. Ah.”

“Quiet, baby”, he whispers, making you chuckle breathlessly.

“Yeah, fuck I get you now. Fuck mhm.”

“It’s hard, isn’t it?”

You nod your head, giving his cheeks a squeeze.

“Shit baby. Kookie, I’m close.”

His pupils dilate even more. His breathing speeds up.

“You are?”

“You feel so good”, you sigh and whimper softly, fluttering your lashes, “is hard.”

“Don’t hold back, baby. I’ve got you.”

“No, is hard to, to keep looking at you. Want to look at you as I…ah…I, I cum.”

“Baby…” Jungkook gets out and squeezes your cheeks, “fuck. I love you so fucking much.”

“I love…you…too...Kookie ah please.”

“Let go, baby. Let go. I’ve got you, baby.”

“Koo, ah”, you squeak out, falling into him as your high overtakes you.

You shake and convulse, using his shoulder to muffle your sounds as Jungkook soothes you. He is cradling your head, rubbing your back as he shushes you and whispers the sweetest love to you.

“That’s my girl. I love you cumming on my cock. That’s it. You’re doing so well. I’ve got you, babygirl. You’re such a good girl. Such a good girl, god you’re my good girl.”

Honestly, you blame him for making this orgasm as hard and intense as it is, because goddamn does it feel good to be talked through this way. Fuck, you’re climaxing just from his words. Honestly.

Jungkook makes sure to give you the best afterglow as well by squeezing your hips tighter to his body and giving your sensitive clit warm pressure. You love warm pressure after a high. The comedown is so intense but healing. And as you shudder in his arms, he is tracing your spine slowly, enjoying the moments of silence with closed eyes. You have your eyes closed as well, finding solace in his heartbeat against your chest. It is synced with yours, slowing down gradually.

You are the one to break the silence.

“So uhm, that was intense.”

“Yeah”, he sighs and sighs again, “thank you, I needed this so bad.”

“Me too, baby. Who would have thought that your tiny bed is that good to fuck in.”

Jungkook chuckles, “yeah. The creaking was a little annoying though.”

“I kinda feel like your parents must have heard something.”

“Please don’t say that, I’ll cringe to death.”

You laugh, lifting your head from his shoulder. You press a loving kiss to his lips then wipe his tear-stained cheeks.

“I genuinely tried to be quiet.”

“Me too. You didn’t make it easier. I think I nutted with my nipples, no joke.”

“I can imagine”, you snort and shimmy on his lap, “I’m starting to leak.”

“Sexy.”

“Not sexy. Wet and gooey.”

“Don’t call it that”, he laughs as he helps you slip off his cock. You leak onto his thighs, hissing in distaste.

“God, such a mess. Sorry.”

“It’s okay, let it happen.”

“Don’t wanna let it happen. It’s so messy and wet.”

“Wait, let me”, Jungkook says and reaches for his bedside table. He takes a handful of tissues, “here you go”, he says and hands them to you.

“Thanks.”

You press them to your pussy, climbing off his lap awkwardly.

“Please ignore the noises, air sometimes has its own mind”, you mumble.

“It’s okay, let it happen baby. You know how I sometimes sound after anal.”

You and he snicker in comradery. Yep, being married and comfortable is definitely amazing. Not even the most embarrassing sex noises are embarrassing when you’re together.

“You know, creampies are awesome in the moment, but afterwards? A cramp in the anus”, you say, wiping at your pussy with new tissues.

Jungkook laughs, “at least you’ve got tissues. Remember that one time we fucked in a motel only to realise we didn’t have tissues?”

You are putting on your pyjama just in case you meet his parents outside. If you were alone, you wouldn’t bother.

“And I had to use my hand to catch it? Yes baby, you laughed at me. How could I forget?”

“I only laughed because you were cute as you waddled to the bathroom.”

“Yeah sure”, you say and lean down to peck his cheek, “brb, gonna go piss real quick.”

“Mhm’kay”, Jungkook says with a goofy smile on his lips.

He is still grinning goofily when you come back, resting on his side with his eyes to the door. He is still naked, opening the blanket for you.

“Did you steal the wall side?” you ask him as you get naked again.

“I did.”

“Not cool. I claimed it.”

“And I reclaimed it.”

You roll your eyes fondly, climbing under the blanket. Jungkook wraps his arms around you and pulls you into him instantly. He drapes his leg over your hips, smooching your cheek before nuzzling into your neck.

“You feel cold”, he whispers

“The pee cooled me down.”

“Mhm, is nice”, he kisses your skin, “sleep tight, my sweetie.”

“You too, my love”, you say and turn off the light.

He wiggles and makes a small sound of contentment. He shifts his head a little.

“Psst, sweetie?”

“Yes, sweetie?” you giggle because he is a goof.

“How was it for you?”

“Amazing. I loved it.”

“Me too. Was so good”, he breathes and sighs, growing softer, “I really love you. I do. Yeah, you my baby and boo.”

“That rhymed.”

“Mhm, yeah…” he sighs and exhales deeply. He fell asleep. Of course he did.

You melt into him and drift off in his arms. Maybe sharing a small bed isn’t as terrible as you first thought it would be.

#jungkook smut #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook scenario #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts smut #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts scenario #bts x reader #bts x you #bangtan smut #bangtan fanfic #bangtan fanfiction #bangtan scenario #bangtan x reader #bangtan x you #fanfic: ogc

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disneyprincemuke · 4 months

Text

oscar's logan's girl * ls2 op81

oscar truly never thought he would ever see the girl that was the cause of his first ever heartbreak

pairings: logan sargeant oscar piastri x fem!reader

notes: first of all, i want to thank everyone for liking the first part to this huhuhu i PERSONALLY think this is one of the fics i've written for an individual driver that has gotten this much feedback and responses... i never thought, in the 6 hours it took me to write that, that people would even like it so much... thank you for the kind words u guys <;/3

and now i would like to apologise if this did NOT go the way you thought it would... i couldn't bear hurting either logan or oscar, and holding grudges seemed like such an unlikely thing for a man of oscar's caliber... sorry if it doesn't go the way you thought <;/3

word count: 2.3k

(oscar's girl) // (f1 masterlist)

you let out the heaviest sigh, clutching onto the almost empty mercedes cup in your hand. you look over your shoulder, watching lily and carmen walk away without you in the direction of where the boys would be.

you stare at the unfamiliar, yet somehow most familiar, pair of brown eyes boring into your own. in the back of your mind, you remember the hushed giggles and how his hand used to feel in yours while you were in the streets of melbourne. you can almost remember what he sounded like when you were just kids, and the man that stands in front of you barely looks like what you remember of him.

you were devastated when you lost oscar's phone number. when you moved away to inevitably stay in the united states, you had every single intention of keeping the friendship with oscar. you just needed a week of settling in. you barely made any other meaningful friendships worth keeping in melbourne; all except the one that you had developed with oscar.

arguably, you could have done more to find him again. you could have gone on instagram, or any other social media site to try and keep the friendship alive. but you thought, after all those tears you shed before your departure, it would be better to stay away.

you only ever thought of oscar once in the past couple of years. the night before your first date with logan: you couldn't fall asleep from the nerves and anxiety. you had gotten along well over the phone, the williams driver playing his cards right every single time he would send you a text message and had your cheeks hurting from smiling too much and kicking your feet in the air.

you came across pictures of you and the young boy in melbourne, tucked away in a dusty photo album that you kept stored under your bed. you don't reminisce much: the memories you had up until you were 16 are a blur in your head. too much had happened, and the only memory that you keep with you is the fact that you moved around more than the average person.

"it's been a while," you finally speak, readjusting your shirt. the wet patch on your shirt, now slightly cold from the weather, your jacket doesn't really do much now to keep you warm. "how have you been?"

you can physically see the gears in oscar's head turn. his eyes bore into yours as he contemplates what he will say to you. if this had happened sooner after you had stopped talking to him, he would know what to say to you. because he spent his nights, and logan's mornings, talking about what he would say to you.

oscar presses his lips into a thin line. he has two choices now: unload the frustration he's forgotten about as he grew into an adult, or just be civil with the girl he could have sworn was the love of his life at 14. you never left his mind, even after all of these years, up until the moment that he met his now girlfriend, lily. he's a firm believer that you would have lasted forever if you had just stayed.

"i've been good. i'm a race car driver now," he smiles, gesturing to the paddocks around him. he's just going to try and ignore the fact that you're dating his literal best friend. "i told you."

you throw your head back with a laugh, making oscar drop his smile in the slightest of ways. he feels his chest close in on itself at the sound you're making. sometimes he fears that he'd never truly gotten over you, but that seems more like an overreaction in normal circumstances.

oscar wasn't aware of the fact that it could very well be the truth right now.

"you always did tell me you're going to be a racer," you agree with a smile. you remember going along with him to an obscure go-kart establishment once when you were growing up. it simply wasn't your thing, but you supported him through and through even as a young 14-year-old. "small world, huh?"

oscar nods with a small smile. "so, um. what happened?"

you tilt your head. "what do you mean?"

"you stopped answering my text messages out of the blue one day after you moved," oscar laughs softly, shrugging. "did i do something wrong? what happened?"

you sigh, closing your eyes as it hits you. there is something about the way his eyes are turned down slightly, and it doesn't take a genius to tell that he's trying to smile through whatever emotion he is feeling.

and you understand it if you were to put yourself in his shoes. it's genuinely all on you: you had promised that you wouldn't drift away from him before you left. you promised him, back then, that there would come a time that would bring you back together to give your relationship a fighting chance.

keeping in contact was very essential to that promise.

you don't think of oscar. but now that you do, you can see the scene of when you were about to leave playing vividly in your head. he had asked you for one simple thing: not to drift away so that someday, you can meet again and give yourselves a real fighting chance.

because realistically, at 14, there was not much to fight for but the overwhelming surge of emotions you have for something that is often categorised as puppy love.

but oscar knew even then that there was definitely something more.

"i dropped my phone in the lake. i got a new phone and a new number," you whisper dejectedly, trying to avoid the intensity of his stare. and you're prepared to receive the brunt of his anger, understandably so after you had unintentionally ghosted him. "i'm sorry. in hindsight, i should have done more to reconnect with you - social media is powerful, after all."

oscar nods, his lips pressed into a polite smile. though you can notice him clenching his jaw as he tries to force himself not to cause a scene in such a public setting.

a setting where your boyfriend, his best friend, would be involved. and his girlfriend who doesn't deserve this type of scandal tied to her name.

"we were just kids," oscar shrugs. but there's a bitterness in his mouth that he cannot ignore for too long. there is a bubbling urge from the deepest part of his gut to scream at you for all those days he swore he was going to go crazy from the pain of suddenly losing you. "i was bummed, though, when i lost you."

bummed is an understatement. the degree to which he grieved is unspoken between him and logan.

he doesn't blame logan for being overprotective of him when lily started to come into the picture. he was sat down by the american, by the sidewalks during their morning run, asking him to think long and hard about this.

it's the only time they had spoken of the instance that oscar almost lost himself. oscar waved off his concerns and said he was sure of what he has with lily, and that's a decision that he is still very proud of.

"i was devastated. but i was also scared," you whisper with a smile. "we were 14, but what i felt for you at the time... it was bigger than us, oscar. we had no fight against something like that."

oscar smiles. "logan is good to you, i hope?"

"we only just got together a couple months ago," you nod, "but he is amazing."

oscar nudges his head towards the direction that lily and carmen had walked towards earlier. you hop off your spot to catch up as he starts to walk by his side. "i've got a girlfriend of my own now. her name's lily too."

"doesn't that get confusing when you're all together? with alex's girlfriend and yours?"

"sometimes. but we don't hang out with the older drivers often," oscar admits with a scrunch of his nose. you have to bite back a laugh at his habit, seeing that it's something that has never left him. "it's a bit awkward. logan and i are typically together more often than not."

"how come?"

"we've only got each other," oscar shrugs. " we met at a karting race when we were really young. we kept in contact when we were apart. i think i may have told you about him a couple of times - my best friend living in florida."

you purse your lips, trying to rake at your brain for a time that oscar said that to you. unfortunately, your memory doesn't go that far back into the details of what you had. "wow. there's a lot i must have forgotten. i didn't know you went way back."

oscar smiles. with the little bit of resentment he has towards you, he completely understands (at his big age) why you don't seem to remember it as well as he did.

which is why he hated that he fell in love with you. he had made you his world and the meaning of his life, causing him to fall apart and crack at your goodbye.

you were an integral part of his life, but he was just a sliver of a memory in one of the places you had stayed in for a year or two. it had taken a while to start seeing it the way he does now. he hated you for what you did for years until everything started to fall into place for him in his head.

suddenly he understood why you were hesitant to befriend him in the first place. it must not have been easy to keep leaving friends behind.

"nah, it's alright. if i had such unstable environments like you did growing up, i'd have turned out much worse than you," oscar laughs. "did you move again after you moved to washington?"

you nod again. "one more time. we moved to la after three years - you know my dad. but it wasn't as severe as moving end to end of the world from australia to the united states, i guess."

"ba- oh." you calmly turn to the side, beaming when logan approaches you with confusion on his face. "i was looking for you all over the place. lily and carmen told me you ran into an old friend?"

logan had noticed oscar before you, the bright papaya orange that oscar sports all year around is not easy to miss. "i see you met oscar! what a coincidence."

"yeah, we," you laugh, rolling your eyes playfully as you meet him halfway, "funny enough, babe. we used to go to school together. in melbourne when my dad had business there when i was younger."

oscar presses his lips together, shoving his hands into his pockets and rocks back and forth on his feet. he knows it won't take long for logan to complete the puzzle.

"oh?" logan furrows his eyebrows at you, one hand on your back protectively. "small world. oscar's actually my best friend - he's on the family fridge back in florida."

"yeah, he mentioned!" you beam, wrapping your arms around his. "who would have thought that the oscar you keep talking about is the same one i know?"

logan smiles, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. "right! so this is my guest for the weekend, man. my girlfriend - we met over the winter break. i can't believe you guys go way back! this makes it so much easier, doesn't it?"

oscar wants to run away. doesn't matter where, or how he will get there, because all he can focus on is the way you're leaning into logan's touch and the way logan's smile is so bright that it could be seen by the stars.

you clearly just had that effect on people. he's just another one of those people who fell for the welcoming aura you emit.

"did you guys know each other well?" logan asks.

oscar shares a glance with you. but he knows logan, more than you, perhaps. if logan finds out the history that you share, he will not be able to live with himself. he would leave you, leaving all three of you devastated.

so as you open your mouth to respond excitedly, oscar speaks over your mutter. "not really, just had a couple of classes together," oscar lies with a smile. he reluctantly settles for logan's excitement instead of your confusion. "we bumped into one another, i thought she looked familiar."

"oh, yeah! have you got an extra shirt i could borrow? i spilled coffee all over my top," you laugh, pulling down the zip of your jacket slightly to show him the patch.

"mate, i need to go and find lily," oscar says, reaching out to pat his friend on the shoulder. "i'll see you tonight. dinner afterwards, right?"

truthfully, he wants to ditch it. but you were both 14. it's not fair to keep holding it against you when all the odds were stacked against you both.

"absolutely. i'll see you tonight, man," logan smiles, waving at him as he walks away.

he can briefly hear your conversation as he fought all urges to turn around and glance at you.

"are you sure you want to borrow my shirt? i've only got my williams team shirts in my driver's room. i can ask someone to go out and find you one, if you'd like."

"no, of course not! i want everyone to know i'm with the williams driver, you know? announce it to the world."

logan sounds so into you, and he can't fault him for that. you've got a way with people that just reel them in. he should know - he was one of those people that were wrapped around your finger.

oscar's girl, as logan would tease during karting when he was resigned to a corner to text you after the race.

but in his head, you will always be his girl, because that's what he used to call you. that's the memory of you that will live in his head forever.

@myxticmoon @fangirl-dot-com @f1enthusiastsstuff @barnestatic @ladywhistledownx @holy-macncheese-balls @lightdragonrayne @almostjollypizza @sleepybrokenmelle @flyclaren @sagestack @de1u1ugyal @starssfall @cherry-piee @cstads-blog @renarots @strrgirlxqs @uuoozzii @bringbacktim @esposamultifandom @ssprayberrythings

#THIS IS #SOOOO #???#sucked imo #anyway #logan sargeant x reader #logan sargeant x you #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 x you #disneyprincemuke #disneyprincemuke imagine #disneyprincemuke imagines #disneyprincemuke f1

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thegnomelord · 5 months

Note

heyo!!! here for the prompt game!!!!

can i have 19 with monster au ghost and soap (make em trans if ya can).... reader is male and a top/dom and he's an older dragon hybrid so he has a bit of a dad bod and is a little insecure about his looks and also his age affecting his performance (two lizard pp) i want the boys to comfort their dilf

Ngl this took me so long to do as I just couldn't figure out how to write it 😅 Play the game HERE.

Prompt: Becoming self conscious after the clothes come off

CW:NSFW, monster 141 au, FTM wraith Ghost, FTM werewolf Soap, M!dragon reader, afab language, double dick, oral, double penetration, body worship,

Dragons only stop growing when something kills them and you're old enough to have shed blood on Jerusalem's walls; you know how you look — fat widening your frame and hiding the sharp musculature you possessed, old age muddling fogging the gemstone like shine of your scales until they look like low quality stones, wing membranes dotted with holes and broken horns capped with gold and iron again and again and again throughout the ages.

You watch Ghost and Soap disrobe after a long day of running drills, Simon periodically giving one word answers to Johnny's insistent but welcome chatter as he helps Soap take off his gear after he'd sprained his back. It's domestically calming, watching your boys—your hoard— take care of each other, Soap's eyes settling on yours as he licks his lips; dread stabs your ancient heart. It picks a new spear morning you wake to find them huddling next to you when you expected them to be long gone, sharpening it throughout the day until you find yourself back in your bedroom with them so dark dread can stab your heart once again.

How can you even call them yours?

You're not dumb. You know no partner deserves to doubt their own abilities when you fail to become hard immediately like they do, hairpin triggers that they are. Nor do they deserve to be left needy and wet, bodies rearing to go again quickly while exhaustion claws at your eyelids after just one orgasm; curse your draconic blood for turning more than just your body lazy as the years go by.

You're so deep in your head you don't notice them until four hands grip you and before you know it you're being flung onto the bed. You land with all the grace of a mountain, the bed's groaning under your weight not helping to stop the thoughts in your head. They're on you like wolves, straddling your thighs as if mortal men can pin a dragon down.

"Now whaet's gotten yer tail in'a twist?" Soap asks, greedy hands sliding beneath your shirt to trace the swell of your firm stomach. Your heart preens at his touch before your mind can remind you that in society's vain eyes-their eyes- you're less, just bragging rights, a notch on the bedpost.

"I'm fine." You growl, pulling Johnny's hands out beneath your shirt. He looks defeated like a child deprived of a toy, though your sharp senses pick up a spike of arousal.

"Sure," Ghost's sharp eyes track your every movement, blackened hand gripping your forearm, claws tracing the place were muddy scales melt into human skin. Even completely nude atop your thigh his form strikes a sharp image compared to you. "What, did you get a shite tatt while we weren't lookin'?"

"Is it a tramp stamp?" Johnny perks up at that, a low sound coming from him and his thighs clench around your own, slick dampening your skin. "No, no, a dick tatt." And suddenly his hand's at your groin, fondling the smooth surface of your pelvis over your boxers in an attempt to coax your cocks out of your genital slit. It doesn't work, like usual.

"Fuck's sake," You growl and grab his arm, trying to ignore the swell of your heart when your rough action makes Johnny's arousal spike. "I'm fine, really."

"Mhm, and I'm the Queen." Ghost snorts, using your temporary distraction to lean in and lick a long stripe up the side your neck, nibbling on your ear until a treacherous rumbling purr leaves your chest. Your body doesn't care of the shit going on in your head, only recognizes the sweet arousal of your hoard and the soft touch they leave on your body, rough hands sliding across your skin and feeling the hard muscles beneath the fat.

"More of a princess, sure 'r bossy like one." Johnny pipes up and ducks to escape a swat over the back of the head from Ghost, unperturbed by your grip of his arm Johnny slides his other hand down your front, sharp claws shredding your shirt before you can stop him. "What's wrong bonnie? Not 'nough that this handsome knight comes t' lay yea?"

You suck in a sharp breath, eyes closing to escape their gaze, "I just-" You breathe out, "-just don't know what you see in me."

Silence follows your words and you're sure the next moment they'll get off and this thing you had will just be over. Then a hand grips your hair, your eyes falling open just in time to catch Simon's before he roughly kisses you. Soap is close behind, tail wagging rapidly as he licks the side of your lip and taking Simon's place when you seperate.

"How about we show you, yeah?" Simon growls, briefly groping the firm swell of your abdomen then sliding his hand down to cut your boxers away with his claws, leaving you as bare as they are. Ghost's clever fingers sneak down further to slide across your genital slit, sharp claws tenderly scratching the smooth scales around it and fingers spreading it open, thumb rubbing the head of one cock as it's starting to peek out.

"Not going tae stop us will yae?" Johnny's hands wander over your exposed chest, roughly groping your fat pecs as you both groan into the kiss. "Cause ah been wantin' to do this for a while," Then he pulls his head back and pushes it between your pecs, a low sound escaping him as he shakes his head.

A surprised laugh leaves you as you realize Soap's fucking motorboarding you, nipping and kissing your fat chest. His touch makes fire burn in your stomach, the way both of their hands roam across the wide expanse of your body making goosebumps pop up on your skin.

"Way to ruin the mood mutt," Simon chuckles alongside you, then his eyes go down. "Oh, like us being sweet on you, huh?" He smirks, fingers wrapping around your cock as you only now realize you've gotten hard, "Want us to keep going?" The sharp scent of their arousal is impossible to miss, only making both of your cocks just that much harder.

"Yeah," You breathe out, letting them maneuver you however they want. You end up flat on your back with Ghost stradling your face, cunt leaking slick down on your face. Soap's between your legs with his plump lips already latched on your lower cock, sucking and licking your cock like it's a popsicle.

"Fuck-" Simon yelps when you follow Soap's lead and pull Ghost down firmly on your face, your obscenely long tongue sliding out to lick a fat stripe across his folds. "-just like that. Shit, you take such good care of us." Ghost groans, his voice stroking that draconic need to guard your hoard and making you worm your tongue inside him. The sudden intrusion of your tongue inside his fluttering walls makes him double over you, but soon after you feel him latch on to your second cock.

Even with all your senses consumed by them you still catch the slight whine in Johnny's chest, already imagining him roughly fingering himself as he sucks you off and watches Simon's eyes grow bleary every time you twist your tongue to hit that special spot inside him. Without thinking you slide your tail between Soap's legs, mind flooding with endorphins at Soap's pleased groan around your cock before he's roughly grinding against your tail, cunt wetly pulsing and drawing more sounds from him each time his clit scraps against your scales.

You don't know how long you float in a fog of pleasure, Simon's sweet slick flooding your mouth, skin feeling hot like magma from their hands wandering and groping your flesh like you're some god, mind buzzing from the sound of their collective pleasure and the sweet tight heat of their mouths on your cocks. At some point you become aware of the orgasm steadily encroaching towards you and you'll be damned if you cum before them.

Giving Simon's sweet cunt a final lewd 'slurp' you pull your tongue back, jaw and throat covered in his fluids. Ghost slumps against you, breathing hard while still continuing to suck you off, his eyes meeting Soap's while the Scott desperately humps your tail and whines because it's not enough.

"On the bed." You growl, low and possessive, your strength still surpassing them as you maneuver them. Simon ends up on his back with Johnny pressed up on top of him, both bodies flush with heat and sweaty.

"Fuck, bonnie-" Johnny sucks in a sharp breath and grinds his hips against Simon, biting his shoulder and groaning as the motion makes their cunts rub together, mingling their slick. "Come on, fuck me-us, just-"

"I know," You chuckle, wings subconsciously spreading out to show how big you are, how strong, how you can take care of them. "Need me to fuck you boys good and hard huh?" You let out a low rumbling growl, draping your body over theirs and not holding back so they can feel your weight. You don't miss how their scents sharpen with more arousal.

"Stop talking," Simon growls, brown eyes meeting yours and urging you to press your slick cockheads against their wet holes, each cock almost tailored just for them. Simon groans as you slide in, your first cock not as long as your second one but fat and Simon relishes the burn as you spread him to his limit.

"Shite," Johnny grinds his hips back to meet yours and whimpers when your cock head brushes his cervix, both of their bellies bulging from you being inside them. "God, fockin' love you for this,"

Another small laugh escapes you, "Love you too," making a few short pumps of your hips to get them acclimated to the stretch of you inside them you start making deeper thrusts. "Love you both so much," Your confession is honest from the deepest part of your heart, a deep draconic groan leaving your lips at the way they clench so wonderfully around you.

You see Ghost open his mouth but words escape him as your cock saws into him, all the bumps and ridges on your shaft scraping their soft walls until they're both shaking, soft little moans and deep growls leaving them. You pick up the pace, sharp had thrusts into their pliant bodies making the bed smack against the wall.

You fuck them hard and fast until they're shaking with an orgasm but you don't stop, teeth bared as if to scare off your own pleasure so you can fuck them over and over and over again.

#Gnome's prompt game #cod mw2 #x reader #gnome correspondence #top male reader #male reader #john soap mactavish #ftm character #ftm sub #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x male reader #john soap mactavish x male reader #john soap mactavish x reader #sub john soap mactavish #sub simon riley

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pedgito · 5 months

Text

𝐌𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐌𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐒 ╳ SERIES MASTERLIST

Chapter Two: Chivalry, Secrets & Hot Tubs (Week One)

[strangers to friends to lovers, age gap (56/mid 20s), forced proximity, no outbreak]

(Series) Content Warning: a very, very lonely joel miller. copious amounts of lusting, tension, joel is an excellent cook (food, alcohol, ect), hot tubs, impromptu snowball fights, awkward situations, deep talks and tragic backstories (specified within chapter warnings, deeply depraved smut/sexcapades and the inappropriate use of a dining table (also specified within chapter warnings), nicknames of endearment (no use of y/n)

quick note: i love all the reblogs/feedback and that you're all enjoying this as much as i am <3 and a huge thank you to @swiftispunk for being the best and looking over the first chapter for me, i am completely scatter-brained and forgot to mention this when i posted last monday, so tysm han and pls go check her out if you haven't! & follow my fic update blog (@pedgitos) and turn on post notifications so you don't miss any updates/posted fics!

Chapter Summary: Settling in is easier than you expect, but it does come with a fair share of challenges. A week filled with getting to know one another and some moments shared, your week doesn't end on the best note, leaving you with a choice.

Chapter Warnings: (8k) no outbreak, grumpy!Joel, domestic shenanigans, Joel being naturally assertive, cooking dinner together, reading is good at encouraging Joel, one hot tub & two stubborn individuals, also...one bed trope incoming

You wake up refreshed, like you’ve been born with a new reverence for life—alright, it might be a bit of an overstatement but it’s a wonder what a decent night of sleep could do and you’re feeling that this idea, playing house with a stranger—though it wasn’t much like that anymore—wasn’t the worst choice. And it reminds you of Joel, having left him in the chair last night, not wanting to burden him but you can only imagine the ache in his bones, his back, the discomfort of sleeping in a chair all night.

You lay for a moment, bleary eyes adjusting to the early morning light. The morning sunshine wasn’t strong here, blanketed out by a stark white snow that covered the ground, it muted out most colors and left a cool, but bright blue that shined through the window above your bed.

It was peaceful. No cars, no buzz of strong electricity outside your window, people and their idle conversation a few floors down from your apartment window. Not even a bird, really. But, there’s a distinct clearing of a throat from the living room that has you stirring in bed, rising lazily as you move with the same enthusiasm.

It was a fresh week. The first official week of your vacation and you were going to start it off on a good note, clambering out of the bed and slipping on a pair of fluffy slippers to keep your toes from freezing off, not bothering to glance in a mirror on the way out—not that you needed to, it didn’t matter. It was early, you were still trying to shed the sleep from your body and you could care less. Plus, it wasn’t like an old t-shirt and sleep shorts was some foreign concept.

When you peek around the corner, arms crossed tightly over your chest, you can spot Joel’s head tilting to one side, hand kneading at the taut muscle in the center of his back where his neck starts to begin and then you’re stuck watching as he stretches his arms out wide, working out all of those muscles. Every single one. And you’ve been silent for far too long.

Yeah.

Clearing your throat softly, you approach from behind and keep your distance, announcing your presence like you hadn’t been lingering for a minute or two already.

“Morning,” You greet politely, resting your weight against the edge of the island, taking in full view of a freshly awoken Joel, eyes still puffy from sleep.

He looks very…gentle. Surprisingly, so. It softens his rigid demeanor significantly and you have to silently talk yourself out of glaring at him for too long, “I didn’t want to wake you—I’m so sorry.”

Jeez—you two are getting good at that. Apologizing, afraid to step on each other’s toes.

“Not your fault,” Joel massages his bicep with the heavy pressure of his thumb, looking slightly pained as he rolls his shoulders, “I didn’t realize how tired I was.”

“Yeah, but I forced you to stay up, so—”

“You didn’t,” Joel quickly shuts you down, “I’m a grown man,” there’s a laugh hidden somewhere in there, but Joel continues, “don’t blame yourself for my own irresponsibility.”

It’s too early for this. You force on a fake smile, void of any real emotion at this hour, running on fumes and the smell of coffee. Speaking of—you sniff, eyes searching for the smell like a dog would track a scent, and Joel is already pointing in the direction you should be looking for when your eyes land on him.

“I already finished it off on my own,” Joel admits, pointedly taking another long sip before resting the mug back on the counter, “I can get another pot goin’ if you need it.”

There’s an inclination to let him, seeing him assert himself so easily and offer, but you shake your head, “I think I can handle a coffee maker,” You assure him, meandering around the kitchen in search of the coffee grounds, ignoring Joel’s tracking of your movements, waiting for a moment to interject and point you in the right direction. You spot them a moment before the urge comes with a soft aha!

“I needed to make a drive into town,” Joel tells you after you’ve gone through the steps of starting your own batch of coffee, “pick up some more food, figured you might wanna tag along.”

He’s not asking, only assuming. But to be fair, his assumption is right.

“Sure,” You reply cooly, pouring yourself a hefty cup of coffee to sip on, letting your body take hold of the caffeine, “...how far away is the closest town?”

“Hour and a half.” Joel answers and you almost have the nerve to go wide-eyed on him, but then you remember just how deep into the woods you both were and that it was necessary.

Truthfully, there was a more concerning matter at hand.

“How’s your music taste?”

Joel has the gall to look offended by the question.

“I’m leavin’ in thirty,” Joel ignores you, “don’t think I won’t hesitate to leave you here.”

Okay, noted: Joel wasn’t much the morning person you assumed he was.

Joel immediately realizes how little disregard you have for touching things that aren’t yours when you reach for the makeshift box of cassettes tapes placed in the backseat of his truck—the thing was old, riding on it’s last leg, but it was something Joel would cherish until it was unsalvageable, torn seats, dents, and all.

“Ain’t gonna find anything you like in there,” Joel assures you, “None of that pop stuff they’re always playin’ on the radio these days.”

The tables turn on him suddenly, seeing your face contort into a similar emotion that he gave you earlier. Bewilderment, shock, annoyance. You scoff at the comment.

“Says you,” You retort back, sifting through the different cassettes until you find Joel trading glances between you and the road in front of him, almost worried you might chuck his collection out of the passenger side window, “Joel, eyes on the road.”

Joel enjoys a lot of country, which isn’t a total disbelief. But, it wasn’t something you shared the sentiment on, flicking away a handful of country artists you’ve never listened to and reaching some of the good stuff—older rock music, some classic 80s, and late 90s.

You pluck one out carefully, prying open the cassette case with gentle hands before sliding the tape in, allowing the low hum of the music to fill the car. There’s a brief moment of respite before Joel smirks to himself, thumb tapping against the steering wheel.

“What were you saying?” You look at him pointedly, shifting slightly in your seat.

Joel looks away briefly, biting back a chuckle, “Fine—I’ll give you some credit. Foo Fighters aren’t terrible, but you skipped right over Bruce Springsteen, so…”

You scoff in disbelief, “You don’t get to criticize me with that atrocious collection of country music,” You stare down at the box in thought, eyes brimming with a mischievous that Joel knows of immediately, he’s seen it before. Not with you, but he knows, “you know, maybe I should just do you a favor and—”

You can barely get a hand on the window roller before Joel’s hand is gripped tight over the box, trapping your other hand in his grip as he warns, “I’m not above leavin’ you stranded in the cold.”

Your grin is nothing but evil and Joel finds that there’s something about you that infuriates him in a way that is hard to describe, not in anger or rage, but a level that he thinks he could match. A game of back and forth that he could play into—but you’re quickly relenting regardless of the threat and placing the box on the floorboard.

“Already tried that,” You retort, “didn’t work too well for you, did it?”

Fair is fair. Joel doesn’t poke the beast.

Instead, he takes the chance to ask a question.

“So, what exactly was your plan?” Joel asks curiously. “You comin’ out here with no car and all?”

You shrug nonchalantly, “Didn’t really have one, but I would have figured it out.”

Joel shakes his head dismissively, subtly resembling a face of disapproval.

“Hey, you don’t get to judge me, okay?” You don’t wait for a response, “You can have whatever assumptions you want about me, but don’t try and act like you know anything about me.”

It was another reminder. Joel didn’t know you, but you didn’t know him either. You reign your frustration in slightly, quick to defend yourself but aware that not everyone handles confrontation in the same way—if Joel was quick to anger, you didn’t want to stoke the fire.

“I’m not,” Joel argues, his voice calmer than you expect, thinking back to the saddled rage his voice held the night you arrived, the threat that lingered with every word, “I’m not, alright?”

“Then stop that.” You comment, waving your hand in a vague motion toward his face, “Stop looking at me like—”

“Like what?” Joel interjects, eyes more pensive as he looks over at you.

“Like—like I need a fucking lecture on life or my choices,” You tell him, a hint of pleading in your voice, “I’m not some kid who doesn’t understand how life works.”

“You’re not a kid—”

“Good, great that we established that,” You lean back in the seat more comfortably, arms crossed over your chest as you keep your eyes on the snow covered road, “now shut up so I can enjoy the music.”

Thankfully, Joel does just that.

Conversation falls flat until you arrive at the store in town a while later, Joel fetching a cart and pushing it your way before he stops you suddenly, hand over your own again—a touch that normally you would flinch away from, but he’s already done it once before and the thought doesn’t even cross your mind.

“I’ll catch up,” Joel tells you, “I forgot somethin’ in the car.”

You glance back briefly, knowing that the walk isn’t that far.

“Oh, I can wait. It’s fine.”

Joel doesn’t say so much, but the look in his eyes goes a long way. A silent plea for you to go with it and don’t ask questions—again, you didn’t have any right to. You nod quickly and wander off toward the store as Joel trails away.

It’s then when your phone starts to vibrate away in your pocket, the sudden availability of service sending a barrage of notifications your way—you’re terrified to take a glimpse, but you do anyway. It should be no surprise to bear witness to the many, many texts from your mother wondering where you’d run off to, but there’s a tinge of guilt settling in your stomach.

You send her a quick, dismissive text to explain that you were fine and enjoying your time, but no elaboration on the things she wanted to know, because really, there was nothing to tell. And if you did decide to expel the details of your trip, mentioning that there was no boyfriend and it was just a stranger you met in the middle of the woods, well…that wouldn’t go over smoothly.

You also find a quick, heated moment of frustration to send an unpleasant text to the owners of the cabin, still polite enough that it wouldn’t warrant your ability to work things out—and you decide that calling would reach them faster, that somehow they’d magically find a way to appear and fix things, but there’s no answer. Only a voicemail that gave vague details about being away on their own vacation.

Just your luck.

Great. You sigh deeply, shoving the phone away into your pocket and returning to the land of obliviousness as you step inside the small market.

You fend for yourself for a while, throwing several random necessities in the cart as you go, enough sustenance to spread over four weeks and manage meals the entire trip, also a few more bottles of alcohol don’t hurt, looking for a few hard liquors that catch your eye and adding them to the growing supply of items.

You’re lost in concentration of the ingredients on the back of a box dinner when Joel’s voice startles you back to the real world, eyes jumping up to look at him and he spots the panic immediately.

He nods slightly when you recognize him, “Sorry, keep forgettin’ how jumpy you are.”

“You’re just ridiculously fucking quiet,” You tell him, breathing out a long sigh as you toss the box into the cart, “everything alright?”

“Yeah,” Joel assures, doesn’t elaborate. Okay, cool. You weren’t going to pry, no matter how much your instincts told you to. He scans the cart casually, “Mind tradin’ off?”

You lend him the lead and follow, watching as he pointedly finds things, like he’s reading off a list in his head and moves around the store with a purpose. It’s only slightly annoying that you have to keep pace with him, but he’s suddenly speaking out to you as he’s glancing over something on the bottom shelf, “Are you allergic to anything?”

“No,” You responded, eyebrows knitting together in confusion, “Why?”

“Grab some of that fresh rosemary,” Joel says, pointing out somewhere behind you and you whip around, eyes searching furiously and coming up empty, “—find it?”

You’re a little dumbfounded as you search the shelf of fresh herbs, Joel’s heavy footsteps approaching behind you as he reaches over your shoulder and plucks the exact thing he’s looking for with ease, “Hey, I had the right idea.” You defend, noticing how amused he looked at your befuddlement, “And you didn’t answer my question, either.”

“Well,” He tosses the small, plastic package in the cart, still tucked up at your side and you can feel his body heat, the solid wall of his chest against your shoulder, “don’t like the idea of accidentally killin’ you if I cook something you’re allergic to.”

“Well, what if I’m lying?” You challenge and Joel shoves you aside gently to grab the cart, hands on your shoulder as he shifts you away—and when had things gotten so…touchy?

Truthfully, Joel finds it easier than telling you, noting how quickly you quiet down when he asserts himself and does rather than asks. He knows if it made you uncomfortable you wouldn’t have had a problem speaking up immediately.

“Look at me,” And there’s a deep timbre to his voice that has your chest sparking like a fire, eyes connecting with Joel’s for longer than you’ve ever allowed and it’s like he sees right through you, but he’s searching for something, “—you’re not lyin’.”

“But, if I was?”

Joel nearly leaves you in the dust, but turns to look at you with a subtle grin.

“Well, now I know you’re not.”

–

The ride back is easier, much easier—and Joel doesn’t fault you when you fall asleep halfway through, the heat of the car and the low hum of the music like a perfect mix as you curl in on yourself. Joel wakes you with a gentle hand on your shoulder when you finally make it back, allowing you a moment to shake the grogginess away with a word over his shoulder as he opens his door.

“Careful over that patch of ice on your side,” Joel instructs, “gettin’ colder so it’s slicker than it was a couple days ago.”

Careful. You roll your eyes carelessly, nudging the door open with your shoulder and hopping out, boots hitting the hard ground—your first mistake was underestimating the slickness and Joel’s warning, because the moment you take your first step it’s all downhill. Literally.

Luckily though, like a moment of divine faith as you pray that you don’t hit the ground, Joel is right at your back, arms slipping under your own as he plants his feet firmly and catches you. One arm crossing somewhere over your midsection and the other wrapping around your shoulder, a large palm holding you steady as he helps you back to your feet. You can feel him on the brink of making a comment, eyes looking down tenderly into your own—

“Don’t ask.” You warn him bitterly, face scrunched up like a kicked puppy, shrugging him off lazily. Joel doesn’t argue, making sure you’re steady before he allows you himself to fully let go.

Joel shakes his head subtly, a nuisance of his, and rounds the back of the truck to reach for the bagged groceries, “Fine, I’ll just say I told you so then. How’s that?”

Worse.

Joel never asks for help, doesn’t even seem bothered when you stand there aimlessly, watching him stow away the groceries like he already had a game plan and you feel slightly useless, but it does give you a good opportunity to watch without any explicit reason or excuse.

There’s an obvious purpose to Joel’s movement, clear that he’s used to doing a lot of heavy lifting and keeping up, probably prefers organization over clutter, and has a certain inclination to do things himself, always. And you can’t help the way your gaze clings to his face, noticing something a little off—not good or bad, just slightly different. You hadn’t noticed it this morning, but with the extended amount of time your eyes lingered on him, you realize he’s cleaned up a bit, shaved his beard down to near stubble, a subtle difference…but you notice.

You’re not sure how long you’re stuck in this state, arms resting against the counter as you stood there, practically useless, thinking about what Joel looks like on a regular basis, when he isn’t cooped up in a cabin in the dead of winter. You want to see that side of him, crave it. It’s an insane thought that doesn’t make sense, eyes widening suddenly at the realization of the thought you’re having—

“You still with me?” Joel’s voice calls out in the haze, muffled slightly as you come back into focus, eyes landing on him. “Think I lost you there for a minute.”

“Oh—no. I mean, yeah. I’m still a little tired, I guess.” It’s a bold face lie, but Joel seems to believe you. “Why?”

“I was sayin’ I need to go chop up some wood for the fireplace,” He explains again, “then you went all wide eyed…”

“Oh, okay,” You nod jerkily, “...do you need help?”

Joel immediately declines. No surprise there.

“Why don’t you get some sleep?” Joel suggests, “I can manage just fine on my own.”

Sleep sounds great, but it doesn’t happen.

You try—you do, but the splitting of wood, the strong crack of the axe catching the wood outside of your bedroom window, it isn’t exactly soothing to the ears. So, you find yourself wandering into the kitchen, peeking between the curtains with a wild curiosity that reminds you of when you were younger and trying to catch a peek of the cute boy next door, a bashfulness replaced with a deep, insatiable hunger that you didn’t know existed until this moment.

Joel was attractive, you could easily admit that. But, seeing him now, it’s a done deal. There was a deep pit of despair in your mind and you were stuck at the bottom with no way out.

It’s almost abysmal how easy he makes it look, the axe he’d brandish as his weapon of choice against you swung over his shoulders, the unfortunate lack of skin stretching over taut muscles as he went through the motions, covered up by thick layers. But, you get the idea.

There’s a slight pout forming on your face before you catch yourself.

He slices full power through the wood like it was eager to give way to him. You also find that his face tugs up in a scowl after every swing of the axe, a soft sigh of exerted energy as he tosses the logs to the side and starts up again. You could watch for hours. But, you settle for the few more minutes he spends collecting the wood before you’re scrambling back into your bedroom like you had been there the entire time.

Unfortunately, Joel isn’t oblivious. Still, he spares you the embarrassment.

There was no reason for him to entertain whatever he thought might be going on. He couldn’t.

The next few days are uneventful, though that was to be expected. It allows you time to really settle in, usually curled up on the couch watching the fire crackle away until you thought your eyes might melt away, or reading a book that Joel always seemed to be trying to catch a peek at. There was an innocent curiosity there that you could appreciate.

You also learned that Joel only took his coffee one way, offering up your services to refill his cup while you refilled your own, sugar lingering over the rim and he’s quickly pushing away the small container of crystalized goodness.

“Joel, come on–” You grimace but relent, placing the cylinder of sugar on the counter.

“Don’t knock it ‘til you try it.” Is all he offers, almost challenging you to take a sip.

You accept, obviously. But, it isn’t without consequence.

The moment the bitterness hits your tongue you’re scrambling away, forcing the mug into Joel’s waiting hands and spitting out whatever putrid liquid remained in your mouth in the sink.

It’s the first time Joel actually laughs, a full on chuckle that isn’t very receptive on your end.

Joel apologizes with dinner that night, a gesture that wasn’t expected or needed, still you’re thankful nonetheless. But, it offers you the realization of just how good a cook Joel can be.

Steaks grilled to a perfection that only came with repetitive practice and learned techniques, vegetables sautéed and seasoned to an enjoyable level, and a side of pasta that if Joel told you he made from scratch, you would’ve believed wholeheartedly if you hadn’t seen him dump the entire box of pre-made pasta into a pot of boiling water.

You’re halfway through dinner, chewing thoughtfully on a bite when you finally break the long, but comfortable silence that had blanketed over you both.

“So, Joel,” There’s a tone to his name that catches his attention, eyes flicking up to meet yours mid-bite, “what do you do for work?”

At this point, your nosey tendencies take hold.

There’s a scrunch to Joel’s nose before he speaks, almost as if he considered feeding you a lie alongside the beautiful meal he’d made. He settles for a simple answer.

“Uh, carpentry.” Joel tells you after a long pause, “I—build stuff for people, businesses sometimes.”

That explains some of his sturdiness, his practiced strength that came from, probably, years of hard constructive work and building. It also explains why he’s also working away at his hands, rubbing out the stiff joints and knuckles.

“I know what carpentry is, Joel.” You deadpan, but there’s a playfulness lingering in your voice.

You assume he’s used to explaining himself often, which is why he forces it on you so easily.

“And you?” Joel asks suddenly, “College? You’re about that age, right?”

You snort softly at the tone he offers, slightly patronizing, but all in good fun.

“I’m taking a semester off,” You answer indifferently, remembering how disappointed your parents had been about the ordeal, but you were suffocating, “I’m not sure what I want to do anymore.”

“Nothin’ wrong with that,” Joel assures, “can’t fault you either. Never went to college so I don’t have an opinion on it.”

There’s no judgment on your end, but for the sake of conversation, you bite.

“Any reason?” You ask curiously, wondering if you'd receive the similar sentiment that it’s all just bullshit.

“Didn’t have the money,” Joel answers simply, “didn’t have the grades, either. I thought I could start my own business out of carpentry, but…”

But…you lean into the table slightly, hanging on his words.

“You need a lot of money for that,” Joel finishes, “and, I mean, I’m livin’ comfortable now, but that idea took a lot of money that I didn’t and still don’t have.”

“So, you waste it on month long vacations in the middle of the woods,” You surmise humorously, nodding in approval, “can’t say I blame you, either.”

Joel shakes his head in amusement, chewing around a bite as he speaks, “Your turn.”

Right. An eye for eye. A question for a question. He's watching you expectantly, waiting for you to give a response to the same question you asked him.

“Oh—I work out of this bookstore in downtown Austin.” You admit, finishing up the last few bites of your food, scraping the plate nearly clean. “It pays the bills and then some. I like it.”

There’s no compliment needed for the food, all the evidence of it gone. But, you feel the need to appreciate it anyways.

“Thanks for this, Joel.” You speak again, softer this time.

“It’s no big deal, darlin’.” Joel assures you, holding up his hands in a feeble defense at the compliment, clearly something he doesn’t welcome easily. “Just food.”

“It’s been...months,” You tell him, “since I’ve had any type of home-cooked meal. Take the damn thank you, Joel.”

He smirks at that, seeing the threatening fork raise before you utter those final words.

“You’re welcome.”

And he means it.

–

You force Joel to stay seated while you clean, knowing it was the least you could do after he spent so much time preparing and cooking dinner. There’s a solid few minutes of arguing before you have to physically shove Joel back into his chair despite his protests, hands pressed into his shoulders as you threateningly speak down to him.

“If you move, I’m locking your ass out in the cold.”

Joel wouldn’t mind, but you’re silently hoping that he’ll just listen.

After all is done, tossing the damp washcloth to the side, you sigh with a newfound relaxation.

There’s only one thing that might top off this night, making it almost the first perfect day here.

“That’s it, I’m getting in the hot tub,” You decide, squeezing tenderly at the tense muscles of your neck, thankful that the owners had a small alcove connected to the cabin that allowed for you to enjoy the hot tub from the safety of the cold, “join me?”

You’re not sure what inclines you to ask so openly, but you don’t second guess it.

“While I appreciate the offer,” Joel starts, “I don’t think I brought the proper…attire.”

He’s still seated where you had him planted and it makes you laugh softly at the idea that he was taking it seriously, which—yeah, you did threaten the possibility of hypothermia on him.

“Fine,” You relent, rounding the corner of the island closest to him as you quickly call out over your shoulder, “but, there’s still a couple of chairs in there if you need the company.”

He didn’t need just anyone’s either and didn’t need, so much as wanted.

He wanted your company.

A while later, you’re already waist deep in the hot tub, figure hugging white bikini tied back securely, arms resting against the side furthest from the door as you press your chin against your forearms and staring out the wall of vast windows that line the room, allowing a view of the snow storm outside, coming down in a flurry that seemed to only be gaining in strength—and Joel, well, he’s still sitting in that stupid chair.

He’s allowed himself too much time in his own head, thinking over the events of the past few days. His call to Sarah was pleasant, a much needed moment of peace when he hears his daughter’s bright, hyper voice on the other end. When he doesn’t have her for the holidays, it’s hard. The calls are sparse, the communication is clipped, and it feels like he’s being forced away from her, knowing that she’s growing older every day. That he is growing older.

He’s allowed a lot of his life to slip away, when he wasn’t working to pay bills and put food on the table he was usually drinking, bar-hopping with Tommy at his old age to hide the pain he felt everyday, mentally and physically. There’s a problem brewing under his skin, using the company of his brother and alcohol to cope with loss he feels so viscerally everyday. The life he could’ve had.

He feels pitiful, miserable—only took this damn trip to get out of town by the suggestion of Tommy, away from all distractions, hoping for a refresh to clear his head. But instead, he met you.

He had no clue what the fuck to do anymore.

Joel’s never processed emotions well, feelings or anything thereof.

But, here he was, lusting after you.

He knows it’s the excitement, the taboo idea around sharing something special with a stranger. Someone who knows nothing about you, someone who doesn’t have the leverage to judge. Someone who doesn’t have to know about all the wrongs he’s committed and bad choices he’s made.

You’re not privy to the fucked up version of Joel that belongs in his hometown, cooped up in his childhood home that he inherited from his parents, filled with too many now painful memories that he’d made with Sarah when she was younger—when he still had her.

He can’t help the way his mind races every single second of the day, constantly worrying, always trying to busy himself with something, anything to keep that lingering cloud of anxiety away. But, when he thinks about you, even something so mundane as the way you squint to get a closer look at a paragraph of the book you’ve probably read a thousand times, his mind goes quiet.

Because, frankly, he’s fascinated by the idea of you. That maybe, just maybe, you weren’t actually real. He’s halfway leaning toward the idea that he’s had a full mental break and this is all an illusion he’s cooked up in his head, but then he reminds himself that you are just as full a human as himself. There is a reason for this, even if there had to be some other force at play.

Maybe you needed this as badly as he did.

A fresh start, no judgment.

And that’s why he decides to follow you, the moment he catches a glimpse of you as you turn the corner to take the steps down into the room that connected to the kitchen, a full glimpse of skin and body that he’s tried to keep his mind off of, despite how openly you stare at him.

There has to be something there. He can’t have imagined all of this.

You feel his presence when the creak of wood gives him away, one hand shoved into his front pocket and his other arm helping him stay upright as he leaned against the doorframe. The steam billows and settles like a cloud over the bubbling hot tub but does nothing to hide how see-through your bathing top is and the slick slope of your breasts, his eyes trailing down toward the small bow that was sewn to the midpoint of your top and know he’s staring at your chest, very openly—Joel’s immediately regretting his choice.

Your eyes follow his but you dare not speak, afraid to startle him.

Now who was the jumpy one?

“Change your mind?” You ask curiously, shimming the expanse of the hot tub as you grab onto the opposite ledge, resuming your previous position, closer to Joel now. If you reached out you could touch the edge of his flannel and soak the trim, maybe even pull him closer, but you resist the urge. “It feels amazing. I’m serious.”

It wasn’t a ploy to get him in, but it wouldn’t hurt. He doesn’t respond, eyes staring at the soft wave of the water as it hits your side, his posture rigid.

Maybe you’d broken him.

“Joel,” You call out with a soft nudge to his thigh, as far as you could reach with your fingertips, cutting into his line of sight, offering a friendly smile, “just strip down to your underwear and get in.”

“I don’t think—”

Oh, for christ sake.

“You wouldn’t have come over here if you weren’t at least thinking about enjoying the benefits of the hot tub,” You argue, “so stop being grumpy and strip. I won’t even look.”

It shouldn’t sound as gritty as it does, a playful venom in your tone as you sink back slightly.

It makes Joel feel like he’s back in high school, flirting with who would eventually be his ex-wife and mother of his daughter, but there’s an assertiveness that intrigues Joel, your willingness to put yourself out there without fear. Take a leap, a jump, and hope that someone will catch you.

Joel caught you, he just needed someone to catch him.

You spot his fidgeting, the wheels and cogs in his mind turning and he just needs that shove.

Just enough.

You rise over the edge, palms pressed flat to bear your weight and squeeze your breasts together, belly button nearly level with the water as you’re close enough to see the fine details of his face, giving him a look that Joel couldn’t deny.

“Get. In.” You stress the words, making direct eye contact. “You can thank me later.”

Finally, he moves.

You sink back slightly into the pool and wade the water until you hit a corner, watching briefly as Joel works away at the buttons on his flannel, quiet air filling with an unspoken tension. You try to busy yourself with the view outside, something that didn’t require you to look in the vicinity of Joel for a second, knowing that the moment felt more intimate than it needed to. But, it doesn’t stop that sparse glances over your shoulder to check on him, now barefoot and pulling his shirt over his shoulders, the fabric pulling and obscuring your view of his face and his view of you, staring so starkly at him in that moment.

It shouldn’t surprise you, but it does. The freckles that speckle his shoulders, nearly invisible from this distance because of his tanned shoulders and the unevenness of the tan as it continues down his arm, varying in shades of intensity, undoubtedly from hours of working in the sun. There’s also a smaller patch of hair on his chest that with his short cropped beard, seems to be trimmed down too. His strong build doesn’t throw you off, though—solid muscle that flexed across his stomach as he yanked his shirt a little harder to get it over his head fully, not built in a way that rippled down his abdomen, but showed a sturdiness to his figure that had your body humming to a tune that reached down to your core, thighs squeezing together under the water.

Joel passes the shirt off into a waiting arm chair, clothes slowly piling on the cushion alongside your towel and he pops the button on his jeans, still unaware of your…innocent observation. But, the moment the jeans stretch over his thighs you swallow a little too hard and you’re immediately averting your eyes when he looks up briefly.

Like you’d been caught.

Joel clears his throat like a warning, as if he hadn’t felt your eyes on him the entire time, and swings a leg over carefully, a view of the black briefs that molded to his skin perfectly and hugged his backside in a way that feels criminally illegal…and you’re staring again.

He hisses at the sudden change in temperate, but inch by inch he lowers and adjusts, eventually huffing out a low groan, eyes closed, when he finally settles on the seat inside of the tub.

Suddenly, this felt like a terrible idea.

“See?” You break the revered silence for him, “Worth it?”

“Almost forgot how you just bullied me in here.” He jokes—full on fuckin’ jokes before cracking an eye open to catch your reaction, a subtle look of disbelief on your face. “I’m kidding, darlin'.”

Your fingers tighten around the edge of the seat under the water and you smile, a half-hearted roll of your eyes thrown his way before you relax too, for a moment.

“This is so weird,” You speak softly, after a while, and Joel looks slightly puzzled as he opens his eyes fully now, perking up slightly as he adjusts himself, chest rising over the water slightly, his arms hanging over the ledge with his fingers gripping the ceramic—and you’re gaze is drifting again, mostly to his hands, but you mask it as you look away briefly, down the hall or out the window. Literally anywhere but Joel, “it’s just—not how I expected things to go.”

“You’re tellin’ me.” Joel replies with an underlying amusement.

As the quiet settles, slowly drifting closer to one side, where you originally were when Joel came searching for you—voluntarily, he lingered and waited, waited for the push you gave him—Joel joined alongside you, burrowing himself in the closet corner nook and enjoying the view in silence.

“You’re awfully quiet,” Joel comments, “everything alright?”

Everything was fine and you couldn’t make complete sense out of it. The ability to be so inherently comfortable with someone you’ve only known for a little under a week, the attraction you felt despite your own rational thinking telling you otherwise, the urge to connect openly and without fear of judgment. It terrifies you.

“Can I ask you a question?” You ask quietly, “Like…a real question, not those superficial ones that we’ve thrown at each other.”

Joel doesn’t like the sound of it, but there’s also the inclination that he could feed you a total lie and you wouldn’t have any idea otherwise.

He nods, fist resting against his cheek as he turns to look at you and suddenly the pressure is on, your heart racing in your chest at his sudden, full attention.

“Earlier…you said you forgot somethin’ in the car,” Joel’s fist clenches unknowingly under the water, an instinct to bury his reaction, “I know it isn’t my business, but I was just curious what is was.”

Joel, against every fiber in his being that tells him to deflect, gives you a straight answer. It’s almost startling how easily it comes out, like he’s lifting a weight off his chest that he’s carried for years.

“I had to make a call,” Joel admits, “to uh—my daughter, she’s back home with her mom.”

Your brow pulls together in confusion, “Wait, are you married?”

Joel somehow amidst the heaviness of admitting his truth still laughs, quick to defend himself from your next question.

“Oh, not at all. Never, actually.” Joel responds, “We…I never married her mom, it was obvious pretty quickly we weren’t going to work well together.”

The answer is simpler than you expect, different too. Part of you wondered if he was pleading his own case to the owners and was just as unsuccessful as you, but this is much more vulnerable.

And despite your ability to lie, and his own, neither of you can force it.

You don’t pry further, feeling like it may push things too far. Too personal.

“Okay, your turn.”

“Do I scare you?” Joel asks suddenly, almost like he’s been anticipating the moment too.

You’re almost sure the expression you return makes you look insane, feeling the implication that he might, that he thinks—it’s so far left field that it throws you off.

“No—no,” You quickly reject any lingering doubt he has, “I mean…the first night, maybe. But, now…no.”

“Oh.” It’s all Joel can muster, unsure of why he was expecting a different answer. That you would say yes and whatever shroud of thought he had about this moment you were sharing was only out of fear, that you were just trying to be polite.

“Look, I get jumpy because you sneak up on me,” You answer, “and you have this…presence about you,” Okay, not the best wording, “not scary or anything, just…strong.” Big, like a wall. Like, if anyone were to ever approach you wrongly, Joel would attack without question. And maybe the fact that he would do that should scare you, but instead, it entices you.

Joel sits with the implication, burdened by his own mind.

You can see him lost in thought, speaking with a comforting surety, “Thank you…for telling me.”

The truth. Thank you for telling me the truth.

The next stretch of time, what feels like an hour, is spent in a comforting silence. You think Joel is nearly falling asleep but then he moves, make a comment about how the snow won’t let up and eventually you’re forcing yourself out of the hot tub, reaching over the side to snatch your towel and sending all of Joel’s clothes descending to the floor in the process and as if you had a death wish on Joel, your ass pops up at an angle that is physically impossible to look away from.

Joel is a gentleman, he swears. He was raised to respect and care and always put women first, but there’s a split second where he can’t pull his eyes away, feels like he’s just caught a glimpse of something he shouldn’t have, but then you’re turning your head over your shoulder and you definitely catch him—you could ruin the moment and say something or you could ignore it.

Fortunately, you save Joel some embarrassment, covering it with a sly smile as you apologize for dropping his clothes and take the final step out and wrap the towel around your body.

“Shit,” You quickly realize that in the midst of your pushing Joel to join you that he didn’t have a towel, “stay here—I’ll go grab you a towel.”

Joel wasn’t eager to move anyways, admittedly. Sporting half a hard-on under the water, he wouldn’t subject himself to the scrutiny of your gaze or what implications it would make, thinking every horrible possible thought to will it away—luckily your timing is perfect.

You quickly gather his dropped clothes and pile them in the chair as you toss the towel his way, ignoring any and all chances to glimpse at his wet body, back turned as you quickly excuse yourself away in fear of the idea that you might say something unforgettably stupid.

The walk to your separate bedroom is quick, swift, like a desperately needed escape.

But, as fate would have it, the moment you open the door and wretch the towel away from your body there’s a loud pop! to your left and a spark on the outside that has you halfway on the floor and slamming into the wall out of both shock and an attempt to shield yourself from whatever unseen force was at play, yelping out loud in the process.

From an outside perspective, you can understand why Joel doesn’t hesitate to come running.

He runs straight into your back, bare chest pressed against your know bare shoulders and leaving you half-dressed in front of him, scared out of your wits and willing to grab onto whatever was nearby to keep you upright—fortunately, Joel’s arm is the perfect anchor as your hand wraps around his wrist and squeezes.

“What the hell?” Joel inquires, slightly out of breath as he searches your face for any signs of injury, “What happened?”

You both look at the culprit—the heated window unit that was no longer expelling heat, and while the cabin was still heated, it didn’t reach the bedrooms well enough that you weren’t shivering without some type of additional help. You sigh in frustration, eyes turning up towards the ceiling as you feel no shame, too frustrated to care as you lean into Joel’s chest.

“Shit.” It’s all Joel offers as a solution, not that you were expecting one. But, still, it would be nice.

“Yeah, shit.” You echo, pushing away from him suddenly to gather your damp towel and a change of clothes, padding your bare feet toward the living room, but Joel is grabbing your wrist before you get too far from him.

“Hey, woah,” He starts in a calmer tone, “you can take my room—I’ll drive into town tomorrow and see if I can get ahold of the owners, we’ll figure something out.”

“I already tried calling them,” You admit, “Earlier. Straight to voicemail and something tells me they won’t be answering their phones until after the holidays.”

Pulling away again, you continue your way toward the living room and gather a few pillows and blankets, tossing them on the larger couch beside the fireplace. Joel doesn’t seem to entertain the idea, following on your heels as he gathers each item you throw in that direction and you finally reach a point of full, unrestrained frustration.

“Joel, cut the shit.”

“Take the room,” He offers as a counter, “I can sleep on the couch.”

With his back? Not a chance. But, he offers anyway.

“Fuck off,” You chuckle bitterly, “I’m not forcing you out of the bedroom.”

“Then it looks like we’re sharin’ the living room.”

You close your eyes, toss the blanket aside and breathe, clenching and unclenching your fists in an effort to not completely lose it on the man standing opposite of you.

Chivalry be damned, Joel wasn’t giving in.

Fine, two could play at that game.

“I’ll take the bed.” You quickly agree, but there’s a lingering ultimatum.

Joel waits, sees the thought brewing behind your pensive eyes.

“But, so will you.”

“Now—”

“No,” You interject, putting your figurative foot down, suddenly vividly reminded of your vulnerability as you stood there, still slightly damp and in a swimsuit that did nothing to cover your body—it was the reason Joel’s eyes were so pointedly stuck on your face, never lingering elsewhere, “either we both sleep in here on the couch or we share the bed.”

Joel’s hands shift to his hips, towel tight around his waist and you’re too annoyed to admire the way his muscles tense and flex with the movement, the underlying thickening desire settling beneath the surface.

You match his stance, daring him to challenge you.

A small part of you wants him too.

—

“Anyone ever told you you’re damn stubborn?” Joel asks, trailing behind you as you enter his bedroom, a clone of your own but with a small bathroom attached.

“All the time.” You answer truthfully. “I’m going to shower and sleep—no funny business.”

Meaning if Joel did sneak away into the living room to offer up the full amenities of his own room, he would feel your wrath tenfold.

Joel resigns to the idea and gathers his own pair of fresh clothes before disappearing into the bathroom down the hall, leaving you both to a moment of levity.

There’s no anticipation to the arrangement—but the idea is there, burrowing into the back of your mind.

You’re sleeping with a stranger…someone you knew little to nothing about, but it was your choice. And you trusted your gut.

Joel was safe, he was good.

You relax under the spray of hot water, a different heat to the one you enjoyed just a while ago, the type that allowed your thoughts to roam, and you laugh softly at the sight of Joel’s shower supplies, knowing he was stuck with whatever you brought—it wasn’t something you thought about in the moment, but there’s a brief realization that he was sharing a moment similar to your own, scowling at the sight of your fruity scented body wash that you left on the shelf there. It wasn’t a huge deal, Joel wouldn’t fuss over it.

But, it also lends your mind to roam more.

As if his bare chest wasn’t already at the forefront, and his eyes as they had stared at you so unabashed until the moment he was caught, all innocent looks with deeper intentions that invaded your mind like a plague.

You were so fucking frustrated—annoyed with him, the state of your life, this stupid vacation. With the suds gone and the water drowning out the silence you allow yourself one—just one moment of selfishness...

And as if the house was the biggest tattletale of them all, the floor creaks on the other side of the door.

“Joel?” You call out curiously, as if an intruder in the middle of nowhere was even likely.

There’s several seconds of silence before Joel finally answers.

“Yeah?”

“Your body wash sucks.” You goad lightly, hoping to ease the earlier frustration that had grown between you both, and while you can’t see him, you can hear his laughter on the other side of the door.

“Can’t say yours is any better.”

You smile to yourself, the way he responds with fondness that he tries to hide.

When you finish up and dress, peeking your head out before you move to open the door fully, Joel is already on his side, turned away. It was obvious that he didn’t want to be bothered. The small blanket of division rolled and wedged in the center of the bed like a barrier, a warning.

Keep your distance and you both may manage to survive the rest of this vacation.

Thank you for reading this to the end! If you enjoyed please extend a like or reblog (with a comment if you'd like, i love reading them <3) to support writers, it helps a ton!

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller smut #joel miller x female reader #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #pedrostories #MMITW #pedro pascal characters #joel miller x fem!reader #my writing #let's just pretend ellie isn't in that gif lmao

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bonny-kookoo · 5 months

Text

Jungkook

𝓐𝓷𝓰𝓮𝓵 𝓦𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼 | Intro

Jeon Jungkook truly fell for you- more than once.

Tags/Warnings: (fallen)Angel!Jungkook, Somewhat strangers to lovers, Fluff, Angst, some religious themes but only mentioned, clumsy romance, Flirting

Length: was supposed to be a oneshot, idk how long this is

Masterlist TBA.

There is no taglist for this fic.

⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──🪽── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅

Your neighbor is a genuine angel. At least, you're convinced he is.

From what you know, he works as a gym instructor, but part-times at a local animal shelter where he helps with the heavy lifting and more physically demanding jobs. He's been in your town's local newspaper last week for building multiple new sheds there, so that the dogs have more opportunities to stay outside whenever they'd like while still being able to have shelter as well. He's helped you earlier this month to bring your groceries upstairs when the elevator was out of service, having found you struggling since you'd injured your leg.

He'd instantly helped you, offering to even go out and get you whatever you'd need during your time of recovery, and honestly, you wonder how that guy is still single.

You know he is, because your best friend, Jane, works at the shelter he helps out at. And according to her, he turns every woman (and even man) down whenever he's asked out. Apparently, he's not looking for anything at the moment.

What a bummer.

What's also odd about him, is his.. weird timing. He's always somewhere around whenever you're in trouble. From almost tripping on the stairs in the apartment building, to not properly looking both ways before crossing the road and almost getting run over- he's there to save you.

Ever since he moved here, about half a year ago, he's always been there last second to somehow pull your ass back from sure death or injury.

You're not sure what to think of it, currently playing with some puppies in the shelter while your friend cleans up the area they live in. "Maybe he's into you?" She wonders, putting the broom to the side. "I mean, could be."

"Wouldn't he have asked me out in that case?" You ask back, not convinced.

"Maybe he's shy?" She shrugs, sitting down with you now to occupy the playful young animals currently excitedly running around and occasionally nipping at your finger. "Just cause he's a looker doesn't mean he's also confident. He might be a softy." She tells you.

"He could be your early Christmas present you know?" She laughs, and you roll your eyes at that. "What? Looks like an angel to me!" She jokes, and you shake your head at that.

"The only angels I see are currently eating your jacket." You tease, making her quickly move to pull the zipper from one impish puppy who's trying to chew it up, successfully pushing the topic to the side for the moment.

You don't like talking about dating, and potential relationship, and all that stuff. You're awkward, meeting new people is awkward, and in the past, most of those connections frayed apart sooner or later either way.

So what's the point?

"Hey." Comes a voice you've come to know by now, from outside the gates and fences. "You ready to go?" He asks you, and you look at him, wide eyed and confused.

"Oh right, fuck!" Jane curses. "I can't drive you home today, so I asked Jungkook if he'd do it and he said sure!" She beams at you, while you glare with the most forceful gaze you can muster. "Don't look at me like that, see it as a chance!" She hisses, and you get up slowly to dust yourself off and grab your jacket from the top of the fence.

You're careful not to let any of the dogs out while leaving, before you wave at Jane who's giving you a cheesy thumbs up.

"I hope it's fine that I'm driving you." Jungkook offers kindly next to you.

"Ah, yeah, no issues." You brush it off. "Just.. weird."

"Weird?" He wonders, opening the main gate for you to step out before he closes it again, and leads you towards his car to open the passenger door for you. "I hope you know I'm not going to kidnap you." He jokes, and you playfully look at him with suspicion, before getting in and letting him close the door for you.

"I don't think you'd do that." You say, buckling your seatbelt while he smiles to himself as he starts the car. "It's just that.. it feels like you're always helping me, but I don't ever really get to know you past that." You shrug, as he maneuvers the car out of the parking lot to drive you both home.

"Would you like to get to know me past that?" He wonders, and again, you shrug.

Because you're not sure if you want that, considering that you don't even know if you want to only get to know him as a friend, or potentially more. Social interactions aren't what you're comfortable with, after pretty much isolating yourself with your job from home and disconnecting from past friends that turned out to be just interested in your monetary help- but nothing else.

And at some point, you just couldn't take the humiliation any longer.

"I don't know." You say because of that. "I'm not sure if that's a good idea." You admit.

"How so?" He asks, stopping at a red light to tap his fingers on the steering wheel to the soft beat of the car radio playing quietly in the background. "I'm not out for a one night stand or anything." He shrugs. "You're really pretty, and I think it's only fair to let you know that right from the start." he says.

"Why would that be something I need to know?" You wonder, and he smiles as he starts driving again as soon as the lights turn green.

"So that you know that I consider you attractive." He admits. "that I'm open to letting things become intimate, if we end up getting along well. And so that you know how to interpret my actions and words, you know?"

This is new.

You're not used to guys talking to you like this- usually, they're always incredibly cryptic, never open, never putting their cards on the table like Jungkook does right in this moment. And maybe that's what's so comforting to you right now.

Maybe that's what's making you trust him.

"Would you.." You begin, the familiar streets giving you the hint that you're close to home. "Do you.. I wanted to bake cookies today." You mumble out.

Jungkook chuckles, smiling. "That sounds cool." He comments, and you know exactly that he's teasing. "I actually know how to bake pretty decently too." He jokes, and you glare at him from the passenger side, as he parks the car in his designated spot. "What?" He looks at you, laughing.

"I take everything back, I don't like you." You cross your arms, and he grins-

Well aware that you're not being serious at all.

He's an angel after all. How could you not fall for him?

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #bts smut #bts jungkook imagine #jungkook x reader #bts jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook fanfic #bts jungkook x reader #bts jungkook drabble

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cilliansmesoftly · 1 year

Text

all mine

summary: you told austin if he won the golden globe that you’d let him do anything to you.

warnings: smut, oral (fem & male receiving), throat fucking, bondage, orgasm denial, overstimulation, spit, choking, etc.

you lazily sat atop austin’s lap, lips pressed to his neck, breathing heavy and moaning softly every now and then when you ground your hips into his. your lips found their way to his ear where you whispered, “if you win tomorrow night, i’ll let you do anything you want to me.” you ended your sentence with a peck to his lobe and austin strangled out a moan.

“guess i have all the more reason to try and win, don’t i, doll?”

༉‧₊˚✧

your eyes closed, fingers crossed, praying to anything that could hear you.

“…and the award goes to….” the presenter, liticia wright, dragged. your hand was intertwined with austin’s, ready to face whatever happened next.

“austin butler.” your head snapped over to your boyfriend, your other half, his head was bowed and you could tell he was already holding back tears of joy. he put his life into this movie. he risked his relationship with you, his family, his friends, everything. and it was finally paying off.

you, along with everyone at the table stood up in a standing ovation. austin gave his sister, ashley, a hug first with a kiss pressed to her cheek, then to baz who looked like the proudest person to ever exist. and finally, he turned to you. his smile was wide and he hugged the life out of you, whispering his gratitude and love before he pulled away, not without leaving a searing kiss to your lips. you wiped under your eyes, laughing along with ashley.

you watched as he made his way up to the stage, shaking hands with quentin tarantino and brad pitt on his way up. his speech was beautiful and you couldn’t help but to shed a few tears during it. the crowed erupted with applause once again when he was finished and you couldn’t wait to see your boy, your winner, again in a few moments.

༉‧₊˚✧

you and austin attended the after-party for a little while, before you both decided to go home. you couldn’t keep your hands off of each other. his hands were either always clutching yours or attached to your waist, never leaving his side for a second.

“you remember our deal?” austin asked you on the way home, hand on your thigh and music playing softly from the radio.

“hm?” your brows furrowed before they shot up in realization. “aren’t you tired?”

“i couldn’t sleep right now even if someone injected melatonin into my veins.” you laughed at this, you were both pretty wired from all the adrenaline and you were getting heated just from the thought of what he’d planned.

“anything you want, baby.” you patted the hand that was on your thigh and leaned over to kiss his cheek.

“good thing we’re here, don’t know how much longer i can go without touching you.” you squirmed at his words, cheeks tinting a shade a pink. the driveway seemed to go on for too long and you took your seatbelt off as soon as the car was in park. you stepped out of the car, waiting for austin to join you at your side. he held his award in one hand and reached for yours with his other. the two of you giggling like kids all through the house.

you kicked off your heels at the door, telling austin you were going to the bathroom. you turned down the hallway, hiking up your dress a bit so you didn’t trip and made your way to the master bath. austin came in right after you, seeing you struggle with the clasp of your necklace.

“let me.” he said gently, moving your hair off your neck and his touch sent chills up your spine. he undid the clasp and pressed a kiss to your shoulder blade. you turned to him, your hands going around his neck. he dragged his fingers from your wrists, to your shoulders and settling around your hips. he leaned down, capturing your lips into a sweet kiss. you wanted more, needed more. your hand pushed his head back towards you when he tried to pull away, your tongue tracing his bottom lip and he sighed at the contact, gripping your waist tighter. he wrapped his arms around your frame, hoisting you up onto the counter and your spread your legs for him to stand between them, the kiss never breaking.

“my winner.” you whispered, dragging your kiss to his neck, licking and sucking at every area of skin that was visible to you. “so talented, so fucking gorgeous. let me show you how much you mean to me.” austin groaned at your words, his head leaning back when he felt you slide off the counter, body right against his. you pushed him back just a bit and knelt down in front of him. you untucked his button-up, pulling his belt loose and watching his pants fall to the floor. his cock was begging for attention, hard and up against the waistband of his boxers. you palmed him over the fabric, hearing him hiss above you.

“so pretty, on your knees just for me. all mine. isn’t that right, baby?” austin’s words were quick and hoarse in his throat, neediness coating every syllable.

“all yours, honey.” you confirmed, looking up to make eye contact with the blonde as you tantalizingly pulled his boxers down.

“thought our deal was i could get to do whatever i wanted to you. not the other way around.” austin teased, jaw clenching as you licked the tip.

“you don’t want this?” you asked innocently, pretending to stand up, but austin laid a firm hand on your shoulder to keep you from getting up.

“don’t even fucking think about it.” he gritted and you smiled, going back licking the tip of his cock, leading up to the shaft and taking him wholly. he moaned your name, fingers gathering your hair into a ponytail to keep it out of your face. “let me fuck your throat, darlin’”

you responded by opening your mouth wider, relaxing your throat and letting him thrust into your mouth, you gagged around him, nails digging into his thigh. the pain only pushed him further, thrusting softly into your mouth. you squeezed your legs together, wetness surely seeping out your barely-there underwear. you dropped one of your hands that was on his thigh went to soothe your aching clit, trying to get any sort of pleasure.

“nope, can’t touch yourself yet, honey. wait until i tell you to do something. can you do that?” his tone was mocking and you looked up at him through your lashes, nodding. “such a good girl, i’m already close.” he pushed further into your mouth, thrusting a bit harder. he twitched into your mouth before pulling out and letting you jerk him off. your mouth was open wide, waiting greedily for all he had to give you. you sucked the tip, wrapping your hand around the rest of him and he came with a soft cry of your name, his cum spilling into your mouth and you swallowed all of it, milking his orgasm. “get undressed and get on the bed, i’ll be back in a second.” austin muttered, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips, tasting himself on your tongue.

you did as told as quickly as you could, slipping off your dress and drenched underwear. your wardrobe didn’t require you to wear a bra and you thanked the time saver. you walked over to the bed, sitting on your knees and patiently waited for austin to return to you.

it didn’t take long for him to come back to the bedroom, a black box in hand. you scrunched your brows in confusion. he laid the box on the nightstand and stood in front of you, he took off his suit jacket and loosened his tie before taking it off, too. his index finger and thumb gripped your chin and tilted your head up, he leaned down to kiss you. you tried to wrap your arms around him, but he pushed them back.

“no touching, no noises, and do not come until i tell you to. understood, princess?” austin whispered against your lips and your jaw dropped. this was something the two of you have never tried within the years of dating. you’d be lying if you said it didn’t make you even more heated, legs clenching in a desperate attempt to get any sort of pressure to yourself. you nodded, despite the nerves settled deep within your chest and austin hummed while smiling softly. “so good for me.” he pressed another kiss to your lips. “lay down, honey.”

and you did, you sat back so your head was just below where the headboard started and you laid your head comfortably on the pillow underneath. austin admired the sight in front of him for a few moments. you sprawled out, hair splayed on the pillows, legs smooth bent at the knees, arms outstretched the length of the bed. your lips, plump from all the kissing you two had done tonight, cheeks flushed, and eyes dazzling under the soft glow of the lamps on either side of the bed. you were a dream in austin’s eyes. so perfect and so pretty, he had never met anyone who made him feel the way you make him feel.

“take a picture, it’ll last longer.” you teased, biting away the smile that pulled at your lips. austin chuckled breathlessly and nodded. he grabbed the black box from the nightstand and set it beside you. you watched him take the top off, an array of items were tossed in and your eyes widened at the sensual black silk ties he pulled out. he looked up at you, asking silent confirmations and you nodded slowly.

“arms up, angel.” he knelt down beside you and you put your wrists together and brought them over your head. austin kissed each wrist before tying the silk around them and set them onto the bed post in the middle of the headboard. “not too tight?” you shook your head. he set the top of the box over it and discarded it back to the nightstand. he walked over to the center of the bed, admiring your submissive state, then laying down in front of you. you squirmed, just wanting his mouth, his fingers, anything. “be still.” he said, setting an arm over your hips to stall your movements. he blew onto your bare wetness, you shivered at the cool air. austin slowly, teasingly dragged his tongue up your slit, collecting all the arousal you had and you bit your lip to contain the sounds you so desperately wanted to make. “such a good girl, being so quiet.”

he halted his teasing by closing his lips around your clit, sucking the sensitive bud and moaning around you. he always thought you tasted so good, like fucking candy. he could never get enough of you. he focused his attention on your clit, his fingers finding your entrance and teasing you by prodding the tips of his fingers at your hole, but never going in. you huffed, back arching off the bed as he laughed around your bud, the vibration driving you to near insanity. he finally decided to give in to you, his fingers sinking deep in you and you gasped as he hit your g-spot. if you knew you wouldn’t get in trouble, you’d be almost yelling at the pleasure you were feeling, but you decided to play it safe.

just as quickly as austin dipped his fingers in, he pulled them out, replacing them with his tongue. he licked and slurped like this life depended on it, his nose was brushing your clit and he shook his head back and forth to give it some stimulation. the sensation was all too much and austin could tell you were close by how your breathing shallowed and your back arched higher and higher off the bed.

“don’t cum.” he warned. and you whined, the sound coming out as a choked sob. “you’re doing so good baby, just give me a few more minutes.” you pulled and tugged at the ties around your wrists, you wanted to touch him so badly. you wanted to hold his head to your center until you finished, you wanted to tug his hair how you knew he loved so deeply. you writhed and writhed, your orgasm approaching you faster than you could stop it. austin’s fingers were back inside you, thrusting and scissoring, his mouth was around your clit again. he was moaning around you on purpose, knowing it would bring you closer and closer to tipping off the edge. your thighs were shaking and your wrists were getting sore from how hard you were pulling. you were surprised the bed post didn’t break at the base. “okay, honey. let it go. all over me, on my tongue. can’t wait for you to cum all over my cock, sweet girl.” his words pushed you over the edge. your moans were nearly pornographic, your toes were curled, your head was lulled back against the bed, and austin nearly came just from the scene.

he stood back, taking off his dress shirt. he wiped his mouth off that was cover in your slick, licking his fingers. he leaned over you, skillfully untying the black silk and your hands immediately came to the sides of his face, bringing him down to kiss you. you moaned into it, his tongue pushed its way past your lips and massaged everywhere it could reach.

you could feel austin lining his cock with your entrance and let a drawn out moan as he pushed himself in. his head found solace in the space between your head and shoulder, leaving loving kisses while he waited for you to adjust around him.

“fuck me, austin.” you whispered into his ear, kissing just below it. you pushed his hair back away from his face, admiring his beauty. he was the embodiment of sunshine and you could never get away from him. he was like a drug, a euphoric drug that you never wanted to get sober of. “i’m all yours.”

“all mine.” he confirmed before pulling out and slamming back into you. you tossed your head back, your eyes clenched in pleasure. as he found his pace, you wrapped your legs around his waist, meeting his thrusts and forcing him deeper into you. he pulled back, sitting on his knees, to look at where you met. he locked in on the sight of your greed pussy taking him whole and you leaned up on your elbows to gaze as well. his hands trailed from your ankle, to your thigh, hoisting it back up around his waist to hit a new angle and fuck, you thought you were going to pass out.

“god, aus. fucking me so good, always take care of me. should win an award for best cock, jesus christ.” you praised through gritted teeth, falling on your back again. austin leaned your other leg back so it was closer to your head. you couldn’t form a single syllable, eyes rolling back and your second orgasm was near. you clenched around him, causing him to groan and tighten his grip on your legs.

“look at this perfect pussy, god. you’re so beautiful. taking me so well, letting me use you.” his words only turned you on further, your clenching was a silent message to him that you were close to coming. “hold out a second, baby. i’m almost there.”

“together?” you question sounded more like a statement and austin nodded, thrusting faster and harder into you. your fingers intertwined with his that was holding your leg. your stomach was churning, the pleasure becoming too much.

“ready?” you nodded, close to screaming. “1, 2, 3–” you felt his warmth fill you up, pushing you over the edge. your entire body was convulsing from the overstimulation, yours and austin’s juices dripping out of you and austin brought his finger up to gather some of it before letting you taste it. he marveled at the sight of you, so fucked out and so, so pretty. he leaned up, telling you to open your mouth and you did. his tongue dragged from your chin to your lips sensually before spitting into your open mouth. you swallowed it and austin smiled. “get up, want you to ride me.”

“aus, i can’t take—” he stopped your words by pressing a kiss to your lips and flipping the two of you over with ease. he was still inside you and the new angle caused him to hilt at your g-spot even sitting still. you huffed out a breath of pleasure, slowly beginning to bounce up and down on him. sounds of skin hitting skin and your wetness made austin impossibly harder and he had to bite his lip to hold off on finishing before you even started to ride him.

you already felt the exhaustion enter your body from all the previous orgasms austin pulled out of you. after the first few seconds, austin notice how you slowed down on him, just beginning to grind over his length. you hummed, mouth closed in a tight line as his tamed patch of hair brushed and tickled your clit. austin watched, wide-eyed, practically drooling over you. he brought his hands to your waist, lifting his hips up to trust into you. you cried out, his tip hitting your spot over and over again. you were seeing stars, your hand went to the headboard for support and austin took the opportunity to kiss, lick, bite, and suck at your tits. so perfect and perky, all his. he would never let you go.

“jesus, austin. fuck! i’m so close, baby.” you moaned, letting your hand travel down to your clit, rubbing circles over the bud. your thighs were spasming, your cunt clenching his cock more and more with every quick thrust.

“me, too, honey. come all over my cock, baby. just for me, give it all to me.” austin grunted into your ear, leaving sloppy kisses all over your neck. you came with cries of his name leaving your lips and that alone brought austin to his edge, eyes clenching shut, teeth grinding against each other, and heart pounding against his chest like a hammer.

you caught your breath, austin still inside you. he was kissing you sweetly, all over your chest, neck, shoulders, anywhere he could reach.

“i love you. my winner.” you grinned, forehead pressed against his.

“i love you, more. with all my heart and then some. all mine, pretty girl.”

#austin x reader #austin!elvis x reader #austin butler smut #austin butler #austin butler imagine #spotify #golden globes #austin!elvis smut #austin butler snl

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