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skzdust · 6 months ago

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Rock Will Never Die

Pure smut. MINORS DNI.

This took me almost three weeks. The season's greetings has been eating me alive. So. Omegaverse rock band ateez. 6.7k words of it, which is by far my longest smut. Please enjoy <3

Big thanks to @kpop---scenarios, who helped me decide which members were alphas/betas/omegas, and for generally helping on this one!!! I appreciate you sm!!

Update 2.26.25: Sequel! Go check out Whatever Will We Do?

Update 3.31.25: Second sequel! Go check out Worth It!

Summary: Y/n, manager of rock band Ateez, is out of heat suppressants after a show. Luckily, all 8 members of her band are there to help.

Pairing: Ateez x reader

Includes: omegaverse, LOTSSSSS of smut, porn without plot, omega reader, spitroasting, double penetration, knotting, unprotected sex (you did not come here for sex ed but please be safe irl!!!)

Word count: 6.7k

Taglist (Comment on a post/send an ask if you'd like to be added): @weirdowithaphone, @caught-in-the-afterglow, @palindrome969, @skzstan12345, @katsukis1wife,

@hyunjinsjeans, @somethingkindazainy, @silverstarburst

Network:@mirohs-aurora-society

Reblogs, likes, comments all appreciated!!!

Masterlist

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You bit your lip as you pawed through your bag, looking for your suppressants. You could taste blood before you found the little orange bottle. You pushed down on it, opening the lid, and—

Empty. Not a single pill left.

“Fuck.” You whispered. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“What’s wrong?”

You turned around. Mingi was standing there, freshly showered in grey sweatpants and a blue T-shirt, a concerned look on his face.

He looked so fucking good, you restrained yourself from jumping at him then and there. You could feel yourself getting more and more desperate, and you swallowed.

“You smell really anxious.” Hongjoong looked over from where he was relaxing in an armchair, still in his stage makeup and outfit. His striped knit hat was askew on his head.

“I— well—” You stammered. “I’m— God, this is embarrassing.”

“What?” Mingi raised his eyebrows. “It can’t be that bad.”

You gave a small, involuntary whimper. “I’m out of heat suppressants… and there’s one coming on.”

“Well, shit.” Mingi said softly. “That’s not great.”

“And it’s not like you can really stop it once it starts.” Hongjoong said.

“Exactly.”

“Hey, calm down.” Mingi’s voice was soothing. “We’ll find a solution for this.”

“What?” You whined. “I don’t have an alpha, and we’re in a hotel, and I don’t have any of my—” You swallowed. “Er, stuff. What’s the solution?”

Mingi and Hongjoong looked at each other for a long moment. “I mean… we could help you.”

You’d been the manager of Ateez for about a year now. They’d always been incredibly talented, but they’d needed someone with your managerial and business sense to catapult them into the stardom they now enjoyed.

And as their manager, to make sure they maintained that stardom, you had to keep close with them. Ride on the tour bus with them, stay in the same hotel rooms, go to all the same bars and after parties.

(Okay, so maybe you had some personal motives to that, too. Maybe the members of Ateez were the eight hottest men you’d ever seen. Maybe you fantasized about the aspects of them you saw both on and off stage. Maybe you thought about them when you were at home on your heat days, fucking yourself with a toy.)

But you’d never thought you’d be alone in a hotel room with two of the group’s four alphas with no heat suppressants.

Especially not with them offering to help you.

They must’ve noticed your hesitation, because Hongjoong smiled softly. “If you don’t want us to, we don’t have to.”

“No! No, help— help— please help me.” You stammered, then more quietly added, “I need you.”

“Shit.” Mingi said. “You’re all desperate.”

“I’m going into heat.” You huffed. “Of course I’m desperate.”

“No, I know. It’s just hot. You want a knot?”

His teasing sent a wave of arousal through you. “Stop it.”

“I don’t think so.” He smirked. “I like watching you squirm, y/n.”

You could feel slick leaking out of your hole, and you bit your lip.

“Enough, Min.” Hongjoong stood up. “I’m the captain, I’m going first.”

“Aw, but I don’t want to wait.” Mingi pouted.

“Contact the others while I fuck her, then you guys can watch while you all wait your turn.”

You gave a long moan from where you were still crouched beside your bag. Hongjoong looked at you. “Slut. You like the idea of all of us fucking you, don’t you?”

“Yeah.” You nodded. Hongjoong had never talked to you like this before, always sweet and gentlemanly as could be.

“When you text Woo, tell him he owes me.” Hongjoong said to Mingi, but he kept his eyes on you. “She seems to like being degraded, so I won that bet. Get on the bed for me, pretty.”

“Bet?” You obeyed, getting onto the bed.

“Me and Woo have had some money on your kinks.” He said, as if this were a perfectly normal thing to do.

Mingi snickered. “Pervert.”

You were, inexplicably, into this, and Hongjoong could tell it made you hornier. He laughed. “You smell even sweeter. You like that? Me and Wooyoung talking about how we’d like to fuck you?”

“Mhm.” You whined. “Can— um, can…” You trailed off, realizing how desperate your request sounded.

“Use your words.” Hongjoong climbed onto the bed, over you, trapping you beneath him. “What is it?”

“Can you fuck me at the same time?” You whispered.

Hongjoong grinned, turning over his shoulder. “Mingi, you can tell Woo there’s a consolation prize for losing.”

You whined as he looked back at you. “Please, Joong. Alpha. Need you.”

He slid his hand into your hair and pulled you into a searing kiss. “Need you too, pretty. Take all those clothes off, you’re not gonna need them.”

You hurried to obey him, getting your shirt and skirt off as fast as you could.

“Look at your body.” He murmured, his eyes raking over you. “Absolutely beautiful.”

You blushed, more slick leaking out of you. “Please, Hongjoong.”

“Ah-ah.” He raised his eyebrows. “You call me alpha, isn’t that right?”

“Yes.” You whispered. “Please, alpha.”

He smirked. “How can I resist when you ask so nicely?”

You whimpered as his hand came down to rub at your pussy. His touch felt so good, and all you wanted was to whine and rut into his hand, but you restrained yourself.

“So well-behaved.” He remarked, pulling his hand back and rubbing his fingers together, watching your slick drip down his hand. “I just know you’re gonna feel so good around me.” With that, he pushed three fingers inside you, and you moaned.

“Fuck, Hong—alpha.” You breathed. “Feels so good, alpha. I… I want your cock, though.”

“Greedy little thing.” He laughed softly. “You’re gonna fucking get it, aren’t you? So be patient.”

You bit your lip again as he began rubbing his thumb around your clit. “Does that feel good, pretty? Is that what you need?”

You swallowed. It was a trick question, and you weren’t going to answer it.

“Answer me.” He added a fourth finger.

“Ah! Yes, it’s good, but I need more, please, Joong—alpha!”

He sighed. “Can’t even remember what to call me. I guess I just gotta fuck that disobedience out of you, don’t I?”

“Yes.” You squeaked. “Yes, you do.”

Hongjoong pulled down his pants, freeing his hard cock. Your mouth began to water at the sight. He threw them across the room. “Mingi, when are the others coming?” You’d forgotten he was even there.

“Soon, I think.”

You looked over Hongjoong’s shoulder to see Mingi watching you, his phone in his hand, practically drooling.

“Good.” Hongjoong said. “I want to make good on Woo’s consolation prize.”

Fuck. He’d been serious? You couldn’t wait for Wooyoung to arrive.

Hongjoong pushed his cock through your folds, coating it in slick. “So messy, pretty.”

You just watched him, breathing hard.

He lined himself up with your entrance. You could just feel him starting to press himself in when there was the loud sound of a door opening. You, Hongjoong, and Mingi all turned around to look at it.

San and Seonghwa walked in, both dressed in dark t-shirts and sweatpants. San’s eyebrows were raised as he took in the sight. “Oh, look at that, Hongjoong’s about to fuck y/n. What did you say, Mingi? She’s in heat?”

You could hear the smirk in Mingi’s voice. “Yeah, she’s definitely in heat.”

You didn’t even realize you’d started breathing so hard until Seonghwa walked over to you and put a hand over your mouth. “There. You can start, Joongie.”

“Don’t need your permission.” Hongjoong sounded a bit irked, but grinned at Seonghwa as he slid inside you. You moaned long and loud into Seonghwa’s hand. You felt so full… but it still wasn’t enough.

“Fuck me.” You asked, and it came out muffled, but Hongjoong could definitely tell what you meant because he laughed meanly.

“Is there something you want, pretty? Use your words, I can’t hear you.”

“Fuck me, alpha, please.” You tried again, and you could hear Seonghwa’s snicker.

Hongjoong looked up at Seonghwa, pursing his lips. Seonghwa leaned down and gave him a long kiss. You were a little surprised. You didn’t know they did that.

Hongjoong looked at you after a moment. “I guess I can start fucking her now.”

“You should.” Seonghwa took his hand away from your mouth. “She was about to bite my finger or something. She’s so fucking horny.”

You wanted to snap out that you were in heat, of course you were fucking horny, but you held back. You wanted to submit, to be a good girl (to be their good girl) more.

“Fuck.” San said from where he sat on the end of the bed. “Damn, she’s so wet, I call next.”

“I was here first.” Mingi said indignantly.

Hongjoong abruptly pulled his hips back before snapping them back into you. You gave a long moan. This was what you needed, someone to fuck you long and deep and hard, into the mattress, someone to fuck a litter into you, someone to knot you and breed you and—

San cut into your thoughts. “No, I said it first. You and I both know the second someone starts to dominate you you’re gonna want to be a good boy, so shut up before I have to punish you.”

San’s voice was smug, or you thought so, most of the thoughts had left your head as Hongjoong had started to fuck you in earnest. His cock was so big, and so good, and filled you up just right. You couldn’t fucking wait for him to knot you.

Mingi and San went suspiciously quiet. Honestly, though, you didn’t even care who won the argument, who got your body next, so long as they kept going the way Hongjoong was going.

The door clicked open again, and you whined as Hongjoong stopped. “Alpha, can you please— why’d you stop?”

“Wooyoung.” Seonghwa’s voice was practically a purr.

You shivered. Wooyoung.

“Hey, Woo, get over here.”

Wooyoung was in a black satin robe, a sash tied around his waist. His hair was wet, like he’d just gotten out of the shower. He smiled as he saw you. “Oh, God, you’re so gorgeous like this.”

“Right?” Hongjoong thrust inside again. “She feels so fucking tight. Want her mouth?”

Your eyes widened as Wooyoung smiled. “D’you want me, baby?”

“Yes.”

Hongjoong pulled out for a brief moment to readjust, and you whined at the sudden emptiness.

“Shh, pretty, it’s gonna be okay, you’ll be so full soon.” He murmured to you, helping you move so your head dangled over the side of the bed. You looked up to see Wooyoung untying his robe, revealing absolutely nothing underneath. He left it on, untied, as he gently pulled you close to him.

You were practically salivating at this point. His cock looked so good. He was gonna fill your mouth up, and Hongjoong—

Before you could finish your thought, Hongjoong pushed back inside you. You moaned, and Wooyoung took the opportunity to slide into your mouth. “So good for me.” He murmured, holding onto your hair.

It felt so good, being full from both ends. “Fuck me.” You moaned, although it came out muffled and distorted around Wooyoung’s cock. “Fuck me, alpha.”

Hongjoong grunted and began to do as you’d asked, aligning his thrusts with Wooyoung’s so you were pushed back and forth between them.

Through your cock-drunk haze you could hear Mingi whining. Your eyes darted over to him as best you could, only to see San pulling his cock out and slapping Mingi across the face with it before grabbing onto his hair. “Open up, slut.”

Mingi obeyed, his tongue lolling out. San groaned as he started to fuck Mingi’s face. Even just from glimpses you could see San’s cock was huge, much bigger than most betas. It was bigger than some alphas you’d seen, even.

You couldn’t wait for it to fuck you.

Hongjoong noticed. “Like watching Sannie fuck Mingi’s face, pretty?”

You moaned in the affirmative, spit leaking out around Wooyoung’s cock.

“Fuck, so messy.” Wooyoung sighed. “Such a good girl.”

That sent another shiver through you, and you looked up at him through your lashes. He sighed again. “Fuck, keep looking at me like that and I just won’t stop.”

You didn’t want him to stop. You looked at him for another moment before looking back over to San and Mingi, who were still… busy.

Hongjoong and Wooyoung kept going as you watched them. San slapped Mingi, and as you watched his hands drifted down to his lap. San slapped him again. “No, bad boy. You don’t touch that alpha cock. That’s my job.”

“Fuck, San, tell him.” Wooyoung’s fingers tightened in your hair. “Make him be a good boy.”

Wooyoung’s commentary on San and Mingi’s oral was only making you wetter. It was really fucking hot to watch him make Mingi submit, and to see how whiny and teary Mingi got when he was being fucked, even in his mouth. You wondered what he’d look like with a cock at both ends. Like you.

Wooyoung and Hongjoong kept going, kept using you. Your body jerked between the two of them. You were mostly along for the ride. You could feel the slick between your legs as Hongjoong kept fucking into your pussy, and Wooyoung’s hands in your hair turned almost gentle, combing through it as he continued with your mouth.

It was a nice contrast, Hongjoong rutting into you like a feral animal while Wooyoung stroked your hair and shallowly fucked your mouth. You closed your eyes.

You opened them a second later as a loud whimper filled the room. You looked over to see Seonghwa yanking Mingi’s hair back, pulling him off San’s cock. “Sannie doesn’t get to cum yet, he’s not wasting it on you.”

Before you could see what they did next, Wooyoung’s hands suddenly fisted in your hair, pulling you down onto his cock. “Fuck, y/n, I’m gonna cum.” He held you in place, his hips moving madly. He was in your throat at this point, and fuck it felt so good to be so full at both ends, to be used so thoroughly by your band members.

Wooyoung came, and you tried your best to be a good girl, to take it all, to let him use you, but you coughed as he pulled back.

“Good slut.” He whispered, leaning down to peck your forehead.

You looked up at him with glazed eyes. “Good for you?”

“So good for me.” He smiled.

You turned over your shoulder. “Please, need a knot.”

“A knot?” Hongjoong’s smirk was evident even in his somewhat breathless voice. “You want a knot, why not beg alpha for it?”

“Please!” You cried out, uncaring if you woke up the whole hotel. “Please, alpha, need your knot, need it so bad.”

Hongjoong laughed, but it was more of a loud exhale with the effort of his thrusts. “I’ll give you a knot.”

He pushed into you, and you could feel something stretching you wide.

Hongjoong’s knot.

He came, deep inside you, his knot inflating. Wooyoung pressed a hand to your stomach, grinning at the way you felt full. “You really bred her, huh, Hongjoong.”

Hongjoong reached around to hug you. “C’mon, pretty, relax with me.”

You hummed, pliant, laying down with Hongjoong as he curled up on the bed. Wooyoung joined you, pulling a blanket over your connected forms and cuddling into your other side.

“Thanks Woo, thanks, Joong.” You whispered.

“No need to thank us.” Wooyoung kissed your neck, long and leisurely. “Always glad to fuck our favorite girl’s mouth. Whenever you want it.”

Hongjoong moved his leg, readjusting. You held back a moan at the slight motion of his cock inside you. “Yeah, we really should be thanking you, for letting us help you through your heat.”

“It’s not over yet.” You mumbled. “I’ve got a knot in me now, but as soon as it goes down… my heats tend to last some time.”

“Well, luckily for you, there are eight of us.” Hongjoong smiled.

The bed dipped as someone else got on. Wooyoung groaned in protest. “Hwa, let us have our moment.”

Seonghwa laughed softly. “I just wanted to join, not trying to ruin any moments.”

You absently started to stroke Wooyoung’s hair with one hand while you reached out for Seonghwa with the other.

Seonghwa smiled, leaning down to kiss you. “So beautiful, but you’re a needy thing, aren’t you?”

Out of the band’s members, you loved all of them in their own ways, but Seonghwa had always held a special allure. He was incredibly talented. The man played guitar and did vocals, none of the other members filled multiple roles like that. And he was sex on legs when he was onstage, singing duets with frontman San like they were in love. It drove the fangirls insane.

And you, but that wasn’t something you’d wanted to admit until now.

“Needy.” You nodded in agreement.

Seonghwa gave you another, longer kiss. This one was sweet, but it had an undercurrent of seduction that yanked you in and kept you there. He was trying to turn you on again, and though Hongjoong’s knot was still locked inside you, it would not be a difficult task.

“Hwa… Joong’s still inside me.” You whined.

Seonghwa bit your earlobe, making you twitch and gasp and arch your back. Hongjoong’s dick twitched inside you at that, and he groaned.

“Well, as soon as he’s done, it’s my turn, isn’t it?”

The words sent shivers through you. “I thought San and Mingi were arguing about that.”

“They’re still… busy.”

You looked over Seonghwa’s shoulder to see San sitting in the armchair Hongjoong had been in earlier, scrolling on his phone. His legs were spread, and Mingi knelt between them. “Don’t drool on my pants.” San said, his voice bored, but you could see the little smile tugging at his mouth.

“Fuck.” You whispered. “That’s hot.”

“Mingi and San like to be rough.” Seonghwa smiled. “It’s quite fun to watch. You’ll have to join us more often.”

Hongjoong let out a strangled moan as you clenched down on him. You had no idea what they were, you had no idea what you were with them. You did know, however, that you loved them, and they loved you. And now everyone was fucking, you guessed? But whatever. It seemed to work.

And it seemed you’d fit in with them quite well.

But you didn’t dwell on that too long, because when Seonghwa kissed you again, another wave of slick rushed out of you.

“Hongjoong.” You whimpered. “I need— I need—”

“I know.” Hongjoong kissed your neck. Wooyoung joined in, too, licking up the other side. “It’ll go down in just a second, and then Seonghwa can take his turn.”

The phrasing, his turn, turned you on so much. Seonghwa, just like the others, got to use your body. They all would.

You couldn’t help yourself, you rocked your body back onto Hongjoong’s cock. He hissed in overstimulation. You tried to be kind, to think of him, but your body just wanted to be fucked, more and more and more. You just held yourself back.

They kept kissing you for a few more minutes, your body burning, until Hongjoong’s knot started to go down. You whined as he pulled out, suddenly empty. “Seonghwa…”

“I know, baby.” He got his pants off, and you almost started drooling at the sight of his long cock.

Seonghwa slid inside you, and you sighed at the sensation. “Fuck...”

Hongjoong and Wooyoung went off to shower, kissing you one more time before they left. Seonghwa set a languid pace, rolling his hips deep inside you. You were both panting after a few minutes, and you threw your head back. “Need it harder, alpha.”

Seonghwa laughed softly. “Alpha? I’m a beta, baby, but I’m happy to fuck you harder.”

Your cheeks burned with embarrassment. “Sorry, Hwa, I didn’t mean to…”

Seonghwa stopped for a moment to kiss your head. “Nothing to apologize for. If anything, it’s kind of a compliment. But I know you need a knot right now.”

You swallowed, nodding.

Seonghwa thrust into you a few more times before turning over his shoulder with a sly smile. “Mingi, get your submissive ass over here.”

Mingi pulled off of San’s cock, his eyes heavily lidded, spit dripping down his chin. He looked obscene, fucked-out without even having been fucked.

“You heard him.” San patted his cheek just softly enough to be a pat and not a slap. “Get over there.”

“Mhm.” Mingi climbed onto the bed, sitting in front of Seonghwa.

He smiled. “Such a good boy… why doesn’t our good fuckpet satisfy y/n? Give her the knot she needs.” His voice was patronizing, condescending, but based on the significant bulge in Mingi’s pants, he was getting off on it.

Mingi nodded. “Wanna be a good boy for you, sir. Wanna make y/n feel good.”

A shiver ran through you.

“Why don’t you take off your clothes, then, and lay down on your back.” Seonghwa raised his eyebrows. “That’s not a suggestion, Mingi.”

Mingi squeaked, moving faster than you’d ever seen him move to get his pants and shirt off. He propped himself up on the pillows, looking at Seonghwa with wide eyes. You couldn’t take your eyes off of his cock, standing hard and full.

Seonghwa smiled and scratched his head. Mingi leaned into his hand. “Good boy. Y/n, why don’t you come ride him for me?”

You inhaled sharply and pulled away from Seonghwa’s cock, instead positioning yourself over Mingi’s and grabbing onto his shoulder. He looked at you with the most pathetic, desperate expression you’d ever seen. “Please, y/n.”

You sank onto his cock, moaning as every inch of it filled you up. He whimpered as you seated yourself fully on him, staying still for a moment to adjust to his size.

“Go on, baby. Use him.” Seonghwa encouraged, voice smooth as satin.

You took a breath and began to bounce on Mingi’s cock, moaning as he hit that spot inside you with every motion. Like the rest of him, his cock was big, and you were euphoric as you felt it deep inside you.

Seonghwa tilted your head towards him. You didn’t stop fucking yourself on Mingi, but you looked at him.

“Aw.” He simpered. “So sweet. The subs are playing nice. You wanna kiss me, baby?”

You nodded enthusiastically, desperately. “Yes, Seonghwa.”

“Sir.” He reminded you.

“Yes, sir.” You rushed to correct yourself.

“Good.” He murmured, leaning in. He gave you a long kiss that might’ve been sweet if he hadn’t started biting your bottom lip. You moaned into his mouth.

Mingi’s whines were a sweet soundtrack to Seonghwa’s kisses. He sounded so desperate and submissive, a far cry from the Mingi you knew onstage or even off.

“Can Mingi fuck me now?” You whined against Seonghwa’s mouth. “I’m tired.”

“Of course, baby.” Seonghwa helped position the two of you so Mingi could start fucking into you. He rubbed Mingi’s back for a moment before suddenly scratching down his spine. Mingi moaned, arching his back and pushing his cock deep into you.

“Good boy.” Seonghwa whispered. “Y/n wants you to fuck her, so make sure you do a good job.”

Mingi began rutting into you with the same fervor that Hongjoong had, only with a lot more whimpering and big puppy eyes. “Am I doing good for you, sir?”

Seonghwa grabbed Mingi’s hair and forced him to look at you. “Ask her if you’re doing good.” He looked at you. “Baby, be honest.”

“Am— am I doing good?” Mingi’s voice was small.

“So full.” You said, your voice breathy. “So good, Mingi, Seonghwa… Mingi, don’t stop.”

Seonghwa laughed meanly. “For someone with such a nice cock, it’s kind of funny how little Mingi uses it.” He yanked his head back. “He loves being stuffed full so much. So I’m sure this is a nice change of pace for him.”

Mingi looked at him. “She’s so tight… I’m gonna… sir, I can’t last much longer.”

“Knot her. Give her what she wants.” Seonghwa leaned down to speak into your ear. “He’s gonna breed you so full, isn’t he?”

Mingi pushed into you one last time before his knot expanded and you were locked together. You could feel him start to cum inside you, and you whined, shaking as your own orgasm overtook you.

When you came back into reality, Mingi was collapsed by your side, breathing hard. Seonghwa was furiously working his hand on his cock, and you watched, transfixed.

“Good boy, Mingi.” He breathed. “Good girl, y/n. You both did so good for me.”

You made a pleased noise, and that seemed to send him over the edge. He spilled onto his fist, his hips jerking up into it.

“’M sorry I wanted a knot.” You muttered, feeling bad Seonghwa didn’t get to finish inside you.

“Don’t apologize, baby.” Seonghwa said, looking around for a towel. “You have no idea how much I like watching.”

Your face got hot at the words. “Oh… well… that’s good.”

He finally found one, wiping off his hands. Mingi wrapped his arms around you as Seonghwa laid down on your other side. You were sandwiched in a giant Minhwa hug, and it was heavenly.

You didn’t quite fall asleep, but you were definitely drifting off cuddling with them. Having a knot inside you and two of your eight favorite people in the world with you made you feel happy and safe.

You heard the door open, but you didn’t care enough to look and see who it was, at least not until someone came over to you, and you heard two people messily kissing.

You opened your half-asleep eyes to see Mingi and Yunho making out, almost directly over your face. It was quite a sight to wake up to, and you moaned almost without realizing it.

They broke apart, both smiling down at you.

“Hi, sunshine.” Yunho leaned down to peck your forehead, and Mingi adjusted, moving his cock inside you. You whined at that, oversensitive but your body still craving more.

They ignored you, kissing each other again. You could feel Mingi’s knot starting to go down, and you pushed yourself back onto him, chasing the fullness. It was too late, though, he was pulling out, whispering an apology to you. “Sorry, Yunho’s gonna go next, though, okay?”

Your body was so hot, the ache between your legs so strong that you just looked at Mingi with big eyes. “Is he gonna fuck me?”

Yunho laughed. “Maybe I won’t. Maybe I’ll just make you lay there and stay still. Hold me deep inside you.”

You take a deep breath, trying to keep it together, but Yunho continues.

“You just wanna get fucked so bad, isn’t that right, you want me to breed you and make it feel so good… maybe I’ll just make you take me the way I want it, hm?”

You knew Yunho was an alpha. But he’d always been sweet and kind to you. He’d never teased you like this.

His large hands moved over your form, caressing you, your tits, your waist, your ass, rubbing your pussy. You stretched out, opening yourself up to all of him.

He laughed and unzipped his pants, revealing his cock straining against his boxers. You whimpered just looking at the bulge.

“Stop teasing, Yunho.” Seonghwa’s voice was playful. “Don’t you see how much she needs it?”

You gave Seonghwa a grateful look before turning your attention back to Yunho. “Please, Yunho.”

“I love your begging.” He smiled, but there was no kindness in it. It was toothy, almost predatory. He completely took his pants off and positioned himself over you like he was about to fuck you. His boxers were still on, and the cotton rubbed against your clit as he rubbed against you. You whined weakly, feeling almost dizzy with the need to be full.

“What did I say, Yunho.” Seonghwa’s voice was firmer now. “She’s in heat. Be nice.”

Yunho sighed, and before you knew what he was doing, you were flipped on your stomach, your knees propped up under you and your face pressed into the pillows.

“You wanna get fucked?” Yunho’s voice was almost a growl. Clearly he was not happy at Seonghwa’s interference. “I’ll fuck you, sunshine.”

A thrill went through your body at his roughness. You could feel his tip at your entrance, and you took a deep breath.

Yunho pushed inside in one swift motion, and the breath you’d just taken whooshed out of your lungs. He was so deep inside you, so big, so good…

And then he started moving. With every deep thrust, you felt like you might cum that second. He was so rough, his fingers digging into your hips. You knew for sure there would be bruises the next morning.

Yunho fucked you like he hated you, and as he leaned over your back, you could feel he was still wearing his sweater and buttons from the show. The pins felt cold on your back, and you shivered.

“You like it like that? You like it when I fuck you rough?”

You nodded. “Yes, alpha.”

“You know, you really should share with Sannie.” Seonghwa’s voice was light, lilting. “He’s been waiting so patiently.”

You could hear rustling behind you, and a whimper that sounded like Mingi’s. It was probably San standing up, and you wondered if Mingi had returned to sucking him off as soon as his knot had gone down and he’d left the bed.

Yunho fucking growled.

You whined, the display of dominance turning you on more, but the rest of the room went silent.

“I’m so sorry.” Yunho said immediately, stilling his hips. “Oh my God, I did not mean to do that.”

“It’s okay.” San said, and he sounded genuine. “Take your time with y/n, I’ll get my turn after.”

You did your best to stay still, trying not to ruin their conversation, but you needed him fucking inside you.

“Thank you, San.” Yunho’s voice turned to you. “You alright, sunshine?”

“Mhm.” Your voice was small. “Yes, Alpha.”

“You want more?” Yunho’s voice turned smooth, slippery.

“Yes.” You breathed.

“Yunho?”

You pushed yourself up from the bed at that voice. “Yeosang?” You hadn’t even heard him come in.

But there he was, sitting cross legged on the bed beside you. You could see the fabric between his legs was dark, clinging to his thighs with slick.

“What is it, baby?” Yunho hummed.

Yeosang bit his lip. “I fear… y/n may be sending me into heat.”

Your head nearly spun at that. One omega sending another into heat was not something that happened often, not unless the pheromones were just right. It had to be the scents of the alphas in the room who’d already fucked you who had a relationship to Yeosang, right? It couldn’t be you?

Yeosang smelled sweet, smelled needy. You whined.

“Hey, Sannie? I have an idea.” Seonghwa said. “Why don’t you fuck Yeosang while you wait your turn.”

“Fuck.” San sighed. “I would love to, but I gotta keep disciplining this little slut for now.” There was a strangled noise from probably Mingi.

You could hear Seonghwa’s smirk in his voice. “Joong? Wanna get over here and fill Sangie up?”

“I can do that.”

You’d almost forgotten about Hongjoong and Wooyoung. You looked around for them and saw Wooyoung laying on the other bed, watching, as Hongjoong got up to position Yeosang beside you.

He smiled at you. “Hi, y/n.”

“Hi, Yeosang.” You breathed. He was so beautiful, still in his stage makeup, with bronze blush and little star freckles dotting his cheeks. “You’re so pretty.”

“You’re pretty.”

“Can I kiss Yeosang?” You looked over your shoulder at Yunho.

He laughed, thrusting his hips into you. Your head fell back on the pillow in front of you.

“Yeah, you can kiss him.”

You pulled your head up and looked at Yeosang for a moment, just taking him in. His expression went blissed-out for a moment as Hongjoong slid inside him, and you took that opportunity to pull his face to yours and kiss him.

“Mm, y/n.” He moaned into your mouth. “You taste so good.”

“Wooyoung.” You explained.

You and Yeosang kept kissing, your hands slowly getting a little more exploratory with each other, while Yunho fucked you and Hongjoong fucked him. It felt so fucking good to have him inside you, and to have two pairs of warm hands on your body.

You were dimly aware of Seonghwa moving to the other bed, and based on the sounds you were hearing he was touching Wooyoung, but you were too caught up in Yunho and Yeosang to really care.

You could barely breathe for the size of Yunho’s cock inside you. He wasn’t quite as big as Mingi, but he still felt delicious inside you, hitting spots inside you that made you sigh and whine in pleasure. This was a side of him you’d never seen, and it made you feel so good.

“Fuck me.” You whined.

“I am, sunshine.” Yunho gripped your hips tighter. “You’re already kissing Sangie, do you need someone else to come over and shut you up with their cock?” His voice turned into a whisper that edged on a growl. “No one else is touching you till I’m done with you.”

Yunho’s possessiveness was really fucking hot. He was a man possessed, fucking you with the fervor of an acolyte worshipping their god.

Yeosang whimpered, and you looked at him. His eyes were squeezed shut, tears beading at their corners, and his mouth was wide. You wondered what he’d look like choking on someone’s cock— Mingi’s giant one, maybe. Although it seemed from what Seonghwa had said he wasn’t going to be fucking anyone’s face. Maybe they used Yeosang as a punishment. He’d have to hold Mingi in his mouth while Mingi stayed completely still. You could see it in your mind’s eye, Mingi looking at Hwa or Hongjoong and absolutely begging to thrust down Yeosang’s throat, and them denying him time after time. Maybe he’d even cry.

You were pulled out of your thoughts by a particularly rough thrust from Yunho, and you cried out as you felt his knot starting to build at your entrance. “Fuck, Yunho, knot me, please.” You cried.

“Beg a little harder.” He snarled.

“Please, please, Yunho, please!”

“That’s it.” He held you in a punishing grip, forcing his knot into you. You held your hand to your stomach, feeling the bulge of him inside you. He began to cum, groaning, and your orgasm hit you at the same moment. You arched your back, pushing you into a kiss with Yeosang, who returned it with a whine.

Yunho slumped on top of you, pressing a kiss onto your back. “You feel so fucking good, sunshine. Taking my cock so good.”

You sighed. “You feel so good, Yunho.”

The door opened one more time. You knew who it had to be.

“Jongho.” San said. “Welcome to the orgy!”

You could smell him as soon as he walked into the room. You’d forgotten he’d started entering pre-rut right after the show, and had decided to sequester himself in his room. It seemed Mingi’s text had encouraged him to come take a turn with you.

Yunho’s knot went down quickly, deflating at the scent of another alpha clearly ready to fuck you into submission. The look in Jongho’s eyes was downright predatory, but the rest of his expression looked a bit nervous. He was chewing on his lip. “Hey y/n… do you still… need someone?”

You could feel yourself growing distressed at the sensation of so many ateez member’s cum leaking out of you. “Yes, Jongho, please, I need you to fill me up.”

Jongho’s clothes were off him in a flash, and he was on top of you. You were briefly worried that Yunho would get aggressive again, but he seemed spent, moving to take your place making out with Yeosang on the other half of the bed.

“Not so fast, Choi.” San stood up. “I’ve been waiting though everyone else, it’s my turn.”

Jongho looked thoughtful for a moment. “What if we shared?”

San raised his eyebrows. “I’m listening.”

“I’ll get inside her… and then you can join me.” He looked between your legs. “I think her little hole can take it.”

You clenched around nothing, breathing hard. The thought of both of them inside you at the same time, fucking you in rhythm, was almost more than your heat-addled brain could handle. You needed them so bad you could barely even get out a whine, your desire choking you.

San smiled. “I like that idea.”

Jongho lined himself up with you, everyone’s cum and your slick making it an easy slide inside. You still gasped as he filled you up. Jongho was so thick, you wondered how San would fit.

“Fuck.” Jongho’s voice was low. “I’m gonna knot you so hard.”

You took a shaky breath, lifting your hips weakly in an effort to get him to move.

He laughed and grabbed your legs, starting to push in and out. Your eyes started to lose focus.

“San, get over here.”

You weren’t even paying attention to how they were positioning themselves, your eyes fixed on the ceiling, but you could feel a finger enter beside Jongho’s cock.

The stretch was so good. It was intense, but you could handle it. You wanted more. You wanted both of them.

“More.” You choked out.

“Slut.” San bit out. “I’ll give you more.” He bypassed two fingers and skipped straight to three. “Good, taking it so well. You’re gonna need to be prepared if you want both of us.”

“Want both of you.”

San sighed. “So impatient.” You could feel something bigger pressing at your entrance, beside Jongho. San swore, Jongho made a high noise, and you panted as he slowly pushed himself inside of you.

“Beautiful.” Jongho reached down to brush away a piece of your hair. “Beautiful girl.”

You made a pleased noise.

And then you couldn’t make any noise at all as they began to fuck you, alternating thrusts. First San’s cock, then Jongho’s, then San’s, then Jongho’s. It was so much, and the rhythm was uneven at the beginning, making it even nicer when they settled into it. You were overstimulated, your body trembling and leaking slick and taking it so well, as Jongho and San kept telling you.

The room had descended into debauchery. Hongjoong and Yeosang were still going at it, with Yunho stroking Yeosang’s cock. Seonghwa and Wooyoung had begun to fuck Mingi from both ends, and he looked like he was in heaven. And of course Jongho and San were both deep inside you.

You hadn’t expected your night to go like this, not even a little bit, but you were so glad for the turn it had taken.

Jongho groaned. “I’m gonna cum, Sannie.”

San sighed. “Ugh, fine.” He moved up towards your face and held his cock in front of your mouth. “Get me off, y/n.”

You practically started salivating at the sight of his cock, opening your mouth and starting to lick at his tip.

Jongho gave a few more strong thrusts before his knot inflated. Your eyes rolled back in your head as he locked himself inside you and started to cum, weakly sucking on San.

As your orgasm passed, you flopped on your back, completely exhausted.

“It’s okay, baby, I can finish myself off.” San whispered, kissing your forehead. “You were so good for us.”

You finally felt satiated for the night, satisfied, now that all eight of your boys had had the chance to take a turn with you. Your heat hadn’t broken yet, but you felt safe now. If you had them with you, everything would be okay.

And as the rest of them finished up and crawled on the bed to cuddle with you and the others, you thought that this was what a pack must feel like.

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asterafroditis · 2 months ago

Note

heeeeeyyy! <3

if it's ok with you i wanted to request a scenario where the reader magically gets turned into a baby or a kid (it's temporary) and we get to see how each dorm would take care of them or babysit in their own way

i recently read a fic (Spring of Canathus (AKA: They’re Babies) by cheapshrimpysheep) where the housewardens were the ones turned into babies and the reader had to take care of them so now i’m curious to see the roles reversed and how you write it!

𐔌 . ⋮ tiny trouble .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

☓┆ Platonic TWST Dorms x gn! reader

𓏵 2225 words

ᝰ.ᐟ headcanons, they/them pronouns used, fluff

idk if you wanted this to be everyone in the dorms taking care of the reader or just the housewardens so I just did the dorms, hope you don't mind (-ω-；) feel free to like, reblog, or comment!

ᝰ.ᐟ masterlist

Due to a magical mishap during a potions class, you—an ordinary Night Raven College student—get accidentally hit by an experimental brew that reverts you to a toddler for a week. Crowley, being the usual "problem-solving" headmaster that he is, decides to put you under the other dorms' care for the time being.

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The moment Heartslabyul find a tiny version of yourself—no taller than a stack of textbooks—at their doorstep, Riddle is on high alert. He is not used to this sort of chaos, but he's the type who takes responsibility very seriously. As housewarden of Heartslabyul, he refuses to let the situation spiral into madness. You are scooped up and brought into the dorm with all the care of a noble cradling royalty.

“You are still a student of Night Raven College,” he says sternly, but with a touch of red in his cheeks, “and until the potion wears off, you’ll be treated with the utmost propriety.”

Riddle enforces structure even in babysitting: strict bedtime (8 p.m. sharp), healthy snacks (apple slices and tea, no tarts), and scheduled learning time. He reads to you with perfect diction, often from spell theory books he assumes you’ll enjoy. You fall asleep halfway through more often than not.

Trey is the one who bakes soft, kid-friendly pastries and distracts you with silly flour shapes. He’s the gentle uncle-type, letting you sit on the counter while he bakes. Cater takes the most pictures, snapping selfies with you in sparkly filters. You don't know what a 'Magicam story' is in this state, but he assures you that you're going viral. Ace tries to teach you card tricks and gets pouty when you don’t get them right; Deuce is surprisingly gentle, kneeling down and listening to your babbles like they’re sacred law.

Riddle might scold them all for not following proper babysitting etiquette, but there’s no mistaking the way his gaze softens when he sees you giggling in the lounge with your makeshift 'older brothers.' He insists on walking you to and from classes himself, even if it's just down the hallway, muttering something about how the potion should’ve never spilled onto you. When the effect wears off and you’re back to normal, Riddle clears his throat, adjusts his collar, and says:

“Ahem. See that you don't get into such trouble again. But... if it were to happen once more—I suppose Heartslabyul would be prepared.”

─────────────────────────

The moment you’re put into Savannaclaw's care, Leona sighs like the universe itself has conspired to ruin his nap schedule. Still, he doesn’t pawn you off. In fact, he picks you up with surprising ease, balancing you on one hip like he’s done it before.

“Don’t expect me to run around after you,” he grumbles, settling back on his bed with you nestled beside him. “If you’ve got energy, go climb Ruggie or something.”

He’s far from what you'd call the nurturing type, but Leona’s brand of babysitting is more subtle. He keeps you close, even if it’s under the guise of using you as a ‘weighted blanket.’ He lets you nap with his tail draped over you and flicks it just to make you giggle. There’s a protective tilt to his ears whenever someone gets too loud nearby.

Ruggie is the one who takes over most of the hands-on work. He’s a natural babysitter—playful, clever, and good at keeping you entertained. He sneakily sneaks snacks your way and even lets you wear his oversized hoodie. Jack, while flustered, tries to keep things orderly, gently offering you his hand when crossing rooms and awkwardly patting your head.

Leona doesn’t miss any of it. He watches from the sidelines, pretending he’s annoyed by your antics, but every so often, you catch him smirking when you try to roar like a lion cub. He teaches you how to lounge properly (“Pillows, sunshine, and silence; it’s an art.”) and, surprisingly, hums a lullaby when you can't sleep.

When the potion wears off, he barely reacts, just flicks your forehead and mutters, “About time.” But later that day, Ruggie approaches you and is eager to tell you all about how soft their housewarden got for the small price of a snack.

─────────────────────────

The moment you were turned into a child and put into Octavinelle's care, Azul was both horrified and intrigued. Horrified because this sort of mishap could potentially cause trouble towards the dorm, and intrigued because, well, he knows all about the marketing genius of getting cute kids to advertise your brand.

Despite his usual composed demeanor, Azul would be extremely careful with you. He wouldn't leave you alone in the lounge, and he'd adjust his tone to be more soothing, almost like how he talks to nervous clients. At one point, you ask if he's your dad now (to the amusement of the twins), and Azul nearly chokes on his tea. "N-No! Absolutely not! I'm merely acting in the best interest of your safety!"

Jade, ever the picture of eerie calm, takes on the role of silent guardian. He's the one making sure you eat, giving you nutritious meals (even if they taste suspiciously like mushrooms), and walking you around the halls with the smooth cadence of a butler. When you start tugging on his sleeve and babbling his name out loud, he only smiles and corrects your posture.

Floyd, on the other hand, thinks this is the best thing that has ever happened. He calls you "Shrimpy Jr." (since you're much smaller than before) and swings you around like a plush toy. He’ll let you sit on his shoulders, give you snacks Azul told him not to, and constantly whines when you get sleepy: “Nooo, Shrimpy Jr.’s nap time again? Boring~! Lemme keep ‘em!”

Between Azul’s careful supervision, Jade’s quiet attentiveness, and Floyd’s chaotic affection, you’re constantly watched—and probably a little spoiled.

─────────────────────────

"A baby?!" Kalim shouts, holding you up like you're the rarest treasure in all of the Scalding Sands, having picked you up from Scarabia's doorstep. "Jamil, look! They're so tiny! Can we keep them?!"

Jamil, ever the voice of reason (and sarcasm), groans. "Kalim, they’re not a pet. They're a student who unfortunately fell victim to a cauldron spilling in potions class. We have to take care of them until they turn back."

But for the time being, you're taken under Scarabia's warm, chaotic wing. Kalim is constantly making sure you’re entertained—building pillow forts, teaching you how to ride the magic carpet (at a very slow speed, much to Jamil’s relief), and throwing spontaneous parties. He even tries to share his jewelry with you, which ends with you trying to eat a ruby ring. Jamil intervenes just in time.

Jamil, while grumbling the whole time, is incredibly attentive. He brushes your hair, makes sure you’re not being overwhelmed, and slips in educational games between Kalim’s circus acts. His stern exterior doesn’t last long when you tug at his sleeve and ask him to read to you. He rolls his eyes, sighs heavily, and pulls out a book—though a small smile betrays him halfway through the first story.

The rest of Scarabia treats you like a tiny sibling. Some of the dorm members even start playing around with you or gently chasing you around the courtyard for laughs. The atmosphere is vibrant, warm, and full of cushiony comfort.

Scarabia doesn’t just babysit you—they adore you.

─────────────────────────

Pomefiore, known for its emphasis on beauty, grace, and discipline, was not exactly designed for childcare. Yet, as soon as Vil caught wind of your condition, he took it upon himself to ensure you were cared for to Pomefiore standards—which, of course, meant you would be the most well-dressed and well-behaved child in all of NRC.

“You may be a child for now, but that’s no excuse to run wild,” Vil said sternly as he adjusted the tiny, custom-made outfit he had designed for you—embroidered with subtle violets and perfectly tailored to your smaller frame. “A lapse in age is no excuse for a lapse in dignity.”

He was surprisingly good with you. Not overly doting, but attentive. Every meal was nutritious and artfully plated. Every nap was scheduled between soothing herbal tea and classical music in the background. Vil kept you engaged with picture books that had tasteful color palettes, and he always insisted on wiping your face after every snack with a soft handkerchief.

Sometimes, he’d sigh when you clung to him, resting your small head against his shoulder. But he never pushed you away. He’d simply hold you with a gentle firmness, murmuring, “You’re lucky you’re cute. Though I suppose that’s to be expected in Pomefiore.”

Epel, on the other hand, was… not as thrilled. He wasn’t bad with kids—he just wasn’t sure how to handle you. His country upbringing kicked in once he got past the shock, and he’d sometimes sneak you extra sweets or entertain you with silly faces and gestures Vil would scold him for.

“They're just a kid,” Epel muttered once as Vil reprimanded him for letting you run barefoot around the halls. “Shouldn’t they be allowed to have a little fun?” But even as he grumbled, Epel made sure you were never too far from his sight.

Rook treated the whole ordeal like some rare opportunity granted by fate. “Ah, our dear trickster has become even more precious in this petite form,” he’d say dramatically, crouching beside you to speak in soft tones. He was the most patient of the trio—amused by your curiosity, thrilled by your giggles, and more than happy to carry you around when you grew tired.

He’d hum old ballads to you, completely serious, as if serenading a noble in disguise.

There was a calm rhythm to your days in Pomefiore. The dorm members made sure you were safe, clean, and gently cared for. And even when Vil insisted on posture drills and hand-washing rituals, he still tucked you in at night with the quiet pride of someone who didn’t know how to express affection except through precision.

─────────────────────────

The moment Crowley settled your toddler self in Ignihyde, Idia, of course, panicked. Not because he didn’t care, but because this was way outside his comfort zone. "A kid? Here? In my dorm? What if they touch my figurines?! What if they drool on the keyboard?!"

Eventually, after some encouragement from Ortho, he awkwardly ventures out of his room to see you—standing in the middle of the Ignihyde hallway in an oversized hoodie, blinking up at him.

You wave. He freezes.

"...They're kinda cute."

Despite his anxiety, Idia takes good care of you in his own way. He sets up a comfy corner in his room filled with plushies, distracts you with a kid-friendly video game with Ortho, and even gives you a tablet to run drawing apps and cartoons. He talks to you like any game character would to a baby NPC, interacting with you as if you have preset responses and reactions.

Ortho, of course, becomes your babysitter #1. He reads you stories, checks your vitals, and even plays hide-and-seek at slow speeds so you can win. The rest of Ignihyde? Mostly confused. They're not used to visitors—especially tiny ones—but they adapt quickly, always offering you something to distract yourself with whenever you approach them, so they could go back to doing whatever they wanted to.

─────────────────────────

No one in Diasomnia was particularly shocked when you got turned into a baby; strange magical occurrences were practically the norm around this school. What did surprise everyone was how quickly the entire dorm fell into sync taking care of you.

Malleus was delighted. “Child of man, you’re even smaller than usual,” he’d say, beaming. He would speak to you in an oddly formal but gentle tone, lifting you effortlessly into his arms and carrying you through misty halls. His stories about Briar Valley fairy tales might be a bit long-winded for a child, but his soothing voice made you drowsy all the same.

Lilia took over your care like it was second nature. He hummed lullabies from ancient times, cooked suspicious meals that Malleus forbade you from eating, and jokingly encouraged you to ‘practice your dagger form’ using butter knives (which was quickly vetoed by Sebek).

Sebek, torn between duty and panic, kept trying to salute you like you were a visiting dignitary. “You, tiny human, must not—! I mean—you should not toddle into Malleus-sama's room with muddy shoes! Respect the Young Master’s halls!” He kept insisting on reading you Briar Valley etiquette books. You fell asleep halfway through page one.

Silver, dependable as ever, carried you around when you got tired. You fell asleep on his shoulder more than once, his calm aura a comforting presence. He read you animal tales with a soft smile, occasionally nodding off beside you.

Other Diasomnia members kept a respectful distance but left you with trinkets you could play around with.

Under their collective care, you felt like royalty—cradled in a dorm where ancient power met tender affection.

974 notes · View notes

missadangel · 28 days ago

Text

MAKE HIM DISLIKE LOVE YOU

Harry Castillo x Reader (The Materialists)

Chapter 8: Trick or Threat

prev chapter series masterlist next chapter

Chapter Summary: You and Harry are officially together, and everything’s going really well. However, something else is on the horizon… What could it be? Warnings: 18+ (smut, MDNI) kinda romantic comedy stuff, fluffy, angst, lying, soft and caring Harry Castillo, Lucy as his ex, John as Lucy's ex, wealth, expensive gifts, drinks, money, cars, language, sexual tension, oral sex, p in v sex, kissing, slow burn, power imbalance, I might have missed some warnings; I will update them in due time. Chapter Word Count: 9,5k, SMUT & ROMANCE & INTRIGUE, feelings!!! fluffy, rom-com, lust, passion, jealousy, dirty talk, love triangle, intrigue, funeral, mention about death, car, racing authors note: Thank you all for your support, asks, comments, reblogs and likes. I appreciate each and every one of you! Love you all!

"When I returned from France, I took the reins of the business. Gerardo, Maria's husband, had managed things in my absence, but I could tell it was tough given their divorce. We're still piecing things back together."

In the morning, you two were lying in bed, just chatting and trying to unearth the smallest secrets lingering between you and Harry.

“So, was work really the reason you went to France or was it all about Lucy?”

Harry propped himself up on his elbow, looking deep into your eyes. “I can’t deny it; I was hurt. That much is true. But it didn’t last long. I threw myself into work to keep the melancholy at bay. But then I realized how unfair I was being to myself. Why should I mourn someone who wasn’t worth it?” His hand glided over the cream satin sheets. “So, I decided to move back to New York, even though Maria was always pushing me.”

“What about the matchmaker thing? What prompted you to feel such pressure to get married immediately after returning?”

He smirked. “Maria... You see she has always been like a sister to me since I was a kid. She was convinced I needed to tie the knot ASAP and organized everything. I went on five blind dates before I met you, and trust me, they were all disasters. It seemed like all they cared about was what I could offer them for a comfortable, luxurious life—totally loveless and insincere. Maria and I agreed to one last date, and if I didn't find what I was looking for, she promised to cut me loose.” He gently stroked your cheek. “When I saw Melanie Johnson’s profile, I was so relieved; it felt like just the evidence I needed to convince Maria. But when I came across your photo, something felt off about the information. Your appearance warmed my heart. I felt like there had to be a mistake, so I took a chance and wanted to meet you in person.”

You laughed. “Wow, looks like your instincts were right.”

“I think it was the best decision I’ve ever made,” he said, smiling as he slid his hand down your shoulder and along your arm, finally cupping your hand and leaning in to kiss it.

Your fingertips danced delicately across his lips, tracing their curves. "What about that Stella, the girl in the photo Maria baited me with?"

He sighed, a hint of a frown crossing his face. “I promise, it was nothing serious. That lasted just a week. She was always caught up in the modeling world, and honestly, I think I was too old to keep up with her glamorous lifestyle.”

“Well, now you’ve got me wondering—how many women have you been with? I’m almost afraid to ask,” you teased, narrowing your eyes playfully.

He tilted his head, clearly thinking it over.

His thinking phase made you tense.

“Too many to even remember.”

Your jaw dropped in mock horror. “Slut,” you teased again, nudging him with your shoulder.

Well, he was a really handsome guy—why would that surprise you?

He chuckled. “Okay, your turn, baby. Spill it.” His voice was low and teasing as he traced his nose along your cheek to your chin.

“Hmmm, way too many to count; it’s like counting grains of sand on a beach.”

Suddenly, he stopped, looking at you with a serious expression. You couldn’t help but chuckle a little at how intense he looked. “Stop giving me that look. I’m just joking with you—relax.” You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed his temple.

“That was worse than I thought,” he murmured with curiosity in his tone. “So how many?”

“Only three,” you admitted shyly. “All back in Atlanta—if you count high school. The second was a summer fling gone wrong. And the last one, three years back, was just toxic—emotionally draining, like an automatic routine... It felt like there was something essential missing. It had zero—”

“Passion,” he cut in for you, finishing your sentence.

You locked eyes, an electric connection sparked between you. “Yeah, exactly,” you murmured, your gaze dropping to his lips.

At that moment, he pulled you in closer and kissed you, pouring all his hunger and desire into it—just the kind of passion you’ve been talking about.

Yeah, passion was the word.

What a powerful force it was.

It felt like you were meant for each other, completely in sync. Being with him brought a sense of happiness you’d never experienced before. He didn’t just want your body; he craved your voice, your scent, every little part of you. It was like he found a piece of himself he thought he lost, and he was beyond thrilled about it.

What more could he ask for?

“So you're a chaste little kitten, huh?” he said, his lips brushing your collarbone. “Considering the dirty sounds you make with me, I was expecting something different.”

“Mmm, like what?” you teased, playing with his curls.

“I kind of thought many guys from your past would pop up.”

You chuckled lightly. “Nope. I’ve been so caught up with work that I barely have time to think about love. And let’s be real, I’m no beauty queen or model or anything—I’m not exactly turning heads everywhere I go.”

He pulled back slightly to meet your gaze, his eyes alight with sincerity. “Are you kidding? You’re heartbreakingly beautiful. I’ve never told this to anyone before, but the first time I laid eyes on you, it felt like I was struck by lightning.”

You giggled, a playful spark fluttering in your chest. “That sounds like something straight out of a movie, or maybe even a cliché.”

“I know it does, but it’s the truth, believe me. I really appreciate the real Melanie for bringing us together, even if it was in a pretty strange way."

Your smile widened. “Same here. And about those sounds I make, I have to admit, no one has ever made me feel this alive before.” His lips tugged into a teasing smirk. “Now I’m the one sounding like a cliché, right?”

"I’ll gladly accept that as a compliment.”

"You should," you laughed and pressed your lips to his ear. "Because in my previous experiences I have often "pretended". But with you it's all real you slutty ol'man."

He laughed darkly. "I fluttered, baby," he said as he lifted the sheet off you, exposing your body to the sunlight flooding the room. He pressed you down on the bed with his weight, pinning your wrists over your head with one hand and holding your chin in the other. You swallowed hard, blinking repeatedly as waves of ecstasy and exhilaration surged through you. "I really hope you won’t be mad at me for doing my best to make you this old man's little slut." He leaned down, grabbed your lips, and sank forcefully into your mouth, spreading your legs with his knee.

"Harry." Fluttering your eyes open you searched his face silently pleading with him to ease the bubbling sexual tension built between you.

Pinching hard on your stiffened breasts he listened to you yelp. “Be a good girl and tell me.” He rubbed the tip of his hard cock against your slit, causing you to writhe and moan with ecstasy. Your body on fire, your breath filled with heat. “You wanna be my little slut?” He whispered sweetly.

With your body trembling, cheeks burning with heat, back arching, biting your lower lip you nodded frantically. “Yes,” you breathed harshly. Your body shuddered and flushed in anticipation at the thought of being filled by him.

And you were out of patience.

Your eyes flashed with a glint of mischief, pulling down your teeth crashed hard into his neck as you sucked roughly on his skin until you felt his hand leave your chest and clasped around your throat.

“Naughty kitten,” he purred with delight.

The sound of you moaning and mewing like a real kitten into his ear sent a churning sensation through his stomach, sending him dangerously over the edge.

Not so soon, he thought himself, eager to make it last longer.

He turned his head to find your lips once more and pulled them close to his, devouing your mouth eagerly, passionetly. Grabbing your thighs tightly, he plunged himself deep with your dripping pussy. “Fuck-” he groaned “-that never gets old.” He started into a pulverizing rhythm of pulling himself almost completely out and then pushing himself as deep within you as your bodies allowed.

It was that moment of struggle again, he felt incredible inside you, he felt alive, indestructible, but he couldn't wait to get to the grand finale, eager to spill himself inside you, desperate to feel your walls close around him, and once again, he was caught in the middle.

It felt like he could never get enough of you, not at all.

Egged on by your gasping for breath he switched his hand positions from your waist to your hips to bring you both closer to the edge.

Your eyes glazed over with ecstasy watching the muscles on his arms and chest flex as he pounded into you mercilessly. You loved the way his brow furrowed in concentration as you made love. His body was perfect, like a statue sculpted by the many hours spent.

“Mmmh—I don’t mind being your slut—if this is the view,” you choked between his brutal thrusts, gripping his biceps wildly. “Fuck your little slut harder!"

“You’re so—mmh—you’re so fucking dirty, baby. I love it. Gonna come—.” Letting out a loud groan he felt your walls contracting hard around his throbbing member. His arms wrapped around your waist, lifting you off the bed, pulling your body close to his.

“Me too,” you replied breathlessly, wrapping your arms around his neck, your nails dug into the back of his neck. Hopping onto his lap violently up and down caused your nails to graze his skin painfully, and he groaned loudly.

However, he didn't even mind if you almost made him bleed.

You could do whatever you wanted with him; he was yours to take.

Ragged breathing halted as he poured himself into you. His movements slowed as you held onto one another. He leaned your bodies back down to rest against the bed.

Your lips sucked softly against his flesh, tasting the glistening salty tang that coated his body. Gratefully, he returned the favour, licking your neck up to your chin, biting, sucking, savouring your sweet taste and the moment itself.

Feeling his heart beat returned to its normal steady rhythm you looked up to see his face looking down smiling at you. "I love you, baby," he purred.

"I love you too, Harry."

He smiled before leaning down to kiss you. “Shower?”

“Count me in,” you said, laughing.

His mouth broke into a playful, cheeky grin this time. "How about a hot shower?"

He asked as if you hadn't just had incredibly hot sex.

You widened your eyes in surprise. "Seriously? It’s been like 5 or 6 times since last night, and you're still being greedy, mister."

He buried his nose in your hair, breathing you in. “You bring it out in me, baby.”

"Okay, but let’s make it quick; I need to be ready for work soon."

He lifted you effortlessly into his arms. "It’ll be the fastest and hottest shower ever—buckle up!"

You both giggled all the way as he carried you to the bathroom.

As Harry dropped you off at the hotel around noon, a wave of relief washed over you. Alan wasn’t lurking around, and that was a small victory. You couldn't bring yourself to share the weight of what Alan had told you last time—not yet. The prospect of creating unnecessary tension made your stomach churn. Besides, he would surely come to understand the seriousness of your relationship in time, and he would give up, wouldn’t he?

Before saying goodbye, Harry mentioned he had a special event to attend that evening and invited you to join him. Your instinct was to decline—after all, you had a million things to do—but his persistent charm won you over. You didn’t want to disappoint him, so you reluctantly agreed. That meant you had to cut your work short to prepare, which sent you rushing into the hotel, straight to the kitchen.

In the midst of the chaos, Bruno reminded you about the upcoming fair. His eyes sparkled with excitement as he explained that if you launched your own bakery brand in time, it could be the perfect opportunity to promote it. That news felt like a double-edged sword. On one hand, you had promised Harry you would leave your cleaning job behind, meaning you’d spend the entire week at the hotel—including those dreaded Mondays and Thursdays. Your internship was finally nearing its end. But on the flip side, the thought of starting your own brand meant you’d need to open a shop soon, which required financial support. Harry was eager to help, but you felt a deep sense of obligation that made accepting his generosity uncomfortable.

And, of course, with your renewed schedule, you’d definitely run into Alan more often.

Just what you needed.

Shaking off the worry, you reminded yourself that you were close to achieving your dreams; patience was key. But the moment you spotted Alan in the dining room, anxiety flared up again. The memory of your last conversation haunted you, and just seeing him sent your nerves into overdrive. Then you noticed Maria seated across from him, her expression growing increasingly troubled. Each time she glanced at him, her frustration deepened, and when she abruptly stood up, you felt compelled to go after her.

“Maria!” you called out, sprinting after her. She turned around, and your heart sank—she looked on the verge of tears.

“Are you okay? What happened?” you asked softly, touching her shoulder gently.

“It's nothing, really,” she replied, pulling a handkerchief from her bag, but her eyes revealed a different story.

“Come on, Maria. You look awful. What’s going on between you and Alan?”

Her lip trembled as she fought to mask her anger. “He’s an asshole—a truly wicked, evil man.”

“What do you mean? What did he do?”

“Just forget it, okay? I’m begging you, please don’t tell Harry you saw me here, especially with Alan.”

“But if he asks me—”

“Please,” she interrupted, almost pleading.

Seeing her like this was shocking; she was usually so strong and fearless. “Okay, of course, I won’t say anything,” you assured her softly.

She pulled out a compact mirror, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I’ll catch you at the reception tonight,” she said, turning towards the exit.

You watched her leave, your mind swirling with questions about what had happened to upset her so deeply.

After work, while waiting for Harry to pick you up in the hotel lobby, you decided to give Zoe a call. Thankfully, her ankle had fully healed, and she told you she'd be back at work on Monday.

“Oh my God, I can't believe you two are finally official!” Zoe's excited voice rang through the phone.

��Yeah, it's about time,” you laughed. “So, how did everything go with John?”

“It went amazing! Just so you know, we're officially a couple now. Our first date is lined up for next week.”

“That’s fantastic, Zoe! I’m so happy for you.”

You couldn't help but wonder if John had shared everything with her. You knew you should ask her in person instead of over the phone.

“Since you’re at your boyfriend’s place now, when do you plan to pick up your things?”

“Whoa, I’m not moving in just yet. Honestly, I’m not sure I’m ready for that. Wait a sec... Are you trying to rush me or something? Or is John thinking about moving in?”

She fell silent for a moment.

“Babe, don’t you think this is all moving a bit too fast? It feels kind of early, right? I mean, does it really make sense to move in together when you’ve just started dating?” You were running your fingers through your hair when you suddenly noticed someone next to you. You hung up just as you caught Alan giving you this awkward smile. “Call you back…”

What the hell?

How long had he been standing there, and did he hear any of that?

Avoiding his gaze, you got up, acutely aware of his eyes on you.

“We didn’t get a chance to talk today. How have you been?”

The jerk acted as if nothing had happened.

Why would you want to talk to him anyway?

That was the real question.

"Fine," you replied coldly, looking away, your tone sharper than intended, fingers tightening around your bag's strap. Just then, he reached out, his hand clasping yours.

“What happened to your hand?”

Oh right, when you were rushing around in the kitchen, you accidentally splashed hot oil on yourself.

Bruno had treated the burn, it wasn’t serious but still.

“It’s nothing,” you said, trying to pull your hand back, but he held on tight.

You looked away as he examined your hand, and your heart nearly stopped when you caught sight of Harry through the glass windows at the entrance. Panic surged through you, and you tried to tug your hand free from Alan's grip with all your might. Immediately, you regretted it—the sudden burn stung painfully against his skin, and you couldn’t help but let out a soft moan.

At that moment, Harry spotted your expression and strode through the revolving door toward you, shoving Alan away.

Alan stumbled back, initially shocked but then laughing angrily.

"What the heck are you doing to her?"

"Harry, calm down."

But he didn’t hear you; the two men were locked in a tense, unwavering stare. Alan casually adjusted his tie. “Don't be so dramatic, Castillo.”

Harry turned to you and stepped protectively in front of you. “Why are you always lurking around her? What's your problem?”

People in the lobby were watching intently, all eyes glued to the unfolding scene.

“Don’t be ridicolus. This place is mine. It’s my hotel, and she’s my employee.”

"I wonder if you’re equally concerned about your other employees?”

You grabbed Harry’s arm, “Harry, please, let’s just go.” You tugged at him as the curious gazes around you felt more pressing.

But seriously, he wouldn’t even look at you.

What the fuck?

“I warn you. Stay away from her.”

“And if I don’t?”

Harry was fuming, and you gripped his arm tighter.

"Alan, cut it out!" you snapped at him. With all your strength, you pulled Harry toward the exit. “Let’s just get out of here. Everyone's staring at us.”

“Keep away from my girlfriend, Finnigan,” he warned, pointing his finger at him, his voice low and threatening.

“Did you bother to mention your family background to her? I’ll bet she’ll walk away the moment she finds out.”

That crossed the line for Harry. He grabbed Alan by the collar, his fury erupting. “You say one more word, and I'll make you regret it.”

Alan shot back with a smirk, “Ooh, I’m really scared, Castillo.”

You stepped between the two men and pushed them both apart with an assertive shove. “Enough! Just stop it!”

They turned to look at you, along with the doorman and a few others. “I don’t know what’s going on between you two, and frankly, I don’t care. But I’m not going to stand here and watch this nonsense,” you declared, pivoting on your heel and striding toward the exit.

Harry shot Alan a glare, pushed him aside, and quickly followed you outside. “Wait, please,” he said, reaching out to grab your wrist and turning you to face him. “Let me see your hand.”

You turned away from him. “Oh, now you’re concerned? I guess you were too busy bickering with Alan to notice.”

He sighed heavily. “I’m sorry, but when I saw he was touching you, it really ticked me off.” He examined your hand. “What exactly happened?”

“It’s just a little burn,” you replied with an exasperated huff.

But as you saw the worry on his face while he tended to your wound, your anger began to wane. “This is becoming really tiresome, Harry.”

He looked straight into your eyes. “What do you mean?”

“I want you to explain what’s going on between you and him. It clearly goes back a long way.”

He glanced at your hand again. “There’s nothing to explain.”

“Oh yeah? It certainly doesn’t look that way to me.”

He brought your hand to his lips, planting a gentle kiss over the bandage. “Baby, I promise I’ll tell you everything later, but right now, we really need to go. Come on,” he said, taking your other hand and leading you to the car.

Harry stood behind you in the softly lit dressing room, carefully helping you zip up your dress. The fabric clung to you perfectly, and as you turned to admire yourself in the mirror, you felt a rush of excitement. He stepped closer, his presence both calming and electrifying. He gently brushed your hair back, a tender gesture that made your heart flutter. He fastened a delicate pearl necklace around your neck, the cool beads contrasting with the warmth of his kiss on your cheek. “You look absolutely stunning, darling,” he whispered, his lips brushing tantalizingly against your shoulder. His gaze locked onto your reflection, and he frowned slightly. “Are you nervous?”

“A little,” you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper.

He placed his hands on your shoulders, his thumbs gently caressing your skin, sending shivers down your spine. “This is our first formal event as a couple, and there will be many more to come, so you might as well get used to it." His lips brushed against your ear as he spoke. “Maybe someday you’ll be attending as Mrs. Castillo?” He grinned at your reflection.

You turned to him, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I would love that."

With a grin broadening across his face, he leaned in for a kiss that ignited a fire within you, passionate and consuming. His strong hands slid from your waist down to your hips, pulling you against him, trapping you between his body and the wardrobe door.

You pulled back, gasping for air, your heart racing. “Harry, we really should stop, or we won’t make it to the reception at all.”

He chuckled, his laughter rich. “Right,” he said, reluctantly releasing you and stepping back.

“It’s a good thing my lipstick is waterproof,” you joked, shooting him a playful smirk.

He licked his lips. “I loved the taste.”

“Strawberry,” you said, linking your arm through his.

“Mmm, that's nice,” he replied, amusement dancing in his eyes. “But nothing beats your own taste; you’re ever so much more delicious.”

You covered his lips with your hand, giggling softly. “Shut… up,” you whispered, feeling your cheeks heat up. “You’re about to get me dangerously wet, ol' man.”

He kissed your palm before gently removing it from his mouth. “So, we’ll continue where we left off later?”

“Deal,” you giggled once more.

Before leaving the room together, he wrapped an arm around your shoulders and whispered in your ear, “Can’t fuckin' wait, baby.”

“Everyone's staring at me,” you murmured, feeling your heartbeat quicken as you stepped into the hall where the event was taking place, with Harry right beside you.

“Of course they are; you’re the most beautiful woman here,” he whispered in your ear. It was sweet, but it didn’t do much to calm your nerves.

The room buzzed with chatter, the light baroque music playing softly in the background, glasses clinking, and the upper crust exchanging eye rolls. Harry was right—it was a scene you’d have to get used to being with him.

But it was a struggle...

As you and Harry made your way to the center of the hall, heads turned and eyes lingered on you. Some of Harry's friends approached, chatting you up. Harry beamed with pride as he introduced you, one hand gently tracing your back, warmed by the exposed skin of your dress. His touch calmed you, reminding you of his presence. You couldn’t keep your eyes off him as he spoke earnestly to the others; he looked so handsome and charming in his suit. You could feel the jealousy of the other women in the room directed at you.

“Where could Maria be?” Harry murmured, his eyes darting through the crowd.

She said she was coming, you thought, almost speaking out loud before recalling that you had to keep quiet about seeing her at the hotel earlier. Just then, a familiar face approached—his friend from the last wedding, the groom himself.

“How’s it going, man?” Harry greeted him with a hug.

“Hey Harry,” he replied with a smile, then turned to you. “Aren't you the waitress from my wedding?”

“Yes,” you replied, feeling a bit embarrassed.

“I owe you one. I heard from Lucas that you saved the wedding cake. Harry, you’re lucky to have such a diligent, versatil girlfriend,” he laughed heartily.

Harry turned to you, “I really am.”

Your cheeks flushed with warmth at his words.

“So, are you a chef or something since you're so talented?” he asked.

“Kind of. I'm doing an internship to become a pastry chef right now,” you said with a smile.

“That’s awesome. I bet you make some really tasty scones.”

“She totally does. They all taste amazing; you wouldn't even believe it,” Harry added with a proud smile. “My amazing girlfriend will have her certificate soon and plans to open her own shop.” He gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze, and you smiled shyly.

Suddenly, a figure caught your eye—someone famous. Excitement surged through you as you recognized him. “It’s Sebastien Loeb, oh my God!” You turned to Harry, “Can I meet him, please?”

Harry squinted in that direction. “He’s a rally driver, right?”

“Yes! Nine-time WRC champion. His iconic car: The Citroën Xsara, but I can’t decide between the C4 and the DS3. I have to ask him how he aced that course in his last race.” You started moving toward him, leaving Harry momentarily behind.

His friend, clearly impressed, leaned in close to Harry. “She makes great desserts, watches rally racing, and knows about cars? Harry, you'd better marry her.”

Harry chuckled. “I absolutely will.” He winked at him before maneuvering through the crowd to catch up.

“Hello,” you greeted when you reached Sebastien.

“Hello there,” he replied, offering a friendly handshake. You gave it a squeeze. Just then, Harry showed up behind you, and he and Sebastien did the handshake thing too.

“I’m a huge fan, Mr. Loeb. It’s too bad you’re no longer racing. We need more talent like yours,” you said admiringly.

Sebastien laughed shyly. “I was surprised to see a lady watching the races; I’ve been surrounded by men all night,” he said, glancing at Harry, who smiled but seemed a bit uneasy. “May I ask what your favorite race is, ma’am?”

“Rally de France, bitche 2—your 60th victory and 7th championship, of course. What an incredible finish, passing Dani Sordo at the last moment. Racing in all that mud must’ve been challenging.”

“It certainly was; it was a memorable yet tough rally—I’ll never forget it,” he leaned in closer. “Between you and me, that race is my favorite too,” he said with a wink.

"What was your setup at that race btw?"

He rasied his eyebrows in surprise but continued. "Well for the alignment (Rear) Camber Angle -1.00 °. And brakes, force was 3030 Nm. And gear..."

"6th I presume?"

"Exactly."

"Perfect."

"Wow, I've never encountered a woman so enthusiastic to learn about car setup," he laughed.

You couldn’t help but giggle.

Harry forced a smile, but inside, he was drowning in jealousy.

Was Sebastien flirting with you?

“Darling,” he said, pulling you closer. “How about we grab a drink over there? I’m sure Mr. Loeb has plenty of people to chat with, right?”

Sebastien nodded. "Meeting a woman who knows so much about cars and is genuinely excited about them is a rare treat. You’re quite fortunate, Mr. Castillo."

Harry's grip on you tightened. “Absolutely—it’s fantastic to have such a unique woman. You can’t imagine how special she is to me."

You sensed the rising tension and extended your hand to Sebastien. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Mr. Loeb. You’re a legend and always will be,” you said, shaking his hand again, but Harry was pulling you back toward him.

“The honor is all mine. Just call me Sebastien next time we meet, and I really hope it’s soon.” He gave your hand a friendly shake.

“All right, Sebastien,” you replied, waving goodbye.

As some guys walked up to him, you turned to Harry while Sebastien was still chatting with them. “What's up with you, ol' man?” you asked.

“Are you seriously just going to talk to him all night?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you’re getting jealous.”

He shrugged and grabbed a couple of champagne glasses from a tray held by a waiter. “I'm not.”

You took the glass he handed you. “Harry, he’s a 52-year-old married guy with a kid.”

“Good,” he replied, looking away while taking a sip.

You laughed, took a sip yourself, "I can't believe it." Then leaned in a bit closer, your fingers lightly brushing his collar. “You know... That’s actually kind of hot,” you said playfully, giving him a flirty look.

Harry met your gaze. “If you keep looking at me like that, baby, I might just scoop you up and dash out of here without caring who’s watching.”

You chuckled playfully and leaned in closer to him, bringing your lips near his ear. "And if you keep talking like that, mister, I'll get so wet I'll might have to take my panties off."

He swallowed, and you grinned at his look. "Fuck," he said quietly, realizing he was becoming hard. When you noticed what was going on, you put your hand to your lips and giggled. "Oops I didn't mean that."

"Naughty kitty," he said, laughing. "I have to punish you when we get home."

You playfully brushed against him with your thigh, a teasing smile on your lips. "Hmm, I can’t help but wonder what kind of punishment you have in store ol' man."

He reached back and squeezed the part of you that was touching him, his voice low and sultry. "I’ll be thinking about that all night long, baby." He followed up with a lingering kiss on your cheek, sending your heart racing.

Fortunately, people began to approach, chatting and mingling, which helped ease the sexual tension between you and him a bit.

Melanie and her mom made their way over, and even though you tried to tune them out, they invited you to join them. You decided to go along while Harry caught up with some friends for business. Still, even from a distance, you and Harry exchanged smiles and playful winks, the sparks between you never quite fading.

Melanie's mother, as usual, didn’t hold back in her uncouth and disrespectful manner, leaving your pride wounded as she continuously pointed out that, among other women, you worked as a housekeeper in her home. After excusing yourself, you stepped into the women's restroom, glanced at your reflection in the mirror, sighed deeply, and muttered to yourself that you had seen this coming, reminding yourself to stay calm. This was simply how the world worked, and it always would be; nothing truly mattered as long as Harry was by your side. Yet, your pride still stung—after all, there was no shame in earning a living through hard work.

Did they truly build their fortunes through their own hard work and determination?

Nope.

Some got lucky by being born into rich families, while others just married someone wealthy.

Those ruthless bitches.

Just then, the last person you'd hoped to see approached the sink next to you—Lucy. She turned on the faucet and caught your eye in the mirror, her expression a mix of complexity and calm. “You must be having a tough time,” she said while washing her hands.

“Excuse me?” You refused to meet her gaze as you dried your hands off.

“Those women—they're all about high society, luxury cars, opulent homes, and designer clothes. Their conversations make it feel like you come from a different world, right? It must be hard for you. Even though you dress like them, you don’t quite fit in,” she remarked, glancing at your dress and necklace while opting to dry her hands with a paper towel.

“Nothing changes with what you wear or where you live; it all comes down to who you are. If your heart is in the wrong place, you can drape yourself in the most beautiful outfits and still be ugly inside.”

She let out a laugh, one filled with disbelief. “You can preach all you like, but that doesn’t change reality.”

“I’d rather hold onto the truth I believe in,” you replied.

“There you are!”

You both turned to Melanie’s voice. She was glaring at Lucy, fury radiating from her. “You little snake! Did you think I wouldn’t find out?”

“Melanie, what are you doing?” you interjected.

Ignoring you, she zeroed in on Lucy. “This bitch is trying to set Nate up on a date. What is it? ‘Perfect match’? Now I'm going to make your face perfect match with my palm!” she shouted as she lunged at her.

You quickly grabbed her arm.

“Are you out of your mind? Your parents are right here! You need to snap out of it. Whatever issues you have with her, just try to talk it out.” You attempted to calm her, but she remained agitated.

Lucy quickly shook off her shock. “I’m just doing my job, helping my client, Miss Johnson,” she explained.

“Really? He’s my boyfriend, you bitch! Do you honestly believe he wants to marry? He’s just looking for a hookup!”

Well she had a point, it was Nate after all.

Lucy tucked her purse under her arm and glanced back at her before stepping out of the restroom. “I don’t know; he seemed sincere to me. Besides, he’ll definitely want to get married when he meets the right match I’ve found for him. I’m confident in my skills,” she said with a smug smile.

"You bitch!" she barked.

You grabbed her again but she was hard to restrain.

"Don’t yell! People will hear you. Do you really want to make a scene?"

She looked at you and asked, "Why are you covering for her?"

"I’m just looking out for you and your family. I don’t want you to embarrass your dad."

"Right. That girl you're defending was just talking to your boyfriend."

You stopped and pulled your hands away as she laughed, adjusting her dress. "Oops, huh? I heard they used to date. You’re mad at her, aren’t you?"

"There has to be a reasonable explanation," you insisted, though your frustration was hard to hide. "Keep on being reasonable, polyanna, but I'm gonna kick her ass," she said it and took off after her.

“Melanie! You really…” you called out, chasing after her.

Despite all your efforts, Melanie, as immature as ever, lunged at Lucy from behind, grabbed her hair, and yelled, acting like a cheap prostitute. At that moment, everyone turned to look at Jack and his wife. Anger, annoyance, and frustration were etched on his face, matched by the condemnation in the gazes of those around them. He didn’t deserve this.

Just as you were about to intervene with Melanie, a hand grasped your arm and pulled you back.

“Stay out of this; let her parents handle her,” Harry said, his voice as firm as his gaze. But it softened when he turned to you. "I think the night is over. How about we head out now?"

You looked at him and nodded. “Yeah,” you agreed. He wrapped his arm around your waist as you walked together toward the exit, but your eyes were still on Jack, Melanie, and her mother.

The people who had been focused on them were now absorbed in their drama, and you couldn't help but feel a little sad for them.

As the driver took you to Harry's house, a comfortable silence filled the car, even though your hands were intertwined. You were about to break the quiet and ask him about his conversation with Lucy when he turned to you at the same moment, both of you beginning to speak simultaneously.

"Lucy—"

"Why—"

You both chuckled at your coincidental timing.

"You go first."

"No, you tell me first," he replied, flashing a smile.

"Alright, I was curious about what you and Lucy talked about," you said, pressing your lips together, pressing your lips together, feeling a mix of nervousness and curiosity.

"Actually, that’s what I was gonna say."

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Is that so?"

‘Look, I generally brush her off in situations like this, but this time, it was about you, and I let her speak.’

"What did Lucy say about me?"

"She said there was something going on between you and Alan, and that it was messing with their relationship." He looked at you, his face serious.

"Harry, I—" You tried to argue, but he interrupted you with a gentle touch to your hair. "I know you wouldn’t do anything like that, and I get that he’s got this weird interest in you, but I really wish you would’ve said something."

"Harry, there’s nothing to say. He’s my boss, and I’m just putting up with it until I leave his hotel—nothing more."

"What do you mean, 'putting up with it'?"

Oops, wrong choice of words.

Damn it.

"So until my internship is over—"

"Did he say something inappropriate to you?" His tone turned angry.

You took his hands in both of yours, "No, don't worry, it’s nothing like that."

He seemed to search your eyes for the truth, remained unconvinced.

“But it’s not fair.”

"What’s not fair?"

"You want me to spill my secrets while you keep yours hidden. You said you're gonna tell me everything between you and Alan."

He let out a deep sigh. "You’re right. Alright, then I’ll share. Our families have known each other for a long time—our fathers were good friends until some tension grew between them." His expression shifted, as if he dreaded what he was about to reveal. "His father had feelings for... my mother, or at least that’s what my mother has said. She doesn't want to talk about it much. My father passed away when I was ten, so I never learned the whole story from him and I'm not sure about the details."

"Alan’s father had feelings for your mother? Was he married at that time?"

"Yeah, I was six—I have only faint memories of his father, and Alan was around my age."

"Well, that certainly clears things up."

"Every time we crossed paths at family gatherings, events... whatever they were, there was this fragile veneer of civility, yet beneath it, the tension simmered, thick and palpable. The gossip—my mother weathered so much of it. That’s why she hasn't stepped outside since my father passed. And since..." His voice quivered, breaking as shadows of the past lingered in his eyes.

In that moment, your heart ached for him. "Since what, Harry?"

He released a long, shaky sigh as if trying to exhale his sorrow. "Since my sister's death."

Your eyes widened in disbelief, a chill running through you. "Harry, I... I don’t know what to say. I’m so sorry."

He looked fragile, a storm of emotions battling just beneath the surface, and without thinking, you slid closer, wrapping your arms around him, offering solace. He bowed his head, pressing a tender kiss to the top of your hair, grounding you both in that moment. "It’s alright, baby. I was young; it’s been a long time." His fingers grazed through your hair, a comforting gesture, before he lifted your chin to meet his gaze. A faint smile broke through the sorrow. "I should take you to meet my mother. She can’t leave the house, but we can go see her."

You froze, feeling a rush of tension. "Don’t you think it’s too soon?"

He caressed your cheek with his knuckles. "Too soon for you, perhaps, but late for me. I’m an old man remember? I don’t want to miss a single moment with you, darling. We should embrace everything life has to offer, fast and fully as a couple.” His voice lowered to a whisper in your ear, filled with sincerity, before he leaned down, capturing your lips with a soft kiss. "You’re my everything.”

The week flew by, and at last, Chef Bruno announced that you would be able to wrap up your internship the following week. A wave of relief washed over you—not only would you finally be free from the daily trek to the hotel for work, but you also hadn’t seen Alan in days.

Now, the focus shifted to working hard until the fair, where you planned to build your brand by creating original desserts and baked goods to showcase. Thankfully, your billionaire boyfriend Harry had a spacious kitchen that you could use. Since you were planning to move in with him anyway—especially after Zoe and John's relationship sped up your decision—the transition felt exciting.

The day you left home with your suitcase to move into Harry's penthouse could easily have been the happiest day of your life. Both of you seemed thrilled that your relationship had reached this milestone, and everything was going smoothly.

Throughout the week, while Harry was at work, you were busy at home, baking as many desserts and pastries as possible. When he returned, he devoured them all and offered his critiques.

On the weekend, you realized you were low on supplies and had to hit up the supermarket for a big grocery run. Harry stepped in to help, and you both went to the mall together, like a married couple.

He also mentioned that he wanted to try baking cupcakes for the first time, which you found cute and encouraged him to do. While you were busy whipping up the cream, the oven timer chimed. Harry slipped on his oven mitts and carefully pulled a tray of cupcakes out of the oven. “Here’s my first solo batch,” he said with a proud smile.

As you looked at the cupcakes, you noticed they were a bit too light in color. “Hmm, babe, don’t you think they look a little undercooked? They probably need more time in the oven,” you suggested.

Dipping your finger into one of the cupcakes, you lifted it up to find the batter still runny. Licking your fingertip, you joked, “Here’s a little advice: if it’s still runny, it’s not a cupcake; it’s a beverage.” With a chuckle, you returned to whipping the cream on the counter.

“Alright, I’ll pop these ‘runny’ amigos back in the oven,” Harry said, putting the tray back.

“And please increase the time,” you said without looking at him.

But he couldn't help but gaze at you from behind, admiring how you looked while cooking. Out of the blue, he wrapped his arms around you and showered your cheek and neck with quick, playful kisses.

“Harry, stop! You’re going to make me spill the cream. What are you doing?”

He gently swept your hair to one side, revealing your shoulder, and you felt his lips caress your skin. “I can’t resist; you look stunning, whipping up delicious treats in my kitchen, like you're already my wife,” he murmured softly, making you giggle.

His hand slid up your thighs beneath your skirt, lingering just above your hem. "Do you have any idea how hard it is for me to keep my hands to myself when you’re wearing that dress?"

Your heart began to race. "Harry..." you murmured.

He lifted the hem of your dress and pressed himself against you. You gasped as you felt how hard he was. You almost dropped the cream container.

He suddenly wrapped his arms around your waist, spun you around, and lifted you onto the counter. Before you could even process what was happening, he pressed his lips against yours. What started as a sweet kiss quickly turned into something much more passionate, and without thinking, you instinctively draped your arms around his neck, spreading your legs for him. He leaned in closer, drawing you to the edge of the counter. One hand rested on your hips while the other gently traced its way along your thighs. He let out a soft moan as you wrapped your legs around his waist, his clothed cock teasing you in a delightful way.

Now you were as eager as he was, consumed with a sudden desire.

What a beautiful persuasion, what a beautiful surrender.

"All right," you said, breaking the kiss with difficulty. "But let's hurry, there are lots of cupcakes and desserts to make." you said as you tried to take off your kitchen apron, but his fingers had already reached behind you and untied the apron string.

"We've got 15 minutes."

His hands reached under the skirt cupping your ass, picked you up, then turned you around, reset the timer, and turned the heat down a bit. "Make it 30," he said with a smirk

You raised one eyebrow, "Slow cooking... Hmm, that could totally be a new way to get a better crust. I can’t wait to try these."

"Me too but first, I want to relish on that sweet pussy of yours," he said kissing you again, sending delightful shivers through your spine.

His words were enough to turn you on.

It was hot... so damn hot..

With that, he carried you in his arms to the bedroom, taking your panties off and throwing them only-god-knows-where on his way.

Your moans and giggles echoing around the hall.

“Now, get ready guys… here comes the red velvet cake—the angel on the outside, the devil on the inside.” You proudly presented your dessert to everyone gathered around Harry's large table in the dining room, where Maria, Mia, Oliver, Zoe, John, and Harry were all eagerly tasting and voting on the treats you had whipped up throughout the evening.

Maria was the first to raise her hand. “I’m giving this dessert an 8, darling, I’m not a fan of the sweetness from the white chocolate.”

“I’ll try adding agave next time; I’d love for you to give it a shot,” you replied with a smile. “How about you all?”

Oliver chimed in, “I’d give it a 9.”

Zoe followed, saying, “I also give it a 9.”

"I think it’s a 9 for me too," John added, sharing a smile with Zoe.

You turned to Mia. “What about you sweetheart?”

“I think it’s a 9 as well,” Mia said.

All eyes shifted to Harry, waiting for his verdict. “I’m giving it a 10, it’s fantastic. Can we even go higher than that and give it an 11?” He grinned at you, and you laughed, leaning in to give him a quick kiss.

Maria rolled her eyes. “You’ve been giving everything a 10 that your girlfriend has made tonight. I’m not sure how objective you’re being.”

Shrugging, “But she did make everything amazing,” Harry said, lifting your hand and kissing it softly. “You’re going to shine at that fair, baby.”

"Yeah, I know you’ll do great," Zoe added supportively.

“Did you find the brand name?” Maria asked. “Mia and I put together a list for you, didn’t we bunnie?”

“Yeah, here it is,” Mia said, pulling out her tablet and setting it on the table. You quickly glanced at it.

“Wow, this is all fantastic, ladies. Good job, It's tough to choose, though.”

“Honey, we should probably get going,” Zoe said as she stood up.

You looked at her, “Okay, thanks for coming, guys,” as you hugged both her and John.

“Good luck at the fair,” John smiled at you.

“Thank you John."

“Good night, everyone! See ya,” Zoe called as the others waved goodbye.

“See you later,” Harry said as you followed them towards the door.

“Thanks for being cool about John coming along,” you said to Harry as they stepped into the lift.

“When I say ‘let me into your world,’ I mean that John is part of it since he’s your cousin’s boyfriend. It’s all good. Besides, everything between us is just a minor blip from the past,” he said.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and sighed, “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, mi amor,” he said softly, pulling you close and kissing you.

Just then, a throat clearing interrupted the moment. You both pulled back and turned to see Maria standing there, her phone in hand.

“Harry, you need to see this,” she said, handing him her mobile.

The smile faded from Harry’s face as he glanced at the screen before returning it to her.

“What happened?” you asked, feeling a knot of worry forming.

“Alan…” he mumbled.

“His mother has passed away,” Maria added.

Silence hung in the air as you studied Harry. “Are you going to the funeral?”

“No, it wouldn’t feel right for me to go,” he replied.

You gently touched his arm. “But you’re not responsible for what happened in the past, Harry. Besides, it’s a funeral.”

“Still, I don’t think I’d want to see him if I were him,” he said.

“Harry is right, I’ll go,” Maria suggested.

Sensing an undertone in Maria’s voice that left you uneasy. She was somehow keeping something from Harry about her conversation with Alan earlier that day, and it made you feel uneasy.

Finally, the day you had eagerly anticipated arrived. It was the end of your internship, and Chef Bruno was set to hand you the letter for your certification. Harry had been called away from the company early that day, so you decided to go on your own.

The walk wasn’t far anyway.

Upon entering the hotel lobby, you were taken aback by the sight of a crowd gathered there. You recognized the doorman and approached him. “What’s going on? Why is everyone gathered here?”

“Mr. Finnegan,” he replied, his voice laced with distress. “He’s declared that no one can enter the bar or dining room, and the customers are absolutely furious.”

“Is he okay?” you asked, remembering he had just lost his mother. You understood the pain of loss all too well.

“Honestly, I've worked here for 20 years, and I’ve never seen him like this before,” the doorman replied.

“Is Bruno around?”

“Not yet.”

“Alright, I’ll wait in the kitchen, thanks.”

As you made your way toward the kitchen, murmurs of anxiety rippled through the air, the tension palpable. You pulled out your mobile phone, scrolled through your contacts for Bruno’s name, and pressed call. As it rang, you took off your coat, draping it casually over a chair, while casting glances at the other waiters, whose faces mirrored the stark worry that filled the room. They were nervous about Alan, how he had secluded himself in the dining room for hours, demanding solitude. When Bruno called to say he would be late, your anxiety heightened.

What a last day at the hotel!

It was supposed to be a celebration in the air, but instead, there was worry, sadness, and frustration.

You started to feel bored waiting in the kitchen with the other waiters. You decided to glance through the door to the dining room, and it shocked you. Alan sat at a table, his clothes disheveled, hair in disarray, and clearly upset. Despite your previous feelings toward him—you clearly didn't like him—a wave of pity washed over you.

Marvelous.

After a while, he called out to the waiters, who exchanged worried glances. No one seemed brave enough to approach him in his current state.

You made a decision that you suspected you might regret later. “I’ll go,” you said, trying to reassure them while putting yourself in a highly tense situation.

As you stepped into the dining room and walked toward his table, he didn’t look up initially, but once you stood beside him, his gaze met yours, surprise evident on his face.

“I’m really sorry for your loss,” you said softly, barely above a whisper but sincerely.

You felt uncomfortable under his intense stare and quickly looked away.

“Please, sit down,” he urged, almost pleadingly.

Usually, you wouldn’t have done so—after all, he wasn’t your boss anymore. But given his distress, you took a seat.

“Alan, you really need to gather yourself,” you said coolly.

He nodded. “Yeah, I’ll be alright soon. Don’t worry.”

“Not that I’m worried, but your actions are really causing a stir among the customers, and the staff are starting to feel uneasy. And let's not even get started on the reporters hanging around."

“Do you really think I care about them? I’m done caring about anyone or anything,” he said, his tone stern as he focused on you. “Except you.”

You rolled your eyes. “Please, don’t start that again.”

“Oh, honey, I haven’t even begun yet, trust me.”

Your arms crossed defensively. “What in the world are you talking about?”

He leaned in closer, his face getting serious. “Just end things with Harry.”

What the fuck?

What on earth was he saying?

“Alan, I think you should—”

“You won’t? Fine. Then I’ll ruin him.”

Your eyes widened in shock as you tried to comprehend his words. “What are you even talking about?”

“My mother died because of his mother.”

“Harry isn’t to blame. This is something that happened ages ago.”

“My mother fought cancer for years; she couldn’t cope with my father’s betrayal. She meant everything to me. Now I’ve lost my mother, my all, and he will lose everything too.”

You stood up abruptly. “Look, you’re clearly too upset and possibly drunk to understand what you’re saying.”

“No, I’m completely clear-headed. I’ve waited years, held back by my mother’s presence, but that’s over now.” He rose, taking a step toward you. “I’m going to make the Castillo family pay for what they did to mine.”

Anger bubbled within you; this was too much. “Alan, snap out of it. You aren’t solving anything this way. I get your pain, but this is excessive.”

He laughed hysterically. “Excessive? Is that what you think?” Then he grabbed your shoulders. “Do you have any idea what it’s been like to watch my mother suffer in the hospital for all those years?” he shouted, startling you.

Just then, Bruno entered the dining room. "Mr. Finnegan."

“I’ll be there in a minute,” you said nervously.

Bruno took in the situation with a disapproving look but nodded and returned to the kitchen.

But Alan wouldn’t let you go, gripping your wrist tightly. “Let go of my arm, now,” you said through gritted teeth.

Instead of releasing you, he tightened his hold and leaned in close to your ear. “Don’t forget, every moment you choose to stay with him only brings more trouble for him. I’ll make sure of that.”

You jerked your arm free from his grasp. “Your eyes are clouded with anger. You’re not thinking clearly. I love Harry, and nothing will come between us. I'm not leaving him, no matter what you do, understand?”

A wicked smile crept onto his face. “Oh, I wouldn’t be so confident, honey. You have no clue what I’m capable of.”

“Do your worst,” you shot back.

“I will,” he replied ominously.

You couldn’t despise him more at that moment.

Throwing him a disgusted look, you turned away and strode out of the room with quick, determined steps.

Yet, deep down, an unsettling worry clung to you like a shadow, gnawing incessantly at your thoughts about Harry and his family.

After you left, Alan took his cell phone out of his pocket and called someone. “Start foreclosure proceedings.” After hanging up, he let out a soft, almost sinister chuckle to himself.

“You’ll have no choice but to come to me, sweetheart.”

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asxgard · 1 month ago

Text

Semper Fi | [5/8]

Dr. Jack Abbot x f!doctor!reader

Previous | Next

Summary: Honesty. Feelings. A mass casualty that makes you question your outlook. And Jack. Always Jack.

[ Series Masterlist ]

Note: Thank you all for the likes, comments and reblogs!! Y’all are so nice🥹💜

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: age gap, ANGST, foul language, past sexual harassment, is this love? baby don’t hurt me, hospital setting, medical inaccuracies, school (campus) shooting/injury & death, moral “argument”, canon-typical gore, gun violence, I get mildly preachy about guns, hurt/comfort

not beta read

“You once asked me why I left New York…”

If you didn’t have his attention before, you certainly had it now. He sat relaxed on the couch, one leg propped up on the coffee table, his prosthetic sitting beside him. The worn out medical journal moved to his lap, his eyes moving to you.

You moved further into the living room and sat down on the other end of the couch, “It started not long after I completed my fellowship. New attending, well liked and good at his job. Despite completing my residency there, it felt like an upward battle. He was harassing me. It started small, innocuous, but he got bolder. Started grabbing me in the halls, or trying to corner me in the parking garage, or said lewd things in the staff lounge.” You cleared your throat and looked down at your hands. “I reported him, tried switching shifts, but he was always there. HR said I didn’t have evidence against him, and the board wouldn’t terminate him without cause. I was able to deal with it for a few months, but it got worse.”

You noticed one of Jack’s hands had curled into a white knuckled fist.

“Galloway got the nursing union involved, as some nurses had made some similar complaints. Well, the board paid attention to that, but he said we were harassing him. I found out later that he was the son of one of the donors, so it was all pointless. They told me I could quit or be fired, and Galloway had to retire. It was a boys club, I can’t say I’m surprised.” You shrugged, looking away from him. “So I took the first job out of there.”

The silence that settled felt deafening. It crawled up your spine and rattled your bones. You had never told anyone about Dr. Tate — not your friends, or your family. You just wanted to forget all about it, bury it deep in the past and move on. Pittsburgh had been a fresh start in more ways than one.

Jack moved toward you, grabbing your hand in his and squeezing.

“That never should have happened to you.” He said quietly, “I’m sorry.”

You wiped away your tears, “I don’t know why—I guess I just wanted to tell you. You know, be honest. Open.”

He looked at you strangely, but not unkindly. It was an expression you could not read, not even after slowly peeling back his layers in the months that you had been intimate with each other. It felt oddly raw, that even with your sunny exterior, your insides felt shadowed.

“Thank you for telling me.” He reached out to pull you closer, and you obliged him. “Anything like that happens here and you come to me, yeah? I’ll take care of it.”

You had a vague notion of what he meant by taking care of it, but it settled you as you relaxed into his chest. You grabbed hold of the dog tags around his neck, running a finger over the engraving, finding it weirdly grounding.

A tiny weight lifted off your shoulders, finally speaking to what had happened with someone you cared about. It felt like the wound was finally ready to be stitched closed.

—

A quiet contentment moved in in the weeks that followed, and you felt lighter than you had in years. To not be judged so harshly on your optimistic outlook, even by someone grisled by their experiences — to not be seen as naive, or childish, felt like someone had finally seen you.

You found it funny that the person who saw you as you were was a thunderstorm made into a man — grey skies, flashes of light against rolling clouds of intensity, and a crack of something honest.

The ease of it all had made it easier to talk about what you two were, or wanted to be, officially.

“Would you want to be my girlfriend?” Jack asked over breakfast one morning.

You lit up like the sun, despite him being awkward about it. “I want to be yours, whatever that looks like.”

He blinked before a grin broke out across his face, looking back to his food.

The label felt elementary, as you felt you had grown into more, but it still filled you with excitement. To no longer dance around the inevitable, and instead relish in it.

“Do we have to tell HR now?”

“Fuck no.” He scoffed, “Less they know the better. As long as neither of our judgements get compromised, I see no reason to talk to them about it. But I might tell Robby,” He shrugged, sipping his coffee.

“Maybe I should put money on the bet, or get someone in on it to do it for me. Put a few grand down, split the profits.” You said with a smirk. “Though I feel like it was Robby who started it.”

“He’s never been subtle.” He chuckled, “And that feels like robbery.”

“Serves them right for betting on it.” You laughed.

—

The incident occured at the very start of your shift, a mass alert went out about a shooter at the local community college, interrupting a baseball game. Few casualties, but a lot of injured were being directed to PTMC. Your wide-eyed gaze caught Jack over the charge desk and you encouraged yourself to breathe.

Beds were emptied, non-critical patients diverted upstairs, while family medicine doctors came down to assist with the waiting room. It was a flurry of movement as the Pitt prepared for the worst. Jack moved with calculated efficiency, all military training and honed by years of experience.

“I want you to be primary in triage.” He said, handing you a belt with an array of slap bands. “You remember our last Mass Casualty meeting?”

You nodded sharply, having joined the night shift right before said meeting. You recounted each step in protocol in your head, before looking back at Jack, a harrowed looking overtaking your face.

“Is this going to be really bad?”

His eyes flickered between yours, “Early estimates have between roughly a dozen and two. It’s not going to be good.”

You frowned, a nausea rolling through your stomach. You took a deep breath to steady the churning, barely able to articulate how you were beginning to feel. This felt different to the everyday horrors you had seen, it felt more fragile and a lot more charged, and the thoughts swirling around in your head made you angry. That this would just be another day in America — but now it was in your city, your hospital.

Heat flooded your chest, cheeks flushing.

“Deep breath,” Jack said, reading your expression clearly. “I got you.”

You pushed all the other thoughts away, shoving them into boxes to unpack later, before nodding carefully at Jack, “Alright, let’s do this.”

“That’s my girl.”

It warmed something in your heart, dripping into your stomach — a fondness that had begun to pool into much more. Jack was incredibly grounding, moving to get you situated and giving your head a squeeze before he departed for his zone.

When the first ambulance arrived, you kicked yourself into high gear. Adrenaline pumped through your system, driven to assess as quickly as you could while still maintaining a level of care you were proud of. You remembered Jack’s words from months ago, about time costing lives. It was easy to not linger in triage, but it put your skills and efficiency to the test.

By the time the last ambulance was rolling in, your gown was covered in blood. You had a nurse help you change it before the ambulance door was opening, a S.W.A.T. officer exiting.

On the gurney, laid an early-to-mid twenties male with a GSW to the shoulder and abdomen. You started assessing before they were fully out of the ambulance, moving him into the emergency room, barking out orders.

You called for Shen to ensure no more were incoming, while you focused on the patient, running beside the gurney as you headed into Trauma-1. Jack was already working someone up beside you, but he immediately took notice to the S.W.A.T. following behind you.

“That’s him,” one S.W.A.T. man whispered to the officer beside him, just out of your peripheral.

You paused, looking down at the patient, realization dawning on you. Rosa, a night shift nurse, stalled beside you, hands going still for just a moment. Your breath got caught somewhere in your throat and despite the crashing vitals, you didn’t move.

“Two units, O neg. Prep intubation.” Jack’s voice cut through your haze.

You snapped back to it, catching Jack’s slight eyebrow raise in your direction. Your wince was subtle, but enough of an answer for him. Your hands shook as you prepped the intubation tray, moving to stand over the patient.

Jack met your gaze, and he situated himself beside you, and his hand brushing against your back was enough to steady you. You felt drawn to him like gravity, like the earth to the sun. His presence was solid, allowing you enough time to compartmentalize and refocus. You took a deep breath, leaning down to open the airway and intubate.

—

After noticing you had disappeared after they were back out of the trenches, he wandered up to the roof. Everyone had a breaking point, and unfortunately you had found yours, and worry ebbed through Jack’s guts.

When he reached the roof, he found you standing where he usually stood when a shift was too much. He watched as you leaned back against the safety railing, looking over the city, arms crossed.

“I get it.” was all you said, not turning to look at him.

He approached slowly, moving to stand just behind you, while still giving you space. He glanced at all the buildings with a heavy sigh, looking at you in the corner of his vision.

“You were excellent down there.” He told you.

“It never feels like enough.”

Jack let out a long sigh and rested his arms on the railing, leaning on it. He turned his head toward you slightly, taking in the lost look in your eyes, lips pulled into a frown.

“We do what we can. That’s all we can do.”

“You sound like me.” You said, though there seemed to be a hollowness to your voice, devoid of its normal radiance.

“Just telling you the truth.”

“I had to—we had to save him.” You said in a rushed whisper, your face scrunching up, tears slipping from your eyes. “How is that fair? I spent valuable time on the shooter…how did he deserve my time more than any of the others?”

Jack held your gaze, reaching out a hand to you, “It’s not our call. It’s our duty to save, protect the hive, that’s it. We don’t make that judgment call.”

“And that’s good enough for you?”

“No.” He said honestly. “But it needs to be. He was a coward. He’ll have his day in court now, answer for it.”

You huffed and looked away from him again, fiercely wiping away your tears. “Is it wrong to say he doesn’t deserve it?”

“No. It’s human.” He sighed, “We all hesitated.”

You stayed silent, features screwed up as tear tracks caught the evening light. You grabbed his outstretched hand and squeezed, looking down and taking in the details of his skin.

“Don’t let him take your humanity, or your kindness. He’s not worth it. You got into medicine to save, don’t let the outside morals screw with that. You did your job, saved a life. Saved countless lives just this week alone.”

“That sounds like something I would say.” You whispered, running your fingers over the lines in his palms. “Bright side, and all that.”

His lips quirked, “Someone has to be that for you, sometimes. I can be that right now.”

Your face remained as it was, confliction warring in your eyes.

He let out a long breath, “We can’t think about what people do once they leave here, or before they’ve come in. That’s not for us to take on. You did your job, that’s it. There was only one fatality tonight — twenty-two people are going to walk out of here. That matters.”

“Well, what about the next one? Might not be Pittsburgh, but it’ll be somewhere.” Your tone was flat, dejected.

He squeezed your hand and forced you to look at him, “We’re just worker bees doing what we can to protect the hive, just this one. Can only work one hive at a time. We could spiral all night, go back and forth over this, doesn’t change the fact that you did the right thing even if he didn’t deserve it. Don’t let someone’s rotten heart spoil yours, yeah?”

“You know, the more you go on about hives, the more I think you want to be a hobby beekeeper.” You said, cracking a tiny smile.

Jack’s lips mirrored yours. “There she is.”

You moved under the safety railing and into Jack’s awaiting arms.

“Thank you.” You said into his shoulder, holding him to you like he might disappear.

He kissed your forehead, “No thanks necessary, sweetheart. You’ve talked me off a ledge a time or two, only returning the favor.”

“You mean a lot to me.” You told him, high emotions making you particularly vulnerable, curling your fingers are his scrubs. “I’m glad I moved to Pittsburgh, found you. Better than what I wanted. You were exactly what I needed.”

A feeling swelled in his chest, his throat growing tight with emotion. It felt hard for him to articulate everything swirling around his heart. It was more than care, to be certain, but he found that more than that still scared him. He tightened his arms around you, kissing the side of your face.

The sun peeked through the clouds in his heart, the storm giving way to something equally as powerful. It felt a whole lot like love, adoration, respect, fear, all rolled into one complex ball. Words seemed to fail him, thinking none of the ones he thought of would be enough to explain the aching in his chest. Love.

He settled on, “I’m glad you found me too.”

[ Next ]

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Semper Fi taglist: @rosiepoise88 @stelliferousphoenix @fancyvoidtragedy @lauraneedstochill

Dr. Abbot taglist: @flyinglama @valhallavalkyrie9 @melancholyy-hill @travelingmypassion @yournerdmodziata @dark-twisted-and-mechanical-mind @sarah-the-bird-nerd @artsymaddie @partofthelouniverse @woodxtock @rachel2494

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All: @nixandtonic

it’s not me if there’s no angst lol

three parts to go + an epilogue!

#the pitt #dr jack abbot #jack abbot #jack abbot x reader #jack abbot x female reader #dr jack abbott #jack abbott #jack abbott x reader #the pitt x reader #asxgard writes #semper fi series

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russellsppttemplates · 4 months ago

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Bridging the Gap (Lando Norris)

A look into the Norris family summer vacation

Note: english is not my first language. It's been some time since I posted one of these, hopefully I still know how to do it 🥲 A lot of changes have been going on at my job and I've been trying to adjust to all of it without loosing my sanity! For those who are here and have stayed, thank you for being so patient and for staying - I hope this is good enough ✨️

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm not taking requests right now, so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to send them in but know that I don't know when I'll be able to get to them!

my masterlist

Cw: reader is 4 years older than Lando, media scrutiny

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog @hiireadstuff @c-losur3 @sltwins

The low hum of the television filled the cozy apartment as you and Lando sat on the sofa, nestled comfortably under a soft blanket as his hands absentmindedly traced patterns on your thigh. Lately, it was one of your favorite pastimes - catching up on a show after a long week and simply enjoying each other's presence without having the world around you.

Life with Lando was unexpectedly delightful. His infectious laughter and zest for life were contagious, and even the most mundane days seemed brighter with him around, no matter how many clients you had that day or how much reading you had to do before their next sessions. At the beginning, you couldn't wrap your head around how the way your routines still laced together despite the seemingly different responsibilities, but you cherished the balance you shared.

"Do you have a busy day tomorrow?", your boyfriend asked.

"I have 8 clients, as two of them already cancelled because they're sick, but I managed to adjust the schedule and hopefully I have some time to go to the bank and see about my mortgage payments", you said.

"And in that rearranged schedule, is there a possibility of you spending the night here so we can wake up together before you go be a boss lady?", he wondered as he nuzzled his face in the crook of your neck, softly kissing the skin there.

"I have to be in the office at before 10 am, Lan, I can't have a lie in", you reasoned.

"I have to be up at 7 am to go on a run with Jon, so neither can I", he smirked, knowing he had all the reasons to convince you to stay, "we can have some breakfast together before you leave me".

"I guess I have time to pop home, change and get to work on time", you reasoned, agreeing with his plans.

"I'm glad you think that because my next step was going to kidnap you for the night - I'm talking locking the doors and throwing away the keys", Lando spoke.

Your laughs rubbled as Lando squeezed you tighter against him, basking in the warm feeling on his chest of having you for the rest of the night.

A few weeks later, Lando told you Max and Pietra would be in Monaco for a week since they hadn't spent some time together in a while.

"Do you know how your week is going to be? In terms of your schedule I mean", Lando mused, holding your waist as you stirred the food in the pot.

"I had some people move around from their usual schedule, so the weekdays end late but I don't have many appointments on Friday and I have Saturday off", you spoke.

"That's good, means we can spend a nice long weekend together", Lando smiled, kissing your shoulder before resting his chin there, "I'm not sure of all the plans yet but it’ll be fun! And they’re eager to meet you", he grinned, optimism lighting up his face.

"I'm excited to meet them too", you spoke, despite the one looming shadow. The thought of meeting Lando’s close-knit circle always brought a tinge of anxiety with it. His friends were used to seeing him as the carefree poster child of single life - never missing a party or the chance to get a little drunk. Hell, the idea that Lando would rather stay in on a Friday night, watching his girlfriend cook them dinner after spending the afternoon waiting for her to finish her online sessions would baffle Max and all of his friends.

And though Lando never seemed to mind, the idea of them questioning your relationship because of your age gnawed at your insecurity. Even when you were younger, the party scene wasn't your thing and as the years passed, it certainly didn't become it. You were fine with Lando enjoying himself whenever he wanted to and never once objected to that, but feared that his friends would question it.

"There's something on your mind, I can tell that", Lando spoke softly, "would you like to share it with me?".

"It's just...", you tried, knowing he would be able to tell you were lying and knowing that sharing this with him could ease your fears.

"Doesn't have to sound pretty or polished, I just want to know what is on your head", he encouraged softly.

"Maybe they won't want to spend time with me? They're coming here to see you and spend time with you, and there's always the possibility that they might now want to spend time with me", you let it out.

"Why do you think that?", he continued softly.

"Because I'm not hard-core, adrenaline seeking fun!", you added.

"Lovie, the plans we have are just enough fun for everyone, I didn't to do anything too hard-core and they don't either, so we'll be good and have plenty of fun together, yeah?", Lando assured, turning you around and kissing your forehead.

"You are starting to have a way with words", you mumbled, enjoying the feeling of his lips on your skin in such a protective manner, like no harm in the world could get to you if he was near.

"I catch on a thing or two you say", your boyfriend mumbled, kissing your lips slowly.

"I have to take my lunch to the office tomorrow, I don't have time to come home", you mumbled more to yourself than anything, taking a tupperware box from the cupboards so you wouldn't end up without your packed lunch.

"Pack two of them and I'll meet you in the office", Lando said like it was nothing.

"Sorry, what?", you asked again, afraid you had misheard him.

"You can pack two of them to go and I'll meet you for lunch tomorrow so you don't eat lunch all alone", Lando suggested.

"You don't have to", you reasoned.

"I know I don't, but I want to", Lando smiled, "the next couple of days are going to be busy for me and I need to fill up on time with you so my heart won't miss you as much".

He was ever the charmer and you still blushed at his words, not used to this no matter how many times he did it.

"Fine, but you can't mess up the crayons this time! You left one of them on the floor and I saw my life flash before my eyes when I stepped on it and nearly fell! No funny business in my office!", you joked.

"Does that mean we can't play Jenga and talk about my feelings? How dare you do that to me, woman?", Lando dramatised.

The first night of the week Max and Pietra would be spending in Monaco arrived quickly, and while the full day of sessions certainly kept your mind away from all of it, you found yourself at the door of your boyfriend's apartment waiting for him to get it.

"Hello, beautiful", Lando greeted as soon as he saw you, kissing your lips before letting you in, "let me take these", he said as he grabbed your bag and your coat.

"Thank you, I'm sorry I'm a bit late but the last session ran a bit longer than I expexted", you apologised, smoothing over your jeans and checking how you looked in the mirror - after the day you had, you couldn't expect much but you were pleasantly surprised that your hair was still bouncy and forgoing makeup was probably a good idea because you would have smudged it by now.

"You look beautiful as always, Y/N", Lando grabbed your attention, "and don't worry, take out is late too so you don't need to feel bad", he assured, guiding you with him to the living room where the noise was coming from.

"Guys, this is Y/N", Lando announced as they both welcomed you warmly, quickly asking you questions and letting you join in, preparing a drink for you.

"I'm usually heavy handed, but this one is proper, Y/N", he offered you before you took a sip, "I can fix a different one though!".

"It's good, it's good - hits the spot very nicely", you smiled, taking another sip before engaging in conversation.

When the food arrived, Lando asked you to join him in the kitchen to help him plate everything up and bring it to the dining table, opting to use the door closest to it so it would be easier.

As you crossed rhe hallway, you overheard Max and Pietra talking.

“Do you think it works?”, Pietra asked, “I mean, they seem happy, but Lando’s… well, Lando".

Max shrugged, “He’s crazy about her. Age doesn’t matter, does it? But yeah, never thought he’d settle, at least not like this".

You felt a small knot form in your stomach, but before you could dwell on it, Lando appeared at your side, his familiar warmth instantly reassuring as he placed his hand on the small of your back, “You alright?” he asked, noticing the brief flicker of uncertainty in your eyes.

“Yeah", you smiled, deciding in that moment that the security you had together was worth navigating any doubts from others.

As the evening continued, you noticed Max and P exchanging skeptical glances across the table - they're were known for their protective nature over Lando, Max is his bestfriend, so they are particularly wary of anyone close to their beloved friend.

Over the clinking of silverware and hum of conversations, Max finally spoke up, his tone casual but inquisitive, "so, how’s it really going, being with a guy who practically lives on a racetrack?”.

You felt Lando's reassuring nudge beneath the table, prompting you to respond with honesty, "It's definitely something else. Racing is such a demanding world, but we find balance by making time for each other away from it all. So far, it has worked out well".

P leaned back, observing the dynamic between the you, "there must be a lot of pressure, especially with so many eyes watching your every move".

Lando chimed in before you could respond, "Y/N handles it like a champ. Honestly, she’s the calm in my storm", he said, his eyes filled with admiration for you. There wasn't a day that you didn't handle it gracefully, whether it was a fan wanting to take a photo or a reporter wanting to know more than you allowed.

Max and P exchanged another look, this time softer and less guarded - little by little, they began to see what Lando meant by his earlier assurance that you kept him grounded.

As dinner progressed, the conversation turned to shared stories, with Lando guiding the discussion to include moments from your relationship - your mutual love for travel, how you introduced him to the joy of quiet moments, and even shared a humorous tale of your early dates, laughter erupting when he recounted an incident involving mistaking your office with the one next to yours, Lando accidentally entering the lawyer's waiting room with a massive bouquet of flowers and passes to golf.

Max's initial skepticism gradually melted away as he watched you interact. Lando's attentiveness was unmistakable - how he would lean in to catch your words over the din of conversations, or how his eyes crinkled in genuine amusement at your stories. He noticed how effortless and natural your connection seemed, a seamless blend of companionship and partnership.

By the time dessert came around, Pietra seemed convinced, "Alright, alright. I can see what everyone’s been talking about. You both really seem to understand each other in a way that's rare".

"You say that like we don't!", Max complained.

"Shut it, Max, you know what I mean", she mumbled.

Feeling the warmth of acceptance flood the room, Lando laid his hand over yours on the table, grinning with relief and contentment, "Told you she was amazing,” he said, playfully raising his eyebrows.

Max chuckled, raising his glass, "Okay, I admit defeat, I'm not sure we are like this!".

It was in that moment that you realized, the whispers of doubt that had once lingered were no match for the clarity of Lando’s affection. Together, you were creating a narrative all your own, one that defied stereotypes and embraced your unique bond.

As the days passed after the gathering, the glow of being surrounded by Lando’s friends began to fade, replaced by the nagging unease that had settled in your mind. You found yourself replaying the conversations from that night, the laughter, the glances, and especially Max's comment, which you still couldn’t quite shake off despite the way the night ended.

One evening, after a long day at work, filled with sessions and schedule arrangements thanks to the flu season, you sat on the sofa, scrolling through social media.

Your heart sank as you stumbled upon a headline featuring Lando. The article speculated about his relationships and how he was often deemed the ultimate bachelor, writing that they believed he wasn't about to change his ways. The more you read, the harder it became to ignore your worries.

Later that night, Lando arrived from his photoshoot, his laughter echoing as he stepped through you door. He instantly brightened the room with his presence, but you struggled to muster so much as a smile.

“Hey! Long day?”, he asked, tilting his head slightly, concern etched across his features as he took a good look at you.

“Just tired", you replied with a half truth. As you settled down, you felt the weight of the unspoken words pressing on your chest, knowing that sooner or later they would find their way out.

“Is everything okay?”, Lando probed, sensing the shift in your mood. Even when you had a bad day, the reception he got wasn't like this.

You hesitated, your thoughts swirling, Do you ever think about what people say… about us?”.

Lando paused, confusion washing over his face, "What do you mean?”.

“I don’t know,” you sighed, looking down, "Like, the way the media talks about you. Or how your friends might see us. What if they don’t accept me? They might think I’m not right for you… for your image".

Lando’s expression shifted from confusion to concern, “Why would you think that?”.

“Because it’s true!”, you almost spat, frustration bubbling to the surface, "You’re this young, popular and successful Formula One driver, and I’m just… well, me. What if they think I’m just an older woman trying to latch onto your fame? What if they don’t see how happy we are?”.

“Stop it", he said gently, but firmly, “you’re not ‘just’ anything, or someone. You’re incredible, and I’m with you because I want to be. Age is just a number and it doesn’t define how meaningful our relationship is, not to me and it shouldn't be to anyone".

But your doubts resurfaced, relentless as you continued with your voice rising with each word, “But what if your family doesn’t feel the same? What if they think I’m not good enough for their sweet boy? I just… I can't help but overthink it. I love you, and I’m terrified of losing you".

Lando stepped closer, taking your hands in his and grounding you with his touch, something you explained to him early on that worked wonders for you, “I can’t control what others think, but my family will see how happy you make me. They care about my happiness, not just some number or date".

“But what if they don’t?”, you whispered, your voice trembling. Over the years, you could remember the times where you told patients exactly that, that their mind was looking for survival so that's where it took them.

“They will!", Lando stated, his grip tightening slightly, “Look, it’s not going to be like this forever. People talk, and yes, media can be ruthless, but what matters is how we feel about each other. And I feel lucky to have you in my life. Please trust that, my love".

You looked for reassurance in his eyes as slowly his words began to soothe the turmoil, but the fear was still there, lurking just beneath the surface.

“I just don’t want to complicate things for you", you said softly.

Lando brushed his fingers against your cheek, a gentle smile breaking through your anxiety, "you’re not complicating things. You’re adding to my life in a way I never knew I needed. Can we just take this one step at a time together?”.

Lando pulled you into a warm embrace, and for a moment, the weight on your heart lightened. Taking a deep breath, you reminded yourself to stay in the moment and be there.

“I’ll try", you finally spoke against his shoulder, feeling comfort in his unwavering support.

“I promise I'm not going anywhere", he whispered back, wrapping you tighter in his arms, "we’re in this together".

"Thank you", you mumbled, pecking his lips softly.

"You don't ever need to thank me, not for stuff like this or anything else, we're in this together, lovie", Lando kissed your forehead, "besides, if you ever dump me, I'll have to find a good psychologist to help me through it and you're the best one, so that's another valid point for us to stay together", he chuckled, wanting to get a giggle out of you.

Smiling when he succeeded, Lando squeezed you tighter against him, "never doubt that we were meant to be, Y/N, never".

#lando norris imagine #lando norris fanfic #lando norris x reader #lando norris fic #lando norris fluff #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 fluff #f1 fanfic

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emchante · 7 months ago

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kinktober | drowsy desires - m.v.

day 8 - sleepy sex | kinktober masterlist

summary: after an exhausting day, max arrives home late and slips into bed beside you. his touches stir something deeper within you, leading to a slow encounter under the covers.

WARNINGS: 18+ content, half-asleep sex. that's basically it.

w.c. 1.5k

a/n: last post for the week! this post feels rly weak, so sorry about that. having a hard time writing currently! next week will be the last week, so see you all then! let me know your thoughts via reblog, comment or ask, i love hearing from you guys.

the bedroom was quiet, the only light coming from the moon peeking through the half-closed curtains. the house was still, save for the occasional sound of the wind against the windows. you were halfway between sleep and wakefulness, floating in a pleasant haze when you felt the bed dip slightly beside you.

max had finally come home.

even in your drowsy state, you could sense the weight of his day clinging to him. the exhaustion radiated from every breath he took, each slow and deep as he slipped under the covers. he tried to be careful, not wanting to disturb you, but the moment his arm slipped around your waist, instinctively pulling you into him, your body stirred at his touch. his familiar warmth wrapped around you, and you sighed contentedly, nestling into him without opening your eyes.

max’s lips brushed your shoulder in a light, almost unconscious kiss. he was barely awake himself, just a tangle of weariness and longing, craving the comfort of being close to you. his fingers traced along your waist, drawing lazy, soothing circles on your skin. the movement was calming, lulling you both into a state of relaxed intimacy.

you turned in his arms, feeling the quiet pull of drowsiness still heavy in your limbs, and opened your eyes just enough to see the soft silhouette of his face. his eyes were half-lidded, the lines of fatigue etched clearly in his features. despite that, he gave you a small, sleepy smile, his hand coming up to cup your cheek.

“hi, schajte,” he whispered, voice gravelly from the day and from sleep. it was a murmur, barely audible above the rustle of sheets, but it felt like everything in the quiet of the night.

“hi maxie,” you whispered back, your voice a soft hum as your eyes fluttered closed again, lost in the warmth of his touch.

he leaned in, his lips brushing over yours in a gentle, lingering kiss. there was no urgency, no rush—just the simple need to feel you, to be close to you after a day that had kept him away. the kiss deepened gradually, max’s tongue brushing lightly against your bottom lip, tasting the softness there. you sighed into it, your body responding instinctively, shifting closer until your chests were pressed together, your legs tangling beneath the covers.

max’s hand slipped down from your cheek, his fingers trailing along the curve of your neck, tracing the line of your collarbone before resting at your waist. he held you like this for a moment, as if grounding himself in the feel of you, the familiarity of your body against his. it was as if touching you was the only thing he needed to unwind completely, to let go of the stress that still clung to him.

“missed you,” he mumbled softly, lips brushing your ear as he spoke. his words were heavy with sleep, almost slurred, but you felt their weight, their sincerity.

“i missed you too,” you whispered back, feeling the words drift into the darkness between you both. your hand slid over his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your palm.

max’s lips continued their gentle exploration, trailing featherlight kisses down the side of your neck, his breath warm against your skin. the touches were slow, almost absentminded, but they stirred something deeper within you, a quiet desire that simmered just beneath the surface. you shifted slightly, the movement instinctual, a silent invitation for more.

you felt the low hum of his voice against your skin as he sighed softly, his breath hot against your collarbone. max’s hand slid down your side, his fingers brushing over the curve of your hip before slipping beneath the hem of your shirt. his touch was warm and soothing, a gentle reminder of how much he craved this closeness after a long day.

he leaned down, his lips tracing a path along your shoulder, then lower, pressing lazy kisses to the bare skin he found beneath the fabric of your shirt. your breathing grew heavier, the quiet tension between you both thickening in the dimly lit room. you could feel his exhaustion mixing with his desire, creating a heady combination of soft need and overwhelming intimacy.

“max,” you whimpered, a hint of breathlessness in your voice, not needing to say anything more. he knew what you meant, what you were asking for without asking.

he shifted slightly, his hand sliding down to your thigh, lifting it to rest over his hip. the simple movement brought you closer, your bodies aligning naturally under the covers. max’s breathing was uneven, a soft exhale escaping him as he nestled his hips against yours, his arousal evident even in his drowsy state. it was a quiet, subtle acknowledgment of what you both wanted—needed—after the long day.

max’s lips found yours again, and this time the kiss was deeper, a little hungrier, but still slow and tender. you melted into him, sighing softly as your fingers threaded through his hair, holding him close. his hand slipped between your bodies, his fingers brushing over your core, and you let out a quiet gasp at the touch, the warmth of his skin against yours sending a shiver of anticipation through you.

he took his time, his fingers moving with a patient, deliberate rhythm, coaxing soft whimpers from your lips. you could feel the weight of sleep still heavy on your limbs, but it only made everything feel more intimate, more raw. there was no rush, no urgency—just the quiet connection between you both, built from the exhaustion of the day and the need to be close to each other.

max shifted slightly, his fingers guiding himself to you, and you held your breath, feeling the anticipation build. he pressed his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with yours as he slowly pushed into you, a quiet, shared exhale escaping both of you as he filled you completely. the sensation was almost overwhelming in its simplicity, the slow, steady rhythm he set making every nerve in your body come alive.

you sighed softly, your fingers tightening slightly in his hair as you arched into him, the movement instinctive, seeking more of that delicious closeness. max’s hand settled on your hip, holding you firmly as he moved with a gentle, deliberate rhythm, each thrust slow and deep. there was no rush, no urgency—just the steady, comforting connection between you both, the quiet intimacy that came from knowing each other so deeply.

the room was filled with the soft sounds of your breathing, the quiet rustle of sheets as max continued his slow, deliberate movements. you could feel the tension building within you, a slow, simmering heat that spread through your body with each gentle thrust. max’s forehead rested against yours, his eyes closed, his breaths coming out in soft, uneven huffs as he held you close, his body completely in tune with yours.

you were both half-lost in the haze of sleep, but the sensations were all-consuming, every touch and movement heightened by the drowsy intimacy between you. max’s hand slid up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip in a tender caress, and you turned your head slightly to kiss his palm, your breathing growing heavier as the pressure continued to build.

“feels so good,” he mumbled, his voice rough and barely audible, as if he was speaking more to himself than to you. the words sent a shiver down your spine, and you arched into him, needing more of that slow, steady connection.

the heat continued to build, slow and steady, until you could feel the tension starting to unravel, the pleasure washing over you in gentle waves. max groaned softly, his grip on your hip tightening as he felt you tighten around him, his movements becoming a little less controlled as he chased his own release.

with one final, deep thrust, you both fell apart together, the quiet intimacy of the moment making everything feel more intense, more real. max held you close, his breathing heavy and uneven as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, his body trembling slightly with the aftershocks.

for a long moment, neither of you moved, your bodies still tangled beneath the covers, your breathing slowly evening out as the exhaustion of the day finally caught up with you both. max pressed a lazy kiss to your shoulder, his arm wrapping around your waist to pull you closer, his touch grounding you in the lingering warmth of the moment.

“love you,” he murmured, his voice barely more than a breath. “so much.” you smiled sleepily, pressing a soft kiss to his temple. “love you too,” fell from your lips as you felt max squeeze you tighter.

and with that, the quiet rhythm of your breathing lulled you both back into a peaceful, shared sleep, wrapped in the warmth of each other’s embrace.

#em's fics #em's filth #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x female reader #max verstappen oneshot #max verstappen smut #max verstappen blurb #max verstappen fic #max verstappen imagine #f1 smut #f1 blurb #f1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #kinktober 2024

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hederasgarden · 9 months ago

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On the Horizon (2/?)

Summary: You've been pining over your coworker for a while now. He might not have realized but someone has. Pairing:Tyler Owens x F!Reader (with minor Scott x F!Reader) Word Count: 4.3K Rating: Mature, 18+ only. Angst and asshole!Scott who brings a side of gaslighting. Future chapters will be smutty. Not all themes are tagged. A/N: Thanks to @writercole for the summary and @ryebecca @mermaidxatxheart @clairewritesandrambles and @a-reader-and-a-writer for their beta help.

Please comment or reblog if you enjoyed this and want to see more. Or scream at me in my www inbox. That always makes my day.

Part 1 ♡ Masterlist

The sound of the rickety old air conditioning unit sputtering to life jolts you awake. You roll over with a groan, throwing an arm over your face to shield yourself from the sunlight trickling in through a gap in the curtains. It takes you a long moment to realize the other side of the bed is empty and cold. When you do, the remnants of sleep scatter, a wave of awareness washing over you.

You tuck your chin against your chest and pull the scratchy sheets closer to your naked body. The old clock on the bedside table stares back at you as you struggle to ignore the hollow ache in your stomach. You didn’t expect Scott to stay the night. Both of you knew it wouldn’t be smart, though it still stings, just like it did the first time. But that was Scott, you remind yourself, always thinking two steps ahead, anticipating and reacting. Whatever you two had needed to remain a secret. As he reminded you last night, when it came to sleeping with a coworker, people were always harsher on the woman. It was better this way. Wasn’t it?

You close your eyes and draw in a pained breath, catching the faint, musky scent of Scott’s cologne that still lingers in the sheets. The smell brings a rush of memories from the night before, vivid and overwhelming, like a sense memory that refuses to fade. The way his long, thick fingers curled inside you. The sound of his shuddering breath when he came.

Your phone buzzes, and you jerk upright, expecting or perhaps hoping to see Scott’s name. Instead, it's Andy letting you know he’s grabbing coffee for everyone. You thank him and, without giving yourself a chance to second-guess yourself, shoot off a message to Scott. You watch as the status changes from “Delivered,” to “Read at 7:22 AM.” You wait for a reply but minutes tick by without an answer.

Eventually, you force yourself out of bed and prepare for the day, but as you move through your routine, your mind keeps drifting back to the unanswered message. It’s after 8 a.m. by the time you leave the hotel room with your duffle bag in hand. Outside, the parking lot is full of other storm chasers who mill around quietly, their mood more subdued than last night.

You find Scott with a clipboard in hand, talking with Javi. He spares you a glance but doesn’t otherwise acknowledge you. It’s not personal, you remind yourself, feeling better when you remember you're both assigned to Scarecrow. You’ll have a chance to talk with him then without having to worry about anyone overhearing you.

On the way to the car, you catch up with Andy, looking dubiously at the greyish cup of gas station coffee he hands you. It's been weeks since you had a decent cup. You're half-busy lamenting the absence of Starbucks when a sharp whistle catches your attention. It's Tyler, and he’s giving you a curious look, raising his chin in Scott's direction.

You know what he's asking. You should give him a thumbs-up so he knows the ploy worked, but before you can a sharp, unexpected wave of shame crawls up your throat. Tyler wrinkles his brow, hands on his hips. When he takes a step forward you turn away without answering him. You head for your assigned car, only to stop abruptly when you see Peter, one of the meteorologists, sitting in the passenger seat with the door ajar.

“Morning. I think you might be in the wrong car,” you say.

“Hey,” Peter greets, looking up from his computer. “Scott changed the rotation. You’re riding with Javi. Didn’t he tell you?”

“Oh.” You stare at your coworker unblinking, for a long moment. It was probably an oversight. Scott was so busy. "O-of course he did, I must have forgotten," you lie, forcing yourself to chuckle. “Lack of sleep,” you explain.

“Tell me about it. These motel beds are killing my back.”

“For sure,” you agree, offering him a wave and promising to catch up with him later. The second you turn away, your eyes sting and you brush at them angrily. Why are you crying? It’s not even a big deal. You liked riding with Javi, everyone did even though he was the boss.

You head in the opposite direction of the others, unsure of where you’re going. All you know is that you need to move to dislodge the pressure in your chest. It’s only when you reach the edge of the motel’s property, standing at the boundary of the farm next door, that you finally stop. You drop your bag, sending up a small cloud of dust, and press a hand to your mouth as you stare across the field of knee-high corn. This was all so stupid, a childish overreaction. There’d be time to talk with Scott tonight again. You were getting upset over nothing.

You have only a few precious seconds to collect yourself before you hear footsteps approaching. Quickly, you scrub your hands over your eyes, trying to dry the tears as best as you can. It doesn’t matter who it is; you just don’t want to be seen like this.

“You know, sweetheart,” Tyler begins, his southern drawl softening the endearment, “I’m not used to chasing after a woman.”

He stops a few feet away, his gaze fixed steadily on the horizon. You watch him out of the corner of your eye, his cowboy hat shading his expression from view. He's not exactly who you want to talk to at the moment but it was better than someone from your team.

“Well," you start, clearing your throat to dislodge the unwanted emotion from your voice. "You’re welcome for the unique experience, I guess."

He turns to face you, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. You’ve amused him. “Well, don’t keep me in suspense,” he says, clearly waiting for you to elaborate.

You open your mouth but nothing comes out. Scott spent the night and that was what you wanted so why didn’t it feel that way?

“Ah, he shit the bed, huh?” Tyler asks, understandingly. Your nose wrinkles at the euphemism and this time he laughs. “Well, we can always try again tonight.”

You realize then that Tyler thinks nothing happened between you and Scott last night. You should set him straight, but instead, you find yourself saying, “You don’t even know where we’re going.”

“Come on now. We both know everyone here is heading up to Bartlesville. The conditions look promising.”

“What do you have planned to help me?”

Tyler tilts his cowboy hat up with a finger, stepping close enough that you find yourself beneath its brim. You look up at him and notice, for the first time, the dark stubble along his jaw and the dimples that appear when he smiles. You’ve always known he was handsome — everyone knew it, mostly because that was all Peter talked about after enough beers. But right now, it feels like you’re seeing Tyler Owens for the first time.

“You leave that up to me. Just be ready by 7 p.m. Wear that dress from last night.”

He steps away and you feel like you can breathe again. “Okay.” You agree.

“Okay?” he questions. “They don’t teach you manners up north?” He teases.

His comment catches you off guard and startles a genuine laugh from you, the first one you’ve had in a while, you realize. “Thank you,” you reply sincerely.

Just like last night, Tyler taps your nose playfully and steps back. “7 p.m.,” he reminds you before he turns and heads off.

You don’t even notice it until you’re back at the truck, but the pressure in your chest that’s been weighing on you all morning is gone.

–

Riding to Bartlesville with Javi isn’t half bad, he’s more than willing to share the endless supply of snacks he’s got stashed all over the vehicle. You rummage through the glovebox, pushing away a questionable-looking melted bar of chocolate for a package of Skittles.

“So, you gonna tell me what last night was all about?” He asks.

You freeze, anxiety skittering up your spine. Does he know about you and Scott?

“Javi, I —”

“Tyler Owens?” he presses. “I saw you with his crew last night, and Scott mentioned he was bothering you this morning.”

At the mention of Scott’s name, there’s a familiar, painful tug in your chest. You ignore it, just like you do with the knowledge that Scott saw you and Tyler together. You don’t want to think about him right now.

“Are you asking as my friend or as my boss?” You question, propping your foot on the dashboard and tossing a Skittle into your mouth.

“As your friend I want to make sure you’re being safe. And as your boss, I wanna know why you’re spending time with the competition,” he says. “Also, take your damn foot off the dash.”

You flash him a grin and place your other foot beside the first. Javi sighs in annoyance but extends his hand, waving his fingers expectantly. You sift through the bag and hand him the green Skittles. Despite the years that have passed from when he was a fresh-faced Corporal with a buzzcut and you were a civilian contractor feeling way out of your depth, you appreciate this part of your relationship remains unchanged.

“He was looking for some contouring tips.” You joke, earning another look. “He wanted to know where we were headed next,” you tell him, surprising yourself with how easy the lie comes to you.”Don’t worry, I told him we were going to Broken Bow.”

“He’s gonna meet us in Bartlesville, isn’t he?”

“Oh, absolutely,” you agree, rummaging through the Skittles bag to find another handful of green ones. “Does he really bother you that much?”

Javi shrugs, his expression thoughtful as he takes the Skittles from you. “He’s annoying and disruptive, but…not really, I guess. We’re still getting good data when he isn’t shooting fireworks into tornadoes.”

You laugh. “Peter loved that. He kept showing clips to everyone. I think it was the highlight of his week.”

“Yeah, how about you? You like Tyler Owens, too?”

You raise an eyebrow, a touch of exasperation in your voice. “Javi…”

“What?” he asks innocently, his gaze meeting yours. “It’s just a question.”

“Okay, if we’re just asking questions, how’s Kate doing?”

Javi shifts uncomfortably in his seat, his fingers drumming on the steering wheel as he avoids your eyes. “You really shouldn’t be asking your boss personal questions like that.”

“Mmmm, okay,” you reply.

For as long as you’ve known Javi, Kate’s been a topic of conversation. It wasn’t until recently that he reconnected with her, though, flying off to New York to recruit her for the team. She turned him down but texted him sporadically. It was clear to you he was painfully in love with her.

“We’re texting again,” Javi admits finally. "And she agreed to go to dinner when I'm in New York again next week," he reveals with a smile.

“Look at you go,” you encourage.

“Don’t make it a big deal,” he says, reaching over to fiddle with the radio.

Static bursts through a second later before it’s replaced by a soft, crooning voice. You settle back in your seat when you sense Javi’s done talking about the Kate situation. Based on the radar, you know it’s best to catch some sleep while you can. You close your eyes and tilt your head towards the sunlight streaming through the side window, letting the warmth wash over you. Tension drains from your body as you drift off to sleep, listening to Javi sing off-tune to the radio.

–

At exactly 7 p.m., there’s a knock on your door. You open it to see Tyler standing there, leaning casually against the doorframe, cowboy hat tipped low. He’s wearing a pearl snap shirt and sporting an impressively large belt buckle.

“My eyes are up here, sweetheart,” Tyler reminds you with a smirk. Your cheeks heat as you meet his gaze, feeling slightly embarrassed. “It says ‘Tornado Wrangler.’ Just in case you were too distracted to read it.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” you reply, though your tone lacks any real bite.

“But I do love a little flattery,” Tyler counters, extending his arm toward you.

After a moment of hesitation, you slip your hand around his bicep, allowing yourself to be guided along. The parking lot is quiet. It seems that the weekend storm chasers have all gone home. There’s only one solitary figure in the distance, their cigarette glowing briefly with an orange flare in the darkness. Most of the motel rooms you pass are dark and you wonder if everyone on your team has gone to the bar Peter suggested in the group text.

“Where are we going?” You ask.

“Only the finest establishment Bartlesville has to offer,” he replies.

“So the bar everyone else is headed to.”

“You city girls,” he says with a shake of his head. “Come on now,” he encourages, pulling you with him as he sprints across the road to another parking lot that’s crowded and brightly lit.

The neon letters flashing above the entrance proclaim that you've arrived at Cowboys’ Dancehall. As you and Tyler approach, you both hand over your IDs to the bouncer stationed outside. He scrutinizes the out-of-state licenses for a long moment before waving you on.

Inside, it’s loud and dimly lit. Couples spin around the dance floor to a fast-paced country song. The bar is crowded, but Tyler cuts through the throng of people with ease, keeping you beside him with a hand at your hip until you reach the old wooden bar. When he leans in to speak to the bartender his chest brushes your back.

“I’ll take a Bud Light, and the lady will have a rosé,” he tells her, his voice raised just enough to be heard over the music.

The bartender, an older woman with deep lines etched into her face, stares at Tyler before she pops the caps off two Bud Lights and slides them across the bar. “That’ll be $7 even,” she announces.

You press your hand to your mouth, stifling a laugh at the exchange.

“Well alright,” Tyler says, reaching for his wallet.

“I can pay for myself,” you insist, digging through your purse but he’s faster, dropping $10 on the counter.

“A fake date is still a date.” He tells you.

You’re relieved to escape the crush of the crowded bar as you make your way past the dance floor toward the quieter back area where tables are scattered. Peter spots you first, his face lighting up when he waves you over enthusiastically. You’re taken aback to see most of your coworkers seated at a table with Tyler’s crew. Boone greets you with a lopsided salute, while Lily gives you a fist bump. Tyler pulls out a chair for you, and you take a seat, distracted as you search the room for a familiar face.

“Don’t worry,” Peter half shouts to you over the table. “Javi and Scott are meeting with that investor guy.”

“Oh,” you respond, nodding and wondering just how often your coworkers hung out with Tyler’s team in Scott and Javi’s absence.

You were never one to go out with them before, preferring to wind down alone with a good book or movie. It’s clear that this isn’t the first time they’ve gathered like this; everyone seems pretty comfortable together. Tyler, in particular, is completely unfazed to find his crew mingling with Storm Par.

“You’re not going to rat us out to Scott are you?” Daniel asks nervously.

“City girl wouldn’t do that,” Tyler says confidently, resting an arm over the back of your chair. “Would you?” he asks.

He leans in slightly, his thumb brushing gently against your bare shoulder. The unexpectedly intimate touch startles you, and it takes a moment for you to regain your composure.

“Your secret is safe with me,” you promise, offering Daniel a reassuring smile.

He seems to accept your words and you settle back into your chair, letting the conversation of the table wash over you. Sipping your beer, you occasionally glance toward the door. There’s no sign of Scott and you’re left wondering about Tyler’s plan. Everyone else seems confident he and Javi won’t make an appearance tonight.

“Alright, enough sitting. Let’s dance,” Tyler announces, offering you his hand.

You nearly choke on your beer. “Dance?” you repeat, waving him off. “No one mentioned anything about dancing.”

“I can’t have you leaving Oklahoma without learning how to two-step.”

“How do you know I haven’t?” you challenge.

“I get the impression you don’t let yourself have a lot of fun,” Tyler replies quietly. The softness of his eyes and the utter sincerity in his voice make it hard to hold his gaze. It’s unsettling how clearly he seems to see through you.

“Come on,” he says, offering you his hand. “It’ll be fun.”

You glance at the door again before letting Tyler guide you toward the dance floor. The beat of the song is fast and you watch how effortlessly the other couples move, their steps fluid and graceful. Tyler takes your right hand and wraps his left arm around you, his palm resting firmly on your shoulder blade, drawing you close. After a moment’s hesitation, you place your left arm on his bicep. He feels warm and strong against you.

“I don’t know what I’m doing.” You say, feeling silly and out of place.

“Nothing to it. All you gotta do is follow, I’ll lead,” Tyler promises, surging forward and taking you with him.

You stumble a little, but Tyler’s quick to adjust his pace for you. He keeps you to the outside of the dance floor, guiding you through the moves. You watch his feet, trying to coordinate your own, but you end up stepping on his toes more than a few times. He doesn’t seem to mind, gently correcting you. It feels like you have two left feet and your anxiety flares in response.

“Look up here,” Tyler says, waiting patiently until you meet his gaze before continuing. “Don’t overthink it — just feel it”

“That’s easy for you to say,” you mutter.

“So let’s keep that big brain busy. Tell me about yourself. Did you go to a fancy school like MIT too?” He asks, his tone playful.

“Uh. No,” you say, glancing down only to have him tap your shoulder. You look up again. “I went to a state school.”

“So did I,” he reveals. “Though it was just for meteorology and atmospheric science.”

“You did?”

“Hey, no need to sound so surprised,” he replies, feigning mock hurt.

“A cowboy and a scholar,” you tease.

“Don’t forget a pretty great dancer, too,” he adds, lifting his arm to twirl you around before pulling you back into his embrace. When he does it again, a breathless laugh escapes you.

“Atta girl,” Tyler says, pulling you even closer. “Now we’re having fun.”

Your skin tingles and you feel warm all over. The world narrows to Tyler’s handsome face, his green eyes deep and captivating in the dim light. Your chest tightens, only allowing you to pull in shallow breaths that leave you lightheaded. In that moment, you realize you haven’t stumbled once — you’re moving perfectly in sync with him.

“One more dance?” He asks.

“Yeah,” you agree.

The current song fades into something softer and more subdued. The crowd begins to thin, but Tyler doesn’t seem deterred by the change. He lowers his hand to the small of your back, holding you close as he guides you in a slow, graceful sweep across the floor. Despite the smoky bar and the crowd of people, all you smell is Tyler's clean, crisp scent. It reminds you of the first storm of the season, the air electric and charged with energy. Full of potential.

Tyler stares steadily at you as he continues to move you across the floor, and you find yourself unable to look away from him. The music seems to fade, leaving only the sound of his breathing and your own. Your lashes flutter and you close your eyes, allowing yourself to simply feel — weightless and free.

It’s only when someone else bumps into you that your eyes snap open and reality comes rushing back. You stumble, but Tyler catches you, pulling you gently to the side.

“Doing alright?” He questions.

You nod, feeling strangely shaky. “I think I need some water.”

Hand still in yours, Tyler tugs you along until he reaches the end of the bar, where a large water jug sits. He hands you a cup, and you drink deeply, surveying the crowded bar. It takes you a while to realize you’re just taking in the sights and sounds, and you haven't thought about Scott at all.

“Our beers are probably warm by now. You want another?” He asks.

“I shouldn’t.”

He smiles and pulls out his phone, opening the weather app. The screen shows a mess of red and yellow just south of you. “You’re probably right,” he admits.

You both head back to the table, where Boone groans at Tyler’s announcement that his crew should return to the motel after finishing their drinks. Your coworkers seem to agree, with some heading to the bar to settle their tabs.

“I’ll walk you back.” Tyler offers.

Outside, the moon is obscured by thick clouds and it feels cooler than when you first arrived. Your eyes roam the parking lot, catching sight of Scarecrow. Scott and Javi must be back from their meeting. A pang of disappointment hits you. You’d hoped Scott would have seen you with Tyler again.

“Well…this is you,” Tyler says, stopping in front of your hotel room. “Not a bad night.”

“It wasn’t,” you agree. “But Scott didn’t show up.”

Tyler presses his lips together, his gaze falling away to look at something past you. His nostrils flare and then his eyes return to you, but the tension in his jaw remains.

"You had fun, didn't you?" He prods.

Even if tonight hadn't gone the way you wanted it to, you have to admit he was right. You had fun.

"I did,” you say, offering him a shy smile. “Thank you.”

“Well, then, it wasn’t a total loss. You had a good time,” he says, his tone warm. To your surprise, he leans in, removing his cowboy hat and holding it level with your face, effectively blocking your view to the left. His hand settles lightly on your hip. “Looks like we’ve got an audience — tall, dark, and a total dipshit.”

You stare up at him, your whole body tingling. “Scott?” You whisper.

“Mmmhmm,” Tyler returns. “Now if you're asking for my advice, I'd let him stew a bit. A man should have to work for you. Put in some effort.”

You nod, and Tyler steps back, pulling his hat on. When you finally look to the left the walkway is deserted, bathed in the dim light filtering through the curtains of the neighboring rooms. Tyler insists on waiting until you're safely inside, and you watch him linger by the door for another minute before he finally turns to leave.

With a sigh, you sit on the bed and slip off your shoes, feeling strangely adrift and unsure. Your text to Scott from this morning remains unanswered and you have no idea if what you’re doing with Tyler is going to help the way you want it to. You press the heels of your hands into your eyes, trying to clear your mind.

Lost in your thoughts, you nearly miss the soft knock at the door. You crack it open, looking up at Scott. His dark hair is damp, curling over his forehead. He smiles at you and your heart flutters in response. You almost invite him in on instinct, but Tyler’s earlier remarks rise to the surface.

“What?” Scott asks.

You straighten your shoulders, gathering the courage for what you want to ask. “Why didn’t you respond to my text message?”

His brow furrows, like he has zero idea what you’re talking about.

“I sent you a text this morning,” you clarify.

“We’re not supposed to text and drive in a company vehicle, you know that.”

His response immediately makes you feel silly because of course that made sense. Just last week Javi got on Daniel about texting and driving.

“Are you really going to make me stand out here?” He asks, quickly looking down the hall. He was probably worried someone would see the two of you.

“Of course not.” You step back to let him inside, chewing on the inside of your lip. “I just…why did you have me move cars?”

Scott presses his tongue against the inside of his cheek and exhales loudly. You wrap your arms around yourself and take a step back, but he follows you.

“You’ve ridden with me the last two days,” he says quietly. One of his large hands cups your jaw. “I can’t have people accusing me of favoritism, can I?”

You shake your head, frowning. He’s too close, his aftershave nearly overpowering. You need some space.

“Scott, I —” Whatever you were about to say is cut off as both your phones suddenly buzz, and outside you hear the all too familiar wail of the tornado siren.

♡

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violentdelightsandviolentends · 2 years ago

Text

Honey Girl. Chapter Two.

Previous Chapter. Next Chapter. Series Masterlist. The Playlist.

Pairing - Dad's Best Friend!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader - soulmate au

Chapter Synopsis - You and Bucky try to navigate what it means to be soulmates - and how difficult it is to keep your hands off each other.

Warnings - smut. cursing.

Word Count - 4k

Author's Note - part two!! thank you SO much for all of the love on part one - it has made me immensely happy. you're all the sweetest and i'm so grateful. i'm going on vacation in a few days, so i'm taking a hiatus for a few weeks as i won't have cell service. so, consider this my parting gift to you <3

as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback!) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3 please, send me your thoughts, predictions, desires!! I will get excited with you!!

Masterlist. Inbox.

Sunlight streams through the billowing white curtains, rousing you slowly. The gentle breeze cools the room, salt sticking to the air. Warmth is seeping into the glass of the windows, encouraging you to kick your sheets to the foot of your bed, limbs stretching and rolling.

You wake, and for a moment, you feel perfectly at peace. You feel light, tranquil, relaxed. You flex your neck from side to side, yawning as you do it. You notice that the sun is already up, beaming into your bedroom. It's going to be a very warm day, you think. I better pack sunblock.

You glance to where your bag is thrown haphazardly on the floor, contents spilling everywhere. It's unlike you, to not put something away properly. You take pride in being a tidy person. You must have been exhausted when you got home last night.

That's when it hits you.

Bucky.

The events of yesterday coming crashing down around you like a tidal wave. Hearts racing, hands interlacing, lips melding. Bodies tangling, breaths matching, knees buckling. Two souls, tied together forever.

Your Tethering.

To Bucky. Your Dad's best friend Bucky.

His absence is suddenly all you can think about. He's not here, and you feel like half of your heart is missing. You ache. There's a discomfort that you know can only be cured by the presence of your soulmate.

You're deep in thought when your phone rings, startling you. It's Bucky.

"Mornin' sugar," he drawls. The low tone of his voice is like molten honey, gorgeous and golden.

"Good morning, Buck."

You hear him exhale at the sound of your voice.

"I know we said we'd meet at ten, but can we make it earlier?" he asks. Then, quieter, "Feel like I can't breathe without you."

He murmurs the last part, as if it's a secret. Something sacred.

"Of course, Buck. I can be ready by nine?"

"Thanks, sweet girl. I'll pick you up?"

"Perfect. See you then."

"See you then."

It's almost painful to hang up the phone. It's like there's a gravitational force in The Universe, willing you against it. You ignore it defiantly and press the red button, swinging your legs over the side of the bed.

There's something in your gut telling you that this might just be the first day of the rest of your life. You certainly can't go back to the way things were. You're not sure if you want to.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

Bucky arrives at 8:45.

You're in the bathroom with the door closed, so you don't hear him pull up. You feel it. Like a magnetism, alerting you to his whereabouts. You breathe a little easier immediately, knowing he's outside.

You grab your bag and the picnic and pull on your shoes, eager to see him. You feel like a teenager again, giddy with anticipation. Apart from, this isn't your average first date. No, this is your last first date ever. This is a first date with the man you're bound to spend the rest of your life with. No pressure, you tell yourself. One step at a time.

Your heart kicks up in double time, thundering against your ribcage. You inhale deeply, cracking your knuckles. You can do this. It's just Bucky.

You bound down your stairs, practically running to his truck. Bucky's leaning against the passenger door, the wind ruffling his hair, sunlight reflecting off his steely blue eyes. He's wearing shorts and a white button up, which is blowing gently in the breeze. His sleeves are pushed up his forearms, exposing his gorgeous tanned skin. He has several shirt buttons undone, accentuating his broad chest, sunglasses tucked into the breast pocket. He looks so handsome. So classically elegant. Like he belongs in an old movie - a perfect leading man.

He eyes you carefully, gauging your reaction. You can tell he doesn't want to overstep, worried about pushing you too far too fast. You walk over and run your fingers across his exposed chest gently, tracing a path up his neck until you're caressing his cheek. His stubble tickles your fingertips, causing a smile to curl at the corners of your mouth. You finally meet his gaze, and all your stress is forgotten. You feel peaceful again.

"Hi," you whisper.

"Hi, pretty girl," he murmurs back, hands finding your waist. "You alright?"

"I'm okay. Are you okay?"

"I'm okay," he grins. "So, how do you feel about a day of sailing? You, me, and the ocean, baby."

"I think that sounds perfect."

He opens the car door for you, helping you up and into the passenger seat. He climbs in, clicking on his seat belt and starting the engine. Before he pulls away, he turns and looks at you, holding your stare for a moment. Bucky reaches for you, lacing your fingers together, resting your intertwined hands on your thigh. He begins to drive away, taking you towards the ocean. Towards your future.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

You know nothing about sailing.

Luckily, you don't need to. Bucky's quite content to keep you sitting pretty on the top deck while he does all of the work, pulling and tying and knotting. The crisp white sails billow in the wind, the ocean waves providing a steady, constant soundtrack. Birds fly overhead, sunshine beaming down, the wood underneath you warm and smooth. It's paradise.

You're soaking up the sun rays when you hear a click. You sit up to see Bucky holding his film camera, pointed right at you.

"Creep," you tease.

"Just want to have something to look back on. Our first day as soulmates. It's an occasion, you know," he grins.

He moves across the boat to sit next to you, thigh pressed up against yours. He's so close you can taste the spearmint on his breath. You tangle a hand in his hair, caressing the back of his head.

"I brought you a few new things to try," you tell him. "Some recipes I'm testing. I want your honest opinion. No sugar coating. Promise?"

"I promise," he winks, holding up a scouts honour. "I wouldn't lie to you, honey."

You reach over and grab your picnic basket, unwrapping various beeswax packages and laying them out in front of you.

"Okay - we have white chocolate and pistachio muffins, raspberry and lemon macarons, earl grey and lavender cookies and carrot and cinnamon cake."

You glance over at Bucky, expecting him to be deciding what to try first. Instead, you find him watching you carefully, gentle smile etched across his face.

"What?" you laugh.

"Nothing," he beams. "I just... I love it when you start talking about food. You're passionate. You light up."

"Don't make it weird," you joke, slightly taken aback by his honesty. He did promise not to sugar coat.

He reaches for a macaron, eager to try one after you mentioned them yesterday. He pops one in his mouth, and lets out a groan that can only be described as pornographic.

"Fuck," he moans. "This might be the best thing I've ever eaten."

"You promised you wouldn't lie," you laugh.

"I'm not," he chuckles, placing his hand over his heart. "I swear to you. These things should be used as medicine. They'd cure anything."

"Shut up," you tease bashfully, bumping your shoulder into his.

He tries the other sweets one by one, complimenting you immensely. He's so specific in the way he commends your baking. He comments on certain flavours, and textures, and the way everything melts on his tongue. He really takes the time to think about what he says. It's so intimate.

"You're gonna do this for a living, right?" he asks, turning to face you.

"I hope so," you confess. "It's all I want to do. Going to culinary school was a huge risk, but I did it. It was difficult, but they were also the best four years of my life. I just learned so much. I want to put it all into practice."

"I think you should. It'd be such a waste if you didn't. You're so talented, sugar."

"Thanks, Buck," you grin. "I just don't know where to start."

He thinks for a moment.

"If you could do anything, anything in the world - what would you do?"

He's looking at you so intensely, you almost want to shy away. His steel blue eyes are boring into you, reading your mind, figuring out your soul.

"I'd... I'd open a bakery of my own. I want a lot that overlooks the ocean. With big windows."

Bucky smiles gently, adoration written across his face.

"I'd be your most loyal customer," he vows. "Oh, I have a better idea - I'll be your quality control. I'll taste test everything before you sell it. You know, just in case."

"Just in case," you laugh. "Right."

"It's a tough job, but someone's got to do it," he winks.

The sound of your laughter is like dopamine to Bucky. It fires off neurons in his brain, receptors buzzing and alight. He almost feels drunk off the sound, floating above ground.

You relax into him, laying down and resting your head in his lap. He's warm, and soft, and so comfortable. You could lie here forever.

He runs his fingers through your hair gently, playing with the strands. The repetitive rocking of the boat lulls you into an easy sleep, the sunlight wrapping around you, taking the place of a blanket. Bucky watches you drift off, unable to wipe the smile off his face.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

A particularly strong gust of wind wakes you, rousing you from sleep. Your fingers are interlinked with Bucky's, head still resting on his strong thighs.

"How long was I out?" you ask, looking up at him.

"Like, twenty minutes? You looked peaceful, thought I'd let you rest."

"Sorry, Buck," you chuckle.

"Hey, don't apologise. I'll take it as a compliment. You know, they say you only sleep around the people you feel safe with."

"They say a lot of fuckin' things," you laugh, repeating his words from yesterday.

"I do, though," you say after a moment. "Feel safe with you. It's not just the soulmate thing. I always have."

Bucky leans down to press his forehead to yours, closing his eyes. He pulls away and kisses the spot where you were just connected.

"We should talk about us," you murmur, sitting up to face him.

"Uh oh. Are you breaking up with me?" Bucky jokes, nudging your knee with his.

"Yeah, right," you scoff. "As if you'd be so lucky. You're stuck with me, I'm afraid."

"I'll survive," he winks. "But we should. Talk about us."

You look at each other for a moment, carefully. You notice that the ocean is reflecting in Bucky's eyes, waves gleaming and blue.

"I don't know where to start," you whisper.

"Maybe start at the beginning," he suggests, reaching out to rest his palm on your thigh, fingertips rubbing comforting circles into your skin.

"I... I think - I think we should do exactly that. Start at the beginning."

He nods at you reassuringly, urging you to continue.

"I want to start slow. Really slow. I know we already know each other, but this... this is different. We don't know each other like this."

"Like soulmates," he agrees. "It's a whole other level. A league of its own."

"Exactly. I know we're Tethered, but, I think we should treat this like a normal relationship. We should date, and just... take this step by step."

"One step at a time," he confirms. "Prepare yourself, honey. I'm about to date the hell outta you."

"Someone save me," you laugh, throwing your head back. "All those poor girls that have come before me - they had to put up with this?"

He laughs with you, the sound rumbling in his chest.

"Trust me, sugar, you're different."

Bucky leans forward and slots his lips to yours, hands going to your waist to pull you closer.

Kissing your soulmate is unlike any other feeling. It's complete serenity. Two bodies, designed by The Universe to fit together perfectly.

Your fingers thread through Bucky's hair as you move to sit in his lap, straddling him. You grind your hips forward, illiciting a groan from the both of you.

Bucky slips his tongue into your mouth, tasting the sugar there. He can't get enough. You're so sweet and soft underneath his hands, underneath his tongue. He wants more.

He tips you backwards, so you're lying flat on the deck. Bucky moves to kneel in between your legs, prying them open gently. He kisses his way from your ankle to your knee, occasionally nipping at your flesh. He likes the idea of there being a mark on you that he left. He feels more protective of you than he ever has of anyone. The feeling vibrates through his bones, fires up his nerve endings. He needs to feel every inch of your skin as soon as possible, or he's convinced he'll burst into flames.

He smooths his hands up your thighs, fingers catching in the waistband of your shorts. He shimmies them down your legs, and inhales sharply at the sight before him. You're laid out on the deck of his boat like a goddess, the white shirt adorning your body matching the white lace underwear underneath. The sun rays are beating down, illuminating you, making you glow from the inside out. Bucky can't breathe, looking at you. He feels like all of the oxygen has been stolen from his lungs, replaced with pure desire.

You're breathless, panting, chest heaving. You're shaking with anticipation, willing him to do something. Anything.

"Bucky," you whine. "Please."

He's never heard a prettier sound. It's like angel song, the way you say his name.

"Patience, sweets. I thought we were taking it slow."

"Asshole," you laugh, poking him in the chest with your toe. "You're a hypocrite."

"Am I?" he smirks, running his fingertips across the inside of your thighs.

"Yes. You can't kiss me like that and then tell me to have patience."

"My apologies, ma'am."

He leans over and kisses you again, biting your bottom lip as he pulls away. Bucky slips your underwear down your legs and tucks them into the pocket of his shorts, ignoring your scoff as you watch him do it.

"Come here, pretty baby," he murmurs, tugging at your hips to pull you closer to him.

He nudges your core with his nose, inhaling deeply. It's filthy, the action, but it makes you ache with want. He licks into the crease of your thigh next, tasting the salt on your skin. Your hand flies to his hair, tugging the chocolate strands. You whine again, and Bucky commits the sound to memory.

He surprises you by sucking your clit gently, causing your hips to buck up towards his mouth. He splays one hand across your stomach, holding you down. He uses his other hand to insert a finger into you, groaning at your warmth. He crooks it up, and you keen.

"I know, baby, I know," he coos, adding a second finger.

You're not sure if it's because of the glaring sunlight or because of Bucky, but there's a thin sheen of sweat coating your skin, dripping down your temple. You're burning from the inside out, white hot heat running through your veins.

He thrusts both fingers in and out of you steadily, curling them on the up stroke. You throw your head back, hips wriggling and writhing.

"Where you going, pretty girl?" he drawls. "Come here - that's it."

He pulls you back to him, fingers never stopping. He looks up at you, and notices that you've thrown a hand over your face, shielding yourself.

"Don't go shy on me now," he practically purrs, smiling when you move your arm away. "Most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

"Fuck," you moan, suddenly glad you're in the middle of the ocean. The sounds you're letting out are filthy.

"I know, pretty baby. I know."

His fingers push you closer and closer to the edge, speeding up slightly. You're whining, keening, hips bucking up into him. You can't stay still. You feel like you're on fire, red hot electricity running through you. It's never been like this with anyone before. It never will be again.

"You're close, honey, I can feel it. You're almost there," he drawls. "Atta girl. Come on, baby. You got it. Good girl."

His low, honeyed words throw you into your climax, back arching off the sun warmed wood. Bucky talks you through it, encouraging and praising you in hushed murmurs. You see stars, bright white patterns flashing behind your eyelids. The world goes quiet for a moment, and all you feel is peace.

Bucky brings you back to reality by rubbing soothing circles into the bare skin of your thigh, still muttering softly. He lets you catch your breath before leaning over and kissing you gently.

"You okay, sugar?"

You smile at him in a daze, still floating on air.

"I'm good, Buck. Very good, actually."

He laughs at your response, moving your hair away from your face. You sit up to look at him, admiring him carefully.

"You're so pretty," you whisper. "I mean, I've always known it. But now, it's so... blinding. You're the most beautiful person in the world."

He's not sure how to process your words. He's never felt so loved, so safe, so appreciated before. It's overwhelming. He doesn't know what to say - so instead, he kisses you hard.

"You're the sweetest girl in the world, you know that right?" he whispers against your lips.

He moves to sit behind you, so your back is resting against his chest. You nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck, breathing him in. He smells like warmth, and salt, and home.

"I don't think we should tell my parents," you say lowly, afraid to ruin the moment. "Not yet, anyway."

"I agree," he reassures. "I think we should figure this out first. Figure us out."

You lean up and peck his lips gently, pulling away to trace your fingertips over the contours of his face.

"It's gonna take a while to figure this out, isn't it?"

"That's the thing, sweet girl. We have all the time in the world."

You relax back into his arms, letting his steady heartbeat lull you into complete tranquility.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

You spend all day on the boat with Bucky, soaking up the sun. Your shirts are billowing in the wind, hair blowing in every direction. The ocean rocks you both in routine motion, gentle and calming.

He teaches you the basics of sailing, sitting knee to knee with you while you repeatedly tie knots into pieces of rope. He stands behind you comfortingly as you pull and tug at the rigging, supporting you only when you ask for help.

The two of you sit tangled together on the deck, enjoying your picnic. You take a moment to rub sunblock into Bucky's shoulders, ignoring the heat that rises in your chest when he groans in delight. He's irresistible. This is more than just lust. This is a magnetism, an almost animalistic connection. It's quite literally written in the stars.

The both of you are clearly reluctant to go home. You sit in Bucky's truck outside your apartment for hours, talking about nothing and everything. You don't invite him upstairs. You know that if you do, you'll jump his bones instantly. You've both agreed to take this slow. You have to start being strict with yourselves, or you'll just keep ending up in bed.

Eventually, your stomach rumbles, making Bucky chuckle.

"You should go. Eat something."

"I know. I just... I like being with you."

He leans over the centre console to press a kiss to your lips, revelling in the way you taste like the ocean breeze.

"There's no one else in the world I'd rather be with," he murmurs against your mouth.

You pull away and take a deep breath, preparing to leave Bucky for tonight.

"Thank you, for today. It's been perfect."

"Perfect day for a perfect girl," he winks, making you both laugh.

"One step at a time."

"All the time in the world," he echoes.

"Goodnight, Buck," you whisper, moving in closer to press your forehead to his.

"Goodnight, honey girl," he whispers back, pecking your lips quickly.

He jumps out of the drivers side to help you down from the truck, holding your hand carefully. You smile at the déjà vu. He does too.

You look back at him once more before closing your front door. He's already looking at you, his eyes never once leaving your frame, smile never leaving his face.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

You're curled up on the couch when your phone rings, startling you from your peace. You look at the caller ID in confusion.

"Stella? Hey - you okay?"

"Hey, you. Long time no see, huh?"

"It's been a while," you laugh. "I didn't expect a call from you."

"I'm sorry we haven't talked in so long. I've been super busy - I'm opening my own café! It has a bookshop inside it too - oh it's gorgeous, you wouldn't even believe it."

"That sounds amazing, Stella. I'm so happy for you, wow."

"I'm actually calling because I have something to ask you."

"Ask away, Stell."

"I have a sort of... proposition for you. An offer, if you will."

"You're really building the anticipation here," you chuckle.

"Sorry, sorry! So, I'm gonna need a Head Baker. I can't do it, because I'll be manager, and I'm the owner which is a tough job in itself. Opening a café is fucking difficult, you know!" she laughs, before continuing. "You'd have complete creative control - you'd design your own bakes, everything would be completely down to you. There's quite literally only one person in this world that I'd want to do this job, and it's you."

You almost can't believe what she's telling you. It sounds perfect. It sounds like a dream.

"Stella - are you sure? This is a huge deal. You want me?"

"I only want you. I can't picture working alongside anyone else. We made such a good team in culinary school, and we always said we'd find each other in the future."

"I... I don't even know what to say."

"Say yes!" she encourages, giggling down the phone.

"Yes!" you echo, giddy with joy. "God, Stella, yes!"

You're smiling from ear to ear, unable to wipe the grin off your face. Your dream job has been presented to you on a silver platter. You'd be stupid not to take it.

"I mean - when do I start? What should I wear? Do you want a set menu, or can I change it up all the time? Vegan options? Gluten free?"

"I can send you all of the boring stuff in an email - contracts, salary information, all that shit. You can quite literally do whatever the fuck you want, girl. I trust you completely. I trust your culinary skills even more."

"Oh my god, I'm so excited. Thank you, Stella. Seriously. This is just amazing."

"I can't wait to have you here with me again!"

You process for a moment, trying to make sense of what she just said.

"Wait... what? Where?"

"In California. The café is here, in California!"

You can't hear her next words due to the ringing in your ears. Your chest tightens, your hands ball into fists, your breathing becomes ragged.

There's a million thoughts racing through your mind, and you can't quite get a firm grasp on any of them.

Bucky would never leave this place. This is his home. I can't ask him to abandon his life here - I wouldn't want to. We've been soulmates for two days. What about his job? His friends? Would I leave everything behind and move across the country for him? I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I can't have my cake and eat it too. He'd give everything up for me in a heartbeat - I can't let him. It's not fair.

You're suddenly intensely aware - you have to make a choice.

Bucky or your dreams.

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deliciousangelfestival · 9 months ago

Text

The Imperfect Couple - 7

Character: politician!Bucky x ex-wife!reader

Summary: A separated couple must pretend to be happily married while the husband runs for Vice President, dealing with old issues and political pressures during his election campaign.

Warning: The couple's arguments could be triggering.

Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 , Chapter 3 , Chapter 4 , Chapter 5 , Chapter 6 , Chapter 7 , Chapter 8 , Chapter 9 , Chapter 10 , Chapter 11 , Chapter 12 , Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on Ko-fi 🙏🏻

By the way, I publish my book Arrogant Ex-Husband and Dad, I Can't Let You Go by Alina C. Bing on Kindle.

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

Bucky’s gut had been gnawing at him for weeks, a familiar, nagging feeling whenever Ian was around. Something about the man didn’t sit right, and Bucky couldn’t shake the sense that he’d seen this behavior before. His instincts kicked in, and he ordered someone to dig deeper into Ian’s past.

The brown envelope arrived the next day. Bucky sat at his desk, his eyes narrowing as he tore it open. Inside were the results of the investigation—pages that painted a much darker picture than he’d anticipated. As he skimmed the documents, his jaw clenched, and a low curse escaped his lips, “Shit.”

🌸🌸🌸🌸

The next day, you and Bucky arrived at a shelter for single mothers, a stop on the campaign trail. The women inside had experienced hardships most people couldn’t imagine, fleeing from abusive partners and trying to rebuild their lives. Their stories of survival hung in the air, unspoken but palpable in their tired eyes and wary smiles.

You moved through the room, serving food and making small talk with the women, trying your best to offer some comfort. As you handed a plate to one woman, you said softly, “I understand what kind of psychological torment you’ve been through. I hope you stay strong.”

The moment the words left your mouth, what you’d meant as a word of encouragement didn’t land the way you’d hoped.

Later that night, a video of the conversation went viral. It was clear someone had recorded the interaction and released it online. Bucky knew this had to be the work of his opponents, seizing the opportunity to discredit you—and by extension, him.

You watched the video, feeling a pit form in your stomach as the comments poured in:

"Stay strong? She doesn’t seem like someone who’s ever been through what we have."

"She wouldn’t understand. She lives in a happy home. How could she possibly know what it’s like to run from someone who’s supposed to love you?"

Their words cut deep, slicing through your carefully constructed image. They didn’t know the truth—that your marriage to Bucky was its own kind of prison. Pretending to be the perfect wife had taken a toll on you, but no one saw behind the curtain.

You froze, feeling exposed, as if they’d somehow sensed the cracks in your façade. You had become so good at lying, at convincing the world that you and Bucky were happy, that now, faced with these women who had lived through real pain, you felt like a fraud.

Furthermore, you wanted to tell them that you understood, that you too had felt trapped and powerless. But the words stuck in your throat. Instead, you smiled for the cameras, playing your part, knowing that your life was being documented as an example of “happiness.”

Then your eyes landed on a comment that sent you reeling:

"If they’re so happy, wouldn’t they have a kid by now?"

The question hung in the air, mocking you. They didn’t know the truth—how could they? And yet, their words seemed to pierce through the mask you’d been wearing for so long.

🌸🌸🌸🌸

The silence between you and Bucky was heavy, almost suffocating. You hadn’t said much since the shelter incident, and Bucky could sense your stress in the way you barely touched your food or drank any water. You sat at the dining table, staring blankly at the untouched plate in front of you.

Bucky watched you for a moment before stepping closer, his brow furrowing with concern. He gently touched your forehead, his fingers warm against your skin.

“You have a fever,” he said, his voice low with worry.

You immediately pulled away from his hand, your body instinctively recoiling. Your stress had a way of manifesting physically, and whenever you were overwhelmed, your body shut down. This was no different.

“Don’t touch me,” you muttered, your voice hollow.

Bucky’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t argue. He knew this would happen, knew how your body responded when you were pushed too far. Without a word, he slipped his arm around you, supporting you as he guided you toward your room. You didn’t resist, too tired to fight.

“Just leave,” you said once you reached your room, your voice barely above a whisper.

But Bucky ignored your words. He sat you down on the edge of the bed, gently lifting your feet into his lap. You stiffened in surprise as his hands began to massage your aching feet. The familiarity of the gesture caught you off guard—he used to do this all the time when you were together, especially on nights when you came home exhausted, too tired to even think.

Your face grew warmer, though not just because of the fever. The tension between the two of you was palpable, a mix of unresolved emotions and unspoken words hanging in the air. Bucky’s touch, once comforting, now felt like it held the weight of all the things left unsaid.

“I’ll bring the medicine,” he said after a few moments, his voice softer now.

You didn’t respond, too lost in the swirl of emotions flooding your mind. The way his hands moved, the care in his touch—it was all too familiar. It made your chest tighten with memories of when things weren’t this complicated.

As Bucky stood to leave, you finally spoke, your voice quiet and raw. “Why are you doing this?”

He paused, turning back to face you. “Because I care. I always do” His eyes searched yours, and for a moment, it was as if the walls you’d built between you both cracked, if only just a little.

You didn’t respond, not knowing what to say. You could feel your eyelids growing heavy as the exhaustion of the day and the fever pulled at you. Bucky noticed, his eyes softening. Without another word, he pulled the blanket over you and quietly left the room, closing the door behind him with a soft click.

You lay there, your mind racing despite your body’s exhaustion. His touch, his words, they lingered long after he’d gone. You hated that he still had this effect on you. And yet, deep down, there was a part of you that wanted to believe him, wanted to let your guard down. But after everything, how could you?

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

You woke up, feeling the weight of exhaustion still clinging to your limbs, but something was different. The fever that had clouded your mind the night before was gone, leaving you with a sense of relief. Slowly, you sat up, glancing around the room. Bucky wasn’t here. It was the first time you’d been alone in the apartment since arriving.

The quietness felt strange, almost eerie. For a moment, you simply sat there, trying to shake the grogginess from your mind. Eventually, curiosity got the better of you, and you decided to explore the space. The apartment was large, meticulously designed, but there was a personal touch to it that reflected both of you. You wandered through the rooms until you stopped at his office.

The door creaked slightly as you pushed it open. His office was a mess—papers and law books were scattered across the desk and shelves, as if he’d been too busy to organize anything. But something caught your eye, an area that was surprisingly tidy amidst the chaos: his vinyl collection. It was neatly arranged, displayed with care, each record in perfect order.

Bucky loved collecting vinyls. You remembered that about him. As you approached the collection, your eyes scanned the spines of the records. Most of them were from artists both of you used to listen to. Your fingers grazed over the albums, a nostalgic pang in your chest.

Then, something unusual caught your attention. Tucked between the vinyl sleeves was a piece of paper, slightly worn. Frowning, you pulled it out and realized it wasn’t just any paper—it was a letter.

You stared at the handwriting, your heart skipping a beat. It was Bucky’s handwriting. Slowly, your eyes widened as recognition dawned on you. It was a letter he never sent. A letter to you.

Your pulse quickened as a rush of emotions hit you. Should you open it? Guilt twisted in your stomach, but then that familiar voice—the devil on your shoulder—spoke louder. He wrote this for you. He never sent it, but it’s yours.

Before you could second-guess yourself, you quickly hid the letter under your shirt, glancing around the office as if someone might walk in at any moment. Your heart raced as you hurried back to your room, the letter burning against your skin like a secret you weren’t supposed to know.

Once in the safety of your room, you sat on the bed, staring at the letter in your hands. The room felt smaller, your breaths shallow. Was this right? Should you be reading this? But you couldn’t stop yourself.

With trembling fingers, you opened the first letter.

It was short, written in Bucky’s familiar scrawl.

"I’m sorry. I know everything we went through must have been painful for you, more than I ever realized at the time. We were close, but we never truly communicated. I knew you were hurting, and I did nothing to stop it. That’s my fault. I’m the one to blame.

One day, if we ever meet again, I hope you’ll give me another chance. You deserve happiness, and I wish you the best of luck in finding it, even if it’s not with me."

You blinked, feeling a lump form in your throat. You hadn’t expected this. An apology. Words you thought you’d never hear—or read—from him. Your hands shook as you carefully unfolded another letter.

"I read your article. It’s really good. I always knew you’d make a great writer. You’ve always had a way with words. I’m proud of you. I hope you have a safe journey."

The words blurred for a moment as tears threatened to spill from your eyes. You never knew he was following your work, that he cared enough to read what you wrote. It felt like a secret window into a part of him you thought had closed off to you long ago.

With a deep breath, you opened the final letter, bracing yourself.

"I’m worried about you. Going to a war zone as a journalist—it’s dangerous, and I can’t stop thinking about it. Please be careful. I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to you. I pray every day that you’re safe."

Your chest tightened as you finished reading, the rawness of his words washing over you. Bucky had been worried about you all this time. His concern, his pride—it was all there, hidden in these letters you were never supposed to find. And yet, here you were, holding the pieces of his heart in your hands.

It was overwhelming. You didn’t know how to feel—angry, confused, touched. All you knew was that the walls you had built to protect yourself were starting to crack, and you weren’t sure if you could put them back together.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

You and Bucky met Greg again to prepare before heading to the TV station for the debate. Greg, always thinking ahead, was pacing as he went over the final details. His sharp gaze darted between you and Bucky, trying to ensure everything would go smoothly.

As the minutes ticked by, Greg suddenly paused, his face lighting up with an idea. "Perhaps," he suggested, "before Bucky heads out for the debate, you could give him a peck on the cheek. You know, for the cameras. A little show of affection can go a long way."

You hesitated for a moment, but then nodded, your expression neutral. "Okay," you agreed simply. The decision seemed easy enough—just a small gesture for the public eye. However, from the corner of your eye, you noticed Bucky’s brow arch slightly, a glint of surprise crossing his features.

Bucky glanced at you, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, "How about a kiss on the lips instead?"

You rolled your eyes, unable to hide your exasperation. "Shut up," you muttered, though the warmth of the moment lingered between you. Bucky chuckled softly, clearly enjoying the brief banter as Greg scribbled down notes, already planning how to work this into the media strategy.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

The day of the debate finally arrived. The room buzzed with tension as cameras were positioned, reporters whispered amongst themselves, and the stage was set. You stood backstage with Bucky, watching as the other candidates made their entrances. Edgar, running for president, was calm and composed, the very image of a seasoned politician.

Then there was Brock, another candidate for vice president—and Bucky’s long-time rival. The two had been at odds for years, their competition fierce and personal. The air between them crackled with animosity as they took their places.

As the debate began, the moderators threw sharp, pointed questions at the candidates, each probing their policies and character. Bucky was in his element, answering each question with practiced ease. His words were clear, his tone confident, and his delivery flawless. Every question thrown at him was met with a precise, well-thought-out response.

Moderator: "Mr. Barnes, what would be your first priority in office?"

Bucky: "My first priority is to address healthcare. Ensuring affordable and accessible healthcare is the cornerstone of a strong nation. We must invest in preventive care and make it easier for families to access the support they need."

The audience nodded in agreement, and even the other candidates seemed to respect his answer. Brock, however, was struggling. Every time he tried to match Bucky’s eloquence, he stumbled, his frustration mounting with each failed attempt to make a point.

Moderator: "Mr. Rumlow, what is your stance on education reform?"

Brock: "Well, uh, we need to… to invest in schools, yes, but we can’t just throw money at the problem. We need accountability, and we need… um, better results."

His answer lacked the conviction and clarity that Bucky’s did, and you could see the frustration in Brock’s face as the debate went on.

The tension between the two men simmered, especially as Bucky continued to outshine him with every answer. But just when it seemed like Bucky had the upper hand, Brock saw an opening—and took it.

At the height of the debate, Brock's voice cut through the air, sharp and malicious. "You talk a lot about honesty and integrity, Barnes. But what about your brother? Didn’t he hit someone and never face any punishment?"

The room fell silent, a heavy, uncomfortable stillness filling the space. From your spot backstage, you could feel the tension roll off Bucky in waves. His muscles tensed beside you, his jaw clenched tight. This was his darkest family secret, one he’d hoped to keep buried. But now, here it was, dragged into the spotlight in front of a national audience.

Bucky’s hands curled into fists at his sides, his eyes narrowing as he shot Brock a cold, hard glare. For a moment, it looked like Bucky might lose his composure. The silence stretched on, the entire room holding its breath, waiting for his response.

But then, with a deep breath, Bucky straightened, his voice steady but laced with restrained anger. "My brother's actions were reprehensible, and there is no excuse for them. But unlike my opponent, I believe in accountability—and my family has taken steps to address that privately. This debate is about the future of this country, not digging up personal attacks to avoid talking about real issues."

The room shifted as Bucky’s calm yet pointed response cut through the tension. Brock, visibly thrown by how easily Bucky had deflected his attack, fumbled for his next words, but the damage had been done. Bucky had taken control once again, leaving Brock at a loss.

Backstage, you watched the scene unfold, a mixture of relief and pride swelling within you. Bucky had handled the moment with grace.

But you knew you couldn’t rest. With Shawn’s dark secret now exposed, it meant that your marriage to Bucky could be the next scandal to surface.

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nekoannie-chan · 1 year ago

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Week 8 Reblog Masterlist

}Welcome to Week 8 2024 or Week 216, as always, fics would be listed in the order I read them.

I hope you enjoy it!

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

♥ You can check my reading guidelines here.

♥ You can check my masterlist here.

♥ You can check my main reblog masterlist 2024 here.

♥ You can check my February reblog masterlist 2024 here.

♥ You can check Week 7 2024 here.

♥ You can check Week 9 2024 here.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

𝙺𝚎𝚢𝚜: 💛 ᵒʳᶤᵍᶤᶰᵃˡ ˢᵗᵒʳʸ

💜 ʰᵒʳʳᵒʳ

🖤 ᵈᵃʳᵏ

❤️ ˢᵐᵘᵗ

💚 ᶠˡᵘᶠᶠ

💙 ᵃᶰᵍˢᵗ

🧡 ᶜᵒᵐᵉᵈʸ

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

This is the list of the fics I read and recommend in Week 8 2024:

Making up for lost time (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @happy74827 💙

On a scar (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @ronearoundblindly 💚

Steve cooch (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @questionableratatouille00 💚

What no one sees part 2 (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @stevierogersbabygirl❤️💙

Sweet as pie (Ransom Drysdale X Reader) by @nicoline1998enilocin❤️

Till death do my part (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @dungeonpuppykai 💙

Your team (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @ronearoundblindly 💚

That’s my girl part 1 (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @callmissrogers 💙

Can’t take my eyes off you (Stucky X Reader) by @nicoline1998enilocin❤️

Waiting on a miracle chapter 1 (Steve Rogers X OFC) by @tea-stained-notes❤️💙

Your mark on me part 1 (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @georgiapeach30513❤️💙

Monster inside you part 1 (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @queen-of-the-avengers❤️💙

Fic (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @hansensgirl❤️

Waiting on a miracle chapter 2 (Steve Rogers X OFC) by @tea-stained-notes❤️💙

Your mark on me part 2 (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @georgiapeach30513❤️💙

Monster inside you part 2 (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @queen-of-the-avengers❤️💙

The night before (Stucky X Reader) by @buckybuckyboo❤️

Waiting on a miracle chapter 3 (Steve Rogers X OFC) by @tea-stained-notes❤️💙

Your mark on me part 3 (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @georgiapeach30513❤️💙

Monster inside you part 3 (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @queen-of-the-avengers❤️💙

Valentine canine (Ransom Drysdale X Reader) by @eulalielatibule❤️💚

Dry humping (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @mrsbuckybarnes1917❤️

Waiting on a miracle chapter 4 (Steve Rogers X OFC) by @tea-stained-notes❤️💙

Your mark on me part 4 (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @georgiapeach30513❤️💙

Drabble (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @time-violet-blog 💙

Tabula rasa (Bucky Barnes X Reader) by @mrsbuckybarnes1917 💚💙

Waiting on a miracle chapter 5 (Steve Rogers X OFC) by @tea-stained-notes❤️💙

Your mark on me part 5 (Steve Rogers X Reader) by @georgiapeach30513❤️💙

#Annie recommends #week 8 reblog masterlist #reblog masterlist

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buckybarnesevents · 22 days ago

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HOT BUCKY SUMMER IS BACK!

This event runs from June 1st, 2025 to August, 30, 2025. Masterlists (optional) are due by August 31st. Each week starting June 1st, we’ve given you a theme (phrase) and three (or more) prompts to spark your imagination. You do not have to strictly include the exact phrase or prompt words in your works - they are meant to encourage you and inspire your overall idea! Interpret them as you wish.

📢 RULES/FAQs

Tag accordingly, please! General blog rules apply to this, please read before participating. This event is 18+ due to the nature of the prompts.

There is no minimum or maximum limit.

We will not be reblogging works outside of the assigned week (ex: if you fill a week 1 prompt but we are already in July, we will not be reglogging), however, these prompts are meant to inspire your muses and you can use them as you desire.

Your works do not have to be inherently M or E rated to participate, they are up to your interpretation.

There is no limit on how many works you create. You can create multiple works for one prompt/week, participate in only week, or create a multi-chapter fic to combine different weeks/prompts. We encourage and welcome all participants!

TAG ACCORDINGLY!

Any and all forms of creation are welcomed!

📢 HOW TO SHARE YOUR WORKS:

Please mention us (@buckybarnesevents) and use the tag #hotbuckysummer2025 in your post for us to reblog your works!

We MUST be able to clearly identify what week/prompt you are using. Again, we will not be reblogging works outside of the assigned week. If we cannot easily tell what prompt you are using when tagged, we will not be reblogging.

You can also tag us again in your masterpost for us to reblog a summary of your works for this event.

⏩ Ao3 Collection: HotBuckySummer2025 ⏩ Discord: https://discord.gg/buckybarnesevents (Great place to promote, and feel free to join for a friendly community to hang with even outside of events!) ⏩Previous Works: Event Archive

For a word version (enabling copy and paste), please see below the cut.

Happy creating!

💙 HR

1 June 1st - June 7th | “Mind your own damn business.” | [Secret Sex/Relationship | Embarrassment | Denial]

2 June 8th - June 14th | “Did I give you permission?” | [Cock Cage | Orgasm Delay/Denial | Master/Pet Roleplay]

3 June 15th - June 21st | “Not now!” | [Heat/Rut | Rushed Sex | Exhibitionism]

4 June 22nd - June 28th | FREE WEEK | [Optional prompts: “A” - Auto-fellatio, Aftercare, Aphrodisiac, Anal Play, Ass-to-mouth, Ahegao]

5 June 29th - July 5th | “Play with it.” | [Cock Worship | Forced Masturbation | Come Play]

6 July 6th - July 12th | “I need help.” | [Sex Pollen | Erectile Dysfunction | Fuck or Die]

7 July 13th - July 19th | “Put this on.” | [Blindfolds | Lingerie | Gag/Collars]

8 July 20th - July 26th | “Have it your way, then.” | [Brat | Punishment | Sub/Dom Relationship]

9 July 27th - August 2nd | FREE WEEK | Optional Prompts: “S” - Sex Toys, Stomach Bulge, Somnophilia, Stuckage, Saliva Play]

10 August 3rd - August 9th | “I can’t.” | [Big Cock | Anal Training | Forced Orgasm]

11 August 10th - August 16th | “You look good like this.”| [Marked Up | Tied Down | Ruined]

12 August 17th - August 23rd | “You can’t be real.” | [Fantasy Character | Monsterfucking | Dreaming/Daydreaming]

13 August 24th - August 30th | FREE WEEK | [Optional Prompts: “M” - (Mutual) Masturbation, Masochism, Medical Play, Milking, Musk, Multiple Orgasms]

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes events #fandom event #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanart #bucky barns fanwork

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whereforarthur · 10 months ago

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Masterlist~

All of my work compiled in one place. Please like and reblog if you enjoy them, feedback is greatly appreciated. Requests are open!

(Updated 11/18/2024)

(X) = coming soon

ItalianBach~

Fluff:

You’re The Only Man I Want to Kiss

- Isaac and his girlfriend y/n react to Women Rank Men by Kissing

Smut:

Ménage à trois (Threesome w/ ArthurTv)

- Who knew fan fictions could cause so much pleasure?

Ménage à trois (Part 2)

- Having had a threesome the night before leads to an interesting and revealing podcast episode, leading their friends to question what truly happened?

ArthurTV~

Angst:

Unrequited Love Hurts Like A Bitch

- Being in love with your best friend sucks, especially when he doesn't feel the same way

Unrequited Love Hurts Like A Bitch (Part 2)

- Soulmates are two best friends who fell in love

Fluff:

Being Stuck in an Elevator Never Looked so Good?

- Getting trapped in an elevator with your favorite YouTuber, was not what you had planned for today

Love At First Podcast

- Falling in love with you was easy

Smut:

"Women weaken legs"

- After your boyfriend Arthur was in boxing training camp and was forced to go 6-8 weeks without distractions and sex, he goes feral for his girlfriend when he gets out

Ménage à trois (Threesome w/ ItalianBach)

- Who knew fan fictions could cause so much pleasure?

Ménage à trois (Part 2)

- Having had a threesome the night before leads to an interesting and revealing podcast episode, leading their friends to question what truly happened?

The Two Arthur’s (with Arthur Hill)

- Virgin!Reader goes to her friends for comfort not expecting them to comfort her in such a way

George Clarkey~

Fluff:

Musicians want to be the loud voice for so many quiet hearts - Reader is a famous singer and George follows her on tour and fans speculate they’re dating.

Wedding Day Bliss~ - George Clarke marries the love of his life

Dating Headcanons for George Clarke

I'll wear your name on my heart til I die

- The turmoils and happiness that comes with giving birth

Smut:

Tummy Obsessed Much? - George's favorite body part on his girlfriend is her stomach

Wedding Night Bliss~

- A fluffy smut of the events that transpired after your and George's wedding night.

It’s Good to Be Home

- could you do a clarkey version of homecoming?

A Night In

- A perfect night in with your boyfriend is very pleasurable

It's Been Way Too Long

- “I think I'd miss you even if we never met.”

Love and Hate Are Blurred Lines

- “How would it be.. if all my hate disappeared like my youth, if after all this time his very hatred of me turned out to be something gentle, some kind of love.”

Caught Red Handed

- Who knew taking a risk could lead to this much pleasure?

So Much Restraint

ChrisMD~

Angst:

We'll Never Last

- It hurts to be something, it's worse to be nothing with you

Fluff:

Fate is in The Stars (PlusSize!Reader)

- A chance encounter at a concert leads to more than you expected

Drunk and Touchy

- Chris fluff where he's a bit tipsy and can't keep his hands off his girlfriend

I Didn't Know Punk Girls Blushed

- Golden retriever boy falls for punk grumpy girl

What If We Were More Than Friends?

- Falling in love as best friends was unexpected

Smut:

Arthur Hill~

Angst:

Brother's Flatmate

- George’s sister and Arthur can’t stand each other, right?!?

Fluff:

Am I a Burden to You?

- Arthur’s been working a lot and y/n misses him, she brings this up and he gets angry and calls her ‘clingy’ before realising he messed up and makes it up to her (angst —> soft)

Piano Nights

- Y/N and Arthur meet at a musician's party, where she spots him and confidently pursues him. They sleep together, and they end up dating, leaving Arthur in awe and a massive simp.

Dating Headcanons for Arthur Hill

Smut:

“Sex is an Emotion in Motion”

- Arthur takes care of you after a rough night in the sheets

It’s painful, loving someone from afar.

- Y/N is on holiday with all of the boys and there’s tension between Arthur hill and her, and everyone can see it and they’re just waiting for something to happen. (Soft Smut)

Homecoming

- When Arthur returns from vacation, he misses his girlfriend greatly causing things to get freaky

The Two Arthur’s (with ArthurTv)

- Virgin!Reader goes to her friends for comfort not expecting them to comfort her in such a way

A Delightful Surprise

All~

Dating Headcanons

George Clarke

Arthur Hill

ArthurTV

ChrisMD (X)

ItalianBach (X)

Featuring more than 2 of the boys~

Poker Night Never Felt So Right

ArthurTv x Reader x George Clarke x Chrismd

A game of strip poker with your friends, goes a little further than anyone expected...

Said She Wanted Five Guys She Ain’t Talking about Burgers

Reader x George, Arthur Hill, Chris, Isaac and ArthurTv

Y/n shares her sexual intentions with five YouTubers. She invites them to join her fantasy, setting no limits on their actions. The group eagerly agrees, indulging in a passionate sexual encounter as they explore Y/n's desires one by one.

A/n: Let me know if anyone would like to be added to a taglist for all imagines or certain people!

#italianbach #chrismd #arthur hill #george clarkey #arthurtv #arthurtv x reader #george clarke fics #fluff #smut #angst #british youtubers #italianbach x reader #chrismd x reader #arthur frederick #arthur hill x reader #george clarkey x reader

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fizzy-blood · 8 months ago

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Eyeless Jack Headcanons 💉🩸 [NSFW]

I just wanted to re-write my more NSFW headcanons since it's been a little while since I made them original post and I think I've improved with both my writing and my layouts. If you want some more SFW content with him (romantic, platonic or general) please feel free to ask ^_^ I hope you guys enjoy!!

WARNING: 18+/NSFW Content!! [Monster fucking (obviously), Marking, Breeding, Heats, mentions of sadism, implied cannibalism]

MY HUSBAND I LOVE HIM /hj

Jack is very awkward the first few times he had sex with someone.

Now, he isn't the most experienced with those types of interactions but that isn't why he's awkward.

He just finds it a bit odd that you'd want to do that with him... I mean... He's a literal demon.. Not someone most would want to fuck.

But he's still open to doing those things once he gets more comfortable.

Just be patient with him, he just wants to wait till later in a relationship.

But once he is comfortable? NGH-

Let's start off by saying that he is bigger than the average human.

About 8 inches long and 2 inches thick!

The tip is an inky black colour and is really shiny for some reason?

His cock also has some noticeable bumps along the bottom that feel amazing inside of you. 🤤

Jack also shaves about once a month for sanitary reasons but would be fine with shaving more often if you asked nicely.

He starts out pretty slow since he doesn't want to hurt you but once he gets into it he starts being really really rough-

He'll pin you down and scratch you up, pounding as hard as he can. (it hurts but it's worth it tbh)

He also ends up biting you a lot.

It's normally pretty light, not hurting you too much but if he's close? He'll bite hard enough to take a good chunk out of you-

Has definitely broken skin more times than either of you can count.

But the aftercare can make up for it! I promise!

But other than marking you up with scratches and bites he also likes to try and breed you..

Even if you can't get pregnant he's still gonna fill you up with all the cum he can, especially when he's in heat. It's really all he thinks about when he's in that state!

His heats can last from two days up to a week so good luck if you offer to help him <3 🥰

He might be a bit of a sadist when in heat as he acts a lot meaner and a lot more aggressive!

A LOT more.

(Thank god this man knows how to stitch you back up...)

And of course I can't talk about Jack without talking about his multiple tongues. 😌

Three long, slimy, black tongues...

So it's safe to say that he could eat you out like a 5 star meal. (eating you in both ways if you really want)

He can put two tongues inside of you and use the third to tease you. Now that's gotta be 10/10 experience!!

He's also normally on top and unless you're somehow stronger than him, (you'd probably have to be some sort of inhuman creature) if you ask as just a regular human he'll probably say no.

I'd rate this as an 11/10 (this is biased)

Aftercare ^_^

Absolutely necessary, actually needs to do things for you after sex for your sake-

He'll stitch you up and make sure you aren't bleeding or super sore.

Helps you take a quick shower or bath and then bandages you up.

Jack is also super sweet after sex and cuddles you (still being super careful and gentle) and waits till you fall asleep.

After you're asleep he either stays with you and sleeps or he gets out of bed (making sure not to wake you up) and goes out to hunt! (or just grab some food from the cooler in his room)

10/10 experience, would recommend!!

And done!! I hope you enjoyed my re-write, if you wanna see the older post you can find it on my Masterlist or by clicking Here!

Please reblog since likes don't do shit on Tumblr and feel free to send an ask as my ask box is currently open!! ^_^

-Fizz

(Eyeless Jack dividers by @sister-lucifer)

#creepypasta #creepypasta x reader #creepypasta smut #creepypasta headcanons #eyeless jack headcanon #eyeless jack #eyeless jack x reader #eyeless jack smut #eyeless jack x male reader #eyeless jack x reader smut

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jillsandwhichs · 4 months ago

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Midnight (Part Two)

Chapter 10 to Joel Miller x Reader Smutshot Collection

Masterlist ★ Midnight (Part One)

Pairing: F!Reader x Joel Miller

Summary: It has been a week since you made love with Joel. Ever since then, he's been on your mind. It's late at night and you need him; You crave him. Giving him a late night call can't be so bad, right?

Status of your guy's relationship in this one shot: Slight friends/Hookup

WC: 3.1k

Type: NSFW

Warnings: Smut — Making out, Dirty talk, Mutual masterbation, Protected P in V/Unprotected P in V, Missionary, Riding, Clit rubbing, You both finish, Breast play, Spanking, Aftercare

A/n: Hi! Hope you all enjoy. Please check out my masterlist, there's a lot of stuff there. You can get to know me, you can see the rules of my blog and then you can see all of my fanfictions. You'll be able to find the previous chapters to this fic and upcoming ones. You'll also be able to find my Wattpad & AO3. Comments, reblogs & likes are appreciated. Thank you

You glanced over at the clock. 8:45 PM. It feels like no time has passed, and not in a good way. You've been reading and studying for the past hour. You tend to overwork yourself so there's no surprise there. Still, you shouldn't. Before studying, you made yourself some dinner. It was some frozen, prepackaged dinner bowl with mashed potatoes, chicken and corn. Life has been rather uneventful.

Since exams are over with now, you haven't had much to focus on. Your mind has been all over the place but you realize it's been going somewhere rather particular repeatedly - Mr. Miller - Joel.

You haven't seen him since you stayed over at Sarah's but you've sure as hell thought about him. How could you not? The man had you ride him then he practically blew you off... Sort of... At least he gave you his number, which you did in fact hold onto. You put his digits in your phone and you two have texted but hardly. He's either working so he can't text or he's home, where he's very cautious about messaging you.

Unlocking your phone, you opened up his messages and began to re-read a few of them.

Wednesday:

"You there?"

"I'm here. What's up?"

"Just checkin' on you. Sarah showed me a photo of the two of you grabbing lunch earlier, you looked pretty."

"Thanks."

"You're welcome."

That was one thread from the other day. You two messaged a bit more as of yesterday.

Thursday:

"Joel."

"Yep?"

"I'm so horny right now."

"That so? Sorry darlin', can't do much for you, takin' Sarah out to dinner tonight. Surely you can alleviate yourself."

You remember reading that message and literally groaning to yourself.

"Seriously? Okay. Whatever."

"Don't get upset with me. Listen, stay up late enough and we can call, yeah?"

"Okay."

"Good girl."

You blushed when re-reading that specific text.

Shutting your phone off, you got up from your desk and walked over to your closet. You're still in your clothes from earlier today, the ones you wore to class. You sighed deeply as you skimmed through your closet before finally deciding on a sleepwear outfit. You chose a nightgown, but not any ordinary one. It has pink lace trim on the V neck area and on the bottom. The rest of it however is a white silky material.

It's cute. It's comfy. You removed your sweater and tossed it on your already cluttered floor. Admittedly, you haven't cleaned in awhile. You then unclasped your bra and tossed that onto the ground too, then dropped your jeans, but kept your panties on. The nightgown had a cold feel to it but you're sure your body will heat it up. You feel pretty wearing attire such as this.

You went to exit your room to begin your nighttime routine before you then stopped in your tracks, hands on the left and right edges of the door frames. What a great fucking idea. You giggled to yourself before turning around and picking up your phone, quickly unlocking it and making your way to the camera app. Joel better hope he isn't busy nor around Sarah right now, because you're about to send him a body pic.

You held the phone a bit away from your body before snapping the picture. It was sexy but not as seductive as you wished. You hummed to yourself before coming up with another idea. This one entailed you to lift your dress up, which you did with ease. You lifted the silky night down up to reveal your bottom, which your panties fit perfectly. You bit your lower lip and took the photo. Your ass looks great in it.

The ass photo paired with the body shot will be great. Hopefully it's enough to turn him on. You opened up the messaging app and sent this text along with both images, and a selfie you quickly took.

Friday:

"Missing you."

*Three attachments*

Now all you have to do is wait!

Not even a full ten minutes passed by before Joel texted you. It took you by surprise, truly.

"Where are you?"

Was his message. You cackled and kicked your feet back and fourth as you laid down on your stomach, messaging him back.

"Home. My apartment. Why?"

"You know why. What's your address?"

You giggled even more. Mission: Successful. You knew you'd be enticing enough. Quickly, you sent him your address and apartment number.

"Be there in a bit. Make sure you're ready."

You reacted to his message with a heart before getting out of bed. You spraying on some perfume, the one you know will get him going. The scent is Vanilla but it has a sweetness to it that's impossible to resist. You also gave your hair a quick brush, just to make it feel softer and appear healthier. It's hard to pin point what else you have to get done.

It is both a pro and a con that you live so close to the Miller's. Its nice because he'll be here quickly and as for Sarah, you can walk to her house and chill with her. It is a con because now you're feeling rushed and panicky. You need to just calm down. How can you though? Joel is coming over for the first time and presumably so you two can fuck. That's kind of a big deal.

Ambling out to the living room/kitchen area, you analyzed both rooms. They're decently clean and besides, you don't care either way. Your arousal is really blinding you. You wanted to get some wine out for the two of you but 1. You're sure he's a hardcore kind of guy and 2. He's definitely not planning to stay long. You're pretty much aware he's only in contact with you for sex but you don't care. It's best you'll get around these parts.

Until he gets here, you plan to relax. Lord knows you need to.

Knock, knock, knock.

He is here. You let out a deep breath before you then opened your front door. Right in front of you was Joel Miller. He smelt of leather, wood and a musky cologne. Gosh, it got you on your high horse. "Hello." "Hello?" He mocked you before chuckling and stepping into your apartment. You closed the door behind you and looked over at him. His eyes gandered your apartment with a nod.

"Do you want a drink or anything?" "Nah," he glanced over at you. "I want you." Joel stepped over and grasped your hips in his hands before he then pressed a longing and very much needed kiss to your lips. Fuck, you missed this. Your arms wrapped around his neck and his burly arms were quick to clasp you up into them. You giggled and kissed him again, this time your tounge slithered it's way into his mouth.

"Where's your bedroom?" He asked. "Just down the hall to your right." You whispered as you began to kiss his cheeks and neck. He had his hands resting on your ass as he carried you to your own bedroom. The door was slightly open and Joel used his boot to kick it open all the way. You can hardly believe it - Joel Miller is in your fucking apartment, in your personal room, about to fuck you. Prayers work.

Joel set you down on the edge of the bed and smirked. "You look pretty." He sat at your desk, removing his work boots that were quite frankly really dirty, then his shirt, leaving himself in only his jeans and socks. "Thanks." You replied. You couldn't help but stare at his chest. You want to feel it while he rails you. "Wanna do somethin' for me?" He questioned you. You simply nodded.

He got comfortable in your desk chair before chuckling. "Touch yourself." "What?" What does he mean by that? "Yeah," he groaned up, "I wanna watch you touch yourself. You got me all worked up, let me see what I want." His accent was thick then. You giggled and leaned your back against the way. "You sure?" "Am I sure?" He scoffed out. "Hun, do what I say, when I say it." Oh how you love his sternness.

You gave Joel and nod before slowly spreading your legs, revealing yourself to him. He shook his head. "Take off the damn panties." You rolled your eyes at his bossiness (Ignoring the fact it turns you on). You sighed softly and removed them, tossing them on the floor but Joel was quick to grab them, holding them in hand and occasionally sniffing them. "Gross." You murmured, now spreading your legs entirely to him.

"Now," he smiled, "Touch yourself baby." Mmm, the way he calls you that. He started to really do it over message and it was one of many ways he turned you on. You obliged though, and with haste. Your hand went down to that sweet spot between your legs before you then started to touch yourself. You slowly rubbed your clit and looked at Joel, occasionally looking away due to embarrassment but nonetheless, you treaded on.

The older man looks like a dog in heat. All he's doing is just sitting there and staring at you. Admittedly, that makes you feel sexier than you probably actually are. To have your best friends dad this locked in with you is a good feeling though. You picked up the pace in which you rubbed yourself, which earned a moan out of you. Joel whispered "Fuck." Underneath his breath before he pulled his rock hard dick out of his stained work jeans.

You watched as he began to rub himself too. Up & down his hand went as he gazed at you. Slowly but surely, you slipped a finger inside of you, then two, emerging them in and out of your hole as he got the full entertainment of it. "That's a good girl, jus' like that." Joel said to you in a deep, needy tone. You smiled as you looked into his eyes, your eyebrows contorting and your moans evident. He's so into this - that's beyond attractive.

On his length, you could see where precum once was. You must've got him really going. You began to touch yourself in a more erotic way, your other hand now grasping your tit and your teeth biting your lower lip - you knew how this would make Joel feel. "Shit baby, stop." He pumped himself a few more times before letting go and breathing deeply. "I can't cum yet." He then stood up and pulled his jeans down all the way, but firstly taking a condom out.

"Lay back." You listened. Your back hit your soft bed and Joel climbed on top of you, pinning you below him. "You smell good." He complimented you before burying his face in your neck, kissing it & sucking on it, sure to be leaving marks. "You do too... Oddly enough." You giggled at your own remark, but you quickly began to moan as his suckles became more intense.

Your hands ran through his hair before you pulled him back up to kiss you. Your lips pressed to his and you breathed in deeply, your mouth opening slightly, allowing his tounge to enter your mouth. The way your guy's tounges intertwined was so hot, it made you pulse down there. You wrapped your legs around his waist and cupped his face in your hands. "Fuck." You whimpered. "What is it darlin'?" He asked you in a soft tone, though you knew he was being cocky.

"I want you... I need you inside of me so please just-" but your begging wasn't needed for long. Joel was quick to shove a condom on his cock before he then entered you, stilling himself as he did. "Oh shit." You wrapped your arms around his neck, hiding your face as best as you could. "Still so tight." He gasped before kissing your cheek and head. "You're ok." He murmured before he began to move into you slowly but with long, deep strokes.

It felt so good. He moves into you with such skill. Of course he does though, he has experience. You moaned and whimpered beneath him as his slight thrusts were somehow already destroying you. You wonder if all the longing for him is finally catching up to you. "This past week has been fuckin' torture." He grunted as he moved into you. "All I been wantin' to do was make love to you." He added on.

He has? That makes you feel better. The way he talks to you during sex is like nothing you've seen before - but you aren't complaining. "I've wanted you Joel." You whispered before kissing him softly, a sharp breath being heard coming from him. "I know doll, trust me, I know." You felt that sly smirk go across his lips and you wanted to scoff and smack him right then and there but you couldn't - all you could do was let him destroy you.

His pace picked up and his thrusts became more sloppy and erratic. "You're so tight, Christ." He grunted as he pounded into you. You unwrapped your legs and moaned loudly as his pumps were so much more pleasure inducing now. His hands grabbed yours before he then pinned them down above your head with one hand, his other trailing down between your legs. "I'm gonna make you feel so good." He said softly before kissing your forehead.

His fingers started to play with your clit, and that's when you knew you'd be finishing real quick. It was sensitive, that entire are was. As you squirmed, Joel didn't stop, his fingers only moved faster. Him rubbing you mixed with his thrusts was too much. "I'm gonna cum." You moaned out as your eyes closed and back began to arch. "That'a girl, cum for me baby." He said in a low, deep voice before pressing a kiss to your forehead.

As you came, you tightened around him and that finished Joel off too. "Fuck." He pounded into you so hard as he finished, his fingers never letting up on your nub. You gripped the brown sheets beneath you as your orgasm flooded your brain, body and soul - it was an excellent one. He was quick to now stop rubbing you and instead, grabbing you and hugging you gently, encasing you in his big arms as you finished. You didn't expect that, honestly.

You kept your arms on his shoulders and your legs around his torso. His hand was on the back of your head, caressing your hair and his other around your back. "You did so well." He stated before looking into your eyes, cupping your face and kissing you. You kissed him back and began to roll your hips against him again, feeling him get hard inside of you. "What are you doin'?" "You know what I'm doing." You then pulled him out of you and took his condom off, tossing it into your floor. "Just pull out."

"Baby, c'mon, I'm outta commission." He snickered as you fully sat on his lap now, his back against your wall. "Are you though." You began to pump him in your hand, instantly getting him fully hard again. "Fuck." He groaned and squeezed your ass before spanking you. You sat down on his cock and whimpered softly, placing your hands upon his shoulders as you began to bounce on him with a speed that he didn't expect so soon.

His hands remained on your ass as you rode him. You giggled and tilted your head back, letting your hair flow out and your tits jiggle excessively. He smirked and grabbed one, wrapping his mouth around it and slurping his tounge all over. You snickered and pet his head as he did, kissing the top of it too. "Love these things." He said starkly before switching to the other and sucking on your nipple. It felt so good and somehow the sensation was being felt in your pulsing cunt - Joel is like a pro at this shit.

Inside of you, you felt him twitch but you didn't stop. "God, it feels so good." You moaned before kissing him again, your tounge greedily moving with his. He gripped your ass tightly and occasionally slapped it as you rode him, making sure you felt it real good. "Still so wet." He glanced down at his dick that had your juices coating it. "That's so fuckin' hot." He then began to kiss your neck and shoulders, his hands now on your hips.

"I feel like I'm gonna... Oh shit." You moaned as you felt your orgasm overcome you once again. "Shit, up, baby up." He grabbed your hips and you pulled him out of you, his cum spewing onto your lower stomach. Joel panted and snickered, kissing the side of your face, then your ear. He came down from his high a lot quicker than you did. You can't even recall the last time you had two orgasms in the span of five minutes.

You plopped back onto your bed and sighed softly, pulling your blanket over you. He smiled and set a hand over your covered thigh. "Did I break you?" "Mhm." You nodded and closed your eyes. The man fucked you to sleep. You are wore out. He chuckled deeply and left a kiss on your cheek. "I gotta go then." Joel stood up and quickly got dressed; Truthfully, you watched the whole time. "Okay." You whispered.

Joel stepped closer to your bed and kneeled down to meet your eye level. "Come stay over again soon, maybe I'll find a way to weasel you into my room." He winked and kissed you softly. He stood up and right as he was about to exit, you sat up. "Joel." He turned around. "Yeah?" "Do you still have my panties?" He snorted and nodded. "Delicious girl... Yep, I do." "Oh..." You never seen him smile so genuinely before. "They are mine now." He then closed your bedroom door and left.

The next morning, you woke up with a pounding headache and your legs felt extremely wobbly. You decided to send him a message, despite it being only nine am.

Saturday

"I'm broken."

Not even minutes later, he responded.

"That's the Joel Miller affect for you baby."

"Cocky motherfucker." You laughed to yourself before setting your phone down and finishing your breakfast.

#tumblr fyp #the last of us #tlou #joel miller #pedro pascal #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal smut #joel miller smut #romance #smut

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bellaxgiornata · 10 months ago

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The Devil at Your Window |8: Interruptions|

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader Word count: 5.3k [Series Masterlist]

Warnings/Tags: 18+; fluff, flirting, sexual tension, light angst, pining, eventual smut, identity reveal, and lots of black suit Matty

a/n: The installment featuring the Devil’s ass. Yes, you read that right. Feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!

Tag list: @danzer8705 @darkened-writer @keepingitlokiii @kezibear @dorothleah @sarahskywalker-amidala @1988-fiend @haruari @sleepysleepymom @marveious @sunflower-tia @fizanotfeeza @cloudroomblog @babygirlmurdock @writtenbyred @idontevenknow1359 @scriptedmoon @sarraa-26 @barnes21cz @loves0phelia @3sriracha @kmc1989 @midnightramble @marissamejia19

Reaching into the laundry basket, you withdrew another pair of your clean panties. Placing it atop the growing pile of the others on your bed, you continued to sort and fold your clothes. But as your hands mechanically worked, sorting everything into the correct piles quickly overtaking your bed, your mind wandered to the second date you’d had with Dylan last night.

The pair of you had gone out for sushi. You’d enjoyed the dinner with him and were excited to have found a new restaurant you'd considered visiting again. You’d also been happy to see that the conversation between you both had still flowed just as easily as the last time you'd met him at Josie’s. There hadn't been a single awkward moment and he'd even gotten you laughing hard a handful of times.

The second date with Dylan had truly gone well last night. So well in fact that Dylan had even asked about setting up a third date with you before you both had parted ways for the evening. But the only thing you couldn’t seem to shake, which was the reason you’d hesitated on finalizing those third date plans, was how you’d felt when Dylan had kissed you last night.

He'd asked you for permission before actually going in for the kiss and you’d readily given it to him, having admittedly felt a little giddy at the prospect of someone wanting to actually follow through with kissing you. Plus it was sweet that he had asked because you'd personally never experienced anyone asking permission before. You'd thought it was a bit romantic–until he’d actually leaned in and kissed you. Because you’d felt nothing. You might as well have been kissing the sushi you’d eaten for dinner for all the sexual chemistry you’d felt in that moment because there hadn’t been any.

The lack of that spark between you both had been bothering you ever since last night. So when you’d been at lunch earlier at work and received a cute text from Dylan about how much fun he’d had last night, you’d been hit with a sinking feeling in your stomach instead of butterflies. All because of that kiss. In the end, you’d managed to once more skirt around the topic of a third date when you’d replied to him, feeling like you needed more time to make sense of your jumbled feelings, but you’d still felt guilty for doing so. Because Dylan was admittedly a good guy. You didn’t want to lead him on, but you also wanted to make sure this relationship was right for you, too.

And right now, you weren’t entirely certain it was.

Was it enough that Dylan seemed like a level-headed guy with a stable job and good manners? Someone who treated you well and had a lot in common with you? Maybe the kiss had only felt off because it was a first kiss and you were both nervous. Surely he deserved a third date and a second chance to redeem himself with his kissing, right?

But if you were being honest with yourself, a big part of you knew it was because the sexual chemistry between you and Dylan was nothing like how it was between you and the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen–who you still hadn’t seen since the other night when he’d shown up after your first date. Though you'd noticed that he’d certainly still been visiting your Devil’s Pantry a few times this week.

Was it ridiculous and foolish to hope for a relationship that had the same level of chemistry that you felt with the Devil? Could you even find that sort of a spark so easily with someone else? Because you certainly never had before. The man could get your heart racing with just a smile, you couldn’t even imagine how it would feel if he ever actually kissed you. Or how you’d feel if his hands ever lost those gloves and touched you in far less friendly ways than you were used to, especially hearing that smokey voice of his whispering ‘angel’ into your ear as he did.

Pausing with a shirt in your hands, you found yourself growing heated at just your line of thinking. Feeling a little warm, you cleared your throat and shook your head, trying to shake those thoughts from your mind. But your thoughts alone had proven your point–just thinking about the Devil had you hot and bothered. Unfortunately for Dylan, you couldn’t quite say the same for him.

It appeared that you had your answer then. Maybe if the Devil wasn’t in your life in whatever capacity he was lately, things might’ve been able to progress further with Dylan. You might’ve been open to giving him more of a chance. But you were still so hopelessly attracted to the Devil that it seemed as if no one else currently stood a chance against him. And that wasn’t fair for Dylan to have to compete against the masked man. He was a good guy, he deserved someone who was really putting themselves fully into a relationship with him. You supposed you’d have to reach out to him and let him know that you weren’t feeling up to a third date tomorrow.

Three loud knocks from the other room broke through your train of thoughts. Setting down the bra in your hands on your bed, you glanced over your shoulder as a hopeful smile spread across your lips. Had the Devil decided to actually visit you tonight? You’d been dying to see him again ever since he’d abruptly disappeared in the middle of what you were certain had almost been a kiss between you both for what would’ve been the second time now. Ever since that moment, you’d been questioning whether or not he’d been acting jealous because of your date when he’d shown up.

Was it possible he may not have even realized his own feelings? Or that he was intentionally trying to ignore them? You’d been wondering if there was some way that you could help him acknowledge those feelings if they existed, some way to nudge him a bit closer to you and further out of his head. You’d eventually come to the conclusion that maybe if you flirted more openly in return with him instead of letting him so easily fluster you all the time, then you’d possibly get a clearer answer for yourself. Maybe then you could see how he reacted and get a better idea if there was something more going on between you both.

You’d also wondered if there was a chance he might actually kiss you the next time you saw him. After all, he’d been so close to doing it twice now, was it so hard to think you might find yourself in the situation for a third time? Though you tried hard to not get your hopes so high because the disappointment from the previous two times he’d pulled away from you still stung.

Rushing out of your bedroom without a care for the laundry still lying sorted on your bed, you made your way down the short hall and immediately spotted the Devil standing outside of your window. As you hurried over, the memory of your second almost kiss still fresh in your mind, you felt your heart accelerate at the smile on his masked face.

Wasting no time, you flung the window open once you’d reached it before stepping aside and allowing him to enter your apartment. Mentally you reminded yourself to keep your thoughts in check now that he was actually here–especially if you didn't want to get flustered attempting to flirt with him. You needed a fairly clear head to focus on how he reacted.

“You know, it still wasn’t locked,” you told him.

“Well,” the Devil replied, lips twisting into a faint grimace as he slipped through the opening, “it seems rude to just barge into your place uninvited.”

“Hasn’t stopped you from doing it a few times already,” you pointed out.

With him finally inside, you closed the window and shut the cold of the night back out of your apartment once more. Eyeing the thin material of his black shirt as you turned back around, you yet again wondered how he survived running around the rooftops in the freezing cold dressed in so little. Even with spring drawing nearer, it was still far too cold for his wardrobe choice. You wished you could give the man a coat, but you figured you’d have to settle on offering him a blanket and a chance to warm up inside.

But as you’d been surveying his outfit, you noticed how he’d immediately taken a step backwards to lean up against the wall behind himself. He was breathing hard, his chest visibly heaving in that tight black shirt. Concern hit you at the sight despite the strange smile currently drawing itself across his mouth.

“Are you okay?” you asked him. “You look like you’re favoring your right side. Did something happen to you tonight?”

“Something generally happens to me every night I go out like this,” he joked, sounding partially out of breath. “But to answer your question–yes.”

You took a step towards him, becoming entirely serious despite his weird habit of continually making light of his injuries. Eyes darting around his body, you tried hard to find one. But as you openly searched him, you couldn’t see a single wound.

And that’s when you heard him laugh.

The sound drew your eyes up to his masked face, your lips curving into a frown. There was an amused smile on his mouth now, one that had your eyes narrowing. Why did he always react so abnormally to being hurt? Usually when people were in pain they didn't laugh about it.

“It’s nothing quite so serious as the last time,” he assured you, still leaning against the wall. “Though it’s…perhaps a bit embarrassing. Which was partly why I was hoping to stop by your place, and why I’m uh…hopeful that you might be willing to help me once again, angel.”

“Help you how?” you asked cautiously. “As in you need a bandaid? Or would you like me to finally call you an ambulance?”

He chuckled again, shifting a little against the wall as he did. But you caught how he winced at the movement and your frown deepened.

“Something more along the lines of the first one,” he answered. “But uh…there’s a bit of a catch.”

Head immediately turning curiously to the side at his comment, your eyes narrowed further. “What do you mean?” you asked. “What sort of catch?”

The Devil ducked his head, the amused smile on his lips remaining. “Well, besides being in need of a rather large bandage, I was wondering if perhaps you might have…a needle and thread? Or possibly some duct tape?”

“What?” you asked in disbelief. “Wait, you’re not asking me to stitch you up are you? Because I’m absolutely not qualified to do that. And you know what?” you continued. “I don’t think duct tape works in the place of stitches. Honestly, it sounds like I should just call–”

While you’d been speaking, the Devil had pushed his body off of the wall. The amused grin had never left his mouth, even as his head had remained ducked almost sheepishly towards his chest. But as you’d continued talking, about to remind him of his friend that was a nurse and far better suited to help with an injury that needed stitches, you saw him begin to turn around. And that was when you spotted his injury, the sight of it instantly stopping anymore words from falling out of your mouth. Truthfully, the unexpected and surprising sight of his bare left ass cheek had left your brain entirely devoid of all thoughts for a moment.

The back of his dark pants had been sliced wide open across his ass, and whatever had done the slicing had also managed to tear through not just his boxers, but his skin as well. There was a few inch long bloody gash diagonally across his left cheek, which had at first caused you to gasp in surprise. But admittedly you’d grown silent soon after because you could see one entire round, firm ass cheek on full display. The blood and the cut hardly mattered when you were staring at half of his bare ass right now.

And goddamn did it look perky and tight.

The Devil’s head spun over his shoulder, a grin still on his lips. You could see it from the corner of your eye, but your attention was still very much focused on his ass. Though when you heard his amused laughter again, you at least had the grace to feel a little embarrassed before your gaze returned to his masked face.

“Did you notice the actual reason I asked for a bandage and tape while you were staring at my ass?” he teased. “Or have you forgotten why you were even looking at it in the first place, angel?”

Clearing your throat, you shook your head and tried to clear your thoughts. But when you spoke again, it honestly took all of your willpower not to stare back down at his ass.

“I’m sorry,” you replied, still trying to gather your thoughts, “I wasn’t exactly expecting half of your ass to greet me when you spun around, Devil. You could have at least warned me first.”

“Oh?” he asked, his head tilting to the side. “My ass needs a warning now does it?”

Remembering how you’d wanted to try to flirt more openly with him to see if he’d stop holding himself back, you figured he’d just now presented you with the perfect opportunity to start.

“You know what? Yes, yes it does,” you stated boldly. “I mean have you seen your ass, Devil? Did you have to sell your soul for that thing? Because that’s definitely not your average ass.”

He barked out a loud, surprised laugh at your response. Your attention brazenly returned to his bare cheek, admiring it despite the injury. It truly was unfair the body the masked man had beneath his clothes. Especially considering how often you found yourself getting private viewings of it without being able to actually appreciate any part of him.

“Wasn’t expecting that response out of you this evening,” he confessed once his laughter had subsided. “But I was hoping you’d have some way to help me temporarily mend my pants. Strong tape would suffice until I got home. Admittedly it’s quite breezy on the rooftops like this.”

The Devil turned back around towards you as he spoke, ruining your unobstructed view of his ass. Though you had a feeling you’d be helping him with it soon enough.

“I would say it’s probably embarrassing to have a criminal catch you running around like that,” you began, “but honestly I feel like it’s somehow more intimidating.”

His head tilted to the side, the corner of his lips tugging up into a smirk beneath his mask. “You think I’m somehow more intimidating being caught quite literally with my ass out?” he asked. “How do you possibly figure that?”

“Because,” you answered, “that thing is impressive. And now you have me wondering…if you’ve got those yoga healing powers of yours, does that mean you could stop a bullet with that?”

Another amused laugh spilled forth out of the Devil as you pointed to his ass. You couldn’t resist smiling at the warm sound of his laughter filling your apartment. You'd missed him over the past few days and were glad to have him back here and in a good mood this time. Tonight he was acting like he usually did when he stopped by instead of the sour mood he’d been in last time.

“Did you really just ask me if I could stop a bullet with my ass, angel?” he asked, grinning wide.

“Yeah, I did,” you confidently teased back. “Considering what else you can do, I wouldn’t be surprised.”

“I can’t say that I’ve ever tried,” he told you, “but I’m thinking the answer is ‘no’.” He jutted his chin out towards you, the smile never leaving his mouth. “You seem in a good mood tonight,” he observed. “More forward than I remember you being, too. Any reason for that?”

You shrugged in response. Of course you weren’t going to tell him the newest theory you had made about the Devil. The one where you believed he might actually have developed feelings for you.

“Just happy to see my favorite stray,” you answered. “Even if you showed up a little worse for wear tonight. Speaking of,” you continued, the smile slipping off your face, “did you actually need stitches? Because in all seriousness, I cannot give you stitches. I have no idea how to do that.”

The Devil shook his head, a small smile still lingering along his lips. “No,” he told you. “No stitches tonight. Though I wouldn’t mind a giant bandage if you have one. Maybe something for the cut because I’d like to avoid an infection.”

“Certainly wouldn’t want to ruin your ass,” you muttered under your breath, noticing the way his smile curved a bit higher. “But I did buy some other first aid supplies the other week, so you’re in luck, Devil,” you told him. “I might actually have an adhesive bandage big enough to cover that. And I may have some packing tape somewhere in the kitchen that could temporarily fix your torn pants problem, too.”

“I’d very much appreciate that,” he replied.

“Let me just grab my first aid kit then,” you said.

Stepping past him, you made your way towards your bathroom and refrained from peeking over your shoulder to get a glimpse of his bare ass. Something told you that he’d know if you did.

Entering your bathroom, you bent down and opened the bottom of your vanity in search of the navy towel you’d used the last time you cleaned his blood off of him. As you grabbed it from among the stack of towels under your sink, the thought of using it now to wash off his ass had you once again feeling a little warm. You didn’t doubt that you’d be thinking about touching it later in a far less innocent way than just helping him with a cut.

You grabbed the first aid kit from beneath your sink next before standing back up and taking a moment to wet the towel under the bathroom faucet. Afterwards, you made your way back out of the bathroom with both items in hand.

In your living room you found the Devil still leaning against your wall where you'd left him. He silently watched you make your way past him through the room, tracking your steps with his masked face just as he’d done the time he’d been here sitting on your couch not that long ago.

Licking your lips, you couldn’t shake the nerves you felt under his attention despite your boldness with him this evening. Somehow it never took much for him to fluster you, even when you’d been actively trying not to be so easily flustered tonight. But knowing you'd be rubbing blood off of his ass before applying ointment and a bandage in a few minutes certainly wasn't helping your heart rate.

“So,” you said, clearing your throat as you stopped at your little kitchen table, setting down and opening the first aid kit, “before I bandage your cut, I should…probably clean the blood off of it first. Sort of defeats the purpose of using Neosporin and a bandage otherwise.”

“Makes sense,” he easily agreed.

You glanced over at him, chewing your lip as you tried to figure out the best way to accomplish your task. He couldn't exactly sit down, which sort of left you the only option of kneeling at ass height to see what you were doing. Biting down particularly hard on your lip, you tried to control your body’s reaction to that realization, but as the Devil continued silently watching you from across the room, you saw the smile on his mouth grow visibly cocky.

He was enjoying this.

“Alright, well I'm going to need you to come here if you want help,” you told him, trying to disregard that smile on his face.

Slowly he pushed off the wall in one fluid movement, that self-satisfied smile permanently taking residence on his mouth. Swallowing hard, you tried to push down the nervous energy within you that threatened to grow with every one of his approaching steps. If you were going to be successful in your attempts to be more bold with him this evening while trying to gauge his reaction to you, this situation would be yet another opportunity. You just needed to try to play it cool.

The Devil came to a stop just a foot before you, his head tilting to the side in silent question when he did. Summoning all of your confidence, you squared your shoulders and arched a brow at him before gesturing to your table with a hand.

“Well, what are you waiting for? Bend over, Devil,” you ordered.

His lips parted in something almost like surprise for a brief moment, though he didn’t actually respond. Instead, his mouth closed once more as he recovered and that cocky smile returned to it before he turned away from you. You watched as he placed both of his gloved hands flat along your small dining table before he bent over, sticking his wounded and partially visible ass out towards you.

Once more wishing you were in a vastly different situation with him in which you weren't offering him some form of medical assistance, you lowered down to your knees behind him. But you hesitated with the damp towel in your hand because you were quite literally face to face with the Devil of Hell’s Kitchens’ ass. The ass you’d certainly observed a time or two in grainy photographs–especially after having met him. And now it was so close you could realistically lean forward and bite it.

Not that you were going to do that right now, of course.

You hadn’t even begun wiping the blood from his wounded ass before you heard him release an amused huff. You frowned in response, eyes flickering up to the back of his head before returning to his exposed left cheek.

“What?” you asked.

Bringing the towel finally down to his skin, you began to wash off the blood. But you also couldn’t help impressively noting that his ass–even through the damp cloth–felt as firm as it looked.

“Nothing,” he replied lightly. “Just seems like you’re a little distracted back there.”

You rolled your eyes, trying hard to remain focused on cleaning the blood and not the way the tip of one of your fingers had just grazed his bare skin. His ass was quite smooth.

“How’d you manage to get this, by the way?” you asked, trying to distract yourself. “Dodging a knife?”

He let out a chuckle, shaking his masked head above you. You caught the movement out of the corner of your eye, but your attention remained on the last few traces of blood that you were cleaning off of him. As you did, you noticed that he was right, this cut didn’t look remotely that bad now that it wasn't smeared in blood.

“No, actually,” he confessed. “I was trying to climb up a building. Lost my footing and fell down one floor before quite unfortunately landing on my ass on something sharp. Tore right through my pants, as you can see.”

You winced as you reached over, setting the damp, bloodied towel down on your table. “Ouch.”

Picking up the tube of Neosporin from your first aid kit, you twisted the cap off of it before focusing back on his ass. Chewing the inside of your cheek, you realized you’d have to apply it with your fingertip. Which meant touching his ass. His very, very tight, muscular ass.

Above you the Devil shifted, gazing down at you from over his shoulder. A shudder ran up your spine when he grinned knowingly beneath that mask. As if he'd somehow been able to read your mind.

“Something wrong?” he asked.

“No,” you answered far too quickly.

Blinking hard a few times, you tore your eyes away from his ass which was still just half a foot away from your face and began to squeeze some of the ointment out of the tube and onto your finger. Internally you cursed the masked man for not getting flustered nearly as easily as you. And for somehow always seemingly reading your mind–particularly when you were having inappropriate thoughts.

“Almost done back here,” you informed him, trying to sound more calm than you felt. “Then I can find the packing tape for your pants.”

Sucking in a breath as your bottom lip caught between your teeth, you reached your index finger out towards the cut on his ass. Trying hard to prevent your hand from noticeably trembling, you very gently applied the ointment along the length of the gash. But halfway through the application you hesitated, your eyes flickering upwards when you noticed the Devil's entire body had stiffened at your touch. Quirking a brow at him curiously, you wondered what that had been about.

With the ointment applied, you reached over and grabbed the damp towel from off of your table. Rising to your feet, you wiped the Neosporin off your finger and onto the cloth before setting it back down. Then you plucked a rather large bandage out of your first aid kit and began to open the packaging.

“How’s that guy you’re seeing?”

Your hands paused what they were doing at the unexpected question, your eyes slowly rising from the half-opened bandage in your hand to the Devil still bent in half in front of you. His hands had curled into fists along your kitchen table, his masked face focused straight ahead at the window. His jaw was set firm, a muscle jumping in the part of his cheek that you could see. You certainly hadn’t thought he'd be asking about Dylan right now.

And there's your answer , you thought. He’s jealous. It's obvious. Use that to your advantage.

Clearing your throat, your attention returned to the bandage in your hands. You finished tearing it open before reaching your hands out and lining it up with his wound.

“He’s good,” you replied. “We actually had a second date last night.”

The Devil grew tense beneath your touch as your hand lightly smoothed the bandage over his ass. You could feel your pulse quickening at his reaction. Had that been due to your touch? Or to the fact that you’d gone on another date? You weren’t entirely certain.

“I hope he took you somewhere better than a dive bar this time,” the Devil retorted.

“We went out for sushi,” you told him.

With his cut now bandaged, you turned and made your way into the kitchen. You were certain you still had packing tape in your junk drawer by the sink from when you'd moved in here months ago.

“I take it that your second date went well, too?” he asked.

You pulled the junk drawer open and paused, your hand hovering over it. That had certainly sounded a lot like jealousy. Especially because you'd heard the way he had asked the question through very obviously gritted teeth.

“It did,” you answered slowly, finally grabbing the packing tape out of the drawer. “We even kissed.”

Something like a soft hiss came from between his teeth from across the room. You fought to keep the smile off of your mouth, your teeth biting down on your lip once more at the sound. If you were being honest, you sort of liked his jealousy. Certainly far too much to want to tell him the actual truth about that kiss and how you weren’t planning to continue things with Dylan. You found yourself wanting to enjoy his jealousy just a bit longer.

“So it turns out I do have some tape,” you told him, returning to where the Devil remained bent at your table. “I can use it to fix your pants. I imagine it should hold long enough for you to get back home.”

“Thank you,” he replied, voice tight.

You pulled a large strip of tape out from the dispenser in your hand, the sound sharp and loud in your apartment. Tearing off the length of tape with one hand, your other began to gently draw both pieces of his torn pants back together.

“So how was it?” he asked.

Brows furrowing together, you very carefully began adhering the tape up the length of his torn pants, slowly sealing them somewhat back together. “What?” you asked, distracted.

“The kiss?” he prompted. “With that guy?”

Your eyes darted up to the back of his head, briefly staring at the dark brown hair that was noticeable beneath his mask. You’d often tried to imagine what it might feel like to pull the mask from off of his head and run your fingers through those dark strands.

“It uh, it wasn’t like any other kiss I’ve had before,” you answered. “I can say that.”

The Devil ducked his head, but as he did you caught how his nostrils flared sharply. You'd barely finished taping his pants together before he roughly pushed off of your kitchen table, turning around to face you. That tension in his body was back along with the same hardness that he’d had when you’d encountered him after your first date. Feeling entirely validated in that moment, you’d opened your mouth to finish your thought. You figured maybe now you should tell him the truth–that the kiss hadn’t been any good. That you’d immediately thought of him afterwards. How you wished he’d just kissed you the other night when he’d had the chance.

But before you could make a sound, your phone’s ringtone went off on the counter behind you. Startled at the noise, you jumped on the spot before glancing over your shoulder. The caller ID showed Dylan’s name on the screen and your heart pounded a little unevenly at the sight. Of course he’d somehow call late and ruin this moment.

“I shouldn’t take up anymore of your time this evening,” the Devil said.

Your head darted back towards him in time to see him making his way over to your window. You reached a hand out after him, ignoring the phone still ringing behind you.

“Wait!” you called out.

He stopped only when he reached your window, his head gesturing towards your ringing phone. “That him?” he asked.

You pulled a face, glancing back at your phone behind you before focusing back on the Devil. “Yes, but what’s that–”

“Thank you for helping me tonight,” he said in a clipped tone. “I’ll leave so that you can take his call.”

He roughly shoved your window up before slipping through it with a cat-like grace that you’d long come to admire. But just as quickly as he’d opened it, he was slamming it shut behind himself with a sharp bang . Your mind barely had a chance to register anything before he was already throwing himself over the railing of your fire escape, leaving you standing confused in your kitchen.

Frustration hit you instantly once your ringtone stopped, silence now settling around you in the apartment. You shouldn’t have been toying with the Devil like that, no matter how much you’d enjoyed his jealousy. Because now you’d just lost the chance to clear the air with him and you weren’t exactly sure when you’d have the opportunity again.

Because what if he never came back?

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock #Daredevil

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