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#the fictional men in my head would never
undrthelights · 6 months
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i was unfortunately distracted by a man for awhile there and uh……. not a fictional one (wtf is actually wrong with me) but i’m ready to be fully committed to my fictional men again so 🥰
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not-neverland06 · 1 month
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n a s t y d o g I logan howlett x fem!mutant!reader
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One-shot A/N: I've never felt this way about a fictional character before. Every gif I see of him has me gnawing and biting at the bars of my enclosure. I want to bite him. If Hugh Jackman ever discovered what thoughts lurk inside my rotted brain about him he'd get a restraining order. This isn't OKAY Anyways... Summary: You'd thought you'd had a good thing going with Logan. You weren't officially anything to each other, but you were getting close. You truly saw a future with him, but he made it incredibly clear he did not feel the same 18+ HATE FUCKING (MDNI)
(one chance please, just one chance with him)
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“Are you sure this isn’t totally clingy girlfriend of me?”
Ororo gives you an irritated look and Jean laughs. “Not at all, Scott loves it when I surprise him like this.” You’re all huddled in your room, each of you in varying stages of getting ready. Jean is finishing off her eyeliner at your vanity, Ororo is putting on her boots, and you’re trying to decide between a skirt and a dress. 
You’re not entirely sure how, or why, Logan and Scott decided to go to the bar together tonight. You suspect it has something to do with Jean. She wants them to start getting along so there’s less friction when you’re all around each other. 
At Jean’s idea, Logan had muttered, “When hell freezes over,” in your ear before he had left for the night. You’d gotten a little antsy without him to entertain you and had mistakenly blurted out the idea of going to visit them. Ororo had been dying to get out of the house and Jean was a little worried about her boyfriend as well. They’d agreed to go along with you and you’ve felt a weight in your stomach ever since. 
Your relationship with Logan was relatively new. Hell, a month ago you’d thought he’d hated you the same he did Scott. You’d, of course, been proven wrong when you’d had a few drinks with him and things had taken a very physical turn. 
You weren’t sure if he’d just wanted a one-night stand or something serious. But when you’d tried to sneak out the next morning and he’d muttered a grumpy, “Where’re you going?” You’d gotten your answer. 
You hadn’t been on any real dates, there didn’t ever seem to be time for them. But you spent most of your days together. Sometimes just silently enjoying each other’s company, other times you would be holed up in one of your rooms cuddling. The thought always brings a stupid lovesick grin to your face. 
It’s one of your first real relationships and you’re worried that things are moving a little too fast. At least on your end. You can already tell that you’re falling for him. Headfirst into the deep end of love. And it’s terrifying because you truly cannot tell what he thinks about you. Clearly, he likes you. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t let you follow him around like a lost puppy. 
But he’s never truly said anything to you. There’s no official label as to what you two are. You say girlfriend off-handly and you usually don’t mean it when you reference yourself. You’ve never outright said he’s your boyfriend and he’s never really claimed you. He’s made it explicitly clear he doesn’t want you sleeping with other men, and you’ve said the same to him about women. You both agreed on that, but…
You kind of drive yourself crazy trying to figure this out. He’s not vocal about his feelings and everything’s still new so you don’t like pressuring him. You also worry that if you push him too far he’ll just get tired of you and move on. It’s not fair to assume that of him, and you know everything would be better if you just talked to him. But you’re scared. You’re scared the conversation will take the wrong direction and everything will blow up in your face. 
Jean calls your name and your head shoots up to see both Ororo and Jean looking at you expectantly. You flush when you realize they must have been talking to you and you’d just completely zoned out thinking about Logan. 
“Huh?” You blurt out, cringing at how dumb you sound. 
Jean gives you a concerned look, “I can practically taste your anxiety.” The telepath frowns and offers you a comforting smile. “Don’t worry about it, I promise, Logan won’t mind at all.”
“You’re fine,” Ororo adds, because clearly the look on your face screams, I need constant validation. They’re not wrong, but still, you hate feeling like an exposed bundle of nerves. “Think of it as girl’s night, the boys just happen to be there.” 
You force a smile on your face and give your most enthusiastic nod. You change into the dress and finish up with your hair. You finally start chatting with them again, engaging so it might disguise just how nervous you feel. 
There’s this clenching feeling, traveling from your stomach up to your chest. It makes you sick, makes you hurt. And it’s not because you think Logan will be upset with you for crashing. He’d be relieved, if anything. There’s something else. Premonition isn’t one of your abilities, but you’re seriously starting to doubt that now. 
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The bar is loud when you walk in. The soles of your shoes immediately start to stick to the floor and your nose screws up in disgust at the loud laughter coming from around the pool tables. You glance around, trying to see if you can spot Logan. 
You’d say you could spot him in any crowd. But has a propensity to hunker down and try to attract as little attention as possible so people don’t bother him. “There he is,” Jean taps your shoulders and points to the two men at the end of the bar. 
Like you’d thought, Logan is hunched over his whiskey, glowering down at the wood under him like it had insulted him. You almost want to laugh at the sight. Some of the earlier anxiety eases its grip on you and you feel your shoulders begin to untense. 
Before you can walk over Ororo grabs Jean’s wrist. “Gotta go to the bathroom,” she tugs Jean behind her. 
Jean looks over her shoulder at you and smiles encouragingly, “Go to them, we’ll catch up in a second.” You give her a tentative nod and slip through the crowd. There are more people here than you thought there would be. 
You’re happy not to spot any kids in the crowd. You’ve had a few too many nights out crashed by kids who thought they were good at sneaking out. 
It’s easy enough not to spot you or the other women in the crowd. Mutants have gotten good at blending in with the people around them. Makes it easier to get around. It’s probably why neither Logan nor Scott stop their conversation as you approach. “So,” Scott draws the word out, fingers tapping against the glass of his beer. 
“Don’t,” Logan warns. You want to laugh at his grumpy demeanor, but someone’s accidentally elbowed you and you find yourself stumbling a few steps back. It’s taking entirely too long to get to them, the bar isn’t even that big. There’s just that many people here. 
Scott ignores him and rolls his eyes. “Look, we’re stuck here for a while. Try and pull that stick out of your ass.”
“How about I put one in yours?” Logan’s claws come out slightly. But then they both share an odd look and Scott smirks. “Shut the fuck up,” Logan grouses, “not like that.”
“Right,” Scott huffs out a laugh and shakes his head. He picks up his bottle and takes a long drink. You’ve nearly reached them now. You stop, though, when you hear Scott say your name. You shouldn’t, you really shouldn’t. Eavesdropping now is just asking to get hurt. 
You drop back into the crowd, hoping the smells of others will stop Logan from discovering you lurking behind them both. Scott continues, “How’s that going?”
You crane your neck forward, trying to hear them better over the karaoke happening behind you. Someone is butchering Britney Spears but you couldn’t care less right now. Logan shouldn’t answer. Since when has he ever shared anything with Scott?
So, imagine your surprise when his answer isn’t immediately telling him to fuck off. “Eh,” he shrugs, downing the rest of his whiskey. Your face drops in irritation. Seriously, all this skulking around for an Eh? That’s bullshit. 
You keep yourself from stepping forward, forcing your feet still, and ignoring the little voice in the back of your head telling you this is a bad idea. You’ve committed this much, you’re seeing it through. Scott whistles lowly, “That bad, huh?” Oh, fuck off, Summers. 
Logan shakes his head and for a moment you have a brief feeling of hope lifting you up. “Nah, not bad. It’s just, I don’t know.” Logan sits up and signals the bartender for a refill. Your snooping senses go off and you briefly see Ororo and Jean exiting the bathroom. Desperate for something to keep them at bay, you flick your wrist. The man in front of them tips his drink down Jean’s shirt, slurring out apologies. Jean huffs and Ororo brings her back into the bathroom. 
Scott and Logan somehow missed the whole interaction and you promise yourself that you’ll pay for Jean’s dry cleaning. You’re definitely not going to. “Think she wants something I don’t,” Logan tells Scott, and your heart plummets to your feet. You can practically see it deflate, all the lovesickness draining out of it and onto the floor of this grimy bar. 
“Like, she just wants to fuck around?”
Logan shakes his head and downs another glass of whiskey. He’s just swallowing it down like it’s water. At a certain point, the bartender gets sick of it and just leaves him with the bottle. “No, she wants something real. Like a real relationship.” Scott’s brows furrow and Logan shrugs. “Not interested.” 
It’s the way he says it that really bothers you. There’s nothing wrong with wanting something different in a relationship. It happens all the time. But he says it so dismissively. He knows that you want something real with him, something secure and loving. He knows that, continues to fuck you and lead you on, and then speaks as though you’re an idiot for ever being interested in that. 
Hurt hasn’t set in yet. You’re staring wide-eyed, jaw agape with shock as you stare at Logan’s back. You’d thought a conversation needed to be had. But you didn’t think that he thought of you like this. You’d thought you meant something to him. 
Scott seems to share the sentiment, his lips tugged down into a frown. He leans against the bar, surveying Logan with a disbelieving look. “What?” Logan snaps.
Scott raises his hands in surrender, shaking his head and backing off. “Nothing, man, I just thought you two were serious about each other.” You miss whatever Logan says as an arm slings itself around your shoulder. 
“What’re you doing?” A husky, seductive voice whispers against the shell of your ear. You jump in shock, glaring at Ororo as she grins at you. She lets her arm slide off your shoulders and glances over at Jean. “I think she was spying.”
Jean nods, nudging you forward. “Definitely spying. Hear anything good?”
You fortify your mind against her probing fingers before she can find out. “Nope,” you blurt out. You hope the racing of your heart is dismissed by your constantly frazzled nature. You hope the look on your face is explained by your earlier boredom and anxiety. You pray that none of them notice the way you lean away from Logan when the men finally turn around and notice you all. 
Scott breathes out a dramatic sigh of relief and slumps onto Jean. “Thank god, I thought I was going to die trying to talk to this brick wall.” his eyes flick towards you in a blink-and-you-miss-it moment. There’s a brief pitying look before he grins. “Come to get your boyfriend?” There’s a heavy emphasis on the word that you never would have noticed had you not heard their conversations. 
It’s clearly a petty dig at Logan. And you would appreciate it if you didn’t feel the sudden urge to vomit up your dinner. “Thought you might need saving from Logan.” You tell him, a chuckle hiding the slight tremor in your voice. 
You’re not sure if he does, but you hope Logan notices how you avoided the word boyfriend. You hope that he hurts the same way you do. But you know, deep down, that he doesn’t care. He’s probably relieved that you didn’t use the title. 
Logan gets off his stool, he wraps his arm around your shoulder, and pulls you into a brief hug. His lips press against your temple before he dips down to whisper, “Thank you,” in your ear.
Asshole, he’s not allowed to smile at you the way he is. If you weren’t in such a crowded place and already overstimulated, you’d shove him away. If your friends weren’t watching you’d take his arm and slam it down onto the bar until you hear his fucking adamantium bones break. 
That might have been too far. Maybe you’re not that angry, but you’re hurt.
You place your hands against his chest, a thin smile on your lips while you hum a simple, “Mhm.” He doesn’t seem to notice the way you push away from him. It’s easily dismissed by you cheekily stealing his seat at the bar. 
He comes up behind you, hands bracketing you and keeping you stuck against the bar while you order your drink. One of his hands drifts down, laying against your thigh. You know this isn’t sexual, this is him comforting you. 
He shouldn’t know how horrible you feel in such busy places. He shouldn’t know that and know that his touch is grounding and then help you. Not if he doesn’t want something serious. If he didn’t want to be your boyfriend, didn’t want to be anything but a fuck, then why do this to you? Did he not think this was leading you on? Is this just him caring for you?
You’ll drown in a sea of unanswered questions before the night is over if you linger too long. You tip your head back, let your shot burn its way down your throat, and turn towards the others with a smile. You feel your worries fade and your focus loosen as you simply drift further into your mind. 
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You must have disassociated or something. By the time you realize you’re no longer hearing bad karaoke and your elbows aren’t sticking to the bar, you’re already home. You stare in the mirror, hand pausing as you brush your teeth before you quickly finish. 
You didn’t drink much, you never do. It fucks with your abilities and causes migraines. You rinse your mouth out and glance into your bedroom. Logan groans and stretches. His back bows, muscles flexing and you rip your eyes away. You can’t let yourself be distracted by the chest you want to drape yourself across. 
You need to talk to him. It’s never been more clear. You wipe your mouth and toss the towel onto the rim of the sink. You take in a deep breath, trying to get rid of the nerves plaguing you. It’s never worked before, it’s not going to suddenly cure you now. 
You give up on the thought and instead, shove down the anxiety until you have enough confidence to speak. It takes a little while, Logan peaks an eye open, eyebrows quirked when he sees you just staring at him. “Something up, bub?” he flexes, on purpose, and you roll your eyes. You grab his shirt out of your hamper and toss it at him. 
“Put this on. Can’t think when you look like that.”
He chuckles, “That’s the point.” at your pointed glare his smile drops and he tugs the beater on. It barely does anything to deter you. If anything you’re having more trouble paying attention. Especially now that his full attention is on you. The humor is gone from the room, a thick tension replaces it. Logan seems to feel it, sitting up straighter and glaring at you like he’s trying to read your mind. “What’s wrong?” It’s a demand more than a question. 
It’s hard to look at him. But you refuse to let yourself cower now. You take in a fortifying breath and let your gaze bore into his. You put all the hurt and anger you feel into it, willing yourself to be firm. “We need to talk.”
“‘Bout what?” He’s brusque, but there’s a slight concern to his tone. 
There’s no point hiding this. And maybe you had misheard, maybe there was a conversation prefacing the one you’d heard. And you’ll talk it out and everything will be okay. “I heard you and Scott talking at the bar.”
The hope you had, as minimal as it was, is dashed at your feet. He sucks in a deep breath and the look on his face has you crestfallen. You can feel your chest cave in. You feel so stupid all of a sudden. Constantly following after him, even before you started dating him. Looking at him with stars in your eyes and latching onto his every move and word. 
You’d worshiped him, put him up on a pedestal he didn’t deserve. Superhuman or not, at the end of the day he was still a man. And they’ve done nothing but disappoint you. You suck your teeth, gaze dropping to your feet as you fight back the tears in your eyes. “Right,” you whisper, stepping back from him. 
“Look,” he starts. You force your eyes up and watch as he rubs uncomfortably at the back of his neck. He takes a step towards you and you shake your head, stepping away from him. His arms fall to his sides and he sighs. “Sorry,” he mutters.
“That’s it?” You demand, tone incredulous. You weren’t some great love or anything. But that’s seriously all he has to say.
He opens his mouth, eyes softening as he stares at you. Then he snaps it shut, something covers his face and his expression is borderline cruel as he sneers at you. “Not my fault you got in over your head, kid. Never said I wanted anything more with you.” He points at you, and you suddenly feel like a little girl getting scolded. You’ve never had a partner make you feel this small, especially not Logan. “You were just convenient.”
You rear back like he slapped you. You think it might have hurt less than that. To know you wasted so much time on such a fucking dick makes you want to throw up. Or scream, or cry. You can’t decide on one. But your powers can, the walls are shaking, knick-knacks falling off your shelves as energy pulses from you. 
You’ll face the hurt, the sadness, the horrible ache of rejection later. Right now, you need him out of your face before you bring the whole mansion crumbling down around you. “Out.” You grind the word out, turning away from him and clutching your hands to your chest. You take in quick, rapid breaths, trying to think of anything other than how horrible you feel. 
You haven’t lost control like this in a long time. You’re not going to give him the satisfaction of being the reason you get put on probation again. He whispers your name, coming up behind you like he’s going to touch you. 
You want to lash out, want to hurt him like he’s hurt you. But you’ll only cause more damage than necessary. He’s not worth hurting the kids in the rooms around you. You shove past him, ignoring the way he shouts your name. 
You dart out into the hall, grateful there are so few people milling around. Nearly everyone’s asleep, just a few stragglers finishing up their homework for tomorrow. A few of them give you odd looks that turn concerned when they see Logan chasing after you. Your bones are practically vibrating by the time you make it outside. 
You rush towards the grove of trees at the back of the mansion. Your knees give out under you before you can make it very far. Energy pulses out of you in an explosive circle. You hear bark crack and turn into nothing but dust as the air around you trembles. 
It’s a relief, like going to the bathroom after holding it all day. You feel it drain away from you, a plug pulled out as the energy rushes from you. It slows after a minute, feeling more like a leak than a steady stream. 
Your hands shake by your sides as you lay trembling on the grass. Your eyelids flutter shut and you try and keep them open but it’s hard. All of your energy had been spent keeping yourself in check until you made it out of the mansion. 
“I’ve got you,” a voice mutters near your ear. Familiar strong arms dip under your knees, lifting you up and pulling you into a sturdy chest. You recognize the body, recognize the uncomfortable warmth coming from him. But your tongue won’t work and you're passing out before you can try and push him away. 
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You’re in your own bed when you wake up again. You’re briefly comforted by the warm feeling of the sheets around you before you realize how cold the other side of the bed is. You’re so used to the feeling of someone being beside you that it’s jarring for no one to be there. You sit up, a spark of anxiety lighting up inside you before it’s being quelled by an outside force. 
“I think it’s best if we keep that under control.” You’re not surprised to hear Charles’s voice. You can’t be, not when he’s actively keeping you calm and placid. You lean back against your headboard. You tilt your head lazily, looking at him while he looks out the window. 
“That tree was a hundred years old.”
You wince, face screwing up when you remember the large oak tree you obliterated last night. “I can remake it,” you promise. 
“You could,” he corrects, “but whatever happened last night between you and Logan is causing your powers to be volatile.” He finally turns towards you, the motor of his wheelchair a dull buzz as he smiles at you. There’s no resentment in his gaze at least. You’d known he wouldn’t be mad at you. He was used to accidents like this. Had you hurt another person, however, this would be an entirely different conversation. 
There’s a dull ache in your chest at the mention of Logan, but it’s quickly covered by another wave of calm from Charles. He smiles and holds out two metal bracelets. They’re thick, something red inlaid into the black metal. They look like handcuffs more than anything. His lips quirk up at your thought and you frown. 
“That’s what they are, right? Cuffs.”
“You’re not a criminal,” he assuages, his tone gentle as you take them from him. There’s a small silver button inside that you click and the metal springs open. You place your left wrist inside and it snaps shut, it’s a snug fit. It won’t be moving around anytime soon. You put the right one on and feel Charles’ hold on your mind ease the second it's closed. Every horrible feeling from last night crashes down on you and you nearly choke on it. 
You wonder how Charles managed to keep you asleep for so long without the roof crumbling. He chuckles, the noise tired. “Jean helped me. It took a while for the cuffs to be ready.”
The way he says that causes alarms to go off in your head. “How long?” He takes in a sharp breath and shakes his head, attempting to dismiss the question. “Charles,” you snap, voice bordering on a shout. 
“Two days,” he says. You gasp and slump back against your sheets. He says your name but you get to your feet and pace. You don't know what to do with yourself. There’s energy buzzing under your skin, but the cuffs are keeping it at bay. It feels wrong like your pores are being clogged with acid. 
“Two days.” You look over at him, horror painting your face and you can see why he was so apprehensive to tell you. “It’s never been that bad before.”
“No,” he starts cautiously, “It hasn’t. Which makes me wonder, what transpired between you and Logan that destroyed my grandfather’s tree?” 
You cringe at the mention of the tree. He’s never going to let go of that. Even when you recreate it, he’s still going to hold it over your head. His teasing eases you out of the spiral you were heading down and you glance over at him. “You’ve been in my head for two days. I’m sure both you and Jean already know.”
He smacks his lips together and shrugs, clasping his hands in front of himself. “Simply seeing if you wanted to discuss it, my dear.”
You vehemently shake your head and sit back down on your bed. “No, I don’t want to talk about him. I don't want to see him.” Charles gives you a look like he doesn’t believe you and you hate it. You truly don’t want to see Logan again. Just thinking about him makes you want to explode. He was a pig and you regret ever wasting your time on him. 
There’s a shriveled part of your heart weeping somewhere, but you crush in your fist until it shuts the fuck up. “Right,” Charles nods. “I do believe it’s best for your recovery that we keep you two separated for a while.” He rolls past you and places a comforting hand on yours. “Rest, you’ll feel more like yourself soon.”
You nod and watch him leave. Exhaustion suddenly seems to drop its heavy weight on your shoulders. Two days being restrained by telepaths probably wasn’t very restful. You lay across your comforter, rolling over and hoping when you wake up your heart will be healed. 
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Two weeks. Two pathetic, snot-filled, and disgusting weeks of sobbing over Logan. You felt like a sixteen-year-old again, crying over the boy that didn’t like you back. It was awful, especially knowing that the entirety of the mansion knew what was wrong with you. 
Your students would leave your class and you would lock your doors, hiding under your desk as you wept. Those with superhearing or telepathy would bake you cookies and leave gifts at your door. It was sweet, but honestly made you feel ten times worse. You felt like your sadness was a burden you were forcing everyone to carry. 
Your mother would be so disappointed in you. She’d always told you that you mourn a relationship half the amount of time you were in it. Of course, hers never lasted more than a few weeks. And she’d had more boyfriends than you could count on three hands. 
Besides, you were allowed to wallow for a while. This was someone you were starting to fall for. To be so blind going into and leaving the relationship was awful. Having the rug ripped out from under you had been cruel and needless. You’re resentful and grateful he’d been so horrifically honest with you. On one hand, if the relationship had just ended, you’d be pining after him. Wondering what you’d done to lose such an amazing guy. 
But being faced with the brutal truth, knowing he was a piece of shit, it makes you hate yourself. You should have seen it. Should have known that he didn’t want you like you wanted him. But there were never any signs. You’d run it through your head a million times. Every interaction you’ve ever had with him. None of it shows you where he’d been lying to you or using you. You can’t even trust yourself anymore. 
There’s a loud knock on your door and you sniffle, tossing another tissue in the trash as you go to answer it. “Hello?” You croak. You can barely see, eyes puffy and so swollen your vision is blurry. 
“Holy hell,” Ororo scoffs and shakes her head. She pushes into your room and slams the door shut before anyone can see how awful you look. To be fair, you keep yourself relatively put together during the day. But it’s after hours now, you’re allowed to be a mess. 
“You look like shit.” 
Neither of you are prepared as you begin to blubber. Your lips tremble and your voice shakes as you begin to sob. “I know,” you wail. “I hate it.” Ororo’s eyes widen in horror and she quickly pushes you into your desk chair, grabbing a box of tissues and shoving it in your hands. 
“I feel,” you stutter, having to take in a few shuddering breaths before you can get the words out. “He tore out my heart and ripped it up with his stupid fucking claws.”
“Okay, okay,” Ororo runs her hands over your arms, trying to soothe you. “I know, sh, it’s okay.” She groans, “Stop crying,” she pleads under her breath. 
“I’m trying!” You snap at her, running hands over your wet cheeks and trying to swallow down the rest of your tears. 
“Look,” she steps back and shakes her head. She glances down at you, disgust poorly hidden on her face. She’s really fucking bad at comforting someone. “This is awful, I can’t take it anymore. You two keep dancing around each other and you’re putting everyone on edge. You won’t stop crying and he keeps going off,” she holds her hands up and shakes her head. “I just can’t do it anymore.”
You frown, brows turning down in confusion. “What?” You didn’t think Logan would be mad. You pictured him skipping through a field of daisies, happy to finally be rid of you. It only made you hate yourself more that you were still crying over it all. 
“He’s kind of losing it,” she seems reluctant to relent the information. “Look,” she kneels in front of you and snatches the tissue box from your hand. She tosses it to the side and forces you to meet her eyes. “He’s in love with you. We all know it, Jean’s confirmed it. He loves you, he needs you, he’s just terrified to admit it. He’s afraid of what's going to happen if you two become real.”
Your eyes widen with the realization. She nods enthusiastically as you connect the pieces. You can’t deny what’s so plainly laid in front of you when she assures you that even Jean knows. Jean knowing means she just did a nosy dive into his head. 
You can picture what could happen. With rom-com levels of nauseating romance, you run to find him. You tell him you don’t care that he’s afraid. You don’t care he pushed you away and you do love him. He’s not going to lose you. Nothing can rip you apart. You ride off into the sunset on Scott’s bike blah blah blah. 
This isn’t a fucking romance. And you’re not going to cry over a man who's too much of a pussy to admit he has feelings. You like men who have emotional depth deeper than a teaspoon. “Are you fucking kidding me?"
Ororo’s face blanches and she slowly backs away from you as you stand. “No,” she answers slowly, like she’s not sure of herself now. 
“That’s what I’ve been crying over?” You feel upset for an entirely different reason. You never misread the signs. You never missed a hint that he didn’t feel what you did. He did! He was just happier letting you doubt yourself and the love you held for him than admitting he felt something. You tear off the depression hoodie you’ve been living in for the past two weeks. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!”
You don’t know where you’re going. Normally, you’d run into a forest to let out a blast of energy. It drained you enough that you wouldn’t have to feel anything. But with these cuffs on, you can’t do anything. 
You storm out of your room and stomp down the stairs, uncaring who you wake up. You’ve wasted so much time on Logan, you refuse to stay in your room and cry for another fucking night. 
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“I want to see her,” Logan growls. He tries to move around Charles, but he stops him with his mind, holding him in place while Jean disappears inside your room. Logan watches her go and glares at her retreating back as the door closes behind her. 
It’s been a day already, you’ve never needed to be out for more than a few hours. He doesn’t want to think that there’s anything wrong with you, that he might have permanently broken something inside you. 
That talk at the bar with Scott had been stupid. He would have said anything to get him to shut the fuck up and leave him alone. He didn’t really mean what he said, he just wanted him to back off. And saying that your relationship wasn’t anything was quicker than pouring out every thought he’s had of you. 
It was easier lying than it was to admit just how much he wanted you. Just how far he would go for you. But then you’d overheard, and you brought it up. And there’d been faith on your face. Like even you couldn’t believe what he had said because you could see through the bullshit. 
But all Logan had seen was a way out. This was an opportunity to finally get out of the suffocating clutches of something he didn’t want to admit was love. He took the chance before he could think. It’s what he was used to. Taking the easy way out, especially when it came to shit like emotions. 
He hadn’t thought you were going to explode, though. Because that’s exactly what you’d done. By the time he’d caught up to you, you’d burned a crater into the ground and had destroyed Charles’ stupid fucking tree. 
Seeing you like that, laying there lifeless, it terrified him. He didn’t want to live in a world that you weren’t in. There was no fucking point. It was sobering, realizing that, and then realizing that he was the reason you were like that in the first place. 
He didn’t want to live without you and he certainly would never be able to come to terms with being the reason you were dead. But it didn’t matter, whatever realizations he was coming to. Charles and Jean were completely blocking him from your room. They weren’t even giving him a chance to look at you. And he was about five seconds away from ripping the old bastard’s head off and just barrelling inside. 
He didn’t care what they said, he needed to see that you were okay. “I’m afraid you’re not going to be able to see her for a very long time.”
“Stay out of my head,” Logan growls, glaring down at the man. “What are you talking about?” He presses, finally processing the rest of his sentence.
Charles sighs and rolls away from him. Logan glares at his back but ultimately follows. “You were the cause of this, yes?” Reluctantly, Logan nods, there’s no point in hiding it. He’s sure Charles already knows. “For her own safety, the two of you will need to remain separated.”
That had been it. There was no arguing about it. No fighting Charles. It was for your safety that he stayed away from you. No matter how much he wanted to explain himself, he wouldn’t risk another meltdown like that. 
You didn’t deserve to get hurt because of someone like him. He wouldn’t be able to stand hurting you again. 
But two weeks seemed like a lot. At a certain point, he’s sure you’re just avoiding him. He knows he can’t blame you. He’d been a fucking idiot. But that didn’t make him any happier. If anything, he was getting more and more pissed off every day. 
He had less patience for mistakes. Was lashing out at the kids more often and don’t even get started on the petty fucking fights he was picking with Scott. How long did you fucking need before you talked to him again?
He knows you’re upset, your crying keeps everyone up at night. Something he’s sure you’d be mortified to learn about. Why won’t you let him comfort you? Why do you have to be so petulant, running around the corner every time you see him? Pointedly ignoring him when you’re in the same room together. 
He could fix this, make this all better. But you’re just not letting him. He knows this is why he loves you. It’s why he was so drawn to you. You seem like a bundle of nerves, constantly flitting around and keeping yourself small. It had been off-putting at first. And then he’d seen you training with Scott, kicking his ass more like. A switch had been flicked in his head. 
He could finally see you for what you were. He finally realized that it was your abilities you were keeping small. You were a fucking spitfire and you didn’t hesitate to tell him off, he loved it. Loved arguing with you just so he could see you get all pissed off. 
But that stubborn attitude he loved was really biting him in the ass right now. 
There’s a knock on his bedroom door and he doesn’t even get to pretend it’s going to be you. He smells Jean’s perfume and rolls his eyes. He puffs on his cigar and contemplates ignoring her.
“Don’t be a jackass, open the damn door.” 
Fuckin’ telepaths. “What?” He snaps at her the second the door is open. Her face screws up when she smells the smoke from his cigar. He knows she wants to put it out, and can see it in the twitch of her fingers. He raises a brow, a silent challenge to try him. He’s itching for another fight and she can feel it. 
She lets out a sharp breath, choosing her battles wisely and backing off. He’s almost disappointed. “We need to talk. This whole thing between the two of you is ridiculous. You’re a mess, she’s a mess…”
Her voice trails off into nothing more than the annoying pitch of a fly. Logan can’t be bothered to listen to her scold him. He’s not a fucking kid, and maybe if you were acting like an adult, they wouldn’t be having this problem. 
A few doors down he can hear you shouting, then the door to your room slams open. He darts off his bed, opening his own door to see what you’re doing. He only sees the back of your head as you angrily stomp down the stairs. 
Enough is fucking enough, he was finishing this now. He was sick of your side of the bed being empty and the stupid fucking glare on your face every time you saw him. He doesn’t even bother saying anything to Jean as he leaves, just chases after you. 
Jean watches him go with a perturbed look. She steps out of the room and glances down the hall. Ororo steps out of your room and walks towards her. “Well?” Jean probes. 
Ororor shrugs, “She’s over it.” Jean smiles but it’s quickly wiped off her face by Ororo’s expression. “Not in the way we wanted.
Jean clenches her eyes shut and takes in a deep breath. She needs you two to figure your shit out or she’s never going to be able to get a good night’s sleep again.
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You find yourself in the gym. It’s not your favorite place in the world, you don’t usually get to train with the others. You’re stuck with telepaths, mainly the ones who can shut your powers down if you get too out of control. That hasn’t been a problem since you got the cuffs, but you’ve been too sad to test them out. 
Now you find yourself obliterating a punching bag. You wrap the energy around your fists and let it protect the thin skin as you pummel into the bag. You don’t know what else to do. You can’t have energy meltdowns anymore. You have to try and funnel it all out physically, but it’s not working. Nothing is. 
“Imagining it’s me?” You pause midswing. You glance over to the door just in time to see Logan stalking towards you. He unzips his jacket slowly. So slowly it almost seems provocative. He tugs it off and tosses it onto a nearby bench. 
You scoff as you watch him. “Do you ever have a shirt on?”
He shrugs and moves towards the ring in the middle of the gym. His movements are lithe and fluid as he hops onto the ring, every bit a wild animal. You watch as the muscles in his torso ripple and force your eyes off of him. You try and focus your attention back on the bag, but all your earlier energy is gone. Your mind is completely wrapped around Logan. 
Which you’re sure is exactly what he wants, or he wouldn’t be staring at you so smugly as he leans against the ropes and waits for you to acknowledge him. You suck on your teeth, irritation blooming in sporadic bursts throughout your body that has you nearly shaking. Finally, you give in. 
He smirks the second your eyes meet, “I can take it, sweetheart. A lot better than that little toy of yours can.” He nods towards the punching bag but the insinuation isn’t lost on you. You and Logan had been very active in your relationship. You could barely go a day without tasting each other. 
You’ve been pent up since the breakup. You’d given in a few days ago, pulled out your old vibrator, and tried to bring even a semblance of joy back into your life. But nothing could compare to Logan. 
His tongue darts out, wetting his lips as he waits for you to react. He’s standing there, staring down at you with all the surety in the world that you’re going to fuck him. It makes you want to dig your nails in and rip him apart, bit by bit. 
You can already picture it in your mind, using your abilities to pick him apart until he’s nothing but molecules dispersed through the air. He’s lucky you have the cuffs on, without them you’re sure he’d already be dead. 
You smirk and move towards the edge of the ring, your voice drops as you purr up at him, “You wanna play, Logan?”
He grins and moves off the ropes, starting towards you as you make your way onto the ring. You’re slightly less graceful than he was, but you’re too focused on wiping the smug look off his face to pay attention. “Come on kid,” he taunts, voice as low as it usually is when he’s fucking into you. “Let’s see what you got.”
You’re not stupid enough to just outright swing at him. You feint to the right and bring your knee up into his ribs. He only needs one hand to wrap around your thigh and drag you forward. His other hand goes to your hip, tugging you closer until you’re practically grinding against each other. You grit your teeth and glare up at him. 
“Come on, sweetheart, that can’t be all you got for me.” Energy wraps around your head, blurring the air around you. You slam your temple against his, it provides enough of a distraction for you to yank your leg out of his grip. You throw your right fist into his ear, bouncing back with a grin as he shakes his head. 
He practically growls as he reorients himself. You shrug and smirk, “What, don’t tell me that’s all you got, wolvie.”
“Don’t fuckin’ call me that,” he grumbles. You open your mouth, prepared to taunt him again. But he’s lunging towards you and you just barely have enough time to dart out of his way. You know he’s going easy on you. He could have had you just then if he really wanted this. 
But he’s dragging this out. Forcing you to spend as much time with him as you can. It only pisses you off further. You plant your foot on his back and kick him forward. He barely even stumbles and it only further confirms your suspicions. “Stop fucking holding back,” you yell at him. 
He turns around slowly. You almost expect there to be a sneer on his face, something angry. Instead, he looks fucking thrilled, like this is all just foreplay for him. He laughs, so low you can barely hear it, and his chest flexes as his claws come out. 
“You sure?” It’s a taunt, a dare, he knows you aren’t going to take the bait. You’d be stupid to, you don’t heal like he does. Once those things get in you, you’re screwed. But right now, you’re too pissed off to try and care. 
You don’t say anything, you just duck under his fist as he swings at you. You know he made it easy for you, giving you an opening to fall into. He’s treating you like you’re something fragile. And maybe you are. One wrong move in this fight and you might not make it through the night. But anger is making you blind to logic. 
Him playing fair just makes you want to play dirty. You use the opening he gives you, letting energy form around your fist and pulling back just enough to slam into his ribs. He coughs, doubling over as you hear bones crack under your hit. He’ll heal in seconds, you can’t bring yourself to feel too bad for him. 
Maybe if he ever took you seriously you might not be such a bitch. But he didn’t think you were good enough to be honest with and he still was treating you like a plaything. In your opinion, he deserves whatever you give him and more. He doubles over and you swing your leg around, bringing it down across his face. 
You hear a crack as your socked foot connects with his face, something crunches underneath you. And when your sole hits the mat again you see the blood leaking from his nose. You almost apologize. Almost, then you see the look on his face. His pupils are swallowing the hazel of his eyes, lips parted as he pants through his teeth. He looks fucking animalistic. 
You have no warning as he pounces on you. His lips smother your own, moving over you with little to no grace. There’s nothing romantic or gentle about this. His fingers are digging so hard into your shirt, you’re sure you hear the seams rip. But you can’t bring yourself to care. 
One of your hands goes to his hair, tugging at the roots until he’s groaning into your mouth. You rake your nails up his back roughly. He cusses against your lips, hand traveling up to your chin so he can roughly jerk you back. 
He stares down at you, a silent question on his face. You’ve barely nodded before he’s descending upon you again. Lips and teeth clash borderline painfully as he lowers you onto the mat. You’re missing all the usual love and tenderness he treats you with, but you don’t care. 
You want to be rough. You want to hurt him like he hurt you, make him ache for you the way you do him. You wrap your legs around his, lifting your pelvis until you have enough leverage to flip him. Your thighs straddle his waist and you grind down against the prominent bulge in his sweatpants. 
He groans into your open mouth, large palms grabbing at your ass and spreading you so he can thrust between your clothed thighs. You can’t help but moan at the friction. It’s just enough to keep you on edge, he pulls back every time you think you might be close to something real building. 
You rip your mouth off his. He glares up at you as you grab his hair and yank his head back. You slam his head hard enough into the mat for it to echo through the room and he growls against your grip. You grin down at him as you slowly get off him. You make a show of stripping, enjoying the way his eyes track your movements. He looks like a dog, panting and waiting for his treat. 
You’re tempted to get yourself off, making him watch, and then leave him straining against his sweatpants. But you need this bad, need him to scratch the itch you can’t reach so you can finally get him out of your head. Neither of you are patient as he jerks his sweatpants down just enough for his cock to pop out. 
It’s already leaking from the tip like a faucet. You kneel, straddling his waist again. You don’t have to do much to slick him up. You pump him a few times before he’s gripping your wrist and jerking your hand away. “Get up here,” he commands, voice rough as he grips your hips. You don’t even get a chance to protest before he’s flipping you over. 
He grabs your thighs and wraps them around his waist. Your ass is off the ground, hovering above his lap as he lines up with your slit. You moan when the tip rubs against your clit. “Whose teasing now?” You grit out, glaring at him. 
His lips curl up, that insufferable smirk on his face before he slams into you. The attitude is practically fucked out of you as he starts pumping in and out. You groan, raking your hands down his chest. He fucking moans at the pain, blood blooming under your nails and immediately closing the further down you go. 
Neither of you are giving up this fight, you don’t want to lose, not even while you’re fucking. He pulls out of you and flips you over so fast you don’t even have time to whine. He’s back in you before you can blink, hips slapping into you in a way that you know is going to leave bruises tomorrow. You’re not going to be able to sit for a week and he knows it. His hands are groping at the skin of your ass, pulling you apart and watching the skin ripple as he fucks into you. 
You’re not going to last long. You’ve been too desperate, too pent up while you’ve been pissed off at him. He leans over you, draping himself across you lazily. You groan at the added weight, it only adds to the sensation, only makes you want him deeper inside you. “Thought you didn’t want me anymore, sweetheart.” He whispers in your ear and you flutter around him as his hand snakes around your waist, rubbing tight circles on your clit. 
You open your mouth but all that comes out is disjointed moans. You know there’s something sarcastic in there, and he must know too because he laughs at your pathetic mumbled sentence. “I don’t know,” he leans back and watches as he makes room for himself inside you. “Seem to need me real bad now.”
Your nails dig into the mat, energy leaking through your fingertips and warming up the canvas beneath you. You can feel it fluctuating, fighting against the cuffs the closer he brings you to the edge. “Fuck you,” the words escape you at a particularly deep thrust and you struggle to keep your eyes open. 
He pauses and you nearly cry at the loss of movement. “Sorry, couldn’t hear you. What’d you say? Stop?”
You glare over your shoulder at him  “Don’t you fucking dare, Logan.” You let your power push up against his back, forcing his hips to move again. He chuckles at the move, fingers creating figure eights on your nub. 
“Wouldn’t dream of it, sweetheart,” he protests, voice innocent. “Ah, fuck,” his voice is nothing more than low grunts and groans in your ear the closer the both of you get to your release. You can’t speak anymore, can’t think. You can feel it cresting higher and higher inside you. 
Your abilities are rising with your release. They’re pushing against the cuffs, fighting desperately against the control the foreign metal has on your powers. You can feel it, heat building up under your skin, like a tingling on the tip of your tongue that you just can’t reach. It’s Logan’s release that finally tips you over the edge. 
The way his breath catches and his hips stutter in their perfect rhythm as warmth floods you from the inside out. You can feel it, him, dribbling down your thighs and staining the mat beneath you. It has you clenching around him, pushing your hips back weakly while you let the feeling overwhelm you. You nearly black out. Two weeks without him hadn’t felt long until you remembered what you were missing. 
You lose your sense of time, dropping to the mat like your bones have gone liquid, dripping out of you. You can feel Logan draped over you still, his weight a comforting blanket that nearly has you drifting to sleep. Naked, in the middle of the boxing ring. He pulls out of you and you whimper at the loss. 
He shushes you, rubbing a hand up your spine and pressing a gentle kiss to the side of your temple. He wraps his arms around you, laying down and pulling you back into his chest. It takes a few minutes of quiet cuddling for you to remember what exactly led you down to the gym in the first place. 
You feel disgusted with yourself for giving in to him so easily. It’s clear what his plan had been. And you’d fallen for it hook, line, and sinker. You’d barely even fought against him. Of course, you could reason that you needed to get the tension out. This was the perfect way to funnel out your built-up energy. 
But you’re disgusted with yourself for giving in to him so easily. You just disregarded dignity and self-respect for a chance to get him between your legs. You were such a fucking idiot. No wonder this is all he wanted you for. 
“Shit,” you mutter, trying to pull yourself out of his grip. Your eyes widen as his arms tighten around your waist. He tugs you back down until he’s got you in what essentially feels like a headlock. He could easily pass it off as spooning, but it feels a little more demanding than that. “Logan,” you warn, the silent peace of the moment officially shattered. 
“Don’t,” he gripes. You can fight against him for as long as you want, but you’ll only tire yourself out. His arms are literally metal bands around you. “Let me talk and then you can run off.” You huff and wait, but he never speaks. Finally, you look over your shoulder and glare at him. “Well?”
You roll your eyes, “Fuck’s sake,” you mutter. “Alright, speak.”
You can feel his grin against the back of your head. If he didn’t have you in such a tight grip, you’d elbow him in the gut just to be petty. “I made a mistake,” you scoff and he keeps going. Stopping you from interrupting him with something bitchy. “You weren’t just something convenient to me, sweetheart.” he pauses and chuckles, “You’re a huge fucking pain in my ass.”
“Is this your idea of an apology?” You snap, “Because this is pathetic.” 
He doesn’t say anything and you’re tempted to snark at him again. But then the world is flipped on its side as he jerks you around and forces you to face him. Your chests rub together, the sweaty skin sticking together and bordering on uncomfortable. “You ever shut up?” He asks, but there’s no heat to the words. If anything he looks fond of you, and it makes you shift around, trying not to look him in the eye. But there’s nowhere for you to hide, you’re both naked and bare before each other. 
You’re as physically vulnerable as he must feel emotionally. And as much as this is a horrible way to display how he’s feeling, you’re starting to understand him a little better. You know why this conversation is so hard for him, why he can’t accept that someone truly loves him and he loves her back. 
But that’s not going to get him out of it. He’s still yet to say the words. Maybe if he manned up and said something real you’d consider forgiving him. You give him an expectant look and he sighs, forehead pressed against yours as he slumps over you. You want to pretend you’re annoyed at the contact, but you’ve been craving it since you ran away two weeks ago.
You’ve been desperate for this warmth that only he can provide you. Without realizing it, you nuzzle further into his chest, hands drifting up to wrap around his bare waist. Logan feels the tightness in him ease slightly at the way you curl into him. He’s got a shot, even if you try and tell him he doesn’t.  
It’s silent for a while, while you linger in the emotions of what just happened and he tries to find the right words. He leans down, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear and smiling against the shell of your ear. “I love you,” he whispers. 
You’d told yourself you’d only consider forgiving him if he said those words. But that’s only because you’d never thought he would actually say it. You didn’t think he was capable of admitting that to himself. It seems so out of character for him. But, maybe, you don’t know him as well as you thought you did. 
He pulls back, hand landing on your jaw and gently guiding your head out of his neck. He gives you an expectant look but you’re finding it hard to meet his eyes. You’ve been waiting for him to say that, but now it feels like you can’t. You’re still struggling to forgive him. He put you through so much unnecessary hurt just because he couldn’t face his own feelings. 
And now you’re struggling to do the same. “I want to say it back,” you tell him. “But how am I supposed to trust that the next time things get hard, you won’t lash out again?”
He frowns, an irritated huff of breath shooting out his nose. But you know it’s frustration towards himself. For letting you both get to this point because he couldn’t just say three words. “I’ll wait,” he promises. “For as long as it takes, I’ll wait.” 
You smile and nod, wrapping your arms around him and burying your face in his neck. You’re sure you’ll be saying it sooner rather than later. But what’s the harm in making him squirm a little? He deserves it. 
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A/N: I don’t write smut, it’s literally in my rules. I think I stared at a gif of him for too long and some horny ass demon possessed me and made me write this. Forgive me, universe, I’m no better than a man.
end. — I do not own the characters or the comics/movies Wolverine/X-Men, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.
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cherry-leclerc · 10 months
Text
lolita ☆ cs55
genre: age gap (10 years), porn with plot, affairs, forbidden romance, angst, mentions of suicide, mentions of drugs, tragedy, erotic literature
word count: 14.9k
You were young, alluring, floating through a disastrous life with the touch of a thousand angels. Carlos was successful, irresistible and someone who often kept a distance from catastrophe. Never in a million years did he think he would have a complete moment of weakness. Especially the week of his wedding. 
nsfw warning under the cut!
18+... sexual tension, penetrative sex, dry humping, riding, size kink, oral sex (f and m receiving), semi - public sex, deepthroating, praise, fingering, handjobs, lots of dirty foreplay, slapping (like once AH), a bit of edging, overstimulation, a bit of crying, sucking on fingers, squirting - i should stop now, oh god.  
inspired by this and this !
STOP AND READ:
This by no means - in any shape or form - is something that should be admired or looked up to. It does deal with serious topics such as: grooming, suicide, and drugs. While the reader is of age (19), this is not my way of impulsing my own readers - especially younger ones, if by any chance they come across this - to follow this mindset. Dark themes will take place and if that is not something you are comfortable with, then that is okay, I definitely have more light hearted fics in my masterlist. “Love stories” aren’t always filled with flowers and rainbows, they can also be hurtful and confusing, often misunderstood. This is fictional. Given, this is inspired by Lolita and Blue Velvet by Lana Del Rey (*everyone cheers*) – what that means is that this story will not have a happy ending. Verses of Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov are also mentioned (extremely controversial book - as it should be).
cherry here!…hi, guys! i hope you all enjoy and i’m gonna do it now: I’M SORRY. 
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She was as dangerous as poison could ever be - with no good intentions. She was malicious, sweet laughter that would make anyone fall in love. An Angel walking on Earth, curiously making it her playground. 
He was intelligent. A man of few words, but also simply so, the seven deadly sins all wrapped up in one. Keeping a distance from things he knew would bring him no good.
But in order to understand, we would have to take you back to where it all began. 
Where Paradise met Hell.
-
Growing up in Italy for some odd reason made you out to be the girl you were. Men there would throw themselves at any opportunity if they saw a single daisy looking girl in eyesight. At first it felt as if you were walking a tightrope; you knew it wouldn’t be the wisest idea to fall straight into their traps. Except, slowly, it made sense.
They knew how to sweet talk someone so young and naive - you’ll give them that. It only took one taste and that was the moment you knew. 
You liked them older.
Men fucked in a way boys never would. Every single one would always put your needs first - but there was this one man that had you realizing how fucked up you could be in order to get what you want. That’s one prize you’d cheat to win.
And that’s a story for later.
-
Moving away for college was the best decision you felt you would ever make in your entire life. Given, Italy was home, but the people in it weren’t. Often, you find yourself missing your rendezvous but studying abroad in Spain wasn’t much different.
Note; you didn’t grow up with a tight knit family. Your mother was a drug addict with half of her days knocked out on the couch, your father was someone who was occasionally in the picture. He tried his best.
And your older sister, Ollie? 
Well, you’d honestly forgotten you even had one. 
Some may say that you’re a whore, a slut, a homewrecker, or any other Spanish slur that spits Madrid, but you never cared. You were having fun and why were you the one always being blamed? Perhaps, men, too, should think with their heads rather than their dicks.
Which is how you find yourself still repeating the familiar pattern you had started a long time ago. Riding your professor shouldn’t feel this good. Mierda, he would groan as you bounce up and down like a bunny. Mewling, you shake the feeling of remorse. Not when he felt this good. 
Your phone ringing is what makes you stop, him still inside of you, twitching. Ciao? His calloused fingers would slide up to pinch your nipples as you lightly gasped. 
“Tesoro! Haven’t heard your voice in so long.”
Your father’s tone makes you wince at the reminder. Occasionally, he would check up on you in a way you would assume other fathers did for their daughters. You could never hate him, though. In his own way, deep down, he still cared.
“Papi, how are you?”
Sliding off of his lap, you zip your dress back on as you pace the lecture room. Bored, he takes out his secret whiskey from under his desk. Your sister is getting married in a few weeks! I was thinking you could fly back home so you could join us. The thought alone made your stomach churn as you bit down onto your thumb. Signaling at the older man, you click your fingers, hinting for a glass of your own. He obliges, handing it to you.
“I’m busy with summer courses. Maybe I can send a gift?”
You try everything in the book in order to get out of what seems like a crappy, dull, Italian wedding. It had been ages since you last stepped foot there. In no right mind would Ollie’s wedding be the one to change that. But he says things that get to you. I haven’t seen you in years. Neither has your sister. She misses you, you know?
You bite down on a snarky remark as you down the rest of the gold liquid. Last time you spoke, she promised that you were dead to her. That she never wanted to hear from you again. In the moment, it hurt, but you grew used to the idea. And what younger sister doesn’t pick up on what older sister says? Now, you despised her as much as she did you.
“Ovviamente. I’ll be there.”
-
It’s hot as soon as you land. That you didn’t miss. Ale, your fathers chauffeur, picks you up with a bright smile. Saddened, it dawns on you that you hadn’t seen one of those in ages. He’s nice. Let's you sit in the passenger's seat as he introduces himself. He mentions he has 5 granddaughters and has been married for almost 50 years. It’s sweet. Makes you feel human.
Pulling into the driveway, you almost want to correct him. This isn’t my fathers house. You must be mistaken. Only, he says he isn’t. That he had recently moved into his Italian mansion a year ago. You’re skeptical for a minute, but realize you can’t be one to tell. Years have passed; things change.
Still, that didn’t stop you from gawking at the ginormous house that sits on a hill; overlooking all of Tuscany. It even had a beautiful view of the ocean. Why couldn’t you grow up with this?
“I’ll inform your father that you have arrived safely.”
Taking it all in, you slowly pace the entrance, analyzing everything in sight. The crystals hanging from the chandelier, large - expensive - portraits, shiny mirrors. Quirking your head to the side, you glide over to the golden trophy sitting in the middle of the spacious entry.
Carlos Sainz Sr. : Rally Driver of-
“That belonged to my father. He passed away a year ago.”
Startled, you grip onto the trophy tighter as you slightly jump in panic. You curse yourself for being caught as you delicately place it back down before turning your attention to the booming voice.
Instantly, you’re hit with lust. Standing in front of you is a tall man - around his 20’s, perhaps - dark brown eyes narrowed down on you like knives. Messy, untamed, brown hair. Large nose, plump lips, dark brows. His figure is something you can’t wrap your head around that even exists. Richard Mille's watch clung onto his wrist. Giorgio Armani pressed up against his chest, it almost looked as if it didn’t fit due to his rippling muscles. Woody, rich, scent filling up the room. 
He was the most beautiful man you had ever laid eyes on. 
“I am so, so, sorry.”
Your voice is so soft, it has him intrigued. You wore a short pastel yellow dress that didn’t leave much to his imagination; paired with converse and tube socks. Rosy tint on your cheekbones from the humidity. Berry lips. Wide, innocent eyes. He’d be lying if he said you didn’t take his own breath away. Even though you stood far enough away, he could still smell your vanilla perfume. 
Inching closer, he waves you off. “I was kidding. My father is well and alive.” You tippy toe nervously before planting your feet back down. 
“That’s not a nice thing to say.”
And he’s surprised with your response. Yet, he finds himself extending his tan hand out to you. “I’m Carlos.”
Carlos. His name sounds as attractive as his appearance. Strong and sure. But also…dark. You shake his hand, legs quivering at his warm touch. Deep down, he knew how much he affected you - it’s something he’s grown quite accustomed to, having people admire his looks, but it took a lot to not show that you had the same effect on him.
“Nice to meet you, Carlos. Do you work for my father?”
Amused, he lets out a deep chuckle. Even a simple sound like that had you pressing your legs together, arousal dripping in between. 
“You don’t know who I am?” You shake your head, confused. Should you? He smiles. “That’s okay. We haven’t met before…Though you should get to know me since you’re already here…”
Wait.
“You know,” he leans his head a bit, floppy hair following, “Ollie.”
No, no, no.
“It’s so nice to finally meet my fiancée’s sister.”
Foolishly, you try your best to hide your surprise. How does a man like him end up with a bratty, narcissist, like your sister?
What was so fucking special about her?
Envy fills your veins as you try to show that this hasn’t phased you. Excited cheers echo down the hallway as your father runs over, embracing you into a warm hug. You’re here! Wincing, you lean into his touch, eyes still trained on the magnetic man. 
Only then, did Ollie fly down the stairs, immediately running into Carlos’ arms. Making a big deal out of it, she kisses him as she runs her hands against his chest. 
“Come here, tesoro. I’ll show you where you’ll be staying.”
The entire time; Carlos kept his eyes trained on you. 
-
It didn’t make sense. Part of you knows it never will. You’ve only just met him, but you can tell he must’ve been fucked in the head to willingly choose someone like Ollie. Sure, she seemed sweet and kind, but she was anything but that. 
Dinner that night is carbonara. Carlos is extremely talented. He cooked this just for you. Tight lipped, you thank him, looking down at your plate to avoid his burning gaze. 
“How’s school?”
Turning to your father, you remind yourself that you were here for him; because he wanted you there. That’s all that should matter. “Very good. Thank you for asking, papi.”
The sound of glass hitting the table erupts as Carlos hurriedly goes to pick it up, quickly murmuring a strong apology. His dark gaze shortly flickers past you. It leaves you squirming. 
Clearing his throat, he takes a sip of his wine. “Where do you study?” Spain, you tell him as he beams. “No way. I was born and raised in Madrid. Moved to Italy a few years ago for work.” Letting out a laugh, you find the coincidence funny. He moved from Spain to Italy and you moved from Italy to Spain. 
“What do you do for work?”
“He’s a Formula 1 driver. Drives for Scuderia Ferrari,” Ollie weasels in as she smirks down on you. Anger bubbles inside of her when your attention remains on the Spaniard. Drumming your fingers against the table, you lick your lips. Formula 1? He’s about to explain it all up until Ollie butts in once again. She rubs his hand, a glistening ring shining right in front of you. You physically have to force yourself to look away. “Oh, amor, she doesn’t know what that is. She’s too…young.” 
You know she’s trying to make a weak point: you’re only a baby, therefore, you don’t compare to her. And yes, you are young, 19, but it was stupid of her to think that it bothered you. You tsk before leaning back against your chair. 
“Of course, my mistake. I forgot I was still a pure flower instead of a wilting one.”
Ollie’s face switches to bright red as she grips onto his hand. An entertained smile slips onto his lips before flattening back out. He rubs her hand, trying to calm her down. You can’t stop the jealousy burning from within.
“I didn’t mean you, Mr. Sainz.”
The 29 year old brushed you as if nothing, a smile displayed. Eyeing you both, Ollie suddenly stands up, chair screeching. Why don’t you help me bring out the cookies I baked? Ever so gracefully, you nod. Following after her, you stop suddenly as she spins, hair slapping her face. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing here? Are you here to ruin my life with your existence?”
“I might.”
Her left eye twitches as she growls angrily. If she didn’t make it this easy to tick her off, then you’d be bored, but luckily for you, it was unchallenging to get under her skin. “This is my wedding; my future husband - so don’t fuck that up like everything else you’ve ever done.”
You try to pretend as if her words didn’t affect you as you stare back blankly. Marching over to the counter, she opens up a box of cookies before sliding them onto a polished dish, leaving you standing there alone.
-
You thank the higher Gods for not letting you cross roads with Ollie for the next few days. Though, you’re a bit bummed out that you haven’t seen Carlos much either. Peeking out the window, you could see the way a group of workers hurried to set up for the joint bachelorette taking place later that night, right on the beach. The waves look magnificent, so without a second thought, you slip on a bikini before rushing out the door with your necessities. 
Lathering a goop of coconut sunscreen, you hum softly to yourself. Weren’t you going out with your sister? Looking up, you see Carlos standing in front of you with his face slightly scrunched up from the bright sun. His cheeks looked as if they’d just been pinched. “Where to?”
He takes a seat next to you. “She said she was going out to go buy a few flowers for later. Said she would invite you.” You shake your head, already bored with the idea.
“You know her,” you tap your head, “Forgetful.”
He cocks his head to the side as he shuts his right eye for a moment. “You two don’t get along, do you?” You try making up a silly excuse. Of course we do. We’re sisters. But he’s looking right into your orbs as if he sees right past your weak attempts. “You’re right. I could be wrong.”
It stays quiet for a while - only the soft breeze being heard. You can see him from your peripheral vision; eyes shut as he takes in the moment of peace he hasn’t had since dawn. Long lashes fan his face, freckles scattered all over. 
“Aren’t you too busy to be talking to me?”
“No. Plus, I should take time to get to know my future sister-in-law. Especially since I don't know anything about her even after dating her sister for 7 years.”
7 years.
Squinting at the waves, you slide your sunglasses on. “There’s not much to know, but I can try. I’m 19 years old, studying abroad in Spain, and grew up in Italy. I love the ocean, love a nice cup of hot chocolate - even though I’m allergic - so I only allow myself small sips during the winter. I like to pretend I know how to dance and I kill it in karaoke.” He laughs. You can’t dance? “Unfortunately, I can’t. Once, during my friend's wedding reception, I twirled right into her cake. I spent the entire day on supervision.”
“Dios mío…Remind me to watch out for you on our wedding day.”
Our wedding day. His words slightly sting as you pinch your nose swiftly. Standing up, you brush beads of sand off your legs. Your eyes roam the area before you find your father waving you over. “I should go,” you say as you look down at him. His brown eyes scan you before nodding and standing up. He, too, looks over to where your father waits to introduce you to a group of businessmen. He frowns and that's when you realize just how revealing your bikini might have been, only it's too late now.
“Papi always taught us to greet our elders.”
He clenches his jaw, eyes closing for a second. When his gaze meets yours, you almost choke with how dark and twisted it’s become. “Aren’t you too old to be calling him that?” Confused, you tilt your head.
“Calling him wh- Papi?”
He grinds his teeth together - and then just like that - he’s smiling again. 
“Forget it. How would I know?”
-
Standing next to an empty table, you watch as Carlos and your sister dance along with everyone else. This party has allowed you to pick up on the fact that they seemed to be a much more important couple than you had anticipated. Everyone looked at the Spaniard as if he were a God himself - and being quite truthful - you would agree. There was nothing about him that wasn’t flawless. 
Then, Ollie, just looked like any other person. Her eyes were bright, but any time anyone would walk up to him, her stare would become threatening. As if she was his owner and no one else could get close enough to breathe the same air.
Everyone here was older; that much you could tell. Attendees were accompanied by girlfriends or fiancée’s of their own. It made you feel a bit childish, since you clearly were the youngest one there. Reaching out for your margarita, you twirl the straw.
“Not having fun?”
Your attention directs itself to a dirty, blondish, brunette. He looks a bit tipsy, face flushed as he smiles sweetly. He’s tall, handsome. But not as much as Carlos.
“Max,” he introduces himself. Politely, you shake his hand. He points to the large group that dances on the sand. He lets out a croaky laugh. “They could get a bit much sometimes.” You laugh, nodding along with him. He continues talking to you. Brings up how he knows Carlos from driving with him; except he’s signed to Red Bull.
“Everyone here is invited only if they're a driver, huh?” It’s a lame joke, but he laughs and throws his head back as if it were the most fascinating thing he’s heard all night. 
“It’s a small circle, but I promise, they're all nice lads.” Discreetly, he takes in your appearance. The way your black dress dances with the wind. Painted red nails glistening under the golden lights. 
You were beautiful. Tragically, beautiful.
“You know the groom or the bride?”
“Bride.”
He nods, taking a sip of the beer bottle he had been nursing. You both continue your conversation for a while longer. He’s Dutch. Recently 26. You mention your headache before he brushes his fingers against your hand. Looking down, he pulls away before clearing his throat. He apologizes and asks if you would like to dance. A soft melody now plays and you find yourself taking his hand. It's big as yours disappears into it.
Almost as if he’s shy, he carefully slides his hands down to your waist. You giggle as you throw yours over his shoulders. “I hope slowing down helps get rid of your migraine. Sucks. I get lots of those during race weekends.” 
“It is. Thank you for caring.”
He’s sweet. You can tell with the way he blushes when you mention the way you like his dimples. Slowly, you find yourself enjoying his company. You’re in the middle of laughing at some stupid joke he just told, when someone rudely clears their throat. Carlos’ smile appears bitter as he shakes his head.
“I’m sorry - I’ve probably killed the mood.”
“No problem, mate. We were just talking.”
He clicks his tongue before turning to you. Under his scrutiny, you feel as if you’ve just been caught smoking weed for the first time. Dazed, you hum, waiting for him to say something. You know it’s not your place to feel as if he owes you an apology, but you can’t help it. 
“Ollie said it’s best if you went to bed.” You let out a sarcastic laugh. Since when does she care if I get a good night's rest? He huffs before running a hand through his hair. “She - she…Just do as you’re told, please.”
Now you’re bothered. Up until that point, you were actually having a good time. Dumbfounded, you turn to Max as he smiles understandingly. Pursing your lips, you apologize. Tippy toeing, you lean up to press a kiss against his stubble. He smiles.
“See you around?”
“See you around, Maxie.”
Walking into the lonely house, you let out a sigh as you pour yourself a cup of water. The summer heat had completely dehydrated you. You could still hear the soft beat playing from outside as you sway in the kitchen. You were upset - angry - that your sister had cut your night short. And any other time you would have put up a good fight, but thought it’d be best to not make a fool out of yourself. Especially in front of people you barely knew.
The door sliding open has you alert as you look up. Carlos silently makes his way in as he groans with exhaustion. Loopy eyes match yours as he clears his throat awkwardly. “So…What were you talking about with Max?”
“Nothing that should concern you.”
His jaw clenches, a large hand running along it. Stepping closer, he takes your cup of water before chugging it down. It leaves you hot and bothered just how close he is. It’s a mixture of salt and musk, his scent. It makes your head spin. Lazily, he takes a step back before nodding.
“Right. Have a good night.”
-
Carlos knew he had messed up. He had no right lying and saying Ollie had ordered for you to go to bed. That was completely him. It’s just that - seeing you with Max, laughing, smiling, made him seethe - when he knows damn well that he shouldn’t. It wasn’t like he was your boyfriend, after all. 
So, he was embarrassed. He kept his distance. In his head it made sense. If you weren’t near then he wouldn’t feel the need to keep his eyes on you all the time. The house felt lonelier, colder without you sliding down the hallways. Rightfully so, you had spent your days locked up in your room. The only person that made happy was Ollie.
Either way, maybe it was for the best. He had a ton of shit to do. Starting with changing their honeymoon destination for what seemed like the millionth time that month. First, it was the Maldives, then Cancún - God - he knew that in a few hours his fiancée would come up with a new place. 
“I know, I know we said that, but it’s changed.” He paces the office, stressed. “Can you please just make it fucking happen?”
“Ouch.”
Turning his attention, he sees you peeking at the entrance, phone still pressed up against his ear. Pouting, you enter, sweet aroma filling the room. Excusing himself, he ends the call. “Need anything?” He honestly cared for your response. It had been days without seeing you and he was afraid he blew it before he even had a chance to marry your sister. He told himself it was only because he cared for your relationship with Ollie. But fuck that - he knew not even you both cared that much about each other.
Shaking your head, you walk closer. “You sounded mean. Not a nice look on you, Mr. Sainz.” You’re teasing. You had to be. 
“That wasn’t mean. It's called being straight forward.”
Ignoring him, you curiously eye the dark office. Books, trophies, helmets. Letting out a snort, you pick up the nearest picture frame. In it, it’s Carlos and Ollie, smiling wide. Tears brim her eyes as he looks down at her. The sight makes you want to puke. 
“When was this taken?”
“The day of our engagement.”
You hum, already setting it back down. You can’t help but picture the impossible. That in the picture it was you instead of her, that you wore that diamond ring, that he looked at you. 
Fuck her, honestly. 
“Why’d you propose?”
He’s thrown off by your question. He’s expecting you to bring up the fact that it was a joke, but when you looked back for a response, he found himself with a dry mouth. Because I love her?
“Jesus,” you shudder, taking a seat on top of his desk. His eyes wander down your tan legs as you rest them on top of his chair. You're playing mind games - he’s well aware -  and still he found himself following them. You were the worst temptation out there. It’s as if you knew the power you held. “I bet fucking her is a chore.”
Shocked at your words, he finds himself dumbstruck. He knew you two didn’t get along, but what the fuck happened for you to aim such insults? 
He knows Ollie. Sure, she was a bit much at times, but she was nice. She was pretty. There was no need for your vile words. 
You can tell he’s about to get defensive about her and that makes you shrink. Willing, you had handed him a reason to choose her over you. 
Looking back at the picture, you purse your lips. “Sorry. That wasn't the right thing to say.”
“You should leave.”
You’re embarrassed over him kicking you out, but you knew you had crossed the line. So much for a peaceful afternoon. You comply, jumping off the desk. Not before making your way over, pressing your soft lips against his neck, which was the only place you could reach, even after tippy toeing. You felt him get stiff. 
“Excuse my manners, Carlos.”
Skipping out the door, he’s left with a single thought. 
He’s fucked. 
-
The next morning, you’re forced to spend the day with your sister. Whether it was for running errands, fighting; it didn’t matter. As long as you made your father happy. All he wanted was for his girls to get along. 
“Go,” Ollie growls as she hands you your bridesmaid dress. Snatching it from her, you slowly climb up the stairs to your room. 
It’s a beautiful dress. Strong, dark, cherry red. Just like blood. It hugs your curves the way you’ve always thought all dresses should. For that reason, too, it made you look…older. Trying your best to get rid of the wrinkles, you smooth it down before making your way back. 
Papi loves it as he starts throwing out compliments. You look beautiful, tesoro! You are a true gem. His eyes are bright and proud as you stand there with a shy smile. And though you thanked him, nothing else mattered but the man right in front of you. 
The Spaniard had just gotten back from a meeting. He was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to eat and sleep the rest of the day, but as soon as he saw a balsé Ollie and an eager father-in-law, he was interested. She had told him to go relax; practically pushing him away. But as soon as you walked down those stairs, he swore his heart had never melted with such a sight. 
His eyes became fixated to the point of no return. You stand there like a divine temptress. A siren who was mixed with innocence. Enough to drool over, but also, to adore from afar. Someone he could worship. If God decided this were his last day on Earth, then he would happily follow, since he finally felt as if his life were complete. 
His big brown eyes are glued onto you as your father spins you. Ollie’s attention flickers between her younger sister and her fiancé. Tears fill up her eyes as she springs off the couch. You’re not bothered by it; don’t even bat an eye. That is until Carlos quickly runs off after her. That was a slap to the face as you show off a wounded smile to your father who stands there lost at the sudden commotion. 
Later on that day, you find yourself trying to forget it all with watered down tequila. That’s really all you could find in such short notice. Leaning against the balcony, you study the soft waves, cold wind causing your skin to flash small goosebumps. 
“Disgusting,” you mumble as you finish the rest of the alcoholic drink. Who knew a simple encounter would set you off?
“Woah there. Are you okay?”
Max cautiously steps closer as you shrug with a sigh. What was there to say? I’m a horrible person. I’m a horrible sister. And yes, we might not get along, but never in a million years did I think I would be falling in love with my future brother-in-law. 
“What are you doing up so late?”
Sheepishly, he raises his cigarette. Letting out a low hum, you raise a brow. “Can I have one?” He knows he shouldn't be the one to give a teenager a form of drug, but you looked so upset, so drained, that he felt as if you needed it. Lighting it up, you bring it up to your lips as you squint at him. He laughs. 
“First time?”
“No. It’s just been a while.”
You’re still not looking at him, but he notices the way you let out shaky breaths. The way you softly pinch your forearm. He frowns. 
“I know we only just met, but do you want to talk about it?”
And maybe it was the gist of the moment. Or that he was being sweet - showing that he cared, but it worked because next thing you knew, you were kissing. He lets out an erotic moan with the taste of your lips. All a mix of cigarettes and tequila. This is wrong. He was friends with Carlos and you were only doing this in a moment of weakness, but you just couldn’t stop. Neither could he. Not when you tasted like a thousand crimes. 
His large hands grab your ass as you gasp, brushing against his cock. He hissed as he pressed his lips much harder. Surely, you will have bruises tomorrow. Adrenaline rushes through your veins as you grind against him. Clumsily, you both make your way to the couch that’s nearby. Straddling him, you continue to dry humping. Slowly, but surely, the warm sensation between your legs starts to form. Panting, you pull away as he tries to angle his face closer to yours. You smile tauntingly. 
“You know what you remind me of?”
You hum, leisurely picking up your filthy actions. He bites back a smile as he grips harder onto your hips. 
“A Lolita.”
A menacing smile looks down at him before you kiss down his thick neck, soft bites being left behind. You can’t recall the moment you start bouncing on his cock, or when he sprawls you open like a map, kneeling down in front of you. It’s all a haze; a delicious one, too. You’re falling like a feather from your climax when you hear a thud. Did you hear that? No, he would mumble as he peppers kisses onto your soft skin. 
The tides are crashing harder now, signaling that the night was growing older. Timidly, you share a goodbye as you start to skip your way back into your room, but one last thing caught your attention.
A broken flower pot on its side and dirt trailing into the Italian home. 
-
More days had passed since your last encounter with the devilish Spaniard. If you were ever in the same room, he wouldn’t even glance at you. He would simply just walk past by. He was mad. Upset about something. You tried to think of what it might’ve been, but when he walked into his office with an infuriated expression, you decided it was time to call a truce. 
Knocking, you flinch at his sharp tone when he commands you away. Ignoring it, you still step in. Head thrown against his chair, man spreading, he has his eyes screwed shut.
“Are you okay?”
Your tone is sticky like honey. It annoys him the way it strings him in. Drumming his finger against the large chair, he angles his head to look at you. You’re almost scared to ask again, so you decide to stand still until he speaks up. 
“Why’d you do it?”
Puzzled, you purse your lips, waiting for further explanation. What was he talking about? Did you do something to make him upset? The thought alone made you feel queasy. When he notices you still don’t understand, he clicks his tongue. 
“Why would you fuck a friend of mine?”
Oh. Was it possible that this was something he was jealous of? Bewildered, you know you can’t deny it so you start to word-vomit. I am so sorry, Carlos. He came onto me that night - he kissed me first. I was confused. I was lured in by his words. I didn’t know what I was doing-
His eyes soften up as you try your best to break it down. But you were a liar; a good one. You knew damn well it was all you. You had kissed him first. You threw him under the bus and you knew that. Did he deserve it? No. Of course not. But you couldn't handle the Spaniard being mad at you.
He signals for you to get closer. Securely, he grasps your hand and hauls you onto his lap. It’s embarrassing how wet you’ve suddenly become; how your mind replicates a plate of jello. 
“I’m sorry he made you feel like that.”
His rough fingers slide up and down your arms and even that leaves you buzzing. Suddenly, you feel feeble. You assure him that you were fine - that it was no big deal. The way he looks at you is what gives you the confidence to lean in closer. A trace of panic slashes his face for a second. He should probably stop this before anything else happens. There was nothing okay about your ass pressed up against him. Or him craving to taste your plump lips. 
“He didn’t make me feel anything I haven't before.”
Your implication irks him far too much, he starts to consider this all an unhealthy encounter. He can’t stop the images of you being with other men. Someone else kissing you, pleasuring you. Whilst your words were suggestive, your features were anything but that. Wide eyes stare back at him, slightly crinkled. Moving your body, you scoot closer as if you weren't already. He growls as he pinches your hip. Then, you're kissing his neck, and he should be pushing you off, but he’s too far gone to pick up on how wrong this all was. I’m sorry I’ve upset you, Mr. Sainz. I didn’t think you would care who fucked me or not.
“I-I don’t. It’s just that you shouldn't be doing stuff like that. You’re too young for all that.”
“That’s where you’re wrong.” You narrow your eyes. “I’m wiser than one might think. I’m mature enough to know who can and can’t fuck me the way I like.” Your gaze focuses extra hard with your confession. As if it were meant for him.
Pressing your ass one last time against his tight pants, you leap off, giggling. 
“Take care, Carlos.”
-
It's a business dinner, your father fills you in as you sit nearby, enjoying a bowl of ice cream, hairollers dangling around your head. Pouting, you reach up to clip one back into place. He smiles.
“You know, lots of young, talented guys are going to be here. It could be a great opportunity to meet someone.”
You make a face at his idea. “Yeah. No, thank you.” Marching over to him, you gently pat his cheek. “I’m not here to meet anyone.”
Signhing, he grabs your hands. “Can I ask you something?” 
“Sure.”
“Are you and Carlos…” Choking on your own saliva, you push away. What? No. Of course not! Why would you even think that? He lets out a breath of relief. “It’s nothing. Ollie just brought it up, but I told her you would never actually do something like that. I know my precious girl.”
The door creaks open as Satan herself walks in, followed by an Angel. First thing you noticed are their intertwined hands. Ollie tries to be coy as she flashes the action right in front of you. She mainly greets your father as she sticks by Carlos like a piece of gum. Hello, he would say to you as you bite back a smile.
“What are we talking about?”
“Your sister might have a boyfriend by the end of the night, that's what,” your father jokes as you slap his shoulder. Boyfriend? The Spaniard’s eyes burn you, subtle threat evident. Ollie fakes a smile as she tugs him back a bit.
“Wow. You know what? That might actually be a good idea. Could help with how uptight you are. But I’m confused, boyfriend as in Max?”
Fury fills you as you shoot daggers right at her. Ollie’s eyes twinkle with satisfaction. You’re dating Max? “Of course not, papi! Ollie is just being a bitch.”
“No, no, no - I don’t think telling the truth is being a bitch. You should be happy, baby sister! You sure sounded like it when you let him fuck you out in the balcony.”
Shocked at her words, you can’t bring yourself to look at your father who stands disappointed. Ollie, that's enough, Carlos warns as he squeezes her hand. She yanks it away, jewelry clinging against each other. 
“My bad. Shit, I forgot. I forgot no one knew what a slut you are. Opening your legs for any man around you. We’re lucky you’re not attracted to your own father.” She lets out a sour laugh. “Now, that would be fucked up.”
“That’s low, Ollie,” you spit, skin feeling as if it's on fire. You know where all this pent up anger is coming from, but she had no right to make up shit for fun. What kind of sister does that? Embarrassed, your eyes flicker to where Carlos stands with a hopeless expression. Licking your lips, you force yourself to walk away.
Slamming the door shut, you let out a loud scream. Why? Why was she always like this to you? A hard knock is what makes you wipe your tears away. Ollie slithers her way in. It hurt you how proud she looked. As if she had achieved something spectacular. 
“The fuck - Are you crying?”
“What do you want?”
She takes a seat on your desk as she dusts off imaginary lint. “I just want to talk. The way sisters do.”
Ricocheting off the bed, you march over to her as you glare. “Sisters? No. You’re nothing of mine.” Ollie yawns as she rubs her eyes. Then, she clears her throat.
“Do you want to know why I hate you? You’re so stupid you probably don’t even know, but don’t worry - that’s what older sisters are for. I’ll explain it to you. Do you remember, Romeo?”
You do. It hits you all at once; the memories of the first man you ever slept with. He was nice - kind enough to teach you what a man likes. He had jet black hair, a smirk always lingering on his lips. He was tall and a local from where you grew up. He was the perfect experience. 
But that still didn’t make any sense. What did he have to do with Ollie?
She lets out a wet laugh. Already, you can see her own tears as she tries to quickly wipe them away. 
“I loved you; I did. You were my sister before my enemy. But I also loved him. He was my first love. Promised me a home high up in the hills. But do you know what it feels like to see someone you love fuck your little sister against a wall?”
We probably shouldn’t-
Don’t worry. I’ve got you. No ones going to see us. Men love a good thrill.
“You and him…”
She licks her chapped lips. “We had barely started dating.” 
“I didn’t know - I swear to God, I didn’t know!”
If you had, you never would’ve looked his way. Ollie was everything to you growing up. You admired her. Loved her. That’s why it broke you when she started pushing you away as if you were some disease. Later, when your parents got a divorce, she didn’t second guess it when she made the decision to stay behind; causing you to leave with your mother. She never cared for you after that and you never knew why.
But now you did.
“I was young…Younger than I am now, how was I supposed to know?”
“Well, I’m glad we agree on something. You truly don’t know anything.” Strolling over to you, she smiles at your desperate state. “Which is why I’m not making the same mistake twice. Stay away from my husband.”
-
Ollie’s words felt as if they had opened up past scars. You meant what you said. Romeo would have been someone you would have disregarded if you had known the truth. But like always, you were the one with the entire blame and that you didn’t like.
Despite wearing a pretty dress - one that everyone gawked at you for - you felt ugly. Has it always been this way? Maybe it did make sense as to why she despised you. Playing with your bracelets, you try to pretend you’re interested in meeting your fathers investors. You feel completely exposed when they all stare straight at your chest area.
“How are we all doing?”
They all look up at the Spanirad as they start spitting out their congratulations for his upcoming wedding. He thanks them before checking up on you. His eyes connect with yours. Butterflies swirl inside your stomach as you smile weakly. He’s the first one to truly talk to you that night. To show he cares about your wellbeing rather than the way your dress fits you. Though, you looked stunning as always. Excusing yourself, you make your way into the kitchen, looking for something stronger.
Serving yourself a shot of vodka, you throw your head back, burning sensation sliding down your throat. Coughing, you grip onto the counter. Soft moans whisper in between the walls. You stop breathing for a minute as you try your best to identify where it might be coming from. Striding closer, you press your ear against the closet door. Fuck, a mans voice groans. This is not something you should intervene with, it's not your right, but that all changes when you hear a name that makes you burn all over again. So fucking tight, Ollie.
Pushing the door open, you see your sister banging one of your fathers investors. Ben, you think his name is. Honestly, you could care less. Briskly, she pushes her gown back down as he zips his pants. You let out a cold laugh as you clap in amusement.
“Oh, God. This is great. Amazing. You really outdid yourself, Ol.”
Stepping forwards, she grabs your arm harshly as she tugs you out. “How much did you see?”
You purse your lips as you theatrically scrunch your face up in pleasure. “Oh, Ben! Fuck me! Oh, oh, yes, baby, right there!” You bow. “That much.”
“How old are you, sweetheart?” The brunette says as he scans your body. Ollie glares at him as he steps back.
“Not a word of this to Carlos.”
“Why would I keep this a secret? He deserves to know. What do you think, Benny?”
Panicked, the older man shakes his head as his eyes plead for mercy. That’s enough. Raising your hands up in defense, you grin back at Ollie. “You’re not mentioning anything if you know what's good for you.”
“Oh, yeah?” You tilt your head back. “And what’s good for me?”
“If you tell him anything of what you just heard - saw - then I’ll just tell him how you’ve been bending over for every man in this house. Charles, Lando, Lewis, Pierre…you name it.”
“He won’t believe you…”
She laughs sinisterly. “No, I think he will. I mean…You’ve already done it before.”
“Hey,” his soft voice enters the room as you turn to look at him. The Spaniard’s eyes dance between you and your sister and Ben. “Is something wrong?”
Ollie shakes her head with a bright smile as she walks up and kisses him. You flinch. “Nothing, amor. We were just talking.” She runs her hands through his hair as his eyes remain on you. 
“Are you okay?” 
Nodding, you grind your teeth together. “Yes. Ollie was just introducing me to Ben.” Awkwardly, the man waves from behind you. Slowly, Carlos nods.
“Papi asked me to introduce them. You know - with the whole ‘boyfriend’ thing!”
“He was serious about tha- Oh. Okay.” He reaches down to take your sister's hand as he eyes you and Ben. “We should probably leave you two alone then.”
Hastily, you nod. “Sure.”
-
If you were willing to try and fix your relationship with Ollie before, then that was long gone. This is what you knew her for. A pretender. She wistfully makes everyone believe she’s some sort of saint, when really, she’s a wolf in sheep's clothing. She’s a hypocrite. She has a man that everyone desires and she does this? 
You hated her.
You hated seeing the way she beams when Carlos’ mother gives her a necklace that belonged to her own mother. She didn’t deserve it. Or the way his sisters helped her slip in and out of her dress, making sure it's perfect for the big day.
Still, you try your best to be a supportive sister. Especially around the woman who raised a man like Carlos. Biting down on your lip, you take a sip of your champagne as Ollie disappears behind the curtains with the lady who is taking some last minute measurements. Reyes smiles warmly.
“We didn’t know Ollie had a younger sister.”
You smile. “Best well kept secret, right?” The older lady laughs. Your heart warms up as you notice it's the same way Carlos does. Ana and Blanca grin.
“Well, we’re glad to finally get to know you. Might I add, you’re beautiful. Those eyes!”
“Thank you,” you blush.
Ana takes a sip of her drink before clicking her fingers. “That’s what you remind me of! You - Carlos - almost have the same puppy eyes!” She turns to her mother. “Mamá! What’s that saying? Soulmates look alike…Something like that, no?”
“Be quiet, Ani,” Blanca hisses before smiling apologetically. “Excuse her - she can be a bit invasive.”
“No problem,” you reassure as you bite back a smile. Ana frowns.
“Lo siento, I don’t mean to come off as overbearing. It’s just that you do…”
Reyes clears her throat as she winks over at her daughter. “Don’t misunderstand us, please. We love Ollie, we do! It’s just…you’re different.” She examines you. “I like you.”
Their words stick with you like a post it. Do soulmates look alike? Playing with the sand, you circle your finger agonizingly slow. Why did their words matter so much to you?
“I always find you alone.”
You stick your tongue out at Carlos as he chuckles at your childish behavior. You pat the sand, inviting him to join you. What are you doing out here? You point at the ocean. “I told you it was my favorite place.” 
“Ah. I see.” 
You sneak in a quick look before looking straight ahead. “Nervous?”
“About?”
“Marrying a monster.”
He gives you a deadpan look, bumping his shoulder to yours. “She’s not that bad, you know.” He glances at you. “Ollie has been there for me through so much. Through my failures. Through my accomplishments. She’s the one who convinced me not to quit racing.”
“You were thinking of quitting?”
He nods. “It’s not as easy as it looks. It fucks you up mentally. But she…” He smiles. “She helped me overcome that. I thank her everyday for it.”
It’s a bittersweet feeling hearing him talk about her like that. On one hand, you’re thankful that she had made him realize that he should carry on doing what he loved. On the other, you knew her true reasons. She loved having a famous fiancé; someone she can brag out to the rest of the world.
Somewhere, far away, you hear a melody. It’s low enough that if you didn’t pay close attention, you wouldn’t catch on to it, but you did. You grab his hand, leading him to stand up. He quirks a full brow. 
“Want to dance?”
“I thought you said you didn’t know how to.”
“Nice memory, old man.” You gently kick some sand towards him. “But I feel like dancing. Plus, you should be practicing.”
Tugging you closer, he hums. “Alright. Only because that's true.”
His hands feel warm against you - so much so - it feels as if he’s on fire. An ease comes to it, too, as you both sway under the moonlight. You giggle when he spins you, dress flying around you like petals. The way you grin makes his heart speed up in a way he’s never felt before. It’s alarming. He pinches your hip as you yelp.
“Mentirosa.”
“Wha- No, I’m not! Can’t dance to save my life.” Clumsily, you dig your toes into the sand. He winces playfully. 
The air grows heavy the moment he brushes your hair behind your ear. Your eyes flutter shut as you lean against his warm hand. One look, and he’s hooked. It’s meant to be something lighthearted, but the way he wishes to feel your soft lips against his indicates that it’s not. He’s tried his best to see you for what you are; his fiancée’s little sister. Someone he shouldn’t find himself caring if they slept well, ate their three meals a day, or that they didn’t talk to any other man that wasn’t him or your father. This was sick and twisted and yet…
His lips meet yours as your eyes spring open for a nanosecond before letting yourself go under. It feels as if you’re exploding like firecrackers on a Fourth of July. Something about the way he cradles your face endearingly has your head spinning. Knees become weak, but his grip is secure. It’s better than you could have ever imagined. His tongue fights for dominance and when you don’t give it to him, he squeezes your ass. Moaning, you open your mouth and that's all it took. He kisses you the way you’ve seen in movies - only better. He’s hungry - desperate - for you as you smile against him. Biting down on his bottom lip, he groans as he kisses you harder than before. You were beginning to think your lips were about to snap. 
Letting go, he stands there, staggered. He’s ashamed when he realizes that he regrets nothing. You both stay quiet; only waves crashing and heavy pants being heard. At first you think he’s going to apologize, and maybe that might have been the case, but no words would come out. Pressing a peck against his swollen lips, you smile.
“Goodnight, Carlos.”
-
Carlos rues the day that he kissed you because that only made things more complicated. He couldn’t find a way to not look for you when he walks into the garden, full of family and friends. Or the way he would want to punch Max when he made you laugh. But there is also something sweet. Like the way you would gossip with his sisters and share stories with his parents. He had never seen them laugh and smile so much, not even with Ollie. 
He flinches at the cold hand that wraps around his own. Faking a smile, he presses a soft kiss on top of his fiancée’s head. Continuing the clicking against her glass, she smiles widely. 
“Grazie a tutti per esservi uniti a noi!”
Everyone claps and a few of the drivers whistle. Rolling your eyes, you lean your head against your father’s shoulder. His heart skips a beat. Ollie continued her speech filled with thank you’s, thank you’s and more thank you’s. Your father kissed your cheek before making his way up to his eldest. Taking the microphone from Ollie, he starts to share warm felt memories about her. You have to admit, you’re jealous about their bond. Somewhere in the past, that had been viciously stolen from you. He notices the way you shrink with sadness and he finds himself about to walk over to you when Ollie laughs awkwardly. Amor. It’s your turn.
“Right.” Fixing his rolled up sleeves, he smiles at the crowd of guests. “Uh…Well like my fiancée said, we’re extremely happy to have you all here. It takes a lot to get this many people out here all at once.” A few laughs echo as he continues. “This means a lot to me, too, to have my friends and family. To have met new faces.” His gaze flickers past you as your breath hitches. “Many ask me what about Ollie made me fall in love with her…And I’m here to be as brutally honest as I could get. I love the way she makes me feel as crazy as the ocean. I could spend calm days with her and not worry about getting bored. Or I could find myself getting into trouble. Ollie has made me a better man. Because of her I know what true love is…” His loopy eyes meet yours. “True love are the waves that meet the shore.” 
He lets out a sheepish smile. I want love like that, Lando yells out as he downs his glass of milk. Everyone claps and cheers and that’s where your nightmare begins. 
Let’s give it up for the happy couple! Kiss, kiss, kiss!
The chants continue as Carlos let out a nervous laugh. That’s something private between me and her, he tries but finds himself being booed. Leaning down, he pulls Ollie in for a peck before pulling away with a tight lipped smile. He hates himself for his sudden realization.
Kissing her suddenly did feel like a chore.
With all the whoops and whistles being thrown out by friends, he finds himself trying to find you. It doesn’t take long as he notices you had picked up on your conversation with the Dutchman. His jaw clenches. 
“Maybe Ollie’s younger sister would like to share a few words.”
Why would he say that? Frozen, you choke mid sip. Me? Your father beams as he nods excitedly. Oh! That’s such a great idea! Unfamiliar faces turn to look at you as they wait. Taking in a deep breath, you nod as you make your way over.
As he hands you the microphone, he can’t stop himself from grazing his fingers against your hand. Coughing, you yank it fast. 
“Ciao a tutti.” Everyone greets you back as you lick your lips. You take a moment to figure out what to say, but there’s not much. Cringing, you try to come up with anything. “As some may know, I’m Ollie’s sister…And I could go on forever about how great she is-” You suppress a sarcastic laugh as Carlos knowingly winks. Your nerves ease up. “But I think I should talk about the man who makes my sister the happiest. Carlos Sainz…When I first met you, you seemed uptight - more than the Grinch - but slowly I got to know the man that even my papi swoons over.” 
True, your father laughs. “You’re kind, respectful, and charming…Ollie is one very lucky girl. But there’s something also sensitive inside of you…Despite the permanent frown on your face, you still seem to like days by the ocean. Maybe it's a reminder that peace still exists or maybe it's the way…” Looking up, you see everyone staring deeply. Suddenly, you feel like this might be oversharing as you twirl your dress. “...Or maybe it's the way your face lights up when you take my sister dancing on the sand. Uh…Thank you for making her happy.” Handing the mic back to Carlos, you smile weakly at the strong claps. 
“That was quite sentimental,” Max points out as you bite down on your finger. Was it too much? He shakes his head. “Don’t worry. It looks like you and Carlos get along well enough. I, for sure, thought he hated you with the way he looks at you.”
“Oh. Yeah.” You pause. “I thought so, too.”
-
Aside from the fact that the wedding was approaching quickly, the mansion was quiet. The silence can almost be heard; it's scary. Carefully, you fix your dress as you skip down the stairs barefoot, lollipop painting your lips red. 
Peeking around the corner, giddiness fills your body as you snatch a handful of pre-washed cherries. Earlier that day, your father had scolded you for finishing the new batch. Popping them into your mouth, you hum a song as you kick your legs against the kitchen counter. It creeps you out the moment a chill runs down your spine. As if someone were watching.
“Boo!”
“Santa mierda,” you yelp as you clutch your heart. Laughing loudly, the Spaniard bends over as he gasps for air. You pout and kick his knee. “Cabrón, you scared me! Warn a girl!”
“Fuck - I’m sorry.” His lips form a thin line as he stands firm. Slowly, the corners lift up, wobbly at his poor attempt to not burst out laughing. You frown.
“You’re fucked up.”
Again, his laughs echo the dimly lit kitchen. “Can I have some?”
“No. They’re mine. Grab your own.”
He narrows his eyes. “Aren’t you on cherry prohibition or something like that?” You gasp as you look around before flipping him off.
“Keep your voice low or papi will disown me!”
He zips his lips as he whispers. “I won’t tell a soul. But I want one of those in exchange.”
Tapping your finger against your lip, you pretend to think about it before nodding. You extend your hand out, a single red cherry for him. You’re waiting for him to take it and leave to where he came from, but what he does instead has you swallowing a lump down your throat.
Crouching down, he opens his mouth as he picks up the cherry, lips slightly wrapping around your fingers. This was triggering you as you tried your best to keep sane. But there was no way of going about that when he looked up at you with deep, brown eyes. Licking the red juice sliding down your hands, he steps back. He licks his lips before swallowing. It amazes you the way his Adam’s Apple jumps up and down; thick neck begging to be sucked on.
“Fucking delicious.”
Blinking, you look down at the rest of the cherries in hand. All of a sudden they seemed like a sultry fruit rather than a drupe. 
“Wouldn’t you agree?”
“Of cours-s-e.”
Stupefied, you throw the leftovers straight into the trash bin. You had no clue what made you do that. A small chuckle escapes past his lips as you shut your eyes in embarrassment. Maybe they weren’t as sweet as you made them seem. Too mortified to speak, you keep your eyes focused on the way your feet hit the wood as a distraction. It takes all of you to not run away as he steps closer once again.
“Is there something in that dirty little mind of yours?”
The room feels hot all of a sudden as you shake your head. There’s no words in your vocabulary when he stands this close. You can smell his cologne mixed with shampoo. If richness were a scent then this would definitely be it. His hands cage you in like a butterfly behind glass. Clicking his tongue, he steps aside as you let out a shaky breath. Taking the opportunity, you jump off the edge, bare feet slapping against the cold tiles. Cuidado, he mutters when you almost slip from the sudden action. 
“If you need anything I’ll be upstairs.”
Not sure why you said that, but it seemed like a rationalized excuse. Por supuesto. And that would have been the end of your night. That would have been another successful day of not falling for the forbidden apple. You had held out for so long; the kiss didn’t count. But it only takes a few steps for him to clear his throat. Almost as if this were your secret language, you spin and you find him staring after you; dazzling eyes following your every movement as if he’s trying his best to decipher anything you do.
Smiling wide enough for your eyes to look as if they had a smile of their own, you think - fuck the consequences - as you clumsily run up to him; jumping like a kid onto a tree. Legs wrap around his torso and his hands hold you close to him.
“Do you-”
“Yes,” he whispers. “Since the first day you walked through those doors: yes.”
If you had thought you were obsessed with his kisses before, you were wrong. So very wrong. Because now you were addicted. He kisses you with urgency as you run your hands through his locks, so soft against your fingers. He grunts when you tug on it. 
His kisses were stimulating enough for you to plead for something. Anything. Smirking, he pecks your nose before leading you both upstairs. It amazed you how he could continue kissing you as he hurried to get to the bedroom. Noticing him making his way into his and Ollie’s, you pull away. There’s no way you would let him do that. You spin your finger lazily through his hair.
“How about mine?”
He doesn't care if he fucked you against the floor, he needed you. Kicking the door shut, he throws you onto your bed as you squeal. He smiles fondly as you brush your hair out of your face. He’s had his fair share of girls. Models, nepo-babies, Ollie, but none of them compare to you. 
He was almost scared of touching you again, even though that’s exactly what he wanted. Doe eyes stare back at him as his cock gets harder at the sight. Ollie had always tried her best to look at him that way, but you didn’t even have to try. It naturally happened. Nothing about this felt forced.
You look untouchable. Like a complete goddess waiting to be ruined. Carlos, you would say as you squeeze your tits, eyes struggling to stay open. Carlos, please. Don’t be mean. Towering over you, he shakes his head.
“Linda, I could never be mean to you.”
Slipping your dress off, he groans when he sees you weren’t wearing anything underneath. He shuts his eyes as he tries to not finish inside his pants, which by the way, were starting to hurt. He pinches your nipple before slapping your tits. You hiss. 
“Please tell me you did this for me and no one else…”
“You know it’s always been for you.”
With that, he stands up as he yanks his shirt off; jeans and boxers following right after. A bit worried, you find yourself staring at his rock hard dick. You had never been with some as big as him; it kind of looked as if it would split you right open. That didn’t stop you from wanting it, though.
“Don’t worry. I’ll prepare you nice and good, cariño.”
His lustful tone snaps you out of it as you nod. His fingers rub your wet folds as you cling onto his bicep. C-Carlos. “I know, baby, I know,” he coos as he focuses on the way your face pinches. He slowly starts slipping his finger in as you gasp at the thickness. So big and long. He chuckles. “Oh, come on now. It’s not even fully inside of you yet.”
Stunned, you look down and sure enough, it isn’t. You almost cry out when you notice it’s barely even the tip. “I don’t think it’s going to fit.” He kisses your temple as he slips his finger back out. 
“Let’s start off with something else then.”
You almost pass out when he angles himself in front of your pussy. Glistening clit stares back at him as he moans. So pretty, he thinks as he touches you slowly. He stops himself, though, as he goes in for kitten licks instead. You squirm. His large hands pushed you down against the bed, to keep you in place. 
“Do you want me to make the ache in between your legs go away?”
“Yes.”
His pink tongue teases you as he hums. You bite down sharply. “You’re going to have to stay still. Relax, bonita.” Following instructions, you close your eyes, trying your best to not think of the handsome Spaniard. As if that were possible. Impressed, he leans in again as he licks you, picking up your pre-cum. Oh, fuck. 
Then it’s almost as if Carlos is taken over by something as he dives in like some animal. His stubble burns your legs, but you’re too fucked out to even care. You’re sure you're being loud, but how can you not be when he licks and sticks his tongue inside of you, exploring places you never knew existed. You choke back a moan when he rubs his nose against your clit, only adding to the euphoria. 
“Yes. Oh. Fuck, yes.” Looking down at the brunette, you find him taking in your appearance as he rubs himself against the sheets; a way to try and pleasure himself. And that’s enough for you to cum all over his face. He smiles as he greedily tries to drink up everything you give him. He knows he lost control, but he loves the way you were able to keep up. To take everything he gave you.
And that was only going to multiply.
“You taste so fucking sweet,” he groans in between your legs, picking up the white nectar. Crying out, you push his face away as you gasp for air. He sucks your tits as you take a break. His tongue swirls around your bud as you wiggle against him like a fish that jumped out onto land. He laughs. “Can you handle my fingers, now?”
No, you whisper as you push him away. But he knows you’re giving up too soon. He knows there’s an animal inside of you and he’s just waiting for it to decide to join him. He ignores you as he slides his fingers down to your center. You mewl against him. “Hey, hey, I got you, cariño. I’m right here.” 
His voice makes you clench harder against his fingers as he grins like a kid at a candy store. Slowly, you start dripping more than before, making it easier for his fingers to slide in and out of your hole. Can you handle a third? “Yes,” you respond, eyes still screwed shut. Hot air hits your ear.
“There she is…Good girl. Justo asi.”
Picking up speed, his fingers reach the gummy part inside of you as you scratch his arms in an attempt to remind yourself to not black out. His long fingers cross, doing figure 8’s as he touches your g-spot as if he knows your entire body better than any map. Leaning up, he bites down onto your nipple before sucking hard. You should be embarrassed with the way you squeal and shake against his actions, but he just made it so hard not to. Much to your surprise, if you dare believe it, he does the thing you last expected.
He adds a fourth digit.
“No, no, no,” you pathetically chant as your eyes fly open. He cocks his head to he side as he clicks in tongue as if seeing you struggle filled him with pride. 
“Ah, ah, ah. Just trust me; do you trust me?”
He didn’t need to ask because he knew you did. I do, you whimper out as you start grinding against his fingers. Amazement fills his dark eyes as he looks down to where you clench around him, juices sliding down his arm. It only takes a couple of more swirls before your shriek, velvety walls clenching around him as you reach your climax. 
Bringing his fingers up to his mouth, he licks your cum as if it were a meal he’s dreamed of having his entire life. Your mouth hangs open as you watch him lick them clean. You’re sure he’s going to fuck you now, but that flies out the window as he lays down as he drags you onto his face.
This man had stamina. Lots of it. You're trying to beg for a break of some sort. I can suck your dick. Give you a handjob. Just please let me rest. But he wasn’t even listening. 
Maybe somewhere deep down, he knew this would be the only night he would have you to himself and if that meant no pauses, then he would push all your buttons.
Like a starved man, he starts licking you all over as you grind against his face. The way he sucks on your clit and adds his fingers make you squeal as you push down harder. His nose rubs against you in such a way, it has you seeing stars. He seems to be enjoying that though, as his moans vibrate against you. Biting hard onto your lip, you try to distract yourself as you reach behind you for his rock hard cock. The moment your small hand wraps around him, he growls like a lion.
Smug over his reaction, your hand slowly starts jerking him off as he eats you out with more urgency. It takes all of you to control your actions as he shakes his face in between your legs. S-slow down, Carlos. He grunts as his actions speed up, but so does your hand. Gripping onto his erection much harder, you furrow your brows as you twist your wrist. Choking on your juices, he opens his eyes wide, whimpers flying past his lips.
Smiling down like the devil, you nod as your hand picks up its pace. Now it's his turn to be groaning with pleasure. He seems to have forgotten what he was doing as he takes in strong whiffs of your aroma. You shudder when his warm breaths escape to warm up your dripping pussy.
His cock twitches and he seems to snap right back into it; already diving back into your hole. Lurching forward, you grip onto his hair as the other remains wrapped around him. It’s a game to see who can make the other cum first, and you were not about to be the loser. 
Lively, you circle your thumb around his pink tip as he groans and finishes all around your hand. Sucking hard, he bites gently onto your clit as you screech and trap his head between your thighs. Shaking, you twitch against him as you reach your third orgasm that night. Huffing, you roll off him as he laps his tongue.
The way he looks at you makes you want to ride his face all over again, but you know you needed a break if you didn’t want the night to end so soon. Kneeling in front of him, you raise your ass up high as you lean down to wrap your lips around his cock. He flinches, slightly sensitive, but doesn’t dare push you away. Instead, he rubs your face with his calloused thumb; encouraging you. There's something so hot about the way your lips stretch around his fat cock. The way drool exits your mouth, messy blots of mascaras on the corners of your eyes.
Light of my life. Fire of my loins.
Gagging around him, you squeeze your eyes shut, feet curling up along the way. For sure, your throat would be bruised tomorrow, but you didn’t mind. In fact, you wanted that. Deepthroating him as best as you can, your small hands wrap around the rest of his length. He was huge. Dirty slurps bounce off the walls. You try your best to not pull away when you feel his sticky pre-cum connect inside your throat. Not when he looked so good with his head thrown back. His thick neck is a clear display. With his large hands wrapped around your hair as he fucks your face like theres no tomorrow. Spanish curses flowing past his lips. 
“Que linda. Arrodillada como una santa.”
When you giggle around his erection, he groans, head thudding against the headboard. His mind quickly slips over to Ollie - but not in the way one might expect. It hits him like a truck when he compares her to you. With Ollie, she would last at least 20 minutes before calling it a night. He pretended not to mind - he would never force her to do something she doesn’t want to, of course - but once she would knock out, his large hand would slide down past his boxers, looking for a new release. 
Then there’s you, ever so pretty. It seems like with everything you do, you want more. You sucking him off as if you’ve done this for him a lifetime ago. Sure, you’re struggling, but that only makes him harder. You’re trying to keep up with him and it’s working. Now, it’s like he’s the one trying to keep up. Swallowing, your throat closes around him as he flies forward, voice cracking as he presses for more. 
Glossy eyes look back up at him as you repeat your action. With one last blow, he pulls out as he cums all over your face. His dick immediately gets hard again when you smile wide, fingers going to pick up his mess. Greedily, you pout as you wrap your lips around your finger like the lollipop you had been sucking on a few hours ago.
“Fuck,” he mumbles, abs contracting together as he tries his best to even out his breaths. 
“Will you fuck me now?” 
You’re moving at a snail's pace as you lick his sweaty neck. A chill runs down his spine with the feeling of your warm tongue. Grinding slowly against his thigh, you throw your head back with pleasure, wet lips rubbing against him. He smiles.
“You’re a dirty girl, you know that?”
“I thought that’s what you liked about me, papi.”
In a flash, he flips you onto your back as he hovers over you like a giant. A beautiful, beautiful, giant. His large muscles he works so hard for stare back at you as you admire with an open mouth. It looks as if he could carry mountains on his shoulders. Dilated pupils admire you as you let out a pathetic whimper. Long gone were his brown eyes as they now appear completely black. Sensual.
“Then you should be fucked as such.”
With that, he swings your tan legs over his broad shoulders, practically bending you like a pretzel. You pat yourself on the back for all those pilate classes. Jerking himself off a bit, he looks straight at you, making sure this was something you wanted. The way you bat your cartoon eyes is all he needs to slip inside of you.
First thing he notices is how tight you are despite him already stretching you out to perfection. Raw moans leave both your lips as you try your best to adjust to his size. You had been with men before - that’s all you really knew - but no one’s cock had ever made you burn with such satisfaction. More than satisfaction. He’s reassuring you with his words in order for you to relax.
I’ve got you, preciosa. Just let go for me. I’m right here.
Still, you can’t help but squirm underneath him. His fingers make their way to your mouth as you stare back confused. Suck, he commands before forcing them in. Caught off guard, you gag around them for a bit before your tongue begins to twirl around them. Your cheeks burn up as you hear your low mewls. Ah- ah- ah, you cry out against his digits as he grins down at you. Retracting them, he slides them down to your clit as he starts rubbing small circles.
“Oh God.”
Instantly, you open up against his tired cock as he hums. There you go, he praises as you make it easier for him to thrust into you. You should both be ashamed of the way gushy sounds bloom from your mixed cum. Or the way he pounds into you so hard and fast that it has you sliding further back against the bed, hair tangling along the way. His fingers dig into your calves as he holds them in place.
“Mierda,” he wheezes as he throws his head back, ripping his eyes away from the way your puffy clit envelopes around him. Pants and whimpers escape you as you arch your back from the fulfillment. 
Carlos is a man - you know that - but in this moment; right now: he’s proving it the way a scientist would their hypothesis. His cock brushes against your g-spot as you gasp at the sensation. He’s looking at you as if you held the key to all secrets. 
The keys for the gate to Heaven.
Though he knows that this all feels like Heaven, he deserves nothing but Hell for cheating on Ollie. But that’s the least of his worries.
“Does that feel good, bonita?” 
Wide eyes look up at him desperately as you nod to the point where your neck starts to ache. Yes - Oh God, yes. So good, Carlitos. Yeah, baby - right there. Snapping his hips harder against you, your mind goes foggy with the way his hair flops around him. Sweat causing long strands to stick to his face. Beads of sweat drip down your legs as he presses sloppy kisses. His cheeks look as if he’s been out in the sun for hours. 
In this moment; he looked immortal.
“Carlos, I’m gonna-”
“Hold it.”
Like a doll, you flop back against the bed as you start to leak acid. No - please. Don’t ask me to do that. Feeling a sharp sting, you gasp. His hands dives back in to massage your cheek after slapping you. He cocks his head with fake sympathy. “I know you can do it,” - thrust - “Wait for me, yeah?”
You have no word as you wail - tits bouncing with every assault from his hip. Your stomach burns with the way his abs glisten, with the way his bottom lip juts out, or the way his muscles shine with a layer of sweat as they hug your legs like a teddy bear. 
He was yours. In this moment, he was yours.
“Alright, linda-” He brushes your hair out of your face as he wipes your sweat with his hand. “Cum for me?”
It’s an out of body experience the moment you squirt around his dick - the way your tummy feels like it's on fire. Sore groans leave his lips as he finishes inside of you, brown eyes trained on the way you gush around him. He freezes in place at the feeling. You squirm for a few seconds below falling limp against the bed. The room smells like nothing but filthy sex. 
Pulling out of you, he carefully places your legs back down before kissing your ribs. Then your bruised tits. Then your cheeks, forehead, and lastly, your lips that taste like home. Sighing against him, you try your best to remember the way he kisses you as if you're the only form of oxygen that exists. As if this were a dystopian world and you were the only source of survival.
He pecks your lips once more before brushing his fingers against your temple. “Get some sleep.” Yawning, you nod as your eyes flutter like a butterfly's wings. Will you stay? And he doesn’t know what takes over him when he says-
“I will.”
-
When you wake up you notice it’s still dark out. The moon shines, eyes flickering around, looking for the Spaniard. You let out a low breath of relief when you see him sitting on the edge of the bed. 
“Ollie,” he whispers into the phone as he runs a hand against his jaw. “...I made a mistake.”
Your heart stops with his words. He makes sure to speak low, thinking you're sound asleep. She - I - it was a mistake. She’s just a kid…Fuck. She’s just a child. Your heart shatters with the evident blame in his voice. You weren’t a kid. Sniffling, you stop breathing when you realize you’re crying. He pauses for a moment before standing up and making sure you’re okay. Bringing the phone up against his ear, he shakes, already walking out the door.
“Where are you? Let me just see you, amor. I’ll explain it all.”
-
There’s a saying that goes: You know, a heart can be broken, but it keeps on beating, just the same.
You would personally like to punch that person in the face. It’s not true. It doesn’t beat the same - because then why does it hurt everytime it pounds against your chest? Why is it hard to breath when the priest says-
“You may now kiss the bride!”
Everyone’s faces are blurry; cheers sound far away. You can’t be too sure you're standing upright as your father beams at the sight of Ollie pressing her lips up against Carlos. The way his hands slide down to her waist as shows her off proudly like some champion ring is what hurts the most. You feel flames all over your skin, letting out a flinch when your fathers signals for you to clap, too.
You don’t know what happened after that night. Whether Ollie forgave him or not - though clearly she had. Maybe she didn’t know about you the same way he didn’t know about Ben. This was all starting to feel like some nightmare. But it’s very much real life with the way the newlyweds hold hands, smiling brightly as guests throw a mixture of confetti and baby breath.
“Nice ceremony.”
“What? Oh.” You shrug towards Max as he points over at the couple. “Y-yeah. It was…”
He goes over his next words for a moment because Lord knows that if he has it all wrong then he would appear to be the biggest jerk to ever exist. “You fell in love with him, didn’t you?”
“I-I-I’m not sure I understand,” you trample over your words as your cheeks burn the same color of your red dress. He shares a small smile.
“It’s okay. I won’t tell anyone.”
Walking away, you’re left alone, second guessing everything. The violin seemed too happy. The guests seemed too bright. All of this was fake, couldn’t they see? Pursing your lips, you try your best to hide your broken heart as you catch up with old friends. How is college? How does it feel like having a brother-in-law who drives for Formula 1? Must feel pretty great, right? 
The night is boring. Half of it you spend faking smiles and the other you spend trying to avoid the Spaniard. Life was better back in Spain, where ironically, he was never around despite it being his home country. You’re in the middle of conversing with the Dutchman - who quite frankly is an honest listener - when Ollie walks up looking like a ball of whipped cream. Can I talk to my sister alone, please? Max’s concerned eyes ask if you’re okay with that as you nod. Slumping away, he squeezes your knee one last time.
Blue Velvet plays as she fixes herself onto the stool right next to you. “Have you tried the cocktails? They have cherry flavored; your favorite.” Something about her sweet voice makes you unsteady as you raise a brow. She shows off her veneers. “This is weird. Sorry. I’m just so…happy.” 
“Good to know.”
“But enough about me!” She places her left hand over yours, shiny rock sitting perfectly. You wince. “I want to talk about you! How’s school?”
“Like you care.”
She pouts. “I do now…” You furrow your brows. What do you mean now? She gasps. “Oh, you poor thing! You don’t know I know!” Your stomach drops. “Well, you know, as your older sister, I’m also your guardian since our mother is too fucked up to look after you…And a little birdie filled me in on your reputation back in Spain.” She giggles as she takes a sip of your drink. “Doesn’t surprise me, though. It only makes sense that you keep messing around with men old enough to be your father. You always had a thing for those.”
“What does this have to do with anything?”
Ollie grins ear to ear when she notices how annoyed you’ve become. “Carlos told you he was born in Madrid, right? Okay, well, he also has a whole bloodline there. And let’s just say, a cousin of his - my goodness, his daughters are beautiful - is a professor at your Uni.”
No.
“And well this birdie also told me how you’ve been sneaking in and out of his lecture room, late at night. And I wonder…What have you and him been doing behind closed doors?”
It can’t be. 
Professor Vázquez de Castro, he says as he extends his hand out, eyes roaming every inch of your body.
Suddenly, the name sounds familiar. The surname is Carlos’ extended one. Ollie’s eyes shine. “I see it’s clicking.”
“What do you want from me?”
“I want you to leave me and my husband alone. I want you to grab your things and leave. Don’t look back; just leave. Don’t contact papi ever again. I don’t want to hear a single thing from you. It’s bad enough you’ve already fucked my spouse.”
She knows. He told her. And they still got married. 
“Ollie, don’t…”
Tugging your hand harshly, she slaps her phone on it. And you don’t know how, but in it, it’s a video of you riding your Professor - Carlos’ cousin.
“Leave or I’ll show this to him. Your choice.”
Wet sobs leave your mouth as you shake your head in disbelief. How did this happen? Who took this video?
“Ollie, please…I love him.”
Her gaze sharpens as she takes the phone back and stands up. “You know what to do.”
Bringing your shaky hand up to your lips, you stare in shock. Wobbly legs walk past Max as he asks if you’re okay. One last smile looks back at him before you brush past by. 
Carlos is craning his neck, looking for you. He had confessed that night, but so had Ollie. He was breaking off the engagement. Spilling apologies as she cried against his chest. Despite it all, he still cared for your sister. But he knew it wasn’t going to work out. He was ready to leave when she brought up the tape of you and a cousin he didn’t even know he had. I’ll get her expelled. Don’t do this, Carlos. And so he stayed. He knew how much you loved school, regardless of what others might think. I just want to help others, you swooned one day by the pool. It’s what I wish someone had done for me.
You get to him before he spots you as you tap on his shoulder. He fills up with worry when he sees your red brimmed eyes. Sheepishly, you take his handkerchief as you wipe your rosy nose. What happened? Who made you cry? You shrug.
“Carlos…I love you.” He blinks. You let out a wet laugh as you lean up to kiss him. You didn’t care who saw anymore. This was it. He doesn’t seem to care either as his hands wrap around your waist. Holding you close, as if you might vanish into thin air. He was the waves, you were the shore. Pulling away, you wink. “Save me a dance, yeah?” 
Then, you’re walking away. Becoming smaller as you stroll over to the Italian house. Clutching his chest, he chokes: I-I…I.
“Carlos!”
Turning to face Ollie, he sees her waving him over to the giant cake. 
“Coming.”
-
Running into the quiet house, he calls your name. He looks behind every door, hoping to find the girl in red. Stumbling up the stairs, he swings your door open. He breathes heavily when he doesn’t find you, even here. Panicked, he grips his hair in despair. Only then, does it occur to him to open the restroom door, hoping to not scare you.
“¿Bonita?”
Silence. He still pushes it open as he carefully walks in, finding no harm in checking. And why? Why couldn’t he be as truthful like you were? Risk it the way you would have willingly done. Why did he let you walk into the house alone?
Falling to his knees, he desperately crawls over to your lifeless body, dark blood flowing from your wrists. 
As red as your dress.
He must be dreaming. This can’t be real. Surely, it can’t.
“No, no, no.” He drags your limp body into his arms. He can’t even pinpoint the moment his tears flow down his face. “Bonita, no. No. No. No.” The Spaniard cradles your colorless face into his hands. He gently taps your face a few times, but almost stops breathing himself when it only rolls back. Blood stains his white shirt. “Hey, hey.  C’mon, please. You want me to say it?” Hurriedly, he picks up your head as he kisses your lips over and over. He winces when he feels how chapped they’ve become.
“It doesn’t feel forced. I’m not saying it because I think it’s what you want to hear - I love you. I do. I love you as infinite as the ocean. I love the way you laugh, the way you trip over anything in your way, the way you say my name…I love you.” 
But he knew you weren’t listening. Not anymore. 
A piece of him died that day along with you. After that, life was a sickening blur. He’s out of it the moment he hears your father yelling out in agony or when Ollie screams at the gruesome scene. 
None of it mattered anymore.
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imyourbratzdoll · 5 months
Text
𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒂 𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒚 𝒘𝒉𝒐 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒆𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒔
🕊️a whore's farytale masterlist🕊️
summary - the town's beauty (you) finds herself bargaining her life for her fathers, will the cursed beasts go easy on her? or figure out that she's the one who can break their curse?
warning - smut, monster-fucking, choking, blood play, oral, creampie, name calling, being restrained, biting, refused orgasm/edging, foursome (sorta), being passed around, swearing, death, forced voyeurism, obsessive man, grabbing, groping, trapped, held hostage, slight angst.
18+ only please, the gifs I use aren't mine, header created by me.
Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.
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The story began with three brothers, they were the same in personality but so different in looks. But the universe had other plans for the pompous Princes, the night of their party was the night a certain witch decided to teach them a lesson, one that would not only make their personalities the same, but also their looks. The sound of music and chatter could be heard from outside the castle with how loud it was. Ari, Logan and Geralt– the Princes, are dressed exceptionally well. Only the finest of clothing fits their bulky forms, expensive jewels decorate their body. Ari and Geralt both have their hair tied back in a slick ponytail, one longer than the other. A silky silver matches Geralt’s light gray suit, while Ari wears a silky blue, matching his darker blue suit. Logan has his hair slicked back, although slightly messier with a few strands falling in front of his face, the look doesn’t make him any less handsome. He wears a silky black suit, the colour looking almost devilish on him. 
The brothers split from one another, Ari strides toward a beautiful blonde, twirling her as he pulls her toward the dance floor. Logan stalks off to the bar, glaring at anyone that gets in his way and Geralt heads toward a group of women, already flaunting themselves at him. The party is wild as the guests enjoy themselves, none aware of the storm brewing outside. An old woman trembles as she stands before the large doors, her wrinkled hands shake as she knocks, the sound echoing throughout the room, stopping the party momentarily. The three brothers turn, looking at the door and then to each other, a scowl on their faces, wondering who dares interrupt their party. Logan head tips back as the alcohol slides down his throat before he slams the glass down, his other two brothers express their deepest apologies. All three head towards the door, it may seem a bit extreme, but the three never go anywhere without each other. The only thing that they didn’t do together was share a woman. 
Ari’s hands wrap around the handles, flinging the door open and they scowl down at the ugly old lady before them. “What do you want?” The men stand there, their bulky builds taking up the whole doorway. 
“P–Please, may I come in for some shelter?” The old woman shivers, her nimble hands trembling and she clutches three roses. She offers them to the three princes, “I offer these roses for your kindness.” Her lips quiver, the cold seeming to get to her.
Logan scoffs. “God, no. Find somewhere else you wretched old hag.” The other two nod, not hiding their disgust. A shriek escapes their lips as suddenly the ugly hag magically shifts into a beautiful woman. “What the…”
Her face is set in stone, a harsh glare in her eyes. “Despicable. You’d think Princes like yourselves would be kinder. But, alas you have failed the test.”
“What? What test? You are welcome to come in, Miss.” Geralt stumbles, shamelessly checking out the Enchantress. Her lip curls as though she can see the dirty thoughts swirling around in his mind. 
Her head tilts, the three roses suddenly being encased in three glass domes, the beautiful flowers floating in the centre. “No. For the curse to be broken, you will have to find someone that will want you, all of you.”
Ari scoffs. “Please. We can have anyone want us, are you blind?”
The Enchantress smirks. “What I mean is for them to want all of you in your true forms.” Suddenly magic swirls around the men and their bodies begin to grow and shred, thick luscious fur replacing flesh. Sharp claws replace nicely kept fingernails, eyes turning a bright golden-yellow. Growls begin to fill the air as canines spurt from their gums, replacing their human teeth. The usual men now beasts stood at eight-feet, towering over the witch and before they could strike, she disappeared. Her words rang in their head. ‘If you do not find someone who truly wants you before the last petal falls, you will be stuck as beasts forever.’
Years pass and nearby in a small village, a beautiful young woman named Y/n-Belle hurries through the town. You greeted people as you passed by, a warm smile resting upon your lips. You hurried over to your favourite store, which happened to be the bookstore, a giant grin appears as you push the door open and stumble through, the excitement vibrating throughout your whole body. Y/n-Belle was a very strange, but smart woman, you were the only one in town that got excited about books and reading, causing you to become an outcast and lonely within the people. But you didn’t mind, you were quite content with living in your fantasies. 
The bookstore owner heads over to you, a smile on his face as he hands you one of your favourites. A book that you’ve read a thousand of times, yet would never tire of reading it. You smile, a dreamy look appearing on your face as you peer down at the book, your soft hands grabbing it gently, fingers stroking the cover. “This is my favourite! Far-off places, daring sword fights, magic spells, a prince in disguise…” You pause, your imagination flashing before your eyes as you play out the words in the book. You blink, coming back into reality and you give the man a smile. “Oh, thank you very much!” 
You spin, your blue and white dress swishing around you. You rush outside, the book already opened and your eyes flickering over the words as you walk. Your head was stuck in the book, not noticing the town's most handsome hunter heading straight for you. “Y/n-Belle!” You were hoping that if you ignored him that he would go away, but that did not seem to be the case. He stopped in front of you, nearly causing you to topple over. Gaston chuckles, “the whole town’s talking about you! It’s not right for a woman to read,” He shakes his head, chuckling as if the thought alone was funny. Yet, you had somehow figured that he’s never picked up a book in his life, his small mind proving that the more he talks. “It’s about time you got your nose out of those books and paid attention to more important things— like me!” He boasts, puffing his chest out like he is the most desirable thing to live and breathe. Truthfully, none of the men in your village caught your fancy. You were more into, well… Beasts.
You desperately try to get away without being rude, not in the mood to deal with a petulant child. You could see your escape, but as you opened your mouth to leave. Gaston’s “friend” joined, beginning to insult your father without much of a hello. Your brows furrowed and your lips pursed. “My father is not crazy! He’s a genius, but you are too stupid to realise that!” You blow up, letting your anger consume you without thinking properly. An explosion interrupts the men from responding, the sound coming from your cottage where your father is currently working on something. Without much thought, you take off running. 
You arrive at the cottage, finding your father. Gaston’s words replay in your head, you sit on top of a barrel that is in your front yard. “They think I’m odd, Papa.” You play with your fingers, picking some dirt from underneath your fingernails. 
“Don’t worry, Y/n-Belle. My inventions are going to change everything for us. We won’t have to live in this little town forever.” He says with a giant smile, one that used to give you hope to his dreams. But they slowly begin to dwindle as his inventions haven’t gotten any better, but you don’t want to ruin his dreams by voicing your concerns. You watch as he mounts your horse, Philippe, setting off for the fair with his new invention. “Goodbye, Y/n-Belle! Don’t worry about what others say, you will go places!”
Maybe you did still have hope, especially when he gives you another one of his smiles and a wave. You return it, watching as he goes.  “Goodbye! Good luck, I believe in you, father!”
Still at the cottage, you don’t know that your father got lost on his way and the events following would eventually lead you to your future, whether it be good or bad. But it would definitely be strange, and full of twists and turns.
You sit inside, your head in your book again. Even though you had read it many times, it would still be your favourite. You are pulled out of your fantasy world as you hear a knock at the door. You get up, slowly opening it and sighing as you see Gaston on the other side. “Gaston! What a… pleasant surprise!” You force a tiring smile on your lips. 
Gaston strolls in, taking his shoes off, exposing his dirty and very used socks. He takes a seat at the head of the table, placing his dirty feet on top of your favourite book, causing it to become dirty. A scowl appears upon your face at the disrespect of this man. “Y/n-Belle! There’s not a woman in town who wouldn’t love to be in your shoes. Do you know why? Because I want to marry you!”
You huff silently, knowing that the only way you could get out of this is if you politely decline and make it seem as though you weren’t worthy of him. “Gaston, I’m speechless!” You gnaw on your bottom lip, hating that this disgusting pig of a man won’t leave you alone. “I’m sorry, but… but…” You swallow, knowing you will have to force these words out. “I just don’t deserve you!” You force back scrunching your nose in disgust, watching as humiliation falls upon his face. 
Without a word he stumbles out, hastily putting on his shoes causing him to trip, slipping into some mud. You peeked out, placing a hand over your lips to cover the giggle that threatened to escape past them, watching as the villagers gathered around, hoping to see some sort of wedding or at least a celebration. Only to witness their friend and fellow villager fall into some mud, causing Gaston to feel even more humiliated than before. You’d hope that would at least knock his ego down a few pegs.
You waited until everyone had disappeared from your home before rushing out to feed the chickens. You hear something causing your head to whip around and you find your horse, Philippe, alone without your father. You head over to him, checking for something, anything. “Philippe! What are you doing here? Where’s Papa?!” He whines anxiously and you immediately rush to the house to grab your cloak before running back to him and climbing onto his back. You feel frightened as you think of all the possibilities of what could’ve happened to your father. This feeling pushes you to return to the mysterious forest, allowing you to find a castle that looks like it has been abandoned for many years.
You try and steady, Philippe, brows furrowing when you spot something on the ground. With swift movements, you dismount your horse and move toward the object. A soft gasp passes your lips as you recognise your father’s hat. Without a second thought, you hurry toward the gloomy castle, pushing past the heavy doors and deciding to wander the vast deserted corridors. Your main focus was to find your father, no care of what may happen to you. “Papa? Are you here? It’s Y/n-Belle!” You were met with silence, you continued your search not knowing of the objects that are alive because of the curse within the castle walls.
You stumble along as you finally discover your father locked away in a cell. You gasp, having to kneel as the only opening was at feet level. “Papa! We have to get you out of here!” Suddenly you felt as though you were being watched. 
“What’re you doing here?”
“You shouldn’t be in our castle, Little one.” 
“Leave now!” 
Your eyes widen when you hear three different voices coming from within the shadows. “Please, let my father go! Take me instead!”
There was a scoff filled with curiosity from the shadows. “You would take his place?” 
“S–step into the light please…” You asked. Your expression morphed as you stared horrified at three huge, ugly Beasts– well, they weren’t ugly… But you wouldn’t let them know that between your thighs you felt yourself clench around nothing. You gulped, you didn’t want to be anywhere near these monsters, but you agreed to take your father’s place. “I–” You swallow the saliva that gets stuck in your throat. “I would. I will take his place.” Your words left no room for argument, you were putting your foot down. You didn’t know that you signed up for forever with the three Beasts.
As the words left your lips, one of the Beasts grabbed your father from his cell and dragged him throughout the castle, once outside he was thrown into a carriage that would take him home. The other two begin to walk, causing you to follow behind nervously. The third joining immediately, you let your eyes wander. Taking everything in, it felt like one of those books you always had your nose buried in. 
Your voice cuts through the silence, sounding as though it echoes through the dark halls. “D–do you three have names?” As I don’t want to continue calling you Beasts in my head, you think the last bit to yourself. Knowing it would be rude of you to voice out loud. 
“Ari.” 
“Logan.” 
“Geralt.” 
They growl out, hardened eyes landing on your tiny form. Ari steps toward you, towering over you as you shiver, your eyes wide and you try to shrink into yourself. “Our castle is your home now, so you can go anywhere you like…”
Geralt cuts in. “Except the West Wing.”
You stare back, innocently asking. “What’s in the West Wing?” 
Their bodies tense and they glare as Logan growls out. “It’s forbidden!” Geralt opens a door to your new bedroom and pushes you in. 
“You will join us for dinner. That’s not a request.” Ari stares you down, stopping you from protesting. They shut the door and stalk off, separating to different parts of the castle. You lie down on the bed, burying your face into the pillows. You knew you would never escape this prison, nor would you ever see your father again. Maybe you should’ve married Gaston, at least then you wouldn’t be stuck with Beasts.
The disgusting truth though was how much you weren’t disgusted by their forms. Their behaviour. It was definitely something out of those books you read, just less romantic and more animalistic. You huff, shaking your head of those thoughts. You will in no way let them find out about this. It was something different than other women would fantasie about and you didn’t want those… FREAKS! To judge you.
You refused to go to dinner when the time came, knowing you wouldn’t be able to contain yourself if you stayed in the same room as them for too long. Oh, how your father would be disgraced by the woman you’ve become. You had grown bored and hungry and had decided to wander the castle in hopes of finding the kitchen. With quiet footsteps, you exited your room and tiptoed down the halls, peaking your head around corners and stopping whenever you heard the slightest of noises.
You were no fool, the Beasts had been mad when you refused to dine with them and if one of them were to find you wandering the halls in search of food. Well you fear you may become theirs instead. Though, you wouldn’t mind them… No, you couldn’t let your thoughts wander for too long. 
A small squeal passes your lips when you finally stumble upon the kitchen, happily making your way over to the fridge before a voice interrupts, causing your heart to drop into your stomach. 
“You know… If you had come to dinner. You wouldn’t be so hungry now.” The voice was deep, a growl slipping through with each word. You spin, eyes wide as they land on Logan, how had you missed such a big figure? You squeak, not knowing what to reply with. Logan raises a furry brow, “Cat got your tongue, Little one?” He moves fast, now towering over you. “Or should I say Beast?” 
Your thighs press together, a whimper slipping past your lips and your wide eyes stare up at him. “I–I…” Stupid, why the hell would you try to speak when you’re in this position? Your voice would give you away, you daft bimbo. You scowl at yourself, how could you be so dumb when you were the only one to read in your village? You gulp as he leans in with a smirk. You don’t know that their senses had heightened with their transformation, you had practically given yourself away since you broke into their castle. 
“Hmm? No words?” Your hunger forgotten and replaced with something else. You notice how his hand, though actually a paw, comes up, a lit cigar between his clawed fingers, bringing it to his lips, puffing on it as he stares into your eyes watching as you follow his movements. “Ya know, my brothers are angry with the fact you ignored their invitation.” 
Your eyes roll and you scoff. “Well, excuse me for not wanting to dine with those that are keeping me hostage.” His brow raises again, not expecting so many words to pass your lips. You gulp, where the hell did that come from? 
“Huh, so you do say more than four words.” He leans closer if that was even possible, “Better watch your tone with me, Little one or else I’m gonna have to do something about it.” With those words, he disappears and you whimper. Fantastic, the only pair of knickers you have on you and they are completely drenched. You wouldn’t be surprised if the other two could smell you wherever they were.
You shakily prepare a small meal, hurriedly eating it so you don’t have another run in. When you finish, you swear you hear someone speak. But looking around, you find no one. Your brows furrow, are you finally going insane? You begin to get up when you hear it again.
“Excuse me, Miss.” You look around again, what the hell? “Down here, Miss.” You look down and let out a small squeak of surprise, there stands before you a small clock that seems alive? He blinks up at you, a smile on his face? “Hello. I am Cogsworth. I am sorry for frightening you.”
“I–it’s f–fine.” You clear your throat. “It’s fine. You didn’t frighten me, just a bit startled is all.” You try to smile, “Have you been here this whole time?” You hoped he hadn’t, you wouldn’t want to know what an object thought of the previous events. 
Cogsworth shakes his head. “No, Miss. Master Logan ordered that I escort you back to your quarters. He doesn’t want you wandering about… In your condition.” His eyes squint, as though he understands yet how could you know he would? You had no clue that the alive object was once a person. 
“Oh, okay.” You stand, smoothing down your dress about to follow but you stop. “Actually, Cogsworth. Would you mind giving me a tour of the castle, please?” 
He looks at you for a few seconds, as though he was hesitating before he nods. “Okay, follow me. Miss.” You spend most of your night getting acquainted with your new home before you stop underneath a dark staircase. Noticing how Cogsworth seems to want to hurry past it without acknowledging it. 
“What’s up there?” Your curiousity seeps through your words. 
Cogsworth practically shakes as he answers. “Nothing, absolutely nothing of interest at all in the West Wing.” Your interest piqued as you heard West Wing. You watch as he’s too busy focusing on ensuring the two of you don’t get caught, especially near this staircase. Allowing you to escape unnoticed, racing up the staircase and into a long hallway lined with broken mirrors.
“Well… That’s bad luck for many, many years.” You wet your lips as you cautiously opened the doors at the end of the corridor. You enter the dank, filthy room strewn with broken furniture, torn curtains and grey, gnawed bones. Your eyes wide, taking it all in before they land on the only living object or should you say objects. There behind a glass dome were three shimmering roses. Entranced, Y/n–Belle lifted the cover and reached out to touch one soft, pink petal. You were so entranced that you did not hear Ari enter the room.
“I warned you never to come here!” He advanced on you. “GET OUT! GET OUT!” Your daze had been broken, desire now replaced with fear. You became terrified of his rage, causing you to turn and run. You run out of the room, down the stairs and past Cogsworth and a candle? You didn’t have time to stop, you needed to leave. Not even your lust for your fantasy to come true could stop you. Your feet had taken control of your body. 
“Promise or no promise, I can’t stay here another minute!” You flee, finding your horse and taking off. You gallop through the snow until you are met with a pack of fierce, hungry wolves. Your eyes widen, mouth opening and closing as you don’t know whether to scream or breathe. Through your terror, you forgot about the horse you sat upon. He reared, causing you to fall to the ground, tumbling into the snow below. They were advancing on Philippe, so with quick movements, you found a large stick and defended your horse. 
“Stay back!” You swing, swiping at them. Hoping and praying that they would leave. Their attention moved from your horse and you would’ve sighed of relief but instead you choked up, the wolves had now turned on you. Their canines bared as they snarl. Oh no, no no no. You thought, brows furrowing as worry fills you. Well, at least they are no longer after Philippe. 
You shriek as they pounce, about to rip you apart until suddenly a large paw pulls the animals off of you. It was Ari and you notice Logan and Geralt standing behind him. Anger evident on their faces, you knew it was directed towards you for leaving and now nearly getting yourself killed. You struggle to your feet, stumbling into a pair of arms as all you can do is watch the wolves turn and strike Ari and Logan, fierce growls filling the cold air. The wolves were no match for the two, being torn off and flung as a ferocious howl escapes the Beasts, surprising the wolves before they flee into the night. 
Logan grunts while Ari stumbles, collapsing into the snow. Wounded. The brothers attention now focused on him, Geralt’s hold loosening and this could’ve been your chance to escape. But what did you have at home? And when you looked at the fallen Beast, you knew you couldn’t leave him. Even though he had his brothers. Logan and Geralt pull Ari up, arms wrapped around him as he leaned against them. He was not the fighter of the two and not even he knew why he didn’t let Geralt fight in his place. 
The Beasts barely spare you a glance, they began to walk away, expecting you to get on your horse and leave. But you didn’t move, with a heavy heart you watched them walk from you. Did your chance slip through your fingers? Philippe nudges you, looking at you with those big eyes and you sigh. He nudges you again, gesturing you to look and when you do, your mouth opens. The three Beasts had stopped, as if they were waiting for you and without a second thought. You grabbed your horse and raced toward them, offering your horse for Ari to rest on and to get to the castle faster so you could tend to his wounds. 
Back at the castle, you cleaned Ari’s wound. “Thank you… For saving my life even though you didn’t have to.” You whisper, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. “I… I hope you can forgive me for running.” You look up from his wound to his face, not knowing the feeling he feels when you look at him like that. 
His paw covers your hand, “There’s nothing to forgive, Beauty. I’m the one who should apologise for scaring you.” You shake your head, his gaze gets distracted by the way your hair frames your face and how the light of the sunrise hits your skin, causing you to glow. “Do you think I’m okay enough to walk for a bit? I have something I want to show you.” 
Your brows furrow, looking between his wound and him. His face makes it hard for you to say no, but you also didn’t want him to hurt himself by moving too much. You look up again, being met with puppy dog eyes which makes it harder to resist when he’s not exactly human looking. “...Okay! Okay, but only for a little bit. I don’t want you hurting yourself and ruining all of my work.” You assist him as you help him up, allowing his arm to wrap around you. Which is quite difficult seeing as there is a massive height and size difference. Oh god, you begin to think what else is huge… How would you be able to possibly fit it inside of you? You shake your head, ridding yourself of those thoughts, hoping that the Beast wouldn’t catch on. 
Ari leads you through the halls before stopping upon two large doors. He leans forward, opening them and you both walk inside. Your eyes widen and your mouth falls open. “Oh my god!” You look around, a gasp escaping your lips. “This is so beautiful! I’ve never seen so many books in all my life!” 
Ari had smiled a real smile for the first time since he was a child. “Then it is yours.” You look at him in disbelief, you could’ve dropped to your knees right then and there. 
Okay, so you did. You fell right to your knees, not caring that they scraped against the carpet or that a squeak of desire left you as you finally gave into your desire. Ari stared wide-eyed down at you, his mouth wide open as shock filled him. He was not expecting that, if he had known all it would take was giving you their library, he would’ve done that from the beginning. “What… What are you doing?” 
Your eyes widen, finally reality hits. “Oh! Oh, I’m so sorry!” You go to stand, but his paw stops you, keeping you in place. You could feel your knickers dampen. Not the same ones, they had mysteriously gone missing when you went to shower before tending to Ari. But you were thankful to whoever laid out new clothes for you. 
“I didn’t say you had to get up. I just have never seen someone drop to their knees so fast.” He felt himself harden, his cursed body did come with an added bonus. He was now much larger than his human self, he wasn’t small before. But now it was monstrous. 
You watched with wide and lust filled eyes as his pants expanded, stretching to the point it looked as though the seams would break. “Can… Can I?” You gesture to his bulge, looking up at him with large, doe eyes. 
“Fuck.” He nods, growling. “Go ahead, Beauty.” His golden-yellow eyes stare down at you, canines digging into his bottom lip as you press your hand against the bulge, feeling it, squeezing it. Your hand is tiny compared to him, causing a whimper to slip from your lips and a growl from his. “You gonna play with it or suck it?” He growls, frustrated. You squeeze your thighs together, grabbing the waistband of his pants and pulling them down. You let out a moan as his member springs free. Nearly slapping you in the face with how big it is. 
You lean forward hesitantly, kissing his weeping tip before bringing it into your mouth and sucking. Your eyes slip closed as you moan around it, it felt so perfect against your tongue. It was a struggle to get the whole tip in your mouth, right now you could only get a small bit in. But you were going to make this work, you didn’t know when another opportunity like this would present itself. Ari watched from above as you struggled to fit him inside, groaning at the sight. 
Your tongue flicked over the slit, collecting the pre-cum that leaks out. You let out a whimper as you slowly move further down his cock, taking more of him inside of your mouth. You can feel yourself dripping onto the floor with how wet you are. Ari’s paw slams down on a nearby bookshelf, his growls fill the room, echoing throughout the castle. You rest your hands on his furry thighs, gripping them as you force more of him in, mouth stretched as wide as it can, sucking him in. One hand moves to the rest you can’t fit in, no matter how much you try and force it to. You wrap it around the base, twisting and jerking while your head bobs up and down, tongue swirling and tracing his veins, causing more sounds to escape the Beast. 
You don’t notice the two brothers that hide in the shadows, watching you suck off their brother. They felt themselves become filled with hope and desire, knowing you were the one that would break their curse. Ari grips your head, holding you down as he cums down your throat, watching it overflow and drip from the sides of your mouth, trying to swallow everything desperately like the good girl you are. When he pulls his cock free from your mouth, all three Beasts take a sharp breath at how good you looked covered in cum, your eyes glazed over with a need to be fucked. 
After the events in the library, everything began to change. Throughout the month, you would find yourself suddenly pushed up against a wall, lips attached to any exposed flesh, hands beneath your dress or groping your breasts. You were so sexually frustrated, the Beasts would rile you up only to leave you wanting more. They would never let you cum, they weren’t even trying to get themselves off. You began to spend your time with them, always sitting on one of their laps, never straying far. If one found you reading or even just simply existing. You’d suddenly be under them, at some point you had cried, begging them to fuck you. 
That evening you were sitting on Geralt’s lap, your lip pulled between your teeth as he gently grinds you down on his bulge. Stopping whenever he felt you were too close. Logan lounged across from you, a cigar dangling carelessly between his smirking lips as his dark eyes watched you. Your gaze was pulled from Logan when Ari leant behind him on the chair. “Are you happy, Y/n–Belle?”
You hum, a bit dazed and distracted by the tingles zapping between your thighs. “Yes. I am very happy, I only wish I could see my father and know he made it home safe. I miss him very much.” 
Ari hummed in response, turning as if he’s searching for something. Geralt continues his torture on you, making your head fall back as you near your orgasm again, whining when he stops, taking it away. “There is a way.” You blink, trying to focus on what Ari is saying. He moves toward you, handing you a magic mirror. In it, you see your father being locked away as the town gathered around, lit torches in their hands as they chant about killing the Beasts and saving you. An unhappy look crosses your face as you see Gaston leading it. “If you need, you may go if you like.” The Beasts didn’t want you to leave. 
You shake your head, “There is no point. There is a group already heading this way, it would be stupid of me to leave now.” Stupid Gaston always ruining your peace. Why was the man so adamant on marrying you? You stand, “I am going outside for a bit of fresh air, is that okay?” You could not think straight when in the same room as them, it was like all common sense flew out the window and the only thing you wanted was for them to use you. 
Ari nods, Logan and Geralt scowl when they hear about people coming to their castle. Geralt had seen the look on your face when seeing that man appear in the mirror, a plan forms and he decides to share it with his brothers. Who wouldn’t love a live show?
Your coat flows around you as you exit the castle, cold air immediately hitting you. You wander over to the blooming rose bushes, gently brushing your fingers over the petals. A sudden squeal escapes you as someone grabs you, putting their arms around you and whispering into your ear. “Hello, MY Y/n–Belle. So far from home, why not come back, huh? Come back and I’ll forgive you, Y/n–Belle, come back and we can marry.” Gaston’s voice caused unwanted shivers to roll through you, his was not the voice you wanted to hear nor the arms you wanted around you. 
“I will never marry you! Why can’t you get that through your thick head?!” You struggle against his grip, teeth clenched as your words come out rough. “You have gone mad, Gaston!” 
Gaston grinned evilly, “Good thing I don’t care, Y/n–Belle. Once I have killed the Beasts, you will be MINE.” You watched as the villagers tore through the castle’s doors, the sound of shouts and a fight breaking out can be heard over the howling wind. “Come. You shall take me to the Beasts, so that I can rid of them and claim you as my own.” His grip on your arm is bruising, dragging you past everyone and up the stairs. You didn’t know why he had chosen this direction, the castle was huge, there was no way he’d be able to find them so quickly… Unless he had been watching, waiting. 
“Ah huh! The Beasts! You are not as terrifying as her lunatic of a father said you were!” He pulls you closer to him, three sets of growls ripple through the air as they watch your face become pained. “I shall kill you at last, so that I can claim Y/n–Belle as my own.” 
“There’s three of us and one of you. What makes you think you can take us?” Geralt growls, his eyes firmly set on Gaston’s. You shivered, you didn’t know whether it was from fear or horniness. You felt yourself throb and nodded to yourself, definitely the latter. “I suggest you let go of our HoneyBelle.” 
Gaston chuckles, pulling a gun from. Well you don’t exactly know where? It was definitely not in his hand or anywhere really when he grabbed you. “This. I am the best hunter there is. I shall have all three of your heads mounted on my wall by morning.” It was a wonder how his head never exploded from how big his ego was. It was almost as big as well… Your mind began to drift again and you had to shake your head to try and rid yourself of these thoughts, it wasn’t the time. 
The Beasts smirked, they had learnt to read your body well. Their Little one, Beauty and HoneyBelle was thinking inappropriately at an unfortunate time. You had come out of your daze in time to notice the designs on the wall come to life. Like a snake, the marble vines slithered across the floor and wrapped around Gaston’s leg. “What is this?!” He tries shaking his leg, letting go of you from the distraction. You squeak as arms pull you toward them, you look up to see Ari before he places you behind him. Gaston snarls, seeing you had gotten away. “You freaks! You think you can defeat me?! I AM THE GREAT GASTON!” He roared, but he was no match for a Beast's roar. 
Having shrunk into himself as Logan roared back, it allowed the vine to pull him into a room that was conveniently set up. It dragged him over to a chair placed in the middle of the room, the arms had strangely been taken off. Gaston was harshly placed down onto the chair, the vines wrapping around him and the seat, securing the angered hunter. “I will escape this foolishness and take Y/n–Belle as my own!” He struggles against the vines grip. 
The three Beasts stalk into the room, pulling you gently, but possessively along. Logan pulls you to stand in front of them, from Gaston’s perspective. You looked so tiny before them, you didn’t even look that tiny next to him and he was the tallest in the village. The Beasts towered over you, looking menacing to everyone but you. 
“You will see who she belongs to. Won’t he, Little one?” Your thighs press together, feeling yourself throb between them and you nod. “Take off your dress.” Your hands move shakily as you lift your dress over your head and gently toss it to your side, Gaston’s eyes widen as he finally gets to see what he’s been wishing for. Maybe the Beasts are going to let him have a taste before he kills them. He smirks at that thought, becoming cocky once more. Logan moves toward you, staring at the hunter as he grasps your breast, squeezing it before rubbing your hardened nipples. “You see this? See how she reacts to our touch?” He growls, everyone in the room watches as you whimper, eyes watering and thighs pressed tightly together. 
“Why don’t you go and lay on his lap, Little one.” He tells you, “On your stomach, no touching.” He glares at Gaston as he says the last part. Knowing in some way that the hunter would try and possibly slip through those vines like the slippery git he is. Logan’s paw hits your arse, pushing you forward with a slap. You squeal, timidly walking over to the bounded man, laying across his lap, the vines seem to welcome you instead of digging into you. 
You bite your lip as you watch the Beasts stalk forward, coming closer. You whimper as Ari kneels between your legs and Geralt stands above your head. Logan stands directly in the middle, staring down Gaston who greedily stares down at you, his mouth opens and everyone knows he’s about to say something, but a vine slithers up and covers it before he can speak. Wrapping itself around until he’s gagged and bound. 
“Such a pretty sight, Beauty. Are you ready to cum after all of this waiting? Hmm? We know we’ve been depriving you of it.” You moan at his words, not being able to respond or place your head down because you were too focused on the giant bulge in front of you. You throb at the sight, you could never get over how large they were. 
“It seems she can’t reply at the moment, Ari. Our girl is a bit dumbstruck.” Geralt tilts his head, looking at Gaston. “Whores, you understand right?” His golden-yellow eyes narrow as his gaze turns back to you. “Why don’t you take my cock out, HoneyBelle. Show this human what you prefer.” You whine, squirming in Gaston’s lap as you reach your hands out quickly, the Beasts chuckle at how desperate you are. 
You had only seen Ari’s cock, none of the other Beasts would give you the pleasure to see theirs. It felt like such a punishment when you could feel them, but you weren’t allowed to see. When you saw Ari’s you thought he was the biggest that you’ve ever seen, obviously you were wrong. Geralt seemed to at least be an inch longer, maybe more. Your eyes flickered over to Logan’s clothed cock, wondering if he was bigger than these two. 
Geralt moves your head back to him, your mouth falls open as he guides his member inside, forcing it in unlike Ari. Speaking of, the other Beast dives between your thighs, lapping up your arousal like a man starved. Your eyes roll to the back of your head at the intense pleasure that shoots through you. Your moans vibrate around Geralt’s member, causing him to tilt his head back and let out a roar. He holds your head in place as he begins to thrust back and forth, fucking your mouth like it’s his own personal fleshlight. You drool from being used, allowing him to thrust in and out easier. 
Ari palms your arse and thighs, holding you close as he devours your sweet cunt. His tongue thrusts in and out of your glistening hole before switching to lick and suck your puffy clit, taking the little bead between his sharp canines. A giant grin appears on his face as your squeals can be heard around his brother’s cock, your squirms become frantic and your toes curl. He laps your sweet juices up, knowing he would never let you go after having tasted you. 
Gaston grunts, becoming disgusted with himself as he hardens at the sight, his growing bulge pushes against your stomach. Twitching as you continue to squirm against him. Logan’s glare sharpens as he notices. 
“Stop.” Everything ceases and you whine, tongue hanging out of your mouth, eyes crossed and cunt tingling as you wonder why the pleasure had been stopped. He waves his paw, gesturing for you to be pulled up. You squeal as Ari pulls you up, his large bulge presses into your back, quite close to your shoulders with how tall he was. “Are you getting off on our Little one?” The growl echoes throughout the room and goes straight to your cunt. 
Logan pulls you from Ari’s hold, holding your hip with one paw while the other pulls his pants down, releasing his thickened member. You feel it slap against your body and jolt, a gasp escaping you. You had a guess that he definitely was the biggest between the three. He grasps his throbbing member in his hold, stroking it as he directs his leaking tip against your sopping cunt. Logan holds eye contact with the defenseless hunter as he thrusts into you, stretching your walls wide. Your head falls back into his chest, no sounds escape your opened mouth as you are speechless. You swear you could see colours with how delicious the stretch felt, you had never felt so full before.
The Beasts and the hunter gulp as they see the bulge appear on your stomach, it slowly disappears as Logan pulls out slowly only to thrust back in. Your arms flail about as you try and find something to grip onto, your hands grab onto his biceps, arms and fur as he begins to pound into you. Growls fill the room as Logan picks up his brutal pace, slamming in and out of you like a wild animal. His grip on your hips tighten, canines bared as he lowers his head down to your exposed neck. 
“Logan!” His brother’s eyes widen as they go to stop him, but it’s too late. Logan latches onto your neck, sinking his canines into your flesh and growling as your warm blood seeps into his mouth. Your eyes roll back as your cunt clenched tightly around the Beast. Your back arches, nails digging into his flesh as you scream, cumming around him repeatedly. 
“Logan!” A different shout comes through. Not his brother’s, but yours. You cry his name as he continues to pull orgasms from your small body, fucking into you harder and faster until he pulls away from your neck and roars, thick ropes of cum shoot out of his thick, angry tip and coat your walls. Filling your tiny cunt to the brim, possibly even making its way into your stomach before it drips out, coating your thighs white. He suddenly feels weakened as he pulls out of you, he stumbles back and falls. Ari catches you as they stare at their brother wide-eyed.
“The curse! It must be the curse!” The brother’s exclaim, looking at each other before looking at you with wide grins. 
“Are you ready for more, Beauty?” You nod rapidly, already feeling desire take over as you think about these Beasts using you again. He pulls you over to the hunter, pressing you into the side of the chair, your breasts pushing into Gaston’s face, back arching as Ari grips onto you and you grip the chair tightly as he guides his throbbing member into your used cunt, his eyes roll back at the feel of how tight you are. “Fuck, Beauty. So perfect for us.” He leans forward, flattening his tongue against your wounded neck, licking up your blood before sinking his teeth in as he begins to pound into you, pushing you into the desperate man. Gaston is forced to suffer as your bare breasts press into him whilst you get fucked by another man. Ari towers over you, covering your whimpering form. His cock slides in and out of your fluttering hole with sharp thrusts, already feeling his end nearing. He slides his paw to your stomach, pressing on the bulge before continuing to travel down to your puffy clit and plays with it. 
You jerk, mouth falling open as your walls tighten around him and your juices flow out, coating him as you cum, your toes curl and your moans fill the room. Ari follows quickly behind, stuffing his cock deep inside of you as he lets go with a roar, filling you with his cum alongside his brother’s. You feel your stomach filling from a weird angle, as he slides out of you, you look down to see your stomach bulging a tiny bit. You whimper, your cunt pulsates as you move toward Geralt, looking up at him with wide eyes. Desperate to be filled again. Not noticing Ari slumping against the wall, his body draining. 
Geralt growls, gripping your throat between his clawed fingers. “You want more, HoneyBelle?” You nod, pouting. Your eyes glazed over. “What a slut you are.” He tuts, “I want to test something out first.” His golden-yellow eyes narrow as he slides his cock deep into your used cunt with one quick thrust. Watching your eyes roll back for possibly the twentieth time that night, he was surprised they hadn’t gotten stuck. He stills and you whine, clutching him, your hips move as you bounce yourself up and down his cock. His grip around your throat tightens. “I want you to watch, HoneyBelle.” You pout, looking at him before he turns your attention to poor defenseless Gaston. 
Your eyes widen as you watch the vines slowly remove themselves from his body, you clutch Geralt tightly as Gaston blinks, he slowly stands and with a vicious growl, he pulls out a dagger and launches himself towards the two of you. Your cunt tightens around the Beast and with wide eyes you watch as Geralt swipes his paw that isn’t gripping your throat, his claws dig deeply into the hunters throat, large slashes appear as Gaston’s body drops. His face permanently set in a shocked expression. You whimper, feeling yourself drip around Geralt’s member. 
You blink, looking innocently at his face as he smirks. “Just what I thought. You are a very nasty whore, HoneyBelle.” You clench around him, the paw that is marked with Gaston’s blood comes up and grips your face while the other moves down to hold onto your thighs. You felt so dirty, but in a good way. You don’t notice him moving you over to a wall, the vines from before slither over, wrapping around your wrists and ankles as they hold you open for all to see. Geralt grins, sliding his bloody paw down your body, leaving a trail of blood that mixes with your own. “I’m going to fuck you now, HoneyBelle. So.” Thrust. “Fucking.” Thrust. “Hard.” With his last word, the Beast begins to pound into you, splitting you open.
You scream and moan, your nails digging into your palms. You can’t help but struggle against the vines, wanting, NEEDING, something to hold onto. Your head hits the wall as your half–lidded eyes watch Geralt ruin you, fucking you like the wild Beast he is. His golden-yellow eyes never leave yours. Not until he leans forward and digs his canines into the very same spot Logan and Ari did, reveling in the taste of your blood, the feel of it flowing into him, dripping down his chin. 
The feeling of his cock splitting you open and his canines ripping through your flesh cause your vision to go white as you cum, squirting all over the Beast. Your arousal coats him, dripping down his thick member. Geralt growls, slamming into you harder and faster, his head now out from your neck, eyes watching you before he buries himself inside of you. Cumming deep into you, his gaze flickers down and he watches as your stomach bulges a bit more from being filled by three different types of cum. He grins, slowly thrusting as he emptied himself inside of you before pulling out and falling to the ground like his brother’s.
The vines don’t pull away, you hang against the wall. Your eyes flutter as your mind is dazed. You swear you see gold swirling around the three Beasts bodies, causing your brows to furrow as you try and blink away the cloudiness. You were saddened that in place of your Beasts were normal human men… You broke their curse. 
The three brother’s groan, slowly dragging themselves up from the floor. Their eyes scan each other before looking down at themselves, seeing their human selves. “Finally. The curse has been broken and I am no longer bound as a Beast.” You whimper, causing their eyes to shoot toward you.
Ari moves over, hands skimming your soft body. “Hello, Beauty.” You frown. 
They were handsome, you weren’t blind. All three of them looked different to each other and their animal form. Ari with medium length brown hair and pretty blue eyes, a bushy beard covering some of his face. Logan with short dark brown hair that somehow had styled small horns on top and hardened blue eyes, a slight beard covering his face. Then there’s Geralt, different from the two with his long white hair and golden eyes, a five o’clock shadow rests on his face. You stared at the brothers. They were gorgeous for humans, somewhat god-like but deep down, you desired the Beasts within them. Somehow, it made them… More.  
Geralt smirks at his work. “I am not going to lie, I will miss being a Beast.” Logan grunts at his brother’s words. The vines finally unravel from your wrists and ankles, allowing Ari to catch you and carry you over to the bed. 
You would later learn that the men wouldn’t stay just men, the Beast still lived within, especially when they tasted your sweet blood before the curse was broken.
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thank you for reading!
feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.
2K notes · View notes
sebscore · 1 year
Note
Forget the wags, could you write something about all the drivers having massive small crushes on reader and like there’s loads of edits on social media of them looking at her with heart eyes or just general ship edits or I mean ship fan fiction that they have to read in a team challenge or something..👀
LATE NIGHT TALKING
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pairings: f1 drivers x driver!reader (indirectly)
warnings: swearing. drunk drivers. lando talking about a woman.
author’s note: I AM BACK FINALLY! also I wrote this in my notes app so pls be patient 😭😭 and this is probs the closest thing I’ll ever write to romance for this series lol
masterlist
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“Out of all the drivers, who would you date?” Pierre drunkenly, almost-giggly, asked the question to his fellow colleagues.
Charles, George, Lando, Alex, Carlos and Yuki nervously laughed at the shit-faced Frenchman in front of them.
“Out of the entire grid?” Charles wanted clarification.
Pierre nodded. “Like hypothetical, if none of us had partners.” He quickly added.
A silence followed. The seven men thinking of all the possibilities.
“I mean…” Lando was the first one to speak up, every head in the hotel room shooting up at him,
“and this stays between us, right?” He followed up, needing reassurance from the others, who swiftly nodded their heads.
“If like, I was single, and I could only date one of the drivers… I would date Y/N.” He confessed.
His words were met with choruses of “same” and “me too”. A small, relieved sigh left Lando’s mouth at the others’ agreement.
“Yeah, you guys are cool and all, but Y/N’s the right answer.” George snickered, awkwardly avoiding eye-contact with the group.
Charles hummed. “I’m also choosing her, but you know, cause I’m not, uh…”
“For the other side of the street?” Alex laughed, taking a swig from his drink.
“Yeah.” The Monegasque’s dimples made an appearance, grinning towards the Williams driver.
“I think she would rather die than date one of you guys.” Carlos said, matter-of-fact.
Charles, George and Lando gave him an unimpressed look, despite knowing he was speaking nothing but the truth.
“She would date me!” The McLaren driver tried saving his own ego and pride.
“She would not.” The six others immediately shot him down.
Lando scoffed at that, sitting up more straight on the bed. “Why? It’s like textbook childhood friends to lovers, or whatever Lily said at that party once.”
“You kinda sound like you want to date her.” Pierre made eyes at him, causing the younger man to lightly push him away.
“I don’t! But I’m just a little offended that you guys don’t think I could, like, you know… bag her.”
“Bag her? She’s not a fucking product.” Alex judged his choice of words, a slight disgusted expression on his face.
“You know what I mean, Albon.” Lando brushed it off, not having bad intentions. “I just think she would be a nice girlfriend to have.”
“I think so too,” Charles agreed, “she’s a lot of fun.”
“I mean- you would never get bored with her.” George hesitantly added to the conversation, feeling a little uneasy about imaging himself with his colleague.
“True.” The seven of them chorused.
“Hey, maybe we should change the topic- it’s getting weird…” Carlos suggested. The atmosphere in Charles’ large hotel room having changed drastically ever since the question had been asked.
“Yeah, good idea.” Lando cleared his throat, uncomfortably shifting on the bed.
“I would choose Pierre to date.”
“Yeah, we know, Yuki.”
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5K notes · View notes
blkkizzat · 1 year
Text
ꨄ︎『Toji x TumblrSmutWriter!Reader』ꨄ︎
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Toji x TumblrSmutWriter!Reader
18+ Minors - DNI
Summary: You shouldn't have left your phone out in the open bestie because now Toji just discovered his cute lil gf has a big slutty imagination and that means you're really in for it ❤︎ . CW: daddy/dilf kinks, humiliation, backshots, outdoor sex, toys, voyerism, breeding, overstimulation, lots of mentions of various kinks, light spanking, light spit play, meta concepts WK: 4.2k Black fem reader coded but no descriptors.
A/N: Y’all can blame my forgetting to take my adhd meds and my hangover yesterday for this one. I was laying on my bathroom floor regretting life choices, waiting on McDs Doordash and thinking up outlines for kinktober when this popped into my head. I thought it would be a quick drabble like 1k words to help my writers block with the "Bumpy Ride" Geto fic but lord knows I can't write shit under 3k, who am I foolin? I don’t even have a song inspo for how spontaneous and random this shit was lmfao but I still had to do a graphic for this one regardless (editing those notifications were hell). Edit- I lied the song inspo is: Girls Need Love Remix - Summer Walker ft. Drake.
Enjoy!
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Imagine you are dating Toji and he finds out you secretly write Tumblr smut fics on the low. 
He comes over to your apartment one night after one of his ‘jobs’ ran late. He has a key, but is wondering where the hell you are as you usually greet him at the door. Going into your bedroom, he finally hears you in adjoining bathroom shower. 
Toji begins to strip down in order to join you but he barely has his shirt off before he notices your phone blowing up. 
Picking your phone up off the bed he sees 206 notifications from an app called “Tumblr”. 
Toji has no fucking clue what the hell a Tumblr is but his jealously starts to soar. He already made your ass go private on Instagram and deleted your Tiktok dances. He got tired of threatening every loser who tried to slide in your DMs or even leave a comment for that matter. 
Imagine his surprise when he unlocks your phone (of course he had made you give him the password) and instead he finds out his new vanilla-as-fuck girlfriend is actually a kinky cockwhore who loves writing character x reader stories about fictional men plugging any n' every one of her holes. Sometimes it was multiple men simultaneously, with their massive cocks bullying your readers until you had them crying. Not to mention them fucking you absolutely stupid in every scenario imaginable, with a huge daddy kink/love of dilfs to top it all off. 
Y/N clearly has type, Toji thought smugly as he saw some art on your page of these animated dilfs that looked similar to him.
But goddamn, some of this shit even he hasn’t considered doing with you yet. Honestly, he’s been holding himself back for your sake as you had been pretty shy at first. His sweet naive little college girl, yet here you were a filthy closeted slut this entire time. 
Tsk, Y/N been holding out on me, eh?
At this point you were probably a bigger freak than he was, he mused with an arched brow as he scrolled through what you called your ‘masterlist’.
It was nothing but a collection of pure unadulterated filth. 
More than anything though while going through your Tumblr, Toji is rather impressed at how popular you are. He reads your intro post where you deem yourself the ‘Self-proclaimed DILF Smut Queen’ and an evil grin appears on his face.
Toji abandons his plans to join you in the shower and he waits for you on your bed while he links-surfs through more of your so-called fics, drabbles and thirsts.
You made your own little pictures to go along with your dirty stories too? Aw, what a sneaky yet talented little whore he had. 
When you finally exit the shower, wrapped only in a big fluffy white towel and your hair pulled back into a ponytail, you are surprised to see Toji sitting shirtless on your bed. 
Toji had promised to be here hours ago. He never even sent a text saying he would be late and you’ve been bored waiting for him all evening so he could give you some of the attention you've been craving. 
Your body is already warm from the shower and your legs rub together as you are already feeling a bit horny just seeing him bare chested.
Walking toward the bed you are eager to go pounce on his lap. That is, until you see it’s your phone he’s scrolling through again without your permission.
You loudly sigh which made his head snap up to look at you.
You’re so ready to tell him off again and remind him your Insta is still private and you only use TikTok to mindlessly scroll, not post dance videos anymore when gives you a dangerous look.
You stop dead in your tracks.
Your eyes grow wide as saucers as you recognize what he’s actually looking at when waves your phone around tauntingly in his hands. 
No.No.No. Not this. Please god, not this!
But your worst fears are confirmed when he starts reading aloud with a huge shit eating grin. 
“You moaned loudly as you threw your head back and bucked against him hungrily. You knew you had to finish quickly unless you wanted his wife to come home to discover the babysitter on top of her husband, making a mess all over his face. His thick tongue lapped into your drenched folds and he spread your puffy pussy lips wider to suck and nip at your swollen clit….” 
Your mouth was agape in shock. You were a deer in headlights.
A million and one thoughts raced through your mind as Toji continued on. He swiped over to the next one, this time a daddy and breeding kink drabble.
“Or how ‘bout… ‘Take it all like the good little slut you are for daddy, Y/N’. ‘N-No daddy, please I can’t cum anymore!’ You babbled as you succumbed to the overstimulation of him ruthlessly breeding your stretched cunt and filling you as you squirted on his dick for the fifth time that night…” 
You could only continue to stand there and gawk at him. This couldn’t actually be happening to you right now.
“Ya really wrote all this nasty shit, Y/N?” Toji teased while still looking at your phone as he found more of your filthy smut to read aloud to you despite the horrified expression on your face.
You of course had written all that ‘nasty shit’ but most of it was before you started dating him, breaking a long dry spell.
You really weren’t one to run the streets and sleep around but you had some kinky ass fantasies and you not getting any action had you needing to express them somehow.
It’s not like you didn’t eventually plan to open up and share a few of your kinks with Toji down the line. But this was a relatively new relationship and Toji was still a bit intimidating to you. Even though Toji treated you with way more care and concern than he did anyone else you’ve seen him interact with, you still had an insecure fear that he would reject you for a few of your kinks. 
Your last boyfriend had called you a weirdo for wanting to call him daddy in bed, so you resolved then to no longer share that part of you.
Hell, not even your IRL friends knew what you got up to. Only the Tumblr followers and moots, who you all shared peaceful anonymity with, were familiar with you and your writing.
Fuck. You had finally found the perfect DILF daddy too, you didn't want to scare him away. 
You cursed yourself for even opening Tumblr earlier. You did so out of restlessness waiting on his ass to come over. You just were going to read a few fics before you realized you had a story in your drafts you never posted that just needed to be proofread.
Wanting to kill time you decided to edit and post it on a whim, not knowing the mess it would be getting you into now. 
“Earth to, Y/N.” Toji snapped his fingers, interrupting your thoughts.
"Where did my perverted baby’s little mind go off to now, huh? So obsessed with being ruined by imaginary cocks you can’t even respond to your own daddy.”
You could have combusted on the spot as you were sure there was more steam coming off you from embarrassment than from the hot shower you had just taken. 
But wait– wtf, your frazzled mind just connected the fact Toji had referred to himself as your daddy. 
Those words sinking in made your entire body tingle. Your pulse quickened as you chewed your bottom lip and fidgeted with the edge of your towel.
Was he also into this?
The fact was Toji was very into this and you were about to find out just how much he was.
Enjoying your reactions fully, Toji stood up and made his way toward you with a crazed look on his face.
“You’ve written 96 pieces of filth Y/N…”
He inched closer and you instinctively moved back. Every fiber of your body sensing the danger in front of you. You wondered if this is how the targets of his ‘jobs’ felt when he approached them. Toji never lied to you about what he did for work but you never felt like you were his prey, until now.
“You’ve been a very naughty girl, have you nothing to say for y’erself, princess?” 
“I-I-I-”, you stumble over your own words. This was all way too much, way too fast, for you to process in order to say anything coherent back to him.
“I-I-I-” Toji mocked your pathetic tone, an evil grin back on his face. 
“Lost your words, Y/N?”
Your body instinctively keeps moving back to keep distance between the two of you as he continues to advance on you.
“But you have so many words to say here, isn’t that right slut?”
Toji toyed with your phone in his hand, spinning it around.
“Slut. That’s what you liked to be called in these stories, eh? The dirty slutty whore with a sloppy cunt just ready to slime all over her daddy’s cock, yeah?”
You gulped as your back hit the glass of your bedroom balcony door with a ‘thud’. You had no more room to run while Toji closes in on you.
He pressed both of his massive hands against the glass as they framed your head, his body hovering over you. You couldn’t help but notice how much bigger than you he was as his frame enveloped you and blocked out the rest of the room. You were trapped.
Too nervous to look him in the eyes, you settled for his chest and Toji’s muscles flexed tantalizingly under your gaze. You lost yourself for a moment as the familiar scent of his heady masculine musk invaded your senses.
Your eyes roamed lower and lower before resting on the bulge beneath his sweats and you softly pant. 
“You’re staring at my dick like you want me to stuff that pretty little throat cunny of yours full. You aren’t making good use of your mouth right now anyway Y/N, might as well see how much of me it can fit.”
You looked away from him completely but that only ignites Toji's flames more.
“Look me in the eyes little girl...” Toji’s hand roughly grabbed your jaw and squished your cheeks together as he brought his face closer to yours.
“This shy act won’t cut it anymore, slut.”
His intensity was overwhelming you. Various emotions threaten to bubble to the surface as you squirm in his grasp and your eyes become glossy with tears.
“You didn’t think you finally had a man who would be into this wild ass shit, now did you?”
You wanted to question him further but you felt your gravity shift as the balcony door whipped open behind you. Toji ripped off the towel covering you as you practically tumbled backwards onto the small landing buttass naked.
The crisp fall night air hits your dampened skin giving you goosebumps. You shiver and immediately drop down in a crouch to cover yourself. 
“T-Toji!! Are you insane?!” You gasped at him in a hushed tone, your silence finally broken. 
Promptly, you scan the seemingly deserted neighborhood streets through the railing for any sign of movement or signal that someone else was outside.
To your relief there was no one in sight.
Thankfully this was a relatively quiet neighborhood and no one was ever really out at this time of night. Nevertheless the shock of it all was sending your nerves into overdrive.
“Toji my ass bitch. It’s daddy to you moving forward–,” he roared jerking you up off the ground, “–and we are going to do every single fucking thing your slutty mind has ever fucking written starting NOW.” 
Your eyes darted as around him if you wanted to run back inside but there was no getting past his brutish build as he quickly slammed the door shut, shaking the frame.
Frankly, you didn’t know whether to be thrilled or terrified as you had written some depraved ass shit over the past year in the midst of your cockdrought. Some of it you had never even seriously thought of actually doing IRL. 
“Let’s start right ‘ere, eh? Did you think I wouldn’t notice the description of the place in your little balcony story matched your own?” 
Your eyes almost popped out of your skull as you recalled what you wrote in that particular smut fic.
ꨄ 
“A-AH! N-NOOO TOJI, W-WAIIIIIIIT!” You whined through gritted teeth. 
You tried (and failed) not to release any noises from the unrelenting backshots Toji was currently giving you as he folded you over the balcony railing. The tips of your toes barely rested on the cold floor as your ass bounced back into him and had your clit throbbing when his heavy balls smacked against the sensitive nub.
You had previously only fantasized about Toji being this rough with you, but now that it was actually happening for real you couldn’t think straight. Your lungs burned from sucking in the frosty night air and your cunt pulsed from his thick girth stretching you open. 
Shockwaves ran along your body with every cruel thrust of his hips. The force of it reduced your legs to jelly and you were sure you would have collapsed had he not had you suspended like you were, between him and the railing. 
Toji seemed both unfazed by the cold and your cries for mercy as he shushed you with a harsh spank. He enjoyed the way your fat ass rippled under his heavy hand in the moonlight so much he gave you a few more for good measure.
Your tits violently swayed over the edge as one of your hands grasped the railing for stability and the other held your phone in front of you. Toji was making you dictate your story for him as he reenacted the play by play assault on your cunt.  
The bright screen you held was near blinding to your teary eyes. You mentally cringed as you knew it would act as a shiny beacon to view your activities if anyone walked by the small apartment complex or hell, even stepped out on their balcony. 
“T-Toj- Daddy, w-what ‘bout– neigh-h-b-bor-s?”
You managed to croak out over the sloshing of your cunt and slapping sounds of flesh that echoed into the atmosphere everytime he rammed into you. You couldn’t bear to look around to see if any of your neighbors had started to investigate.
“Pshhh, Fuck your neighbors Y/N! They clearly don’t have a cockcrazed baby to please that writes dirty little stories about imaginary men like I do.”
If you didn’t know better you would think he was actually jealous of the DILFs in your stories too from the way he was sadistically fucking into you. 
His thrusts caused your icy tears to run down your face and sent your tits bouncing into the wind. Your cold and neglected nipples hardened in the chill to the point of delicious pain.
“B-but- it's too c-cold out D-Daddy!”
“Mmn, yet your pussy feels warm enough, Y/N. Too hot even. This is for your benefit, you know–,” Toji stated matter-of-factly while he increases the speed his pounding into you, “–So you remember you have your own Daddy who will fuck you anyway you want, anytime you want…just, fuck, tell Daddy what his slutty baby needs.”
The way his hips are driving into your core knocks the wind out of you. Toji tightens the already brutal grip on your hips which assists him in pressing deeper into your cunt. The movement has you almost slipping. You nearly drop your phone off the balcony when your toes stepped in the growing pool of shared juices flowing down your legs and collecting at your feet.
“Hold that shit tight for daddy baby, got it? You drop it and we gotta start over, yeah? I’ll make you walk downstairs ass naked just like this to get it too,” Toji breathed out huskily. 
You realize you’ve never heard him sound this needy before now.
“What’s next, in y’er lil’ story huh?… Speak up so I can hear it over this messy cunt.” 
There was an edge of desperation for you clear in his tone. Although to your dismay it causes your body to gush around him harder meaning you would have to speak up even louder as your pussy squelches grew more vulgar in volume. 
You nearly shouted out the next part groaning and mixing in incoherent babbles throughout the smut filled paragraph as Toji doesn't slow to help you. If anything Toji picks up speed and grows even harder inside of you as he's encouraged by his baby's filthy words.
“...H-he- lifts your leg, r-resting your knee on the edge of the bal-c-cony. T-T-The angle allows h-him, fuck, deeper access to your c-cunt. Ah-h-h-a clear view of his c-cock badgering your core f’er a-anyone who happens to p-pass belowwww-ohmygod. Y-you seeeeee s-stars as he callously s-slams into your c-cervix, shitshitshit, n-nearly fa-fa-fucking you off the balcony if not for his s-strong hold on youuuu–ah. Y-you violently t-tremble as you c-cum s-screamiiiiing, not fuckdaddyfuckkkk, caring if your n-neighbors could s-see or h-hear you any l-longer.”
“HA! Is that so–” Toji lifts your leg just like you wrote in your fic, “–guess I am gonna to have to keep fucking this tight cunt until you no longer give a fuck about anything else but this dick, eh?”
You hear what sounds like a door slide open near you and you begin to whine about your neighbors again before Toji jerks your head back by your ponytail to whisper in your ear. 
“I wouldn’t worry that nasty, pretty little head of yours about these neighbors babydoll…” 
The new angle allows Toji to bury himself deeper into you just like you told in your story and his tip hits your cervix so hard you think he might actually penetrate. 
“...if I were you Y/N... I would think about how daddy’s needy lil whore is gonna make it through an entire day of classes tomorrow with clamps on your nipples and a remote control vibrator up your cunt.”
He licked the side of your face and spit in your mouth before carelessly pushing your head back. You loudly moaned as his bruising grip returned to your meaty hips as his nonstop aggressive assault on your cunt proceeds.
You feel yourself getting close, your eyes rolled back into your head and drool seeped down the corners of your mouth. You cursed your weakness for this shit as you felt yourself give into the pleasure. You surprise even yourself as you never actually thought this kinda sex could be so fucking good you wouldn’t care about shit else for real. 
“Goddamn mamas, squeezing me so hard–” Toji’s hips snapped into you with every syllable, his voice becoming more animalistic, “–you want me to fill this pussy up? Mmm, I fucking know you do the way she’s milking me. Fuck, might even put a baby in you, give ‘gumi a sibling. We won’t be able to do some of that kinky shit you wrote unless I knock a baby up in this cunt, ya know.”
Of course, Toji being the sexy ass DILF straight out of your dreams would love breeding kinks too.
His ramblings cause you to tighten and clench around him even more. You’ve wanted to beg for him like this since you first started dating. Just thinking of the words spilling out of your mouth nearly pushed you over the edge.
You were so close to release.
“I-Inside me D-Daddy pleasepleaseplease!,” you slobbered out, struggling to make sentences from all the pleasure within you.
“F-fill me– fill me D-Daddy, knock this tight little cunt up, w-want it– want it– w-want it–!!!”
Your voice caught in your throat and you nearly choked once you felt your peak hit. Your pussy sent tremors around his dick as you creamed around him. You can't think of anything else but him inside of you.
You just came but Toji allowed you no rest. He still pummeled inside you as he chased his own high and slurred vulgar curses of praise for his pretty lil’ whore's dirty mind, while planning the next debaucherous smut for you both to reenact.
“Ya think it's too late now f’er prime next day delivery for those toys, baby? Fuck, look that up while y’er still holding that phone.”
You didn’t even realize you still had your phone in your hand but were just thankful you didn’t drop yet. You didn't think it would survive the fall.
Groaning you tried to rally the strength to even lift the phone to face unlock when you locked eyes with someone below. You instantly recognized the person as the elderly woman with the flower garden from down the street.
The old lady had always been very kind to you, making pleasant conversation, offering you fresh flowers for your kitchen and praising you for how reminded her of her own sweet young daughter at your age. 
Unfortunately for you both, she was casually walking her two mini poodles when her eyes were affronted with you practically hanging off the balcony. A blissed out expression plastered across your face while Toji held you, battering your slick pussy full of his thick cock.
The old woman’s eyes widened in terror as if she actually witnessed a crime scene as she panicked, yanking her two dogs away swiftly back in the direction of her home. You knew you would have to take the long way home from now on.
Nevertheless Toji, who was none the wiser and wouldn’t give a single fuck regardless, merely continued planning out your next smut fic enactment.
“Nah fuck it, we’re going to the library tomorrow. See how many pages you can read of that dull ass biology book while y’er warming my cock... Tch, or should we do the one where y’er fucking the coach in the men’s locker room, whacha think baby?”
"Hmmmnmmrgh", you could only moan in reply.
You were already near hyperventilating from your own climax, the shame of now having to avoid your neighbor for life and Toji’s fiery body creating a storm of friction clashing with the freezing temperatures.
But your senses were now wholly overloaded once you felt him reach down to pinch and rub at your clit. 
“Cum again with Daddy baby, shit, can ya do that f’er me?” Toji sounded like he was close and he slapped your clit even harder causing you to scream out.
Cockdrunk and overstimulated you could no longer communicate as your entire body felt like it was an extension of your pussy. The thick fluids flowing out of your body increased the sizable puddle already at your feet. You utterly surrendered to the feeling and your body wrecked with pleasure electrifying you. 
You almost blackout as you feel his cock bust hot seed into your tummy melting your insides and causing you to cum all over again.
"Fuck, that’s it, take it all. Can't wait to see this belly and these tits full mama."
The aftershock of your orgasm feels near endless as Toji continues to fuck thick ropes of his cum into you. 
Losing track of time you weren’t sure how long it was before Toji finally pulled out and took you off the railing. Holding on to you so you can balance and turning you to face him he places you down on your unsteady feet. You immediately bury your head into his chest as his heat envelops your cold skin. Your breathing finally starts to calm in his embrace. 
“So good f’er daddy babygirl,” he murmurs into your hair, savoring your scent.
“Warm bath, yeah?”
“Sure, but you gotta carry me daddy.”
You yawned while Toji’s already lifting you princess style in his strong arms. You were exposed still in the night but at the same time you have never felt safer. 
You curl further into his warmth as he kisses your forehead and finally brings you back inside.
Once inside the bathroom Toji sets you down on the edge of the tub while the water runs and he leaves to grab some fresh towels.
You can’t help but feel euphoric as you smiled to yourself. You are too giddy!
You finally have the DILF daddy you always wanted and could be open about your kinks without any judgment. 
However your mood shifts when Toji returns. You give him an incredulous look as you see your pink waterproof vibrator in his hands. 
Toji turns it on and saunters over to you, his scar twisted into a devilish smirk.
“95 more fuckfics to go ma’, we don’t have time to waste…”
Fucking hell, you had entirely forgotten about the overstimulation in the bath drabble. 
You quiver in both anticipation and distress as you aren’t sure how your completely spent and nearly frozen body is gonna be able to cum four more times tonight. 
Could there ever be too much of a good thing?
You weren't sure what those limits were exactly.
“Ya know, Y/N–," Toji started slyly, interrupting your thought.
”If I hit up Shiu and you asked him nicely with that pretty lil' mouth, I’m positive he would be down for some double daddy Eiffel Tower action.”
However from the feral grin on Toji’s face he appeared determined to test those limits with you.
You could thank your Tumblr smut fics for that. 
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© ʙʟᴋᴋɪᴢᴢᴀᴛ 2023. ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜱ ʀᴇꜱᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ. ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ꜱᴛᴇᴀʟ, ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ, ᴄᴏᴘʏ ᴏʀ ᴄʜᴀɴɢᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇꜱ ꜰɪᴄꜱ, ᴅʀᴀʙʙʟᴇꜱ, & ɢʀᴀᴘʜɪᴄꜱ. ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴀʀᴇ ᴀʟʟ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ʙʏ ᴍᴇ ᴜɴʟᴇꜱꜱ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀᴡɪꜱᴇ ꜱᴛᴀᴛᴇᴅ. ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ.
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A/N: I honestly have to say I am a bit impressed with myself as I’ve never finished a story in one day before ever (although it took most of today to proofread and I still think there might be errors soz). Hopefully this is a good sign for powering through those Kinktober fics once classes start up again this Weds. Also If there is any interest possibly a PT 2 after Kinktober featuring a threesome with Shiu at his office.
Edit: errors/grammar fixed as of 9/26.
This one goes out to all of us dilf smut queens who simp Toji ❤︎
Please reblog to have DILF Daddy Toji dick you down, but likes and comments are always appreciated just the same!
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bunnys-kisses · 7 months
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little mouse - simon "ghost" riley
pairing: simon 'ghost' riley x reader rating: 18+summary: Simon Riley never thought about legacy. The idea of carrying on his ‘lineage’. He was a man on a mission, there was no time to settle down and have a couple of brats running around. The idea of being a father didn’t really sound too enticing, in a way he didn’t think he’d even be a GOOD father. So he simply ignored the idea. That was until he met you. tags: dark themes, breeding/pregnancy kink, dub/non-con, he won't take no as an answer, mating press, dirty talk, dacryphilia, delusional!ghost, choking, rough sex, 3.3k words
a/n: this is a work of fiction. read at your own risk.
join my discord! (18+)
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 Simon Riley never thought about legacy. The idea of carrying on his ‘lineage’. He was a man on a mission, there was no time to settle down and have a couple of brats running around. The idea of being a father didn’t really sound too enticing, in a way he didn’t think he’d even be a GOOD father. So he simply ignored the idea. That was until he met you.
The cute little private that scurried around base like a little mouse. And while Simon had never caught a mouse, there was no time like the present to do so. You were simply so small, he wondered if he’d even fit inside of you. But he had plans if it didn’t work like that. But, he’d make sure he could at least get the tip in. He wanted to feel that sweet heat around him.
Such a fragile little thing, he could easily break you. One wrong move and you’d be painted black and blue. If he grabbed you too hard, he could break your arm, smack your ass too hard and leave you with broken blood vessels. There was just too much that he could do. And a sick part of him wanted to do it all. But his main drive was to make sure that the womb was stuffed.
When he has some alone time, he’d often fantasize about you. He thought of your sweet scent, your tight cunt. The noises you’d make, how flushed you’d get. As he pleasured himself, he thought about bullying your cunt. He wanted to make you scream as he filled you to your brim.
He wanted to bruise your spongy cervix and make sure no other man could ever paint your insides white. That was a task for him and him alone. He’d make sure that you wouldn’t dare to THINK about other men. You were his and he’d do everything in his power to make sure that you were reminded of that. Even if you didn’t know it yet.
The sheer thought of you changing on a fundamental level to carry his child. The change in every sense of the word, from single to a mother. The leftover pregnancy fat at your hips, the heaviness of your breasts. Even your brain would change. And the thought of his little mouse swollen with his (many) children, left him aching for more.
Even as he finished on his fist, with his breath ragged, he yearned for you. And it was only a matter of time before he went mouse trapping.
-
Turns out he could catch a mouse with a nice treat. He had found out about your sweet tooth and led you back to his quarters. He had enough when he watched you take the sweet out of his palm with your mouth. His blood boiled with a sexual rush.
With the candy in your mouth, he grabbed you by the hair and titled your head back so you met face to face with him. His voice was low as he said, “You think you can tease me?”
You whimpered, “It was a joke, lieutenant.” So vulnerable, so small.
He chuckled darkly, “I think you’re lying. I see you around base, and I have to say I think you’re teasing’ me. Makin’ me look like an idiot as you run around base. I bet you’re sleeping’ with other men. Slut.”
You whined, “Please! I’m not!”
 “I think you are.” He heard you bite down on the candy in fear. He got closer and started to pull at your pants. He felt his cock twitch in his own pants as he struggled to get your clothes off. He swore he could hear your heartbeat from where he was. You were scared, good.
  “Please, Lieutenant Ghost. Please!” You practically squeaked. You tried to push him away but he only got closer. He dragged you as he took your pants off.
He grabbed your hair once more and glared down at you. His chest rapidly rose and fell. “Be good, little mouse. You better take me like a good girl, because if you don’t you’ll tear.”
You had tears in your eyes and felt him wipe them away with the calloused palm of his other hand. You sniffled, “Please, sir. I’m not trying to tease you. Don’t hurt me.”
He delicately kissed your forehead, “I could never hurt you. But I can’t promise that my cock won’t stretch you out. That’s why you gotta be good for me.” His voice was a low purr as he laid you out on the bed. The bag of candies had been cast to the side as he got on top of you.
You swallowed back fear, the tears came and he licked a stray one away off of your cheek. For a moment you thought about running to the closest commander. But who was going to believe you? You were nothing but a mouse, and Simon was the phantom that could burn this entire base down if he so desired. No one would believe that the shadow, the ghost, would ruin a sweet little private.
You felt your throat tighten as you let out a quiet sob.
He got you out of your clothes, you were more agreeable now. You understood that you were under Simon. You were his little mouse. The one who had every intention of knocking up, even if you didn't exactly consent to it.
The idea of you swollen with his child turned him on, it made his stomach tighten from the mental image. He loomed over you, his breathing heavy from the course of euphoria in his system.
A life away from combat, somewhere his precious wife could have their family. He'd keep you full, all you had to do was keep giving him little brats. He grit his teeth as he stared down at you.
You were shaking like a leaf, you were scared of what was going to come next. He already had you naked. You felt your heart in your throat, you couldn't even scream for help.
  “My mouse.' he said, ”So small.“ He brushed his clothed cock up against you and shuddered, ”I could break you and it wouldn't even be that hard.“ His voice was low, ”You need to be kept safe. Somewhere quiet.“
You frowned, ”I am strong.“
The corner of his mouth turned upwards, ”I bet. I bet everyone has told you your entire life that you were a strong woman who didn't need any man.“ He pinned your arms over your head, ”But I know better. You'd be happier with a husband and a big piece of land.“ He kissed your bare neck.
You whimpered and squirmed in his grasp, but there was no escaping him. Simon Riley had gotten his talons into you and he was not letting go. You squirmed more as you felt his hot breath against your neck.
  ”These hands aren't meant to kill.“ He growled, you could feel the calluses on his palm, ”They're meant to wrangle my kids and bake bread.“ He chuckled softly.
  ”I can kill.“ You said it was almost too innocent.
He barked out a loud, which made you jump, ”Sure thing, sweetheart. I bet it would be so easy for you to get out of this mess and fight me off.“ He pressed his hardened cock further against you, ”That's probably why you're fuckin' other men. In the hopes they'd protect ya. But don't worry, little mousey, I'll keep you safe.“
You whimpered, ”I never slept with anyone on base.“
He looked at you once more, “Well. If that's true then I guess my job will be a little easier. Knowing' that my swimmers are the only ones in you.”
  “Please, Sir.” You whimpered, “We can pretend like this never happened. I promise not to tell a soul!”
He laughed again, those sharp eyes glared down at you, “Why would we want to pretend this didn't happen? Do you not want to remember the night we made our first brat?”
You felt a twist in your gut. You had gone off birth control when you joined so you didn't have to worry about maintaining the schedule of taking it. Without any other protection there was a high chance that he could actually knock you up.
You tried to kick him off but he was just solid muscle that it was like kicking a wall. You started to cry which only made the man pinning you down groan.
  “Cryin' is not going to help, lovie. If I don't get you now, you'll slip away and into another man's arms. Now relax, I'll take care of everything.”
He took off his own clothes, the sight of his large cock made you freeze. He chuckled at the expression on your face. Once he was bare he kept you pinned to the bed once more.
 “Like what you see?” He asked.
You looked up to him again, there was worry in your eyes. You swallowed before you spoke, “it's not going to fit.” You felt a surge of anxiety rush through you. Something like that was not going to fit in your tight hole. 
He nodded, “It will. Pussies can take a hell of a beatin'. I told you if you were good I'd make sure that I took my time so I didn't tear you.“
  ”It will tear anyway.“ You replied.
  ”I wouldn't worry about your little head, my little mouse. Just don't tense when I put it in.“ He replied as he rubbed the top of your head before he got back on his heels and grabbed your hips.
You felt so perfect in his grasp. Sometimes sso delicate and tiny against him. You were perfect, even if you were so small. Maybe he wouldn't bruise you. But he would still breed you, bruise that poor cervix of yours.
 “You're a good girl.” He said, “You know how to behave.” He brushed his fingers through your hair. You gazed up at him with concern, “I'll make sure nothing hurts you.”
You braced for impact as he went to guide his cock into you. You squeezed your face and tensed up. It made him groan as he couldn't even get the tip in.
  “Now, girlie. You better relax, or I'm finding another hole to fuck and I don't have any lube.” He growled.
You held onto the bed under you and took a shaky breath. This was happening. The litenutant was going to fuck you lie a second rate whore in the hopes of getting you knocked up for his sick carnal need to breed.
He watched you relax before he tried again. He shuddered as he managed to get an inch in. It felt like the wind was knocked out of him.
You looked up at him once more, trying to keep yourself together to not squeeze too tight. You were being violated by a much larger man, but yet you were soaked between your legs. The more he pushed in, the more you felt it in the deepest parts of you.
By the time he had all of his cock inside of you, it felt like it was in the back of your throat. He was so big, you didn't know how he did not get light headed when he got an erection.
  “Good girl.” He growled. He hunched over you and kept you pinned to the bed by your hips. He loved the chubbiness to your thighs and hips, a squishiness that made his heart skip. You were a perfect woman.
  “Please pull out.” You gave it one last feeble attempt.
He chuckled as he gazed into your eyes, “No, no. Gotta add a little more fat to your belly. Gotta keep the brats nice and protected.” He leaned in further and began to make out with you as he moved you so your knees were to your chest and your pussy was facing upwards.
He had you squished between his large body and the creaky bed. The kiss was heavy and wet, his tongue explored your mouth. While in other scenarios it would've been sweet, but not when the power dynamic was uneven and you had little say in what was happening.
But he thought that the position was perfect, a way to make sure every drop stayed in you. The thought made his cock twitch inside of you.
  “Ah, Sir.” You whimpered.
He chuckled, his lips close to you. But then he pulled you back in for another searing kiss. His pace began to pick up as he kept you under him.
You were becoming so perfect. He couldn't wait to mark your insides with his cum. To paint you as his. Hopefully today would be his lucky day and it would be the day he got you pregnant.
You whimpered against him and laid there. His cock was so thick, it felt like someone was trying to fuck you with a bottle. Every hard thrust made the air leave you lungs, and it was hard to put more air in as he kept kissing you.
He wanted to keep you quiet. He didn't need his wife to squeal on him. He couldn't let the mouse leave the trap. The bed creaked under you and you breathed rapidly through your nose.
When he pulled away, he placed a strong hand over your neck and kept you pinned to the bed. You made a strangled noise as he picked up the pace. You could feel the blood rush to your head and he thought that was perfect.
His cock was heavy inside of you, his balls slapped against your ass as he kept you in the mating press. His erection slammed against your womb, you knew you'd ache for days.
This was everything he hoped for.
You let out another strangled noise and he told you to keep quiet. You tried to complain but he tightened his hand a little tighter around your throat.
  “No one needs to know how well you take cock.” He growled.
  “Please, Sir... Mister Ghost, please.” You whimpered.
  “No, no, my little mouse. I caught you fair and square. All it took were a few candies and I had you right where I needed ya. You're too trusting.” He said, “You should be somewhere safe with a man who can protect you.”
You pouted at him, “Please. I am strong.”
  “I know you are. Only a strong woman can give me kids. But you are just a little mouse. And I'm going to eat you up and breed you.” The last of the sentence dripped off his tongue like poison as he continued to thrust.
You felt every thrust in your bones, every inch of his cock stretched your pussy. It was painful but your body betrayed you and found pleasure in it. It felt sickening but there was no stopping the ghost.
It was hard to breathe with your knees to your chest. With him rearranging your abdomen. His attempts to batter your cervix left you feeling achy. It hurt but it also made your head swim with a sick wanton lust that made you almost angry with yourself.
Maybe it was a way to rationalize what he was doing to you. But as you stared at his scarred face, those dark eyes gazing at you as he pushed up into your body. You thought to yourself, at least if you had a husband like him, you'd always be safe. And maybe your kids would be cute.
It Was his words getting into your mind but it was hard to think of much else as he abused your sex. His cock invaded your womb and shaped it so it was perfect for his cock.
  “Don't worry, sweetheart, you'll get looser after the first few kids.' He grumbled in your ear as he continued to move.
You squirmed as you felt your backside grow numb from the position, ”Please, sir.“
  ”Be good.“ He said gruffly.
  ”Don't get me pregnant.“
  ”Too late.“ He said quietly, ”You're mine. You, me and all the brats you can pump out. You're not going anywhere. No need for all this training, just be a good wife and let your husband fuck you.“
It was as if Simon was delusional. But it was hard to keep a man like that away, not when they possessed so much power. He could snap your neck or break your legs if he really tried.
You should've never followed him back. You shouldn't have been such a silly, stupid little mouse and gotten yourself stuck in a trap. Because this was what it was, baby trapping.  
He was going to trap you with him. There was no escaping after this, even if you weren't pregnant. He'd simply take what he wanted and man handle you into sex again. He was a man on a mission, just like on the field.
The thrusts became erratic, he could feel the twist of pleasure in his gut as he fucked you. His breathing grew heavier as did yours. He licked his lips at the sight of the bruises on your body from how he handled you.
There was no denying what he did.
  ”Gonna be a good girl and let me breed you. Fuck all that need to be independant out of you.“ He growled, ”Make you a nice petty, pregnant wife.“
You nodded meekly, your cheeks were flushed, your body was bruised inside and out. You were going to be sore even before you found out you were pregnant.
 ”Good girl.“ He patted the side of your face, ”Good fuckin' girl.“
He continued to thrust into you, the bed moved against the wall with each thrust. The heat between you two left you hot all over.
You panted wildly and squeezed your eyes shut as your body betrayed you once more and you orgasmed. You clung onto the covers under you and let out a sharp exhale as you came.
Your cunt tightened around his cock and it was enough to send him over the edge and climax himself. As he rode out his orgasm, his pace slowed down. Soon he was still with his softened, yet still impressive cock inside of you.
You whined as you tried to lay fully out of the bed. But he kept your hips up to make sure every drop slid into your womb. He gripped your hips and started to move once more.
  ”No, please. I've had enough.“
  ”Too bad, lovie. I've gotten a taste for you and I'm not stopping until my balls are empty.“ He slapped your ass and you whined.
So much for a future in the military. You guessed you'd have to live with a military wife.
-
It had been a year since you left the military, since then your belly had gotten an impressive shape to it. It took a lot of work, but you ended up pregnant with Simon's baby.
Currently you were facing the door of your bedroom with your pussy stretched around your husband's cock. His hands were on your belly.
Large calloused hands were feeling up the slope of your pregnant belly. He loved the heft to it. He was told it was going to be quite a large baby when it comes out.
 ”Ah, sir.“ You gasped.
Some habits die hard.
  ”That's it, sweetheart. Keep workin' those hips.“ He encouraged. He groaned through a tense jaw as he felt the underside of your belly.
 ”Please, ah!“
 ”Perfect.“ He groaned, ”Gonna keep you pregnant for a long time.“ He chuckled softly to himself.
You whimpered, ”Please, I love you.“ You sounded so desperate.
At the end of the day, the little mouse had learned to love her trap. And in return she got a nice round belly to show her love.
xoxo, bunny
1K notes · View notes
adrienneleclerc · 4 months
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Jealous
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Hispanic/Latina! Reader
Summary: Charles gets easily jealous when his girlfriend fawns over her fictional or celebrity crushes
Warning: spelling and grammatical errors
A/N: all the characters and celebrities mentioned are people I find attractive. If you don’t have a crush on them, that’s fine, to each their own
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Y/N and Charles were watching American Assassin because Charles wanted to watch an action movie and he has never seen it.
“Ugh, Dylan O’Brien could get it.” Y/N said and Charles turned so fast to look at her.
“What?” Charles asked.
“Dylan O’Brien could get it, he is so fine, I already thought he was cute as Stiles but as Mitch Rapp? Ooh, so fine, I’d let him choke me.” Y/N said, eating chips and Charles just looks at her. “What?”
“Were you always this unhinged?” Charles asked.
“A little, but have you seen his veiny arms when he was being held at gun point? I wanna bite them.” Y/N said and Charles looked at his arms and back at the screen.
“Mon ange, my arms are veiny, you could bite mine.” Charles said.
“I bite yours all the time when we’re not in public. There’s just something about Dylan O’Brien playing Mitch Rapp that does something for me. Like look at those abs.” Y/N said and Charles immediately retaliated with
“I have better abs than him!” Charles exclaimed, making a point by taking off his shirt and standing next to the TV to compare him and Dylan O’Brien
“Ay muñeco, Im teasing, don’t take it too seriously.” Y/N said, pulling him back to the bed and kissing him.
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The next time Charles got “jealous” was when Y/N was on TikTok and she saw a video of The Drivers Era performing.
“Ross Lynch es tan guapo, no wonder when he performed in Mexico, todos le estaban diciendo que se encuere.” Y/N said and Charles was brushing his teeth in the bathroom. Charles poked his head out to see Y/N in bed. “What? Ross is 6’1, our height difference is literally perfect.”
“Are you trying to hurt me, Mon ange?” Charles asked before spitting into the sink.
“Of course not muñeco, he’s just a celebrity crush, it’s not like anything will happen.” Y/N commented.
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Then it happened again when Charles and Y/N were out with Pierre and Kika. They saw a movie poster for the ministry of ungentlemany warfare.
“We should see this movie, the trailer looks amazing.” Kika said.
“And so does Henry Cavill, I love how curly his hair is.” Y/N commented.
“Just once I would like to go out and not listen to you talk about other men.” Charles said.
“Whats happening there?” Pierre asked
“Charles gets butthurt when I talk about my celebrity crushes.” Y/N said.
“What do they have that I don’t?” Charles asked.
“Well Ross and Henry are 6 feet tall, Ross plays hockey and I LOVE hockey boys, Henry played field hockey, but you’re taller than Dylan O’Brien, I’ll give you that.” Y/N said and Charles stared at her.
“You weren’t supposed to give me a list!” Charles exclaimed while laughing at how ridiculous this conversation was.
“You literally asked!” Y/N exclaimed. “But I also want to see the movie for Eiza Gonzalez, totally support her making it big in Hollywood.”
“Yes! Loved her in Baby Driver!” Kika said and her and Y/N started talking about movies.
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Y/N was watching Supernatural and eating ice cream.
“God I love this episode, he looks so good.” Y/N said. Charles looked at the screen and back at her.
“Really? The Winchester brothers in prison? Isn’t the guy who plays Dean like 50?” Charles asked.
“Um, he’s 46, and he looks good for his age considering he’s white.” Y/N said.
“Cant believe you love Dean Winchester. Why not Sam?” Charles asked.
“I love both Winchester brothers, I just relate to Dean more. And in the later seasons, I don’t like Sam’s hair. But Sam’s hair in season 1 and 2? LOVE.” Y/N said.
“What about my hair?” Charles asked.
“Muñeco, you know how much I love to pull on it when we’re kissing and other stuff.” Y/N says, kissing Charles, running her hands through his hair to make a point, he pulled away.
“Mm, I love when you do that.” Charles said smiling.
“I know you do.” Y/N said, continuing to play with his hair. “There’s no reason to be jealous of my celebrity crushes, okay?“
“I’m not convinced, how about you show me that you’re mine and mine alone.” Charles said, hand wrapped around Y/N’s throat, not applying pressure.
“It would be my pleasure.” Y/N said, holding Charles’s hand to run to their bedroom.
The End
Hope y’all like it!
784 notes · View notes
luvyeni · 2 months
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GUYS MY AGE ,, 이민호
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pairings ‎⸝⸝⸝ lee know x fem!reader wc. 6.2k+
genre. neighbors!au , smut
𓄷 includes ... cheating, unprotected sex, oral ( m. receiving ), literally the mother isn't the only sane person im sorry THIS IS PURE FICTION
「 authors note 𖹭 」 here it is the fic , i hope you like it 😅
❪ masterlist! ❫
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guys your age never really appealed to you— you liked older men— blame it on your daddy issue, you didn't care; something about an older man just made your heart go crazy— and your panties wet.
“you need to find something to do this summer while you're home.” your mother said, you had made your return home from college for the summer, ready to soak up the sun by your pool in the backyard. “how about getting a job, the couple next door is looking for a babysitter for their three kids while they work.”
your mom watched your face scrunch up in disgust. “why would I want to babysit their sticky children?” you scoffed, picking at your freshly painted nails. “how do you plan on making money then?” you sighed, of course you already planned for this. “Mom, don't worry, I've got it all covered.” you smiled reassuringly; and you weren't lying, you did— but could you really tell your mother you planned on getting money from the many older men you managed to seduce during your time at college. “you better, don't just rot in your room all summer.”
“what if i go help the old lady across the street?” you asked standing up to put your dish in the sink. “Will that ease your worries, mother?” of course you didn't want to do it, but it would make your mother happy. “oh i didn't tell you?” she said, you shook your head, telling her to continue. “her children moved her to a nursing home.” you felt your lip curl up into a smirk. “good she was a bitch.” you said, the grumpy old lady could never stay out of your business. “I really would've hated doing that.”
“yeah she was wasn't she?” she chuckled. “Anyways, the couple who moved in there have only been here for about a month; I see the lady when I'm on my way to work.” she said. “The husband I'm pretty sure stays at home and work— you should introduce yourself, let them know who you are.” you really didn't want to; but the look in your mother's eyes, you could tell she wasn't asking you. “Fine, I'll do it later, happy?” your mother turned the water off, kissing your head. “ecstatic, im gonna get ready for work.”
“what are you doing?” jisung spoke through the phone; your bestest friend in the whole world— and your biggest enemy too. “well since you decided to flee the fucking country this summer; leaving me here.” you scoffed. “I'm stuck here rotting in my home.” you saw him smile; you scoffed before he spoke up. “Sorry, it was a last minute trip with felix.” Felix was his boyfriend; his very rich boyfriend. “yeah well while you're being wined and dined throughout europe, i’m stuck here.” you laid flat on your stomach, legs in the air.
“Remember when you left me in the dorms during spring break?” he asked. “And that business man took you to hawaii? consider this as pay back.” you rolled your eyes. “fuck you, that trip was horrible anyway, all he did was work and complain about how much he hated his hate wife— we had sex once the entire trip.” you scoffed. “You got a Gucci bag out of it though.” you hummed; he was right. “best thing to come out of it.”
“oh yeah.” you were now sitting up. “Remember the old lady across the street from me?” you asked. “yeah she was a bitch.” you nodded. “Her kids finally did everyone a favor and put her in a home.” he clapped. “good riddance, so did anyone move in that house?” you hummed. “yeah a married couple, mom wants me to introduce myself, let them know i'll be here for the summer.”
“yeah it would be confusing to see a girl in a skimpy ass bathing suit sunbathing in her front yard.” you shrugged; the sun just hit better in the front of your house. “Keep her husband on a leash, like the rest of the house wives on your street do when they see you coming, I wouldn't be too surprised if they already got to her.” you laughed, you never really cared what those women thought about you; you never really cared about their husbands, it was more so the other way around. “I really don't care about those housewives, their problem is their husbands and their wandering eyes, not me.” You defended.
“I should go introduce myself before my mom gets home.” you said. “Yeah, I have to go, Felix wants to go for food; call you later?” you nodded. “Yeah, if you aren't getting your back blown out.” his face turned red. “He's in the room.” he gritted through his teeth. “hi yn.” you heard his deep voiced boyfriend shout. “Hi Felix.” you laughed. “I hate you so much.” jisung said, you laughed. “Love you too!” You waved goodbye, hanging up the phone.
You didn't bother getting yourself together; throwing on a pair of jean shorts and a tank top— they're your neighbors, the next time you'd see them is when you're dragging your exhausted body back into your home from your morning run, and that's even worse.
you made your way out of your house; knocking on the door of the house, your phone buzzing— jisung sending you a photo of his french cuisine. “lucky bitch.” you typed into your phone. “Bring me back a souvenir from paris.” you didn't bother to look up from your phone, so you didn't hear the door open. “Excuse me?”
The deep voice made you look up from your device; and it was like a god was standing right in front of you. “How can I help you?” he asked , you shook every dirty thought that ran through your head at that moment; putting your phone away. “O-oh sorry.” you chuckled. “I didn't hear the door open.”
The man was clearly at least a decade older than you; you could see the few gray hairs in his head— that didn't matter to you though. “I said how can I help you?” he said, his voice deep and sexy. “I'm yn, I live across the street.” you pointed. “my mother thought it would be a good idea to introduce myself so there wouldn't be any confusion this summer.” you said. “I just got home from college for summer break.”
“College?” He said, you nodded. “yup, my second year is done!” You chirped, this corner of his mouth curling into a smirk. “You won't be a problem right?” You were taken aback by the question, he chuckled. “Parties love, pretty girl like you; surely you're popular.” he said, but you stopped at him calling you pretty; smiling widely at him. “I won't have to worry about loud music and young adults passing out in your front yard right?” you could see his eyes wandering down; stopping right at your chest. “My wife hates the music you kids listen to.”
Right, his wife; he was married, the way he was practically trying to look through your shirt made you forget. “Oh no sir, most of my friends are on vacation.” he nodded. “im minho.” he held his hand out. “Well it's nice to meet you, yn.” he said, you nodded; your eyes scaling his body, much like he did to you; he was pretty fit for someone his age. “How old are you sir?” he raised his eyebrows; what an odd question. “34.” just around your age range. “and since we're asking those kinds of questions,” he said. “May I ask how old you are?” maybe it was a delusion, or maybe he actually was flirting with you— whatever it was, you liked it. “I'm 23 sir.”
“You're still pretty young,” he said; you tilted your head to the side, folding your arm with a frown. “but I am an adult.” you challenged; he nodded, clicking his tongue almost in an annoyed state; it made you smirked; you could read him like a book; he hated being challenged. “still a young girl in my eyes.” you wanted to roll your eyes, and he could see that; he could read you as much as you could him. “I have to get back to work now.” He said, you stepped back. “I'm sure you have things as well, whatever you little girls do these days.” he said, watching your jaw clench. “Remember, no loud crazy parties.”
“Can't promise that sir, it is summer.” was the last thing you said, before turning away; crossing the street, leaving him standing there, watching you go into the house; also getting a peek of your ass. He smirked, walking back into his house, closing the door. “Who was that?” He was quickly brought back to reality by his wife's voice. “at the door, who was it?”
“Oh the woman across the street.” he said walking straight past her into the kitchen. “What did she bring this time?” She followed behind him. “She's sent over 3 plates of cookies in the past month we've been here.” she said. “they aren't even that good; mines are way better.” minho rolled his eyes, they actually weren't, he knew the lady ran her own bakery and his wife barely knew the difference between melted and softened butter. “Of course they are honey.”
“So where are they?” she asked, searching for a plate. “The cookies.” She said, “Oh, you didn't let me finish.” Yeah he was being condescending, but his wife never noticed. “It wasn't her, it was her daughter,” he said, opening the fridge for water. “She's home from college.” He went to walk away, but his wife stood in front of him, her face in a frown. “how may I help you? I need to get back to work.”
“You are to stay away from that girl.” She said, he stared at her confused. “I mean it's not like I'm gonna ask her to come out and get beers with me, she's 23; we have nothing in common.” he said, trudging past his wife, making his way up the stairs. “She's a college student.” he said; very attractive but a college student nonetheless.
he made it back to his office, about to close the door and get back to work; when his wife burst in. “What is now?” He said sitting down. “The other wives.” she started. “They told me things about that girl.” She said, “like what?” He said; what could you have done to offend the housewives of the block. “Back talked to them in an argument; she's a young girl, they all do that.” he laughed, he could believe it; he witnessed it only a few minutes ago — except it turned him on.
he watched his wife scoff, he adjusted himself in his pants as she closed her eyes letting out a big sigh; he felt a rant coming on. “No, they told me she's been seducing their husbands since the day she turned 18.” He looked at his wife. “what?” he said. “Yeah, wearing tiny tiny clothes; flirting with their husbands, and her mother is none the wiser.” he shook his head. “Is she really seducing them, or is she a young pretty girl and they're just bitter miserable wives who can't control their husbands' wandering eyes?”
“Are you defending her?” he sighed, rubbing his temples; he didn't really want to have this conversation. “no I'm not honey, I'm just saying don't believe everything these housewives say.” He said. “yeah well I don't trust her, so stay away from her.” she said, he nodded; just ready to get her out of the room, he was busy; and not to mention his cock was hardening at the thought of you in one of those tiny tiny outfits the desperate housewives told his wife about. “yeah fine, I'll stay away from her.”
“Thank you.” she bent down kissing his forehead. “I love when you actually listen to me.” She said smugly as she walked out closing the door; it pissed him off, not like his banter with you— no that turned him on. “fuck.” he sighed doubling over , his cock throbbing in his pants, you were already driving him crazy.
You hadn't seen him much after that; only glimpses of him walking into his house with groceries, or getting into his car, and even then he looked good; making the spot in between your legs tingle — sure he was married, but it wasn't like you were doing anything wrong; what's wrong with a little fantasy inside your head, something to think about late at night when you had your hand down your sleep shorts, pretending it was him in between your legs, his hands instead of yours.
you did see his wife though, even though it was against your will every single time; and you hated it every single time, she ran the same route as you in the morning but at a later time; so when you were finishing your walk; she was just starting hers.
“Goodmorning.” Her smile was so fake as you slowed down , stopping in front of your mailbox. “How are you?” she yelled from across the street. “I’m fine.” You smiled , so desperate to get into the house; you were sweating and hungry— and you really didn't want to talk to this lady. “I'm good.” You said. “No plans this summer?” she asked. “Not really; most of my friends are back where I go to college.”
She then went on a rant of all the different jobs you could be doing. “Baby sitting, have you ever thought about that; of course you'd have to change your wardrobe a bit , it would be a bit inappropriate to wear some of the things you wear around kids wouldn't it?” this bitch was really working on your nerves. “If you have any kids , then I would be happy to watch them.”
“God no.” There he was again, walking out of the door. “No kids here,” he said. “We have our three cats and that's it.” his eyes scanning your outfit; your skin still glistening with sweat; he was seriously checking you out in front of his wife. “Well I love cats!” you jumped a bit; tits bouncing at the impact. “So cute.”
You knew what you were doing; and so did minho— his wife was quick to end the conversation between you too. “Well I'm sure you're busy, and it's time for my run.” she said. “And don't you have to feed the cats honey?” she said, turning to him, grabbing his arm. “what? oh yeah the cats.” He said. “yeah the cats , go feed them.” she said. “Okay baby.” he said; she turned to you smugly. “Well I better get going.” She said before she started down the street catching up with the other wives she ran with.
“Your wife doesn't like me very much.” He stopped; turning where you stood across the street, in a sports bra that held your tits perfectly; leggings that made your ass pop; and a smirk on your face— he so desperately wanted to fuck off. “I don't know she seemed to like you very much.” you knew he was joking. “it would be inappropriate to wear some of the things you wear, she basically called me a whore in housewives language.” You chuckled , folding your arms under your tits , forcefully pushing your boobs up. “don't worry, I don't care; the housewives on this block have said worse.”
“yeah like what?” he said , stuffing his hands into his pockets. “that I'm just a whore put on earth to seduce their husbands.” you said , a laugh following. “I'm not worried about their husbands, but I can't say the same for their husbands.” You shrugged. “oh really?” He said, you nodded. “but hey it's not my problem, they like to stare.” you shrugged, he did that sexy eyebrow raise again. “They do, don't they?”
Fuck you knew what you were doing; and not only did it piss him off, it fucking turned him on. “I can't say I don't like the attention though.” you said, watching him shift from side to side. “who wouldn't?” he had to get away before he came across the street and dragged you into his house; then he heard it, the meow of the cats. “oh shit.” he said, making you laugh. “time to feed the cats sir.” You waved. “Have a nice day.” you made your way into the house, making sure to sway your hips, giving him a good view of your ass.
“I'm telling you sung he wants to fuck me.” you said; your friend shook his head. “Wow, that took you not only a week.” He said. “He's married, no?” You shrugged. “and that's my problem?” You said. “I said he wants to fuck me, he knows he married.” Morally yes it was fucked up, but you didn't really care. “yeah but the wife already hates you, she finds out you want to fuck her husband.” he said. “you've never seen an episode of snapped? deadly women?” you shook your head. “i’d rather start the semester with you and not the memory of you.”
“How hot is he exactly?” you sent him a photo that you stole from his social media— yes you stalked him. “Oh wow.” he said. “yah.” You heard felix in the background. “Hey lix.” you said. “yn don't die trying to fuck a married man.” The blonde said. “I won't lix don't worry, don't kill my friend in milan.” you responded. “i can't promise you that if he doesn't stop looking at that fucking photo.” you laughed as he slapped the phone. “hey! let me talk to my friend in peace.”
“you want to fuck him too huh?” you heard him say. “no you know I only want to fuck you.” you shook your head. “i'm hanging up before I witness a live amateur porn.” you said. “Call me later.” You hung up. “Now what?” you said.
You decided to go sunbathing; finding your favorite bikini, grabbing your towel and sunscreen and favorite book. “Where's my daughter off now?” your mom said. “sunbathing.” you said grabbing some snacks. “In the front yard?” You nodded. “Have fun, I have work today.” you hummed, making your way outside, you set up your things right in front; taking your shirt off laying down on the towel , feeling the sun beaming down on you.
“Are you kidding me?” minho heard his wife's voice. “Is she serious right now?” He stood up from his office chair , making his way to their shared room, where his wife was standing in front of the window. “What's wrong now?” He said. “she's out there in a bikini and shorts; laying in the sun.”
“Okay?” He said, she scoffed. “Everyone can see her , what kind of slut wears that in front of her house.” she said, he made his way over to the window. “There's no one out there.” He said, she glared at him. “Move, I'm going to the grocery store.” she pushed past him. “You already went to the grocery store.” he said following behind. “this is for the barbeque.” she said. “What barbeque?” he said , they both made their way outside to the car. “I told you we're hosting the barbeque at our house.”
“seriously; we just moved here,” he said. “even more reason for us to do it.” she picked his lips. “Who's gonna be there?” he asked. “Everyone on the block.” he did not feel comfortable having all those people running in and out of his house, but his wife was dead set, so it was already set and stone. “Hello!” The couple turned their heads to the voice.
“I'm off.” your mom came out of the house. “Okay!” you said looking up from the book. “Oh there go the Lee's.” she said , you sat up watching the couple walk out of the house. “Hello!” your mom waved brightly at them. “Oh hello!” You covered your eyes from the sun. “Yn don't be rude, say hello.” Your mom said. “Hi.” you waved, his wife didn't say anything. “Hello yn.” he said, you smiled at the way he said your name. “Where are you two off to today?” your mom asked. “Oh just to get some things for the barbeque we're throwing for the block.”
“Oh that sounds fun!” your mom said. “you're welcome to come.” she turned to you; her smile was different towards you than your mother. “You to yn, you're both welcomed.” she said, the invitation mostly towards your mom. “Oh thank you, we'll be there.” the other woman nodded. “Great!” you and minho made eye contact , you smiled. “can't wait.”
It was finally the day of the barbeque; your mother forcing you across the street with the cookies in her hand. “You're not gonna rot in the bed today.” You groaned. “i don't want to be here with these people.” she ignored you, knocking on the door. “It's only for an hour.” she said. “you know that cute boy down the street, he'll be here.” she winked , you cringed. “Why do you keep trying to marry me off to him?” you said. “because you can't spend all your time with jisung, even he has a boyfriend.”
the door opened , minho stood there. “hello.” your mom held out the plate of cookies. “mhm , my favorite.” he smiled. “thank you.” he stood to the side. “Everyone is in the back,” he said. “Thank you for inviting us.” your mother said. “No problem, you've been so nice to us with these cookies ever since we moved here,” he said. “Me and my wife really enjoy them,” he said. “I'm glad , come by the shop and I'll give you some free cupcakes.” she said. “Thank you ma’am.”
You two made it to the back where everyone was. “There's seungmin over there.” your mom pointed. “go talk to him.” Minho watched you stomp over to the boy, your mom making her way over to a group of women; his eyes scanning your outfit, your mini skirt sitting right below your ass, the shirt you wore barely covering your plush boobs; fuck he just wanted to stick his cock in between them. “fuck.” he cursed.
“you okay man?” Chan, another neighbor, came up to him. “yeah I'm fine.” he said , not taking his eyes off of you. “I see you've met yn.” the older guy chuckled. “yeah I guess.” He said. “Listen, let me give you some advice.” Chan said. “fuck your wife.” Minho turned to him. “What?” he said, the Australian laughed. “I know what you're thinking; wife being a bit of a bitch, barely having sex.” He chuckled, that was exactly his story. “Here comes this young girl with a nice ass and a good pair of tits , batting her eyelashes, a bit of a brat?”
“You seem to know a lot.” He said. “because I was you, man.” Chris said, wrapping his arm around his shoulder. “But you know what I did? i went home and fucked my wife.” he said. “forgot all about it.” he said. “I'm telling you it's not worth it.” he said. “Fuck your wife.”
He knew Chan was right, but that didn't stop him from looking at you; his eyes meeting yours. you tilted your head to the side, your sultry smile as you say your goodbyes to seungmin, making your way over to him, he looked around making sure your mom or his wife wasn't paying attention , as you finally were standing in front of him. “Can I use your bathroom?”
He didn't have to follow you; he could've just given you the directions— but he really wasn't thinking; and he wished he would have been. “You have a nice home.” You said. “Thank you.” He said watching you purposely sway your hips side to side. “fuck.” he says to himself. “huh?” you asked , but you can hear him , he could see you smirking teasing him. “fucking brat.”
you definitely heard him this time, you laughed. “sir what's wrong?” you went to touch his shoulder in fake concern. He grabbed your wrist, pushing you against the wall. “fuck why couldn't you just stay away?” he growled. “Am I really to blame?” you took your other hand , traveling down to his waist. “Yn.” He weakly warned. “You can stop me if you want.” you said , your hand inching further— right to his cock, giving it a little squeeze. “fuck.” He groaned. “but I don't think you want me to.”
this was it; you finally were gonna get what you've wanted all this time; married or not you wanted his cock inside of you. “your wife doesn't have to know.” that's what set him off , grabbing the back of your head. “fuck shut up.” He said. “Get on your knees.” he said , roughly pushing you down. “you thought you were gonna get fucked didn't you?” you hissed as he yanked your hair. “too bad I'm just gonna stuff my cock down your throat and you're gonna take it like the little slut you are.”
he used his other hand to pull down his pants , freeing his cock from his underwear; his stock almost hitting you in your face. “you're so big” he hissed as you gave the tip of his cock a kiss. “yeah, want my cock down your throat.” He stroked his length in front of your face. “Fuck.” he slapped his cock on your lips. “open up.” he his tip against your lips. “fuck.”
He slowly pushed his cock into your mouth , holding your head still as he forced his cock down your throat. “shit your little throat taking my cock so good.” he hissed. “go-gonna fuck your face.” he moved his hips , holding the wall above your head, his balls slapping against your chin as he fucked your face in the middle of the hallway of the house he shared with his wife. “fuck I'm gonna cum.” he moaned. “fuck fuck fuck.” he thrusted a few more time , pulling out of your mouth , stroking his cock vigorously. “shit I'm cumming!” he shouted , his warm sticky cum shooting from his cock hitting your face. “Fuck.”
He looked down at your smiling cum covered face. “You tasted good.” you said wiping some off your cheek , putting your fingers to your mouth. You stood up , holding his cock in your hand, stroking it. “You came so much , it must've been a while.” he hissed. “sh-shit.” He said. “dont you want to fuck me?” He did, fuck he really did. “m-my wife.” he groaned. “outside.” you sighed, you forgot about the party. “I guess we'll have to wait.” you let his throbbing cock go. “Fuck I'm still hard.” he groaned.
You chuckled, wiping the rest of his cum off face. “thats too bad, I know you had a bunch of more cum for me.” he wanted to drag you up to his room and fuck you into the mattress, damned everyone in the back. “fucking brat.” he hissed, you kissed the corner of his mouth with a smile. “When does your wife leave for work?”
“11.” he said , you nodded. “I'll be here at one.” That's all you said before leaving him standing in the hall, guilt building in his stomach, not only did he just cheat on his wife— he knew he was gonna do it again.
he cleaned himself up; going back to the party. “Hey minho.” your mother came up to him. “Have you seen yn, she seemed to have escaped.” of he did. “um she said she wasn't feeling good so she headed home,” he said. “that girl, always something.” she shook his head. “What's wrong?” his wife came over. “oh nothing yn got sick and had to go home.” he could see his wife's smile, luckily your mom didn't see it. “Awe too bad.” she said. “I guess I better go see if she's okay, I had a nice time.” your mother said, before excusing herself.
“don't worry i didn't poison her.” she said, he stared at her. “laugh minho it's funny.” she kissed his lips before walking away, he made eye contact with Chan who gave him a nod— if only he knew it was too late for him.
He did completely ignore chris's word , as soon as the last person was gone, and the house was quiet and clean again; he brought his wife up to their room. “fuck minho!” his wife shouted as he fucked into her. “fuck faster.” he held her hips down as he plowed into her , wishing it was you that was under. “minho fuck!” his wife shouted into his ear. “Wait, don't go so fast.” she moaned, but all he could he do was imagine it was you , yelling for him to go faster , fuck you harder and faster. “Minho I'm cumming.” his wife shrieked. “fuck wait I'm not there yet.” he groaned, he knew once she was finished he wouldn't be able to continue. “fuck I'm cumming.” she shouted. “fuck I came Minho , pull out.”
he sighed, pulling out , laying on his back cock still hard. “fuck.” He cursed. “That was so good.” his wife laid breathless next to him. “But you were a bit too rough , next time don't go so hard.” He wasn't worried about that, he was too focused on his throbbing cock. “Hey, can you help me with this?” he said. “I can't tonight, I'm too tired and I have work in the morning.” she kissed his cheek. “I'm sure you can handle yourself.”
he watched her turn on her side, turning the light off leaving him in the dark , unable to sleep due to his cock. “fuck.” he cursed as he wrapped his hands around his length, thinking about how tight your throat felt around his cock , the way you gagged around his length; spit coming from your mouth, so messy. “fuck.” he moaned , cumming all over his hand to the thought of you.
he grabbed a tissue off the nightstand; wiping himself clean , throwing the tissue into the trash. He climbed back into the bed, pulling the covers over his body; his wife snoring beside him, he turned the light on his side off— he really tried to listen to what chan said, but he was far too gone.
he knew he was gonna fuck you when you came over tomorrow.
“Wait girl, did you really think this through?” jisung said. “I thought we were joking about this,” he said. “did you already fuck him?” he questioned. “not exactly.” you said. “what does that mean?” Felix said both of them invested now in their hotel room in Belgium. “I may or may not have given him head yesterday at the barbeque.” Both of their mouths dropped. “Are you kidding?” you shook your head. “oh my god yn you're insane.” jisung said. “How didn't his wife catch you?” you shrugged. “I don't know.”
“It's 11:30 now , are you gonna go?” felix asked, you looked at the clock. “maybe.” you said. “I know I really shouldn't support this.” jisung said. “but you're gonna do it anyway aren't you?” he asked. “i think his wife is leaving now , you got up looking out the window, sure enough she was walking to her car. “yeah it's her she's leaving now.” you spoke into the phone— fuck it. “I'm going.” you said. “Please don't get caught in his bed by his wife.” jisung said. “and don't get pregnant.” you hung up , getting dressed.
your mom had already left so you didn't have to explain to her why you suddenly were leaving; in the shortest skirt possible you might add, slipping on your shoes , opening the door to your house. you kept an eye for nosey housewives as you made your way across the street , knocking on the door; still keeping an eye out for people. the door opened up, revealing the man himself. “hi.”
before you could say something; he was dragging you into the house, closing the door, slamming you against it. “Jesus you're really eager aren't you?” you teased , he growled pressing you against the door. “I'm so fucking hard right now.” he said. “I can feel your cock throbbing , you're still thinking about my throat aren't you?” you squeezed his cock. “Is your wife not giving you head?” You pouted , “poor you.”
he was ready to take you against the door , but instead he forced himself away. “upstairs,” he said. “now.” you heard his commanding tone, he guided you to his room , slapping your ass, pushing the door open. “short fucking skirt , what's the point of it?” he growled , pulling you by the waist of the skirt, unbuttoning the button, pulling it down , leaving you in your panties. “take your shirt off.” you obeyed him , pulling the shirt over your head , he palmed his cock watching you undress.
“fuck get on the bed.” this was the bed he shared with his wife , but you could care less at this moment , spreading your legs for the older man , your wet cunt on display. “so fucking messy.” he pulled his pants down , revealing his underwear. “gonna use that cunt.”
he got on the bed , rubbing your clothed cunt. “fuck s-sir.” he smirked. “You like calling me sir.” he pulled your panties to the side, rubbing his cock along your folds. “You love cock that bad that you'd fuck anyone.” he groaned as he slid the tip of his cock in. “fuck a married man?” You moaned feeling his cock stretching you out. “pl-please fuck me.”
he fully bottomed out inside you. “fuck your pussy is so tight.” he groaned. “you-you're so big.” you moaned. “Please move.” you begged , he pulled out, before slamming back into you. “oh fuck!” you shrieked , clutching the bed sheets below you as he began to plow into you. “fuck I want you to cum all over my cock.” he hissed as you tightened around him. “fuck I'm gonna cum sir.” you moaned, your legs shaking. “fuck i'm cumming.”
a white ring formed around the base of his cock as he kept fucking into you. “gonna cover your pussy in my cum.” he hissed, his hand coming up to your boob to squeeze it. “fuck I'm gonna cum.” he cursed , pulling out cumming all over your cunt. “shit.” he tapped his cock on your cunt. “fuck, come here.”
he grabbed waist, flipping you over. “ass up.” he lifted your hips up; rubbing his cock along your folds. “You want my cock again?” you nodded. “Pl-please fuck me, want your cock sir.” he groaned. “yeah, want my cock?” he held the base of his cock coated with your juices, slapping your ass. “come on slut , fuck yourself on my cock.”
you pushed yourself back on his cock, both of you moaning out again. “that's it , stretch yourself out with my cock.” He groaned , grabbing your hip. “fuck i can't take it.” he pushed your head against the pillow , plowing into you. “fuck , that's it.” he groaned. “how does it feel being fucked past your limits by a married man?” he groaned. “so-so good.” your words barely audible due to your face being pushed against the pillow. “My wife lays her head right where you're drooling like a brain dead slut.”
you felt the knot in your stomach forming again. “You gonna cum again?” he said , his cock twitching. “ye-yes , please let me cum.” you begged. “no need to beg , I'm gonna let you cum slut.” he slapped your ass. “go ahead cum all over my cock.” your legs gave out as you cum , but he didn't stop , and you didn't want him to either. “fu-fuck I'm gonna cum.” he whimpered. “fuck.”
“i-inside.” You moaned. “fu-fuck I can't.” he groaned. “pl-please , cum inside me.” his hips twtiched as you tightened around him. “of fuck I'm cumming, gonna give you what you want.” he whispered in your ear , biting down on it as he came inside you. “fuck.” he drawed out as he came , his cum flooding your abused cunt. “shit.” he cursed, pulling , watching his cum leak out of you, it was probably the best thing he'd seen in a long time , he slapped your ass. “such a good pussy.”
“you don't feel guilty?” you asked , laying in his arms , it has been a while and it finally hit you while you laid in his arms , naked— in the bed he shared with his wife. “I guess,” he said. “what if we get caught?” you asked. “We won't.” he said. “She leaves everyday except for Sundays at 11.” he said. “she leaves; you come over and I take you on different surfaces of the house.” he bit your neck before kissing where he bit at. “she’ll be none the wiser.”
“And when I go back to school?” you didn't live far , but it was still a drive. “We'll figure it out , I'll drive the 2 hours if I have to.” he said. “you'd drive two hours there and back every weekend just to fuck me?”
he flipped you over , you yelp; feeling his cock against your folds. “fuck.” he cursed. “for this pussy?” he pushed his tip in. “fu-fuck yeah , I'd drive for it.”
“Now we still have 4 hours left and I want to spend as much time as I can inside this pretty cunt.”
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©️LUVYENI
689 notes · View notes
junkissed · 1 year
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leaning on the everlasting arms
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member — childhood best friend! pastor's son!joshua x f reader genre — angst, smut, some fluff, bible college au word count — 10.3k (my first fic over 10k wowie!!) synopsis — as kids growing up in the same church, you and joshua were inseperable, until you got to an age where it was considered immoral for girls and boys to be friends. when you find him again just before graduation, he's different than you remember; but so are you. content warnings — female reader, she/her, reader is implied to be smaller (i'm sorry), discussion of gender roles & religion, no religion is mentioned by name but it's heavily implied to be a form of christianity, reader & shua are both seniors in college, reader wears skirts/dresses but not really by choice, this whole thing is pretty blasphemous oops smut warnings — descriptions of female anatomy, virgin!joshua x virgin!reader, mutual masturbation, phone sex, unprotected sex, fingering, oral (reader receiving), hints of a voice kink, size kink, praise, begging, really vanilla missionary but it's hot, nicknames (sweetheart, baby, angel) notes — although i am no longer religious, this is partially based off of my own experiences with the extremely traditional christian church i was raised in. however, please keep in mind that this is fiction and does not reflect my beliefs nor joshua's beliefs so don't take the plot too seriously. this piece is not meant to discuss whether certain religions are "right" or "wrong" so please do not comment/send me asks trying to start a debate! we're all just here for a little sexy time with shua it's not that deep note #2 — for those who aren't familiar, the title is the name of a hymn and i thought it was funny bc joshua big sexy arms hehehe
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as far back as you could remember, joshua was your closest friend.
his father was the pastor of the church your family went to, and as luck would have it you were both in the same grade, so it wasn’t long before you became inseparable. you saw him at minimum three times a week: sunday morning, sunday evening, wednesday evening.
you spent most of your childhood together. sitting next to each other at every service, sharing your bibles with each other whenever one of you left them at home, sneaking donuts away from the box at the table outside the sermon hall that was supposed to only be for the adults.
you did everything together, and told each other everything. that is, until you reached middle school. boys and girls weren’t allowed to sit in the same services anymore, and you had to stay in separate buildings for every church camp and conference. 
the worst part was you didn’t even understand why. what did they think you were gonna do with him? kiss him? no amount of money in the world could get you to do that! joshua was your best friend. who else were you supposed to climb trees and build forts and sneak donuts with? kissing was stupid.
when you asked your mom about it, she told you the same thing everyone else did: about how men of god had a different path and needed to hear different messages in order to grow up to lead their own churches one day. you thought it was stupid. what if a woman wanted to lead a church, why are men the ones that have to do it? but she would just shake her head and tell you it's just the way things work in the church, you'll understand when you're older.
you were allowed near him less and less until the only time you were able to see him was at the after-service brunch with his family, and even then that began to happen less and less as the years went on.
and of course it was church rules, so there was no arguing with them because that would mean arguing with god, and who were you to question his authority? there would be no special exception for you, no matter how much you protested to your mom that you would never, ever think about joshua like that. in a fit of anger one day you blew up at her, shouting that she had had friends of the opposite gender when she was in high school, so why couldn’t you? it wasn’t fair. but she had just sighed and stared out the window, clearly ending the conversation. many years passed before she finally told you about her life before she came to church, recalling all the times she had been hurt by men she had loved and trusted. you understood then why she had wanted to keep you sheltered and safe, but you still didn’t agree. but then again, if you had been allowed to do what you wanted then maybe things would never have ended up the way they did. perhaps you have her to thank.
back then, all you could do was hold on to the little time you had with him until eventually you stopped seeing him altogether. 
more summers passed and you started spending all of your time memorizing bible verses with your fellow “women of christ”, missing the way you used to spend your time with your best friend.
but then you went off to bible college like had always been planned for you, and everything changed. instead of continuing to follow the strict schedule that was laid out for you, you finally got a little taste of freedom, and you realized what you’d been missing all this time. everything that you’d been taught was sinful, evil, wicked, was what brought you more pleasure than you’d ever known was possible.
you still had to pretend to be a good girl for the people around you, who, for reasons you couldn’t comprehend, were still dedicated to their life of purity. or at least they acted like it. maybe everyone was secretly just like you, hiding their sins behind a friendly smile and a firm handshake every sunday morning.
you weren’t hurting anyone with the things you did in private, and the feeling of rebellion was a kind of satisfaction you didn’t know you were allowed to feel. you were an adult, making your own choices now and facing whatever consequences that came with them.
there was only one consequence. for some reason, all the impure thoughts you had always centered around joshua. no matter what dirty books you read or videos you watched, the man you always pictured giving it to you was joshua.
you hated that after all these years, everything still came back to him. you fought it, tried imagining actors or celebrities in his place instead; characters from your books and movies and shows, anyone but him. you wanted to save whatever memories you had left of him, think of him in a good light like you used to when you were younger, but the way he plagued your mind was worse than the ones in the book of exodus.
but now, in your final year of college, you thought you had finally gotten yourself under control.
that is, until you were leaving one of your bible lectures and all the control you’d convinced yourself that you had crumbled away in mere seconds when you saw a startlingly familiar face standing by the door. a face you hadn’t seen in far too long. 
“joshua?”
“hey,” he says with a smile, like no time has passed at all. like it’s been hours since you’ve seen each other, not years. 
there are so many things you want to say, so many things you want to ask him, but you’re frozen in place. why is he here? where has he been? how did he find you again?
“it’s been a while,” he says with an awkward laugh when you don’t say anything.
you nod, still in a daze. “yeah. quite a while.”
he smiles. “well, anyway, i’ve got a meeting to go to in a bit, but… i just wanted to see you.”
“oh,” you say. what else is there to say? what can you say to make up for the years lost that you’ll never get back?
he looks at his watch, the conversation clearly coming to an end.
“can i give you my phone number?” he says. a deep shade of pink creeps into his cheeks but he either doesn’t notice or purposely doesn’t acknowledge it. “maybe we can talk sometime, catch up.”
“i– yeah,” you manage. god, it’s so good seeing him again. “yeah, that would be really nice.”
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you’ve given up on homework for the night, spending your entire afternoon in a daze since you ran into joshua.
so many years, yet you still can’t get his smile out of your head.
you close your eyes, hand dipping below the waistband of your pajama pants automatically. it’s frightening how easily you’re able to bring up a picture of him in your mind, so much clearer than before now that you’ve seen what he looks like all grown up.
and grown up, he has. you had been too stunned to get a good look at him while he was in front of you, but the way he’d changed was immediately apparent and the image in your brain now feels almost unreal. 
his hair was a little longer and a little darker, and he was much taller, with broad shoulders that looked way too perfect in a suit jacket. but his face hadn’t changed a bit. maybe his jaw was a little bit sharper and his smile lines were a little bit deeper, but his eyes were the same ones you had always known. 
your hand slips lower and lower until you’re gently running the tips of your fingers over the panel of your underwear covering your pussy, moaning quietly when you feel how wet you are already.
no wonder it’s been so hard for you to focus all day. you’ve been too busy pushing away thoughts of joshua burying his fingers in your tight, wet cunt, cooing about how good you’re being for him and how long he’s waited for you.
automatically you feel your other hand grabbing for your phone, desperate to hear his voice again. you hadn’t said more than a few sentences to him earlier, but you feel like you’ll go crazy if you don’t hear him while you’re in this state. so needy for him and only him, and he doesn’t even know it.
your fingers shake as you press the buttons, knowing you’re about to get yourself into a whole world of trouble but not being able to stop yourself.
“hey.” he answers on the second ring. his tone is deep and husky, and your breath catches in your throat for a second, not used to hearing him talk like that; the last time you heard his voice was long before puberty, and you’re still navigating how to talk to this older, sexier joshua.
your first thought is to wonder if his morning voice sounds equally as sexy, but you’re immediately pushing it out of your head when you hear what sounds like him stifling a yawn.
“sorry, did i wake you? it– it’s not important,” you start, ashamed of how needy you are that you’d call him in the middle of the damn night, unprovoked, like some kind of bible group booty call.
the regret is already starting to set in. he probably hasn’t changed as much as you've built him up in your mind, probably still the obedient gentleman he was before. he’s probably already well on his way to being the head of a church, so of course he wouldn’t be thinking about you like that—
“no. it’s fine,” he says, interrupting your thoughts. “always have time for you, sweetheart. what’s up?”
you shove down the butterflies that flutter up in your stomach at the name he calls you, a nickname he always called you when you were kids because he was taught it was always polite to talk sweet to a lady. 
except it feels so much different now. talking sweet to a lady as kids was easy, innocent. but one wrong word now would completely change the meaning behind those pretty words of his, and you aren’t sure how to feel about it.
“i… just– it’s been so long, joshie,” you whisper, surprised at the sudden feeling of tears springing up behind your eyes. you didn’t mean for this to happen— you didn’t mean for any of it to happen. not back then, and certainly not now.
he lets the line go quiet, finally sighing into the phone after a long pause. “i missed you… so much.” he murmurs your name, and the way the rumble in his voice goes straight through you immediately reminds you why you called him in the first place.
your free hand toys with the hem of your underwear again, fighting to keep down the whimper that threatens to escape you. “missed you too,” you breathe out. god, you can’t believe you’re doing this. but for the first time in years, the man you’ve been picturing in your head is right here with you, fulfilling some of your fantasies that you never thought could ever come true.
somewhere deep in your stomach you feel guilty about it, getting off to the thought of him and he doesn’t even know it. would he want to know? would he be okay with it? would he hate you forever if he knew?
he clears his throat, snapping you back to attention and you realize you must’ve been silent for a while, thinking.
“um, so, what are you doing?” you ask, trying to seem casual, but it comes out as anything but. nobody calls anyone this late at night and asks what they’re doing without having a dirty reason for doing so. 
all you can do is hope he’s either too innocent to pick up on it, or that he doesn’t believe you’re the type of person who would call for something like that. you wonder if he still thinks of you as that perfect little obedient church girl he grew up with.
“nothing, just–working on… stuff,” he replies awkwardly. clearly he doesn’t want to go into detail about what he’s doing, and you’re already afraid you’ve interrupted his sleep; you’re mentally kicking yourself for all the blunders you’ve made, and you haven’t even been on the phone for five minutes.
“what are you doing?” he asks back, and you freeze, trying to come up with some excuse, anything. fuck, think of something!
“h-homework,” you sputter out, attempting to hide your unconfident answer with a cough.
apparently it works, because he hums in response, the line falling quiet. you hear the rustling of papers on his end, and you press your fingers harder against your cunt, heartbeat racing in your ears.
your fingers brush against your clit a little rougher than you intend, and a little whine escapes your lips, catching you off guard. you slap a hand over your mouth, hoping it had been too quiet for him to hear and he hadn’t been paying attention.
“are you…?” he asks suddenly, and your cheeks flush, caught red-handed in your sinful act.
you clear your throat, praying (both metaphorically and literally) that he doesn’t notice anything off about you. “am i what?”
his silence on the other end of the phone speaks volumes.
“joshua, oh my god, no, i–”
“what did you just say?”
you freeze. “what… did i say?”
when he speaks again, his tone is even. “don’t you know it’s a sin to take the lord’s name in vain, sweetheart?”
that nickname again, and now you know he’s doing it on purpose. innocent, pretty words, completely changed in a split second.
you let out a short laugh, scrambling to find a cover. “must’ve forgot then.”
he hums. “i remember you spent a whole month trying to memorize the ten commandments. we must’ve been what, eight or nine? you wouldn’t have forgotten. i may not have seen you since we were kids, but i’ve still known you most of my life.”
“it was an accident, you know how it is. just slips out. of course i remember them all.”
he tsks, and it feels like your heart stops. “did you forget that lying is a sin, too? you’re two for two now, wanna try for a third?”
damn him! damn his good memory and damn his stupid witty comebacks and damn the way he so quickly manages to unravel you.
you scowl and don’t respond to his question, your silence enough of an answer for joshua to know he’s right.
“why did you call me tonight?” he asks calmly.
you answer truthfully this time. “just wanted to hear your voice again. i really did miss you.”
the phone goes quiet again, and for a second you’re afraid he’s hung up, but then you hear him exhale. “it’s late. what are you doing?”
“i’m in bed, josh. don’t worry, father, i’m not staying up past my bedtime.”
he chooses to ignore your remark. “in bed doing what?”
you give him a half-suppressed laugh. “in bed laying down. what else would i be doing?”
“well, with the way you were trying to hide your moans earlier, i would’ve figured you were doing something more exciting. but if you’re just laying down, then i don't want to keep you long, might as well hang up…”
“no!” you squeak out, cutting him off. you swallow, trying to collect yourself as you repeat the word. “no. fine, whatever, you caught me. but– please, stay.” you can hear the plea in your voice and you know you should be embarrassed at how pathetic you sound, but you aren't. the only thing you can think about is joshua, joshua, joshua, and how good it feels to talk to him again.
“i’m here,” he says softly, and you let your eyes close with a sigh, relieved he’s not going to chastise you. but as much as you’ve both changed as you grew up, deep down you knew he wouldn’t. you figure you could do just about anything and he wouldn’t try to tell you what to do. he’d always been like that, and it’s what you’d loved about him; he never tried to control you or shame you for not acting like the perfect little angel everybody wanted you to be. 
you couldn’t say the same about others in the church. maybe that’s why you’d started to drift away from them and why joshua’s friendship coming to an end had left you so devastated. he had been the one and only person you could always count on, and they had not.
“are you still there?” he asks gently, and you realize you’ve been quiet for too long thinking.
“yeah,” you say finally.
“are you still touching yourself?”
you pause, stifling a gasp, taken aback by his forwardness. hearing him say it out loud made everything seem so real, the realization setting in about what you’re actually doing. “n– no.”
and it’s true. your hand has long since dropped away from your pajama pants, too nervous about being discovered to continue.
“well, why not?” he says. “don’t stop on my account.”
your mouth falls open. “i–”
“clearly you wanted something from me when you called. what is it, sweetheart? i can’t help you if i don’t know what it is you want.”
your brain practically short circuits at that, and it takes a very long minute for you to collect your thoughts into a coherent sentence. you want a lot of things, but you don’t know what’s okay to say or not or if he even wants to keep going. which is a silly thought, because he wouldn’t have asked if he didn’t want to know. it dawns on you that maybe… maybe he’s curious, maybe he’s thinking about you, too.
“what kind of help?” you ask, still testing the waters. you think you have an idea of what he means, but you ask anyway. you’ve never done anything like this with anyone else, only by yourself; not because you didn’t want to, but because you didn’t want it to be with someone who wasn’t joshua.
“you said you wanted to hear my voice,” he says, and you swear his tone has dropped an octave. “then let me talk to you.”
you whine a little, still holding back but not putting in as much effort to hide it. “m’kay.”
“would it make you feel better if i told you i’m hard right now?”
you suck in a breath. “yeah?”
“yeah,” he says. “just thinking about you.”
you feel a rush of emotion at his admittance. pride? satisfaction? whatever it is, it makes your cunt throb, knowing that just the thought of you can get him going.
finally you dare to slide your hand down your pants again, unsurprised when you find your underwear sticking to you with how wet you are. you’re soaking, and you haven’t even done anything yet.
“hold on,” you manage, putting the call on speaker as you set your phone on the table beside your bed, scrambling to shove your pants and ruined panties off and onto the floor.
once free, you pick up your phone and turn off the speaker, holding it to your ear with shaky hands.
“all ready now?” he asks softly, and it reminds you of what he used to say before you’d play pretend games together. always making sure you were ready. he was hot back then, too, and you mentally curse yourself for never realizing it sooner.
you hum. “mhm. comfortable.”
“good,” he says, and you can almost hear him smiling. “go ahead and do whatever you’d like. but i want you to tell me what you’re thinking about right now.”
you squirm a little on the bed as you start to circle your clit with your fingers. “thinking about you, joshua,” you sigh, finally beginning to feel relief.
“yeah?”
“yeah. you look even better than i thought you would,” you groan, picking up your pace a little as you slip your index finger inside your walls.
he chuckles. “oh, really?”
“mhm. god, i never thought i’d be doing this. especially not with you.”
“and why is that, baby?”
the name makes you shiver. you’d imagined him calling you it many times, but hearing him actually say it is completely different.
“because—” you whimper, losing your train of thought when your brain suddenly pictures his fingers inside you instead of your own. “i’m so close already, please—”
his tone is gentle but firm. “i want you to stop now.”
“but– ah, feels so good, shua,” you say, moans spilling out of you, finally letting him hear everything you’ve been holding back.
you hear him curse in that low voice through the phone, and your hand stills for a split second in shock, your eyes widening. as far as you knew, he never swore. but then again, there were a lot of things he never did that you're discovering about him now. looks like you weren’t the only one who changed over the years.
“that’s not my name.”
you sit up a little in confusion, pushing your phone closer to your ear to make sure you’re hearing him right. “huh?”
“my name is joshua. if you’re gonna moan like a sinner about how good it feels when i tell you how to touch yourself, you better use my name properly.” he sounds almost angry, but it only spurs you on even further.
you let his words sink for a second before responding. “yes, sir.”
“fuck,” he moans, he actually moans, and if you weren’t already so far gone you would’ve stopped to listen closer, to ingrain the noise in your brain so you never again forget how he sounds. “what did i just tell you?”
“what, you don’t like being called ‘sir’? thought you wanted to be a pastor, joshua,” you say with a smirk, and you know he hears the mischief in your voice, daring him to give you what you want.
it’s probably a good thing he’s not physically in the room with you, because there's no way you would have been able to muster up the courage to say something like that to his face. you wouldn’t have dared to even look him in the eyes, but being on the phone gives you a head rush. because with only his voice and not seeing his face, you can convince yourself that he still isn’t real, that this whole phone call and even your meeting earlier had just been an elaborate figment of your horny imagination, your denial being the only thing saving your last shred of dignity.
“didn’t realize you’d grow up to be even more of a brat than you were before,” he scoffs, and your cunt pulses. 
“what are you doing right now?” you say, a little desperately. the change of subject isn’t very subtle but you don’t care. you won’t lie, you’ve been curious since the start of what he’s doing but he’s been so focused on you he hasn’t said anything about himself. you want to know everything about him— how he’s moving his hands, where he puts pressure, what he thinks about to get himself closer and closer.
he grunts unceremoniously. “i’m fucking my hand and pretending it’s you.”
“me too,” you whimper, closing your eyes as you focus on the movement of your fingers.
after a while he stops responding, and you can hear his heavy breaths over the line matching with your own gasps for air as you curl your fingers inside of you. you figure he must be getting close, but you ask him anyway, because you want to hear him say it.
“yeah– fuck, so close,” he chokes out, and the way his voice gets higher as he lets out a whimper is what finally makes you come undone.
with a moan of his name—his full name—you cum, clenching around your fingers as you struggle to keep your hand moving. your wrist is starting to cramp up a little from the position you’ve been in, but the pleasure coursing through you is more than worth it. it’s almost dizzying, more powerful than any orgasm you’ve had before and when you finally remove your fingers from your aching cunt your head is spinning and your heart is pounding.
you can hear a muffled string of curses through the phone and you know he’s right behind you. thoughts of him sitting on his bed run rampant in your head, imagining his stomach covered in milky cum and his pretty, pretty lips parted as he catches his breath.
the silence is heavy as you feel yourself come back down from your high. you struggle to find something to say after… whatever that just was, so you say the only thing that’s on your mind.
“i really did miss you, joshua,” you say quietly. unlike before, there’s not a hint of teasing in the way you say his name now.
and he sighs contentedly, finally hearing his name on your lips like he always wanted to. “i know. i missed you too.”
you both say your goodbyes and good nights quickly, still basking in enough of the remnants of your orgasms to not be too awkward about it. but after you’re settled in bed (for real, this time) and about to fall asleep, you can’t help but wonder if things between you and joshua will ever be anything but awkward.
a memory surfaces: you and joshua running around at the park behind the church after a sunday evening service, no older than kindergarteners, laughing and playing until you collapse on the grass. your mom called for you both to get ready to go home, and no you’re not allowed to have a sleepover because it’s a school night but maybe this weekend if his mom is okay with it. before you ran off, he thrust his pinky out towards you and you shook on it, making a pact to always be best friends, even when you can’t have sleepovers. it didn’t ever occur to either of you that there might come a day where you wouldn’t be best friends.
you don’t remember what prompted him to make the pinky promise, but you know he’s never broken it. and you can only hope that he hasn’t forgotten it.
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it’s a few days later at one of your bible study groups when you see him next, and yet again you’re caught off-guard like a deer in headlights.
you’re sitting with a group of other ladies, annotating material for a test you couldn’t care less about when you hear your name called out– a familiar deep voice you can only pray doesn’t belong to who you think it belongs to.
oh, but it does belong to him, alright. it feels like you’ve gotten the wind knocked out of you when you turn around and see joshua standing behind you, a warm smile on his face that makes you doubt anything ever happened. maybe it really was all just a delirious dream, too many years of yearning built up into one intense wet dream.
he puts a hand on your shoulder lightly, turning you away from the rest of the ladies. “hey, can we talk somewhere?”
and oh shit it was definitely not a dream.
your cheeks burn as you excuse yourself from the table, packing up your bible and pens and shoving everything in your bag as quickly as you can. you can almost hear the snickering already, the gossips whispering to each other that you must have done something unspeakable if the top-student, pastor’s son, joshua hong has to speak with you privately. ah, if only they knew.
you only wish you could go back there and wipe the smirks off of all their faces and tell them about what the perfect little gentlemen they all pretend they don’t have crushes on was doing on the phone with you last night. you wouldn’t do that, not in a million years, but just the thought of it is satisfaction enough. 
joshua leads you down the hall to a room that looks like an empty office. he opens the door for you, then closes it softly behind you.
“whose is this?” you ask, glancing around the room. 
“it’s… mine,” he says almost shyly, gesturing idly to a little engraved nameplate on the desk. joshua hong, pastor’s assistant. because of fucking course he would be.
“oh.”
he clears his throat, and in that moment you realize he’s just as nervous as you are. “listen…” he starts, taking a pause. “about the other night–”
“are you gonna kick me out?” you interrupt.
his brows knit together in confusion. “what?”
“are you gonna expel me?”
“no?” he says, still looking at you, baffled. “why would i do that? i don’t even think i have the power to, even if i wanted. which, for the record, i don’t.”
you don’t reply, focusing your gaze on the carpet instead.
he frowns. “is that really how you think of me? that i just go around tattling to my dad? from that… conversation, i thought it was clear i’m not like that anymore.”
the tips of your ears are burning at the memory of all the things you said to each other over the phone. but it never occurred to you that maybe he was just as sinful as you had been.
you stay quiet, the silence stretching on as shame and embarrassment and a hundred other emotions swirl in your mind and you struggle to figure out what to say.
luckily for you he fills the silence himself. he exhales, looking down at a stack of papers on the desk. “god, you… you don’t know how much i missed you. i thought about you all the time.”
“so did i,” you manage to whisper. “in more ways than you know.”
he gives you a teasing smile. “oh, i have a feeling i do know.”
you hold back a cough and look away, focusing your attention on a painting of flowers on the wall. “i don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“if that’s how you wanna play this, fine.”
your curiosity piques, and you look back at him. he motions to the seat in front of the desk, wordlessly asking you to sit. hesitantly you do, and he starts to sit down at the swivel chair behind the desk, but you clear your throat and he glances up.
“can– can you not sit over there?” you ask softly. “feels like i’m being scolded.”
his expression softens a little, and he rolls the chair back into place, opting to sit next to you instead. “of course.”
except maybe you shouldn’t have asked him to do that, because now he’s sitting toe to toe with you and the closeness is overwhelming. at least on the other side of the desk there was enough distance for you to shrink and hide behind, but here, sitting like this, he can see all of you. and you don’t particularly want to be seen right now.
the tension is palpable as he takes his seat, still watching you. you take the moment to study his features: the slope of his nose and the gentle curve of his lips, the way the light catches on his long eyelashes and the way his broad shoulders look in that perfectly tailored sunday morning service suit.
“i always liked you,” he starts, and your gaze shoots up to his eyes. you open your mouth to ask something, but he shakes his head and you immediately fall silent, letting him finish. “i was almost glad when they made us go to different sunday school classes, because i wouldn’t have to sit there and pretend i didn’t have the craziest crush on you.”
“joshua, i–” you trail off, not even knowing what to say.
he pauses, as if debating his next words. “and i know it’s wrong, but i couldn’t get you out of my head when i… y’know.” his cheeks are flushed but he doesn’t look away from you, eyes searching your own for any hesitance or any sign that you don’t want this.
it’s then that you realize that the boldness you had felt hiding behind your phone, he had felt it too. saying words alone in your room at night was easy. sitting in public, in the daylight, and saying those same words to his face was so much scarier. and knowing that you’re both feeling awkward and shy and a little uncertain of how to talk about it gives you the confidence to keep going.
“when you would what?” you pry. you already know the answer but you want to hear it come out of his mouth anyway. you’ve already heard him say it, but something about sitting in his office, in a church, speaking such filth ignites a spark in you that’s completely different from the spark you felt a few nights ago.
he clears his throat and looks you in the eye, maybe gaining a little bit of that confidence, too. “when i would jerk off i would always wish it was your sweet little mouth instead of my own hand.”
you inhale sharply, and that’s when he finally breaks eye contact, his guilt-ridden gaze shifting to the wall behind you as his cheeks burn redder. “i didn’t feel good about it. felt like i was doing it without your permission, and i didn’t want that. i–”
“yes,” you say hurriedly.
he stops short at your interruption, instantly looking back at you. “yes…?”
“yes, you have my permission. whatever you want, joshua, always.”
his eyes narrow, almost imperceptibly, but you recognize it. even after all these years, after so much has changed, you still know his tells. you wonder if he still knows yours.
he murmurs your name in response, almost like a warning. “don’t say stuff like that,” he says, letting out a shaky breath.
“why not?” you ask, feigning innocence. but you know exactly what you’re doing, and you know exactly how you affect him: the same way he affects you.
he looks up at you. “you really are just as much of a brat as you were back then, aren’t you?” he says with just a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
“why don’t you find out?”
he groans, leaning back in his chair. “do you know how long i’ve wanted to kiss you?” he says finally.
“probably just as long as i’ve wanted to kiss you,” you counter, and he raises an eyebrow.
you both stand up at the same moment, closing the distance in less than a second. 
you stare at his chest in front of you to avoid his eyes, until he brings up a hand and gently tilts your chin, forcing you to look at him.
“are– you gonna get in trouble?” you breathe, heartbeat pounding in your ears as you stare at his perfect, perfect lips.
he hums, and it sends a shiver down your spine at the close proximity. “are you still giving me permission?” he asks, and you quickly shake your head yes. 
“always.”
he smooths his thumb across your cheek. “then i won’t be in any trouble at all."
and then his hand moves to hold the back of your neck and he's tilting his head and bringing his lips towards yours and then finally, after years of dreaming about it and even more years of denying it, you're finally kissing joshua and there's so many things happening at once that you can't seem to focus on anything because your mind is so full of everything and nothing and joshua and it all just feels so right.
you’re melting in his arms and falling into his touch and enjoying every fucking second of it. your heart speeds up when his hands slide behind your back, wrapping around your body to pull you closer to him, pressed chest to chest.
he pulls away to kiss you again, and again, and again, and you decide you’d be content to be like this forever, standing in his office in the church building making out like you’re the only two people on earth. 
but finally his lips leave yours, and he takes a tiny step backwards, heaving out a shaky breath as he looks you in the eyes. “what are we gonna do now?”
your heart plummets, doubts racing through your mind. did he not like it? does he not like you? did you really just ruin everything? why did he stop? why did he ask that—
but all your questions are answered in an instant when he coughs and you look down, finally noticing the prominent bulge in his dress pants. oh. that.
when you look back up at him his cheeks are flushed bright red, and he immediately begins to apologize.
“shua,” you call out to him, repeating his name the way you know he likes. “joshua. don’t worry about it. it’s fine.”
in fact, you find it incredibly flattering, that just a few kisses and gentle touches could get him this worked up. maybe it really has been you all along.
with a surge of confidence, you step back towards him, wrapping your arms around him and leaning to kiss him. “are you busy today?” you murmur, your cheek brushing against his.
he shudders, hands automatically finding your waist and pushing your hips against his own. “no. are you?”
you sigh, kissing the corner of his mouth. “not anymore.”
“fuck,” he curses, his grip on your body tightening “you really want to…?” he asks, almost shyly, as if he’s in denial this is really happening.
“absolutely,” you say, and you’ve never meant anything more in your life.
in a second he’s got you shoved against his desk, sending papers flying to the floor as he lifts you by your ass to sit you down on top of it. your kisses turn rougher and needier, your hands grabbing at anything you can reach to ground yourself: his hair, his shoulders, his back.
finally he breaks free, dropping to his knees in front of the desk. “please, let me eat you out.”
you moan out loud, probably too loudly for the thin walls of the office. but the visual of him on his knees to do anything other than pray drives you mad, and you need more of him, desperately. “joshua, please.”
he pushes your skirt up your thighs, moving it out of his way so he can stare eye to eye with your pussy. you whimper and instinctively try to hide your face in embarrassment, but something tells you he wouldn’t like that, so you resist, keeping your hands firmly planted on the edge of the desk.
“fuck, you’re soaking,” he says, his voice broken. “you’re so perfect.”
his hands reach up to tug at the hem of your underwear, and he looks up at you, silently asking for permission to continue. you nod eagerly, lifting your hips off the desk so he can slide them off of you, revealing your glistening entrance.
he whines at the sight, pretty lips parted in shock? awe? as if he can’t wait to taste you. he pushes his face into your pussy, gently at first, but when you moan and bring your hand up to his hair he dives deeper.
the moment he attaches his mouth to your clit, you jump, gasping as you try to shut your legs around his head but his large hands keep you held open. his tongue explores every inch of you, moving back and forth, up and down, mapping out your cunt with his mouth. 
“fuck, never dreamed you’d taste so good,” he sighs against your pussy, leaning away to take a breath after what feels like forever.
your legs are shaking and your cunt is throbbing as you also try to catch your breath. you’re not used to being touched like this and you’re definitely not used to being touched by joshua. so many thoughts running through your head and not a single one of them coherent enough to put into words. all you can do is weakly whine out joshua’s name and tug on his hair, pleading for him to keep going. you need release, and you don’t want it from anyone but him.
he stands up, his pants wrinkled from kneeling on the floor but still tented with a bulge so uncomfortably large you feel dizzy just thinking about it. you don’t even know if he’s going to fuck you or even if he wants to, but god you want to see his cock so bad. too many restless nights spent thinking about it, and now you might finally have the chance to see it in front of your face.
your mouth waters at the thought, and you start to slide off the desk, but joshua stops you. “what are you…?”
you look up at him, eyes blown wide with lust and you don’t even attempt to hide your eagerness. “please let me suck your dick. joshua, please.”
he whines, running a hand through his hair. “god, i want that so bad, but… i don’t think i can last if you do, and i was really hoping to fuck you.”
you close your eyes and roll your head back, moaning at his vulgar confession. but he sighs, and he sounds almost defeated, and you look back at him quickly, afraid he’s suddenly changed his mind.
“i’m not—prepared,” he admits, and you tilt your head in confusion before it sinks in what he means.
“ah. don’t suppose you would have any condoms lying around, would you, mr. pastor’s assistant?” you ask playfully, and he shoots you a glare.
“brat,” he mutters under his breath, but you hear it, and your walls clench in response. “no, i don’t have any. not interested in anybody else, so… no reason to.” he looks like he has more to say, more serious things to say, but he keeps his mouth shut, his eyes searching your face nervously.
your stomach flips at his words, feeling your cheeks heating up. you hadn’t thought you would ever get this far, and especially not with him. because of the kind of school you were at, it wasn’t like the people here were doing the kind of things you’ve been doing—at least not publicly. even if you’d wanted to hook up with somebody (which you didn’t), everyone in your vicinity would shame you for even bringing it up. you may have experience with yourself, but anything with anyone else is completely new territory for you.
you fall silent, not sure how to continue the conversation as all your newfound confidence begins to crumble. what were you thinking? caught up in the heat of the moment, saying things you weren’t sure you meant. you were in love with him: that much you were sure of. but everything that comes after that is too new, too scary, at least for right now. you can barely even comprehend that he just went down on you, but you know you enjoyed it and honestly, you’d give anything for him to do it again. but there’s too much going on inside your head for you to even begin to process that right now.
he calls your name and you blink, looking back at him anxiously. “we… don’t have to. right now, or even at all,” he says gently. the tips of his ears are burning red but his voice is calm and steady.
“joshua, i want to,” you start, clasping your hands tightly together in your lap to give you something to focus on other than the way he’s watching you so intently. “but i– don’t know how.”
“neither do i, baby,” he says. the nickname makes you shiver; even though it’s not the first time he’s called you that, especially after the other night, you’re still not used to it. but somehow it’s comforting, and it makes you relax knowing that he’s still the same person you grew up with, the same person that knows almost everything about you. you’ve both changed so much, but deep down you haven’t changed at all.
he pauses when you don’t say anything back. “we’ll wait, then,” he says and wraps his arms around you, lightly at first but then squeezing when you don’t try to pull away. “we have all the time in the world. no need to rush.”
“we… do?” your voice is laced with uncertainty.
he smiles. “of course. i let you go once already, i’m not letting it happen again. never again.”
you turn your head away from him and hide your face, flustered by how sincere he sounds. he hums, and you can hear the pout in his tone so you fight your embarrassment and turn back towards him to ask the question that’s been weighing on your mind since you first saw him days ago. “this is gonna sound so stupid, but… shua, what are we?”
first you were childhood friends, you were best friends, and then you were nothing. right place, wrong time? and then you were… doing something on the phone together, whatever you could call that. and now you were just sitting on top of his desk, sweating from having almost had sex. how do you even begin to put a label on this?
“well, i’d like to be yours,” he says shyly, and just like that all your questions are answered with six small words. you realize it doesn’t matter what label you have; as long as you have him, that’s all that matters.
“yes,” you breathe, lifting your eyes to finally meet his and you see all the love in his eyes threatening to spill over.
he reaches up to brush a piece of your hair out of your face. “i’m just glad i finally have you back,” he says with a soft smile as he watches you. “we’ll go slow, we’ll wait— whatever you want. whatever it takes not to lose you again.”
you bury your face in his chest with a whine. you’re hiding again, but even the uncomfortable scratchiness of his dress shirt can’t pull you away from him.
“besides, i don’t want our first time together to be in my stupid little office,” he chuckles and holds you tighter against him, pressing a kiss to the top of your head that makes your heart flutter. “you deserve better than that.”
you stay there for a long moment, hugging him like it's the last time you'll ever see him. but this time you know it won't be the last. it's the first, the first of hopefully many, many more.
when you feel like you've been standing there too long, you clear your throat and lean your head back to look at him. "so, um… now what?"
he pauses, those pretty lips turned up in a smile. "do you have plans for lunch?"
"no, i just had that study group you pulled me from. i'm free for the rest of the day."
his smile widens. "perfect. you still like grilled cheese, or did you grow out of that, too?"
you laugh, putting your chin on his shoulder as you hug him. "i haven't changed that much, shua."
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after taking a while to collect yourselves (waiting for his erection to go back down so you can leave together without looking suspicious), you walk out of joshua’s office the happiest you've felt in years.
he'd wanted to hold your hand, too, but you were still anxious about anyone seeing you together that you'd refused him until you made it to his car. you were probably just being paranoid and no one would care about two responsible adults talking to each other, but all the time you'd spent hiding from your peers had put you on edge.
so, it wasn't until you were safely out of the church parking lot and in the driveway of his apartment complex that you let him touch you, kissing you over the cupholders with his hands gently holding your neck.
it took everything in you not to climb over the center console and sit on his lap in the driver's seat and kiss him as hard and as deeply as you really wanted, but you knew once you started you wouldn't be able to stop. and besides, he still didn't have any condoms. it didn't bother you either way, since you'd been taking birth control since high school to help with your periods, but if it was what he wanted you'd be more than fine with it.
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you don't know what you'd been expecting the inside his apartment to look like; probably some tacky cross-stitch bible verses or a wooden cross hanging on the wall, but his apartment just looked like… a normal apartment. a very clean apartment, actually, though you weren't surprised. he'd always been a neat, organized kid, and it looked like that was one thing he hadn't grow out of.
you watch as he puts his keys on a hook by the door, following him into the kitchen and sitting at one of the chairs.
he grins at you as he opens his refrigerator, pulling out the ingredients for your lunch before taking out a pan.
"shua…" you interrupt him, standing up and walking towards him slowly. "you're not— really thinking about grilled cheese sandwiches right now, are you?"
he hums, eyes following your every movement as the pan sits cold and abandoned on the stove. "there are… other things on my mind, yeah."
"so why are you still trying to make grilled cheese sandwiches?"
by now you're close enough to stand toe to toe with him, and you're sure he can feel the heat radiating off your body when he wraps his hands around your waist, backing you against the kitchen counter. "because i wanna make you lunch. maybe i just wanna spoil my girl a little bit."
a shiver runs down your spine at the new name he calls you. never in a million years did you think this is where you'd end up.
"i think you have all the time in the world to spoil me later, joshua," you mumble, leaning in closer and closer until your lips touch.
in a flash he's hoisting you up and sitting you on the counter. his mouth never leaves yours as you slide your legs around his hips to drag him closer, kisses growing deeper and more desperate now that you can finally be alone together.
his hands slide down your body, tugging at the hem of your shirt and only breaking apart for a second to slide it over your head before his lips are crashing against yours again. 
your hands find his hips, experimentally tugging on his belt to see his reaction. immediately he pulls away from you, 
cheeks flushed and breathing heavily. "sweetheart, i still don't have any condoms. if you really want to now, then we gotta run to the store first."
“i’m on the pill,” you burst out, hoping he gets the message. maybe he has some other reason for wanting to, but you're too impatient to wait for who knows how long it'll take to go to the store, and you don't think you'll be able to keep your hands off him for that long. you don't think you'll be able to keep your hands off of him for even a few seconds.
his face goes blank as he processes your words, struggling to understand if you’re saying what he thinks you’re saying. “you’d let me…?”
you grab onto his arms, a desperate attempt to pull him closer, to feel more of him. “raw, yes, joshua. just—please, i need you,” you beg him, cunt throbbing with neglect as you wait for him to answer. 
he buries his face in your shoulder with a groan, gripping his hands underneath your thighs and sliding you off the counter.
with a shriek you wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck, holding on tightly as he starts to walk out of the kitchen carrying you. "joshua! what the hell are you doing?"
his face is still pressed against your shoulder, and you can feel his lips tickling your bare skin as he speaks. "i'll fuck you on my kitchen counter any day of the week, baby, but i want to have you for the first time in my bed, please?"
his voice is low and whiny, just as desperate for you as you are for him and it makes you moan with excitement. 
he finds his way into his room, stumbling a little when he accidentally runs you into the wall instead of through the doorway, but you just giggle and kiss him harder until he finally drops you on his bed, immediately unbuttoning his shirt.
you run your hands along his chest as he leans over you, feeling the toned muscle that feels almost wrong to be seeing. his physical changes are much more obvious to you now that he's like this, and you know the image will fuel your fantasies for weeks.
your hands move to his belt again and this time he allows it, letting you unbuckle it and toss it away before slowly lowering the zipper. he's already hard again, and your heart races when you put a little bit of pressure on the seam and he lets out a guttural groan in response.
his arms flex as he reaches down to slide your skirt off, and you help him and kick the fabric away, leaving both of you in nothing but your underwear.
joshua pauses, letting his gaze wander your body as you look away shyly. he hums and you look back at him in confusion. "don't hide from me, sweetheart, please," he says, but it comes out more like a whine; not like he's asking, but like he's begging. it's honestly the hottest thing you've ever heard, and even with your nerves he makes it hard to resist.
"dreamt about this for fucking years. years," he moans as he leans over to kiss your chest, reaching behind your body to undo your bra and let it fall away. you whimper when he brings his hands up to cup your breasts, wrapping his mouth around one of your nipples as he starts to slowly grind against your clothed pussy. you can already feel yourself soaking through your panties, and you're sure he can feel it, too.
his hands are like nothing you've ever felt, and you roll your head back against his pillows, arching into him as he massages your breasts with his large hands. you'd noticed them before, but you hadn't realized just how big they were until they were on top of you and made your body seem almost tiny beneath his massive palms.
"shua…" you breathe, tentative hands reaching up to touch his shoulders.
he looks up at you, mouth covered in spit. "yes, angel?"
you whimper at the nickname. no angel you'd ever learned about in sunday school had acted like you are right now, begging a man to fuck you. and on top of that it was before marriage, too; surely if there was a god they would be extremely disappointed in you. but right now you didn't care if the entire universe was disappointed in you, as long as joshua hong wasn't.
it takes you a few more seconds to build up your courage, but finally you open your mouth and tell him, "joshua, please— fuck me."
he slides forward to kiss you again, before sitting back and repositioning himself between your legs. "anything you want, sweetheart."
he lines his cock up at your entrance, and just before you think he's about to push into you, he looks up at you instead. 
"i love you, so much," he says, and you have to fight the urge to hide your face as you grin and giggle like a fucking schoolgirl; like the past version of you would have, if she'd had any sense and figured everything out sooner.
and, like always, he asks, "ready?", and you nod, and it's better than you could've ever imagined.
the whines that leave his mouth drive you close to the edge already as he begins to thrust into you, slowly, gently, just a little bit at a time but it still leaves you gasping from his size.
he keeps moving at a snail's pace until you reach up, fumbling to grab at his bicep as tears nearly spill out of your eyes and beg him, "joshua, more, please."
he leans over you, pressing his body flat against yours as he starts to rock his hips faster, and you cry out from so much pleasure and so much emotion hitting all at once.
"wanted you so fucking bad, for so long, and now you're finally here," he whispers, his thrusts never faltering despite how close in proximity he is to your face.
you whine as your hands claw at his back, digging in as you struggle to hold on and he curses again, pushing into you harder.
"you said i was better than you imagined," he groans, one hand coming up to caress your cheek. "but you're even better than i imagined. you're a fucking angel, so fucking beautiful."
you gasp his name, falling into your orgasm from his words alone as you clench impossibly tight around him. you always thought of him as the nice kid, the rule follower, but here he is, fucking you through the hardest orgasm of your life and saying such filthy things in between praises and compliments.
"jo-oshua, please!" is all you can manage, still struggling to recover before he crests into his own high with a whimper. his eyes scrunch up as he releases inside you, eyelashes fluttering and sweat dripping down his temples, and you think it's the most beautiful sight you've ever seen. 
a constant stream of curses fall from his lips and you swallow them with yours, kissing him as if you're afraid he might disappear into thin air if you don't hold onto him tight enough.
his breaths are shallow when his mouth falls away from you, resting his forehead on your shoulder with a long exhale.
"god…" he starts, then stops and laughs, and you have to tug on his hair to make him face you again.
"what are you laughing at?" you say, cheeks growing hot when he looks at you with droopy, hooded eyes and a lopsided smile.
"nothing," he laughs. "just god. what a funny word."
"and why is that, baby?" you say as you try to hold back a smile, testing out the nickname.
he grins. "because it gave me you. or maybe it didn't. who knows?"
you finally laugh along with him, remembering what he'd said to you on the phone that feels like years ago. "don’t you know it’s a sin to take the lord’s name in vain, sweetheart?”
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the church is humming with activity as you make your way to the front pew, carrying two donuts in your hand. people greet you as they mingle about the hall, talking and laughing. some wave excitedly when they see you, others simply smile and offer their hand for you to shake with a friendly “good morning and god bless!”
being a pastor’s wife isn’t something you ever imagined yourself doing, but then again, a lot of things in your life you never imagined doing. you never imagined seeing joshua again, and you never imagined marrying him, either. you certainly didn’t imagine taking over your father-in-law’s church when he retired and decided it was time for joshua to take his place as head of the church. you always knew he would someday, whether he wanted to or not, but you’d be happy to spend the rest of your life by his side no matter where he was or what job he had.
you’d been almost nervous when you decided it was finally time to tell your parents you had been seeing each other, but to your surprise they had been overjoyed at the news. both his family and yours were “just so glad when it happened to be you!”, saying things like “we’d always known it would happen, back since you were children!”, and “so when are we going to get some beautiful little grandchildren to take to sunday school!”
it had been five long and happy years since that very first phone call, and every minute you spend with joshua has been the best of your life.
you walk up the steps to the stage where your husband is waiting, flipping through his notes for the morning’s sermon. you hand him his donut with a grin, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. he smirks at you, imperceptible to everyone else but you can tell what it truly means.
everybody in the congregation always talks you’re the perfect example of a happy, god-loving couple. such nice looking people, so well put together. but behind closed doors, they’d be horrified by the things you say and do together. wolf in sheep’s clothing, as is your husband’s favorite parable to preach.
it’s not the life you imagined, but it’s perfect to you and him.
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i hope you enjoyed this!! if you did, consider reblogging with tags or leaving a comment or an ask :) it shows me this is something people want to see more of, and knowing people like this makes me want to write more of it! thanks for reading!!
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espinosaurusrexex · 3 months
Text
Colin has a wet dream about you
a/n: I love Polin, but I am also obsessed with the Bridgerton men and you gotta let a girl dream... or rather her fictional crush 😏
word count: ~600
warnings: smut (wet dream - not super graphic), pining, Colin missing you :(
・゚✫* 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑖 𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 。✭・゚
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“Oh,” you gasp, “Colin!”
The white duvet crumbles beneath your writhing body, every curve and divot of your skin brands itself into Colin’s mind like a well rehearsed poem, or the tune of a song that just cannot seem to leave his head. 
“I love you,” he whispers your name into your neck, the sweat coating his brow as if he were sparing with his brothers. Though he is doing quite the opposite indeed. 
His hips push forward in gentle passion as he falls deeper in the all-encompassing pleasure that is covering his every being in warmth and shivers. 
“I love you,” Colin promises once more, his lips grazing upon every surface of you he can reach until your hand tangles in his hair, holding him in place just as your mouth touches his.
“Say it back, my love.” Another thrust ruts through the both of you, and your damp breath travels past his face. “I am entirely yours.”
“I- ah! Colin, oh my-“ He is fighting the urge to roll you on top of him, to see your breasts bounce with every thrust, to weigh them in his hands and feel how perfect they are… especially when he runs his fingers over the pebbled flesh which makes your sounds pique. No, he needs his body pressed against yours, needs every inch of him to touch you in fear of it all being his wicked imagination. There is no risking your fading away. 
“I beg you, love.” He is close to losing his mind if you don’t answer him soon, the urge of your confession growing greater than his need for release. But his body won’t stop moving. You are drawing him in deeper and deeper until your other hand scratches down his back. 
You are a moaning mess beneath him, and he wouldn’t have it any other way… well, except for the fact that you have yet to pronounce your undying love for him so that you can both live happily ever after together. 
Though, for some reason, that sentence never comes. Instead, the knot in his belly grows tighter and tighter until his eyes are skewed shut. One more thrust and he will tumble over into the warm and floaty feeling only you have ever brought him. 
“Colin, look at me.” You stroke over his hair and stare at him adoringly. He can feel it now, the words on the tip of your tongue as you kiss him once more, and the warm tightness spreading throughout him when you finally say them. 
“I love-“
A loud crash sounds from outside his room and Colin shoots up in his bed. 
It takes him a second to come to again. The room he is in is sparely lit through the heavy dark blue curtains drawn before his windows. 
He is hot, and bothered, he notices after dragging his hand across his dampened face, staring down at the prominent evidence in his lap. But the worst part of it all is… that he is alone. 
“Are you alright?!” 
“I am fine, Mr. Bridgerton! Please excuse the disturbance!”
“Do not worry!”
Colin falls back into his pillow with a heavy sigh and closes his eyes once more. The memory of your silhouette still lingers in his mind. The way the Greek coastal winds blew on your dress, your hair, making him fall in love with the slight dishevel, he would always connect to you. 
There is nothing he misses more from his travels than your presence. And he mourns every day he has to spend without you now. 
With a heavy heart, and a silent tear springing from them, he presses his face into the silk sheets, wishing, hoping, praying, to see you once more. 
Wanna be added to the Taglist?
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omgeto · 1 year
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girlll, I've been thinking what would be the reaction of jjk men when the reader tells them that they wanna sit on their faces
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✩ WHEN YOU ASK TO SIT ON THEIR FACE — GOJO, TOJI, GETO, NANAMI.
summary: you ask to sit on their face, they react. that's all I got.
cw: smut, duh, so MDNI, afab!reader.
an: here you go anon, hope you enjoy... and I hope no-one STEALS THE NANAMI PART OF THIS FIC smh loool. but ive posted so major slay for me.
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✩GOJO: “oh you wanna sit on my face huh?” gojo smirks, cockiness exuding him as he eyes your thig hs rubbing together as you squirm in your seat and shyly nod your head. his hand parts your legs slightly and his fingers gently brush against your wet slit, just enough to coat his fingers. he pops his fingers in mouth, tasting you with a smile, “you’re always too sweet to me,” he praises, “letting me taste you and lay under your sweet sweet pussy.” his wet finger, still covered with you, pushes into your mouth as you begin to taste yourself. “see how good you taste?” he asks with a smile as you nod, your mouth still wrapped around his finger, “then c’mon sit down, so i can get a full meal.”
✩ TOJI: “get up here then,” toji beckons you. you are already straddling him, your pussy resting atop of his stomach. you crawl your way up his body, your clit feeling the hardness of his abs as you pause, rubbing your cunt against his chest, already stimulated. toji watches in amusement, loving the way he can get you off with any part of his body. “you already making a mess for me?” he comments, feeling the trail of your juices pool on his chest. he grins at the way you slowly nod your head, “save it for my mouth,” he finishes dragging you up onto his face.
✩GETO: “i thought you’d never ask,” geto breathes out, excitedly. he’s been waiting for this, he loves to eat you out, the way you’d always push his face deep into your cunt, as his tongue drags against your slit, darting in and out of you. so the idea of him being sandwiched between his bed and your pussy feels like heaven, he couldn’t wait to be nestled in your thighs as you pull on his hair, moaning at all the pleasure that he’s giving to you. he pauses in anticipation as you hover over his face your thighs buckling as he gives your clit a quick peck. as you  finally cushion his face, his head pressed between your thighs, you could feel his mouth turn into a wide smile as it covers your pussy.
✩NANAMI: “you don't have to be embarrassed,” nanami coos, chuckling at your flushed face as he loosens his tie and carries you over to his bed. he bites his lip at the sight of your glistening pussy, and he smirks thinking about when you cutely asked him if you could try sitting on his face, he jumped at the chance. he lays down, caressing your thigh, giving your clit a slight pinch to indicate that you can hop on him. he blissfully groans as you perch your on him, you could feel the vibrations across your pussy as you already start to spill down his chin before he even begins to work at your cunt.
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AN: guys I posted wow can I actually get some form of medal or even a cookie for this since wowzers I have been really NOT fucking w what I’ve been writting lately however one day I shall write a good ol fic for you I promise but for now I hope you enjoyed this short short smutty piece of fiction
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sutorus · 11 months
Text
OFF TO THE RACES
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DESCRIPTION: toji takes you to bet on one of his races.
PAIRING: toji x reader
WC: 1.9k
WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI. f! reader, afab terms, age gap, implied free use, heavy implied dubcon, in public, fingering (f! receiving), come eating (f!), crying, pet names (babydoll, honey, s!ut), heavy objectification 
A/N: yes i grew up on ldr i love my (((strictly fictional))) old men sue me!
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“you better start praying number four catches up soon, babydoll,” he whispers into your ear, snaking a hand around your waist. 
a chill runs down your spine and your body rattles violently in response. 
he had told you to dress up today. 
how naive you were, thinking he’d just said that because it was a nice date, because the type of people that enjoy horse races don’t usually wear flip flops or show their midriffs. 
if only you had known.
you’re trying to hide it, but you’re nervous.
you can’t help it, constantly sneaking sideway glances at the two imposing men who have been staring at you this entire time. 
it would be an unbelievable situation, if it wasn’t toji. not for the first time, you wonder why you ever got involved with him. 
the lip scar should’ve been enough of a warning. the intentionally vague answer he gave about his job should’ve been enough, the decades — plural — that separated you two should’ve been enough. 
but he was a smooth talker. and he was good looking. and he made you feel safe, mostly because, well… who could be more dangerous than him? 
that feeling has never been more prevalent to you than it is right now. 
toji’s gaze follows yours, his fingertips sneaking under your skirt just barely. 
“don’t look so spooked,” he instructs, and you swallow around the lump in your throat. toji laughs low, letting his head loll sideways on top of yours. “you scared of dick or somethin’?”
you hate this. you hate this so much. you hate the way your body’s responding to it the most. 
the heat in your gut spreads all the way up to your cheeks, and you stop yourself from soothing your burning face with the back of your hands. 
he’d told you not to draw too much attention. not to make any sudden movements. you thought it was because — you thought, you thought, you thought. but you were wrong. 
you can’t decide if you can even blame yourself for that. 
you knew toji was running out of money. you knew he was involved with some shady people. 
but when in your wildest dreams could you have imagined he was planning on using you as a betting chip?
the disapproving click of his tongue pulls you from your thoughts, and your eyes lock dreadfully on horse number four. 
it’s falling behind, number six stealing third place from it. 
the heat inside you spreads further. 
“if it’s any consolation,” toji says, conversationally. “i don’t think they’ll be too mean to ya.”
it reminds you of a nature documentary you watched, once. the gazelle, trying to act nonchalant, looking for an escape route, when faced with a pride of lions. a dangerous dance. and everybody knows who’s got the upper hand, there. 
“not meaner than i am, at least,” he adds. 
your shut your eyes tightly. 
you haven’t even dared to look at them properly, at toji’s sponsors or loan sharks or whatever the hell they are. 
you want to scream at him, at how embarrassing it is that they’re younger than him and richer than him, having fun at both of your expenses. 
you realize suddenly that they’re not even here to watch the race. this place probably doesn't entertain them anymore, more of a chore than anything else.
they’re here to watch you, sweating and fidgeting on your seat with the knowledge that your body was theirs if the damn horse didn’t win. 
a one in eight change. 
god, you hoped it was toji’s lucky day. 
you catch a glimpse of a wild, tall figure to the left of you, swaying in gleeful laughter as the horse falls to fifth place.  
“let’s go home,” you grip the hand that’s resting on your leg in a last ditch effort. 
it’s useless, of course.
toji’s jaw is tensed, every muscle tight in anger. 
he doesn’t want this, either. he doesn’t like sharing you. 
but then again, he doesn’t really care about you, does he? cares more about his money, at least. 
your breathing starts to pick up, legs shaking in anticipation. in a way, you just want this to be over. 
you’re so caught up in your dread that you don’t even notice toji’s fingers crawling up your thigh until his knuckles are grazing your clothed pussy. 
your body immediately seizes up, your straightened spine glued to the back of your chair.
he gives a low, mean chuckle when he feels how wet you are. 
toji rubs you there almost soothingly, and tears threaten to spill from your eyes. 
your fists are clenched tightly on your lap, legs squeezing together in an attempt to — what? you don’t know. 
stop him? encourage him? it doesn’t feel like it matters anymore. 
toji shifts in his seat to face you, slipping the pads of his fingers into your panties. you huff, only able to watch the movement of his hand underneath your skirt. 
he rubs lazy circles on your clit, eyes on your face and showing no emotion at all.
no remorse at all. 
it feels good. it feels good and you hate that it does, that it feels good with him, that he can get you like this anytime, anywhere. 
you bite down on your bottom lip when two fingers slide down, just teasing your entrance, gliding over your pussy. 
your chest burns from the inside out with uneven breaths, and defeatedly, willingly, you spread your legs just a little bit. 
you’re not watching the race anymore and you think that’s for the better. you focus only on toji’s veiny forearms as the muscles there work over and over with every stroke of his fingers. 
someone clears their throat loudly and your legs kick out in shock. 
an initial wave of panic washes over you but then you’re glad.
surely getting caught fingering your girlfriend at a horse race would get you kicked out, right? and then the deal is over, right? and then you won’t have to—
before you can even vocalize your thoughts, toji’s rolling his eyes and, with a sigh, settling back on his seat to face the race. 
but his fingers don’t leave you. 
no, he continues pumping them lazily in and out of you, thumb pressing down on your clit and rubbing little circles. 
and that’s when you realize the sound had come from the left of you. from the men. not a horrified gasp, a dignified warning, no.
if anything, an entitled demand that toji stops blocking their view of you. 
you wish you could cry right now.
instead, you tuck your chin into your chest as toji speeds up his movements, going a little faster, a little meaner. you swallow your wails, thighs shaking.
those men, they don’t look like they kill. they probably get other people to do that for them. you haven’t gathered a lot from your stolen glances but that much you’re sure of. 
you know you’ll return home to toji. despite everything, you’ll run back to his arms, for better or for worse. 
“you likin’ this?” he’s asking, like he doesn’t know the answer. “y’like that i bet your slutty little cunt on that rank, good for nothing horse?”
you let out a sob, chest lurching. he pumps his fingers in and out of you at just the right pace, hitting just the right patches despite how hard you’re squeezing around him. 
“please…” you mewl, not sure what you’re asking for. 
his thumb is relentless on your clit, rubbing it over and over again. your hips buck on their own, wanting more, more friction, more filling, more. 
“you’ll get more soon, whore,” toji spits out like he can read your mind. there’s no point in hiding how much you’re enjoying this, being in public, being eyed hungrily like a prize, when toji knows your body so well. 
it feels almost like he’s prepping you, physically and mentally, for what’s to come, and it makes you weep harder. 
when a wave of astonished cheers break out in unison, it sounds miles away to you. all you can is the blood rushing inside your ears, toji’s huffed out breaths, the crinkle of bills being passed around from one hand to another. 
you’re slow to notice the commotion is due to horse number four miraculously catching up, coming in at number two now.
dangerously close to first place. 
it’s a rush, all at once, when toji turns your head to kiss you. 
you come undone on his fingers, right then and there, whining crazed moans into his mouth. he groans when your cunt clenches, fluttering around his fingers as the last waves of your orgasm hit you. 
if you focus hard enough, you can hear the shlick of his fingers lazily helping you ride out your high. you can’t help it but to let your head fall on his chest.
when toji pulls his fingers out of you, there are webs of slick in between them. you feel almost embarrassed, even more so when he brings them up to your mouth quickly, pushing in between your lips with ease. 
you suck efficiently to clean him up and toji hums in approval, petting your hair. 
there’s an instant where you two look in each other’s eyes and that’s all there is, your fucked out brain forgetting everything except for his touch. 
“ahh,” then a merry voice breaks you out of your trance, its owner casting a shadow over both your bodies as he stands in front of you. “i hate to ruin the moment, really, but…”
the man points his thumb over his shoulder.
the race is over.
horse number four came in at fourth place. 
how fitting. 
his partner approaches and there’s no denying it, they’re extremely attractive. individually, yes, but maybe even more so together, side by side, looking like opposites who came together due to being... likeminded.
but still. are they really going to—
“collect,” the other one says, sternly, with his hands up like he’s a good guy. “satoru. we’re just here to collect. no need to rub salt in the wound.” 
toji chuckles, but you catch the way his shoulders tense. 
“hey, a deal’s a deal. but no wounds here,” he looks at you briefly before squinting up at them. “doubt you two kids can do half the damage.”
that i can is left unsaid. you fight hard to keep the horrified look off your face. 
toji was already pimping you out to these random men, essentially. did he have to provoke them, too?
you resent the fact that the dread in the pit of your stomach isn’t big enough to push away the arousal growing next to it. 
there’s another reason why you and toji fit so well together, after all. 
the taller one — satoru — laughs, and this one’s genuine.
he reaches out tentatively, as if he were petting a stray cat, and twirls a piece of your hair around his finger. 
toji looks at him in understanding, in agreement. 
when he doesn’t react any further, satoru’s finger trails down to your lips, still glistening wet. he traces them, jutting his own out in a pout. 
“she better be worth every penny you cost us, zen’in.”
toji smirks.
you notice the other man, the one with black hair and a bun, is hard in his tailored slacks. 
you swallow down the last of your sobs.
“oh, she is," toji's hand gives your thigh a departing tap. "i might have shit taste in horses but i know how to pick my sluts."
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imyourbratzdoll · 1 year
Text
𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒂𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒇𝒆𝒓𝒂𝒍 𝒎𝒂𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒍𝒖𝒓𝒌𝒔 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒉𝒂𝒅𝒐𝒘𝒔
🕊️a whore's fairytale masterlist🕊️
summary - y/n jane porter (you) decides to prove men wrong by searching for the lost man, and you happen upon him after insulting a bunch of baboons, only to realise that you will never leave again.
warning - smut, dubcon, chase, marking, insulting animals, swearing, oral sex, creampie, kidnapping/held hostage?
18+ only please, the gif and headers I use aren't mine.
Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.
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You huffed as you stalked the forest, searching for a man who had been lost to the world. Explorers have searched high and low for him but have yet to succeed. You were determined to be different, to prove to them that you could find the lost man. Secretly though, you knew he would be feral, not even knowing what a woman was and the pleasure you could bring him. You hiked up your light yellow dress, white-gloved hands scrunching the material between your fists. You spin when you hear a sound, looking up into the trees, and your eyes widen when you notice the many baboons staring down at you. 
“Oh, hello.” You look closer, squinting your eyes and scrunching your nose. “You’re quite ugly creatures, aren’t you?” You stumble back when they begin to screech, looking ready to attack, and you put your hands up. “I didn’t mean to offend. It’s just…” Your words are lost to them, and you start running as some of them jump from the trees and chase you, the others swinging through the branches. You pick up your pace, dodging trees and rocks, trying your best not to trip or get caught. You feel your breath shorten, and your lungs burn. A scream escapes you as your foot gets caught on a root, but before you can fall, something or someone grabs you, swinging you away from the baboons. 
You screw your eyes shut, not daring to look at what had grabbed you, feeling it would be better if you didn’t see what fate had planned for you. Your brows scrunched as you felt whoever or whatever was placing you down softly, and your eyes widened when you opened them, noticing the man everyone had been searching for. The lost man had saved you from being torn to shreds, and the excitement caused a jolt between your legs. You scanned his physic, noticing how tanned and beautiful he looked. Your eyes landed on his face lastly, eyeing the moustache and imagining what it would feel like in between your thighs, his unbrushed hair all curled and wild, like him. 
Tangerine’s head tilts, doing the same to you. He was curious, never having seen someone like you before. He’s seen others that look like him, but none so… Beautiful, so soft looking. He licked his lips, scanning you like you were a meal for him to feast on. He glared when you lifted your hand, and you returned it with a soft smile. “It’s okay. I’m not here to hurt you… I’m Y/n Jane Porter. Do you have a name?” Tangerine grunts, lifting his hand and cautiously placing it against yours, thinking of his words. You squeeze your legs together at his touch, causing his eyes to snap down to the sweet nectar that lies between your thighs. 
Tangerine’s hand moves from yours and taps his chest. “Tangerine.” Your eyes widen as the words fall from his lips, and you offer a soft smile.
“Like the fruit?” Your head tilts, knowing another name that would fit him. Tarzan stays on the tip of your tongue as you watch him.
He grunts again and stops, looking around before roughly grabbing you, causing a gasp to pass your lips. “Danger.” He growls. You are lifted onto the large man’s shoulders again as he begins to swing away just in time as the baboons swing, missing you by inches. Tangerine lands roughly on the ground. After a while of swinging and making sure you were no longer being followed, he lets you get off of him. You fall as your legs feel shaky, and you stumble back. He spins, eyeing you more, gazing at your exposed legs. 
You clear your throat, brushing the dirt from your dress. “Thank you again.” Your chest moves up and down as you breathe heavily. You try and keep your eyes from looking at the bulge hidden behind the tiny cloth. Tangerine’s eyes lock to your heaving chest. You watch as they become black, filling with feral lust. He stalks towards you, backing you into a tree. You feel your cunt pulse, the large man turning you on. “W–what are you doing?” You gulp, squeezing your thighs together when he traps you against the wood.
“Me do you.” Tangerine growls. He grabs your hips, dragging you onto the ground and climbing over you. “Stay… Still.” He grunts, trapping you with his large body and rubbing his bulge against your dripping cunt. Tangerine had never felt something so incredible, and he hadn’t even explored that far yet. He sits on his legs, looking down at you with dark eyes filled with lust and hunger, growling as your dress becomes annoying. Tangerine grips the material, shredding it and causing you to squeal and squeeze your thighs together, feeling yourself clench around nothing. “Annoying” You don’t know why, but this feral man's few words turn you on. 
You whimper, subconsciously spreading your legs for him, watching his mouth open and close as he glares between your legs, watching your pretty pussy drip. Tangerine growls as he dives in, lapping at your sweet cunt. Your back arches, and you let out a scream that echoes through the many trees. Your hands curl into the ground, legs slamming shut around his head as he continues to feast on your cunt, licking and sucking, wrapping his lips around your swollen pearl and sucking, flicking the sensitive little bud with his tongue. You move your hand into his hair, gripping the untamed locks, pulling him closer. “O–Oh! That feels so good!” You exclaim, feeling the band inside you tighten, ready to snap. “Keep going, please!” Your eyes screw shut, and your toes curl, but suddenly everything stops, and you open them again. “What are you doing? Why did you stop?” You felt furious, sexually frustrated. This was the most pleasure you had felt in your entire life, and you couldn’t let it slip from your fingertips. 
Tangerine growls and your eyes widen when you watch him grab himself. The tiny cloth has tented massively and keeps nothing hidden. He rips the pathetic material from his body and throws it aside, tilting his head as you make an embarrassingly loud choking sound. You look at him and back to his cock repeatedly, staring with your mouth open. “That’s not going to fit inside me.” Even as you say those words, your walls clench as you watch his cock twitch. 
Tangerine grunts, shrugging. He crawls on top of you, forcefully placing your legs onto his shoulder and tapping your gaping hole with his swollen tip. “Fit.” You gasp as he begins to push in, his hair covering his face as he puts his head down, never having felt something so good. “Good” The grunt he lets out causes you to clench around him and his hips to thrust forward, forcing his way deeper inside you. Your head rolls back into the dirt, closing your eyes as he picks up his pace, releasing the animal buried deep inside of him. Tangerine slams hard and fast into you, his cock so large it feels like he’s in your stomach. If possible, the bulge that forms causes him to become even more feral.
Your hands fly up and grip his arms, digging your nails into him before whimpering when he pulls out and flips you around, pushing your face into the dirt and lifting your hips before plunging back into you, grunting and growling as he fucks you like an animal. Your mouth falls open, and your eyes roll back, clawing into the ground and clutching onto it, trying to find something to ground yourself too. Tangerine grips your hips, pounding against you, moaning when he feels you grip his cock like a vice, dragging him deeper into you and allowing him to hit your sweet spot repeatedly. “Ah! Oh! Fuck… Right there!” You whine, fucking and grinding your hips back into him, wanting to feel him more. 
Tangerine pulls out again, your mind too fuzzy to get angry as he grabs you and pushes you against the tree, wrapping your legs around his waist and reentering your sweet cunt. Your eyes roll into the back of your head, mouth open in a silent scream as he fucks up into you, his lips against your neck, marking you as his. You are so close, feeling your walls pulsate and clench around the feral man, feeling so dirty and full. “I–I’m close!” Tangerine grunts, slamming harder into you, pinning you against the tree, not caring if the bark marks your flesh. Your vision goes white, and your body goes slack in his arms as your orgasm rips through you, squeezing his cock and coating it with your cream.
A growl rips through the large man. Tangerine bites into your shoulder, fucking deeper as he feels his balls tighten. He had only experienced this when he’d touch himself, teasing his cock and balls until he was close to cumming before stopping and repeating. He knew the release would feel amazing, causing him to continue to thrust, his hand moving between your bodies, locating your swollen, sensitive clit and rubbing. Your back arches, causing another orgasm to rip through you, and Tangerine groans, releasing his cum deep inside you, filling you with thick amounts as you squeeze his cock.
Your head slumps against his chest, your chest moving up and down heavily as you try and catch your breath. Your walls pulsate around his still-hard cock, wondering how he could still be ready for more. Tangerine cups the back of your neck, grunting as he makes you look at him. He grins, leaning close as he slowly begins to thrust again. “Mine.” 
The growl can still be heard as you realise you will never be able to leave again, but maybe that was a good thing.
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thank you for reading!
feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.
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buckybarnesisdaddy · 5 months
Text
Meet Cute
Summary: You stumble upon a pottery TikTok account and the creator is super hot. When you win his contest for a custom piece, well sparks start to fly.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Reader
Warning: Sexual innuendos, Smut (Oral, PiV), talks of fighting as kids, talks of alcohol use and being drunk. No protection sex (but it’s okay, they talk about it.) Minors DNI
Idea came from this post
Dividers by @firefly-graphics
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Another Friday night with nothing better to do than sit on your phone scrolling Instagram while a forgotten movie plays in the background. You really should be writing, you have a deadline coming up soon but you just can’t bring yourself to write about romance and love. You can hear Natasha saying goodbye to her date on the doorstep, and she has been for the last 20 minutes. Finally Natasha comes stumbling in, face flushed and giggling away, which is odd because Natasha never giggles. “So I take it the date went well?” You ask from your perch on the couch, covered in blankets and a bowl of popcorn cooled on the seat next to you.
“If you must know, yes!!” She gushes and runs over to sit beside you. “He is so sweet and such a gentleman-”
“What he as doing to you out there didn’t sound too ‘gentleman like.’ In fact it sounds down right scandalous.” You tease and Natasha rolls her eyes and gives you a playful shove.
“He was an absolute gentleman,” she doubles down before she blushes and admits, “well that was till I said all the right words and had him ready to eat me alive.” Natasha laughs as you pretend to retch. “Oh hush! If you ever got off this couch you’d have a line of men waiting to take you out and begging for you to talk dirty to them.” Natasha winks, you can feel the heat rise in your cheeks and you sink further down into the couch.
“I have Bridgerton, and my own fictional men that I write, I don’t need a man.” You shoot back at her slightly insulting but meant in good fun jab at your non-existent dating life. “Anyway, where did you meet this guy again?” Natasha picks up a handful of popcorn before she realizes it’s cold. She wrinkles her nose but commits anyway to eating it.
“Tiktok!” Natasha answers over a mouthful. A loud laugh escapes for you and she gives you another play shove before taking the popcorn for herself. “We talked a lot online before we met up. He’s great, in fact i have made lots of friends from TikTok! You should give it a try!” Abruptly standing up and shaking your head, you walk to the kitchen to retrieve a drink.
“No way, I know myself and I’d end up sucked Down the rabbit hole and I’d never get anything done. And for the sake of my job, I can’t have that.” Natasha sighs a unmutes the tv.
“What a waste of a good ass and ‘I'll beg for it eyes’.” Natasha teases and you can’t help but laugh again as you enter the room with your water and a drink for Natasha.
“What kind of videos did you think A) I would be watching and B) potentially making?!” Sitting down next to her giving her a hard stare. Natasha stares straight ahead, purposely not meeting your gaze as she shrugs.
“Anything you wanted, Bunny.” She looks over and winks, using the old nickname you got back in college after too many drinks and a spin on a pogo stick.
“Wow you must really be worried about my good ass and ‘beg for it’s eyes’ going to waste if you’re baiting me with that name!” You lean back and prop your feet up on the coffee table. Natasha leans her head over and eats it on yours.
“All I’m saying is the first step in dating is getting yourself out there. Why not start with a stupid video app? Connect with others from the safety of a screen, and see where it goes.” She smiles and gives your hand a squeeze before she yawns and stands again. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need a shower,” she blushes, “My man got me pretty worked up.” She winks and dashes off. You shake your head and just laugh as you turn back to your movie. That night you toss and turn, unable to sleep. You can’t stop thinking about what Natasha said. Maybe it would be fun, it’s not the pressure of a dating app and you can give out as much information as you are willing to. What could go wrong? Knowing Natasha is still awake as you quickly send her a text.
‘Fine… make me a page but keep it generic.’ About as soon as you put your phone down it dings. You pick it up to find multiple messages from Natasha. ‘Yay! I already did! Here is the login! Have fun!! 😉’
**********************************************
Bucky is setting up in his garage studio when he hears the bike rev outside and then turn off. Steve walks in and lays his helmet down on one of his work tables.
“So? How did the date go?” Bucky asks as he sets down a bucket of water next to his wheel and sets a sponge out next to the bucket. Steve leans against the table and grabs a chunk of modeling clay. He starts to knead it in his hands, treating it like a stress ball as he smiles.
“Honestly? Amazing! I mean, really Buck. She’s great!” Bucky laughs to himself and nods. “You know you’re never gonna find a women unless you actually get out there and try to date.” Steve teases and Bucky just throws a rag at him.
“Yeah yeah, hand me that clay and let me get paid, okay?!” Bucky jokes and Steve tosses him the clay. He slaps it down on the wheel and Steve laughs.
“See, that right there would have women lining up and down the street for you!” Steve turning Bucky’s harmless actions of slapping his clay into sexual jokes and Bucky returning the favor is something Bucky hopes they never outgrown.
“Yeah, and the boys would be lining up to have you handle their wood, we’d be making bank if we started charging.” Steve laughs and shoves Bucky.
“Woodworking is a noble hobby.” Steve rebuts.
“Noble and as old at time!” Bucky had the last say. “Now, shut up and press live for me.” Bucky smiles and Steve pretends to be annoyed as he does what was asked.
**********************************************
You want to be upset that she did it before you gave her permission, but you know she means well. Your last relationship did not end well and you haven’t dated since, honestly you’ve been sacred to. Natasha just wants to see you happy. You download the app and use the login information Natasha sent you. Apparently she’s been following people for you and set up the whole account. She was nice enough to not include a picture of you, instead she added the generic pictures everyone can choose from when they start a profile. She put that your name is ‘Bunny’, you she’s your head and just laugh, reminding yourself to change that later. You see you username ‘talkdirtytome’. “Oh Nat,” you groan. Becoming a master at TikTok in a matter of minutes you find where to change your username, but seeing as Natasha had changed it 5 times in less than 2 hours, your account is locked to more changes for at least a week. Thankful that the username you ended up with wasn’t so bad considering one of the last names was ‘fckbunny'. “Oh my god, Nat. You are so dead!” You take a deep breath and sit up against your headboard. You remind yourself it’s not the end of the world and it’s just the internet, it’s only forever. Ready to give it a rest for the night you lay your phone down when you get a notification.
*Buchananclaymates is going live*
“Who the hell is that and why does it sound like porn?” Even as you ask yourself that very important question your thumb has already clicked on the notification. You are taken to the live screen on TikTok. On your screen sits the most handsome man you’ve ever seen in your life. His blue eyes pop against the blue henley he is wearing and his hair is short. Theres a boyish charm to him even though he is clearly in his early late 20’s maybe even early 30’s. He is sitting in some kind of garage and on the shelf behind him sits a dozen or so pots, pitchers, mugs, plates, all of them handcrafted. What gets you the most is his little New York accent slipping through his words. Not too much but enough that you can pick out the Brooklyn in him. His voice is so smooth, you could fall asleep listening to him talk about pottery. And his laugh, it makes you smile and you want to hear it again, so light and free, beautiful. As the shock of how beautiful this man is finally resolves, he says something that makes your heart drop straight to your stomach.
**********************************************
Bucky is having fun as all his followers sign on and begin requesting stuff. He starts to work the clay and begins his steps on making a pitcher. He is taking a moment to read some of the chat when a new user pops up. He memorized all his regulars, and yes there is about 100-200 of them but he has a good memory, against all odds and every concussion he had as a child. But his is one he has never seen before. He cleans off his hands and moves the camera closer.
“Hey, I see some new people here tonight,” He gets a better look at the username and he can’t help but blush and laugh as he teases his new viewer. “User ‘talkdirtytome’ I feel like you might be on my wrong account.” He winks. “I’m just messing with you! I do have another account and it is a little more… well-“ **********************************************
A voice from somewhere behind the camera shouts, “thirst trappy!!” The man Blushes but also nods, “yeah, I guess Rogers is right. It’s full of pottery thirst traps. But nothing more than that. This is a pg-13 page so, ‘talkdirtytome’ save it for the DM’s” he winks and laughs again. You look at the comments pouring in as the live continues, some are asking about buying some of his work. Others are asking if he makes custom pieces. Other ask what’s his favorite type of clay to use, you didn’t know there were different types. But overwhelmingly the comments were asking ‘take your shirt off!’ The man didn’t seem bothered by the comments at all, in fact he ate it up. Flirting and teasing the viewers with movements that showed little sections of his stomach or leaning forward and letting his shirt dip enough to see down it. He truly is a showman because you are entranced and before you know it you’ve spent an hour on this live watching him talk about pottery, and getting to know a little about him. You find yourself wanting to know everything, he seems so sweet and his eyes are kind. You don’t even realize you’re drooling over him until he starts rapping up the live. You don’t even know his name and yet you’re sad when he finally says goodnight and cuts the live off.
**********************************************
Bucky is pleasantly surprised with how well this live went. He got 15 orders while on live and he got about 1000 new followers. He knew he was pulling out all the stops tonight and flirting hardcore. Making sure he didn’t wear an undershirt so when he raised his arms the comment section went wild with the tease. Putting his hair in a half up half down bun that he knows drives his followers crazy. He was playing for keeps and thankfully it paid off. Especially with his most interesting new viewer. Why this new user caught his eye he will never know, ‘talkdirtytome’ was probably some 59 year old bald guy who found Bucky hot… but he couldn’t help hoping that maybe the user was really some really beautiful women in her late 20’s… a guy can dream, right?
**********************************************
You quickly click to his profile and do a little stalking. You can’t find this other page he talked about, probably because it’s some onlyfans or something like a cam sight. He was probably keeping it PG so the TikTok police didn’t flag his video. You’ve only been on it for about 2 hours but you’ve heard all about people getting banned or blocked because their videos were “too mature.” You give his page a once over again you finally clock his name. “James, huh. How very.. normal.” You blush and quickly jump back to your page, feeling exhilarated you change the profile picture to one of you. It doesn’t really show much, in fact all it shows is your hair and a hidden side profile… but it’s a step. You then find James page again and quickly, before you can second guess yourself, you follow him and set up notifications. You don’t want to miss seeing this beautiful man. Maybe Natasha was right, maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. You lay your phone down and drift off to sleep, happier than ever.
**********************************************
Right before Bucky is about to go to bed he sees a new notification,
*New Follower- Bunny*
“Who the fuck is Bunny??” Bucky asks out loud as he clicks on the profile. He sees the username at the top ‘talkdirtytome’, “Ahh so Baldies name is Bunny, great.” Bucky groans. But then he sees the profile picture. “I wait, that’s a women. Wait- that’s?! FUCK YES!” He about yells from the comfort of his room, and only bring his voice down because he remembers Steve is on the other side of the wall. He messages you and then Bucky goes to sleep one happy man.
**********************************************
The sun streams through your window and you wake up to the soft buzz of your phone. You stretch and start your morning routine before actually checking the said phone, because you know the time suck that will happen if you just sit and scroll instead of getting up and ready. A text from Natasha saying she’s meeting ‘her man’ and will bring you back a coffee. You start to set your phone down when you notice a little red bubble on the TikTok app. Curiosity gets the better of you and you find your way back to your bed before you open it. The butterflies that burst in your stomach and travel throughout your body leave you breathless when you see that you have 5 messages from ‘Buchananclaymates’ aka Bucky.
“Ohmygodohmygodohmygod!!” You start screaming as you take deep breaths and try to calm down. “Okay, it’s okay. He’s just a dude. He’s hot! But he’s just a guy, just read the messages.” You click them open and one by one your face heats up more and those butterflies become stronger lower and lower in your body.
*Messages*
Hey!
I see I have a new follower 😉
Glad I didn’t scare you off with all that teasing.
Hope to see you around again!
Maybe even here, 😏 ‘claymatesbuck’
“Oh my god,” you groan at the innuendo of the second username. “So it’s definitely porn!” You exclaim, not sure how you feel about this. “Of course the guy I find attractive is the one with a porn page.” You groan. “You really know how to pick em!” You pout for a moment and then you realize that you’re home alone. Natasha is out and will be for awhile. Your curiosity pushes you to click on the username and you are taken to another tiktok page. Every thumbnail for each video is of Bucky shirtless and working with clay. “He wasn’t kidding about the thirst traps.” You blush as you click on one video. It start to play and there is a semi sexually suggestive song playing as Bucky works the clay in his hands. Molding it and shaping it just how he wants. His biceps are on display and his abs, he ends the video with a little wink and lip bite.
“Oh my god!!” It comes out as more of a moan than it did an actual exclamation. “Oh Natasha, what have you done?!” You groan as you lay on your bed, ready to spend the morning watching every video on his page.
Before long you end up pressing that follow button and closing the app before you can do anything else to embarrass yourself.
**********************************************
Bucky sees your follow on his other page and if he sits down and plans out the next few videos to be exceptionally dirty, well maybe there was a correlation. Or maybe not.
**********************************************
The next two weeks you find yourself watching James new videos he posts and viewing his lives whenever you have a chance. He really does work great with his hands and half the time you forget that he is shirtless until he’s winking at the camera or he’s flirty and teasing everyone saying ‘You guys need some water.’ You wish you had the courage to message him and get to know him a little more but your nerves get in the way each time before you can press send. James will send you flirty messages and you will like them but you can never bring yourself to respond. You interact just enough to let him know to keep doing it.
It’s Friday night again and you see he is going live, like always you join and just watch. “So I have recently reached almost 10,000 followers on here, which is a huge milestone and I wanted to celebrate it!” He sits closer to the phone screen and you get a better glimpse of his eyes. Even. Bluer than you originally thought. He has little creases by his eyes that crinkle when he smiles too big and his nose scrunches up. He’s perfect. “Anyone that wants to be added into the drawing leave a comment on my last video saying so. This drawing is for a custom pottery piece of your choice. So if you win I will make you whatever you ask for,” he smirks, apparently knowing some of his followers a little too well. “Well within reason. No ‘life art’ sculptures.” He winks and you feel the blush start to rise. Would someone really be that bold to request that of him? “Anyway, the drawing will happen tomorrow at noon! So go comment now for the chance to win.” He signs off with a little wave and wink. Without even thinking, because if you think about it you will back out, you comment and ask to be added in. Within minutes he has liked your comment and sent another message to you.
*message*
I was gonna add you in regardless. 😉
The heat is almost burning in your face, he doesn’t even know you. How could he be this good at getting a rise out of you?! Your brain won’t shut off that night, thinking and even dreaming about this man behind your phone screen. “Damn it!” You grumble and end up having to watch some old Disney movies just to keep your mind off the filthy things you wish James would do to you instead of the clay he usually is holding. You finally drift off to sleep to the sounds of Cinderella.
****************************************************
“Hey!” Natasha pulls you out of your thoughts as you look up from your morning coffee.
“Hey, sorry.”
“It’s fine,” she looks you over. “Man you were really out of it. Didn’t even hear me invite you out.”
“Huh?” You hum in acknowledgment and Natasha rolls her eyes.
“I said I am going out later with my TikTok boyfriend and he has a friend that he can invite if you wanted to join.” She explains for the second time.
“Oh umm now? I-“ you try to think of an excuse, not wanting to miss the drawing on James page. “I actually have plans. With someone online.” Natasha shoots up straight and about squeals in excitement. “Okay okay, calm down.” You laugh. “It’s not a date but this guys been super flirty and I- I don’t know, maybe today I will finally make the move and message him back.” You shrug trying to play it off.
“Tell me everything, now!!” Natasha demands as she sips her coffee. “Don’t leave out a single detail.” You debate on lying, or just making it juicier than it is, but you decide against it.
“Okay, just don’t laugh.” You remind her before you tell her everything. She already has his page pulled up and is drooling over him too.
“He is hot!! Wow, and he said all those things to you?!” Meaning the messages he had sent.
“Yeah, so I don’t know. Maybe he’s trying to drum up business-” Natasha shakes her head.
“No, absolutely not. He is flirting hardcore.” She keeps looking through videos and one seems to catch her eye as her eyes widen and then a big smirk crosses her face before she exists out of the app and lays her phone down. Super quiet and worrying you even more than she does when shes asking you a million questions. “You said there is a drawing today?” You nod and you can see the wheels turning already. “At noon?” She asks and you nod again, she checks her watch and then opens her phone, obviously sending a message to someone.
“Natasha if you are messaging James, so help me-“ she cuts you off.
“And so what if I am?” She teases. “I’m just doing the hard work for you, the correct response is ‘thank you’.” She blows you a kiss as she leaves the room, leaving your stomach in knots and even more worried about this drawing.
**********************************************
Steve is in the garage with Bucky, getting ready for the drawing for his page and starting to film some more content for his own carpentry and woodworking page when he gets a text. He looks over at Bucky and then just laughs and quickly answers back.
“What’s so funny Punk?” Bucky asks and Steve smiles.
“Nothing, Jerk. You need help with the drawing? Where’s the bowl?” Steve asks as he slides his phone back in his pants. Bucky points to where he sat it and Steve grabs it to help.
**********************************************
“Okay everyone, it is noon and we are ready to get this show on the road!” James says happily. You refused to let Natasha sit and watch with you. She can watch on her own phone, but she won’t have a front row seat to your blushing or your disappointment when you inevitably lose. “I had over 500 of you enter, which is just incredible! Next time I should make each entry like $3 and send all the proceeds to wounded warriors.” You gently smile at the kind idea. It’s sweet, thinking of others instead of finding a way to make a bigger payday for himself. “Okay, let’s draw! The bowl, Rogers!” A hand comes into frame and the bowl is above James head. He lifts an arm up and reaches in pulling one slip of paper out. And as soon as the arm appeared it disappeared. James opens the paper and smiles before it turns to a laugh and then a smirk. “Well, user ‘talkdirtytome’, I am looking forward to making that custom piece for you.” You swear he stares right at you as he bites his lip and smiles again. “To everyone else, there will be more in the future! Oh and ‘talk dirty’?” You sit up and answer him like an idiot.
‘He can’t hear you, moron.’ You shake your head.
“I’ll be in touch. Bye everyone!” And the live ends. You lay your head down on your bed and just smile at the thought that James will be making a custom piece of pottery for you. When Natasha speaks she scares you half to death, not having heard her sneak in.
“WOW, you’ve got it bad!” She teases and you toss a pillow at her.
“Leave me alone!” You laugh and yell as you look down at the message that just came through.
**********************************************
When he read your username he had to remind himself that he can’t be partial, at least not on camera, but he couldn’t help the smile. He is gonna do this right and he refuses to mess it up, he’s got just the plan. He grabs his phone from his stand and quickly messages you.
**********************************************
*Message*
James- Idk how you feel about exchanging numbers, which I’d be fine with but I understand if you’re not. So zoom? Maybe later this afternoon?
You blush and quickly write back. Saying that you can’t wait and you will “see” him then. James likes your message and then sends a picture of binoculars. It’s so random and weird but you can’t help but laugh. Maybe Natasha’s right, you do have it bad.
You check your hair about 10 times, make sure your make up is okay, not too much but just enough to make it look like you’re not wearing any at all. Your sundress that you were already wearing perfectly accents your figure and makes your eyes pop. You check the lighting in your room and play with the blinds. With 10 minutes to spare before the arranged time for the zoom you sit down as your computer notifies you that you are in the “waiting room.” Whenever Jane slogs on the camera will turn on and that will be it. As you wait so many thoughts cross your mind. ‘He’s probably gonna be short and keep it super professional.’ ‘He may flirt for the camera but there’s no way he’d actually like me.’, ‘Calm down, he’s probably gonna be on and off as fast as he can.’ You start to doubt yourself and you suddenly feel self-conscious for looking nice. Right as you’re about to throw your hair up and grab a blanket to wrap around your shoulders, the screen goes black and then lights up, James is right in front of you. He doesn’t look right at you, still messing around with his notebook and taking a drink of water, obviously not realizing that you two are already connected. At first when he sees you his eyes just glance over. But then the realization hits and his eyes widen
**********************************************
“Wow,” Bucky is breathless. You’re not just beautiful, you’re stunning. He’s never been mesmerized by a single thing or person in his life, until this moment. “I- uh I’m-“ he lightly laughs as he smiles, he can’t stop smiling. “Hi I’m James,” he laughs and blushes as he hangs his head for a moment. “Um but people who have seen me stutter and stumble over my words, like an idiot, get to call me Bucky.” Your smile is contagious and your eyes sparkle brightly as Bucky talks more and more. Your laugh is sweet and music to his ears.
“Hi Bucky, I’m Elizabeth but people who can make me laugh this much can call me Lizzy or Bunny.” You lean forward a little and Bucky laughs.
“Bunny? There’s got to be a story behind that.” He presses lightly. You nod and hide your face for a moment as you blush and giggle.
“There is, but all I can say now is, it was college and I was very drunk, and someone dared me to use a pogo stick… and it turns out I was VERY good at it.” You laugh and Bucky is amazed as he laughs.
“Well so am I so maybe we will have to have a competition to see who is better.” He winks and you laugh.
“Tell me when and where! I’ll just need a few shots first then my balance will be perfect!” You lightly joke as you both laugh. It gets quiet for a minute and Bucky is just taking you in. “So,” Bucky’s eyes go wide as he remembers the whole reason for the zoom.
“Yes, right! Well how about we start by you telling me what you would like.” Bucky says as he grabs his notebook, looking down and starting to write, maybe if he focuses on writing he won’t embarrass himself even more. But then you start to speak and Bucky can’t help but look up and meet your gaze, your voice so sweet and soft. Your eyes kind and warm, ‘how could the username ‘talkdirtytome’ belong to the picture of purity and kindness.’ He smiles at the thought and tries his hardest to listen as you talk.
“I’m not picky at all, so maybe a vase?” You suggest. “Yeah, I’d like to have a gift that means something to me.” You finish explaining. Bucky just stares and then realizes you are done, he quickly looks down and starts to scribble some notes. He is so handsome, you think. The way his brow furrows as he’s concentrating and how the subtle but noticeable blush spreads across his cheeks. His shoulders are firm and you can tell he is solid. His voice, deep and warm, catches you off guard and you hope he didn’t catch you looking starry eyed at him.
“A Vase? That I can do!” Bucky says happily. He didn’t miss how your voice turned ever sweeter when you said ‘a gift that means something.’ He tells himself not to bet too excited. “Colors? Designs?” He wonders what all is hiding in your mind and if you will share it with him now for this vase. If he can get a picture of who you are.
“I love wildflowers, if I’m being honest. But not bright and bold. More subtle and muted. Almost watercolor like.” You laugh to yourself and you see Bucky’s eyes light up at the sound. “Sorry I know that probably sounds weird.”
She’s perfect, Bucky thinks. “Watercolored wild flowers? Yeah, I can make that happen.” He doesn’t want this to end but he has all he needs. How to make this go longer?! “So- I’m local to Brooklyn- and you by no means have to tell me where you’re from or anything- unless you want to!” He cringes at his awkwardness and your giggles let him know it’s alright.
“I am too, well close enough.” You explain. “So maybe we could meet up?” You see Bucky’s eyes light up and then you shoot yourself in the foot. “When it’s time for me to pick up the vase.” His eyes look a little sadder but his smile doesn’t fade.
“Yeah, I’ll send you a message on TikTok when it’s ready and we can find a place to meet.” Bucky says as he sits back in his chair. “I’m excited to get started on it, it looks like a fun one.” He continues as he looks down at his notes.
“I know it will be wonderful, all your work is.” You compliment, wanting to make up for your error that cause the light to dull in those incredible blue eyes. “I do have a question,” He leans forward again.
“Shoot.” Plan and simple.
“Well, what’s up with your two different accounts and the one username? Because at first I thought it was a porn page.” You explain, hopping to get a laugh. And you did. Bucky laughs, his hand over his pec and head thrown back with abandon.
“Oh no! Were you disappointed?” He teases and you laugh.
“Well maybe I was!” You tease back, not quite sure where the courage came from.
“Well as you know now, I go by Bucky. So I just used the ‘Clay mates’ and my name which does sound a lot like-“
“Yeah! So why?” You press again, smiling even bigger.
“It was a dare from a friend and it kinda stuck. I get tons of people asking so it also generates conversations around my business and what not. So it works! Is it crass? Kinda. Do I care? No.” He laughs again and messes with his hair a little. “So you know I make pottery but what do you do, Bunny?” He smirks and your face is aflame at the use of your nickname.
“I’m a writer, I write romance novels.” Suddenly feels quite bashful about your job. Bucky nods and rubs his chin as he watches you.
“So? Is this a meet cute worthy of one of your books?” Bucky asks. You look behind the computer at your wall where you storyboards are. A gentle smile washes over you as you look back at an expectant Bucky.
“Yeah, I’d say it is.” You admit. An alarm goes off on Bucky’s side of the screen and he curses under his breath.
“Sorry, Bunny. I’ve got to go. If I’m being honest I really wish I didn’t. I’d love to stay here all night getting to know you, I promised a friend I’d go out tonight and I never break a promise. So with that knowledge handed to you on a silver platter,” you laugh and he smiles brightly again. “I promise I will make you a gift that means something.” Your breath catches and you nod slightly.
“Thank you, Bucky.” You say before you both wave goodbye like dorks.
**********************************************
Your chance, gone. Like a lot of chances in your life. Watching them go by because you don’t have the courage to ask for what you want. Natasha walks into your room and pulls you up from the bed. “Come on, we are late.” You finally agreed to go out with just her when you started to come down from the high of getting to talk to Bucky. “I promise, you will have fun. In fact this will be the best night of your life.” She hugs you and leads you to the door. As it opens you come face to face with Natasha’s ‘tiktok boyfriend’
“Hiya Stevie,” Natasha coos as she leans in and gives him a sweet kiss. Steve meets your gaze when he pulls back and offers his hand.
“Hey! I’m Steve Rogers,” he motions beside him, urging someone to move in closer. “And this is my friend Bucky Barnes.” You meet those blue eyes and melt, Bucky’s painfully awkward smile turns genuine when he sees you. He almost shoves Steve out of the way to get closer to you.
“Oh my god- Bunny?!” Bucky exclaims. “So your friend who made your TikTok account is the same one my friend has been dating for the past two months,” he smiles and laughs. “What a small world! God, I’m glad to see you.” You blush at the nickname, Natasha bumping your arm and Steve giving you both a questioning look when he hears the name.
You are just as shocked as Bucky and honestly can’t find the words.
“I’m stunned,” you laugh and look at Natasha. “Did you know?!” You ask her and she smirks as she pulls Steve into her arms.
“I would know my man’s voice and hands anywhere, so when I saw and heard him on one of Bucky’s videos I quickly texted Stevie and we worked our magic.” She winks. “I mean out of 500 entries for the pottery and you won! How lucky was that.” She winks again and you gasp.
“Did you two rig the drawling?!?” You exclaim and Bucky shoots a glance to Steve who is blushing bright red.
“I may have added a few extra slips with your name.” He admits. Bucky turns and faces him as he crosses his arms.
“How many?” Bucky asks and Steve laughs and sheepishly admits,
“Like 200 extra slips. She had a very good chance at winning.” Steve looks at Natasha and then you and Bucky. You both laugh and Bucky turns back to you.
“Well I’m sure as hell not mad,” he reaches out for your hand. “Are you?” He questions and you shake your head no as you put your hand in his. “Good,” Bucky leans in closer and pulls you in, your lips almost brush when you hear your apartment door close and lock. Looking back you see that Natasha and Steve have slipped inside. “So I guess it’s just us tonight,” he laughs and you agree. “What would you like to do? Cause I have no idea what they had planned.” You think for a minute and then turn back to the door and knock. Bucky lets go of your hand and you quickly grab it back giving him a wink. A slightly irritated Natasha opens the door, lipstick gone and smeared all over Steve’s face.
“What?” She asks and you push past her headed to your room. Bucky stands in the hallway watching and praying you come back.
You emerge with your purse that’s pretty big and Natasha knows that’s your “just in case I spend the night.” Purse. You wave goodbye as you grab your keys and close the door behind you. Turning to Bucky and pulling him in, you kiss his cheek and wrap your arms around one of his.
“Where to?” You ask.
**********************************************
Steve drove them there so you offer to drive wherever.
“Would it be too forward to invite you back to my place? I’d really like to show you my studio.” He asks so sweetly, you can tell he is nervous. You tease him a little
“Is that your line for all the girl?” Bucky laughs and shakes his head.
“Nope, I never bring girls back to my studio. But if love to have you there.” The double meaning is not Lost on you or Bucky. The blush giving you away, Bucky laughs and pulls you closer before kissing your forehead and taking your keys. “You okay if I drive us?”
“Sure, just promise not to murder me.” You joke as you climb in your car. Bucky sits and gets it started before he looks at you and shrugs.
“No promises, my art has been described as deadly good.” He winks and you laugh at his horrible joke. Soon you are pulling up to a little house with a detached garage.
“You know, it really does look like you’re about to kill me.” You tease but also look around and check the area.
“I know, it’s not the best house but it works and it’s clean. A good neighborhood and lots of space so Steve and I really try hard for our personalities to outshine the murder aesthetic our house gives off.” He takes your hand and walks you to the garage as you laugh. The garage lights up and on every wall is a shelf full of pottery projects. Some half done, some completely done.
“Wow! Bucky, these are amazing!” You exclaim as you look at the intricate detail on each piece. You turn to meet his gaze and he is leaning against his work table just watching you. Moving through the room with Grace and admiring his work, it’s really doing something to him. He hopes you feel the same way.
“So? How did you get into pottery?” You ask as you run your finger along one of the freshly finished pieces.
“I was in the army, when I got out I needed a hobby that I could turn my mind off and just work. Pottery gave me a place for that and it also gave me a place to rediscover my creativity.” Bucky explains. You turn and look at him, gentle as in your eyes.
“That’s why you said that comment about wounded warriors. You wanna support your fellow vets.” You hope your assumption is correct. Bucky nods and smiles, staying firmly where he is.
“Yeah, I nearly lost my arm before I got out. Others aren’t so lucky. So any way I can give back, I try to.” He picks up a piece of clay and start to mold it while talking, mindless work that helps settle his nerves and al the feelings he is having about you.
“That’s amazing.” You say simply, not wanting to push more.
“How did you get into Romance writing?” Bucky asks, a teasing smile across his face. You laugh and continue to walk around the room, looking at the pieces.
“Well, I’m a hopeless romantic,” you look up and meet his gaze. “So I guess I just write about the things I hope would happen to me.” You shrug, your explanation seems simple enough. Bucky is mesmerized by you, how such a beautiful and sweet woman would be single blows his mind. And so sincere too, none of that fake humility he sees in the women he meets who are as beautiful as you, with you, it’s all real and sweet. It’s refreshing.
“How long have you and Steve Been friends?” You ask, wanting to change the topic from yourself.
“Since childhood, he was always getting his ass beat behind the school and I was always there to step in and finish the fight he started.” You laugh and so does Bucky.
“So Steve was a bully?” You ask.
“No!” Bucky laughs. “Just a little punk who wanted to ‘stick up for the little guy’ but he was the little guy, so.” Bucky lightly laughs and you nod. “How about you and Natasha?”
“Since high school. Her family moved here and she was all ‘cool and steely’ that none of the other kids wanted to talk to her,” you laugh at the thought. “I made it my mission to become friends with her. By senior year we were going to go to the same college and we’re going to room together.”
“She seems like a pretty great friend.” Bucky comments, “And Steve adores her but I’m sure she already knows that cause Steve wears his heart on his sleeve.” Bucky teases and you laugh. For a moment it’s quiet, Bucky just watches you and you feel butterflies erupt in your stomach and a heat settle even lower. This man is so sweet and kind, not to mention incredibly hot. He is absolutely making you regret not wearing your sexy underwear tonight. You see some clay and the wheel sitting in the middle of the floor. You walk over and run a finger over the clay. Looking up and see Bucky’s eyes raking over your body, you feel invigorated. As sexily as you can, you sit on the stool and toss a look over at him.
“Teach me, please?” You demand and then ask. You see the moment Bucky melts and is all in. He smirks and walks over, pulling up a chair behind you and straddling your body. He places his hands on your and shows you where to plant your feet. He leans forward and whispers against your ear.
“This is a little too ‘Ghost’ for me.” He teases and you giggle as you turn and look at him. His eyes drop to your lips and then back to your eyes. Clay forgotten, you spin in his arms and crash your lips to his. His hands roam over your back, pulling you closer. You moan against his lips, desperate for more, but he pulls away. Breathless and blushing he asks. “I hope this isn’t too forward, would you like to stay the night?” You smirk and move back, away from his arms to grab your bag. Reaching your hand out for him to take again.
“Lead the way.” You coo. Bucky has you in his arms and pressed against his chest so quickly. His lips capture yours again and you giggle against them. Bucky lifts you into his arms and expertly makes his way into the house, never leaving your lips longer than a Quick Look at the doors to make sure they are locked.
Stumbling down the hallway, backs pressed against the walls as you both fight for dominance. Giggles and moans filling the air as you grope each others bodies, seeking flesh rather than clothing. When your back finally presses against Bucky’s door, he pulls back and takes your face in his hands. “This isn’t too fast, is it? You feel this too, right? This connection- this pull.” You bite your lip and nod as you place your hands firmly against his chest, the muscles beneath your fingers, firm and hard, drool worthy.
“Yeah, I feel it too.” You admit before kissing him again and moaning against his mouth. Bucky opens the door and kicks it closed with his boot. He walks you backwards to the bed and in utter abandon you allow yourself to fall, fall back, fall in, fall deep. Pulling back slightly, Bucky caresses your cheek and meets your gaze, your heartbeat quickens as he gently smiles and an exciting peace washes over you. You’ve never felt this safe, this fast. Slowing the pace, Bucky takes his time with you. Kissing down your neck and nipping lightly at your collarbone before his fingers dance at the hem of your shirt. Your hands slips under his shirt and your fingers draw line over his back as he moves above you. First to go his his shirt, tossed behind him and across the room. He sees your eyes trailing down his body and he gives you a moment to take it in. His chest is sculpted yet still soft under your touch, the tasteful amount of chest hair along his pec and sternum tickle your fingers as you memorize his body with your finger tips, and the trail of dark brown hair leading down from his bellybutton and disappearing below his waistband sends your mind into over drive. You lean up and kiss along his chest as he moans at the feeling of your tongue grazing along his nipples. He grabs the hem of your shirt and lifts it up and over your head, tossing it with his. Leaning down and kissing the tops of your breast, he is in heaven. The straps slip down and before you know it you are uncoupling the back and tossing it off, needing as little clothing between the two of you as possible. Bucky reaches for his pants and has them shoved down and off as you remove yours. Standing above you in only black boxer briefs you see the outline of his cock, hard and aching against his boxers. Your mouth waters and yet you are slightly afraid because you can tell he is big. Bigger than any man you’ve been with. Bucky settles on the bed between your legs and slips his hands in the waistband of your panties, waiting for permission, you nod and he has them down you leg and scattered with the rest of the clothes. You sit up and kneel in front of where he kneels on the bed, pulling you closer by the small of your back, Bucky kisses you. You wrap your hands around his waist and slip one hand down his boxers, squeezing his ass before waiting for permission to pull them down. He nods, not wanting to release your lips. When nothing is left between your bodies you lay back in Bucky’s arms and he settles between your legs. Rolling his hips against yours and giving you both friction where you desperately need it. Your moan echos off the walls and he smiles, knowing he is the cause. Bucky kisses down your body and ends up laying between you legs as he licks and sucks on your clit, gently teasing your pussy with a fingertip before pushing all the way in and devoting himself to making you cum on his face. You hands play with his hair as his other hand palms your breast. It’s so fast and so good, you can’t help but moan his name as you cum, squirting on his tongue. “Bucky!! Oh-fffffuuuuc- yes!!” He smirks up at you which makes you cum again. He moans and hums against you as he brings you down. He kisses up your body and settles between you legs.
“I can grab a condom if you want.” Bucky says as he is already reaching into his bedside table to grab one.
“I’m on the pill and I’m clean, I haven’t been with anyone in about a year.” You explain. Bucky nods and takes a shuddering breath before he kisses you again.
“I’m clean too, and it’s been even longer for me.” He gives a weak little smile and you caress the side of his face before you gently kiss his lips.
“Never would have guessed with what that mouth just did to me.” You tease, trying to lighten the mood while letting him know he’s still got it. Bucky laughs and kisses you again as he lines himself up with you. Slowly pushing in and watching your face for pain as he bottoms out. “Mmhm ffffuc- yyyeeesss!” you moan at the stretch. Bucky kisses you again and slowly starts to move his hips, in and out, making sure to hit that spot inside of you over and over again. At first he is laying on top of you, your bodies moving together and against each other, it was sweet and sensual. Then Bucky sits up a little and you take that moment to flip him over, pinning him to the bed with a giant smile on his face. You ride him as you brace your hands against his pecs. His moans growing louder and louder as you get him close to the edge. You sit up and play with your breast and you snap your hips back and forth, ready to bring him over. But apparently that wasn’t what he wanted, because suddenly you are on your back and your legs are over his shoulders as he drills into you while one hand plays with your clit. You gasp and moan as you writhe beneath him. “Oh! BUCKY?!?! Yesyesyes!!!”
“That’s it, Bunny. Come on, I’m not cumming till you have cum on my cock. Come on, baby girl.” That did it, his dirty talk and care. You melted beneath him as you cum, squirting again and feeling better than you’ve felt tin years. “That’s it Good girl,” Bucky coos as he chases his high. Pleasure washes over his face as he buries himself inside you, cumming hard and deep. “Mmhmm squeezing my cock so well,” he is in utter bliss and he lets your legs go and just lays down next to you, his softening cock still inside. He kisses your forehead and hums. “Good girl.” You beam up at him, the praise doing something new to you that it’s never done before. He kisses you before he pulls the covers up and over you body, still entangled and coming down from heaven.
“Mmhmm that was definitely the makings of a meet cute.” You admit and Bucky laughs as he kisses you again.
“Come on, let’s go ‘meet cute’ in the shower, huh?!” He pulls you up and into his arms you nod and he carry’s you away.
**********************************************
You stand at the door to you car, the sun rising beautifully and creating a glow around you two. “I wish you could stay longer but I understand why you have to go.” Bucky says as he kisses you again.
“My book won’t write itself and if I stay here I will end up participating in smut and not writing it, which is the chapter I am currently working on so.” You explain as Bucky lightly laughs before he smirks and kisses you.
“Well, feel free to use last night in bed as inspiration. Or the shower last night, or the midnight hand play we had, or ever the slow morning sex we just finished.” He beams as he retells the all the adventures you got up to last night. You blush and burry your head in his chest as he hugs you and laughs.
“I will call you tonight and see about dinner, okay?” He nods and you kiss him again. As you are about to get in your car, Steve’s car pulls in. He honks loudly and gets out cheering and clapping. Completely embarrassing Bucky and you, but you know it’s in good fun.
“Were you two safe?” He asks, adding more fuel to the embarrassment fire.
“Nope, not at all!” Bucky shoots back and you decide to tease too.
“Yeah, totally pregnant over here. It worked that fast! Get ready to move into the garage, Stevie, the baby is gonna need your room.” Bucky laughs and pulls you closer. He kisses you again and then sends you on your way. Bucky turns to Steve and you see them “fighting” as you drive away.
**********************************************
When you get home Natasha is dead to the world and you decide to leave her that way. You see a notification on your phone, it’s Bucky’s TikTok. Opening the app to see a new video.
“Hey guys! Sorry about no live last night.” He blushes, “I uh I met a really amazing Women and my night ended up going a little too well. And it may continue that way, so there may be a change in the live schedule as well as the posting schedule. She’s a writer and our ‘meet cute’ inspired quite a lot in her and I need to be available for any further inspiration.” He winks and then laughs. “But seriously, I’m still around, just maybe not every night anymore. Love you all!” And with that the video ends. You smirk and quickly send Bucky a text.
Message
Hey James, your new Women friend needs some inspiration 😏😉
Within seconds your phone is ringing, as you answer his voice is soothing and so low it’s almost like a purr. “Well, what did you have in mind, Bunny?”
Taglist: @georgiapeach30513 @theinheriteddutchess @rainydayandmondays @cadencejames87 @hisredheadedgoddess28 @jessieasher1616 @janineb86 @cjand10 @welp-heregoessomething
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surielstea · 5 months
Text
“I could take you”
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Pairing: Acotar men x Fem!Reader (separately)
Summary: Reader teases her mate, saying she could take them in a fight, or in other places.
Warnings: All fluff, suggestive
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Rhysand
"I could take you," I surmise aloud. My mate, who was trying to sleep peeked one eye open.
"We just finished, I'm not one to complain but aren't you tired?" He grumbled and I giggled.
"Not sex, I could take you in a fight dummy," I punch his shoulder and his brows rise.
"Oh really?" He drags out, arm wrapping tighter around my torso, pulling me into his chest as darkness swarms the room. "Don't make me mist you," He mumbled tiredly into my neck and I rolled my eyes.
"I'm serious, I could," I urge. "I know just how I'd do it too," I trail my fingertips up his bare chest.
"You think about killing me often?" He presumes and I roll my eyes.
"I'm just saying, it'd be easy," I tease.
"Murder me in your dreams, you fiend," He huffed, stuffing his face into my breasts without thought.
"Only kidding Rhys, I'd never harm you," I reassure. "But I could," I add and he smiles against my chest at the absurdity of this mindless conversation.
Cassian
"I could take you," I cross my arms over my chest, sizing up my mate with narrowed eyes. The shirtless male looked at me with an arched brow while he drank deeply from his water. I had been watching him train for hours now, so long that it felt as if I had every one of his moves and skills memorized.
"You think so?" He challenges and I nod with a beaming grin, taking a step closer and staring up at him entirely innocent.
"I know so," I shrug. His smile only widens.
"I guarantee I could have you on your knees within seconds," He leans dauntingly close but I don't falter, keep my unwavering ground.
"Whatever you say, sweetheart," I rise onto my toes and peck his lips. He seemed entirely thrown off by the mix of my kiss and the nickname, and that fact alone made me one thousand percent sure I could throw him off his rhythm in combat too, he might've called it cheating but I saw it as a strategic advantage of sorts.
“You want to spar or would you prefer to take me in other ways?" He taunted and I'd be lying if I didn't want both, though I decided I wanted one a little more.
"What are you waiting for tough guy?" I backed up towards the mats with a prideful smirk that mirrored his.
Azriel
My mate had his head in my lap while he read some non-fiction I had no interest in, much preferring to run my hands through his curls and watch his tense features morph into those of relaxation. My thoughts wandered in the comfortable silence, it began by thinking of what he was reading about, then the fact that he was smart and strong, and then it spiraled from there.
"I think I could take you in a fight," I mumble and his eyes that had been running across his page froze, then flicked up to mine.
"What was that, my love?" He closed his book, pausing whatever page he was in the middle of in order to give me his full attention.
"I could take you," I repeat and he blinks, then, to my surprise, he nods.
"Probably," He hums, cracking his book back open and offering no explanation as to why he thinks so.
Azriel was a competitive male, even with me. So when he said such a thing I was thrown entirely off my train of thought. "Wait— you're serious?" My hands stop combing through his hair and his bottom lip juts out in the absence of the ministrations, a grown male, pouting.
"When am I not?" He hummed and I rolled my eyes. The answer to that was more often than he'd care to admit.
"Why do you think I can?" I ask.
He shrugs simply before saying, "You'd probably use your witchcraft on me.” His eyes were entirely genuine. I push his head off my lap with a faux look of anger. He came back to me with full force, arms reaching around me and pulling me into him, his head pressing in the junction between my neck and shoulder. "I'm not a witch," I huff and he only smiles against my skin.
"Maybe not, but your seductive powers work too well on me," He explains and I roll my eyes. The powers he was referring to included a lingerie set and a few keywords that had him doing laps.
"It's not hard when I've got you wrapped around my finger," I sing and he sighs contentedly, pulling me closer, seemingly happy with with that statement, like he would never try to change that fact. Even if it meant I could take him down on a sparring mat.
Eris Vanserra
Eris was baking. An odd sight to see for anyone else but for me, it was a simple Sunday morning. I drifted into the kitchen with a drunken smile on my face as I slung my arms around his torso and draped myself over him. "What's that grin for?" He glances over at me before continuing to read whatever recipe he was following.
"Just thinking," I hum with a dazed look. It was no secret that today had been the peak of my ovulation in my cycle, my need for him was all-consuming. Yet here he was, baking my favorite flavor pie. "I wanna take you," I huff into his shoulder and he chuckles.
He makes a real show of ignoring my pleas and instead answers with an amused tone, "In a fight?"
I scowl, my frown deepening as I stare up at him— but then he had me thinking about it. "Why not?" I shrug.
"You sure you can?" He tilts his head down at me demeaningly— gods, he knows this is torture.
"Fine, you're too smart for me to beat in a fight but I could take you to other places," I wrap my arms around his neck and he sloppily smiles. "You're plenty smart, my sweet," His hands come to my hips, and his touch alone relieved sacred parts of me. I shake my head in denial. "C'mon, I've got a few weak spots I’m sure you could figure it out," He reassures, his voice soft. I didn't want to think about fighting him, I never wanted to have to.
"I love you too much to fight with you," I shrug, lifting up and pecking his lips innocently, void of my earlier arousal.
"That," He whispers against my lips. "That was one of my weak spots," He murmurs and I smile.
"Can you fuck me now or is this pie still more important than your very pretty, very needy mate?" I ask impatiently and he shakes his head with a charming expression. "Very needy, indeed."
Lucien Vanserra
“I could take you, and I don’t mean in a fight,” I say, head propped up on my mate's shoulder, peering up at him from inches away while he focused on peeling a tangerine for me. He simply laughs when he notices I’m serious, lips curling into a delighted smile.
“What’s that even supposed to mean?” He mumbles and I flip over onto his lap, straddling his hips.
“I’ll let you figure that out,” I mumble with a shrug. He shakes his head, looking down at the fruit in his hand as he peels the rind.
“You’re ridiculous,” He mumbled under his breath and I grinned wildly.
“You love it,” I muse and he looks up to me, handing me the peeled orange, ready to be eaten.
“I do,” He confesses, and that look on his face makes my stomach blossom with warmth, overflowing with admiration and devotion.
I don’t know how to react, or what to do with all the love he gives me, so instead I say the first thing that comes to mind, “I could also take you in a fight, though.”
He leans closer with a teasing grin. “And why’s that sunshine?” He hums as I pop a slice of the tangerine into my mouth, the sweet taste of citrus making me smile.
“You wouldn’t be able to fight back,” I shrug and his brows crease in confusion.
“Cause I’d be too scared?” He presumes and I shake my head, swallowing my fruit.
“Because you love me,” I croon.
“Unfortunately,” He grumbles under his breath and my jaw drops in shock. “Lu!” I exclaim as I push his shoulders and he falls back into the couch.
“I’m only kidding sunshine, you know you’re all I’ve ever wanted,” He reassured with a lilt in his tone, making me roll my eyes.
“I’m seriously debating that fight right now,” I murmur and he smiles, hand coming to my cheek and pulling me into him.
“Such a drama queen,” He mumbles, pressing his mouth to mine before I can retort. I melt into him, hands coming to his cheeks with delicate touches, my thumb tracing the end of his scar. “I love you too much to fight back, too,” I admit, his smile only grows. “I know.”
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