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#could have been looking at myself for all I know
maxtermind · 2 days
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“your opinion of me won't change, right?” + lando (who kinda has a fuckboy reputation but fell for the reader)
“your opinion of me won't change, right?”
( event masterlist \ main masterlist \ drop a request ) ★:summary:: the one where a fuckboy gets turned into a loverboy? ★:feat:: lando norris x reader ★:genre:: hurt/comfort
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the knock on your door comes around midnight when you're almost going to bed. you don’t expect anyone, especially not him.
for a second, you stand still, unsure of what to do with heart thudding. but the persistent rapping doesn’t stop, and despite the days of silence between you two, you already know who it is.
when you swing the door open, lando stumbles in, his shoulders slumped, eyes clouded with alcohol and something darker. his hair is a mess, damp from the rain, and he reeks of whiskey and regret.
“y/n,” he breathes out, almost as if he’s relieved to see you. but you’re not relieved at all. you’re angry, confused, and hurt and looking at him really hit you so hard that you had to squeeze the ends of your his t-shirt to not stumble.
you close the door behind him, and he sways unsteadily. he’s drunk—drunker than you’ve ever seen him. his clothes are disheveled, his usual cool confidence replaced by something pitiful, something raw.
"lando, what the hell are you doing here?" your voice is sharp, meant to sting, because his presence alone already rips at the wounds that haven't even started healing yet.
he doesn’t answer right away. instead, he looks at you with those familiar blue eyes, the same ones that once made you weak in the knees, but now… they just bring back the pain. his lips tremble as if he’s about to say something, but he doesn’t.
"you—" lando slurs slightly, stepping forward, hands outstretched. "you weren't… supposed to leave. you—" it washed over you like a bucket of cold water and you're already moving away from his touch.
"don't." your voice cracks, and you hate how fragile you sound. you take another step back, putting more space between you two. "don’t come here like this again."
lando rubs his face, pacing around your small living room slowly, stumbling over air. he’s spiraling, trying to collect his thoughts, but the alcohol muddles his brain and you can see the struggle on his face.
“i didn’t mean to… i didn’t want you to leave,” he mutters. he turns to you, desperation in his eyes. "i messed up, okay? i know that. but i… fuck, i’m trying, y/n."
you cross your arms, every muscle tense. "trying? you’re drunk, lando. that’s not trying."
his face crumples at your words, and he stumbles back, this time collapsing onto the couch like his legs can’t hold him up anymore. his hands run through his hair, pulling at it in frustration, in agony.
you vividly remember what happened a few nights ago when a girl texted him asking if he was up for 'another' great night. it wasn't easy being with someone while knowing he could have anyone in the entire world and with his past, you were already always on the edge of letting your insecurities out.
it just led to a bigger argument where instead of assuring you how you were the only one he ever wanted, he asked you to either start trusting him or leave.
so you left.
"do you know how much i fucking hate myself?" his voice is hoarse now, barely above a whisper, but the rawness in it cuts through you like a knife as it brings you back to the present. "i tried to be better for you. i… i tried."
you swallow the lump forming in your throat, trying to stay firm, but it’s hard. it's always been hard with him. "you have a funny way of showing it."
he lifts his head slowly, tears brimming in his eyes now, and the sight is enough to make your resolve crack just a little. you've never seen him cry before. not like this.
“your opinion of me won’t change, right?” his voice breaks, and you freeze. the vulnerability in his question sends a jolt of pain straight to your chest. he sounds small, defeated, like the weight of everything he’s been carrying has finally crushed him.
“lando…” you whisper, but he doesn’t let you finish.
"because everyone else—" he pauses, taking in a shaky breath. "they all think they know me? that i’m just some… some asshole who doesn’t care, who’s not capable of… anything real? but i’m not. i’m not, y/n. you know that, right?"
the room feels heavy, like the air is thickening with every word. you want to say something, to tell him that you believed in him once, that you saw the good in him, the real lando, but it’s not that simple anymore.
"i fell for you," he says, voice trembling, eyes glistening as he stares up at you like you're the only thing that can save him. with the rapid blinking of his eyes, tears start to fall and so does your resolve. "i wish i didn’t put you through this, but i did. and i didn’t know how to be that guy… the one you deserved. but i tried. i’m still trying."
it’s quiet for a moment, just the sound of his ragged breathing and your heartbeat pounding in your ears.
you look at him, really look at him. his face is flushed from the alcohol and the tears, but beneath that, you see something more. he’s broken in ways you never let yourself see before.
all the cockiness, the bravado, the charm—it was all just a shield. he never thought he was good enough for you either, and maybe that’s why you left. you repeat it to yourself but it was a losing war.
the old lando wouldn’t be here, in front of you, crying and baring his soul. he wouldn’t have admitted any of this. isn't that reason enough to give him another chance?
he was selfish before, reckless, hiding behind his reputation as the playboy, the fun guy who never cared too deeply about anything. but now, now you see the cracks. you see the vulnerability he’s tried so hard to bury and it kills you to give in but the words leave you before you can stop yourself.
"i thought you didn’t care," you admit softly, feeling all your defenses start to crumble. "that’s why i left, lando. i didn’t think you could care."
"i fucking love you," he lets out a bitter laugh, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. not believing what you were saying at all. "i care too fucking much. i just… maybe i don’t know how to show it right."
you sigh, sitting down beside him on the couch, still keeping a little distance between you. "it’s not about showing it right. it’s about showing it at all."
he looks at you, his gaze softer now, more open. "i’m sorry. i know i’ve been… i know i fucked up. but i’m… i love you, y/n. i really fucking love you. and i didn’t know how much until you weren’t there."
his words hang in the air, and for the first time in weeks, you don’t feel anger or hurt. you just feel… sad. sad for him, sad for you, sad for all the misunderstandings that led you here.
you reach out, gently brushing a lock of his hair from his forehead. he closes his eyes at the touch, leaning into it like he’s starved for your touch. he probably is because so are you.
"i’ve changed," he murmurs, his voice thick with exhaustion. "i swear loving you has changed me."
you don’t respond right away. instead, you lean forward and press a soft, lingering kiss to his forehead. his skin is warm beneath your lips, and the simple gesture feels more intimate than anything you’ve ever shared before.
when you pull back, lando looks at you through heavy-lidded eyes, his emotions raw and exposed. "i love you too," he mumbles, his voice barely audible, like he’s falling asleep or slipping into a dream where things are better, where you’re together again.
you don’t know what’s going to happen next, or if you can really fix what’s broken between you. but for the first time in a long while, you feel like maybe… just maybe, you can try.
and maybe this time, it’ll be different.
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©maxtermind // do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platforms.
★:a/n:: thanks for the request love! feedback and reblogs are appreciated :3
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gurugirl · 1 day
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Truth or Dare | slumber party!h
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Summary: Y/n's coworker, Harry, has never been to a slumber party so she decides to remedy that and give him a sleepover he'll never forget.
A/N: Based off this request. Thanks anon! I hope you enjoy!
Word Count: 6,752
Warning: smut
. . .
By her third glass of chardonnay, her stomach was feeling the acid from the wine but she was having such a good time talking to Harry from the operations department that she didn’t care. She’d have another before calling it a night. Just one more glass so she could sit with him a little longer and listen to him talk and watch as he ran his finger along the edge of his pint glass.
He was probably looking at her like he was because he was also three pints of lager in and he was kind so he was holding eye contact to be polite. Certainly, it wasn’t because he found her attractive (though she’d have welcomed that).
The company’s management meeting was long over and everyone else had gone home but Harry and Y/n stayed for another round. They rarely ever got to talk at the office. She’d always wanted to pick his brain about why he decided to move to the US and how, of all companies, he chose to work at Dunn Services.
Y/n laughed on cue as he mentioned something from his childhood with his sister having her friends over to stay the night. He grinned, a healthy row of teeth aimed at her before he looked down and laughed at himself, “In truth? I never did have a sleepover or anything like that.”
“Really? Surely you had friends…”
Harry nodded, “Oh yeah I had a lot of friends. But I never stayed over at anyone’s and they never came over to mine either. Just… I don’t know. Never happened.”
Placing her nearly empty glass down she turned and waved with a smile as the waitress walked by, “Can we get another round, please?”
“How are you getting home?” Harry asked when she faced him, crossing her leg over her knee toward him.
“Taxi. You?”
“Might walk. I’m not far from here.”
Nodding she placed her elbows on the table, “So, I think that you’ve missed out on an integral right of passage, having never had a slumber party. You should definitely remedy that at some point. I highly recommend a fun sleepover. In fact, if you need pointers on what to do during a sleepover, I’m your gal.”
“Oh yeah? What’s your go-to during a slumber party?” Harry teased before taking another sip of his beer.
“Well, I think there are like two main components. The first is entertainment and I’m always keen on a good movie, or a dumb one, either way… a movie for sure if I’m picking. Some people like to play board games or whatever, but I like to stuff myself into a pile of blankets and pillows and just lie, or drape,” she spoke using her arms to demonstrate herself draping into pillows. “Occasionally, if the mood is right, I’ll enjoy a little truth or dare.”
“Got it. A movie and maybe if the mood is right, truth or dare. And what’s the second component.”
Y/n crossed her fingers together and raised her brows as if she were about to say something very important, “Snacks. Beverages. Good ones. Usually just small bites but here’s my list…” She cleared her throat, “Buttered popcorn, and possibly potato chips. Definitely something chocolatey, and maybe something like a cookie or a snack cake. If not potato chips then tortilla chips and if it’s tortilla chips, salsa should also definitely be on the menu.”
Harry held back the laugh in his throat as he nodded, “Wow. Okay. What about like a burger or Chinese food? Would that be allowed?”
Y/n shrugged, “It’s your party. You can do what you want. I’m just telling you what I’d do and what would be a hit with your sleepover buddy.”
Harry breathed out a laugh. Y/n could tell he was getting bashful. She wondered if he was thinking the same thing she was. She watched him for a few seconds before the waitress returned with their drinks.
A quick gulp of wine and she nudged at his shin with her shoe, “You wanna have a slumber party with me?”
Harry blinked and tilted his head, “What? You mean… Seriously?”
She shrugged, “Why not? Then next time someone asks if you’ve ever had a proper slumber party you can say that you have.”
He laughed loudly, his husky voice was like music to her ears. Pointing at her with his finger he grinned, “Now how I can argue with that? I mean,” he shook his head, a glint in his eye, “Every time someone asks me if I’ve been to a slumber party and I tell them I haven’t, it’s such a disappointment! The look on their faces when they realize my whole childhood was a sham…”
They both laughed, leaning in toward one another, tittering toward the edges of their stools.
Harry tilted his head, “Actually I think it sounds fun. You just name the day and I’ll be there.”
Y/n smiled at him. She knew it was crazy. Having a grown man at her place for a slumber party. Typically adults didn’t have those kinds of sleepovers – it was usually with the intent of something far more salacious. But she’d show him a good time, she thought, raising her glass toward his, “Deal.”
.                 .                 .
Y/n had her sofa bed pulled out and piled high with extra blankets and pillows. She had all her favorite snacks plus she ordered cheeseburgers and fries for the guest of the night. It was silly. Truly she hadn’t had a real slumber party in ages, but she couldn’t help but feel a little bit of excitement that she’d be hanging out with Harry all night. It was possible that her small crush on him was making her feel all giddy but she’d push down that feeling until he gave her any extenuating signals.
Because the truth was that they were both single, young adults and this was such an unlikely scenario. No one would look at this and say Oh how cute of these two grown adults hanging out in bed together for a sleepover. So innocent! No, she knew better. While maybe nothing would actually happen it certainly wouldn’t look innocent.
And of course, she did pick out the perfect pijama set. Something a little more flattering on her body but not too hey I really need to get laid tonight. It was a happy compromise. Cotton shorts and a button-up, matching short-sleeved top. This was just supposed to be a slumber party after all.
Right?
Besides, the little paper invitation she gave him on Monday morning told him to arrive in his sleepwear so she had to look the part. And not to toot her own horn but she made a very cute invitation just for him tucked into a pink envelope with a separate little response card that had space at the bottom for him to mark yes or no if he could come. It was a yes. Obviously.
When Harry finally arrived he was wearing a pair of grey sweats and a white t-shirt. And for some fucking bizarre reason he looked so much hotter than he did when he wore his well-fitted suits at work.
Because goddamn did his shirt somehow just hug his torso in all the right spots and it allowed her to take a good look at all tattoos on his arms that were normally hidden under brushed wool jackets or long-sleeved button-up shirts. She knew he had tattoos. She’d seen him roll up his sleeves a couple of times but she never wanted to be rude and stare for long.
And then the sweatpants, while loose in the legs, fit his waist and hips and…
“You okay?” Harry was still standing in the doorway with his backpack draped over his arm waiting to be invited in.
“Yeah, sorry. Not used to seeing you dressed down like this. Almost unrecognizable.”
Harry let out a soft laugh, his eyes crinkling as Y/n stepped aside to let him in, “Would you like to see my ID? Swear I’m the Harry Styles, the guy you invited over for chips, popcorn, and truth or dare. I’ve even got your invite somewhere in my bag…”
She breathed a laugh through her nose and watched him enter into her space, “Movies too. Oh, and I also ordered cheeseburgers. Remembered that you mentioned that.”
He seemed quite pleased with the burgers as she handed him the bag. She got those small ones, five to an order, “Thanks. Fries too, huh?” He reached into the bag and pulled out three crinkle-cut french fries then stuffed them into his mouth.
“So should we settle in and pick out a movie?” She gestured toward her couch.
Harry had seen the pull-out couch with heaps of pillows and blankets when he walked in. He knew that that would be where they’d be spending most of the evening. It was the glaring thing about the whole slumber party slash sleepover. That they’d be probably sleeping next to one another. As two young, healthy, attractive adults.
“Sure,” he nodded and waited for her to pick which side she was going to take before climbing in next to her, the thin mattress and metal frame giving way gently under his weight before he leaned back against a mountain of pillows, bag of burgers safe in his hands.
Y/n had a few video streaming services at the ready and they settled on a cheesy comedy from the late 90s before Y/n reached over to her coffee table and then lined up all the snacks between them.
They chatted a little, having both seen the movie already. Topics were anything from what their plans were for the rest of the weekend to what they’d eaten for lunch at work. And it was only a little awkward when they both reached into the bowl of M&M’s at the same time, fingers brushing together.
Harry moved his hand away, “Sorry. You go…”
Y/n grinned at him, scooping a handful of candy into her palm, and then sat up, adjusting her seating as she crossed her legs together, “Wanna do truth or dare? Pretend like we’re 15 again having a sleepover. Really get into the whole slumber party vibe, ya know?”
Harry dug out a few M&M’s and let out a chesty laugh, “If I’m 15 again we’re in big trouble.”
Y/n snorted a laugh, “Why? What do you mean?”
He shook his head, a wide grin on his face with deep set dimples carved into each cheek as he turned his head to look at her, “If this were happening when I was 15 I’d already be in the bathroom hyperventilating and probably trying to will away a boner after our hands touched in the M&M’s bowl.”
Y/n guffawed and threw her head back, nearly choking on her bite of chocolatey candies as Harry laughed with her. Honestly, it was the best icebreaker she could have asked for. Things had been kind of clunky between them up until that moment as they were still trying to navigate how to act around one another. And she knew he was teasing but the good belly laugh that she got from Harry’s story was exactly what they needed.
“Okay fine. We’ll just keep going about it as adults then. No fifteen-year-olds here tonight,” Y/n chuckled as she shoveled a few kernels of popcorn into her mouth.
Y/n kept her eyes on him as she chewed her mouthful, “So truth or dare?”
Harry cocked his head at her, “So the mood is right then? For truth or dare?”
Y/n’s brows furrowed, “The mood?”
“Yeah. You said it over drinks. Remember when you were telling me what the most important components are to a sleepover and you said you liked truth or dare if the mood was right.”
Nodding slowly, she thought back to what she’d said, “Yeah. I guess I did say that. And I mean… I think the mood’s right for a little truth or dare. Movie’s almost over and you just pretty much kicked us off with that truth.” A breathy laugh was pushed from her mouth.
She could tell Harry was mulling on another question as he bit the inside of his cheek, head tilting in agreement, “So that means it’s your turn. Truth or dare?”
Biting her lip as she pondered, she pressed her back into the soft pillows behind her, “Truth.”
Harry shifted to his side, long legs stretching the length of the mattress as he propped his head up in his hand, a pillow under his arm, “Have you ever kissed a co-worker before?”
Scoffing Y/n moved to her side, mimicking Harry’s position on her side, “No,” she grinned. It was true. She’d never once done anything with any of her coworkers. Having Harry over at her house was the closest she’d ever gotten to doing anything like that. “Now you. Truth or dare?”
His green eyes slid over her features, “Truth.”
She laughed to herself, trying to think of something funny, “How many stuffed animals do you own?”
Licking his lips he nodded, “Think maybe two? Gifts from my niece… Truth or dare?”
“Mmm… dare,” she giggled.
Harry lifted a brow, “Ahhh… feeling bold yeah? Okay… hmm…” He pursed his lips to the side as he considered the dare. “Read to me the last text you sent to anyone. And you have to show me to prove it was the last one. And it can’t be any texts you and me, cause that’s not fair.”
Y/n blinked. She wasn’t exactly sure what her last text was besides Harry. But she was slightly worried because if it was what she was thinking… lifting up her message app she scrolled down to the text thread below Harry’s and it was a text with her sister. Which was what she had been worried about. She gulped, hoping that the things she said about her “coworker” who was coming to stay with her weren’t the last things she and her sister texted about.
Puffing out a breath she covered up all the previous texts to show Harry the last text from her sister – God knows you need it. Sending you good vibes, sis ;)
Harry squinted as he looked at the message and pointed, “That’s to you. The dare was to show me the last text you sent to someone. Let’s see it…”
Feeling her neck heat up she angled the phone away from him and read what she’d sent her sister. And there was no mention of Harry but if he were even halfway decent at picking up clues he might be able to figure out what was being discussed prior.
She shook her head and looked up at him. She couldn’t believe she was about to show him what was on her screen. But a dare was a dare. What was the worst that could happen?
lol I doubt anything will happen but I wouldn’t turn him down. Got condoms just in case 😜 send all your good vibes my way
Harry’s brows squished together as he looked at the text and back to Y/n and then down again at the words on her screen. She saw his throat bob and she knew the look on his face. He fucking knew what that was. He had to know.
She had to look away. She pulled the phone down and killed the screen. The awkwardness between them thick and uncomfortable as she peeked back at him. The edge of his mouth was pulled upward in a smirk, “That’s to your sister?”
Nodding she blew out an exasperated breath, “Your turn. Truth or dare?”
Harry grinned as he positioned his knee closer to Y/n, his eyes still on hers, “Dare.”
Swallowing her embarrassment down the best she could she decided to ask him the same, “Now show me the last text you sent anyone besides me.”
Harry’s smartass grin told her all she needed to know. That his last text probably wasn’t nearly as risqué as hers.
And it wasn’t. Not even close.
You can have two pounds for free. I’ve got so many growing I can’t keep up. As long as you come to pick them up on Monday they’re yours.
“I have a bunch of zucchini growing in my garden,” Harry pulled the phone away and laid it down next to his hip. “Got a neighbor who wants some.”
Of course, his last text to anyone was about zucchini. Jesus, she was so far out of her depth.
He was still wearing that shit-eating grin as he said, “Truth or dare, Y/n?”
And the way he said her name, all slow and sexy-like had her insides heating up. Well, maybe she made up the sexy part but he was definitely teasing her. She could just feel it.
“Truth.”
She was sure she’d regret that. Truth or dare. It didn’t matter. She was still reeling from showing him her texts.
“Was that text about me?” Shit-eating grin in place as he asked. Fucker.
Y/n’s eyes grew wide dropping her mouth open in surprise. Of course, he was going to ask that. Of course!
“Oh come on, Harry…” she pleaded.
He lifted his brows and awarded her a larger grin with those cute indents scoring into his cheeks, “Them’s the rules, baby. You chose truth and now you have to be honest.”
Clearing her throat she sat up to her bottom and leaned forward so she didn’t have to look at him as she put her head in her hands and laughed in disbelief, “Jesus. Seriously?”
“Yep. Spill. Let’s hear it.”
“Okay. Fine. Yes. It was about you.”
Keeping her eyes on her lap she waited for a smug remark. Some kind of teasing reply but it was quiet. Slowly she turned to look back at him and he was still lying on his side, head in his palm as he watched her, his eyes fixed to hers.
She shrugged, “Your turn. Truth or dare?”
Harry flattened his lips and squinted at her before cocking his head, “Hold on… Really? That was about me?”
Sighing she rolled her eyes, “Yes. Sorry. I was… it was just funny… it was me joking around with my sister is all.”
He blinked and looked down at the space between them as he nodded, “Okay. I see. So you didn’t actually mean it?”
“Well… I guess… We were joking. Obviously, nothing has to happen. I would never expect that. I…” she breathed out exasperated.
“Obviously nothing has to happen. Did you want it to happen?” His pupils were pinned to hers again.
Opening her mouth she stopped herself for a moment. She knew her answer was yes but she didn’t want to come off like a creep. She hadn’t expected it and assumed it wouldn’t. But the truth remained; she hoped it would happen.
Deflating her posture she laid back to her side to face Harry, tucking a pillow into her chest, “The truth is that I think you’re attractive and I haven’t been with anyone in kind of a long time and… she knows that, my sister. So we were just… it was lighthearted but yeah I mean… without any expectations, cause I would never… I hope you know that. But I did think it would be nice.”
“Nice. Yeah. I agree. It would be nice. And just so you know,” he swung his head to look over his shoulder before looking back at her, “I brought condoms as well. You know… just in case.”
She was a bit stunned at that. Was he…
“Dare me to kiss you,” he grinned, irises dropping to her lips for a second before looking back into her eyes.
She laughed, “That’s not how the game works. The rules are you can’t–”
“Fuck the rules. Dare me to kiss you.”
Shaking her head with a wide smile stretched across her face she felt like her skin was pricking as her heartbeat picked up. She couldn’t believe this was actually happening.
Looking back into his eyes she inhaled deeply, “Fine. I dare you to kiss me.”
Harry’s smirk was unreal. The way he dragged his gaze over her face and down to her mouth was almost lewd, “Didn’t need to play truth or dare to get me to kiss you, Y/n,” he scooted in, grabbing the pillow she had tucked into her chest and tossing it away before he drew a hand up to her face, “You just needed to ask.”
She held her breath as he closed in slowly until it was as if all the tension in the room had popped and fizzled when his lips met hers.
He was so soft and gentle. Lips winding easily, carefully at first. And then she parted her lips more, kissing him back and letting her mouth press into his bottom lip before their tongues were meshed.
She moved her knee out to stabilize herself and knocked over the bowl of popcorn between them. Laughing into his mouth she gasped as she parted from him but he only reached for her again, placing his palm at the back of her head to pull her mouth back against his with a grunt from his chest as he pushed the bowl away and drove his arm underneath her side to keep her from getting too far.
Harry was softly moaning as his tongue worked its way into her mouth gently. It was clear he’d wanted to kiss her. That he liked it. And that notion made her head spin combined with the feel of his thumb traveling over her jaw. There was not going to be any stopping the momentum that had begun.
Well, except for when the bowl of M&M’s poured out against her leg. She had to push at him. As much as she would have loved to have kept making out, she would not have been able to enjoy melted chocolate on her legs or the bedsheets tucked around the mattress (think of the scrubbing she’d need to do!).
“Sorry,” she panted and looked down at the smashed pieces of popcorn and the chocolate candies strewn between them, “I’ve gotta pick this up. Our body heat will melt all these and it’s gonna be a big mess.”
Harry grinned, “Why don’t we just move this party to your bed for a little bit? Clean up later? The M&M’s won’t melt if we’re not laying on them.”
She laughed, already feeling overwhelmed and overheated from the kiss and now he was suggesting taking it to her bed? This was really happening, wasn’t it? She nodded and they both moved off the sofa sleeper to their feet, Harry following behind Y/n as she led him to her bedroom.
She already had her bedside lamp on. Bed made perfectly, everything tucked in and neat.
She turned to look at him and he stepped against her, palm splaying at her low back, “I dare you to get onto your bed and take your clothes off.”
A small laugh burst from her chest, “Oh, so now we’re just doing dares?”
He nodded, “Making up our own rules for this game. S’more fun this way.”
Letting go of her he watched as she stepped backward toward her bed and began to unbutton her nightshirt until it was shed from her body before she pushed her shorts down her legs. She was left in a pretty white bralette (something soft for bedtime) that stretched around her breasts and a pair of thin cotton panties that matched. She kneed up onto her bed and let her feet dangle off the edge and pointed, “Now I dare you to take off your clothes.”
He peeled his white t-shirt off, his hair mussing in the process. She watched with her lips parted at the gorgeous man stripping before her. Not only was he built exactly like what she dreamed of (tattoos, beefy, muscular, a touch soft, very masculine) but the boner tenting his sweats was hard not to home in on.
Harry stuck his fingers into the waistband and looked up at her, “M’not wearing any underwear, so be warned…”
She swallowed as the material lowered, belly button, happy trail, a bit of dark hair and then he pulled the stretchy waistband away from his body so his cock could push free and she was already clenching at just the sight as he removed his sweatpants, cock full and heavy between his strong thighs.
Jesus Christ.
Harry stepped forward, nudging himself between her knees and she leaned back to look up at him, “I dare you to take off the rest of this. Since I’m completely naked feels only fair.”
She bit her lip and looked down at his girthy dick. He was clearly not shy of his body, standing there like that, cock right in front of her. But why should he be shy when he looked like that?
Scooting back further into the bed she got up to her knees and pulled the bralette off first, feeling the heat of his gaze on her tits as she then slid her panties down her thighs. She wasn’t nearly as confident as Harry was as she quickly pulled at her top blanket and covered herself with a small laugh.
Harry stepped forward, one knee on the mattress before climbing in next to her, nosing at her cheek softly before his lips were connected to hers again. And she melted into him just like before. His mouth was magic or something because before she realized it, he’d pulled the blankets off her body and he had a big palm sliding up her thigh and over her hip, “Don’t cover up. So pretty. Knew you would be.”
She pushed her fingers into his thick wavey hair and felt her side hit the mattress as Harry pulled at her again, mouth still smeared against hers. He grabbed at her thigh, hitching it over his hip as he tucked in closer and it was warm and she could feel it. Feel him against her hip.
His giant hand smoothed against her bottom and up her spine until he was wrapping his long fingers around the back of her neck. Y/n nudged in closer, driving her hips forward until she was practically straddling him. So Harry took that as his cue to move to his back, taking her hips in his hands so she’d follow with him.
It had caught her off guard, the sudden change in position but her lips never stopped moving with his. Their kisses were wet and she could smell their saliva, and a touch of onion even from the burgers he’d eaten.
He guided her hips down, his thick cock hot under her thigh until she felt her pussy drag against warm skin at the base of his dick. A small gasp escaped her mouth as he pulled her up, letting her pussy glide up his length, “So wet already, Y/n…”
She was. It was embarrassing. Every inch of his shaft her pussy dragged against, coated him, wetted his skin. He kept pushing and pulling at her hips, using her slippery pussy like a soft wet toy he could run up and down his length.
Then she felt his fingers move around to her backside, digits sliding against her pussy as he licked into her mouth.
Gently she rolled against him and when she moved herself further down he pushed a fingertip inside, “Go on. Fuck yourself on my finger a little bit,” he whispered against her mouth.
He was filthy. She had no idea. He’d always been so sweet at work. So polite and respectful. But here he was reaching around her ass to get a finger inside of her cunt as she rubbed her pussy over his cock.
She panted into his mouth as she slid down around his finger, her clit smushed into his dick, slippery as she rolled up and down. But then he began to assist as he added another finger and began to fuck into her pussy, letting his digits curve into her the best he could from his angle. Slushy wet, she stopped moving her hips and parted from the kiss as she looked down at him. She could tell she was gushing all over his palm and probably his dick as she moaned.
“S’that feel good. You’re gettin’ my fingers all wet like it feels good.”
Nodding she gasped, “Yeah. Feels so good…”
Harry rutted up against her, his cock still pressed into her clit, and she panted, eyes still searing into his. She didn’t want to look away. She almost couldn’t believe he was in her bed fingering her like that.
“Your turn to dare me to do something. What do you want, Y/n?”
She moaned and closed her eyes. She was certain of what she wanted as she listened to the way his fingers gushed with each plunge into her.
“Fuck… dare you to… put on a condom.”
She popped her eyes open to peer down at him as he slid his fingers out of her, wiping her arousal on her ass, “They right here?” He moved his hand toward her bedside table, a knuckle tapping at the wood.
Climbing off of him she opened the drawer, “Yeah, a whole box. Hold on…”
Reaching over to pull out the condoms she felt Harry’s hands on her hips as he moved to sit up, then his lips were on her back, dotting warm kisses to her shoulder blades as she finally plucked a condom from the fresh box.
She watched him put the condom on and as expected, it didn’t cover his entire length. He was kind of a big guy. Well, maybe there was no kind of about it. Before today she had no idea he was packing like that. Though he always did come off as very confident and sure of himself.
She bit her lip as she watched him toss the wrapper away and then he kneed up to her, arm sliding to her back and carefully lowering her to the bed before spreading her legs apart as he fit himself there, sturdy thighs pushing against her soft ones.
“Gonna tell your sister her good vibes worked?” He smirked down at her, hands scouring her hips and tummy and then kneading softly at her tits.
Y/n laughed and reached a hand down to his knee before he pulled at her, making her thighs drape over his as he inched in closer.
“Hmm?” He was awfully teasing, she thought, grinning at her waiting for an answer.
“Probably,” she spit out in a laugh.  
Harry gripped at her thighs, lifting her a bit more to fit her bum over his bent knees and she wanted to scream in embarrassment when she realized he was inspecting her sodden vulva. She’d gotten herself all tidied up for him, should anything like this happen, so at least she had that going for her.
He smoothed his thumb through her pussylips, spreading them apart, and softly blew out a breath, “That is very pretty. Think we get him in there?”
She rolled her eyes as she watched him wrap his palm around his base and lay his fat cock over her mons, the condomed-tip reaching to her belly button, maybe further past, “Well, it’s made for it, so I’m pretty sure–”
“What… your pussy’s made to fit around my cock?” A cocky dimpled smirk gave way to a laugh.
“You know what I meant. It’s meant to… like…” she breathed out a laugh.
“Oh, I know… just fucking with you, Y/n.”
He gazed at her as he reared back, painting his cockhead through her labia, up and down, a soft bump into her clit before he repeated, spreading her soft lips apart as he watched the way his crown smeared her arousal between her creases.
When she moaned and wiggled her hips he pointed himself right at her little muscle, nudging softly forward, opening it up for himself. And she felt that first push, the way his tip fit into her, spreading apart and then stretching to accommodate his circumference.
“Oh god…” she breathed as he slipped in halfway and then pulled back.
“Almost there,” he panted as he kept his eyes on where they were connected, pushing and pulling back until she was swallowing him whole, his cock enveloped in her soft, warm pussy.
When he’d buried in whole, he moaned and watched her face twist up in ecstasy. Her lips were dropped open and her neck stretched long as she grasped onto the forearm of the hand he had gripping her waist.
Slowly he began to thrust, viscous liquid seeping from her pussy and sticking to his shaft. It was filthy. She was so wet that every time he bottomed out there was a splat and a plap sounding between them.
She let out a deep moan and her lips curled up, humid breath escaping her mouth as she felt him driving into her guts. He was taking it easy. Languidly fucking into her with wet splats every time he plunged in.
When her cunt was taking him easier and she was dripping down to her ass he moved in a little harder, faster. Angling himself over her, a palm down on the mattress so he could work into her with more gusto.
“Ah! Harry…” she squeaked at the stronger thrusts and clung onto his lats. He was panting, lips parted and pink, a curl falling over his forehead as he plowed into her splooshing pussy.
“Fuck you’re wet. Pussy is gushing, Y/n…”
Her brows pushed together as she gasped, her body knocked upward every time his hips met hers making her tits bounce. Harry didn’t know where to keep his focus. He loved watching his cock disappear into her hole but he kind of liked being right over her so he could see her face crinkle up every time he bottomed out and then her pretty breasts sway up and down. Or maybe he’d like to fuck her from behind, watch her ass jiggle as he pounded into her.
“Mmm… fuck that’s big!”
Harry groaned, “Yeah? Sure know how to sweet talk a man don’t you, pretty? S’hurt?”
She watched his face, a lusty grin, droopy eyelids as he continued muscling his way in deep.
She hissed when he bucked in, as if he was showing off just how deep he could push in and she coughed out, “Mmm… a little!”
Harry was going to lose his mind with her if she kept squeaking out moans and splatting around his cock like she was but he would be a gentleman and pull back a touch. Slowing down a little he sat up and moved his hand between them, smushing his thumb into her clit, which was so sticky wet even that swished and slid under the pad of his digit.
“Yessss…” she breathed out before murmuring on about how good it felt. “Oh fuck, that’s it. Oh god… please don’t stop… Harry, fuck, yes…”
The clit. The magical little nob that worked wonders as long as the man knew where to find it. Clearly, Harry knew right where it was. Knew how to circle over it, pressing against it just right. Knew how to fuck into her as well. Sliding his length through her vaginal walls, spreading her open, and grazing against her gummy little spot on the inside that had her buzzing and liquifying for him.
He watched her whine and squirm under him, loving how she was so into it. God that was an ego boost, “Like that, Y/n? Gonna come for me? Yeah?”
Her ears were already ringing when she lost herself, gripping around him and crying out as her orgasm washed through her tummy. Harry’s cock made her feel so full, so incredibly stuffed to the brim that it weighed her down and she could hardly move as he bulldozed into her, the pad of his thick thumb smushing fast circles over her throbbing nub.
Fucking her through it he gasped at how she spasmed and milked around him, her pussy trying to siphon his come right through his condom. But Harry wouldn’t come just yet. He had something to prove. Wanted to make a show of his prowess and give her something to tell her sister about.
So when she was finally calmed and her pussy wasn’t clamping around him like a vice grip he slid his hand under her head and kissed her gently, speaking low and soft against her lips, “Gonna have you flip over, okay? Just need a little more yeah?”
When he parted from the kiss she blinked up at him, fluttering lashes and out of breath, “You didn’t come?”
He shook his head, pulling himself out, gently before he placed his hands on her hips, “Not yet. I will soon, though. M’right on the edge. Won’t take me long.”
She rolled to her side as he lifted her hips and helped her get to her tummy. She felt his hands on her ass, squeezing and rubbing each meaty globe in his big palms. Then he was straddling her thighs as he spread her gently and she felt him push his thick tip back into her pussy, sharp and hot. It was tighter, felt a lot fuller like that as he began driving in deep and then pulling out to his tip, before plowing back into the hilt.
His moans grew louder and, even he could admit, sounded quite whiny, pathetic. He was shaking as he watched his dick spread her in half, her soft ass jiggling as he smacked into her, skin patting, his cock leaking precum steadily into his condom.
He hissed when it felt too good. His balls squeezing and his fat dick throbbing inside of her. He thrusted forward, landing a palm down next to her shoulder, his chest pressed into her back as he rutted himself in, tucking his cock through her insides and puffed out a hot groan into her ear, “Fuck you feel good. Gonna make me come, baby…”
She moaned and nodded, “Come for me, Harry…”
He might have held out for another thirty seconds, possibly a minute longer but her breathy words, all sultry and pleading had him pumping into his condom in an instant. He gargled on a moan and squeezed his eyes closed as he buried in and stilled his hips, ass flexing so he could push in further if it were possible.
Y/n felt him crushing her back as he collapsed over her, panted breaths in her ear, cock still throbbing in the aftermath of his orgasm.
She didn’t mind it. Liked his weight on her like that. Enjoyed the way he seemed just as fucked out as she was. She could even feel his heart pounding in his chest against her back.
With a moan, she turned her head and nuzzled her face into her blanket with her eyes closed. She’d fall asleep that way if he couldn’t get up. It was quite warm and comforting. Like a weighted blanket draped over her body. And maybe she did doze off for a bit because when she opened her eyes she felt him moving off of her before he crashed down next to her, the springs in her mattress bouncing under him.
Pushing herself to lie on her side she ran a hand over his chest and he turned to look at her, a dopey smile on his flushed face, “So this is what happens at slumber parties, huh? I’ve really missed out all these years.”
She giggled and nodded into her pillow, “Yep. They’re just like big orgies really. Normally there are more than just two people. It’s how I lost my virginity.”
Harry sputtered a laugh, “Really?”
Y/n couldn’t help but to cackle loudly and roll to her back, the biggest grin on her face, “No, silly. I was teasing.”
He slid a hand over her tummy, “So this isn’t what happens at slumber parties, then?” She could hear the cheeky smile in his voice.
She turned her head to look at him, “Well, not usually. But I think we made our own rules for this one today.”
“Yeah? Well, I have to give it to you. You throw a hell of a party. I’m certain this is gonna go down as the best sleepover in history.”
. . .
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lifeofpriya · 2 days
Text
I Mean It - Franco Colapinto
Tumblr media
[gif credit goes to @argentinagp]
summary: your friendship with franco takes a surprising turn when his protective instincts kick in...
"Oh god, it's Chad again," you murmur under your breath, watching him stumble towards you with his friends in tow.
"Who's that?" asks Franco, not taking his eyes off the road. His grip on the steering wheel tightens almost imperceptibly.
You roll your eyes, the neon lights from the street outside flickering in the car's cabin. "Chad. He's had a thing for me since high school, but I've never given him the time of day."
Franco's eyes flick to the rearview mirror, catching your reflection. "Well, maybe he just needs to realize you're not interested." His voice is calm, but there's an undercurrent of something else—concern, perhaps.
You sigh, watching Chad and his entourage draw closer to the car. "I've told him plenty of times, but he's like a bad penny."
Franco's jaw clenches as he shifts gears. The engine purrs beneath you, a comforting sound in the growing tension. "Why don't you let me handle it?"
You glance at him, surprised by his protective tone. "It's okay, I can handle it."
But as Chad knocks on the window, his leering smile plastered across his face, you feel a shiver of fear. You've dealt with this before, but something about the way he's looking at you tonight sends a chill down your spine.
Franco doesn't miss a beat. He rolls down the window, his eyes cold and sharp. "What do you want?" he asks, his Argentine accent more pronounced than usual.
Chad's smile falters, glancing from you to Franco and back again. "Just saying hi to my old classmate here," he slurs, gesturing towards you with a sloppy wave.
"Hi's been said," Franco replies curtly, his eyes never leaving Chad's. "Now if you don't mind, we're busy."
Chad's friends snicker, but his smile turns sour. He leans closer, the smell of alcohol heavy on his breath. "What's going on here, then? You two on a date?"
You tense, ready to speak, but Franco beats you to it. "It's none of your business what we're doing." His voice is even, but the muscles in his neck stand out, a clear sign of his growing irritation.
Chad's eyes narrow, his grip on the window frame tightening. "It is when they're with me," he sneers, his hand reaching for the car door.
Without hesitating, Franco's hand shoots out and grabs Chad's wrist, his grip firm and unyielding. "Back off," he warns, his voice a low growl. "Or you're going to regret it."
Chad's friends exchange uneasy glances, taking a step back. They hadn't seen this side of him before—the fierce, protective side that only emerged when someone threatened someone he cared about. You sit frozen in the passenger seat, heart racing.
"Take your hand off me," Chad spits, trying to pull away.
Franco's grip tightens, his eyes never leaving yours. "You heard me. Back. Off."
Chad tries to jerk his hand away, but Franco's hold is like steel. The unspoken message is clear: no one messes with you on his watch. Your heart skips a beat at the sight of his protective stance, and for a moment, all you can do is stare at the intertwined hands—Chad's meaty and desperate, Franco's firm and unwavering.
"You don't know who you're dealing with," Chad slurs, his voice shaking slightly.
Franco's eyes flick to Chad's face, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips. "Oh, I think I have a pretty good idea." He releases Chad's wrist and the other man stumbles back, almost falling.
Chad's friends grab his arms, whispering in his ear, trying to calm him down. His cheeks flush with a mix of alcohol and embarrassment. He glares at you before stumbling away, his words slurred and angry. "You'll regret this, you little tease."
Franco's gaze follows Chad until he's out of sight. Then, he turns to you, his expression softer. "You okay?" His hand reaches over to give your knee a gentle squeeze.
"I could have handled that myself, you know," you murmur, trying to regain your composure.
Franco's hand lingers on your knee for a moment before retreating back to the steering wheel. "I know," he says softly. "But I didn't like the way he was looking at you."
You nod, feeling a strange mix of emotions—gratitude, relief, and a flutter of something more. You've never seen Franco act like this before, not even when he's racing against the clock. "Thanks for that," you manage to say, your voice shakier than you'd like.
He nods, his eyes flicking back to the road. "No problem," he says, but you can see the tension in his jaw. He's not one to get involved in other people's drama, especially not like this. But there's something about you that makes him want to protect you, even though you've never talked about being more than friends.
The car rolls to a stop at a red light, and you both sit in silence, the hum of the engine the only sound. You can feel the warmth of his hand where it touched your knee, and you're suddenly very aware of how close you are. The chemistry between you has always been palpable, but this is the first time it's felt so intense.
The light turns green, and the car jolts forward. You clear your throat, trying to break the silence. "So, do you do that for all your friends?" you ask, trying to keep your voice light.
Franco glances at you, his eyes lingering for a moment. "Only the ones who are worth it," he says with a small smile.
You laugh nervously, your heart racing. The air in the car feels charged with something new. You both know there's a line that's been crossed tonight—a line you're not sure either of you is ready to talk about.
Franco's eyes flick to you again, a question in them. "Do you want me to take you home?" he asks.
You nod, the adrenaline from the encounter with Chad starting to wear off. The thought of being alone with him, in the quiet of the night, sends a thrill through you. "Yes, please."
The rest of the drive is tense, filled with the unspoken words hanging in the air. You can't help but steal glances at Franco, his strong profile silhouetted against the glow of the dashboard. His focus is solely on the road, but you can feel his eyes on you every now and then, checking if you're okay.
When he pulls up to your house, the engine's purr dies down to a gentle rumble. He puts the car in park but doesn't turn it off. The silence between you is thick, charged with the unspoken tension of the night's events.
"Are you sure you're okay?" Franco asks, his voice gentle but still holding a hint of the steel from earlier.
You nod, trying to ignore the way your stomach flutters when he looks at you with genuine concern. "Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks for, you know, not letting him ruin my night."
Franco smiles, his eyes searching yours. "You don't have to thank me for that." He pauses, his hand hovering over the ignition. "Do you want to talk about it?"
You shake your head. "Not really." The words tumble out before you can stop them. You're not ready to dissect the mess of emotions swirling inside you.
Franco nods, his hand dropping to his lap. "Okay." He takes a deep breath, his chest rising and falling in the dim light. "But if you ever need to talk, I'm here."
You appreciate his understanding, the sincerity in his voice. "I know," you murmur, reaching for the door handle. The cool night air seeps into the car as you open the door.
"Hey," he says, stopping you before you can step out. His hand grazes your arm, sending a shiver down your spine. "I mean it."
You look back at him, the intensity in his eyes making your heart race even faster. "Thanks," you murmur, feeling the weight of his words. You've known each other for years, but this is a side of Franco you haven't seen before—vulnerable, caring, and fiercely protective. It's intoxicating.
As you step out of the car, the cool evening air brushes against your flushed cheeks. You pause, glancing over your shoulder at him. "Would you, uh, want to come in for a bit?" You hadn't planned on asking, but the words just slip out.
Franco's eyes light up, a smile spreading across his face. "Yeah," he says, a hint of surprise in his voice. "I'd like that."
You lead him inside, the warm glow of your house a stark contrast to the dark, quiet street outside. The door clicks shut behind you, and suddenly, the air feels different—electric. You both know that this night has changed something between you, and you're both equally terrified and excited by it.
\\\
In the cozy living room, you offer him a seat on the couch. He sits, his movements deliberate and cautious, as if he's afraid to shatter the delicate moment. You sit opposite him in an armchair, the space between you feeling both vast and suffocatingly small.
You start with small talk, asking about his racing career, the upcoming races he's excited for, trying to keep the conversation light. He answers, his eyes never leaving yours, and you can see the excitement in them when he talks about his passion. But there's something else there too—an unspoken question, a silent plea for you to acknowledge the shift in your friendship.
As the conversation lulls, the air between you crackles with unspoken feelings. You bite your lip, wondering if you're reading too much into his protective behavior earlier. Maybe it was just a friend looking out for a friend.
Franco clears his throat, breaking the silence. "So, that guy," he says, his voice low. "What's the deal with him?"
You shrug, trying to play it cool. "He's just an old classmate who doesn't get the hint."
Franco's gaze intensifies, his eyes searching yours. "But he's more than that, isn't he?"
You swallow hard, noticing the way the shadows play across his face, highlighting his sharp cheekbones and the concern etched into his brow. "Yeah," you admit. "He's been bothering me for a while now."
Franco's jaw tenses, his hands clenching into fists on the armrest. "If he ever bothers you again, you tell me. I won't let him get away with it."
You nod, feeling the gravity of his promise. "I know."
Franco leans forward, closing the distance between you. "But I'm not just talking about Chad," he says, his voice dropping to a whisper. "I don't like seeing you upset or scared."
You look down at your hands, twisting in your lap. "I know," you reply, your voice barely above a murmur. "But it's not your problem to deal with."
"It is when it involves you," Franco insists, his eyes never leaving yours. "I care about you."
The words hang in the air, and you feel a rush of heat to your cheeks. You've had a crush on him for what feels like forever, but you've never dared to hope he felt the same way. "Franco…"
He takes a deep breath, his eyes searching yours. "I know we're just friends," he says, his voice a soft rumble. "But I can't ignore how I feel anymore."
You look up, your heart pounding in your chest. "How do you feel?" you ask, the question a whisper in the quiet room.
Franco leans closer, his hand reaching out to gently cup your cheek. "I think you know," he murmurs, his thumb tracing the line of your jaw.
You can't help but lean into his touch, your eyes closing for a brief moment. When you open them again, you find him staring at you with a look that makes your heart ache. "I've had feelings for you for a while now," he confesses, his voice a soft rumble. "But I didn't want to mess up what we have."
You swallow hard, trying to find the right words. "You wouldn't mess it up," you murmur, your voice barely audible. "I've had feelings for you too."
The confession hangs in the air, a silent acknowledgment of the tension that's been building between you for so long. Franco's hand lingers on your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin as if memorizing every inch of you.
You lean closer, the space between your faces shrinking until you can feel his breath on your lips. "Then why did you wait so long?" you ask, your voice trembling slightly.
Franco's hand slides around the back of your neck, his thumb stroking your skin in a gentle, soothing motion. "I didn't know if you felt the same," he admits, his eyes searching yours for any sign of doubt or rejection. "I didn't want to ruin our friendship."
You lean into his touch, the warmth of his hand spreading through your body. "It's okay," you whisper. "I've felt the same way."
Franco's gaze lingers on your mouth, and you can see the moment he decides. He leans in, closing the gap between you. His lips are soft, tentative at first, as if asking for permission. You give it, your eyes fluttering shut as you lean into the kiss. The chemistry that's been simmering between you for so long ignites, sending sparks through your veins.
The kiss deepens, becoming more urgent, more needy. His other hand finds its way to your waist, pulling you closer, as if trying to erase the years of unspoken longing. You wrap your arms around his neck, your fingers tangling in his hair. The world outside the confines of the armchair fades away, leaving only the two of you.
As the kiss breaks, you both lean back, panting. The air is thick with anticipation, your hearts racing in sync. "I've wanted to do that for so long," you murmur, your voice hoarse with emotion.
Franco's eyes are dark with desire, his hand still resting on the back of your neck. "Me too," he whispers, his thumb caressing your skin in a gentle rhythm. "But I didn't want to push you."
You smile, feeling the warmth of his palm against your cheek. "You didn't push. I wanted it too."
Franco's smile widens, his eyes searching yours for any hint of doubt. Finding none, he leans in again, his lips brushing against yours in a soft caress that sends your heart racing. This time, the kiss is slower, more deliberate, as if he's savoring every moment.
You melt into him, feeling his warmth envelop you like a blanket on a cold night. His arms tighten around you, and you realize that you've never felt safer, more cherished. It's as if he's been waiting for this moment just as long as you have.
"I should have told you sooner," he whispers against your lips, regret lacing his words.
You shake your head, your heart hammering in your chest. "It's okay," you reply, your voice a breathy whisper. "We're here now."
Franco's arms tighten around you, his warmth seeping through your clothes. You press closer, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your palm, the comforting thud echoing in your ear. The weight of his confession settles on you, a warmth spreading through your body that has nothing to do with the heat of the moment.
You pull back slightly, needing to look into his eyes. "What happens now?" you ask, your voice a whisper in the quiet room.
Franco's gaze holds yours, filled with a vulnerability that makes your heart ache. "Whatever you want to happen," he says, his thumb tracing small circles on your cheek. "We take it slow, we talk, we figure it out."
You nod, your pulse racing. The idea of navigating a romantic relationship with your best friend is both exhilarating and terrifying. But the way he's looking at you now, with so much care and longing, makes it feel right. "Okay," you murmur, your voice barely above a breath.
Franco leans back, giving you some space. He takes a deep breath, his eyes searching yours. "I don't want to rush anything," he says, his voice steady. "But I can't ignore this anymore."
You nod, feeling a mix of excitement and fear. "Neither can I." The words feel like a confession, a secret you've held close for so long finally spilling out into the open.
He smiles, a soft, gentle smile that makes your heart flutter. "Good," he whispers, leaning in to kiss you again. This time, it's slower, more deliberate, as if he's committing every sensation to memory.
The kiss lingers, and when you finally pull away, you're both left breathless. The silence stretches out between you, filled with the unspoken promise of what's to come. You can feel your heart racing, your skin tingling from his touch.
"I should go," Franco says, his voice gruff. He doesn't move, though, his hand still cradling your cheek.
You nod, your heart racing. "Okay," you whisper, feeling a mix of disappointment and relief. You stand up, and he follows, his hand slipping away as you both regain your footing in the new reality of your relationship. The space between you feels charged, the air heavy with unspoken promises and the weight of what's to come.
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moonstruckme · 2 days
Note
Oh my god congrats on 7k!!! So so SO deserved in every way imaginable
Could I request apple pie prompt #28: dark lipstick smeared on a cheek with Sirius???
Thank you lovely!!
modern au
Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 731 words
It’s embarrassing, how much time you spend in front of the mirror before Sirius arrives. You fix and fiddle until you’re nearly unrecognizable to yourself, until your face is a word you’ve said too many times and it’s lost all meaning. You started out with more eyeshadow than you have on now, then you’d wiped that off and tried out a lip technique you’d seen in a tutorial online. You’ve used one makeup wipe already, front and back and all folded up to get to the clean corners, and you’re honestly still not sure if what you’ve ended up with is decent or if you just can’t look at it properly anymore. You hope your dress is enough to distract Sirius if it’s horrid. 
You’re seriously considering wiping it all off and starting over again when the doorbell rings. Your heels click on the floor as you hurry to answer it. 
Sirius looks surprised when you open the door, as if he hadn’t expected to find you on the other side. “Hi,” he says. 
You smile anxiously. “Hi.” 
He’s wearing a suit, which you’d been expecting but bowls you over nonetheless. Sirius manages to make it look both formal and relaxed, his dark hair tucked behind his ear on one side and his jacket unbuttoned suavely. 
Remus claims it isn’t a big deal, this banquet his university is having, but it is. It is for Remus, because he’s receiving an award, but also (privately, selfishly) for you, because this is the first thing you’ve gone to with Sirius as his date. You’ve been on dates, and you’ve already met his friends, which he says was the important thing, but part of you is savoring the privilege of this. That he’d asked you to Remus’ event as his date. 
“Hi,” Sirius says again. He blinks at you, slow and hard. 
Shit. 
“It’s too much, right?” You take a step back from the door, hand itching for a makeup wipe. “I can take it off quickly, we’ll still have time to make it. I’ll do something simpler.” 
“No,” he says, “don’t change it, it’s…it’s nice.” 
You cringe at the hesitation in his tone. You catch your reflection in the mirror by the door, panicked and overdone, as you turn back towards the bathroom. “I promise it won’t take long. I don’t know what I was thinking, the lips are way too much.” 
Sirius’ fingers wrap harshly around your wrist, stopping you. “Don’t you fucking touch the lips,” he says. 
His eyes catch yours in the mirror. You’re frozen. Once it’s clear you’re not reaching for the wipe anymore, Sirius loosens his grip, fingers skimming up to your shoulder and toying absently with the strap of your dress. He looks almost caught in a daze. 
“Fuck.” He expels a breath. “I wish I could kiss you without fucking them up.” Your lips part in surprise, and Sirius closes his eyes like he can’t look at it. He compromises by dropping his lips to your shoulder. He kisses the bare skin reverently. “You look stunning.” 
Your heart hiccups. “Really?” 
You realize the second after you’ve asked that it sounds like you’re fishing for compliments, but Sirius doesn’t seem to care either way. He meets your gaze in the mirror again. 
“Very,” he says. His brows bunch as if in distress. “You’re killing me, gorgeous. I can’t decide whether to go to Remus’ thing and show you off or keep you here to myself.” 
You laugh. It dislodges some of your nerves. “We’re definitely going to Remus’ thing,” you say to him. “He’s winning an award.” 
“He’ll win other awards, won’t he? He’s brainy.” 
“I also didn’t get dressed up like this to stay in.” 
“Much sounder reasoning,” Sirius admits. He sighs dramatically. “Okay, but do me a favor and give me a smacker so those pretentious shits know we’re together, yeah?” 
You raise your eyebrows at him. “A smacker?” 
“A kiss, doll.” 
“I know what you mean,” you laugh. “You want me to get lipstick on your face right before this posh dinner?” 
“If it looks half as good on me as it does on you, sweetheart,” he gives a winsome crack of a smile, “no one will have a bad thing to say about it.” 
You decide it’s not worth arguing with him. Your dark lipstick looks very pretty on his cheek all evening.
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mywritersmind · 21 hours
Text
SAVIOR - LN4
pt.2
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summary : Y/n’s favorite place has quickly become her and Lando’s shared hallway. They grow closer and finally make it to the fresh air.
OG SUMMARY (When y/n’s absent neighbor shows up, causing her great annoyance with smoke and repetitive beeping, she marches over to tell the man off but is met with a handsome face and strong hands that are in distress.)
listen up : no warnings!! y/n is clueless abt f1. lando is silly. i’m craving strawberries now.
word count : 1878
⋆。‧˚⋆
I haul my five grocery bags into the elevator, struggling to keep them all off the ground. I sigh when I finally still in the metal box, i’ve carried these at least two blocks and one had broken on the way.
The doors are about to close but a hand slides in between them, making them automatically open for him.
Hello my hot mysterious neighbor.
He looks relieved he made it, “Y/n!” He says cheerfully, like we’ve known each other for ages. It’s been a couple weeks since I slammed on his door and stomped through his kitchen.
The other side of the hallway had been quiet until last night when I heard keys rattling and the door opening. I can’t help but wonder what he does that keeps him from home so often.
“Lando, Hi!” I smile back as he slides beside me and presses our floor.
“You need help?” He eyes the bags as I bite my lip, not wanting to bother him. I don’t have the time to respond because he takes three bags out of my hands like it’s nothing.
“Thank you.” I sigh, “I’ve been struggling for like two blocks.” He laughs a bit with me as the numbers get higher and higher.
“I’m happy to help.” We finally reach our floor, Lando watches me go first and walk to my door, unlocking it and walking in.
Lando follows hesitantly, like he doesn’t know if he’s allowed.
“Thank you again! I put myself in a bit of a bind when I decided that my friends need fifteen types of salami and cheese.” I place the bags on the counter, Lando following.
I push back my hair and suddenly wish I had cleaned up a bit more. My friends are coming over tonight and I had decided to push back my cleaning. Looking around at the clothes and old popcorn bowls scattered around makes me want to slap myself.
“Really, I like to lend a hand! I never get to be neighborly.” He shrugs.
“What do you do for work? If you don’t mind me asking?” I start placing the cold items in the freezer.
He leans against the counter, his arms holding him up and looking alarmingly fit, “Uh… You ever follow Formula 1?”
I nod, “Kinda? I used to love it!” My mom and I would watch every sunday but I stopped in college so I don’t know any of the current grid, “So you work in the sport! That’s cool, pretty hands on?” I ask as he laughs a bit, looking awkward.
“Yeah, I work with the cars.” He looks around my place a bit, “So, why does one need this much food? I’m judging or anything it’s just… You don’t seem like the type to need a jumbo sized pretzel bag.”
I smile and snatch the bag from him, “I could definitely eat all of this by the way! But I'm having a bit of a party tonight. If anything’s too loud just let me know! It’s just old friends from college- actually.” I look up at him, a boost of confidence appearing in me, “You could join us. If you’re not busy.”
It suddenly sounds like a ridiculously stupid idea. I turn back to the fridge, placing a bottle of lemonade in it and cringing.
“I would love to.” I let out a sigh of relief, “But I've got plans…” I frown and turn back to him, finally putting away the last of my groceries.
“Aw.”
“It’s really nice of you to invite me.” I smile, a bit sad and confused why I'm disappointed. I mean I barely know the man. “What do you do for work?”
I lean against the counter so I'm across from him, “I’m a writer. Journalism right now but I really want to take a more bookish route…”
He genuinely looks so intrigued, more interested than anyone else who I've told I write articles about neighborhood drama.
He checks his watch, which I'm now realizing is incredibly expensive, and swears, “I gotta go. Have fun with your party tonight.”
⋆。‧˚⋆
I definitely do have fun. My friends and I eat, drink, and play board games just like we’re back in dorms. I’m seeing my last and closest friend off when Lando comes up the hallway, As my friend's eyes go wide when she sees him, I shake my head.
“Goodbye!” I push her out of my apartment, “Love you!”
“Yeah love you too! Text me!” She walks past Lando, nodding at him before she turns behind his back and mouths ‘he’s hot’.
I roll my eyes at her, a smile still on my face as Lando looks at me. He’s in a full suit, holding his blazer in his hand.
“Fun time then?” God he’s hot!
“Absolutely!” I giggle, a bit tipsy, “How about you then?” I eye his suit.
“As good as I could make it.”
I slap my hand over my mouth, “God you aren’t coming from a funeral then, are you?”
He laughs at this, “No! No. A work banquet thing.”
I giggle a bit as he turns to his door, “Hey!” I say without thinking, “Would you want to come in? I have wine.”
He’s sitting on my couch thirty minutes later, a glass deep and talking about where he’s traveled too.
“That’s my dream!” I say, my feet tucked under myself as I tilt my head on the couch cushions, “Traveling. I mean- You’ve been everywhere!”
He shrugs, sipping his wine, his tie undone and shoes off, “It’s amazing but I'm not there for long so I don’t usually get to sightsee much. Honestly the most interesting thing that’s happened to me recently is this pretty girl came to save my baking disaster.”
I hum to his words, blushing a bit, “Sounds like a hero if i’ve ever heard one.” We both go silent, taking pieces of my leftover charcuterie board. “Should I start watching F1?”
“No!” He says it so quick that i’m taken aback.
“No?”
He laughs a bit, shaking it off, “It’s boring. I can’t have someone else in my life talk about it.”
I spin my wine around in the glass, “So I'm someone in your life now?”
He smirks, “We’re friends, aren’t we?”
I pretend to contemplate this, “I’ve never had a friend who hasn’t gone to the strawberry market with me.”
He makes an odd face, “So we must go then.”
I sigh, “If you want to be my friend…”
The corner of his mouth pulls, “Tomorrow at 9?”
⋆。‧˚⋆
He’s at my door at 9:12. Thank god he’s late because I hop over to the door, pulling on my shoe and pulling down my jean skirt.
I open the door and stand up straight, smiling breathlessly. He, of course, looks perfect in jeans and an olive green shirt, “Morning.”
“Ready to taste the best strawberries you’ve ever had?” I grab my bag and keys.
“So ready.”
We make it to the market just on time. It’s my favorite neighborhood gem. Every Sunday people gather with strawberries. There are big and small, some covered in chocolate and some in honey.
I buy a box of chocolate ones, well Lando does. He insists that he still owes me. Handing one to Lando with an extra fork, he bites into it, his eyes roll, “Fucking hell.” I nod, excited that he likes them as much as I do.
“My favorite treat! Something you can’t burn your house down with.” I eye him and he eyes me right back. Being with Lando is like a breath of fresh air. I’ve never been so confident in my social skills.
He laughs with a shop owner as he buys his pack of plain strawberries. He's so nice and just listens politely as the woman goes on and on about her childhood on a strawberry farm.
He gives her a bigger bill than necessary and as she insists it’s too much, he just shakes his head and continues walking.
We settle at a park bench nearby, tasting all the pieces we’ve bought, “This is genuinely phenomenal.” He says while eating another, “How’d you find this place?”
“Had to write about something local and had total writers block… I was walking around one day and just sort of stumbled upon it.”
He smiles, I really like this smile. “You seem like the type to just stumble upon a strawberry market.”
I laugh, covering my mouth, “What does that even mean?”
“You’re just so…” His hands make these weird gestures, his fingers moving around as he laughs and gives up, “It just fits.”
I smile, meeting his eyes. They're so nice, a mix of blue and green. His gaze washes over me and I feel the need to smile even more.
“You’ve got nice eyes.” My stomach twists as he says it so calmly, “Real pretty.” I feel a blush on my cheeks and I turn away from him, looking at the park near us and being startled by the child looking up at us.
Lando follows my gaze, mumbling softly, “Shit.”
“Hi.” The kid says awestruck, I look to Lando who’s smiling and sitting up straighter. “Um- Are you Lando Norris?”
Lando scratches the back of his neck, “Yeah I am! What's your name?”
“W-William!” He says, swallowing and pulling a pen from behind his back, “Could you sign this?” I glance to what looks like his mother, she’s watching him with a smile.
Lando simply nods and takes the cap from his head, its bright orange. He signs his name and messes up the kid's hair, “Thanks a lot! My friends’ll never believe it!” The boy squeals and runs back to his mom who waves slightly and takes the boy's hand.
I raise a brow at Lando, still confused, “I’m sorry…” He looks embarrassed but I don’t even know what for.
“I’m going to assume you didn’t tell me the whole truth in what your job is?”
His cheeks get a bit red, “I do work with the cars… Just really close. Like I’m in them. One specifically.”
I nod, “Yours?”
“Mine.” He crosses his arms, his lips in a thin line, “I drive for McLaren.” I breathe out.
“Oh.” I can’t help but think I have a type because I grew up with Jenson Button posters on my wall.
He runs a hand through his curls, “I don’t usually get recognized around here- Thought we would be okay.”
“We are okay!” I reassure him, realizing he’s actually embarrassed, “That was sweet.”
He looks up hopefully, “You think? I’m sorry for lying- I just really liked that you didn’t know who I am or what I do.”
“Well, I sort of still don't. I know your full name now, that’s about it.” He smiles at this, I bite into another strawberry.
“Do you want to go out with me?”
He is yet to say something I'm not shocked at.
“Yeah.” I nod, smiling at him as he grins, “I’d really like that. Don’t you have to race soon though…? Singapore, isn’t it?”
The smirk that pulls at his lips is just plain mischievous, “I never said the date would be here.”
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mechaknight-98 · 3 days
Text
Prey II (NSFW) FT Momo Hirai
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Operator's Notes: she completely derailed what I was working on.
I sat at the TV, controller in hand, immersed in *Under Night In-Birth II*, gearing up for this year’s Evo. My older brother was on the other end of the call, relentlessly running circles around me in-game, as he often did. His smug laugh filled the headset, but I couldn’t help but grin. Our training banter was always light-hearted, and it made the hours of practice fly by.
Then my phone buzzed with a familiar name on the screen. Jihyo.
"Hey, Daizo, have you talked to Momo today?" she asked, her voice holding that tone I’d come to recognize—half casual, half concerned.
I paused the game and leaned back, shifting my focus entirely to her. "Um, no, why? Is everything alright?" I asked, feeling a flicker of worry for her and Momo.
“She’s been acting different, and I wanted to know if you knew anything about it.” There was a hint of frustration in her voice, the kind that only shows when you’re trying to look out for someone you care about but can’t quite figure out how.
I shook my head, though I knew she couldn’t see me. "Not currently, Hoyo, but I’ll keep you updated." The nickname slipped out naturally—the one I had reserved only fit her. We had a long history of looking out for each other, ever since we met in the most random of circumstances. Whether it was late-night strategy discussions about our favorite games or those talks where we spilled our worries about everything else, she had always been someone I could count on. And in turn, I made sure she knew she could rely on me too.
"Thanks, Daizo. You're the best," she said, and I could hear the faint smile in her voice.
I smiled back, even though she couldn’t see it. "Anytime, Hoyo." after that Jihyo ends the call. I go back to playing for a few more hours then take a nap.
I woke up to the door opening and looked up to see my girlfriend with a sexy and cute blonde bob that drove me wild, “Oh, I like your hair babe,” I said to Momo as she walked in with the confidence of a tigress assessing jet prey. Her big eyes narrow as she stares at me.
“Um babe are you?” I say before I'm cut off she slams me onto the couch and unbuckles my pants. She takes my manhood inside of her mouth before she begins sucking on it in earnest. Her eyes encourage me to use her tight throat as a pussy and pound her hard… no they challenge me to. I grabbed her illustrious face and began to ruthlessly fuck her face. Echoes of her gags could be heard through the room as I fucked her throat as hard as I could. Wordlessly she encouraged me to go deeper and rougher. I watched as she teared up my body held no reprieve for her though. My thrust grew rougher and rougher as her warm. Wet tight throat. As I keep fucking her throat I begin to throb and Momo does the most heinous gag I've ever felt causing me to just explode in down her throat. She greedily and happily downs my cum and swallows with no fuss or mess besides the pool of drool dripping from her mouth to her tits. She smiles luridly before standing before me and taking off the rest of her clothes. I watch with confused arousal as she walks into our bedroom hips swaying maliciously and enticingly. Obviously, I follow her and she waits for me happily. She wiggles her cute ass begging me to pound her slick glistening cunt. I line myself up behind her and she smiles eyes wide and lascivious before I plunge into her
“Oh fuck you're so tight tonight,” I moan as I feel her pussy coil
around my cock like a snake seeking prey to devour. I start thrusting slowly into Momo. She moans heavily as her walls tighten even further. I become a little lightheaded at her tightness but her soaking pussy makes my entry and exist all the easier. We find a decent rhythm as continue fucking her blonde bob hair bounces and compels me to yank her hair I grab a handful and pull her face to mine. She smiles seductively as the sound of flesh slapping echoes in the bed. She leans in for a greedy kiss as I thrust into her. Her body radiates lust and passion as she demands I continue to take her. Her tongue pierces into my mouth deep and hungry as she probes my mouth. Hesitantly I poke her tongue with mine and she voraciously overpowers mine and interwinds ours together as I keep stuffing her with cock. She caresses my face gently as her tongue dominates mine in our shared kiss before I can take anymore and explode inside of her again. Momo moaned again as I filled her pussy with cum. We broke the kiss and she stared at me with a hungered ravenous look as she put me between her thighs again. Instead of plunging into her pussy she slid in between her mighty soft thighs.
I began thrusting again with reckless abandon Momo looked up at me with those big, soft eyes and said, “I want you to use every part of me. I wanna make you cum all over and in me so let go.” She smiled and I moaned before asking
“Fuck what’s gotten into you?” Momo laughs as she moves slowly across my shaft and says,
“I feel so horny baby, and I know how sometimes I neglect so I want to drain you tonight,” she said as she wrings another load out of me, but before I can even think about becoming soft she moves and wraps her big tits around my cock. She drools over her cleavage before languidly stroking me.
“Oh fuck Momo stop.” I yell as the pleasure fluctuates to pain. She shakes her head and slowly tortures me with her breasts. I writhe under her as her soft pillowy flesh comforts and confines me to her whims I moan as Momo stares at me watching me crumple into a whimpering mess for her. She smiles previously as she holds me close. Unsure of how much more I can take she relents as she gets up she palms my cock so i can't go soft.
“What's wrong babe? Aren't you having fun?” as she speaks she strokes me leaving me helpless and powerless to stop her
“I love it when you're like this all feral and cornered,” she said as she sank down. My sensitivity was at an all-time high and I could barely take it. Momo smiles.
“How’s my tight little asshole?” Momo cooed. I scream
“Fuck Momo you're tight as always.” I moan as Momo smiles at my misery. By some mercy of God, I cum quickly inside her ass. Momo smiles at me as she gets up. She slowly and diabolically grabs my shaft,
“I'm not done with you yet big boy. We are going till you pass out,” I moan in delirium as the pleasure and pain blend in my brain as she mounts me again. Her cavern is tight wet and intense. She leans in for another kiss as she essentially uses Mr as a dildo. Her pace is slow and methodical as she rides me. My vision blurs but I can see one thing. That evil fucking smirk she wears before she squished me into her tits. Instinctively I start sucking on one hoping her orgasm would make her stop. She moans as she begins to pick up the pace.
As she rides with more vigor I feel her walls cleave into my cock before a rush of liquid follows she moans and keeps riding as I pass out after another overwhelmed orgasm.
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wandascrush · 2 days
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Runaway Bride
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Summary: There’s only one person you really want on your wedding day
Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Weddings, love, crying, running away, lots of angst
Song: Someday I’ll get it by Alek Olsen
You were out of breath by the time you got there, crisp cold air hurting your chest. Your throat was as dry as sandpaper. Natasha was there, waiting for you like she always was. Your legs were tired from running, broken nude heels in your hands, beautiful and forgotten. The white flowy, soft fabric of your dress touched your body delicately, dragging and picking up the color from the wet mossy grass. Sore legs lowered down to sit on the grass next to the girl who once captured your heart…but she was silent. Just you two, alone. The air was so cold it hurt your bones. 
   You rested your head against the large oak tree that sat behind you two, making a little cove under its branches. So many thoughts were racing through your mind, “I’ve ruined everything. What will people think? I have to say sorry.” But once you saw your favorite spot waiting for you, with your favorite girl, everything melted away. You shouldn’t even be here right now, you shouldn’t have been thinking about Natasha, but she was the only person that ran through your mind. 
   “Long time no see, Natty.” 
    You’ve gotten used to her silence though, it kind of became her new character trait these days. Sometimes you pretended it didn’t hurt anymore, but it always did. A little more each time. Rain droplets started to fall around you, wetting every inch of dirt and stone. More green from the grass started to slowly seep into the beautiful white fabric of your dress. You knew her deep gaze was on you, looking at you with pity…maybe with love? 
   Your chest tightened as you blinked hard, vision blurring, “I was supposed to get married today, you know,” a sad laugh escaped your throat as you played with the fabric of your dress, “I looked beautiful. My hair was done and my makeup was perfect and-I was supposed to be happy today,” you whispered, your voice cracking. “I was supposed to be standing at that altar, looking into her eyes, promising forever. But I couldn’t even say the words. Because every time I looked at her, I saw you. And I hated myself for it.”
 “I’m so tired of missing you…and funny enough, I thought getting married would make me happier. But all I see is you. When I say my vows, it’s your name they’re written for.”
I think of you all the time, now that you’re gone.
    The rain poured down in relentless sheets, soaking through the dress. The sky above was a swirling mass of dark clouds and angry wind. Digging your manicured fingers into the soft mud, it felt like the only grounding thing. The feeling of mud seeping under your nails was the only anchor you had.
   You checked your phone, trying to wipe the rain off of it and realized that you’d already been there for over an hour with Natasha. You needed to get back, answer all the missed calls and texts. This would be the last time you two saw each other…something inside you was certain about it. Shaky legs stood up, using the big oak tree as support and grabbing the bouquet you forgot about next to you. 
   You slowly kneeled down in front of your first love, first everything, and pressed your forehead against her cold grave stone, “If love could have saved you,” breaths came in short, sharp gasps, salty tears falling into your mouth, “you would have lived forever, my Natasha.” Soft lips kissed the engraving of her name as you gently lied the bouquet down for her, grabbed your broken heels, and said goodbye. It took all your strength to not look back as you walked out of the private cemetery.
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Note
Bucky is the heir to a large mafia empire. He’s worked his way through the ranks and has accumulated a significant amount of financial wealth in the process. His childhood best friend (whom he’s had a crush on for years on end) from his (their shared) humble beginnings never lets him spoil her in any capacity, no matter how much he tries to explain that it doesn’t truly make a dent in his fortune.
Bucky hires a bodyguard for her, and it takes her a while to catch onto it. When she does, she’s livid. How dare he insinuate that she can’t protect and defend herself?
He explains that he’s not protecting her, he’s protecting his biggest weakness.
She’s not weak, how could she be a weakness to him?
His enemies know that there is absolutely nothing that he wouldn’t do for her. Again, she’s not a weakness, she’s not a weak person— she’s Bucky’s weakness, and not how she thinks.
She accepts his reasoning (begrudgingly) and facetiously asks him if he wants to get married so they can’t be forced to testify against each other in court.
He says “yes” so quickly that she finally realizes that her feelings have been reciprocated the entire time.
Mob!AU with a childhood best friends-to-lovers appetizer and an idiots-to-lovers side dish (yum 😏)
Protect Myself » Bucky Barnes (AU)
Pairings: Mafia Boss/Best Friend!Bucky Barnes x Best Friend!Female Reader
Summary: You get mad when you find out bucky has hired a bodyguard to help protect you. You make it very clear to him that you can protect yourself. The conversation takes an interesting and unexpected turn.
Warnings: Fluff, language, Best Friends to Lovers/Idiots In Love, Bucky is a big softie in this, kissing, pet names
A/N: Thank you to the lovely anonymous person who requested this🩵
Written on my phone. My apologies for any mistakes.
Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier
GIF IS NOT MINE! Credit goes to the creator.
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You stormed into Bucky’s mansion full of angry without knocking. You were stopped by one of his security guards.
“Ma’am.” The security guard stepped in front of you, stopping you in your tracks. “You need an appointment to see Mr. Barnes.” He tells you.
“I don’t need an appointment to see my own best friend.” You say.
You tried to walk past him, but he stopped you by grabbing your arm.
“Get your fucking hands off of me!” You say loudly.
Bucky heard the sound of your voice from his office all the way upstairs. He stood up from his desk and walked out of his office. He went downstairs to see you with his security guard’s hand on you.
“Take your hands off of her.” Bucky demands to his security guard.
“Sir, she-” His security guard stopped talking when he seen a look on Bucky’s face that he knows all too well.
His security guard let go of you. You glared at him before walking past him to get to Bucky.
“Go upstairs to my bedroom and I’ll be there in a minute.” Bucky says.
You nodded and went to his bedroom. Bucky looked at his security guard.
“Y/N is welcome here anytime.” He tells him. “And never, I mean never, put your hands on her again or you’re fired. Do you understand?” He says.
“I understand, sir. It won’t happen again.” The security guard says.
Bucky told him to go back to work before going upstairs to his bedroom where you are. He closed the door behind him.
“Sit down.” You demanded, pointing at the bed.
Bucky didn’t say a word and sat down on his bed.
“You and I have been best friends for years and I want to know what was going through your mind when you hired a bodyguard for me.” You say.
“To protect you.” He simply says.
“I can protect myself, James.” You say.
Bucky knows you can protect yourself. He didn’t hire the bodyguard to protect you. Well, he did, but he did it for a different reason.
“I know you can protect yourself.” He says.
“Then explains why you hired a bodyguard for me.” You say, crossing your arms over your chest.
“For a weakness.” He says.
“What weakness?” You asked. “I’m not weak.” You say.
You’re the strongest woman bucky knows. He knows you’re not weak.
“My weakness.” He said. “You’re my weakness.” He says.
“What?” You asked.
“You’re my weakness.” He repeats. “I have a lot of enemies and I don’t want anything to happen to you.” He explains.
Now you feel bad for yelling and throwing accusations at him. Bucky was always protective of you, even as kids. You should’ve know that right away, but didn’t think about it.
“If one of them got their hands on you somehow, I would be out for blood.” He says.
There it is… his soft side. Bucky is only a softie for you. He may be a big badass mafia boss to everyone, but deep down he’s just a big softie who has a crush on his best friend who he’s known all of his life.
“What are you trying to say, Bucky?” You asked.
“I love you.” Bucky blurted out. “That’s why I hired a bodyguard for you.” He says.
Your eyes went wide in surprise. James Buchanan Barnes, your best friend and a badass mafia boss, is in love with you.
“So…” You mused at the thought in your head for a moment. “Do you want to get married?” You asked facetiously.
“Yes.” Bucky answers too fast.
You opened your mouth and then closed it. You didn’t expect Bucky to say yes that fast.
Bucky reaches over to his nightstand and opened the drawer, grabbing a small velvet box. Your eyes went wide again and your mouth fell open, already knowing what’s in that small box.
“Question is…” Bucky got down on one knee and opened the small velvet box, revealing the most beautiful diamond ring you’ve ever seen. “Do you want to get married?” He asks.
You were speechless. You didn’t know what to say. What you do know is that you would be lying if you said you didn’t love him.
“Bucky, I-” You were too speechless to say anything. “What about our friendship?” You asked.
“That’s the beauty of marriage, sweetheart. We’ll still be best friends no matter what.” He says with a smile.
You stared at the diamond ring for a moment longer before answering his question.
“Yes!” You finally answered. “I’ll marry you.” You say with a smile.
Bucky smiles widely and put the ring on your ring finger. He stood up straight and kissed you passionately.
“I get to choose our honeymoon destination.” You say against his lips.
“I’m completely fine with that as long as I’m with you.” He says, kissing you again.
🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵
-Bucky’s Doll
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congrats on 5k! can i get a chocolate chip cookie🍪 for bitchykook! reader + ‘home to another one’ by madison beer
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₊˚⊹ᰔ 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐞
pairing: rafe cameron x bitchy!kook!reader
summary: ❝call me baby, i know you go back home to another one.❞ — rafe still finds a way to contact you after being with someone else for over a year.
warnings: slight angst, rafe is so mean in this one, arguing, a little bit of name calling lol
word count: 0.5k
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“why do you keep doing this?” you sighed into your phone, pinching the bridge of your nose. it was two in the morning, and of course rafe was calling you from an ‘unknown’ number. “i just wanna talk, please don’t hang up this time. just hear me out.” he whispered, making your eyebrows furrow. “why are you whispering, weirdo?” you sat up, taking his silence as your answer. “you, asshole! is she right next to you?” you gasped, getting out of bed and turning on your lamp. the nerve this man had. “no, no, no, i’m- fuck! i’m by myself.” he lied. you rolled your eyes as rafe shuffled around his room, finally deciding it was best to take this phone call somewhere where his girlfriend wasn’t sleeping.
“you’re the worst, you know that?” you ran your fingers through your hair. “yes- i know that, i know..” he trailed off. “look, i can’t do this anymore, i miss you and i need you back. this girl, she’s like a goody goody, alright? she’s boring.” you shook your head at his words. “boring? so you’ve been bored for over a year? you sound ridiculous.” you scoffed, putting him on speaker so you could examine your nails. “she’s talking about wanting to get married and having kids and shit, but i don’t even love her. we have nothing in common, i don’t know how she doesn’t see that!” you were in disbelief. “do you hear yourself? you sound like a psychopath!” you started, “why are you still with that poor girl if you feel this way?” you asked, genuinely concerned.
“i can’t just break things off with her if you won’t take me back, it defeats the whole purpose.” you narrowed your eyes even though he couldn’t see you. “what do you mean ‘it defeats the whole purpose’?” you shot back. “i thought if i got with someone else you’d regret breaking things off with me and want me again.” you couldn’t believe your ears, surely they were playing tricks on you. without knowing what to say, you stayed silent. “she doesn’t fight me, she doesn’t resist me, she doesn’t keep me on my toes, i need that.” rafe looked around, making sure he was still the only one in the room.
one of the main reasons why you broke up with rafe was because he said he wanted a girl that didn’t do everything he just listed, and now that he has that girl, he’s back on your phone saying the opposite. “you’ll never be happy with what you have, will you? you calling me has nothing to do with wanting me back, but everything to do with the fact that you’re scared to be by yourself. i may be a bitch, but i’m not cruel. leave that girl alone if you don’t love her,” you took your phone back in your hand, “and if you call me again, i’ll make sure your ‘goody goody’ girlfriend gets all the screenshots of you trying to talk to me over the course of your relationship.. if you could even call it that. don’t you ever call me again.”
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freakyformula · 2 days
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First time with the Wolf
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Summary: Reader and Toto has been dating for a year and they finally have sex for the first time.
Writers comment: This is for all the sluts with daddy issues (myself included).
Warnings: 18+, MDNI, smut obviously, fluff, daddy kink??, innocence kink, google translated german.
Word count: 3,3k
Toto Wolff.
Billionaire.
CEO of Mercedes F1 Team.
….Who also happens to be your boyfriend.
You had been seeing each other for about a year now, you caught his eye at an afterparty, and you instantly hit it off.
As you were stuck studying, you couldn't be with him at his place of work that often, but every time you got the chance, you did. Everyone at the Mercedes garage adored you, although you heard some whispering about you and Toto's age gap and your intentions with him at first.
Your life felt complete. It felt like you had everything a person could ask for. Toto was treating you like a princess, sending you gifts and even giving you his black card, encouraging you to use it. Every time you met up with him, he'd be soft with you. Not forcing you to do anything you didn't want to. Holding you close whenever you needed it. Sending you sweet texts during the day.
"Y/N, do you know the answer to this question?" The professor asks.
Shit, daydreaming again.
"Uuuuh, yes, erm…" You tried to save the awkward situation but it was in vain.
Later, you were sat on the sofa in your extravagant apartment that Toto had insisted you needed. For what, was beyond you.
"Toto, I made a complete fool of myself today and it's your fault!" You tell him over the phone.
You had a routine of calling every day to check in with each other.
"What do you mean it's my fault? I'm innocent." He argues back and sticks his tongue out playfully.
"I was thinking about you and ended up daydreaming, and then my professor asked me a question!" You explain.
"Thinking of me?" He says as he drags the last part out and points at himself. "Liebe, do you miss me as much as I miss you? I'm having a hard time staying away from you. I think about you beside me every night, about how good you feel beside me. You belong beside me." He explains.
You gasp at his words. Toto was rarely this straightforward. You couldn't help feeling a tingle in your stomach, feeling aftershocks in the rest of your body.
"Beside you…? Sir Toto, what are you implying?" You ask.
You had intentionally waited to have sex, with Toto wanting your first time to be special. You weren't a virgin or anything, but you hadn't had the courage to take on a man of Toto's size yet and he knew about it, hence why he wanted to wait. He was proud of his size and carried himself well.
"I'd like to know if you want to visit Jeddah and spend the race weekend with me and the crew? Lewis has asked when he will be seeing you again, he seems to have a weak spot for you." Toto asks.
His question didn't really come as a shock, he'd often ask multiple times if you wanted to join him on his travels.
"Toto, I, I'm afraid…" You say as you know taking a few days off wouldn't hurt. You felt overworked and could need some time off the hectic pace at school. You could ask your friends to share notes later and work on your assignments on the plane. Besides, you were in the middle of the semester, meaning no upcoming exams.
He gives you a small pout when he hears the impending rejection but lights up as you continue.
"… You'll regret ever inviting me to Jeddah, I will be pestering you and the team all weekend."
He looks up at the screen of his phone and looks confused. Then, as the words sink in, his lips turn into a wide smile. "Are you serious, Schatz?" He asks alarmingly calmly.
"One hundred percent, Toto." You confirm.
"Jesus Christ, I love you so much!" He celebrates. "I'll book the plane tickets right away, can you make it to the airport by tomorrow evening?"
"I'd love that, do I need to bring anything?"
"Only that beautiful smile of yours!" He exclaims.
And with that, you finished the call and said your goodbyes to a very excited Toto.
The next day you spent packing and arranging for your friends at school to take notes for you, thanking them for the trouble.
You made it to the airport with time to spare. You spent the spare time on your laptop, working on that one assignment that made you question your choice of studies. Finally, your boarding was called.
The flight went smoothly, and when you arrived to Jeddah, a man was waiting for you as Toto had instructed, driving you back to the hotel you and Toto were staying at.
The doormen helped you with the bags and you were escorted up to your room.
When you opened the door to the grand suite, you saw Toto standing in the middle of the room, with a bouquet of roses in his arms. He gave you a wide smile when you came into view.
You instantly ran up to him and he lifted you into his big and strong arms, peppering your face with kisses, making you giggle.
The suite was equipped with 3 bedrooms, 2 bathrooms, and a huge main living room.
Toto showed you around, holding you close.
"So… I'm assuming you'll be spending your time sleeping next to me, in my bed, right?" Toto asked carefully.
You chuckle and turn around, facing him. "It's not like I haven't done that before."
Both you and Toto were tired and soon got ready for bed. As you get in under the covers, you make yourself comfortable and wait for Toto to join you, which he does, with a certain urgency.
He hovers halfway over you, and places a soft kiss on your forehead. You lean into the kiss and look up at him, he looks like a true god like this.
"God, there's so much I want to do with you… To experience with you, Y/N."
"Show me, then." You urge him.
"Someday, I will."
And with that, both of you fall asleep.
You wake up before Toto and pry yourself free from his tight grip, making him frown and search for your lost body in his sleep.
You take a quick shower and get yourself ready for the day, rocking a floral sundress you knew Toto would love.
As you step out of the bathroom, Toto is sitting on the edge of the bed, buttoning up his white shirt. When he sees you, he gets up and walks up to you.
"Let me help you with that." You say and start working the buttons.
Toto smiles at you and grabs your hips. "Good morning, Y/N. You look so beautiful, I'm so happy you came here."
You finish up breakfast and get to the track, meeting up with Lewis again. Today, the garage was buzzing with people of all sorts. Mechanics, celebrities and fans were squashed together. And then there was you and Toto, and while he held you close, protecting you from accidental blows and rude comments, you still felt uncomfortable.
Luckily, Toto had arranged for you to stay close to him and follow the race from a peaceful spot.
You celebrated with the whole garage as George finished 3rd and Lewis finished 5th, both scoring valuable points.
Toto runs up to you, and easily lifts you up into his arms. Then, out of nowhere, he catches your lips in a deep kiss. This was the first time he showed affection in public and it took you by surprise. Feeling lost and flushed, he sets you down again.
"Congrats Toto, I know this means a lot to you." You say.
Mercedes had two rough past seasons behind them, so even if it was just a 3rd and 5th place, the whole garage celebrated as if it was a victory.
"Would you like to go out for dinner later?" He asks, "I'll have you driven back to the hotel, and I will be back after the briefings."
As you get back to the suite, you take a quick shower to freshen up. The cool water is a welcome feeling on your overheating body. You fix yourself up, apply some light makeup, and do your hair. You choose a flowy black dress, which accentuates your figure perfectly.
"Y/N?" Toto calls out.
"In here!" You yell.
He finds you and stops in his tracks, taking the sight of you in.
"Y/N… You're exquisite." He says as he gives you a quick kiss. He takes your hand and leads you out to the balcony of the suite. You stand at the railing and enjoy the view as Toto places himself behind you, he presses himself against you and traps you in place with both his hands on each side of you.
"For you, my love." He says as he hands you the box.
"Toto." You warn him, not wanting him to spoil you too often.
"Just open it, Y/N. You deserve it." He urges.
And when you inevitably open the box, you're met with the most beautiful diamond earrings you've ever seen.
You take a moment to just take in what you're holding.
"You, Y/N, are going to wear these tonight." He explains, helping you put them on, them fitting you perfectly. You look and feel expensive.
You wait for Toto to finish his shower while you admire the gemstones hanging from your ears.
Because you're in Jeddah, you decide on Middle Eastern food for the night.
Toto knows the city very well and takes you to one of the best-rated restaurants.
You spend the evening in a booth of said restaurant, babbling away.
As soon as you step into the hotel room, Toto's hands and lips are on you. He keeps a slow pace, making sure to not hurry.
You follow his lead, kissing him back and caressing his arms, slowly moving to his chest.
You part the kiss and look at his deep brown eyes, panting. "I want you, Toto."
Your words switch something on in Toto's brain. You'd never been that straightforward with him before, asking for him.
He picks you up, with you kissing and biting his neck as he walks you to the bedroom, making him groan in pain and pleasure.
Toto is a gentleman and lets you down from his arms with much care.
"Can I take this off?" Toto asks as he creeps over the zipper to your dress with his fingers.
Your mind is already failing you, and you nod, thinking it would suffice. Much to Toto's dismay, that is, as he tuts at you. "Words, schatzi."
You're struggling to form a complete sentence, so you settle for a simple "Please."
"Good girl. Doing so well for me already."
This wasn't new for your relationship, you'd done things to each other before but you hadn't gone all the way.
Toto helps you out of the dress and falls to his knees at the sight. Like a starved man, he creeps closer and places kisses on your bare chest, creeping lower and lower down. When he reaches your panties, he looks up with a questioning look, and you nod enthusiastically.
With the confirmation, he leans down to your heat again, grabs the panties with his teeth, and proceeds to pull them down. Looking at him doing this to you of all people, and him enjoying it, was ecstasy. When your pussy comes into view, he lets the panties fall to the floor, giving your mound a feather-light kiss.
You can feel his breath on your lower stomach, and you grab his hair and pull him closer to you. Toto takes it as an invitation to keep going with what he's doing. This time though, he comes closer to your aching core, parting your folds and placing a kiss between them. You're shaking at this point and Toto takes notice. Standing was starting to become hard.
"Y/N, sit down on the edge of the bed."
You do as you're told and sit on the edge of the bed with your hands in your lap.
You follow Toto's movements as he takes his shirt and pants off, leaving only his underwear on.
When he creeps closer to you, your hands reach out for him.
You frown when he stops just of your reach.
"What do you want, Y/N? Come get it." He says.
You sigh, and get up on your knees. You bend forward and pull on his hands, guiding him to you. This must have been thought out ahead of time because your face ends up where Toto's bulging length is. Your mouth waters at the sight and you look up at him, asking for permission.
"Go ahead, Y/N."
You place your hands on his chest and slide them lower down, passing by his nipples, abs, and crotch.
As your hand touches his cock through the fabric, it twitches, and Toto lets out a small grunt.
You tease and pass by the lining of his underwear, grabbing it and pulling down on them slowly, just to let go. You start palming his cock and Toto barely keeps control over himself. You can see that vein in his temple, and it's about to pop.
As you slowly pull his underwear again, intending to tease him further, you drag them a little too low and his manhood slides out.
You look at it with big eyes, thinking how it's ever going to fit in you.
You softly grab it and steer it towards your mouth. You lick the head of his cock slowly and look up at him. He looks at you with such admiration in his eyes that you can feel yourself creaming between your legs.
Toto grabs your hair and pulls it into a makeshift ponytail.
"Open up." He demands.
You open up for his length and you're able to take a fourth of him until you start to gag. Toto doesn't press you further but keeps the pace for you. You grab the rest of him with your hands and start pumping him at the same time.
Toto must have been so close because he pulls you off and gently takes your hands into his. Bending down, he kisses you deeply, helping you lie down on the bed. He follows and lies down beside you, with half of his body on top.
"Can I mount you?" He asks.
Now this, this was new. He'd never been on top of you before.
"Y-yes." You whisper, barely audible.
"Don't be scared, Y/N. You're doing so well, do you want me?"
You scoff at his question, "Of course, Toto. It's just, I'm scared it'll hurt."
"I know you're scared, that's why I'm asking if you're sure you want to do this with me. There's nothing I want more right now, but if you're not comfortable, I'm ready to wait. With that said, I can't promise it won't hurt, but I will be as careful as I possibly can.
You process his words carefully.
"O-okay." You stutter, "I'm ready."
Toto smiles at you and hovers over you. He leans in and licks your lips and you grant him access to your mouth. He kisses you deeply and wrestles with your tongue for dominance.
His hands slide down your sides and stop at your hips, lifting them up giving him easier access to your warm and pulsating heat. His mouth leaves marks everywhere it comes into contact with, making you moan.
Now it's his turn to tease you. He goes down, sucking on your tits and nipples, leaving kisses on your stomach, leaving lovebites on your thighs and kissing the insides of your thighs, moving from one leg to another without touching you where you needed him most.
"Please, Toto, need you!" You beg.
"Patience, love." He tells you off.
He keeps admiring and praising your body for what feels like forever. Finally, you feel a kiss on your mound, followed by a lick along your drenched slit.
The feeling makes you buck your hips, making him grab your hips with his arms and hold you down.
He starts eating you out at such an unforgiving pace that you cum almost instantly. He lets you calm down before he adds a finger and it slides inside you easily. He starts pumping it slowly, pressing it up against your G-spot.
"Oh god, Toto!" You exclaim.
He adds another finger and he watches as your eyes roll back.
Another finger, the stretch feels uncomfortable at first but you get used to it fast. Especially since he keeps his mouth on your clit. Deeming you ready for him, he hovers over you.
"Ready to do this with me, liebe?"
You start nodding but remember his demand.
"Yes, please Toto, take it slow?" You ask.
"I'll be as careful as I can, Y/N. I promise."
And with that said, he lines himself up with you and starts pressing on your entrance. You feel yourself opening up slightly and tense up, pushing his tip out again.
"Relax for me, Y/N. Deep breaths."
He instructs you on your breathing while he presses his tip in. You yelp at the feeling but quickly calm down as Toto starts caressing your cheek and encouraging you.
"You're taking my cock so well schatzi."
"Breath for me."
"Look at you, so beautiful beneath me."
"Those earrings look so good on you, I knew it was a good investment."
He'd shower you with compliments and affection which made the pain a little more manageable.
You gasp in pain as you feel your entrance giving way to his huge member.
"I'm sorry for hurting you, liebling."
As he pushes himself in a little bit further, you writhe in pain.
But then, when he starts pulling back and slowly pushing in, further each time, it feels good.
You moan in unison when he bottoms out within you. The pain has subsided and all you feel now is pure pleasure.
Toto pumps into you at a relentless pace, making you see stars and yelling out your second orgasm.
"Ride me?" He asks and you follow his lead as he bends backwards, ending up on his back. Without parting, you start riding him, slowly at first, but increasing the pace as you get more comfortable.
Toto is massaging and kissing your tits as you look each other deep in the eyes. This position is giving him easy access to your clit, tits, and your ass.
"I'm cumming, Y/N…" He says as he grabs your hips and starts pistoning his hips into you.
You watch his contorted face as he cums deep inside you, painting your walls white with his seed.
He kisses your face languidly as botho of you catch your breath, and you process what just happened.
"I'm so sorry I had you wait for almost a year before we did this." You admit.
"I guess we have a lot of catching up to do then." Toto smirks at you.
"Now, wait here." He instructs as he hurries off to the bathroom.
When you hear rippling you decide to disobey his orders and follow him to the bathroom.
As you turn the corner, you see Toto running a bath.
"Thought you might want to clean yourself up. Here, I'll help you." He says as he helps you into the warm water. He stays with you, assisting with the loofah and leaving kisses on your body.
After a while Toto sinks down behind you, enjoying the warm water as much as you. You spend your evening there, just soaking and talking. When you get up, Toto helps drying you off and wraps you up in a bathrobe.
"Thank you for tonight, Toto."
"Thank you, Y/N. We need to do this again, soon."
This was the definition of love. No way you could go back to your ordinary life after this.
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I would have bled out in the parking lot
Amber Nicole Thurman's death is on Trump's hands
Bess Kalb
Sep 17
In 2019, about six weeks after my first child was born, I found myself on the bathroom floor in a small, but nonetheless unsettling puddle of blood.
“Oh no,” I remember thinking. “I just did the laundry.”
I called out my husband’s name, but the sound caught in my throat. The pain I felt inhaling to get enough air out of my lungs to yell the two syllables in “Char-lie” jabbed my guts like a bicycle spoke to the abdomen.
So I was quiet, trying to keep breathing in a way that didn’t move anything inside me, and the pain pulsed a bit, then steadied, then dulled, then evaporated into whatever hell ether it came from.
Because there is no G-d (unless there is, in which case I abbreviated His name so as not to desecrate it, and also thank you, King of the Universe, for subscribing to this newsletter) this was the one time in my life I hadn’t brought my phone with me to the bathroom.
I decided to sort of slither-lumber to the door like a lame harbor seal, because I didn’t want to stand and loosen the spoke that had just stabbed me. I reached for the knob and let the door creak open.
The cat was there, looking at me right at eye level, keenly aware what was happening, and completely unmoved by it.
“You are dying,” he blinked, “Pity. Have a nice time.” He sashayed away.
Fortunately, our house in Los Angeles was small enough that from the bathroom door one could see everything. My husband was sitting on the couch with our infant, and I knocked on the open door to summon him. Within one one thousandth of a second, he set the baby on the (since-recalled) donut pillow and was holding my head.
I sat up. I breathed. No pain. I took a picture of the bloody mess on my husband’s phone, texted it to myself, he found my phone, then I texted the picture to my OBGYN.
Apologies for being graphic, but within the puddle there was something roughly the size and shape and color of a fig.
“Is this ok?” I said to my doctor, the bicycle spoke scraping lightly at my insides again from all the lumbering.
“Come in,” she replied.
Within two hours, I was in the waiting room of her office, accompanied by my terrified but SMILING mother, who was still, as is the Jewish custom, in town for “a few days or so” after the birth.
An ultrasound which felt like the finger of Satan himself revealed there was retained placenta in my uterus. If I hadn’t come in, there would have been more hemorrhaging, then sepsis, then whatever the cat foretold.
The next day, I was in surgery getting a Dilation and Curettage.
I went home, pumped the anesthesia milk, then fell asleep perfectly fine, my sweet newborn cooing merrily in the bassinet next to his alive mother.
Amber Nicole Thurman’s story was the same as mine, but it happened to her in Georgia in 2024, not California in 2019. She was a Black woman in a healthcare system that disproportionately kills Black women, especially postpartum. In 2021, the Black maternal mortality rate was nearly three times the rate it is for white women. Post-Roe, the toll is and will continue to be staggering.
Because post-Roe, the procedure that saved my life, the D&C, is something doctors cannot perform in states where matters of life and death have been left up to non-medical Christian-supremacist superstitions.
I know the pain Amber Thurman felt when that placenta dislodged and carved its tiny, treacherous hole in her uterine wall. I know the terror she felt when she saw the blood, and the rush of dread when she thought of what her child would do without her.
And when I vote in November for Kamala Harris and every progressive down-ballot candidate, I will do it because she can’t. And I will do it so that women in Georgia and Idaho and Texas and North Dakota and South Dakota and Utah, Arizona, Nebraska Iowa, Missouri, Arkansas, Louisiana, Mississippi, Alabama, Tennessee, Kentucky, Indiana, Florida, South Carolina, and West Virginia won’t have to meet the same completely preventable doom.
This election isn’t just about Amber Thurman. Every day of my lucky, breathing life is about Amber Thurman. Because the only thing that separates us, is one of us bled out under the right Supreme Court.
Let’s raise absolute federal hell about it.
-- From Bess Kalb's newsletter The Grudge Report. I pay for this substack -- though it's free-- and think this is a message worth sharing far beyond her newsletter.
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user211201 · 3 days
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Modulated
--- Original author: realhankmccoy ---
“I ain’t no motherfuckin’ redneck, you assholes! Don’t you fucking get it? I’ll never be ok with you being here and disrespecting our gay spaces!” I had shrieked and screamed, and I was being sassy as fuck. But they had darted me, so it was too late for me already. I had been one of the hottest little twinks in Colombia back then. I had such a tight little body, I was non-binary, and I was supportive of my local drag scene. I was absolutely into resisting these fucking fascists and their goddamn bullshit lifestyles, which I couldn’t stand.
That’s how I thought of it all back then, anyhow.
Man, that dart though, it had done its dirty work. I was writhing on the floor of the club, so I didn’t even get to witness the way it transformed me as I went into spasms. It was almost like having a seizure, but I could feel the muscle growing on me, and I could hear my shrieks and wails shift in pitch as I grew on into this whole new, far more masculine body.
I was getting to be built like a brick shithouse really fucking fast, and was taking on more of a mature look. Everywhere I was getting more muscle. I was splitting the seams of my jeans, and my underwear, and felt my back pressing up and splitting my tight pink t-shirt.
When I finally was able to sit up, I was in a daze. I had rendered my clothes asunder. I had bristles of hair all over my face, and the har on my head had grown longer, too, sort of flopping in my eyes. I was a mess.
And then the headache came. I was clutching the sides of my head and moaning, almost screaming in pain out loud, as my twinkish mind collapsed and got replaced by a growing part of me I didn’t even know existed. That part, my friends, is the motherfucking, take-charge redneck stud I am today.
My friends helped me get out of there, and I was still in transition. It takes a good seventy-two hours at least until you can fully collapse one of those weak-ass brains like the one I had before and until a more dominant, superior personality takes over like the one I was starting to get.
So yeah, like I said, I was a mess, and when my friends got me back to one of their apartments, I was still sporadically ranting about how dare those fascists do this to me, they’d never win, this was fucking awful. But as I heard myself talk, there was a growing part of me that was observing myself and thinking “so what? You sound like a raving lunatic. Look at this body! Damn, boy, just look at that muscle!”
Sleeping on it, man, that twink brain of mine must have collapsed even further. I woke up and I just wanted coffee with a splash of alcohol in it, so that’s what I got. Then I added two splashed. I had already stripped out of my shredded pink t-shirt, and my friends had some loose boxers that fit me, but I was just this naked, muscular stud in awe of his own body and trying to come to terms with who I was now.
I was seeing my friends with new eyes, too. They seemed anxious to me, weak, full of nervous, overly feminine motions, jittery, immature, skittish and mostly just kind of fucking annoying. “Those are your friends,” I’d remind myself. “This isn’t you who’s thinking this.”
But that growing part of me was thinking “This is you. This is all you, stud. You’re so much better than them. They don’t even know you’re thinking this, and if they only knew, they’d probably be terrified.” That thought made me want to laugh out loud, so I did.
“What are you laughing at?” one of them asked.
“Oh, nothing man, nothing,” I said, looking away and scratching my head. “These are your friends,” I told myself again, but I didn’t really seem to believe what I was trying to tell myself that morning. “So what if they’re your fucking friends,” my new mind was saying. “They’re fucking losers, man. Don’t let them drag you down. You ought to just get out of here.”
That morning, I was feeling just hornier and altogether more fucked up than I’d ever been. I was thinking, nah, this can’t be the new me. I’m no motherfucking redneck. I don’t think like them. But already I was feeling excited, having this body, having these different feelings, realising that I didn’t feel like such an evil guy like this, not like I thought I would, anyhow. All I wanted to do at that point in time, I felt like, was get the hell away from these people. I didn’t know to where. I borrowed some shoes and a t-shirt that was so tight it hurt, pleading that I had to get back to my apartment. It felt like the shoes would split, and the shirt was riding up on my belly, as I trotted back to my place.
I didn’t know what I was doing or what I was gonna do. When I got home, I felt thirsty, just wanting to drink a little, feeling like that would make this feel better, even though I told myself no, you have to compose yourself, you have to call people, you have to report this. Just one drink, I thought. It turned into shot after shot, and before I knew it, I was drunk, hard in my boxers, having kicked off the shoes and thrown that tight-ass shirt on the ground as soon.
Then I was beating off, and cumming, and the build-up to that orgasm, man, it flooded my brain with some real redneck juice. I wasn’t thinking of the type of guys I usually did. I was thinking about redneck studs, studs like myself, feeling the drool run down my chin as I beat off. As I came, shooting way up on my pecs, rubbing it in with my hand, I was whispering to myself, almost like a confession that I had yet to voice to anyone, “You hot fucking redneck. Holy fuck, you love this, don’t you. You’re a redneck now. Holy fuck. Holy fuck.”
The desire to live for working out and fucking was already growing in me.
Thoughts were just racing through my head then. I knew I didn’t want to be some lame-ass yuppie or some weak-ass queer, man. I felt this powerful attraction to the redneck scene, the working class scene, the country scene, the military scene, the jock scene, you name it, any scene were men were men instead of the glitter fairy I had been before. I couldn’t quite pin it all down at that point yet, but my thoughts were sure racing.
Can you picture me, getting drunk in my apartment, turned on at my own body and swirling thoughts? And then I started to really know, man. I started to know. There was no going back now. The guy I used to be was a loser. I didn’t want to be him anymore. I was pissed off that I ever even was him.
I walked barefoot into the bedroom, checking out his stuff in the drawers and on the walls. Almost none of it would even fit me anymore. His feminine attire and the way his shithole apartment was decorated disgusted me. It made me want to punch the wall, even, so I did that and it felt good. I saw the paint crack and the drywall cave in. This new body had power.
I screamed then, a roar of pure rage and exhilaration. I punched the wall again, and it felt so fucking good that soon I was ripping all his shit off the walls and throwing it in a corner, ripping that flouncy shit off the mattress and I didn’t stop, screaming the whole while, until the bedroom at least look bare bones enough to resemble something a man would want to sleep in. I’d be damned if I ever let that loser back into this mind.
There were a few flashes, sure, and man was he a crybaby as he went out, as well as one hell of an angry little prick. Lots of hatred in his heart. I’d just laugh and say, “Fuck you!” sometimes out loud as I felt that twink brain collapse forever.
And now, as far as I’m concerned, he’s gone man. No longer a part of me, thank God.
I was nervous at first, when I started trying to hang out with guys I thought I’d have a lot more in common with that my old friends. Would they accept me? I was pretty desperate for acceptance at that point. I starting hanging out at a diner that I knew a lot of them liked to frequent, classic diner that pre-dated even the 1950s, a real antique. But these sexy ass guys would show up there, and soon we got to talking over waffles and hash browns.
Soon I was telling them I was darted, and they were saying that was hot as fuck, wanting to hear the story. Soon I was telling it to them, my legs in the air, sweat dripping down my bearded chin, as I was getting fucked.
Months after that, I was almost fully integrated into the lifestyle, man, and soon I was the one doing more of the fucking, especially after I got these sweet-ass tattoos all over my right arm. Getting fully into it, the desire to be that all I could be as man, hell, it ran in my veins now. I was going to let those commies know that I was better than them in every single way imaginable, and I wanted to show it off. I still get hard just at the thought of that, demonstrating my own superiority in the most tangible – well, to them, intangible, because I don’t want them even fucking touching me – methods available to me.
Yeah boys, it meant war for me, just like it had when I was a stupid twink, only this time I was playing for the other side, and it was chess instead of checkers.
Of course, there’s a lot more to life than just that for me, namely having hot-ass sex with all sorts of country studs and military men, hell, being part of that whole network of strong and powerful men who worship and respect other guys who’ve worked for it. I feel like I’m serving my country and being a paragon of virtue for it even when my legs are slung over some guy’s bull neck and thick, rounded deltoids as he plows the fuck out of me with his long-ass rod.
I had never gotten fucked this good when I was a twink.
I do real work with myself now, a man’s work. I dress like a man, I eat like a man, and I live my life like a man. I’m fucking proud of it, too. I love who I am now, and relocated to the other side of town, too, where the action’s hotter and I have way more in common with most folks.
I am sure glad I’m a buff stud with a thick-ass chest these days, and I don’t ever go clean-shaven. Been really into guy’s pits lately, and getting them to flex for me so I can lick those. Yeah, shit, I’ve gotta stop, because here I’ve got a raging boner just telling you all about that right now. I swear I’m way more horny than I used to be. At least seventy-five percent of the time now, I’d bet, I’m a top these days.
I don’t really like bottom boys, either. Their mere existence tends to piss me off, to be honest, so when I do fuck them I tend to be an aggressive power top. A lot of the time I don’t even think of it that way, though. I just think of them as so weak that the same rules don’t even apply to them. Different rules, in a way, because they’re a different kind of guy than me. Much more like women, unable to control themselves, you know how they are. I used to be one of them, and I’m so glad I’m not anymore, that’s for fucking sure.
A lot of the time I prefer to just fool around with guys such as myself. I love topping another top, having to wrestle somebody for hours in a strength and dominance competition. Gets the blood flowing. I like somebody who puts up a fight. C’mon, son, do you have any idea how fucking fun that is for me now? To meet up and hook up with another guy who’s just as manly as I am? That’s the stuff I live for now. I’m ready to just fuck my life away with hot ass guys at this point.
So, yeah, I’m a top who loves to wrestle with other tops and see who can dominate. I must be pretty good at it if I swear I’m scoring a seventy-five percent these days, but that’s just because occasionally I throw in some twink losers. Yeah bud, even some of these leftists get thrown a bone by me every now and again. They need us, and I like them to know they need us. They wouldn’t know what to do without us.
One of these days, I might even check with one of my army friends and see if I can come along on a mission so that I can dart one of them myself. I think I’d laugh my ass off when my dart goes in his neck or his shoulder, wherever it his him. Just to see the look on his face, shit boy. That could turn a guy on just by imagining it, so one of these days I’ll have to make it legit.
Fuck if I care about the loser I once used to be or what I’m supposed to be doing with my life. My life is better now and that’s all that matters to me.
Hot-ass guys, man. That’s what I live for.
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parkerslatte · 3 days
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Clouded | Part Two
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Eris Vanserra x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 7.3k
Warnings: blood and injury. violence. near death experience. death and gore. scars.
Summary: After collapsing in her garden and revealing something he never thought he would, Eris is left fighting for his life once more, unable to heal his wounds. Y/N asks for help in the most unlikely of places.
A Court of Thorns and Roses Masterlist
Part One || Part Two
•••
Y/N stared at the wall in front of her, unable to stop her racing heart. It had taken her a while to drag Eris from her front garden back into her house, laying him atop of her bed comfortably. She hadn’t left his bedside since. That had been seven hours ago. 
The revelation that Eris was her mate had shocked her to the core. Y/N never thought she had a mate— never thought she was deserving of that kind of love. But it made sense in her mind now. Why she had been so drawn to Eris. Why the thought of him crossed her mind so often despite how he treated her. Even when she loved him once upon a time, she always craved his touch and to be in his presence. 
As he lay on the bed in front of her, Y/N slowly moved her hand to clasp his. Just the feeling of his hand in hers sent her senses into overdrive. She craved more. 
There was a pressure deep within her that she tried to pull on, force it to snap. No matter how hard she tried, Y/N couldn’t force it. Perhaps if she could then she could help him, save him. 
The rise and fall of his chest seemed to become shallower the more Y/N looked at him. She wasn’t sure what else she could do. 
Tears sprung to Y/N’s eyes. She didn’t love Eris anymore, that love had long been buried beneath centuries of displeasure, hatred and annoyance. But since discovering the scars on his back from the torture he endured at the hand of his own father, Y/N felt her walls crumble the smallest amount. 
For over five hundred years, Y/N was led to believe that Eris despised the ground she walked on. Believed that the love they once shared was fake and one sided. But everything Eris did, everything that he ever said was for a reason. To protect her. 
Y/N brought Eris’s hand up to her mouth and pressed a soft kiss against his knuckles. 
“Why didn’t you ever tell me?” Y/N whispered against his skin. “You stupid male.” She let out a long shaky breath. “And now…you are basically lying on your deathbed. Please wake up.”
Y/N watched as his chest moved in shallow breaths. She had cleaned all of the blood away. If it weren’t for the wounds on his sides it would look as if he were sleeping peacefully. Y/N could only wish he was. 
***
Another three hours had passed and Y/N still hadn’t left Eris’s side. Her hand was still clasped in his. Her hand was now hot and sweaty but she didn’t care. Feeling his skin, feeling the slight warmth still within it eased her. 
“Eris, please wake up,” Y/N begged. “I have so much to say to you.”
Eris didn’t respond. There wasn’t even a flutter of his eyelid. Y/N sighed. 
“If I leave you to get a drink, you won’t die on me will you? Because I will bring you back and kill you myself if you do,” Y/N said with a defeated sigh. “I don’t know how to help you myself. I wish I knew how.”
With a quick glance toward her small desk situated in the corner of the room, an idea formed in Y/N’s mind. It was a long shot but she would do anything to help Eris right now. 
She spared one glance at Eris and shuffled to the desk and picked up a piece of parchment and a quill and began to write. 
***
Two days had passed since Y/N sent her letter and she heard no word in response. There was a crushing disappointment on her shoulders. Eris had shown no signs of waking any time soon. And what made everything worse was the gash in his side was not healing the way it should. Veins spread out and Y/N just knew that it was an infection. 
She had used nearly all of her money on salves and potions to try and heal it but all of her attempts were futile. Nothing worked. 
As Y/N moved to the living room, she noticed a small movement out of the corner of her eye. Her head snapped in the direction. There was nothing there. Y/N sighed and closed her eyes. She had been alone for too long to the point where she was seeing things. 
Y/N picked up her discarded glass and brought it into her kitchen area. She placed it on the counter and leant against it and let her head fall. The weight falling upon her shoulders made her want to collapse and never stand back up. 
“Y/N L/N,” a deep voice sounded through her house. 
Startled, Y/N lifted her head and fumbled around for a knife and held it in front of her. Standing before her was a winged male, shadows swarmed around his shoulders, blocking out all the light from her small window. 
“Who are you?” Y/N asked, the knife in her hand shaking. 
“You sent a letter,” the male said, his voice smooth. 
The hand holding the arm faltered. “You’re from the Night Court.”
There was a ghost of a smile on the male’s face. “Isn’t it obvious.”
Y/N let out a breath and placed the knife back on the countertop. “You could have knocked on my door like a normal person.”
“I could have done that but I needed to make sure that everything you said in your letter was genuine,” the male said. “My name is Azriel.”
“Y/N,” she said, lifting her hand for a handshake.
Azriel seemed to hesitate for a brief moment before clasping his hand in hers. Y/N shook it firmly. “So you read my letter? About Eris?”
“I wouldn’t be here if we didn’t,” Azriel said. “Although it wasn’t the letter we expected from Autumn.”
Y/N frowned. “What do you mean?”
“We have been expecting a letter from Eris for weeks now,” Azriel said. “Now we understand why.”
Y/N didn’t pry further. “Do you wish to see him?”
Azriel only nodded and followed Y/N into her bedroom. Her heart clenched once more at Eris laying in her bed, skin even more pale than it had been the day previous. 
“He hasn’t shown any sign of waking up,” Y/N explained. “I have tried to do everything to help him but no salve or potion does anything.”
Azriel looked at the wound on Eris’s side. 
“I heard about your High Lady and her pregnancy and how she birthed a child with wings. So I thought your court might be able to help with Eris,” Y/N said. 
Azriel nodded. “How do you know Eris?”
Y/N folded her arms across her chest. “We were childhood friends.”
“Were?” Azriel questioned
“We grew apart,” Y/N said. “We haven’t really spoken…nicely to one another in over five hundred years.”
“No romantic feelings involved?” Azriel asked. 
Y/N hesitated. “No. Why?”
Azriel shrugged. “Sometimes a mate can help with healing even the gravest of injuries.”
Y/N didn’t respond, only shuffled her feet slightly. 
“You don’t need to lie,” Azriel said, and his gaze seemed to soften. “I can scent the mating bond. It’s as clear as anything.”
“You can?” Y/N asked, fear rising within her. 
Azriel nodded. “I believe it is only because you are in close proximity to him. It hasn’t snapped for you yet.”
Y/N shook her head, her shoulders slumping. “No. I keep trying to force it. I thought I could possibly help but no matter how hard I try.”
“Don’t force it,” Azriel said. “Just let it happen naturally.”
“I know,” Y/N said and slumped down in the chair by the bed. “It’s just strange. I never thought I had a mate. And now it is with someone I hate and thought hated me. I don’t even know why I’m telling you this.”
“People say I’m a good listener,” Azriel said. “And hate isn’t the word I would suggest to go with your actions. I will send word to Rhys to gather others who can possibly help.”
“Thank you,” Y/N said, relieved. 
Azriel nodded. “I will return with others shortly.”
Y/N nodded and soon enough Azriel was gone, not leaving a single trace. 
Once she was alone, Y/N moved from the chair to the edge of the bed and took Eris’s hand in hers. “I thought I hated you. Maybe part of me still does. For the things you said to me and about me to your father. For abandoning me when everything was hard. But after seeing your scars and how desperate you were to get away from me, I think I understand why. Your father almost killed you.” Y/N’s eyes burned. “And he might have succeeded if there was nothing to help you.”
Y/N gently brushed the few strands of Eris’s hair that were plastered across his forehead. “Please wake up.”
***
When Y/N awoke, she was confused. She hadn’t remembered falling asleep. As she woke her head rested upon her bed, her hand still linked in Eris’s. He hadn’t moved at all. 
There was a knock on her front door and she immediately sat up. She straightened out her clothes and tried to make her hair a little bit more presentable before going to open her front door. 
It revealed the High Lord of the Night Court standing beside Azriel.
“Y/N L/N,” the High Lord of Night, Rhys, said.
Y/N bowed her head. “High Lord.”
Rhys waved his hand dismissively. “Please just call me Rhys. Now, show me where Eris is. I have brought my best healer.”
A weight was lifted from Y/N’s shoulders. “He’s just through here.” Y/N walked quickly to her bedroom. “I assume Azriel told you about how he collapsed and hasn’t woken up.”
“And the fact that you are mates,” Rhys said. “You can’t feel the bond can you?”
“No,” Y/N said. “It hasn’t snapped for me.”
Rhys nodded. “Good. Because this isn’t going to be a feeling you want to have accidentally passed down that bond.”
“What?” Y/N said, moving her body to stand in front of Eris, suddenly feeling protective. “What are you going to do to him?”
“What is needed,” the healer Rhys brought along said. 
Azriel stepped forward. “Madja is the best healer the Night Court has. She’s Eris’s best chance at the moment.”
Y/N looked back at Eris. If it weren’t for the shallow rise and fall of his chest, he would look like he was dead. She slowly nodded. “Okay, do what you must.”
Madja looked at Y/N expectantly. 
Y/N looked around the room to find all eyes on her. “What?”
“You’re his mate,” Madja said. “To heal him, I will need some of your blood.”
Y/N’s eyes widened in surprise as she turned to Azriel. “I told you that a mate can heal some of the gravest injuries.”
“But you never said it consisted of my blood,” Y/N said. 
Azriel only shrugged. 
Y/N turned back to face Madja. “How much would you need?”
“Not too much,” she answered, setting up next to Eris. 
Y/N sat down in the chair next to her and Madje took Y/N’s hand and cut her palm. SHe guided it over to Eris’s mouth. 
“Wouldn’t this be easier to drip into a goblet?” Y/N questioned.
Madja shook her head. “The blood needs to be directly from the source of the mate. It would be useless if you were to use a goblet.”
Y/N only nodded as her blood dripped into Eris’s mouth. A drop fell onto his cheek from where it had run down Y/N’s arm. It was scaly vibrant against Eris’s pale skin. 
“That should be enough,” Madja said.
Y/N stilled and waited. And waited. And waited. Nothing changed. Eris was still barely alive. 
As Madja wrapped a bandage around her hand, Y/N’s eyes remained on Eris, tears sprang to her eyes. “Why didn’t it work?”
“Whatever Beron did to him must have been severe,” Rhys said. 
“But you said that a mate can heal the gravest of injuries,” Y/N said. 
“They can in certain circumstances,” Madja said. “Although this time it seems as if he needs something more.”
“What does he need?” Y/N asked desperately. Although some colour had returned to Eris’s cheeks, he still looked half dead. 
“The power of a High Lord,” Madja answered. 
Out of the corner of her eye she noticed Azriel turning to Rhys. Y/N looked at them. “What? What is it?”
Her question wasn’t answered as Azriel spoke up. “Is it time, Rhys?”
Rhys rubbed his brow and sighed. “It is time.”
“Time for what?” Y/N asked. “What is happening?”
“Many years ago we made a deal with Eris. In exchange for his help, he made sure that when the time comes, we would help with killing his father,” Rhys explained. “I hadn’t realised that this would come this soon.”
“Killing his father?” Y/N asked. 
“Yes,” Rhys said. “Eris has always wanted power and he will go to any means to get it.”
Y/N frowned. “Power isn’t the only reason for his deal.”
“Why else would he want his father dead?” Rhys asked. 
Y/N gestured to the wounds on his body. “His father tortures him. He is only like this because of him. His back is covered in scars, each one inflicted by his father. God knows how long this has been going on for.”
Looking back at Eris on the bed, Y/N gently clasped his hand in hers once more. “None of you know Eris like I did. I’ve known him since we were children and we were inseparable. I guess it didn’t take us much to fall in love because that was what our relationship was like. Even before we confessed, we acted as if we were in love. The only thing I hated was how late we confessed. We were twenty and it was just after his birthday and we were so happy. I thought I would marry him, but the moment his brother was born, he changed.”
“He became distant and rarely spoke to me. It wasn’t long before he wanted to be nowhere near me. He was cruel and mean, not just to me, but to most people. It wasn’t long before he avoided me altogether,” Y/N finished.
“And you still love him after that,” Rhys questioned.
“I never said I still love him,” Y/N said. “At least I don’t think I still do. I think part of me will always hate him for the things he said to me. But…before he passed out he said that everything he did was to protect me from his father. And while he was passed out, I was thinking about what happened between Lucien and Jessiminda. I remember needing to clean the floor of her blood.”
“And you believed him?” Rhys asked.
Y/N squeezed Eris’s hand. “There is still a lot I need to talk to him about.”
Eris’s hand was cold and it was so uncommon for him. She remembered whenever Y/N was cold when they were younger, Eris would always like their fingers and use his powers to warm her up. Y/N smiled slightly at the memory. 
“Are you sure you don’t love him, Y/N?” Azriel questioned. 
There was a small pause. 
“Of course I don’t,” Y/N said, her voice wavering. 
Luckily for her, Azriel didn’t continue with his interrogation, instead he immediately began describing the plan they had set in place. 
“However, instead of Eris, you will need to take his place, Y/N,” Azriel said. 
“Me?” Y/N asked. “Why?”
“The deal we have with Eris is that we help him kill his father, we are merely there to assist with any of the protective measures Beron has placed in the way. Eris wanted to make the killing blow,” Rhys explained.
“And since Eris is currently unable to help in any way, we need someone else,” Azriel said. 
Y/N frantically looked between Azriel and Rhys. “What about one of his brothers? What about Lucien?”
“Ever since Lucien was run out of the Autumn Court, he does not have the freedom to walk around like you do, the moment he crosses the border into Autumn, there will be a bounty on his head. And besides, by the time he arrives here from the human lands, Eris is as good as dead,” Rhys said. 
Y/N sighed and looked at Eris. If she could do anything to help him, she would. Even if that included killing the High Lord of the Autumn Court. 
“What is the plan?” Y/N asked. 
***
Everything went as planned. One by one Rhys, Azriel and Cassian picked off any guard Beron had posted until he was vulnerable. A blade given to her by Azriel was concealed in her skirts. All she needed to do was get close enough to him and stab him. That was all she needed to do. 
But the closer she came to his office, the more her nerves began to rise. What will happen if she cannot distract him long enough to get closer? What will happen if the guards on the other side of the Forest House hear of what was happening? What will happen if Beron gets to her first?
Y/N shook her head, hoping to keep those thoughts at bay for a moment. As she stood in front of Beron’s study she raised her hand and knocked. There was a slight shuffling from inside before the door swung open. 
Y/N held her breath as Beron looked down at her. A wicked smile stretched across his face. 
“Y/N,” he said. “I never thought I would see your face around here again.”
Y/N tried her best to keep her voice steady as she replied. “I have the rest of the money my father owed you.”
Surprise filled Beron’s eyes. Y/N hated how similar his and Eris’s eyes were. In fact, she hated all the similarities between Beron and Eris. Although Beron’s hair was a dark brown, streaked with grey, his face was just an older version of Eris’s. But there was one stark difference. While Beron’s face was filled with cold cruelty, Eris’s features were softer and warmer. They were features Y/N had fallen in love with. Beron’s were features she hated. 
“Come in,” Beron said, opening the door a little wider. 
Y/N stepped past him and pulled a pouch of money out of her small bag. She placed it down on the desk. The money would only stay money for an hour. Once that hour was up it would turn back to regular pebbles. 
“Where did you get this?” Beron questions, picking up one of the gold marks. 
“I have been saving to leave the Autumn Court,” Y/N said, reciting the phrases she had been practising in her head. “I thought I would use the leftover money to pay off the debt. I believe this should be more than enough.”
Beron hummed and let the gold mark fall back into the pouch. Y/N flinched as it made the sound of a pebble hitting a pebble, not metal hitting metal. She hoped Beron wouldn’t notice. The weight of the blade concealed in her skirts got even heavier. 
“May I ask you a question, Y/N?” Beron asked, his voice unusually relaxed.
“Of course, my lord,” Y/N replied, trying to keep her voice steady. She hadn’t rehearsed for any impromptu questions. 
“No need to look so on edge,” Beron said, leaning against his desk. “I was only curious about the whereabouts of my son.”
“Which one?” Y/N asked, her voice quiet.
Beron laughed, though there was no warmth behind it. “What a sense of humour. But I am sure you know which one I am talking about. My eldest, Eris.”
“I am not sure, my lord,” Y/N said, keeping her hand from fidgeting. 
“Are you sure?” Beron said. “Because the last time I saw him, he mentioned something about you.”
“Did he?” Y/N asked, genuinely curious. 
Beron nodded. “He did. He mentioned something about the debt you owe and a way to make you pay for it.”
Y/N chuckled nervously. “Well he might have known about my plans to leave the court. I haven’t seen him since the day I ran into him while working.”
“Are you sure?” Beron asked, leaning closer.
Y/N nodded, afraid to trust her voice. 
Beron didn’t reply as he stepped closer, so close Y/N could smell the whisky on his breath. She wanted to flinch away but she could show no sign of weakness. Beron’s fingers lightly brushed against her cheek as he breathed in deep. 
“Then why can I smell his blood on you?” Beron asked.
“I-I don’t know,” Y/N stuttered.
Beron tutted. “Don’t play dumb with me, Y/N. You know it won’t end well.”
Y/N didn’t reply, even as Beron brushed a strand of her hair behind her ear, revealing a small splatter of Eris’s blood on her forehead. 
“Do you want to know something, Y/N?” Beron asked, leaning back. “I did feel awful when your father needed to pay his debts back to me. I remember thinking if I should ever help you out, give you a little bit more money to get by. But that was when I found out that my very own son had been taking money from his personal funds for years, to pay off your debts.”
Y/N gasped. “What?”
“My son, whom I raised to be hard as steel, tough as nails, has been taking money from his own funds to pay off your debts. Funds that I give him myself,” Beron repeated. “When I checked in recently to see how much you had left to owe, it was a lower sum than I thought. I was confused by this as you can imagine, as by my own calculations, you shouldn’t have even paid ten percent by now when you have paid over ninety percent of it.”
Y/N looked down confused. By her own calculations, she had paid off fifty percent of her debts. But if Beron said that by his calculations she had only paid off ten percent in over five hundred years–
“You haven’t been paying me what I am owed,” Y/N said. 
Beron shrugged. “Someone at your station only makes seven gold marks a week. I personally cut that down to three.”
“But that means–”
“Your debt has increased,” Beron said. “Every time you paid out money for food or water or new clothes that you thought you could afford. That money went right onto the end of your debt. I never intended for you to ever pay off your debt, Y/N. You father did me wrong, did everyone wrong. Since he died, his punishment simply passed onto you.”
“You were going to make me work until I died,” Y/N said. 
“That was the plan until I found out my son had been paying off your debt over the years,” Beron sneered.
All those years that Y/N hated Eris for what he became, he was risking his life to pay off her never ending debt. A debt that would have killed her. 
“When I found Eris depositing the last ten percent of the money into my account, I had my suspicions confirmed all along,” Beron said. “I always knew my son carried a flame for you, I could see it ever since you were children. When Tycho– mother rest his soul– was born, I needed Eris to step up to his duties. If I were to ever pass away, the High Lord status wouldn’t shift to the first born son– it may have shifted families completely– I needed my sons prepared. I needed them all to prove they were worthy of leadership.”
“You put them all against one another!” Y/N exclaimed. 
“They did that themselves trying to impress me,” Beron said dismissively. “But Eris always had one thing preventing him from reaching his potential. You.”
Y/N wanted nothing more than to run out of the office and never return. The only sense of calm within her was whens he occasionally noticed the unnatural shift of a shadow. 
“I always knew about the relationship between you and Eris, neither of you were subtle. When I ordered him to stay away from you, he refused again and again– so I took extreme measures to make sure he never spoke to you again.”
Y/N thought of the white scars on Eris’s back. 
“But when even that didn’t work, I knew that punishing my son was not the way to go. So I threatened you. Eris knows that when I make a threat, I always follow through. I gave him an ultimatum, stay away from you and focus on his duties or your head would end up as a decoration in my ballroom.”
Tears streamed down Y/N’s face no matter how much she tried to stop them. “You are a diabolical male.”
Beron rolled his eyes. “Tell me something I haven't heard already.” Beron leaned back against his desk as he continued to speak. “Over the years I thought he had come to despise you. I thought I had finally knocked sense into him that fraternising with anyone of a lower class than him was frowned upon. But when I learned of all the money he had paid on your behalf, he needed a little more of a push to get it through his skull.”
“You nearly killed him,” Y/N growled. 
Beron nodded, not looking the slightest bit sympathetic. “I know. It was my plan after all. Eris has always been led by his heart rather than his head. An attribute he had unfortunately inherited from his mother. I realised I could no longer stand to have a son as weak as him in the standing to become the next High Lord of Autumn– and his misdeeds gave me an excellent opportunity.”
“He isn’t weak,” Y/N sneered. “Eris is the strongest male I have ever known.”
Beron chuckled. “I see your affections for him are still very much alive. I know you are here to kill me, Y/N. I have known long before you knocked on my door. I also know that Eris is lying in your house close to death. It seems to be that only the power of a High Lord can save him.”
Y/N’s eyes widened in shock. “How did you know that?”
“I am not silly, Y/N. I have known where Eris has been this whole time. I always knew he would run to where he felt safest– into the arms of his mate.” At Y/N’s horrified expression Beron smiled. “Oh yes, I knew that too. I’ve known much longer than you have. Nearly four hundred years. I overheard Eris crything to his mother about it one night. It was pitiful if I am being honest.”
The grip Y/N had on the blade was so tight she was hurting her own hand but her grip wouldn’t loosen even if she wanted it to. She wanted to plunge the dagger into him again and again until he was nothing more than a pile of blood and organs on the floor. 
“Over the years I contemplated killing you but I knew what your death would do to Eris and I couldn’t have the general of my armies weakened and going mad because of a broken mating bond.” Beron turned to his desk. “But since I know you won’t kill me and Eris is as good as dead, I will take great pleasure in this.”
“After all.” Beron picked up a small dagger of his own. “It is long overdue.”
Beron didn’t have the opportunity to even move the dagger into his dominant hand before Y/N stabbed the knife into his heart. His eyes were full of surprise as he looked down towards Y/N. She gripped the knife tighter and drove it deeper into his chest. 
“Don’t fucking underestimate me again,” Y/N growled before she plunged the knife into his chest again.
And again.
And again.
And again. 
Y/N screamed and plunged the knife in a final time, pushing Beron’s body onto the desk behind him.
Y/N panted as she sucked in air as she stared at the dead High Lord staring lifelessly to the ceiling. The blade in her hand shook, blood dripped from her hand to the floor; cutting through the silence like butter. 
“Y/N,” Azriel said, appearing behind her. He slowly took the blade from her hand and Y/N’s eyes remained on the deceased High Lord. 
“Will he be okay?” Y/N said through her sobs.
Azriel looked down at the dead High Lord. “I don’t think so.”
“Not him,” Y/N said, finally tearing her gaze from the cold body of Beron. “I am glad he is dead. I meant Eris. Will he be okay now?”
“Do you want to see him?” Azriel asked. “I am sure Rhys and the others will clean up here.”
Y/N nodded, wiping the tears from her face. Her attempt was futile as more tears replaced the old ones. Azriel held his hand out and Y/N took it and shadows immediately wrapped around her body. It was cold but somehow the cold comforted the burns on her body. One moment she was standing in the great hall in the Forest House and the next Y/N was standing back in her own bedroom. Within an instant Y/N rushed to Eris’s side. His breathing seemed to be even and colour had returned to his cheeks. 
“The power of the High Lord has passed onto him,” Madja explained. “He is the High Lord of Autumn now.”
Y/N gently reached for his hand. As she linked her fingers through his, there was a slight twitch of his finger, the only movement he had made since he had passed out. “When will he wake up?”
“In his own time,” Madja siad, packing away her equipment. She handed Y/N a rag to clean the blood from her hands. “When he wakes, make sure that he is rested and drinks plenty of water. The power transfer between High Lords can cause a great toll on one's body and Eris’s body is already weak.”
Y/N simply nodded, not tearing her eyes away from Eris. “Thank you.”
The room was plunged into silence once more and Y/N was thankful for it. Azriel must have left her right as he dropped her back at her house. She was alone with Eris. A living and breathing Eris. 
Y/N sat on the edge of the bed. “Did you hear that, Eris? You are the new High Lord of Autumn. It must be strange for you, becoming High Lord. It’s strange for me too. My mate is a High Lord. It doesn’t even seem real does it?”
She let out a long sigh. “I don’t know if you can hear me but if you can, just know that I do forgive you. I thought I hated you. For all of the things you said to me, about my father, how you treated me. But now I know that you did it for a reason. I have seen how awful your father is and I only have to admire you for what you put up with for all these centuries.”
Y/N gently brushed his hair away from his face. “I thought I wanted you dead but now I know that isn’t the case. The moment I thought you were dying, it felt as if a part of me was dying too. And it isn’t just because you are my mate. It is more than that. Eris, you were the only one I loved more than anything. You were always there for me. You loved me fiercely. You still love me fiercely. I think that what I am trying to say, Eris, is that no matter how much I shouldn’t, I believe part of me still loves me. And perhaps when you wake we can have a long overdue talk and decide where to go from here.”
A soft kiss was pressed upon Eris’s forehead. “Just please wake up soon. The quicker I can see those beautiful eyes, the better.”
***
When Eris did finally awake, Y/N was nowhere to be found. Eris was panicked and could feel the new power flooding his body. The pain from his body was completely gone but was replaced with an uncontrollable power threatening to burst. It was unlike anything he had ever felt before. His breathing became heavier as he clawed at his own chest. 
What happened? He thought. The last thing he remembered and the last thing he thought he would ever see was the worried look in Y/N’s eyes as she pleaded with him to keep his eyes open. Where was she now? He was standing in her bedroom. Her scent lingered in the air. As he stumped closer to the door, Eris tried to pull on the golden thread but he couldn’t. The bond still hasn't snapped for Y/N it seemed. Eris wanted to scream. 
The power within him was close to bursting and Eris knew that he needed to get away fast. He stumped from her bedroom and through the house until he was at the front door. He threw it open and the cool morning air hit him like a brick yet it still didn’t calm the blazing inferno inside of him. 
As he made his way out of the front gate, Eris walked as fast as he could down the cobblestone street. The further he could get from anyone, the better. 
“Eris!” 
Eris stilled in his tracks and he slowly turned around.
Y/N stood near the path leading to the forest, a basket in her hands filled with flowers. The basket fell to the ground as she rushed forward, racing towards him. 
“No!” Eris yelled. “Y/N, please don’t get near me.”
Y/N slowed her pace. “Eris, it’s okay.”
Eris shook her head. “No. My power…it’s stronger and I can’t control it. I feel it threatening to explode. I can’t let you get hurt.”
“And I’m not letting you get hurt either,” Y/N said, taking a few steps forward. 
“Y/N,” Eris said. “Please leave me.”
“Eris, I am not leaving,” Y/N said. “I have made sure to keep you alive. You must be stupid to think that I will allow my mate to go through all of this alone.”
Eris couldn’t stop the tears anymore. “I don’t know what to do.”
A small reassuring smile fell upon Y/N’s lips. “Let me go to you.”
“I don’t want to hurt you,” Eris whispered. 
Just imagining Y/N getting hurt because of him was enough for the burning in Eris’s veins to burn even hotter. Y/N was the one thing he had sought to protect all these centuries. That wouldn’t stop now.
“You won't,” Y/N said. “I trust you, Eris.”
Y/N stepped forward slowly, inching towards him. 
“No, Y/N,” Eris cried. “Please stay where you are.”
Y/N only continued to step forward and Eris didn’t have the energy to run away. The fire within him burned hotter and hotter the closer she got. 
There was perhaps a metre between their bodies now and Eris could feel the fire beginning to show as it danced around his body in dull embers. It was only a matter of time now. 
Y/N inched forward faster and Eris felt his body relax at the scent of her familiar perfume. The fire around him began to grow larger.  
“Y/N,” Eris said, his voice pained. “Please help me.”
The moment Y/N’s hand brushed his, Eris collapsed into Y/N’s arms. His power burnt around them in a whirlpool of fire. It continued on and on yet Y/N held him through it all, her grip not faltering for a second. The new High Lord’s body began to shake as he sobbed into Y/N’s arms. 
“Eris,” Y/N mumbled as the fire slowly died down to embers settling down beside them. 
Eris didn’t reply as his grip only tightened on Y/N. Holding her within his arms again was a welcome feeling. They were two puzzle pieces finally clicking into place. 
“You’re okay,” Y/N whispered as her fingers tangled in his hair. “You’re okay.”
Deep within him, Eris could feel his power becoming restless. He knew it was only a matter of time before it would burst out of him again. He knew that he needed to learn to keep it under control. His power before only seemed like an ember to the powers he had now. 
“Is he dead?” Eris asked as he pulled away from the hug, finally looking at Y/N. 
She nodded. “He is.”
“How?” Eris forced the question out.
“I killed him,” Y/N said and her eyes filled with unshed tears. “I sent a letter to the Night Court and they helped me get close enough.”
Eris’s hands gently cradled Y/N’s face. “I am sorry you had to do that.”
Y/N shook her head. “I’m not. It was the only way to save you. I would do it again and again if it meant that you would come back to me.”
“Oh, my love,” Eris muttered as he pressed a kiss to her forehead. The movement so strange after all of these years yet so natural.
“I am sorry, Eris,” Y/N said. “For thinking you were a cruel, horrible and loveless male for all of these years.”
“Don’t apologise,” Eris muttered against her forehead. “It is what I wanted you to think.”
“You suffered so much because of me,” Y/N cried. 
Eris caressed her face and he wiped the tears away. He hated to see her cry. “I would do it all again in a heartbeat because I love you. You are the only one I have ever loved and the only one I will ever love.”
Y/N met his eyes. “I don’t know what I feel. I have been mating you for so many years but now it is all too much. I-I don’t hate you, not at all. And I know, deep down, that there was always a part of me that still loved you no matter how stupid it was. Now, I just don’t know.”
“It is okay not to know,” Eris said. “I am not going to rush you into anything. I am not expecting you to immediately love me again. I did what I did out of love for you, I don’t care if you do not return my feelings.”
“But I do,” Y/N insisted. “At least in some capacity. Everything is all so complicated.”
Eris sighed and pulled her closer. “I know. So much has changed in only a few short hours. My father– Beron– is dead. I am a High Lord with enough power to set the whole course and possibly the neighbouring courts ablaze. You are free of your debts–”
“That is strange,” Y/N said. “For five hundred years I have been living with it looming over my shoulder. To not pay anything seems wrong.”
“I imagine it would be,” Eris said.
“Perhaps now somebody in the village will hire me,” Y/N said thoughtfully. 
“Or what about transferring all of the money you have made and all of the money I placed in Beron’s account into one for you?” Eris suggested. 
“Eris, that is too much money,” Y/N said, pulling away from him the smallest amount.
“Y/N, for five hundred years you have been shackled to Beron, he has been pulling on the chains if you ever strayed too far,” Eris said. “It is time to start living again.”
Y/N let out a shaky breath. “I honestly do not know what that entails anymore.”
“Perhaps you should go and find out for yourself,” Eris suggested, a small pain in his heart at the thought of Y/N leaving him. 
Y/N looked down to the ground for what was only a few seconds but to Eris it felt like hours. 
“Maybe I should,” Y/N said. “I have always wanted to see beyond this village and visit other courts.”
“Then get out there and go,” Eris pushed. 
“I will,” Y/N said, “but on one condition.”
“And what would that be?” Eris asked.
“My mate comes with me,” Y/N said. 
Just hearing Y/N claim Eris as her mate sent shockwaves down his spine. For nearly five hundred years he had been keeping this secret to himself with only his mother knowing about it. Hearing Y/N say it aloud made his heart swell.
“Obviously not right away as you have some duties to attend to but perhaps you can join me in a few months once everything is settled with you as High Lord?” Y/N suggested. 
For the first time in centuries a bright and wide smile stretched across Eris’s face. “I would love that, Y/N.”
Y/N smiled back and if Eris was standing he would feel weak at the knees. It was the smile he would now only ever see in his dreams. Seeing it in reality, it was even more beautiful. 
“I think I will pack tomorrow and set off the following day,” Y/N said. “If you would like to join me for dinner before I go…”
“Name the place and I am there,” Eris said, feeling his heart beat even quicker. 
A breath passed by Y/N’s lips and Eris’s eyes darted down to them. “I should get back to the Forest House. My first duty as High Lord will be to send a letter to the Night Court.”
Y/N leaned closer to Eris. “Could I accompany you there? I would like to add a message in the letter too.” Eris didn’t miss the way her eyes darted down to his lips. 
Eris nodded. “Of course. Shall we set off now?”
Y/N nodded. “Yes. The quicker you are back home, the quicker you can start resting. Madja’s orders.”
Despite the two claiming to begin the walk to the Forest House, neither of them stood up, still remaining on the ground. Eris’s hands inched closer and gently clasped Y/N’s in his, feeling her soft skin against his again was one he craved desperately these past five hundred years. 
“Y/N,” Eris said, his voice low and full of longing. “Can I–”
“Yes,” Y/N said, a small smile gracing her face. “You may kiss me.”
Eris didn’t waste a single second and pressed his lips against hers. 
Though they still needed to work through a lot of things, together and alone, Eris would happily stay within the temporary bubble the two had created, wrapped in the comfort of Y/N’s arms forever if he could. 
However the moment Y/N pulled away, the bubble popped and the reality of the last several days crashed upon Eris. 
“Let us go to the Forest House,” Y/N whispered against his lips. “The quicker we write the letter, the quicker we can rest, tangled together under the covers like we used to do.”
They both stood from the floor and Eris gently grasped Y/N’s hand, linking his fingers with hers. As Eris and Y/N walked down the cobblestone path to the Forest House, the clouds parted and made way for a beautiful blue sky.
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@myromanempiree @talesofadragon @marina468 @rcarbo1 @marielouiseva @lilah-asteria @acourtofbatboydreams @glaciuswduo @adventure-awaits13 @thecraziestcrayon @saltedcoffeescotch @warmdragonfly
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kjupchurch-xx · 3 days
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Knowing You Part Two - WattPad Request
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TMZ: BREAKING NEWS! Hugh Jackman calls younger co-star his Storm!
US Weekly: Hugh Jackman gets flirty on the red carpet with co-star!
Twitter Trends:
#HughJackman
#Kaitlyn
#GlenPowell
#HisStorm
As we made our way down the red carpet, I looked up to Hugh, still smiling for the hundreds of photographers snapping our photos. "I'm your storm, huh?" I teased.
He smiled as he wrapped his arm around my waist, pulling me closer to him for the photos. "Sorry, Halle." He joked back.
I playfully rolled my eyes, "You know the media is going to have a frenzy with that if they aren't already." I said with a laugh as we shifted our bodies in the other direction for the other photographers.
He leaned in, whispering in my ear, "Let them." He said as he pulled away, going back to posing for the cameras.
Soon, our other co-stars accompanied us, we posed for group cast photos, Hugh still keeping his grip on my waist. As the red carpet event ended, Hugh and I were riding in the backseat of the luxury SUV that had picked us up.
He still sat close, keeping his hand on my thigh. Glen and Rachel were scrolling through their phones as Glen chuckled, "She's your Storm, huh?"
Hugh laughed, "You heard about that, mate?" He asked him, gently squeezing my thigh.
Glen laughed as he showed his phone to us, "It's all over TikTok." It was playing a continuous loop of our interview where Hugh referred to me as "his Storm". I laughed as I watched myself try to keep from giggling at the camera as Hugh smirked into the camera view.
I smiled as I looked at him. He was everything I could've ever wanted in a man, but he and I had both made it clear we were not interested in a relationship right now after splitting from our long-term marriages. As much as I didn't want to admit for the fear of scaring him away, the friends with benefits situation had me starting to slowly fall for him. He pleased me in ways that no one ever had.
He caught me staring and looked at me, with a half smile, "What's on your mind?" He asked knowingly.
I chuckled, shaking my head slightly, "Nothing!" I said quickly.
His smile grew wider, "Oh? Really?" He asked, playful sarcasm dripping from his voice.
I bit my lip anxiously as I failed to hide my cheekiness, “Yep.” I said, as the sound of the ‘p’ popped.
He chuckled, still smiling at me, “I’m sure I’ll get it out of you later.” He said with a wink, giving my thigh another light squeeze.
I swallowed the lump in my throat as I giggled softly, “You still owe me a milkshake.” I teased.
He playfully rolled his eyes, “Oh love, how could I ever forget?” He said sweetly.
I smiled as I leaned my head on his shoulder as the drive to our homes continued. Rachel was dropped off at her home, Glen was dropped off shortly after and Hugh would be dropped off with me since he hadn’t had a place of his own in LA. We all lived in close proximity to one another, so we weren’t alone in the SUV for much time before we pulled into my driveway.
As we got out of the SUV, we thanked the driver and headed towards my front door. “Finally…” I heard him say with a content sigh, “I’ve been waiting to have you all to myself all night”. He said playfully.
I giggled as I unlocked the door, allowing us to enter the house. “Can you at least let me get showered and out of this ridiculous dress?” I joked as we walked past the kitchen.
He chuckled, “I’m going to shower and change too. I need out of this suit.” He said as he removed the tie.
I snickered as I kicked the heels off, and walked past the couch. “Hey?” Hugh said softly from behind me.
“Hmm?” I asked, turning around to face him.
He sat on the couch, grabbing my arm, pulling me onto his lap. “You look stunning tonight.” He said softly as he smiled, his face slowly inching closer to mine.
“Thank you.” I murmured softly through my blushes as I felt his lips finally touch mine for the first time tonight.
I missed his kisses. I missed his touch. The kiss was slow, it wasn’t aggressive or crazy. It was a much sweeter, gentler kiss. He brought his hands up, cupping my cheeks as I wrapped my arms around his neck, getting comfortable on his lap.
He pulled away and looked at me, smirking slightly as I tucked my bottom lip between my teeth, gazing into his eyes. I wanted to tell him, but I just felt like telling him about the way I was starting to feel would potentially ruin things.
He shifted us both, “You gonna tell me what’s on your mind now, love?” He asked as he gazed into my eyes and slightly tilted his head.
I shrugged, trying to act as if I wasn’t sure what he was referring to. “Nothing. I was just thinking about how well the event went.” I said, trying to sound as reassuring as possible.
He squinted his eyes at my response, “You’re not a very good liar.” He giggled softly.
I mocked a dramatic gasp, “I’m not lying!” I exclaimed, giggling softly.
He fixed his hazel eyes back on mine, “Tell me what’s bothering you.” He said, his voice soft but firm.
My face instantly formed into a more serious expression. “I can’t.” I said, barely above a whisper as I looked away, still keeping my arms around his neck.
His expression softened, “You can tell me anything without judgement. You know that.” He said, continuing to gaze at my expression.
I looked up, exhaling deeply. I could feel my anxiety about to burst as I pursed my lips together tightly. “I fucked up.” I said bluntly with a dry chuckle.
He looked at me questionably, “What do you mean? What did you do?” He asked, his voice beginning to sound a tad bit worried.
I swallowed the lump forming in my throat, “I stopped being able to separate my feelings from our… our arrangement.” I said slowly, exhaling.
He looked at me, swallowing his own nervous lump in his throat as I continued. “I know you don’t want a relationship right now, and I said I didn’t either.”
He nodded in agreement, “You’ve developed feelings for me, is that what you’re saying?” He asked, trying to clarify my words.
I nodded slowly, “Yeah. That’s… what I’m saying. And I know this will absolutely screw everything up.” I said as I pursed my lips together once more.
He brought his hand up, running his fingers through his dark hair. I could feel tears beginning to well up in my eyes. I didn’t want to complicate things, or to run him off by feeling something for him other than lust.
I needed him to say something.
He removed his fingers from his own hair, placing his hand back on my cheek, cupping it. I felt my eyes close, afraid of his reaction or the rejection I was going to receive.
He chuckled softly, “That’s funny.” He simply said, causing me to open my eyes and look at him, feeling disappointed. He continued as he saw my expression, “I was just telling my mates a few days ago that I felt that way about you.” He said softly as a small smile began appearing on his lips.
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Some Calm in the Midst of War | Wartime!Tommy Shelby x Reader
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request: yes by @cybubuvubbu
pairing: Wartime!Tommy Shelby x Reader
summary: (Y/N) meets a soldier in a club. Not wanting to let go of this taste of calm amidst all of the chaos, they extend their moment of revelry into something a bit longer.
warnings: language, smoking, talks of war, suggestive situations (pg-13 in nature…I think)
word count: 1721
a/n: so this is what I decided to do in order to get these requests that have been sitting for months out to read. I really focused on just letting all of the inhibitions about it go and writing. Whatever gets put down gets put down, and however it gets put down flies also. I’m sorry if this isn’t what you were hoping for/looking forward to from me, but please know that I’m doing this in hopes that it’ll help me figure out what I want to do next. Ok, I’m sorry for making this so long…enjoy! :)
a/n 2: I just can’t bring myself to write completely nsfw stuff but I wanted to take this request in this direction, so I hope anyone won’t be annoyed at the fact that it’s not explicit smut. This’ll probably be the closest my writing will ever get to it.
I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!
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The unlikely pair met in a club. She was - once - a woman of higher class, and he was a man whose family lived on next to nothing. But now because the war had ripped through both of their lives, they were finding solace in each other.
He couldn't take his eyes off of her all night. She was there with some of the ladies who she worked alongside as a field nurse. He'd come into town with his company, whom he was in command of.
Both looking for some semblance of what their lives used to be; looking for a way to escape the hell they’d been stuck in.
She was the one who approached him. "Saw you staring from across the bar," she started, her confidence earning some whistles from the men who were accompanying the man she was speaking to. One was even quick to leave his stool, offering the space to her. The man was surprised how quickly his men left them alone. "Thought it'd be a crime not to come and talk with you," she brought his attention back to her, her lips curved up into a smile.
He didn't know what to say at first. Prior to this, he wasn't sure if he was even going to take things further than a couple glances in her direction. But now he couldn't take his eyes off of her, and shit... he still didn't know what to say! A laugh filled with disbelief left his lips as he finally tore his eyes from hers.
He took a drag from his cigarette before looking her way again. One thing he wasn't going to do in this situation was fuck this opportunity up.
The two didn't talk much. Sure a brief conversation occurred, but it wasn't long before she was pulling them to the dance floor so they could join in with all of the other carefree couples.
The fact that he wanted to stay after the first song was over shocked her. It was evident though that she was the only reason he wanted to stay.
They exchanged a kiss before even exchanging names.
It wasn't surprising to see how quickly they became engrossed in one another. All they'd known for the last stretch of time was war and the feelings, not to mention sights, of terror that came with it. Neither knew when they'd get another moment like this...so they most certainly weren't going to waste it.
Their connection grew over the next several dances they shared. Soon enough the tender at the bar was yelling last call and they were ordering one last drink together.
Both weren't able to find the groups that they'd arrived with, so they decided to bask in each other's company for as long as they were able.
They finally got to talking, sitting at the bar until the keeper was telling them they needed to leave.
It was during these conversations that they found out just how different of lives they had led prior to this point. Funny how war had the ability to blur the class lines. Neither cared at the moment that the other wouldn’t have even spared a glance prior to now. They simply cared about feeling human again.
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She brought him back to the room she'd been given for her brief time of leave from the field hospital. Tensions had risen between them as they walked closely together down the street. There was purpose in their step and things reached a fever point the second they stepped across the threshold into the small room.
The slightest look was shared before their lips met. No words needed to be spoken. What they both wanted was written clear across their faces.
Their walk to the bed looked more like a dance as they blindly fumbled with each others’ clothes. By the time her back hit the mattress, she was left in a blouse and underwear and he his trousers.
Another look was shared as a pause was taken. They were both breathing heavily, but this time he asked: “are you sure?”
She blinked a few times, as if it was her own way of checking that he was indeed real and that this was really happening. She couldn’t remember the last time she was in a position like this. The longer the pause was held, the more it became evident that she would be insane not to let the opportunity pass. “So sure,” she breathed in response, a smile playing on her lips.
His mesmerizing blue eyes turned a shade darker as he heard her response. A grin spread across his lips, and he brought his hand up to take hold of her cheek before she matched her lips to his again.
Their kisses were slower this time around. Both wanted to savor this moment, as they knew it may be the last like it they’d ever get. Inhibitions were thrown out alongside the rest of their garments and nothing more was said as they found a connection with each other.
Sweat stuck to their bodies and he made sure to hold her close, both reeling from the feeling the other was giving them.
They couldn’t remember the last time they felt this good. It was a feeling they never wanted to end.
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Leaving was something neither of the two even thought about when they were finished. Their limbs stayed winded together, and they continued to exchange languid kisses as they came down from their highs.
“Shelby,” she breathed, her eyes focusing on the disc that was hanging around his neck. The disc that would be used to identify him if something were to happen in the field of battle.
Its presence made reality return to her mind. A reminder of the war they were still very much engrossed in flooded her thoughts, shrouding the state of bliss that she was previously experiencing.
“Tommy,” his voice brought her out of her thoughts.
“Huh?” she asked, focusing on him again with furrowed brows.
“My name’s Tommy,” he clarified.
“It’s nice to meet you, Tommy,” she said, then giggling as the context of the situation came to mind…usually these sort of introductions were done before she joined a man in bed.
Tommy cracked a grin at her statement, a chuckle leaving his lips before he leaned down to kiss hers, stifling her laughter in the process. “What’s your name?” he asked as they broke apart.
“(Y/N),” she answered, her smile still present.
“It’s nice to meet you, (Y/N),” he used the same greeting as she had, and they both began laughing again.
Their laughter subsided as their eyes met, and the tension they’d been feeling from the moment he spotted her at the club arose again. Nothing more was said as their lips molded together for the umpteenth time that evening.
Tommy was the one to break away, but he didn’t move far. He kissed a line from her lips down to her jaw and settled against the crook of her neck. (Y/N) sighed wantonly at the feeling, her hands tangling in the longer parts of his hair as her heart rate increased.
“Tommy…” his name was uttered in a breathy moan, “Tommy, I don’t…” she couldn’t quite keep her thoughts straight as his lips trailed lower, finding a new home in the valley between her breasts. It was becoming harder to think with each passing second, but she felt she needed to get these thoughts out. “I don’t usually do this—I’m not usually like this.”
He stopped his ministrations and lifted his head to look at her again. She sighed at the loss of feeling. “What do you mean?” he asked, his brows furrowing together in confusion when it took her a few moments to respond.
“I’m not usually this…” she paused, struggling to think of the right word, “…easy,” was what she finally settled on, although it still felt as if there were better words to use.
Tommy’s brows straightened only slightly. “I never thought you were,” he told her honestly.
“Things have been so different with the war and all,” she continued to explain herself even though he didn’t ask her to, “it’s been so long—too long, since I’ve been in a situation like this so forgive me for being unsure of what now needs to be done, but I just…my fear is that I won’t have a chance to experience this again…” she paused, feeling her chest tighten, “things are so uncertain now…”
“Hey…” he cut her off she could continue. She bit on her bottom lip to stop it from quivering, unable to match his gaze for fear of it making her tears fall. “Look at me, love,” he gently coaxed her, his hand cupping her cheek so that he could make their eyes meet. A solemn expression was present on his features as he reached up to brush away a tear with his thumb.
“I’m sorry,” (Y/N) apologized, now feeling pathetic for turning their passionate moment into this.
“Don’t be,” Tommy shook his head, his thumb running gently against her cheekbone. He searched her eyes for a moment before continuing, “no harm will ever come to you,” he told her, “not from me, not from anyone else…not while I’m here,” his words were spoken with the utmost truth, and his eyes never wavered from hers.
(Y/N) wasn’t sure what to say. She’d never had someone profess something like this to her…especially not someone who was a stranger a few hours ago. But in this moment it felt so right, and hearing those words alone gave her some hope that maybe they’d both be okay.
She smiled at him, reaching up to slowly run her hand against his jawline. “You’ll be here?” she asked him, her eyebrows raising slightly.
“Until I can’t be,” he assured her, a smile playing on his lips.
His response made (Y/N)’s smile widen, and nothing more was said as she gently took hold of his chin and brought his lips to hers once more.
Staying true to his word, Tommy stayed with (Y/N) until they both had to ship out to their posts again. Both were equally grateful to enjoy some calm in the midst of war.
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Check out THIS ARTICLE that I found about the history of how identification tags were used throughout time — it’s such an intriguing read!
**ALSO - the italized words that Tommy said at the end were taken from the caption on the photo from the request, which were taken from the movie The Edge of Love.
MASTERLIST
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Tagged: @mystcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21
@mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @theshelbyslimited @peakyswritings
@just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry
@captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @emotionalcadaver
@stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder
@cillmequick @strayrockette @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @garrison-girl-08
@insanitybyanothername @depxiety @justrainandcoffee @dragons-are-my-favorite @mrs-bond
@cljordan-imperium @brummiereader @red-riding-wood @everythingelseisextra @little-diable
@thomashelbyswife @shaddixlife @ryecosse @padfootdaredmetoo @novashelby
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cosmicdahlias · 2 days
Text
What You Deserve
a ford x reader fic
MINORS DNI
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warnings: HEAVY NONCON, smut, possession
i really went wild on this one i hope y’all enjoy
Ford has been worrying you lately. His sleep schedule is erratic, he barely eats, and it seems like he’s always talking to someone that isn’t there. But there is someone, you’ve come to know him as Bill.
In Ford’s words Bill is his muse, his inspiration. You hadn’t questioned it at first, it kept him so driven. But now things were different, Ford wasn’t quite the same as when you first met him.
You’ve never spoken directly to Bill, only when he speaks through Ford via possession. You never let Ford know but it terrifies you to see Ford so unlike himself. He turns wild, dangerous, unpredictable. Sometimes disappearing for days at a time and returning with no recollection of what transpired. One time coming back sporting a tattoo of a star on his neck that he had no memory of getting, but a tattoo was the least of your worries.
You’ve started to hate Bill for what he’s done to your partner. You fear the day that you turn on the news and see that the local mysterious scientist in the woods has turned up dead.
You secretly love him too. He captivated you, perhaps that’s why you cared so much. If he was just your coworker it wouldn’t keep you up as often as it did. You wanted to take him away from all of this, to just kiss him and tell him that there was more to life than being Bill’s puppet.
These thoughts consumed your mind as you sat at your desk going over your research notes. You were so in your head that you didn’t sense the looming presence behind you.
A hand grasped your shoulder, you jumped nearly a foot out of your chair. It was Ford.
“JESUS Christ, Ford. A little warning next time?” You gasped.
He released his hand. “Oh dear I’m sorry I hadn’t realized I’d scare you like that, you just looked so wrapped up in your own thoughts. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
You huffed. “Yeah, it’s just… I have a lot on my mind right now.”
“Oh? Perhaps I can take your mind off things.”
“How so?” You asked.
“Well for starters sweetheart I can rip off those clothes.” He cooed.
“What?” You stammered.
“You heard me.”
You blushed, this was so unlike him. “Ford are you feeling okay?”
“Are you kidding? I’ve never felt more like myself.”
It was then you noticed his eyes, the yellow tint and catlike pupils. Your heart sank. Bill.
“I know it’s you Bill. What do you want?” You spat through gritted teeth.
“I’m just doing old sixer here a favor. I’ve seen inside his mind and I know what he thinks about you. Thing is, he’s too damn shy to just go for it. So I figured, why not do it for him?”
You felt like a rock just sank to the pit of your stomach, you knew what that meant. Your thoughts quickly screamed at you to defend yourself. You knew you had a small knife in the drawer of your desk, but could you grab it before Ford, rather, Bill reached you?
You decided to take the risk, you shot up and darted your hand to the drawer, pulling it open. You quickly grabbed the knife and held it out in front of you. Your hands trembled.
Bill laughed coldly “That’s cute of you, but here’s the thing, you try hurting me and you’re just gonna kill Fordsy. And we wouldn’t want that now would we?”
Before you could say anything Ford descended on you, coming up behind you his hands gripping your wrists and wrestling the knife out of your grasp.
“Now listen to me toots, we’re gonna have some fun on behalf of my good old pal here. You can struggle all you want, but I think you and I both know he’s a lot bigger and stronger than you.” He said, running the knife against your throat.
You felt his teeth sink into your neck, rough kisses left at every bite mark, his hands traveling up and down your body. He hooked the knife underneath your clothes and began to tear away at the fabric, leaving your top half exposed.
You wanted to run, to scream, to cry, but you knew it would be in vain. Where would you run? To whom would you scream or cry to? You were all alone in a shack in the middle of the woods with a man possessed by a twisted demon.
The knife slowly cut away at your skirt, next your bra and panties. Ford kept a hand on your waist, the other still holding a knife to your throat.
“Now,” he said, his fingers massaging your breasts “I’m going to have my way with you.” His voice sent a cold chill down your spine.
In one quick motion Ford spun you around and forced you to the floor, hands holding down your wrists.
“But first, I think Ford deserves a good look at my work, don’t you?”
As you looked up at Ford you saw his eyes return to their normal whites and rounded pupils. He looked down at you, confused, then the horror set in.
“Y/n, what are you- oh god no, Bill what have you done?”
Before he could even remove his hands from your wrists his head snapped back violently, when he returned his gaze to you it was with the same terrifying look, Bill had retaken control.
Keeping a hand on your wrist he began to wrestle with his belt.
“I’ll never understand you humans and your complicated clothing.”
He slipped his pants low enough to reveal his cock, which was dripping with precum. You tried hard to fight against him but your efforts were in vain, Bill was right, Ford was stronger.
Sharply and violently he slid himself into you all the way to the base. You screamed from the pain and Ford let out a loud groan. He began to thrust hard and fast, growling and breathing heavily into the crook of your neck.
“Ah fuck, now I see why sixer wanted this so bad.” He hissed.
You felt your will begin to fade, you were stuck like this, there was nothing you could do, no one was coming to save you.
“I think Ford should feel this too, I never know if he feels anything I’m doing.”
His eyes reverted again, they widened.
“No no no, dear god, make it stop. I’m so sorry, y/n.”
Ford tried to fight it, he struggled to get himself off of you but Bill began to take hold again.
“Fordsy might be sorry, but I’m not. Quite frankly I always feel like you’re getting in the way of things, perhaps this will teach you to stay away.”
He resumed his brutal pace, the loud slapping echoing through the lab accompanied by his grunts and your whimpers. All you could see was his yellow eyes and wicked smile. This was pure hell, you wanted Ford, but not like this, never like this.
He could feel himself getting close, he grabbed your legs and hooked them over his shoulders. His nails dug into the soft flesh of your calves.
“Hahhh, hahhhh. I’m going to… make you regret ever agreeing to work with Ford. You’re gonna… keep your distance. You hear me?”
Tears began to stream down your face, you started to hope that Bill would just kill you after he was done.
Ford was fucking you at a punishing speed, as he forced a hand to your throat Bill released him right as he began to cum. Ford let out a deafening moan and his whole body shook. Everything went white for a few seconds, when his vision returned he was greeted with a frightening visual beneath him.
Ford let you go and backed up against the wall, he had to focus all of his attention on not vomiting.
“Y/n, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
All you could do was lay on the floor, nothing felt real. Ford took off his trench coat and wrapped you in it. Tears began to fall down his face.
“I’m so sorry, y/n. I never meant to hurt you.”
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