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#now let’s hope I don’t total this one
katsu28 · 2 days
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summer's golden haze - chapter one
pairing: lando norris x reader
summary: a small town somewhere in beautiful greece, early morning coffee runs, and the cute boy that you keep running into. (4.8k)
warnings: sort of shy!reader, a bit of swearing, lando being both smooth and a little awkward
a/n: series masterlist coming soon :)
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“That guy is totally checking you out.” 
You reluctantly drag your attention away from the truly addicting pasta you’d ordered to meet your friend’s gaze across the table, slightly suspicious, but also a little curious as to what she’s talking about.
Samira is grinning knowingly at you already, mischievously, like she’s got a tasty bit of information you don’t know about. Probably not tastier than the food in front of you, but your interest is piqued nonetheless. 
“What guy?” You sigh, giving into your curiosity quite easily. She arches a perfectly sculpted brow at you, then tilts her head to the side discreetly, and you follow her gaze towards—
Oh. That guy. 
You saw him on your way to your seat at first, a group of four guys sitting a few tables away in the same patio area of the restaurant, drawing your attention even before you’d sat down. Artfully messy brown curls swept up out of his face, thick dark brows framing bright eyes crinkled with laughter at something his friend had said, you’d felt yourself growing conscious of the man’s existence with just one glance. 
And then his gaze had flicked to your friends passing his table, but more importantly, your own gaze, and you’d nearly stumbled on your own feet.
Your cheeks had grown hot at the intensity of his stare following your path to your seat, not to mention the embarrassment that had flooded your veins at the thought of nearly eating shit in front of this very attractive stranger. 
Had you grown the nerve to look back at him at the time, you would’ve seen his lips quirk into a goofy grin, as well as all the shoving he’d gotten from his friends as they’d caught wind of his unabashed staring. 
Now you’re almost done with your meal, and you could swear you’ve felt him looking at you plenty more times. Not that it mattered at all, because your eyes have been firmly glued to your food and your friends only. 
Okay, so you might’ve hastened a few covert glances over in his direction too, but he’s been chatting away to his friends every time, so maybe you’re just making nothing into something. 
“Don’t even try to hide it, you’ve been making eyes at him too, girl,” Your other friend, Maren, pipes up, elbowing you in the arm playfully. The last of your girls, Camille, nods her agreement, smiling gleefully. “He’s hot.”  
Right, so perhaps not as covert as you’d thought. 
“Dunno what you’re talking about,” You reply, spearing another piece of pasta through your fork. You’re kicked under the table at that moment, hard enough to warrant the whine that escapes your mouth. “What?” Now you're met with three pointed glares your way. “Okay, fine. Yeah, he’s cute.” 
“Go talk to him!” 
“Go flirt with him!” 
“Absolutely not!” You exclaim. Your voice comes out louder than you intend and you duck your head quickly, worried you’d disturbed the peace of the quiet area. “He’s probably got a girlfriend already or something.” 
“If he does, she better dump his ass because he's been giving you fuck me eyes all damn night.” 
“No, he has not,” You hiss, which only gets you yet another look from them. You’re starting to get tired of all these looks, actually. “Has he? I mean—are they? Fuck me eyes?” 
“Oh yeah, he—” 
Camille clears her throat, cutting Samira off. “No, they’re not,” She assures you, placing a hand over yours. “He’s been smiling every time he looks over.”
“Maybe he’s looking at one of you guys?” 
“He’s definitely been looking at you.” 
You bite your lip, nose scrunching skeptically. You haven’t really been the subject of any guy’s attention before, let alone one as handsome as this one. You’ve learned it’s better not to get your hopes up when it comes to certain situations. This seems like one of them. “Are you sure?” 
“If I’m wrong, I’ll give you back your share of the villa rental.” 
“Can I get that in writing, or…?” 
Before any of them can come up with a smart remark, a plate is placed into the center of the table, on which is a large square of baklava, light and flaky with that sweet, sugary filling spilling out the sides of the piece that almost makes your mouth water. You’d seen it in the dessert section of the menu earlier, but had decided against ordering it in favor of trying an appetizer instead. 
“Oh, excuse me? We didn’t order this,” Maren speaks up, looking up at the waiter. 
He does a half turn, sweeping an arm in a vague direction. “It is from the gentleman in the blue shirt.” 
You follow his gaze, and fuck, your heart skips a beat in your chest, because it’s him. It’s the same guy you’ve been drawn to all night, and he’s actually looking right back at you this time. His hand comes up in a wave, then back down to his side almost immediately, like he’s worried about it seeming too eager, before settling with a reserved nod. All the while, he’s still got that smile gracing his face that makes your stomach flip flop. 
“He sent over a dessert?!?! I am so keeping that money, girl,” Camille hums, picking up her fork to dig in while Samira and Maren voice their agreement. 
You, on the other hand, well…you’re not sure what to think. You appreciate the gesture, but you're also confused. Why did he send something over? What did he want? 
It doesn't occur to you that he’s truly taken an interest in you until you're huddled outside with your friends talking next steps of the night. Whether you want to keep exploring this new place, or call it a day and go home. You’re firmly on the latter’s side because you're tired. But you’ll go along with whatever is decided. 
The guy and his friends have coincidentally left the restaurant at the same time as you did, judging by the sudden commotion that erupts behind you. Like a moth drawn to a flame, your gaze lands on him yet again, only this time, you actually lock eyes with him. Something jolts through you, something electric up your spine like a tiny shock. Something you’ve never felt before. You shove the foreign feeling deep down, no matter how much you’d like to explore it. 
He looks away, teeth sunk into his bottom lip to quell the grin tugging at the corners of his mouth, and you avert your wandering eyes too, before anyone else notices. Evidently you’re a little too slow, because all three of your friends catch on instantly. 
“Go talk to him already.” Camille says matter-of-factly. 
“No, I—what do I even say?” 
“Maybe hello would be a good start?” 
You press your lips together, unimpressed, and you get a snicker in return, something about how you're not asking for his hand in marriage, you’re just trying to make conversation. It’s not that you don’t want to talk to him, it’s that you’re not exactly sure how to approach it. You’ve already convinced yourself of the worst, but to possibly have it play out in real life is a tangible fear of yours, and always has been. 
One of your girls (you’re willing to bet more money it’s Maren) gives you a not so gentle shove towards him, as does one of his friends over in his group. Now you’ve got no choice. You meet each other in the middle, just looking at each other for a few moments. It’s awkward and you have half a mind to turn and go, but then he speaks. 
“Hey,” He says. 
“Hi,” You reply shyly, shifting on your feet nervously. He shoves both hands into his pockets. He looks a bit nervous too, which does a significant wonder to calm you. “Thank you for the baklava. It was delicious.” 
“Yeah, of course. Glad you guys liked it. Figured you can’t go wrong with a classic.” He bobs his head, shoulders creeping up towards his ears in a shrug before dropping back down. “I’m Lando, by the way.” 
Lando. It’s not a name you’re expecting, but it suits him well. 
He sticks his hand out almost instinctively, like he’s been conditioned to do so. Maybe he has, considering the aura of professionality it gives off when you do shake his hand. 
His palm is smooth and warm against yours, long fingers curling around your hand like the sincere smile that curls his lips as you tell him your name in return. Dimples bracket his mouth on both sides. 
The handshake almost lasts a little too long for two people who’ve just met literally a few moments ago, as does the way his eyes linger upon yours. 
Even in the dark of the night, illuminated only by the warm glow of the lamps above you, you can see him much better up close. His sunkissed skin does little to hide the flushed pink on his cheeks that travels down to his chest, disappearing under the generously unbuttoned blue linen. You feel exposed under his intense gaze, looking back at those mesmerizing eyes. Blue, green, gray—maybe a mix of all three, you’re not sure, but you can’t help but want to figure it out. 
Then you remember that you don’t know this guy at all, and it brings you back to reality. 
“Lando, like…the guy from Star Wars?” You ask. It breaks the invisible tether between the two of you and he smiles, laughs a little bit too. 
He shrugs casually. “Not according to my mum and dad, but I do get that a lot.” 
“You must get tired of hearing it from people then.”
His head tilts to one side, smile going endearingly lopsided. “Depends on the person. Like, I didn’t mind when you said it just now.” You’re not sure how to respond to that, so you just smile, and he takes your reaction in stride, moving on. “Are you guys from around here, or…” 
“No, actually, we’re—um, we’re just here on holiday.”
“Oh, same! Yeah, we’ve been here a few days now, it’s been great. Is this your first time in Greece?” He asks, smile turning warm. You nod. “Have you checked out the local market yet?”
“Can’t say we have yet, no. We just got in the day before last, so…still figuring out our footing first. But I’ll keep it in mind, thank you!” 
Lando inhales sharply, rubbing at the back of his neck. “Hey, y’know, if you want, maybe we could—” 
“Oi, Lando! Let’s go, mate!” 
He glances back over at his friends, one of whom is waving for him to return to his group rather wildly, before turning back to you. Whatever he was about to say is lost now, because he shrugs loosely. “Guess that’s my cue,” He sighs. Then his gaze softens, smile turning a little hopeful. “Will I see you around again? Small town and all.” 
“Uh…I dunno. Maybe, if it’s meant to be.” You have to try with all your might not to take the statement back, even though you really, really want to. 
If it’s meant to be—who the fuck says that? Like fate has anything to do with this miraculous interest Lando seems to have taken in you. If you were him, you’d find your words quite off putting. Instead, he smirks, crooked and cute. 
“Meant to be,” He repeats, eyes twinkling with amusement. “Yeah alright, I’ll take my chances. Have a good night.” 
You bid him a soft goodnight, barely able to stifle the giggle that spills from your mouth when he nearly trips over the cobblestones on his way back to his friends. He’s awkward, you think, but still confident. It’s cute. 
Lando stays rooted in your mind the rest of the night, all the way up until you’re lying in bed, waiting for sleep to take hold of you. It’s weird to think this much about a guy you’ve just met, a guy who you’ve only had one conversation with and have left things up to chance in terms of seeing him again. 
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You’re the first one awake this morning, roused from your sleep by bright sunlight pouring through the window, even through the curtains. Contemplation of going back to sleep crosses your mind, but it’s no use. You’re up now, so you might as well make the most of your early morning. 
You love your friends dearly, but some alone time sounds like heaven right about now. There’s a coffee spot not far from where you’re staying that you remember seeing on your way in that seems like a perfect match to your solo walk, so you head there. You’ll be a nice friend and bring coffee home for when they eventually wake up too. 
After dropping them a text letting them know you’ve gone out, you set off. The walk back into town is short but serene, a welcome change from the hustle and bustle of your daily lives, and a reminder of why you’d all decided to vacation in this particular region of Greece in the first place. 
Someone calls out something that sounds like your name before you can step into the shop and you pause, casting a glance around to see if your ears might be playing tricks on you. You’ve only been here a few days, and the only other person who knows you other than your friends is…Lando. 
You squint a little harder to see through the glare of the sun, and lo and behold, there he is, hands linked behind his head. The grin that lifts your face is almost embarrassing, or would’ve been had Lando not been so eager upon seeing you wave at him. 
He’s clad in athletic shorts and a cutoff tee that shows off muscles you’re trying your very hardest not to stare at as he makes his way closer, curls tucked away in a baseball cap pulled low on his head. Headphones dangle from around his neck, and he’s panting, chest rising and falling heavily very clearly once he’s stopped in front of you. 
“Hey, good morning! I thought that was you,” He breathes, attempting to catch his breath. “Early riser too, I take it?” 
“Honestly, not usually! The sun decided I would be today, though, so…here I am.” 
“Here you are. Guess it was meant to be then, huh?” He chuckles, reaching up to flip his cap backwards. If you thought he was tan the night you met, he’s even tanner in the sun, bronze skin stretching over sinewy muscle that flexes as he sweeps a hand through his hair before tugging it back down in one smooth motion. “Doing a coffee run?” 
“Yeah, I’m the only one of us awake at this hour so I figured I’d bring them back a little something.” 
“You’re a saint. I’d let my mates suffer if it were me,” Lando snorts. 
You shrug. “Guess that’s the difference between the two of us.” 
“Yeah?” He hums, looking amused. “What else is different between you and me?” 
“Well, first of all, I would never be on a run at eight in the morning. Is someone punishing you, or is this a self-inflicted torture type thing?” 
That gets another laugh out of him, shoulders shaking with mirth. “Gotta keep in shape or my trainer might try to kill me with workouts instead.” 
“You’re an athlete?” You pry, intrigued. He looks the part, you think. Lean but not skinny, strong but not massively built. A runner, maybe? 
Lando freezes a split second, rocks from foot to foot, scratching at his nose. “Kind of, yeah.” 
“What’s your sport?” 
“Uh…golf. It’s more like a hobby than anything else.” 
“Golf,” You repeat, an amused smile poking at the edges of your mouth. “Can’t say I know a thing about it.” 
“Oh, it’s definitely something else, for sure. Super intense stuff, really grueling.” His words say one thing, but he’s grinning like he’s pulling your leg, lip pulled between his teeth in that same way as last night, nose scrunching adorably as he bobs his head quickly to further sell it. 
“Sure, if you say so. But d’you think your trainer would get mad if you cut your super intense training short to grab a cup of coffee with a friend?” 
You’re almost expecting him to say no, but Lando perks up instead, eyes crinkling happily at the corners. “Not at all. Shall we?” 
Over coffee, you find that Lando is an excellent conversationalist—funny and a good listener, an even better storyteller. He asks about you without seeming pushy or prying, and because of that you feel yourself relaxing a bit in his presence. Opening yourself up to the possibility of a good thing with him, no matter how short or fleeting it may be, whether it’s friendship or something more. 
A few weeks of summer in a place you've never been with a boy you don’t know is the time to be a little bolder. Chances are you’ll never see Lando again after this trip, so why not loosen up just a little bit? 
It’s only when more people start to trickle into the shop and you start to notice Lando’s eyes shifting over your shoulder more that you realize you’ve been here with him for a while now. And judging by the dozens of missed calls and texts from all three of your friends on your phone when you go to check it for the first time since you’d left, you’ve been gone a lot longer than you said you’d be. 
You know them well enough to know that they’re not above calling the local police to send out a search party for you if you don’t find your way back soon. 
“Friends wondering where you are?” 
You nod, sending a quick message that you are indeed alive and not kidnapped like they feared, before tucking your phone away again. “Guess I better get them their coffees for sure now, or else they might not let me back in the house.” 
“Lemme buy it for them,” He offers sincerely, offering you a lopsided grin. You shake your head rapidly at the suggestion, but he continues, “I’m the reason you’ve been gone so long, the least I can do is buy them drinks. Call it an apology for making them worry, yeah?” 
“You really don’t have to, Lando.” 
“I know. I want to,” He insists, looking truly genuine. First dessert last night, now coffee today. You have half a mind to push back a little more, but you get the feeling Lando is as persistent as he is handsome, so you taking a firm stance on something like this seems like a moot point. Giving in, you nod, and he mirrors it, looking proud. 
He lets you take the lead in reciting your friends’ orders once you’ve made your way back over to the front counter, stepping forward with a hand to the small of your back to pay for the drinks before you have any bright ideas to pull one over on him and pay for them yourself. 
The barista smiles politely, pen hovering above a cardboard cup. “And a name for that?” 
Lando casts a furtive glance around the area before leaning in and saying his name quietly, as if he’s worried he’ll run into someone who he doesn’t want to see. You notice, but don’t really pay it any mind. You understand far too well not wanting to talk to someone you're unprepared for. 
Soon enough Lando’s got the drinks in hand and you’re back outside, and he’s smiling again. You’ve noticed he does that a lot when he looks at you. You’re sure you’re the same way with him. 
“My mates and I, we’re planning on having a little barbeque at our villa tomorrow night. You should come,” Lando says encouragingly, tilting his head to the side. When your brows raise in surprise, he hastily adds, “And your friends too, obviously. We’d love the company.” 
“Ah! Um, I dunno. Wouldn’t wanna crash your thing.” 
“You wouldn't be. Seriously, come hang out. We’re fun, I promise!” 
“I just—I forget if we’ve got plans, that’s all.” You’re not lying when you say it, you truly forget if you’re free tomorrow night. Most of it stems from your awful memory, but a small part of it attributes to how your brain kind of stops working properly around Lando. 
“Right, well, you figure that out, and if you find you’ve got a free evening,” He balances the drinks deftly in one hand, the other fishing his phone out of his shorts pocket and swiping at the screen briefly before holding it out to you, “text me, let me know.” 
You’re not sure where you find the boldness to tap your phone number into his contacts, but you do it with confidence, saving it under your name and a smiley face. 
“Cute.” Lando smirks, chuckling as he sends a simple hi so you've got his number too. “Now, I believe these are yours, and…maybe I’ll see you tomorrow? If it’s meant to be.” 
You smile at the mirroring of last night’s words from him as you situate the cardboard tray in your own arms. “Maybe.” 
The smile hasn’t left your face even by the time you arrive back home, because you’ve been thinking about Lando the whole way. For a stranger you’ve met only yesterday, he’s sure been occupying a lot of space in your mind. You aren’t entirely sure how to feel about it. 
You’re already prepared for the berating you’re about to get as you close the front door behind you carefully, making your way to the kitchen.
“Where the hell have you been?” 
You look up to see all three of your friends sitting around the kitchen table, and none of them look particularly happy. You smile innocently, holding up the cardboard tray of drinks up as a peace offering. “Coffee?” 
“It better come with an explanation.” 
Nodding vigorously, you dole out each drink to your friends. “It does, I swear. I didn’t just disappear, I ran into—” 
“Hold the fuck on. Why does this say Lando? Why is that man’s name on my cup—” 
“Oh my god, you did not get coffee with him without telling us!” 
“You bitch!” 
That’s how you end up telling them the whole story—running into him in town, talking for ages, and that brings you to your next point. 
“We don’t have any plans for tomorrow night, do we?” 
“There’s the vineyard tour in the afternoon, but that should end around five. Why?” 
“Lando invited us to a barbecue at his villa,” You say quickly. That gets their attention immediately, all of their eyes widening in the same shocked looks. None of them answer your question though. “Is that…something we’d be interested in?” 
Samira is the first to snap out of it, mouth curving into a playful smirk. “Invited us, or invited you?” 
“Definitely just her.” 
“Whatever! Do we wanna go or not?” You grumble, doing your best to fight the grin threatening to overtake your face. The thought of him wanting to spend time with you brings you a teensy bit of satisfaction. 
“Of course we’re going!” 
After they’re done poking fun at you, you’re able to take a moment to top out a quick message to Lando. That barbecue invite still up for grabs? 
You're not expecting an immediate answer, but your phone dings with a text back before you even set it down. 
Lando: Of course. Plans fell through? 
You: seems like you’ve really made an impression on my friends 
Lando: Not sure whether to be scared or flattered…
You: your guess is as good as mine! we’ll find out tomorrow :)
Lando: Brb gotta go call my lawyer and update my will 
“You’re texting him right now, aren’t you?” 
You look up from your phone to see Camille leaning in the doorway to your room, a soft, knowing smile on her face. “Yeah, he—uh, he says he’s looking forward to meeting you guys again.” She comes to sit beside you, looking like she wants to talk about something. You set it aside, head tilting in a silent question. 
“Do you think you’ll stay in contact with Lando after we leave?” 
“I’m not sure. Haven’t really thought about it all that much, to be honest.”
If you do think about it, you haven’t even known Lando for more than a day. You’ve only just met him yesterday, seen him twice, one of which was completely spur of the moment. So what if that spur of the moment encounter was the most connected you’ve felt to someone in a long time? 
You don’t know him, and chances are, he’s not looking for anything serious. You don’t even know if you’re looking for anything serious. 
“It’s okay if you want to.” 
“I shouldn’t want to,” You say. It feels like you’re trying to convince yourself more than anything. You look to Camille for an answer, but she just pats your hand. “Right? I’m never gonna see him again, so I shouldn’t get attached.” 
“You don’t know that for sure, do you?” 
“I guess not. It feels scary, though. Opening yourself up to something when you don't know what’ll happen.” 
Camille hums, a placating, even comforting sound to soothe your worries. She’s always been pretty good at getting you to see the brighter side in things. “There’s fun in that too. Being spontaneous, surprising yourself. You never know, Lando could be just the thing you need, the one you didn’t know you were looking for. And if not, you don’t have to see him again. A win-win, I’d say.” 
She leaves you alone to your thoughts after that, left to ponder what exactly it is you want. It might be stupid and entirely over-optimistic of you, but Lando has already pulled you in. You’re not sure what it is about him. He makes you want more, want to know more. 
Whatever happens will happen, and if things don’t work out…well, Camille is right. You never have to see Lando again. 
His name flashes across your screen later in the night, right before you’re about to go to sleep. You’ve been texting back and forth all day, but this one is different. He’s video calling you right now. 
You stare at his name for longer than you should, finger hovering over the answer button a few beats before pressing it. His face pops into view once the call connects. Like you, he’s sitting in bed, leaned up against the headboard, cozied up in a soft looking jumper. He looks like he’s moments away from drifting off, but he called you, so he must want to talk. 
“Hi,” You say softly. 
“Hey, you.” He smiles, warm and sleepy and all squinty in a way that makes you want to crawl through the screen and tuck him into bed with a kiss to his forehead. “You must be tired.” 
“Eh, I’m alright. Why?” 
“‘Cause you’ve been running through my mind all day.” 
You let out a wildly unappealing snort of laughter at his poor attempt at a pick up line. “That’s terrible! Oh my god, that was awful, Lando, seriously.” 
“No?” His smile grows giddy, shoulders shaking with his chuckles. “Yeah, it was pretty bad, wasn’t it? Got you laughing though.” 
Conversation falls into the same easy nature as this morning, like you’ve known him for ages. He makes you laugh until your ribs hurt, smile until your cheeks feel the same. It still amazes you just how comfortable you feel around him, as someone who usually takes a while to warm up to people. 
Maybe you should take it as a sign. 
A jumble of muffle voices offscreen some time later makes Lando squint. “Hang on, I’ll be right back. Don’t hang up. ” He lets the phone drop onto the bed, checking once to make sure you’re still there before disappearing from sight. 
You hear his footsteps fade, then more voices you can’t quite make out. Someone laughs off in the distance, and then he’s back, resituating himself with the remnants of an amused grin on his lips. 
“Everything okay?” 
“My mates are yelling at me to turn off the light, so I’d better go,” He sighs goodnaturedly, lips turning down into a frown. Then he yawns widely, and you realize how late it’s gotten since you’ve picked up his call. Losing track of time when you’re talking to Lando seems to be a recurring theme. “I’m glad you’re coming tomorrow.” 
Your breath catches a little in your chest, both at his words and the way he’s looking at you through the screen as he says it, nothing but genuine. “Me too.” 
You’re starting to think this whole try not to get attached thing is going to be much harder than you thought. 
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hgfictionwriter · 1 day
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Discovery - Part Three
Jessie Fleming x Reader
Summary: Jessie spends the night for the first time and things come to a head. She's trying desperately to not hurt you, but instead, it's all she seems to be doing.
Warnings: G!P content. Masturbation (J). Body image issues or even dysphoria; mental and emotional anxiety; internal conflicts. Angst. Reluctant gaslighting??
A/N: Chapters one and two.
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“Are you sure you have everything you need?”
Jessie smiled as she stood at the end of the couch, freshly changed into her pyjamas. You stood across from her, casually leaning against the doorframe to your bedroom. You wore your sleepwear as well, a baggy t-shirt and some shorts which she found incredibly cute. She tried to not let her eyes linger too long on your toned legs.
“I’m totally fine. You’ve set up quite the digs for me here,” she said as she gestured to the pillows and blankets.
“Okay,” you said with a small laugh. “And I set aside a couple of towels for you in the bathroom in case you want to shower when you wake up.”
“Awesome. Thank you. I tend to get up pretty early. I’ll try not to wake you up.” You waved her off.
“Don’t worry about it. I may not be up quite as early as you, but you know I’m a morning person myself.” You paused. “Okay, well, I hope you have a good sleep. I’ll see you in the morning. And if you need or want anything, just help yourself.”
“Will do. Thanks, babe,” Jessie said as she gave you a soft kiss. She sensed how you both wanted it to linger, but she forced herself to pull away. She smiled. “Good night.”
“Good night. And,” you shrugged trying to put on an air of nonchalance, “thanks for spending the night.”
Jessie chuckled and brought a hand to the back of her head. “Well, I know me biking home at ungodly hours of the night has been stressing you out the past few weeks, so, you know. Happy to finally put your mind at ease.”
She gave you another quick kiss and you retreated to your bedroom. She stared at the closed door for a few seconds before releasing a tight breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. She settled into the couch, turning off the light and getting under the blankets.
She sighed contently and stared up at the ceiling. She could hear soft noises coming through the wall as you settled into bed as well.
The weeks had passed and Jessie was really happy with how your relationship had grown. Emotionally, things were even stronger - there was no question of that. Though she had to cast aside guilt every time you mentioned how close you felt to her.
That aside, simple acts of affection, like a kiss, were easier and more commonplace for you both now. And you even made out regularly, but they were always short and fleeting sessions. Jessie had been working very hard to desensitize herself and had even started wearing different clothes in hopes of better concealing a rogue erection. Still, it wasn’t a solution.
You were patient with her, but she could see your frustration building. And God, she understood, she was frustrated too.
It was inevitable that she’d need to spend the night at some point. You’d been dating for a few months and though her travel and schedule bought her time, she was running out of excuses as to why she couldn’t stay. Questions were starting to mount from your friends as well and though you laughed it off as you retold the stories to Jessie, she could see it weighed on you.
As for tonight, you told her she didn’t need to sleep on the couch, but didn’t push it at all.
Jessie was used to sleeping pretty much anywhere and everywhere, so she slept soundly through the night. When she woke, the first rays of light were just starting to break through. She blinked a few times, slowly coming to. She shifted slightly before freezing in place.
“Shit,” she mouthed as she lifted the covers and glanced down in a panic, only to confirm that her cock was jutting up and pulling her sweats tight.
She dropped the covers and looked up at the ceiling with an inaudible huff, her irritation with herself immediate.
It wasn’t entirely uncommon for her to wake up like this, and in recent years, it didn’t really matter. But laying here in your living room, sporting a raging hard on that would serve as a devastating discovery, it filled her mind with flashbacks to panicked mornings at sleepovers she tried desperately to avoid in high school.
She closed her eyes and worked to relax. There were two ways of resolving this and one was not an option right now.
She lay there for a few minutes and frowned in frustration. Normally, if she just relaxed or went about her morning routine it would just go away. She huffed under her breath and picked up her phone to start scrolling to try to distract herself.
Every time she thought of something else and was close to settling down, her mind insisted on shifting back to you and she'd remain at full attention. She rubbed her face in agitation.
"Come on," she coached herself.
The friction of the fabric being pulled taut against her as she fidgeted made matters worse. When her toes began to curl and her fists began to clench and unclench she shook out her head.
She stared at the bathroom door.
She shouldn't. She really, really shouldn't.
She checked the time. You normally woke up around this time. She couldn't just be laying out here, cock standing up defiantly, when you came out. Sure, the blanket might be able to conceal it to some degree, but...then what.
A heavy exhale escaped her lips. She couldn't believe she was doing this. She threw off the blanket and walked as swiftly and quietly to the bathroom as she could, closing the door gingerly behind her so as not to wake you. She checked the lock before turning on the shower and getting undressed.
It was a relief when she took off her boxer briefs and her cock sprang up. She stepped into the shower and wasted little time before dealing with her nuisance.
At home, it didn't take much for her to cum. She could drag it out if she wanted to, but if she was in a time crunch, that wasn't a problem. Right now? The minutes passed as she stood under the warm water and grit her teeth as she tried to find some release. She leaned a hand out against the shower wall and closed her eyes again as she pictured you - what your touch would feel like, how you'd feel gripping her, how you'd sound, how you'd look beneath her or riding her cock.
Fuck, she should be cumming, but she was too in her head.
"Jess - what do you-"
"What!" Jessie bellowed, her eyes flying open as she recoiled from the wall. Her chest heaved, breaths shallow and her heartbeat deafening in her ears as she stared in panic at the inside of the shower curtain before taking a tentative step and peering around it. The bathroom was empty.
Her lips were parted as she tried to catch her breath. She could've swore you were inside. She could see from here the door was still locked.
"Sorry," you said through the door, tone undecipherable. "I'll just talk to you after."
She cleared her throat, staring helplessly at the back of the door.
"Sorry! I-I was just surprised. What's going on?"
Silence.
Well. That was one way to deal with her arousal. There was nothing to worry about now.
Jessie dried herself off as quickly as possible and got changed. The pit in her stomach was heavier than ever as she recited different apologies or explanations in her head.
She yelled at you. She couldn't believe it. She didn't yell at people like that - especially not people she cared about. Loved. She grit her teeth together almost painfully.
This secret was twisting who she was and how she was showing up for you.
Her hand on the door knob, she took a deep, steadying breath before twisting it and stepping out. It only took a second to see you sitting quietly at the dining table with a book in hand. You didn't look at her right away and her stomach dropped.
"Hey," Jessie said gently as she approached. She tried to not be tentative, she didn't want to exacerbate what happened, but she couldn't help herself. "Good morning." She forced a smile onto her face.
"Hi," you said. Though a hint of a smile remained on your face, the open smile you started with dissipated as quickly as it formed. Your gaze fell briefly before you refocused on her. You smiled again, nervously this time as you gestured vaguely towards the bathroom. "Um, sorry about that. I didn't mean to-"
"Oh no," Jessie interjected, dismissing your apology with a wave of her hands. "I'm sorry. I-I was just surprised. It didn't mean anything though."
"Oh. It's okay," you shrugged, dropping eye contact. "I shouldn't have bothered you. I could've just waited."
"No," Jessie countered with a frown. "I shouldn't have reacted like that."
You chuckled lightly, a faint, perhaps rueful smirk forming at the edge of your mouth. "I mean, it caught me off guard - not gonna lie. But I caught you off guard too, so, we're even."
Jessie felt her face heating up and she scruffed up her hair.
"No, that's not fair. I'm sorry," Jessie persisted.
You shrugged, sitting back, eyes fixed on your now-closed book for a moment. "We're still new; learning each other's boundaries. You don't like to be interrupted when you're showering." You laughed as you looked up to her with a smirk. "That's completely fine. I just didn't know."
Jessie held back a heavy sigh. This was so stupid.
"It wasn't that. I think I just thought you'd come in and I freaked out. I'm sorry."
"I wouldn't do that," you frowned in disbelief. "I," you gave an exasperated sigh and dropped your hands to your lap, "was just trying to see what you wanted for breakfast." Jessie was about to speak went you frowned deeper and spoke in a somewhat hushed voice. "Why would I barge in on you? We haven't even- never mind." You shook your head.
Jessie's stomach tightened and she sighed in an effort to reset. "Look, I'm very, very sorry. And yeah, it was stupid of me to think you were just barging in. I-" she shook her head as she tried to conjure up the right words. She shrugged in defeat. "This is entirely on me. Not you."
You gave her a look. "Oh, I love that line."
"It's not a line," she refuted before hanging her head in her hands and groaning. She straightened back up and gave you a beseeching look. "Can I make you breakfast? Please?"
You half rolled your eyes. "I was going to make you breakfast."
"No, come on," Jessie said as she headed to the kitchen and opened the fridge. "I owe you."
You relented and soon enough Jessie was sitting down across from you, plates of eggs and toast in front of you both.
There was conversation during breakfast, but it was stilted. This was not at all what Jessie pictured for your first morning together and of course it was her fault. It took valiant effort on her part to not get down on herself in this moment. If she did, she'd clam up and it would only make things worse.
Jessie insisted on doing the dishes after breakfast, despite your protests. You didn't finish your food, instead claiming it tasted good, but you just weren't that hungry. She hadn't even had a chance to inquire as to your plans for the day before you excused yourself, telling her you had to run some errands and meet up with a friend after. She wanted to offer to join you for errands, but got the sense you didn't want that.
When you parted ways that morning, she well and truly felt like shit.
----------
Thankfully, the awkwardness of that morning was fleeting and soon you two were back to normal. She'd even stayed a few more times over the passing weeks without incident and for that she was grateful.
She begrudged your situation more and more because all she wanted was to be with you. She wanted to spend every night with you, she wanted to fall asleep with you in her arms and wake up just the same. But, that couldn't be. Yet anyway.
Janine had been on her case to tell you everything, and she knew Janine was right, but every time she went to broach the subject her mouth went dry and she just chickened out.
At the start, she tried to tell herself that if she gave your relationship more time, it would be more comfortable to bring up, you'd have a solid foundation to fall back on. Even then, she knew it was a lie to cover up her cowardice. But now, several months into your relationship and even longer into your friendship, it felt like an impossibility to address. It felt like a betrayal.
And stupid moments caused friction. You two had been laughing about something and Jessie sat down after and you sat in her lap. Though she let you sit there for a short while, the way you shifted against her was far too risky. She tried to subtly coax you off, but she caught the look of embarrassment on your face.
Tonight, you were cuddled up on the couch watching a movie together. Then, of course, a hot and heavy sex scene started playing.
You both remained perfectly still as you both watched. The tension and anxiety Jessie felt was palpable and she was sure you felt it too. It's not that you'd never come across explicit scenes before together, but it was more and more awkward over time.
"Wow. They're really going for it," you muttered at some point as the scene dragged on, breaking the silence. She looked at you out of the corner of her eye and saw you rub your temple with a near-grimace on your face.
Her heart raced. Maybe she could use this as an opportunity. She cleared her throat and resettled into her position on the couch. She scratched at the corner of her eye.
"Yeah, totally," she said distractedly in response to your comment. "Um," she could feel her face heating up already, "I know you're into girls - I mean, obviously." Jessie's head lolled to the side as she shrugged. "But um, does that mean, you know, you've never slept with a guy? Or you know, been interested? In you know, sleeping with a guy?"
When she turned to look at you, she was met with a very perplexed stare. You frowned.
"What do you mean?" You asked, a slight edge in your voice and Jessie felt her face burning hot. She pulled her hand out of yours as she held out her palms while she spoke.
"I was just curious," she said as she brought her shoulders high in a prolonged shrug.
"Have you?" You asked pointedly.
"Wha- Me? Slept with a guy? Well, no," Jessie stammered, feeling your eyes bore into the side of her face as she spoke towards the TV. She looked back at you as she finished and you looked away.
"Mm," you voiced and you settled into the cushion a bit further, still not looking at her as you folded your arms tight against yourself.
"Well, um," her gaze flit about as she tried to map out how to proceed, "is that bad?"
"That you haven't slept with a guy?" You asked, that edge still in your voice as you looked at her. "Guess that all depends if you think it's bad that I have."
"You have?" Jessie asked brightly and you gave her an even more confused look. "Did you like it?"
"What? I'm so confused right now." You pushed yourself back up and turned your body partially towards her. "I don't know where you're going with this. But me sleeping with a guy before doesn't mean anything." You frowned. "If you're asking if I liked fucking a cock," you gave a faint laugh with a pointed look, "clearly not enough." You sat back against the couch once more and shot her a smirk. "That curiosity was satisfied and I don't ever need to do it again. A strap is more than enough for me."
Jessie's body froze and she held her breath in her lungs unknowingly. She eventually swallowed and looked away, settling back into the couch as well, but unable to speak. She felt numb.
"Hey, did I say something wrong?" You asked. She could see you sitting forward to peer at her. She felt your hand rest on her thigh and she cleared her throat, pulling away slightly before fixing her gaze on the TV again.
"Wha-" You started, shoulders dropping as you stared at her in confusion. "Babe, I don't-" You trailed off again. A moment passed, but you didn't break your stare. "I'm sorry if I said something wrong."
"It's all good," Jessie said lightly, offering you a fleeting glance before nodding at the screen. "I was just curious. Can we watch the rest of the movie?"
She saw your body slump out of the corner of her eye and felt your eyes still on her. You seemed to contemplate what to do, but eventually sat back. You went to grasp her hand, and although she didn't pull away this time, she didn't reciprocate as her fingers rest loosely around your grip.
"Do you want to sleep with a guy?" You asked slowly, not letting up.
"No," Jessie responded firmly.
"Well, what is this about? I'm sorry," you repeated emphatically. "I know we never talk about sex. I'm sorry if I said too much. But you asked, so I answered...," you trailed off.
Your note about how you avoided the topic of sex like the plague made matters worse. She tried not to let out a sigh of exasperation, settling for a glance down at your hand and a feeble shrug. "It was nothing. Let's just watch the movie, okay?"
"I can tell it's not nothing," you went on and Jessie turned to you this time, giving you a steady stare. You looked so sorry, confused, helpless even. Part of her felt bad, but at this point she mostly felt bad for herself. Her emotions were churning and she wasn't sure how to feel or what to say. She wanted to leave.
She stood up and caught the look of concern on your face, but turned her back to you anyway.
"Where are you going?" You asked. She could hear you push yourself to the edge of your seat.
She scratched the back of her head. Her conviction to leave now wavering. She pushed her hair back.
"Just gonna grab some water," she settled on, her voice low and flat. She forced herself to turn and give you as much of a smile as she could muster. You looked unconvinced and were about to speak, when she cut you off. "Want anything?"
You paused, seeming to relent. You stared at her for a couple of seconds before dropping your gaze. "No," you said quietly as you sat back.
When Jessie returned to the couch, the tension was no better, but you'd seemed to be giving her space, which she was grateful for.
Her mind ran rampant throughout the rest of the movie. She caught herself fidgeting several times over; running her palms harshly against the top of her thighs, picking at her fingers, bouncing her knee. She wasn't being very subtle about her unrest, but you kept your distance.
The movie ended and the credits rolled and neither of you went to speak or make a move. Jessie fought the renewed urge to leave.
Eventually, you spoke.
"It's pretty late. Guess we should go to bed?" You asked in more of a statement than a question. Jessie didn't look at you and simply nodded. Another pause.
"You don't have to stay if you don't want," you offered, voice softer than before.
She shot you a look, holding eye contact. Even though she wanted to leave a moment ago, the fact that you offered it caused her temper to flare.
"Sure. If that's what you want," she said in a restrained manner as she stood.
"What? I-no. Jess," you implored. "That's not what I meant." She heard you stand, but she kept her back to you. "I-you just seem...restless. And not happy with me. So..., I was just saying you shouldn't feel obliged to stay the night. I want you to stay, but, only if you want it, too."
"Why would I be upset with you?" Jessie asked evenly as she turned to face you. She knew it was entirely unfair to ask, but she was so out of sorts and didn't know how to manage.
You gave almost a pained laugh. "I was hoping you could tell me. Because I don't know." You gave a quick shake of your head and held out your hands in defeat. "You asked me this question about sleeping with guys. I answered, and now you won't talk to me."
"And I told you it was nothing. I was just curious. I'm just tired. It's been a long week," she said. She knew she should offer you some kind of reassurance - the truth, for one - but even a smile or a kiss or something. She couldn't bring herself to do it.
You didn't believe her; that was clear. Still, you nodded.
"Okay. Well. If you want to talk at some point, I'm open. I'd like to," you offered before clasping your hands together and shrugging. "And, I do want you to spend the night still. If you like."
How? After how cold she'd been. Cagey. You still wanted her to stay. You were too good for her. The anger she'd been using to build a wall between you weakened.
"Okay," she said quietly, kicking idly at the hardwood floor, her eyes downcast before looking up at you. "If you're alright with me staying, I will."
You gave a discouraged shake of your head. "Yes, of course I want you to stay. Jess, you-" you stalled and just shook your head further. "Yes. Please stay."
She set up on the couch like usual. Tonight you didn't even attempt to offer sharing a bed together and you retreated to your room after a tentative and brief 'goodnight' kiss.
Jessie didn't know how long she laid there staring up at the darkened ceiling. Her mind wouldn't let up.
You had no interest in cock. So, you weren't interested in her. At least you wouldn't be once you knew.
Her eyes stung with unshed tears. She really wanted things to be different with you. She was so stupid. She'd let things go far too long. She'd been too scared to address things - to risk losing you. And now she was going to lose you anyway, but she'd let too much time pass, your connection grow too deep. Her chest ached already.
How could she protect herself so much, but still leave herself so vulnerable?
All of the 'should've' and 'could've' moments from your relationship were playing endlessly in her head. Her nails dug painfully into her skin as she tried to retain composure.
Alarm shot through her body as she heard your bedroom door open. She lay entirely still as the door softly opened. It was a couple of second before she saw your figure tentatively stepping out into the dark only to stop at the foot of the couch.
"Jess?" You whispered.
Another flare of panic went through her and her body stiffened further. She managed to respond though.
"Y-yeah?" She said, needing to clear her throat and hating how muffled her voice sounded with residual emotion.
You were quiet for a moment before speaking again.
"I can't sleep," you said, and Jessie's chest panged when she heard your voice waver.
She cleared her throat again. "Me neither."
You sniffled and took a seat on the arm of the couch. She could make out the shadow of you staring down at your hands as you fidgeted.
"I don't like how we left things tonight," you said quietly.
A renewed wave of anxiety went through Jessie, her hands clenching into fists.
"Yeah. Same," she said. It was true, even if you were upset for different reasons.
"Can we talk, then?" You asked. Jessie exhaled silently. She didn't want to talk. She just wanted things to be better. To be different. But she didn't want to have the hard conversations that would likely be the end of things.
"Sure," she agreed.
"Can you...," you trailed off momentarily, "tell me what upset you this evening? Because, if I said or did anything offensive or upsetting, I really want to know so I don't do it again."
"You didn't do anything," Jessie told you, already feeling herself start to withdraw despite everything.
"Jess," you implored, some impatience bleeding in. "Please. I know something's wrong. And I-" You paused, eventually exhaling. "Knowing that I've upset or hurt you in some way is driving me crazy. I-I care about you so much. You don't even know. I just want to fix things."
Jessie felt tears started to pool at the corner of her eyes again and she felt her defenses weaken.
"You didn't do anything wrong, baby," she said gently. "I'm just in my head."
You moved from the arm of the couch to the cushions. You leaned forward, resting your weight on your palms that you positioned outside of her legs, close enough to touch.
"You don't need to be," you said. "I want you to feel safe talking to me. Isn't that the point of how we're approaching our relationship? To build things emotionally?"
Jessie ground her teeth together as she fought off impending emotions. Even if she knew what she wanted to say, she wasn't sure she'd be able to speak without her voice trembling. She saw as you watched her quietly before looking away in defeat. Still, your thumb tenderly grazed the side of her leg.
"I don't know what to do," you said, gaze set on the floor. You eventually looked back to her, a pained smile on your face as you looked at her through the dark. "I really love you, Jess." Your voice broke as you said her name.
Jessie lifted her head to look further at you before pushing herself up so she was sitting. You loved her. Or at least you thought you did. Her chest tightened painfully as your words settled in.
"You don't have to say the same," you spoke quickly. "I just- I just want you to know."
She stared at you through the dark. She wanted to reciprocate. So badly. But how could she tell you she loved you when she couldn't find the courage to tell you anything else?
Her thoughts turned dark. Truth was, you didn't truly love her. You legitimately couldn't. You only loved what she presented and time was quickly running out.
The longer she waited the more hurt you looked. She felt so conflicted and eventually just reacted.
"Come here," she said softly as pulled you by the shirt towards her and kissed you deeply. She felt your body hitch with initial hesitation before melting into the kiss. You pulled back briefly, studying her for a second before kissing her again, deeper and more passionately than earlier.
Things escalated quickly. Your touches were hungry and urgent and this time Jessie did nothing to stop you. Soon, you were straddling her on the couch as you made out and your hands wandered along her body.
It wasn't long before a tightening sensation in her pants brought her back to her senses. Her grip on your waist tightened and you moaned into the kiss as you ground your hips into her.
Jessie's eyes flew open in a panic and she pushed you off of her. She tried to be gentle and gradual about it, but there was still an audible thud as you made contact with the arm of the couch.
Jessie watched you, wide-eyed and terrified as you looked back at her with shock that quickly dissolved into hurt. You cast your gaze to the wall, your body stiff, and Jessie could see emotion starting to bubble up.
"Y/N, I-" she started, but her words caught in her throat as you stood up and walked briskly into your bedroom. You threw the door closed behind you, and whether intentional or not, it didn't quite close and was left a few inches ajar.
A completely different kind of anxiety swept through Jessie's body as she rose off the couch and strode towards your door, pausing and staring at the gap between the frame and door. She wanted to push it open, but she remained rooted to the spot.
"Y/N," she called your name softly. "Y/N, I'm sorry. I-"
"Just go away, Jessie." Your voice was congested and strained and left her with little doubt that you were crying. Even then, you didn't sound angry, you sounded dejected and defeated and it hurt Jessie far more.
She let out an exasperated breath, bringing her hand to the door and opening it just a touch as she peered in. You were already under the covers at the far edge of the bed with your back to the door.
"Can we please talk?" Jessie asked, hoping desperately that you could feel how sorry she was.
You sniffled and she saw you curl into yourself under the covers. "No. I'd really rather not right now." Jessie's heart ached and continued racing.
"I-I can understand. But, please let me explain-"
"There's not much to explain," you interrupted. Jessie protested your claim and you cut her off again, trying valiantly to keep your voice steady though it still wavered. "I'm just going to go to sleep, okay?"
Jessie's stomach was in knots as she stared at your figure in the dark. There was so much she wanted to say.
"Please close the door," you pleaded softly.
She opened her mouth to speak, even lifting herself up onto balls of her feet before stopping herself. Defeat swept over her as she saw you wipe at your face. Her shoulders slumped and she sighed quietly. Her stare lingered a few moments longer before she reached up and closed the door.
She walked in a daze back to the couch and sat down heavily and stared blankly forward. This morning, you two were close as ever. Now...
Her shoulders shook as she started to cry. The display of emotions caught her off guard and she sat up pin straight and grit her teeth together harshly. Her lip trembled and she held her breath firmly in her lungs as she tried to regain control.
She dug her fingers painfully into the tops of her thighs and a small whimper escaped her. She'd tried to be so careful about everything, but instead made a royal mess out of everything.
She sniffled as she pushed herself off of the couch. She found herself at the front door, putting on her shoes and jacket. She grasped the doorknob, stilling, hesitating for just a moment before swinging it open and stepping out.
Glancing back, she contemplated texting you or leaving you a note of some kind. Her throat grew tight once more with grief and she closed the door.
Let's be honest. The way she was hurting you, the way she was lying to you for so long, she clearly wasn't ready to be in a relationship. You deserved so much better.
A/N: Folks asked to be tagged @multifandomlesbianic @marvelwomen-simp
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navybrat817 · 1 day
Text
Hold You Tight: Part 9
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Pairing: Club Owner!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Fic Summary: The owner of The 107th wants you to be his girl whether you like it or not.
Part 8 | Series Masterlist | Part 10
Chapter Summary: Bucky takes you home, but will he keep his hands to himself?
Chapter Word Count: Over 3.7k
Chapter Warnings: DARK AU, tension, dirty talk, unease, possessiveness, inner turmoil, slight feels, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?), more warnings to come.
A/N: More Hold You Tight and thank you for your patience! Hope you lovelies continue to enjoy. Bucky edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo . ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby , but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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You thought you heard the men wish you well once more when Bucky led you out of the office. You weren’t completely sure since you tried to block everything out, but attempting to disassociate wouldn’t exactly do you any good. The night wasn’t over yet and you had to stay sharp. You didn’t know what Bucky had planned for when he got you home. Were you prepared at all?
Not in the least.
You half expected to walk back through the front of the club to leave, but Ray directed you to a door near the back once he gave Bucky a nod. The car was waiting in the alley and you took a moment to glance up at the sky. You could only make out one star and you wished in that moment you could grow wings and fly away. But when did wishing upon a star do you any good?
“Let’s get you back to your place,” Bucky said, helping you into the car.
You had to give him credit for trying to keep up his end of the bargain by getting you home on time. Your body refused to relax though once he sat beside you and took your hand. Was he trying to get you accustomed to his touch? Make you crave him? It bothered you that in spite of your determination he drew you in to a certain degree. But you wouldn’t let him take you to bed tonight. You weren’t ready to cross that inevitable line.
Maybe, just maybe, if your performance in bed disappointed him, he’d get bored and walk away. The thought almost made you laugh. That wasn’t happening. If anything, he’d probably love teaching you how to be his perfect lover.
“I think tonight went well,” Bucky smiled.
“Which part exactly?” You mumbled, pulling your hand away. The part where he forced you to go, how his men all but admitted they knew Bucky stalked you, or how they beat the hell out of a man?
“Just the night in general. I knew everyone would love you, but I really think Thor wants to be your big brother now,” Bucky replied. You wanted it so badly to be endearing, but Thor was dangerous. He mentioned a father-in-law. How exactly did he find his wife? And bringing up the flower donations to the hospital. Bucky seemed upset. Why? “Which he’ll have to fight Steve for.”
“Fighting. You guys seem to excel in that arena,” you said, remembering how they all took turns beating up John. “But I guess Steve does have a bit of that ‘big brother’ vibe, helping you take total control of my life and whatnot.”
“Not total control. I’m still letting you work, but maybe I can buy the shop.” He chuckled at your thunderous expression. The light threat had you seeing red. “I probably shouldn't joke about that, should I?”
“Letting me work? Like it’s your decision? And don’t you dare buy the shop.” You pushed at him to keep from slapping him when he chuckled again. Not with enough force to get him far away from you, but you needed some sort of space in the vehicle. He also needed a good hit over the head. “You’re a bully, do you know that? So are your friends.”
His laughter died off quickly when he reached out and gently took your hand again, prying your fingers away from your palm. You didn’t notice it stung from your nails until he brought your hand to his mouth and kissed it. “You think we’re bullies?” He asked against your skin.
“Yes. Besides nearly beating that jerk to death, you do realize that you use force and threats to dominate and intimidate. That’s a form of bullying, Bucky,” you said. Was he deliberately being obtuse or was he lost in his delusion that this was all normal?
“I wouldn’t say we’re bullies. I call it protecting and keeping what’s mine,” he said. There was no shame on his end.
“Right. Because I’m a possession and not a person,” you said, your face scrunching up as you tried not to cry. You needed rest. If part of Bucky’s plan was to wear you down by overwhelming you, mission accomplished. “I’m so tired. I just want to go to bed.”
“You’re a person, not a possession, Kotyonok. And not just a person, a good person who gives so much of herself to others. And probably one of the only people who rightfully calls me out on my shit.” His response drew you up short. “Outside of my friends, no one else does that.”
“Maybe because they’re afraid of you and what you can do,” you said after a moment. Fear could make anyone say what they thought people wanted to hear. “Either that or they want your approval,” you added, which you could also understand to a point. People wanted a sense of belonging, especially with those who had influence and power.
“Maybe they are afraid,” he agreed, brushing his lips against your palm again with a sigh. “What is it about me that scares you most?”
“I’m not really sure exactly,” you admitted. There was so much about the situation that terrified you. What he was capable of. How he inserted himself into various aspects of your life and so quickly. How far he was willing to go to keep you. “But I think it’s your conviction. That you’re so sure that I’m your other half and no one can convince you otherwise, not even me.”
You could scream until your lungs gave out that you didn’t belong with him and you knew in your heart he’d argue until his last breath that you did. He was steadfast in that belief that you were soulmates. That conviction was so strong that what you really feared was that he would somehow convince you that he was right: that you belonged together.
Those steel blue eyes of his met yours and mesmerized you for a heartbeat before you looked away. “Love is scary. It’s natural to be afraid of it.” His lips brushed your ear, making you shiver. “But giving someone the most fragile parts of yourself is one of the bravest things a person can do.”
There was truth in his words, but it felt like he moved another chess piece into place. He was trying to disarm you and you couldn’t let him. “Who painted that black dahlia in your office?” You asked suddenly, feeling him move back enough that you could turn your head toward him. “And why display that flower?” You didn’t believe for a second that he chose it for aesthetic purposes.
“Beautiful, isn't it? Steve painted it,” he replied with an odd mixture of affection and bitterness. “It’s for my parents.”
“Steve is a gifted artist.” You hoped your voice stayed even enough that Bucky wouldn’t get jealous of you complimenting another man’s talent. “I don't know if the symbolism of flowers mean anything to you, but the black dahlia-”
“Betrayal. Sadness. Darkness,” he ticked off, his voice cold enough that another shiver moved through your body. “It was the last flower my dad ever got my mom and it serves as a reminder.”
You swallowed as warning bells sounded in your mind to tread carefully. “And what's that?”
He moved close, your eyes shutting as his hand wrapped around the nape of your neck. “That I'll never do to you what he did to her.”
There was suppressed rage within him. Sorrow. It rolled off him in waves strong enough that they could drown you. He said earlier that his dad got what he deserved. What had he done to his mom?
“You’re in pain,” you whispered. He was hurting and you logically shouldn’t care. So why did you want to know the cause of that hurt? “You have to tell me why.”
It wasn’t for you to use to your advantage. You weren’t sure if you could manipulate someone else. If you knew what happened though, it would at least give you more answers to who Bucky was and why he was the way he was. It could help you gain some sort of understanding.
“I’m not in pain when I’m with you,” he whispered, bringing your hand on his chest. Was he relying on you to chase away whatever haunted him? “Later. I’ve overwhelmed you enough for one evening.”
You let out a breath. You swore he was doing this on purpose, giving you just enough information that you’d wait around until he gave you more. “I can’t argue with you there,” you said, his heart racing under your touch. “Just answer one thing for me, please.”
“What’s that?”
“Marc from the bookstore,” you began, the man’s kind face shimmering in your mind. “Did anything happen to him?”
“I’d question another man being on your mind, but I know you’re just concerned about his well-being.” An easy smile crossed Bucky’s face as you bit your tongue. You could think about anyone you wanted to. “I can’t speak for him right this second, but he was perfectly fine when you and I left. He was just having a chat with one of my associates.”
You exhaled, thankful Marc wasn't hurt. “What kind of chat?” You asked. He was a nice guy, though he did seem to know a bit about Bucky. What exactly was he involved in?
“He just got a warning to be careful about what he does or doesn’t say to his customers.” You tensed before he kissed your forehead. Did he know about the conversation you two had? “And I don’t think the two of you should be alone with each other in the bookstore going forward.”
Just when Bucky had you feeling some sort of sympathy for him moments ago he shocked you right out of it. “Another decision that isn’t yours to make,” you stated, the car coming to a stop. “And you really don’t have to walk me up. I think we’ve had enough of each other’s company tonight.”
“I said I’m tucking you into bed and that’s exactly what I’m going to do.” The smile he gave you was nothing short of cocky when he added, “And you owe me a photo. I’m going to get it.”
He was a dog with a bone. He wouldn’t let that go. “Why don’t you just take a photo of me giving you the finger?” You suggested as he helped you out of the car.
“Only if you do it with a smile. I’ll even set it as the background on my phone,” he winked. Your reluctance and defiance of him didn’t phase him in the slightest. “And if you give me the finger, I’ll take it as an invitation that you want to fuck me.”
“Let’s go, please.”
You said nothing else as you went into the building, your anxiety mounting by the second. The slow rise of the elevator didn’t help, Bucky’s hip pressed against yours like he couldn’t stand to have space between you. You figure he’d shove you against the wall and claim your mouth, but he didn’t make a move. It impressed you that he behaved until you got to your floor. It didn’t stop your hand from shaking when you got your keys out.
“Still don’t want to say good night now?”
“I don’t want to say good night at all,” he answered, following you into the apartment and turning on the light. The welcoming feeling you expected when you got home wasn't there. There was a chill in the usual warmth.
“Well, you’ll have to sooner or later,” you said, swallowing when you faced Bucky. He shut the door and watched intently as you set your keys and bag down. You were quiet as you stared back, tension thick as you tried to predict what he was going to do. Once again, he managed to hold all the power in your home.
“Have I told you how beautiful you are?” He asked, heat and hunger in his stare as he slowly advanced.
Your throat went dry as you stepped back. “You have.”
“So beautiful and so good.” You made another move to retreat when he stepped forward, his manner confident and compelling as he reached out and prevented you from moving back further. “It’s driving me crazy not having you yet.”
“Please, you don’t…” you trailed off when he sank to his knees, unexpected heat flowing from your core. He guided one of your hands to his shoulder to brace yourself, his eyes soft as he helped remove one of your shoes. You found it difficult to breathe as he removed the other, his hand brushing your ankle with infinite tenderness. Like it was an honor to touch and be on his knees for you.
“I know the first time I taste you I’ll never want to stop. I’ll have to wake up every day between your thighs. Fall asleep that way, too.” His hand slid up your calf and his eyes darkened when your other hand found its way to his thick locks. Wetness gathered between your legs when his touch moved to your thigh. “Your pussy is hungry for me, isn’t it? My fingers, my tongue, my cock. I’ll feed her well.”
His voice was like velvet. Seductive. Aching. “Bucky…” Your breath rushed out swiftly when he kissed your mound through your clothes, tormenting you with arousal you didn’t ask for. It frightened you.
“I can smell you,” he murmured, nosing along where his lips had been before he sat back. “Smell so fucking good.”
Moving your shoes out of the way, he rose to his full height again as you willed your legs not to shake. You weren’t used to anyone looking at you, let alone speak to you, the way he did. Stark desire. Possessiveness. His form of love. Your heart pounded and you refused to answer him or glance down. If you looked at the front of his pants…
He took your hand and pulled you in the direction of the bedroom. Your heart pounded with mounting speed, your heels digging into the floor. “You still haven't kissed me,” you blurted out, hoping it would prevent him from taking you to bed. Or would he take that as an invitation to kiss your lips?
“No, I haven't.” You tried to keep some distance between you as he went to your bed, his hand moving along the blanket. You couldn't breathe. “It scares you how much your body wants mine, doesn’t it?”
“Is that what you think?” You asked, forcing air back into your lungs. It did scare you. It also scared you that you didn’t push him away or scream when he dropped to his knees to remove your shoes. Where was your fighting instinct?
“It is what I think.” The ease in which he moved away from the bed to your dresser to find your pajamas frightened you, too. Like he belonged in your room. You thought back to the night he broke in and left your gift on your bed. How much time did he take to look around? “Like love, giving your body to someone can be scary. You have to trust that you won't get hurt when you’re physically vulnerable.”
“You swore you wouldn't hurt me,” you reminded him.
“And I won't. But you know what else I think?” His magnetic gaze stayed on you as he brought a nightgown over. “That no guy has ever really taken care of you and you’re apprehensive to let me try.”
If you were apprehensive, it was because he was a walking red flag. “What makes you…” Your words stopped when he grasped the bottom of your shirt and pulled it up. Your arms instinctively went up before you realized what you were doing. Removing your shirt, you didn’t get a chance to cover your breasts before he slipped the nightgown on you.
“Your past boyfriends never did anything for you. Emotionally, physically,” he stated, sliding his hands under the nightgown to your hips. Grasping the hem of your pants, he pushed them down as far as he could. “I’ll bet they didn’t even buy you flowers and used the excuse that they didn’t because you’re a florist.”
The words were tiny cuts on old wounds, but you wouldn't give him the satisfaction. “And you will?”
“I will. I’ll give you the life and love you deserve, making you forget any other man out there existed before me.” His eyes raked over you as you stepped out of your pants, your panties still soaked. “But I’m not gonna fuck you.”
Exhaling slowly, relief flooded you. Though you couldn’t help but wonder why he wasn’t trying to take what he wanted. “You won’t?”
“Not tonight.” He shook his head even as his fingers moved along your waist. “Like I said, I’ve overwhelmed you enough. Sleeping with you might really put you over the edge.”
“Thanks.” He desired you, but continued to hold it at bay for your sake. How long would that last? “I appreciate that.”
“And we both know the moment I take you to bed, you’ll be begging for more.” His voice dropped as he toyed with the soft fabric. “And as much as I want to stay in bed with you all night and morning and give us what we both crave, I still need to get things in place at the penthouse and you need rest. You understand.”
You tried not to smile and failed. He acted as if he was doing you a favor. Cocky bastard. “I guess we’ll just have to suffer until then.” Sarcasm continued to be a good way to deflect.
He exhaled at your light teasing, his body still a bit tense. Being close to you and not having you was probably driving him mad. “Maybe we'll have to have another private call and finish what we started. Give us both some relief.” He turned you toward the door and gave you a light swat on your ass. “Go wash your face and brush your teeth before I change my mind.”
You made it to the bathroom in record time, not having to be told twice. You didn’t want to risk staying there in case he lost his resolve. Looking in the mirror as you went through the rest of your nighttime routine, you expected to look more exhausted from the whirlwind of the day. You somehow looked wide awake. Was the experience giving you thicker skin? Or did his desire for you somehow give you a bit of a twisted spark? You’d still be billing him for your future therapy bills either way.
A couple of deep breaths and you made your way back to your bedroom. You paused when you saw Bucky holding a framed photo of you and your friends, longing in his eyes when he lifted his gaze. “You look so happy,” he murmured, carefully setting the frame down on the nightstand before he pulled the blankets back for you. “Can you do me one favor and I’ll go?”
“I was happy. It was a fun day.” You slipped into bed when he gave you space to do so, but his body was still close to yours. Firm. Hard. He really could pin you down and do what he wanted if he wished. “What’s the favor?”
He tucked the blanket around you, his hair falling into his face. You almost reached up to brush it back, but refrained. Who knew what your touch would do? “Look at me like you love me. Please.”
You stiffened as you stared up at his face, your heart simultaneously racing and breaking for him. Love was something that provided a sense of connection, fulfillment. It was a way to show you that you weren’t alone in the world. You wanted to believe you were worthy of love, that you could build a life with someone. Bucky believed he was that someone.
Why?
You weren’t sure if it was his yearning gaze or if you were ready for the night to end, but your expression softened as you imagined meeting him in another life. Going on fun dates, talking about books, making each other laugh as you cooked together, snuggling under a blanket as you talked about your future. You found yourself smiling at the images that went through your mind. What could’ve been. What could be if he lessened his hold a bit on you.
He audibly exhaled when he snapped a photo on his phone, making you blink. “Thank you. Now I can look at this whenever I’m not near you and need to feel your love.”
Words escaped you, the invisible collar around your throat getting tighter. You could only nod and wonder how you kept throwing fuel on the fire of his want for you. Which one of you would burn first?
“Get some sleep. Dream sweet dreams.” You felt featherlight kisses on each eyelid when you shut them. “You know, I’ll sleep a lot easier once you’re in my bed.”
“If you get me into your bed,” you mumbled, refusing to look at him.
“Stubborn kitten.” He chuckled and gave each eyelid one more kiss. Why were his lips so soft? “Maybe I’ll stop by the shop tomorrow so I can take you to lunch. You can tell Addison all about it.”
“Maybe.” You yawned and snuggled more into your pillows. “Good night, Bucky.”
A finger moved along your cheek before it stopped abruptly. “Good night, Kotyonok.”
Bucky still hadn't kissed your mouth.
You didn’t open your eyes as he left, but you didn’t fall asleep right away either. Your body was too wound up. Too many questions went through your mind. Like what happened with his parents and how exactly he’d move you out of your place.
The man was a step ahead in everything. You’d be in his penthouse before the month was over. He’d get his way, but maybe it didn't have to be his way completely. He could give you an area in the place for you and you alone. It wouldn’t hurt to ask. After all, he did say he’d make it up to you by dragging you out tonight.
And if he cared the way he said he did, he could give you that one small thing.
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Is our poor Kotyonok starting to accept the inevitable? Will Bucky stop by the shop? And how much longer until he really takes you to bed?Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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wheres-mylove · 1 day
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puppy love - modern!cregan stark x fem!reader
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Summary: Searching for peace in a quiet town takes an unexpected turn when your neighbor’s dog decides you have to be his new best friend. One look at the neighbor and you’re totally fine with getting a two-for-one deal.
Disclaimer: English isn't my first language!
Word count: 2.5k
A large painting of a wolf pack hung over the fireplace. (Y/N) stared at it, biting her lip.  
She wasn’t even sure she knew how to light the damn fire.
Was this whole thing a bad idea? Trading in her modern King’s Landing studio for a tiny house in Winterfell? A big city girl in a small town. Yeah, she might’ve officially lost her mind.
“I hope it’s to your liking, dear,” came the sharp but grounding voice of Mrs. Glover, snapping her back to reality. The elderly landlady was already fastening her fur coat.
“It’s... cozy,” she replied with her best smile. Didn’t want to admit to herself that she was feeling wildly out of place.
“Good.” Mrs. Glover nodded, satisfied. “Now, remember, once the snow hits, you’ll need to keep that fireplace going. Northern frost is a bitch.” She placed the house keys on the small wooden table. “Rent’s due by the tenth.”
“I’ll remember,” (Y/N) said quickly. “Thanks again for lowering the price.”
Mrs. Glover waved her hand dismissively. “Don’t even mention it. I’m in a hurry to get to Essos, and these silly umbrella cocktails are calling my name.”
The old woman paused at the door. “You sure you can handle moving everything in on your own? I have to head out, but the Stark boy lives just across the street. Strong lad, good arms, I’m telling ya. Handsome, too. He’d help, if you ask nicely.” She winked. “If I were only a few decades younger…”
“All good, ma’am,” (Y/N) cut in, her face heating up. “I don’t have much. A few boxes, really.”
“Well, if you say so, Miss Independent. Good luck!”
With that, Mrs. Glover disappeared with a screech of tires in her flaming red car, leaving (Y/N) standing alone in front of her new home.  
She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. She could absolutely do this. She’d unpack before sundown, get settled, and everything would be fine. Better than fine, even. This place was going to be a fresh start. An escape from the Big Disaster, also known as her last relationship.
She’d find the meaning of life in the wild North or however that saying went.
She was currently standing in front of her open trunk, debating what to take first. And then something licked her hand.
Slowly, she turned her head, still not fully registering what was happening, and met the gaze of big brown eyes belonging to a fluffy creature as black as the night. A light pink tongue paused halfway, as if waiting for her reaction.
“Oh, gods,” she whispered, frozen in place. “Are you a dog or a wolf? Please, be a dog. A friendly one.”
Her new friend barked in response and rolled onto its back in the universal gesture of please love me.
“You’re a dog,” she sighed in relief, dropping to her knees to give him a good belly rub. “A boy, huh? A beautiful one. But where did you come from?”
Animals don’t talk apparently. The girl glanced around instead. She’d left the gate open, sure, but he had to come from somewhere.
The dog let out a low grumble, tail thumping against the ground. She scratched his head, laughing softly. After a few minutes, he got up, shook off the dust, and placed one paw on her car.
“I’m moving into this house,” she informed him, picking up one of the smaller boxes from the trunk. She liked talking to pets, even though they couldn’t offer much in the way of conversation. “I’ve got a lot to do, but after that, we could—”
And just like that, the dog vanished as suddenly as he’d appeared. (Y/N) stood there, blinking at the empty yard.
“Bye?” she called out, shaking her head in disbelief. He probably went home.
She continued unpacking, but on her third trip to the car, she saw him again, this time with a tennis ball clamped between his teeth. He had so much hope in his eyes.
“Do you want to play?” she asked, amused. The moment she said the magic word, his ears perked up in excitement. “Where are you even from?”
She should have been unpacking. She knew that. But how could she say no to a cutie like him?
“Good boy!” (Y/N) laughed as the dog leapt into the air and caught the ball in his mouth, mid-throw.
“Excuse me, is he harassing you, lady?” she suddenly heard a low, masculine voice behind her.
The dog dropped the ball from his mouth, adopting a tragic, martyr-like expression.
She spun around, heart pounding, and found herself face-to-face with a man who looked like a classic Northern lord from the past. Tall, broad-shouldered, with dark, wild hair and a beard that framed a strong jaw. He had these gray eyes that were both piercing and soft.
“He’s mine,” the stranger explained with a half-smile, clearly catching her staring.
“Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to steal him, just so you know” (Y/N) finally spoke up, cheeks flushing. “He just... showed up. With the ball. So, I thought…”
Her awkward explanation was interrupted by his laugh, loud and kind.
“Don’t worry, I didn’t think you were kidnapping him,” he said, hands in his pockets. “I was just making sure he wasn’t bothering you. He must’ve jumped the fence. I saw you two from across the street.”
Ah. The young Stark. 
“No, not at all,” she reassured him, finally getting her words in order. “He’s well-behaved. What’s his name?”
The dark cloud of fur came closer and laid at her feet, cementing their new alliance.
The man hesitated for a moment. (Y/N) looked at him expectantly.
“Frosty,” he finally mumbled, looking at the ground.
It was the girl’s turn to laugh.
“You named this huge black wolf-ass looking creature Frosty?” she asked, scratching the dog behind his ears. He was absolutely delighted.
“He likes the cold,” Stark offered with a small shrug, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “And you are…?”
“(Y/N). I’d shake your hand, but I’m doing something important. Nice to meet you though.” 
“Cregan,” he said, placing a hand over his heart with a grin. “Nice to meet you too. Frosty’s obviously on cloud nine. He’s usually not that trusting. Friendly with other dogs, sure, but picky with people. You must be special.”
Her heart swelled at those words. What an honor.
“He’s my first friend in Winterfell.”
Cregan smiled and looked at her car, noticing the boxes still inside.
“So, renting from Mrs. Glover?”
“Yeah, I just moved in from King’s Landing today.”
“City girl, yeah?” He whistled, leaning against the side of the car with a thoughtful look. “You’ve come a long way. But hey, I’m not complaining. We’re neighbors now. I live across the street.”
(Y/N) flashed a smile. “I’m not complaining either.”
“Please feel welcome to ask if you ever need anything. I’ll give you my number, just in case.”
Smooth, Cregan, smooth.
Rolling up his sleeves, Cregan walked over and hefted the biggest box out of the trunk like it was nothing.
“Now, let’s help you with that.”
That old hag was right. He had good arms.
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The Northern frost was, indeed, a bitch.
But the warmth of the fire, the soft couch beneath her, and Frosty’s massive, fluffy body draped across her lap made the afternoon bearable. (Y/N)’s hand had long since gone numb from petting the dog, but his fur was addictive.
Her phone suddenly rang, breaking the peace. Frosty, naturally, didn’t move a bit. Not even a nuclear explosion could wake him.
Sighing, (Y/N) reached for her phone on the table, already knowing who it was. 
Helaena Targaryen.
“How’s the grass-touching and vet-seducing going?” came Helaena’s voice, sugary sweet and teasing, before (Y/N) even had a chance to say hello.
“First of all, the grass is frozen solid,” (Y/N) shot back, shifting slightly to keep her lap from completely losing circulation. “And second, again. There is no seducing happening.”
“Sure, smarty-pants. And you’re totally not babysitting his dog right now.”
“I mean,” (Y/N) sighed with a reluctant smile. “said dog kind of invited himself here. And Cregan gave him a backpack full of snacks and toys, like he was dropping him off at daycare.”
He had also scolded him earlier for having dirty paws, saying that’s not how he raised him. The dog liked her, and she liked both him and his owner. Cregan turned out to be a veterinarian with a small clinic in town. He was working late today, so she had offered to look after his friend. Home office benefits.
Hel snorted loudly on the other end. “Oh my god, he’s ridiculous. I love it. By the way, I did a tarot reading for you,” she announced, suddenly taking on a serious and spiritual tone. “The message is clear. Go after Cregan, let him chop wood and start the fire in your—”
(Y/N) groaned, facepalming. “You’ve got to stop. I’m not ready for this. And he’s just kind.”
“Kind of having a crush on you. You’re still hurting after that Gwayne situation, aren’t you?”
The mention of his name made her feel sick. “It’s not about him. I’m just... done with dating for a while.”
“Well, he was a moron,” Helaena said bluntly, her tone shifting from teasing to fierce in a heartbeat. “For the record, we all stopped talking to him. Aemond wanted to beat him up, but I told him karma would do the job.”
(Y/N) winced, though she appreciated Targaryens’ loyalty. “I’m tired of men.”
“You’re not tired of men,” Helaena corrected her. “You’re tired of idiots. Is Cregan an idiot?”
She knew he wasn’t.
“Hey, if you don’t make a move, I will.”
“You’re the worst.”
“Kidding. But please, please, for the love of gods, make him chop some wood for you.”
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A strange noise woke her up.
It sounded like something was scratching at the front door. (Y/N) rubbed her eyes, groaning as she crawled out from under the warm blanket. A quick glance at the digital clock. 5:58 a.m. The sun hadn’t even thought about rising yet. The scratching persisted.
“If this is some kind of monster, I swear I’m not in the mood,” she mumbled, her voice heavy with sleep. Then came a familiar bark, and she frowned.
Frosty?
She cracked the door open, and sure enough, there on the porch stood Cregan’s dog, barely visible in the early morning gloom. Frosty barked again, hopped down the steps, and turned to look at her expectantly.
He wanted her to follow him.
“Hold on, buddy, let me grab my shoes,” she promised, her voice a mix of anxiety and sleepiness. She hurriedly slipped on her shoes, her mind racing. What if something had happened to Cregan? Was this a “dog leads the way to an emergency” situation? With a quick grab of her hoodie, she went after the dog. Frosty was checking over his shoulder to make sure she was keeping up.
In no time, they arrived at Cregan’s house. The door was slightly ajar, and her heart raced as she stepped inside.
“Cregan?” she called out hesitantly.
“Yeah?” came his voice from the right, and she nearly jumped out of her skin.
Cregan Stark stood by the kitchen counter, looking mildly confused with a steaming cup of coffee in hand. He was clad only in gray sweatpants, the silver wolf pendant around his neck glinting in the soft light.
“Are you okay?” she blurted out, still trying to catch her breath.
“Feeling great. Want some coffee?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
(Y/N) pulled out a chair and plopped down, staring at Frosty, who was wagging his tail like he had just saved the day.
“Am I a joke to you?” Frosty tilted his head, giving her an innocent look. "He came to my door like some heroic rescue dog. I thought—” She sighed, running a hand through her messy hair. “I thought something had happened to you. I figured you’d, I don’t know, passed out or something. I’m pretty sure I just aged ten years.”
Cregan cast a side glance at Frosty, lips twitching as he tried to keep a straight face. "Frosty, man, what’s the deal?” he asked the dog, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips.
(Y/N) narrowed her eyes. “This is not funny.”
“You really got that worried?” 
“Yes! And here you are, in perfect shape. Alive,” she muttered, her eyes trailing over his very much alive form, pausing on his very defined abs. “And half-naked. I might cry.”
That did it—Cregan turned away quickly, but she saw the grin he was trying to hide as he moved to make her coffee.
“Should I put on a shirt?” he asked, a little more serious now, glancing back over his shoulder. “If it bothers you.”
“No, you’ve got some nice muscles on your back,” she blurted out without thinking. Frosty rested his head on her knee, looking up at her with his big eyes. “And you,” she added, giving the dog a playful glare, “are lucky you’re cute.”
Cregan placed the mug in front of her.
“Thanks for the compliment,” he said with a smirk.
“Thanks for the coffee,” she replied, feeling the tension melt a little.
Cregan sat across from her, watching her for a moment, an unreadable expression on his face.
“You look good,” he said finally, sounding genuine. “Want some breakfast?”
Suddenly, it hit her. She was here, no makeup, hair a mess, and still in her pajama pants. She cringed, remembering her earlier comment about his fucking back.
“Uh, no, I’m good,” she mumbled, suddenly self-conscious.
“Dinner, then? Later. With me. I know a place. If you’d like, of course,” Cregan suggested quickly, his tone slightly tentative.
(Y/N)’s eyes widened in surprise. Was he... blushing?
“Are you asking me out?”
He let out a soft laugh. “I’ve been trying to ask you out since the first time I saw you. Not sure if you noticed,” he admitted. Just then, Frosty went up to him and nudged the owner’s hand with his nose. “Oh, great, emotional support,” Cregan muttered, scratching the dog’s head affectionately.
(Y/N) couldn’t help but chuckle, shaking her head in disbelief. “Yes.”
“Yes?” he echoed, hopeful.
“Yes,” she affirmed, her heart racing. “Just let me know what time, and I’ll dress up.”
He flashed her that charming grin, but then his expression shifted. “I’ve got an appointment with a chihuahua that bites people. I’m actually not sure if I’m gonna make it.”
She liked him so much.
“Do you think it’d be alright if I kissed you before the date, Cregan?” 
“Oh, please do,” Stark replied, voice and expression desperate.
Without overthinking it, she ended up sitting on his lap, being kissed like there was no tomorrow. Held by the strongest pair of arms that were also so gentle.
Frosty placed an approving paw on Cregan’s leg.
Well done, human.
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meloyellow236 · 3 days
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The TWST boys write letters to Yuu/The Prefect!
All of them except for Ortho+Checka are meant to be interpreted as romantic, but many can be interpreted as platonic as well. The reader is gender-neutral, but more feminine adjectives will be used when referring to them. Rollo's part is fairly suggestive. Characters will probably be a bit OOC.
Minor spoilers for their respective books in each section, but I try to keep it as spoiler-free as I can, except for who overbloted. If anyone has any questions or comments, please leave an ask or comment :)
NRC:
Heartslabyul:  
Riddle Rosehearts - 
My dearest rose, 
You are the loveliest person I have ever known. It is a miracle that you chose to get to know me, and even more so after I hurt you and your friends so deeply. I have made many mistakes, but you, my rose, look past them. I understand that you may choose to go home one day, but even so... 
Please just give me a moment of your time, a fraction of your thoughts, and I’ll be satisfied. Any inch of you that I can get, I want, even if you still believe me a tyrant. If it pleased you- No, if it only made you look my way, I would gladly break any rule of the queen’s or my mother’s. Understand that, my rose, and I am sure you’ll know what remains unsaid in this letter. 
Yours Truly, 
Riddle Rosehearts 
Trey Clover - 
Prefect, 
Hello. I wanted to thank you, first and foremost, for helping out Heartslabyul so much. You’ve been a very good influence on Ace and Duece, and it’s nice to see Cater open up to someone. Not to mention, Riddle’s been improving every day. I can’t even describe how much you’ve helped me... I just hope you know that I’ll always be grateful for what you’ve done. You’re welcome at Heartsabyul at any time. I have some donuts waiting for you if you want. 
From, 
Trey. 
Cater Diamond - 
Prefect, 
Heyyy! Whatcha doing right now? I’m sooooo happy that you came to NRC even if, like, all of the housewarden’s tried to ratio you. I do not subscribe to that, BTW. #NotCool, #Yikes-A-Tron. But,  like... On a more serious note, I am happy that I got to know you. It’s nice to have someone I can just be myself around. No drama, no expectations, just... Yeah. I know that you’re gonna leave at some point, and it’s almost a relief. You’re honest about it, which is something that many can’t say. 
Ugh, that was probs TMI! I’m not trying to trauma dump here, oops. There’s this cute cafe that opened up downtown, totally Magicam-worthy. You wanna meet up there sometime? 
- Cay-cay ♦️  
Ace Trapolla - 
Prefect!! 
I need your help! So, Trein’s got this super hard test coming up on Friday- Like, Riddle-got-a-99-last-year level of hard. Yeah, that’s without the extra credit, but STILL! That’s failure to the tyrant! So, you’ve got to come over to Heartslabyul right now and help me study. Pleaseeeee!!!! I’ll owe you one! 
Oh, and don’t bring Grim. Deuce’s also got plans, there’s no need to ask him. You know, in case that matters to you. 
See ya, 
Ace 
Deuce Spade - 
Dear Prefect, 
Hello, how are you doing? Can you believe that it’s already been so long since we became friends? When we broke that chandelier, I was ready to never talk to you again... But now look at us! I’m on my way to becoming an honor student, and you’re working on finding your way home! I’m happy that you’re going to be able to go soon, I know how bad it feels not to be able to see your family (and probably friends in your case) after so long away, but also sad that you’ll be leaving us. 
I’ve got it! Let’s get your ghost camera, and we’ll take lots of photos of us all over campus! Two of each, so that way no matter what, both of us will always remember what we went through together. That sounds like a good idea, right? 
From, 
Duece 
Savanaclaw: 
Leona Kingscholar - 
Herbivore, 
Hey. You’re an idiot, you know that? You’re stupid and impulsive and don’t know when to quit or give up. That’s why you keep looking for me in the botanical gardens, right? You just don’t know when to stop. I’m sure that you’ll realize I’m not worth your effort soon enough. But until then, you have to come to see me more often. You’re my pillow, I don’t get good enough sleep if you’re not there. 
I’m in the usual place. Get over here as soon as possible. 
- Leona 
Ruggie Bucchi - 
Hiya, Prefect... 
I’ve been thinking, and you should let me come over to Ramshackle and fix the place up for you. No upfront cost, of course, but... I want the right to use the kitchen as I please, whenever I please. 
Why, you’re asking? Shishishi... Not telling. You’ve just got to trust me on this, I’ll make it worth your while. Then again, maybe I’ll just blow the kitchen up and you’ll have to live at Savanclaw again! That’d be fun, huh? 
If you don’t want me to, ya better give up your kitchen for a little while! I’ll get that microwave up and running again in no time.
- Ruggie 
Jack Howl - 
Dear Prefect, 
Hello, have you been feeling alright? I’ve noticed that Crowley isn’t the best provider of food. While on my morning runs, I’ve noticed Grim loudly talking about how he doesn’t have enough tuna. He does it pretty often. So, I’ve thought of a solution; You could try eating breakfast with me. I always get big portions, so you could have some. If you want, I could even try lifting you and carrying you places. I need to get better strength training anyway, and then you’ll have a buddy to get stronger with. It’s always better to have a friend with you. 
From, 
Jack 
Octavinelle: 
Azul Ashengrotto - 
My Pearl, 
Allow me to start this letter by saying that you are truly the crown jewel of my riches and that none can replace your beauty. You are the loveliest, most perfect little pearl, and I adore you with my whole heart. And yet, I cannot seem to convince myself that you feel the same. You say you do, and even if it is a crime to believe your lips hold lies, I cannot believe that to be true. If it was, why? Not just why you would tell me- A scheming man who has hurt you and your friends- that I hold the keys to your heart, but why you would choose what I hold underneath. I’m no good for you in terms of personality or how I look, and yet... You still hold me dear. And for that alone, I want to take you to the Coral Sea where my home lies, but not for a deal this time. Just... Because I want you and my mother in the same place. The two most important people to me meeting... That’s the best thing I can think of, to be honest. 
With Love, 
Azul Ashengrotto 
Jade Leech - 
Dearest Prefect, 
It has come to my attention that you haven’t had a chance to enjoy a proper mushroom dish since arriving in Twisted Wonderland. Now, that will not do for much longer. This letter should contain a box with three containers worth of mushroom dishes. You are to eat them and write back to me with what you thought of each of them. In return, I shall continue to provide you with free food. 
Do be warned, however, that they should all be eaten as fast as possible once you get them in case my brother chooses to throw them out. Also, so that way Grim cannot eat them. I would not recommend it for a cat.
Kind Regards, 
Jade Leech 
Floyd Leech - 
Shrimpy!!!!!! 
You and me. In the courtyard. Now. 
I’m going to squeeze you. 
🐬°˖𓍢✨໋ 🐋✧°.🐟⋆ 
🦐🥢🥢🥢🥢🧨 
I’ll see you later if you want me to or not. 
- Floyd <3333333 
Scarabia: 
Kalim Al-Asim - 
Hello!!!!
I love you!!! I love you, I love you, I love you! You’re the most wonderful person in this school, and you’ve done so much for both me and Jamil! It would be silly for me not to love you. I love how your hair looked in the wind when we went on that carpet ride, I love how you looked in the school’s uniform and how you looked when you tried on my dorms, and I love how you look no matter how you dress because you’re a beautiful person inside and out! I love you, and nothing can change that! (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) .ᐟ.ᐟ 
Hugs and kisses, 
Kalim Al-Asim 
P.S. Let’s go on another magic carpet ride soon, okay? I want to show you how pretty the moon looks when it’s full and you’re flying!
Jamil Viper - 
Dear Prefect,
Thank you for saving me when I overblotted. I am aware that what I did was wrong, and I apologize. I hope you can understand where I’m coming from. Either way, I feel as though I must do something more for you to show you that. Please come to Scarabia tonight. I will make you a special dinner if you do. Please, don’t tell Kalim. I want... something special, for the two of us this time. 
See you later, 
Jamil Viper
Pomefiore: 
Vil Schoenheit - 
My Dearest Potato, 
I regret to inform you that you have bewitched me. So much so that I willingly took on a role as a villain in this next movie. The villain falls in love with the hero’s love interest, and then, in a “shocking” turn of events, she chooses the villain to stand by. Of course, they’re both defeated, the hero gets with his childhood friend in some lesson of how love will always be waiting for you, whatever. But I still chose it, even if Neige plays the hero. 
I finally have a love interest, and they remind me of you. You could have stood by his side, you know. You should have. I poisoned him; That action speaks for itself. And yet, you decided to stay with me. Just like how that villain in this story gets the girl the hero originally wanted. 
I’ve won your heart as well, haven’t I? 
Sincerely, 
Vil Schoenheit 
Rook Hunt - 
Trickster, 
Bonjour, mon amour! I could not resist sending you another letter. You see my darling, I long for you like I long for the sunset on a hot day, for an oasis in a desert, for a hint of rain during the dry season, for the sun during the days when it pours. I'd imagine you'd taste like the rain as well, Trickster, and if given the chance, I'd taste again and again, in an attempt to satiate more than just my curiosity. 
Oh, Trickster, have you any idea how you’ve bewitched me? Why, just the sight of you is enough to send me spiraling, wishing for the smallest fraction of a chance that my affections are shared. How cruel is fate, to deny me the right to live and die within your arms? La petite mort would be heaven if it was with you, but death would truly come for me if it wasn’t. 
Je t'aime de tout mon coeur, 
Le Chasseur D'Armour 
Epel Felmeir - 
Prefect, 
I need some help. I found out that milk can make ya grow stronger, and also help you get taller. However, Vil has banned me from drinking it because I drank a carton in two days. Something about it raising my cholesterol or making me break out, I don’t care. So, I need to keep it at Ramshackle. That’s okay with you, right? Well, I sure hope it is, cause it’s getting in there if ya want it to or not! I’ll see ya soon, just make sure it’s in the fridge. I’ll get ya some of my family’s apple juice in return, it’ll be good. I reckon ya liked it last time. 
Epel 
Ignihyde: 
Idia Shroud - 
Prefect, 
Get to my room, and fast. There’s an event taking place, and I need a player two. This one requires another person to be in the same room, so I can’t ask any of my mutuals, and you’re the only one I trust with this. I can’t ask Ortho either, don’t ask why. 
Also I recently got pink lights in my room like those normies. That’s why everything looks kind of pink, it’s not my hair. Just in case you were wondering if I was embarrassed or whatever, you’re wrong. Just get over here ASAP, no time to waste. 
- Gloomurai 
Ortho Shroud - 
Hello, how are you? ( ˵ •̀ ᴗ •́˵) I am very happy to get a chance to talk with you. I have recently learned how to type out these little faces called ‘kaomoji’ that my big brother loves. Here are some of my favorites: 
♡✧( •⌄• ) 
ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ 
•ω• 
ᓚ₍ ^. .^₎ - This one is a cat! 
I would like to share more with you. Please come to Ignihyde so I can teach you how to get them on your phone as well. I can provide free updates while you’re here if needed. (✿˶◕‿◕˶人◕ᴗ◕✿) 
Date: XX/XX/XXXX 
Return Email: [email protected] 
Diasomnia: 
Malleus Dracona - 
My Dearest Child Of Man, 
If Longing was painful, how much farther would I have to fall to crash and burn at your feet? The only answer I can give is that I already would have. I would build monuments in your name and would offer you the world and more if only you would say you loved me back. 
Could this be considered love? Could these feelings I hold deep within my heart, only to divulge in the darkest hours of the night with none but the stars and you to bear witness to my passion, be a form of love? Or is this simply my yearning, a longing for your heart, and wanting to have someone to call my own? 
The moment I laid eyes on you, I knew that you were the one I wanted next. How I wish I could scream your name from the rooftop, and raise my voice in song only to sing your praises. You have the face of an angel, and I am sure that you must have the mind of one as well, for even if the voices in your head remind you of nothing more than pain and suffering, they have still been able to mold you into the perfection you are today. But maybe you have devils as well, trying to smite you as you sleep, but just as I do all of your angels, I will pick them up and kiss their heads if they are a part of someone I care for so much. You are perfection, Child of Man, and this dragon wishes only to live with the crumbs of affection as my treasures. 
Yours Until The End Of Eternity, 
Prince Malleus Dracona Of Briar Valley Hornton 
Lilia Vanrouge - (Okay so for Lilia I could have SWORN that he calls the prefect ‘Beastie,’ but I can find that nowhere. Literally at all, no one seems to have used it for him, but I know that I’ve seen at least one person do it. I now think that it’s a headcanon thing but I’m not sure, if anyone knows who did this or if it’s canon, please tell me. I’ve been searching for far too long and I am in too deep.)
Beastie, 
Hello, my darling~! I have an easy-peasy little request for you, m’kay? You just need to travel over to Diasomnia, and then... I’ll make you a meal! Malleus has been out trying to find this one gargoyle on campus all day since I brought up wanting to learn a new recipe, and Sebek and Silver both ran off earlier to go help him. I don’t know how to tell them that the gargoyle they’re looking for definitely isn’t at Night Raven College. Raising kids is quite hard, especially when things like this come up... 
But you’ll be there for me, won’t you, Beastie? Pretty please? I’ll see you tonight if you want to, a little date if you feel up to it. Mwah! 
xoxo, 
Lilia 
Silver “Vanrouge” - 
Dear Prefect, 
I had the most wonderful dream. I think I did, at least. I can’t remember it, but I remember how familiar these eyes were, and I knew it was you as soon as I awoke. And I know it's true, that dreams are seldom what they seem... But if I know how you are, then I know what you'll do; You'll look at me the same way you did once upon inside my dreams. And tell me all about the animals that you found with me when I awoke. What I wouldn’t give to hear you tell me about every birdie that comes to me; I’d be willing to fall asleep in the forest every day if only to hear you cooing to the birds when I come to. I wonder if each little bird has someone to sing sweet things to, a little love melody like what I long to play for you one day. Well, either way, I’m growing sleepy now. The effects of my curse will soon be on me once more. I’ll see you either later today or tomorrow, depending on how long I’m asleep. If you need me or simply wish to keep me company, I’m currently resting in the woods. 
Best Wishes, 
Silver 
Sebek Zigvolt - 
HUMAN! 
I have something to show you; A new notebook to be filled, gifted to me by Master Lilia. He said that it is a ‘scrapbook’, which humans fill up with pictures and drawings of themselves and their friends. To fulfill the purpose of this illustrious gift, you must come to Diasomnia at once! You shall be the first of the first years to be added, along with Silver. Prepare enough of those photographs you have to fill half of the book. The other shall be dedicated to Wakasama! 
Sincerely, 
Sebek Zigvolt  
RSA+NBC: 
Che’nya - 
Prefect... 
When are you going to visit RSA, huh? It would be purrr-fect to get a chance to see you again. You’re quite the pretty purr-son, dontcha think? Or maybe I’ll just drop by at the next unbirthday party... Riddle and Trey would like that, but I wonder what you’d think. Hum-hum-hummm... 
Kitty Kisses, 
Artemiy Artemiyevich Pinker <3 
Neige Leblanche - (The Reader is called NRC’s ‘princess’ in this one, but not called a woman or anything)
My Dearest, 
Hello! How are you fairing? Have you been doing okay since the VDC? I know that you looked pretty shaken up back then, so I wanted to make sure that you’ve been okay. After all, you’re NRC’s princess! As far as I can tell, anyway. I’m happy that there’s someone around Vil like you, he always looked like he needed a good cheering up. And you’re like a fairytale! Such pretty hair and eyes and skin; Oh, I’d ride away with you on a white horse if I could! 
Ah, that’s odd to say to someone I don’t know very well, isn’t it? I’m sorry, that’s my fault. You still want to be friends, right? If you do, please come visit me at some point. Or, just send me a letter back. I’ll make sure that you get priority over any fan letter. 
Love, 
Neige Leblanche 
Rollo Flamme - (Kinda sugesstive) 
Mon Amour, 
There are times I wish I could tear you down and take you apart only to sew you back together. Rip you to shreds only to tenderly put each piece back where it should be. Drink from you until there's nothing left and then fill you up with all of the love I could offer, make you mine and mine alone. Those greedy thoughts shouldn't even make their way onto this paper, shouldn’t even be in my head, and yet here I am, penning them in a letter never to be sent. 
I truly wish you never see these letters, for I'd hate to be the reason your face turns to disgust, even if for a moment. Of course, I don't regret writing them. You will never read them, after all, but I believe I should get my thoughts out like this rather than bottle them up, lest I do something stupid and let you see them. I pray that you will never have to see me in a state like how I write to you, over my bedside table in the dead of night, eyes barely open and breath still recovering from dreams of a sweeter pleasure than I should sully your name with. 
I mention those dreams I have of you a lot, it seems, although I mean it in the most innocent way possible. Ever since I met you, you've infested my dreams and wormed your way into my heart like a parasite I can't rid myself of. My dreams are all of the sweet moments I have longed for and never gotten. I only have eyes for you, after all, and a saint may never lie with a sinner, lest they become one as well. 
Bonus: 
Checka Kingscholar - 
To Perfect, 
Hello! I am Checka Kingscholar. I am fiv years old. I like my unca. I like my dad and I love my mom. I love you! Goodbye! •ᴗ•
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badaseyebags · 2 days
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hi hru?? ur amazingg
can i request a bada smut, when she comes back from dance class clingy and horny, but reader is cooking (idk, just doing something) and has to finish?
if u dont want/cant write this, its totally ok, dont feel bad and dont pressure yourself too much. love youuuu<333
but first.. dessert ⋆。°✩ birthday cake
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
warnings: whiny/needy bada, she’s basically desperate, lots of making out, low-key cringe my apolocheese, it’s cute but it’s also not, bada herself.
word count: 1,5k
authors note: hi dear anon, first of all i would like to apologise for taking so so long to finish writing your request, and also hope you don’t mind me turning this into a birthday piece and not writing full on smut just yet! thank you for requesting, feel free to leave feedback (very appreciated) requests open <3
it’s currently 3 pm and bada’s class doesn’t end until 3:45, meaning she won’t be able to get home anywhere before 5pm. which means.. almost another hour or so of torture. the torture being her not being able to get her hands all over you as she would really wishes she could right now. all she has to do is distract herself for the time being before she can fulfil her wishes. simple enough, right? well it would be, if it wasn’t for the dizzying heat spreading trough out her whole body ..and for the naughty visions she created of you causing her to feel this way. if she could take you right now, right here in her studio, she would. no questions asked. no hesitation. she wouldn’t even care to shut the door, too impatient to get a feel, a taste, a touch, or anything she can. the way she would bend you over and watch you take her from behind and- okay, no. this was getting harder by minute. sometimes she’s thankful she wasn’t born a man, because she would have a “harder” time physically masking what you do to her almost 24/7.
the more she tried “distracting” herself, the more need she ended up feeling towards you. shaking her thoughts off, she continued showing off her dance skills, her movements becoming even more sensual than they usually tend to be. not that anyone minded, they were used to this by now. heck, they even appreciated it if they had to be honest. seeing her grind on the floor and smack the air was nothing out the norm, anyone would of thought she was just in her element. what they didn’t know was that she was imagining you under her the whole time, her cap covering her dark eyes that held nothing but lust at the moment. after what felt like long years it was finally time for her to leave. she didn’t even stay behind for a little talk session with her students as she usually does, politely excusing herself and dashing out the door. she was practically sprinting towards her car, hands gripping the steering wheel tightly, making her knuckles turn white. she had one priority right now and that’s all that mattered.
meanwhile you were in the kitchen trying to be a sweet good girlfriend for bada, preparing a little birthday surprise for her. not that the breakfast you prepared for her this morning and brought to bed wasn’t enough, or you feeding it to her as her grin grew wider. but you really wanted to surprise her when she comes back. she shouldn’t be home for at least 30 minutes or more like a hour that she usually spends chatting in her studio after her classes. it’s her birthday after all and you’re sure her students won’t let her go so quickly without wishing her all the best and more. you planned to dress up real pretty for her once you finish baking, and according to the clock you still had plenty of time. you were currently wearing nothing but one of bada’s oversized shirts that didn’t do much to cover your body, stopping just in the middle of your thigh, and a cute little apron on top to prevent it from getting dirty as you decorated the first batch of your strawberry vanilla cupcakes, the other still baking in the oven. you had this cute little idea of assembling the cupcakes in the shape of a full cake. it would save a lot of hassle cutting uneven cake slices, you thought. you sigh, sleepily wiping your forehead with the back of your whipped cream covered hand, given that you’ve started baking right after bada’s tall figure left the door just so you could get everything ready in time.
your soft humming to the beat of the song playing in the background was interrupted by an abrupt sound of keys jingling, followed by the handle being turned. you turned your head in surprise blinking in confusion, heart dripping to your feet. feeling a little embarrassed and caught off guard since you wanted all of this to be a surprise, well.. it would of been, if you’ve gotten the chance to finish it. you didn’t even get the chance to fully turn around to face her, to give her a proper greeting before she eloped you in a tight back hug, her large arms securely wrapping themselves around your waist. a place they almost belonged. you could feel her, smell her, and even hear her before you could see her.
“bada! is it 5 already?” you turn your head slightly to get a peek at her unusually out of breath self. she’s in very good shape it’s not likely seeing her so out of breath, unless she just finished dancing, or in this case ran to her to you faster. she just shakes her head, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple making your heart flutter. “no no baby, i just couldn’t wait to get home..” she buries her face in your neck, inhaling your scent giving you goosebumps, her voice dropping a little lower. your ears perk up as you suddenly notice her breathing much heavier then usual, her sweaty hands gripping onto your waist a little more possessively than you’re used to. you tried to keep your composure and continue decorating cupcakes, acting as if nothing was going on, but bada’s strange behaviour had your head spinning.
was she… in the mood or something? your suspicions further confirmed themselves as the innocent sniffing turned into rushed pecks to your neck, gradually transforming to soft nibbles and messy kisses. your movements came to a halt, eyes widening as you heard her whine against your skin. “please.. i need you so bad… i had to come home early because i couldn’t help myself.” your hands grip the piping bag out of instinct, causing some of it to spill on the counter and all over your hand. “you’re gonna let me have you right… you’re gonna let me take you… please baby say you will.” she growled into your ear, her hands slowly sliding down your hips and under the thin fabric covering your skin.
“bada i.. i have to finish this, it was supposed to be a surprise-“ you weakly mumble as you feel her large hands rub over the bare skin of your hips. “let me finish you first… you didn’t even wear panties? is that another surprise for me? please, let me have a taste..” she was practically begging at this point, her chest pressed tightly against your back. you couldn’t hold back anymore, turning around to face her was a huge mistake. seeing her in this state only made you weak in the knees. her wavy hair all messed up, sticky bangs pressed against her forehead. cheeks flushed, sweaty clothes sticking to her skin, chest rising up and down with her glossy eyes staring at you with pure desperation. you look up at her admiring her beauty as you cup her cheek, some of the whipped cream leaving a stain behind. she was quick to catch it, her tongue sticking out to lick the remains of the sugary cream as she held your hand against it, moaning softly as she closed her eyes. you’ve decided you had enough, you couldn’t even handle it anymore. with little effort you pulled her face to your level, catching her off guard. her hands fell on the counter behind you, successfully trapping you in the middle as you gave her the softest most gentle loving kiss and pulled away. she whines leaning into another kiss but you pull away again with a gentle giggle to tease her, just to rile her up more.
she huffs as she grips your hips, effortlessly lifting you up on the counter. one of her hands cups your jaw and the other rests on your thigh as she forces herself between them, crashing her lips against yours. this kiss being anything but gentle, unlike the previous one. your arms instinctively wrap around her neck to pull her in closer. she suddenly bites down on your bottom lip, making you shriek but all she does is shiver and kisses you harder, her lips sliding down your jaw and all the way to your neck, painting it in multiple hues of red and purple. you grip onto her hair, partly to make her slow down and partly because you wanted more. “bada slow down, what are you doing-” you lean your head back nonetheless giving her more access to your neck, skilled hand undoing the messy bow of your apron. “decorating my cake before i get to taste it.” she mumbles against your skin, nipping harder as she tosses the apron aside. her kisses trail up higher once again, her voice soon interrupted by the sound of the oven timer going off, her lips swallowing all and any protests before they could ever leave yours.
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madockisser · 24 hours
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cardan/nicasia: why they’ll never happen again analysis/speculation
a while back i saw someone (or rather, a thread of ppl saying that they hope cardan and nicasia don’t get it on in the next book which is supposed to be nicasias book (supposedly) and i even saw someone say they WISH THEY DO ?!
so here’s your fun reminder of what nicasia put cardan through!
I’ve gathered together all the shit nicasia did to cardan: being the first girl he loved then breaking his heart w his friend, allowing cardan to catch them ON HIS BEDROOM FLOOR. (not entirely her fault but she totally had shits and giggles abt it when cardan confronted her) then when Locke screwed her over, she got CARDAN and his power as prince, to harass the girl(s) locke chose over her, one of which cardan liked, then later on was trying to manipulate him to marry her (which i think is when cardan realized they weren’t rly even friends anymore), THEN kidnapping and torturing the girl she knew cardan loved, AND befriending his abusive neglectful mother!
like damn. how u even fumble that bad, not just romantically but as a friend.
also I’d like to add her consistent entitlement, not just the whole “i bully girls bc I’m a princess and i can!” but the “cardan take me back even after i emotionally ruined you multiple times!” 😐
poor cardan
anyway, I’ve read lots of holly black books, and she is VERY mindful w abusive sort of relationships. and cheating relationships. she writes about them a LOT and each time they are pretty irredeemable.
note(the only exceptions):Taryn and hazel (darkest part of the forest) who sorta cheated on accident/ it wasn’t their fault-> but didn’t end well
add on note sorry: “but nicasia cheated on cardan on accident bc Locke was a gancanagh!” false! nicasia admitted that what her and Locke were doing was prolonged, the scene that cardan finds them is not their first time screwing around. nicasia KNOWINGLY cheated on cardan. then she was like “ok but i still care abt u! take me back” ?
now you can say that it could sorta be classified as an accident due to lockes natures (which are actually really disturbing if u think abt it) and that’s true, i never blamed nicasia for that relationship, but i do blame her for all the utter dogshit she not only put cardan thru, but Jude.
and this is cardan we are talking about. he who killed half an army for Jude when madoc tried taking his daughter back (sounds funny out of context).
we must remember that cardan does not want Jude hurt and humiliated and that’s exactly what nicasia went and did to Jude. through all the books bro. nicasia literally kidnapped and tortured Jude in the undersea so there’s 0 chance of cardan touching nicasia unless maybe to turn her into a tree again (but he can always just do that at a distance 😛)
anyway back to the cheating:
which is why i know that holly would never pull any sort of bull w cardan and nicasia, and you may be thinking (well that’s bullshit what do u know?) 3 separate books w cheating tropes, and 5+ diff relationships that involve cheating w no redemption. LOL
anyway black and i certainly agree on that front, and the way she uses the trope so consistently, and makes it so the cheaters are never endgame, or have a horrible death (Locke AND his mom, also Eva Duarte 😭the dude Ben dated from dpotf, and Kaye and that guy Janet was dating, Val and Tom and dave and lolli (modern faerie tales)) is pretty telling!
holly is great at writing healthy relationships, and she knows that tcp is her biggest hit w the media, so she won’t go and fuck that, not just bc she would never and it’s out of her writing style and character and literally moral compass when it comes to writing relationships, but also bc her publishers/editors would NEVER let that slide.
but i can’t wait for her book! i love knowing that nicasia will never have a chance w cardan again, it’s no less than what she deserves 😋
anyway sorry for ranting! I just feel so strongly abt this topic, cardan would never cheat on Jude, since he’s been cheated on before, and it was heart wrenching, and bc of his upbringing, he would never. if you haven’t, go thru my masterlist in my pinned and find the cardan /nicasia thing where i explain why he wouldn’t cheat far better there!
But feel free to add on, i probably missed a few things so lmk!! 🫶
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itsalwaysagirl · 4 months
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I need to lay down
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rosicheeks · 23 days
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how is the sale going?
🙃🙃🙃🙃
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seilon · 29 days
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pro: ran into a coworker at a bar last night who I don’t really talk to usually (he works upstairs, I work downstairs) and we talked and im pretty sure we were highkey flirting and he bought me a drink and the bar merch shirt i was interested in and thanks to the power of alcohol i guess i asked for his number and he gladly gave it to me and. yeah
con: i have the second worst hangover i have ever had and have been fighting for my fucking life just to eat saltines
#it’s getting better but only now that it’s like. 6pm#as weird as it sounds part of why this sucks is that I volunteered to come into work today cause there’s a concert going on nearby which#usually means we’re at least somewhat busy -> make better tips#and I couldn’t go in because well. you know#I’ve been sick and dying in bed all day unable to move or eat or anything#let alone take the bus and go to work#but. as much as I wish I didn’t go this overboard I don’t totally regret last night cause.#yeah. potential thing going on with cute coworker guy. OH and potential job opportunity at my favorite bar in town#apparently said coworker Also has a job at the bar in addition to where we both work and the bar is hiring barbacks at entry-level#so I have someone to vouch for me and the bartender we were talking to seemed to really want me to apply too#one thing that’s kinda funny to me about all this is that the first two places (a bar then a club) we were at felt really mid because they#were packed with way too many straight people (at a gay bar and a gay club)#but the bar we ended up at (where we ALWAYS end up at. it is the oasis. it is the only thing I can rely on) felt. like. not overwhelmingly#straight? at all? I mean part of it’s just luck in a way with just who happened to be there and all that but it’s also that the staff seem#pretty significantly populated with queer ppl#I complained to the bartender about how the club we were at (one of the biggest gay clubs in the city- if not The biggest) just felt kinda#meh because yeah maybe there were some guys dancing in jockstraps and whatever but the crowd itself like. did not feel largely queer#or at least didn’t have the spirit I’d hope for in a queer space if that makes sense. felt very conventional. not enough wild outfits and#makeup and gender fuckery and so on#and the bartender was like dude I KNOW right? I went off outside there once about the invasion of cishets when this space isn’t FOR them#and so on and so forth. and god that was So real.#so the experience at my beloved bar last night was like. 1) guy comes up behind me just to order a drink but i was saving a seat for my#friend who was in the bathroom and mentioned that in case he was looking to take the seat. chatted a little. ended with him pointing out#that a guy nearby was trying to holla at me.#2) I look over and yes. the dj is. in fact. looking directly at me and mouthing the lyrics to whatever song was playing pointed my way.#it was pretty sweet honestly I think it was partly cause I looked like I was shy and alone#3) whatever gay shit was going on with my coworker and i. amusingly he seems to get more flamboyant when he drinks just like i do.#im not 100% sure what his sexuality is but i Am 100% sure it is Not straight. but yeah. if it hadn’t been so close to closing time ive been#hardcore wondering where that would’ve gone. maybe its for the best that i had to go when i did cause i was pretty drunk and who knows when#I could’ve hit the amount of drunk it takes to like outright say hey just so you know i’d suck your dick right now if you wanted
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designernishiki · 1 year
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well. finished yakuza 5.
#not gonna go into all my thoughts right now because it’s A LOT but#the ending was pretty good overall like I got my little complaints here and there but overall I was pretty satisfied#the choice of final boss (for kiryu) was narratively pretty half assed but. I’ll let it slide because that fight was fun#i feel like shinada deserved more closure in the baseball realm of things#and I feel like majima should’ve had at least ONE conversation with katsuya at the end#I would’ve liked to see kiryu reunite with him as well but. you know#majima and saejima’s conclusion was also pretty open ended and not clear but yeah. idk just a lot of threads#that don’t feel like theyre tied yet#but despite how it sounds the story of 5 i overall liked quite a bit#it’s interesting that my friend really doesn’t like that there isn’t a singular Big Bad Villain that’s known from the start more or less#like in most games but I kinda feel the exact opposite in that I like the mystery and finding out who’s pulling the strings and all that#a lot of the characters in this game in general are very strong despite some being totally newly introduced#like I liked katsuya and watase and madarame and I’m forgetting his name but shinada’s loan shark#I liked aizawa alot up until the end where they pulled what they pulled and now I’m conflicted cause that was. weird. but yeah#OH and baba of course#idk alot of supporting characters felt really 3 dimensional to me#shinada’s great and very lovable and I’m very sad he doesn’t come back in 6 or anything m#I liked haruka’s ending generally too because she basically did exactly what I was hoping for#which is realizing her own dream and all that and not just doing the whole idol thing just to live out mirei’s ideal life#haruka finally getting to make her OWN choice that kiryu or mirei or anyone can’t interfere with#that was good that was very good#rambling#y5
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waltricia · 6 months
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I genuinely love this candle symbolism.
For her, it’s been burning. For him, it’s finally igniting.
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( And actually his candle is already low and a liiittttle bit lit, implying the love was always there, burning so low as to not be noticed, but surely burning nonetheless 🔥♥️ )
Edit: I let this go on long enough. I’m putting an editor’s note on it. As we should all know by now, this symbolism is what the season 3 part 1 trailer was trying to convey. In the show, Colin’s candle shot is reversed. The candle goes out. Of course this can mean different things, but I believe we can all basically agree, given the context of the scene, that he’s recognizing his time is running out. His hope of being with Penelope is slipping away.
Yeah, I felt like a bit of a clown when I saw the scene and it turned out this post, which had already garnered thousands of notes by then, turned out to be a total fuckin fabrication. But how was I supposed to know the team that cut the trailer would reverse a shot??
Yes, it is still basically true- she was always in love him and he finally fell in love with her. Something was always there for him with her, but really he didn’t start falling for her until he started seeing her as a woman and they kissed and, ya know, here we are.
But anyway, my basic point is this: trust no one. Don’t trust me. Definitely do not trust the Bridgerton trailer editors. Just stay vigilant, alright?
I release you from the burden of liking and reblogging this post. Be free!
And enjoy Bridgerton 💚🐝
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hoshigray · 6 months
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Satoru and Suguru having a competition over who can impregnate their sweet shared lover first, please?
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𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: oh my goodness???....you got my attention.
⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Geto + Gojo x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - canon divergence; implied geto is still a jujutsu tech sorcerer - satosugu taking turns with you - kissing; making out - lotus (geto) + eagle (gojo) positions - breeding kink - scratching - multiple orgasms - unprotected sex (psa: wrap it up, of get tf up) - cervix fucking - creampies - clitoral play (swiping) - pet names (angel, baby, my love, pretty girl, princess, sweetheart) - humor - mention of drool + heavy depictions of come/semen.
⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.1k
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“Oooh—Haahh! Ohhh, God, Suguu, y’ feel so good…!”
“You feel good, too, princess...Hgghh! Shit, Y/n—“
“Yo, can you hurry it up? You know I’m not a patient guy, Suguru.”
Gojo sucks his teeth while watching you get it on with Geto. It was one of those nights when they’d come home and surprise you together. Usually, one would be assigned longer shifts or missions (that one mostly being Gojo), and the other would return home to eat dinner and sleep with you. But there would be those days when they’d arrive home in unison and try to do whatever they can to have you enjoy these rare moments with all three of you.
Sometimes, it would be Gojo taking you guys to some delicious café that sells parfaits that you’d probably like or Geto having the idea to have lunch at the park and enjoy the sun together. But, of course, there’d be those days when simply being inside the apartment, talking about each other’s day, watching a random movie, and then snoring while spooning would suffice. Because it doesn’t matter what they choose to do; all three of you being at the same place is always the best!
Tonight, however, was one of those nights where they’d pull you aside, drown you in kisses and gropes, and carry you to the bedroom for a more intimate occasion. For tonight, Geto and Gojo wanted to fuck you in the hopes you’ll be with child. And what better way for the two best friends to go about such an eventful issue than by a competition to see who can fill you up the most? 
Suguru has you propped on his crossed lap, your arms wrapped around his neck, and his hands kneading your asscheeks as you bounce on his cock and wail out his name in pretty notes. This was about the third round of the night, your cunt wet and filled with both Geto’s and Gojo’s cum. The fluids stream down with every jump of your hips from the base of his girth to his balls, the sounds of your union so filthy with the groans and moans that bounce around the bedroom walls. 
Geto sighs and burrows his chin into your shoulder. “Hahhh, oh, stop your crying, Satoru. You finished your turn and didn’t hear me heckle while you and Y/n were doing it.”
The white-haired man grunts with more complaints, to Geto’s dismay. “Yeah, well, I’m not the one who takes longer to finish,” he persists, even if his raven-haired friend frowns. “I don’t want you to be the reason my dick falls asleep.”
“Tch, what you should be worrying about is finishing too quickly when it’s your turn. You act like being faster is better…Heh, maybe you can’t handle Y/n better than I do.”
“You son of a—“
“Hey now,” you’re the one who mediates the growing childish tension between your husbands, turning your face to lock Gojo in a spell with your gorgeous, hooded eyes. “Be nice, Toru; it’s Sugu’s turn now, so you can have me however you want when we’re done here, okay?”
Like a heart-struck fool, pink shades creep into the helix of Gojo’s ears as he happily complies with your request. “Okay, my princess.”
Geto rolls his eyes at his friend’s display; what a total loser. As if he has room to talk because once you turn back to face him and kiss his cheek, his breath hitches. “Come on,” you whisper. “Don’t let him ruin your fun.”
The dark-haired one chuckles before claiming your lips with his, “Wouldn’t dream of it, angel.”
As you two kiss, you rock your hips more to create a steady rhythm on top of Geto. His girth stretches your vagina nicely, and with his pulsing veins, you can feel them rub on the velvety texture of your inner walls. It’s good that the pace is at a respectable tempo, allowing you to feel him at your wits and pleasure truly.
But the best part of this position is how easy it is to stimulate your clitoris. Every time you rock your hips against Geto’s, the bulb rubs against his body and has your frame jolting. It feels so fucking good, having your cunt stuffed with his girth member and graze your walls deliciously while your precious button is being pressed.
The pacing soon goes in sync, his subtle thrusts as you bounce your ass on him while kissing. Your mewls are taken by his hungry lips, sucking on your tongue to evoke more cute noises, your hand coming to the back of his head to massage and grab strands of his onyx hair. He’s so romantic with you and your body, the position making this intimacy so much more personal. Your chasm frequently clamps on his cock when you pull your waist up, making the man below you hiss at the grip.
He breaks the kiss, “Shit, you tighten around me so nicely…”
“Really?” You giggle, laying more kisses on his cheek and ears. It sends shivers down his spine. 
“—Khhh, damn it, I can’t...” Suddenly, Geto thrusts upwards in a faster notion, and you scream to hold on quickly and follow his cadence. “Fuck, you feel too amazing, sweetheart…!” You can’t reply to him appropriately; your only responses are narrowed down to high-pitched whines and squeals. His hands wrap around your back to keep your body close as he chases his climax, his hot face melting with the sweat of your shoulder while he pushes his cock to meet your cervix. “Hmng! Hmmnn, I’m gonna cum, baby…!”
“Ohooo, me too, Sug’ruu, me—Tahhh! Ohhh, Jesus…!” Your clit keeps bumping onto Geto, your nerves getting activated with every rut. Shaky moans leave your puffy lips, and your hand scratches his back at every jab of your delicate cervix. You bring him in for another kiss – this one a lot more rushed and steamy – and your orgasm hits you both from the erratic speed of your hips.
You two sigh heavily into each other’s mouths, your body sinking into Geto’s gentle hold as his cock ejaculates his semen into your throbbing slit. His hands massage your back while his pelvis rolls to grind his dick and have your walls clench onto him more.
With a soft sound, you remove your lips from his, smiling gently while you brush his bangs off to view his left eye. “You love to finish strong, Sugu.”
He chuckles before kissing your nose. “Can’t help it if you drive me crazy, my love—“
“Alright, round’s over!” 
Before Geto knows it, Gojo’s already on the bed, yanking you off his best friend’s lap and laying you down with your back to the sheets. He voices his discontent, trying not to appear too upset. “Excuse you? Can’t let me have a moment?”
“Nope!” He shoves a middle finger to Geto’s face, and the black-headed one almost pops a vessel. “I practically went limp after watching you two for so long. So obverse from the side and let me have my fun.”
“So annoying,” Geto mumbles under his breath, yet the milky-haired one chooses not to listen with a huff and places all his attention on you.
“Now,” Gojo turns to you with half-lidded cerulean eyes, a smile beaming too much that his dimples show up. He spreads your legs to evince your messy chasm; Geto’s come spilling down to the crevice of your butt as he massages your inner thighs. Fuck, so fucking nasty, it had him bite his lip. “You ready for more of me, baby?”
You titter, bringing your legs up your chest and spread to a V-shape. “Yes, Toru, thank you for being patient.”
He snickers while pushing his glans to meet your soapy folds, humming when the excessive come lubes your labia sufficiently for his cock to be inserted. The hug of your walls makes him moan, and you jerk as his left curve scratches the plush itch. “Fuuuuck, so warm and tight for me, baby.” 
His arms support your legs in the air, and the position allows him to initiate with slow thrusts. Your purr at his movements; the curve has you howl with every push, stretching your pussy when he propels himself into you and rubs the upper wall of your vagina. Oh God, feels so fucking good…
You peer to where his dick is plunging into your cunt, silently awing at the mussy display of cum ringing around the base of his shaft and stringing to where your folds are. Holy shit, you chew on your bottom lip and move a hand to finger your clit, silently howling at the swipes you dance around your bud. “OhhhGod, hmmmm, right there…”
Gojo looks down and sees what you’re doing, and he chuckles, “Shit, you enjoying yourself, pretty girl? Hmm?” He ruts into you with sudden haste, and an abrupt hit to your cervix has you almost choking on air. “Like being filled up, huh?”
“Ahhh, y–yesss, I lov—Mmmph!!” He grinds his pelvis down, drilling his length deep inside to scuff your smooth walls. “I love y’r dick so much, Satoruuu…!”
“Awww, look at you playing with yourself,” the view excited him more, increasing his speed to pound into you. You cry out at the poke of your cervix, clamping onto him in response. “Ahhhh, there it is,” he coos while adding more weight onto you, making his rocks precise where he wants to hit. More shrieks fly out your lips, “Wanna be bred so bad, princess? Want me to fill you up again?”
Your head aches, ears ringing from the sloppy sounds of his dick rutting inside you, his balls smack your grundel with every push. “Ahhnn, mmoohhh, ye’sss,” you whisper.
“C’mon, angel, let me hear you.” Gojo places his forehead on your sweaty one, azure eyes examining your expression in a haze. “You want—Nnngh! Fuck…Want me to fuck a baby into you, yeah? Make you a mama? ”
“Yess, ’Toru, yesss!! Give me y’ur babiess, make me all fat and full!!”
“Heh, good, pretty girl; so good for—Khhckk!! Shit, shit, I’m gonna cum…” He brings his lips to yours, moaning to the kiss with you while his hips turn up to a volatile rate. Your whimpers are sucked and drunk by him, your eyebrows furrowed from the cyclical hits to your cervix and rubbing on your silky tunnel.  
Your arms come around to his shoulders, beckoning him to deepen the kiss as your body gets ready for the orgasm that hits you like a train. Trembles climb up your frame, whines muffled, and drool slips out your mouth down to your chin. Your cunt contracts around his length, milking him into his own release and filling you with his essence, adding to the pile that squelches and trickles down to the sheets beneath you. 
Gojo nibbles on your lip as he pumps every last bit of his load into you, his tongue twirling with yours until he removes his face from yours. He smiles, dimples greeting you with disheveled strands of snow-white hair sticking to his forehead. Too distracted by his charm for him to sneak in more harsh thrusts to your aching frame. 
You gasp aloud, “—Ohooo! Satoru, nooo! I’m too sensitive nowww..!!”
“Mmmm, sorry, princess,” an apology with a smile doesn’t match, placing a kiss on your forehead as you wail for him while he ruts into your vulnerable slit. “You just feel too good, can never get enou—Owwww!!”
“What do you think you’re doing?”
Witness to the entire thing, Geto smacks Gojo with a house slipper before pulling him off you and throwing him to the side. The blue-eyed man looks at the other with an annoyed face. “I should be asking you the same thing, you psycho; what’s with the assault!?”
“Did you forget? Your turn is up,” indigo eyes narrow with a dark glint. “So why are you still moving?”
“Oh, quit yapping, giant earlobes! Can’t a guy squeeze in a few more before I get off…Or what, you scared I’d make them pregnant first? Your frail soldiers can’t compete with mine, is that it?” 
“Hah, you tell me, blue-eyed snowflake; you’re the one still trying to fuck into them like you’re afraid your load isn’t enough. Poor guy; can’t be a sore loser too early, now.”
“Choke on my dick!”
“You first.”
The two bicker back and forth while you observe, unable to find the right cue to intervene as you’re still in a daze. You sit on your side, feeling the liquids inside you exit your frame and slide down your thighs.
As they fight, you remember that you had forgotten to tell them that you took a birth control pill earlier today after they texted about returning home together. It wasn’t until after dinner that they said they wanted to try and fuck and fill you to the brim, practically dragging you to the room before you could utter a word to them about the contraceptive.
…Oh well, surely they don’t mean to have a baby right this moment. Plus, there will be other times! So, for now, you watch your husbands argue before you while shaking your head with a smile.
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requests/thirsts are open hehe~ 🧸
© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ header edit done by me + dividers by @/benkeibear.
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adelheidvonschicksal · 8 months
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The Love and Deepspace Boys Trying to Get You to Sleep ⋆。°✩
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Tags: Fluff, teasing, needy boys, mild sexual content, gender neutral reader (I had to re-write so please let me know if I messed up.)
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
Xavier is surprisingly softer than you expected when you first met him on your mission together. He’s an incredibly powerful hunter but possesses a quiet and gentle, almost oblivious, aura when navigating everyday life, like a ghost floating through the space he takes up. It should also be understood that this very nature of his makes him affectionate, so much so, that he won’t unwrap his arms around your waist and stop pressing his head to your shoulder as you sit at the kitchen bar, typing on your laptop.
“Are you planning on staying up later than the stars?” he mumbles.
There’s a gentle yawn against your skin from the sluggish man, highlighting just how long he’s been trying to coax you into going to bed.
“I wanted to finish this report for work.”
“The report will be there tomorrow,” he says. You swat away his hand that reaches for the power button on the laptop causing him to pout. He grumbles. “You should go to bed. Otherwise, I can’t sleep.”
Smiling to yourself, you decide to tease him. “Oh, so you’re really trying to get me to go to bed for your own benefit?”
“Well, you can’t very well expect me to do it by myself anymore.” Xavier nuzzles his head into the slope of your neck, cuddling you. “It’s your responsibility since you ruined my sleeping habits.”
“Ruined?”
“Ramshackled,” he repeats quietly, causing you to giggle. With an airy sigh, he presses his weight into you more. “How do you expect me to sleep when I can’t hold you?”
Defeated, you save your work and close the laptop. You swivel in your chair, enough to meet his eye, and cup a hand to his cheek. It never stops being endearing to you how he cutely closes his eyes and angles his head to snuggle your palm.
“Alright, alright, you don’t have to beg.”
His eyes flutter open, and the smile on his face grows as he wraps his fingers around yours. Carefully, he pulls on your hand to bring it up enough to begin to lace your wrist with affectionate kisses, tracing your pulse.
“I thought you enjoyed my begging.”
“That’s different.”
“It isn’t,” Xavier mutters into your skin, pressing another light kiss.
“It is.”
“So, you're resolute about that position?” he questions “innocently”. There’s something mischievous about the glint in those arctic eyes, which makes your face warm. You find yourself breaking eye contact, or else you’d lose it.
“Yes.”
Xavier chuckles then begins to lead his kisses down your arm. “In that case, care to explain the difference in detail, love?”
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
“Sleep.”
“But—”
“Sleep.”
Zayne narrows his eyes at you from his side of the bed. You can’t blame him for being a little annoyed right now but the movie you put on to fall asleep was much better than you expected; and instead of falling asleep, you were more awake than ever at a very late one in the morning.
“I’m almost done with the movie,” you tell him, hoping he’ll cut you a little slack this one time.
“Everyone dies at the end of their own stupidity,” he bluntly states and grabs the remote. The television turns off with an overly loud click, and you pout. “Now, sleep.”
Crossing your arms over your chest, you huff. “You’re the worst.”
“I’m fine with that title if it gets you to rest,” he explains with a smooth yawn. “Poor sleep habits lead to bad decision-making later. You’re more likely to develop high blood pressure, and with your heart in particular—”
“I get it. I get it,” you say, wanting to be spared the lecture. Zayne is a good person and a better doctor, but you wish he didn’t worry about you so much just because you might have a little big heart problem. Sighing, you squiggle onto your back and pull the sheets up to your collar, kicking them a little childishly in the process (totally not to let him know that you were not pleased with his spoiling). “I hope you’re proud of yourself.”
“Very.”
Zayne turns over onto his side, away from you, and you frown at the loneliness. Softly, you poke him in the back, once, then twice then a third time before you finally get a hum in response.
“Am I really not getting a good night kiss?”
“Do you need one to sleep?” he asks, his voice deeper from the lack of sleep, urging you to convince him to kiss you even more.
“Duh,” you explain. Slowly, he turns back over to look at you, propping himself up on one arm with a look that says “Is that so” as you continue to ramble. It makes you a little flustered when he watches you so intently. He’s always had this silent dominance that makes you obedient, but you could get what you want from him just as easily with the exact opposite strategy. Cutely, you puff your bottom lip out at him. “There has to be some health benefit to it. Kissing makes people all happy. Happy is good, right?”
It takes a second for him to take in what you say, those smokey eyes closing in on you with thought before he climbs over you. He places both hands at your sides and quickly boxes in your upper thighs with his knees.
“You’re thinking of dopamine,” he says.
“Huh?”
“That makes you “all happy”,” he explains and presses a deep kiss to your lips, leaving you thoughtless and breathless all at once. He moves to your jaw, and you begin to squirm from the pressure of his impassioned lips.
“And Serotonin.”
Another kiss, lower.
“Oxytocin.”
He’s at your shoulder when he starts to nip your skin, and one of his hands moves to ski up the back of your thigh.
“Reduced cortisol.”
Flustered, you grip his arms.
“Zayne, stop, it tickles,” you whine, but it’s the last thing you actually want as he readjusts his position and hovers above you.
His usually neat hair is messier and his breathing a little heavier judging by how his chest laboriously rises and falls. Groaning, you bite your bottom lip as he knowingly leans in and whispers,
“You need it to help you sleep, isn’t that what you said?”
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
“Why don’t you just say you don’t love me anymore?”
You look up from your phone screen at the sudden accusation. You’re resting on the couch, your back propped up by the armrest and legs splayed out on the other cushion while Rafayel looks down at you with crossed arms and a less-than-pleased scowl on his face. You’re entirely confused as to what you could’ve done to make him think something like that.
“Huh?”
“You’ve been playing video games for what—the last two hours?” he says, uncrossing his arms to grab your phone. It’s too late to warn him as he glances at the screen, clicking a few times. “What are you playing anyway? An…otome? Sheesh, go ahead and say you want me gone. Come on, tell me you actually hate me.”
Holding in your smile, you shake your head and affectionately roll your eyes. It takes an enormous amount of effort to not laugh as he continues to rant. “So, it’s one of those things. I thought I was actually in trouble.”
And by those things, you mean his dramatics.
“Hush, my complaints are perfectly legitimate,” he demands as he pushes your legs aside and sits on the couch. Leaning over, he flashes the screen at you to show the evidence he has that you’re completely unfair, unfaithful, and downright mean. “What’s this game giving you that I’m not? Are my dashing good looks and even better personality not enough? Is that it?”
Gently, you take the phone from his hand and set it down on the end table. “You’re plenty, perfect even.”
He scoffs and refuses to look at you. “Apparently not. Don’t you ever think about anyone else? What if I want to cuddle with you one day but you’re too busy to notice because you’re playing silly games?”
Ah, there it is. His real want. You never know why he can never just come out and say it.
“Rafayel, do you want me to come to bed and cuddle with you?”
“Want is a strong word,” he remarks but you can see his resolve (can you call it that when he planned to give in all along?) crumbling as he slowly turns back to meet your gaze, “but I wouldn’t be opposed to it. Not that you deserve it or care.”
Humming, you sit up, wrap your arms around his shoulders, and pull him down onto you. Lovingly, you snuggle him, stopping to only take in how red his neck and ears start to get when you squeeze him and start to stroke through his hair. You’re not sure if Lumerians can blow happy bubbles like he claims, but he definitely hums and relaxes his entire body weight to lay on top of you like he wants to sink into your skin.
Teasingly, you coo at him. “You’re so needy.”
“I’d rather say you humans aren’t needy enough,” he fires back as he wraps an arm around your waist and kisses the corner of your lips. “Ah, the sweet taste of victory.”
Giving out a gentle and short laugh, you lightly tap his back. “Go to sleep.”
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
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spencerreidenjoyer · 3 months
Text
addicted to you | spencer reid x reader
Spencer isn’t inclined to be affectionate with you. He’s a socially awkward germaphobe, and you’re perfectly fine with it. However, being three months into your relationship, you can’t help but want more. Once Spencer gets a taste, he wants more too. A lot more.
part 1 | part 2 - insatiable
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wc: 6.1k, rating: explicit/18+
tags/warnings: established relationship, first times, virgin!spencer, early seasons spencer, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering praise kink, morning wood, morning sex, sex in unconventional places (like, not in public but not the bed lol), cunnilingus, creampie, implied multiple orgasms
a/n: no excuse for this insane fic but i was strangely inspired by a post i saw on twitter that i wanted to put a lighthearted (and horny) spin on. i definitely felt crazy writing this and i feel crazy posting this now so i sure hope you enjoy this insanity! (p.s you can also find this fic on ao3!)
You don’t mind that Spencer isn’t touchy. You understand, with Spencer being a germaphobe and a little socially awkward, that he isn’t inclined to kisses on the cheek or holding your hand. You’ve only been dating for three months, and he’s already getting better at doing these things, which makes your heart sing. 
Spencer is sweet, willing to do whatever it takes to make you happy. He used to shy away from your touch, but he’s gotten more comfortable with you. He lets you hold his hand when you’re out on a date, or he’ll kiss you chastely out in public. He lets you drape yourself over him when you’re sitting on the couch together watching a show, his arm around your waist to pull you in close. 
While you can understand Spencer’s hesitance towards public displays of affection, due to his awkwardness and anxieties about germs, you’re surprised he hasn’t initiated anything more in the privacy of his apartment (or yours). You’re starting to itch for it, something more, your attraction to Spencer Reid simply too overwhelming for it to simply be sweet and innocent anymore. Your body craves him desperately, because he’s so lovely and so fucking handsome. You’ve caught yourself staring at his hands more than once.
Tonight, you decide you’ll get what you want. You’re going to fuck Spencer Reid.
With your head buried in his shoulder during movie night, your hand runs down his body, getting dangerously close to his crotch – he jumps up off the couch, almost comedic, and stares at you like your touch had burned him. He looks positively freaked out. 
“Spencer,” you say, very confused that he’s not into this. What kind of man doesn’t like his girlfriend initiating sex? Hell, what kind of man doesn’t like sex? 
“I just–” Spencer pauses, like he’s struggling to find the words. “I can’t. Not right now, I–”
“Hey, it’s okay.” You assure him. “We don’t have to. Ever, if that’s what you want.”
His eyes widen again. “No! I want to, just– It’s difficult, right now.”
You cock your head slightly. “Do you want to talk about it?”
Spencer frowns slightly, seeming to know that talking about it is the most rational thing to do, but it’s not like that makes him want to do it. “Well, I– I’ve never done it before.”
Your mouth falls open, just a little, and you look up at him. While you don’t mean to judge, it certainly isn’t surprising. Spencer was fourteen when he was starting university, and his general awkward demeanour and extreme nerdiness would likely rule out any sexual encounters for him during his time in college. Spencer’s line of work would clearly make it difficult for him to maintain a relationship – you definitely lucked out with getting to date him – and he’s too much of a softie for one night stands. So, Spencer Reid being a virgin at twenty-seven definitely checks out.
“That’s okay,” you say softly. “It’s totally normal.”
Spencer’s lips press into a thin line. “Well, you know it took me a while to get used to being affectionate with you, so I think–”
“Being intimate with someone else is going to be a hurdle you’ll need time to cross, too?” 
Spencer looks up at you, eyes wet, looking at you like you’ve read him like an open book. He whispers, “Yeah.”
“That’s okay,” you repeat, even though you’re trying to come to terms with the fact that you’re not going to fuck Spencer Reid tonight. “I’ll– We’ll take it slow, if you want to try.”
“Yes, please.” He has a small smile on his lips as he looks up at you. “I– We could try doing something tonight, too. I just– I wasn’t expecting it earlier. I’m sorry for pushing you off like that.”
You shake your head, reassuring him that you aren’t offended by it by any means. Then, you ask, “You’re sure you want to try? Tonight?”
Spencer nods, as he reaches for your hand. He holds it gently, resting it on his thigh. “Yeah. I haven’t– It’s been a long time since I’ve been with someone, but I want to, with you.”
You lean in to kiss his cheek gently. “I’m glad you trust me.”
His eyes are soft and syrupy when he meets your gaze. “Of course I trust you.”
You squeeze Spencer’s thigh before pressing your lips to his, the familiarity of kissing Spencer making you both ease up a little more. Your kiss is gentle, sweet, just like every other kiss you've shared, but you let your hand slide up his thigh as you kiss him, and you can feel Spencer tensing up under your touch. You squeeze his thigh to reassure him, and you feel Spencer wriggle underneath where you're leaning your body weight on him to loosen up. 
Your hand skirts over his crotch, a hardness under your palm that makes you feel somewhat proud of yourself. Spencer’s breathing is heavy as he keeps kissing you, and keeps letting you touch him. You think he’s so cute. You just want to make him feel good. 
You push the waistband of his sweats down, tugging him out of his pants. His cock is the same shade of red as his cheeks, his shyness turning you on extremely. 
He doesn’t look down at himself, where you’re holding him – instead, his eyes are intently focused on your face. You don’t push him about it, instead leaning forward to kiss him as you start to stroke his cock. 
This time, it feels desperate. Spencer kisses you with more fervour, like a fire’s been lit within him, the pleasure running through his veins almost like liquid courage as he kisses you deeply. You’re more than happy to be doing this, letting Spencer lick into your mouth while you jerk him off. You appreciate the weight of him in your hand, imagining him inside of you – but perhaps you’re getting ahead of yourself. 
“You can touch me, Spence,” you say, in between Spencer kissing you fervently. His hands have been cupping your face, but otherwise he seems awkward with them. You pull back slightly, and while it’s adorable that he’s still holding your face sweetly, you drag his hands down to your chest, in the oversized t-shirt you’d stolen from Spencer’s drawer. “Like this.”
Spencer’s large hands cup your breasts through the shirt perfectly. He squeezes tentatively. You bite your lip as his palms brush over your nipples, as he manhandles you just a little. It’s more force than you’re used to from Spencer, kneading and squeezing and feeling you, and that makes your head spin. 
Daringly, Spencer’s hands slip under your shirt, as he leans back in to kiss you. You feel his calloused hands on your skin as he feels you up, making you shudder. His touch isn’t demanding nor pushy, simply exploratory as he feels your soft skin under his fingertips. 
Your arousal is pumping through your system, Spencer’s gentle submissiveness like a drug you can’t kick. The more you touch him, the more he reacts; touching you more, whimpering and gasping against your lips, into your neck.
“Come on, baby,” you coo in his ear, your hand speeding up on Spencer’s hardness. He’s leaking pathetically, wet in your palm, and he squirms underneath you. 
“I’m– It’s too–” Spencer cuts himself off with a helpless whine, like he can’t control himself. His hands grip your waist tight. “Please–”
“Mm,” you hum sympathetically, while you thoroughly enjoy seeing Spencer like this. “Wanna cum like this, baby?”
Spencer’s breathing hard. He can’t get the words out, but he shakes his head. You slow your strokes, to an excruciating pressure on his length. “No? Then tell me, Spence.”
“Inside you,” He gasps, eyes squeezed shut. 
You absolutely should not let Spencer fuck you for the first time on his couch, but he’s desperate and your resolve is steadily crumbling. “You– You’re sure?”
“Please,” Spencer gasps, his eyes pleading with you helplessly.
So, you pull your hand back and push your shorts off instead. Your panties come off in one fell swoop, and you sit back onto the couch with your legs spread. Spencer’s eyes are wide and his lips are parted as he looks at you, takes the sight of you in. 
Then he’s like a baby deer, standing up and fumbling to get his sweatpants off. You can’t help but giggle at his awkward movements, in his excitement and eagerness to get to touch you, to get to fuck you. He’s quick to get between your legs, his hardness nudging at your entrance already. 
“Mm, not yet, Spence,” you hum. You reach for his hand, taking his wrist as you guide his fingers to your clit. “You know what to do, right?”
He turns his wrist so his fingers – God, his fingers – are poised almost elegantly above your clit. He presses down and starts to circle his fingers against you. You gasp.
“Thought you didn’t– oh– Didn’t have much experience,” you gasp. You hold onto Spencer’s forearm tight, throwing your head back as Spencer pleasures you.
Spencer huffs out a laugh. “I might not be experienced, but I’m not a prude– I remember the… stuff I’ve seen. Eidetic memory and all.”
“Stuff,” you laugh. “I’m sure the porn you’ve watched must’ve helped, darling.”
He slips his fingers into your wetness with an unsurprising ease, considering how turned on you are by him. He hits spots inside you you’ve never thought were possible to reach, but they make electricity zip up your spine. You moan as he crooks his fingers into you, rocking them in and out with a wet squelch.
Spencer grins at you. “You were saying?”
“You’re a cocky bastard, you know that?” you huff, your tone teetering between awfully turned on and mildly annoyed. 
“You like it,” Spencer says, assured of himself, and you smile, because you really do.
“My love,” you moan, as Spencer presses his fingers into you, back out. “You should try fucking me now.”
Spencer’s fingers are still inside of you, and his eyes are wide as he looks up at you. “You think so?”
You smile at him. “If you think you’re up for it.”
You mourn the loss of Spencer’s fingers, but as he’s mumbling to himself and lining his cock up with your entrance, you can only coo at how adorable you find all of this. And how turned on you are, but that’s more than obvious to the both of you by now. 
He looks to you, like he’s looking for reassurance. You nod. Even in the silence, he’s gotten the confidence to push his cock into you, the thickness of his tip breaching your hole. You gasp as you stretch around him, your cunt making space for him as he slides in, excruciatingly slow. “Spencer–”
Spencer lets out a whine as your tight heat engulfs him, his length swallowed up by you as he sinks deeper into you. “Oh, my God–”
“Just like that, baby,” you moan, your leg hooking around Spencer’s leg to coax him forward, closer to you. “Fuck.”
“Do I– When should I–” Spencer gasps, unable to form a coherent sentence with the pleasure swimming through his bloodstream. 
“You can start moving when you don’t feel like you’re going to blow your load if you breathe the wrong way,” you joke, but Spencer does seriously look like he’s going to finish any second. “Hey. Deep breaths, baby.”
Spencer’s brows are furrowed and his eyes are squeezed shut as he breathes in hard, in through his nose and out through his mouth. He’d told you to do that when he’d helped you through a panic attack one time, and while you feel bad that he feels so nervous about all this, it’s extremely amusing to you right now. 
“Look at me,” you say, trying your best not to laugh. “You’re doing great, love.”
Spencer pulls his lower lip between his teeth, his eyes looking to you for validation. 
“So good for me, darling,” you coo, your hand on his hip, while your thumb draws little circles into his skin. “Are you feeling okay?”
“Yeah,” Spencer shudders, voice high-pitched and a little breathy. “I– You feel really good.”
“Yeah? It’ll feel even better when you start moving, sweetheart,” you hum. “You think you can do that for me? Slow, out then back in.”
Spencer whimpers, nodding, and he takes another deep breath in. His hands on your waist, he pulls out halfway before pressing back into you, and he moans so loudly your ears ring. “So– So tight, you–”
“That’s good, yeah? Feels good?” you coo. “Come on, baby. More.”
Spencer rests one of his arms on the back of the couch, holding himself steady and getting him that much closer to you. He starts to thrust in and out, starting off slow as he finds a rhythm. 
His thrusts are erratic, but you’re so wildly turned on and it still feels amazing, because it’s Spencer. 
Spencer is frantic, desperate, bracing himself against the couch as he fucks into you. Maybe pounding into you is a better phrase to use, because he’s fucking you like a madman, till the couch is squeaking under both your weight. You cry out, feeling Spencer drilling into you – and it feels so good.
“Oh, God,” Spencer whines. “You– It’s so good, oh–”
“Yeah, baby?” You rock your hips along with him, burying Spencer deeper into you. You clench so each thrust is a little tighter, and each time Spencer fucks into you, he moans a little louder. 
Amidst Spencer’s whines and pretty noises, you watch his face morph with pleasure, feeling assured that he’s enjoying this as much as you are. In fact, he’s probably enjoying this more. As you’re lost in your train of thought, admiring Spencer’s gorgeous face, you’re startled when you feel Spencer’s load inside of you, hot and slick. His hips flush against your ass, Spencer shudders as he rides out his orgasm, body trembling from the force of his pleasure.
“Oh, Spence,” you giggle, a little dizzy from how turned on you are, from watching Spencer lose himself just like that. You reach up to cup his face, your thumb gentle on his cheek. “Was that good?”
“Oh,” Spencer mumbles, seemingly brought back to reality. He pulls back, taking the sight of you in. “I’m– I’m good, I’m sorry–”
“Don’t be,” you say. “You’re so cute. It’s so hot.”
“I mean, you are too, but– But you haven’t–”
“You wanna make it up to me, then?” You smile, gentle and warm and Spencer nods like he’s eager to please you. 
You kiss him while he pulls out, replacing the thickness of his cock with two fingers, which fit into you easily. Like before, Spencer presses his fingers into you, slick and wet and squelchy. Spencer curls them and fingerfucks you like a pro, like he’s done this a hundred times. With his face pressed into your shoulder and your arms slung around his neck, Spencer fucks you on his fingers until your toes are curling and you’re screaming his name. You cry out as you orgasm, shaking as Spencer fucks you through it. 
You’re almost embarrassed when you finally come back to your senses, no longer reeling from the intensity of your orgasm. Spencer is kissing your jawline sweetly, his clean hand stroking your hair.
“Hey,” Spencer says softly, somehow knowing you needed to hear him. He parrots you from earlier, “Was– Was that good?”
“So good, my love,” you murmur into his shoulder. Then, after a quiet moment, “I thought you needed some time to get comfortable with being intimate.” 
Spencer pauses for a moment, like he’s pondering it, before he says, “I know. But for you, I think I’d do anything.”
That’s all Spencer manages to get out before you kiss him again. It’s tender and sweet, the intensity behind your kiss no longer lustful but full of adoration and love. You feel like you could sob right now, but you manage to hold it back.
Spencer gets into the shower with you, which you’re surprised by, but his hands are soft on your body as he cleans you up. You shampoo his hair for him, even though he has to lean forward a little so you can reach. 
You end up falling asleep in Spencer’s bed, curled up in his arms. 
You don’t dream at night, but when you wake up with a hardness poking against your thigh and Spencer’s gentle snoring in your ear, you think you might be. 
In your dreariness, you reach behind you, the angular sharpness of Spencer’s hip bone under your palm. He’s warm, cuddled up against you, and the tickling of his breath on your neck tells you that this isn’t a dream. 
“Spence,” you whisper, shaking him slightly. You watch as he blinks himself awake, drowsy as he comes to focus on your face. “Hey.”
“Good morning,” Spencer says, his voice rough with disuse. “What’s up?”
“You are,” you smile, a little too pleased, as your hand snakes down toward his crotch. 
He squeaks at the contact, your soft hand on his hardness, “Um, sorry about that.”
“Don’t be,” you laugh. “Had a good dream?”
He pulls his lower lip between his teeth. “About you, yeah.”
“Wanna tell me about it?” you goad, wiggling your eyebrows. 
Spencer’s cheeks somehow get even redder than they already were, but he shakes his head. “I want– I want to have sex, though.”
Your eyes widen. “Now?”
“Do you have the time for it?” He asks, sheepish. “I– I want to fuck you again.”
Your cheeks flush at Spencer’s sudden crudeness. You think about what Spencer could’ve possibly dreamt up, wonder how Spencer could possibly be confident enough to tell you straight up that he wants to fuck you. That phrase probably hadn’t been in Spencer’s lexicon until about twelve hours ago – while Spencer was smart – a literal genius – his innocence was completely understandable. 
“We have time,” you exhale, looking back into his eyes after looking at the clock. “I only have to be at the office in a couple of hours.”
“Good,” Spencer says, leaning in to kiss down your neck. His hands are frisky already, slipping underneath your shirt. Spencer splays his hands over your stomach, before reaching up to cup your breasts in his hands. 
“You like touching me like this, don’t you, baby?” you chuckle breathlessly, already feeling weak in the knees from the way Spencer holds you. “Mm, I’m surprised.”
“Why is that?” His words are slightly muffled against your skin, too busy kissing you to make himself sound coherent. His hands are rough against the softness of your skin, and you moan from the way he’s handling you.
“Yesterday you couldn’t even tell me you wanted to fuck,” you croon, thoroughly pleased. “And now you’re touching me like you know what you’re doing. It’s so hot.”
“I– I just can’t get enough of you,” Spencer admits, his earnest words turning you on extremely.
“Now you’re just horny,” you laugh, feeling Spencer’s hand slide over your underwear.
“Mm, you’re so wet right now too,” Spencer murmurs in your ear, his warm breath and raspy voice sending a shiver down your spine. Where’d he learn to talk like that? You squeeze your thighs together, but that doesn’t stop Spencer from feeling the wetness between your legs, soaking through your panties. 
“All for you, baby,” you gasp, as Spencer’s fingers slip past the band of your underwear, deftly stroking your clit. “Spencer–”
“Can I fuck you? Please?” He pleads, breathy, his hips already rutting forward against your ass. 
His eagerness makes your head spin, his sudden confidence in the realm of sex surprising – maybe it’s cockiness, but you still find that stupidly attractive – but it is certainly welcomed. 
“Yes, Spence, please,” you shudder, the word yes leaving your lips enough for Spencer to pull your underwear down, over the swell of your ass. He fumbles with his own boxers for a moment, but soon you feel his hard, leaking tip pressed to your butt. He rocks his hips back and forth, desperately seeking whatever friction he can get. 
Lost in his own pleasure, Spencer is quick to slide his cock between your legs, the wetness from your cunt making it easy for him to rut into the tight, slick space. Like this, his length rubs up against you, the head of his cock nudging at your clit with every thrust of his hips. It feels primal, Spencer so far gone that he isn’t even fucking you proper, content with the slick, tight space between your thighs and your pussy. You wonder if you need to tell him, but Spencer’s groan in your ear is shaky as his tip catches on your hole.
His arms wrapped around you, both of you moan as Spencer finally sinks his cock into you. He slides in too easily, so easily you almost think he’d hadn’t meant to do it. Maybe he hadn’t, but you’d gotten there in the end, where you both need to be; Spencer buried inside of you.
It’s so different from yesterday, the angle when he presses into you from behind so exhilarating, so good. He’s just as desperate as last night, but there’s a sort of reckless confidence in his movements. His hands slide under your shirt to grab at your tits again, rocking his hips while he practically gropes you. It’s so hot your head spins. You feel like you’re going to explode.
“Spencer!” You cry out, your voice ripping its way out of your throat. Pleasure surges through you like electricity, Spencer’s thick cock hitting all the right spots from this angle. His eager desperation turns you on to no end, as you let him take you from behind. While you weren’t expecting lazy, morning sex at all, the intensity and desperation he fucks you with right now makes you think you could get used to this.
Spencer’s whine has your head spinning. His hips don’t slow, more rhythmic than yesterday but still as needy. “Fuck, you feel so good.”
“Yeah?” You coo breathlessly. You’re so fucking turned on, and every time Spencer drives his hips into you you can hear how wet you really are. “You’re doing so good for me, Spence, fucking me so good.”
“You like it? Is it good?” Spencer gasps, always so eager to please you.
“So good,” you moan. You’re still sore from last night, but the pleasure Spencer is giving you right now overrides all of that. You would love for him to wake you up like this every day. “I’m close, baby.”
“Oh,” Spencer says, like he’s surprised you’re already getting off on this, on him– “What do you need me to do?”
“Just keep going, Spence,” you gasp. “Keep fucking me just like this.”
Spencer’s hum is breathy, high-pitched. Somehow, his grip on you gets tighter, holding you like he’s afraid you’ll disappear. The force he fucks you with is so wildly arousing. You’re so enamoured, and so turned on.
Your orgasm creeps up on you, slow and steady as it bubbles up inside of you. You squeeze your eyes shut, focusing on the dirty, rough way Spencer fucks you, and then you feel his soft lips on your neck again. He isn’t properly kissing you – more like slobbering all over your neck, but you cry out as he does so, thighs pressing together as you reach your orgasm. You’re shaking through it, clenching around Spencer as you come, and Spencer’s gasping as your tight pussy pushes Spencer over the edge too. You feel his come inside of you, cock twitching as his load spurts hot and heavy into your cunt. You sob, feeling Spencer slow his thrusts as he rides out his orgasm.
“Holy shit,” you say, your voice coming out ragged and hoarse. You feel like a different woman, being fucked ruthlessly by your boyfriend in his bed for the first time. You can’t get enough. 
“I love you,” Spencer says quietly, earnest. It makes you shudder. 
“You’re crazy,” you laugh, taken aback at how Spencer’s returned to his gentle, soft self. “I love you too, you madman.”
“I can’t resist you,” he murmurs in your ear, the vibrations of his raspy morning voice almost soothing.
You turn around to face him, Spencer still holding you in his arms. He smiles warmly at you, and you lean in to kiss him. “You’re so cute.”
“Wanna go again?” he asks, somewhat timid. 
Your eyes widen. You try to hide your grin, but it doesn’t work. “Someone’s desperate, huh?”
Spencer flushes a gorgeous red. “Maybe a little?”
“I have to get ready for work,” you sigh, actually a little bummed that you can't spend all day fucking Spencer. “Maybe tonight?”
“Okay,” Spencer smiles. “Want me to drive you back to yours?”
You grin. “You’re the best!”
Work is relatively uneventful, numbers and Excel spreadsheets; and all you can think about is Spencer’s rapid change in demeanour over the last twelve hours, his innocence torn away by you, leaving behind a horny, insatiable man. You’re kind of proud of yourself for that. 
So, you can’t blame yourself for being excited to get back to Spencer’s. Lately, you’ve been staying over more, your apartment simply a place to house your wardrobe. Maybe you’ll talk to Spencer about living together.
“Hey, Spence,” you say, pleased when Spencer kisses you as he greets you at the door. 
Even with all the probable germs on you from being out all day, Spencer’s surprisingly clingy, hands on your waist as he stumbles in behind you, as you set the takeout you’d brought over on his dining table. Spencer leans in behind you, kissing your cheek then down your neck.
“Hey, what’s with you, baby?” you chuckle, very much enjoying the way Spencer’s hands slide down your waist to your hips, grabbing the meat of your thighs through your dress pants.
“Missed you,” Spencer answers simply, but even you can tell there’s something in his voice that implies he’s looking for something more. 
“I’m sorry I had to leave you alone the whole day, my love. I’m sure you must’ve found something to busy yourself with, though?” You hum, teasing. You have a good idea of where this is going.
Spencer’s quiet for a moment, so you turn to look at him. His lips are pressed into a thin line, looking almost nervous, and his cheeks are flushed red. Spencer finally presses his body close to yours, and you feel it–
“Spence,” you grin, “Someone’s happy to see me.”
“Thought about it– Thought about you all day,” Spencer mumbles. “You promised.”
“What did I promise, baby?” you egg him on, eager to hear him say it, even though you definitely know what he’s going to ask. 
“That we would do it again tonight,” he answers, but you shoot him a look. “You said we would have sex again tonight.”
“Twice in one day? I don’t know, baby,” you pretend to sound disinterested.
Spencer looks at you with wide eyes. Respectful as ever, he clears his throat. “Please? If you’re tired we don’t have to, but I really want to. Only if you want to, though. This involves both of us, I don’t want to impose–”
You giggle, reaching to hold his hands. “God, you’re perfect.”
“What–?” Spencer barely gets the word out before you’re kissing him. He’s happy to do so, holding your face gently, matching your energy perfectly. You feel his cock pressing against you. 
“I turned you into a sex fiend,” you laugh, between kissing him, “And you’re still thinking about making sure I’m into it too.”
“Of course, why wouldn’t I be?” Spencer’s brows furrow slightly, like he can’t comprehend how he could be into it if you weren’t too. “And I- I’m not a sex fiend, I just–”
Smiling, you whisper sultrily, “I think you should take me right here, baby.”
“Oh–” You cut Spencer off with another kiss, and he squeaks as you reach for his half-hard cock through his sweatpants. You’re positively delighted that Spencer’s like this, for you.
Spencer kisses you deeply, leaning forward until the small of your back hits the edge of the table. His hands coming up to your ass, he lifts you up, getting you to lay back on the table. You gasp, as Spencer kisses down the column of your neck, his hands making quick work of the buttons of your dress shirt. His lips are soft against your skin, at the swell of your breasts. Your shirt gets pushed off your shoulders. You feel him unhook your bra with a surprising ease, tossed aside, and then his hands are grabbing your tits like they were made for him. His thumbs brush over your nipples, a little forceful as he kneads at you, and your head is spinning. 
“Spencer,” you moan, as he kisses down your stomach, unbuttoning your pants to reveal your soaked-through underwear. He smiles up at you, his messy mop of hair a lovely sight. 
“Can I…?” Spencer’s big brown eyes dart down to where you’re soaked, then back up at you.
Your eyes widen. “Yes. If you want to.”
Spencer grins. “Of course I want to.”
His fingers are gentle on your hips as he pulls your panties off, wasting no time in spreading your legs so he can get between them. Your eyes are wide as you watch him, feeling kind of self-conscious over how eager he is to be doing this. Knelt between your thighs, he lifts one of your legs and swings them over his shoulder. You can feel his stubble on the soft skin of your inner thigh, his nose nudging against your clit. His tongue comes up, wet and hot, as he tastes you for the first time. “Spencer–”
He presses his face impossibly closer, more urgent in eating you out. You watch as his eyes flutter shut, his jaw flexing as his tongue works on you, and you’re trembling already. Spencer’s extremely good with his mouth, and you’re surprised at how good he’s making you feel, considering he likely hasn’t done this before. The sounds of his mouth are wet and squelchy and so obscene, and you would feel almost embarrassed, were it not for how into this Spencer seems to be too, 
With your hands in his hair, you cry out when Spencer’s tongue circles your swollen clit, jolts of pleasure sent through your body. You can’t think straight when Spencer’s face is buried between your legs, eating you out like he was made for this. All you can think about is how gifted Spencer is with his tongue, and how you wish you could do this all night. 
“Please, love,” you moan, “Need you to fuck me.”
Spencer hums in approval, the vibrations between your legs making you jump. He makes a little wet slurping noise before he comes back up, and you feel your cunt throb when he looks up at you with his lovely, wide brown eyes, and his chin wet and messy with your slick. Spencer wipes his face with the back of his hand, and you’re so turned on you might just explode.
“I love you,” you tell him earnestly. “I think this is the craziest thing I’ve ever done. I love you.”
“What is? Having sex on my dinner table?” Spencer quips, as he sets your legs down and stands back up. He has a cocky grin plastered on his face. 
You roll your eyes playfully. “First time for everything, right?”
Spencer nods, smiling, before he leans forward to kiss you sweetly. You watch as he pulls his sweatpants down, his cock bobbing up, red and angry and rock hard. You feel yourself salivating at the sight, but decide that he needs to fuck you right now.
“Spencer,” you mewl, feeling breathless as you watch him wrap a hand around himself, stroking his length. Concentration is written all over his face and it makes you want to kiss him. 
“I’ve been wanting to do this all day,” Spencer says, pressing his cock forward until he’s lined up with your entrance. It’s so tantalising, the way the blunt head of his cock threatens to slip into you. You’re so wet and so loose for him, and you need him inside of you now.
You gasp when he finally pushes in, his thick cock splitting you in half as he slides into you. The pressure is so perfect, the slow draw of his hips as he takes care not to rush, wanting to take care of you. Even with all this still being new for Spencer, he still focuses on you, puts you first. You’re not sure if you’re swooning over him, or the way his cock fits inside you perfectly.
You don’t need to encourage him to start moving. He rocks his hips slowly, somehow already familiar with your body, and makes you feel like you could explode with pleasure. 
He leans forward, pressing his body to yours as he kisses you. Like this, Spencer presses into you deeper, fucks you slow and deep and loving. The edge of the table is absolutely digging into your back, but you don’t care when every sense of yours is filled with Spencer, getting to taste and touch and hear him. You taste yourself on his tongue, hear the sloppy way he thrusts into you, your skin burning wherever he’s pressed up against you. 
Burying his face in your neck, Spencer pants in your ear, hot and heavy as he fucks you, giving you everything you need. Your head is swimming with arousal, as Spencer presses you against the table and fucks you like his life depends on it. “You feel so good, fuck, so good–”
“I’m so close, baby,” you cry out, the pace absolutely ruthless as Spencer fucks you. You didn’t think his stamina would be this good, considering your boyfriend’s lanky stature and abhorrence towards exercise. You certainly wouldn’t mind doing this kind of cardio with him more often. “Please, Spence–”
“Let go, I– I’m here for you,” Spencer stumbles over his words, but he’s so sweet that you’re losing yourself, your orgasm crashing into you like a tidal wave. You scream as you reach your peak, your toes curling while Spencer fucks you through it, shaking as pleasure and arousal zips through your body. Spencer’s hips stutter as the tightness of your pussy has him reeling, too close too quickly. 
While his hips keep a steady pace, you’re feeling loopy as Spencer continues to fuck you. You hold his head close to you, kissing his forehead as you murmur, “You’re so hot, Spence. Made me come so quickly, and you held out for me? So good for me, baby. Are you close?”
Spencer whines, a pitiful noise in the back of his throat. “Please, I’m so close, need you–”
“I’m right here, baby,” you coo, stroking his sweat-matted hair sweetly. You’re so enamoured with him. “Gonna cum inside me, Spence? Fill me up with your–”
You don’t even get to finish your dirty talk before Spencer is moaning, coming inside of you. It feels like he’s released so much inside of you, hot and messy as he fucks you through his own high. His chest heaves as he pants, trembling as he reels from the intensity of his orgasm. Spencer’s hips slow to a stop, and he mouths at your neck mindlessly until he seems to get his bearings back. You imagine you must look a mess, sweat and spit all over you, your makeup from a long day of work likely running by now. 
Spencer gets up off of you, so both of you have space to catch your breaths. You feel Spencer slip out of you with a slick ‘pop’, and feel his release trickle out of you just moments after. You stifle a quiet moan, but when you look up at Spencer, his eyes couldn’t possibly leave the sight between your legs. His lips are parted slightly, pupils blown wide, as he watches you drip with his release. You feel Spencer’s cock, resting against your inner thigh, twitch slightly. 
“Woah there, cowboy,” you chuckle, out of breath. “Give me a minute to recover.”
His eyes practically twinkle when they dart up to look at you. He’s like an excited puppy as he asks, “Again?”
You shake your head, laughing, and sit up to kiss Spencer again. “Maybe we could try something new?”
Spencer grins, nodding eagerly. It definitely seems like he’s down for whatever, as long as it’s with you. 
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