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hellishjoel · 8 months

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little black dress

10k / pairing: bartender!joel x f!reader

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summary: You’re breaking things off with your douchebag situationship at one of your favorite little dive bars because lord knows you’re gonna need a drink or two. The bartender, Joel, is happy to offer his assistance.

warnings/information: MA 18+ (minors DNI), no outbreak, swearing, alcohol consumption, slight angst, toxic ex-boyfriend putting hands on you, dom!Joel, dirty talk, pet names, oral (f receiving), titty attention, unprotected p in v (wrap it up pls), I think that’s it!

A/N: I’ve held this in my vault for WEEKS. Thank you to @strang3lov3 and @macfrog for helping get this piece to completion! I quite literally couldn’t have done it without them and without their input and encouragement. Also -- this is my first 10k fic! how exciting!!

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Your breaths grow heavy with impatience, waiting to feel him. Him soaking up your slick wasn’t enough. He finally got the hint as your hips rutted back into this touch, hearing his hellish low chuckle at your desperation. “So-” your breath hitches as you feel his tip nudge in, “fuckin-” you clench your eyes closed as his first few inches break you in two, your jaw dropping, “tight.” He bottoms out in one swift thrust, filling you up to a level you didn’t even know you possessed. “Joel!” A broken cry unleashes from the depths of your throat, you didn’t need to see him to know how big he is. You can fucking feel every single inch of him.

You had never gotten dressed up for a breakup before.

As you looked yourself over in the mirror, you were reminded of what you discussed with your friends last night.

You felt a little on edge when you revealed to your friends over a girl’s night that you wanted to break up with your short-term boyfriend Chris. The relationship was only a couple of months old, but the guy was a douchebag. And you realized it too late.

“He was such a waste of your time.”

“Oh my god, he was an asshole to you.”

“Girl, I hope you do a revenge breakup on his sorry ass.”

“A revenge breakup?”

Ahh, yes. The revenge breakup. For wasting your time, efforts, and emotions on Chris, you deserved to have a little fun in the form of revenge. You’d put on your favorite little black dress, do your hair and your makeup, wear a red lip, and show him that you don’t need him.

But now as you stood in front of your bathroom mirror, you felt like you were playing dress up. You weren’t really this confident, this bold. But your pouty red lips said otherwise. Your favorite perfume said otherwise, as well. After a slow turn in the mirror, long legs on show with a short black dress adorning your curves, you decided you would be a man-eater tonight.

You would have preferred to break up with him over text, but you decided you were together for a little too long not to break things off in person.

Despite what you looked like on the outside, your heart was a tangled mess of emotions.

When you first met Chris at one of the fancy bar lounges on the east side, he was the standout of his friends. Tall, blessed with dark blonde hair, perfectly clean-shaven, still dressed in a work suit to join in on the Friday night happy hour. You quickly learned a lot about him. He had an apartment in the city, but his permanent residence was in the neighboring state. He liked golf, basketball, and football. He was a family guy, close with his parents. After buying you a drink, he told you he worked at a finance agency, a large one at that.

The professionalism in itself made you swoon. You couldn’t help it, he seemed put together and men who had a plan were attractive to you.

Needless to say, you went home with him after he was whispering in your ear all night long, his large hand planted possessively on your hip, derailing any other guy in the room who thought about trying a conversation with you.

It could have stopped there, should have stopped there. But he was smart, and his face wore a permanent smirk that put you in a destructive tailspin. So you kept seeing each other. He took you out on lunch dates, got you into the trendy clubs, and put the two of you up in hotel suites from time to time for a nice weekend away.

It was fun while it lasted. His charm eventually wore off, and you realized he was just… a completely selfish douchebag.

You were ready to break things off.

And so it was decided. You looked hot. Too good for him. Your roommate insisted that she could come with you for moral support dressed as a casual bargoer, watching the show for herself behind a bar menu. The idea made you bubble up a laugh, but you really wanted to do this yourself, for yourself.

Your stomach was in knots the entire Uber ride over, leg crossed over the other as you drew shapes into the material of your clutch. You wanted to arrive a little earlier than the set time with your soon-to-be ex-boyfriend-fling, needing a drink or two of encouragement.

The Blackbird was a corner bar that had survived the rapid changes of downtown for the past ten years, or so. Initially around when there was a small gas station on the opposite corner, now it was neighboring a family diner and a video rental shop.

As soon as you enter down the cement stairs and through the dark green door, you’re greeted by a stage to your right where local bands came in and played. After walking past the pool tables that desperately needed new felt, you pass an old golden jukebox that was playing 80s dad rock. It fit the atmosphere, you had to admit. Some Guns N’ Roses started to play after just finishing a Twisted Sister song.

Maybe it was the fact that you were entering into a small dive bar, easily becoming the best-looking person there by a mile and a half, but it was the confidence you needed.

Eyes were on you, a small smile fluttering on your lips at the discovery.

Cigarette smoke filled the air, your heels clicking casually against the hardwood floor as you used the space as an off-duty catwalk. Pool balls clattered, matching the fast-paced beating of your heart.

The Blackbird Bar offered little lighting, aside from the bulbs that hung above the pool tables and a few old neon signs. The walls were decorated in well-loved decor like old license plates and tacky bar signs. There was a $1 bill hung up in a frame, most likely the first bill the bar had ever made. It's a crowning little achievement in all of its dust-covered glory.

The bar stools could use new upholstery and a fresh coat of paint might do the wall wonders, but people didn’t come here to enjoy upscale aesthetic and fruity drinks. They came for cheap booze and company from the regulars.

An empty string of barstools waited for your company at the end of the long bar, your eyes adjusting to the darkness the bar was veiled in.

Your fingernail traced over the slight scratches on the bar’s surface, someone clearing their throat knocking you loose from your thoughts.

“What’ll y’ have?”

Your head was so clouded with what you might say during your impending breakup that you didn’t think of what you wanted to drink. You could really use some liquid courage.

“Uhm..” You paused as you looked over the bartender, your eyes adjusting as you watched him clean a glass with a rag before he tossed the cloth over his shoulder.

He was older, a little shaggy looking. He wore a tattered dark green henley with a waffle print, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

You ordered your go-to drink, slowly swirling your straw around the ice as you anxiously watched the clock tick closer and closer to your planned time.

“Hey beautiful.” Shit, he was early.

Your eyes widened as you quickly set down your drink, signaling to the scruffy bartender and tapping at your glass to request another.

Chris entered your space with a charming smile, his pungent cologne instantly piercing your senses as your eyes gazed over his square jawline.

“Hey.” You teetered on your seat, adjusting the hem of your dress, feeling that it was all of a sudden far too short for the evening. Like it was shrinking up your body.

Chris quickly picked up on your not-so-warm greeting, his head cocking as he set down his jacket on the bartop.

“Interesting pick for the bar. I could’ve taken you somewhere uptown.”

The comment made your gut clench, especially since the bartender was right in front of the two of you, making your drink as he silently listened to every word.

“I actually really like this spot. Feels less pretentious than uptown.” You bit back, maybe a little too much venom in your comment.

Chris playfully threw up his hands in surrender, smirking down at you as he took in your appearance. Slightly smeared red lipstick and an all too tight black little dress.

“Alright, uptown is pretentious now, I’m glad you updated me.” His comment was snide but laced with a hint of teasing, your hand instantly reaching for your drink once it was crafted by the bartender. You mutter an apologetic thank you.

“Hey,” Chris spoke up as he raised two fingers to flag down the bartender. “Can I get-”

Before he could finish, the bartender had walked off further down the bar lane, grumbling under his breath as he went to fulfill another customer’s order. Chris scoffed and tried to brush it off but it made you smile. Well deserved.

Once Chris finally did receive his drink, a corona with a lime, he started to tell you about his week in the office. Unprovoked.

Apparently his coworker was brutally fired, his department was on their third secretary within the year thus far, and he was up to his ears with his end-of-the-month reports.

You weren’t sure what drink number you were on. The bartender kept giving you glances every time he poured your glass back up, his eyes signaling to Chris as he kept speaking over you. He looked just as annoyed as you felt.

“And Chambers is just.. all up my ass about finishing it ahead of schedule but I keep telling him, y’know, Dude, it’s not due until Monday. Get off my ass about it. Right? Right?” Now he was laughing like his life, and his story was really all that interesting. Like everyone was hanging onto every word he ever said with enthusiasm.

He kept wagging his beer around in his hand as he spoke, using mannerisms to go with his exquisite storytelling.

You muster up a noise to give him some sort of implication that you were interested. However, the more you drank, the more you realized how uninteresting he actually was. Who talks at someone like this for 45 minutes? When did he ask you a question about you? Did he know shit about you?

“Hey,” your voice sounded power drenched which quickly captured his attention. His eyebrows raised as if you were interrupting his train of thought.

“Do you remember what I told you I studied in school?” Your head cocked to the side, eyes narrowed on his. Despite the volume in the bar, you could still feel your heart thumping in your ears.

He tried not to look phased by your question. After a pause on his end, he mustered up an awkward chuckle before clearing his throat, shifting back and forth on his feet.

“How long have I lived in the city?”

You watched as his eyes flicked off to the side, his lips parting as if he was hoping the right answer would just come to him.

“Uhm..”

“Uhm?” You mocked, a nasty smirk on your lips. It was taunting.

The more he couldn’t answer your questions, the angrier you got. You mocking him seemed to get his blood boiling.

“What do I do for work? What are my hobbies?” Your red lipstick kissed the straw as you took another sip while you waited, crossing your leg over the other as your foot casually bounced while you watched him squirm.

You continued to roll out question after question. You enjoyed watching him writhe under your scrutiny, finding out that he didn’t fucking know you at all.

Someone you considered to be so put together, so refined, and so charming was really just a douchebag clown masquerading in a suit.

The grip on your drink tightened, and you’re not sure if it was the alcohol or the anger you bore, but something gave you the nerve to throw the remnants of your drink on him.

The liquor splashed across his white button-up shirt first, your half-melted ice cubes followed by pelting his chest.

Satisfaction and surprise filled your gut, your hand coming up to cover your mouth as you tried to hide a laugh. The crowd of regulars watched from a distance, a few gasping while a few others snickered.

He looked furious.

“You fucking-- bitch! What the hell!” He was still shaking off ice cubes, pieces of his blonde hair falling down and presenting him as disheveled.

“If that wasn’t answer enough for you, I don’t want to see you again. We’ve been on countless dates, and you don’t remember a damn thing about me.”

You didn’t care that people were watching, you were putting on quite the show for them in your little revenge dress.

Chris scoffed at you in disbelief, shaking off the liquid that clearly stained through his shirt. You could feel your chest swell with a sense of pride and courage. Your body felt warm, stained with confidence as red as your lipstick.

“You’re fuckin’ sick, you know that? You’re a fuckin’ psycho!” He was nearly laughing at you, the insults scraped at your throat and made your confidence cut down an inch.

“Just-- get the fuck out of here, I don’t want to see you again.”

Suddenly, something you weren’t expecting was his hand tightening around your forearm. It stung, his iron grip burning into your flesh so hard that your fingertips already felt numb from the lack of circulation.

You let out a whimper of discomfort, your big eyes looking between his talons pressed into you then back up to his twisted face.

He yanked you into him, your heels scraping the bottom of the floor-- or maybe that was the screech of his barstool he pushed out of his way on the hardwood.

“You really think you’re all that interesting?” His eyes were narrowed in on yours. “You were just an pair of open legs.” He muttered in disgust.

Your eyes hardened, jaw tightening shut as both anger and sadness twisted inside of you until it created a damaging tornado. You couldn’t believe you saw interest in him or anything at all.

“Hey-” A voice so low and booming broke you out of your thoughts, both of your heads snapping to the bartender who was staring daggers into Chris.

“You don’t touch a lady like that in my fuckin’ bar. Get the hell outta here.” His voice relaxed in volume, his scary stature and piercing eyes were enough to thrust a splinter of fear into Chris. But of course, being the cock that he was, he wouldn’t let it seem like the bartender phased him.

“This doesn’t concern you, man. Best if you just drop it-”

“Or what?” The bartender’s words cut quick as his head cocked up, eyes narrowed on Chris’s. Challenging him. Goading him to fight back. The bartender even stepped closer to the bar’s edge, making Chris step back a foot or two despite the bar being a direct barrier to the two. Chris’ hold didn’t slack, it became stronger. Your nails started to try and pry away his hand from you, but his grip was solid.

You looked to the bartender, a silent plea for his help behind your eyes as you were still lightly fighting against the grip Chris had on you. The anger Chris felt towards the man reflected in his hand around your forearm, a short cry coming from your lips as his fingertips bruised into your delicate skin.

“What did I just fuckin’ say?” The bartender was rounding the bar towards the two of you, Chris quickly dropping his hold on you as the man neared closer. This idiot had never been in a fight before in his life, and he surely wasn’t going to start with the tall, broad bartender who probably beat up drunk assholes every other night.

You were so hypnotized by their interaction, the feeling of the bartender’s hand gently on your back before he became a barricade in front of you. His broad arms crossed in front of his chest and he was still looking for a fight out of Chris.

He looked scary, but in a more protective way now. Now that he was so much closer, you had a better look at him.

His flesh was seared with the signs of life, soft lines on his forehead and by his eyes-- probably from the permanent scowl he wore like how people put on their glasses every day or a watch around their wrist. He had a speckled beard, but a prominent mustache on his upper lip, both the hair on his head and his facial hair wore a brief streaks of silver.

His nose was aquiline, it fit him perfectly. He was long in the torso, broad in the shoulders, and drawn in at the waist. The henley shirt he wore looked like it could barely fit around his biceps, the material stretching to accommodate. He was handsome for a stranger you had paid little attention to all evening.

“You alright?” You could tell he was talking to you without looking, his voice more serene.

“Yeah.” Your voice sounded shakier than you wanted it to, the whole interaction being a shock to your system. Your hand delicately stroke over where he held you, the ghost of his grip still aching on your skin as small bruises were sure to form later.

The bartender’s attention was back on Chris after being assured you were alright.

“You heard her. Get the hell out of here.” The bartender’s head cocked behind Chris and to the door. Once the bartender got involved with your fight, you could feel the presence of the tough pool table guys pause their game to make sure the situation was handled.

Outnumbered, Chris scoffed before he yanked his ice-covered jacket from the bartop, his eyes on you as he shook his head, his nostrils flaring. “Keep her. She’s not worth the fuckin’ trouble.”

The bartender had enough of Chris thinking he was in charge of the situation. He planted his hands at the top of Chris’ chest, giving him a harsh shove that had him staggering backward, still trying to maintain his balance as he was shoved out the door repeatedly.

“I don’t usually ask twice, consider yourself lucky.” The bartender’s words were cut with steel. He looked so calm and unbothered like he picked fights with random guys every other night and it was no big deal.

The crowd of regulars at the bar cheered him on until Chris was swiftly shoved out the door and you could hear his body scuff against the cement steps outside.

You finally felt a flood of relief course through your body, the adrenaline had come and gone, but the racing of your heart hadn’t subsided.

You let out a hot puff of air as you brought the scattered barstools back to their home under the bar, seeing a pair of hands help you align the last one. It was the bartender, and he was watching you with eagle eyes.

“I’m sorry-” you quickly blurt, shaking your head and pressing your hand to the side of your neck to find some sort of relief. “I didn’t mean to cause a scene or put you in a situation-”

“You didn’t do nothin’ wrong.” He was quick to cut in and assure you, your bunched-up shoulders slowly relaxing as he resumed his spot behind the bar.

You sort of wanted to leave. You hated the unwanted attention your hot-headedness created. Even though he was the asshole, you still felt like it was your fault.

“Sit down.” His voice demanded, your eyes softening as your head whipped back up to look at him.

“I’ll remake your drink, just… sit down.” You shifted on your uncomfortable heels before giving in and satisfying him with a little nod, returning to your barstool as he came by and made you another drink.

“Can you-” your voice perked up and tapped at your glass gently. He paused his motions as he looked down at you. “Can you make this drink as responsibly strong as you can?”

His lips tightened, trying to hide a smile poking out from the corner of his mouth.

“Sure, Trouble.” You watched as he tipped the alcohol in, letting it fill up with the ice before he added only a good splash of mixer. Thank god.

The breakup with Chris was warranted, but it was hard thinking about having to start all over with someone new. Hopefully with someone better. You weren’t one to drink by yourself like this, but the burn of the alcohol sliding down your throat felt better than the ache you felt festering in your chest.

As the night went on, the bartender didn’t seem keen on being more than a few feet away from you. He’d fulfill a patron’s order on the other end but always end up back by you, meandering himself to keep busy. You had watched him clean one beer mug three separate times now. Sometimes you made eye contact, only for a fleeting second before he looked away.

He kept asking if you were alright. Yeah, I’m alright. If he could do anything. You’ve already done more than enough. Thank you. Finally, he broke.

“So… you wanna tell me who that guy was?” He asked, topping off your drink as you sighed and swirled your straw around.

“He was... I don’t know. A boyfriend, I guess.” You waved around your drink as you spoke, your eyes meandering around the bar.

“Whatever we had, it didn’t last long.” You tutted up a short laugh at your little joke. You took in a deep breath through your nose, your shoulders rising before they dropped on the exhale.

The bartender shook his head, almost looking inquisitive.

“Why d’ya laugh?” He asked curiously, his arms spread as he planted his palms into the bar for balance as he kicked back one of his boots to rest behind the other. He was so broad and handsome.

“Oh,” you paused and covered your face for a moment in embarrassment that he called you out on it. “I said it didn’t last long, the relationship, but like.. Y’know.” You trailed off and shyly smiled, setting your hands back in your lap as you caught his eye contact, however, now he was holding it with you.

“What?” He pressed further. But he knew what. He just wanted you to say it.

You let out a short nervous bubble of laughter, shaking your head. Oh, fuck it. The alcohol was helping you relax, and frankly, you wanted to laugh at Chris. You didn’t owe him anything.

“He didn’t last long. The relationship didn’t last long, and he didn’t last long. Y’know. In bed.” You felt the need to over-clarify now, taking another sip from your drink, your eyes clenching closed slightly as the strong alcohol made your face tense.

The bartender’s mouth chipped up into a crooked smirk, shaking his head as he looked over you for a moment. You remembered what you were wearing, your little black dress doing wonders for your cleavage resting just above his bar.

“‘S’a damn shame.” He finally said, shaking his head as he threw a white cloth up onto his shoulder, his attention fully on you now as the bar had begun to die down throughout the night. All that was left was a set of people playing pool and one cigarette smoker on the other end of the bar, his eyes tiredly captured by the random game show on the television.

“What is?” You ask curiously, your straw slurping ice now as you sighed and pushed the glass away, shaking your head at him to signal you were done for the night.

He paused before answering you, taking your glass from the bartop and throwing down the ice into a tray then the glass into soapy water. He shook his head and shrugged as he wiped his hands.

“Jackass twenty-somethings not knowin’ how to make their pretty girlfriends finish. Damn shame.”

Your lips parted, your doe eyes on his whiskey-colored ones. Your stomach twisted, a tug between your legs so strong it felt like you were battling an internal fire.

Finally, you just laughed. It was out of shyness and shock, but it was a laugh.

“Is that so?”

“So it is.”

“I don’t even know your name.”

He didn’t let you go another second without it. “Joel.”

Your head cocked to the side, your confidence bubbling up as you sighed quietly. “Joel.” You repeated back to him, the two of you slowly nodding to one another. Now you were the only thing his eyes would look at. You sort of wished he would look somewhere else, to let you fucking breathe.

But he pinned you right there in your barstool with his gaze, in his bar. It was crazy to think something fruitful might actually come from the train wreck that was tonight.

Maybe put together looked something more like Joel. Someone a little older, experienced. No wedding ring, a barely-there smile that seemed to only come out on special occasions. He amused you, even if it was just for tonight.

“So, Joel,” your hand reached out, pointer finger gently grazing over the top side of his hand that was planted in front of you. His skin was warm, your nail grazing the soft hairs by his wrist, and the band of the watch he wore. “What are you trying to say?”

His expression didn’t break, if anything, there were minute details you noticed. His jaw clicked tighter like there was someone slowly turning a tight wheel that controlled it behind the scenes. His shoulders bunched a bit more at his upper back, his body tall and looming and strong. But his eyes stayed on yours, consistent, dark, and beautiful.

“I can show you better than I can tell you.” His words were laced with a promise you were begging him to fulfill. You weren’t sure how much longer you could last with this nagging feeling between your legs begging for relief.

Your intimate conversation was cut short with the final clatter of a pool ball, the black 8 ball sinking into a pocket.

You finally let out a breath, one you didn’t know you were holding in. You glanced to the side, away from Joel’s protective gaze as you watched the men hang up their pool cues on the wall mount, grabbing their leather jackets as they came to set their empty beer bottles on the bar top and thanking Joel before they exited.

His hand came up in a subtle wave, not even shaking his hand back and forth, just throwing his hand out there to say a silent farewell.

Your breath quickened at the thought of him alone in the bar with you. If it wasn’t for the chain smoker dulling both of your fantasies.

Joel caught your wandering eyes, following them down the lane to the final patron.

“Paul, do you know how late it is?” Your eyes fell to Joel’s fingers as he covered the clock behind the counter methodically.

The smoker, who you learned was Paul, finally pulled the cigarette away from his dry and cracked mouth, glancing around to see how empty the bar had become. Besides you and Joel.

“Your wife is probably waitin’ for you at home. Best if you start headin’ out.” Joel said as his head tilted to the door next to him, the man nodding with wide eyes.

“Oh, she is gonna kill me. That woman,” he mumbled something else you couldn’t quite hear from your end of the bar, smiling as Joel snuck a glance at you as he ushered Paul out. He’d stay here all night if Joel didn’t tell him to head on home.

Your nerve finally made your long legs move, heels landing on the hardwood as you slowly walked the length of the bar, your fingers dancing along the top. You felt a few chips and divots in the wood, years of wear and tear exposing itself to you.

Joel flicked the lock on the door and flipped the sign. Sorry, we’re closed!

The action in itself made you feel spoiled. He wanted you to himself for the rest of the night, he didn’t want anyone interrupting. Goosebumps flooded your skin as you leaned back against one of the pool tables, the light above you making you have an angelic silhouette.

Your eyes followed him as he walked to the jukebox, the only thing eliciting noise in the otherwise silent bar. With a push of a button, the music halted.

“What? No music?” You asked. Your voice had a slight echo now.

His heavy footsteps loomed closer, his eyes on yours and never straying.

“Rather hear you.”

Well, there went any remaining ounce of respect you had for yourself.

You initiated the first contact, needy at this point. Needy for someone to take care of you just for tonight. Joel was more than willing to take on that role. A means to an end.

Your soft hands landed on his exposed forearms, moving upwards until they hit the rolled-up sleeves of his dark green henley. You had to force yourself to breathe when you felt over his biceps, your warm palms coming to rest on his broad chest.

“I could have handled it you know. Before you intervened.” Your words elicited a slight grumble from the man in front of you. From Joel.

“I’m thankful, but… I had it under control.” Your fingers continued to dance over his upper half.

He let out a gruff and shook his head. “Not from where I was standin’, Trouble.” His voice was curved with cockiness. This was the first time you really took hold of his southern accent. It came out when his voice was lust drenched.

He challenges you, and your attitude matches his stubbornness.

Joel’s hips are against yours now, you can feel his jeans against your thighs that your dress doesn’t quite reach. His hands are a warm welcome on your hips. They’re gentle on you in the same way they’re possessive, eager to have you but wanting to approach you with a sense of tenderness.

“I had it.” You were persistent. Your arms moved to wrap up around his neck, intertwining your hands and feeling the soft curls on the back of his head.

“Sure.”

The distance was closing between the two of you now, his body moving with a flirtatious sense of stealth.

He watched you with a stoic face. He seemed so unphased. Your touch alone was often enough to have gentlemen attempting to take you home. You were methodical in that sense. But maybe so was Joel.

He was a total stranger, but knew little things about him. Stiff, silent, impossible to read, a human shield, a protector. He would have knocked Chris out with a single swift swing of his heavy fist if he didn’t let you go, you knew he would have. Because he was watching you both all night like he had a gut feeling.

Joel’s tundra-cold voice broke you out of your thoughts for the third time tonight, his large hand coming up and pushing a loose strand of hair out of your eyes, tucking it behind your ear before he cradled your cheek. His actions were soft, his words were filth.

“You got a real mouth on you, y’know that?” His eyebrows were furrowed, the indents on his forehead and eyebrows exposing themselves.

A proud smirk danced on your lips, your arms tugging Joel in closer. He could choose to stay still, he’s strong enough to resist your tug. But he lets you. Because he wants to.

“So I’ve been told.”

You can feel a breath leave through his nose, a sigh of contemplation. Teetering on the idea of falling down into the unknown with you.

Your breath hitches in your throat as his hands tighten on your hips, hoisting you up to sit on the pool table’s edge. The position makes your dress roll up your thighs, a broken gasp leaving your mouth as he finally fills the void between the two of you with a heavy kiss.

It’s tongue and teeth at first, meshed and mangled as you both searched for dominance. His tongue danced with your own before you were tugging on his lower lip. You swallowed Joel’s low grunt, his hands falling to the outside of your thighs with his thumbs pressing into your skin.

Fuck, he was spreading you further. The dress rolled to the very top of your legs, his body sliding through the opening as his warm body consumed you. He tasted like mint. He was probably tasting the alcohol he was pouring you all night.

You fisted his hair at the nape of his neck to hold onto some sort of control, but he was persistent.

Joel was invading your senses on all fronts until finally, you had to wave your white flag.

“Joel,” Your voice came out in a desperate breath on his lips, his head quickly nodding as if he already knew what you needed before you had to ask.

“Lie down, baby, lemme take care a’you.” He kissed you once more before pulling away, his head nodding up once, instructing you to lay back.

You felt bashful as your shoulder blades hit the pool table, still spread perfectly for him.

His expert hands pushed the dress up your hips, lifting your ass off the edge to let the material pool around your stomach.

His warm and possessive hands claimed the lower half of your body. He bent down to take you in, pouted lips kissing your naval while his heavy eyes studied your reactions.

A breath was caught in your throat as you felt his hands on the inside of your thighs, brushing over the front of the red panties you wore. He was thinking the same thing you were, you could see it the way he dropped a small grin. Same color as your lipstick, pretty girl.

“Fuck,” you whispered, using the strength you had left and sitting up on your elbows. You were too turned on not to watch him work.

Your fingers wound into the salt and pepper curls atop his head, biting down on your lower lip as his fingers continued to ghost over cotton.

His thumb began to teasingly stroke over you, brushing over your covered clit and sending electricity through his touch to your core.

Joel hooked his thumbs into the sides of your underwear, bringing up your legs to take them off with ease. You scoot closer to the edge of the table, scoot closer to him.

“What?” You ask, his bemused grin now eliciting one from you too. “Think I’m desperate?” You ask, a little on edge for his answer.

A man of suspense, you watch as Joel shrugs off the question.

You watched as his eyes came down to admire what was previously concealed, your lips parting as he let out a hum in reaction to seeing your soaked core. All because of him, all for him.

Sinking down on his knees before the pool table, your hips rutted forward a few more inches to close the distance. His toying with you was aggravating.

Joel hooked one of your legs over his wide-set shoulder, his large hand coming up to pry the other one up and open. One of your heels nearly sunk into one of the pool table pockets. You whimpered out as you eventually kicked them both off, hearing one pair clatter to the floor on the left of Joel, then the other on the right.

His lips were on you like a magnet, a heavy sigh leaving your mouth as your eyes fluttered closed. Your gut was tight, feeling it create its own knots as Joel licked an exploratory stripe up your glossy slit with his tongue. You gasped at the estranged feeling.

“Fuck,” he moaned out, a short yelp leaving you as the vibrations were shot up your center. “Taste too good not to go down on.” The compliment left you in a swirling heat, feeling your walls flutter desperately for him.

“Joel, you can just-” you paused, not realizing how frantic your words sounded. You sounded frantic enough for him to stop his tongue in his path and look at you like a deer in headlights.

“‘Somethin’ wrong?” He asked, hesitant concern crossing his features. “You alright?”

As much as you liked his attention, you felt awkward about him tasting you. Only one or two guys have ever done this for you before, neither making you finish. You just remember moaning their names until they stopped, letting them think they had succeeded. Good oral sex took experience, trial, and error. You just didn’t want him to waste his time on you.

But now that his tongue was gone, you realized how good he was making you feel. It made you realize that your slick was already devoured by his lips and his taste buds purely because he wanted to. But you still had that nervous gut feeling that it was out of some sort of chivalrous act. I’ll do it because it’s polite, because it’s only courteous.

“You just- you don’t have to, okay? I understand if you don’t want to, is what I’m trying to say.” Despite your words being laced with little pants of trying to collect yourself from the pleasure, you still offered him a respectable out. “We can just fuck, get to the good part for both of us.” Your heart thumped in your chest, looking to him with shifty, sympathetic eyes.

Your statement made his head roll to the side, his lips parting. He almost looked disappointed.

“You don’t want me to?” He finally asked, your heat still begging for his attention. You could feel your thighs trembling under the warmth of his palms spreading your legs apart.

Meekly, you finally push an answer up and out of you. “No.” Your words were breathy, eager, desperate. “Don’t want you to stop.”

Joel gave you a slight nod, his eyes looking over you for a moment before he settled back down by your core. He kissed up the inside of your thigh, his beard hairs scratching after the soothing touches of his mouth.

“Good. Now let me make you feel good.”

His words made your stomach clench, your walls fluttering and begging to be filled. By the look in his eyes, he had seen it. The way your arousal was quite literally dripping and becoming sticky on your skin.

You could feel his hot breath fanning over your core again, your hips chasing the feeling. You decided to lay back once more, just wanting to relax with Joel’s head between your legs.

His palm on your leg moved to plant your hip down into the pool table, halting your movements and holding you still. The anticipation was all too much, and you let him know that by whimpering out his name.

He wasn’t exactly slow, it’s like he was learning. With each lap of his tongue, letting it move up to your clit and then down to your entrance, he was taking the time to learn you.

You purse your lips as your eyes flutter closed, letting out a genuine gasp as he began to suckle on your clit. The motion eluded something deep in the pit of your stomach. It wasn’t exactly gentle, but it didn’t hurt. Feeling his mouth suck and tug on your aching clit, his teeth just lightly grazing your sensitivity felt like powerful lighting strikes setting a wildfire loose in your core.

“S’that feel good, pretty girl?” He whispered, trying to learn what made you tick.

“M-mhmm,” you whimper-moaned shakily in response, not finding it in you to lace together more than a few syllables.

One of your hands braced the edge of the table while the other fisted his hair, gripping the dark strands and keeping him in place. As if he was going anywhere.

You could feel Joel slowly untying the knots you had made in your stomach, plucking open one and then the other with each stroke of his tongue.

He liked your taste, he liked pleasuring you, he liked that you liked how good it felt to be given this type of attention. Attention he was sure you hadn’t rightfully experienced before.

You were eager for more but shy to ask. Joel, being the mind reader that he was, moved his hand that was dedicated to holding down your hip and brought it to glide up your slick. His wet tongue made slow figure-eights around your clit, broken moans tumbling from your mouth as you let your eyes dip open and then closed as waves of pleasure began to consume you in an even rhythm. Joel’s rhythm.

His mouth kissed at the inside of your thigh once more, having to bite down into the flesh to conceal his excitement. It made you smile and whine. You wanted the marks of his teeth, you wanted the prints of his hands on you. His were welcome.

He slowly sunk a finger into your pleading entrance, letting a breathy sigh enter the air above the two of you. The only sound in the empty bar was your eager moaning.

His mouth gave you much needed relief, your pussy taking his finger to the knuckle while his tongue continued to create generous circles around your sensitive bundle of nerves.

That’s when you felt it. The it no one had given to you before. The it that left your mind blindsided.

He was only one finger inside of you but his tongue was working magic. You started to mewl out feverish moans of his name, the hand in his hair clenching tighter and causing a sting to radiate across his scalp. The leg hiked up on his shoulder was shaking, your heel digging into his back to guide him even closer if that was humanly possible.

“Joel, holy shit,” you whimpered, head coming up to look down at him. His lips and mustache were glistening in your slick. “I’m s-so close.”

You didn’t have to convince Joel like you had to convince the others. Your moans were authentic, your cries of passion genuine.

Joel listened, he kept his pace, the pace that had you shattering like a freshly broken mirror.

“J-.. Fuck Joel, your fingers,” you whimper, your walls fluttering around where he was pumping into you with just the one.

“Mhmmm?” He elongated in a questioning tone, not freeing his mouth from you to respond. He wanted you to say it. You threw your head back in frustration and nodded quickly with your chin to the ceiling.

“A-Another, another finger.” You groan out. You could feel his smirk plastered against your clit, feeling his cheeks raise with his smile against your shaking thighs.

You don’t need to ask twice. Joel’s inserting a second finger and you can feel yourself stretching for him. He picks up his pace again and the it you’ve been fantasizing about is happening.

Your toes curl, the heel of your foot still indenting into his back as you let out heavy pants into the air. Your back arches as your walls tighten around his fingers while Joel curls them in the perfect spot, your hand fisting the edge of the table as you searched for words to resemble how good he was making you feel.

Joel kept untying your knots, plucking open one after the other, after the other, until-

“Holy f-fuck! Joel!” Your body convulsed with your orgasm, your hard nipples peaking in your dress as your lower half started to grind against his mouth for the ultimate finish. You were seeing white, your moans and the squelching noise your wetness made filled the room.

His fingers worked you down from your orgasm, your chest rising and falling as you came back to life. Freshly resuscitated after a life-altering orgasm. And one you didn’t have to fake.

His fingers were covered in your cum-mixed arousal, he didn’t waste any time sucking them clean as his eyes connected with yours. An exhausted whimper left your throat. Your lips were pouty, eyes as wide as a doe as you sat up to face him.

He pushed himself off his knees, your leg dangling free from his shoulder.

Your foreheads came to rest against one another, both taking a breath to collect yourselves. His beard definitely gave your thighs a little burn rash, but with how good he made you feel, the slight pain was worth all the pleasure.

“I’ve never had someone go down on me on a pool table.”

Your fingers aimlessly drew circles in the felt, your other hand reaching up to swipe your thumb clean across his bottom lip.

“Ever been fucked on a bar?” His eyes dark and tantalizing, his voice lacking true emotion and replacing it with grit and lust. Good. That’s the last thing you want right now. You don’t need emotions tonight.

“Mm-mm.” You said as you shook your head, the two of you wearing matching smirks.

You were glad you and Joel were on the same page. Neither of you seemed interested in anything more than sex tonight.

Joel was about to help you down from the pool table, a wave of heat splashing your already warm face. He turned back when you dropped hold of his hand, lightly squirming on the table.

“Just-” You’re a bit embarrassed, you don’t want him to feel sympathetic. “I need a minute. For my legs.” You gave him a shy smile, and he wore a crooked cocky one in return.

You glanced down as you tested a foot on the floor. Your stems felt like jelly, as if you had just run a marathon, but really, Joel was just pulling an earth-shattering orgasm from you.

Joel was quick to shake his head, his body coming back to yours.

“Don’t need you walkin’ barefoot on the floor. I’m a little behind on cleanin’ up the place.” His words made you stifle a laugh.

He was okay with eating you out on the pool table and fucking you on his bar, but god forbid you might step on something sticky.

You wonder if it’s because he feels protective of you. He wasn’t going to let some dickhead break your arm tonight. Not in his bar.

“I’m fine.” You say as you haul yourself up, planting your palm into his bicep for leverage while you put on one heel and then the other. You could walk on your own.

“You wanna fuck me on your bar, baby? You do this with all the girls?” You ask as the heels clicked on the floor, one after the other.

His pace catches up with you, dark eyes watching your every move like a predator meeting prey. It would scare you if you didn’t know how good he was with his tongue.

“Only the real pretty ones with delicious tasting cunts.”

Your lips parted at his words, merely watching as his pace kicked up a notch. You felt your back slam against the bar as Joel consumed your front and he was kissing you once more.

His kiss was magnetizing, commanding. Open your mouth for me. Let me taste you.

You obeyed, feeling him slip in and have his taste. Your hands reached for your dress that was bunched around your stomach, pulling your lips from Joel though he was apprehensive to let you do so. The material tangled your hair but you were quickly tossing your dress aside, eager to have him back in your space.

His eyes lingered on your tits, his mouth on yours, but now his hands- god, his hands, they were massaging and cupping them in his palm.

You let out a strangled whimper as he pinched your nipple between two fingers, still sensitive from your orgasm across the room.

He enjoyed watching you squirm, your jelly legs already coming back.

“So fuckin’ greedy.. Can barely hold yourself up.” Joel’s words were gritty, lost in the depths of his heady lust. You wondered how big he was, you could see the heavy outline through his jeans.

While he played with your tits, his mouth now slobbering on your nipple and making your core tremble, your hands were on his old leather belt. Pulling the excess to the side and flicking open the pin.

He takes over, pushing down his jeans to the tops of his thighs. You smile seeing his dark green briefs, the same green as his henley.

“I guess we’re both matching tonight.” You teased, snagging your pointer finger into his briefs and tugging until it snapped back into his waist.

“Turn around pretty girl, wanna feel that pretty pussy around my cock.”

Your stomach was already bottoming out, all those knots Joel had untied on the pool table were now forming again.

You whimpered as you eagerly turned around, your saliva covered tits now plastered to the bar as you bent over it. The bartop gave you a shiver, considering how cold it felt while bare.

You whipped your head to the side when you could hear him shifting out of his boxers, his belt clattering with his movements. You flicked your hair out of your way as you tried to get a look at his lower half but he was flushed behind you in no time at all.

Joel wrapped his hand around his base, his other hand on your hip as he guided you to stand between two barstools. He slid his tip in your fresh arousal, smirking as he watched you grip the edge of the bar.

“Such a pretty fuckin’ girl. Need a man to make you feel good, not a boy.”

His words released a whimpery moan from you while you nodded, each time his tip teased your entrance made your heart race just a beat faster with anticipation.

“Need you, Joel.”

He nods, his open palm splayed on your lower back and right hip as he admired the curve of your ass.

“So-” your breath hitches as you feel his tip nudge in, “fuckin-” you clench your eyes closed as his first few inches break you in two, your jaw dropping, “tight.” He bottoms out in one swift thrust, filling you up to a level you didn’t even know you possessed.

“Joel!” A broken cry unleashes from the depths of your throat, you didn’t need to see him to know how big he is. You can fucking feel every single inch of him.

Your cunt was in shock, your tight walls clenching desperately around him as you began to flood over him with your arousal.

You began panting into the wood of the bar, the pain greeting you in a hot flash.

“Oh f-... god,” your knuckles were white gripping the backside of the bar. You could hear Joel behind you, moaning at the way your walls expanded graciously for them.

“Good girl, alright baby, come on, baby,” His voice was heavy, wrapped up in his lust as he hiked up one of your legs and set it on the barstool. “So fuckin-” his heavy breath fanned across your back as he pulled he retracted his hips, “perfect for me.” He said as he reeled them back in, filling you to the max.

Your leg up on the barstool released a new angle for the two of you, your eyelashes fluttering as Joel found a previously undiscovered spot.

He started slow, letting your body adjust to him. How could someone as good-looking as Joel be humble about a dick like this? And he knew how to fucking use it.

You were trying to moan his name, but they just kept coming out in hot pants.

“Joel, Joel, fuck Joel!” The pleasure had now replaced the pain, a sweet sting at your core every time he ground his hips into you just right.

Joel’s thrusts never wavered, they were deliberate and calculated as he filled you to the brim. His cologne was invading your senses, mixed with his sweat.

He collected your hair in a loose ponytail, peeling your face off the bartop as your chin angled up to the ceiling. The pool table may have been for you, using his mouth to get off. But now, this was for Joel. Joel was using you good and hard, and you fucking loved it. You loved that you were what he needed tonight, and vice versa.

The sound of Joel’s hips clapping against your ass echoed throughout his bar, your hand coming back to grip onto his forearm for some sort of leverage. Some sort of control. Some sort of… anything.

But Joel made it clear that he was in charge tonight.

His tempo edged you. Once you fell close to another crashing orgasm, his thrusts feeling like they were hitting you at a million miles an hour, suddenly slowed to the flow of bumper-to-bumper rush hour traffic. It was torturous the way he had you mewling out his name in desperation one moment and then the next, he had you whining for more. But every time you neared the finish line, the overwhelmingness of it all was stronger, and you knew Joel felt it too.

Joel didn’t want you just to feel good, he wanted to change how you saw sex. No more laziness from a partner, no more vanilla positions, no more faking orgasms. This was what it felt like to be fulfilled by the real thing.

No matter how hard he tried, both of you were losing strength to put up with the passing of another orgasm.

“J-Joel-” He could barely hear his name with the sound of his front snapping into your behind. “I’m so- fuck me,- I’m so c-close,” You were sure to have bruises on your hips tomorrow, the wooden edge of the bar being nailed into you. “I’m close, please!” you whined, beginning to throw yourself into each of his thrusts which worked up a good grunt from him.

“Feel so fuckin’ good around my cock,” you twisted your head back as you felt his arm snare around your hip, his fingers slowly circling around your sensitive bud. You were gasping for air, seeing stars as he actually fed you what you wanted. He was ready to let you cum.

Your eyes weakly watched him as he fucked you over his bar. Eventually, you had to push yourself off of the front because it was pinning your hips into numbness. Your leg came down from the barstool, your back still bent over as you used your palms to flush against the edge of the bar to hold yourself up. Your head whipped back again as you became obsessed with observing him.

“You like watchin’ me fuck you, sweetheart? Little fuckin’ troublemaker.”

There were no words, it was too late. Your head dropped as your nails chipped into the wood, letting out a cry of his name as Joel continued to untie the knots in your stomach, all of them falling loose until you came.

You heard him let out a long and low groan, your barely-open eyes turning back to watch the sight of Joel finishing.

Joel could feel your walls pulsing desperately around his swollen cock, his fingers getting a little messy with your clit but he kept at it, he wasn’t going to disappoint you. That’s when it hit him, where he couldn’t hold on anymore.

He spilled his white hot cum into you, rope after rope until it was coming out in shorter streams inside your cunt. You and Joel were moaning in unison as you both finished together.

After a few moments to breathe, you gently pat his hand that was rubbing lazy circles in your clit, feeling his warm palms move to your hips as you slowly straightened out together.

You flipped your messy hair out of your face, smirking tiredly as you looked over him while he tugged his jeans and briefs back up on his hips, your eyes hypnotized by watching his rough and calloused hands easily secure his belt on.

“Uhm..” You paused as you shyly searched around for your dress a few barstools down. You went to retrieve it, Joel taking it from your hands and slipping it back on your body. You watched his face, his eyes looked through you.

Your thumb came up to his lips, watching as he did a minute flinch with how fast your hand invaded his space.

“Relax,” you tease, swiping away the red lipstick of yours that melted on the edge of his pretty mouth. He slowly relaxed as he watched you clean yourself from him, his warm palms still holding your aching hips.

You sighed, your body and mind tired from being completely blown out. Your feet were sore from your heels, you were ready to take this dress and makeup off for good tonight.

You watched with a teasing smile as Joel did a shitty job with a wet rag cleaning up where you were thrust against his bar, shaking your head at him.

“Missed a spot.”

He tutted dryly. “Funny.”

You collected your clutch and your other belongings, seeing the spot at the end of the bar where the ice you had thrown at Chris had long ago melted and was now a puddle on the floor.

“Come on, I’ll walk you out.” Joel’s voice erupted from behind you.

Your hand clutched the stray 8 ball on the pool table Joel had you laid out on, dragging it to the corner pocket before you went to meet him at the door. He unlocked it to let you out, even going up the concrete steps with you.

“It’s fine, Joel.”

He shrugs and shakes his head, looking past you once more.

“I know. Just wanna make sure you get in the cab alright.” He waved up his hand and stepped into the street, signaling a car until one pulled up to you both. You didn’t know what time it was, how late it had gotten. You probably had several missed messages from your friends to hear how your revenge breakup went. You couldn’t wait to tell them how tonight turned out for the better. Because of Joel.

Finally, he was really looking at you. And you had no idea what to say. Your lips parted, looking up at the older man who sort of saved your night.

Your eyes said it all. Thank you.

He just nodded and cocked his head towards the cab.

“Night, Joel.” You tugged open the door to the cab, tossing your purse in the backseat before sliding in as gracefully as you could. You should forget about being graceful at this point after what you’ve done.

“You gonna tell me your name before you go?” How could his question come from curiosity but his voice was as cold and bare as ever. His hand was in the window of your cab, as if holding it in place from taking off on him.

His interest made you smirk, your hand playfully plucking his fingers free from his grip on the window before giving a little shrug and not saying a word.

His eyes stray from yours and look down the road, seeing him cross his arms in front of his broad chest before he continues. “Alright, fine.” He said with a little nod. “Do you think I don’t pay attention to ID’s when I check ‘em?” He says your name, testing the waters as a shy smile creeps on your lips, his cocky little smirk was enough to make your eyes roll. “That’s alright, I’ve been calling you Trouble all night anyway.”

You sighed tiredly and smiled, tapping the cab window. “Goodnight, Joel.” You say before falling back into your seat and giving the driver your address.

“Goodnight, Trouble.”

Joel saw you off before disappearing down the concrete stairs into the Blackbird, your fingers gently ghosting over your red lipstick as you watched the city fly by.

---

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ramp-it-up · 9 months

Text

Party Games

Summary: You want it bad.

Pairing: Beefy Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word count: 2K

A/N: This wasn’t the kink y’all picked, but here we are. It’s two am. 🥴 Hope you enjoy! You can read this as a companion piece to That Face.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. SMUT! Read at your own risk; curate your own experience. Reader is owning her sexuality. This is about a nal s ex and it’s enjoyment. Allusions to past acts and partners. A teeny bit of angst, but mostly pwp. Bucky has turned reader out but he’s sprung. Drinking, bathroom s ex, mirror s ex, rough s ex, (but Bucky’s so sweet), oral s ex (f receiving), a nal, praise/degradation kink, allusion to group s ex if you squint. Not Beta’d. All errors my own.

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I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

You were having fun at game night. Until the bottle pointed Bucky’s way.

Then the fun turned into need.

“Choose anyone here to do anything with.”

“That’s easy,” Nat laughed as she rolled her eyes.

“No. I’ll give James a pass. He can go with anyone he’d like.”

You were confident of your man.

Bucky’s face lit up.

“Really Doll?”

You hesitated. You didn’t like the way he jumped at that chance. Curse your mouth that ran ahead of your brain when you were tipsy.

You fixed your face as Steve smirked at you two and took a swig of his beer.

“Really James. Live your fantasy.”

Your voice was less confident now.

You held your smile as Bucky grinned and rubbed his hands together, looking around his circle of friends.

He could choose any one of these beautiful people. You'd heard tales of how wild it got with them being in the field before you got together, and even of him and Steve, years ago.

‘Adolescent exploration,’ Bucky had called it.

You lowered your head and braced yourself as you felt him stand up. You didn’t want to see who he chose. You listened, on alert, to the sound of his shoes as he went toward the bedroom door. He stopped, presumably to make his choice.

“Get that ass in here, y/n.”

You gasped and looked behind you to see that Bucky was grinning at you. Everyone started laughing when you got up and skipped toward him.

Bucky pulled you through the bedroom to the bathroom, making sure to close both doors for extra privacy. He chuckled at you.

“How could you even think I’d choose someone else, Doll. You know you’re my one and only.”

You nodded and allowed him to pull you into his arms.

“I know. You know how I get when I drink. I get loose. Create scenarios.”

You shrugged as you smiled up at Bucky, causing his heart to skip a beat.

“You’ve had three beers, Doll. I was counting.”

“You were watching me?”

You angled your neck back as Bucky started licking your pulse point. It was a done deal that you were gonna let him fuck you in your en suite with your friends in the other room.

The question was how.

“Like a hawk, Doll. Was gonna suggest you stop after three. Need you to be sober enough to let me in. You’re a tight fit.”

Bucky’s hand was palming your cunt over your jeans and you ground yourself into the warm metal.

“It’s because you’re so big, James.”

You smirked at him.

“But how much tighter is my ass tho?”

Bucky stopped, pulled back and looked at you, eyes blazing and jaw clenching.

“Fuck. Doll. You want me to fuck ypu like that? Right now?”

Bucky licked his lips, exactly like you imagined the big bad wolf would before he tore you apart.

You whined in anticipation, your core flooding with slick. You whispered your reply to him.

“Yes, Bucky. Please. I- I’ve been thinking about the last time since the last time and I- I need it.”

You reached for him and started unbuckling his belt, a fiend.

Bucky closed his eyes as you went inside his pants and started to stroke him. He was thinking about how you wanted him to fuck you and the way it had you stuttering.

“Please, James. Pretty please?”

When he opened his eyes again, you licked your lips and pouted. How could you be begging for something so filthy yet be so adorable?

His dream girl.

Bucky panted while you handled him, your hand barely closing around his stiff, aching cock.

“Doll…I…”

You watched Bucky’s eyes dilate as he opened his mouth to breathe and you continued to stroke him. The way that you were licking your lips and looking him in the eye made Bucky realize that he was the one that taught you to be bold.

“I’m such a fucking slut for this cock. Want it in my ass, Daddy.”

“Jesus.”

You had Bucky shook. And he admired the monster he’d made.

“Yes, James. Make me your fuck doll. You know what you’ve done to me.”

And it was true.

Bucky Barnes had ruined you.

Turned you out.

Reduced you to a dripping, quivering, distracted mess whenever you thought about it.

You wanted him to do that sweet, dark, feral thing all the time.

All the time.

Something about being impaled on his pretty, hard, huge cock, stretched to your limits, feeling pleasure that was just on the razor's edge of pain and pleasure that had you hooked.

Oh, and when Bucky led you over that edge into that intense pleasure …

God.. you were addicted to it.

That first time, he was gentle, oh so gentle. And, as he promised, he’d made it feel oh so good.

Bucky teased you, pleased you, coaxed you, ate you, stretched you, lubed you, then eased into you so slowly and sweetly that you were on cloud nine the entire time.

And you’d cum harder than you ever had before.

Then Bucky took care of you with a hot bath, food, water, and rest.

The more you did the deed, the more wanton you were for it. You moved, arched, grabbed, and begged for it.

Tonight, the added bonus of people a few feet away had you heated, glowing hot.

And Bucky was like a moth to a flame.

He took you by the waist and brought his mouth to yours, making you open for him in this way first, wanting the tenderness on your lips at the moment. He backed you up to the sink, and left you breathless as he drew away, opening the medicine cabinet.

You were looking down at Bucky’s cock playing peekaboo in your hand as he searched behind you. You looked up when he suddenly exclaimed.

“Ah HA!”

Bucky brought a brand new bottle of lube around in front of you and your heart started beating double time.

Setting the lube down on the counter, Bucky reached for the button on your jeans, sliding your zipper down. His thick, metal index finger traced the slit in your panties, divining your wetness.

“How long were you thinking about this today? Hmmmmm?”

Bucky looked down on you possessively, demanding an account of your intimate thoughts. He took in the lust on your face and reveled in the fact that you really wanted this. His mouth descended toward yours before you had a chance to answer.

Bucky loved making love to you, fucking you, taking you apart and putting you back together. But this kind of connection was the most intimate to him.

It was not just because it felt amazing being inside your delicate, snug walls, but because this uncharted territory yielded just for him. Bucky was not into virginity as a concept, but damn, knowing that he’d made you into this brazen, begging goddess, that you’d let him into a place so sacred to you rendered him a slave to your pleasure, which he could tell was intense.

Bucky turned you around so that you faced the mirror and he pulled up your tank top, exposing your breasts to the bright bathroom light.

“You wore this with no bra on purpose, didn’t you?”

Bucky just stared at your chest instead of touching like you wanted him to, expecting an answer as he pressed his black-jeaned bulge against your ass.

“Yes, James.”

Bucky’s jaw clenched and he lowered his lips to your neck while his hands came up and played with your nipples, slowly and tenderly circling your areolas. You arched into his hands; you wanted it rough.

The sound you made when he started pulling was everything.

“Eyes open. Watch what I do to you.”

You watched Bucky watch your face and your open mouthed breathing.

When your eyes connected he said, “Good girl.”

You turned your head and kissed him before he grabbed your open jeans and pulled them down your body, kneeling behind you as he took them off.

Bucky sat back on his haunches and looked at you, running his hands up and down your thighs, grabbing your ass and admiring your anatomy.

“So gotdamn beautiful, Doll.”

You shivered as he started kissing your legs, and soon, but not soon enough, licking into your heat.

Bucky’s moans as he participated in his fine dining was enough to make you cum, or maybe it was the anticipation.

It didn’t matter, because by the time he stood up and told you to, “Bend over, Doll,” your knees were already weak.

You watched Bucky tear the plastic off the bottle of lube with his teeth, plucking your own nipples now.

“You ready?”

It was a purely rhetorical question as you moaned in response.

Bucky watched in awe as the cool lube dripped onto your ass and you arched to meet it. A thick metal middle finger quickly warmed both the liquid and you. You let him fuck you there digitally until you begged for him.

“Need you James…please!”

Bucky grunted, reaching around for your clit again.

“Give me one more, Doll.”

His human hand was magic as he worked you from both front and back. Once he had what he wanted, he pulled back to take off his pants and looked down at his prize.

“Shirt too, please.”

He couldn’t deny your look in the mirror; Bucky loved how you loved his body completely.

Finally, he was teasing your tight hole with his cock, sparking electricity and rivulets of slick in your core. You could tell he was holding back because his jaw was clenched and his movements were tentative.

When you bent down and pushed back onto him was when his eyes rolled and you saw his head hang back on his shoulders.

“Holy mother of…. Damn, Doll.”

Soon his eyes were back on yours in the mirror as you fucked yourself back on him.

“Remember when I had to beg you to fuck this sweet ass, Doll?”

Bucky looked down at his thick cock breaching your tight hole. Then he pulled you upright and flush against him for control, one hand around your neck and the other in your cunt as he pounded inside your tightness.

Bucky searched your glazed expression in the mirror, your head lolled back against his flesh shoulder as you rode his cock and his metal hand. Three of his warm, vibrating metal fingers were deep inside your cunt as he slowly fucked your puckered hole.

“Now you beg me.”

“Hmmm. Ummm hmmmm.”

You nodded, mouth open for air as you let the pleasure take over you.

“You really are all mine, aren’t you?”

“Yesss Jamesssss…Ohhhhh yesss.”

The third orgasm while he was buried in you made Bucky wild, and he started pumping in earnest, keenly tuned into your sounds for any sign of discomfort. All you felt was his thick dick pulling and dragging inside the most sensitive parts of you.

And pure rapture.

“I can take it. Give it please!”

At that point Bucky had to stop, and pulled your head up as he whispered in your ear. You could feel his huge cock pumping in time with his heartbeat inside you.

“My beautiful complete cock slut. Such a good fucking girl for me.”

They way he bared his teeth as he snarled it in your ear caused you to spasm again as he fully wrecked you now, pumping voluminous amounts of cum inside you.

“Holy fuck!”

Bucky bit down on your shoulder as you laughed, still impaled on his softening cock. You curled your legs up as he carried you over to the shower and turned it on, him finally releasing you to kiss you thoroughly against the shower wall.

“We’re being rude to our guests, Bucky.”

“Wanna invite them to join us?”

You smirked as you turned around and Bucky started washing your back.

“I draw the line at those party games.”

“Me too,” Bucky smirked, “you’re all mine, Doll.”

“Now let me clean you up…”

And Bucky’s hand was between your legs…

As always: If you liked it, please reblog.

#Bucky Barnes #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes x black female reader #bucky x reader #bucky imagine #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x female reader #beefy bucky #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x reader smut #Bucky Barnes x reader #bucky smut #beefy boyfriend Bucky Barnes

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bobawitch · 6 months

Text

Sweater Weather | M.S.

summary: reader makes a crochet sweater for her boyfriend matt. she later sees him wearing it in their next podcast

pairing: matt x fem!reader

a/n: tbh i dont love this fic but i hope yall like it. a nick fic and a chris fic as well as a new chapter of lets trip are on their way so be on the lookout.

wc: 878

cw: fluff, that should be it

Matt had been your boyfriend for almost 2 years by now. You had been in plenty of videos and even a few podcasts and for the most part the fans really loved you. That had been a huge concern for you and Matt, so when the fans had an uproar of support and love you found yourself feeling much more comfortable.

On that specific day you had been crocheting while watching some of the triplets videos along with some of Larray’s. You had wanted to make Matt a sweater ever since you started crocheting but you had kept this little project a secret. Your phone began to ring and you looked down to see a facetime from Matt. Immediately you grabbed your phone and picked up, smiling at Matt’s face. “Hey baby” You smiled and waved at Matt through the phone, setting it up so he could only see your face. “Hi love, how’s your day been?” You continued to crochet the last few rows of the sweater, smiling down at your work. “Good, we just got done filming for Friday. How has yours been?” You shrugged and began folding the sweater. It wasn’t the best work but it looked good enough that you didn’t feel the need to remake it. It was blue and white and black, it was fluffy and had some skulls and hearts on it. “Good, I’ve been working on a little something for you actually.” Matt’s eyes grew wide and he made a small o with his mouth before smiling.” “Can I see??” You grinned and shook your head. “No but you can come over and I’ll give it to you.” Matt fake pouted before you heard some rustling. Soon after you hear a few keys jingling. “I’ll be over in 10.” You nodded, biting your thumb nail with a smile. “Ok, see you soon.” The call hung up shortly after and you turned off the TV before properly folding up the sweater and putting it in an old present bag.

After a few more minutes you hear your front door open and you walk around the corner to find Matt. You immediately give him a hug, burying your face in his chest. “Hey love, you miss me?” Matt chuckled through his question since you hugged him so harshly. You mumbled and nodded, smiling and looking up at him. “Yeah.” He smiled down at you before pressing a kiss to your forehead. “You wanna see your gift?” Matt eagerly nodded before letting you go. You grabbed his hand before leading him into your living room. You grabbed the little bag and handed it to him, smiling and watching him open the gift. He pulled the pale blue sweater from the bag and a big smile crossed his lips as he examined it. “Oh my god, did you make this?” You nodded with a sheepish grin across your face. “Oh my god, Y/N! I love it!” Your cheeks became warm and you moved to hug Matt who enveloped you quickly. He hugged you tight around the waist and picked you up, spinning you in a circle before kissing you. You kissed back, your hands finding their way in his messy hair. Soon you pulled away and smiled at the boy. Your forehead rested against his as you both caught your breath. "Are you gonna wear it all the time?" You asked, knowing your question came from a teasing place. Matt grinned wide, finally setting you down and allowing his hands to rest lazily on your hips. "Of course I am. I'm tempted to never take it off, baby." Your cheeks tinted pink at his reply, mainly because you knew he was dead serious. Your own lips curled into a smile as you wrapped your arms around his waist in a tight hug.

About 5 days later you got the notification that Matt and his brothers had posted their weekly podcast. You of course planned to watch it but as you went to click on the video you noticed what Matt was wearing in the thumbnail. It was the sweater you had made him. You smiled to yourself, biting the top of your thumb nail before pressing play on the video. You finished the video and started scrolling through the comments, a few were about Matt’s outfit which made you grin from ear to ear. As you basked in the glory of having both Matt and his fairly harsh fans like your sweater, your phone began to ring. It was a facetime from Matt. You picked up and smiled, “I liked your outfit in the podcast baby.” Matt grinned and moved the camera to show that he was still wearing it. “When did you guys film that podcast?” “Oh like, the day after you gave it to me.” You smiled, nodding in a sudden understanding. “Well I’m glad you like it.” Matt smiled, bringing his phone closer to him, as if he could hug you through the screen. “I love it baby, thank you so much for making it for me.” Your cheeks became warm as you mimicked his movements, holding the phone close to you. “I love you Matt.” You said, your voice barely above a whisper. “I love you too Y/N.”

#sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo #sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo imagines #bobawitch writes

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unseededtoast · 2 months

Text

Thin Air | Spencer Reid x F! Reader

Summary: In which you realize how much you lost when you accepted a new job, and that you may be destined to only share fleeting moments with the one who has your heart.

Also cross-posted on Wattpad and AO3. Link to my masterlist for everything else I’ve posted

wc: 6.6k

"Spencer, please." You beg through your moans.

"Be patient, baby."

Five years ago

The door slams shut behind you as your coat gets taken off and discarded somewhere in the apartment. Your senses are a blur, the only thing you can bother to concentrate on is exploring every inch of Spencer.

His lips connect with yours sloppily, a heated exchange that you've waited for since the day you started working at the BAU.

His lithe fingers unbutton your shirt with ease as you tangle your fingers in his hair. You gently tug, eliciting a breathy moan from him; it's music to your ears and you can't get enough.

The two of you stumble through his apartment clumsily, neither of you able to stay apart from the other long enough to normally walk to the bedroom. You follow his lead blindly until the back of your legs hit the edge of his bed. Without thinking twice, you lay back, quickly followed by Spencer who is determined to kiss every square inch of your body.

The room is filled with the sounds of breathy moans from the both of you, Spencer's lips on your neck finding your sweet spot. Your eyes flutter shut as your fingers begin undoing his shirt, the two of you are still fully clothed and you're doing your best to rectify that immediately.

You feel Spencer smirk as you unbutton his shirt with trembling fingers and he shrugs it off quickly and makes quick work of your own. Your heated skin melds with his and the closer contact makes your jaw fall slack. You're convinced that if you can't feel all of him soon that you might combust.

"Spencer, please." You beg through your moans as he takes his time working his way down your body. His fingers trace every curve of you, as if he's making a detailed mental map of your body. He grabs the soft skin of your hips and tugs your pants off as if it were the easiest thing in the world.

"Shh be patient, baby." He answers, licking his lips before placing sloppy kisses on your thighs. Your fingers find their way back into his wavy hair, and his find the plumpness of your hips and pulls you closer to him.

All coherent thoughts leave your mind as you sink further and further into a bliss-filled oblivion, and all you care about is the man kneeling in front of you.

Your only regret is not acting on your feelings sooner, leaving you with only this one night with him.

-----

Spencer walks into work the next day feeling conflicted and anxious. You hadn't been beside him when he woke up this morning like he expected. Of course, he's trying to tell himself you probably just went home to get ready for work, surely you didn't want to come in wearing yesterday's clothes.

But as the hours tick by without any sign of you, his stomach starts twisting itself in knots. He checks his phone for any message from you just to find an empty lock screen. Trying to ease his nerves he sends you a quick message, asking if you're okay. And he checks his phone compulsively for any notification for the next hour.

After he sends the message he tries his best to casually ask around about if anyone has heard from you today. The others all say no, and they don't seem too concerned, they chalk it up to a hangover from last night. But you didn't have that much to drink. Spencer's mind races with worst-case scenarios but tries to stay calm. Maybe you had ditched work because you didn't want to see him, or maybe something bad happened to you.

His foot taps against the floor at lightning speed as he checks his phone one more time. No response. Something within him is telling him something is wrong. And so he moves without thinking and heads to Hotch's office. The worry must've been obvious on his face as Hotch motions for him to take a seat.

"I assume you're here because she didn't show up today." Hotch guesses correctly, and Spencer nods in confirmation. Hotch grabs a piece of paper off his desk and reads over the words once before handing the letter to Spencer. His eyes quickly read the words in seconds and by the time he's read it four times over his stomach drops.

You weren't coming back to the BAU. And you don't say why.

Spencer hurriedly pushes the paper back into Hotch's hands before excusing himself. He tugs at the collar of his shirt as he rushes to get some fresh air. His mind is spinning for answers, and for the first time in a long time, he cannot find one.

-----

Present Day

You squint your eyes against the sun as you watch the front door of the house you had been tasked to stake out with your partner. Today is the deadline your supervisor had given you, and so far you had no results to show for your month-long surveillance mission. You had a sneaking suspicion the target had figured out he was being tailed and moved locations, but of course, you had nothing to back that up.

"I don't think we're going to see him in the next five minutes." Your partner sighs beside you, checking his watch. Angrily, you chew on the inside of your cheek, frustrated to have no results.

"I know he's gone somewhere else." You eventually say, turning the key to start the car so the two of you can go back and report to your supervisor.

"Yeah I know, I think so too. But we have no way of knowing where. I can't believe how slippery this guy is!" Your partner exclaims in disbelief as you begin driving back to headquarters. You huff,

"There's gotta be something there in his behavior that we just aren't seeing." You say, gripping the steering wheel tight. After all your years at the BAU you're unable to correctly profile the target. It's embarrassing and you've become all too frustrated with yourself.

The rest of the drive goes by in silence, the two of you are too wrapped up in the failure to say anything. And once you reach headquarters, the both of you take your time getting to the office, knowing that your supervisor is waiting for answers that you simply don't have.

But eventually you make your way up there. Your supervisor is waiting with crossed arms and a stern expression on her face. Your partner speaks first, admitting your shortcomings as a team. Your supervisor looks thoroughly annoyed with the results, and you know exactly what you have to do next. You just hope it doesn't come back to bite you.

"We should call in my old team. They're the best of the best, world-class profilers. I guarantee they'll be able to help us out." Your voice is confident, masking the nerves that twist your stomach.

"And you're sure of this?" Your supervisor asks with a cocked eyebrow. Nodding your head, you confirm

"I know they will." You say with finality. With a sigh, your supervisor agrees to contact them.

As you turn and walk away from your supervisor's office, you hope that you didn't just make a mistake. You had up and left your team out of nowhere, for all you know they could resent you for what you did. But, you know there's no better team on this planet than them, and this target needs to be caught before more people are killed.

-----

"Pack your bags everyone, we've been called in by the CIA to assist in one of their cases. We will be briefed on the plane, it'll be a short trip." Hotch announces as everyone gathered around the table. There's a stoic look on his face that tells Spencer the case they've been called to help on is of a serious nature.

Given thirty minutes to prepare, Spencer takes his time and makes a cup of coffee for the trip before collecting his go-bag. He always keep a bag for short trips and a bag for long trips in case something like this springs up. He learned the hard way that being underprepared is a recipe for disaster in the field.

Once the team settles in their usual spots on the plane, Hotch begins briefing everyone on the case.

"We've been called to assist in locating James Barnes, wanted for several counts of murder in five different countries. It seems he's evaded CIA efforts to tail him, they need our help in decoding his behaviors to determine where he's likely to go next. This is a top secret mission, nobody outside of this team and the CIA will know what's going on." Hotch's explanation is short and sweet. The gravity of the mission weighs heavily on Spencer as he usually works on geographic profiles. But he knows that as a team they're likely to succeed.

The trip to the CIA headquarters doesn't take long at all, and before Spencer's finished his cup of coffee, they're unloading from the plane. Somebody will take their belongings to the hotel while they immediately start on the case. Spencer's glad he made this cup of coffee, as he thinks this is bound to be an exhausting case.

He follows Derek into the briefing room they've been ushered into and takes a seat at the table, setting his cup on the sleek glass before taking a seat. And as he settles in he looks to the CIA team in charge of the mission, his eyes landing right on you.

Spencer feels like the world has stopped spinning and the blood in his veins has turned to ice. After years of not knowing where you were, here you stand in front of him alongside some of the most renowned CIA agents.

-----

You've got about fifteen minutes before the team's plane lands but you're not sure your heart will survive that long with the way it's pounding in your chest. You pace around your office to try and work off some anxiety but it doesn't seem to be working.

Nausea creeps in behind the anxiety and your stomach feels like it's been tied into a knot. A part of you thinks you might be having some sort of medical emergency. But you know it's just because you're scared.

You're scared of seeing your old team again, possibly with your replacement. You don't know if they hate you, if they think you're dead, or anything else they may have presumed from your absence. It's the not knowing that's driving you up the wall. But fifteen minutes comes and goes and before you're prepared, you're walking to the conference room.

Your partner and supervisor are already there, waiting for the team when you walk in. You take a seat next to your partner and straighten your clothes, wanting to look your best and not as disheveled as you feel.

"So you really have that much faith in these guys?" Your partner asks, snapping you out of your trance. You blink a few times, processing what he's said until you find an answer.

"I do." Short, simple, and not at all good at masking your nerves. You hear several footsteps coming down the hall and know the time has come.

Hotch is the first to walk in, followed closely by Emily, JJ, Penelope, Derek, and then Spencer. The sight of him alone is enough to send you spiraling. Your lungs burn for oxygen and your eyes beg you to blink but all you can focus on is the tall man who you've never fallen out of love with.

You watch as he takes a seat and situates himself next to Derek. And then, after he sets his coffee down, his eyes scan the room. And then they land on you.

It's as if the air has been forcefully sucked from your body, like you had just been kicked in the chest. For a brief moment it sounds like you're underwater and the edges of your vision make it seem like you're in a tunnel.

But thankfully the sound of your supervisor speaking breaks his gaze from you. You bite down hard on the skin inside your cheek, begging yourself to stay seated and composed. You're keenly aware by now that every single one of your old teammates is staring you down like they've just seen a ghost. And in a way they have, you were supposed to disappear without a trace, yet here you sit.

Your supervisor introduces the team to you and you to the team, as if you were all complete strangers. A pit in your stomach tells you that this is going to be the most complicated case you've ever worked, and a voice in the back of your mind wonders if calling the BAU was a mistake after all.

But deep down you know that it doesn't matter in the end. After all, you're going to vanish from them once again when they return home. It's the design of the job. A heartbreaking, but effective, design. One that you almost regret signing up for.

-----

After your supervisor has introduced the BAU to the case, Hotch is given permission to split up the team into their most effective specialties. Emily and JJ are tasked to stay with your partner and assist him with his leads, Penelope is assigned to work her magic with the computer, which leaves you to be assigned with Derek and Spencer.

Hotch had to have done this on purpose. But he doesn't stick around long to watch the fallout of his decision. Instead, he follows your supervisor out of the room, leaving you alone with Derek and Spencer.

The room is full of tension, one that weighs heavily on you. It's difficult for you to even look at them, much less assist them in the investigation. Why wouldn't Hotch have assigned Emily and JJ to stay with you? That surely would've worked out a lot better for everyone. But perhaps this is your bad karma catching up to you for what you did to them.

Swallowing your pride, you decide you can no longer ignore their presence. You lift your eyes from the floor and look at Derek first, not having it within you to look at Spencer. Derek looks back with an intense gaze, one that you're not sure is welcoming.

"So this is where you've been?" He questions, looking around the briefing room. You nod your head,

"Yeah, I've been here, working this mission." You tell him the truth. He hums in response, leaving the room to fall back into an uncomfortable silence.

But you can only take it for so long. Eventually, you break the silence and decide to just give them work to do and hopefully that takes up everyone's time and attention. You put a map up on a board, one that you had already been working on and you explain the markings. The suspect's theorized hiding spots, where his associates live, and where he was most recently spotted until he was lost.

Both Spencer and Derek study the map while you step to the back of the room. A part of you hopes their fresh perspective is enough to crack the case in a day. At least that way you could disappear once more and never have to face their judgmental looks again.

However, as you stand behind them, you can't help but to miss your BAU days. There were several cases where the three of you worked alongside one another just like this. Back when you were head over heels for Spencer, but kept it a secret. You miss those days, the ones you thought were inconsequential and boring, and you realize that you took it all for granted.

At the BAU you had friends who cared about you, and you for them. You had a team of the most supportive people on this Earth. And you threw it all to the side when the CIA offered you a position. You had been starstruck by being recruited that you failed to see what you truly had to give up before it was too late. Sure, you got paid more and got to work on higher profile cases, but these people here don't care about you like the BAU does. No, the people here chase their own accolades and couldn't care less about anyone else but themselves.

And perhaps, in a way, you had become that selfish as well. After all, you had only acted on your feelings for Spencer once you knew you had secured the job. You wanted to experience him before you left, and you didn't once regard his feelings about the situation. It was entirely selfish, and something you had come to deeply regret. If you could turn back time, you know you either would have acted on your feelings sooner, or not have said anything at all. Either of those outcomes would have been better than what you did to him.

-----

Hours later you find yourself in the break room for a snack. Having the BAU here meant that your regular hours had been thrown out the window, and while they're here working, you're here working as well. They have not been given permission to work this case unsupervised. And one thing you know for certain about your old team is that they work tirelessly until they find an answer.

The harsh light from the fridge burns your dry eyes, but the sound of approaching footsteps forces you to choose something. You land on an apple that had been in there for a few days, you figure it's good enough. The footsteps enter the room and you see Penelope walking in, looking like she's ready to sleep for the next three weeks straight.

She sees you and gives a polite smile, which makes your heart sink. Usually you and Penelope went on and on about anything and everything under the sun. She must have felt burned by your abrupt exit from the team as well. And you can't blame her, if the roles were reversed you know you'd feel at least a little bitter. But you can't stand the coldness from her, it makes you want to repair the relationships that were damaged. And so before you can even think things through, you speak up.

"I am sorry, I hope you know that. I wasn't allowed to tell anyone where I was going." Your voice is hoarse from working long hours. Penelope stops in her tracks and looks over to you, a softness in her eyes.

"I looked for you everywhere and I couldn't find you. I thought something had happened. I never stopped looking." She says, her voice breaking which causes your heart to feel like it's been shredded into a million little pieces.

"I can't tell you how sorry I am to have done this to you and the team. Trust me, if I could go back and do things differently, I would. But I'm glad you all are here now." You say, telling her the truth. You are glad they're here, and you figure this might be your last chance to patch things up with your old team.

"I'm glad we came too. At least we know now that you're okay." She says and picks up a granola bar. You can tell from the way she moves to the door that she doesn't want to talk much, and so you let her go.

It must be a lot for them to process, and you try to give them some space to process their feelings about everything. And before you leave for the night, you promise yourself that you're going to apologize to every single person. Whether they accept it or not isn't in your control, but you know you have to extend your sorrows, so that they know you regret how you left them.

-----

The next few days go by uneventfully. You met the team here and Derek and Spencer worked together, leaving you out of most of their conversations. Of course, you still listened in, you just weren't treated as an active participant, even though this is technically your mission. However, you can't find it within yourself to protest much.

The BAU had come up with some interesting developments, and you know you likely only have two more days at most with them. You're not sure whether you want time to speed up or slow down. As they talk about another theory, you find yourself looking at Spencer and remembering how good things between the two of you had been.

You and Spencer had bonded relatively quickly when you first started at the BAU. The two of you were the newest on the team, and everything felt seamless with him. Both of you shared an affinity for learning, and there were many times you'd drive the rest of the team crazy by talking nonstop on the flight. And of course, over the years you had formed quite the crush on Spencer. For years you kept it to yourself, up until the night before you were scheduled to leave.

But here he is now, right in front of you after all these years. He's just as tall as you remember, but he's filled out some, and his hair is longer now too. You admire the way it curls around the nape of his neck and appreciate the veins in his hands as he points to a spot on the map. His shirt sleeves have been pushed to his elbows, and you cannot deny how good he looks.

Derek breaks you out of your trance of admiration as he tells Spencer his coffee order. Neither of them ask for yours, and so you let Spencer leave without saying a word, leaving just you and Derek alone.

Derek had also been a close friend, and you know he always took things to heart. You can't imagine how badly you had hurt him by vanishing. He sits at the table, and leans back in his seat to stretch. Running a hand over your face, you know your time has come to finally talk to him. And so like Penelope, you start off with an apology.

"I hope you know I never meant to hurt you all by leaving. They wouldn't let me tell anyone." You offer, trying to minimize the damage, though you know there's nothing you can say that will truly make it all better. Derek looks over to you with an unreadable expression.

"We didn't know what happened. You just left a letter and disappeared." You hear a tinge of anger in his voice.

"I know. And I am sorry, I really am. I love all of you, and I'm sorry that I've caused so much pain." You tell him from the bottom of your heart. Derek looks away and sighs, opening and closing his mouth a few times before deciding what he wants to say.

"We're glad that you're okay, all of us were worried about you, and we couldn't find you. You should've seen Spencer, I've never seen him so upset before. But, I understand why you did it." He says, finally looking back over to you, meeting your eyes.

"Thank you for understanding." You say, thankful that at least one of them has at least a hint of forgiveness for you.

"And you know, if you ever get tired of this CIA thing, we're always here for you. Might have to convince Hotch you're not a flight risk though." He cracks a smile.

"Yeah, I wish I could come back. I was young and dumb and naive when I took this offer. Got caught up in the name and the secrecy of it all, I didn't know what I had right in front of me." You tell him, wanting to get some of your regrets off your chest. He shrugs,

"It's not a bad gig, they chose one of the best to recruit, I'll give them that." He says as the door opens and Spencer returns with the coffees.

Spencer ignores you, and the two of them pick up where they left off. And they work and work until they finally come to a consensus. They believe they know where the suspect is.

The entire team is reconvened back into the briefing room, and you're sat next to your partner, trying to avoid looking directly at anyone. You still have a lot of apologies to make, and so little time to do it. They had solved this quicker than you thought, and your heart races as you realize you may not be able to extend amends to the rest of the team in time.

Hotch delivers the profile and findings, and soon, a tactical team is sent out to retrieve the suspect. You and the rest of the BAU stay behind and watch the situation from the control room. Your heart thumps in your chest as you watch the agents break down the front door. Gunfire is exchanged and you grip the edge of the desk as you watch with wide eyes, worried about those on the front line.

But soon enough, they've got the suspect in cuffs and walk him out of the home. A sound of celebration fills the room, and you stare at the screen with a slack jaw, watching the subject you tried to track tirelessly being shoved into an armored car. Someone claps you on the back and makes you look away from the screen. Your partner smiles widely and holds his arms out for a celebratory hug.

He picks you up and spins you around before he puts you back on the ground. You smile at him as the two of you celebrate this win. After all, you two had been partnered together for a while now, and you don't know if you'll continue working with him as this mission moves into its next phase. As you turn back to watch the screen, you see Spencer leaving the room. Your smile falters and you debate whether or not you should follow him. But before you can even make a decision, Derek steps into your line of vision.

"Come out with us tonight, one last time." He smirks, and you're taken aback by the invitation. You figured the others would still be too angry with you to even want you there, but by the subtle hint of a smirk on Hotch's face, you begin to think that maybe they're not as angry as you think.

"Yeah, I'll be there." You smile, excited to spend one last night with your team.

-----

Hours later you find yourself in a crowded bar with your old team. You've elected to take a seat beside Derek, seeing as he's been the most forgiving. Penelope sits across from you, leaving one empty seat beside you. You can still feel some tension from them, but they seem to have loosened up a little.

The first round of drinks come and you start jumping into conversations here and there, and thankfully, nobody seems to mind. It almost feels like you never left, and this is just another night out after a win. However, there's one person missing that would make this night complete. But, he probably didn't want to come after finding out you were going to be here, and you don't blame him. It does make your heart sink a little though.

Round one turns to round two and three quickly, and you start feeling the effects of just a little too much tequila. While some of the others wander away for a bit, you scoot closer to JJ and Emily, taking this as your time to offer them amends. You get their attention and clear your throat, trying to put your words together in a coherent sentence.

"Before you all go, I just wanted to say how sorry I am for what I did. I miss you all more than you know, but I'm glad I got to see you again." The liquor makes your emotions feel like they're amplified, and you feel the burning of tears in your lower lash line. Emily and JJ both give you a sympathetic smile.

"We know, better than anyone here, how the CIA operates. We understand." Emily speaks for the both of them, and JJ agrees with her. Unable to keep yourself together, you envelope the two of them in a hug, knowing you're going to grieve the loss of them all over again in the morning.

After you let them go, you take a few steps backward, but run into someone.

"I am so sor-" Your words get caught in your throat as you look up and meet familiar hazel eyes. Spencer towers over you, his hand on your elbow to keep you from falling.

You don't know if it's your imagination, the liquor, or if it's real, the way he looks into your eyes. If you didn't know any better, you'd think he misses you too. But you know that surely can't be the case considering how you left him. He releases the grip he's got on your elbow and clears his throat.

"It's okay." He says, offering a flat-lined smile that seems to adorn his face quite often. And in that moment, it's almost like the rest of the bar disappears, that it's only the two of you in this room. You've got tunnel vision, only being able to focus on Spencer.

Taking in his appearance, he looks a lot better up close than he did across the room. You can see all the shades of green in his eyes, the different honey tones in his hair. You can even see the shadow of stubble that decorates his jawline. He looks just like your Spencer, just a little more grown up. Your heartrate increases and you know that if you don't take this opportunity, that you might never get it again. And so, without putting much thought into your words, you go for it.

"Spencer, can we um, can we go talk somewhere?" You ask, worried that he's going to turn you down. He licks his lips and looks around the bar and for a moment you truly think he's going to reject your offer.

"Sure." He answers instead and you nod your head in surprise.

You lead him outside of the bar, where the crisp wind cuts into you, leaving you feeling more breathless. You and Spencer walk a few feet away from the entrance and stop underneath a flickering street lamp. His features are illuminated beautifully in the soft amber glow. Unable to look at him directly as you speak, you stare at the sidewalk underneath your feet as you offer him the apology he deserves.

"Spencer, I can't even begin to tell you how much I regret what I did to you. It wasn't right, and you didn't deserve to be treated that way." Your voice cracks in the middle of your sentence. When he doesn't answer right away, you lift your gaze from the concrete to look at him, seeing him staring intensely at you, eyebrows furrowed and eyes narrow.

"I was worried sick about you. I thought you left because of me up until a few days ago." He said and you can hear the anger that lies just beneath his words.

"I'm sorry." Is all you can say. Though you know it's insufficient, it's the only thing you can think of to say.

"And I tried to contact you so many times. You have no idea how much I've missed you." His anger turns to sadness, and you see the tip of his nose turn rosy pink, which causes your throat to constrict.

"They wouldn't let me tell anyone where I was going or when. I didn't know how restrictive this mission would be when I signed up. If I knew, I don't think I could've taken it." You admit to him.

Silence lingers between the two of you for a beat, both of you looking into the other's eyes, searching for the person they knew all those years ago. Searching for the familiarity and the comfort you had become so accustomed to, something that feels so distant and foreign now.

"But you did, and now you're gone." His voice is barely above a whisper, and you can't deny anything he's said.

"I know, and I'm sorry." You wipe your nose as you apologize again and shiver from the cold wind. Spencer's eyes look you over from head to toe before he sighs,

"Come with me." He offers his arm for you to take, which you happily do. You intertwine your arm with his, and walk down the street to wherever he's taking you.

The walk is silent and short. It's not long before the two of you walk into the hotel lobby, the one where they're staying you assume. It's a nice hotel, just a few blocks away from the bar. Spencer leads you to his room on the fifth floor and lets you into his room.

His suitcase sits on the foot of the bed, an extra pair of shoes by the door. The door clicks shut behind him and your stomach twists with nerves. Luckily the tequila helps a little with your anxiety, and you watch as Spencer takes off his shoes and moves his suitcase.

"Come over here." He invites you to sit next to him on the bed. You leave a respectful amount of space between the two of you. You're not sure why he brought you here, but you're happy he did. You've missed him so much, and you clench a hand into a fist to keep from reaching out to him.

He pushes a strand of hair behind his ear and sighs as he looks you over. Once again it makes your heart pound and your skin grow warm.

"I just need to know you didn't actually leave because of what we did. If you regret it, that's fine. I just, I need to know." He says with some desperation and you can tell he still blames himself for you leaving the team. You shake your head,

"No, Spencer. God, no. I've missed you every single day that I've been gone." You tell him, no longer able to keep yourself from reaching out. Your hand lands on his thigh, and he places his over yours and squeezes.

"Will you ever come back?" He asks, eyes wide and round, pleading. Your chest tightens, your heartstrings feel as if they're snapping. What you wouldn't give to just go back with him.

"The mission isn't over yet. I don't know when it will be, catching Barnes was only one step." You tell him, violating the terms of your clearance level. He nods, disappointed with your answer.

"It is the CIA after all, I don't know what I expected." He laughs bitterly, and in that moment you regret taking the job wholeheartedly.

"Please trust me when I say that when I can return to you, I will. I promise you, Spencer, I will find you again." You fight the tears that threaten to spill, and he raises his hand to wipe one away from the corner of your eye.

"I believe you." He whispers, and you nod, happy to know that he understands you don't want to go again.

You move your hand from his thigh up to his face, stroking his cheekbone with your thumb. He leans into your touch, as if he'd been craving it since the day you left. His eyes flutter shut as he enjoys the feeling of your skin on his.

His hand moves across the covers of the bed and lands on your thigh, where his thumb strokes small circles. Spencer's touch is warm and comforting. You move closer to him, so that your legs are touching and there's not but a few inches of space between the two of you. He opens his eyes lazily and blinks a few times, his long, dark lashes complimenting his features well.

Your heart rate speeds up as his touch on you becomes firmer. You lick your lips and before you can talk yourself out of it, you pull him to you by the collar of his shirt. Your lips meet one another with a soft intensity. He cups your face and holds you close as you hang onto his shirt.

It's only when your lungs start burning do you pull away from each other. Lips glistening and swollen, everything seems to happen at once. Spencer pulls you into his lap, where his lips connect with your jaw, your head thrown back in pleasure. Your fingers tangle in his hair as his travels lower, planting kisses on your neck.

With a gentle touch, he lays you back on the bed where he runs his hands alongside your body, feeling every curve. You feel your face flush and mouth fall open as he tightly grips the soft skin of your hips. It's like he's a starved man and you're the oasis in the middle of a desert.

You pull him back to your face and connect your lips with his once more, not wanting to rush things, not this time. You savor the way he tastes and the way he caresses your body.

Your hands eventually run down his chest where they undo the buttons of his shirt, and he's quick to return the favor. His fingers undo the buttons of yours, but he seems to slow down and take his time. And once there's nothing between the two of you, he stares in awe, like you're a statue carved of marble.

"Spencer, please." You say, not being able to handle not having his hands on your body. He smiles, showing off his perfect teeth.

"Shh, be patient baby. You look so beautiful." He says before kneeling on the floor.

He kisses your ankle up to your knee, from your knee to your thigh, thigh to collarbone, before planting a passionate kiss on your lips. His hands travel to where you need him the most, and he works slowly but with care.

You're breathless under his touch and you try to commit to memory the way he feels, for you don't know if you'll ever be afforded this luxury again.

The two of you treat each other as if you're made of porcelain; gentle with your touches and kisses. You both savor each other's tender touches as you become one, looking into each other's eyes and communicating what you cannot with words.

You move in tandem with one another, as if you were made for each other. You swallow every moan that escapes his lips, wrapping your legs around him to bring him impossibly closer. In the soft light Spencer looks ethereal and you appreciate his beauty. Your hands cup his face and you know that you will never be able to find a beauty such as him. Everything about Spencer Reid is other-worldly, nothing of this Earth could even begin to compare. No light will ever shine as bright as the ones in his eyes, and no song could ever sound as good as the breathy moans he lets out in your ear. Nothing could ever feel as good as his hands on you, or the way he moves within you.

Nobody can ever compare to Spencer.

And as you spend the night with him, limbs tangled with one another's, you know nobody could possibly have your heart like he does.

But as the sun rises on the horizon, you know your time with him has come to a bitter end. With tears running down your cheeks, you kiss him on the forehead and push a piece of hair away from his face, wanting to see him just one more time.

As the first bird of the morning begins singing its song, you turn the handle of the door, sparing one last glance to Spencer, who looks ever so peaceful in bed. And only after you've committed the image to memory do you turn away and walk out of the room, vanishing into thin air once more.

#spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x you #dr spencer reid #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid smut #mgg #criminal minds smut #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fandom #doctor spencer reid

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ewanmitchellcrumbs · 8 months

Text

Who Taught You How to Love Like That? - Chapter Five

Pairing: Modern!Aemond Targaryen x female character (third person) Warnings: Sugar daddy/sugar baby dynamics. Smut. Angst. Word count: ~3.5k

Series masterlist

Chapter summary: Aemond dwells upon the past while trying to live without her.

Author's note: I don't have a tag list - please follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications. Only scabs community label fics. If you find yourself tempted to slap a label on this, please block me instead.

The flat door clicks closed behind Aemond and he lingers in the corridor for a moment. This was for the best, he was sparing her, so why does his heart feel so heavy? Every step towards his car feels as though he’s walking through quicksand.

He loads Vhagar into the boot, throwing his overnight bag onto the backseat and sits wearily behind the wheel, gripping it with enough force to turn his knuckles white. He screws his eye shut, attempting to will away the prickling sensation around the rim, alongside the lump in his throat.

I’ve done the right thing. I’ve done the right thing.

**15 YEARS PRIOR**

Aemond looks up at her from where he’s seated on the edge of the hotel bed, brows arched in pain and disbelief, as tears slip down his cheeks. “So that’s just it, you’re ending things?”

Alys purses her crimson stained lips, perfectly manicured nails of the same shade brush against his cheek as she stands over him. “Oh sweetheart,” she coos, “You had to know that our little arrangement wasn’t forever.”

His heart twinges at this, what could she possibly mean? They are made for each other, two halves of the same whole. He stares at her, confused. “But I love you…”

She laughs, green eyes crinkling with mirth and the sight and sound is a dagger to his chest.

“You don’t love me,” she says, her tone condescending, “You’re barely twenty, you don’t know what love is. You just like the idea of an older woman.”

He shakes his head, feeling himself become angry at her cold dismissal of his feelings. “Then why? Why bother with me?”

Alys sighs. “Look, we both got something we wanted out of this arrangement. You got to have a little fun, and I made sure I got the Harrenhal contract.”

Bile rises in Aemond’s throat, his eye narrowing hatefully as he stares at her, acrid warmth spreading throughout his chest.

She’d used him.

**PRESENT DAY**

Aemond’s own flat feels too big, too empty, too quiet, when he returns to it. The pitter patter of Vhagar’s claws against the hardwood floor as she potters towards her bed is the only audible sound.

He’s never stopped to consider his own living space much before, preferring functionality over comfort. He is out most of the time anyway, so what does it matter as long as things do what he needs them to do?

It’s only as he leans against the spotless granite of the kitchen counter that he is struck by how lifeless and sterile it is here. He’s grown used to the warmth and cosiness of being at her place; the smell of jasmine that wafts delicately in the air from the incense sticks that her and Mysaria always seem to be burning, being pressed against her on the tiny sofa, her feet in his lap as trashy TV plays just a little too loudly, the tiny space is filled with laughter, comfort and love. Dropped back into his own space he feels as though he’s been set adrift, empty and hollow, yet he has no one to blame but himself.

The bed is too big, he has too much room, he misses the feel of springs digging into his back as he curls himself around her on her tiny mattress. This bed doesn’t feel like home, not anymore, not since he’d laid her down upon it all those nights ago, put her legs over his shoulders and…fucked it all up by leaving without saying anything the next day, just like he fucks up everything. She’d given him a second chance and he’d squandered it.

No, he did what he needed to.

I’ve done the right thing. I’ve done the right thing.

He groans, scrubbing a hand over his face and throws the covers off, walking to the bathroom. Rifling through the medicine cabinet in search of painkillers to dull the throbbing ache in his left eye socket, his fingers close around something cool and metallic.

He plucks it out, studying it carefully. It’s a bracelet of hers, probably left there accidentally from one of the few times she’s stayed over. He turns the silver bangle over in his fingers, remembering the first time he’d seen her wear it. He’d thought to himself it looked cheap, but now as he holds it it feels like the most precious treasure in the world. It’s all he has left of her.

How had he allowed things to go this far? It was only ever supposed to be transactional but he’d allowed it to evolve, letting her occupy a space in his heart and mind that left them both vulnerable. He ended things, not wanting to cause her unnecessary pain and yet in doing so has devastated them both.

Aemond doesn’t do love or relationships. Not even his own family can stand him, so how can he expect another person to feel that way about him, or open himself up to the possibility of having those feelings for someone else? It’s a path he’s trodden before and it doesn’t end well.

**5 YEARS PRIOR**

Aemond leans in to kiss Floris, she turns her head and he catches her cheek instead.

“I’ve just put on lipgloss, Aem,” she says, her voice saccharine, “Aren’t you going to be late for work?”

“Mm. Was just about to leave, love,” He tells her, grabbing his keys.

“Forgetting something?” She says with a slight pout and tilt of her head.

“Ah, of course,” he fishes his credit card out of the inside pocket of his suit jacket and hands it over to her, smirking as the diamond of her engagement ring glitters with the movement of her fingers, “I’ll see you later. I love you.”

“You too!” She calls over her shoulder, already walking back towards the bedroom.

It’s not until Aemond is almost at his car that he realises he’s left his phone in the flat and heads back upstairs to retrieve it. As he opens the front door he can hear Floris on the phone, only able to pick up on her side of the conversation, he pauses to listen in.

“...I can only put him off for so long. I have to do it occasionally, otherwise he’d get suspicious. It’s that horrible prosthetic eye, it gives me the creeps–”

“...only a few months until the wedding, then I can get a quickie divorce and take half of everything–”

“...no, he hasn’t made me sign a pre-nup, he’s too obsessed with me for that–”

Aemond’s breath catches in his throat as a dull ache spreads its way through his chest. He slams the front door hard enough to alert Floris that he’s home and strides towards the bedroom.

**PRESENT DAY**

The next few weeks are a miserable dirge for Aemond. He buries himself in paperwork at work, in an attempt to push away thoughts of her, yet finds his mind wandering to how she might be spending the working day, whether she’s finally managed to get the museum to commission the exhibit she’s been pushing for or not. He considers dropping by the museum, just to see if he can watch her from a distance, but decides against it. It was his decision to end things, it was for the best, the least he owed her was to stay away.

Aemond sits on his couch in the evenings, the cold, hard leather unwelcoming against his back, the space too expansive as he attempts to watch the same trashy TV on his widescreen that he’d watched with her on her TV. He finds he couldn’t give less of a shit about which couples are voted off of Love Island or who scored the lowest on Come Dine With Me, for him the experience was about being snuggled up next to her on the sofa, feeling her warmth, hearing her laugh. Now she’s gone, and none of the things that accompanied that seem to matter.

Family functions are unbearable without her. He misses the way she’d smile up at him when he placed his hand at the small of her back, misses how effortlessly she converses with his family, even the members he struggles to get along with.

Without her to keep him grounded, he bickers with Aegon, is aloof with his mother and Helaena and actively goes out of his way to antagonise his nephews. He hasn’t just reverted back to old habits, he’s worse, and it’s obvious his family have begun to notice too. He elects just to stay away entirely when invitations are extended.

That is until the night of Helaena’s birthday party. His only sister would never forgive him if he didn’t show up, so grudgingly he goes to the gathering his mother is having for her at her place.

He stands out on the decking, the same decking where he’d shared his first kiss with her, the memory plays on a loop in his head, he can still taste the red wine on her lips.

The cherry red tip of his cigarette as he takes a drag provides further illumination alongside the soft glow of the lights through the windows of the house, and the moon that shines bright in the night sky.

It’s quiet, save for the muffled bass of the music coming from inside. It gets louder as the French doors slide open for a moment, quieting once more as they slide closed.

Aemond rolls his eye, blowing out a tight line of smoke, his shoulders tensing. He wants to be left alone, he had hoped that escaping to the garden would have made that perfectly clear to everyone.

“It’s just me,” Helaena says softly, coming to stand beside him.

Aemond softens, glancing down at her, his gaze drawn to the bubbles that rise to the top of the glass in the gin and tonic that she’s taking delicate sips from.

“Happy birthday, Hel,” he says, facing forward again and taking another drag.

“It’d be happier if you’d actually come inside,” She nudges him gently with her elbow.

“Trust me, you wouldn’t be,”

“What’s going on with you? You’re miserable lately.”

“I’ve always been miserable,” He throws his cigarette butt down onto the decking and crushes it under foot.

“You were less miserable when you had your girlfriend. I liked the guy that you were when you were with her,”

“She’s not my girlfriend, never was,” Aemond’s tone is clipped, he purses his lips as he feels irritation prickle at his skin.

“Why not?” Helaena taps the rings on her fingers gently against her glass.

“She deserves better than me. I’ve spared her the inevitable hurt I’d cause her,”

“Hm. You know, there’s only so many times you can use that excuse before it becomes a self fulfilling prophecy,”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“You’ve ended things because you don’t want to hurt her, but I bet doing that has hurt her, and you,”

Aemond scoffs, “I don’t do relationships, Hel,”

She huffs a quiet laugh, “No, I don’t do relationships because I’m aroace. You do do relationships, Aemond, you’ve just made crappy choices in the past and you’re allowing fear to dictate your future,”

He narrows his eye, glancing towards her again, “And how do you know so much?”

“I’m incredibly fussy about the insects I choose for pin-mounting, and those just go on my wall. I’m even more particular when it comes to people. I’ve seen how you two look at each other, don’t chuck this away,”

“Hel–”

“I mean it, Aemond. She’s your…your atlas moth! Pin mount her before somebody else does,”

“A truly horrifying metaphor, but thank you,”

“You’re welcome,” she smiles warmly, “You gonna come inside now?”

“Actually, I think I’m going to go. Do you mind?”

“Gonna go get your girl?” She asks with a grin.

“Perhaps,” he says with a bow of his head.

Helaena deposits her drink on the railing and claps her hands together excitedly. “Then of course I don’t mind, go!”

Aemond pulls out his phone as he gets into his car, seeing the Instagram notification pop up on his lockscreen.

mysaria_ww has started a live video

Allowing his curiosity to get the better of him, he clicks on the notification and startles slightly as pounding music blares from his phone’s speaker. The camera sweeps shakily over a couple of obnoxiously lurid drinks before it lands on her.

Aemond feels his breath catch in his throat, his heart seems to skip a beat at the sight of her and he holds his phone in trembling hands as he makes a note of the location sticker. A cocktail bar not far from here.

He locks his phone and is starting the car before he has time to properly think about it.

The bar is dimly lit, the music not to Aemond’s taste and far louder than he’s comfortable with. It’s the type of place that has seemingly endless happy hours and serves drinks that are mostly ice. He bristiles uncomfortably as he descends the steps, but refuses to be deterred. He needs to speak to her.

He freezes when he sees her. Her elbow is propped against the edge of the table, her chin resting on her hand, an easy smile graces her lips as she listens intently to whatever Mysaria is whispering to her.

They’ve been apart for so long that he’s forgotten just how beautiful she really is. It’s like the first night he met her all over again, when he’d gotten out of the car to greet her and she’d stolen his breath away. He hadn’t let her kiss him that night, afraid she’d just be doing it for the money. He won’t make that mistake again tonight.

He walks slowly over to her table and the way her face falls when she notices him makes it feel as though his stomach is in free fall. She looks so shocked and unhappy, she’s never not been pleased to see him. He hates this.

“Can we talk?” He raises his voice to be heard above the music as he reaches their table.

She shakes her head, climbing unsteadily from her bar stool and grabbing her bag. “Oh, I am too drunk for this…”

He watches in dismay as she staggers away, flanked by Mysaria, before deciding to follow them both outside.

“Hey, wait–” He says, reaching for her, and she whips around, eyes wide and mouth tightened in anger.

“I’ll be right here,” Mysaria says softly to her, stepping to the side and pulling up the Uber app on her phone.

“No, you wait!” She shouts at him, “I have spent weeks trying to get over you. You don’t get to make someone fall in love with you and then act like that’s nothing!”

She’s in love with him?!

He feels his chest tighten at the admission, standing there dumbfounded, he allows her to continue.

“I let you go,” She sobs, streaks of black mascara track their way down her cheeks alongside her tears, “I respected your decision, I didn’t reach out, even though I wanted to. I left you alone, so what gives you the right to ruin girls’ night?! You broke my heart and acted like you were doing me a favour, so why the fuck should I listen to anything you have to say?!”

Because I love you too.

He can’t say anything, as much as he wants to, his throat has run dry. His fingers flex uselessly by his sides, longing to reach out and wipe away the tears and make up that have run down her face.

She’s pulled away by Mysaria as an Uber pulls up to the curb and he can do nothing but watch helplessly as they drive away.

You’re losing her. Do something.

Sleep does not come for Aemond. The image of her tears plays over and over in his mind as he tosses and turns, tears from hurt that he’d caused her.

He has experienced crying in relationships before; he’d cried when Alys ended things, but he was young and stupid and thought he was in love with a woman twice his age. Floris had bawled when he’d confronted her about what he’d overheard, but they were the crocodile tears of a desperate woman caught out for being a gold digger.

Aemond has never seen the real anguish of heartbreak before, at least not on another person, and he never wants to see it again. He has to make this right. It’s not until he feels the drip from his jaw onto his collarbone that he realises that after weeks of holding them in, his own tears have begun to fall.

It is almost midday the next day when Aemond has everything he needs prepared. The big white van he parks outside of her block of flats is cumbersome to drive in comparison to his sleek, black sports car, but he hopes the inconvenience will be worth it.

Come outside.

He texts her, relieved when the bubble displays as delivered, at least she hasn’t blocked his number.

He climbs out of the van, leaning against it, heart pounding as he looks up to see the curtains of her living room window twitch.

A few moments later she’s stepping outside, a look of confusion on her face. “What’s this?”

“An apology,” Aemond says, “Letting you go was a mistake. I thought I was doing the right thing, but I fucked it up, it’s what I do, I fuck things up. But I’m sorry, and I want to be with you, whatever that looks like for you. I want to do this properly.”

“Why are you doing all of this now?” She asks, folding her arms defensively.

“Because I’ve tried to live without you, and I can’t. What we had was good, so fucking good, and I threw it away because I’m a coward. Just let me make this right, please?”

She sighs, “What’s in the van?”

He motions for her to follow him, and opens up the back, revealing a brand new mattress, still in its plastic wrap.

“A replacement, so I can stay over without feeling like someone has spent all night attempting to make balloon animals with my spine.”

“Presumptuous of you,” She says with a raise of her eyebrows.

Aemond shrugs, “I’m all in,”

She runs her hands through her hair, eyes flitting between him and the mattress. “How the fuck are we supposed to get this upstairs?”

He smirks. “There are removal people coming in an hour, they’ll take your old one away and bring this one up,”

“And what happens if I say no?”

“Well, that’s why I told them to leave it an hour, so I’d have time to cancel in case you did,”

He can see her fighting against the smile that tugs against the corners of her mouth. “I’m not letting you off that easily,”

“I know,” He says, taking a step towards her.

“So what do we do for the next hour?”

“We could give that old, lumpy thing on your bed upstairs a final send off,” he reaches for her and she rolls her eyes.

“You’re pushing it,” she whispers.

“Hmm,” he runs the tip of his nose against her cheek, “I’ve missed you,” he presses a soft kiss to her cheek, “none of it matters,” he kisses her other cheek, “not the money, not anything,” he kisses the corner of her mouth, “not without you,”

When their lips finally meet it is slow and soft, and a contented sound rumbles within Aemond’s chest. It feels like he’s taking his first breath of air in weeks.

They waste no time in helping each other out of their clothes as they hurry upstairs. He smirks to himself as he lays back against the bed, feeling the familiar springs dig into his back, he pulls her to straddle him, allowing her to set a pace she’s comfortable with.

He moans low as she sinks slowly down onto him, the tight wet heat of her enveloping him causing his balls to tighten in a way that builds steady pressure at the base of his spine.

Gazing up at her with reverence, fingers digging into the plushness of her hips, he watches transfixed as her breasts bounce softly with each undulation, committing to memory every breathy moan and gasp. She feels like home, and it has never felt better to return.

When she eventually collapses against his chest, tightening and spasming around him as she falls apart, she takes him with her and he grunts as he feels himself pulsate and spill deep inside of her.

He strokes her hair as he holds tightly, gratitude and love overwhelming him. “You forgive me?” he asks, voice thick with emotion.

“I’m working on it,” she whispers back.

“I can wait,” he reassures her, “I’m all in.”

608 notes · View notes

dilemmaontwolegs · 9 months

Note

Hey! Love your fics! Have just finished The Taste of Temptation 🥵 a small idea popped in my head where Daniel is away and his Kitty is spending time with other drivers on a yacht. The aussie sees the pics, his blood starts to boil but then he sees the pics where she's putting on his DR3 or Enchante merch on

Temptation Snapshot || DR3 {1}

A/N: there will be a splattering of little snapshots of moments between Danny and his kitten from The Taste of Temptation universe.

F1 Masterlist Story: One || Two || Three || Four || Five Snapshots One || Two || Three || Four || Five

“Are you sure you know how to drive this thing?”

Lando looked offended at the question and purposefully hit the waves in the wake of Charles' boat, launching the JetSki into the air. Your arms tightened around his waist as you lifted from the seat and your heart rose in your throat at the height of the jump. It was instant karma that he winced at the deafening scream of terror you made but it wasn’t enough to drown out the men laughing at your expense on the yacht.

“Where are you going?” Lando asked with a laugh as you abandoned him and jumped into the sea.

“To change my underwear, you dingbat,” you joked as you swam towards the Monza, making Lando nearly tip over as he tried to turn around while doubled over laughing.

When you reached the Monza, Charles offered his hand to help you up since Pierre was too busy cackling to himself. “Did that use up one of your nine lives, kitten?”

Charles arched an eyebrow in disbelief as he looked at his friend who had been taking pictures all day just to annoy Daniel. “Mate, do you have a death wish?”

“He must have, especially if he posted any of those photos.” You reached into your bag and grabbed the powder-blue oversized Enchantée sweatshirt you had stolen from Daniel. Pulling it over your body was the closest you could get to one of his hugs when he was busy with work and when you took a seat there was enough room to tuck your knees up inside it too.

“They are very good pictures,” he defended himself as he took another couple of Lando pulling up alongside the boat, Charles at the helm and you watching the sun reflect on the shimmering surface. “I could be a photographer, I am an artist.”

You looked at Charles and rolled your eyes. “He took one decent photo of Kika, who is the most photogenic person on the planet, and now he thinks he’s Kym Illman.”

“I’ve taken more, but she would kill me if I showed them off,” Pierre admitted with a smirk.

“Oh my god, mate,” Charles groaned a laugh. “That is not smart. Think, if you get hacked, then what?”

You gave Charles a little clap at the point he made but Pierre just laughed it off without a care. “You worry too much.”

Red Bull Training Facility

Sweat drenched the singlet Daniel wore but he pushed himself to finish the last rep knowing a break was coming as soon as he was done. The routine physical fitness test was never fun but the fact it was taking him away from time with you left him in a sour mood. He was doing his best and results were better than ever because he knew the sooner he finished then the quicker he could head home to Monaco where you were waiting.

“Alright, good work. Take a breather, get a drink, and be back here in 10.”

Daniel was quick to grab his phone with his bottle of water and took a seat on the Swiss ball. His lips tugged up into a smile when he saw the messages from you, wishing him well and how much you missed him. He replied to them first, promising everything he would do to show you just how much he missed you too.

Seeing a tonne of notifications on Instagram, he opened the app next and his jaw clenched at what he found. All through his dashboard were images of you wearing next to nothing with the two-piece swimsuit he gave to you. He was surprised the sweat on his body didn’t turn to steam the way his blood boiled.

The whole day had been caught in a series of photos Pierre had posted. There was one of you standing at the bow of the Monza as she pulled out of the marina, you diving off the back and swimming to Lando who had followed on Max’s JetSki, you sitting behind the British driver with your arms around his waist. Every swipe to the next image left him feeling hollow and empty as he watched his kitten’s smile grow with each one.

Until it was gone.

Daniel cursed as he found a picture with terror clear on your face. Lando had launched the JetSki over a wave and you had held onto him for dear life. That was the last photo on the vessel and he sighed with relief when the next photo erased every chaotic thought he had had. You were snuggled into his sweatshirt and watching the sun like you did at home. Daniel would often find you in a similar state most mornings as you sat on the balcony overlooking the sea, a hot tea in hand and his clothes on your body.

Daddy Ric: Stealing more of my clothes, kitten?

Kitten: They look better on me.

Daddy Ric: They’d look even better on the bedroom floor.

Kitten: Then hurry up and come home.

“Break time is over, this isn’t summer camp.”

Daddy Ric: Soon, kitten. I’ll see you tonight.

Click here for another snapshot.

#the taste of temptation #daniel ricciardo fanfic #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo x y/n #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #formula one imagine #formula 1 fanfic #formula one fanfiction

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smooth-perceval · 10 months

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“My love, my life.”

“I’m just a guy who drinks tea.”

Max Verstappen x Fem!Reader

PART TWO

Max Corner

Summary: [Max and reader crossed the line in their 3 year friendship, resulting in 2 positive pregnancy test. And 1 baby on the way.]

Reader finally forgives Lando for being a bad friend, Max finally decided what he wants- if only the reader wants that.

Warnings: 18+ little bit of idk pre-smut or just some ‘steamy scenes’, angst, pregnancy, swearing, some heavy flirting, Google translate?, no proof read.

Key: Y/N (your name), Y/L/N (your last name)

Word count: 3,783

A/N: I honestly just wanna thank use for the love on each of my post, it means so much 🖤 I’m not the greatest writer in the world, hell I even make myself cringe at things I write… and how I write them but the love I’ve received is just so lovely 🥹 Thank you 🖤 again movie quotes I think- 🥲

**Two weeks 3 days later**

The two boys stuck to what I said, they kept no contact with me… It hurt, hurt like hell that they really didn’t keep in touch, I didn’t expect them to really leave me solo- but here we are.

Slowly the whole situation became more real, I have my first private scan in 4 days- and I did feel joyous. It’s not the greatest situation, but I’m having a baby.

Truthfully the thought always brings a smile to my face, wether I’ve got Max and Lando or not. I’ve always got this baby. And that’s more exciting than anything.

The shock and tears stopped the minute I shut the door on them two boys. I knew I had to be stronger than this for my baby. And I was adamant on not letting some stupid boys bring me down in the process, I was going to do this. And I was going to be perfect, all alone.

My parents are both thrilled for me, not the entire situation… but happy for the news, which gave me the motivation I needed. I had my two parents and this little baby, I had more than enough to do this, okay my parents live back in England… but it’ll be fine.

I’ll be honest… this is my mind 24/7, reassuring myself I can do this- with or without Max’s assistance. It was a painful torture… especially when the devil on my shoulder was whispering anything but hope in my ear, telling me everyday this is going to be the struggle of a lifetime without Max… This would last for hours before the perfect little angel would shut him up, and reassure my mind that I was a mother now, and all mothers are strong, and that everything was going to be okay.

I was sitting down eating my dinner, when my phone rang out, making me jump slightly. A contact I wasn’t expecting flashing on the screen, followed by a message I wasn’t sure I’d receive.

“Landiniho 🏎️”

Please read this.

I’m sorry I haven’t been in contact, I thought it’s best to leave you be- as I wasn’t the greatest friend. What your doing is incredible- and if anything after the way Max reacted, I should’ve realised then you needed a friend than some idiot screaming because he wasn’t told a secret- I’m sorry from the bottom of my heart, I don’t want our friendship to feel like nothing to you, because it means the whole world to me… Please forgive me.

P.S: don’t give my uncle rights to Carlos please.

P.P.S: I’m so proud of you.

Love Lan x

Could I help the smile that broke out on my face? No, it’s Lando. Was I still mad at him… again no. He was just reacting in a way any friend would if their pal didn’t tell a secret. It hurt how he reacted sure… but he still my friend.

Typing a message back I sighed clicking onto Max’s contact… still reading the last message he sent

“Maxiiii 🦁”

“Hope your feeling better Schat. Me and the idiot will be round after quali x ” (Darling)

My phone sounded again multiple times, I clicked on Lando’s notification, laughing to myself at the spam messages.

“Landiniho 🏎️”

Your how far?!

Already-

I haven’t been there…

I’m sorry, are you getting an early scan?

I’d love to come?!

I’m trying to make it up to you for being a shitty friend x

Messaging him back I confirmed the scan date, time and location. Was he forgiven easily, yes. So easily, but it gave me some sense of relief knowing he cares.

The scan was a day before he had to fly out to Canada, but he was adamant on being there, meaning he had to fly from Barcelona, back to Monaco then to Canada. Which only made me feel guilty at the insane amount of effort. I’m glad I got Lando back, truthfully the sun didn’t shine without him.

The days had passed, nothing major happening, Max still hadn’t reached out, and as the days went on I was pulling myself further away from him, not wanting any association with him.

I was getting ready for my scan and my phone signalled, Lando reminding me of the appointment, he had kept in touch a lot… he really was apologetic, and I’m so glad he reached out cause it sure did dull the devil on my shoulder. He wasn’t so loud anymore…

Lando messaged last night when he arrived back in Monaco telling me he had arrived and that he would see me in the morning. I couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief, Max or no Max I had someone. I missed Max. Missed him a ton… even if whatever we did was a ‘mistake’ just having him as a best friend, someone I could talk to- I missed just him. It’s a different vibe with Max,

With Max it was late nights curled on the sofa, gossiping about paddock life, a glass of wine in hand and soft touches that we both swore was innocent, we just had another level of connection- someone who understood myself on a different level.

Lando on the other hand? It was hectic- spur of the moment kind of things, he would call at random times of the day telling me we are going somewhere and expect me to be ready- it was always an adventure! It was always a laugh and joke between two friends.

Two different vibes, with two different outcomes- my brain doesn’t function without Lando’s random calls, however my heart aches without Max’s teasing smiles and lingering touch… I was really in deep.

I was waiting around in the parking lot, legs jittering around nervously trying to spot Lando’s car anywhere, waiting only for a few more minutes before heading inside and checking myself in. I hadn’t heard from him for a few hours and he hadn’t respond to any messages… which only led me thinking he had to go somewhere else- which is fine, his a busy guy…

There was still no sign of him- and I was now getting called into the office, sighing with defeat I got up shuffling in. That little flicker of hope burning out- all I needed was a friend today…

Me and the nurse was going through a few documents, and details to cover about the pregnancy, before she asked me to go behind the curtain and remove my bottoms and underwear, placing a sheet over myself, then requesting for me lay down on the bed while she got her equipment ready. The door rattled slightly from a soft knock, causing us both to look up.

“Sorry- two minutes.” The nurse smiled apologetically before getting up and opening the door slightly and stepping outside.

Within a few seconds the door was opened again by the nurse and following behind was him.

Max- he had a cap on and was holding onto some sunglasses I guess he is calling that his “disguise” some dark blue jeans and a casual white t-shirt.

Mouth hung open I stared at him, sitting up on the bed. Ensuring the sheet was still covering myself. “What are you doing here?”

“Lando said you had an scan…”

“I haven’t heard from you in weeks.” I angrily whispered, I felt a rage in me all of a sudden to bite this man’s head of. Yet grab him and hold him tight and thank him for being here.

With his head hung low he stepped closer, giving the nurse a small smile. “Maybe we discuss all of that stuff after this?…” glancing back and fourth between me and the nurse.

And once again in defeat I sunk back onto the bed turning my head away from him. The little flicker of light burned in my chest, and I couldn’t help the small smile… it’s a good thing I had my head turned so he couldn’t see what he was doing to me.

Giving me hope again.

“Where’s Lando?” Mumbling I watched as the nurse started preparing everything.

“I- I asked him if he could wait out there.”

Nodding my head in acknowledgement the nurse then looked up smiling.

“Are you ready? It may feel a little cold- but it shouldn’t cause any discomfort, if it does just let me know straight away.”

Nodding my head again I smiled a little glancing over at the screen, trying to find any form of distraction.

Taking a sharp in- breath at the coldness of the gel, the nurse laughed a little apologising once again. She was right there was no discomfort, the room was silent as we was all watching the screen waiting for any sign of the baby.

“Anddd… there is your baby.” Pointing up at the screen, the picture showing what looked to be a small bean.

Resting my head back onto the pillow in a happy daze, I caught a glance over at Max, who was leaning over slightly watching the screen. As if it was out of instinct his hand clasped onto mine in a tight grip, like he needed reassurance for himself. Some form of clarity.

Squeezing his hand back, he broke his gaze looking straight at me, eyes shining with threatening tears, and as quick as he looked at me, he looked back at the screen.

“I’ll just go get the scan printed for you both-” The nurse disposed of the equipment before excusing herself, I untangled my hand from Max’s and held the sheet heading back behind the curtain getting dressed, nervously I shuffled back out from behind the curtain Max now sitting down hands covering his mouth, as if he is understanding the situation properly now.

“We really are having a baby…” his voice was barely audible above a whisper. Humming with a small smile more for myself. I finally got to see my baby- it seems so real now…

Tilting his head up He reached over taking my hand pulling me closer, nearly tumbling over my own feet.

“I’m so sorry.” He mumbled wrapping his arms around my waist head flushed against my stomach.

“It’s okay-”I whisper back, rubbing the top off his back before pulling away. My hands moved to his face wiping his spilled tears.

“I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions I was just terrified-” sighing he looked down at the floor, breathing in and out slowly.

“You wasn’t the only one- I was scared to even tell you.. I didn’t exactly tell you in the greatest way…”

“Well it wasn’t my best reaction, it’s been eating me alive for these past few weeks how bad I acted…”

Shrugging I look away, taking a seat in the doctors chair next to him “Water under the bridge… just glad you and Lando are both back. Even for a day.” Nudging his shoulder he smiled a little, taking my hand once again.

“You got me for a lifetime now.” Laughing a little I hummed rolling my eyes. “Lucky me.”

Both thanking the nurse, and leaving her office Max’s hand was gently placed at the bottom of my back, like a guidance, and in his other hand he was holding the scan photo’s looking at them with a smile on his face.

The wind was nearly took out of me, when Lando practically jumped onto me hugging me tight.

“I’ve missed you.” Letting out a huff, with a little laughter I hugged him back tight. “I missed you too.” He quickly pulled away taking the scan photos from Max walking ahead of us both to the exit.

“Why does it look like rice?” Both shaking our heads we followed behind.

“Because it’s early stages Lan.” Laughing I had a little run catching up with him. “About a month and the baby will start developing little arms and legs!” Linking my arms with his, Max trailing next to us both. I reached my other arm around Max’s linking him as well, pulling both of them closer.

Max followed me back to my place, Lando was complaining that he had to go get some more sleep before his flight in the morning. Leaving us both in the car park and the screeching sound of his tires as he pulled away.

“Did you want tea or anything…?” I poked my head out the kitchen looking over at Max.

“I don’t like tea…”

“What kind of person doesn’t like tea?” I smiled teasingly at him. Shaking my head I trailed back into the kitchen. He laughed lightly following me into the kitchen standing in the doorway.

“A person called Max” he hummed crossing his arms, I spare him a glance, a small smile playing on my lips. In silence I made a tea and offered Max a bottled water, placing his across the kitchen island, me sitting down on the opposite side.

“I’m sorry again, for everything I said.”

“I said don’t worry-”

“No- it wasn’t fair on me to shift blame… if anything it was my fault we was in that situation.” Moving his drink aside, he leaned down on the counter hands clasped together.

Smiling a little, cheeks slightly red at the faint memory. “If I remember it was both of ours…”

“No.” Moving around the counter, I turned on the stool, him now standing in front of me, lost in his own thoughts.

“I knew what I wanted as soon as I crossed that finish line.” Max stared down at me, his mind looked like it was turning, like he was trying to understand himself.

“The night ended with just a slice of what I was thinking about when I got out that car and see you standing there, smiling at me. With that smile of yours… that pretty smile...” he was mumbling words, it was as if he was in a trance, his hand moving up to my face letting his thumb swipe my bottom lip slightly before tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

I was frozen in place- scared to act on my thoughts… I didn’t want the same feeling I’ve had these past three weeks of no Max, I’d rather hold back.

“So this was all planned…?”

“Not exactly planned… I was planning on telling you the truth…” mumbling he looked down at my hands that were fiddling around on my lap. “It was just me telling you without words-” once again my face burned red at the thought of what we got up to 3 weeks ago.

“You can’t tell me you don’t feel the same?” Looking back up at me he quirked a brow- like he was taunting me for words.

“Max-”

“Ah-” Cutting me off, he stepped between my legs caging me against the island arms either side as he held onto the counter, his head had ducked slightly, trying to level with me.

“Do you, or do you not?” Shaking my head quickly, not trusting my voice, I already knew my body had given every motion for him to continue, from the way I was biting my lip, to even leaning in so our chest are nearly touching.

Humming to himself in disapproval, his hand grazed over my hip, dancing up my stomach and resting on the centre of my chest, “Your heart says different…” his eyes followed his hands as they slowly roamed my body. My body was reacting to every little touch. Telling him to continue even if I said anything different.

His fingers brushed above my heart again as he tapped his finger to the racing heart beat. “You don’t feel the same?” He didn’t even need an answer from me to know how I was feeling- I’m sure even my eyes speak for themselves.

“Max…” whispering I looked down at his hand removing the one from my chest. “I invited you for tea…” subconsciously my tongue darted out licking my bottom lip as I looked back up at him.

Raising his eyebrows a small smile playing on his lips, I tugged at his other hand removing it from my hip,clearing my throat.

“And you, don’t can’t do relationships.”

As quickly as I removed him he was back on me- like a lion stalking it prey. His lips trying to kiss every inch of my face, and as much as I was trying to hold back- I failed… my hands gripped onto his bicep and shoulder, head slowly falling back as his lips trailed down my neck whispering sweet nothings.

“You’ve stated what you think I can’t do and not what you want.”

“I don’t want something that you can’t do.” He placed a soft kiss behind my ear, making me only bite my bottom lip- trying not to give myself away any more than I have…

“Maybe I can.”

“I don’t want if, buts and maybes. I want absolutes.” Gulping, closing my eyes. I let out a shaky breath, my hands slowly moving to his chest, before I pushed him back gently.

We was both now staring at each other, breathing heavily, like it was our last.

Covering my face with my hands I stood up, my fingers combed through my hair as I left the kitchen wandering to the living room, my hands finally resting in my hips I turned to Max, who as always was following behind me.

It was awkward… the energy was still basking on lust- and me and Max just didn’t know how to use our words.

“I should go…” clearing his throat, scratching the back of his head he looked down and the floor.

“Maybe it’s for the best…” I whispered it, only because it was a lie. The silence overcoming us again.

“Right-” he moved his hands to be clasped together in front of his trousers- hiding anything to show for the little break in the kitchen. Shuffling his feet slowly he moved down the hallway to the door, quickly pulling his shoes back on.

“Oh… did you want to take one of the scan photos… you don’t have to?” Tilting my head slightly, I could barely hear myself let alone his response over my pounding heart.

I only knew what he said by the nod of his head that followed, I quickly ran to my bag in the lounge grabbing one of the scans and bringing it back to him holding it out.

Smiling a little he pinched the other corner of the photo- both scared once again to go near each other. Max was looking back down at the scan photo as he took it from me, the smile on his face only wider.

“That’s our bab-”

I couldn’t tell you what came over me- I just needed to kiss him- even if it was a last- his lips had kissed everywhere on my face today- but my lips, and they craved the sensation so terribly.

I practically jumped onto him arms around his neck- and it’s now I thank heavens for his quick reaction, I probably would’ve slid back down him if he hadn’t reacted. The scan photo getting caught between our colliding chest, both his arms were fasted tightly around my waist holding myself in the air-

Our lips felt as if they’re moulding together, both hungry, desperate, lustful.

I felt his hands slide from my waist down to the backs of my thighs tugging them up around him, before he moved back along the hall to the lounge. Both giving feather kisses, my hands tugging the end of his hair softly. He couched slightly placing me on the arm of the sofa before pulling himself back slowly.

The picture now fell from between us and we both looked down at it before he picked it back up placing it on the coffee table.

No words needed to be said, his hands were supporting me as he placed soft kisses back on my lips, and with every kiss we slowly fell back onto the sofa, Max climbing further up, one knee between my legs the other practically hanging off the sofa holding him up slightly.

And in silent agreement we both started undressing each other, as if it was the first time again. Both awed by the sight of one another.

As always, Max looked heavenly, his hair was disheveled from my fingers running through, his eyes were a bright blue filled with lust and adoration, the apples of his cheeks were flushed red… his toned body was warm to the touch. He always is perfect.

Moving closer his soft, wet kisses were making their way down my exposed chest, feeling him smiling against my skin after every kiss he placed. Mumbling things like-

“So perfect…”

“My pretty girl.”

“My schat” (darling)

I felt as if I was floating, if this is what heaven feels like I want it everyday.

I said once before- heaven wouldn’t accept two sinners. And there’s no way I could stop from sinning now- if it meant locking me up in the depths of hell I would happily dance myself down to the gates only if I can have Max devouring every inch of my body like he was.

He worshipped my body, and took me on highs I don’t even remember either of us reaching the last time we ended up in such positions.

When all was said and done, our bodies heaved with exhaustion, Max still pulled back on his underwear and hauled himself upstairs to the bathroom getting wet towels to clean us both up with. He even helped me get my underwear and his T-shirt on… he took such gentle care with me, it was difficult not to love him.

It took some time before our breathing levelled out, Max turned his head bringing his lips to kiss my forehead. A small smile tugged at my face, my head now leaning against his shoulder.

“Please stay the night…” he moved his hand around cupping my cheek, placing more kisses to the top of my head.

“Don’t have to ask twice.” My smile widened and I responded with a hum.

“I’m going to make a cup of tea, did you want a cold drink?…” slowly I pushed myself of the sofa stretching turning to look at him.

His hands slowly moving up each sides of my legs, as he looked up at me.

“I’ve got more water?”

“Actually I’ll have tea.” I raised my eyebrows at him, brushing some hair back.

“Are you trying to impress me?”

“Of course not, I’m just a guy who drinks tea.” Laughing a little I push his head back gently leaving him in the lounge.

We have so got this Verstappen.

A/N: idk what it is but I just had terrible writers block- and as you can tell it was sort of forced finished, so hopefully Part 3 I will have a bit more inspo flowing 🥲 But hope you enjoyed anyways 🖤 Part 3 hopefully end of the week the latest I’ll update if not 🖤

Masterlist

#f1 imagine #max verstappen imagine #formula one imagine #imagine #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x y/n #formula one x reader

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hazelsmirrorball · 5 months

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Rockstar Girlfriend VI. | Hazel Callahan

Rockstar! Hazel Callahan x Popstar! Reader

Summary: Hazel Callahan and Y/n L/n have to be in a pr relationship, but both of them can stand each other.

Warnings: Enemies to lovers! Enemies to lovers! Enemies to lovers! Angst, Fight (not physical) Not proof read. Sorry for any mistakes, English isn't my main language.

a/n: I’m back after a while!! Sorry for being MIA. I don't know how to feel about this but I'm really thankful for all the support. Lots of new things coming soon. love you guys.

part one. part two. part three. part four. part five.

The tour was canceled.

Everything Y/n had worked for went down the drain. Not only had she lost the tour she risked everything for, but she had lost her bandmates' trust. They were losing followers by the minute and receiving hate left and right. All that success she had gained because of Hazel was almost gone.

The moment everyone found out about Hazel's outburst, the show was canceled with a blink of an eye. They could hear the cries and screams of fans outside. Y/n couldn’t bear to listen, she felt bad, guilty even. Management said that her band couldn’t perform because they were only the openers, so karma was biting her ass quickly.

But after one show became two and then two became five, management canceled the whole tour, every single date. They claimed that they couldn’t do anything without Hazel, their star. Y/n tried to be positive that maybe Hazel was joking around and that she was going to come back but when management canceled the tour, her feet finally hit the floor. The tour was over before it even started. The hop of the wave of success both bands were having was cut short. The most anticipated tour of the year was canceled due to mental health issues from one of the band members. That was what got posted on the band's page and every news article.

But Hazel made it her job for people to know that, that wasn’t the case. If the tour was canceled she wanted people to know the real reason, no more tricks, no more lies and no more fake love. Y/n felt her heart stop when her phone started to blow up with notifications and her eyes landed on a video Hazel had posted on instagram after being MIA for two weeks.

That was when “Mean” was born.

“Hi guys! I know I’ve been gone for a while and all of a sudden the tour got canceled. But I’m here to tell you guys that we are currently working to get your back running again. This time we decided it was best to get new openers. Anyways, on my little break I decided to write this song I really hope you guys enjoy!” Hazel said to the camera starting to strum her guitar. Y/n felt her heart drop every second that passed by. If she was already losing everything with a blink of an eye it wouldn’t surprise Y/n if what was left of her career ended just because of that song.

hazel.callahan via instagram

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hazel.callahan rehearsals for tour are the shit! I missed this a lot, can't wait for tour to start <3

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hazelsbottoms she's backkkkkkkk

user101 mother is back, hope tour doesn't get cancelled this time.

pjandhazeparis sorry to disappoint but I'll be a groupie for life

bottomsupdates why is y/n lurking in the likes? hasn't she done enough

| ynloveshazel please leave y/n alone

| bottomsupdates she's the one lurking her comments

Hazel had uploaded an acoustic version of a song she had written through her break in an attempt for people to understand what she was going through. It was something new, different from the songs she was used to writing for herself and other people. The song quickly took the world by storm gaining everyone’s attention. Fans had caught up quickly with who the song was written for, making it their job to make Y/n’s life a living hell. Her band's account was barely existent by the minute and management was going insane.

Y/n couldn’t let things slide. She had three options, let her pr team do everything for her, clap back and deny the allegations, or attempt to do a song just like Hazel did. The thing was, Y/n was already used to Hazel’s constant help writing songs and honestly she kinda missed spending midnights with her writing songs. She missed how Hazel would slowly touch her skin in an attempt to get her attention or how she got lost in her blue eyes while she tried to explain the chorus of the song. Y/n missed Hazel. She hated herself for running things with her. Things were finally different, this time Y/n didn’t hate Hazel, Hazel just hated Y/n.

She was going to make things right, possibly ending her career. But it was worth it. If Hazel heard the song, she could lose everything and she wouldn’t care.

Y/n propped her camera hitting record while sitting in front of it, letting out a sigh. She slowly strummed the guitar she barely knew how to play but all she could think of was all the times Hazel had attempted to teach her how to play it.

“This song is for someone special in my life that I treated so badly. I know I fucked up and I wished I could go back to december, they day I met you and start all over”

y/n's instagram

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y/nnn but if we loved again, I swear I’d love you right

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Y/nnn let out a sigh as she looked at her phone flooding with notifications. At least if she was gone for social media, she was certain Hazel had heard the song. Maybe she could get another chance or another life where they could get together with no mistakes. Y/n’s thoughts got interrupted by a harsh knock on her door. She quickly walked towards it, ready to face her neighbor. But she felt her heart drop when she noticed the familiar blue eyes she had fallen in love with. Y/n’s eyes wandered all over her trying to tell if she was real or an act of her imagination due to the lack of sleep. But as the words slipped out of her mouth she knew it was all reality.

“My guitar.” Hazel replied, playing with her feet. Y/n furrowed her eyebrows and looked at her confused.

“What do you mean, my guitar? How do you know where I live?” Y/n responded leaning against the doorframe trying to get a better look at Hazel.

“My guitar. You have my lucky guitar, I saw it in the video you posted. Now, can you please give it back”

“No.”

“What do you mean no? It’s mine, L/n.”

“You don’t speak to me, drop a diss track on my name and expect me to give you back you guitar” Y/n exclaimed while looking at Hazel with a surprised look on her face.

“Are you insane? You do know that all of this is not my fault, right? I was willing to do anything for you but you preferred the fame over me. You fucked up your own career and you fucked up with me. Yet, I came here, to your apartment and you still want to act like the victim instead of saying your sorry. You know what stays with the stupid guitar. I don’t want it anyway. You want to play a game that I’m really tired of playing. I really don't understand why are you like this.” Hazel exclaimed loudly pulling on her hairs.

"I like you Hazel and I'm like this because I know I screwed up the only good thing in my life" Y/n said loudly leaving Hazel with her mouth wide open not knowing what say.

At least he got the chance he desperately needed.

thank you for reading

previous part.

#hazel bottoms #hazel callahan reader insert #hazel x reader #hazel callahan #hazel callahan x reader #kit tanthalos #kit tanthalos x reader #ruby cruz x reader #ruby cruz #hazel callahan bottoms #bottoms movie

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thebellearchives · 9 months

Note

Belle my BELOVED!!

If I may graciously request fluff prompt number 12 for our husband inumaki 🖤 maybe a friends to lovers situation bc I’m a whore for tropes (or quite literally any direction it inspires you to go- bc all your jjk writing it chefs kisses 🤌🏻)

Forehead kitheth for u bestie muah okaybye

𝐌𝐎𝐕𝐈𝐄 𝐒𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄

~ inumaki toge ; jujutsu kaisen

✧˚ · . S Y N O P S I S : this is it: the romantic movie night you once daydreamed about, so is it gonna go down as it did in your head days ago?

‧₊˚ c o n t e n t s : gn!reader, fluff, sequel to the romance alley, friends to lovers, onigiri words are in japanese

‧₊˚ a / n : girl you’re in for a ride because this is the longest request i’ve written for now, like can you blame me? IT’S INUMAKI, of course I went overboard what were we expecting, i’m down bad for him ): Anyways, I know you loved romance alley so here you go, a second part 🫶🏻

i also got requests for this prompt with sukuna and gojo, so i’m gonna link those here for whenever i post them

Toge ver. || Sukuna ver. || Gojo ver.

prompt list

So there you two were. Just like you had imagined: sitting in front of your TV, lights off and a fluffy blanket covering you both. In the screen the lead protagonists were laying in bed in front of each other, trying to hold hands despite the girl being just a ghost. By then your eyes would’ve been tearing up like they always did whenever you watched this movie, but this time wasn’t like the others.

Ever since you and your friends had gotten back from the shop two days ago you and Toge had been in this situation where you’d glance at each other constantly and yet tried to play it cool in front of the others. Your touches would linger, the smiles were usually accompanied by a small sigh. But then you’d both quickly pretend everything was normal again. Your friends had probably caught up with the fact that something was going on anyways, but since no one had said a word you both didn’t either.

And now you were watching your favourite movie with him. In your couch, alone. So close you could reach for his hand like you had wanted to before that kiss at the shop.

And your eyes would wander from the bright screen of your TV to those soft, shiny lips and the way he’d use one of his fangs to nibble on the straw of his drink.

And your face would flush wishing he was nibbling on your lip instead.

Fuck, you looked away once again.

Your eyes felt like they were on fire by now, staring at the screen so hard that you could’ve damaged it permanently if they were daggers. But after a minute or two you looked at him again, this time staring at his eyes. Long, white lashes that framed his beautiful violet irises. He blinked once, twice, line of sight never moving away from the screen.

With a smile you went back to the movie. The protagonist was rushing through the streets in an ambulance, coming up with the most insane plan to get his lover back. Your favourite part was coming up soon, you glanced towards Toge once more just to find him typing away in his phone.

“Toge!” you frowned, then reached for a pillow to hit him in the head with it “what are you doing?!”

He giggled, shrinking in his own space in reaction to the hit.

“Tuna” he shook his phone in his hand and staring back at you as if the answer wasn’t obvious enough: texting.

“Who are you even texting?!”

Toge tapped the screen. Suddenly your phone ringed.

“You were texting me?” your eyes widened and your face turned red in embarrassment “… sorry”

Toge’s little snickers reached your ears as your hands searched across the blanket. While trying to find your phone the sound of the text notifications ringed two more times.

“I thought we were watching the movie, why are you staring at me so much?”

“ 'wHo aRe yOu tExTiNg ?! '

why do you wanna know? are you jealous (:? ”

“You idiot” you hit him with the pillow once again and he laughed out loudly this time “of course I’m not jealous, why would I be jealous?! don’t be ridiculous!”

“Shake, shake!” he fought off your pillow attacks with his arms.

“I just wanted to make sure you were paying attention to the movie!”

“Tch” he rolled his eyes and moved close to you “tuna mayo?”

The sorcerer pointed to you, then to your eyes and then at himself, raising an eyebrow.

“I wasn’t staring at you like that, i just wanted to see your reactions to the movie, obviously”

Toge snorted, incredulously.

“I’m telling the truth!” you tried to push him away but he caught your hand in his, bringing you even closer.

“Okaka” he shook his head.

He placed his index on your forehead, then on your lips, and then placed it over his own lips.

“You think I want to kiss you?” immediately a complicit smile brightened his face, he nodded and chuckled at how quickly you picked up what he meant “you’re becoming insufferable ever since you kissed me, you know that? where is all this confidence coming from?”

Toge rolled his eyes and then pointed at you once again.

“Duh”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that.

“Me? Oh I see, the moment I start sneaking glances at you throughout a movie you get all smug”

Chuckling, he ended up resting his head on your shoulder, his frame shaking from his laughter.

“Fine. Yes, I’ve been thinking about it the whole time” you whispered, smiling, he held your other hand too.

“Mhmm” he knew. He totally knew.

So he raised his head and placed a kiss on your cheek. Then underneath your jaw. Then on the corner of your lips.

“Toge!” giggling, you tried to pull back, but he squeezed your hands and made sure to keep you in place.

Until he finally kissed your lips, tilting his head slightly and pulling you close until your body was over his and his back was leaned backwards. His arms slithered their way around your waist and you clung from his shoulders, kissing him back.

None of you noticed, but in your TV screen the two protagonists shared a sweet kiss too.

#; fluffy belle #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen 2 #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #inumaki toge #toge inumaki #jjk inumaki #jjk toge #inumaki x you #inumaki x reader #inumaki x y/n #toge inumaki x reader #inumaki imagines #gn!reader

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bambheez · 1 year

Text

tonight is for the two of us (l.hs)

SUMMARY: two lonely people who find comfort in each other’s presence for one night. PAIRING: heeseung x reader GENRE: angst, smut WARNINGS: mentions of character death, grief, depression, insomnia, child and domestic abuse, alcoholism, profanity, light smut WORD COUNT: 5.8k A/N: the way this entire thing screams verbosity but that’s just my style so pls forgive me lol… obviously this is different from what I’ve posted so far in that there’s actual plot and it’s somewhat dark (so please read the long ass list of warnings before you proceed). you can also listen to the PLAYLIST for this story (I am in love with all of these songs)! as always, reblogs/comments/feedback are especially appreciated! :)

Your clammy hands were gripping the steering wheel to the point where your dashboard lights illuminated the whites of your knuckles. As you made your way up the windy roads to the lookout point, void of any streetlamps and relying on your high beams on blast, you were silently thankful for the lack of cars trailing behind you or driving toward you in the opposite direction.

Had you done your research beforehand instead of simply plugging the address into your phone, perhaps you wouldn’t have embarked on this hour-long journey to go stargazing with your colleagues. You suggested carpooling to no avail, having to face your absurd fear of driving not only at night but also on sketchy, unfamiliar roads.

A slight crane of your neck to the right brought you a view of the city’s skyline in the distance, a hazy glow amidst a sea of black, and you wished you could teleport back to the comfort of the bright, bustling city. The mere thought of having to drive back down this same path later had you letting out a deep groan.

A sudden interjection of your phone’s navigation app announcing that you were arriving at your destination in 100 feet caused you to whip your head back in focus, scanning the parking lot as you approached the top of the mountain.

Your car was the only one in the vicinity, save for a camper van with none of its lights on, looking particularly worn-down and deserted. You parked in a random empty spot, unplugging your phone from its charging port before stepping out into the brisk air. Spotting a bench near the lookout point, you took long strides up across the parking lot and up the hill, plopping down to sit and fishing your phone out of your pocket to check your notifications.

You were surprised to find an empty home screen, expecting a “sorry, we’ll be a few minutes late” in your group chat seeing as it was over ten minutes past the time you were meant to arrive. You dialed the number of the coworker who invited you and you heard her voice come onto the line after three long rings.

“Hey! What’s up?” she was nearly screaming over sounds of at least a dozen other people talking.

“What’s your ETA?” you were muttering, already having a bad feeling of what she was about to say.

“H-huh? Oh, it’s supposed to rain tonight, so we canceled! Sorry, I thought we told y–” you were tearing the phone away from the side of your face and hanging up before she could finish her sentence.

A miserable chuckle escaped your mouth as you took note of the thick clouds hanging over the sky and brought your feet up on the bench, hugging your knees and resting your back against the wood. You weren’t sure why you expected anything else.

You thought perhaps moving across the country to a big city would put an end to the dread of a thousand tomorrows, none of them promising any semblance of change, but the truth was you never felt more alone than when you were standing in the midst of a busy crowd surrounded by towering skyscrapers and blinding lights—a single drop in the ocean.

There was no way to describe it other than a vice on your heart, squeezing with just enough pressure to be a constant, dull ache. A black hole that threatened to swallow every part of you until all that was left was a human shaped shell, too numb to feel the pain anymore.

There were nights you unwillingly let it control you, and all you could do in those long hours was find an enclosed place to shake until the tears subsided. The vast, open darkness in front of you made you wonder just how many people were out there feeling the same way you did.

Some old acquaintances had promised to stay in touch, yet what you heard from them was comparable to radio silence, their smiles and efforts merely pixelated and small yellow faces that stopped coming whenever your world fell apart—which was often.

Trudging to get past each day made you realize just how much of your world had revolved around one person—one last connection with a life that used to be. You couldn’t tell her when your local tea shop came out with her favorite lychee drink, when you listened to a song that reminded you of her, how you saw someone on the subway reading a book she had recommended you, or how you overheard a couple arguing over the proper way to load a dishwasher, the very thing you had repeatedly bickered about as college roommates.

And now that she was no longer in this life, you were constantly questioning your purpose, even occasionally wondering if you were meant to be alone. Was this what the universe had planned for you? You weren’t sure you believed in multiple soulmates, so what happened when yours left you?

If you miss me, just look at the stars. She would always sign the text with a ‘;)’ at the end and you would mock her with a scoff, replying with or I could just call you, dumbass.

Without realizing, you were already bringing up your history of text messages with her, scrolling through the endless one-sided green texts, each decorated with a delivery error message. Your fingers were hovering over the keyboard while the pulsing blue line stared back at you.

“Where are you?” you were wailing out, wincing subsequently at the unexpected echo and crack in your voice. The thundering in the distance seemed to answer you, but you wished the stars were out so that you’d at least know she was watching over you. You couldn’t help but feel that the cloudy skies meant she couldn’t see you, or worse, look out for you. A droplet landed on your cheek and your eyelids fluttered shut at the feeling. You weren’t sure if they were your tears or hers.

It was the end of the week and you somehow found yourself making your way up the mountainous roads again, remembering coming home last time with extraordinary peace of mind despite the frazzled state you arrived in. You weren’t sure what it was, but it was pushing you to get out of the city once again.

The air was noticeably cooler than it had been last week, and you were scanning your backseat for any signs of a sweater, sighing inwardly when you found none. It was warm when you left your office earlier in the evening and you mentally cursed at yourself for not checking the weather yet again.

You contemplated staying in the car with the heat on, but a glimpse of your glowing fuel light had you rolling your eyes in disappointment for being so forgetful and inattentive on top of the countless other flaws you felt you carried.

You were making your way toward the empty bench again, spotting the camper van in the same parking spot. You assumed it hadn’t moved since the last time you were here, most likely having been abandoned. There were considerably fewer clouds in the sky today and you beamed at the view of the small specks of white splattered against the darkness.

“Give me a sign that it’ll all be okay, please,” you spoke while eyeing the stars above you, some brighter than others. Your hair flew in the wind, draping across your face as goosebumps formed on your arms as you prepared to let the rest of your thoughts out. You didn’t remember closing your eyes, but the sound of footsteps approaching had you instinctively opening them and straightening your back and you suddenly felt a weight on your shoulders, gasping to find someone draping their flannel jacket over you.

“Sorry if I scared you,” he spoke against the wind. “You seemed cold.” A boy, now in a plain black shirt, was making his way around the other side of the bench to sit down next to you. He left considerable space between the two of you, which you were silently thankful for.

You spun around to see where he had parked, not having noticed another car arrive and when you saw nothing but your own car and the camper van, you felt a chill run down your spine. Alarm bells should’ve been going off in your head, but you were seemingly more concerned with the fact that he had most likely seen you in your most vulnerable state, crying out into the open void like a lunatic, not only once, but twice now.

When he felt you staring, he turned his head only to briefly make eye contact with you before glancing back down at his lap. His skin was a pretty shade of olive, the tip of his nose illuminated by the hazy moonlight. You took in the rest of his appearance—worn sneakers with one of the laces untied, ripped jeans, and shaggy hair that covered his eyes, and you found yourself resisting the urge to run your fingers through his locks.

“Why do you keep coming here?” he was asking, picking his head up once more to look at you.

You weren’t so sure yourself. Maybe it was the fact that this was the only place where you didn’t have to pretend. You didn’t know if you wanted to talk to her, to yourself, or to the universe in general; you didn’t know if you wanted to scream or cry or sit in complete silence. All you knew was that after a particularly bad day at work, you were taking the exit off the highway without thinking, almost as if you had taken this same exit a hundred times before.

“I could ask you the same,” you chuckled. There was an awkward pause, and you were realizing that he wasn’t going to answer you.

“I’m here to u-uh, stargaze.” You were telling the truth, at least partially.

“Stargazing’s not the best here, with the light pollution and all,” he replied. You hummed, unsure how to respond. He noticed your hesitation and was rubbing his palms against the black denim of his jeans before clearing his throat.

“‘m Heeseung, by the way.” At first, Heeseung found himself slightly annoyed at the fact that you had disrupted his peace and not-so-secret hideout spot, observing you from his van while you mumbled to yourself on the bench.

“I travel in my van, but ‘m running low on money.” He was rubbing the back of his neck, slightly embarrassed to admit the fact. “The parking here’s free, so…” he trailed off, regretting it immediately after stating the obvious.

As he got a better look at your face up close, he saw that a small frown seemed semi-permanently etched on your face, which he could tell you were hopelessly attempting to correct as he studied you. A wave of guilt washed over him upon registration of his untimely intrusion, realizing that you would probably prefer to be alone right now due to the blatant evidence that you were pretending to look less dejected in front of him.

You were briefly introducing yourself as someone new to the city, not knowing what else was interesting about you and accidentally slipping in the fact that you ‘didn’t really have any friends’, teeth chattering slightly even with his jacket resting over your frame.

“Did you want to sit in my van instead?” Your frown was faltering when your lips parted in surprise at his request. He contemplated adding a lighthearted comment about not being a serial killer to reassure you, but you were already trailing behind him as he stood up. You could tell he was tall when his legs were stretched out next to yours while sat next on the bench, but he was even taller than you’d imagined when he was standing up, even with a slight hunch in his posture.

Heeseung peered over his shoulder to catch you struggling to keep up with his longer strides, still clutching onto the collar of his jacket over your right shoulder and he let a soft smile adorn his face as he slowed his pace to match yours. He was rounding the front of his van to open the passenger side door for you but you were already cutting in front of him, hopping up on the door sill clumsily.

You let yourself into the passenger side, holding the jacket out to Heeseung who was still staring at you through the driver side window. He opened the door and pulled himself into the seat, reluctantly taking the jacket from you and tossing it on some unknown surface of the van behind him.

He turned on the ceiling light of his van and began blasting the heat after noticing that you were sitting on the backs of your hands. His fingers were fiddling with the knobs on the CD player to turn on soft, lullaby-like piano music and you made a poor attempt at stifling a laugh. For some reason, you expected him to be into rock music and found the unexpected contrast endearing.

Heeseung shot you a confused look at the sound and you simply shook your head and waved it off, a small smile still playing on your lips. You couldn’t put your finger on what it was, but you felt a strange sense of comfort in his presence.

For the first time that night, you were taking a closer look at his features. Underneath his bangs were eyes that carried both fervor and innocence and lips that were held in a constant, soft pout. He was chewing on his bottom lip, eyes darting around the space in front of him at the feeling of you staring at him so intently. He shook his head so that his bangs were falling over his eyes again in one swift movement before thinking of something to say to take your attention off his face.

“I dropped out of college when I was 18,” he was muttering, trying to gauge your reaction from his peripheral view before continuing. “And then I ran away from home to travel.” He was leaving out key details like the fact that he didn’t necessarily run away from home with the goal of traveling but instead began traveling because he simply had nowhere else to go.

When he came home after his first semester with an official diagnosis from his university’s health center, his family refused to let him seek therapy or any other form of help. With a father who was never home and a mother who went as far as threatening to disown him if he didn’t return to school the following semester, Heeseung wasn’t left with much of a choice.

You were surprised that he was even sharing this much with you. Your heart tightened at the thought of him being alone in the world at such a young age and his lack of a support system, seemingly more alone than you were. He was considerably better than you at concealing his loneliness and you hated that fact, not because you wanted to be better at it but because you knew just how much effort it took.

Heeseung could barely remember what it was like to have his father around, the only seemingly harmonious moments spent with him before he started grade school fleeting and long forgotten. The bulk of his adolescence was spent resenting his father for the way he treated his mother, where his father would appear through the front door every few months or so in one of his drunken episodes, an empty bottle of liquor already in hand.

He almost always knew when it was happening, the rummaging through the cabinets and refrigerator for alcohol reverberating through the house and to his room. He couldn’t understand why his mother wouldn’t stop restocking the house with it or why she wouldn’t change the locks or take his father’s keys or even file for a divorce, and he couldn’t help but despise her weakness and inability to stop pitying her husband.

“Look who decided to finally show up for his mother,” the older man seethed, breath reeking from the drunken stench.

A particularly loud argument had Heeseung flying down the stairs, the sound of a glass bottle breaking causing his mother to let a scream out of her mouth. He took in his father’s appearance, unshaven and eyes bloodshot with a lazy smirk playing on his lips. A look off to the side at his mother with tears streaming down her cheeks was suddenly leading to punches being thrown and knuckles growing bloodied. A harsh shove from his father caused him to lose his balance and tumble onto the wooden floor.

“Maybe ask yourself why you’re defending a fucking cheater instead,” his voice boomed through the living room. A puzzled expression took over Heeseung’s face as he turned toward his mother who winced both at the sound of her husband slamming the door as he left and the way her son ran his tongue over his busted lip, eyes beginning to gloss over.

After finally grasping the fact that his mother was not the person she made herself out to be and what pushed his father over the edge over ten years ago, Heeseung, who had always stuck close to her growing up, attempting to make up for the lack of his father’s presence, began growing increasingly distant from her as he finished his final years of high school. The very thing he swore he wouldn’t touch in his life was the only thing he took with him and stashed in his van the night he left.

He was wrapping his hand around the nearly empty beer can in his cup holder from the thought of his childhood memories and shooting a pained expression your way at the paled look on your face, eyes pooling with concern and he tried to perceive it as anything but pity.

“I honestly don’t mind it much,” he was saying, but an unfamiliar look was flashing across his eyes and even though you barely knew him, you felt like you could see right through him.

He was redirecting his gaze out the windshield. He had used the North Star almost as a source of direction in his travels for the past few years, as cliche as it sounded. Tonight was the first night it was visible in the two weeks he had been parked here, deciding to camp out in the deserted park until it reappeared and he had saved enough money from his part-time job in the city.

The North Star appeared noticeably brighter tonight, a beacon in the middle of the night shrouded in shadows and Heeseung was suddenly wondering whether it was a coincidence that you were here with him at this very moment, whether you were the very person who hung the North Star for him in the night sky, guiding him toward a purposeful destination, or whether you were the destination itself. He was shaking his head at the intrusive thought as you followed his line of sight.

The heat blowing throughout the van was fogging up the windows and blocking up your view of what he seemed to be focusing his gaze on. Heeseung watched as you turned in your seat, moving your body to face the passenger window with one leg folded up on the cushion. You were bringing your fingers up to touch the glass, slowly drawing a heart with your index finger and peering through the clear traces at the sky.

Heeseung, nowhere near intoxicated from his built up tolerance over the years, took one last sip of his drink, still not taking his eyes away from your side profile and subtle movements as you immersed yourself in your own world for the second time that night. He was turning to his own window to mirror your actions, outlining a much sloppier heart on the glass. By the time he finished and spun around to face you, you were already watching him with a beam, the apples of your cheeks rosy.

You were suddenly bursting into laughter, your brain on autopilot as you leaned over the center console to fix his drawing. You were practically pushed up against him with your hand resting on his thigh as you drew over his sketch on the window, adding a dozen more hearts around the first and filling up the rest of the fogged glass with your doodles. Heeseung was noticeably stiffening under you, attempting to distract himself from his quickening heart rate by picking at the fraying of his jeans on the leg you weren’t perched on.

You leaned back to admire your silly artwork for a few seconds before glancing over at him and noticing Heeseung’s eyelashes fluttering delicately, still reeling from the sudden physical contact. Upon noticing the close proximity, you were removing your hand from his lap and bringing it back into your own, leaning into the seat again and you could feel the heat evident on your face, knowing it must’ve been even more apparent to him. He was no better at concealing his own expressions as his sheepish smile faltered, feeling abnormally disappointed in the sudden loss of contact.

Still in a daze, Heeseung was reaching behind him to grab a can of beer, holding it out in front of you while his eyes were trained on the single heart drawn on the passenger side window. He held back a grimace as he realized that he’d done so without thinking, hoping you hadn’t caught on to his dependency. You accepted his offer without hesitation, wiping the rim of the opening with the bottom of your shirt and popping open the tab, taking gulps at a much faster speed than you were normally used to.

Your head was still spinning with the thought and feeling of the burn of your fingertips against his thigh. You both drifted into a comfortable silence, the music no longer playing since the CD player in his rundown van didn’t have the ability to auto loop tracks or albums and the hammering of his heart against his chest seemed almost too loud for you not to notice. Heeseung thought about taking out the disk and replacing it but decided against it, not wanting to disrupt the stillness of the air around you.

Your lips formed a small frown as you saw clouds beginning to shape. You thought it was the alcohol deceiving you, but you blinked a few times and the clouds were still there.

“I hate the rain because it means I can’t see her. It makes me think that she’s crying,” you suddenly whispered, breaking the silence. You could feel his gaze fall to you as he fell out of his trance, but he didn’t ask who, just simply nodded.

His reaction made you freeze in your spot, realizing you had most definitely overshared beyond an imaginary boundary. You almost wanted to apologize for it before you were saying the next thing that came to your mind.

“Have you ever fallen in love?” you were abruptly blurting out.

He was quirking his brow in amusement. “Come on, I can barely fall asleep,” he laughed softly but not without a somewhat pained expression behind his eyes. You had assumed it was a joke, but the sincerity in the way he observed you told you it wasn’t. Your eyes widened before you were nodding softly and returning a weak smile, taken aback by his confession.

“Don’t worry about it,” he was brushing it off. “You?”

You were staring out the windshield again for a few moments, lost in your thoughts before responding, “A lot of unrequited love, if that counts.”

You began to explain how you had never been in a relationship, not because you didn’t want to, but because it was seemingly out of your control. You presumed that the time you spent on this earth loving romantically without any reciprocation had somehow altered your brain chemistry to truly believe that you were meant to be alone from the very beginning, and you were often wondering which would hurt more, to have had true love and lost it or to never have had it at all. Dwelling over the fact that you had already experienced some form of both made your situation seem all the more ridiculous.

It didn’t go unnoticed by him the way you were flighty in your thoughts, jumping to one without finishing the other. As a result of the accumulation of thoughts you created when you were alone, all the things you would talk to yourself about came spilling out.

Your mind went on talking even when you were alone. And when you ran out of storage, the thoughts needed to come out somehow. Partly due to your insecurities you hoped that by talking more, you’d be accepted and loved by someone—it hadn’t proved itself to be a successful method in the past and you weren’t sure it ever would be.

“I give, and give, and give. That’s all I do,” you continued, your voice now uneven and trembling slightly. “I give until I have nothing left. I’m terrified of the love I have because I know it will ruin me—it already has, and I know I will continue to let it.”

You were heaving out a sigh of relief at the massive weight being lifted off your chest, still feeling a sort of emptiness but a strangely pleasant lightness associated with it. Even then, you were perplexed by your own eagerness to share your entire life story to someone you met just hours ago, partially blaming the alcohol for how unfiltered you became and you couldn’t tell what Heeseung was thinking from the stoic look on his face and his big doe eyes blinking back at you.

It most definitely wasn’t a feeling of pity, that he knew. It felt almost like a weakness in the heart—like his heart wasn’t working properly—a fleeting lightness that passed through him, being simultaneously lulled to sleep by a single gesture and set on fire by your every touch.

Your eyes were glossed over, from your lengthy outpour or intoxicated state Heeseung wasn’t certain, but he held not a single ounce of doubt of the amount of love you held. Unsure of what came over him, he was resisting the urge to lean over and cup the sides of your face and tell you that even in his broken, wretched state, he was willing to accept anything you had to give and return everything and more.

“It’s really late. I can drive you home,” he was offering. He convinced you he was sobering up with a lazy smile plastered on his face, yet you couldn’t help raising your brows at the slight flush of his cheeks and numerous empty beer cans in the cup holder.

“I think I’d rather stay here,” you were speaking nonchalantly before turning to look at him with what Heeseung thought he saw were literal stars in your otherwise cloudy eyes. At the implication of your words, he could feel and hear his heart beating at a pace so fast it rang through his ears. As much of an open book as you were, he didn’t expect that from you and you even stunned yourself as the words left you, mouth now agape as you stared back at him.

You wanted to blame your lack of sobriety yet again but you knew that the flood of emotions had put your mind in a remarkable state of clarity. His calmness—how he listened and watched attentively without any questions, just simply looking at you with a fondness in his eyes—fastened you with a sense of immense trust in him.

Thankfully, he was quickly nodding and turning around to turn on the lights that lit up the rest of his van. In contrast to his somewhat rugged appearance, his space was neat and cozy and it amazed you how few belongings he had; everything fit in his van and there was almost no clutter. The only hint of personality and life you could find was the guitar hanging over the bed, and you were smiling to yourself knowing he at least had music to accompany him.

Heeseung had suggested cooking some ramen for you, but you simply shook your head with a sleepy smile and told him you weren’t hungry. He didn’t say anything as he clambered on top of his sheets and patted the spot next to him. There wasn’t much space in the van for anything other than a bed and a small stovetop and you were skeptical there would be enough room for you to both lay comfortably.

You fit yourself on the mattress between him and the back door while he crawled under the covers, pushing his pillow toward you behind your back and grabbing an extra one from beneath the bed for himself. You were still sat leaning against the side of the van as you contemplated your next move, wondering whether you should prioritize comfort or decency and you squirmed at the thought of your dirty jeans on someone else’s sheets.

A brief glance at Heeseung, who was lying on his back with his eyes closed and hands resting over his stomach, had you quickly tucking yourself under the blankets and unzipping your jeans, pulling them down and kicking them over your ankles. You were shuffling downward and placing the now folded jeans beside your pillow, facing away from Heeseung as you pulled the covers up to your chest.

You couldn’t tell but Heeseung had visibly stiffened, eyebrows now slightly furrowed in concentration as he attempted to fall asleep, willing himself to think about anything other than you and your presence inches away from him. He was staring at the ceiling, breath uneven at how you were so similar in the way you craved connection yet different in the sources of your troubles and the way you coped—one capable of giving anything and one who didn’t know how to give at all.

You felt the bed dip and you could hear Heeseung shuffling around behind you, his heavy breathing against your neck telling you he was now facing you, and still lying on your side when you felt his fingers graze across your hip bone.

The heat radiating off his body behind you was seeping into your own skin, slowly building into a burn before you were flipping yourself over to face him and immediately thrown off by just how close he was. A slight lean forward from either of you would close the gap, and your eyes were unconsciously flickering down to his lips at the thought.

You were pulling yourself flush against him, savoring the feeling of your bodies pressed so closely together, resting your head in the crook of his neck and he let out a sharp gasp from above you. You could feel his heart beating underneath your palms as you moved your hands across the expanse of his chest. A slight crane of your neck and you were tentatively placing your lips against his jaw, a shaky breath of Heeseung’s fanning your face from the action.

As your kisses moved from his jaw down to his neck, his mouth was parting softly, lifting his head into the pillow to provide you with more access. One particularly harsh suck against his collarbone had him surging forward for more, latching onto the hem of your shirt and fingers hesitantly grazing the waistband of your underwear.

Heeseung was then leaning forward onto his elbows, the hand that was previously slotted between your bodies wrapping around your shoulder to pull you up and level to him, bringing you into a gentle kiss that caused the hairs on your arms to raise.

It overwhelmed you how thrilling yet calming it felt to be kissing him. You were completely drinking him in, the touch of his skin against yours heating up the pits of your stomach and causing shivers to wrack through you and simultaneously taking your mind off of everything else.

He was gentle with his touch, but his lips were rough and chapped and he was kissing you with so much longing and desperation that for a second, you contemplated whether this was his first time kissing someone, craving any and every bit of physical contact. You quickly dismissed the thought as he took advantage of your inattentiveness with a swipe of his tongue against your bottom lip, your lips parting slightly, allowing him to slip his tongue into your mouth skillfully.

Your stomach churned and you were writhing under his touch from the way your tongues intertwined, a pit of heat rising in your lower stomach. Heeseung was letting out a choked whimper at the feeling of your hands reaching underneath his shirt, smoothing over the skin of his stomach.

“You okay?” you were whispering as you pulled back, hands coming up to cup his cheeks. He held your gaze for a few seconds, both delicacy and sharpness etched in his features, before his lashes fluttered and he was shaking his head, burying it in your neck. Your hands were sliding along his scalp to soothingly stroke his hair, heart aching at the vulnerability and rawness with which he looked at you.

It wasn’t clear whether the cause of his feverish state was from the simple presence of you in his arms, but something told you that you should’ve seen it coming when the way he looked at you gradually began changing as the hours progressed.

You were pulling back and placing one last, soft kiss against his lips, lingering for a few moments too long before wrapping your arms around his torso in a tight embrace and rubbing his back gingerly.

Heeseung was redirecting his attention out at the sky through the back window, foolishly looking for you and him in the stars. Some stars gradually dim and lose their luster, and on a rainy night, you might never see them again.

You weren’t thinking about what would happen when the stars faded and the sun rose, or when you would see him again—you didn’t need to see him or be physically near him to feel him. Your subconscious was finding comfort simply from the feeling of his chest pressed against yours, your thumb rubbing circles over his shirt while you listened to Heeseung's soft breathing and the sound of the rain beginning to fall against the windows.

A/N: the bolded quote is based on something I saw on twitter: “I’m scared of the love I have for you. Because I know it will ruin me. And I also know that I will let it. I love hard.” but I couldn’t find the source, so credits to the original owner.

#enhypen #heeseung #lee heeseung #heeseung angst #heeseung smut #enhypen angst #enhypen smut #lee heeseung smut #lee heeseung angst #heeseung x reader #heeseung imagine #heeseung scenario #enhypen imagine #enhypen scenario #enhypen heeseung #heeseung hard hours #lee heeseung imagine

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average-vibe · 4 months

Text

•Fame Hurts 2•

Pairing: Wilbur Soot x Streamer!Fem!reader

Summary: your presence on social media fades, and your ex notices.

Genre: Angst, Fluff at the end

TW: cursing, arguing

AN: HOLY SHIT YALL LOVED THE FIRST ONE???? SLAY??? AGAIN TY TO @modelbus for inspo!

TAGS (sorry if you didn’t want it!): @queenofdisaster-6 @lemonboys-stuff @cathers-world

part 1 is here

masterlist

Wilbur had broke up with you over 2 weeks ago, and you hadn’t streamed, posted, or made any presence on social media since then. You didn’t see any point in trying to redeeming yourself, as people would still say the same shit anyway. About how you were using him, how you didn’t deserve your fame, and how you needed to humble yourself.

quite honestly, you hated yourself for not seeing the signs sooner. How Wilbur wanted to ‘Talk’ that one day, or how he became distant for a little bit after you had collaborated on a stream, or when your stream views started to decline. It was so fucking obvious, but you were too caught up in your own emotions to notice.

You hadn’t checked your phone since then either. It had been on ‘Do Not Disturb’ since you went to an old friend, Carissa’s, apartment to stay. The only person who knew you were alive was Carissa, and she was the only one who saw you. As far as everyone else knew, you had disappeared out of nowhere.

But today, for some odd reason, you had the urge to turn your phone off of ‘Do Not Disturb’ and check your notifications.

There were about 2000.

Texts, comments, DMs, and tags had taken over your notifications, mostly people just wondering where you went.

@bae: where did @yn.loves.you and @WilburSoot go??? did they die? where did they go??? —>@gaywaffle: i’ve been wondering this forever! like did smth happen???

you didn’t know Wilbur stopped posting too. but sure enough, his last tweet was about 3 weeks ago. And his last stream was 15 days ago. He hadn’t been position either, and it was a mystery to you why.

Next, the texts. Oh, the texts.

Tommy: YN wtf where are you????

BooRan: YN, please answer

Wilbur (blocked): 75 messages

You knew it wasn’t gonna end well, and that it was a bad idea, but you clicked on Wilbur’s profile.

Wilbur (blocked)

I’m sorry

please yn

respond please

it was shitty

i’m sorry yn

i love you so much

please..

Your vision turned red. after all the shit he said about you, after all the hurtful things he did, after fucking dumping you because of people on twitter, he was begging you to come back. you got up and stomped to your car. Your plan? to go to wilbur’s house and yell at him until you couldn’t yell. or until you passed out.

You pulled into wilbur’s driveway, with nothing but your phone and a lot of angry thoughts. you opened his unlocked door, and found him sleeping on the couch. You got some water from the fridge, brought it over to him, and poured it in his face.

he woke up with a jolt, sputtering and thrashing around like an idiot. he looked at his attacker, who was you, and his eyes lit up.

“YN!” he said, a smile gracing his lips.

“YOU BITCH!” you screamed, wiping the kind look away from his face. "Fucking dump me on the side of the road, then try to get back with me?? cause you realized that your too fucking sad without a girlfriend to stare at? I’m so sorry that YOU brought this upon yourself!” you continued, voice faltering in tears. you didn’t want to cry, but you couldn’t help it. the fact that every single word was true, and not one misunderstood word, made it hurt so much more.

“YN, can i explain?” he asked, eyes looking more sad than anything.

“Explain what? how you-“

you were cut off by a kiss. A gentle, sweet, loving kiss. if you weren’t so mad, you would even admit you liked it. and you couldn’t deny the fact you leaned into it.

He let go, looking at your eyes. “I’m sorry, i shouldn’t have done that. I just hate to see you so mad- and at me, i just didn’t know what to do. can i please explain?”

you let out a loud sigh. “alright, go ahead.”

“Tommy told me that you loved me more than anything in the world, and so did Ran, and Phil too. everyone was saying how much they loved you.. except for the people who didn’t know you. I realized that the only reason people were saying that shit was because they didn’t know you. And if they did, they would never say that about you. Your sweet, smart, funny, beautiful, kind, and an incredible person. and i cannot believe i ever broke up with you. i’m so sorry.” he said everything in a fast paced manner, looking at the floor for the entire time.

your anger melted away. The way he said everything, you knew it was coming right from his heart. he glanced at you for but a second, and you decided to fuck it. you grabbed his face and kissed him, again. this time, it was happy. full of love, and pure joy.

you let go, and gave him a hug, at this point, you were both crying.

“YN, do you forgive me?” he asked, voice cracking.

“Yes, Wil. i forgive you.”

—

what can i say i like ending on words

ANYWAY

i wrote this is 1 sitting so uh

yeah

there MIGHT be a part 3 😏

only if you ask nicely 🙄

OKAY ILYSM BYEEEE

-vibe

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beabidobi · 2 months

Text

𝐓𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐢𝐭

P1 - “If it’s all in my head, tell me now.”

summary: small short angsty fic series based on the song Tolerate It by Taylor Swift

pairing: f!reader x miguel o’hara

content warnings: use of y/n, angst, no happy ending, Miguel’s an arsehole, relationship negligence

word count: 400

authors note: first post woo!

It’s been three days, sixteen hours and fifty minutes since Miguel came home. You’d called and texted, to which he either let it go to voicemail or leave on read, and you’d talked to Lyla who said he was fine just busy.

It’s been one month and fifteen days since Miguel has taken you out on a date.

It’s been five days since he’s said “I love you.” Did he even still love you? Maybe he’d finally had enough.

Today is the third day you’ve cooked dinner for him, for it to be left out cold by morning; untouched. And today that you’ve decided, this is the last time you’d call him, text him, cook for him and wait for him at the door until he decided it was time to come home.

── ⋆⋅ ୨୧ ⋅⋆ ──

“Miguel, don’t you think it’s time to go home? You know, to your girlfriend Y/n. You remember her, right?” Lyla says to the unshaven man hunched over his workspace.

“I’ll go home when I finish my work. I’m sure y/n can occupy herself for a few extra hours.” He replies with a disinterested tone as he continues tinkering with his new project.

Lyla shakes her head in disapproval and disappears, knowing there was no point in fighting him.

Miguel snaps out of his flow two hours later when the loud grumbling of his stomach interrupted him. He hasn’t eaten since yesterday morning. Deciding it’s finally time for a break, he grabs his phone from his desk and heads down to the spider society cafeteria to get some lunch.

“Well, look who’s out of the lair.” Peter B Parker joked from his seat at a table. Miguel grunts in response, rolling his eyes and grabbing a sandwich before making his way back to his office. A small frown pulls on his face when he opens his phone reading ‘no older notifications.’ Usually, he’d have about three missed calls and a dozen texts from you by now, but there’s nothing. Maybe he should go home.

“Hey, man. We’re going to the bar for a little celebration since we finally managed to track down those bank robberies. You comin’?” Peters voice wakes him from his thoughts when he comes in unannounced. He couldn’t say no, it was to celebrate work well done after all. Surely you’d be fine if he came home a little later.

“Yeah. Meet you down there.”

P2 - “tell me i’ve got it wrong somehow.”

103 notes · View notes

1800-fight-me · 11 months

Text

Thunderstorms & Heartache

Aemond Targaryen x Female!Reader

Rating: M (Mature)- as a general rule for my blog, minors please do not interact!

Warnings: violence, cursing, kidnapping, men being creepy.... i think that’s all.

Word count: About 5.6k

Synopsis: When Aemond captures you the night before your wedding, your life goes down a path of twists and turns that you never expected. Here’s my take on an enemies-to-lovers snuggling-to-survive Aemond x reader fic!

Author’s note: Sorry I’ve been gone for months! I’m throwing this into the void and running away again (lol) there will eventually (most likely) be a part two to this fic. I still make no promises that I will be back on tumblr regularly, but I hope y’all like this!

I am no longer using a taglist! Instead if you would like to be notified when I post new fics follow my side blog @jo-writes-fanfic and turn your post notifications on!

Aemond Masterlist

You woke in a panic as a hand that was certainly not yours covered your mouth and prevented you from screaming.

Your eyes widened and your ineffective frantic efforts to fight back lessened as you saw who woke you.

At the recognition in your eyes he raised his brow in a silent question of your compliance.

“If I take my hand away, will you scream?” he whispered.

You reluctantly shook your head even as you glared at him.

He did as promised and you took a deep breath as you attempted to calm the sharp panic that flowed through you.

“What the hell are you doing here, Aemond?” you hissed.

“I am here to rescue you,” he said as he sat back on your bed and pulled you up to a sitting position.

“Rescue me? I never asked to be rescued,” you snapped at him, wide eyed and confused.

“Regardless, you are coming with me, sweetheart,” he said with a roll of his eye and enough sarcasm to raise your blood pressure.

“No, I’m not. Get out of here before I’m caught with a man in my room the night before my wedding,” you said through clenched teeth as you attempted to extricate yourself from his hands as he held your wrist and shoulder.

His grip only tightened.

“There will be no wedding,” he replied shortly and you wanted to smack the stupid eyepatch off his face.

“So you are capturing me then. Who are you to dictate my future?”

He stared at you with a deadpan look that you were all too familiar with.

“Your capturer, obviously. Is that not how being captured works?” he drawled.

You huffed indignantly.

“Are you going to be compliant or will you make this whole ordeal more miserable than it has to be?” he asked as he stood and pulled you out of the bed with him.

“The second option,” you snipped back.

He sighed dramatically even as he threw you over his shoulder unexpectedly and you let out an indignant squeak in surprise.

“Be quiet,” he hissed.

“No! If you do not put me down I will scream, I swear it. I will screech and holler and-”

The wind was taken out of you as he suddenly dropped you down on your bed once more.

“Quiet! You will get us caught!,” he whispered angrily.

“Yes, my prince, that is pretty much the point,” you said with a roll of your eyes.

He pursed his lips in anger as he pulled out a knife.

Your eyes widened once again in fear, but he used it to cut fabric off the sheet on your bed and then wrapped it across your mouth and tied it on the back of your head.

You let out a muffled curse of anger and he smirked in satisfaction.

“Now, do I need to tie your hands and feet together as well or will you be a good little captive and come with me willingly?”

You merely glared at him and folded your arms across your chest in a small act of defiance.

You knew that you were incapable of fighting him off physically. The last time you saw him was about a year and a half ago and even then as you watched him train you were taken back by how quick and lethal he had become.

“Good,” he said with a small upcurve of his lips and hauled you over his shoulder once more.

_______________

After much sneaking, he made it out of the fortress and crept around to the side where a horse waited for him.

The moon was at the dark phase of her cycle and it was nearly pitch black.

He pulled you off his shoulder and placed you on the ground surprisingly gently and slowly which caused your breath to catch.

As your body slid down the length of his you tried to remind yourself that you hate him.

You never were very good at believing that particular lie, no matter how many times you told yourself.

He pulled the cloth off your mouth. There was a soft look in his eye.

You looked over at the horse and then back at him.

“Where is Vhagar?” you asked.

He pursed his lips in annoyance and looked up at the sky as if he were cursing you inside his mind.

“It would not exactly be inconspicuous to have the largest dragon in the world here with me, now would it?”

You narrowed your eyes at him as you placed your hands on your hips.

“She waits for us, but it is a few days' journey on horseback to reach her,” he explained.

“This is the worst kidnapping I’ve ever been a part of,” you muttered.

He ignored you, even as he shook his head and moved past you to the horse.

He ran his hand across its mane and then pulled a bundle of clothes out of the saddle bag.

He thrust them at you and turned back to the horse.

“Dress quickly. We need to leave immediately,” he ordered.

You didn’t have a retort as you truly were grateful for the warm clothes and quickly shucked off your nightgown and redressed in them.

You were surprised to find that he had given you trousers as opposed to a dress, but you supposed it made sense given the long and cold journey ahead of you. You were grateful for the multiple layers and warmth they provided you.

You traded your slippers for thick socks and boots and with a small clearing of your throat he turned back to survey your work.

He nodded and pulled your hood over your head, his touch surprisingly gentle, just as his had been firmly pulled over his shock of white hair to hide it.

He helped you onto the horse and then sat right behind you.

The heat of his chest warmed your back as his body was pressed tightly against yours.

He clicked his tongue and the horse started at a gallop, and soon it was a sprint.

You and your captor made your way south towards King’s Landing without detection.

_______________

As the sun began to rise your eyes drooped and your head fell back against Aemond’s shoulder.

“If you fall asleep and tumble off the horse I shall be incredibly cross with you,” he drawled and you huffed.

“You dragged me out of my bed in the middle of the night, how do you expect me to not be tired?”

He sighed.

“We will stop soon, but we need to get as much distance between us and your former betrothed,” he said firmly.

You decided to try to annoy him with your silence. It always used to work when you were children. Sure, Aemond was one who appreciates silence, but not when it was due to your anger at him. He never used to be able to handle it when you were mad at him.

But, oh, how times have changed.

“What? No withering retort?” he demanded.

You maintained your silence.

“Hm. Glorious silence. I would have kidnapped you earlier if I knew it was the price of such blessed quiet,” he said with a dark chuckle.

You rolled your eyes but refused to speak.

He sighed softly at his failed attempts to bait you into conversation.

You smirked in satisfaction.

_______________

Hours later you finally said, “I thought you said we would stop soon.”

He laughed spitefully. “I thought you weren’t speaking to me.”

You sighed.

“Up here looks like a safe place to rest for a little while,” he said softly as he led the horse off the path and further into the woods.

You sat and ate your meal of bread, dried meat, and hard cheese while you watched him pull various items out of the saddle bags.

He laid a blanket out on the ground and gestured towards it.

You watched him warily and did not move.

“Honestly, are you really going to be angry with me the entirety of this trip?” he asked as he sat down and crossed his long legs.

“Trip? This isn’t a trip, Aemond. You stole me from the home of my betrothed!”

He sighed and rolled his eye.

“You are such a prick,” you seethed.

“It is not as if you wished to marry him! Look me in the eye and truthfully tell me you desired to be wed to that sack of shit and I will betray my brother’s orders and take you back immediately.”

You looked down at your hands as you fidgeted and ripped apart the bread nervously.

You could not tell him what he asked of you.

You didn’t want to look up and see the smirk that surely adorned his lips.

“It was my duty,” you said softly, weakly.

“You used to care little for duty,” he said, his voice velvety smooth, the way it always did when he felt assured he had won an argument.

“Yes, well I grew up, Aemond. I learned that I must do what was expected of me in order to survive,” you rasped as tears began to fill your eyes.

You risked a glance up at you and his expression was hard, but there was a flicker of remorse and concern in his eye.

You looked away.

He sighed.

“Rest. I’ll wake you in a few hours so we can continue our journey,” he said and you nodded.

You returned the remainder of your food to the saddle bag and as you laid on the blanket, Aemond laid another on top of you.

You didn’t get a chance to say anything as he immediately turned and walked a few paces away to sit on watch.

Sleep quickly found you.

_______________

You woke, once again, to Aemond startling you awake.

It was becoming a habit for him, one you loathed.

He hissed your name and shook your shoulder as he crouched over you.

You looked at him and opened your mouth but he shook his head and whispered, “There’s a group of men coming this way. We need to be prepared.”

You nodded even as your heart began to pound.

As quickly as you could, you helped him pack up the supplies.

He pulled up his hood and you followed suit before he helped you up onto the horse.

He was soon behind you and grabbed the reins.

“I don’t have to remind you that betraying me and taking your chances with random men would be a horribly stupid decision, do I?” he murmured in your ear as four men on horses neared the two of you as you returned to the path in the forest.

The thought had of course crossed your mind. But you at least knew Aemond to be relatively honorable. You didn’t have the same assurances of the strange men you were soon to encounter.

“No,” you breathed out.

“Good. Take your hood down. Perhaps if they are distracted by how pretty you are they will not ask many questions of us,” he whispered.

Your heart thumped harder within your chest.

You did as he asked.

“Would it not have been wiser to keep hiding?” you murmured back as the men were close enough to properly view them.

You gulped in fear.

“We were not very well hidden. And besides, it is always better to meet potential enemies prepared and on your feet,” he said quietly, his mouth close to your ear.

“Hello there!” one of the men called out as he raised his hand in a wave.

Aemond waved back.

They met you in the road and Aemond pulled the horse to a halt.

“Where are you lot headed?” the man asked in a thick accent and a too curious gleam in his eye.

“My wife and I are headed south towards the city to find better work,” Aemond replied curtly.

You kept your expression neutral though you wanted to scowl at him calling you his wife.

“Not much work in the city. You may have to go further,” one of the men called out.

“Thank you for the suggestion. We’ll take it into consideration,” Aemond replied and indicated the horse to continue forward.

“Have I seen you somewhere before?” the man in the back asked, and he was looking directly at you.

You shook your head, but did not speak for fear that your shaky voice would betray you.

“I highly doubt it. My wife and I have lived very remote for the last few years. But she does have the type of beauty that feels familiar to many,” he said and one hand curled around your hip protectively.

“Safe travels,” he then said before they could reply and continued his guidance of the horse forward and past the group of men.

“To you as well,” one of the men replied but there was something in his voice that pricked at the back of your neck.

You turned and watched the men as they rode in the opposite direction.

Once they were out of sight you heaved a sigh of relief and slumped back into his body.

He buried his face in your neck and hair and hummed softly.

“I do not think they believed our story. We must make haste as well as change our route, otherwise we may find more trouble,” Aemond said.

You allowed yourself a few more moments of comfort from his touch before you sat up straighter and put as much space between the two of you that riding together on a horse would allow, which wasn’t very much.

“Okay,” you said shakily.

_______________

Trouble found you not much later in the form of a viciously cold thunderstorm.

Harsh rain turned into ice as it pelted your skin. The cold cut through and seeped into your bones.

Aemond had already led the horse off the beaten path and through the woods, a lesser known path he claimed to be familiar with.

The trees did not provide enough protection from the weather, however.

Hooded cloaks could only do so much to prevent one from becoming soaked.

As quickly as possible, but also after what felt like an eternity, Aemond spotted a shallow cave on the side of a large hill.

It was protected enough from the elements to provide a reprieve.

You pulled off your cloak and found that your shirt was not as wet as you expected, the same however could not be said for your pants.

At the look on your face Aemond said, “I do not have any additional clothes for either of us. You should still remove them and let them dry.”

You glared at him.

“I will freeze to death.”

He tossed you the blankets.

“You’ll freeze quicker wearing cold wet clothes.”

You pursed your lips together but could not deny the logic of what he said.

You laid out one of the blankets and then looked over your shoulder to see him murmuring softly to the horse.

You unlaced and slid your feet out of your boots, grateful they had protected your thick socks enough that they were still dry, then shucked off your wet trousers.

You laid them beside your cloak in an attempt to allow them to dry before you laid on top of the blanket and pulled the second blanket firmly over you to protect your modesty.

“This storm will surely delay us. Hopefully it passes during the night,” Aemond said.

“What will happen to me when we arrive at our destination?” you asked in a small voice.

He turned back and looked at you in concern.

“Do you imagine I would drag you to some horrific fate?” he said, replying to your question with another question.

You turned over so your back was facing him, partially to give him privacy to undress and partially to avoid his gaze as you spoke.

“I… I do not know you as I once did,” you murmured.

“Hm,” he hummed in discontent as he laid beside you.

“Though we grew apart, I would never wish you ill,” he said finally.

“Grew apart?” you scoffed.

He sighed.

“Your former betrothed had already sworn himself to my sister. The plan is to end your prior engagement and wed you to an ally of my brother. That way your father’s arm is twisted into remaining our ally rather than switching sides in this impending war,” he said.

The silence after he spoke felt heavy. The only sounds were the pouring rain as it beat against your small hiding place and your heartbeat as it pounded.

Finally you spoke slowly, “I was right before. This truly is the worst kidnapping I’ve ever been a part of.”

A huff of hair fell past his lips, it almost sounded like a laugh.

“It was Aegon’s plan and nothing I attempted to counsel could dissuade him,” he said.

“My father will be furious,” you said, your voice shaky as shivers wracked your body. Even under the blanket, the cold felt inescapable.

“Less so if you are agreeable to your new betrothed,” he murmured.

You suddenly felt the heat of him against your back and squeaked in surprise as he wrapped a strong arm around your waist and pulled you against him.

“Hush. I cannot possibly sleep with your teeth clattering so loudly as you shiver,” he said haughtily.

You were stiff for a moment but too quickly felt yourself relax and melt into his body and the warmth he provided.

You could not even be angry with him, for you were far too comfortable.

“Who is to be my new betrothed?” you asked quietly, after a few moments of silence.

You waited for his response.

Finally he said, “I do not know.”

You weren’t quite certain if you believed him, but exhaustion weighed heavy upon you and wrapped in his warmth you were swiftly pulled into unconsciousness.

_______________

You were floating, for now, though you began to fear as water rose and rose around you. Then you were flailing as a hand wrapped around your ankle and attempted to pull you down.

You fought your hardest, but you were powerless against the strength of that hand.

You ran out of air and attempted to breathe, but choked on salty water, and attempted to scream but no sounds came out.

You were being pulled into inky depths until fire surrounded you, turning the water into mist and you could breathe, you could breathe in deep as hot dry air that filled your lungs.

The fire twirled, danced around you and burned the hand that attempted to drown you.

You were free, and as you sobbed in relief, the fire licked at your cheek, never burning - never hurting, and dried the tears on your cheeks.

A voice murmured your name, and so you reached a hand for that voice, up and away from the dark murky water.

“We need to go,” Aemond said, his voice urgent as he shook your shoulder.

You groaned and attempted to pull the blanket over your head, but it was tugged from your grip.

You opened one eye and found the object of your ire as he knelt beside you, staring at you with one eyebrow up, judgment clear on his face.

“You really are a horribly deep sleeper, it is near impossible to wake you, it is no wonder you were so easily captured,” he mused then stood and pulled the blanket completely off you.

“Asshole” you seethed as you yanked down your shirt where it had rucked up enough to show your underclothes.

He winked at you as he turned around to give you the privacy to redress. You clenched your teeth in anger as you held back your retort.

You groaned internally as you realized it was still raining. It was certainly no longer storming as it had been only hours before, if your level of exhaustion was any indication, but it still rained rather heavily.

You were in for what would certainly be another miserable day if your pounding head and Aemond’s chipper attitude were any indication.

You swiftly pulled on your pants, boots, and cloak and trudged back into the rain.

_______________

The rain slowed and stopped sometime early in the morning.

The conversation between you and Aemond did the same after one too many snippy comments from you. And also him. The tension was rather strong.

It had been so long that there was anger and hurt feelings between the two of you that you hardly remembered the love and friendship that was once there.

No, that was a lie. It haunted you. There was a reason you had been unable to stand his presence for years without nearly biting his head off.

When you were children he had been your best friend, your childhood crush, your biggest ally and confidant. Until all of that love turned into hurt feelings and resentment.

You had entirely too much time this morning to ruminate on the past, and the thought occurred to you that maybe you should discuss it with him and attempt to put it behind you.

You turned and looked back at him.

It frustrated you endlessly that a part of you that you had attempted to squash for years was attracted to him.

It was not lost on you that the boy you grew up with had become a dashing, lethal warrior.

With his sharp cheekbones and jawline and curved lips that were entirely too distracting…

“Why are you staring at me?” he asked dryly.

You huffed and turned back around.

This adventure had, to your utter dismay, softened your feelings towards the man who sat behind you, pressed against you, his long silver hair blowing around the two of you in the wind.

“Nothing,” you muttered.

You knew if you looked back you would see a smirk on his perfect lips and it ignited your anger once again.

You let silence fall and couldn’t find the courage within you to share your thoughts and feelings.

_______________

“Do you plan to stop any time today?” you complained.

“Surely you- shit,” he cut himself off and cursed as he snapped the reins and urged the horse to speed from a walk into a gallop.

He yanked his hood over his head.

“What is it?” you asked as you craned your head to see around his body.

“Shit,” you echoed him.

A group of about ten men on horses had rounded the hidden curve of the path behind the two of you.

“Do you think those are the suspicious assholes from before?” you asked worriedly.

Aemond pursed his lips into a thin line as he nodded stiffly.

“We can’t outrun them, not with two people on one horse,” he said.

“D-do we fight? I can’t fight. Oh my gods, Aemond you’re ruining my life. I should be married to a boring old man right now, not running for my life with my worst enemy-”

“Quiet, we are not going to fight, you ridiculous woman. We are going to act normal and do our best to talk our way out of this situation,” he said calmly as the men sped their horses and closed in on the two of you.

One man, the same man who didn’t stop staring at you the last time you saw him, led his horse directly in your path, causing Aemond to yank the reins of his horse.

The horse skidded to a stop abruptly and you gripped Aemond’s hand as your heart began to gallop in fear.

“Well hello again,” the man said with an all too knowing smile.

You gulped.

“Hello there, what a pleasant surprise to see you again,” Aemond replied.

The men chuckled darkly and you shivered.

Aemond placed a hand on your thigh and stroked his thumb back and forth in an effort to reassure you.

“It certainly is a truly pleasant surprise,” one of the men practically purred.

“Well, perhaps we can schedule a third meeting, but otherwise my wife and I have to get going,” Aemond said.

“Your wife, huh? I mentioned she looked familiar, didn’t I?”

“Hm,” Aemond hummed noncommittally.

You began to feel queasy and perhaps slightly lightheaded.

“Well, now there’s a ransom out for a runaway bride. The description matches your wife exactly.”

Your breaths became shallow as the men leered at you.

Aemond chuckled in a way that made him appear completely unconcerned.

“I am sorry to inform you that my wife and I have been married for years, so you must be mistaken,” he replied.

“Really? Because I think we would’ve heard if a Targaryen got married. Isn’t that right, Prince Aemond?,” the dark haired man said.

Your heart dropped into your stomach.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

You wish you were better at this.

Say something. Say anything, you screamed at yourself.

You were frozen, you were frozen, and you clung to Aemond’s hand as your only lifeline in your fear.

Good gods, you were tired of being afraid. It wasn’t just the cold terror you were experiencing. No, dread and fear had been a part of your life ever since Aemond had walked out of it when you were young. You feared rejection, your duties in life, your future.

So you made a decision right then and there, with tears pooling in your eyes, that you would never be afraid again.

You would fight, you would become a fighter, a warrior, whatever it took. Starting here and now.

“What do you want from us?” you asked sharply.

The men laughed once again and instead of fear slicing through you, it was anger.

“Well we would like a payday, pretty lady,” one of the men from the back said and they all gave you predators smiles.

“And I would like to go one day without a man being an absolute prick,” you snapped back.

The men’s faces hardened.

“Perhaps we could come to some sort of arrangement,” Aemond said and he gripped your waist.

“How about we capture you and sell you for ransom?” the man teased back.

“Not fucking again,” you said with gritted teeth.

You reached behind you and slowly pulled Aemond’s dagger out of the sheath at his waist.

His fingers brushed yours, but he didn’t stop you.

You weren’t certain what his plan contained, surely he had one, but you were sick of waiting.

Particularly after the men laughed in a way that made your skin crawl.

“She’s got a mouth on her. I like that,” one of the men said.

The knife flew from your hand and buried itself in the chest of the man blocking the path.

“Shit,” Aemond hissed as he snapped the reins and the horse launched herself forward.

The man slid off his horse with a thud, the horse neighed loudly in a panic and rose on its hind legs but you, Aemond, and your horse were already passing by.

The other men stared in shock which gave your horse enough time to get past the group of harassers.

Then the shouting began.

Aemond pulled out his sword as he shouted, “Take the reins!”

You did as he ordered and snapped them once more, the horse was now galloping at top speed.

You knew it wouldn’t be enough.

There was a clearing in the trees up ahead and as you saw a large shadow over it you looked back at Aemond, eyes widened in a silent question.

He nodded and you threw up a prayer to any gods listening that the two of you would make it.

His sword clashed with a man who caught up to the two of you.

You yanked another knife out of the saddle bag and turned just in time to see another man catching up with his sword out and pointing at you.

You aimed and let the dagger fly from your hand and watched it reach its mark directly between the attacker’s eyes.

You gasped a sigh of relief at the same time Aemond gutted the other man.

The clearing in the trees was closer.

“Do you have any more daggers?” you asked.

“No,” he said through gritted teeth as he engaged in another sword fight.

The wind tore at you as the horse raced at a breakneck speed.

Finally, just as the other men were nearly caught up and Aemond felled another foe, you reached the break in the trees and your horse sprinted through the clearing. As soon as you were clear, Vhagar appeared to fall from the sky with an ear shattering roar as she landed between you and your pursuers, crushing a few of them.

The ground shook hard enough that your teeth clattered and you tightened your grip on your horse.

“Dracarys Vhagar!” Aemond yelled.

Her roar turned into flame hot enough to turn your tormentors into ashes and you gasped in relief, a few tears slipping from your eyes.

You led the horse to slow and stopped and stared at Vhagar with wide eyes, both fearful and in awe.

Aemond slid off the horse before he helped you as well.

“Are you alright?” Aemond asked worriedly as he pulled you into his arms.

You allowed yourself to sink into his embrace for a count of five before you pulled away and pointed a finger in his face.

“I’m not done fighting. I am incredibly angry with you,” you said strongly.

He blinked in surprise.

“For capturing you and getting you into this situation?” he asked cautiously.

“No,” you said with a dismissive wave of the hand, “I’m over that. I think my actions have shown that.”

He raised his eyebrow at you, his only show of confusion.

“I’m angry at you for abandoning me,” you said heatedly as your breathing quickened and your eyes stung with tears.

“What?” he asked, his tone suddenly flat.

“You decided that obtaining a dragon meant you no longer had to concern yourself with the likes of those below you. And that is fuc-”

“That’s your version of the story?” he chuckled spitefully.

He leaned down so his gorgeous face was closer to yours.

“High talk for someone who was disgusted at being associated with a cripple,” he said, his lip curled in anger and his teeth clenched.

“What?” it was your turn to ask.

“Don’t lie to me,” he said, his anger becoming something vicious.

“I wouldn’t. I would never-”

“Aegon told me! He heard you talking to one of the other noble children and-”

“He lied! Your brother is a lying piece of shit!”

You were both breathing heavily, your faces merely inches apart.

“I…. He lied?” he asked.

“Yes, you asshole,” you seethed.

He licked his lips as he stared at you thoughtfully, the anger deflating from his face.

“I would never drop you just because I got a dragon, you were my closest and most cherished friend,” he said.

“And you were mine,” you admitted. “That’s why I was so angry and rude to you… which I regret.”

“I find myself full of feelings of regret as well. I was unaware of your side of the story,” he said softly.

“All that time wasted,” you said.

“Hm,” he hummed in agreement.

His face was still close to yours. There was a heat between the two of you that had not dissipated just because the anger was gone. Then you remembered your agreement with yourself.

You took a deep breath, “I don’t plan on wasting any more time. I’ve lived my life in fear for far too long. Fear of being rejected, fear of becoming too attached to anyone else, fear of fulfilling my duty, and fear of the consequences of not fulfilling it. Fear of my own feelings, my own wants. But not anymore. I’ll face whatever the future and duty expects of me but today….”

“Today?” he prompted as he glanced down at your lips, then met your gaze once more.

“Today I am going to act on my feelings and desires for once and face the consequences later.” you said as you placed a hand on his chest.

“And what are your desires?” he practically purred as he cupped your cheek with his hand.

“Kiss me,” you breathed out.

His lips pressed into yours, and it wasn’t a slow gentle kiss like you had always imagined your first kiss with Aemond to be, no it was fiery and all consuming. As his lips moved against yours you did what you had always wanted to do, and tangled your fingers in his silken white hair.

He groaned softly as you tightened your grip and he hauled you impossibly closer against the hard planes of his body.

At the brush of his tongue against yours, you whimpered with desire.

A shiver went all the way down your spine and your toes curled as he consumed you.

Vhagar roared and you pulled back from him with a laugh. His crooked smile melted your heart and he nudged his nose against yours and kissed you once more, softly and sweetly.

As he pulled back you grinned at him.

He didn’t release you from his embrace, which you were grateful for. But, he did take a deep breath as he stared deeply into your eyes.

“I must tell you that I was not completely honest with you before,” he said, his voice low and vulnerable.

“About what?” you asked carefully.

“I do know who my brother intends to betroth you to,” he replied.

You scrunched your eyebrows in confusion, wordlessly asking him to explain, even as you extricated yourself from his grasp and crossed your arms.

He pressed his lips together.

“You are to marry me,” he said finally.

“What?” you gasped.

To be continued....

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