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halcyone-of-the-sea · 5 months

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To Hunt a Silver Stag (III)

AU MASTERLIST || THE FINAL PART

PAIRING: Knight!Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick x F!Fae Princess!Reader

WORDCOUNT: 3.9k

WARNINGS: Talks of war, death, blood, gore, wounds, stitches, injuries, etc.

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

You struggle under the weight of the knight. So unused are you to have to travel as a regular, magic-less, being, that you feel your muscles tighten; coil. Aches form in places that have not had them since you were a small child…if an immortal being can even be considered a child, really.

You’d been walking for hours, and your hand was bright with the pain of iron affliction.

“Stag,” Gaz utters, eyes half-closed tight and his breath heaving. “You’re hurting yourself, Love.”

“I have it under control,” you level. Your lungs burn inside of your chest. “We have to keep moving to the border.”

“We can’t get there if you,” his voice cuts as he grits his teeth, though it comes back a moment later. “If you can’t walk.”

You slow, his arm over your shoulders heavy as you look over at him gradually. Sweat dribbles off of your nose, silver eyes dull and blurry. Your head is still light.

You’d both left the cliff-face cave with a long trail of blood leading behind—thankfully, the earth had been sympathetic to your cause. Without any magic to help, it had taken it upon itself to shatter the ground, erasing any trace along with your footprints. But even those forces can’t will the strength back into your body.

You stare into Gaz’s clenched face, his body shaking with all of his armor left behind except his cape, which hangs off of him to try and keep his bandages protected from dirt and dust.

Your expression goes grim.

If you wouldn’t stop for yourself…then you suppose you would have to stop for him.

“Alright,” you whisper, and your quivering feet stop. With a slow and easy motion, you slip out from under Gaz’s arm and grasp him carefully, letting his legs bend until he’s to the ground—back resting against a nearby rock.

“How are you feeling,” you ask, your lips already moving to his cheek. To give him a small sliver more.

Yet, before your flesh can move over his, a hand lightly grabs at your chin, stopping you. Freezing, you blink in surprise as Gaz tries a slow smirk.

“I’m flattered,” he chuckles weakly, nodding. “But you need to keep your strength. I can take it.”

You frown, only pulling back when his grip lowers back to his lap and he takes in a long inhalation, head leaning to connect to the stone behind him.

Lysander flutters over, resting atop the object as you watch him silently. Thinking.

Gaz won’t make it at this pace—those wounds all needed proper care, and even as experienced as you were, there’s little you can do without the proper tools.

You’d discarded your crown back near the cave, and while bone could be used as a needle in times of need, it would do the man more harm than good if you decided to take it up again. It had hurt something in you to leave it behind.

“You hand.” You blink, looking back to the knight after you register his words.

“Excuse me?”

Gaz smiles, head shifting on the rock as his chest rises and falls under his soiled tunic. Those browns of his are something of value to you, and your face heats even looking into them anymore. You glance away for a moment as he repeats himself.

“Let me see your hand, then. Haven't forgotten about it.” You sigh, fingers flinching.

Moving out your limb, you give it to him as his hands grasp your flesh, picking at his cape bandage until you watch it slip away like a leaf. The fabric is stiff with blood and puss, and under, burst blisters show themselves to air.

Your lips thin tightly at the sight, disgust in your heart before a hiss escapes you.

Gaz grimaces, sitting up a bit straighter. His fingers slide up your wrist, taking it softly and tilting your hand into the light. Looking, studying, he grunts and sends you a glance.

“I…I don’t know how to treat this.”

“You can’t,” you ease out, licking your lips at the knowledge.

Gaz’s brows furrow, a breeze going through the trees, ruffling your tattered dress.

“What’s that mean? Don’t tell me there’s no way to treat it. There’s freshwater—natural salves, I can make one if I can find—”

“Gaz,” you speak softly, tilting your head at him with a sad smile. The knight’s speech trails, his eyes hard on your face in an honest stubbornness. It nearly makes you chuckle as he squeezes your flesh as if trying to convince you of his skill.

“I have no doubt your understanding of medicinal herbs is vast,” you tilt your head. “But this is not a wound that even time can heal. The boils may fade, but the pain never will. It is a wound of iron. None of the Fae can fix such things.”

“Why in the bloody hell not,” he grunts, and this time you do chuckle. Gaz’s face becomes confused. “I’m not finding this all that funny, Stag.”

“No,” you sigh. “No, you’re not.”

Your eyes stare at him, those silvers glinting in the light of morning. He glares back, determined but losing that bead of understanding that he had been holding onto. Magic, the mortal man, was not used to. You explain the best you can, his hand still holding yours as if made of the finest glass ever melted.

“It’s just how we were made, Knight. Just as you were branded to die,” your heart seizes, “we were made to fear iron. It is one thing I will never have the privilege of knowing the answer to.”

Gaz’s face tightens, his body shifting until a prick of pain forces him to stop.

“It was my choice,” you try to relieve the burden.

“And a damn stupid one,” your eyes blink in shock.

A moment passes before your bell-like laughter echoes over the trees. The knight’s form stills to near statue-like motion as you do, gazing at your hand as the sound moves like starlight and caresses with its windish fingers.

“What is the word?” Your free hand covers your mouth, oblivious to Gaz’s heating cheeks and how his heart soars. “Lionhearted?”

“I’d move more to foolish,” he grumbles, rolling his shoulders. But you had entranced him yet again. Everything about you was…strange. New.

Beautiful.

“Perhaps I was borrowing some of that from you, then, Knight,” you watch Gaz rip a strip off his cape once more. He moves to tie a new bandage, doing it gently as your eyes are as malleable as water. “It is more of a human trait than Fae.”

A glance, paired with a layered smirk. “Rubbing off on you?”

“Seems it,” you slide a calm look his way, fingers flinching when his knot goes too tight.

He mutters a small apology, face worried before he hesitantly lets you go.

Suddenly, your lips are near his cheek, pressing a delicate kiss. But there’s no magic in it—no power surge that enters his muscles. Just a whisper of passion before it’s gone with an utterance of, “My thanks, Kindly Knight.”

Gaz is left breathless as you stand up, feet shifting away a few paces and looking around. He has to blink away the haze behind his mind and clear his throat before he can speak beyond a heavy stutter.

“It’s…it’s no problem.”

You hum, looking around in a slow circle, your gold belt is still here, resting just under the broken straps of your corset. The gold glints for a moment, and just as Lysander flutters off with little more than a bird-ish call to stay near, you sigh and shake your head.

“We have to move soon,” you say. Gaz agrees, ever the strategic mind.

“There’ll be hunting parties until we’re caught,” he huffs a chuckle. “While I can put in my trust that you’ll be okay, I, on the other hand…”

Brown eyes look down, narrowing at the carnage of his body. His bandages are heavy with blood, and everything has a buzzing sheen of numbness to the flesh.

“Well, let's just say that my odds aren’t looking that nice, yeah?”

“I’m not leaving you here,” you pass a firm sweep of your even gaze to him. “You’ve far earned my loyalty, Gaz, and I will not falter in my steadfastness in return.”

Under his breath, he grunts out a teasing, “Was hoping you’d say that.”

Without another word, your arm is once more slipping his waist—Gaz’s long limb going over your shoulder to rest before you help push himself up.

The man strangles down a sharp cry, agony ricocheting through every nerve and splintering out like bark.

“Fuck,” he hisses, clenching his teeth.

You stare from the side of your eye worriedly, pausing.

“It’s okay,” Gaz grumbles, reassuring you. He blinks for a moment, clearing out the black dots. “But wait a second for me.”

“Of course,” you begin but are cut off by the knight's arm moving away from you. A hand is placed on your shoulder, and your body is gently turned to the side. Gaz struggles on his feet for a moment, but he pauses until the abyss at the sides of his vision is gone.

“Let me…” Fingers dance over your corset straps, moving to tie the laces as best he can. “Tell me when it’s good, then, will you, Love?”

Again with that nickname—but even you can admit that there was an intoxicating electricity to your skin now. A deadly heat.

You stare ahead blankly as shaky fingers glide over the fabric, you hear the pulse of a fluttering heart that reminds you of a grand war horse; strong and firm. Gaz takes a deep breath through his nose, licking his lips slowly as he takes up the items and begins pulling lightly.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles, “it might end up being a bit loose. I have to leave the bottom loops open.”

Your gut swirls, moving to gaze over your shoulder with glimmering eyes. Gaz pointedly doesn’t meet it, fixing the stance of his feet. You stare, the fabric around your chest and back conforming as the corset is tightened to a comfortable degree, blinking softly as Lysander returns across the way.

“There,” Gaz nods, glancing into your unblinking eyes before he moves away like it burns to do so. “Is it too tight—?”

Your head snaps to the far right, and a shadow of a large body pushes through the bush. Swiftly moving in front of the knight, you blink through the rose-layered haze in your brain, startled. But what startled you even more was how Gaz tried to push you behind him at the exact same time you did to him.

Eyes meeting, you both stare, wide, before a body cusps the small patch of open grass.

All at once, every line of tension leaves in a calm exhale. A large smile peels your lips. Another laugh.

Gaz’s jaw drops.

“Gwendoline,” you move forward swiftly, hand outstretched to land on close-cropped white fur. You chuckle, moving to firmly push your forehead into the animal’s—careful of the horn protruding.

A delicate snort enters your ears.

Peeling back, a small and slender head shifts to show purple eyes to you; hooves move over the ground and a long tail with a line of flowing fur down the center whispers over the grass.

A unicorn.

“How?” You breathlessly ask under your breath, heart pounding. Her head elegantly tilts, needle-sharp horn poking out. “All this way, My Dear?”

Gwendoline’s eyes glint, as if laughing. Of all the beasts you’d come to know, this one still surprised you. Your head moves to Lysander, but the bird only flaps over and settles on your shoulder, cooing.

You hum. “Clever little bird, are you?”

“Am I already dead or is that a fucking unicorn?” Gaz bluntly asks, motioning weakly with a single hand as you bring the mythical beast over to him and ask her to bend down.

Hands grasp him, moving him forward swiftly to the awaiting beast as his feet skid for a moment. Your sly form comes into view in the side of his eye.

“Did you think I was lying when I said I knew one? Many I consider my friends, but none have I known longer than Gwendoline.”

Gaz’s lips open and close, blinking quickly as he’s forced to get on the thing, his injured body pushed over the kneeling side—in fact, he was a bit afraid he’d break the animal’s back, truth be told. It seemed so…delicate.

But as his hands had to settle themselves into the unicorn’s mane to keep steady, Gwendoline rising on sure legs, the knight was instantly proven wrong. Delicate looking, yes, but this best could break down stone with one swift kick. It had no trouble moving forward as you settled at her side, hand resting on her shoulder.

Your silver eyes stare at Gaz as he pants not from pain but from boyish wonder.

Smiling widely, you giggle at him. At his wide-open face and his honest smirk. It’s a magical thing.

“Bloody fucking hell.”

—

The border to your kingdom comes without a fight, and when the first river is crossed, and the bottom of your dress soaked by it, you feel the veil shimmer at your arrival.

“Rightly,” you begin as you set your feet to dry land, Gwendoline and Lysander listening in on your conversation. “I don’t believe I know what being here will do to you—this is a sensitive place, you understand?”

“I won’t stay any longer than what I’m allowed—”

“I am allowing you,” you interrupt, looking over with a heavy heat on your face. You stare at him, riding atop a unicorn with such grievous wounds he’d gotten defending you.

Gaz blinks before nodding slowly, smiling. “Then I’ll stay as long as you want me to.”

The air here is different; everything is lighter. The grass is greener—the sky more blue. It sings.

“Do you not have family to return to,” your eyes narrow. Gwendoline knows the path—you need not guide her. “Loved ones?”

“Ah,” Gaz shrugs the best he’s able, nearly commenting on the unicorn’s perfectly smooth stride. If he were on a regular horse, his wounds would be burning by now. The man moves his eyes from you to the ground for a moment. “I don’t think they’ll be roaring to have me back now.”

Your face thins.

“I…” you breathe out a slow breath. Emotions. Such fickle things. “I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault,” is the easy and swift answer. “I made my choice—and I’d do it again, as well. I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t, yeah?”

Soft eyes move your way, and you meet them, a gentle smile peeling your lips.

“I knew when I gazed upon you in that Hall that you were strange, Knight,” your words move between the both of you, hovering in the air. “You carry yourself with something long lost. I can no longer name it, myself.”

Gaz’s head tilts. A humored smirk, but his brows are quizzically raised. “What does that mean?”

You only stare, Lysander on your shoulder and your expressions hidden to all but the old voices of the wind, who’ve known you far longer than all else. Your throat hums, and you turn back to the forest ahead of you, safely home. Gwendoline’s eyes watch you closely from beside your face, glinting their periwinkle hue.

“Alright, then,” the man sighs, but a large smile moves across his face. A low chuckle. Hell, his heart was even pattering like a bird’s wings.

“When we get to my father’s court, I ask that you let me do the talking,” you speak some minute into the walk, your strength returning the longer you live here with the magic in the very fabric of the sky. It seeps back into you, swelling like a wave. “You’ll be received by the best healers we have, but my father will need answers from the both of us before long. He is a thorough Fae, even by my peoples’ standards.”

Gaz grimaces as his stitched wounds pull as he shifts his upper body. A hand settles on his leg, keeping it lightly grasped before his face returns to a tempered calm.

“Right,” he utters, fatigued. He glances at your hand and clears his throat softly.

“Keep your head high,” you utter. “You have my word, Gaz, and I believe that it will account for much. You are under my protection now.”

Your fingers travel the side of his breachers, peeling back the torn fabric to stare at the bandages you’d wrapped. It was bloody, but it would last until you got to the castle. You miss the way the man’s breath gets caught in his throat.

“I think you’ll like it here,” you whisper, your silver eyes shifting upwards to meet brown—Gaz watches with barely hidden reverence. A great awe that extends to his bones. “You’re…different.”

That's all you can call him.

He huffs, tilting his head. “I’ll take it as a compliment.”

—

The healers had gotten him squared away in no time at all, and now, days later, he had his own quarters in the castle—an esteemed guest of your father’s. The mortal knight who defended his daughter’s honor with all the strength of a dragon, even when he didn’t need to.

Your wound had healed as best it could, but, like most nights, you were up because of it—walking the halls and rubbing at the skin of your palm. What you had told Gaz had been true; the blisters and the throbbing blood had ceased, but the pain underneath remained. A brand of sorts. Burned into your soul.

The both of you were such self-destructive creatures. If anyone would have commented on it, they’d say you were meant to be together.

Two sides of the same coin.

Your unadorned head swivels to the wide open windows of the corridor—sheer fabric curtains of unicorn hairs whispering beside you. There were no fires here, only the illumination of the moon and the stars. The courtyard below is filled with merriment that will move long into the coming weeks. Laughter and warm voices. Dancing.

Their princess was back, after all. The King of the mortals was dead. It was a time of celebration.

You smile to yourself, rubbing your thumb into your palm as you continue to walk on, flowing dress dragging behind you. When you hear the firm heartbeat following after, you entertain him for a while, a tiny smile stuck to your face.

“You’re getting better,” you call behind you, not turning around.

Before long, a shadow moves up beside your form with a smirk and a heavy chuckle. “Really?”

“No,” you hum and hear the honest laugh.

“Hell,” Gaz utters. “Got my hopes up.” You shake your head lightly, side-eyeing the man. His soul was more Fae than mortal now—the food and drink were in his veins, and that alone made people…less than they were before. Not only that, but his tunic and pants as well; Fae made.

You both walk in silence for a time, the man’s eyes still trying to take it all in even since the days he’d been here; it was incredible.

But then he notices your hand.

Brows furrowing, he gently takes you by the arm and stops you as you slow, glancing over. Gaz frowns, and just as he did in the forest, he takes your hand and tilts it to him.

His hands are warm.

“Can I really not do anything?” You smile.

“No, Gaz, you cannot.” He grumbles, grimacing, and it makes you chuckle at him.

“Come,” you whisper, shifting the limb to grasp his own—the man’s eyes blinking quickly. “I have something I want to show you.”

“Alright,” he says, quietly, a layer of worship slipping between the word and his low breath, staring at the back of your head as you lead him wherever you see fit. He wondered if anyone was really led away from the battlefields by Fae—he wondered if they’d just been as enchanted as he had become, by men and women of pointed ears and unnatural eyes. Flowing clothes and soft voices.

They’d gone willingly. They had to have—they’d snuck off and now dance in the courtyards below; they live in the woods, near the rivers. Learning the words of birds and beasts, lying in the sun, and sleeping under stars.

Being taken not by corruption of a name…but by love.

Gaz’s eyes glint as your hand stays gently in his, a grin on his lips as the moonlight casts shadows over his face. He squeezes your hand and tries to will away the pain that lives under your flesh with his own.

Your face heats a foreign fire, one that is becoming more and more common the longer you live around this man.

You lead him into a courtyard similar to the one from Michael’s castle, yet, at the same time, so very different.

Phoenixes sit in trees of silver and gold. Unicorns graze on grass greener than anything ever seen across the border. In the air, illuminated wisps looking like stars float to shine light over bushes that drop gems like water droplets into woven baskets. Much like the ones from your crown—the stones that Gaz had given back to you from his pouch; sighting how you had led him to your hiding place without even knowing it.

Perhaps that was when you knew you would love him for all of eternity.

“Sit with me, Gaz,” you breathily say, turning and pulling him closer, noses nearly brushing while walking backward. Feet moving through long grass as if a phantom.

Your eyes pierce him, making him lean forward. He shutters, noses brushing.

“Kyle,” he whispers, only to you. The word burns from the power that surges from that monumental confession. “Kyle Garrick. Say it,” your stare, “please.”

“Kyle,” the man wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you close. His very soul lights inside his ribcage, and his body quivers. His lips brush against yours.

“You’re setting me on fire, and I don’t want to stop it.” Your smile dances, your heart rampages. An old creature, you are—an immortal thing.

But as his lips press to yours, and you breathe down every ounce of loyalty he offers as his hands skate your dress, you would give it all up in an instant.

Just as he had for you.

You haven’t told him, but when a Fae loves someone, really loves someone…that’s the only person they’ll ever love for the rest of time immemorial. Or at least until one of them dies. After that, if the Fae is left behind, they wither. They Fade. A broken heart, everyone says.

Your people are delicate things when it comes to emotions. Everything is heightened. Your soul already sings for him—your heart soars when he speaks; when he looks at you. It was still the beginning, after all, but this man was special. He had a mind that would be remembered well after his years.

He’d damned you from the moment you’d seen him under that stained-glass window. A Saint and a Stag.

What is love, except eternal damnation and memories stuck like gold thread into skin?

—

Far off into the world, sitting near that dark and shadowed cave, a deer antler crown sits motionless in the grass. It has no adornments—no gold thread or gems of starlight. No grand wealth to it.

Just antler and the hint of magic laid in deep like the dirt of the earth.

Flowers grow in a small patch around a single broken tine.

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dreamydrifts · 23 days

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only girl | max verstappen

pairing: max verstappen x reader | genre: estaished relationship | warning: no warnings <3 | word count: 0.5k | stefy's note: max won in japan so this goes for all my red bull girlies, so enjoy :)

[ BACK TO MASTERLIST ]

Wednesdays have always been considered for Max as streaming days. You knew that he was usually playing SimRacing, but lately you found yourself to see him play.

So one day, you entered his room as he was steaming. He sat on his gaming chair, with his arms behind his head, marking his veins and muscles. He looked really hot.

"You know that you are going to make many of your fans fall in love with you, right?" You say laughing as you enter, giving him a kiss on his cheek.

"Well i already have the only girl i care about." Max laughs and kisses your lips. In front of the camera. Live. You kiss him back, forgetting that he was on his stream, but you the two of you still haven't shared your relationship with the public.

Max breaks the kiss and looks at the chat, realizing what he has just done. "Oops." He looks at you, as he starts to blush. Now he doesn't know if he should end the stream or end it to talk with you. That's when the chat explodes, everyone is talking and it's chaotic.

You nuzzle your head on his chest, feeling embarassed by what just happened. Feeling more confident you decide to sit on his lap, keeping him company as he plays.

Max puts his hand on your back as he plays. Putting his microphone on mute, he whisper to you. "Sorry about what happened...and more for having kissed you in front of all people without thinking." He blushes, looking at you also being embarassed but proud. "I'm sure you will have many new followers from here." The dutchman says jokingly, while he puts his microphone on, seeing as the chat goes crazy.

This time you decided to tease him. "And surely you will lose some girl fans. And no need to be sorry, i think it was about time that we should tell them."

The dutchman laughs happily and looks at you lovingly. "To be honest, i could lose all my girl fans and i wouldn't mind , after all, you're the only girl i need."

"What's with the sudden confession.?" You smile, caressing his cheek and then kissing it.

Max puts his controller down on the desk and looks at you with his cheeks now flustered from the kiss you gave him. "I couldn't let us keep being just a secret relationship, and then the kiss was the perfect opportunity to announce this." He laughs as he puts his hand on your thigh.

You smile and kiss him slowly again. "The headlines tomorrow are gonna be crazy." You say giggling.

Max holds you up, pulling you into his arms as he kisses you back. "Yeah, let's see what they put on the news..."Verstappen has finally found true love?", "Verstappen loses half of his fans but is now in love". He laughs and keeps kissing you.

#Spotify #max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen scenario #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen fanfiction #red bull racing #established relationship #red bull racing x reader #red bull boys

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cptnleviackerman · 5 months

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candles and cuddles

spencer reid x gn reader

Spencer comes home from a day out in the city and finds you feeling overwhelmed and tired, so he helps you get the rest you need to recharge yourself. content - fluff, comfort, cuddles words - 2.2k

The keyrings rattling outside in the hallway stir you from your thoughts and you smile briefly, knowing that this means Spencer will be walking through the door any second now. You can hear him struggle to get the key separate from all the keyrings, and you can’t help but feel giddy. Despite the fact that you know he likes to keep his keys fairly free and accessible, he still uses all the keyrings that you’ve gotten him from the various trips you have taken, both with and without him.

“I bought this really cool book. Come and read it with me?” Spencer asks, his voice alerting you to his presence, now inside your shared apartment.

You look up from your spot on the sofa, tilting your head to indicate your question.

“Would you like me to explain what the book is about?” His voice is gentle; in the same way a hot bath can soothe achy muscles, his voice soothes the aches in your soul.

You nod your head in response, straightening your back and stretching your legs out in front of you. You had been sitting in the same spot for the last few hours, waiting for Spencer to get back from town. He had been out shopping and had stopped for lunch somewhere with Derek, leaving you to fend for yourself at home for the afternoon. You’d managed to get a couple of the chores done from the long list you’d given yourself, but for some reason once the dusting in the lounge was completed you had found yourself almost completely devoid of motivation.

“Are you sure?” He pauses before adding, “are you okay?”

He puts his bag down without looking at the floor, and steps towards you. His eyebrows knit in worry and confusion, your lack of words seemingly causing him to be concerned for you.

You clear your throat before speaking.

“Yes I'm sure. I'm okay, I promise.” You give a small half smile to try and back up your words, and to try and convince Spencer, but by the look on his face you know he doesn't believe you. Goddamn profilers.

“Did you have a good afternoon?”

You hope that asking him a couple questions will help to ease you back into talking, but your voice is very small when you first speak, and you assume it's because you haven't spoken out loud since he left.

“Yes, we did, thank you. Derek was unhappy about being dragged around to all the small, dingy bookstores, his words not mine, but I think he forgave me after I bought him lunch.”

You can't help but let out a small laugh at that, it does sound a lot like Derek, he loves to tease Spencer. Even more so when they’re both out shopping and Spencer is trying to buy new books, he’s said to you before that Derek finds his need for over checking and going back and forth a million times between stores a little excessive sometimes, all to ensure the perfect book is bought, but you know Derek only means it lovingly. He'd never say or do anything hurtful towards Spencer intentionally.

“That sounds about right.” You answer with a laugh.

Spencer is right in front of you now, having removed his scarf and coat, leaving them untidily thrown about on the nearest chair.

You feel the sofa dip under Spencer’s weight, and you can tell by his short sigh that he wants to ask you if you're okay again, but you speak before he's able to.

“It's okay Spence, I really am okay. Just tired I think.”

Spencer nods, willing himself not to keep prying. He knows if something was really wrong you would tell him, he just needs to give you some time first. He has come to know your ticks and quirks quite well now, the two of you had decided to move in together almost a year ago now, and you had been friends long before your romantic relationship started, so he is familiar with how your brain works.

He watches you as you shut your laptop and place it on the table, his eyes following your hands as he shuffles back into the sofa to get comfortable. As you lean back Spencer puts his arm around you, bringing you closer to his side. You let out an audible breath of relief at the contact, something that doesn't go unnoticed by Spencer.

“Do you want to take a nap with me?” Spencer asks, squeezing your shoulder with his hand.

“Spence, you know I'm not good with na—”

“I know, but resting can help with feelings of exhaustion, even if you don't actually fall asleep. It's important to let yourself rest in order to help boost your mood, and resting can also help reduce stress and improve your creativity and motivation.” He pauses, tilting his head to look at you, before adding, “I don't want you to burn yourself out.”

Spencer punctuates the end of his sentence with a smile, and you can't help but smile back. The ways in which he wants to help and look after you never fail to make you happy.

“Okay,” you agree, “let's go to bed for a bit.”

You can tell Spencer is happy you said yes by the way he jumps up almost immediately, extending his hand toward you and practically pulling you to your feet. You let out a laugh as he drags you to your shared bedroom, watching as he struggles to hold your hand and get the room organised enough for you both to relax on the bed comfortably at the same time.

“Spence, it's okay, I'll sit.”

He looks at you as if he'd forgotten you were still attached to his hand, almost as though he'd become so used to your presence beside him that he hadn't even thought to let your hand go, even if it meant he'd be able to organise the room better.

Spencer had long considered you a part of him, almost since the very first moment he had met you. The way you seemed to light up the room as soon as you entered, your smile was warm and inviting, and your voice… He had never heard anything like it. He hadn't turned around upon your entrance on that first day, he knew that Emily had invited a friend to the bar, but he was focused on watching Derek play pool against Rossi. Although, more accurately, he was focused on telling Derek the precise ways in which he was bound to lose the game; the way his stance was wrong, the way his hold on the cue was wrong and how he was breathing at all the wrong times in order to make the perfect shot. But as soon as he heard you introduce yourself to JJ and Penelope his head had whipped around, his eyes falling on you immediately. There was no mistaking his feeling in that moment, he needed to know you.

And he hasn't lost that feeling in all the years he'd known you, it had grown and changed as the two of you had become more and more familiar. What once was needing to know you, had then changed to needing to hear you, needing to see you, and now, needing to be near you.

Even as he gently let go of your hand and watched you quickly sit on the edge of your bed he wished he was nearer to you. He wished he could feel your soft skin against his, and feel your chest rise and fall with your breathing.

His longing made his organisation an entertaining thing to watch. His steps were hurried, his feet tumbling over each other and you were surprised he hadn't fallen head over heels yet. You placed your hands on the bed behind you, leaning back onto them slightly as your eyes followed Spencer around the room. He was caught in his own world and luckily didn’t notice your staring, although you could feel your face heat up at the thought of him catching you. He was focused on clearing the bed at first, he had moved the scattered papers and books left there from your morning in bed, and had moved them onto the chair beside you. Next he had ensured all the curtains were closed, only left open the tiniest crack to allow some of the air to flow in from the open window. He had then flicked off the main overhead light, choosing to turn on the warm bedside lamp on his side of the bed instead. And finally, he fluffed up your pillow, turning to you when he was done and extending his hand towards you, stretching it as far as you could in a bid to get closer to you.

Smiling, you accepted his hand, allowing him to pull you to your feet and lead you towards your side of the bed. He had left your favourite green fleece blanket at the end of the bed, and as soon as you laid down he wasted no time before placing it over your body. You smiled, wiggling a little to get comfy. Spencer checked the room one last time, as though he needed everything to be perfect for you, and paused. You weren't sure what he was doing. At first all you could see was his back as he rummaged through a draw, but it didn't take long for you to realise his idea once he turned to face you. He was holding a matchbook.

“Which scent?” He asks simply.

“Hmmmm,” you tilt your head and purse your lips while you think. “I don’t know, there’s so many— Oh! How about the white jasmine and sandalwood candle you got me last week? I haven't had a chance to use it yet.”

Spencer nods, and wordlessly walks to your bedside to light the candle. He smiles as he watches you slowly close your eyes, happy that you’ve given yourself some time to rest.

“Spence? Are you going to continue watching me, or are you going to come and join me under this blanket?”

His smile widens to a grin at your words.

“Sorry, sorry, I’m coming.”

And, true to his word, after barely a minute he is next to you.

You curl your body towards his, lifting your neck so he can slot his arm underneath it. You can feel Spencer bouncing his foot ever so slightly underneath the blanket, and you smile, leaning further into his chest. You hadn't realised how tired you had been, but you feel it now. You take a deep breath, wanting to relax yourself even more. You can smell the outside on Spencer’s shirt, a fact that, although is not unsurprising, does make you a tad disappointed. Until you met Spencer you never realised how addicting it can be to be enveloped in a partner’s smell, you never realised that a smell could make you feel so relaxed and so calm. Draping your leg across Spencer’s body you take another not so subtle sniff, trying to smell that familiar mix of vanilla, coconut and coffee.

“Are you smelling me?”

You bury your face in his chest before answering, and you feel Spencer squeeze your arm.

“Yes.” You whisper.

“You like how I smell?” His question is genuine, but his voice is small—almost as though he was afraid of the answer.

You crane your neck upwards to look at Spencer.

“Yes.” You whisper again, with a smile on your lips.

You feel your cheeks warm as Spencer looks at you, you think he must be looking for a sign of teasing on your face.

When he doesn't find one he pulls you even tighter against his chest.

“Thank you.” He breaths, the words barely perceptible.

You smile, wrapping your arms around him as best as you can from this angle, and you feel his other arm lay on your side. His touch completely surrounds you, and you can hear his heart beating in his chest. The rhythm relaxes you, and coupled with the candle and the dim lit room, you find your eyes beginning to feel heavy. You know sleep is not far away now.

“I love you Spence.” You whisper. “Thank you for looking after me.”

Spencer watches you as you finish speaking, he loves that he was able to help you this afternoon. And, despite your regular insistence that you can't nap, he feels your head go heavy and he can hear your breathing change. He knows you must be practically asleep now, but he doesn’t mind, he always has his thoughts to keep him company, and luckily when you’re in his arms he knows it will always be the good thoughts, and never the bad ones.

“I love you too, baby.”

Spencer’s voice is quiet so as to not disturb your peaceful rest, but he hopes you hear him. He hopes you are able to hear what his actions say to you.

I love you, I love you, I love you

You mean everything to me

#i love him so much:(#he means the world to me actually:(#i need him to comfort me and give me cuddles #hes so baby #i love him love him love him lots #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fluff #sage.fics

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wandagcre · 6 months

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drive you mad (part 2) | sam carpenter 🔞

(Mob Boss!Sam Carpenter x Fem!Reader)

You had enough of your complicated relationship with Sam. You’re trying out new coping mechanisms to move on, but sadly, even going on a date with another person didn’t make things better. However, your best friend had too many tricks under her sleeve, willing to try them all to have you again.

WARNING: dom!mob boss! sam, sub!reader, fluff, some of sam's daddy issues, possessive sex, strap-on, subdrop, jealous sam, breeding kink, blow job, dubcon(?), humiliation, fake cum, praise, edging, implied size difference, mentions of violence and stalking, manipulation, stockholm syndrome, toxic relationship, just a lot of reader and sam fucking like rabbits omg, not proofread +18 / men & minors dni. Words: 18k+ Note: BEAR WITH ME. I am aware of how much of a lengthy (wink wink) last part this is but I swear things are looking good ;) hope everyone enjoys it!

[ LAST PART of TWO | Previous ]

[ series masterlist ] | [ masterlist ]

Apparently, the worst thing that can happen is that your date for tonight shares few similarities with Sam.

You try to be humoured with how it started with your same friend again, it’s like she simply knew what your type was. Your date's name was Lucy and while she didn’t possess the tanned skin that you loved; she was still taller than you, her mother tongue happens to also be Spanish, and she also had an attractive set of thick eyebrows.

The resemblance in terms of characteristics was uncanny.

At first it felt foreign to you to dive into an established romantic date after a while. Besides the comparisons that your brain kept making, you were also unsure if any of the ones with Sam actually counts.

Nonetheless, it's been so long since you’ve been into one, you feel like a newborn learning to walk.

To Lucy’s credit, it was an enjoyable experience. She was considerate of your taste, threw you compliments that weren't only out of politeness, and preferred that the two of you decide which place you’ll be more comfortable in. Lucy was specific and admittedly it helped, because you had the tendency to be indecisive. She was chatty and at times it was comical with how she told you little stories that genuinely made you laugh as you dined in an Italian restaurant.

Lucy also took you to an arcade that recently opened. It was creating quite a buzz around, based on how you constantly see teenagers flock enthusiastically in the area.

Surrounded with glowing lights and bold, colorful neon signs, packed with a variety of games you haven't even seen before. The place was indeed inviting for you to let loose.

“This is cliché. But in a good way. I haven’t been in a place like this for a while now,” you look up to your date who had an unwavering smile.

“See! Clichés can be good! Opens the forgotten memory you once enjoyed.” Lucy beamed at you. “What’s your favorite game to play? I’d have to say I’m great at these things, so we’re totally going to win something by the end!”

“Even the claw machines?” You jab playfully at Lucy's confidence. “Aren't they always rigged? I believe just the same since I never won anything from those things.”

“Can't argue with that. Sometimes it's all about the timing and well, other times, all rigged business as you say. Lucky for you, I happen to be good at this stuff!" Lucy stretched her hands outward, comically, cracking her neck muscles as well.

You can’t help but snort at the sight. Nerves were slightly put into ease, because tonight was going well. She won you a dolphin stuffed toy and she definitely hard carried the gunning zombie game of two players, where Lucy amusingly acted out as though she was in real despair with your character constantly dying. You had a great time.

Even if Sam continued to ebb in your mind.

“Lucy, thanks for tonight.” She opened the car door for you and you exhaled with relief because you did enjoy her company. “I had a lot of fun, even if I kept dying on those two player games.”

She leaned on her car, Lucy’s look remained at you. “I did too. I was happy to be accompanied by a beautiful date. Totally worth the coins! But do know that I don’t mind if we do this again…” she extended her hand to yours, silently asking for permission if you’d let her hold you, which you accepted. “And I also won’t mind if you say no. I’ll be a bit bummed, sure, but I can handle it.”

You sense Lucy's nervousness as she fiddles with your hands, head looking down while sporting an upturned mouth. You’re still wearing the jean jacket she lent you from earlier, and insisted that you needed it more because she can handle the cold breeze better.

You loathed to think that maybe, if a specific woman didn’t occupy your mind and body this much—maybe—you’d get a better shot with the lovely woman right in front of you.

“I appreciate how you’ve been so good to me all night,” you tighten your hold, it was softer than what you were looking for. Unaccustomed to the calloused hands you have grown to love over the past few months.

“I sense that there’s a but…”

Then all of a sudden, your phone rings.

It was the devil herself.

Sam.

Retrieving your phone from your purse, you stared at the screen for a few seconds. Not even debating if you should answer, simply frozen that Sam is calling you. She wasn’t the caller type, knowing that she liked to give head's up before anything. So you thought it must’ve been an emergency if she was this insistent.

Worry filled you. Yet, you don't trust yourself to answer right away, knowing you were bound to embarrass yourself or worse; be easily pulled in by Sam's sweet nothings. She was your weak spot, your ability to say no vanishes with ease.

Taking a peek at your notifications, it only shocked you, seeing that Sam was bombarding you the whole evening. They were sweet first, her usual cheery self, until they got cold for some reason. You stifle an uneasy grimace—hating how this was confusing you to no end.

Pocketing the phone back, you had no energy for this tonight. There’s no escaping this situation or this woman, really. Why did you think it was a good idea in the first place? You decide on calling Sam the next day to get things over with.

“Are you okay? I don’t mind if you’re going to answer that,” Lucy asks with a comforting smile, gesturing at your phone that rang for the second time.

You shake your head, trying to compose yourself.

The ringing eventually stopped.

“No. Uh, where was I?” You clear your throat. She looks at you expectantly. “Again, Lucy, it’s been nice. But I think for now all I can handle is… friendship.” you answer in a heartbeat and for a moment, your date was crestfallen at your answer. “But you’re right, you know. Cliches can be nice. I never thought I actually needed this.” It was genuine; not a mere attempt of cheering her up. You didn’t realize until now how you needed to unwind in a way that wasn’t discrete nor foreign.

After a few beats of silence, the woman nodded, perhaps she has accepted her fate for tonight. Lucy bounced back to her unaffected and cheery disposition. Before parting ways, she surprisingly left a soft kiss on your cheek, almost at the corner of your lips.

“I’m content with the fact that I managed to change your mind over one thing.” Lucy quips and shoots you a playful wink.

You were still blushing at the sudden action but you didn't quip at it, giving back her jacket. “Thank you really. For keeping me warm and making this night wonderful.” Lucy says and waves goodbye one last time to you with a toothy smile on her face.

Standing from the pavement in front of your apartment, your eyes follow your date’s car as it drives farther away from you. Still stunned and occupied with your own thoughts, you pay no mind to the roaring engine in the streets, at this late hour—thinking it was one of the many overbearing and supercilious owners that likes to boast of their possession.

You rolled your eyes internally, and immediately headed to your apartment. Reaching your room, maybe the only thing you've cleaned up was your hands. Nothing had felt good for the past few days—work was demanding. Sam kept blowing up your phone, but she didn't make any move to come and see you and that bothered you still.

Even if this date was the most normal you've felt tonight, the exhaustion easily took over your body.

The paranoia comes in waves, surprising you every now and then. Because sometimes, you felt as though eyes were on you.

Mind drifting to Sam again, you wonder what could she be up to these days. What could’ve been the reason for her to call you out of nowhere. Has she missed you this much? Your heart flutters at the thought.

Was it a good thing? To avoid Sam this long even with her small attempts of reaching out?

Of course, it wasn’t. You idiot. Taking off your boots with a resigned sigh, you lazily placed them on the floor. The plushie was still on your other hand and you plopped the dolphin stuffed toy next to you in bed. It was easy to get lost as you laid all comfortable on warm sheets and cold pillows—you're off to la-la-land, dozing off completely into a dreamless state. As your body relaxed, you found it odd how all of a sudden it smells like chemical.

It was strong and vivid for your taste, that even if your brain sends a jolt of panic, you are numbed—unable to move nor wake up.

Like a terrible nightmare, it seemingly paralyzed you until you blacked out again and you didn’t have any more time to analyze it further.

How many hours has it been?

You worry that you’ll miss work. Disoriented, you feel yourself starting to wake up with eyes calibrating as they open. It smells different, though it’s more pleasant; earthly and flowery than the blur of chemical induced you've experienced before. Was it a dream? Your heart started racing—this is definitely not your bedroom. The mattress was softer than yours, the layers of sheets felt gentle against your skin. Not to mention you didn't have this amount of pillows underneath your head, like you were some sort of royalty. The bed was too wide for your limbs that were acquainted with the minimal space you were used to. Then it clicks to you; you are definitely in a different place.

But wait.

You've been here before.

In your hazy sight, you yanked on your forearm as your wrists felt oddly sore and prickling your nerves, only to find out the restraints that kept you for god knows how many hours. Your breathing pattern started racing—attempting to shake off the handcuffs. It was tight. You were still wearing your flowy dress as you glanced at your body.

"Good morning, mi amor." says the deep voice that rattled you.

Your sight makes out a figure of a person standing in front of you, ominous, yet had an amused look on her face.

How did you get in here? Into Sam's room?

"Sam? What—?" you rasped out weakly. "I don't… what is this?"

Sam had the audacity to smile through her little contraption. You poor sweet thing, she had anticipated many things; first comes the confusion.

She’s wearing your favorite shirt, worn out and tightly fitted to her body. With how Sam is built, you fear that the fabric will rip if she keeps on moving. It’s the same one you've lost during senior year and luckily for Sam, she found it in her room during one of your sleepovers and upon finding them, she had no intentions of returning it to you. The timing was perfect, she carried this piece of you as her father left her with no choice but to move away from your town then. Sam stood barefoot and her legs were covered with her silk sleepwear.

"Hush, It's okay, you're okay. You’re safe with me, (y/n/n)." Sam cooed as she sauntered your way, the bed dipping as she gently straddled your legs. It’s the same softly spoken tone you heard many times before, but Sam's actions remain to perplex you. "Relax, you’re at home—with me."

Then comes the panic.

You huff out frustratedly, "What home are you talking about? This isn't my– it isn't–! Fuck, I need you to uncuff me!” with gritted teeth, you try to kick your feet and legs in the air in protest. You didn’t like being forced into this. It was simply insane. Because either way, you were hopelessly drawn and possibly in love with Sam—enough to comply with whatever she desired.

Your wrists tug on the restraints again making them clink against the headboard and to no avail, you weren't able to loosen them up. It was a genuine pair of handcuffs. This wasn't a prank. The terror rapidly coursed through your veins, much more now that you can't move your legs as well, being trapped in Sam's weight.

"But you're with me. I've told you before, I missed having you, I even repeatedly begged you to come back home. You belong here with me."

Sam had wanted to do this hours ago—missing to be in your proximity, evading your space fully. But she knew it'll suffocate you and she couldn't risk putting her favorite pretty girl into a worse spiral of panic attack.

"No, no, no... I was with- this wasn't where I went right after Lucy... I- I got home, my house and I remember sleeping on my bed," Surely you aren't mad. You can recall the events step-by-step, hence this current situation you're in has left you confused. "How did I get here?"

"First, no mentioning of other women when I'm with you. Or ever at all." Sam breaks out a growl. When you gasp, she holds your jaw, tilting them up. Her hold onto you shifts, thumb now soothed your cheeks gently, wiping away the tears you were unknowingly shedding out of panic. "I had to do it my way, mi amor. I'm sorry."

And it swiftly shifts to anger.

A snarl breaks out of you in the midst of panic.

But oh, Sam could never hurt you.

"What the fuck is your way, Samantha?!"

Sam believed that you only need a little more push—convincing how perfect the two of you are together. After all, she has waited for you for so long and had expected that your reunion was enough to prove that. She has been so good to you. Sam thought; why did you have to look for more? She can give you everything.

"This right here." Sam quipped airily, a teasing look written on her face. "The last time you were in my bed... you were eager to leave. And you did, abruptly and odd, when I first thought of it. Then, you didn't plan on returning at all. That hurt me so much, (y/n/n)." Sam's gaze changed to hurt, head tilted as the intensity of her doe-eyes bore into yours.

Guilt prickled on your side. While you disapprove of Sam's ways, maybe you could have prevented it—this. Confronted her after what you found out. She's a friend first that you cherished before being entangled intimately. After all, communication also goes both ways.

"So, you basically took me? Handcuffed me, too. This is kidnapping, you know I could—"

"Report me? If I were you, I wouldn't waste my time. These cops are sloppy and way too easy. But still, they do make a good ear and connection for me, I must say."

You gasp at her implication. You should have expected it.

"Unbelievable. You've gone crazy, Samantha."

Sam shifted her weight, locking your hips with her thighs. Your breath hitched at the force, much more when you felt something hard poking at your pelvis.

"I hate it when you call me that. You're pushing it, baby. First you ignored me and your solution was to go and date someone else? I thought I made myself clear that I didn't like sharing you with anyone else, (y/n/n)?"

You blinked rapidly.

"It- It wasn't like that—"

"No? If it weren't for Tara and Martin giving me a heads up, you would've invited that girl to your house, wouldn't you?" Sam uttered with gritted teeth, "She must’ve done it to spite me. The nerve to leave a lipstick stain on your pretty face, tell me, did she kiss you?" Her thumb swiped your bottom lip, as if to erase the remains of what once laid in there, then up to your cheek but much more firmer than this time.

Sam was already debating ways on how she will dispose of this Lucy you speak of. Her eyebrows now furrowed and the loving eyes were ripped off, anger fixated on the red mark on your soft cheek.

"What? I don't—no, no, Sam. I'm telling you, it was just a simple date. We only ate at this restaurant and—what does your sister and men have to do with this?" you asked, growing confused even more.

If you loathed how defensive you were, Sam however, took immense pride in it. It just meant that you still cared for her feelings. So, there was something indeed. She wasn’t being delusional all this time—like her father distastefully implied.

Sam cowered onto you lower, her dark hair curtained as you were underneath her.

"Tara's wife owns the restaurant that you visited last night. As for Martin, well, I ordered him to call me in case something happened. Imagine my surprise when they both did."

He was following this whole time. That explained one of your conundrums of feeling eyes on you these days.

"You've been following me around?"

Sam was immovable, unphased by your words. She didn’t confirm nor deny your implication.

"You've got nothing to worry about. Come on, love — it's me." The pad of her fingertips trace on your features feather-like. "I won't let anything bad happen to you. Haven't I made that very clear?"

You scoffed at her nonchalance. "See, I would have believed you if you didn't take me unwillingly out of my apartment and cuffed me in your bedpost!"

"But I've always wanted to see you tied up like this. It was only a matter of time. Besides, I can recall you getting all flustered when I brought it up before. Wasn't it a confirmation on your end?" Sam had her pearly teeth clamped on her bottom lip. As she dropped the words, your cheeks grew hot. "Call this... me reading between the lines." Sam husked out right on your ear.

"Samantha, you are something else." A strained voice weakly comes out of you.

"I'm taking that as a compliment."

You rolled your eyes. "'course you will."

Sam hiked up your dress further, exposing your undies. You squirmed at being exposed and she smacked the side of your thigh in return. You yelped as it stung in your skin, throwing your head to the side of the pillow.

"Now, don't put up that attitude with me princesa."

It was embarrassing enough how you're affected with Sam and her way with words. Were you damp in the southern part? She has to stop and not pry further with her advances—or else she'll never live it down.

"I just don't understand how you were so insistent on taking me here," You peer at Sam who had her jaw clenched as she detached her hold to you. "I dunno, we could've talked about this normally. In a space preferably where I’m not restrained like this. Samantha, I mean it. I can't play any more games with you."

Sam raised an eyebrow over your words. A game? She was absolutely displeased with how little you think of her admiration for you. The disbelief was written all over her face.

She became eerily stoic at your words. You didn’t like being the receiver of her blank expression.

"The last time I did, you were adamant on leaving me. Fully avoiding me right after. You didn’t even pick up my call. And a game? Is that what you think it is? Oh, princesa. You're absolutely driving me up the wall. You're shutting me out, I’m familiar with it.”

You couldn't retort anything back at her words, gulping as you found the truth behind them. Sam was right; you've always wanted to run away from any forms of confrontation.

You were never good at dealing with them.

Such a poor little thing, Sam thought. This was evidently giving you a whiplash, her attitude and unconventional ways, but she doesn't think she can wait any longer and the unforeseen little date you had last evening just accelerated, no, ruined her plans.

"Was she any good?" Sam lowly questioned with her other hand trailed underneath your dress, running on your upper thighs as she moved back. You shiver at the contact and warmth that spread goosebumps all over your skin.

Sam refused to call this woman by their name, it would make things harder for her. She detests how for a moment, you chose someone else over her.

You helplessly squirmed, making the handcuffs clink repeatedly once again. "She- she was nice—" you truthfully said.

When you wiggled out your legs, Sam overpowered you. She gripped your plush thighs, opened them to have herself placed in between, with your folded legs raised in the air, she took her hips to push them downward to stop you. Her own core met yours and you felt her packing.

"Nngh—!" you heated up, so close from erupting louder.

And Sam? She hated to see you suppressing them. Especially when you have deprived her of your sweet presence for so long. But she has already learned that loosening up too much wasn't the good approach. She barely knew a lick to romance, not when her upbringing was surrounded by coldness and violence. She thought in realistic terms, the romantic movies that you loved and forced her to see were pathetic. Adorable that you found hope in them, so she gave that formula a shot when she saw you again.

Only to see that you slipped away from her. It was ineffective, so to say.

Sam decided that she was going to create her own.

"Wrong answer, honey.” she smiled. “You say that yet I can tell you're already wet for me, aren't you?"

You didn’t like how this turned out as foreplay and what was worse, is how you were enjoying this deep inside. Sam being in tune with your body—she already knew that. You just needed a little more… breaking.

"Fuck off, Sam. Just uncuff me already!"

"Now don't get me started. Say, I'll make a deal with you," Sam combed her fingers through your messy hair. "If you're wet once I inspect you, we'll do things my way. If you aren't– maybe– I will let you go."

Astounded with her proposition, annoyance crept into you.

"What's so fair about that?"

"The illusion of choice." Sam grinned mischievously. "But you can't possibly be wet aren't you? It's still early in the morning and your words are insisting that you dislike this whole setup." she gestures on your body, huffing at how you're still resisting her.

"You don't own me," you attempted to stand for yourself.

Mirth settled on Sam's features. She tilted her head and an unsettling smile was set on her lips.

“Haven’t I proved that otherwise from time to time?”

You look away at her crystal clear innuendo. Of course it's Sam. Everything that she did always had you transfixed and mesmerized by her.

"You're just mocking me now. Seriously, maybe if you knew why I pulled away..." you wryly replied.

"That's the thing, I don't! It frustrates me what I have done wrong," Sam now appeared equally exasperated as you.

You look at her bewildered. She had the nerve to say all of this, while her eyes were pleading at you. It was jarring to witness her crumble and desperate to seek answers in the softest way she can, while having you handcuffed.

"I heard you! That day, when you cooked for me and wanted me to stay in.” There wasn't going to be another chance if you didn't pour it all right now. With a shaky breath and a lump in your throat, you continue. “I accidentally eavesdropped on your phone call, confirming that you were going to a strip club. I hated that you were fucking around, even when we– whatever we were. I thought it was better to stub it out right after that. Apparently, I’m still not good with keeping things casual.”

Her calloused hands came back to softly soothe your face. You were close to shedding tears as previously.

"But… I've never been with anyone else since we met again."

"Bullshit." you quickly spat out.

She gave you a stern look. Sam was displeased with how you were denying her. Still, she evens out her breathing, holding back from taking the reins for now.

"I swear on it with a knife on my throat, (y/n/n). I had to go for work reasons. I recently acquired the place so I had to finalize some things. It also helped to muddle our meet-ups in case someone was lurking."

It made you tense up underneath Sam.

"And pray tell, why the hell would someone be lurking at you—better yet, at us?" you curiously asked, worry dripped at your tone.

Sam exhaled, her eyes momentarily shut.

"Because I deal with an under-the-table business, honey." Sam meets your eyes again, holding onto the headboard. "It's the main reason why I had to step up, as I said before. My old man let his temperament slip terribly, fucked up, and I had to take the reigns. That's why I disappeared. I didn't have much choice." She appeared solemn as she admitted the truth you've been longing for.

Sam leading a mob made so much sense now for you. Always wanting to be discreet, her men tried to blend in—not wanting to stand out, and especially that night where Sam was disoriented and had bruising, injured fists, more times than you can count after your first time seeing them.

The glint of amusement on Sam’s eyes did not go amiss for you as she gently stroked your hair. “Though, I gotta hand it to my old man. I hated how his voice nagged constantly in my head, how he figured out that I had feelings for you then–utilized it to taunt me every time I fucked up.” Sam scrunched her nose. The resentment seeped vividly as she revealed more. “He’ll always say, I can’t see you yet or- or that I don’t deserve you if I can’t defend you—that I’m weak. You were my silver lining, (y/n/n). Still is.” She confessed, stroking your jaw softly as though you were her most prized possession.

Similar to that one night, your affection for Sam overpowered your common sense. You were moved by her words, ached that she had to be tormented at a young age. Feeling bile rising up your throat; you then realize how deep were you enough to be willing to ignore the unconventional and wicked ways of Sam, even if it raised red flags. But it doesn’t mean that it wasn’t posing an immense weight over you.

It was all new information to you. For god’s, she had to kidnap you and cuff you to her bed. You never thought that your sweet Sammy could ever—

"That's... okay- okay. It's a lot to take in," you whispered to Sam who was internally worrying at your response.

Before you can delve more to the sirens threatening to grow louder, Sam scooted her lower body away from gripping you, and now you feel her lips softly yet so eagerly peppering your face with kisses.

"We don't have to talk about it right now, but I just want you, (y/n/n)."

She pinched your inner thigh, making your mouth open agape from the shock. Sam took it as her chance to meet your mouth with hers, no hesitation now as she was eager to kiss you. Her lips moved and you tentatively returned the gesture, dancing with familiarity that you didn’t know you badly craved for weeks now.

You groan at the overwhelming feeling of Sam and how she moved against you. Wet and eager sounds of kissing vibrated delectably to your body and it made Sam shift to a hunger and lust fueled kiss.

Soon you were gasping for air. Sam reluctantly pulled away as you did, chasing your lips for more. She was more than pleased to see you equally half-lidded and affected with now swollen lips.

“God, I wanna be inside of you already…” Sam husked out as she swept back her hair. “You’ve made me so desperate, you have no idea.” The ragged breathing made you throb. She moved aside to spread your legs apart and you became wetter at what’s about to happen. Sam quickly placed herself between your legs, now folded up. “Do you wanna feel me?”

You nodded, but it wasn’t enough for Sam.

She grabbed you by your cheeks, “I need an answer, mi amor.”

“Yes!” you breathed out, nodding dumbly.

Sam grinned wolfishly as your need starts to crack upon the surface. She knew that this irresistible feeling goes both ways. Still, she thrived on seeing this each time, being proved right.

“Arch your back for me.”

As you complied, Sam slithered her own body flushed against yours. It gave her enough space to reach behind to unzip your dress, tugged it down, her look barely faltered with a glint in her eyes.

She saw your matching jade underwear pieces. Seethe began to bubble inside of Sam as it sinks in that you dressed up too nicely for your date last night. It drove her crazy, how your gorgeous tits were threatening to spill out of its confinement; you were such a sight for her.

Only for her and it should always stay that way.

She cupped them out of your bra, finally revealing your supple breasts. It only took one glance for her desire to take over and now you’re pressed against Sam. She feels your nipples harden on her as she begins to mark you from your neck, to your sternum, and coated them with her spit as she sucked on them needily. Throughout the process, all you could do was spill moans helplessly, eyes closed and arched your body for her—gladly letting Sam do however she wanted.

Now your body was littered with red and purple marks, some parts glistening with her saliva.

“I want to taste you too, fuck, I don’t know which one I’ll do first.” Sam admitted, voice all raucous. Taking a peek of her needy, doe eyes was enough to make you feel lightheaded. “No more dates with other people alright? So god help me, I’ll fucking behead anyone who dares to.”

You nodded, now eager to comply with Sam as your whole body ached for her. Your green light made her weak in the knees—she worships you. Sam swore that she won’t hesitate to kill more for you, if they cross you or come between the two of you.

Sam pulled you in by gripping your legs, lower body completely arched for your core to meet hers as she knelt at the bed in front of you. She thrusted her hips upward and the dull ache of your pussy throbbing intensified tenfold. She continued teasing you and while your arm and wrists were beginning to ache, knowing you can’t do anything, you started to cry, pleading for the woman to do something.

“Please Sam, can you just– shit, it hurts, I need you… please…”

“Shhh, it’s okay,” Sam gently released her hold of you, pulling down her sleepwear and revealed the strap that dangled between her legs.

You involuntarily widen your legs at the sight. Fuck, you were so ready for her. She smirked at this and tugged your underwear down. Your arousal flowed like crazy, the vivid imagery of your wetness stringing on the fabric of your panties and Sam was intoxicated at it, more so with your heavenly scent.

“Wanna fuck your mouth first, (y/n/n).”

With no further warning, Sam hovered against you once again, leaving your pussy exposed and being teased with the mere air, feeling yourself drip already at her expensive bed sheets. Strong thighs and muscular lower abdomen peeked through her tight shirt, covering your entire sight.

Sam tilted her head and you see the mirth on her face. Unexpectedly, she grabbed the middle of the strap’s length and slapped it harshly on your cheek and mouth, barely an ounce of respect. You were a fan of how she loses herself onto you—because of you.

Body twitching repeatedly, without a doubt, you were craving for more.

“I need my good girl. Come on, open up for me.” Sam orders, probing your mouth open with the tip. Sam’s scent was intoxicating for you, too, with barely space from her core to your face, you almost wanted for her to ride you. Maybe later. “And I need to prep you first.”

Wanting to please her, you met her lust filled gaze and opened your mouth wide, tongue stuck out. She immediately pushed in a few inches, your tongue already swirling around the silicone. It stretched your mouth. With closed eyes you were sucking so eagerly that Sam moaned at each thrust she did, hit the back of your throat that you had to adjust your breathing through your nose–and how you easily complied with no hesitance. You covered it in the slick of your spit until your cheeks hollowed, eager to please even if you were close to gagging. Drool sloppily dripped on corner of your mouth; equally lost as her right now and Sam loved that.

No one and nothing else can compare to this sight.

“Shit, you love me moving like this huh? Being cock drunk, you’re pooling already in my sheets…”

She grunts as she thrusted harder, getting more turned on as the slick wet sounds become aggressively loud in the confines of her bedroom. Sam kept her gaze on you the whole time–loved the sight of your eyes welling up with tears out of pleasure, drooling on the corner of your mouth, and you were releasing throaty moans as she moved on your mouth.

“You missed this, don’t you?” Sam breathily asked, the bed creaked along. “Because I sure did,”

You hummed loud in agreement and this urged Sam to grab the shaft of her strap, with one final thrust, she poked it against your cheek, the head of the cock bulging against it. She groaned at the imagery—ingraining it on her mind. She pulled out with a pop noise and you were already dishevelled.

“Fucking hell, (y/n/n). Not so responsive now are you? Fuck, if my cock was real I would’ve made you swallow my cum already. Spilling them warm on your throat. You would’ve loved that, wouldn’t you?” Sam asked you through her rapid breathing and held you by your cheeks again to fully look at her.

“Yes, yes! I’ll swallow it all. I need you, I always need you, Sam,” you admit with no shame and spread your legs wide once again, your hole soaked and clenching over nothing—all for her.

“Must be your lucky day then. Because this is a cumming strap, mi amor.”

As your eyes widened, Sam pumped on the shaft, directing it to your mouth that was slightly ajar and you felt liquid oozing on your lips and tongue. She dragged it until spurts were all over your face, torso, and then your lower tummy.

You made sure to put on a show for the woman, seductively licking off the remains of her fake cum, fully immersed as if it was the real thing. Sam groaned and moaned, immediately pulled you for a bruising kiss that made your head spin.

“I know you wanted more but I need you to be patient,” Sam muttered as she pushed your inner thighs outward, positioning herself between you. “Shit, you’re dripping. I was right. Soaking, just like I expected you to be.”

“Yes, yes! But for the love of god, uncuff me, Sam… I want- no- I need to feel all of you,” you begged for her mercy. Sam simply bit your exposed clavicle. As you moaned, the action sent delicious tingles all over her body.

“No, not just yet.”

Sam’s calculations were going well so far, she’s about to have you and then keep you forever.

There’s no escaping her now.

You whined a bit more as Sam had her grip on the back of your knees, making you fold as she pressed herself beneath you. She held you by the ankle and threw them above her shoulder. Fuck, she’s got you folded. Maybe Sam should’ve let you do some stretching first.

“Need you to take a deep breath for me, pretty girl.” Sam uttered with her voice all gruff, and looking at her, you see the sheer sweat becoming evident on her skin though not as much as yours. “You didn’t like me so much earlier but now, I’m barely in, and your pussy is clenching already?” she mocked you. Her giggling burned your body, you did not expect how enjoyable it was to be ridiculed in this way. “Loosen up for me.”

With a bated breath as you relax your throbbing core, Sam slid her cock further, the head and a few inches entering you with ease than earlier. Sam was keen on looking at your expression and your mouth, in case it was too much for you. She knew it was a new thing for the two of you, she can only imagine that it’ll be a new adjustment compared to her slender fingers.

This was an insane type of stretch for you. The biggest you’ve ever taken.

“See? You’re taking it so well. I’ll make it fit.”

Eventually, it wasn’t enough for Sam as you expected. Drunk with the sight of your pussy swallowing her whole, she picks up her pace and rammed the cock inside of you—full of hunger and determination to see you fall apart; she needs it more than air.

“Shit! S-Sam, can you just–”

“Shhh. Don’t be so greedy now, where are your manners?”

The curve of the whole shaft inside of you was vivid against your walls, her impatience getting the better of her as the pace was ragged, no longer gradual. It was downright pornographic–you didn’t expect to be this loud and wet. The ache of being deliciously stretched out made your eyes roll back to your head and let out a moan. The sloshing and slapping sounds were too defined for your ears.

“You… you’re going to be the end of me, Sam,” You whisper as you bucked your hips, the squelching of your sopping pussy only motivated Sam to thrust deeper who smiled at your words.

She waited for you for so long and to finally have you was intoxicating beyond her comprehension.

“As you are mine,” Sam replied and with a newfound fervor, she began fucking you deep into her mattress, hitting the depths of your soaked pussy. The bed uncontrollably shaking and with her grip on the headboard–you feared that she might actually break it.

“Oh m-mmh! Fuck, oh-Oh my god!” you cried, not even able to ground yourself through holding onto something as you’re still cuffed.

“Shhh you can take it. Just a little more,”

Your arousal dripped enough to smear itself to Sam’s hips and thighs. She grunts loudly as she fervently pounds the strap on you, "Esto es mia." her accent dripped deliciously and you whimpered, whole back arched, as Sam splayed her hand, pushing the bulge of the strap that appeared on your lower tummy. “You like that baby? Needy little thing, I’m going to fucking breed you until all you can think of is me.” you wish to have your nails dug and scratched over Sam’s muscular back, finding the ideas she kept on seeding onto your dirty mind pleasurable more than ever.

Your stomach twitched like crazy, the tangled coil grew unbearable now for your liking. Both of your muscles burned but it was barely an issue for Sam who was still relentless.

Just as you were close as Sam hit the right spot, her pounding came into a full halt.

With hazy sight, you try to blink a few times. Sam started to pull out, while you cried, canting your hips to chase more of the strap and she simply took deep breaths. She growled, slapping you harshly by your inner thighs—you yelped unadulteratedly, the sting crossing the line of pain and pleasure. Sam muttered a string of curses in her mother tongue as soon as she saw the strap coated and glistening with your slick.

The tension on your stomach twitched madly in waves. It doesn’t help that your clit was throbbing painfully to reach the needed high. You wail as you turn your head to the side, burrowing to the soft pillows. Your vision turns warped as you grew dizzy, staring at the high ceiling.

The harsh reality sinks in. Like a cold bucket of water spilled onto you, you realize that you’re in Sam’s complete mercy. She makes it known with her giggling that resonated in the spacious room, making you feel humiliated. Though, it oddly adds to the erotic atmosphere. She worked you up–gaping hole still clenching, now onto nothing.

“This is what happens when you do dumb things and deprive me of your pretty self, mi amor.” she smiled and stroked the apple of your cheek, wiping the tears away.

Sam couldn’t wait to fully break you.

While previously wallowing in deep yearning and questions, Sam however, took it up a notch. It was terrible; aware of Sam’s tendencies to be rough in bed, nothing had prepared you from yesterday. Her intentions were clearly personal and she took the detachment horrifyingly and dealt with it in unimaginable ways you never thought could happen to you. For gods’s sake, she was following you and not so long ago you were in her bed. Uncertain how you’ll face this mess, there’s one thing that you were sure of: you cannot get enough of Sam.

Isn’t that terrible?

You woke up gasping for air—your body doesn’t feel like yours. It felt as though you were paralyzed, your motor senses weren’t coordinated as you wanted them to be. It was like being plunged into a body of water for hours, coldness surrounded you and oxygen was scarce, you were completely deprived. Your lungs were clogged up and you didn’t know how to manage the air through your body. Panicking at this, the tears involuntarily well up your eyes, blurring your vision and just in time, someone catches you.

“Shhh. It’s okay. You’re okay.” Warmth covers your body. The soothing voice kept on lulling you to calmness. The grasp was firm on your midsection—continuously rubbing back and forth. It wasn’t like being trapped anymore. “It’s just me, mi amor. It’s Sam—your Sammy. Try to breathe slowly with me, come on baby, you can do it.”

The voice faintly goes through your hearing but it was distinguishable enough. It was still difficult to breathe but being in her proximity, you feel her pattern of breathing. She takes a deep breath and draws out the release just as slow.

“Breathe with me, come on honey,” The voice urges you gently, sweeping the hair away from your face. She anchors you through the turbulent waves. Sam thought; How can you still look so beautiful even at your most vulnerable? If anything, this had made her even more set with her plans—wanting more days of waking up next to you.

Your breathing was less ragged, albeit still unregulated.

Sam wanted to see your eyes now, the one that she loves the most, and your subdrop is depriving her of it.

She tries to paint an easy picture for you in hopes of calming you down. “You’re alright. You stayed with me—in my house the whole day. It’s nighttime and nothing bad is going to happen to you. What’s going to happen is that you’ll rest the whole day. I’ll prepare some food, we’ll go for a bubble bath, and reapply a soothing cream to your sore thigh and we can watch some romantic comedies that you like so much—you’d pick the movie, of course.” Sam finishes with a light chuckle.

Finally, the panicking has settled down, her words have lulled you to calm down. You aren't drowning in the vast and deep sea nor restrained like a prisoner. It provided enough details that you didn’t know your mind longed for.

“Sam,” you drawl out with your hoarse voice. You’re met with the beaming hazel eyes, crinkled at the corners, attentive to your next words. “Fucking warn a girl next time.”

“No promises.” She teases you, nose scrunched and tickling your side lightly.

You fight off a weak smile threatening to spread on your lips. “What do you mean no promises? I don’t think I can walk! Don’t even look smug right now–I mean it.”

The woman in front of you was not guilty at all. Shrugging her shoulder, Sam was seemingly ready to get up.

No!

You shrieked. Panic immediately courses through you, tugging her down harshly to your side once again. Your grasp was in her arm. Why were you so adamant to have her beside you? It was unexplainable but if anything is certain, your body couldn’t handle it if she left you. Not after letting her have her way with you earlier—you refuse to feel disposable, even by the slightest. You wanted more of Sam.

Sam, on the other hand, was shocked at the action but not at the reason. She blamed herself—knowing you were still processing your feelings, how rough she has been—she should have remained gentle, at least for now. Sickeningly, she loved having your attention this way. It felt like a teaser of what was more to come—to eventually have your full devotion; equally as she does to you.

“I’m sorry, honey, I was about to carry you.” Safe with me now. She murmured to no one, soon as you clung to the front of her body, legs wrapped tightly to her waist. Her arms and hands quickly caught you for support. You nuzzled in the crook of her neck, making her shiver delectably more so as you tangle your fingers on her hair—scratching lightly on her scalp.

Not long after as she started walking, she pressed multiple innocent kisses to the expanse of your neck. Sam sighed. God, everything had to be so addicting about you—even your scent. She gently drops you to the cold marble of her kitchen’s counter and before you could protest, Sam reminds you of the plans she had made for tonight.

You’re surrounded with appliances that you had no idea how to properly pronounce, one that you would’ve only seen in the magazines. She always wanted the best of the best, it seems. Hell, Sam can start a cooking show if she wants to. This part of her house wasn’t too decorated, you noticed, somewhat lifeless. You tuck the observation at the back of your mind, a piece that could be useful later on.

Soon as you settled in, Sam told you that she intends to make an appetizing flatbread and her own concoction of guacamole dip. How she managed to improve her culinary skills in these years remains to surprise you. Younger Sam was already capable of making edible food fixes and some humble meals, but her skills as she made them was evidently different and an upgrade.

Your curious eyes remained at Sam as she moved. Her apron appeared threatening—it read don’t make me poison you! Attached with a kiss mark was ridiculously endearing to you. But also very, very hot. The way Sam tied it around her waist and how it clung to her fit figure. Not to mention, you were rewarded by the sight of Sam’s hair tie momentarily trapped by her teeth then doing a messy half-pony with it.

She first started with the dough with the trusty rolling pin, her arms flexing and contracting at each force she put into it. The veins were slowly becoming prominent as Sam does her work, the outline of its curves bulging, also making themselves known. Remnants of the powder were a nice touch as she was making a meal for you.

Don’t even get started with her knife skills. Sam easily chopped through the vegetables, completely hypnotized by the motion, you failed to notice that she was preparing some greens that you personally had a vendetta with. Your eyes were fixated on how she cut through them with much precision and ease. Then, you recall her admission, leading a mob—you can only imagine how swift she must be with her sharps when using them in business situation, the menacing glare and—

What?

Now, you were thoroughly confused.

You gulped and squirmed on your seat. The ache in between your legs made you remember how she deprived you of orgasm previously which was a first. She even promised to breed you. But you didn’t know whether it was an act of mercy, knowing if she pushed you more, you would have spiraled much worse the following hours when you woke up or was it an act to build an excitement through you.

No wonder, similar to the physical hunger, you found everything in front just as equally gratifying. Even the thought of her malevolent ways, which you initially had conflicting thoughts about. You were still aching and sore, it didn’t help that Sam was quite the eye-candy as she maneuvered in her own space. Shit.

“I know you still don’t like these. I remember you shoving them sneakily on my plate whenever we ate dinner at your house back then.” Sam snapped you out of your…derailing thoughts. Oh, you wanted to be railed, alright. She dusts off her hands on her aprons after washing them. “But you have to eat up your greens, missy. Don’t make me force you.” she quips in a jest, eyes scrunched at you.

“I don’t have much choice, do I.” You deadpan and roll your eyes as Sam hummed, agreeing. “How come you don’t have a personal chef?”

Might as well shift your thoughts to something else. Admittedly, you also wanted to know more about Sam. After the continuous bombs she had dropped to you as she fucked you to oblivion.

“Ouch, baby. You haven’t even tasted what I’m cooking and you’re already doubting me?”

You laughed. “No. But I heard it’s what rich folks have. And you must be busy.”

“Not for you, never too busy.” She replied, quickly like it didn’t need much forethought. She shot you a charming smile and proceeded to chop away. Did your heart do the somersaults? Hell yes. You were always puddy when it comes to this woman. “Sometimes I do… but I prefer doing it personally for you. Especially today. But on another occasion, maybe you’ll see my personal chef.”

“Do I sense an early invitation for an indoor date?” you tease her.

Sam nodded her head adorably. “Well, yes, (y/n/n). I thought that was clear already. More things to come.”

Well, that joke of yours bit you quickly in the ass.

You coughed and turned around to your side to hide how affected you were. This version of your Sammy would need more time to be processed into your consciousness. Few weeks apart and you’re still clammy and hopeless at her forward nature.

“You haven’t even asked me to be your girlfriend yet. For all I know, this feels like another booty call for me.”

“A booty call?”

Okay, maybe that was a bad idea. Sam halted her motions, you flinched in your seat as she spun the knife effortlessly in her fingers, then gripped the knife and pierced it in the chopping board—the sound resonating in the kitchen.

“You are my girlfriend and it better stay that way.” A lilt of aggression and possessiveness dripped in her honeyed voice. She couldn’t stand you doubting more of her actions. Or worse, you mentioning any traces of your past experiences of hooking up with other people. “Like I said, I despise having to share you amongst all things. I thought I made it clear; no talking of other people–more so when you were entangled with them at one point–around me. I absolutely cannot stand it.”

Her jaw grinded as it bothered her. Sam didn’t know whether she should throw up or plan to hunt them all down and slice them all up, gut them up like a fucking fish, as she pays them a little visit. Starting with this Lucy woman you just went on a date with.

Shiver ran through your spine at her tone, coupled with Sam’s harsh parting of your still sore legs, settling between them as yours dangled on the marble counter. You turn into jelly oddly both at Sam’s admission of wanting you—claiming you—and her hand that greedily ran on your ribs, dangerously under your breast, and the other brought up your inner wrist, and pressed a kiss softly.

“I wasn’t– I just wanted to clear this out. It confused me for a while, what we were. I just needed it spelled out. For the sake of my inner peace.” You stammer out and Sam’s features slowly relax to your admission.

“Well, you are mine, mi amor. I’m reiterating that for a million times more until it sinks in to you.”

She professed, tilted her head and leaned to you with no hesitation, and as you met her halfway, one of her hands rested to the side of your head, pulling you for a chaste kiss. You burned for Sam, chased her touch, and the butterflies on your stomach were still there. Not even the little cheek kiss from your date last night could compare by the slightest.

Soon as Sam pulled away, your stomach growled, reminding you of actual hunger. She chuckled upon hearing and quickly resumed her work.

“I didn’t know you were this…” You stop to find the right words. Sam tilted her head to the side again, always attentive to you. “Passionate.” Possessive, almost. Maybe you would have said that but you didn’t want to break such an intimate air between you. Not when Sam is officially your girlfriend.

Sam however, found it amusing. She’s surprised you barely caught up with her nature. Even in your younger years, she assumes that you only took it as protectiveness. Casualties were barely encountered then because you were attached to the hip, by default nobody wanted to mess with you as everyone was aware of Sam’s intimidating self. She was all talk and bite.

"You can say possessive and I won't be mad. I don't want you holding back to me."

“Okay. I was about to say that. Were you ever like this with other girls?” you timidly ask out of curiosity.

She shook her head. “No, just you.”

Sam clearly remembers this girl from her lacrosse team who wanted to ask you out for homecoming. Unlucky for her, Sam had heard her previously in the locker room, talking about you as they perceived you both in sweet and disgusting ways.

She mentally agreed with how they recited your beauty out loud. You are definitely a piece of art to Sam. She unashamedly admired you out in the open, but it appeared that you were oblivious to it. But then, they also talked about how you were possibly freaky—your innocent and quiet nature was a mere ploy in their eyes and they would like to tap your ass and ramble more of your curves.

It may or may have not intendedly caused Sam to perfectly stage an accidental scene to break the girl's ankle during one of the practices then sneered for her teammate to 'watch out next time' and 'not even think about you' in the slightest.

“Guess I was indeed full of surprises, hm?” She simply replied, getting a glass and a bottle of your favorite flavor of fruit juice for you.

How did Sam even know that this was your go-to comfort drink?

With wide eyes, you accept it gratefully.

“Yes, you are.”

Not long after, Sam had finally finished up preparing food for you two. The serving was definitely quite generous. She didn’t hesitate overfilling it with the toppings and sauce. She brought up a piece of her creation in your mouth, which you easily took a bite of. The food and its flavors melted in your tastebuds. You couldn’t help but moan in pure delight.

Sam laughed. “That good?”

“Shut up.”

“You’re stroking my ego, baby.” She places her palm flat on her chest, seemingly flattered. “Don’t talk with your mouth full—you know this.”

And you? You almost spluttered out the food you were chewing. Sam and her devilish antics will be the end of you.

It wasn’t you to be contained in one place. You were always moving, whether there was a force or not. Yet, for the last few days, you manage to be unmovable. Miraculously taking your sweet time with Sam. Time seems to fade when it comes to her. More than anything, you were in disbelief you get to call your long time crush as yours.

The small haven the two of you built for the last few days came to an inevitable end with Sam having to attend to her business matters.

You were displeased, the bubbling separation anxiety somewhat coming to the surface already. Just before Sam left, she pulled you into a deep make out session, and both of you were getting handsy. Gleaming at the thought of finally getting a sense of release, to your surprise, Sam managed to break away and compose herself—smoothening the material of her dress shirt and fixing up her tie.

To pile more to your frustration, you saw the emerald upholstered chair that Sam shamelessly paid and took when she fucked you senselessly at that lingerie boutique. As expected of the woman, she had it in her placed in the resting area of her house.

Before deciding to explore more of the nooks and crannies of Sam’s home; you eventually noticed the red lights at some corners placed in the bedroom and a brilliant idea popped out in your mind.

You retrieve your phone and dial Sam to confirm and quell your thoughts.

“Miss me already?”

“Terribly so.” you fiddle with the strings of Sam’s hoodie–the owner giggling to your direct confession. “I just noticed, but are these cameras in your bedroom?” your eyes flit to one to your right.

Sam cleared her throat. “Before you detest the idea; baby, it’s all for safety. If it makes it all better, I’m the only one with access to the bedroom cameras.”

You almost snorted because of course, she would.

Audibly, you sighed out of relief with a hand clutched to your chest. “Thank god. ‘cause I was about to touch myself.”

You’ve dropped the words so casually that Sam for the first time, was out of words. Faintly, you picked up something on the other end, a sound like a clear fall–unbeknownst to you, you have successfully made her flustered beyond her comprehension.

“Sam? Don’t tell me you hung up on me,” you rolled your eyes.

The woman took a deep breath. “No. Still here.”

“Good…”

Your eyes remained on the camera, giving the best of your pleading eyes–hoping it’ll somehow be visible enough through Sam’s static screen. Hand slithering on your ribs then your covered mounds, making you groan out loud and eventually your fingertips hovered around your pelvis–a flimsy underwear that you Sam chose for you to wear earlier. It was practically see-through. Your body felt feverish, eyes fluttered shut.

It would be so easy to dip your fingers inside…

You hear Sam growl. “Don’t touch yourself. Not without me there. I swear to god, (y/n/n) I’m not playing with you…”

A whine escaped your lips at her order, actions coming into a full stop. It was no use to sneak off, aware now there’s cameras in her house and Sam was bound to figure it out no matter what.

It took Sam half an hour to reach you. You’re met with a determined woman, loosening the tie on her neck and unbuttoning her dress shirt halfway as soon as she barged into her bedroom door—while you gasped, looking still the same as Sam last checked on her monitors.

She manhandled your body, as though you weighed nothing. It spurred your libido higher than ever, mouths crashing and Sam devouring you until your lips bleed and bruised. The only thing that came out of your mouth was her name and more moans that echoed beautifully in her room. Bodies flushed together, you grinded in perfect sync, breasts brushing that made you putty. The familiar gliding of her hands soon met your soaked center. Sam slid her long and slender fingers, entering you but not fully. She started to rub circles slowly until you were worked up enough, playing with pressure, she pumped them deep into your throbbing pussy. Sam grunted at the squelching sounds, obsessed with the warmth of your core. You easily took her in, greedily swallowing all of what she can offer to you.

The twitching of your stomach was absurd and seemingly nonstop. Yet again, Sam noticed, and she took out her coated fingers out of your sopping apex.

“No, not yet princesa.” She devilishly giggled, breathless as you were on top of her lap. You simply cried and squirmed, as the lack of release was making you crazy. “Give me a good reason,”

Your hips bucked but Sam was moving away. You didn’t like it at all. Surely, you were going to combust if you were deprived of this heaven for much longer.

“Please, I can be good! Sammy… I’d do better!”

How can Sam deny you now? She giggled at your state. Sam had to admit, edging you was a form of sick atonement that she wanted to pull out of you. Forged as a punishment for leaving her dry while she was understanding and patient. Her devotion was clear as a day and you’ve failed to notice that. Yet, it was also a ploy to have you in her orbit, even by sexual means. With a sardonic smile, Sam absolutely had fun with it.

“Now you’re talking. Just like how I want you, (y/n/n).”

With newfound fervor, she resumes her motions to your pulsating and insanely wet pussy. You clenched repeatedly around her digits. It released a throaty moan out of Sam, low and breathy, spurring you to arch your head back.

“Tell me how much you need me.”

“N-need you… only—s-shit—just you, Sam! Nngh!”

Pride deeply surged on her chest. If it were possible, her love for you only heightened.

“Oh, I love you.” She confessed against your skin. “Cum for me, (y/n/n).”

The endearing look that Sam had in her hazel eyes had made you even more lightheaded as you took a peek at her. She loves you? You couldn’t believe it. Just in time, your body shook in pleasure as finally you were able to cum. With weeks worth of teasing, it definitely scratched an itch but somewhat it wasn’t enough, yet you couldn’t raise your voice for more as it exhausted you. Maybe you should start working on your stamina, you thought. But then again, Sam was insatiable with her teasing and foreplay. She had been sinfully eyeing you and grabbing you so casually without any promise of making you cum.

Your profession of love to Sam came out in a mumble. Of course, it was no-brainer that you reciprocate her love, too. She simply laughed at your state, body slumped and nuzzled on her neck, a gentle kiss pressed out of appreciation for her. Sam held you tighter, combing through your hair that had grown sticky due to sweat, all softly and breathing in your scent. She smiles upon realizing that you used her own shower items instead of yours, one that she provided, knowing which products you used religiously.

As this was happening, Sam bestowed your little date with a gift. A bloody pig head awaits the woman, the item placed not out of her doorstep but rather from the inside. The scene was gory for her or any sane person’s liking. The trail of redness was spread through her floor and has oxidized. It left a stench of rot, that flies were starting to appear in your date’s home. Sam is anything but rude, so her present came along with a note—one that relayed a clear message of threat for the woman to stay away from you and it would be better if she moved away.

Sam would have made her death swift, dealt with it clean this time as she has no longer a message to relay for you, a contradicting safety and fear which she can both offer—all in order to have you.

Your stunt of touching yourself today effectively reduced Lucy’s sentence. She cut her plans short and had given this woman a second chance and made a simple scare instead of personally gutting her up with ease. Although if she pulled any attempts of challenging her again, Sam would no longer be merciful to her.

Another day of Sam giving you a bouquet of flowers. To her surprise, today was different. Soon as you placed them carefully on a vase filled with water, quickly you retrieved your own gift for her. She always gave you something and you wanted her to know how you always thought of her, too.

You handed Sam a dark blue colored mug that was rough around the edges, a proof of your inexperienced clay making. Designed with stars and the waxing crescent as the main subject, the outline is painted in gold.

“What’s the occasion?” She asked, still in awe.

“Should there be any? It reminded me of you,” You smoothly replied. Her eyes twinkled and it was easy to say that it was a success.

Sam was over the moon. You remembered. Honestly, it was hard not to, because her pillow sheets were still related to the cosmic – only portrayed with much elegant material. Then her ramblings and how Sam would take you out to simply admire the moon at night. As she held your present carefully, you thought now of how it was a fitting symbol for her, with her tendencies of being a night owl and broody. She chuckled at your perception of her.

“Oh and I’m broody?”

You add, "It makes you hot and mysterious though, don't worry."

“We should watch the night sky sometime again. I missed doing that with you.”

With Sam’s eyes crinkled in delight and her million dollar smile directed at you, caught you in her grasp with your feet in the air—her hold flooding you with warmth and adoration—it wasn’t much work for you to smoothen and forgive her of the previous disagreements you’ve had with the woman.

She was simply your Sammy, far from the frightening glimpse you’ve seen of her as someone determined and powerful of a mob leader.

Somehow, you managed to get back unscathed when you returned to work. With absence equivalent to a honeymoon trip, you didn’t know what excuse the universe had provided over you. You explained a made up family-related emergency problem, even though you haven’t seen them in years, and it worked like a charm on your end. You weren’t fired even with the sudden absence, no resentment in your bosses’ tone, and your coworkers simply wondered and then welcomed you back.

What you did not know was that your absurd omnipotent of a girlfriend conjured something, effective enough not to pull much attention in tying her name with yours. Sam already invested in your company. It was clear for her that you wanted your own thing, getting out of work so quickly. She respected this wish of yours. A negative push from her would have made you shut like a clam and she didn’t want that—not when Sam was making progress already.

Were your spirits lifted? Without a doubt. Luck didn’t strike you this much, so you gladly took it in.

Initially, you planned to go back to your apartment after work then call your girlfriend. You can’t deny that you missed your own space, wondering if it was dust littered already, given your absence for how many days.

Although, a car was already waiting for you outside.

“After you.” Martin greets you, opening the car in the backseat. You offer him a polite smile. To your surprise, Sam was seated there too. Immediately, you tackle the woman for a tight hug. Sam returns it with a loving smile and you didn’t want to let go of her addicting embrace.

She looked stunning with her navy turtleneck and usual trousers, along with her polished leather shoes. Sam’s attire always complemented her tanned skin that you love so much–especially with the gold accessories that adorned her look. If anything, getting a sight of her energized you and made your mouth water.

She laced your hands together. “How was work?”

“Good as it can get.” You sighed contentedly, head already leaning to Sam’s broad shoulder. “I don’t know what magic you pulled, but I wasn’t berated at all? And this guy from the other cubicle was the only thing that annoyed me by far.”

“What’d he do to you?” Even without looking, you can already see Sam’s eyebrows furrowed in concern.

You giggle as it wasn’t a serious matter. “Relax. I just couldn’t tune out his singing and humming today. It got on my nerves… he didn’t exactly have the voice of an angel.”

“Oh I’m sorry you had to put up with that?” Sam meekly says in hopes of comforting you and her thumb rubbing on the back of your hand.

“You know I should be the one asking you–how was your day?” you retort. You always wondered how it worked; Sam being a mob boss. She must’ve always been caught in some form of distress.

Sam bit her lip. She looked at the rear view mirror before answering you. There was nothing much to hide at this point.

“Good. Somewhat smooth, no one annoyed me with a shitty singing voice.” She replied in a deadpan which made you laugh. “No one had to face my knife nor my fists, surprisingly.”

“That for real?” your eyes went wide.

“You asked,” she mumbled. Sam held your hand tighter as though you were going to disappear in thin air. “It’s nothing like a war, (y/n/n). I know your head is getting all creative–but the machine gun out in the open? Not real. Not an efficient way to stay low, either. Sometimes it’s about looking at paperwork and more on discussions. But lately it’s more of in between securing deals, cordially as we can. Then like I said, sometimes… it takes force and grit—in case things go south.”

A pout spreads on your lips. It pulled out a hearty chuckle from Sam. As she suspected, you indeed had a comical imagery of her work.

What she didn’t know was how you grew into liking the vision of her being stern and domineering. You even thought of her office, how her seat must’ve looked like a throne to sit in. Completely lacking in warmth, assertive, cold and calculated as she gave orders around.

You blurt out, “That’s hot.”

“Hot?” Sam looked at you in disbelief and some flattery. “I didn’t expect that from you, (y/n/n).” an amused smile graced her features.

You simply shrugged and soon yawned.

“When was the last time you had time to rest? You deserve this, mi amor, and so much more. It wouldn’t hurt if you let go once in a while.”

It got you thinking. Sam is right. You weren't used to having this privilege; by means of simply resting and existing in a peaceful space. Always trying to get by, going through the tedious nine-to-five routine. You’re forgetting something but you have already succumbed to the idea that crashing onto your girlfriend’s place (once again) was a given, due to your sleepy state.

“Before you fall asleep on me, I got you this,” Sam shuffled on her seat as soon as you leaned against the car’s headrest, mindlessly fiddling with the sun pendant placed below your jugular notch. Sam got it for you a while back.

She reached at the back of the car and pulled a gorgeous bouquet arrangement. It was becoming a common occurrence every week, since you managed to make a deal with the woman. You had issues with being spoiled too much and Sam petulantly met you halfway, understood it, even if she acted like a kicked puppy. This was her alternative of spoiling you of love—amongst other things. Sam balanced her unconventional approach of romance through this, willing to give this traditional courting-like gesture another shot, not wanting to be too rough with you as it wasn’t an image she wanted to be fully attached to.

Another huge motivator for her was the discovery of your admittance when she came up with this unannounced, saying that the first and last time you received them was in high school and it was because of her. Sam can recall the time, unknowingly having missed the sight of you being tongue-tied and absolutely flustered. She loves how you glowed at this little gesture.

And now, Sam is eyeing you between like a meal to devour and the trace of gentleness is found on her hazel eyes, as always. Her fingers cradled under your jaw.

You can get used to this.

"But I'll miss you. didn't we plan movie night today?" A rare sight of Sam, pouting and tugging you close, was beyond endearing.

You almost felt bad. Pressing your lips against your girlfriend, you then lead her onto a chaste kiss. "I'm skipping just for tonight please? And it's not like I won't miss you too, either. because I certainly will."

"So smooth with your words."

"I've learned from the best."

Sam cocked an eyebrow. She didn't know whether she'd be pleased at this situation or not. Her issue lies from your current outfit, she thought it was too short. It didn’t help you were a walking vixen and dangerously unaware of it. The idea of you prancing around with filthy leering eyes following you all night? It made her blood boil.

That was already a job taken by her and hers alone.

Her grip loosened around your waist, turned into soft caressing. She beams at you, knowing it was your favorite sight and part of her.

"Mmm. Maybe it was bad that you were taking notes. Too much of it I'd say."

Your phone pings again, your friends were already telling you that they're on their way. A part of you detests to be away from Sam – but you think that your memory has gone oddly hazy and you cannot remember the last time you met up with your friends. You get out of your shared room but not without Sam hovering and sending you off with a kiss and personally driving you there.

Meanwhile Sam was somewhat pleased. Sure, she wanted all of your time, but she had to admit how she reveled in the way you have easily forgotten of her obsessive and conniving ways. Your girlfriend wouldn't let you out of her sight, of course. Constantly worried about your safety and a step ahead, decided to plant two men with a set of skills present on the scene; a safety net in case your fun night out changes its course, her gift of necklace served as an audio receiver and the expensive watch had a tracker.

What you hoped to be a good time, ended up on a terrible note. You disagree with your friends as you open up a few more details to them. It was all because of your curfew and they perceived your relationship with Sam as too intense. That was a given, right? It’s a love thing, you suppose. You fiddle with the necklace she gave you, pondering over how as though they didn't see Sam in the same light as you did. She wasn't borderline abusive. In fact, she had been greater than ever to you, more carefree, unrestrained and unfiltered. You feel it too, she was more relaxed and eager to disclose any information you wanted from her.

Now on your fifth drink? Or sixth? You scoffed and giggled. You were bummed because it took Sam a lot of convincing that you were going to be safe. That you had your own pepper spray with you and that nothing can happen with your friends beside you. It was good, refreshing even. Until it wasn’t.

“I’m just saying, you have to watch out for yourself. And we’re here. Anytime.”

“Are you sure you can trust her after that? She seems… pushy. Won’t take a no for an answer.”

“Seems too fast, (y/n). It won’t be bad if you raised your opinions every now and then, you know.”

It echoed once again to you. Sam was the best for you. Everything between you was consensual. You understood her ways, simply because it was how she was made. You can only imagine how several years of being moulded into a domineering leader with a strong gut have drastically shaped her, refusing to think of it further how you weren’t there for her.

You downed another shot and as you drank away your disappointment of your friends’ criticism of your girlfriend, a greasy man was already eyeing you.

Then you realize Sam's words from one of the nights you spent with her. She was right; these people in your circle wouldn't get it. Not as much as the two of you do.

Upon your realization, a man not so discreetly manoeuvres his way through you. You deny him but he was insistent. It was gross how he was a mouth breather, his stench hovering over you.

“The more the merrier, baby.” He didn't even believe that you had a girlfriend, in fact, he even grinned disgustingly at this information.

“You have one second before I call the fucking cops.”

“That’s a lame excuse–” He whined, looking away in disbelief thinking you were bluffing. “C’mon, I can make you straight… all it takes is a night with me,”

You took that chance to stealthily use your phone and clicked on speed-dial. You were surprised it connected to Sam instead of the cops. You don’t remember changing it although it was a better alternative, truthfully. With the initial shock, it override the rising suspicion from you; how your girlfriend set it herself.

Some men came over to assess what was happening. The greasy man rambled too much, far from convincing with how visibly uncomfortable you were. Thankfully, they came into your rescue. You hoped they were good guys. So far it seemed promising that they pushed the guy who was making you uncomfortable. They had a strong build and now were exchanging in a verbal disagreement. It was getting heavy that you had to step away and as soon as you bumped from someone at your back; it was your girlfriend, doe eyes swarmed comfort to your body.

“Get in the car, mi amor. It’s parked at the front. Lock the doors and wait for me there, hm?” She caressed your cheeks. You were clearly shaken up, still Sam was proud of how you nodded and tried your best to look at her. “I’ll handle this.”

Her thumb caressing gently on your hips, you look at her once again, to see not even the situation and what it holds for the man—but to see if she was truly alright. Sam reassures you again that it’ll be alright and focuses again on the man that had been bothering you.

Where the hell were your friends? Sam groaned lowly in frustration. It was good how she decided it was a good idea to wait out for you. Who knows what could have happened. She takes a glance at the man who added rain on your terrible drinking night-out. She lured him out. He was ecstatic, the idiot not even knowing his fate for tonight. Him trying to take advantage of you sealed it for himself.

Sam already figured that this would be easy, his throws starting on a terrible form, giving away how he didn’t have a proper knowledge of its basics. He might’ve been taller, but his lack of skill proved him to be useless. Sam immediately went for an opening, fist met his face then swoop his feet quite literally which hit his knees badly to the pebbled ground. He groaned out of pain, curses flowing out of his mouth.

“Please! I’ll do anything! Spare me, I haven’t- I didn’t even touch her!” He begged on his now decapacitated knees.

Sam quipped, “Should I be happy about that?”

“N-no, but–”

“You harassed her. Insisted on wanting to fuck her.”

Over a dim corner outside, Sam sighed and took out the silencer concealed in the back of her jeans, and personally shot him right in the head. She liked seeing her power over these people. Always begging for a way out, so desperate.

Her men didn’t even flinch, trained and desensitized. In another vehicle parked near to the scene, a few more men came out of it, dressed for clean up and quickly carried him out for disposal.

She didn't want things to be messy. But she had been listening to your entire conversation; unbeknownst to you that the necklace also served as a down low spy-like device for her. Sam was happy that you were quick to jump in her defense–how you trusted her. Frankly, she was afraid that her attitude and sense of ethics would be something you’d be disgusted with. Being proven otherwise, it warmed her heart, increasing her devotion tenfold if it were even possible at this point.

It was easy to lure you out of your circle of friends grasp. She thought of some point how useless your friends would be, now that you have her. Sam knows they’ll only add as a burden and mess.

As she drove the two of you back home, her free hand constantly rubbed random patterns on your exposed thigh. The streetlights were just as warm as your girlfriend’s touch. Her constant glances at you each time you were in red light. The reassuring smile that barely left her plump lips.

When you waited for her – you didn’t even care what could the man from the club could face. Was it terrible that you reveled in the high possibility of him being a dead meat?

One thing for sure is that you only had one good takeaway this evening.

With your parents out of the picture a long time ago, disapproving of your ‘lifestyle’, and siblings being far and preoccupied with their own lives — this was it for you: Sam is your family. Each time an emergency or a milestone happens to your life, only Sam is there for you, without fail.

You only needed her and she was more than enough.

"Tara wants to see you." Properly and not from afar as Sam instructed, the voice echoed in her mind. "Not today, because I want you all to myself right now. Some other time, maybe."

Your eyes crinkled. "When have you not? But yeah - I'm totally in. She was practically a baby when I last saw her." Both of you giggled at your remark.

You discovered another room in Sam’s house. Barely gone through all of them, you found out just now how she had a gaming area. Littered in between retro and modern game machines, and how it glowed differently from arcades, made it appear much inviting. Now in low lighting in the afternoon, you ended up playing pool with your girlfriend. It was a game you always sucked at; with your shitty aim and handling. Bad news for you, it’s Sam’s favorite and opposed to you, of course she was great at it.

Terribly cocky too.

Not that you minded, because she was attractive for how she flaunted it. She’s carefree with you, seemingly retracting to her playful self that gave her a youthful joy of a glow. With her dressed up in tight cycling shorts that were covered with a sweater around her midthighs; Sam looked appetizing.

Back to the game, your motor movements suffered. Each time you aim and thrust the pool stick, the ball bounced off like a fish - far from the pocket points. Missing the target was also a common mistake for you.

She laughed. “No, baby, you’re holding it wrong too.”

“How is it any different from yours?” You retort.

“It can be your posture as well and the pressure you apply when hitting. Don’t be mad now.”

Huffing, you were so close to breaking this pool stick. “Maybe if you showed me!”

Sam chuckled. She liked your adorable scrunch getting all focused to at least score a point. she gets from your behind, bodies now flushed. Her soft chuckling continues as she notices how you stiffened at the contact. It blows her mind, how years ago things were in reverse; it was her who always panicked at your comforting touch. she welcomed it, relishing each second, replaying the memory of times she missed you before meeting again. She beat herself up mentally at how different she should have approached it.

Sam shook her head, focusing on the present. she has you now and it's all that matters.

“You just have to…” She took your forearms in a grasp and smoothly ran them to your hands. “Hold it like that. Your other fingers for balance however, depend on your level of comfort. It’s a matter of practice–which is what we’re doing.”

“Is that so?” You tease her, turning your head enough to meet her face, hooded eyes greeting you. You feel Sam growing breathless much as you do.

Her hazel eyes had a specific glint to them. They beautifully shone and no doubt had a swirl of lust growing bigger onto them. You purse your lips to hide the spreading smile. Instead, you retaliate by leaning over the table exaggeratingly; practically bending over it. Sam could no longer hold back a small moan escaping her mouth.

It was a matter of a different game and Sam decides she’ll humor you.

However, it was proving to be a difficult task. You just had to rub your ass against her hips. Now practically enveloped by her, weight almost all into you. You wiggle a bit more. Then you felt something else. Fuck. Was she…packing?

She had a cocky smile now. It’s been a while since she has used this on you.

“Mmm, mi amor. And your aim? Don’t push it up like this,” She grabbed your hand to reenact it. The ball thumped as it bounced – showing how you usually hit. More of her weight was on you, her front deliciously pressed on your back. “I noticed you tend to do that.”

“Oh, do I?”

You were playing dumb now. Although, with skins inevitably brushing, it doesn't take long for the two of you to crumble and give in to do something with the tension.

“Fuck this.” Sam muttered, fingers digging on your thighs as she immediately hoisted you up to the pool table. Back of your thigh’s skin rubbed to the rough texture of its surface, somewhat adding to your gnawing hunger.

Sam was bouncing with excitement to take you in here. Mouths crashing in dire need of each other, she explored your mouth as though she hasn’t before, tugging your bottom lip until you tasted iron.

“Oh, oh… god,” you whimper.

Sam gawks at you with darkened eyes. “You think you can tease me like that?”

Your jaw slacked as Sam's teeth sunk in the skin of your neck, far from finished and continued by nibbling with pent up fervor, and the pleasure of her ministrations as the moans rolled off your tongue with ease. Her open mouthed kisses were messy against your skin but nevertheless, you welcomed her through arching your neck to give her more space to paint you red and purple.

Some of the balls clanked as you guys moved desperately, grinding on each other.

“Look at you.” She giggled and had your cheeks on a firm grip. “My pretty girl so eager to get fucked dumbly. Did you feel my cock earlier at your little tease of a show?”

You helplessly looked at her with half-lidded eyes, nodding.

“Yes, please…Sam,”

“Please what?” She mocked you, doe eyes filled with mirth. Her hands slowly moved from your cheek to your neck. Sam gives it a squeeze, making you hum in delight. “I won’t continue if you don’t use your words properly.”

“I…I want you to breed me, like you said months ago,” you murmured and looked away.

Blood rushed in your clit. You were throbbing in need and full of embarrassment. But it was the truth that you wanted to be fulfilled. You didn’t know it caught Sam in a surprise, her joy and libido had gone through the roof.

Sam relishes onto this, a wolfish smile on her features as she takes every inch of your skin with her lips and hands. And you? you can barely keep up, clung onto your girlfriend’s neck to gravitate yourself in the spiraling haze in your head, pretty sounds continuously tumbling off your mouth.

What you want, is what you’ll get.

You managed to take off your top, now almost completely bare in front of your girlfriend.

“Good girl. So, so good. I knew you had it in you, mi amor.” You’re met with Sam’s patronizing smile. You gulp in excitement at the praise she’d given you. “You remember your safe word right?” She asked as her hands wandered, pulling your own shorts down and underwear. As you nodded, a predatory look was fixed on her face. “I’m going to make you forget it, I promise.”

Her irises were ignited with a newfound desire, turned you on your back and bent over as previously, against the pool table.

Sam stroked her strap and adjusted your legs. She wanted you wide and ready. Your slick was smeared on your innermost thighs and some of them formed with strings of your arousal, greeting her as she spread you out. God, she can’t wait to ruin you.

Without warning, the skin of your pulsating hole was being dragged out by the strap's length and all you can do is whimper loudly in complaint. The head teased you a little with her pace agonizingly slow. As she pulled out though it didn't last as she decided to ram the entire length back inside of you, absolutely filling you to the brim. You moaned as it burned inside of you. Sam reach on your tits for balance as she started thrusting, picking up a pace. With all things going on at once, your eyes rolled at the back of your head and face pressed against the rough surface.

"Wait... oh my god, fuck, wait!" You trembled underneath her, your palms outward against her the table, weakly attempting to push away determined Sam. "So- so big, Sammy, I don't... oh! d-don't think, I can't!" You deeply underestimated her cock. But reeling onto it was simply addicting that you felt conflicted.

“You can and you will. You wanted this, didn’t you (y/n/n)?” She mocks you again. Sam was right, you wanted this. “Whoring yourself to me, this is the least you can do. Fucking. Take. It.” Your girlfriend punctuated each of her words with a hard thrust, each time you swore that it went deeper into your walls.

Sam was spurred on with your erotic reactions. She wanted to see your limit, see you truly fall apart. For god’s sake, you were already dripping wet, gushing and smeared all over Sam’s cock and hips. Once she found a rhythm pleasing to you both, she moaned along you as the base also met her clit – sending shocks on her end as well.

You were so fucked out right now and an orgasm was ripped out of you so suddenly. “Nngh… oh!”

Breath heaving, you felt the wetness run down your legs. Sam slowed her movements and stayed deep inside of your walls. More liquid gushed out of you, mixed with your girlfriend’s fake cum. It felt heavy and so full inside of you that you can’t get enough. It was beyond gratifying and out of body experience.

“Another one, come on. I have to fill you up to the brim,” Sam whispered against your ear, white-hot that it sent shivers down your spine. Your hips surely will bruise after this, as she resumed pounding relentlessly against the fine wood. It also made you embarrassingly more wet, too. Her pounding didn’t falter at all, Sam’s own hips still at work.

“Fuck– I….Ah!” Your eyes were squeezed shut.

Sam took pride in your current state. She gripped you tighter on your lower back and the other firm on the edge of the table. Sheer sweat already covered the two of you and the pool table continued to shake, now no longer in a prim and proper placement; instead it was crooked due to the movements that were forced upon it. You were fucking like animals.

A vast incoherent mumblings came in a slew to you. Your head pressed against the table and tears came out of the corner of your eyes. Your ears weakly register the mean giggling of Sam. The erotic sound of the skin-to-skin slapping continued to fill the space of your room, synchronizing with the creaking sound of the table. With your mouth agape, you felt the shaft being thrusted in a different angle, the cock’s tip kissing your cervix repeatedly. Sam dug so deep into you that it made you dizzy already.

“Gonna fill you up real good,” Sam continued to penetrate you mercilessly, her aggressive and determined grunts vibrating pleasingly to your body and adding to the carnal state both of you were in. It was too easy to sliver her cock in and out of you now, fully lubricated given your sopping core. “My breedable little bitch. Fuck, I’d say you’re meant for this. Meant to take this huge cock, hm?” The stretch had you bucking your hips onto Sam, gyrating along her teasing thrusts in and out. “Tell me how good it feels. How I make you feel so good.” Her honeyed voice taunting you. Begging you.

You envision Sam’s words to your heart. If only it were possible, you wouldn’t mind a single bit of carrying her child. After all, there are countless good qualities that your girlfriend beautifully possesses.

“You… you feel so fucking good against me,” A strained, throaty moan tumbled out of you. Sam hummed in your validation. “O-only you can have me- do me like this, Sammy…”

With your reassurance, came the rocking feeling of being so full again. Now Sam doesn’t move an inch, refusing to do so and determined to keep all of it plugged inside of you. You’re sure that she has moulded her entire cock out of your warm walls, stretched it out with no hesitation until it explored undiscovered spots from before.

To your shock, Sam flipped you again. It was insane how she recovered so quickly. Almost buck naked she sat now on the pool table and made you come up to ride her properly. She’s met with barely a resistance on your pussy as she easily shoved it up again with no trouble, moaning loudly and growling possessively as the curve of her length faintly made its outline known to your lower tummy’s skin.

“God you look so beautiful with my cock inside of you.” Her grunts were vivid as Sam’s white hot breath directly hit your ears. You feel your core gush more wetness, body all feverish, loving how she's also desperate and enjoying this much as you do.

She needs you. She admires you. Sam wants all of you.

You bounced helplessly and cried some more, to the point that your safeword dangerously hovered on the tip of your tongue. Until finally, Sam emptied out her fake cum inside of you – some of them dribbling down and smeared some more. Both of you were heavily breathing and Sam balanced your bodies – yours being slumped and weak against her, breathing ragged and eyelids heavy. You were fully spent and satisfied.

“So beautiful. Are you alright, mi amor?” Sam asked in pure concern. The lust on her eyes slowly dissipated, soft and only focused on your current state.

“Y-yes,”

Then a person barges in. You’re pretty sure that it’s a man who just squealed. He caught the sight of you and your girlfriend in a compromising position. You jump slightly and it was a bad idea, because one: you are naked, and two: Sam was still nestled deep inside of you. She also grunted at your accidental rocking.

Your stomach churned as you and Sam sober up quickly. Of course, you didn't like being seen like this if it weren’t only for Sam’s eyes to perceive you unashamedly. As expected, Sam hurriedly covered you first – fast and most as she can, at least. Your back was turned away from the man who entered the room, facing the wall.

Meanwhile, Sam had her chin tilted up, seemingly exasperated. If it weren't for your comforting touch on her forearm, she's sure of combusting in a messier manner, sporting the intimidating signature look on her demeanor. She almost looked unrecognizable with her cold and unamused gaze.

"I instructed you to knock three times." Sam quipped with a deep voice. “The receiver was also there, was it not? You could have buzzed in and waited outside.”

"Miss Loomis.. I- I- I did, I knocked before—”

Being in closer proximity to her, you felt some wetness gush out of your pussy. Blood rushed on your cheeks, as you made the previously pristine and high-end of a pool table now all messy and coated of your fluid. You caught a sliver of Sam’s defined hipbones and lines in her abdomen were prominent more than ever. She tucked her strap back as she pulled the cycling shorts up as quickly as she could. The room felt still for what feels like hours.

"And is that enough? I strictly told you to never enter, especially when I’m with my partner."

Sam had a scrutinizing look over him. She’s more than fucking pissed. The mob boss has never seen his face before. It must've been a new recruit. If it were any other mistake, maybe Sam would have spared him.

But no, he had to walk in while you were naked.

She bent down to reach underneath the pool table. She retrieves a gun. Your eyes widen but she hushes you, reassuring that everything is fine. although her eyes expressed the clear fuming with her jaw clenched, you gulped at the sight.

Sam scoffed, she hated being messy in front of you. For her, increases the likely of you leaving her. "Don't turn around." She orders you still with gentleness lace on her tone. "I mean it. Just… stay here."

Okay, you're more than fine with the sight.

Definitely so wet and turned on.

Sam moves and so does the man. Out of the room, you hear a few clicks and the cocking sound of the gun – the metal, spring, and unlocking of the weapon and you don't look further than that. And with the door slightly ajar, there's a loud sound that clearly indicates a shot. It's quick and followed with a heavy thud. A clear shot has been made. Your eyes widened. It rang your ears a little but it soon faded.

"What the hell was that?"

"He's a dumb one, a new recruit." Your girlfriend replied blankly. She fluidly moves around the room and reaches for her phone, eyes not leaving your naked body. "I need you to do some cleaning up- uh huh. in here, near the living room- second one, yes." Then she quickly hung up.

"I hate being interrupted. He had to ruin it. Almost saw you, too. I'm sorry baby, but I had to finish him off.”

Sam sighed and rubbed her temple. She wasn't a fan of losing control in front of her beloved. Although this one tested her greatly, feeling an immense protectiveness, she didn't like one bit having any of her men seeing you in this vulnerable and naked state. Prancing around normally as though your sight isn't engraved in their filthy little dimwit brains. Now she worried only about your reaction; knowing your initial response was to run away, same as you did after opening up to her even then. She always pulled you close—held you tighter—whenever you did.

She left a tender kiss behind your ear. You were immediately flooded with comfort. Her touch had a tendency to numb your worries down. It was familiar and gentle. Were you afraid? Surprisingly, you were not.

Out of all times you’ve seen her ‘lose’ it – was seemingly always out of making sure that you're safe, free from worries, gives you enough room as much as she can (knowing that Sam cannot resist invading your personal space) and has done anything to harm you in any way.

Sure, she just killed in front of you. But now, you can care less – knowing what your girlfriend’s nature and work entails. Besides, she has done it in your honor. In a twisted way, you interpreted it as a sign of her unwavering commitment to you; that you’ve always been a family to her – one that she plans on building one with, anyway. So instead, you reach to cradle Sam’s cheek and pressed a lingering kiss on her irresistible burgundy lips.

“You have me, always. Don’t worry.” You profess to her - a promise you intend to keep.

Sam grinned, visibly relaxing. Finally you fully understood her viewpoint.

Does it make you equally sick? Who the hell knows.

taglist: @not-alesha, @women-lover-kisser , @bluetreecloud20 , @danniackerman , @natsbraids , @melissabarreraswife , @bratydoll , @fantasylandbitch , @rocknr0ll , @mokotodenis123 , @deliriosinrose , @red1culous , @jennasoneanonly , @gaylorvader , @pixielovers2account **i can't tag others? :[

do not repost/translate on other sites. © wandagcre

#gg.writes #sam carpenter x fem reader #sam carpenter x you #sam carpenter smut #sam carpenter x reader #sam carpenter x female reader #sam loomis #lesbian #wlw #fanfic #au #scream vi

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jaysgirlx · 4 months

Note

What about jason and reader having a heated moment when Bruce walks in and ends up having THE TALK with them?

❥ pairing: jason todd x batfam gn!reader

❥ summary: jason is fed up with you ignoring me and he needs to know what's going through your mind, he's not a goddamn mind reader y'know.

❥ warnings: suggestive motions, sensual touching, receiving "the talk", reader is a like bruce's favorite but not biological kid.

❥ wc: 1.1k

Out of all people, Jason never thought he'd meet someone like you, and he never expected to crave you. It hadn't crossed his mind that he might want to be sexually involved with someone again but you sparked that fire all over again. Don't get the wrong idea, Jason slept around on the occasion when it came to you it could not be a one-night thing.

You came home right on time for dinner that night and sat down right next to him. But things were different, you didn't greet him like usual and spent most of the night talking to Dick who had been sitting on your right. Jason wasn't a child he was going to have a hissy fit over this but he definitely wasn't going to play these mind games with you.

After dinner was over you decided to stay and help Alfred wash the plates, he obviously told you he could do it himself but you told him to take the night off, it was just a couple plates. Jason liked that about you, the way you always thought about others and not much about yourself. The idea that he could take care of you, that could live in mind forever.

You stood over the sink washing each plate one by one while muttering to yourself as you gasped as you felt the warm grip, cupping at your waist from behind. He gazed lower towards your chest which heaved at a steady pace. You liked his touch and yet you wanted to escape so badly.

"Jason?"

"Did I do something to offend you, princess?"

"Of course not Jason, I just-"

"Fuck" you muttered along with a soft moan escaping from your lips while his thumb pressed against your lower back. His hands found their way up your shirt, gently grazing over your soft skin. What he doing wasn't much but it felt like everything. You felt that you might just explode if he continued because you really didn't want him to stop, not like this.

"Tell me what I did, so we can fix this," he said while moving his hands back down to your waist and turning your body to face his. Your face was flushed and your panted and he had barely even got to touch you. You wrapped your arms around his neck bringing him even closer to you, bodies touching. In this position you grind on him, that was an idea you not just liked but needed. "It's not what you did, it's what you didn't do idiot"

A snicker leaves his lips as he leans towards your neck, "And what haven't I done for you princess?" Jason takes his sweet time leaving kisses n marks on your neck, as much as he wanted to fuck you, he still wanted to tease you. "I protect you when needed, I buy you food and I watch your shows with you"

"And yet you still haven't fucked me"

Before any more words could leave your mouth, Jason's lips were on yours pushing you up onto the counter, holding you by the thighs. You wrapped your legs around his back while your hands gripped his arms, feeling his muscles flex through his shirt. He grunts as you feel him up not being used to your hands roaming his body. In return, he would squeeze your thighs while occasionally swiping his tongue over your bottom lip earning a whine from you.

You finally wrapped your arms around his neck and break away from the kiss for a bit, "Can you take your shirt for me, Jay, I want to feel you more please" Fuck, you could probably get him to do anything with a simple please falling from your sweet mouth. You watch him peeling off his shirt and place it in your lap. "You'll be wearing that later when I'm done with you," he says before capturing your lips once again. The two of you were so busy with each other that you didn't even hear when someone entered the kitchen,

A loud cough set shivers down your spine and causes the both of you to immediately fix yourselves. You both thought everyone had gone to their rooms and hadn't occurred to you that Bruce might come back downstairs.

"Bruce!"

"Jason. Get off y/n. Now. Y/n please get the counter that's not safe"

"For fuck's sake Bruce, she's not 5. She can sit on the goddamn counter, jeez" Jason says annoyed, as he slips his shirt back onto his rugged body. The thought of sex on the counter was far from leaving your mind, though Bruce had caught you way too early into the act. You slid off the table and, readjusted your clothes, slightly embarrassed.

"Bruce, can we talk about this privately? We really don't need another-"

"I know but I'm still giving both of you the talk"

The two of you groaned in unison.

"Have the two of you been using protection?" Bruce asked while writing on the whiteboard in front of him. He had seemed to be giving the two a list of contraceptives. You nodded hoping this could end very soon. Jason was nearly asleep, with his head resting on your shoulder.

Bruce had dragged the two of you to your room and brought in a whiteboard and began to not only explain what sex is but also tell his own sex adventures, that nearly made you gag. This man was practically your father, and you really did not want to know about his sex life.

This had been going on for about 3 hours now, and the two of you now knew a lot of things you really didn't need to know. You stroked Jason's hair as a distraction, playing with his small white stripes. His eyes fluttered open and met yours for a brief moment. "Sorry", he mouthed quietly, knowing this stupid lecture was all his fault.

He had wished he could've been more patient, but Jason didn't know how to resist his urges especially when it came to you. He could still feel his cock throbbing at the thought of fucking you raw on the kitchen counter. Fuck, even during this lecture he couldn't stop thinking about you.

"Alright, so what have the both of you learned?" Bruce asks, looking at the two of you, who were too busy looking at each other to even hear him. You smiled at Jason wrapped your arms and his neck and pulled him in for a quick kiss. "Never be sorry for wanting me Jay" you whispered softly. You rested your head on his chest and leaned back into your bed. Realizing the two of you, just wanted to be happy in each other arms Bruce left the room, happy to know the both of you were happy with each other, which was all he really wanted to know.

#✩ kleo's kollection ✩#✩ secret messages ✩#jason todd #jason peter todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #jason todd is red hood #red hood #red hood x you #red hood imagine #red hood x reader #red hood smut #jason todd smut

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stardustdreams-andcaffeine · 2 years

Text

In the Blink of an Eye | Bucky Barnes (Mafia AU)

mafia!bucky barnes x f!reader ✧ oneshot

Summary: With Bucky Barnes, the mafia lord of New York, as your boyfriend, you're usually safe from any and all harm. With a date night gone wrong and your boyfriend distracted, though, anything can happen in the blink of an eye.

A/N: Another one of my favorites because come on, who doesn't love mob Bucky? If you couldn't tell by now, angst is my thing lol, but I'm working on some fluffier oneshots! True to my word, this one's a reader insert for all you lovelies, enjoy and as always keep dreaming 🤍

Warnings: mafia!Bucky, violence, angst, kidnapping, drugging, language, mentions of torture, fluffy ending because I just can't help myself.

Word Count: 5,896

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦

I knew the dangers when I started. I knew the risks. I welcomed them, I embraced them. They did not scare me and they haven't even now, so many months later.

We always seem to think we know ourselves so well, that we know what we'd do in every situation. I thought I knew.

Then I fell in love.

When you're in love, well, everything changes. For the first time, there's another person that you cannot live without. For the first time, you begin to realize just how far you'd go to keep that love, to strengthen it. I used to avoid love, used to think it was worthless.

Then I met Bucky Barnes, Wolf of the North and mafia lord of New York, and I fell harder than I ever have before.

I love him more than anything else in my life, and so I took on the risks willingly. When you love someone that deeply, that ardently, nothing is a risk. Besides, I knew that he would do everything in his power to protect me. Bucky would never let anything bad happen to me.

That's where I went wrong. Not in overestimating him, but underrating what can happen in the blink of an eye.

"Bucky, I think that guy's following us"

He acts as though he's heard me, but his eyes are glued to the phone in his hand as we weave through the crowds in the New York night. He never usually ignores me like this, and even though I'm growing annoyed, I'm hurt by his lack of attention too.

"We'll be fine, even if he is he wouldn't be stupid enough to try anything" Bucky brushes off, not even looking up from his phone. I let out a small huff as we approach the front of the bar and nightclub he owns.

Before we make it to the doors, I grab his well-muscled arm and gently tug him to face me. He looks up now, his usually softened ice blue eyes plagued with business and stress.

"I thought tonight was just for us, my love" I remind. Something softens in his gaze but he ices it down and doesn't as much as touch me.

"It is, but I have some business to attend to first" his gravelly voice replies.

"Business?" I ask, lifting an eyebrow and smiling softly at him, "You can get business any night, but I-"

"Just give me ten minutes, Y/N." my boyfriend interrupts, and if it were any other day I'd say something back. Too exhausted from work to want an argument, though, I simply sigh and decide to show him patience.

"Alright, you have 10 minutes."

We walk inside, but before we do I cast one more glance back towards the man who I saw following us. My heart hits the floor when my eyes connect directly with his across the street. His mousy brown hair and disheveled brown leather jacket and white shirt set me on edge, so I quickly turn around and follow Bucky into his club.

As soon as I'm back by his side, he presses a gentle but burning hand to my back, his touch, however small, still intoxicating me after all this time. Normally, he'd lean over and whisper sweet nothings or promises of love in my ear and I'd shiver at the whisper of his voice so near, but now he barely even touches me. His mind is so preoccupied with work, I know that, but it has been all week since this weekend is his rival's gala.

But I feel ignored and unappreciated and it's killing me.

The pounding music of the club wraps around me, making it harder to keep my thoughts straight. Bucky and I walk straight to the back of the club, where his business no doubt waits. He pulls away from me without so much as a goodbye, and my heart tugs. Quickly I grab his hand, making him glance at me.

"Bucky, this guy is really freaking me out," I repeat, and I know he said I'll be fine but I need him to be here with me, "Please, stay with me."

"Doll, you're gonna be fine. Now-"

I cut him off, getting frustrated.

"No Bucky! I can fight, sure, but if he-" I interrupt, only for him to cut me right back off.

"Drop it, Y/N. Just go to the bar or something" Bucky growls, pulling out of my grip and walking into the office without a single glance back at me.

My heart cracks.

He's never like this, ever. He's usually so protective it's overbearing, and yet the one time I need that to feel secure, he refuses. I can take care of myself, but I'm not stupid. And no matter how capable and independent I may be, Bucky brings a level of safety to me that I can't describe.

And yet here he is, leaving me alone in his bar with someone following us.

I huff out a sigh and try not to look too forlorn as I traipse over to the bar. Almost as soon as I've arrived and sat at an open bar stool, the bartender who has become somewhat of a friend over the last few months approaches me.

"And how is my favorite customer?" He asks, his hands busy preparing a drink. I shrug, offering him a soft smile.

"I'm alright, Lee," I respond, playing with the edge of my sleeve, "Just a whiskey please."

"Sure thing, Y/N," Lee says, his brows furrowed as he steps away to make my drink. When the glass slides in front of me, I grab onto it with tired fingers.

"So, do you want me to ask what's really going on or do you want me to believe the lie?" The bartender asks, making me raise my gaze from the amber liquid and to my friend's face. He must see the tears gathering in my eyes because a hint of concern grows. I never break like this.

"Believe the lie, please" I nearly whisper, desperate to not have this conversation right now. Lee stares at me for a second longer before nodding.

"Let me know if you need anything else."

When he walks away to take care of another customer, I'm left feeling alone and forgotten in my boyfriend's bar. I sip on the alcohol and seconds turn to minutes, and ten minutes soon becomes twenty. I feel patience slipping and am seconds away from barging into that room and giving my boyfriend a piece of my mind when another voice pipes up beside me.

"I thought tonight was date night," The voice says, and I can't put a face to it. When I turn, the haze of alcohol clears instantly and my spine snaps straight. The music dulls into a hum. The lights grow darker. The color leeches from my body. My hand trembles around the almost empty glass.

It's him. He's got the same messy hair, the same brown jacket. The same hungry eyes.

Instantly, I clamp down hard on my rising panic. I refuse to fall into hysterics of any kind right now. This is the safest place for me to be right now, so I should have nothing to worry about. Instead, I simply shake my head and turn forward, downing the last of my second whiskey.

"You're another kind of stupid if you think anything is going to happen to me in here," I inform, my tone even and calm despite the throbbing, tearing panic within me that makes me want to sprint for Bucky.

"Oh sweetheart, I'm not going to do anything," the man responds, his tone just as even as mine.

I furrow my brows at the ease of his response, but all at once it hits me. My head begins to spin and with each second that passes, my mind begins to fog. No. No. No.

He drugged me.

How did he get it into my drink?

How did I not see it? Smell it? Taste it?

I shove out of my chair so fast that the stool screeches against the hard floor. The sound is absorbed into the mass of the club, though, and an arm snakes around my waist.

"No," I manage out, but the connection between my body and brain seems to be almost severed. The words come out sluggish and far away and when I try to pull from the stalker's hold, my body barely moves.

Instead, I'm left stumbling like I'm drunk with this man guiding me towards the exit as if he's helping me to a cab. The bouncers. Ed and Damien, they won't let him take me. They'll stop him, they'll get him away from me.

"Don't make a scene, Y/N. Your boyfriend isn't even out of his office." My kidnapper's voice slithers into my ear, making my stomach church with nausea.

My boyfriend. Bucky. Oh God, where is Bucky? Why can't I seem to remember where Bucky went? Why he's not here? Why I was alone?

"Bucky, Bucky's gonna-" I slur out, sounding absolutely wasted to the unknowing ear.

"I know, Mr. Barnes going to be so glad I got you home safely," he says suddenly, his entire body shifting tone. I furrow my brows and manage to look and see us just passing Ed and Damien at the door. Even though I can really see straight, I see the two bouncers block the exit when they see me.

"Hey man, what's going on?" I hear Ed ask.

"Nothing much to see, Boss just wanted me to take his lady home," the stalker says, his grip on me tighter than it must appear, "She had a little too much to drink."

Too much to drink? Did I? Why can't I remember what's happening? I didn't think I did but...but maybe I did. Who is this man? He said he's taking me home, maybe Bucky had to cancel date night. It was date night, right?

Both Ed and Damien furrow their brows and look to me, immediate concern drawing on their features when they see the state of me. Some lucid part of me screams to alert them of something, anything, but the thought doesn't come to fruition. It dies somewhere along a neuron and leaves me tripping over my own feet and speechless.

"I've never seen you before, man. How do we know that boss told you to take her home?" Damien asks. My escort doesn't miss a step.

"The Wolf is in states nowadays, isn't he boys?" The stalker replies, and that lucid part sparks up again in protest at the familiar words. That's the code phrase to ensure safety in moments like this.

He knows the code phrase.

They're going to let him take me.

I do what I can to struggle as Ed and Damien step aside, but it only comes across as trying to walk on my own, because the bouncers chuckle slightly.

"Relax Y/N, don't overdo it" Ed quips.

"Rest up, miss. I'll let boss know you got home safely." Damien follows up.

And the lucid part of me fades into the drug haze as my kidnapper guides me out of the safest place on earth without so much of a gun fight. The cool night air slaps me in the face and I whisper, trying to struggle again only to forget why I'm struggling in the first place. My body feels like I'm running through neck-high mud, anyways. Any sharp movements I try to make end in my hands barely moving.

"Bucky," I breathe, an urgency in that word. Beyond the haze and the forgetfulness and the confusion, there's a deep and piercing need to scream out that name. I can't figure out why, but I need him. I can't...I need...

My head's spinning, or maybe it's the world. My stomach is twisting and turning and twisting and turning and tw-

"He can't save you now. He didn't even put up a fight to protect you," that ugly, slimy voice says as a car door opens, "What a shame. A treasure like you should be guarded. But I guess finder's keeper's."

Then I'm shoved into a car and everything goes black.

||| James Buchanan Barnes

Y/N's going to actually kill me. As in my liver on a plate kill me.

The meeting that I promised would only be ten minutes has now gone for forty, and by now she's probably restless, hungry, and a little tipsy.

Great, and I pissed her off earlier so tonight is going to be so much fun.

I pull a hand through my dark hair with a slight groan as the man I was doing business with finally leaves my office. I sit for a second in the semi-quiet of my room, the pounding of music and laughter dulled by the walls. I know I shouldn't have gotten short with her earlier, but damn she wouldn't let up on me with the whole "stalker" thing.

My club is the safest place for her. I would never let anything happen to her, so for her to even think that...I sigh again, shoving it from my mind. It doesn't matter anymore. All that matters is finding my girlfriend and making all of this shit up to her. I rise from my leather chair and walk out of my office, the dulled sounds roaring into full force.

My eyes immediately shoot towards the bar to find my girl only to see an absence of her. With furrowed brows, I sweep my gaze towards the dance floor. Even crowded with people, I don't see her. I roll my eyes instantly, knowing what probably happened. She probably went home, probably's pissed as hell at me. I brush off my suit jacket and walk up to Lee at the bar, immediately garnering his attention. He smiles at me.

"Hey boss, can I get you anything?" He asks.

"No I'm good, thanks Lee," I respond, leaning on the bar with one arm and pinching the bridge of my nose, "Have you seen Y/N? I think I pissed her off."

There's a pause that makes me look over at my bartender. He's looking at me weirdly as he slides a drink to a customer and laughs slightly.

"Real funny, boss," Lee says, cleaning out a few glasses. I straighten up slightly, my brows furrowing deeper and my jaw setting.

"What's so funny, Lee? Have you seen her or not?" I ask, quickly losing my patience. I always thought he had a thing for her, always was too-

"Are you fucking with me right now?" Lee asks genuinely, cutting off my thoughts. When I don't respond, he realizes I'm not joking and his face goes grave, "So you didn't send her home twenty minutes ago?"

The world tilts around me and every ounce of anger, annoyance, and frustration leaves me in an instant. My heart drops like an anchor at sea and I don't dare to believe what Lee's words mean.

"She left twenty minutes ago," I begin slowly, trying desperately to hold myself together and not jump to a conclusion, "With someone who said I sent them to take her home."

Lee's face is slowly falling as he realizes the situation at hand. I feel so sick to my stomach that I can barely stand when Lee gives a faint nod. My world stops and then starts and then stops again.

"I never gave that order." I breathe.

"Bucky, I think that guy's following us"

I brushed her off.

"Bucky, this guy is really freaking me out. Please, stay with me."

I ignored her. I snapped at her. I prioritized work over the light of my life. I told her she'd be fine.

I left her.

Lee is saying something to me but I don't hear it as I shove away and storm over to Ed and Damien, my bouncers. My face is a painting of fury and shame and worry and panic and it's a storm that catches Ed and Damien's attention. They stop what they're doing and look to me, their brows furrowing.

"Boss, what's-"

"You let her leave?" I strangle out, my heart slamming in my chest and my fists balled by my sides, "You let a stranger take her away?"

The two share a confused glance before looking back to me.

"A stranger? Boss, the man who took Y/N home knew the code," Ed informs.

"Did you not send him?" Damien suddenly asks, his face tightening in instant panic.

He knew the code. He knew the code and he somehow got my doll, my fighter, out without so much of a warning.

And it's all my fault.

"Shut the club down, get everyone out. Call together all of our forces. Tell them-" My voice breaks, raw emotion clawing up my throat, "Tell them Y/N's been taken."

I don't wait for a response and shove out into the cold night, gasping for air like a fish out of water. I was so obsessed with the gala this week that Hydra, our arch nemesis, was putting on, that I stopped paying attention to the only part of my life that matters. I have a lot of things, all of which I could live without, but I cannot live without her.

And I left her.

I left her and now she's gone.

She tried to warn me, she tried to tell me someone was following us. She tried to get me to stay with her, to not leave her. And yet I walked away. I just walked away like she didn't even matter and I left vulnerable and alone the only person in this entire fucking universe I love. It's all my fault, and I'll spend every second of the rest of my life trying to make it up to her.

If I can even find her in time, before she-

No. I will find her and she will live. I will burn down this whole damn world if I have to, and I will not stop. Not until every person who laid a finger on my girl is dead. I will paint the world crimson with their blood until I find her, and once I do I will never, never, ignore or leave her again.

That's not a threat. It's a promise.

||| Your POV

The collar secured to my throat is too tight, the metal no doubt leaving red grooves in my skin.

It hurts worse when Alexander Pierce, the mafia lord of Hydra, tugs the matching chain leash attached to it, pulling me closer to him and almost making me stumble mid-step.

The gala is glamorous, and my gown is nothing short of it as well. Pierce even went through the trouble of having someone do my hair. What he didn't do was my makeup.

That way anyone could see the dried blood and bruises littering my skin.

It's a scare tactic, I know that. A way to signal to everyone here that he's in charge and that he can't be defied. But I think he's got a bigger reason in mind for it all, the collar and the hideous marks on my skin.

And that reason is my boyfriend.

I can practically feel people's eyes follow me as I walk as steadily as I can at the end of Pierce's leash. Despite the radiating, excruciating pain that each step incurs, I keep my body steady and my chin high. I let the policemen and officials that are on his payroll and all of the members of his mafia see my bruises and cuts. He's parading me, so I'm going to put on a damn show.

A show to hide how mind-numbingly terrified I am right now.

Behind my set jaw and my cold eyes, I'm fighting back tears. The pain is mixing with the fear of the last few days to make a perfect storm within me. I'm terrified that any moment could be my last, that more pain could await me, that Bucky might never come for me

Or worse. That he doesn't even care.

Regardless of whether or not he cares, I'm still not going to give a single detail out. Even when Pierce himself tortured me until all I knew was blood and pain and fear, I said nothing. He didn't get a single word out of me. I just sat there, strapped to an iron chair, and took it. Every blow, every slice, every shout. At times my mind spared me and allowed me to slip into the sweet nothingness of unconsciousness, but it wouldn't be long after that I awoke to my head shoved into cold water to revive me.

And here I am, now taking a seat at the Dias of his gala room beside the mafia lord of Hydra, my boyfriend's sworn rival, with a collar around my neck tied to his wrist.

The music that wafts from the live orchestra is disturbingly jovial and light, filling the air with a sense of peace that provides such a stark juxtaposition to my insides that I almost puke. I sit ever so stiffly in my chair beside Pierce, my back burning with each movement because of the new stripes across its tender flesh.

As I feel warm liquid slide down my skin, I suddenly understand why Pierce insisted my dress be a dark maroon. I thought it was as at first just a beacon to everyone to show who I was with because it was his signature color, but I know better now. It's to hide the blood that seeps from my still-healing and probably infected wounds.

"Exquisite, isn't it?" Pierce asks, and I don't even have to turn towards him to know he wears a devilish smirk. A cruel man's trademark of victory.

I stay silent.

I hear him click his tongue as he sits back in his ornate chair, "All this quality time together and all I've heard from your voice has been your screams. No matter how pretty they are, doesn't seem polite to me."

This time, I can't hold myself back.

"Neither is kidnapping another human being and treating them like a prisoner of war," I announce, my voice raw and hoarse from the screaming and shouting of the past few days, "So pardon me if I'm not feeling too polite."

It's a bold move, but I make it anyways, gambling that he wouldn't lash out in the midst of his party. A little breath of relief escapes me when he chuckles.

"And here I was under the impression you were a sweet, soft-spoken sort of woman. My sources misjudged you." Pierce responds.

Of course he's been watching me. A scheme like this doesn't happen overnight. He's been planning this for a while, now. Pierce knew exactly when Bucky would be most vulnerable, when the defenses would be the loosest. It makes me want to scream.

"You're going to die for this," I whisper, quietly but not softly. There's his laugh again.

"Oh honey," Pierce starts, his voice condescending as if I were a toddler, "Careful with blind faith. What makes you so sure Barnes will make it out of this alive?"

His words unsettle something so deep within me that if I spend more than a few seconds touching on it, I'll shatter. Instead, I turn to look at Alexander Pierce for the first time since we've sat down. My eyes are cold and harsh upon him and the shining metal of the collar that tethers us.

"What makes you so sure it will be Bucky who kills you?"

He has the good sense to look the slightest bit unnerved, and I give him a smirk of my own, "Like you said before, your men sorely misjudged me."

Before he can respond, one of the guards that stands behind us steps forward and whispers something in the mafia lord's ear. Whatever he says makes Pierce grin fiercely as he looks back to me and gives the collar a tug.

"Your White Wolf is here."

My heart jumps so hard that I forget how to function. For a moment, everything else fades and dims away, even the biting pain wrapping me like a blanket of thorns. I snap my head back forward and when I see him I swear I almost break right then and there.

Because his eyes are already on me, and they're coated with fury.

It takes every ounce of strength I have to not dissolve into tears, to not let my fear show.

He's here.

Bucky found me.

When our eyes meet, something so primal and raw ignites in his features. He looks seconds away from shattering as his chest heaves, his eyes scouring every inch of me. I feel undone before him, as if the dress doesn't hide a single thing that Pierce and his men have done to me.

"James Barnes," Pierce announces, snapping the connection between us swiftly, "I thought you'd never come. I hope you don't mind, I think I've stolen your date for the evening."

Then he wraps his palm around the chain leash and yanks it so hard that I nearly tumble out of the chair. His hand is there to stop me as it grabs my jaw in a bruising grip. Pierce hums, turning my face side to side before forcing it forward to the crowd that now watches. Bucky is painted with dark rage and looks seconds away from ending Pierce's life.

"She makes quite the pretty pet."

Bucky begins to storm forward only for two of the guests who belong to Pierce's mafia to grip onto his arms and prevent him.

"Take your fucking hand off of her, Pierce, or I swear I'll-" Bucky growls, and hearing his voice is enough to ease some of the knot that's wound in my chest these last few days.

"You'll what?" Alexander asks, releasing my chin but remaining ever so calmly in his seat beside me, "You must not care that much for my pet, after all you were the one to ignore her."

There's a bone-crushing silence and I see that same something shatter in my love's gaze.

"You shoved her off, you left her alone," Alexander cuts out, reaching out and running a hand through my hair, "You so carelessly let her slip through your fingers and here you are pretending to care."

"What I did was unforgivable, I know that," Bucky says suddenly, and I see even from here the silver lining his eyes as he speaks, "But she is a good person. She doesn't deserve this. If you need to punish someone, don't let it be her."

"You don't deserve her," Pierce says, and I want to scream that he's wrong but Bucky cuts me off. His eyes clash with mine and I fall in love all over again.

"I know," he says so softly that I almost miss it. I try to shake my head 'no', but Pierce tightens the collar, making me whimper.

Bucky shoves off the two men holding him, composing himself and standing stiffly a good ways before us.

"Let her go, Pierce," Bucky reiterates, his tone harsh once more and his stare pure murder, "I won't ask again."

Pierce clicks his tongue beside me, letting up on my leash to let me relax slightly.

"Oh Barnes, did you really waltz in here thinking you'd walk back out?"

There's a deadly silence and I swear you can hear my heart smash into the floor even though I expected this. With every second between his last words and his next, I grow more panicked.

"I have you surrounded, Barnes. You're not getting out of this," Pierce announces. Bucky doesn't look the least bit unnerved, though.

Pierce reaches you to an ear piece I didn't know was there and touches it, "Guns at attention."

From my spot next to him, all I hear is static. There's no response coming back, and the confusion becomes evident on Alexander's face at the same moment I realize what's going on. Hope like a new sunrise breaks in me and I look over at Bucky to find him smirking. He winks at me once before furrowing his brows at Pierce.

"What's wrong, can't reach your men?" Bucky taunts.

And then all Hell breaks loose.

Guns are firing and people are screaming and within seconds, Bucky's mafia that's already infiltrated the gala hall appears from the woodwork, their guns raised and keeping the few mafia members left under gun point. Bucky just stands coolly in the midst as another deadly silence blankets the room. I can practically feel the rage draining off of Alexander.

"Get him!" Pierce suddenly shouts, and what few men are left charge at Bucky. Including the personal guards around us. The gunfire begins again, and the classy event is soon painted crimson.

I take the brief moment of chaos to my advantage and shoot up from my seat. As soon as Pierce registers that I'm moving, it's too late. Despite the screaming of my body, I sprint behind Pierce's chair and brace one heeled foot at its back. Then, before he can reach for a gun, I wrap the leash he's collared me with around his neck and pull back, strangling him with the own device he subjected me under.

His hands claw desperately at the chain and I feel my exhausted muscles trembling, but I refuse to let up. I keep holding the chain tighter and snap my gaze up in Bucky's direction just in time to see him shoot a guard between the eyes.

"Bucky!" I shout, gaining his attention instantly.

I know I can't hold Pierce off much longer, so Bucky will need to help me take him down while I've got him strangled to the chair. The metal is cutting deep into his skin when Bucky begins fighting desperately to reach us. Before he can, though, Pierce gets a purchase on the chain and yanks with such force that it sends my body flying over him and the chair. I land flat on my back so hard on the tile that the air rushes out of my lungs and every cut and tear rips open.

"Y/N!" Bucky roars, and it rattles my very bones

I gasp and groan in pain simultaneously, desperately trying to get air into my lungs. The second I can breathe again, Pierce is dragging me backwards by the chain.

"No!" I shout, reaching up and gripping the chain before yanking it.

We tug back and forth as he drags me, but I manage to hook my foot around one of the overturned chairs and use the leverage to yank the chain so hard that I hear a snap followed by a shrill yell.

I just broke his wrist.

When I pull again, the chain comes free and a weight lifts from my shoulders. I scramble to my feet, about to sprint away and towards where I last saw Bucky when Pierce's hands grip my shoulders and rip me back. I don't even have time to scream when my back is slammed into a hard wall and Pierce is before me, a knife in his unmangled hand that's pressed to my cheek.

"You little bitch" he seethes.

My chest is heaving with breath and panic as I read back and spit in his face as hard as I can. He recoils slightly and I relish in it. My happiness only lasts a second, though, because his knife is pressing into my cheek. I try to squirm but his body is pressed firmly to mine and pins me to the wall.

"I so didn't want to end you this quickly," Pierce whispers, his voice slithering against my skin.

I keep trying to be strong, to be so strong, but it's getting harder to keep up. I try to not show my fear, but it's getting harder and harder to hide. I feel myself finally breaking after the hell that these last few days have been and just when I think he's going to end it all, he's gone. In a moment, he's off of me and unconscious on the ground.

And Bucky is standing before me, his chest heaving and his eyes wild.

"Bucky," I breathe, already feeling my strength slip away.

I don't have to be strong anymore.

Bucky drops the gun he just rendered Pierce unconscious with, every inch of his face softening upon my bloody, trembling form. He looks a minute away from crying when I stumble forward and crash into him, letting myself break down in his arms that already wrap around my waist and keep me upright. He keeps me so tight to himself that there is no room between us. I bury my face into his neck and let out a sob, my tears mixing with the blood on his suit. I can't tell which of us is shaking harder, but all I can tell is the warmth and security that Bucky's hands bring me.

"Oh doll," Bucky whispers, sending a shiver down my spine, "You're alive. You're alive."

I mumble some sort of affirmation, but I can barely think straight.

"I'm so sorry, doll. I'm so sorry." Bucky repeats it over and over again, "God, Y/N I'm so sorry."

"It's okay, Buck. It's alright," I whisper, but he keeps shaking his head. He pulls back far enough to meet my gaze.

"I've been shitty to you. I should've listened to you, I should never have left you. I am never leaving you again."

"It's okay, I forgive you," I repeat, brushing a bloody hand against his jaw, "Of course it's gonna cost you at least four new pairs of shoes."

At my joke, a laugh of pure relief to have me back in hands escapes his lips. I chuckle softly too, taking in every inch of his breathtaking face. A tear drops down his cheek and he leans his forehead against mine.

"I love you so much, I love you more than life." he breathes.

"I love you too. That's all that kept me breathing, loving you,"I respond, and his lips are on mine in an instant.

Even though it's only been a few days, kissing him feels like I've been in a drought and he's my water. The kiss is desperate and pleading and consuming. It steals whatever strength is left in my knees and I link my arms around his neck to support myself. When he finally pulls away, he leaves a trail of kisses to my nose and then my forehead before tugging me to himself again.

"I'm going to tear him apart for this," Bucky vows, and I know it shouldn't but I still let out a breath of relief at that.

"Is that why he's not dead yet?" I ask, chuckling softly. He does the same, kissing the top of my head.

"That's exactly why," Bucky agrees, pulling back and rubbing a finger along my cheek. He becomes serious again and I feel my heart flutter.

"When I found out you were gone, I lost myself." He says, his throat bobbing as he Cho's my face with his large hands, "Y/N, there is no me without you"

I turn to kiss his hand before leaning into it more.

"I'll always find my way back to you. You're all I have, James"

Another tear works down his cheek before he finally steps to the side. The gala is trashed, but the gunfire is over. Apparently, his men were here hours before anyone else got here. I feel my strength abandoning me, so I lean my weight onto Bucky. He feels this and immediately scoops me into his arms, holding me close to his chest.

"I'm going to kiss every one of these scars when we get back" His voice rumbles, and I smile as I lean my head further into him.

"Let's go home, my love"

And he held up his promise. He never left me again.

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myanmy · 2 months

Text

Ownership

This is my first time writing smut, so be kind please. :)

Summary: Rick and you are in the CRM and you both need a stress relief.

Word count: 2095

Warnings: oral (male recieving), degradation, hickeys, dom/sub, begging, teasing, spanking.

I haven't seen The Ones Who Live yet, I'm not mentally prepared. I created this based on gifs and edits, so haven't mentioned anything specific about the show and there's no spoilers. (Rick has both his hands)

As soon as the man came in you found him insanely hot. He was older, obviously more experienced in every field, the beard and the hair, the muscles that creeped through his shirt every time he moved, what sane person wouldn’t want to spend at least one night with him?

You didn’t have a lot of friends in the CRM, at most they were colleagues. You had learned that in this world it was better to not be close to anyone, you had once and now they were all dead.

The situationship you created with Rick worked perfectly fine. You didn’t remember exactly how or when this started, you just know that you love it when he comes late at night to your house and takes all his frustration out on you. You both silently had agreed to no kissing, not once had your lips touched and while you unconsciously wished they did, you knew better not to, afraid that a deeper feeling would start to form.

Tonight was one of the nights you knew things would be a lot rougher than usual. He was on a mission for a few days and was returning today, on times like these where he would go days without having any type of release was when he went completely off on you. You had prepared yourself, dressed in clothes that you didn’t care a lot about because you knew he would just rip them and decided to go with no panties, you were almost running out of them because of him.

You couldn’t stop the hairs on your arms from standing up when you heard loud knocks on the door of your house. You took a deep breath before gathering the courage to start walking downstairs and when you got to the last steps a few other angry knocks sounded through your house. “I’m coming.” You said, afraid that if he continued he would break the door down.

You let out a gasp, his hand around your throat as soon as the door was slightly opened. He pushed you forcefully against the door, your back colliding with it. His hands were all over you, his lips on your neck, sucking the skin there so hard you were sure there would be a large purple hickey in the morning.

“Rick-” You gasped only to be cut off by two of his fingers entering your mouth.

“Shut up.” He growled and god his voice did things to you. You could already feel the fabric of your shorts clinging to your thighs because of the wetness between them. “On your knees, now.” He ordered and you went down as soon as the words left his lips. You could see his hands having a hard time opening his pants, so you pushed them away and started undoing them yourself, earning a low chuckle from him. “Open.” He whispered when you managed to pull his cock out and fuck, it was hard with precum already spilling out, the sight making you even wetter than you thought possible.

He wasted no time before shoving it between your lips and with one deep thrust forcing his cock to the back of your throat, earning a low growl from him. You gag and tried to pull away, still not used to his girth and size, only to have both his hands on the back of your head, tugging on your hair as he began to thrust, not caring about your gagging. You braced your hands on his thighs, helping yourself stay still while his hips met face. “That’s it, take it like a good fucking whore.” He mumbled, continuing to meet the back of your throat. You could feel your throat getting sore, a moan making its way out of your mouth, his deep moan following yours right after. His thrust started to become wobbly, so he started to push your head towards him, causing you to gag even more and have to tap his tight for a break.

“Can’t take my cock?” He chuckled sarcastically before dragging you to your feet, his hand on the back of your head as he led you up the stairs and towards the bedroom. He aggressively pushed you onto the bed, your face falling on the pillows as he climbed on top of you, sitting on your thighs. You yelped when he strongly smacked your ass.

“Rick-” You tried to speak again only to be cut off again by another hard smack on the same place.

“I told you to shut up, didn’t I?” His hand kept spanking you, your ass cheeks growing red with his hand prints on it, only making his cock even harder. Even though you two were nothing more than fuck buddys, he had a thing for marking you in many ways, with his mouth leaving hickeys all over you, his hands leaving angry red marks on your ass, thighs and breasts or shooting his cum all over you, your belly, your face, your back and his favorite, inside you. Soon enough you heard the fabric of your shorts being torn up and your wetness being presented fully to him, a shiver running through you. “So fucking wet for me.” He grunted seeing the wetness covering your thighs. His fingers traced the outside of your lips before finally touching you, making small circles, but not entering. You let out a moan and pushed your hips towards him, needing more, only to gain another harsh slap. His fingers left you and you heard him moan, curious you look behind you to see him licking his fingers, the sight making you go crazy.

“Rick please…” You beg, tired of the anticipation.

“Please what? Use your words.” He says before he starts to adjust himself, unbuttoning his shirt and throwing it somewhere in the room. His hand moves towards his cock and he starts pumping himself a few times at the sight of you.

You groan, needing to feel him inside you. You didn’t want to admit it to yourself, but god you missed his cock so fucking much. “Use me, please.” And just when you said it he was inside of you, with one hard thrust he was balls deep. He pushes your head into the pillows as you let out a scream, not being prepared for the forceful entry.

“Fuck, you’re so tight.” He grunts, burrowing his face in your hair as he stays still, giving you a few seconds to get used to him. Soon enough he starts to fuck into you, his hip meeting your ass, making lewd skin sounds echo through the walls of the room. You bury your face into the pillows, clutching the sheets tightly as tears make their way out of your eyes. You gasp when Rick pulls your head back by your hair, forcing you into all fours, making his thrust even harder. “Let them hear you, let them hear how good I fuck you.” His hands clingled to your hips, forcing you to meet his thrusts.

“R-Rick, slow down.” You whimpered, feeling your orgasm already arriving. You felt somewhat embarrassed, you had tried touching yourself to the thought of him, only to be completely dissatisfied, your fingers felt nothing like his and couldn’t make you feel good like he had.

“No.” He said pulling his cock out and a displeased groan left you, a scream following right after as he started to slap your clit. “You don’t cum unless I tell you to, understand?”

“Yes, yes, I’m sorry.” You sobbed at the loss of pleasure.

His hand started caressing the red marks he had left on your ass earlier, enjoying the sight of them “Look at you, letting me use you like my fuck toy. You love this, don’t you slut?”

“Yes, I love it. Please Rick…” You pushed your hips back, hoping he’d just stick his cock inside you again. You shouldn’t have been surprised when he turned you around easily and within seconds he was between your legs. He started rubbing the head of his cock against your entrance, loving to see your eyes begging for him to shove it in and claim you, but soon his own patience ran out and he pushed it in as he grabbed your throat, squeezing it slightly while forcing you to keep your eyes on his.

“Tell me, did you let someone else use this pussy while I was out?” He asks, pouding into you, the thought of someone else fucking you doing strange things to him. You couldn’t seem to be able to form words, so instead you shook your head. “Why? Only I can make you cum like a bitch in heat?” He whispers in your ear and your eyes roll to the back of your head.

“Yes, yes, yes…” You answer, your voice weak from the squeezing of your throat. Immediately after you answer he chuckles, seeing how cock drunk you are for him and he loved it.

He slaps your cheek, enough to hurt, but not enough to leave a mark. “Look at me when I fuck you.” And with that his thrust became ruthless, his cock feeling like it was hitting your organs. You tried to beg as you felt your climax arriving again, but no voice came out as he kept pounding into you. “Are you close again baby?” He growls, his hand squeezing your throat a little harder while his other hand holds one of your tits through the shirt he hadn’t bothered to take off of you. Once again, you couldn't speak, so you held onto his bicep, squeezing it. The nickname hadn’t escaped you, he would sometimes let somethings slip, especially when he was getting closer. “Hold it.” He grunted, feeling his own climax arriving. He let his weight drop on top of you, his arms now circling around you as he kept thrusting. You followed him, your own arms wrapping around him as your nails dug into the skin of his back, your legs circling around his waist, making his cock hit an even deeper part of you.

“Please.” You manage to whimper, feeling your orgasm so close and you stopping yourself, awaiting for his order.

“Cum for me, cum around my cock.” And you did. Stars seemed to have taken over your eyes, bright lights shining as your whole body trembled, you hand pulling his curls while you bit on his neck, trying not to scream. “That’s it, good fucking whore.” He grunted against your ear, feeling your pussy tightening around him as he fucked you through your orgasm. Soon enough you felt his thrust start to become wobbly, his grunts more persistent against your ear and his hands holding you tighter. With one final thrust and a loud growl from him, you feel the warm liquid filling you up, only this time it was a lot more than normal.

After long minutes of staying in the same position, both of you trying to catch your breaths, Rick moves and supports himself on his arm, looking down at your still joined parts and you do the same. You gasp, seeing that you were right and there’s a lot more than there usually is. Has he not touched himself all these days? You thought to yourself, but didn’t say it out loud.

“Shit, that’s a lot.” He remarks, picking some up with his fingers. “Open.” He ordered before pushing them in your mouth, the taste of both of you invading your tongue. You close your eyes, moaning while sucking, unaware of Rick’s eyes watching you closely. He pulls his fingers away and when you open your eyes you see this strange look on his, he starts getting closer and for a second your lips brush against each other, only for him to turn away and move to your neck instead, sucking the skin right below your earlobe.

“No, Rick.” You say, tugging on his hair, trying to pull him away only for him to pull your hand away and pin it above your head. “Rick…” You moan his name, enjoying how his mouth felt. With a loud pop he pulled away, looking down at your neck with a smirk on his lips. “Fuck, people will see that.” You say, knowing that that part of your neck was impossible to cover with clothes.

“Good, they’ll know that I own you, that this body is mine, this neck is mine to mark and this-” He pushes his cock deeper into you. “-this pussy belongs to me.” He growls in your neck.

#rick grimes #rick grimes x reader #rick x reader #rick grimes smut #rick grimes imagine #rick grimes x you #18+ content #mdni #smut

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selarina · 6 months

Text

Lost Cat Named Toto

-> Megumi Fushiguro x reader

You usually hate doing the dishes, which leaves you here: standing in the kitchen at 2 a.m. as you rinse and wipe down your dirty dishes. You find that you like this routine of yours — the warm liquid against your hand in the cold of the night, the slow jazz in your ears, the toasty bed waiting and ready for you to fall onto. It’s nice.

You didn’t like it at all at first — the anxiety of the unwashed dishes always weighing in over your head but after the first few months, you’ve managed to resign to it.

Thud! You turn — probably just another flatmate of yours you think as you go back to your routine.

Thud! This time you stop in your tracks — turning off the tap as you wipe your hands down on the table before you pull your headphones down.

You turn only to suddenly yelp — there’s a boy standing at the entrance of your kitchen. You squint, and he definitely doesn’t live on this floor.

“Sorry — Are you alright?” the boy asks, he looks frazzled — his black hair unkempt and his green eyes bleary and hanging low.

“You just startled me,” you say, a bit scared about a random guy standing in your kitchen but he looks fairly harmless. He likely lives in the same building. “Can I help you?”

“Right — I'm sorry about that. Have you seen a cat?”

"A cat?" you echo, bewildered.

“Yeah, a black and white small thing.”

“We’re not allowed to pets…” you say.

“I know, just—” He runs his hands through his hair, “If you see this cat, can you tell me?”

"Sure, I guess," you reply, your apprehension giving way to a faint smile. "I haven't seen any cats around, though."

And just like that he’s off. He didn’t give his number, name, or anything. What the hell are you going to do if you find his cat? You don’t dwell on it. You turn the tap on, picking up another plate to wash. You likely won’t see it.

—

You were wrong. It’s been half a day since you spoke to the boy and you’re on your walk to your lecture hall and that’s when you see it — a small black and white little thing moving with the poise and elegance of a tiger. You realize it's the same cat, the one the boy in your kitchen was searching for. It's two blocks away from your building, and you know this isn't a mere coincidence. This cat belongs to him.

Your heart fastens as you think of the frazzled boy and his request. But you do have your lecture and this cat doesn’t exactly seem or act like it is lost. Additionally, you would have no idea how to contact this guy since you don’t know anything about him. So, you should definitely make your way to your lecture hall. You should.

But alas, the cat moves, and you decide to follow it discreetly so as to not set it off running. You keep a safe distance and maintain a sort of litheness to not be heavy on your feet. You’re mirroring the cat, you can’t help but think. The cat seems to have an agenda, but you need to get to it soon so you move quickly in front of it, and it doesn’t budge a muscle, simply stopping in its track as it looks up to you. You kneel down, the touch of the gravelly road touching your bare knees as you hold out a hand. It’s lax, and still about a foot away from the cat.

It stares and it stares, as if discerning the depths of your soul before it patters across to it, slowly sniffing your hand before it softens, melting into your hand as you pet it. You smile, you just hope you can find the guy because you are, after all, going through the trouble of sneaking this little guy into your dorm room.

—

A mere two hours had passed, yet the cat had already carved out a niche for itself within the corners of your room. Having sipped a small offering of milk, it’s now nestled upon a discarded pillow you had left for its comfort. It’s slumbering deeply as you slowly step out, and pad your way out of your room.

You’re trying to find the frazzled-haired boy, and you figured the best way to do that would be to simply ask. You go downstairs to the social room where a bunch of people are scattered all around.

You ask the first group if they’ve seen a boy — with a description of his oddly distinct hair. And you turn up with answers of confused looks, and meek judgment. You shrug as you go to the next group, and at least this group pretends to try and think of people they may know but once again — nothing.

Then, amidst the sea of people, you halted before a young man near a vending machine. His hair, pink like rose petals, framed a face engrossed in contemplation over the choice between generic soft drink number 1 and generic soft number 2.

"Hey," you interjected, interrupting his contemplation.

He turns, “Heya, do you want to cut in? I might take a while," he offers, smiling so wide it makes you smile as well.

"Have you seen a guy?" you cut to the chase.

"I've seen many guys," he replies with a chuckle.

"Let me finish," you retort, deadpan. “He looks uhh— kinda like a porcupine. His hair, I mean.”

"I know exactly who you're talking about!" the pink-haired boy exclaims excitedly. "That's my boy — Fushiguro."

“Fushiguro,” you recant with a near whisper. “Can you tell me where he lives?”

“Yeah, he lives right next door to me,” he says. “And I’m heading up so—” But then he hesitates, suddenly cautious. "Wait. Wait. Wait— How do I know you're not some creep?" he asks, his expression filled with suspicion. "You could be a stalker, his crazy ex, or something."

"Do I look like a stalker? Or a crazy ex?" you ask, brows raised in mild annoyance.

“Well, the thing about crazy people is they look normal so—”

"I'm not," you reassure him. "And I promise it'll take less than 2 minutes for me to speak to him."

With that, he led you up the stairs to an adjacent building. It’s a bit more modern looking than your building, you notice. Checks out that this is a new addition.

As you hit the fourth floor, your breath is a bit haggled but you hide it with a discreet cough, as you catch your breath.

"I’m just saying— I could've been a stalker," you remark, your voice somewhat breathless. "That shouldn't have been enough to convince you."

The pink-haired boy chuckles nervously. "Stop saying that now that we're here. You even know which floor I live on. I won't be able to sleep at night, and it'll be all your fault."

As you approach Fushiguro's room, your heart races with a soft sense of anticipation. The pink-haired boy, your impromptu guide, stops in front of a door and knocks.

A few moments later, the door swings open, revealing Fushiguro standing there clad in loose-fitting attire. His unkempt hair is now slightly more tamed, perhaps having had to be at university today. Compared to the dead-like figure you had encountered earlier, he appeared considerably more alert.

"Hey, Fushiguro," the pink-haired boy says with a grin, "This person has found your cat."

Fushiguro's eyes widen just a bit as he gazes at you. "You found Toto?" he asks, disbelief and relief intertwining in his voice.

"Toto," you echoed in a hushed tone, nodding with a warm smile. "Yeah, I followed him and managed to coax him into my room. He's napping right now."

Fushiguro's tense expression softens, and he lets out a sigh of relief. "Can I come see him?" he asks.

“You can do more than that. You can take him,” you quipped lightly. “Sneaking him into my room was the most anxious I’ve been all month.”

"Thank you for finding him," he says sincerely. "I've been searching for him all day. I don't know how he got out."

The pink-haired boy chuckles. "Looks like we've got a hero here," he teases you.

You shrug, feeling a bit embarrassed but glad to have helped. "It was just a stroke of luck, really."

As you step aside to let Fushiguro into your room, he enters, and you follow him inside, closing the door behind you. Toto is still curled up on the pillow, sleeping peacefully. Fushiguro approaches the cat, and as soon as Toto hears his owner's voice, he stirs, stretching and then opening his eyes. He lets out a soft meow of recognition.

Kneeling beside his feline friend, Fushiguro gently stroked Toto's fur while conversing in hushed tones. His voice, you noticed, possessed a soothing quality that stirred something within you. He could be good at ASMR, you muse.

“Little brat,” he murmurs, his fingers running through Toto's fur.

The sight of the two of them together warms your heart just a bit. It's clear that Fushiguro cares deeply for his cat. You feel a sense of satisfaction knowing that you played a part in bringing them back together.

Fushiguro's eyes remain fixed on his beloved Toto as he gently scoops the cat into his arms. Toto purrs contentedly, nuzzling against Fushiguro's chest. His hands run over the top of Toto’s head, and you wonder if his hands are soft or rough to touch. They look calloused. You wonder why.

As you watch them, a thought crosses your mind. "You know," you say, breaking the silence, "I didn't catch your name back in the kitchen."

Fushiguro glances up from Toto, his emerald-green eyes meeting yours. There's a hint of curiosity in his gaze. "It's Megumi Fushiguro," he replies. "And you?"

You introduce yourself with a smile, as you stand there in your own room — awkward and shy all too suddenly. You wonder what the next step is. The next step is for him to leave, right?

“Thanks again for finding Toto,” he says.

“Like I said, it’s no worries,” you say. “But ah— why do you have a cat?”

“I just found him outside, and he was malnourished, I think. So, I’ve been feeding him for a month now. I’ll set him up at a shelter or have my sister take him soon. Whatever works out.”

“That’s sweet of you,” you say.

“It’s…whatever,” he says, a bit of red on his cheeks as he clears his throat. “I’ll get going now.”

You nod, reluctantly but you’re still in a daze and unsure of what you can say to make him stay.

Just as he’s about to leave, he stops, halfway through the door, but still inside your room. “Um— Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” you respond. You wonder if he was about to say something else.

You wonder as you wash your dishes that night. Sharp at 2 a.m. as you do, the rhythmic sound of water splashing against the dishes fills the room as you continue your late-night chore, humming the tune of the song playing in your ears as you go through the plates.

“Hey,” you hear, and you’re suddenly startled, your hair rising as you turn to spot Megumi Fushiguro.

“God,” you exclaimed, rinsing your hands and drying them on a towel. “Hope you don’t make it a habit to startle me,” you say as you lower your headphones.

“Sorry,” he says. “I— I came to ask you something. I know it’s creepy at this hour but I had a feeling I may catch you at this time since I did yesterday.”

“Right,” you say, gulping. “Right, what do you want to ask?”

"Coffee," he stated simply.

Your brows raise. “You want… coffee?” you inquired, turning to your shelf. "Well, I do have coffee."

"No," he clarified, "I meant, would you like some coffee?"

"I have coffee," you reiterated. "As I just mentioned..."

He tuts, “Do you want to have coffee with me?” he asks. “As a date, to be clear.”

“A date?”

“Yes,” he says.

“I— Sure,” you say with a soft smile. “Of course.”

Megumi stares back at you, soft patches of sheen wetness coating your hand, the hoodie hanging loose on your figure, and the warm yellow glow hitting your face. He wonders if this is one of those moments that are special. He wonders if that’s the reason why time seems to have slowed down just for a few quick seconds. He wonders if this image will be etched into his memory forever if he’ll recall this as he says beside you in bed, but he’s thinking too ahead — all he asked you for was coffee. He’ll just have to see how that goes first.

“I’ll see you tomorrow. At 5?” he asks.

“Yeah. At 5 — that works.” You smile.

“You listen to Amy Winehouse,” he says, and you think maybe you should offer a seat at the dining table. He looks a bit awkward standing there.

“Um—” you think, wondering why he’s asking. “Yes, why?”

“You were humming the tune earlier?” he says.

“Oh,” you raise your brows in realisation. “Yeah, I do listen to her. She was my mum’s favorite artist,” you share.

“Ah. My dad liked her,” he adds, as he wonders what he’s doing — telling a stranger about his father while Yujji, a boy he’s likely the closest to besides his sister, settles for specks of information about his life. It’s odd, and suddenly Megumi feels the urge to run out of here.

“A man with great taste,” you say with a chuckle.

“Sure,” he says, a bit dejected. “Uh— I’ll get going now.”

“Right,” you say. “See you at 5 then, Megumi.”

“At 5,” he recants.

He hears the sound of tap running water as he smiles, making his way out of your kitchen.

#toji liking amy whinehouse is just so canon to me #megumi x reader #jjk megumi #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #megumi fushiguro x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jjk imagines #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #jjk headcanons #jujutsu kaisen fluff #x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #fushiguro megumi x reader #megumi x you #megumi fushiguro x reader fluff

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rakurairagnarok · 4 months

Note

Hey man! Heard this was the place to come for some new gear! I’m just getting started working out so I don’t know what all I need, I just know I need to break a sweat and keep my mind on the weights!

Want to become the true gym rat?

You arrived at the gym , excited to try on your new gear. You had revived a new cap in the mail, with #gainz on it. You couldn't help but chuckle. Anyone who would see you wear it would think you had not a single active braincell in your head.

After putting it on, together with your headphones and the rest of your loose workout gear you begin your workout.

After your first few sets, you notice you haven't really broken a sweat or gotten any feeling of fatigue, so you decide to up the weight.

You continue adding weight. You feel a slight tightness across your chest, but you keep going. More weight, push, pull, more weight, push, pull. Nothing else is on your mind. Even when people come up to you asking for how many sets you still need, you just keep working out, adding more weight.

After about 4 hours you finally wake up from your workout daze and look at the muscle freak in front of you. You chuckle.

"Lookin good brah"

You flex and notice your reflection doing the same, which makes you let out a bellowing laugh. It was you all along. Then again your brain was so shit you could barely remember your own adress sometimes.

#transformation #rakurai #asks #male muscle growth #male transformation #clothing tf #dumbing down

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alonetimelover · 11 months

Text

harry styles x tennis player!reader

summary: yn and harry go for a run in london.

a/n: wrote it after seeing those pictures. not proofread. enjoy.

masterlist

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"sometimes i forget you're a pro at this," harry said, with elbows pressed right before gis knees.

"you understimate me. unfortunately not for the first time, hmm?" yn pat his bare back, moving few metres in front of her boyfriend. "come on! let's do some stretching and then a run back home."

harry's eyes windened, "you trying to kill me, darling?"

"no, absolutely not. still haven't used you to meet thee queen swift." they laughed, sitting down on the grass.

it was a beautiful day in London when yn and harry decided to use it for good - or for running, depends on your definition of a well-spent morning. the hyde park was unusually calm and quiet, serving it's utter beauty often overlooked by dozens of people trying to get the best view of the city beyond them.

harry had a day off after one of four concerts at wembley stadium this year, and yn just arrived in london two days ago in preparation for wimbledon. after all those months trying to find a moment when it was possible to call or even text each other, they finally were able to wake up together and enjoy this quality time to the brim. it was quite surreal.

"harry, stretch."

"i don't want to," he longed the syllables in the act of annoyance and tiredness.

"i'm not going to make you, but -" she stopped stretching her calf muscles and looked him dead in the eyes. "you're going to regret it in the morning tomorrow, believe me."

harry groaned, and like an upset toddler sat up straighter and started stretching. yn smirked slightly to herself in victory. it was all for his health, and the feelings of pride and win were just a bonus.

"did you bring any bag with you, baby?" harry asked, humour much less grumpy.

"i have this foldable one in your funny pack. what do you need it for?"

harry didn't answer. well, verbally, he didn't answer. instead, he took off his t-shirt, folded it carefully, and put on the grass. yn swallowed, blushing a little bit.

harry smirked, "you're ogling me."

like being woken up from the trance, yn darted her eyes behind harry to the view beside him. her mind, although, still replaying the former one.

"tsk, tsk. gotcha, preying eyes." He laughed, patting yn's knee and then immediately smoothing his hand across it, squeezing three times. "you know I don't mind it."

"oh, I know. you love attention."

"yours."

"sorry?"

"i love your attention," he emphasised, looking yn directly in the eye. little smile adoring his features.

yn blushed, hiding her face in her hands.

"you're too good at this, too good."

"thank you."

harry placed his hand firstly on yn's and then delicately moved it away from her face so he could look at her. "much better."

"wanna run home now?"

"in a moment."

and before she could ask what he'd wanted to wait for, his lips were on hers, connecting them in a loving kiss. no matter how many times they shared those loving moments together, she couldn't stop feeling full of butterflies in her stomach.

"you're right. i love all the attention." harry smirked, quickly standing up and being ready to run.

"you little-"

"okay, now we can go!" harry screamed, running down the hill.

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harryupdates

liked by hArrysbtch, harrysmoustache and 34 291 others

harryupdates HARRY TODAY WHILE ON THE RUN WITH YN IN LONDON !!!!

wtfuisis guys, wtf

view all 2 201 comments

hArrysbtch i-

hArrysbtch man, I'm not okay

harrysmoustache someone calkl the ambulance, I can't breathe... damn this man

harrysaus22 i feel this picture in my core

ynupdates i understand now, yn. i understand.

hArrysbtch guys... the video of them giggling and making out in the park??????? wtf

#harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #harry styles one shot #tennis player!reader

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six-strings-of-fate · 5 months

Text

Hands-On Viewing Experience *✧:*₊ °

An N$FW Ross Lynch x gn!Reader Fic

Sum: You've known Ross for a while, albeit as a friend-of-a-friend. Though he's always been friendly and respectful (and pretty damn attractive,) you two haven't spent much alone time. However, when all of you and his friends cancel on the night's plans and he invites you in for a movie night, the two of you become much closer than you ever expected. Word Count: 4,362 Rating: Mature (Oral Sex, Language) A/N: This is my first real shot at any xReader stuff, so I hope you like it!

Ross stood in the doorway in front of you, in nothing but the pair of gray briefs he swore he was gonna throw out for being too small. A T-shirt and jeans wasn't underdressed after all, it seemed.

“Oh, what’s up?” A small grin broke on Ross’s otherwise tired face as he rested his hand on the door frame. “I didn’t think you were coming over. Everyone else cancelled.”

“Yeah, but I was really looking forward to all of us hanging out again,” Though you spoke fairly evenly, your thoughts were all jumbled up with a scantily clad Ross in front of you. His skin was a light pink all over with a slight glow to it. Maybe it was your imagination, but his muscles all seemed to pop more than usual. “Sorry, I should’ve texted first.”

“It’s chill. Actually, I just finished working out and was gonna have a little movie night with myself.”

“Oh, right,” You responded with a quick smile, expecting him to ask you to leave, “Well, I-“

“But, since you’re already here,” Ross nodded his head upwards, gesturing towards his home, “I wouldn't say no to a little company. Especially not yours.”

You take a moment to respond, just a little caught up on the fact Ross was inviting you in like he wasn’t half-naked. You and him were close enough, sure, and it was impossible to have an objectively sexy pop-rock star friend and not see him in his underwear from time to time, but Ross had never been one to just be half-naked in front of you.

When you glanced up at Ross, though, you got the impression he knew this just as well. His amber eyes, trained solely on you, glistened in a way familiar to you from all your nights out on the town. The look a half-drunk, half-dressed, wholly-horny Ross gave to whoever he decided would be that night's mistake.

"Sure, why not?" Considering your friendship, you might be shaping up to be Ross's and your biggest mistake of all. Still, as you watched his muscled frame step aside to let you in, you couldn't be more grateful neither of you were perfect.

As you walked through the doorway, you felt warm skin against your neck as Ross draped his arm over your shoulder. With his side hugged firmly against yours, you could feel him humming My Heart Will Go On as well as you can hear it.

"Celine Dion? What, are we gonna watch Titanic or something?" You asked as Ross guided you into his living room. Even though you'd been to his place enough to know your way around, you didn't mind him guiding you around if he was this close.

"Don't judge me, okay?" Ross pleaded as you both came to a stop. He turned his head to look down at you, an exaggerated pout on his face.

"Of course not, it's a total classic or something," You responded, trying your best not to giggle. It was no secret Ross was more sentimental than the average guy, which was certainly something you loved about him, but it always struck you as a little humorous when he would recommend shows or songs that your grandma would criticize for being too sappy.

"Whatever, dude," Ross scoffed, removing his arm from your shoulder and patting you twice on the back, "I'll go grab the movie. In the meantime, you can sit here and rethink your taste in movies."

Despite his instructions, you found yourself standing still as Ross walked down the hallway to his room. Just like the rest of them, his back muscles seemed to bulge out from his body with a post-workout glow. Your eyes followed every muscle from his shoulder and down his spine, imagining how it'd feel to run your hands over them. Hard to the touch as your body would be pressed against his, something to grip while he shakes the bed f-

You shook your head, coming to your senses as he turned the corner. He was just your friend and nothing more, a fact you reminded yourself of as you went to sit down.

Ross's living room was comfortably familiar to you. Supported by hardwood flooring and surrounded by white walls, the living room housed brown leather couches and a small wooden coffee table. Against the wall behind them was a desk, flanked with two large black bookshelves, filled with photo albums, DVDs, and of course, books.

The leather of the couch stretched as you sat down, and you stretched in kind, grateful to be sat anywhere after the walk to Ross’s place. Straight across from you was his TV, on top of a glass tabletop with two rows of shelf supporting it. Several gaming consoles, devices, and board game boxes sat atop them.

After a minute or so of shuffling coming from Ross's room, he returned, a DVD box in hand and blanket over his shoulder.

"Got it," Ross held the DVD up to show you, then tossing it up in the air and catching it with his left hand. With his right, he pulled the blanket off himself and tossed it to you.

As you spread the blanket over yourself, your eyes again drifted to Ross as he took the disc out of the box went to put it in. He bent down to the DVD player, sliding the disc in.

Though Ross claimed his underwear were two sizes too small, you didn't mind the snug fit. Not when they were practically tearing at the seams trying to hold his ass in them. You could see both cheeks clearly, big, round, and bouncing as Ross jostled his DVD player.

"Piece of shit!" He grunted as he smacked around the poor device. Turning his head slightly, he added, "Sorry, it's a little slow. We've had this thing since my R5 days."

You probably mumbled out something like a response to Ross’s comment. Not like you would remember if you did, considering what started jiggling as Ross started roughing up his DVD player.

His dick was heavy. It had to be, considering how it had been saugging in his underwear since you'd gotten there. Now, with the aggressive motion of Ross smacking his DVD player, it swung up and down with such weight it pulled his underwear down a bit. Had the machine not been such a little bitch and began functioning, you might have gotten to see everything.

"Alright, it's working for now," Ross huffed, pulling up his underwear and resting his hands on his hips. So much for finding out why he was cast as Austin Moon. "Hopefully it'll hold out long enough for us to watch the whole thing. You thirsty?"

"What-?" You blinked several times, assuming you'd been called out for your not-so-subtle staring. You didn't think you were looking anywhere indecent, but his whole body was a minefield of places you could get lost daydreaming about.

"Are you thirsty? For a drink?" Ross tilted his head, a little confusion in his voice. "I just got sponsored by this sports drink company and they gave me more juice than I could ever want."

"Oh! Sure, yeah, totally," Affirmatives stumbled out of your mouth as you felt your face grew hot. The only thing keeping you from bursting into actual flames on the spot was the knowledge that you avoided the thousand-times worse situation of Ross knowing you were checking him out.

You somehow salvage the name of your favorite flavor from of the housefire of embarrassment that was your brain, telling it to Ross. With a smile as relaxed and charming as always, Ross gave you a nod and went into the kitchen.

Not more than a minute later, Ross returned, two cartons in hand.

“Heads up,” He called, tossing a carton to you and opening his red mixed-berry drink. Although you fumble it into your lap, Ross gives you a supportive thumbs up anyway.

The cap to the drink was unnecessarily complicated, taking all your focus to figure out and open (un-latch, un-hook, push down and twist? It's a surprise you didn't have to answer an algebra problem, too.) You were so focused, in fact, that you didn't notice Ross coming to sit next to you until he was practically on you.

Ross's couch was a three-seater, with room for two more people than that. With all that space on the sofa available to him, Ross chose to sit directly next to you. Not elbow-to-elbow close, not even arm-to-arm close, but him-slinging-his-arm-over-you-and-pulling-your-body-into-his close.

Even holding you against his barely clothed body, Ross was as nonchalant as ever.

"Okay," Ross sighed, seeming to lean against you as he settledhimself into the couch. After navigating the Blu-Ray menu to the "Play Movie" button, he turned his head to look at you, "Comfy?"

His face was inches from yours now. Minuscule details about him became clear to you- his stubble, the dimple on his right cheek, and several tiny blemishes on his face normally concealed by makeup. Things you hadn’t been able to see before, things most people never would, glowed in the dim light of his TV as his warm, minty(?) breath grazed your face.

"Yeah," You whispered, "I am."

For the most part, you and Ross were quiet after that. Though your focus was mostly on the fact that Ross and you were so close while he was so naked, the parts of Titanic you did focus on were pretty alright (even if all your investment in the story came from imagining Ross as Jack and yourself as Rose.)

After about the halfway point of the movie, (that is, an hour and a half of him cradling you against his body,) Ross began to slide his arm down your back. Casually, while he made some comment about the film. He rested it low on your body, his forearm wrapping around your waist and hand exerting a slight grip on your hip. His index finger played around with your waistband, like it was waiting for your permission to rip your pants clean off.

With the suggestive placement of Ross's hand, your mind started swarming with the same thoughts it had been earlier. Feeling you up, watching Titanic, being half-fucking-naked alone with you- if he wasn't trying to communicate he was into you, then he was communicating how in-sane he was.

So, you rested his head on his shoulder. Considering how close you were, it was barely more than a slight tilt, but Ross noticed. He rested his head on top of yours, giving your hip a light squeeze.

“Y’know, I’m actually kinda glad everyone else cancelled on us,” Ross spoke, his voice low and quiet, yet still reverberating through your head, "I'm glad we're spending some one-on-one time together."

"Me too," You responded, your hand finding a comfortable spot on Ross's thigh, "I can't remember the last time it's been just me and you."

"It hasn't," Ross responded quickly, then following up with an awkward, "I mean, you were my brother's friend first, so we usually only hang out with him around."

Before you could appreciate the fact Ross was as fixated on the fact you two were alone as you were, you felt his head turn until you could hear his slow, deep breathing in your ear.

"That's why I never made my move before," With every word, the soft skin of his lips brushed against your ear. Though his voice was even lower than before, it seemed a thousand times louder than the movie playing in front of you.

It took every ounce of boldness within you to turn your head too. Nose-to-nose with Ross, you could tell he’d let you kiss him right then. Still, you couldn’t resist letting this moment go on a little longer.

“Well, he’s not here now,” With every word, your lips brushed against Ross’s the slightest bit, “But you haven’t done anything yet.”

Ross broke into a smile, “You think I haven’t made a move tonight?”

“I think you haven’t made the move tonight.”

Ross opened his mouth, which you presumed was to speak. Anticipating his next words, you were surprised as the banter between you both was cut short by Ross kissing you on the lips.

For a second, didn’t register it was happening. He barely had to move to reach your lips, and you didn’t move at all. It was two or three seconds before you even thought to kiss back. It was nice, but Ross pulled away too soon for you to appreciate it fully.

“There,” Ross ran his hand through his hair, “That better?”

"A little," You said. Amazingly, even as heat rose through your chest and face, you played it cool.

"A little? What, you want more?" Ross responded, not really a question or offer. Just a statement of fact, plain and simple.

Paying Ross back in kind for catching you off guard before, you leaned in and kissed him in place of a response. You shimmied your hand up his back and placed your hand behind his head, making sure he wouldn't pull away so quickly.

The best part of kissing Ross wasn't that he was objectively amazing at it. It wasn't his silky hair in your hand or soft lips on yours. It wasn't even him caressing your lower back under your shirt. It was how he smelled.

God, he smelled good. More than good, intoxicating. His woodsy deodorant mixed with his post-workout musk filled your nostrils he pulled you in closer, driving you crazier with every whiff you got.

Eventually, his lips weren’t enough for you anymore, and you began to kiss him across his cheek and jaw, settling on his neck. It was thick and smelled strongly of Ross's cologne- of Ross, that every ounce of restraint escaped your body along with desperate breaths and yearning moans.

You felt Ross’s deep moans vibrate in his throat as you took bits of loose skin between your teeth and ran your tongue over his larynx destabilized by heavy breaths. Your free hand roamed his chest, rock-hard just as you predicted, eventually finding it's way down to his navel. Without hesitation, your fingers began to tug at the waistband of his underwear, and questions of whether your prediction about what was underneath were as true as those about his abs.

"Take 'em off," Ross spoke in an authoritative tone you'd never heard before, "I know you want to."

You wanted to, more than Ross could ever you did. The second Ross raised his hips up to allow easy removal, you yanked his underwear down to his knees.

You stared at his cock. Gawked, even. How could you not? You'd been daydreaming about it for the past 90 minutes daydreaming about it.

It was more than everything you thought it'd be. So thick it couldn't stand up on its own, Ross's dick rested against his stomach. You couldn't tell it's exact length, but experience and intuition told you it was comfortably within the ballpark of 8 inches of length. It was a couple shades lighter than the rest of his body, with the head and balls a light shade of red. A couple of veins ran across it, the most notable being a thick, jagged line from the head of his dick to the bottom of his shaft. If you weren't so dead set on getting it into one or more of your holes, you'd find yourself intimidated.

Ross tilted your head upwards, shifting your gaze from his cock to his smirk. He didn't have to use his words to ask if you liked what you saw, and you didn't have to use yours to tell him you did. Instead, you both found yourself leaning into another kiss.

It felt natural, the way your bodies turned to face one another's, even though your first kiss with him wasn't five minutes ago. Arching your back and leaning into him, Ross wrapped his arms around you and laid on his back, pulling you down with him.

With the help of gravity, Ross's cock was pressed up against your chest. Though you weren't getting any skin-to-skin contact, you still felt the massive mass of meat below you. Arms gripped tight around you, Ross jerked your body upwards and downwards, creating friction on his dick that caused the vibrating moans you felt leave his mouth and enter yours.

Soon, you realized once more that Ross's lips weren't enough for you, and you knew his neck wouldn't be either. Once Ross's grip on you loosened, you moved from his mouth to give a quick kiss on his neck, then finally biting his left nipple.

"Shit!" Ross bucked his hips into your chest, but your mouth remained sucking on his nipple. You kept kissing and biting it, moans vibrating in your chest as Ross grinded his cock against it.

By the time you moved on, licking every single one of Ross's abs and the space between them. The lower you got, the fewer places you could lick that didn't have some hair bristling pleasantly against your tongue. Your shirt was wet with precum from Ross's rock-hard dick, stil rubbing up and down against your neck. With the sounds and movements he was making being so desperate, you knew exactly what he needed from you.

So, your tongue continued its journey down Ross's body, until it was finally at the base of his cock. Your tongue ran in half circles around Ross's shaft, a little less hairy than his navel. His hips were continuously pumping up down slightly, grunting like he was trying to keep himself calm and failing miserably.

You gave a few teasing licks to the bottom of his shaft, right over his vein, before pulling away and pleasuring his balls instead. His hips shot up as your tongue touched the skin under his balls, and he shouted a couple explosives as you continued licking.

Finally, he yanked your head away, reddening and gasping for breath as he told you, "Just- Fuck- Just focus on my dick, 'cause that's- that's too fucking much for me right now."

You nodded in agreement, promising yourself to return back down there to make him cum. With the power to completely unravel Ross, to leave him blushing and creaming and gasping for air, it would be criminal not to use it.

In the meantime, you did what he asked of you and lifted your head upwards, leaving less than an inch between your lips and the head of Ross's cock. It glistened, already leaking precum like Ross was ready to blow. A firm lick could've finished him off, but you intended on making this last.

You tasted Ross's precum, pressing the tip of your tongue on the head of his dick. He whimpered, placing his hand on the back of your head without exerting any pressure. The liquid was warmer than his skin, citrusy and rich with a flavor you'd never tasted before, that left you wanting more and more.

Running your tongue all over the head of Ross's cock, you lapped up all rest of the precum as Ross released soft sounds of pleasure. His hips rocked up and down ever so slightly, like his body was moving in a pleasure-driven trance that slowly intensified as you explored his cock further. His body jolted each time your tongue explored somewhere new, returning to an increased pace of thrusting right after. From under the head, down his shaft, and around the base, your tongue had thoroughly mapped out Ross's cock before your lips even touched it. He was moaning and pumping his hips, but you were just getting started.

After quickly licking off the precum on Ross’s cock again, you took the head into your mouth. You only intended to put a little into your mouth, but Ross bucked his hips into the air, and before you knew it, you had the head of his dick against the roof of your mouth.

“Mmfph!” You exclaimed, mouth full of cock. It wasn’t uncomfortable, nor was enough of it in that you couldn’t breathe, but it did surprise you. Readjusting quickly, you made space in the back of your mouth so that Ross could continue thrusting up and down without triggering your gag reflex.

From the sounds he made, you were putting him and heaven. He grunted and groaned, barely taking time to breathe between each noise. Cursing and moaning your name, you felt his hand press your head further down on his cock.

You took the extra length in your mouth in stride, gripping your left thumb and hoping for the best. Almost all of his dick was in your mouth, air coming into your throat every spare second Ross was out.

It wasn’t the action of sucking dick that brought you pleasure, though. It was Ross’s reaction, becoming ever more frantic and aggressive the longer you had him in your mouth.

“Holy fuck, you’re fucking-“ Ross gasped, unable to finish his sentence before letting out a shuddering moan. He hadn’t said anything, but you could tell he was close.

After another few seconds, you pulled your mouth off his cock and licked his shaft once again. Predicting his upwards thrust at the change in sensation, you only licked halfway down his dick, letting his sudden motion bring the base up to your tongue. As his hips fell, you lowered your head with them, running your tougue around and under his balls.

Like before, Ross's reaction was explosive, but you were prepared this time. You wrapped one hand around his cock and stroking, pressing down on his abs to keep his hips from jumping too high as he cried out with pleasure.

"Oh my g-" Ross, gasping for air, wriggled ferociously even as you held him down. Your tongue would've quite literally driven him up the wall were he standing.

A waterfall of expletives and precum flooded out of his mouth and cock respectively, and you could tell by the tension of his cock in your hand that his climax was near. The more intensely he grunted and cussed and thrusted his hips, the quicker your tongue ran all over his balls and your hand jerked off his cock.

"I'm g- I'm gonna-" Ross yelled, and you jumped into action. Your head rose up and you put as much of Ross as could possibly fit into your mouth.

Five ropes of thick, citrusy cum fired into the very back of your mouth as Ross fired off every exclamation he knew of. His face, you could see, was redder than the carton of mixed-berry he'd guzzled down earlier. His mouth gaped and his gaze was trained straight onto you, brimming so thoroughly with lust that you wondered how he contained it for as long as he had.

As more ropes shot into your mouth, you felt Ross push your head even further down onto his cock and say your name. A whisper at first, but he repeated louder and louder as his load just kept coming.

You locked eyes with Ross and, even as you began to feel the need for air get to you, you felt like you could be there with him forever, being filled with cum, attraction, and even the slightest hint of love.

Finally, Ross released your head and you pulled away, swallowing all his cum in one gulp, followed by as much air as you could. You coughed a little as Ross sat up across from you on the couch, running his hand through his hair dampened with sweat.

With a still-reddened face, all he could say was your name with a contented smile and look of adoration.

"What?" You teased, keeping your cool in spite of everything. Rather than respond with words, Ross crawled forward and kissed you, pushing you over with his body weight.

You were fully prepared for him to return the favor when you heard a car pulling into the driveway.

"Shit, that's Rocky," He muttered, leaping off of you and searching the floor for his underwear, "I thought he'd be out longer."

Once he found them, Ross scrambled into his underwear and rushed to his room. Obviously, you watched his butt jiggle as he ran away.

"Act normal!" He called as he turned into his room.

Moments later, Rocky walked in through the door, eyes widening as he saw you.

"Hey. Didn't think you'd be over," He said, glancing at Titanic still playing on the TV. "Where's Ross?"

Before you had to make up some lie, Ross reemerged from his room, now in a lavender t-shirt and shorts, smiling casually like nothing happened between you two.

"Sorry, I spilled some juice on myself and had to go change," Ross walked up to his brother and pulled him into a side hug, "How was the dentist?"

"Shitty. I thought I could watch some Golden Girls to relax, but if you guys are busy..."

"No, it's okay," You spoke up, face flushing with heat, "I was just going anyways."

Ross looked surprised, "You were?"

You gulped. You really, really wished you could stay, but everything you wanted to with Ross would be made awkward with the knowledge his brother in the house. Besides, if you stuck around Ross too long, you were certain Rocky would catch on to whatever was happening between you two.

"Yeah, I... gotta get up early tomorrow."

Ross looked disappointed, but walked you out to your car, standing close enough to you that your hands brushed repeatedly.

"I'll see you around," You told Ross, sticking your key in the car.

You turn around to face him, and he pulls you in for a kiss. A quick one, though the way he lingered pulling away told you he wanted more.

"Make it soon, okay?" Ross grinned, checking you out one last time as he turned around, "I owe you some head."

You watched him walk away one last time, the butterflies in your chest running wild as you stepped into you car. Though you couldn't tell what you had just yet, you knew it wasn't ending any time soon.

#ross lynch #ross lynch x reader #fanfiction #smut #fanfic #the driver era #sexy

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