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#don’t ask me why I like his beard so much
beebeetheclown · 8 months
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I think Jeremy Strong with a beard is my current favourite Jeremy Strong. I don’t know, don’t make me explain myself.
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My favourite Jeremy Strong era switches about once a month (don’t blame me, my man can pull off anything.)
I don’t know how many of you agree with this era of his being your favourite haha👀
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criminalamnesia · 7 months
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that 141 x reader you just did was so good! i need to know what happens next. like after reader is better, do they stay in the military? stay in 141? or do they take a discharge? I’m not the original ask but it was just so good.
love your writing btw!
thank you! here’s part two :)
ALL PARTS CAN BE FOUND HERE
you were beginning to hate the infirmary.
the white walls. the moans of pain. the smell of bleach and blood.
the reminder of why you were here. of who put you here.
your friends. your family. your team. john. johnny. kyle. simon.
you’d told the doctor to not let your teammates in, and she had tried, but there was only so much she could do. she couldn’t monitor the door all the time, and so a week after waking up from your coma, john price is sitting at your beside once again.
his hands are clasped together, knuckles white with the intensity of his grip. he’s leaning forward, elbows resting on the bed, hands under his chin. his position conveys his regret and worry. he looks like he should be in church, knelt between the pews and spewing silent prayers to a god that isn’t listening.
you haven’t spoken to him since he sat down ten minutes ago. the second you saw him step inside the infirmary, you knew he was there for you. there to try and speak to you, to apologize.
fuck him and his apologies.
you turned your head to the side, eyes staring at the white curtain separating your bed from the next. you studied the stitching while you listened to him breathe next to you. he hadn’t spoken either— just sat down and watched you.
it made your skin crawl, how he thought this was okay. how he thought this would be the way to get back into your good graces.
he clears his throat then, a sound you’ve heard a million times before. it makes you want to gag now.
“love,” his voice is soft, caring. you want to hit him in the jaw.
“can we talk? please?”
you don’t turn over, don’t even spare him a glance. you keep your gaze trained on the curtain. the only giveaway that he has your attention is the fists you clench at your sides.
he takes the silence as an invitation, that bastard.
“what happened—” he begins, then grunts. stops. takes a second, then begins again.
“what we did,” he says, and you roll your eyes. “it wasn’t right. the intel was from a trusted source. we—” he sighs then, and you can tell he’s rubbing his temple. he did that when he was stressed. when he was anxious.
“we were wrong to believe them over you, love. and im— im sorry.”
silence ensues. you don’t give him any indication that you’ve heard what he said. he sighs again, inhaling deeply.
“you’re still part of this team. johnny and gaz, they’ve been sitting outside this damn room like sentries. can barely pry ‘em away for drills.” he chuckles then, but it’s sad. pitiful. mournful.
“there’s nothing we can do to make this right,” he tells you. you’re still mulling over what he said about johnny and gaz. still hung up on the fact that he didn’t mention simon at all.
simon, who did the most damage to you, both psychologically and physically. simon, who shared your bed. simon.
simon, who is too much of a coward to face you for his crimes.
“but we want to try,” price is speaking again. “if you’ll let us.”
he stops talking. waits a beat, then two. then, you hear his chair scrape. he’s getting up, and that’s when you turn your head to face him.
he looks bad. bags under the eyes, skin pale, beard overgrown. you think he deserves this. deserves worse than this. his eyes meet yours, and they widen the tiniest bit at the attention you’re showing him.
your voice is full of venom as you speak.
“nothing,” you seethe, angry tears blurring your vision. “will ever undo what you did to me. what he did to me.”
price knows you’re talking about simon. the whole team knew you were a thing. hell, when they’d strapped you to that chair and debated who would ‘interrogate’ you, they hadn’t even thought to include simon. why would he want to torture the person he loved?
to their surprise, he had volunteered to take point.
“when i get out of this bed,” you continue. “im gone. and i never, never, want to see any of you again, or else im putting a fucking bullet between your eyes.”
the captain doesn’t speak. you can see the remorse on his face. you couldn’t care less about his feelings.
he gives a short nod, and without another word, he turns and leaves the room.
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after john’s visit, no one else tries to visit you. you no longer catch glimpses of kyle or johnny outside the infirmary door. you’re glad they’re starting to get the hint.
but you’re still getting flowers. you don’t know where they’re coming from. sometimes they’re dropped off by a nurse, other times they appear in the morning after a restless sleep. there’s never a note. never anything to suggest who would be leaving them.
you know it’s one of the 141, but you don’t know exactly who. you feel certain it’s not simon.
but, unbeknownst to you, it is him. he knows you don’t want to see him— to see any of them. price had told them all about what you’d said to him during your talk.
price had also told them that he’d already started preparing your transfer papers. that had caused an uproar from soap, who’d quickly been quieted by a saddened price.
simon had expected it. expected worse, actually. he knew that if the roles had been reversed, he wouldn’t have been as merciful as you. it made him hate what they’d done to you so much more.
there had been the tiniest doubt in his mind when all the evidence pointed to you. he hadn’t believed it at first— and then things became damning. everything pointed to you. trusted sources were pointing their fingers at you, and everyone listened. he had listened.
he had volunteered to torture you because he’d been angry. rage he hadn’t felt in years bubbled to the surface of his skin, and he wanted to tear you limb from limb. how dare you come into their lives— his life— and betray them so substantially?
simon didn’t trust easily. he was battered and broken and scarred. shattered and malformed pieces hastily glued back together. he let the team in. let you in. let you see his face. let you into his bed. let you into his fucking heart.
and you turned around and drove a dagger into him. or so he thought.
he thought his anger and actions had been justified. thought he was doing the world a favor by butchering you. but he was wrong. the team was wrong.
he finds himself regretting how he hadn’t listened to your pleas, but there’s nothing he can do about it now.
he knows the chances of you forgiving him, of letting him back into your life, are slim to none. but how could he not at least try?
you’d know each other for years. been together for years. all of it thrown away because he still knew the hurt of betrayal all too well. because it was too easy to fall back into the mindset that it was him against everyone. that the only person he knew, the only one he could rely on, was himself.
so he left flowers. your favorite ones. and he did so without making you face him, without apologizing or groveling. it was the least he owed you.
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a month after your coma, you were finally allowed out of the infirmary. you were still healing, skin still tender and bruised. pink, jagged scars lining your skin; eternal reminders of the pain you’d been subjected to.
you’d been given a t-shirt and a pair of jeans, which you’d pulled on with much fuss. every time you struggled or stumbled, you found yourself getting angry. angry at the men who did this to you.
the anger was going to eat you alive, at least that’s what the psychologist that had been dropping by to see you had said. she’d told you you need to let it go, and you’d laughed in her face.
how do you let something like this go?
you didn’t know. you didn’t think you were strong enough to do that. not a good enough person to forgive the men that had carved into you.
once you had dressed, you shuffled out into the hallway. you’d profusely denied an escort, and the doctor had reluctantly acquiesced. she’d let you go, with just the promise that you’d keep your iv hooked in.
so here you were, trudging down the halls of the base, iv pole rattling along behind you.
you could feel eyes on you, but no one dared to get too close. you were glad. you didn’t want more empty apologies and sympathetic words.
you still remembered the way to price’s office like the back of your hand. you doubted you’d ever forget it.
time and time again you’d found yourself here. sometimes, getting reprimanded. others, congratulated. a few times you’d shown up in tears, and price had let you in without a word.
now you were standing outside his door, trying to contain the rage in your veins.
you raised a hand. knocked once, firm and loud.
“come in!” price called from inside.
you were already twisting the door knob, pushing into the room.
your eyes found price first. he was leaning against his desk, arms crossed over his chest. his hat was absent from his head, instead resting beside him on the desk.
and then you noticed simon.
he was wearing all black. his hands were covered, bones decorating the black gloves. gloves you’d seen many times before. gloves that had been pressed to gunshots, trying to stop the bleeding.
the lower half of his face was covered, allowing you to see from his eyes up. his sandy blonde hair was ruffled.
you quickly turned your attention back to price.
“love, what are you doin’ here? you should be in bed—” he began, but you waved a hand as you stepped further into the room. you pulled your iv pole in behind you, then kicked the door shut.
“don’t talk, just listen. i still mean what i said when you came to visit. the only reason im here right now is because you haven’t put in for my fucking transfer.” you hissed.
the captain’s eyes widened, his face taking on a sheepish expression at the revelation that he’d been caught. simon stood quietly beside him, eyes trained on you. you ignored him.
“love, i didn’t want to do anything before you were ready—” he began. you cut him off.
“bullshit! you didn’t want to do anything because you don’t want me to leave. you want me to forgive you, right? hear you all out? come back and be a happy little family again?”
the room fell eerily silent as you stared at the captain. your heart was roaring in your ears.
“put in the fucking transfer, john.” you finished.
he reluctantly nodded. he inhaled, his eyes glancing at his lieutenant briefly, before he spoke again.
“of course, love. ‘m sorry.”
you didn’t say anything else. you turned to go, your back to the men, when simon’s voice cut through the air.
“you should be respectful to your captain, sergeant.”
you froze as you took in his words. was he fucking serious?
you didn’t turn around. you trained your eyes on the door as you spoke words through gritted teeth.
“you should watch your tongue, lieutenant, before I fucking cut it off.”
with that, you pulled open the door and stepped into the hallway, slamming it loudly behind you.
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author’s note:
apologies for the wait! I hope everyone enjoyed! (this is being posted before proofreading, so I hope it’s okay— I’ll read through it later, it’s just late and im tired lol)
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propertyofwicked · 6 months
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"it'll grow back" - LN
v short. just expressing my sadness for the loss of beard lando </3 it's been a rough day lads
tried a little bit of social media au stuff so lemme know if that works <3
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“hey ba-”
“you are in so much trouble,” you announce as he picks up the phone, pacing around the airport waiting for your layover flight to join him in australia.
“wha-? why?” lando says, his voice wavering slightly in panic, trying to remember everything he’d done in the last 24 hours that could anger you.
“how could you? how could you shave before i got to say a proper goodbye?” you whine down the phone, exaggerating your sadness at the loss of his facial hair.
“im sorry ba-”
“no i dont wanna hear it. firstly - i had to find out through twitter! AND my flight lands in 5 hours - you couldn’t wait till then?”
“if i waited you would’ve talked me out of it!” he argues back in jest.
“precisely!” you argue, the phone line falling silent, asides from max laughing in the background, and lando clearly trying to stifle his own giggles.
“max you’re a traitor! you promised me you would stop him,” you say, knowing he can hear you. max says nothing in response, just continues to laugh until he’s wheezing.
the announcement of your flight boarding was probably well timed, alerting you that you need to leave before the argument get serious.
“get on your flight angel, ill be at the airport to pick you up when you land.”
“you better be, you owe me.”
-
when you finally spot him in the airport, your pace quickens to meet him and his embrace. he presses a kiss to the top of your head, his arms moving to rest on and behind your shoulders. your head rolls backwards slightly to look up at him, as sigh escaping your lips when you see the lack of facial hair in person.
“12 seconds!” max exclaims from behind him, holding up his phone timer, “it took you 12 seconds to make a remark about him shaving!”
“hey! i didn’t even say anything,” you argue back.
"debatable."
“it’s ok y/n - it’ll grow back,” lando says, grinning at you before looking down and kissing your lips. the lack of scruff touching your face is unfamiliar.
“but now it feels like i’m kissing a 13 year old boy.” max snorts at your response, lando just keeps smiling down at you.
“when did you last eat?” lando asks, moving the conversation along, as he grabs your suitcase and starts walking to the car, you and max stood either side of him.
“erm, on the first flight - so i don’t know but i am starving.”
“let’s go get you some dinner. i’ll pay, call it an apology.”
“lan, you’d insist on paying whether i was owed an apology or not,” you retort, moving to sit in the car.
“i’ll make it up to you tonight,” he says, smirking at you. you had almost forgotten max was there till he started making fake vomit noises at lando’s comment.
“i’d love to see you try.”
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planetaryupscaled · 5 months
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Best You Ever Had
Male Reader x IVE Yujin
Tags: 10k, anal, age-gap, cheating, creampie, oral, squirt
The story is not ours, we alternate the original story to match our desired settings.
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“What?”
“What do you mean you hooked up with Sungho?”
“Keep your voices down!” Wonyoung barked at her teammates, Yujin and Gaeul. The three idols were on set working on their next album.
“What do you mean you hooked up with Sungho?” Gaeul asked in a much quieter voice.
“I mean, we had sex,” Wonyoung replied.
“Why?” Yujin asked. “He’s kind of cute, but he didn’t seem like he’d be your type.”
“He’s not.”
“So then why do it?” Gaeul reasked the question.
“Because…because…I…” Wonyoung tried to think of an acceptable answer. She hadn’t meant to tell her friends that she had hooked up with the newest staff member working on their MV. Now she had painted herself in her corner, and she couldn’t think up a good lie, so Wonyoung did something crazy. She told her friends the truth. “Because I fucked his dad.”
Yujin and Gaeul froze in shock. They looked at her and then at each other before turning back to Wonyoung and both shouting “WHAT!?!”
“Quiet!” she snapped back at her two friends.
“No,” Yujin answered back. “You can’t tell us you had sex with Sungho’s dad and not expect us to react.”
“Seriously. Why? How?” Gaeul added.
“Okay, fine. Let’s go back to our dorm and I’ll tell you both everything.” The three of them picked up what was left of their lunches and retreated to their dorm. Wonyoung told them how she was out at a grocery store and ran into a guy she recognized from the set. They started talking as they shopped as they went to pay at the register he asked her if she wanted to get dinner at a place across the street. Wonyoung said he was handsome and she liked talking with him so she agreed. She enjoyed having dinner with him and the next thing she knew she had invited him to their dorm and she was pinned up against her bedroom wall making out with him. The two had sex all night long and she barely got an hour of sleep before she needed to head to set.
“When was this,” Yujin asked.
“Remember that early morning shoot like three day ago when you asked me if I was still drunk from the night before when you saw me?”
“Yeah,” Yujin answered.
“Well, turns out I was drunk. Cock drunk,” Wonyoung laughed.
“Wow,” Gaeul laughed at Wonyoung’s joke. “Um, wait you said you thought he was part of the staff member? Who is he?”
“He’s always on set, usually in jeans and a t-shirt or like a henley. Sometimes has a hat on. He’s got dark hair and like a scruffy beard.”
“Oh, I know who you’re talking about,” Gaeul said. “He’s Sungho’s dad? He looks like he’s almost my age.”
“Turns out he had Sungho when he was in high school.”
“Wait, so you knew he was Sungho’s dad when you had sex with him?” Yujin asked.
“No, I didn’t find that out until we were taking a break the next time.”
“Next time? So this happened more than once?” Yujin asked.
“Yes. We did it like 4 or 5 times. The sex was really, I mean really amazing. I wasn’t going to just do it the once.”
“So how did you go from having sex with his dad, to fucking Sungho?”
“I felt bad about hooking up with his dad, and I felt weird about our age difference. And then I began to think if maybe his dad has this big cock and is amazing at sex, maybe Sungho was too. So then, one day after filming I invited him back to our place and we did it.”
“How was it?” Yujin asked excitedly.
“Honestly?” Wonyoung said while trying to think about how honest she wanted to be. Finally, she said, “He has about 50% of the dick as his dad with maybe 25% of his skills.”
“Oh,” Yujin said disappointed.
“Don’t get it wrong, when I say 50% Sungho isn’t small or tiny. His dad’s just really hung.”
Wonyoung gave a few more details about her sex with Sungho and his dad. It was then time for the three of them to get back on set. As they worked the three idols checked out the 6’2” guy in jeans, a hat, and a scruffy beard standing off to the side of the set. As they looked over at him, both Gaeul and Yujin had to admit to themselves that he was a handsome guy in good shape. Neither could believe he was old enough to be someone’s dad.
It was a few days later while Yujin was at the craft services table looking for a snack when Gaeul moved up close to her and said, “Wonyoung was right about Sungho’s dad.”
“What?” Yujin said in shock. “You had sex with him?”
“No,” Gaeul said while looking around to see if anyone had overheard Yujin. “No, we didn’t have sex. Not yet anyway. But I did give him a blow job during lunch break today. And she was right. He’s hung and he cum in bucket loads.”
“Oh. So are you going to…”
“See if he is as good in bed as Wonyoung claims?” Gaeul finished Yujin’s question. “Yes. I invited him over tonight. Don’t tell Wonyoung.”
“My lips are sealed,” she told her friend.
The next morning Gaeul once again informed Yujin that Wonyoung was being accurate in everything she said. Telling her that if she had not stopped him they probably could have gone all night and that even though it had been hours since he was last inside of her, she could still practically feel his cock inside of her.
As Gaeul gushed about the details of her night, Yujin was starting to feel a ping of jealousy build in her. Yujin was used to being the hot one on the show. The one who internet perverts and men in real life tended to drool over.
It wasn’t until three days later that Yujin made her approach, seeing him standing alone, on his phone, standing beside the craft services table. She walked over to the tape and got herself a bottle of water, and then took several steps toward him.
“I heard a rumor that you’re Sungho’s dad,” she said as an icebreaker.
“You heard correctly,” he looked up to see her standing before him. “I’m Minho.”
“Yujin.”
“Yeah, I’m aware,” he said with a chuckle.
“So, I have to ask, how are you his dad? You look like his older brother.”
“I knocked up his mother the summer before my senior year of high school.”
“That’s young,” Yujin said as she began doing the math in her head of how old he was, and realized he must have only been around 36. “Was she your high school sweetheart or something?”
“Not exactly. More, like my best friend’s older sister.”
“Wow, that’s a twist. There has to be a story there.”
“There is,” Minho replied.
“I would love to hear it,” she told him. Minho hesitated for a little bit, and then the two walked over to a corner and he began telling her his story. How during the summer before high school, he had gone to his friend’s house after a party and after putting his drunk friend to bed he ended up watching TV with his friend’s sister who was home after her sophomore year of college. The two ended up hooking up on the couch that night.
Then a week later when his friend and his parents went on a road trip to tour colleges, Minho and his friend’s sister spent most of the week having sex. The result was her accidentally becoming pregnant with Sungho, and the two of them reluctantly got married after he graduated high school.
Yujin asked if he had married the first woman he had ever slept with. Minho corrected her and told her how he had lost his virginity the night of his school’s junior prom. Once they were married, they had remained faithful for a while, or at least so he thought.
The two were never a good match for one another, but they faked it for Sungho. The only exception was in the bedroom, in there was the one place where they got along. And since they were both so young and didn’t have the most experience outside of each other, they experimented and tried a lot of new things in the early years.
It was 10 years into the marriage that he found out that his wife had been having an affair with someone in her office. He had been having suspicions for a while, but he didn’t have it confirmed until he saw them kissing in a back hallway during a company party. Minho had been faithful since they got married up until that night.
When they got home, Minho volunteered to drive their babysitter back to her college dorm. In the car, he began to vent about his wife to the 18-year-old college girl, and then the next thing he knew he was parked on the top level of one of the campus garages with his babysitter in his lap, riding his cock. It was two whole days before he broke his wedding vows again, and a week before he broke them with another different woman. This time it was with his babysitter’s friend who sometimes filled in for her babysitting for him.
It was not long after that, while staying together for Sungho, they were just openly sleeping with other people. There was no animosity towards each other, they were just more like friendly roommates (who still occasionally fucked) trying to raise a kid. They did not get a divorce until two years later when his wife and her mom came home early from a spa day and found Minho having a threesome with the babysitter and her roommate.
After that, the cat was out of the bag and they saw no more reason to pretend. After the divorce, Minho would alternate spending weekends at his new place taking care of Sungho, and other weekends often sleeping over at a sorority house living out the college fantasies he never got to experience after high school.
“Sounds like you have a problem with college-age girls,” Yujin said after she had dug pretty deep into questions about Minho’s sexual past and found that many of his stories.
“I wouldn’t say I have a problem at all. If anything, I’d say I have a real talent for bedding women” he replied somewhat proudly.
“I meant more like you’re drawn to them.”
“I am sure a doctor would say that there is some deep-rooted reason with me feeling like I skipped over those years by having a kid and getting married, so now stuck perpetually making up for those lost years,” Minho said. He then leaned over toward Yujin and asked, “But you know what I think?”
“What’s that?” she asked intrigued by where this conversion was going.
“I think I am just a guy who likes sex and enjoy having sex with hot women.”
“Like Wonyoung and Gaeul?” Yujin asked, implying that she knew about their hookups for the first time.
“Yup, exactly,” he said, not missing a beat. He was not surprised at all that Yujin knew about him bedding her teammates. He was anticipating that she would.
“You know, most people think you’re on set to keep an eye on Sungho and to help him. I wonder what people would say if they knew you seem to be here to bed the idols,” Yujin said daringly.
“I can do both those things at the same time, I’m quite good at multitasking. Though maybe we should keep the second part of that to ourselves,” he told her. The tension and flirtatiousness between the two had been building for some time. It was not unexpected for Minho. One thing he had learned in all those nights at the sorority house was, if you wanted to hook up with the top girl in a women's friend group, the best strategy isn’t always to go right for her.
After a few days on set, Minho could see that Yujin walked around the set with a sense of entitlement and acted like she was the queen bee. He had not planned to sleep with Wonyoung that first night, but after getting with Wonyoung and then also Gaeul, he knew it was just a matter of time before Yujin started circling him. So, when she came up to him today, he was not surprised. What did surprise him was the next question that came out of her mouth.
“Have you ever done anal?” Yujin asked very frankly.
“What?” Minho asked, taken aback by her question.
“Have you ever had anal sex with a woman?”
“Yes, I have. A number of times. Why?”
“My boyfriend wants us to try it,” she told him. “We’ve done just about everything else, but neither of us has ever done that.”
Minho wasn’t sure if he truly believed her. Not about her and her boyfriend having never done it, but that Yujin was still an anal virgin. He’d always been pretty good about reading people and his gut told him that the idol had already done a wider variety of sexual things in her life. Still, he kept playing along. “And you’re nervous about trying in it.”
“What? No.” she retorted, “I just don’t want it to be bad. My experience has been if at least one person knows what they are doing, the sex is SO much better compared to when neither knows.”
“So…”
“So, I want you to teach me?”
“Anal?”
“Yes.”
“You want me to teach you how to have anal sex?” he asked once more for clarity.
“Yes.”
“I flattered, Yujin, I am. But I’m not sure how to teach something like that. In my experience, the best way to learn something like that is by doing it.”
“The same for me,” she said suggestively.
With that, Minho got the clarity he had been looking for. He pretended as though he was still contemplating what she was asking of him, but he already knew he was going to say yes. After a bit more back and forth, he thought he might see what else she might have to offer. “So, I do you this favor and teach you about anal so you can perform for your boyfriend. What do I get in return for doing you a favor?”
“You’re getting a night where you get to direct me around and have me do what you want, and you get to live knowing you took my anal cherry, and you want more?” Minho quickly back peddled and agreed to help the idol out by becoming her teacher. “Just one more thing,” she added.
“What’s that?”
“How do I know what Wonyoung and Gaeul have said about you is true? You could have put them up to it. Have them tell me stories.”
“To trick you into bed with me?” Minho asked.
“Something like that. You wouldn’t believe some of the things people have told me they’d do just to have me touch them.”
“So, you want proof?” he asked. Yujin looked him in the eye and shrugged, her eyes then darted down to his crotch and he saw the idol’s tongue quickly swipe across her lips. Minho looked down, and while he knew he was not fully hard, there was a definite bulge in his pants. Looking back up at Yujin, he told her, “I’m not going to pull it out right here right now, but I can get you some proof.
Minho reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. He tapped on his phone and asked Yujin for her phone number. He tapped on the screen a few more times, and then a message notification went off on Yujin’s phone. She took out her phone and opened the messages. Her eyes went wide as she looked at them. The first picture was looking down at the body of a naked man with a naked Gaeul sitting on his legs and a large naked cock sticking straight up and pressed against her stomach. The second picture was of an open-mouthed smiling Wonyoung, with her tongue sticking out. She looked to kneeling on the floor looking up at the camera. Next to her face appeared to be the same hard cock as the first photo. Her chin was down at his balls and the tip of his cock was up by her forehead.
“Proof enough?”
“It’ll do for now,” she told him. She then clicked around her phone and when she was done, Minho’s phone chimed with a new notification. “Just so we’re even,” she told him.
Minho checked his phone and he had received a picture. It was a bathroom mirror picture of a woman. Her head was cut off, but in one hand was her phone and the other hand covered her naked breasts. Moving down her body, she did not have anything else on, but she positioned herself so the countertop cut off right where her slit would begin. She was completely shaven.
The two agreed to meet later that night as Sungho was going to be filming some night scenes for another member. She agreed to come over to his place at 9 PM. After they left each other, both were pretty worked up. The flirtation had gone pretty high, and the photos they shared had both of them ready to tear at each other’s clothes. Minho considered texting Wonyoung or Gaeul to see if either wanted to meet for a quickie, but decided to save the load for later that night. Yujin on the other hand went back to her dorm and fingered herself to a big gushy orgasm. For the rest of the day, the two tried to be discreet as they checked out each other from across the room. When they wrapped on the day, Minho stopped by a store on his way home to pick up a few things for the night.
It was a little past nine at night when there was a knock on Minho’s door. He answers barefoot wearing a t-shirt and jeans.
“Hi, old man,” Yujin said with a seductive smile and then stepped into the house. Once she was in and he shut the door, she spun around, “Or should I call you a professor? Since you’re going to be teaching me tonight.”
“Just Minho is fine,” he told her.
“We’ll see about that.” Minho, not sure how comfortable she’d be with him taking her right to his bedroom, led her to the living room.
“You look pretty comfortable tonight,” he commented regarding her outfit. She had on a cotton belly shirt and matching cotton shorts under an oversized button-up shirt, long white socks, and white sneakers.
“I thought about dressing up, but then I figured I might as well wear something that comes off easily since I probably won’t have it on for long.”
“Just how easily does it come off,” he flirted.
“See you are a dirty old man.”
“I’m not that old.”
“Old enough to have a son about my age.”
“True, but I’m still young enough that I have a libido that rivals most teenagers,” he said as he took a seat on his couch right in front of Yujin.
“We’ll see about that,” she said as she stepped up to him and stood over his legs.
“Feel free to start testing out my claims whenever you want.”
“I would, but I’m here so you can teach me about anal. So, I think you’re supposed to tell me how the lesson is meant to begin.”
“In that case, lose the shirt and come here,” he said patting his lap. Yujin quickly threw off her button-down shirt and in one motion she got on the couch, straddled his lap, and pressed her lips against his. The two of them spent the next few minutes with their mouths locked together and their tongues intertwined. As they continued making out, Yujin began wiggling and moving around in his lap. He was getting ready to break off the kiss and ask her what she was doing until Yujin finally found the spot she was looking for. Instead of straddling his lap, she now straddled one of his legs, and her crotch was pressed right down on top of his hard cock encased in his pant leg. She was now grinding her crotch right against his hard shaft. Even through his pants and her shorts, he could still feel the heat radiating from between her legs.
“How many guys have you made cream their short,” Minho asked after a few more minutes of dry humping.
“A lady never tells,” she said with a blushing smile that let him know that the real answer is probably a decent amount.
“That's why you like guys with experience?”
“It’s nice being with someone with a little extra stamina and know won’t let a load go to waste in their pants.”
“Okay. Wanna know what else is nice?”
“What?”
“If you had taken off both your shirts earlier.” Yujin smiled and quickly pulled her tank top off, exposing he braless breasts. Minho sat back and took in the sight of her breasts, taking a series of mental pictures to memorize before wrapping his arms around her back and pulling her towards him. He then began kissing, licking, and sucking on her tits. Yujin was enjoying the attention being paid to her breasts, so much so that she didn’t realize he was pushing his hand into her shorts until she felt him push a finger into her.
“You seem to be enjoying this,” he said as he pulled his hand out from her shorts and showed off how wet his fingers were. She didn’t answer his question. She just took his hand into hers and brought it to her mouth so that she could suck his finger clean. “Maybe we should take this to the bedroom?”
“That sounds good,” Yujin told her. She got off his lap but she stood close enough that Minho could not stand up right away. She then pushed her shorts down and stood in front of him in only a pair of socks. It was only once she was naked that she then took a step back and gave Minho the room to stand up. His eyes immediately went to her glistening wet pussy that was totally devoid of any hair. “Lead the way,” she told him once he was on his feet.
He led her to the bedroom and Yujin immediately jumped onto the bed when they got in the room. She sat up on her knees with her legs spread apart. She then beckoned him over to join her on the bed.
“Not yet,” he told her. He pulled off his show and then he picked up a shopping bag off his dresser. “I picked up a few things for you on the way home.”
He handed her the bag, and she pulled the items out one by one. First was a box of condoms, then a bottle of lube, the next two items were packages of the morning-after pill, and the last item was a chrome buttplug with a heart-shaped red jewel at the end.
“Is this what I think it is?”
“If you think it’s a toy that is made to go in your butt, then yes.”
“I thought we were going to have anal sex?”
“We are, but that is going to help stretch you out a bit.”
“Okay.”
“But first, we’re going to have to get your body to relax so I can put it in.”
“And how do you suppose we do that?”
“You’re going to layback and I am going to show you what it is like to have your pussy licked by a man who knows what he is doing.”
“You think you're better at eating pussy than most guys? That’s a bold statement.”
“I think you’re used to guys licking you just enough to advance things to get to sex. You’ve never had a guy eat you out simply because he wants to eat you out?”
“What’s the difference?”
“If you’d stop asking questions, you’ll have your answer within the next five minutes.”
“You seem pretty sure of yourself,” Yujin said as she moved to lay on her back on the bed. Propping her head up with pillows so she could look down at her naked body. She watched as he got down between her legs, lifting each over his shoulders and wrapping his arm around her thighs. He gave her one last look and gave her a wink before diving between her legs. Yujin rolled her eyes in response. Five minutes later, Yujin’s eyes were rolling again, but this time they were rolling back while her leg was also up in the air twitching.
“OH MY, FUCK, YES!!” Yujin yelled out as her pussy spasmed. Minho happily licked up the juices from her squirting pussy as her juices soaked his face.
“Wow,” Yujin said as her orgasm subsided. “If that’s how they eat pussy, maybe I should only boof older guys from now on.”
“I can’t promise you all older guys are that good.” He let her take a few more breaths before asking her “Ready to go again?”
“Again? Really?” Yujin asked. The excitement in her voice was all he needed to hear. He didn’t even bother with an audible response. Instead, he just wrapped his lips around her clit and began to suck. Yujin was once again putty in his hands, which is exactly what he was hoping for. He wanted her relaxed and distracted. Her focus was on his tongue and lips, and while they worked her folds, his hands were busy popping the lid off of the lube bottle and smearing the gel all over the buttplug that was in his other hand. All the anticipation seemed to have played a factor in how quickly Yujin came that first time, as Minho was having to work handed this next round of oral to get her right where she wanted him. He even had to put the plug down to that he could use his fingers to rub her g-spot as his mouth worked her clit. When she began moaning that she was close and telling him not to stop, Minho grabbed her hips and lifted her so her ass and lower back were off the bed as he sat up and kept her hairless pussy up to his mouth. He kept eating her out and waited until once again she had another orgasm. He drank up her juices until he felt her body go mostly limp after climaxing. As soon as her body felt like it relaxed, he quickly pushed the buttplug into her. Yujin was taken so off guard that she didn’t react until her ass had been penetrated by the toy. She let out a gasp as she felt the toy invade her body.
“You fucker,” Yujin scolded him. “Give me a little warning.”
“If I did that, you would have gotten in your head and you would have clenched up.” That reasoning did make some sense. “You asked me to give you a lesson on anal,” He reminded the idol.
“True, but still,” she said as she reached back and rubbed her ass. Being careful when her fingers touched the end of the toy. Minho suggested that she take a look at it in the mirror. Yujin got off the bed and stood in front of a large full-length mirror. She turned her back to the mirror and bent over. She looked at the chrome toy protruding from her ass. She reached back and touched the toy, she then gave it a slight tug, and then twisted it around.
“How does it feel?” Minho asked as he admired Yujin admiring her own ass.
“Weird,” she told him.
“Weird as in good or bad?”
“I don’t know. Just weird.”
“Does it hurt?”
“No.”
“Alright, well come back over here and just get used to the feeling. I’ll help you take your mind off of it while you adjust to it.” Yujin moved quickly to get back into the bed. She could not believe that a man was willing to go down on her three times in a row before even exposing his cock to her, but she was not complaining. Minho even would have done it a fourth time, he was enjoying himself so much making the idol’s body tremble in orgasm after orgasm, but when he attempted to go for it a fourth time she had to stop him. Her clit was too sensitive at the moment and could not take the feeling of getting touched again. With her too sensitive for him to orally please her, he decided it was finally time for him to remove his clothes. He got off the bed and stood at the foot of it.
“It’s about time,” Yujin said as she saw his hand move to undo the button on his jeans. She scurried around so that she lay on her stomach on the bed with her face by the end of the bed. She eagerly looked on as Minho continued removing his pants just a foot away from her face. Yujin’s eyes went wide and her mouth opened in a wide smile as she dropped his pants and his hard cock sprang free.
“Oh my,” she said as she reached out and touched his cock, “It’s even nicer than it looked in the pictures.” She rubbed her hands up and down his cock before taking hold of it. “You have a great-looking cock,” she told him.
“Thank you.”
“I knew you’d be bigger and thicker than my boyfriend, but I don’t know how but it’s also prettier than his.”
“You’re not the first to tell me that I have a pretty dick,” he told her confidently. “I am also told it tastes really good too,” he said as he while taking a step forward. Yujin looked up at him with a happy smile and licked her lips. When her eyes left his, they refocused on the cock in front of her and she moved forward with an open mouth. She took two inches into her mouth before closing her mouth tightly around it and then slowly dragged her lips back until only the tip remained in her mouth, giving it a hard suck. She worked her tongue around the tip for a bit, and then popped his cock free of her mouth. She then worked her tongue up and down the shaft, getting it nice and slick for her hands to later use when she pumped her shaft and her mouth worked the top half of his dick.
Minho appreciated Yujin’s oral work on his rigid member. While it felt good, it felt a little like she was holding back. She was working his cock with her mouth for her own enjoyment rather than wanting him to get off. He also noticed when she moved her one hand that was off of his shaft down her body and between her legs. Her mouth and tongue worked his manhood with a building urgency the longer she played with herself as she blew him. He was finally really starting to feel some pressure building in his balls when the idol’s still clad only in socks, pulled his dick from her mouth.
“I can’t wait, I need you inside me,” she announced as she spun around on the edge of the bed. “I’ll make it up to you later,” she said referring to giving him a blowjob, “I just can’t wait anymore.”
Minho hardly moved before Yujin had spun around with her pussy right at the edge of the bed. She even spread and lifted her legs in the air, her arms grabbing behind each knee to make sure they stayed up and spread. Minho thought about teasing her, rubbing his cock along her wet fold and bumping against her clit until the young idol was shaking in anticipation. However, she looked so good like that waiting for him that he could not control himself much either. So, he just stepped into position and pushed his cock forward He had a little resistance before Yujin hairless cunt finally split open for him and his cock began sliding in.
“Oh wow, that’s a fat cock,” Yujin moaned.
“Wait till you feel the full length.”
“Bring it old man,” she dared him. “Fuck me.”
Minho had watched her enough around set that on the outside Yujin had a sweet yet entitled personality, but he always knew that underneath it all was very sexual and thirsty girl. He was glad to see that that side of her was now on full display as he pushed his cock inside of her. While she was tight, she was also so wet that he did not have too much difficulty bottoming her cunt. He started off slowly, but Yujin let it be known that she wasn’t into that. He started thrusting harder and faster, which got her moans going louder. She let go of the back of her leg and instead move them up onto his shoulders and crossing her feet behind his neck. Her hands now went to her breasts and squeezed them as she continued to encourage Minho to hammer her with his cock.
“So good. You have such a good cock.”
“Better than your boyfriend’s?” He asked wanting to see if she would actually answer.
“So much better,” she answered.
“Better than whoever it is you are secretly fucking?” he didn’t know for certain that she actually was hooking up with anyone else, but based his interactions with her today he felt pretty good about it.
“Yes. Fuck. From now on you’re my go-to dick.”
“I like the sound of that,” he said as he picked up the tempo of their fucking even more.
“We’ll see. I am going to drain you old man,” she told him. At first Minho really despised her calling him and old man. He wasn’t even that old. Though as she kept calling him it as they did more and more sexual things, he was starting to get into her calling him that.
Based on how desperate she was for him to stick his dick inside of her, Minho had no doubt that she would orgasm before he would. And was proven correct. Yujin grabbed hold of the mattress as she squirted and her legs trembled. As she climaxed, Minho slowed down to long slow strokes inside of her, but it felt so good to have sex with the starlette that his body refused to let him stop moving completely.
“Let me get on top,” Yujin finally told him as she came out of her post orgasmic fog. Minho pulled out and got on the bed. He had barely had his ass hit the mattress before Yujin was climbing on top of him. “So big,” she moaned as she sank down on his hard dick.
As she began riding his dick, Minho reached up and started playing with her bouncing beasts. While still perky, they did have a considerable amount of shake to them as she bounced on his cock. After a few minutes Yujin leaned forward, so she and Minho were face-to-face and her tits were pressed against his chest. She gave him a kiss as she continued to rotate and grind her hips along his cock.
“It’s a shame you wasted so much time. First by not making any move and then spending weeks with Wonyoung and Gaeul instead of me,” she told him between kisses
“Jealous?” he asked.
“No, I’m mad.”
“Mad?”
“Yes mad. You’ve been walking around set with your great cock for months, and then when you finally do you it you waste it on them?”
“I wouldn’t saying wasting it,”
“We could have been having phenomenal sex for months now if I knew what you were hiding in your pants. And just admit it, I’m better in bed then them,” she spoke to him while looking directly into his eyes.
“I admit nothing,” he responded playfully.
“We’ll see about that,” she told him before giving him a deep passionate kiss. After the kiss she sat up and took her ability at riding his cock up another level. In his head he did admit that she was better than her friends, but seeing how competitive she was being about it, that was something he would never confess audibly to her.
“Get on all fours, I want to see that ass of yours before I wreck it,” Minho told her after a some more time with her on top had passed.
“Promises, promises,” Yujin mused as she dismounted his cock and got into position. She got on her hand and knees and he moved behind her. He gave her full ass a slap before grabbing her hips and trusted back into her. Pulling her cheeks apart, he could see the toy he had lodged inside of her. As he did her from behind, her took the end of her plug and twirled it around inside of her ass. While it felt a little strange having the toy in her ass be moved around, she did not mind the feeling at all, though that feeling didn’t compare to the feeling of Minho’s dick working her pussy. While he was doing her from behind, he was angling his thrust at a slightly downward motion causing his cock to brush against her g-spot with each thrust. The two of them kept going for as long as they could. They were near the end and it was a race to see who would finish first. Yujin ends up having her climax first but between the feeling of her pussy walls contracting and the sounds of her loud moans was enough to make Minho right at the brink.
Minho let go, a small grunt escaped his lips as his cock began erupting into the teenage idol. Yujin moaned as she felt him shoot his cum inside of hers. He did not put his whole load in her, he pulled out about halfway through and shot the remaining cum her had around her ass.
“Why did you pull out?” Yujin asked with disappointment in her voice when he finished.
“I had my reason. Why? Are you disappointed?”
“Yes. I wanted you to fill me to the point that your cum is overflowing out of me,” she told him. As she did, Minho could see her moving her hand down her body and begin rubbing her freshly fucked pussy.
“Maybe next time,” he told her. He then reached for the present he bought Yujin, and without warning he extracted it from her ass. He then began to use the buttplug to wipe the cum he had strayed onto her ass and began wiping it around her hole.
“Is it the time?”
“It seems like a good a time as any.”
Yujin was filled with nervous and excitement. Minho had her get the condoms and lube. Yujin then bent down and gave a few long hard sucks on his cock, making sure he was fully hard before putting on the condom, using both hands to roll the latex down his full length. Minho then had her to apply a generous amount of lube to his condom-encased manhood. He had her get at on all fours and had her look straight forward at a full-length mirror across from the bed. When she was in position he squirted some lube onto the entrance of her back door. He then used his cock head to smear the lube around. She was a little jumpy when she felt the tip of his cock brush against her back entrance.
“Just relax he told her,” and he reached under her and began fingering her. He watched as she closed her eyes and moaned. “Just concentrate on my fingers,” he told her. She was doing just that and he could feel her getting wetter. Once he could tell she was relaxed and not paying attention her gave a quick thrust, moving before she could react.
Yujin let out a squeal, surprised that her ass had just been invaded by the tip of Minho’s cock. Her ass immediately tightened around the head of his dick. He got her to relax and slowly pushed more of cock into her.
“Fuck you’re big,” she moaned.
“Just relax and it will start to feel good soon.”
“Easy for you to say, you not the one being split in half by a massive cock.” It took a little bit of time for Minho to get his full length into the Idol’s ass, but Yujin refused to quit until she had the full thing wedged inside of her. Once it was fully in, he let her sit with it inside her, letting her adjust to the feeling for a minute. He then began making small slow thrusts. Minho watched her face through the mirror, he saw how slowly the grimace on her face began to dissipate until finally, he heard a pleasurable moan.
“It starting to feel good?”
“Yes,” She answered, “Ohh, I like it.”
“You ready to take it up a notch?”
“Give me everything you got, old man,” she dared him. He didn’t think she knew what she was asking for, so while he started making longer faster strokes he was still holding back. It did not take long for Yujin to figure out that he was holding back. “Come on, harder.”
“You sure about that?”
“Either give me a real fucking or I’ll find someone else who can,” she told him as she looked him in the eyes through the mirror. With that, Minho slowly up to his tip and then slammed his full length into her ass. Yujin’s legs kicked up and her mouth went wide but no sound came out. From that moment on he gave it to her like an anal veteran and to her credit and to Minho’s surprise Yujin took it like a champ. Even when he gave her a few spanks, those were only met with grunts and moans of pleasure. With the way she moaned and the way her eyes appeared to roll back, Minho thought Yujin might have even had a small orgasm.
“OH GOD GIVE IT TO ME!” Yujin cried out.
“Yeah, you like my cock in your ass? You like having your ass fucked?”
“YES! So good! Soooo much better than I thought!” Yujin said as she dropped down to her elbows and began thrusting her ass back into my dick. She then asked, “Have you done this with Wonyoung or Gaeul?”
“Not yet,” he told her truthfully.
“Don’t bother, those batches can’t take it like I can. If you want an ass on set just come find me,” she told him.
“You have a very high opinion of yourself,” he commented.
“If I’m wrong, then tell me,” she told him. He didn’t say anything, he only gave her ass another smack in response. “That’s what I thought.”
Minho told her that he wanted to show her another position before he finished. They both let out their own groans of disappointment as he pulled off his cock from her ass. He then got off the bed and told her to roll over onto her back. Once she had done that, he grabbed one of her ankles and pulled her over to the edge of the bed. He pulled her so far that the majority of her ass was mostly hanging over the edge. Still, with her ankle in his hand, he lifted her leg up and held it out to the side. He then took his cock in and buried it back into Yujin’s ass, much to her delight. Using his other hand, he took her other leg and lifted it and spread it wide. Yujin was now on her back with her legs raised and spread eagle on the bed. Her body was on full display for Minho as he slammed his hips into her repeatedly. After a little bit, Yujin’s hand moved down her body and she began playing with her pussy as she got her ass fucked.
“This is amazing,” the idol loudly moaned.
“Starting to feel good now?”
“Yes!”
“Tell me what do you like better, having something in your ass, or do you just like my dick that much?” Minho said with brazen arrogance.
“Fuck, I can’t tell,” Yujin said as she fingered pussy.
“I guess we’ll find out after you show your boyfriend what you’ve learned,” he said. “Though I’m not sure he’ll believe you when you tell him he’s your first.”
“Why’s that? You plan on stretching me out that much?” Yujin flirted right back at the older man she had inside her ass.
“Put it this way, you might let him use it from time to time, but your…ass…will…forever…belong..to...me,” he informed her, slamming her hard on each of his last seven words.
“Yeah, old man? Is that…is that…ooooooohhhhhhh wowww,” the Damsel actress had her own words interrupted by her body as she climaxed once again. Soaking her hand as she stopped playing with herself. Minho smiled at the fact that the 20-year-old came with a thick cock buried in her ass. As he continued to work his mind was brought back to a moment where Yujin was having a bit of a diva moment on set, and he overheard one of the staff quietly say to other “How big is the stick up that girl’s ass, do you think?” If only those two could see her down.
He did end up letting go of her legs, which Yujin put one up on his shoulder and the other she wrapped behind his ass. He then bent down to kiss the idol, before moving his now free hands to her breast to play with. As they kept going, he thought about seeing if she wanted to try anal cowgirl, but he didn’t have a ton left in him and thought he’d hold off on that until the next round.
“Almost there,” Minho groaned as he continued to pummel her ass. He could feel the cum beginning to bubble up from his ass. It was only a matter of time now.
“Oh, yes. Then give it to me,” Yujin moaned.
“Yeah? You want it?”
“Yes give it to me.”
“Oh, I’ll give it to you,” he told her. Minho then pulled his cock out from her idol’s backdoor, yanked off the condom, and dove his full cock back into her wanting pussy. He then stopped holding back and injected her with his sizable load. It was unclear if it was him stuffing her pussy with his dick or the feeling of him filling her with his jizz that made Yujin orgasm once again, but regardless she let out an orgasmic cry and the body shock as he shot blast after blast of cum inside of her. He did not pull out until his cock had deflated a bit.
“You came inside me,” she said as she rubbed the reddened cunt. Pulling her hand away she saw her fingers were sticky with his cum on them. “You came a lot inside of me.”
“That is what you wanted?”
“Yeah, I did. I love that feeling when a guy does it. Ugghh, wow, and you came so much,” she said as she felt his cum leaking out of her.
“If you liked it that much, I’d happily do it a few more times tonight.”
“I’m sure you would you dirty old man,” Yujin said cheekily. She then asked, “What time is it?”
“A little after one,” he informed her.
“I need to get going.”
“Really? Tapping out already?”
“I should, but tonight was amazing. I can’t believe I took your whole cock in my ass. Hajoon’s going to be in for a surprise later this week.”
“Happy to help,” he said, “and if you need a refresher course before he arrives just let me know. I’d love to be of assistance.”
“How selfless of you,” the idol said sarcastically. “Do you mind if I shower before heading home?”
“Only if I can assist.”
“I knew you were going to say that,” Yujin said as she got up from the bed. “Just no sex, or else I might never leave.”
“As far as deterrents go, that’s not much of one,” Minho joked as he led Yujin to his bathroom. He turned on the shower and as Yujin tried pushing some of the cum out off her pussy, Minho went back into the bedroom for a moment and then went back into the bathroom and joined the idol in the shower. He grabbed his loofa, poured some body wash on it, and began washing Yujin. Starting with her shoulders he then moved down and began washing as well as just flat-out playing with her breasts, before taking a knee and washing her legs. He then handed the loofa over to Yujin and she washed him. First his back, then his chest, and then down to between his legs. At one point she stopped pretending with the loofah and just used both her hands to stroke his cock.
“So big,” she said softly with her eyes fixated on his erection. She then looked up at him in the eyes, and told him, “Your cock is truly lovely to look at.”
“Thank you. Your body is quite the sight to behold as well.”
He then told her to turn around. He stepped out of the shower for a moment, before getting back in behind her and taking the loofah, and reapplying more soap to it. He made no effort to keep his erection away from her. Instead, he intently pushed it against her as he reached around her body. He then began to wash her back, eventually moving down to her ass.
“Put your hands against the wall and bend over,” he told her. Yujin looked back at him and gave him a look. He reassured her, “I’m not going to fuck you, I promise.”
He then proceeded to wash her ass in-depth, reaching under her and washing her pussy. He spread her cheeks and dripped some body wash from the bottle down onto her rectum.
“I will tell you, if you really do want to make sure you are ready to surprise your boyfriend, you really should keep wearing this,” he said. He then picked up the buttplug he had snuck into the shower and pressed it against her ass. Yujin gasped as she felt it enter her. It did fit inside her much easier now than it did the first time he put it inside of her. She also enjoyed the feeling of having it inside of her much more. With the plug in and her still bent over, Minho reached under her ass and stuck two fingers and her tight warm cunt. As he fingered her, she leaned over her and said into her ear. “I promised I wouldn’t stick my cock in you, but didn’t say anything about my fingers.”
“So true,” Yujin said before turning her face and kissing him. “Finger my pussy, old man.”
“You like older guys don’t you?” he questioned her.
“Not especially, I just like guys who know what they're doing,” she confessed.
“Well, I do know a trick or two.”
“Yes, you do.” Minho then spun Yujin around so they were facing each other and the two made out while he finger-blasted her against the glass of the shower stall. He hooked his fingers and rubbed her g-spot while his palm brushed against her clit. Yujin also made use of her hands, reaching down and stroking his cock. The two were in a race to see who could use their hands to get the other off the fastest. Minho had a head start so he was able to get Yujin to cream all over his hand first. After her orgasm subsided, she pushed Minho backward, giving her the room to comfortably sink to her knees on the shower floor.
“I bet you’re just like every other guy out there and want to climax all over my face,” she said to him as she began using both hands to stroke his cock.
“Yeah, I am.”
“Then do it,” she told him. She looked up and maintained eye contact with him as she frantically jerked him off. Her eyes never left his as she worked his cock. Even when he said he was about to cum, she aimed his cock head directly at her face and kept her eyes open until she felt his first blast hit her on the mouth and nose. As he kept cumming, she could not help but smile as she felt it rain down her face. When she finally stopped feeling his cum, she opened one eye and then moved in and sucked the tip clean of any remaining cum. Minho just stood there and admired the pretty actress's face as it was covered in his spunk.
“How do I look?”
“All those guys who said wished they could give you a facial don’t know what they are missing out on. It’s quite a beautiful sight.” Yujin smiled broadly at his compliment. She licked off some of the cum that had landed on her mouth, and let him admire her face for a little while before she cleaned her face off under the spray of the shower. They each give themselves one last rinse off before turning off the water. Getting out of the shower they toweled off and wrapped themselves up. He kept an eye on her as she dried off and noticed that the idol never made a move to remove the plug in her ass. He then moved back to the bedroom with Yujin following a minute or so later.
“Are you sure you need to leave,” Minho asked as he sat down on the edge of the bed with her throbbing erection at full mass between his legs. Yujin looked down at his hard-on and instinctively licked her lips as she looked at it.
“The girls were right, that thing doesn’t quit, does it?” she said referring to his cock.
“You complaining about that?”
“Hardly. But, I do need to go. I need to get some rest before filming tomorrow,” she said. But then she undid her towel and let it fall to the floor. “But I suppose it would be cruel of me to walk out on you in that state.
Yujin then dropped to her knees and took his cock into her mouth. She began sucking on her tip and then brought her lips down along the side. “So, tell me,” she asked between slurps “Do you feel bad about sleeping with girls my age? Especially since Wonyoung and me are closer to your son age than yours.”
“I’m fine with it. I felt a little bad when I slept with his prom date during his graduation party.” He admitted. Yujin nearly choked on his cock in surprise when that happened.
“You what?” she asked.
“You heard right.”
“There must be a story there,” Yujin said as she stroked his cock.
“Her older sister was one of his former babysitters, one of the ones I frequently hooked up with, and the older sister told the younger sister about our adventures. So, the younger sister asked my son to prom, and after a disappointing prom night, she cornered me during his graduation party a few weeks later and demanded I give her what her sister had bragged to her about so many times before. So I did. And then I did again a few more times before we moved out to LA.”
“You are so bad,” Yujin said to him, and before bringing her lips back to his cock she added, “and I don’t believe you feel bad about doing her at all.”
“I did feel a little bad afterward doing that behind his back. But the sex itself did feel pretty good in the moment,” he admitted.
“Better than me?” She asked.
“You can’t let anyone win, can you?”
“Nope,” she said before sinking several inches of dick into her mouth. He let the actress suck his cock uninterrupted for several minutes before he spoke up again.
“Let me ask you, do you feel bad about cheating on your boyfriend with me?”
“This wasn’t cheating,” she said matter-of-factly.
“What we did tonight wasn’t cheating?” he questioned her.
“Nope. You were teaching me about anal so I could do it with my boyfriend this week. This was a learning exercise.”
“Okay, sure,” Minho could not help but chuckle at her reasoning.
“When we fuck again next weekend, that will be cheating.”
“Next week?”
“Yeah, my boyfriend leaves on Friday. My manager mentioned how he was leaving Thursday night to go visit his mom, so that means we have a few days where no one is going to be looking for us and checking in on us. So, what better way to spend it than in bed having an obscene about of sex?”
“Are you sure you can handle all that?” he asked her with cocky confidence. “I mean were stopping after only two rounds tonight.”
“That’s because tonight I was just testing you. Seeing if you lived up to the hype. You obviously passed,” she said and then stuck out her tongue and slapped his cock against it. “Next weekend I’ll show you what I can do. After next weekend you’ll be saying I’m the best you’ve ever had.”
“Oh really? So you’ve been holding back this entire time?”
“Yes. Probably 50% effort,” she told him.
“Yeah right, I highly doubt that.” Yujin simply smiled in response and then suddenly she took a majority of his cock into her mouth and did so with a casualty that showed she had been holding back a bit. She deepthroated him for a minute before pulling back and leaving just an inch or so in her mouth. She continued to work his cock, but now the way she moved her hands along his shaft and the way her tongue worked the underside of his dick showed that she had been holding back and she was much more skilled than she had previously shown. She was also now not stopping to talk or make any chit-chat. She was showing a determination to show the older man that the she was better than other more experienced women he had been with. It only took a few minutes until he blew his load down her mouth, and despite the amount, she was able to swallow it all.
“See, and that was just the tip of the iceberg,” Yujin bragged as she stood up and began picking up her discarded clothing. “If I were you, I would take it easy this week. You’re going to need all the energy you can store for next weekend.”
“Sounds good,” he said as he watched her naked body walk around the room. “I’ll see you next weekend,”
With her clothes tucked under her arm, Yujin said “See you around the set tomorrow,” before blowing him a kiss and strutting naked out of his bedroom.
It was two days later that Minho would see Yujin walking with her boyfriend, Hajoon, around the set. Yujin blushed a little when she caught eyes with Minho from across the room. When Minho saw Hajoon walk away, he quietly maneuvered himself around the stage until he was standing next to Yujin.
“So, have you given your boyfriend his gift yet?” Minho quietly asked discreetly.
“I was planning on giving it to him tonight,” Yujin quietly replied with a smile.
“Does that mean, you’re wearing that thing I gave you?”
“Why do you think I haven’t sat down?”
“How does it feel?”
“Good. Though I may need to upgrade to something bigger,” she told him and gave him the biggest devilish smile he’d ever seen before she walked away.
The next morning when he woke up, he texted Yujin asking how things went last night. He did not get an answer right away. It wasn’t until about an hour later that got a reply. She messaged him saying it went well. That was followed up by a close-up mirror photo, with the message saying he could not get enough of it.
The photo was of Yujin’s ass with her cheeks spread apart and some cum trickling out of it. He then asked her if the photo was from last night or if she didn’t reply to his text right away so that her boyfriend could fill her and she could then send him a photo. She replied asking him if he really thought she’d have morning sex with her boyfriend specifically so she could send a teasing picture afterward. As soon as she said that, he knew that is exactly what she did.
Minho got some disappointing news later in the week when Yujin had to cancel their weekend plans. Her boyfriend had surprised her with plans for a weekend getaway trip. She told him she’d make it up to him, and then send a dozen nude pictures of herself, some full body and others close up, to ‘hold him over’ while she was gone. Thought that rain check was probably not going to happen when on Monday morning Yujin put out an Instagram post announcing that she was engaged. Minho congratulated her the next time he saw her on set and jokingly whispered, “I didn’t know he loved you giving him anal that much.” Yujin laughed at that.
He assumed that was it. He thought Yujin was off the board for him. And while he still enjoyed Wonyoung and Gaeul, he was a little disappointed he only got the one crack at the idol. That disappointment went away the Friday after the announcement of her engagement. Sungho had left to go out with several other staff for the night shooting, leaving Minho home alone. Not 15 minutes after Sungho left there was a knock on the door. Minho opened the door and was surprised to find Yujin standing there.
“Hi, old man.”
“Yujin, what are you doing here?” He asked with surprise.
“I told you I was going to make it up to you.”
“I thought that that went out the window when you accepted that ring.” He said looking down at the rock on the idol’s finger.
“I made a promise to Hajoon when I said yes to him, but technically I did make a promise to you first. And I always keep my promises.”
Once she said that Minho stepped aside and let Yujin into the house. “What was that promise again?” he asked playing dumb.
“I believe it was that I was going to show you that I’m the best in bed you’ve ever had.”
“What about Sungho? What happens when he comes home and finds you here?”
“I’ve taken care of that. Wonyoung owed me.”
“I believe you promised me an entire weekend of demonstrating your talents.”
“Wonyoung owed me several IOUs,” she informed him. “Now, why don’t you stop wasting time and take that cock out of your pants?”
1K notes · View notes
endlessthxxghts · 9 months
Text
Do You Like It Here?
Joel Miller x afab!Reader || W/C: 2k
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Summary: Joel contemplates shaving his beard. You are absolutely against that idea, and he makes you explain why.
Content/Warnings: Pics above are for aesthetic purposes only. Neutral descriptions of an AFAB reader (“your top”, “your shorts”, “your breast”, etc.). No use of “y/n”. Joel can carry you but there are no other descriptions of reader. Implied age gap if you squint. Joel being big and burly. SMUT 18+ MDNI. Joel being a menace. Hints of body worship. Dirty talk. Reader liking facial hair for dirty reasons🤷🏻. Joel on his knees for you…. ✨Bathroom counter✨ Cunnilingus. Tongue fucking. Face grinding. Hair pulling (m receiving). Joel’s fucking nose deserves a warning😵‍💫 Allusions to further sexual activity. As always, let me know if I’ve missed anything!
A/N: Can we tell how much I think about Joel eating pussy?💚 My sweet sweet Roman Empire. Enjoy. :-)
MASTERLIST || NOTIF BLOG -> @endlessnotifs
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“Should I shave it off?” 
You choke on your own spit, eyebrows hitting the ceiling. “What?”
“My beard. All this scruff. Should I shave it?” Joel asks you, his thumb and forefinger rubbing against his jaw, his eyes surfing his jawline in the mirror much too critically for your liking. 
“Do you want to?” You reply back, curious to understand what is going on in that chaotic mind of his. 
“No? Yeah? I mean,” he breathes. “I dunno. A lotta white is startin’ to come through, ‘n I feel like it makes me look… raggedy.” 
You frown. “Baby,” you say softly. 
You woke up before Joel, last night’s activities knocking him out cold right after you two cleaned each other up. Unfortunately for you, no matter how hard you fell into your slumber, your body always woke you no later than 7am. It was a blessing and a curse. You decided a shower was in order. 
As soon as you finished and got dressed, your burly, grumpy and sleepy baby of a man stumbled into the bathroom. Wanting his presence always, you hopped up on the bathroom counter, your legs hanging off the edge, and stayed with him as he continued his morning routine. It was after he brushed his teeth and washed his face that he posed his question to you. 
You place your hand on his jaw and pull him closer so he’s standing in between your legs. The light press of your fingertips never leave his face. “You don’t look raggedy,” you scold. “You look… well, you look fuckin’ sexy, for one. I love this look on you,” you admit, a little sheepish. Your eyes scan his facial hair once more before you glance at his eyes, then to his lips. Your finger traces his bottom lip. “So fuckin’ sexy,” you mutter, emphasizing your claim.
You don’t have to look into his eyes to know his demeanor shifted. You can feel the way his gaze darkened. He pulls himself closer to you, his knees knocking the cabinets. His hand starts on your knee, dragging it up your thigh and up your side until it settles on your jaw, his fingers grasping your chin to make you meet his eye. “Oh, is that so, darlin’?”
You gulp, your head softly nodding at his words; unable to speak as your eyes gloss over. “What else d’ya love about it, darlin’?” He pushes, his fingers tightening on your chin—words, he’s telling you. 
You can feel every part of your body heat up. “It…it…” you stutter. His eyebrow flicks up with a faintness only you’d catch. You clear your throat in hopes it makes you speak up. “You- you’re already so big ‘n broad, ‘n this… the scruff… it just adds to- to you,” you tell him shakily, your brain starting to flood with just how much you love his facial hair. “P-plus, it- oh my god,” you whine, unable to stop the spew of shit that’s about to fly out of your mouth. “It feels so good when it rubs against my thighs ‘n my-” you gasp. You don’t remember when it got there, but his other hand is gripping your thigh, his strength tightening at the last words that fell from your lips.
Slow, tantalizingly slow, he leans in. He places a lengthy kiss to your lips; your eagerness gets the best of you as you try and deepen it, but he’s already breaking away—moving down. His lips grace your jaw, your neck—more open-mouthed and needy these ones are, and he pauses. “Ya like how it feels here?” He says against your neck. Then he’s moving lower. 
He peppers kisses along your shoulder and the exposed parts of your chest your top shows. He licks and sucks at a particular sweet spot atop your breast. A breathy little moan escapes you, your arms falling limp to your sides—and out of his way. He pauses his kiss to breathe you in. Lavender. Vanilla. The shower you just finished still clinging deliciously to your skin. “Ya like it here, too, don’tcha?” He places one more kiss on the mark he just gave you, not giving you a moment to respond. 
Then. He’s falling to his knees. Today was supposed to be a lazy day for you two, so you settled on solely a pair of sleep shorts. Nothing more. His hands settle themselves underneath your thighs, scooting you as close to the edge as possible without making you off balance. He’s so tall that on his knees, his nose is belly button level with you. 
He pushes your thighs open. Starting at your knee, he places a swift kiss there. The higher he goes, the wetter and slower they become. A drop of sweat beads down your neck. His hands make their way to your sides, fingers dancing along the waistband. He meets your eyes for a silent confirmation. Planting your hands behind you for stability, you lift your hips for him, a whimpered please leaves your mouth. 
He pulls your shorts off slowly—the wetness staining the center of your shorts peels off of you, the cold air interacting with your slick sends a shiver down your spine. Joel lets your shorts fall to the floor beside him, his eyes darting to your glistening sex. “Fuckin’ wet,” he growls. “All worked up from my white beard? My old age?”
“‘S not what I meant,” you sputter, the kiss he places to your mound throwing you off-kilter. His hands grab onto your waist and he’s angling your hips forward, giving himself a full view of you. He does it again—kisses your sex—but this time, he puts his whole face into you as he uses his tongue to aid him, his scruff tickling all around, on your thighs, your clit. Your hips buck into his face at the sensation, a louder moan reverberating against the bathroom walls. 
“Oh,” Joel smirks. “Right there, huh. Ya like the way it feels right there? Right there on that sweet, perfect fuckin’ cunt, huh? Drives you mad? Wild?” He teases. 
You lament at his words, conflicted between which you want more—hearing his mouth or feeling his mouth? You're pulled from your internal battle when you feel yourself become impossibly wetter: a glob of warm spit lands right where you need him most. Fuck, fuck, fuck, yeah okay, you want to feel him. 
One hand behind you leaves from its place and reaches for his curls in an attempt to pull him into you. “Joel, baby, please,” you cry. 
His head doesn’t budge no matter how strong you are. “Nuh uh,” he tuts. “Tell me what I wanna hear,” he tells you. “Tell me what I wanna hear first, and then I’ll give it t’ya exactly, baby. Just be the good girl I know y’are f’me.”
“F-fuck. Fuck. Please, Joel, please-” you say impatiently. “I love the way it feels when I grind my fuckin’ pussy all over your face, baby, I love how it feels when it starts to burn against my thigh, the way it nudges and scrapes every part of me- it makes me feel like I’m on fuckin’ fire, baby, please,” you rasp.
“Atta girl, darlin’,” he coos, licking his lips before his hands pull you flush against his face, his tongue flying straight to your seam, licking a messy path that sends your slick and his spit everywhere. Instantly your head flies back, your hand curls into the roots of his hair once more as you moan and squirm against his grasp. 
Joel loves spending his time down there, but regardless of the fact, you’ll never get used to how fucking good he makes you feel. Joel is ruthless when it comes to eating you out—always making you see stars even in the light of day. 
“F-fuck, j-just like that, baby,” you pant, your one arm keeping you up threatening to lose balance at the greedy touch of his skillful tongue. He drags his muscle from your entrance and up to your clit, running circles and figure eights on it for a moment before he latches onto you—his lips completely wrapped as he suckles and continues to flick where you’re most sensitive. His dominant hand leaves your hip and he drags his fingers to your opening, his middle finger sliding in with ease—the sensation sending you to the edge of something white, hot, and all-consuming. 
“I’m- I’m gonna cum, Joel, shit, I’m gonna cum-” you squeak, your entire body feeling flushed at his actions. 
He pulls his finger out of you, his hand finding its rightful place perched against your hip as he pulls you impossibly closer once again, your ass nearly hanging off the bathroom counter, his grip the only thing keeping you up. Your arm loses its strength and you fall limp, your head thumping against the bathroom mirror, completely at the disposal of your man as he ravishes your sobbing pussy.
He lifts off your clit momentarily. “Give it t’me, sweet girl,” he tells you in a frenzy. His mouth is on you again, his tongue going straight to your hole—his tongue pushes inside of you as much as he can, his face pulled tightly against you. He begins moving, advancing his tongue in and out as you mindlessly begin grinding against face. With every upward push of your hip, his nose nudges at your clit and the pure ecstasy that washes through you is evident in the way you’re practically mewling above him, your obscene moans and gasps enough to make Joel’s hips thrust into nothing on their own accord in an attempt to seek some kind of relief. 
More arousal pours from you, and Joel is quick to drink it up. You can feel the way his tongue flexes as he gulps, and fuck, that is what sends you reeling. You yank onto his hair tighter, driving your hips into his face at a ravenous pace—practically fucking his face—and then it hits you. Eyes rolling to the back of your head as your back arches in this awkward angle, your orgasm hits you hard. It’s without warning, heart-pounding, toe-curling, addicting, and everything Joel. 
Your lips are babbling nothing coherent, the occasional drop of his name escaping your mouth as he continues to fuck you through your high. He’s moving much slower now, much more precise—as if he’s doing this solely for his benefit now, not yours. Which, you don’t mind. Even as you start to slip into overstimulating territory, you don’t want him to stop. 
You’d lay at his mercy for him to use you in any way he pleases if it meant you got to experience what it means to be loved by a man like Joel. With him, it’s all or none—none of that half in, half out bullshit. No, when Joel loves, he loves hard, and it’s evident in everything he does for you. Especially when it comes to your pleasure. 
A particular lick to your clit causes you to yelp out in a pleasurable pain, so Joel finally rises again, kissing your spent cunt one last time before he pulls you up, rubbing up and down your spine to ease the uncomfortable position you were in. 
“You okay?” Joel asks, slight concern and slight amusement on his features as he looks at your face. Pure bliss and contentment fills your features; he can still see the fog clearing from your head. 
“Yeah,” you mutter softly, a lazy grin plastered on your cheeks as you look up at his shiny face. Weakly, you bring your arms up and wrap them around his neck, pulling him in to kiss you. He takes the hint, and he bends down, letting your lips meet in a soft yet enthusiastic embrace. You love the way you taste, especially when it comes from his mouth. 
Pulling away breathless, both your and Joel’s eyes are aflame again. 
“Don’t shave, baby.”
“I won’t, darlin’.” 
You kiss him once more before he wraps your legs around his waist and carries you back to bed. 
You were wrong. It’s going to be a busy day after all.
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A/N: Thank you so much for reading, and I hope it made your private parts tingle you enjoyed💚 If you’d like to be notified for upcoming fics, follow my notif blog!
@pedrostories
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hamilando · 11 days
Text
ੈ✩ onlysainz (smau) ੈ✩
pairing :carlos sainz x fem reader ( piastri best friend )
summary : the admin chooses red
fc: Thylane Léna-Rose Loubry Blondeau
a/n : This is the series end, I know it was a short one , I might make a prologue though ! it was requested anonymously, thank you for requesting it 🫶🏻
·:。・゚゚・ ✩ ・゚ ・゚·:。・゚゚・ ・゚·:。・゚゚・ ✩ ・゚ ・゚·:。・゚゚・・゚·:。・゚゚・ ✩ ・゚ ・゚·:。・゚゚
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liked by norizz, ospastry, chillijr and 137 others
mcynburger why are all men in my life clean shaved ?
view comments
ospastry what now
mcynburger NO, YOU LOOK NICE, YOU DONT GROW ONE
mcynburger Wait, I forgot, YOU CANT EVEN GROW ONE 🫶🏻
norizz 👀
mcynburger PLEASE BET THE GOATEE BACK
norizz oh come on
mcynburger I will set you up with max
norizz done, threw out my razor
max1 excuse me what !?
max1 I AM LOYAL
mcynburger just like you are to red bull 💪🏻
georgey if toto begged me to join like that -
max1 you don’t have 3 wdc now, do you ?
hamsandwich you say that in front of me ?
chillijr hermosa? you like my beard ?
mcynburger LIKE!? LOVE 🧡
mcynburger ask oscar how much love it on you
lordperceval or me
alexmieux I know the sexual fantasies as well
mcynburger ALEXANDRA SAINT MIEUX
mcynburger Well, I won’t say no THE CARLOS SAINZ
albono don’t let love distract you from your target
lilyhye 💀
mcynburger Mate, go have some pad-thai
chillijr wait, if I ask you out you won’t say no?
mcynburger I would be mad if I do
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liked by chillijr, ospastry, alexmieux, max1 and 167 others
mcynburger onlyfans ❌ onlysainz ✅
view comments
ospastry WHY IS THERE SO MUCH NAKEDNESS
ospastry y'all so nasty
mcynburger it was hot 🔥
norizz I think I just stumbled on pornhub-
mcynburger THIS IS A CHILD FRIENDLY ACCOUNT
norizz SAYS THE LADY POSTING NAKED SELFIES
lordperceval this is literally my daily view
lordperceval I pray I become Carlos’ boyfriend in next lifetime
alexmieux stay at his house only then
alexmieux also, did you do the dishes ?
lordperceval I could eat off you …?
norizz Oh Lord, this is not your OF
chillijr I look good 👍🏻
mcynburger you always do 🥺
max1 and I thought it was not obvious they love each other
lordperceval you both fucked on first date
mcynburger not the first time 🤭
alexmieux COME TO GC LIKE RIGHT NOW !?
alexmieux YOU GET THAT SMALL ASS RIGHT HERE
chillijr it's not small -
lilyhye if you want the girl gc to approve, stay shut carlos
chillijr it’s not like you guys are going tell y/n to break up
carmenvroom where tf is she !?
chillijr in my bed, sleeping 😴
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liked by user1, user2, user3 and 2,754,389 others
mclaren a well deserved podium for the constructors 🧡💪🏻 congratulations @ scuderiaferrari
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user1 PAPAYA FAMILY
user2 why do I feel admin sneaked someone ?
user3 admin fangirling over Ferrari?
user4 admin, Spanish or French 🗿
mclaren Spanish any day 😗
user5 admin is simping over a certain someone
mclaren ssh 🤫 we don't let it go out.
user6 I think the admin has gained another bother 🙂‍↕️
mclaren * blocked *
user7 CHAT, ADMIN IS LETTING PERSONAL FEELINGS SHOW
user8 admin forgetting this is the main account
user9 I swear I only follow mclaren for the admin content
user10 admin right tho, who would not simp over Carlos !?
landonorris me
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liked by chillijr, alexmieux, lordperceval and 160 others
mcynburger one red mcfreak please 🔥🎸
view comments
ospastry I see dead people..
ospastry YOU BETRAYED ME
ospastry WHERE IS THE TROPHY !? SHE GOES RUNNING TO HIM
ospastry SOMEBODY THAT I USED TO KNOW
ospastry You were my sun, you were my earth
norizz you just googled that -
norizz the font
ospastry oh-
hamsandwich did soemthing happen between you and lily ?
ospastry NO, I WOULD HAVE DIED IF IT DID
ospastry my best friend, my diaper mate, my classmate, the girl who introduced me to the love of my life just abandoned for some red suit guy
mcynburger and then Lily left me for a idiot like you ?
ospastry I AM YOUR BESTFRIEND !
chillijr mi amor ❤️
mcynburger 🥺
ospastry not the Spanish nicknames 🥴
norizz we are telling zac, you traitor
mclaren We do not have any problem with our staff having their respective personal lives - Zak
norizz WAIT- ALL THIS TIME, THE OFFICIAL ACCOUNT FOLLOWS YOU ?
mcynburger duh, it’s my account technically
norizz they heard me bitch?
mcynburger duh, why do you think your salary reduced
norizz I LOVE MCLAREN 🧡
mcynburger @ ospastry dw, I will steal Ferrari strategies and give to you
ospastry Ferrari strategies? Then I can as very much retire with just one win
lordperceval it’s @ alonsomango we need to look out for
strollinginpark or my rich dad issues ?
max1 rich dad perks having to steal Adrian
max1 my car has become Mercedes 2.0
georgey meet you in the track you dutchman
lilyhye can you stop discussing cars while appreciating Carlos and y/n?
liked by mcynburger
alexmieux WE ARE FERRARI WAGSSS
alexmieux LESSGO
alexmieux WE LOOK SO GOOD IN THE MIDDLE PIC
mcynburger Y/n x Alex = best 🫶🏻
taglist : @sainzzreputaticn @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @goldenmclaren
@taliya8346282844eliviahdgdajs @formula1-motogpfan @npcmia @hc-dutch
@nuccibeboo2 @amberjazmyn @nataylia-f1 @fastfactory @sltwins @hoeforlifee
@scarletwidow3000 @kissesandmartinis @d3kstar @mayusaatma @willowsnook
@forza-dolce @velentine @runs-with-sciss0rs @unknownmystery22
@technicallypleaseanttree @lolzzzzzzzzzz @michelleyw81 @awritingtree
576 notes · View notes
jobean12-blog · 7 months
Text
Claimed
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader (Mob/Mafia AU)-Bookshop setting
Word Count: 3,513
Summary: Bucky has had his eyes on you for a long time and when he finally makes a move to claim you he's delighted at how easily you fall into his waiting arms.
Author's Note: Seb's new looks have just been so yummy, especially him in a bow tie. I LOVE! The look in the pic below is the end result of the story🫠It isn't really focused too much on his mob status but it's there and I couldn't resist a little bookshop AU in there too! Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰
Warnings: flirting, tension, Bucky is pretty forward/dom and doesn't mince words- he goes for what he wants-light d-irty talk, fing-er-ing, o-ral (f rec), but he's sweet too :)
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Your steps are slow and easy as you stroll through the aisle, perusing the titles and letting your fingers delicately slide across the bindings.
When you find one of interest you pull it from the shelf and before you read even one word you press the aged pages to your nose and inhale deeply.
The sound of a light chuckle pulls you from your aromatic reverie and you look up with a start, catching a man watching you with a lopsided smirk.
He nods a hello before disappearing down the next aisle. You stare at the space he just vacated and feel your skin heat.
Was he really that handsome or are you still recovering from the exquisite smell of the pages of the book? Only one way to find out.
With quiet movements you slip past the end of the fiction section and turn the corner, peeking around the next bookshelf. All you see is a young woman searching through the books.
Denying your disappointment you continue down the aisle but slow when you feel the weight of eyes at your back. Instead of turning around and looking too obvious you quickly glance over your shoulder and see the mystery man once again watching you.
He looks even more handsome than he did two minutes ago.
You almost walk into the woman who’s browsing and give her a startled apology before rushing off to hide in the rare book section.
Letting out a rush of breath you clutch a book to your chest and refocus on your surroundings.
“This is my favorite section.”
You spin on a gasp and blink.
“Excuse me?” you say quietly.
“This section,” he says again, “it’s my favorite. I love old books.”
“Oh,” you answer, backing away as he steps closer.
He stops advancing and looks at the shelf, studying the bindings until he finds one that interests him.
“Mine too,” you concede softly. “And they smell amazing.”
“As good as the books in the fiction section?” he asks, eyes dancing with amusement.
You let out a light huff of laughter, feeling warm embarrassment creep over your skin.
“Better,” you finally answer.
“I’d have to agree with you there,” he says before lifting the book he holds to his face and inhaling.
You can’t stop your small intake of air as you watch him savor the smell of the pages.
“So, do you come here often?” he asks, casting his gaze down to the words.
You let his question hang in the air as you take a moment to really look him over. His soft sweater does nothing to hide his broad shoulders and powerful build and his dark hair and beard frame a beautifully sculpted jaw.
Then he lifts his eyes, directing his steady gaze on you, and your breath catches in your throat.
“Um…I do. It’s my favorite book store. I can’t afford any of these books,” you say as you motion to the titles nearby, “but no one seems to mind that I come and spend the afternoon reading them.”
“I don’t see why anyone would,” he replies.
He places the book back on the shelf and slides his hands into his pants pockets, attempting another step closer.
This time you don’t move away and he smiles.
“I have quite the collection myself,” he informs you. “You should come see it.”
“Are you a collector?” you ask.
“Something like that doll.”
You school your features at the sound of the endearment falling from his perfect lips and smile.
He extends his hand.
“James Barnes. But you can call me Bucky.”
“Hi Bucky.”
You give him your name and he takes your hand in his, bringing it to his mouth and lightly brushing his lips across your knuckles before kissing them.
As you stare at him through your lashes his lips linger and he seems unwilling to let go of your hand.
“I mean it you know. You’re welcome to come see my collection…anytime.”
He slowly releases your hand with a wink then turns on his heel toward the doorway.
“But…,” you start, not even sure why you’re calling after him to ask your next question, “how will I find you?”
He turns to face you, his eyes set with determination, and says, “don’t worry doll face. We’ll be seeing each other again very soon.”
With those parting words he vanishes into the maze of books, leaving you caught between feeling frazzled and turned on.
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After several days of warm sunshine it finally ends in a wash of chilly rain and wind. But you’re warm and cozy in the back of the bookshop, curled up on one of the old leather chairs by the window, reading by the soft light of an antique tiffany lamp.
You’re so engrossed in your book that it takes you several minutes to recognize the familiar feeling of his stare and when you look up you find Bucky leaning against a nearby bookshelf, his arms crossed, watching you.
He looks just as good as he did the last time you saw him and you realize you’re staring back.
“Hey,” you whisper, clearing your throat.
“You must really be enjoying that book,” he says, a smirk pulling at his lips.
“I am. Have you read it?”
“Not this one,” he says as he steps closer and reads the title.
His nearness draws all of your attention from the book and for the first time you take notice of the small patches of gray hair that line his beard.
“It’s worth a read,” you tell him when your eyes meet his again.
“I’ll definitely check it out doll. I’m currently reading the first edition of ‘The Canterbury Tales’ by Geo…”
“Geoffery Chaucer,” you finish in a rushed breath. “Oh my god. You have a first edition!?”
Your eyes go wide with shock as you silently contemplate how much money that must have cost him.
“But…but…”
“I told you doll face, the old and rare books are my favorite.”
“I haven’t read that one yet but it’s on my list.”
“Well you’re welcome to my copy when I’m done,” he says, smiling widely when your mouth opens in shock. “But I have to warn you that when it comes to such treasures I’m a slow reader. There are some things I like to take my time with.”
As the last sentence leaves his mouth he unabashedly lets his eyes sweep over you. When your head dips to your book under his obvious perusal he presses his fingers under your chin to lift your gaze.
“Can I get you a coffee?”
“A coffee?” you repeat, all rational thought leaving your brain at the feel of his touch.
“They just put a fresh pot on up front.”
“Oh, right. That would be great thank you, let me just get my wallet.”
“No doll. I’ll pay.”
“Well, I don’t mind at all…”
“And I do,” he says definitively. “I offered and I’ll pay.”
“Thanks,” you whisper.
When he returns with two steaming cups of coffee you sigh in contentment.
“Are you always this much of a gentleman to the women you meet in bookshops?”
You ask the question with a playful smile but when his expression doesn’t match yours you instantly regret opening your mouth, your smile wavering.
“Despite my offering, I’m having a very difficult time remembering to be a gentleman around you doll.”
“Well maybe I shouldn’t be accepting this coffee then.”
Even though your voice is little more than a whisper you make no move to give him back the drink and instead you lean in closer.
“Maybe you shouldn’t,” he murmurs.
Your breathing accelerates before you take a slow sip of the coffee.
“And maybe I like the coffee too much to give it back.”
“I just warned you that I’m having a difficult time being a gentleman. Are you provoking me doll?”
Your tongue darts out to trace the outline of your lips, the taste of coffee still lingering. “Is that what I’m doing?”
His eyes track the movement and he rubs the pad of his thumb across your bottom lip, looking pleased when you inhale sharply but don’t pull away.
“Let me be clear here doll, since it seems like you enjoy playing this little game with me. I want you underneath me in my bed. I want to be buried so deep inside you that you’ll feel me for days. And I want to mark you so every other man who walks this Earth knows you’re mine.”
Your eyes widen with every word he utters and you feel goosebumps crawl over your skin when he tilts his head and moves closer until his warm breath fans your cheek.
“I just want to be up-front with you. Enjoy the coffee.”
He forces himself away, removing his hand and stepping back. And once again leaves with nothing more that the sound of his retreating footsteps.
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Life keeps you busy for the next two days but Bucky’s words are ever present, practically burned into your skin. So when you step back into the bookshop on Saturday evening you take solace in the familiar smells and sounds.
You wave hello to the barista and cashier, noticing their slight mischievous smiles as you pass by. You’re about to ask them what’s going on but then you see him and you know. Even among the shelves of beautiful books and warm lighting he stands out, his eyes boring into you.
The way he stands exudes a quiet confidence and a slow roll of heat eases it’s way through you when his unwavering stare moves over every inch of you.
Lifting your chin you hold his gaze and take your time getting your own eyeful. His button-down shirt is fitted just right with the top buttons open to reveal a gold chain and his long legs are clad in dark jeans.
He looks dangerous and sexy. And pissed.
You move toward him undeterred until you’re close enough to feel the heat radiating off him.
“Are you here to give me more warnings?” you ask.
He keeps his gaze locked on you and licks his lips.
“No. I think I was perfectly clear the first-time doll.”
“Is something bothering you, Bucky?”
“Where have you been?”
You would laugh at his nonresponse if your irritation weren’t growing hotter by the second.
“I’ve been busy. You know…work, errands…life.”
“I’ve missed you.”
You’re taken aback by his blunt and unexpected answer and can’t find the words to respond.
“I was afraid you didn’t want to see me again after what I said.”
You think back on his words for only the millionth time since he said them. An involuntary shiver runs down your spine at the memory.
“Did you get me a coffee today?”
His eyes light up in victory before he reaches behind him and hands you a cup, the drink prepared just how you like it.
For the next couple of hours the two of you browse the bookshop, spending the majority of your time in the rare section pouring over the titles in excitement and awe. You ask about his work and how he gathered his collection of rare books. He’s vague but polite with his answers, focusing most of his attention on you.
While you do most of the talking Bucky listens contentedly and intently, his constant regard slowly building and burning a hole through your enthused focus.
After a bit, it’s difficult to concentrate on anything else but him and you start to become more aware of how your body shifts closer to his, shoulders pressed together, heads close and your hand reaching out to graze his bicep.
Finally, the bookshop employees begin to let customers know they are going to close. You reluctantly put your current read back on the shelf and turn to Bucky.
“Guess it’s time to go,” you say quietly.
“I’ll drive you home doll.”
“No, no. That’s ok. I can take the train.”
“I insist,” he answers, stepping into your space and crowding you against the shelf.
“Ok,” you breathe out. “Thanks.”
His eyes drop to your lips and his hands hover at your waist, his fingertips just brushing the fabric of your shirt when the barista comes by and ushers you out.
With a release of breath you skirt past Bucky and grab your bag, heading for the exit.
Wordlessly, he holds the door of his car open for you, allowing you minimal space to edge by him into the passenger seat.
He breaks the silence with the same question floating around in your own head.
“Am I taking to you home or are you coming to my place to see my collection of books.”
“It’s late but…”
“But?”
“I would love to see them.”
“But you’re still thinking about what I said the other day, aren’t you?”
“Maybe.”
When you don’t say anything more or give him your address he drives in the opposite direction of your apartment. You contemplate your sanity the whole ride there but you’re too far gone to even want to tell him to turn around and bring you home.
His brownstone is gorgeous. Everything from the ornate edifice of the building to the classic tile in foyer exudes luxury and when you step inside the actual space you have to cover your mouth to stop any sound from escaping.
“I’m glad you like it doll,” he says from behind you, his chest brushing your back.
His lips meet the shell of your ear in a whisper. “I can give you a tour if you like or I can give you what you really want first.”
You turn to face him, his gravelly tone bringing several other things into focus. His cheeks are lightly flushed and his breathing has roughened. You sway closer and he runs his finger along your arm.
“The books…?” you question weakly.
“They’re not going anywhere,” he assures you as his fingertips trace your jaw.
“You don’t even have my phone number,” you continue. “We haven’t even been on a date yet!”
He starts to walk, pushing you slowly backward until you enter another room. Without taking his eyes off you he flicks a switch on the wall and the space is bathed in a soft glow, illuminating the ceiling high shelves of dark wood that line every wall. Every space is filled with books.
Your eyes wander for mere seconds before he grabs your chin and directs your gaze back to his.
“I think our bookshop encounters can be considered dates, don’t you?” he says softly.
Just before your back hits one of the shelves his large hand cradles your body, gently pressing you into the books. He leans closer, moving his hands to rest on either side of your head.
“Maybe…”
“Do you ever have an answer other than ‘maybe’?” he asks.
Your lips part to speak but he stops you with the brush of his mouth. “Don’t. Say. Maybe.”
Even though your last two meetings were charged with tension, this is the first time he’s really touching you and it sends shock waves through your entire body.
You breathe out a strangled ‘yes’ and arch into him, inviting more of his touch.
His mouth comes down on yours hard and hungry and the initial contact steals your breath. When you slide your hands over his chest and up to his shoulders, digging your nails into his skin, he groans and pushes you against the shelf.
You break contact with his mouth, gasping at the hardness pressing against your stomach.
“I’ve been like this since the moment I saw you,” he growls. “Do you know what that’s been like?”
He doesn’t give you a chance to answer as his mouth moves to your neck and sucks the sensitive spot underneath your ear, causing you to whimper his name.
Your head rolls to the side, begging for more and you let out a sound of frustration when he rocks his hips and keeps his mouth hovering along your skin.
“Is this what you want?” he murmurs with another grind of his hips.
Your fingers slide into his hair, raking through the soft strands as your breath catches on a gasp.
“Answer me, doll,” he demands.
“Yes. Yes Bucky. I want it.”
His hands leave your body and grip the edge of the shelf behind you. He dips his head, trailing kisses upward along your neck until he meets your earlobe, growling low.
“You’re going to spread these pretty legs for me doll and I’m going to bury my face between them.”
His tone warns you not to protest and with a strangled breath you do as you’re told, your head thumping back against the books when he slides his hand down your stomach.
“Eyes on me doll.”
You look down as he slips his hand inside your leggings, slowly peeling them, along with your panties down to your ankles.
He finds your swollen clit and circles it with teasing strokes, giving you one last hard look before his tongue flattens and he tastes you from top to bottom.
You’re already so close and when he pushes a finger inside you your eyes start to glaze over, your hips rocking rhythmically onto his hand and face.
When he pushes a second finger inside you it sends you over the edge, his tongue working you until your legs are shaking and you’re chanting his name.
“Fuck doll. You coming apart for me is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
You start to slump forward, your breathing still ragged and he runs a soft hand along your hip, holding you steady and biting gently into your skin with his fingers.
“I’m going to make you come over and over again,” he whispers as he stands and takes you in his arms, his lips caressing the shell of your ear. “With my fingers, my mouth, my cock.”
“Yes. Please,” you whimper.
He presses closer, his lips teasing along your jaw until your eyes meet. “But first we’re going to have a proper date.”
Your lips part with your objection and you’re ready to beg him for more but he presses a finger to your lips, smiling when you instantly quiet.
“If I get inside you now I’ll never be able to leave and I don’t have enough time tonight to worship you. I have business to deal with.”
 Your eyes drop to his mouth and your fingers climb up his chest.
“Ok,” you say, still breathless.
“You’re going to be my date for an auction event I have to attend tomorrow night…and then afterwards we’ll have the rest of the night. And the next morning…all day. You’ll be all mine.”
You nod, unable to find your voice again but squirm against him in desperation, your body still craving more.
“Sweet fucking hell, doll,” he hisses. “Don’t make me rush this.”
He grabs your waist so you stop moving, his eyes wandering over your face before he captures your lips in a kiss.
When he releases your mouth the set of his jaw is rigid and his fingers dig deeper into your skin.
“Tomorrow,” he murmurs. “Be ready by five.”
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You stare at yourself in the mirror, smoothing your hands over your dress for the tenth time. Before leaving Bucky’s apartment you had exchanged numbers and several more kisses then he walked you to your door, wasting no time reminding you of his promises for tonight.
Your pulse quickens as his words threaten to consume you and you wonder how you’ll ever make it through the next few hours without throwing yourself at him. His touch was like nothing else you’d experienced. Not one of his movements were wasted and his objective was clear. He was going to absolutely ruin you. And you were ready.
The light knock on your door startles you but you check the clock and see he’s right on time.
“You’re punctual,” you say as you open the door.
He looks amazing and have to bite your lip to stop your satisfied moan.
“And you’re fucking stunning,” he says as his eyes rake over every inch of you.
He continues staring and steps inside.
“Do you plan on looking at me like that all night?” you ask.
“Like what?” he replies as he reaches out for you.
“Like you need to devour me.”
“It’s all I want,” he growls, sliding his hand along the curve of your back to bring you closer.
“Do we really need to go to this auction?” you purr against his lips.
His fingers splay against your back and he brushes his nose to yours. “I do doll face, but if you need my hand between your legs first, all you have to do is ask me.”
Before you can form the words for a weak protest, his hand dips between your bodies and starts to lift the hem of your dress.
“Say it doll. I want to hear you say the words."
“Please Bucky,” you gasp. “Give me your fingers. I need your fingers.”
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 @randomfandompenguin @hiddles-rose @lizette50 @blackwidownat2814 @buckysdollforlife @littleseasiren @goldylions @kmc1989
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justauthoring · 7 months
Text
change in perspective.
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you never thought jamie tartt could be anything but a prick.
a/n: i have no explanation for this other than i just finished ted lasso (fashionably late as always) and this man makes me giggle like a little school girl :) (this is also not spellchecked! i'll do it later ;))
pairing: jamie tart x f!assistant coach!reader
“Does someone want to explain to me just what exactly Jamie Tartt is doing out on the field?”
All three coaches turn to you at the sound of your voice, but it’s Ted’s eyes that light up the second he registers your presence. A smile curls onto his lips as he turns to face you, posture nonchalant with his hands shoved into his pockets. “Ah! Well, if it isn’t my favourite assistant coach, Y/N! I was worried something had happened.”
Blinking back at Ted, you simply cross your arms over your chest. “What is Jamie doing out on the field?”
Ted lets out a laugh but it comes across more as a grimace as he rubs the back of his neck, turning his head to glance at Nate and then Beard. 
It’s Beard who explains. 
“Ted invited him back to the team.”
The water bottle you’d been holding in your hands promptly falls to the ground with a thud as your lips part, mouth left wide open, staring blank faced at Ted who continues to laugh somewhat uncomfortably.
“What?”
Beard raises his hands as if to gesture that he is an innocent party in your accusation all whilst you shift your shocked expression to a glare at Ted.
“Well, you know… I–I just thought that, well… he’s a good player, yeah?”
Shaking your head, you huff; “regrettably so.” Because even you weren’t bitter enough to not admit that Jamie was a great football player. Fantastic really. But–But he was an absolute prick who you’d thought you’d never have to work with ever again.
“And this team needs a little something to spice us up, yeah?” Ted, in Ted style, does a little dance (that’s meant to make you laugh) to add to the effect of his words.
“No,” you say blankly, before Ted raises a brow at you. Sighing, your shoulders fall. “Yeah.”
Offering you a smile, Ted rests his hand on your shoulder, giving it a light squeeze. “Give him a chance, okay?” He asks, his eyes pleading as he nods down at you. “I think he really means to make up for it all.”
You seriously doubt that. But, you don’t voice that opinion.
“Fine,” you surrender, dropping your hands to your side. “But I’m allowed to laugh at him when this team kicks his arse. Which they will because he deserved it.”
Ted snorts at that, “don’t worry, Nate’s already got you beat on that front.”
Your eyes shift to said man, and he’s sending you a wide grin and a thumbs up in a way that makes you chuckle despite how truly unhappy you were with Jamie only a few feet away from you, on your team.
-
The only thing that had made practice somewhat bearable was seeing Jamie repeatedly knocked on his ass.
And then mocked by the rest of the team.
Truly, it brought a smile to your face.
You’re still laughing to yourself about it as you finish packing up your stuff in the office you shared with Nate. Him, Ted, Beard and pretty much most of the team were already gone or on their way out the door, but you usually elected to stay a little longer than everyone else trying to come up with new gaming strategies, plays and honestly, team bonding exercises since you found it incredibly important that the team genuinely care for one another if they were going to play on a team together.
You’re just sliding your laptop into your bag when a knock pulls you from your musings.
“Oh, Sam, just give me–”
Except, it isn’t Sam when you finally glance up. It’s Jamie.
You’re leaping to your feet before you can stop yourself, a surge of panic running through your body as your wide eyes meet his. He’s blinking back at you, as if as shocked by your reaction as you were, and before you know it you’re glancing around, half expecting Ted or Beard to be there because why else would Jamie be here?
But neither of them are there, of course, they’d left twenty minutes ago.
“Coach Lasso and Beard have already left,” you explain before he can say anything. “You’re gonna have to wait until tomorrow to talk to–”
Shaking his head, Jamie takes a step towards you. “I wasn’ lookin’ for them. I, uh… was lookin’ for you actually.”
You blink. Once, twice, before your brows furrow. “What?”
He steps towards you again, fully stepping into your office as he scratches at his face absentmindedly, looking just as uncomfortable as you felt. He glances around for a moment before his gaze focuses back on you, and the serious expression on his face is one you’re not used to or know how to react to so you continue to stare blankly at him.
“I wanted to, em, apologize, I guess? Actually, no, not I guess. I am sorry. And I want to apologize for how I treated ya in the past. You know, for all the shitty things I said and did.”
You must be dreaming.
Surely, you’re dreaming.
There’s no way that the Jamie Tartt, famed football star and resident asshole, is apologizing to you. Some random female assistant coach on a team he’d once laughed at for existing? Yeah. Not possible.
But… it’s either that or he’s taking the piss out of you.
Whatever it is, the shock fades in seconds and is quickly replaced by an indescribable amount of anger. 
Because, honestly? Screw him. Screw him for thinking he could walk in here, say sorry and it’d all be okay. After all that he did.
“You’re sorry?” You ask, pointing at him.
He nods, slowly. 
“That’s funny,” is what you end up saying, letting out a snort as he blinks at you in surprise. “You sure didn’t seem sorry all those times you laughed at me when I tried to coach you. What was it you used to say?” You quirk a brow at him as his face falls, the hopeful glint that you’d accept his apology fading from his eyes as you laugh at him. “Oh, that’s right! That I wasn’t meant to be a coach because I’m a woman and rather, I should just look pretty and help make you look good. And if it wasn’t you belittling me for my job, it was you trying to get in my pants and then laughing about it as if that’s some sort of joke.”
You finish your rant with a huff, shoulders rising and falling heavily as Jamie continues to stare back at you.
You hadn’t really realized how much his comments had truly hurt until that moment. Or, rather, you’d pushed them down so far to the back of your mind that it had been bubbling up until this very moment where he tries to apologize offhandedly like that was going to somehow make things better.
“I may have only known you for a little bit before you left us for Manchester, Jamie,” you add, voice considerably calmer as you frown at him. “But you sure left an impression. And one little apology is not gonna make up for the amount of times I went home crying and feeling worthless, because of you.”
Jamie doesn’t say anything. His lips part like he means to you, but he ends up just gaping at you like a goldfish, looking rather stupid, before there’s a light knock on the door and you’re pulled from your thoughts only to find Sam poking his head into the office. He looks concerned, eyeing Jamie out of the corner of his eye with a certain edge, before turning to you.
Biting your lip, you blink, hating the way your vision blurs and quickly you wipe at your face before any tears can fall.
You refused to cry in front of Jamie.
“Just a second, Sam,” you call, offering him a small, somewhat forced smile. You turn to your desk, grabbing your bag and doing a quick survey to make sure you hadn’t forgotten anything before promptly pushing your way past Jamie and slipping past Sam. He sets a hand on your back to guide you forward, blocking you from Jamie’s view and you don’t see it, but just before Sam turns to walk away himself, he’s sending Jamie a rather nasty glare.
The message is clear; leave her alone.
-
The next morning there’s a vase of flowers sitting on your desk.
Nate is eyeing them when you walk in, before he blinks at the sight of you and quickly turns away as if afraid you caught him staring. You just blink at him, before looking at the flowers once more.
Poking your head out to the main office, you gesture over your shoulder; “where’d the flowers come from?”
Beard raises his hands in a silent gesture that they’re not from him, before your gaze falls to Ted.
“Don’t look at me,” he shrugs. “You’d know if I got you flowers,” he winks with a light chuckle and rolling your eyes as you make your way to your desk. There’s a card in front of the vase and as you take a seat, you take the card, flipping it open.
All that’s written on it is the name of the flowers; Lily of the Valley.
Frowning, you let your eyes wander across the white flowers, leaning forward to smell them and letting your eyes fall shut at the sweet scent. 
Only thing is, who sent them?
Leaning back on your chair, you peek into the locker room, trying to see who of the players is there. There’s not too many. There’s Sam, but you walked in with him so you know it’s not him, also he most likely would’ve just given them to you if he was going to get you a bouquet of flowers. Isaac’s there, but you doubt he’d give them to you. Richard and Dani are there, but they're much too forward to try and secretly give you flowers.
And then your eyes fall on Jamie. He’s already looking at you, but he’s quick to glance away the second your eyes fall on him, his cheeks turning a bit red.
Your brows furrow.
It couldn’t–
“Apparently, Lily of the Valley symbolizes apology. Specifically when one doesn’t know how to apologize.” Nate explains, reading off of his phone, the card from your desk in his other hand, before he glances at you with a curious smile. “I wonder who wanted to apologize to you?”
You glance at Nate, before the flowers, before peeking back at Jamie who’s tying the laces of his boots, pointedly not glancing up.
Moving back towards your desk, you stare at the flowers a moment longer.
What the actual hell.
-
“Oh, just–”
Before you can properly register the voice, a blur of blue is suddenly in front of you, opening the door you’d been about to open yourself before your hand can even reach for the handle.
Slowly your eyes flicker upwards to fall on Jamie as he stands beside you, holding the door wide open, a rather proud smile plastered onto his face.
“There ya go,” he offers, head tilting towards the door. “Ladies first.”
Quirking a brow, you nod at Jamie slowly, stepping through the door while you try to fight the smile that threatens to curl onto your lips.
“Smooth, Tartt,” you offer over your shoulder.
He grins back at you, nodding at you.
You can’t help the laugh, however, when instead of stepping through the door like you expected (assuming he’d only done it cause he needed something from here in the first place), he lets the door shut with a goofy wave, leaving you alone in the room.
Pausing, you shake your head.
That was new.
-
“And you, Coach?”
It takes you half a second to realize Jamie is talking to you and you only really realize it because Ted, Beard and Nate are all looking at you, waiting.
Blinking, you swallow thickly, eyes falling back on the team only to see they’re all staring at you as well, also waiting. Your eyes fall on Jamie and he’s smiling at you, happy and all teeth as he rocks on his feet, patiently waiting for you to say anything you might or might not have to say.
It’s not like the rest of the team hadn’t ever asked you for your opinion or if you had any pointers. And of course Ted made sure to consistently ask for your suggestions, wanting to make sure you felt your voice was heard and included.
As the only female coach for a male’s football team, you’d managed to find yourself an incredible group of boys who listened to you despite your gender and actively made sure to try out anything you suggested.
But never had you ever had all their attention like you do in that moment. All of them just standing there, solely focused on you.
And that was because of Jamie.
Biting your lip, you shuffle on your feet. “Oh, well… I–”
But your voice is shaky and you’re not sure how to say what you want, but as your eyes flicker back over to Jamie he’s still grinning at you, smile never wavering and he’s sending you a thumbs up.
As if to say; you got this.
And then the words just seem to pour from your lips after that.
-
The addition of Roy Kent to the line up of coaches is both positive and negative.
And really, it isn’t negative for anyone but yourself. Not that having Roy on the team was negative, just, well… It was already hard enough being the only women assistant coach with two other men, but now you were competing with three men and Roy was nothing if not an intimidating and commandeering addition to the team.
His desk had been squished in between yours and Nate’s and while the man was lovely, if not a little aggressive, by the end of his first day you found yourself drained and feeling like a fool. Roy wasn’t just another man, but he was a previous football star himself; he had the on field experience to back up his suggestions and he knew what he was talking about so that when he did say something, no one really batted an eye to his suggestions.
Or, at least, questioned them.
Worst part was you liked Roy. Sure he swore a lot, and sometimes he’d grunt instead of replying to you but before he’d had to leave the team, he’d always listened to your suggestions with an open mind and never made you or the suggestions feel less just because it was a woman saying them. He was an absolute sweetheart underneath all of the gruff, and you knew him outside of work quite well as well because he was dating Keeley.
So, with the jealousy that you couldn’t help but have, you also felt extremely guilty. 
“Are… Are you alrigh’?”
Gasping, you sit up at the voice, panicked eyes glancing around until you settle on Jamie.
“Jesus, Tartt,” you breathe, pressing a hand to your chest as you shake your head. “You scared the shit out of me.”
“Sorry,” he offers with a light laugh. “I didn’ mean to.”
“It’s fine,” you sigh, letting yourself relax once more as you slump against the wall behind you, pulling your knees closer to yourself. “I just thought I was alone. Didn’t think anyone would come wandering in here.”
Jamie steps into the room at that, letting the door shut behind him as he nods. “Saw you come in ‘ere,” he explains, taking a seat across from you. “Wanted to make sure you were alrigh’”
Shaking your head, you brush him off; “I'm fine.”
“You, um… you sure?”
Turning to Jamie, he’s staring back at you in a way that tells you he doesn’t believe you. He’s got a concerned look in his eyes and he’s fidgeting with his fingers, his knee rocking nervously as he tries to find the words to say.
Sighing, you shake your head; “it’s stupid.”
“Not when it comes to ya.”
Blinking, you turn to Jamie, lips parted in surprise. Except, he doesn’t seem shocked by what he said or embarrassed. He continues to stare back at you with that concerned look in his gaze, patiently waiting for you to explain what’s going on.
“It’s just… It’s hard,” you start, struggling to find the words. How do you explain to him, not only a man but the same man that used to belittle you for the exact same thing you’re feeling self conscious about, that you feel like you’re being tested in your own job everyday just because you’re a woman? You weren’t sure he’d understand. And honestly, although you’ve seen the changes in him and regrettably started to believe them, you weren’t positive he wouldn’t just laugh at you for it anyways.
And yet, you continue to speak.
“Being what I am at my job,” you add, eyeing him carefully.
Jamie frowns. “Being a woman?”
Inhaling sharply, you nod; “yeah. I know Ted and the rest of the guys would never belittle me or make me feel less because I am, but… It’s just hard being the only woman coach for a team of men. Even if you guys don’t mean to, and I know you don’t, you all naturally gravitate towards Ted and the guys more than you do me.”
Lips parting, Jamie stares back at you.
Avoiding his gaze, you glance down at your lap. “Makes me doubt myself sometimes.”
“Oh.”
Nodding, you pull at a thread on your pants. “Yeah. Oh.”
Silence follows and you feel ten times more uncomfortable as the seconds pass. You can still feel Jamie’s gaze on you, watching, waiting, maybe trying to find something to say, and it’s making you feel more and more embarrassed as time goes. 
Shaking your head, you suddenly move to a stand.
“Anyways, it’s late so you should–”
“I think yer an amazing coach.”
Lips left parted, you turn, only to find Jamie suddenly standing in front of you.
“You make great strategy plays, you are undeniably smart about the terminology and nobody cares about the wellbeing of the team more than you,” he continues, his gaze never once faltering. “You cheer us on and never ever make us feel like we’re doing something wrong or stupid for askin’ for help. I know it feels like we listen to the guys more, but every single one of us leans on your advice heavily and we’d be lost without yer support and guidance.”
Eyes widening, you don’t realize it until you blink that you’re crying.
Your hand falls to your cheek, feeling wetness.
“Shit,” Jamie curses and your eyes fall back on him. “I didn’t mean to make ya cry, I just–”
Your arms wound around him before he can finish, pulling him flush against you as you press your head into the crook of his neck. Jamie freezes at the touch, body tensing but just for a second before he eases, his own arms coming around to wrap around you in return.
“Thank you,” you whisper to him, “I… Thank you so much.”
“O-Of course,” he murmurs, voice low and you can feel his chest rumble against your cheek. “I just… thought ya should know.”
Biting your lip, you pull back at that, quickly wiping the tears off your cheeks as you step away from him. Jamie lets you go with ease, both of your cheeks red, yours burning when you realize you’d not only just flung yourself at him but you’d gotten his shirt wet with your tears.
“I.. I’m sorry,” you whisper, gesturing to his chest. “I didn’t mean to cry on you.”
Jamie shrugs; “no worries, love.”
Meeting his eyes, the two of you stare at each other for a moment, before you’re quickly stepping past him. “Anyways, I should… I should go.”
“Oh. Oh, yeah. Me… Me too.”
Reaching for the door, you glance back at him; “I’ll see you tomorrow?”
Nodding, Jamie grins down at you; “see you tomorrow.”
-
“We’ve got a problem.”
Both Keeley and Rebecca turn to you at your words, whatever they’d been saying promptly getting cut off the second they see the panic on your face.
Rushing you inside, they settle on either side of you on Rebecca’s couch in her office, Keeley’s arm wrapped around your waist and Rebecca offering you a cup of tea as they turn to you with concerned eyes.
“Okay, lay it out,” Rebecca says, “what’s wrong and who do I have to fire?”
Letting out a light laugh, you shake your head. “You don’t have to fire anyone.”
“Good,” she nods, “because I didn’t want to fire anyone.”
Rolling your eyes teasingly, you take a sip of your tea before reaching forward to set it on the table.
“Okay, then, babes,” Keeley speaks up, frowning at you, “then what’s the matter? You came in here looking like something horrible’s happened.”
Letting out a groan, you press your hands to your face; “that’s because something horrible has happened.”
“What?” Keeley presses, squeezing your arm.
Taking a deep breath, you hesitate a moment, eyeing the both of them, before you whisper in shame; “I think I fancy Jamie.”
There’s a beat of silence, before;
“Like Tartt?” Keeley asks, eyes widening in absolute surprise. “Jamie Tartt? Our Jamie Tartt?”
“Like on my team Richmond, Jamie Tartt?” Rebecca adds, pointing at herself before gesturing to her office.
Cheeks burning, you hide your face in your hands again. “Yes.”
Keeley and Rebecca eye each other for a moment, before Rebecca’s pulling your hands away from your face.
“Y/N.”
You just shake your head, trying to grab a pillow to further hide yourself.
“Babes, stop,” Keeley laughs lightly. “Explain to us why you fancy Jamie.”
“Yeah,” Rebecca encourages. “It’s alright.”
Hands falling to your lap with a huff, you frown. “It’s all his fault,” you whine. “Because he’s trying to be better now and I can’t handle that. Before, you know, when he was a prick, that’s just it! He was a prick. And I’m sorry Keeley for saying this but I always found him a little attractive.”
Snorting, Keeley shakes his head; “babes, why do you think I dated him?”
Biting your lip, you sigh. “But he was awful, right?” She nods and Rebecca snorts, clearly feeling that’s an understatement. “And when he came back, I was so mad. Mad because he was so mean and laughed at me and belittled me for being a woman, and not to mention he was terrible to the whole team. Like when he used to bully Nate or hog the ball and never give Sam a chance to show his skill.”
They both nod to your words.
“So I was upset. Upset because he was back and because Ted didn’t tell me or ask me how I felt. And I said to myself that this whole apology thing was just an act and he’d go right back to being his old self in a few days. I was proud of myself too because when he tried to apologize, I didn’t let him.” Keeley squeezes your arm at that and Rebecca smiles proudly. “But then the next day I came in and he bought my flowers!”
Their eyes widen.
“He did?”
“Yeah,” you nod at Keeley. “A big bouquet of Lily of the Valley and you know what Lily of the Valley symbolizes?”
Keeley shakes her head and Rebecca sighs, shoulders falling. “Apology,” she explains for you. “You give them to someone you hurt and don’t know how to apologize to.”
Keeley’s lips part in disbelief; “I never got fucking Lily of the Valley’s.”
Sinking into the couch, you cry out; “exactly! And then he starts opening doors for me and helping me pack things up… he’s listening to me in practice when he never used to, deliberately asking for my opinion after practice after the rest of the coaches have said their pieces. He tells the rest of the team to shut up if he feels they’re not listening to me and he asks me for pointers alone so he can get better. And! God! I was upset and he made this whole big speech about how amazing a coach I am and how the team appreciates me and shit and then I hugged him and cried on him and he didn’t laugh at me or make me feel like shit. He… he was actually really fucking sweet.”
The second you’re done ranting, Keeley and Rebecca glance at each other, before coming to the same conclusion.
“Well,” Keeley says hesitantly. “It definitely sounds like you fancy him.”
Pulling at your hair, you let out a cry. 
“No, no,” Rebecca shakes her hand, pulling your hands away from your face and holding them safely in her own. “It’s fine, love. Jamie has really turned himself around.”
“He has,” Keeley is quick to agree. “I mean, he never did any of that stuff for me and we were already in a relationship.”
“But it isn’t fine,” you argue, shaking your head. “Because he’s Jamie Tartt, and he’s fucking fit and now he’s nice too… and he’s a star football player and I’m just Y/N Y/L/N, some random assistant female coach on a team of male football players. No one knows me and I’m not special and I’m not a model or a celebrity or any of the usual types he goes for.”
“That is absolutely not true,” Rebecca says instantly, face appalled as if she can’t believe you’ve just said what you have.
“You are Y/N fucking Y/L/N.” Keeley adds, moving to grip your cheeks tightly between her hands. “The first and only female assistant coach of Richmond who has come up with more strategy plays that have helped us win than anyone else. Not to mention, you are proper fit. You are an absolutely fucking gorgeous and successful woman that Jamie would be incredibly lucky to have.”
Lips parting, you blink. Keeley and Rebecca are both looking at you in a way that leaves no room for arguments and feeling your eyes water, you pout; “you mean that?”
“Of course I fucking mean that.”
“Y/N,” Rebecca calls, squeezing your hands tightly. “I am so proud of you and the woman that you are and incredibly lucky to have you as a coach for my team. I know that, Keeley knows that, the team knows that and it looks like Jamie is aware of that more than anyone else. I know it’s hard to leave yourself vulnerable like this, but at least give him a shot.”
Biting your lip, you meet her eyes, finding the reassurance in them you needed before you glance over at Keeley who is grinning widely, nodding.
“Okay,” you whisper. “Okay.”
-
You’d believed what Rebecca and Keeley said.
Of course you did because you know they’d never lie to you.
And you’d promised them you’d give Jamie a chance before simply believing there’s no way he’d like you. But promising and doing was a lot different, and it’s hard to find the chance to say anything to him over the next few days.
The whole team is anxious because of the game against Manchester City coming up, especially since the last time they’d played them, it was the match that had gotten them regulated. Adding even more to that, Jamie had been on the Manchester team when that had happened and even though you know he’d made great strides towards making up with the team since coming back to Richmond, he was just anxious as the rest of them.
For a multitude of reasons you didn’t understand.
So, there wasn’t a chance to say anything.
And there certainly wasn’t one now that they’d lost. You’d briefly wondered to yourself that if they won, maybe you could run to Jamie and just confess your feelings then, thick in the adrenaline of it all. Like they did in the movies. All sweet and romantic.
Only, Richmond hadn’t won and you certainly weren’t going to now.
Especially when you were just as disappointed as the rest of them.
You’re speaking with Ted and Roy in the locker room when Jamie’s father comes in, and any conversation you’d been having falls silent the second he does.
You watch in stunned silence as Jamie’s father makes an embarrassment of himself, laughing and joking as he makes fun of the team's loss before zeroing in on Jamie himself. He says the cruelest things, and everything clicks in that moment why Jamie was the way that he was before he’d left Richmond.
And when Jamie punches his father straight across the face, you jump and your hands fall to your lips but you’re not shocked and you don’t think Jamie is wrong either.
No one says anything and no one does anything as Beard drag’s Jamie’s father out of the locker room and Jamie stands there, still standing in a defensive position. You want to do something, you want to say something, but you don’t think it’s your place. And you don’t know if Jamie would even feel all that much comfort with having you do anything.
Roy steps past you in the next second, taking Jamie into his arms and he loses it then, his sobs echoing throughout the otherwise silent room.
Ted runs past you at one point, but you don’t notice, eyes stuck on that of Jamie and Roy.
Then, Roy’s pulling away, but Jamie’s still got tears in his eyes, pressing his hand to his eyes as he tries to hide away. Suddenly, Roy’s eyes are on you, and he’s smiling in a knowing way, before promptly kicking everyone else out of the room. Your eyes widen as he does, body tensing in panic as Roy nods at you just before shutting the door behind him, leaving just you and Jamie in the room alone.
You can hear him sniffling to himself, a small sob breaking past his lips as you stand there, feeling out of place and like you’re stepping past his boundaries. So, slowly, you step towards him. “I can, uh, leave too if you’d like some–”
“No,” is all Jamie says before he’s pulling you into a hug, arms wrapping around you tightly as he presses his face into the crook of your neck. You freeze at the action at first, unsure what to do or say, before slowly your body eases, and your arms are raising, hands falling to his back as you squeeze him tightly.
He clutches onto you, sobbing into your neck, and you let him wordlessly, rubbing his back in smooth, slow patterns in a way you hope is comforting.
And the two of you stay like that for a while.
-
Your relationship from then on changes.
More than it already had.
You find yourself willingly hanging out with him when you would’ve avoided it otherwise before. Jamie always seems to be there, lending a helping hand or letting you talk his ear off about something or another.
The two of you never really spoke about what had happened in that locker room but you didn’t need to. It went without saying. You understood Jamie in a way that you hadn’t before, and although it didn’t excuse it, it made sense why he’d been the way had been before and it showed him trying to be better meant a lot more than it had before.
So, the season ends, and you watch the changes Jamie’s doing with a smile and a completely different attitude. When he gives Dani the shot, or when he joins in on team chants before matches. He’s still arrogant and cocky, but it’s in a more loveable way than it had been before, and now when he comes in every morning wearing his stupid ICON hat and dumb sunglasses, you can barely hide the smile that curls onto your lips.
Or the way that despite him wearing such stupid things, you think he looks ridiculously hot.
The season ends and then the new one starts up with one less coach after Nate had left only to join West Ham. It had certainly been a betrayal and you’d be lying if you said it hadn’t hurt. You’d always felt like Nate had understood you in a way maybe some of the others didn’t and the two of you had shared that office alone for so long that you couldn’t help the way you’d cried when you’d realized what he’d done.
Jamie holds you through it. 
A soft, gentle and comforting presence that never makes you feel silly for feeling so hurt and betrayed and for that, you’re eternally grateful.
Suddenly, Jamie is someone you can’t live without. You look forward to every morning you see him walk into the locker room, and you find yourself texting him at night, unable to stop the giddy feeling that floods you every time you hear your phone ding and see it’s him calling or texting you.
Keeley and Rebecca tease you all whilst constantly trying to get you to confess. You always say that you will, but you never do.
You’re mad for him, that you know but you don’t know if he’s mad for you and you don’t want to ruin the relationship the two of you have built just because of your stupid feelings. It was nice having him as a friend, and although every time you saw him you just wanted to kiss him, you didn’t want to lose that friendship either.
So you never say anything.
-
“So, I would suggest just–”
“Y/N–?”
Lips left parted at the sound of Sam, you turn to him as he pokes his head into the office. He freezes when he sees Jamie standing behind you, the two of you going over one of his plays, your hand left held with the whiteboard marker and he winces. “I’m so sorry. I did not mean to interrupt you two.”
Jamie is waving his hand in reassurance as you smile at Sam, letting your hand fall; “it’s fine, Sam. What’s up?”
“I just wanted to let you know that I won’t be able to drive you home tonight,” he explains, chancing a quick glance at Jamie before focusing back on you. “I have to run by the restaurant before heading home and I’m not sure how long it will take.”
“Oh,” you blink, shaking your head. “It’s fine, Sam. I can walk home tonight. It’s no problem.” Then, cheekily, you can’t help but add; “as long as when you finally do let me see your restaurant, everything is on the house.”
Laughing, Sam shakes his head; “it already was. And for you,” he points at you with a grin, “it’ll always be.”
Smilingly, you nod, waving him goodbye as he does the same, slipping out of the office. You laugh quietly to yourself as he does, before turning to find Jamie’s eyes on you, and you blink; “sorry,” you offer bashfully. “Where were we–”
“I didn’t know Sam drove you home?”
Pausing, you shift back to face Jamie. “Oh, yeah. He saw that I was walking home one night, offered me a drive and it’s been like that since.”
Jamie nods, slowly. “You two are close.”
“Um, yeah?” You agree with a shrug. “Sam is easy to talk to, I guess. Super friendly and kind.”
“Hm,” Jamie hums lightly. “He does look like he’d make a good boyfriend.”
It takes you half a second to register what Jamie’s said both because you feel that’s a weird observation for Jamie to make and also because when in that conversation did you say he was your boyfriend?
“We’re not dating,” you explain, shaking your head as you laugh. “We’re just friends.”
Jamie’s eyes widen, cheeks warming in faint embarrassment but… is that a hint of relief you see? Probably not, you’re just psyching yourself out.
“Oh.”
Nodding, you bite your lip; “yeah.”
“Cool,” Jamie hums and you raise a brow at him, before turning back to the whiteboard.
“Did you wanna…?”
Jamie is quick to agree, shifting on his feet to put his focus back on what you were saying before Sam had stepped in. But then, just as your lips part to continue, Jamie is interrupting you;
“I could drive you home.”
He says it so nonchalantly you think you imagine him saying it at first.
You glance at him over your shoulder, and he turns to you.
“If you’d like.”
“Um,” and you hate the way your voice shakes or the nerves that rattle your entire being. “Sure… Sure, that’d… that’d be great. If you don’t mind?”
“Not at all,” he assures with a grin. “Why would I mind having a pretty girl in me car?”
Cheeks burning you quickly glance back ahead of yourself to not let him see how much that simple comment made your heart flutter and your insides feel like jelly. Inhaling sharply, it’s hard to fight the smile from curling onto your lips as you move to continue saying what you’d been trying to say before.
You’re so focused that you don’t see Jamie watching you, a grin curling onto his own lips when he sees how flustered you are.
-
“Pretty coach.”
Halting in your step, you glance up, only to have to crane your head upwards when you find Zava, the star player Rebecca had managed to score, staring down at you. He’s tall, very tall, and you’re not exactly sure why he’s here, in the middle of the hall, or why he’s talking to you.
“Zava,” you greet nervously, offering a small smile.
He’s stepping towards you, effectively closing the distance between you as your eyes widen, freezing when he reaches forward to take your hand in his own. Before you know it, he’s pressing his lips against the top of your hand, a gentle, swift kiss as he glances at you through his lashes, smirking.
“I look forward to working under you as my coach,” he explains, accent thick as he pulls his lips away. It doesn’t escape your notice that he doesn’t let go of your hand, though.
“Oh, um, me–me too. But you’ll mainly be working under Coach Lasso since he’s the head–...”
Your words trail when you realize he’s not really listening. He’s just… staring. Directly at you.
Swallowing thickly, with your free hand, you touch your face; “is there something on my–”
“Oh no, no,” he laughs gently, squeezing your hand. “You just have the most beautiful eyes.”
Feeling yourself warm, you meet his eyes in surprise before glancing down at your feet, “oh, um, thank–”
“Oi.”
The new voice is sharp and your head is spinning over your shoulder only to see Jamie promptly making his way over to you. You’re surprised by how angry he looks, but his attention isn’t focused on you and rather Zava as he quickly makes his way over, pulling your hand out of Zava’s and gently pushing you behind him as he blocks you from sight from Zava. You flush when you realize Jamie’s still holding onto your hand, before slowly peeking over his shoulder.
“Tartt,” Zava grins, “it’s wonderful to see you.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Jamie huffs. “Just keep your hands to yourself, okay?”
Raising his hands in surrender, Zava laughs, stepping back as he moves to walk away. His eyes catch yours and he winks at you before turning to walk off.
“Prick.” Jamie hisses under his breath.
You pause at that, turning to him only to see his eyes set in a glare, watching Zava disappear down the hall before you let out a giggle. Jamie’s eyes fall on you the second you do, gaze softening when he sees you giggling.
“What?”
“Nothing,” you smile, biting your lip as you glance up at him. “Just funny. You're calling him a prick.”
Jamie’s eyes widen in mock hurt; “he is!”
“Sure,” you shrug. “And so were you.”
“But not anymore,” he teases, rolling his eyes at you.
“True,” you agree, shocking him by how easily you do. You just continue to smile at him, “definitely not anymore.”
Jamie stares down at you, eyes never leaving your face. “He’s right about one thing, though.”
Quirking a brow, you tilt your head; “yeah? And what’s that?”
“You do have the most beautiful eyes.”
That was the last thing you expected.
Lips parting, you’re burning red as you promptly slap Jamie in the arm.
“Ow!” He hisses, pulling away as his hand (regrettably) leaves yours. “What was that for?”
You just stare back at him, pouting, embarrassed, hoping he can’t hear how fast your heart is beating.
Or notice that the way he said it meant way more than it did coming from Zava.
“Prick.”
Jamie just blinks, pouting; “what did I do?”
-
You let out a laugh as Jamie comes running up on the bus cheering about seeing Windmills, shaking your head with a grin as the rest of the guys cheer him on.
He walks down the aisle, high fiving a few of the guys until his eyes settle on you. Leaning your head against the seat, you grin cheekily up at him. “Did you have a fun night?” You ask with a head tilt, biting the inside of your cheek.
Smiling down at you, Jaime nods; “yeah, you?”
“Perfect,” you assure. “Spent a quiet night in my room.”
“The boys didn’t keep ya company?” He frowns, and he looks like he’s about to say something before you quickly reach forward, grabbing his wrist.
“That was team bonding stuff, silly,” you roll your eyes. “Besides, I had the most relaxing bath. It was fine.”
He glances down at you, not saying anything, but you feel your chest tighten when you see the way his eyes glance across your entire figure at the word bath.
Ignoring the butterflies, you smile; “saved you a seat, see?” You gesture to the empty window seat next to you, and Jamie laughs.
“You want the window seat?”
“Yup,” you grin, shuffling over to the other side as Jamie takes your old spot. You settle down next to him, arm brushing against his as he grins over at you.
“You got lots of training done last night?”
Jamie nods, “yup. Taugh’ Roy how to ride a bike.”
Brows furrowing, you briefly wonder how that happened in the midst of training but you let it go all the same, shrugging as you laugh. “But you made sure to get some rest, yes?” You add, turning to him with a quirked brow. “Because you remember what I said about training? If you push yourself too hard, you’re not going–”
“–to help anyone,” he finishes for you with a chuckle. “Yes, I remember.”
“Good,” you nod, squeezing his arm. 
“And you?”
Blinking, you turn to him.
“Did you get some rest last night?”
You nod, touched by his concern. “Yeah,” you assure, “like I said, spent the night in my room, resting.”
“Good,” he repeats your words from earlier and you turn your head away to the window when you feel yourself smiling.
Yet, despite that, an hour later, you’ve passed out on Jamie’s very own shoulder, softly snoring away.
Jamie is careful not to move, not wanting to wake you up, but when Dani turns to take a photo excitedly, he doesn’t stop him.
“Hey,” he whispers to Dani, “send that to me, okay?”
-
“You need to talk to Jamie.”
Raising a brow, you glance up at Roy.
“...I do?”
“He’s a mess,” is all Roy says.
“Okay…?”
“And you need to talk to him.”
Biting your lip, you hum; “because?”
Huffing, Roy rolls his eyes like you’re the one being annoying. “Because you’re the only one he’ll listen to, so you need to talk to him and get him out of whatever funk he’s in.”
“Okay,” you nod, “I’ll talk to him.”
-
You don’t get the chance to talk to him until you’ve arrived at the hotel the night before the game and even then it’s not really you talking to him.
The movie you’d all watched together is over and Ted had set a curfew but Jamie is taking your hand in his, throwing his hood up and leading you out of the hotel without another word. You glance over your shoulder to see Roy glancing at you in confusion, but you just shrug your shoulders and then Keeley is sending you two thumbs up with a bright grin and before you know it, you both are out the hotel and making your way across the street.
You let him lead, expecting him to say something, but he never really does. He’s eerily silent the entire walk, and it isn't until twenty minutes have passed that you finally tug on his grip and pull him to a stop. He glances back at you in surprise but you’re just shaking your head up at him, confused.
“If this is your way of getting me alone to murder me, I’m going to be really upset.”
He blinks at your words, confused at first, before he shakes his head. “No, no… of course not. I… I want you to meet someone.”
“Oh,” you mumble, feeling yourself ease as you meet his gaze. He’s staring back at you, obviously waiting for you to agree and with a gentle smile, you nod.
“Okay.”
It’s his mom.
He wanted you to meet his mom. 
You’re confused, extremely so, as Jamie leads you up the steps to a house, knocks and some older gentleman opens the door. He recognizes Jamie and invites the both of you in, and you’re left standing in the entrance way, baffled as you hug your coat closer to yourself, until a woman comes running down the stairs, screaming Jamie’s name and then suddenly she’s in his arms and he’s spinning her and calling her ‘mommy’ and it all clicks.
You can't help the smile that curls onto your lips at the sight, feeling like you’re being allowed to see a side of Jamie others rarely were.
And when Jamie introduces you to his mom, the smile turns into shock when she says; “you’re the one Jamie’s told me so much about!” And before you even have time to register those words or see Jamie glancing at you, she’s wrapping you up in her arms and hugging you so tightly as she gushes about how much she’s wanted to meet you.
You spend the night being welcomed by his mother and her boyfriend, before you leave Jamie to have his much needed conversation with his mom. Simon shows you around the house, before leaving you to glance around Jamie’s childhood bedroom yourself. You all but squeal at his Roy Kent poster, before rolling your eyes at Keeley’s, but happily glance round the rest of the room. You look at all his trophies and childhood photos, little drawings he’d done or books he’d read.
Before you know it, Jamie’s poking his head into the room and calling for you.
“Oh, Jamie,” you smile, “are you all done catching up with your mom?”
He nods, “yeah, you wanna get out of here? Go back to the hotel?”
“Sure,” you agree with ease, stepping toward him. He sets his hand against your back, leading you back towards the door where you say your final goodbyes. You thank Simon for the tour and give Georgie a huge hug, expressing how happy you were to meet her before she makes you promise you’ll come by and visit again.
You’re not quite sure how to reply to that, but it’s okay because Jamie does it for you, promising the two of you will stop by for an actual dinner soon.
And then, it’s just the two of you, making your way back to the hotel.
“So,” you call out, glancing at him from the corner of your eye. “You told your mum about me?”
Jamie rolls his eyes at that, huffing. “Of course I did. Why wouldn’t I?”
That certainly isn’t the response you were expecting, so, with warm cheeks, you glance at your feet.
“Got it all sorted now?”
Jamie hums, “yup. Sorry if I worried ya.”
You shake your head. “Think you had Roy in more of a panic, if I’m being honest. Poor man couldn’t breathe, he was so worried.”
Jamie snorts at that, lightly nudging you with his arm. “So, ya weren’ worried at all?”
Turning your head, your smile fades as you meet his gaze. “No, I was. I just didn’t want to overstep.”
“You could never overstep,” Jamie assures, “I should’ve been open about how I was feelin’. Just needed to sort it out for meself.”
Smiling softly to yourself, you hug your hands behind your back. “Well, I’m glad you figured it all out, Jamie. Really. Now you can kick some serious ass tomorrow, yeah?” You’re smiling as you say it, nudging him back with your own arm as the two of you continue to walk.
Then, suddenly, Jamie stops.
Frowning, you glance back at him; “are you–?”
“Me mum helped me with somethin’ else.”
“Oh,” you mumble, not sure where he was going with this. “What’s that?”
“Said I should stop being such a pussy and tell you how I really feel.”
Lips parting, you freeze. “Oh.”
Jamie nods, slow, and you can tell he’s nervous by the way he’s shuffling on his feet. “So… here goes.”
Your eyes widen when he steps forward, closing the distance between the two of you until he’s right in front of you, inches away. Your eyes follow him, head tilted back as you stare up at him, unsure what to do or say. But you don’t need to, because Jamie is speaking up in the next second.
“I’m in love with ya,” he confesses, letting the words just slip past his lips. “I’ve been in love with ya since you hugged me after me dad in Wembley. Maybe before that, I dunno. All I know is that when I came back to Richmond, all I was focused on was makin’ everyone like me again and then you yelled at me that day in yer office and I realized it was more than that. It wasn’t just about makin’ people like me, but makin’ up for the cruel things I'd done. I’m so sorry for the way I treated ya before, but I want you to know that I think the absolute world of ya. You are kind and sweet and smart and proper fit and… I dunno, you might not feel the same but I don’t wanna go on another day not having you know how crazy I am for ya.”
His words settle, carry on in the silence, as you stare back up at him, lips left parted, disbelief coursing through your veins.
Jamie’s confidence wavers as the silence carries and he’s shuffling on his feet in worry as he swallows thickly. “You don’t have to say anythin’,” he assures, rambling now with nerves. “I just wanted ya to know, so–”
But you cut him off by pressing your lips firmly against his own.
Jamie stumbles back from the pure force of the kiss at first, before he catches his balance and the shock fades and his hands are falling on your waist as he squeezes, returning the kiss with just as much passion. Maybe more. He kisses you like he’s been waiting to do this for weeks, and you realize, he maybe has. He holds you like you're the only thing in that moment that matters and you let yourself sink into his touch, turning to putty in his hands as you thread your fingers through his hair.
Then, slowly, you pull away, breathless as he smiles down at you.
“I love you too,” you whisper, “since the day you left me those flowers.”
Jamie’s eyes widen and his lips part but you don’t have the care to be embarrassed by your confession; it just felt good to finally, finally be able to say the words out loud.
“And I am so excited to see you kick ass tomorrow.” You breathe out, pressing your hands to his cheeks as you smile up at him, eyes dazed and sparkling with delight. 
Pressing his forehead against yours, Jamie presses a gentle kiss to your lips.
“And I can’t wait to see you kick ass tomorrow.”
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dilemmaontwolegs · 9 months
Text
Irresistible {3} || CL16
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!reader Summary: What was once heaven turns to hell with the unexpected arrival of a new house guest. Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, smut, cheating, kind of taboo (future stepbrother) WC: 4K F1 Masterlist || One || Two || Three || Four
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It was late by the time Charles entered your room and slipped into the bed. You had retreated to your room after washing the dishes from dinner, silently passing each one to Charles to dry. When there was nothing left to tidy, he sighed and decided he couldn’t delay the call that was inevitable.
“Are you awake?” he asked quietly as he curled his body around yours.
“No.”
You felt his smile on your shoulder before he rolled you over to face him and brushed the hair back that fell over your face. “I think I made a mistake.”
It felt like a cruel joke but you had heard his raised voice through the walls, but the French had meant nothing to you. You were certain that after one argument he was cutting things off but you asked anyway, “Why’s that?”
“Because I don’t want to be in a relationship with her.” He pressed his forehead to yours and the breath you had been holding was released with a relieved sigh. “And she wants to come to the first races too now.”
You pulled back to see the pained look in his eyes and realised you had relaxed prematurely. “I thought you said she wouldn’t go to many.”
“She usually wouldn’t, but with the new race schedule it falls right into her school summer break.”
You huffed at the idea of having to share him and watch as she got to publicly flaunt him. Okay, maybe you were a little jealous - but it didn’t change anything because he could never be yours. “Does she suspect anything between us?”
“I am living with a beautiful woman that I am not related to, of course she is suspicious,” he stated with a nonchalant shrug. “But she won’t outright ask or she would have to give up on the idea that we are perfect for each other.”
Your fingers traced the shape of his beard that was due to be shaved again and your shoulders bounced with a quiet laugh. “Look at you, you have it all figured out.”
For a second his amusement faded away and vulnerability set in as he looked at your laced fingers resting on his chest. “You haven’t changed your mind about coming with me, have you?” His words were whispered like he was afraid of the answer.
“I don’t think I could if I wanted to,” you admitted seriously, before a teasing smirk lightened the atmosphere. “I think I would miss you too much, or a certain part of you.”
“Ah, of course,” he chuckled, grateful for the answer and a distraction, “you only want me for my dick.”
You ran your hand down his bare chest until it met the fabric of the grey sweatpants he wore and teased over his crotch. “I was thinking about your tongue but I would miss this too.”
“I feel used, really, I do,” he huffed but his cock began to stir beneath your palm despite the joking words. “I am just an object to you.”
“Yes, you are, but you are a pretty one,” you added with the sultry smile that always set his blood alight. “So are you going to let me use you?”
He grinned as he easily pulled you over his body to straddle his waist. “Always, ma biche.”
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Lockdown: Week Sixteen
“Hey Daveed, sorry about the stairs,” you apologised as you ordered yet another heavy item online knowing there wasn’t an elevator in the building.
It was an odd world that you found yourself in. You knew the delivery driver by name now, but you still hadn’t seen the bottom half of his face beneath the mask.
“What have you brought now?” Charles asked from the couch as he sent a wave to Daveed.
“I’ll show you if you help me move it.”
Curious, he got up and gently moved you aside so he could pick it up himself, his biceps testing the tensile strength of his shirt sleeves. “Where am I putting it?”
You rushed around the couch and moved the coffee table that was covered with your puzzle magazines before pointing to the space made. “I’ll get the scissors.”
Charles watched his floor space change from hardwood boards to the fluffiest shag pile rug he had ever seen. Everywhere he looked there was evidence of a woman in his home and he had to admit he loved walking into each room and seeing it.
You starfished on the rug after unrolling it and sighed happily at how soft and fluffy it was beneath you. “Lay with me,” you ordered Charles when you opened your eyes to find you smiling down at you.
Dropping down beside you, he stared up at the ceiling and stretched out, sliding his arm under your head. He ran his fingers through the soft material before those same fingers ran down your sleeve and pulled you closer to kiss your temple. “It’s perfect.”
The doorbell buzzed and you both looked at each other wondering who it could be. There wasn’t anything else that had been ordered and it wasn’t as if anyone could just pop around for a visit with the lockdown still under enforcement. You were still frowning at each other when the bell rang again, followed by a shrill call that made Charles stiffen.
“It’s Charlotte.”
You sat up in an instant and all but ran down the hall to your room, quickly snatching Charles’ pillow and tossing it into his room with the other random pieces of clothes that littered your floor. The security chain scraped open before the deadlock was unbolted and you scanned his room to see if there was anything of yours there but luckily most activity had been kept to your space. You hadn’t wanted to sleep in the bed he shared with her, that was about your limit in your morally grey code of ethics.
“Uh, hey, what are you doing here?” Charles asked as he opened the door, his shoulders blocking your view from the hall.
“I thought you would be happier to see me after four months,” Charlotte murmured as she walked around him and into the apartment. She was perceptive of all the changes and was obviously not impressed by them as she set her suitcase down. “My travel exemption came through today.”
Charles frowned at the large luggage bag but recovered enough to kiss her when she leant in. Your exemption had been emailed to him a few days ago so everything was set to go to Austria in two weeks time but that didn’t help him understand why his girlfriend had arrived at his place with the bag. “Are you going somewhere?”
“I figured since I was allowed to travel I would stay here, with you, until we fly out. I can finish my assignment here and we can catch up on lost time.”
Your stomach knotted at the thought but she had put Charles in a position that made an argument almost impossible.
“I would love that, but isn't it a little insensitive to Y/N? I don’t want her feeling like a third wheel in her own home.”
“This isn’t her home.” Charlotte rolled her eyes and you took a step back behind the wall as she looked around for you. “You said she’s just a guest you can’t get rid of because your mum asked nicely.”
You swallowed down the angry words that clawed at your throat and had to watch as Charles wrapped her in his arms, to comfort her.
Your silent steps retreated back to your room and you closed the door before you could hear anything more. Collapsing on your bed feeling displaced, you could smell Charles’ cologne clinging to the sheets and resorted to stripping the bedding off. Not willing to risk being caught in any small talk, you mounded the pile of sheets and duvet covers in the corner of your room and pulled a pair of noise cancelling headphones over your ears.
You drifted in and out of sleep all afternoon, waking once to decline dinner, telling Charles that you weren’t hungry through the locked door, despite the loud growls coming from your stomach. When you woke again night had set in and it was dark outside your window. The growls had turned to cramps and you couldn’t ignore the need for food any longer.
Thankfully the apartment was silent when you emerged from your room and crept down the hall. You could walk the whole house blindfolded if you needed, you knew because it had been a game you played with Charles a few times out of boredom, but you turned a small lamp on in the living room. The soft glow was enough to see in the kitchen and you found a note on the fridge door.
You smiled at the thought of Charles saving a plate for you and grabbed it from inside the fridge. It smelt delicious as you warmed it up in the microwave but one mouthful had to dumping it in the bin. Though your back was to the hall you could feel his presence like the kiss of the sun on your skin and you placed the empty plate in the sink to wash it.
“You should be asleep.”
His steps were quiet across the floor before his hands found your waist and his lips brushed over your nape before he whispered, “Can’t sleep without you.”
You turned away from the sink to face him but whatever command you were thinking of to send him back to his girlfriend was lost when he kissed you. You could taste the apology on his tongue, feel the regret in his touch as his hand slipped beneath your shirt and danced along your spine.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know she was going to show up here.”
His forehead rested against yours and his eyes closed when he felt your hands come to rest on his neck, your fingers feeling his pulse race beneath them. The silence was heavy as he waited for you to say something but you weren’t going to dwell on what you couldn’t change.
“You should be apologising for the pasta, I nearly broke a tooth.”
Charles stepped back with a quiet laugh and combed his fingers through his hair. “You know I am not good at cooking.”
“That wasn’t cooking, it was uncooked,” you corrected him with a smile. “Are you hungry?”
He nodded, having missed your cooking and took a seat on the bench where he could watch you quickly bring a delicious meal together. He never understood how you could do that, how you could look at what was in the fridge and the pantry and create a dish in your head. When he looked all he saw were the individual ingredients but you saw the potential each piece had, it amazed him every time.
The minutes quickly passed and it was effortless to chat with whispered voices while you worked, a complete dichotomy from how his evening with Charlotte went. Conversation with her had felt forced, like he was talking to a stranger, and he had asked how the weather was twice just to fill the awkward silence.
He barely even heard your words, recounting a humorous camping trip with your father where he forgot nearly all of the food. But you had managed to survive for three days inventing new ways to eat sausages. You paused when Charles didn’t laugh at something he should have found funny but he was staring at your lips in a daze.
“Are you okay?” you asked with a wave in front of his face.
He snapped out of whatever trance he was in and you thought maybe he had been falling asleep standing up. You nearly jumped when he suddenly pulled you into his arms and buried his face in your neck. “I love you.” You could feel his smile on your skin before he kissed the column of your neck, whispering it over and over as he made his way to your lips. “I love you.”
Your palms met his chest and gently pushed him back as you wriggled from his hold.
“What?” he asked, suddenly nervous and self conscious.
“You’re just having this revelation now? At,” you checked the time on the oven, “1:11 in the morning while your girlfriend is asleep in your bed.”
“I mean, I’ve kind of known it since the day we met…” He scratched the back of his neck and shrugged apologetically. “I think I loved you the moment you called me a bad driver.”
You balled up your fist and punched him in the shoulder. “You could have told me sooner.”
His forehead crumpled in confusion as he rubbed his arm. “What? Why?”
Stepping back into his personal space, you rose on your toes so you could kiss the corner of his downturned lips. “Because I love you too.”
His smile could have lit up the whole city and it made the unexpected arrival of Charlotte a little easier to bear. It was almost romantic eating dinner with a single candle burning on the table, if it wasn’t for the knowledge that there was an unwanted house guest in the next room. You probably should have eaten in silence to make sure it went undisturbed, there was always more you wanted to know about each other. Sixteen weeks together brought a lot of insight into the other’s psyche but there was still over 20 years of history to learn.
“Did Peter teach you to cook?”
Your laugh was a little too loud in the dead of the night and you shook your head. “He can only cook a steak, and you don’t get a say in how you want it either - it’s always extra well done.” You took a sip of the wine Charles had poured and giggled at the thought of your father teaching you to cook. “There was this old woman who did the payroll at dad’s work and after mum left Betty helped step in for all the ‘girly’ stuff. Make-up, cooking, boys.”
The corner of Charles’ lips kicked up in a smirk as he sat back in his chair and sighed happily with a full stomach and contentment he had missed all evening. “I imagine you were already a natural when it came to boys.”
You mirrored his amusement and leaned your head on his shoulder when he draped his arm over the back of your chair. “Of course, one insult and I had them wrapped around my finger,” you joked.
“Worked with me.”
“But you’re weird.”
Footsteps padded down the hall and you sat up before Charlotte arrived wearing a shirt of Charles’. She froze as she found the cosy scene and the sleepy haze lifted from her face. “What is this?”
You smiled and reached for the bottle of wine to refill your glass. “I was hungry, sorry, didn’t mean to wake you. Would you like to join us?”
She looked at the clock and you were surprised to see it was almost 3am. Time always seemed to slip by unnoticed when you were with Charles, he was captivating that way.
“No, thank you,” she politely declined as she held a hand out to Charles. “We are going back to bed.”
Charles let her lead him from the room but he looked over his shoulder with a pout and mouthed ‘I love you’ before saying aloud, “sweet dreams.”
You smiled as you mouthed the words back and promised, “I will.”
That was the last stolen moment alone. Charlotte seemed to sleep lighter and followed Charles everywhere he went in the apartment. He couldn’t even stream alone in his office, her ever present shadow was there in the background to gate keep him from you. At night, their arguments would keep you awake and your French understanding grew to know nearly every swear word they used. 
You could see the misery in the dark bags beneath Charles' eyes each morning at breakfast. Though he no longer sat beside you, there was one perk to facing him with the table Charlotte used as a barrier between you. Warmth ran up your leg and you fought not to react to Charles’ touch, it wasn’t much but it was his quiet reassurance that everything would be okay.
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Lockdown: Week Seventeen
You woke to a screech and rolled over to bury your head under your pillow. Unfortunately you weren’t able to block out her voice as it grew louder to the point she was yelling. Tossing your blankets back, you draped a robe around your shoulders and swept out of the room with a mission to find out why your sleep had been disturbed.
“Charles, can you please remind her what an inside voice is?” you asked quietly as you took a seat with him at his piano, watching the angry young woman pace around the living room.
“You live like a pig!” Charlotte growled as she picked up his dirty plate left on the coffee table. “And how hard is it to put the toilet seat down?”
You cast a side eye at Charles to see him struggling to hold a smirk in check. He was clearly enjoying himself but you were confused since he had always put the toilet seat down before, and cleaned up after himself.
“Why are there so many cushions in this place?” Her rant continued as she picked up the floral pieces you had scattered across the couch to bring colour to the room.
“I like cushions,” you answered her rhetorical question, drawing her attention to your presence.
“I know exactly what you like,” she sneered as her eyes darted to Charles before she stormed out of the room, dropping the plate in the kitchen sink as she passed.
“Where are you going?” Charles asked as he made to follow, sending a kiss your way.
“Home!”
You dropped onto the couch, enjoying the way your body sunk into the soft cushions, and listened to the rant continue while Charlotte packed her suitcase. You had to bite one pillow when Charles made a weak attempt to change her mind but then she was wheeling her luggage out the door.
Unfortunately her departing words left you little hope as she promised, “I’ll meet you at the airport.”
The door closed behind her and Charles leaned his back against it with a sigh. You cocked a brow at him before he slid the deadbolt home and all but jumped over the back of the couch, pinning you under his body.
“Finally, I have you all to myself,” he hummed happily against your lips but you tugged his hair back so he could see the confusion on your face. “What? I missed you.”
“You planned all that?”
He shrugged and dipped his head to capture your lips that left you needing more of his kisses and less of his clothes. “I was hoping she was going to break up with me, but I’ll keep working on that. PR can’t be mad at me if it’s her choice.”
You combed your fingers through his hair, feeling the soft strands that were in need of a trim again. “But what happens next? They’ll just set you up with another woman that fits their image for you.”
He shook his head adamantly and pressed his forehead to yours. “I’m done with that. I’ll tell them I need to focus on my career or something to get them off my back. There’s only one woman I want, Bambi.”
You tried not to let his promise affect you but the butterflies in your stomach turned to a burn across your cheeks and you buried your face in his neck. His deep laugh reverberated from his chest as he kissed your temple and started to climb off you.
“Hey, where do you think you are going?” you asked as his weight was lifted from you.
“I was going to bed,” he said with a smirk as he started to walk towards the hall. “Coming, ma biche?”
The cushions went flying as you scrambled to your feet and raced after him. It felt as if the universe had righted itself when you closed your door behind you and found Charles stretched across your bed. For a moment you just leaned back and enjoyed the view that you had missed, but only for a moment - you had better ideas on how to spend your time. 
“You’re wearing too many clothes,” you pointed out.
“Why don’t you come and change that?” he challenged with a smirk. Making himself comfortable, he tucked his hands behind his head but the movement tugged the bottom of his shirt up to tease you with the deep V lines you wanted to run your tongue along.
“With pleasure.” You untied your robe and let the material fall to the floor before you stalked him down and reached for his sweatpants. You dragged the soft cloth down and he lifted his hips to make it easier, not that it would have stopped you.
You dipped your head down, grazing your teeth over his hip bone and goosebumps prickled across his skin. His breath caught in his chest as the tingling feeling spread over his body and he chuckled at the sight of it. It was a reaction he had never had with anyone else, there was no one else who could possibly elicit such a feeling with just one touch. 
“Fuck,” he shuddered breathlessly when you lashed your tongue along one V line. He could feel your breath warm on his cock before it cooled as you climbed higher and he groaned at the smirk on your lips. You were playing with him. 
“Be patient,” you warned as you grabbed his shirt and tugged it up his chest. 
“It’s been 9 days, Bambi,” he gasped when you nipped his nipple before easing the sharp pain with your tongue.
“Exactly.” You peeked up his body from under your lashes and enjoyed the strained look on his face, his brows pinched together and his hands in fists behind his head. He was struggling not to take control and bury himself in you. “I have to make up for lost time.”
You pushed him to his limit as you nipped and sucked your way across his body from his neck to his thighs. “Please, ma biche,” he finally whined as his hard cock pulsed with the need to feel your wet warmth. 
“Since you asked so nicely…” You sealed your lips around the swollen tip and hummed in delight at the taste of him. There wasn’t a word that could describe it but it was an aphrodisiac of the highest strength. Need grew to a throb between your legs and your eyes fluttered shut as you clenched your thighs together. 
A deep groan had your eyes opening and you found a wild look in Charles’ before he reached for your arms. You let him guide you up his body thinking he was going to spear you down on his cock but he shuffled down the bed and positioned you over his face. “My turn, mon amour.” 
Your fingers clutched at the headboard as his tongue expertly found all the spots that made you see stars. Like you, he hadn’t forgotten how to drive you wild in the long days since Charlotte’s arrival. 
“Please, Charles,” you begged as he teased around your clit, keeping you dancing on the precipice of oblivion. He teased and he teased until a growl of frustration tore from you lips and you combed your fingers into his hair so you could grind your hips over his face, taking what you needed from him. 
Satisfied and smiling, you were flipped onto your back and Charles chuckled as he kissed his way up your body. “That was rude.”
“You love it,” you fired back with an equally daring smirk that fell away when your lips parted with a soft gasp as he thrust his hips forward and buried himself inside you.
“Fuck, I do,” he agreed with a moan. His breath heated your neck as he kissed your racing pulse, caressing your skin with his lips until he reached yours. “I love you.”
Click here for the next part.
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cloudystevie · 1 month
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omg I used to be such a Steve girly when I first followed u and now I’m more a Bucky gal so I’m glad to hear u like him too🥹 any crumbs of the jealous/protective Bucky trope would be sufficient 🙏🏼
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warnings: sleazy stupid pervy man(not bucky obvi), petname (baby), asyphxiation, reader is more horned up for bucky than she cares about stupid sleazy man sorry, manhandling, pinv, semi-public sex (in a locked club bathroom)
author’s note: clearly idk what drabble means cuz this is 1500 words. trying to figure out the flow of writing drabbles (and just writing in general this is not my best work) ! the steve girlie to bucky girlie pipeline needs to be studied tbh!!! thank you so much for sending in this little thought baby hope you enjoy!!!🩷🩷🩷
18+ only minors dni.
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“I’ll be back in a second baby, just need to use the restroom real quick.”
You attempt to shuffle off Bucky’s lap, surrounded by all your closest friends at a circular booth at one of the newest clubs in the city. But before you can completely wriggle yourself free of his grip, his hands flex on your waist halting your movements. “I’ll come with you sweetheart.”
You giggle and playfully roll your eyes, “I’m not going to die in the 20 steps it takes to get to the washroom Bucky, I’ll be back in a sec.” You place a quick kiss on his bearded cheek and squirm out of his lap before making your way to the washroom, looking at him over your shoulder and giggling as he glares at you.
Currently, you were in the midst of working up your brooding boyfriend so he would take out all of his frustration on you in the most delicious way possible. Being a little bratty was just a little investment for the incredibly rewarding return you’d get later on.
Surprisingly the washrooms were unoccupied so you were in and out in just a few minutes, powdering your face and touching up your lips while you were at it. Giving yourself a once over in the extravagant mirror you head out of the washroom, swinging the door open and attempting to put your lip liner and lip oil back into your purse. You accidentally bump into someone, causing you to shoot your neck up and let out a flurry of apologies as you see their drink now splattered on their shirt.
“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry I didn’t see you coming. I’m so so so sorry I should’ve been paying more attention. I’m so sorry about your shirt.” Furrowing your eyebrows in concern you take in the man before you. He was a bit taller than you, dirty blonde hair all ruffled up with green eyes just scanning your body with an appreciative smirk. You couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable despite your apologetic gaze as you subconsciously search for Bucky, glancing around the suddenly very packed VIP section.
“It’s alright sugar, wasn’t planning on stripping naked so early into the night but if that’s what you want, who am I to deny you huh?” His voice attempts to be sultry but it just comes across as sleazy, making you grimace and chuckle curtly.
“That really wasn’t my intention, I’m really sorry once again. You can ask the bartender to put a drink on my boyfriend's tab. Just for the inconvenience of course.” A smile that doesn’t meet your eyes is on your face, as you continue looking around for your table of friends, for anybody you may know to save you from this slimy piece of shit.
“Boyfriend huh? Does your boyfriend know you bump into other guys dressed like a little slut?” He steps closer to you making you take a step back. It’s too crowded for anyone to take notice of you specifically and the music is too loud for you to scream and cause a scene.
“Excuse me?” Your voice comes out as strong as you had hoped.
“You heard me, now, what are we gonna do about making this up to me huh? Why don’t you follow me.” He roughly grabs your arm and you attempt to jerk it out of his grip.
“Don’t fucking touch me.” You spit out, yanking your arm out of his sweaty grip and shoving him back, causing him to stumble backwards and almost land flat on his ass. This causes a commotion as the people around you stare at the scene unfolding in front of them.
One second you’re trying to shove past the man to get to your table and the next he’s forcing himself onto you again with much more force this time. Before you can even react he’s being ripped off of you and shoved to the floor by your boyfriend who seemingly appeared right when you needed him most.
Bucky pushes his forearm into the man’s throat, making him struggle for breath and weakly fight back, but he is no match for your super-soldier boyfriend. “You wanna go around putting your fucking hands on women is that right? On my girl?” Bucky seethes, eyes wide with anger as the man struggles to shake his head to deny his words.
Everyone has their eyes on you as your group of friends quickly cut through the crowd to get to both of you, Steve and Sam trying to gently pull Bucky off the guy as Natasha and Wanda come to your aid, standing by you and asking what happened, trying to soothe your thumping heart.
You can’t focus on anything except the way Bucky is holding this man down for you. “Don’t let me catch you even breathing in her direction again you piece of shit. Tryna put your fuckin’ hands on my girl, I’ll fuckin’ k-”
You breathe out his name once. Bucky snaps his head away from the man whose colour is draining out of his face to take in your expression. Bucky can read you even better than you can read yourself sometimes. He can see you are obviously upset but even more than that, your eyes are scanning over his shoulders and biceps, his beefy frame easily overpowering the frail man.
Bucky can read you better than anyone else, and right now, you’re not scared or uncomfortable. You’re turned on. The quick rise and fall of your chest, the twinkle in your eyes, and the way you tug at your bottom lip. He even knows you’re ashamed that you’re turned on. But that doesn’t stop you. It never has.
Bucky smirks, and grabs the man by his neck, standing up with him as his legs weakly kick in the air, wheezing out unintelligible apologies and Bucky just looks at you over his shoulder, ignoring the way Steve and Sam are struggling to get him to put the man down. The veins in his arms make you practically drool as you make eye contact with Bucky, and the next moment the man is crumpled on the ground. The man scurries away, clutching at his throat where bruises are already starting to appear. Calling Bucky crazy and how you weren’t even worth it. Bucky pays him no mind because now his attention is all on you.
“You okay baby?” Bucky asks as he walks towards you, pulling you into his broad frame as he scans you with a worried expression. You nod mindlessly and before you know it you’re being ushered into the restroom you just came out of. Bucky locks the door behind him and before you can breathe you’re on him. Your lips clash against his, your tongues and teeth and spit mixing as your hands grip onto his shoulders as he picks you up and places you on the counter in one fluid motion. The display of strength makes you mewl into the kiss as you rut against his growing bulge making him hiss.
“Bucky- Bucky please I need you right now.” You beg, reluctantly pulling away from the heated kiss to look at him with your wide eyes. He looks at you through his hooded eyes, taking in your desperation before smirking. “What does my baby need hmm?”
His teasing makes you whine as you messily grind your crotch against his, looking for any friction. “Need you Bucky, need you only you need you to fuck me.” You blabber mindlessly, begging for him to claim you. Your words make Bucky groan and his hands wrap around your throat to hold you in place against him.
“Need me to remind you who you belong to? Is that it? You’re my girl aren’t you?” He growls against your mouth, biting your bottom lip and nipping at your sensitive skin.
You whine and nod as his hands wrap around you the same way they were wrapped around the man earlier. You moan as he sucks into the sweet spot behind your ear. “Yea- Yes need you to fuck me so good so that everyone can hear us please Bucky. Please, need everyone to know I’m yours and you're mine.” You’re not even sure if your words make sense.
But Bucky understands. He always does.
So he squeezes his hands around your neck just once, watching the hazy smile take over your feature, before quickly manhandling you so you’re bent over the counter, your eyes meeting his through the mirror. You push your hips back against his once and he wraps his forearm around your neck to pull you up, fiddling with his pants and shoving your panties to the side before filling you up in one thrust. He slides in easily due to how wet you were but his girth always creates a delicious stretch and you cry out at the feeling of being full. Your head lulls back to fall onto his sturdy shoulder and he tuts, tapping your cheek with his free hand before squishing your cheeks together and forcing you to look at the two of you.
He leans into your ear, feeling the shiver that wracks your body and he presses his open mouth against your cheek, his breath more prominent than your own. “Don’t you fucking dare look away from the mirror. You’re gonna watch yourself while I fuck you so you’ll always remember what you look like where you belong. Going dumb on my dick.”
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buckys-wintersoldier · 9 months
Text
I only want you | Bucky Barnes
Pairing -> BestFriend!Bucky Barnes x BestFriend!Female!Reader
Summary -> During the party he confesses his feelings for you, he kisses you but the next day he isn’t the same anymore. Your best friend is the biggest idiot you have ever seen and you don’t know why.
Warnings -> Bucky being an idiot, mention of Bucky’s past/trauma, Sharon being a bitch, hurt/comfort, angst, crying, kind of insults, fluff
Wordcount -> 7.1k (it’s long but it’s worth it, I guess)
A/N: I want to thank @mrsbuckybarnes1917 for listening when I came up with that idea as well as supporting me to find the way through all the ideas, and thank you so much for proofreading it, I really appreciate it. I’m sorry when I hurt someone, trust me I cried a lot while I wrote that oneshot but I just needed to write something to calm down my feelings and yeah here we are. I hope you all enjoy it.
Divider made by @firefly-graphics.
Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist
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Bucky isn’t really a drinker, especially not since he became the Winter Soldier. He enjoys the taste, but the serum that is constantly running through his veins makes it impossible for him to experience the effects of the alcohol. It isn’t rare that he wishes to get drunk so he can forget all the memories of the things she did during the time with Hydra. It’s like Thor knew exactly about his thoughts because he is waving a flask of Asgardian Ale in front of Bucky, and the brown-haired man decides it is the perfect opportunity to drink his troubles away.
“Buck, you shouldn’t drink too much of that Asgardian Ale,” you mumble while you sit next to your best friend and look at him. You know about his trouble and about his traumatic past, but you also know it’s never an opportunity to drink it away. He has the glass completely full again and smiles at you.
“It’s oke; I can’t get too drunk. I’m the Wiener Soldier,” he says and bursts out laughing. Then he lifts his glass and turns around. "Cheers!" he shouts through the room, even when it’s almost impossible that someone hears it.
The music is way too loud to hear your own words without shouting. So it isn’t surprising when the people in the room don’t hear what Bucky shouts. Except for the two next to him, you and Steve.
“Cheers, pal!" Steve shouts and lifts his glass as well. He smiles at Bucky before he pours the liquid down his throat. You shake your head and turn around. Your back leans against the counter, and you place your forearms on top of the counter, looking at the people dancing in the middle of the room.
“Haven’t felt like that since the 40’s,” Bucky groans, filling his glass again. Then he turns to you and looks straight into your eyes. “I feel like I’m 20 again; it feels better than I thought. Do you always feel like that?” he asks and places his hand on your shoulder, standing up slowly to stand in front of you.
Then he winks at you while he almost falls to the side. You almost burst out laughing when he tries to grab something to not fall.
“Woah, the room is spinning. I didn’t know Tony was able to build something like that,” your best friend says while holding your shoulders so he won’t fall down.
You look at him and grip his arms to lead him to the seat next to you again, but he doesn’t want to move. You giggle when he leans closer, and the stubble from his beard tickles you. Bucky kisses your cheek softly.
“My lady, wanna dance with me?” he asks and looks at you with the most adorable puppy look.
His blue eyes are almost begging you to dance with him, and even when you would prefer to bring him into his room and make sure he goes to sleep, you can’t say no.
With a nod, you stand up as well, and he wraps his arms immediately around your waist. He doesn’t walk far away from the counter, just a few steps, so the two of you can dance without crashing against something. Bucky spins you around while he holds you still, pressed against him.
You wonder how it must feel for him when the room is already spinning, but the way he smiles and looks at you makes your mind dizzy, and you can’t think of anything other than him. You lay your head against his shoulder, and the heat of his body warms you. His hands are around your waist, making you almost melt in his embrace, and you could stay like that for the rest of the evening.
After a few minutes and Bucky almost lying on the ground and sleeping, you push him to the seats. Making sure he doesn’t miss the chair, when he sits, he immediately looks for his glass.
“Where is it? I’m thirsty," he says, looking at you with a slightly sad gaze.
You feel a bit sorry for him, but you reach for another glass, this time with water. Bucky looks at it skeptically, but then he pours it down his throat. Shaking his head like it’s something awful he doesn’t like. You chuckle, and it makes him look at you.
“Have you ever tried that? That’s awful,” he tells you and offers you the glass even when it’s empty.
“It’s not that bad,” you reply, and you take the glass to place it on the counter next to you.
“We should bring you into your room, you should sleep a bit,” you say, taking his hands into yours.
Before you can pull him up, and with you out of the room, he pulls you closer, and his lips are just a few inches away from yours. He is so close that you can feel his breath against your lips; it's warm and smells strongly of the ale he has consumed. You need to close your eyes for a moment. The man in front of you is making you go crazy.
“I don’t want to go to bed, not yet. I want to kiss you first, can I?” he asks you, and you immediately feel like he is Bucky from the 40’s again. And even when you don’t agree to drink his troubles away, you’re happy that he doesn’t have to suffer with his past right now. And let’s be honest, the 40’s Bucky is a gentleman, and you always wanted to know him; now you have the chance, at least for tonight.
“Doll?” Bucky asks, and you feel a shiver along your spine because of his soft voice.
You look into his eyes and smile softly.
“Of course,” you answer, not sure anymore about the question he asked.
He leans closer and kisses you softly. Bucky’s pink, plumb lips are so soft on yours, you never imagined them being that soft. You slide your hands through his hair, playing with his light curls. His lips move slowly against yours, while he lets you feel everything you tried to avoid when you’re around him. The feeling in your stomach whenever he touches you, the way he looks at you, or talks to you. You adore the way he tells you ‘Doll’ and you enjoy every moment you can spend with your best friend.
And that’s the point where you thought he would never feel the same for you. He is your best friend, and he was always a gentleman, so you were sure he was just nice. And now he is kissing you, with his hands at your waist, holding you close. Bucky is drunk, so you aren’t sure if it’s just a situation of his drunken state, but they always say: drunk people tell the truth, so he would feel the same for you as you feel for him.
When the two of you move a few inches away from each other, you still look into his eyes. His gaze looks a bit foggy, but you can also see the storm in his blue eyes.
“I love you; you’re the most adorable girl I know. You don’t know what you do to me whenever you look at me or just touch me softly. My feelings go crazy, and whenever another man walks close to you, I want to push them away and tell them you’re mine. I can’t sleep because I think of you; when you’re in a room with me, I can’t concentrate on something else, just on you,” Bucky says, and he smiles softly, his cheeks turning slightly red. “I have loved you for so long, but I thought you would never love me the same way. I was the Winter Soldier, and I don’t think I deserve someone brave, strong, wonderful, and perfect like you,” he adds, leaning his forehead against yours, wanting you to be as close as possible and feel your warmth.
You smile and press your lips against his again. The tingling feeling in your stomach grows again, and when he stands up, he towers over you, placing his hands around your cheeks, and he pulls you closer.
“I love you so much, my doll,” he whispers and slowly lets go of you, his hands gripping your waist again.
“I love you too, Buck. And you deserve everything good; it wasn’t you when you were the Winter Soldier. You’re a gentleman and the most precious one; I love the way you care about everyone you love,” you tell him, and he blushes.
Bucky lifts one of his hands and presses two of his fingers onto your lips, trying to make you shut up before you can compliment him more.
“You need more than two fingers to make me shut up,” you giggle, and his smile grows before he leans down and presses his lips on yours. He makes you speechless with the way his soft and warm lips move against yours.
“You two are almost disgusting,” Steve mumbles next to you, making you chuckle.
When you and Bucky break the kiss, you look at Steve. He still looks at you and blushes when he recognizes that you caught him looking at you and Bucky.
“You think it’s almost disgusting, but you can’t stop looking at us, huh?” you ask, and he immediately turns his head away while his cheeks get deeply red.
When you turn your head back to look at Bucky, you feel a burning look in your back. Without looking around, you already know the person who is staring at you with the same angry gaze; she always looks at you. Bucky recognizes your thoughtful look and looks up to see the person behind you. His hand clenches around your waist, and you hiss softly.
“Sorry, doll,” he mumbles, immediately losing his grip around your waist.
“Tony is staring at mine,” he growls, and you look around. You see Tony standing on the other side of the room and looking in your direction. He looks annoyed, and when you look a few inches further to the side, you see the person who is burning a hole in your back. Bucky thinks it’s Tony who is looking at you, but you know he is just listening to the person next to him. She is the one who hates you for being Bucky’s best friend, and now she will hate you more because Bucky kissed you. Sharon has had a crush on Bucky since you met her the first time, and he sometimes looks flirty around her, but he is always like that around friends. Otherwise, he would date Tony, Thor, or Steve as well.
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The next morning, you wake up to the sun slowly brightening your room. You open your eyes and smile when the flashbacks of the last night come back into your mind. You and Bucky shared a lot more kisses, soft touches, and dances during the night.
You sit up slowly, stretching your limbs, and look at the clock. It’s just a bit after ten in the morning. After a few more minutes where you just look out of the window and enjoy the sun and the comfortable silence in your room, you stand up and walk through your bathroom.
With a few movements, you get out of your clothes and walk into the shower. The hot water runs along your body, and you feel your muscles relaxing under the warmth. You close your eyes, enjoying the moment just for you. In front of your eyes, you see Bucky kissing you the way he did last night. Your fingers are brushing softly over your lips, and for a moment, you feel like he is kissing you again. His hands are around your waist, and his body is pressing against yours.
But when you open your eyes, you just hear the sound of the water and your towel in front of you. No Bucky, right now. Just the thoughts making you smile again and the feeling in your stomach are the most wonderful you have ever felt until now. You are already excited to see him in a few minutes, but first you need to finish your shower and choose some comfortable clothes to wear.
With the biggest smile on your lips, you walk through the floor and into the shared kitchen.
“Someone looks really happy today,” Tony says, and you blush immediately.
Your eyes scan the room, so you can find Bucky and go to him. Talk to him about the last night and make sure you meant what you said. When you walk a few steps further into your room, you see Steve lying on the couch, holding his hand and groaning.
“I don’t know what happened last night. Tony, how can you manage to never have a headache?” he asks, and Tony laughs before he places his hand on Steve’s shoulder.
"Painkillers are really useful. It doesn't help to remember, but they help against the other effects after being drunk,” he says, and Steve nods. He doesn’t want to get up, so he just closes his eyes and tries to sleep a while longer.
You look around and see Bucky in front of the counter. Sharon stands next to him, and her hand rubs his back up and down. You roll your eyes, disgusted about the other girl, as you walk to them.
“Hey, Buck,” you say with a smile, and when the brown-haired man turns around, he smiles softly.
But in another way, as usual, he looks a bit sad, and instead of looking at you, he looks to the side.
“Hey,” he mumbles and takes his bowl with cereal.
Then he walks to the table, and Sharon follows him. You look at them both; maybe he has a hangover? You try to push the negative thoughts away and make yourself a bowl with your favorite cereals. You walk around the table and sit down in front of Bucky; he doesn’t look at you, and he doesn’t talk to you. He was just focused on his cereals and probably deep in his own thoughts.
“Buck?” You ask carefully, and he hums but still doesn’t look up from his bowl. “Can we talk? I mean just you and me?”
He nods in response and finishes his breakfast, then finally looks up to see you. But something is still different when he just loves to look into your eyes and adore the colors, but this time he looks at you like you’re someone else.
He waits until you finish your breakfast as well, and then he follows you through your room. Your best friend closes the door behind himself and looks at you.
“What’s up?” He asks with a cold voice, and you shiver immediately.
“Do you remember last night?” you ask, playing with your hands. You don’t want to look at him; you’re scared about the way he looks at you.
“No, but Sharon told me about it,” he tells you, and you nod softly.
For a moment, the two of you are quiet. You don’t know what to say, but the silence is uncomfortable as well. You shift from one foot to the other, your hands sweating, and you feel like you need to throw up.
“Why are you so cold?” you then ask and look at Bucky.
He clenches his jaw with his eyes staring at you, and the way he looks at you makes you even more uncomfortable. He never looked at you like that; the coldness almost showed hate in his eyes, and you can’t help but feel the tears burning in your eyes. He notices the tears in your eyes, and a sarcastic grin forms on his lips.
“Why are you crying now?” Bucky asks you loudly; you hiss and feel so small in front of him.
“You- Buck, yo-” You start to say something, but he interrupts you.
“Don’t call me ‘Buck’ or ‘Bucky’. You have no right to say that. You don’t deserve to say that,” he shouts, and your eyes widen.
“What do you want me to call you then?” you ask, trying to wipe the tears in your eyes away.
“Use my name. I have it for a reason,” he says, and you nod, not able to say anything.
You don’t know what happened to him. Last night he confessed his love to you, and now he acts like he hates you and has never even thought about loving you.
“Want to talk now or not? I have better things to do,” he says, rolling his eyes annoyed.
You feel a tear slowly falling down your cheek, not knowing the man in front of you anymore. He isn’t like your best friend; he isn’t like the one you fall in love with; he isn’t the one who kissed you yesterday; and he isn’t the Bucky, you know.
You shake your head. You want to talk; you really want to, but you can’t. At least not with the man in front of you. Was it all a lie? Was it all just fake? Or what happened that he is the way he is right now.
“Good,” he says, and he turns around to leave the room.
The moment he closes the door behind himself, you break down on the floor. You fall on your knees, the tears streaming down your cheeks, and you’re sobbing loudly. There is no feeling inside of you right now; you feel empty. You stare at the wall in front of you, his face in your mind, his smell, and the way he kissed you last night. You hear his words, like he is standing next to you and saying them to you. The ones of the night when he confesses his love to you and the ones he said a few minutes ago when he was looking at you with his cold, blue eyes.
“I love you; you’re the most adorable girl I know.”
“Don’t call me ‘Buck’ or ‘Bucky’.”
“I can’t sleep because I think of you; when you’re in a room with me, I can’t concentrate on something else, just on you.”
“Want to talk now or not? I have better things to do.”
It takes a while until you slowly calm down. You're curled on the floor, and the tears are still streaming down your cheeks. But your sobbing is quieter, and you slowly fall asleep on the floor. All the tears and the crying make you so sleepy that you don’t recognize Steve walking into your room and lifting you up to place you in your bed.
He sits next to you, his fingers stroking your hair softly out of your face, and he looks at you with a soft but sad smile. He saw Bucky walking out of the room, his gaze as cold as the whole morning, and even when he doesn’t know what happened at the party, he doesn’t want to leave you alone. But he also doesn’t want to interrupt you while you’re crying because he knows you would have to hide it, and he knows you need to let the feelings out of your body.
You don’t sleep well; nightmares interrupt your sleep every time, but you’re too tired to stay awake for a while. In every dream is Bucky; first he helps you, but in the next moment he shouts at you, laughs at you, and does everything you never thought he would do to you. You’re sweating and whimpering in your sleep, turning from one side to the other.
Steve tries to comfort you with his hand on your thigh, but it doesn’t work. With widened eyes, you wake up, starting to cry again for a few minutes before you fall asleep again. You don’t mind if someone sees you crying or not; you can’t escape Bucky, his coldness, not even in your dreams, and it robs you of all of the strength you have.
“Y/N?” Steve asks when you’re awake, but you turn around so you don’t have to face him.
You mumble a soft ‘mhm’. Steve sighs, his fingers drawing small circles on your thigh.
“Do you want to tell me what happened?” he asks, but you shake your head.
You just want to be alone right now. Steve nods and stands up, walking through the door, but before he leaves the room, he turns to you.
“If you need me, you can call me or just come to my room,” he offers.
“Thank you,” you whimper, and the tears are streaming down your face again.
You can’t stop thinking about Bucky; he is burned in your mind like something you need to be. Something you need to be happy, and yes, he is someone you need to be happy. Without him, it doesn’t feel the same; watching your favorite movie wouldn’t be as fun because there is someone missing who holds you when you cry out of joy because they are married. Playing board games wouldn’t be the same because the one freaking out because he doesn’t get what he wants isn't playing the board games with you. Eating your favorite snacks and ice cream wouldn’t be the same because the one man who always laughs about your snack and ice cream decisions wouldn’t laugh. The one cuddling up wouldn’t let you cuddle with him, and you would miss HIS warmth and HIS scent. It’s not just a man; it’s the ONE man; it’s Bucky.
Wrapped in your blanket, you sit against the headboard of your bed. Looking through the channels for something that could distract you. But you feel like Bucky is manipulating the television because every channel shows a movie you used to watch with Bucky.
Everything reminds you of him: every place, every movement. Every second reminds you of Bucky, the memories you both have, and the moments you shared. And now he treats you like you’re the worst thing he has ever seen, and there is no reason why he does it, right?
You don’t want to sit in your room, but you don’t want to see Bucky somewhere as well. But you feel hungry after some time, and even when you wish you didn’t have to stand up to get some food, you don’t want to make yourself feel worse just because of Bucky.
So you slowly get up; it’s already afternoon when you walk through your room. Before you reach the door, you see the pictures on your wall. He and you took so many pictures during trips or parties, some when he was joking and others when he tried to look mad. Even when he really looks like a pouting puppy, when he tries to look mad at you, you always laugh about his pouting face.
You open your door and immediately hear the voices of the others. But there are not a lot of them; just three of them are there and talk. Steve, Bucky, and Sharon. With quiet footsteps, you walk closer to the room. You look at the floor, hoping that no one will see you.
But when your feet meet the ground in the room, the gazes of the three of them are immediately on you. Steve smiles sadly when he sees you. You probably look like a wrack, with red eyes and tears all over your face, but you don’t mind. Sharon looks at you with a smile, and Bucky is as cold as before.
When you make your way to the counter, you hear Sharon flirting with Bucky, and you feel like you want to throw up. You hate her, especially since she is a jealous bitch when you’re with Bucky. And now he has him for himself - exactly the plan she had.
“Buck, look at me,” she says, and you look around to see what they do. That’s the moment you wish you wouldn’t be in the room right now. Sharon leans closer, and her lips meet Bucky’s softly. His arms are wrapped around her waist, and you see yourself in her. The moment you had last night, and now he kisses her, not the one he confessed his love to last night.
The tears forming in your eyes - they're burning. They slowly stream down your cheeks, but you don't make a noise; you just look at them until they break the kiss, and Sharon looks at you with a wide bitch smile again.
“You’re right!" you shout, and Bucky turns around to look at you as well.
With a confused gaze, the two men look at you, and you chuckle sarcastically.
“You don’t deserve me. You’re an idiot, and I would prefer to be killed by the Winter Soldier instead of being your best friend,” you shout, and you see the change in his gaze.
You don’t mean it, not really, but the anger inside of you lets you say things like that.
You see, you hurt him by saying that he has nightmares because of the Winter Soldier; he blames himself for that, and you were the one who was able to give him moments where he didn’t blame himself, but now that you mention the Winter Soldier in a way, you hurt him the most you can. And you’re sorry for that, but you hate him so much right now that you can’t stop yourself from telling him things like that.
“I feel like he would love more than you ever can,” you say, and you walk a few steps closer to him. “I hate you, in a way I never thought it would be possible,” you hiss and turn away to grab some food from the counter before you leave the room.
Bucky looks at you, and the moment those words leave your mouth, his small world breaks a bit more. The only person who loved him so much hates him now. But he deserves it, doesn’t he? And he can’t bring himself to walk to you and ask what he did because he is way too mad at you for a reason he doesn’t want to admit in front of you.
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It's been a week now since you saw Sharon and Bucky kissing each other. The day he started to be an ass and the day you told him he didn’t deserve you. And you didn’t change your mind; he hasn't been nice to you since that day; he ignores you; he doesn’t even look at you. His arms are always around Sharon’s body, and his lips are on hers.
You don’t really care about yourself anymore; you’re mostly in your room, crying or just laying there and waiting until you finally fall asleep. Steve tries every day to get you out of bed and wants to plan your favorite trips, but every one of them reminds you of Bucky, and you prefer your warm and comforting bed.
Someone knocks at your door, and you hum in response before Steve opens the door.
“Want to eat something? I cooked, and you need to eat,” he says, but you shake your head and turn around so you don’t have to face him.
Steve sighs softly and walks closer to you. He sits next to you on your bed and runs his fingers along your side.
“Do you want to tell me what happened between you and Buck? He looks different as well since the party,” Steve says thoughtfully, and you slowly turn around to look at him.
Your eyes are red, and he can see the tears all over your cheeks. Steve lifts his hand and wipes the tears away, smiling softly at you. You slowly sit up, your back against the headboard of your bed, and you pull your knees against your chest, wrapping your arms around them and placing your head on your knees.
“I thought-“ you sob quietly. “He said he loved me, and then he suddenly was with Sharon,” you mumble, and you can’t stop the tears again.
“He told you he loved you? When? I mean, I know it, but when did he tell you?” Steve asks, and your eyes widen for a moment.
He knows that Bucky loves you? What happened to Bucky being the way he is when he really loves you? Why is he kissing Sharon when he could have you? He could have the one he really loves.
“At the party, he told me he loved me. He kissed me,” you mumble, and Steve’s jaw drops.
“He finally managed it?” he asks, and you nod.
“And the next day he was the idiot he is, kissing Sharon, and it looks like they are happy together,” you tell him, and he shakes his head.
“I need to talk to him,” he tells you, leaning forward to kiss your cheek.
You look at him while he leaves your room. He almost runs out of it, and you don’t know why, but you don’t mind. Steve wants to talk to Bucky, but it won’t change his feelings for Sharon. And maybe Bucky thought it was her when the two of you kissed. Maybe he thought it was her when he confessed his feelings.
Meanwhile, Steve rushes into Bucky’s room. He sits on the edge of his bed, staring at the television. He doesn’t want to see Sharon today; he misses you, even when it’s just looking at you or hearing you talk. But since you’re in your room and only outside when you’re sure no one else is outside, he hasn’t heard or seen you in days.
“Buck?” Steve asks softly, and Bucky turns his head to look at the brown-haired man. He looks more broken than ever before. Steve walks closer to Bucky and lets himself fall next to his best friend in bed. “Where is Sharon?” he asks, and Bucky shrugs.
“Don’t care,” he says, and he stares in front of him again.
“Pal, what happened that you’re the way you are with y/n?” Steve looks at Bucky and sees the small tear escaping the corner of his eye.
"Nothing; she doesn’t want me,” he answers, and Steve chuckles softly. Stubborn idiot, but still his best friend and the idiot in love with you.
“She told me you confessed your love for her. And the two of you kissed. When she told me, I remembered, and it was her; it wasn’t Sharon, pal,” Steve continues, and Bucky’s eyes widen before he looks at his best friend again.
“We did what? And Sharon, what?” he asks.
“You kissed. You and y/n. But Sharon was just standing next to Tony on the other side of the room and was staring at the two of you,” he repeats, telling Bucky what he remembers. Bucky shakes his head, thinking about the version of the party and then the version he heard.
That’s definitely not what he heard about the evening. That’s not even similar to the things someone told him about.
“No, that’s not true,” Bucky says thoughtfully. “But even when, don't you know anymore what she said? She hates me, Steve." Bucky mumbles, and he feels even worse when he thinks about you, the way he treats you, and the things you said to him. Even when he understands it now, he understands why you said those things.
“I need to talk to her,” Bucky mumbles, but then he shakes his head. “Do you think she would listen?” he asks and looks at Steve, who nods.
“She is in love with you. Even when you’re such an idiot,” Steve tells him, pushing his best friend up. “Talk to her, pal,” he says, and Bucky smiles softly before he walks through the door.
He isn’t sure what to say when he talks to you. Maybe you don’t want to listen; maybe you won’t understand. Or do you really hate him now? Do you want to see him? So many thoughts run through his mind while he walks along the floor, unsure what to do or say when you ignore him or if he messed up after all the things with Sharon.
Bucky reaches your door and knocks softly. He hears your softy ‘come in’ and he opens the door. Now it’s too late to turn around; he has to talk to you now. You look at him, and your gaze gets. immediately cold.
“James,” you say, and he shivers slightly.
He didn’t know something inside of him could break more, but when you called him ‘James’ with that cold voice, something inside of him broke more.
“Doll,” he mumbles, closing the door behind him.
“Don’t call me that; call your new fucktoy that,” you hiss, and he looks at the floor.
You’re mad; he has never seen you like that before, but he can’t blame you. You’re hurt, and he is the reason for that. He hurts you so badly, but he loves you so much more than he can ever tell you. He can’t and doesn't want to be without you when there is just a percent chance for him to be yours. He would do everything to be yours.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbles. He hates when you’re so harsh and cold, but he understands it.
“What do you want here?” you ask, and he plays with his hands before he answers.
“I want to talk to you,” Bucky says quietly, and you chuckle sarcastically.
“I don’t want to talk to you, James,” you say, and you see him wiping some tears away.
“Please,” he begs, but you shake your head. “Can you please listen to me? Please?” he tries again, and he doesn’t want to go without telling you everything he feels, everything about the way he acted, especially why he acted like that. “Doll, please listen to me. Just this time, if you want me to go, then I will, and I will never talk to you again if you don’t want me to,” he says and sobs quietly.
You haven’t seen Bucky crying; sometimes he looked like he was about to cry, but he never cried. And now he stands in front of you, begging and crying for you to listen to him. And you want to listen, but the anger inside of you gets in control of you.
“You could have talked to me earlier. I fucking- I don’t care anymore,” you shout, and he flinches.
The strong super soldier looks like a small boy.
“Please, I love-“
“Shut the fuck up. I don’t want to hear all those lies anymore. Just shut up and go with those lies to your new girl,” you say, anger in your voice, and Bucky can’t stop the tears streaming down your cheeks.
He hurt you more than he thought he did. But he was so mad at you; he was mad about the things he heard. And now he is about to lose the most important person in his life. He loves you more than everything; he never loved someone as much as he loves you.
“I’m sorry for hurting you. I really am. I love you,” he whispers, and you shake your head sarcastically, laughing.
“I saw that. You treated me like the worst person you know; that’s love for you?" you ask, and he immediately shakes his head.
“No, but I didn’t know about the things that happened during the party,” he says, and he walks a step closer, slowly, to make sure you’re oke with it.
You want to throw him out of your room, but you also want to know what happened and why he was the way he was. He wouldn’t beg and cry when it wasn't important to him. So you accept when he takes a seat at the edge of your bed and looks at you. His eyes are red, and you can see the traces of his tears on his cheeks.
“I’m so sorry,” he mumbles, still blaming himself for doing all this to you. Bucky wants to touch you; he wants to hug you; and he wishes you would tell him it’s oke. But he knows he needs to explain his behavior before he can get some of that; when you’re ready to do it, then.
“What happened that night?”
He is interested in knowing what happened, and you clear your throat before you think about it again. When he turned into an idiot, you tried to avoid all his touches, his words, and his kisses so you didn’t need to cry all the time. And now he wants to know the truth, and you want to tell him, but you don’t want to cry because of that.
“Thor had some Asgardian alcohol there, and it made you drunk. We danced a bit; you told me you loved me; you kissed me,” you tell him, and he nods.
“You didn’t flirt with someone else?” he asks, and you shake your head.
“No, why should I? I love you, and I was happy you felt the same, but then you acted completely different the next day,” you mumble and look at him.
Bucky is playing with his fingers; you see the way he suffers because of his metal arm, and you remember the things you said about the Winter Soldier, and he probably hates his metal arm even more now.
“Why did you do it the way you did, and why are you suddenly so nice again?” you ask, and his jaw clenches slightly. Not in an angry way, but more in a thoughtful clenching.
“The morning after the party, I had a bad hangover and didn’t remember much of that night. I know that I kissed someone, but I don’t know the person. Sharon came into the room, and she asked me how the party was, and I told her I didn't know because I had too much alcohol. She wrapped her arms around my waist, and when I asked her why she said I kissed her that night,” he tells you, and you nod, blaming yourself for being the same way to Bucky as he was to you, even though it’s not his fault.
“I told her I don’t love her because I love you. And she told me about your night with a guy I don’t know. Sharon said you were flirting with me, but you have someone else, and you were flirting with me so you can make jokes with your boy about me being so dumb and really think you could love me the way I love you,” he continues, and your jaw drops slightly.
“Bu- James, there is no one else. I love you, and when you changed into the idiot you were, I hated the thought of you touching Sharon and the way you kissed her. But when you love me, why did you kiss her?” you ask, and Bucky runs his fingers through his hair.
“I wanted a distraction,” he whispers quietly, ashamed of that.
For a moment, you both sit in silence, looking at each other. “Did you really mean it?” he asks, and you furrow your eyebrows in confusion.
"When you said those things about the Winter Soldier?” He asks, and you see his hands shaking softly. His anxiety gets worse when he thinks about your answer; maybe you could really mean it? Maybe you really think the Winter Soldier could love more than Bucky can?
“No, I was mad. I’m sorry, Buck,” you say, and he nods. You smile softly when he doesn’t tell you to stop calling him ‘Buck’. “I’m really sorry, but I didn’t see how much I would hurt you with that,” you add.
“I think I deserve it,” he replies, and you want to agree, but you also know it would make him feel worse.
He was an idiot, but now that he sits there, he begs and cries that you listen to him so he can excuse his behavior. He blames himself for so much; you don’t want him to blame himself for more.
“Buck?” you ask, and he hums in response. “Tell me the truth, please.”
You look into his eyes; the blue is as warm as the one you’re used to seeing when he is with you.
“I love you, doll. I never wanted to hurt you; I want to be yours. I want you to be mine,” he says, blushing slightly. You don’t know what to say. You want to tell him you feel the same, but at the same time, you’re scared he will go to Sharon when you’re not enough for him anymore. “I’m sorry, you had to listen. But thank you for listening,” he tells you and stands up to leave the room.
You reach for his metal arm, and he flinches when you touch it.
“Sorry,” you say, slightly shocked, and let go of his arm. Bucky turns around and smiles softly.
“Just didn’t think you would touch it.” His voice is so soft, exactly the way you love when he talks to you.
“Can you stay?” you ask and look down; maybe he would prefer to go to Sharon because you were really mean?
Bucky’s smile grows, and he lets himself fall down next to you and wraps his arms around your body, pulling you into his lap. His hands slide your back up and down, and he looks into your eyes like they are the most adorable things he has ever seen. Your arms are wrapped around his neck, and you play with his soft hair.
He leans closer, his lips almost touching yours, when you stop him.
“Did you brush your teeth and clean your face after she kissed you?” you ask with a raised eyebrow, and Bucky can’t stop himself and bursts out laughing.
“Yes,” he whispers, and he places one of his hands on your neck to pull you closer. His lips touch yours softly, and you almost melt in his embrace. Bucky moves his lips against yours, and a small smile appears on his lips.
“I love you, James,” you mumble against his lips, and he rolls his eyes.
“Can you be serious for a moment, doll?” he asks, laughing, and you look like you need to think about it before you answer him.
“I don’t know what you mean, James,” you giggle.
“But I love you too, doll,” he chuckles, pressing his lips on yours again to make you shut up and feel you as close as possible in that moment. He feels complete and comfortable now, being with his girl, the one he loves more than everyone, the one who loved him even when he was the Winter Soldier.
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Taglist: @nicoline1998enilocin | @sergeantbarnessdoll | @km-ffluv | @kandis-mom | @lives-in-midgard | @bucky-barnes-lover | @felicitylemon | @sweater-bee | @identity2212 | @cjand10 | @bookishtheaterlover7 | @harleycao | @buckyalpine (I tag you here because I can’t find the post where you asked for angst oneshots)
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luveline · 5 months
Note
Maybe colt comforting reader when things for her film aren’t going right 🫶🏽🫶🏽
Colt comes to your rescue (clumsily) when you have a hard day. fem!reader, 1k words
Very minor plot spoilers for The Fall Guy (2024) if any
“I think he’s mad at you.” 
You pause where you’d been scrubbing your eyes with your hands, though you don’t look at him. Colt Seavers seems to follow you everywhere you go, and consequently plays witness to your many breakdowns. “Thanks, Colt. That’s astute.” 
“Are you mad at me? Why are you mad at me? It’s been ten seconds,” he complains. He has a unique talent for sounding flirty and needy at once. 
“No, Colt. I’m tired, it’s been a long day.” 
Colt is grinning when you meet his eyes. He has blood, fake or real undetermined, drying in the scruff of his facial hair. You gesture to yourself in a slow circle in the approximate area, to which Colt smiles again. 
“You look perfect,” he says confidently. 
“You have blood in your beard.” 
“Oh, right.” 
You sigh heavily, taking the few paces back to a stack of safety mattresses for a quick break. You’ll get up and help whoever needs helping as soon as you can feel your toes. Colt stays where he is, squinting against the sun, strands of blonde ends kissing his tan forehead. The summer shoots are good for him, he always looks so beachy. You’re exhausted all the time. 
As he notices. “Are you getting enough sleep?” he asks. 
“Yeah.” 
“‘Cos I was sleeping badly and then I got this new mattress that has four hybrid layers, there’s a foam layer, and then there’s titanium springs,” —he sees your distant expression and his own flickers— “anyways, you could try it if you want. Test it out with me. Or– Not with me. With me if you want. We’d have fun. But not with me if you don’t want to.” 
You’d laugh if you had the energy. “Do you wanna sit down?” you ask. 
“God, yes, please.” 
He has another talent for being insanely handsome no matter the day. You look like you’ve been badly rewarmed before serving, where he looks like he rolled out of bed with a smile. He’s smiling at you now, the foolish kind that’ll fluster you if you let him do it for too long. “Stop,” you say quietly. 
“You’re doing amazing.” 
“Thank you. You’re the only person who thinks so, unfortunately.” 
You smile at him weakly. Worried you look pathetic, you turn your face to your lap and clasp your fingers together. 
“That’s not true. Mayview is old-fashioned, that’s all, he was around when they were still killing horses on TV.” 
You grimace. “Yikes.”
“But it’s the modern era. He doesn’t get to make you feel like shit, or I’ll make him feel like shit.” He pretends to charge a sucker punch. 
You lean forward a touch, not quite hugging your knees but tempted to fold in on yourself nonetheless, the heat of the sun a memory on your neck as the evening begins and cloud cover floods in. 
The safety mattresses beneath you squeak and shush against each other. Your weight and Colt’s slides together slowly. He might be pushing himself a little with his boot, but you pretend not to notice as his hand comes to rest between your shoulders. 
“I just can’t do anything right,” you mumble. 
As soon as you’ve said it you’re hoping he can’t hear you, but he does. He might have injured pretty much anything that can be fractured, sprained, or just plain broken, but he has stellar hearing. “You do everything right. You do!” he says, quietly and passionately at once, “They don’t realise it, but you’re the glue keeping this whole thing together.” 
“What are you?” you ask, bemused.
His hand is warm on your shoulder, unafraid where he hesitates to answer, “I don’t know. The test dummy? The guy who gets set on fire a lot?” 
“How is that?” 
“Warm,” he says, beaming, his face so unexpectedly close that you can see the glucose shining in the blood on his cheek. Fake blood. “You wanna try it? I’m sure I could convince the guys.” 
“No, I’m okay.” 
His voice turns silky. “Good, I wasn’t gonna let you anyway.” 
“Let me?” 
“You could get hurt.”
You give in, melted maybe by his warm tones, or exhausted by a day of playing mom for a director who can barely tell his left from his right. Your face presses to his shoulder and your spine sags under his hand, prompting Colt to pull you flush against his side. He always waits for your signals for stuff like this, no matter how desperate he might confess to being. “Can you make them all leave me alone?” you mumble into his jacket, the fabric rough against your nose. 
“Obviously I can, but… We could run away.” 
“Where would we go?” 
“I don’t know. Somewhere sunny. You can rub sunblock on my back, I can hold the umbrella over your head while you read.” 
“They have stands for that sort of stuff. Or you can shove it in the sand, you know.”
“I wanna do something nice for you,” he interrupts, the sound of a smile in his voice as he gives you a friendly jostle. “That’s the point.” 
“You’re plenty nice, Colt.” 
And he is. He saw you were upset and he came jogging upto you valiantly, and your side-armed cuddle is really pushing the pep back into your life. You take a few deep breaths under the weight of his arm before turning to him, brave, ready to go back to work if it means he’s gonna drive you home tonight. “Thank you for caring.” You kiss his cheek, careful of the fake blood. “You’re super nice.” 
You miss the heat of him the second you stand, but there really is work to do. 
“I’m super nice?” he calls. “How nice is super? Nice enough to get another one of those, or what? Are they by the metre?” 
You bite back a smile. 
“Hello? Can you hear me?” He must catch someone’s eye. “She can’t hear me. It’s cool. We like each other.” 
Nobody saves face quite like Colt. 
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jarofstyles · 3 months
Note
quiet yn in a secret relationship with popular football player or frat harry 🤭
Ohhhh let me do a lil of this! Football h 😩
Check out our Patreon
—-
“What are you doing?” Y/N whispered, feeling slight panic as the large palm pushed her further down the hallway. She nearly tripped over her feet as they reached the end, the grip turning possessive as he turned her around and pinned her against his door, fury blazing in his eyes.
“You’re mine, yeah?” He spoke lowly, grit in his voice as he slid his other hand under her hair, squeezing the back of her neck. The little move always made her shiver, the pads of his fingers indenting in the sensitive skin.
“Yeah- what? Whats happening? Why did you drag me away?” Her confusion was evident on her face and it seemed to exasperate him more, leaning his forehead against hers. They were both slightly sweaty from the heat the multitude of bodies brought the house to, but he had led her far away from that.
“Because.” He grunted, the hand on her back hauling her closer to his body. “All those fucking guys were… they were eye fucking you. They were trying to talk to you, trying to get you to fuck them. And since you insist on keeping us a secret… I needed to get you as far away as I could.” His eyes burned into hers, a flash of insecurity making her furrow her brows.
“What? No, no they didn’t want that. They were asking me if I had openings in my photography schedule for them!” She insisted. “They were saying they wanted some photos done in uniform for their instagrams and stuff, they don’t want to fuck me.”
The pure intentions of his girlfriend were not lost on him, but it wasn’t her he was worried about. “Baby…” he sighed, closing his eyes as he shook his head against hers. “No. It’s an excuse to get you alone. We have a team photographer- they don’t need more shots in their uniforms.” He didn’t like this one bit. “They think you’re open for them to hit on. Think you’re a cute, single, fresh little thing. Up for the taking. They don’t know that you’re my girl, that you wear my shirts to bed, that it’s my cock that’s gonna be inside you tonight…” the relationship being a secret was not his choice.
If Harry had it his way, everyone would know she was his girl. There would be no question about who she went home to; whose jersey she would wear as soon as the season started. He’d post her on his social media and he’d kiss her before and after games, he’d brag about her any time he could. She was the hesitant one.
It wasn’t for a lack of appreciation. His girl always told him how much she adored spending time with him, how good he made her feel about herself and how much she adored him in general- but she was anxious about people knowing. Being with a man like him wasn’t the easiest. Women threw themselves at him, media followed him around as an ‘eligible bachelor’, people dug into him, it wasn’t the simplest sort of thing. But he would do anything to protect her from it.
“But you know that.” She whispered, reaching up to caress his cheek. He’d shaven clean this morning but there was the tiniest bit of texture from the regrowth of his beard. “You know I’m yours and that I…” her face was hot as she recalled his last statement. “We do it all together. But I didn’t know.” The realization that it hadn’t been real inquires into her services stung, but she couldn’t really fault them for it. She understood the motive. They truly didn’t know their teammate already had her down, locked in with a master key.
“I know you didn’t, sweetheart.” He sighed, placing a slow kiss on her lips. The vanilla chapstick always did something to him, honestly part of it being making his dick twitch. She tasted so good in every single way you could think of. “I know. You’re genuine and sweet and the guys are… well, they’re dirty. They want the pretty girl in their bed. You’re so incredible. I’d say I can’t blame them, but I can. It isn’t a good look for me t’punch them in their sick little faces but every time they looked you over I wanted to do it.” Harry did have a bit of a violent streak sometimes.
“None of that, please.” She shook her head, yelping slightly as his hand on her back went lower, scooping her up. Her legs wrapped around his waist with her hand falling from his face to grasp his shoulders, her back against the door fully now. “H-H? What the hell are you doing?” The nervous giggle made him groan as he pressed kisses down her cheek, making his way towards her jaw.
“M’reminding myself that you’re mine and that I can do whatever I want with you.” He mumbled against her skin. “And I don’t care if this is my party at my house. M’taking you into the bedroom and M’gonna fuck you and get you nice n’full of me to remind myself even better that you’re my girl.”
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theealbatross · 3 months
Text
marry me (s.s.)
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Plot | The 3 times Sebastian thought about marrying you and the 1 time he asked.
Tags | miscommunication, mentions of murder and poisonings, fluff, implied smut, dangerous idiots in love, fluff, 6k-ish words
A/N: sorry this took so long i went on a vacation! One of the funniest line about Ominis locking the two of them up was written by @/shinzhon in our discord server!
Series Masterlist - the rest of the chapters here
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“Seriously Sebastian, how many times has it been this month?”
“It’s not my fault this time, I swear!”
“So, you slipped and somehow ended up in the Restricted Section? Is there some secret passage I hadn’t known about? Care to share to the class?” Ominis pinned him with a look and despite knowing his friend was blind Sebastian still raised his hands in surrender. Ominis sighed, there was no point really. When he had agreed to be friends with the troublesome boy in their first year he had signed up for this. It’s his fault for not seeing the mischievousness in those innocent brown eyes.
“I’m surprised,” Ominis continued as he started the trek back to their common room, the painful small talks he had with the headmaster in order to prevent anything getting sent to Solomon already fading as he got further away from the office. He could only imagine the absolute hell the old man would’ve sent their way if he had heard of his rendezvous in the Restricted Section. “It just isn’t like you.”
Sebastian scoffed, “To be in the Restricted Section? Where have you been the past year?”
“No, you idiot,” he hissed. “It isn’t like you to be caught.”
The falter in Sebastian’s steps had him raising an eyebrow, neck snapping back in accusation. “I’ve been caught once,” Sebastian reminded him quickly of the time Scribner first put the anti-Alohamora charm in the doors of the Restricted Section.
"I'm not finished," He’s hiding something. “It isn’t like you to be caught twice.”
He stopped on his track at the sound of Sebastian’s wince. “Okay, don’t be mad –”
“Oh no.”
“The new fifth-year needed some help to get in the restricted section because – well, I actually can’t tell you, she made me swear – and it’s bigger than the both of us and it was going so well! But Peeves caught just as we were about to –”
“Honestly, Sebastian, enough!”
He didn’t need to hear any of this.
Sebastian was right. Whatever great big mess that new kid was in the middle of was bigger than the both of them. And he has had more than enough on his plate trying to keep his friend out of trouble without the additional presence of another mysterious adrenaline junkie being thrown in the mix – one who was worryingly a magnet for big trouble. It was no wonder Sebastian was transfixed; he was looking at the damn mirror.
“Whatever fascination you have with that girl ends now,” It doesn’t escape him how much he sounded like a father getting in-between two lovers. He would’ve laughed in incredulity at the current situation he had found himself in if he wasn’t so bloody frustrated. “You get in enough trouble on your own, she doesn’t need to be sucking you up in her own problems.”
Sebastian makes a sound that doesn’t sound like a ‘yes, Ominis’ and the blond’s blood vessels nearly pop. He cannot believe this.
“Come on, it wasn’t like that. Honestly, she was brilliant! You should’ve been there; she took to the Disillusionment spell so quick that if we hadn’t let out guard down, we –”
“Oh, Merlin’s Beard, why don’t you marry the damn girl and the both of you leave me out of your tomfooleries!”
That would be ideal, he thinks. In a perfect world, he’s going to lock the two of them in a room and eat the key. There he would have no daily nuisances, won’t have to worry about sneaky Slytherins and the explosion of troubles they bring with them, and won’t need to suffer through Headmaster Black’s presence to get them out of it. A thankless job that brought nothing but headaches.
It was only when he was out of his blissful reverie that he realized his headache had stopped walking behind him seemingly lost in his own thoughts.
No.
“Sebastian … “
The other boy audibly flinched, his breath now irregular, and Ominis will bet all the galleons in the Gaunt’s vault that if he could see his old friend’s face would be as red as a Gryffindor’s arse right now.
He could almost cry, his palms producing embarrassing cold sweats at the absolute worst-case scenario unfolding in front of his unseeing eyes. “Please – I am begging you – not this one.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Oh no, no, no.
Suddenly, the prospect of Sebastian and this troublemaker getting together was not that idyllic. In quick successions, all possible worst-case scenario popped in Ominis head. Sebastian was bad enough, if he had someone who was equally as reckless and rash as him it would be something out of his worst nightmare.
Ominis is a good person. This can’t be happening to him.
“Sebastian, listen to me –”
With only a breeze as his answer Sebastian skipped right past Ominis and up the grand staircase. Ominis could feel the heat of his face. “No time to talk. Got somewhere to be –”
“Sebastian, no!”
Why must it keep happening to him?
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Sebastian was pretty sure the house in Feldcroft has not heard Anne’s laughter in a long, long time. Yet, here you were, huddled together with his sister, whispering giggle-worthy stories about him no doubt by the way your gaze kept fluttering back to him, and lifting the dreadful ooze that has monopolized the small space since his sister’s illness.
“Nice girl,” He had nearly jumped out of his skin when he realized his uncle had been sitting on the spare bed hidden by a curtain.
“Y-Yeah,” Merlin’s beard you even got his unpleasant uncle’s favor in such a short time – a miracle worker, truly. “She’s … quite something.”
Talking to him has always been awkward.
Even before Anne had gotten sick, he found it difficult to converse with the man who looked too much but was simultaneously nothing like his gentle, kind father. And maybe it was also the childish insistence that if he had let the man into his heart, he would betray his parents – his father – that he just couldn’t let him in. It would feel too much like replacing him so he just opted in letting Solomon linger at the precipice of his life and the man was more than happy to do so.
After all, if Solomon was nothing like his father, Sebastian was everything that reminded Solomon of his dead brother. And those were holes none of them could fill for each other.
“You know, your mother was the same,” Sebastian’s eyebrows raised, never hearing Solomon talk about her till now. “When she was a 7th year I was just starting in Hogwarts and let me tell you, I had little hope for that brother of mine of ever getting her attention.”
His uncle continued to stare at you like he was seeing a ghost – the good kind – not the kind he sees when he looks at him. “She was brilliant, loved by even the firmest professors. And was always willing to hold out a helping hand, even to lost first years whose ass of a brother left to go fend for himself in the confusing moving stairs of Hogwarts.”
Even Sebastian let out a chuckle at that ridiculous image. Sometimes he forgets that even his old uncle had once been a child. The thought is uncomfortable, especially looking at the man he is now. “I always told him he was out of his mind for courting your mother but did my crazy brother listen? Absolutely not.”
Where was he going with this?
Sebastian returned his eyes back to you.
Brilliant, admirable, courageous you.
With your bright smile that feeds his ego by always shining brighter with him. The recklessness that never fails to infuriate and impress on his last nerves. The kindness you innately had in you that makes him want to wrap you up in the finest silk then lock you up in an impenetrable room so nobody else may ever touch it – so nobody else may have you.
That would be best, he thinks.
“It would seem even that insanity he had passed on to you.”
Sebastian’s eyes widened, forcing himself to take slow, deep breaths so all his blood doesn’t go to his face, unable to look at the older man. “It’s not like that,” he cleared his throat, now unable to look at you. “We’re … friends.”
“A good … companionship is built upon friendship,” Sebastian’s head whipped to this uncle as if to say ‘how would you know?’ but his uncle just grunted, shrugging before standing up to busy himself in the kitchen, calling you out to assist and telling Anne to take her medicine.
A good companionship. He knows it’s a bit too early but the thought of it wasn’t as horrifying as he thought it would be. The budding interest he had in his new friend was pushed and shoved into the deepest nook of his brain – he had more pressing things to tend to, one that was more important than discerning why he could recognize the sound of her laughter in the middle of dinner in the Great Hall.
But if he really thinks about it, takes a moment to breathe and considers it … it would be nice. She’s had research interest but with her grades and skill being a renowned curse-breaker or even an auror isn’t out of the question. If he works hard, he knows he’d be able to keep up and support her and Anne – maybe even set up an apartment in the city, they can just visit his sister when they have the chance.
Of course,he will try to encourage her to settle back down in Feldcroft if Anne still lives here but Irondale is quite beautiful too, a good place to practice flying when they have a family, let his children experience a true childhood surrounded by peace and quiet – two kids would be nice. Twins run in the family so maybe he could convince her for another one if their first pair are of the same gender. He would really like a daughter who looks just like --
 “I like her.”
“Bloody hell!” Sebastian jumped when he realized his twin sister was now right in front of him while he was deep in his embarrassing delusions. (When did the members of his family become so sneaky?) She grinned at him as if she knew exactly what had him so distracted. To avoid her piercing stare, he wrapped his arms around her shoulders as he guided her in the little nook of her bedroom where all the vials full of her medicines were stored.
“I knew you would. ‘s why I brought her here.”
“Oh?” Anne nonchalantly drank a disgusting-looking fluid in one gulp. “So, it wasn’t cause you wanted to monopolize her and get ahead of your competition back at Hogwarts?”
Sebastian gawked, his entire body heating up from the accusation. “What – no, it’s not – I thought she would cheer you up!”
He quickly took a quick peek at the corner, relieved that you were too busy charming his uncle off to hear such absurd allegations against him. He wouldn’t want you to get the wrong impression of him at all. After all, for how wondrous those visions are, he puts your friendship on a pedestal above anything else.
He thinks he’ll be more than content to be just your friend. Maybe.
“How gracious of you, brother,” Anne smirked, in this light it was almost like the old Anne.
Sebastian smirked at her, masking indifference, “I try.”
He should’ve known. Anne would be the one who might just see through all of him, even the things he likes to keep from his head. Even his most impossible dreams of cozy cottages and soft days.
“Sebastian!” The twins straightened up at your voice, both felt like they had been caught red-handed as you cheerfully rounded the corner. “Oh, was I interrupting –”
“No, not at all!” Anne pushed Sebastian firmly, making him stumble and catch himself just as he was about to crash into you. The proximity forces him to stare as your eyes crinkled when you smiled. He stops breathing.
You’ll look dazzling in white; he thinks.
“Your uncle told me your neighbor had some mint in their garden, said you could help me find it? It would go well with the juice.”
Sebastian’s eyes fell to your lips as you spoke before physically ripping his eyes out to look at your eyes, nodding, as his brain tried to keep up between his imagination and the reality of your face in front of his.  You grinned, already walking towards the door. He lets out a breath, the faint traces of your perfume that he gave you wafting an enchanting trail that kept his gaze on your retreating back.
“Get on with it,” Anne pushed him again and this time he gave her his deadliest glare as he followed after you. “You can’t hide her in Feldcroft forever.”
“Zip it.”
Solomon stood next to Anne as they stared at the two sweethearts in their own worlds as they made an adventure out of the small trip. Anne couldn’t help but giggle when Sebastian tripped because he was too busy looking at you instead of the road.
“Are men always this stubborn and stupid?”
“No,” Solomon grumbled, heart aching fondly when in a blink he could almost see a different mirage of figures that were both familiar and strangers at the same time. “He’s just his father’s son.”
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“It’s over.”
Sebastian turned his head, straying his eyes away from the night sky framed by the room’s glass ceiling to look at you.  “It’s over.”
The two of you lay down on the floor of the room of requirement, sneaking away from the graduation party to spend the last moments of your life as a student in Hogwarts together. It wasn’t intentional, you had sneaked out for a proper goodbye to the sentient room and thanked it for everything it had provided for you but, like always, Sebastian had gotten ahold of your sneaking form before you could take two steps away from his side.
Sebastian can see that the inevitability of it all is making you emotional, a Hogwarts-shaped hole already forming in the crevices of your heart. The thought of no longer having this haven to escape the world's cruel realities makes him sigh.
“I’m terrified,” your whispered confession surprised him.
His gallant darling? Scared?
“What for?”
You smiled at him sheepishly. “It feels stupid but … I’m scared of things changing. I feel like that little girl again – 15 years old and alone in this great, big world I was thrust into.” Sebastian noticed a shudder crawl over your body. “And this time I won’t have a cheeky Slytherin lad to show me around.”
Sebastian frowned, unsure if he was more disappointed at you for thinking you would lose him that easily or at himself for not nailing that the two of you were tethered forevermore in that bright head of yours.
Instead, he took your shaking hands that you tried to hide and held on to it tight.
You smiled up at him. “Promise to stay in touch?”
He could almost scoff at such an understatement of a request. Do you know I’m never letting you go?
“You’re not getting away from me that easily,” he grinned, hoping to charm the rest of your remnant fears away. “I expect weekly letters while I’m away from training.”
You scrunched your nose, which he thinks is just adorable “What? So you can brag to your fellow trainees you have a lovesick lady waiting for you at home?”
He laughed at that, eyes crinkling and heart racing, “Maybe I should keep a photo of you plastered on my wall then, really commit to the part. A pretty face like you on my walls should make me the envy of my entire group.”
Her laugh came out nervous, her grip on his hands tightened. She’s still scared.
If only he had been sorted in Gryffindor maybe then he would’ve been daring enough to say something. To fall to his knees in this room and let his forehead kiss the ground and beg you to stay with him, run away with him, marry him. To let him spend the rest of his lowly life making sure you will never be lonely again.
But the fates were cruel and for all his pretense of confidence, the gods’ honest truth is he is a coward. A coward with no prospects.
If he wants your hand he needs to prepare, to follow the plan he had mapped out since the night he had realized he would very much like to spend the rest of his life with you or die trying. He might not be worth anything for now but he’ll make himself enough.  He just needs to hold on … just two more years – it’s all he asks.
Just two years for him to establish himself, to become someone, to earn the right to ask you. He knows it will be hard, you’ll be engrossed in your own research and won’t be able to see him as he trains to be an auror. And there was always a risk of you meeting someone else but he’s already made Poppy swear to report everything to him while she accompanies you in your travels, a contingency plan for any hurdle that may put a wrench in his plans.
If all of this fails then so be it, but he won’t lose you from a lack of planning or trying.
“Why are you looking at me like that?
He didn’t realize he was staring at you while his thoughts ran wild. The dark of your eyes reflected the ceilings you had charmed with the sky of the Forbidden Forest. The dim hue of the room made you look ethereal, like a forest fairy sent to lead him to a beautiful doom. He’d follow you anywhere.
Is it too soon to tell you I love you?
Is it too late?
“Have I ever told you that you’re the only one I need?” Sebastian suddenly whispered, vulnerable.
It’s the closest thing he’ll allow himself to say for now, placating the intensity of his need to be close to you by properly laying on his side and pressing a firm hand on your cheeks as you followed his lead, your own loosely dangling on his waist.
“Don’t you think Ominis will be quite offended by that?” you teased, your fingers tracing patterns on his spine.
He couldn’t help but match your grin, “He’ll live.”
“Sebastian,” your words quiet but he moved his hand at the back of your head to pull you in closer, muffling your following words on his chest. “Promise me nothing will change?”
Sebastian’s hold on you tensed, pressing the gentlest kiss at the top of your head to silence his protests.
No, he wants to scream. Everything has to change.
He’ll change everything for you.
“I promise,” he lies.
He’s no Gryffindor, after all.
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[ 5 years later ]
“I almost fucking killed you!”
You rolled your eyes, which was a bad idea considering the curse that malfunctioned in Gringott’s brought upon a gaggle of Inferis along with a mutated one that grew about ten feet tall. Before it could lunge straight at your head, Sebastian – Merlin’s beard, he was still as handsome as the day you had left Hogwarts – pulled you into him before casting a Protego followed by a Confringo, blasting the undead’s arm away.
Still his favorite after all these years.
“What? You become a bigshot Auror and forget my face?!”
With an Incendio, the rest of the Inferis were now weakened enough that Sebastian was able to finish them all in one go (bloody hell!). Giving you time to gather yourself and lash out a heavy burst of ancient magic to take care of the giant Inferi once and for all.
You wobbled from the effort but firm hands and a chest caught you. When you looked up you were greeted by a cantankerous Sebastian covered in dust and dirt.
“As if I could see your face in those ridiculous glasses you’re wearing. Is that a lizard’s eye?”
You pulled on the offending thing, turning and standing on your tiptoes to put it on him, then he could see that it helps with seeing the traps laid out around the vault. “Satisfied your inquiries, Mr. Auror?”
He pushed the glasses to the top of his head, still looking down at you with a suspicious glare. Damn him and damn the entire male race for their inability to stop growing their limbs. “I should have you arrested. Illegally breaking into Gringots? What were you thinking?”
“Please, any curse-breaker you sent this way would’ve been eaten by that curse, I barely got out with my life if not for my ancient magic.”
Sebastian’s eyebrows twitched in the familiar way when he wasn’t particularly fond of you – which usually only happens when you throw yourself in danger … like today. Old habits die hard.
“I –”
“Save it,” he raised a palm. You sucked your lips into a thin line comically – it has been half a decade since you last saw him after all, you’re not entirely quite sure If this Sebastian in front of you would hesitate in throwing his prodigal best friend into the cold stone walls of a ministry ordained prison. “You owe me.”
Before he could, you fired off a blast of ancient magic behind him, crushing the lone Inferi that was bidding its time under a rock. You smirked. “Are we even now?”
“Not even fucking close,” His face was blank, unamused. Sebastian’s patience has never been the longest but this is one of the few times his ire was aimed at you, the novelty of it would make you blush if you weren’t so guilty. “Where have you been?”
This time it was your smile that fell, eyes dropping with it in shame. Straight to it, huh.
“Sebastian … I left a lett –“
“A letter! You call that a letter?!” He guffawed, turning his back on you and started pacing just at the ledge that led to a very, very, long fall to the bottom of Gringotts. Your fingers twitched to reach out for him but you had a feeling he wasn’t particularly interested in getting mothered right now as he spiraled out the words you’re sure he had surely been holding the past years. “My dearest friend, one who fights trolls for practice and is the most wanted woman of all dark wizards in the country disappears without a trace even when I spent an entire year searching for her –”
He looked for you?
“—but oh no! All is well Sebastian, she left you a bloody note!”
You felt like a reprimanded toddler but maybe (just maybe) you deserved it. “It wasn’t my finest moment.”
Something in your words snapped the last of Sebastian’s nerve. The gall of you – to stand here like it was nothing. The days he had spent tracking you, dreading the moment he would be greeted by your corpse.
How dare you leave? How dare you leave him? Of all the people in this world you were the one who was supposed to stay on his side.
‘I’ll be back. I promise. I just need time’
He marched to where you were standing, cupping both of your shoulders so you can look at him. “I will be given an explanation.”
Instead, your eyes fell on his left hand. He followed your line of sight, the gold band around his finger making all your cruelest nightmares come true.
How did it come to this? You scoured your memories of your entire friendship – how had the two of you come from being unable to keep a single secret from each other to strangers that have too many unspoken grievances in between them?
Was this inevitable?
Finally, you gathered your strength. He did deserve the truth from you of all people. And you could truly never keep a secret from Sebastian even now – which is also why you left. The shame, the unjustified anger, the hurt in your chest when you looked at him – you couldn’t handle it.
“I … I heard from Leander.”
His frown deepened. What does Leander have anything to do with this?
“I was going to visit you on the last weekend of your training. Then Leander caught me in town and he said … he said that after you had finished your auror training you were planning to propose, that you were already looking for a ring.”
He is going to kill that orange blabbermouth fuc –
“I couldn’t – surely, you couldn’t be that daft. I … I loved you, Sebastian! And I know I’m your friend and I should’ve been there for you. And I really am – I am happy for you,” you took his hand, your gentle touch shakily running through the gold band around his ring finger as you tried to hold back the tears. It felt like it was mocking you, like it could burn a mark on your skin. “If anyone deserves to build a family it would be you. I just … in that moment I couldn’t be happy for you. I needed to remove myself from the situation and I couldn’t say goodbye – you wouldn’t have let me! I panicked and I was hurt and … I really am sorry. I’m so sorry, Sebastian.”
As humiliating as it was to say all the hurt that you were carrying with you as you traveled the world to escape your love for him it did make you feel lighter. Were you a coward? Maybe so. But you will not shame your past self for what she did out of hurt and fear. It was painful but necessary.
It wasn’t until Sebastian was cupping your face and wiping your cheeks with his thumb that you realized you had been crying.
“Darling, who did you think the ring was for?”
You blinked, “What?”
You could tell he was trying to lengthen his patience with you, clearly as he was the more emotionally stable one at the moment even though it looked like he was at the precipice of choking you. "Have I ever told you that I was courting anyone?”
The conversation was taking a turn you weren't expecting. “N-No, but Leander and Everett used to keep teasing you about the Ministry girls that was always at your tail so I just assumed …”
He raised his eyebrows, holding onto your cheeks tighter so you had to look at him. For the first time in your entire friendship, you couldn’t read him at all. “I assumed you became interested in one of them.”
He sighed, “No, sweetheart. I did not become interested in any of them.”
You frowned, still feeling the cold ring on your cheek. “Then who did you marry?”
“I’m … not married.” This time it was him who seemed to blush, actually breaking eye contact to chuckle. When he looked back at you it was like you were getting a peek of the boyish Sebastian you once knew. “I would have been if the beautiful witch I had been chasing did not disappear on me right when I was about to propose.”
His words sunk into you like molasses, the wrinkle in between your eyebrows disappearing as your eyes widened in realization. Surely, he doesn’t mean –
“I just wore it since I would’ve been wearing it either way if someone had said yes. And it’s a more effective way to ward off any hopefuls. A little white lie to cover up my bruised heart and spare their egos”
“Wait, wait –“you tried to push him away but one of his arms just wrapped around your back, pushing your chest to his. He wasn’t going to let you get away this time, if he has to cast a binding spell on you without your knowledge then so be it.
The past five years had been torture enough.
“I guess it’s what I deserved. Letting the love of my life wait around just because my pride wanted me to earn the right to ask for her hand. The Hero of Hogwarts, the brightest witch of our age – surely, I couldn’t just ask her, could I?”
The abundance of information threatened to drown your head in. Pieces of the grand puzzle that never seemed to fit right clicking and clacking in your head as you slowly pieced together the blanks in the history of your relationship because you didn’t bother to ask and he didn’t bother to say anything.
He means you right? He was going to propose to you? The bloody ring you’ve been having nightmares about was for you?!
But he had never … I mean sure you flirted here and there but it was nothing … official. No words were ever shared, no announcements, nor formality.
It was all very … murky and ambiguous.
“Hey, back to me, darling,” he gently pressed his thumb that was still holding on to your cheek. “I swear even when we’re together it’s like you’re still running away.” As if suddenly lost in thought himself he murmured, “Should I charm a chain on you, after all?”
You blinked and the dark glint in his eyes that you had only seen in his darkest moments in your fifth year disappeared, now replaced with a small cheeky smile.
“Sebastian, the ring was it – surely it wasn’t –”
“For you?” He was so close now that you could count all the freckles in his face, his lips running through your cheeks, even pressing a kiss on your temple. “Then riddle me this, my love – if not for you then who else would it be for? Hmm? Who else would I be begging to be my wife if not my most treasured friend? The one person who stood beside me through it all?”
Another kiss on your cheeks. “The only light in my life?”
The underside of your jaw. “The beautiful witch who had rudely stolen my heart when we were children then had the nerve to run away with it just as I was able to gather all the courage I had to ask for hers in return?”
He moved both of his hands to wrap around your waist, pulling and pulling and pulling as if he wanted to meld the two of you together. “Who else but you? There was and would’ve been nobody else but you.”
A shadow of a kiss at the edge of your lips. “You’re the only woman I have ever loved.”
Your heart threatens to explode.
“And you’re the only one I will ever love,” he whispered, but the quiet of the caves of Gringotts made his voice echo inside your overheating skull.
You had been aware of Sebastian’s charms when you were younger but now that he was using his pretty face and raspy voice at its full extent while professing his love for you in the murky caves of Gringotts and pieces of Inferi corpses scattered on the ground – you could almost feel your brain malfunctioning.
“I had resigned myself to a life of isolation if you had never come back,” he declared. “But you did. Why?”
He was not going to accept anything less than the truth. The intensity behind his eyes, the grip he has around you was so firm you were almost hanging off the ground. The unbearable weight of your guilt for almost driving this man to insanity even if it had not been your intention had you letting go of your defenses.
“Because I missed you,” you admitted, eyes looking straight at him to finally bare your soul. “And I couldn’t find anything the world could offer that could compare to you. Even if we just remained friends I –”
His chuckle cut you off.
“We could never just be friends,” he whispered, you couldn’t agree more. “We were never just friends. Darling, I’m not a religious man but if soulmates are real then yours and mine have always been tied to each other. And if whatever god is up there was cruel enough not to have done that then I would’ve knotted it myself.”
You giggle through your tears – you had played out so many fantasies of Sebastian’s confessions and yet now that you were living your wildest dreams it felt like your heart was trying to escape your chest.
“If you hadn’t come back, it would’ve done nothing short of killing me, you have to know that,” a ragged breath escapes him as if the mere memory of your escape were enough to cause him physical pain. “Because I love you and I have always loved you even back when I didn’t know what love is. Even when love was a mere flutter in my chest every time I looked at you. Even when I was a fool in a path to destruction I … I have always, always loved you.”
You nodded, almost gasping at the intensity of his words. “I love you too, Sebastian. So much. I would’ve always come back. I couldn’t – I would’ve honestly poisoned your wife if you had married another.”
A laugh exploded out of his mouth at your sudden proclamation, echoing through the eerie corners of the caves. “And I had more than enough daydreams of torturing any lovers you might’ve taken in your travels.” The sickly-sweet tone that contrasted such horrid words had you giggling.
“Think we should stick to each other then?” You roped an arm around his neck, letting him carry your dead weight. “Spare some poor suckers from poisons and murders.”
He grinned, leaning in closer and closer, “You always had been the one with bright ideas.”
You smiled just as he finally pressed his lips into yours. Even your wildest dream couldn’t compare to this. Sebastian’s greedy grip on your waist, his familiar scent, his taste – him. It wasn’t perfect – a bit too rough, too needy yet somehow never enough – it was better, a perfect amalgamation of your entire relationship.
“Marry me,” he commanded in between kisses, too desperate to separate from you for more than a second. “Tell me you’ll have me.”
“You’re mine,” You gasp when he suddenly turned you around and pressed you on the jagged wall of the cave. “Always been mine.”
You’ve never not been mine.
Suddenly, Sebastian ended your kisses, a whine slipping out of your throat which he placated with a quick peck before he haphazardly pulled a necklace of some kind around his neck, snapping it to let the pendant fall into his palms.
Only it wasn’t a pendant. It was a ring. The ring.
“Oh my, Sebastian,” your vision blurs with tears as he gently takes your shaking hand, slipping the beautiful jewelry on your ring finger where it shall sit forever. “It’s beautiful. I can’t wait to marry you.”
He groaned, pressing his forehead to your temple as you continued to admire the ring on your finger.
“You keep buttering me up like this and I’ll have to kidnap the first priest I see when we get out of here.”
“I wouldn’t object to that, we’ve never been one for propriety.”
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“I can’t believe we had our first kiss in Gringott’s of all places,” he muttered, the vibration of his voice tickling your chest as he buries his face in it.
“That wasn’t my first kiss.”
That had his head snapping, eyes murderous at your words. "What?”
“It wasn’t yours either.”
“Huh.”
You nodded slowly, not breaking eye contact as he tries to scour through his memories.
“Remember our fight in the Room of Requirement? About the Triwizards game?”
He winced. “I’d rather not remember that.”
You shrugged. “Suit yourself.”
You settled back, knowing him well enough to know his mind was rapidly working through his memories to figure out the cryptic declaration you had confessed.
It had been frustrating when you had remembered such important event days after it happened. All it had taken was a faint whiff of Sebastian’s shampoo in your pillow in the room of requirement before you were shooting up in your bed at the memories trickling in your brain as you tried to figure out if it had been one of your more apparent daydreams only to scream when you had realized it had happened and the two of you completely forgot about it.
You had become wary of Sebastian then, staring and studying his face at any hint that he also had the luck of remembering such bold confessions from you. You aren’t sure if you were more relieved or disappointed when he showed no inkling of gaining the curse of such knowledge like you.
But at your sudden engagement to him, you believe you have suffered enough of such vexations alone. You are to be married after all which means the two of you shall share every burden from now on -- even the most embarrassing and frustrating ones.
Sebastian’s muscles locked, pushing himself up to cage you in bed as his frantic eyes widened.
You grin. He remembers.
“No fucking way.”
“Yes way.”
He slumps back down in your chest, groaning. “Are you sure you're okay with marrying a bloody idiot?”
Your body shakes with laughter. “Lucky for you, idiots are just my type.”
410 notes · View notes
dirtyvulture · 5 months
Text
Envy and Venom - Part 2
Heiress!Natasha Romanoff x CEO!Beefy!Fem!Reader
18+ only, read at your own risk
Summary: You are the notorious playboy who just inherited one of the biggest tech companies in the world. Your first move? Sleeping with the heiress of your rival company.
Word count: 4911
AN: Didn't think I'd write this, but the opportunity was too good to let pass. :)
Click here for Part 1!
DAY 2
“I can’t believe you,” Tony says, watching as you anxiously like a caged animal. “I mean, I can, because Romanoff is smoking hot, but really? On your first day?”
“I didn’t know who she was!” you snap, your stomach churning in knots. You hadn’t been able to eat breakfast, even ignoring the hot black coffee your secretary Wanda had waiting for you like usual when you arrived to the office.
“Literally the daughter of the guy of our biggest rival,” Tony says, clearly only trying to make you feel worse than you already feel.
“I know who he is!” you bark, well familiar with Alexei Shostakov, the enormous, bearded and beer-bellied Russian who had once been on the board of directors at Envy Industries. Alexei was long gone from your dad’s company by the time you entered the scene, and at that point had formed Black Widow Corporation into a juggernaut. Word on the street was that Alexei used “unconventional methods” to stay ahead of competitors and now you wondered if you had fallen right into one of those traps. 
“Why was Romanoff even at the party in the first place?” you ask.
“Why do you think?” Tony scoffs. “Daddy probably sent her to mess with you and no offense…but it worked.”
“We don’t know that,” you defend, although your gut is telling you that Tony is right. 
“So, what did you tell her?” Tony asks, kicking his chair back to wobble on its hind legs.
“Nothing!” You sigh, your brain scrambling to remember your interaction with Natasha before you took her up to your suite. “Uh, I mean…I mentioned the contract we have with Tesla. But a bunch of other people probably overhead too, and that’s not exactly a secret anymore.”
“Mhmm, sure. Anything else?” Tony prompts.
“No. No, nothing else,” you say with an edge of uncertainty. “There wasn’t really much time for talking, if you know what I mean.”
“Yeah, I know you, you horndog.” He waves at you.
For once, you feel immensely guilty about not being able to control your behavior. This wouldn’t be the first time you had to face the consequences of the people you chose to take to bed with you, but none had been this jarring or dangerous. You feel used, even though you truly hadn’t revealed any company secrets to Natasha. Just the thought that she knew who you were, and wasn’t honest with you about herself, made your whole interaction with her feel slimy and fake. While you also knew it was ridiculous to think that you were in love with someone you just met, even you won’t deny there had been some kind of spark between you two, but perhaps it had all been manufactured. 
You genuinely want to see Natasha again, hopefully in more honest circumstances, and not just purely for the physical pleasure of it. You knew she was one of the few women on Earth who truly understood your line of work. She didn’t need to pretend (or even study ahead) like some of the partners you had in the past. She was beautiful and smart and managed to turn you into a stuttering, whipped mess in less than ten minutes. No one else had ever been able to do that, and as humbling as it was, it was also hot as hell.
“What am I supposed to do now?” you ask, pulling at the suffocating collar of your shirt. 
“First of all, don’t see her ever again,” Tony responds, and it sounds like he’s telling you you’re not allowed to breathe anymore.
“Fuck,” you grumble, because you know he’s right, but it won’t be that easy to just forget about Natasha. 
“Seriously, Y/N,” Tony goes on. “You have a whole company to run now. Let the media say what they want, but promise me that you won’t be caught with that woman ever again.”
“Caught, you say?” you tease, knowing that he would always offer you a way out.
“I know you,” he repeats. “Besides, I heard she has a sister.”
You laugh, the tense mood lightening considerably. “Yeah, sure, I’ll put in a good word for you when I see her again.”
“You’re the best.” Tony stands up to give you a high-five.
***********************************************************************
Natasha hums to herself as she opens her laptop. She plugs in her headphones and boots up the application that is connected to the microphone she slipped into your jacket pocket. Over 12 hours of audio have already been recorded. Just out of curiosity, she scrolls to the first hour.
“Look how wet you are. You’ve been waiting for this all night, sweetheart?”
“Shut up and let me fuck you.”
Natasha feels her core light up with desire as she remembers the previous night with you. It had been a long time since she had been fucked so well and you certainly lived up to the hype. When she closes her eyes, she can still remember how your body had felt against hers, the way your muscles flexed in warning when you were about to finish but were waiting for her permission, the intoxicating taste that coated her tongue and had her (quite literally) demanding more and more from you.
“Hey, sestra.” Yelena walks in without knocking, and Natasha’s eyes snap open, tearing off her headphones and closing the audio application.
“What?” she growls, annoyed by the interruption.
Yelena smirks at her. “How was the party last night?”
“Good.”
Yelena doesn’t look convinced. “Did you see that TMZ article?”
“Anyone who relies on that hack as a legitimate source of information is just setting themselves up for disappointment.”
“A picture is worth a thousand words,” Yelena states, walking up to Natasha and showing her her phone. 
New CEO of Envy Industries Y/N spotted getting cozy with Black Widow Corp. heiress Natasha Romanoff 
Below the headline is a grainy photo of her almost sitting on your lap, both of your heads leaned close together. 
“What’s your point?” Natasha asks, pushing Yelena’s phone away from her face.
“Did Dad approve of this?”
“What does his approval have to do with anything?” Natasha snaps. “I’m a grown woman, I can do whatever I want with whoever I want–”
“We’re not stupid, Natasha,” Yelena frowns. “And you aren’t either. You aren’t getting mixed up with just anyone, this is the CEO of Envy Industries–”
Natasha waves her hand. “Just stop, Yelena. I know what I’m doing, okay? And I’m the one who’s going to take over the company when Dad steps down, so I need to make sure that we are on top and stay that way.”
Yelena’s expression softens. “Just be careful, sestra. You don’t know what some of these people are capable of.”
“Like Y/N?” Natasha laughs. “She’s just a big rich idiot. I could steal her entire company right from under her nose and she’d just go fill her bed with Victoria’s Secret models and forget it by the next morning.”
“Please be careful, Nat,” Yelena begs. “Do not forget what happened last time–”
“That was in the past. I know better now,” Natasha dismisses, although the hair on the back of her neck rises at the memory. She had been too cocky, too arrogant, and nearly lost her life as a result. But she was certain that wouldn’t happen with you. She had you eating out of the palm of her hand even before the mind-blowing sex. You’d happily hand her the keys to Envy Industries if she promised you five minutes in bed. 
“Don’t worry about me,” Natasha gruffs, turning back to her computer. “Close the door on your way out.”
Yelena doesn’t respond and backtracks. Natasha waits until she hears the click of her door to open the files on her flash drive that contains the data stolen from your systems. None of your files are even password-protected. Maybe your company was even more of a joke than she thought.
***********************************************************************
DAY 14
Tesla backs out of contract with Envy Industries, reportedly in talks with Black Widow Corporation for GPUs
DAY 15
Envy Industries (ENVY) stock drops 15%
Black Widow Corporation (BWC) stock up 10%
DAY 18
Tesla hires Black Widow Corporation to produce hardware for upcoming Model 2
DAY 24
Black Widow Corporation announces AI supercomputer project
DAY 30
Black Widow Corporation (BWC) joins the Magnificent Seven stocks, knocking Envy Industries (ENVY) out
“You need to fix this. Now.”
“I’m trying!” you practically sob, staring at the same headline on your computer that your father is looking at. 
Your first 30 days as CEO had been an absolute whirlwind–of defeats. First, an intern at Tesla had called you to tell you the deal was off. And then to hear that they were taking up business with Black Widow Corporation was like a sucker punch to the gut. No one at your company could understand how Black Widow suddenly had the technology you’d been working on for months, but a nagging feeling in the back of your head told you that you were the only person who knew the answer.
But you couldn’t be one-hundred-percent sure. After all, you had spent one night with Natasha Romanoff, most of it in bed with her getting your brains fucked out. But she had left even before you woke up, and there was no way to confirm if she had managed to get her hands on the confidential information that your company was built upon.
Whatever had happened, Envy Industries was on a steady decline ever since you had taken over and it was not a good feeling. The stock prices were tanking and now you had lost your spot amongst the prized “Magnificent Seven”–also known as the seven highest-valued companies in the United States. It was embarrassing, shameful, and upsetting. The board of directors were having daily meetings about your leadership qualities and you were worried they would boot you from the position any day now. Your father still had some influence, despite stepping down, but with the way he was speaking to you now, you weren’t sure he was going to defend you anymore.  
“I don’t care how Black Widow Corp got the intel. They have it now and we can’t get it back. You need to raise security protocols and if anyone is caught leaking information, they will be publicly humiliated and sued to kingdom come,” your dad rages through the phone. 
“Yes, yes, I agree,” you say.
“You need to focus on recovering from this. What’s done is done. But if you let it get worse, there will be severe consequences. For the company, for its future, and for you.”
“Yes. Yes, Dad,” you gulp.
“Stop fucking around and get your shit together,” he says. “You have a reputation that precedes you and thousands of people are depending on you to see them through this. Envy will come back. Promise me.”
“I promise,” you repeat hollowly, not even convinced of your own words.
“Good girl. We’ll talk later.”
“Okay. Bye, Dad.” You hang up and put your phone face-down on your desk, staring once more at the headline. For the first time, you don’t feel sad, you feel angry. You want to lash out at something–someone. Preferably the person or persons who put you in this predicament. You didn’t deserve this. You hadn’t done anything wrong. But one thing was for certain: you weren’t going to mope around and let them continue to take advantage of you.
There’s a heavy knock on your door.
“Hey, Y/N. Ready for lunch?” It’s Tony.
“Sure. Give me a minute.” You whip your burgundy blazer off the back of your chair with more force than necessary; it gets twisted upside-down and something falls out of the pocket. You squat to pick it up. It’s a black, small, flat circular device that blinks red and there’s tiny little ridges in the center to indicate some kind of microphone.
What the hell is this? you think. You look back at your burgundy jacket. It’s the same one you were wearing the day you were made CEO, the night you met Natasha Romanoff. It wasn’t your most worn jacket, making the occasional appearance if you felt it complimented the rest of your outfit, but spending most of its time hanging in the front of your closet.
A disturbing thought enters your head. This little device couldn’t be what you thought it was, right? But you knew tech better than most people. And you knew that Black Widow Corporation had somehow gotten ahold of confidential information that was causing catastrophic damage to your company.
It takes all of five seconds to formulate a plan. 
You slip the audio recorder back into your pocket and put your jacket on.
Two could play at this game.
“Hey, Tony. Where are we going for lunch?” you call out, trying to keep your voice flat and clear.
“The steakhouse!” But his voice is muffled through the door.
“The steakhouse? The one on 6th Avenue, right?” you ask.
“Unless you suddenly have a new favorite that’s not on 6th,” he grumbles.
“Nope, that’s fine. Let me go check on something in the lab and I’ll be ready.”
***********************************************************************
“What’s wrong with you? Did they get your order wrong?” Tony asks as you poke at the slab of beef on your plate. 
“I’m just not really hungry,” you say. “You know, since our whole company is falling apart and everything.”
“Well, it’s still standing the last time I checked.” You appreciate how straightforward Tony is. Granted, he isn’t under the same kind of pressure as you, but you need someone who can be this cool under pressure in your life. “And I know you can’t be productive on an empty stomach. Should we order those crab legs you like?” 
“No more food please,” you mumble, pushing your plate away from you. “I need to use the bathroom.”
“Hurry back. Or I’ll order the whole appetizer menu!”
“Okay, whatever.” But you smile as you walk away from the table to the back. You look at your reflection in the gold gilded mirror, noticing the clear stress lines in your forehead, the darkness under your eyes, the way your cheeks are more hollowed in because you aren’t eating your usual 4,000 calories a day.
You rinse your hands in the sink and pat water on your face. You hear the door open behind you and your heart starts pounding faster. Had your plan worked?
“What’s wrong, honey?” Her voice snaps you to attention, velvety and seductive just like how you remember hearing it the first time. You turn to see Natasha Romanoff leaned against the wall, wearing a white blouse ready to burst at its buttons along with black slacks and towering heels. Her hair loosely bounces on her shoulders and her exposed wrists and neck are adorned with more jewelry than you can count. 
“You,” you growl, striding over to her in three big steps and glaring down at her. “Are we adding stalker charges to your growing list of crimes now?”
“What are you talking about?” Natasha tilts her head to the side dumbly. “I’m here for lunch, just like you. A coincidence isn’t a crime–”
You pull the little audio device out of your pocket. Natasha’s eyes widen for a second before she quickly turns her expression into one of defiance, but she’s already given away her familiarity. “So this is how you’ve been stealing all of our ideas, huh?” you ask. 
“You have no proof that came from me,” she objects.
“I guess not.” You toss the device to the floor and stomp on it so hard with your Gucci loafers that it crumbles with an audible crunch. “And now we’ll never know. But now you’ll have to leave alone for a little bit, right? You have to give us some time to come up with more ideas for you to steal–”
“It’s nothing personal,” Natasha insists. “Business is business, isn’t it?”
“Well, once you put my reputation at risk–” You move one step closer until your chests almost bump. “–My future at risk–” You lower your head until you’re practically breathing on her face. Natasha doesn’t shy away. In fact, you think you see a glint of triumph in her green eyes. “–It becomes very, very personal.”
The tension between you is so thick it’s suffocating. You refuse to break eye contact with Natasha, but you’re not even sure what your next move should be. You know that you should hate this woman, should be calling for her head and outing her to the media for the literal crimes she’s committed, but you also want her. She hadn’t left your mind since the day you met her and knowing that she had been spying on you this whole time was both infuriating and a little arousing. 
Natasha suddenly grabs onto the front of your shirt, yanking you closer to her until your lips crash together. You hate that the contact makes you feel relief, and you wonder if part of your recent frustration can be attributed to the fact that all this time you were secretly yearning for the same woman who was responsible for ruining your life.
“Things between us are very, very personal,” Natasha whispers, her hands slipping under your shirt to scratch across your abdomen. The coldness of her skin makes you want to cringe away, but her fingers hook onto your belt to keep you from going too far.
“Did you get jealous listening to all the girls I was fucking?” you ask.
“No,” Natasha says, but her cheeks redden and you know she’s lying. “But none of them could make you moan the way I do.”
“I wished they were you,” you admit, panting against her forehead as she undoes your belt. “Which is a fucked up thing to say given what you’ve been doing to my company.”
“I’m very good at what I do, baby,” Natasha says, pressing another hot kiss to the corner of your mouth.
“I’ll make your life hell if you don’t stop fucking with my company,” you growl, but your threat is significantly undermined by the whimper you let out when her fingers trace down the V-line of your hips to your center. 
“Would you rather I fuck you over your company?” she asks.
“Shit,” you gasp, unable to focus on her question when two fingers slip into you. You’re embarrassingly soaked for her, but you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t had wet dreams of letting Natasha Romanoff fuck you ever since your first encounter. You fall back against the wall, panting as she pistons her fingers in and out of you. “Someone might walk in,” you warn, suddenly reminded about the forbiddenness of this relationship.
“I locked the door,” Natasha says, using her free hand to tug down the collar of your shirt so she can lick and kiss the skin of your neck. You bite on your lip to muffle your moan, your hands going to hold her hips roughly, pulling her closer to you. Her fingers curl and her thumb presses hard into your clit. You feel yourself clench tightly around her and your knees are ready to buckle. “For the record, I did miss you too.” 
“What took you so long?” You have no idea how you’re able to hold a conversation with Natasha Romanoff while she fucks you, but here you are. Your hands wander towards her ass, cupping her solidly and almost lifting her off the floor. 
“I had to wait,” she answers simply, her thumb flicking against your clit and your stomach burns with the stimulation. The slick noises of her fingers sliding into you is downright filthy and you rock your hips forward to urge her to move faster.
“What did you…have to wait…for?” you pant. “Your stocks to…overtake…mine?”
“Sure, baby,” Natasha says, nibbling at your collarbone and marking you with a dark hickey. You still have enough consciousness to notice the way she dodges your question. “You want to cum for me?” she asks, pistoning her hand faster.
“Yes, yes, please,” you beg, already on the verge of finishing. You adjust the angle of your hips so she can reach deeper, her fingers brushing past the sensitive ridges that make you see stars with every touch.
“Wait until I say,” she demands and you whine at her dominance. But you’re in no position to negotiate, so you keep your back pressed against the wall, desperately fighting the tidal wave of arousal threatening to crash down. 
“Nat,” you say, your fingers digging hard into her ass, “Please let me–”
“Wait,” she repeats, sounding both annoyed and aroused. She pumps into you harder and faster, until you’re quivering and don’t think you can physically hold back anymore–
“Babe–”
“Cum for me.”
You feel like your body is tearing apart as you explode over her hand, arching your back off the wall, pressing your heaving chest into Natasha’s, heart pounding like you’ve just sprinted through a marathon. Natasha’s thrusts slow as you ride out your orgasm, and as you slump against the wall, she pulls her fingers out and, sticking them into her mouth to suck off your juices. You watch her hungrily, still dizzy from the rush of endorphins. 
“My turn,” you say, hooking your arms under her thighs and her arms loop around your neck. You pick her up effortlessly and shuffle with her into the handicapped stall. This time, Natasha’s back is pinned to the wall as you crash your lips into hers, reigniting the heat between your legs. But you’ve already got your release and you are more than eager to return the favor. 
You pull down her pants and panties, mouth watering at the sight of her glistening center. You crouch down to pick her up again, this time letting her thighs rest on your shoulders so when you stand up, her pussy is perfectly in line with your mouth. Natasha’s hands tangle tightly in your hair as she draws your head towards her center, her calves locking across the back of your neck.
Without needing any more prompting, you pull forward to taste her. Her moans are music to your ears as you lap at her dripping heat, your tongue pressing deeper in search of more. All you can smell is her, all you can taste is her, and all you can think about is her. Natasha is sinful heaven to you and for a few seconds, you let yourself completely forget about how she’s ruining your life.
Suddenly, you hear a knock on the door.
“Hello? Why is this locked?” someone’s voice on the other side says. 
You reach up with your right hand and cover Natasha’s mouth. She bites into the side of your hand and you hiss at the pain.
“Go get one of the staff.”
“You better finish soon,” you hum, nipping at the insides of her thighs while she squirms on your shoulders. “Or the whole world is going to hear me eating you out in here.”
“They should,” Natasha pants, gripping almost painfully at the back of your head, trying to force you back between her legs. “They need to know that you’re all mine, baby.”
You want to tell her that you don’t belong to anyone, and certainly not her of all people, but the protests die in your throat as she squeezes her thighs around your head. You truly are some kind of servant to Natasha Romanoff. Your tongue runs up and down her slit, poking at her throbbing clit as she bucks forward against your face.
“Fuck, take me already,” she whines. 
“So impatient,” you tease. 
“Less talking, more fucking,” she demands.
“Same to you.” You shove your fingers into her mouth to quiet her, and she sucks on them in a way that you try to mirror against her pussy. Wrapping your lips around her clit and thrusting your tongue into her until she’s a puddle in your arms.
“...I don’t know why the door is locked. Let me speak to the manager to get the key.”
Natasha’s whimpers are muted so you have to gauge her reaction by the rest of her body. The way she grips onto your hair like it’s some kind of lifeline. Her walls milk your tongue desperately, slick spilling onto your chin. You don’t think you’ll ever be able to get enough of this woman.
The door clicks open just as Natasha finally comes undone. Your fingers muffle her moans as you quickly lick her clean, wishing you had time to bring her to a second orgasm, but the heels on the floor indicate the two of you are no longer alone. You slowly lower Natasha to the floor, suddenly feeling the burn in your shoulders as you finally relieve yourself of her weight.
“Call me next time you want to fuck someone,” Natasha pulls you in for one final kiss and slips something into your pocket. It’s her business card. 
“We’ll see,” you say, still not exactly sure of this arrangement, but not having the time to hang around and discuss. You leave the stall first, washing off at the sink and slinking out.
***********************************************************************
Natasha waits until you’ve left the bathroom to adjust herself in the mirror. She reapplies another layer of lipstick, smoothing down her blouse and tucking it back into her pants. She struts out of the restaurant, her body tingling in the aftermath of her sexcapade in the bathroom with you.
She steps into the alley adjacent to the restaurant and stands by the overflowing dumpster. She takes your wallet out of her pocket, unfolding it and laughing at the photo on your driver’s license. It was almost disappointing how easy you were. You weren’t cut out to lead a powerful company like Envy Industries. While you might have had the intellect, you clearly could not handle confrontation and even the idea of failure.
Natasha almost feels bad for you, but not bad enough to stop.
She empties the cash from your wallet, the several crisp hundred dollar bills fluttering to the ground. Maybe they’ll make some lucky homeless person’s day. Natasha pockets your heavy metal credit cards, despite having no intention but to use them as paperweights for her office. Then she finds what she’s really after: the solid black card that’s your apartment key. 
Natasha discards your wallet into the dumpster and walks out to the street to be picked up by her driver. 
***********************************************************************
You return to the table, smoothing back your hair and pulling at the newly-formed wrinkles in your shirt. You barely remember to button your shirt back up to your throat to hide the collar of hickeys Natasha left to remember her by.
“You were in there a while,” Tony comments. “You need some Pepto?”
“No, I’m fine.” You sit down, staring at your cold steak while you think. “Can we go now? I have some stuff I need to do.”
“Sure, sure.” Tony calls for the waitress and the check. You slip your phone out to view the location of the tracking device you (literally) implanted into Natasha.
It was a tiny, tiny device, probably about the size of a grain of rice. You could barely feel its weight when you have it balanced on the tip of your finger. 
“This GPS will provide an accurate location down to a meter,” Dr. Pym explains. “Designed and manufactured right here at Envy Industries, so you can rest assured this is the highest quality product you’ll find on the market.”
“Don’t mention this to my dad, will you?” you request, placing the little tracker back in its foam-padded case.
“Of course,” Dr. Pym says. “I answer to you and only you now.”
“Good.”
You weren’t a hundred-percent sure how successful you’d be, but you had tried your best to hold the GPS on your fingertip before sticking your fingers in Natasha’s mouth. Her natural reaction would be to suck and swallow, and you were hoping that the rice-sized GPS would easily find its way down her esophagus into her. 
There was no way she would know about it (or even be able to taste it) in the heat of the moment, and after a few days, it would pass through and the evidence wouldn’t be in her system anymore. You didn’t need more than a few days to track her location and habits. 
With a sigh of relief, you see the red dot on the map indicating that she’s still waiting by the street side of the restaurant, probably for her driver. You can’t help but chuckle to yourself, wondering what Natasha would say when she realizes you’re willing to play just as dirty as her.
The waitress boxes up your steak and hands it to you in a paper bag. You and Tony leave through the back entrance to the cramped parking lot and you wait until you’ve climbed into his Aston Martin to say, “Are you still in touch with that…uh…Buck guy?”
Tony is quiet for a moment. “Oh, you mean Bucky? Yeah, I see him from time to time. Why?”
You’ve never made a request like this before in your life, and you know the moment you do, it’s going to change everything. You take a deep breath, fighting the anxiety in your chest.
“I need him to get me a gun.”
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
AN: Click here for Part 3!
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evansbby · 1 year
Text
another sugar daddy Ari 🫣🥵✨✨
18+ minors dni, daddy kink, age gap, smut
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Ari wasn’t a conventional sugar daddy by any means. Well, what was a conventional sugar daddy, anyways? You wouldn’t know, because this was the first time you’d ever been in an arrangement like this. You didn’t know what you expected when you signed the contract. But it’s not like you were complaining…
You weren’t complaining when he made you sit on his lap while he kissed you everywhere. Slowly, sensually, petting you like you were his little toy, while he asked you questions about your life.
“Are you enjoying college?” While he sucked on your neck.
“Tell me about your parents, how are they doing?” While he peppered kisses along your jaw.
“What extra-curriculars are you taking this semester?” As he kissed your cheek and cooed at you.
You’d tell him, being as animated as possible because he seemed to like how chatty you were. And he’d play with your hair and caress you everywhere and put his hands up your skirt or play with your bra strap. It was like you were a delectable meal that he was playing with, and he enjoyed teasing himself almost as much as he enjoyed teasing you.
“Baby, you didn’t spend any of your allowance this week.” Ari inquires one day, frowning as he enters your apartment. Well, the luxury penthouse apartment he was paying for, but he liked to call it yours and you liked having a place of your own so you never corrected him. Not that he’d appreciate you correcting him on anything anyways. Men and their egos…
You shrug, sitting up on the couch where you’d been waiting for him. He’d texted you earlier informing you that he’d cleared his schedule to meet you for lunch. And of course, you assumed lunch was code for sex, which was why you were clad in only a pretty pink lingerie set with silky ribbons and bows, along with a pair of pink high heels which Ari already couldn’t take his eyes off of.
“Sorry, daddy, I just didn’t feel like shopping.”
You cross and uncross your legs, looking up at him and biting your lip. How can you tell your sugar daddy that there’s only so many new dress, shoes or purses you can purchase in a week?
Ari huffs, “I’m gonna have to start punishing you if you don’t spend your weekly allowance, sweetheart.”
But he’s already unbuckling his belt, which makes lick your lips excitably. You’d only been in this arrangement with him for a month and a half, but he’d already got you addicted to his dick. And his mouth. His tongue. His hands…
Ari was so different from the college boys you were used to. Not only was he older, mature, experienced in how to please women, but he was also just… so rugged. And tough. Rough around the edges, so to speak. With his mane of long hair, his bristly beard and wild eyes, he was incredibly virile, handsome, and quite frankly, every girl’s wet dream.
In his 40s, he was now the big CEO hotshot of some huge company. But he’d worked for the government when he was younger, going out on international missions and doing all that dangerous, top secret stuff. But that was all he ever told you about that, and yet you could see it on his face, everything he’d been through and the things he’d seen.
He was hot-headed, impulsive and he took what he wanted when he wanted it. You weren’t complaining, because it made for some fantastic, mind-blowing sex.
Like when he’d taken you out to dinner but midway through the meal he’d decided he’d rather devour you instead, and so he’d pulled you into his lap right there and fucked you gently while he fed you pieces of steak. Luckily, the two of you were in a corner booth. Unluckily, most of the wait-staff had seen, but Ari left them a hefty tip to make sure they never mentioned it again.
Or the time he’d come to pick you up from campus, only to see you talking to one of the boys from your history class. That was the day you’d found out how jealous Ari Levinson was capable of being. He’d slung you over his lap and spanked your ass raw for the better part of the journey home. His limo driver had drawn the partition, and you’d cried until your daddy pulled you upright, kissed your face and told you it way okay.
Or, the time you’d forgot to call him daddy during sex once, which was very much against the rules. Ari wanted you to call him daddy and nothing else when inside the bedroom. Which was why he’d tied you up and aggressively licked your cunt till your legs were shaking and you were on the brink of passing out, and the only word you were able to utter was “daddy.”
Back in the present, Ari allows his pants to drop to the floor along with his boxers, and he gives you a meaningful look.
“Daddy’s had a long day and wants you to suck his dick, sweetheart.”
You sink down to your knees, trying to be sexy about it and you know he appreciates that. You love how he can’t take his eyes off your body, how the lingerie hugs your curves and pushes your breasts up. How tantalising your cleavage looks, especially with you on your knees in front of him. You know Ari loves your body, and loves buying you pretty, revealing things so he can show you off to all his friends and colleagues.
You grab hold of his big dick, throat already hurting at the thought of having that inside your mouth. You loved his dick because it was pretty and brought you so much pleasure, but it was also so insanely big, and Ari loved to make you choke on it. Which happened every time you gave him a blowjob because you still weren’t used to his size, and he preferred you taking all of it in till you couldn’t breathe. You knew he loved it when you couldn’t breathe, when his enormous dick was suffocating you…
“And then after you do that, you’re going to sit on my lap and scroll through my phone till you’ve found some nice things to spend your allowance on. Got that, gorgeous?”
You nod submissively, and Ari smirks. He’s still got his belt in his hand and he loops it around your neck, tightening it till it’s incredibly snug. And just being there, by his feet with a makeshift leash around your neck gets you wetter than it should.
“Such a good little girl,” Ari grunts, grabbing a fistful of your hair as you take his cock into your mouth. Giving Ari a blowjob is always a messy affair, and soon enough, he’s thrusting in and out of your mouth at top speed, muttering profanities while he orders you to keep your eyes on his.
He rubs his dick all over your face, smearing your cheeks and nose with his precum and your own spit. He slaps you across the face with his cock, chuckling breathlessly when you pout because he knows how wet it gets you. And he grabs your hair, pushing you down till your deep-throating him, your nose pressed against his pelvis till you can’t breathe and you begin to flail your limbs.
But his belt around your neck keeps you in place, as does his constant praises “What a good little girl,” “daddy loves how well you take my dick,” “you’re so good for me, baby. So sexy and cute when you’ve got my dick down your throat.”
He cums on your face and doesn’t let you clean it off. He tells you that you look beautiful like this, and then, true to his word, sits you down on his lap and hands you his phone. You scroll through one expensive brand website after another, all while he plays with your lingerie, petting and kissing you how he loves to, and telling you how sexy you are with his cum on your face.
“Sweetheart, if it was up to me, I’d have you in nothing except covered in diamonds, and my cum on your face.”
He immediately orders you an expensive pair of diamond earrings from Cartier (as if you haven’t already got two whole jewellery boxes full of diamonds and pearls and sapphire and what not — all from Ari of course). And then he insists that the earrings were his gift to you, and that you still need to spend your allowance.
After a lot of pouting and grumbling, and some reprimanding smacks to your bottom later, you’ve let him buy you two Chanel handbags, a dress from Versace’s newest Resort collection (not even in stores yet, but Ari had his connections), as well as five new pairs of shoes (all high heels, of course).
“Now was that so hard, baby?”
“I guess not. But I’m gonna run out of space soon, with all the things you keep buying me.”
Ari scoffs, “I have another apartment in the upper east side. You can use it as your shoe closet.”
“You’re really into the heels, aren’t you, daddy?” You tease, twirling your bare legs in the air, your heels catching the light and you feel Ari getting hard again. He grabs your ankle suddenly, pressing kisses up your calf while you gasp and squirm in his lap. His bonded digs at your ass and his hands fondle you everywhere, tugging at your lingerie before he abruptly stops himself.
“Baby, go wait for me inside the bedroom. Everything off except the shoes. And lie on the bed for me with your legs spread out.”
You raise an eyebrow, “That’s awfully specific, daddy—OW!”
He smacks your ass four times in quick succession.
“Go. Now. I’ve got the rest of the day off and daddy plans to fuck your little pussy till I’ve had my fill. Which won’t be any time soon, so take a couple of bottles of water with you too.”
***
JSJDSJSKSKSK THE END IDK I AM IN SYCH A SUGAR DADDY ARI MOOD BYE.
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